Ben Raybold, representative of the Northern Securities Company, was lighting a cigar at the stand in the office of the Antlers Hotel when he heard about the game of baseball that had been played in Elkton that afternoon.

“The Merries?” said he, addressing the cigar clerk. “Do you mean Frank Merriwell’s team?”

“Yes; our boys trimmed those fellows to-day.”

Raybold lifted his eyebrows.

“Do you mean to tell me that a local team defeated Merriwell’s team?”

“Sure thing. I tell you, we’ve got the hottest team in Ohio right here in Elkton.”

“You must have a hot team to beat those fellows. I’ve seen them play. They got away with the Chicagos two out of three games in Los Angeles.”

“Well, I rather think our boys might do better than that,” said the clerk, throwing out his chest.

Raybold smiled a bit.

“Many queer things happen in baseball,” he said. “Your team is not a straight local nine?”

“Oh, no,” was the proud answer. “We’ve got a salaried team. That is,” he hastily added, “three men are on salary. The others are employed in town. One of them is a bell boy here in this hotel.”

The Northern Securities man shook his head in a puzzled manner.

“And such a team got away with Frank Merriwell’s nine?” he said. “I don’t understand it.”

The cigar clerk was touched.

“You don’t seem to understand,” he said. “Elkton has a team that can make any of ’em hustle. You ought to see our pitcher. He’s from Wisconsin. His name is Wolfers. Mark what I’m telling you, he’ll be in one of the big leagues within two years. I think he’s a better man than Cy Young or Chesbro, or any of them fellows. He uses the spit ball, and he can put it just where he wants to, which is better than some of the pitchers can do.”

At this moment Bob Wolfers, accompanied by Jack Lawrence and Seymour Whittaker, a local baseball enthusiast and a man of wealth, entered the hotel.

“Oh, your pitcher may be a good man,” said Raybold, taking his cigar from his mouth and examining it critically: “but you ought to know that Frank Merriwell is, beyond doubt, the cleverest slab artist not gobbled up by one of the two big leagues. The Boston Americans and the New York Nationals both want him.”

“Is that straight, mister?” asked Wolfers, butting in and winking at the cigar clerk.

“Yes, that’s straight.”

“I suppose you know it for a fact?”

“I suppose I do.”

“Well, that fellow wouldn’t last twenty seconds on either the Bostons or the New Yorks. He’s the greatest shine for a pitcher that I ever saw.”

Raybold flushed a bit and chewed at the end of his cigar, while he surveyed Wolfers from head to foot.

“I presume you’re competent to judge?” he said.

“I presume I am.”

“It’s a fine thing for a man to have a high estimation of his ability as a judge. Who are you?”

“My name is Wolfers.”

“Oh-ho! I see! Professional jealousy. A case of sour grapes.”

Wolfers laughed derisively.

“Why should it be a case of sour grapes? Merriwell got his medicine all right to-day.”

“Did you ever get bumped?”

“What has that got to do with it? All pitchers get hit occasionally.”

“That’s right; and, therefore, I claim that you can’t judge Merriwell’s ability by one game. Probably it will be different in the next game.”

“There will be no next game,” said the manager.

“How is that?”

“One game wound us up with those chaps.”

“Don’t you dare play them another?”

“Dare? Ha! ha! ha! That’s a joke! Look here, my friend, there’s nothing we’re afraid to hitch up with.”

“Then why don’t you give them another chance at you?”

“Because we have games arranged for the rest of this week, and we expect to be playing in the league again by the first of next week. We can’t bother with small fry. We play out of town to-morrow and next day, and the Cuban Giants meet us here Saturday.”

“I like the way you talk about small fry!” exclaimed Raybold, the tone of his voice indicating that he did not like it.

“Besides,” said Lawrence, “I don’t fancy Merriwell or any of his crowd want to tackle us again.”

“That’s where you make a mistake,” said a quiet voice, as Frank entered the office, limping the least bit. “We’re very anxious to get another game with you, Mr. Lawrence. We think we might reverse the result of to-day.”

Raybold’s eyes twinkled. He recognized Frank at once, but, having never met him, he did not speak. Lawrence shrugged his shoulders.

“It seems to me you ought to be satisfied, Merriwell,” he said. “You got your bumps to-day, didn’t you?”

“You certainly hit me enough,” confessed Frank.

“Still you are anxious for more. Some people never know when they’ve got enough.”

This kind of talk was most annoying, but Merriwell had perfect self-control.

“That’s right,” he acknowledged. “Perhaps I’m one of that kind.”

“Well, out of pity for you, we shouldn’t think of making another game with you, even if we had the opportunity.”

“Look here,” chipped in Raybold, a trifle warmly, “I believe you’re troubled with cold feet. That’s what’s the matter! You’re so pleased over this victory that you want to boast about it.”

This angered Lawrence, who declared that it was nothing to boast about and made a great deal of talk to that effect. When he had finished, Raybold said:

“I’ll wager a hundred dollars even with any man that you can’t defeat Merriwell’s team in another game.”

Seymour Whittaker pricked up his ears.

“What’s that?” he asked. “Your money would feel good in my pocket.”

“Do you take my bet?”

Lawrence turned quickly to Whittaker.

“No use to bet,” he said. “We can’t give them another game. They’ll have to swallow their defeat and make the best of it.”

“The best of it, or the worst of it,” laughed Wolfers. “Too bad they feel so sore. They were outclassed, that’s all.”

“I’m sorry I can’t win that hundred off you, sir,” said Whittaker to Raybold. “It would be easy money for me.”

Lawrence then inquired if Sprowl was in his room at the hotel, and, being told at the desk that he was, he proceeded upstairs, followed by Wolfers and Whittaker.

“It’s unfortunate that these fellows will give you no chance to get even, Mr. Merriwell,” said Raybold. “They must be afraid of you.”

“I hardly think that,” said Merry. “The game to-day could not have frightened them, although it was close until the finish of the ninth inning. They have perfect confidence in themselves. As you are a stranger, it was a surprise to me when you offered to back us in that manner.”

“Oh, we’ve never met, but I’ve seen you pitch. I was out West a short time ago. Have you the same team you had in California and Colorado?”

“Just the same, except that we’re one substitute short. Stretcher has gone home.”

“How did you happen to lose to-day? Was it bad fielding behind you?”

“No, sir. In the ninth I failed to make a hit, with two men on the bags. On the other hand, when their turn came, they did get the hit needed, likewise having two men on the sacks. That’s about how it happened.”

In this manner Frank shouldered the burden. He made no reference to his lame ankle, nor did he explain that he had entered the box after Morgan’s arm gave out.

“That was hard luck!” exclaimed Raybold. “Could you beat them to-morrow?”

“No man can predict what will happen in baseball. Look at the poor showing the Boston Americans made at the opening of the season, just when every one expected great things of them. There are no sure things in baseball that is worth being called baseball.”

“Of course we all realize that. Evidently you are not satisfied to leave Elkton without another try at the team here.”

“Hardly satisfied. Quite the contrary.”

“Well, can’t you drive them into giving you a game?”

“I don’t know how. You’ve just heard their manager refuse.”

“Yes, but men frequently change their minds. Keep at him. Give me permission to see what I can do. Will you?”

“Well——”

“Of course I mean on my own responsibility. I’ll not represent you.”

“I couldn’t think of permitting that, in case you tried to get a game through a wager. I can’t prevent you from betting as much as you choose on your own responsibility.”

“I understand your position. I believe I heard once that betting was against your principles. You seem to have taken a decided stand on that matter. It’s rather peculiar for a young fellow in your position, but I admire you for it. Stick by your principles, say I. I have a theory that it is wrong for a man to do anything he believes to be wrong. Another man may not consider it wrong, and, therefore, for him it may be all right.”

“That’s a dangerous doctrine to preach, as it’s likely to be misunderstood. I have no doubt but there are men who do not consider it wrong to lie or cheat; but——”

“Oh, beyond a certain limit my theory does not apply. It applies to some mooted questions. Lying and cheating are things no man can make right by thinking or pretending to think they are right. Bu............