Frank Merriwell's Athletes Part 28

Early on the morning of the previous day, after the Yale Combine had been organized, Frank had hastened to order some suits for the club, which they were to wear while taking part in certain contests. These suits were short, light trousers, scarcely coming to the knees of the wearers, and close fitting dark-blue shirts, each having a large white Y on the breast.

By paying well for it, Merry was able to get several suits rushed through, so the boys who were to take part in the sports requiring great exertion each could have a suit.

The first contest was putting the shot.

There were six contestants, and Browning came fourth on the list.

The big fellow looked fine, and said he felt well, although he growled a bit, as usual, because he had to do something besides be a spectator.

The Santa Barbara athletic club also had a big lad who was an expert shot-putter and hammer thrower. His name was Benson.

Benson was the sixth man on the list, that position having come to him by lot.

A slender chap by the name of c.u.mmings, from Salinas, started the ball rolling by making a distance of thirty-three feet and four inches.

This was not beaten till Browning came up.

"Do your best, old man," urged Frank. "You can do a good job if you try.

You know big Hickok has a record of forty-two and nine."

Bruce grunted.

"I don't suppose you expect me to beat Hickok, do you?" he growled.

"Not exactly," smiled Frank; "but you can come near him."

Browning limbered up, and then took his position. He was regarded with great curiosity, as it had become known that he was from Yale, and something good was expected of him.

His first put, however, was a disappointment to everybody, as he fell under c.u.mmings by five inches.

"Oh, he's too lazy for anything!" muttered Diamond. "He can do better than that."

"He will do better," declared Frank.

But, to the astonishment of all, Browning made scarcely thirty-one feet on his second trial.

There were cries of amus.e.m.e.nt and derision from the crowd, and a voice shouted:

"Is that one of the wonderful men from Yale? He does not seem to be such hot stuff. Wait till you see Benson toss the shot."

Browning stiffened up, and his face became set. He glanced at Frank, expecting Merriwell would be angry, but was met with a smile and a nod of encouragement.

"I'll do something this time if it's in me!" Bruce mentally vowed.

He did.

On the third trial he sent the shot whizzing through the air to fall far beyond the mark made by c.u.mmings.

When the tape was run it was found he had made thirty-eight feet and eleven inches.

Then Browning was given a round of applause, and Frank congratulated him when he stepped back into the crowd.

The man who followed Browning made thirty-two feet, and then Benson came up. Wallace Random said a few words to Santa Barbara's champion shot putter, and Benson nodded, although there was a worried look on his face.

The crowd of spectators were silent and expectant.

What would Benson do? Could he beat the man from the East?

At Benson's first trial he made thirty-seven feet and nine inches.

This brought some applause, and a man cried:

"Wait a minute! He will show you something better than that."

But to the dismay of Benson's admirers, he fell back to thirty-six on the second trial.

He prepared for the third and last effort, and it was seen by the expression of his face that he meant to beat the record if it was in him. With the shot in his hand, he poised himself for the throw, falling back on his right foot. The muscles of his right arm and shoulder stood out in hard bunches, while his left arm was extended, his hand being clinched.

A moment he remained thus, and then, with a mighty heave, he sent the shot flying through the air.

With a thud, it dropped to the sandy ground and lay still.

"He has won! He has won!"

The cry went up from Benson's friends.

"Wait a moment till the measurement is made," said Frank Merriwell, quietly, as the tape was laid.

There was a great hush of expectancy, and then the voice of the judge was heard to declare:

"Thirty-eight feet and nine inches. Bruce Browning, of Yale College, has won over all by a margin of two inches."

A moment of silence, and then the familiar Yale yell of victory pealed like a war cry from the lips of the college lads.

The Yale Combine had started out with flying colors.

CHAPTER XV-A HOT DASH

Wallace Random came around and congratulated Browning.

"You did a good job," he said, "and we'll have to take revenge off some of your friends. Don't think for a moment that we mean to let you Yale fellows carry off all the honors."

Benson came up and asked to be introduced. He proved to be a very pleasant fellow, and took his defeat gracefully.

"I did my best," he declared. "I couldn't beat it if I were to try a week. You won fairly."