“Oh, but I’m slow!” exclaimed Ready. “Why didn’t I have my eyes open and get into that? It was ever thus! I’m getting to be a retired number.”
“I don’t see but you’ll have to surrender to both, Inza,” laughed Winnie.
“Oh, I can’t do that,” she protested. “They must settle it between them somehow. Till they do, let both keep their distance.”
Then she skipped away from them, leaving them standing there, face to face. Dick looked straight into Frank’s eyes, smiling a bit, but there was a challenge in his aspect and look. More than ever Merry realized that this big, fair-haired youth was a rival at whom it were folly to scoff.
“How shall we settle it?” asked Merriwell pleasantly. “I’ll let you name the manner, Dick.”
“Another game of billiards,” suggested Ready. “That’s the trick! Ah! it takes me to solve these little difficulties. I’m a handy chap to have round.”
“No,” said Starbright. “I have another way.”
“Name it,” urged Merry.
“We’ll bowl a string of candlepins. The one who makes the highest score wins the privilege given by the mistletoe.”
“Done!”