ie a ae = ee Issued Weekly. By subscription $2.50 per year. Entered as Second-class Matter at the N. VY. Post Office, by STREET & SMITH, 79-8 Seventh Avenue, , NV. Y. Entered according to Act of Congress in the year 1907, tn the Office of the Librarian of Congress, Washington, D. C. No. 594 Dick Mertiwell’s Warm Work OR, A HOT DAY FOR SMOKETOWN. By BURT L. CHAPTER [f, THE ROBBERY. For some time Lavan Blackpool had entertained political aspirations. His party ruled the State, and his aspirations had been but poorly satisfied when he was nominated and elected as State senator from his district. It was Lavan’s desire to sit in the governor’s chair. To the best of his ability, he had pulled the strings and worked the wires to land the coveted prize. All that his money, influence, and corruption could do had been done to gain the desired end. He had fancied his nomination for the office a foregone conclusion until the late mail on a certain day brought him‘a letter from the Honorable Joseph Stanley, who was the recognized political boss of the State. In unmistakable terms Stanley informed Blackpool that the situation demanded his withdrawal from the field in order that the Honorable Benjamin Towers should have a clear and undisputed path to the gover- NEW YORK, August 31, 1907. Price Five Cents. STANDISH. norship. The boss endeavored to show beyond ques- tion that it would be impossible for Blackpool to secure the nomination under existing circumstances, and, while he might produce a split in his party, he would forever ruin his chances of securing the prize he — sought. If he did withdraw and throw all his influ- ence in support of Towers, it was hinted that the course of time would bring a condition that would make him the logical candidate, and his generosity in stepping aside for Towers would then be recognized and serve him in good stead. The letter concluded with words that could not be misunderstood. Lavan. was advised to make a show of stepping aside volun- tarily, but was informed that all the powerful forces at the command of the boss would be used against him in case he did not decide to follow this course. " After perusing this letter Blackpool spent anything — but a restful night. In his window a light burned until the gray of dawn was beginning to tinge the east. When at last he did sleep his slumber was broken — by dreams which turned him into a pale, haggard man 2 hae Re who seemed to have aged many years between the set- ting and the rising of the sun. Lavan came late to breakfast and ate very little, although he drank three cups of black coffee. Brian _ habitually breakfasted with his father, but the house- keeper informed Lavan that his son had eaten and departed, It was 10 o’clock when Blackpool arrived at the lime company’s office. Both the bookkeeper and his as- sistant were there, but Lavan looked in vain for P. MeGee McKay, his private secretary. . When he in- quired for the man he was informed that McKay had not put in an appearance that morning. Then he asked for his stenographer, Miss Glode. “She hasn’t come, either, sir,” said the bookkeeper. There was something so unusual about this that Blackpool was not a little surprised as well as greatly angered. He entered his private office, growling sul- lenly to himself. The morning mail was on his desk, where it lay unopened. An unstamped, sealed letter bearing his _ name was fastened conspicuously to the desk by means of a hat-pin which had been thrust through one corner of it and inserted in a crevice. Lavan stared at the envelope, recognizing the hand- writing of Harriet Glode. “This will explain why she isn’t here he muttered, “I suppose she’ll make some sort of an excuse for absenting herself. She’s getting altogether too free, and [’ll have to stop it. She seems to think she can _ go and come as she chooses. She has an idea that she owns the place. I'll tell her a few things to-day.” On opening the letter and reading the brief com- — - munication he suddenly realized that there was very small prospect of telling Miss Glode anything that day. In language that seid not be misunderstood, the stenographer informed Lavan that she had left him. It was not this information, however, that caused him to start and snarl and glare at the letter as if he was on the point of tearing it with his teeth. Miss Glode - further stated that she had decided to accept P. McGee McKay’s offer of marriage, having arrived at the con- clusion that Layan himself was not serious in his at- tentions toward her. She stated that, like herself, McKay had tired of his job and quit. By the time from Smoketown. She thanked him a bit sarcastically for his favors and presents, among which she men~ tioned a watch, a necklace, a bracelet, and some rings. Blackpool perused those lines they would both be far ‘Blackpool. read ‘the, better, over aia and. was seid ; WEEKLY. glaring at it when there came a nervous, hesitating tap at the door. “Come in!” snarled the master. Pringle, the cashier, looking white and agitated, pre- sented himself. “Well, what is it?’ demanded Lavan. “Mr. Blackpool,” said Pringle, “I’m afraid some- thing’s wrong.” “What's wrong? Speak up, man! Curse it, every- thing’s wrong! Don’t stand, there like a ghost with your teeth chattering. What's the matter?” “The cash, sir—the cash!” “Eh? The cash?” "ak @8, "BITS; “Well, what’s the matter with the cash?” “It’s wrong.” Blackpool rose to his feet. “Wrong?” he thundered, a terrible look on his face. “Tell me what you mean by that, Pringle.” “You know I told you we had an unusual amount of money in the safe last night.” “Yes! go on. Speak quick. Has the safe’ been broken open ?”’ “No, sir; but rm “But what? Out with it. What’s the matter?” “The safe was locked all right when I opened it at the usual hour. Everything inside seemed to be just as I left it last night. The box in which I placed twenty-three hundred dollars in bills was locked. I supposed the money was there. box the money seemed to be all right. It was made up in a package and strapped with rubber bands. There was a hundred-dollar bill on the top,” =» “Well, lots of time! matter?” well, well,” snarled Lavan, “you're taking If it was just as you left it, what’s the “Tt wasn’t just as I left it. I examined that package just now and discovered that the hundred-dollar bill was the only money in it. The rest of the package was brown paper.” “What?” roared Lavan, making a single stride and clutching Pringle by the collar. “What's this you're telling me? dollars short?” “Yes, sir, it is,’ “Then you shall answer for it!” frothed Lavan. “You're the only person besides myself who had the i combination to that safe. If it was not broken open, you're the only one who could have taken that money,” 7 “I swear on my honor—-— CORES POE ef EM Shey ee neuen When I opened that Then the cash is twenty-two hundred ho do re su Bl sq in} in of ne ha a WE alii “The honor of a thief is worthless. You'll have a chance to tell your story in court, my man.” “Mr. Blackpool, hear me,” entreated Pringle. “TI hope I may never draw another breath if I touched a dollar of that money. I came to you with a clean reputation. I have a family, and my disgrace means suffering for them. Do you think I’m a fool, Mr. Blackpool? If I had robbed that safe, do you think I'd be here telling you of it at this time? Give mea square show, sir. Ill find a way to prove that I’m innocent, Investigate this matter, and you'll discover I’m not guilty. I was warned not to take a position in this office. I was told that I would regret it. You offered me a better salary than I was getting, and I needed the money. I’ve served you faithfully. I have-——” “What do I care about that?” looking out for myself. me the cash. raged Lavan. “I’m Take me to the safe. Show Lead the way, and don’t forget that I’m within reach of you every minute. Don’t try to skip.”’ “Little danger of that,” the way to the safe. muttered Pringle, as he led It was true that twenty-two hundred dollars had been abstracted from the safe in some mysterious man- ner. Thorough investigation satisfied Lavan Black- pool that the money was gone. The bookkeeper and his assistant were questioned. Although greatly agitated, both maintained absolute innocence and ignorance of the robbery. Lavan led Pringle back into the private office and questioned him for some time. The cashier swore that he had carefully guarded the secret of the safe’s com- bination, and in time Lavan began to believe the man truthful, although he persisted in maintaining an atmosphere of suspicion. “You can’t get away if you try, Pringle,” he said. “If you made the attempt, you'd be nabbed before you got very far. I’m in hopes you're innocent, as you claim. Go at once and find Sheriff Jones. Bring him here. This thing shall be sifted to the bottom, and the scoundrel who robbed me shall get the full limit of the law.” CHAPTER II. BRIAN’S ADVICE. Left alone in his private office, Lavan Blackpool made sure the door was tightly closed and fell to medi- tating wrathfully upon what had happened. “A thousand curses on the luck!’ he growled, as EiP: TOP - possible. WEEKLY. | 3 he nervously strode up and down the narrow confines of the room. “Everything has gone wrong of late. Luck has been giving me some nasty knocks. I don’t believe Pringle did take the money. He wouldn’t dare do it. He hasmt nerve enough. Then who did? There’s McKay, the thin-blooded, white-livered cur. But McKay didn’t know the combination to that safe. Whoever robbed the safe knew the combination. Whoever did it fixed up that package of brown paper with a hundred-dollar bill on the outside so that the discovery of the robbery would be delayed as long as Somehow that seems like McKay. He’s a It would give him time to get farther away. Pringle was reprehensibly careless. It was his duty to count the cash first thing on opening the safe. Had he done so, this robbery would have been discovered more than two hours ago. Two hours may give the robber the time he needs to make good his escape. I shall wire the news of this all over the State. Tl have officers on the watch for the thief.” He paused suddenly, rapping his knuckles sharply against his forehead. : “That woman,” he muttered; “that woman who skipped with McKay! Is it possible? I have the com- bination in cipher in my desk. She’s had plenty of opportunities to go through the desk, but even if she. saw the cipher, how could she make out the combina- tion? Would she dare to do it? After all Pve done for her, would she do it?” foxy rai. Standing there with his brow corrugated, Lavan Blackpool gradually ‘grew to believe it possible that Harriet Glode had robbed him. Bit by bit he arrived at the conclusion that the stenographer had seen the cipher, figured out the combination, and communicated — it to McKay. Slowly and reluctantly he decided that these two who had taken flight together were the ones who had plundered the safe. This conclusion turned his furious anger into a sort of silent rage that was even more terrible, although it was not so outwardly apparent. At this inopportune time Brian Blackpool, accom- panied by Foss Dilltwitter, unceremoniously sauntered into Lavan’s private office. “Hello, dad,” saluted Brian snetly: finding his father seated at the desk. “Didn’t see you at breakfast this’ morning. Heard you prowling around in your room last night. These east winds must be stirring up your rheumatism a bit. Well, we ought to have some — weather by to-morrow.” Without a word, Lavan steadily regarded his son. “I’ve heard from a couple of good men I need on pa my ball-team,” said Brian. “You know we're a bit weak since I was forced to kick McTeague off the team. Got to strengthen the weak spots in order to get into the run with Pine Point and Wolfwoods. . That set me scouring the country for one or two good players. I’ve spotted the men at last, and I heard from them both this morning. Got to pay ’em, of course. They both want money in advance before coming down here. I presume they’re broke. Well,” he went on, with a laugh, “‘they’re no worse off than I am just at present. I haven’t more than three dollars in my jeans. Can't put up the scads to bring those chaps down here with only three dollars in pocket, you un- derstand. It’s necessary to nail them right away, for they’ll be gobbled up by other teams unless I do. That | being the case, gov’nor, I decided to ask you for a e little money—a hundred will do.” a “Indeed ?” said Lavan, and there was an intonation ie in his voice that caused Brian to wonder. o “Oh, yes, that'll be enough, and I’ll have something o _ Jeft over for pin-money, dad.” i “You'll have to pay-these men salaries after you get them here?” “Oh, sure.” “How do you expect to do it?” “Um—er—well, we'll take up collections at the field. _If the field was fenced we might charge admission to see the games, but as it isn’t fenced, we'll have to de- _ pend on the generosity of the spectators.” “And you know you'll get practically nothing from the spectators. You know the condition of affairs in -Smoketown. You know two-thirds of the men who witness your baseball-games are out of employment. ‘Yet you have the cheek to come here and ask me for money to bring salaried players into Smoketown. You must think I have money to burn.” _ “My starth!” whispered Foss Dilltwitter to himself. - “Bwian’s thtwuck the old boy at the wrong time. The old gent ith in a deuthed nawthty humor thith mawn- eee _ “What’s that?” asked Lavan harshly. ‘What are _ you muttering to yourself? Look here, Brian, why do you bring that insipid, putty-faced fellow into my office? You ought to know hbetter.’’ “Good gwathuth !” gasped Foss. “I think I’d ene be going, Bwian.” “You had,” said Lavan acbendtly. 3” TOP’ WEEKLY. There's the. pecting the master to spring after him and hasten his exit with a kick, “I'm sorry I didn’t wait until you were in a better humor, gov’nor,” said Brian; ‘‘but I’ve never known you to kick on a little matter of this sort. You always wanted me to succeed. You're always anxious that I shall be at the top of the heap. Now I can’t suc- ceed in baseball unless I strengthen the team. You didn’t kick when I asked you for a motor-boat, and that boat cost far more than it will cost to run a win- ning baseball-team the rest of the I’ve started into this thing, and I feel that ] must see it through. What will Arlington think of me if I make a fizzle now? What will Merriwell think?’ “Merriwell! Yah!’ from season. burst Lavan, who brought his fist down with a heavy thump upon his— desk. “Don’t speak to me of that young scoundrel! Since the day he showed his face in Smoketown noth- ing but bad luck has followed me. He seems to be my hoodoo. He’s your natural enemy, and yet, in the most unaccountable manner, you've become friendly with him. On your account of late I’ve let up on Merriwell and his friends at Pine Point, but I’ve reached the end of that. I’ve decided that they must keep out of Smoketown in future. I won’t have them here.” “Don’t be unreasonable, dad,’ implored Brian. “How could Merriwell have anything to do with your bad luck, as you call it? I don’t see that you’ve had such bad luck.” “Don’t you, sir—don’t you?” “Indeed, I do not.”’ “You don’t know everything that has happened. Yet I presume you do know that the schooner Nancy Lee, loaded with lime and bound for Boston, struck | on a reef and was a total loss.” “I reckon the company can stand that, dad. They're © making money enough.” “These Italians in our employ are no good. Every- thing has gone wrong since we employed them. “That’s your own fault, dad. It was a case of bad judgment not to arbitrate with the strikers,” “Don’t come here and tell me I’ve used bad judg- — ment! Don’t tell me that I should arbitrate with a lot of common day laborers! Do you think ’m a man to have ordinary workmen dictate to me? I’m master of Smoketown and president of the New England | Lime Company. Do you read the papers, boy? Do you ever look at a newspaper?” “Sometimes.”’ 4 > ee it’s plain you haven't read them very closely. — Pitta ies See Sa = at Tiel eA he. a al Ai n _ marrying Lavan’s of late. or you'd know there’s a rival company orga- nized to fight us. It’s backed by Boston and New York capitalists. It’s an outrageous trust. Already they have purchased quarries at Gray Hill, Rockford, and Westport. They intend to send down the price of lime and force us into selling out to them.” Brian whistled softly. “This is news; gov’nor,” he admitted. “It seems that you’re up against the same game that you worked that the New England The independent forced out of business and com- yourself. knows gobbled up the smaller companies. Every one lime-burners were pelled to sell out to the New England at a heavy loss. I’m afraid you can’t put up much of a holler if a stronger organization resorts to the same tactics. You're pretty well fixed, dad. If you had to retire from business to-morrow, I fancy you wouldn’t go to the poor-farm. It’s my belief that you have enough boodle to provide bread and butter for yourself and for me, no matter what happens to the New England Lime Company.” “Which shows how little you understand my situa- tion, boy. I’m reputed to be wealthy, but the most of my money is placed in the stock of the N. E. L. Com- pany. If that stock becomes cheap or worthless, I'll be practically ruined.”’ “But I don’t suppose you intend to lie down without making a fight.” We're going to fight this other Jt will be a battle to the fin- “Certainly not. company tooth and nail. ish, but it will cost a great deal of money. Hereafter you'll have to go slow in your spending. It seems that every one has looked on me as legitimate prey. Do you know what happened here in this office last night? Of course you don’t. Well, the safe was robbed—robbed of twenty-two hundred dollars.” “Great Scott!’ exclaimed Brian. “Who did it?’ “That’s what I wish to learn. That’s what I mean to find out. I’ve sent for Sheriff Jones.”’ “How do you think that man’s going to assist you? You made him sheriff of the county, gov’nor, so that he could carry out your special orders. He hasn't brains enough in his head to prove of the slightest aid in this emergency: ‘do something.” Tell me the facts. Perhaps I can After a moment of hesitation, Lavan Blackpool told his son what he had discovered. He concluded by ex- % plaining that McKay and Miss Glode had skipped, the stenographer leaving a note which stated that she was . former private gag honed y. woman,” ~ T never did trust that TIP TOP WEEKLY. on his cheek. seid Brian. | es “You've been too familiar with her, dad. Frank words for me, perhaps, but you know it’s true. As for McKay. “As for McKay,” “T fired him once, but took him back because you wished me to do so.’ “That’s * nodded the boy, “but I must confess that I've never Pat McKay's take my snarled Lavan, true, placed a great deal of dependence in honesty. He was too fishy for me. Gov’nor, advice and have McKay and the woman apprehended on suspicion and brought back here. Send out warnings without delay. If you lose any time, they may get over the line into Canada be- fore it’s possible to nab them. Don’t wait for Jones. He’s been drinking the last three days, and he'll be utterly worthless as assistance.” “IT think you’re possibly right, Brian,” said the mas- ter, as he rose from his desk. “I’m going to follow out your suggestion.” A moment later he was at the telephone. CHAPTER III. FIRE! The master had finished telephoning when Pringle reappeared, followed by Sheriff Jones, whose face was flushed and whose step seemed a trifle unsteady. “‘Here’s the sheriff, sir,” said the cashier. “Ves, here I be,” growled Jones, “though I hadn't oughter be here. This man he come and said you'd got to see me right away. I tol’ him to git out and lemme ‘lone, but he kept on stickin’ and insistin’. There’s no tellin’ what them blamed dagos will be up to to-day. I’ve been watchin’ ’em, Mr. Blackpool. I tol’ you yisterday “bout that stranger with the scar I didn’t understand what he was doin’ pokin’ round the kilns and sheds. have no business here, but he was talkin’ with every dago laborer he could find. Rossano full and pump him. loaded I had to carry a purty heavy load myself. Now I jest want to git my hands on that scar-faced whelp. His name is Bono, and he’s up to deviltry as sure as 3 preaching. He’s going to make trouble with the Don’t jest understand it, but for some reason — or other he’s here tryin’ to git them to turn ag’inst — Let me catch him and [ll run dagos. you, Mr. Blackpool. him out of Smoketown in a hurry.” Lavan had not interrupted Jones during this speech, ta w hich ss iieac to be of considerable interest a him, : Tt eNO GEES cna an ai TS I thought there was some- thing up, Mr. Blackpool, and so I managed to git Tony While I was gittin’ him _ He didn’t seem to — é ey a ee a LN Fray MERE ite SR Fy Se EY 5 pee x 6 Tif: B02 although it still further increased his ire and irrita- tion. ‘“What’s next?’ he grated. “Everything seems to be coming at once; but I think you’re lying, Jones.” 9 “On my word, sir, I “T think lying,’ reiterated Blackpool. “You're trying to make an excuse for your disgraceful condition. You're loaded, man. Why should our laborers find fault? They are well paid, and I’m sure they seem satisfied.”’ you re “But they ain’t satisfied, Mr. Blackpool,’ asserted Jordan Jones, shaking his head. “To begin with, them Sturgis commissioners come into this county and grabbed all the beer you had sent for the dagos. Now they won’t work anywhere that they can’t have beer. The Sturgis men scat every saloon-keeper of Cat Alley so they practically shet up their places. What business have them Sturgisites to interfere with my. ’ficial duties? I’m sheriff of this county. I guess I know how to handle the rum business in this county. If they'll let me alone, I'll take keer of it. You can’t stop some men from drinking. If they can’t git decent liquor they'll manufacture stuff out of alcohol, and wood_al- cohol, at that, sometimes. I say an officer of the law has to use his judgment “bout what shall be sold in the liquor line and who shall sell it. I say you can’t keep dagos quiet and settled and satisfied unless you let em have their beer. Now the gov’nor must have a grudge ag’inst you, or else he wouldn’t let them Sturgisites. come down here and upset your business. That’s jest what they’re doin’. I dunno who’s back of this Bono, but he’s helpin’ things along on it ag’inst you. You mark my word, Mr. Blackpool—you mark my word!” In spite of an effort to maintain his usual air of authority and command, Lavan could not hide the in- creasing state of disturbance which was possessing him. , In truth, it appeared as if all this bad fortune had combined to strike him at once and assail him from all sides. Involuntarily he glanced toward his son as if seeking advice or assistance of some sort. “T’ll investigate Jones’ statement, gov’nor,” said Brian. “You attend to the other matter.” It was Lavan Blackpool’s theory that Italian la- borers could be handled with ease if they were supplied with a reasonable amount of lager. He had been sup- plying the beer until some one had complained and protested so that the State governor, first warning the sheriff, Jones, had sent Sturgis men into the county and seized the beer. Lavan had wired a protest to the governor, but as yet his message remained unanswered. WEEKLY. For years Blackpool had regarded himself as abso- lute master of Smoketown, and defiance of his author- ity had brought swift punishment upon the rebellious ones. Now it seemed that more than fifty per cent. of the people he had swayed and controlled were turned against him and. stood ready to aid in his undoing when the opportunity presented. “All right, son,” nodded Lavan, “I'll leave you to get at the bottom of this matter, while I take up the other business with the sheriff. Jones, are you sober enough to get a little sense through your head?” The officer muttered an indignant protest, declaring that he was perfectly ‘“shober.”’ “I’ve been robbed of twenty-two hundred dollars,” said Lavan. ‘The robbery was committed between the closing hour last night and the opening hour this morning. The money was placed in the office safe, and, whoever secured it, knew the combination of that safe, which was properly closed and locked when Pringle arrived this morning. Pringle protests his innocence, and I hope he can prove it. Suspicion falls on my private secretary “Not McKay?” cried Jones. “Yes, McKay.” “Where is he?” “Gone.” “Where?” “That’s for you to find out. My stenographer, Miss Glode, has skipped with McKay.” “Wha-a-a-at ?”’ drawled Jones, as if he could not be- “Why, I though you had—I thought it was—I kinder s’posed——” heve his ears. “Never mind what you thought or supposed,” Lavan cut in shortly. “The woman left a note which stated that she was going to marry McKay.” “Jumpin’ Jerusalem!” breathed Jordan Jones. “Why, folks said she had a snap here.”’ Blackpool scowled, his face crimson. ‘Some people talk a great deal!” he growled. “I’ve stated the facts of the case as briefly as possible. Sus- picion falls on McKay. I think the man took the miss- ing money. Now, you, as sheriff of this county, want to get busy and trace that couple.” “What time did they leave last night?” “McKay was not at the office later than three-thirty yesterday afternoon. Miss Glode left at five.” “And there was a train out of Smoketown at six- thirty,” said the sheriff. “Did anybody see them take the train?” “Find out,’ commanded Lavan. “If they took that train, it’s strange I’ve not heard of it already. Get OTR i a5 OR DRAG oe He? Da eed eg eR ee aoe ‘to your duty? TIP -¥OP about this work, Jones, and don’t lose a minute’s time. Pll look after the Italians and the man you call Bono. I’ll see that this Bono is run out of Smoketown in a hurry. [l]——’ 7 “What's that ?” A hoarse, jarring, prolonged note made the air vibrate. “The fire-alarm!” cried Brian. ‘I wonder where it is?” Rushing to the door, they heard some one cry: “The kilns! the kilns! They’re afire!’’ Brian ran out into the middle of the street and took a look. | “It must be the kilns near the Eastern Pier!’ shouted. “Where are the firemen?” The volunteer fire-department of Smoketown was made up almost wholly of the former workmen in the kilns and lime-sheds. These men had been on strike for some time. Already many of them, having given up the case as hopeless, had found means of leaving Smoketown for other parts. Yet a considerable num- ber remained, quite enough to handle the hand-tubs and make a battle against any ordinary conflagration. he For a few moments Lavan Blackpool seemed stunned. He was aroused by Jordan Jones, who shouted : “Tt’s the work of that infernal Bono!” In Lavan’s ear something seemed to whisper: “It’s the work of retribution !’’ In the vicinity of the Eastern Pier an unusual and increasing volume of smoke was rolling upward, A few strikers came jogging leisurely down the street. They saw the man to whom they had appealed in vain for a small increase of wages, and words un- heard by his ears passed between them. Lavan saw them and turned upon them furiously. “What are you doing here?” he roared. ‘Where’s the hose-cart? Where are the hand-tubs? You be- long to the department. Why aren’t you attending The kilns are burning!” “Let them burn,” said one man, more bold than his comrades. “‘What do we care?” At this several of the others laughed derisively. “It’s your duty to extinguish fires!” palpitated Lavan. “If you refuse to do your duty, you shall suffer! I'll see to it.” “What can you do more than you’ve done?” ques- tioned the boldest one of all. ‘You've taken the bread from the lips of our families. You've given our jobs to foreigners.. You’ve made us beggars. You can’t do more.” | ‘i ra WEEKLY. - And now half a dozen men and boys turned a distant corner with one of the hand-tubs. _ “I command you to give them assistance!” shouted Blackpool, pointing toward the tub. “Command and be hanged to you!” flung back the speaker of the strikers. “You'll get no help from them, gov’nor,” said Brian. “We'll have to depend on the Italians. Come on to the kilns.” CHAPTER IV. MERRIWELL’S APPEAL. The fact that the fire had seemed to break forth simultaneously in three of the kilns denoted beyond question that it was of incendiary origin. These kilns were in dangerous proximity to the company’s sheds and storehouses. They were likewise near the Eastern Pier. A strong southeast wind made it evident at once that unless the flames were promptly checked the lime company’s most prominent buildings would be swept away. Scores of chattering Italians were rushing about aimlessly when Lavan ‘Higekpoal came panting to the spot. Already Brian was seeking to organize the for- eign laborers for the purpose of fighting the fire, but they did not seem to understand him, and he could do nothing with them. . One hand-tub arrived at last, the hose was, run to the water-front, and a few men and boys hegan work- ing the pump, Lavan Blackpool rushed among the Italians, seizing one after another and attempting to force them to manipulate the pump. His efforts apparently added to their excitement and confusion without producing the result. he desired. Some of them chattered in their own language that the master of the company was ac- cusing them of burning the kilns, which caused them to shout and jabber still more excitedly. “It’s no use, gov'nor!” ‘cried Brian, “Those dagos — understand, but they won’t lift a hand to help you. — They’ve been bought off.’ “Then Sheriff Jones was right!” groaned Lavan, “The dago with the scarred cheek has done this. Heavens, boy, what are we going to do? The build- — ings will burn unless we can. get water onto the | flames!” — “There’s no question about that,’ admitted the boy: shaking his head, “A bucket-brigade aoe 96 better than nothing.” Meantime — American laborers who remained in aes CRIN RE ELD es Fo PR Spe arine TAI HON. 8 TIP: TOPS WHER LY: Smoketown had been gathering in the vicinity of the burning kilns, although they defiantly stood aloof and made no move to protect the lime company’s property. Now it happened that this very morning part of the Pine Point campers had decided on a visit to Smoke- town, and Casper Steele’s yacht, the Wavelark, dropped anchor off the Eastern Pier about the time the fire broke out. Having completely lost his head, Lavan Blackpool was furiously cursing the inactive strikers when Dick Merriwell, accompanied by several friends, arrived on the scene. Seemingly Dick took in the condition of affairs at once, for he -seized Brian by the shoulder and entreated him to silence his father. “He'll never get a man to lift a hand by talking to them in that manner,” said Dick. “Half of the boys are with me, and we'll do what -we can.” “Tt’ll take fifty men to hold that fire in check,” said Brian. “It'll take fifty men to save the sheds. © Look, Dick, one of the sheds has caught already!” This was true. _ Turning from Brian, Merriwell lost not a moment in reaching the side of the master. _ “Let me talk to these men,” he said. “Be silent. Unless you are, your property will all go up in smoke.” Lavan gave him one look of wonderment. What it was that tied the man’s tongue cannot be told, but of a sudden he fell silent as if a stronger will than his own had taken possession of him. Dick turned toward the silent, grim-faced strikers. “Men,” he said, his voice sounding clear and dis- tinct, “this is the time to prove that you are men. This is the time to prove your actual worth to the New England Lime Company. Those kilns were set afire by some one who wishes to injure you. If they burn, and you make no offer to save them, it will be believed that you started the fire. I do not believe you did it. I do not believe there is one man among you who would do it. Your enemies did it, and you will suf- fer more than any one else.” “Not more than old Blackpool!” cried the bold man among them. “Yes, more than Blackpool—far more,” declared Dick. “With the brand of rioters and firebugs upon you, where will you seek employment outside of Smoketown? Who will want men believed to be in- cendiaries? If these kilns and buildings are swept away, the lime company can build again. They have money enough.” “And the dagos can loaf a while,’ laughed the speaker ~f the crowd. ‘confident that you have done so. nits “They can remain idle and live, while you would starve,’ said Dick. “Look at them! Can you discover one among them who is trying to check that fire ?”’ “Old Blackpool ought to be proud of his new men! He gave them our places. Now let him depend on them to save his property.” “Those kilns were maliciously set on fire. If the American laborers of Smoketown did not apply the match, then the foreigners must have done so. Can I urge you to prove you are men by defending this prop- erty? Show your value as men to Lavan Blackpool. [f you do, it seems impossible that he will not realize his mistake in giving your positions to foreigners.” In some degree the boy’s words had produced an effect upon the strikers, but they still faltered until a thin, pale-faced man stepped out of their ranks and faced them. This man was Adam Blair, lately risen from a sick-bed, and Blair had been their leader at the time they asked for better wages. “Comrades,” said he, lifting his voice that all might hear, “this boy is right. If we stand idle and permit that property to burn, we'll forever find it impossible to convince the world that we did not start the fire. I’ve lately learned that there has been a secret agent at work among the Italian laborers, although his pur- pose was not known or understood. It is said that the New England Lime Company has a rival concern, re- cently organized for the purpose of* obtaining com- plete control of the lime business. Although I’m ma- king no charges, who can say that the attempted de- struction of this property is not the work of the rival It is for our interest that there should be two competing companies in this State. In that case the price of labor will be higher than at present. You listened to my advice at the time we struck. You lis- tened to my advice after we lost our jobs. I’ve steadily urged you to refrain from rioting and violence. [am I know you are not Yet, as Merriwell says, concern ? responsible for this outrage. if you stand idly by, you will become in a measure a’ party to the crime. You will be aiding the foreigners youvdespise. It is true that you can prove your special value to the lime company and to Lavan Blackpool by taking hold like men to fight this fire. You will do it—you know you will. You’ve never failed me. Come on, men—come on!” The desired effect was produced. The men who had faltered and scowled and professed a desire to see the property burned responded to these words with a hoarse cheer and followed Adam Blair as he led them to the work of fighting the flames. aerpion ae hier le IR) rit S SS $ : ‘ eee = a i a AR Ri enn tec i TE mn nen ee eS or oe DM ae se oe — “Phage S eta oo mS Se VE A A er Se ee ARS ene OS Ra 5 aan aa ee te ee ment as he goes along. Lavan Blackpool had listened to this modern theory and smiled. He had thought of many evil men who seemed to prosper and enjoy life without a single qualm of conscience, untouched by any form of punishment, and observation had led him to think that oftentimes the sinner was happier than the upright man. Had it been possible to uncover the secret lives of most of these men, he might have been astounded to discover that much of their outward happiness was a sham, and that the law of nature, or of God, which cannot be defied, had punished or was punishing, or would punish them all. This subtle law, which no human mind can perfectly comprehend, governs all things in the universe. To some it is the rod of wrath, feared and hated; to some it is the hand of gentle Good, leading to peace and happiness and the deep enjoyment of this ex- istence, which all men should know. In the case of Lavan Blackpool this law had seemed suspended for years, and now, as if the wrath of Judgment had been growing and accumulating against him, his punishment fell in a single crushing stroke. Already he had been wrought to a high pitch of emotion by the sudden rapid turn of unfavorable events, and now, as he thought of the frightful doom impending, he twisted and writhed and struggled with all the strength of his massive frame. Between his jaws the wooden gag cracked beneath the pressure of his strong teeth. Upon his neck and forehead the great veins swelled to the point of bursting. His eyes seemed bulging from his head, and his breath whistled through his nostrils. He groaned, and that groan was expressive of the fear that was upon him. In those frightful moments Blackpool suffered all the tortures of a lost soul. It did not seem possible that an eternity of punishment could contain more agony than was his as he twisted and tore at the cruel ropes which held him and cut his wrists. Never before had this man feared death. Never before had he thought of death hovering over him to clutch his heart-strings with cold fingers. To him, in his great strength and perfect health, to him in the high flood of life, to him death had seemed something remote and vague. He had not even paused to con- sider the sere and yellow years of his life which might come when strength and activity and the ability to crush and conquer had passed and were forever gone. He had not paused to think of those weary declining years when he should find himself going down life’s pathway alone, a rich man, with all the luxuries of this earth around him, but with no single human being EP: aa WEEKLY. It to love him and cheer his failing, faltering heart. Not once had he pictured himself as walking amid human beings, shunned by them and pointed at with disdain as one who had built his fortune by ruthlessly crush- ing the poor and forever ignoring the rights of the weak and helpless. But now it seemed that these years were not to come. He had refused the just demands of the honest, trusty Americans, who had served him in his quarries and his kilns with faithfulness that should have ‘made nim eager and ready to consider their plea. He had filled their positions with foreign laborers, even though these foreigners were unskilled at the work and of far less valué' to him than the men he disdained. Years ago, in the early days of the New England Lime Company, Blackpool had been active in the work of crushing independent companies in order that the New England might have complete monopoly of the business. It had been whispered that his was the brain which planned many of the “unfortunate acci- dents” which led to the undoing of these smaller com- panies. And now it seemed that that unseen law of which we spoke had brought terrible retribution upon him, for another and stronger company had risen, and its relentless hand was already dealing frightful blows at the New England. Strangely enough the heaviest blow of all came through the foreign laborers who had supplanted the American workmen. These men were easy to bribe, and one of their countrymen, em- ployed by the rival concern, had found little trouble © in corrupting them. Had such a thing been attempted with the Americans, it would have failed. Had Black- pool considered the just demands of those men and given them a reasonable advance in wages, they would have fought for his property like fiends. . Even now, after all his heartless injustice, they were out there in © the smoke, beaten by the scorching flames, doing their level best to save the balance of the kilns and the sheds from destruction. Little of this passed through Lavan’s mind just then, for he was too horribly tortured to think in a sane and connected manner. Yet he did remember he had been told that the day of his punishment would come, and within his soul a voice seemed crying that this was the day. ee “Twist-a, squirm-a, snort-a!’’ hissed the scar-faced fiend who had fired the fuse. “You no can git-a way. Bimeby pretty quick dynamite-a go boom. ~ Company sell-a out : I scoot-a. You dead-a. Biz’. gone-a. cheap-a.”’ 12 BAR eRe. The monster turned away—turned and left him there to die. CHAPTER VII. tT MER xX POS TON: In the midst of all the excitement Dick Merriwell, working at Brian Blackpool’s side, had sought to learn the cause of the fire. Brian had told him of the scar- faced Italian who was suspected. Now it happened by a strange chance that Dick was looking the sheds over, thinking it might be necessary to pull one of them down or blow it up in order to check the flames, when he discovered a man peering forth from a dark doorway. . That man had a hideous scar on his left cheek. In a twinkling he disappeared. “Ten to one that’s the rascal Brian spoke of,” thought Dick. ‘“What’s he doing there?” Cautiously approaching the doorway, Merriwell peered into the shed. 7 _ He could see nothing of the man. The interior of the place was lighted by a few dusty windows. It was the carpenter’s shop. Entering, Merriwell looked about, thinking the scar- faced wretch might be hiding in that building. He passed on through it from end to end without discover- ing Bono, | Beyond lay one of the sheds in which was tiered _the lime-barrels piled high to the roof, This shed seemed windowless. It was almost devoid of light. Between the up-tiered barrels led a narrow lane straight into the blackness beyond. the boy. “TI fancy it’s useless to follow him. I'll go _ back and get to ware I must do what Tcan. Every workman counts now.’ But, even as he turned, his keen ears caused him to fancy he heard the muttering of a voice far along _ that black lane. “Somebody talking in there,” decided Merriwell, again halting. ‘I wonder if it’s the fellow with the scar talking to accomplices. Perhaps they’re planning to start another fire yonder in the shadows. I'll in- vestigate. _ With the silence of a panther, he crept along the bs dark lane. _ And thus it happened that paral came tice to “T presume the scoundrel skipped this way,” thought | could warn him!’ a a ON Ie A LI RE EO TT ee eR Tj Ro einen tla WEEKLY. man. Dick’s ears heard another man struggling and panting on the ground. Dick’s nostrils detected a sus- picious odor of burning powder. “Stop!” he cried, springing out and confronting Bono. “What’s going on here?” With a savage curse in his own language, the Italian thrust a hand beneath his coat and whipped out a knife. “Spy-a! spy-a!” he snarled. “You come-a here to watch-a me! I cut-a your throat-a!’’ In vain Lavan Blackpool sought to cry a warning to Dick. He made a mumbled, inarticulate sound, but that was all. He saw the Italian leap like a wildcat, and he fancied it was all up with the boy. But Merriwell had not faced that man carelessly. When he stepped out he had held himself ready for anything. The swift movement of the Italian told him what to expect. He knew Bono had drawn a weapon. Quick as was the Italian, Merriwell seemed even quicker. To one side he dodged, escaping the stroke of the knife. Out shot his hand, and his fingers closed with almost bone-crushing force upon Bono’s wrist. The gagged and helpless man on the ground was a witness to the most furious encounter he had ever be- held, It seemed impossible for his staring eyes to fol- low the rapid movements of the combatants in that gloom. Hither and thither. they twisted and reeled, each striving with all his strength and wit for the mastery that meant so much. “Oh, merciful Heaven!” thought Lavan Blackpool. “It’s no use! The boy is no match for that wretch, The man is armed.” A cry of pain came from Bono, and something fell to the ground close by Blackpool. It was the knife. “Now we're on even terms,” came from Dick Mer- riwell’s lips. “Now we'll fight on the square and to the finish.” But all this time the fire at the end of the fuse was eating its way toward the train of powder. the spark reached the powder a hissing, flashing streak would shoot from one shed to the other. There would be no possibility of preventing the catastrophe, The explosion would follow immediately. Blackpool knew this. He twisted about and sought to reach the fuse with his feet, hoping to kick it aside, No use. The Italian had taken pains to leave the fuse beyond the reach of the bound man. “If I could cry to the boy!’ thought Lavan. “If I When et ts it apes 9" iA ety a a ey mee gk ete tae Hs. LT —— Saree’ i. ise » sets aa a t] , ee a | ee Th é er ss — SERA ey eet a | Ne OT Bk z Sage SS espe hae eedetteeuee imino se ee ee Ee fate | SS i. = ratcg 4 ae acai Seiten es f Fgh ree? 2 air Le se SP el ti But again his voice was choked and smothered to a groan behind that baffling gag. Apparently young Merriwell was wholly unaware of the terrible peril which now threatened them all. Ap- parently he did not comprehend what had been going forward in that shed. “We're all dead men,’ decided Blackpool. ‘The spark must be close to the powder now. It is! it is! I can see it! There’s no more than a foot of fuse lett.:’ No more than a foot, and the fatal atom of fire eating its way along that foot with deadly slowness that seemed like fearful speed to Blackpool’s horrified imagination. The Italian was panting and snarling in his own language. Once he cried out in satisfaction, for the boy had slipped and nearly ‘fallen, but, Merriwell re- covered and continued the struggle with all his might. Never in his life had Dick tackled such a slippery customer as Bono. A dozen times the boy seemed to have the Italian foul, but each time Bono managed to twist and squirm away. He was like an eel in Dick’s clutches, and, therefore, Merriwell was compelled con- stantly to change or renew his hold. | Down they went to their knees. at it again. Down they went at full length. Over and over they whirled upon the ground, and the slippery foreigner twisted from the boy’s hand, but as Bono tried to leap up Dick rose with him and grappled again, Hiss! hiss! hiss!—the fire on the fuse was creeping toward the powder. Barely six inches separated: the spark from that little pile of black, sandlike substance that would leap into deadly flame at the destroying touch, Was it possible indiscriminate fate meant to permit the destruction of Dick Merriwell along with Black- pool and Bono? The Italian was an athlete, and, having discovered his opponent to be no more than a boy, he had thought easily to vanquish Dick. He was beginning to pant for breath, while the boy seemed as fresh and deter- mined as ever. “You let-a me go—you let-a me go quick-a!” chat- tered Bono. “The fuse-a! The powd’! The dyna- mite-a! It blow-a us all up-a!” And now the wretch was doing his best to twist from Dick’s fingers and take flight Behind his gag Lavan Blackpool sought, to implore Dick to let Bono go. TIP.» TOP-. WEEKLY, Up they rose and | But Merriwell fought on stubbornly. [he Italian became frantic. “Fool-a! fool-a!” he snarled. “I tell-a you we be kill-a! I make-a da powd’ train to da dynamite-a. Da fuse-a it burn-a! Da powd’ go quick-a! Dynamite-a in da next shed-a!” As they reeled near the spot Bono made a desperate kick at the fuse. An instant later Merriwell accomplished his desire, for he back-heeled the wretch and sent him heavily to the ground. As the Italian fell his head struck with a resound- ing crack against a timber. Rs He lay still, stunned into unconsciousness. “Well, of all squirming reptiles I ever tackled, you're certainly the worst!’ muttered Dick, as he rose. “What was he saying about powder and dynamite? I. smell something that is not smoke from the fire. Where is it?” He struck a match, and Lavan Blackpool gasped as he thought what might occur should the boy drop that tiny flame upon the powder-train. Dick bent toward the ground, holding his. match low and looking around. He found a tiny bit of fuse still smoking and crushed it beneath his heel. Then he discovered the train of powder leading away into the next shed. With care he held the match to one side so no spark could drop upon that powder. “Right interesting this,’ he murmured. “As the snake with the scar talked of dynamite, I reckon I know where this powder leads.” | Behind the gag Blackpool groaned and mumbled. Dick gave the man his attention. The light of another match revealed Lavan’s pitiful plight. “Well, this certainly beats!’ murmured the boy. “Great Cesar, it’s Lavan Blackpool himselfi—bound and gagged! I'll have you free in a moment, sir.” The match-light had glinted on Bono’s knife lying — near. With the blade Merriwell hastily severed the ropes and set Lavan Blackpool free. Blackpool him- . self tore the gag from his jaws. But then he found that his jaws were still and a tongue numb. Half-incoherently he mumbled and — panted the tale of his frightful experience. Again horror came upon him, and, with the air of a madman, he dragged himself to his feet and sought to flee from the shed. In his blindness he ran against the barrels — and would have fallen had not Dick caught and te 0 ported him. “Out! out! out!’ gasped Lavan. “Give me air! 3 ape cas SR a. bb ie i ay ae st i Me a4F PEP SOP T must have | I’m choking! I’m dying! me out !’’ “Steady, Mr. Blackpool,”’ directly.’ “Help me now! Get me out!” gasped Lavan, sha- king like a leaf from head to feet. “Which where-—how can I get out? Don’t hold me! detain me! I’m choking! I’m chok—choking!” It was impossible to restrain him without positive violence. Along the dark passage they pitched and reeled. Again and again Blackpool would have plunged at full length upon his face only for Dick. Out through the carpenter’s shop they went—out to the open air, which was now thick with smoke from the fire. “Get away! get away! get away!” cried Blackpool. “The dynamite!” “T extinguished the fuse,” said Dick. Apparently his words fell on deaf ear hurried on with his arms outstretched and his hands outspread before him. Few who saw the man then recognized him as the master of Smoketown. The frightful experience through which he had passed had aged him in appearance nearly twenty years.- His hair and beard were tangled and matted. His face was said Dick. “Tl help you way— Don’t s, for Lavan deep-lined and haggard. His eyes were the eyes of - a man who had looked on death afte almost felt its benumbing touch. Suddenly something happened. The ground reeled and the dynamite-shed belched upward like a volcano, hurling timbers and earth and stones high into the air. Lavan Blackpool and his rescuer were flung face down- ward upon the quivering ground. CHAPTER VIII. THE RESCUE OF ADAM BLAIR. Just how it happened was never known. Perhaps Dick did not wholly extinguish the fuse when he ground it beneath his heel. Perhaps the stunned Italian recovered consciousness and completed his work of destruction. If this latter supposition were true, Bono destroyed himself, for two days later his charred remains were found amid the ruins. Unprepared for the catastrophe, at least a dozen of the laborers were caught and buried by the timbers of. the collapsing sheds. Those who were unharmed seemed temporarily stunned into inaction by the explosion. From beneath the débris came the sound of muffled WEI air! Help EKLY. groans and cries for help. One of the sheds, on the roof of which several fire-fighters had been at work, was not wholly destroyed. A part of it had collapsed, carrying several men down amid the mass of broken timbers. The end of the shed, which still stood, was burning. Dick Merriwell left Lavan Blackpool where he had fallen and turned toward the ruins. He shouted for the laborers to give a hand without delay comrades, whose cries were heard issuing from beneath those broken timbers. But as he led them in this work some one raised the cry that there was still more dynamite, and another explosion must follow. This frightened the crowd and caused them to fall back for safety. Dick hurried after them and besought them to prove that they were men. “Your friends and your neighbors are in those ruins !”’ “You can hear them calling you, in order to rescue their he cried. if you listen.” A white-faced girl broke through the ee and reached Dick. It was Agatha Blair. “Oh—oh!”’ she gasped. there somewhere! He was on that roof! save him—save him!”’ Brian Blackpool, coatless and hatless, begrimed with smoke and bespattered with water, heard her words. “We'll get him out, Aggie, if human hands can do !” he cried. Then, like Dick, he appealed to the faltering men, who responded by giving a chéer and flinging them- selves desperately into the work. In a mass, they fell upon the timbers and dragged them aside, one by one. It was Dick who thought of another plan. Thrust- ing his handkerchief into a bucket of water, he bound it, dripping wet, over his mouth and nostrils and rushed through the flaming, smoke-belching doorway “My father he—he is in Dick, Dick, _that led to the part of the shed still standing. Midway the roof,had been cut off jaggedly and fallen. Dick reached the collapsed portion and peered beneath it, aided by the fitful yellow light of the flames which burst at intervals through the thick smoke. His lungs were smarting and his eyes nearly blinded. In his head there was a buzzing sound. Before him he discovered a human leg and foot. Laying hold of this, he sought to drag forth the owner of that leg. Ordinarily he would have accomplished this with ease, but with each passing moment his strength was passing ‘also, and when he had pulled that man out he dropped limply across the body. wets {2 ee eS ‘ a a ee En ern SES IE Face Nig ta i eg ay NS 2 ele an pea ee ey pe RS si ee sen a Jat a ae OS ar coh eh dina ee ea sce = J a MY } ‘| re collar. the ground the smoke was less a bit of his strength and lifted Fortunately, near dense. Dick recovered himself. Above his head was fire. In front of him some of the ruins began to blaze. Heat seemed to scorch his flesh. Yet by the yellowish light which sifted through the smoke with wonderment and thank- fate had led him to Adam The man was unconscious, possibly dead. His -cloud he saw fulness that some strange Blair. body lay limp and lifeless, and blood streaked his fore- head. Had he been in condition Merriwell would have lifted Blair and carried him out to safety., He tried it now, but to his despair he could not raise the man from the ground. But now he was rapidly being over- come by the smoke. It seemed that the only chance for him was to desert Adam Blair and make an effort to stagger back into the open air. He thought of Agatha. She had appealed to him to save her father. If he should if he should desert the unconscious man and leave him there to his fate, never again could he face that girl. The boy vowed to save Blair or perish with him. Grasping the man’s collar, he sought to drag him through the broken shed. Overhead the burning roof creaked and snapped, threatening to fall. It showered sparks and bits of flaming wood upon them. Still, Dick Merriwell tugged and pulled at his help- less burden. Half-way across the shed he dragged Adam Blair. Then the upon him densely, his lungs seemed bursting, his head roared like Niagara, and once more he pitched across the body of the man. fail now, smoke closed There Brian Blackpool found them both, , Brian had seen Dick wet the handkerchief, bind it over his mouth, and rush into the shed, He had not seen Dick come forth. Young Blackpool followed Merriwell’s example. With a dripping handkerchief tied over his mouth and nose, he rushed into the shed and stumbled against the unconscious lad and the man he had tried to save. A breath of air whirled the smoke aside. A flare of firelight showed Brian whom he had found. “Heavens!’’ he panted. Then he stooped and fastened one hand into Blair’s With the other hand he seized a handful of Merriwell’s thick hair. Even though it seemed that he would tear Dick’s scalp from his head, Brian held on and dragged both man and boy out through the doorway. hee NIP WEEKLY. £5 They saw him Some of the laborers saw him appear. him falter and drop to his knees. They struggle up and drop again. Then those men dashed forward, lifted all three, and carried them to safety. Saw CHAPTER IX, AFTER THE FIRE. Strangely enough through the dastardly work by which he had sought to bring further disaster upon the lime company, Bono, the Italian, aided in checking the firey By wonderful good fortune not a man save Bono himself was killed by that explosion. Nearly ‘a dozen were dragged from the mass of débris, some with bad cuts and bruises, one with a broken leg, ana another with broken ribs, but none fatally hurt. Adam Blair himself had been rendered unconscious and had sustained a scalp wound, but, after recovering, he refused to leave the scene of the conflagration until it became certain that the fire was under control and could spread no farther. With a bloody handker- chief tied about his head, he remained and directed the efforts of the strikers, who had all worked like men to save the lime company’s property. Lavan Blackpool himself had not remained. It was said that he had left in a state of mind bordering on insanity, Agatha Blair remained as near as pos- sible to her father through it all. Blair’s strength was not sufficient to sustain him when he became satisfied that the fight against the fire was really won. collapse. . Dick Merriwell’s comrades, some of them unaware of the perils through which he had passed, continued to work with the American laborers. Dick found Brian Blackpool sustaining Adam Blair on one side, while Agatha sought to sustain him on the other, as the man finally started for home. Coming up quickly, Merriwell drew the girl away and took her place. “Well, you’re a sight, Dick, old boy,’ Blackpool, with a nervous, pecires laugh. nearly as black as a colored man,’ > “Tf you could see yourself, you'd realize that you'r fe | no better off,” returned Merriwell. “Tove, this has been a wild old day!” said Brian. “How are you comifig through it, Dick?” “Fairly well,” was the reply; “but I still feel as if I had smoke enough inside my lungs to cure a ham.” He was coughing constantly as he said this, = The danger over, he seemed to. said young “Youre; 3 6 LEP fOP “Tf you have lost any of those beautiful wavy tresses,” said Brian, “don’t blame me. I couldn’t pull you by your shirt-collar, and I had to get a good grip on your wool.”’ “T’m much obliged to you, scalp is a trifle loose.” “Don’t mention it,” understand you yanked the gov’nor out of the sheds just before the explosion took place.’’ “My boy,” said Adam Blair, speaking to Brian, “they tell me that you dragged both Dick and myself out of the burning shed.” “T won't deny it,’ grinned Brian; “but you owe it to Merriwell that you were found in there. No one 3rian. I believe my was the cheerful retort. “I else thought of rushing into the part of the shed that - was standing. You must have come down through the break when the roof collapsed. He found you and had you half-way to the door when he had to let up. I simply pulled you along the remainder of the dis- tance.” 3 “Oh, you were both so brave—so brave!” breathed Agatha. “You've placed the gov’nor mightily in debt to you to-day, Merriwell,” said Brian. “I think your appeal to the strikers did the business. I think that started them.” “Indeed it did,” acknowledged Adam Blair. “While I have constantly warned them against acts of vio- lence, like most of the others, I had become bitter toward your father. When I arrived on the scene and discovered the kilns burning and the sheds threat- ened I must confess that I was filled with a feeling of satisfaction. My first thought was that, as it was the act of none of our boys, there was no reason why we should not stand back and let the fire take its course. When Dick spoke I instantly realized my mis- take and added my appeal to his.” “Well, if the gov’nor can’t see the error of his ways after this, there’s something the matter with his head,” declared Brian. “If none of his former workmen who are out of a job had remained in Smoketown, the company’s entire property in the town would have been wiped out to-day. The dagos were absolutely no good. After that-explosion you couldn’t find one of them in the vicinity had you raked the ground with a fine-tooth comb. They were scared to death.” Twice on their way Adam Blair was forced to pause to xest, but finally they brought him faltering to his door, where he was met by Mrs. Blair. | “Oh, Adam,” she cried, “what has happened to ~ you! Are you hurt?” “T’ll never forget it.”’ WEEKLY. She had her arms around him. “No, no, my dear,” he answered, “I’m not hurt. Simply got a little rap on the head, but I’m all right.” “T should have been there,” said the woman, “but I could not leave little Tom.”’ “How is he?” “No better. The terrible explosion nearly fright- ened him into convulsions.” In Merriwell’s ear Blackpool murmured: “The little kid has been in bed ever since Mrs. Arlington’s automobile knocked him down. The doc- tors don’t seem to know what is the matter with him. [’'m afraid he’s hurt internally. Even though it seems remarkable, he has neither shown signs of recovery nor grown particularly worse since the first day.” Agatha Blair asked then to come in, and they ac- cepted the invitation. Adam dropped upon a chair, and Mrs. Blair hovy- ered over him, seeking to do what she could for him. “It seems that I would feel better if I could get a drink of water,’ coughed Dick. Agatha led the way to the kitchen. _ Dick drank greedily and did seem to feel a trifle better. “If you don’t mind,” he said, “I’m going to wash off some of this grime.” She hastened to provide a clean towel, and he washed at the sink. “Where is Mrs. Holmes, Agatha?” he asked. “Oh, she’s gone.” . “Gone where?” “To find her husband. has not written in three weeks now. what has happened to him.” ‘“‘How did Mrs. Holmes get money to go?” “Brian gave her the money.” “Brian?” breathed Dick, straightening up and look- ing at her over the towel. “Brian did that?” “Oh, yes, and lots more, Dick. He has been very kind.” “In what way?” “Why, I know he has prevented his father from turning us out of this house. More than that, I know he has loaned money to my father.” Dick hid his face behind the towel, for he was aware that a'sudden frown had settled upon it. After a few moments he looked at her again and observed; “You don’t seem so much afraid of Brian Blackpool You know Roger Holmes We don’t know as you were once,” Tie Ler To his surprise she answered: “I’m not afraid of him at all now, Dick.” “But he——” Dick checked himself. “IT know what you would say,” declared Agatha, as Merriwell declined to continue, “but you have not seen as much of him as I have lately. He seems to Once I did fear him. Do you know he came to me and talked with me in a way that made me believe him honest and sincere? He told me he was going to help us'as much as he could. He told me he was going to let my father have money, not as a gift and not for any favor that he expected in return. He said he felt certain the time would come before long when Lavan Blackpool would again desire the services of my father. He said that father would then be able to pay him back the loaned money. Had he proposed any other terms, [ am sure father would have refused. It was I who urged father to accept. But that’s not all, Dick. Brian has been very good to little Tom. He has sent him fruit and pictures and. toys. He has come and talked to him until Tom himself no longer fears Brian.” Dick Was it possible this seeming change in Brian could be sincere? Was it possible it was anything but craft and evil, with a black motive behind it all? They left the kitchen and found Adam Blair and his wife alone in the sitting-room. “Where’s Brian?” asked Agatha. “He’s in there with little Tom,” said Adam, point- ing toward the open door of a bedroom. Dick looked into that room. Brian, sitting on the edge of the bed, was playing fireman with little Tom. The pallid cripple had a toy fire-engine, and he was laughing as young Black- pool pretended to drive the tin horses at a mad pace down an imaginary street. “Oh, good! good!” cried the child, clapping his thin hands. “Do it again! Do it again!” Dick drew back softly.” “T think it’s best to take chances on Brian Black- pool,’ was his mental decision. be changed, Dick. S ; wondered. CHAPTER X. BROKEN. Wild-eyed and trembling, his cruel heart filled with craven fear, Lavan Blackpool made all possible haste toward his fine home. Again and again he turned to cast fearsome glances over his shoulders. Again and WEEKLY. 17 again his overwrought imagination caused him to fancy he heard pursuing feet at his heels. A,ain and again, when he neither heard nor saw a pursuer, he was convinced one must be there, reaching to clutch him with avenging hands. The horrors of the fearful experience he had passed through seemed to come upon him repeatedly. Time after time he once more fancied himself bound, gagged, and helpless in that dark shed, with the fatal spark creeping toward the black powder that would flash into fire and aid the dynamite in destroying him. He paid no heed to any living being he met. He muttered in his beard, and several times he shrieked with fear. No longer he thought of his property and its peril by fire. No longer he cared whether the fire swept away the lime company’s kilns and buildings. Now, for the first day in all his life, the fear of punishment for his evil deeds had taken the sap from his body and the iron from his blood. Was it possible that this aged, shivering, wild-eyed, muttering, shrinking man, affrighted at his own shadow, affrighted at everything and affrighted at nothing at all, could be the same pompous, cold- blooded, hard-handed, unfeeling creature hitherto known as “the master of Smoketown’”? In the past men had feared him, baring their heads at his ap- proach and scowling at his back when he had passed. Women had turned aside and given him room as if he were the owner of the very streets. Children had scudded before him, seeking, nooks of retreat as he went his way without a look or a thought for one of them. No, not without a thought. Once some one had said to Lavan Blackpool that it was hard for. the poor laborers of Smoketown that they should have so many children—so many mouths to feed. He had smiled sarcastically, shrugged his shoulders, and ob-. served that the more children poor people raised the more laborers there would be, and an oversupply of labor always made it cheap and easy to secure. He did not look on these poor people as human be- ings. He regarded them merely as animals, fitted to perform a certain amount of manual labor day after day, week after week, month after month, and year after year. While they were growing up and develop- ing into laborers they must be tolerated, even though they were nuisances; when they became too old and feeble to labor they were useless and in the way, and — it were better that they should die. Few aged people of Smoketown knew aught of that placid peace and — contentment that should come to all who have passed — the ambitious and useful stages of their existence. 18 ar ZlOP Few could sit content in their comfortable homes, knowing they had accumulated enough of the goods of this world to place them beyond dependence and want and enable them to take the rest that all workers deserve toward the sunset of life’s brief day. It was not, Blackpool’s wish or inclination to permit his work- ers to acquire much property, for he believed it would make them independent and less pliable to his com- mands and his will. He was willing that certain ones should enter into debt in an effort to pay for their humble little homes, for such debts bound them to Smoketown and prevented them from moving when they grew restless and dissatisfied. Such debts had kept nearly all of the strikers who now lingered in the village. Hopeless and despairing, they waited, unwill- ing to go away and abandon the homes they owned in part. It was hard to see the savings of years swept away in such a manner. A few women and many children, warned by the men, had not rushed to the vicinity of the fire. Many of these caught a glimpse of Lavan Blackpool as he hurried homeward that day, and, without an excep- tion, they drew back appalled or fled in greatest fear. _ When he had passed, the women rushed. together and asked one another if that could be the master. When he had passed some of the children were crying, but one tiny, sullen-faced tot, with flashing eyes and scowl- ing brow, found a stone and threw it after him. Lavan came in sight of his handsome home. There it was,’ set far back from the dusty road and sur- rounded by the broad lawns which prevented humble houses from crowding near. There it was, with the grimy clouds of Smoketown spreading above it; but if its owner had ever fancied the just eye of Heaven could not pierce those clouds, the time was not far dis- tant when he would come to realize and acknowledge _ his mistake. Most homes outwardly bespeak the nature and char- acter of their owners. Thus it was with this one. It was haughty, and grim, and massive, and repellent. It was handsome, yet hideous. It had the aspect of the unapproachable. It bore the stamp of that success " which is the greatest failure. Nowhere in all its out- ward seeming was there one token which spoke of real happiness. Between the stone posts of the narrow gateway that led to the winding foot-walk Lavan Blackpool passed, cursing his trembling limbs which threatened to fail beneath his body. He was still haunted by the fear that he might be followed, al- ness of his home. though he felt that safety lay within the grim fast- WEEKLY. When he had reached the door he could not find his key, and, therefore, he rang furiously. Many times this action was repeated before Bridget Scadgers, the the When she did open the door and saw him one glance With a gasping cry of amazement, she housekeeper, answered imperative simmons. was enough. flung up her arms and fell back. “What the devil is the matter with you?’ rasped Blackpool, as he entered and slammed the door behind him. “Why didn’t you come at once when | rang? What do you mean by keeping me ringing at the door?” “Is it you, Mr. Blackpool—is it you?” woman. “Of course it is I, you simple-minded old creature.” faltered the ““Hivven presarve ve, what has happined? rible ye look! It’s like a dead man ye look!’ “Now stop that talk—stop it!’ snarled Lavan, sha- king his fist at her. “Don’t talk about death to me— don't mention it—don’t breathe it! I won’t hear the word, do you understand ?—I won’t hear it!” Her fear of him increased. “Yis, sir; yis, sir, I understand,” she half-whim- pered. “May all the saints protect us, is it crazy ye are?” Again he cursed her. “I came as quick as I could,” she asserted. “I was at the top of the house watchin’ the fire, sir—indeed I was. - It’s a terrible experience ye must have had, sir. I was watchin’ whin the explosion took place. Was any wan killed, sir?” “T don’t know, and I don’t care. I’m here. Watch every door, woman. If any one comes, refuse to ad- mit him until you have spoken to me.” __ He turned to ascend the broad stairs, but was forced to pull himself upward by clinging to the banister. Seeming to forget Mrs. Scadgers, he once more began muttering to himself, his sentences broken and many of his words incoherent. In this manner he slowly dragged himself to the top*and passed from view on the way to his room. CHAPTER XI. THE DANGER LIGHT. Still begrimed and spattered, but feeling much relief and no little satisfaction over the success in stopping the conflagration, Brian Blackpool came whistling up the walk and let himself in with his own key. Bridget Scadgers met him in the hall. “Don’t be frightened, Mrs. Scadgers,” he said It’s ter- Seereaicnerts oe a Ee ee tet eA = a RE ET fT RIT NT TE rc arte ge te ae cheerfully, observing that she was agitated. “I know [ must be a spectacle, but soap and water and fresh clothes will restore me to my usual outward appear- ance.” “Oh, sir—oh, young master,” she faltered, “this has been a terrible day, so it has.” “It certainly has been a red-hot old day,” Brian. agreed “Looked like all our buildings would be wiped out, but, thanks to the strikers, we saved a good part of the property. Only for them it’s not impossible that Smoketown itself might be going up in smoke just now. Had they persisted in their refusal to fight the flames, this nasty wind would have carried the fire straight through the thickest part of the town. The dagos are just what I’ve said they were all along, worthless. We owe something to these Pine Pointers. We owe a great deal to Dick Merriwell. He has a way of getting men to do things, and it was his words that started Adam Blair and the strikers. Were you frightened by the fire, Mrs. Scadgers? This house was perfectly safe. There was no danger.” “It’s not the fire I’m thinking of, sir.” “Eh? Not the fire?” “No.” “Then what?” “Your father, sir.” “Well, what of him? I believe he did have a rather close call, but he came through it all right.” Mrs. Scadgers shook her head and held up her open hands. “You should hear him, sir.” “Hear him?” oe es Bits “Why ?” “He’s in his room now. Oh, he came home. he was terrible whin He looked like an old man, and he was so wild and fierce.” “Well, I reckon the old boy has had a hard day of it. He’s been up against it to-day, and no mistake. Such an experience is unusual for him. He can’t take it philosophically. He should be a philosopher.” “IT dunno who this Phil Osopher is, sir, that your father should be loike him, but I do know that your father is loike a man who has lost his sinses. It’s not a minute I’d stay under this roof if I thought him in his right mind.” “Why not?” “You should have heard the language he used to me. But I know he’s wrong, sir—he’s wrong here.” She tapped her forehead as she spoke. TIP TOP WEEKLY. 19 “A little twisted in the upper story, eh?” said Brian “Tell come out of that, all right. He’s too strong a man to let anything like this upset him.” “T dunno, I dunno,” muttered the woman. “Twice I’ve been half-way up the stairs, and twice ’ve come . down again for fear of him. I could hear him talk- ing in his room. It’s not like him.” “Well, perhaps it will be a good thing to keep away from him a while,” said Brian. ‘Perhaps it'll be wise to let him cool off of his own accord. T'll do that. I'll get straightened out a little myself before I inter- view the gov’nor. Don’t you worry, Mrs. Scadgers. Lots of things have happened to make him hot under the collar, but I reckon he’ll come around O. K. in the course of time.” Brian ascended the carpeted stairs and went straight to his room. Immediately on reaching the seclusion of his own apartment Lavan Blackpool had sought stimulation and strength by resorting to drink. Instead of calm- ing him, the fiery liquor seemed to increase his excite- ment. Up and down the room he paced, talking wildly to himself. Stumbling against a chair, he seized it fiercely and hurled it at the wall, where it smashed a picture. It fell to the floor and lay there unheeded. Again he drank. “So they've combined to crush me!” he snarled. “Well, they'll find I can fight! They'll find I have the strength to fight. Hereafter I'll be on my guard.” Finally he sank upon a chair and sat quite still, with his head bowed upon his breast. The only sound in the room was the ticking of a French clock upon the mantel. Little by little he became aware of this sound, and, strangely enough, it again aroused his anger and resentment. To him the clock seemed saying that it was hastening the minutes of his life and turning them to hours which should swiftly bring retribution and punishment. There was mockery in -every tick. With another burst of rage, Lavan grasped a book | and flung it at the clock, which was knocked from the | mantel to. the floor, but still, as it lay where it had fallen, it continued the mocking ticking, leading him to spring up and kick it and smash it and grind it © beneath his feet until it was silent. Turning from this crazy work, he chanced to eu a glimpse of his own reflection in a mirror. He halted and stood as if turned to stone. After some moments his lips moved and he whispered: “Those, eyes—my eyes, how strange they are fs They’re changed. Are those my eyes? I’ve seen eyes. that looked like those. They were the eyes of Jasper ESE Clifford. They were the eyes of a deranged man. Wait, Lavan Blackpool. Get a hold on yourself. Are you losing your senses? Are you going daft? If any one should see your eyes as they look now, he might think you deranged. You must be careful, man, You are still the master of Smoketown—you are still the master. Be master of yourself.” He seemed to realize that a strange, unsuspected peril threatened him. The realization caused him to set his teeth and fight to gain control of his shattered nerves. He bathed and dressed, holding himself in restraint all the while. And not once more did he venture to look at his own reflection in the mirror, He dared not, CHAPTER XII. FATHER AND SON. . Brian knocked at his father’s door. He was forced _. to repeat this performance twice before Lavan, within __ the room, called to know who was there. fs “It’s I, gov’nor,” answered the boy. “What do you want?” “Oh, I just thought I’d find out if you were all right. Open up, dad.” After some delay, Lavan slowly opened the door. Brian stepped in. “Whew!” he whistled softly, staring at his father, “Evidently it did tell on you some, gov’nor.’ In truth the boy was startled by the amazing change in his parenf. Nevertheless, he checked himself at this point and did not speak the thoughts that filled his mind. -- Lavan’s eyes moved restlessly, and he shaded them with his lowered lids. He feared Brian had detected the thing that had so shocked and startled him when he looked into the mirror. appearance of the magnate. Not only was the man’s _ face changed, but there was a droop to his shoul- ders, as if a sudden weight of added years had bur- dened him. Brian was filled with iret - “Tt’s been a tough day for you, dad,” he said gently ; “but you shouldn’t take it so hard. You can stand it. _ Great Scott! what’s a little loss of property to the New England Lime Company? They’ll build again, and wnere: those kilns were pears’ new kilns will go at . at’s true,” nodded Lavan. ‘Not all the das- tardly aes oF the qneeny. can ehh it.” TOP WEEKLY. Ei But it was not this.as much as the altered and aged. At this point he laughed, and there was something in the sound which gave the boy a shiver. “What do you mean, gov’nor?’’ questioned Brian. “Of course, I know those fires were set; but do you think———” “I know the influence back of it all. I told you of the rival concern that has risen to crush us. Months ago the head of that concern tried to enter into nego- tiations with me. He proposed to buy out the N. E. L. Co. I cut him short. I told him he could not command money enough to buy us out. Since then they’ve been planning to force us into selling. Evi- dently their plans are ripe, and they've struck at last. Evidently they will hesitate at nothing. Boy, you little know what I passed through this day. You lit- tle know*that the dago agent of the enemy struck me down in one of those sheds, tied me, gagged me, and then sought to destroy me in that explosion.” “I know something of it, dad.” “How do you know?” “From Merriwell.” “Yah!” snarled Lavan. How I hate that name!’ “But, gov’nor—gov’nor, he saved you to-day. He found you and lugged you out of the sheds in time to prevent you from being killed in that explosion.” “Yah!” snarled the master once more. “With the coming of that meddlesome boy to this town fortune turned against me.” “Be reasonable,” urged Brian. ‘You tried to drive the strikers to work to-day. They gave no heed to your words. Merriwell appealed to them, and they responded. erty and saved Smoketown itself, for without men to fight that fire it would have spread through the very heart of the town.” “Some of them had houses that would have been burned.” “Merriwell! Merriwell! “Houses half-paid for, gov’nor. Houses they can- not wholly pay for unless you relent and give them back their jobs. You have shown no sign of relent- ing. Little difference it would have made to them had those houses been destroyed,” But still Lavan insisted that the strikers had fought the fire from selfish motives. It seemed useless for Brian to argue. , “Take Adam Blair, goy’nor. any property in Smoketown. Think what he did. Just risen from a sick-bed, and still weak and ill, he led those men in the work to check the flames.” They were the men who saved your prop- He has no claim on “Yes, I’ve thought of him—lI’ve thought of him! CLP SRP ee Roa Crete cae. =e. SRT PURE Seem oer ere Pema ae Ses Fa Te Peres an eit rae Marne ee EE: = os ze A shania ee pene rene YOu re bet hir like in - COr thi: fell of oft MS > Orage eamiboncee§ ge eS er es - EE MR MESA Se seers ER PRE a ae “Satie bs pe in you! you take me to be. TTR epee ere ae mes ere Te PE TARTS aN aI eee tte ea bite a gi he ker He was the leader in the strike. Only for him I’d not been forced to take those cursed dagos into the kilns.”’ “The Italians are poor substitutes for good, honest dad. depend on them to-day, } As workmen they are unskilled, and already the com- pany has lost more than it would have cost you had you accepted the reasonable terms of the strikers and American laborers, Had you been forced to you can imagine the result. granted them the slight advance in wages for which they asked. If you continue obdurate, your losses and the losses of the company will be still greater. In agitations arbitra- Without doubt in most cases there is right and wrong on both sides.” and tion is the just way of settlement. these times of labor troubles “What do you know about such aS, boy?” de- manded Lavan, contemptuously. “You've had business experience. lems. You've not dé as I have. a laboring man down is to keep him. beneath your ilt with common day-laborers You can’t realize that the only way to hold thumb. Let him wiggle loose, let him rise a bit, and. he becomes insolent and self-assertive. In short order he begins to think himself as good as you are. He'll tell you that all production is the result of labor. He'll tell you that wealth is the product of labor, and, there- fore, wealth belongs to the laboring man. He hasn’t sense enough to reason that without the brains to di- rect labor labor itself is of little value.” “But it’s not always the capitalist and the rich man who has the brains, gov’nor. On my word, I’m be- ginning to believe that brains are just about the cheap- est commodity in the world to-day. I’ve seen them bought for a pittance. Give a man plenty of boodle and a little horse sense and he can buy another man with a good supply of fine brains to conduct his busi- ness and pile up money for him. He won't have to pay such an astonishing sum, either.” “Now, stop—stop where you are!” snarled Lavan, betraying some of the excitement that had possessed him within the hour. “I won’t have my son talking like that. Boy, you’re a socialist! Boy, you’re an anarchist! I’m dismayed at you! I’m disappointed I’m disgusted with you! What will you come to when I’m gone? Why, you'll be a sympa- thizer with the dirty common laborer. You'll be hail- fellow-well-met with the boastful, horny-handed son of toil. I can’t think of my son coming to that.” “Steady, dad—steady,”’ warned Brian. “Don’t go off your nut that fashion. I’m not as big a fool as 3 I did think that the event to-day TOP no You've not studied these prob- ‘didn’t he spurn my offer? WEEKLY. would open your eyes to the fact that there are various grades of labor, some being of little or no value, while some are worth far more than most employers realize,” “That may be true, but the workmen themselves do not realize it, boy. What do these labor-unions do? They make fixed scales of wages for the different grades of labor, and the slovenly, careless workman receives the same pay as his clever, ambitious com- rade of the same grade. They are ruining ambition and individual effort. They are discouraging men from attempting to rise.” At this Brian nodded his agreement with his father. “That’s all too true, gov’nor,” he said. “That’s where the labor-unions are seriously at fault. No thinking man disputes it. That’s one of their mis- takes. On the other hand, the employers have com- bined and conspired to hold the laborers down, which is their mistake and their injustice. I didn’t come here. to argue these points with you, gov’nor, but I did hope that you would realize the folly of maintaining your position against the American laborers of Smoketown. I did hope you would now see the diplomacy of meet- ing them and discussing with them their grievance which led them to strike. In case you were still un- willing to accept their terms, I hoped you would offer to compromise or to arbitrate. I’m sure you can talk reason with Adam Blair, and I’nr sure he will influ- ence and sway his fellow strikers.” “That’s right! that’s right!” snapped Lavan furi- ously. ‘He has influenced and swayed them,” “Forget that. It’s useless to harp upon that string. In fighting to save your property to-day Adam Blair, was nearly killed. When the explosion came he was hurled beneath some of the débris, and only for Mer- riwell and myself he might have remained there and died.” “And you helped save him?” “I’m proud to say I did, gov’nor,’ | “Proud! Yah! Had you left him to die, chase dogs might have been broken-spirited without their | leader. They might have come creeping back to me — to beg for their old positions at the old scale of wages. That’s what I’m waiting for. 1 mean to take them back when they do so, all save a few of the ring- leaders. Look you, boy, didn’t I humble myself in a way before this man Blair? Didn’t I go to his house — and make him a proposition that any man of reason — or judgment would have accepted in a rnoment? And_ I’ve waited for him to realize his folly and come to me. LEC: Seth tS aS eS es | N RB SE a a = in Soe 22 TIP TOP WEEKLY. haven’t forced him out of Smoketown. I shall wait no longer. “T’ve been dead easy of late. The moment Lavan Blackpool grows soft and easy fate hits him a thump. The day of my softness is past. I shall give little at- tention to McKay or the woman who skipped with him. If they escape, let them go. But I shall give my attention to several parties within my reach. Over in the woods beyond Pine Point hides that crazy fool, Jasper Clifford. He’s a maniac, and he should be incarcerated in a madhouse. I shall have him cap- tured and confined. This day I shall instruct Jordan Jones to turn the Blairs into the street. Words are useless, Brian. My mind is made up. “As for those campers on Pine Point, they shall be driven away if I have to send half a hundred armed men to do the work. Ill not have Dick Merriwell here to defy me and to excite opposition to my au- thority. That is settled.” CHAPTER XIII. CASPER’S PROPOSAL. Dick Merriwell lingered so long at the home of ° Adam Blair that finally his comrades came in search of him. : “Whatever is detaining you, partner?’ inquired Buckhart, who, like all the others, was dirty and be- grimed. “We've been waiting for you to hike along back so that we could get to the Point and indulge in a few ablutions, I sure feel as if I had been fried, baked, and roasted, both inside and out. They tell me my eyebrows and lashes are pretty near gone, and my hair singed some. You're looking rather chipper and perked up. You must have lately indulged in the luxury of soap and water.” Agatha urged them all to come in, and showed them to the kitchen sink, where they could enjoy the same “luxury.” “Tut-tut-talk about doings,” chattered Chip Jolliby, as he slapped the water over his face and head. “Smoketown has sus-sus-sus-seen a few dud-dud-do- ings to-day.” “Gentlemen,” said Rob Claxton, who was waiting his turn at the sink antl looking as begrimed as any of them, “this is my first experience as a volunteer fire- man. It certainly is right hot work, but I must admit I rather like it. There’s a heap of excitement in it.” “Especially when you’re in danger of being blown sky high by dynamite,” chuckled Tommy Tucker. “Obediah should have been here.” “Tt’s a good thing Obey wasn't here,” declared Earl Gardner. “He would have been in the way. Wonder what he and Singleton thought when they heard that explosion? They must have heard it, all right.” “Guess they thought Smoketown was being bom- bom-bombarded,” grinned Jolliby. Having washed, Buckhart strolled into the sitting- room and talked: with Adam Blair. “It seems to be the universal opinion,” said Brad, “that old Blackpool will have sense enough now to get his optics open some to the uselessness of his dago workmen.”’ “Who thinks so?” asked Adam. “Well, I heard a number of citizens observe some- thing of the sort, and it certain seems that way to me.” “I’m not sure of it,” said Blair doubtfully. “Why, any galoot with an ounce of sense in his head would have to see the difference between reliable Americans and those foreigners:” > “Lavan Blackpool is an obstinate man. Even if he did see, he might not admit the fact.” “Then he’s a chump!” cried the Texan. “If he knew what was best for him, he’d fire the whole bunch of dagos and get his old workmen back. They say he came pretty near cashing in his chips himself. [ didn’t happen to see it, but I understand my pard pulled him out of those sheds just before the dynamite lifted things some.” “That’s right,” nodded Adam, about whose head a bandage had been tied. “Like myself, Lavan Black- pool practically owes his life to Dick Merriwell, but, unlike me, I doubt if he will give Dick the credit.” “Well, if that’s the case, he hasn’t any right to be at the head of a concern like the New England Lime Company. Hello, Steele, old chap! What have you been doing?” Casper Steele, blackened and begrimed, came smi- ling from the bedroom in which little Tom lay. “Been playing coon for the amusement of Tom,” answered Steele. “He was a bit scared at first, but when he recognized me he thought. it great sport. Still, I don’t know but the excitement was rather too much for him. Mrs. Blair is trying to quiet him now. Where did you find the agua pura with which you removed the stains from your cuticle, Brad?’ Agatha answered by touching him on the arm and leading him toward the kitchen. “Well, you certainly look like anything but the son of a millionaire just now, Steele,” laughed Claxton. “You look more like a coal-heaver, suh.”’ “Well, you weren't looking so very genteel yourself Sst i lal e 1: ie TU 1 i gest PE Ee eA Sess Post™ A ne aE ETL PG EE PLN as ee ee ee a ae Ae TOP WEEE LY: 23 before you found the soap and water,” was the good- natured retort. “No one would have fancied you the cultured Virginia gentleman of immaculate appear- ance.”’ Claxton laughed at this “There are times,” he said, “when a gentleman can get as dirty as any one and still remain a gentleman; but he invariably indulges in the luxury of cleanliness at the first opportunity.”’ Having washed, Casper was using a towel when, through the open back door, he observed that Agatha had left the house and was disappearing amid the shade of the high lilac bushes in the back yard. In a careless, indifferent manner Casper hastened to follow her. With his eyes on the ground and his ears keenly alert, he wandered into the shrubbery and pre- tended to be very much surprised when he suddenly came upon her resting on an old-fashioned rustic seat that Roger Holmes had made out there in a shady spot. “Agatha—Miss Blair!” he exclaimed, stopping short. “Mr. Steele!’ She started to rise. “Oh, don’t let me disturb you,” he said hastily. ‘‘I presume you feel quite exhausted now that the excite- ment is all over.’’ “T’m still nervous and shaking,’ she acknowledged. “It has been a dreadful day.” “Tt has been a great day for the honest American laborers of Smoketown. Please sit down again, Am I such a disagreeable person that you feel you must run away from me?” “Far from it, Mr. Steele.” “Still, you’re very formal with me. You do not call Dick Merriwell mister. You call him by his given name. Why won't you be equally kind to me?” Kind f7 . “Yes; for I regard it in that light. I am Dick’s friend, and we are all your friends, Miss Blair,” “But you call me miss.” “Because I’ve never been given the privilege to address you otherwise. If I was sure you would not _ _ be offended | “You may be sure. It gives me pleasure to have any of Dick’s friends call me Agatha.” “You like Dick?” “Tt admire him very much. Perhaps I might say that I like him. That wouldn’t be wrong, would it?” “No, indeed. Fact is, I don’t see how you can help liking him, for every one does. In a way, he’s a lucky fellow, yet it’s not all luck. Nevertheless, J wish it had been my fortune this day to aid in rescuing your father, Agatha. I never seem to do anything particularly heroic. When the opportunity presents, somebody steps in ahead of me and carries off the laurels. Perhaps I’m too slow, although at college I was never called very slow. To make a confession, I’m afraid I was a bit too fast for my own good. I didn’t get through my college course, you know. It bumped my father pretty hard when I fizzled. I’m going to prove to him when the time comes that I can be of some use in this world, even though I failed to get a sheepskin and a B. A. Lots of men who have never seen colleges succeed in proving their worth in the world.” Casper was strangely nervous and seemed to be seeking for words that would hide this condition from her eyes. She was again resting on the rustic seat, toying Te with a branch broken from the lilac bushes. Once she looked up at him, but when his eyes met hers her | lids drooped instantly and a flush crept into her cheeks. Steele was not slow to detect every change in her ‘ face, and something caused his heart to pound un- steadily in his bosom. Drawing a bit nearer, he stood | ? looking down upon her. He noted the graceful out- — lines of her figure, the delicate formation of her fine hands, the curve of her cheek, and the slightest sug-_ gestion of gold in her hair. Beyond question this girl would develop into a wonderfully attractive and hand- some woman, and Casper Steele knew it. Beyond | question there was in her nature that finer grain which marks the lady in spite of lowly birth, and Casper Steele knew it. The softness of her voice, the sweet- ness of her smile, the gentleness of her character all bespoke good things for her in years to come if fate were ae an was marvelous ane such a rare e bud ‘ ea 3 ta ae oe x & ‘4 i“ ¥% he Tie Or could be opening into blossom ‘neath the grimy skies of Smoketown. Steele’s heart was full of sympathy, and sympathy between sexes is always closely allied to a stronger emotion. In spite of his present agitation, he was resolved to be bold and try a cast with the dice of fate. “Tt is possible now,” he said, “that your troubles in Smoketown are at an end. It seems probable in the near future that your father will again have his old position with the lime company.” “Somehow I cannot think so,” she quickly replied. “T have no faith to believe that Lavan Blackpool will relent. Only for Dick and for Brian he would have cast us into the streets He is set as the granite hills. long ere this.” Steele shrugged his shoulders and a cloud flitted over his face. “Brian!” he muttered. “Brian! There was a time when you both feared and hated that fellow.” “Tt’s true,” she admitted; “but of late he has been so kind that my feelings toward him have changed.” “There are others who would be equally kind, or even more so, would you let them. I’m speaking for Not quite, myself, Agatha. I’m almost twenty-one. but almost. I feel that I’m aman. I am sure I know my own mind. It has been my fortune to meet hun- dreds of girls, but, strangely enough, until I came away down here upon the coast of Maine I had never met one who really and truly interested me deeply. I’m not going to-seek for flowery words, for I know I cannot find them. I’m not going to hesitate, for fear I might never again summon courage to say what I long to say. Agatha, my father is well fixed, and he has promised to give me a start in the world as soon as I am ready to go into business. I know he’ll keep that promise. He has never refused me any- thing reasonable that I have asked; but there is one thing I want more than everything else in the world, and that is not for him to give. Agatha—don’t be frightened—please listen. Agatha, I want you.” _ Again she sprang up. “Wait, wait,” he breathed, holding out his hands; “don’t misunderstand me! I want you for my very own. I want you to protect and shelter. I seek the WEEKLY. te rey = od - » os ees eee echt oe nar setae 8S remake tithe aoe se renter mee tt privilege of making your father independent of tyrants like Lavan Blackpool. I seek the privilege of caring for your cripple brother. Agatha Blair, I love you, and I want to marry you.”’ “Oh—oh, Mr. Steele—Mr. Steele!’ she panted. “Say that you care for me. Say that you'll have me,” he urged. on: cant; 1 cai t. It didn’t seem possible that you, I didn’t dream you meant anything like this. the son of a rich man, should care for me in such a I’m sure you've not considered.” “T’ve thought it all over. way. “T have,” he interrupted. A little money makes no difference in our positions, Agatha. If you feel that it does, I had rather I were poor, without a dollar to my name.” “You must not talk to me like this,’ she faltered. — “Tt can never be. truly it’s impossible. You are kind and good, and I shall always think of you in the tenderest manner, but what you ask is impossible. You've frightened me I’m only a little girl, and such a thing is Please don’t dreadfully. far in the future for me. I must go. stop me—please, please!’ “Just one word more,” he urged huskily. “Perhaps I've been too hasty. Perhaps I should have taken more time. Perhaps I should have let you know my feelings before speaking out in this way. Even though you say it can never be, I shall not give up hope. Time may change your sentiment toward me. I pray that fate may give me the opportunity of prov- ing how earnest and sincere J am. Agatha, Agatha, let us still be friends. Don’t shun me in future be- cause of what I have this day said.” 9? “Oh; no, no,” she answered. He caught her hand in his and raised it to his lips. At that moment Brian Blackpool came upon them. CHAPTER XIV. LITTLE TOM GOES AWAY. Agatha fled to the house and found Dick looking for her. “Your brother,” he said; “they have sent for the’ doctor. You had better go to him at once.” I’m very, very grateful, but truly, — —— Beto OD at —_ IT Mm yc tr PG ne SW mi ho his suc Cat Sal Bla this sen hin 5: Ad oat eiac: AF ERR OLE AO ap sl sent for the doctor. SRA TE ee Te et en She clutched his arm. “Dick! Dick!” she panted, with a motion toward the lilacs; “out there—Casper and Brian! Go at once and stand between them!” Wondering at this, Merriwell hastened into the shrubbery and found Casper Steele and Brian Black- pool, fists clenched, teeth set, eyes blazing, glaring at each other as if on the point of a deadly struggle. “What’s all this promptly stepping between them. mean?’ demanded Merriwell, “Ask him!” rasped Brian, pointing an accusing fin- ger at Steele. “Ask your fine, high-minded friend. You gave me a call-down for bestowing attentions on Agatha Blair, but I caught him here making love to her.” “Casper?’’ questioned Dick. “It’s true,” affirmed Steele defiantly. me here making love to her. “He caught I had just asked her to marry me.” “To—marry—you?” gasped Brian. “Exactly,” nodded Steele, “to marry me. To give me the privilege to protect her from all Blackpools, Don’t think it trickery or deception on my part, Brian Blackpool.” young and old. And I meant it, too. “Her—her answer?” faltered Brian. “It was ‘No,’ but I’ve not given up on that account. I shall remain near Smoketown. I shall remain within reach and stand ready to come to her in her time of need.” “It was ‘No,’ ” sweeping over him. muttered Brian, unspeakable relief “Steele, I beg your pardon if I misunderstood your motive. I came here hoping to hold my father in check in case he tries to carry out his threat to evict the Blairs at once. He has made such a threat. Even now he is gathering the men to carry it into execution.” “Then it will be necessary for us all to stand by,” said Dick. Blackpool. “Bury the hatchet, Steele. Plant it deep, Show your manhood, both of you. At this moment I fear little Tom Blair is dying. They’ve With my own arms I brought him from the bedroom, at his request, and placed him on the couch by the open window in the sitting-room.” Brian seemed astounded and horrified. TIP: TOP vee ernest ~ = ttt pn an ptt ht WEEKLY. 25 “Why, not two hours ago I was at play with him, and I fancied he seemed better,’ he said. “Perhaps our fears may not be realized,’ came from Dick. “Let us hope for the best.” He led them back to the quietly and found Adam Blair, his wife, and Agatha house. They entered hovering over the couch on which lay the unfortunate child. One glance was enough to show that an omi- nous change had come over little Tom. He was quite still, and his thin hands lay folded upon his breast, which scarcely stirred with his breath. Agatha was kneeling by the couch, at the foot of which her mother was weeping. Adam Blair stood by, his eyes dry, but unspeakable grief on his face. The boys were outside, having thought it best to leave the sorrowing family when certain they could be of no assistance. Two of them had gone for the doctor, and they brought him speedily to the door. He came in and made a hurried examination of the child. opened his eyes. Beneath the physician’s touch little Tom “It’s the doctor, Tommy,” said Adam Blair, with a choke in his voice. “It’s the doctor, Tommy,” said the physician. “How do you feel now? Have you any pain es “Oh, no, doctor,” answered the faint voice, “not a bit. It’s the first time I really haven’t felt a bit since I was hurt. I’m much better now, doctor. I think Pll be all well to-morrow. doctor?” \ “Why, I hope you can, Tommy.” But when the doctor had said this he turned away, » gave Adam Blair a significant look, and shook his ’ head. That gesture spoke as plainly as words could speak. And now, at this juncture, Lavan Blackpool, fol- lowed by Jordan Jones and several deputies, ap- proached the house and prepared to enter. “Make quick work of it, men,” said Blackpool harshly. He led the way, entering by the open door. At the threshold of the room in which lay the little cripple. Lavan found himself face to face with Dick Merri- well. Can’t I go out to-morrow, | tae’ g | St dit 3 hae he NN ee i ca chistes oe TIP TOP “Why do you come here now?” demanded Dick, in a low tone. “This T have come to put these people ““What’s that to you?”’ was the harsh retort. i house belongs to me. . out, and out they go.” “Stop, Lavan Blackpool,” said Dick, with uplifted hand. ‘“You’re in the presence of death.” Death! There was now nothing in this world he feared as That word stopped the man in his tracks. much as death, and yet previous to the frightful ex- perience of this day he had scorned it. “Wait,” said Dick. you are, there’s another Master in this room a billion “Master of Smoktown though times more powerful.” W hy it was Lavan Blackpool could not have told, but a shudder shook his massive figure, and he seemed to grow cold in every limb. Involuntarily he stepped backward and retreated. When Jordan Jones harshly inquired why the master retreated he turned and mo- tioned for the sheriff and the deputies to leave the house. Outside the door he drew a deep breath and spoke to them. “There's “We'll put it off until to-morrow,” he said. death inside.” Little Tom had heard Dick’s voice, and the child called to him. 7 Merriwell came quickly and knelt beside the couch. “What is it, Tommy?” he asked softly. anything I can do for you?” The He says perhaps I can go out “Oh, I just want to tell you that I’m better. doctor says I’m better. to-morrow. If you play baseball to-morrow, Dick, maybe I can see the game. Oh, I like it very, very much. I wish I As two good strong legs so I could play baseball, too,” Adam Blair set his teeth and + bobbed his eyes with one hand. “But there are many other things you can do, , Tommy,” said Dick. ‘There are lots of things a boy like you can do. If I was big Where are “But I’m not very strong, you know. Fa strong, I could take care of Aggie. you, Aggie? I can’t see im now. What makes it “sodark?” “Is there | WEEKLY. She crept toward him and took one of his hands. Dick had the other. Silence fell on the room—silence save for the smoth- ered weeping of Mrs, Blair. The doctor remained near, although he knew he could do nothing. “Hark! moving a bit and seeming to be listening with great For many moments the child was still. Be still!” whispered Tommy, suddenly intenseness. “I hear voices calling me. I hear the voices of many children. They are laughing and sing- ing. There are just lots and lots and lots of them, and they’re all running and playing. I can see them now. Their faces are so bright, and they’re all in white—all in white. They are looking at me and beckoning for me to come; but I can’t run and play with them, for I have only one leg.”’ “Tommy,” said Dick, his voice soft and low and tender, “you shall run and play with them. When you join them you shall have two good strong legs : “Oh, do you think so? think so?” Do you really and truly gasped the child. “Then I’d like to go r . _ } 5 They are coming nearer, They are coming Mother, I must go with the children to play. at once. for me. They are all so happy, and now I’m happy, too. Papa, I’m going to play with the happy children. Aggie— dear sister, good-by. Dick, good-by.” With a smile on his wan, thin face, he went away to play with the happy children. THE END. The Next Number (595) Will Contain Dick Merriwell’s “Double Squeeze”’s OR, BRIAN BLACKPOOL IN COMMAND. In the Chamber—The Fear of Things Unseen--Brian Finds a Backer—Brian Takes the Helm—Triumph —A Disturbing Element—To Whom Credit is Due— The Mob—Grady’s Threat—Out of the Difficulty— __ Two to One— Working the « — > a “i Ss ~ & ab age SER ay Pier de me t ~ yet read a book that equaled dear old “Tip FF Ateneo Fe NER TOY, PE MOOR Ph TN TIP TOP certainly enjoy reading them. Of the characters I like Dick, then Frank, Sparkfair, Jones, Hodge, Buckhart, and Barl Gard- ner. In ie I like them all but Dick’s enemies, such as Ditson. I did not like Chet before, but now, since he has reformed, I am growing fond of him. Of the girls I like Doris, Madge, Mabel, and June. Permit me to thank all the “Tip or exchanged souvenir post-cards to Miss M. James. Doubtless they will be surprised when they learn I am a Chinese girl, I am Chinese, and wonder if there are many more Chinese girls enjoying “Tip Top” as much as I am. I think any girl or boy need not be ashamed to be seen with their favorite weekly with the new covers. With best wishes to Mr. Burt L. Standish, author of the great and only “Tip Top,” and Street & Smith, the publishers. Miss JAMES, We knew we could by the thousand among our readers, but never suspected we had a young lady of Chinese parentage en- joying “Tip Top.” We wish her much future pleasure in peru- sing her favorite weekly. Toppers” who in the past sent This certainly is a count American girls pleasant surprise. (A letter from Long Island.) - My two sisters, Dorothy and Katherine, have been reading “Tip Top” for the past two years and have not missed a number. When we are all home together we gather around grandfather, who reads aloud to us. At the end of each story grandmother points out the moral, and tells us in what way we should en- -deavor to imitate the characters. Our little brother, Jakey, is not yet old enough to understand and appreciate “Tip Top,” but I, as his elder, am trying to bring him up so that his first reading will be my file of “Tip Tops.” A long life to you, dear “Tip Top,” and three loud hurrahs for Burt L. and Street & Smith. With respects and regards from grandma and grandpa, your ardent admirer, WittiAM. S, VANDERBILT. Glad to hear from our young friends who bear such a well- known name, and we trust “Tip Top” will continue ever to be your most welcome weekly guest. (A letter from Canada.) As I have never written to the Applause column before, I think it is about time I should, i have read several weeklies, but “Tip Top” certainly “tops” them all. J think Dick is just it. Frank is also very interesting. I don’t think Chet Arlington will turn out to be anything, as he is continually going to the bad after reforming. I am trying to get others to read the “Tip Top Weekly,” and those I have succeeded in getting like it very much. Well, I hope to see this in print, as it will be the first I have seen from Manitoba. I will close, with three cheers for Burt L, and Street & Smith, May the “Tip Top” continue to prosper. A Canadian. Norman McLeop. ° ‘We can hardly blame you for feeling discouraged about Chet, but remember what a fierce battle he has to fight, with himself as his worst enemy, and give him a helping hand if you can. \ ? (A letter from Mississippi.) Having read your famous weekly, dear old “Tip Top” for sev- eral years, I decided to write and express my humble opinion of your popular magazine. Its name is all right, but really it is more than the name implies. I have read books by all popular authors, and a great many standard works, but I have never Top.” It is intensely interesting and absorbing. ‘ ‘Beyond all question Mr. Burt L. Standish is the best and most interesting writer of boy’s literature. I say “boys,” but I know a great many girls and men and married women who read “Tip Top.” Mr. Standish portrays the best characters, and his charac- ters are truer to life than those of any author I have ever read. Who could portray a more natural character than Chester ‘Arlington. Surely nothing could be truer to life. good, loyal Frank; next is dear old Dick; fiery Bart; then faithful old Brad. My favorite is” then comes faithful, Of the girls, I like sweet little June the best, and hope Dick | a “ae her. But I think we spould leave ee to Mr. eee WEEKLY. those by Burt L. Standish in “Tip Top Weekly.” 29 as he knows best. I have just read Ne. 579 and it is fine. 1 have also just read No. 380. It is still better, if that be possible. Mike Lynch is a good character, although he is very peculiar. I will be glad to hear more of Frank, Bart, Ephriam, Barney, and the rest of them; would also like to hear more of Chet and Dale Sparkfair. I would like to say that I have done all I could for dear old “Tip Top,” and have induced at least ten or twelve: people to read it. I would extol the virtues of “Tip Top” and then loan them a few copies to read, and every one is now a regular reader. I have even started one married man and one married lady to reading it. I sell “Tip: Top’ here, and I sell six or eight “Tip Tops’ to one of the others. I certainly intend to do all I can to get others to taking “Tip Top,” so they, too, will enjoy good reading. Besides, I feel that we owe it to Messrs. Street & Smith and Mr. Standish to do all we can to increase the circulation of “Tip Top.” Surely the people who supply us with such good reading are deserving of at least that much. It is a genuine pleasure for me to get a new reader, as I know he will appreciate my efforts. The new cover is a great improvement. O. L. Parker. Here is a rock-ribbed Gibraltar among “Tip Top’s” who cannot do too much to prove his appreciation. Such pleas- ant letters do much to relieve the monotony of an editor’s daily work, and bring a ray of sunshine into the office. We have gladly placed the name of this valued friend where it belongs— among those we delight to honor. friends, I have read your famous “king of weeklies” think it can’t be beat. I have read another found it to be a big imitation a “Tip Top.” good characters, but can’t bea mind, is a real hero. A boy eh fights liquor and tobacco is a hero. It looks as if he is winning out. How’s. Frank, Jr., getting along? Where are Dunnerwurst, — Mulloy, Starbright, and the others? Have got one boy to read > “Tip Top,” but that boy before he read it was-a loafer of the first degree. Now he is a steady fellow. Hope Dick marries June, and Brad Mabel. Can you tell me, for curiosity’s sake, the ages of Dick, Frank, June, and Inza? Hoping Burt never quits writing “Tip Top,’ I remain, yours respectfully, or, as Captain Wiley used to say, Yours in gloom and suspenders, Henry KURANER. New: York. We would not be so cruel as to tell the ages of our epee You can figure that out for yourself. The characters you men- tion will possibly appear again ere long. ‘fora year, and weekly also, and Frank and Dick are Chet Arlington. He, to my I have been reading “Tip Top” for five years. T read many ~ other publications, but never one like “Tip Top close by say-— ing long life to Street & Smith and long life e Burt L. Standish and all “Tip Top” readers. W. Ketry. Brooklyn, N. Y. That is very nice of you. ment, Be sure we appreciate the compli- I have read many books and magazines, but have yet to find a story or series of stories as interesting and as instructive as — Nine years - ago I read my first copy and was enthusiastic over it, and now © that I am older and can understand the great good it has. done : ie millions of boys. who have unconsciously. imitated Frank Merriwell, I cannot say enough in praise of it. 5 | There is not one acquaintance of mine to whom I have not — said so much in praise of “Tip Top” .but that he has tried a — copy and become a loyal reader. I am grateful for the good — influence “Tip Top” has exercised over me, and am trying to. “be happy by making others -MapDy. Ever an admirer, New Yorke Citys. F. M. Atren, We regret that our rules will not allow us to comply with the — request this valued correspondent gives in another part of his letter, as we would like to oblige so earnest a friend of. “Tip Top.” We have taken a liberty with his name tg we trust will: aie: him ‘It adorns our as Roll. EDITED BY Pror. Fourmen;: About four months ago I was eating a hard piece of rye bread, and at the same time was playing with my brother. In turning my head quick I caused my jaw to get caught. I became very excited, and fell into a fit. Do you think that would cause a fit, or was it an epileptic fit? I have been worried ever since, for fear of getting another. Washington, D. C. ROBERT SUMNERS. Consult your family physician and have ough examination. him give you a thor- (A letter from Rhode Island.) Pror. Fourmen: Being a reader of “Tip Top,” liberty to ask what exercises will make me stronger. I have a punching-bag, but do not use it. My measurements are: Age, 13 years; weight, 106 pounds; neck, 11% inches; waist, 28 inches; biceps, normal, 9% inches; expanded, 10%4 inches; thigh, 17% inches; calf, 12 inches. A Tip Yop ENTHUSIAST. I take the When your wrist gets stronger use your punching bag. (A letter from New York.) Pror. FourMEN: Being a constant reader of “Tip Top,” I take the liberty of consulting te about my measurements: Age, 13 years; weight, 80 pounds; chest, normal, 27 inches; expanded, 29 inches. I drink tea. and coffee. I smoke cigarettes and inhale the smoke. I have smoked for the past four years. Height, 4 feet 9 inches. I am learning to be a baseball pitcher. Frep Cooper. Your smoking cigarettes is a shameful admission of a lung- destroying practise. If you want to avoid an early grave stop using them at once. (A letter from Oregon.) Pror. FourMEN: I have been reading the “Tip Top” for four years, and not seeing any letter from this part of the State, I thought I would write. I think the “Tip Top” is the best weekly have ever read. I can hardly wait until it comes. ‘I am 17 years old and weigh 136 pounds; height, 5 feet 314 inches; neck, 14 inches; waist, 30 inches; thigh, 18 inches; calf, 12 inches; biceps, normal, 10 inches; expanded, 12 inches; chest, normal, 30 inches; expanded, 31 inches. I play baseball when I am in school, but I quit school and went to work three months ago. I smoke some. I would like to know how to grow a little taller. I would like to know how to make myself stronger. I walk eight miles into town on every Saturday and back on Sun- day. Is that good exercise for the lower limbs? A Roya Trp Topper. Walking is one of the best exercises known. Give up smoking. You cannot grow taller by artificial means. Regular exercise with dumb-bells and Indian clubs will make you stronger. (A letter from Minnesota.) Pror. FourMEN: Being an admirer of “Tip Top” and an ath- letic enthusiast, 1 would like to send my measurements and ask a few questions. Age, 20 years; height, 5 feet 5 inches; weight, arr PROF. FOURMEN neck, 13 inches; chest, contracted, 31 inches; normal, 33 inches; expanded, 35 inches; biceps, 10 inches; waist, 28 inches; forearms, 10 inches; thighs, 20 inches; calves, 14 inches. I love athletics, and would like to take up a regular course of training, but find it extremely difficult to do, as there are so many things to interfere. I have a horizontal-bar, punching-bag, boxing-gloves, Whitely exerciser, 2-pound dumb-bells and 2- pound Indian clubs. Please name a few tests of fine physical condition. Which would be better: To have a 40-inch chest that could be expanded two inches, or a 38-inch one that could be expanded 4 inches? One Wuo Hopes to BecoME AN ATHLETE. You could develop into an athlete if you took a regular course of training and stuck to it. You are on the right track, only do not relax your efforts. If your appetite is good and you feel all right, do not worry about your condition. A person having a small chest expansion might be better off than one having a larger chest. 130. pounds; Pror. FourmMEN: As a reader of “Tip Top,” I take the liberty of asking you a few questions. I am 16 years old and only 4 feet 9% inches high, and weigh 85 pounds. I drink a great deal of tea, but never smoke nor drink. My father is not very tall, but my mother and brother and sister are. Do you think that tea would hinder my growth? Joun S. Norris. Chicago, Ill. Join a Y. M. C. A. gymnasium and take regular exercise. Pror. FourMEN: I am 13 years old, 4 feet 7 inches in height; weight, 75 pounds; neck, 1114 inches; calves, 10 inches; biceps, 714-814 inches; chest, 27-29 inches; waist, 2714 inches; thighs, 16 inches. What shall I do to bec ome taller and heavier? Tacoma, Wash. Ai Tip: Lorrie, G. Bs G: You cannot do anything ‘to become taller, though by proper exercise you can increase your weight. These are my measurements: Age, 14 years; height, 5 feet 9 inches; weight, 127 pounds; calves, 14 inches; chest, normal, 30 inches; expanded, 34 inches; neck, £3 inches. How are these measurements tor a boy of my age, and if not good, how could I better them? A Wovutp-Be ATHLETE. Alton, Ill. Your measurements are very good for a boy of your age, but you should use Indian clubs and dumb-bells to increase the size of your biceps. ; Pror. FourMEN: Pror. FourMEN: Being a constant reader of “Tip Top,” and interested in your department, I send you a few measurements, and ask your general ee of my physique: Age, 22 years; height, 5 feet 8% inches; waist, 34 inches; chest, normal, 33 inches; expanded, 37 inches; neck, 14% inches. I am a florist and am out in all kinds of weather and do a great deal of walking. Is too much walking injurious? If I go too fast, I have a pain on the left side, near the heart. What causes that? TIP I smoke a good deal, but do not smoke on the street. Am very fond of candy, and am seldom without it.. I enjoy outdoor exer- cise, and do some every day. I sleen with the window open all the year round. A YounG Frorisv. Chicago, Ill. Very few people do too much walking. the pain which troubles you' when you walk will disappear, not eat too much candy. Give up smoking and Do (A letter from Ontario. ) JIRMEN: Being a great admirer as well as reader of the “Tip Top,” I take the liberty of asking a few questions and also of sending my measurements. My measurements when stripped are: Weight, 95 pounds; height, 5 feet 1 inch; chest, normal, 28 inches; expanded, 30 inches; contracted, 2614 inches; neck, 12% inches; waist, 25% inches; calf; 1114 inches; thigh, 17 inches; wrist, 6 inches; forearm, 814 inches; biceps, normal, 84 inches; expanded, 934 inches, 1 am 14 years, 8 months old. A Wovutp-BeE ATHLETE. Pror, Fot Take a course of exercise in a gymnasium. ' (A letter from Virginia.) Pror. FourMEN: Having been a reader of “Tip Top” for a long time, I take the liberty of sending you my measurements: Age, 17 years; weight, 140 pounds; height, 5 feet 8% inches; waist, 29!%4 inches; chest, normal, 32% inches; expanded, 30 inches; calf, 14 inches; biceps, 10 inches; neck, 13% inches; thigh, 20 inches. How are my measurements? A Vircinia ADMIRER, Join a gymnasium and exercise regularly on the flying-rings and the horizontal-bar. (A letter from Indian Territory.) Pror. FourMEN: As I am a Tip Topper, I take the liberty of asking you a few questions. My meas surements are as follows: Age, 11 years; height, 4 feet 10 inches: weight, 77 pounds; neck, Il inches; waist, 24 inches; biceps, normal, 7 inches; expanded, 734 inches; thigh, 15% inches : ealf, 111%4 inches; chest, normal, 25 inches; expanded, 27 inches. 1. What kind of exercise will relieve me of a sunken chest? 2. What kind of exercise do I need to develop my muscles and build me up? ‘ Yours AS A Tip Topper. t, Deep breathing. 2. A general course of athletic work. (A letter from Virginia.) Pror, Fourmen: As I am a reader of “Tip Top,” I will take the liberty to ask you a few questions. My age is 13 years’ 4 months; weight, 83 pounds; height, 4 feet 9% inches; forearm, 8 2-3 inches ; wrist, 514 inches ; biceps, 8 raedaa ; waist, 28 inches; ankles, 8 inches; neck 11% ‘inches ; thighs, 17 inches; calves, 11% inches. How do I compare with other boys of my age? How can I strengthen my wrists? I am going to commence TOP WEEKLY. 31 exercising with I-pound dumb-bells. Is that the rig..: size? I play tennis and go horseback riding most every day. Is that good? I also indulge in all the other outdoor sports I can, such as baseball, football, ice hockey, swimming, and jumping. A Virornta Lap. You compare favorably with other boys your age. Keep up the exercises and sports you are now indulging in. Pror. Fourmen: I am 15 years old; height, 5 feet 4 inches; neck, 14 inches; chest, normal, 34 inches; ; expanded, 36 inches : waist, 3114 inches; forearm, 10% inches ; calves, 14 inches; biceps, normal, 10 inches; expanded, 11% inches; weight, 125 ‘pounds. [ am bothered with catarrh. In what athletic sports would I be good, A ScHoo.zoy. Lima, Ohio. Snuff cold water three times a day for catarrh. or standing broad jumping. Try running Pror. FourmMEN: I have read “Tip Top” for a number of years, and take the liberty to ask a few questions. I am eighteer years old, Height, 5 feet 734 inches; weight, 154 pounds; neck, 15 inches; chest, 36 inches; expanded, 39 inches; forearm, 11% inches; biceps, 11 inches; expanded, 13 inches; thigh, 20 inches; calf, 1414 inches; waist, 29% inches. My right wrist is weak. How can I strengthen it? M. J.B. Jackson, Mich. Get one of A. G. Spalding & C night and morning. o.’s wrist machines and use it Pror. FourmMEN: Below are my measurements: Weight, 102 pounds ; age, 12 years; height 5 feet; chest, 31 inches; expanded, 33% inches; neck, I2 inches; ” biceps, 914 inches; expanded, Io wrist, 614 13 inches, inches; waist, 30 inches; Are my measurements GEORGE B inches ; forearm, 9% inches; thighs, 17%4 inches; calves, good? Los Angeles, Cal. Your measurements are very good for one of your age and build. (A letter from California.) Pror. FourMEN: Having been a regular reader of “Tip Top” for about two years, I will be bold to ask you some questions and advice. I am night bell-boy in a hotel and don’t'get much exercise. .I am sixteen years of age; my height, 5 feet 9 inches; weight, 142 pounds. My measurements are: Neck, 13%4 inches; chest, normal, 32 inches; expanded, 3614 inches ; waist, 32 inches; biceps, normal, 1014 inches; expanded, 12% inches; forearm, 9 inches; wrists, 6% inches ; thighs, 2t inches; calves, 13 inches. What is the best exercise I can take to keep my health and strength and to make me long-winded? Mr. Trp Topper, Jr. Get up half an hour earlier and use dumb-bells, Follow your exercises with a sponge-bath. - games, will be declared the winners, N. J., and the ‘‘Athletes” cap. Is this not worth working for, boys? DON’T FAIL TO SEND IN YOUR COUPON AT ONCE. 4 Les No notice taken of any score not entered ona coupon, Coupons must Pi be properly made out. One coupon for each game. Tip Top Baseball Tournameni Is Now Open. The two teams which, at the end of the season, have the 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 declared the Tip Top Championship Team of the All-American Re reir Baseball Tournament for 1907, and will receive a handsome pennant bearing an Ae en ik gee appropriate device. The two successful clubs in 1906 were the ‘‘Unions” of Hawthorne, of Circleville, O. Each winning team will receive a full equipment for nine members, consisting of trousers, shirt, stockings, shoes and 4 ‘ Mf 3 / - a a cer . "i a f “ee f p ? . Ps Ag Ms “s Be VIEL G * ae Sean Te = Sa ee ee Ee re ee Te: — ao m f° THE TIP ISSUED EVERY FRIDAY HANDSOME COLORED COVERS Never has Burt L. Standish written such interesting tales of the adventures of the Merriwell brothers, Frank and Dick, as are now appear- ing in this weekly. Mr. Standish has a world-wide circle of friends and 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 EE URPICATS HERE ARE THE 561—Dick Merriwell in the Tank; or, Rushing the Regu- lars at Water Polo. 562—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 Horse; or, The Boy Who Would Be Bad. 566—Frank Merriwell’s Intrusion; or, Warner, the Man Who Won. 567—Frank Merriwell’s Bluff; or, The Lost Sefiorita of Sonora, —568—Dick Merriwell’s Regret; or, The Friend He Never Knew, , 569—Dick Merriwell’s Silent Work; or, A Helping Hand for a Foe. - §70—Dick Merriwell’s Arm; or, The Trick that Fooled the Tricksters. 571—Dick Merriwell’s Skill; or, The Prince of the Pistol. §72—Dick Merriwell’s Magnetism; or, The Curing of a Cad. . 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. '$77—Dick Merriwell’s Backers; or, The Man Behind the Bat. ; If you want any back numbers of this publication and cannot procure them from your news- LATEST TITLES: 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; Hard Proposition. . | 582—Dick Merriwell’s Respite; or, The Campers of Lake Calmface. or, Up Against a 583—Dick Merriwell’s Disadvantage; or, The First Game ie 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, Blotter. 587—Dick Merriwell, Lion-Tamer; or, Ate, Queen of the Air. 588—Dick Merriwell’s Camp-site; or, The Peril at Pin Point. 589—Dick Merriwell’s Debt; or, Settling the Score With Smoketown. 590—Dick Merriwell’s Camp-mates; or, Old Chums On the Field. 5901—Dick Merriwell’s Draw; or, The Struggle With Smoketown. 592—Dick Merriwell’s Disapproval; or, Chester Arling- ton’s New Chum. 503—Dick Merriwell’s Mastery; or, The Wolves of Wolfwoods, Betrayed by a dealer, they can be obtained from this office direct. Postage stamps taken the same as money. § boat? STREET & SMITH, Publishers, 79 Seventh Avenue, NEW YORK CITY. a lass atth it aa lea aie rn ae eee either 1a How the Early Numbers of the TIP TOP WEEKLY May Be Secured O the boys who take interest in the adventures of Frank Merriwell and want to read everything that was written about him, we desire to say that numbers 1 to 325 of the TIP TOP WEEKLY containing his early adventures are entirely out of stock and will not be reprinted. with No. 150 which is entitled ‘‘Frank Merriwell’s Schooldays. These numbers, however, were published in the Medal Library beginning 9) We give herewith a com- plete list of all the Merriwell stories that have been published in book form up to the time of writing. We will send a compete 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 AT 10c. 150—Frank 167—Frank 178—Frank 184—Frank 189—F rank 193—Frank 197—F rank 201—F rank 205—F rank 209—F rank 213—Frank 217—Frank 225—Frank 229—F rank 233—Frank 237—Frank 240— Frank 244—Frank 247—Frank 251—F rank 254—F rank 258—Frank 262—F rank 267—F rank 271—F rank 276—Frank 280—F rank 284—F rank 288— Frank 292—F rank 296—F rank 300—F rank 304—F rank 308— Frank 312—Frank 316—Frank 320—Frank 324—Frank 328— Frank 332—Frank 336—Frank 340—Frank 344—Frank 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. Merriwell’s Own Company. Merriwell’s Fame. Merriwell’s College Chums. Merriwell’s Problem. Merriwell’s Fortune. Merriwell’s New Comedian. Merriwell’s Prosperity. Merriwell’s Stage Hit. Merriwell’s Great Scheme. Merriwell in England. Merriwell on the Boulevards. MEDAL LIBRARY AT 10c. 348—Frank Merriwell’s Duel. 352—Frank Merriwell’s Double Shot. 350—F rank Merriwell’s Baseball Victories. 359—F rank Merriwell’s Confidence. 362—Frank Merriwell’s Auto. 365—Frank Merriwell’s Fun. 368—F rank Merriwell’s Generosity. 371—F rank Merriwell’s Tricks. 374—F rank Merriwell’s Temptation. 377—F rank Merriwell on Top. NEW MEDAL LIBRARY AT l15c. 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. 401—Frank Merriwell in Kentucky. 404—Frank Merriwell’s Power. 407—Frank Merriwell’s Shrewdness. 410—Frank Merriwell’s Set-back. 413—Frank Merriwell’s Search. 416—Frank Merriwell’s Club. 419—Frank Merriwell’s Trust. 422—Frank Merriwell’s False Friend. Published About August 19th 25—Frank Merriwell’s Strong Arm. Published About September 9th 428—Frank Merriwell as Coach. Published About September 30th 431—Frank Merriwell’s Brother. Published About October 21st 434—Frank Merriwell’s Marvel. Published About November 11th 437—Frank Merriwell’s Support. Published About December 2nd 440—Dick Merriwell at Fardale. Published About December 23rd 443—Dick Merriwell’s glory. STREET & SMITH, Publishers, New York City