Frank Merriwell's Return to Yale

by Burt L. Standish

"I believe it," grinned Harris. "We'll have money to burn after this game."

Suddenly another kind of a cheer rent the air, and now the blue was waving everywhere. Onto the field came the Yale eleven at a sharp trot.

Harris and Harlowe laughed and nudged each other with their elbows.

"See the little lambs!" chuckled the sport.

"Coming to the slaughter!" grinned Rolf.

"Too bad!"

"It's a shame!"

"I feel for them."

"I expect to feel for that money. Where's Ott?"

"Why, he's right over—over there—where the dickens is Ott?"