- Iitustrated Description of Premiums Last Three Pages. - IP ToP WEEKLY. eis ‘Issued Weekiy—By Subscription $2.50 per year. Entered as Second Class Matter at the N, Y. Post Office. Srrervyv & SmiTy, 29 Rose St., N. 3 i Entered Aceording to Act of Congress, in the Year 1897, in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, i ashington, D. C. May {5, 1897. Vol. 1. No. 57. Price Five Cents. Contents of This Number. FRANK MERRIWELL’S CLOSE CALL ; or, The Tramp’ s Token Complete Story. TALKS WITH TIP TOP READERS - - Department. ILLUSTRATED DESCRIPTION OF PREMIUMS : - Announcement. “SUMMER SPORT” CONTEST - - Announcement. Frank Nerriwe 's Close Gall: THE TRAMP'S TOKEN. Author of “FRANK MERRIWELL.’ CHAPTER I. luns, dere ain’t no tellin’ what will cotch yeh. De spookses am alwus ker- . hootin’ on dis kine ob a night.” **Listen, boys!’’ “Oh, say!’ excaimed Harry Rattle- “What is it, Frank ?’’ ton; ‘‘you sake me mick—I mean you **T thought I heard a cry.”’ inake me sick, Toots! You are always The five boys who had been riding | thinking of ‘spookses.’ Sometime you'll through the night slackened their speed} be scared to death by your own shadow.”’ and listened. Bruce Browning, who was following Froin far away came the wailing shriek |along behind, wearily working at the ‘of a locoinotive, brought to their ears by}pedals of his bicycle, said nothing. It the favorable wind. | would require some extra exertion for de-|him to say anything, and so, although TIED TO THE TRACK. ‘“That’s what you heard, Frank, clared Jack Diamond. he really wished to make a remark, he ‘‘T do not think so,’’ said Frank Mer-| remained silent. m2 riwell, ‘‘What I seemed to hear hada} ‘‘Gwan!? cried the colored boy. human sound, and a sound of diftress, |‘‘Don’ yo’ frow no swinuations dis way, at that.”’ Mistah Rattleton! I done don’ lek it, ‘Fo’ de Lawd’s sakes!” gurgled Toots, an’ I’s libul teh git mighty ma-ad, the colored boy, whose eyes seemed al-| When I’s nad, I’s ba-ad. I want yeh most to gleam in the gloom. ‘‘Don’ yo’| ter know I’s no ordernary nigger, but I’s ‘pay no ee teh anyfing dat yo’ heah/a cullud pusson Pleo. in? in ae as If yo? does, ebit- ‘*Be still!” The command came from it was plain he was listening once more. ‘‘T know I heard that cry again,’’ he declared. ‘‘I was not deceived this time. It was— There it is!’’ They all heard it plainly enough. Certainly it seemed like a human cry of dire distress—an appeal for help. “‘Golly sakes teh goodness!’’ panted | Toots. ‘‘Dat’s a spook suah’s yeh libbin’, Marser Frank! I knows de soun’!’’ ‘*T believe the cry did come from the lips of a human being!”’ mond, his interest aroused. not tell the direction——”’ ‘*Help!” ‘“There’s no mistake this time!’’ cried Frank, as they plainly heard the faint shout. ‘‘It comes from off this way somewhere!’ exclaimed Dia- ‘*But I could away He waved his hand to the right, and again the wailing whistle of the ap- proaching locomotive was heard, distinct than before. A moment later the young bicyclists came to a railroad crossing, where the) road ran through a small cut. Then it was that, for the fourth time, 2 wind brought that appeal to Frank Mertriwell’s ears. immediately he vaulted from his bi- eycle, which he ran out beside the road, d€positing it upon the grass. Not being aware of his intention, the other boys passed on, and more slowly. By the time about Frank had left his wheel on the grass and was bounding away up the rail-| road track, his feet ‘sounding on the cross-ties. ‘‘Well, bress mah soul!’’ cried the| darky. ‘‘If dat ain’t jes’ chile, I dunno!”’ ‘*FPollow him!’’ cried Jack. get into some sort of a scrape! be on hand to stand with him,’’ ‘“Phat’s rust jite—I mean ‘*He may it’s RFANK MERRIWELL’S CLOSE CALL Frank, and ' i how? right!’ cried Rattleton, as he gave hi: bicycle a run towatd the ditch, and let it go. ‘‘Come on, fellers!’’ ‘‘Say,’? panted Bruce Browning, a distance, ‘‘ from what’s all this mean, any- I’m no acrobat, and it’d take a circus chap to imitate Merry in movements. ”’ Frank ran like locomotive whistle sound yet he dashed along. The cries became plainer, although they seemed strangely weak, as if the per- son uttering them were in great distress. Merriwell realized that he might be running into danger, but the thought did not cause him to hesitatea moment. He held himself ready for anything that might happen. The person who uttered the’ cries was much further from the highway Frank had supposed at first, the his the neater as a deer, hearing than sound dismounted | they turned) We must| “The express is coming ! just! being brought to the boy’s ears by the more | aid of the wind. | Into some dark woods the running boy |sped, and he knew he must be close upon the unfortunate who was calling for aid. | Frank did not answer the cries, having la fancy that it might be better to remain | silent. | The train nearer | nearer along the road, as he could tell by ithe occasional blasts from its whistle, | For a little time there were no cries, land then, almost beneath the boy’s feet, the appeal went forth once more. ‘*Help! help! Save me!”’ Then it was that the running lad to a sudden halt, | that was stretched across the track. | ‘\Who’s there??? he asked, approach- ing wath greater caution. “What is the was coming Falne lek dat dar matter with you ?’’ “‘Quick!’’ panted a voice that was “husky and weak from so much shouting. Help me!”’ ‘“Why don’t you.get up?” ““T can’t! JI am tied to the track!’ and seeing a dark object ae (eee = AS Sas 5 each passing moment. of the FRANK With a cry of horror, the boy leaped forward, bending over the prostrate man. The shrill whistle of the approaching train cut the air, and the rails began to hum under the sound of wheels, It took Merriwell but a moment to as- certain that the man told the truth— that he was bound to the track in such a manner that the of would cut him in two if he were not re- wheels the train leased. Far down the track a star gleamed redly, growing larger aud brighter with Again the whistle locomotive came through the shuddering air. shrieked the man. merey hurry!’ of ““The express is less ‘‘For the love than a mile away, and will be here inside of a minute! Don’t try to untie the knots! Take a knife and cut the rope! It is the only way for you to save my eee Frank thrust his hand into his pocket, but, to his dismay, failed to find his knife there. With the utmost speed, he searched through other pockets, but ~ with no better success. “T have no knife!’ he cried, in dis- tress, as he saw that red star growing larger and. larger, while it~ threw a gleam on the two iron rails that made them seem like threads of polished silver. | ; |seeming to rob him of strength and will- power. ‘(Do something !’’ screamed the unfor- -tunate wretch, as he writhed and twisted in agony. ‘‘If you don’t do something in a moment, I am a dead man!”’ Frank knew that well enough. MERRIWELL’S CLOSE CALE. 3 loosen them in the few seconds that re- mained before the train would go roaring over the spot. In that moment the boy found himself wondering how the man came to be bound to the track. Enemies—deadly enemies— must have tied him there. the cut through the black woods for the boy to It was too dark there in see the man’s face, but something told Frank that the unfortunate was rough Perhaps he discovered this by his sense of touch. and unkempt. Nearer and nearer came the train, like the juggernaut of destruction. It seemed 'to fascinate Frank, who remained kneél- ing beside the helpless man, staring at the approaching light, and fumbling im a numb sort of way with the knots. The his struggles were frightful in their intensity. His fell with mighty panting breaths, the sound of which, whistling through his teeth, was like puffs of steam. Those breaths struck upon the boy’s face and hands, seeming to scorch him like blasts from a furnace. And yet, asithe man twisted about, lis flesh touched the hands of the boy, and Frank shuddered if he had felt a corpse. nian shrieked again, and breast rose and as The situation was appalling to the lad, He felt as helples as if hypno- | tized by the glaring eye of fire that. | gleamed through the night. The | A horrible thought came to him. headlight of the approaching locomotive| He could not rise, he could not escape _ seemed like the glaring orb of some|from the track! He would remain tnere, land be crushed into a'torn and shattered Paxads of flesh and bones! He was doomed 'to die with the helpless wretch who was | tied to the track ! : \ — Cyclopean monster that was hastening to claim its human prey. The rails were * humming louder and louder beneath the _ jron wheels. . - Frank tore at the cords with his fin-. gers, feeling sick at heart. It actually seemed that something had The knots; robbed Frank Merriwell of his power to_ were drawn tight, and he realized that it| move, and he felt lke one paralyzed. would be impossible for his fingers to| Fear was racking his heart, and yet he 4 PRANK: MERRIWELL’S: CLOSE, CALL. could not crawl off the track and escape | 7 death. “What. is screamed the Are you dreaming ?’’ ‘‘Ves,’? Frank fancied that he pered, although, in truth, nosound came matter with you?’’ ‘*Do the man. something! its w his- from his lips—‘‘yes, I am dreaming !’? It was a frightful death! It wasa horrible than the which the boy had ever been assailed. The humming forth thythinical sound, of more dreain—a dream thousand times worst rails gave which the boy ing monster. too, were terrified by the frightful of two human beings. And now the woods:took up the and it seemed that the dark trees grim monsters of the night, exulting over the tragedy they were certain they Those trees misshapen roar, were should witness. their crooked, arms. and pointed in mockery at the man and the boy who were helpless in the path of the rushing iron demon with a soul of fire. ‘‘In my pocket!’’ shrieked the ‘*T believe I have a knife there! —quick!’ ‘hh? man, Ouick said the boy, dully. Again the man screamed forth the words. Ina moment, Frank seemed to throw off the spell that had fallen on hin. His hand sought the man’s pocket—found it. | “Phat’s the one!’’ cried the unknown. Frank found the knife—he had it out in a twinkling. 3 He paid no further attention to that | tedly-glaring eye, but he worked with swiftness. The knife was opened with-. out the lossof a second, and then Frank slashed at the cords. | T’he iron monster seemed to bound for- | ward with added speed, as if deter mined that its victims should notescape. Itw as. \showed the boy dreaming— | nightmare by. a | fancied | was the triumphant song of the approach- | They quivered, as if they, | peril | ‘none too sharp, and the man was free. Then 'stranger by the shoulders and jerked hit held out | | |tobbed of its prey. now so near that the glare of its horrid fell them, and that how to work eye upon light without: making any false moves. The engineer of the express could not* have been attending to his duty just then, for no warning whistle pealed forth. It did not seem possible for the boy to — escape from the track of the train and~ save the inan who had been bound there. — to jiis effect: Yet he did not abandon that fate, but persisted in his effort to a rescue, The glare of the headlight showed. imc adeet look on the set face of the id —showed a desperate purpose gleamin man in his eyes. One more slash of the knife, which wa the boy caught the helples from the track. Together they tumbled down the lo rolled over and over, and lay panting and motionless beyond reae of those deadly wheels as the expres thundered past. einbankment, CHAPTER II. THE TRAMP’S STORY. A wild scream came from the enginey as it the creature were enraged at bein It was whistling. fe the next crossing, . Frank sat up and looked after the e: | press, 7 ‘*Well,?? he scully a rather close shave. “that was What do you thin observed, |about it, stranger?”’ The man made no reply. He lay pan ing and helpless on the ground, seemin as yet unable to realize that he wag ‘saved. “Cheer up, my friend,’ said the boy ‘(A miss is as good as a mile; but it ‘certain there woud have been no. a: “ss ‘this ease if you hadn’ t pe me where € & back,’ FRANK MERRIWELTD’S CLOSE CALL: find the knife. . I’ve lost my own knife, aud I could not start the knots.”’ ‘*Boy,’’ panted the man, ‘‘you do not seem to realize what you have done!’’ ade Ves‘. do,” surance. ‘‘I realize that I yanked you off the track just in time to save you from was the cheerful as- being chopped into mince-meat by that tfain:”? *fVYou saved my life!’’ **T believe you are right about that.’’ **But you nearly lost your own in the attempt.’’ ‘Oh, I don’t know!”’ ‘I do! Isaw your face by the light of the engine headlight, and the look there! gave ine hope, for there was soimething about that face which said you would not | be frightened into deserting me. I saw a tesolve to saye me, or perish in the effort.”’ On, I leave you while there was a possible show for me to get you off. After I got hold of that knife, I felt sure I’d be able to clear you from the track.’’ “It was a remarkable thing for a boy to do.’ “It rather strikes me that you regard of a trick. And [have found that do things the average man it as too much as for its being done by a boy, some boys can would not dare attempt.’”’ er hatit ‘mMan. my hands free,’’ directed ‘“They still are tied behind my . Frank found the cord and severed it with the knife. While he was thus employed, he heard | his companions calling his name, making the woods ring with their shouts. -Mertiwell answered, and, a moment later, he heard their feet on the cross-ties and their voices in excited conversation | _ as they approached. Then they loomed up in the darkness close at hand. “I tells yeh de sus-sus-spookses hab etried him off fo’ suah!’’ Toots was didn’t propose to run away and | the | ~ uv ‘It any no use teh look him. Well nebber see dat Poah Marser Frank!’ “Oh, ut shup—I mean shut up!’ cried Harry Rattleton, in disgust. ‘‘You \mmaking me tired with your croaking about spooks!” ‘*T saw him near here,’’? declared Jack ‘declaring. no ‘furder fo’ boy no mo’. are | Diamond—‘‘I saw him as plain as I could | by the glare of the headlight.”’ ‘‘T saw him, and Iam sure that I saw Vat ppose they were run down by the some other person,’’ said Jack. don’t su train??? ‘‘No,’’ asserted Harry; ‘‘I seemed to see them get off the track just as the train was tight upon them.’’ ‘Dat: was ‘‘Dat suah was spookses yo’ saw! a ‘lucynashun!’’ asserted ‘Toots. | Dat was a spook what kerried Marser Frank off!’ Just then Frank gave a most dismal groan, and, with a wild yell of terror, Toots clasped both arms about Harry’s neck, atid held on, his* teeth rattling together. “What I tole \‘*Didn’t I done tole yeh so! Dat was a pook, suah’s yeh bawn, chilluns! Don’t let de Good Mistah |Debbil, don’ yeh tetch me—please don’ ‘yeh tetch ime! heah an’ bodder yeh nohow! It was all de oin’s ob dese foolish white boys. yeh!’ he screamed. critter tetch me! I nebber wanted teh come e 1 \Dey done don’ know no bettah, so, if |yeh’s teh take anybody, Mistah 'Debbil, jes’ yo’ tek dem white boys, and ‘let poah Toots go!”’ ‘Tet ov, you black idiot!’’ he shouted. ‘‘Are you trying to strangle me! Get off my back! Why, you’re trying to sain /up my back the same as you would climb Ss) got ) la tree! _ Then Frank burst into hearty laughter, | but the sound echoed weirdly in the dark | woods, the very trees seeming to fling back a hundred fiendish tmocketies of that laugh. : FRANK MERRIWELL’S CLOSE CALL. ¥ As a result, all the strength seemed to} ‘‘That’s jest what it was, young gents leave Toots’ arms, and he fell sprawling | said the stranger, in a whining tone, to the railroad track, where he lay, alter-| which seemed a great change from his nately praying and implo1ing ‘‘good manner of speaking when he addressed Mistah Debbil’’ not to carry him off. Frank as the boy was trying to clear him Both Jack and Harry had been startled |from the track. ‘‘An’ why them coves at first by that burst of laughter, but/should do such at’ing is what I don’t they quickly recognized it as Merriwell’s, | understan’.”’ and it gave them great relief. Frank instantly noted the change in ‘“That’s Merry, and he’s all ri ht,” the man’s voice and language. declared Bruce Browning, as he came} ‘‘Whom do you mean?’’ he asked. puffing to the spot. ‘‘What sort of a|‘‘Who tied you to the track ?”’ : trick has he been up to, anyway? If he| ‘‘T'wo gents by ther names o’ Joyce an’ Oo > has been playing roots on us, and has/ Jones, sir.”’ run us up here as a joke, I’ll lift his} ‘‘Then you know their names? ‘That scalp !?’ is good! Where do they live ?”’ ‘“Tust you try that little trick,| ‘'Well, young feller, they are travels Brownie,’ flung back Frank. ‘‘I_ will/ers.”’ confess that you did fight me to a draw! ‘‘Travelers? How is that?” with hard gloves once on a time, but that; ‘That is on ther level. They don’t was before you acquired such a vast | have no reg’lar home nowhere, but they abundance of flesh. You couldn’t repeat! jest travel ’round over ther country. ”’ the trick, my boy.’’ | ‘*How do they travel ?”’ ‘‘Tf I whittle the flesh off during the | ““Oh, ’most any way that comes handy, rest of the trip the way I have thus far, |} Sometimes afoot, sometimes by rail, an? I’1] bein condition to give you a jolly | sometimes by water.”’ good try by the time we reach San Fran-| ‘‘Then you must mean that they are cisco,’’ retorted the big collegian, with a tramps.” hearty laugh. | ‘*Some folks calls ’em that,’’ confessed Frank arose to his feet, and assisted the;the man. ‘‘Some folks says they're rescued man to arise. The man got upon!hobos. You kin take yer choice of his feet with some difficulty, as if his/names.”’ joints were rather stiff. | ‘*And are you a tramp ?’’ “Who is this with you, old fellow?” | ‘““T am a pedestrian o’ pleasure, gents. asked Jack, as he hastened to Frank’s|To be free wid yer, I don’t much like side. ‘‘I thought I saw two figures by | ther naine o’ tramp or hobo. JI started the glare of the locomotive headlight.’’ |‘outter see ther world some years ago, ‘*Tt is a man I found tied to the track,’’ ‘an’ I’ve been lookin’ it over ever sence, Merriwell explained. “| "Phat’s all, gents.’ The boys uttered exclamations of hor-| ‘‘And is this the man you found tied ror and astonishment. ito the track ?”’ cried Harry Rattleton, in ‘Tied to the track?’ ‘burst from |astonishment. , Jack’s lips. ‘‘Who tied him there?” | ‘Were these men Joyce and Jones céin- ‘That is what I have not had time to/rades of yours?’’ asked Frank. find out yet. I presume he will explain} ‘Well, they was travelers, like meself. that later on.”’ 'I happened ter fall in wid ’em, an’ they “Why, that was,an attempt at mur-|was travelin’ westward, so we sailed along ae . der!’’ cried Harry, excitedly. [togedder. Joyce was a right jolly duek, ‘See os at c ap tetany wont ORs < 2 ts EE me fT © Sy oe otha Bees ' ae tn wind Be ata ~ all der trainmmen left me. FRANK MERRIWELL’S CLOSE CALL. what could tell stories, and Jones he could{sing such beautiful songs, he They had a great way o’ jollyin’| knockin’ me on der coco, an’ sing, 7 was fer finishin’ ther ladies for a back-door feed, an’ that| me off widout delay; but Joyce, w’at tole 7 > ~ y made me warm ter ’em, gents.’’ **Did have a falling ott with them ?”’ ‘*Not exactly,’’ was the rather whimsi- calreply. ‘‘You see we was all kicked out back here about five mile at a water- tank.’ ‘Kicked out of what?” ‘‘A box car, gents. As we didn’t feel able ter travel in a Pullman sleper, we was satis‘ied ter git inter an empty box on a freight, an’ you sail erlong that way. | But ther brakemen tumbled ter our little game an’ they come in on us. They stood us up an’ went t’rough our pockets, but they didn’t git only ‘leven cents in change an’ a old jack-knife, That r’iled them, 'so they shot ther three 0’ us off 1. ther car at ther first stop. Then we took ter hoofin’ it along "ter ther nex’ town. --»l never t’ought there was anyt’ing ip ther wind, an’ I didn’t suspect my com- panions o’ any crooked game; but, jest) as we was passin’ t’rough these woods, gents, Joyce an’ Jones jumped They had me onter me back in a wink, me. an’ they tied me up afore I could make.a| squeal. It seemed like they was all ready for ther job, as they had ther tings ter'| do it wid. *«*Gents,’ says, I in surprise, ‘w’at’s der racket? I don’t seem ter understand this game. What have I done that yer jumps onter me this way an’ ties me : —~an’s behind me back? If it’s me wealth ye’re arter, pals,’ “I continners, some- what sourcastically, ‘ye’re welcome ter In case that don’t satisfy ye, I give yer a check on me own sand bank.’ _ “But this sourcasm o’ mine don’t seem ter have any effect on them ducks. Jhey : don’t pay no ’tenshun ter me, but next I heard them kinder talkin’ over how they ‘ther funny stories, he didn’t seem ter like ther idee o’ doin’ ther job that way. Then they figgered out that it was time fer ther express ter come erlong, an’ they idecided ter tie me ter ther track, an’ let ther train do ther rest. ‘*Gents,’’ said the self-confessed tramp, soberly, ‘‘I done my best ter reason wid ‘dem duffers, but ther more I talks ther istops me mouth wid a gag. less good it does. ‘Then I opens my face an’ whoops a little, upon which they Then they ties me ter ther track, bids me farewell, and leaves me here.’’ The tramp paused in his narrative to wipe the cold perspiration from his face with his coat-sleeve. Then he told how he tried to break his bonds, although he was thinking all the while that it must be a joke of his late companions. Final- ly he succeeded in getting the gag out of his mouth, and then he called for Joyce and Jones to come back and set | him free. } | In answer to his appeal the dark woods flung back dismal echoes, and an owl hooted derisively. Then he began to think it possible there was no joke about it, and he had been abandoned to his doom. ‘The thought made him frantic, for he knew the night express was nearly due, and he fell to shouting for help. He shouted till he was hoarse, but it seemed that his appeal had not reached human ears. The distant whistle of the express filled his soul with unutterable, terror, and he shrieked again and again. After a time, he heard some one run- ning toward him on the track. He con- tinued to call, and Frank Merriwell found him tied to the track. Then fol- lowed the thrilling rescue, which -has been described. ‘‘Voung gent,’’ said the tramp, in con- 8 FRANK MERRIWELL’S CLOSE CALL, clusion, addressing Frank, ‘‘if you hadn’t|was comin’ at. As 1 said, I ain’t got come jest when yer did, them chaps | money, an’ so I can’t pay yer, but—— would ’a’ done for me. You saved me| ‘‘Ietit drop. You are thankful, and life, an’ I don’t fergit that kind o’turn.’’|that is enough to satisfy me, Mr ‘“That is all right,’’ said Merry, lightly. | Briggs.’’ “‘T ain’t able ter pay yer money,’’ said; ‘‘Mr. Briggs!’’ gasped the — tramp, the man, slowly, ‘‘though I would be if}‘‘Well, that’s ther first time I’ve bin I had what’s me own by right.”? called that in so long I’ve fergot thet ‘*T don’t want pay of any sort.”’ time! Mr. Briggs! Don’t do it ag’in, ‘How did yer happen ter come erlong! pal, fer I don’t know who ye’re speakin’ where ye could hear me holler?’ | ter! : : i G4 ae a eye ao Frank explained that, with his com- If I ain't got money, I may be able panions, he was making a_ bicycle trip| * av which came from the lips of the helpless| | ®&eP 34 pal; don’t t’row it erway, } > A ’ r , Vea i+) tramp. ifer yer don’t know w’en it’ll come **Well,’’ said the man, slowly, ‘‘I has} ; ; ; ,, hobos, all yer got ter do is ter show that, seen ther time w’en I. said there warn’t, i ; : ‘ see an’ they’ll let yer go widout furdéf any God—there couidn’t be a God; but : ; ° nae : : ‘trouble.’ it kinder seems ter-night as if he might) ~~. ; é ¢ . Well, I ain sure I ain much obliged,” ’a’ hed somethin’ ter do wid yer bein’! .;. ’, eT said Merriwell, quietly. I will keep it near enough ter hear me holler. My 25 Pa : ce . 55) as a memento of this occasion, at least. name’s Baldy Briggs. W’at’s yourn?”’ |. -., z : a : : ee | “That’s right,’’ said. Briggs, an Frank gave his name, and Briggs con- ots Faire i ea, _keep it wid yer w’en yer travels. Now, ; ‘young gents, I won’t bodder yer longer ‘You ain’t no odernary duck; you has : You has yer bisuckles, an’ I has me feet. sand, Mr. Merriwell. Any odder young Youll travel by der road, an’ I'll hoof it fell wo’d got scat an’ let me gone ter der 7 , along ther ties. Good-by. deuce w’en der train was right onter us. You didn’t. I ain’t goin’ ter fergit that | , : e. S ‘warm pressure, and then, without further He grasped Frank’s hand, gave it a no more’n I’m goin’ ter fergit ther blokes ’ : . w’at tied me ter ther track. Some time _. ; : aie ene railroad, soon disappearing in the dark- I’m goin’ ter know why they done that, ig an’ I’m goin’ ter have a_ settlement wid | , ; words, turned and hurried away along the ’em.”? CHAPTER III. ATTACKED BY. RUFFIANS, ‘*T don’t blame you!’’ exclaimed Merri-| 7 ! well. ‘‘I fancy I should feel like settling | ak say i 4 ; with the whelps. | Two days later Frank Merriwell was “Oh, Messrs. Joyce an’ Jones will hear|scorching along a particularly fine piece o’ Baldy Briggs ag’in, an’ that may be|of road in Southern Illinois. He was fat ~ OD o> ’ / | sooner than they expec’. I'l] niake them | iu advance of his companions, who had not mugs sorry they ever tried any such game! chosen to attempt to follow him when he oa 5 / “ > S onter me, you bet yer! ‘That ain’t w’at I’ made the burst of speed. |handy. If ver should be held up by] +i ‘ « wed es #2 reels: % ss the day.’ = | wilt yer! FRANK MERRIWELL’S CLOSE CALL. 9 It was a fine morning, and the sun was | spirits, was in the best of health and the shining brightly. The country through) pink of condition. That was why he felt which the boys were passing was beauti- $0 strong and buoyant, and it was why ful and attractive in many ways. |ev erything his eyes saw about him looked Sometimes there were hills, or swells, | good and beautiful. and there were picturesque groves, with; ‘‘It isa grand old world!’’ he laughed, houses set in the shelter of the trees,|as he sped along. ‘‘The fellow who while fields of corn and grain could be| kicks about this world is a chump. He seen in every direction. 'should be kicked out of it.’’ Somie of those cornfields were marvels} Ahead lay a small grove, through to the boys, for the corn. stretched away! which the road tan. As he entered, the 11 a vast green forest to the crest of some grove, he saw two rough-looking men distant wees making it seem that corn! standing in the road ahead. They were erew like grass there. ‘watching his approach, aud seemed to be 2 Buta ec ; i ose examination showed the! waiting for him. evideuces of careful cultivations, and! ‘‘I don’t like the looks of those fel- tows stretched away as straight as/lows,’’ thought the boy. ‘‘They.seem such loug lines could be drawn. like tramps, and one of them has a short Men were at work in the fields, and, | club in his hand. Ill keep up steam till occasionally, women were seen working ‘I pass them. side by side with the men. They usually; As he approached, one of the men, a _. paused to stare at the boys who flashed fellow with a short wed beard, stepped past on their shining wheels. | |into the middle of the road and held up ‘Surely this is a fine farming coun-| his hand. try,’’ thought Frank; ‘‘and the roads are} ‘‘Hold on, young feller me i) ) / o> ) made for cycling—when they are not wet. | ‘‘We wants ter talk ter ye.”’ bs ag A fellow’s*wheel seems almost to run; Frank bent yet a little farther over the alone here.’? | handle-bars, and sent the wheel flying he = cried. The fresh air was like wine in his head, | along. and it seemed quite impossible for brian ‘“Get out of the way!’’ he shouted. to nse the energy at the pedals which he|‘‘I can’t stop to talk.” * desired to put forth. | ‘*Hold on, I tell ye!’’ snarled the red- He looked back and laughed, for, far | bearded man. “If ye don’t— Dern yer away, just coming over the crest of a| pelt!” swell were his. friends, the nickel work} He leaped aside with awkward nimble- on their wheels glittering in the sun-|ness, for he saw that the boy had no shine, thought of stopping, and barely was he it is sport to runsaway from them,’’/in time to avoid being run down. eried. Frank. ‘‘Jack or Harry might} Wtih a cry of rage, the man lifted the give me a hot race, but they are not in-{heavy cudgel in his hand and sent it fly- - ¢lined to try it. Jack says it uses up his|ing after the boy. energy to spurt in such a manner, and| It struck Frank between the shoulders _he generally needs it all before the day’s/and sent him pitching forward from the run is over. Well, I have to work off a/ bicycle to the ground. certain amount of superfluous energy in “Ding ye!’’ howled the big man, as he order to settle down to a steady jog for,leaped forward. ‘‘Try ter run me down, 9) " _ He was cies with animal | He pounced upon the boy like a beast ’ © 10 FRANK MERRIWELL’S CLOSE CALL. of prey, pinning Frank to the ground. His yellow teeth showed thiough his| coarse mustache, and there was an ugly | glare in his eyes. The other man came running up, laughing as if it were a great joke. ‘‘Well, yer done that slick, Pink,’’ he| cried, in a complimentary manner. “They don’t run away from you none when ye tells ’em ter stop.’’ ‘*Not much,’’ grated the big man. ‘“When they tries ter monkey with me, they gits hurt—that’s w’at!’’ ‘*Well, I don’t t’ink yer needs ter hold that kid down, fer ther fall clean knocked ther wind outer him.”’ ‘Kh? Guess ye’re right, Bob. He ain’t cuttin’ up none to make us _ nerv- ous. Hope I didn’t break his back wid thet ciub.”’ “*And I hope he didn’t break his neck w’en he fell.”? ‘““That wouldn’t be so bad, for we ‘could leave him here, an’ it would seem that he’d got a dump off his wheel, an’ that hed fixed him.”’ ‘*But, jest as hard, ] don’t keer ter be in no more killin’s. That job w’at we did ther odder night was enough fer are, ?? ““Ye’re soft, Bob, that’s w’at’s ther matter wid yer. We gota good bit o’ stuff fer doin’ that job.’’ **We ain’t got all o’ it yit.”’ ‘*But we will w’en we gits ter der fine gent w’at hired us, an’ that won’t be ther end o’ it. We'll continner ter pull his leg at intervals jest as long as we wants ter. He won’t darst ter refuse ter cough w’en we says cough, In der mean time, however, we has ter hustle for our- selves, an’ I’m tired 0’ bein’ kicked off railroad trains. W’en I sees dis young gent on dis bisuckle, I kinder made up my mind that ridin’ a wheel was bet- ter’n walkin’, an’ so I: decides ter borrer his bisuckle. ‘That’s why I took ther trouble ter stop ther cove.”’ At this moment, from far away, caiie ithe sound of a clear voice singing so ome sort of bicycle song. The two ruffians looked at each other in alarm, and then the big man cried: ‘“‘Gimme a han’ here, Bob! Some foo! is comin’! We've gotter git dis feller inter der bresh! Lively now!’ They caught up the boy, and, with Frank in his arms, the big fellow ran in a Jumbering manner into the bushes. The other man lifted the bicycle, and hurried after his companion. Barely had they disappeared tnto the thick bushes when Jack Diamond came spinning along the road. The men had dropped Frank to the ground, and the big ruffian was crouch- ing astride the lad’s body, peering through the bushes. The other fellow hid himself behind the butt of a tree. Merriwell was dimly conscious of what was taking place. He knew that his friends were passing, and he sought to lift himself and call to them. an Instantly the heavy hands of the big man closed on the neck of the unfortn- nate lad, and Frank was pressed back to the eteaded: while a hoarse voice hissed in his ear: ‘*Don’t yer try ter cheep, young feller! It won’t be good fer yer if ye do! Keep yer face closed !”’ _ The pressure on Frank’s throat would have prevented his making any outery, had he desired, and it is doubtful if he could have made his friends hear him had those hands been removed. ‘a One by one the boys rode past till all four had gone speeding through the woods, and the two ruffians drew a deep breath of relief. ‘Well, we was dead ries said -the big man. ‘(I dunno,’’? chuckled the other. ‘“Them was oie fine bisuckles w ‘at the youngsters was ridin’ of.”’ ter hear: them afore they was right onter us, pal,”” — ¥ re ee Stet ha Su ESS iw. Sree oes 3 ae FRANK MERRIWELL’S CLOSE CALL. . ‘Ven; but there was too many of | the kids. ’* *‘All ther same dey was kids, an’ ther twoo’us could scared ther life outer feeds “In your wmind,’’ Frank Merriwell. “Wat?’? shouted the big man. “Why, this young gent is gittin’ real chipper. If he gits toospry, I'll Jes’ ump him on ther head wid somet’ing hard, an’ dat will fix him.’ The boy heard these words, and under- stood. He had been robbed of his strength by the shock of the fall, and he realized that he could not fight against such odds, which led him to simulate a state of utter helplessness. All the while, however. Frank was tak- ing in every word uttered by his captors, and he was studying their appearance through his half-closed eyelids. “T'll know them when [| again,’’ he thought. The men went through Frank’s pockets aud took all the money and _ valuables came faintly from they could find; but there were two secret ‘poekets under the lad’s arms which they did not discover. Had they found these pockets, Frank might have attempted to make a fight for it, for each pocket car- tied a certain number of bank notes of large denomination. *T rudder t*ink yer have hurt der young gent pritty hard, Pink,’’ said Bob. ‘““He don’t seem ter have much life in him.”’ _ **He’ll come roun’ all right w’en we’re eeome. declated.the big:.aman.::. ‘*1 t’ought he was goin’ ter be all right too quick, so I’d hev ter give him anodder t’ump, an’ it wasa good t’ing he hed sense enough ter keep still till we was t’rough —~awid him.’’ hen, having relieved the boy of all _ his money and valuables, as they sup- _ posed, the tramps—tfor tramps they were —atrose, took the bicycle between them, and departed through the woods, leaving _ Frank where they had dropped him. CHAPTER IV. ae THE ‘PRAMP’S CAMP. _ The boy lifted his head and watched the ruffians depart with his wheel. | “Weill, this is a jolly go!’ he mut- %; meet them i [tered, ruefully. ‘‘The fall from that | bicycle knocked the breath and strength ‘out of me. ‘This is the result. But don’t ‘think for a moment that I propose to lose my wheel in such a manner.’’ As soon as the men were far enough |away, he arose to his feet, although it cost |him an effort, and began to follow them, ‘exercising the greatest caution. Frank had studied the ways of West- 'ern hunters and Indian trailers, and had |acquired in an astonishing manner the ‘ability to slip silently through a piece of ‘timber, taking advantage of every avail- able cover to protect him from the eyes ‘of his enemies, in case they should turn ‘and look back. | ‘I wonder where those fine fellows are 'taking my wheel ?’’ he speculated, as he |crept along. ‘‘They are striking directly ‘away from the road. Well, I'll have to find out.”’ Beyond the wood was a strip of corn, ‘and through this the men made their 'wav to another piece of timber. Frank followed as closely as possible. For no more than a few seconds at a ‘time were the men out of the boy’s sight. ‘At last, he saw them approach a spot ‘where a small fire smoldered in the cen- tre of the thick grove. Seated and lying about the fire were ‘several men, and their ragged clothes, ‘unkempt beards and general air of disre- 'gard as to their personal appearance pro- ‘claimed them to be tramps. , _ As the two ruffians approached they iwhistled in a peculiar manner. This | whistle was answered by one of the men ‘near the fire. _ As Bob and Pink came up, bearing the \bicycle between them, some of the ‘tramps who were not asleep stared at the ‘wheel with curiosity, and one fellow Stopped gnawing at a chicken-bone long jenough to ask: _ ‘Where did ye purchase that article, | pals ?”” : | ‘Oh, we traded wid a gent w’at was out takin’ his mornin’ constertooshernal ion it,’? grinned Bob. ‘‘He didn’t seem ito care for it much, an’ we got it at a | bargain.’ | | A man who was smoking a black pipe removed the stem from his mouth long :enough to observe: 12 PRANK ‘“‘Tt’s plain ye’ve got stuck with an in- ferior grade of wheel. That make is no good. You’d better ketch ther feller, an’ see if he won’t take it back.”’ ‘What d’yer want. of it~ anyhow?’ asked a third man, who was strete oe on his back, with his head on a ] log, which served as a pillow. ‘“‘It won’t vo without pushin’, an’ that’s too much resting sina } A >} i + work.’ “It’s better than walkin’,’’ said~ Bob, good-naturedly “Walkin’!” “contemptuously eried the man with his head on the log. ‘*Who walks? When I go any distance, I have me special car, as you all know. For shorter trips, why, I call ther coachman and have me rig brought round. What is walkin’, anyhow ?”’ “Well, if ther t’ing runs too hard, why, we kin sell it,’’ said Pink. “Tn yer mind!’ derisively cried the man with the pipe. ‘‘Who’d pay yer anyt’ing fer it? If you was to offer it for sale, ye’d be nabbed by an officer, an’ psy locked up fer stealin’. “Well, then,’’? laughed t’row it in der river wien we ther blooming t’ing.”’ ‘“Ye may git inter at all,’?’ said ‘the man with Bob, ‘‘we’ll gits tired 0’ trouble by havin’ it the chicken- bone. ‘‘What you want to bother with that sort of thing for is more than J can understand. Very little curiosity was displayed as) to the manner in which the bicycle came | It | into the possession of the two rufhans. was plain that the others believed they had stolen it. With their rough-looking fellows slept on, regard- less of the arrival of Bob and Pink and the conversation that was taking place. The new arrivals looked around, then, leaning the bicycle against a tree, threw themselves on the ground. ‘“That’s right,’’ said the man with the pipe; ‘‘inake yerselves.to home at the Hotel de Bum. I believe ye registered last night. Which way are you gentlemen from ?”? “The South,’? answered Pink, quick- lv, winking at Bob, who grinned and reinained silent. ‘“Von’re gittin’ up late, the smoker. ‘‘Whiat part of ther 9 commented South l\did v 14 q1aq ye wint iat ther Ponce de Leon w ‘niggers down there, an’ ‘if he don’t take exercise, an’ MERRIWELL’S CLOSE CALL. rin? I was down in Flo a part of the winter, takin’ in St. Augus= tine, Worth, Palm Beach, an’ ail ther fashionable places. I spent a very pleasant winter meetin’ iny — sassi€ty friends frum the North down that way.” ‘*T don’t care much clared Bob, with his usual chuckle. Augustine ain’t so bad; an’ I allus stops ‘en I’m there® ther feed gits so had Then there’s fleas $4254 Fleas don’t bodder some PP Lake ly 39 #) Floridy,’’ des bbe © fer furder south it me tired. down that way. but takes folks, but they are very disagreeable fer me. I was down in New Orleans this winter. Great place that.”’ : ‘It’s all right at Mardi Gras,’’ said the man with the pipe, loftily; ‘‘but 7% dead slow at other times. Too many too poor cooks. down that way exercise is Then a feller gits malary 'work. Chills an’ fever is sure to tackle tis | Wall ‘sonville this winter. hats over their faces, two | and | Northerners if we hang round New Of- leans too long.’?’ ‘‘Whisky is good for the man by the log. **Vep,’? nodded the smoker. ker, an old friend of imine, He had ther way he was rattlin’ ie ee he’d struck old St. Vitus; ‘Hello, W ae says J. ‘Wat's ther mat: | ter with 1 er? ‘Nuthin’s ther matter with me, Bill, says he, just this, way. ‘In shakin’ fer ther Sritikes: that’s all,” says he. An?’ neither of us had ther pricé ‘in our clothes ter git ’em,’’ concluded ithe tramp, with a sigh. | This made Bob think of a funny story, and he told it. [hen the man who had ‘been gnawing at the chicken-bone flung it into the bushes, wiped his mouth with ithe back of his hand, begged a chew 'tobaeco from the smoker, | Pink to sing a song. that,’’ observed “Sl. at at Jack- em’, aie his bones made ‘say- Pink didn? t seein to care to sing, ing that he did not feel like it, but he consented at last, and these are the words of the song he sang, tenor of good range, although clear, by any means: Oh! jolly and free is the life of the tramp, As he roams over valley and hill; The sun is his fire, and the moon is his lamp, And ’tis nature that settles the bill. re et < and urged = his voice being a= it was not t FRANK MERRIWE! And he drinks at the fountain and rill; For he comes and he goes at his will, And under the hedges he hides from damp, When the winds of the evening are chill. i the | | fic lives at his ease, and he feasts like a lord, And never a cent does he pay, For the foals will work on, and their labors | afford “ | The means for his pleasure and play. Then let them go toiling awav In the dust and the heat of the day— The tramp can lie down to his rest on the | sward, While the farmer grows weary and gray. | On! what is the use to toil till the cramp Of old age has distorted the frame— ‘ill death in his mercy just puffs out the} lamp AAS he pities the wavering flame? Phen pride in its folly may blame, And slaves wear a blush at the shame; For me I will live and I'll die like a tramp, And be proud to acknowledge the name. The singing had awakened the sleepers, and they srunted their lazy appreciation when the song was finished. ‘There’s nuttin’ like it,’’ nodded one. ‘I'd rudder be a tramp than a million- aire If I was a millionaire, I’d be wor- ried sick takin’.care of my wealth, an’ then just think of ther work I’d have ter do cuttin’? cupons off government bonds! Them millionaires lead a dog’s life. They'd oughter give away their’ money, an’ turn tramps, so they ’d enjoy life.’ ‘Tf you hears about any o’ ’em as| contemplates doin’ anything o’ ther kind, jest let ine know,”’ grinned Bob. ‘‘I’ Hh tackle him for a whack at his dust. Mebbe outer sympathy fer ther poor devil, I’ll change places wid him.’ Near at hand Frank Merriwell was watching this singular scene, and listen - ing to the conversation. He had heard | the song, and the manuerin which it was | rendered convinced him that Pink had not always been a tramp, for his lan-! ‘guage and his pronunciation were good) when he sang, for all that he used such a. decidedly illiterate dialect in conver- sation. . . Frank’s eyes gleained as they rested on | his wheel, which he was determined to) ‘recover. His strength had returned, and | with it came a feeling of anger and des- _ perate resolve. : — Spat his fingers into. a secret ‘ c llow claimed. concealinent, | tra 'Frank, smiling serenely. “manner. Card a) iL’S: CLOSE CALL. had res- which he had pocket, and felt the tiny ball ‘been given him by the man cued from the railroad track. “The tramp’s token,’ ‘*1]] try and see if it will do all the fel- fnot, I’1] make’a break to get away with the wheel somehow.’ Then he stepped from his place of and boldly walked into the call p. he thought. mips’ CHAPTER. V. POWER OF THE SPOTTED BALL. The tramps looked up in amazement las the boy coolly walked into the camp. |'Bob and Pink uttered exclamations of ! . |astonishment and anger, and leaped to | their feet. ‘“How do gentlemen ?’’ said ““T thought I'd come round and call for my wheel and other things. Don’t disturb yourselves, ] beg of you. This nonchalance seemed to take “the men aback, and they stood staring stu- pidly at the boy. ‘Eh?’ said the man with which he poised in the air. you??? 3 ‘“‘T am the owner of this bicycle, sir.’’ “Derned if he ain’t follered j?? you do, the pipe, “Who be WSs ‘growled Pink, fiercely. Bob nodded. “That's wat he has, better kept away.”’ By this time all the tramps were on their feet, and they were regarding the boy in a manner that was anything but reassuring. They were wgl)-appearing pal; but he’d fellows, and the faces of the most of them ‘told that they would not hesitate at any sort of crime. Still, if Frank felt at all alarmed, he, easily concealed his feelings, seeming utterly unmoved by their threatening He saw they were edging about ‘to surround him, and he moved close to the bicycle. The man with the pipe snarled at Bob aud Pink, telling them they were fine chaps to get the gang into that sort of a_ scrape. ‘To this the ruffians made no answer, but their manner showed = | were angered and aroused. ; The boy a enough of the conver- 14 sation that was going on around him _ to realize that he was in danger, as the tramps believed he intended to make trouble for them. ‘“‘T trust the gentlemen who borrowed my wheel have used it as much as they desire,’’ said the boy, ‘‘for I am now in ueed of it myself.’’ ‘Jump him, Bob!’ grated Pink. ‘‘We’ll have ter settle ther chap this time | for good an’ all.”’ Frank saw they were on the point of making a rush at him. “Stand back!’’ he suddenly cried, ina commanding manner, making a spring, and placing his back against a tree. “Don’t try to touch me!’’ Bob laughed, but it was not a mirthful sound. ‘“Ready, pals!’’ cried Pink. o at him all togedder.’’ ‘We'll o > Then Frank suddenly flung up one) hand, holding something between the forefinger and thumb. That something was a small black ball, covered by reddish | spots and queer hieroglyphics drawn in. white lines. ‘*Stand back!’ he cried again. ‘‘Look at this! Now—now touch me, if you dare !”’ : The rough men stared at the peculiar token, and the boy saw a change come over them. spectful. ‘It is ther spotted ball!’ exclaimed the man with the pipe. ‘‘That lets him out all right, all right.’ Pink cursed breath, and Bob forgot to laugh. ‘“Where did ye git it, young feller?’ asked one of the tramps. “That is nothing to you,’’ returned Frank, boldly, seeing that the queer little ball had been recognized as a token by the men. ‘‘I have it, and that is quite enough.’’ Nol << snarled Pink -.-- “St amt! enough! Yoi must have stole it. Give a it up!’ He rushed forward, and tried to snatch the ball from Frank’s hand. Then it was that, with a swinging blow, into which the young athlete put all his strength, Merriwell caught the FRANK MERRIWELL’S CLOSE CALL, They paused in their tracks, | and then they suddenly grew very re-| savagely beneath his ituffan a blow on the chin, lifting lim off his feet and hurling him backward. Pink struck on his head and shouldets, the wind going out of his body with a great puff, and lay stretched on the ground, without offering to get up. It was a genuine prize-fighter’s blow, and the tramps gasped with unspeakable ainazement when they saw the big ruffian hurled through the air in such a manner. Merriwell was young in years, but, youth though he was, it immediately be- icame plain that he was not a harmless ‘sort of lad to fool with. |a terrible blow, as he had readily demon- He could strike strated. “‘It served him right,’’ said the man |with the pipe, giving the fallen tramp a kick. ‘snatch ther spotted ball.’’ ‘‘He had no business ter try ter With this the other tramps agreed, with the exception of Bob, who hastened to lift his friend’s head, saying: “Git up, Pink! Be yer hurted much ?”’ Pink opened his eyes and stared around in a blank manner. ““Hurted!’’ he mumbled, as if his tongue were bentumbed. ‘“‘T feels like I, had been blowed up by dynermite! Wat did he strike me wid ?”’ peas 3 2 ‘Well, w’at did he have hid in his fist ?”” “Nuttin’.”’ y ‘‘Now, don’t go fer ter tell me that! No youngster like him could knock me silly wid one belt o’ his bare fist# He must uf hed knuckles on. ’% It was quite impossible to convince Pink that he had not been struck with anything heavier than a boy’s fist. At the same time, he did not seem to care about getting within reach of Merriwell’s hand again. The appearance of the spotted ball and ‘the boy’s readiness to defend himself ‘cause the tramps -to regard their visitor with the greatest respect. The man with the pipe took off his wretched old hat, and bowed with exag- gerated politeness, as he said: ‘Welcome, partner—welcome to ther Hotel de Bum. If yer care ter stay, ye shall have ther best room on ther ground floor, with all ther modern conveniences that ther house affords.”’ ; oo pe | «al = by am 3) ; : : *, 2 § * FRANK MERRIWELL’S CLOSE CALL. 16 “Thank you,’’ laughed Frank, in an| wouldn’t mind it much but for the fact that easy manner. ‘‘I don’t think I'll stop, as I happen to be in a hurry; but, if you do not mind, I’ll take my valuables, which happen to be in the possession of the clerk these.”’ He pointed at Pink, who was standing aloof, feeling of his chin in a doubtful wav, as if he feared his jaw had been broken. *“‘Mr. Jones,’’ said the man with the pipe, ‘Swill you hand over the young gent’s valuables? An’ you, Mr. Joyce, if you have any of them, yer want ter cough ’em up.’’ This was said in a manner that made it acommand, ‘The two tramps who had assaulted and robbed Frank hesitated and muttered, as if they were iuclined to re- fuse to boy. The man with the pipe made a lazy sort of signal, and the other tramps began to gather around Bob and Pink, their man- ner showing they were ready to do as they should be directed. The cornered ruffians saw things had turned against them, and they reluctantly began to disgorge. Everything they gave up was immediately handed over to the owner, and he was politely asked to make sure nothing had been reained. Frank would have been well satisfied to recover his wheel, and he was far better satisfied to regain possession of everything that had been taken from him. ‘Well, I didn’t do such a bad turn for myself when I saved the tramp from being kill by the railroad train,’’ was his mental decision. When everything had been returned to the boy, the leader of the tramps politely expressed regret if he had been put to any. trouble, and hoped that he would not see fit to cause any unpleasantness by report- ing the affair to the authorities. More than that, he was informed that he need not fear being molested by tramps if he retained the spotted ball and promptly showed it on the proper occasions. Frank was rather doubtful of the sin- cerity of the tramps up to the moment when he was permitted to take his wheel and leave the grove. “This was a queer adventure, to say the least,’’ he muttered, as he trundled the bicycle through the field of corn. ‘‘I J am sore between the shoulders, where |that ruffian’s club struck when I was | knocked from the wheel, and the shock | of falling was rather severe. ”’ | He reached the road, mounted his |wheel, and rode away. As he rode along, he thought over | his late adventure. He felt that he would | remember the two men who had attacked |} him, and he was confident he had heard 'their names before. Joyce and Jones. He repeated the names over and over, and theif; of a sudden, he remembered. The tramp who had _ been tied to the track had said that the names of the men who tied him there were Joyce and Jones. He had said that Joyce was a jolly chap who told funny stories, and Jones was a beautiful singer. As Frank was peering into the tramps’ camp, he had heard Joyce tell one of his funny stories, and Jones had been induced to sing a song. ‘““They are the very. ruffians!’’ he cried. ‘‘There isn’t a doubt of it! They ‘must have traveled by rail to get here |ahead of me, but here they are. If Briggs | were here, I’d spend time enough to put him after them.’’ But Briggs was not there, and he rode jon, little thinking he would ever see | Joyce and Jones again. But he had not seen them for the last time. When Frank regained the highway, he hastened to mount and pedal after his friends, and he found them returning to look for him. ‘‘Well, hay I be banged—I mean may 'I be hanged!’ cried Rattleton. ‘‘I’d like to know how we missed you!’’ Frank laughed, and then, as the boys turned about and rode along with him, he told them of his recent adventure. Diamond was highly indignant, and wished to have the tramps punished, but Merriwell declared they could not afford to waste time to bother with the ruffians. ‘*How in the world did you get out of the scrape, Merry ?’’ asked Jack. “By aid of the tramp’s token—the spotted ball.”’ ‘‘How did that aid you ?’’ ‘*T showed ‘t, and that was all that was necessary. I was treated with the greatest consideration immediately.’ MERBIW E that ?’’ lo FRANK “Well, how asked Harry. “The only explanation I can give is do you explain that there must be some sort of secret or- | der or organization among the tramps, and that whoever carries one of those spotted balls is guaranteed from injury by any of the order. ‘ I have heard of such an organization. ’’ ‘'Well, if dat ain a fac’,’’ cried Toots, dis chile am gwine teh make spotted balls by de cord. Dey am mighty goot things | teh have ’roun’ yeh close, chilluns.”? CHAPTER VI. Lath RUNAWAY. A day later Frank and his friends were riding toward a town ‘not more than| twelve miles from St. Louis. The boys were in the best of spirits, | and they ; aled along. Frank was rather shoulders, but he did not mind that, and his jolly sallies kept the others laughing. Along the road caine a carriage, drawn by two handsome horses. In the carriage sat a man and a little girl. . The girl was very pretty, but there was a haughty, overbearing air about the man, who was portly and flashily dressed. The horses were high-spirited, and the road net very wide at the point where the bicy and pass. ‘*Get out of the road there!’’ cried the | arrogant manner, scowling at | \from the turned | man, in an the boys. And then, as Bruce Browning out saiagiek That slowly, the man reined the | horses toward him, and Bruce escaped | with some difficulty by leaping from his | ioked aud laughed as they ped-| & / lame between his! clists and the carriage must meet | LL’s CLOSE CALL. all,”? said Harry. - ‘“They crowd’ hint ‘every fance they chind—no, every chance they find.”’ Bruce brought his wheel road, and examined it tomake sustained no damage. ‘and he mounted, after repeatedly express- ing a desire to follow the man and ‘“‘havye an argument’? with him. The boys were taking their time, am ibefore they entered the village, thes | heard horses’ hoofs and wheels behind once more came the shotif back to thie sure 1t-ha It was all right Ithem. Then, |for them to get out of the road. Looking back, they saw the same span | approaching, driven by the saine stéat | mz au, to whose arm the little girl was I clinging. The hot blood flushed Jack Diamond’s |face, and the spirit of the young Virgm lan was aroused, ‘eae you ruin over me, it will cost: 5 | something x!’ he flung back. |. An angry retort leaped from the man’s lips. He. said something about ‘‘ing- lence,’’ and then reined the horses towatd Jack, although the road was wide enough at that point for him to pass with ease. Jack’s hand went into his pocket aid came out in a twinkling. In his grasp was a big oe one of a number that he carried for the purpose of scaring off idogs that might become troublesome. 'His hand was lifted, and he flung the torpedo directly beneath the feet of the horses, There was a flash of fire; asharp re- port, snorts of alarm, a scream of terror child and an exclamation’ of alarm and anger from the man. Then the frightened horses leaped away, nearly lupsetting the carriage. In another mo- ment they were running madly down the wheel and running out by the roadside. | road, dragging the rocking carriage along One of the carriage wheels grazed the tire | at alarming speed. of the rear wheel “of Browning’ s bicycle. ‘*Well, confound that big hoe!’ aneri-| ) 5 > > as he turned ‘Why, he tried | Bruce, the team. ly exploded stared after and | mals. Frank Merriwell instantly saw that the man had lost control of the spirited ani- The scream of terror, from the | pretty chld and the look of fear on her in- to run over me! I’d like to punch his fat | nocent face appealed to him, and away he head!” it,’? said Frank, action of the unknown man. | darted j in hot pursuit of the runaways. ‘And [T wouldn’t mind helping you do} The child continued to shriek, while who wasindignantat the|the man made desperate efforts to check | the frightened horses, but they seemed to ‘‘Some persons seem to get an ideathat/run faster and faster with each passing a bicycle rider doesn’t have any rights at} moment. : The other lads started in pursuit, but !show the ~. they were not so quick in getting away, and Frank had a long lead. The hoofs of the horses tore up the| dirt, and Merriwell’s nostrils were filled with dust. fam in the Jeast, for, This did not retard | with firmm-set mouth and resolute face, he bent over the handle- | bats and made the wheel fly over the yoad. zac was determined to overtake the | \ ‘tinaways and do what f sihe frightene danimals. If harm came the little girl Frank felt that Jack wonld be to blaine, and he knew the young Vir- inian would never forgive himself for tirowing that torpedo. ‘f Fortunately the road was clear, and ‘ the horses dashed straight ahead after that A fitst wild swerve: But they added to each a @ther’s terror by their companionship, See etd it seemed that a hand of iron could mot check them. Frank made wonderful tye boy rau the forward wheel of his bi- evele under the back of the carriage. ae Then he nerved. himself for an almost ; Superhuman effort, knowing that the f slightest mistake would hurl Jani into the ap) i dust of the road. Bee Like a flash, he lifted himself on his Machine and leaped! as carried the boy from the wheel into the ; wk of the carriage, where he clung. ie A moment later See cliild’s head and _ clutched the reins, ae snatching them from the nerveless hands 6f the frightened man. : Along the main street of the village galloped the horses, atid the villagers saw a spectacle that filled them with excite- ment and astonishment. «Prank Merriwell knew how to handle sthese horses,.and he realized that they eomid not be subdued in a moment. He gathered in the reins, winding them about is hands, and then he brought all his Siiperb young strength into play. The frightened animals had grasped thewits with their teeth, and skill as well | © as$Strength was required to get control of ‘ . then. i ‘Frank talked to them soothingly, his voiée like liquid music. He endeavored to | PRANK MERRIWELL’S CLOSE CALL. and eyes | speed he could to check | to | frightened istreet, pray speed, and the eae “4 Sig oe ood Olitskirts of the village were reached when |a collisicn was averted by It was a most amazing spring, and it) ‘Frank went over the | ‘ing sweetness of his voice. 17 creatures that he was their mas- at the same time, he did every- allay their fears. He did not yank them, and yet he checked their vith strong surges. Fortunately they had not begun kick- ing, aud the boy labored to check them without leading them to use their heels, as that. was what he feared most. The man had been amazed by the ap- |pearance of the boy, as he had not dreamed that one of the bicyclists could overtake the carriage and get intoit. It seemed a matvel that Metriwell should come vaulting over the cana of the child and clutch the reins. Luckily the little girl to scream, an ased to add to iter, and, | thing to Frank became too d so her shrill voice ce the terror of the | horses, Frank held the animals to the straight ng that the way might remain clear before them. An old farmer was slow about getting his team and himself out of the road, and scacrely more than a hair’s breadth. Jack Diamond, riding like the wind, flashed along beside the carriage, and cried: ‘Ts there anything I can ‘*Keep away !”? That was all the answer Frank imade, but Jack understood and obeyed. Through the village lunged the run- aways, but the boy was beginning to get them under control. ‘*Whoa, my _ beauties,’’ sounded his clear, musical voice. ‘‘Steady, boys! There is nothing to be afraid of, ponies. Whoa, now—w hoa, boys! You are kick- ing up a dust, but it? s time to calm down. Hasy, there—easy, now. So—that’s bet- ter. Whoa, who-o-oa!’’ do, Merry ?”’ sooth- The horses heard, and they began to show less ter- ror. Little by little they calined down, It is impossible to describe the ‘reassured and quieted by the lad’s voice, tather than conquered by his strength. And the big man in the carriage, the owner of those )orses, clung to the seat \and the little gir, filled with wonder by what had occurred and what was taking place. And so, in a short time, Frank brought 18 them to a walk, finally stopping them entirely. Then he placed the reins in the | hands of the big man, and, with a light laugh, as if the incident had been most | enjoyable, leaped to the ground, where | he removed his cap’ and bowed to the lit- tle girl, who was sobbing and clinging to) the man. ‘“There is nothing to be afraid of now, dear Little Blue Eyes,’’ he said. ‘‘*The danger is all over, and the horses will | not run away again.’’ There was a gurgle in the fat throat of | the man, and he glared at the boy. His'| face, which had been bloodless and Jead- | colored, began to flush and grow purple | in an angry, unhealthy manner. ‘CA nice piece of business, this!’’ he | grated, his rage showing in his eyes. “They would not have run away in the) first place but for you and your gang of| hoodlums!’’ Now Frank did not like the man’s manner, his tone, or his words. The) laughing look fled from his face, lips closed over his white teeth. For a) moment he looked the big man straight in the eyes, and then he coldly said: ‘We are not hoodlums, sir, and you are the one who is to blame for this _entire affair, as you verv well know.’ ‘*What’s that ?’’ huskily cried the man. ‘Why, you insolent young scoundrel! do you dare— It’s too much!”’ Words seemed to fail him, stopped, gurgling and choking. ‘‘Ves, I dare,’’ said the boy from Yale, and it was plain that\he was not in.the least awed by the big man. you that you are one of those offensive human beings who seem to think they own the earth. You will impose on any one who has not the nerve or the strength to resent it, and you made two outrageous attempts to run over members of my party a short time ago; but this time you stacked up against the wrong people, for we do not propose to be run over by the President of the United States, or the Czar of Russia—much less by such a per- son as you. We.are boys, it is true, but we can lock out for ourselves, you bet!”’ By this time Jack Diamond was on and he and his ‘*T dare tell | FRANK MERRIWELL’S CLOSE CALL, | your horses had thrown you out and 'broken your neck!’ burst from the hot- | blooded Virginian, “And but for this little girl, whose pretty face filled me with a desire to save ‘her from harm, I should have left you to take care of your own runaway horses,”’ ‘declared Frank. | ‘I could have taken care of them all right,’’ rasped the big man, in great fury. “Tt would have been better if you had ‘minded your business and let me alone.’’ “Why, vou thick-headed old chump!’ exploded Harry Rattleton, who had come up in time to hear the man’s final words. “Tf Merry had let you alone, those horses would have smashed the carriage and ‘It’s four to one that Merry saved your life, flasted bool—I mean blasted fool that ; you don’t know it!’’ That was more than the man could ~ ‘endure, and he uttered words that would 5: ‘not look well in print. a ‘““You insolent young whelps do not > know who I air!’ he shouted. i “And we don’t care a rap, don’t you — know,’’ drawled Bruce Browning, who had artived. ““Dat’s right,’? nodded Toots. ‘‘Yo’ lain’t de only one, ma-an—dere am od-, ders. Yo’ ain’t de only peanut in de shop —yo’ kin be roasted. ” My name is Lyman Lawrence, and ;- . (am a justice of the peace,’ declared the ‘big man! ‘If you do not get out of this town in short. order, I?ll have you all ar- rested and fined.’ ‘*Dat is, the colored boy. ‘‘Be quiet, Toots,’’ ordered Frahk:: ae ‘*Ror what would you fine us, sir?’’ : ‘*Por carrying concealed weapons. ’’ a we do not carry concealed weap: ons.’ a pistol and scared my horses.”’ ieee ‘“That’s where you are mistaken,”’ con- oe tradicted Jack. ‘‘Isimply threw a tor-_ pedo, which I carry for the purpose OT 2 frightening away ugly dogs.”’ “Well, you frightened my horses, iy way,’’ grumbled the man, ‘‘and Pil have - hand, and the other boys were approach-| you all arrested if you dare show your ing. Jack was angry. “It would have served you right if i heads back in the village. That seitee ithrown out yourself and the little girl! 3a if yo’ kin find us,”’ grinned Be ‘‘T know better! That chap | there fired = a ‘i a “The world is made up of all sorts and 2 ae ~ aif the whole thing were “*fellow. FRANK Then, finding a wide place in the road, he turned his team about, and drove toward the village. CaP TER. Vij. DHE TRAMPS APPEAR “Well, he 1s a nice sort of old ¢ sait!’’ exclaimed Rattleton, in disgust, as the boys watched the depart- 1g Cattiage. “He's a gin’wine gemimans—I don’ think!’’ observed Toots, in ludicrous SCort. “Tt would do him head punched,”’ Mis lazy way ; to punch it.” ’**Such creatures make claimed Diamond, hotly. Frank’s face relaxed, and he siniled, as a most aitusing joke, which he alone appreciated. “It’s no use to be hot over it,’’ hes AGAIN. luffer— good to have his drawled Browning, in “and it would do me good me sick!’ ex- said. “conditions of men. We are sure to run up against unpleasant persons on our so- journ through life.’’ “Well, you have a way of looking at such things that I cannot understand,’’ declared Jack. ‘“‘T never know whether Vou are going to laugh over anything as a joke, or let yourself out and knock the stuffing out of somebody. I have known vou for some time, Merry, but I am free to confess that Ido not comprehend you vet. don’t believe you are built like other fellows.’ “Why should we all be built after the Saise pattern ?’’ was the laughing ques- tion. ‘‘It takes all kinds of men to make up a world, and variety among human -beimgs is as interesting as variety in other things.’’ feat am a fac’,”’ @ Saye expression. ; ~“T believe in every person being him- seli,”’ Frank went on. ‘‘If there is any- thing on earth that makes me weary it is the chap who tries to imitate some other Such a chap lacks originality lacks distinctiveness, lacks force, and is nodded Toots, with thing he does all his life. You may be supreme MERRIWLLL’ back | startling the world just now, ; ithat old bloke has treated tus.’ lany more,’ 5S CLOSIs **Well, CALL. 13 about said Bruce. is the way we are not thinki ‘What we are thinking about ‘‘{ do not propose to think about that said Frank “Tt is all over now, and 1t’s not we'll have likely any further dealings with him.’’ “‘[ don’t know about that,’’ Jack de- clared. ‘‘Your wheel is beside the road beyond this town, where I told Toots to put it, and we must go back through the town, in order to recover it.’’ “That is all right.” “It’s all right; but you will remember that Mr. Lyman Lawrence has threat- éned to have us arrested if we dare show ourselves in the place.”’ ‘‘And it struck me that Mr. Lawrence was putting up a big bluff when he made that remark.”’ ‘You do not beheve he his threat ?”’ will make good “No. v9 ‘*J don’t know about that,’’ Rattleton hastily put in. ‘‘He is a vindictive old wreteh, and it might be just like lim to do so.”’ ‘“*T ain willing to said Frank. ‘An’ dis chile am wid yo’,”’ Toots, swaggeringly. ‘*Old Lawi rence seemed to think that he tuns the rown—I mean runs the town,’ hastily said Rattleton. ‘And, as police justice, he may be able to siike it unpleasant tor | us there,’ said Bruce. ‘All this makes me feel all the more like going back to see what he. will do,”’ smiled Frank. ‘An’ it jes’ meks me feel dat way too,’’ grinned Toots, who was determined to stand in with Frank. ‘‘T think we’d better said Jack. take chances on it,’’ declared go back boldly,’’ ‘It will not be good policy to let the nan think he has intimidated us in the least.”’ So the boys decided to return to the town. Jack hada step on his bievcle, and , on this step Frank stood with one foot, ‘while the Virginian worked the pedals. pretty sure to be an imitator in every-) In that manner they passed through, and found the rode back to town, bievele gure he’ll never startle the world by do-| where it had been left beside the To! ad. myself again,’ ing anything novel or original.” ‘‘Now I feel like ’ cried 20 FRANK MERRIWE his little mounted on has been a he was affair when COS Frank, wheel. diversion, tramps.’ ‘‘We must pass avain,’’ said Bruce. “That is. true) stop a while in. the town.”’ ‘Why oo? “Oh, just because I feel like it, that is all. It can’t be far from midday, and we might get something to eat here.’’ “By golly!’ cried the colored lad ; strikes dis chile jes’ where he libs! I’s so holler dat I kin feel de notches in iiah backbone ebery time I put mah han’ on mah stomach.’’ through ‘‘You carry around an appetite like an} alligator,’’ said Harry. “Dunno nuffin’ ’bout yeh allumegator, but I know dis ridin’ a bisuckle makes me feel lek I could eat ah fried bootleg sometimes. Dis am one of de times.”’ “And I am -aweary and aweary, sighed Bruce. I were in bed. yonder hamlet and bones of mine.’’ I feel like stopping in resting these weary wons—I mean weary bones! in derision. you keep ’em. any more ‘* Beary cried Harry, know where lieve you have jelly-fish.’? “‘Vou’d think I had a few bones if I, should take a’ fancy to push my fist up| under your ear once,’’ growled the big fellow. ‘What do you Jack ?’? asked Frank. bones thana. ‘‘T am willing to stop a while and see| what Mr. Lawrence will do,’’ said the} young Viginian, rather savagely. «AY right; stop it is,’’ cried Frank. They rode into town, stared at by the) citizens who had witnessed the runaway | and the pursuit of the by a number of curious oa dered dinner tor five. Later, they came out upon the veranda, | where they sat about in the shade, Brown-| stuiled Frank. | | ‘You'll be lucky if you ever ing smoking cigarettes and half dozing. Several village loafers had stopped at. tLL’S CLOSE 'about and the same as my encounter with | the town) and I have a fancy to| **dat | 'gave his name as Rufus Sap, said: in’ »»| York to San Francisco ?”’ “T am aweary, and I wish | “P)dojike to| I. don’t be- | Eau Ene ° | blamed old jay! say about stopping, thinks F | ‘*Keep still,” ordered Jack. so very strange that some old men who 'do not know much about bev cles should bicycle boys. | York,” he declared. Straight to the hotel they went, followed | i on 9 CLEe 1 1 7 the hands “Ists. stared at ome ulll- forms of the voung tour Frank sat down beside an old man, whom he spoke pleasantly, observing: ‘“You seem to have a_ rather pretty lit- itle village here.”’ : “Ya-as,’” was the moderate reply, “it’s )a purty good town. All the fauit there jis to find with it is that too many rich iinen live here. Where are you fellers ‘from ?”? | Frank answered the question, explain- ing that they were on their way across the continent, which caused the eyes of old an to open with wonder and ineréd- ‘ulity. The other gathered around, and their doubt. Some of them }other knowingly, and the old man, faces showed who ‘‘Now don’t try to fool with us. You ‘don’t want us to believe you boys are try- to ride them bisuckles from New ““Well;’? laughed Frank, “‘yvou | ‘*VYou never’ll do it!’ ; : ry} ‘*Why not ?*’ ‘“Too far;’? grunted Mr. Sap. “*We have ridden from New this place!’? ‘‘How is the ridin’ nowadays?’’ whimsically on the jamed old blay—I 1 muttered ainusement and anger. rank is stringing him.’ Harry, ( ‘He ‘mingled ‘think such a feat impossible.” Frank was ainused. ‘‘We have not found ride on the railroads since leaving New + an awful Mr. ) must have be ae i A oni “Well, yer ae | was off ‘ike tanad gris ‘Well, not quite so soon as s tha X Frisco. You can t ride over ‘the Roc hotel, gad. a eet of Pays Spee seouat 1 ins, aed Vl bet a go ood fat jh to’ curious townsmen had grinned at each” may: inot believe it, but it 1s quite true, justthe | same.’ “It qs not. it necessary to. 4 g the. : York to railroads. ~ asked the old lman. ‘I ain’t rid much for a long time;?? 2? mean the Niet you don’t git out to ’Frisco before first of next year.’’ ‘Did you observe that I was in the car- tiage of the man whose horses ran away aiid took him through town a short time ago?” ¥ es, f saw ye:”’ ‘And did you see my friends following at a speed quite equal to that of the run- we awa horses ?’’ at a great stick,”’ settler}. =" but tliey ’» he added, as “They was goin’ coufessed the old eouldu’t keep that up long, Wf that settled the matter. “Well, let me tell. you on my bicycle in pursuit of ‘ after the horses were running { took it, got into the carriage, stopped the horses.” ; Mr. that I started away, over- and finally Sap fairly gasped for breath. Fa "do that?’ he ratlfer angrily demanded. “Well, I ain’t no fool, if I man, and I won’t be imposed on by any Young upstart like you! You can tell your fish stories to them that will swaller Fein !”’ With that, he got up from his chair, rather stiffly, and, assisted by his cane, hobbled slowly and painfully away. Frank could not hold back his merry . laughter, and the other boys joined him 1 in his mirth. Some of the townsiolks laughed, and some looked angry as . _ they thought they were being guyed. SiR. | A young man took the chair vacated by ; Mr. Sap. a: “You . young man, retreating figure of the old settler. can’t understand that a bicycle is capable of such speed. He one of the aes mustn’t mind him,’’ said the is that modern progress is capable ducing things so vastly superior to any-| Heese thing ‘they had in his day, Frank sized the young iman oo: glance, $s who wished to display his up-to-dateness. | At the same time, Merriwell believed that | he could question the fellow, and so he =f ‘immediately said: **T do not mind any old person who is| set in his peculiar beliefs and convictions. SaBy the way, up FRANK MERRIW I the | that team | ae “Do you want me to b’lieve you could am an old fe if | istrange things, as you would discover, ‘you were to know him better.’ waving his hand toward the | ‘*He' ‘answering my questions. old- | timers, and he is not willing to believe | of pro-| lfollowed by at a) deciding that here was a person | around, | So the b I believe the naine of the | with a big Y on LL’S CLOSE CALL: 21 mman whose horses Lawrence ?’’ “That is right—Judge Lyman Law- one of the wealth jest men in the it is said. That smal] building over there is his office, and that fine house on the corner down there is his residence.’ ‘He must have some business besides that of police justice ?’ 3h, the owner of mine in Colorado. His mine if] all 1mmense income.’’ “Ts he a popular man in town: ‘Well,’ was the confidential reply, ‘he is not ex ay what you might call popular, but he has influence, and he is feared. Folks Sanaa here don’t care to get him down on ’eim.’’ C6 ran away is Lyman LeNGCS. State, a valuable brings him he is 93 I suppose the child I saw in the car- iriage with him is his daughter, is it not?” | ‘*Ves, sir—his only child. His wife is an invalid, and’’—the young man low- ered his voice—‘‘it is said she does not lead the happiest life imaginable with him. She has few friends, and she is sel- dom seen in his company. I have seen her, and I should say she was handsome when she was a young woman, but she has a very sad face now.”’ *““Does Judge Lawrence vear round ?”’ live here the ‘“Except when he goes to see about his mine.’? ‘*Does he zo often ?”’ ‘“Two or three times a year.”’ ‘“Why doesn’t he live out there ?’ ‘“T don’t know. He does a number of if ’ i said Frank, as he arose. do not care to know hii better,’’ ‘‘] thank you for Come on, fel- lows, let’s takea stroll about town.’ And then, before the young man could satisfy his curiosity by propounding ques- tions in return, Frank descended the steps, Rattleton, Diamond and ‘Toots. 3rowiing was seated in a comfortable | position, and he yawned: ‘““Go ahead, if you want to hoof it I think too much of my shoes to ar them out that way. | s0vs left the hotel without him. | They had drawn on their blue sweaters, the breast of each, and i we 22 they caused the townspeople to they sauntered about. There was not much of interest about the villaze to be seen, and they finally found themselves in the vicinity of the tailroad station, as a train of freight-cars caine in froin the Hast. As the train slackened speed in the vicinity of the station, the door of a car was thrust open, and two men caine fly- ing out, propelled by the boots of some. traininen who were in the car. The men struck the ground and_ fell sprawling, rolled over, and then got upon their feet, where they stood, fierce language pouring from their lips, while they shook their fists furiously in the air. Frank Merriwell saw the two men, and started. Then he looked closer, exclaim- ing: ‘‘So help me, I believe I know those fine fellows! I am sure of it! They are Joyce and Jones, the tramps!”’ AP TES VIUI. A MYSTERY SOLVED. Frank was astonished by tlre appear- ance of the tr amps. ‘‘Hanged if it doesn’t seem as if they are chasing me around!’’ he exclaiined. ‘I'd like to lodge them in the workhouse, or State prison, “where they belong.’’ “*Come, fellows,’’ said Merriwell, follow then. I’d like drubbing for the on me.’’ ‘We can do it in great shape, Rattleton, euthusiastically. puuch them a few times to pay thei for making us ride back to find you.’’ The tramps looked over their shoulders, and, seeing the boys cotning after them, increased their speed, turning down a side ‘street. running amid some sheds, and quickly disappearing from view. **Well, I scarcely think it is any use to attempt to follow them,’’ said Frank. “We'll go back to the hotel.’ A good dinner made the entire party feel better, but uone of them felt like hurrying away, for the dav was hot and. uncomfortable. After a consultation, it was resolved to remain there till the after-. noon became cooler. 7 Frank was restless, and he went out alone, leaving the others »» said stare as | “let's | to give them aie ee oa little trick they played | *S'SUTE') to the hotel. “Pd like to| ‘handsome there, Jones pointed out the house and those fellows to remain, FRANK MERRIWELL’S CLOSE CALL. Frank walked down toward the place where he had last seen the two traps. ‘Something seemed to tell him that the ruffians had not arrived in that place by chance. There were soine side-tracks about the station, and those tracks were well filled with empty cars. In the doorway of one of the cars the boy saw a colored man sit- ting, and he was talking to a white man, who was standing on the ground. That white man was Pink Jones, the tramp. For some reason, Frank felt a curiosity — to hear what the two men were saying, and he slipped up behind the car till he could catch some of their words. Almost the very first thing the boy could understand made him hold his breath with surprise and interest. Jones was asking the colored man about Judge Lawrence. How did it happen that the tramp knew Judge Lawrence? and why should he be seeking information concerning be judge? Frank hoped to overhear enough to ex- plain this, but he was disappointed, for Jones seennred to have Jearned all he de- sited to know, and he slouched away shortly after the boy had obtained a posi- tion to hear what was being said. Frank did not attempt to interfere with but let him go, returning Less than an hour later, happening to look down the street, he saw the two tramps pause in front of Lawrence’s home., Then, as they stood the judge’s office to Joyce. ‘‘Hanged if this isn’t getting more and ‘more interesting !’’ muttered Merriwell. ‘‘Something isin the wind. I wonder if contemplate robbing the judge?” He decided that they ning anything of the’‘sort, were not plan- for they were much too bold about their movements. Then Frank took a house of a woman who kept boarders. From a distance, he saw them call the | woman to the door and talk with her. some time. They offered her money, and, at last, she admitted them to the house. | notion to shadow’ the tramps, and he followed them to the _ around the hotel. : | It was by making inquiries that the boy found the woman sometimes kept! transient boarders. “They induced her to keep them by FRANK MERRIWELL’S CLOSE CALL. 23 He slipped up to the office, climbed |the little fence at the corner, and crept jnoiselessly round behind the building. spotting down their money in advance,’’|;There, beneath a window, he paused. No ‘decided Frank. “She did not like their|light shone from that window, but he appearance at first, and did not want to | distinctly heard the sound of excited have them in the house, but the sight of | voices. the money brought her round.”’ ‘Later in the day, when the boys ex- pressed their readiness The window was higher than Frank’s head, as the little building was set ona to resume the} high foundation. journey, they were not a little surprised | ‘‘Oh, for something to climb on— to hear Frank express a determination | something that will bring me up where I to remain in that place until the follow- ing morning. w19) can hear!’’ thought the interested lad. | He searched around and found a board, ‘All right,’? sighed Browning, in aj which he leaned in a slanting position contented way; ‘‘that satisfies me. need not hurry on my account.’’ Then he straightway sought a room, and, ten minutes after being shown to it, he was snoring on the bed. | You | against the building, directly beneath the |window. With the aid of this, he lifted | himself till his head was on a level with ithe lower sash. | Once there, Frank discovered how it _ Immediately after supper, without say-| was that he could hear the men within so ing anything to the others, Frank left/ plainly. A bit of glass was broken from the hotel. He hastened to the vicinity of the house where the tramps had sought and found lodging. Nearly an hour elapsed before any one came out, and then, as the door opened, the light of the hall lamp showed the boy that it was the two tramps. Frank followed them, and he saw them make their way directly to the lit- tle office of Judge Lawrence. The inside shutters of the little build- mg were closed, and there seemed to be "noone within; but one of the tramps knocked on the door in a peculiar man- ner, and, a moment later, that door was opened. Then the two men quickly entered the office. As may be imagined, Frank’s curios- ity was thoroughly aroused by this time, for he realized that the door had been opened in response to a secret signal, and that meant that the tramps had been ex- pected. Plainly, some person was waiting in that office to see them, and who could that person be, unless it were Judge Ly- man Lawrence? ‘“‘Here is a mystery!’’ muttered the boy. ‘‘If it was Judge Lawrence, why did he admit the tramps? Why is he having dealings with such creatures? I’d give a few dollars to get to the real facts of this affair.”’ ithe corner of one of the window-panes, |and that permitted the sounds to reach | his ears, although the inner shutters were tightly closed. Frank heard a man speaking excitedly ‘and angrily, and he instantly recognized | the voice as that of Judge Lawrence. The | words chained Merriwell’s entire atten- ition. | **T tell you that you have bungled this job!’’ Lawrence was saying, in an excited and angry growl. ‘‘You have madea miserable mess of the whole matter.”’ ‘““That’s where ye’re away off, jedge,”’ said Pink Jones, his tone shuwing he was exasperated. ‘‘We knows our biz, does Bob an’ I, an’ we cooked ther duck fer iyez all right, all right. Eh, Bob?” ‘Yer bet we did,’’ asseverated Bob. ‘*He’ll never bodder you no more, jedge, an’ we wants our dough.”’ ‘““That’s what we does,’’ from Jones, “‘Yer promised a hundred apiece if we’d cook his goose, an’ gave us fifty each in advance. Now, we wants ther rest of it, an’ we means ter have it. Yer can’t play funny wid us, jedge.’’ A fierce exclamation broke from Law- rence’s lips. “T tell you that you are bungling fools!’’ he snarled. ‘‘How did you do the job ?”? ‘Well, we jes’ tied ther duck ter ther railroad track, an’ let him stay there an’ 24 be chopped inter mince-meat by the night | express. yez inuch arter bein’ schawed up by ther wheels of an express train.’ ‘*Not a great deal,’’ agreed Bob, ‘‘Did you stay and see the express run | over hitn ?”? ay at was ther use? He was tied fast, an’ gagged. We didn’t want ter be found round them parts in ther mornin’ , an’ so we hoofed it in this direction.’ There was another snarl from Law-| rence, ‘“That was yourselves !”? you made fools of | **T hired you where he declared. to make sure of the job, as Clinton had | to be-| located me, and. was threatening come troublesome. You did it in a sloppy way, and it was a fizzle. Here—hereisa note I received this very day. I will read it, and then you may examine it your- selves.”’ Then the judge read aloud: Lyman Lawrence: Your dastardly scheme to destroy me aha thus save yourself from | my vengeance failed, and I still live—live to square the account with you. Your murder- ous hired tools did tie me to a and leave. me to my. fate, but I was saved from death in a marvelous manner. This makes me feel that fate is watching over moe fill I shall avenge . myself on you for the misery you have caused me. By a hie you robbed me of the woman I loved, and then, in fear of me, by a lie you caused me tobe thrown into a prison cell, where I remained for years. When I became free, I started to hunt for you. You had vanished, ‘but I located you at last. Foolishly, I warned you of my coming, and you sent. your mur- derers to put me outof the way. They failed. And now we shall meet face to face very soon. When we do, you shall not escape me. With deepest hatred, , Wallace Clinton, ‘There,’’ cried Lawrence, hoarsely— ‘‘there it is! Look atit—readit! Youcan see itis no forgery, for how should I know that you tied him to the track, so| that I could put it into writing to show | vou? Besides that, I would give two hun- dred dollars—yes, five hundred—this minute to know Wallace Clinton were dead! I would not yesort to this sort of a ruse to save a paltry hundred dollars. There followed some moments of si- lence, and then Bob was heard to slowly Says. Pal, at begins to look like we had made a slip.’? FRANK MERRIWELD’'S CLOSE railroad track | CALL. Pink began to rave, using the most I don’t t’ink he’ll ever bodder | shocking language. | “Tt warn’t our fault!’’ he cried. ‘‘We done our part of it all right. How could ‘the critter have got away ?”’ ‘*That I do not know,’’ said Lawrence ; i““but you can see that he did get away, and he is coming here. As soon as pos- sible, I shall start for another part of the ‘country. Now, I am going to give you ‘chaps one more chance to makea pull. To-night I will pay you twenty-five dol- ‘lars each, providing you agree to do your best to finally dispose of Wallace Clin- |ton.’ ‘That ain’t enough,’’ broke in Pink. ‘“Hold on,’’ sharply comimanded Law- lrence. ‘‘I am: not done. When you bring ine positive proof that Clinton is dead, I will pay you two hundred dollars each. You can’t ask for more. I want you to lagree to lose no time in completing the | work,’ ‘We'll do it!’’ cried both tramps te-~ gether. ‘‘You won’t have to worry about ithat. We’ll make sure’ next time, an’ | ther duck? be dead when we ‘calls on yer.’ 7 Eda put his mouth broken Square of glass, and distinctly cried: ‘‘And you will both hang for the job, together with Lyman Lawrence!” Then he dropped down lightly, slipped away into the dense darkness, satisfied that he had created a sensation and filled the hearts of the three villains with terror. ; close to the a | CHAPTER LX: FRANK’S CLOSE CALL. Early the following morning the young — = tourists mounted their wheels and | sped oe laway to the westward. | ’Phey crossed the Mississippi into St. | Louis, but did not spend more time there ‘than was required for Frank to visit the | Various newspaper offices, at each of which he left the following notice, to be inserted — as a paid advertisement : “WALLACE CLINTON BEWARE! ©. — “Your enemy, the man who hired — tramps to tie you to the railroad track, See to put you out of the way. They are to_ make sure of their work next time. “The One Who Saved You. re a and has again bargained with those ruffians - Wy? i ‘““’There,’’? muttered the boy, when this| was done, ‘‘I trust that will reach the | eves of the man it isintended for. I know | of no other way of warning him. Besides | this, I have written an unsigned warning | to Lyman Lawrence, telling him that his| mitirderous scheme is known, and that he) had better drop it. That may scare him so he will call his dogs off.’ Frank felt that he could do nothing siore.. He had found how influential Ly- man Lawrence really was, and he knew well enough that it would be impossible to make the general public believe such a) iaan could hire tramps to murder a tramp. _ None of the boys expected again to see the tramps or Judge Lawrence, with whom they had had such an unpleasant ad-. _yenture. Fortwo days they pushed onward ‘through Missouri. At last, late one after- noon, they found themselves making a/| desperate run to reach a certain town be-| | { - fore nightfall. | They paused to inquire the shortest | route of a man who was calmly smoking | \ANK MERRIWELL’S CLOSE CALL, 26 that. Come along with the rest of us. The road is good enough, and you will bump the stuffing out of your wheel rid- ing over the ties.”’ ‘1’l] take my chances on the wheel, ‘and I'll get in ahead of you.”’ ‘“The trouble with you is that you have the swelled head because you have beat- en us once or twice by taking some un- used road,’’ declared Rattleton. ‘‘Go ahead and rail the ride road—I mean ride the railroad! I am sticking to the high- way.’ ‘“That is what I want you to do,’ laughed Frank; ‘tand Iwill beat you into town.’’ ‘“Phis time is where you slip up, Merry,’? asserted Jack Diamond. ‘‘We’ll beat you into town, for you’ll soon get tired of bumping over the rails, and will take to footing it.”” ‘fAll right, if you think so. I'll try it, anyway.”’ They found he was determined to make the attempt. Then Toots wanted to ac- f 3 ‘ : | > hi aye : aoTee >a corncob pipe in front of a miserable hut. | Company him, but Frank would not agree me Wa-al,?’ drawled the native, ‘‘raound ito that, saying he might cut out a pace ; By ther road it is a right sinart distance, that would be too hot for the colored boy. © but the railroad over yon makes it} They parted, Frank mounting and rid- Straight. It ain’t night sofur by ther img along the track, heading toward a railroad. Wagon road ain’t none too good, | Tange of hills close at hand, while the oth- either. J reckon it’d been a heap sight | ers sped along the road. - better fer ye ef ye’d took ther train back e Frank soon found that the railroad was at Sage’s Station, ’stead of tryin’ ter ride indeed rough in places. Then he got out it on them there things.”’ .and took to riding. along the shoulder of He accompanied his concluding words the road, close to the ends of the ties. with a look of scorn toward the bicycles, | This was better, and he made good speed. COM ink we can make it before night??? The stn was low in the west when asked Frank. Frank reached the hills. He was surprised “(Not on them there things, I judge.’’ | to see that the range rose like a barrier in The boys thanked him, and rode on. advance, but still the railroad ran on as ‘It is plain he has a-very poor opinion ‘straight as a die. of bicycles,’’ said Jack. Inashort time he came to the black Frank said nothing, but it was plain by, mouth of atunnel. the expression on his face that he was| | Well, say! this is nice! he cried, thinking. Soon they came to the rai]-.| dismounting. “T do not mind riding inl toad, of which the man had spoken. \the night without a lantern—I prefer it— Frank stopped, dismounted, and took) but this is different. It will be pocket a look at the track. ‘To his satisfaction, | dark in there.” he saw that the cross-ties were buried) However, there seemned to be no other almost on a level with the road-bed. |way, and Frank did not feel like turning “‘T say, fellows,’’ smiled Merriwell, | back. “11 wager you that I take the railroad| ‘This can’t be a long tunnel,’’ he de- and beat you into town.”’ ‘cided ; ‘*so here goes.’’ ““Oh, come off!’ yawned Bruce. ‘‘You| He mounted and rode on slowly, but are always trying some such thing as, the darkness of the tunnel seemed inten- ’ 26 FRANK MERRIWELL'S CLOSE CALL. sified by the change from the outer air. | he meet a horrible death there in the tun- He crept along with the utmost caution, | nel? like a blind man, and then, after a little,| He strained his eyes for a glimpse of he dismounted, preferring to trundle his| light in advance. wheel. | All dark! He had not gone far before he realized; A feeling of horror and despair threat- that he would be caught in an awkward |ened to seize upon Frank, but he fought place if a train should happen along. Still|it with all his wonderful will. he would not turn back. | He was astonished by his fortune in Frank felt like a blind man as he crept | keeping to the track in such intense dark- through the tunnel. Several times he/ mess, and it almost seemed that an unseen fancied he heard a train approaching, but, baud was guiding him. pausing to listen, his heart in his mouth,! Within the tunnel the track was re- he concluded he was deceived. | markably smooth, which was a fortunate Finally, Frank _ paused, suddenly | thing indeed. stooped, found the rail, and placed his| The toaring increased, and Frank be- ear close to it. What he heard sent the! gan to feel that.the train was overtaking blood in an icy flood to his heart. (him with appalling swiftness. He was ‘““A train is coming!’ he gasped, as he | deafened by the volume of sound, and it leaped to his feet, ‘Which way ?)) | seemed that the train must strike him itt For a moment he stood there like one | another instant. turned to stone, seeming unable to move. | Still the desperate, panting lad exerted Then he realized that every moment was | all his strength in sending the bicycle precious. He had come far in the tunnel, ‘flying along. He would not think of giv- and it seemed that he would stand a bet-|ing up till the fatal crash came. ter chance by going ahead. Besides, it; Itseemed that he rode hours in the seemed that the train must be behnid him. | darkness of the tunnel, with that fright- Frank steadied his wheel, set the ped-|ful roar sounding in his ears, In truth, als right by touch, and made ready to it was but a few moments, yet it was not mount. 'strange that, in such frightful peril, every ‘Now be cool, old man.’’ he whis- | moment should seem an hour. pered. ‘“‘It is useless to get frightened.”’), *. om With deliberation, and yet without loss | brain, and he seemed to see strange visions. of time, he mounted his wheel. ‘Then he| He fancied he saw his own mangled and increased his speed steadily and surely, lifeless body lying in the tunnel after the seeming to find his way along in the in-' train had passed. tense darkness by instinct, YA sudden gleam ahead! It was the His ears were strained and his senses |OPE™78 of the tunnel. s acitte. Should he find the train was in| , With a prayer on his lips, Frank Mer- advance, he must turn about, although |riwell used all his remaining strength to there was scarce a chance that he could |S¢"4 the bicycle flying like the very wind do so and escape with his life itoward that welcome patch of light. Then, with startling suddenness, a roar-| ae ee i! meen ae aes Pu eee ing sound filled the place, and he knew|t#€ demon of destruction roared behin the train had entered the tunnel! | 4110. ion | And then—then Frank shot out into Chis knowledge caused the boy to Send | tie open air, with the train close upon the wheel spinning along at great speed, |, ; eh a | him. taking desperate chances. If he should be | thrown, it was almost certain that he! would be stunned, and he must remain on | the track to be crushed by the train. | The roaring grew more and more dis- | as possible, buniped over the rail, shot tinct, and Frank felt beyond a doubt that | down the bank, and fell exhausted from it was behind him. his wheel, the traiu whizzing past. It was a wild race for life through the, For alongtime the boy lay there beside ’ CHAPTER X. THE FINAL CRASH. darkness. Would the boy win? or wouldithe track. A prayer of thanfkulness Wild fancies flitted through the boy’s - Frank turned from the track as quickly eseaped his lips. out of the west with remarkable swiftness. ‘‘Come!’? he muttered, at last; ‘‘this will not do.”’ He arose, but his knees were still weak. After alittle, he picked up the bicycle, brought it back to the track, and mounted. Then he rode onward, wondering how far it could be to the town where he was to meet his friends. ‘““They will be there ahead of me, but I do not care,’’ he said. ‘‘I may consider mvself fortunate to get there at all.”’ He 10de slowly. The track ran through a@ valley, where it soon became very dark. As Frank was riding along he sawa gleam of light ahead, and heard the ring of iron upon iron. Then he saw some dark forms in the gleam of a lantern, and they seemed to be at work on the track. “Repairing,’’ muttered Frank. ‘‘ There must be something the matter with the track that causes them to work so late.’’ A moment later he was close upon them, and he rang his bell. Then the men consternation, but their alarm could not equal that of Merriwell, for he saw they wore masks over their faces. They were not track-repairers, but were train-wreckers! The men saw the boy, ‘and a shout broke from one of them: “Catch him! Stop him! Don’t let him get away !”’ They rushed upon Frank, grasped him, and dragged him from the bicycle. He flung them off with a strength that amazed himself. The thought came to him that they wnight be tramps, and then, in a moment, he drew the spotted ball from his pocket. _ ‘Hands off!’’ he cried, as he held it in the light of the lantern. Tt j is the token!’’ cried the men, in astonishment, as they fell back a bit. ‘It is,’’? said one, who seemed to be the leader. ‘‘We must not harm him. But, FRANK MERRIWELL'S CLOSE He watched the day| turn to dusky night, the red light dying | stopped in apparent | CALE, 27 ‘*You shall not wreck it! Give me that lantern! I will stop it myself!’ He snatched the lantern, and tried to bound away to meet the oncoming train. Then it was that a heavy blow stretched him on the ground, and the lantern was shattered in the fall. The ruffians leaped on the boy, like beasts of prey, which they, indeed, were. They pinned him to the ground, for he had been stunned, and could not offer much resistance. ‘*Make him fast!’’ ordered the leader; ‘but do net harm him. Work with all possible speed! Carry him out of danger.’”’ He was obeyed. Frank’s hands and feet were tied, and he was carried up the bank and away from the track. Then he was deposited on the ground beyond sight of the railroad, and the men vanished like black demons in the darkness. With all his strength, Frank struggled to free himself. He was frantic with his desire to do something to save the train. In squirming about, he sat up and caught a gleam of the headlight of the locomo- tive that was dragging human beings to destruction. Groaning, the boy fell back. ‘It is too late! I could not stop the train if 1 were free!’’ Then, horror-stricken, he awaited the crash. It came! There was a frightful sound of splintering, crashing wood and iron, ‘and then an awful silence, followed by shrieks and groans. The train was wrecked! Like a maniac, the boy fought to free himself, and he finally succeeded. Stag- gering to his feet, he sought the bank ‘and looked down on ascene of destruc- “Took at this!’?! hark—there is the whistle of the express! | She is coming!’’ Frank heard the distant whistle, and he felt that the train was rushing to its de-| struction. tion, where, in the darkness, the engine and cars were piled in a shapeless mass beside the track. Men had crept out of the rums. A few had found lanterns and were moving about, calling wildly to each other. Other men were there—the dark forms - of the desperadoes who had wrecked the | train, and they were working to despoil the dead and dying. Frank ran down to the mass of wrecked ‘‘Vou must stop that train, men!”’ cried | cars, resolved to do what he could to save the boy, as he saw one of the rails had | human life. _been loosened and was partly torn up. Soon he was working with ‘others amid the ruins of the train. FRANK MERRIWELL’S CLOSE CALL. As he worked, which one of the trainmen had secured from the wreck, he was astounded to feel | hands and see} close to his, | himself clutched: by strong a blood-spattered face held while a hoarse voice shouted : ‘‘Where is he? You know him! Where is he? Have you seen him ?”’ At first the boy thought it must be some passenger, crazed by his injuries, and seeking a friend who had been on the train. ‘SBE . calm,” him,’ ‘‘Tmust find him!’’ almost shrieked the man. ‘‘I knew he was on this train, and I clung beneath the car on which he rode that he might not escape me. I was near, and that is why flight. He feared me—he vengeance !’’ Frank grasped the light from the hand of the man at his side, and held it close to that blood-stained face. ‘*Wallace Clinton!’ he amazed. ‘‘Baldy Briggs, the tramp! here??? ‘Ves, I am here,’’ was. tlie ply. ‘‘I followed him! He is here some- where amid this wreck. I saw your notice ‘“We he said. feared shouted, You 9 in the papers, and I learned that you knew, hiin.”? ‘*Lyman Lawrence ?’’ (Ves, > ‘And he wa CoVes: ”? ‘(Then he may be a dead man now.”’ They searched amid the ruins, and it was not long before they came upon the) man for whom Wallace Clinton was look-| ing, Judge Lawrence was there, pinned | down by a great weight, his face ghastly pale, « dying from his. friehtful injuries. Clinton ‘caught the lantern, held it close to his own face, and dropped on his knees | beside lis foe. ‘‘Look, Lyman Lawrence!’ he shouted, | wile iy—look into my face! Open your| eyes! Do you know me??? With a moan of pain, the wretched | man looked. What he saw did not seem | to fill him with fear, but he faintly said: ‘Ves, I know you; you are the man I} wronged—the friend I betrayed. Laura | still lives, but she has despised me ever since she le ‘arned how I won-her for my | s on this train ?’’ with the aid of a lantern | will find He knew | he took to}! ny | hoarse re- | wife by making her believe you were false to her. I believe she loves you still. I feared you, for I knew you were mad for vengeance when you learned of my treach- ery. Then it was that I plotted and caused |you to be thrown into prison. But now my punishment has come!”? He ceased from pure exhaustion. Clin- ton was silent, his wildness having passed away with the sight of his enemy. After a brief pause, Lawrence went on: ‘‘T did hire men to destroy you, Clin- ton. They failed. J am glad of that now. This—this is my just reward! Iam dying —dying far from the wife who never truly loved me, anc the child who has ever feared me! All _ my property will fall to that wife and child. Go to her, Clinton ; she will be happy to see you once again. Promise me that you will go to her.’’ | “Tf I can—if I can!” whispered Clin- ton, huskily. ‘“That’s all—that’s all!’ whispered the unfortunate wretch. ‘‘You will not be ‘molested now. WhenI am dead there ‘will be no reason why any one should harm you. This—this is retribution!” His face showed how much he suffered \inentally, A strange change. had come over Wal- lace Clinton. No ‘longer was he fierce for | vengeance. Something like compassion ‘came into his eyes as he watched his dy- ‘ing enemy. Suddenly the dying man ttrned and clutched Clinton’s hand, almost shrieking: | ‘Tam Pye bart I know it—I feel it! | Yet I shall die easier if I hear you say you forgive me! For—th e—love—of— Heaven —say—it |?” Clinton was silent, but it seemed that a great battle was taking place within his soul. ‘*Ror—the — love —of —Laura—say— it!’’ huskily pleaded the dying man. ‘“Tyman Lawrence,’’ said Wallace Clinton, solemnly, pe | | | **T forgive you! Ae ankful sigh, a murmured prayer, a yasp, and the end had come. All was over, | 8 [THE END. | The next number (58) of Tip Top | Weekly will contain as the complete story Unknown Friend ; by the a Merriwell’s , Old. Foes in. New. Places,”’ tha of Frank Merriwell. ») >and five doll TIP TOP ip TorWE _ PUBLIC: YOU MAY: ATH yN NEW Tip Top Weekly Mail Subscribers. FREE.) 65c. | One year 85c. | 2 copies one year - $1.25 | 1 copy two years 4.00 By post office or express money order, At - your own FOR YORK, “15, 1897. Ferms to (POSTAGE % months { months o wmonths TOW TO Sunvd ‘ogistered letter sa if sent by ordinary letter. Recuiprs.—Receipt of your remittance change of number on your label. If not correct you . properly cre dited, and should let us know at onee. TOOLUB RAIsEks.—U pon request we will send sample copies to aid You in obtaining subseribers. All letters should be addressed to STREET & Saar S TIP TOP WEEKLY, 32 William St., New York City. 232 Grand “Summer Sport” Contest. 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The Novelty is supplied with current from two vats underlyingthe motor base, which cells are furnished with pads containmy the essentials for generating electricity, over which are laid zine plates. The siiple addi- tion of water to these batteries completes their composition. The carrent is carried to the motor hy copper attachinents on sale, bearing on zine. The motor is securely mounted on black composition base. The duplex Magnets and armature are wound with finest insulated wire. All the parts, including armature, connuutator, adjustable brushes, binding posts, and bearings, are made and assembled with extreme care, giving a perfect work- ing machine, One of the most valuable features of the outfit, is a hand-book with lithograpled cover, thorough)y illustrated,technieally describing the con- struction of this and other motors and batteries. The Simplex Typewriter. LS VD 3 ; ; ES i This is a4 won ne oh ‘ ed ise, erful example 4 ‘Ae 7 : we Of mechanism, i heeause it em- yodiesina cheap nachine 80 _many of the me- Chanical fea- tures of very ex- Spensive ty pe- = Writers; though small and compact, it has antomatie spacing device and paper feed, which are the principal requistes of a typewriter. The printing is done from rubber type on a circular disk; withone hand the disk is revolved and the other the key is worked, Very rapid work may be done with little practice. It is positive in all its ac- tions and requires no adjustment; it will not get out of order as it ia con- structed on very simple lines. PREMIUM SNAP SHOT CAMERA. This camera is the best of its class manufactured to-day. It is made of black walnut, carefully selected and finely polished. The inatantaneons simtter is one of its important features and is of the most approved type, adjustable to time exposure if desired. Itis operated by a lever and shutter on the front. ‘The Jense is made by one of the largest optical manufacturers, Makes a perfect photograph 21-2 by 21-2inches. Kach camera.is perfectly focused and thor- ouchly tested by experienced workmen before leaving the factory. Camera with complete outfit is securely packed in strong wooden bex, Beveloping and Printing Outfit.—Printing frame; package of hyposulphite; package of ecard wounts; package of ruby paper; package of dry piates; package blue print paper; instruction book. TOY STEAM LAUNCH. Length 14 inches; width 2 8-4 inches. Having a metal boiler and steam engine to work the screw. Steam is made by placing a amall lamp under. the boiler and tilling the hoi'‘er with water, Will run half an hour withont refilling, Perfeetly safe and will not explode. Diree- tions accompany each boat. The hu)lis of metal, handsomely painted in red, with hlack stripe around top of hull, Awuing om as indicated in the eut, ‘This boxt is a. mort desirable toy. es TI ns TIP TOP WEEKLY SUBSCRIPTION PREMIUMS, Premiums For One Year’s Subscription to Good News, Tip Top Weekly, or Red, White and Blue. For the benefit of those who want only one of the three publications mentioned above, we will send either the Uodod News, Tip Top Weekly, or Red, White and Blue, mailed to your address for one year, including your choice of any of the following premtums, for $2.50, payable through your newsdealer at the rate of fifty cents each week for five weeks. (Premium coupon No. 2.) a whisper 300 to 500 feet. they prove entirely satisfactory. ELLO! 00°’ TELEPHONE?=2 Each set consists of two black enameled receivers and trans-¢ =7 mitters, perfect reproductions in shape, appearance and general construction to the Bell instruments. For short are much better than $100 instruments, ing tubes, for connecting your house with barn, factory, office or othe: point on a farm, or with your neighbor, postoffice station, this outfit will ENGLISH TELESCOPES. ~~ They carry with distinctness connections and indoor lines For use in place of speak- , Toyoungpeople athese telescopes with perfectly milled caps at each joint. fect aud of high power. Pocket Lantern. The inside revolves 80 three different colors can be obtained, red, white and bine, Every boy wants one. It is 6 inches high, thade of heavy tin, Japanned. The giass is very heavy making it impossi- ble to break with ordinary usage. It 18 also oval shape, making a powerful lisht. It is com- Plete with lamp and burner and Will burn any oil, Pocket Cash “Registers the amount of your @ipurchase.” A regular watch case, imitation stem wind, nickel finish Pressure on crown registers five cents and when you get to $1 the small hand changes. Registers up to $10. FOOTBALLS. The popularity of football as an out-door sport is increasing, and with good reason, asit is a most invigorating and strengthening exercise. Running, which it so largely involves, is known to be the best pos- sible exer- cise, They oom are made of —- Strongest canvas, rub- ber coated. = SS = Say 2 FH. TE =i} - Warranted durable and perfect, and the best football made. Obiect lens is one inch across. aare a source of ead freat satisfaction ==4 as they bring ~ Stag Handle Jack Knife. "Genuine heavy stag handle,extra heavy German silver caps, bol- "ster and shield. Best material —=c————s and workmanship, and very dur- able. —=_——~ Hollow Handle Tool Set. These are tools of great utility. 1 ae They combine almost a shopful i " of tools for wood, leather, iron- "working, ete. Each set consists Wi of polished rock maple handle, perfect fitting serew cap. Strong steel adjustable chuck for hold- ing tools; closes by turning wing nut. Nickel plated. Ten tools of good steel as shown in cut. All are ground and polished. > =e ey <3 (OVER) TOP WEEKLY SUBSCRIPTION PREMIUMS, e TSHERMANSOUTFIT = A complete outfit, Containing the following: One fine polished brass ree]; one linen trout line, strictly first class, made in the most perfect manner, and the strongest trong line nade; one linen bass 6orsalnon line, of same bigh stap- dard, but larger, adapted for large and gamey fish; one long eotton line, dark colored, forevery- day fishing: one line complete with hook, bob and sinker, one dozen be ‘St ringed fish hooks (: issorted sizes), two improved trout flies, one im- proved salinon fly, two snell hooks and gut. The Student’s Fountain Pen. A tirst-class article for practical use, Will write thousands of words without retilling. Just the thing for students. Symphony Harmonica. Lloyd's Symphony Concert SO Az x Harmonica, Itis genuine ae 1 r ter manufacture; concert wood; el extension ends; brass lined; 40 = = = me A reeds; 20 holes, each hole hav- ae = eee ee a ing two reeds, all octave tuned. ( A |! | A |) | AS a = Go @] Plated sides. NOTE.—Premiums will be sent on receipt of last payment of subseription. If you should fail to send all of the payments, you will receive the publication for the number of weeks equaling the amount paid. Thus you would lose nothing should your payments cease. - Goupom No. tie. Coupom No. 2. Enclosed find fifty cents in part payment for one Enclosed find fifty cents in part payment for one year’s subscription tor year’s subscription for a ea en ne nee eee nn nee eee er a a, Mee OT ee ee Also premium (write name of-premium desired.) ; (NAME) (NAME) (ADDRESS) (ADDRESS) STREET & SMITH, 29 Ross St., NEw York Cry. TIP TOP QUARTERLIES ! Three Splendid Volames Now Ready. — Vee s a Eaeh of these Quarterlies contain thirteen “Frank Merriwell’ ’ stories complete. The fame of this series is too extended to necessitate a detailed ~ description. The stories tell of the pranks, trials and bravery of a true- ~@ hearted American lad—brave to the core. They have received universal - commendation. (me For sale by all newsdealers, or sent postage free, on receipt of price, ~ 50 Cents, by the publishers. : STREET & SMITH, New York ye NI wenn ee | ke CARRIES A FUEL LINE O aan EP T & eS rig] iT HM’ Ss PUBLICATIONS, 9 THE FAVORITE ORK WEEKLY. TIP TOP WEEKLY Illuminated Covr-—P rice, Five Cents—rhirty-two Pages, Complete List of Stories By the author of “Frank Merriwell.” Leer > Tales of School, Fun, College, Travel anc Adventure. PPALSII™ * 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 Merriwel]l in the South Sea; or, Life. 39 —Frank Merriwell Home Again; or, The Mystery of Ethel Driscoll. 40 -Frank Merriwell at Yale; Freshman, 41—Frank Merriwell’s Match; 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. 5 —Fra ‘vriwell’s Great Run; or, ‘rouncing the Tigesso%.. . 46 —Frank Merriwell’s:‘Even Up; or, Squaring the Score. 47 Frank Mc-riwell’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. 6G—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—I rank Merriwell’s Bicycle Boys; or, 'The Start Across the Continent. 54—Frank Merriwell’s Ride for Life; or, Foiling the Train Destrovers. 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 ‘l'oken. 58 —Frank Merriwell’s Unknown Friend; or, Old Friends in New Places. 59 Frank Merriweil Among the Rustlers; or, The Cattle King’s Daughter. 60 —Frank Merriwell’s Desperate Drop; or, Wild Adven- tures in the Rockies. 61—Frank M+rriwell in the Mines; or, The Blind Singer of Silver Bluff. 2—Frank Merriwell Among the Mormons; or, The Lost Tribe of Israel. 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; -r, The End of the Great Tour. 66—Prize Plot Story; Frank Merriw >I] 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. The Cast for or Freshman Against or, The King of the '. 70—Frank Merriwell’s Texas Tournament; or, Among the Cowboys. 71—Frank Merriwell’s Nine; or, Surprising the Southern League. \ , —Frank Merriwell’s Shot; or, Out with the Guthrie Gun Club. 78 —Frank Merriwell’s Flyer; or, The Winning Wheel, 74—Frank Merriwell’s T horoughbred ; or, Honesty ,; Against Crookedness. 75 -Frank Merriw ell’s Enemy; or, Rivals Riage. 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—F rank Merriwell as ‘‘Anchor; or, ‘The Winning Pull in the 'f'ug of War. ; 81—Frank Merriwell’s Initiation; or, of Pi Gamma. 82—Frank 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—Frank Merriwell’s Revenge; or, Aroused at Last. 88—Frank Merriwell’s Capture; or Jbe 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 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; or, Frolics with the Far- dale Boys. 97—Frank Merriwell’s Fardale Friends, or, Facing Old. Foes. 98—Frank Merriwell’s Yale Chums; _of Fardale, 99—-Frank Merriwell’s Choice; or, Fardale. Sport of the Blue \ The Secre Order Danger; or, The Shadow of or, The Jolly Dogs The Fair Rivals of 100—Frank Merriwell’s Fardale Rackets; or, Yale Lads» 7 On a Frolic. 101— Frank Merriwell’s Courage; or, Bluff. 102—Frank Merriwell’s Faith; or, Crime, True Nerve Against The Shadow of a STREET & SMITH, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK. Anne For Sale te all Newsdealers. Every Saturday.