Again Peters poised himself. Again he uncurled his slim length and sent the white sphere sizzling down. Again Merry swung wickedly at it, and missed. The song died away and settled into silence. Peters grinned easily, glanced at Billy at third, and sent another hot one over the plate. Merry struck. A sharp crack, and the ball began to rise. But the Franklin outfielders took one look at it, then flung up their gloves and ran in. It was a home run, and Fardale had won by one run! CHAPTER XXVI. CAPTAIN OF THE NINE. “Hey, Chip! We got him!” The players grouped about Coach Trayne in the clubhouse turned. They had been waiting for the arrival of Clancy and Billy Mac, who was still to vote on the new captain, as the coach had demanded a written ballot. “By gracious!” The exclamation burst from Merry. Between Clancy and Billy was a drooping figure which he recognized as that of Colonel Carson. The man’s clothes were torn, and by the fierce glances he cast around it was clear that he had not been captured without a struggle. “We knew he was somewhere,” explained the panting Clancy. “So we went to the gate and grabbed him. Let’s tar and feather him, fellows!” “Stop!” Merry stepped out as the yell went up. He flung Billy and Clancy aside, and faced the frightened Colonel Carson. “Colonel,” he said quietly, “I think you’d better get out of town at once. You tried dirty work, and I fancy that you’ve paid up for it, since you intended betting on Franklin. Fade away, and do it lively.” Colonel Carson faded. “He plunged pretty heavily, I hear,” said Trayne, holding back the indignant Fardale men. “Let him go, boys. Merry’s right. Get in here with your ballots, you fellows, and quit delaying things!” “Hold on a minute, please,” said Chip. “I only want to say that the fellow to be elected is Owen Clancy----” “Pho! Shut up, you rube!” “Yah! Listen to der peesness! Go vay und talk mit yourselluf, Frankie!” “Clan didn’t knock the home run!” Coach Trayne quieted down the yelling mob, and roared for ballots. When he had written out his, Merry turned to the silent and unhappy figure of Bob Randall and held out his hand. “Bob,” he said, smiling, “I want to congratulate you on your game to-day! That Franklin chap, Peters, seems to have been a general surprise, and with a smashed-up infield behind you, I think you did remarkably well to keep them down!” Randall hesitated, then accepted Frank’s hand. There was a quick glitter in his dark eyes as he searched Merry’s face. “Do you mean it?” he faltered. “You--you’re not sarcastic?” “Well, I should say not!” cried Merry warmly. “Old man, if you’d had Clan and Billy in their regular positions to steady things down, you’d have won in a hand down!” “Thanks,” said Randall, and turned away. “It’s--it’s mighty good of you, Chip.”