Clancy and Ballard were not successful in rounding up all the fellows Merriwell had asked them to see. On such short notice, however, they did very well.
Jerry Spink, who was booked for left held, had gone to the Tin Cup Ranch with an important letter for his father, who was part owner of the cattle outfit. He was expected back some time Thursday, and the boys left word for him to report at the clubhouse by two-thirty Thursday afternoon, if he got back in time.
Benaway, picked for one of the reserves, was a clerk in the general store and post office. The proprietor of the store had sent him to a placer mine to collect a bill, and it was expected that he would return some time during the evening. A message was likewise left for him.
Shaw was down with tonsillitis, and he set up a terrible wail of disappointment when he learned what was going on, and realized his inability to help out.
Barzy Blunt, Mose Handy, and Lin Reckless were all the fellows Ballard and Clancy could get together. Spink and Benaway would be on hand the following day, however, without fail.
The six lads, brimming over with enthusiasm because of the game scheduled with Gold Hill, reached the Ophir clubhouse at about four-thirty. Neither Merry, nor any of those he had gone to see, had arrived.
“Chip will be along before many minutes,” said Clancy. “Let’s get a couple of balls and begin limbering up on the diamond.”
188
They were hard at it when the Bradlaugh car halted at the clubhouse and unloaded Mr. Bradlaugh, his son, Hannibal—who had been picked up on the way through town—Jode Lenning, and Merriwell.
The party came onto the athletic field by a passage between the end of the clubhouse and the gymnasium. Merriwell was first to come into view of those on the diamond.
“Hoop-a-la!” shouted Barzy Blunt, waving his cap. “Here’s Chip with the rest of the bunch. You can bet a ripe persimmon he wouldn’t——”
The rest of the cowboy athlete’s remark did not appear. Words suddenly froze on his lips. Just behind Merriwell was Lenning, and for Lenning, Blunt had no use whatever.
“Suffering cats!” muttered Blunt, as soon as he could recover the power of speech. “Say, Ballard, why is that no-account juniper trailing Chip?”
Clancy and Ballard had kept quiet about Merry’s determination to work Lenning into the nine. They had a feeling that their chum’s move was to prove distinctly unpopular, and they fought shy of mentioning it. The secret would soon be out, now, and Clancy and Ballard awaited the result with a good deal of trepidation.
Blunt was a firm friend of Merriwell’s, but when fate gave him Blunt for a surname she indicated his character unerringly. He was blunt of speech and had a hot temper, and it was a habit of his to flash out his feelings in plain English, with small regard for consequences.
Nor was the cowboy the only one on the diamond who had been jolted into silence by the sight of Lenning. Handy and Reckless likewise manifested all the symptoms of severe frost.
Clancy and Ballard tried to save the situation by a little
189
 joshing and horseplay. It was a half-hearted attempt, however, and could not make a breach in the forbidding wall with which Blunt, Handy, and Reckless had surrounded themselves.
Merry was quick to sense the chill in the air, and he hurriedly seconded the efforts of Clancy and Ballard to put matters on a better footing. Brad, on the ride out to the clubhouse, had had several minutes to accustom himself to the presence of Lenning. Loyally he rallied to Merry’s support. Brad’s father, also, did what he could to ease off the tension.
“Hello, fellows!” Frank called good-naturedly. “I wonder if you’re all as hungry to get after the horsehide as I am? This game with Gold Hill suits me right up to the handle. Barzy, you look like a three-time winner. Handy, you look as fit for the national game as you did for the gridiron, a few weeks ago. Reckless, old chap, how’s tricks?”
In this breezy fashion, Frank strove to smooth out the disagreeable twist in the situation. Lenning was there by his persuasions, and he felt that the fault would be his if the lad was humiliated in any way.
“I think we owe a vote of thanks to Colonel Hawtrey and Chip Merriwell for this chance to clash with Gold Hill on the diamond,” piped Brad. “We’ve got to work like the dickens, though, if we get in shape for the game between now and Saturday.”
“You must all pull together, my lads,” put in the general manager significantly.
Neither Blunt, nor Handy, nor Reckless had a word to say. After their first cool scrutiny of Lenning, they proceeded to ignore him.
“Where’s the wonderful Mexican backstop, Chip?” queried Clancy.
190
“Couldn’t get hold of him to-day,” Frank answered, “but he’ll be along to-morrow. What about Spink, Benaway, and Shaw, Clan?”
Clancy reported as to the three players Merry had mentioned.
“That’s tough about Shaw,” Merry observed, “but, on the whole, we’re making out a good deal better than I expected. I can depend on you fellows, can I?” The question was aimed particularly at Blunt, Handy, and Reckless.
“I reckon you can, Chip,” drawled Blunt, a gleam of temper playing in his sloe-black eyes. “How have you fixed the make-up of the team?”
“You’re down for second, Barzy, and if they hit me too hard you’ll probably have to move up to the pitcher’s box.”
“That’s a joke,” and the grin that half formed itself about the cowboy’s lip’s led Merry to............