“I don’t believe Smart had them on the spots,” declared Chet, standing with his hands on hips and glaring at the two pins left upright. “That ball should have taken them, sure.”
“What a shame!” cried Smart. “I am so disappointed!”
“That will do for you!” flared Chet. “While you’re setting up pins, you’re supposed[supposed] to be dead!”
Arlington sat down with an air of dissatisfaction.
It was now Dick’s turn, and he was ready by the time Ted had the pins up.
Dick’s ball seemed to strike them handsomely, and he swept down eight pins, leaving, however, one standing on each corner.
“Now that was hard lul-lul-lul-luck!” came from Jolliby.
Merriwell said nothing. Picking up another ball, he took his position on the left side of the runway and prepared to try for one of the pins. As he started to bowl some of his friends uttered low exclamations of dismay, for it seemed that the wooden sphere would leave the alley four or five feet before it reached the pin. Nevertheless, this did not happen, for the ball took a pretty curve and clung to the edge of the alley until it struck the pin fairly and sent it spinning against the buffer.
“Ha!” was the cry. “He did it!”
“Well, there is one remaining on the other corner,” laughed Chet. “Let’s see him pick that off.”