There was no doubt that the Clippers were a drawing card. Although their team was one of the best in the Amateur League, the rumor had spread abroad that it had been largely reconstructed by Colonel Carson for this game, and the near-by towns had sent their contingents of fans, in no little expectation. Fardale field was crowded long before the time for the game. Before two o’clock the grand stand was sold out. There was no overflow crowd, since the long bleachers were full able to handle every one, but automobiles were parked by the score at all available points, and it looked as if ground rules would have to go into effect. There had been a big shift in the Fardale team, also. News of this had leaked out, and consequently both cadets and baseball fans were eager to see what Captain Merriwell had done in the way of a shake-up. Man after man purchased a score card, and then gazed at it in blank amazement. If he happened to be a Fardale rooter, the amazement was tinctured with dismay. If he was a Clipper fan, he stared at his card in perplexity, and began to ask questions of the men around him. This was the line-up that caused the crowd so much confusion: FARDALE. Lowe, 3d b. O’Day, r. f. Kess, 2d b. Clancy, 1st b. Merriwell, p. Harker, ss. McQuade, c. Chester, l. f. Lang, c. f. CLIPPERS. Ironton, ss. Murray, 2d b. Green, p. Smith, 1st b. Olcott, c. Johnson, r. f. Craven, 3d b. Runge, l. f. Merrell, c. f. “That’s a queer proposition,” said a Clipper fan, turning to the man behind him. “Who’s this fellow Green? And Smith?” “Search me. All we got left o’ the old Clippers is short and second.” Over in the Fardale bleachers there was little short of a sensation, for Chip’s line-up had not been made public before the game. “We’re gone!” groaned one man despairingly. “With Kess on second and O’Day out in the field, it’s ‘good night’ for us!” “Merriwell must be crazy,” exclaimed another. “That blundering Dutchman can’t hit beans! And Lowe and Harker switched around, and a substitute in left field! I wish Ted Crockett had remained captain, by thunder!” “Oh, pickles!” scoffed a plebe derisively. “Who left the door open for you to get in? You wait and see what happens to those Clippers!” None the less, Fardale was anxious. So were the Clipper sympathizers. When the time for practice drew near, the crowd was literally on its toes, watching for the first sight of the players. Both teams were an unknown quantity, in their present shape, and the only comfort remaining to Fardale was that Merriwell was slated to pitch. The umpires were two Yale men, specially obtained for the occasion. Frank was forced to dismiss his worry over Bob Randall, as the time for work drew near. Nothing had been seen of Bully Carson, and Randall was due to witness the game from the principal’s box--partly as a guest, partly under surveillance. The village constable was somewhere about the field, hunting for Carson.