After a few moments of hesitation, St. Ives led the way into the stable, and the boys looked the other ponies over. One of them was a homely old crock, with knees and hocks bunched up out of all semblance to those built on strictly anatomical principles. This pony attracted Merriwell’s attention. “That is Coffin Head,” said St. Ives. Instantly an inspiration seized Frank. “If you don’t mind,” he said, “I’ll ride Coffin Head.” Kenneth gasped. “You can’t mean it!” he exclaimed. “I do,” nodded Merry. “Somehow I’ve taken a fancy to the old fellow. You say he has been a good one?” “One of the best.” “Then he hasn’t forgotten the tricks of the business. I’m going to try him.” “The boys will have sport with you, Merry,” said Diamond. “Let ’em,” smiled Frank. “I may get as much sport out of it as they do. May I have Coffin Head, St. Ives!” “Of course you may if you want him,” said Kenneth, “but I’m sorry that——” “Never mind it!” came gayly from Merriwell. “Saddle up old Coffin Head for me, boy,” he cried, to one of the assistant hostlers. “I’ll manage to take some part in the game. Hurrah for Coffin Head, the old-timer! He may prove a surprise party for somebody.” CHAPTER XXIV—THE FIRST GO Tang! tang! It was the timekeeper’s gong, and the game of polo was begun with a charge. Each team had lined up within twenty feet of their respective goals, and, as the ball was dropped in center field, the little ponies tore forward like blooded racers. It was a spectacle to send the blood leaping in an instant. For all that the game had been hastily gotten up, the boundary line was crowded with the _élite_ of the countryside. It seemed as if people had risen from the ground. Merriwell’s friends were all together, and, with the possible exception of Browning, they were keenly interested. Bruce was stretched out in a lazy position on the ground, seemingly as apathetic as usual. Bart Hodge’s dark eyes were gleaming and his cheeks glowing. “Oh, if I could have taken part in that!” he muttered. “I don’t believe Diamond can play the game a bit better than I can.” Bart was disappointed, and a feeling of jealousy toward Diamond had been aroused in his heart. It began to seem that Frank cared too much for Jack. “It’s queer, too,” thought Hodge. “Diamond was growling all the time while we were in the West, and he made the rest of the crowd tired. Merry is the only one who has had any patience with him; but that’s just like Frank. He’s mighty queer, and I don’t understand him now, for all that I have known him so long.” Kenneth St. Ives was captain of the Springbrook side, while Paul Stone commanded the other side. “Soy,” cried Mulloy, “will yez take a look at thot ould bob Frankie is shtraddle av! Did yez ivver see th’ loikes av thot?” “Gol darned ef that don’t look jest like dad’s old plaow hoss!” laughed Ephraim Gallup. “Ther sight of that critter makes me wish I was to hum on the farm. I’m humsick, b’gosh!”