Merry sent the balls into the midst of the pins.
Crash!
“All down!” exclaimed Fuller. “Thirty for Merriwell in the second box, with a total of thirty-nine.”
“Which is a long distance to the bad,” observed Frost.
Manton frowned the least bit. Merriwell was altogether too successful in following up with strikes.
“Why don’t you quit it?” he cried, pretending to joke.
“I’m waiting for you to quit,” retorted Frank.
“You may have to wait a long time.”
“I don’t think you’ll go all the way through the string with strikes.”
“I may.”