{Mp ToPWEEKLY-| ed We chy By Subse ription $2.50 per year Entered as Se ui Clauss Matter at the N. Y. Post Office by Breci & SMITH, NEW YORK, November 13, 1807 Price “Five Cents, THERE WAS A HUSH, FOR IT WAS PLAIN MERRIWELL WOULD TRY TO KICK A GOAL. “AN IDEAL PUBLICATION FOR THE AMERICAN YOUTH.” Tie Tore WEEKLY. Issued Wee kly—By Subscription $2.50 per year. St, Ng. Entered as Second Class Matter at the N. Y. Post Office. STREET & SMITH, 238 William Entered Aceording to Act of Congress, in the Year 1897, in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, VV Zashington, By Cs No. 82, NEW YORK, November i3, 1897. Price Five Cents. Contents of This Number. FRANK MERRIWELL AS FULL BACK; of, True to His Colors ANNOUNCEMENT OF NEW CONTEST TALKS WITH TIP TOP READERS IN THE CZAR’S NAME - - APPLAUSE - - - - ~ Frank Merriwell As Full Back: TRUE TO HIS ‘COLORS. CHAPTER I. A CALL DOWN FOR FRANK. Rat-tat-tat ! A knock on the door. ‘*Come in.’? The door opened, and in walked Ben Halliday. Frank Merriwell put down his Greek grammar, aud looked up in sur- prise. *‘Hello, Hally,’’ he called. ‘*Hello, Merriwell,’’ said the other, a trifle stiffly. . ‘“‘What’s the matter, old man? You are not usually in the habit of knocking in that manner. Usually you walk in with- out being invited.’ _ **Perhaps I have been a little too free in that respect,’’ said Ben, significantly. ‘‘Free! Not at all. You know any of my friends are welcome here at any time. This is Liberty Hall.’’ ‘“That sounds all right, Merriwell,’’ said Ben, remaining standing; ‘‘but, if you mean it, why should you say I am too fresh and take too many liberties ?”’ ‘‘f say so? Why, I never said anything of the sort. Has any fellow reported me as saying that?’ “J heard it,”’ Frank came to his feet instantly. **Heard me say so?’ he cried. ‘'Is that what you mean, Hally?’’ ‘“‘No; I mean that I have heard you did say so.”’ Metriwell advanced and placed | his hands on the shoulders of his visitor, looking straight into Ben’s eyes. “*Halliday,’’ ever been anything but a friend to you ?’’ he said, slowly, ‘‘have I Ben moved uneasily, and then an- swered : **T do not know that you have.”’ ‘“‘Did you ever know me to say any- thing behind the back of either friend or foe that I did not dare say to his face ?’’ “SNo. ye ‘‘Did you ever know me to lie?”’ ONTO: ¥2 ‘Then you will believe me, I think, when I tell you I did not say you were too fresh and took too many liberttes. Some chap has, been trying to make you my enemy. I have seen of late that you acted strangely but did not know why. Now I understand it. But I am suprrised that you could believe such a thing of mec? Halliday was confused. ‘«Well,’’ he falteringly said, ‘‘ you see it’s this way: I knew you hated to throw up your grip on the football team and drop out entirely, and somebody said you were jealous of me because I did such good work against the Indians. You know my run in that game was compared with your famous run in the Princet@n game last season. And you have not been just like yourself lately. Sometimes you have not looked at me when we met.’’ ‘Ts that so?’ asked Frank, in surprise. **T didn’t know it. Must be my mind is on my studies too much. And still I made a dead flunk the day after the Car- lisle game. There had been so many reports that the Indians had a new trick that was sure to enable thein to win, and, knowing as I did what bull-dogs they are to play, I was all nerved up with anxiety. Couldn’t seem to keep my mind on my studies for a week before the game, and it grew worse and worse the nearer the time came. After it was over, I found I might as well have taken part in the game, ’’ 7 | “That's just it!’ cried Halliday, FRANK MERRIWELL AS FULL BACK. quickly. ‘‘That’s why I dropped round to see you.”’ ““Kh? What do you mean ?’’ “*Why don’t you team ?”? “*Get back? What are you driving at? you’re doing good work. **T don’t want to crowd you out.” ‘Vou wouldn’t. They need you as full back.”’ : ‘*You played that position in the game with the Indians. ”’ ‘But am not to play it again. quarter back now.”’ Ts that.right?’’ cried Frank, in ‘sur- prise. ‘‘Your position has been changed ? How did that happen ?”’ get back on the I am ‘‘Ouigg is out of it for the season. You know he was hurt in the last game. Doc- tor says he must not play.any more this year. I have been shoved into his place in a hurry.’’ ‘What's that fot ?”’ ‘‘Rorrest did it. A new man is going to be tried at full ,bhack—Rob Marline. Forrest is desperate. He says the team is broken all to pieces, and stands a poor show with either Harvard or Princeton. This will be a dismal season for Old Yale,’ Frank turned pale and seemed to stag-. ger a bit, asif he had beenstruck. It was a shock for him to know that Yale was in danger. He had supposed she was all right and everything was running well. ‘‘We did not make the showing against. the Indians that we should have made, although we beat them,’’ Halliday went on. ‘‘But for my lucky run, we might have been beaten.’’ **T didn’t know——’”’ began Frank, falteringly. Ben made a fierce. gesture. ‘“What’s the matter with you, Merri- well ?’’ he savagely cried. ‘‘Didn’t know! You should know! You are the fellow of us all who should know. You changed, and it has not been for the bet- have eH a Z nage netilint sans AC US . at eeneey 2 een oie Oe ea eepeleteg 5 ~~ a [ham pedo FRANK MERRIWELL AS FULL BACK. 3 ter. I tell you we stand a slim show with Harvard and Princeton, and you are needed. That being the case, you have no right to shut yourself. up here in your room and plug away, seeming ‘to take no jterest in anything but your studies and recitations. You have been the most pop- ular man in college, but your popularity is on the wane. I’Jl tell you why, if you want to know. Frank was. still whiter, if possible Was this Halliday talking to him in such a manner—Halliday, who had ever seemed to stand in awe of him? It was plain enough that Ben was giving him a 4 ‘call down,” bee what shook Merry the most was the fact that he began to feel that it was merited. “T should like to know,’’ he said, slowly. ~ Ben could not tell what effect his words might have on Frank, but he was reck- less, and he did not care. “You can — my head, if you want to,’’ he said, ‘‘but I am yoing to talk plain. Don’t seem to be anybody else who dares to talk to you. They kick and grow! and say things behind your back, but they don’t come right at what they want to say. that you are afraid to play on the eleven this year.”” Frank stiffened up. ‘‘ Afraid ?’’ he said, hoarsely. CRS ‘*How can they say that? Have I ever shown fear??? ‘“'They do say it,’’ came doggedly from Halliday. ‘‘They say you made a lucky run in the Princeton game last year, and you know it was a case of dead cold luck. It gave you a great_rep., and you are afraid of taking a_ fall down if you play this season. That’s exactly what they are saying, and,’’ added Ben, for himself, ‘‘I]] be hanged if it doesn’t look that way from the road!”’ you with They are saying CHAPTER II. MERRIWELL AROUSED. lerriwell bit his lip and stood staring at Halliday. He showed no anger, but it was plain that he was astonished. Up to that. moment he had not realized he stood in a postion where he could not withdraw from foothall, baseball, or any- thing else in that line of his own desire + without being regarded as cowardly. Now he saw it plainly enough. Halliday had been doubtful as to the manner in which Frank would take his plain tatk, but he was determined to tell Merry what was being said, and he would not have hesitated had he felt certain it would produce a fight. ‘But Frank saw Ben was speaking the truth, and, instead of being angry, he ex- perienced a sensation of gratitude. Still he was determined to cee all about it. ‘‘How long have they been making this kind of talk, old fellow?’ he asked. ‘‘Ryver since it was known for sure that you had decided not to try for the eleven this fall.” ‘(And this is the first I have heard of iY ‘They didn’t talk so much at first,’’ explained Ben. ‘“‘It wasn’t known then but your place could be filled easily.”’ ‘(You were put in my place.’’ ‘‘Ves,"but I should have,been placed elsewhere if you had come on.”’ “And they think that wotld have strengthened the team ?”’ . “Of course it would! I tell you the fel- lows have a reason to growl when they see Vale putting out a weak eleven while the best man in college refuses to get into gear and give a lift.”’ ‘What sort of a man is this Marline?” ‘‘A4 good runner and a pretty punter,”’ “Sand ?”? *“Guess so.”’ ‘“Then what’s his weak point ?’' ‘s Temper. *? ‘*Quick tempered ?”’ ‘Like a flash of powder. Loses his head. Forrest says he may lose any of the big games for us by getting mad ata critical point, but still he is the best man we have.”’ Frank walked over to his window and Jooked out, his back toward Halliday. Ben stood watching him with no small anxiety. Now it was over, and he had relieved his feelings by speaking out plainly, Ben wondered at his own boldness. He had been flushed with excitetnent, but he felt himself growing pale and cold. *‘Yord, what a crust!’’ he thought. Three minutes passed this way, and then Frank whirled atound with starthng suddenness. “Do you practice to-night ?’’ he asked. OY e4,."" ‘‘T’]] come out to the park.”? ‘What for??? ‘‘Ton’t know yet. Jl look on, any- way.’? ‘«Shall I tell Forrest ?”’ ‘‘No, you needn’t say anything about if} | ‘All right.’?’ Halliday was well pleased with the re- sult, for he felt sure Merry was aroused. ‘‘How do I know I am wanted on the eleven??? Frank asked. ‘‘It’s all made up now, and——”’ ‘Heard Forrest say he’d rather have you for full back than Marline.’? “‘Well, I’11 come out and see you prac- tice,’ So Ben left. At one time he had been envious of Merriwell, but now, like others, he realized that Merry was too good timber to be lost from the eleven. Halliday overcame his selfishness, and, FRANK MERRIWELL AS FULL BACK, for the interest of Old Yale, desired to see Merry back on the team. Besides that, Ben was not pleased to be changed from full back to quarter back and have a fellow like Marline given the position he had played very well thus far that season. He felt that he had much rather be put off the eleven entirely te give room for Frank Merriwell. After Ben left, Frank attempted to.re- turn to his studies, but he could not fix his mind upon them. He went down to recitation in a dazed condition, and made a flunk, much to the surprise of those who knew he had turned into a ‘‘greasy grind’? of late. Frank’s mind was uneasy, and it wan- dered constantly. The knowledge that he had been regarded as cowardly in declin- ing to go on the eleven was gall and worin wood to him. He was glad Halliday had come to’ him and let him know how matters stood, and surely no one could have closer at heart the welfare of Yale in all directions. He began to understand that he had won a position in athletics from which. ‘he could not voluntarily withdraw with- out being misunderstood and maligned, That afternoon Halliday came around for Frank, and found him with his sweat- er and rough: clothes on, ready to leave his room. **T was afraid you would forget,’’ said Ben, in a confused way. . “Tittle danger of that!’ muttered Frank. ‘‘I haven’t been able to remem- ber anything else but what you said to me this forenoon.”’ ‘Hope you didn’t lay it up against me, Merry.’’ ‘(Don’t take me for a fool, old fellow!”’ came rather sharply from Frank. ; | They left the college grounds and took a trolley car out to the park. Forrest and the team were there ahead of them. A hundred spectators were watching the men catch punts. \ ae ete ™ ekon , al 5 Le Tas . : . * => Bah!’ cried Yates. “If you haven't ~ the courage to face Marline, you’ll never stand up.to me. I have discovered that you are a big stiff! You’re a case of blah Merriwell quivered, and his hands were clinched till his finger-nails cut into the — | a 18 FRANK MERRIWELL AS FULL BACK. palms of his hands. It was-plain that he was making a battle to restrain himself. ‘“Mr. Yates,’’ he said, hoarsely, ‘‘vou and I have had our troubles before, and, if Iremember correctly, you did not come off with flying colors. It is plain you de- light in this opportunity for retaliation, but I warn you to take care. ‘There isa limit, and you may overstep it. If you Oley pees tia ‘“*What then?’ ‘*Vou’ll find you have made a big mis- take.”’ ‘““Baoh 1?) Duncan Yates was withering in his scorn. With a contemptuous oe he turned toward the door. It seemed that Merriwel]l was on the point of leaping after him, but Frank still managed to hold himself in restraint. Puss Parker seemed grieved. ‘It’s too bad!’’ he said, shaking his head. ‘‘I wouldn’t have believed it. You are done for here, Merriwell.”’ ‘“That’s right,’ nodded Forest. can never recover after this. It’s the greatest mistake of your life, man.’’ ‘“Come!’’? cried Yates from the door, which he was holding open. ‘*You are foolish to waste further breath on him.’ Thenall three went out, not one of them saying good-by. - When they were gone Frank felt like tearing up and down the room and slam- ming things about, but he did nothing of the sort. He believed in controlling his emotions, and so he stood quite still till the first fierce anger had left him. Then came regret and doubt. He was sorry he had shown himself on the*foot- ball field, and he regretted that he had given Inza his promise not to play the: game. \ But it was too late for regret. He could not quell his doubts. He was not certain he had done right, and that was enough te make him wretched. That night Frank Merriwell was the most miserable fellowin Yale. not seem any fault of his that had brought him into such a wretched predicament, and yet he was thoroughly disgusted with himself. He could not study, he could do noth- - ing but think, think. Sometimes he was determined to go to Inza and ask her to ° “Vou It did © release him from his promise, and then he would think how his enemies would say he had been driven into it. Then came another thought. If he were to come out now and offer to filla place on the eleven, would he be ac- cepted? He had fallen so in the esteem of Forrest that it was quite likely the captain would refuse ‘to take him on the team. He tried to devise some way of setting himself aright, but could think of none. Had anyone told him two dafs before that he could be so utterly miserable, he would have laughed at them. Only a short time before this turn in events he had been the best known and most popular student in the colleges His fame had spread all over New Haven and gone abroad to other college places. He was regarded with awe asa great trav eller anda wonderful athlete. Now—well, it was different now! Finding he could not rest study or — think of anything but his wretched posi- tion, Frank went out for a walk. He tried to tire himself out physically, so that weariness of body would force his mind to rest., Miles he tramped, far out into the country. He drove along like one walk- ing ona wager, paying no attention to the frosty air which nipped his nose and ears. It was eleven o’clock when Frank was passing Morey’s on his way to South Middle. In front of the place he-paused. He remembered the many jolly times he had enjoyed in there. He remembered a“ a ea we en * Be ae eS z Se ehee des when he was the chief one of any little — circle that might gather in that famous . resort. outsider. Three students came out. not see him, and they were chatting and laughing merrily, He watched them as Now he felt like an outcast—an they strolled away, his heart growing heavier and heavier. ‘Anderson, Cobb and Nast, ” he mut- tered. Theyre. seem to have any troubles. and sport too much to stand high in their classes, but they will get through college and everyone will call them | Isn’t that better than all right, first-class fellows. to be valedictorian anda hermit? I was getting along all right, although I was not showing up brilliantly in Greek. They did- always jolly--never They drink — Pa; é A e f t } j Lt > 4 bs | 1 I ] , C oi ae; SA 2 7 revolted against such a reception. first time in his life he fancied he under- stood what it was to be regarded with uni- FRANK scrubbed through and held my position on the football team if I had tried. It’s plain I made a big mistake.”’ It seemed plainer and plainer the more he thought about it, but he could see no way of turning back now and taking the path he had abandoned. He had burned his bridges, and he must go forward. A great curiosity seized him. He knew well enough a party of students would be gathered in Morey’s little back room, and he longed to know how he would be re- ceived among them. ‘*Y’m going in there,’’ he ‘SHaven’t been round for a Here I go!”? In he went. He was known the mo- ment he appeared. Straight. for the famous back room he made his way, and he was immediately admitted, his face being his passport. He was right in thinking a party was gathered there. At least a dozen fellows were sitting about drinking ale. They were not laughing or talking loudly, but as Frank entered the room, he distinctly heard his name spoken by one of them. muttered. long time. CHAPTER x, ‘Snik MARBLE ‘Hello, fellows!’ tempting to be cheerful. drop in. There wasa sudden siience. All ccpnic! to look at him. ‘Fwo of them sat with their half-lifted glasses suspended. Then somebody muttered: ‘*Speak of the devil——”” Frank was embarrassed. There had been a time when his appearance at Morey’s was greeted with a shout of wel- come. ‘The silence was freezing. Marline was not there. Frank felt re- ‘HEART. ”? called Merriwell, at- ‘Thought I'd lieved when he discovered this, and still, for the first time im his life it seemed that there was a cowardly sensation in his heart. He knew he was not a coward, but the position in which he stood at that mo- ment made him feel like one. The silence was maddening. For the versal contempt. MERRIWELL AS FULL . moment. His soul > BACK. 19 And the injustice of it was what cut him to the heart. A little more and the limit would be reached. He would go forth ready to fight, and he knew that his first blow would be aimed at Rob Marline. Thoughts like these flashed through his head in a moment, then he advanced into the room with his oldtime grace. ‘SA jolly party you have here,’’ hesa a “Ym glad to see you making aber Drink up—drink up, everybody, and have a round with me.’’ Charlie Creighton was there, and Frank was sure he had a staunch friendin Char- lie. The fellows fell to speaking together in low tones, casting sidelong glances to- ward Frank. None of them seemed eager or ready to accept his invitation. “They seemed to draw a barrier about him, as if they intended to shut him ont. Frank felt it—saw it plainly. He was quick to understand the situation, but he was not satisfied. 4%They shall be put tothe test,’’ he Mentally vowed. ‘“‘I’H find out who are my friends and who are my enemies. ’ Then, one by one, he asked them what they would have to drink. Some had ex- Cuses, some flatly declined to take any- thing at all. Some showed their partly emptied glasses, and some said they had quite enough. Frank’s face grew hard and cold as he progressed and met with nothing but re- fusals. He wascoming to Putnam, Stubbs and Creighton. Surely they would not refuse to vdrink with him ! Putnam saw he was to be asked in a He hastily dashed off half a glass of ale and got up, remarking that he must be going. ‘ ‘“Hold on a moment, old man,’ said Frank. ‘‘Iam going to have a lemon- seltzer. Have a drink with me.’’ ‘“Rxecuse me,’’ mumbled ‘‘Old Put.” ‘t] don’t care for anything more.’’ “But you will have one drink with me?’ urged Frank. “Ni.” Putnam a said shortly, ‘‘I’ve had enough.’ Then he sauntered toward the door. Merriwell bit his lips and turned on Stubbs. 20 FRANK said, huskily. “No, thanks,”’ **7’m going, too.’’ He followed Putnam. Creighton was Merriwell’s last resort. He had been a guest at Charlie’s home in Philadelphia. “Come, Creighton, surely you will not decline to take something with me, old fellow ??” Charlie hesitated, flushed to the roots of his hair, looked at Frank and at the others, then got up quickly, saying: ‘Vou’ll have to excuse me too, Merri- well.”’ With that he bolted out of the room, and all the others followed, leaving Frank there alone. For-some moments the stunned and astonished lad stood as if turned to stone, staring with distended eyes toward the door by which they had passed out. His hands were clinched, his nostrils dilated, his head thrown back and his attitude that of a warrior wounded to the heart, but still unconquered in spirit. He was aroused by a touch on thearm, and the smooth, almost sneering voice of a waiter asked: ‘What will you drink, sir?” Frank lifted one hand to his head and seemed to awaken from adream. He looked at the waiter doubtfully, as if-he did not understand the question that was put to him, then, after a bit, said: ‘“Thank you, I never drink. 7 The corners of the waiter’s mouth curled upward in the faintest smile—a smile in which pity and. scorn seemed to mingle. Frank Merriwell’s heart, and, with his eyes blazing, he half-lifted his fist as if he would strike the man in the face. Then he as quickly dropped his hand at his side shivering as if he had been touched by a sudden chill. The waiter had shrunk away with Mer- riwell’s menacing movement, but when he saw there was no danger, he softly said: “I beg your pardon—I thought you were going to drink, as you asked the others to have something with you.”’ How the words cut and stung! as if the man had struck him across the said the little fellow. MERRIWELL AS FULL BACK. “Youll have something, Bink?” he pered—‘and they refused! That aroused all the fury in. It was face with a whip. He fell back, half-lift- ing his hand, and his chin quivered. ‘TY did ask them!’ he hoarsely Not one of them but would have considered it a high honor to have me ask them a month ago! And I have come to this!”’ His words were incoherent, but his face told the story of his wounded pride. He remembered how many times he had been welcomed with a shout im that little room where the famous tables hung upon the wall. He remembered how his admir- ers had gathered about him, eager to listen to every word he might spe: ak, and roar with laughter at his stories and jests. He remembered the songs, the speeches, all the jolly times in that room. Little had he dreamed the time-would come when they very ones he had count- ed as his warm friends would refuse to drink with him there and turn their backs on him in disdain. Nothing could have hurt him more than that. His "pride was cut to the core, and his spirit was shaken as it had never been before. His first thought was that he would find a way to get even with them all. Then he realized how great a task that would be. Hesaw himself scorned and ostracised by the whole college, and, for a fleeting moment, he thought of leaving New. Haven forever that very night. His brain began to whirl. The waiter was standing there, manner that seemed rather insolent. ‘(What do you want?’’ he snapped. “T beg .your pardon,’’ returned the waiter; ‘‘what.do you want?”’ ‘Whisky !’? cried Frank Merriwell— ‘bring ime whisky, waiter, and bring it quick! ie CHAPTER. XI; ““FOR THE HONOR OF OLD YALE.”? The order was filled, the whisky was’ brought. It was placed on the table at which Frank sat. He stared at it in sur- rise. tease “What’s that ?’’ he asked. “Why, sir, dered,’” auswered the waiter. “Whisky ?”? said Merriwell way. whis-. looking at him in a’ l, ina eet ‘*Did I order that ?”’ es Se om it’s the whisky you one eg D mds. ar “Yes, sir.”? He paid for it. 3 Later, when a gay party dropped in, he was sitting.at that table, with the un- ) tasted whisky before him. He sat there staring and scowling at the table, but > paid no attention to any one. The expres- ' sion on his face made him look like any- > thing but his old jolly self. : No one spoke to him. Newcomers drank, joked, laughed and went out. Still he sat there, scowling and staring at the table. . The report spread that Merriwell had ) been cut by his old friends. Curious ones _ strolled in and ordered a drink just to get a look at him. He seemed quite unaware _ of this. : Never in his life had Frank Merriwell _ tasted whisky, but for one moment he had weakened and thouglit of easing the }__ blow to his pride by resorting to the stuff. E Merriwell was human, but still that ' weakness lasted no more than a moment. Then he came to himself, and he was ashamed to think that he had contem- _ plated such-a course. It seemed cowardly. ‘They say I am a_coward,’’ he - thought; ‘*but Iam not acoward enough * for that.”’ ) _ For more than an _ hour he sat there at ) the table. Finally he seemed to come out _ Of the stupor that had seized upon him. a ‘*Waiter,’’ he called. phe Me His voice was calin and natural, the cow! had vanished from his face, and he _was himself once more. ae “Waiter, you may remove this whisky, and bring me a‘lemon-seltzer. I don’t are for fliis stuff.’? When this order was filled, he calmly Peak the lemon-seltzer, paid for it, rose to his feet, pulled on his gloves, and left Orey’s with an air of combined nonchal- “ence and dignity. st a. He was his own master once more. He | had been insulted by fellows he formerly ) believed friends, but he was still Frank -Metriwell. He felt within himself that he ‘Was a man and the equal of the best of hem. Some day they should be ashamed en they remembered their act. He felt Confident that day would come. hat night he-slept as peacefully as a ee FRANK MERRIWELL AS FULL BACK, d, and arose in the morning refreshed | 21 and undisturbed. He would not permit his mind to dwell on what had happened, but resolutely set himself at his studies. Those who had thought Merriwell, having once been so popular, would be crushed soon found out their mistake. He was calm, quiet, and dignified. He did not seek the society of his fellows; but seemed the Same old. Merriwell to those who came to him. He was perfect in his recitations. He attended the gym., as usual, taking his daily exercise. He paid not the least attention to sneering words and scornful looks. : Frank’s bitterest enemies were dissatis- fied. They had fancied he would be ut- terly broken by his downfall, and they could not understand his dignity and dis- regard for public opinion. Those who had reluctantly turned against him were impressed by his strength of spirit and dignity. He carried about him an air of manliness that won their admiration, despite themselves. But everyone had not turned against him. Bruce Browning was staunch and true, although he fiercely berated Merri- well for his course. Harry Rattleton tried to remain un- changed, and never a word of reproach did he utter, no matter what he thought. Jack Diamond did not say anything but it was because he could not trust himself to speak. In his heart he felt like punching Frank and whipping his ene- mies and traducers; but he knew enough to let Merry alone. Halliday held aloof. He was thorough- ly disgusted with Merriwell. At first he said as much, and then he became silent and would say nothing at all. So the days went by. Frank called on Inza, but did not mention what had hap- pened. He had thought of telling her everything, and then he decided that it would do no good, and he would tell her nothing. It was too late for him to change his course, and it could do no good to talk it over. He preferred not to think about it The football team continued to practice and get ready for the great game at Cambridge. It was said that Harvard had the strongest eleven put on the field by her in five years. Her games with the lighter teams had shown she was ‘out for “ ee ere one ome ibs ce RE eter ‘blood.’’ There was doubt and uncertainty in the Yale ca.up. - Ott, Marline’s substitute, was not satis- factory. Those who understood the situa- tion best said that an. injury to Marline early in the game would ruin Yale’s pros- pects. The anxiety increased as the day of the game approached. Some claimed the eleven had not been properly trained, _others asserted they had been overtrained. From Frank Merriwell’s manner one could not have suspected he had ever taken the slightest interest in football. He did not seem to know anything of the general gossip. “ It was the night before the game. Merry had been studying. He was alone in hisroom. At last, feeling exhausted, he flung open the window and looked ont. It was a perfect night, cold, clear and light. The sky was filled with stars. From across the campus came the sound of a rollicking song. Directly beneath Frank’s window was a group of students who were excitedly discussing something. ‘Their words at- tracted Merriwell’s attention. ‘*It’s settled,’’ said the voice of Paul Pierson. for a minute. What can a team do with- out a first class full back.”’ : ‘‘Isn’t there a chance that Marline’s ankle will be all right in time for the game ?’’ asked another of the group. ‘‘Not a chance,’’ positively asserted Pierson. ‘*The doctor says he’ll not step on it for thtee days, at least. It is a bad sprain.’ **Such beastly luck!’” growled Bandy Robinson. ‘‘Now if Merriwell——”’ “Don’t speak of that fellow ! a claimed two or three. ‘*He is the only hope for Yale,’’ de- clared Pierson. ‘‘Ott isn’t in it for a minute. FrankNMerriwell must be ap- pealed to for the honor of old Yale.’’ ‘*Who’ll appeal to him ?’’ ‘‘T will, if they’ll give me authority. I know he will play when he under- stands the situation.’ Metriwell drew in his head and closed the window, His face was pale. Up and down the floor he walked. - “For the honor of old Yale!’’ he mut- , tered, 22 FRANK MERRIWELL AS FULL BACK. ‘*Vale will not be in the game | ex-' Then he suddenly cried: ‘‘Ror the honor ot old Yale I will do anything !”’ Then came a knock on his door. CHAPTER XII. A SENSATION ON THE FIELD. The day of the great football game be- tween Harvard and Yale had arrived. The hour approached. Jarvis Field was ready for the great struggle. ‘The white marks of the grid- iron were regularly and beautifully made. The sun shone down from a clear sky. There was no breeze, but the air: was crisp, for all of the sunshine. At either side the stands were filled; hundreds upon’ hundreds were standing; hundreds upon hundreds were coming. A better day for the game could not have been ordered, and spectators were turn- ing out in force. Harvard students were there ina body. They flaunted the crimson and sung their songs of glee. Their faces were radiant, and they were confident of victory. Yale had sent her representatives by hundreds. They wore the blue, they waved the blue, they cheered for the blue. Everywhere the blue and the crimson could be seen. Everybody was partisan ; everybody had a favorite. Back of the dark beings, beyond the limit of the field, were the trees and the great buildings with their many windows, upon which the sunshine glinted coldly. Policemen mass of spectators, or those in the rear wottld have pressed those in advance for- ward upon the field. A few of those in the rear had obtained boxes or stools, upon which they were standing in order to look over the heads © of those. before them. A wagon was cov- ered with spectators, they were poe. z on the spokes of the wheels. The excitement and the eager anticipa- ae It betray ed itself — tion was most intense. on every face. Not far from the point where the mass of Yale blue was thickest two lads were talking. other wore the crimson. mass of human kept back the standing | One wore the blue, the 4 The first was | : d i and the other was Rolf forced to leave Sport -Harris, Harlow, who had been Harvard after being exposed as a crooked - gambler. “Every dollar is up,” said Harlow, gleefully. ‘‘We are in to wina good- pile on this game if what you say is right.’? ‘‘What I have told you is straight.”’ ‘*Marline can’t play ?”’ '*No,”? “‘Ott is a poor man ?”? Sere. ‘fAnd there is no chance that Frank Merriwell will be run in ?”? “Bah? exclaimed Harris, disdainfully. } ‘*Merriwell is a dead duck at Yale. He’ll _ never count in anything more. He is an outcast now. What do you think ?—he’s universally rated as a coward.’’ **Oh, say!’’ exclaimed Harlow; ‘‘that’s _toomuch! Youdon’t expect me to be- - jieve that about Frank Merriwell?’’ ‘* Believe it or not, it’s true.”’ “T don’t understand how it could come _ about, for you and I know there is nota drop of cowardly blood in Merriwell. Confound him! 1f there had been, some } things that have happened would not | have taken place.” ; ‘‘Circumstances have conspired to put |} He has a few enemies who will take care . to keep him down, now he is down.” ‘*Well, km glad she’s not on the team. We’il make a fat thing out of this, old man.’’ “Yes, J gave you every dollar I could raise, so you must know I am dead sure Harvard will win. If, by any fluke, Yale should happen to. pull off this game, I shall be busted.”’ _ ‘Same here.’’ “Tn that case, we’d have to stand in together and catch some suckers. We've done it before.”’ “And been exposed in it by that cursed ferriwell! Oh, I’d like to get a good rap t that fellow! He has spoiled a number f good soft things for me since we first neta? aa “Vou can’t hate him more than I do.’ ads “JT don’t know about that; but he has the en a lucky devil. I’m. glad he’s not oing to play for Yale to-day.”’ “He couldn’t win = game alone.”’ _ FRANK MERRIWELL AS FULL BACK. _ him where he is, and he’ll never dig out. 23 ‘“No, but it would be Yale’s luck to win if Merriwell played. He has been a mascot for Yale in almost everything.”’ Harris believed this, for he remembered how many times Frank Merriwell had been the instrument by which Yale had snatched victory from apparent certain defeat. Suddenly a band struck up, and out upon the field came the Harvard eleven on the trot. What a cheer went up—what a wild roar of greeting! For the moment it seemed that the crimson was everywhere. The band ham- meted away, and the blood was leaping in the veins of the thousands of specta- tors. Harvard immediately took a bit of pre- liminary practice. ‘“They are the boys to polish Yale off this year!’’ laughed Harlow. ‘‘It’s going to be a snap for Harvard.”’ ‘tT believe it,’? grinned Harris. ‘‘We’ll have money to burn after this game.”’ Suddenly another kind of a cheer rent the air, and now the blue was waving everywhere. Onto the field came the Yale eleven at a sharp trot. Harris and MHarlowe laughed and nudged each other with their elbows. ‘See the little lambs!’’ chuckled the sport. “Coming. to the slaughter!’ grinned Rolf. ‘Too bad!’ ‘“Tt’s a shame!”? ‘fT feel for them.’? ‘“‘T expect to feel for that money. Where’s Ott?”’ ‘“Why, he’s right over—over there— Where the dickens is Ott?” » ‘‘Can’t you see him ?”’ ‘‘Can’t seem to, but he must be.there. Yes, yes, there he is with the group out to the right.’’ ‘Those are the substitutes. with them ?”’ Harris stared, quite as much puzzled as Harlow, for he had understood that Ott, was to be put in as full back for Yale at the very start. ‘It must be—it can’t be—it can’t be Marline js going to try it!’’ ‘“You said he couldn’t step on his foot.’? ‘“He can’t.”? Why is he @ ing drawn Frank aside. group of substitutes. 24 | FRANK MERRIWELL AS FULL BACK. ‘(Then he isn’t in it.’? ‘‘Of course not.’’ ’ **Who is?” ‘Vou tell!’’ Then, all at once, Harlowe caught ‘Harris by the shoulder, and, pointing to- ward the field, almost screamed in his ear: chen thousand furies! Look there— look there, you blunderer! See him—see that tall, straight fellow ?”’ ‘¢ Where ?—who?’?’ ‘Where? Who? Right. there, with the Yale Captain—with Forrest! By all the living fiends, it is——’’ ‘‘Rrank Merriwell!’’ gasped Harris. ‘Ves, and he is going to play full back for Yale! You have imade a blundering ass of yourself. He’ll hoodoo Harvard! Yale will win this gaine!”’ CHAPTER XII. STOPPING A TOUCHDOWN. Frank Merriwell was there. His ap- pearance was a surprise to nearly all the Yale crowd; it created a sensation. ‘‘Merriwell has been.taken in to fill Marline’s place!’ was the excited state- ment that went round. “*Tt’s a foolish move,’’ declared scores. ‘‘He has not been practicing with the team. He’s not in condition.”’ They did not know Frank Merriwell thoroughly, for he kept himself in condi- tion constantly. At first his appearance seemed to create doubt and uncertainty among the specta- tors who were interested in Yale. Grad- ually, however, enthusiasm grew. It was remembered how he had carried the ball right through Princeton’s center in the game the year before, making the most remarkable run ever known on a football field. Yale had felt her chance was a desperate one; surely it could not be any worse. Perhaps it might be bettered by the placing of Merriwell at full back. It was a desperate resort, but who could say the result would not justify the move. Forrest was. talking to Merriwell, hav- They were in earnest conversation. ie A little negro boy came on, the field. How he escaped the vigilance of the off- cers was a mystery, but he reached the “vantage, for the rule gives the ball to the looked like another kick by Mertiwell, fe 4 ‘‘Heah!’? he called, flourishing some- thing in his hand; ‘‘heah am suffin’ fo’ Mistah Merriwell. Where am he?” It was a folded scrap of paper. One of id the substitutes took it and told the boy to “‘chase himself. ’’ ‘T's done got mah pay fo’ bringin’ it,’? he chuckled, as he scudded off. The note reached Merriwell when he had finished talking with Forrest. He | took it in surprise,and then opened it | hastily. A gasp came from his lips when | he saw the writing. ‘‘Rrom Inza!’’ he whispered. This is what he read: : ) ‘Dear Frank—Did not receive your letter till this morning. ‘Too late then to answer. Had left New Haven for Boston Bi before I read it. You asked me to release i you from your promise not to play foot- 3 . ball. No, I will not! You must not play! | If you do, I'll never speak to you again! ee I know Yale will win if you play!’ You a I must not play! Hastily, ee Inza.’? i “Tine up!”’ = The game was about to begin! ® 11 Frank tore the note into may pieces, — w and those pieces he tosses aside. His face yy was stern and determined. = 4H ‘‘It’s for old Yale—dear old Yale!’ he | 4; muttered. ‘‘She has no right toaskso 7 much of me without giving me a reason 7 Jt for it. I must play~I will play!” : th Out to positions went the two teams. Pe They lined up for business, anda great # 4, hush came over the mighty jam of spec- “ae: tators. — ao Yale had the first kick-off, and Merri-- } 4p. well balanced himself for it. _ Pung!—away sailed the ball clean — through Harvard’s goal posts, causing — Efe] the uninitiated to tremble, as it was an — E hel exquisite exhibition of kicking. \ 5d Mr But this kick really gave Yale no ad- 4 opponents on such a play. . Harvard’s full back sent it spinning back into the centre of the field. It © but, instead of that, Yale tried Mills, the — right half, who could make only “two yards against Harvard’s heavy forwards. | The game was on in all its fury, and — the excitement was sameuaes Kick Pee 2 kick in quick succession, but that style of play did not seem to gain anything worth gaining for either side. aw Yale got the ball and tried the revolv- - ing wedge on Harvard. They could not make a big gain, for the Cambridge lads were like a stone wall. Again and again was this style of play tried, till Harvard got the ball on downs. Then came Harvard’s turn to see what she could do, and the first attempt was a try at the.tandem play, made famous by Pennsylvania. Yale seemed ready enough for that, and the way she cut through and broke _ Harvard’s iine showed immediately that the tandem was not likely to prove very ‘ effective. ; | ? : Then Harvard called on Benjamin, her : | right half, and a moment later the rush “ ¥ line did a fine piece of work, opening 4 Yale’s centre and letting the little fellow 4 through. = Benjamin had the speed of the wind. “ He also had the ball. Away he went 4 ' with it, and there was a clear field before e him. _.. Harvard admirers roared from all over ®. the field.. The crimson flaunted every- s; @& where. ce # It looked like a sure touchdown for - Harvard. Every Yale spectator held his he : _ breath in racking suspense. so § Benjamin was flying over the ground. on .% It seeined that his feet scarcely touched i the turf. 1S. 9 Where is Yale now? What chance sat “7 has she to stop the little fellow with -C- ¥ wings on his feet? . § ‘Three seconds of suspense seemed like M1-—@ three hours of torture. It was awful! _ . A Yale man was after little Benjamin an 4 -—was gaining! Could he stop the little ne fellow in time? It must be a tackle from an} behind, if at all, and the slightest slip i would bring failure. a4 -_ Behind thein caine all the others on the the run, strung out raggedly. . Benjamin would make ithe was sure ing | to make it. His pursuer could not reach tt pe in time. 4 | ‘Then it seemed’ that the Yale man had oe rings in his legs, for he sailed over the mas: round like a. ‘frightened | rabbit. He osed in on Benjamin and flung himself eadlong at the little fellow. FRANK MERRIWELL AS FULL BACK. ankles. 25 Down -slipped the tackler’s hands, down from the hips to the knees, to the Down went Benjamin with a hard thump, stopped within three yards of Yale’s line. Twenty men piled upon tackler and tackled. . Deep down beneath that mass was Frank Metriwell, his hands clinging like hooks to Benjamin’s ankles. He had stopped what seemed to be a sure touchdown for Harvard at that early stage of the game. CHAPTER XIV. HARVARD LEADS. Beside Inza Burrage, in a splendid posi- tion to watch the game, sat a pretty girl with fluffy hair. She wore Harvard’s colors, and seemed greatly excited. “There he is!’? she exclaimed at vari- ous stages of the game—‘‘there is Jack! See him, Inza!”’ ““Yes,’’ said Inza, ‘‘I see him.” But her eyes were not on the one meant by her companion. She was watching Frank Merriwell, and she bit. her lip as she watched. She had seen him receive her note, she had seen him read it, tear it in pieces, cast the pieces aside. ‘“He will play!’’ she muttered. will break his promise to me!”’ Her companion heard her words. ‘*You said Mr. Merriwell would not go into the game,’’ she cried, . ‘*Yes, I said so, but I was wrong. He gave me his promise not to play, and last night he sent me a letter asking to be re- leased from that pledge. The note I sent to him a short time ago was a reminder of his promise, and a refusal to release him,’? “Yet he will play ?”? ‘(He is going into the game.” “Then it can’t be that he thinks a as much of you as you supposed.”’ “He does not. This has settled that point,’’ “Ym afraid Harvard will not win, Inza. Jack says Frank Merriwell has been Harvard’s hoodoo in everything.’ He was sure Harvard would obtain this game if Merriwell did not play. You said he did not mean to play, but I wanted you to ask him not to do so.” at ‘He ‘“‘T did ask him, something I should not have done had we not been such friends, Paula, although I was curious to know how much influence I had over him. Oh, I think he is the meanest fel- low! Ishall hate him now!’’ Inza’s eyes were flashing and her face flushed. She was intensely angry, and she showed it. Paula Benjamin was startled. **Oh, you musn’t be too hard on him!”’ she said. ‘You know how much Jack loves Harvard, and how crazy he is for Harvard to beat Yale in this game. I was almost as crazy inyself, and that is why I wanted you to ask Mr. Merriwell not to » »9 play. ‘**T shall never trust him again, pered Inza, hoarsely—‘‘never! He has broken his promise to me.”’ 7F ‘*It is certain he loves Yale as dearly. as Jack loves Harvard. He may think it is his duty to break his word for the sake of Yale.” ‘‘T don’t care! I don’t care! I do hope Harvard will beat!”’ With breathless interest the two girls ‘watched the game. They were nerved to a point of intense excitement. They saw Harvard ~stand’ like a stone wall against Yale’s repeated assaults. It was a battle of gladiators. Then came Harvard’s tiger-like assault upon Yale’s centre, and Jack Benjamin went through with the ball. The great crowd of spectators rose as one person, seething with excitement, as Benjamin flew toward, Yale’s line. ‘‘Hurrah!’’ cried the sister of the little fellow. “That is Jack—my brother Jack! He’ll make a touchdown! They can’t @ catch him—they can’t stop him!’ ‘Wait a bit!’ palpitated Inza Burrage, who was clinging convulsively to Paula’s arm. ‘‘look—look there! Frank is after him! See them run! Frank is gaining!’’ ‘“He can’t catch Jack—my brother Jack! I know he can’t doit! Jack has the start! - Hurrah! hurrah!”’ ‘He will catch him! He’s gaining! See—see him gain! He is getting nearer —nearer! Now—now—— OQh-o-o-oh!”’ Frank Merriweil had flung himself at the Harvard man and pulled him down. ‘Then the other players piled upon them. “Tknew itl’ cried Inza, with a hyse ‘ 2 FRANK MERRIWELL AS FULL BACK, whis- terical iaugh. ‘‘I knew he.could not get away from. Frank!’ ‘‘Oh, the brute!’’ sobbed Paula—‘‘the | brute to throw my brother like that! Jack a was right! Frank Merriwell will keep — Harvard from winning! I hate him!’’ ‘“Ves,’’ fluttered Inza, ‘‘he will doitif | it is in his power. Oh, he isa wonderful | player! But he thinks more of his old college than he doesof me! Ill never speak to him again !’? Paula sat down and cried, while Inza did her best to comfort her friend. > Soon the game was on again, as fierce fF | as ever. Yale fought desperately, driving = Harvard back a little , but. it seemed that | ss. Harvard had the superior feam. Allthe @ fighting was on Yale’s territory. Atlast, @ / as the first half drew to aclose Har- @ vard’s left Half back went round YaJe’s 4 1! end, and the most masterly interference | Tf prevented Yale from stopping him. He FF ¥ crossed the line and made a touchdown. t Then MHarvard’s full back had time 4 enough to kick a goal, and the first half 9 je ended with Harvard triumphant. —_ i maa 6G CHAPTER XV. ant WON BACK. ; . wedi anvard! Har-vard! Har-vard! Rah- |. %2 rah-rah! Rah-rah-rah! Rah-rah-rah! Harvard !’’ = be It was a scene of wild rejoicing. Crim- — BSP son fluttered all over the great throng. Where was the blue? go ‘Vale isn’t in the game for a ign @ ga said some who were supposed to be ex- to perts. ‘‘The Yale fellows found they were butting against a stone wall every time they tried a cae This is Harvard’s year.’ a oe ‘Harlowe triumph. a ‘It’s going to be an easy thing for — our money, Harris,’’ he chuckled. ‘‘Yale — can’t do anything ‘with Harvard to-day.’’ “That’s the way it looks,’? admitted Harris; ‘‘but the game is not over.’ ‘The game will run the same way till it is over. Yale’s rushers could do noth- — ing with Harvard’s life. Frank Merti- — well is the only man who has distin-_ guished himself for Yale, and he conld’ do nothing but delay the inevitable for a short time.’’ was beaming with = ‘That was the only real good oppor- tunity Merriwell has had,’’ said Sport. ‘*He showed what he could do then. You remember his run through Princeton’s line last. year ?’? ‘“That’s all right. Yale can’t break an opening to let him through Harvard’s pl line this year.’ . “‘T hope not, but I shan’t feel sure of: it till the game is over.’’ F The Harvard crowd cheered and sang : songs till they were hoarse.. They hugged 2 each other, tooted horns and indulged in . ‘wild antics to give vent to the exuber- t ance of their feelings. 6 The sons of Old Eli who had come up ' from New Haven to see the game were .. @@ dolefully silent. They had seen Yale fling '; @ herself upon Harvard time after time and -# rebound as a ball rebounds from a solid * ® wall, and their hearts were weak within ae them: LH 1e i F Paula Benjamin was almost crazy with lf 4 joy. She laughed and cried by turns. “i . “Oh, the dear fellows!’ she exclaimed. -“) ‘I could hug every one of them!”’ ' Inza Burrage said nothing, but upon _ her face there was a look of unspeakable disappointment and dismay. In her heart 4 -} she was crying: ht . ‘Will Yale let them beat? Will Frank be beaten? If he is, Iam sure I’]] never a speak to him again!”’ ~ Goon the men formed for the beginning of the second half. Harvard went into the ” ' game on the jump, and Yale was forced os _ to resort to defence play. It seemed that sik there was no stopping the crimson in its aan q onward march to victory. Foot by foot ais and inch by inch Yale was beaten back till the ball was on the twenty yard line. ith | hen Halliday revived hope in a meas- ; ure by taking it back to the centre of foe the field, where he was downed with such ahs violence that he was picked up quite un- 583 onscious, and another man had to be put ted. | his place, while he was carried from : ne field, limp and covered with dirt and till ne | yth- It seemed that Halliday’s desperate do- rri- r-die break gave Yale courage and hope. tin-. Hor some time she held Harvard at the’ uld’ 4 Centre of the field, not allowing a gain of foot.’ Then old Eli got the ball and shed it into Harvard’s territory. What a glorious fight it was! Now _anything more, - started out with FRANK MERRIWELL AS FULL BACK, 27 every Yale man in the crowd was on his feet cheering like mad. Those cheers seemed to make fiends of the defenders of the blue. They played, every man of ’em, as if they were in battle and ready to sacrifice their lives without a moment of hesitation. They were irrisistible. Har- vard’s stone wall. was broken at last. Merriwell was in the thick of it. Four times he advanced the ball. Others took turns, and, at last, the Wall was on Har- vard’s twenty-five yard line. Then there was a hush, for it suddenly became plain that Merriweil would try to kick a goal from the field. It -was a des- perate expedient. Yale feared to lose the ball and have it carried back to the center ina minute. Such a loss would be fatal, and Forrest knew it. Frank had been given the signal to kick. ‘*He can’t do it!’’ cried scores. Then they thought of the beautiful kick he had made at the very beginning of the game and were silent. Frank advanced to the proper position, exactly the right blade of grass. There he poised himself. Cross fiddled with the ball between his legs. The suspense became intense. Suddenly the, ball was snapped and passed back. Punk—Frank kicked it. Away it sailed. | He did it before those Harvard tigers could down him. It was a glorious kick. Through the goal-posts and over the bar it sailed. Then the Yale yell was heard. But the game was not over. Harvard had secured a touchdown and a goal. Yale had secured a goal. It seemed that she had feared utter defeat, else she: would have fought for the touchdown. The Harvard crowd remained confi- dent. They crowed,sfor they said Yale had displayed her own lack of confidence by kicking a goal from the field. The time was growing short, and there seemed little chance for Yale to do Harvard men laughed and said Harvard would ebtain another touchdown and goal before the end. Little time was lost in putting the ball into play again. Harvard immediately rushes. Now, to the astonishment of all, Yale was the stone wall. FRANK MERRIWELL AS FULL BACK. Soon the ball went to Yale. Mills took it round Harvard’s end for fifteen yards. Powell bucked the center with it and gained some ground. Harvard men began to get anxious. Things had changed since the first half. Harvard was on the defensive now. What had caused the change no one could tell. Back and still back the Harvard line was forced. Would Yale try to secure another goal from the field? ‘That was the question. Paula Benjamin was almost crying. “Tt’s Frank Merriwell!’’ she said. ‘‘Tack said he would hoodoo Harvard, and he has!’? “It is Frank !”’ thought Inza. ‘‘He has put life into the Yale men. He has given them confidence somehow. He must win now—he will!’’ The ball was getting dangerously near Harvard’s line. The Cambridge men fought to hold it during the last few minutes of the game. Then, with a sudden movement, a man was sent through Harvard’s centre, al- though an around the end play had been anticipated. It was a tricky move, and took Harvard by surprise. Like a shot that man went through Harvard’s line. He ran with wonderful speed, with interferers on either side and a bit in advance. It was Frank Merriwell, making a last desperate effort for a touchdown! One by one the interferers were flung aside till he was alone, hugging the ball, running as if for his life. Three men came down on him while he had fifteen yards to go. They flung themselves on him like famished wolves. They thought to crush him to the ground. Then ten thousand people gasped with astonishment, scarcely able to believe what they saw. It did not seem that Merriwell slack- ened speed much, and he still went for- ward, carrying those three men on his back and shoulders. They tried to drag him down, and others tried to reach him. They could not break him to the ground, and, with them all on his back he carried the ball over the line. Then he fell, and the ball was beneath him. It was a touchdown for Yale! Besides that, it was the most wonderful touch- down ever made ona football field. A mighty roar went up -from tlre spectators when they realized what had happened. Never before had they witnessed any- thing like that. They knew the man who made the play had won fame. To-morrow his picture would be in every Boston and New York newspaper. Oh, how the Yale men shrieked and screamed and roared. "They were like human beings gone mad. ‘They were crazed with their admiration for the man who had done that trick. They longed to take him in their arms, to bear him on their shoulders, to do him every honor. Gloriously had Frank Merriwell won back his lost prestige! Let a man breathe a slur against him now and there would | bea hundred ready to knock that man =~ down. When the mass untangled Merriwell was seen lifted to his feet. He stood up, wavering a bit, supported by Forrest, who had an arm round Frank’s body. Then Frank pushed Forrest off. Time — was. precious, and his soul was strong. Hasty preparations were made, “and, for all of what he had just passed through, — “s Merriwell kicked a goal. Three seconds later the game was over, and Yale had won. Then all Merriwell’s admirers neal upon the field to surround him, to foht S * 4 for a look at him, to roar their delight— 3 to roar, roar, roar! [THE END. ] In the next number (84) of the Tip Top Weekly will be published ‘‘Frank ot, A Point of Honor,”’ — Merriwell’s Duel; by the author of ‘‘Frank Merriwell.’”’ ae P lOPHEEKLY. NEW YORK, NOVEMBER 13, 1897. Terms to Tip Top Weekly Mail Subscribers. _— © (POSTAGE FREE.) BS 3 months - - - - « - = 65c.| Oneyear - = - - - - - $2.00 F 4 months - - - - + = - 85c,j 2 copiesone year - - - - 4.00 4 6 months - - - - $1.25} 1 copy two years - - + - ¢ 4.00 How TO SEND MoNEY.—By post-office or express money order - registered letter, bank check or drat, at our risk. At your own , E risk if sent by postal note, currency, coin, or postage stamps in eS ordinary letter. ; RECKIPTS.—Receipt of your remittance is acknowledged by proper change of number on yourlabel. If notcorrect you have not been : a B properly credited, and should let us know at once. 4 : ‘To CLUR RatsEers.—Upon request we will send sample copies to aid you in obtaining subscribers. . - All letters should be addressed to a STREET & SMITH’S TIP TOP WEEKLY, 3 — 238 William St., New York City. . 4 C { M e Zz aa ‘ | $25~G0LD~$25 | — Which is your favorite character ie | in Tip Top Weekly stories aside from Frank Merriwell him- Self ? +o Five prizes of five dollars gold, each, will be given to the writers of the five best letters on the above subject. If you read the famous ‘“Merriwell” sto- ries you must have formed a liking for one of Frank’s companions. Write us a BRIEF letter, stating your favorite and giving the reasons. for .making the choice, and address the _ letter, or postal card, to “Character Contest,” Tip Top Weekly, Street & ‘Smith, 2 38 William Street, New York City. This contest will end DECEMBER 11. 1897, and the prizes will be forwarded to the successful contestants before Christmas Day. ee ‘An Ideal Publication for the American Youth.” small TIP TOP WEEKLY, Calks With Cip Cop Readers, The subject of the next ‘‘Frank Merriwell’’ story is rather out of the common. At this end of the nine- teenth century points of honor are generally settled by arbitration, or, among sonie classes, by resort to the simple but effective arms provided by Dame Nature. Duelling obtains in some European countries, especially in France, but in these United States it is seldom heard of. In the present case, Frank’s duel (described in, ‘‘Frank Merriwell’s Duel; or, A Point of Honor,’’ No. 84 Tip Top Weekly) forms the basis of an in- tensely interesting story. And it can well be assured that Frank did not fight without a just cause. Bicycle riders prone to ‘‘freshness’? should take warning by the experience of the youth described in the following article: The other day a bicycle rider found a rare chance for sport. He was near the suburbs of Worcester, A farm wagon appeared, witha cow trailing behind, patiently submitting berself to be led by a rope from the front seat. The bicycle idiot rode up to the cow and began a series of tactics to annoy her. He punchod her in the ribs, yelled in her ears, aud dodged around her legs. Occasionally he fell back and taking hold of her tail, attempted to make her tow his bicycle. The cow ob- jected and kicked viciously. This vnly amused the rider, and he directed his attention to an annoyance that would induce her to continue kicking, meanwhile keeping out of reach of ‘her heels. finally the animal stopped kicking aud appeared to become indifferent. Some spectators on a passing street car observed, how- ever, that she had turned her head so as to keep an eye on her persecutor. It took her a-few minutes to get the range, and meanwhile the bicycle idiot grew bold and reckless, encouraged by her quiet behavior. Suddenly the animal darted forward, so as to get a slack in the rope, stopped short and let both heels fly. Her aim was sure this time, and the bicycle went out from under the idiot’s feet. ‘lhe street car spectators raised a shout, the motorman rang a chime with his gong, and the father and his boy whipped up the horse. The impassive cow only wiggled her ears and gave an imaginary fly on her side a triumphant slap with her tail. The wheel was so twiste that the rider had to walk home as helplessly as the cow was being led. He will not sue the owner of the cow. J ee / Correspondence. R. L. &, Atlantic City, N. J.—1. The question of Frank Merriwell’s marriage is a thing of the remote future, 2. There will be quarterlies issued of the publi- cation you name, 3. Thanks for courteous letter. F. T, M., Pennsylvania.—1, Turtles will eat worms, insects, bread crumbs, etc, 2. The cause as- signed for freckles is that the iron in the blood form- ing a junction with the oxygen, leaves a rusty mark where the junction takes place. The following remedy is said to remove summer freckles: Into a half-pint of ‘milk squeeze the juice of a lemon with a spoonful of brandy and boil, skimming well; adda dram of rock alum. i Inquirer, Kittanning, Pa.—1l. Santa Fe is the terri- torial capital of New Mexico. Seven thousand popula-. tion, on Atchison, Topeka, and Santa Fe, and terminus Texas, Santa Fe and Northern Railroads, 20 miles east of Rio Grand river. Is a mining, agricultural and_stock-raising country. 2. Twenty six copies. 3. Your enthusiastic letter is very flattering, and we hope you will tell your friends your opinion. J, C.M,, Philadelphia, Pa.—The solution used in making ‘‘secret ink’’ sbould be so nearly colorless that the writing cannot be seen till the agent is ap- plied to render it visible. Boi) oxide of cobalt in acetic acid. If a common salt be added, the writing becomes green when heated, but with nitre it becoines a pale rose color, By using a weak solution of sulphate of copper, the writing becomes blue when exposed to the vapor of ammonia. TIP TOP WEEKLY. In the Czar’s Name. The inns in Russia are all very much alike; and rooms, for the most part. small, are only separated from each other by a thin partition. During the reign of the late Czar, a courier had to travel toa town on an important mission. He went to one of the first hotels in the place. Almost on the first day he remarked that there was a guest in the adjoining room who got up at the same time every day, went out, and returned home exactly at the same hour. This punctuality seemed very strange to him, and he made use of the spy system, which is so common in Russia. He soon learnt that his neighbor was a Jew, and by lodking through a keyhole he observed how the Jew, every time he went out or came in, drew a chest from under the bed and put it on the table. Then-he would look round timidly and anxiously to see if anyone was listening to or watching him, slowly open the chest with a little key, take out a second and smaller chest out of the first, and out of the second yet a third. Into this last the Jew always gazed with such an eager look and sweet smile that the courier supposed it must contain something very precious—perhaps the whole of the Jew’s property. The Jew’s hands at last followed his looks, and after a long search he drew out a carefully-wrapped up packet of brand new bank notes. The chest plainly contained papers of great value. , Day after day did the Russian courier observe these proceedings. The immense wealth of the Jew was al- ways floating before his eyes. ‘*The chest and its contents shall be mine,’’ he said to himself. ‘‘What do I care fora Jew, if I can only get his money? But how shall I manage? Ah, know;’’ and he went at once to the first police agent. ‘‘Police officer,’? he said, ‘‘I have been terribly robbed—almost all my property has been taken from > me.’ **What! What do I hear?’’ said the officer in amaze- ment. ‘‘Have you any traces or .suspicion as to who this bold thief may be?’’ ‘Not suspicion only,’’ replied the Russian: ‘‘it is certainly a Jew—my neighbor in the hotel. He must, last night, while I was out, have got through the door which leads from his room into mine and robbed me. He took allmy paper money, as well as three chests in which it was enclosed.”’ ‘*An investigation shall take place at once,’’ said the police officer. He accordingly took eight men with him, and, in company with the courier who pretended he had been robbed, he went to the hotel, The Jew had just returned to his apartment. ‘‘Open in the name of thé Czar,’’ exclaimed the officer, as he knocked at the door of the Jew’s room. The Jew opened the door himself, but the moment he saw the police his color changed, a horrible look of despair and rage came over his face, and with a cry he spraug from the door to his bed. The police were scarcely in the room before there was the report of a pisto] shot, and the Jew fell dead on the bed. He had-sent a bullet through his brain. The police supposed that the Jew. had done this to avoid being arrested for robbery. They searched at once-for the chest, which was soon found and minutely examined. On looking through the bank notes, the face of the police officer suddenly assumed a severe expression, Stili it was an —— cheerful voice that, turn- ing to the courier, he asked: ‘*Are you quite sure that these bank notes are your pa e ; ‘SHow can you doubt it??? replied the courier, sur- prised. ‘‘Certainly they are my property !’? “Can you swear to it?”’ ‘At this very moment, if you like.”’ ‘*Well,’? said the police officer solemnly, ‘‘then I arrest you, in the name of the Czar, for the notes are forged |’? . The Russian courier stood speechless with horror. What could he reply? The pit he had dug for the Jew he had fallen into himself. He was condemned to labor for life in Siberia. Pos Applause. (Letters from Tip Top WEEKLY readers are always acceptable, Wiews and suggestions will be welcomed.) Boston, Oct. 12, 1897. Dear Sir: Ihave read many and many a weekly story paper and have never found the reading in any of them so good as in the Tip Top Weekly. John J. Dunne. Troy, N. Y., Oot. 6, 1897. Messrs.: I wish to congratulate you on your fine payer. I am one of the many that read it and think it is the finest paper published. Hoping that you will continue to publish them, I remain, Yours, sincerely, Fred Cohen. Belleflower, Ill., Oct. 1, 1897. Street & Smith, Publishers Tip Top Weekly— vear Sirs: I thought I would write and tell you how much I think of your grand Weekly. I have read almost every number. There isa lesson in each and every one which us American boys would do.well to re- member. All boys should read them, for they are the best, because they are the Tip Top. The Tip Top Weekly has good, print, a handsome colored cover which is sure to attract notice any where. IT admire Frank Merriwell’s true American grit and nerve, and his adventures are so novel and boylike that it makes them very interesting to read. If any one wants to read stories of school, college, travel, fun and adventure, I advise them to buy the Tip Top Weekly. Yours very respectfully, Charles A, Innis. New Olreans, Oct. 1, 1897. Dear Sirs: I began reading the Tip Top Weekly when No. 18 came out, and have been reading it ever since. The stories are splendid. I think the Tip Top Weekly the bast five-cent weekly published. Wishing it success, I remain your constant reader, Hugh Nelson. Elkhart, Ind, Sept. 25, 1897. Gentlemen: We have been reading your Frank Mer- riwell stories from No.1 to 74, and think they are first class, The ones we liked best was Frank Merri- well’s Queen and Frank Merriwell’s Death Shot. Hoping long life to your libraries, we remain, _ Your sincere readers, Walter Lafabre, ° Hazel Todd. , ' Elkhart, Ind., Sept, 22, 1897. Messrs. Street & Smith: Weare steady readers of the Tip Top Library and like it well. We have read every aumber from 1 to 69, and’ will continue them. . We wish for a long continuation. Yours truly, Aubrey ‘Tracy, Charles Dentz, Harry Hayden. Elkhart, Ind., Sept. 24, 1897. “Dear Sirs: We have read your Tip Top: Weekly since the first and think they are the best boys’ stories ever published. We can hardly wait until they come, and widh they were published daily. With best wishes, we are, Yours truly, tubie Baumgartner, ' [key Wear. ~ P San Francisco, Cal., Sept. 17, 1897. ° Dear Sirs: Having read every issue of your paper, I take great pleasure in writing my appreciation of it te you. In my opinion, it is the ‘‘best of the best.’ It is indeed the best weekly published: Athletic ad-_ ventures are usually exciting and indeed the Frank — Merriwell stories are no exception. a Wishing it success in its career, I remain, ‘‘A name- sake of your hero,”’ r Frank Littlefield, a ’Friseo boy, : Manhattan, Kansas, Sept. 15, 1897. Dear Sirs: I am much pleased to know that ‘I ama reader of your Tip lop. I hope that we shall soon see Merriwell back at Yale. Jack Fletcher, ARMY AND NAVY _ ———Special Football Number——— TESORO \JUMBER TWENTY-TWO, Army anv Navy, on sale by all news- 4 ; dealers, Saturday, November thirteenth, will be the special foot- 7 L ball number of this popular juvenile publication. It will contain, in j : addition to the regular features, a splendid article on the American | national winter game, profusely illustrated with half-tone photographs 1 ' of the leading players and teams throughout the United States. More ‘} than thirty schools and colleges will be represented in text and | illustrations. > ' PRBIOLOVERSROLORSRSRSRR ARMY AND NAVY _ ; is a forty-eight page weekly with illuminated cover. It contains each _week two complete ’stories on cadet life at the West Point Military 7 Academy and the Annapolis Naval Academy. These fascinating school stories are the best ever written on this subject, and can be found : only in Army AND Navy. In addition, each number contains three erials by well-known writers, entertaining departments and_ short tories. Forty-eight pages, splendidly illustrated stories, illuminated over, containing a new scene each week; and the price is FIVE CENTS. Send for Sample Copies: ——« ARSRORERERERORORSRNROE ce spa REEL go SMEEE. 258 William Street, - | - NEW YORK CITY. 32 "TIP TOP WEEKLY, Tip Top Weekly BINDERS. This binder will keep your papers always clean and smooth. No more missing numbers, Handy to refer to and ornamental as well as useful. Sent post-paid to any address on receipt of price, fifty cents. Address, STREET & SMITH, NEW YORK CITY. WRESTLING. History tells us that wrestling was the first form of athlet; pastime. Without doubt, it gives strength and firmness, combined with quickness and pliability, to the limbs, vigor to the body , coolness and discrimination to the head and elasticity to the ten. per, the whole forming an energetic combination of the greatest power to be found in man. The book is entitled PRoressonr MULDOON’S WRESTLING. It is fully illustrated, and will be sent postpaid on receipt of ten cents. Address MANUAX LIBRARY, 25 Rose street, New York. AMATEUR PHOTOGRAPHY. i i Many people imagine that a photographer’s camera is a difficult machine to handle, and that the worlkAs dirty and disagreeable. All thisisa mistake. Photography is a clean, light, und pleasant ac- comiplishment, within the reach of all, The camera will prove a triend, reporter, and helper. With a very inexpensive camera any boy or girl can now learn not only to take good pictures, but pictures that there is everywhere a deinand for at remunerative prices.