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

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Gamp made the third one out, and the home team came in from the field.

Merry went out and protested to the umpire, but his protest did no good.

“We’ll have to hold them down, fellows,” said Frank. “It’s the only way to win out.”

His arm, however, was feeling bad, and he was fearful that he might find great trouble in remaining in the box to the end.

Teller headed the list for the home team, and he was the first man up. Frank gave him the first one right over the heart of the plate.

“One ball!” said the umpire.

Frank looked at the man.

“Did I understand you?” he asked. “Did you call that a ball?”

“Don’t get fresh, young man!” growled the umpire. “You know it was a ball!”

“Didn’t it go straight over the heart of the plate?”

“It was a ball! I called it that, and it has to stand.”

The crowd showed its disgust by uttering cries of derision, and shouting scornfully at the umpire. Merry put another over, but this time he used a drop.

“Two balls!”

“Outrage!” snarled Hodge. “Hit him, Merry!”

Teller realized that something had happened, and he refused to strike at either of the next two pitched, though both were on the outside corner. The umpire sent him to first.