me an excuse for getting rid of him."

"He's a revengeful sneak," said Frank. "He'll try to get even with me
some way."

Jack and Bart decided it was time for them to return to the yacht, and
so they left Merriwell at the hotel, surrounded by several members of
the Camden ball team, who had come in to see him.

Moslof introduced Frank to the members of the team as they appeared,
and Merry shook hands with Slatridge and Putbury, the principal battery
of the nine, two men who were red-headed, freckled, slow of movement,
slow of speech, and who looked so much alike that in their uniforms one
was often mistaken for the other. Cogern, the center fielder of the
team, was another big fellow, who was said to be a terrific batter,
being valuable for that very reason. Williamson proved to be tall and
thin, but "Pop" had a reputation as a pitcher and a hitter. On account
of his illness he had not been able to pitch since joining the Camdens,
and so he was covering first base. Mower was a professional, and a good
man when he attended to business. He played short. Bascomb, a little
fellow, with a swagger and a grin that showed some very poor teeth, was
change pitcher with Slatridge.

Frank looked the men over. They were a clean-looking set of ball
players, and he was favorably impressed with them.

"Why, you seem to have a strong team here," he said to Moslof. "I
fancied by what I heard down in Rockland that you had a lot of farmers."

"They know better than that!" exclaimed the manager of the Camdens,
flushing. "We gave them a shock by winning from them in our opening
game. They thought they had a snap. They have been hustling since then,
but we held the lead for a long time. Now we are tied with them for
first place, and this game to-day decides who holds the position. If
Woods and Makune arrive on the twelve o'clock car, we'll try to give
Rockland a surprise this afternoon."

"Woods is a pitcher, isn't he?"

"He is, and he's a good man, too, but his arm is not in the best
condition. He hurt it a few weeks ago, and it hasn't got back yet. All
the same, he says he will pitch for us this afternoon--telephoned me to
that effect. He's on the level, and he wouldn't want to pitch if he
didn't think he could win."

"Then I don't see why you want anything of me," smiled Frank.

"Woods can play any position," said Moslof, quickly. "With you in the
box, we'd have the strongest nine ever seen in this State."

"You have started m