“Look at that deadwood!” burst from Arlington. “Why, the confounded alley isn’t level! The left-hand corner is lower than the other, or that pin wouldn’t roll across in such a manner.” “The left-hand corner is lower,” immediately agreed one of the spectators. “We discovered that several days ago.” “Well, that puts a big element of chance into the game,” declared Chet. “When the pins roll like that there is no telling what may happen.” The rolling pin, however, stopped against one of the two left standing, and Chester studied its position. “That isn’t so bad,” he finally declared. “If I can hit that deadwood fairly I know I can get the pin it rests against, and the deadwood ought to drop the other pin. Watch me do it.” Having called their attention in this manner, he chose his ball and with careless ease and assurance sent it straight at the end of the deadwood. The ball did not swerve a fraction of an inch during its course down the alley. It struck the deadwood perfectly, and in a twinkling both pins were down. Arlington had made his first spare. Exclamations of satisfaction and applause burst from a number of the witnesses, while Dick Merriwell generously clapped his hands and said: “That was a beautiful shot, Arlington.” “Oh, I knew I could do it!” smiled Chester in a most conceited and lofty manner. “I can always do a thing like that when I have to. You can’t beat me at this little game, Merriwell.” Ted Smart heard these words, even though he was standing up the pins at the far end of the alley. “If there’s anything I admire it’s a chap that never boasts!” cried Ted. “There’s the modest fellow for you!” “Until you finish setting up those pins you’d better be seen and not heard!” warmly retorted Arlington. Dick followed with a handsome break, leaving only two pins standing. “There is a spare for him,” declared Black. “If he gets it,” said Chet instantly. A deadwood had fallen in such a manner that it seemed certain Dick could not miss sweeping down the pins with it. While he was picking up his next ball, however, this deadwood began to roll toward the lower side of the alley, and by the time he was ready it was too far from the standing pins to be any use against them. “Fine old alley!” laughed Arlington. “That’s how, by being out of level, it robs him of almost a sure spare.” Dick used a curve, and again it seemed that his ball would leave the alley on the right side. Once more it curved in time to cling to the edge, but it failed to touch the pin in advance and simply removed the one on the extreme corner. “Ha! ha! ha!” laughed Chet. “That’s the time he didn’t do it! The cant on the alley surely did me a good turn then. He would have made it had the deadwood remained where it fell.” Merriwell made no complaint, but chose his third ball, and with it sent the last standing pin against the buffer, which gave him another score of ten, with a total of twenty-nine.