Merriwell’s friends got together, prepared to cheer when the next ball was broken.
Frank stood in readiness for the next ball.
“A thousand demons!” huskily whispered the foreman of the Lone Star. “If that half-breed——”
Snap!—a white ball sailed into the air.
Bang!—Frank tossed the gun to his shoulder and fired.
At the same instant he was seen to reel, drop the gun and fall forward on his face, as if death-stricken.
But he had smashed the ninety-seventh ball and won the shoot-off!
CHAPTER XXXV—WHO FIRED THE SHOT
Frank was lifted and carried into the house, and a cowboy by the name of Fisher, who had once practiced medicine, and was something of a surgeon, was rushed in to attend to him.
The cowboys and the others scattered to search for the unknown who had fired the dastardly shot.