y baseball blood to boiling," laughed Merry; "but I
think I'll keep my head cool and not play."

At this moment some one announced that the twelve o'clock car was
coming, and all hurried out to see if Woods and Makune were on it.

They were. They were met by Moslof, who shook hands with them and then
introduced them to Merriwell.

"What?" exclaimed Makune. "Frank Merriwell, the Yale man?"

"The same," confessed Frank.

"Why, Portland tried to get you two weeks ago, but couldn't get track of
you. Moslof, you did a good trick when you nailed Merriwell."

"But I haven't nailed him," said the manager of the Camdens. "I've tried
every way possible to get him. He is stopping here on his own yacht."

Woods did not seem to be much of a talker, but when he shook hands with
Merry, many in the crowd noticed a strong resemblance between them.
Merriwell was the taller and darker. Woods was very quiet in his manner,
and he impressed the observer favorably at a glance. He had the air of a
gentleman, even though he was a professional ball player.

That day Woods, Makune, Moslof and Merriwell dined together at the Bay
View, and Frank told himself that never had he met a pleasanter set of
fellows. There was something about Woods that drew Merry to him in a
most remarkable manner. Frank had not known him an hour before he felt
as if they were old friends.

"Do you think you can win from Rockland this afternoon, Walter?" asked
Moslof.

"I can try," said Woods, quietly.

"Win!" exclaimed Makune. "Why, he is sure to win! If you have the team
you say you have, we'll eat Rockland."

"How's your arm, Walter?" asked Moslof.

"I think it's all right," assured Woods.

"All right!" cried Makune. "Of course it's all right! Never was better.
You didn't hurt it much, anyway, Walt."

"Yes, I did," declared Woods, truthfully. "I thought I had killed it,
and I reckoned that my ball playing days were over. I didn't care much,
either. If it hadn't been for you, Makune, I'd quit, anyway."

"Oh, you're too sensitive!" chuckled Makune. "You see, gentlemen, Walter
doesn't drink a drop, doesn't smoke, chew or swear, won't play cards for
money--in fact, hasn't a single vice. The fellows jolly him about it,
and it makes him sore."

Frank's sympathy was with Woods at once.

After dinner Woods and Makune went to their rooms to change their
clothes, and Merry went out to stroll through the town.

Frank found himself stared at in a manner that