Читать книгу Frank Merriwell's Support; Or, A Triple Play онлайн

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“Got him!” chirped Ready. “Oh, ye Grecian gods! smile upon us now. Be quiet, my good people, and watch us turn the trick. We are due to do it.”

Batch settled himself for business, and whistled a speedy one to go straight over the rubber. It didn’t get over, however, for Frank met it “on the nose.”

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At the crack of the bat, as it seemed, Merry started to run. The ball went out on a line toward right field, and Carker dashed for second. The right-fielder made a jump to get in front of the ball, but it went past him and struck the ground ten feet beyond.

Away into right field bounded the ball, while Carker and Merry tore round the bases. As Carker approached third, he saw Carson wildly motioning for him to go home.

Greg did not look round, but, had he done so, he would have seen Merry coming after him with the speed of the wind. Frank was overhauling Greg in a most amazing manner.

Under ordinary circumstances, the hit into right field would have been a fair three-bagger; but Merry covered ground so fast that Carson took a chance in sending him home.