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FOR THE AMERICAN YOUTH

 

   
   

Issued Weekly. By subscription $2.50 per year. Entered as Second-class Matter at the N. Y. Post Office, by STREET & SMITH, 79-59 Seventh Ave, NV. ¥.

NEW YORK, DECEMBER 15, 1906. Price, Five Cents

  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The building resounded with wi!d cheers for Coldwall of Harvard. The race seemed settled. Not
one in a hundred dreamed: Merriwell had the slightest chance to close the gap.

 
 
 

 

 

 

 

 

oii.

 

 

 

 

 

Issued Weekly. By subscription $2.50 per year.

Entered as Second-class Matter at the N. Y. Post Office, by STREET & SMITH, 79-5 Seventh Avenue, :
N.Y. &ntered according to Act of Congress in the year 1906, in thé Office of the Librarian of Congress, Washington, DEC:

  
 

 

Wo. 557.

Pe

etnyene:

‘Be | CHAPTER I.

ROAD.

 

ON THE

Clear, crisp, cold December weather—the sort of
weather that makes the blood of youth leap and tin-
gle. Winter had threatened impotently with a few

passing snow flurries, but as yet the only sign of
|. real genuine settled winter was to be seen on the ice-
_|. bound surfaces of lakes and ponds. True, the trees
| were bare, and the brown leaves drifted in windows
by the roadside and through the forests, yet at midday
| _-when the sun was high one might have fancied spring
Fy mot far off.

With his thin cheeks glowing and his step brisk,
_ Blessed Jones flung open the door of his room and
entered. He stopped short and stared at Dick Merri-
well, who was standing in the middle of the room,
stripped of coat, vest, collar, and necktie, lightly
swinging a pair of Indian clubs.

“There is no rest for the weary,” droned Jones.
eae: “You ve got it again. It’s commencing to seethe.
It’s commencing to bubble. It’s threatening to ex-
fl _ plode. Yea, verily, even so.”

 

 

 

NEW YORK, December 15, 1906.

Dick Merriwell’s Running

| THE PEET AT PIECHANICS’ HALL.

 

pa By BURT L. STANDISH.

 

    
    
  
  
  
   
  
  
   
  
   
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  
   
 

Price Five Cents.

Smilingly Dick paused in his exercises.

“What’s the matter, old man?” he queried. “Just
at present, by your appearance, [ should say you
ought to be able to beat that clever poker-sharp, Du
Boise. You have a royal flush. What’s the matter
with you, Jones?”

“T’m all right. But why all this agitation on your
part? I thought you were going to take things easy
for awhile.”

“T have been, haven’t I?” 5

“Ves—oh, yes, plugging like a fiend. You've been —
taking things easy—I don’t think! And now I see
signs—threatening signs. You bade athletics and
the strenuous life farewell until the merry, merry
springtime, but here I find you waving a couple of
war-clubs, and methinks there’s fire in your eye.
What are you trying to do?” 1

“Keep in condition.”

“Oh-ho! Going into training again?” a

“No. Simply going to keep’ from slumping.
feel that I’ve had a thorough rest, and unless I take
proper éxercise and precautions I’ll fall back and get
wholly out of condition.”

    
 

  
  

    
 

2 | TIP. TOP

Jones sat. down.
‘What's the use to keep in condition unless you re
going in for the strenuous?” he questioned.

“Every man, irrespective of age, should keep him-

self constantly in condition. By that I do not mean
he should always be keyed up to his finest point. [
mean he should do enough systematic work to hold
himself in trim so that the smallest amount of train-
‘ing will fit him for almost any task. The: trouble
with a great many athletes is that they’re irregular
-and spasmodic in their work. They have no system.
This applies to amateurs and professionals alike.. With
any great event in view—anything that will test them
severely, they set about training and usually work
hard at it.. Now you know,-old man, that a fellow
who has. loafed and relaxed and allowed his muscles
to get flabby and his system to get clogged and has
taken on superfluous flesh finds it harder.to fit himself
than a man who exercises systematically and regu-
larly and keeps himself from falling back beyond the
point in which he is really in condition to tackle al-
Lots of fellows who go in for ath-
_ letics make either one or the other mistake. They
_ keep themselves keyed up.to a fine point all the time
and break down or go stale, or else they work spas-
modically and get on the bum when they are lazy be-
_ tween times. When I told you that I proposed to
_rest I didn’t mean I was going to play. lazy until it
was time to get into. gear for baseball. For awhile
I have rested absolutely, and it’s done me good. Now
I feel the need of work—not brainwork, but body
work. I also feel the need of outdoor work. Look-
ing out of the window at this sunshine makes me
want to hit the pike. It makes me want to leap, run,
get away into the country, fill my lungs and purify
my blood.”
~ “Oh, you must have a ict of rotten poor: blood in
your veins,” said Jones sarcastically. “There's
a blotch or a pimple on you. You're clear-skinned,
clear-eyed, and heathy from toes to topknot.”

' most ‘anything.

 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
   
 
   
   
   
    
    
    
  
  
        
          
      
        
   

  

 
 

 
 

  

 
 

“Well, the way for me to keep so is to take proper
precautions. Although I have been lying around of
ate, my appetite hasn’t let up. I’m eating just the
same. What am I doing to get rid of the clogging
_ poisons produced on a lazy parson by an overloaded
stomach ?” bi |
“Haw!” snorted Blessed. “Next thing you'll be
nto basket-ball or hockey. You let up. Y ou’re
built as Mv 1 See ae

 
 

 
 

S Mot’,

WEEKLY.

of running-shoes, and other articles of wearing-ap-

parel. :
“Now what?” demanded Jones. “ ‘Lo and behold,
a sign hath been given unto us.’”

“Swinging clubs or juggling dumbells, even with

_ the window open like that, is not equal to a good

brisk outdoor run. I hear the call of the wild, Blessed.
Better come along. It will do you good. MHere’s
your outfit. Want it?’

“But I’m no runner. You might get me out into
the country and then trot away from me without
half-trying.” ae

“No danger of that,” laughed Dick. “We'll take

it easy, old man. Coming?” |
“Sure. I’m beginning to feel the fever a little my-
self, Dick.”

In a short time they were dressed in running-

clothes, and with their spiked shoes in hand they

slipped down-stairs, pausing outside on the front steps
to pull on those shoes. Each wore a sweater, but
neither bothered with a cap. Bareheaded and ready

for the road, they started at a slow, easy jog, Dick —

choosing the course.
“They'll think we’re going into training for the
track-team,’’ said Jones.
stand why you didn’t go in for it, Dick.”
“Because I had enough to do.
needed.” |
“Don’t know about that,” retorted Blessed, as te
awkwardly ambled along at Merriwell’s side.

T’ve béen looking the men over.

\

ears.’

bumped some at the B. A. A. meet in Boston. They
say Harvard has developed one of the fastest relay
teams in years.
hard runner, with plenty of wind and speed.”

“What's the matter with our men?”

“Oh, Roberts, the captain of the team is a a dandy

—every one knows that.” ,
“How about Perry?”
“Well, there are no flies on him.”
“Gray! ?? : j ;

erts.”” ;
By (Fae

x
Nig

“By ‘the way, I don’t under- -

Besides, I’m not

Ti cance
put my finger on a lot of weak spots in the track-team. _ ksh
I’ve been watching
on = work. Iam born to prophecy. Lend me your A

“Strikes me you have ears enough of your own.” |
“By that I suppose you mean I’m braying. Never- _
theless, I say unto you that Yale is going to get

 

Every man on it is a good, tough, oe

rbretty good man. but not, quite as good as Rob- |

NTee ee ee nae ae

Ee ep ee ee

SS.

|
‘
}
ey
By

 

 

 

 
        
   
 
  
   
   
  
   
    
  
  
  
  
    
       
     
     
      
      
       
         
      
       
 
   
  
       
     

  

Sankar

 

“Now we're coming down to the weak spots. Joyce
is close to n. g.”
“Why, he runs in fine form, and he made a quar-
ter-mile record in a private test last week.”
“He did,” admitted Jones, “but he’s a quitter. He’s
_ the kind of fellow that can go out and run like blazes
when timed for a record, but he'll lose his sand if
pitted against another man who is just as good as he

a is or a shade better. See if I’m not right, Dick.”

See eae

we ae

: | “Well, I’m afraid you are,” admitted Merriwell.
t= “I’ve sized Joyce up a little that way myself. Still,
4, __ | hope I’m wrong.”

_ | 70 hope ‘So, ‘too.”’

, “There’s Linscomb ?”

-_ “A man with more sand than Joyce, but his form

a is bad. Roberts and the trainers haven’t been able to
break him of that cross-arm swing. We're liable to
overtake some of the runners out this way.”
“We won’t overtake them at this rate,”
Dick. “They may overtake us, though.”
At times they jogged along without talking, gradu-
ally feeling their blood warm up. Jones grumbled
a little about his sweater, but Dick advised him to
keep it on.
“This is better than a Turkish bath, old man,” said
-Merriwell. “When we get back a shower and a good
rub will make us feel like fighting-cocks.”
They finally left the outskirts of the city behind
and jogged away into the brown open lands.

_ Merriwell’s ear detected a sound behind them, and,
glancing back, he laughingly observed:

laughed

“They are coming, Blessed? I said they’d be liable
to overtake us.”

ee

© Jones looked round and discovered several lads in
-running-clothes stringing out along the highway.

_ suggested. “We haven't exerted ourselves any yet.”

_ “Time enough for that when we face back toward

home.”

liable to give us the laugh, when they go by.”
“Never mind that. You know we’re not supposed
to cover ground like those famous runners.”
“Pll bet anything you can trim every one of them
in a forty-yard dash or a mile run.”
“T don’t know about that.”
eet Ido,”

_ plainer, and soon Linscomb and Joyce forged up be-
_ side Merriwell and Jones. Joyce was thin and rangey,

TOP WEEKLY. 3

“Hadn't we better put on a little more steam?” See

“There’s Joyce and Linscomb leading. They'll be

out with the bunch, did you?”

In a few moments the sound of running feet became

with high cheek-bones and eyes set close together. He
regarded Dick and Blessed with a grin as he cried:

“Hello, hello, what’s this, a funeral procession?”

“Why don’t you-fellows hire an ice-cart if you're
in a hurry?” inquired Linscomb.

“That’s a cold and cruel question,” said Dick.

“What are you training for, Merriwell?’ asked
Joyce. “Getting into trim for a hoopskirt-race?”

“Why don’t you turn round and go backward?”
asked Linscomb. “You'd make better time crabbing
ie.

Jones was inclined to resent these remarks.
emnly he quoted:

“Tn those days there arose fools who thought
themselves exceeding wise, and the clacking of their
tongues annoyed the people greatly.’ Jeremiah, ump-_
steenth, oxteenth.”’

As the two runners passed on Joyce flung over his
shoulder :

“Better turn round_if you expect to get back to
town in time for the holidays.”

“Now, I like that fellow—I like him!” grated Jones.
“It would give me great pleasure to kick him.”

“Possibly your dislike for him had Sores to.
do with your opinion of his ability as a runner,” sug-
gested Dick.

“Perhaps so,’ admitted Jones, “but I don’t believe
it. Oh, he gets over the ground like a fox. Just look
at him. Just compare his stride and the way he car-
ries his arms with Linscomb. Linscomb uses up twice
or three times as much energy as Joyce. He’s made
himself what he is as a runner against natural diffi
culties and failings. Joyce had little to contend with.”

“Sol-

       

Other runners came up and passed them. Some ~
were inclined to guy them, a few gave them little or
no attention, while one or two nN nodded as they

ogged past.

Nek the tail-end of the squad Calvin Roberts, cap. as
tain of the relay team, put in an appearance and slow red
down to trot at Dick’s side.

“Hello, Merriwell!” he called. “What's this mean?
Didn’t know you were on the road. You didn’t start

:
i

    
     
   
       
       
    
        
       
       
      
    
 
 
     

eee ue .

“Going in for running?”

“No 9

“Then what——’”’

“Just out for the exercise.
football finished.” ae

“You know I asked yoti to come out. I’ve seen
ou tear u oes turf in one or two sensational run
¥

 
 

  

Been getting lazy since

 
 

  
  
 

eet TIP TOP

on the field, and I know you can spurt. The only
question is whether you’ve got staying qualities,”
“Haw! snorted Jones.

in the Harvard game.”

“T think he stayed some

“Oh, sure,” agreed Roberts quickly, “he stood a lot

of grief. There’s no question but Merriwell can take
punishment all right.”

fe | Honk!

i Roberts gave

honk!
a ludicrous jump to one side as an
automobile-horn sounded behind them. With a whiz-
zing whir, a large red touring-car swept past. On the
back seat of the car were three rosy-cheeked girls
. bundled in furs. They seemed to recognize the run-.
_ ners, for they uttered a little chorus of cries as they
_. flashed past.
“The Gradford girls,”

“And Mabel Ditson,”
them.”

“Hello, there’s trouble!”
He’s

who was approaching, had persistently

    
    
  
   
 
 
 
 
  
   
   
    
 

said Dick.

put in Jones. “She was with

 

 

“That
not going to give them any road.”

exclaimed Roberts.
man is ugly.
A farmer,
, declined to turn out in spite of the insistent requests
of the horn.
was forced to throw off his power, apply the brake,

As*a result, the driver of the big car’
and bring the machine to a full stop. The sound of
_ the farmer’s harsh voice reached the ears of the three
lads.

» presence of, the girls in thé machine.

He was swearing in utter disregard of the

nilddenty, with the clutch disengaged, the chauf
: feur advanced throttle and spark and opened the cut-

out. The sharp puffing of the machine started the

  

farmer’ s old horse and caused him to veer to one side.
_ Seeing his’ chance, the driver of the automobile at-

  

tempted to slip past.
“You cussed ’ristocratic autymobeel folks think you

   

(??

own the earth!” snarled the countryman.

yet take that!’

“Scare my

  

.. seenied/ to lose his balance, for he pitched from

 
  

his Seat, and Sui startled boys saw y him plunge head-

Her eyes were fastened on Dick, and his met hers.

Troost energy seemed fairly to lift him over

WEEKLY.

CHAPTER: IL.
THE HEART.
“Look at that,
Roberts uttered the shout and leaped ahead at full

CONQUERING

t

Merriwell!”

speed.

No quicker than Dick, however. Side by side they |
shot forward, passing the countryman, who was still
snarling and swearing.

Roberts was straining every nerve, and when he
let himself out for a spurt he was a wonderful run-
ner. For all of the danger to the girls in the un-
guided motor-car, Cal Roberts suddenly realized that
his companion was at his side and keeping up with
him, stride for stride, which gave him a momentary
feeling of surprise.

This surprise was destined to become astonishment,
for, in spite of the efforts of Yale’s famous runner,
Dick gradually gained speed and forged ahead. Both = |
of them had been gaining on the machine. They were |
not far behind it, and there seemed a. prospect that aa
they might overtake it. Nhe hy

In the tonneau three badly frightened girls were |
standing clinging fast to one another. The Gradford _ 4 ay
sisters were screaming wildly. Mabel Ditson seemed |
too alarmed to scream, her face, from which the veil
She turned her —

ee tl SoS cee nen eg PN

 
   
       
 

 

   

had blown back, being deathly pale.
head and gazed appealingly at the would-be rescuers.

 
      
    
 

He saw her lips part, and the rushing breeze seemed
to bear a single word to his ears. / 2
“Dick Si a a
It was her appeal to him for help.
Blessed Jones was coming. Nevertheless, he Me
not moved as quickly as his companions, and,
spite of his efforts, they gained on him at every ae 4
As he passed the countryman, Jones, without pausing, -
flung a few vehement words across his shoulder. fa
Suddenly Merriwell realized that he was no longer. ‘3
gaining on the red car. In a most astonishing man-
ner the machine stuck to the highway. The boy feared
it might swerve into the ditch at any moment. aes a
knew the danger of such an occurrence. Per haps the
car would turn turtle and pin its three fair occupants
beneath it. Perhaps those girls would be horribly:
injured—possibly killed! ny
Dick’s teeth were set like the jaws ‘of a vise, His’ ,
 Buger -nails cut into the palms of his re hands.
“T must! I-will!”
_ The words flashed through his Kenia. and a sudden |

      
       
   
       
        
     
      
   
   
       
           
       
 
    

    
        
 
    

or ere With a ene that literally amazed Rob-

  
   

and reached

Merriw ell shot alongside the car
for a grip on the top-iron that projected slightly from
the side of the forward seat.

‘i His fingers almost touched that iron.

erts,

Lees

At that mo-
just as he felt confident of securing the hold,
like a skittish thing of life, veered a bit, and
he missed.

It seemed that he had pumped himself to his very
utmost. A person with a weaker heart or less de-
termined spirit ntight have faltered and failed follow-
ing this non-success at the climax of such a herculean
attempt.
| Dick Merriwell was not the lad to give up as long

as there remained a shadow of hope. His nature was

one that seemed spurred to still greater heights by:
the thing that baffled.

The thought that this inanimate piece of mechanism
should baffle him at the moment when victory was
within his reach was something he could not endure.
A rut in the road, some slight irregularity, or, some-

thing, had sufficed to keep the machine from plunging
into the ditch, and once more it was speeding straight
ahead.

ment,
the car,

PE oy

 

et =

=

phe

Merriwell’s feet seemed shod with wings. But it
was not sufficient to keep pace with the moving car.
_ He must gain‘on it. A full yard at least was needed.
pa x Fortunately there was room enough for him at his
_ side of the road, and again his determined spirit lifted
him over the hard ground in a most magical manner.

This time he made sure. Out shot his hand, and
ih csiur his fingers closed with a grip of iron on the iron top-

Be holder. It seemed that he was lifted from the ground

fr by the momentum of the car. He sprang, landed on
: ‘the running-board and clung there.
| ‘Staggering along far behind, Blessed Jones wit-
- nessed this feat and breathed a sincere prayer of
. ceiee oa
oe Still nearer, Cal Roberts saw it all, and gasped his
iapestatbie amazement.
_ “That-—beats—the—world !”
But Dick’s task was not over. The. car was still
NA hedided and spinning along with growing speed. In
site of a roaring in his ears, Merriwell could hear
Mt the humming of the valves beneath the hood of the au-
_tomobile. He knew any second of delay might prove
, fatal, and, therefore, still keyed to that marvelous
pitch of accomplishment, he flung himself upon the
seat and seized the steering-wheel. The instant his
hands grabbed that wheel securely he felt ai vic-
tory was at last really his. One hasty breath he took
and then shut down the throttle, retarded a ae

 

 
 

TIP: TOP WEEKLY.

whispered :

! kerchief tightly around his forehead, after which the:

      
    
   
  
   
  
   
    
  
    
    
  
 
 

5
and disengaged the clutch. His foot found the brake,
and slowly, gently, steadily he brought the big car
to a stand. ;

Roberts came whizzing alongside, and Jones soon
appeared.

In the tonneau one girl, Mabel Ditson, sat white-
faced and silent. At her feet one of the Gradford
girls lay in a faint. Daisy Gradford, whom Dick
knew very well, was hysterical.

Gurgled Jones:

“ ‘Great is his name. By the might of his arm he
shall conquer, and no power there shall be whieh he
may not overcome.’ ”

Dick had thrown the gears into neutral. He now
cast off the switch, and the humming engine slowed
and stopped.

Clinging to the side of the car, Roberts gazed at
the victorious youth.

“By Jove, Merriwell,’ he palpitated, “you’re a
wizard! You didn’t run—you flew. I was doing my
best, but you just sailed away from me.”

“Never mind that,” said Dick. ‘“Let’s look after
these girls.” |

Already Jones had the door of the tonneau open
and was lifting Mabel Ditson to the ground. Daisy |
Gradford sprang out herself, still laughing and cry- —
ing in a breath. Her sister was lifted out by Merri-
well and Roberts. Even as they gently removed her

from the tonneau she opened her eyes and faintly

      
     
       
         
       
     
     
       
     
 

“Are we—are we dead 2”

“Far from it,” breathed Mabel Ditson. “Oh, Dick,
Dick!”
Her gloved hand rested on his arm, and her eyes

looked the things she could not say.

“You're all right,” assured Roberts, “and now T
want to get my hands on that old farmer.”

    
       
         
   
      
        
  
  

The chauffeur was now seen coming along the toad,
holding a bloody handkerchief to his forehead. |

The farmer’s whip-lash had cut him just above the
eyebrows, and one cheek was bruised and blackened
by the concussion when he fell headlong to the
ground. ae

 
 

Several of the runners who had passed on were
now seen returning. Of course, they had many ques-
tions to ask as they came up. On learning the truth,
Linscomb, Joyce, ae Gray started back over the road, i
resolved to overtake the countryman and hold him up.

Merriwell assisted the driver in binding a hand

  

 

  
      
      

 
  
  

man insisted that he was in condition to drive and
could take the machine back home.

Jones was talking to Mabel Ditson. Although she
had maintained a show of courage, she was afraid to
return in the machine and confessed this to Blessed.

“Tf you would go with us, Mr. Jones,” she said.
“Can’t you?”
“Look at me!” he exclaimed.
I haven’t anything to wear.”
“There are plenty of robes,” said Daisy. “T’ll sit
~ on the front seat, and you may sit in the tonneau with
Mabel and my sister.”

“T’m in running-rig.

  
   
  
  
  
  
  
   
  
  
  
  
  
   
   
   
  
       
     
       
     
     
       
     
      
     
   

ay “Please,” breathed Mabel.
a Blessed could not resist this appeal.
‘a - “All right,” he said, “Ill do it.”

The chauffeur. found a heavy coat for Jones, and
soon he was seated in the tonneau between two of the
girls. Merriwell and Roberts saw that the big fur
robe was carefully tucked about them. By this time
Daisy Gradford was inclined to make light of the ad-
venture, and the spirits of the others rose.

The driver cranked the machine and worked it
round on the somewhat narrow road.

“Now,” he said, “we'll see if we can find the man

_who gave me this mark.”

The big Ranier went hurrying away, leaving Rob-
erts and Merriwell. Once more Cal felt obliged to
express his admiration over Dick’s accomplishment,
but the latter cut him short.

“Forget it.” he smiled.

,

CHAPTER III.
ROBERTS GETS HIS EYES OPEN.

_ “We may as well leave the chauffeur to overtake
that country boor,”’ said Roberts. “You must be
pretty well pumped out after that fearful spurt, Mer-
 riwell. Still, you don’t look it. Let’s take it easy for
gawhile. Think you can jog along with me?”
“Oh, I guess so,’ answered Dick.
“You’re a dash-runner,” asserted the captain of the
relay team. “You'll make some records if you take
up that style of ee Why don’t you go in
senor it 2”
“Don’t you think football and baseball pretty near
enough for one man?”
Roberts laughed. :
“Lots of fellows reckon either one to be pretty near
enough. We don’t find many chaps who are equally
good in both departments. You mean to take up
baseball ?”

  

     
     
 
      
  

 
 

 
  
   

  

ie SOP

 

WEEKLY.
“T mean to keep it up,” corrected Dick.’

“Oh, yes. Seems to me some one told me you
cared most for that line of sport.”

“It’s the king of all open-air games.”

“T prefer football. Never did much in baseball my-
self. I believe your brother made his reputation
mainly as a pitcher?”

“At college.
tion as an all-round athlete. I believe he holds the title
of American champion.”

“It’s wonderful a man can do so many things and
do them well. Most fellows excel in one particular

thing, and as a rule they fall off if they attempt to |

go in seriously for anything else.”

As they jogged Roberts occasionally regarded his
companion with keenly critical eyes. He noted the
fact that after his terrific exertions Merriwell seemed
in good wind and covered the ground with an easy,
swinging stride in which there appeared no effort
whatever. In truth, it seemed easier for Merriwell to
run than for most chaps to walk. There was no stiff-
ness, no loss’ of movement, no side-swinging, but
everything seemed to combine to carry him along
smoothly and easily.

“Splendid form,’ Roberts
“Where'd you get it, old man?”

finally observed.

“Well, I owe a great deal to my brother for hints, —

suggestions, and coaching.”

“Most fellows have a lot of faults they cling to
tenaciously. Bellows, our coach, didn’t come out
with us to-day. He left the men in my charge. Old
Bally is inclined to get sore if a chap persists in bad
form. He’s cussed Lins¢omb up hill and down dale,

‘but it doesn’t seem to do the fellow any good. Lins-

comb can run in spite of his faults.”
“He would run better if he could eliminate then?

“Sure. Say, Merriwell, I wish yott had come out
for the team. I’m afraid we're going up against a
hard proposition in Boston next week.

mone in years. It would bea shame to have them
beat us.’

“But this B. A. A. tournament doesn’t stand for so

much, does it?”

“Oh, of course,
regular spring meet. All the same, we want to mark
as high as possible at Mechanics’ Hall.”

“T felt that I needed a rest after the football sea~

99

son.

Since then he’s made quite a reputa-_

“A 4? AS

I understand
Cambridge will turn out the fastest relay team de-

it doesn’t mean as much as our

“That’s natural. But I’d like to have Bally Bellows »

~ a py ee

 

 
se A ey meeps

 

 

 

the relay captain.

 

TIP TOP

see you on the track. Won't you come out to-mor-
tow?”

“T hardly think so,” was Dick’s “OE
course, I’m anxious for Yale to make a good record,
but I want to do lots of grinding this winter. Don’t
want any conditions hanging over me when the base-
ball season opens, you know.”

Roberts hid, his disappointment as well as possible.

“You seem all right,’ he said. “Supposing we hit
it up a bit faster.”

“Go ahead,” said Dick; “I’m with you.”

Feeling chagrined, Roberts was seized by a desire
to put Dick to the test. Therefore, he gradually in-
creased his speed, and soon they were covering ground
at a swift pace.

“There’s Linscomb now,” said the dark captain,
as they came round a curve and discovered a runner
ahead of them. “Evidently Gray and Joyce have
dropped him behind. Let’s overtake him.”

As they pulled up on the runner, Roberts began to
mutter to himself.

“Pumped out,”

answer.

Dick heard him say. “I thought

. so. He can’t stand a long drill like this.”

Linscomb heard them and looked rete In a short
time they overtook him.

“What’s the matter?” questioned Roberts,

“Nothing,” was the half-sullen answer. “I don’t
see any use in grinding myself out to-day. Joyce
and Gray are a couple of chumps. They’re racing.”
* “And that’s what I cautioned them against,” said
“Tt’s bad business.”

“Just what I said!’ growled Linscomb.

For a time the trio kept close together, but gradu-
ally Linscomb dropped behind. If Roberts noticed
this, he said nothing. Anxious to overtake Gray and

Joyce, he continued to speed along, with Merriwell
_ clinging at his side in the opposing wheel-track.

The road passed through a leafless grove, and be-
yond that small patch of timber they sighted the two
runners ahead of them. Evidently Gray and Joyce
had abandoned their race, for they were barely jog-

_ ging over’ the frozen highway.

Detecting the sound of running feet, Gray glanced
back and then spoke to his companion. Joyce looked
round, and an expression of surprise flitted across his

‘face as he recognized Merriwell as Roberts’ compan-
ion. } |

Roberts had nothing to say as he came up. Never-

i theless, his keen eyes were not deceived, and he knew
_ these two chaps were well pumped out by ‘the race
a in which they had indulged Feeling the seniyte to

         
    
    
  
   
  
    
    
  
   
  
   
   
   
  
   
  
  
  
  
   
  
   
   
 
  
  
    
  
  
    
   
      
     
     
     
 
 

WEEKLY. -

show them the folly of their action, the captain kept
on at a pace that tested his teammates when they
sought to hold ‘their own. Joyce had no jeers for
Merriwell, and it is possible he felt some dismay. as
he observed with what ease Dick kept stride with
Roberts.

After a short time both Joyce and Gray fell to the
rear.

“They'll hear from Bellows when I report: mut- © |)
tered Roberts. “Come on, Merriwell, you’re not quit-
ting, are your”

Dick had fallen back a bit. ia

“Oh, no,” was the laughing answer. “Cut it out
as fast as you please. I think you'll find me with you
when you get to the gym.”

Somehow this sounded like a challenge to Roberts,
and in a twinkling he seemed to forget his scruples
against racing. It was his ‘belief, in spite of what
Merriwell had demonstrated he could do, that in a
long grill Dick would lack staying qualities.

“You're great on short spurts, Mr. Merriwell,” he
thought, “but that kind of a man seldom has the en-
durance to stand a long, hard pull. We'll see what —
you're made of.” , be

With this in his mind, he sped along until the out-
skirts of New Haven loomed ahead of them. Still |
Dick remained slightly behind, and once more the |
relay captain called:

“Come on, old chap! I’m waiting for you.”

‘Don’t wait,” retorted Dick, as he suddenly put
on steam and reached Roberts’-side. .“I was letting
you set the pace. As fair play, I'll act as pace-maker os
awhile.”

“Oh, will your”
“Well, we'll see about that!

Roberts

>?

mentally exclaimed.

There followed an exciting race for a sistade of

a quarter of a mile. At last, in spite of all he could
do, Roberts saw Merriwell was beginning to gain.
Gradually Dick forged to the front, and as he took —
this lead he really seemed to increase his speed. The
amazement of the relay captain may be imagined wh
Merriwell turned a corner fully three rods in advance
and was almost half a block away when next seen. |
Around another corner Merriwell vanished. Reach-
ing that corner, Roberts was barely in time to see
Dick turn into still another street, and that was the
last he saw of him until he arrived at the gymnasium.

 
 

  

Perspiring and blowing, the relay captain entered
the gym, and almost the first man he met was Bellow a
the coach,

  

  

   
     
   
  
   
  
  
  
  
 
    
   
   
  
  
  
 
  
 
  
  
   
      
 
 
  
 
 
   
  
 
   
    
    
    
     
    
   
   
   
     
    

“Look here, Bally,” cried Cal, “have you seen any-
thing of that fellow Merriwell?”

“Yep,” answered Bellows. “Came in several: min-
utes ago, He has’ taken a quick shower, and he’s
dressing now.”

“Well, I want to tell you something!” panted the
relay captain. ‘“‘He’s the greatést runner on two legs!
We've got to have him on the team. He can give
any man in college half a mile start and beat him
a mile in a five-mile run!”

CHAPLIER LY.
DAGETT, THE MONEY-LENDER.

“Tt’s a cinch,” declared Duncan Ditson. “I tell you
it’s a cinch.”

He was standing in the middle of his room with his
particular friends, Dagett, Pickering, and Lee, lis-
tening attentively to his words. As usual Lee was in-
dustriously puffing at a cigarette. His once clear
complexion had taken on a slight sallow tinge. At
times his chin drooped, and there was a vapid, effemi-
nate look about his face.

Pickering, lean and lanky, was smoking a pipe. His
clothes hung loosely on his skeleton limbs.

Mel Dagett, squatty, big-mouthed, green-eyed,
crouched like a huge bullfrog on the edge of a chair
and twiddled his thumbs. There was something like
a faint sneer on Dagett’s repulsive face.

“How do you know so much?” hissed Mel.

Ditson, turned on him fiercely. :

“You're always asking questions!” he snapped.
“You're always doubting! How do I know? Didn’t
I spend Saturday and Sunday in Cambridge!”
“Well, well, go on, go on,” urged Dagett.

“T was visiting my friend Turner,” explained Dun-
can. rote comes from my town, you know. He
ie put me wise.’

_ “And you really think,” questioned Lee, his ciga-
rette bobbing as it hung on his lip—“you really think
there’s no doubt but Harvard will eat us up in the
B. A. A. relay race?”

— “T tell you it’s a cinch,” repeated Ditson. “Harvard
has the best relay team ever developed at Cambridge.
_ Yale is weak yet. Our team may be all right in the
spring, but they’ll have to strengthen certain spots.
It’s all right to talk about loyalty to Yale, but a man’s
fool to bet on loyalty.”
“A man’s a fool to bet on his own team Whey he
lows well enough that it will be defeated,” agreed
ke: ering. “How about the other events, Dunc?”

 
 

 
 

 
 

 
 

 
 

 

TIP TOP WEEKLY.

“Oh, I suppose we stand a good show of holding

our own at the hurdles, the shot-putting, the high

jump, and so forth. But I’m not talking about those.

What we fellows want to do is to make a strike. IL

confess I could use a little extra money, and I see a
chance to make it. We're right here on the ground,
and we can find a lot of chumps who will back’ Yale on
loyalty. We can make a pool and get some. fellow to
look after the bets.”’

“I’ve heard a great deal about sure things that
never panned out,” sneered Dagett. “We've seen a
few of those sure things, the whole of us. Are you
going to take the word of your friend Turner that
Harvard will have a snap in the relay race? That’s
the judgment of a Harvard man, and he’s biased.”

“I had a chance to see their team at work. They've

got some great runners, and every man is swift.
There isn’t a single weak spot on their team. Now,
we all know such is not the case with our team.”

“IT know of only.one really weak man,” said Pick-
ering.

“Who’s that?”

“Linscomb.”

oes one weak man is Sih to defeat a relay
team.”

“There are several spare men who may be used,”
reminded Jim.

“And not one of them is better or even as good as
Linscomb. I have it straight from the inside that Bel-
lows says so. Bellows doesn’t think any too much of
Cal Roberts’ bunch.
who can run against us. They ought to be able to pick
out five winners from that squad.”

“Last year,”
defeated Harvard in the B. A. A. meet.”

“And that’s one reason why Yale won’t do it this.

She’s lost three of her best men. Grady,
Roberts and Perry

year.
Marshall, and Truck are gone.
are the two men of the old team who are left.
vard has the best track coach in the business. Bill
Shote can make a runner out of any sort of material.
Harvard is determined to get even for last year’s
downfall. I’m going to raise every cent I can scrape
together to bet on that relay race, and I’ll back Har-
vard.”

“Tl’m with you, old chap,” said Lee. ‘“Haven’t got
much ready cash, but I can raise some from old Ikie.
I’m willing to risk twenty-five plunks.”

“Well, I think I’ll stand for twenty-five myself,”
nodded Pickering. ?

Ditson turned on Dagett.

There are ten men at Cambridge

softly reminded Lee; “last year Yale

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qi TOP

“Come in or .stay ont,” he. said. “1fi- youre
afraid ——”’

“Oh, I’m not afraid,” hissed Mel. ‘I'll come in.”

“Well, I’m glad you have a little nerve,’ laughed
Dune. “Still, I'll not believe you until I see the color
of your money.”

“Perhaps you think I haven’t any money,”
Dagett.

“Oh, yes, you always have a roll.
blamed mean to be broke.”

“How’re you going to get these bets?’ questioned

snapped

You’re too

Mel. “You can’t go round looking for suckers your-
self. You'll get every one sore on you if you try
that.”

“Sport Spofford will look out for the suckers. I
have a little pull with him, and he’ll place our money.”

“Sport generally looks out for himself,’ reminded
Dagett. “He never does anything without proper con-
sideration. He'll want half the winnings if we win;
and he’ll lose nothing if we lose. That’s his game.”

“T told you,” said Dunc grimly, “that you could
come in or stay out. I'll take care of this business
with Spofford, and we'll get every cent we win.
You're all wind, Dagett. I suppose you have your
money tucked away under a carpet or somewhere in
your room. You don’t carry it for fear you'll spend

a nickel.”

\??

“That’s where you’re off your trolley!” rasped the
green-eyed chap, producing an old-fashioned ‘“‘calf-
skin’ and slapping it on his knee. “I have the dough

right here.”

He opened the pocketbook and revealed the fact
that it was well filled with “real money.”

“Oh, say,” cried Lee;
sawbucks and a V!”

“Oh, I can’t do that,’ Dagett hastily declared.

“say, old fel’, lend me two

“T’ve got to use this money right away.”

“Give you interest,” proposed the little chap. “Give

Einstein gets twenty.”

“And. takes it in advance,” reminded Dagett. “T’ll
do the same if you put up security.”
“Well, you’re a fine fellow!’ sneered Ditson. “You

ask security for a loan to one of your friends. That’s

the limit.”

?

“Business is business,” sibilated the froglike chap.
“T’ve noticed that friends forget to pay oftener than
any one else.

> he added, with a smirk of his homely mug,

 

 

| Loaning money to friends without se-—
curity 2 a blamed good way to lose your friends. Of

| ourse,’
“of course, I’d let any of you fellows have money if

WEEKLY. ee oe

  
 
  
   
  
  
 
  
  
  
  
 
  
  
  
  
  
   
    
  
  
 
  
  
  
 
  

you were really in distress, no matter whether you
could provide security or not.”

“Yes, you would—not,” laughed Pickering.

Meantime, Lee had been fumbling with his watch.
With. a sigh he held it toward Dagett.

“Let me have twenty-five on this until after the
B. A. A. meet, and I’ll pay you twenty-seven fifty,”
he proposed. \ .

Dagett examined the timepiece in a critical manner,
and then shook his head, grinning a bit derisively.

“You'd get about ten on this at Einstein’s,” he said.
“It isn’t worth more than twenty under any circum-
stances.” }

Lee flushed a bit

“My mother bought that for me,” he said. “She
paid forty dollars. It was her setae the day I got
my clearance document at Andover.”

“That’s all right,” nodded Mel. “You've had your
monogram carved on it, and really I doubt if you
could get twenty plunks if you had to dispose of it
at forced sale. You'll have to do better than this,
Lee;

Bertie removed his diamond scarf-pin.

“ That'll ‘be

“Take this, too!” he cried fiercely.
enough. Hang you, you’re a second Einstein!” |
Mel’s green eyes glittered with a greedy light, but —
he endeavored to repress a show of eagerness. As if |
in doubt about the matter, he pretended to accept the
pin with an air of reluctance and examined it in the
same critical manner that he had surveyed the watch.
“Real sparks?” he questioned. :
“Think I’m wearing paste?”
“You know they’re real sparks.
is worth seventy-five. Better let me have thirty on —
the ticker and the pin. I'll pay you thirty-three as —
soon as the B. A. A. business is over.” f

hotly demanded Lee.
That little horseshoe

Pickering and Ditson had exchanged glances. ¢
There was an expression of contempt on their faces #
as they watched Dagett. |

“Well, seeing it’s you, old fel’,” said Mel, aie
pretended good humor, “I’ll have to let you have the
money. Of course, I’m keeping the watch and pin
merely as a simple little pledge between friends.”

“But don’t you wear either!’ cried Bertie. “And if
you lose either, I'll have your scalp.” :

“Oh, I’ll take care of them,” assured Dagett.
“Don’t be afraid of that. Here’s your money, and
you'll make a good. thing if you get it ‘up on the Har-
vard relay team —according to Ditson’s judgment.” _

He slipped the watch into his pocket and careft 1

 

 
 

10 | ALE TOP

put the:pin away imside the “‘calfskin.”’ Lee received
two ten-dollar bills and two fives.
ba Duncan Ditson had found a pipe and filled it.
Striking a match, he lighted the pipe, made sure it
was burning freely, then once more turned to look
Dagett over.

“Have you any Hebrew blood in you, Mel?’ he
asked.

“Well, I guess not!” was the hissing retort.

“Then you ought to have. You were certainly cut
out for a pawnbroker. I'll prophesy as' to your fu-
ture. After finishing your course at Yale you'll go
into business. Some day we'll call around at your
place of business, and we'll find three gilded balls
hanging over your door.
Einstein, it won’t be your fault.”
_ “Now, I don’t like that—I don’t like that,” Mel
_ protested resentfully.. “It’s not nice from a friend.
Sinply because I happen to have some money and I’m
willing to make the loan to Lee, and I happen to want
security, you're rubbing it in. 1 like Lee. I don’t
want to lose him for a friend. It’s the easiest thing in
the world for any fellow to forget about a little loan
of this sort. The fact that he has let me have his
watch and pin will keep it on his mind. It'll prevent
any disagreements or misunderstandings.

Ditson turned his back on Dagett.

Lee stepped forward and handed Dunc two tens
and a five.

If you don’t make a second

 
   
    
  
   
  
    
   
   
 
  
   
         
       
      
  
   
   

“My part of the pool,” he said.
my clothes, [’'m liable to spend it.
will be enough for me now.”

“Tf I keep it in
This other five

“Duncan accepted the money.
“T’ll have twenty-five for you before night,”
ised Pickering.

prom-

“Reckoning me as the third man,” said Ditson,
“that makes seventy-five. We want a hundred,”
“But you haven’t forgotten me, have your” sibi
lated Dagett.

! Jes, nodded Dunc. “I’ve forgotten you, and I
don’t intend to trouble my memory on your account.”
What do you mean by that?”
he ast.t it ei enough ?”
‘Not quite.” —

“Well, then, we're going to leave you out of the
pool. We think so very, very much of you that we’re
afraid that you ment lose your ee - nde

   
   
  

We’ Il find another man, al right, You don’t: vised
to take any risks. You're a double-end-twisted skin-

 

WEEKLY.

‘\

flint, and you will always have money without risking
anything.”’
“T don’t like your language, Mr. Ditson!’” snarled

Dagett, rising to his feet and standing with his knees

slightly bent and his elbows outcrooked, which made
him look more than ever like a huge bullfrog. “I
know some few things about you that you are mighty
If I should happen to let

33

particular to keep quiet.
some of these things slip——

“You won't,” said Ditson. “After this exhibition
of miserly, hard-fisted, pound-of-flesh dealing with a
friend you'll have nothing to say about me. On the

other hand, none of us is going to express his opin-

ion of you. If the class should find out just what
kind of a rotten skinflint you are, you’d find yourself
so devilish unpopular that you’d never show your face
on the campus. Don’t make any threats, Dagett.
They don’t alarm me any more.”

Having finished, Dunc moved a chair until it was
turned away from Mel: and sat down, beginning to

chat with Pickering and Lee, utterly regardless of the

fellow he had excorated.

Dagett stood quite still for some moments,
at Duncan’s back. Finally, with a
repulsive mug, he turned and hobbled toadlike toward
the door. No one gave him as much as a glance.
With the door half-open and his broad, mottled hand
on the knob, he looked over his shoulder,
the point of making an observation. He checked the
words with a gurgling sound in his throat.

“Fools!” he hissed. “Yah!”

Considering the state of his mind as he went ‘out, a

the door closed behind him with a gentle softness that
was almost laughable. te

CHAPTER Vii ide ale

USURY.

Big Rufe Robinson, bounding up the stairs, nearly

collided with Dagett.
“Hello!” he cried.
“Yes, that’s me!” hissed pee
it was?”
“Jolly
son, with a slow grin.
Sener aie gone wrong? Been to see Dunc?’
Gest . whe Ak
“Ts he in his room?”

“Ts that you! ey

good-natured, aren’t you?” grunted Robin :

“V és.” ie

“Anybody else there?” | a
“Ves,” : : | ; at

glaring
vicious twist of his ©

seeming on.

“Who’ d you think aa 4

 

“What's eating you now?

FS

 

 
 

 

 

   
  
  

_ about eighteen dollars at retail.
Pe, scatried it?”

    
 

, ought to fork them right over.
carry a roll with me.

“Who ?”

_“Lee and Pickering.”

“Well, why are you chasing in such a hurry? Come
on back.”

“Not on your life.”

“Why not?”

“T’ve been insulted.”

Rufe whistled.

“You have?” he half-grinned, as if scarcely able
to believe it possible. “Why, who could do such

a thing?”

“Ditson. He was particularly nasty, Robinson.
Just because Lee wanted to borrow some money of
me and I had business sense enough to ask for col-
lateral, Dunc Ditson called me a few unpleasant
names. He isn’t a chap to call many names, he isn’t.
I know him, and I know his record. Now, see here,
Robinson, you know that Lee is an irresponsible little
rat. I let him have thirty dollars.”

“Gee whiz!” gasped Rufe. “Where'd you get it?”

“Oh, I take care of my money, I do. I don’t go
round blowing it every chance I get, like some fellows
I know.”

“But you're always saying you haven’t any money
with you.”

“Don’t carry much, as a rule.

“Got any left?”

“Oh, I’m not busted.”

“Lend me thirt’.”

“There it is!” hissed Dagett. “There you go!
If you find a chap has a few dollars, you think he

That’s why I never
If you’ve got something for

*Tisn’t safe.”

9)

 

security
“Oh,” laughed Rufe, “then you reckon I’m as irre-
sponsible as Lee, do you? What do you want for
security ?”
“Enough to make me safe. What have you got?”
. Mel lowered his eyelids, for instinct told him that
his green eyes might betray an expression of greed.
“Well, let me see,”’ muttered Robinson. “I have a
watch, tennis-racket, set of boxing-gloves, and some
other truck of that sort.”
“Where’s the watch?”
“Here.”
Mel gave a hasty, critical look at Rufe’s timepiece,
which the latter passed over.
“Filled case, seven-jeweled Elgin movement, worth
How’ long have you

-

‘

rel year.”

DAE Se

    

WEEKLY. 11

“You could get about six plunks on it at Ein-
stein’s.”

“Ym not dealing with Einstein. He’s a usurer.
He’s an extortionist. He demands twenty per cent.
a month.”

“T have to get something in the way of interest,”
said Mel softly. “Ill let you have six dollars on the
watch, but you will have to pay me seven dollars to
redeem it. That’s on thirty days’ time.”

“Well, by blazes, you’re worse than Einstein!”
rumbled Robinson. ‘Did you say Ditson insulted
you? Impossible!’

With this he left the covetous freshman on the
stairs and proceeded on his way to Ditson’s room.

In spite of his expressed opinion of Dagett, big
Rufe sought Mel later in the day and invited the fel-
low up to his room.

“Dag,” he said, “I’ve got to have some cash. I’m
going irito a pool with Ditson, and I need twenty-
five or thirty dollars. Here’s my watch. Here’s my
Here’s my tennis-racket, baseball-shoes,
I have some ‘other articles here
that are worth something. There’s the toilet set and
manicuring-outfit that my sister gave me. Let me
have thirty. Ill pay you ten per cent., the same as _
Lee agreed, and that is for a thirty days’ loan.”

With difficulty Dagett repressed a grin of triumph.
Since his transaction with Lee he had meditated on
the matter and arrived at the belief that with the small
capital in his possession he might do a thriving busi-
ness as a money-loaner among his classmates. But
it would not do to let these fellows get the impression
that he was eager for such transactions. A cleverer
policy would be to give them the impression that he
was loaning this money as a particular favor among
particular friends. Therefore, he now protestingly
held up one broad, spatulate-fingered hand.

“No, Rufe,” he said, shaking his head, “after what
you said to me on the stairs, I don’t feel like doing
this thing. Besides that, thirty dollars would pretty
nearly leave me busted.”

“But I’ve got to have the money,” said Robinson
grimly. “Ditson has a sure thing, and I can make
twenty-five by risking twenty-five. If you let me have
thirty, you'll make three dollars on a short loan, ‘and —
that ought to satisfy old Shylock himself.”

“Oh, that’s all right,” hissed Mel quickly. “That's /

match-safe.
and boxing-gloves.

not why I’m objecting, but I don’t want you or any —
one else to get the impression that I would take a
mean advantage of a friend. If I deprive myself in

order to let you have money, it’s only fair that you

  

 
 

re

should pay me a little interest. But I don’t want this
truck, Robinson. You must have something else
that’s better. The watch is all right. Haven't you
any extra clothes?”

For a moment it seemed that Rufe’s disgust and
aversion for narrow-souled creature
would overcome him and lead him into another con-
demnatory outbreak. But Robinson was good-na-
tured, and he finally burst into a slow laugh of amuse-

this grasping

¥

ment.
ag CF hat’s ce I’m down to hard Hat * he said. “Just
| got a new suit from a swell tailor.’ :

He o und the clothes-press and brought forth the
suit, spreading it on the couch for Mel’s inspection.

Dagett felt of the cloth, held the coat to the light,
examined the lining, and took note of the tailor’s tag.

 
  
  
  
 
    
  
   
  
   
 
    
   

“Pay about twenty-five?” he asked,
“Twenty-five?
paid forty-five.”
. “Got stuck,” said Mel.
“Well, if you can get that tailor to make -you any
clothes at twenty-five dollars a suit, I'll buy every
- suit he makes for thirty. There’s a chance for some
business, as long as you’re out for business.”
. “He charges for the tag,” sibilated Mel. “If you
had to hang this suit up, you might get fifteen on it.
That would be the limit. Throw it in with the other
truck, and’I’ll let you have thirty on thirty days at
ten per cent.”

?” roared Robinson hilariously. “I

y?

“Well, you certainly are a corker!” cried Rufe.
I didn’t need the money so blamed bad, I give you
my word I’d feel like kicking you out. Under the cir-
_ctimstances, I'll take the money, and you may hold the
_ stuff until I pay.” :

“As long as we have no witnesses,” said Mel, “‘it’ll
be well enough to do this thing in a business way.
Give me pen and paper,”

He sat down and drew up a paper, in which each

TL
Tf

  

 
  
 

  

 

N Bet erthiess we'll say otha shen the interest in
this, We'll state, however, that the loan is thirty-
three dollars. Vil, let you have thirty. That fixes it
all right Eger rd he | :

  

  

TIP TOP

WEEKLY.

= tat We age i

“You seem to imply that, after entering into the |
agreement, I might go back on my word and refuse |
to pay you the three dollars bonus.”

“Oh, no, not that,” protested Mel.
sing something happened .to you—supposing
should die? In that case whoever settled for you would
be liable to refuse to pay more than the ordinary-—
the ordinary—amount of interest.” |

He paciicd avoided using the word legal, substi-
tuting ’ in its place.

“Well, I hadn’t thought of that,’’ grinned Robin- eae
son. “That would be tough on you, wouldn’t fei
That would be a howling shame! All right, fix it to
suit yourself. But give me a duplicate of that paper.
I want something to show for the seventy-five or
eighty dollars’ nae of stuff you're letting me have
thirty dollars ‘on.’ }

“But suppo-
you

 

“ordinary’

OS Ee 7
RERTOCTEE® |. < | pear eam

 

The papers were made out and signed. Dagett
gathered up the collateral and carefully made such ar- |
ticles as he could into a bundle, which was wrapped
with brown paper and securely tied.. Tossing the |
suit over his arm and taking the bundle, he started for_
the door. me eee

ae a minute, - laughed Robinson; “where’s the.
thirty ?”

“Oh, ho-ho!” said Mel. “Came near forgetting ry
that, didn’t 1?” ae ee

“But I didn’t.” Si

Dagett put down the bundle and the clothes and
produced his pocketbook. Turning his back on Rufe,
he started to fish forth the money, Robinson stepped
forward and glanced over Mel’s shoulder. ‘Bs

“Oh, yes,” he said bitingly, “a loan of thirty dates Eo
lars will very nearly break you! I don’t suppose you |
have more than seventy-five or a hundred dollars left,
On my word, I haven’t seen so much long green ina
And here we fellows have been thinking you~ %
were hard up. You go round looking shabby as an -
old miser with your pocketbook bulging like a blad-
et: Opa Sae

“But I—I have use—for my money,” edeisieen
Daget t, quickly closing the pocketbook and Slipping it
away. »“Here’s your thirty. I hope you'll make a_
good thing in that pool. If you happen to have bard
luck, you mustn’t blame me should I keep this stuff, a
After the fir st ous U'll have to charge double bik as

         
     
 

 

 

     
    
 
    
   
   
    

year.

      
       
     
       
     
       
    
 

terest.”’
“And you'll get it,” rumbled ciaseabnaiae
it—-in the neck!”

    
   
 

  

   
_—

   
   
  
    
   
  
  
   
   
   
  
  
  
  
 
   
  
 
 
 
 
 
   
 
  
 
 
 
   
  
  
 
  
 
  
  
  
   
   
 
 
 
  
  
   
 
  
  
  
  
  
 
 
 
 
 
   

 

 DLEy SOP WEEKLY, 13

a ae

sai CHAPTER’ VI. Dunc. Let me get a little streak. of luck and meet
Be him, and the streak goes all to pieces. I'd like to make

THE GAMBLER. : 2
a little raise, somehow.

“Would you?”
“Sure.”
“T can tell you how.”

With a hundred dollars in his pocket, Duncan Dit-
son set out that evening to find a well-known New
Haven character called Sport Spofford. Spofford

ne  .

was a man of uncertain age, somewhere between twen- “A friendly tip, eh?”
i ty-five and thirty-five, who hung around certain bar- “That’s right.”
; oms ir te Few Usually he was reac ~ es LPS
joule: TO ee frequented by Yale Bee Usually he was rea 3 “Favors always appreciated, you know.”
| to bet on any college game or event, and it was we “V’m looking for Spofford now. I have a hundred
1 known that, as a rule, he did not wager his own j;, my clothing for him.”
4 ia 8 _* a i ,
, money. His business was a peculiar one. Ifa Yale Du Boise lifted his delicate eyebrows a trifle
) . ‘ 3 ‘ ; oe ;
ed man desired to bet against his college team and wished tA Da deeto? he anid with: @ soil aabomanie oe
; | *-« . ise ” . ve 5 a i c
3 to escape a suSpicion of disloyalty, he sought out Spof- surprise. “Why, you're flying high. You're a bloated
oe ford and gave the fellow such money as he wished to jyitionaire.”
i oer ‘cc . 3
ke ager, as a ae and agreeing on eae Why, I’ve seen the time that a hundred wasn’t a
es ) snc / c we og JUS1- ‘ - ms 3
t port” should receive for transacting the bust pinch for you, Hal.”

ness. Keen of judgment, this fellow invariably refused “Not lately. A hundred cents looks pretty big to
to handle money which some chap might wish to have 4. just about now. But what’s this tip?

placed on terms difficult to get. | Few Yale men cared
to be seen in friendly intercourse with Spofford.

jnditne ncaile

“Go in with me, and we'll get Spofford to put our
money on a sure thing.”’

“What's the sure thing?”

“The B. A. A. relay race. Harvard is it.”
vf “What makes you think so?’ |
guzzling liquor. Dune ordered a drink and looked “Spent. last Saturday and Sunday at Cambridge:

Beto). Sparen: iit, Ne Biot, COROT GRAY, i I’m on the inside. Our team is weak. Their team is

leaned across the bar and asked the man behind if ae! odie
a ; a corker. They’ll win without a struggle, mark what
_ Sport had been in that evening.’ The answer was no. T say.”

Dunc was about to leave when some one brushed 7 ak. °
‘ “Well, you may be right,” murmured Du Boise, as_

he finished the absinthe and lowered his glass, “But,
really, if I had the money, I know something swifter
and surer than that. I might clear up a hundred.to-
night. But it takes coin to get into the game. You

say you have a hundred in your clothes. Lend me
this was a peculiarity of Harold Du Boise.

fifty, old man: I'll pay it back in the morning, with.
| “How, how, Du Boise,” said Dunc. “Seems to me pain is ve ?
| you're the one who’s been keeping himself out of sight Byes c rv :
eer, i hack ?” But—but,” stammered Dunc, “you know all this
ret 0 u . :
re, aaa money is not mine. It’s a pool, and I can’t lend you
“Rotten,” was the answer. “Aren’t you going to fifty, Really I can’t.” 3
treat, Dit?” — . ayy
“Sure. What’ll you have?”
“A little absinthe, I guess.”

The first place visited by Ditson was “Fred’s Sa-
loon.” He found a bunch of hazy-eyed, inflamed
_ young chaps lining the bar, smoking cigarettes and

against his elbow, and a low voice said:

“Hello, Ditson, old man! Haven’t seen you for
some time. Where’ve you been keeping yourself?’
'.. The speaker was a tall, pale chap, in dark clothes.
_ Indeed, his apparel was suggestive of mourning, but

 

 

4

ell, then,” murmured Harold softly, ‘let me have
twenty-five. -That’ll be enough to start me in the

b 3 ; : , game. I ought to land on my feet with that much.”
BM yey “Better aS al Fe 5 i * d : < 6 ” : - “eT ; :
‘eh ane Better guess again,” said Ditson That’s bad If I do that,” objected Ditson, “I'll have to take

tal. Wh: kes vy ith it?” eer, :
Pere Fae. NU OAL Stee Ou, BOE Waa my part of the pool out, and I can’t give it to Spofford

Dy eg , a know it’s bad stuff, but I feel the need of it to- with the rest. Besides, it’s taking chances, Hal, old
night. I’m rotten blue. Absinthe, Johnny.” fellow, it’s taking chances.” (te

        
     
     
        
    
 

~, Du Boise leaned, with an elbow on the bar and his “In what way?”
- foot on the rail. As he sipped the absinthe he re- “You might lose.”
garded Ditson with a sad, dreamy look in his eyes. Du Boise smiled languidly. :
| “Everything has been going wrong,’ he murmured, “T, might,’ he confessed, “but that is hardly proba-—

     

“since Merriwell crossed my track. He’s my hoodoo, ble. You know the chances are that I’ll win.” On
  

q “It’s mighty queer to me—mighty queer you are
ct busted. Why, you've made enough money at poker
to carry a fellow through a whole term in good shape.
Where is it? If you always win, why haven’t you got
that money now?”

“You know we all have our little weaknesses,” said
Du Boise, with a confessing air of explanation. “I
have mine like other fellows.”

“Oh, yes,” nodded Dunc, glancing at his com-
panion’s glass as the barkeeper removed it.

“Not that,’ denied Harold quickly. “I couldn’t
drink up what I’ve made in the time I’ve made
without getting a jolly good menagerie on my hands.
I’d have rats, blue monkeys, and snakes galore by this

time.”
_ “But I don’t understand. It can’t be the fair sex.”
re “Oh, no; I’m not ruining my finances in that way.”
ei “Then what z

 

“T don’t mind telling you, seeing that we are good
friends. I’m a sport by birth, blood, and instinct.
Poker on a small scale is really too insignificant for
me. I long to buck the tiger in royal style. I long
_ to take chances by which, if fortune favors me, I can
turn fifty or a hundred dollars into a thousand or five
thousand dollars in a single night. This craving has
been my undoing up to date. Do you remember. Mc-
Coon?”

“McCoon ?”

“Yes. The man who ran a gambling-house here in
town and had a lot of Yale men on his staff.”

“Oh, yes,” nodded Dunc. “Why, they raided his
_ place, and he got out of town awhile ago. Everybody
supposed that he was gone for good, but he came back
and tried to conduct a place on the quiet. The police
_ pinched his joint a week or so ago.”
“Yes,” nodded Hal, “the police pinched his joint,
and they were given the tip by me.”
Dune whistled in surprise.
“By you?”
“That’s what I said.”
“But I didn’t suppose you would
' “JT had good reasons,” interrupted Hal quickly.
_“Y’m no squealer when I lose my money on the level,
but McCoon ran a crooked game. I became satisfied
of this at last, and I was pretty sore. One night I
dropped my last dollar on McCoon’s faro-table and got
up to leave the place. As I started out I came face
to face with a Yale man. Guess who it was?”
“Pet Cunningham.”
“Oh, no, you’re way off.”
“Phil Whiting.”

 

  

   

TIP TOP WEEKLY.

“You couldn’t guess ina month, old fellow. It was
Dick Merriwell.”
““Wha-a-a-a-a-t ?”’ gasped Dunc.

Coon’s joint? You're joking.”

“Merriwell in Mc-

“T couldn’t believe my own eyes, but there he was.
I don’t understand now just what took him there or
how he got into the place. That’s not all that bothers
me. I saw a fine chance to give him the sort of adver-
tisement that would do him a heap of damage. I
knew a cop who would protect me in case I gave him
information, and as soon as I could get out of Mc-
Coon’s I made for that cop. Didn’t lose a minute’s
time. Well, my policeman friend notified headquar-
ters, and in short order we had a detachment of officers
ready to follow me into McCoon’s. My one fear was
that Merriwell would get out before the cops could
raid the place.”

“And he did?”

“No.”

“Great Cesar! You don’t mean to tell me that he
was caught there by the police?”

“Precisely so.”

“But I didn’t see his name in the papers.”

“That’s another funny -thing about it.
there, all right, and he was with Jack Randall, the
Harvard man, and some heavily veiled young woman.
ep had just hit the roulette wheel fora heavy
sum.’ I understand it was somewhere near four or
five thousand dollars. The lucky dog had taken his
winnings in cash as fast as things came his way. He
had the long green in his clothes. Now, Randall or
Merriwell must have had a pull: with the police, for
when I watched to see our esteemed college-mate take
a ride in the patrol-wagon he was missing. Likewise
Randall and the veiled girl. You see I wasn’t in a posi-
tion to make-a roar over it. I wanted to holler, but
if I did I was liable to get some free advertising my-

self. Therefore, I had to keep my trap closed. That’s
how I missed a fine chance to soak our highly esteemed —

And >

and greatly beloved friend, Richard Merriwell.
now you know why, regardless of my poker winnings,
I’m bumping on the rocks just at present.”

“Jerusalem!” cried Dunc. “That’s an interesting
yarn, old man. By Jove, it would have been'a soaker
on Merriwell! Merriwell, the model of morality and
uprightness, caught in a gambling-den! Too bad! too
bad!”

Du Boise smiled appreciatively. :

“T see that you realize just what a fine opportunity

I missed through no fault of my own,” he murmured. __
“I had it all figured out in my mind. Merriwell’s _

pig

He was.

   
   
   
  
  
  
  
   
  
  
   
  
   
 
    
  
  
   
   
  
  
 

 

me Ne
ge

 

    
   
     
       
       
       
     
   
      
       
       
   
 
    

 

 

 

— too- slick.

-Oour own shoulders.

a smile

_ think I’ve learned my lesson.

i Tie tOr
name in the newspapers in black type. Merriwell, the
freshman wizard half-back! I saw him getting his
walking-papers from the faculty—in my mind’s eye.
Oh, it was fine—very fine! But it fell through. He’s
Nothing seems to upset him. Every time
we've planned to make trouble for him he’s been:able
to ward it off, and usually the trouble has fallen on
3ut his time is coming. He can’t
keep up his career without making a misstep sooner or
later. And I pray that I may be in at the death when
that time comes.”

“Evidently you love him,”

“More than words can tell,” breathed Hal,
“The only
satisfaction I’ve ever obtained out of him or his friends
I got the night we loaded Chester Arlington and
skinned him of his last dollar. You were in that
game, and you know just how it was done.”

“It was easy,” laughed Ditson. “But it seems queer
to me that a fellow as clever as you should go up
against a crooked game in a gambling-joint.”

Harold made a gentle gesture.

“Don’t rub it in,” he implored. “Didn’t I confess
to my folly? Didn’t I acknowledge my weakness? I
3ut now I need a stake
in order to get on my feet, and I hope I’m not appeal-
ing in vain to one I regard as a particular friend.”

with
that was vicious. and revengeful. ©

Duncan looked doubtful and shook his head slowly.

Seeing this, Du Boise was struck by a new idea, and

made a fresh proposition.

“Stand in with me, old man,” he éaid, “and share
in the profits. You can help me in the game. You
know how to do it. When I have a good hand, when
you see my left eyelid droop as I regard my cards,
bet-—bet until I call or give you the signal to quit.

With the money you have, if we’re fortunate in finding

a game running to-night, we ought to clean up a good
thing. What do you say?”
Ditson was attracted and lured by the prospect.

Knowing Du Boise’s cleverness as a card-sharp, he

felt that there was every reason to believe the scheme

would prove successful.

“Tt must be share-and-share-alike. I furnish the
cash, you furnish the skill, and we divide the winnings.

as ‘But they tell me the game here is getting childish.

know a better game.”

Everybody seems shorn to the skin, and the fellows
_ who play are looking for penny ante.’’ |

“We won't play here. I know a better place. I

“Where?”

“The Green Dragon. Never been there, have you?”

WEEKLY. 15

     
  
   
   
   
  
   
   
   
    
  
  
   
  
   
    
  
   
   
   
  
   
    
  
  
   
 
  
  
  
  
   
  
   
 
    
 
     
 

“No; but I understand there’s always a big game
going on there.”

“That’s right.”

“And there are sharks in it.”

**Possibly,”” nodded Harold.
be good if they beat me.”

“College men don’t play there, do they?”

“Well, not often. That’s all the better for us.”

“We'll be taking on a big contract going up against
town sports. Can you get into the Dragon?’

“T have. Don’t be afraid, Duncan, old fellow. Have
some nerve, and we'll make a fat thing this evening.
I’d stake my life on it. Here you are looking for
Sport Spofford with a measly hundred or so in your
clothes, only a part of which belongs to you. You
vant Spofford to put the money up on something
several days off in order that you may make a winning.
And you'll have to pay Spofford his bonus in advance.
Perhaps you don’t know that he always demands it
in advance. You won’t get odds, or, if you do, they'll
be small odds, and you'll have to travel around with
your pockets practically empty until the B. A. A. meet.
Iftyou back me to-night and stick by me, you'll have
your jeans stuffed with real money before the cock
crows to announce the morning hour. Come, Dune,
I’m sure you have confidence in me, and that’s all you
need. What do you say?”

“T’ll do it,” said Ditson, with sudden decision.

“But they'll have to

 

CHAPTER VIL.
TH E HOLD-UP,

It was near 1 o’clock in the morning when two
well-satisfied and highly elated Yale freshmen left the
Green Dragon, a common card-house in a cheap sec-
tion of New Haven. The moment they were on the
dark street Duncan Ditson slapped Harold Du Boise ‘J
on the shoulder, laughingly exclaiming: f

“You certainly made good, old wish Hat ha! ha!
By Jove! it was rich to see you skinning those slick |
veterans! But what made you ‘call for a fresh pack —
of cards every twenty or thirty minutes? What made
= insist on having fresh cards?” oe

3ecause that fellow with the broken nose was
marking the pasteboards,”’ explained Harold. “TI was
onto him, and he knew it.”

“They were pretty oe
didn’t want us to quit.”

- “That’s where I was clever in setting a time to stop
when we began playing. We've made over three han-
dred dollars, old fellow.” .

  

chuckled Duncan.

a e >

  

 
 

 
  

   
 

re 16-

“And we've got it in our clothes,” exulted Ditson.
“T was afraid we wouldn't be able to get away with
ey :

“Didn’t know myself but we might have trouble.
You worked your end of the game for all it was
worth, but I had to give you the sign, else you would
have overworked it.”

Neither of the boys noticed two dark figures stand-
ing close together’in a dark doorway. Nor were they
aware that when they had passed these two figures
consulted in hoarse whispers, with heads close to-
hee gether, and then started in pursuit of them like tongue-
ie! Jess hounds-on a scent.
“Now,” said Durican, “if I could find Spofford to-
night, I’d put the hard cash in his hand and some
more with it for my own especial benefit.”

“You're confident. you have a sure thing on this
relay race?” questioned Du Boise.
_ “There’s no doubt about it. Harvard will win that
_ tace as sure as it is pulled off.”
“Well, I don’t mind going in with you for a hun-
_ dred, old chap. That'll leave me enough coin to carry
-mealong. There’s only one place where we'd be liable
to strike Spofford at this hour. Ill take you there.”

They turned down a dark and. narrow alley, Hal
leading the way. |
_ Hearing soft footsteps behind them, Ditson glanced
round. Two men, appearing in a great hurry, were
close at their heels. One of the men turned out to
pass them in advance of his companion. He brushed
against Ditson and shouldered Du Boise, causing Hal
to stagger a bit.

“What in thunder ” began Harold.

But he stopped suddenly, for the man had whirled
about and thrust something under his nose.

“Up wit’ your hands, young feller!’ was the hoarse
whisper. “Don’t make a holler, or ie blow der roof
__ of yer head off!”

At the same instant the other man grabbed Duncan
by the shoulder and pressed something cold against
his head just back of his ear. | .
_ “Dat’s an automatic pop-gun,”’ were the words Dit-
son heard, “and it’s loaded. If you yell, I’ll git nerv-
ous and pull the trigger.” |

“Held up, by blazes!’ gasped Dunc.

_ At the same instant he felt the free hand of the man
tapidly feeling through his pockets.

A murmur of voices, growing louder, reached their,
ears from the street at the far end of the alley.

- Ditson longed to shout for help but the cold muzzle
f that revolver sealed his lips.

 

 
    
   
 
 

 

  

 
  

 
 

 
 

 
  

TLE Oe WEEKLY.

Once more the footpads warned the boys to keep
silent.

The distant voices grew, plainer, and suddenly some
one was heard singing, in a thick-tongued, maudlin
manner :

“We won't go home till morning,
We won't go home till morning.”

*“*Lo and behold,’”’ croaked another voice, “ ‘the
weak and wayward shall look on the prune juice when
it biteth like a serpent and stingeth like an adder.’ ”

“Wha-sh masher wish you, Blessed?” cried the
singer. “You're drunk. Why don’t you shing? Ain’t
you got no mushic in your shoul? I think shingin’ ish
perfectly lovely. Le’sh all shing. Come on, Dick, you
shing, too.”

“You

“Cut it out, Tommy,” advised a third boy.

can’t sing when you’re sober, and you’ve got a peach,

of a load to-night.”
They were passing the mouth of the alley.

“Wha’sh masher with you, Dick?” protested the.

intoxicated one. “I’m ‘shamed of you. I’m ’shamed
to be sheen in your shoshiety. You’re alwaysh shober.
Why don’t you take drink shometimesh ?”

Ditson longed to set up a shout, but he did not
have the nerve.

Not so with Du Boise.

With a sudden dodging movement, Hal struck the
threatening weapon aside, and the alley resounded with
his sharp appeal.

“Merriwell! Jones! Help! This way!”

Both hold-up men uttered oaths.

Dick Merriwell and his roommate, Jones, had been
searching the saloons for Tommy Tucker, having

learned that the little fellow was out “painting the

town.” They had found Tucker at last, and were
taking him home. Chance brought them past that
alley in which the footpads were holding up Du Boise
and Ditson.

Quick-witted and ready for anything, Merriwell |

realized, on hearing that appeal, that some one was

in trouble. Instantly he called Jones to follow him,

and dashed into the darkness of the alley, crying: ©
“Where are you?”

“This way! Here! here!” answered Du Boise, whet

had grappled with his antagonist.

The other ruffian sought to render assistance to his
pal, and Duncan was inexpressibly relieved as the
threatening pistol no longer froze his quivering flesh.

Instantly he set up a great shouting, although he made = ;

no move to assist Hal.

 

 

 

 

eta Tn oes

        
     
   
   
   
    

 

    
     
     
       
     
   
   
       
    
 

     
     
    
     
    
      
   
 

 

 

 

TIP TOP

| Du Boise received a blow on the head that caused
_ him to sink limply to the ground.
Close at hand Merriwell and Jones charged on the
dimly seen figures.
Crack!
_ A flash of fire punctured the darkness, and between
those narrow walls the pistol-shot sounded like the re-
port of a cannon.
_ Having fired over the heads of the would-be res-
We cuers, the hold-up men took flight. Merriwell would
have fearlessly pursued, but Ditson clutched and held
| him, saying: ,
“Let ’em go! Don’t leave us! They haven’t got
anything! Du Boise is down! He’s hurt!’
_ “What was doing?” questioned Dick.
“Hold-up,” explained Duncan. “You fellows came
just in time.”
. Along the alley staggered a little figure, reeling
| from side to side and thickly crying:
“Lemme get at ’em! Show me to’em! Been look-
_ ing for shome exshitement all night, and couldn’t find
 blesshed thing doing. Whoop! whoop-ee! Cock-a-
doodle-doo! Take that, you horrid thing!’
Tucker feebly slapped Ditson with his open hand
as he lurched forward. Then he fell over Jones, who
__ had stooped to lift-Du Boise.
. “Shoak him! shoak him!” spluttered Tommy, roll-
_ ing around on the ground. “Didn’t you shee him
_ push me? Is thish the way you stand by your
friends?” :
Du Boise was not unconscious. Tenderly he rubbed
his head as he murmured:
“Jingoes, what a crack! Where are they ?”

a “Methinks the enemy hath flown,” answered Jones.
+ “Their fear gave them wings when they heard us
= approach.”

Du Boise began feeling in his pockets.

“Jove, but we’re lucky!” he said. “In another min-
- ute they would have cleaned us out. I don’t believe
they got a dollar.”

Blessed lifted Hal to his feet, while Tucker man+
aged to sit up, although he found it impossible to rise
unaided. |

“High shee on,” mumbled Tommy. ‘“Shomebody
stop the ship. I want to get out and walk.”

“Too bad those thugs got away,” said Merriwell
regretfully. “How’d you fellows happen to be here?”
_ “We might ask you that question,” said Du Boise,
“but, of course, it’s none of our business.”

Dick laughed, but Jones growled:

 

 

5S gator ae a
SED ogi EE gt teat see

 

 

  
  
  
  
    
    
  
 

 

  

 

 

 

 
 
 

  

WEEKLY.

“There’s real gratitude for you! Here we’ve saved
these chaps from.being robbed, and these are the
thanks we get.”

“Yes, we shaved them,” mumbled Tucker. ‘“Ain’t
it perfectly lovely to be shaved! Ain’t we noble
heroes! Ree-ee!’’

“Your friend seems to be all to the bad, Merriwell,”
said Hal.

“You're nusher,” spluttered Tommy. “You’re all to
bad. Nushin’ "bout you that ain’t bad. Lemme get
up. Who’sh holdin’ me down? Lemme tell Mishtar
Du Boise what I think of him. It’ll be in language
that will burn. Mishtar Du Boise, you’re a—you’re a
foozle. Tha’sh shplendid word. I repeat it, sir.
You're a foozle.”

>

“Evidently you have a task on your hands to take
care of your inebriated friend,’ sneered Du Boise, re-
covermg his hat and tenderly placing it on his bruised
head. “We thank you for your friendly act.”

“That’s right,’ agreed Ditson, “we thank you, Mer-
riwell, old man. Perhaps we'll be able to do as much
for you some time.” :

“Tt’s a wonder the police didn’t hear that shot,”
said Jones. “I’ve been expecting cops to show up at
any minute.”

It appeared, however, that the pistol-shot had not
reached the ears of any curious person. Merriwell
and Jones lifted Tucker, and the boys made their way
out of the alley.

“Better come along with us,” advised Dick. “I
don’t suppose there’s much danger that those toughs
will get after you again, but it’s best to take precau-
tions,”

“Let ’em come!” squealed Tucker, lurching heavily
against Jones. “Ree-ee! I'd like to shee ’em try it.
No, shir, they’ll never do it. We scared ’em stiff.
Sure. Didn’t you shee ’em run? Didn’t shomebody
shee ’em run? I didn’t shee ’em run. I couldn’t get
near enough. Guess they knew I wash comin’. Le’sh
have nusher drink. Have one on me.”

“T don’t know where you'll find a saloon open at
this hour,” said Ditson. “Besides that, it’s plain —
you’ve had enough.” ;

“How'd you know so much?’ sneered Tommy. ©
“Who told you I’d had ’nuff? Ain’t had ’nuff. Le’sh ©
not go home. Le’sh not go bed. I hate bed. Wha’sh —
use to shleep when you can have good time? People
washte lots of good times in shleep. Le’sh shing— _
le’sh shing shomething sweet and shoulful. Le’sh
shing ‘Waltz me ’round ’gain, Willie.’ ”’ “ss

  

  
’ fe
.|

TIP TOP

 

And then Tommy began:

“Waltz me ’round’’gain, Willie, ‘round, ’round, ‘round;
. The mushic.is: dreamy, it’s peaches and creamy,

Oh, don’t let my feet tush the ground!

I feel like a ship on the ocean of joy,

I jusht want to hollar out loud, ‘Ship ahoy!’

Oh, waltz me ’round ’gain, Willie, ‘round, ’round, ’round.”

f “But, oh, what a difference in the morning!’ mut-
’ : >

tered Jones.

 

CHAPTER VIII.
DAGETT SPECULATES.

‘The following day both Ditson and Du Boise saw
Sport Spofford, and left a large roll of money with
him to be placed on the Harvard relay team.

Nor were they the only men who did this. For all
of his usual caution, Mel Dagett,: meditating on Dit-
_- sors professed knowledge of the Harvard team, ar-
rived at.a conclusion that it was up to him to “take a
plunge.”

Another thing that encouraged Mel in reaching
_, this decision -was the pessimistic gossip of certain Yale
chaps who were supposed to be authority on such
matters. Listening in his sneaky way, Dagett heard
these fellows confidentially saying among themselves
that Roberts had turned out a weak team, with which
Bally Bellows, the coach, was extremely dissatisfied.

“TDitson said it was a sure thing,” muttered Dagett.
_ “T might as well make a haul on a sure thing. There’s
no tisk. - I wouldn’t take Dunc’s estimation of the
- chances as correct if it were not a fact that better men
think the same way. Ten per cent. a month is pretty
good money, but when a fellow can double his coin
on a sure thing he’s a fool not to do it.”

Even after he had arrived at this point, even after
he ‘sought and found Spofford for the purpose of
_ placing money in the hands of the “go-between,” Mel
hesitated.

- What do you think, Sport?’ he aniencrdlt with
a friendly. leer. “Do. you think it’s safe? Do you
think it’s sure?” |

“Aw, g’wan!” growled Spofford, ‘eiles the short
sien of a well-smoked cigarette. “It’s pretty safe,
but dere ain’t nuttin’ sure. See! It’s a dead-sure
ting dat you can’t bank on anyt'ing in dis world
*oept death and taxes.”
«Qh, that’s where you're mistaken, ‘old chap,”
grinned Dagett conceitedly.
of sure things yesterday. Loaned some friends
at ten per cent. a month.” ig aid

is ~The sa laughed: derisively.

   
 
  
 
  
  
     
     
     
    
   
   
   
   
   
    
     
     
     
       
          
      
   

     
     
 

money

mtn ipa FO a pT IR RN TE NII “C

WEEKLY.

“Mebbe you tink loanin’ money dat way is a stire |
ving!” he rasped. “Mebbe you'll find out dat you're 4),
off your trol’.” -

“Not on your life. I was careful to take bid

_security. If they fail to pay, I can raise a good deal
more than the amount they owe. In fact, I’ve done
that now.” |

“I got hold of a couple.

 

“You have?” |
“Sure.” Load
“How ?” |
‘Well, you see, it’s this way. I haven’t any place
to keep all their truck, so I sacked it over to my uncle
and soaked it. I know it’s safe, for I’ve got the tickets.
[’'ll have to pay pawnbroker’s interest, but at that I’m
making a good thing. And if they fail me they can
redeem their own stuff.”
Spofford regarded Mel with increasing admiration.
“Mebbe I didn’t size you up just right at first, me .
friend,” he admitted.. “I see you’re rudder slick.” ae
Dagett swelled like a suddenly inflated bladder. _ |
“Business is business,” he said wisely, ‘but specula-
tion is something else. This taking chances on that”
relay race is speculation.”

“But der feller dat speckerlates and does it right is
der one dat makes der big hauls.”
“That’s right,’ nodded Mel.
il—-—” ct
“Take it from me, me friend, dat, ’cordin’ to all

signs, dis udder business looks like a cinch,”
“Would you advise me to risk something ?”’

-“T never gives no advice to me customers,” replied —
Sport, astutely and cautiously. “Den dey can’t come
back on me if somet’ing does happen to go wrong.
All de same, if I had plenty of coin I might put up a
few plunks on dis gag meself.” es y)

That settled it with Mel. Producing his pocket-
book, he counted out fifty dollars and handed it over —
to Spofford.

“Get that up tor me on the Harvard team, will
you?” 4
“Sure,” nodded Sport, his eyes bulging as he ob- —
served the money that remained in that pocketbook. —
“But why don’t you make it a hundred ’stead of fifty?
Even if you was to lose a hundred, it wouldn’t hoit —
you much—but I don’t t’ink you'll lose,” he hastily
added.

After hesitating awhile, Dagett counted off another
fifty. ,

“Well, there you are,” he alton relinquishing his
hold on the money with reluctance and regret. ty

“Dat’s where yon shows yer -sportin’-blood, old

 

;

 

“Now, if you think oe

 

   

 

As
  

TLE FO?

pal,” flattered Spofford. “But I has = have me com-
mission. Don’t fergit me commission.”
or “Oh, don’t I pay that after I win?”
| “Not on yer photograph. I takes me commission in
advance. See!”

“But what if you don’t re the money?

“Den I pays it back to yer.”

“And don’t I get any security ?”’

“Any wat?’ rasped the go-between derisively.
“Say, w’at do yer take me fer? I’ve gut a reperta-
tion, I have. If you doubt me honesty, I don’t do no
business wit’ you. No man ever knowed Sport Spof-
ford to do him dirt. Give yer security? Well, dat

makes me laugh! T’ink I’ma fool? If I was to give

yer security, and you lost der bet, you might hold der
“security. Where would I git off?”

“Don’t talk. about losing,” sibilated Mel nervously.

“I don’t like to hear you talk that way. Perhaps I’d
; better take my money back.”
| “So you’re a quitter?” derided the betting-agent.
“And I'd jest begun to t’ink yer had red blood in yer
body. You can have yer money back, but don’t never
come ’round me no more. Arter Harvoid wins and
yer see der rest of der bunch flourishin’ der long green,
you'll go out in some back alley and kick yourself.”
In actual distress, Mel faltered on the brink. He
| glanced slyly, sneakily at his companion, and permitted
| his eyelids to droop quickly, for Spofford was regard-
ing him with open disdain and contempt. Neverthe-
less, the agent had made no move to return Dagett’s
cash. ,

“Oh, ’'m no quitter,” Mel suddenly hissed, in. great
resentment; “only I thought you were doubtful of the
result by the way you talked. I’ll stand for it. Put
up the dough for me.”

 

 

    

 

   
  
  
  
    

“And me commission—don’t fergit me commis-
§
sion.”

  
 

“How much is it?”
“On a hundred it’s ten dollars.”
“Whew !” gasped the Eten saad chap.
pinching some.’
- *Dat’s ten per cent. Der same as you git in yer
- own business, ’cordin’ to yer talk made a few minutes
ago.” ;
“But it’s too much. It’s too much for the work.
Five dollars ought to be enough. I'll give you five.”
“You'll give me der reg’lar commission or I don’t
_ do no biz for yer. See!”
It was like pulling teeth, but Dagett finally extracted
two more five-dollar bills from his pocketbook and

   

“That’s

  
    
   
 
   
   
   
   
 
  
 

   

him. Merriwell can run.

   

WEEKLY,

slowly passed them over.

_ With a deep sigh, he closed
the “calfskin” and returned it to his pocket.

“Tf I lose this,’’ he muttered,
lation.

“it'll be my last specu-
I’ll stick to what I know is a sure thing.”

CHAPTER IX.

THE DEADLY NEEDLE.

In great haste Rufe Robinson came lumbering up
the stairs and burst like an alarmed bull into Duncan
Ditson’s room.

He found Ditson and Pickering there.

“Why don’t you take the door off the hinges!” ex-
claimed Duncan. “You charged it like a forward
bucking the line.”

“Say, say,” spluttered Rufe, “have you heard e

“Heard what?”

“About Merriwell.”

“About Merriwell!’’ mocked Dunc.
enough about him. What is it now?”

“Roberts has him. Roberts has

“Well, Roberts can keep him.
him.”

“Hold on,” said Pickering, rising to his feet and
standing like a long chalk-mark against the wall.
“What do you mean, Rute, by saying Roberts has
him?”

“For the relay team.”
For a moment or two it seemed that neither Ditson
nor Pickering fully comprehended the meaning of
those words. Directly it soaked through their minds,
both chaps started at Rufe, Ditson seizing him by the

shoulder.

“What’s this you’re trying to tell us?” he cried.
“You don’t mean to say-——”

“T mean to say,” explained Robinson excitedly, “that

“T’ve heard

 

Nobody else wants

i

Cal Roberts has nailed Dick Merriwell for the relay _ 3

team.”

“Really !’ pumped Pickering.

“This is no joke!” roared Rufe. “We're liable to
find out to our sorrow that it’s no joke. Stop and
think, you fellows. Merriwell may stop the weak gap —
on the team.”

“Look here,” said Dunc, “there must be some mis-
take. Why, Merriwell quit training with the end
of the football season.
to save himself for baseball.
his mind ?”

“Because Roberts wants him,

Why should he change
Because he needs

dred chaps express wonder over his speed. Remem-

He has said he was going ‘

Why, I’ve heard a hun- —
 

 

 

 

 

TIP TOP

20

ber his great run in the Harvard game after he’d
been battered and bumped and hammered ail over the
me held.” 7
“A spasmodic dash,” said Ditson. “That’s no sign
he’s a runner.”’
“But he 7s a runner, just the same.”
“He is °”
AS “You bet.”
phe “How do you know so much?”
. “You should hear what Roberts thinks. Why, Rob-
-. erts says he can distance any man in college.”

“T don’t know that Roberts’ estimation is so wise.
‘He thinks he can size up runners, but he hasn’t made
much of his team.”

“The squad was out on the road yesterday. Merri-
well and Jones were out, too. Coming in, Roberts
hooked onto Merriwell and tried to show hiny up.
Roberts was the one who was showed up. Mer-
riwell pushed him to his limit, and then ran away
from him as if he was standing still. ‘Oh, that’s right.
There’s no question about it. Roberts acknowledges
it himself. He told Bellows, and then they got onto
Merriwell’s neck, and right now, this very minute,
Merriwell is out with the team. That means one thing
and only one—he’ll be in that relay race. Linscomb
won't run. Our sure thing is looking wabbly, fel-
lows. We may lose.”

 

  
  
  
   

“Curse that man Merriwell!” snarled Ditson. “He

always bobs up at the wrong time.”
* “Tf he’s in that race,” said Pickering, with solemn
; conviction, “we'll lose. Yale will win. It’s Merriwell
~ luck, a s a topper, and he always comes out at the
apex.”
“But I don’t ‘snes it yet-—-I don’t believe it yet!”
grated Duncan. “Let’s find out if this is true. Come
on, fellows. At the most, we might hedge.”

  

_ On the campus they found a little knot of chaps dis-
_ cussing the coming meet at Mechanics’ Hall, and they
- paused to listen.

99

_ “We ought to win on\points,” a stout sophomore
was saying. “I’ve figured it st on paper, and I don’t
_ see how Harvard can do us.’

_ “We have a better show since Roberts has picked
up Merriwell for the relay team,” asserted another.

  

“But who knows what Merriwell can do?” inquired

a doubter. |

_ “Who knows what he can do?” laughed the stout
sophomore. “He seems to do most anything he tries.

some one must have believed Harvard had a cinch on

  

WEEKLY.

looking for Yale money. I caught him for twenty
myself.” |

“And it’s a hundred to one,’ chuckled a knowing
chap, “that you put your money against Yale money.
Some fellow who. didn’t want it known that he was
betting against his own college employed Spofford in
Whoever he is, he ought to get stung
good and proper.”

Ditson pushed into the circle.

“Ts it a sure thing that Merriwell will be on the
relay team?” he inquired.

this business.

“Unless he gets sick or dies,” was the answer. “He |
didn’t want to run, but he’s been forced.” ,
“Then I shail bet on Yale!” exclaimed Dunc. “Up |

to date I’ve kept my money in my jeans.”

He was followed by Robinson and Pickering as he

‘sauntered away. As soon as they were far enough
from the group to be beyond ear-shot Robinson splut-
tered :

“You see I was right.

“Not yet, perhaps,” said Dunc.
Roberts myself.
You fellows leave it to me.”

We're in the soup.”

thing.

When the runners came in, flushed, clear-eyed, light-
footed, Ditson succeeded in getting a word with the |

captain of the relay team. Mbt

“T hear good news,” he said. “I understand Merri- “
well has come out for the team. Is that right?” as

“Well,” smiled Roberts contentedly,
actly come out; he was pulled out.”

“But you'll have hin?” yt:

OY ES

“And you think he’s good enough for the team ?”

“Good enough! Wait and see. oe 11 open a few
sleepy eyes.. That’s all I have to say.” |) |

That was enough for Duncan Ditson. He lost little i!
time in reaching the room of Harold du Boise.

Yellow. and jaundiced,, Du Boise was shrunk in the -
arms of a huge easy chair like a shriveled banana.
seemed to be ina dreamy, comatose state, from which
he was aroused by Duncan’s hand on his shoulder, -

Slowly he turned his eyes toward the visitor, and then, ‘

with an effort, aroused himself and pushed ug in ha
chair. a ea

“How are you, old fellow ”’ he Ramer “What
time is it? I was just thinking. Where are my ciga-
rettes ?”

“He felt round in an aimless manner until he found
a package of cigarettes. Hands on his hips, Duncan
stood grimly waiting for Hal to strike a light. —
Du Boise scratched a match, waited for it to blaze

 

“I’m going to see
I’m going to make sure about this —

“he didn’t ex-

ty
£ lng

He —

ne

a oe See oS, Ree

as

eee

 

hi

 

 

et ee ae

 

 

        
     
         
     
     
       
         
       
 
   
    
  

 
    
       
       
 
       
      
    
     
   
  

 
  
  

  

  

 

Tae

 

up, slowly and lingeringly lighted the cigarette, and
then dropped the still burning match on the rug be-
neath his feet.

| “You'll set the place afire!”
| a foot on the match

growled Dune, putting
and extinguishing it.
“T’ve just been on a trip to Venice,” breathed Du
Boise, filling his lungs and slowly exhaling the smoke
as he spoke. “Venice is a city of dreams, you know.
I was floating down the Grand Canal in a gondola.
There were beautiful palaces on either hand, and far
away the sunshine sifted over an arched bridge like
powdered gold. I heard beautiful music, and J-——
_ What am I saying ?”

“That’s what I’d like to know!” exclaimel the puz-

 

 

zled visitor. ‘What's the matter with you? Are vou
y ¥y
il] ?”
Sn, NO,’ * hastily assured Harold, apparently ma-
PI y

king another effort to arouse himself. ‘Don’t mind

me. I’m given to day-dreaming.”
| “Well, you want to wake up from your day-dreams

You have a stern reality

} and come back to earth.
I want to tell you some-

to face. Collect your wits.
thing. Are you ready?”
“Fire away,” invited Du Boise.
a “Merriwell has been impressed onto the relay team.
| He'll be in the race at Mechanics’ Hall.”
Then Dune waited for the full significance of
| this statement to dawn on Du Boise. It required some
e moments, but at last it spurred Hal to lean forward
in his chair and inquire:
_ “How did you learn this ?” |
“T have it straight from Roberts himself. Do you
know what it means? It means that the chances are
‘now even, or more than even, that Yale will win.”
Harold took another long pull at the cigarette.
“Isn't it possible you overestimate that fellow’s
importance?’ he asked.
“Tf you think so, just survey his record since he hit
this college. He’s been a winner at everything.”
“But that can’t last. He has to lose some time, you
know.”

 

 

  
   
 
 
 
  
  
  
 
  
   
  

“He'll strengthen the relay team enough to make it
a winner. Mark what I say. You know what that
means to us. Come, wake up, Du Boise. We've 7
got to do something. We can’t afford to drop our
i good money like this. Do your sleeping nights.”

With a reluctant effort, Harold rose from the chair.
“Sit down,” he invited, motioning the visitor to a
_ particular seat. “Tl rejoin you in a minute, and we'll
talk this matter over.”

  
    
   

  

TOP WEEKLY.

“We’ ve got to do something, Du Boise.”

Du Boise entered this alcove, and
Duncan heard him moving about softly.
position Ditson could not look into the
his companion.

drawn portiéres.
From his
alcove and see
But it happened that his eyes fell on
‘a long mirror which was so placed that it revealed
Du Boise standing in front of a dresser. He had
opened a small drawer and taken from it some ar-
ticles, which were now placed before him on the
dresser. There was something so anxious and eager
in his movements that Ditson was strangely impressed
and leaned forward to watch. He could not see what
Harold was doing with his hands, but after a few mo-
ments the fellow turned, slipped off his coat, unbut-
toned the cuff at his left wrist, and pushed up his
sleeve.

Eyes popping, breath suspended, the visitor missed
no movement as revealed by the mirror.

Having thrust back his sleeve, Du Boise turned to
the dresser and took up something with his right hand.

It was a hypodermic syringe!

“Great heavens!” breathed Dunc.

With a certainty of movement that told of long
practise and expertness, Du Boise inserted the needle
in his arm without even the twinge of a facial muscle.
After a moment he withdrew the needle, returned the
syringe to a little case on the dresser, and with his
handkerchief wiped a tiny drop of blood from his arm.
Following this, he closed the case, returned it to the
dresser drawer, locked the drawer, and slipped the
key into his pocket. Then he coolly rolled down his
sleeve, buttoned the cuff, and donned his coat.

A marvelous change had taken place in Du Boise
when he again appeared before the visitor. A faint
tinge of color had mounted to his cheeks, his eyes had
brightened, and the shrunken, shriveled appearance
was no longer his. The metamorphosis seemed magic-
al. It was as if one person had entered that alcove
and another issued therefrom.

Ditson was paler than Du Boise, but he pretended
that he had seen nothing. Nevertheless, in spite of
himself, he shrunk with aversion from the victim of a
self-invited, subtle, and deadly destroyer. In some in-

terior chamber of his being he felt a shuddering as

if his very soul shook with the horror of it.

“I must have been asleep before you dropped in, —
old fellow,” smiled Harold.
to wake up occasionally, What were you telling me
about Merriwell? He’s on the relay team? And you~
say you have it from Roberts ?’

“That’s what I told you,” ’said Duncan hha. s

 

“It takes: me some time

 

    
 

22 AA: GEP

“Of course we have. But what can we do?”

“The first thing is to see Spofford.”’

“That’s right. We must hunt him up right away.
Wait a minute till I get my top-coat.”

Hal returned to the alcove, while Duncan, unable
to sit still longer, rose and paced the floor.

“A dope-fiend!” he mentally cried. “By Jove, I
never dreamed it! I thought it was drink. I thought
it was absinthe. If he isn’t brought up with a round

turn, he’s as good as gone to perdition.”

Harold reappeared, buttoned his overcoat, and be-
gan pulling on his gloves. —

“Wonder where we can strike Spofford at this
hour?” he said. “The fellow is hard to find by day
unless he’s out looking for bets.”

“Don’t you know where he lives?”

“No one knows where he lives.
anywhere in particular.”

It so happened that they had little trouble in locating
Sport Spofford. They found him breasting a bar,
talking to a cheap-looking, sporty companion.

“It looks like a cinch fer anybody dat wants to
gamble,” he was saying. “Dis Yale team ain’t no

_. good. I’m givin’ it to yer as a tip, old man, dat you'd

better put your money on der Harvoids. You know
dere’s always lots of Yale softies dat’s ready to back
dere own team on principle. I can point out a whole
bunch of ’em fer yer.”

Du Boise gently tapped the speaker on the shoulder.

“Better change your dope on that, old man,’ he
said. “There’s something new in the wind.”

“Why, hello!” exclaimed Spofford, nodding to Hal »

and Dunc. “Here’s a couple of real sports. Lemme
put you next to my friend McGinty. Mac, dese are
real bloods, if dey are college chaps. Dis is Mr. Du
Boise, and dis udder one is Mr. Kitson.”

“Ditson,” corrected Dunc, giving McGinty a nod
and failing to see the proffered hand. :

The betting-agent turned to question Harold.

“W’at’s dat you fired at me right off der reel when
you comes in? I didn’t quite catch.”

“I said you’d have to change your dope on that re-
lay race,” .
“W’at fer?” :
“The Yale team has been strengthened.”
“°’Cordin’ to der way you figgered it yesterday, dey
_ain’t gut der timber to make ’em strong enough. Der
-Harvoids will do ’em any old how.”
_ “That was the way we figured it yesterday,’”’ admit-
ted Harold. “But we’ve changed our minds to-day.

- ce ee
% soe an aye A re ee te er

WEEKLY.

I doubt if he lives”

   
 

   

4 Fath %y
is

 

 

 

We want to call in that cash we gave you, unless we
decide to place it the other way.”

“Dat’s too bad,” said Sport, with a grin. “I’m :
sorry about dat.” : b
“Sorry ?” h
“Sure.” an
“Why ?” ma
“Yer a little too late. I’ve gut der stuff up, every ee
dollar of it, on der Harvoids.” ‘

CHAPTER X.

“SHYLOCK” IS SHAKEN.

 

They were two sad, dejected, desperate-looking
chaps as they returned across the campus in the gath-
ering twilight of a dull day of early winter. The
lowering clouds, which threatened a storm, were no

In

 

darker than the clouds hovering o’er their faces.
their plotting hearts a storm was brewing.

An ungainly, awkward figure came rushing toward he t
them with froglike jumps from the direction of Dur- ‘ tf
fee. It was Dagett, his big mouth open, his green Be
eyes wabbling from side to side in flickering excite. | «
ment,

“Been looking for you, been looking for you!” he
hissed. “It'll bump you when you hear it. We've got
to do something. I tell you we’ve got to do something.
Oh, by smoke, it’s awful! And you're to blame!” he
snarled, shaking one pudgy, floppy hand in Duncan’s
face—“‘you’re to blame. You led me into it. Only
for you I'd never thought of it. Drat ye, I'll make
ye pay if I lose! You're a fool, Ditson! You said it
was a sure thing.”

Du Boise surveyed the agitated fellow from head t
heels. |

“Go away,” he said mildly. “You're a nuisance,
Dagett. You're a coarse-grained, big-mouthed crea -
ture.’

“Tm not talking to you,” sibilated'Mel, “I’m talk-
ing to Ditson.”’

“Du Boise has expressed my sentiments,” said Dun.
can warmly. “Close that bullfrog face of yours and
stop waving your paws in the air. You're attracting
the attention of every one. What’s the matter with
you? Having a fit?”

“Why shouldn’t I have a fit?” spluttered Mel. “T
took your advice. .I bet on the Harvard relay team.”

“You did?”

“Yes, I did, fool that I was!”

A slow, malicious smile slipped across the face of

Harold du Boise. pees!

  
  

 

 
   
   
   
  

    
     

 

            
        
       
       
      

  

  

   
TIP

  

“Well, that’s one grain of comfort,” he murmured.

“I put up a hundred dollars,” Mel whispered hus-
kily—“a hundred good dollars!) And now Mertiwell
is going to run on the team. ee you haven’t
heard of it before? Well, a fact. Roberts has
him, and old Balley is ee "He's told it confiden-
tially that Merriwell will make the team a winner.
_ My money’s gone. If you’ve put up any money, that’s
gone. We’re both in a hole. What are you going to
do?”

tv

sl eel

Blessed Jones passed near at hand and gave them a
queer, solemn look which seemed to have something
| Of amusement in it despite its solemnity. “I don’t
| care if you've lost a hundred dollars, you grinder of
the poor and needy. I hope you have lost it, you Shy-
« lock.”
) “But Pll tell—I’ll tell,”
|. “What’ll you tell?”

| . “ll tell how you made a pool to bet against our
team. You know what will be thought of you if that
. _ becomes public.”

 

threatened Dagett.

| “But you won't tell,” said Ditson confid ently.
“You'll keep your mouth closed. You bet a hundred

Br yourself, as you've just acknowledged. There’s only

i one thing for you to do, and that is keep still. Har-

- -vard may win, anyhow.” c

fe “But Merriwell—_—’’

“Cut it out, cut it out. I’ve heard enough about

| Merriwell. Keep away from me until you are in a
_ more decent and polite mood.”

 

Ditson and Du Boise passed Dagett, in spite of his
spluttering and protesting, and proceeded on their
way. !

In the meantime Blessed Jones, having cedaea the
| campus, hurried along the street on the way. to his
j Be room. Arriving there, he was surprised to find Mer-
ed tiwell huddled close to the window in order to get
| the light, and buried so deep in study that he did not
look up from the page of his book. !

 

  

danger,” croaked Blessed. “Have a care lest thou
é in jure it. Says Dick, wish you’d been with me a few
“minutes a BOs) / /

 
 

_ “What happened a few minutes ago? ’ asked Mer-
- riwell, deciding to heed Jones’ warning in pEBr Es to
the light.

“Coming across the campus.

  

  

Saw three of our

  

TOP” WEEKLY.

“For Heaven’s sake, shut up!” snapped Duncan, as -

is something else.

ay say unto thee verily, verily thy eyesight is in

esteemed and highly beloved classmates—-Du Boise,

the same letter. They ‘were enjoying ‘themselves.
Dagett was all 'spraddled out, waving his flippers in
the air and hissing like a boa-constrictor. Evidently
he was giving the other two D’s blisters and brim-
stone. I heard him say something about losing money,
and he told Ditson that they were both in a hole.”

“Are you seeking to arouse my sympathy ?”’ laughed
Merriwell. “Is that your game, Jones?”

“Say, if I caught you wasting any sympathy on
that bunch, I’d—I’d—I'd kick you! I would, so help
me. Wonder what ails them now? Wonder what
they’ve been into ?”’

“Oh, into one of Du Boise’s little poker-games, pos-
eee:

“Somehow, I don’t think so. Somehow, I think it
Don’t know Don’t -care.
Never mind. I hope they all bump on the rocks and
have to take a long vacation from Yale. They’d never
be missed, any one of them. They were the only
gloomy chaps I saw to-day. Everybody else feels fine.
Everybody seems to know you're going to run at
Mechanics’ Hall. It’s braced the fellows up. I hear
some of the sporty chaps are betting on that race now.

what.

You've heard of Spofford? Somebody loaded him ae

with good money to back the Harvard relay team.”

Dick was struck by an idea.

“Perhaps our friends, the three D’s, did that,” he
smiled, as Jones lighted the gas. ,

Blessed dropped the burning match and stood with
his jaw drooping.

“Thou hast hit it!” he cried.
what a joke!”

And Jones actually laughed aioatt in a dry, eo
manner.

“Oh, great Absalom,

 

CHAPTER XI.
THE WRONG LEG,

With hands buried deep in his trousers pockets,

_Duncan Ditson stood watching the swimmers in the -

tank. The splashing, shouting, laughing lads were

enjoying themselves in the water, but there was no
trace of enjoyment on the face of the fellow who —

watched. ~

Merriwell appeared, lithe, supple, clean-limbed, and
pink-skinned. Running up the steps, he poised him-
self, with hands uplifted and pressed above his head.

As he stood thus for a brief moment he was the picture _
of radiant, healthy youth on the verge of manhood. —
Slowly’ his body swung forward and then headlong —
downward he shot, cleaving the water like an arrow as’

      
 
    
    
   
  
 
  
  
  
     
 
  
  
 
  
    
    
  
  
 
 
  
   
  
   
    
   
   
   
   
  
   
    
      
       
         
        
    
      
     
     
24 Pie oO Le.
he disappeared from view into the deepest part of the
tank.

“Hey! hey! you marine monster,’ shouted a swim-
mer, as Dick came up. “What are you trying to do to
me?”

There was a grapple in the water, much splashing
and laughing, both lads disappearing and reappearing
with holds broken. ; ;

The expression on Ditson’s face had changed. It
was plain that in his mind the germ of a thought was
developing swiftly. In a few moments he smiled the
least bit as if pleased by the development of a promis:
ing idea. Leaving the gymnasium, he crossed the
street on the way to the room of Du Boise, where he
hoped to find Hal. |

He was not disappointed.

To his surprise Du Boise was walking the floor,
book in hand, as he studied. His eyes were clear, and
he seemed to detect something of interest in Ditson’s
face as the latter appeared.

_ “What’s cheered you up?” asked Hal.
thing encouraging?”

“There’s no one else here?’ questioned Dunc, look-
ing around.

“Not a soul.” »

“T have a scheme. Now, listen, Du Boise, and see
if you don’t think this can be worked. With Merri-
well unable to run in that relay race, we’re almost sure
of winning our bets.” :

“That’s acknowledged in advance.”

“Then we must see that he doesn’t run.”

Du Boise made a slow gesture of helplessness.

“Tc like to have you is me how we can do that.”

“I’m going to tell you,’ ’ whispered Duncan. “I’ve
heard of such a trick being performed, and I’m ready
to try it. All I want is a hypodermic syringe contain-
ing some sort of stuff that will paralyze a man’s leg,
arm, or any part of his body. If you'll furnish the
_ sytinge and the stuff, I'll agree to get it into Merri-
ewell’s leg”

3

“Fleard any-

protested Du Boise;
You can do
that as well as I. I suppose drug-stores carry them,
don’t they?” - |
_ For a moment Duncan was fanieeen to tell the fel-
ae that he knew, but his better judgment restrained
him. .

Pi Tt I do ies part of this iol: you must do yours,
Hal,” he said. “I’ve given you the. easiest task.
You're taking a course in chemistry, aren’t you? You
pet to know something about drugs.”

“But a hypodermic syringe,”
“T don’t know where you can gét one.

Teg,

WEEKLY.

After a moment Du Boise admitted :

“T do know something about them, but just now I
can’t think of any single drug or combination of drugs
which, injected into a man’s leg, would paralyze it.
You see it wouldn’t do to ask for such a thing of a
druggist. He’d come back with some unpleasant ques-
tions. He’d want to know the use to which the stuff
would be put. But if I can find the syringe and pro-
vide the stuff to use, how are you going to use it?”

“Merriwell takes a plunge in the swimming- -tank
every day,”

“Go on.”

“The day before he starts with the team for ‘Bos-
ton I’ll be in the tank myself. There’s lots of horse-
play goes on in that tank. Men scuffle and duck one
another. It doesn’t seem to me that it should be so
very hard to soak the contents of a hypodermic
syringe into a man’s leg in the tank. I’m ready to
try it. Now you see I’ve agreed to do the most dan-
gerous and difficult part of this job. All I ask of yan
is to furnish me with the material.”

“Give me time to study up on this thing,” said Du
Boise. “If there’s anything that will do the work, Pll :
find out what it is. I ought to find out by to- morrow. :

Late the following day they were again together in
that room. Duncan looked at his companion with anx-
ious, inquiring eyes. |

“Have you got it?’ he questioned.

“The very thing,’ nodded Hal, as he produced a-
tiny wooden case from his pocket and unscrewed the
cap. “Here’s the little syringe loaded with the stuff
that'll do the business. Aren’t hypodermics funny?
I never saw one before. Do you know how to use it,
Ditson ?” : ! .

“Why, I suppose you jab in the needle and press the
bulb.”’ ae

“T suppose so, but I should say you must.be care-_
ful to drive the needle in full length. It'll be quite a
trick if you pull it off successfully. The stuff will
not do the man any permanent injury, but it will knock —
him out for two or three days.” ?

“You're sure—-you’re sure?’ breathed Dunc eagerly.
assured Harold.

ah

“There’s no question about it,
“But you mustn’t be caught.”
Pll look out for that.

“Give it to me. The mo-

ment I drive that, stuff into Merriwell I’ll drop the 5

It'll sink. No matter if they do find it on
Théy’ll never know

syringe.
the bottom of the tank some time.
who br ought it there.”

Du Boise returned the loaded hypodermic to the

 

 

 

 
 

 

 

   
  
 
   
  

 

 

| number of very anxious fellows.

 

aa te

case, screwed on the cap, and surrendered the terrible
thing to his companion. —

The day before the Yale men were to start for Bos-
ton, Merriwell and Roberts, together with several
others, were enjoying a plunge in the tank. Ditson
had appeared in the tank regularly for the last few
days. He was there now.

Roberts and Merriwell engaged in a friendly scuffle
near the center of the tank. Suddenly one of them
uttered a sharp cry of surprise and pain,

Duncan Ditson rose to the surface at the far end -

of the tank, and climbed out by the steps. Looking

_ back, he saw Merriwell and Roberts swimming in that

direction.

“I tell you something sharp like a needle stuck me in
the leg,” Roberts was saying. “Felt as if I’d been
stung.”

Wi ith a whispered curse of disappointment, Ditson
turned away toward the dressing-rooms.

CHAPTER XII.
THE RACE.

The great crowd in the galleries at Mechanics’ Hall
roared as Pickering, of Harvard, took the finals in

the hurdle-race.

Although fully twenty colleges and schools were
represented in the different events, the interest of the

_ spectators centered on the struggles between Yale and
- Harvard.

In the shot-put, the high jump, the dashes,
and other contests the two colleges had come forth
about even. Pickering’s feat put Harvar d to the front.

“Everything depends on the relay team now,” said

Walter Billings, clapping Mart Hurlburt on the shoul-

der with a nervous hand. “Do you think the boys can
do it? Do you think they have a chance?”
Hurlburt looked doubtful.
“With Roberts out of the race, it looks bad for us,”
he confessed. “Wonder what ails Roberts’ leg, any-
how? It’s swollen and so helpless that he can barely
hobble around on a cane.’

“Fe swears something happened to it in the swim-

‘ming-tank, though I’m inclined to believe he must have
sustained a strain or a wrench of some sort.

Merri-
well may save us.”
Still the face of Yale’s great football captain wore

a pessimistic expression.

“Merriwell might have saved us had nothing hap-

pened to Roberts, » he agreed ; “but now the team is no

stronger than it was before Merriw ell was taken on.’
Among the Yale spectators in the balcony were a
Needless to say,

 

   
   
  
  

 

 

 

they were Ditson and his particular set, including Mel
“aoe Dagett.
4% still, but constantly squirmed and twisted on his seat,

_ while his ugly hands fumbled with each other.
there: was hope’in his heart, for he, like every one else,
_knew that Roberts would not be in the race.

‘Dagett was so‘nervous that he could not sit

Still,

‘The hour had grown late, but still: the crowd lin-

af

 

   

   

WEEKLY: 25
gered, realizing that the most exciting event of the
evening would be near the close, when the rélay teams
of the two great colleges should fight for victory.

The time came at last. The contestants, the starters,
the timekeepers, and the judges were ready for busi-
ness. The two men to lead off, Perry, of Yale, and
Stackpole, of Harvard, lined up at the starting-mark.

The band struck up a lively air.

The starter was seen to speak and then lift the pis-
tol above his head.

Bang!

“They? re off!”

At the crack of the pistol the two runners leaped
ahead, Perry getting a-slight advantage on a wonder-
fully quick start. Round. the track they went, and
on the very first sharp shoulder the Harvard man lost
a few yards more.

“Go it, Perry!”

“Good boy!”

“Yale! Yale! Yale!’

The blue was fluttering wildly from the eastern bal-
cony.

Once round and Perry thirty feet in advance. On -
the second lap Stackpole gained almost imperceptibly,
and then by a spurt forced Perry in the stretch. They
came down like equine racers, with Linscomb and
Ridgeway waiting, crouched, nerves taut, muscles
tense, each having a hand stretched backward for the
touch, each ready to leap into the running and do his
share.

Stackpole could not close the gap, and, therefore,
Linscomb dashed away nearly twenty feet ahead of
Ridgeway.

But Ridgeway was a great spurter, and ere a third
of the track had been covered he was shoulder to
shoulder with his opponent.

Linscomb saw the rival runner forge alongside. The
Yale man’s jaws hardened, and he pegged away a
little faster, yet without making anything that could be
called a spurt. In fact, there were no spurts in Lins:
comb. He ran with seeming heaviness, and those who
watched wondered that he should seem to hold his
own for a time.

Once round and then Ridgeway let beeen out.
took the lead and gained for a few brief moments.

Linscomb plugged along persistently and grimly,
while the crimson waved in a bank along the western
balcony and hundreds of voices thundered:

“Ridgeway! Ridgeway! Ridgeway!”

“Harvard! Harvard! Harvard!”

His shoulders hunched, his neck thrust forward, his
bullfrog mouth open, Mel Dagett grinned with faint —
satisfaction. a

“Now they’re doing it!” he hissed to himself.;
“Keep it up, you son of a gun, keep it up!”

But Ridgeway had done his best, and Linscomb’s:
persistence told, for the Harvard man was not far
ahead when they came tearing down the stretch, and e
the next two shot away. a

Gray and Aldridge were both pretty runners. The

He
  
   
   
   
 
  
    
   
  
  
   
      
     
   
   
   
         
     
         
   
   
       
       
     
       
     
   
   
   
   
    
     
       

   

26 TIP TOP
Yale man succeeded in holding his own the first time
round, although he disappointed many of his ad-
mirers by failing to cut down the distance lost. by
Linscomb. On the next lap, when half-way round,
Aldridge spurted, and Gray, who had delayed too
long, was unable to overtake him. Nevertheless, Yale
lost nothing, for they finished in almost identically
z the same positions.as they had started.
Now, it was Joyce and McKenzie.

The Yale man started out at once to recover lost
ground. Intuition must have told McKenzize this, for
the champion of the crimson fairly flew along the
straightaways and rounded the corner without slacking
a particle.

The corners bothered Joyce. He seemed to lose
courage there, for they pulled him up, and it was Mc-
_. Kenzie who gained.
| .-—s- “It’s all right!” palpitated Ditson, in the ear of Du
os Boise. “This settles it. Masters will never let Mer-

riwell take the race away from him after getting such

a lead. It’s doubtful if Merriwell could beat Masters

on an even start.”

Hal smiled faintly.

“IT think you saved our coin,”
if you did stab the wrong leg.”

There was dismay in the. Yale ranks as they saw Mc-

Kenzie widen the gap. A few discerning ones realized

that Joyce had lost heart on failing to cut down his

opponent’s lead at the outset. Dick Merriwell had
made no mistake in thinking Joyce a quitter.
Crouching at the starting-point, Merriwell looked
back over his shoulder, whispering to himself:
“Come on, Joyce-—come on, come on!”
: ,His. breast. heaving,. McKenzie dashed down: and
gave ‘the extended hand of Masters a slap.
Away went the Harvard man.
‘The Yale runner staggered down the stretch and
blindly touched Merriwell’s hand. |
. There seemed not one chance ina thousand for Yale
as Dick leaped in. pursuit: of Masters. Nevertheless,
there was not the slightest tinge of yellow in Dick’s
maké-up. He set his teeth, and his legs lifted him
with flying strides along the course. He was in the
face, and in it to stay until the finish. bios? ’
“Masters!” bellowed hundreds of voices.
Masters! Harvard wins!”
_. In the front row on the Yale side a tall, long-armed
chap rose and. waved his hands frantically in the air.
_ “Fly, thou winged-footed wizard!” he howled. “Go
it, Dick; you can make him hump, anyhow! Don’t let
him linger any !” |

Of course, in all that uproar Merriwell could not
distinguish. the words of Blessed Jones, but still some
thing seemed to lift him along with still greater speed,
_ and the watchers realized that he was beginning to cut
_ down Harvard’s. lead. © Still, not one in a hundred
fancied there was the slightest chance for him t to over:
take Masters. _

At the conclusion of the first lap the Yale man was
; some ‘twenty feet or more behind his opponent. The _

/

he murmured, ‘even
}

“Masters !

  

      
   
      
      

   

 
 

WEEKLY.

fact that he had made so much of a gain created uni-
versal astonishment. Still, the running-experts who
were present believed Masters was holding himself in
ready to show his best form in the last half of the
last lap.

Dick did not make the mistake of trying to hold
himself too long in reserve. He knew he must be =
close to Masters before the final stretch was reached, |
if he hoped to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat. ~

Not for a moment did Merriwell lose confidence in =|
himself. There was a roaring sound in his ears, and a a
sort of mist rose before his eyes. He felt as if a band

 

 

3

of iron were tightening about his chest and threatening é

to crush his ribs. Nevertheless, with his eyes on the

back of Masters’ head, he, continued to gain while i

the wildly excited Yale men screamed and shrieked like Bb

lunatics. bo
“He'll do it!” fa
“He can’t do it!” | :

“Tt’s marvelous!” ee
* “He’s a better man than Masters!” !

“Hurrah for Merriwell!” .
. The Harvard man was less than two yards ahead
of Dick as they turned the final corner. He had some
resetve force left, and he let it out at that point. Al-—
though he realized that he was being hard pressed, |
not for an instant did he dream that he was in actual
danger of losing the race. At the very last moment, —
just as he flung himself forward with confidence that —
victory was his, a form swept past him, and his aston: _
ished eyes told him Merriwell had crossed the line —
a foot or two in advance. He heard the Yale cheer
filling the building with a volume of sound that threat-
ened to lift the roof. He saw Merriwell seized and
hugged by delighted comrades. Then the arms of | —
friends supported Masters, of Harvard, or he would %
have fallen limp and heart-broken upon the track. ae

But there were no sympathizing friends to condole —
with the disloyal Yale men in the balcony.

THE END.

The Next Number (558) Will Contain

DICK MERRIWELL’S JOKE;

OR,

FUN WITH THE JUMPING FRENCHMAN.

 

Dick Dresses | ina Hurry—Dick Tells What & hopeless
Missing Trousers—A Deal in Clothing—Dick Pre-
sents His Bill—The Training that Tells—Smash :
‘Him!—Dick Visits Le Blon—A Brutal Act—The
Jump for Life—The Baseball—Like an Anarchist’s
Bomb—Cunningham Pays.
 

 

 

 

 

ov Anvideal Publ

 

 

 

 

 

NEW YORK, December 15, 1906.

 

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STREET & SMITH’S TIP TOP WEEKLY,
79-89 Seventh Avenue, New York City.

TIP TOP ROLL OF HONOR.

 

Following the suggestion of Mr. Burt L. Standish, that appeared
in his letter to Tip Top readers in No. 480, the following loyal Tip
Toppers have won for themselves a place on our Honor Roll for their
efforts to increase the circulation of the King of Weeklies. Get in line
boys and girls and strive to have your name at the head of the list,

Frank McCauley, Newark, N. J.
Harold R. Ivens, Chicago, III.
Richard Wayne, Kentucky.
Bertha J. O’Neil, Boston, Mass.
Jacob A. Klug, Buffalo, N. Y.
J. P. Coussens, Chicago. III.
Willie J. Carey, Pennsylvania.
G. C. Martin, Ont.
Roy [icLaughlin, [anitoba, Can.
William Bion, Chicago, III.

_ The names of other enthusiastic Tip Toppers will be added from

time to time. Send in the result of your efforts to push the circula-
tion of your favorite weekly and win a place on the Roll of Honor.

APPLAUSE.

| Owing to the number of letters received, the editors of Tip Top
cannot undertake to secure their publication under six weeks. ‘Those
who contribute to this department must not expect to see them before
that time,

2a Advertisements—A limited number of acceptable ad-
_ Vertisements will be inserted in the columns of TIP TOP WEEKLY,
at the rate of 50 cents per line, of about ten words each, nothing fess
than four lines taken, Remit by stamps, check or money ordet to the
‘publishers, :

 

 

/

I have spent some very pleasant hours with Tip Top, and I
anticipate many more pleasant hours of leisure to be spent with
my favorite weekly. I think the title an admirable one, and
quite justified in every way.
praise, as your earlier correspondents appear to have covered
the entire field. The new flock give me entire satisfaction, and,

in Sparkfair, Dick has got a worthy rival.” :
I hope my numerous correspondents will not misunderstand
my silence for the last few weeks, as I am too busy to answer

There is no need for further

WEEKLY. : 27

many letters at present, but hope to write you all again in the
future. Words fail to express my thanks to my many good
friends who have invited me to America, but I find it impossible
to accept your kind offers this year, as I am short of the “long
green.”

With kindest regards to author, readers, and all concerned,
I remain, yours faithfully, Jack WorsLEY.

14 Holderness Street, Todmorden, England.

It would surprise some people if we should publish the many
letters we receive from foreign lands. Tre Tor seems to reach
to the very ends of the earth, since it is a favorite even in
China, the Philippines, Australia, and South Africa. The
brotherhood of English-speaking lads is world-wide, and Tie
Tor pleases them all.

(A letter from Texas.)

Here are a few verses in honor of my favorite and sweetheart,
June:
“They plucked the stars from out the skies
To make the glory of thine eyes;
They took the rose, that honey drips,
To make the sweetness of thy lips.
They stole your soul from*land above,
And clothed you with the warmth of love,
And all the gold of every prayer
Was woven in your misty hair.
Your fragrant presencegJune, doth seem
The incense of a tender dream,
And all the goodness far or near
Is found within your person, dear.
“Yes, all the wealth of every clime,
And all the loves of every time,
And all the perfume of the flower,
With all the dreams of every hour,
And all the sunshine of the noon
Is centered in my sweetheart, June.”
Frep HANSEN.

The sentiment expressed by this correspondent is very grati-
fying, and must certainly please all of June’s friends, whose
numbers, we believé, are legion.

Having been a reader of the “king of all weeklies’ for three
years, I would like to say what I think about it. I like Frank’s
set best. I like Dale, but he can’t hold a candle to Frank or
Dick. It is my opinion that Mr. Standish knows what he is
doing, and he does not need any advisers. I have gotten five
boys and three girls to read it, and my news-dealer to sell it.
As I think I have taken enough of your time and space—if it
escapes the waste-basket—I will close with best wishes for .suc-
cess to Frank, Dick, Burt L., and Street & Smith.

Brooklyn, N. Y. F. Morret,

Good enough. And as those whom you influenced to read
Tie Top are apt to tell others when their enthusiasm breaks
bounds, you will have been the means of starting an endless
chain of readers, the circle of whose interest no man can tell.

Though I am one of the fortunate old readers of the best
weekly ever published, this is my first contribution to the Ap-
plause column. It is unnecessary for me to point out all the
good points of Trp Top here, as the readers of this column know,
them well enough. - Besides, notwithstanding the scarcity of—
adjectives in our language to describe the king of weeklies, if
I were to write down all I think and say of it, many, many
letters from other loyal Tip Toppers would be crowded out.

However, the stories speak for themselves, as I have found
out by introducing them among the most pessimistic of my
acquaintances. I take especially great pleasure in converting
the scoffers who disdain to read and look down upon all week-
lies as “worthless reading” and “yellow literature.” It is some-
times quite amusing to notice the remarkable change in’ the
most rabid of these scoffers after they have once read Tip Top.

Well, there are too many interesting letters waiting to be
published for me to make mine any longer, so I will cut this
one short. ;

Mr. Standish has my sincerest gratitude for the many pleasant
hours he has afforded me, and to everybody concerned in making

 
A friend of mine had some, and I read them.

friends to read the great Trp Top Werrxty magazine.

- Chester, and old Thurston Hoyt.

28 fy be LOE

I wish a long life and a
ALLEN.

Tie Top what it is, the king of weeklies,
happy one. / P.M.

New York City.

Another boy who feels that he has abundantly profited by
his devotion to Tip Top. We are especially interested in his
account of how he up cudgels for his favorite journal
whenever any one scoffs at it as a waste of time. And, like
all others, he finds that if he can only induce the scoffers to
tead one number the cure is complete, and Tre Top has made
another friend. We thank you for your letter.

(An Ode from Texas.)
CHIEFLY COMPLIMENTARY.
TO MY PALS,

takes

Frank is the grandest hero
Wisdom ever planned,

Because his noble deeds
Are at Burt L.’s command,

Bart, our dark-eyed laddie,
Frank’s friend since early youth,

Through all their trials together
We ne’er could doubt his truth.

Dick is a laddie brave

Whom we alt admire,

And reading of his noble deeds
I’m sure we'll never tire.

Brad is a Texas youth
Full of life and vim,

Though I live a thousand year's
I ne’er would tire o’ him,

Inza is a noble girl,
Our hero’s lovely wife,
And for her gallant lover
She would give her life.

Elsie, our own sweet girlie,

_ With eyes of tender blue,

Who loves our dark-eyed Bartley,
Ever stanch and true.

Here’s to little Frank, our baby,
Much love and a kiss,

For he has brought our hero
Such exquisite bliss. :

Here’s to Street & Smith,
And Burt L. while I have space,
I'll compliment your readers
On their exquisite taste.
Evita. Grey-EcErToN.

(A letter from Virginia. )

Tip Top is certainly a fine magazine.
them very long, because I did not know they were coming out.
fy I liked them so

much that I am buying them every week. I am in the country
now, but when I go home I am going to try to get one ay

thin

the best characters are Dale, Dick, Brad,*Joe, the Indian boy;
f I wish you would send me

a catalogue of your publications. :
ean Tip Top great success, I remain,
Lewis Me antadie.

he you have carried out your plans as outlined in your
i letter, write and let us know the result. We can prophesy that
success awaits you, Just as your friend found a convert in you,
“so ey may find in ay others. And so the good work Bore, on.

1 ,

. “a ave read Tre Tor toit two years, and now I feel I must
- say omething about it.
For some reason, I do not like him.
are: Flint, Dick,

I have not been reading —

I like all the characters except Smart. |
The ten best. characters’
Frank, Diamond, Wiley, Sparkfair, Darrell, |

WEEKLY.

Hodge, Young Crowfoot, arid” Carson. Both my father and

mother read them. The weekly was first brought to my notice —
by William Cottrell. Since then, I have induced many boys to.
read it. I would like to ask several questions: 1. Are there any
more Tip Top albums? 2.Is B. L. Standish any relation to

Hal, or Winn Standish, both of whom write stories similar to

Tip Top? 3. Are you still giving away Merriwell postals, and,

if so, may I have a set?

I read the Rough Rider Weekly, and think some time Ted
nught to meet Frank, With three cheers for Tie Top and Burt
L. Standish, 1 remain, WATSON BALLANTYNE.

Honolulu,

1. Yes, a few more left. 2, The other names are mere
noms de plume, taken evidently with the intention of having the
boys believe they are close connections of Burt L. Standish.
3. We have sent you the postals.

‘(A letter from New York State.)
I have been reading the Tie Top for some time, and I want
to state that I think it is the best weekly ever published. I, used
to read all the five-cent weeklies, but as I grew older my taste
for them changed.
Only Tip Tor has stood the test, and I think it is hetner than
ever.
Good old Tip Top! Good old Yale!
I have followed you over the edinent and have trailed you
all over the world. I have shared your victories, and have
shared your defeats. I have laughed at your jokes, ‘and i. Eas
thrilled with your jolly comradeship.
Merry, old man, you are an old friend of mine.
CirypE AUSTIN.

And we trust that, while you have been thus traveling along
the glorious road the Merries have taken, you never neglected et
preach the gospel of Trp Tor to your boy friends, anxious that.

Good old Merry boys!

others might share in the benefits you were receiving week in —

and week out. You have a great treat ahead of you, friend ©
Clyde, with Dick “tenting on the old camp-ground” at Yale.

(A letter from Virginia.) :
Having been a reader of your famous weekly, Tie Top, for i
about five years, I now write to express my gratitude. I think —
it is the best book that it has ever been’ my pleasure to read,
which is saying a great deal, for I have read a large number. AL-
though I have tried real hard to obtain the numbers from 260
to, 290, I have never been able to get them. I will close, hoping —
a long life to Street & Smith, Burt L. Standish, and all the rest.
I remain, a sincere admirer of Dick, and not of Dale,
JenniE D. Brown.

The only way you can obtain these numbers is to begin taking
the Merriwell stories in the Medal Library until they fill in the
“aching void.’ There are now over fifty numbers, and, as each’
contains several Tie Tors rearranged, they are now Senne K
those special stories you want.

(A etter from Mastiobx: Canada.) :

I think I have a good right . call you friend, for I cule
Tie Tor my best friend. Why, I do not know what I would do |
without good old Tie Tor. It is just three years since I started
reading the best paper in the world, and I do not think I have
missed a copy. That means I have spent about eight dollars «'
in Tip Top, and I am not a bit sorry. I have read all the Medal |
Libraries up to date, and am anxiously waiting for the next one. i,

When If started reading T1r Tor, it was given me by a cousin —
who lived in the city. This was before 1 came out West.
read it, and passed it on. My brothers read it, who were 12
and 8 respectively, and I think over sixty people read that paper.
I got a number of persons who read it to sign their names
saying that they would take it every week, so we got the news= "i
dealer to order forty copies to start w ith, and to-day he sells
many more copies than that. There are a great many disap-
pointed each Friday night, for we get the paper F riday morn
ing. That is in a town in Eastern Ontario. i
I have just finished reading No, 545, the best one ever printed
for, I think Tir Tor is getting better every week. I read about

where that reckless Chester Arlington ue sight in the a

AO ee ec i ng aaa

 

 
 

ae

top

 

bob EO

I feel
but
Tie

of a dying woman. 'I knew Chester would reform. Why,
so glad to think Chester has at. last come to his senses;
I think-we should give Richard Merriwell the credit. I like
Tor better every week.

I will close, giving three long cheers for editor and staff, and
also every member of both ball-teams; Frank and wife, Bart
and wife, and last, but not least, Chester.

Roy McLAuGHLin.

  

 

4 1

   

You are, indeed, a true Tip Topper, and we beg you to accept

our thanks, Roy, for the grand work you have done. Would
> > e . in toe

, that we had as faithful a friend in every Canadian town. Now

 
 
   
 

how the good work goes on apace. We are proud to place your
name among the especially favored few whom Tie Tor delights
to honor.

   
   
  

 

  

Having read Tie Top for many years, and never having ex-
pressed my admiration for it, it behooves me to sit down and
say a few things. Although I have outgrown my girlhood, and
- am now married, 1 have never outgrown my love for dear old
Tre Top, and shalf continue to read it as long as it is published,
I have saved all my numbers, intending that my little boy shall
peruse them when the time comes. The American youth should
_ feel proud because they have such a writer as Burt L. Standish
- to write the stories. ’
_ -I have induced the parents of several of my boy neighbors to
allow them to read from my file, and in one or two instances
have even gone so’ far as to read a number to some stubborn
mother. My home has become a sort of library for the young
men of the vicinity.
I like all the characters of Tir Top, both the good and bad.
- Dick and Dale are my favorites, however. I am anxiously wait-
ing for Dick to enter Yale this fall, and hope to see most of his
flock go with him, as he would have a hard time to find a truer
set of friends.

‘Trusting that you will excuse such a long letter, and asking
you to imail me a catalogue of all Trp Tops ever published, I am,
; , Hamline, Minn. A True Tip Topper.
_\ Another valuable and characteristic letter from a sensible
little mother who recognized long ago the benefits to be derived
- from reading Tie Tor, and is determined that her boy, and
other boys as well, shall derive good from the clean morals it
teaches. We thank her most cordially. Such letters must always
_be an inspiration.

  
 
  
 
 
  
   
    
  
  
  
  
   
 
   
    
  
    
    
 
   
  
   
    

_ For some months I, have been’ reading the king of weeklies,
ind declare it the best of boys’ magazines. I have induced
about 10 of my friends to read the Tip Top, and they think the
ame as I do about it. I think Mr. Standish’s stories are the
Ay? best athletic-stories I have ever read. I will continue to read it
aa oe praise it as long as it is ee oe and then I will never
forget it. Hoping that Frank, Dick, Brad, and all the rest, not
forgetting Mr. Standish, will continue for laa years, I remain,
y ur grateful reader, Wm. Bion.
Chicago, Ill.

We have sent you the catalogue as per your request; and we
also think your name would look well on our Roll of Honor,
“since any one who has gained Tip Top half a score of new
‘readers deserves well of us.

   
   
   
  
   
 
 
  
   
 
 
   

 

  
  

a Having read the Tip Top Werrxty Saari No. 1 to the present
issue, also all a in the Medal Library,:1 thought it time to
let you know what I think of such an educating book.
I think Tir Top is the best book published in the world, be-
cause it is a book for young and old, especially for growing
- boys; as it teaches them all the manly principles a young man
should have, and impresses them with the thought of growing
* into honest, trustworthy, and reliable men.
I think June is the girl for Dick, because in a former issue,
S Frank had taken Inza for his wife, Dick remarked if he
s in Frank’s place he would have taken Elsie, which shows
he likes a lovely, sweet girl like June.
- My favorites are as follows: Dick, Brad, Frank, Bart, June
Elsié, Inza, Doris, Joe Crowfoot, Ir. and Dale, including all
ne rest. What has become of the old flock—Ready, Griswold,
ones, and Mulloy?
: Sapa to see this letter in the Applause column, I close, with

  
    
   
   
  

  
  
   

         
      
    
   
   

  

  

  

you have a wider horizon, and we expect to hear further as to ©

 

WEEKLY. 29

three cheers for Burt L. Standish,
known, and Street & Smith.

New York City.

That is just what Tie Top is intended to be, and has been for
years, am ever-present help to boys at a time when habits, good
or bad, are forming. ‘Thousands confess that they owe much
to its manly teachings.

the greatest writer ever
Wma. R. MciIntosx.

(A letter from Michigan.)
Having watched the Applause for some time, and not seeing

anything from this quarter, we thought we would write a few
lines, to partly express our appreciation for the Tie Top
WEEKLY.

Having watched the physical. culture notes, and following

Frank Merriwell’s example, we have derived great benefit both
physically and mentally. Space will not permit us. to express
all our views in regard to the different characters in Tir “
but we think Dick should marry June, and Dale should be
pleased with Madge; they are the girls we would choose. Wish-
ing Mr. Standish all the success due him in his noble work for
“voung America,” we will close, and remain ardent admirers
of Tip Top, Witiie STAMPFLE,
Enoc McNutt.

| OP,

We are glad to know Tir Top has been an elevating power
in your lives, boys, and can only hope that the benefits you have
received from reading it may impel you to scatter seeds of
kindness among your less fortunate comrades.

I have read Tre Top Weexty for a long time, and must say
that I have never come across another series of such well-writ-
ten, vivid, interesting stories as those contained in it.
though I am a high-school scholar, I, as well as various friends
of mine, find time to enjoy it. The characters are admirably
drawn, true to nature. The Merriwells are especially good. One
fault I can find, however, and that is that their enemies escape
too often before being eventually caught

The main objection to Ti Top, though, is the form of its,
publication. It ought not to be issued in the cheap-novel form,
with colored pictures on the cover. The Merriwell stories are
worthy of a better fate. Do you not think that the enclosed
picture resembles Elsie more than any picture of her that ever
appeared on a Tre Top cover? It seems to match your descrip-
tion of her a good deal.

I hope Burt L. will take this criticism
same as Frank M. would, and, in closing,
hope there will be many more adventures
issue from his pen.

New York City.

It would be fine if we could issue Trp Top in magazine tarnii
and cover the field our friend suggests; but that would prove
a most serious undertaking, and we fear the time has not ar-
rived to take the risk. The picture enclosed is a very sw eet one,
and would fit in well with the description of Elsie.

good-naturedly, the

can only say that I

of Frank and Dick
Oi, ae

 

(A letter from Massachusetts.)

My last letter must have gone into the waste-basket, but I
know you will print this one because it is from an old reader.
I think that last Tre Top was fine. It would almost make you
cry when Chet sang “Nearer To Thee.” I guess he is on the
right road at last, and I wonder who will be Dick’s next enemy.
I will close now. Yours for Tip Top, J. Herman HAnson.

Yes, Chet has finally seen the error of his ways. He fought
hard against it, but circumstances were too much for him. Per-
haps his singing that song was the real cause of the wonderful
change in his nature, after all.

 

 

“GOLDEN HOURS.”

Boys, have you any old numbers of Golden Hours?
Will pay liberally for Nos. 1.to 23 to complete my files.

If you have any of these numbers, write me,

Even .

  

Address Wittiams, Station “O,” Box 24, New York City. 3
 

 

 

(A letter from South Carolina.)

Pror. FourMEN: My measurements are as follows: Age, 16
years; weight, 120 pounds; height, 5 feet 7 inches; chest, nor-
mal, 29% inches; expanded, 32 inches; waist, 28 inches; neck,
12 inches; biceps, 9 inches. What is the best thing I can do to
broaden my shoulders? How can I gain flesh? What kind of
food should I eat, and in what quantities? I have an enormous
appetite. Should I eat as much food as I want, or eat a small
quantity, in order to gain flesh? What kinds of fruits will do
me good? What about bananas, figs, dates, apples, peaches,
and oranges? Would oatmeal or any kind of breakfast-food
help gne any? What kind of exercise should I take, and at what
time?
play baseball, and live a general out-of-door life, but it seems
that I only grow tall. I would like to be more stoutly built,
especially about my shoulders and chest. , A: a

You lack weight and general development, but this can be
overcome by resorting to proper means. Dumb-bells, bag-punch-
ing, and use of the rowing-machine will broaden your. shoulders.
Eat plenty of good plain food, but do not “stuff yourself.” Take
just enough to satisfy your appetite. When you get upefrom
the table, there should be the feeling that you could eat a little
more—but don’t. Beef, mutton, potatoes, vegetables, and fruit
should make up your diet. The more fruit, such as you men-
tion, you eat, the better you will feel. Oatmeal for breakfast is
known to have a very fattening effect. Get 8 hours’ sleep, keep
good habits, and you will soon increase your bulk.

Pror. FourmMen: As I have been a constant reader of Tip
Top, I take the liberty to ask some questions in regard to my
measurements. My weight is 104 pounds; height, 4 feet 1114
inches; age, 14 years; chest, normal, 30 inches; expanded, 32%
inches; waist, 28 inches; calves, 1214 inches. Could I become
a good athlete if I trained? W. C. G.

Boston, Mass.

If you took up a regular course of athletics, you ought to be
able to make an athlete of yourself.

(A letter from Texas.) (

Pror. Fourmen: Should a person who wishes to take on more
weight take light exercise, or should he go through the move-
ments with set and tense muscles? I have neglected my course
of movements, not knowing how I should take them, for I am
a little under weight, and want to increase it. Is it best to go
through the same set, in same order, every night and morning,
or should I take a different set occasionally ? When one’s muscles
are rather sore, is it all right to skip a day or so?) What ought I
_ to weigh—age, 18 years; height, 5 feet 9 inches? Is it all right

_to take off with right foot and throw left leg over first in run-
ning high jump? “Drop-BALL PItcHer.”

3 In taking on weight, light exercise is best. By this I mean
that you should use Indian clubs, dumb-bells, and pulley weights

for ten or fifteen minutes in the morning, and again at night.

I can walk a good distance,ego in swimming a great deal, -

 

 

 

 

Tense the muscles while exercising. Listless movements do no
good. But you should avoid heavy exercises like hammer-throw-
ing, weight-lifting, and long cross-country runs, for these will
bring down your weight. Vary your exercises occasionally.
Some mornings use the United States Army setting-up exer-
cises without apparatus; but always make it a point to go
through some form of exercise every morning and every night.
When you begin the course of training, five minutes will be
enough. Then later on gradually lengthen your period of ex-
ercise. By observing this, your muscles will not get sore. Never
skip a day or two, as you suggest. The benefit of all athletic
work consists largely in its regularity. You ought to weigh
about 157 pounds. Either foot will do to step off with in the
running high jump. ts

= /

(A letter from Kansas.)

ee / ‘
Pror. FourMENn: I am 12 years old, and weigh 85 pounds. My
height is 4 feet 11 inches. My measurements are: Forearm, 9

inches; biceps, 8 inches; waist, 26 inches; chest, normal, 28 —

inches; expanded, 30 inches; thighs, 16 inches; calf, 1014 inches;
neck, 12 inches. My records are: 100-yard dash, 14 seconds; 50-
yard dash, 7%4 seconds; standing broad jump, 7 feet 3 inches;
running broad jump, 12 feet 4 inches; running high jump, 334
feet. When I jump or run, I have a pain in my hips. What
exercise would you advise to take it out? How are my records?
Would you advise me to keep on jumping? Tom McCLosKkey. —

If you take regular exercise and get your body in good con- —
dition, you will not be troubled by the pains you speak of when —
you jump. Your records are very good for a boy of your age. fe
You lack a few pounds in weight, but fattening food, exercise,
and regular habits will soon remedy this.

(A letter from Ohio.) ; aerek

Pror. Fourmen: Having been a reader of the king of weeklies —
for some time, I take the liberty of asking you.a few questions. —
I am 15 years old; height, 5 feet 4 inches; weight, 12814 pounds;
chest, normal, 32 inches; expanded, 35% inchés; biceps, normal, —
10 inches; flexed, 12 inches; forearm, 10 inches; thighs, 1914
inches; neck, 13% inches; calves, 13 inches; waist, 28!4 inches.
I am a lover of outdoor sports, especially baseball and football.

G. H. BAKER.

You have the build of a promising athlete, and should develop —
a sound physique.

/ j

Pror. Fourmen: As I am a regular Tip Topper, I beg to ask

a few questions. I am fully developed, and full-chested. I have
no time for exercise, hence my muscles are flabby. Would you
kindly recommend some indoor sport by which I can harden my

muscles?
South McAlester, I. T.

Throw the mediciné-ball, play hand-ball, and basket-ball.

> ; :

“SHOSHONE.”

 
    

BF ORE SS “
x a> >

 

 
  
  
 
  

 
   
 
  
 
 
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
   
  
 
  
   
 
  
  
  
  
    
 
 
  
  
   
  

_ and I keep regular hours.

_ Week ty, I take the liberty of asking you a few questions.

ee TOP.

Pror. FourMEN: About a year ago my heart began to bother
me, and I consulted three physicians. Then I went to my family
physician, and he told me I had a nervous heart, and that |
was a nervous boy. He gave me some medicine, and it was

doing me good until the earthquake came, and it has been bother-

ing again. It doesn’t: bother me in the daytime when I am

working, but sometimes a sharp pain comes around my heart,
| and stays there: for a few seconds; otherwise, I feel all right

until I go to bed. Then it begins to beat fast, and I can’t go to
sleep for an hour or two. Some people have told me I have
heart-disease. I do not smoke or drink, not even tea or coffee,
I go to bed about 9:30, and rise at 7
I am beginning to take light dumb-bell exercise and a

I had to give up play-
I take from two to three
I can’t take any

o'clock.
cold-water sponge bath every morning.
ing baseball on account of my heart.

minutes’ breathing exercise every morning.

more than three minutes, because I get a pain in my chest. I
i 3 < ~

am 18 years old. A SAN Francisco REFUGEE.

San Francisco, Cal.
You should be very careful, and under no circumstance in-

dulge in violent exercise. At present take only long walks, but
do not walk fast.

:, (A letter from Maryland.)

Pror. FourMEN: Being a constant reader of the Tip Top
My
measurements are: Weight, 117 pounds; height, 5 feet 6 inches;
neck, 13 inches; forearm, 9 inches; biceps, 10 inches; chest, nor-

“mal, 30 inches ; expanded, 34 inches; waist, 29 inches; thigh, 1814

    

WEEKLY. 31

inches. Do you have a book'of exercises for the different mus-
cles? Are cold baths healthful? I think baseball and football
and swimming are the best sports going. My age is 14 years.
Wm. P. LANE.

You need to weigh more before your measurements will come
up to the standard. Street & Smith issue “The United States
Army Exercises,” revised by Professor Donovan, for ten cents,
which gives directions for exercising all the muscles of the body.
Cold baths are excellent in the morning, but some. people find
that they give them too much of a shock. Temper the water to
blood heat. You have selected three very fine sports for a young
man to go in for. Only, with swimming, do not stay in the water
too long, whether in a gymnasium-tank or in a stream during
the summer-+time.

(A letter from Texas.)

Pror. FourMEN: We would like you. to look at our measure-
ments: Sharpy—Age, 15 years; chest, normal, 29 inches; ex-
panded, 31 inches; calves, 12 inches; weight, 98 pounds; height,
s feet. Blucy—Age, 16 years; chest, normal, 33 inches; ex-
panded, 36 inches; calves, 14 inches; weight, 120 pounds; height,
5 feet 5 inches. Both of.us are fast football and baseball-players.

[wo WovuLp-BE ATHLETES:

“Sharpy”’ should train to take on a few more pounds, and
exercise for building himself up generally. “Blucy” also lacks
weight, but a thorough course of all-round gymnastics will bring
him up to the standard measurements.

 

 

 

ABOUT THE EARLY
NUMBERS OF THE

 

 

cent stamp to cover postage.

 

Ae} MEDAL, LIBRARY
r AT 10 CENTS d
150—Frank Merriwell’s Schooldays.

TIP TOP WEEKLY

£ receive hundreds of letters every week from readers asking if we can supply the early numbers of Tip Top containing
Frank’s adventures, ,In every case we are obliged to reply that numbers 1 to 300 are entirely; out of print.
to call the attention of our readers to the fact that the Frank Merriwell Stories now being published in book form in the
Medal Library are inclusive of these early numbers. The first book to appear was No. 150 entitled “Frank Merriwell’s Schoolda ‘Ade
We give herewith a complete list of all stories that have been published in book form up to the time of writing.
glad to send a fine complete catalogue of the Medal Library which is just filled with good things for boys, upon receipt of a one

We would like

We will be

  

 

MEDAL LIBRARY
AT. 10. CENTS
292—F rank Merriwell’s Hard Luck.

 

167—Frank Merriwell’s Chums.

206—Frank Merriwell’s Protégé.

 

178—Frank Merriwell’s Foes.
184—Frank Merriwell’s Trip West.
; ; 189—Frank Merriwell Down South.
sare anit) 193—F rank Merriwell’s Bravery. “
* 197—Frank Merriwell’s Hunting Tour.
_201—Frank Merriwell in Europe.
205—Frank Merriwell at Yale.
209-—-Frank Merriwell’s Sports Afield.
213—Frank Merriwell’s Races.
217—Frank Merriwell’s Bicycle Tour.
225—Frank Merriwell’s Courage.
229—Frank Merriwell’s Daring.
233—Frank Merriwell’s Athletes.
237—Frank Merriwell’s Skill.
240—Frank Merriwell’s Champions. -
244—Frank Merriwell’s Return to Yale:
247—Frank Merriwell’s Secret. |
251—Frank Merriweli’s. Danger.
254—Frank Merriwell’s Loyalty.
258—Frank Merriwell in Camp.
262—Frank Merriwell’s Vacation.
267—Frank Merriwell’s Cruise.

300-—Frank Merriwell on the Road.
304—Frank Merriwell’s Own Company.
308—Frank Merriwell’s Fame. Node ie
312—Frank Merriwell’s College Chums.
316—Frank Merriwell’s Problem.
320—-Frank Merriwell’s Forttine. S
324—F rank Merriwell’s New Comedian.
328—Frank Merriwell’s' Prosperity.
332—Ftrank Merriwell’s Stage Hit. ©
336—Frank Merriwell’s Great Scheme.
340—Frank Merriwell in England.
344—Frank Merriwell on the Boulevards.
348—Frank Merriwell’s Duel. - i
352—Frank Merriwell’s Double Shot.
356—Frank Merriwell’s Baseball Victories.
359—Frank Merriwell’s Confidence.
362—Frank Merriwell’s Auto.
305—Frank Merriwell’s Fun.
368—Frank Merriwell’s Generosity.
37i1—Frank Merriwell’s Tricks.
374—F rank Merriwell’s Temptation.
377—F rank Merriwell on Top.

 

271—Frank Merriwell’s’ Chase.

AT 15 CENTS. (Increased Size)

 

E 276—Frank Merriwell in Maine.

: 280—Frank Merriwell’s Struggle.
pee Wes _ 284—Frank Merriwell’s First Job.
a , 288—Frank Merriwell’s Opportunity.

 

 

 

| STREET @ SMITH, Publishers, NEW YORK CITY |

380—Frank Merriwell’s Luck.
383—Frank Merriwell’s Mascot. i
-386—Frank Merriwell’s Reward.
389—F rank Merriwell’s Phantom.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

tty
22 ets?

  

     
 

ISSUED EVERY FRIDAY

HANDSOME COLORED COVERS

Never has Burt L. Standish written such interesting tales of the
adventures of the Merriwell brothers, Frank and Dick, as are now appear-

ing in this weekly.

Mr. Standish has a. world-wide circle of friends and
be is putting forth his best efforts to amuse and entertain them. Boys,
you have no idea of what a grand feast he is preparing for you,
Top’s stories are going to astonish you.

Tip
Do not fail to get it.

PRICE FIVE CENTS PER COPY

For sale by all newsdealers, or sent, postpaid, by the publishers upon receipt of price in money or postage stamps 7

 

 

HERE ARE THE

536—Frank Merriwell’s Summer Camp; or, The Athletic-
school in the Woods.

537——Frank Merriwell’s Proposal; or, Starting the Sport
in the League.

538—Frank Merriwell’s Spook-hunters; or, The Mys-
terious Island of Mad Lake.

539--Dick Merriwefl’s Check; or, ThesHot Bunch From
Happy Camp.

540—Dick Merriwell’s Sacrifice; or, Team Work That
Told.

541—Dick Merriwell’s Heart; or, Breaking the, Hard

. Luck Streak.

542—Frank Merriwell’s New Auto; or, The Lure to
Destruction.

643—Frank Merriwell’s Pride; or, The ochis Hester
at Pineville.

544—Frank Merriwell’s Young Winners;
in the Blue Hills.

“a Bisa a cae Lead; or, Bound to Hold First

ace.
546—Dick a Influence; or, On the Right Road
t Last
Did Merriwell’s Top Notch; or, Against Odds,
Fate, and Scheming.
548-—Frank Merriwell’s Kids; or, The World Beaters In
New York.

or, The Stars

 

LATEST TITLES:

549—Frank Merriwell’s Kodakers; ar, Hunting Big ay

Game Without Guns,
550—Dick Merriwell, Freshman; or, First Days at Yale. |
551—Dick Merriwell’s Progress; or, The First Chance |

on the Field.

852—Dick Merriwell, Half-back; or, Getting into the |

Game at Last.

553—Dick Merriwell’s Resentment; or, In Defense of
His Honor.

554—Dick Merriwell Repaid; or, The Heart of Officer ae

Maloney.

555—Dick Merriwell’s Staying Power; or, The Great —

Game at New Haven.
556—Dick Merriwell’s “Push”; or, The Victim of the
“Flying Mare.”

557—Dick Merriwell” s Running; or, The Meet at Me- a a

chanics’ Hall.

558—Dick Merriwell’s Joke; or, Pit with the Jumping s@ y

Frenchman.

559—Dick Merriwell’s Saienit or, The Scrub That Made —

the Regulars “Go Some.”
560—Dick Merriwell’s Partner;
Texas.

561—Dick Merriwell in the Tank; or, Rushing the Regu:

lars at Water Polo.

 

 

IF YOU WANT ANY BACK NUMBERS of our libraries and cannot procure them from newsdealers, they ean be obtained from this office

Cut out and fill in the follewin
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THE FAVORITE LIST

FIVE-CENT LIBRARIES

 

 

au TiP TOP WEEKLY

Frank Merriwell and his brother Dick are known and loved by over one
hundred and fifty thousand of the best boys in the United States. They are
both clean-cut, vigorous fellows who dare to do right no matter what the
consequences. Get the current number. We are sure you will like it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

AND MAIN DIAMOND DICK WEEKLY

These are stories of the adven- The demand for stirring stories
tures of boys who succeeded in | of Western adventure is admir-
climbing the ladder of fame by | ably filled by this library. Every
honest effort. No more inter- | up-to-date boy ought to read just
esting tales can be imagined. | how law and order are estab-
Each number is at least one-third | lished and maintained on our
longer than the ordinary five- | Western plains by Diamond Dick,
cent library. Bertie, and Handsome Harry.

NICH CARTER WEEKLY

utile: Ait ttle hero Oh a aro) Dove: het Mate &
ae no need of introducing to you

thousand exciting adventures | Nicholas Carter, the oreatest
among the Redskins. These are | sleuth that ever lived. Every
given to our boys only in the | number containing the adven-
Buffalo Bill Stories. They are | tures of Nick Carter has a peculiar,

bound to interest and please you but delightful, power of. fascina-
tion.

BRAVE AND BOLD BOWERY BOY LI

Every boy who prefers variety The adventures of a poor waif
whose only name is ‘‘Bowery

ee eee ates See Billy.”’ Billy is the true product
be a reader of Brave and Bold. | of the streets of New York. No

All these were written by authors | boy can read the tales of his trials
without imbibing some of that
; ; : resource and courage that makes
of telling boys’ stories. Every the character of this homeless boy

tale is complete in itself. stand out so prominently.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

who are past masters in the art

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

ROUGH RIDER WEEKLY

Ted Strong was appointed deputy marshal by accident, but he resolves to use
his authority and rid his ranch of some very tough bullies. He does it in such a
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