Then, in a moment, she laughed merrily, warning Frank to take care to make as many as thirteen.
Merry started in. Fortunately, the ivories lay well for him, and he ran off point after point with care and still with swiftness till he had made thirty-one. Then he missed on an effort to gather them in a corner.
“That is thirteen turned round,” he laughed; “but it may be just as unlucky.”
“I’d rather take my chances on it,” declared Dick.
Starbright seemed to have the balls in a good position, and again he began playing with care—too much care, perhaps, for he missed with his third shot.
“Oh!” again came from Inza’s lips. “I don’t believe you’re even going to make it interesting.”
“I’m afraid not,” admitted Dick, with a tone of the utmost regret. “But you may be sure I shall do my best.”
Frank ran seventeen more points before missing, making him forty-eight in all, while Dick had only fifteen.
There was a look of grim determination on Dick’s face as he began again.
“Get into the game and make a touch-down,” urged Ready. “What are we paying our money for! With such a prize in view, I could run a hundred—feet. Oh, you should see me dally with the ivories! It is a sight to make the gods weep.”