Tip TOPWEEKLY.| Issued Weekly—By Subscription $2.50 per year. Entered as Second Class Matter at the N. Y. Post Ojice by STREET & SMITH, March 6, 1897 Vol. 1. No. 47. Price Five Cents. = FRANK RECEIVED A HEAVY BLOW THAT CAST HIM PROSTRATE BEFORE THE FRIGHTENED RUNAWAY. am not.’ ‘‘hh? How’s that?’ ‘*T have been saved.”’ ‘*How? Who by?’’ ‘‘While I was talking with the pro-| fessor the door bell rang. I heard it, | and { presume the visitors were shown | into the parlor, off which is old Such’s = . ee caused Ditson to vaguely anticipate what study. We were in the study. I did not| observe that the door was not ‘securely | closed, but it could not have been. The| visitors in the parlor heard me pleading | with the professor. They heard me ex- press my utter despair and say there was no show to obtain justice. ‘They heard the professor state that he was positive I had assaulted him. Then one of the callers appeared at the door and calmly informed the old man that I was not the guilty one.’? ‘‘Whew!’’ whistled Ditson. , ‘‘Well, may I be hanged! That was decidedly interesting and dramatic!”’ “Tt stage gered me, but I was still more staggered when this person confessed that he himself had upset the professor, and that the cap, which was a ‘scalp’ he had captured from me long before, had been, snatched from his head.’’ | Se ‘Staggered! Jeewhittaker! have fainted on the spot !?’ ‘“Thave told. you exactly what hap- pened, and it was the. appearance and confession of this person that saved me from expulsion. ‘hey will not expel me now. I remained long enough to make sute of that. The professor will see to that matter. I donot know what they will do to the other fellow.”’ ‘“The other fellow—who was it??? “Frank Merriwell!’” I should * _ EHAPTER.E.: > HARTWICK’ 'S. HATRED...’ Semchowt what Hartwick had said had MERRIWELL’S QUEEN. 3 It seems that you are likely to| well who appeared at the door! It was was coming, but still he recoiled when Evan spoke Metriwell’s name. ‘‘Merriwell?’’ he gasped. ‘‘Impossible! _You’re kidding !”’ ‘‘T am speaking the sober truth,’’ de- |clared Hartwick. ‘‘It was Merriwell who |had overheard our talk! It was Merri- Merriwell who declared me innocent be- cause he himself was the guilty one!” ’ Ditson, staggered to the couch, upon which he weakly dropped. ‘‘What was the matter with the fel- low?” he faintly asked. Was he daft? He must have been crazy ! ‘‘He was not. He said that he had | heard our talk, and that he came there | to-night to tell the truth and save one who was innocent. Rattleton. was with him. Rattleton seemed scared, but Mer- riwell was cool and earnest. His manner and his words convinced old Such, who was forced to confess.that he had not been certain it was I from whose head he snatched the cap. Merriwell was backed up in all he said by Rattleton.’’. Roland took out his handkerchief mcpped his face. ‘‘T don’t understand how you happen to be living still,’’ he observed. ‘‘I should have dropped deat’ had I been in your place.’”’ ‘*It nearly overcame mé,’’ said Hart- wick. {‘I could not believe it possible. . The professor was touched. He asked Merriwell why he had come there and acknowledged his guiit. Merriwell said he had done so because he would not remain silent and see an innocent person suffer for something he—Merriwell—had done. Such complimented him on his honesty, and I’ saw that Merriwell will be let off easily. Then the professor told me he would see that I was cleared of all blame, and told me I might go. I went, and 5 Merriwell and Rattleton there.’ ‘Well; I fail to see when Merriwell in- sulted-you. Why, the blooming chump! Ha! ha! ha! What a fool the fellow must be! By Jove! I can’t understand — it! Here you have been trying to dis- grace him, and yet he comes up like this and saves you from being expelled! Oh, | what a fool he ist If you were expelled you would give him no more trouble.” and » Bo sash that his c conscience aor not 4 FRANK MERRIWELL’S QUIEN. permit him to see another person espeNea ‘*He gave me such a Vook!’’ Evan for what he did himself.’ went on as if Ditson had not spoken, ‘‘His conscience! Ha!ha! ha! That} ‘‘It was as if I had-been the most con- is great! ‘Think of a fellow’s conscience |temptible thing on the face of the earth! compelling him to do such a thing for an| You don’t know how it cut me! He said eneiny who has been working to injure|he might have remained silent and thus him! Oh, but Merriwell is soft! Oh,|squared the score between us, but al-_ but he is a fool!’ ‘though he had not done so, he felt that ‘c: “Wait,’’ came grimly from»Hartwick’s| he was even with me, after all. And by lips. ‘‘You have not heard all.. Ijthe eternal skies! I felt it at that mo-’ thought it must be that Merriwell would|ment! I felt mean and miserable and be ready to shake hands and let bygones/contemptuous. I know my face betrayed be bygones. ”’ Ishame! ‘Think of it! Oh, great heavens! ‘“That was natural.’?’ |It nearly drives me out of my senses!”? _, Well, I mater for him sl gptie a Hartwick was indeed frantic with the And that shows where you played the | thought of the shame of that moment. Se fool.”? He tore about the room, smiting his | ‘J confess it. I fairly compelled my-)hands together and almost foaming at the he self to wait. I will not say that I had | mouth. ae the heart to thank Merriwell and. offer! pjtson sat on the sofa and hugged him- him my hand, for I should lie. I felt) self with satisfaction. He had no regard ae vee | that I was defeated all round, and he had | for Hartwick’s feelings. But he knew ne / * kept me from going out into the world that from that night “Evan would. hate ? _ and hustling, as I knew’the governor ‘Frank Merriwell more intensely than ever Ae would not support me if I were expelled. | pefore, and that gave Ditson intense de- og ae I said to myself, ‘old fellow, try to make Jight. Z an impression with Merriwell. Make | him think you are grateful. It is policy. | He will be glad to shake hands.’ So waited for him.’’ 66Wel}] ?” x ‘‘He came out. Rattleton was still with him. I met'them under a lainp and thanked him. ‘Then I offered my hand.”’ =o Hartwick grated his teeth and a look of fury came to his face, as if the re- : ~membrance of what followed was too| ‘‘My old trouble,’’? came faintly from much for him to endure. Had Merriwell| Hartwick’s lips. ae has not bothered seen the fellow at that moment he would lime for some tiie.’ have known how heavily he had struck | **Is it your heart ?’’ Hartwick... | ‘Ves. - The.doctor said it was weak- ‘And he refused to shake?” cried Dit- ened by too much cigarette smoking. He son, unable to repress his delight. ‘‘Ha!/gave me some medicine. I used to have ha! ha! Oh, what acorker! That was/faint spells after severe exertion, and a horse on you, Hartwick!’ . |there was a pain in my heart. I have not “Te scorned me!” hissed Evan. ‘*He Ismoked much lately, and the spells have ~ told me he refused both my thanks and gradually left me. _When I took the last my hand! He told me he had not revealed ‘medicine I thought I would not need any_ the truth to Professor Such out of the | more My excitement just now brought Pa least regard for me or my feelings, but|/om a mild attack, and I didn\t know but on simply to ease his own conscience, as he| ‘there was a little medicine left in the could not see his worst - enemy expelled, | bottle. ¥; et me lie down on that couch, ase for an act he himself, had committed. Roll, Help, mie Over there? i ees a _ ‘Well, you may count’yourself mighty| Ditson hastened to do so, wondéring : - lucky that Merriwéll has that sort of a that he had never known of Hartwick’s “conscience. ’ eae . "lafiliction | before. | He ERE Hartwick | - ‘ghd 7 * . c A toad ey ‘ ok ‘ Ne ; ‘ ; % = , Y ‘ “a ‘ It was some mossente before Hartwick calmed down at all. He rushed into the. isleeping room and came out with a vial ‘in his hand. He tried to turn something from the vial intoa glass. It was empty. Then he sat down, pressing his hands to |his side and looking pale and in pain. | “What's the matter?’ asked Roland ‘in sudden alarm. ; um FRANK MERRIWELE’S QUEEN. : 6 must have taken the greatest pains to! Peace ent his worst enemy from being ex- hide the truth concerning his trouble. |pelled from college. Nota few of them Evan was weak as a child, and he frankly asserted that they would not have yo breathed heavily after lying down. Dit-|done the same thing for a fellow like is son was greatly , alarmed aud asked if he| Hartwick had they been in Merriwell’s . should not go for a physician. place. ‘No! no!’’? said Evan. ‘‘I am better} Still, the very ones who said Frank was ee now. I'll be all right in a few moments. | foolish secretly admired him for his folly. Don’t worry about me. IJ] never die till | They saw that he was a fellow who had =. ie I have gotten back at Frank Merriwell for | 3 conscience that would not allow his the dirt he rubbed on me this night!”’ bitterest foe to suffer for an act that had Roland sat down and lighted a ciga-| been committed by himself, not by his ae ~ yette: | foe. ae ‘“‘I don’t believe it could have’ been | It is true there are not many lads who ; these that gave you the trouble,”’ he said. would have cleared an unscrupulous =f **T have heard fellows blow about them, | l enemy from such a charge by placing , but I take no stock in it. They’re harm-|themselves in the unenviable position less.’ | which that enemy occupied. It was not Wes ie a fellow did not smoke more than} ‘phy sical courage that led Frank to do ; 1: three orvfour a day I think they would | such a thing, but it was true moral cour- - oe not harm him,’’ said Hartwick ; ‘but who lage, a qualification which far excels mere ‘2 is able to tie himself down to ‘that nuim-| ‘phy oat courage. pe ber alter he gets so he cares for them? 2 : P mr} : . | A boy who is easily influenced to do ea 1ere’s not one person in ten thousanc things he knows is wrong may be a lad Ismoke them occasionally now, but peak oe k ‘who will not shrink from danger to life know it means sure death 1 rab €/ and limb. It is possible that he may be veoh, and aS alee me in pie \daring and brave in a certain way, and 7 7 : ee ee eee ’s got to die some .+i1] at the same time, he may be almost anys said Ditson, as if he was utterly ¥ utterly lacking in moral courage. reckless of ee ok ee | Such a lad might not hesitate to place ‘ ae artwic % ee ' oF A his own life in peril to save the life of an- new Ditson was a natural cowarc ‘other, and yet he might be induced to After a while ‘ivan ret handie, drink, swear, or do things even It has passed now,’’ he said. cc P : | worse, knowing all the while that he was should not have been attacked if I had| ‘doing wrong. Ee Beaa- othised doing such a < 7 oO JE } not become so wrought up over Merri- I things, and =e fears the ridicule af his ! a 3 ee J ps get some more of this ‘companions if he does‘ not imitate them. aaa Ss . ttocked ill jolly him if he refuses. to pes ee in a arge mirror. 'drink, and so he drinks. He does rfot hoe He rubbed dirt on me!’? he muttered, 'want to drink and he dislikes the taste > the words coming through his teeth with | lof liquor, yet he takes it, pretending he >) ahissing sound. ‘‘But i will get back at | does Hive badiat ont the etal ea him with interest! I. will find a way ! lage to refuse. Y ; He saved me to insult me and cover me! n the other hand, a weak little fakin with shame! Does he think the matter is | O Pasay iwho fears a.toad or a mouse may have even? Does. he fancy the score 18 | sificient moral courage to firm! > refuse ee. Ha! ha! ha! He shall find) that Evan Hartwick knows no mercy for) to do anything he knows is wrong. one he hates. I will strike Frank Met- The fellows with “physical Courage are Sdwell.a blow that will crush him! 1 admired, while the chances are that the Smeabeae sets) RETIN x ones with simple moral courage are held in contempt. Yet. the hero with moral 7 CHAPTER itl. . courage is the greater hero of the two. | RETROSPECTIVE, Sometimes it happens that a lad has © _ Not a few of Frank Merriwell’s friends | both physical and moral courage. Then and acquaintances declared he was a fool/he is a hero indeed! } ee ee to make the confession he sateta's erere to! Such a lad sag eee Soe teak, He Preevmy smoking, and he knew such habits could do him no- good, and, they were pretty | sure to do him harm. He could refuse to do anything that | was absolutely wrong, and yet no ‘fellow | ever loved honest sport more. There was nothing of the milksop about Merriwell. He was not the Sunday-school good boy | who would not fight. He believed that any !ad should have a stiff. backbone and| be prepared to fight for his rights. At the same time, there was nothing| of the bully in Frank. .He hated a bully, | and he was every ready to take up the cause of the weak against an oppressor. If he saw two dogs fighting his sympathy | was with the under dog. In this respect he was much unlike the ordinary human being, who is prone to admire and cheer the dog on top, no mat-| ter if he is the aggressor and entirely in | the wrong. There were many other ways in which Frank was not like the ordinary being, and Harry Rattleton, his room mate, who had tried to fathom Merri- well’s nature, had given over the task in despair, confessing he never could* tell ‘which way Merry would hop if you threw anything at him, but it was gen-| erally the other way.’ When Merriwell first entered Vale he! was ridiculed because he would not join | the other lads in their drinking and| smoking parties and drink and smoke like the» others. _ Not a few were willing to Wager that he would be punishing as ‘much stuffi—by which liquor, beer, or wine was meant—as any of them in| less than a year. é A year had passed, and still Frank neither drank nor smoked. He seemed ‘to enjoy being with the fellows when they were drinking and smoking. He could tell a good story, sing a song, and he would spend as much money as ally- wey - and he used it to coim-| itentions. Frank realized that her mood had Now, Frank was rather crafty in a cer- |tain way, for he had made a study of do to give any gifl the impression that e is the only one you have ever paid at- The moment she thinks you ‘bad he rea lly wasand what he was com- | have never had any other girl her estima- pelling her to do, she was horrified, and | she went away as soon.as she could.’ tion of your value drops. She instantly fancies that you have not been attractive “But not without telling me the truth jenough to interest any one.but her, and concerning Hartwick and clearing me) in your eyes, Winnie. a splendid girl, and she has the most} beautiful eyes—— What’s the matter, Winnie ?’’ *‘Oh; nothing at all! on!”? Winnie had suddenly drawn away and | was sitting up very straight and prim, with a severe look on her face. For one moment Frank was perplexed, -and then sudden move, and he/’chuckled to him- Self. ‘*She has the most fascinating eyes I ever saw,’’ he declared. ‘‘They actually have hypnotic power.’’ ee “They must have!’’ came sarcastically from Winnie. ‘‘They hypnotized you so that you did not see her when she put the drug into a glass of water you after- ward drank.”’ fais ee is quite true, but you must re- ‘member that I did not know you very | well at that time, Winnie. Go on—do go| ing I might get nearer to you. | tiresome than that. he solved the mystery of her I had. only} just been introduced to you, and Eunice! Darley was your closest friend, so why | should I not cultivate her? for by so do-| | the eat thing you know she is smising on I think Eunice i is|some other ‘fellow who has had twenty ‘girls at least on the string. . At the same time it is host to be cau- | tious about talking of the other girls who have cared for you, as nothing is more If a youth is forever itelling of his other girls, the one whose | society he seeks most will become wearied and will shun him. If in’ a satural manner, without any boasting on his part, she finds out that other girls have admired himj that they still admire him and envy her, she will cling to him all the more closely. If he sometimes leads her to feel uncertain as to his entire devotion to her, she will think all the more of him. When a fish is safely hooked and landed, the fisherman looks for another fish; but as- long as there is danger that he may get away, the ‘fisherman gives him his entire attention. Frank Merriwell began to laugh. He ‘felt like teasing Winnie a bit, for she lost no opportunity to tease him. Winnie arose toherfeet. She stamped her foot and cried: ‘“You have not answered me, sir!’ ‘I humbly beg your pardon,’’ came ‘with sudden gravity from the lad’s lips. The girl’s face relaxed a bit despite | <“What was your question ?”” herself, but she said: ‘‘T asked you how many mines girls you “Oh, you have the nicest way of get-| have ever had.”’ ting around things! You. really try to |. ‘*Not more than eight or ten, I assure make me think you were attentive to) you,’’ said Frank, ‘with tcitied erat Eunice because you thought so ates of | ity. ome. I never sawa fellow like you! _ bet anything you have had a dozen girls, | Frank _Merriwell!”” ‘Oh, not so many as that, Winnie! 1 os Don’t set it so high.’’ or Well, then, I will let yow set it. ¢ "How Sear! have ee had, sir w Di been a genuine masher, and indeed! Then you must ‘have ) ‘Oh, ce Oh, I protest!’ cried Frank, quickly. i there is any thing I despise it is a masher!” ““So do I, and any fellow che: hae: te see or ten gee must be a masher hee Pe a aS 12 FRANK MIERRIWELL’S QUEEN. do not care to have anything to do with such a person.’’ ‘Winnie!’ “Mr, Merriwell!”’ Now Frank was alarined. He sprun to his feet, and she retreated haughtil before him. : ‘Winnie!’ he cried again, toward her with hands outstretched, ‘*Stop!’? she commanded, and she was as imperious as a queen. ‘‘You have heard what I had to say, sir!’ ‘‘But you were not in earnest, Winnie —I know you were not!’’ ‘‘T am in earnest, Mr. Merriwell! Go to your eight or ten other girls! Surely you will be able to find one among them that is worthy. Go, sir!’ ‘But, Winnie——”’ “It is useless to talk !”’ Frank’s manner suddenly changed. i; ‘‘Oh, very well,’ he said, quietly; ‘‘I oe will go. It is all right. I see you do not é care for me, anyway. one who does some time. I will not a trouble vou again, Miss Lee. Ifwe never meet again as friends you will have no one but yourself to blame. I hope you may be happy. Good-evening.’’ He retreated to the door and bowed himselfout. Inthe hall he found his hat and coat, and he lost no time in getting out of the house, as he knew how change- able girls are, and he felt that she might call him back at any moment. He was right. Barely was he out of the house, when Winnie came rushing into the hall. ‘*Rrank! Frank!’ she called. The door was closed, and she heard his steps on the stone walk outside. Press- ing her hands to her bosom, she listened tili they could be heard no longer. Then she fairly flew up the stairs to her room. She fastened the door behind her and flung herself on the bed, burst- ing into tears. : “Oh, I hate him—I hate him!’’ she cried. ‘‘I think he is the meanest fellow -—just the very meanest! To think that he could leave me like that! Asif he didn’t know I really did not mean all I was saying! Boys are such fools, anyway ! _ He went away without making up—with- out kissing me! I do hate him—I do! tro do!”? Beh 4A ; S going or 2 y © | Oh, no! Then she lay there and sobbed as if her heart were breaking. At length her sobs \erew less violent, and then finally died to |a convulsive catching of the breath. ‘“Frank !’’ she whispered, ‘‘dear Frank! | You are the noblest fellow in all the ‘world! What other fellow would have ‘done what you did for Evan Hartwick? I do not hate you, Frank—I do |not- hate you! What if you have had other gitls? The girl who did nct admire |you would bea fool! I.ama bad, mean ‘girl, Frank! Won’t you forgive me— | won't you, please, dear Frank ?”” A few moments of silence, and a low | moan came from her lips. | ‘*He said we would never meet again as \friends, and it would be my fault! He | was right! I have no one but myself to blame, and I wish I might die—there! | It would serve me right!”’ E | And so, lying on the bed, having for- igotten to undress, she fell asleep and | d I mav find some{dreamed of Frank Merriwell. . es ee ee CHAPTER VI. A COWARDLY BLOW. ‘“‘“How much like a girl that was!’’ ‘thought Frank as he hurried from the | house. ‘*She was unreasoning, and she |expected to bring me to my knees before her. She hardly thought I would leave so suddenly. JI am really sorry to pain the little girl, but she would have felt hands as she anticipated. Now she will wisn she had not commanded me to go, and the chances are ten to one that I’ll receive a letter from her to-inorrow asking me to call.’’ | Frank resolved that he would not call again till Winnie invited him. In this matter he would make her give in or he would remain away. Heknewshe would think all the more of hin if he did so. He had not been to blame, and so his conscience did not smite him. But he fell to thinking of what Winnie had said of other girls. Certainly there had been other girls whom he had ad- he had felt that he had loved. | He had not forgotten Inza Burrage— dark-eyed .Inza, who had made such an impression on his boyish heart while he was a student at the military academy. too Sure of me if I had played into her mired—girls whom, in his. boyish way, rere ie cae gotten him, for -all that? FRANK MERRIWELL’S QUEEN. 13 It seemed, however, that Inza had for-! she had ceased to write | to him, and he had lost all trace of her. He had last seen her in London, while she | was traveling with her invalid father, who | was seeking to recover his health abroad. He had last heard of her from Venice. He had tried to learn something more of/o her, but his last letters had remained | unanswered, and he finally came to the) conclusion that Inza had tired of him at| last. | There was another, however, of whom he thought even more tenderly than of Inza. That other was Elsie Bellwood, the old sea captain’s dauglter—sweet, | eentle little Elsie, with the sunny hair and trusting eyes In F tank’s S heart Elsie Bellwood had | won a place unoccupied by any other girl. She was so trusting and clinging, so in-| nocent and child like, that he felt more like a big brother to her than anything else. Elsie had been very dear to him. It | had been his fortune to rescue her froin many grave perils, and with her soft round arms clinging about his neck, her’ golden hair brushing his cheek, he had But Elsie was Inza’s friend, and she had feared she was doing wrong in caring | for Frank. Inza had known Frank first, and she had been kind to Elsie. Elsie did not wish to betray her friend, and she | had tried to forget Frank. Fate, however, had flung them together | several times. It had enabled Frank to} aid in rescuing Elsie from a shipwreck, to save her from ruffans in the Florida | Everglades, and to save her from a gorilla | in the heart of an African forest. | How could Elsie conceal her love after, She found it impossible, and. she found that Frank had cared_very much for her from the first. But the memory of Inza haunted her. | She had resolved again and again that) a would cease to. correspond with | rank. Finally she had done so, and as | ie was on board ship with her father, it | was not an easy thing for Frank to keep) trace of her. Thus it came about that Penal had heard nothing from Inza or Elsie in a phil pens time. itle, clinging, ‘seemed to have a touch of both character- istics. ‘in the wrong. | pe assed, that she was the most miserable should begin to believe that both girls had ceased to care for him. All his let- iters remained unanswered, and he gave up writing. Then came his friendship wit | Lee. In many ways Winnie reminded Frank f both Inza and Elsie. She looked like Elsie and she had Inza’s proud spirit and jealous nature. Inza had filled Frank with admiration, while Elsie had aroused his affections and sympathy by her gen- trusting nature. Winnie h Winnie In the morning after she had sent Frank iaway Winnie was filied with remorse and rregret, She felt that she had seriously offended him, and she knew that she was It was not an easy thing fer her to think of confessing as much, however. Winnie was miserable.. Two days and her moods were strangely changeable. At times she would be all laughter and apparent lightness of spirit, ‘but she was likely to be depressed and ready to burst into tears over the simplest : a ‘matter a few inoments later. often felt that he could die for Elsie. . | — Girl like she told herself Over and over ) person 10 the world. She vowed that she would | _ ‘never have another word to say to Frank i—-enever! never! A few minutes later she would decide that she would drop him a }note, ask him to call, and beg his pardon. But would he call if she asked him? That question troubled her. She reimem- \bered his proud dignity as he took his de- parture, and she feared that matters could never again be the same between them.. She did write several notes, or begin to write them, but she was not satisfied with the wording of them, and she tore up one after another. Finally, one day as she was out shop- \ping she saw Frank at a distance. He did not see her, and she made no effort. ito meet him. But when she returned home she immediately sat down and wrote a brief note, asking him to call and stat- ing that she had something to tell him. ‘*Please come,’’ were her final words. But that note was never mailed. : Each day Frank looked for a line from It was nee that he| Winnie, ane he wondered that none came, SS pace Ete Vy we dere oe 14 FRANK MERRIWELL’S QUEEN, Was it possible that she had determined that all was ended between them? Was it| possible that she was so spirited she! would not be the first to make advances toward a reconciliation ? ‘*If that is the case,’’ said Frank, grimly, “T fear there sit be no reconcil- iation.’”’ Then he saw her pass in a carriage. She looked at him, and he was certain she was on the point of recognizing him, so he lifted his hat and.smiled. That smile froze on his face, for Win- nie gave him a cold stare, as if he were an image of stone. She had cut him! That was altogether too Frank to endure without a feeling of re- sentment, and his teeth came together with a click. “She is unjust!’’ he thought. settles everything !”’ From that moment he tried to put! Winnie Lee ott of his mind, and he went | at his studies and athletic exercises with’ redoubled energy. He was determined to ‘be in the very finest physical condition for the spring matches. He was sure. of the ’varsity nine, and it was said that he would try for the crew. Frank did not say much about his intentions himself. He had not the least idea that Evan Hartwick had struck him a blow, but such was the fact. , Then there were rumors that Merri-- well’s.fathet bore a very bad reputation. It was said that he had deserted his family, that he was a gambler. It was even hinted that he was a convict. Rattleton heard these rumors, and he was indignant. He denounced them as fabrications of the worst sort. But when Rattleton was questioned as| to what he knew about Merriwell’s| father, he was forced to confess that he| knew very little. Frank had sometimes | spoken of his mother, but hardly ever, if| ever, of his father. Harry believed that Frank’s enemies | were working insidiously to injure .him, | 5 pity he could not seem to obtain proof to that effect. He did not like to speak to Frank of the matter, and thus it stood as _ Spring came on. | _ _Bunice Darley came on to New orce and she was often seen n with Winnie Lee. much for) ih ie WES | ! 1 . ‘thought. | Rattleton’s Once Frank saw Eunice and Evan Hart- wick together. That was enough to make Frank feel rather resentful toward Eunice. “She is like most girls,’? Merriwell ‘“Their friendship is of the most fickle sort. I believe she has cared for. that fellow Hartwick all along.’’ Rattleton was watching Hartwick as a sat watches a mouse. He was determined to know if Hartwick was still working to injure Merriwell. This surveillance led him to arrive atthe conclusion that Hart- wick, was again working to get into Win- nie Lee’s good graces through the influ- ence of Eunice Darley. ‘“That fellow ought to be shot!’’ was mental.comment. ‘‘I’ll wa- ger something that he is hanged some day! 1 Harry was discerning enough to dis- — cover that Frank and Winnie were at outs, but he felt that was a point on which he well unless a particularly good oppor- tunity occurred. Although he was Frank’s room mate, he was impressed with a feeling’ of respect for Merriwell that would not allow him to become familiar on certain matters. Merriwell kept so close to his studies and to his work in the gymnasium that he did not happen to meet Eunice. He sometimes wondered if she, also, would cut him if they happened to meet. Then came the vacation before the spring term. ‘ When Frank returned to New Haven he resumed college life with the zest that was peculiar with him. He had not forgotten Winnie Lee by any means, and he wondered if Eunice Darley was still in New Haven. One afternoon he started to walk out toward Winnie’s home.’ Something seetned to lead him in that direction. He was walking along at a brisk pace, rattle of Then a run- dragging, a carriage in when there came a shddes wheels and clatter of hoofs. away horse, which was a_ single cecuipant, dashed - around a corner. ; One glance showed Frank that the oc cupant of the carriage was a girl, and she had lost the reins. » As the horse came tearing afound the Se tes did not care to question Merri-- ; | } | 1 | { + ncaa Aa ci nlp eae a at igs ni eat . Tat Ee : wk: “Mess ; nea “ & - ® danger*to himself. FRANK MERRIWELL’S QUEEN. 15 corner the carriage was nearly overturned, but it did not quite upset. With ears laid back, nostrils dilated, eyes filled with a mad fear, and foam flying from its open jaws, the animal came tearing along the street, dragging the rocking carriage. + If the horse was not stopped a, catastro- phe, possibly a fatal accident, might occur —was almost certain to occur. And the girl in the carriage? Frank caught a fair look at her face and 1ecog- nized her. It was Winnie Lee! There was ‘no time for meditation; it was a time for instant action. Frank ran toward the centre of the street to make an attempt to stop the run- away. ‘*T will save her!’’ was his determina- tion. There was no hesitation because of the There was not even a thought of danger. He poised himself to make a spring for the horse’s head and at the moment when he was about to leap he received a_ heavy - blow on the back of the head that cast him prostrate before the frightened runa- way! ee CHAPTER VII. THE RACE FOR LIFE. Frank was stunned. The horse and carriage were right upon him and it seemed that he must be crushed beneath the horse’s feet and the wheels. Even though the boy had not been helpless to get out of the way there was on two wheels. It seemed bound to go over in one grand crash, but it righted. The girl had clung fast with both hands. Otherwise she must have been flung out. As it was she barely held on. Frank Merriwell lifted himself from the dirt. A figure was just vanishing round a corner and he obtained an in- distinct glimpse of the fellow who had struck him down. The horse was madly tearing down the street and the girl was still clinging fast in the carriage. Frank's first impulse was to rush after the cowardly ruffan who had struck him and then he sprang up and staggered af- ter the runaway. ‘*Winnie!’’ he hoarsely gasped. will be killed!”’ The knowledge of her frightful peril drove all thoughts of himself from his head. But he could do nothing to save her. His opportunity was past. Was it? | At the next corner a saddled and bridled horse was hitched to an iron post, its owner having left it there a short time before. It showed its spirit by snorting and rearing as the runaway dashed past. Frank saw that horse and new life came into his “body like a flash. He dashed toward the horse, taking from his pocket a clasp knife as he ran. His thumb touched a spring and the knife flew open. fe _ ‘The horse was reached just as the owner attracted’ by the noise of the runa- ‘: q ‘tT am sure of it.’ deliver | Frank was silent some moments, and/| then he said: ‘‘T am inclined to believe you are| right, although it was not a man who dressed like Hartwick, as [ remember him | from the glimpse I obtained. I do not know that I have another enemy in this| city who would resort to such a desperate and cowardly trick. It seems like Hart- wick. Still I have no proof as yet that it was that fellow. I shall look for proof.”’ ‘*Proof?’’ spluttered Harry, excitedly. | “While you are looking for proof he} -may get at you again and job the finish— I mean finish the job.’ : *““He has not been very successful fa his efforts against me thus far, and I do) not think he ever will succeed. The one | who struck me may have been a _ hired | ruffian. ’ ‘“’Then Hartwick hired fii = ‘Very likely, but I mist establish that | fact.’ . ‘When you do you will let up on him, and he’ll get off without punishment, as usual.”’ ‘Not this time, my boy. I have vowed to return tert for. blow. I have endured as much from Hartwick as I can, and I shall show him no mercy. ’ ‘“Bravo, Frank!’? cried Rattleton, as hand and wrung it. Hang me if I don?t believe - you really mean it this time!’’ Vou will find that Ido. I bought a _ horse to-day, Harry.’’ Bee ee MERRIWELL’S QUEEN. ; : ‘Eh? Wheejiz—no, jeewhiz! Rought | a horse ?”’ . Learnest.’”’ ‘is worse than neuralgia,’’ urged to call ata certain hour the CONE: ‘Yes, the horse with which I overtook the runaway. He isa handsome gelding, i and the owner says he is of fine stock.” i “Well, that is like you! ‘How much i did you pay for him?”’ i ‘‘One thousand dollars.’ i Rattleton dropped into a sitting pos- l ture as if he had been shot, and stared at” i | Frank peapitl i ‘*Say—say, Ke spluttered. ‘If you i idén’t kid your stopping—I mean stop _ Z| your kidding——”’ pe ‘‘Tam not kidding, old man. Iam in >) Cpe Harry gasped. ‘‘One thousand dollars!’ came huskily \from his lips, ‘‘You were hum out of your ped—I mean plumb out of your head | The excitement must have broken 2% }you all up.’ i: ‘That horse enabled me to save Win- i nie. The animal would be cheap to me y }at any price!”? i ‘‘Ginger; but you are all broken up a over that girl, Frank—that’ s plain. a You’ve got it ad f ae Frank flushed somewhat. i Neyer mind... ne. $aid,, "1 -dontt 7 as 'think it will prove fatal.’’ } ‘“‘And I don’t think Professor Scoteh 7 ‘will cough a thousand dollars without in- aE _vestigating matters." ‘“He never refuses me anything, and I ain sure | have taken pains to make my request in a manner that will cause him to hesitate about refusing this. I think ihe will cough the thousand, and do the kicking afterward.” “What will you do with the horse at iter you get it?” “Keep ieee ; “Oh, this love!’? chuckled Harry. Tt v3 Frank went out and to Scotch. 3 That very evening he received a briet note from Winnie Lee. It was couched — in the most friendly terms, and he was mailed his letter a ing afternoon. “T wonder how I am to be ieee he speculated. ‘‘She sent mé away, a oe: then cut me on the street. I fancy re { ae | Ee = rate ai aaoacenh es - will know if it was Hartwick.’ rs stantly opened and Winns was there. with both of hers, and drew him into the ~ ong aly es 8ANK MERRIWELL’S QUEEN. 21 will be somewhat embarrassing when we | ineet.”’ In the meantimie, he set about some de- tective work. He believed that there must have been several witnesses to the cowardly biow he had received when he was about to make the attempt to stop) the runaway, and it was his destre to find them all. He seemed to remember that a mai who was standing on acorner near by at the time must have witnessed the whole affair. Frank found time to go down. to that | part of the city and seek for witnesses, but at first he did not discover any person the runaway passed, and they all sup- posed he had been upset by the horse, or had leaped from the carriage. ‘‘T am quite sure Winnie will be able to settle it,’? thought Frank. ‘‘She must have seen the fellow fairly, and she |you on your remarkabl : | stopping Winnie’s runa’ way horse yester- who had seen him knocked down.” He} found several who saw him jump up after Two reporters had called on Frank the previous evening and the morning papers | came out with a description of the run-| away and Frank’s gallant work in stop- | ping the frightened horse. Winnie Lee had also been interviewed, | | and she had said some very complimen- | tary things about Frank, so that he| blushed like a girl when he tread the re-| ports in the papers. here were few students at Yale wiro| did not read the account of the affair in! the papers or heard all about it from some | other fellow within a short time, and Frank found that he had again done something to distinguish himself, Frank waited with impatience the ap- proach of the hour set by Winnie for him to call. It came at last, and within’ one minute of the time set he ascended the steps of her home and rang the bell. That she was watching for him imme- diately became evident, for the door in- She had not been able to wait for a ser- vant to let him in. Winnie caught hold of Pranks hands hall. - **Rrank !”” ‘Winnie, my queen!”’ ae CHAPTER’ &X. EUNICE DARLEY’S SECRET. It was nearly an hour later that Eunice Darley, who was visiting Winnie and was in a room above, was called down to ineet Frank. Eunice found two very happy-looking | young persons in the parlor, and it was \plain they had come to a perfect under- standing. Hiriioe gave Frank her hand. “*T am very glad to see you, Mr. Merri- well,’’ she declared; and I congratulate achievement in iday. I have read the papers to- day—we both read thém, didn’t we, Winnie? You are a perfect hero. -And the re- porters say this is but one of many heroic things you have done.’’ ‘“The reporters like to exaggerate, you know,’’ smiled Frank. ‘*T am sure that statement was not an exaggeration,’’ said Eunice, who seemed to have changed since Frank saw her last, being much graver and more digni- fied. ‘““Of course it wasn’t!’’ cried Winnie. “Why DPve just found out: that he has | traveled all over the world. He has saved ‘other girls from greater peril than I was ‘In yesterday. W Thy he says he was able to save Miss Bellwood from the clutches of a gorilla in Africa!”’ ‘Then there is such a person as Miss 'Bellwood ?’’? asked Eunice. ‘Oh, yes; he acknowledges that.”’ ‘‘And Miss Burrage.”’ . ‘*Yes, he says there is a Miss Bur- rage.’’, Eunice seemed surprised. ‘‘T did not believe it,’’. she acknowl- edged. ‘‘I felt certain the proofs you received from a certain person who did not sivn his name to his letters were all manufactured to injure Mr. Merriwell.’’~ ‘‘No,’? said Frank, gravely; ‘‘a part of what this person claimed is true, part is false. I wondered that Winnie should cut me as she did after our little mistinderstanding, and I never knew the PRT TIT 7 and a cause till a short time ago, when she ~ showed me the anonymous letters she re- ceived. The writer of these letters had been to some pains to find out about my ee : ~ oe had seus out that ee ad _ ing the floor in gfeat excitement. a moment. “This wretch Hartwick has used that 22 FRANK MERRIWELL'S QUEEN, father was a fortune-seeker and was sel-|wick’s blow. He has stood too much dom seen at his home dtring the last! from that fellow, and he means to crush years of my mother’s life; but he lied| him now.”’ when he said my father was a gambler! ‘‘But it must not be known that I ever and a criminal,’’ did anything against him!’ fluttered A look of pain came to Eunice Dar-| Eunice, in terror. ‘‘He must not know ley’s face, and she pressed her handker-| that I identified the writing of the anony- chief to her lips. Frank observed~ her! mous letters you received as being his for dgitation, but she motioned for him to all that it was disguised. ”’ proceed. | “*He shall not know.”’’ ; ‘My accuser was unable to prove e that | ‘‘How can Mr. Merriwell strike him my father had ever committed a criminal | | without letting him know we are in any act, but he could offer proof that he was Manner concerned % a a wanderer and an apparent outcast. He) ‘“‘He hopes to find witnesses to prove could also offer proof that I had corre-|that Hartwick struck him down almost sponded with Inza Burrage and Eléic| beneath the feet of my horse. That will Bellwood, and that, ina certain way, I|catuse Hartwick’s expulsion from col- had been very attentive to them both. | lege.” That I ever pledged myself to marty | ‘‘And that will be the heaviest blow either of them is false. ‘That I broke! he could receive,’’ declared Eunice. ‘‘I Elsie Bellwood’s heart by my treatment! am sure his father will make him go to of her is also false. That I ‘am. still| work and earn his own living if ie is bound to Inza Burrage is not true. Both|expelled.”’ of these girls ceased to correspond with} ‘‘Then it will be the best ching for me of their owr accord. I wrote them | everybody if he is expelled,’’ said Frank. last, and they have not replied. Where} ‘‘He will be busy, and he’ll not have so either of them can be now I have not}much time to trouble others.’’ the least idea. , ‘Oh, if I might never see his face There, that is the truth, and Winnie again!—if I might never hear of him believes me. She is sorry she allowed | again!’’ cried Eunice. ; herself to be deceived by a person who ‘is|_ Frank wondered at the girl’s fear and my relentless and unscrupulous enemy. | horror of Hartwick. It seemed remarka- We have come to a perfect understanding, ble. | and Ido not think he will be able to). Of a sudden, releasing herself from ; ‘ > in ; make anv further trouble between us.) Winnie’s arm, which had been about. What do you think, little queen ?”’ her waist, Eunice turned to Frank.’ Winnie smiled up at him. “Mr, Merriwell,’’ she said, swiftly, *‘1 “Vou know I have told you I'll. never| believe you are thoroughly honorable, allow anybody to cause me to doubt you|and I think I may trust you with my again, Frank.’’ : ‘secret. I am sure you will not betray it.’’ ‘‘T am certain,’? said Frank, ‘that the| And then before he could speak she writer of the letters to Winnie ‘was the} went on: same one who struck me down in front! ‘I have a brother. He was charged of the runaway horse yesterday; but, un-| with a crime, and he is in prison. He fortunately, Winnie was so frightened at) was tried and committed under a ficti- the time that she did not observe him|tious name. His mother does not know closely, and she is not ready to swear it) what has become of him. She thinks he was Evan Hartwick.’’ went to Australia, and she expects him *‘Oh, he is mean and ict and cow-/to return some day. It would break her ardly enough to do that!’’ cried Eunice| heart if she knew the truth. Evan Hart- Darley, springing to her feet and walk-| wick knows it.”’ She choked at that point, and then Winnie was at the side of her friend in 1 ae continued: “ “Be _ calin, Eunice,’ she Greed. secret to compel me to do things he could “Brank declares he will sora Hart- | not have induced me to do in any other | ‘ it SF A SPO eg pe nen , { ee I te 4 es ntapatotte te 4 eka oA te a eS i Boe 8} Ye _a caged and infuriated wild beast. FRANK MERRIWELL’S way. He forced me to aid him in trying to win Winnie’s regard; he compelled me to drop the drug in vour glass of drink- ing water at.the time when you after- ward seemed to be intoxicated at Mrs. Greydon’s; he has made me pretend to like him when I have despised and hated him all the time. This is the truth, Mr. Merriwell—the wretched truth !’’ “‘T believe you, Miss Darley. ”’ ‘‘T would give anything if that fellow was compelled to go to some foreign country and remain there the rest of his life—if he might never communicate with any one in this country.”’ - “YT have no further regard for Mr. Hartwick,’’ said Frank, rising. ‘‘I shall return the blow he struck me—with in- terest. If I can prove he delivered that blow, he will be forced to leave Yale. [Pll not bring either of you two young ladies into the matter, but. I will utterly crush the fellow!’? Frank’s face showed that he was most intensely in earnest. — CHAPTER XI. EVIE PASSIONS. Hartwick was raging in his room like In his hand he held a paper which gave a full account of Frank Merriwell’s feat in pur- suing and stopping the runaway. In connection with the report of the affair was a brief sketch of Merriwell’s career since entering Yale, and he was pictured as a most ambitious, nervy and remarka- ble young man. The door opened and Ditson sauntered in, dressed immaculately and smoking a cigarette. The contrast between the pol- ished appearance of Ditson and Hartwick’s air of general slouchiness was remarkable. A stranger seeing the two together would have supposed Ditson was the son of very wealthy parents, while Hartwick’s parents were poor. ‘‘Ah, dear boy!’’ greeted Roland, in a languid wav. ‘‘What is the matter? Something unusual, I am sure.’’ _ “Come in and close that. door, con- found you!’ snarled Hartwick. ‘“‘I ‘don’t care to have everybody who goes ee oe in here.’ _ Ditson obeyed the command in a very isurely manner. . see don’t care about being ner names—not ‘straightened up. QUEEN. ~ 23 ‘You seem to be somewhat excited, Harty,’’ he observed, as he toddled over to a chair, upon which he gracefully sank. ‘Harty !’’ cried Evan, fiercely. ‘‘You want to drop that! If you value your per- sonal satety, don’t call me Harty!’ ‘“By Jove! but you are in a bad way, dear boy! what can be the matter with you? Inever saw you quite.so excited.”’ ‘‘Look at this! Confound your‘eyes! can you see this? Read it! If that isn’t enough to drive a man out of his senses!” He held the paper before Ditson, and pointed with a trembling finger to the’ article concerning Merriwell. ‘Aw! Pve read all that, my. boy,’’ drawled Roll. ‘Oh, you have?”’ “Yes, I presume nearly every fellow in college knows about it by this time, you understand.’’ ’ ‘“That’sit!?? Hartwick almost shrieked. ‘*It is that fellow’s infernal luck! He is a hero again! Oh, if that horse had gone over him—had trampled him to. death !”” ‘You mean when he was knocked down by the horse as he tried to stop it the first time?’ ‘Knocked down by the horse! Bah! That is what knocked him down! and Hartwick shook his fist under Ditson’s nose. Roll elevated his eyebrows. ‘“Really??? he exclaimed. understand.”? : ‘“*T struck him down, you blockhead! © Do you understand now: ” ‘Look here, Hartwick, you want to be © a bit more cateful with your tongue! I “T don’t 5 . even from you.’ ‘ ‘*Oh, is that KS Tam the only man at Yale who does not call you names. ~All the others call youa traitor and a sngak!”’ ‘““Phat’s all right! I’ll make some of them sorry some time!”? ‘Yes, you will—nit! nerve of a sick cat!’’ Ditson flung aside his Goatees sane You rege t the “JT have stood as much of ta from you as Tam going to stand, Hartwick,’ he declared. ‘‘You want to drop it, or a; will do something you won’t like. mr a A sneer came to. aoe Ss face. ee : 3 $0 ie say Diste- | 24 FRANK MERRIWELL’S QUEEN was int an ugly mood, and, from all ap-| him to escape haa ne not been stunned. pearances, he had never liked Ditson.| Ditson was greatly interested. Now he seemed to rejoice in the opportu-| ‘‘And still he escaped.”’ nity to pick a quarrel with him. | Hartwick gave another snarl, ‘What will you do?’’ he asked, mock-| “Escaped! Satan must have protected ingly. ‘‘What will you dare to do, you|/him! The horse sheered—the wheels brave fellow ?”’ ‘brushed him—he was not touched! “You ought to be aware that I can do, Think of that! If it had been any other something unpleasant if I care to. I/}fellow he would have been maimed *ot can tell certain things concerning you! killed; but Merriwell escaped without that——’’ harm.”’ «6 bare At ES . eines . “CAnd vou?’ Oh, very brave! Yes, I suppose you) you: might. You kept that foil with which I} “*! got out of that as quickly as I could. tried to mark him for life by driving the He was stunned, and he did not know point through hismask. Youcouldshow|Who hit him. When he jumped up he that I fixed the button so I could remove! rushed atter the runaway, without looking it. Oh, yes, you might do that!” | for ie. ‘I did not. say that I would, Hart- ‘‘And he stopped ee runaway ?”’ wick,’? said Roland, quickly; ‘‘but I “Oh, yes! oh, yes! Of course he did! want you to remember what I mightdo.’? Somebody had a horse ready at hand for “Tf you do such a thing, you want to the emergency, and with the aid of that look out for me!’’ Hartwick snarled, horse he oyertook the runaway and “T1] get at you some way!’ brought him to a_ halt, which anybody “Oh, I don’t know!”’ returned Ditson, | could have done. Now he is once more a somewhat tauntingly. ‘You don’t’seem | hero, a he should be lying in the hos- to get at Merriwell so very fast.’? pital!) ‘Ah-rr-rh!? snarled Evan, grinding} Hartwick raved like a maniac, tearing his teeth, ‘‘No other fellow in the world about the room, Ditson really enjoyed could have such luck as that dog! I have it. Ree Ty back and lighted a fresh - been watching for a month to get at him, | Cigarette, something like a smile lurking Yesterday I saw my opportunity. I saw) about his face. ; him walking along the street. At the! At last Hartwick stopped before same inoment I saw this runaway, and J Roland. : tecognized Winnie Lee in™the carriage, ‘““What are you grinning about?’’ he I saw him prepare to stop the horse and grated, quivering with rage. ‘‘I believe save her. The thought that he would) you are glad this happened as it did!”’ again become a hero in her eyes mad-| ‘‘Oh, no, dear boy!’ dened me!”’ | ‘**Don’t ‘dear boy’ me! J know you Ditson grinned scérnfully. are no real friend of mine! I have known “Still stuck on her,’’ he commented. it all along! What are youin here to-day ‘Still fancying you can get back into her) for, anyway ?’? favor some way. | CWhy, I called to see you, that is all.’’ ‘fAt that moment I hated them both py ‘Well, it ts time for yon to go. You cried Hartwick, fiercely. ‘‘I felt that [| do not improve the state of my mind at had gather she should be dashed from the / all. our room is preferable to your carriage and killed than that he should | Company.’ ’ rescue her and again become a hero in her | Ditson was surprised, for Hartwick had eyes!”? ‘never dared to speak in such a manner to ‘Well, what did you do?”? ‘him before this. “Twas furious! I believe Iwas mad! ‘Oh, well, Ill go!’ he said; but = for the moment.. I saw him rush out to; you might let me have twenty-five dol- stop the horse. As the horse caine along’! lars, as I need it bad, you know, aon , I struck Merriwell on the back of the | boy.’? head, knocking him down directly before | So that is what you came in “for? * the frightened ‘animal, and he was stunned | ’That’s what you have hung onto. me al] There ‘was no ees for along for! I knew oe y ~ “a mh across the couch. on Ditson’s throat, words or cry that might FRANK MERRIWELL’S QUEEN. 25 ‘*Oh, come now——’’ Ditson started | to protest. “Shut up!’ hissed Hartwick. ‘I| know it, I tell you! You have kept that | foil that you might keep your grip on|oning passion, borrowed, bor- | a dollar or a cent have you It has been blackmail pure | me! You have borrowed, rowed! Not paid back. and simple!’ . ‘Oh, my dear fellow, “Shut up!” caine: still more fiercely from Evan. ‘‘I have seen through your little game all along! Now] ani going to tell you something. Ss **Go ahead.’ crf you do not give up that-foil this | ’) | you are—— ‘each other. pressed his thumbs into the windpipe of | the attacked lad, and forced his knee deep ‘into the pit of Ditson’s stomach. His face was working with a terrible, unreas- and his eyes ‘glared with a- light that filled Ditson’s soul with horror ‘Inexpressible. And then, as Ditson grew black in the \face, Hartwick suddenly gasped for ‘breath, his grip slackened, and he stag- gered backward, dropping limply into a chair. proper functions. on another attack. His theart was not performing its His rave has brought Ditson sat up, and the two glared-at Hartwick was pressing his day,. i 1] make you sorry you were born ! ‘hands to his heart, while Ditson was rub- No more. money do you get from me! bing his throat. Understand that! If I lay for you, I’l] get | you! you as this fellow Merriwell!’ ‘Why, you are threatening me, are you? You are going to push" me to the wall ?’’ “Tam going to make you give up th at foil, and then y aim done with you. You) are no assistance to me, because you have | not the nerve to strike at Merriwell. | | You let me do everything.’ . A desperate look caine into Ditson’s| eyes. He had held Hartwick in his grip, and he did not propose to lose his hold so easily. I shall not give up the foil, ” > he de clared ; ‘and 1 want twenty- five dollars. I want it now. Ditson had decided to beconte absolute | - snaster then and there. « ‘ I “You'll not get twenty-five adits 374 shouted Hartwick, unable to keep his | voice down. ‘‘ And if you do not give up that foil——’”’ ‘*T will give it up—but. not, to you. ” ‘‘What do you mean?’? = » “D1 give it to Merriwell. Do not think for a’ moment that he will be soft. enough to let you off agin. Ill tell him | all I know! The foil will be proof. And fhen-——" . : - With a snarl like the onal that might come from the lips of a mad dog, Hart- wick leaped on Ditson, caught “him. by the throat, and _ bore icy: backward ~Evan’s fingers closed You'll have no such luck to save &y es. | pla¥ing with fire. | Hartwick, arise. | A great fear had come into Ditson’s: He realized at last that he had been ‘(He meant murder!’’ Roland thought. **T saw it in a face! I saw the foul _|fiend in his eves! It was a close call for me! I must get out!” Then he rose weakly to’ his feet, and hastened from the room, trembling ‘im every limb. Hartwick called to Ditson in a whisper, - \and motioned for him to stay ; but Roland paid no attention, save it were to hasten away all the faster. CHAPTER XII. PROOF. Ditson was badly frightened, | was furious at the same time. ‘‘Tam done with him,’’ he muttered. ‘*But Ill fix him! No ‘fellow can use me that way! I’ll make him sorry! He will be driven from Yale!’’ He believed he had lost his grip on and he was in a desperate mood. He felt that he would do anything to get even with the fellow who had made such a fierce assault upon him. — Ditson was revengeful, but he lacked nerve. He was not one to engage in an open encounter with a foe. ; He was not logical in his ion and, being enraged, he did not pause to — consider that he might get himselfin- — volved if he tried to strike at Hartwick. © Now that he feared Hartwick, Ditson’s © and he choking back any)one thought was to drive him from col- — He| lege, which he believed could be done. ee of yours, Merriwell. 26 That evening Merriwell came into his room, a look of satisfaction on his face. Rattleton was studying. “Tl have the proof that I want,’’ de-| clared Frank. ‘‘Kh?’? said Harry, looking up and tossing the book aside. “How is that?” ‘*T have found a man who saw the per- | son who struck me.”’ *“Serate Gott!—I mean great Scott! you don’t say so!” “I am giving it to you straight, MG _ “Who is it ?”’ ‘A man who was on a nearby cornet at the time I was struck.”’ «What does he say ??” ‘*He says he saw the fellow who struck | me, and he is certain to recognize him if| he sees him again.’ “‘And it was Hartwick who did the} yours . o. “Tt seems so.’’ ‘*What are you going to do?’’ “*Prove it, and then strike back.”’ ‘*How will you bike strack—er strike back ?”” ‘With this,’? and Frank held up his fist. - Pts. “That's all right, but it’s not all you) ate going todo, is it?” ‘‘Wait and see.’? * Vou dre Sootinii if you do not crush Hartwick. -You can have no sympathy for him now, and you should——’’ Harry stopped. The door opened and three fellows came in. They were Browning, Diamond and Griswold: + “Hello, fellows!’? cried Griswold, cheerily. ‘‘Why, that is a tragic attitude You look like an actor. I was an actor myself-once. I went out with the Baker Shop Company, and played a leading role.”’ : But he didn’t “get the Atsabs; even though he kneaded it,’? murmured Browning, as he settled into a comforta- ble chair. “No, I couldn’t seem to snake a taise,’’ said Griswold, with a grin. “Look here!’’ cried Diamond; ‘‘you _ fellows will have to stop punning, or Pl chase myself.” / “Speaking about chasing Goaeden makes me think of a horse-race I wit- _ messed the other day,’’ observed Gris- #4 aN “Tt was between two horses with | FRANK MERRIWELL'S QUEEN. {very peculiar names—Feet and Brains.’’ ‘Yah!’ grunted Bruce, wearily. ‘‘I presume Feet had a walkover?” eS chuckled Danny, ‘*Brains came in a head. ““Get out’? shouted » Rattleton—‘‘get lout of here! Every. time you fellows come around you bring a load of chest- pees, and we stand can’t it—I mean we |can’t stand it!?? “Not guilty!’ protested Diamond. “You never hear me springing gags of that sort.”’ - *’That’s so,’? nodded Frank. ‘‘Sit ~ | down, Diamond, and make |yourself at home. You are very welcome.’ | ‘*Hey??? cried Griswold. ‘‘Does that }mean that Browning and I are not wel- | come: - ‘*Oh, no, not at all,’’ smiled Frank. “Vou are all welcoine.’ ‘“‘What a relief!’ sighed Browning. “‘I am settled for the evening.”’ “On the level, Merriwell, said Brown- ins: ‘‘we dropped in to congratulate you on your freshly acquired fame. | was a great job youdid i in stopping that runaway horse yesterday.’ “Tt was not so much,’’ said Frank. |“ The papers made 1f seem more of a trick ithan it really was. “Vou. are too modest Merty,”’ cried Griswold. a ‘*But we have heard something about your being knocked down in front of the horse,’’ said Diamond. °‘‘Is that a fake, or is. it straight ?”? ; “Tt is straight epough,’ suddenly becoming serious. ‘‘I was knocked down.’? ‘*By some person ??’ ‘Ves, ? ‘The dickens you say! know-who it was?’’ ‘‘Not absolutely, but I will know be- fore long.’’ ie cah tell you now, Mr. Merriwell, "9 declared the voice of a person, who now And do you standing slightly ajar, and entered, the room. ‘Ditson |’? cried the lads in astonish- ment. | > “ ““Ditsbn—here !?” muttered Prank 3 de UN, wish ¢ to spat with you sia asbhe 2 That. altogether, > nodded Frank, . pushed open the door, which had been Merriwell,’’ said Roland, ay a wildly, SIP a Te PT PS FRANK MERRIWELL’S QUEEN, 27 “Anything you have to say to me you|planned to mark you for life when you are at liberty to say before these gentle-| fenced with him. men,’’ returned Frank, instantly. Ditson hesitated. in his hand; that something was wrapp ed | with paper. ‘*Y'd rather speak privately with you,”’ he said. Some of the lads moved as if to leave | was sharpened. the room, but Frank checked them. ‘‘Stay where you are,’’ he said. He held something | me, | or how he was going to do it. I did not know it be- fore the, encounter took place, believe He simply told me he would fix |you, but I did not know what he meant, He had \prepared his foil in advance so that he | could remove the button, and the point “T| since. His initials He had me smuggle the foil out of the gym. Ihave kept it ever are on the handle. prefer to have witnesses to any couversa-| Here it is!”’ tion that may take place between Mr. Ditson and myself.”’ up. ‘‘Perhaps you do not wish to hear what | with. I have to say?’ he questioned. **Go orgs aite > ‘*“Well, is like this: J have friendly ae Evan Hartwick of late, but | he assaulted me to- day. I believe he was crazy enough to murder me, and I am | afraid he may attempt it again. Now if| I will give you the proofs you desire against him, will you agree not to use} ‘them to injure me, and to protect me| from him ?”’ ‘‘Mr. Ditson,’’ said Frank, slowly, ‘‘I do not care to make a compact with you. | | paper. Roland was pale, and he seemed nerved | the point of the blade. | | Ditson removed a broken foil from the Merriwell took it, and examined As Ditson had said, it showed that it had been tampered The others crowded around and \looked at it. ‘*What will you do, Merriwell?’’ they been’ lasked. ‘‘T shall look for Mr. Hartwick this |evening,’’ answered Frank, grimly. CHAPTER XIII. MERRIWELL STRIKES BACK. Hartwick was in his room. There came 'a knock on the door. | : ; ; “It is Ditson,’’ he thought. ‘‘He has come back to settle things. Iam glad of You are my enemy, as you have plainly | it, for I didn’t want to go to him. ” I do not trust you. I demonstrated. will make no agreement. ”’ Ditson was dazed for a moment, for he) entered. had expected Merriwell would be only too glad to make a bargain with him. How- . | ever, he felt that he had gone too far to withdraw. Hartwick would learn that he' had offered to turn against him, and it| was certain that Hartwick would be furi- ous. He could not back out now. “IT throw myself on your generosity, Mr. Merriwell!?’ he cried. ‘“‘T am going to tell you anyway, and I believe you are too much of a gentleman to injure me with any information I may give vou. I know Hartwick was the one who struck you down in front of the runaway, for he told me so to-day. I will swear to that. It was an attempt to maim you for life—or kill you!”’ ‘The son of a gun!’’ cried. Griswold, ‘“That settles his hash!” Ee ut that is not all I wish to tell you, » -Ditson’ swiftly and almost tremblingly ‘continued. ‘‘I know that he deliberately 43 Z PEE ed | e “Come in,’’ he called. : The door opened, and Frank Merriweil He was alone. / Hartwick was staggered. ‘*VYou?’’ he cried—‘‘ you here ?’’ *“Yes,’? said Frank, coldly, ‘‘I am here” ‘What for??? ‘°To settle with you.’ ‘Settle !’”? snarled Hartwick, savagely. ‘What do you mean by that ?”” The key was in the door. Merriwell turned it in the lock, took’ it out and put it in his pocket. ‘“T will tell you what I mean,”’ he said, still speaking without a trace of excite- ment, yet with an ominous sound in his’ voice. ‘‘You have tried to injure me in’ the most cowardly manner, and you——”’ “Open tnat door! cried Hartwick. ‘Tf you do not, 1711 shout, and I'l] swear that you came.in here and threatened my life !”? WP ‘You will do nothing of ee; Kind, =. declared cee AS 28 FRANK MERRIWELL’S QUEEN. “Why not ?”? |be merciful! I have triedit. If you wish “Because when the fellows came toto escape open disgrace and expulsion this door, I would let them in and tell! from college, you will leave Yale imme- thent what I. know about you—what I diately and never return, Evan Hartwick! can prove,”’ (I mean it! I give you until to-morrow ‘‘You can’t prove anything!’ |noon to get out. If you are not gone by ‘“’That is where you are mistaken.”’ that time, the whole college shall know ‘Well, what can you prove—what dare| the kind of a man you are—the professors you prove ?”’ ishall know it! You will be publicly dis- **T know what you think. . You believe; graced! This is my blowin return for I refer to certain things which would in-| the disgrace you sought to bring on me!”’ volve two young ladies. I do not. I| Then, without another word, he took would not mention those things. But I} out the key, unlocked the door, and de- can prove that you attempted my life by | parted. knocking me in front of the runaway yes- | * *k xk *K * * terday.’’ | When Frank Merriwell next called on “Bah! Thatisa bluff! You can not; Winnie Lee he informed her that Evan prove it!’’ | Hartwick had left Yale and New Haven ‘Vou are mistaken. Mr. Roland Dit-|for good. son has declared before myself and four; ‘‘How did that happen?’? asked Win- others that you told him so.”’ | nie, in surprise. **T do not believe it!”’ ‘‘He was driven out by the pressure “You will before Iam through. Ican/|brought to bear on him,’’ answered pove another thing.”’ |Frank, with a strange smile. Hartwick ground his teeth, but did not! ‘‘I do not think I understand.”’ speak. | | ‘“Well, the time came when I was “T can prove that, with a fixed foil, ‘forced to do something to protect myself, you tried to pierce the mask that pro- vand you stood in fear of him. a tected my-face, so that you might destroy | ‘Oh, I did! cried Winnie, drawing one of my eves, mark me for life, or kill | closer to Frank. ‘‘Heseemed to hate me me, perhaps.”’ ‘after I found out what a mean fellow he ‘‘How can you prove it ?”’ | was, and would have nothing to say to ‘““By producing the. foil, with your | him.” . name on the handle.”’ | ‘‘I obtained proof that he struck me Hartwick forced a harsh, derisive| down before your horse when I tried to laugh. _|stop the animal. JI obtained proof of “More bluff!’ he cried. fother things. He knew I could cause his “Do you think so? Look at this!’ disgrace and expulsion.”? From beneath his coat Frank took one-| ‘And he ran away ?”’ ‘ . half of the tell-tale foil. '| “He left rather than face disgrace, for I . Evan glared at it and then he turned/ promised to expose him if he did not go. pale. He realized that Merriwell had| Did I do right, Winnie?” ; told everything straight. | “Right, Frank? Why, I do not be- Like a tiger, he leaped at Frank, think-| lieve you would willingly wrong a person ing to take him by surprise, knock him for all the world !”” , : down, and obtain possession of the foil, | ‘Dear little girl!’’ he softly said, his Metriwell dropped the broken foil be- arm encircling her. . hind him, warded Hartwick off, and then) ‘‘And I am so glad Hartwick is gone!”’ his fist shot out. ‘said Winnie. ‘‘I was awfully afraid of , Phim !?? | es ‘You. need fear him no mote, my queen,’’? murmured Frank, as he kissed her. e Crack !—a terrific blow landed betwee: Hartwick’s eyes, knocking him down in “an instant. Frank picked up the foil. sot ‘*Blow for blow!’ he cried, standing [THE END. ] oft over his prostrate foe. ‘‘And this is not| | $a the end! With such as you one can not , : er by but Frank MepriweEi. m Ss A PUBLICATION FOR YOUNG AMERICANS. NEW YORK, MARCH 6, 1897. Terms to Tip Top Weekly Mail Subscribers. (PoOstTaGk FREE.) 3 months =". --= -- =" - *=" 65e. | One-year - -o- = a0 +) +9. §2.50 4 months - - - - - - 85c.|2 copiesone year - - - - 4.00 6 months - - - - - + $1.25 | l copy two years - - - + 4.00 How To SEND MoNEY.—By post-office or express money order, registered letter, bank check or draft, at our _risk. At your own risk if sent by postal note, currency. coin, or postage stamps iu ordinary letter. RECEIPTs.— Receipt of your remittance is acknowledged by proper change of number on your label. If notcorrect you have not been properly credited, and should let us know at once. ; To CLUR RAIsERs.--Upon request we will send sample copies to aid you in obtaining subseribers. AGENTS.—Our responsibility for remittances applies only to such as are sent to us direct, and we will not guarantee the reliability of any subscription agency or postmaster, . All letters should be addressed to STREET & SMITH’S TIP TOP WEEKLY. 232 William St., New York City. A New Contest! OF INTEREST TO EVERY BOY Replies by Postal Only. ‘WHA . WOULD YOU LIKE TO | terious Foe; or, Wild Life on the Pampas. BECOME, AND WHY ?”’ Have you chosen your future profession or trade? | If not, think of one you would like to adopt, and write | the name and your reason for makirg the selection upon a POSTAL CARD and mail to this office, Four Splendid Prizes! ist. For the best answer, a prize of $5 will be given. 2d. For the next best, $3. 3d. A fine regulation full-size football, 4th. A Baltimorean printing press, complete with type and outfit. This contest closes April 80, 1897. Address Tip Top Weekly “Profession” Contest, Street & Smith, 232 William St., New York. A NOVEL PRIZE CONTEST. Wanted—A Plot. A famous author once gave an aspiring young writer this advice: ‘‘My son, the true secret in authorship is in having something to write about. Never take up your pen without your plot is formed.” ; Plot making is not the least part of story writing. To encourage those readers who have literary am- bitions, the [re Top Werrxty offers a prize of FIVE DOLLARS IN GOLD for the best plot fora. Frank Merriwell Story sent in on or before March 13, 1897, ; Pe ~ CONDITIONS, 4, The plot must not contain more than five hun- dred words. 2. It must be written on one side of the paper, and addressed plainly to Tre Tor Weexty Prior Conrsst, : Street & Smith, No. 232 William Street, New York. 3) Lhe subject is left to the choice of the competitor, ust be the hero. Fk iS i TIP ‘TOP WEEKLY. | lowing tamous ‘‘ Frank Merrivwell’’ stories: 29 Calks With Cip Cop Readers. The ‘‘Plot’’? contest announced in another ‘column will close next week; You still have seven days in which to compete for one of the four prizes. Read over back numbers of Tip Top Weekly and gain an idea as-to how a plot is formed. It will help you in the arrangement of your own. Several of the best plots seut in will be published. The popular author of the ‘‘ Frank Merriwell’’ stories has in preparation a new and novel series which — is bound to prove of the greatest interest to Tip Top | readers, Frank Merriwell is the hero, and the subject is timely. Tell all your friends, Tip Top Quarterly No. 2 is now on sale. It.is hand- somely bound in colored covers. and contains the fol- 14, Frank Merriwell in Chicago; or, Meshed by Mysteries; 15, Frank. Merriwell in Colorado; or, Trapping the Train Wreckers; 16, Frank Merriwell in Arizona; or, The Mysteries of the Mine; 17, Frank Merriwell in Mexico; or, the Search for the Silver Palace; 18; Frank Merri- well-in New Orleans or, the Queen of Flowers; Frank Merriwell’s Merey; or, The Phantom of the | Everglades; 20, Frank Merriwell’s Friend; or, Muriel the Moonshiner; 21, Frank Merriwell’s Double; or, Fighting for Life and Honor; 22, Frank Merriwell Meshed: or, The Last of the Danites; 23, Frank Merri- well’s Fairy; or, The Hermit of Yellowstone Park; 24, | Frank Merriwell’s Money; or, The Queen of the | **Queer Makers;’’ 25, Frank Merriwell’s Mission; or The | Mystic Valley of the Andes; 26, Frank Merriwell’s Mys- Four hun- dred and sixteen large pages of the best reading matter published; The Tip Top Quarterlies 1 and 2 can be purchased of all newsdealers or direct from this office. Price 50 cents. All healthy American boys are interested in ath- letics. The following account of games held in far- away Japan will prove that out-door sports are not confined to one country: Athletics hold an important but subordinate position in the schoolsof Japan. Once a year there is a gather- ing of all the students in a district to engage in athletic | contests. In those recently seen and described, six | thousand boys and girls from all the schools’ within a distance of twenty-five miles were entered to take part. A cireular racetrack, roomy enough for an army, allowed four different kinds of games to be performed at the same time. ‘Fhe most wonderful spectacle was the dumb-bell ex- ercise. Six thousand boys and girls, massed in ranks | about five hundred deep; six thousand pairs of .arins | rising and falling exactly together; six thousand pairs | of sandaled feet advancing or retreating togetber at | the signals of the masters of gymnastics, directing all | from the tops of little wooden towers; six thousand voices chanting at once, the ‘‘one, two, three’’ of the dumb-bell drill. : The games began at eight o’clock in the morning and ended at five in the evening. Thea at a signal fully six thousand voices pealed out the’national anthem, and conchided if with three cheers for the Emperor and Empress of Japan. The Japanese, instead of shonting when they cheer, chant witha long cry, ‘‘ A-a-a-a-a-a!’’ which sounds like the opening tones of a musical chorus. Correspondence. ‘*Frank,’? Dubuque, lowa.—1. You will find a list of the ‘‘Merriwell’’ stories contained in Tip Top Quar- terly No, 2in this column. 2. No extra charge for mailing. — “el e. A. G. S., Montreal, Canada.—1. Your letter will re- ceive due attention. 2. Thanks for suggestion. 3. Yes. ‘Jarge room. As many as fifty men ‘on a. side have played, the game. popularity. * SR RRL TR RE Ar 195. '4, Basket ball should be played in a gymnasium or. x 5. Yes, it is rapidly increasing in 30 Hunting Big Game. There is always a fascination in hnnfing adventures. When man confronts the tiger, or the lion, or even the savagé boar, he carries his life in his hands. A famous hnnter and traveller bas written for Trp Top WEnKLY a series of narrative describing his most thrilling ex- periences. The first is given below: No. 1.—TOSSED BY AN AFRICAN BUFFALO. One of my most remarkable escapes was from an African buffalo, an animal far more savage and dan- gerous than its American cousin. We had set out, five of us, to search for a herd reported to bein the vicin- ity of our ‘temporary camp. At last we were rewarded by the sight of a couple of buffaloes feeding some distance ahead. Gliding up warily till I got within fifty yards, I gave one of them a bullet close to the region of the heart. This was not sufficient to bring the animal down, and off it lum- bered. Following it up, we were soon once more at close quarters, with the result that a bullet. from my rifle passec through its shoulder. With the obstinacy and tenacity of life characteristic of its kind, how- ever, it did not quietly succumb. I next tried it with one straight for the head. This obviously took effect, tor after it had struggled fopward some distance it lay down, clearly, as I thought, to die. My belief was quite eorrect, only I should not have disturbed its last mo- ments. With the jaunty air of a conqueror, I tucked my rifle under my arm, and proceeded to secure my prize. I had got within six yards, and yet I remained unnoticed, the bead of the buffalo being turned slightly from me and I not making much noise. A step or two more and there was a rustling among some dead ledves. Simultaneously the buffale’s head turned in my direction. A ferocious, blood-curdling grunt instantly apprised me of the brute’s resolution to be revenged. The next moment it was on its feet. Unprepared to fire, and completely taken by surprise, I had no time for thought. Instinctively I turned my back upon my infuriated enemy. As far as my recollections serve me, I had no feeling of fear while I was running away. There was a loud erashing behind me. Then something touched me on the thigh, and I was promptly propelled sky wards, My next recollection was finding myself lying dazed and bruised, with some hazy idea that I had better take care. J raised my head, and lo! there was the brutal avenger standing three yards off, watching his victim, but apparently disclaiming to hoist an inert foe. Strangely enough, I had not the slightest sensation of dread; only the electric thought flashed through my brain, ‘‘if he comes for me, I am a dead man.?? x | Seeing signs of life in my hitherto inanimate body, he blew a terrible blast through his nostrils, and pre- pared to finish me off. Stunned and bruised as I was, I could make no fight for life. I simply dropped my head down among the grass in the vague hope that it might escape being pounded into jelly. Just at that momenta rifle shot rang through the forest, which caused me to raise my head once more. With glad surprise I found the buffalo’s tail presented itself to my delighted contemplation. Instinctively seiz- ing the unexpected momentof grace, I, with a terrible effort, staggered away a tew steps. As I did so, I dis- covered a bad wound in my thigh, and just then there came quite a volley, and [saw my adversary drop dead. I now learned from my companions who had rescued me that I had gone up in the most beautiful style, my hat going off in one direction and my rifle in another. I must have come down on iny side, as I was seridusly bruised along the face and ribs. that I have no recollection of anything after feeling myself touched on the thigh bythe buffalo’s horn, I did not even feel myself fall. ie Ve _ On examining my wound, which did not pain me much, I found that one horn had penetrated nearly six _inehes into my thigh, grazing the, bone, and just reaching the skin several inches above. Page tes The curious thing is. TIP TOP WEEKLY. “BREAKING” A TEXAS PONY. As a preliminary to ‘‘breaking’’ a pony he is caught - with a lariat or lasso, thrown down and half choked while the saddle is being put on him. A bridle and a ‘‘hackamore,’* or rope halter, are placed on his head. Then he is generally blindfolded with a big cowboy ‘‘handkerchief,’? something less than a square yard of tough, thick calico. When all is ready the rope is taken off and the blindfolded pony scrambles to his feet. By the time he has risen the rider is in the saddle. How he gets there nobody knows, for nobody has time to see. As soon.as the pony gains his feet the fun begins. With his head far down between his legs, he pitches his hindquarters straight up ten or fifteen times in a minute, and then, to vary matters, he assumes a per- pendicular attitude, with his head straight up. Suddenly he half circles round to the right, and then back again to the left like lightning, howling and bellowing all the while. Then, if he cannot get the rider off by fair means he tries foul; that is, he rears up and falls back with him. More horsebreakers are killed in this way than in any other, and the only thing to be done, if one wants to live, is to dart out from under the pony before he falls. : Of course, in handling wild horses,‘ the equipments must correspond with the requirements of the work done. The ponderous saddles used seem at first sight absurdly disproportionate to the size of the ponies, but their size and strength are absolutely necessary for the rough treatment which they receive. The Texan calls an ordinary saddle a ‘‘human’’ sad- dle. Whether or not he considers his own saddle an ‘‘inhuman’’ one is another question. The bridles correspond with the saddles in point of strength and size. It is not an uncommon thing to find a bridle bit alone that weighs from two to three pounds. The ‘‘shank,”’ as it is called, is an iron bar some six or eight inches long, running out from each end of the bit, with a ring in fhe end, to which the bridle rein is fastened. ® The long, jingling spurs worn by the stockmen are familiar to most people—by description, at any rate. Sometimes in order to exhibit their proficiency in rid- ing the professional horsebreakers take their feet out of the stirrups altogether, and dig their spurs into the ponies’ shoulders as they ride. The blood sometimes runs down the poor animal’s shoulder and leg right to his hoof, but they do not care. of expertness to be able to ride that way. The stirrups ordinarily used are narrow iron affairs, through which the foot is thrust up to the heel. Often the bottom part consists of an iron half circle turning on a pivot, so arranged that if the rider be thrown the half circle turns over and releases his foot, thus lessen- — ing the danger of his being dragged to death. The pay attaching to this hazardous occupation is by no means 6xcessive. \s For taking all the risks and doing all the work in- volved the professional horsebreaker gets a dollar for each year of the horse’s age. For doing nothing else, but breaking horses he receives the princely remunera- tion of $15 per month and his board, and nobody who — has seen one of these men at work will deny that he earns his money’ ) :0: A TERRIBLE DISAPPOINTMENT. Anxidus Mother—‘‘What in the world has hap- pened?”? Small Son—'*Boo hoo! Me an’ Tommy Traddles was readin’ all about the ‘Child Scout’? in a yaller book, and we got so interested we saved up bought pistols an’ knives an’ things.’? Anxions Mother—‘' Mercy on me!” Small Son—‘‘ An’ to-day we got all ready an’ started — to—to go West an’ fight Indians; but them bad boys in the next block threw stones at us an’ we had to come _ back—boo, hoo, hoo!’ po ee It is considered a test - our ‘money an’ — Sb, ¥ ¥ ook for ‘it. _ feel for it long enough you’ll find it again. Should you find a. ‘runaway horse on your trail, doe TIP TOP WEEKLY. THE LOST COPPER. ‘No, I wasn’t crying neither! Can't a feller rub bis eyes ’Thout the neighborhood a-seemin fit to die o’ their supprise? Course I’m feelin’ bad. ginger cake— We'd counted on a piece o’ Big an’ hot an? thick an’ bully—me an’ Dick an’ Bill an’ Jake. An’ we started fo’ the bakeshop, an’ we hollered as we went, An’ we whooped till on a suddent Bill he swollered o’ the cent. ‘‘Had it in his mouth, [ tell you, where it’d be safe, you see, So when we got to the bakeshop he’d know right where it’d be; Wouldn’t half to hunt through pockets ’mongst the marbles an’ the strings, An’ the buttons an’ slate pencils, an’ the lot o’ other things, But could lay his fingers on it in a secont, mighty quick— We was in a hungry hurry, me an’ Bill an’ Jake an’ Dick. ‘‘T don’t know just how it happened. Bill was hollerin’ ‘Hurrab !’ Same as us an’ mighty happy, till a-suddently I saw Somethin’ awful must a’ struck him, ’cause he got as white as death, An’ he gulped a time or two, an’ grabbed his throat, an’ hilt his breath. But I: never had an idy what it was his foolin’ meant Till he turned an’ said, ‘Boys, I have gone an’ swol- lered o’ the cent!’ ¢ ‘*Well, sir, my blood quit a-runnin’ with a somethin’ like a jerk, An’ my heart for nigh a minute seemed as though it wouldn’t work : Then we all begun a-talkin’ —all at once—an’ , Bill Till he busted out a-snufflin’ an’ a-cryin’ fit to kill. But that didn’t help it any. Then Dick brightened up and said, ‘Mebbe ied. roll out ov him head.’ scolded if we stood him on. his ‘(Well, we tried it. Bill was willin’. He was square Wry about it all, An’ he stood up ended nearly half an hour ag’in the wall. But. a cent come out, as we see, $0 we give it up an’ uit, An? the cake that we had planned for—that was what we didn’t git. So, o’ ar I’m feelin’ solemn, but I wasn’t cryin’. You'd “fool bad if you was fixed’like Bill an’ Dick an’ Jake an’ me!”’ 0 Hints For Young Lyvellete. , _— + iW Don't try to catch the handle-bar with your teeth. Don’t look ‘around to see if the hind wheel is fol- lowing. Don’t be surprised if the front wheel shows a disposi- tion to turn into a yard and lie down for a rest. Always fall on your right shoulder, and do not let e your ear strike the ground till a few geconds later. When you losé a pedal don’t get off and go back to It’s there on the machine still, and if yen close to the curb until he has passed. Then make a _ spurt and seize him by the tail and put on the brake. Never kill a pedestrian when it can be avoided, but when you do kill one dieniotns and say youre sor’ ry: \7 ee en Exchange Bureau. POSTMARK BLANKS—M. H. Schumaun, 32 Wilton Avenue, Norwalk, Conn., will give 10 foreign stamps for every postmark blank sent him, or 20 United States revenue stamps for every three blanks; and will give 20 foreign and United States stamps, or 10 United States revenue stamps for every 25 postmarks. MISCELLANEOUS.—S. K. Crocker, Box 55, Walla Walla, Wash.,.would like to exchange for type or any- thing useful "two electric telephones, -two telegraph batteries and a lot of repair a tools. TELEGRAPH OUTFIT.—G. E. Meyers, Shrewsbury, Pa., has for exchange a ae: new complete Morse telegraph outfit, with battery and book of instructions, for best offer of books. MAGIC LANTERN.—Martin A. Holden, Seymour, Conn., will give 1 ea lantern and six slides, 24 pictures in all, and all in high toned colors, for a pair of clog shoes suitable for stage dancing. Nt ae —Walter -D. Brooks, Paterson, N. has 40 Good News, 1 Glen camera and outfit, 1 Binge London flute, with instruc tions, packed in a neat box, 1 mouth organ, for best offers. Theatrical goods preferred. STAMPS.—Harry F. Alden, 754 N. Street, West Philadelphia, Pa., United States and foreign above 15-cent. BOAT ENGINE.—W Chicago, Ill., has to exchange for useful articles a two- horse power boat engine, musical instruments and electrical goods. MISCEL LANEOUS.— -E. G. Bidlake, 16 Court Street, Albany, N: Y., has to exchange lanterns and brackets, handkerchief vanishes, etc. BICYCLE PARTS.—F. T. Miles, 1123 -E, Washing- ton Street, Syracuse, N. Y., has all parts of a bicycle to exchange for same, and v ‘olumes of boy’s papers for best offer in useful articles. z Thirty-seventh will give 1,000 good stamps for CGolumbians C. Beal, 515 N. Robey Street, ———o Comic Column, RATHER WEARY. Gentleman. to little girl with a toy balloon)—‘‘ Your balloon doesn’t seem to go up very well.’’ Little Girl—‘No, sir. It’s been doin’ up all day, an’ I dess it’s dettin’ tired.’’ 2 CAUTION. Little Boy (in. crowded street car, to pretty little girl) —‘‘T’l] give you my seat if you'll take it.’’ ' Little Girl (whisper ing)—‘I’m ever so much obliged,” but. you shouldn’ t offer your seat until you are ready to get off, ‘cause people will think you’re from the country.”? FEED AND FED. ‘leacher—‘‘ What tense is feed??? / Boy—‘‘ Present tense.’’ ; Teacher—‘‘ What tense is fed?’’ / 7 Boy—‘‘ Past tense.’’ Teacher—‘Correct. Give an example.’? Boy—‘‘ After the man feed the waiter he got fed.’’ , MARRIAGE POPULAR. Little Girl—‘I wonder what’s th’ school tgachers go an’ get matried.’? Little Boy—‘‘I guess it’s ’ecause they likes to boss.’ Observing Father—‘‘Oh, he’s all right He goes to see some girl] or other. Shouldn’ t wonder if he'd an- nounce an engagenient soon.’’ ‘*He hasn’t said'a word about any young lady.’ No; but he’s keeping company with one all the same. His right wrist is full of pin scratches.’ : A CRISIS IN SPAIN. ‘ietn of Spain—‘‘ Moi Gracia! The baby king has the stomach ache!?’ Lord Chamberlain (excitedly ee Call tie secretary: gf the cane Bee ‘s reason all our = ge See peg aap ao re Maca ee ne eae ; TIP TOP: WEEKLY. 7 Applause A ium Offer!! | q ppl $e. ‘A Novel Premium CLit hie ’ by (Letters from Trp Top WEEKLY readers are always acceptable. | 4 ha: nd suggestions will Icom | ; “ites A Pare US Beg ges pe eit he Welcorsel,) |. Your Favorite Papers Placed Within Your Reach! : Danville, Iil., January 27, 1897. | 4 a Dear Sir—I thought I would drop you a few lines to! An easy method by which you can obtain a yearly subscription to the : ae tp ne one 1 think the nese er Fiber EPS Red, White and ‘Blue, Tip, Top Weekly and Good News. By sending 7 Saree BP ores ase NRE» 4 x ge ie AP - through your newsdealer premium coupon No. 1, printed below and ; i mond Dick, Jr., and Red, White and Blue. I thought} . t I would write to tell you how 1 like your books. | fifty cents each week for nine weeks, you will receive by mail for one Yours truly, Julius Mueller. year your choice of any two of the following publications: i Carthage, Mo., January 6, 1897. 4 y Street & Smith, Publishers, New York © ity, N. Y.: Red, White and Blue. Tip Top Weekly. Good News. ee Bs Gentlemen—We wish to say a few words in_ praise | of your libraries which we have been taking. We think | In addition we will give you free of all cost, your choice of any one of a “Frank Merriwell’’ Di 1 Dick, Jr.,’? the hot ' ; a fies anc R + enne ae Bae I aa 100 | the following splendid articles: Novelty Electric Motor; Sim- aa stulf. 6 also take your Ked, lite an ue Library.) jjex Typewriter: S zs ; ; a _ It is ‘true blue.’’? We received your first number of a i = : cet eee vege 1 ‘ Nick Carter in the new colors and mean to take it, also. 07 * “’nesome Wakely Suaranteed good timepiece. 4 ¥ There are nineteen members to our Frank Merriwell | om FE. Club, Yours respectf =e ’ For the benefit of those who desire only one of the three publications qi , 2: He nning, mentioned above, we offer either the Good News, Tip Top Weekly, 4 ? 7 v. lartin. ! or Red, White and Blue, mailed to your address for one year, in- 7 Milwaukee, Wis., January 15, 1897. | cluding your choice of any of the following premiums, for $2.50, pay- a ht Dear Sirs—We have been reading your library ever | able weekly at the rate of fifty cents each week for five weeks. 4 i since it came to town. There are three of us, and we ; : read the Tip Tops every week. It knocks others out. PREMIUNS FOR SINGLE SUBSCRIBERS. a ; ‘We remain yours truly, E. Sippel, , oes E. Alldrigde, } . Wm. Campbell. Autoharp; Zither; Electric Telegraph Outfit; Scroll Saw; Picture iw i: ‘ Z a cot Maker ; Telephone ; Football; Stag Handle Jack Knife; English Tele- q Fi a _Provincetown, Mass., January 22, 1897. scope; Symphony; Harmonica; Zobo Cornetto; Student’s Fountain Ect x Fi Street & Smith, Publishers, New, York ; : | Pen; Pocket Lantern with three color lenses; Fisherman’s Outfit; : Dear Sirs—I now take the pleasure of writing you | + , Bae, B _ enka: rs ; iB a few lines concerning your famous library (Tip Top), | *°% °&ti Focket Gash: Register. # I take quite a number of books, and the other day a § i friend of mine inquired of me which I liked best. STREET & SMITH, 232 Willlam St. N. Y. 4 a After meditating awhile I came to the conclusion that ¢ i the Tip Top was the best. I hope that it will reap the : : r harvest which it deserves, I remain, ; (Send through your newsdeuler.) ti Truly yours, F. E. Perry. a Ss Fayetteville, N. C., January 25, 1897. Coupon No. ie. e-. o Messrs. Street & Smith—Please allow me to ex- y te ~ 0 _ press my pleasure in praising the Top Top Library, Enclosed find fifty cents in part payment for one 4 “through its interesting columns. I have read every |} year’s subscription for Fe number from No. 1 down to the present numiber, and | oe eee it is the very best library published. & ee MULDOON’S WRESTLING. — It is fully illustrated, and will be sent Coupon INO. Se . See ie postpaid on receipt of ten cents. Address ‘ “ MANUAL LIBRARY, 25 Rose street, New! York. Enclosed find fifty cents in pee payment for one a year’s emi iption for ¢ ch a et & F ~ x i y a Sag =. HOW TO DO BUSINESS rig Chiad ile Peed We a : ; 4 Also premium (write name of premium desired.) ONT Nf ie This book isa guide to success in life, embracing Principles of * ay Business, Choice of Pursuit, Buying and Selling, General WOVEN FB a, 2a dk Athy ens sidedemetteparede deat ys ashes .odOPOis Neaese, pisces eeu Raia ae ira : ~ ment, Mechanical Trades, Manufacturing, Bookkeeping, Causes Ss mae : ad Pa of Success and Failure, Business Maxims and Forms, ete, It also ' : ; ae - gontains an appendix of complete business forms and a dictionary | | (NAME) eee ; ot commercial terms. No» young man should be without. this 7 eg waneable book. It gives complete information oooh trades, MY . professions and a eeee in which any young man is interested. j Price ten cents. Addres > (ADDRESS) : MANUAL “LIBRARY , 25 Rose street, New York, ws ; ‘ the {LEADERS 5 Cip Cop Weekly | Species, prgers fun, college, travel and ad- venture, wi Red, White and Blue ote 5 Cents. re Army and Navy war '}/| stories of bravery of boy heroes who wore the | blue and the gray. - Diamond Dick, Jr. 5 Cents. Contains stories of the most fascinating Western romance. Dew Dick Carter Weekly 5 Cents. The best detective stories will be found in this publication. Che Old Log Cabin 10 Cents. The celebrated Gen- tleman Joe’s stories are published in this weekly. These publications are 32 pages, and bound in handsome illuminated covers. LATEST ISSUES OF THE TIP TOP WREKLY. LL LLU Lo LLU Oo ALLS 42—Frank Merriwell’s Victory; or, The Win- ning Oar. By the author of ‘‘Frank Merriwell.” 43—Frank Merriwell’s Crimson. By the author of Merriwell.” 44—Frank Merriwell’s Game; or, Snaring the Sharper. By the author .of ‘Frank Merriwell.”’ 45—Frank Merriwell’s Great Run; o ing the Tigers. By the “Frank Merriwell.’ Finish; or, Blue Against ‘*Frank r, Trounc- STREET & SMITH, For Sale by all Newsdealers. author of 46—Frank Merriwell’s Even Up; or, Squaring the Score. By the author of “Frank Merriwell.” 47—Frank Merriwell’s Queen; or, Biow for Blow. By the author of ‘‘Frank Mer- riwell.”’ 48—Frank Merriwell’s Find; or, the Train. By the author of Merriwell.”’ 49—Frank Merriwell’s Racer; or, Birds of a Feather. By the author of ‘Frank Merriwell.” The Waif of ‘*Frank PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK. Every Saturday.