Tip JOPWEEKLY. AN IDEAL PUBLICATION FOR THE AMERICAN YOUTH ” Issued Weekly—By Subscription $2.50 per year. Entered as Second Class Matter at the N. Y. Post Office by STREET & SMITH, No. 99. NEW YORK, FEBRUARY 19, 1898. Price 5 Cents. OR THE FAIR RIV, SOE, FARDALE WITHOUT A WORD FRANK LEAPED UP AND PLUNGED OVERBOARD. ——— \ “AN IDEAL PUBLICATION FOR THE AMERICAN YOUTH.” Tie Tor WEEKLY. Issucd Weekiy—By Subseriptron $2.50 per year. Entered as Second Class \iatter at the N, Y. Post Office, SrReRT & Smivn, 238 William St, N. VY. Entered Aceording to Act of Congress, in the Year 1898, in the Ofice of the Librarian of Congress, Washington, D. C. No. 99 * NEW YORK, qa 5, 1808. * Price Five Cents. Caos of This Number. Page. FRANK MERRIWELL’S CHOICE; or, The Pair Rivals of Fardale - Se ee ees ee INVENTION OFQIHE TYPEWRITER - s 4 ‘ ‘. i 29, ONE HUNDREDTH ISSUE : is : : 5 s i z e : : 29. TALKS WITH TIP TOP READERS ‘ * : . S ; Ss “ 29. A MESSAGE THROUGH THE AIR - - = - = a s rs “ 2 2 80. APPLAUSE - - - - - - - - - - we si 3 = 31, rank Merriwell’s Choice THE FAIR RIVALS OF FARDALE. By the Author of ‘‘FRANK MERRIWELL.”’ CHAPTER I. ment ana an eye for the picturesque. To her there had ever been something in- tensely fascinating and picturesque about The Cove near Fardale Academy was The Harbor and inhabitants thereof, not a good harbor for vessels. Fardale nearly all of whom fished more or less. village lay somewhat more than a mile It was a pleasure to Inza to visit The from the academy. Fardale harbor was Harbor, watch the boats and vessels and half amile to the south of the village, the unkempt but—at a distance—attrac- which was not located on the coast direct- tive fishermen. ly, but lay back from the water. Fardale “Oh, if I could paint!’’ she exclaimed was not much of a seaport, the railroad 4 hundred times. ‘‘What pictures could securing the heaviest part of the freight- be made of this place and the people!” ing. , As she could not paint, she resolved to ‘he Harbor’? was the name given the have some pictures of the place anyway, small collection of wretched houses in and so she purchased a small camera. As the vicinity of the two wharves. The soon as.she secured the camera, she was families living at The Harbor were of eager to ‘“‘snap’’ anything and every- the poor class, and it was said that the thing at The Harbor. most of them were none too honest. It was a pleasant afternoon when Inza, Inza Burrage ‘had an artistic tempera~ accompanied by May Blossom, > started ON THE ROAD TO THE HARBOR. path ta eee 2 out for The Harbor, taking the little camera along. They chatted away en- thusiastically as young girls will. Their talk was mainly of plates, and lens, and films, and developing,. and such snatters as interest amateur photographers, for May was developing no small amount of enthusiasm on the subject, although the real knowledge of both concerning the art was rather litnited. At the first point where they obtain a good view of The Harbor they paused and Inza went into raptures over could the scene. Sheer te 2b cried. . : ‘“Yes,’’? nodded May, ‘‘it is pretty, but it would be ‘prettier if it were not for that little huddle of shanties down there.’’ **Q, goodness!’ exclaimed Inza, in fine disdain. ‘‘Why, that is what finishes out the picture! That is the very thing that gives it its real value.”’ May looked doubtful. ‘It may be,’’ she admitted, ‘but it seems like a blot to me. I Jove nature, but——”’ “Sodo I. If those huts were fine houses it would ruin the pic- ture, but those shanties are so, pictur- esque! And the fishermen are _-such jaunty; dirty, careless fellows! ~ Look at that old vessel coming into the harbor now. Let’s hurry down where I can get a picture of her as she swings into the wharf, for she is not going to anchor out in the harbor.’’ / Down the road ran the two girls, laughing merrily.. The afternoon was bright and sunny, and their hearts wére full of sunshine} too. “If Elsie were here she would just perfectly lovely !’’, she down there d this!’ panted Inza. ‘‘She was always so enjoy much interested in The Harbor and the old vessels that used to come in here. I / suppose it was because her father was a sea captain. ~She was. quite a sailor her- self. 0% FRANK MERRIWELL’S CHOICE. ‘‘Hisie?’? said May. ‘‘You mean Elsie Bellwood ?”’ ‘““Of course. You remember her? You know her father’s vessel was wecked over in the Cove on Tiger Tooth Ledge, and the academy boys~formed a life-saving crew, headed by Frank Merriwell, and saved Elsie and all the salors.”’ * **Oh, yes, I remember all about it,’ said May, as they slacked up a liftle from their running; ‘‘but I thought you didn’t like Elsie.” “Thought I didn’t like her?’ cried Inza, astonished. ‘‘Whv, I took her home, and she stayed with me while she was in Fardale.”’ “T know that, but——”’ “But what?” May was confused, and she seemed to be troubled to find words to express her- self. After a time she staimmered: ‘“Why, she—she was so—so friendly with—with Frank, you know. All the girls said she was trying to cut you out.”’ Inza’s eyes flashed, but she tossed her head and laughed. “Ts that it? -And you thought I did not like her because she was friendly with Frank Merriwell? My goodness! What do you take me for?—excuse the slang! Couldn’t help it, you know.’’ ““Why,’’ said May, ‘‘aren’t you jealous of a girl who tries to cut you out? I think I would be.”’ “Well, there is a difference in girls, ’? said Inza, somewhat slowly. ‘‘Besides that, Elsie did not try to cut me out.”’ ‘She didn’t?’ : NOS.” ‘“‘T heard so.”’ “Don’t doubt it.” ‘“But Frank—Frank, he——”’ ‘‘He was smitten by Elsie’s sweet face, bine eyes and golden hair,’? acknowl- edged Inza. 7 Motto; or, The Young Life Savers.’’ * See Tip Top Weekly No. 12, ‘‘Frank Merriwell’s * A a4 a Perens ¥ # YES Set PBR nies RE ARS aoeemt en | ve . ‘What about Elsie—wasn’t she smit- ten on Frank ?”’ ““Ves, but she wasn’t to blame for that! I think a girl would be silly who -didn’t get stuck on him! So there! She didn’t try to cut me out, Instead of that, she tried to keep away from him. Oh, Elsie has the most honest little heart! One night she told me how much she liked Frank, and how mean she felt. But she said she could not help it, and she cried over it half the night. I told her to get him—if she could. I told her the field was open, and { would withdraw if she won him.”’ : “My!? cried May. ~‘That’s not much like you! I shouldn’t think such a thing of you!” Inza laughed shortly. ‘‘Just because I am quick-tempered sometimes, it seems to you that I must have felt like tearing her to pieces? Well,’’ slowly, ‘‘I did feel alittle that way at first, but when I saw how honest she was and how bad ‘she really felt about it, my heart softened, and I threw the field open to her. I did not mean to let her win him without a strugele, but I resolved to keep still and let her have him if she got him.’’ **But she couldn’t get him!?’ **T don’t know about that. She didn’t Lee ue “SOh, Js thatare> “Yes. She hurried her father away from Fardale as soon as possible, and she told me she’d never see him again.’’ 4 ‘‘Well, she must be different from most girls!” She is.7? . “And she never wrote to him—never tried to have anything to do with him afterward ??? ‘“Never till they met again by accident down in Florida. He saved her from a frightful danger down there, and thev fell awfully in love with each other. He FRANK MERRIWELL’S CHOICE. 3 made her promise to write, and she did so a few times.”’ ‘Oh, I thought she would!’ ‘cried ‘*T didn’t think she could keep her promise to you!’ “‘But she wrote and tcld .me all about it,’ smiled Inza, with equal triumph. She did??? {¢Vas, ”? ‘And you answered her letter? Graci- ous! What did you say to her???’ “Told her togo in and win—if she could! I tell you, I don’t want a fellow that thinks more of another girl than he does of ine. If I had such a fellow, and I suspected it, I’d fire him over quick.”’ May, triumphantly. ‘‘And she didn’t succeed in winning “him from you—that is plain enough.’ ‘““Well,’’? said Inza, doubtfully, ‘‘that may seein plain enough to you, but there is nothing certain about it. Don’t ever breathe a word of what I tell you! I’m afraid Frank thinks more of her to-day than he does of me.’?’ ““Gracious goodness !’? May was astonished. She looked at Inzato see if the girl was joking, but Inza was perfectly in earnest. “When Iam with Frank,’ said Inza, “‘he seems to forget Elsie. But I am not deceived. When he is with her, I am forgotten. Now, what I would like is to settle which of us has the stronger pull with him. More slang! Got so it slips out when I don’t notice.”’ “The stronger pull??? came from May. ‘‘How would you put it to test?’ “Tf Kilsie were here in Fardale now, we’d see who could win him. I’d make her do her best to get him away from me, If she succeeded, all right; if I succeeded, I’d make her promise never to have any- thing to do with him again in any way —even to speak to\him, if she could help it ‘And what if she won?’ gasped May. ‘*Would you—would you——”’ : ' ¢ ¢ 4 FRANK MERKIWELL’S CHOICE. ‘‘Make a similar pledge—yes! And I’d keep it, too!”’ May looked at Inza in wonder. ‘“But you would hate her?’? ‘Not in the least! _I wouldn’t*permit myself to hate her.’’ ‘‘Well, you would hate Frank Merri- well?” ‘‘Never! Sometimes I may seem angry with him, and all that, but I do not for- get that he has saved my life more than once. I do not forget how he threw himself in front of a mad dog to protect me, and fought the beast bare-handed till Farmer Snodd shot the rabid creature!’’ “‘Oh,; I remember that!’ cried May. “(T saw it! It was terrible!’’ “It was a most heroic act! He just wrapped his coat round his arm, and when the jaws of the dog set into that coat, the creature’s teeth did mot reach his flesh. Then he held the frothing, snarling creature by the throat till John Snodd came up and fired both barrels of his gun into the dog.’ * ‘ “‘And I fainted when I saw Frank fall down with the dead dog on top of Wim!” cried May. ‘‘How everybody praised him for that!’ ‘““Then you remember how he saved me from death in front of the express at the crossing in Fardale?”’ (Ves, 9 ‘“That was not all, either. He rescued me from ruffians in New Orleans, and saved the lives of myself and my father in London, whena lighted bomb was thrown right into the room where we were. He picked it up, all smoking as it was, and flung it out of the window again. It exploded before it struck in the sizechs “May gave a little scream. ‘‘Oh, he doesn’t fear anything!’ came proudly from Inza. ‘‘And he helped me escape from a horrid odious old English- « *See Tip Top Weekly No. 1, ‘‘Frank Merriwell; or, First Days at Fardale.”’ man that my father wanted me to marry. Think I could hate him ? Oh, no! No matter what happened to separate us, I should not hate Frank Merriwell.”’ ‘They came to the first of the fisher- men’s huts. May happened to turn about and look back. A gasp of surprise and fear escaped her lips, and she clutched Inza’s arim.”’ We are followed!’’ she exclaimed. ‘‘Rollowed ?’? said Inza, quickly. “By whom ?”? She looked back and saw two persons coming swiftly down the road, as if seek- ing to overtake them. ‘‘One is Rupert Reynolds!’’ said May, tremblingly. ‘‘I would know him any- where! Will he never let me alone!’ ‘‘And the other is Ed ‘Clair,’’ said Inza. ‘‘I used to know him when we lived here, but he was a young man then, and I was a small girl. They call him Elegant Ed, and say he is a gambler. He and Reynolds hitch up well to- gether!’ “Oh, can’t we get away from them somewhere! ‘They frighten me so! And this is such a place! Now that we are out of the village, they will try to force their attentions upon us.’’ “Tet them try it!’ flashed Inza, ‘‘I am not afraid of them, and they will get Ynto trouble if they do not let us alone!’ CHAPTER II. THE GIRL ON THE VESSEL. The girls were panting when they reached the old wharf toward which the vessel! was heading. May looked around and then, pressing her trembling hands together cried. “There is no place to hide here!’? ‘*Hide!’’ came scornfully from the lips of the dark-haired girl. ‘‘Why should we hide? Think I would hide from. those fellows? Not much!’? ‘What can we do?”’ Peal A ion neg Reeby HT eae ede Min eee mie *‘Mind our own business and pay no at- tention to them if they come here.’ FRANK MERRIWELL’S CHOICE. 5 trouble us, I know of some chaps who will just whip the life out of then. We'll ‘They are coming !?? ‘Let ’em come. If they bother us we’ll call on some of the fishermen.”’ ‘Oh, but all the fishermen look like ruffians!”’ ‘Just th same, I don’t believe they would keep still and let those fellows trouble us.’? May was not reassured, but she sat down on. some lumber, while Inza_ pre- pared to take a picture of the schooner as she swung in to the wharf, Down came one of the vessel’s sails with a rattling of trucks, and Inza uttered a cry of disappointment. ‘That's real mean!’? she said. ‘*Why, I was just going to snap her. I wanted to take her with all her sails up.”’ The sailors could be seen at work on the deck of the schooner. A man witha white beard was directing their, move- ments. “Hurry up, Inz,’’ said May, ‘‘and you will be able to get a picture before any more sails come down.”’ ‘Ves, hurry up, my. dear,’’? said a laughing, musical voice. ‘‘She will get too near if you don’t.”’ Both girls looked up. Peering over the pile of lumbex was Elegant Ed, the dandy of Fardale. He lifted his hat with a show of great politeness. Just then Rupert Reynolds appeared by Ed’s side, and he also smiled and_ lifted his hat, a straw affair with adashy rib- bon around it for a band. ‘“Ah, there!’ he chirped, in a manner | that was extremely offensive. ‘‘Stay there!’? Inza instant] flung back. «@° Elegant Ed laughed, scowled a bit, saying: **Oh, my! isn’t she pert!”’ **Qh, Inza!”? said May, rising, ‘‘let’s while Rupert go away!’ “Keep still,’? said Inza. ‘‘If they only have to tell Frank Merriwell.’ Reynolds gave an exclaination of scorn. “*Oh, you?ll find notso many! He doesn’t run the uni- verse! He has his gang with him, we know, but there are a few fellows in Far- dale viliage who would like to get at him and his gang. All we want is a good op- portunity. We are just looking for it, and——”’ Frank Merriwell is Elegant Ed cut Rupert short, saying something to him in a low tone, and then turned to the girls: ‘‘We are not here to trouble you, young ladies, but to protect you.”’ ““We don’t need your sit!’’ flung back Inza. protection, **Oh, you don’t know about that!’’ said Clair, quickly. ‘‘The Harbor is nota safe place for girls like you to visit alone.’’ “Pudge!” It -48 true,’ protested: Id/." 1 hese fishermen are pretty rude at times, and there is no telling what notion: they might get into their heads.”’ “That’s right,’? nodded Reynolds, hastening to support the statement of his compatmion, with the view of alarming the girls, if possible. ‘‘We saw you com- ing down this way, and Mr. Clair said it was our duty to come along and look out for you, so we——”’ Elegant Ed cut him short again. ‘I was surprised to see you coming here,’’ he said, in his polished way, ‘his voice being soft and musical. ‘‘Mr. Rey- nolds tells me you come here often, and come alone. You do. not realize your- danger. Why, a man disappeared here this’ last spring, and—well, he disappeared, — that’s all.”’ - ‘‘He was murdered,’’ put in Reynolds, before the dandy of Fardale could check him. ae ; 6 ; FRANK MERRIWELL’S CHOICE, May screamed a little, but Inza simply said: “‘T know all about that. The man was drunk and got into a quarrel. You can- not frighten us into accepting you as pro- tectors by telling us that story. So you may as well go right away and let us alone. If we need protection, I am sure we would prefer the protection of these fishermen.’ Then she turned to May, saying firmly: ‘Don’t speak to them—don’t look at them. We will not have anything to do with them. If they trouble us, we’ll tell soine of those sailors wheni the vessel comes in: here to the wharf; and. the sail- ors will throw them overboard.”’ May’s fears were not quieted, but she turned from the fellows wlio had followed them, and tried to give them no further attention. Clair and Reynolds held a hurried con- sultation in low spoken words, and then caine round the pile of lumber. They came near the girls, but pretended to be greatly interested in the approaching ves- sel. Clair was heard to say: “It?s rather hard to be misunderstood in such a manner, but we will stay here and look out for them. ‘They are young, and some of these low ruffians may bother them. All we can dois keep watch of them.”? Inza’s lip curled, and she flashed a de- risive look toward the backs of the gam- bler and his young companion. ‘“That’s a bluff, May, to make us think we really are in dafrger,’’ she said. “They think we will relent when we see how ready they are to protect us, even though we have given them the throw down.’? ‘‘T am sorry we came to-day!’ ‘mur- mured May. ; / “Tm not! I am going to take a picture of that vessel now. It is inv last chance. Then we will go around The Harbor and get some more pictures,” ‘They will follow us.’ ‘‘Then I shall speak to soine of the fishermen, and I rather think they will be taken care of.”’ Inza was on the point of taking a pic- ture, having focused her camera, when a girl appeared on deck and came for- ward. ' ‘“Jove!’’ exclaimed Clair. ‘‘’[here isa little peach on the vessel !”’ WRhat sc. sieht Reynolds. “‘She’s just my kind—pink cheeks and golden hair. Bet she has blue eyes! She is a peach!’ Inza looked up and glanced toward the vessel. ‘The girl had reached the forward starboard rail and was gazing toward the wharf. “My!? cried -Inza Burrage, nearly dropping her camera. “What is it?’ asked May. “Took! came. excitedly from the dark-haired girl. ‘‘That girl—there on the vessel !’’ . (Veg. “*K now her??? CONG, 2 ‘‘T do! Iam sure I can’t be mistaken! It is—as true as I live, it is Elsie Bell- wood !”” agreed CHAPTER III. FROM PERIL TO PERIL. . ‘*Rilsie Bellwood !”? May gasped the name, and then she clapped her hands and began to dance. “Itis!it is! she cried. right, Inza!??” In another moment Inza had put down the camera, all thought of gettimg a pic- ture having vanished, and was excitedly fluttering her handkerchief. ‘“‘Rlsie!? she cried, her voice ringing over the water. ‘‘Elsie! Elsie!’’ Then the girl on the schooner suddenly erew excited. ‘*Yots are. She tore off her hat and’ Waes fluttered it above her golden head, danc- ing and laughing. ‘It is Elsie—it is!’? Game from Inza. **She recognizes me! See how glad she That old man with the white beard is Captain Bellwood!. That is his vessel! To think of her coming here just as we were speaking of her! It’s just perfectly lovely!’ Inza’s delight was not assuined. She was overjoyed to see Elsie again. And Elsie was so delighted that she leaned away out over the rail to call: “Ts that you, Inza Burrage? Can it be you?’ ‘‘Ves, Elsie—yes!’’ Inza cried in turn. “Oh, I’m so glad to see” you! Oh, Elsie Bellwood !?’ She felt like cheering like a boy. She even started to cheer, but the cheer was suddenly stopped by a cry of horror. For, leaning over the rail, Elsie Bell- wood lost her balance, and, with a scream, fell overboard. She struck the water with a splash and disappeared be- low the surface. | May Blossom shrieked and covered her face with her hands, while Inza seemed stricken dumb. ‘“VYe gods!’? burst from Reynolds. ‘“The little peach is overboard! Where’s there a boat, Clair? Wemust pull her out!” But Ed Clair did not wait for a_ boat. He flung aside his silk hat and cane, he tore off his coat, and then he leaped head- long from the wharf, diving into -the water. Ed came up quickly and swam off to- ward the vessel, upon the deck of which the sailors were running about, shouting hoarsely to one another. Clair was a fine swimmer, and, despite his clothing, he made good progress through the water: He was watching for the golden head of the unfortunate girl to appear above the water. It caine up, aiid Elsie cried out chok- FRANK MERRIWELL’S CHOICE. 4 7 gly, then it disappeared. But Ed Clair Seat toward the spot where he had seen i the girl’s head for a moment, and he swam with all his strength. When Elsie rose to the surface the sec- ond time, the dandy was near, and he made a lunge for her, caught hold of her, held her up, beginning to talk to her in a reassuring manner. & ‘Don’t struggle, = 99 he said. ‘‘Be oo eit and I will save you. ‘They are lettin: oO og down aboat from the schooner. “The 1€ will have tment’? On the wharf Rupert Reynolds. was grinding his teeth and cursing. “Took at the fellow!’ he muttered, savagely. ‘‘He thought to jumpin there and save her that way, and it’s ten to one she will be all broken up over him. I remember something about Elsie Beil- wood. All the boys were crazy over her. She is the prettiest girl I ever saw, but she didn’t even look at me when she was here before. I suppose it was because I didn’t form one of the gang that saved her from the wreck. And here I have lost a splendid chance to make myself solid with her! TI lost it because I did not want to spoil my clothes; but Clair didn’t seem to care a hang about his clothes. He’s the most reckless fellow I ever saw, anyway. Doesn’t seem to care foranything. I don’t believe he is afraid of Frank Merriwell, even !??)\ Reynolds inuttered the final words as if it were the very acme of courage not to fear Merriwell. = In silence Inza had waiceea, Hd. Clair swim out and get hold of the girl in the water. May wason her knees, her clasped hands and moving lips telling ‘that she us out of the water in a mo- was praying. Clair talked to Elsie, holding her off and keeping. her from clutching him. He saw the boat let down from the vessel and manned, he saw it come toward 8 ‘ FRANK MERRIWELL’S CHOICE. them, and he was well satisfied with him- self and what he had done. ‘“This Merriwell is not the only pebble on the beach,’’ he thought. ‘‘There are others who can do a thing or two.”’ As the boat came near, he cried: ‘*Steady, my hearties—don’t down! Never mind me; take the young lady ont first. I can tight. I swim around with my clothes on almost every day. It’s a little way I have. Can’t bother to take off my togs when I want a bath.’? ‘*Well, you’re a cool one!’’ said one of the sailors, as Elsie was lidted into the boat. * ; ‘‘l’m a trifle cooler than I was before I jumped in,’’ said Clair. ‘‘Going to take me into the boat? All right; but you needn’t bother. Ican take care of myself.’ : “Lift him in,’? directed the shaking voice of old Captain Bellwood, who was holding his child in his arms. ‘‘Lift~ in the young man who saved the life of my darling! I want to see him—I want to thank him!’ ‘““Never mind the thanks, cap’n,’’ laughed Ed, as he was dragged dripping into the boat. ‘‘I am more than repaid by the pleasure of having rescued such a charming young lady as your daughter seems to be.’’ Tun wus swim ashore all There was a breath too much. of flat- tery in his words and manner, but the old captain was ready enough to over- look that. ‘Vou shall come aboard, sir,’ he said, ‘“‘where you shall dry your clothes and have a nip of something to warm you.’? “Ah!” exclaimed Ed; ‘“‘if you have some real good stuff, skipper, I shan’t mind taking a nip. ‘The water was cold, to be Sure. ? So he was taken on board the schooner, and Elsie Bellwood, rescued from one danger, had fallen into still greater peril. CHAPTER IV. GIRL ERIENDS MEET. ‘Captain Bellwood,’’ said Elegant Ed, as he sat in the cabin ‘there is nothing like a little adventure now and then to break the monotony of life. I was delighted with the opportu- nity to rescue from the water a beautiful girl like your daughter, for certainly she is one of the most beautiful girls it has ever been my fortune to see.”’ ‘‘And she is as good as she is beauti- ful,’ declared the old skipper, his eyes of the schooner, glowing. ‘‘She isthe light of my old age! If harm should come to her, it would kill me!” He placed glasses on the table and took a black bottle from a locker. “This is Jamaica Rum,’’ he said. “Here, Jim,’’ calling the cabin boy, ‘*bring some hot water from the galley.” “Yes, sir,’’ said Jim, skurrying away and quickly returning with hot water. ‘*A hot toddy is what you need, young man,’’ declared the captain, as he mixed the drink. ‘‘It will warm you.’ The schooner was making fast to the wharf, and Rupert Reynolds came on board, bringing Clair’s hat, coat and cane. He came right down into the cap- tain’s cabin, without waiting for an in- vitation. “Friend of mine, Mr. Reynolds, Cap- tain Bellwood,’’ said the datidy of Far- dale. ‘‘Perhaps he would like a nip.’’ ‘(Kh ??? said the captain. ‘‘He’s rather young. I don’t believe in giving liquor to youngsters.’? “Oh, he’s old enough,’’ langhed Clair. “It’s all right, captain; give him some- thing, and I will be responsible.’’ ‘‘Well, if you say it’s all right,’’ said Justin Bellwood, reluctantly, ‘‘I’ll give him a drink, but it doesn’t seem right.’? “The old fool!’’ muttered Rupert, be- hind the skipper’s back. Reynolds was not ina very good hu- Abi % xe o * ee Eee elie nn caoare ee © ‘2 FRANK MERRIWELL’S CHOICE. 9 mor, having lost an opportunity to do something that would make him seem heroic. He was sour toward Clair, but dared not show it. Elegant Ed was ina jolly mood. He joked ard told stories till he had the skipper laughing heartily, and Captain Bellwood thought the young man who had rescued his daughter was a_ very fine fellow. Rupert kept still and watched Clair sullenly and jealously. Hecould see that Ed was doing his best to get into the good graces of Captain Bellwood, and was succeeding finely. After a time Reynolds became tired of it and urged Clair to go back to town; but Ed was not ready to go then, and told him so. Then Rupert said he was going, and left. ce 3 That fellow is too slick! muttered Reynolds, as he went ashore. ‘‘He has the old skipper on the string, and he’ll make Captain Bellwood think him the finest fellow in the world. He is working to cut some ice with the captain’s daugh- ter, and it’s ten to one he succeeds. ”’ Considering himself a ‘‘imasher,’’ it in- censed Rupert to have his companion get ahead of him in such a manner. As Ru- pert had said, Elsie was ‘‘just his kind,’’ for he admired any pretty girl with blue eyes and golden hair. Inzaand May were waiting on the wharf to see Elsie. When Rupert came off, they longed to ask him about her, but would not do so. They saw him leave the wharf and take the road. toward the village. ‘“‘lam going on board that vessel, May,’? declared Inza, for the tenth time. ‘Come along. Whatis the use to be afraid. It’s Captain Bellwood’s vessel, and those sailors won’t harm us,”’ One of the men heard’ her words, and said: ‘‘Lord love ye, miss, of course we wouldn’t hurt ye! Come right on board. Il] help ye.’? May’s timidity was overcome at last, and the girls were assisted on board the The sailor showed them the captain’s cabin, Elsie had a room that opened into that cabin. Rather timidly the girls descended the schooner. explaining that stairs, but the old skipper welcomed them and invited them in. ‘‘Don’t you know me, Captain Bell- wood ?’? asked Inza. ‘“Why, seems to me you do. look na- tural,’’ said the old salt; ‘‘but I don’t seem to locate ye.’’ “Tam the girl Elsie stopped with in Fardale that time when your vessel was wrecked on Tiger Tooth. .I am Inza Burrage.’ ‘Well, well, well!’ cried the old man, bluffly, as he caught hold of her hands. ‘It’s powerful glad I am to clap my peepers on ye ag’in! You’re handsomer than ever. Elsie’s always talking about ye. She thinks more of you than any other gal in the whole world. Won’t she be pleased! Well, well, well!” ** How is she??? ‘fAll right, thanks to this young gen- tleman. She’s been changing her clothes, but she ought to have them changed by this time, and——”’ The door to Elsie’s room opened, and Elsie herself came out with a rush anda glad cry. “The two girls flew into each other’s arms, embraced, kissed, laughed and cried, as girls will. Elegant Ed smiled and stroked his light mustache as he looked on, while Captain Bellwood’s eyes sparkled with the pleasure he felt. May and Elsie took a turn at greeting each-other effusively, and the girls jab- bered away excitedly, all three of them trying to talk at once. “‘Bless their innocent young hearts!” said Captain Bellwood. “They’re all peaches, thought Ed 10 Clair; ‘‘but there is something about the old fellow’s daughter that makes me like her better than the others. Iam going to capture the little daisy, too! And so, while he was getting on the best of terms with Captain Bellwood, he was plotting in his heart to do the old man the greatest injury possible. Elsie and Inza had so many things to talk about that they couid not seem to think of much of anything at all. Over and over they repeated that they had so many things to say, and still they did not seem to say any of them. ; At last, however, Inza cried ‘Oh, Elsie—you can’t guess who is in Fardale—I know you can’t!’ ‘Then I shall not try,’’ said the cap- tain’s daughter, laughing. She had a sweet face, and her laughter was like the softest ripple of music. Her eyes were those of an innocent child. | Clair noted all those things, and he thought how easy it would be to make her believe he was wildly infatuated with her. ; ‘She will drop into the net easily,’’ he thought. “Tust guess once, So Elsie guessed. ‘Wrong!’ eried Inza, laughing. ‘‘I know you couldn’t guess, and still it is soimeone you know very well—someone you think a great deal of.’? \_ ‘“Tel] me!’’-urged Elsie, eagerly, tell me, Inza. Who is it?’’ ‘Frank Merriwell!’’ Elsie gave alittle smothered cry, her bosom rose and fell with excitement, and her face flushed with delight. The look in her eyes was one of untold surprise and pleasure, “Frank 1)» ‘she said, softly; ‘‘Brank Merriwell ?”’ ‘‘Ves,’? nodded Inza, just the least trace of ashadgw coming to her heart as she noted the intensity of Elsie’s de- light. ‘‘He is here with some of the old ” urged Inza. ‘ “do FRANK MERRIWELL’S CHOICE. academy boys and some college fellows from Yale. They are camping not far from the academy.”’ Ed Clair was noting everything, and his teeth came together witha click as he beheld Elsie’s show of pleasure on learning of Frank Merriwell’s presence in Fardale. ‘So she, too, knows that fellow!’ thought the dandy. ‘‘Well, this Merri- well seems to have the inside track, but he may be outwitted. He can’t hold both of those girls.’’ That thought filled him with satis- faction, and it was immediately followed by another: ‘‘Perhaps the appearance of this girl with the golden= hair may be a good thing. If it’s worked right, the two girls might be played against him so that he would lose his hold:on both of them.”’ His brain teemed with plots to bring about that result. After a little Elsie’s face clouded, all the look of joy seeming to go out of it. In her frank way, she said: “T don’t know that Frank will be pleased to see me, Inza.”’ Inza started, showing astonishment. “Why, how is that?’’ she asked. ‘“He—he did not answer thie last let- ters I wrote him,’’ déclared Elsie. “Then he never received them!’ came quickly from Inza. ‘‘Iam sufe of that. Had he received them, he would have answered them.”’ “Vou may be right,’’ said Elsie, with an air of some relief. 3ut it was plain her childish, innocent heart was full of doubts. “Give me the opportunity, and I will convince her that Frank Merriwell doesn’t care a snap for her,’’ thought Ed Clair. ‘*She will be easy..” ‘ sangre ace feiss pommegs a s CHAPTER V. GREATEST SURPRISE OF ALL, Elegant Ed did not let any grass grow for he felt that he must move quickly if he got ahead of Frank under his feet, Merriwell. ‘ One thing he feared was that Inza would say something against him to Elsie, and so to prevent that as far as possible he did not give her any imine- diate opportunity. Inza told Elsie there was to be a show in Fardale that evening and. urged her to come over and go with her. May could not go. She did not tell Elsie that she had been invited to go with Frank, as she wished to hold that back as a_ sur- prise. She felt that Frank would be de- lighted to take them both. She knew him well enough to feel perfectly safe in inviting Elsie. . Elsie promised to come over to the vil- lage and attend the show. She set the time when she would come over. Then Ciair offered to send for a team to take Inza and May back to the village, but they declined the favor. ,;He had shown such promptness in resctiing Elsie that they were somewhat softened toward him, but still there was nothing like a feeling of friendship toward him. Inza resolved that at another time she would tell Elsie just what kind ofa fel- low Elegant Ed was, but for the present she held her peace. Clair remained with Captain Bellwood till after the’ girls, Inza and May, had departed. Then he took leave of the old skipper and his pretty daughter. By that time, under the warming in- fluence of hot toddy, Captain Bellwood was a trifle mellow. He wrung Elegant Ed’s hand, saying with bluff sincerity: ‘Young man, you will be welcome on board inv vessel any time. I shall not forget what you have done to-day, and you may feel certain of that. Elsie will not forget it either, will ye, gal?’ FRANK MERRIWELL’S CHOICE, 11 ‘*Most certainly not,’’? was the smiling answer. Mr. Clair will be welcome here as long as we remain in port.”’ “Thank you,’? bowed Ed. ‘‘I shall avail myself of your kindness, for I often come over to The Harbor. ‘The scenery over here is attractive, you know, and I adinire beautiful scenery—and beautiful girls,’ he added, looking straight into Elsie’s eyes. Something in that look brought a flush to her cheeks, and she felt repulsed for a moment. ‘Then, inwardly, she rebuked herself for it. fellow, for he had saved her life. And Surely he was a splendid he was handsome; no one could deny that. He took her hand as he bade her good night. The hand he held was warm aud plump and soft. and he gave it a slight pressure that added to the color of her cheeks. “‘Good night,’’ he said again. And then, as if struck by a sudden thought, he added: ‘‘I am going to take my team out directly after supper. I should be de- lighted to take you over to Miss Bur- rage’s» May I come for you?” Inza hesitated, but her father quickly said: “Why, certain. If -it- won’t be too much trouble, you may take her over.’? eNo-tyoubienat-al, ?sseid-Clane 4 will be on hand.”’ He left The Harbor whistling >?) It was a shapely hand, his silk hat set jauntily on his head, twirling lis cane. He felt well satisfied with hiiself, despite the fact that his clothing was still wet. ““T have laid ny pipes well,’’ he told himself. 4‘Now I must not make a glip. I rather think, 1 can carry this thing through all right. Ha! ha! ha! Mr. Frank Merriwell, you are slick with the girls, but there are others.’? | At the appointed time that evening he drove’ over to The Harbor with a hand- some turnout and a span. He was dressed 1 a in a manner that was. decidedly ‘‘swell,’’ for he was bound toadd to the impression he fancied he had made with Elsie. ‘Tf the old cove wants to come over with us, there won’t be any room,’’ chuckled Ed, ‘‘Of course I didn’t count on him.”? But he met Captain the The captain greeted would Bellwood on way to the village. him heartily, and told him Elsie be waiting for him. So it happened that Ed Clair brought Elsie Bellwood into Fardale village. ‘To his surprise, she was not only dressed in a tasty manner, but her clothes stylish and up-to-date. He was well satis- fied as he handed her into the carriage, for he saw that no one could about the sort of a girl he was driving with. “*Tt’s too bad to trouble,’’ said Elsie. ‘*It’s a pleasure, Miss Bellwood,’’ de- clared Ed, in his most fetching manner. ‘You are very kind.”’ Then he talked to her in a manner that had won the admiration of many girls be- fore her. She looked up at him with her innocent blue eyes, and he longed to hug her and kiss her right away, but held himself in restraint, as he knew it would not do to go too fast. were guy him make you all this ‘There is plenty of time before the~ show begins,’? he said. ‘‘Shall we not drive about the village a little. Of course you wish to look it over, and this will give you a splendid opportunity.’’ ‘‘But Inza will be waiting for me.’ ‘‘She will not expect you so soon. Don’t you worry, I'll get you to Inza in good season.’’ * ~Somehow Elsie did not feel that it would be best to let him take her about the village, but he talked to her in such a persuasive manner that she could not say no. Besides, he had risked his life for her, and she did not wish to seem un- grateful. 2 FRANK MERRIWELL’S CHOICE, The stared at So they drove about Fardale. young fellows who knew Ed them and wondered who the ‘‘new peach’’ was. Frank. Merriwell and Bart Hodge had decided to attend the show that evening, and they caime into the village - together. Frank was going to take Inza. Both lads wete in good spirits as they entered the village. their rather lively adventures since coming to Fardale. ‘There is no telling what will happen next, old man,’’ said Frank, laughing. ‘‘T expected we would have a warm time here, but so far it has been almost too warm.” ‘*Your enemies seem to have struck the warmest end of it,’’ said Hodge. ‘‘Som- ers, for instance, was well warmed.’’ **Poor fellow !’’ said Frank. ‘‘He came near getting cooked for good.”’ “Served him right!’ growled Bart. “He thought he had.cooked you. He got some of his own medicine, that’s all.”’ ‘*But he is repentant enough now.’’ “Rot! He was scared into it, for he. thought you were a ghost and were haunt- ing him. Likely as not, were he to get on his feet before you leave town, he would try to do you another dirty turn.”’ ‘‘¥ don’t believe it, Bart,’ came ear- nestly from Frank. ‘‘Anyhow, I am not the fellow to jump on a foe that is down, and so Somers is safe. * They think he is a hero at the academy.”’ “Talk about surprises!?? They were talking over a a exclaimed Bart. ‘‘You are the biggest surprise: I ever struck! You surprise me right along. Ican’t understand a fellow who is ready to forgive his enemies. J can’t forgive like that.” “With Harlow and Somers out of the ring, things are apt to be.quieter here. I rather think the ‘surprises are over, Bart.’’ At that snoment EHlegant Ed drove round acorner aud came along the street. ose sesh Vaca Hie (an Elsie was at his side. Frank saw _ her, caught his breath, and almost staggered. “Great Scott!’’ he “What is it??? ask ‘‘In the carriage delay 3? “‘No the girl with him! Do you know Are my eyes deceiving me? e gasped. ced Bart. +) her, Bart? It can’t be possible! ‘“Whiy, said Bart, scarcely ished, ‘‘I believe it is Elsie Bellwood! By that time the carriage was opposite them. Klsie saw Frank and Bart. His face lighted with pleasure, and she bowed. But neither of the boys bowed. They stared at her dumbly, and the carriage passed on. Frank turned to look after the turnout. “*T fee] faint!’ he exclaimed. ‘‘Hold me up, Bart, before I fall on my head! Elsie Bellwood—here—with that fellow! less aston- Say, am I dreaming ?’’ ‘“‘Not a bit of it,’’? declarec Hodge. “That was Elsie Bellwood. She bowed to us.”? ‘She did, and I was too dazed to return the bow. How in the world does it happen that she is in with Ed Clair? Will you answer that question, old man ?”’ oo Canis? 5 z “Talk about surprises!?’ cried Frank. ‘This is the greatest one of all!”’ CHAPTER VI. FRANK IS REPULSED. Frank was dumfounded. His head was He watched the turnout till Once Elsie turned to in a whirl. it disappeared. look back. ‘CSAs Blsie is here, Inza must know all about it,’ he said.. “‘1’l1 find ont what it means as soon as I can see her.”’ ‘‘But that she should be-riding with Ed Clair!’ said Bart, scowling. ‘That was what upset me!”’ “And it upset me! Elsie with that FRANK MERRIWELL’S CHOICE. 4 fellow! It can’t be she knows what he ) is! If she does—— He stopped short, and was silent some moments. Finally, he said: “Bart, I’m going to see Inza as soon as possible. Will see you again after the show. By that time I ought to be able to explain it to you.’? The boys separated. As Frank was on his way to keep his appointment with Inza a hundred wild fancies filled his head. Elsie had not written to him for some time. She had promised to write, but had not kept her word. Hehadthought it strange, but fancied she might be at sea on a long voyage with her father. -Now she was here in Fardale, and she was with Ed Clair, the gambler. A great fear began to tug at Frank’s heart. Clair was a handsome and_ fasci- nating fellow, and he often left Fardale and was away for weeks or montlis. It was said that he went away to gamble. Had he, while on one of those expedi- tfons, met and become acquainted with Elsie? Had he fascinated her so she had fallen in love with him? If so Frank felt that Elsie, the Elsie who was so dear to him, was lost. That-thought filled him with the most poignant anguish. He began to feel fran- tic in his desire to tear her from Ed Clair. Never, perhaps, till that moment had he realized how dear she was to him. ‘The thought that she might be lost to him forever brought to his heart a realizing sense of this. His brain was in a whirl. He felt like rushing to the livery:stable, hiring a fast horse, and pursuing Clair and Elsie. His. good sense told him such an act would be folly. 3ut the knowledge of her possible danger checked him. If she did not know what sort of a fellow Ed Clair was, she should know at once. If she did know—— He did not wish to think of that. He did not wish to think that, knowing Clair was a gambler, Elsie was sitting at his side as he drove that spanking span through Fardale. Vet it seemed possible. It seemed that Clair might have met her while away from Fardale the last time and she had come to the town by ap- pointment. 4ven if-this were true, Frank felt like taking her from the fellow. ‘‘She is mine!’ he told himself over and over, without realizing what he was saying. *‘No other girl has ever been thie saine to me—not even Inza! He has no right to take her from me! Il] take her away by, force, if necessary !”” Frank was desperate then. were open at last, and he knew that Elsie Bellwood was everything in the world to him. e hastened on to meet Inza. In the meantime, after passing Merri- well and Hodge, Clair had turned to the girl at his side, and he saw that she was His eyes pressing one hand over her heart, while , her face had grown pale, and there was a look of pain on her face. “What is the matter, Miss Bellwood ?”’ he asked. “‘T am not feeling well,’’ she answered,’ slowly. ‘‘I do not think I will go to the show to-night. If you will take me back to the vessel——”’ “Oh, surely you will not go back now! Miss Burrage will wait for you. Perhaps Mr. Merriwell wili be with her. He is with her the most of the time. People here say they will get married sometime —if you do net cut ler out.’’ Elsie’s lips were pressed together but she did not speak. Ed went on: “They say you might have cut her out one time,. but that she has the real right to him. They are gossips. You know how itisin a village like this. They want something to talk about. Why, they even said-that, although she be- ¢ 14 FRANK MERRIWELL’S CHOICE. friended you and took you into her own home, you came near cutting her out. I don’t believe you would do anything like that, but gossips will be gossips.”’ Elsie tried to force a smile, but it was a sad failure. ‘It doesn’t look as if there is much danger that I will cut her out,’’ she said. “Didn’t you see how contemptuously he stared at me, and he did not even return ‘my bow?” ‘*T didn’t notice,’’ lied Clair. “Now I know he did not answer ny letters because he did not» wish to,’’ she murmured. In her heart she was thinking: ‘*‘T have been a foolish girl! I let him see liow much I cared for him, and he has come to regard me with contempt. If I had not let him know!’ She was torturbed that moment as only a girl with a sensitive nature and a tender, loving heart may be. “The best way to win some fellows is to show them you do not care a snap for them, ’’ said Clair. He talked smoothly to her. At first she was certain she would: not go to the show. ‘She even insisted that she would return to the vessel. He told her “how lonely it would be over at The Harbor, as, of course, nearly alf the sailors were ashore and in town. Back near the post office they saw Cap- tain Bellwood. Ed drew up, and the skipper came out to the carriage. Then Ed got in his work. He told the captain how Elsie wished to go back to the vessel, ending by inviting Elsie and her father to accompany him to the show. ‘‘We’ll have a private box,’’ he said. “Pardale has just built a new opera house, and it has boxts. What do you say, captain??? ‘“Why, of course we'll G2 said the skipper. ‘‘I don’t get many opportunities to see a good show. And Elsie needs something to liven her up. She’s been je sad and down at the heel for a month. Now, not a word, gal—we’ll go.”’ Elsie was used to his commanding ways, and she submitted, although she did not wish to go. Thus it came about that Captain Bell- wood, his daughter and Ed Clair occupied one of the private boxes. Elsie did not go to see Inza, fearing to meet Frank Merriwell. She did not feel that she could meet him then. Hlsie sat back in the box as the audi- ence gathered in the little opera house. She had a position where she could see nearly everyone who entered, and yet was not out in the full glare of the lights. She watched anxiously. The orchestra was playing the overture before the ones for whom Elsie watched entered. Frank and Inza came in to- \gether.. They had seats near the centre of the hall, well down toward the stage. Elsie drew back, but continued to watch them, her troubled heart throbbing in her bosom. Frank and Inza were talking earnestly. Both looked worried and restless. ‘The most of the time Elsie watched Frank She saw he was the same handsome, manly-looking fellow she had admired so much. Ed Clair sat in the shadow, also. -He pulled his small mustache and congratu- lated himself on the way things were going. “ll play the two girls against each other and win the one I want,’’ he told himself, He talked to Elsie, but she di not seein to hear much that he said. When she did hear, she made replies in a me- chanical manner. Captain Bellwood had not seen Frank Merriwell enter. He was giving his attention to the orchestra. “Pritty good music,’’ he said, nodding his satisfaction. ‘‘We don’t get a chance a FRANK MERRIWELL’S CHOICE. 15 to hear music like that often, do we, El- sie? This is a real treat for me.”’ The curtain went up and the show be- gan; but still Elsie watched Frank and Inza. She had no interest in what was taking place on the stage. After.a time, Inza saw her there in the box. At first it seemed that Inza could not believe it, but, after a little, she called Frank’s ‘attention. Elsie had drawn back still farther, but Frank saw her, and his face flushed, while a look of relief came over it. From his position, he could see Elsie and her father, but did not see Clair. Inza said something to Frank. She seemed to be telling him to do some- thing. Straightway, he got up, passed to the back of the hall, and then came down to the side door that opened into the box. Ed Clair had been anticipating the move, and he met Frank at the door. Merry was surprised, for he had not ex- pected to see Elegant Edthere. He asked for Miss Bellwood. ‘“This is a private box,’ said Clair, haughtily and crushingly. Then he closed the door in Merriwell’s face. ‘CHAPTER VII. MERRIWELL STRIKES. Elsie knew Frank had called at the box and had been refused admittance by Clair. She was both glad and sorry. - For the first time in her life there was in ler heart something like a feeling of resent- ment toward Frank. sie Over and over she told herself he might have answered her letters, at least, “even though he had decided at last that he thought the more of Inza. Clair changed his seat after Merriwell’s repulse. He changed to a position where he could see Frank and Frank could see him. He felt that he had given Merri- 16 FRANK MERRIWELL’S CHOICE, well a body blow, and he was determined to enjoy his triumph. Frank went back quietly and took his seat at Inza’s side. She questioned him eagerly, but it was piain that he put her off for the time. Before the end of the first act five of Metriwell’s friends entered the opera house and found seats together. They were Bruce Browning, Jack Diamond, Barney Mulloy and Ephraim Gallup, : Not far from them Hans Dunnerwust. sat Bart Hodge. ‘‘Merriwell’s gang is here,’’ thought Ed Clair. characters that hang around him.”’ When the curtain had descended at the close of the first act Frank was seen speak- ing earnestly to the girl at his side. As he talked to her she became excited, and she often looked toward the box occupied by Captain Bellwood, his daughter and the dandy of the town. and he Elsie but she Elegant Ed observed this, chatted and laughed with Elsie. did not feel much like laughing, forced the smiles to her lips, resolved that Frank should not know how he had hurt her. When she learned how Frank had been repulsed, Inza wanted to go to the box herself, but Merry advised her against it. “Tt would not be the proper thing, under the circumstances,’? he said. ‘Bother on the proper thing!’ ex- claimed the’ girl, warmly. ‘‘I must see Elsie and tell her what sort of fellow Ed Clair is. I should have told’ her to-day, but I did not find the opportunity. Now I am’sorry I did not make one.”’ ‘‘VYou must not go to that box,’’ said Frank. ‘I should not have done so had I seen Clair there; but I thought the box was occupied alone by Captain Bellwood and Elsie, which made me feel that I would be welcome.”’ _ “Then I will send a message.’? ‘It’s a queer collection of ‘You may send a message by one of the ushers.”’ Frank took a notebook pocket, and Iuza wrote on pages, which was afterward torn out. from his one of the “Dear Elsie—You are in danger! Must see you immediately after the play is over. Shall wait for you at the door. Do not show this, and say nothing aboutit. I will explain everything when I meet you, Don’t fail me, Elsie! rae . This note was sent by one of the ushers to the box. The usher was instructed to deliver it to no one but the girl in the box herself, and he promised that he would not. Frank and Inza watched. Clair disappear from the front of the box, They saw and he was gone some time. Pretty soon he came and sat laughing triumphantly. “‘Hlsie did not go to the door!’’ whis- pered Inza, excitedly. *‘No,?? said Frank, simply. ‘What do you suppose it means ??’ “That your message will not reach her. Clair has blocked it. See, he is laughing at-us.”? “What's that he ») back down. He was has in his hand? Is it—can it be—— “eT he comes the usher.’ The usher approached, his. face crim- son with confusion. “*T beg your pardon,’’ he said. ‘‘I am not to blame. I told Mr. Clair that the note was to be delivered tu the girl her- self. He offered to give it to her, but I would not let him haveit. All at once, he snatched it from my hand and closed the door in my face.’’ Frank’s teeth came together with a click. _ “Very well,’’? he said, and the usher walked away. Inza was growing more and more ex- cited and angry. message? It’s likely. Here e “What can we do?’ she kept asking over and over. -“‘Wait till after the play,’’ advised Frank, quietly. ‘‘Mr. Ed Clair is fast reaching the end of his rope. He must be foolish to think he can keep the truth from Elsie.’’ Thev saw the fellow coolly read the uote and then tear it into small pieces ’ before their eyes and fling the pieces to the floor. He sat near Elsie and continued to chat with her and laugh. Frank’s blood was well warmed by this time, but, outwardly, he was as cool as ice. Hehad resolved to get the best of Elegant Ed that very night. He felt that Clair was maligning. him, and he was right. The dandy of the town had called the attention of Captain Bellwood to Frank and Inza. At first the old man’s face flushed with pleasure on seeing Merry. “A. fine lad!” he declared. him well.’’ ““He is a fine-looking Clair. ‘‘It’s too bad that he masher.’ The old salt wrinkled his face and looked doubtful. ‘“He is young,’’ he said. **T know fellow,’’? bowed is sucha ““Voung fel- ‘lows are liable to be chasing the gals more or less. ‘But he boasts of his conquests. He shows the letters he receives from the girls who are stuck on him.”’ “Ah, now, now!’ protested Captain Bellwood; ‘‘that can’t be true. I do not think Frank Merriwell would be that fool- ish. I know him weil, I tell you. He has been a passenger with me on one of my vessels. He isa frank, open fellow, but I don’t think he would do a thing like that. No, no, sir!” “Tecan bring a dozen persons in this village who will tell vou that he has read the letters received from girls, Among those letters was one from Miss Bellwood, too.’? I know I did in my day.”’ FRANK MERRIWELL’S CHOICH. © 17 This was a bold stroke for Ed. He was determined to get in his work right away. If he could arouse tne so. that Frank and Elsie would be kept apart a that was all he asked. Justin Bellwood looked astonished. “Hum! hum!’ hecoughed. ‘‘I believe you did write to him, Elsie? You asked me about it, and I gave you perniission.”’ Hlsie’s face was pale, but she said noth- She did not wish to believe that Frank had shown any of her letters and laughed over them, but he had acted strangely in not answering them, and she She felt like telling Clair that she did not believe what he was say- how he had rescued her that day, and she thought it would not be right to speak so plainly. “Tf there are love passages in the let- captain few days / ’ ing. was in doubt. ing, but she remeinbered ters,’’ said Clair, ‘the always calls par- ticular attention the girls as soft.’ to them and ridicules The pale face of the captain’s daughter flushed then, for she knew she had spoken freely in some of her letters to Frank, and it humiliated her to think he might have laughed at her frankness and ridiculed her as ‘‘soft.’’ She was sure there had been atime when Frank cared for her, but he was a ‘‘ out doubt, he had met many aristocratic college man”’ now, and, with- girls of wealthy parents, so that Elsie the eaptain’s daughter seemed of little ac- count to hiin save as a companion for some idle hour. These thoughts hurt her, but she feared they were true. ‘‘Well, gal,’’ said the old skipper, “I hope you ain’t been foolish enough to write him anything he could have sport over. He seems to be pretty well satis- fied with the gal he has there, and so you better keep away from him.”’ That was all he said, but Elsie felt that her father had forbidden her to have any- thing to do with Frank. : “It’s needless to caution me,’’ she 18 FRANK MERRIWELL’S CHOICE, thought. ‘‘He would not even recognize mie on the street. Iam nothing but the daughter of a poor sea captain, and he is a Yale man. ‘That’s what’s the matter!’ She took very little interest in the play, although she pretended to do so at times. It was plain she was wearied with it all and longed to be away, but Captain Bellwood enjoyed it, and he would not leave till it was over, although urged to do so by both Elsie and Ed Clair. Clair wished to leave the hall in ad- vance of the crowd, and he secretly cursed Captain Bellwood for his obstinacy. At last the play was over. The curtain descended on the last: act, and the orches- tra played ‘‘Home, Sweet Home,’’ while the audience streamed out of the opera house. There was but one entrance and exit, for which Merriwell was thankful. At the door Frank and Inza took a position where they could see the spectators as they passed. “You must speak to her, Inza,’’ said Frank. ‘‘She must be told the truth to-night.’’ Pretty soon Captain Bellwood, Elsie and Ed Clair came along. Immediately Inza hastened to the side of her girl friend, crying: ‘“‘Oh, Elsie, I must see you a moment! I wish to speak with you.’ A muttered curse escaped Clair, and, with a sudden impulse, he reached out to stop Inza, rudely grasping her by the wrist. She uttered a cry of pain. of a hard blow and a fall. Frank Merriwell had promptly knocked Elegant Ed down! CHAPTER. VIIT- A PITCHED BATTLE. There was a sudden surge of the peo- ple who were passing out of the building. _ Women screamed. Some tried to stop on the stairs, but others forced them down and out. Nearly all had left the building before this. Clair’s rnde act had caused Frank to act quite as swiftly. He had struck the fellow a heavy blow, and the dandy of the town dropped like a log. But Elegant Ed was not knocked out. He quickly scrambled up, his face flam- ing with passion. Frank had said to Inza: ‘“Take Elsie away—take her home with-you! There will be a riot here! Get her away at once, or- you may get hurt both of you.’’ “Oh, Frank!’ exclaimed Inza; ‘‘all the town fellows will stand in with him! You will be killed! Yotfare alone!’ *“‘Not much!’ exclaimed a voice, and Bart Hodge appeared at Frank’s side. ‘Don’t worry about him, Miss Burrage. All of our party is at hand. We’ll stand e by Merry.”’ ‘‘Shiver my timbers!’’ began Captain Bellwood. ‘‘What is the méaning of this ?”? ‘Don’t stop to ask questions,’’ said Frank. ‘‘Take care of Miss Elsie. This is no place for her.’’ As Ed got upon his feet, he gave a sharp, shrill whistle. It was answered by ~several whistles. outside the hall, and there was a clatter of feet on the stairs. ‘““They’re coming!’ breathed Hodge, his eyes glittering, and his dark cheeks flushed. ‘We're in for a holy scrap, rae yy The next, moment there was the sound Merry! ‘*Yes, they are coming!” snarled Ele- gant Ed, “and you are in for the worst licking you ever received !”? “Oh, I don’t know!’ laughed. Merri- well. ‘‘You can’t tell about that.’’ Realizing there was danger, Captain Bellwood hurried down the stairs with Inza and Elsie. The eyes of Frank and Bart met. Then they uttered the old Yale yell—the slogan ane that had called the sons of Old Eli to battle on many a field. Up the stairs came several of the young desperadoes of the town. Clair was ready to direct them. ‘‘At those chaps!’’? he shouted, point- ing at Merriwell and Hodge. ‘‘They juinped on me! Give it to them!”’ juny With a yell, Clair’s gang -went at Frank and Bart. “Back to back!’ exclaimed Frank. “We must fight that way till the boys come.”’ Back to back they placed themselves and inet the onset of Elegant Ed’s gang. For a few moments it seemed that they would be swept off their feet. Then there was another rush of feet on the stairs. ““Hurro! it’s comin’ the voice of Barney Mulloy. we are!’’ roared ‘“Gosh all hemlock!’ sounded the voice of Ephraim Gallup. ‘‘Saounds like there was a fight up there!” “‘Vaw!’? puffed the Dutch boy, ‘*There peen drouble ahead uf us, or you vosa liar!” Not a word from the others of the party, but Browning and Diamond were on hand and were the first ones to reach the gang trying to beat down Merriwell and Hodge. ‘‘Sail in, fellows!’ shouted “We need you!”’ Then there was a wild the head of the stairs. The whole mass swung round and went plunging down the stairs to the bottom, and the fight -coutinued out onto the street. ‘Don’t let Merriwell and his gang get . away!’? cried Ed- Clair, directing his friends. ‘‘Do ’em up, boys—do ’em up!” “That’s the chap I want to get at!’’ muttered Frank, who was engaged with one of the big toughs of the town. “Knock him out, and it will come pretty near ending the fight.” He watched his chance and gave the Frank. battle there at FRANK MERRIWELL’S CHOICE. 19 big fellow a punch in the wind that dou- bled him up, then cracked him behind the ear and knocked him over. A darge crowd of spectators had gath- ered in front of the opera house to watch the fight. sheriff, but Bill Hawkins did not happen Some were crying for the to be on hand, and the pitched battle con- tinued with unabated fury. | Frank plunged through the thickest of it, hurling the fighters right and left, regardless of friend or foe, in his search for Elegant Ed. full of rage toward the gambler. At last, he came face to face with Clair. Heseized him by the shoulder, laughing triumphantly. It was the same old dangerous laugh that caine from his Merriwell’s heart was lips when he was most aroused. ‘*You are the party I want!’’ he cried. *“Curse you!’ the whirling swiftly and striking Frank. Merry staggered he laughed again. “That was pretty good—for you,’’ he said; ‘‘but here is something better!” Then he knocked Clair down for the second time that night, and bent over him, saying: snarled dandy, under the blow, but “Get up! get up! I don’t want to hit you when you are down, but I ain going to spoil your good looks for a short time! I ain going to give you some pretty black eyes.”? : Panting, furious, blind with rage, Clair leaped up. Merriwell’s to reach him, and he rushed at Frank. ‘You'll not get out of this with a whole bone in your body!’’ fumed Ed. #‘My crowd will eat you and your gang! We are two to your one!” “If you were four to our one, you would not be so many,’’-retutned Frank. ‘‘But, whatever else happens, I am going to give you what you deserve.’’ “Right!? thundered the voice of Bruce Browning, in Frank’s ear, ‘‘give it to the duffer, Merry !”? t next blow failed - than oue. 5 Then the big college man sailed into the battle again, his huge fists falling on the heads of Clair’s gang, right and left. Browning was a terrific fighter when‘ aroused, gaa he was begin- knocking them ning to wake up. Diamond and Hodge were ial silently and doing their best. Ephraim Gallup was slashing about with his long arms and whooping at the top of his voice: ‘*Wake up, snakes! ain’t more fun than *taturs | We-ow! Who hit me on the ear? Show me the feller that punched me on my hearin’ organ! I’ll do bim good! Stop hittin’ behind my back! It’s no fair kick- in’ unless I kick fust!”? And ‘‘kick fust’’ he did in more cases His big feet were like batter- ing-rams, and they lifted some of the town boys right up into the air. Barney Mulloy was in his glory. **Hurro!’’ he bellowed. ‘‘It’s a roight toight bit av a schrap this is! It’s warm- in’ me blood! ‘Take thot; ye spalpane! did ye ivver see thim come up loike an’ take their medi- Gol darned if this diggin’ Begorra, so plisantly cme?” Then he was struck a blow that knocked him down, but he bounded up like a rubber ball, giving another cheer and sailing into the fight witn redoubled fury. Hans Dunnerwust was down the most of the time. He rolled about under the feet of the fighters and tripped them up. ‘‘Stob steppin’ your feet me onto!’’ he squawked. ‘‘Uf you don’d got oudt my vay uf you vill tread me all ofer. Wow! Oxcuse yourseluf vor steppin’ der schmall of my pack in! You vill gif myseluf der kidney gomblaint uf I don’d look oudt!” Somehow he managed to get hold of the legs of the town boys, and he tripped them up one after another. In this man- ner he was far more effective than he could have been on his feet. FRANK MERRIWELL’S CHOICE. -the hotel to get patched up. “In the meantime, Frank was clinging to Ed Clair and giving hima thorou igh whipping. Again and hélp, but Bruce Browning and Jack Dia- mond kept off those who tried to render him assistance till, at last, he was knocked out completely The fall of Clair heart out of the gang. that Hawkins was coming, and then there was a scattering. To the surprise of Frank and his friends, of a sudden they found themselves left alone and the fight was over. seemed to take the Some one shouted CHAPTER IX. FOUL PLAY. Never before in the history of Fardale had Elegant Ed’s crowd been defeated in a pitched battle. The villagers themselves were slow to believe such a thing had taken place, although nota few of them were glad of it. Frank and his friends went directly to They had not escaped unmarked. Indeed, when they were where the light revealed the true. condition, it was seen that Barney Mulloy and Bart Hodge, two of the fiercest fighters, had been bruised and cut severely, while Hans Dunnerwust was covered with dust and blood, and Ephraim Gallup’s coat had been stripped from his back. ‘‘But we done th’ spalpanes up, b’ys, hurro!’? shouted Barrrey, as he leaped into the air and cracked his heels to- gether three times before touching the floor again. ‘‘It made me think av old toimes in Oireland. Begobs! it wur loike a rale Oirish fair!?? ‘Vale, I didn’d seen nottings fair apout id,’’? declared Hans. ‘‘Some pody got me down der groundt on, und der whole kerpoodle valked all ofer me more as sefendeen hundret dimes!’’ “Gol darned ef I didn’t kainder wish I was to hum on the farm!’ admitted {phraim Gallup. ‘‘That is, I wished that till I got good an’ mad.arter some critter chunked me on the jaw. Then I jest slashed right into the skirmish, an’ the way I lamined some of them fellers was a caution, b’gosh!”? Frank hired a room at the hatel, so again Ed called for’ rs Pe. . fRANK MERRIWELL'S CHOICE. have a chance to wash up in privacy. When all of them were in that room, they talked over the battle as they bathed and straightened them- selves up. Frank sent out for arnica and court-plaster. “Do you know if Inza and Elsie left together?’ he asked of Bart. ‘‘] believe they did.’ “It would have been like Inza had she remained to see how the fight came out. Elsie may have been so frightened the Inza was obliged to go: away ‘with her.’ Frank resolv ed to hasten as soon as possible to the place where Inza was stopping while in Fardale and find out if the girls were safe. He had received two thuinps that left bruises, but he bathed them with arnica, brushed his clothes, and started out fearlessly, not even telling any one where he was going. The fight had produced a tumult of ex- citement in the village, and knots of vil- lagers were gathered on the street talking it over? Frank avoided all of them, and went directly to the house where Inza was visiting. A ting at the door bell brought Inza there herself. She gave a cry of joy and threw her arms about Frank’s neck. **Oh, Iam glad you are all right!’ she exclaimed. ‘But I felt sure you would come out all right.”’ ‘tves, “I- am all right,’’ said_ he, “thanks to the fact that my friends were on hand to stand by me. Some.of the boys were scarred up, but we done up Clair and his gang.” ‘Good! It’s what they deserved.’ “T suppose you have told sie all about him ?”? “Ves, I told her and her father every- thing.. They were astonished, of course, but were glad to know the truth. Captain 3ellwood says he will look out for Clair.’ “Where are they now—Elsie and her father??? Z “They started for The Harbor about ten minutes ago.”’ Frank looked worried. “T wanted to see them,’ he said, ‘‘I imeant. to take the boys and escort them over. “‘QOh, I don’t suppose there is any dan- ger, Captain Bellwood can look out for HAsie:™* that they might , ¢ Pp Captain D he might be.’ ellwood is no as Inza showed alarin “Tyo you Uae Pind pre ‘It’s not likely to theni,’’ said Brat ‘but : shell have felt better had they. been pro- tected,’ Then, with a hasty adieu to Inza, he hurried back toward the hotel. _ 1za was disappointed by Frank’s call. He had not seeined like himself, and he had hurried to get away as soon as he learned Elsie was not there. “It was Elsie he came to told herself. She felt her cheeks flush, and in her see,’’ she heart an arrow of jealousy rankled. For long years she and Elsie had been friendly rivals, but now she felt that the time had come when Frank _ should choose between them. It must be that he cared more for one than for the other, and he should say which one. The more she thought about it the firmer this idea became fixed in her mind. Frank’s great concern over Elsie’s safety wotried her, and still she would have thought less of him had he not shown concern. : I will still remain Inza, although the ‘Tf she wins him, her friend,’ declared thought was distressing. ‘I am not going to be foolish and hate her. She is a sweet girl, and she has not tried to win him from me, If I were to ask her to do so, she would drop him at once and never have anything to do with him. She would think it her duty.’ ae instead of asking such a thing of Elsie, Inza felt that she would urge the captain’s daughter to win Frank if she could. ‘‘T don’t want him if he cares ‘more for her than he does for me,’’ she told herself. Frank hastened back to the hotel. Out- side the door some young men were talk- ing. One of them said: ‘“Wonder where Cl@ir and his gang has gone??? ‘“Why ??? asked another. ‘‘Saw them about ten minutes ago striking out on the road toward The Har- bor. Can’t be they are looking for Merri- 4 22 FRANK MERRIWELL’S CHOICE, well’s crowd, for them fellers are right here in the hotel.’ — 4 Frank shot into the hotel, he bounded up the stairs, he burst into the room he had hired. “‘Boys,’? “he panted, ‘‘there may be mote trouble to-night !”’ ‘‘Oxcuse ime vile I get mine seluf der bed under!’ cried Hans, in alarm. ‘What do you mean?’’ asked Hodge, who had patched up his wounds. ‘‘More trouble—how ?”’ ‘‘Captain Bellwood and Elsie started out for The Harbor a short time ago. I have just learned that Ed Clair and his gang followed thein.”’ There were exclainations from all sides. “How many of vou are with me to take the road to The Harbor at once?’ asked Frank. Every man expressed his readiness, even to Hans, “Then get ready and come on, rected Frank. “ Outside of Fardale it was dark, for the sky was overcast. Thercad to The Harbor lay through the blackness. -Along that road the little party made its way as swiftly as possible. Few words were spoken. When it was necessary to speak, low tones were used. Frank led the party. His ears were open, and he seemed to be waiting for something, he knew not what. More than two-thirds the distance to The Harbor had been covered. Down the road in the collection of huts one or two lights gleamed a dim red. There were lights on Captain Bellwocd’s schooner at the wharf, aud other lights on the vessels laying off. Ofva sudden, Frank’s foot struck against something, over which he stum- bled, falling on his hands and knees. There was a groan. ‘“What’s the matter?’’ asked Hodge, quickly. ‘‘Are you hurt, Merry ?”’ BENT gy ¢ ‘ “But we heard you groan.”’ **T did not groan.’? “We heard a grdfm.”? “There is somebody in the road,’’ said Frank, huskily, a great fear assailing him. ‘‘I fell: over his body. Strike a match—quick! quick !”’ Jack Diamond hastened to obey, for 2 di- the sound of Frank’s voice told lim haste was needed, even though the words had not been so urgent. He scratched the match. It flickered, flared, and then— puff !—a breath of wind blew it out. But that one brief flare of light hads shown the staring lads a dark figure stretched prone in the dust of the road. Diamond uttered a cry, and then felt for another match; but he was thrust aside by Barney Mnlloy, who said: ‘It’s a poor Oirishmon ye’d make, me b’y, av ye can’t loight a match in this bit av wind. Oi can loight wan in a ale. It’s aisy enough whin ye know th’ 9 thrick- Then he struck a match, shaded it with his hands till it burned up brightly, and then opened his hands so the light fell full on the prostrate figure in the road. It was Captain Justin Bellwood! “‘Roul play!’ cried Frank, pointing to a stain of blood on the old man’s hair. CSAP dE Ra Dee IN THE “He is dead!” ‘*He’s been siurdered!”’ “It?s the divvil’s own wurruk These exclainations came from Frank’s companions as they stared down at the old man lying so still in the dust of the road, his white hair dyed crimson with blood. For a moment Frank Merriwell was unnerved. It was not the sight of Justin 3ellwood lying there so much as it was another thought that took the heart from him. Where was Elsie? She was not there, and, without doubt, she had been carried away—kidnapped ! The match dropped from Barney Mui- loy’s nerveless fingers and turned to a tiny glowing ember in the dust. The darkness seemed a hundred times more intense, and the horror of the boys who fancied themselves in the presence of death was great. Then another groan was heard. It aroused Merry, who immediately said: “Strike another match, Barney. The captain still lives. he is hurt.”? Barney’s shaking fingers found a second BALANCE. 1) We must see how bad. as there is a Heaven above us! match and he struck it, kneeling in the dust beside the prostrate figure. Frank was kneeling also, and as soon as the light admitted, he examined the wound on Captain Bellwood’s head. ‘Not such of a cut,’’ he said. ‘‘Hewas struck down from behind, and, if his skull is not fractured, he may come round all right. The blow robbed him of his senses.’ ‘What kin we do, Frank?’ asked Ephraim Gallup, helplessly. “You strike back to the village for a doctor, and’ be lively about it,”’ Merriwell directed. ‘‘The rest of us will carry the captain to his vessel, which lays at the wharf down yonder. Bring a. doctor, Ephraim. Teil him it is a case of life or death.’ Tl] do it, b’gosh!?” exclaimed the boy from Vermont, as he scurried away in the darkness, setting out on a run for the village. Captain Bellwood was- lifted and car- tied down to his vessel. Frank was hold- ing himself well in, check, althongh his heart was full of despair and fury at the thought of Elsie’s peril. ‘“Where do you suppose she_ is, Merry ?’’,asked Hodge, seeming to read Frank’s thoughts. ‘“Heaven . knows!’ from Merry’s lips. “Rd Clair has——”? “Tf he harms a hair on her head, Vl have = lifa!’’ panted Fratik Merriwell. “Tf he harms her, I will kill him as true yo) ) caine helplessly before had Bart heard Frank take such an oath, and he realized that Merry really meant it. Should harin come to Elsie, Frank would seek Ele- gant Ed, thirsting for his blood, Hodge did not wonder, for he had known for a long time that Frank thought the world of Elsie. He had seen Merry hold himself in restraint when all sorts of injuries had ‘been heaped upon him, but now, if the girl, he loved was harmed, he would be like a raging tiger. ‘Hell keep his word!’ thought Bart. ‘(He will kill Clair!’ si Gi knew the hour had come when all the passions Frank had held in clieck so long might break forth like a confla- gration. Bart had realized. that Frank Never FRANK MERRIWELL’S CHOICE. 23 possessed these passions, but held them in check by wonderful will power, and now his sympathy was fully with, Merry. The vessel was reached and Captain Bellwood was taken aboard and carried into his cabin, where he was placed in a bunk. ‘The wound on his head was not bleeding much, and he was breathing regularly Frank called for water, and bathed the old skipper’s head and face. After a little, the captain opened his eyes and stared about in a dazed way. “*Captain,’’ said Frank, softly holding his voice as steadily as possible, ‘‘how do you. feel ?”? Eh??? said Justin ‘What's the matter ?”’ He spoke with some difficulty, his tongue seeming thick and unwieldy in his mouth, “Vou. were hurt, t happen ?”’ “Hurt? I don’t know. My head—— He lifted a hand feebly to his head, and then paused, apparently trying to ¢ollect his thoughts. All at once, he started up in the bunk, crying: “My little gal!” “Ves, yes!? said frank, him. ‘‘Whiere is she?” ‘‘Where is she? God knows! she here ?”’ digs ‘“‘She is not here, captain. We found you ‘in the road, and brought you here. We did not find her! We found no trace of her.”’ For some moments Captain Bellwood ~ raved like a madman. “Phe devils!’ he cried. Bellwood, hazily. captain. How did ” steadying Ain’t ‘They have eatried her an ! Oh, my poor little gal! 1) ‘‘Who did it??? demanded Frank. ‘‘Be calm, captain. ‘‘Tell us who did it, so that we can save lier.’’ It was with the utmost difficulty that Merriwell could make an outward show- ing of calmness himself. His face was leathly pale, and his eyes were blazing with a wild light. “ He was eager to hear what the distracted father could tell. “(IT don’t know who did it!” groaned Captain Bellwood, “‘T could not see them in the deketah ‘‘How did it happen ?”’ 24 FRANK MERRIWELL’S CHOICE, ‘“We were coming to the vessel. Oh, my poor Elsie!’ ‘*Ves, yes—you were vessel.” Go on.’’ ‘“We heard footsteps behind us. A ntinber of persons were coming on the run. Almost before we knew it they were right upon us.”’ ‘*Go on! Go on!”? ‘Tt drew Elsie out of the way to let them pass, but they stopped and sur- rounded us. One of them grabbed my gal. Istruck him down, old man though Iam.” ‘“What happened then?’’ ‘“Then it seemed as if the heavens fell on my head.- Isawa blinding burst of light, and next I knew I was here—my poor Elsie!” It was all Captain He had not seen one of recognize him, and he did whither Elsie had been taken. Frank was certain Elegant Ed and his gang were the culprits, but the thought that he could not follow them up at once filled him with such despair as he had never before known. He felt like destroy- ing anything and everything within his teach. For once his nerves were beyond his control. Without a word he sprang up the stairs, reached the deck, and rushed. ashore. Be- fore any one could stop him or ask hima question, he had vanished in the dark- ness. It seemed to Frank that he must rush -forth and find Elsie somehow, and yet he fully realized his utter helplessness. On the morrow he could have Clair and his gang arrested, but he could not wait till to-morrow. ‘Time was precious. ‘*Oh, God! lead me to her!’ The word came from his lips, although scarcely was he aware that he uttered them. He ran on through the darkness till he stumbled and fell somewhere be- side the road that ran through The Harbor. : Frank sat up, benumbed, dazed, de- spairing. His utter helplessness seemed to crush him, and he felt that his strength had gone from him. All his life he had held himself so well in control that the outburst of that hour had seemed to burn coming to the 3ellwood could tell. his assailants to not know the heart out of him as a single flash burns the powder in a pan. For some moments he sat there, trying to collect his thoughts. There were foot- steps approaching, the murmur of voices came nearer.. Two persons were making their way into the fishermen’s settlement from the village. “It’s a bold lark,’’ said one, ‘Almost too bold,’’ came from the other. ‘““Hope the old much.’ “Dick says he only tapped him hard enough to knock him silly for a little while.’? In a single instant all the energy and life came back to Frank Merriwell. He listened, hushing his breathing and the tumultuous beating of his heart in which a new hope was born. For a moment the two fellows stopped near where Frank crouched. the other for a chew of tobacco, and the plug was dropped in passing from hand to hand. ‘Then they-struck a match to search for it, and the flare of light threat- ened to betray the youth who knew the rescue of Elsie Bellwood that night de- pended on what he should hear from the lips of these two members of Elegant Ed’s gang. skipper ain’t hurt CHAPIEBPR OX A DARING RESCUE. The match burned -brighter. Frank Merriwell remained perfectly motionless. He could have been had either of the two village lads looked in his direction. “Here she i1s!?? The tobacco was found and the match was dropped. The danger of discovery was past. ‘“How is Ed goin’ to work his game?’ ” asked one. ‘‘He won’t dare hold the girl till mornin’, for the whole of Fardale will be on the hunt for her by that time.’? ‘‘He don’t mean to do that. He’s goin’ to rescue her before long.”? **Rescue her??? ‘Yep. That’s his trick to make him- self stand solid with her and her old dad. She don’t know he had anything to do with the kidnappin’, and he ain’t ever goin’ to let her know.”’ One/asked Now Frank Merriwell was listening, determined not to miss a word. ‘*Kid’s always up to some dare-devil thing, but he run against a snag in Frank Merriwell. Ginger! but .Merriwell’s crowd is tough! I’m well marked to pay for the part I took in that scrap. I don’t see what Ed’s puttin’ himself to so much trouble for.”’ **For the reason that he wants to get ahead of this Merriwell. The girl is stuck on Merriwell, but thinks Merriwell is stuck on that other girl with the black hair and eyes. Now, if Ed, after rescuing her from drowning to-day, can save her from a gang of ruffans who kidnapped her, he ought to be pretty solid with the little peach. See? All the fellers‘wear masks, so she can’t identify us when she sees us ag’in. We have her down in Old Green’s hut. After we keep her there a whide, Ed breaks in, puts us all to flight, and saves her. If she don’t glue to him after that, she ain’t so soft as I think most gals are.”’ ‘‘The plan’s all right, if nobody don’t git into trouble carryin’ it out.’’ “Well, = Bd = pays us to chances. ’’ ‘*No fellers caine down from the village arter Merriwell’s gang ?”” SONG: » ‘And they’re all on the vessel ?”’ SOLeee ‘“‘Well, there ain’t no use to watch the road longer. Let’s go down and see the gal.’’ Frank Merriwell. tore off his shoes as they walked away, and, in his stockinged feet he followed them with the footsteps of a creeping cat. “Oh, Pll take a hand in this. little game !’’ was the exultant cry of his heart. “Go on! Lead me to her!”? He felt that he could cope with a score of foes in defense of Elsie—his Elsie. From deepest despair his soul had sung back to hope and determination. With the skill of an Indian trailer he followed the two through the darkness. They passed through the fishers’ settle- ment, and, some distance beyond, they cane to a wretched hut that stood by it- self not far from the shore. Outside the door of this hut the village ruffians paused to turn their coats and take the FRANK MERRIWELL’S CHOICE. 25 “window. In another and, as he straightened up, he blinked » had fancied Frank was Ed Clair, but hide their faces with masks. Then they gave a signal knock and were admitted. Frank slipped up quickly. Listening at the door, he heard voices within. ‘Then he passed round the hut and came toa window that was heavily curtained on the inside, so that not a single ray of light shone out. Once more he heard voices. “Don’t be so skeered, little gal,’’ said a muffled voice that seemed disguised. “Vou won’t be killed.”’ Then Frank’s heart went into his throat with a bound, for he heard Elsie’s trembling voice pleading with them—en- treating them to let her go. Instantly Frank felt about. On the ground almost beneath the window he found a broken clam hoe. He did not hesitate, and he did not go for aid. He felt that his place was at Elsie’s side, and he swung the clam hoe. Smash! Crash! Jingle! In amoment he had smashed in the moinent, having torn down the blanket suspended before it, he went through the opening at a single bound. Coming thus suddenly from darkness into light, he was blinded temporarily,- like an owl, realizing that he was face to face with the whole of Ed Clair’s gang. “Brank !? A screain of joy from Elsie. She broke away from a big fellow who was holding her on a chair and rushed into his arms. ‘*Bilsie, my. darling!’ He held her clasped to his bosom, half fainting as she clung there. It was a genuine sensation and a pow- erful tableau. Before him, astounded by his remarkable entrance, was the gang of kidnappers, all of them disguised and masked. It is possible that, at first, some of them when he was fairly within the hut and had straightened up before them, they realized the mistake. “It’s Merriwell!”’ Several uttered the cry. For some moments they seemed to hesi- tate on the point of flinging open the door and taking to their heels. It‘was pfain 26 FRANK MERRIWELL’S CHOICE. they expected Frank’s friends to follow him through the broken window. Seeing he was not followed by his com- panions, they began to gather courage The big fellow who had been holding Elsie in a chair and talking to her roared : ‘“At the fool, f fellers! Now’s our chance to hammer the life out of him!’’ The disguised toughs seemed on the verge of rushing at Merry. Frank swung Elsie round onto his left arm, and with his right hand _ he lifted the broken clam hoe. ‘‘Come on!?’? he challenged, his eyes blazing—‘‘come on! Ill agree to drive these tines into afew of you! Some of you wiil be taken out of here on stretch- ers! -Come on!”’ It seemed that he was eager for them to attack him, and that ‘caused: them to hesitate again. Surely if he struck one of them on the head with the broken clam hoe the tines would pierce the brain of the one struck. And he would not hesitate to-strike, they were sure of that. **Vou fool!’’; roared the big fellow. “You have run your head into a trap! Do you think you'll ever get out of here without being hammered within an inch of your life?”’ ‘here are not enough’ cf you to do the trick!’ flung back Merriwell. ‘‘You dirty loafers! You wretched ruffians! Come at me! All I want is a good excuse to lay some of you out for planting !”’ He was fierce enough just then. Had there beerra hundred men at his back, he could not have faced them any more boldly. He had found Elsie, and he had saved her. He gloried in that thought. Elegant Ed was not on hand to urge his tools to the attack. He was making ready for the fake rescue he had planned, and when he was fully ready to carry it out, he would find Frank Merriwell had outwitted him. Elise’s strength came back when she saw how brave and fearless Frank was. ° Surely he must have friends near. The disguised toughs thought the same. They could not believe he would dare smash in the window ard face them thus, armed with nothing save a broken clam hoe, unless his friends were within call. ‘“They’re here at The Harbor,’’ de- clared one, and Frank recognized the voice as one of the two fellows who had come downsethe road. ‘‘We saw them coine.”? “They may be outside that very win- dow, waiting .for us to .attack him,”’ spoke another. ‘‘Perhaps they’ve got eins and are-ready to shoot when we try to touch him. Mebbe that’s why he is so eager for us to try it.’” "That filled many of them with fear. They tried to peer out into the darkness, and one of them declared he could see something moving out there. Then Frank, who was a skilful ventril- oquist, seized his opportunity. Outside the window a voice seemed to cry: “Aurro! We hiv th’ spalpanes! i >’ys!” ‘‘Vaw!’? an answering voice seemed to say. ‘‘Surround der houses alretty quick right avay! Don’d let anypody oe ey That was quite enough. With crigs of fear, the young ruffians tore open the door and fought among themselves to be the first to get out. Away into the darkness they fled, and they did not stop till they were far from the spot. And, in avery short time, Elsie Bell- wood was in her father’s arms. CHAPTER: 26il, i BRAN KSC OL Be On the following day Elegant Ed was not to be found in Fardale. He had dis- appeared, and with him had gone the two young toughs Frank Merriwell had fol- lowed to the piace where Elsie was held captive. It was plain Clair feared the outcoine of his desperate and reckless venture to make himself appear a hero in Elsie Bell- wood’s eyes. He had failed, had been ae- feated by Frank Merriwell, and straight- Come way he decamped, for he feared arrest and © nvestigation. Fortunately Captain Bellwood was not at.all seriously harmed, When his child was restored to him he seemed to recover in a most amazing manner. But he was bitter against Clair, and swore it would not be well with the dashing young scoundrel if they ever met again. The captain praised Frank for his dar-’ ing. Over and over ‘Elsie told how Frank seemed to come flying through the broken window to her rescue; how he boldly im “among themselves, they faced the whole crowd of young ruffians, how sirgle-handed he had saved her. The whole of Fardale rang with the story. It wasasensation for the little town that had been given several sensa- tions since Frank’s appearance there as a visitor. Merry was regarded as something of amarvel. The village boys followed him when he appeared in town, staring at him, and telling each other that he was a ‘‘jim-hickey.’ Frank was not pleased with so much notoriety. He did not strut and pose, and he blushed like a girl when any one praised him to his face. Open praise made him feel like running awav. He told his chums that he would be driven out of the town if *‘the thing kept up. Merriwell’s exploit was no surprise to his comrades. Anything he might do would not seem remarkable to them. But, discussed his ex xploit, and agreed that not one fellow in a thousand would have dared face the’ toughs single-handed, nor would. have succeeded in rescuing Elsie had he dared. Elsie was invited and urged to come into the village and stop a few ¢ days with Inza. She finall y coiieniie The girls did not seem to tire of talking about the kidnapping and Frank’s daring rescue. “Ed sie,’’ said Inza, with unusual grav- ity, ‘‘no fellow would have done that for a girl he did not care more for than all the world.” Elsie blushed and shook her head. “Tt was not that, Inza!’’ she quickly exclaimed. ‘‘You know Frank is not like any other fellow.’? “And I know you are very dear to him, Elsie. I am not blind.” “Oh , but you are the one he cares more for ian amy one else.’ “*¥ doubt that,’’ came firmly fon: Inza. “Prank likes ine, and I think him noble and all that, but—but—— Well, Elsie, to be plain, he can’t be dead stuck on both of us. There!’ Then she laughed merrily, but Elsie fancied the laughter was forced. “Even if he were stuck on us both,’’ Inza went on, ‘‘this is not Utah, and/ve are not Mormons. He must choose be- tween us ”? : A look of deep concern caine to Elsie FRANK MERRIWELL’S CHOICE. B ell wood’s pretty face. her head. ‘“‘T have no right to ask that,’’ she said. ‘‘You knew him first. TI would not coine between you for worlds.’’ ‘‘Haven’t a doubt of it,’’ smiled the dark-haired girl; ‘‘but there are things one can’t help, and, if Frank cares more for you than he does for nie, I want to know it. It wouldn’t do a bit of good for you to take yourself out of the way and leave the field to me, for he would con- tintie to care for you just the same.” The girls were silent, and there was a troubled look on ~ Hisie’s face. The problem before’them frightened her. Not so with Inza. She was determined the problem should be. solved, but she knew it would not do for them to go to Frank and tell him to choose between them. That would seem immodest. “Yani not going to stay in Fardale long, Inza,’’ said Elsie. “In a few days I shall be gone, and Frank will forget me, as he did before.’ “‘VYou foolish girl” cried Inza. ‘‘He did not forget you.’ “But my letters—— ‘‘Letters miscarry sometimes. Frank Merriwell did not receive your letters. Once I wrote to him and he did not an- swer. I grew angry and did not write again. Afterward I knew he never re- ceived mv letter.”’ ‘“*But, Inza, if he should choose be- tween us—if he should plainly prefer one of us——”? “What then?’ ‘‘Wouldn’t it break our friendship ?”’ ‘Look here, Elsie Bellwood, let’s make an agreement now. Let’s swear to be friends always and ‘forever, no matter what happens. Wecan’t have Frank both of us.. Perhaps some time when we are older and—and—married—perhaps we may want to visit each other. Are we go- ing to be foolish and never do so just be- cause both of us could not get the same fellow?” e Inza was very grave, and Elsie was only so. They pledged themselves then and there always to be friends, no matter what might happen. Back of Fardale village less than a mile laya small lake. It was the same Again she shook v2 upon which Frank and Paul Rains had 28 FRANK MERRIWELL'S CHOICE. once raced for life when Inza and May Blossom broke through the ice while skating there winters before. There were water-lilies on the lake, and so, one afternoon, Inza and Elsie went there to gather some. They pro- cured a small boat and rowed about on the ‘lake. They had not been there long before Inza saw two lads rowing up from the lower end of the lake. She recognized them at a distance as Frank Merriwell and Bart Hodge. A sudden thought seemed to come to the dark-haired girl. “Can you swim, Hlsie?’* she asked. “Not much,’? was the answer. ‘‘I tried to learn last summer, but did not succeed very well.’ ‘“‘But you can swim a little?” “Oh, a very little.’ “Do you think you could keep afloat a minute?” ‘Possibly I might. Why do you ask ?”’ “Oh, I just wanted to know,’’ answered Inza, evasively. Elsie soon saw the other boat approach- ing, and called Inza’s attention to it. “Don’t seem to notice them at all,”’ said Inza. ‘‘T’here are some lovely lilies. Let’s be gathering them.”’ So they rowed toward the lilies, while Frank and Bart rowed nearer, sending their light boat along with regular and powerful strokes. Both lads were splendid rowets. ‘They had removed coats and vests, and seemed to be stripped down for work, It was plain they enjoyed rowing. At last, when the boys were quite near, Inza leaned far out of the boat to reach for a lily. She touched it, but the boat suddenly tipped and began to take in water. Both girls screamed, and, in an- other second the boat capsized and they were in the water. The boys heard them scream and turned to see what had happened. ‘‘Jupiter!’? gasped Bart. ‘‘They’ve upset!’ Without a word, Frank leaped np and plunged overboard. He was a splendid swimmer, and the imperiled girls were not far away. Both seemed to be strug- gling helplessly. “J1] save them both, if possble!’’ he thought. °— 3ut he was determined to save one of them, anyhow. Elsie’s pale face was turned pleadingly toward him, her eyes filled with fear and entreaty. A few strong strokes brought Frank to her side. He caught hold of her, speaking to her soothingly, and assuring her that she was all right. As soon as he did this, Inza Burrage suddenly began to swim toward the cap- sized boat. She caught hold of the stern and held herself up, crying: “T am all right! Help them out first, Mr. Hodge.”’ Bart obeyed her so far as Elsie was con- cerned. He whirled the boat about and backed it up so that, aided by Frank, he lifted Elsie in over the stern. ‘Take Inza in now,’’ said Frank, im- mediately turning and swimming to where the other girl was clinging to the capsized boat. Bart backed his boat down to the place, and Inza was helped in beside Elsie. She laughed as she was lifted from the water. Then Frank came in over the bow, and took his turn at laughing. “‘Tust a summer bath, really doesn’t amount to anything, al- though it’s too bad for you girls to get wet like this.’’ Inza was thinking that it amounted to far more than he dreamed. There was a painin her heart, but she was hiding it successfully. The girls sat together on the stern seat, aud the boys rowed them ashore. ‘“‘How in the world did it happen, Inza?’’ asked Elsie. ‘‘You reached for a lily, and——’? “And reached too far,’’ smiled Inza. ‘*T capsized the boat.”’ She did not add that she capsized it purposely, but such was the case. How- ever, she did whisper in Elsie’s ear: ‘*T said he should choose between us, and he has. When we were both in peril, he hastened to save you first, dear. You ~ are his choice!’ [THE END. ] The next number (100) of the Tip Top Weekly will contain as the complete story, “Frank Merriwell’s Fardale Rackets; or, Yale Lads on a Frolic,’’ by the author of “Frank Merriwell.”’ he said. ‘It ip IOPWEEKLY- ad IDEAL PUBLICATION FOR THE AMERICAN YOUTH ”” NEW YORK, MARCH 5, 1898. Terms to Tip Top Weekly Mail Subscribers. (PosTaGk FREE.) 8 months - - - - - - - 65¢c.| One year - - - - - = - $2.50 4 months - - - - + -- sc. | 2 copies one year - - - - 4.00 6 months - - - - - - ~- $1.25] 1 copy two years - - - - 4.00 How tro SEND Monry.—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 in ordinary letter. Rr prs,— Receipt of your remittance is acknowledged by proper change of number on your label. Ifnotcorrect you have not been properly credited, and should let us know at once. To CLuR RarsEks.—Upon request we will send sample copies to aid youin aining subscribers. All lette hould be addressed to STREET & SMITH’S TIP TOP WEEKLY, 238 William St., New York City. Che Hundredth Tssue. In No. 100 Tip Top Weekly will be com- menced a prize contest of greater magnitude than has yet appeared in this publication. One Hundred Prizes will be i away to our readers. Full de- tails will be published in this column next week. Invention of the Typewriter. It is a mistake to suppose that the typewriter is of recent origin. It was invented as long ago as 1714 by one Henry Mills, who in that year ob- tained a patent in England fora device that ‘‘ would write printed characters, one at a time, or one after the other.’’ There is no description of this de- vice to be had now, but there is no doubt that Mills’ invention was the parent of the present typewriters. In 1833 a French patent was granted to Mons. Progrin (Xavier), of Marseilles, for a typewriter, which he called a typographic machine. The account of the machine is somewhat obscure, but enough is given to show that it was an opera- tive one, by which typewriting could be fairly well executed. M. Foucault sent to the Paris Exhibition of 1855 a writing machine for the blind, and sev- eral typewriters were invented by Wheatstone. After successive improvements, Messrs. Reming- ton, in 1873, contracted to construct twenty-five thousand, The following is a copy of a letter” received by a Western undertaker: ‘‘Sur, mi wyfe is ded and vants to be berred to morrer at wunner klok yu no wher to dig thee hole, bi the side of mi 2 uther ded wyfs—let it be depe.’’ * TIP TOP WEEKLY. Calks With Cip Cop Reader's. From time inimemorial it has been the custom to celebrate the mile stones, so to speak, of success- ful publications, theatrical plays and. institutions. Our readers have seen announcements in the daily press of the giving away of souvenirs at the fiftieth or hundredth performance of this play or that. It is a celebration of success, a bubbling over of en- thusiasm, as it were. The Tip Top Weekly will reach its hundredth issue next week. It is a note- worthy event, and to commemorate it the pub- lishers have decided to give away one hundred prizes. Full particulars will be found in the next number. A letter on girls from a boy’s point of view was published last week. The writer had some strong opinions on the subject and he expressed them tersely. Below will be found a girl’s ideas on her opposite sex. It will be seen that she also has strong opinions. We wonder if ‘‘Sue’’ is the sister of any of our young readers. ‘‘In most respects the boy is strong and well built. A great many boys are lazy and no use at all. They let their mother or sister chop the wood, and bring the water. And when their mother tells them to nurse the baby, they say that isn’t their busi- ness, and they are not going to do it. The lazy boys always come to some bad end. ‘The industrious boy is never seen loafing about the street corner watching a fight, or leaning against a fence, house, tree, or post, with a cigarette in his mouth. When he gets up in the morning he helps mother a great deal by getting in the coal, and bringing the water for breakfast. When next we see him he is in school, his face and hands are clean, and his hair smooth. He is studying his lesson. See how diligently he does it! When his class is called to recite, he knows his lesson perfectly, and does not stumble over it like the lazy boy does. At last he starts in business, and whatever he puts his hafid to he is sure to succeed in doing it. He is a comfort to father and mother in their last days. He is a-respectable citizen and honored by all. This is the way of the industrious boy. Sue.”’ Correspondence. J. G. R., New York City—No. I,. W. H., Portland, Me.—You will be duly noti- fied. A. R. G., Wafayette, Ind.—r. Toots. 2. Yes. 3. Your postal was received and filed. “Jack Diamond,’’ Albany, N. Y.—1. Next week. 2. It wit) bein the form of a simple contest. L. W.,; Jackson, Mich.—1. Yes. 2. A new and extremely fascinating series will be commenced shortly. . “*Bruce Browning,’’ Camden, N. J.—The Opin- ion Contest closed Saturday, Feb. 19. As an enormous number of cards were received, the de- cision cannot be made for several weeks, 30 TIP TOP WEEKLY. A Message Through the Air. BY EK, T. TAGGARD. It was a lovely night in the month of August that I sat on the porch of old Uncle Toby’s house, not yet entirely recovered from the impressions made by a glorious sunset which even then left its footprints upon the clouds that hovered in the west- ern sky. My horse stood at the gate already saddled, awaiting me, but I was determined not to leave Uncle Toby’s house until I had carried my point, and being his nephew, I had enough of the same old blood in my veins to make me as persevering as he was obstinate. ““Uncle Toby, I must have that bird.’’ ‘‘Wa’al, neffy, ask me-for anything else in the house except that, and it’s yours.’’ “*T don’t want anything else, that you must give me.’’ “Wa’al now, neffy, you know that ere carrier pigeon took the first prize at the county fair.’’ ‘‘Which fact will only make me prize it dearer. Come, now, Uncle Toby, be generous.’ Uncle Toby, but ‘*Wa’al, boy, the bird is yourn. You always had your own way with old Uncle Toby.’’ To say that I was delighted would but faintly express my feelings. The bird was a beauty, as may be easily imagined, and as I bid old Uncle Toby good-night, and mounted my’ pony, with the cage in my hand containing the prize I so dearly’ coveted, I drove home with a light heart and a brain filled to.overflowing with plans in which the bird’s speed would be tested. Numerous valuable prizes seemed already to be within my grasp, as I reached home, and having stabled my horse, ascended to my dark and lonely room. I was but sixteen years of age at the time, and on the night in question I was the sole and only ogcupant of my father’s mansion, the other mem- bers of the family having gone on a summer trip to the mountains, leaving me in charge. My room was on the second floor, overlooking the road, and thither I had taken my bird, where in my solitude I-could quietly admire its beautiful proportions. Extinguishing ny lamp, I sat by the open win- dow, enjoying the cool breezes that swept across the lawn laden with the rich odors of the flowers, when my attention was attracted to some dark ob- jects that appeared to be approaching by the road that led past our house. I listened intently, and above the whispers of the summer breeze I thought I could detect the hum _ of whispered conversation. It was no unusual occurrence four tramps to pass our place at that hour, and the circumstances caused only a ripple of curiosity to arise in my bosom, until I heard a latch of our gate lifted, and distinctly the tread of many feet‘fell upon my ear. I was so suiprised, and startled at this _unex- pected intrusion that I was momentarily dazed, and before 1 could decide on a plan of action, they had ascended the doorsteps, and I knew from the splintering of wood that they had already com- menced operations to force an entrance into the house. By the light of a dark lantern which they car, ried I discovered that they were six in number, and all wore heavy black masks the more effectually to prevent recognition in case of discovery. Then my voice came back to me, ami thinking to make up for my youthful years in the volume of my voice, I yelled out in thundering tones: ‘*Hello! What are you doing there?’’ The dark lantern was closed like a flash, but yet I could distinctly define the dim outline of the rob. bers as they stood like dark shadows in contrast with the white balcony beyond. For a moment the stillness of death ensued, when I received a reply, uttered in tones I shall never forget, and with an emphasis that clearly indicated a purpose to carry out what was threatened : “‘T say, youngster, just you take in that head of your’n and keep that baby mouth closed or [ll blow the top of your head off.” The sharp click of a pistol followed, and you can rest assured that I needed no second warning. What should Ido? I was at least half a mile from the nearest neighbor, but the house was surrounded and. escape was impossible. There was certain death in the very attempt itself. The shot gun. Ah! that was a good idea. 1 would get the gun and defend the mansion to-the bitter end. The shotgun I had left in the par- lor so as to have it within reath during the long hotirs of the day when tramps were as thick as huckleberries, and I had forgotten to bring it up stairs that night. My mind had been so much ab, sorbed by my carrier pigeon that I had incautiously overlooked the making of my usual preparations for self-defense. I thought I would go down and get it, and actually opened my bedroom door for that purpose when I heard a loud crash below which told me as plain as words could utter it that the hall door had been successfully forced, and that the robbers were then actually in the house. I retreated to the shelter of my little room, locked and bolted the door, a prey to my worst ap- prehensions. I remembered the cruelty of these masked men, and I knew that if they did not murder me outright they would hy binding and gagging so torture me as to make even death itself desirable. : Of one thing I was satisfied, that the safety of the robbers depended upon my being secured, and to achieve that result would be their first object, If I had a weapon so that I could have made an effort to preserve my life, I would then have been contented, but the idea of an unarmed boy being thus left to the merey of these unfeeling ruffians almost drove me to distraction. I heard their footsteps ascending the stairs, and I proceeded to barricade the door, when a thought flashed across my brain. How was it that it escaped me so long? The carrier pigean that I had just re. ceived from Uncle Toby!—I would release, with a message; it would return to Uncle Toby’s S, and I would be saved, and the robbers foiled in théir search for plunder. I wrote a message hurriedly, secured it to the bird which I placed upon the window sill, when, after a moment’s hesitation, it ascended skyward, and when it passed from my sight was flying like ‘ TIP’ TOP WEEKLY. el the wind in the direction of Uncle Toby’s. The message read as follows: “Uncle Toby: The house has been entered by six masked burglars. Come immediately. ODS Scarcely had the bird started on its homeward flight when the robbers reached my door and tried to force it; but I had pushed my bedstead against the door and with my personal efforts to prevent them from entering, I had improvised a barricade that promised to resist all attacks made against it. The prolonged defense I was making incensed and exasperated the fellows to such a degree that they poured forth threats of vengeance ‘upon me. Their patience became exhausted at last, and a pistol shot which grazed my cheek warned me of the danger of my longer remaining in that posi- tion. It had been fired through the panel of the door. g I rushed to the window and gazed out upon the lawn below. The distance was great, and it seemed to me that, while torture awaited me if captured by the robbers, there was certain death in a leap from the window. What should I do? The distance to Uncle Toby’s house was but five miles, which the pigeon must have covered by this time. But suppose the bird should not be discovered? Suppose Uncle Toby had gone to his room for the night, and my message would not be seen and read before morning? ‘The very thought was so agonizing to me that I re- fused to entertain it. All this time the fellows were working at the door. The bolt was forced, and slowly but surely the barricade was yielding to the power outside. I saw a masked face peer through the opening thus made, and the glimmer of the dark lantern from outside, I could remain no longer. Death itself seemed preferable to the uncertainty of my fate at the hands of these desperate fellows. I rushed to the window, and, without hesitation, I jumped. It seemed to me to be a lifetime before I struck the ground, and when I did, I rolled over upon the grass, temporarily paralyzed from the shock I had received. When I attempted to rise the grip of an iron hand pressed my throat, and I felt the cold steel of a pistol as it was pressed against my temple. To resist meant death. The house was sur- rounded. I held my peace, while the robber pro- ceeded to bind me; for whenever I displayed any restlessness that cold steek was pressed against my head. ‘The only struggle I made was when he attempted to insert a gag in my mouth; but I had to submit, for I reeeived a blow from the butt of the fellow’s pistol that multiplied the stars that I saw in the heavens a hundred fold. Completely discouraged, I gave myself up in de- spair. I resisted no lotiger, closing my eyes to shut out, as it were the gloomy prospect before me. Somewhat surprised at the prolonged delay of the robber in perfecting my pinioning, I opened my eyes. Uncle Toby stood over me. Stretched upon the grass by my side was the — who had secured me, a gaping wound in his head, affording an ex- planation of the sudden ending of his attempt upon my liberty. A dozen determined, well-armed men were with him, The masked burglars at first showed a dispo- sition to resist,.but on reflection, seeing the hope- lessness of any such attempt, they surrendered un- conditionally. At the next term of the court they were each sentenced to fifteen years’ imprisonment. Uncle Toby was making his final round of the grounds on the night in question when the rustling of a bird’s wings attracted his attention. It entered the pigeon cote. Unable to control his curiosity and anxious to ascertain the cause of such a pecu- liar proceédirig, he procured a ladder, ascended to the cote, and there, to his surprise, he found that the carrier pigeon had already returned, and with a message. He read it, summoned his neighbors, and arrived just in time to bag the fellows. The old bird is dead now, but while it lived there was not money enough in our town to buy it from me. Applause, (Letters from Trp Top WEEKLY readers are always acceptable. Views and suggestions will be welcomed.) Perean, Hazleton, Pa., Jan. 5, 1898. Dear Sirs: With your kind permission, we: will endeavor to express our opinion of your Tip Top Weekly and its author. It is a book that should be read by every’ American family, for not only does it afford pleasure, but also educates the mind to act quickly in cases of emergencies. It is a clean piece of literature; nothing vulgar or degrading on its pages, and, in “Our estimation is as good lit- erature as is printed. Mr. Standish is indeed a brilliant man, full of bright ideas, and we judge from his writings is a man of culture. Thomas H. Matthews, Jr., Percy L. Mock. “ Uxbridge, Mass:, Jan. 6, 1898. Dear Sirs: I wish to express my appreciation for your Frank Merriwell series, and only wish they were published semi-weekly, instead. Bennie Loughlin. Natick, R. I., Jan. 7, 1898. Dear Sirs: We want to let you know how we ap- preciate your Tip Top Weekly. We think there is no better weekly on the market, and we wish it came twice instead of once. Fred Whitehouse, George Middleton, Jr., Dan Kane, Jr., John Collins, Thos, Flanagan. Springfield, Mass, Jan. 7, 1898. Dear Sirs: We have read the Tip Top Weekly from No. 1 to the gist, and we think there’s no other like it. We would like to hear from Hans and Barney again. We remain your constant readers, Harry Mathews, Geo. Campbell, Ernest Burger. Anna, Ill., Jan. 8, 1898. Dear Sirs: I have just finished No. 91 of the Tip Top and think it is fine. I have been reading them ever since they began and have not missed a number, and I hope they will continue and be as Would like to hear something Roy Dodd. good as at present. of Professor Scotch and Toots. & 32 Tip Top Quarterly. The earlier issues of Tip Top Weekly are now on sale in the form of Quarte s,each including 13 consecutive issues of this favorite weekly, together with the 13 original illuminated illustra- tions, and an elegant cover in colors. The price is 50 Cents per volume, for which sum they will be sent by mail post-paid to any address in the United States. ~ = NOW READY. = = No. 1, including Nos. No.2, “ ’ No. 3, a 1 to 13 of Tip Top Weekly. Nos. 14 to 26 of Tip Top Weekly. N 27 to 89 of Tip Top Weekly. No. 4, hs 40 to of Tip Top Week No. 5, a 53 to of ‘Tip Top Weekly. No. 6, Mi . 66 to 78 of Tip Top Weekly. If your Newsdealer has not got the Quarterlies, remit direct to the publishers, STREET & SMITH, 238 William St., N, ¥. Tip Top Weekly BINDERS. This binder will hold 26 copies and keep your papers always clean and smooth. No more missing numbers. Handy to refer to and ornamental as well as useful. Sent post-paid to any address on receipt of price, 35 cents. STREET & SMITH, NEW YORK CITY. - QUT-DOOR SPORTS. _ Complete instructions for playing many of the most popular out of-door games is found in this kook. The games are illustrated and very easily mastered. Price ten cents. Address STREET & SMITH, 25 Rose street, New Vork, Manual Library Department). TIP TOP WEEKLY. FOR EVERYBODY BOOK TEN CENTS EACH, The following list of books will be found useful, entertaining, and full of instructive information for all. They are handsomely bound in attractive covers, printed on good quality paper, illtds- trated, and are marvels of excellence. These books have never before been offered at such a low figure. The price, 10 cents each ncludes postage. USEFUL AND INSTRUCTIVE INFORMATION, Boys’ Own Book of Boats : of Knowledge. }ook Book. dermist Manual. Album Writer’s Assistant, Short Hand for Kverybody. How to Do Business. Amateur’s Manual of Photography. Mills’ Universal Letter-Writer. The Hunter and Angler.» The International Cricket Guide. The Complete Angler. Amateur and Professional Oarsman’s Riding and Driving. Manual. Poe’s Foot-Ball. Complete Training Guide for Amateur Campbell’s Lawn Tennis. Dunn's Fencing Instructor. The Complete Checker Player. Capt. Webb’s Swimming Backgammon and Bagatelle. Instructor. Out Door Sports. Aquatic Guide; or, Yachting The Young Gymnast. Sailing. FORTUNE-TELLING. Cupid’s Dream Book uv The T Good Housekeeping. and Napoleon’s Book of Fate. ssi Zola’s Dream Book. TRICKS. Heller’s Hand Book of Magic. Herrman’s Tricks with Cards. Herrman’s Black Art. The Way to Do Magic. RECITATIONS AND READINGS. The Peerless Reciter. Select Recitations and Readings. The Young Elocutionist. The Standard Reciter. These books will be sent prepaid upon receiptof 10 cents ench, When ordering, please be particular to send the full title of the books desired, also your full name and address. The books are 10 cents each, postage free. Address STREET & SMITH, 25 Rose St., New York. (Manual Library Department.) AMATEUR PHOTOGRAPHY, Many people imagine that a photographer's camera is a Gifficult machine to handle, and that the work isdirty and disagreeable. All this isa mistake. Photography is a clean, light, and pleasant ac- coniplishment, within the reach of all. The camera will prove a triend, reporter, and helper. With a very inexpensive camera any boy or girl can now learn not only to take good pictures, but pictures that there is everywhere a demand for at remunerative prices. . A complete guide to this fascinating art, entitled AMaTeUR MANUAL oF PHOTOGRALHY Will be sant on receipt of ten cents. STREET & SMITH, 25 Rose street, New York. Manual Library Department). ~HOW TO DO BUSINESS. This book isa guide to success in life,embracing Principles of Business, Choice of Pursuit, Buying and Selling, General Manage ment, Mechanical ‘Trades, Manufacturing, Bookkeeping, Causes of Success and Failure, Business Maxims and Porms, ete. Tt also contains an appendix of complete business forms and a dictionary of commercial terms. No young man should be without this valuable book. It gives complete information abont trades, era and Occupatoin in which any young man’ is interested. rice ten cents. Address “= STREET & SMITH, 25 Rose street, New York (Manual Library Department.) - g TLING VRESTLING. History tells us that wrestling was the first form of athletic pastime, Without doubt, it gives strength and firmness, combined with quickness and pliability, to the limbs, vigor to the body, coolness and discrimination to the head and elasticity to the tems. per, the whole forming an erfergetic combination of the greatest ower to be found in man. ‘The book is entitled Proressor LULDOON’S WRESTLING. | It is fully illustrated, and will be sent postpaid on receipt of ten cents. Address 7 SUTBEET & SMITH, 25 Rose street, New York. (Manual Library Department). TIP TOP WEEKLY IMuminated Cover—Price, Five Cents—Thirty-two Pages, Complete List of Stories By the author of “Frank Merriwell.” LL OIVS™ Tales of School, Fun, College, Travel and Adventure. PPASOE™ All back numbers are constantly on hand, and will be mailed to any address on receipt of price, Five Cents each. 37—Frank Merriwell’s Death Shot; or, Roughing it in Australia, . 38—Frank Merriwell in the South Sea; or, The Cast for Life. 39—Frank Merriwell Home Again; or, The Mystery of Ethel Driscoll. 40—Frank Merriwell at Yale; or Freshman Against Freshman. 41—Frank Merriwell’s Match; or, The King of the Sophmores. 42—Frank Merriwell’s Victory; or, The Winning Oar. 43—Frank Merriwell’s Finish; or, Blue Against Crimson. 44-Frank Merriwell’s Game; or, Snaring the Sharper. 45—Frank Merriwell’s Great Run; or, Trouncing the Tigers. 46 —Frank Merriwell’s Even Up; or, Squaring the Score. 47 -Frank Merriwell’s Queen; or, Blow for Blow. 48—Frank Merriwell’s Find; or, The Waif of the Train. 49—Frank Merriwell’s Racer; or, Birds of a Feather. 60—Frank Merriwell’s Nerve; or, Game to the End. 51-Frank Merriwell’s Shadow; or, The Mysterious Stranger. 52—Frank Merriwell’s Dash; or, Yale Against the Field. 53—Frank Merriwell’s Bicycle Boys; or, ‘Whe Start Across the Continent. 54—Frank Merriwell’s Ride for. Life; or, Foiling the Train Destroyers. 55—Frank Merriwell’s Great Capture; or, Bicycle Against Horse. 56—Frank Merriwell to the Rescue; or, Through Fire and Water. 57—Frank Merriwell’s Close Call; or, The Tramp’s Token. 68—Frank Merriwell’s Unknown Friend; or, Old Friends in New Places. 59 -Frank Merriwell Among the Rustlers; or, The Cattle King’s Daughter. 60—Frank Merriwell’s Desperate Drop; er, Wild Adven- tures in the Rockies. 61—Frank Merriwell in the Mines; or, The Blind Singer ot Silver Bluff. 62—Frank Merriwell Among the Mormons; or, The Lost Tribe of Israel. 63—Frank Merriwell on the Desert; or, The Mystery of the Skeleton. 64—Frank Merriwell’s Underground Search; or, Saving the Buried Heiress. 65—Frank Merriwell in California; er, The End of the Great Tour. 66—Prize Plot Story; Frank Merriw 31 as the Star. 67—Frank Merriwell’s Yacht; or, The Chase Down the Coast 68—Frank Merriwell’s Combination; or, The All Round Athletes. 69—Frank Merriwell’s Red Rival. 70—Frank Merriwell’s Texas Tournament; or, Sport Among the Cowboys. 71—Frank Merriwell’s Nine; or, Surprising the Southern League, 72—Frank Merriwell’s Shot; or, Out with the Guthrie Gun Club. 738—Frank Merriwell's Flyer; or, The Winning Wheel. 74—Frank Merriwell’s ‘I'horoughbred ; or, Honesty Against Crookedness., 75 —Frank Merriwell’s Enemy; or, Rivals of the Blue Ridge. 78—Frank Merriwell’s Crew; or, The Champions of the Potomac. 77—Frank Merriwell’s Hunt; or, In at the Death. 78—Frank Merriwell’s Blow; or, Unmasking a Rascal. 79—Frank Merriwell’s Return to Yale; or, The Mystery of the Examination Papers. 80—Frank Merriwell as ‘Anchor; or, The Winning Pull in the ‘lug of War. 81—Frank Merriwell’s Initiation; or, The Secre Order of Pi Gamma. 82—F rank Merriwell’s Sign; or, The Secret of the Silent Student. 83—Frank Merriwell as Full Back; or, True to His Colors. 84—Frank Merriwell’s Duel; or, A Point of Honor. 85—Frank Merriwell’s Mark; or, Subduing a Bully. 86—Frank Merriwell’s Secret; or, A Friend in Need. 87—F rank Merriwell’s Revenge; or, Aroused at Last. 88—Frank Merriwell’s Capture; or She Black Schooner. 89—Frank Merriwell’s Chum; or, The Hand of a Friend. 90—Frank Merriwell’s Double Shoot; or, Winning in the Box. 91—Frank Merriwell’s Danger; or, Disgrace. 92—Frank Merriwell’s Wager; or, Bound to Win. 93—Frank Merriwell In Training; or, The Mystery of the Midnight Prowler. 94—Frank Merriwell’s Courage; or, Loyal to the Last. 95—Frank Merriwell at Fardale Again; or, Yale Lads at the Military Academy. 96—Frank Merriwell in Camp; ov, Frolics with the Far- dale Boys. 97—Frank Merriwell’s Fardale Friends, or, Facing Old Foes. 98—Frank Merriwell’s Yale Chums; or, The Jolly Dogs of Fardale. 99—Frank Merriwell’s Choice; or, The Fair Rivals of Fardale. 100—Frank Merriwell’s Fardale Rackets; or, Yale Lads On a Frolic. 101— Se Merriwell’s Courage; or, True Nerve Against uff. 102 —Frank Merriwell’s Faith; or, The Shadow of a Crime, The Shadow of STREET & SMITH, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK. 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