by STREET & SMITH, Price Five Cents. R BLUFF ‘“(DROP THAT CHILD, YOU RUFFIAN!’? CRIED FRANK c- a ; "ae o we sens hed, Mey. ’ ag, aa Tip Top WEEKLY. Issued Weekiy—By Subscription $2.50 per year. Entered as Second Class Matter at the N, Y. Post Office. STREET & SMITH, 29 Rose St., N. ¥ Entered Aceording to Act of Congress, in the Year 1897, in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, Washington, D. C. June 12, 1897. Vol. 1 No. Of. Price Five Cents. Contents of This Number. FRANK MERRIWELL IN THE MINES; or, » The Blind Singer of Silver me TALKS WITH TIP TOP READERS - THE EMERALD RING (Short Story) - - THROWING THE BOOMERANG - - SPORTS AND PASTIMES (Putting the Shot) CLOCK MADE OF BICYCLES - - - RANK MERRIWELL IN THE MINES; ; The Blind Singer of Silver Blaff. By the Author of ‘‘FRANK MERRIWELL.”’ PROLOGUE. HE LIGHT IN THE WINDOW. It was a wild winter night in the mountains. Amid the dreary peaks the wind was howling like ten thousand fam- ished wolves. In the black depths of the re nyons and ravines it sometimes 'with a sound of distant thunder, yile anon it shrieked and wailed and bed with such heart-rending agony fl pathos that it seemed all the lost souls 6f Purgatory had been set free in those ice-bound mountains. In its teeth the Storm Demon curried a mass of snow, which it spat forth in frightful fury. The snow was fine, like ‘sand, and like sand it was hard, so that whenever it struck human flesh it stabbed and stung like a million tiny daggers. This snow drove through the scragg pines on the mountain sides, where the wind rose and fell in a wailing roar, it piled into the canyons, smothering great bowlders, and it heaped itself about the little cabin that stood against the face of the bluff. Within the little cabin an old, white- bearded man hovered over a roaring fire, which he replenished now and then from a pile of wood that was heaped against the wall. Under the door, over the door, around the rattling window, and through: chinks in the wall snow was driven into the cabin, sometimes: being carried half way across the room. For all of the roaring fire, the old fan found no small difficulty to keep warm. His thin form was bent with age, his hands had been drawn out of shape by rheumatism, and his face bore traces of years of gedcnles toils, hardships, dis- apa and bitter sorrows. Night had come down suddenly and brought with it the storm, which thq,old man had expected, and for which he had prepared the pile of wood. ‘It is a terrible night and a terrible storm,” muttered the old man, as he put more wood on the fire. ‘‘She will not come to-night.’’ 4 He went to the window, and tired ot peer out, but he could see nothing save a thick white sheet of snow. ‘God have mercy on any poor wretch ' who was caught out in this storm !’’ came fervently from his lips. And then, as if seized by a great fear, he groaned: ‘*What.if she is out there!”’ The wind shook the cabin, seeming to howl in derision at the old man within, while the snow flung itself against the window like fine hail. Sometimes the voices of the storm were like despairing human cries, and as he listened the slug- gish blood in the heart of the old man grew cold. ‘The -snow is so thick—so thick!’ he huskily whispered. ‘‘The light will not shine through it. And yet every might since she went away I have put the light in the window. What if I should fail to- night, and what if I should find her dead | outside in the morning !”’ With feverish haste he sought fora large oil lamp, which he took down from a shelf. His crooked fingers trembled as he removed the chimney, which slipped and fell to the table, but to his unspeak- able joy ‘was not broken. He found matches, and lighted one of them, but even as he was about to apply the flame to the wick a puff of wind came through a chink and blew it out. CT@ is trying to delay me—trying to -delay me that she may perish before I can put the light in the window!’ panted the old man, as he snatched up another match. ‘‘Hear the wind mock me—hear it laugh and howl!” “This time he succeeded in lighting the lamp, and he quickly carried it to the window, where he placed it ona shelf that Plainly had been constructed to sup- ‘port it. He pressed his face to the win- dow, and tried to look out once more, but ‘the light showed him nothing save a great sheet of white. ‘(She will never see it!’’ he cried de- FRANK MERRIWELL IN THE MINES. spairingly; “‘if she is out there she’ll never see it!”’ And again the wind mocked him and tore at the little cabin as if curious to reach him. The old man went back and sat by the fire, upon which he piled more wood. ‘*The light is in the window,”’ he said. ‘‘T have done all I can. Poor Nellie— poor girl! He had so much money, and she loved pretty things so well. I tried it—that some day my mine would make me tich, and then I would buy her all the She eas . . ‘fine things her heart could desire. had no faith in the mine. And Victor, my boy, where is he? JI wrote him, and told him all, and he swore he would find Powers and take her from him. I have not heard from Victor since then, and I do not——”’ The old man stopped and started up, Was it the wind that made that strangely human cry? Was it the wind that had banged at his door with a shock? Was it the wind that slipped down, down the door, like a sliding body? | Shaking in every limb the old man got up quickly, and hastened to the door, which he did not hesitate to-fling open, for all of the terrible storm. Snow beat in upon him, and the wind sucked away his breath, but he bent forward and placed his hands on something that,lay there at the threshold of his cabin. With a sudden iburst of strength he dragged that some- thing into the cabin, and then hurled shut the door in the very teeth of the tem pest. | A woman, covered by snow, her hair unbound and matted with snow, her face blue and pinched, her eyes closed, lay there on the cabin floor, clasping in her arms a bundle that was closely wrapped about by a shawl. , Beside her knelt the old man, whose clasped hands were uplifted, and from whose lips came the wild prayer: ito tell her that some day I must strike. in Powe eer PO RET TEE ST ere t | a os Yes, I have Lee pered ; FRANK MERRIWELL IN THE MINES. 3 “(Merciful God, I thank thee! ARS life—give her back to me!’ “Phen he dragged her nearer the fire, 42 rubbed her face and her hands, he forced a little whisky into her mouth, she worked with frantic haste and _heart- ~. -breaking fear. _ She opened her eyes—she saw him. Then the ghost of a smile came to her =e face, and that smile told she was yet 4 “young, scarcely more than a girl, and she - “had been very pretty not long ago. _'"Daddy—imy dear good daddy!”’ The words were the faintest whisper, uttered with a supreme effort, heard them, and he sobbed with joy. **Nellie, my dear one! my little girl! : iny pet! you have come back to your poor, lonely old daddy, thank God!” : ‘His arms were about her, and he kissed 1ér as a father kisses the one child he ? her eyes. And now the storm was sebbin ‘Ves, yes, my dear one—it is there.’’ | like a host of mourning spirits. The old “Daddy, do you know, I thought I) gray-headed man knelt beside the ‘bed, on would not tell you, but I must—I must!) which lay a living child and its” seat? Victor—my brother—he came for me.’’ | mother. + ; ‘He did? Hesaid he would, and he} But the sweet sinile on the faite of” t swote he would take you from that!dead told that she had in truth see wretch.”’ ‘light in the window of Heaven. 2 Poor Victor!’ —_——— | ‘*Poor Victor!’’? gasped the old man, CHAPTER Clutching her hand. ‘‘What do you mean?’ **Be brave, daddy—dear daddy! Victor aime fot me, and—and they quarreled. I/the front steps of the Golden Bag wesaw.it—oh, Heaven! I saw it all. He—j Saloon, which was situated in the ti Pay he shot my brother !”’ little mining camp of Silver Biuff _. The old man gasped for breath, and a|glacious! Lookee out—lookee out Jong, low moan came quivering from his|body!’? ; lips. | ‘“Hyar, you pigtailed heathen!’ ¥ “Poor daddy!’ whispered the dying|a harsh voice from within the alas woman, as she touched his bowed head ‘‘whatever is the matter with yer if What with her cold, thin hand. ‘‘I thought I) he yer dancin’ like a monkey an a wouldn’t tell you, but I knew—I knew) in’ like a coyote fer?’’ ; “you must—find it out soon. That was} ‘‘Clome out klick!’ shrilly pipe a \ ‘what filled me with horror—oh, such poe cette making frantic gestures horror!—for the murderer. Then—then |‘‘clome out an’ slee Melican boyee lidi 1 ‘I took my child—and fled. Then I hur-|on two wheeleé, no holdee up allee same ried back to—to you, dear daddy.’”’ stlay so, no hossee to pullee allee sar Silence again within the cabin. Out-|Melican bloyee make um go with fee side the storm seemed hushed near at|/Hoop-la! Chika-chi hollygo lally ?* hand, but afar off on the bleak mountains| ‘‘Whatever is ther onery almon’sey it moaned and moaned. . son-of-er-oun tryin’ ter git through ‘*Kiss me, daddy—kiss me good-by! I| him?’ growled the harsh voice withiag ~~ saloon: FRANK MERRIWE . > "Phen a broad- shouldered, rough-look- : sg mian, at least six feet tall and solid as ai Ox, wearing a ted shirt and catrying wa heavy rawhide whipsin his hand, came stalking out of the saloon. One look this man took in the direc- 2 tion indicated by the'dancing Chinaman, and then he turned to roar into the -_ Come out hyar, ther hull shootin’ * match 0’ yer! Hyar is a sight fer sore eyes! Move lively, critters.” ‘There was a tush of heavy feet within the saloon, and nearly a dozen men, the most of them and tough in ap- _ pearance, came pouring out by the door, ators they all knew it meant something “unusual when Ben Boze spoke in that ~ Manner. i _ Exclamations of unspeakable amaze- _ment broke from their lips when they looked up the one street of the town and ee saw five lads, dressed in uniform suits rough “and mounted on handsome bicycles, ap- “proached swiftly. » “*Wa-al, dern these yar two eyes 0’ mine!” ied Crooked Pete, a hunch- back and one of the ‘‘bad men”’ of the fe - town. ‘Whenever did I ever see anything ‘like that afore? Waugh!”’ ~ “Tenderfeet!’’*cried another. Ay? bisuckles!”” shouted yet another. “How durst they enter the precincts of ‘this city without first consulting me and obtaining permits to do so??? cried a : short, thick man, who had an abnormally Jarge stomach, a very red face and a 1usky voice. ‘They are laying them- selves liable and amenable to the law. Whar i is the city marshal?’’ ~The five boys were Frank Merriwell and his friends, and they came on toward the Golden Eagle, apparently quite un- ‘disturbed by the excitement their appear- ance had created. “That looks like a hotel,’’ said Harry Raitleton, ‘Cand the crowd in front of it eS fair sample of the ‘guests’ to be LL IN THE MINES. found in the average mining-camp hotel. ”’ ‘(They seem to be somewhat disturbed murmured — Bruce by our Browning. presence, ’’ ““We are getting to be great curiosities out in this country.”’ ‘‘Nebber seen no stich ignerent pussons in all mah life!’’ came disdainfully from Toots. ‘‘Seems lek dey nebber saw no college gemman on bisuckles out heah.”’ ‘“‘Are you going to stop here, Frank?” asked Jack Diamond. ‘‘Ves,’? nodded Merriwell. ‘“‘It long distance to the next town, and the road is a bad one, so we will try to find accommodations here for the night.”’ ‘(Mah soul an’ body!’’ gurgled Toots. ‘‘T don’ lek de looks ob dem pussons, Marser Frank. Dey has got a mighty ba-a-ad way ob standin’ wif their han’s on their hips clost teh dem big revolvers.” ‘They are not half as bad as they look, Toots,’’ declared Merriwell. ‘‘They- seem to take that rough and dangerous appear- ance from their surroundings—the moun-- tains, the guilches and the ragged rocks. I haven’t a doubt but some of them are as mild and harmless as doves,’’ | ‘“Mebbe dat am so, Marser Frank, but I don’t lek dat kind ob doves—no; sar!” As they approached the Golden Eagle Sing Lee grew more and more excited. He waved his hands over his head, danc-_ ing and chattering like a monkey. Of a sudden, when the boys were near at hand, the Celestial uttered a wild yell. — and statted to run-across the street in. front of the riders. He got a little more than half way across, and then seesied to change his mind, for he wheeled round to run back. Instead of running back to the saloon, however, Sing Lee ran straight into © Toots, and bicycle, colored boy and Chinaman came down ina hea middle of the street. My glacious !”’ wailed § ‘Land ob wartermillions!”’ _ gasped Toots, is a ue FRANK Then they sat upand looked at each other, and the expressions on their faces would have made a horse laugh. **Chika-chi lly!” chattered the Chinaman, trying to get one of his hollygo le feet out of the spokes of the rear wheel of the bicycle. ‘Hold on, dar!’ cried Toots, angrily. ‘*Don’t yo’ go fo’ teh call me names, yo pigtail washee-washee! ’stinctly understan’ I’s cullud pussun, Eee a spactable | t sar ! ‘*Black bloy gitee the heathen. ‘“Git out, you’ Yo’ run roun’ lek a chicken wif his haid cut off. If yo’s bisuckle Ill make) yo” pay fo’ it, sar, or I'll cut dat pig-tail ill way,’’ monkey face! broke mah I wants yo’ teh | declared | off close up teh cocumnut— ’deed | I will! I’s ba-a-ad coon I’m | ina-a-ad !”’ ‘*Black bloy Sing Lee. Muckahi!’’ “Yo” wants ter Ou you’ is, Chinee!’’ shouted ‘Toots. can’t call dis nigger no muckahi! yo’ a when ) gitee in insisted | ‘“No gittee out, gitee un oval. way,’ | | hold whar | c¢ Yo If yo’ does, yo’ am in dangah ob bein’ cayarved | all up wif a razzer!’’ ‘Yah!’ retorted the Celestial, gave a wild kick in his struggles to free his foot. ‘‘Washee facee, black bloy!’’ “Yah, yo’se’f!”” flung back Toots, and then he uttered a howl] of pain as'one of | Sing Lee’s feet struck him on the shins. A moment later the colored boy grabbed for the Chinaman’s queue, missed it, and clutched Sing Lee’s shoulder. At the same time Sing Lee knocked off the darky’s cap and fastened both hands in Toots’ wool. Then there was trouble, for the two becaine so mixed with the bicycle that it seemed doubtful if either would ever be able to extricate himself from the wreck. The men in front of the Golden Eagle right ) | as he frogs of the roared with laughter, MERRIWELL IN THE MINES. a it, oe cried a voice. + other. ‘Fight ye tarriers, fight!’ bellowed third. In a wild. burst of delight ome or the |inen snatched out a pair of revolyets 7am began shooting in the ae : 3 ‘ The in ence Then Pesiik called to » Tack : ‘“Here, take my wheel! separate them, or there’ll not be supine’ left of Toots’ machine. ”’ . He tan over to the combatants and caught hold of them. ‘‘Hyar!’’ roared the big man with the whip, “‘leggo thar! Let ’em fight it outy, |dad burn yer!”’ ‘ Frank paid no attention to thig, but 'proceeded to separate the combatants, imuch to the disgust of the spectators if saloon. oy Ben Boze came down into the, street, | flourishing his whip. Nene ‘‘Didn’t I tell yer ter Jet ’em alone??? he shouted, glaring at Frank. | Sadi. did you speak to me, sir??? asked: Merriwell, coolly. ‘‘I didn’t notice ae ne were ees me..? } ‘Didn't, hay? Wa-al, yer wants ter | notice when I chrips, tenderfoot, fer Tm a bad man from away up ther crick.”? 42 “*You Jook it,’? nodded Frank with mild sarcasin, which the big bull ae failed to observe. *‘T be it,’’ rumbled the man. “Dim wuss’n a whole tribe o’ ’Paches’ when? [ gits ter riotin’ on ther rampage, an’ all i onery ordinary critters wants ter give me ‘: room. Didu’t notice I wuz speakin’ ter yer, hay? Dern my boots! If you cnowed ! : be a little more about Ben Boze o’ Bitter @ Crick yer’d noticed it derned suddin’. When I speaks round yere, commoim galoots git down an’ crawls.~ When I~ chirps, people generally hunts their FRANK MERRIWELL IN THE MINES. Arter gittin’ o "em pull ther holes in arter them. That’s ther kind o’ roarin’ blizzard I pes? = ~**Really, you must.be a terrible man.”’ | | @errible! Waugh! I’m p’izen! I’m more dangerous than a nest o’ rattlers. Whoop !’” ‘‘Blad Melican mlan,’” chattered Sing Lee, who seemed much afraid of Boze. | ~ “‘Batee lat-tail fliles. Lookee out flo seh”? = *Tand ob goodness!”’ gasped Toots, getting behind Frank and peering round “at Boze, with his eyes bulging from his Tead. “‘I nebber seen nobody befo’ dat could eat rat-tail files, no, sir!”’ The big ruffian was in his element, for he believed all the boys stood in the most abject fear of him. | “Ew ry mornin’ when I kin git *em, “i have a nigger fer breakfast,’’ he de- clared, snapping his big whip. “Dat settles it!” gurgled the colored boy. “I'd done po’erful sight better if I’d tet dat landslide burry me, an’ had de whofe fing done wif.’’ »* Perhaps,’ said Frank, mildly—‘‘per- =-haps we may be able to induce you to Spare us the only migger we have. If we "> had two or three in our party we wouldn’t =mind letting you have one for breakfast ~ to-morrow morning.” Sa **Mebbe I'l] spare him, an’ mebbe I won't.» That’s ’cordin’ ter how I feels. -If yer rubs me ther right way o’ ther fur T am’t so bad; but if yer rubs me ther wron® way I’m a grizzly. However did yer dutst conre ridin’ inter this yere town on them things, anyhow?” tPhat’s exactly what I’d like to knew,’’ wheezed the stout man with the greasy clothes and red face, as he came forward pompously. ‘‘How did you dare - enter ther precincts of this town without special permit from the proper legal au- ithorities.” I represent the majesty of the law here, an’ I can supply you with 7 inter their holes ther most]icenses fer ridin’ them things through |yere at the rate of five dollars a license. |I am Samuel Spudd, chief justice of the lcourt of —— ‘¢Cit out!’ roared Ben Boze, with such | violence that Judge Spudd nearly fell >? over backwardin alarm. ‘‘Whoever told lyer ter mix in hyar till I wuz done with ithese yere tenderfeet? Go chase yerself | afore I robs ther majesty o’ ther law o’ 'her chief representative in Silver Bluff. Git!” ‘‘Ah, yes! Excuse me—excuse me! ”) I thought—— Crack! Judge Spudd made a wild leap to get laway, and uttered a shout of pain as he felt the snapper of the big whip cut a of cloth from the seat of his | trousers, ‘(Ver ain’t got no tight ter think when | I’m round—none whatever,’’ declared the ‘* HE ye’re lookin’ fer razzle piece | bullwhacker. juice, wait till I gits through with these 'yere tenderfeet, an’ then you kind haye 'what’s left o’ them.” | “An? that’ll be-derned little,’’ said | Crooked Pete, with a grin. | “It looks as if we are in for trouble ‘here, Frank,’? said Jack Diamond, speaking guardedly in Merriwell’s ear. _ “‘Perhaps not,” said Frank, quietly. ‘We'll keep out of trouble if we can.” | “That's right,’ yawned Bruce Brown- |ing. “T am not feeling very well, and I ‘do not cate to exert myself.” The attention of Ben Boze was drawn to the bicycles, which he proceeded to examine. *After a moment he said: **T reckon I kin ride one o’ these yer things, an’ I’m goin’ ter try it. Pf show yer how ter do it.’’ He advanced to secure one of the wheels. ““Do Jet him don’t it—I mean don’t let him do it!’ whispered Rattleton, ex- citedly. ‘‘He will smash any bicycle he tries to ride, and we can’t get another very easy in these parts.’’ FRANK MERRIWELL IN THE MINES. The bullwhacker picked up Toots’| This trick was performed as neatly and = bicycle and fear of what would happen to! gracefully as possible. The lash snatched — the wheel unloosed the colored boy’s|the revolver from+the ruffian’s fmgess, : tongue. | snapped it into the air and sent it /spin-— is ““G way, dar, man!’’ squawked the/}ning toward Merriwell, who deftly caught darky, in fear. ‘‘If yo’ tries teh ride, the weapon. dat, yo’s suah gwan teh smash hit!! Then just as Boze was reaching for. Don’ yo’ try teh git on dat bisuckle!”’ | another ‘foun,’ the big man found him- He started toward Boze, who turned in| Iself ‘‘covered’’ by the revolver He had | surprise. A roar of anger broke from the drawn a moment before, that revplveg, big ruffian, and then his whip cut through | | being in the hand of the boy who had the air. | wielded the w hip. es Toots tried to get out of the way, but} ‘Go slow, you big ruffian 2 ” range ett the lash caught him, and he gavea yell} Frank’s voice. ‘‘If you try to pull an of pain. | ether gun I'll bore you stre! [don’t = The bullwhacker swung back the whip | | want to shoot even as miserable a a aa i to strike again, but it was snatched from) | as you, but yow’ll force me todo it im: ao his grasp by Frank Merriwell, whose eyes! ..7¢. Sm aie i you try to draw.”? ro were flashing, and who cried: | 30ze suddenly became motionless as if “You cowardly ruffian! Try a taste of turned to stone, for he saw the boy dad: your own medicine!” '‘‘the drop,”? and there was something in Then with all the strength he could) yerriwell’s manner that convinced the & command Frank sent the lash snapping |,4fian it would uot. be ‘‘healtl hy? te tty a14 > ; aclizarra| and curling round the bullwhacker S/to get out another revolver. body. Crooked Pete nearly fainted from ae ee) CHAPTER IL amazement. ‘‘Whatever is this yere I behold#”? he gasped, rubbing his eyes. ‘Is this ae “Wow! Wa-a-a-ow! Murder! Oo-o0-|dream—ur what?” ooh!?? ‘(It’s no dream,’’ said a calmy,even = The astounded bullwhacker leaped into} voice behind Pete. ‘That boy is able te the air, uttering the wildest howls of|take care of himself, if he is a ‘weer pain. He could scarcely believe it possi-| foot.” Mie ble that a human being had dared strike; The speaker was a striking donned! os him with his own whip. man, astranger in Silver Bluff, having” “Holy cats!’? cried Crooked Pete, | arrived there that very morning. He was aghast. ‘‘Now look out fer bullets!) tall and straight, well proportioned and - Thar’ll be some tenderfeet fitted fer|supple in his movements. He had ridden plantin’ directly !’’ into town on ‘a snow-white horse, whoge® Scarcely were the words uttered when} flowing mane and tail were scarcely Ben Boze snatched out a huge revolver, aj whiter than the long hair of its Tider murderous look on his bewhiskered face. |’The mustache of the man was iron-gray, But before the man could use the|and his eyes were black as night, piercing’ weapon his own whip in the hands of|and powerful. His face had a noticeable Frank Merriwell cut the air again. The} pallor, but it was not the pallor of wéeak- lash of the whip curled round the barrel} ness. His jaw was square, and there was. of the revolver, and the weapon was|sternness and resolution about his facé snatched from the big ruffian’s hand. {and his manner. NERVY TENDERFEET. a ae Mexican Seaace, and the A that he could. produce a ‘ ‘twinkling of an eye. ; the West and FRANK MERRIWELL IN THE MINES, 9 ‘Despite the fact that this man had worn clothes, trimmed with silver outfit had been of silver, 1¢ tough citizens of the town from pick- ing a quarrel with him. He wore visible weapons, but all who saw him felt ‘gun’? in the no The business of ‘the stranger was not apparent, but he stopped in Silver Bluff, and soon made it apparent that he had Rec to pay for anything he ordered. “That he.was familiar with the ways of knew how to make him- self solid by leaving enough ‘‘dust’’ at the Golden Eagle to pay for a round of drinks for every man in town. - At the one hotel of Silver Bluff the | tanger registered simply as ‘‘Mr. Smith, ~ ce ; “Mexico, and the citizens jsimedintelys ell to speaking ofhim as “the, man from Eagle st now xank Merriwell disarm Ben Boze the drop pn the rufhan with own weapon, the man from Mexico ake care of himself. -al,’? growled the hunchback, lar can’t no tenderfoot use my pard Se that way an’ keep a whole skin.’ . with a murderous Bigeee in his| ( calmly commanded the a from Mexico, as his hand closed on weapon. ‘‘Give thé boy a square A snarl escaped the hunchback’s lips, | but when he looked up and saw the ex- in Snrith’s eyes, he wilted / i . | mountings of his horse’s| there was that} in his manner which had prevented any of | } since | having | | ‘If you try to harm that boy in such a | way you'll be committing suicide,’’ de- clared the Man from Mexico. ‘‘It will not be a good thing for you to try it when I am not looking, either, for I shall ‘hear about it.’’ “You must be stuck on ther kid,’ ‘muttered Crooked Pete. **T’'am stuck on anybody I desire to see given a fair show just as much as I am stuck on him. I have said enough, and I think you understand. ’? Then he let go of the weapon, and coolly turned his back on the hunchback. Crooked Pete was seized with a burn- ing desire to shove the weapon against Smith’s coat and put a bullet clean |through the man, but there was some- thing in the careless manner of the white-haired stranger that made the little ‘cutthroat afraid. ‘*He’d never turn his back that way ef \he didn’t hev some other galoot ter bore ef I tried to drop him foul,’’ ee ime By th is time Frank Merriwell had corf- pelled Ben Boze to elevate his hands and ‘hold them above his head. ‘*Holee smokee!’’ chattered Sing Lee, grinning in a way that showed he appre- ciated the humor of the situation. ‘‘Meli- can bloy glood flo slomething sidee lidin’ two wheelee. My glacious! Melican bloy vely smalt—vely smalt!’’ “Yah! yah! yah!’ laughed ‘Toots. . ‘‘When dey done fools wif. dat chile dey — meks de bigges’ kind ob mistake—yes, sar!’ : ‘‘Whatever be yer goin’ ter do with me, tenderfoot?’’ growled Boze, uneasily. ‘“Goin’ ter keep me hyar with my han’s in ther air all night?” ‘Oh, no, my dear sit,’’ smiled Frank. |‘‘I.am going to give you a little advice, In: the first place, I want to warn you not to ~ and then I want you to get out. molest any of my friends while we Be !main in town.”’ 10 FRANK MERRIWELL IN THE MINES. arene ’ erunted the bull whacker. | high-pitched voice, ‘‘I’d never thouptitat: ‘(And I have to add that 1°] make it|of him!’ ; very unpleasant for you if you trouble|} Seeing the little man, Judge Spud them. In the next place, let me tell you | hurried up and grabbed him by the ar that it is not always wise to jump on a/| wheezing forth: boy just because he‘isa boy. There are} ‘‘City Marshal Mole, it is yo ur swor: boys who are more dangerous to fool/duty to arrest these persons, who ar with than men.”? dangerous to the peace of the community “Vo? bet dat am right!’’ put in Toots.| They have dared to venture Into this: “Still further, all tenderfeet are not|town without first providing themselve going to get down and crawl when some| with special permits to ride thet bieyeles loud-mouthed, blatant, self-styled bad /through Silver Bluff, which is am amsui man tells them to do so. There are |and a defiance - the law. I caiion you tenderfeet, and, then again, there are)to arrest them.’ other tenderfeet.’’ | City Marshal Mole seemed surprised. ‘‘Ves, sar,’? nodded the colored lad, land ill at ease. From/‘what he had heard ‘Can’ we ain de odder tenderfeet, sar.”’ these boys were not’ ordinary tendetfeet, ‘“That is all,’ concluded Frank. ‘‘ But | and it might not be a pleasant task” keep your hands up!—you are to turn | arrest the one who had disarmed an to the right and march down the street|cowed Ben Boze. GOA without stopping till you are out of pistol| Mole coughed, and took a step towaxc range, unless you are anxious to find out Frank, but retreated’ two stetsias Merri. how well I can shoot.”’ | w ell turned sharply with the bullwhack. “An? dat boy can shoot a mighty sight |er’s revolver still in his hand. 4 GOT Er-er-excuse me!’ stammered ‘the clared Toots, warningly. ; |little city marshal. ‘‘I—I wish you wo So, much against his will the ‘‘bad|be careful with that gun, ene man. man’’ was forced to march away, but he|— it’s pointed this way. vowed vengeance as he departed. **So it is,’? smiled Fran] k, , ting fe As Boze disappeared a little man with red whiskers and long-legged boots, came |s in sight and stood staring after the bull-| out of nae: “But I don’ t hii it wi whacker in evident astonishment. go off unless you make me netvous Then the little man came hustling} getting too near.’’ toward the group in front of the Golden Eagle, and the boys saw he wore a belt | retreating still further. Then fe tut round his waist, and that belt was loaded |to Judge Spudd, and squeaked: ' with weapons of various kinds. “Tf you want them arrested, are The newcomer excitedly asked some|them yourself! I don’t know nothin of the spectators what had happened and|about no licenses or permits fog” ridin he was told how Frank had subdued Ben | bisuckles.”? % Boze. With that he suddenly wheeled sbaie Straightway the little man approached |and bolted throngh the door of the saloon Metriwell, stopped with his feet set wide | as if he feared the revolver in Mena apart, thrust his broad-brimmed hat back 3 on his head, and stared at the lad who} get out of the way, / haa dared face the reputed ‘‘bad man.’ ‘(Suffering justice!’ iketidae ‘Ju ‘Well,’?? he exclaimed, in a squeaky, | Spudd, dramatically. ‘‘And it 1s better dan he can use a whip, man,’’ de-| FRANK MERRIWELL IN “thajesty bf the law is administered and | upheld in this town! Say, young man, if| youll buy drinks for the crowd we’ll let| you off Without special permits.’ ' Ivo, Sir,”’ not buy drink drink myself, and I into purchasing drinks for If i see fit to stand Silver Bluff P11 do so; pose to be forced to do anything of the said Frank, firmly, cs for the crowd. J never anybody else. but I don’t pro- sort..”’ The judge sighed and erestfallen. ‘*And I am so dty—so dry!’’ he huskily auurmured. feet we have fai to bu@=juice since I located* in Silver Bluff. led make set up the This is the beginning of the end! long this place will be run by tenderfeet, saand every saloon will sell soda water. 1 must be alone with my sorrow.’ And he slowly Golden Eagle. CHAPTER THE UNSEEN SINGER. The man from Mexico came down from the «steps of the ~ rank. ““Teongratulate you on your he said. ‘‘You will find that you sserve to get in this country, and you will have further trouble if you re- 4 main in Silver Bluff. stop te eo?” “Until to-morrow.’ Then you had better put upat the} ~hotel over there Golden Eagle, wh _ are you armed ?”’ Frank smiled. 1) “fAt present I.am armed with this,’’ he “answered, holding up the revolver he had |. captured from the bullwhacker. » ‘And you have no other weapon ?”’ othing but my fists.’’ salogn and nerve, need along Do you and keep ich is a_bad place. s | “Tt shalt refuse to be bullied | treat while I am in| looked sad and/s ‘“These are the first tender-| Before | followed Mole into the| spoke to, | ticularly dangerous. intend to) away: from the/t How | THE MINES. 11 | ‘*Your friends—of course they carry / guns??? ‘CNo, 73 Smith lifted his of gravity on his face deepening, | possible. ‘Do you mean to say you are traveling eyebrows a trifle, the look if ithrough this part of the country without of those nature | gave you ?”? ‘¢Ve ES weapons any sort save 5 Bae ‘That is very careless. There is an old aying, which I presume you have heard, | that a man but does need out here may never need a life, he will need but when he it You that gun once in his it bad. ‘came near needing one bad when 'ruffian pulled on you. ‘“Oh, I don’t know. The ‘that if I had owned a gun and tried to | it shot me full of ‘holes while ‘That ‘Really, 1 | yo ”) chances are draw he tvould have I was getting it out.’ sh Smith. it turned out, is: = true? nodded that case, as better I don’t know, possibly il u seemed to be off without a | gun. you are bet- |ter off anyway. But remember my warn- ling to keep away from the Golden Eagle land look out for Bem Boze. The others, with the ‘is known as Crooked Pete, are not Crooked Pete even more dangerous than Boze.’ Merriwell thanked the the boys went to the hotel, where registered and paid for their accommoda- exception of a hunchback who par- is a snake, man, and then they tions in advanee, according to the rules of the house. Toots set to work repairing his bicycle, | | ; { he spokes of one wheel being bent. Frank employed a man to return Ben Boze’s revolver, while Bruce lost no time [in getting into his 'his massive form on the hard bed, where he was soon sleeping peacefully and snor- ing loudly. Shortly after entering the hotel, Frank was surprised to see Sing Lee rushing rooin and stretching 12 toward him, his face beaming with de- light. ‘“Hikal-hi chiakgo chally-ma-lolly!’ chattered the Celestial, and then he made a lunge for Merriwell, caught Frank «in his arms and gave the boy a frantic hug. ‘‘Here! here! break away!’ laughed Fra unk. ‘What ails you ?”’ ‘“Melican bloy velly gleat fightal!”’ wildly declared Sing Lee. “Kissee Meli- can ry footee.’ And then before Frank could prevent it, the Chinaman went down on his knees and was kissing Merriwell’s shoes. “Say, say! let up!’ cried Frank. (Wait till I get a shine. ‘Those shoes carry samples of dirt from every part of the country between here. and Eastern Kansas.’ ‘‘Melican bloy let Sing Lee havee dilt offee shoe,’’ begged the heathen. ‘‘Sing Lee keepee dilt to ’membal Melican bloy | by.”’ ‘It isn’t mnecessary; I'll give something else to remember me by.”’ By this time the combined hotel clerk and general utility man had recovered from his surprise, so that he roared: ‘*Chase yourself, you pig-tailed. monk- ey! Til give you something to remem- ber me by!’’ Then he charged at the Celestial, Frank intervened, saying: **t wouldn’t hurt him. mean any harm.’’ The clerk looked at Frank in mingled surprise and disgust. ““Well,’’? he said, ‘‘you may like it to have that critter huggin’ and slobberin’ over yer. If yer do, all right.” Sing Lee showed evidences of fear when the clerk started for him, and looked pleased and relieved when Frank interfered. ‘*Melican bloy velly blave,’’ admiringly declared the Chinaman. ‘‘No flaid of Benee Bozee. Benee Bozee blad man. Hitee Sing Lee with whipee. Sing Lee *flaid of him. Sing Lee glad to slee him gitee hit with him own whipee. Evly- body but Melican bloy ’flaid of Benee Bozee.’ Frank found it rather difficult to get rid of the Chinaman, who wanted to fol: low him about, like a dog, but he finaily succeeded. you | but He doesn’t ‘time of day? | ails you,” seem to care to rest—always wantt0 Bey. ikeep you out of trouble,’ | Bruce, getting up and lighting a | ette. FRANK MERRIWELL IN THE MINES. The supper at the hotel was notatall elaborate, but as Toots declared it was” ’|“*po’erful fillin’,’’? and as the boys were: decidedly hungry, it proved satisfactory, After supper they sat around and told stories for awhile, and then as if tad = | grown dark Frank proposed. that they go + out aud ‘‘do the town.”’ . ‘“Scrate Gott!’ cried Harry. ‘What. do you expect to find in this town at this Do you think of attending the grand opera? or will you go: to the circus??? , “We might find something worth seé=~ ing, ” said Frank ‘(And we might find something we do™ not care to see—Ben Boze, for instamce,’’ ¥~ es Jack. ‘*T do not propose to keep under cover because Ben Boze is in town. -Tt wile make all the more trouble for-us 4m he gets the idea that we are trying to avout him.? : ‘Well, I really don’t andévetaiee ee grunted: Bruce. ‘‘ You heyer= exercise; = these, doing something. enough riding your motintain trails ?’’ “Oh, you may sit. still lav ghed Prank. <4 am going Don’t you ge’ wheel over and ‘Oh, Pl have to go along just toe cigars ~~ ‘*Drive ahead.”? eee Almost immediately on leaving =the hotel and reaching the dark strect of the town, the attention of the boys was at- tracted by the sound of music. ‘Listen!’ exclaimed Jack. does it come from ?’’ *‘Rrom that place,’’ said Frank, po ; ing toward the door of a saloon, ove My which was a large illuminated sign of a golden eagle. ‘‘And it was in front of that place that” we found trouble when town,’’ said Harry. 3 ‘‘And that is the place the strange mah of the white hair warned us to keep away! from,’’ added Jack. (Bo? goodness sakes, don’ Marser Frank!’ cried Toots. “Tam not going there,’’ said Merri§ ‘Where go dar, rest, ” ee ge for a stroll’ = Who'll come with me. , grumbled = we entered this» -* told the listeners had been deeply affected. FRANK MERRIWELL IN well; ‘‘but we will get a little nearer and | *. listen to the music.’ | They approached the open door of the} saloon, from which came the sad _ strains | ofa violin. The performér was playin “Home, Sweet Home,”’ the music brought a mist to the the boys. ‘Think,’ said Frank, his voice a trifle unsteady—‘‘think of hearing that tune in such a town aud such a place!’ “Su-su-say!? blubbered Toots, ‘‘dat music am gwat teh bre’k me all-aup! It meks meh wish I was back home mah- self.” When the tune was finished there came the sound of hearty applause from within the saloon. The boys drew nearer to the door. Then to their surprise, after a brief pause, they heard a sweet, childish voice uplifted | | in song, accompanied by the violin. | These are the words of the song to which | they listened : ~**Phe sun shines all the long, long day, But its light is not for me; The birdies sing their sweetest lay, But the birds I cannot see; I live here in the mountains high, Where the sun sinks down behind; I never see the sunset die, For I, kind friends, am blind. Oo > | and the sound oh.) eyes of CHORUS. ** Oh, I love the sweet, sweet summer time! And everybody’s good to me, And gran’pa he is very kind To the little girl who cannot see. ‘* My gran’pa says there’ll come a day When his girl shall truly see; But he hopes that time is far away, And he clings so hard to me. I think some day the light I’1l find, For he tells me this is so, ~ And tells me Jesus cured the blind On earth long years ago.’’ The sweet voice stopped, and the song itered a room ismall Was over. Now no burst of applause Caine from within the saloon, but there) was a suspicious clearing of throats that | Wo less affected were the listening boys | ‘outside. The childish voice had reached | “the hearts of every one, and even Bruce| Browning brushed his hand across his | - eyes in a manner that told there was a blur over thein. THE MINES, CHAPTER FATHER **Come,’ there.’?’ ‘Dp ‘‘Ren IV. AND CHILD. said Frank, ‘‘I am going in vember the warning of the man with the white hair,’’ came from Harry. ‘“Hane the man with the white hair! Those men in there can’t be very danger- ous after listening to that, and I want to see the singer. “So do I,”? admitted Jack be a mere chitd me ‘fAll right,’’ grunted Browning, who was interested, although he did not care to admitit. ‘‘Go ahead, Merriwell, and we'll tag along.”’ “Mah goodness!’’ murmured ‘Toots. “Ts gwan “teh bet a dollar dis means mo’ itrubble!”’ . Frank boldly walked into the saloon, and the others followed him. ‘They en- with a bar at onegide and catd tables at the other. At the farther end of the room was a faro lay- out, and that this was patronized by the rough men who worked in the mines was apparent. Sitting around the tables and on the tables were bearded, toil-stained men, while others were standing near the bar, behind. which were two dispensers of liquid refreshments. Standing in the middle of the floor were the minstrels of the camp, an old gray-bearded man, who had played the violin, and a beautiful golden-haired littlo girl, six or seven years of age, who had been singing. The old man was speaking, his voice unsteady with age and weakness. ‘‘Gentlemen,’’ he was saying in a shamefaced, hesitating way, as though he felt humbled by his position, ‘‘I reckon the most of you have heard of me and iknow I don’t live far from this camp. I have lived there at the foot of Shadder 1 64 Ai a Sg Settee ‘It must 1? |Mountain for near ten years, workigg my imine, and troubling nobody. Sone time my mine will pay—I know it. It is not paying now, and my money and provi- isions are all gone. That’s what brings me here with my little blind grand- daughter. Although she is blind she has been happy with me, and. her taste for }inusieds something wonderful. The words FRANK MERR c 4t 1 pe . } of the song she just sung she put to- ; | a 3 a 1 ae geth« TY, aSSistece: a. {1 ife by me. Cis nei id nd het sg { a ee 1aea anit nere Ci went 1 ne WUuSsic 1S 1 . } ‘ hers entirely Lh ot 1inproved upou : 17 oe ’ sas it at all, and I learned to play it by al ing her hum the air.”’ Cty 1 4 LD, 4-7 . (4 P By Jove muttered Rattleton. 6 ; . 4 Se eR 5S ge 7 : he isn’t lying, that is something wonder- 7" +4 ryt 1 | ei ‘ ea 9) ful! ‘Che child 1s a born musician. Hush! cautions d Frank as the old man went on speaking. For a year or more since discovering Little Blossom’s talent,’’ said the old ‘ 1 y i Z 17 r . man I have bent all my energies to ' } } 4 ; , ' ? 4 1 - sinking the shaft of my mine deeper, it rich right away, that I musical education to strike her erie hoping might give such a as she needs while she is yet young. J] have been unsuccessful. Somehow I have lost the lead 1 the mine + 1 74 ( fost the lead in the mine, and it not paying at all now.’’ ‘Ther vein never amounted ter shucks,’’ said a man near Frank, speak- ng toacompanion. ‘‘Old North has a crazy idee in his head that it must. pan out rich, but I reckon it has run out vood all now.”’ ‘‘T haven’t tl mine as it should 1e@ money to open i! be,’’ continued the ok man, ‘‘and so I have decided that I must try to find some other way to geta ving and raise money for Little Blossom to have her education. ‘T‘hat is why we are here to-night, and any assistance you can render us ciated.’’ Then Little irted to take up a.col appre- TOOK lection. 7 x ; 40 Lia Blossom he hat and IWE LL IN THE MINES. ring, in wore a diamond. glittered a huge aboutthe s, which were mustache, first appearance of. the little and t old man in the saloon had immediately stopped playing s full attention, any one been watching him closely would ha blind girl he Powers cards, and given them his ards, give! T . Had that ] seen him dtaw erson ve the wide brim of his hat down so it threw . shadow on his face, his manner seeming to indicate that he wished to conceal his fe tures ?T\1 - eee p c (ry 44 nied i nere was a iooK Of Satistaction on the | h la¢¢] ’s face when | 1eard the little sing, and it deepened as he listened words of the old man. Of a sudden he started as if struck and his ]ij man girl to 1 The by an idea, ips muttered ; ‘“There’s money in her! She’s blitidj wi she can sing. If the game is worked olit,; the fools out here in this c UY vill throw their money at her. Well ghe belongs to me—and I’]l have her!’ The final words were uttered aloudieee the man with whom Powers had BegH playing distinctly heard them. to take moved [t happened th: up the collection toward Powers. ‘Come here. I thing first.”’ it in starting out Littie Blossom ulled to her: want to give you Hee ce: some- She heard his voice and turned her face toward him, smiling sweetly. 9 cy j CONT ‘“Thark you, sir,’’ she said You i are one iso good? Everybody is so good! It seems At one of the card tables sat a man ; RAE 3 a ae 5 ; ; oa : a ‘ to me that the world is filled with good who had been in Silver Bluff less than | r < Seba ce oe |people, and I think gran’pa must be two a yet was well known, his repu-j|*.. ieee a ae : . +. |wrong when he says some.of them are tation having reached the place im ad- 19) : ‘ bad. vance of hin . ; | She-came toward him unsuspectingly Dhiat at was rn } ler a. ; rar | } 1 . , ; * hat man was a gambler—a poker] and he eagerly scanned her face. ‘ Z t 2 Was | 1} vIn OR Ts r } y m te) oe : sharp. He was kuiown generally by t! ‘“So*vyou are Little Blossom ?”’ he saj@e > yT } | bh] des ] ) ; hia o 3 Y : c ‘ Naime of] I oOubdledeai Dan, Dut 1€ was as he reached out and took hold OT her said that his real name“was Powe1 | hand. In a certain, coarse way he was rather! Somehow at his touch it seemed fiat good looking, having dark eyes, hair, | the child instinctively shrank from lait, mustache and imperial. He dressed ina ees she answered, and the sSmil¢é flashy manner, weating a fancy double-|had faded from her face, while there was breasted vest and a gaudy, wide-striped shirt. Across the front of the vest was strung.a heavy gold chain, and a darge horseshoe pin adorned hit»necktie: like sightless eyes. ‘*Well, Little 1 ence a look of fear in those 1g y Blossom,’’ said Double- He) @eal Dan, “‘l-want you.’ FRANK MERRIWELL IN THE MINES. ‘You—you want me?’’ she faltered. |‘ *‘T am sure I don’t know what you mean, sre.” “T want you to go with me.”’ “* Where?” ‘Oh, far away from here, where never be hungry, aud where you’ll al ways have fine,clothes and hear pretty music.’’ Oh, but I can’t go, sir, unless gran’pa goes, too. Is gran’pa going, too ” with your old gran’pa,’’ said the gambler, harshly. ‘‘He would be in the way.”’ ‘Then I can’t go, sir, for Pll leave gran’pa,’’ declared the child, draw- ing from him. ‘‘ Please let me go—please | do!”? ““Wait a minute, I want to tell you something. I have a right to take } you away, and I shall do it.”’ | ' ; ‘ ; : That frightened the child more than | wouldn’ t take her from me—you can’t be la | ever. A “No, no! she fluttered. ‘‘It’would ‘kilfme if I had to leave gran’pa! Why should you take me away ?”’ **Because I-am your father.”’ *“My father !’’ LY Oe you anything about your father ?”’ ‘No, never. He told me my mother is dead and an angel in Heaven, but he never would say anything about my} father. How can you be my father? You have never taken care oF nie and lived with me, same as gran’pa.’ ‘It has happened that way, but I am! your father just the same, and now I am * geing to take care of you and live with| you. I have lots of money, and.you shall ~ have everything you _want.”’ “IT don’t want anything if I can’t have my gran’pa!’’? sobbed the child, and the card sharp saw she was drawing attention by her apparent fear of him. “Just like her mother—at first,’’ he muttered. ‘‘And how much she looks dike her mother! I found a way to win ‘the mother, and I reckon I'll find a way to win the child.”’ _ Then it was that the old man, who had _ been watching them with a look of per- | plexity on his time-traced face, suddenly started and uttered a quavering cry ut astonishment and fear. pene} Bisson re he wildly called, you'll | | her behind him, as he arose to *‘No, I don’t propose to be bothered | Sey never | Hasn’t your gran’pa ever told | a > } 15 ‘come away from that man—come here j ye ’ servlet) |to gran’pa—quick ! a CHAPTER V. BLUFFING A BLUFFER. | Shaking with excitement and fear the lold man started toward the child, who tried to break from Douwbledeal Dan. The gambler held her fast and swung his feet, | | facing the old violinist. ‘You'll let her alone, if you know |'what is good for yourself, John North,”’ ‘came harshly from his lips. The old man halted, and his violin dropped with a clatter upon a table at his lside. He swe ayed as if with weakness, and a look of absolute terror came to his time- a Tack. ““No, no!’ he huskily gasped. ‘‘You as bad as that, man ?”’ ‘*T always take what belongs to me, ideclared Powers coldly. | A sudden rage seized on the old miner, land he straightened up, a marvelous fire lin his age-dimmed eyes. ‘And you take what does not belong ‘to you, you heartless wretch!’ he cried. “You are a gambler and a cheat! You rob men, and break the hearts of - inno- icent women !’’ | ‘Bah! you are crazy, old man! Every- ‘body knows you are crazy: That is why | you have stuck to your worthless mine- so long. It is a mercy to the child to take | her from you, for you are not able to give her the bare necessaries of life.” The crowd in the saloon was greatly excited by this time, and it gathered about the three principal actors in this little scene. Frank and the other lads were close behind the old man, with whom they, sytiipathized. as ‘Tt is a shame!’’ declared Jack Dia- mond. ‘*What right has that man to take the child from her grandfather??? — ‘/This thing will invest bearagating— %) tered Harry Rattleton. a _ Frank said nothing, but there was a _ look of determination on his handsome — “\face, while he missed not a word that was passing. I mean it will bear inv estigating!”’ Bee oe 16 The old man seemed to see that the sympathy of the crowd was with him, for he turned to them and made a_ pitiful appeal: ‘Don’t let him take her from me!”’ he begged. ‘‘She is all I have to live for in , the world—she is my very life! I shall die without her!”’ ‘‘And that will be a good riddance for the world,’’ sneered the gambler. ‘‘You have lived too long already.” ‘And you should never have been born, you ‘wretch!’ cried John North, his} mingled anger and distress being pitiful to witness. Vou have never brought any- thing but suffering and sorrow into the world. Give back the child tome! You shall not keep her!”’ The card sharp laughed, and the sound of that laugh was like a blow on the old man’s heart. John North staggered and clutched at his breast. ‘*He—he robbed me of her mother!’’ came huskily from the old miner’s lips. ‘“He robbed me of my son! His hands are stained with the blood of both! And now he would rob me of all there is left on earth that is dear to me!”’ He staggered, swayed and would have fallen, but Frank Merriwell was at hand, and the boy supported the old man with his strong young arins. In John North’s ear Frank gently and firmly said: ‘*Be calin. you.’’ Those words gave the old man new life and new hoype. ‘‘Keep the wretch from doing that, and God will bless you!’’ he gasped, **Boys,’’ said Merriwell, ‘‘we must take a hand in this.”’ Powers heard those words, laughed derisively. ‘*Better not, tenderfoot,”’ He shall not take her from and he he warned, ‘“The galoot who chips into my game un- asked closes his account with the bank mighty sudden. I have a right to this child, for I am her father.’’ ‘Ts that true?’’ Frank asked of the old man. **Ves, yes!’’ was the husky confession. ‘‘Tt is true, but he stole her mother from me—lured her away.’’ ‘*Stole her—bah! She was glad enough to marry me, for I had money to burn. FRANK MERRIWELL IN THE MINES. She didn’t have much sense anyhow, and ™ ~~ that is why we didn’t get along as well as we might.’ ‘*She was a girl—scarcely more than a child,’’ declared North. ‘‘She was inno- cent—she knew nothing of the ways of the world. ‘That is why she was foolish enough to run away with you against my wishes. I warned her, for I knew the sort of a man you were; but you had asmooth tongue, and you coaxed her from me. [I knew you would abuse her, and I knew ishe would come back sometime. Every night I put a light .in the window that she might find her way to my cabin. One night in midwinter one wild, stormy night she came back. She brought Little Blossom with her. She had fled from you in horror when she saw you shoot down Victor, her brother—Victor, ny boy. He had found her, and you had not hesitated to stain your hands with blood.”? ‘“In self-defense, my dear sir,”’ said Powers, blandly. «y Was niever accuse of murder. ‘Then I. accuse you now!?? dibited John North. ‘‘My poor girl, the mother of Little Blossom, whom she brought to me in her arms, died that night in my cabin. She sleeps at the foot of Shadder Mountain, ani Blossom keeps. her grave covered with flowers all the year when snow is not on the ground. You killed her, as you killed my boy! And now would rob me of her child—my little blind darling !”’ *‘Gran’pa! gran’pa!”’ fred the Little girl, struggling to rush to him. : The rough men stirred, then there an ominous muttering, and scowling were turned towatd Dan Powers. The gambler did not miss those looks, and he knew the sentiment of the crowd was against him. ‘“The fools!’’? he muttered, and his red lips curled disdainfully under the black mustache. “Tf the child were oldere he said, ‘she would prefer to go with me, as did her mother before her, for I have money and you are poor.”’ Then it was that Frank Merriwell stepped forward and boldly faced Powers, quietly saying: ‘“‘Under the circumstances, my dear sir, -PRANKeMERRIWELE IN THE MINES. | you. - i ape ‘ releasé the child. You rove her mother to death, it seems, and you have never cared enough for Little Blossom to find out if she were alive or dead. She has become attached to her gratidfather, and it is not riglit for you to take her away.’’ ‘*Tndeed!’’ exclaimed the card sharp, elevating his eyebrows. ‘‘How long since you were chosen to decide in this matter ?”’ ‘“‘T have the right that any person has to aid the weak and oppressed against the strong and cruel. I know lam backed up by the sentiment of the crowd present. Ain I right, gentlemen ?”? Then as if aroused at last, the rough wmen cried: ‘*Vou. ate right!” The smile of scorn curled Doubledeal ’s lips still more. And do you think I will be bluffed Dy @ gang of galoots like this?’’ he ex- clait ed, ‘*Why, the whole crowd can’t child from me! I am its father, Mewill keep it. The first one who tries to interfere will eat lead!’ His free hand rested: on, his hip, and | ; ; iseemed to say that one hand did not make .a whole game and he had not gone broke everybody knew he was ready to draw. Frank Merriwell showed no signs of fear. “‘Will you permit the child. to say whether she chooses to go with you or her grandfather ?’’ Frank asked. “Why should 1?” ause you must!?? f@ words were not spoken londly, Pvet they were distinctly heard by every person in the room. ‘They did not Meme from Frank Merriwell’s lips, but fie Speaker was a man who had stepped from a chair to the top of a table, where he stood, a long-barreled revolver in his half uplifted hand. Although that re- volver was but partly raised it was point- ing directly at Dan Powers. ‘“The man from Mexico!’’ exclaimed many voices. The eyes of the man with the white hair and the gambler met squarely. There was a dead silence, finally broken by the icy voice of Smith, who said: “It might be better for all concerned, sir, if you were to remove your hand from the proximity of your hip. If you try to get out a gun in doing so I shall shoot you,.’’ to tut-take me away from you! 17 There was no sign of bluster about this; but ‘the manner in which it was spoken proved that Smith would do ex- actly as he said. Powers was chagtrined, but he did not- display it. Instead, with all the coolness he could command, he said: : “*All right, my friend. I see you have the drop on me, and although 1 know nothing of the quality of your marksiuan- ship, I do not care to have you shoot at me. He removed his hand. **Now,”’ said Smith, “‘let go of that child, and permit her to stay with you or go to her grandfather as she chooses.’’ *“'Very. well, sir.” Powers released Little Blossom, and with a cry of joy she ran into the old man’s arms. CHAPTER. VI. SOFTENED HEARTS. : The bluffer had been bluffed, but he accepted the situation .with the non- chalance of a veteran gambler. His face on the first pot. There was another time coming, and he had a few cards up his sleeve. At the first sound of Smith’s voice, John North had turned to look at him in a startled, wondering way, but after some seconds the old man shook his head, muttering: ‘*No, no! I’ve never seen him before.’ The old miner caught Little Blossom in his arms and covered her tear-stained face with kisses, while she clung to him and sobbed. ‘There, there, my poor darling!’ he said, his hand shaking as it tenderly brushed back her hair, ‘‘don’t cry any more—don’t cry! It hurts your poor old gran’pa when you cry.”’ ‘*J—I don’t wa-want to hur-hurt you, gran’pa,’’ sobbed the little blind girl : “hut he fuf-frightened me so! Oh, I really and tr-truly thought he was going That would have killed me, _gran’pa—that would have killed mel’? ~ ‘I didn’t think God would be cruel enough to let him take you from me,” murmured John North. ‘‘Surely God has 18 let me suffer enough, without finishing my tottering life with such a blow!” He kissed her again, and a cheer went up from the rough men in the place, as the child’s arms were about the old man’s neck, and her golden hair mingled with ‘his snowy locks, ‘“T_-thank—you—my~ friends,’ said John North, slowly, and with deep eino- tr, SE th ank tliis young man’’—indi- cating Frank—*‘‘who was the first to dare to take the part of a helpless old man..' I hank that stranger who stands on the table—I thank every one! And now,’’ he solemnly added, ‘‘let us thank God.”’ Then he knelt there on the floor, in the middle of that saloon, and his old, un- steady voice rose in prayer. Frank Merriwell and his _ friends, standing nearest the old man and the little girl, were the first to uncover and bow their heads. ‘when the others did so, and the hat of every one in that saloon, with the exception of that belonging to Dan Powers, was immediately removed. Some of the men actually knelt. Powers sat there, a look of disdain on his cruelly handsome face. He had lighted a black cigar, and at that he puffed quite coolly. But he was not allowed to sit thus. ‘*Remove your hat!’’ The command rang through: the room _in the midst of the prayer. Powers looked up and saw that the man from Mexico had spoken, and was again handling his long revolver in a manner that seemed to indicate a desire to shoot. . \ It occurred to the gambler at once that the man of the white hair was looking for a good excuse to shoot him, now that Little Blossom was not near. Immediately with a graceful bow and a swinging motion, the card sharp re- moved his hat, and placed it on the table at his. side. His lips smiled, but there was a mad tumult of fury within his heart. He hated the man who had thus humbled him, and he swore that he would find a way to even matters with Smith, It was a most remarkable in that rough mining camp and that com- -mon saloon. A stranger, coming in sud- -denly and failing to note the bar and] scene there} FRANK ME RRIWLLL IN THE MINES. small tables, would have supposed he, had struck a prayer meeting. ; An eloquent prayer came from the ge of John North. He asked God’s blessing — on the friends who had stood by him, he asked that Little Blossom might be spared — him, and he asked God to soften the heart of the unnatural father. Then when he had finished Little Blos-- som prayed, and her sweet, childish voice, her innocent words, everything served to” touch the rough listeners and move them. as they had not been moved before. ‘*Dear Lord,’’ she said, ‘‘I am so glad - you did not Jet me be taken away from — my good old gran’pa! He has always been so good to me! Dear Lord, bless © gran’pa, and bless them that kept me from being taken from him. I don’t, know anything about the man who says __ he is my father, but Edo know about my gran’pa, and I do not want to leave him’ ever at all. I don’t want you to hurt my father, dear Lord, if he is bad, but Luz you would make him good and kind, ju like my gran’pa. ‘That is all, dear : but I reckon perhaps you is goin’ to hear and ’member what a little blind girl says who never can see till she goés* fo Heaven. When she gets there, my gran’, pa says she’ll see you, dear Lord, who. a so good to everybody, and she'll see he own angel mamma, who is up there now Oh, the little blind girl does want tos her mamma'some time! Amen!’ .. And from the lips of .every person, ins that saloon, with a single exception, camer a fervent : - A nren) 2s Theold man and the ee ato their feet, aud then men _crowded ‘TO them, crying: . “‘Hold-yer hat, Leetle Blossom, i wi has got somethin’ tet pive yer Pes She heard them, and smiled such sweet smile, as she held her hat with a hands. Then eame a rain of gold ae si é money into that hat—a rain that aston ished and amazed the old man and th girl, for the hat — ae. heavy t hold. “Ts it *all money, Scan! pa? DE: Little Blossom, wonderingly. 5 Ht 36 all money, | my dear one! FRANK MERRIWELLIN THE MINES. © teply, spoken with deep emotion, *and it is all for you.”’ “Why, how good they are!’’ cried the aid; ‘‘Oh, Ithank you all! You are ¥ ood—too good !”’ eenot by a dern sight!’’ declared a parpe voice that had a husky sound. mairter hearin’ that yar pra’r, I’m reddy | Peive yer my last ounce o’ dust, an’ fyat she am!”’ ©it was Ben Boze who spoke, and—| onders of wouders—the man’s face and | shis beard were still wet with tears—his wes were red with weeping! “Ben Boze, bruiser and ruffian, walked | ap and flung the last dollar of money he| oa possessed in the world into that hat! FP ragk Merriwell gaspedfor breath, and then he erasped Boze by the arm, saying: | “Tf that breaks you, come to me when yOu need money... You can have any t hs «< So . %) Orrow. Whatever is that?’’ hacker, surprised. Say that ye’d lend me money ?”’ asked the. bull- a 2 Ves.) You have a heart in your) bosom, and you are a white man, for all Mat you have seemed something differ- E mt, Imeanit. Come tome when you | 4. 9wautanoney.’’ “*Wa-al, may I be derned!’’ muttered "Boze, as he moved away in a stupefied jammer, no less surprised by the offer of mthe tenderfoot than the tenderfoot had sbeen by his action in giving the little lind girl all the money ‘he possessed. After a time, Little Blossom put the ® heavy with money, on a table, say- | her grandfather, with a happy > *"Wihy, what a lot of it there must be! We ate rich now, gran’pa! We’ll never be diumety again, and I can learn to play dd Sing, as you have said I‘should some iy 9 a "Qh, my friends!’’ said the old man, titude in his face and voice, ‘‘you yandeed, been too good to us! think I see the hand of Providence | ‘this !’” tit the money in your pocket,’’ ad- Frank. .‘‘I would not stop to here, if I-were you.”’ feated “that “it was spose somre Se cos Ta 3 onable amount that you may want to! **Ver don’t mean ter | 19 \low-minded wretch in the crowd might ‘have his greed aroused by the sight of so much money and the knowledge of its real value. ““T will. do so,’’ said John North. '**You were the first to stand by me against that man, and I will take your advice. Ah, my young friend! all this is very wonderful to me.’’ | “You must go home at once, and take | Little Blossom with you.’’ “*T will do so.”’ : ‘*Have you provisions at your home ?’’ ‘"No. Everything has been eaten up.”’ ‘“How far away do you live ?”’ ‘“‘A little over a mile.”’ | » “Remain here in the saloon till I and my friends obtain provisions for you. |We will escort you to your home, and see that you get there all right.”’ Then Frank and Jack hurried -out to | purchase provisions for the man and the \little blind girl, and they soon returned loaded with all the bags and bundles and |packages they could carry. The provisions were divided among ithe five boys, so each should carry his 'share, and they soon were ready to start ‘for the old miner’s cabin, ‘‘An’ I am gotn’ right erlong as guard |fer all thet yar dust,’? announced Ben |Boze. ‘‘Ef any galoots tries ter jump us, Ili pump ther p’izen varmints so dern ‘full o’ holes that his hide won’t hold ‘husks! ‘Thet’s whatever !”? | Then the little party left the saloon, |the big bullwhacker marching along in }advance, with a revolver in either hand, |John North and his blind granddaugh- 'ter coming next, walking hand in hand, | while the bicycle boys, loaded with the | purchased provisions, followed behind. The men of the camp escorted them to | the outskirts, and then gathered in a mass 'to cheer and cheer and cheer, till the imountain sides flung back their hoarse roaring in a hundred frantic echoes. CHAPTER VII. A JOLLY PARTY, | With a “‘gun”’ in either hand, his raw- | hide whip hitched to his belt, the lash | trailing behind, Ben Boze, the bully and ‘terror of Silver Bluff, led the way toward John North’s, cabin. | Behind him walked the old man and 20 the little blind girl, both happy with| childish: joy. Little Blossom sang, and | her grandfather laughed. Then both} paused to listen, and the girl said: “Hear them cheering now back at the town, gtan’pa! Did you ever think the| town was full of such good men, | gran’pa?”’ | “‘No, no!’’ confessed the old man, ‘‘I| never dreained that town could have so; many good men init! Sometimes I have | thought it was full.of bad men, but [| know I was wrong.’’ A grunt came from the bullwhacker in advance. ‘“Thar’s a heap sight better men back | thar now than thar wuz a few hours ago, I reckon,’’ he said. The bicycle boys, loaded with pro- visions, were following along behind. ‘What do you think about it, Frank ?”? asked Jack Diamond. ‘‘It seems to me that I dreamed all this that has hap- pened before my eyes to-night.”’ “Tt is remarkable,’’ declared Frank. ‘Tt goes to prove that there may be some good-in those who seein lowest and most depraved.’’ | ‘“’There’s no telling what a man will do in a case like this,’’ puffed Brown- ing. ‘‘Look atme! An hour ago you could not have made me believe I would sack a load of stuff like this over sucha confounded road through the darkness for anybody or anything.”’ ‘‘Mah gracious!’ put in Toots. “Dat | 4 | am de mos’ wonderful fing ob all, sho’s 1) | them. FRANK MERRIWELL IN THE MINES. ting to rob the old man and the MWittle gitl. If he gave them everything, as» he did back in the saloon, he could put upa big bluff that he knew nothing about such a tobbery, and suspicion might not fall on him as quickly as otherwise.”? “Tand ob watermillions!”? gasped” Toots, in sudden fear, ‘‘Dat ma-a-an has got all de shootin’ iroris dar am in dis whole pahty. What if he should take a noshun into his haid to use dem_ shooters on us? Lordy! but it meks meh hab de , ‘cold persfirations all ober mah body jes’ teh fink about dat!’ ‘‘And he may be plotting something of the kind,’’ whispered Jack. ‘‘Perhaps that is the very reason why he was so ready to come along with us.’’ s “T don’t believe it,’? declared Frank, ‘“T do not want to think it-—-not even of him.’”? ‘The trouble with you,’’ said Jack, a trifle-sharply, ‘‘is that you always try to make yourself believe everybody is all right. You seem to dislike to think any® body can do wrong and be vicious.” ‘Well,’ said Frank, slowly, “isn’t that better than it would be if I suspected everybody of being crooked and bad ??’ ‘‘T don’t know.”’ i ‘“T do. I don’t think everybody is_all right all the time. I know the best fellow in the world is bound to be in the wrong sometimes. I am sure that I make mistakes, myself, and° I hope not to be judged too harshly for: I tell you it seems to me that yeh bawn, chilluns levery one should say in his heart he will ‘“What do you think of Ben Boze’s| not judge others harshly, as he may dé- . sudden change of heart, Frank??? asked | sire pity some time himself.”’ = Harry. ‘All right, all right,’’ muttered Jacky. “Tt was one of the most surprising |‘‘You have preached that along time, and =~ things of the evening.’ /you have practiced it. I think you might ~ “But do you think it was genuine?’’| have got along better in the pastif you — asked Diamond, cautiously. ‘‘Do youjhad been somewhat more rigid with” think ‘the fellow really is changed ?”’ isome of your enemies. I don’t suppose ~ = AYE. lanything will change you though. “Alha2@ ‘But you can’t be sure of it.’’ ithe same, I shall not be surprised if this: ‘‘Of course not, but he seemed genuine man Boze shoots every one of us before: when he flung all the money he had into, we reach the old man’s cabin.”? se the hat of Little Blossom.”’ | Nothing of the kind occurred, how- ‘That may have been a trick to fool | Ver. The cabin was reached at last, ; those w10 saw it.” ;with Shadow Mountain towering black. “What sort of a trick? Why should | and grim above it. ig: he play a trick ?”’ | John North went in, Blossom accom~= ‘He is a ruffian, and he may be plot-|panying him, and lighted the. one ‘oil —~——#tiest he: < MERRIWELL lanip he possessed. ‘Then tl tered, B ling in in< Boys, having thrust their leather holsters. . Wa-al, hyar we am!’ cried th With an attempt < hearty cl » An’ we got hyar all right, too. m@ galoot dar’. tackle us fer that Doodle. Et they hed—wa-al, I vided a subjec’ fer a funeral ter-morrer.”’ ‘Lhe boys piled the provisions on the tude. table | that. table was loaded. ~’ Now, ’ said Frank, Want you to ¢ gear, what you can « way =: up a Pe >in “ave a joll od meal here der.’’ PEW a-al. don’t judge $04 reckon I’d better [ot by a long Frank. fortable «as , 445 IZE Strit hi S nar d pro- i an gayly, “1 and .show of cooking. boys. in short Toots,’ et into in the +1, the ste Ve, y > 1 LO Rey i 2 said Boze, he sitating ls ly, cy git out.’’ distance You TO Boze ° g tackle ; when : al VV a-dai, 1er and sat. down built, water was his | IN THE MIN RI ‘nim howered DiOssoOili Oye ' look of happin a+ man that it with a feelin ind there 1eatly fainted wh | Ton W stripped of coa Let? 5 | W] hat < OT-| I’m needed Hyar no longer, |a little of the culi: cried | some morsels for your pan ; lust you mn< ike yourself as COll- seis and sit down. a | j | | | } -|’Toots to eet Las wish hii namet, e : ‘this hot stove. tender- | ter? shine ter | ter | | pleasures. | young ing ‘Toots about the ‘*Here! here! well. ‘‘Have you re you doing ?’’ here mea nat. gyone dal ‘Be kind man,’”’ ‘You may -not be wihins AGIA # | 4 te 44 en wae <7 > aware that KnOW not TT inary art, and I have Taint c 1 +1, dainty and tooth- ipered appetite. ry art | decided to prepare some I A 33 night, igh !”? “Don t this many suTe enoi think you work, cooks “This is a crazy 1 Frank. ‘Foots ghec you ; tter know 93 let co lau be % You too broth. “Now don’t let that worry in the least, my friend. “I am simply aiding hurry things along, as I do not to ruin coinplexion over you his So Bruce was left to assist the colored boy, which he continued to do, to the un- bounded astonishment of Merriwell, Rat- tleton and Diamond. Frank talked with Little Blossom, and she told him all about her life and her He found she was, indeed, | happy, although she was blind. (as the heat of the brought from a spring not far away, and| relieved of his coat ed up, exposing elbows, began Toots, and sweater, his sleeves atims above the a meal. The face of worked, as “Suwanee River, Home,’’ ‘‘Nellie Gray,’ rOld John North was rol] 5) 5 and so forth. given f the colored boy shoneas he} his black} to prepate | The door of the cabin was kept open, stove made it rather warm within. Toots set the table. dishes was limited, to decided there would round by washing The supply of be sure, but it was be enough to them ‘‘between x go | courses. ’’ } the most} | as he sat back in the corner C@mifortable chair in the cabin, and Little| what was taking place! % What a jolly party it was! How they and he whistled gayly such tunes| laughed and joked and talked! And what “Old Folks at | a supreme look of contentment and satis- | faction there was on the face of Ben Boze, and watched The big bull- 22 whacker had not been so happy in many a long day. Suddenly, without a word of warning, Frank darted out of the open door and disappeared. A moment later, there was . a struggle and a fall beneath of the cabin. ‘‘Something is up—something has hap- pened !”’ cried Diamond, as he plunged after Frat asound of a window rik before the others boys appeared, A short time later, could follow, the two dragging a man into the cabin. ‘That man was Crooked Pete, formed ruffian of Silver Bluff. the de- a4 aL CHAPTER: VIFI. THE FEAST. y »? “‘T saw him looking inat the window, explained Frank, ‘‘and I caught him, be- fore he realized he had been detected.’’ The hunchback gave a snarl and a twist, freeing one of hisarms and flinging Frank forward. The boy’s foot struck against something, and he his hands and knees. In a moment, with the swiftness of a flash of lightning, Crooked Pete snatched out a glittering Knife, and lifted it above the back of the fallen boy. That knife did not descend. ““Stiddy thar!”’ It was a hoarse shout, and, quick as had been Crooked Pete’s movements, the movements of Ben Boze were even quicker. The bullwhacker’s hand caught the wrist of the hunchback and arrested the knife in midair. ‘Then Boze gave that wrist a twist that caused Pete to utter a whining gasp of pain and drop the knife. The big man picked up the blade and flung it out through the open doorway, where it disappeared in the darkness. By this time Frank was on his. feet, but he realized that Boze had saved his life. ‘*Whatever shall I do with ther onery critter?”’ the bullwhacker asked, speak- ing to Frank. ‘‘Anythine you like,” dropped on| } | } | | | | was the reply. | FRANK MERRIWELL IN THE MINES. 'nailed him. I-thank vou for keeping him from Knifing me.’’ ‘Don’t mention it. varmint.”’ ‘“What’ll you do?’ sneered Crooked | Pete. ‘‘Whatever is ther matter with lyou, anyhow? What kind o’ a game be lyou playin’ with these yar tenderfeet ? 'Go in with me, and we’ll do ther hull |crowd, an” pull off with ther rocks. ”’ ‘Not any, critter.. I hey turned over anew leaf this yar might. No crooked business fer me in ther futur’.’’ ‘“Baly! I know what ye’re tryin’ ‘ter work. Ye’re gettin’ in with ther tender- feet, an’ ye’re goin’ ter do ’ : ea : I'll fix ther p’izen ! g ’em wiren they }ain’t watchin’, an” git erway with all ther dust yerself.””’. **Ve’re a derned liar!’ roared. Boze. ‘An’ I’m goin’ ter make yer wish -yer ltedn’t said that, you bet!”’ A moment later the whip was. in the \big man’s hand, and he dragged the thunehback out of the cabin. ‘Them those |within heard the sound of heavy blows Land shrill yells of pain. “Tt’lkdo yer good, ye little skunk!” roared the hoarse votce Ben Boze, “Take that! and that! and that! ° Now git! And ef I find yer roumd yere ag7im, dernied ef I don’t fill ye full o” lead! 'That’s whatever!’ Frank Merriwell’s hand fell on the arm lof Jack Diamond, and they stood listem ‘ing as the sound of the cracking -whipt rand the yelling hunchback receded, tell- ling that the bullwhacker was putsuimg |Crooked Pete and using the rawhide as he ran. Paes jo Kes; brane? | ‘Did I make a mistake in trusting | Ben Boze?”? | Jack shifted his position uneasily, and |then said: Pa ae but—— | “But what??? cried Merriwell, im as ‘tonishment. ‘‘Great Scott! _Didn’t you see the man save my life?’ Sees: “Well, that is enough. of Us doesn’t look as if you didy: If Boze had %) a: “T saw him looking im at the window, |not been here, Crooked Pete would have | and I thought it would be a good plan to| succeeded in striking me in the back with= know who he was, soI dodged out and that knife, and that would have meanta gg = sy >p FRANK MERR funeral, for dec tae}corpse. COT A A Have provi a modded Rat when I saw that knife to teach him impo, DB Whorcoul al feevas plain that eee finall: peed Lis m:z airtight, bi Riew, and thaug al bie guffan ma order to geta See scheme li was smail fat alataned by she was abl the two rou m1 the blows of Whip and the cries of Crooked Pete. John North did feats of the little blind girl, Prank took his turn, after a time. >] med to be mOSSOI Sseeni¢ 15 1t 11 I a OWT: AI 4 al been king 4+ uc rough words of he y en, all he could to calm at which ; — < Yt 7 mt? POO Linc i he sound of Merriwe! mi /know you,’’ are the on: first to try to mak Dagk to gran’pa. She held took them I like vou,’’ she you kiss me, same as Frank looked at modded sruiled, the little blind girl. Ci €¢¢ aX a “CV 011 town, Wwas S1Ve Wilo 4 we } NO a. “Won't gran’ pa does ?”’ old man, he W ho and and kissed << 9 Now, say!’’ cried Harry; ‘‘I Won’t fnk that’s thair—I mean I don’t think that’s fair! Where do the rest of us come im,’ “Come 1 plexity. “Ves, where We are all friends of Frank Merriwell, and we were ready to stand by him when he went to your aid down in the saloon.”’ ““Then,’’ laughed the child, holding mp her lips, ‘‘J want to kiss you all.” Harry took his turn, Jack followed, amd Bruce kissed her tenderly, in -his awkward way. n?’? asked Blossom, in per- do we get our IWELL kisses?) IN ‘THE MINES. ; colored boy turne 1 back © . 1 his hand an a flower, ob dem blue 1 puffec’ly ay By the came slouchin¢’ Time Liill touches, about Crooked ag’in very i SOon. frank Gave the puiiwhack ; 1. ally : T1919 ul Vy, tenderfoot!’?’ ver wouldn’t pile it on so thick! all! I didn’t W1 you treated me like vuza white 1 lappene arter all that | Say 7 Silver Bluff" keep even with you, ‘*Well, you have more tha t even with me, for I am in now, and nan, strc lz SITUCK r debt ithat for my very life. “Feroit it. It don’t ’mount ter north- in’—er, I don’t mean that the bull- whacker ‘hastily added, seeing he had said something he did not -intend to ut- ter. ‘‘I mean it’s all right. Somehow I’m all twisted an’ tang] i 1) ed up.’ The little party sat down to the table, tand a pleasant meal i Old John North asked the ‘‘blessing,’’ and the | words that fell from his lips were strange- t was. i a4 ly eloquent. Little Blossom said ‘‘amen,’’? in her sweet, childish way, and then the feasting began. Never before had the old cabin at the foot of Shadow Mountain resounded to such hearty bursts of laughter, never be- fore had such a merry party gathered be- neath its roof, never before had there been | such a meal served on the rude table. Toots waited on the table with the flourish and skill of an ‘‘aristocratic ser- vant.’’ Of course he felt more freedom than he would have felt in serving a New York millionaire, for he ventured to | crack a joke now and then, and he laughed when the others joked. Frank was happy. He told some stories that made Blossom laugh, and brought a smile to the sad face of the old man. He chaffed his friends, and even ventured to ‘‘jolly’’ Ben Boze. And Boze—he was the wonder of the evening. He actually beamed with pure satisfaction, and he took Méerriwell’s ‘*jollying’’ as if it were most agreeable. ‘Tt ain’t goin’ ter fergit this night ef I live ter be older then ther Rockies,’’ he declared. ‘‘I hed begun ter think thar wuzn’t no fun in anything but loadin’ up with razzle-juice an’ paintin’ ther town, but I’ve found out that’s a big mistake. That yar kind o’ fun can’t hold a candle ter this, derned ef it kin! I ruther reckon I’m done with that kind o’ fun fer good an’ all.” Bruce Browning ate and ate, as if he had not been able to get a square meal since Jeaving the last. He seemed to swell as he ate, till the boys expressed a fear that he would burst if he did not stop, but still he continued to get away with the food before him. ‘I won’t strike another lay-out like this efore we reach ’Frisco,’’ he declared. ‘I’m going to lay ina stock of provisions to last a long distance.’’ ‘‘And we’ll have to provide another stock of provisions for Mr. North in the morning,’’ laughed Frank. After the meal was over, while ‘T'oots washed the dishes, Ben Boze sat in a cor- ner once more, and smoked a very black pipe, while John North tuned up the violin and prepared to give them some music, FRANK MERRIWELL IN THE MINES. | ‘The old man, despite his years, was a | wonderful performer on the instrument, |and the ‘‘Last Rose of Summer’’ seemed 'to be his favorite. | Finally Little Blossom sang, and her | grandfather accompanied her. ‘The boys ‘asked for the song they had heard im the Golden Eagle, and she vave it. ‘ward she sang other songs, and it was ‘evident that she had a marvelous voice. | Finally, the old man gave her thesgio- lin, and she astonished the boys by “her iskill as a player. ‘“‘Do you wonder I want her to havea ‘musical education ?’? asked John North. ‘*No,’’ answered Frank. ‘‘She should | have 1t,’’ ‘‘Musicis the delight of her soul,”’ said ‘the old man. ' ‘Yes, yes!’? murmured the blind girl, a ‘look of rapture on her face. ‘‘It seems ito carry me away, away, away! Some- times it seems to carry me to the very | 84 | mother is!’? | Ben Boze dropped his pipe, and it | broke on the floor. His head was bowed, ‘and he was shading his eyes from the light, as 1f it hurt them. He did not 'seei to inind that his pipe was broken: | After a little time, Blossom asked the | boys if they could not sing. Frank was |utged to sing first, and he did so. He jhad a beautiful bartione voice, and eould After-. te of heaven, where my dear angel” |yodle wonderfully. He sang two yodling ar Ee ‘songs, which filled Blossom with inex=— | pressible delight. | crying: ‘Sing them again! sing them again{™ So he was obliged to sing them again, after which all the boys sang, ‘Toots “hearing down heavy’’ with his bass voice. They sang the college songs so ‘often heard at Old Yale, ‘‘Stars ‘of the {Summer Night,’ ‘‘Nellie Was a Lady,” ‘*Solomon Levi,’’ ‘‘Old ‘*Uralio,’’ and so forth. While they sang Little Blossom felt She clapped her hands, her flower-like face. old man alone with the treasure he valued more than all things else in the world— more than his very life. Man Moses,’’. asleep in her grandfather’s arms, a smile7> |of perfect happiness and contentment on ~~ = Then, silently they arose and filed out into the night, leaving the white-haired ~ “4 ae a gles. ‘ ¢ FRAN K CHAPTER IX. POWERS. 8 TRIK ES. Directly after break morning, Frank mounted rode away toward the cabin North. It was a beautiful morning in the moun- tains, with the sun just rising over the eastern peaks, and Frank felt light and buoyant. He whistled as he pedaled along. Abruptly coming in sight of the cabin at the foot of Shadow Mountain, he was fast the his pa of ol following and 1 John MERRIWELL IN ¢ iing down the trail toward the town, 25 THE MINES. or the youth would tire him out and-get the best of him. Sean the revolver by Powers brought the butt of down on Merriwell’s head with force Frank dropped to the ground, he lay motionless. Then it was that Little Blossom saved Frank’s life. She was running scream- and the barrel, the weapon stunning where | Powers did not feel like stopping to shoot astonished to see three persons near the| door, one of whom was the gambler Powers. ‘That wretch is there to make for the old man and the child!” ex- claimed Frank. ‘‘I must see what I can do about it.’ Swiftly he drove his bicycle Still watching, he saw John North try to take Little Blossom into the cabin, saw Poubledeal Dan strike the old miner a teirible blow that felled North to the eround, saw Powers catch up the child, and heard the blind girl scream with ‘ter- ror. Then Frank drove his spinning Straight at the gambl er, crying: ~ Drop that child, you ruffian }’ Powers ‘spent in astonishment, ing Little Blossom with his right and holding her, despite her wild He saw ape Mertrriwell, stepped aside in time to avoid the boy, With a spring i re ice was off the wheel. He did not hesitate to make a rush for 9 1S clasp- arm, strug- and mthe ithnan. Uttering a snarl, volver and fired. Frank had seen the movement and rea- lized his peril. Down he ducked, just as thegevolver spoke, and the bullet cut Within an inch of his head. SDhen Frank Of the inan and grappled with him. Powers was forced to drop Little Blos- Som.and give his entire attention to his Mervy and determined assailant. BAS it was, although he wasa heavy and Beeenowerful man, the gambler barely kept % gh Sitianself from being Furie’ to the ground, Muickly he seuietsed his revolver , feel- ing, that he must end the struggle e at once, the fallen boy, although he longed to do so. ‘‘T must catch her before she arouses the town,’’ he said, as he ran after the little girl. trouble | Later, when Frank recovered, he sat lup and saw old John North wandering forward. | wheel | Powers tore out a re- rushed in under the arm jher, and he would aimlessly around the cabin, muttering to himself, ‘‘Great Christmas!’ etly touching his head. did give me a thump! cranium aches!’? He was not a little dazed himself, but he remembered what had taken place and he wondered where Blossom and Powers could be. Getting upon his feet, to question John North. The old man paid no attention to him as he approached, but continued to mutter and stare around on the ground. ‘“Here!’’ cried the boy, catching him by the arm, ‘‘where is Little Blossom ?’’ “Don’t bother me!’’ weakly whined the old miner. ‘‘I’m |] I’m hunting for it!’ ‘‘Hunting for what?’’ ‘“The lost lead to my mine, of course. Where is it? I’m‘sure I didn’t put it in iny pocket.”’ Put 401g Frank, aghast. ank, ging- hat fellow Mercy! how my > cried Fr er the lad hustened ly gasped put your pocket ?”” ‘“How could you such a thing in your pocket ?’’ You bother me, "way. aud [I “Oh, I don't know! and my head is throbbing so! I must have hidden it somewhere, will find it.’’ Go ‘‘Man, man!’ shouted to him: ‘‘where is Little he carried her away ?’’ ‘“Ves, he carried her John North. ‘‘He said give her Frank, clinging Blossom? Has away,’’ nodded he would marry money and FRANK MERRIWE 26 fine clothes. She left her poor old daddy and went away with him; but she came back. one night—one terrible night. How the wind howled! She came back | to die!—I wonder where it is,’’ he mut- tered, feebly feeling in his pockets. must find 1t again. want to find it, for she is dead, fee! that I must.’ but still I, Frank started back, horror written on | his face, “The mat is mad!’? h North gave him no further but continued to wander about, the ground and muttering incoherently. **His brain is turned at Iast!” sadly from-the boy. courpleted the overthrow of his reason.”’ Then Frank quickly back to.Silver Bluff and tell the whole town what had happened. Powers must be pursued, 3lossom should be taken from time should be lost in this. Frank’s -wheel lay on- the ground, where it had fallen. He ram to It, pick ed it wp, vaulted into the saddle. Back to Stlver Biuff flew the boy. Ben Boze was the first person he met on | e whispered. attention, him. entering the town, and he stopped long) enough to tell the bre bullwhacker what had happened. ‘The ornery varmint!”’ “Tl hev a gang arter him in two shakes 0’ a muel’s hind hoof! He) shan’t tote ther little gal off—not by er| long shot!?’ Then Frank hastened on to the hotel, where he found the boys, who were won- dering where he had gone. W hen he had told them what had|* taken place, they were greatly excited. ‘We'll have to follow the ruffian and take her from him!’’ wildly declared | Browning. ‘‘I don’t know how I am go- _ ing to do it, for I’ve scarcely been able to | crawl since ‘th at meal I[ ate last might, but I am ready to do everything I can.’” | *“Get your wheels, boys!’ cried Frank. | ‘‘We will ride to the cabin without de-| lay. Boze is getting wpa party of citi-| zens to take the trail, and we must be) with them.”’ of | “Or ahead of them,’’ nodded Diamond. this town overtake Powers, we'll have a| ; shouted Boze. | | ; } | | | **Say,’” cried Harry, “if the men Set I don’t know why I': gazing at | came'| ‘This last blow fas decided to ride! | and Little No| | ‘*What’s the use toraise such a row! less than | es mouth with LLIN THE MINES. 'good chance. to litness a winching—I | mean witness a: lynching.’ ‘‘And that will be the sort of justice Powers deserves,”’ came coldly from | Jack. “‘Mah_ gracious!’ gurgled - Toots. ‘Dis coon nebber see no such places fo’ |Tumpuses as ar am out in dis country— ino, sar!’ | Inavery short time emeeenee on their bicycles \Frank Merriwell toward >| John North. the boys were and following the cabin of CHAPTER IN es TRE-EIGH fT THE WINDOW AGAIN, Powers soon overtook Little Blossom; |for the blind girl stumbled and fell upon her face in the trail. As the man caught her up, she uttered a loud scream of despair aid terror. “Shut up!’ he brutally commanded. I am3 ‘going to take you where you will hear all the pretty music you like, and have goed things to eat and wear. ‘That’s all your kind ever cared for anyway.’? “T want te go back to my -eried the child. | ‘Well, you won’t go back to him any ‘more. Shut wp your howling!’ When the child coutinued to scream, he tried. to frighten her imto silence, but i did not succeed, so he roughly covered his. broad hand, which (he held there till she lay limp and white and passive mm lis arms. ‘‘Now perhaps you will keep still!” hes growled. gran’ pal”? Swiftly he climbed over some rocks and made his way from the path to the | vicinity of the regular trail that ran idown into Silver Blufi. Near the trail a horse was hitched. | The horse was saddled and bridled, amg 3 it did not. take Powers long to unhite oe the animal and get into the. saddle, aided ~~ by a bowlder, ca With the limp and apparently lifelemesee S child in his arms, he rode out wpon the Je trail. The blind eyes were closed, antt the wind toyed softly with the yellow ‘curls. *“Good-by Silver Bluff!” erted Doubles @ over FRANK ll never see only regret from Mexico the deal Dan. there again. My can’t meet the man more. Id like to settle him. ’’ Then he turned from the town, and rode rr . c¢ Thev hat I is score the aac of the swiftly away. « * . ° 3ehind a bowlder close beside the trail, more than three miles from Silver Bluff, aman was sitting. Heh snow-white hair and a pale, stern face. “*“T know I am ahead of suge he will not attempt to thiough the town,’’ muttered the He must come way. QOne or both Of us will remain here after we meet.’’ He peered out from behind the der, gazing far along winding trail. geehorseman came *‘He is coming!’ the bowlder, his voi have not waited for hen he saw the of the horseman, and his not OO => this his keen eyes the into view. said the man behi » hard and cold. in ‘varn. *” fa child . face nd in the arms ore Ww harder Mitas as I man. ‘‘I knew he hemaway.’ The horseman came on it. Was near the bowlder. Suddenly the white-haired "his feet and leveled a revolver straig thé heart of the man on the horse, “Hold on, Dan Powers!’’ he manded., The horseman saw him and recognized him. ‘Then, in a moment, the child was swune tound to shield the rider, reached fora ‘‘gun.”’ Like a flash, colder, thoucht, muttered the ineant to try to carry and at a gallop till man tose to oht at com - the man behind the bowl- der changed his aim and fired. With a bullet in its brain, the horse fell,’ and the whiteshaired man rushed Out in time to catch the child in his arms. Powers had been flung to the ground aud stunned. When he recovered, he found the man from Mexico standing him, still with a revolver in his Wand, while the child lay on the ground beside the trail. "We have met coldly. again,’’ said Smith, | where the edve of 1 | | who | trail MERRIWELI LN me down | | hoarsely ounce | there is something with | | Powers ! horse | | man Temo\ ed his hat and the | hz ve had worn. l|come over his fz ad | : lnot—not V him, and I am| back | Man. | 1 +11. bow!1- | land I shall ki was le THE MINES. 2 ie said, you I believe ater about you.’ look my face, Dan Don’t you remember me?’ re f oe we have ‘t agaim,’’ J ‘Wh ? at **Look— vel] = Ne? ‘“Then look again.’ With a sweep of his hand, the strange N ig of fa A change seemed ice, and It can’t ictor Victor brother a , ilse To Powers gasped : You—you are er brother??? 1, of John re - eet 2 ada 1c pool Piri YOu ns! be! ‘* Heave at Ch] North, am and %) sor h ort! th ,) ‘*But—but I shot you! ‘‘And fled, like the coward I know you to be at heart. Look, here is the your bullet struck.’’ He showed a scar above g the hair. “It did not kill me, but it deprived me ” Victor North de- recovel of memory for a time clared. “When knox vw own iy name, lered ¢ ut over the world. t myself. in trying to fi In Mexico Mexico, one came back I came here found you 1 out something I made fortune day, the memory to me like a flash find my fe should saloon, mv poor time. ‘“Then I su mein cold boo d?”? hearsely Powers, his face blue with tear. ‘*It is what you deserve,’’ dec tor North, “‘but you shall I tell you now that I am ll you ain going to give you we'll fight a fair duel. ready. Life wi of us within fiv a ast to d ither, have fini but did ished 1 old Pj to murder whispered IOSE you mean 5 lared Vic- have a chance. a dead shot, I fire, but I a chance at me, for Get up and get 11 be ended for one or both minutes. ”’ a when e © . . - - . A band of horsenien galloped along the lin pursuit of Powers. They were the citizens of Silver Bluff, and Ben Boze ading them. Sle boys were in advance, The bicye and Powers shivered, despite his wonderful | the party was covering ground in a reck- i less manner. nefve. FRANK MERRIWELL IN THE MINES. Suddenly Boze cried: ‘Thar he is!” A horseman was coming toward them, carrying a child in his arms. 3ut that horseman was not Powers. ‘Tt is Smith, the man from Mexico!”’ exclaimed Frank Merriwell, in astonish- ment. ‘*He has Little Blossom.”’ ‘‘Wa-al, may I be derned Boze. They gathered round Smith, asking him a hundred excited questions. ly, one cried: ‘*Where is Powers ?’’ Vou will find him along the trail !”? gasped about half a mile,’’ said Smith, calmly. | ‘You may plant him there, or take him) into town and have a funeral, just as you like. I met him when he was carrying off this child, and we settled it with our|ter ran away with the gambler old Jfohn™’ guns. ”’ Then it was that the rough men ex- pressed their admiration and satisfaction, giving a great cheer that roused Little Blossom, and caused her to murmur: ‘“Hlear them cheering now, gran’pa! How good they are to us!”’ . . . . 3ack to the cabin at the foot of Sha- dow Mountain they carried the little blind girl. On the way they were met by men on foot, armed to the teeth, who had come out to help in the hunt for Powers. Sing Lee, the Chinaman, was one of these, and he chattered his delight when he saw Frank Merriwell and the little girl. Heseemed to think Frank could do anything and had saved Little Blos- som. ‘‘Melican bloy vely smalt!’’ he cried. *“Noblody lun away flom Melican bloy allee samee vely klick. Sing Lee know him do all light to klech blad mlan. Chikal-chi hollygo lally!”’ ‘‘Mah goodness!’’ exclaimed ‘Toots. ‘Tf I couldn’t talk United States bettah dan dat, I’'d keep mah mouf shet sho’!’’ On the way to the cabin, the man from Mexico explained to the astonished citi- Final- | lof John North and the uncle of Little | | Blossom. ithing she needed, while the old- man |should be tenderly cared for as long as he lived. It was a wonderful revelation, for the man brought proof, so there was no rea- son to doubt his words. As they approached the cabin, it was seen that the door was standing wide open. Then they made another discoy- ery. In a window at the front of the cabin ‘burned a lamp. . The men became silent as they drew yet nearer and saw the light of the lamp ‘in the window. Some of them had heard |how for nearly two years after his daugh- |had placed a light in the window every night. | And now, once more, although it was | broad day, the light was in the window. | ‘The old man’s son, still bearing: Little | Blossom, was first to enter the tabin, | Frank and the boys followed him. kneeling. ‘‘He is sleeping,’’ said séme one. Victor North turned from the bed and there. “Ves, he is sleeping,’’ he solemnly said; ‘‘but he will awaken never agaiq in this world. He has placed the light in the window for the last time, and gone to his last long rest.’’ [THE END. | the Mormons; or, The Lost Tribe’ of Israel,’’ by the author of ‘‘Frank Mer- riwell.’’ 'zens of Silver Bluff that he was the son; } money; and the childxsshould have everys ~ ey, ~ He said he had plenty of = They saw the old sad-faced, White- © a % xf ‘haired man lying at full length on the; ‘bed, beside which Little Blossom was — faced those who had accompanied: him 2 The next nufiber (62) of the Tip™ Top WEEKLY will contain as the ‘come 'plete story, ‘‘Frank Merriwell Among Wie, Wr ener. Wo ers. “oom ow 0 IMR TA PPC RE OO TAREE Terms to Tip Top # months 4 qnonths - § inonths - How TO SEN registered letter risk if sent by ordinary letter. REGHIPTS.— eee chinge. of numb« properly credited To CLUB RAI tS, aid you i obtaini: AJ letters should STREET Mon TOP WEE ¥ New York KLY, City. & SMI H’S TIP 2 William St. Pl ll el fel ll Deelah Ded A, NEW T CONTEST Wal Shortly Be Announced. Watch this Column for Details. The success of pt contests h: @re assured of the Novel contests with therefore remain a fea Doys favorite weekly. Calks With Cip Cop Readers. ling the ‘ publi : been (st readers’ interest in them. valuable ture in the flood of Sport’’ contest, the result The ju‘ iges are still at work rea: re- plies received in the *‘Summer Will be several weeks bef Honnead. ‘Whe popuarity of ‘contest is phenomenal aud it shows that the readers of Tip Top Weekly appre- ciate the efforts of the pu ishers to Bray? ide interesting competitions for then etion of cha subject as “Summer Sports,’ The views re- célyed were various, but baseball was in the lead. The result speedily as possible.. can be an- counts While on the subject of contests it will be well State that the details of a new and novel competition now in progress of arrangement. If youhave been a Ti; Pap readerin the past yc 1 have learned that Tip Top Weekly contests are noté d fi r possessing three cardinal pomts—novelty, simplicity and value of prizes. In these three sone e an be read the reason for the great success of Tip Top Weekly competitions. > It is an old opinion th at boys, rule, do not te. writ VS, There is something i he bother of aot ing pen, ink ar iper, and securing : Meter the majority of boys from writing. If such casc, a you will confess there is BOI 16 truth ie Vast number of letters received « in prs SPrani Merriwell’’ series is a gran d and lasting $o@po talented author, Speaking from the standpoint MOL Many years in editorial we must athe it, the i1se oO] the harness, may | adv isable | riage. : step in iife, you ishers | prizes will)» American |” c OVO bone. In | is above the ave | probably and it| ] be given as | erumbs care | x tribute | say that! Correspondents. oided. T You authori roper forbid thoug! viser's, til you too young in a posit ion to support 5 if you are of age, and are always heed ld you may should and many other friends peers ALYWV@L raraagi¢ stories. ere, var cde dt muse are attac hed at one end h bone, at the other t the knee and is fixed the act } violently, and straig ness of which mainly jump. 3. The table t this column. Seea work on at J. H. C., Cape May, N. J. ve feet five inches rage height for a boy of si Lj ¥ that sixteen year’s but it becat PTow does not ne ing fast that Son some reason they not matter to convince then family physician, and he and exe that will bring of age you ar imagination for are book and ten cents. : and strer you a on of pric ve the health preserve you. ask fo! holds itent medic M.S. ¢ holders ai sary 10 e colored 1 173 handling nandiing, | scratches, Wa Bay , : North the tempe shoul ne. ‘and sugal’ ci New teach come ; can ithor. 61S an al hat must a certain iecharical part, how- ion, mak climaxes, ay which you can learn if you have an) ent for writing a story. 2. In Boston, Mass., there is a Sterary bnreay which edits manuscripts of all kinds, and aids writers in finding a market for their productions. Steady Reader, you to becon naturally. ever, such as punctuat evan ai There is TIP TOP WEEKLY, The Emerald Ring. oer ‘‘When I was a cabin hoy on board the ship Cale- ' donia. in the old days,’’ said a sailor not long ago during a stormy passage on an An Old ocean steamer, ‘‘l was such a little chap that they called me | ’ Mouse. On one trip there was a Tar’s Yarn. gentleman aboard, a first-class passenger, who had a young daughter; and this girl wore an emerald ring on_ her left hand, and two others on the right. Every morning | I brought her meal and water to dip her hands in, and | she said it kept ’em white. She used to laugh at my |; rough hands. ‘*One day, after I had been round and attended to all the rooms, the captain called me and said, ‘Mouse, go at. once and give the young lady that ring that you took.’ ‘* ‘What ring, captain?’ ‘* ‘Don’t you act as if you was innocent, you young rascal. This morning you saw the young lady take off her rings as usual, to dip her hands in the water you brought, and when she wasn't looking you took the | emerald.’ | ‘¢ “TJ never did, captain!’ ‘* «Take care! No one but you has:been in the room, | Mouse, and she has been to me and complained of the | theft.’ ‘* ‘Captain, I swear I am innocent! I haven’t taken | anything from anybody !? / ‘« “You won’t confess it, then?’ | ‘* “Tt wasn’t'me! It wasn’tme!’ I cried, bursting | into tears, ‘* ‘Very well,’ said the captain, loudly; ‘go and fetch the carpenter.’ “I knew what that meant. The carpenter was the biggest man we had on board, almost as tali as the miz- | my hands.’ fowl. just as they went. about it. He opened it, and. there in the bird he found the emerald ring. ‘How did it come there? Why, the girl had knockéd her ring, in washing her hands, into a plate of fruit parings that was there. The. fruit: parings had’ gone down the spout to the fowls, and one of them: fowls swallowed it—a chicken’ll swallow anything; and that very fowl was the one that the cook had killed. : ‘*Well, he rushed on deck, as you can believe; and © there, before the whole company, he showed them .the : proof of my innocence, and convinced them that poor Mouse, who lay there senseless, was neither a thief nor a liar. : ‘Well, well,’’ said the sailor, ‘‘and here’s what I’ve got to show for it.’’? He opened his collar, and showed, tied around his neck with a ribbon, a beautifuls dia- | mond ring set with emeralds, ‘*T don’t wear that—it wouldn’t look quite right on He smiled as he showed his hands, horny and rough with the handling of the ropes. ‘‘But I don’t | part with it, neither. After they went ashore; that girl - |and her father, they came back to me with that ring,” and I’ve kept it by me ever since, and always slall,”’ _—-—O-—- The Australian blacks are as fond of throwing the boomerang, to see who is the best man; as some Eng- / lishmen, With more or less brains, are of shying at the plebian cocoanut. Hach man in bomerang contests appears with his. favorite weapon, A line of spears is laid on the ~~ The thrower steps back from ~ Throwing the Boomerang. ground asa boundary. it a few paces, his right hand. He advances, raises his arm, with the elbow < above his head, and the convex edge of the weapon: downwards. grasping his boomerang at one end with © zen inast, he seemed to me, and he used. to wield the ‘cat’ when any one was whipped. He had a grudge against me, aud T knew the pain would be awful. ‘*But I brought the carpenter, just the same. He and the captain, talked a while iu the eaptain’s room, and when the carpenter came out I could tell’ by the smile on his face that he had a job on hand. ‘‘That afternoon the cook told me that I was to be ‘made an example of,’ and given thirty strokes. with the ‘cat,’ on the deck, before the whole ship’s com- pany, early the next. morning, for stealing the young lady’s ring. ‘That night was an awful night for me. If I could With a rapid, circular movement of the’ arm fron” left to right, he sends the boomerang omits course, | with the concave edge in the direction of the: line of flight at the moment of delivery. The weapon fliesswiftly 7 until it reaches its culminating point, seventy oP éighty > = yards\away, and twenty yards aboye the earth, where? it flutters and hangs for an instant in the air. Then it” spins back to the thrower, coin falls within afew yardsg ~ of him. The palm is given to the thrower whose boom-F 7 erang returns and falls the nearest to him, In this manner the boomerang is thrown when its > | object is a flying bird, so that if it misses its mark its i ‘shall return to the thrower. The weapon is thrown have felt sure that I should have been drowned at once differently when used for fighting purposes. instead of being snapped up by the sharks, I should) Then the thrower runs rapidly forward, and. deliver have jumped overboard« Every minute I hoped and | ing it at the level of his hip, makes it strike the grouud prayed that that ring would turn up, and saveme from | on one of its horns ten or twelve yards from hi, The” my terrible flogging, but it was in vain. é | weapon then ricochets, flies straight away for sixty ~ ‘*Next morning, as I lay trembling, the big carpen-| yards, keeping a horizontal line three or four feet from” ter came ang dragged me out on the deck. 1 was half | the ground, and gradually rises until it is spent and™ dead with fear, but I could see all the passengers and | falls to the earth. Scanner genes the crew gathered together in silence. It was dreadful. | The interesting author from whose book wetrse-cene. Pie And there was the young lady who owned the ring’) densod this description of the boomerang contest; leat me pgs) | é et locking cold and pitiless. | describes the nerve of a stalwart warrior who. offered — ‘I was stripped to the waist, and the carpenter tied himself as a target to the boomerang throwers. Grasp-* meup to the mast, and made ready with the ‘cat.’ | ing a shied of light wood, two feet long, a foot wide,” Then the captain stepped up and said: ‘Mouse, once | and four inches thick, he placed himself thirty paces © more [ ask you to confess that you took the ring.’ from the boundary line of spears, and challenged any =~ ‘* ‘Captain,’ I replied, ‘if you was to cut me to pieces, | one to hit him. bene cs I conldn’t confess that and tell the truth.’ His assailants, standing the other’ side of the line, #7 ‘* “Listen, boy,’ he went on, his voice trembling a| threw at him in rapid succession, at one’ at a time, + little, ‘if you’ve thrown it into the sea, or lost it, I’ll| He, watching them*with a keen eye, avoided a hit, now > pay for it, Pll replace it; but you’ve got to tell me—do| by a slight movement of his body, and again by eafch-— you hear?’ ing the boomerang on his shied. Heas not hit onée. ‘‘T burst into tears, and told him again and again | His nerve was marvellous, for a blow from avboomer- that I knew nothing about the ring. Then he turned to | 80g either kills or wounds severely. the people and said, ‘This boy must be a little thief * —_——oO---* and an obstinate liar, too. Whip him, carpenter.’ ‘“‘The carpenter struck me once, and again, anda third time; but after that I never counted, for I fainted dead: away before he had: gone to the tenth stroxe: ‘‘When I came to myself, where do you think I was? Why,. 1 was.in that young lady’s. room, lying on her own bed, and she was taking careof me; and on her fin- ger I saw that very ring—the emerald! “*T couldn’t make if out, but presently I learned how it all. was, The cook, who was tender-hearted and couldn’t bear to see me whipped, had been killing a SURE TO GET WELL. Mamma—‘‘Run for the doctor. Little Dick. is very sick,”? : ae Papa—‘'Don’t worry. He’ll be all right to-morrow. es ‘*Why, how do you know?”’ ‘e% ‘‘Tt?s snowing, and he basn’t had a chance to . new sled since Christmas, ’’ a= SPO j ~ ~ ee 3 = ~ Sports and Pastimes. Putting the Shot. RULES. The shot shall be a metal sphere weighing ‘sixteen | pounds. It shali be put from the shoulder with one hand, and during the attempt it shall not pass behind nor below the shoulder. It shall be put from a circle seven feet in diameter, two feet of whose circumfer- ence shall be a toe-board four inches in height. Foul puts, which shall not be measured, but which shall count as puts, are as follows: 1. Letting go of the shot in an attempt. 2.‘Pouching the ground outside the circle with any ion of the body while the.shot is in hand. 8, Touching the ground forward of the front half of the’circle with any portion of the body before the put is measured. Bach competitor shall be allowed three puts, and the ~~~ best three men in the first trial shall be allowed three se) MOYS—puts. eY Wee best of all his puts, Each contetitor shall be credited with the The measurement of the put shall be from the nearest edge of the first mark made by the shot to the point of the circumference of the circle nearest such mark. RECORDS IN SHOT PUTTING. 12-1b. shot—America—-55 ft. 2 iu., G. R. Gray, Trav- ers Island, N. Y., June 11, 1892. 3] WEEKLY. ( 251¢-lb. shot, with follow—America—36 ft. 814g in., W. Real, Philadelphia, Pa., October 25, 1888. 28-lb. shot—Ireland—34 ft., G. R. Gray, Dunslaugh- lin, July 8, 1883. 28-lb. shot, with follow—Ireland—35 ft. 1 in., Real, Limerick, August 27, 1889. 42-lb. shot—Ireland—27 ft. 4in., J. ick, June 13, 1888, 42-lb. shot, with follow—Ireland—28 ft. 14 in., Real, Limerick, June 18, 1884. ; 56-lb. shot—Ireland—19 ft, 34 Mallow, May 14, 1885. 56-Ib. shot, with follow—Ameria—22 ft. W. Real, New York city, October 20, 1888. 56-lb, weight, with follow—Ireland—23 ft. 9% in., W. Real, Limerick, August 6, 1888. W. C. Daly, Limer- W.. g in., W. J. M. Barry, 111g 7 in., MUSCLES EXERCISED. In putting the shot, the muscles called particularly into action are the front part of the deltoid, which is attached ‘to the top part of the arm, and at the other end to the coliar bone, and brings the arm upward and forward; the top part of the pectoral muscle, which also runs from the top of the arm to the collar bone, and brings the arm forward; the triceps, which are fixed at one end of the shoulder and shoulder blade, and at the other end of the fore-arm, below the elbow, and extend the arm at the elbow joint. The put is also assisted by a simultaneous spring with the legs and a rapid move | of the body. Se oa CLOCK MADE OF BICYCLES. What is probably the oddest clock ever manufactured | has been made by a Frenchman. It should appeal to every wheelman, for it is constructed solely of bicycles and parts thereof. It stands eleven and a half feet | high, and is the queerest combination in appearance at | which any cyclist every gazed. Withal, it keeps cor- rect time, and the man whose duty itis ‘to keep it in order has a very easy time-of it, for so delicately is it constructed that the gain or loss is almost infinitesi- mal. It béars the appearance at first glance of a circlet of bicycle wheels intertwined, in the centre being an immense rim, while within this rim are the figures that denote time and the hands that point the hour and the minute. All rests‘on the pedestal beautifully pan- elled, which adds to the picturesqueness. The circlet of wheels is formed of thirteen of these useful articles, all of which are possessed of pneumatic tires. ‘Chey are not wholly ornamental, for they form a part of the clock frame. The top of the clock is formed of twelye handle bars. Underneath this is the escape wheel, the axis of which is actuated by the uppermost wheel at the left of the combination of handle bars, The escape wheel is com- posed of a transmission or sprocket wheel, the chain points of which form the wheel teeth. Two pedal rods form the arms of what are called the pallets. Hanging just above the base, and in the cen- tre, is anordivary bicycle wheel, which acts as the pen- dulum. The pendulum rod is composed of portions of bicycle frames, which are made of steel pipe. Crank rods are used to form. the figures from one to twelve upon the dial, the circlet of which is a huge pneumatic tire. ‘The minute strokes of the clock are short nickel plated spokes, the nuts of which are screwed on. The hands of the clock consist of steel piping, which forms part of the frame of the bicycle, sprocket wheels and crank rods. The sprocket wheel is at the reverse end of both the minute and hour bands. =e ©14-4b. shot—America—51 ft. 53¢ in., G. R. Gray, { Travors Island, N. ‘Y., June 12, 1892. _ 16-Ib. shot—New Zealand—39 ft. 4 in., D. MeCor- te mack, ——. lreland—46 ft. 51¢ .in., Denis Horgan, iy # * Ballsbridge, August 15, 1894. America—47 ft., G. R. ural ay _ Gray, Chicago, [ll., September 16, 1893. , 18-lb, shot—America—41 ft. 91¢ in., G. R. Gray, The bell upon which the chimes are sounded is an enlarged bicycle bell, beautiful in tone, witb a clear, musical note that charms. The clock strikes both the quarter and the full hours, but the striking train is not visible to ordinary observation. The entire mechanism of the clock runs as smoothly as the most placid river. In so far as regularity of time is concerned, the yaria- tion is less that a sixteenth of a second a month, the only necessity to correct time keeping being that all the parts shall be constantly ana carefully oiled. The name of the inventor and the maker is Alphonse Duhamel. He has kept in the background, and evinces no desire to become famous. He is a Parisian clock- maker. The clock will be placed in one of the public buildings of Paris. ~ Travers Island, N. Y., June 7, 1890. ~ 20-Ib. shot—America—38 ft. 734 in., G@. R. Gray, ~= New York city, January 23, 1892. -, 2i-lb. shot—America—39:ft. 11¢ in. Catherine’s, ) ore i] , G@. R. Gray, St. Ont., August 10, 1891. : England—35° ft. 10 14 tg in., D. J. McKin- me 22, 1884. Neuere as erica—83 ft. 118 in., G. R. Gray, pril 12, 1890. - TTP TOP WERKKLY. Aippl Th ‘ ppiause. I 0 arteries e (Letters from Tre ToP WrErxKLY readers are always acceptable. Views and suggestions will be welcomed.) ——- _ | 416 Large Pages. Fifty Cents Each. Sanbornville, N. H., April 29, 1897. | Dear Sirs: I will write and tell you what 1 think of | 3 tho Tip Top and the Red, White and Blue libraries. 1| Numbers 1, 2 and 3 of the Tip Top think they can’t be beat. I like the Tip Top better than | ees 5 "i a any library I ever read. But like some others of this’ Quarterlies are now ready, each contain- place would like to hear ee anaes old friend Barney. | ing 1n one volume thirteen of the famous urs are ; . 4 Pe We easy Seite | Frank Merriwell stories complete and un- Troy, N. Y., April 80, 1897. | abridged, and thirteen illuminated photo- Dear Sirs: I congratulate you on the suceess of the | ey oyragved illustrations. Tip Top Library, and hope that it will grow to aj} 5 greater extent each week. G. P. Bert. south Norwatk, Conm.. Aprit go, sor, THE FRANK MERRIWELL STORIES Dear Sirs: I am an interested reader of your paper | and like it very well. Often JI wish it was published | : . : twice a week, I have read all the stories from N«. | detail the pranks, trials and bravery of a up, and I often read the baek numbers over agai true-hearted American lad—brave to the wish that they will never stop being published. +8 Z ere Charlie E. Loekwood. |core. ‘They have received universal com- § Marietta, Ohio, May 1, 1807. . ‘endation, and the Tip Top Quarterlies Dear Sirs; We are newsboys and have formed a society | are issued. in response to numerous aia which we call the Newsboys Reading Club. Wetake the - og ieee Tip Top, Red, White and Blue, and many other publi,| quities for a complete series of the M cations, and we like them all yery much. | well stories. Yours truly, Charles Jackson, Pres. | For sale by newsdealers everywhere, or Reddy Moore, | Albert Sniffen, isent by mail, postpaid, on receipt of price Chuck McGerin. |. by the publishers. “ 4A ) 4 la 2 Seattle; Wash., May 2,71897. . STREET & SMI PH, New} Dear Sirs: I thought {[ would write and tell you; how we like the Frank Merriwell stories. We all think | they are fine. We wish them every success. ae FOR EVERYBODY = Chas Stolting, | ant a ae” Nelly Pickerell. . | TEN GENTS FAGH, Newburyport, Mass,, May 6, 1897. Dear Sirs: I want to let you know what I think of | gui of instructive information for all. They are handsormediv § the Tip Top Weekly. It is the best book I hav6 ever | bound in attractive covers, printed on good quality paper, WMns- read. And I have read a good many other libraries, 1] trated, and are marvels of excellence, These books have never The following list of books will be found useful, entertaining; an’ ¥ before been offered at such a low figure. _ The price, 10 cents -eacn ncludes postage. ‘ ny 1 4. * 3 ie C. E. Goodwin, Jr. | ggprUL AND INSTRUCTIVE INFOR + + . > a7 eed fikt Mines Ain Lan ewes a. April 10, 1897. . | Album Writer’s Assistant. Boys’ Own Beek era ear Sirs: e have been reading the ‘‘Tip Top Li- | ghort Hand for Everybody. The Rook of Knowledr? brary’’ for a long time and think they are the best | How to Do Business. Everyday Cook Book, : published. I think the ones at Fardale were the best. | Amateur’s Manual of Photography. ‘The Taxidermist Manu, We wish Bart Hodge would appear again. Wishing the | Mills’ Universal Letter-Writer, Good Housekeeping. yes Tip Top Library a success, we remain, your readers, | : * Frank H. Ebert, GAMES AND SPORTS. Elmer ©. Kafer, : 4 ae , —_— Albert Bradley. The Hunter and Angler. The International Cricket Guide. | The Complete Angler. Amateur a Ereneee: Oarsman’s | ics / i 0% | Riding and Driving. |» Manual, Dear Sirs: I have gaa ee san Ss .., | Poe’s Foot-Ball. E E Complete Training Guide for Amateur sae cara Being Se Ap Sop Aabrary | Campbells Lawn Tennis, Dunn’s Fencing Instructor, from 1 to 58 and I like it very much ; I can’t wait until | The Complete Checker Player. Capt. Webb’s Swimming Monday comes to get it. J wish you would publish it Backgammon and Bagatelle. Instructor. + twice a week instead of once. Pauline Des Landes. Out Door Sports. Aquatic Guide; or, Yachting und The Young Gymnast. Sailing. hope the Tip Top Weekly a success forever. I remain your reader, Elkhart, Ind., April 14, 1897. Gentlemen: My companion and myself have been FORTUNE-TELLING. - reader's of the Frank Merriwell stories from 1 to No.} . * \ i. 51 and we think they are the hest stories we ever read. Napoleon's Book eid Dream Book Copies Sea fi : Frank Merriwell’s at Yale College are the best. We / sail would like to know if Bart Hodge and Barney Mulloy TRICKS. By will turn up again. Sherman Golden, Herrman’s Black Art. Heller’s Hand Book of Magic. Burt Wear. The Way to Do Magic, Herrman’s Tricks with Cards, ES eee Sores Ga., April 20, 1897. RECITATIONS AND READINGS. Fe yp ag itt Pgs i hee ubrae ies; -boeh Tip Top The Peerless Reciter. Select Recitations and Readings. and Red, White and Blue, and are glad to say they are The Young Elocutionist The Standard Reciter : the best stories we have read in a long time. We have - : : Ree read them from the very first. Hoping that they will] These books will be sent prepaid upon receipt of 19cens each: continue, we are, respectfully yours, When ordering, please be particular to send the full tifle of the Robt. M. Tilton book desired,also your full name and address. “The books are 10 ‘ Cc Marion Lerburr cents each, postage free. Address =e ' : oy. MANUAL LIBRARY 25 Rose st., N@w Yorks — Tire Top WEEKLY Illuminated cver—Price, Five Cents—rhirty-two Pages. Complete List of Stories By the author of “Frank Merriwell.” te ee he dal Tales of School, Fun, College, Travel and Adventure. MALPALSI™ All back numbers are constantly on hand, and will be mailed to any address on receipt of price, Five Cents each. 1—Frank Merriwell; or, First Days at Fardale. 2—Frank Merriwell’s Foe; or, ‘‘ Plebe” Life in Barracks. 3—Frank Merriwell’s Medal; or, ‘“‘Plebe” Life in Camp. 4—Frank Merriwell’s Rival; or, By Fair Play or Foul. 5—Frank Merriwell’s Fault; or, False Steps and Foul Snares 6—Frank Merriwell’s Frolics; or, Fun and Rivalry at Fardale. 7—Frank Merriwell’s Mysterious Ring; or, The Man in Black. 8 —Frank Merriwell’s Fag; or, Fighting For the Weak. 9—Frank Merriwell’s Furlough; or, The Mystery of the Old Mansion. 10 -Frank Merriwell on His Mettle; or, Field Day at Fardale. 11 Frank Merriwell’s Fate; or, The Old Sailor’s Legacy. 12—Frank Merriwell’s Motto; or, The Young Life Savers. 13—Frank Merriwell in New York; or, Fighting an Un- known. Foe. 14 —Frank Mrri well in Chicago; or, Meshed by Mysteries, 15—Frank Merriwell in Colorado; or, Trapping tho Train Wreckers. 16—Frank Merriwell in Arizona; or, the Mine. 17—Frank Merriwell in Mexico; or, The Search for the Silver Palace. 18—Frank Merriwell in New Orleans; or, The Queen of Flowers. 19—Frank Merriwell’s Mercy; or, The Phantom of the Everglades. 20—F rank Merriwell’s Friend; or, Muriel the Moonshiner, 21—Frank Merriweil’s Double; or, Fighting for Life and Honor. 22—F rank Merriwell Meshed; or, The Last of the Danites. 23—Frank Merriwell’s Fairy; or, The Hermit of Yellow- stone Park. 24—Frank Merriwell’s Money; or, “Queer ’ Makers. 25—Frank Merriwell’s Mission; or, The Mystic Valley of the Andes. 26—Frank Merriwell’s Mysterious Foe; or, Wild Life on the Pampas. 27—Frank Merriwell a Monarch; or, The King of Phan- tom Island. 28 —Frank Merriwell in Gorilla Land; or, The Search for the Missing Link. 29 ~ Frank Merriwell’s Magic. 30—Frank Merriwell in France; or, The Mystery of the Masked Unknown. 31—Frank Merriwell’s Feat; or, The Queen of the Bull Fighters. $2—Frank Merriwell in London; or, The Grip of Doom. The Mysteries of The Queen of the 33—Frank Merriwell’s Venture; or, Driven from Armenia. 34—Frank Merriwell in India; or, Hunting Human Leopards. 35—Frank Merriwell’s Vow; or, After Big Game in Ceylon. 36—Frank Merriwell in Japan; or, The Sign of the Avenger. 37—Frank Merriwell’s Death Shot; or, Roughing it in Australia, 38—Frank Merriwell in the South Sea; or, The Cast for Life. 39 —Frank Merriwell Home Again; or, The Mystery of Ethel Driscoll. 40—Frank Merriwell at Yale; or Freshman Against Freshman. 41—Frank Merriwell’s Match; Sophmores. 42—Frank Merriwell’s Victory; or, The ¥ 43—Frank Merriwell’s Finish; or, Blue 44_Frank Merriwell’s Game; or, Snarin, 45—Frank Merriwell’s Great Run; or, Tigers. 4§6—Frank Merriwell’s Even Up; or, Squaring the Score. 47 ~Frank Merriwell’s Queen; or, Blow for Blow. 48—Frank Merriwell’s Find; or, The Waif of the Train. 49—Frank Merriwell’s Racer; or, Birds of a Feather, 50—Frank Merriwell’s Nerve; or, Game to the End. 51—Frank Merriwell’s Shadow; or, The Mystericas Stranger. 52—Frank Merriwell’s Dash; or, Yale Against the Field. 53—Frank Merriwell’s Bicycle Boys; or, The Start’ Across the Continent. 54—Frank Merriwell’s Ride for Life; Train Destroyers. 55—Frank Merriwell’s Great Capture; or, Bicycle Agair Horse. 56—Frank Merriwell to the Rescié; 0% Throtg? and Water. 57—Frank Merriwell’s Close Call; or, The Tramp’s T Wo 58—Frank Merriwell’s Unknown Friend; or, Old Friehusl” a 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 Merriwell in the Mines; or, The Blind Singer ot Silver Bluff. iia 62—Frank Merriwell Among the Mormons; or, The Lost ~~ Tribe of Israel. ie 63—Frank Merriwell on the Desert; or, The Mystery of the Skeleton. a 64—Frank Merriwell’s Underground Search; or, Saving the Buried Heiress, or, The Fiing of the ‘Lrounc, 7 or, Foiling tk STREET & SMITH, PUBLISHERS, NBW YORK. DL ASLI™ For Sale by all Newsdealers. Every Saturday.