The disappointment of Dick’s friends seemed acute, but Dick accepted defeat with the same composure that was habitual with him in times of triumph.
“You hold the record on the alley, Arlington,” he said. “One hundred and nineteen was the record before.”
“Oh, that’s a poor string for me!” asserted Chester laughingly.
Brad Buckhart was furious, but he managed to suppress his anger.
Dick slipped on his coat and walked away.
“Of all the beastly luck I ever saw!” growled the Texan, joining him. “Why didn’t you challenge him to bowl again?”
“Because our agreement at the start was that we were to roll only one string. That settled it.”
“But you should have won! You would have won only for that rolling deadwood!”
“Forget it!” smiled Dick. “It is of no consequence.”
“What? No consequence? No consequence to have that fellow beat you? Why, pard, he is not in your class at anything!”