CHAPTER XXVIII.
THE GAME GROWS HOTTER.
By the noise the Yale crowd made one might have fancied the game was theirs beyond a doubt.
"Poor fellows!" said one languid Harvardite to an equally languid companion.

"It's the only chawnce they have had to cheer.

Do let them make a little noise." "Yas," said his companion, "do.

It isn't at all likely they will get another opportunity during this game." There were cheers for Merriwell, but Frank walked to the bench and put on his sweater as if utterly unconscious of the excitement he had created.

His unconcerned manner won fresh admiration for him.
Old Put congratulated Frank as soon as the bench was reached.
"That was great work, Merriwell.