“Why didn’t Merry try more than once?” he muttered huskily. “He could have done better! Now he’s lost his chance!” “Wait,” said Starbright. “Let’s see what Morgan will do.” “Oh, Morgan isn’t in that class! It’s a shame!” Still Dick clung to hope, thinking it possible Morgan might do something that would surprise every one. Necker was satisfied. He knew he had done his handsomest and that he would fall back if he made another attempt. He had added some inches to his own best record, besides defeating Merriwell. Dade Morgan, slender, graceful, and electric, walked toward the starting point. “Who is he?” was the question asked by many in the stand. “Oh, he’s one of Merriwell’s team,” was the answer. “He won’t cut much ice.” In all his body Morgan felt the current of life running strong. He believed himself physically at the top notch. He was full of confidence. In his college days he had never covered twenty-one feet, but something told him he was a better man than he had been in those days. He was matured; his powers were at their flood. Crouching, he set his teeth and gripped his hands. He started slowly and surely, gathering speed and power. When he reached the take-off mark he was flying. Into the air he went, shooting forward like a bird on the wing. On and on he sailed. It was all over in a moment, but the spectators rose. They knew Morgan had landed almost in the tracks of Necker. Denton Frost actually staggered. “What do you think of that?” he gasped. “I fear he has tied Necker!” “I fear he has beaten him!” grated Manton. “Impossible! Who is this Morgan? Whoever heard of him?” “Oh, he was a rattler at college until he began to dissipate. Then they said he broke down and lost ambition. I’ve been told he was the most dangerous rival Merriwell ever had at Yale.” “If he has beaten Necker——” “It will be a bitter pill to swallow.” “They are going to measure. He isn’t going to jump again! By the great Harry! he’s beaten Necker, or he would try again. He’s the last man and——” He checked himself and waited. The tape was stretched. Again the measurers took the utmost care, watched by the judges. The crowd waited. Then one of the judges turned and held up his hand. “Dade Morgan’s record is——” He paused. The hush of great expectancy seemed to keep every one from breathing. He finished: “Twenty-one feet and three inches! Morgan wins the broad jump.” Two more disgusted men than Frost and Manton it would have been hard to find. They had not dreamed the broad jump would be won in such a manner. Of course, Necker was also disgusted, but he tried to conceal it and appear a good loser. The high jump followed. Ten men were entered for this, both Morgan and Merriwell being of the number. Necker resolved to retrieve himself. Manton found an opportunity to speak to him and urge him to try, as if his life depended on it. “You were too confident,” said Manton.