The Eagle Heights man took his time when the pins were spotted. He chalked the soles of his feet, moistened his fingers the least bit with the sponge, chose his favorite ball, made his habitual swing and smashed down every pin for the third time. “Thirty in the first box,” said Fuller. “Which leads Merriwell twenty-one,” observed Fisher. “That’s quite a handicap.” “It is when a man seems determined to make strikes right along,” admitted Frank good-naturedly. “I think I have my hand in your pocket, Grafter,” chuckled Manton. “Perhaps so,” admitted the great shot putter of the Catskill Club. “But ‘there’s many a slip,’ you know. Don’t be too sure of anything in this world. It doesn’t pay. I’ve found that out by experience.” “He’s setting a hard pace, Mr. Merriwell,” said Fisher, with affected politeness, yet plainly with the idea of rubbing Frank against the grain. “He is,” confessed Frank; “but that makes it all the more interesting.” “Your sand seems good.” Fuller shook his head at Fisher, but the latter pretended he did not see it. Frank did not hurry. When he did deliver the ball he sent it once more to the exact spot he wished. Nine pins fell. Hodge uttered an exclamation of bitter disappointment, followed by another of exultation; for the tenth pin, which had been tottering, finally fell. “That’s great luck for you, Merriwell,” declared Manton. “You got that strike by the skin of your teeth.” “It would have been a shame had he missed,” said Hodge. “He struck the pins perfectly.” “Still you know such things happen and leave pins standing at times. I thought he struck a trifle too far to the right.” Fisher and Frost exchanged glances and moved closer together. “This Merriwell is no slouch at it,” said Fisher, in a low tone. “He’s keeping right after Manton.” “That’s right; but I don’t believe he can crowd him very hard. He’ll slip up pretty soon.” “It’s not impossible for Manton to slip up.” “But Manton is not the kind to slip up in a case like this. He’s a sticker.” By this time Manton was ready again. Again he did the trick, although, as in the case of Merry, one pin threatened not to fall. “That would have been tough!” declared the Eagle Heights man, with relief. “Of course you struck the pins just right,” muttered Hodge. “Yes, I did!” exclaimed Manton. “Any one could see that.” “It seems to make a difference who rolls the ball,” said Hodge. “Thirty in the second box for Manton, total of sixty,” said Fuller, as he marked the score down. When the pins were spotted Frank discovered two that were not set right. He instructed the boy to place them squarely on the spots, which was done. “Better be careful,” sneered Frost; but pretended to laugh. Manton had made four strikes in succession. His friends fancied this would begin to shake Merriwell’s nerve; but that was because they did not know Frank, whose nerves invariably became steadier when engaged in a trying contest of any sort.