THE HIGH JUMP.
The events of the forenoon left Eagle Heights five points in the lead
of any other club, and there was rejoicing at the clubhouse during the
interval of intermission at midday.
The first contest of the afternoon was jumping.
Merriwell came out in a suit with a large, white M on his breast. The
letter stood for his club, but Frost and Manton, who were with the
judges, commented on it and declared it marked Frank’s egotism.
There were nine contestants entered for jumping honors. Each club was
permitted to enter two men, if it wished; but only two clubs had taken
advantage of this.
One was the Merries. Dade Morgan had entered.
This proved something of a surprise to Frost and Manton, who had not
known about it.
They seemed to regard it as a joke, however, for they laughed and said
that Merriwell might enter his whole club without having a show.
The running broad jump was started by Tom Willis, of Jersey City, who
cleared nineteen feet and one inch.
The next man fell an inch short of nineteen.
Then came a long-limbed chap who sailed through the air and planted his
heels five inches ahead of Willis’ mark.
He was wildly cheered by a little group of friends.
Morgan and Merriwell were standing close together and watching.
“That’s pretty fair, Dade,” said Frank. “Do you think you can beat it?”
“I believe I can,” nodded Morgan.
The fourth jumper could not reach the mark made by the long-limbed chap.
Then it was Merriwell’s turn.
A cheer went up as Frank stripped off his sweater and made ready. Every
one seemed to expect something great of him.
Hodge and Starbright were watching from the stand.
“Merry will show them a trick now,” said Bart. “I can jump some myself;
but I’m not in it with him. I don’t see why Morgan went into this.”
“Frank wanted him to.”
“Oh, he did?”
“Yes. You know Morgan was a wonderful jumper at college. Merry was the
only man who ever defeated him, and that was by not more than an inch
or so. I think he’s in perfect form. Our trip has done him good. He was
run down when Frank took hold of him in New York last fall; but he has
built up wonderfully. He says Merry saved his life.”
There was a hush now, as Merry walked out to the starting point.
“’Rah for Merriwell!” cried an enthusiast.
“That’s Grafter!” laughed Manton, turning to look at the stand. “He
expects to win a thousand off me to-day. I knew better than to bet on
the jumping, and I have him caught on the pole vaulting, for he loses
no matter what happens, if Merriwell does not win. Merriwell may have
a broken neck before the day is over.”
“I hope he gets it,” said Frost, in his cold-blooded manner.
“You can’t hope so any more than I do.”
“He’s going to make his first trial. Watch.”
Frank toed the starting line. He crouched and seemed to gather himself.
Then he sped along the run, every muscle tense, a look of resolution
on his handsome face. He came up to the mark in perfect stride and
launched himself into the air.
The manner in which he sailed over the ground caused more than one
witness to gasp with surprise and admiration. His feet were drawn well
under him, and at precisely the proper moment he launched them forward.
He struck perfectly and came up without a “bobble.”
The crowd shouted.
They knew he had made the best jump thus far.
Dent Frost whistled in dismay.
“Manton, he’s a wonder!” he muttered. “I think he wins!”
“Don’t you believe it. Necker is the man.”
“If Necker beats that, he’ll beat his own record by several inches.”
The measurers were running the tape under the eyes of the judges.
In a moment this was done, and a judge announced in a loud voice:
“Frank Merriwell’s distance, twenty feet, eleven inches and a half!”
There were some Yale men in the stand, and the Yale cheer went up
instantly.
“Merriwell wins!” was the cry that was repeated over and over. “That
can’t be beaten to-day.”
The next contestant seemed disheartened by the stunt, for he fell far
short of nineteen feet.
It happened that Necker was the eighth man on the list, while Morgan
was ninth.
When Necker’s turn came Merriwell held the record by eight inches.
Necker had plenty of friends to cheer him. He looked pantherish in his
jumping rig. He was thin, but his muscles were like bands of steel
covered by pink velvet.
Necker caught Manton’s eye as he walked out to the starting point. He
nodded and smiled the least bit.
“He’s confident,” said Manton; “and he knows what he can do. I believe
he’ll beat Merriwell.”
“Never!” retorted Frost. “It won’t be done in this event.”
Necker balanced himself, made a start, went flying to the mark, and
leaped.
“He’s ’way behind!” growled Frost.
“He has three tries, if he wishes to take them.”
“I know he has. Merriwell didn’t try but once.”
“He didn’t have to.”
Necker’s first jump was not measured, for he had not made more than
eighteen feet.
He took his time about returning and starting again.
The Eagle Heights men seemed to think he had little chance to defeat
Merriwell, although they knew he could do much better than he had at
first.
The second time he tried it was seen that he meant to do his level
best. He flew over the ground in strides which gathered impetus
steadily, and he came to the mark in a perfect manner.
Through the air he shot, his feet gathered beneath him. When it seemed
that he must drop to the ground he kept on, flinging his feet far out,
landing on his heels and coming up with an outswinging of his arms.
Hobart Manton gave a yell.
“He’s done it!” he cried. “I believe he’s beaten Merriwell!”
“Keep still!” warned Frost; “they may put us off the field if you make
too much of a fuss.”
“How does it look to you?”
“He’s tied Merriwell, at least, and he has still another trial. If he
can tie him, he can beat him.”
The stand was buzzing with excitement. Two persons in the stand were
very anxious. They were Hodge and Starbright.
“What do you think, Dick?” asked Bart.
“If I’m not mistaken, he’s beaten Merry a bit.”
“It can’t be possible!”
“I’m afraid it is.”
The measurers ran the tape. They took care. Then they consulted with
the judges.
One of the judges turned toward the stand.
“Mr. Necker will not jump again,” he said. “His record is twenty-one
feet and one inch.”
The Eagle Heights men howled with satisfaction.
Their man had defeated Merriwell by an inch and a half.
Bart Hodge looked ill.
“Why didn’t Merry try more than once?” he muttered huskily. “He could
have done better! Now he’s lost his chance!”
“Wait,” said Starbright. “Let’s see what Morgan will do.”
“Oh, Morgan isn’t in that class! It’s a shame!”
Still Dick clung to hope, thinking it possible Morgan might do
something that would surprise every one.
Necker was satisfied. He knew he had done his handsomest and that he
would fall back if he made another attempt. He had added some inches to
his own best record, besides defeating Merriwell.
Dade Morgan, slender, graceful, and electric, walked toward the
starting point.
“Who is he?” was the question asked by many in the stand.
“Oh, he’s one of Merriwell’s team,” was the answer. “He won’t cut much
ice.”
In all his body Morgan felt the current of life running strong. He
believed himself physically at the top notch. He was full of confidence.
In his college days he had never covered twenty-one feet, but something
told him he was a better man than he had been in those days. He was
matured; his powers were at their flood.
Crouching, he set his teeth and gripped his hands. He started slowly
and surely, gathering speed and power. When he reached the take-off
mark he was flying. Into the air he went, shooting forward like a bird
on the wing. On and on he sailed. It was all over in a moment, but the
spectators rose.
They knew Morgan had landed almost in the tracks of Necker.
Denton Frost actually staggered.
“What do you think of that?” he gasped. “I fear he has tied Necker!”
“I fear he has beaten him!” grated Manton.
“Impossible! Who is this Morgan? Whoever heard of him?”
“Oh, he was a rattler at college until he began to dissipate. Then they
said he broke down and lost ambition. I’ve been told he was the most
dangerous rival Merriwell ever had at Yale.”
“If he has beaten Necker——”
“It will be a bitter pill to swallow.”
“They are going to measure. He isn’t going to jump again! By the great
Harry! he’s beaten Necker, or he would try again. He’s the last man
and——”
He checked himself and waited.
The tape was stretched. Again the measurers took the utmost care,
watched by the judges.
The crowd waited.
Then one of the judges turned and held up his hand.
“Dade Morgan’s record is——”
He paused. The hush of great expectancy seemed to keep every one from
breathing. He finished:
“Twenty-one feet and three inches! Morgan wins the broad jump.”
Two more disgusted men than Frost and Manton it would have been hard to
find.
They had not dreamed the broad jump would be won in such a manner.
Of course, Necker was also disgusted, but he tried to conceal it and
appear a good loser.
The high jump followed.
Ten men were entered for this, both Morgan and Merriwell being of the
number.
Necker resolved to retrieve himself.
Manton found an opportunity to speak to him and urge him to try, as if
his life depended on it.
“You were too confident,” said Manton.
“That’s right,” admitted Necker. “I thought I had it easy. I might have
tried again.”
Frank congratulated Morgan.
“You came in like a dark horse, Dade,” he smiled.
“I was rooting for you inside when you came up to the mark. Necker’s
chest has collapsed a great deal. He’s a great jumper, but it doesn’t
do for such fellows to get too chesty. It ruins them every time.”
Morgan was delighted with himself.
“I owe it all to you, Merry,” he said. “Remember when you found me in
that bum hotel on the Bowery?”
“Yes.”
“I was pretty near all in then. Never expected to be much of an athlete
after that. You took hold of me and straightened me out. I won’t forget
it.”
“Do. It’s what any friend would do for another.”
“Oh, some day I’ll get even with you!” threatened Dade, with a smile.
In a short time everything was ready for the high jump.
The first man made five feet and ten inches on three trials.
The second man could not clear the bar at five feet eight.
Morgan was third on the list this time. He was cheered as he squared
away for the start.
He had the bar placed at five feet ten. Over it he went, drawing his
feet well under him and flinging them round sideways.
“This man wins the high jump, too!” hissed Frost.
“That is better than it would be to have Merriwell win,” said Manton.
“Not much better.”
“But some.”
Dade had the bar moved up to six feet.
Then he went at it, but barely touched it with his heel as he went
over, which displaced it.
“Ha!” cried Manton. “That’s too high for him!”
Morgan walked back to the starting point. He signaled for the bar to be
placed the same as before.
When it was up he seemed to hesitate. He paused a few seconds, then
settled himself and started.
Up, up he went. As he reached the highest points he gave a twisting
movement of his body and flung his feet sideways over the bar, coming
down without grazing it.
“Six feet for Morgan,” announced a judge.
“’Rah for Morgan!” whooped an enthusiast. “He’s the real hot stuff!”
“I believe Necker can beat that,” said Manton. “It’s great jumping; but
Necker is keyed up now, and he’ll stretch himself for all he is worth.”
Necker was seventh on the list.
When his turn came no one had reached Morgan’s mark. Could he do it?
He had the bar set at five feet ten for the first trial. Over it he
went.
“Why, that was easy!” exclaimed Manton. “He can go higher than that,
all right!”
“I believe he can,” nodded Frost hopefully. “Morgan is a better jumper
than Merriwell. There is no danger from Merriwell if Necker can defeat
Morgan.”
The bar was next placed at six feet.
“Go it, Necker!” cried some one in the stand. “You can do it, old man!”
He did do it, although the least fraction of an inch was to spare as he
passed over the bar.
Morgan was tied.
“Put it up an inch and a half,” said Necker quietly.
Hodge heard him in the stand.
“He can’t make another inch,” he said. “He barely cleared the bar at
six feet. He’ll dislodge it this time.”
“It’s more than even chances that he will,” nodded Starbright.
But Necker made that jump as if his life depended on it. He rose
handsomely and cleared the bar without brushing it.
Then the Eagle Heights crowd cheered, for their man led in the high
jump by an inch and a half.
Necker turned away smiling, giving Manton a look. Manton motioned for
him to come nearer.
“You might have won the broad jump just as easy,” said Manton.
“I know that,” agreed Necker. “It was my fault. I thought I had it won.”
The men who followed made a sorry showing beside Necker.
Then came Merriwell.
Manton grinned sneeringly, and Dent Frost laughed coldly.
“This day the great champion is not doing so much,” said the gentleman
pugilist. “Grafter won’t be offering so much money for his secret
method. Secret method! Bah!”
“Has he a method?”
“Oh, that’s rot. He’s a mark. He’s just a little better than ordinary
athletes, and he poses as the greatest wonder in the whole world.”
At the very start Frank had the bar placed at six feet.
“Never!” exclaimed Frost. “He can’t do it!”
“Let him knock it down,” whispered Manton.
Frank did knock it down. He did not get away just right, and his heel
touched the bar as he was going over.
Manton laughed outright, but checked himself.
Frank spoke in a low tone to the judges.
Then many persons uttered exclamations of astonishment, for he had
ordered the bar raised an inch and a half!
That placed it at the height of Necker’s best jump.
“Never!” repeated Frost.
In the stand several persons uttered cries of joshing.
But they were destined to receive a shock, for Merry shot at the bar,
leaped into the air, and went over it in beautiful style.
Then the Yale men broke forth into that fine cheer.
Necker seemed dazed.
“He must have springs in his shoes,” he finally growled.
Frost was speechless with rage. Manton managed to recover enough to say:
“That only ties you.”
But Merriwell had ordered the crossbar up an inch and a half more,
making six feet three in all.
“Not in a thousand years!” cried a voice in the crowd. “It’s
impossible!”
“He’ll show you!” exclaimed Bart Hodge.
Frank settled himself, measured with his eye the distance he had to run
and the height to the pole, and then started.
Up and over he sailed.
He had beaten Necker by an inch and a half, and the following
contestants declined to make an effort.