The whisper was loud enough for every one to hear, and Frost was rewarded by several hisses from the spectators.
Boom!—the ball sped down the alley.
“It’s another strike!” exclaimed an excited watcher.
Crash!
A dozen persons shouted, for it was a strike.
“Still he’s only one hundred and twenty-nine in his fifth, against your one forty-seven,” murmured Fisher, in the ear of Manton.
“But his strike gives him the advantage on the next two boxes,” muttered the gentleman pugilist huskily.
“He can’t beat you if you get right down to it.”
“I’ll do all I can.”