Merry’s a jolly good fellow,
Merry’s a jolly good fellow,
Which nobody can deny.”
“Wouldn’t that make you sick!” growled Fillmore. “Merriwell gave Harvard more trouble than any other ten Yale men when he was in college, yet here are those Harvard chaps joining the Yale gang in singing his praises.”
The teams lined up, and once more Vernell proved his skill at centre by drawing the ball from Hackett, much to the disgust of the latter.
The first half had been lively; the second half was hot. Both teams went into it fiercely, straining every nerve. Up and down the field flew the ball. Woodin made some splendid runs. Fillmore distinguished himself by taking the ball out of Morgan’s stick just as Dade was on the point of trying for goal. At times it was difficult to follow all the rapid plays.
Still it was some time before either side forced the goal guards to sweat. Hodge was the first one compelled to work hard, and he made five difficult stops in rapid succession, causing the spectators to cheer him loudly.
Frank laughed softly.
“Good old Bart!” he muttered. “I knew I had picked the right man to guard the net. Reckon Onslaw knows it now.”
Onslaw had advised Frank to use Wilson.