“Fine old alley!” laughed Arlington. “That’s how, by being out of level, it robs him of almost a sure spare.”
Dick used a curve, and again it seemed that his ball would leave the alley on the right side. Once more it curved in time to cling to the edge, but it failed to touch the pin in advance and simply removed the one on the extreme corner.
“Ha! ha! ha!” laughed Chet. “That’s the time he didn’t do it! The cant on the alley surely did me a good turn then. He would have made it had the deadwood remained where it fell.”
Merriwell made no complaint, but chose his third ball, and with it sent the last standing pin against the buffer, which gave him another score of ten, with a total of twenty-nine.
“Twenty-nine,” said Chester, as he rose and looked at the score board. “I must get two pins with my first ball in order to tie him. Well, here goes for eight pins.”
Crash! He sent the ball into the pins. Six fell.
“Only six!” he exclaimed, as if disappointed.
“That puts you four in the lead in the third box,” said one of the spectators.
“That ball should have been good for eight or nine,” asserted Chester.
“Dern my picter!” exclaimed Tubbs. “He beats the earth!”