CHAPTER XXXIA BILLIARD-MATCH.
Winnie and Inza, with Buck and Mr. Burrage, arrived the following day and found an enthusiastic lot of young men there at the Starbright homestead. Frank was the first to meet Inza, and he gave her hand a warm pressure, while telling her how glad he was that she had come.
“We’ll have a glorious time here,” he declared. “The finest old place in all New York! A billiard-room, a bowling-alley, a regular gymnasium—oh, but old Captain Starbright knew how to lay out his money to make an ideal home! And Dick’s mother—one of the gentlest mothers in the world. She’ll make you welcome, you may be sure.”
She did; she took the girls to her heart and said those things which only a woman like her would know how to say to make them feel how glad she was to see them. In a moment they were at their ease.
She shook hands with Buck and Mr. Burrage. Something she said to the young Westerner, giving Winnie a glance, brought the color to Buck’s face and made him throw back his shoulders and look very proud.
Browning, with his hunger abated, smoking a pipe, was comfortable and at his ease; but not even the sating of Ready’s hunger had toned him down. He was the same happy-go-lucky, talkative, joking chap.
“The happy family has assembled at last,” he proclaimed. “We’re all here, Mrs. Starbright, and now we’ll proceed to eat you out of house and home. Oh, we’ll have a good time reducing you to poverty! My! my! but I’m glad I came. Badger, you should have seen the old-fashioned plum pudding we had for supper last night. It was a peach! But I only got about half of it before Browning annihilated the other half.”
“Huah!” grunted Bruce. “Don’t try so hard to be funny.”
“Oh,” said Dashleigh, “some of Ready’s jokes last night were really and truly funny. They would have made a donkey laugh. Why, I actually laughed till I cried.”
Then Bert grew furiously red when everybody shouted, nor did his confusion abate when afterward Ready seriously addressed him as “The Donkey.”
Mrs. Starbright took charge of the girls. Mr. Burrage was very weary and retired to his room for a brief rest. After washing his face and hands and brushing his clothes, Buck was ready to be shown about the place, and Dick took charge of him.
That afternoon Dick challenged Frank to a game of billiards, and the party assembled in the billiard-room to witness the match.
“Oh, Richard, my boy, you are up against the real thing now,” chirped Ready. “Going to play a hundred points, eight-inch balk? He’ll beat you fifty points, or I’ll eat my hat! But you should see me play! I’m the bird at that game. Why, I’ve often run two points without stopping.”
“I’ll tell you what,” laughed Starbright, his eyes flashing, “let’s play for something to make it interesting. Will you do it?”
“Well, say a thousand dollars,” suggested Ready carelessly. “I’ll offer that sum as a purse. It’s a mere nothing to me.”
“I do not mean that we are to bet on the game,” explained Dick. “But if there were a prize of some sort——”
He paused and looked at Inza.
“Can’t you suggest something?” he asked.
She smiled back at him, and then, roguishly, she said:
“Oh, I might suggest something—if it would be worth struggling for.”
“Name it!” cried Frank and Dick in a breath.
“To-morrow we are to have a sleighing-party.”
“Yes.”
“Well, I will go in the sleigh of the one who wins this match. What do you say to that?”
There was a brief pause, then both fellows cried:
“Done!”
“Oh, say!” cried Ready; “let me into this! With such a prize in view, I can wipe you both off the map! Give me a cue.”
“Your cue is to keep quiet,” rumbled Browning, who was seated in a big, easy chair, placidly looking on.
The balk-lines were freshly drawn, Frank was given his choice of cues, and then the contestants prepared to “string” for the start.
“Frank,” murmured Dick, “I’m going to beat you if it is in me. You will have to play your best. I give you fair warning.”
“All right,” Merry nodded. “It is a battle to the finish.”
They sent the ivories rolling down the table to rebound from the lower cushion and come gently back, side by side. All waited anxiously for the balls to stop. They rolled up to the head cushion, against which they lodged and “froze.”
“Tie,” declared Bruce. “You’ll have to try it over.”
They did so, and on the second trial Dick obtained a slight advantage, which gave him the lead. Frank was wondering just how skilful his antagonist would prove to be, and he watched closely the manner in which Starbright made his first shots.
Dick studied the positions of the balls a moment, and then made a skilful draw that brought them together in a group. Immediately, Merry understood that he had no easy task before him. He saw on Dick’s face a look of resolution and determination, and he knew the big freshman would play as if for his very life.
“He means to win the privilege of having Inza in his sleigh—if he can,” thought Frank. “That’s plain enough. A careless stroke or the least let up on my part may mean defeat.”
He knew now that he must be on his mettle to the very finish. Glancing toward Inza, he saw her dark eyes fastened on Dick, and she was watching the play with breathless interest that seemed anxiety.
“Is it possible she wishes him to win?” Frank asked himself. “It almost seems so. If I thought it, he should win, even were I able to defeat him.”
But his heart rebelled against the thought, and again he resolved to play the match at his best.
Having the balls together, Starbright proceeded to nurse them in a skilful manner, running thirteen points, and then missing an easy massé.
“Oh!” exclaimed Inza, with a catch of her breath. “You stopped at thirteen! That’s an unlucky number.”
Then, in a moment, she laughed merrily, warning Frank to take care to make as many as thirteen.
Merry started in. Fortunately, the ivories lay well for him, and he ran off point after point with care and still with swiftness till he had made thirty-one. Then he missed on an effort to gather them in a corner.
“That is thirteen turned round,” he laughed; “but it may be just as unlucky.”
“I’d rather take my chances on it,” declared Dick.
Starbright seemed to have the balls in a good position, and again he began playing with care—too much care, perhaps, for he missed with his third shot.
“Oh!” again came from Inza’s lips. “I don’t believe you’re even going to make it interesting.”
“I’m afraid not,” admitted Dick, with a tone of the utmost regret. “But you may be sure I shall do my best.”
Frank ran seventeen more points before missing, making him forty-eight in all, while Dick had only fifteen.
There was a look of grim determination on Dick’s face as he began again.
“Get into the game and make a touch-down,” urged Ready. “What are we paying our money for! With such a prize in view, I could run a hundred—feet. Oh, you should see me dally with the ivories! It is a sight to make the gods weep.”
Dick took pains. He studied his shots, and got the balls across the line at one corner and worked them there with great skill, beginning to pile up point after point. His playing brought applause, Merry giving it as readily and honestly as the others.
Ten—twenty points he ran without a break. It was a grand exhibition of skill. Inza was watching with intense earnestness, and again Merry fancied she might be anxious for Dick to win. Then, at a critical point, came a miscue, and Dick’s run came to an end with him just three points behind Frank.
“You gave me a shock, then,” confessed Merry, as he made ready to play. “You had ’em going, and I didn’t know that you were ever going to stop.”
“It was my opportunity,” declared Starbright regretfully. “If I had not made that miscue!”
“That’s the way in this world,” philosophized Ready. “Just as we have the balls rolling our way and everything looks bright and radiant, we slip a cog and fall down with a slam. It’s sad and disgusting, but true—alas!”
“Will somebody be good enough to smother him,” mumbled Browning. “Makes me think of Dismal Jones.”
“Ha! ha!” laughed Jack, with his old flippant air. “Refuse me! Let’s be merry. Why does a chicken cross the road? Don’t hit me! My fingers are crossed.”
Frank had seen enough to know now that Starbright was a brilliant billiard-player, and more than ever he was determined to do his level best. Nevertheless, Merry was somewhat rusty, and thus it happened that he missed his fifth shot.
“Now’s your chance, Dick!” exclaimed Dashleigh, who was acting as marker. “You can get the lead right here.”
The shot was a very hard one.
“You can’t make that, Starbright,” asserted Browning. “I don’t believe it can be made.”
“Oh, there is a way to make any shot on the table,” Frank asserted.
But Dick was not so sure of succeeding in this case. He took great pains, and succeeded. It was a handsome shot, and Merriwell gave a cry of admiration and approval.
“That reminds me of my playing,” murmured Ready. “It is so different, you know.”
Inza gave Dick a smile of admiring approval, which did not escape Frank’s keen eyes. But the balls remained separated, and Starbright’s success and the applause that had greeted the feat seemed to rattle the big freshman, so that he missed the very next shot.
“I must get them together and hold them,” thought Frank. “No fancy playing in this. The fellow might run forty or fifty any minute, and that would be my Waterloo.”
However, his effort to bring the balls together caused him to miss the very first attempt, and left the ivories for Starbright, everything being favorable.
Thinking of the prize for which they were contending had made Dick nervous, despite the fact that he had always fancied his nerves were like iron. The glances he had received from Inza had added to his nervousness, so that he discovered his hand was shaking a trifle.
Immediately he braced up, not wishing any one to discover that he was in that condition. He was deliberate in his movements, though inwardly eager and in haste.
The first shot attempted was made by a rank scratch, although he made no sign that he had not tried for it in that manner. Instead of rattling him more, the shock of getting the point after he thought he had missed it served to steady his nerves. He looked toward Inza as he came round the table. Their eyes met, and he fancied she was urging him to do his best.
“I will!” he resolved. “I am going to win! I’ll beat Frank Merriwell at something!”
Dick’s brother was looking on with breathless interest, being more excited than the big college man, if possible. He longed for Dick to come off victor, yet fancied such a thing could not happen, with Frank Merriwell for an opponent.
That look from Inza aided in giving Starbright courage. He swung into the work with remarkable skill, making another beautiful run, reeling off point after point.
Phil Starbright could scarcely keep still. He wanted to dance and shout when Dick passed Frank and took the lead. Browning looked on in amazed silence, while Ready gasped:
“What’s this? what’s this? I fear me much the result is to be a surprise. Be still, my fluttering heart, be still!”
“I believe Mr. Starbright is going to beat Frank!” whispered Winnie to Buck.
“None whatever!” returned the Westerner. “Don’t get that idea into your head, girl. I’ve seen Frank Merriwell before, and he’s never beaten till the game is ended. He has nerves, while the big fellow is unsteady and liable to go into the air any minute. You hear me!”
Starbright ran eighteen points, which gave him a lead of twelve.
“Now, Merry, old man,” urged Buck, “get into gear and do your pretty work. We know you’re a bit out of practise, but just show us how you can play at any old game when you have to play.”
Not a word did Frank say, though he smiled faintly at Badger. He began by making three difficult shots, the third one bunching the balls. Then he played in splendid form till he had added nineteen to the three, making a run of twenty-two, which turned the tables on Starbright, leaving Merry ten in the lead.
Dick missed his first effort, and Frank was given the balls again. He sought to get them together for a run, and the attempt caused him to fail to count with his second shot.
“You want only eleven to tie, Dick!” palpitated Phil. “You can get ’em. I’ve known you to run thirty.”
Once more Starbright tried to steady his nerves and play with the coolness that was a feature of Merriwell’s work. Somehow that coolness made the big fellow feel sure that under ordinary circumstances Frank would completely outrank him at billiards. But the prize lured Starbright to do his best. That Christmas sleigh-ride with Inza was something worth working for.
Click, click, click—the big freshman tapped off the points, Dashleigh counting the buttons as he slid them along the wire. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven—ha! at last the ivories rolled hard and lay in an extremely difficult position.
Pausing to study the shot, Dick heard Badger whisper to Winnie that he must surely miss.
“I won’t miss!” he mentally cried.
Then, with his utmost skill and nerve, he played a cushion-carom shot and counted.
“Good!” exclaimed Frank, promptly leading the applause.
Dick wiped the perspiration from his face. Not even the strain and thrill and excitement of a football-game could set his nerves on edge like this.
Inza’s laugh caused him to thrill with pleasure.
“She’s glad I made it!” he told himself. “Now I know I’m going to win!”
Having succeeded at that critical point, Dick soon brought the balls together, astonishing himself by his skill in this respect. Never before had he made so many hard shots with absolute confidence, and the witnesses of his work were breathless with suspense.
“He is going to win!” breathed Winnie, clutching Buck’s arm.
“Don’t you believe it!” returned the Westerner stiffly. “Frank won’t let him win.”
Ten points, fifteen, twenty, twenty-five—no, he failed on the twenty-fifth.
“Eighty-eight points to Merry’s seventy-five,” announced Dashleigh. “You’re just thirteen ahead, Dick.”
“Thirteen?” exclaimed the freshman, with a start of annoyance.
“The fatal number again!” exclaimed Inza, but she laughed.
“Here’s where you have to do it, if you’re going to do it at all, Merry,” said Browning. “Twelve more points lets Starbright out, and you’ll ride with me to-morrow, instead of with Inza.”
Frank needed twenty-five, and he started in to make them, but the balls persisted in running hard, despite his greatest care. Time after time he came near missing, but not till he had scored ninety-four buttons in all did he fail to count.
“Hard luck!” growled Browning.
“Now, Dick!” cried Phil; “this is your chance, and you must do the trick.”
Starbright did not dare to glance toward Inza again; but, fancying she was watching him and wishing for his success, he began the task of trying to run out.
The first shot was a close shave, the cue-ball barely brushing one of the object balls. Indeed, Browning fancied Dick had missed, but Frank promptly declared he had plainly seen the shot, and it was a fair count. Dick thanked him and proceeded with the play. However, he was extremely anxious and excited, and his anxiety increased as he passed ninety, crept up to ninety-five and then found himself drawing close onto the end of the string.
The silence was intense. Indeed, it was so great that it began to oppress Dick, and he longed for the spectators to talk, laugh, or do something. He was tingling from his head to his heels.
Ninety-six, ninety-seven, ninety-eight—only two points to make.
“I told you!” whispered Winnie to Buck, in disappointment. “He has beaten Frank!”
“Not yet!” returned the unshaken Kansan. “If he beats Merry, he’ll be the first galoot to do the trick in a long time. He won’t!”
Ninety-nine!
One point more to be made!
“Nobody can beat Frank Merriwell!” huskily whispered Buck to his wife. “He’ll miss this shot, and Merry will win.”
The silence was so great that Starbright heard Badger’s words just as he was on the point of trying to score the final button. He was struck with the conviction that he must miss—that it would be a marvel for him to defeat Frank Merriwell.
He missed!
“Well,” said Merriwell quietly, as deep breaths were heard on every side, “you made a handsome try for it, and that was a case of hard luck. I’ve got to make six, and I may slip up on doing that.”
Starbright’s failure at the critical point left him shaking all over. His last faint hope was that Merry might fail, but Frank played with care, precision, and coolness, and slowly but surely scored the six points he needed, winning the match.
“Miss Burrage,” cried Frank, “remember your promise.”
Her merry laugh rang out.
“I’ll not forget it,” she said; “but there was a time when I thought I’d surely ride with Dick.”
That laugh cut Starbright, for it seemed full of satisfaction and relief.
“I guess it’s all right!” he thought. “She wanted to ride with him all the time, and she thought he’d beat me more than he did. She is glad I lost!”