Frank Merriwell's Champions Part 38

"I do," nodded Merry. "Somehow I've taken a fancy to the old fellow. You say he has been a good one?"

"One of the best."

"Then he hasn't forgotten the tricks of the business. I'm going to try him."

"The boys will have sport with you, Merry," said Diamond.

"Let 'em," smiled Frank. "I may get as much sport out of it as they do.

May I have Coffin Head, St. Ives!"

"Of course you may if you want him," said Kenneth, "but I'm sorry that--"

"Never mind it!" came gayly from Merriwell. "Saddle up old Coffin Head for me, boy," he cried, to one of the a.s.sistant hostlers. "I'll manage to take some part in the game. Hurrah for Coffin Head, the old-timer! He may prove a surprise party for somebody."

CHAPTER XXIV-THE FIRST GO

Tang! tang!

It was the timekeeper's gong, and the game of polo was begun with a charge.

Each team had lined up within twenty feet of their respective goals, and, as the ball was dropped in center field, the little ponies tore forward like blooded racers.

It was a spectacle to send the blood leaping in an instant.

For all that the game had been hastily gotten up, the boundary line was crowded with the _elite_ of the countryside. It seemed as if people had risen from the ground.

Merriwell's friends were all together, and, with the possible exception of Browning, they were keenly interested. Bruce was stretched out in a lazy position on the ground, seemingly as apathetic as usual.

Bart Hodge's dark eyes were gleaming and his cheeks glowing.

"Oh, if I could have taken part in that!" he muttered. "I don't believe Diamond can play the game a bit better than I can."

Bart was disappointed, and a feeling of jealousy toward Diamond had been aroused in his heart. It began to seem that Frank cared too much for Jack.

"It's queer, too," thought Hodge. "Diamond was growling all the time while we were in the West, and he made the rest of the crowd tired.

Merry is the only one who has had any patience with him; but that's just like Frank. He's mighty queer, and I don't understand him now, for all that I have known him so long."

Kenneth St. Ives was captain of the Springbrook side, while Paul Stone commanded the other side.

"Soy," cried Mulloy, "will yez take a look at thot ould bob Frankie is shtraddle av! Did yez ivver see th' loikes av thot?"

"Gol darned ef that don't look jest like dad's old plaow hoss!" laughed Ephraim Gallup. "Ther sight of that critter makes me wish I was to hum on the farm. I'm humsick, b'gosh!"

Bruce Browning grunted and looked disgusted.

"Merry must be a fool to take such a pony!" he growled. "They're making a guy of him."

"G'way dar, boy!" muttered Toots, shaking his head. "Don't yeh beliebe yehself! Dey don' mek no guy ob dat boy ver' much."

"Say, Browning," cried Rattleton, excitedly, "you ought to know better than to think anybody can fake a mool-I mean make a fool of Frank."

"Yaw!" nodded Hans; "I oughter known petter dan dot, hand't you? Vot do I take you for, Prowning! Vere you peen all my life, ain'd id? You don'd fool Vrankie Merrivell haluf so much as I think you can, you pet my axidental bolicy."

In the opening charge Frank did not get in quite as quick as the others.

Mounted on Liner, Steve Fenton shot down on the ball, and with a skillful crack, sent it skimming toward the Springbrook goal, causing a shout to go up from the spectators.

"He'll make a goal for Meadowfair, in less than two--Great Scott! how'd the boy do that?"

Frank, somewhat behind the others, had caught the ball as it skimmed like a bullet over the ground, even though it seemed that he must have swung his mallet almost at the same instant as Fenton. The first crack was answered by a second, and the ba.s.swood ball suddenly went skimming back toward the Meadowfair side, with Diamond racing after it to send it through.

But Liner showed his mettle. It did not seem that Fenton paid the least attention to the pony, but the creature twisted about in a moment, and carried its rider along at Diamond's side.

It was a brief but most exciting race, and the spectators cheered and waved their handkerchiefs.

"Go it, Diamond, old boy!" cried Harry Rattleton.

"Go id, Shack, oldt poy!" shouted Hans, hopping about like a toad. "You vill pet on my head!"

"Git doawn an' crawl, gol darn ye!" whooped Ephraim. "Naow hit her a knockaout blow, and-- Great gosh!"

In a most skillful manner Fenton's pony had forced Diamond's mount over, and the dark-faced man swung across in time to get a crack at the ball.

The skill with which he struck it told that he was the most dangerous player on the Meadowfair side.

"Look out there, Harden!" cried St. Ives.

Harry stopped the ball, but it caromed from his mallet and came near going out of bounds. In a twinkling there was another hot rush and a threatened crash. Immediately all the players were clumped about the ball.

"Where are you, number one?" cried Paul Stone. "Strike, Kimball-strike, man! What's the matter with you?"

For some moments the ball "hung," and the players "dribbled"; but they were cool, and Lock made a neat and quick turn, pa.s.sing the ball to Fenton, who took it up and hit it to boundary.

Over the board went the ponies, and the sticks crooked as they tried to give the ball a fillip outside. But Diamond, "half-back" for Springbrook, saw his opportunity, made a rush and a hard backhander on the near side, and out shot the little white sphere on its way to glory.

Merriwell was on it, as if he had been waiting for that very play. His stick, which he had selected with great care, seemed to swing free for a moment from the strap about his wrist, then the malacca did its work.

"Hooray!" cried Ephraim Gallup. "It's a goal sure! Hooray!"

"Yaw!" screamed Hans, "id peen a dandy!"

"Outside! outside!"

"Who says outside?" snapped Rattleton. "The referee? I know better! It's a goal sure!"

"Outside, I tell you!" came the voice of the referee, and the game stopped.