“He’ll keep his lead now!” declared Bert to Phil. “Don’t you fear about that!”
Merry was not smiling. He knew that overconfidence might prove a great mistake, and yet he was determined to win if possible. However, his first ball slipped from his fingers and barely knocked down a single pin on the corner.
Dashleigh wanted to whoop again, while Browning felt like thumping somebody. Only Buck Badger remained perfectly unshaken in his belief that Merriwell could not fail to win.
Frank was deliberate in his movements, and he placed the next ball to a fraction of an inch. The result was the complete collapse of the pins and a spare for him in his last box!
Dashleigh’s heart went into his boots, while Phil Starbright simply sat down on a bench, gasping.
“Twenty in the ninth; one hundred and twelve total,” said Bert huskily. “I’m afraid that does the trick!”
The pins were up, and Starbright prepared for the last effort. His first ball brought everybody to his or her toes, for it went straight and true into the proper place, and down crashed nine pins.
“Hooray!” yelled Phil, leaping up. “He’s going to do the same thing! He’ll get a spare, too!”
But now Starbright found himself shaking a bit. In this respect he lacked Merriwell’s nerve, for Frank was always the coolest and steadiest when the critical moment came.
“I must do it!” thought Dick, but in his heart there was a faint fear that he might fail. He sent the ball straight toward the pin, and several cried: