At the upper end of the floor Higgins was taking his first leap, but the managers paid little attention to him. They hoped he would win, but they were confident that whatever happened he would make a good showing, and they could not take their eyes from their champion wrestler.
Mellor was still looking as solemn as if he were at a funeral. His face was rather pale, and he sat in a chair at one side perfectly motionless until the call came to enter the ring.
Grant of Cornell, on the other hand, was laughing and chatting with his managers, and his face was pink with health.
At the call he bounded from the chair and pranced into the ring nimbly, and as the Yale managers looked him over they felt worse than ever.
Mellor got up slowly and walked, as if he dreaded the ordeal, out to meet his adversary.
"That's right, Mellor," whispered Frank, as the wrestler passed, "take it easy and don't get excited."
Mellor gave Frank a grateful look. It was the only encouraging word he had received from his managers since his foolish scrape.
He shook hands with Grant, and then stepped quickly back to his position. It was a catch-as-catch-can match, and for an instant the two big fellows stood warily watching each other before they advanced.
Meantime Yale and Cornell were setting up a chorus of howls to encourage their respective champions.
The two got together with a sudden jump that surprised everybody.