Frank Merriwell's Athletes Part 43

Whirling Bear, although the commander of the side that Frank was on, had said nothing to Merriwell, and he seemed to show signs of disgust, as if he were not pleased that it should have been a white lad who had knocked the ball.

Dan Carver did not seem at all disturbed by what had happened, but continued to take bets, offering to place any sum on Swiftwing at one or two.

In a moment the game was resumed, and it went forward with more intensity than before. The players seemed warmed up to the work, and their skill in keeping the ball in the air was astonishing, to say the least.

Several of the white players won some glory.

Both Diamond and Rattleton got in good strokes, and Bruce Browning struck once with all the power in his muscular arms, sending the ball so high into the air that it was a mere speck and almost went out of sight.

"Begorra! it's not such fun as this Oi've had since Oi attinded me larst Oirish fair!" cried Barney, who was in his element. "This b'ates a wake!"

"It's a darn sight more fun than shuckin' corn at a huskin'-bee!"

grinned Ephraim Gallup. "Take that, gol darn ye!"

He managed to hit the ball at last, after missing it three times, and nearly turning himself wrong side out with the violence of his efforts.

"Whee!" he squealed, as the little sphere carromed off his bat and whizzed into the air. "I bet a squash that started the bark on her!"

Toots got a crack on the shins that upset him and made him howl with pain.

"Land ob wartermillions!" he wailed. "Nebber see no such mess as dis am!

Dutchmans an' Irish all mixed up in a stew! An' ebry one ob um seems tryin' teh git a crack at de n.i.g.g.e.r's shins wif dem sticks! I's gwan teh retellyate on some p.u.s.s.en bimer-by-yes, sar!"

Once Harry Rattleton was able to save Swiftwing's side from a second and final defeat. An Indian struck and missed the ball, but Harry caught it with his bat, having struck almost at the same instant.

"Gear she hoes-I mean here she goes!" he yelled. "Can't do it again over there! We're going to do you up, after all!"

Finally three players on Whirling Bear's side ran for a ball. Dunnerwust and Toots were two of them, and they both fell down, while an Indian fell on top of them.

Over the three sailed Bart Hodge, his bat poised and his teeth set. He reached the ball and kept it from striking the ground, but it glanced from his bat and went off sideways.

It went in a bad direction.

Whirling Bear tried to reach it, but failed, and it fell to the ground.

And now the sides were tied with the chances even for the final struggle.

CHAPTER XXIII-THE WRESTLING MATCH

Less than half a minute elapsed before the game was resumed.

The players went at it with unabated energy and enthusiasm, and the excitement was more intense than ever.

This round would settle it.

Whirling Bear was in a bad humor. Although one of the white lads had won the first set with a drive, it seemed to Whirling Bear that the second one had been lost because Hodge had not hit the ball as skillfully as he might.

In fact, Hodge had done well to reach it at all.

Frank and Whirling Bear both rushed at the ball and came face to face.

As Frank struck, he saw the Indian swing his bat.

Whirling Bear did not strike at the ball, although he pretended to do so.

He struck straight at Frank Merriwell's head.

Merry saw this and dodged.

He succeeded in hitting the ball, and he escaped Whirling Bear's bat at the same time. The bat whizzed through the air.

In another moment Frank was ready to meet the Indian's a.s.sault, but, seeing he had failed in the first attempt, the Pueblo darted away.

"That fellow is treacherous," Merriwell decided. "He has a grudge against me for some reason, and I'll have to keep my eye on him. If he had hit me, my skull would have been cracked."

Inza witnessed Merriwell's peril, and she caught her breath, uttering a little cry of terror. When Frank dodged, she breathed again, and she panted:

"Go for him, Frank-don't let him get away!"

Whirling Bear, however, got away like a leaping cat, and continued giving orders to his men as if nothing unusual had happened.

Faster and more furious waxed the game. Spurred on by the shouts and yells of the spectators, each side was exerting itself to the very utmost.

It was really very exciting, and the skill of the players aroused the admiration of all. The Indians handled themselves in a remarkable manner, and, with one or two exceptions, the white boys were doing almost as well.

On Whirling Bear's side Merriwell and Hodge were the most conspicuous among the white players, while Mulloy and Diamond showed great skill and judgment on the other side.

"Hurro!" the Irish lad was heard to shout. "It's hot shtuff we are, an'

don't yez fergit thot! Erin go braugh! Th' United States an' Ould Oireland feriver!"

For some moments there was a furious volleying, so fierce at moments that the eye followed the movements of the players and the flying ball with no little difficulty.

Inza Burrage was greatly excited. She clapped her hands and waved her handkerchief.

"Oh, aunt!" she cried; "it's almost as good as a football game! Isn't it just perfectly splendid!"

"It is confusing-very confusing," said Miss Abigail, severely. "It seems to be a genuine savage game."

At last Hodge saw his opportunity, and he drove the ball toward an opening in the ranks of the opposing players. It was skillfully done, and, almost before any one could realize it the game was over, Whirling Bear's side having conquered.

Then the Indians danced and sang songs of victory.

Swiftwing seemed to take his defeat gracefully, and he insisted that the white boys, Merriwell and Hodge, and not members of his own race had brought it about.

Frank told Swiftwing that he was astonished to find the Indians played the game with so much skill.