Читать книгу Frank Merriwell's Marriage; Or, Inza's Happiest Day онлайн

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“One hundred and ninety-three in the eighth box, and two hundred and two in the ninth,” said Fuller.

“Ten ahead of Merriwell in the eighth,” muttered Frost, clinging to hope. “Let’s see what Merriwell will do.”

Frank’s turn came directly, and he went after the pins in a resolute manner.

He got them.

“Strike!” was the shout, as he swept them all down.

Manton seemed to turn green.

Grafter opened his lips to rejoice, but changed his mind and said nothing.

“Luck—nothing but luck!” said Frost freezingly.

Still Manton did not give up, for he knew there was a possibility that his antagonist might take a terrible slump in the last box.

“Keep after him, old man,” urged Fisher. “You may pull out.”

“Not much chance for it,” confessed Manton; but still he tried hard, and swept down all the pins.

“Roll it off; it’s your last box,” said Fuller.

Manton repeated the trick twice more.

“A good string,” observed Fisher.

“Not for me,” muttered the gentleman pugilist, as he went for his collar and necktie.