“Pretty poor bowling! Pretty poor bowling!” cried Smart, as he reset the pins.
Arlington stood quite still with his ball poised and his eyes fastened on the head pin.
Sp-rr-rr-rr—crash!
Then there was a shout, for Chester had made another strike. Instantly his look of anxiety disappeared, and he smiled again as he sat down.
“I can’t bother with spares now,” he said. “I will have to scoop a few strikes.”
“Gug-gug-gug-gug-great thutteration!” stuttered Jolliby. “This is gug-gug-gug-gug-getting almighty hot!”
Although Dick rolled with the greatest care, he made a bad break with his first ball and was able to secure only eight pins in the seventh box, making a total of seventy-four.
Arlington seemed on his mettle, for his first ball gave him eight pins, and he followed this up by cutting off the remaining two, thus making another spare, which gave him twenty in his seventh box and a total of eighty-six.
“That clinches it,” he nodded.
“Sure thing!” agreed Mel Fraser. “This is going to be a corking old string!”