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Issued Weekly. By subscription $2.50 per year. Entered as Second-class Matter at the N.Y. Post Office, by STREET & arches, 790-89 Seventh Avenue,
N.Y. Entered according to Act of Congress in the year 1907, in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, Washington, D. C.

  

 

No. 588.

DICK MERRIWELL’S CAMP SITE;

OR,

The Peril at Pine Point.

By BURT L. STANDISH.

 

CHAPTER I,
THE FLUTE-PLAYER OF THE FOREST.

“Here,” said Dick, “is a perfect site for our camp.”

“Tt sure is a picturesque spot,” nodded Brad Buck-
hart.

Casper Steele turned slowly and surveyed his sur-

_ roundings on every hand.

The three lads were standing on a pine-wooded point
of land which jutted hookingly into the ocean. Steele’s
yacht lay off the placid cove, the waters of which

Javed the half-circular western shore of the point.

The little tender which had brought the three lads

ashore, guarded by a sailor, floated not far away, in the

deep water off a natural landing.
“Really, I’m inclined to agree with you, Dick, old
chap,” said Steele, after a few moments. “I don’t

believe a prettier spot for a summer camp could be-
found anywhere along the coast.”
“T’ve looked at something more than the real beauty

“It is perfectly,

99

of the location,’’ returned Merriwell.

 

“NEW YORK, July 20, 1907.

   
  
   
 
  
 
  
   
    
    
   
    
   
  
    
  
   
    
  
    
    
   
 
     

Price Five Cents.

adapted for our purpose. On this side, near the cove,
and right where we are standing, is the spot. where
the tent should be pitched. Here we will be pro-
tected from any easterly storms, and yet in’ fair
weather we'll get the southerly and westerly breezes.
This cove is so deep that there can be very little ex-
posure of mud flats or anything offensive when the ~
tide is out. We can always land in here with small ~
boats, and, by making a mooring, they will float in
safety in the shelter of the cove. On the seaward
side of this point the surf rolls in upon a sandy beach —
that is perfectly adapted for bathing. There’s a spring 3
near at hand which will supply us with fresh water.
There’s plenty of dry wood to be had for the taking
and cutting. We'll have the odor of these pines con- —
stantly blended with the odor of the open sea. Back
from the shore these woods stretch away as far as the
eye reaches. There are hills and lakes inland, and
in those lakes we should find plenty of fresh-water
fish. Yes, fellows, this is just the spot, and cess
we'll gather our chums for the sulminer, outing.”

ne

 
 

 

“Hold on, partner,” remonstrated Buckhart, ‘don’t
be too sure. We've got to obtain a permit to camp
here. We've
point, and then ask his permission to camp on it.”
“That's right,’ Dick; “but I apprehend
little difficulty about that. If we are willing
for, the privilege, if we can convince
we'll be careful about fires,
should not be given the ‘privilege.”’
“There’s advantage
tioned,” smiled Steele, glancing away toward a broad,
black smudge of smoke that rose against the blue sky.

nodded
to pay.
the owner that
[ see no teason why we
d

one that you haven’t men-

“You'll be close to a sizable place where you can
obtain your mail and such provisions as you require,
Smoketown lies yonder, three miles away.”

village, a fishing hamlet, east-
rard along the coast,” said Buckhart. “We haven't
seen that place yet, but it can’t be more than three
miles distant.”

“T don’t fancy you'll find any special reason for
visiting Lobsterville frequently,” ! laughed Casper.
“You might take the place in, out of curiosity, of
course. I’ve noticed that Merriwell' enjoys visiting
these coast hamlets and mingling with the!queer people
we've found in some of them. They say those lobster-
fishermen are a rather hard set.”

“And there’s another

“They say so,” agreed Dick, “but I see no reason

why they should be any worse than other men ee?

earn an existence by hard and dangerous labor,’

“T sure didn’t take much of a fancy to Smoketown,”
e put in Buckhart, “It’s a right dirty place, and there
are plenty of dagos there, There were a heap of
sullen-looking loafers on the streets, too.”

_ "They’ve had a strike, you know, Brad,” said Dick..
“The native laborers who worked in the lime-quarries

- and in the kilns have been ground down by the lime-
manufacturers until they rebelled and asked for better

wages. While their wages were going down, the
| price of living was going up, and the poor devils who

had families to support were compelled to trade at the

ne lime company’s stores. I understand it was a rare
_ thing that any of these laborers ever received money
from the company, and many of them were constantly
in debt to the company. In a way, they were slaves,
and they became tired and rebelled. They’ve threat-
ened to rébel before this, but every time they did so
the company has frightened them into submission by
‘threats of bringing in foreign labor to fill their posi-
tions. At last, when a did te italians were

certain got to find out who owns this.

 

TIP..TOP .WEEKLY.

in the place little more than an hour, T fancied I de-
tected indications of still more trouble to come.’ Those
men you saw talking in groups and lingering on the
rad; they

corners about the streets. were not loafers,

were men with families.to support, and they are out

of employment. There’s something brooding in the

smoky air of Smoketown.”’

“WW ell, laughed the Texan carelessly.

let it brood,”
“We'll be far enough away to look on from a safe
distance—that is, if we obtain the privilege of camping
here,

“IT. presume we can find out in Smoketown,”
Steele.

“According to, what.J heard over there,’
Merriwell, “Lavan Blackpool, president of the lime
company, seems to own about all in these parts, They

°

I wonder who owns this point?”
‘said

observed

say he owns the greater part of Smokétown.”
‘The three lads moved about, looking the camp site
over with a great deal of interest and chatting of their
plans as if not one of them entertained the slightest
doubt about carrying those plans out.

“How many of the fellows do you expect to get
together, partner?” questioned Brad.

“Well, I hope to gather up nine or ten of them,”
answered Dick. “I’ve heard from Earl Gardner and,
big Bob Singleton. We can depend upon both of
them. Tommy Tucker promised to‘join us ere I left
New Haven. I’ve written Chip Jolliby, but haven't
heard.a word from him yet.”

“And I,know Obey Tubbs is simply waiting for the
word to pack his luggage and come a-flying,” laughed
the Texan. ‘With Steele and ourselves, that makes
—let me see—eight of us.” 7

“But you can’t depend on me,” said Casper quickly.
“T might linger a while, but the gov’nor is liable to
call me home in a hurry any day.”

“Eight of us,” muttered Dick. “Tf we had. another
man, we could form a baseball-team.”

“Whom would we play with?” questioned Brad.

“They ought to have a team in Smoketown.’

/"T wonder if they have?” (

“We can find out easily enough. A few batl-games
this summer would be highly interesting.” TAM

7

“IT sure would hate to go through the hale stim- i ;
We ad

mer without playing at all,” said the Texan.
have to pick up one or two more of the bunch, Dick—_
that is, if we find there are any teams we can get
games with.” :

, “Let’s look at that spring once more,” suggested
Steele. “That's the clearest, coolest, cleanest natural”
spr ing : ever saw.’

?

 

 

 

 

  
 

ticed it before.

 

 

 

eprom oo

yr off into the depths of the pine woods.

 

TP

They followed him along a faint path that led into
a glade, where bubbled a spring of water. Dick
stretched himself at full-length upon the ground to
drink from the spring. In this position he remained
motionless, listening for some moments.

“Hark, boys!” he whispered. “Can’t you hear it?’

“Hear what?’ questioned Casper.

“The spring. Every time those bubbles rise it seems
to give forth a sound like a sob.”

“T can hear it, partner,” said the Texan. “I no-
It’s like a person sobbing faintly, and
it sure gives me a queer feeling.”
“We'll call it the Sobbing Spring,”
then he drank a long, refreshing draft.

said Dick; and

As they rested there beside the Sobbing Spring, they
heard the surf pounding on the eastern shore of the
point and the wind whispering mysterious secrets amid
the pines, and finally they heard other sounds, which
brought a flash of surprise and wonderment to their
faces. These sounds came from a distance, floating
softly, faintly through the fragrant pines. It was
music—music so sad, so tender, so sweet that, in spite
of them, it brought a mist to their eyes.

“What does it mean?” whispered Steele breath-
lessly. “It sounds like the piping of a flute.”

“Ts it possible,” murmured Dick, “that, by some rare
chance, we’ve discovered the haunts of the great god
Pan? Is it Pan we hear playing his reed-flute ?”’

“Tt’s coming nearer,’ said Brad. -“It’s more dis-
tinct now. I sure never heard a flute played like that
before.” nes

Silence fell upon them as they listened. Nearer and
nearer drew the sweet, sad music. The strain of ten-
derness, of sorrow, of deep bereavement that ran
through it all moved the three lads to their depths.
It was like the lament of a wandering spirit that had
been separated and torn and banished from the soul
it loved and adored above all things in all the universe.
It fascinated them, held them spellbound, held them
speechless, and, had .the mythical Pan himself ap-
peared with his magic flute, it is doubtful if one of
them would have felt more amazement and wonder

than possessed him as he listened.

From the glade something like a natural path led
: They gazed
expectantly down the shadowy recesses of this path,
and at length they saw a figure which came into view

£ _ like the gradual appearance of an image upon a magic
‘mirror.
- yanced slowly toward the spring, playing upon the

It was a man with snow-white hair who ad-

,

WEEKLY. 3

flute which he held to his lips, and with every step that
music grew sweeter and sadder.

Involuntarily, Dick Merriwell made a gesture to en-
treat silence upon his comrades. They remained quite
still, for it was plain that the approaching man was
wholly unconscious of their presence. At length he
was near enough for them to see his eyes, and those

eyes were the saddest any human being ever beheld.’

He was not an old man, despite his snowy hair. In-
deed, with a feeling of added wonderment, they ap-
prehended the fact that he was comparatively young.
Although it was difficult to judge his age, Dick fancied
he could not be over thirty.

The man seemed to be in a trance. Perhaps this
strange condition, this hypnotic, trancelike spell, was
wrought by the sound of his own music. Be that as
it may, he continugd to come on, until at last he paused
at the very edge of the spring.

The sad music stopped. The man held ott his |

hands toward the spring, and cried as if calling to some
one: | ‘
“Bertha, Bertha, my love, my life! I am here!”
Then he listened, unutterable anxiety and suspense
on his pale face.
murmur of the surf upon the shore, the whisper of the
wind in the pines, the stifled sob of the crystal spring.

CHAPTER II. .

“THE STORY OF THE SOBBING SPRING.

Unspeakable disappointment settled upon the face

of the sad man. ‘Tears started from his eyes, and he
sank to the ground, covering his face and groaning:

“She does not answer me! She is lost—lost for-
ever !’’ | }

As the man remained thus, Merriwell rose quietly
to his feet, stepped to the’ ae s side, and lightly
touched his BEpUlaeK, 4

.“Pardon: me, sir,’ said the sy gently, ‘
searching for some one?”

With a low cry of surprise, the man shrank away
and looked up. He saw Dick and the others. Re
sentment flashed into his face.

“Why are you here?” he cried.
to drive me away?

to him, and no one has a right to breathe # without
his permission? Is he not satisfied with the frightful
wrong he did me?”

“I sure am afraid the old boy. is a bit off i in the

The only answer to his cry was the

‘are you .

“Has he sent you
Does he think he owns the whole
world? Does he fancy the very air of heaven belongs

    
  
    
   
   
   
   
 
    
  
  
   
   
   
   
  
   
   
  
    
 
   
  
  
   
   
   
  
  
  
   
  
   
     
     
     

‘g

 

*

  
    
  
  
   
  
  
  
   
    
    
  
    
  
   
  
    
   
  
  
    
  
   
    
   
    
       
    
 
    
  
  
   
   
  
       
       
  
  
   

bidding.

ss

of Smoketown.
: filthy dollars and grinding to powder. the human souls
3 that labox to make him richer.”

CaeThe sh boys exchanged glances. |

 

a TIP TOP

upper story,” murmured Buckhart, leaning toward

Steele.
Casper nodded, watching Dick and the stranger

“We've not come to molest you, sir,” said Seis
well. “We chanced to be here, and heard the music
of your flute as you approached. You play beauti-
fully.’

‘The man seemed a trifle relieved and reassured.

“Then you do not come from him?’? he muttered.
“Of whom do you speak?”
“That monster
ruined my life and murdered my dear one.
murdered her,

for his crime.

wretch who
Oh, he
even though he has escaped punishment
As
true as there is justice in the world, as true as there
is a heaven above us, the day of retribution draws
nigh!” ,

‘among men. The

But he shall not always escape!

The man of the white hair grew cited as he shook

his hands above his head and cried these words.
Sudden calmness followed, and he surveyed the trio
of youths as if seeking to read them by their outward
appearance.
“No,” he finally murmured,
the tools of a monster.

“you do not look like
You look clean and. whole-

_. some, and there is nothing about you to: give me fear

or repulsion. -I have seen his paid tools—I have seen
many of them. They are brutes who perform his
command, who defile their hands with crime at his
But who are you? W hy ate you here?”

“We are strangers looking for a camp site upon this |

coast,’ explained Dick. “We have found the spot
we seek here upon this point. We are going to camp
here.” ,
“Yes, you must be strangers,” returned the man,
“else you would not venture so near the monster who
lives yonder beneath that pall of smoke.”

9)

He flung out one hand in the direction of Smoke-
town. Without pausing for Merriwell to speak again,

he continued:

Te you are wise, you'll seek another spot. Unless

_ you wish trouble, you'll not camp upon Pine Point.
_ He'll not permit you to stay here.”

. “Who is this person 6, whom you refer? You have

not yet spoken his name,” ;

“His name is Lavan Blackpool, and. he is the master
Yonder he lives, grinding out his

~“Blackp 1?” said Dick. “We've heard of him.”
“Then you've heard no good of him!” cried the man

WEEKEY.

of the woods. ‘No man speaks fair of Lavan Black-
pool, save him who has sold his soul and body for
Blackpool’s filthy that pall

of smoke are hundreds of men whose hearts ove

money. Yonder beneath
srflow
with hatred and aversion for Lavan Blackpool, yet
fear

dare

they him.. They are slaves and cowards, and

lift their
should crush and ¢

they not hands against him lest he

lestroy them... Yonder he dwells in

his fine mansion, bought and furnished with the money

his slaves have earned for him. For him there is no

law save the law of his base desires. What he wants

he takes, even to the taking of.a human life and the
Beneath the lash of his

Tn all Smoke-

destruction of a human soul.
power the slaves cringe and crawl.
town there is no fair thing this man desires and does
Did

cannot

flowers in that begrimed
3ut once ther¢

not possess. you see

town? They bloom there.

was in Smoketown the fairest flower ever beheld by
human eyes, and I, Jasper Clifford, known to-day as
Crazy Cliff, possessed this flower. It is withered—
dead. Lavan Blackpool saw it,
withered beneath his vile touch. He plucked it and

destroyed it, but the day of judgment shall come.”

withered and and it

In a vague way the wild
words of the white-haired man who called himself
Jasper Clifford—who by others’ was known as Crazy
Cliff.

“But why should this man Blackpool refuse \us the
privilege of camping here?” questioned Dick. “Does

he own this point ?”’

the boys were moved by t

“He claims it, although he has no legal right to it,”
was the answer. “It is not owned by him, yet he has
prevented the legal owner from building a summer
hotel here.” | |

“Do you know the rightful owner of this land?”

“JT do not know him personally. I know of him,”

“Where can he be found?” ;

“In Boston.”

“His name ?”

“Phillip Rolfe, ‘Two years ago he came down here
and purchased this land, with the intention of forming

a company and building a fine summer hotel here upon

the Point. Blackpéol forbade him. Blackpool laid
claim to the land.
gation over the property. I have been told that Phillip
Rolfe has established his rightful claim to this Point,
but as yet he has not attempted to build that hotel.”
“Phillip Rolfe!’ cried Casper Steele, at this point,

“Why, I know of him. My father knows him well.

On my word, I think Mr. Rolfe invited my father to)
join him in this project of building a summer hotel

Since then there has been much liti-

   

 

 

 

2. ee

as

 

 

 
      
 

By, Sere 2.

 

 

       

 

!

mation starts my blood some.

that man,”
of the fair flower whom he destroyed. She was my

- notized her somehow.
and his tales of luxury.

TP» TOP

here. I’d quite forgotten about it. At any rate, I did
not dream for a moment that this was the site chosen
for the hotel.”

“Do you know how to reach Mr. Rolfe?’ asked
Merriwell. —
“Why, yes,
Wavelark.
I’m. certain we

here.

I think I have his address on board the
If he is the man who bought this property,
can obtain the desired permit to camp
We can wire him from Smoketown and get an
answer right away, in case he is at home.”

“Then that’s what we had better do,” said Dick. “If
he gives us permission——’’

“You'll still have to deal with Lavan Blackpool,’
interrupted Crazy Cliff. “Do you see this spring—
this spring that sobs and sobs forever of a tragedy?
it often. He has bottled
its waters. and sent them away for analysis. He has
been told the waters of this spring contain rare medi-
cinal properties. Like the grasping, greedy wretch he
is, he plans some day to form a company to own and
dispense the waters of this spring. I know he will
forbid you trespassing here.”

“Let the blamed old reprobate forbid!’ exclaimed
Buckhart. ““If we obtain a permit from the rightful
owner of the property, you bet your boots we're going
You hear me gently murmur!”

Lavan Blackpool has visited

to camp here!
_ *That’s right,” agreed Dick, who had been aroused
by the words of Crazy Cliff. “Old Blackpool may

be the master of Smoketown and the slave-driver of.

its inhabitants, but we'll show him that he can't
frighten all creation. We've chosen this Point as our
pope se -Eecana, and here we'll camp, Blackpool or
no Blackpool!’’

The man of the snowy hair shook his head doubt-

- fully.

“You do not know his power. You do not realize
his evil strength. If he forbids you to. camp here, you
will be in peril every moment you remain. If he
cannot frighten you away in any other manner, he’ll
employ ruffians, brutal men, criminals, to come upon

you in a body and drive you off by force,”

cried Buckhart. ‘This infor-
Waugh!

gather our bunch and give old Blackpool and that gang

“T smell a ruction!”

of rustlers the hottest time of their lives!”

. * f
“Sorrow, ruin, and death follow in the steps of
said Crazy Cliff. . “You heard me_ speak

He took her from me. Poor child! ‘He hyp-
He deluded her with his wealth
Listen! Once I lived yonder

wife.

Pards, we'll .

    

WEEKLY. | 5

I had a little cottage which I rented
I had a position which paid

in Smoketown.
from the lime company.
me somewhat better than an ordinary laborer is paid.
place, induced to do so by
I had

younger

I came there from another

the fair representations of Lavan Blackpool.
just been married to Bertha. She was much
than I—in fact, a mere girl. I had seen her growing
up from ‘childhood, the only daughter of a widowed
mother. She had blue eyes She
and a voice that was soft and
Her mother possessed a little property, and she
did her best to education. When
Bertha’s mother died and she was left alone in the
world, I asked her to marry me. Some months after
we were married, Blackpool gave me a position, and
I moved to Smoketown. It was a fearful mistake, |]
think that wretch had seen Bertha and marked her as
his own. And he had already buried two wives in the

cemetery under the hill by Smoketown.

and golden hair.
had a tender mouth
low.

give Bertha an

“For a time after we
seemed to go well.

located in that place things
‘I was in good health and working
steadily. We had our little home, and we were paying
for it. It was a modest little cottage, not much like
the mansion of Lavan Blackpool. At night, when I
returned from my work, Bertha’ met me smiling at
the door. In the evening she sat beside me and lis-
tened while I played upon my flute. She had a kind
and gentle heart, and went among the poor people
of the place. It was not long before I began to under-
stand something of the iron nature and heartles¢ soul
of my employer, but I spoke never of these things to
Bertha. At first Blackpool seemed to take great in-
terest in me. He even visited us in our cottage on
two or three occasions. Once I came home and found
him talking earnestly with my wife. I suppose I
should have taken warning then. Had I dreamed
what perfidy lay in old Blackpool’s soul, I'd have left
our home, taken my dear one, and fled far, far beyond
his reach. Better had I abandoned everything in the
world—everything save her I loved—than to have re- —
mained for that snake to do his work. , moe hl
“Finally I saw a, change coming over Bertha. I
could not understand it. Occasionally I detected her |
looking at me in a peculiar way. She seemed to be —

troubled, but when I questioned her she forced a laugh

and told me there was nothing in our lives to give her
anything but happiness and contentment.

“One evening Blackpool invited me.to his house ko
consult with him about a matter of business. When:
I prepared to go Bertha’ asked lief to accompa
I thought it ee but of late she bas becamenere

  
 
 

 

 
  
  

 
       
        
  
  
     
   
    
 
   
  
  
  
   
   
  
 
 
 
   
   
  
   
  
  
  
  
  
    
   
   
   
  
  
   
  
  
  
  
  
 

6

- ous and fearsome, and I fancied she was afraid to re-
main alone in the cottage. I took her with me. Black-
pool welcomed us with a smile—the smile of the ser-
pent. Together he and I talked of our business in
his fine library. I know not what he wants of so
many books, for I’m sure he never reads them. Per-
haps he bought them for his disreputable son to read.
Perhaps he bought them to make a show and to give
people the impression that he is an educated man.
He is crude and ignorant and unlettered, but he knows
f how to make lime and dollars and make slaves of
human beings.

“When we had finished our business Blackpool in-
re vited us to inspect his fine home with him. He es-
corted us from: room to room, ‘showing with pride all
his elegant furnishings, his beautiful pictures, his costly
luxuries which he had purchased with the money
earned by the sweat of poor men’s brows. Bertha
always loved beautiful things. She went into rap-
tures of admiration over what she saw. That night the
evil seed Lavan Blackpool had planted in her heart
took sprout and began to grow.

“T’ll not go into all the details. I’ll make the story
short. It’s painful enough for me. Two months later
Bertha left me, and behind her she left a note in which
she said that we would never live together again. I
was thunderstruck. I was nearly crazed.
find her, but I failed, for Lavan Blackpool had sent her
away and hidden her somewhere that I might not
speak with her. Oh, had I been able to find her then!
I am sure the ruin that followed might have been
averted! In time I was served with a notice of suit
for divorce. My wife whom I loved—my wife whom
‘I had never wronged, to whom I had never spoken

-harshly—alleged cruelty, and not until the day I faced
her in court was I permitted to see her. It was all
fixed by the destroyer. He had bought lawyers and
judge. When in a low and trembling voice the one
I loved rose and de¢lared that I had abused her, I had
; sttuck her, I had starved her—when these words fell
"upon my ears my heart broke. I made no defense.
She left the court-room, and I watched her until she
vanished. Not once while in that room had she ven-
tured to let her eyes rest upon me.

“The decree was granted. By this time I had given

: up my position, for I could not continue in the employ-
__ ment of the wretch who had ruined my home and my
o dike. That man had the brazen audacity to offer me
‘more money and a better position. This offer was
made,ere the case came to trial. ° It was made with
oe ufderstanding that I should not contest my wife’s

 
  
 

   

3

Tee TOP” WiLL Y-.

I tried to

thought.

application. It was made through an agent of old
Blackpool. My answer was a blow that stretched the
man senselesss on the ground.

“One month after Bertha secured her freedom she
married Blackpool. When I attempted to enter his
mansion on the day of the ceremony I was attacked,
struck down and beaten senseless by his paid guards.
On the recovery. of my senses they warned me to leave
Smoketown and never step foot in it again on peril of
my life. I was told that Bertha was now the wife of
Blackpool.

“Broken-hearted, I left Smoketown, and for weeks I
wandered in the forests. I know not how I lived, but
I managed to exist in some fashion. In time I came
back here and found a place of hiding not far from this
Point. Here I used to come day after day and sit
gazing away toward the black pall of smoke which
rises against yonder sky. Over there somewhere be-
neath that pall of smoke the woman I had loved and
lost—the woman whose heart had been poisoned by
that monster—lived in the mansion of the destroyer.
Once or twice I talked with acquaintances from Smoke-
town. I asked them about her, and they told me she
seemed far from happy. They told me her face wore a
shadow and her sweet mouth wore a droop of sorrow.
You may despise me for my lack of manhood, but
many a long night I have sat through the black hours
crying for my lost one.

“T can only imagine all the things she must have
suffered. I know she suffered terribly. In time old
Blackpool grew to hate her because he believed she still
thought of me and regretted the wrong she had done
me. His hatred led him to abuse her. One man from
Smoketown, who stands in fear of Blackpool, who
pledged me on my life not to mention his name, told

me that the monster starved her, shut her up in his”

gilded prison, even beat her. My blood boils at the
ple passing that gorgeous prison heard her screaming,
and sobbing, and crying.

“Let me tell you a strange thing. In those days

when I first came here this spring was here, but it was

then like other springs in that it gave forth no sound.
One morning after a wild qnd stormy night I came
here, led by a strange desire, an inclination that drew
me, a power that I could not understand. My heart
was pounding wildly in my bosom, and as I drew near
I seemed to feel the presence of a fearsome horror.
The trees were dripping with the cold rain that had
beaten upon them all the night.

This man told me that more than once peo-—

- It seemed that even |

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
     
     
 
  
      
 

 

 

 

 

  

the forest was weeping. Here beside the spring I
found her—dead!”’

He choked forth the final word, covering his pale,
The flute lay
the sobbing of which could

agonized face with his quivering hands.
beside him near the spring,
now be ee heard.
The three boys were spellbound and silenced by the
tragic story.
After a time Jasper Clifford summoned command of
his voice and continued a bit brokenly:
that I was here. For
days she had eaten scarcely enough to keep a sparrow
alive. On the evening before the storm that monster
beat her and tried to force her to eat. In the night
she escaped from the house and came here, dragging

“Somehow she had learned

herself somehow through the black, wet woods—came
here in search of me. But when morning came she
slept beside the spring—slept to wake no more. And
since that time the spring has sobbed as she must
have sobbed with her last expiring breath.

“They found me here dazed, holding her thin,
wasted form in my arms. Something had snapped in
my brain. I remember fighting them like a maniac
when they tried to take her from me, but there were
too many of them, and t they carried her back—back be-
neath the black pall of Smoketown. They say the
- murderer pretended to weep at the funeral. They
buried her in his lot, beside the other wives he had
murdered, but she’s not there now.’ Although no one
knows it, in the darkness of a night I tore open the
grave and removed her from it. I would not let her
lie there in that wretched spot. I felt her calling to me
every hour, every minute that she was there. I re-
filled the grave and replaced the sods as best I could,

I carried her in my arms away into the woods, and up ~
y ,

yonder, where no eyes save mine have ever seen it, is
her grave. — |

“But somehow I can’t help feeling that her soul Jin-
“gers here near this spring.
the clear, bubbling water. At times I come here, as I
came to-day, playing my flute. She used to loye to
hear me play it at twilight. I come and call to her,
but the sobbing of the spring is the only answer I ever

wet.”
g /

ayy CHAPTER IIL

'

LANDING AT SMOKETOWN,

‘Although it was plain that as he told his sad and ~

. “tragic tale Jasper Clifford felt the deepest grief that
human heart may ever know, his eyes*were dry ee.

she is happier now?

I’ve heard her sobbing in’

lasting soul,” thought the Texan.

| words had lifted the ee somewhat from the he art ©

 

TIP, TOP WEEKLY, 7

Not so

face

he finished. with the three listeners. Dick
Merriwell’s set and his hands clenched;
Casper Steele’s chin quivered, and he turned away to
brush aside the tears; Brad Buckhart’s strong white
teeth were shut like the jaws of a vise, but, in spite of
himself, the Texan could not hold back the mist that
dimmed his eyes.

Silence followed the final low-spoken words of the
bereaved man, who bowed his head and covered his
drawn and sorrow-aged face with his hands. The
spring sobbed softly ; the wind soughed amid the pines ;
the distant surf murmured like the deep, repressed,
throbbing notes of an organ at a funeral.

For some time no further word was spoken.
ford’s flute lay forgotten and voiceless upon the
ground. Although the man’s lips did not utter it, his
heart was crying to his lost one,

Finally Dick Merriwell rose slowly to his feet,
stepped to the side of the man and lightly touched
his sorrow-snowed hair.

“Sir,” said the boy, in a voice that quivered with
deep emotion, “I am sure that some day when you call
to her she will answer you. Lavan Blackpool stole her)
body, but he could not steal her soul. Her soul re-
rained true to you and will thus remain through time
and eternity. She is gone from this world never to re-
turn, but is it not possible—is it not almost certain—
that she 1s better off now? Is it not almost certain that
Perhaps the only thing that
grieves her now is the knowledge of your deep grief
and sorrow; for if she can look down upon you, if
she can see you, her soul must be harrowed by your
anguish, In life you did not know ingly and willingly

give her pain. Would you wish to do so now?”

“No! no!” cried the man quickly.

“Then check this dreadful grieving.

was

Clif-

Repress your.

“sorrow and be cheered by the knowledge that she can
suffer no more at the brutal hands of Lavan Blackpool.

Be cheered and heartened and uplifted by, the cqnvic- —
tion that the day will come when you shall call to her
and she shall answer. The day will come when you:
will join her in a better Jand.” ‘
The eyes of Brad Buckhart were fastened on Diek
with an expression of breathless suspense and admita-
tion for the boy who could speak thus to _ the grief- 3
broken man. 7 *. eelaya
“T couldn’t say anything like that to save my ever-
ads My pard sure e cat
say the right thing at the right time.” —
It seemed so, for already it was apparent that Dick

 

 

  
   
   
  
  

   
     
   
 
 

  
 
 
   

    

8

Jasper Clifford. The man looked up and met the pity-
ing eyes of the youth. He seized Dick’s hand and
pressed it with both his own.

“You're. right, right,” he breathed.
“But I’ve never thought of it that way before. I’ve
neyer thought that | pain by
grieving as I grieve. I have thought that some time

boy—you’re
might be giving her
we would meet again, never to be separated. Boy,
from this day I shall do my best not to give her pain.
Still,’ he murmured, a touch of doubt—‘‘still,
must I stay away from the spring? May I not come
here and play my flute? Must I leave her lonely grave
to the silence of the great pine woods?”
“Oh, no,” “There is no
reason why you should not come here to play your
flute. There is every reason why you should take such
flowers as you may gather from the fields and the
meadows to her hidden grave in the woods, but when
you come here play your sweetest, happiest music, as
you used to play to her when you and she were sitting
together in the twilight. Carry her your flowers with
a hopeful heart, as you brought her flowers in those
happy days before the serpent entered your Eden.
And never, never forget that she is waiting for you,
ready to welcome you joyously when you go to join
her.”
_Casper Steele rose hastily to his feet and strode
away, stumbling a bit blindly because his eyes were
dimmed with the mist which kept coming faster than

with

answered Dick quickly.

‘he could brush it aside.

Crazy Cliff’s trembling hand fumbled and found the
flute. He rose to his feet, and something like a smile
lightened his face.
“Yes,” he said, “I will play the piece she loved best.
I will play it, and then I will go back to my hiding-
place in the forest and wait—wait sof the day when
I may call to her and she may answer.’

He moistened his lips and lifted the instrument.
The wind was hushed, and even the pines seemed to
listen as he played that tenderest of tunes, “Home,
Sweet Home.’’

_ It was too much for Brad Buckhart, who had fought
desperately to repress any show of emotion. The
cheeks of the rugged, tender-hearted fellow were soon

wet. |
The last note died away. Jasper Clifford: lowered
the flute and took Dick Merriwell’s hand.

- “Good-by,” he said. “Tm going now. We may
never meet again, but I wish to tell you that vou have.
‘lifted some of the load from my dead heart. You have
given me new thoughts to think, and new courage to

LIP. IOP: WEEKLY.

wait, and new faith to believe, but ere I go let me warn
you again to beware of Lavan Blackpool. Don’t
arouse him against you, for he will find a way to strike
and crush. Good-by.”

He turned his back upon them and upon the Sobbing
Spring, and soon he had’ melted in the shadows far
down the path amid the pines,

They found Steele sitting on some rocks and staring
out across the blue expanse of ocean which stretched
away until it touched the southern horizon. After
they joined him neither of the trio spoke for some time.
Steele continued to gaze toward the south. Buckhart’s
eyes were fastened on the ground and his brows
knitted. Merriwell had turned his face toward the
smutty cloud that hung three miles down the coast,
and his features wore a look of grim resolution.

At length Casper drew a long breath and rose, turn-
ing to his friends.

“Well, Merriwell,”’ he said, “what have you, de-
cided? What conclusion have you arrived at?”

“T have not altered my decision in the least,” was
the reply. “If we can obtain proper permission to
camp here, I’m for it.’ j

“Me, too, partner,” put in aie Texan. “Although
I hate and despise old Blackpool already, I sure would
like to see more of that pestiferous gent. You hear
me murmur!”

“It is quite likely that the poor man we’ve lately
seen is right in thinking Blackpool will object to our
presence upon this point,” said Casper.

““Tt’s quite likely,” agreed Dick, “but we'll wait and
see. Let’s get aboard the Wavelark, Casper, and run
down to Smoketown. From that point we can wire
Phillip Rolfe.”

A short time later they were on the deck of the

yacht, and before long the nose of the Wavelock was
cutting the waves.

Smoketown harbor was small but well sheltered. A |

number of grimy-looking sailing-vessels lay at anchor
within its protection. The village itself lay in a hol-
low huddled at the foot of a barren hill. The houses
were small and monotonously alike. There were few
trees to shade the crooked streets. Vegetation and
vefdure did not seem to thrive in the soofy, gas-
charged, sun-defying atmosphere of Smoketown. The
walls of the very houses looked begrimed. Even the
scattered headstones seen in the cemetery at the foot

of the barren hill wore a dingy look. Along the shore

front many kilns, where lime was burning, belched
their dark smudge skyward like so many miniature
volcanoes. TH® shore front of any manufacturing:

 

4)
a
a

 

 

    
 
 

   
     

 
   

 

 

 

i
4

!

TIP TOP

7; that of Smoketown was
There were to be seen
scores of sagging, staggering buildings, old wharves

town is liable to be unsightly
most hideous and repulsive.

and piers, piles of rubbish and garbage, and nowhere
had any man displayed a desire or a thought to make
anything less repellent or more cleanly. Down here
near the water-front lived many of the poorer fami-
lies and much of the foreign element that had lately
been brought into Smoketown. This was the place
where one man ruled, and his god was money. He
was piling up a fortune for himself and lining the
pockets of the fortunate stockholders of the company,
the most of whom, luckily for themselves, dwelt afar

from Smoketown.

The Wavelark dropped anchor, and as soon as pos-
sible the three lads entered the tender which the sailor
brought alongside.

“Put us over to the big wharf yonder, Harris,” di-
rected Steele, with a motion toward one of the piers
on which hundreds of barrels of lime were piled await-
ing shipment.

“Aye, aye, sir,” said Harris.

There were a few persons on the wharf, curiously
regarding the yacht and the approaching tender, and
one of these, a huge, thick-shouldered thick-necked,
bullet-headed, scar-faced youth of twenty, coatless and
smoking a corn-cob pipe, stood out prominently, his
eyes fixed upon the approaching boat. Near him was
a short, sawed-off, bow-legged, red-headed chap of
about the same age. A third youth, with queer bulg-

ing eyes and a huge, froglike mouth, leaned against |
_the corner of the wharf building sucking a cigarette.

At one’ side of the wharf was a float for small boats,
with a flight of steps leading up from it.

Steele directed Harris to make for the float.

As they approached, the -scar-faced fellow in shirt-
sleeves moved over to that side of the wharf and called
to them.

~ttey; there!*
doing ?”’

They did not answer him. ¢

“Are you deaf?” he snapped. “Did Yer hear me
speak to yer? What are you doing?”

Still no answer.

“Now, look a-here, you fellers,” roared the speaker,
who had been joined by the gogegle-eyed chap and the
little red-headed youth, “you wanter keep away from
dat float! Don’t you try to land dere, for if yer do,
you'll git inter trouble! See?” |

“Evidently 4 belligerent person,”

he cried harshly.

commented Steele,

_-in a low tone.

WEEKLY. 9
“A whole lot cockey and sassy, I opine!” growled
Buckhart, who was already beginning to bristle. “I

ruffian called Mike.

“What are you

      
 
   
  
   
  
  
   
  
  
  
    
  
  
  
   
     
   
  
   
  
  
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
  
    
 
  
 
 
  
    
  
   
      
      
     

reckon he thinks he owns the wharf.”

Harris had stopped the motor and was skilfully
swinging the tender alongside the float.

Again he of the scarred face roared at them.

“If you step on dat float,” he declared, “Vil kick
the whole bunch of yer into the drink! Dat’s business,
too) Seer’

“Well, now he sure will have a right lively job on
his hands,” murmured the Texan, beginning to grin.

Paying no heed whatever, Harris stopped the tender
at the float and the three lads sprang out.

“You may return to the yacht, Harris,’ said Steele.
“When I want you to fetch - off I'll signal.”

“T beg your pardon, sir,” said the sailor, “but I’m
afraid you’re going to have trouble here. Hadn't I
better stay ?”

“T don’t think we'll need you,

“Very well, sir.”

Harris started the motor and swung away from the
float. By this time the fellow of the scarred face was
making some omious moves. He had put his pipe
away and was rolling up his sleeves in a most business-
like manner. He had likewise planted himself near
the head of the steps which led up to the wharf.

’ was Casper’s answer.

Buckhart attempted to mount those steps first, but
Dick was ahead of him.

The Texan followed closely and Casper Steele was
not far behind Brad.

The bow-legged, red-headed fellow displayed a set
of decayed teeth in a grin of anticipation. .

“Soak the dudes, Mike,” he urged. “I and Gog-
gles will back yer up.”

“T don’t need no backin’ fer dat bunch!” sneered the
“T can eat ’em up wit’ one hand |
tied behind me back! Jest watch me knock der Sore
out of der t’ree of ’em!”’ ;
. ‘

 

CHAPTER IV.
DHE SMOKETOW N TERROR.’

There was every prospect of a lively encounter, and
it must be confessed that Brad Buckhart greeted this
prospect with a feeling of genuine eagerness and ela-
tion. He was bitterly sore toward Smoketown ere
leaving Pine Point, and his aroused pugnacity wel-
comed the opportunity to “get a crack” at one or more a
of the offensive inhabitants of the place. :
Rachie sure he would be priate: the moment h

 
 
10 aa) OP

reached the steps, Merriwell held himself ready for
the encounter.

But just as this encounter seemed imminent two
more lads appeared on the wharf, and one of them
cried to the scar-faced chap:

“What’s the matter here,
ing?”

The speaker was dressed in tailor-made clothes and
On his feet were stylish tan

What’s do-

McTeague?

wore an outing shirt.
shoes, and on his head was a stylish soft hat of a kind
He was well built, and in a
His face, how-

not sold in Smoketown.
dark way he was rather good-looking.
ever, wore an expression of insolent authority.

This fellow was follow ed by a slender chap of fop-
pish appearance and vapid face, from whose mois-

tened under-lip dangled a fresh-lighted cigarette.

The scar-faced ruffian glanced round, shrugged his
thick shoulders, and made an ugly grimace and a con-
temptuous gesture. toward the three new arrivals.

“Dose fellers landed here w’en I tol’ ’em to keep
off, Brian,” he answered. “I warned ’em I’d knock

‘der tar out of ’em if they landed, but they didn’t pay

|

own Smoketown.”

E: chap:

does Own the most of it.

< pool.” ”

no ’tention to me.” e
“Is that it?” said the youth called Brian, as he
surveyed Dick and his friends. un
“Yes, dat’s it. Dis ain’t der first time swell guys
has tried it against orders. I s’pose these fellers t’ink
dey own der earth because they happen to ‘be cruisin’
round in a yacht. They'll me they don’t own Smoke-
town!” re
“Quite right, McTeague,’
himself in front of Dick.

’ said Brian, as he planted
“They'll find they don’t

“T presume you own the place,” said Merriwell, with
a faint laugh that was very irritating to the important

~ Well, if. I ce was the hot answer, “my father
Do you know who my

so
a

father is?”
“T’m happy to say I haven’t that honor.””
“Well, I'll tell you w ho he is. He's Lavan Black-
“He sure seems paene to corifess it,” put in Buck-

hart.

_ “My father is Lavan BI ackpool,” repeated the youth.

“He’ s president of the me England Lime Company.”

not a public wharf?

“Permit me to inquire,” spoke Steele, “if this is

of the Smoketown magnate.

' said,

™

I believe the Eastern Maine
steamers stop here at ‘Smoketown, and this seems to be ©

ee only. wharf at which one ee them could land,” well quietly.

WEEKLY.

Brian Blackpool. “You're quite right.. What about
ie

“It seems to me,” retorted Steele,
law forbidding the landing of private citizens upon
the wharf of a public steamship company as long as

they do not interfere in any way with the business of

“that there is no

If we were attempting to use this wharf
that would be a differ-

the company.
for our own private business,
ent matter.”’

“Now I want to tell you fellows something,”
Blackpool, thrusting his hands into his pockets and
squaring himself before them. “My father is one of
stockholders in the Eastern Maine Steam-
ship Company. His practically built this
wharf. If I forbid you landing here, you can’t land.
If I give anybody authority to forbid you, you can’t

Get that? Now, McTeague is wharf-tender.
as authority.”

said

the biggest
money

land.

He h

“This place of Smoketown must sure be a mon-_

archy,” said Buckhart. “I opine old Blackpool reck-

ons himself an emperor.”’
“Cut: that out!”

flared Brian Blackpool. Don’t

speak of my father that way! Don’t call him ‘old
Blackpool! If you do——”
“Waal,’ drawled Brad, “‘what if I do?”
“You'll get badly damaged!” flung back the son

“Vou're liable to be
taken back to your fine yacht on a stretcher!’

The Texan was on the point of speaking again when

Dick restrained him.
“Hold on, Brad,”

We have some business in this town,

enough to avoid trouble if possible.’

he said, ina low tone. “Go slow.
and it’s well

This was accepted as a symptom of timidity and
retreat by Blackpool’s companions,
headed chap to laugh and the goggle-eyed fellow to
erin hideously.! Brian Blackpool likewise believed the
strangers were impressed at last.

“Now if you'd asked permission to land here,” he
“that would have been different. In this town
you want to-get permission before you do things, As
you did not ask-permission to land, you'd bétter call

back your gas-boat at once and let it take you away.”

“Dat’s business,” nodded McTeague, who had be-
gun to fear that young Blackpool meant to let the
stranger remain. “I tol’ yer what was what. Now
you call yer old bo’t and git!”

‘We're not looking for trouble here,”

causing the red-.

said Merri
“Although we know you have no right —

 

 

 

or authority in forbidding us to land without permis-—

 
 

: et eee
ee aS Ne ai ue

>.

ee

 

 

his antagonist.

sion, we’re willing to avert a disagreeable encounter if
we can. We ask your permission now.”

“Too late,’ retorted the son of the master of
Smoketown, determined to show his power. “T al-
ways back McTeague up. He’s given you orders.”

“You're rather: unreasonable, aren’t you?’ said
Dick, in his mildest way. “Don’t you think you're car-
rying this thing too far?’

“Not a bit. If you think so, go ahead. You'll find
McTeague on your neck'in a minute. Perhaps you
don’t know his reputation. He’s the champion prize-
fighter of Eastern Maine. He put out Bink Casey, of
Portland, in three rounds. He broke the jaw of
Slashing Cobstone, of South Boston, in the fifth round
He fought a ten-round draw with
Young McCoy, who claims the middle-weight cham-
pionship of New England. ‘If he ever swings on you
once, he’ll put you to sleep with a single wallop. That’s
Mike McTeague, the Smoketown Terror.”

“A very dangerous person, indeed,” said Dick,
laughing in spite of himself, “and he seems to be quite
proud of his reputation as a prize-fighter. I notice
that he’s throwing out his chest.
hat is a bit too small to fit him. Some day, when he
gets up against a really good man, the size of his
chest and the swelling of his head will be suddenly re-
duced.”

“Yah!” snarled the Smoketown Terror, infuriated
by the sarcastic words of the laughing boy, “Dat’s
w’at you t’ink, is it? . Mebbe you has ‘an idee dat
you're der good man. Lay down—lay down and fer-
git it!”

With these final words, McTeague swung one of his

of a go with him.

ponderous fists and shot it out straight at Dick’s face. .

;
CHAPTER V.
BRIAN BLACKPOOL TAKES A BATH.

In all probability the bruiser expected to catch Mer-

riwell off his guard, but Dick had been watching for

just such a move, and he ducked like a flash, driving
his left into the ruffian’s wind and doubling him up.
An instant later the boy’s hard right smashed against
the vulnerable point of Mike McTeague’s jaw. °

The Smoketown Terror went down with a thud and
lay where he fell.

An astonished silence followed this blow and the
surprising result. McTeague’s companions stared at
him open-mouthed, apparently expecting him to rise
in his wrath, a raging lion, eager and quick to devour

{

TIP; TOP WEEKLY,

I observe that his,

But McTeague was in no hurry to get up. In fact,
at that time, and for some moments thereafter, he
did not realize that he was down. ‘There had been
something like a flash of lightning in his brain, ac-
companied by the explosion of many guns and _ fol-
lowed by darkness.

Dick Merriwell could strike a terrible blow, and he
had not restrained himself in the least when he landed
on the ruffan. Having no relish for a prolonged en-
counter with the Terror, he had done his best to end
it at once.

Brad Buckhart, chuckling softly, folded his arms
and leaned against a spile. Casper Steele, feeling a
quiver of excitement running over him, was ready to
give Dick a helping hand in case it was needed.

Merriwell placed his hands on his hips and kept
his eyes upon McTeague’s bewildered friends.

“Great jumpin: Jehosaphat!” gurgled the goggle-
eyed fellow, dropping his cigarette as he stared at the
recumbent figure. “He’s knocked Mike down!”

“Everlastin’ blazes!” hissed the red-headed chap.
“He’s knocked Mike out!’

“Good gwathuth!” lisped Brian Blackpool’s foppish
friend.
My starth, ith it pothible!”

“T opine the gent who was hit will realize it’s pos-
sible when he wakes up,” daughed Brad Buckhart.
“Take a look at him, you galoots—take a look at the
great Smoketown Terror, who has been fighting ten-
round draws, breaking jaws, and putting men out in

the prize-ring. He went up against the wrong gent

this time, and that’s no josh.”
Brign Blackpool shook himself as if to throw off L
trance,

“Look after McTeague, Perkins,’ he commanded,
with a motion toward the red-headed chap.
after this gent. We'll see if they can land here and

pick up trouble in this fashion.”

Perkins knelt beside Mike McTeague, while Black-

pool turned on Dick, his face like a thunder-cloud.,

“You caught Mike by surprise, fellow,”
‘He wasn’t expecting it from you. If he had been,
you'd be the one asleep now.”

?

“That may be true,” admitted Dick quietly.

Indeed, the boy’s. words and manner were still such >
that, in spite of what had happened, Brian Blackpool
could not believe he was still unafraid afid determined.

The lisping chap seized Brian by the sleeve.
“Why don’t you have them arwethted?” he asked
excitedly, “My, starth, they ought to be chucked into

   

“T nevah thaw anything tho quick ath that! —

“T'll look |

he said. ;

    

of
os
es

   
  
   
    
    
  
   
   
   
   
  
     
      
  

  
   
       

   

ee a2 TIP. TOP

   

 

the lockup! Gwathuth! ith it pothible thuch fellowth

are going to be permitted to wun at large?”

pee “Go away, Dilltwitter,”’ said Blackpool, pulling his

arm free. “Keep back and you’ll not get mixed up in

this affair.
“My starth,”’

to be a wegular wow!

This isn’t the end of it by any means.”
Auttered ,Dilltwitter,
[f Bwian getth after them, he’ll
Bwian ith the champion

give them jolly *fitth!
thparrer at college.”
Brad Buckhart guffawed at the mincing manner and
lisping words of Dilltwitter.
“There sure is a prize bird,”
why he doesn’t wear skirts?”
“My starth!” squawked Dilltwitter.
thulting me now, that feller ith!’
“Come now,’ you chaps, ” said Blackpool grimly,
“we'll have no more of this. If you remain here until
You
Call

%

he said. ‘‘Wonder

a aR sia See ae Sa eat

He’ th. in-

 

McTeague recovers, he'll murder some of you.
understand your orders. I’m backing him up.
your tender and get out of this.” |

“We've landed here,” said Dick, “with the inten-
tion of transacting a little business in Smoketown.
We're not going to return to the yacht until that busi-
ness is finished, We’re not looking for trouble. I
think I said that before. Nevertheless, if you force
trouble upon us, you'll have to take the consequences.
I’m speaking to yott directly, Blackpool.”’ :

This was practically a challenge. The dark face
of Brian Blackpool seemed to take on a purplish
tinge.

“T see you’re bound to get what’s coming to you,’
he said harshly. “As Dilltwitter remarked, I’m reck-
oned the best sparrer in college. You struck
Teague and knocked him out. He wasn’t prepared
for you, but Iam. I’m not anxious to fight, but, un-
— less you obey the orders you’ ve received, I’m going to
- give you a thrashing.”’

 

“Hoo-way! hoo-way!”’ ied Dilltwitter. “That'th

4 be a.dweadful wow!”

At this point Merriwell quickly slipped off his yacht-
ing-coat and ‘tossed it, along with his capi, to Ruckhart,

i

_ who caught them deftly, el I ;

onal, ” he said, “‘let’s
tart. If I handle you, if I prove myself the best man,
we'll go about our business unmolested. If you prove
to ‘be the bestman, we'll return to. the: “yacht.
understood } Beek 1 ean

; hep fool!” rasped Brian, as ‘fl also sidmoved his

  

 

   

 

“there’th going

none of these blows were effective.

Mee,

the talk, Bwian! Thail into him! My starth, there'll é

“As you are determined to force it upon us, Black=
have an tnderstanding at the

Is that ,

. one pee a fancy because a happened to

 

WEEKLY. |

 

catch McTeague

phenom!

minutes
“Answer me,”

napping that you’re something of a
Pil take that out of you in about three

demanded Dick. “If I prove myself
the best man, we’re to go about our business unmo-
lested ?”

PAH: ) Pes,"
agreed.

was the sneering assurance, “that’s
Now get ea for ’m going to do you up in
a double-quick hurry.

“Hel he! he!” tiaghed
“That’th jutht what he’ll do!
; Pea ls Pare ton ott
know him! [’ve theen him fight!
Bwian—thmath him!”

Dilltwitter excitedly.
Goodneth gwathuth, I
Thmath the fellow,

“Fair play now,” called Steele.

In an instant the two lads were at it, and for about
thirty seconds the witnesses saw one of the sharpest,
snappiest, scrappiest fights it had ever been their for-
tune to witness. Dick did, not escape wholly un-
scathed. Three times he was Hit by Blackpool, but
At length he
landed upon the son of the magnate of Smoketown,
and Blackpool’s shoulders struck the planking of the
‘wharf,

The fellow was not knocked out, however.
at once.

He rose

“Shall we get into it, Brian?” cried Perkins, who,
having seen that McTeague was recovering, now gave
his entire attention to the encounter. “I and Goggles
are ready to give you a hand, Eh, Goggles?”

“Sure,” croaked the chap with the big mouth.
“Jest say the word and we'll pitch in.”’

“Do say the word,’’ entreated Buckhart. “I’m sure
sore on being deprived of any part of this scrimmage.
I’m certain itching to take a hand in it. Just come at
me, some one.
won't you please?
Pecos/is pining for amusement.”

advanced on Dick.

fellow and I!’

He made a sudden rush. His fist shot out. _ Merri-
well seemed to give way, but he ducked and half-
turned, permitting Ano $ arm to shoot over his
shoulder. — |

Quick as thought Blackpool’s hand was caught, ie a4
With a surge and a heave, Mer-

the palm upturned.
riwell sent the fellow’s heels spinning through the air,
and a cry of amazement followed, for Blackpool was

hurled fairly over the edge of the wharf, disappear. _
ing rank view as he spun downward toward the water. ge

Just sail into me and punch me a few,
The Unbranded Maverick of the

“Keep out of it!” snarled Blackpool, as he again
“We'll settle it between sy this

         
     
     
  
    
  
    
   
    
   
     
    
   
    
 
   
  
   
 
   
  
   
  
   
  
  
   
   
  
 

 

a ee

 

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pe eer. ok My oe

-*

ee

       
      
    

RiP TOE

 

4

“Well,” laughed Buckhart, “I sure didn’t expect

he'd go for a bath so sudden.”
>

 

“Can he swim?” asked Dick of Blackpool’s compan-

  

; ions. “If he can’t, I suppose I'll have to get my clothes
2 wet pulling him out.”

“He’s swimming, all right,” announced Steele, who,
had leaped to the edge of the wharf and was looking
downward.

It was true, for Blackpool struck out with. strong
strokes the moment he rose to the surface,

“Give me my coat and cap, Brad,”
reaching for them. “I think that: ought to satisfy
Mr. Blackpool and his friends.
town while they’re fishing him out of the wetness.”

No one attempted to stop them as they moved away.

said Merriwell,

 

Let’s jog along into

and “Goodneth gwathuth!” and giving vent to a dozen
other expressions of wonderment, dismay, and anger.
Buckhart laughed, with a hand on Dick’s shoulder.
“T reckon there’s no mistake about it, pard,”” he said.
“We’re ‘sure going to have a right jolly time in these
parts.”

 

CHAPTER VI. J
TBs RAE CoP ORE

It was a crooked, ugly street that led up from the
wharves to the main part of the town. Down near the
wharves was the poorer section of the place, where

 

packed together like sardines. At this hour the men
. Were working in the distant quarries, from which came
) \ the occasional jarring boom of a blast. A few hope-
less, slattern women looked forth from the open doors
# or the unscreened windows of the huts. A few dirty,
- unhealthy children played in the yards or the street
and stared in apprehending wonderment at the three
~ clean youths who passed. It was seldom that they
saw anything really clean in that. part of Smoketown.
| ©» “Something doing up ahead, partner,” observed
> Buckhart,
+ collected in front of one of the cleaner and better-look-
| ihg houses. “Wondet if they’ve had a fire, a fight,
| or a murder thereabouts.”
: But when the trio drew near they discovered that it
_ was an eviction. Several rough-looking men were un-
i! -ceremoniously dumping furniture out of the house,
- commanded by a thin, grimy, long-armed person, who
_ wore a tarnished silver star pinned proudly upon his
_ breast.

  

WEEKLY.

truck out lively now!

Behind them Dilltwitter was spluttering “My starth!” —

lived in squalid huts. swarms of foreign laborers -

nodding toward a small crowd that had —

This man was chewing tobacco, with which
| his unkempt beard was stained. He gave off orders —

  
         
      

;
now and then, but did not lift his own hand to do any
part of the real work.

“Hurry up there, you fellers!’’ he cried. ‘Git that
There’s a family of Eyetalians
already to move in jest as soon as the house is cleaned
out. Ive gut orders to clean her out in‘a hurry, and
when Jordan Jones takes orders he executes them, you
bate. Here, here, Briggs, Gowan, don’t bother to
Don’t waste time luggin’
Them people

We ain’t

handle the stuff so keerful.
anything out that you ken throw out.
have been warned, and they didn’t move.
responsible for breakage.”

For the most part, the on-lookers were respectable,
fairly-intelligent-appearing persons of the laboring
class. There were a few women in the gathering.
They talked together in low tones, shaking their heads
with a sad and hopeless air. _ Nearly all the men looked
on in grim silence, about which there seemed some-
thing almost ominous. Now and then one of them
would grind his teeth and mutter an oath beneath his
breath.

“What’s the trouble?” asked Dick, pausing at the
elbow of a six-footer, who had a clean face and a clean
pair of hands, although his patched clothing was de-
cidedly soiled.

The tall man glanced at Dick and his friends with
an expression of some surprise. Apparently he had
been so absorbed in what was going on that he had
failed to observe their approach.

“What's the trouble, sir?” repeated the boy.

“They're turning Adam Blair and his family into

the street,”’
“Why ?”
“Because

was the gtim answer.

he can’t pay his rent. Because Lavan
Blackpool owns that house. Because Lavan Black-
pool has no further use for Adam Blair.”

“Where is Adam Blair now ?”

“Sick to his bed.
guess.”
of his illness?”

The Smoketowner shook his head.

“Nobody knows,” he answered.
can’t tell, but some folks suspect.”

“Susp rect wh at?” Bie '

After elancing once more at the bey the man low-

ered his voice and whispered a single word:
“Poison.” ’

7
:

“Poison: ee

They’ ‘ll bring him out soon, I s

“What's the matter with him? W hat' s the nature —

“Even the doctors

“Not sO loud, youngster, unless you want to to get

Meher at

    
 
  
   
   
   
    
 
   
     
  
   
   
     
     
     
       
      
 

Nig a — a
pt Ret aS ORR Gh ne a eg secrete te et

ert Vai

AEST

4

   
  

 
    
  
  
  
  
  
 
  

  

tt

into trouble. You’re a stranger here, 1 take it—you
and your friends.”

“Yes, we’re strangers here,” nodded Dick.

“Perhaps you don’t know the condition of affairs
in this town. Perhaps you may think that I and these
men you see standing about are common loafers. If
you do think so; you’re wrong. We've got families to
support, the most of us, and all we ask is honest work
and honest pay. Because we ask living wages, because
we're unwilling to live like dogs, because we have
some affection for our wives and our children and wish
to provide them with the humble necessities of life,
because we dared ask for a small raise to meet the in-
creased cost of house ,rent, provisions, clothes, and
everything we have to have, we’re thrown out of our
jobs and our places are filled with dagos, who can ex-
ist on a dollar a day or less and save money. Our
places are filled by dagos, who can make a meal on a
burdock root and a crust of black bread. Oh, I’m
serious, young fellow; I’ve seen them do it. I’ve seen
a dago pull up a burdock root, clean it off, and eat it,
with his bread, and he made a meal off, it, too. We
read a lot in the papers about your Chinese and
Japanese labor in California, but I don’t cal’late the
conditions are as bad there as they are right here in
Smoketown.”’

The man spoke with considerable repressed feeling,
although he seemed cautious to keep his voice lowered,
and it was apparent that he was possessed by a certain
dread of being overheard by some one who would
make trouble for him.

“T’m really surprised to learn that the -conditions
can be as bad here in this State,” said Dick. “I had
no idea of it.”

“Certainly not,’ was the reply. “You don’t read
much about it in any of the newspapers, and folks
outside don’t know what’s going on. I can remember
the time when there wasn’t a foreigner in all Smoke-
town. I can remember the time when the quarries and
the kilns were operated by Americans, plain Yankees
like myself. We took something of an interest in our
~ town, then. Some of us hoped to save money enough
to buy our little homes and have a few dollars tucked
away against the coming of a rainy day. Things have
changed of late. » Unless there’s another change in a
few years every working man in Smoketown will be a

dago or some other foreigner. You'll find no Ameri- |

cans here save the bosses and the people who. have

- business somehow connected with lime-burning.”

“This Adam Blair who is being evicted was a lime-
burner ?”

TR TOP

   

  

WEEKLY.

   

  

“Yes; and he was our leader when we asked for a

small raise in our wages.”’

“Ah! I begin to understand,’ nodded Dick. “You

struck, did you not?”

“We stopped work when Blackpool and the com-
pany flatly refused to entertain or negotiate with our
committee, headed by Blair.”

“And then—what ?”

“And then they shipped the dagos in here as fast
as they could and filled our places. Blackpool said
he’d see us starve in the streets before he’d add another
penny to our wages. He calls us the scum of the
earth. He regards us as machines, not human be-
ings.”

“Was there any trouble—any rioting during the
strike ?”’

“Only once when some of the boys had a clash with
the Eyetalians. The boys were not to blame for it,
either. The dagos started the trouble, but we know
who was behind it. We know Blackpool himself set
them on in order that he might have an excuse for
swearing in a host of his tools as armed deputies
to intimidate us. He has twenty or more of them
under pay now, and every man is armed with
two pistols. In the office of the company they say
there ate two dozen loaded rifles ready for these men
any time they wish to use them. We know that more
than once they’ve tried to stir us up and lead us into
doing something that would give them an excuse to
shoot us down. They think they can frighten us into
submission if they can only find some excuse for kill-
ing a few of us. It was Adam Blair who held the
boys in check. When they got hot-headed and talked
of destroying the kilns, Adam urged moderation. He
told them they could not win in that manner. He told
them they would turn the sympathy of outsiders
against them if they started rioting and destroying
property. And then he was taken sick sudden. He
has been mighty near death. But now they think he’ll
pull through, though he ain’t had the care of a doctor
in the last week.”

“Hasn’t had the care of a doctor? Why not?”

“Because there don’t no doctor dare visit him.”

“You don’t mean to say 7 3

“T mean to say that everybody knows the three doc-
tors in Smoketown have been notified to keep away
from Adam, and they’ve kept away.” .

“Partner,” growled Buckhart, who had listened at-
tentively, “this sure makes my blood sizzle some more!

 

I'd like to;tell that gent, Blackpool, what I think of |

him! Td certain burn the air with my language.”

  

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a

' they’d come to their senses;

The tall man smiled the least bit over the Texan’s
words.

“If you, a stranger, unaffected by what has hap-
pened here, feel that way, you ought to understand
how we feel.”’

“T- judge I-do,” said Brad.
questioned
see him, ill

“But what will become of Adam Blair?”
Casper Steele: “Are you people going to
and helpless, turned into the open streets?
one to take him in?

Ts there no
Is there no one to give him a
friendly hand?”

too,” answered the man

Ve’ve had our orders.

“You don’t understand everything, stranger.”

“Well, this beats everything I ever heard of or read
about!’ spluttered Steele. “
dead set against laborers who went on strike.
had no syinpathy for them, but in this case my feel-
ings are with the laborers.”

By Jove! I’ve usually been
I’ve

“My name is Holmes—Roger ” ‘said the
tall man, giving Casper a glance of gratitude. “I had
a little money when this strike broke out, but I’ve
used it all—I’ve done what I could to help the needy
who had nothing.
a dollar to my name, and my rent falls due one week
from to-day. If I can’t pay, I’ll be warned out. If
I don’t go, I'll be put out as sure as they’re putting out
Adam Blair. We’ve waited here in Smoketown, think-

Holmes,

At the present time I’ve less than

ing things might shift somewhat, for the dagos know.

nothing about lime-burning, and it will be poor lime
the company will put out for a while. The company
is losing money every day, and they know it. It
would cost them less in the end to give us back our
jobs and the raise we ask for. We've kept thinking

about it.”
“Why ¢ don’t you offer to arbitrate?” oo Dick.
“We have.”

“What reply did you get?”

“We were told that the company had nothing to
arbitrate.”

At. this point Roger Holmes stopped speaking .
abruptly, and his square jaws closed with a snap like
that of a steel trap.

A strange light came into his

eyes as he stared at two men who were approaching.
a 4 a

Ns

Be trimmed. On his head was a soft black hat.
} ried a heavy cane,

One of these men was tall, square-shouldered, full-

chested, ftll-necked, and dressed from head to feet in.
well-made clothes of blue serge and modern cut.

He
wore a full black beard, cut square and carefully

He car-
His companion was a slender,

Hip. TOP WEEKLY.

but I dunno—I dunno,

boys.

short-chinned, nervous person, with colorless hair and
eyebrows and eyelashes which seemed almost white.
“There,” said Dick, mt eyes fixed upon the huge
man of the black beard; “there is Blackpool himself.”
“You're right,” “that is
Lavan Blackpool and his private secretary, P. McGee
McKay.
dan Jones and his deputies do the job properly.”
Blackpool fascinated Dick. There was power and
authority of a brutal sort in every look and every

muttered Roger Holmes,

They’ve come down to make sure that Jor-

movement of the man.

Observing the approach of Mr. Blackpool, Sheriff
Jones began once more to shout his orders at the men
who were casting Adam Blair’s household goods into
the street.

“Well
sheriff, ‘

, Jones,’ said Blackpool, stopping near the

hate e you finished ?’
“Pretty near, sir—pretty near,” was the answer.
“Where’s that incendiary, Blair, and his family?”
“THis wife and children, insist on sticking by him,
The boys are moving him ‘out now. Here they

”
come.

sir.

As he spoke, two men, one bearing the head of a
cot-bed, the other carrying the foot, appeared at the
door and descended the steps. On the bed, pale and
helpless, lay a middle-aged man, whose hair and beard —
were slightly tinged with gray. _The bed was followed
closely by a neatly dressed woman, to whose skirts
clung a tiny lad of ten, also weeping, and hobbling as
fast as he could with the aid of a single crutch. The
boy’s right leg was missing from a point some, inches
above the knee.

But the surprise for the strangers in Smoketown
who were witnessing this. eviction came when the sick —
husband, the faithful wife and the crippled child were
followed by a slim, brown-eyed, refined-appearing,
pretty girl of sixteen, who carried a violin and a. cage
containing a canary bird.

Casper Steele clutched Dick Merriwell’s bow:

“Jove!” he breathed, his eyes fastened on the girl.
“She's, pretty, Dick.” ian
ov be crowd of men, hitherto silent, began to murmur a
as Blair and his family appeared. |
“Drop him—drop him right there,” commanded
Sheriff Jones. “Don’t waste time bothering with him, —
He’ll have to take care of himself, Is the stuff
all out? Then close the house. Lock the doors. Give
me the keys. I’ll turn them over to Mr. Blackpool. Ri

+ Wait a minute!’ cried a clear voice, as Dick Mer-

riwell stepped forward. “Don’t be too hasty, officer.’ :

i RO Re Oe ln Fo 8

 

 
   
  
  
   
  
     
         
  

SPS pe atl SPSS

appeal to your finer emotions.
a stranger here.

ee

take care of his family. Without doubt he has no

16

The eyes of every person were turned upon the boy
in surprise.

Dick faced Lavan Blackpool.

“Sir,” he said, “I understand you’re evicting this
sick man and his unfortunate family because of their
inability to pay their rent. Is that right?”

The master of Smoketown lifted his black eyebrows
and surveyed the clean-cut lad with some curiosity.

“Yes, that’s right,’ ‘he answered. “I own that
house. It’s my property. I make my property pay.
I’m a man of business. These people have refused to
pay their rent, and, therefore, they have been legally
evicted.”’

“T might question the lawfulness of the eviction,”
said Dick, “but I will not. I have my doubts if they
have been turned out of their home in a proper man-
ner. How much rent do they owe?”

“Thirty days’ rent.’

“And that is—how much?”

“Nine dollars.”

“When did this fall due?”

“Fhree days ago, on which date they were given
notice.”’ .

“I believe in the State of Maine you cannot evict
a man on less than thirty days’ notice. I may not be
correct, but that is my conviction.”

Lavan Blackpool smiled derisively.

“When rent is legally due you can evict a family any
time you can find them with their doors unlocked and
move their furniture out. At any rate, young man,
that’s what you can do in this place. I hope you
are not going to tell me the law! Possibly I know
the law quite as well as you do. They are out. The
keys are in the possession of the officers. They’ll stay

out.”

“Oh, say,’ muttered Buckhart, beneath his breath,
“wouldn’t it give me a feeling of grief to punch old
Blackpool! Wouldn’t it make me shed tears to slam
him one on his beautiful whiskers!”

“Keep still,’ cautioned Steele. ‘“Let’s hear what
Dick is going to say.”

“I’m not attempting to teach you the law, sir,” said
Merriwell. “I have no doubt but that in this town
your word is law. Perhaps it would be useless to ap-
peal to your humanity. Perhaps it would be useless to
I won't try that. I’m
I know nothing save what I have
recently heard of the right or wrong of this unfor-
tunate business. But I do know, for I have a good
pair of eyes, that this man is helpless and unable to

¢

aie EOP WEHKISY,

money to. pay his rent. I have some money with me,
and I now offer to pay the sum-due you, sir, if you will
accept it from me.”’

Blackpool smiled again.

“Hand it over,” he said; “I'll accept it.”

“T had not finished,” said Merriwell quietly. “To
the nine dollars due you I. will add nine more for
another month’s rent, and I will take it upon myself
to see that this man’s household goods are moved
hack into the house. Here, sir, are two ten-dollar bills.
Will you give me the change?”

Lavan Blackpool laughed heartily.

“You'd better keep your money in your pocket,
boy,” he said. “When you are as old as I am you'll
know the value of money. You'll not be so eager. to
throw it away on strangers.”

“I’m very much obliged for your advice, sir, but it
does not alter my present feelings in this matter. Will
you accept my offer and permit Mr. Blair to remain
beneath this roof until he recovers from his illness and
is able to care for himself and his family?”

“No,” answered Blackpool.

CHAPTER VII.

BEARDING THE LION.

This was definite, flat, and decided. Mr. Blackpool
was a decided man, and when he gave an answer he
meant it. That there was no further question became
apparent, for he turned his back on Merriwell and
spoke once more with Sheriff Jones.

Blackpool’s private secretary, P. McGee McKay,
looked the boy and his friends over coldly with those
colorless eyes of his. The light, although dimmed by
the cloud of smoke hanging above the town, seemed
too strong for the’eyes of Mr. McKay, causing him
to blink rapidly. With a faltering hand, he fumbled
at his short, weak chin. It was evident that he was
thinking, but the expression on his vapid face revealed
his thoughts to no man.

Dick now turned to ‘the cot and spoke to Adam
Blair.

“I’m very sorry for your misfortune, sir,” he said.
“Where do you expect to find shelter?”

“Thank you, my lad,” returned the helpless man
gratefully. “TI could have told you what your answer
would be. It’s not because I have failed to pay rent
that we are cast out of doors. Had Lavan Blackpool
permitted it, poor though my friends in Smoketown
are, they would have gaised the nine dollars I need.

     
   
  
   
  
   
   
  
   
  
   
  
   
   
   
 
  
  
 
   
   
      
  
 
   
   
 
   
   
   
  
   
  
  
  
   
  
  
 

 

PEP Me:

a

ne
k
d

 

 

 

       
 

 

 

Because I have had the audacity to ask for square
dealing ® behalf of myself and my fellow laborers,
Lavan’ Blackpool chooses to crush me, to:\make an ‘ex-
ample of me, to show the people of Smoketown his

 

power. It is not for myself that I am troubled, but my
wife—my children His voice faltered and
failed.

“Don’t—don’t worry about us, Adam,” said the
faithful wife, clasping his hand. “Heaven will pro-
vide a way. If you were strong, if you were well, then
we might leave this wretched hae together and go
away. We might find another home far beyond the
smoke that stains the blue sky.”

“We'll be all right, pop,’ said the cripple, with at-
tempted show of braveness. “We've got friends. We
used to have friends.
street, pop.”

The girl of the brown eyes said nothing. At least,
her lips said nothing, but her eyes, fixed on Dick, spoke
volumes.

“The little boy must be right,” vi. Merriwell.
“You'll have friends who’ll take you in.’

“T have friends who would take me in if ‘they
dared,”’ said Adam Blair, “but they have been warned
not to shelter me.. They have been threatened with
dire calamity if they give me the cover of a roof.”’

Dick was fired. His black eyes flashed as he lifted
his face and surveyed the grim and silent men.

“Is it possible,” he cried, “that you men will permit
yourselves to be intimidated and cowed. by one who
seems utterly lacking in the feelings of a man?”

Lavan Blackpool turned ponderously and fixed his

gaze upon the fearless lad. Dick saw the movement,

and he looked straight into Blackpool’s eyes.

“IT mean you, sir,” he said, throwing out his hand
and pointing straight at the man. “You may be able
to ifitimidate these unfortunate men whom you would

crush and make your slaves, but there are others who >

have no-fear of you.”

The master of Smoketown frowned like a threaten-
ing storm.

Dick waited for no words from the man. Still
athrob with deep feeling, he made his appeal to the
gathering.

“Men—for you’re yet men, I believe—are you
going to stand idly by and see this poor family cast
into. the street? Are you by such an act willing to
acknowledge that this ruthless person, who boasts of

his heartlessness and his power, has crushed and ex-

tinguished the last bit of real manhood left in you?

DIE TOS

 

They won’t let us lay out in the

Is there not one here who has the courage to take

   

     
   
 
    
    
  
   
  
   
    
   
   
   
  
 
 
  
  
   
  
   
 
 
  
  
    
  
  
   
  
  
      

WEEKLY. . | 17

Adam Blair and his family beneath the shelter of a
roof?” .

The fire in the boy’s blood communicated itself to
others.

Roger Holmes was the first to answer.

“My rent is paid for seven days yet!” he cried.
“They may turn me out then, but until then the house
is mine, and [’ll give Adam Blair shelter!”

There was a murmur of admiration that swelled
quickly into a cheer. Some of the women clapped
their hands.

And now the threatening storm broke. Lavan
Blackpool lifted his fist and shook it at Roger Holmes.

“So you defy me, do you?” he thundered. “You'll
take him in, will you? Do so at your peril, Holmes!

I own the house that covers you! I’ve decided to
make an example of this man who incited the rebellion
against the company here in Smoketown. I’ve decided
to show him what it means to set himself up against
Lavan Blackpool. It has been my intention when you,
Holmes, and your misled fellow laborers were prop-
erly punished to give you back your positions: at the
old scale. But let me tell you this, man: if you take
Blair into your house, you'll never do another stroke
of work in Smoketown. If you take Blair beneath —
your roof, you'll be evicted, as he was, when your
month expires.” :

“Evicted or not,” retorted Holmes, “I shall take him
aa

“Hurrah! hurrah!” cried the men, gaining courage
every moment.

“Bully for you, Holmes!” shouted one of them.
“We'll back ye up!”

“And I will seé,” said Dick Merriwell, “that Mr. |
Blackpool is tendered another month’s rent in advance. ”
In that case he ees accept. In that case he cannot,
lawfully evict you.”

“Your rent is nine dollars a month at the present
time, Holmes,” said Blackpool instantly. “It’s not
enough for that house. I’ve been permitting you to
live there on the payment of that insufficient sum be-
cause you were at work for the company. Neverthe-
less, for some time I’ve been contemplating raising
your rent. I now give you notice that it is raised to’
fiity dollars a month.”

"This produced a growl and a chorus of hisses from
the crowd.

“Shame! shame!” cried the men, and “Shame!
shame!” oe ae women. 4
   

  

eat

 

$n AR ae OR BITE ENO CSPOT: RE

“Never mind, Merriwell, old boy,’ sard Casper

i Steele, stepping quickly to Dick’s side.

eer

his family
mutist have shelter somewhere, éven though old Black-

 
  
  
  
  
  
 
 
  
 
   
  
   
 
 
 
 
 
  
  
  
   
 
  
  
 
  
  
  
 
  
 
 
 
  
 
   
  
   
         
 
    
     
   

i

3 pool proposes to commit highway robbery. I’m with
F you. Here’s twenty-five dollars. Let’s offer it to him
fat once.”

‘ag “Let me in on that,” urged Buckhart. “Let me con-
_ ttibute something.”

Po. But already Dick had produced two tens and a five,

“sag

which he placed with the money handed him by Steele.
“Mr. Blackpool,” he said, advancing upon the man
and tendering him the money, “hére’s the fifty dollars
you demanded in advance for a month’s rent of the
house occupied by Roger Holmes, I offer it to you in
the presence of these witnesses.”
Blackpool did not glance round. Totally ignoring
Dick, he continued talking with the sheriff.
“Gentlemen,” cried Dick, “I call you to witness that
ve offered Mr, Blackpool the money that he de-
mands. Mr. Blackpool, I offer it, and I’m going to
make sure that you see it unless you shut your eyes.”
He thrust the money almost beneath the nose of
Lavan Blackpool.
_ With an oath the master of smoketow n turned furi-
- ously on the dauntless lad. |

promt

Se

a

“Tye got just a’ few words to say to you!” he
_ snarled; “a mighty few words! I don’t know who you
are, or how you happen to be here, but I do know that
you'd better get out of Smoketown just about as soon
as you can! ‘That’s all.”
_ Dick passed Casper Steele’s money back to him,
“Tn. case there’s anything like law and justice in
these parts,” he said, {I think that. will hold Mr.
_ Blackpool for a while. He set his own price and then
‘refused to accept the money. Legally he cannot evict
_Roger Holmes for another month, at least.”

_ Adam Blair called to the boy. Reaching up, he
clasped Dick’s hand, a smile on his furrowed face.

_ “You're a nervy youngster ,’ he said admiringly. “I
swear I like your style. If we had a few men like you
n Smoketown, things would be different here. The
boys are all right, but they’ve been ground under
foot until there’s little nerve left in them. Just the
same, I knew they'd stand by me. 1 knew they
wouldn’t leave. me without shelter.” |

“Not much! " cried Roger Holmes. “Get hold here,
Dboys! There are enough of you to move everything
he’s got by hand except that stove. We'll get a truck
“to mové the stove., Take hold of this bed.
Some on to my, house.”

   
 

 
 

Comme on.

Cheering, 1 the crowd hastened to seize the furniture, (Texan. . aE Mil

18 : TIP TOP WEEKLY,

and in a very few moments a procession 01 men wa
carrying the stuff up the street. At the ! hd of this
pracession moved Roger Holmes and three friends,
bearing the cot on which lay Adam Blair:

Ere she left, in company with her mother and erip-
pled brother, the girl of the brown eyes touched Dick
Merriwell’s arm with a trembling -hand.

“TI don’t know how we can thank you,” she said, 1
a low voice. “It was such a brave thing to do. 1 dei
think you realize how brave you were to face Lavan
I am stire you'd better
heed his warning and leave Smoketown as soon as

Black kpoot the way you did.

possible.”

 

CHAPTER VIUL

AGATHA BLAIR.

The boys proceeded to the Western Union Tele-

graph Office, where Casper Steele sent a message to
Phillip Rolfe, asking permission to. pitch a summer
camp on Pine Point.

An immediate reply was requested.

“To be sure before we go ahead,” said Dick, “I
think we better wait until we receive Mr. Rolfe’s re-

_ply before I wire any of the fellows.”’

‘‘That’s right,” nodded Steele. “I have an idea that
Mr. Rolfe will answer without delay in case he is at

home. We should receive his message in an hour or
two.” ; arin
“Meantime,” questioned Buckhart, “where’ll we

hang out?”
“We might look Smoketown over,”
“Waugh!” exclaimed the Texan.
all I want to see of this burgh.”

suggested Dick.

“And it might be just as well,” suggested Steele,
“not to prance around too promiscuously.
madé some enemies here, and they
up trouble for us. Both
father ve certain to entertain no friendly feelings to-
ward us.’

“Tf we're going to hang up here a while,” said Brad,
“T sure feel the need of hitting the oral pile some-
where. Wonder if there isn’t a hotel?’

They went forth in search of a hotel and soon found —

the only public house of which Smoketown boasted.

‘It was a peculiar, square-framed building, with dingy

walls, dingy windows, and an uninviting aspect. Over
the door was the sign, “PrNEwoop House.”

“Wonder where the pine woods are,” grinned the

“T opine [I’ve seen |

We've
might kick
3rian Blackpool and his —

 

 

    
   
      
 

*
¥
#
a
a
Y

8

SS

 

oh

4
fe
at,
tt
>

 

 

TIP TOP WEEKLY. 19

a

“Away in the background yonder, IJ. fancy,’
Steele.

“Or in the lumber from which the building was con-
structed,”’ put in Dick. “I suppose the hotel was built
mainly of pine.”

“I opine so,” punned Buckhart.

The proprietor himself was behind the desk. He
was in his shirt-sleeves, and a cob pipe was in his
mouth. He eyed the lads with an expression of some
surprise as they approached. A few loafers were
idling about. All eyes were turned on the strangers in
Smoketown.

“What time do you have lunch, sir?” inquired Mer-
riwell.

The man behind the desk removed his pipe, spat
on the floor, and grunted:

“Lunch? We don’t eat no lunch here.
ready in an hour.
supper at the Pinewood House.”

said

Dinner’ll be

“Dinner in.an hour will just about hit us,” said
Dick, as he took a pen from the Itish potato into which
it had been jabbed and prepared to write on the soiled
register.

“Dinner for three, hey?’ said the man behind the
desk, as he turned the register and surveyed the names
written upon it. “That'll be fifty cents apiece.”

“Here you are,”
dollar bill.

“Thank ye,” said the man, handing back fifty cents
in change. “Jest make yourselves comfortable and
I’ll send word to the kitchen so that you'll have a
square feed. I guess you ain’t been long in Smoke-
town, eh?”

“Not very,” was the reply.

“When’d you git in?” ,

“A short time ago.”

“How'd ye come?” 4

“By water, Mr. Steele’s yacht is in the harbor.”

At this the man behind the desk and the loafers
looked Casper Steele over with renewed interest, for
the proprietor of a yacht must be.a person of some
importance, even though he was scarcely less than a
boy.

“Sailing-yacht ?” inquired the inquisitive person in

said Dick, as he passed out a two-

39

‘shirt-sleeves.

- “Steam,” said Dick»

The man coughed.

“Steam, hey? Well, that’s a purty slick way of git-
tin’ round. Don’t have to depend on the wind. You
can go when you want to. Pleasure trip?”

“In a way, yes.” 8

~

We have breakfast, dinner, and“

-a whole bunch of ’em, and there was four or five —

glass screwed into one eye.

    
   
  
  
  
    
  
  
  
  
  
   
  
  
  
   
  
   
  
  
   
   
   
  
    
 
  
   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
   
    
    
   

“No partic’lar business in Smoketown, then?”

“In a way, yes,” repeated Dick. “We ran in here
to send a telegram, and we expect an answer soon.
Would you mind sending word to the Western Union
Office that we're here? Notify them to send the an-
swer to Mr. Steele’s message to this hotel, rf you
please.”

“Hey, Jim!” cried the man behind the desk.
here! Wake up! Git lively!” |

A dirty, sleepy-eyed boy pulled himself out of a
corner and approached the Texan.

“Jim will take your message for a dime,”
the man.

Dick wrote upon a slip of paper, folded it, handed
it to the boy, and gave him a quarter. The boy de-
parted at once. ;

“Tm Seth Herbon, proprietor of the Pinewood
House,” explained the man behind the desk. “We
don't have many towerists like you fellers here. If
you’re looking for anything swell in the way of ac-
commodations, mebbe we can’t satisfy ye.”’

“T don’t think you need to be at all disturbed about
that, Mr. Herbon,” smiled Dick. “Such accommoda-
tions as the house affords will be good enough for us,
I’m sure.”

“Come

explained

This seemed to please the proprietor, who nodded
and: sucked at the stem of his old pipe, although the
pipe had gone out. <

“Some folks seem to be mighty fussy and stuck up,”
he said. “Last year we had’ some towerists in here,

women in the party. They come down on me “anex-
Pei and I wasn’t jest prepared for so many. “Ttol
“em so, but I done my best to feed ’em. Couldn’t put
*em all down to one table, and so two or three had
to set at another table with some of the reg’lar board-
ers. They sorter turned up their noses. They gut to
makin’ fun of the grub and the people in the dinin’-
room. That didn’t set very well on our stomachs.
We're plain folks, and we may not look too sharp and
bright, but we ain’t fools, and we know when we're
guyed. a

“One of the men with the end had some little —
mutton-chop whiskérs and wore a single-barreled eye-
I guess he’d broke his
Epertacles, and so he was gittin’ along with half of
‘em. He kept haw-hawin’ and sayin” supposed-to-be
funny things, The women they tee-heed every ti
this bright chap gut off one of his witty remarks abou
Smoketown and the Pinewood Hou use and the grub.
Rurty soon nae Shovel, having stood it about asl

        

  

          
 

TOP

ie 20 LP
as he could, riz up and called for the
everybody. Then Hank he made a little speech.
said the people of Smoketown was highly

attention of
He
honored.
He said they Was plumb took by surprise. ‘He said
they was completely onprepared to welcome the Grand
. Duke of Squedunk along with the Duchess of Hobo-

i ken and their retinue. I don’t know what retinue
Ht means, and I guess Hank didn’t know. When he,

_~ spoke of the Grand Duke of Squedunk, Hank sorter
bowed profoundly toward the guy with the mutton-
chops and the single-barreled glass. He
sight more profound to one of.them giddy females
| _~when he mentioned the Duchess of The
-_ reg’lar boarders took to laughin’ at Hank’s like
they was goin’ to split. And, would you believe it?
_ them towerists gut rippin’ mad and said they was in-
te sulted and raised a dreadful fuss before they left.
_ They didn’t seem to see the joke when it was turned’ in
their direction. That’s the way with lots of people,
1 notice. As long as they’re having fun guyin’ other
folks they laugh and laugh, but the minute the laugh
is turned on them they git sore and let their dander
rise. I jest thought I’d tell you chaps this so if you're
inclined to have a little fun at the dinner-table you
won't resent it in case some of the boys have fun, too.”’
_. “Many thanks, Mr. Herbon,” smiled Dick, “but I
hardly. think you needed to take all that trouble

bowed a

wen

Rigen sce

Hoboken,
words

   
   
  
  
  
  
   
   
   
    
     
     
 
    

 

‘paying atténtion to their own business, and when we
pay fifty cents for dinnex we don’t expect a two-dollar
_ meal.”

 

  

“Well, jthat’s all right!’ cried the hotel- keeper
heartily. “That's reasonable and sensible. Now, if
T’d tried to stick ye by charging ye double price, same’s
soine people do towerists, it would be different. You’ d
have something to kick over then. It's my way to
_/treat everybody square, whether they wear overalls or
silk hats. Set down and make yourselves to home.
There’s the latest Bangor paper, with all the news in
it. If you don’t want to read, there’s an* old Police
Gazette, with pee of pictures to aoe abe

 

         
      
       
     
    
       
     
   
      
 
    
   

 
 

 
 

 
 
 
 

  

  

Following ti this,

 
  

old them of the eviction of Adam Blair and the part
¢ three asap had ae in that little rg

  

WE

‘sible for me to stand by and see what was transpiring

We're not inclined to make sport of people who are
Blackpool will have revenge on him.”

2 would prove to be the stay and support of her parents.

‘was: like a fair flower flourishing in a gar den of weeds,

» drew one or two of the = ‘eile a corner and ©

EKLY.

surprised to see Adam Blair’s daughter hesitating at

the door of the hotel. She saw him looking out and 1
made a slight signal with her hand. | i

Dick hurried forth and joined her outside, lifting 4
his yachting cap as if greeting the finest lady in the “
land. 7

face was somewhat flushed, and there was
an anxious light in her eyes.

“I suppose you think it very strange that I should i f
in a low tone, *

The girl’s

come here to speak, with you,” she said,

“but I’ve come to, give you a warning. You may not

remember me. You may not have noticed me at all. \
I’m Agatha Blair. You were very kind to my father, it
and you were very brave in facing Lavan Blackpool ¥:
and talking to him the way you did, but I’m afraid { .
you made a serious mistake, and trouble may follow.” "

“Miss Blair,” said the boy sincerely, “it was impos- ee
without telling that autocratic brute what I thought of
him.”

“Hush!

 

Don’t sp@ak so loudly! Don’t speak of

him that way, or you'll surely regret it. It was a fine me

thing you did. I wanted to thank you then, but I | |

couldn’t find words. Lavan ‘Blackpool had overawed 4 *
the men so that they were all afraid to offer us the — i
slightest help in our time of need. Your fearlessness a
aroused them, and now I feel sure they’ll stand by us. te
Still, I know Mr. Holmes will be evicted as we were. ae

 

esr’

hings have come to a pretty pass in this supposed-
to-be free country when money can give a man such
power,” said Dick warmly. “Why don’t these men
leave Smoketown and go elsewhere ?”

“That’s what they'll have to do, many of them,”
was the sad reply. ‘“Their homes are here, and 'they’ve |
planned to spend the rest of their lives here, but they'll
have to go, We shall do so as soon as we can. I don’t
know when that will be, for we have no money to

move. I presume away will open for tis,”

Beneath her sadness there was a certain air of hope
and confidence and untested strength. The boy felt
that in the darkest hour this slender, brown-eyed girl

He found himself wondering at her. She was so dif- —
ferent from anything he had expected to find in the.
choking, blighting atmosphere,.of Smoketown. She

“You are right,” he said encouragingly, “a way will
open. | Never lose faith in Providence. I’m not
going to forget you or your family, J Miss. ot: ie
shall be near ao some tithe to 2 SOs
papel Ge

She looked at him questioningly.
“You have no thought of remaining in Smoketown,
asked, alarmed. “You cannot do

have you?’ she

that:”

“*T have no desire to remain in Smoketown, but, as I
said, I shall be near.
Pine Point,
t of our friends will join us‘there in case we obtain per-
We hope

We are planning to camp on
three miles along the coast. A number
} mission to pitch our camp upon that Point.
to spend some weeks at Pine Point.”
She shook her head quickly.
“You'll not be able to do so,”’
ratiom ‘You've

ruined for

aroused both

your chances already,
Lavan Blackpool and his son
By chance I heard Brian speaking with
I heatd him telling Mr. Blackpool’ how
you had landed against orders at the Eastern Pier.
I heard him telling how you had attacked and struck
Mike McTeague down. Lavan Blackpool was furi-
ously angry. He vowed you should regret it ere you

you've

{ against you.
his father.

 

) left Smoketown to-day. That’s why I hurried here
» to find you. If they were to see me talking with
7 you 5

i “For your own sake,” interrupted Dick, “you'd bet-
os ter go. I thank you for the warning, Miss Blair.

| We'll find a way to take care of ourselves. Lavan
Blackpool must be made to realize that there is a law
He must be made to understand that’ he
I think we'll

« in the land.
| cannot bully and browbeat all humanity.

 

~~ shall h
don’t forget that it’s
fore dawn.”

sar from me again. Have good courage, arid
often the darkest hour just be-

 

| She flashed him a look of gratitude and hesitatingly
; held out her hand. He grasped that hand and gave it
a warm pressure. !
“Good-by,” she murmured.
“Not good-by,” he said, “for I know we'll meet
again.”

 

appeared up the smoky street, and then he reentered
the hotel. :

a

 

CHAPTER IX.

BLACKPOOL’S

 

ULTIMATUM.

A Western Union messenger appeafed with a yellow
envelope for Casper Steele. Steele_tore the envelope
‘open and glanced at the message.

“All right, boys,” he cried, with satisfaction, “here

WEEKLY.

 

was her positive decla-

once toward the dining-room.

them. Several of the regular boarders sat at the same a
table. One of these entered into conversation with =
the boys and sought to satisfy his curiosity by pro- 3
pounding numerous questions. | a

The food might have been worse, There was beef- =

a camp on that Point, Miss Blair, and, if we do, you:

near the table, he fastened his gaze on Dick, whom He

He watched her until her graceful figure had dis-

a little business with you.” - 3 i

ner of the boy w

the first time in his life, perhaps, a person had spoken

   

  
   
  
 
    
   
  
  
 
   
     
  
  
  
 
 
  
  
  
   
  
  
   
  
  
   
  
  
   
    
   
    
   
  
  
   
  
   
 
   
   

we have our pet
think
“You bet
“We'll camp right there.”
As the messenger was about to leave Dick stopped
him.
“Wait a moment,”

ermission to camp on Pine Point, and I
that decides it.’
it does!” said Buckhart.

your boots

he said. “I have several mes-
sages for you to take.”

He wrote those messages in a hurry, reckoned them
up and paid the boy, giving instructions that they
were to be sent without delay.

A few moments later a brazen gong clanged through
the building, and several of the waiting men started at

cer

[hat must be the dinner signal,’ said Steele.
“Come on, fellows.”

They entered the dining-room and were given seats
at a long table covered with a soiled white cloth, A

waitress, with sleeves pushed up to her elbows, served

steak, fried potatoes, sliced bread, vegetables, and,
rather muddy coffee. a

In the midst of the meal several persons came
marching into the dining-room. Lavan Blackpool was
at their head, followed by his son, his private secre-
tary, P. McGee McKay, and Foss Dilltwitter.

Seth Herbon, looking decidedly troubled, appeared
a moment later and hastened to join the party.

“There they are, gov’nor,” said Brian, pointing to-
ward Merriwell and his companions.

“T see them!” growled the master of Smoketown,
advancing heavily.

His shaggy black eyebrows were wied and his
face wore a forbidding expression. Taking a position

addressed,

“You seem to be the head of this bunch,” he said. —
“Anyhow, you're the or one of he three. I ee $:

“T never transact business while I’m dining, | sir,’
was the quiet retort. “If you'll kindly wait until Tye 3
finished, P'll give you a few minutes of my-time.”

. Lavan Blackpool growled disgustedly, for the. man-—
was his manner in addressing people.
For

      
 
 

 
  

who sought him on unpleasant business affairs.

     
 

  

     

thus. to him, and he did not uae MoS ide.

ee Ssh
BEEP IS

ha ech
“You'll give me your time and attention now,” he
declared thunderously. “I’ve been informed that you
and your friends are planning to camp on Pine Point.”
i “Your information is accurate, sir,” assured. Merri-
well.

“Well, you won’t camp there!”
ies, ~~ “Why not; may I ask?”

“ “Because I forbid it.”

HT “And who are you?”

“Who am I?” snarled the master of Smoketown.
vi “Who amI? Iam Lavan Blackpool, and what I say
i goes in these parts.”

My “You are Lavan Blackpool, the self-appointed ruler
He of Smoketown,” said Dick; “but Lavan Blackpool, of
a Smoketown, has no authority over Pine Point.”

“No authority? I’d like to know why not! You'll
find I have authority !”

“Do you own that Point?”

“T have claims upon it.”

“Which have not been substantiated by law. Your

claims are worthless, sir. The rightful owner of Pine
Point is Phillip Rolfe, of Boston. He is the only man
who has authority to forbid us camping there. He’s
the only man from whom we will take orders.”

“Do you mean to say Rolfe has given you permis-
sion to camp on that Point?” demanded Blackpool in-
credulously.

“That’s precisely what we mean to say, sir,” fodded
‘Casper Steele, as he produced his telegram. “Here is

our authority directly. from Mr. Rolfe himself. Read
Blackpool accepted the telegram and read it. He

crushed the yellow sheet contemptuously and flung it
upon Steele’s plate.

“T don’t care what authority you have!” he rasped,
“T. forbid you camping on that Point, and you'll find
you'd better pay heed. Permission from Phillip Rolfe,
eh? Well) Phillip Rolfe bought that piece of land for
the purpose of building a hotel there, I believe. He
_ hasn’t built it, has he? Why not? I'll tell you why.
Because he doesn’t dare. “Because I’ve given him my
ultimatum. Because he knows the trouble he’d have

- boy—that you can bid me defiance and do something

even Rolfe himself would not dare do? If you have
any such notion, you’re crazy. You've been carrying
on with a pretty high hand since you landed i in Smoke-
town. You interfered with my private business here.
Before that you defied my wharf-tender and assaulted
him. I understand that you pushed my son into the
water.

4iP.--TOR’ WEEKLY,

remain dnd finish the meal quietly.
of making trouble, for it is our intention to depart

if he tried to build. Now do you think—you, a mere ,

At this point Brad Buckhart chuckled, his eyes upon
Brian Blackpool, whose face was flushed. Brian had
changed his clothes for dry ones of a like fashionable
cut.

“Your son, sir,’ said Steele, “saw fit to set his bully-
ing friend upon Merriwell, who was forced to defend
himself. When the bully
took up the quarrel, and he received a dose which must
We came here

99

got his medicine your son

have dampened his spirits somewhat.
peaceably, Mr. Blackpool, and we

“My starth!” spluttered Foss Dilltwitter,
the nerve to thay they didn’t twy to pick up a wow.
What do you think of that, Bwian? Good gwathuth,
I never thaw thuch cheek!”

“You were
with my private affairs and aroused a mob of loafers,
I presume,” said Lavan Blackpool. “I want you to
understand that you can’t do such things in this town.
I won't have it. I won’t have inciters of riot and
disturbance in Smoketown. I order you to leave at
once. Do you understand? Do you hear?”

“We hear and we understand,” said Dick. “We
have no intention of remaining in Smoketown any
longer than is necessary after we finish dining. We're
going to leave directly, and very glad we shall be.”

“You won’t stop to finish dining!’ thundered the
man. “You'll go now! Herbon, you have my orders.
I demand that you put these fellows out.”

The hotel proprietor came forward now, shaking
his head and speaking to the three boys.

 

“they have

““T guess you'll have to go,” he said. “When Mr.

Blackpool gives orders they has to be obeyed.”

“T’ve paid for our dinners in advance, Mr. Her-
bon,” said Dick. ‘You accepted our money. Under
those circumstances, I think you’d better permit us to
There’s no need

directly.”

“He’s right, Mr. Blackpool,” said the perplexed
hotel-keeper. “I took their money, and I’ve gut it in
my pocket. They’ve half-finished eating, and I can’t
put ‘em out very well. Hadn’t you better let ’em
stay? Hl see that they leave right away arter dinner
is. over.’

“My starth
came from Dillewitter:
up to Mr. Blackpool in thuch a way.”

Lavan Blackpdol turned ‘fiercely on the speaker.

“Who asked you in here?’ he rasped. “Here,
Brian, take your ladylike friend outside.. Go on, [

say! Take him away!”

/
/

very peaceable when you interfered

     
  
 
    
   
   
   
    
  
 
 
    
  
 
   

+ ee
SOG EL,

 

 

, I never thaw thuch cheeky rathcalth!”
“T never thaw anybody bwace

«&

      
       
       
   
     
   
   
   
   
       
       
         
       
       
       
Brad
Blackpool
as he touched Dilltwitter’s
dining-room. :

“As long as you've paid-in advance,”
pool, “I suppose you may finish eating, but don’t
linger a moment when you've got through. Take
yourselves out of this hotel and out of Smoketown,
and if I find you camped upon that Point, I'll send out

3uckhart chuckled again, causing young
glance of vengeful hatred

arm and led him from the

to give him a

said Black-

some men to pitch you and your camp into the océan.”’

“Just a moment, sir,” said Steele, as Blackpool

turned. “Before you send those men you'd better
notify them that we shall take precautions to defend
ourselves upon Pine Point. I have a young cannon

on the Wavelark, and, if necessary, we'll use it. I

shall load it expressly for the party
| you propose sending over to attack us.

Sir,”

Good day,

CHAPTER X.

STL DET ER.M-PN-E DPD,

 

. When the three boys returned to the hotel office they
} found gathered upon the street-corner outside and
swarming thick about the hotel steps a crowd of
rough-looking, rowdyish men and boys. In the crowd
~ there were a number of low-grade Italian laborers who
|. were jabbering among themselves and casting occa-
Ki - sional expectant glances toward the hotel door.

& Seth Herbon seemed greatly agitated.

“Hold on, boys,” he said hastily, “I dunno ‘bout
_your going out there. [’m afraid you'll git hurt 1f you
do. Now, I don’t want to git into no trouble with
Mr, Blackpool, and, at the same time, I don’t like to
see you fellers hurt. I dunno whethér Mr. Blackpool
knows anything ’bout it or not, but I guess Brian
was the one that collected that crowd. 1 seen him
talkin’ to them, and I’m afraid he’s set thém on to
jump ye the minute you step outdoors, “He’s gone
now. Guess he left so he wouldn’t be round when
they dorie ye up.” |

 

 

 

the crowd with a belligerent, fighting air.
“A bunch of cheap curs,” he said. “Give me two or
three cow-punchers and I’d stampede that pote in a
Pee ye, |
“Look!” hissed Steele, touching Dick’s arm and
pointing swiftly toy rard a little knot of Italians; “one
of those fellows—I saw him display a. knife!’
“By Juppy!” spluttered Herbon, “them dagos allus
carry knives. They don’t think nuthin’ of cuttin’

   

Dee ster

of lawless men -

Buckhart planted his hands on his hips, staring at.

- different proposition wheht he’? goes agairist outsiders.”

       
    
 
   
   
   
  
  
 
  
 
   
   
   
  
   
 
   
   
  
   
   
   
   
   
  
  
     
     
     
     
       
     
     
     
     
       
    
     

WEEKLY.
folks up, and when they can’t git nobody else to cut
they cut each other.”
“What had Dick?”
“T'll tell you what you'd better do,”
the hotel proprietor. “There’s a back door.

questioned Steele.
hurriedly said
Pll tet
Don’t let “em see ye.”

said
“and sffll. we’re not prepared to meet that

we better do,

ye out that way. Keep back.

“T hardly feel like sneaking out the back way,”
Merriwell,
crowd.”

Suddenly a hoarse-throated steam-whistle began to
bellow jarringly through the murky atmosphere of the
Tada there was a stir of excitement outside
of the hotel, <

“It’s the fire-gong!”
somewhere!’

“Fire! fire!’ was the cry on the street.

A moment later the crowd scampered away at full
run, hastening to the fire. The three strangers were
forgotten for the time: being.

Brad Buckhart 1 laughed.

“JT opine we won’t have to take a sneak by the back
door, pards,” he said. “Now’s our opportunity ‘to
saunter forth peacefully and make for the Wavelark.”

Five minutes later they were signaling from the
Eastern Pier, and directly the little tender swung off.
from, the Wavelark and came panting toward the
wharf, : | Ves

“We've had some right interesting experiences to-
day,” observed, the Texan, as sche settled himself in the
boat.

“And I don’t tiney they’re at an end yet,” said
Casper Steele, “What do you think about it, Dick?
Had we better stick to. our plan to camp on Pine
Point?”

“You bet your boots!” exploded Buckhart, without
waiting for Merriwell to reply.

“Qh, yes,” nodded Dick. “I don’t feel like permite —
ting Lavan Blackpool to frighten me away from there.
I have a fancy that the man is a great bluffer. He’ 5
always succeeded in bluffing every one, and he still be-
lieves he'll be able to do the same with us. Although
he may hold the simple people of Smoketown’ in awe
of him, he must realize that he’s going upwagainst a

place.

              

cried Herbon. ‘‘There’s a fire

“Tf he doesn't realize it now, it’s up to us to make 4
him realize it,” said the Texan. ;

As hey were approaching the yacht tney drew near —
a small scow loaded with lumber. Two men were on
the scow.’ Dick Merriwell ae the bentiet over
with an interested eye.

“Shut down your motor, Harris,’

  

he pasa

aa, Ee Neds? os Cle en
   
 

 

‘When this was done Dick called to the men and
asked them who owned the lumber. One of them an-
swered that he was the owner. Immediately Dick
proposed to buy a part of the scow-load and asked
that a price be set upon it.

They swung up beside the scow, and, after
dickering, a certain portion of the load was purchased.
With the aid of the tender, the sco& was swung closer
to the Wavelark, and the sailors, with the men upon
the scow, transferred the putchased lumber to the
yacht. It was fresh-cut, boards, planks, and small tim-
bers. : |

“Just the stuff we needed,”’ smiled Dick, when he
had paid for it and the scow was drifting off with the
tide. “I was wondering where we'd get a supply.
This was a lucky strike.”

The Wavelark weighed anchor and pointed her nose
toward open water. As she was cutting her way out
of the harbor Dick and his friends stood watching
the receding shore-front of Smoketown. They saw a
number of men appear on the wharf. There were
‘signs of disappointment displayed by these men.

some

”

“You’re a whole lot too late,
with a. grin.

The Wavelark lay her course directly toward Calm
Cove sheltered by the hooking projection of Pine
Point. Dropping anchor there, the work of binding
the lumber and towing it ashore with the tender was
taken up. By the time this was done and the lumber
had been piled on the camp site chosen by Dick, the
afternoon had slipped away and the sun was sinking
redly behind the far western hills.

The boys supped upon the-Wavelark. Afterward,
sitting on deck, they watched the afterglow of the
sunset fade and die. The golden lights turned to red,
which were reflected like blood upon the quiet waters
of the little cove. The distant woods grew faint with
bluish shadows. The black cloud above Smoketown
was finally swallowed by the gloom of night.

Dick could not sleep well that night. His mind was
far too-active to permit him to woo slumber success-
fully. After some hours of vain effort, he rose and
sought the deck.) , | .

The night was still hd Thoise. The smell of the
great pine woods mingled with the odor of the sea.
The surf murmured upon the outer shore of Pine
Point.

Dick leaned ‘upon the rail, looking away into the
landward gloom. From out of that distance, from out
_of the somber shadow of the forest, came the faint.
music of a flute. Entranced and spellbound, the boy

muttered Buckhart,

TIP. LOP : WHER.

“Home,

The tune was

held his breath and listened.
Sweet Home.”

Yonder in those woods'a broken-hearted man was
breathing forth that air like a prayer to the departed
soul he had loved and lost. Yonder in Smoketown,
powerful, arrogant, and untouched by remorse, dwelt
Lavan Blackpool. Far in the forest was the hidden
grave of the flower Blackpool had plucked and crushed.

CHAPTER XI.

BY HIS ENEMYS HAND.

The following morning Casper Steele carefully
loaded the small cannon on the Wavelark and kept it
trained to cover Pine Point while the sailors assisted
Merriwell and Buckhart in the work of clearing up
the camp site, laying the tent floors, and making ready
to pitch the tents.

One of the sailors, known to be a “safe man,” hay-
ing had experience as a gunner in the navy during
the Spanish War, was left upon the Wavelark in
charge of the cannon. It was this man’s instructions
to take particular care not to injure anyone of his
own party in case the men came out from Smoketown
to attack them and drive them away. Even though
Steele declared there was something besides powder in
the cannon, neither he nor his friends was anxious to
shed human blood in self-defense unless absolutely
forced to do so. Yet they felt they were well within
their rights in pitching the camp upon Pine Point, and

‘they proposed to defend their rights to the last ex-

tremity.

The forenoon passed without special incident. Dick
and Brad, with their coats off and their sleeves rolled
up, worked as steadily and earnestly as any of the
men. Even Steele went into it with hammer and saw
and enjoyed it. By midday the camp site had been
cleared, the path to the spring trimmed up, all loose
underbrush and deadwood piled in a heap for burning
when the wind came in from the north, so there ‘would

be no danger of setting the forest afire, the tent floors

laid and the frames pitched:

Next thing in order would be to put up the tents,
which had been brought upon the Wavelark.

The three lads held a council and decided it would
not be well to pitch those tents until more of the party
arrived. If they were put up, it would seem neces-
sary for the boys, or one or two sailors, to remain
on shore as guard over them. When the expected
boys arrived and the party became strong enough, all

a plea

 

   

bis =

 

 

 

 

       
      
    
    

 

 

 

  
       
      
     
       
       
   
   
 

    
    
i ne i ne

would look after
shore.

the tents and defend their rights on

ditinntn niin

Merriwell had ex-
to appear, but the

All through the forenoon Dick
pectantly watched for Crazy Cliff
_ hermit did not.show up.

. A small fire was built bn shore, coffee was cooked,
and the midday meal was eaten.

Be Shortly afterward Merriwell took a fancy to wan-
| der along the outer shore which
Beyond

tagged, and precipitous.

stretched away to
the northeast. the Point the shore grew rocky,
The huge waves thundered
and smashed against the rocks and dashed themselves
into foam at the base of steep cliffs. Against one of
these cliffs they raged and broke with a sound like
booming thunder. This precipitous. steep that shat-
tered the thundering sea was higher than any of its
Dick named it Thunder Bluff. :

: To the top of Thunder Bluff he finally climbed, and,
___ lying stretched upon his: stomach,

over the verge of the

neighbors.

gazed downward
precipice. At times, as some
} great booming billow burst against that sea-worn wall
} __ of stone, the very ground seemed to quiver.
| ¢ The boy exulted in the mad attack of the sea and the
| stern resistance of the land. He laughed and shouted
and sang:
at Beneath him a huge bird, with widespread wings,
circled and came in soaringly, disappearing against the
face of the cliff.
“An eagle!”
down there!”

cried Dick. ‘There must be a nest
Immediately he was seized by a great desire to visit
and inspect the eagle’s nest. After a time he decided
_ that there was but one way to do this. The person
' | who reached that nest must be lowered or lower him-
> self by means of a rope down the face of that bluff,

rope from the. yacht, flung it in a coil over his shoul-
der, and once more set off alone in the direction of
Thunder Bluff.

 

Dick when he returned for the rope.

Again reaching the crest of the cliff, the boy located
the spot where the eagle had vanished against the face
of the perpendicular stone, knotted one end of the rope
about the butt of a small stout tree, and dropped the
other end, uncoiling and dangling, toward the foam-
ing, seething water far below.

 

ranged his coat beneath the rope at the edge of the

sharp stones. Finally he boldly swung over, twisted
the rope round one leg with a deft flirt, brought it

j

sae LOE

An hour later Merriwell procured a long, strong a ducking; now you’# take one, my fine fellow.”
far out over the cliff.

Buckhart and Steele, exploring inland, had not seen

Next he carefully ar-

cliff, so that it might not be chafed and cut by the’

         
   
  
  
    
  
  
   
    
   
   
     
  
     
   
  
  
   
   
  
  
  
 
  
    
 
    
 
   
  
   
  
  
   
   
 
   
 
   

WEEKLY. 25

across the instep of his foot and pressed the other foot
lightly upon it. In this manner he could hold him-
self suspended with ease at any point whatever.

No sailor was ever more skilful than young Mer-
riwell upon a dangling rope. With perfect ease he
lowered himself down the face of the cliff, reaching
at last a narrow ledge upon which he was able, with
some difficulty, to stand.

And there, hidden away in a recess of the rocks,
where it was protected from winds and water, was the
eagles’ nest with the affrighted young birds in it.

The mother bird was absent at the time, but it
seemed that she was not far away and her ears were
reached by the alarmed cries of the eaglets.

A sudden wild scream startled the lad upon the
narrow ledge. A huge object had swooped at him.

It was the mother of the nestlings. Her eyes glared
with fury ‘and her talons seemed to clutch at Dick like
the claws of a pantheress.

Giving the rope a twist about his body and holding
to it with one hand, Dick struck at the eagle and beat
her off. ‘ |

Her mate came whistling through the air and shot
at Dick’s head.

A blow from his clenched fist sent the bird tumbling
half-way to the seething water below.

Then he heard another cry—a-human ery. He
looked upward. Far above him, at the edge of the
cliff, a face could be seen and a pair of triumphant
eyes were fastened upon him. It was Brian Blackpool,
who, spying about Pine Point, had tracked.Dick to
Thunder Bluff.

“Got you—got you foul!” shouted Blackpool, as he
held aloft a keen-bladed clasp-knife which he had
opened. “I’m going to cut the rope! You gave me

 

In his malicious exultation*young Blackpool leaned -
A bit of ground crumbled be-
neath him. Stones: and earth came rattling and clat-
tering down around Dick Merriwell.

With a yell of horror, Blackpool made a desperate
effort to keep from slipping over the edge. He half-
turned, clutching at the bank with his fingers. st

Fruitless effort. The brush and erate gave beneath |
his weight.

Over he went! te

With his left hand Blackpool cdnaneu to seize the © .
rope, to which he clung for dear life, but his grip was —
not stifficient to hold him where he was, and down
that rope he slid, fie hemp tearing and gira. es
palm. freeing yD . itil aes

      
       
       
       
    
    
 
  
  
   
  
  
  
  
    
   
  
     
  
   
 
  
   
    
     
 

26

 

Just at the very moment when he was benumbed and
_‘ ready to let go Merriwell grasped and held him.
The eagles were circling and screaming in the air,

but neither of those white-faced lads gave the birds the

i slightest attention. Fortunately neither of the eagles
) made a direct attack, although they repeatedly swept
||. close to the boys. ;
Blackpool's teeth were. chattering and his face was

id ie i
te bloodless. He seemed trying to speak, but only in-
Hi articulate sounds issued from his lips.

Dick

ie bidding

held the fellow, swung him upon the ledge,

him plant his feet there. Even then, without

i further aid from Merriwell, Blackpool would have
i dropped to be beaten by the thundering waves below.
Such a thing meant certain death.

In some manner Merriwell wound the rope round
Brian Blackpool’ s body and knotted it beneath the fel
low’s arms.

ret

Steady now.

fast to it.
I’m going to climb up and try to lift

hold,” he commanded. “Hang
you.”

Thrusting his toe into a crevice of the rocks, Dick
managed to lift himself high enough above Blackpool
to get a good grip upon the taut rope.

Upward he went, hand over hand, with amazing
strength and skill. Once he was forced to pause and
rest with his leg twisted about the rope, and Brian
_ Blackpool’s ‘heart sank despairingly. But Dick had
not given up. His next effort carried him to the top
of the cliff, and, after a few moments, he slowly pulled

‘himsett over, disappear ing fromeview. .

3 “He'll leave ‘me here,” thought Blackpool.

haps he'll cut the rope. The tables are turned on me,

Tm done for,”’ x boat
Some moments slipped by and resolved themselves
»Every minute seemed hours to the tor-
The
angry eagles shrieked’ in his ears> The Taging sea
thundered and foamed beneath fay

_ into minutes.
i tured lad dangling there upon that narrow ledge,

_ Finally he felt the rope tighten beneath his arms, he
; felt himself lifted and his feet raised clear of the ledge.

‘He closed. his eyes and eee dangling our abe

in the air.

2 Te was a Sch 8 hard. task for I Dick Merrivll to ee

  

 

TIP TOP. WEEKLY.

Per:

DICK MERRIWELL’S DEBT;

Moments of Terror—Plain Talk—The True American—_ :

  

that fellow up the face of Thunder Bluff. A dozen
times Dick was forced to pause, haying flung a turn :
of the rope round the stuinip. of a: broken: tree. |

But at last
cliff.

broken tree and knelt to give his enemy a hand and i

Blackpool was lifted to the verge of the

At last Dick knotted the rope tightly round that

drag him up.
“Let me have your wrist
Don’t “let your

“Grip tight!’ he cried.

and you mine! hold slip! fi

Now!”

Having his feet braced in a crevice, Dick made a

grasp

great surge and dragged Brian Blackpool over the

verge to safety upon the top of the sea-cliff.

The waves roared angrily like baffled wild beasts.

od

For some minutes both lads lay panting upon the
Finally Blackpool lifted himself with an ef-
With a still greater

ground.

fort and stared at his. rescuer.

os

effort, he forced himself to speak.

” he faltered, “but
I swear—I swear before high Heaven—I did not mean
to cut that rope! I was simply trying to frighten You.
Tell me—tell me you believe I

“T owe—ty life—my life to you,

x

ie aed agian na eee as Beet

aaa we

ay

ae ea

I am no murderet.

did not mean to do it.”

ae:

“Whatever I may think of you,” answered Dick
Merriwell, “I cannot yet bring myself to think you

as bad as that.”

eee ee ee ae af

   

THE END,

 

 
   
 

The Next Number (589) Will Contain

 
   
     
 

OR,

   

Settling the Score With Smoketown.

      
 

 

 
   
    

Ts
Brad Bestrides a Bucker-—Agatha’s Peril—The Icy

     

Mr. McKay—Mr, McKay Moves Hastily—Brian’s

     

“Blue Streak’? —
—Cleaning Up Cat Alley—Baffled—The Secret of ©
the Tide. ae goth girs

   

A Strange Influence—The Invaders

        
TIP YOP:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"NEW “YORK, “July 20, 1907.

 

 

TERMS TO TIP TOP WEEKLY MAIL SUBSCRIBERS.
(Posiage Free.)
Single Copies or Back Numbers, 5c. Each.
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2 MEMOS ocd dvdeetetwewaste 85e. 2 copies One year..............
a SONU BS ida sks ka dese secu Suess $1.25 1 copy two years... : 0.5.02. . oD

Phe OH pa

a

a% How to Send Money—By post-office or express money order,
a> registered letter, bank check or draft, at our risk. At your own risk if sent
by currency, coin, or postage stamps in ordinary letter.

Receipts—Receipt of your remittance is acknowledged by proper
change of number on your label. If not correct you have not been properly
credited, and should let us know at once.

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 inline

ile
Se ass:
:

 

 

 

 

Dick Roberts, New York.

Edward C. Quinn, Canada.

George R. Hodgkinson, Ohio. €
Sterling Stackhouse, Canada.

Elmer Wicha, Ill.

Jno. H. Greene, Arkansas.

John W. Schaefer, Wash. :
Harold O. Hoffard, British Columbia.

‘Otis Fitch, Iowa.

A. Payne, )
A. Cobban, §
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. ce

 
   
 

Canada.

 

cannot undertake to secure their publication under six weeks. Those
who contribute to this department must not expect to see them before
that time.

hex 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 less
than four lines taken. Remit by stamps, check or money order to the
publishers,

 

(A letter from Ohio.)

This is my second letter to you as a representative of Hiram
Collega “Tip Top” Club, and I hope to see this one in print. We
think that we are entitled to a place on your Roll of Honor, as
about sixty per cent. of our members have read your model pub-
lication —* ‘Tip Top” —since No. 1, and all are unanimous in our
praise for dear old “Tip Top,” the king of weeklies. e have
enlarged our club to the extent of twelve new members since my
other letter, and we are all still “on the jump” to get more. As

* boys and girls and strive to have your name at the head of the list, _

Owing to the number at Gained lettets received, the ‘editor of Tip T op “

the letters shows that the readers are more than satisfied.

 

     
  
  
    
  
 
 
   
      
    
     
   
  
  
    
  
  

WEEKLY.

we now have twenty-six members, it will be impossible to sign
all, so will be content with having our officers represent us.
Always remember we are loyal and true to Dick, Frank, Burt
L., and Street & Smith. We remain, sincerely yours.
Tue Hiram “Trp Tor” Crus.
Gero. R. Hopexrnson, President,
Gasper Hiatt, Physical Director,
Wo. Lutser, Librarian,
ERNEST Roperts, Treasurer,
C. B. Ropsins, Sergeant at Arms.

We did answer your last letter and you will find the name
of your president in the Honor Roll list. We thank you again,
for your kind appreciation.

Being an ardent reader of “Tip Top,’ I think it about time
I express an opinion of the finest boys’ paper ever published. I
started reading this weekly about three years ago. My parents
did not favor it much, but I finally got them to read one of them,
and they are now among the admirers of this weekly.

/I can hardly wait for Friday morning to get the latest number.
I am now twenty years of age, but have not yet tired of it.
Well, as this is getting pretty long, I will ring off; with three

cheers for Burt L. and Street & Smith. Yours truly,
Brooklyn, N. Y. EFS

This is a clean-cut incisive letter, such as pleases us beyond ex-
pression. We can easily picture the kind of a young man who
bears this deep-seated affection for the high principles of “Tip
Top.” And we return his good wishes.

boys,

  
  
  
   

 

 

(A letter from Massachusetts.)

I have not seen any letter from my town, so I am writing this.
Dick is my favorite, as I have read nearly all about him. I also
like Brad, Earl Gardner, Dale Sparkfair, Hi Bemis, and Joe
Crowfoot. I have read about 200 “Tip Tops,” and think they are
the best stories out. I have induced three boys in my town to.
read them, and they think they are great. I will say that I am y
something of a bookworm, but, of all the authors I like, Burt L.
is by far the best. I think the stories of Dick at Yale are just
fine. I hope Dick gets June and Brad gets Mabel Ditson. With
three cheers for Burt L. and Street & Smith, and hoping to see
this in print, I remain, a faithful “Tip Topper.”

R. A. Coney.

       
     

WANA MARE BIO

      
     
       
    

BER CaN VESTA

            
 

Thank you.

  

 

 

    

ROE ee ss

as ith

(A letter from Old Kentucky.)

I am pleased to find a Merriwell back at Yale.
what boy or girl wouldn’t read those stories?

My mother and father object a little to my sreading, but
brother has something to say, so I get to read them. I am a’
Kentucky girl. I glory in bravery and plucky boys and girls. I
have light curly hair, blue eyes, am eighteen years of age, and
am five feet high. My name is Nellie Ethel Selbee.

I think Frank Merriwell is a first-class young American. Our
boys call me Elsie Bellwood, why I can’t see or tell. Elsie is a
little coward, and I can ride just as good as John Swiftwing’s
girl, the half-breed. I can shoot a revolver as good as anold-time
veteran; play ball, too.

Print "what you wish _of this chattering letter.

Three cheers for Burt L. Standish again, all together. |

Yours truly, ’ Neue E. SELBEE.

Always glad to hear from that dear old commonwealth, fa-
mous for its fine horses, fearless men, and beautiful girls.

f /
/ (A letter from Canada.)

The hiodigetion informed me that “Tip Top” did not come
to. Toronto last week, but I hope that he was mistaken, as a great
many chaps would be disappointed, indeed. I am sending to you
for mine, to make sure. © ‘ Lx

A while ago I was ashamed to read the “Tip Top” in a public
place, until I had torn off the cover.

But now that you have put it in a class by itself, as you have
also done to The Popular, one feels proud of it, and says so at
every opportunity.

The stories, are getting better all the time. It seems to me
that we do nét hear any “kicking” in the Applause columns, as
‘we used to when Dick was at Fardale, and the general tone of —

   

Dear Old Eli,

    
     
       
         
     
   
 
       
      
     
     
      

 

      
   
       
       
       
    
 

  
   
 
 

   

  
   

aie Canadian readers, have asked the : Canadiana character
28

be incorported into the stories. It would not be any easy thing
to please all the readers in Canada, with regard to him, as they
would wish to hear a lot about him. But [ am sure that Mr.
Standish is equal to the occasion, and I would also request him
to grant us that favor.

I always improve an opportunity to speak a good word for
the “Tip Top,” as I like to have a clear conscience. But I think
that we should go further than that:’we readers should make the
opportunities.

We all owe a good deal/to Mr. Standish for the interesting
and helpful thoughts he gives to us in the pages of “Tip Top.”
We have spent many pleasant hours, and often been encouraged
to make greater efforts to put more into, and-get more out of
life, by reading, and rereading our favorite weekly. And so I
join with the thousands who have written before, and send my
thanks to you and Mr. St andish for adding so much to the

“pleasure in life, and wish you success in attaining to the degree
of perfection to which you are striving to bring the “Tip Top,”
and The Popular also. Of course, Ivdo not expect you to publish
all this in the Applause column, but will be glad to see such parts
of it as you think worthy of a place. I am, in closing, a true+blue
“Tip Topper.” A. E. CLare.

We have taken pleasure in printing most of this long and in-
teresting letter from our Canadian cousin, and desire to extend
to him the right hand of fellowship, The. publishers of “Tip
Top” feel proud of the manly type of earnest friends and sup-
porters who not only so loyally stand back of them in their en-
terprise, but delight to do missionary work with the boys’ journal.
No. wonder “Tip Top” has always been a success with author,
editor, publishers, and readers, all working in harmony to¢at-
tain still greater ends.

(A letter from New York.)

As it is quite a while since I sent in a letter to the great and
mighty “Tip Top,” I thought I would once more write and try
to express my gratitude for such a publication. J was about
the first one in our ward to start reading the “Tip Top Weekly,”
and, after having quite a time endeavoring to get my friends ae
read them, I have at’ last succeeded. About the worst job | hac
was with my cousin. One time he and his father and mother
called at our house, and found me deeply interested in reading
“Dick Merriwell’s Regret,” and, as I continued to read and gaye
them little or \no attention, they at last inquired what’ I. was
reading. I told them it was a “Tip Top,” the finest boy’s maga-
zine published. They were “shocked.” My aunt, holding up her
hands in horror, inquired of my mother if she allowed her son
to read “Those horrid cheap weeklies,” and when my mother said
“Yes,” and said they were fine for boys” or any one to read, she
was shocked ‘again.

Well, then, I thought, here’s a chance to convert some one, so
I got after my cousin. For a long time he would not listen
to me, but one Sunday, as a.last attempt, I took over to his
house four or five of the latest ones, got him to read _thetn, and
now there is a general rush for the stationer’s every Friday, for
_ his father, his brother, and sister all read them, and think there
‘is nothing better.

[think Dick is about O. K., and I think he ought to get June.
Brad is all right, and he ought to get Mabel Ditson. I am glad

to see that you did not forget Dale Sparkfair altogether, and ,

was pleased to meet him in No. 576.
Give us some more of. Frank and Chet Athington: When is
“Young Merriwell” going to start to Fardale? I didn’t hear any-
thing about Young Joe Crowfoot’s funeral. When did he die, or
gens became of -him?

Well, I have ‘said pretty near éiiotaaly and will close, Hioging'

that when you slug this at the paper basket you will miss, and

bs bi ee. will pick it up and hand it to the editor,
Yours truly. Dick Roserts.
We think you have been a good friend to “Ty ip Top,” and we
. ie pleasure in printing your name in our Honor Roll. Young
Joe i is still pegging away at his books, and will be heard from
again in due time. As for Frank, Jr., let the kid have a chance
“di get his first teeth before you anticipate his arrival at Faz dale.
é. i atte, (A letter from Virginia.)
L have read the “Tip Top” I got from you all last eet it

fine.
al | ide — in ees Bicertwell Luck ri ae said was

of the numbers as soon as possible.

The other cent enclosed. is for the catalogue of ‘the

TIP. TOP. WEEKLY:

‘Sust filled with good things for boys.” I loaned my “Tip Top’
to one of my boy friends, and he says it’s fine. I think Mr. Burt
L. Standish is a wonderful man. I think he is doing his best
to give us boys some good reading-matter. And I thank your
firm for publishing the weeklies. You are trying to give ts
Americans all the splendid reading you can possibly give by such
authors as Burt L. Standish, Yours truly.
Wittie A. TINSMAN,

You have a feast of good reading coming to you, Willie, and
we hope “Tip Top” and the Medal stories may not only entertain,
but aid you in choosing the things that profit a boy most in the
long run.

° (A letter from California.)

I have read “Tip Top Weekly” for three years,
“dandy.”

At first I used to read them on the sly; my father got them
and was going to burn them.

In despair I asked him to read one. He did not want to at
first, but he did, and now he is as eager to get them as I am.

Pleasé send me a catalogue. W. GARDNER.

The same old story. Your father is a man after our
and we congratulate you on having so sensible and reasonable
‘a parent.

heart,

(A letter from Louisiana. )

Will you kindly tell me where we can get Harvard and Yale

Sincerely.

"Please let me know,
HeLen Gipps.

flags? with price.

Certainly. For about $1.10 you can have mailed a couple of
flags of any well-known college, suitable for decorating. Send
sto A. G. Spalding & Bros., New York.

(A letter from Pennsylvania.)
~ I will tell you what I think of “Tip Top.” I think it 1S the
best ptiblication I ever read, I, had a friend, who gets the “Tip.
Top,” ‘and she loaned them to me, and w hen I get throfigh with
them I give them:to my brothers. I got it first, and I have five
brothers and one sister who read it. I couldn't do without it.

1 will close, from.a true “Tip Topper.”
) Miss Mivprep STEPHENS.

We are glad you find our stories to your liking, and hope
your brothers profit by the example set by the Merriwells.

(A letter from Ohio.)

I think that the “Tip Top Weekly” is the best weekly that is
published in the world. Burt L. Standish certainly knows how ©
to write good stories. I have been reading ‘ ae
four years, and have never tired of reading about Frank sil.
Dick and the rest yet. I have read a number of the Medal
Library books also, and think they are fine, too. The reading —
of the Merriwell stories has helped me in more ways than. one.
Frank Merriwell is a model for any boy in my opinion, so please.
send me the catalogue soon as possible, as I want to get some
Yours truly.

CECIL Soon. {
Catalogue has been mailed,

'' (A letter from Virginia.)

I am a constant reader of “Tip Top.” This is my first letter
to the Applause, and I hope it will not be left out in the cold.
‘I have been reading “Tip Top” for nearly a year,’ and J think |
it is one of the best out, I tell nearly every Ba about it. f
like to read about Frank and Dick Merriwell. Bart AH. and
Brad. B. are all right chums. Hoping to see these lines in print.

Yours truly. Eppre DruMMoND,

Brayo! Kee ion, doing it, Eddie, and we will look upon you

as one of our mst Joyal friends. We have legions of them, most.

of whom never write, but we
constant growth of our already enormous circulation. —

(A letter from Georgia.) |

I ade been a reader of “Tip Top” for about two anda half

“yet and I think it is the Hare: ° _Weeklies. Before I started.

and it is a.

uf
at

feel their silent influence in the —

 

 
 

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to reading the “Tip Top” I was one of the worst cigarette
“fiends” that ever lived, | receon, but since | have been readin&
it I have not smoked a single cigarette, for 1 learned the folly
of smoking them, and I found out that it was ruining me, so |
just “sawed off” at once, I like all the good characters of the
“Tip Top” fine, but I think T like Rob Claxton the best, next to

Dick and Frank; I reckon the reason is that he is a Southerner
like myself, I have liked him from his first appearance jin the
“Tip Top,” even if he, was an ee of Dick’s, for I knew he
was going to find out his mistake and join the “Merriwellites.”’

This is my first letter to ie

in print.

“Tip Top,” and. I hope to see it

With “Hail Ho’! to the “Tip Top,” and Burt L., I am,
Their true friend. cs Hepsi}
You certainly have reason to congratulate yourself, my dear

boy, because “Tip Top”

day of your life,

way. It was the luckiest
if you but knew it, for two and a half years
more of excessive cigarette-smoking would have made you a
physical wreck. i ;

chanced your

 

[ have read your “Tip. Top Weekly” ever since it was pub-
lished. I first read one of those sample copies that were thrown
around and continued. I have followed Frank: Merriwell around
the world, and have
have read the Applause column, but don’t suppose that I would
ever have written to you had it not been for the introduction of
my namesake into a late number, Jack Spratt. IJ have carried
this name for 21 years, and have tried to take Merry for a model,
and have kept it cledn—the name I méan—so far. So if the
Jack Spratt at Yale don’t keep it spotless, I am going to have

a “holler” coming, I like all of.the older people in the “Tip
Top,” but think them beyond compare. Having started reading
this weekly when Frank was a schoolboy, I naturally would like
him much more than Dick. I count my converts to “Tip Top”
ranks by the score. I used to have an uncle who would see me
reading a “Tip Top” and say, “Where is he now, kid,-up a tree?”
Until one day I caught him coer one of my cast-off “Tip
Tops,” and asked him whére he was. So on through the years
people came to ridicule and wetit away convinced with a “Tip
Top” in their hand,

Well, I will cut out this tiresome chatter. Please accept my
sincere thanks for the many happy hours I have spent in com-
pany with “Tip Top.’ Yours till death.

(a la Jack Ready.)
Jack SPRATT,
St. Louis, Mo. J. B. Spratt.

-— We cannot add anything to this excellent letter, for which we
are under hearty obligations.

(A letter from Canada.)

Have never befote taken the opportunity of writing to the
Applause column of “Tip Top,” although I have read the maga-
zine for several years. JI have read g¢rom number one to the
present date, and most of them I havé read several times. In

fact, 1 am something of an authority on “Tip Top,” and it is
pretty hard to “stick” me on the back numbers. I have been

the means of getting about fifteen boys to read “Tip Top.” |
tell:them about the old stories of Frank and his “set,” and they
become interested. “Tip Top” is, indeed, the king of weeklies.
~ It is the only publication of that sort that I read, and I would
readily recommend it to any one.
~ who et them every week. This is a long letter for the first
time, and if it escapes the waste-basket you will have my eternal
gratitude. I can only say in closing, that I like all the characters
-in “Tip Top,” although Frank: and his crowd seem like older
friends. I hope to hear from Deris Templeton before long. She
is a star.
Thanking you in advance, I remain, ever a constant reader,
¢ STERLING STOCKHOUSE,

 

We are only too glad to place the name of*such an esteemed
friend upon “Top Top’s” Honor Roll, and trust your pleasure
in reading the magazine of clean sport and clean liying may .con-
tinue for many years to come.

Fe short time ago I wrote a letter which was placed in the
Applause, but something happened a week ago which is a good
_ testimonial for “Tip Top,” and, thinking you ‘might be peueteayed.
tegen I would tell you about it,

read of him as a king on some island, and ,

know of several ministers |

Y. harder for “Tip T

 

 

WEEKLY. 29

house selling such books as “Titus”
* He said the proceeds were for

A minister
and Sheldon’s
missions.

came to my
“In His’ Steps.

While cracking up his wares, he sis ka Sight of “Tip Top”
on my kitchen-table and made the remark, “And this will prove
much better reading for you than that, sister.’ @ immediately
bristled up and said, “Well, sir, 1 would like you to understand
that that story is above reproach.” :

He saw the way J felt, and said, “Yes, my son has read that
for five years, and I can vouch for the morals in it.”

I thought for “Tip Top,”

OLD-TIMER.

that quite a little puff
Yours truly.
consider that this*is as good an indorsement of “Tip

We

Top” as we time, and it was very kind

of our correspondent to take the trouble to relate it.

have read in a long

read your king of weeklies, “Tip Top,” for over nine
and think there is no weekly like it. The outside ap-
pearance of “Tip Top” is greatly improved, I think “Dick Mer-
riwell’s Regret” was the best one I ever read. I have induced
nine others to read “Tip Top,” six of which buy them for them-
selves. Last week our news-dealer tock more “Tip Tops” than
he did before. He must have noticed that they went like hot
cakes before. The greatness of some of our great prose writers
was not known till “after they were dead; and I think Burt L.
Standish will be more famous after he is dead than he is now;
but I hope that he won’t die just on that account.

A boy from this town told you in a letter that the news-dealer
charged fifty cents for the Medal Libraries. Those were bound

I have
month S,

books. W ell, I will close with three cheers for Burt L. Standish
and success to Street & Smith. I remain a loyal reader of “Tip
Top. ;

Detroit, Mich.

P. S—I wrote a letter to a boy ih
Alaska. I wish they would answer.

Please send us your name, my dear boy. We would like to
put it with those faithful ones who have done so much to further
the sales of “Tip Top.”

Australia and one in

—_-———— ‘

‘I am a monthly subscriber for your famous magazine, “Tip.
Top. Weekly,” and they are great,

At. first my mother would not let me read “Tip Top,” until
I made her read one herself, and then she gave me money to
subscribe, telling me to follow the example of Dick and I would —
be all right.

Not wishing to take up too much of your valuable space with
this, I will close, with three cheers for Frank, Dick, -and Burt L.
Standish. L. LackMAN.

New York. ‘

It is pleasant to discover how many sensible mothers there |
are after all. We do not say this ‘becatise this lady decided in

favor of “Tip Top,” but that she should take enough genuine. | ~

interest in her’ son’s reading to investigate and judge for her-
self. We have no fear of the result when this occurs; in fact,
we never yet heard of a case where a parent, who investigated:
“Tip Top,” rendered judgment against it. They invariably be-

come readers themselves and urge their boys to os in the at

ate of the Metriwells.

(A letter from °Canada.)

I have wanted to write for ever so long to “Tip Top. ee Here
ar6 a couple reasons why:
To win a place on the Honor Roll.
To see if my letter will he printed.
i haye read about four hundred and fifty-five numbers of your
interesting publication. Though but a boy of ten short years, 1
come up tot 1e mark of teading. I have got eleven boys around
here to read “Tip Top.”
My father forbadé my reading it, but after ti ois a- few
ee he not only reads them himself, but lets us read them.

 

favorites are, Frank, Bart, Danny, Bink, Harry, Chester,
Madoc With three cheers for Burt L., Street & Smith, pe
Frank. I remain a loyal “tp Topper" ‘Epwarp $2. Quinn.
\ Ottawa, nada.

“We ‘have given you your wish, and bape’ you will work even.
op” in the future,

 

  

 

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AND

 

ANSWERS.

EDITED BY —

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—

 

 

 

(A letter from Nebraska.)

Pror. FourMEN: My age is 17 years; chest, 34 inches; weight,
148 pounds; waist, 32 inches; height, 5 feet 6 inches; biceps, 15%
inches ; thigh, 21 inches; neck, 1414 inches; calf, 15 inches. I play
right half on a prominent football-team. Made on an average
six yards each down the whole season. I pitch in baseball, and
play second-center in basket-ball. Pole vault in 9 feet 4 inches;
‘run 100 yards in 113-5, seconds. Do you think I can be-
come a good athlete in time? FoorsALL SHARK.

You are beginhing well to reach the aim of your desires re-
specting future athletic work.

Pror. FourMen: Being a reader of “Tip Top,” I take the

liberty of writing to you, and asking you what you think of my

measurements. Age, 12 years; weight, 97 pounds; height, 5

feet; chest, normal, 30 inches, expanded, 3214 inches; waist, 25

inches; wrist, 534 inches; forearm, 8 inches; biceps, 1014 inches;

thigh, 1714 inches; calves, f inches; neck, 1134 inches; ankle,

7l4 inches. How can I develop speed in pitching? Am _short-

winded. How can I improve? a G,
St. Paul, Minn.

Try long-distance runs before ‘breakfast. Practise-games_ will
give you a chance to find out whether you can develop the
requisite speed to enable you to pitch the way you would like
to be able to. .

(A letter from Canada)

Pror. Fourmen: I am a young reader of “Tip Top,” and
would like to be an athlete. I am 11 years old, weight 83 pounds.
‘I can run about three miles without getting winded. In a
standing jump I can jump 6 feet. High jump, 4 feet. My meas-
urements are: Height, 4 feet 11 inches; chest, normal, 29, ex-
panded, 32. NorMAN EAMES.

Procure a set of dumb-bells and Indian clubs. Use them
regularly, morning and evening. Take a sponge-bath afterward.
- Do not ‘neglect deep-breathing exercise. .

‘

(A letter from ‘the Canal Zone) Panama.)

Pror. Fourmen: My age is 11 years; height, 4 feet 10 inches; .

weight, 67 pounds; chest, normal, 12 inches; expanded, 13%
inches; neck, 11 inches; right forearm, 7% inches; left forearm,
714 inches; right calf, 1014 inches; left calf,1034 inches; waist,
24 inches; thigh, 16 inches; wrist, 514 inches; biceps, normal, 7
inches; expanded, 8% inches.- I am round-shouldered and am
_ wery weak. How could I become strong to be an athlete?

i ; - H. Morsett MircHet..

Light exercises in the morning with dumb-bells and Indian
clubs will build you up without drawing too much on your pres-
ent low state of vitality. The shoulder and arm movements of the
U. S. A. exercises will give you what you need for round shoul-

ders. Any of the soldiers near you will lend you a volume of —

U. S. A. tactics so that you can learn how the exercise is per-

' a boy 5 feet in height?

ne asm

PROF. FOURMEN \ |

 

 

 

 

: (A letter from Minnesota.)

Pror. FourMEN: I am fourteen years old and am 5 feet 4
inches high; weight, 123 pounds; chest, normal, 30 inches; ex-
panded, 32 inches; waist, 32 inches; thigh, 18 inches; calf, 13
inches; wrist, 8 inches; ankle, 8 inches. I would like to be a
pitcher, but my arm gets sore if I throw swiftly for some time.
What can I do to stop this? Should I play in another part of
the field, and, if I*should, which part? I can run fast but my
wind don’t last. We have a club here the members of which
pay five cents every week, and we buy “Tip Top” with this
money. We also buy back numbers of the Medal Library. There
are 6 members in the club, but it is growing. H. C. M:

\Give your arm a rest for a few days. If you find that it has
not sufficient staying-power for pitching try playing on first or
third base. |

(A letter from Massachusetts.) :

Pror. FourMEN: Having read the “Tip Top” for two years,
I would like to ask you a few questions. Age, 15 years; height,
5 feet; weight, 102 pounds; neck, 13 inches; chest, normal, 27%
inches; expanded, 31 inches; biceps, 9 inches; expanded, 10
inches; forearm, 9 inches; waist, 2614 inches; thigh, 17 inches;
calves, 12 inches. Will you tell me the correct measurements for
Les_iE TorPEY.

A person § feet in height should have the following measure-
ments to be properly proportioned: Weight, 103 pounds; neck,
11 inches; waist, 29 inches; chest, 32 inches; biceps, 11 inches;
forearm, 8 inches; thighs, 15 inches; calves, 11 inches.

(A letter from Canada.)

Pror. FourMen: I am an enthusiastic reader of the king of
weeklies, “Tip Top.” I am 14 years old; height, 5 feet 1/4 inches;
weight, 99 pounds; chest, 30 inches; expanded, 31 inches;
waist, 31 inches; neck, 12 inches; ankie, 7/4 inches; wrist, 6%
inches. I drink both. tea and coffee. I have started to take a
run of about one mile before breakfast every morning. How
can I grow and properly develop my muscles? How can I be
cured of turning my toes in? Cuas. H. EAMgEs.

‘ Take a course of general all-round gymnastic work. The leg
movement of the United States army exercises will help your |
present mode of walking. /

v7

(A letter from Louisiana.)
Pror. FourMEN: Having read all the numbers of the “Tip

Top,” I think it is about time to ask some questions. Age, 14 J

years; weight, 109. pounds; height, 5 feet 5 inches; waist, 28
inches; chest, normal, 31 inches; chest, expanded, 34 inches;
neck, 13%4 inches; biceps, 10 inches; wrist, 8 inches; thigh, 20
inches; calves, 15 inches. My records aresas follows: 1 mile, 6
minutes; 5 miles, 40 minutes; running high jump, 4 feet 5
inches. I have good wind but no speed. How shall I increase
my speed? Do you think I could become an athlete?
Dan COFFELL.

Practise running short distances and your speed will gradually by

increase. Your records are very good for a boy of your age.

{

 

 
 

 

Tig

5 years; chest, expanded, 37%
biceps, expanded, 11 inches;
10 inchés;"waist, 30 inches;
neck, 14 inches.
STAMPEDE STOPER.

Pror. Fourmen: My age is 13!
inches; chest, normal, 35% inches;
biceps, normal, 10 inches; forearm,
weight,; 112 pounds; calf, 1314-inckes3

New ‘York City.

Join a VY. Ms Cr A

and exercise regularly,

Pror. FouRMEN: Being a reader of “Tip Top,’ I take the
liberty of ating you a few questions and giving my measure-
ments. Height, 5 feet -1 inch; weight, 99 pounds; age, 14 -years;
chest, normal, 32 inches; expanded, 35 inches; waist, 264 inches
neck, 1214 inches; calves, 12 inches; biceps, 9 inches,. My records
are: Running broad jump, 11 feet;.standing broad jump, 6 feet 5
inches; high jump, 3 feet. 9 inches; 100 yards, 13% seconds. How
ean [ train for 440 yards, in relay? Ihave swellings on both
sides of chest. W.. JAMEs.

Philadelphia, Pa,

Relay running requires long and arduous practise.. “Do con-
siderable cross-country running to begin with. Consult a physi-
cian for your chest-trouble.

(A letter from Texas.)

Pror. FourMen: As I .haye read “Tip Top” for a good while
I take the liberty to ask a few questions. Below are my measure-
ments. Age, 17 years; weight, 140 pounds; neck, 15 inches;
chest, normal, 36 inches; expanded, 39 inches ;. waist, 31 inches;
thighs, right, 20 inches ; ‘left, 19 inches; calves, right, 16 inches;
left, 1514 inches; biceps, flexed, 15 inches. What will make
muscle on the arms? What will make my chest larger? I do
not use tobacco in any form. N. T. WALKER.

Indian-club exercise will increase your biceps.
A Whitely exerciser is excellent for your chest.
(A letter from Alabama.)
Pror. FourMEN: Having read “Tip Top”
T take the liberty to ask you a few questions.
old; weight, 75 pounds; neck, 12% inches;
inches calves, 12 inches; chest, normal,
28% inches. How can I become strong?
How: can this be preyented?

for quite a while,
I am 12% years

height, 4 feet

27 inches; leet 95

I catch cold very easy.

R0BERT SANFORD.

Get in the habit of exercising with dumb-bells in the morning,
and taking a sponge-bath afterward, and the skin will become

_ 0 hard that you will no longer be susceptible to colds,

   
   

“calf, 124 inches.
- then do the following exercises:
back, lifting legs upward until perpendicular,

 

 

(A letter from California.)

Pror. FourMEN: My measurements are as follows: Age, 14
years; height, 4 feet 1034 inches; w eight, 97 pounds; neck, 13%
inches; waist, 24 inches; chest, normal, 33 inches; expanded, 37
inches; biceps, 12 inches; forearm, 914 inches; thigh, V2 inches ;
I get up in the morning at about § o'clock, and
Indoor exercises, Lie on my

TOP WEEKLY.

with knees ,stiff.,

Then I dip 15 times. Then I fall forward on hands, turn over

on back, and get up in 144 seconds. J use Indian clubs, and dumb-
bells, Another exereise is touching knees and rising on my feet
10 times. I sit on my heels and rise 25 times.

: Merie R.

Go on with your exercises and you

McRey NOLDSs.
You have the right idea,
will gain considerable muscular development.

Pror. Fourmen: As I haye been reading the “Tip Top
Weekly” for the last five years, I take the liberty of asking you
a few questions. My measurements are: Age, 1514 years; weight,
140° pounds; neck, 1334 chest, npraiat, 34 inches; ex-
panded, 3534 inches; biceps, 12 inches; forearm, 10 inches; waist,
25% inches; thigh, 2014 inches; calves, 144 inches, and height, 5

inches;

feet 6 inches. After I throw an out curve my.arm pains and
hurts. Is skating bad? Do you recommend the Spalding books.
on athletic training? L. F C

Oakland, Cal.

You are overdoing your pitching. Give your arm a rest for
a while, Skating is excellent exercise. All the Spalding hand-
books are written by authorities and will give you many valuable
hints on athletic subjects,

 

Pror. Fourmen: Being an ardent “Tip Top” admirer,
having read it for so long a time, I take the liberty of asking
you a few questions, which I hope you will answer,

1014 inches; con-
neck, 14 inches; " chest

14 inches; thigh, 19 inches; biceps, normal,
tracted, Ir inches; waist, 25 inches;
normal, 36% inches; expanded, 4034 inches. I am a long- distance
runner, I engage in all sports. Is 1034 minutes a good record
for a two-mile indoor run? Am I built for a cross-country run-
ner? J am known as the best speed and endurance cyclist around
our. way. They call me a wrestling terror.
training, but owing to studies and business at home I am, Pi ae
to go to bed early. KR. T.
Philadelphia, Pa.

If you do not get sufficient sleep your training will be handi-
capped. Otherwise you seem to be on the right road to health
and athletic honors.

Pror, Fourmen: I now take the liberty of asking a few ques-
tions. My measurements are as follows: Age, 14 years; weight,
116 pounds; height, 5 feet 4 inches; waist, 31 inches; thigh, 17
inches; calves, 12 inches; neck, 1234 inches chest, 30 inches nor-
mal, and 32% inches expanded; Hiren: 10 inches; wrists, 7 inches.

Can you name any exercise to strengthen the pit. of the stom-
ach and the wr at EADER.

Philadelphia, Pa.

Get a wrist-machine to strengthen the muscles of your fore-
arm. A, G. Spalding & Co, can supply you with one, Bending
exercise will develop the waist and stomach muscles.

 

games, will be declared the winners.

N. J., and the’ ‘‘Athletes”

) eP- Is this not worth working for, boys?

be properly made cut.

 

 

One compen, tor
i

‘Tip Top Baseball Tournament Is Now Open.

The two teams which, at the end of the season, have th highest average—~the members of.
which play the greatest number of games, score the most runs and have lost the least number of
Of the two. winning teams, the one having’ the higher
average will be déclared the Tip Top Championship Team of the All-American

‘Baseball Tournament for 1907, and will receive a handsome pennant bearing an, Jb
appropriate device. The two successful clubs in 1906 were the Unions” of Hawthorne,
of Circleville, O, Each winning team will receive a full 7
| equipment for nine members, consisting of trousers, shirt, stockings, shoes ay UL!

DON’T FAIL TO SEND IN YOUR COUPON aT ONCE, ee

No notice taken of any score not entered on a coupon, ig must eZ
each game, .

-——— ~-— ——— = n ——,

Wi
4 A$

    
 

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ISSUED EVERY FRIDAY

ne nr RE comer

THE TIP TOP WEEKLY

en etait

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

he 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,

Tip

Top’s stories are going to astonish you. Do not fail to buy this weekly.
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

 

 

HERE ARE THE

557—Dick Merriwell’s Running; or, The Meet at ae
chanics’ Hall.
558—Dick Merriwell’s Joke; or, Fun w ith the Tackping
Frenchman.
559—Dick Merriwell’s Seven; or, The Scrub That Made
_ the Regulars “Go Some.”
560—Dick Merriwell’s Partner ;
Texas.
561—Dick Merriwell in the ‘Tete: or, Rushing the Regu-
lars at Water Polo.
s62—Frank Merriwell’s Captive; or, The Folly of Ches-
ter Arlington. .
563—Frank Merriwell’s Trailing; or, The Flight of a
Fool.
564—Frank Merriwell’s Talisman; or, The Charm of
Cocheta. _
565—Frank Merriwell’s
Would Be Bad.
566—Frank Merriwell’s Intrusion; or, Warner, the Man.
Who Won. -
867—Frank Merriwell’s Bluff; or, The Lost Sefiorita of
Be Sonora.
568—Dick Merriwell’s Regret ; or, The Friend He Never
Knew. -
569—Dick Merriwell’s Sifent Work; or, ‘A Helping
Hand for a Foe.
570—Dick Merriwell’s Arm; or, The Trick that Fooled
3 the Tricksters.
571—Dick Merriwell’s Skill; or, The Prince of the Pistol.
Reeves Magnetism; or, The Curing of a

or, The Boy from

Horse; or, The Boy Who

}
4

If you want any kay pnbers of this publication and cannot procure them from your news- 4
‘dealer, they can be obtained from this office direct.

STREET & SMITH, Publishers, 79 Seventh Avenue, NEW YORK cry. |

 

LATEST TITLES:

573—Dick Merriwell’s System; or, The Way to Win.

574—Dick Merriwell’s Salvation; or, The Traitor on the
Team.

575—Dick Merriwell’s Twirling ; or, Tracing the Traitor.

576—Dick Merriwell’s Party; or, Springtime’s Youthful

’ Fancy.

577—Dick Merriwell’s Backers; or, The Man Behind the
Bat.

578—Dick Merriwell’s Coach; or, Pride and Prejudice. |

579—Dick Merriwell’s Bingle; or, A Hit in Time.

580—Dick Merriwell’s Hurdling; or, The Star and the
Satellites.

581—Dick Merriwell’s Best Work; or, Up Against a
Hard Proposition.

582—Dick Merriwell’s Respite; or, The Campers of Lake
Calmface.

§83—Dick Merriwell’s Disadvantage ; or, The First Game
with Harvard.

584—Dick Merriwell Beset; or, The Revenge of Quinn .

Harvester.

585—Dick Merriwell’s Great Rival; or, Dale Sparkfair
on the Slab.

586—Dick Merriwell’s Distrust; or, Betrayed by a

. Blotter. a

587—Dick Merriwell, Lion-Tamer; or, Ate, Queen of

© <-the Air, |

588—Dick Merriwell’s Camp- -site ; or, The Peril at Pine
Point.

589—Dick Merriwell’s Debt; or, Settling the Score With —
Smoketown.

Postage stamps taken the same as money.

   

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How the Early
Numbers of the

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with No. 150 which is entitled “Frank Merriwell’s Schooldays.”

NS

EXELEXK EK ELE LELE

TIP TOP WEEKLY

THE boys who take interest in the adventures of Frank Merriwell
and want to read everything that was written about him, we desire

! i i

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May Be
Secured

to say that numbers 1 to 325 of the TIP TOP WEEKLY con-
taining his early adventures are entirely out of stock and will not be reprinted.
These numbers, however, were published in the Medal Library beginning

We give

herewith a complete list of all the Merriwell stories that have been pub-
lished in book form up to the time of writing.

We will send a complete catalogue of the Medal Library, which is just
full of good things for boys, on receipt of a one-cent stamp to cover postage.

 

 

—

MEDAL LIBRARY

150—Frank
167—Frank
178—Frank
184—F rank
189—F rank
193—Frank
197—Frank
201—Frank
205—Frank
209—F rank
213—Frank
217—Frank
225—Frank
229—F rank
233—Frank
237—Frank
240—Frank
244—F rank
247—Frank
251—Frank
254—Frank
258—Frank
262—F rank
267—Frank
271—Frank
276—Frank
280—F rank
284—Frank
288—F rank
292—Frank
296—F rank

300—F rank

AT 10 CENTS

Merriwell’s Schooldays.
Merriwell’s Chums,
Merriwell’s Foes.
Merriwell’s Trip West.
Merriwell Down South.
Merriwell’s Bravery.
Merriwell’s Hunting Tour.
Merriwell in Europe.
Merriwell at - Yale.
Merriwell’s Sports Afield.
Merriwell’s Races.
Merriwell’s Bicycle Tour.
Merriwell’s Courage.
Merriwell’s Daring.
Merriwell’s Athletes.
Merriwell’s Skill.
Merriwell’s Champions.
Merriwell’s Return to Yale.
Merriwell’s Secret.
Merriwell’s Danger.
Merriwell’s Loyalty.
Merriwell in Camp.
Merriwell’s Vacation.
Merriwell’s Cruise.
Merriwell’s Chase.
Merriwell in Maine.
Merriwell’s Struggle.
Merriwell’s First Job.
Merriwell’s Opportunity.
Merriwell’s Hard Luck.
Merriwell’s Protégé.
Merriwell on the Road.

MEDAL LIBRARY

AT 10 CENTS

304—Frank Merriwell’s Own Company.
308—Frank Merriwell’s Fame.
312—Frank Merriwell’s College Chums.
316—Frank Merriwell’s Problem.
320—Frank Merriwell’s Fortune.
324—Frank Merriwell’s New Comedian.
328—Frank Merriwell’s Prosperity.
332—Frank 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.
352—Frank Merriwell’s Double Shot.
350—Frank Merriwell’s Baseball Victories.
359—Frank Merriwell’s Confidence.
362—Frank Merriwell’s Auto.
365—Frank Merriwell’s Fun.
368—Frank Merriwell’s Generosity.
371—Frank Merriwell’s Tricks.

374—F rank Merriwell’s Temptation.
377—Frank Merriwell on. Top.

NEW MEDAL LIBRARY

AT 15 CENTS. (Increased Size)

380—Frank Merriwell’s Luck.
383—Frank Merriwell’s Mascot.
386—Frank Merriwell’s Reward.
389—Frank Merriwell’s Phantom.
392—Frank Merriwell’s Faith.
395—Frank Merriwell’s Victories.
398—Frank Merriwell’s Iron Nerve.

 

 

 

STREET & SMITH, Publishers,

NEW YORK

 

 

 

 

 

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