There were nine contestants entered for jumping honors. Each club was permitted to enter two men, if it wished; but only two clubs had taken advantage of this. One was the Merries. Dade Morgan had entered. This proved something of a surprise to Frost and Manton, who had not known about it. They seemed to regard it as a joke, however, for they laughed and said that Merriwell might enter his whole club without having a show. The running broad jump was started by Tom Willis, of Jersey City, who cleared nineteen feet and one inch. The next man fell an inch short of nineteen. Then came a long-limbed chap who sailed through the air and planted his heels five inches ahead of Willis’ mark. He was wildly cheered by a little group of friends. Morgan and Merriwell were standing close together and watching. “That’s pretty fair, Dade,” said Frank. “Do you think you can beat it?” “I believe I can,” nodded Morgan. The fourth jumper could not reach the mark made by the long-limbed chap. Then it was Merriwell’s turn. A cheer went up as Frank stripped off his sweater and made ready. Every one seemed to expect something great of him. Hodge and Starbright were watching from the stand. “Merry will show them a trick now,” said Bart. “I can jump some myself; but I’m not in it with him. I don’t see why Morgan went into this.” “Frank wanted him to.” “Oh, he did?” “Yes. You know Morgan was a wonderful jumper at college. Merry was the only man who ever defeated him, and that was by not more than an inch or so. I think he’s in perfect form. Our trip has done him good. He was run down when Frank took hold of him in New York last fall; but he has built up wonderfully. He says Merry saved his life.” There was a hush now, as Merry walked out to the starting point. “’Rah for Merriwell!” cried an enthusiast. “That’s Grafter!” laughed Manton, turning to look at the stand. “He expects to win a thousand off me to-day. I knew better than to bet on the jumping, and I have him caught on the pole vaulting, for he loses no matter what happens, if Merriwell does not win. Merriwell may have a broken neck before the day is over.” “I hope he gets it,” said Frost, in his cold-blooded manner. “You can’t hope so any more than I do.” “He’s going to make his first trial. Watch.” Frank toed the starting line. He crouched and seemed to gather himself. Then he sped along the run, every muscle tense, a look of resolution on his handsome face. He came up to the mark in perfect stride and launched himself into the air. The manner in which he sailed over the ground caused more than one witness to gasp with surprise and admiration. His feet were drawn well under him, and at precisely the proper moment he launched them forward. He struck perfectly and came up without a “bobble.” The crowd shouted. They knew he had made the best jump thus far. Dent Frost whistled in dismay. “Manton, he’s a wonder!” he muttered. “I think he wins!” “Don’t you believe it. Necker is the man.”