THE others lost their grip early, and their joy along with it. Now and then one of them got a ten-strike, but the occurrence was so rare that it made no show alongside of my giant score.

The boys surrendered at the end of the half-hour, and put on their coats and gathered around me and in courteous, but sufficiently definite, language expressed their opinion of a seasoned expert who would stoop to lying and deception in order to rob kind and well-meaning friends.

The proprietor of the place stood by for a while saying nothing, then he came to my defence. He said: “It looks like a mystery, gentlemen, but it isn’t a mystery after it’s explained. That is a grooved alley; you’ve only to start a ball down it any way you please and the groove will do the rest; it will slam the ball against the northeast curve of the head pin every time, and nothing can save the ten from going down.”