“Yes, it is right, for he restored confidence and started the work of rattling Coulter.”

“Paul,” said the great man of the ’Varsity crew, “that fellow is fast enough for the regular team.”

“You said so before.”

“And I say so again.”

Now it became evident to everybody that Coulter was in a pitiful state, for he could not find the plate at all, and the next man went down on four balls, filling the bases.

But that was not the end of it.  The next batter got four balls, and a score was forced in.

Then it was seen that Peck, Harvard’s change pitcher, was warming up, and it became evident that the captain had decided to put him into the box.

If the next Yale man had not been altogether too eager to get a hit, there is no telling when the inning would have stopped.  He sent a high-fly foul straight into the air, and the catcher succeeded in gathering it in.

The inning closed with quite a change in the score, Harvard having a lead of but three, where it had been seven in the lead at the end of the sixth.

“I am afraid they will get on to Merriwell this time,” said Sport Harris, with a shake of his head.

“Hey!” squealed Rattleton, who was quivering all over.  “I’ll give you a chance to even up with me.  I’ll bet you twenty that Harvard doesn’t score.”

“Oh, well, I’ll have to stand you, just for fun,” murmured Harris as he extracted a twenty-dollar bill from the roll it was said he always carried and handed it to Deacon Dunning.  “Shove up your dough, Rattle.”

Harry covered the money promptly, and then he laughed.

“This cakes the take—­I mean takes the cake!  I never struck such an easy way of making money!  I say, fellows, we’ll open something after the game, and I’ll pay for it with what I win off Harris.”

“That will be nice,” smiled Harris; “but you may not be loaded with my money after the game.”

The very first batter up, got first on an error by the second baseman who let an easy one go through him.

“The money is beginning to look my way as soon as this,” said Harris.

“It is looking your way to bid you good-by,” chuckled Harry, not in the least disturbed or anxious.

Merriwell had a way of snapping his left foot out of the box for a throw to first, and it kept the runner hugging the bag all the time.

Frank also had another trick of holding the ball in his hand and appearing to give his trousers a hitch, upon which he would deliver the ball when neither runner nor batter was expecting him to do so, and yet his delivery was perfectly proper.

He struck the next man out, and the batter to follow hit a weak one to third, who stopped the runner at second.

Two men were out, and still there was a man on first.  Now it looked dark for Harvard that inning, and not a safe hit had been made off Merriwell thus far.