Frank did the very last thing Green expected. With a lengthy preliminary, he sent in a fast straight ball over the heart of the plate. Green had watched his fingers, and expected a drop, striking a foot beneath the ball. “That got him!” yelled Clancy. “Another of the same,” cried Billy. “Sure, give me another,” begged Green. Chip smiled. He knew that Green would now be certain of a swift curve. So, making as if to throw an out, Chip sent down another straight ball. “Strike--uh--two!” “That’s headwork, old man!” cried Harker. “Led him dood it!” cried Villum. “Ve vos all behind you, Frankie!” Merry stood quietly. He refused Billy’s signals time after time, knowing that Green was watching him like a hawk, until the crowd yelled for action. In desperation Billy tried the signal for another straight ball, and Merry nodded. Again he wound up carefully. This time he cut loose with every ounce of speed at his command, and the ball went down fairly scorching. Green hit, but hit too late, and Billy was taken off his feet by the speed of the ball. None the less, he held on to it; Chip had fanned his rival with three straight balls! Not only those in the grand stand, but the bleachers had also noted the fact, and there was a deep roar of cheers as Fardale came in. Merry passed Green, and the latter gave him a quick smile. “Merriwell,” he said quietly, “I take off my hat to you! That was magnificent.” Chip looked at him, found sincerity in the wrinkled eyes, and warmed instinctively. “Thanks,” he said significantly. “Coming from you, that means a good deal, Mr. Diggs!” Green started, gave him one keen glance, then passed on with a laugh. But in that moment Chip knew that he now knew his man. “That man is Diggs, right enough,” he said to Coach Trayne, as his next three men proceeded to fan. “But he’s not beaten us yet.” “Yaw!” squawked Villum from behind. “Dot vos right, Chip! Two runs don’d a pasepall game make, you pet me! Vait till I dood it!” For the second time, Green retired Fardale on nine pitched balls. CHAPTER XXXVI. THE JUMP BALL. The fourth inning started off badly, Smith beating out a bunt to first, but he held on while Merry tightened and fanned the next two men with the double shoot. At this Smith went down to second, where Villum was standing on the sack as usual. Billy Mac sent down a perfect throw from the plate, but Villum appeared not to see it, for he was staring at Smith. “Jump, you chump!” yelled Smith, and flung himself down in a beautiful fall-away slide. For the second time that day, Villum sat down suddenly. The ball plunged into the cloud of dust, and a groan from the bleachers. When the dust cleared off, Villum was seen to be smiling blandly at Smith, holding the ball against the latter’s chest; Smith’s leg was hooked about Villum’s waist, and the Clipper was staring up with wild astonishment.