Still it looked serious for Frank, as Manton was not the sort of fellow to let slip an advantage that he had fairly within his grasp—at least, that was what his friends thought. No one could have guessed by the face of the gentleman pugilist that he was worried in the slightest degree. He pretended to enjoy it. In his heart, however, he was growling over the persistence of his opponent, which was quite unexpected.
“Why don’t you give up, Merriwell?” he laughed.
“I’m not quite ready to give up,” was the quiet answer.
“I’ve heard that he never gives up, Manton,” said Fuller.
“Some people never know when they are beaten,” chipped in Fisher.
“That’s a good qualification,” said the president of the club.
“But it makes them appear ridiculous at times, don’t you know.”
This time the pin boy had every pin up correctly. Manton hesitated as he was starting, pretended that his shoes were slippery, and resorted to the chalk box.
“He’s beginning to feel the strain,” thought Hodge, in keen satisfaction. “He’s getting shaky.”