The note reached Merriwell when he had finished talking with Forrest. He took it in surprise, and then opened it hastily. A gasp came from his lips when he saw the writing.
"From Inza!" he whispered.
This is what he read:
"Dear Frank: Did not receive your letter till this morning. Too late then to answer. Had left New Haven for Boston before I read it. You asked me to release you from your promise not to play football. No, I will not! You must not play! If you do, I'll never speak to you again! I know Yale will win if you play! You must not play! Hastily,
"Inza."
"Line up!"
The game was about to begin!
Frank tore the note into many pieces, and those pieces he tossed aside. His face was stern and determined.
"It's for old Yale—dear old Yale!" he muttered. "She has no right to ask so much of me without giving me a reason for it. I must play—I will play!"
Out to positions went the two teams. They lined up for business, and a great hush came over the mighty jam of spectators.
Yale had the first kick-off, and Merriwell balanced himself for it.