Dick’s ball seemed to strike them handsomely, and he swept down eight pins, leaving, however, one standing on each corner. “Now that was hard lul-lul-lul-luck!” came from Jolliby. Merriwell said nothing. Picking up another ball, he took his position on the left side of the runway and prepared to try for one of the pins. As he started to bowl some of his friends uttered low exclamations of dismay, for it seemed that the wooden sphere would leave the alley four or five feet before it reached the pin. Nevertheless, this did not happen, for the ball took a pretty curve and clung to the edge of the alley until it struck the pin fairly and sent it spinning against the buffer. “Ha!” was the cry. “He did it!” “Well, there is one remaining on the other corner,” laughed Chet. “Let’s see him pick that off.” “He will do it, you bet your boots!” declared Buckhart. Dick now got into position at the right hand of the runway and rolled what is called a “cross-alley” ball. That is, he rolled the ball so that it started on the right side of the alley, crossing diagonally to the left on a perfect line for the pin at the corner. In this manner this pin was picked off, and Gardner called: “Ten pins for Merriwell!” “Beautiful work!” exclaimed one of the boys, while several clapped their hands softly. “Evidently you’re going to stretch yourself, Merriwell,” laughed Arlington, maintaining that insolent atmosphere. “You will have to stretch yourself, all right, my fine fellow. I haven’t started to bowl yet.” “You’d better start right away,” said Buckhart, whereupon Dick promptly stepped over to Brad, to whom he spoke in a low tone. “Don’t make any talk, old man,” he said. “I have more friends here than he has, and I want him to have just as good a show as I do. If he beats me let him do it fairly; if I beat him I will do so without taking any advantage.” “Well, you’re a whole lot scrupulous!” growled the Texan. “That galoot certain has missed no opportunity to take advantage of you.” “Do you wish me to put myself on the same level?” “You can’t get down to his level in a year if you try!” The pins were up and Arlington was ready. He thrust up his right sleeve a little farther, so that the lower portion of his swelling biceps could be seen. Chester did not use a curve, but rolled a ball with a moderate amount of speed, starting his first one in each set from the right side of the alley and sending it toward the head pin. This time he barely missed the pin in advance, and the ball lopped off the entire side of the bunch, leaving four standing on the opposite side. “That would have been a strike if he had touched the head pin,” declared one of the spectators. “It is a spare now,” averred Arlington, with unshaken confidence. “I can’t miss them.” At this statement some one laughed. “Oh, laugh away!” exclaimed Chet. “But just watch this ball a moment!”