Dick Merriwell's Day; Or, Iron Nerve

The recent victories of the Seaslope team had enthused its spectators, and the game this day had been witnessed by a wonderfully large crowd. Early in the season, when Seaslope was losing steadily, it had been difficult to get out a respectable gathe ... Read more

The recent victories of the Seaslope team had enthused its spectators, and the game this day had been witnessed by a wonderfully large crowd. Early in the season, when Seaslope was losing steadily, it had been difficult to get out a respectable gathering of spectators. Merriwell could not help thinking of the change as he watched the well-satisfied throng pouring out at the open gate of the inclosure. At last Seaslope was making money, and Jared Whitcomb, the manager of the team, was smiling and well satisfied. “We’ve just about time enough to catch the next car for Rockford,” said Garrett, looking at his watch. “Have you picked up all the stuff, fellows? Got all the bats? Where’s the body protector? Don’t leave anything.” Less