Frank Merriwell's Endurance; or, A Square Shooter

by Burt L. Standish

Finally Hodge turned to Gamp, who was pulling on his sweater.

“I beg your pardon, Joe,” he said sincerely. “I was wrong. I know it. You were not to blame.”

“Yes, I was!” persisted Gamp, willing and ready to shoulder the burden.

“Not a bit of it,” asserted Bart. “It was fate. We had to lose the game. We were all to blame. We couldn’t hit Wolfers! I’d like to try it again!” he savagely ended.

“We’d all like to try it again,” said Browning.

“Can’t we?” eagerly asked Rattleton.

“Let’s!” grunted Badger.

“Get together, fellows,” directed Frank. “We’ll give Elkton a cheer.”

“It’s their place to cheer us first,” objected Hodge.

“Never mind that. We’ll get ahead of them. Open it up good and hearty. Let’s show them that we can lose without crying baby. None of us fancies a baby.”