That let in Merriwell, who had brought Coffin Head about, and he made a skillful stroke. As he did so, he felt something whistle past his head, and realized that he had narrowly escaped a blow that must have spoiled the effectiveness of his work.
Frank did not take his eyes off the ball; but, nevertheless, he saw it was Fenton who had attempted the foul stroke, being unable to reach the ball himself.
Diamond went down on the sphere with a rush, and carried it along toward the enemy’s posts. With a clean lead at the proper moment, the Virginian, who had already showed himself a perfect horseman and perfect polo player, sent the white ball sailing through the timber, and Springbrook had made the first goal.
CHAPTER XXV—THE END OF THE GAME
Diamond was heartily congratulated, and his dark face flushed with pleasure over his success.
“But I didn’t do it alone,” he declared. “Merriwell deserves as much or more credit, for he sent it out of the bunch, and gave me my chance at it.”
“You fellows must have played together a great deal,” said Harden. “You work together perfectly.”
Frank laughed.
“We never played together in a game before,” he said. “I didn’t know Diamond played polo till a short time ago.”
“It’s remarkable!” smiled St. Ives, who was delighted over the work of his team. “And old Coffin Head is right in the game.”