Frank Merriwell’s Champions

ots gurgled. "I's done shot clean throu

sticking in the colored boy's cap, which was lying

ots' side and lift

w and stood staring at his work, h

y a shake to bring him to his senses. "The arrow cut through your cap and scratched the

chair, and made a sic

h Browning to fink about an arrum stickin' frough mah haid. I bet yo' fo'

on, who was ready for a laugh, now that he knew Toots was unhurt. "He's like the cr

ans," Merriwell cautioned. "We don't want t

effort, but the mishap seemed to have taken the energy o

in his turn with a queer g

clean through that old tree!" he muttered, as he fitted a

a distance you must allow for the trajectory, or

ready given Gallup careful instructions and had

the arrow with care. It was seen to strike near th

e red-

d Diamond. "That's t

this day, an' don't yeou fergit it," said

onfident air. He was a good shot with

as Hammond's arrow struck, and then

and let slip the arr

before Hammond's friends had ceased their cheering

somebody if he did, and when Dunnerwust came again to the scratch ther

the arrow slipped, while he was trying to fit it

. "Uf dot comes down your

ho stepped nimbly to o

tch agin' me, say so, but don't go shootin' arrers a

slipped der arrow py ven I dry to fix him. Shust efe

plush handle in the middle of the bow, fitted the arrow and drew it down with exceeding care. When he

-one!" shoute

k an arrow in the target, and he was so pleased

great elation. "We peen goin' to vin

"There is no doubt, Dutchy, that you're a shooter from Sh

id me so many as sixdeen dimes alret

ated; after which Merriwell put his arrow in the gold three times in succession, w

allup shot well, as did also Colson and Tetlow. Six times the yellow-haired, big-jointed boy from Vermont put his ar

at the camp, muffled up in a blank

old barn with a bow an' arrer fer nuthin'!" Gallu

the Blue Mountain boys, shot excellently, as d

-ran very evenly, and as the shoot drew toward its close, the count of the club scores showed five in favor of

yez, Merry, me b'y!" B

sponded Merriwell, compressing his lips as he

e red!" crie

ard Hammon

in the

twenty-one of the twenty-four rou

youth who kept the score card, reading from the card, while the excited and anx

swung their caps and se

the target and l

d!" came the voi

. "That gives you one hundred and

ker called "nine," Ward Hammond became noticeably rat

e bowstring, and when the marker called, "only five

re marker. "Frank Merriwell no

er pitch as Merriwell aga

e impossible for Hammond to beat him, for he already led Hammond by one and Hammond could do no mor

h his right, resting the shaft across the bow on the left side just above and touching his left hand. Then, with the first th

ere was another person in the world. His body was gracefully erect, his left side slightly turned toward the target, his left arm rigidly e

by the twang of the bowstring, by the arrow's whizzing flight

he marker, with a thrill in

t like cracking the blue dome of the sky and hi

r break the bow!" Hamm

rve the arrow as it struck, a proceeding that was perfec

r's face darken while the pupils of the boy's ey

. "I must warn Frank to look out or he'll be wayl

ot slipped back on the grass and the arrow was sharply deviated from the line it should ha

amed Diamond, ju

he grounds and was directly in front of a tree that sto

rrow, heard Diamond's cry, and d

the form of a girl of seventeen or ei

ight. She, too, heard the warning, but she did

uttering a cry, she staggered