LARGEST WEEKLY CIRCULATION IN AMERICA An ideal publicatio Bator the he American Youth Issued Weekly. By Subscription $2.50 per year. Entered as Second Ci Matter at New } ork Po: st Office by STREET & SMITH, 278 Wetwiam St., N.Y. No. 393. AN Price, Five Cents. FROM HIS POSITION AT THE SIDE OF THE FIELD, DICK WAS SURE HE PLAINLY SAW FLINT TRIP BLACK. KAA AAA AAA AINA IO III HEEFT AE AAI IIIA HEE ETH ETE HEHEHE TE SHEE HEHEHE HEHEHE TEI. ‘Tip Top Weekly. (LARGE SIZE.) eM LANL a ee LVL ALA INP POL ASN AS AIP ALA Ad OP If you have not read them, look over this catalogue and you will read a list of stories unexcelled in any part of this work to-day. Don’t fail to read these stories if you have not already. > IIIS SIS ISIIA SASS BEE HIEIIIIERISIIISISIGSISISHEISIK IGG GIS SISISIRISI SSIS ISISI SSSI ISISISISISISSIGI IOI Ii ie fei ! x 361—Dick Merriwell’s Power; or, Settling the Score with Eaton. 362—Frank Merriwell’s Defense; or, The Struggle for the Queen Mystery Mine. 363—Dick Merriwell’s Dream; or, Foiling the Bank Breakers. 364—Frank Merriwell’s Backers; or, Old Friends to the Rescue. 365—Dick Merriwell’s Duty; or, True to Old Fardale. 366—Frank Merriwell’s Talking Dog; or, Faithful unto Death. 367—Dick Merriwell on the Diamond; or, The Boy Wonder’s Backstop. 368—Frank Merriwell’s Manhood; or, To the Rescue of June. 369—Dick Merriwell’s Triumph; or, Arlington’s Last Trick. 370—Frank Merriwell’s Fighting Blood: or, The Battle for the San Pablo. 37i1—Dick Merriwell’s “Combination ;” or, Playing the Game for Every Point. 372—Frank Merriwell Marked; or, The Mystery of the Black Touch. 373—Dick Merriwell’s Firmness; or, A Steady Hand and a Sure Heart. t 374—Frank Merriwell’s Gold Train; or, His Great Victory in Mexico. 375—Dick Merriwell’s Mission; or, From Fardale to the West. si 376—Frank Merriwell’s Battle Royal; or, Up Against the Wizards. 377—Dick Merriwell’s Opportunity; or, Making the Most of His Chance. 378—Frank Merriwell on the Slab; or, Holding Down the Western Wonders. 379—Dick Merriwell’s Promise; or, For the Sake of a Girl. 380—Frank Merriwell’s Coup; or, The Stratagem That Won. 381—Dick Merriwell’s Fast Work; or, The Champions of the North. 382—Frank Merriwell’s Force: or, Disarming His Enemy. 383—~Dick Merriwell Surprised; or, Cap’n Wiley’s Wind, Jammers. 384—Frank Merriwell’s Quick Move; or, Cooling off Cap’ Wiley. 385—Dick Merriwell’s Red Friend; or, Old Joe Crowfoot to the Front. 386—Frank Merriwell’s Nomads; or, Cap’n Wiley’s Clever Work. 387—Dick Merriwell’s Distrust: or, Meeting the Masked Champions. 388—Frank Merriwell’s Grand Finish; or, The Independent Champions of America. | 389—Dick Merriwell Back at Fardale; or, Gettine Onto the Eleven. 390—Dick Merriwell’s New Enemy; or, The Hatred of Barron Black. 391—Dick Merriwell’s Hard Strugele; or, Great Work on the Gridiron. 392—Dick Merriwell Held in Check: or, Chester Arlington’s Successful Move. 393—Dick Merriwell’s Firm Hand; or, Settling Old Scores. ? . 394—Dick Merriwell’s Last Resort: or, Fighting Hard to the Finish. With Tre Tor No. 285 begins the now famous Fardale Series, in which Dick “Merriwell has entered the good old school at which the career of Frank Merriwell also began some years ago. Thousands of young Americans will want to read of the fine things that: Dick Merriwell has done. is doing and will in the future do. , STREET & SMITH, Publishers, . . 238 William St., New York. Fe a cs apes es FI II TTI I I IASI ISS ISIS SSI IT AI Ere eT ; Lo «Sr eaehiarecotaas.) Seems kak BS ‘ : te wes ee ee es a = gO cit ti oh .. «eRe ce di nea: Issued Weekly. By Subscription $2.50 per year. Entered as Second Class Matter at the N. ¥Y. Post Office, by STREET & SMITH, 278 William St., N. ¥. Entered according to Act of Comgress in the year 1903, in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, Washington, D. C. No. 393. DICK MERRIWELL’S NEW YORK, October 24, 1903. Price Five Cents. nee RM HAND; OR, Settling Old Scores. By BURT L. STANDISH. CHAPTER L A BOY WITH A BATTLE TO FIGHT: “Pard,” said Brad Buckhart, “a cyclone is certain due to strike yereabouts before long.” Dick looked up from the book he had been studying. “What's that?” he asked. “What do you mean, Brad ?” ; “T certain see it coming a whole lot,’ declared the Westerner, who had his chair tilted back and his feet elevated to the top of the table. “There is going to be something doing between this Dave Flint and Barron Black. You hear me softly chirp!” For some time Dick had anticipated trouble between the two boys mentioned. He knew that between them there was an old and unsettled score. Black had never made an effort to hide his dislike for Flint, and the boy with the scar had seemed to avoid Barron as far as it was possible. Now the two were to play together on the eleven, and this would make it apsolutely necessary for them to have dealings with each other. Still Dick wondered what Buckhart had seen, and so he asked: “What makes you think there is going to be trou- ble between those chaps, Brad ?” “There sure is a heap of bad blood between them, Dick. I have seen it in Flint’s eyes. When that fellow hates any one, he hates them a-plenty. And I don’t reckon that Barron Black is the kind to forgive and forget very soon. It is a bad thing to have two men on the team who have it in for each other that way.” “T know it,” nodded Dick. “They are both good men, and we need them. Black is fast on his feet and has lots of dash and go. Flint is a perfect bulldog in the matter of staying.” “He certain is a bristled animal for punishment,” agreed the Texan. ‘He never seems to get enough of it. I sure opine he'd aeecoe a champion pugilist - he ever went into the ring.” “But he has no ambition in that direction. He isi not a fellow who will fight unless forced to do so.” TiP TOP “Maybe not now, partner; but. I. reckon fighting comes second nature to him when he is pushed to the wall.” Dick smiled a little. “Oh, we all know he can fight. He demonstrated that to Chester Arlington’s satisfaction once on a time. I think you remember about it?” “IT should guess yes,” laughed the Westerner. “Why, Dick, he’d certain killed little Chet if it hadn’t been for you. I understand Arlington takes mighty good care to keep away from him now. He has learned his lesson, you bet your boots!” “Well, we'll try to keep Dave and Black from get- ting at each other,” said Dick. ‘‘Perhaps we can do i‘ oS “T doubt it most mightily, pard,” asserted Buckhart, letting his feet fall from the table and rising from his chair. “What say if we amble down to the gym?” Merriwell shook his head. “Can’t do it,” he said. “I have got to grind a while. Have to put in the dead licks in order to keep up with my studies, you know.” “Well, I am going down to yank the chest-weights a while,” said Brad. “I have got a little bottled-up energy that I-want to work off.” “You'll get the opportunity to work it off in the game to-morrow,” assured the captaitt of the eleven, with a smile. “That’s sure to be a warm go.” . “We'll be there,’ sung Broad, as he strolled out of the room. oe Buckhart had not been gone ten minutes when there came a knock at the door. “Come in,” called Dick. Dave Flint slowly entered the room. The expres- sion on his face told Dick beyond question that some- thing of a serious nature was troubling him. “Hello, Dave, nity boy!” said Dick. “Have a chair. Sit down and make yourself comfortable.” “Excuse me,” said Dave, in a low tone. “I don’t believe I will sit down. I wanted to find you alone, and so, seeing Buckhart going into the gym, I came up.” Dick pushed his book aside and squared around in his chair. “What's up, Dave?” he asked. you ?” : Flint came and stood by the table, upon which he rested his knuckles, but his eyes reftised to meet Dick’s. “T want to find out something,” said the boy with “What can I do for WEEKLY. “T want to ask you a the scar, somewhat. huskily. question,”’ Then, as if suddenly forcing himself. to it, he de- manded : “Will Barron Black play in the game to-morrow?” Merriwell nodded. “Tt’s very likely. I am thinking of using him.” Dave hunched his square shoulders a little. “Capt. Mer- T have got Once I told you my story. You know how Dick, Dick, I am afraid “T was afraid of that!” he exclaimed. riwell, | want to make a confession to you. to do it. much I hate Black, and why. T will kill that fellow !’ The final words seemed a cry that came direct from ~ Dave Flint’s heart. “T know how you felt,” asserted Dick; “but I fancied that you had fought against it and won the victory.” “T fancied so, myself, but now that he is here at the school I am beginning to fear that I have not con- quered. Dick, you know I have the best of reasons for hating him as much as Ido. You know how he has looked down on me with scorn and contempt. My father was poor; his father was rich. We were boys together in the same village. He mocked and derided me! He turned all the other boys against me! He made me an outcast! Although you may not think it, I am not the sort of a fellow who likes to be alone. I enjoy having friends as much as any one. He robbed me of the friends that I might have-had. The only boys who wguld have anything to do with me were the young toughs of the village. It is a wonder that I didn’t become the worst tough among them. Had that happened, Barron Black would have been responsible. Think of it, Dick—of my feelings when all the boys would point at me and call me the son of a jailbird! And my father never did a wrong thing in his life! He was unjustly accused.” Flint was now excitedly pacing up and down the floor, his usually grim face working with the intensity of his emotions. 1 “It’s a shame, Dave,” agreed Merriwell; “but you should be proud of your victory over yourself. You should be proud, because you were not driven to the bad.” “T was compelled to keep away from Black after I resolved to make a man of myself,” muttered Flint, hoatsely. “His father tried. to send me to the reform school. They said I would be hanged. Oh, Dick! per- a _ promised Dick, earnestly. aie. Fhe haps you think you know how much I have been through; but I doubt if you can fully understand.” Young Merriwell’s sympathy was again stirred to its depths. “But you should not let yourself go back now,” he said. “You are on the right road.” “You don’t know, Dick—you don’t know! When that fellow comes near me there is a terrible feeling in my heart. I have to fight constantly to prevent myself from doing him harm. I know that IJ can’t play as well with him in the game. I think of him when I should be thinking of the game alone. Dick, I think you will have to choose between us. We can’t both play on the team.” Dick arose to his feet and placed his arm across Dave’s shoulders, walking up and down the room with him. “Flint, old man,” he said, earnestly, “I believe this is the culminating struggle of your life. You must face it and win it. You must conquer your revengeful desires. Victory now means that you will have com- mand of yourself in the future.” In a twinkling Flint whirled, seizing his companion by both shoulders, standing face to face with him. “Look!” he cried, “look at this scar on my cheek! I am disfigured for life! Black did it! He bears no mark that can be seen, although I stripped him naked, tied him to a tree, and lashed him until he fainted. He is not disfigured! Every time I look on his unmarked face, and then see the reflection of my own in the mir- ror, it fills my‘soul with a feeling of fury that threatens to turn me into a madman. What if you had that scar on your cheek! Wouldn’t you hate the fellow who gave it to you? Wouldn’t you like to kill him? Try to put yourself in my place, Dick.” “T have, eet and | admire you for the nobility you have shown. “Oh, it’s not nobility, Dick—not that! I realized that I must conquer myself or be ruined. There is nothing noble about me. I am just a miserable chap, with a mean disposition. I am afraid of myself.” “T’ll_ do everything I can to help you, old man,” “Face it out. J am sure you will win. Black is a splendid football player. For _ the sake of old Fardale he should be used on the tear. Think of that!” _“T have tried to think of it,’ muttered Dave, shaking his head. “I have tried! Dick, I would give all the “world if I could be like you! You have been the best } WEEKLY. 3 friend I have ever known—the only true boy friend I ever had.” “T will be your friend through thick aid thin. You may depend on me; but I want you to do what is right.” Flint now betrayed sudden symptoms of breaking down. “All right—all right!” he exclaimed, quickly and chokingly. “I will do my best, Dick.” Then he wheeled suddenly and pushed out of the room. “Too bad!” muttered Dick; “but he must fight it out with himself. That is the only way.” | Then he went back to his books. CHAPTER IL BARRON BLACK MAKES A REQUEST. Flint had not been gone ten minutes when Barron Black himself appeared. Dick was surprised: when Barron showed himself at the door, but he invited the fellow in. Black seemed nervous. “Say, captain,” he said, “are you going to play me to-morrow ?” “T have not decided that point yet,’ answered Dick, shortly. To his surprise, Barron said: “Perhaps you hadn’t better.” “Eh?” exclaimed Dick. ‘‘Hadn’t better?” “Perhaps not.” “Why not?” “Well, there is a pretty good reason. I want to play badly enough. I would like to be in that game just to show Chester Arlington what I can do. Now, point- blank, captain, I want to ask you a question: Who do you think is the best man for the team, Dave Flint or Barron Black ?”’ “Tf I felt able to answer that question,” retorted Merriwell, sharply, “I would not do it. You have made a mistake in coming here and asking me anything of the sort.” Black flushed. “T do not see why,” he said. “I would be a fine captain to tell any one of my men that I considered another his superior, and I would make an equally bad mistake by telling him that I considered him better than some other fellow. You should be able to see that, Mr. Black. The whole team drop Dave Flint. 4 TIP TOP WEEKLY. must work together. There must be no petty ambi- tions. You are not to demonstrate that you are better than some other man on the team. You are to act as a part of the machinery that wins the game. Fortune may give you an opportunity to demonstrate your abil- ity, but on any occasion you must be ready to sacrifice yourself in order to win a game. You must stand ready to help any other man on the team to make a successful and brilliant play. That is the only way to play football as it should be played.” “That's all right, Capt. Merriwell,” agreed Black; “and that’s the reason why either Flint or myself should not be on the team. He is not in my ‘class, captain. Asa football player, he has not had the same amount of experience. As a gentleman—there is no question on that score! He comes from a very bad family. His father died in jail. I don’t care to asso- ciate with such a chap. J came here to ask you to leave him off the team when I play.” Dick sprang up, his dark eyes flashing. “Then you have wasted your time, sir!” he said, firmly and decisively. “I shall do nothing of the sort. Flint is a valuable man in the line, and he'll be kept there as much as possible. I propose to give you every opportunity to play, but you will have to do so regard- less of Flint. Further than that, in case you can assist him in any way to make a successful piay, you must do so. Mr. Black, old scores are not to be settled on the football field. If you think yourself too good to play on the same team with Flint, you know what you can do. I believe I have made myself plain enough. for your understanding.” For a moment or two it seemed that Barron Black was about to fly into a rage, but he succeeded in hold- ing himself in check. “All right,” he said, harshly. “TI don’t know that there has been’ any harm done by my asking you to As you say, the football field is no place to settle personal grudges. I believe I am more than even with Flint. He has something to remember me by.” “Shame on you for saying it!” cried Dick. “You should not be proud of the fact that you have dis- figured him.” “T am not proud of it. the circumstances,” rE got" “You have heard his story.” » “Yes.” re Perhaps you do not know “Well, of course, he colored it to suit himself.’’ “IT am satisfied that he told me nothing but the truth.” “All rights-f am willing for you to think so. Let it go at that. I will do my best, Capt. Merriwell, if you need me in the game. I hope you will give me a show to-morrow.” With this Black took his departure. CHAPTER III. WHAT HAPPENED IN THE RIVERMOUTH GAME, There was no little disappointment when Capt. Mer- riwell decided not to go into the game with River- mouth at the beginning. Dick had the best of reasons for his actions, but the fact, however, was not known to the cadets. Flint held his regular position of right tackle, and Black was sent in to play right half-back in Merri- well’s place. The game was played in Rivermouth. As usual, Fardale sent a large body of enthusiastic “fans” with her team. They were outnumbered, however, ten to one by the Rivermouth aggregation. Chester Arlington was on hand, but he had wisely decided not to bet against the cadets. Instead, he pre- tended to be intensely patriotic and enthusiastic, de- claring over and over that Fardale was sure to win. Shaw and Marsh were with him, and the trio sat some- what apart by themselves. ‘“What’s this?” exclaimed Shaw, as the two teams spread out on the field before the kick off. ‘Will you take a look at that! Where is Merriwell ?” 7 “Why, he is over there at the side of the field with Robinson,” said Arlington. “He is not going to play!” Arlington laughed sarcastically. “Just another of his little tricks!’ he declared. “It is slick of him. Can’t you see through his game?” “No; what is it?” questioned Shaw. “Why, he is going to remain on the side line until the garne becomes critical, or there is an opportunity for him.to do some bright thing. Then he will yank out some poor devil and take his place. That makes it look as though he was the whole push.” “Tf Fardale wins,” said Marsh. “Well, Fardale will win to-day,” nodded Chester, “T have a hunch that she raaeer | | #8 anes , am 2 Sa eactenseilaaticls trrteanuitiiarts ee . iil ttt: pa aS errant — . Se eee a SAREE ORs TIP TOP “You were not talking that way a few days ago,” put in Shaw. “That was because I fancied circumstances would be different. I thought we were going to be able to work that lobster,.Black. I suppose he will be a red- hot Merriwell crank after this.” “Rivermouth kicks!” exclaimed Marsh. “There she goes! The game is on.” The yellow oval was sent sailing through the air, and the game had begun in earnest. For the first five minutes it was a rattler, being nip and tuck on both sides. Rivermouth seemed to fancy that she could walk through Fardale’s lines with the greatest ease, but it did not take long for the playing of the cadets to undeceive her. Tubbs, at center, was like a rooted tree. Singleton and Douglass seemed to be mighty bowlders, against which the enemy flung itself and recoiled. Flint and Buckhart were none the less firm in their positions, while Jolliby and Haughton were alive arid up to snuff every moment of the game. Rivermouth’s team was slightly heavier than the visitors, but it was not long before the experienced spectators began remarking that the home players were slower. Fardale’s backs were wonderfully fast. Never in the history of the school had they been faster. Exactly five minutes after play began, the cadets hurled a revolving formation into the enemy’s left wing and tore open a hole, through which Black was sent with the ball. ; Gardner got through at Black’s shoulder, and he succeeded in bowling over two tacklers. This gave Barron a clear field, with the exception of the home team’s full-back. The latter closed in on him and seemed to have him trapped. Apparently the boy with the ball gave up hope of getting by and decided to make as much ground as possible before being pulled down. Just as Rivermouth’s full-back launched him- self for a tackle, however, Black dodged. He was wonderfully. fast at foot-work, for he seemed to slip through the very fingers of the tackler. In fact, the hands of the Rivermouth player brushed his clothing, but they did not fasten there. A shout went up from the watching cadets. “Great work!” cried a dozen of them. Then they yelled with delight as they saw Black scudding .down the field, with a scraggling line of players stringing out behind: him.. Barron ran as if his very life depended upon it. He heard thudding WEEKLY. a feet close behind him and felt that he might be seized at any moment. Nearer and nearer came the line that marked the end of the field. If he could only cross it! The Rivermouth crowd was silent and anxious. The cadets were in an uproar. They hammered one another on their shoulders and over their heads, shriek- ing with joy. Capt. Merriwell was laughing. “He is going to make it, Mr. Robinson!” he ex- claimed, in keen satisfaction. ‘And Dave Flint helped him do the trick! It was Flint’s work mainly that opened the hole in the line. I saw him fling the guard aside.’’ Robinson nodded, smilingly. “Black is surely a good man, Merriwell,” he said. “You will have to use him as much as you can. But he is the sort of a fellow it is necessary to handle with gloves. He is liable to kick up and rebel any time. There he goes! He is over!” Black had made a touchdown. Following the punt out, Gardner held the ball, while Black himself kicked for a goal. It was a beautiful drive straight over the center of the bar. This fine piece of work on Fardale’s part appeared to dampen the spirits of the home team for a few mo- ments. Their captain soon braced them up, and they were at it again, playing at their best. By heavy hammering they carried the ball slowly along the field until it was lost through a bungling pass. Fardale promptly attacked like a bunch of young tigers. Rivermouth fought inch by inch; but the visi- tors made repeated gains, changing their style of play- ing with such frequency that the enemy was kept con- stantly guessing. Darrell went around the end for eleven yards. Black followed this up with an end run that made six more. Then Gardner was sent through the home team’s right wing for another six. Right on top of this, the revolving. formation again opened up a hole that let Black through for a run. Barron’s first run had been thrilling enough, -but it was not to be compared with this in the matter of dodging tacklers. First to one side and then to the other he darted. Nevertheless, he could not have suc- ceeded in getting through but for the fact that Flint was on hand to block off the last man who attempted 6 to tackle. This Dave did, and again the right half- back of the visiting team made a touchdown. “Well, wouldn’t that give you a cramp!’ muttered Chester Arlington. “Are they going to let that fellow play the whole game?” “He never could have made it that time but for that duffer, Flint,” asserted Shaw. “And Flint is his worst enemy,” put in Marsh. “Oh, they will be hugging and kissing after the game!” sneered Chester. “I'll wager my life that it is Merriwell’s trick to patch up peace with them.” In truth, Dick Merriwell was well satisfied with what was taking place. His keen eyes had noted every play, and he observed with gratification that in both instances Flint had done much to aid Black in secur- ing the touchdown. This time, however, Black was forced to kick from a difficult position and failed to put the ball over the bar. The score stood eleven to nothing in favor of the visiting team. Fardale was not satisfied ark this, for, at the first opportunity, she promptly resumed her ag ggressive playing. “They do not seem to need me on the team after all. They are doing just as well without me,” laughed Dick. “They are doing well enough while things are com- ing their way,” nodded Robinson. “The game seems to be all theirs. If Rivermouth were to brace up now, they would need you before the finish. But it is well enough to keep out of this game, unless you are com- pelled to go in. You will be in better condition for the next go, and that’s sure to be a tough one.” “Oh, I will not get in there while nas are run- ning this way!’ declared Dick. | Rivermouth finally secured the ball on downs, and again began hammering at Fardale’s line. She per- sisted in this style of playing so long that the cadets seemed to be taken by surprise when the ball was sud- denly sent.around the end. A Rivermouth man, hugging the oval under his oy arm, made a desperate run of it, and it was possible he might have scored had not Black overtaken him and tackled. Again Barron had covered. himself f with glory, and | the cheers he received were justly his due. There: was. a avabee | look on the face of Dave Flint i1P. TOP WEERLY, as he heard Black’s name shouted across the chalk- marked field by the cheering boys. “T can’t stand that!’ he muttered to himself. I can’t stand much more of it!’ The home team now braced amazingly and succeeded in holding the visitors where they were. Fardale persisted in her attempts until she lost the ball on downs. Several fierce scrimmages followed, ending at last in a kick by Rivermouth. Overman got the ball and attempted a run with it. He was promptly spotted by several of the home play- ers, and they closed in on him. Just as he was tackled, he managed to pass the ball to Gardner, who scooted onward. Four or five players piled up on Overman before Rivermouth realized that he was not still in possession of the ball. In this manner Gardner was given a fine opportunity, and he made good use of it, too. When he was brought to earth he had the ball within eight feet of Rivermouth’s goal line. Three fierce dashes “ followed, and before the pantherish work of the visi- tors the heavy home team were forced back. After the third scrimmage the ball was found to be down ex- actly four inches over the line, with Dave Flint holding it there. Another goal was kicked, carrying the score up to seventeen. . * During the four remaining minutes of playing in that half no further scoring was done. There was but one thing about the game to give Chester Arlington the slightest satisfaction. Merriwell was not in it, and the cadets were showing that ox could play foot- ball without him. “If only some one else besides Gardner and Flint could do a little scoring!” he growled. “All Fardale has seemed to think she could not get along without Merriwell.” “Black has made himself solid to-day,” declared Clint Shaw, the corners of his sour mouth GEOOPENE | more than ever. “And that chump, Flint, has managed to take a turn at it, too,” said Hector Marsh. “You will see Merriwell go into the game with the beginning of the second half,” prophesied Chester. “He is smart enough to realize that it is bad to stay - out of the game and let the other a do the fAnEY. i works*, i iat tatiana aia aces ij c J a : w et But Chester was mistaken. The second half began with Dick still near Robinson at the side of the field. The Fardale team seemed to feel that it had the game well in hand, and let up decidedly on its aggres- siveness. The one object now of the cadets seemed to be to hold their opponents and prevent them from scoring. This they were able to do for several min- utes at the beginning of the second half. Rivermouth, however, played with fresh determina- tion to fight to the last gasp. It was not long before she found that Fardale had let up somewhat,. and it seemed to give her fresh courage. Several changes had been made on the home team, and the most of these changes were for the better. The entire team worked like machinery and seemed to gain speed as the moments passed. Fardale was not alarmed when Rivermouth suc- ceeded in carrying the ball to the twenty-yard line, for this had happened earlier in the game, and the cadets had been able to check the advance of the enemy. This time, however, the home players continued to batter Fardale back and approach nearer and nearer to the goal. “TI believe they are going to score!”’ exclaimed Hec- tor Marsh. Chester Arlington shook his head. “T don’t think!” he averred. “They have been nearet than this and didn’t do it.” “But Fardale is weaker,” asserted Shaw. “You can see that. She is not playing nearly as well as on the first half.’ “She’s making it a defensive game,” said Chester. “T wouldn’t wonder if the boys had been coached to do so.” “It’s dangerous,” asserted Shaw.. “No team can afford to play that way unless it is absolutely certain she has the game won. Playing for practice can only be done with teams known to be much weaker. If Merriwell suggested such a thing, he is liable to wake up and find that he has made a big mistake. I think——»”’ Just what Shaw thought he never told, for at this moment there was a great shout from the crowd of spectators, and it was seen that Rivermouth had opened a hole in Fardale’s line. Assisted by interference of the first order, one of the Rivermouth backs now car- ried the ball over Fardale’s goal line, being hurled to the ground a second too late by one of the visiting players. TIP TOP WEEKLY. 7 The home team had scored at last. The Rivermouth cheer rolled across the field. Already Dick Merriwell had discovered that his players were not at their best. The team appeared to be weary or overconfident. Dick appealed to the coach. “What do you think, Mr. Robinson?’ he asked. “Do you think it best to put in some fresh men? Riv- ermouth’s changes have braced her wonderfully.” “T wouldn’t make any shifts at this juncture,” re- plied the coach. ‘That is, unless you go in yourself.” “Do you think I ought?” “You may have to.” “Have to? Why, I don’t imagine there is any danger of losing the game.” “T have known such things to occur.” “But the first half “The first half was all ours. You heard the boys talking during intermission. They seemed to imagine that there was no possibility of their being defeated. When players get such ideas into their heads, they. be- come careless. It was carelessness that permitted Rivermouth to open that hole just now.” Rivermouth’s goal gave her six points in all, and left her eleven points behind the opposing team. Fardale had a kick-off, and on receiving the ball, Rivermouth retained possession of it, declining to make a return kick. The change that had come over the home team was really astonishing. The Fardale players began to realize this at last, and finally Rivermouth was onto, the visitors getting the ball. Fardale now attempted a trick play. She seemed to try to open a hole in Rivermouth’s line; but this was a feint, fot the ball went to Black, who circled the end at high speed. It seemed that the trick would be advantageous to the visitors, for Rivermouth had been nicely fooled. Dave Flint ran with Barron Black as an interferer. Just as Black was rounding the end of the line, he went down as if he had been shot. From his position at the side of the field, Dick plainly saw Flint trip Black. Barron had been thrown heavily, and there was a slight delay. Immediately Capt. Metriwell ran out on the field, Those who saw him do so fancied he intended to take Black’s place. Dick went straight to Dave Flint. _“You may go, Flint!” he said, grimly. “Go?” muttered Dave, looking at him. “Yes, you are to play no more—in this game.” Without a word of remonstrance, his head drooping, the boy with the scar turned and walked off the field. It was apparent that he knew well enough why he had been sent out of the team. When Fardale next lined up there was general as- tonishment expressed because Dick Merriwell was at right tackle, instead of being in his usual position as half-back. ; ‘It is possible that Barron Black was surprised be- cause of this action on Dick’s part, but he said nothing. Few besides Merriwell and the big coach had seen Black tripped by Flint, and, for this reason, their won- derment because Dave was retired knew no end. Dick began talking to his men at once, and it was immediately seen that the whole team took on fresh life. From this time forward to the end of the game it was a bitter struggle. Rivermouth had tasted success, and she longed for more of it. Although Fardale could not score, she prevented the home team from doing so, and the game finally ended seventeen to six in favor of the cadets. After the game ended Merriwell looked in vain for Flint. Dave had shed his football clothes and had vanished. : Black attempted to say something to Dick about being tripped, but was immediately silenced by the captain of the team. “T should advise you to keep still about that,’ said Merriwell, in a.low tone. “Such things often happen by accident.” “But this was no accident!” declared Barron. “He did it intentionally.” You don’t know whether he did or not!” “T do know, Capt. Merriwell! He is my enemy.” _ “But I saw him aid you twice in making a touch- down. In the second instance, but for the beautiful work of Dave Flint you could not have succeeded.” This was gali and wormwood to Barron Black, for he keenly regretted that Flint had rendered him such assistance. He knew, however, that Capt. Merriwell spoke the «rth. Dick was certain that Dave would be on hand to take the train for Fardale with the rest of them, but, to his astonishment, this did not happen. The train pulled out without the boy with the scar. Apparently no one had seen Dave after he had left the field. ! TIP TOP WEEKLY. What had become of him! Knowing Flint’s disposition and pride, Dick was greatly worried over his vanishing. CHAPTER IV. THE SHADOWS THICKEN, Like one in a stupor, Dave Flint left the football field. Behind him he heard the cadets cheering Capt. Merriwell, but the sound had no meaning to him. Over and over he kept repeating to himself: “This ends it! This ends it!” He found himself on the dusty road that wound away from Rivermouth into the hilly distance. It is possible that he walked half a mile before quite com- ing to himself. Then he halted in the middle of the road, muttering: | “Where am I going in this rig? I look like a freak. I must have my other clothes.” Immediately he wheeled about and ran back along the road. In the dressing-room he literally tore off his football clothes and flung himself into his other suit. He seemed palpitating with the fear that some one would come and find him while thus occupied. “T must get away—lI must get away!” he whispered, hoarsely. “He shall not see me again!” Soon he was once more on-the highway, walking swiftly toward the hills, Rivermouth behind him. The stn was low in the west. The fields were sere and brown, and the wind that swept across them whispered of wintry days to come. Despite the shin- ing sun, there was a nipping coolness in the air. Dave’s eyes were fastened on the ground as he strode forward, and the expression on his face was set and grim. The long scar on his cheek seerned to stand out like a ridge. At Fardale he had been taught to walk erect with the precision,and style of the other cadets; but now his shoulders were hunched forward: and his gait strangely slouching. In a short time, it seemed, he had lapsed into his former careless manner. The clank-clank of a cow bell smote upon his ears, and he looked up to find a small boy, driving several cattle along the road. One glance Dave gave the boy, and then hurried on with that same slouching gait and gloomy air. | | The cowboy eyed him timidly, then paused and de- liberately edged off to one side of the road to let him © _ pass. The action of the boy seemed to indicate that he ' 5 f 1% a dy ‘ 7) ¥. pe y ‘a i e | TIP TOP WEEKLY. 9 was smitten by absolute dread of the ominous-appear- ing lad who was passing. When Flint had passed, the boy ran after the cows and hurried them a short distance. Finally he stopped in the middle of the road, turned about and stared after the retreating figure of the Fardale lad until it grew small and vanished along the winding road. “Jimminy!? muttered the boy. “Wo:der what he has been doing! Looked like he’d killed somebody! Booh! I'd hate to met him in the dark!” Then he whistled away after the loitering cows, seek- ing to revive his spirits with a merry tune. The hills closed about Flint. They arose on either hand, and the sun went down behind them. The shadows of the new night came creeping upward from the valleys, and in the heart of the desolate boy there was a shadow deeper and blacker than any of them. The voice of nature sung its evening anthem; but in Flint’s soul no responsive chord was touched. A wagon came rattling along the road, the feet of the horse attached to it beating a rythm. The man in the wagon saw the dark figure that advanced by the roadside, and he pulled up a little. “Howdy, young feller,” he called. My pipe is out.” . “Got a match? Dave did not even turn his face toward the person who had hailed him. Without slackening his pace, he pushed on. “Say, you, got a match?” cried the man in the wagon. “Whoa, Bill! Well, confound your hide! What ails him, anyway? Is he deaf?” The horse stood still, while the driver turned and watched until Flint had vanished in the gloom. Dave had no match, for he seldom found use for one. He did not wish to pass words with the man in the wagon. Finally he halted. For the first time, he began to wonder whither he was going. “I can’t go back to Fardale!” he said. “I can’t stay there with Black in the school! Dick will never trust me again! , What, made me trip Black? I don’t know! I don’t know! I couldn’t help it. I did it before I thought. I couldn’t bear to see him make ~ another successful run.” He sat down on a stone by the roadside, and, rest- ing his elbows on his knees, buried his face in his hands. For a long time he sat thus with growing bitterness, feeling that fate and all the world was against him. . “I don’t know why I was born!” he finally whis-, “T am no use to myself or to any one else. Who pered. I guess I am bound to turn out bad anyhow! will care? No one!” Of a sudden, he started bolt upright to his feet, and from his lips came two huskily whispered words: “Little Bull!’ He had thought of his brother, at last, and now he realized that there was one person in the world, at ieast, who would be filled with sorrow if any mis- fortune should come to him. “Oh, Billy, Billy!” he mutterd, chokingly. “You will be so disappointed in me! You have been so con- fident that I would come out all right. How can I tell you! How can I let you know that I have failed!’ A new problem now confronted him. For a long _time he pondered upon it, having again seated himself on the stone by the roadside. “T'll go to little Bill,” he finally decided. not far from here.” “He is Once more he tramped onward through the dark- ness. After a time the moon came up and shed its silvery light over wood and field, hill and vale. Little Billy Flint, who was attending a private school in Mayburg, with the intention of fitting himself to enter Fardale, had been asleep some hours when he awoke to find his brother by his bedside, with a lighted candle in his hand. The boy in the bed stared in astonishment and doubt. “Davy!” he whispered. “Davy, am 1 dreaming?” The big brother put the candle down on a little stand, and sat on the edge of the bed. “No, you’re not dreaming, Billy,” he answered. “‘It 31,” } Little Billy sat up instantly. “Dave, you here?’ he exclaimed, in the greatest wonderment. “Why, what has happened? You look so strange! Oh, Dave, what have you done? What has brought you here?’ “Don’t get excited, Billy,” as he could. “I thought I would come to see you. They let me in, and I came to your room.” In a moment little Billy was on his knees on the bed, and he had his arms about his brother’s neck. “Qh, Dave,” he said, “I am so glad to see you! I am awfully giad you came!” | The boy with the scar drew his little brother close to his heart and held him there. In that moment a great sob welled up in Dave Flint’s soul and threatetied to choke him. At last.it burst forth, . _ ¥ said Flint, as soothingly » : ‘10 TIP TOP WEEKLY. Instantly little Billy pushed himself off and tried to again look into his face. “Dave! Dave! I know something terrible has happened!” he palpitated. “Tell me what it is! Why should you come to me at such a time?” “T am going away, Billy,” said Dave, as gently as he could. “I wanted to see you before I went. That’s why I came.” “Going away? You going away, Dave? Why, what do you mean? What can you mean?” “T have left Fardale forever! I am never going back there any more.” The choking cry of astonishment that escaped little Bill's lips caused his big brother to shrink as if struck a blow. “Why are you going away, Dave?” questioned the younger boy. “I am sure I was right! Something has happened! I was dreaming of you when you came, and such a beautiful dream it was, too! I thought we were together at the school, and you were so glad be- cause, at last, I was straight like other boys.” “T am glad, Bill—how glad you cannot know. And you have Dick Merriwell to thank. It was his money that paid the doctor’s bill S “But uncle paid him, Dave,” interrupted little Bull, quickly. f “T know—lI know,’’ nodded Flint; “but that never would have happened had not Dick done so much for us in the first place. When uncle found out about it, he was ashamed and sent him the money. Uncle must be paid. I will pay every cent of it. I am going to work, Billy. I am going to do that now just as soon as I can.” “Going to work? But you can’t do that now with- out giving up all hope of finishing school, You have not told tne what happened, Dave. Please tell me f. Thus urged, Dave told his brother everything. “Tt’s no use to finish. I knew something of the kind would happen when Black came there to school. I tried to struggle against it; but 1 was not strong enough. Dick trusted me. He was sure I would be aman. I betrayed his trust! Now you see how it is, Billy. I can’t go back there and face him! He would neyer again have any confidence in me, and [ couldn’t stay in that school, thinking that Dick Merriwell doubted me. »He has been the bet friend I ever knew, Billy!” Again little Bill caught his brother about the neck and clung to him. “Oh, Dave, it is a shame!” he exclaimed. “But it was not such an awful thing, after all. You just think it was awful.” ; “You don’t understand, Billy—-you cannot under- stand,” declared Flint. “Why, I played traitor, and Dick Merriwell knows it! I did something to prevent my own team from gaining further points! It was the meanest, lowest thing a fellow could do! -lt was worse than stealing, Billy! It was a real crime! You don’t know how boys look at such things in school.” Still little Bill insisted that he didn’t believe it such a terrible thing. “T am sure Dick would forgive you,” he said. “Go back to him, Dave, and tell him how sorry you are.” Dave grimly shook his head. “T could never again look him in the face,” he de- clared. “It’s no use, Billy. I am disgraced at Far- dale, for he had to take me off the team. Hé would never trust me again. He would never let me play football any more. All the fellows at schoo! will know about it, for Black will tell them. They have little confidence in me, anyway, and after this they would think me a sneak and a traitor. I can’t stand much of that, Billy, from any of them. But just to know that Dick Merriwell thought so, too, would be more than I could endure.”’ “Where are you going?’ asked little Bill, hope- lessly. “What do you mean to do?’ “T don’t know now,” answered Flint. “I shall find something to do. I am going to work.” ; “But what is to become of me?”’ faltered the younger boy. “You will stay here, and you will enter Fardale as soon as you are prepared,” answered Dave. “Nol! no!” cried his brother. “I will never go there now! I couldn’t do it, Dave. I don’t care what be- comes of me, now!” ; Saying which, he flung himself downward on the bed and burst into tears. The anguish of his little brother touched Dave Flint as nothing else could have done. He bent over the boy’s shaking body and clasped his arms about it. “Ton’t--don’t,. Billy!” he entreated. “It isn’t as bad as that. Ll ought to go te work, anyway.” After a time, the boy sobbed: . “How do you think I can stay here doing nothing and knowing that you are working like a slave? I will go to work too, Dave—I will!” “You ?” 4 Se : e Prtnaiaiamea “6 a Pe ee ee = = — = ae TiP TOE. “Yes, I!” cried little Bill. “Why shouldn’t I? I can’t bear to. think of you working away day after day, when I know you ought to be in school and want to be there. I couldn’t bear to think of it while I was doing nothing here. I will go with you, Dave.” “You can’t do that,’ declared the elder brother, firmly. “Why can’t I?” “Because I will not let you. Billy !” “Yes, I. shall! Yes, I. shall!” excitedly insisted Billy. “You can’t stop me, Dave!” He had stopped crying now, and on his face there was a look of such determination that his brother was astounded and almost appalled. “What foolishness!” exclaimed Dave. you think you can do, anyway? earn your board.” “Well, that would be better than nothing.” “But your chances in the world would be ruined. What can a fellow do in these days without an educa- tion! He never can rise. He has no show. He must always remain a common plodder.”’ “But you are going to give up your education, Dave. Why should I be better off than you?” In vain Dave tried to argue with his brother. He found it impossible to move little Bill, and so he finally said: “Wait until morning. You will think differently of it then.” You shan’t do it, “What do You might barely “I will never change my mind,” persisted the deter- mined little chap. “Are you going to stay here, Dave? You must stay with me now. You're tired. You shall have part of my bed.” Fora long time the brothers lay murmuring to each other of other days and of their hopes and plans, which now seemed to be completely shattered. Finally little Bill fell asleep, with Dave’s arms beneath his head. There was little sleep for Dave Flint that night, The minutes dragged slowly into hours, and the hours seemed days. When at last he did sleep, it was only to dream sad things, which caused him to cry out brokenly in his slumber. “Dick,” he muttered, “Dick, Iam sorry! It is all over now—all over! Good-by, Dick! Good-by, Far- dale!” Then, after a long silence, he thickly exclaimed : “You did it, Black—you! Some day we will settle the score |” WEEKLY, CHAPTER VY. A RIFT. Sunday passed, and Dave Flint did not return to Fardale. Dick Merriwell seemed to be the only one who worried much about him. It had become gener- ally known that Flint had tripped Black in the game. There were those who immediately denounced Dave and declared that they had always felt sure he would do a thing like that. However, they took good care not to express themselves in Merriwell’s presence. Brad Buckhart well knew how troubled Dick was over Flint’s disappearance, and sought to reassure him. “It's no use getting a heap worked up over him, Dick,” he said. “I certain reckon he will show up all right in time.” “TI hope so,” said Dick. “But you don’t understand the fellow as well as I. He is liable to feel this thing so keenly that he will refuse to come back here.” “Oh, come off, pard! Dave Flint isn’t as thin- skinned as that.” “That’s where you fail to understand him, Brad. Flint has one of the most sensitive natures it has ever been my fortune to encounter.” “Well, I allow he don’t look it,” half laughed the Texan. “You'd think the galoot as thick-skinned as a toad.” “That’s where fellows entirely misunderstand him,” asserted Merriwell. “Don’t you remember when he ran away from school once? I had to bring him back. If I knew WHEY: to find him, I would go and bring him back now.’ “Partner, you sure take a heap of interest in him. Not many chaps would do for him what you have done.” “He has the making of a man in him, Brad; and-he needs friendship and encouragement.” “Well, the boys don’t think a whole lot of him since he played that trick on Black. You must admit that was right dirty.” “You know his story, Buckhart. I told it to you. You know why he hates Barron Black. Try to put yourself in his place.” “I am not a whole lot struck on Black, myself, pard,” confessed the Westerner. “It’s not that. What stuck in my craw is that any galoot could do a thing like that in a football game. What if Rivermouth had won that game! Say, pard, Dave Flint’s name would be Mud here at the academy. You hear me shout |” . - at the school. | you to thank for it, too. { Vd ”? 12 TIP TOP “But Rivermouth did not win.” “Because you jumped into the game just when you did, Dick,” asserted Brad. ‘“‘That’s what held her right where she was. Those chaps were out a-plenty for that game in the last half.” Dick nodded. “They took a big brace,’ he declared. “It was a hard fight to hold them down after they scored.” “Well, it’s a sure thing that both Flint and Black cannot play on the team. One of those galoots must get off. You hear me chirp! They will never pull to- gether.” “Perhaps you're right,” confessed Dick. “But there’s time enough to settle that matter after we find out what has become of Flint. If he is not here to- morrow morning, I shall ask leave to go in search of him,” On Monday morning, however, Dave Flint appeared He was accompanied by little Bill, and went directly to his room. Word had been brought to Dick of Flint’s return when little Bill rapped on his door. The thin face of the boy was very pale as he entered Merriwell’s room. “Hello, Billy Flint!’ cried Dick, in cheerful sur- prise. “Bless my soul! I am glad to see you.” He shook little Bill’s hand warmly, and his hearti- ness brought a bit of color to the boy’s cheeks. Sit down, sit down,” said Dick, as he pushed the lad into a chair. ‘Well, say, you're looking fine. You're improving right along, aren’t you?” “Yes, sir,’ nodded the little chap; ‘and I have got If it hadn’t been for you “There, there, enough of that! So Dave wanted to see you after the game with Rivermouth, did he? We'd just begun to wonder what had become of him. I am glad he showed up just in time to stop our wor- rying about him.” “But he is going away, Mr. Merriwell,” said Billy, in a low tone. “Going away?” exclaimed Dick, “What do you mean by that? Where is he going?” “He is going to leave school.” “What are you talking about! leave Fardale?” “He says he is. He has returned for his clothes and He is not going to things. He is packing up in his room now.” “Well, he must be daffy!” cried Merriwell. “What WEEKLY. ails him, Billy? He is not going away from here. We won't let him.” “Then you must stop him quick! him quick!” palpitated the little chap. if you wouldn’t try it. I can’t stop him. I have done my best. Oh, Dick! he is so ashamed of himself! He thinks he°can never look you in the face again.” You must stop “T came to see “Well, now, if that isn’t foolishness!” burst from Dick. “But he did an awfully mean thing in the game Sat- urday. He told me all about it. Still I know he didn’t think just what he was doing. He was excited. He says you will never have any more confidence in him.” “Then he certainly is crazy,” Dick half laughed. “T’ll just have to have a talk with him, Billy. Come on!” Together they hurried to Dave’s room, where they found him’ packing in feverish haste. He gave one glance at Dick, then turned his back, his face crimson. ‘Hello, Dave, old man!’ Merriwell cheerfully ex- claimed, as he walked forward and slapped the other on the shoulder. “I am glad you brought little Billy around to see me. But what the dickens are you up to here?’ | “Packing,” muttered Flint. “Packing? What for?” “Going away.” “Where?” “IT don’t know. Anywhere.” “You look here, Dave Flint, you are going to do nothing of the sort! Get that foolish idea out of your head in a hurry. I didn’t know but little Billy was joking when he said you were going.” “It’s no joke,” almost sullenly asserted Flint, “Take off your coat!” exclaimed Dick. ‘Take it off !”’ “Why, what Ps - “I am going to give you the worst licking you ever had, and I am going to give it to you in a hurry!” The boy with the scar cast a furtive glance at Mer- riwell. To his surprise he saw that Dick» seemed to be in deadly earnest. Little Bill looked on in doubt and bewilderment. “Why don’t you shed your coat?” cried Dick. “I will thrash you with it on, if I have to.” “T deserve it!’ muttered Dave. ‘Go ahead,” “Look here, Dave Flint, you’re not going to be a [Oe i a ea Or ee en se ee pein te spa ety és, eter became i ee Te beiastehat > hort Gaenneeee Se * al y A ih chump. Ill tell you that now, and I mean it. You won't leave Fardale. I won’t let you.” “I can’t stay here, Dick!’ hoarsely declared the hu- militated lad. “You must understand that well enough. I have got to leave this school. You saw what I did. You'd never trust me again.” Dick seized Dave by the shoulders and forced him down upon a chair, standing over him. “Well, if you ain’t a big baby!”’ he exclaimed, shak- ing his finger in Flint’s face. “What was this awful thing you did, anyway? Why, it’s lucky for Black that you didn’t do something that really amounted to something. Dave, you are making a mountain out of a molehill. Trust you? Old man, I would trust you with my life! Don’t get such crazy notions into your noddle.” “But everybody knows,” said Flint. “That’s foolishness, too. Accidents like that often happen in football games.” “But it was not an accident, Dick Merriwell. I did it intentionally.” “Well, you just keep still about it, and everybody else will forget it in a week. You will more than make up for that in the next game. You will set yourself right with the crowd, and I know it.” “The next game!” huskily cried Flint. “Would you let me play again?” “Well, if I don’t chuck you back into the line in your old position in the very next game you can kick me,” asserted Dick. “You bet you will play in the next game! We can’t get along without you. If you are going to play this sort of a mean game on us, by getting out and leaving a hole in the line, you will find that we won’t stand for it, Dave Flint.” Dave stared hard at Dick’s face for a moment, and then bent and covered his eyes with his hands. He sat in this attitude, without uttering a word or mak- ing a movement, for some moments. Little Bill was delighted and excited. He realized that Dick had already won the victory, “T told you, Dave! I told you!” he panted.. “You wouldn't believe me. You will believe it now, I guess! I knew Dick wouldn’t go back on you.” “Go back on him!” laughed Dick. “Why, if I’d never done a worse thing than that I would be mighty proud of myself. We're all human, Dave. We couldn’t get along with a fellow that was perfect. He'd be too good to mingle in our society.” Tir TOP WEEKLY. 13 Finally Dave arose to his feet and stood before Capt. Merriwell. “Dick,” he said, huskily, in a low tone, “you surely are the finest friend any fellow ever had in all this world! I don’t know what would have become of me but for you. If I ever amount to anything, you will be responsible for it.” “That’s enough of that kind of talk, old man!” cried Merriwell. “It’s all settled now. You have given up this foolish idea of going away?” “Yes, I will stay, Dick—I will stay because you want me to. If I play on the team again, you will have no cause to be ashamed of me or doubt me. I promise you that.”’ “Oh,” eried little’ Billy, dancing around them, joy- ously, “I knew Dick would fix it—I knew he would!’ CHAPTER .VI. CLOUDS CLOSE IN. Dave Flint kept much by himself after his return to Fardale. This was natural enough, and it created no comment. Dick, however, found one or two oppor- tunities to be seen in Flint’s company. Arlington’s set had fancied that there would be an open rupture be- tween Flint and Merriwell, and they were greatly dis- appointed because this had not come about. Chester seemed to have chosen Shaw as his par- ticular chum, and they were much together when it was possible for them to be. Black had been warned by Dick to say little about the affair at Rivermouth, and so he became surpris- ingly silent when questioned. If he had fancied that Flint’s action would make an enemy of Capt. Merri- well, he must have been disappointed by the result. At football practice Flint resumed his old position. No one save Dick and himself knew how much it cost him to appear on the field the first day of practice after the Rivermouth game. . Shaw and Arlington were on hand to witness the work of the team. Both were amazed when Flint once more took up his place in the line. “Hanged, if that isn’t a queer thing!’ cried Chester. “T surely thought Merriwell would put him.on the shelf. This business is not panning out the way I anticipated.” “Not by a long shot!” nodded Shaw. “I counted on a lot of trouble between Flint and Black. Why, I even fancied that Merriwell would have to kick both of them 14 TIP TOP WEEKLY. off the team. What's he going to do with Black, anyhow? He has got plenty of regular backs, and he can’t play Black unless he lays somebody off.” “We ought to be able to kick up a little muss over it ‘ somehow, Clint,” said Chet. “It is about the only show we've got to make trouble on the team. It won't do to let the thing drop.” “What can we do?” questioned Shaw. “Oh, we will find something to do. You leave that to me. I would like to soak this fellow, Black, .eyen more than I would Flint.” “The proper thing is to get at them both,” Clint, sourly. During the practice Black was tried on both the scrub and regular team. Capt. Merriwell made sev- eral such changes, and, therefore, Barron could not complain. Other fellows who had played with the regulars were shifted to the scrub, while BHOSLE filled their places. Arlington and Shaw noted this, and it was Clint that met Black shortly after he left the gym. that evening. There was a sneering smile on Shaw’s yellow face as he said: “So you're a kind of a jumping-jack, are you? You let them chuck you around just as they have a mind to, I see.” Barron did not fancy the fellow’s manner. “It is none of your business!” he warmly retorted. “Oh, possibly not; but then, I’ve got a pair of eyes, and I can see.” “Well, you’d better hold your tongue and keep away from me! I have had about all the dealings with you that I care to have!” “You're a mighty fine fellow, aren’t you!’ sar- castically exclaimed Shaw. “You think you are the real thing, just because you happened to play on the team once. Wait a while, Mr. Black, and see where you will land. You’re not on the team for good, and don’t you forget that.’’ “How do you happen to know so much?’ “Oh, I know. You thought Dick Merriwell would drop Dave Flint, did you? Well, I fancy you have chuckled | changed your mind now. You see he has chucked _ Flint right back. And he will keep him there, too. How do you like that? Perhaps Flint will get an- other chance at you in the next game.” - “Well, we can settle our own affairs without any aes, interference from you!” exclaimed Black, as he pushed | hos past Shaw and strode onward. “You think you can,” muttered Clint; “but we are going to interfere a little. Before the next game comes around, we will fix you so you will refuse to play on the team with Flint.” The following evening Black obtained permission to go to the village for his mail. The moon was rising as he reached the small grove near Farmer Snodd’s. The shadows were deep where the road ran through this grove, but at intervals the moonlight sifted down among the trees and made brilliantly lighted patches on the highway. Barron was walking swiftly when from behind a tree near the road suddenly sprang a dark figure. The unsuspecting boy: saw this figure when it was too late. He attempted to dodge, but something whizzed through the air and struck him heavily on the head. He was hurled senseless to the road, his head and shoulders falling in the moonlight. To Black it seemed that barely had he been knocked down in this manner when he opened his eyes and found some one bending over him. “Ts he dead ?”? muttered a voice that he recognized. “Not yet, you whelp!” whispered Barron, as he attempted to roll away. It was Dave Flint who was bending over him, and in Flint’s hand was a heavy club. Satisfied that Dave meant to murder him, Barron lifted his voice and shouted for assistance. “Help!” he cried. “Help! Murder!” Flint stepped toward him. “Keep off, you dog!” panted Black. Then he heard the sound of running feet on the road, coming from the direction of the village. A moment later three boys rushed up and halted. They were Dick Merriwell, Brad Buckhart and Chip Jol- liby, who had also been in town and were now return- ing to the academy. “What’s this?” exclaimed Dick, staring in astonish- ment at the prostrate boy and then at the other lad, in whose hand a heavy club was grasped. “It sure looks like as though something had been doing here a whole lot,” said Brad. | “That’s pup-pup-pup-plain as the nose on your fuf- fuf-fuf-face,” chattered Jolliby. Instantly Dick placed himself between Black, who was sitting up in the dust, and Flint, who seemed hesi- tating and irresolute. “What’s happened ?” he again demanded. “What were yout doing, Dave?” sue PGEGES OS moet _ =e peuals, ies shes” “He tried to murder me!’ pated Black. “He jumped out at me and hit me with that club. See here; it’s cut my head! I am bleeding!” He had been feeling of his head, aid the moonlight showed that his hands were covered with blood. “Well, this sure seems like a genuine Western hold up,” said Buckhart. “Great gug-sug-gug-ginger!” stuttered Jolliby “Black must have got a gug- gug-sug-good crack on the koko!” Then he grasped Barron by the shoulders and aided him to his feet. Black was weak and limp, and leaned heavily agaitist Chip. “He came mighty near breakitig my skull!’ said Barron. “And he never gave me a ghost of 4 show. He just soaked me quicker than a flash.” Dick was bewildered and astonished. He cotld not believe it possible that Dave had made stich a dastardly attack upon his énemy, yet before his eyes was the evi- dence. His anger threatened to get the best of him. “What do you mean by such a piece of work, Flint?” he demanded. “Tt wasrit I,” assérted Flint. “I never touched hirn.” | “That is a lie—a dirty lie!” cried Barton, as fiercely as he could. “He did it, and le cati’t deny it.” “Well, it certain looks as if Black is right in this case,” muttéred Btickhart. Black continued to lean weakly against Jolliby, who grasped atid supported him. Plainly he had been robbed of his strength by the savage blow on the head. “Did you sus-sus-sus-see him before he sus-sus-sus- truck you?’ aked Jolliby. “Just catight a glimpse of him, that’s all,” answered Barron. “He leaped out from behind a tree.” “Then you are not dead sus-sus-sus-sure that he was the one who hit you?’ asked Chip, seeming eagerly to grasp at the possibility of a mistake. “But I am dead sure!” exclaimed the injured boy. “Why, there can be no doubt of it! Who else could have done it? There was no one else here. You saw him=+you saw him bending over mé with the club in his hand. He meant to hit me again, and he would have done it if you had not come up. I believe he would have beaten my brains out! I tell you that fel- low comes from a bad family.” , “Tt_certain.is a sure thing that Flint gave him a , rap!” growled Brad, although he seemed to be making the corifession with visa TIP TOP WEEKLY. 15 Flint stood still and grim in a patch of moonlight that came down through the trees, The moon was at his back and his face in the shadow, yet his eyes seemed to gleam. | | “Tt know you won’t believe me,” he said, in an agi- tated tone; “but I tell you the truth when I say some one ran away and disappeared in the woods. It was not I who hit him!” The Texan shook his head. “T reckon Flint is in for it this time,” he muttered. “He can’t squeak out of it that way. Tripping a man in a football game to keep him from making a gain is bad enough, but trying to murder him like this is the limit.” Buckhart had never trusted Flint as completely as had Dick. Ofteti he had wondered at Merriwell’s confidence in the boy with the scarred face. Dick suddenly grasped Flint by the shoulder and turned him about so his face was in the moonlight. “Speak the truth, man,” he commanded, looking straight into Dave’s eyes. “It is the only thing you can-do.” | “T have told you the truth!” returned the suspected lad, defiantly. “I know you will not believe me. I know everything seerns against me. I didn’t hit him!” For some moments Dick stood quite still, looking straight into the eyes that met his unwaveringly. At first he had fancied that there was no doubt of Flint’s guilt, but now within him grew the hope that the dastardly act had not béen committed by Dave. “Vou can’t believe his lies, Mérriwell!’’ exclaimed Black, still leaning against Jolliby. “Of course he will deny it; but you have seen enough to know that there is no chance for him to squeak out of it.” “Take care of Black, Jolliby, you and Brad,” di- rected Dick. “Help him get back to the academy. I have a few things to say to Flint.” “You ¢an’t stick by him, now!” exclaimed Barron. “Tf you do, ~ are a different sort of a fellow than I took you to be.” To this Dick made no retort. He coldiy commanded Dave to accompany him. In silence they strode away toward the academy, with Chip, Brad and Black slowly following at a distafice. Flint’s head was hanging riow, ahd his eyes fastened — on the ground. His appearance was one of hopeless despair. Everything seemed against him. At last | he was ni oe and there seetned no escape from the snare. 16 TIP: POP They left the grove and followed the road down the hill toward the academy buildings, which arose white and beautiful in the clear moonlight. — Of a sudden, the boy with the scar broke forth wildly : “T shouldn’t have come back! I knew it was a big mistake! You can see that I should have stayed away from here! Now I will have to get out, or be accused of trying to murder that fellow! Let me go, Dick! Let me go at once!” “You will stay and face it out!” retorted Merriwell, firmly. “It is the only thing you can do.” “What’s the use! What’s the use!” cried Dave. “They will prove it against me! -His father tried to send me to the reform school, now he will send me to prison! I won’t go, Dick! I will kill myself first?’ “Don’t talk like a fool, Dave Flint!’ “Why, even you have lost confidence in me at last!” groaned the agonized boy. “That is worse than every- thing else!’ - “But I haven't lost confidence in you, Dave,” assured Dick. | “You cannot mean that you believe I didn’t attack Black ?” 7 “You told me that you did not. known you to lie to me, Flint. I don’t believe you lied then.” It seemed a wonderful thing to the boy with the scar that Merriwell could still have a particle of faith in him. Had Dick denounced him, had he turned from him in scorn and contempt, Flint would have believed him justified. But still through all this, in spite of the damnable evidence, Dick protested unshaken faith in the unfortunate lad’s innocence. “Oh, Dick! Dick!” huskily exclaimed Dave. “You are a friend through thick and thin! But what can I do? They will prove it against me!” is “I don’t know now what you will do,” confessed Merriwell. .n -I have never get you out of this scrape. Promise me that you will face it through to the end—promise me, Dave.” “All right,” said Flint; “Dll promise. No matter what comes, I will face it, knowing shat you are my | friend.” | WEEKLY, “But you must stand by your guns. and | _ protest your innocence. Something may turn up to CHAPTER VIL. GREAT GAME STARTS. Jolliby tied a handkerchief about Black’s head and picked up his cap, which had been crushed and torn © by the savage blow. Together Chip and Brad aided the injured lad along the road. Black was muttering to himself, repeating over and over a vow to square up with Dave Flint. “What are you going to dud-dud-dud-do?” ques- tioned Chip. “Are you going to report him to the head professor ?” “No!” almost shouted Black; “I will fix him my- self! I will do it with my own hands! That's the way I will settle with him!” | “Well, that certain is a proper caper,” said Buck- hart. “But you can have him chucked out of Fardale in a hurry, if you make a peep about this business.” “Little he would care for that!’? sneered Barron. “He is too thick-skinned to feel disgrace in case he should be expelled. That wouldn’t hurt him enough.” “Out in my country,” said the Texan, “when a ga- loot is injured by another, he buckles on his guns and - takes to the war path. I certain admire that LAs of | doing business.” “But it is dud-dud-dud-different here in the East, pn chattered Jolliby. “A chuh-chuh-chuh-chap who does a thing like that is liable to get into a heap of trouble.” “T will look out for that!” grated Black, “Just : you fellows keep still about this business, that’s all I want. I have an old score to settle with that fellow, anyhow.” In his room that night Black bathed his wound and bound it up as best he could: It was not a long cut, nor was it very deep, and, therefore, he was able to do this quite well. True to his word, he said nothing about the affair on: the following day. To those who questioned him, be- cause he was wearing a bandage around his head, he. vaguely answered that he had been injured by acci- dent. What sort of an accident it was he did not say. Three. boys, Merriwell, Buckhart’ and Jolliby, watched with no small anxiety. to see what would. come of the affair. Flint was more than surprised that. his enemy failed to report the occurrence and make an accusation against him... Still Dave was not deceived into be-' ~ lieving that Black. was disposed to. let it drop. Day after ae the two boys eee together on = Santee omen risen a e% ne i it Se at '?- aw. a ty “ be BAD a wit te A cp gee i Ie i ao ae wa wo eae ee. - TIP TOP the football field. But they exchanged no words, al- though occasionally their eyes met in deadly hatred. The time for the game with Springvale came around at last. The game was to be played in Fardale. Saturday opened dull and cloudy, with a threatening storm. The wind that came off the sea mourned ominously about the academy buildings. The weather reports stated that a storm was approaching from the south. This storm had not arrived when the hour came for the game to begin. Springvale was on hand. — The threatening weather prevented the usual large turnout of spectators to witness the contest. Of course, the cadets from the academy were on hand in a body, and the visitors had a small delegation of rooters. Before the game Dick consulted with Robinson, the coach. “I have got to make some changes on the team, Mr. Robinson,” he said. “Gardner is not in first-class condition. Of course he might play, as he is not ab- solutely sick; but I think it will be best to leave him out of the game.” “He is a good man at quarter,” said the coach. “And this year that position is more important than ever. Who will you place there?” “Tam going to fill that position, myself.” “Vou: ”? ii. 4 a “With Black in your regular position?” “No: I have decided to shift Darrell over to the right side. I shall try Black opposite.” “Why do you make that sort of a change?” asked Robinson, shaking his head. “It is poor policy to shift men about on the team, after they have become accustomed to certain positions and seem thoroughly fitted for them.” PAG te “T know it,’ confessed the captain; “but I have an excellent reason for doing it. There is bad blood be- ' tween Flint and Black. With Black playing behind Flint, I believe there would be more chances of a mixup between them.” “I don’t know about that,” declared Robinson. “The half-backs cross often in trying to forward the ball. If there is going to be a clash between those fellows, you'd better leave one of them out of the WEEKLY. 17 “I have thought the matter all over,” asserted Dick, “and I am determined to play them both.” “All right,” nodded the coach. “You’re running things.” Black was a little surprised when he learned that he had been shifted over. Instantly he understood the cause of it, and to himself he muttered: “Tt won’t make any difference. I will get my chance, just the same. If I do I will break Dave Flint’s neck to-day! It will be an accident, too, so far as any one else can tell.” The teams lined up as follows: FARDALE SPRINGVALE, IQUDY ois dokn sis bev s bee bad k a MG. Sheet be cates iayatsdiat Thoms Pitat si bs he ntbhoucewe Ragit: TAOS “occ pedcbwnendners Gamble PRG IARS ‘0g sonia ean» Regis NT as cae eer Ae Murch LOBDR: | oias esas, bh baea ere COter S Ta ein eo vats Ss Barrows Singleton: .\leviseiwds ese RiGES tint? ii ike cid cws wie) Uncas PAPE 2 ov iu uk dk cowie’ PAPE TACO. ois so ee ates Meyers TAME OS |. is bbs dos ss ec a EON OHO. ss abe cdc a ueee eke Dodge TARTEEWLE Sac ok oo cu aKew Quarter-back ............-.--looper AISETOUY Sod oSS be atae Rught- dial back sus. eae we Bristol TAMAR Ts xs oie Gig eo Die ew Lett RaltDack: |