e would be pursued.

A day or two later came the very thing that had been anticipated and
discussed, since the freshman game at Cambridge. Merriwell was selected
as one of the pitchers on the 'Varsity nine, and the freshmen lost him
from their team.

Putnam came out frankly and confessed that he had feared something of
the kind, all along, and Frank was in no mood to kick over his past
treatment, so nothing was said on that point.

In the first game against a weaker team than Harvard, Merriwell was
tried in the box and pitched a superb game, which Yale won in a walk.

Big Hugh Heffiner, the regular pitcher, whose arm was in a bad way,
complimented Merriwell on his work, which he said was "simply great."

Of course Frank felt well, as for him there was no sport he admired so
much as baseball; but he remained the same old Merriwell, and his
freshmen comrades could not see the least change in his manner.

The second game of the series with Harvard came off within a week, but
Frank got cold in his arm, and he was not in the best possible condition
to go into the box. This he told Pierson, and as Heffiner had almost
entirely recovered, Frank was left on the bench.

The 'Varsity team had another pitcher, who was known as Dad Hicks. He
was a man about twenty-eight years old, and looked even older, hence the
nickname of Dad.

This man was most erratic and could not be relied upon. Sometimes he
would do brilliant work, and at other time children could have batted
him all over the lot. He was used only in desperate emergencies, and
could not be counted on in a pinch.

During the whole of the second game with Harvard Frank sat on the bench,
ready to go into the box if called on. At first it looked as if he would
have to go in, for the Harvard boys fell upon Heffiner and pounded him
severely for two innings. Then Hugh braced up and pitched the game
through to the end in brilliant style, Yale winning by a score of ten to
seven.

Heffiner, however, was forced to bathe his arm in witch hazel
frequently, and as he went toward the box for the last time he said to
Frank with a rueful smile:

"You'll have to get into shape to pitch the last game of the series with
these chaps. My arm is the same as gone now, and I'll finish it this
inning. We must win this game anyway, regardless of arms, so here goes."

He could barely get the balls over the plate, but he used his head in a
wonderful manner, and the slow ball proved a compl