It seemed to be so, for the Princeton men gave one sudden yank at the rope, and then lay still.
The yank did not stir the ribbon, and it did not call out any answering pulls from the Yale men. Many of the spectators wondered at this, and began to set up shouts to Merriwell to order a pull.
He remained perfectly quiet, paying no attention to the shouts around him, apparently not hearing them. In fact, he was not more than half conscious that there was anybody in the room except the three men directly in front of him and the four adversaries on the opposite team.
A full minute passed, during which there was some pulling by each side, and still the ribbon remained squarely over the chalk mark.
The spectators left their seats, so great was their excitement, and in spite of the efforts of the policemen who were stationed in the hall, crowded down upon the floor until they were within a few feet of the opposing teams.
Old men in the crowd who had graduated from college before Frank and his companions were born, were quite as excited as the younger men.
"Don't let it be a draw, Merriwell," shouted one white-whiskered man, waving his hat frantically.
"Princeton! Princeton!" came in a big chorus from the other side of the room, as the Princeton team lay closer to the floor and pulled at the rope with might and main.
The muscles of their arms and shoulders stood out like whipcords and the perspiration started from their brows. They were doing their best, to say the least, to prevent a draw.
It was a splendid tug; the ribbon at last began to move. It took its course slowly and by little starts and halts toward the Princeton side.