Merriwell’s friends were all together, and, with the possible exception of Browning, they were keenly interested. Bruce was stretched out in a lazy position on the ground, seemingly as apathetic as usual.
Bart Hodge’s dark eyes were gleaming and his cheeks glowing.
“Oh, if I could have taken part in that!” he muttered. “I don’t believe Diamond can play the game a bit better than I can.”
Bart was disappointed, and a feeling of jealousy toward Diamond had been aroused in his heart. It began to seem that Frank cared too much for Jack.
“It’s queer, too,” thought Hodge. “Diamond was growling all the time while we were in the West, and he made the rest of the crowd tired. Merry is the only one who has had any patience with him; but that’s just like Frank. He’s mighty queer, and I don’t understand him now, for all that I have known him so long.”
Kenneth St. Ives was captain of the Springbrook side, while Paul Stone commanded the other side.
“Soy,” cried Mulloy, “will yez take a look at thot ould bob Frankie is shtraddle av! Did yez ivver see th’ loikes av thot?”
“Gol darned ef that don’t look jest like dad’s old plaow hoss!” laughed Ephraim Gallup. “Ther sight of that critter makes me wish I was to hum on the farm. I’m humsick, b’gosh!”
Bruce Browning grunted and looked disgusted.
“Merry must be a fool to take such a pony!” he growled. “They’re making a guy of him.”