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

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“Fret! fret! If you had staked as much as I have, you’d not be so cool.”

“You can afford to lose a thousand as well as I can two hundred. You made three thousand on the Ryan-Cummings fight.”

“That was a sure thing. I was tipped off the way that mill was going.”

“And you thought this a sure thing to-day?”

“Yes. Why not? Those chaps are a lot of boys. The Stars are veterans.”

“But that lot of boys have the best man for a captain who stands in shoe-leather to-day. He makes them win games—when he can’t win them alone.”

“He can’t make them win all the time.”

“He does. He hasn’t been pitching at his usual standard to-day. He had to open up in the last inning, and he will in the next. See if he doesn’t shut the Stars out.”

Carson was in position to strike. Batch tried all the tricks he knew, but Berlin waited till three balls had been called.

Then a sign passed between Jack and Berlin for the former to go down on the next ball pitched.

The ball was right over, and Carson swung at it, missing intentionally. At the same time he seemed to lose his footing and fall back against the catcher. The trick was done so well that Carson’s own friends did not know it was intentional, and he bothered the catcher long enough for Ready to reach second safely ahead of the throw to catch him.

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