“What’s the matter with Putnam?” growled Pierson.  “Has he got a grudge against Merriwell, or does he intend to lose this game anyway?”

“He’s asleep,” said Collingwood, wearily.  “He’s stuck on Gordon.”

“He must be thick if he can’t see Gordon is rapidly losing his nerve.  Why, the fellow is liable to go to pieces at any minute and let those Willies run in a score that will be an absolute disgrace.”

“Go down and talk to him, Pierson.”

“Not much!  I am too well known to the Harvard gang.  They wouldn’t do a thing to me—­not a thing!”

“Then let’s get out of here.  It makes me sick to hear that Harvard yell.  I can’t stand it, Pierson.”

“Wait.  I want to see Merriwell go into the box, if they will let him at all.  That’s what I came for.”

“But he can’t save the game now.  The Yale crowd is not doing any batting.  All Harvard has to do is to hold them down, and they scarcely have touched Coulter since the second inning.”

“That’s right, but the fellow is easy, Coll.  If they ever should get onto him—­”

“How can they?  They are not batters.”

Pierson nodded.

“That is true,” he admitted.  “They are weak with the stick.  Diamond is the only man who seems to know how to go after a ball properly.  He is raw, but there is mighty good stuff in that fellow.  If he sticks to baseball he will be on the regular team before he finishes his course.”

“I believe Merriwell has shown up well as a batter in practice.”

“He certainly has.”

“Well, I should think Old Put would use him for his hitting, if for nothing else.  He is needed.”

“It seems to me that there is a nigger in the woodpile.”

“You think Merriwell is held back for reasons not known?”

“I do.”

“Say, by jingoes!  I am going down and talk to Putnam.  If he doesn’t give Merriwell a trial he’s a chump.”

“Hold on.”

“What for?  If I wait it will be too late for Merriwell to go in on the first of the seventh.”

“Perhaps Merriwell may stand on his dignity and refuse to go in at all at this late stage of the game.”

“He wouldn’t be to blame if he did, for he can’t win out.”

“Something is up.  Hello!  Merriwell is getting out of his sweater!  I believe Putnam is going to send him out!”

There was a great satisfaction in Pierson’s voice.  At last it seemed that he would get a chance to see Merriwell work.

“Somebody ought to go down and rap Putnam on the coco with a big heavy club!” growled Collingwood.  “He should have made the change long ago.  The Harvard Willies have been piling up something every inning.”

Down on the visitors’ bench Merriwell was seen to peel off, while Gordon was talking rather excitedly to Burnham Putnam.  It seemed evident by his manner that he was speaking of something that did not please him very much.