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issued Weekly.

By subscription $2.50 per year. Entered as Second-class Matter at the N. Y. Post Office, by STREET & SMITH, 79-89 Seventh Avenue,
N.Y. Entered according to Act of Congress in the year 1907, in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, Washington, D.C.

 

No. 590.

NEW YORK, August 3, 1907.

Price Five Cents,

“

DICK MERRIWELL’S CAMPMATES:

. OR,

Old Chums On the Field.

By BURT L. STANDISH.

 

CHAPTER I.
THE RESCUERS.

The moon had not yet risen, and the shadows lay
thick and heavy over the harbor and water-front of
Smoketown. Clinging to a slimy spile in the black
darkness beneath the Eastern Maine Steamship Pier,
Gideon Hammerhead, of Lobsterville, listened to the
words of the youths who had baffled him in his attempt
to carry away Agatha Blair by main force and after-
ward compel her to marry him.. In that party were

Dick Merriwell and his chums, Buckhart and Steele,
together with Brian Blackpool and several of his

Smoketown friends. Gid grated his teeth as he heard

their words, but the swish and gurgle of the water
prevented the sound from reaching the ears of one
‘ chap who, at the edge of the float near the spiles, was
"peering beneath the wharf. !
“Can you see anything with those owlish eyes of
yours, Goggles?” asked the voice of Blackpool.

“Not a thing ’cept the spilin’, Brian,”

answered the.

a

chap who was looking under the wharf. “I guess Gid
Hammerhead is a goner. I guess he’s drowned sure.”

“Well, he ought to be, the cur!’ exclaimed young
Blackpool. “Think of his trying to carry Agatha off
in such a manner. I felt like finishing him when |
grappled with him.”

“My starth!” lisped Foss Dilltwitter. “You ther-

tainly came near being dwowned yourthelf, Bwian. © :

Goodneth gwaciouth, you’re thoaking wet!
thpoiled that handthome thuit of clotheth.” .
“Never mind the clothes as long as Agatha’s safe,”
returned Brian. “Merriwell, I want to thank you for -
the prompt manner in which you took a hand in this —
business. Even after I went into the drink with
Hammerhead I was fearful that the others would get —
away with Agatha. That made me desperate, and
I did my best to break the ruffian’ s hold on me while
we were under the surface.”
“You sure succeeded in that, all right,” chuckled
Brad Buckhart. “We pulled you out as soon as you
bobbed up like a cork, but it seems that the galoot

You’ve ©

 
    
         
      
  
 
 
   
    
  
 
 
   
   
  
        
        
       
     
         
           
   
    
         
        
    
     
   
    
    
     

from Lobsterville must have sunk to the bottom like a
stone.”
“That’s. where you fool yourself,” thought the fel-
low who was clinging to the slimy spile. “The galoot
from Lobsterville is all right, and he’ll find time
to settle with you chaps same as the men from Lob-
sterville settled with Smoketown to-day. The Ham-
merheads always pay their debts.”’
There was a peculiar sound on the wharf, a child-

ish voice, choked with fear, crying the name of Agatha

Blair.
“Agatha! Agatha!
voice,
The cries of her crippled brother seemed to arouse
_ the girl, who had fainted when snatched from her
: captors by Dick Merriwell.
Be; “Tommy,” she answered; “Tommy, here I am.”
Brad Buckhart bounded up the steps, caught the
‘little fellow in his arms, and brought him down to
the float, crutch and all. |
Bi “I’m all right, Tommy,” said Agatha, as she felt
~ he brother’s quivering arms about\her neck.
_. ‘With the full realization that she was there and
quite safe, he wilted limply, as she had a short time
before. —

Sister! sister!’ screamed. the

that crutch?” muttered Casper Steele. “It’s quite a
distance from the main street, one it doesn’ t seem as if
he could have made it so soon.” Ca

~ But in his despair and terror the boy had actually
made the distance in that time, hobbling on his crutch.
 “S’pose we oughter stay around and look for Ham-
-merhead any longer, Brian?” questioned Reddy Per-
kins.
“Naw!” cried Mike McTeague, with a laugh.

“him go ter feed der fishes.”

“Oh, don’t let him drown if you can help him,”

2 ‘murmured Agatha, pleadingly.,

* “Have you fergut as quick as this w’at he was tryin’
to do?” asked the Smoketown Terror wonderingly.
“There ain’t ho reason why you atone care if he was
drowned, Miss Blair.” :

. “He's a human being,” she said,
though he may be, we must not forget that. Besides,
he is not the worst person in the world: He came to
me to-day wad asked me in an honorable manner to

Let

  

 
 

  

 
 

es fisherman ” scoffed Brian ey “Why,

   

     

TIP ePOPr: WEEKLY:

tended,” she retorted.

“How in the world did he get here so quickly on

can get home very well.

‘aed and brated

_ for it if I were in your plathe. —

: “Marry bie? Macey that aitiewste, fetoennt thick- :

“His proposal was honestly made. and honsetly in- |

 

Although she said no more, young Blackpool felt
the scornful rebuke in her words and remembered he
had that day forced his undesired attentions upon her.
That very day Brian had volunteered to secure for her
a position in his father’s office, where she would have
little to do, although she was to receive good pay.
In this proposal there had been an insult too plainly
implied for her to misunderstand. In the past she —
had feared Brian, but now she feared him still. more
intensely. Still, she was aware that in his effort to
save her he had risked his life by furiously attacking
Gideon Hammerhead... She knew that, at. least, she
owed him thanks for this.

“Oh, I cannot say what I would say to you all,”
she faltered. “I’m stronger now. I'll go home at
once, for they will worry about me unless I return very
soon.”

“Yes, let’s go, Aggie—let’s go,” urged little Tom,
recovering his strength and speech and seizing his
crutch. “I nearly died from fright, sister. I’m all
shaky and cold now.”
“Poor little Tom!” she whispered, as she embraced
him and gave him a kiss. | |
“You're trembling, too, sister, but I knew Dick
would save you when I found him and told him—I
knew it.” | oa au

“Such confidence, Tom, is enough to inspire a fel- —
low to do almost anything,” said Merriwell, Dae

“Tl see you safe to your home, Agatha,”
Brian.

But she shrank from him, betraying the aversion i
found it impossible to oneEAL :
“Thank you, thank you,” she said. “I’m sure we
We had rather go alone.”
“We don’t have to go alone,” put in the cripple.
“Dick will go with us, won’t you, Dick?” us
“My friends will —

99

proposed a

“Sure, Tommy said Merriwell.
come along, too.” | |

They helped the brother and sister up the steps to. ve .
the pier. Brian Blackpool followed slowly. Dilltwit-
ter gave him a nudge and whispered in his ear,

“Gwathuth thaketh, Bwian, are you going to let that ;
fellow cut you out with the’girl? I wouldn’t thtand —
By thmoke! I’d show ©
him ‘he couldn’t come here and cut me out.” ge

“Close your face, Foss,” commanded the magnate’ Sy
son, in a low tone. “You're always butting in with ©
unasked advice. The girl is all broken up,. She
doesn’t know her own mind to-night.” _ a
    

  
 

Reddy Perkins, Goggles <— and. Mike Mc-
Teague lingered behind.
“Td like to know w’at’s der matter wit’ Bri’?”

growled the Terror. “Never see him knuckle to no-
t body before this. Wonder if he had der sand taken
a outer him w’en dat bloke t’rowed him inter der drink
der udder day.”

McTeague was referring to Blackpool’s encounter
| with Merriwell, on which occasion Dick had given the
Wl fellow the “flying mare” and sent him spinning off the
wharf into the water.

“Fle seemed to have nerve enough left to go up
against Gid Hammerhead,” growled Reddy Perkins,
7 “and I guess Gid was a worse case to tackle than
x Merriweil!”’

“Guess again,” invited McTeague scornfully. “Dat
fellow Merriwell swings an awful wallop. Don’t I
know it? Didn’t he soak me one?”

Goggles Grady latighed in his throat.

“I ain’t seen you hurrying to bump up against him
‘since then, Mike,” he said.

a “You aint seen me because I’ve had orders from
4 Brian, but you wait till the signs come right and
you'll see me soak him good and hard. I ain’t fergut.
A I ain’t the kind that fergits. Not much.” :
ot _ “Wonder if Hammerhead was drownded?” specu-
¥ lated Perkins, as he lighted his pipe.

i The blaze of the match threw a glow upon the
faces of the trio, who were distinctly seen by the chap
ie who clung to the spile beneath the pier.

, “T’m willin’ you should believe me drownded,”
thought Gid. “Why don’t you trot along after the
rest of the crowd? I’m gittin’ tired of hangin’ here.”

 

 

 

After a time they did “trot along,” and when their
footsteps had died out upon the wharf Hammerhead
struck out for the float, upon which he crawled.

 

ae “So them strangers we see in town to-day turned

in to help Brian Blackpool, did they?” muttered the
fellow from Lobsterville, wringing some of the water
from his clothes. “They put their noses inter what

_warn’t none of their business.
of ’em the fust time I see’’em. They’re too high-
headed and stylish to suit me. Goin’ to camp on Pine
Point, be they? Well, mebbe they be and mebbe
they ben’t. Wonder how I’m goin’ to git to Lobster-
ville to-night. Drat them fools, what made ‘em row
off and leave me? 1 s’pose they're gone. The
cowards! I'll have somethin’ to tell ’em/the next time

/T see ’em!” } ‘J

- But, as he sat there growling and grumbling to him-

 

  

Tiv- TOP

I didn’t like the looks |

self, a black hulk came creeping softly toward the

 

   

WEEKLY. 3

    

      

wharf. His keen ears caught the faint sound of
muffled oars.
“Them’s the fellers,” he thought, with a feeling
of satisfaction. “They’ve come back to look for me.”
Pursing his lips, he whistled softly in a significant

 
     
   
  
   
   
  
  
  
  
   
    
  
     
  
   
   
  
 
   
 
 
 
 
   
    
    
  
  
  
 

manner.

Almost immediately there was an answering whistle
from the black hulk, which was immediately headed
toward the float.

CHAPTER II.
THE WHISTLING HATCHET.

“Hey, Gid!”’ came the call from the boat.
“Aw, pull in here!’ growled Hammerhead, in an

ugly manner. “What in blazes made you fellers
sneak ?”

There were three of them in the boat that swung
alongside the float.

“They was too much for us,” announced the fellow
in the stern, who had a hoarse, husky, buzzing voice,
which peculiarity had given him the name of “Buzz-
saw.”

“Too many for ye?” snarled -Gid.
wait to see what had become of me?
to let that gang finish me?”

“Course not, Gid,” protested one of the oarsmen.
“Ain’t we back here to stand by ye?”

“Stand by me?’ sneered Hammerhead. “That’s
nice talk to be makin’, Lije Hooker! I don’t need
nobody to stand by me now. Why didn’t ye stand by
me when I did need ye?”

“What could we do?” protested the other oarsman.
“They rushed on us sudden, and one of ’em grabbed
you, and off you both went inter the drink. The
gal——” <

“Why didn’t you hang to her, Crab Clark?” de-
manded Gid furiously. “What made you let ‘em get _
her away from ye?” San Ss

“She squirmed right out of my grip,’ declared
Buzzsaw. ‘She was slippery as an eel.” Cae

“We thougtit the hull blamed town was comin’ —
down on us,” asserted Crab Clark. hey kept comin’
and comin’.”

“That’s right,” put in Lije Hooker.
did we have against so many?”

Hammerhead stepped into the boat and found : a
seat.

“Push off,” he ordered ; “push off, you chumps! I
picked you fellers out to help me because I thought |
you had sand enough to stick by me. I promised tor

“Why didn’t ye
Was ye goin’

    
     
     
         
     
     
     
 

“What pace

    
       
     
     

          
     
  

  
  

   

   
   
   
  
 
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
   
     
  
   
  
  
   
   
 
     
  
   
    
   
  
   
   
 
   
   
    
  

the gal. You can whistle for anything you git now.”
“Well, we done our best,” said Hooker, in sullen
resentment. “We know what sort of a promise you
made, and as long as we didn’t carry off the gal we
ain’t askin’ nothin’ of ye, be we, felers?””’
“Sure not,”’ buzzed Sloat.
“Not this time,”’
. us ag’in. You know who your friends be, Gid.
we allus stood by ye?”

said Clark, “but mebbe you’ll need
Ain’t

This was spoken in a pacifying manner, but young
Hammerhead seemed in a mood not easily soothed.

“You've stood by me when it’s been to your advant-
age. Don't put that up to me. I guess I’ve done you
fellers as many favors as you've ever done me. Be-
sides that, you know it wouldn’t be healthy for ye to

play a dirty trick on Gideon Hammerhead. Oh, I was
theditatin’ on what you'd git the next time I met ye
when I thought you'd sneaked and left me here, If
you had done that, I swan I'd walloped the hull three
of ye!. And I can do it, too!’ he finished fiercely.
“Oh, we don’t want no trouble with you, Gid,”
tested Sloat huskily.
over it?”
“What's the use? W hy, blame it all, ain’t I showed
_. myself up to-day? Ain't I fixed it so I won't dast
poke my gills into Smoketown ag’in unless the hull
of Lobsterville comes over, same as they did this
arternoon? [ s’pose they'll swear out a warrant for
me | ‘and give it to old Jones to serve. Well, mebbe
he’d better come over to L -obsterville to serve his war-
rant. If he does, I can guess what will happen to
eo a”

pro-
“What's the use to be so sore

Pia) «At this Hammerhead’s. companions chuckled as figs
there was sotnething highly amusing about, the sug-
~ gestion that the sheriff of the county would venture
ap into Lobsterville for the purpose of making an arrest.

i “y don’t think you need to w orry any about that,
_ Gid,” said Lije Hooker. “We ain’t seen Jordan Jones
_ pinch nobody in Lobsterville since he took office. He’s.
made efforts once or twicet, but it was all bluff. He
_ threatened to take Abner Sooper for cutting loose Bob
Haynes’ traps, but the hull of Lobsterville stood behind
‘Sooper. Haynes was an outsider and had no busi-
ness planting his traps east of Squaw Ledge. He was
lucky to get off with the loss of them traps, for there
has been lobstermen that didn’t belong our: way who
came nee in and lost their bo" ts and their hull out-

~ 39

   
 

   
 

 

  

TIP. TOR WEEKLY,

pay ye well if we done the trick and gut away with

Point,”

once set about getting up anchor and hoisting sail.

 

arter he disappeared, where the tide had left him high
and dry on the shore of Burnt Island,” said Clark.

Hammerhead: was paying very little attention to
their words, his mind being occupied with the thoughts
of revenge upon the fellows who had baffled him in
his desperate attempt to abduct Agatha Blair,

“Did you fellers see them three summer chaps in .
Smoketown to-day ?”’ he asked.

“I guess we did,” answered Sloat, at once.
partic’lar notice of ’em.
"em.

 

“I took .
T axed some questions “bout © |
‘She is |. @
lyin’ over yonder. You can see her lights.” i

“TI wonder how many men she has aboard?” mut-
tered Hammerhead.

“Three or four at least,”’
you thinking about ?”

Their yacht is here in the harbor now.

said Clark. ‘‘What was

:
I'd like to board her and run her

“T was thinkin’
off.”
“Jerusalem!” gurgled Lije Hooker. “Don’t try
that, Gid. What do we know ’bout runnin’ a steam-.
yacht? If we should capture her, we wouldn’t be apt
to git out of the harbor with her. We might put her
plunk onto the outside ledges.” . i,
“Well, what if we did?” growled Gid. “That would = |
bea good joke on them fresh ducks. But I guess a
you're right. We hadn’t better try it.” 1
“Them summer fellers are goin’ to camp on Pine — a
said Buzzsaw. “I understand they've made = |
preparations for.a big party to camp there. They've = |
brought lumber and laid tent floors and put up |.
frames.” , as,

Ce ee ne rae

Lumber is mighty valuable just about now,” ob-  - |
served Hammerhead. “Pine Point is on otir way to-
Lobsterville. If they’ve gut any lumber that’s wuth  —
anything over there, mebbe we'd better stop and col-_ #
lect it. What do yer say, fellers?”? Tenn

All eagerness to pacify him, the trio immediately ||
agreed that this was a good plan.

 

  
 
       
 

“The moon will be up before we git to Pine Point,”
said Clark. “She’s showing in the east now.” 3
It was true that there was a faint glow in the eastern _
sky which announced the coming of the moon. Am
“All the better,” said Gid. “We'll have light enough —
to see what we’re doing.” Ge
By this time they had reached a dark, dovwelifieny cs
sailing-sloop which lay at anchor in the beet: From —
the smaller boat they climbed aboard the sloop and at —

      
     
       
       
         
    

There was a faint breeze which brought the tank
smoke of the kilns gigs ae land. At intervals along

    
  

 

$y KS te ee ee
8c Rip =

+ ~ Pat.
ee eee)

nee ee ee

ila

. Steet
a?

the shore those kilns could be seen glowing and gleam-
ing through the darkness. |
In a short time the anchor was tripped, the sail was

, set, and.they moved slowly toward the outer water.

The moon rose huge and red in the east.
Getting clear of the harbor, they found a fresh
breeze and set their course toward Pine Point.

“T don’t s’pose we'll find nobody over there to bother
us, will we?’’ muttered Lije Hooker, somewhat appre-
hensively.

“Course not,’ said Hammerhead. “Don’t be allus
figerin’ on trouble, Lije.”

Finally the wooded shore of the hooking point drew
near, and off that shore the sloop was brought up into
the wind. The sails ran down with a rattling clatter,
the anchor splashed, and the young rascals from Lob-
sterville prepared to put off to the shore with their

sthall boat, which had been towing behind by a painter.

The oars were no longer muffled, and they clanked
regularly as two of the party bent to them. It was
not long before the prow of the boat = softly

upon the sandy Reais.

“Here we are,’ said Gid, in a low tone, as he sprang
out. “Come on.”

They followed him promptly, Buzzsaw Sloat paus-
ing to make the painter fast to a projecting point of
stone, so that the tide would not carry the boat off.

The camp site chosen by Dick Merriwell was easily
found.

“We're going to have some trouble ripping up these
boards and this timber without the aid of tools, Gid,”
said Hooker, as they surveyed the work of Merriwell
and his friends. “S’pose we can do it?”

“We'll find a way,” averred Hammerhead.

“Sh!” hissed Clark, holding up a hand.

Silence fell upon them. |

“What’s the matter ?” asked Gid, after a few mo-

- ments.

oe one I heard something. ‘Listen. There it is

again.’
From the black woods stretched into the ai

floated the faint, mournful sound of a flute.

The leader of the party irate his shoulders and
laughed harshly.

“Tt’s only that crazy fool, Jasper Clifford, m he said.
"You know they say he hangs around these parts.
He’s been daffy ever since old .Lave Blackpool stole
his wife away from him. You know they pean her
dead here on the Point.” .

Hooker shivered.
“T, wonder if her ghost

}

roams, around heres he

TIP TOP WEEKLY.

‘the trunk of the very tree against which Gid leaned

- moment in their tracks, : j

- the boat as fast as his legs would carry him, and Clark

truthfully said that Gideon pee beta re- ;

  
 

whispered. “I don’t like ghosts. You know people
tell that this Point is haunted, anyhow. They say the
sperit of an old Indian chief haunts the spring here
on the Point.”’
And now there was contempt in the laugh that broke
from the lips of Gideon Hammerhead, who had leaned
one shoulder against the trunk of a tree.’

      
       
    
  
  
   
 
   
   
  
   
  
   
  
   
   
    
  
  
  
  
  
  
   
  
  
  
   
 

sand, have ye, Lije?” he
“You beKeve in ‘ghosts and all that bosh.
You're scat of your own shadder most of the time.
I'd like to
Why, if the ghost
of that old Injun chief was to show up right here now,
I’d tackle him for a wrastle.”

“You ain't gut much

sneered.

Why don’t you brace up and be a man?
see something that would scare me.

Barely were these words spoken when something
caine whistling and whizzing through the air, struck

and stuck there. ;

In spite of his boastfulness, Hammerhead jumped in —
great alarm and turned to look at the object which had
struck the tree.

It was an ordinary carpenter’s hatchet, and the blade
was buried deep in the bole of the tree.

The eyes of the quartet bulged from their heads
as they saw this. To Hooker’s agitated fancy that
hatchet was an Indian tomahawk, and it had been
thrown straight from the spirit hand of the old Indian wa
who haunted the spring. ake

“Great jumpin’ gee whiz!’’ he spluttered. “Look ’a’ _
that!:look ’a’ that! Let’s git, fellers! There’s no
knowin’ what'll come next!» Mebbe the old Injun will
punk us full of arrers.” :

Hammerhead swallowed down a lump i in his throat.

“Tnjun!” ‘he sneered. “Do you think an Injun
throwed that hatchet? Not much! I'll guarantee the ~
critter that flung it has a skin as white as yours.
There ain't no Injuns, dead or alive, in these woods.” ~

As if in angry denial of his assertion, the woods
suddenly rang with a wild, hair-lifting war-whoop.
The sound chilled their blood and froze tae for the

 
   
  

 
 

      
  

   
  

  

The next moment Lije Hooker was hooking it i

      
  

     
  

and Sloat were not slow about following, nor can it

   
 

Juctance in taking flight.

With a rattling clatter, the four iighiated: fello Ss
piled into the boat, seized the oars, and pushed off.
Not until they were boarding the sloop did they f
that they had escaped immediate and deadly dange
Even then they lost no time in iting the anchaty3 i

    
  

   
  

  
 
     
      
 

APART SN

sterville.

“But it warn’t no Injun!”’ growled Hammerhead.

He was mistaken. Behind them upon the Point a
full-blooded red man had stepped forth from the dark-
ness of the pines and now stood, with folded arms, be-
neath the tree to which the hatchet still clung, his eyes
i fastened upon the retreating sail, which could be dis-
be. tinctly seen by the light of the moon.

CHAPTER IIL
FRIENDS OR FOES?

es But the Indian was not alone. He was followed by
three palefaces, who seemed to be highly amused over
what had taken place. The Indian, tall, straight, and
finely formed, was a youth scarcely more than a boy,
and his white companions were lads somewhere near
his own age. One of them was rather handsome and
graceful, with an athletic figure. Another was tall and
thin, having long legs and arms. The third was round
and fat, with a jolly, good-natured face and a hearty
laugh that made him shake and quiver all over like a
huge mass of jelly.

“Chief,” said the good-looking chap smilingly, “you
certainly scared those fellows into fits. That toma-

_ hawk stunt of yours, after their talk about Indians
iB and ghosts, followed by your lusty war-whoop, made
them scamper in a lively manner.

“Ha! ha! ha!” laughed the tall youth. “They nearly

_ fuf-fuf-fuf-fell over themselves tut-tut-trying to get
_ to the boat.”

“Ho! ho! ho!” gurgled the fat fellow, clinging to
his sides.
would scare him, but, by Jim, I noticed he ran as fast
as the rest after he got started. Ho! ho! ho!”

<a,

ee “> a ees

 

 

4
es
oe,
#

“Now what are we going to do?” said ‘the first
speaker. “Here we are on an unfriendly shore. Here
- we expected to be received with open arms and en-
_ tertained, but we find nothing save a deserted camp
- site.” ig
~~ “Not even a ham sus-sus-sus-satidwich,’ i chattered
the tall lad dolefully.
“And I was counting on having pie fous supper,”
| groaned the fat one. |
Pa “They have gone,” said the Indian, turning from the
ag water. “They will not return to-night.”

He was speaking of the frightened Lobstervillians,
whose sail had begun to melt into the misty whiteness
that now covered the face of the sea.

 
  
 

ing the sail, and getting away, headed toward Lob-

“There was one who pretended that nothing _

5 TIP TOP WEEKLY.

This quartet now seated themselves upon some of
the lumber which remained piled near at hand and held
a consultation.

Meantime, having seen Agatha Bink and her
brother safely home, Dick and his friends had decided
to leave Smoketown and return to the anchorage near
Pine Point.

“No trouble about that,” said Casper Steele.
moon is up now, and there'll be no danger of getting
onto the ledges. I’m not anxious to stop here in this
place.”

“Nor I,” said Buckhart.

“Nor I,” put in Dick.
arrive here before the late train to-morrow.

“None of our friends will
I prefer

the clean, cool, healthy atmosphere of Pine Point to—

the smoky air of this place.”

In this mind, they returned to the eastern pier, sig-
naled for the tender, which came off from the yacht
for them, and, were soon aboard the Wavelark,

The yacht glided out of the harbor and headed for
Pine Point.

About half the distance had been made, when Dick,
who was standing on the forward deck, with Steele at
his side, suddenly grasped Casper’s arm and pointed
across the water toward the wooded shore directly
ahead of them.

“What’s that?” he exclaimed.
you see anything?”

“Where?”

“On the Point?”

“Why, yes, on my word I believe I see a light
there.’

“Look, Steele! Do

“What is it?” inquired Buckhart, striding forward

to join them. ‘What are you talking about?’ j

“That light on the Point, Brad,” said Dick.

ward Calm Cove.”

“There sure is a Hight! !” cried the Texan.
growing stronger, too.”

“Tt’s a fire,” declared Dick.

“But who would build a fire on the Point?’ mut-
tered Steele.

“No one except enemies,”
promptly.
it? Our enemies are-all here in Smoketown.

“Mebbe old Lavan Blackpool made arrangements to

send some men over to the Point while we were _
“Mebbe they’ve taken
our tent floors and loose lumber and piled it on the
brush we had heaped up and set the whole thing ©

away,” suggested Buckhart.

  

“The

y Tt: 4
must be on the Point, for we’re heading directly ee »

“Ths

answered Merriwell
“What enemies have we who would do

We
know Brian Blackpool and his friends are behind us.”

 

i ha
Oe.

 

 
   
 
 
    
  
   
    
    
 
  
   

ent cere eee wees

eS .
aaa a

ial, ~

    
   
     
     
     
       
         
 
      
       
       
       
 

 
         
       
        
     
 

ablaze.
, a I smell further trouble—I sure do.”
“It doesn’t seem that you can be right, Brad,”

I reckon that must be the way of it. Gents,
said
Dick. “Lavan Blackpool is not in Smoketown. He's
) it away on business.”’

“That’s all right. The onery old varmint may be
playing a sneaky game.”

“In what way?”

““Mebbe he judged we’d go back into town and
leave our camp site unguarded. Not wanting to get
into a muss with the law, perhaps he left Smoketown
on purpose to be away while his paid tools caught us
off our guard ‘and captured our camp site. In that
way, you see, he can disclaim any knowledge or con-
cern in the affair.”’

 

“T hope you’re not right about this, Buckhart,” said
Steele, “but I fear you may be. That eee is a
lusty old fire on the Point.”

“T’ve another theory,” suggested Dick.

“Spring it on us,” urged Steele anxiously.

“Lobsterville lies away yonder along the coast.”

“That's: right.”

“Three of Gideon Hammerhead’s associates took
flight after the encounter at the pier,”

ee esi

“They may be responsible for that fire.”

“True,” nodded Buckhart. ‘Partner, I wouldn’t
be any surprised if you’ve hit the solution.”

“We may find them there,” said Dick.
i | “And if we do,” growled the Ls. ie aeeae find
us on their necks in a hurry.”
“We'll make ready for whatever we may find,” said
t . Casper Steele grimly. “If our camp site has been

errs SE Ra eRe eae RR NE

aay

eee

up a little with my cannon.”

Buckhart laughed.

“T sure opine that would stir them up some. Two
or three shots from your brass-barker ought to send
them hiking hot-foot into the woods:”

Fully anticipating trouble on their arrival at the
Point, they now made preparations for anything that
ae might happen. As they drew nearer they decided that
iad the pile of brush and tseless dead wood that had been
gathered up for a bonfire was burning there on the

 

‘ use had been added to that heap of burning material
or not it was impossible for them to tell until an in-
spection could be made.

The Wavelark, under reduced speed, glided slowly .
into the quiet waters of Calm Cove, and the ing
was dropped. vi ea byt

     
  

TIP TOP WEEKLY:

captured and enemies attempt to hold it, we'll stir them .

land. Whether the lumber’ they had purchased for —

    
   
  
  
   
   
  
 
   
   
     
     
 
 
    
 
 
   
  
  
      
 
  

7

And now from the deck of the yacht they could see
the shore and the camp site illuminated by the light
of the flames. They had been right in thinking it
was the heap of underbrush and old dead wood that
was burning. The light was sufficient for them to
discern anything like a human being who might be
moving in the open upon the Point. To their surprise,
the place seemed totally deserted.

“Well, what do you know about that?’
Steele wonderingly. “Can you see any one?”

“Not a blamed soul,” muttered Brad. “It’s a whole
lot queer.”’

“Tt is,” affteed Dick, “for thereis our lumber and
there are our tent-floors and frames just as we left
Nothing seems @o be disturbed. Some one has
simply touched a match to that pile of wood.”

“Who did it?” cried Steele curiously.

“T think you can answer that as well as any one else
at the present time,” said Dick. |
“Mebbe it was done by the Lobsterville gents on
their way home,” suggested Brian. .
“But why should they take ‘the trouble to stop at
the Point and set firé to that pile? And if they did
so, why didn’t they burn our timber and do other

damage?” |

“You've got us all guessing, Merriwell,” said Cas-
per. “There’s only one other Sup HOSIIOR. a can ee
think of.” ae

“And that is—what?” —

“Crazy Cliff. Isn't it possible that the crazy fellow
has been here and started the fire?” 3

“Possible, but not probable,” said Dick. “T see no
reason why Clifford should do anything like that.”

“Steele, let’s get ashore as Leauge ¢ as possible and :
look around.” .

laughed

them.

“We may be attacked if we attain to land, pard:
Let’s be ready for that,” suggested Brad.

ey

“Tll have our gunner at the little cannon,” sa
Steele. “T’'ll give him orders to fire over us in case ;
‘enemies are discovered and we signal for a shot. Pe
always carry this silver whistle, and two blasts will
the signal for the gunner to open with the cannon. 0 e
course, he won’t try to hit any one, but possibly a
shot will send our enemies ee if there: are
enemies here,”’

   
  
   
     
     
    
  

  

These arrangements were made, and. a short iin
later the boys stepped into the little tender which Har-
ris had brought alongside. Away they went chug:
toward the landing upon the Point. Steele tet
some nervousness as they approached the shor
Dick seemed ee cal and. undisturbed, 7

   
   

 
   

      
     
      
    
     
    
 
  
  
   
    
  
   
     
 
   
    
  
  
 
  
  
   
   
   
 
   
  
  
 
   
 
  
    
  
     
        
       
       
  
      
   

8 TiP TOP

   

  

Buckhart naturally wore an expression of eagerness,

as if desirous of lurking around the
camp site and giving them a lesson that should teach
them to keep away.

The. tender swung in at the natural landing, and
Merriwell was first to leap ashore. He was followed
by the Texan, and Steele came at their heels.

Save for the crackling of the fire, which was now
beginning to die down, and the distant murmur of the
surf on the outer shore, silence seemed to reign over
Pine Point. Watchful and alert, the three lads. ad-
vanced and looked around.

“On my word, this is a mystery,” agmitted Dick.
“Nothing seems to be disturbed here. What does it
mean?”

“T say, partner,”
that hatchet there?”
_. He pointed toward an ordinary carpenter’s hatchet,
the sharp blade of which was buried in the trunk of a
tree some six feet from the ground.

“I didn’t leave it there,” answered Dick.
haps-some one else did.”’

“Can't you tell by looking for Sees signs whether
or not enemies have been here lately

“Doubtful,” was the answer. “We e’ve tramped over

this ground so mucli ourselves that we could not ‘tell
signs made by enemies.’’ ,

“Well, it’s perfectly apparent that there’s no one
here at present,”’ laughed Steele, with no small relief,
“and it’s equally apparent that whoever was here has
done no particular damage in burning our pile of

brush. Of course, we were planning to have a fire.
ourselves when the boys. artived, and this knocks us
out on that arrangement.”

Having arrived at the conviction that no one, neither

enemy nor friend, lingered about the Point, the trio
sat down upon the loose lumber for a consultation.

finding enemies

fe Maer
exclaimed Brad,

“Per-

_ Barely were they seated when the echoes were
startled by a wild thrilling war-whoop, followed by a
chorus of yells, and forth from the shadows of the
woods charged the young redskin and his three com-
_ panions. ty
“Great, catamounts!” roared Buckhart, leaping to
his feet. “Here they are! We're in for a ruction now,
“pards! Square away for business. Come on, you
varmints—come get your medicine! Whoopee!
_ You'll find the Unbranded Maverick of the Pecos right
here! You bet your boots!”

Instead of attacking them, much to their sur prise
the ‘ ‘enemy” began dancing round them in a wide
circle, pening and howling like so many’ maniacs.

  

  

     

  

WEEKLY.

“did you leave

Dick caught his breath. A moment later he gave a
shout and burst into hearty ringing laughter.

“Steady; Brad, ‘he cried, as the Texan
seemed on the point of making a lunge at the youth-
ful redskin. “What’s the matter with your eyes?
Don’t you know him? That’s Young Joe Crowfoot.”

“Well, may I be shot!”
that healthy Injun, and no mistake!”

“Ho! ho! ho!” roared the fat fellow, gasping for
breath from his recent exertions and suddenly stopping
to drop into a sitting posture upon the pile of lumber.
“Ho! ho! ho! We fooled yer that time, didn’t we,
by Jim! Say, fellers, for the love of goodness, don’t
you know where [ can scalp a pie? I’m so hungry
that my backbone is wearing the button-threads all off
the front of my vest.” a

“Obediah Tubbs,” roared Brad, with pretended
rage, as he strode forward and shook his fist under the
fat lad’s nose, “I have a mind to give you something
that would do you a whole lot more good than pie!’

By this time Merriwell had seized the athletic chap
with his right hand and the tall fellow with his left.

“Arlington and Jolliby!’ he palpitated. “Well,
wouldn’t this kill old people!
prise-parties !

old man!’

gasped Brad. “It sure is

This one beats the record!”

 

CHAPTER IV.

PITCHING THE TENT.

Chester Arlington, Young Joe Crowfoot, Obediah
Tubbs, and Chip Jolliby were there, remarkable and
surprising though it was. After Dick and Brad had
shaken hands all around ae new arrivals were intro-
duced to Steéle.

Crowfoot’s eyes spoke far more than his tongue or
his face. Although he remained grave and dignified,
there was a dancing light of joy in those dark eyes as
they rested upon Richard Merriwell.

“You can bet we were rather upset and disappointed
when we arrived here and found no one to meet us,”
laughed Arlington.

“But how did you get here?” questioned Dick.

“Came in my auto,’ was the explanation.
the machine at a farmhouse nearly two miles away
and tramped up through the woods to this Point,

which we reached in safety, although it was getting ©

dark before we arrived.”

“And no pie to greet us, no pie té cheer us, no pie .
“They didn’t even have

to sustain us,”’ said Obediah.

pie at the farmhouse. I touched them up for it. I

Talk about, your sur-_

Left.

‘ : i slg Tigh ai 5D 8 rt peas ahiats re
rc be i caren ena oa aes ee
   

iP TOP

  

told them pie was my mainstay and salvation. I as-
sured them that I might perish’ unless I secured pie.
What do you think of a New England farmhouse
destitute of pie? Never heard of such a thing before.
Why, those people must be next to heathens! They
: can’t realize the refining, civilizing, uplifting influence
q of a good old apple pie. Yum! yum! It makes my
i mouth water just to speak of it. And pumpkin pie—
now there’s something delicious to tickle a feller’s
palate with. Wouldn’t it do my soul good to gaze
| straight into the open face of an old-fashioned coun-
try pumpkin pie! Then there’s mince pie—Jupiter
but it’s great! Think of all the good things it has in
it. Chopped meat, and apples, and raisins, and spice,
. and everything nice. I’d like to put about twelve or
thirteen good mince pies away under my vest this
minute. Dick, for the love of humanity, tell me where
I can find a few of ’em. For the preservation of a
. bosom friend, take me by my soft white hand and lead
me toa pie of some kind. I’m pleading with you with
tears in my eyes and a hole in my stomach as big as
. the hole inside of a barrel.”
“Obediah,” said Dick, with pretended regret, “I
I sadly fear you'll find no pie in all this wild and deso-
A late region, The people down this way don’t eat: pie.
| They're satisfied with baked-beans and plain food of
that sort.” Bee:
“Then I’m going home, by Jim!” squeaked the cor-
pulent chap, his voice rising to a high pitch in his
| indignation and excitement. “Dern my picter, I won’t
stay here! You knew I was coming. Why didn’t
you lay in a supply of pie for me? Is this any way
to treat a friend? You know it isn’t. Excuse these
few tears.” |
In spite of his disappointment, the boys laughed at
him in a way that he declared was absolutely heartless.

“We didn’t know what to do after we found you
H. were not here, Dick,” said Arlington. “We discovered
that you had made arrangements for camping here—
; at least, we supposed the arrangements had been made
by you. As you were not here, we began to think
that something had happened to force you to abandon
‘4 your. plans.”

a. “You should have sus-sus-sus-seen us sitting around
4 here looking at each other and tut-tut-trying to decide
_ what we'd better do,” stuttered Jolliby.

:

“Fortunately we decided to linger here a while,”
said Arlington. “As we lingered we discovered a
small sailing-sloop approaching the Point,: and our

_ first thought was that it must be you. We got under
cover of the woods and waited. It turned out to be

phd

     
 

WEEKLY. 9

 
 

some one else. Four fellows came ashore here, and we
heard them talking about ripping up your lumber and
taking it away. Crowfoot had picked up one of your
hatchets. The strangers seemed rather nervous, and
they talked about the ghost of an old Indian said to
haunt this Point. Then Crowfoot threw the hatchet,
and there it is sticking in the tree. A moment later
he gave a whoop that must have made the hair stand
up on the heads of those fellows. You should have
seen them take to their boat and get away.”

“Our Lobsterville friends, partner,” said Buckhart,
speaking to Dick. “Evidently they did come here.”

“From what we heard them say,” continued Chet,
“we decided you were not far away, and we finally
concluded to set fire to your brush heap in hopes you
would see it.”

“We saw it, all right,” laughed Steele.
us all guessing.”

“T don’t suppose you reckoned me as one of your
party, Merriwell,” said Arlington. “I’m not here to
butt in, understand that.”

Dick hastened to assure Chester that he was not
butting in. Buckhart joined him in this assurance, al-
though with somewhat less heartiness.

We expect the others—some of them, at least—to-
morrow,” said Dick.
cainping here.”

He then explained the situation to the new arrivals,
telling them of the enmity of Lavan Blackpool and
the man’s threats against them.

“But we're going to stay here just the same, you
bet your boots!” nodded Brad. “We haven’t put up
the tents, because we thought it best to wait until
some of the others arrived.” —\

  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  
   
   
   
 
  
 
    
 
    
   
  
   
  
   
    
   
   
    
    
 

“You had 4

 

“We've had some trouble about

 

“But it will be necessary to put up one of them |
now,” said Dick. “There wouldn’t be comfortable
accommodations for all of us on board the Wavelark. —
Tt won’t take long to pitch one tent, as long as we have
the frame up.’

This plan was decided upon, and Steele accompanied —
Harris to the yacht to bring the canvas off. Casper —
received some whispered instructions from Merriwell, —
, and when he returned from the tent he brought a good- |
sized basket which seemed rather heavy. re ae

The basket was carried to a spot near the fire, where —
the ground beneath a pine was carpeted with soft
brown needles. There it was opened, and at sight’ of
the contents Obediah Tubbs gave a squeal of joy.

“Ts it pie I see?” he yelled. “Is this a delusion or

is it the real thing? Let me touch it to make sure.
Let me fondle it, dern my picter !”

 
     
  

   
      
        
  

te On top was a huge pie, which Obediah captured and
e held up admiringly, his greedy eyes seeming to dance,
3 “Blessings on thee, little man!” he sobbed, turning
F _ to Dick. “My heart was pretty near busted when I
___ thought you had forgotten me. ‘This soothes the pain,
. and I guess it will heal the crack.”

. A cloth was spread upon the ground and the supply
4 of sandwiches and other provisions placed before them.
} They gathered around the cloth and enjoyed a square

a _ meal, the food being washed down by cool water from
_, the Sobbing Spring.

e Having finished his pie, Obediah looked around for
+ more.

“Is that all?” he asked. “By Jim! that was jest
enough to fill the holler in one of my back teeth.”

“T think that will tide you over until to-morrow,
Obey,” laughed Dick. “Steele has a cook on the
Wavelark, who can turn out pie by the cartload. We'll

_see that he gets you up a supply on which you can
gorge yourself to the point of exploding.”
“Well, for the present I’m shaved—I mean I’m
Oe paved, ” said Tubbs. “T guess I'll live until morn-
ihe,”
And now ees went at : the work of said the tent,
every one taking hold in earnest. It was not long
before this task was done and the blankets brought
_ from the yacht had been spread to serve as beds.
“A trifle hard, I fancy,” said Steele; “but you can
_ stand it one night, perhaps.”’ | )
“You bet we cuc-cuc-can,” agreed Jolliby. “I'd
rather sus-sus-sleep here, with the smell of the pines
in my nostrils, than to sus-sus-sleep in the finest bub-
bub-bub-bed I know of.”

_Stéele had a banjo brought from the yacht.. Dick
fathead’ the instrument and played. Then they sang
some of the popular songs, Arlington giving them “A
Lemon in the Garden of Love.”

. Will some one kindly tell me,
/ Will some one answer why?
To me it is a riddle,
_. And it will be till I die;
_ A million peaches round me,
at Yet I would like to know
Why I picked a lemon in the garden if love |
‘Where they say only peaches grow.

zt “That s what’s due a feller. mk you inped
Tubbs, as Chester finished.

save Crowfoot and Steele |

The fire was now a heap of smoldering coals and
white ashes stirred by night breezes. The moon
: reamed bie upon, ther roe and ain Con-

 
 

TER FOP WEEKLY:

not long in one place.
“Fair Fardale” followed, all joining in the chorus’

tentment and happiness pervaded their hearts as if no
troublesome cloud presaging strife lay upon the hori-
zon Of their lives, : |

Tubbs was first to crawl into the tent and stow
himself away in the blankets. Jolliby soon followed,
and one by one they sought sleep, Steele ae to
the yacht.

Dick discovered that Crowfoot was missing. When
the Indian youth had left them he could not say.
After a time he found Joe sitting on the outer shore,
watching the surf that foamed along the sandy beach.

“I’m glad you came, Dick,” said the young red-
skin, as Merriwell sat down near him. “I don’t talk
much. I couldn’t talk much when so many others were
near. I am glad to be here. I was glad when Frank
gave me your letter to read. I was glad that you
wanted me to come and asked him if I might. It’s
been long since I last spoke with you, Dick. Many
things have happened.”’

“That’s right, Joe. Many things have happened to
me,’’ said Merriwell, thinking of all that had tran-
spired since he had entered Yale. “I’ve thought of
you often, Crowfoot.”

“Have you?” said the Indian, with an intonation
of pleasure in his voice.

“Often,” repeated Dick. “I’ve thought of our first
meeting. I’ve choght of the ball-games in the Blue
Hills last summer.’

“And of one time when you pitched the ball to.

me in the woods?” asked Joe quickly. “Did you
think of that time when we played a make-believe
game seein Harvard?”

“Oh, yes,” laughed Dick, “I’ve thought of that
hundreds of times.”

“Same here. Dick, I hope some time we may play
the real game. I study much; I study hard. I wanted
to bring my books with iit wanted to bring them
here. Frank said no. He said I study too much. He
said I should rest. He said it would be better for me
if 1 took some rest this summer. I don’t feel that
I need to rest from study, but I did feel deep down
in me a great longing for the woods. I did think, per-

‘haps, I would go to my grandfather i in the West a lit-

tle time this summer, but Frank he knows not where
Shangowah is now. You know my grandfather stays

much. Two months ago he was away in the North-
west,

not answer that letter. Sometimes I wonder if I will

He is restless, and he travels —

He got a man to write a letter for him, but Ks
he did not tell where he would go; so Frank could

ever see my grandfather again., Sometimes I think it. D

 
   
  
    
   
  
  
  
  
  
  
   
   
  
  
  
  
  
  
     
    
   
   
  
  
  
   
  
   
  
   
    
   
   
  
   
   
     
   
  
   

Peagesesenrernnt ae

Sea

2 ee A cet SE ote oe a i sa ee a ee pens 3 ; .
SiN = wit ines . pi Eo ail al a cs oa ~ es
pear - = weet ee ee

      
      
      
   

See eaPrennoet

Vo cence a canianaenn—easttr ee

a iE a Le a
es > “ ainad

 

is not to be, for he is very old, and death must come

to him soon.”

“When Old Joe talks as you’re talking now, Frank
calls it a joke,” said Dick.

“But it is true that Shangowah was near to death
the time he brought me to Frank. Only for Frank
and the good doctor Shangowah would have gone
then to join his forefathers. Last winter when Ches-
ter Arlington was in the West with Frank he saw my
grandfather. He has told me that Shangowah seemed
younger than ever, but I think the words were spoken
that I might have no anxiety in my heart.
father did not like Chester Arlington. Chester knows
it, and he says it is not strange that it was so.”

“Arlington seems to be changed, chief.”

“IT know not if the change is real and lasting, Dick,
but he seems different than he was when I first knew
him. You expect to play some baseball this summer,
Dick ?”’ 3

“Well, I’ve been talking about it, although I can’t
say for sure. There’s a team in Smoketown, and they
tell me that there is another in Lobsterville. We now
have six players here at the Point. When the others
arrive that will be ten of us. That will give us an ex-
tra man. If we can get any games, we shall play.”

“Good! I am glad. I hope it may sometimes be
that I shall catch for you to pitch, Dick. I know you
will pitch most to Buckhart, but sometimes perhaps
he will let. me go under the bat. .

“You shall go sometimes,” promised Dick.
sure Buckhart will agree to that.”

“IT am

For a long time they sat there talking in this man-
ner. At length they ceased speaking, although they
lingered to watch the surf and listen to its booming.

Finally Crowfoot turned an ear toward the woods.

“T hear music,” he said. ‘

It was the sound of Crazy Cliff's flute, Far away
in the deep forest the lonely outcast was soothing his
wretched soul with the piping of his flute. It was a
sad, weird melody that came floating out of the depths
of the pine wilderness.

Dick told Crowfoot the story of the hermit who
haunted Pine Point.
silence until the sorrowful tale was ended. ,

“Once long ago,” he said, “T used to think that
wickedness must always triumph if it but had the
strength. Through Frank I have come to believe that
this is not true.

has done. I am sorry that my ears should hear this

LIP OP

My grand-.

The Indian boy listened in,

I have come to believe that wicked-
ness always brings its own punishment, and so I think —
some day Lavan Blackpool will suffer for what he

WEEKLY. rx
music to-night, for my heart was glad with a great
gladness at being here with you. Now I havea feeling
of sadness which will stay. with me until the sun shall
come to-morrow. I would sleep now if I can.”

They rose and made their way to the tent, into
which they softly crept without arousing their slum-
bering companions.

As sleep gradually stole over Merriwell he was con-
scious to the-last that somewhere in the woods the flute
of Jasper Clifford was still pouring the sorrow of his
soul forth upon the night air.

CHAPTER V.
OBEDIAH GETS WHAT HE WANTS.

In the morning a misty white fog lay on the face
of the sea, but through it the sun was seeking to burn
its way in a threatening manner. Should the sun
conquer and the fog be scattered, it seemed certain
that a hot day would follow.

The campers were astir at an early hour.
ton, clear-eyed and healthy-looking, with none of the
old dissipated appearance about ‘him and none of the
betraying huskiness in his voice, was remarkably gay
and lively, with a care-freeness that seemed very
strange for him.

Obediah Tubbs persisted’ in sleeping so late that
Jolliby and Arlington “finally seized the fat boy,
dragged him from the tent, forced him onto his pins,
and ran him, wild-eyed and gasping, down the shore

and thrust him headlong, underclothes and all, into the

deep water near the natural landing.

Obey came up, spouting like a whale and rolling
like a porpoise. As soon as he could catch his breath,
he began to splutter, and roar, and Aaa and gurgle
forth all sorts of threats.

“Tut-tut-told you to get up and tut-tut-take your
morning plunge,” laughed Jolliby. “Gug-gug-gave
you warning, Obediah. We've all been in for a dip.”

“You wait!” squeaked Tubbs, as he floundered out :
“vou jest wait till I ketch you some time!’
Don’t you git any notion that I'll forgit this! By Jim, —

of the water;

I'll soak ye!” |
“Please, please don’t, Obey,” entreated Chester.
“You go to grass! I suppose you think it funny,
too. Now, what be I goin’ to wear? Here I am with-

out a change of clothes, and every rag of my, under-

clothes soakin’ wet,”

“According to the iridinesbicfty ‘you won't need any
clothes by the time the sun gets out,” said Chet. “Old

Arling-

         
  
  
  
  
  
  
   
  
  
  
   
  
  
 
 
 
    
 
     
   
   
    
 
   
   
  
    
   
  
  
 
   
  
  
   
  
  
   
 
   
    
       
       
   
  

   
      
  

   

‘ Sol is going to scorch things crisp to-day. Just hang
: your damp garments on a convenient limb and let
|... them dry.” \
+ — “And you'd better get a move on, too, Obey,’
called Dick from the vicinity of the fire. “The cof-
fee’s steaming, and breakfast will be ready in short
order.”
fe Some of the boards had been placed lengthwise on
f supports, forming a table around which the party soon
gathered. Steele came off the Wavelark and joined
them.
“T couldn’t think of eating aboard when there’s such
good company ashore,” he said.
Good company it proved to be, for there was no end
of joking and laughter. Obediah had recovered from
the shock of his unwilling plunge into cold water, and
he was perfectly happy save for one thing. There was
no pie for breakfast. Oh, yes, he wanted pie for
_ breakfast! Obediah could enjoy pie at every meal,
and still find it delicious and palatable for lunches be-
tween meals,

Plans for the day were discussed. It was agreed
that it was now best to go ahead with the pitching of
the tents and getting the camp ready. Dick was hope-
. ful that those of the party who had not yet arrived
_ would reach Smoketown late in the afternoon.

“Tf we take hold here in earnest, fellows,” he said,
_ “we should be able to have the camp pretty well set-
 tled before it comes time to run over to Smoketown
for the others.”

_ Breakfast over, Tubbs was left to clean up and take
care of the dishes, while the others rolled up their
sleeves and prepared for other labor.

_ All the forenoon the boys worked energetically, as-
sistd by two of the men from the Wavelark,
The result was highly satisfactory. Not only were
the tents pitched, but a long dining-table was built,
| sleeping-bunks were made, a stone stove, with a broad.
iron top was constructed, and easy other things ac-
complished. ! ;
The latest tent had a deci that could be lifted,
swung outward, and extended upon supports as an
awning. Beneath this awning on the warmest days
one could sit in the cool shade and gaze away across
he blue expanse of water and down the coast toward
Smoketown, Aas

 

  

plied in abundance by the strange Sobbing Spring in
the oe on near “ine camp ae |

TH «TOP: WEEKLY.

; _Drinking-water of the clearest, peat kind was sup-

make a kick, git disgusted, and go off about its busi-_

   

    

and turning the cool sea sto a boiling-pot. Never-
theless, there was a slight breeze at Pine Point, and
the boys were afterward to learn that their camping-
spot was frequently to have the favor of this breeze
at times when everywhere else there seemed to be no
breath of air astir.

They were a perspiring, tired, good-natured gather-
ing when they finally stopped work for the midday
meal.

“But where’s my pie?” demanded Tubbs fiercely.
“Here I’ve worked like a slave all this blistering fore-
noon, expécting to have pie handed to me when it came
time to eat, but I don’t see any pie.”’

“Well, now that’s a shame!” cried Dick, winking at
Buckhart. “Is it possible Obediah has been neg-
lected? Is it possible his appetite has been forgotten ?”

“Oh, he’s got to quit that pernicious habit of eat-
ing pie!” growled the Texan. “Wasn’t that the under-
standing? Didn’t we say we’d cure him if we got him
here? I sure reckoned he’d have to get used to eating |
decent fodder.” 7;

“Fraud! fraud! Humbug and deceit!” squealed the
fat boy, pounding on the table with the handle of his
knife. “Last night you told me there was a cook on |
the yacht who could make slappin’ good pies, and i
you promised I should have all I wanted toeat. Now = |
you go back on that promise. -Now you say I can’t. ~
have any pie. Now you say you're going to cure me
of the habit of eating pie. Look a’ here, every one
of ye. Unless I git pie I’m going to strike. I’m __
going to quit. I’m going to leave. I won’t stay here, —
dern my picter if I do! I didn’t come down here to.
git cured. I came down here to have a good time, and
two-thirds of a good time consists in eating food ay ae
a feller likes.” hia ie 4

“Oh, Obediah,” murmured Dick, shaking his head | me:
regretfully, “I fear you have a greedy nature! I fear ;
you're inclined to think more of your stomach than of |
your soul. Think not of feeding the bodily man, —
my boy. Think of the needs of the spiritual man.
Feed your soul by feasting your eyes on the beauties =|
of nature which surround you. You should be able to ee a
get a square meal off these glorious views. Look at 4
the deep blue sea. Look at the cool pine woods. Look _
at———” >

“Now you hold on right there!” squawked the fat
boy. “Jest as long as I can feed the bodily man I
ain’t never realized no distress of hunger coming
from the spiritual man, But if I can’t feed the bodily —
man I know what will happen—the spiritual man will —

 
   
         
       
     
       
     
    
  
  
  
  
   
  
  
  
   
   
 
 
    
   
    
   
  
  
   
   
    
     
   
   
   
 
  

 

aa
a ,

Se =

 

       
     
     
   
   
 

 

 

a
a, hes —.

is simply frightful.

ness, leaving the bodily man wrecked, busted, down
and out. Listen to me,’’ he continued fiercely, as he
glared at his companions. “I’m going to make a state-
ment right here and now.’ Unless I git the proper fod-
der for the sustenance of the; bodily man I’m goin’ to
pack up my pocket-handkerchief and jack-knife and
quit this crowd, That’s straight and flat, by Jim!
I’m like the fellow in the opera—I want what I want
when I want it. Now you fellows fill your faces with
this ordinary truck. JI_ain’t goin’ to eat at all.”

“Well,” said Dick, ‘‘as long as you're so determined
to pamper your appetite and ruin your digestion, I
suppose we'll have to succumb, Let’s give him pie,
boys.”

At this they, one and all, made a leap for a supply-
chest that had been brought ashore, flung it open, and
began to bring forth pies, which they piled in front of
Obediah. There were two dozen.of them, at least, and
by the time the entire supply had been placed before
the fat boy Obey was leaning back on his camp-stool,
his mouth splitting his face from ear to ear in a
broad grin of unspeakable happiness. .

“Thank ye, thank ye, boys,” he finally managed to
gasp, wiping a joyous tear from his eye. “You've
done pretty well. Dern my picter, I guess here’s
enough for my lunch! Of course, you might have
thought about providing a few pies for supper, but
I’m not going to fuss about that. You’ve shown a
considerate disposition, and I guess ’ll manage to git

along to-day if there isn’t any pie left for supper.”
wae. ae"

“Great Cesar!’ laughed Casper Steele.
going to eat them all now?”

“T tut-tut-told Dick not to bub-bub-bring ’ em all’

out,” said Jolliby. “TI tut-tut-told him Obediah would
stuff himself until he ex-pup-pup-ploded.”

It is possible that Tubbs. really fancied he could
eat every pie before him, but if such was the case, he
found his judgment at fault, for there was a great
supply left after he had stuffed himself until he could
not cram down another morsel. |

“T must be sick,” he said mournfully, as he surveyed ,

the pies he could not eat. ‘My appetite seems to be
awfully poor.

a week,

In spite of his emaciated condition, his. weight was
sufficient to cause the camp- -chair on which he sat to

collapse, which it now did with a snapping sound, let-
, ting him down with a thud. 3

TIP; TOP .WEEBKLY.

Really, I ain’t felt first-rate for most
I've been thinking about taking somie sort
of a tonic to build me up. The way I’m losing flesh
Pll bet I ae less than three
hundred pounds.” | oF

Grady was at the engine.

  

“Why do you furnish the camp with this sort of
doll-house furniture?” he squealed resentfully, as he
gruntingly gathered himself and rose to his feet.
‘Now, that ain't no kind of a chair for a mature per-
son to sit on.”

Spluttering and complaining, he left the tent, and
later they found him fast asleep on the pine needles
beneath the shade of a tree.

CHAPTER VI.

NEW ARRIVALS.

Following the meal the entire party took a siesta
during the hottest hours of the day.

Dick had bestirred himself, and was thinking of
starting for Smoketown with Steele’s yacht to meet
the boys who were coming, when Crowfoot called at- :
tention to a power-boat that was swiftly approaching
the Point. Indeed, the boat was coming with the speed
Although the sharp prow cut the water
like a knife, the boat was moving so fast that she “‘car-
ried a bone in her teeth.”

“On my word,” cried Dick, who had rushed out to
a favorable spot for a view, “I believe that’s Black-
pool’s new boat! Yes, it is! That’s Brian’s Blue
Streak, as sure as fate! He must have launched it to-
day.” |

“Wonder why he’s coming here, partner?’ muttered
Buckhart,* who had joined Dick. “He’s bringing a

of a racer.

bunch with him, too. There are four or five fellows in

that boat.” | -
“If he is coming here,” said Bik “possibly we'll
find out in short order why he comes.’ bere
“I fancy he wants to show off his aoe ~ observed 3
Steele. ce
‘At this moment the Blue Streak gave off a series
of shrill shrieks from its whistle.
In the power-boat three lads rose to their $e :

waved their caps, and sent a hearty cheer across | ithe

water.
“Great tarantulas!”’ exploded the Texan.
chaps) look a whole lot natural to me.
ought to know them.” )
Quite as surprised as Brad, Dick eadtined : i ae
“T think I do kiow them! Why, fellows, they’re~
the friends we're expecting—three of them, at least!” ~
‘Brian Blackpool was at the wheel of the Blue
Streak. He knew the deep waters of Calm Cove, and,
he skilfully brought the boat near the aie, ‘Gopeles :

“Those 7

 

 

  
  
  

Partner, you

    
   
       
 

  
   
The remaining trio in the boat were Tommy Tucker,
Robert Lee Claxton, and Earl Gardner.

“Well, say, you're a fine crowd to meet friends!”
piped Tucker.

“Hello, Dick!
clear voice.

It did not take long for the surprised lads on the
Point to rush to the Wavelark tender and prepare to
7. bring their friends ashore.
oF Grady had stopped the engine of the Blue Streak,
. and he now dropped an anchor overboard.

pereemneoes acer —
SSS See ea eee GSE? : REAP

:

Hello, Brad!”

rang out Gardner’s

   

: pa ea

shaking, great excitement when the new arrivals

reached the shore. Dick explained that they had not

been expected so soon. They had arrived at Smoke-

town on the midday train, instead of the one reaching
that place late in the afternoon.

Blackpool and Grady also came ashore,

“Found these chaps inquiring for you, Merriwell,
and so I brought them over,” he said.

_ Dick ‘expressed his thanks,

_ Earl Gardner shook hands twice with every one and
seemed inclined to make a third trip round. He was
the same fine-looking, clear-eyed, red-cheeked chap, a
little older, a little more manly, but no less enthusiastic
and high-spirited.

Claxton was a trifle quiet and reserved, but he
looked the camp over with an expression that betok-
ened his hearty approval of the spot chosen.

“This is great, gentlemen; simply great,’ he said.

| “Tm right gina to be here.” }
“We're all! glad,” chuckled Tucker. ‘ “We're still
_ soiled with.the dust of travel, but I see there’s a fine
surf on the outer side of this Point, and I propose to
soak myself in it.” |
3 “How do you like your new oat, Blackpool ?” i in~
_ quired Dick, after some minutes of talk with the new
_ arrivals.
“She’s a peach,”
Eh, Grady?”
__ “You bet she can,” nodded Copies anae every
— ugly tooth he had in his head. “She can trim anything
_ you have in these waters.” /

'
ee Brian. “She can fly.

ey say, Merriwell,” said Brian, ‘T have an idea.

i You see my left hand is still tied up.”

Rs He displayed the hand which hda on injured in
the adventure at Thunder Bluff. ;

- “How’s it getting along?” asked Dick.

“Oh, I suppose it’s coming as well as could be ex-

pected, but doc says I can’t play baseball for another

  

a TIP TOP»: WEEKLY,

There was a great jabber of voices, great hand-

. Merriwell.

   

“Well, is there any baseball to play?”

“That’s just what I was going to speak about.
Smoketown has received a challenge.”’

“From whom?”

“Bram Pegler, of Lobsterville. He’s captain of the
team over there. Got a letter from him this morning
challenging us to play on Saturday in either Smoke-
town or Lobsterville. We can’t do it.”

“Not and stand any show of winning,
Grady. “You’re our only pitcher, Bri.”

“Do you wish to borrow a pitcher?” questioned
Dick smilingly.

“Oh, no,” was the hasty answer. “When we go
against Lobsterville we'll have our own pitcher. ll
do the twirling.”

“Well,
tion?”

“T believe we talked baseball some on Thunder Bluff,
Dick. You said you'd have a team here at Pine Point.”

“Yes,”

“Well, you must have your team now.

a9

growled

what’s your idea? What’s your sugges-

Let me see,

I think there are ten of you here, including the chaps

I just brought over.”

“T£ you count Steele, there are ten of us.”’

“Well, that gives you nine men and a substitute.”

“What are you driving at?”

“We can’t play Lobsterville on Saturday. We can
play them a week from Saturday. They want a game
right away. Why don’t you take them up?”

“T—don’t—know,” said Merriwell slowly.
think they would play us?”

“T'll wager they would,
He wants to play all the time. He'll feel sore if he
can’t get a game Saturday. He'll rub it into Smoke-
town, for he'll claim that we’re afraid of him, Now,
if you will substitute for ‘us—if you'll play in our
places—I’ll make all the arrangements with Pegler.
I'll run over to Lobsterville right away and talk with
him.” .

“You might get into trouble with some of those
fishermen over there. They must be sore over the af-
fair last night. By the way, has the body of that fel-
low who was drowned been found?”

At this both Blackpool and Grady laughed.

“There wasn’t anybody drowned,” said Brian. “I
don’t know how he escaped, but Gid Hammerhead got
off with a wetting and nothing worse.
forenoon that Gid turned up at home all right last
night.” ,
“Well, I must say that I’m glad of that,” came from

   

“Do you >

Pegler is a baseball crank.

We heard this .

    
   
 
  
   
  
   
 
   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
   
  
   
   
  
  
   
    
   
      
   
   

 

 

 

      
       
    
   
     
TIP TOP

 

‘Twouldn’t have been no great loss if Gid had been
drowned,” grunted Goggles, who had lighted a ciga-
rette. ‘“He’s allus makin’ trouble. Last year he
kicked up a fight at one of our ball-games.”

“If we agree to substitute for Smoketown,”’

Dick, “where’ll the game be played?”

“Fix it to suit yourselves. I suppose you’ve seen
the old meadows in back of the Point here?”
Yew:
“Flat as the floor of a house and smooth as a car-
pet. You could lay out a baseball-ground there in
_. short order.”’
ue “Who owns the meadows?”

“I know the man. He’s a farmer on the Back.
Ridge road. If you were willing to pay him ten or
fifteen dollars for the use of that field as a ball-
ground, I reckon you could get it.”

“We'll do that! we’ll do that!” cried the boys

_ eagerly.
“If there’s any prospect of baseball, let’s get the
_ use of the meadows, Dick,” urged Earl Gardner.
“But we can’t be sure we'll be permitted to. play
there, until we interview this farmer,” said Merri-
well.
“There’s no question about it,”

said

averred Blackpool.

 

“T’ll give you my word that it’s a sure thing.”
“In that case——”
“In that case will you play Lobsterville Saturday
_ afternoon?”

Again the boys raised thee voices, and this time -

i they urged Dick to say he would play.
me “You see how they feel about it, Blackpool,” Mer-
riwell laughed. “If arrangements can be made, we'll
- play.” , ae
“Good!” said Brian, “And we'll play your team the
last of next week or early the following week.”
Hs “Providing you make any sort of showing against
| Lobsterville,” grinned Grady. “You don’t want to
| have an idea that them fishermen will be a snap.”
/ “Now that’s correct,” nodded Brian.
ar ie hard crowd, and they play the game for all there is
| init. If you win, you'll have to fight for every point.
| Don’t think just because they belong in a small fish-
ing-town on the coast of Maine that they don’t know
| t _ anything about baseball. Don’t make that mistake.”

 

o. CHAPTER VIL

THE WIDOW WHITKINS.

chattered Chip Jolliby. “Lullul-lul-looks like a

‘soaking wet ere she stepped from the boat.

- got to leakin’ pretty bad comin’ over, but I thought I : iz

“They're a

“Here’s a bub-bub-boat heading for this Point,”

    
    
 
  
   
  
 
 
   
   
 
  
   
  
   
 
 
  
   
    
  
    
 
 
   
   
 
 
  
  
 
  
 
 
 
   
  
   
  
   
  
 
   
   
    
  
 
   
 
  
    
   
       
     

WEEKLY. rs

woman in it.
distress.”

“The boat or the woman?’ asked Tucker.

The boys now turned their attention toward a small
sailboat that was heading toward the Point. -The
boat was lying low in the water, and they quickly
decided that she was aleak. In the stern, with her
hand on the helm, sat a large bare-headed woman.

“By Jinks! I guess we know her, Brian,” said Gog-
gles Grady. “I guess that’s the Widder Whitkins.”

“Think you’re right, Grady,” said Brian. “And
that boat is ready to founder. She’d better beach her.” at

The lads now watched the approaching woman with
great interest. In spite of the fact that the boat was
nearly half filled, the woman coolly steered round the
Point into the cove and made for a bit of sandy shore.
Her sleeves were rolled up, displaying a pair of tanned
muscular arms. The moment the boat grounded upon
the sand the woman sprang out, knee deep in the |
water. She wore a short skirt, and her feet were

Say, fellows, I bub-bub-believe she’s in

The boys were on hand to give her such assistance
as they could.

“What’s the matter, Mrs. Whitkins?”’ asked Black-
pool. “Your boat must be leaking badly.”

The woman looked up with a smile. She had a
singularly attractive face for one so large and mas-
culine in appearance. When she smiled she displayed
two rows of broad white teeth, and her voice was far
from unpleasant as she spoke. |

“The old bo’t ain’t much good, but she’s the only
one I’ve got left, so I have to use her sometimes. She —

could make Smoketown. Found out I was mistaken,
and had to run in here. Mebbe it’s just as well. —
Mebbe you can tell me what I want to. know, Brian —
Blackpool, and save me goin’ to Smoketown at all,
Then mebbe these young fellers will help git the water
out of this bo’t and pull her up so we can calk her. —
If I can stop that leak, I’ll sail her back to Lobster- a
ville.” > ae

“There’s a self-reliant lady for you,” murmured
Tommy Tucker. “My goodness, she’s a dandy!
What a hand to spank a refractory kid with! rs

“If I can be of any service to. you, Mrs. ‘Whitkins,” ag
said young Blackpool eotely “Pm at ‘your com- a
mand.” a

The woman laughed again,

“You don’t seem to be such a tough critter as they
call ye over to our town,” she said. “Of course, y
know I've been - widder ever since ap husband, Bu

    
  

Whitkins, was drownded in the big spring storm. I
didn’t want Bump to go off to his traps that mornin’,
but he allus was an obstinate, thick-headed man, and
all I could say didn’t do no good. Off he went, and he
never come back. They found his bo’t smashed on the
Broken Back ledges. They never did find Bump. He
left me his old bo’t and his traps. I’m goin’ to speak
of a sorter private matter, but something has happened
to git my dander up, and I don’t care a snap who
_ knows about this business I’ve been keepin’ secret.
Over in Lobsterville folks s’pose that Gid Hammer-
head bought Bump’s traps and tackle. Gid’s usin’
that outfit, but he ain’t never paid no money for it.
Arter my husband’s death Gid uster come round my
house purty often, and he gut to lettin’ on that he was
greatly took with me. He’s some younger’n I be, and
so at fust I told him to quit his foolin’. He protested
that he warn’t foolin’, He declared that he meant
business. He even asked me to marry him. Now I
couldn’t do that right away without raisin’ some talk
and kickin’ up somethin’ like a scandal. ’Sides that
there be folks in Lobsterville who still say that Bump
wasn’t drownded at all.
tun off and left me ‘cause I uster wallop him occa-
‘sionally when he gut obstroperous. Course I know
that Bump never had courage enough to run away—
not from me. Jest the same I thought it was best to
kinder wait a while before lettin’ anybody know I was
‘interested in any other of the masculine gender. I
tol’ Gid Hammerhead this, and I cautioned him to
_ keep away from my house so folks wouldn’t git to
talkin’. Arter that he uster sneak round sometimes
im the evenin’, He agreed with me that mebbe we’d
_ better wait a while before hitchin’, but he said it was
a shame not to have Bump’s traps workin’, so I fixed
it up to let hit have them traps and give out that he’d
_ paid me for ‘em. You know all women are foolish
_ sometimes, and I s’pose I gut kinder soft on Gid.
_ Bump was a dried-up, narrer-chested, homely man
even when he was a good deal younger than the last
time I saw him. There are lots of worse-lookin’ chaps
than Gid Hammerhead. If I’m blushing, I hope you'll
efexcuse me. Anyhow, I guess you understand now
_ jest how things are between me and Gid.”

 
 

“You've made it very plain indeed, Mrs. Whitkins,”
smiled Blackpool, while the others repressed their
amusement with some difficulty.

Bese don’t dare laugh,” whispered Tommy. Tucker.
see E did, I bet she'd catch me and oa me over her

  

TIP TOP WEEKLY,

There be folks who say he ~

head,” murmured Merriwell. “TI believe the widow is
on the war-path.”

“Now, young man,” said the energetic woman, con-
tinuing to address Brian, “I’ve been told that this
deceptous rascal who’s got my traps is foolin’ me.
I’ve been told that he tried to run off with a Smoke-
town gal last night, and would have done it only that
some of the gal’s friends stopped him. I dunno but
the whole story is a josh. What I want to find out
is whether it’s true or not. If it is true, I’m goin’
back home, and I’m goin’ to have an interview with
Gideon. I’m goin’ to tell him what I think of a feller
who'll deceive and betray a poor trustin’ woman that
has lately lost her only husband. When I git through
with Gid he’ll wished he had behaved himself.”

“Well, Mrs. Whitkins,” said Brian, “truth compels
me to substantiate the story you have heard. Ham-
merhead actually tried to abduct a girl by the name of
Agatha Blair, and he nearly succeeded in his purpose.

Miss Blair herself stated that the fellow proposed mar-

riage to her.”’

“That settles it!” exclaimed the widow. “Now I
wanter git back to Lobsterville jest as quick as I can.
Boys, take holt and help me. Let’s git the water out
of this bo’t, pull her up and calk her. We ought to
be able to do it. My stars, won’t I give it to Gideon
Hammerhead! The deceitful wretch calls me Mazie,
calls me darling, and talks a lot of soft goo to me.

Tells me what beautiful eyes and what beautiful teeth —

T have.
him.

Tells me I’m the only woman in the world for
I see you! I’m going to say something to you this
time.”

“T think I was right in fancying there’s something
coming to Gideon,” murmured Dick.

CHAPTER VIL
MR. M’KAY LOSES HIS JOB.

Lavan Blackpool returned to Smoketown a day
earlier than he was expected. Without warning he
walked into the office of the New England Lime Com-
pany and discovered the bookkeeper smoking a ciga-

rette and lolling at his desk while he listened with
an expression of great amusement to the funny story

his assistant was relating. .

Blackpool did not speak. He fixed the two em-
ployees with a terrible look, and the result was electri-
fying. The bookkeeper snapped the cigarette under

ee

Oh, you wait, Mr. Hammerhead—you wait till

 

tage
in ie

the desk like a flash, seized his pen, straightened up,

 
  
  
  
    
  
   
  
  
   
    
  
   
  
  
    
  
   
   
  
 
 

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‘solutely ludicrous.

TIP|FOP

and became exceedingly industrious. The assistant
caught his breath and hastily climbed to the top of his
high stool.

Blackpool glanced toward the desk of P. McGee
McKay. That gentleman was,not to be seen. The
door of Blackpool’s own private office was open on
a crack less than an inch wide, and from within came
the low murmur of voices.

The head of the New England Lime Company
stepped toward that door, placed his hand on the knob,
and opened it.

There was Mr. McKay leaning gracefully against
Blackpool’s own desk, his body bent forward slightly,
while he looked downward at the dark eyes of a tall,
blond young lady, who dallied with a freshly sharp-
ened lead-pencil. Remarkable though it may seem, the
ice in McKay’s face had thawed until his present ex-
pression was almost humanly warm. His usually cold
voice had likewise lost its frigidness, and Lavan Black-
pool heard him distinctly say:

“You know I have always thought a great deal of
you, Miss Glode—I might say, without exaggeration,
that I’ve thought the world of you. Hitherto I’ve
found it necessary to keep my admiration secret and
my tongue silent, but now——”

Miss Glode was Lavan Blackpool’s stenographer.

She had discovered her employer at the door, and at

this point she burst into a hearty laugh.

“Yes, Mr. McKay,” she said, “I quite agree with
you in thinking that you were born for an actor. You
do very well, indeed.”

McKay looked astounded for the moment, but. in
another instant he had discovered Blackpool, and the
startled and horrified expression on his face was ab-
Nevertheless the president of the
Lime Company did not laugh.

“Er—er—Mr. Blackpool—er—I—er——”

“Quite right,” said Lavan, in a voice that made Mc-
Kay quake.
this sort of a performance. As Miss Glode stated,
you may be an excellent actor; but you are in my em-
ploy for quite a different purpose. I’m not paying you
to make love to Miss Glode during my absence, sir.”

“Make love? Why, Mr. Blackpool, you are mis-

- taken in thinking——”’

99

“T am never mistaken,” interrupted the master, in
a manner that did not admit of dispute. “Miss Glode,
you may retire. I have a few words for McKay.”

“Very well, sir,”
to find it difficult, to: repress her amusement.

P. McGee McKay was white as a sheet when left

“You err very much when you attempt

said the stenographer, who seemed |

WEEKLY. 17

alone in that small room with@@avan Blackpool. He
found ‘it necessary to brace himself stiffly in order
to prevent his knees from melting beneath him.

Blackpool stepped behind his desk and looked the
distressed man over contemptuously.

“Is this the way you attend to business while I’m ab-
sent, McKay?” he asked. “Do you think I am paying
you to tell Miss Glode what a lovesick fool you are?
I thought you had more sense, McKay.”

“But, sir,” said the agitated man, “there was no
pressing business just at present. Everything has been
looked after carefully and faithfully, sir. I’m sure
you are aware that I am faithful to your interests at
all times. Miss Glode and I fell to speaking about
the theater. She—that is, I—I told her I once—once
had ambitions—ambitions for the stage. She laughed
at me. She seemed to think it very amusing that I
had fancied I could become an—an actor, Therefore,
I attempted to demonstrate my—my talent.”

“Don’t stammer, and choke, and stumble when you
lie, McKay,” said Blackpool coarsely. “If you can’t
tell a lie glibly, don’t try it.”

“But, sir—didn’t Miss Glode tell you

“Miss Glode is a very ready-witted young woman.
She tried*to help you out of your fool situation, but
you haven’t the skill to carry it off, McKay. An ac-
tor, indeed!
with you, I’d feel like laughing. Now, stop—stop,
sir! Don’t carry it any further. It won’t go with
me. TI see through you clearly. You ought to know
better than to attempt to fool Lavan Blackpool. You
were wasting my time, and you were making an ass
of yourself by spouting a lot of silly love-talk into
the ear of Miss Harriet Glode.
you suppose a handsome young woman like her could
care for a sapless, spineless, dish-watery creature of
your description? McKay, you haven’t a pint of good
red blood in your whole body. Women of Miss
Glode’s description care for real men. You're only,
half a man and a small half at that.”

 

By this time the sarcastic, contemptuous, insulting

words and manner of the master of Smoketown had -¥

brought a slight tinge of color to the pale face of
McKay. For the first time since he had known the
man Blackpool saw a flash of angry fire in his secre-
tary’s white eyes.

“You needn’t be so certain, Mr. Blackpool, %
McKay.

just as you did——”
“T presume ‘you would have tried to embrace her.

If I were not ashamed and disgusted —

Why, you chump, do -

Ty

said
“I’m sure that Miss Glode was willing to.
listen to what I was syne: If ae — not eo

 

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‘ I can imagine her smaking you good and hard if you
i, tried that. Why, she was laughing at you, McKay.
Now don’t tell me, for I saw it in her face. I know
that young woman very well. At this very minute
she’s in the outer office laughing to think what a
dressing down I am giving you. Not another word,
sir! Silence! I have not finished yet. I’m employ-
ing you to attend to business during business hours.
Even though it were not ridiculous to fancy Miss
Glode might welcome your attentions, I’m not paying
you to make love to her in this office. I won’t have
it. If it occurs again, you'll look for a new position.
Now we'll drop this matter right here. We won't
mention it again. You may retire until I examine my
mail. If I want you, I will call you.”

 

The private secretary retired. He was both con-
fused and annoyed to discover the yellow-haired
stenographer biting her lips in the outer office to keep
from laughing outright. She did not favor him with
as much as a glance when he appeared. Not so, how-
ever, with the bookkeeper and his assistant, both of
whom looked round slyly at McKay, grinned and
winked and seemed to enjoy his all too evident dis-
- comfiture. He got back at them by cursing them

under his breath, but as this seemed to increase their
amusement, he finally gave it up.
Fifteen minutes later an electric bell tinkled a aigual
for Blackpool’s private secretary.
_ The face of the master, wore its grimly placid ex-
pression as McKay presented himself at the desk.

“T presume,” said Blackpool, “that the instructions

I gave you ere ane Smoketown have been carried
out to the letter,”

McKay coughed behind one thin hand.

“T suppose, sir,’ he said, “that you are referring to
your orders in regard to the strikers?”

“Yes; and I also telephoned you some instructions
as to your method of dealing with the Blairs. Of
course, you attended to that matter promptly?”
“Yes, I attended to it,” faltered McKay; “but—but
we {——” ; ;

ter? Confound you, you’ re all choked up! Have the
_ Blairs been turned out upon the street?”
“No, sir, they have not, for-—”

“What?” roared Blackpool.

 

“Not turned out?

  

_ do you mean? How dare ares fail to ey out my in-
i oan x: | ;

WEEKLY.

“Well, go on. What makes. you stamtmer and stut-.

‘And you haven't evicted Mrs. Holmes? Why, what |

“My son what?” shouted the exasperated master.

“Your son prevented me from carrying out my in-
structions.”

“What right had he to prevent? Why did you let
him interfere? You don’t take orders from my son.”

“So I told him, sir, but he threatened me. He
threatened to have me discharged if I bothered the
Blairs or the Holmeses.”’

‘Now, look here, McKay, I hope you’re not lying
again. I can’t understand why Brian should do any-
thing of this sort. I can’t believe he did.”

“On my word, it’s true, sir.”

“T hope you’re not lying,” repeated Lavan Black-
pool, “for if you.are I see your finish. , Yes, by Jove!
I see your finish whether you’re lying or not! When

I tell you to do a thing I mean for you to do it. I.

won't be disobeyed. I keep you to carry out my
orders, I call you my private secretary, but I have a
stenographer who takes care of the greater part of
my correspondence. You're my private secretary in
name only. You're employed to do the work I ask
you to do. I told you that the Blairs must be put
into the street as an example to these mutton-headed
strikers,
defy my authority. The Blairs were evicted once,
and I said they should not find a roof to cover them
in all Smoketown. Unless I make good, unless they
are driven out, unless these strikers realize that my
power is such that I cannot be defied in the slightest
particular, there’s no telling what may become of it.
i talked this matter over with you before I left town,
and when I telephoned you I told you to act immedi-
ately without the slightest delay.’’

“And I hastened to inform Mrs. Holmes that she

miust put the Blairs out. I hastened to tell her that
you had found out concerning the killing of Bill
Seaver, and that her husband would be arrested for
murder unless she did put the Blairs out.”

“And then, after making that sort of talk, you fiz-
zled—you failed! 1 won't have a failure connected
with me. Didn’t you scare the woman? Didn’t ; you
frighten her at all?”

~ “Oh, yes; but there was a fellow who came into tlie.
house while I was talking with her and threatened me.

He had a pistol. He drove me out of the house.”
“Who did this?”

“That boy Merriwell, who interfered at the time the |

Blairs were evicted from their home.”
“That fellow?” snarled Lavan Blackpool.
“The same,’’

“He drew a pistol on you?’

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“No, no. I didn’t say that.”
“You said he had a pistol. Did he display it?’
“No, sir, but r

“Did you see it?”

“No, sir, but

“Then how do you know he had one?”

“Oh, I’m sure he had a pistol in his pocket.”

“McKay, you’re a confounded coward! You. let
that boy drive you out of the Holmes house, did you?”

“T went right away, sir, and saw Sheriff Jones. I
told him to take his deputies and put the Blairs and
Mrs. Holmes out of the house. I told him to put their
furniture into the street.”

“Well, why didn’t he do it?”

 

“Because before I got through with him your son
came into the office here and told him not to do it—,

because your son threatened to have me discharged un-
less I took back those orders.”

“Who’s your employer, my son or myself?” raged
Lavan Blackpool. “You know that I won’t have any
one interfere with my business. . You’ve shown your-
self utterly incompetent to hold your present position.
'You’ve failed at a time when I was expressly partic-
ular that my orders should be faithfully carried out.
I propose to fill your place with a better man, You're
discharged.”

P, McGee McKay had lost all his color now and
was once more deathly white. His weak chin trem-
bled and his hands were unsteady.

“What’s a man to do in my position between father
and son?” he faltered. “If he tries~to do any-
thing-——-”

“Not a word! not a syllable!” roared Blackpool,
rising and pointing a rigid finger toward the door.

_“Y’m done with you! Go! If you try to speak another

word, I’ll have you kicked out!’
McKay went.

a 1
> t

 

CHAPTER VIII,

A CHIP OF THE OLD BLOCK,

X

Shortly after the departure of McKay, Lavan Black-
pool, his face like a storm-cloud, strode through the
outer room and left the office. The pens of the book-

| keeper and his assistant scratched industriously until
‘| Lavan had reached the sidewalk.
| ing stopped and both peered cautiously out of the win-
dow at the broad receding back of their employer.

Then the scratch-

Miss Glode resumed her employment of eaeethewing
and novel- -reading.

TEP stop

 

WEEKLY. . 19

“The old man is sizzling to-day,” said the book-
keeper.

“Sizzling?” said the assistant.
heat. He fired. Pat.”

“Yes, I thought there was something coming to
Pat when the old man caught him in the private office
with Hattie.”

“The old man’s a bit woozy over Hattie himself.”

“Sure. He’s got a case on her.”

At this point the stenographer looked over the top
of her book and remarked:

“Tf you two sticks don’t want to chase Mr. McKay,
you'd better quit your whispering and attend to your
work,”

“Isn't she the saucy thing!” said the bookkeeper.

“Thinks she owns the place,” muttered ,the assist-

“He’s at a white

ant. But they resumed work just the same.

In the meantime, Lavan Blackpool had been inquir-
ing for his son, who had learned that Brian was away
with his new motor-boat, having stated that he would
visit Pine Point.

“Now, what’s he doing over there?” muttered
Lavan disgustedly. “I presume Ill have to wait for
him to return before I find out the truth of this Blair
business, Why should he interfere toiprevent my
orders from being carried out? If he did interfere,
he'll hear something from me.”

It was near lunch-time, and, in a disturbed and
angry mood, Blackpool walked home to his fine house,
which was situated on the outskirts of the town at a
distance from the kilns, which belched forth black
smoke night and day. Mrs. Scadgers, the house-
keeper, met him with a curtsy as he came in and wel-
comed him home. |

“It's back again ye are, sir, sooner than we ex-
pected,” said the housekeeper. ‘We did not look for
you, sir, till to-morrow.”

“Now, see here, Mrs. Scadgers,” said Blackpool,
“T’ve told you more than once, and experience should

teach you, that you never know when I’m going and

when I’m coming. I’ve told you to be prepared for

me at all times. You have no right to expect anything

as far as I am concerned, I hope you understand
that.”

“Indeed I do, sir,” bobbed Mrs, Scadgers, “T nivver

expect anything, and I’m always expecting everything.
Lunch will be ready, sir, in half an hour.”

“All right!” growled the master, as he mounted the :

stairs to his own room.
In a few minutes Lavan came down, paused in his.

handsome library, surveyed the bookcases and the ; |

   

 

  
   
   
  
   
    
    
    
       
    
 

     
    

  

  

20. Aa Oe

furnishings as if he stood ready to eat them in the

i place of his lunch, sauntered ponderously through to
‘the dining-room and regarded the decanters upon the
sideboard with a sullen eye. Mrs. Scadgers, reap-
pearing from the kitchen, where she had given the
cook instructions, was stopped in her tracks by a ges-
ture of the man’s hand.

“What’s this mean?”

“What’s what mean,
housekeeper.

“This decanter is nearly empty. Some one has been
drinking my whisky. Mrs. Scadgers, have you been
at my whisky?”

Oh, a0, ) Sir,”
touch it, sir—nivver.

husband, and I hate it.
life.”

“Then who’s been drinking here?”

“I think, sir, it was your son.”

_ “Wha-a-a-at?’’ roared Blackpool furiously. “My
son—my son drinking whisky? Why, it’s impossible!
He never touched a drop iri his life!”

“Then, sir,” said the woman, “it must mate been his
friends he had here while ye were away, sir.”

“Did he have friends here ?”

“Yes, sir; and a noisy, disturbing, carousing set they
were, sir. They played cards for money, too, sir.”’

“W-H-A-T?” bellowed Lavan Blackpool. “Do you
know what you're saying, Mrs. Cadgers? My son
playing cards for money? Impossible, I say!”

“Well, sir, it may be impossible, but when I stepped

into the room, sir, to ax ‘em not to break all the
glasses and smash up things generally there was cards
_and money on the table at which they were sitting, sir.
Perhaps your son, sir, was not taking part in the
game. I can’t say as to that. I know there were cards
before him.”

 

  

e

questioned Blackpool.
sir?’ mildly inquired the

iS ee ee

was the hasty answer. “I nivver
It was the death of me poor
I wouldn’t touch it on me

“You may go, madam,” aid ee Blackpool, with
a gesture toward the Gagr, mi y speak with hee
about this matter.”

He was so. exasperated that. he hese: ‘to require
_ a brimming glass of whisky in order to quiet the dis-
- turbed state of his nerves. Having ‘drunk this, he
retired to the library to await the call to lunch.

whistling up the walk and let himself into the house.
The youth was lightly humming “For he’s a Jolly
Good Fellow”. as he entered the library and halted,
with an expression of. surprise, on seeing his father
standing in front of the screened fireplace regarding
vies with a. ae and va ga frown,

  

  

  

Ere lunch was served Brian Blackpool himself came

 

WEEKLY.

“Hello, dad!” exclaimed Brian. “You back? Why,
when did you hit this smoky old burgh?”

Lavan Blackpool’s frown seemed to become still
more terrible.

“What's the matter with you?” asked the boy won-
deringly. “Sick?”

The master’s finger pointed toward a chair.

“Sit down,” he commanded.

“Oh, but, I’ve been sitting, gov’nor.
standing.”

“Sit down!” repeated Lavan Blackpool.

With a wondering quirk of his face and an uplifting
of his eyebrows, the youth obeyed ue second order.

“Something’s gone wrong, I see,” he observed,

‘wholly undisturbed in outward appearance. ‘You
must have a grouch on, dad.”

“I have a few questions to ask you, .young man,”
said Lavan Blackpool.

“Fire away,” invited Brian.

I don’t mind

“Since I’ve been absent it seems various things have

happened.”

“Oh, things don’t stop happening when you go.

away, gov nor. They keep right on just the same.”

“It seems to me that you're getting rather friendly
with those insolent young rascals who are camping
on Pine Point.
to-day.’

“You got it straight, dad. Just come from there.
You see, I’ve been making arrangements for a game
between the Lobsterville team and the Pine Pointers.
I fixed it all up. They'll play Saturday.”

“Well, that’s fine!” exploded the master.: “So

you're getting very intimate and friendly with those
young scoundrels who are camping over there in defi- ©

ance of me! They’re a set of insolent rascals!’

“Say, dad, it’s rather funny, but I’m beginning to

like tbat crowd. They’re hot such a bad bunch, you |

know.’

This caused the elder Blackpool to pronounce ‘the:
name of a place that is supposed to be SynOR EROS |

with great heat.

“I didn’t think it of you!’’ he rasped, in his glide
manner. “I’ve heard other unpleasant things. I’ve
heard you had a lot of carousing young fellows here i in
the house playing cards for money.” |

“Oh, nothing but a little game of poker, gov’nor.
We just played for amusement, you know. There’s no
harm in it,
play poker occasionally.”

“And my whisky—some one has been drinkin it.” y
y y g
said’ Brian _

“Now, I plead not guilty to that,”

I understand you were over that way.

All the chaps worth knowing at college | a

    
    

      
   
  
  
  
     
  
   
   
  
   
  
  
   
  
    
  
  
  
 

 

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promptly. “TI haven’t touched your whisky. I found
the key to the wine-cellar, and we had a few bottles of
wine, but not a drop of whisky.”

. “Evidently you’re going to be a very sporty young
man!’ growled Lavan. “‘T’'ll have to look after you
in future. But now I’m coming to the main point.”

“Fire away. It must be near lunch-time. I’m aw-
fully hungry, dad.”

ae

b
r

“Did you or did you not interfere with my explicit
orders to be carried out by McKay? I gave him
orders to see that the Blairs were put into the street.”’

 

YS “So he said,” nodded Brian.

BY “I’ve discharged him,” said the master.
» “You have? What for?”

“For not carrying out those orders.”

“Oh, you can’t do that, dad. That’s dead wrong.
I don’t take much stock in Pat, but I can’t stand to
see him fired on my account.” :

a
—

| wish to see your orders carried out.”

r Lavan Blackpool gasped at the coolness and the au-

5 dacity of his son, who had now risen and stood in

_ the center of the room, carelessly playing with a paper-
knife he had picked up from the library-table.

“TI knew, of course,” Brian continued, “that you
were not aware of the fact that I’ve had an eye on the
Blair girl for some time.

I like her.”
‘Lavan Blackpool was compelled to clutch at the
Be mantelpiece for support. |
*What—what’s this?” he gasped.
telling me?”
} “Why, I thought I spoke distinctly. 3
| there was anything hard to understand in what I said.
| Agatha Blair is a peach. She’s the prettiest girl in
b this town, and I’ve taken a fancy to her.” woe
“Why, great Cesar’s ghost! She’s the daughter of
* a common day-laborer. Well, you’ te certainly the
| limit,” muttered Lavan. “So that was why you inter-
| fered with the carrying out of my orders?”

 

   
   
   
  

“What are you

 

“Precisely, gov nor.
and they’ll have to leave Smoketown, Agatha’ll go
with them. I don’t fancy that.”

_ “Well, I do!” snarled Brian's father, “That's pre-
cisely what I fancy and what I'll have done. Before
this I wished to make an example of the Blairs toi im-

 
 

f “He’s fired now.”
i “But you'll take him back.”

| “Never.” | |
“Oh, yes, you will, dad—you’ll take him back.
c Look, gov’nor, there was a special reason why I didn’t

‘you owe me thanks, gov’nor.’

She’s just about my style. |

and prevented McKay from carrying out your orders.
I threatened him with the loss.of jis job if he didn’t

still.

I didn’t think .

| you'll give him his position again if he’ll come back

You can accept his apology and et it ee - What - wc:
you say, dad?” Os

Kick’ the Blairs out of doors

   
  
   
   
     
  
   
   
   
  
    
   
  
   
    
   
  
   
  
  
 
   
     
  
   
 
  
   
   
  
     
     
  

WEEKLY. 21
press the strikers. Now I see that for your own bene-
fit they must be driven out of this place.”

“Oh, have a little sense, dad. You were a boy your-
self once. You've always liked the opposite sex pretty
well, and I don’t believe you’ve gotten over it yet.”

Blackpool stiffened from his heels to. the extreme
upper end of his vertebrae.

“Now, you’re going too far,” he said, in a cold,
harsh voice. “I must teach you a lesson. I'll see that
the Blairs are on their way out of Smoketown before
night.”

Brian began to feel in an inner pocket of his coat.

“Oh, by the way,” he said, “I have something here
for you. I have a letter I picked up in the office. It
was lying open upon the bookkeeper’s desk, I thought

you might not wish the bookkeeper to read it. Evi- ae
dently it had been left there for him to peruse.”
“A. letter?” |
“One of your letters. Here it is, gov’nor. It’s 5

addressed to Miss Harriet Glode. I didn’t read it. I
just noticed the opening words, I simply observed
that you addressed her as ‘My darling Harriet.’ 1
knew you would be furious if the bookkeeper read, a
private letter of that sort, ane so I scooped it. I think —

The expression on Lavan Blackpool’ s face was puz-
zling. That he was angry there was no question; that
he was disgusted could not be doubted; that he was
grateful to his son finally became apparent.

“You see I am on, govnor,”’ chuckled Brian.
“Now, why do you blame me for following in your
tracks? I’m a chip off the old block. I did interfere —

take orders from me. Oh, I bluffed him to a stand- _
He didn’t know what to do, gov’nor. Tt wasn’t | .

his fault that the Blairs were not pitched into they
street. You shouldn’t be hard on him for that. “You | |
shouldn’t fire him. Take him back. I’il fix it. P'ilsee
him and tell him you were hot under the collar, but

and apologize. That will make it all right for you.

“Brian, you’re too much for me, I guess rl have ,
to agree. Say, boy, you don’t eee the sacgeciony A no
read this letter, do you?” se

“Certainly not. Didn't I oe you: T scooped it before :
he saw it?” ee CUR oe ea ie de te

“And you didn’t read it Scuctalts “Ast aS
| Maas nad the start ea it. ee was to soft de me,

      
      

  
 
 

 

   
  
    
 
   
 
   
  
 
  
   
  
   
  
  
   
 
   
  
 
   
 
  

 

22

gov’nor. I couldn’t go it. Speaking about the Blairs,
don’t you think you'd better consider their case a while
longer? Don’t you think they’d better remain in
Smoketown ?”

“You rascal!” growled Lavan.
to consider it.
block.”

“T suppose I'll have

 

CHAPTER IX.

LAVAN BLACKPOOL’S REBUFF.

Through the energetic, friendly service of Brian
Blackpool arrangements were made for the game on
Saturday between Lobsterville and Pine Point. The
fishermen agreed to play on the Pine Point field. This
was the broad, level tract of land known as the
meadows. It lay about half a mile from the Point
and was completely surrounded by woods.

Dick himself interviewed Benton Greene, the farmer
who owned the meadows, and paid him fifteen dollars
for the privilege of playing baseball on that field as
often as he desired up to the fifteenth of September.

Saturday turned out to be a fine day. To the sur-
prise of the boys, shortly after noon a sailing-sloop
from Lobsterville brought a dozen persons to the
Point, who announced that they had come to -witness
_ the ball-game and added that at least half a hundred

more of the settlers of that fishing-town would be
present.

Within a short time others began to arrive. Some
came in small power-boats, but most of them were
brought by sailing-craft. These boats swung into
Calm Cove, one after another, and anchored there until
the waters of the Cove presented a strange and unusual
appearance.

The Lobsterville team, a lusty, Ge waokine set
_ of fellows, ranging from sixteen to twenty-six, disem-
_ barked from a large gasoline-boat. They were pro-
vided with loose well-made uniforms and presented a

Baek really-formidable appearance as they marched up from

the landing in a body, led by Bram Pegler, their cap-
_ tain and manager.

Dick met them, and Pegler introduced himself.

“Don't s’pose you’ve got no sort of a ground to
3 play on,” said the Lobsterville captain, “but we wanted

_-a game mighty bad, and as long as Smoketown didn’t

~ dast tackle us to-day, we finally decided to come here.”
 “T hope you'll be satisfied with our grounds,” said
- Dick. ‘We've had several men hard at work on the
field for the past two days.

  

TIP. TOP WEEKLY.

You certainly are a chip off the old .

Indeed, I think the infield

a ciel career

a
ee eee

      

    

will prove most satisfactory if you like a grass dia-
mond.”

“It don’t make much
di’mond or a skin di’mond,’
we can trim you on either.
room.”

“You'll find that all right,” nodded Dick quietly.
“If you will follow this path through the woods, i
will lead you straight to the field.”

“What’s the matter with you?
along?. Ain’t it about time?”

“The game is to be called at two-thirty, isn’t it? I
believe that was the understanding.”

difference whether it’s a grass
’ returned Pegler. “I guess
All we want is plenty of

“That’s right; and it’s purty nigh 2 o’clock now.

It don’t lack more’n fifteen minutes of that time. You
fellows don’t even seem to have your suits on.”
“We're waiting for them,” explained Dick. “We

expect them very soon. They were ordered shipped

so that they ought to be in Smoketown now.

Blackpool has agreed to bring them.” |
“Well, if you don’t git no suits to play in, what are

you goin’ to do?” asked Pegler. “Goin’ to back out ?”

“No, indeed,” replied Merriwell, with a slight touch
of indignation. “We'll play that game this afternoon,
if we have to wear the clothes we have on, and we'll
be on hand to start the game on’the minute.”

‘All right,” said Pegler; “only you don’t want to
disapp’int a crowd from Lobsterville, ‘cause, they’re
liable to be mighty nasty if they git disapp’inted.
Guess we'll go along to the field, boys, and git in some
practise.”

Through this interview Brad Buckhart had been
fretting and fuming, finding it difficult to hold him-
self in check. He growled under his breath and glared
after the Lobsterville crowd as they started away

along the path, followed by most of the fishermen who

had arrived.

Truth to tell, Merriwell was worried because Brian
Blackpool had not arrived with the expected suits.
Dick knew Brian could have reached Pine Point long
ere, this oo. |

‘In a short time, however, young Blackpool’s motor-

boat was seen coming at racing-speed. She passed sev--

eral other boats that were likewise headed toward
Pine Point. Into the Cove she glided, and the ‘anchor
was dropped, while the expectant campers watched
and waited. |
Brian and four friends came ashore in a small boat
which Blackpool had brought in tow. They were seen

to toss a huge bundle into the boat, and this brought fs

. 3 * f
Ain't you going

Brian

 

    
     
 

 

 

 

 

    
       
       
       
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
         
    
SR OE ES Si HE

Paes: SF

rere ie

 

oe
ec

expected Lobsterville would win the game.

 

_ down you too easy. See you a Merriwell.

cheers from the expectant campers, who | now knew
that their suits had arrived.

“Sorry if I kept you fellows waiting,”
he leaped ashore.

said Brian, as
“Just had a little argument: with
my old man. He and I seem to clash a greal deal of
late. He’s pretty ugly to-day. Merriwell, a word
with you on the side.” |

He led Dick to one side, and they spoke in low
tones. Dick’s friends saw. him smile and nod, at the
same time tapping the breast pocket of his coat. They
heard Brian say: “Good! Then he can’t stop you.”

By this time the bundle had been opened and the

_ boys were eagerly looking for their suits.

“Here’s your outfit, Tubbs,” laughed Arlington, as
he tossed shirt and trousers toward the fat boy.

Obediah caught them up, took one look at them, and
gave an indignant squeal.

“Mine?” he piped. “By Jim! I couldn’t git them
trousers on over my feet. Mine? Dod gast it! they’re
Tucker’s.” a

Some one had handed Tonimy Obediah’s roomy
garments, and the two exchanged.

“Lively, fellows,” said Dick. ‘Hustle into the stits.
Get bats and balls and let’s hike for the meadows. We
oa to be able to put in five or ten minutes of ptac-
tise,”

By this time several boats from Binokwtowtg: were
_ working into the Cove, bringing baseball enthusiasts
_ from the lime-burning village down the coast.

“There’s quite a crowd coming over,” announced
Blackpool. “They’re rather anxious to see what you
fellows can do against the fishermen. I hope you're
able to put up a stiff game, I hope you don’t let them
T’ll be

at the field.”
The Pine’ Pointers. realized that nearly every one

campers found little time to practise together and the

. _ fishermen were regarded as fast players, there seemed

| reason to believe that the expectations of the public

  

pou be justified.

When all were dressed and ready to start, Dick
hie his companions about him and spoke a few
quiet 5 words.

| though we may not have our team-work fully. de-
~ veloped. If we want more baseball-games ‘this sum-

_ | mer, we've got to show the people to-day that we can

lay some  Let’s not make the mistake of underrating
our opponents simply because they happen to be coun-
nen. ILet every man keep his temper and his head.

Par ery.
~ of

TIP: POP

As the -

“Let's try to play together, boys,” Hie’ wid Vesea

     

WEEKLY.

If
we are beaten by superior playing, we'll not feel as
bad as if we are beaten through our own poor work.

Don’t throw the game away by foolish playing.

Don’t get too anxious., As much as we want to win
this game, remember that it won’t kill us if we lose.
Anxiety is quite as bad as carelessness or overconfi-’
dence. Come on.”

The Lobsterville players were practising on the field
when the Pine Pointers appeared. After watching
the fishermen for no more than two minutes.Merriwell
saw that they really were expert in handling them-
selves upon the field. The outfielders covered ground —
rapidly and gathered in fly-balls with ease. The in-
fielders were quick upon their pins, sure of eye, and
accurate of throw.

“Here comes the easy marks!” roared a voice, as the
campers advanced. .

“Hello!” muttered Dick, locating the owner of that,
voice with his keen eyes, “there’s Mr. Gideon Ham-..
merhead. I didn’t see him get off at the Point, but he’s
on. hand, it seems.”

Gideon Hammerhead was very much “on hand,”
and he made himself conspicuous with his loud voice
and blustering, contemptuous comments upon the
campers. He was. offering to give odds of two to
one upon Lobsterville, and Buckhart entreated Merri-
well’s permission to close the big chap up.

“No betting, Brad,” said Dick er
here for sport and not gambling.”

Pegler called his men off the field and gave Dick’ 5
team a chance to practise,

The entire field had been mown by hand. The dia-
mond had been trimmed close with lawn-mowers and
was really in excellent condition,

There was nothing startling about the practise of |
the Pine Pointers, and there seemed plenty of reason

“We're

for the spectators from Lobsterville to: laugh deri:
sively over the work of Tubbs in right field. The fat

boy ran with the speed of cold molasses, and he muffed

the first three balls batted out to him. When he did ie
catch one he fell all over himself and seemed BO Rts
knocked out and done up for want of breath that he

panted and wheezed for-a full minute thereafter.
It had been agreed that Reddy Perkins, of Smoke- f
town, should umpire the game. Blackpool had de-,
clared Perkins a fee and honest, man for the | ay 4¥
HONK.) ite
Just as the game was about: to span teas Black- te
pool appeared on the field and erode nen out ve
the diamond. Brig Rep waits A CN Cy ON, an tag

 
    
  
   
    
     
      
  

-

 

 
   
   
 
   
 
 
 
 
   
    
  
   
  
  
   
  
   
 
  
   
  
  
  
 
   
  

 

 

Bt back of first base, ‘

“Hold on,” he said commandingly, “you'll have to
stop this. You can’t play here.”

Dick was facing him in a twinkling.

“What’s that, sir?” he asked, his voice clear and
sharp. “Can't play here, Mr. Blackpool? What do
you mean?”

“IT mean what I say, young man.
on this field to-day.”

“Why not?”

“Because I own the field. I’ve just purchased it
from Benton Greene, and here’s the deed. I forbid
you playing here; and I warn you, as trespassers, to
depart at once.’

Dick did not even deign to glance at the aia which
Blackpool displayed. —

“Benton Green was the owner of this property ie
terday, wasn’t he?”’ he asked.

You can’t play

_ “That’s all right,” answered Blackpool. ““He owned
it yesterday, but I own it to-day.” .

“T had my dealings with Mr. Greene yesterday. I
care nothing about your deed, Mr. Blackpool. Here-is
a lease of this ground which I acquired of Benton
Greene. It was carefully made out by the best lawyer
in Smoketown, and I think it will hold. Would you

like to examine it?”

He drew forth the ‘Joan and offered it for the in-

spection of the Smoketown magnate.

Blackpool took the paper, frowned fiercely and per-
mitted his eyes to survey it. After a few moments
something like a smothered curse escaped his lips.

“Greene didn’t say anything to me about this!” he
snarled. “It’s a fraud! Why didn’t he tell me?” )

“1 don’t know why he didn’t tell you, sir,” said
Dick, as he recovered the lease and slipped it into his
pocket, “That’s no affair of mine. Settle it with
Mr. Greene, Boys, take the field. Let the game be-

Lavan Blackpool felt like preventing that game by
main force, but, as he looked around, he realized that
the sentiment of the crowd was against him. Already

the spectators were murmuring and growling, and sev-.

eral of them advised him to ‘“‘chase himsel f.”’
Blackpool retired. |
Reddy Perkins broke open a box and produced a

MA : clean new Spalding.

- And now Gideon Hammerhead made himself heard

: once more, | 4 &

“Look a’ hear, Perkins,’ he ibaa from’ the line

TIP DOP WEEELY.

; ‘you wanter be careful what you
? a ‘if a threw. Larne re I'll eat

you up! I'll grease the field with your hide! That’s
all.”

“Play ball!” cried Perkins.

CHAPTER X.
THE GRAVE—A HOT FINISH.

Realizing he had not the power to prevent that game
either by legal right or by main force, Lavan Black-
pool grew so disgusted that he quickly sought an op-
portunity to slip away unperceived. He did not wait
to return to Smoketown by boat, as he had come. In-
stead of that, he took an old path leading through
the woods toward the highway near which stood the
farm buildings of Benton Greene. He was determined
to vent his spleen and disappointment upon the farmer.
To hjm the meadows had no value now that there
seemed no lawful way of preventing the Pine Pointers
from playing basebalh there until the expiration of
their lease.

“T'll make old Greene take the field back and cough
up the money,” muttered. the angry magnate.

He was so absorbed with his own sullen, bitter
thoughts that he failed to know when he wandered off
the main path and was led astray by something which
resembled a “natural path.” Finally he discovered
himself deep in the woods and halted to look around.

“Where am I?” he snarled. “Confound it, how did
I get here? Where’s the path? It must be yonder
to the left. Suppose I might retrace my steps, ‘but I
think P’ll make a short cut.”

His short cut did not prove to be an easy one. The

woods grew heavier and the thickets denser. He —

floundered and crashed through the underbrush. His

clothes were torn and his flesh whipped and scratched Ee
With each passing moment his rage | *

by the bushes.
increased.

Finally he,stopped once more, struck by the thought
that he was wandering at random in that great stretch
A strange feeling of dread came creeping —
- over him. Although the sky was clear and unclouded, ©
To the

of woods.

there were dense, dark shadows in the forest.
man it seemed that these shadows were inanimate,

awesome, fleshles§ and bloodless creatures watching —

him with malicious hatred.

“Tve got to get out of this in a hurry!’ ‘ie
“The main road ought to be straight ahead,

growled,
but there’s a regular jungle here, I’ll have to bear to
the right and circle that thick part of the woods.
the devil did I ever try to make it afoot?”

   

Why

    
     
     
  

} he
oer
Eas
ae
sth
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} eat
Up

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. wh.
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» method of getting

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ter

ich
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did
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ut I

- ey SA
ta, Re ae as

TE aoe Ee aig

On he went, and it seemed, to his dismay, that the
tangled thickets actually
farther to the right.

farther and
sought for some
through inthe direction he wished,
to take. Finally, in despair, he decided to turn back.
But was completely bewildered, and after
tramping on for a full hour longer he was forced to
confess that he was lost
timberland.

pushed him
Vainly he

now he

in that gloomy stretch of

“But I.can’t stay here—I can’t stop,”
huskily.

he whispered
‘“T’ve got to keep on pegging. I'll come
out somewhere.”

At last the forest seemed to open somewhat. . The
pines stood ‘tall and straight and gloomy, the branches
of their thick tops meeting and interlacing.

A strange sensation pervaded the soul of Lavan
Bl ickpool.

+
c

He did not understand its meaning, but
he was possessed by a feeling of dread and awe which
grew upon him with every step. Somehow’ it seemed
as if an unseen magnet was drawing him onward.

Suddenly and unexpectedly he stepped forth into a
sthall glade in the heart of the great woods. Halt-
ing, he found at his very feet a long, low mound of

earth. At one end of this mound was a rude stone,
upon which the dim light showed some letters crudely
carved. The mound was decorated with wild flowers
freshly plucked that very day.

“A grave!” breathed Lavan Blackpool. “Why,
what’s this mean? Who is buried here? Who brings
fresh flowers to this grave?”

_  _His heart pounding tumultuously in his bosom, he

| leaned forward and peered at the lettering “upon the

stone. Slowly he made out the name chiseled there—

“BERTHA.”

As if struck by a bullet, Blackpool staggered back,

: ee one hand, with outspread fingers, thrust before him

_as if to hold off an accusing spirit which had suddenly

\_ risen to confront him there.
| “Bertha!” he gasped, “Bertha! Can it be?”

Far and faint from the depths of the lonely forest

Pee RR A NO

~

e

%

 

See

 

TH

Pa

  

 

‘: o came the mournful plaint of a flute.

At that sound Lavan Blackpool turned and fled, his
- face ghastly white, horror in his eyes, L ike a mad-
man he crashed through the forest—on, on, away,
ey from the lonely grave and the wailing and
mournful sound of the. flute. .

*

  
  

* x 2 *

 

Xk xk

 

 

  

It was a fierce game from start to finish. Lobster-
ville opened up by batting Merriwell hard and getting
two runs, one of which, mower was unearned, Evyi-

 
   

 
 

      

LIP TOP: WEREBLY:

 

eased pee neteert ge ae
Saar 7 >

a, Se

     
  

 

25

     

    

With a strong batting-order, the Pine Pointers
sought to retaliate in short order, but after getting
two men on bases, with only one out, they fell victims
to the arts of “Granser”’
pitcher of the fishermen.

W opsle,
‘

In every inning there @as some sharp batting, biit
equally sharp fielding prevented the score from run-
ning up very fast. Although Merriwell’s team got
after Wopsle in the third, the fishermen added two
more tallies, and the campers fell one short of tying
the score.

the long-geared

And thus it continued right through the game up
to the finishing inning, Lobsterville holding the lead i in
spite of everything the boys could do.

Gideon Hammerhead ,was blatantly exultant. At
intervals, when the Pine Pointers grew threatening, ©
Gid snarled at Reddy Perkins, seeking to browbeat the
bow-legged Smoketown umpire into favoring Lobster-
ville.

“It’s mighty queer we can’t seem to get a start on
these galoots, partner,’ muttered Buckhart. “Every
time we have an opportunity to. take the lead, they
manage to pull out somehow.”

Arlihgton seemed somewhat discouraged.

“Never knew you to be hammered so hard, Dick,”
he said. “You don’t seem to be in your old form. I
believe I could outpitch you to-day myself.”

“Oh, come off!” said Buckhart. “If you were
pitching, they’d pound you to death.” .

Chester did not like this retort, and. it seemed to
make him somewhat sullen.

Lobsterville finished her turn at bat in the ninth,

with a lead of one run, the score then standing 9 to 8.

“Now you be careful, Perkins!’ snarled Gid-Ham-
merhead, as the campers came to bat. “You know.
‘what's coming to you if we don’t git the right sort of
deal here.”

Perkins turned on the speaker. _

“T’'ve heard enough from you,” he said. “I'm um-
piring this game on the square, and I don’t propose to
be bullied.” cay

“Ye don’t, hey?” roared Gid. “Well, ye ain’t in |
Smoketown now, and there’s just as many men from
Lobsterville here as there are from your place. I
wouldn’t care if there warn’t. I ain’t afraid of the
hull of Smoketown. I ain’t afraid of no nen as
Now you go on and be careful.”

Buckhart was the first hitter. He lifted a long
drive into center field, but the ball was captured aie.
a hard run py the fielder.
    
   

  
     
    

. The Texan came back from first base shaking his
P head.

Chester Arlington was ‘the next batter.

 

“We're beaten,” he muttered, as he walked out to

the plate.

Wopsle struck Chet out.@

“fAll over!” Gid Hammerhead unde
“The game is qur’n!’ ‘i

roared

Then Young Joe Crowfoot smashed a hard drive
into right field and reached ‘first, although the. fielder
handled the ball swiftly and threw to the base.

a = A ec emit etn ie ae
ope = ete wis 2) Ses

“That's a life!” piped Tommy Tucker, dancing onto
the coaching-line. “Now we're off! One run ties us
up! Come on, Claxy, you gallant old Virginia war-
horse! Git into the running! Biff the leather!
Smash her out!’ |

Although Claxton had been hitting poorly, he now
walked into the batter’s box, picked out a bender that
suited him, and laced the ball over the center-fielder’s
head.

Crowfoot literally made the ground smoke beneath
his feet. The speed of the Indian was something
marvelous as he raced home.

The ball had struck soft ground, and the center-
fielder quickly secured it,

The second-baseman had run out a little for the
throw, and the center-fielder lined the Spalding to him.

Dick Merriwell himself was on the coaching-line: by
third. He saw the ball coming, but took a desperate

~ chance in sending Rob Claxton home.
ee The Virginian stretched every sniaséle and nerve in
_an effort to reach the plate with the winning run,

The second-baseman lined the ball to the catcher.
“Slide!” rang out Dick Merriwell’s. clear voice.

Claxton flung himself headlong in a slide for. the
plate.

Smack !—the ball struck in the catcher’ 8 mitt, and
- he stooped to put it onto Claxton.

Just as he touched the Virginian the ball sipped
from the catcher’ s hands and rolled away. ¢

With a roar, Gideon Hpatimaes head charged onto the
field.

“That was out!” te ee
_ with the ball!”

We “And dropped it,” said Perkins. | “Tt was safe.”

ie “Take it back! take it back!” snarled Hammerhead.

ae ae san 1 ae ye ar

“Ele touched. him)

TIP TOP WEEKLY.

“Safe home!” shouted Reddy Perkins. i

The Pine Pointers hastened to surround Perkins.

“You'll have to chaw up the whole crowd,” said
Buckhart.
“And I can do that!” raged Hammerhead. . “I can

      
     

wallop any one of ye, or the hull bunch put together!”
He had failed to notice a large, muscular woman
who had appeared on the field as Claxton made that
splendid hit. This woman now came forward with
a rush and seized Gid by the collar.
, Giddy,” she announced.
me for the last few days, but |
You’ll come home with me, and
we'll settle up our business. Now don't ye try to
squirm away, for if ye do I'll lambaste ye! You're a —
great feller to talk, but I give ye my word I'll take ye | «
over my apern and spank ye proper unless you're ca’m |
and soople.” ee

    
         
       
       
    
   
  
  
 
   
    
   
    
   
  
    
  
  
   
   
     
     
 
     
       
       
   
  

“You won’t smash nobody
“You've been dodgin’
I’ve ketched ye now.

 

“Tt’s the widow!” exclaimed several of the Pine
Pointers.

  

        
  
 

The change in Gideon Hammerhead was laughable. | :
All the blow and bluster went out of him in a twink- . ef
ling, and he looked limp and frightened. - >

“All right, Mazie,” he said, choking a little. “Don’t |
git so excited, darling. I'll go home with ye. It’s |
all right. I’ve been dreadfully busy for a day or two P.
so I couldn’t git around to see ye.” e

“Yes, I expect you have,” retorted the widow, with |
a sarcastic laugh. “Come on, Giddy. Don’t stop to | —
make any more fuss here. Don’t pay no ’tention to |
him, boys. He’s great to-talk, but it’s most all wind.” |

She marched Gid Hammerhead away, leaving the}
Pine Pointers to cheer triumphantly on the field. =

tin
THE END, 1 tio:
The Next Number (591) Will Contain 3
DICK MERRIWELL’S DRAW; és
whi
| that
ls . a Re
5; vert
THE STRUGGLE WITH SMOKETOWN. ‘ : tf
an
| < pub
Defied—Storm Clouds—Bitter Truth—Determination, A
oe t

 
 

ton’s Anger—Quick Work—Smoketown Score
Threatening Storm—A Tie Game.

  

   
  

  

 

 

       
 
 

 
  
  
  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

i SH ,
C Sa ie ay i
0, EEK]
Pr ‘ Ta a Ny 0G} RO N eS hig
- <7 Anideal fublication apa
7%
11 S
NEW YORK, August 3, 1907.
at — —=———==
th TERMS TO TIP TOP WEEKLY MAIL SUBSCRIBERS.
(Postage Free.)

iS Single Copies or Back Numbers, Sc. Bach.
sd. ". 3 MOnthS...aceccsacan- ubaustass 65ce. ONG. FOO0lS Rati hisaveidhictcs. $2.50

a SUROOMUNNE .ocdwaunuccesdwdendess 85c. | 2 copies one year..........5... 4.00
it ae BP INOULINS. wees Sion ca enteis $1.25 | 1 copy two years.............- 4.00

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ye | © eredited, and should let us know at once.

 

 

 

fo STREET & SMITH’S TIP TOP WEEKLY,

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ine | TIP TOP ROLL OF HONOR.

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nies o Denald Bachert, Penn.

es /

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a? Dick Roberts, New York. |

with : Edward C. Quinn, Canada.

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(A letter from New York.)

As I have never seen a letter from this part of the State
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“Tip Top” is the best weekly published, and the Medal Library
has no equal. I regret to say that I have not read many of the
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“witty Jack Ready, If Jack Ready were not in the stories they

 
 

 
 

  
  

TIP. TOP WEEKLY.

- would almost take a million pages to express my feelings toward —

sp capac

would not be so bright and cheery. Please send me your latest
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Raymonp A. STEVENS.
We have complied with your request, and hope you will order
what back numbers you desire.

 

(A letter from Louisiana.)

Having read your famous weekly called “Tip Top” for three
years and seeing so few letters from this city, I thought I
would write to express my opinion of the famous magazine over
which I have spent so many enjoyable hours. The first I read
was No. 543, “Frank Merriwell’s Standardof Honor.” f
thought it was the best story I ever read. I got all the back
numbers to be obtained, and have been reading them ever since. |
I have also read all the Merriwell stories in the Medal Library,
Burt L. is the best writer for boys alive. I like Frank and his
set the best. I was glad when Dick entered Yale. I think he
will even equal Frank himself. Buckhart is certainly a tried and
true friend to Dick. He is in some respects like Bart, ready to
fight for his chum. Will Dick appear in the Medgl Library, and
in what number? I am anxious to read of Frank’s search for
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I sincerely wish the best of luck to “Tip Top” and all con-
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CHARLES DurFFy.

Dick will make his appearance before a great while in the

, Medal books, but just now we cannot specify what the number

of the issue will be.

Catalogues have been sent to you as per
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I wish to write a few lines to the “Tip Top Weekly,” which
I hope to see in the columns of the Applause. This is my
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The greatest pleasure I can find’ is in the baseball stories, which
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Philadelphia, Pa.. Norman S. Swartz.

Just so, Norman, and that was one of the reasons we stopped
giving the addresses of our young correspondents. So many com-—
plaints came in that it became a burden. We never believed
real “Tip Toppers” were guilty of this, but, nevertheless, out-
siders took advantage of the opportunity to deceive our readers.

 

(A letter.from Penns¥lvania.)

This is my second letter to “Tip Top,” king of weeklies, ae Ce

seeing my first letter in print, I hope to see this one, also.
want to praise your famous weekly; all I can say is what thou-
sands of others have said. I was very sorry to hear of Cap’n
Wiley’s sad fate; he was a fine pitcher, and should have let
drink alone. I am also sorry for James Stretcher, and his hard-
luck stories, and I hope he will jain college—Yale—soon. I
have convinced my sister that “Tip Top” is the only book to
read. As I am writing this she is reading one herself. I think

Dale was forgetting Madge in No. 584. I was glad Pifeville
_ won the Blue Hills League pennant.

will join Yale soon. I remain a stanch “Tip Top” admirer.
WILLIAM T. Purpy. ‘
Convert a few of your boy friends, William. ‘They would be
a thousand times better off reading “Tip Top” than in loafing ~
upon street corners, and picking up habits that can only do harm, —
Write us again. REN AS te
- ' >
I have read your king of weeklies. for over five years. It

?

 

it. I have found it the most interesting weekly I ever tread.
Dick, Brad, and’ Dale Sparkfair are my favorites. As for —
Frank’s wife she is a daisy, and if she is as pretty as the book.
says I would love to see her. As for Chester Arlington, I am
glad to see thatyhe has reformed. What. made me think of.
writing is that I have not seen many Applause letters from
Canada, especially from Ontario. I may not have my letter

4

 

I hope Chester Arlington © _

       
   
   
   
       
      
   
  
     
   
   
  
  
   
  
  
    
            
        
     
     
   
   
     
     
     
     
          
        
       
    
 
      
   
    
   
  

tif +0n

 
  

worded quite correctly, and, if not, you will, I hope, make the

proper changes. I trust. this will not take too much room in

your Applause column. You may slap Burt L. Standish on the

back for me. I remain, A CANADIAN ADMIRER.
Brule Lake, Ontario, Canada.

 

Your letter was all right, but we would have been better
pleased’ had you told us what the magazine had done for you, and
how you took advantage of every opportunity of introducing it
to your friends, whom you knew it would benefit.

 

is As I have been a reader of “Tip Top” from No. 1 to date, I
By thought I would send you a lettéf, as the other fellows all ex-
pect me to do the writing. They, as well as myself, are anx-
f. ious to know what has become of our old, friends Hal, Dave,
a0 big Bob, Black, Smart, and Tubbs. They seemed like old friends,
and we all feel like there was something lacking from the story.
It seems rather lonesome at Yale without our old friends. New
friends are all right, but never like the old ones. We all ex-
pected to see Bob and Hal go to Yale with Dick, and were very
much disappointed. We all like Frank best, with all his friends,
then Dick and Brad, then comes Hal, Dave, big Bob, Black, and
ee | Smartt. Dick has not found one new friend to hold a candle
Ea to his old ones, outside Dale Sparkfair. Will Dick have all
Pt his old friends with him during the summer? We will wait
and hope. If this letter escapes the waste-basket I want to say
to the readers, who are friends to dear old Hal and Bob, to get
busy, say something, do something for the cause. We have
about 68 fellows in our club, and they all read “Tip Top.” They
buy from 25 to 35 books every week; whoever happens to have
the best chance always buys them and takes them to the club-
rooms for the others to read. “The head-lines of this letter
will show what business I am in, I have been here a long time;
but thanks to “Tip Top,” I am going on my 24th year without
ever drinking a drop of intoxicating Tieher
the club allowed to drink. I have promised the fellows to write
this letter, so I hope to see the most important part of it in the
Applause column, at least enough to let us know if we will
ever hear from the old friends we like the best. I think the
only exctise I can offer for this letter is that I have not seen
the inside of a school since I was t2 years old; since that time
‘I have had to depend on my own efforts to keep myself and
my mother and sister, I used to read all the weeklies, but for
the last three yeats I have read no other besides “Tip Top.” The
boys used to “kid” me a great deal when I first took it to the
club, but now they all read it. Well, if I don’t stop this letter you
will not take time to read it, so I will close with good wishes to
Burt L. and to Street & Smith. ;
Columbus, Ohio. | From a Buncat or “Tip Tor” Reapers.

Your letter pleases us greatly. We can only say that the author

 

 

bringing the old ones back when his reading-public clamor for
a renewal of the tiés that bind them to the past.

ne’

I have sent quite a few letters to you in regard*to “T ip Top,”
but T never saw any of them published, so I am going to try
again, I am not going to say much, but I’ll say this, that “Tip
Top” is one of the best’ and one of the most sensible stories
published. I congrattlate Mr. Standish on his ability to write
such stories. I herewith enclose a ofie-cent stamp to cover
postage on one of your catalogues of the Medal Library, Would
- you tell me if you have number 150 of the Medal Library in
Ae print? would like very much to get it. Hoping you will
y pees this letter and send the catalogue as soon as possible,
1 remain, yours truly, Joun A, Wayrick, Jr.
Brooklyn, N. Y. 3

Yes, all numbers of the Medal are in print. Catalogue has
gone forward. You evince considerable determination, in seek-
ing to get into the Applause column, and we are glad to give you
the opportunity, | .

i

I have been a stanch supporter of ae Top” ever since T
read ty first one, which was No. 359. My parents at first did
hot wish ite to read them, but I gave them one, and since then
T have had permission to read as many as I could get.

. During this time I have gotten 12 boys and girls to read
_ the books and we have formed a club which we call “The
_ Merry Merries,” Perhaps you have heard of them. I think this

pe pets et

   

     

  

at OGD Sy sti 5, tn ates ‘4 ‘ 4,

  

Ma
A ik NG a i Tali aa

ower ia did

There is no one in,

manipulates his characters toé suit his fancy, and is constantly.

WEEKLY.

     
 

a very creditable feat, because it was all through my efforts that
the boys and girls got and kept together. I think Dick, Frank,
and Brad are all to the mustard, and the girls, especially June,
are all the candy, also. These are the sentiments of the club.
So, with hopes of a long life to Street & Smith, Burt L., and all
the boys, believe me.a loyal “Tip. Topper.”

Jersey City, N. J. Francis S. WILLIAMS:

You have done well, and certainly deserve credit. We hasten
to extend our cordial thanks, and trust you and your friends
will continue to enjoy the splendid stories Mr. Standish gives
us week after week.

  
         
        
       
      
   
    
    

 

     
  

I think ‘that it is up to me to try for the Applause. I’ve
been wanting to write all the time, till I got so I had to. I think
it 1s the best ever published. At first my mother objectéd to my
reading them, but finally she consented. The covets are very
much better since number 566. My favorites are Dick, of course,
and then Brad, who is from the “Lone Star State.” I am. glad
Chet Arlington has reformed. I think there is something in the
lad. I believe I atn saying too much. Hoping to see this in the
Applause, I remain a true “Tip Top” reader. Ernest Morreu.

 
        
     
       
    
    
  
   
   
   
    
    
  
 
   
  
  
    
    
   
 
 
 
    

 

We are glad to hear from you, and glad to,know your mother i : f
sanctions your reading “Tip Top.” She would be a very strange |
mother if she did not, after reading a story like “Dick Merri- |
well’s Regret.” 7

 

  

 

 

Bon Ue
(A letter from Pennsylvania.) bP P.
I have just finished reading No. 584, and think it the best
weekly published. Although Il am a girl reader, | admire “Tip |
Top” as much as any boy could, for 1 love any kind of athletic or oe oh gas
sports. Of the characters I like Frank, Dick, Dale, Brad B., Inza, By Be
Elsie, June, and Doris best. The new cover is a great improve- is
ment. Hoping to see this in print, as it is my first letter, I re- ‘:
main an admirer of “Tip Top” forever. MARGARET Purpy. : Si
Write again and tell us how you came to begin reading “Tip in
Top,” and what your brothers or boy friends think of it, a ze
: A
I have read your king of weeklies, “Tip Top,” from No. 475 | ~~ wh
_to the latest issue. I have also read ten and fifteen-cent Medals, } ‘yor
from “F. M’s. School-days” to “F, M’s. Club.” My favorites are up
Frank, Dick, Bart, Brad, Blessed Jones, Browning, Rattleton, and put
Diamond. Of the girls I like Elsie best. Next comes Inza, June, am
and Mable Ditson. aie Tast
'T have loaned my stock out to friends, and they say they are ~ dink
the “real thing.” + link
Some think that the Applause column is a fake, that the let- fk sho

ters are not written by “Tip Top” readers, but if my letter is

published I will be convinced that it is all right. I will watch

 

for my letter to be published, and hope that Burt L. is planning | — opir
to give us good stories in the future. I will close, wishing good | will
luck to Burt L. and S & S. May they live long and win fame | he ;

in their great weekly.
Waterbury, Conn. 7h a
We are surptised that aftér all we have said about the genuine |
character of each and every letter in these columns, any level- |
headed friend and admirer of “Tip Top” should continue to |
doubt. We shall publish no more letters wherein this idee is | LL
expressed, for we believe it is merely a clever scheme-to force |
us to print the letter, whether worthy or not. é Le

A Connecticut “Tip Topper.”

      
       
   
     
       
         
     

 

   

_ T have been reading “Tip Top” for a number of years, and —
can say it is the’“best what is.” I can hardly wait for them —
to come, After I read them I lend thent to a boy friend here. —
My favorites of the boys are Dick, Brad, Frank, Bart, Chester A., —
Claxton, and Young Joe Crowfoot, Of the girls, June, Doris,
Elsie, Inza, and Zona. June is the ‘girl for Dick. I am glad.
Chet has reformed, as he is a well-built lad. I have to go two
miles after “Tip Top,’ but I would rather go ten miles tha
miss the treat. Well, hoping to see this in print, I will clos
with three cheers for Burt L. and Street & Smith, © >
“ie Yours truly, An Aucusta REApER. ©
Augusta, Okla. , MS
You're all right, young man, and there can be no doubt about |)
your appreciating the stories Burt L. Standish produces each

week. ee halted

      
         
    
  

       
  
  

      
     

er
  

 

 

7 (A letter from the Gulf Coast.)
4 I have read the “Tip Top Weekly” for some time, and think
a it is the best weekly in the world. I like Frank, Dick, Brad, and
1M Bart the best. I think the new covers are the best thing that
Recs could happen to “Tip Top,” and we must thank Street & Smith
for them. I am going to buy all the Frank Merriwells in the
Medal Library. 1 am reading No. 383, and mean to speak a
good word for “Tip Top” whenever I can. Mr. Standish, “Tip
Top,” and S. & S. have loads of.friends in the South.
Wishing Burt L. a long and happy life, I am,
A SouTHERN “Tip Topper.”

‘Thank you, my boy, and here’s wishing you ‘the same.

 

(A letter from Florida.)

As‘an old reader of “Tip Top,” I think I am entitled to a small
place in your Applause column, I like Frank and his friends
best. I suppose it is because I read about him first. I have been
reading the Merriwell stories ever since Frank entered Fardale.
ce I think the stories about Frank on the railroad were the best
ae ever published.

I read in “Tip Top” No. 584 about Cap’n Wiley’s death. I

 

> “was very sorry to hear about it, as the captain was a great
_ ie favorite of mine.
) I lend out my back numbers to friends.

What has become of Harry Rattleton?

T. As this is my first letter, I will close. I have never seen a
/ letter in Applause from this place. Would like to see this in
}. — print soon. I remain, a true-blue “Tip Topper,”
Henry Houston.

 

a. Harry may bob up serenely at almost any time. Sorry we are
unable to comply with the request you make in your postscfipt,
|» ‘but we are entirely cleaned out of the “Tip Top” post-cards.

e ot

i. I take great pleasure in writing to the Applause columns of

such an interesting weekly, and I heartily thank all who labor

>. | in the task of making “Tip Top” appear in such nice form, from

Pp ) BL. S, S. & S, and all the rest that are connected with the
|) printing of the best weekly, I am so proud to call “Tip Top.”

_— I would just like to say a word to that Indianian, A. C. White,

} — whose letter was in No. 584. I am satisfied, Mr. White, when

_ ‘you and I and the rest of the interested “Tip Toppers” make

up enough more of its readers to join the éndless chain for the

purpose of enlarging the subscription of “Tip Top Weekly,” I

am satisfied that there will be more improvement, such as the

_ last volumne with regard to the cover. If we already have a

link in that chain, suppose we add a few more to make that

 

 
  
 

link stronger. If any of you ever made a chain in a blacksmith-)

shop you know that the more links you make the easier it is
to make them. Just put your whole heart and soul into your
, work, and it only takes a few minutes to make a link, and my
_ opinion is that if all “Tip Toppers” will go hand in hand we
will be equal to Rockefeller—when he wants to benefit himself
__he adds to the price of oi], when we want to benefit ourselves
we can add to the circulation of “Tip Top”; by doing so we will
continue to receive additions to “Tip Top”,as the publishers
gee fit, which always has been satisfactory to its readers, and

   

_ the way I feel for one as to “Tip Top.” I congratulate Mr. B.
_ L.S., he certainly knows how to make me enjoy the stories. I
was sorry to hear of Mr. Wiley’s death.

    

I always enjoyed him

   

 

fact, wherever he appeared he was one that always made fun;
and in time of trouble he had a way to make them forget it
and be happy. I could praise all the characters of “Tip Top,”

  

of your space. I am a lover of “Tip Top.. ELMER GarpNER. ©

_ Denver, Colorado,
A characteristic boy’s letter, full of genuine enthusiasm, and
with considerable shrewdness besides. Elmer knows how to
make “Tip Top’s” circulation jump, and he is going to do his
hare of the work, all right.

  
  

 

  

Top,” I take the liberty to write these. lines,
_your weekly several years ago in my native State, Mississippi. I.

  

vas I read about Frank first.

| rea I think the stories about Frank
ing in the Mad River League are the most interesting stories

, ’

   

   

 

TIP TOP

ot heartily believe always will be. I don’t suppose you will find |
room for this, but I write it so that the publishers may know —
so much; he always was the life of a ball-game or party; in |

- fountain, feel a
_ but haven’t time, and I fear I have now taken up too much’

ern friend. I hope Dunc will reform for his sister’s sake. When |

Having read a great number of your famous weekly, “Tip —
Started reading —

ike the Frank Merriwell stories better than those about Dick, —

  

J { } {
zt , }
#5 fi

WEEKLY. 29

  
  

  

{ have ever read. By the way, I hope Dick marries June Arling-
ton, and Dale, Madge Morgan.,

Hoping to see this in print, and also a character from Missis-
sippi appear in the stories, I remain, a loyal “Tip Topper.”

St. Louis, Mo. VINCENT LEONE.

We refer your request to Mr. Standish.

 

(A letter from Nebraska.)

I have been a member of your circle for. six years, and I
cannot say enough for it. I have gotten lots of young people
to read it. Say, will you try and dig up a few “Tip Top” postals
for me? I will pay for them. I think Frank is the highest type
of an American, and Dick, too; in fact, I like the whole. bunch.
Well, I hope this will appear in print. I close, with three cheers
for B. L. S. and all the rest.: Yours forever,

R. F, McCarrny.

Sorry, but the post-cards are entirely gone.

 

(A letter from Southern Florida.)

Having been a constant reader of “Tip Top” since two years
ago, I find it is the best story an American youth could read.
Among all other publications it is the best; not only this, but it
shall be more in time to come—it shall be as great as a diamond
among other stones.. Mr. Standish deserves great credit for
such an undertaking as this; he also has a very good head to
write such fine stories. I think he is the best I have heard
about. He arranges it in such good way that the boy who reads
one of these books will continue until he can’t get any more, or
else they stop from being published. It is so good that the reader
thinks he is in the presence of Dick and Frank Merriwell when
they are in school, and can also see the trails of Frank and Dick
and their partners. Dick is known among readers of “Tip Top”
as a hero and beloved by all. The picture on the cover is so fine
that the reader thinks he is on the field enjoying the baseball and
football-games, pone that the readers I have secured will
write to you and tell what they think about the weekly, and with
my best wishes to Mr. Standish and Street & Smith, and all
readers of “Tip Top Weekly,” having done my best to secure
many readers, with a friendly greeting to Frank and Dick Merri-
well and partners, your friend. I remain, a loyal “Tip Topper.”

Franx Gutto.

All of which we'consider as ample evidence that Frank’s en- e
thusiasm was at the boiling-point when he wrote this letter.

 

oF

(A letter from Ohio.) — Tye

Being a faithful reader of “Tip Top” for over five years an
_ having written several letters, I will now try once more. One’
thing in regard to increasing the sale of “Tip Top,” I think I
have found the only way. Every week when you have finished
our number lend it to some friend to read. Do this until he is
interested—and this won’t be long—then kindly advise him to
subscribe for it. Some one will next ask, What do we get for
doing all this? I will tell you. You will increase the sale of
the paper. We all love and admire the magazine that is brim-
ming with love, adventure, and school life, all that is dear to the
hearts of young and old; then you may get your name in the
Roll of Honor; that is prize enough for me. With best wishes
to Burt L., and Street & Smith, 1 remain.
Harvey A. EVeRHART.

And you will find it there, along with other friends to “Tip
Top,” faithful. and true, who, having tasted of this life-giving _
eat desire to lead their boy friends to the same _
ever-flowing spring, that their thirst, too, may be quenched,

t

    
 

 

 
    

. (A letter from Mississippi.) Agi tion

I have just finished reading No. 584 of the king of weeklies; and
can hardly wait until the next number arrives. I like the whole —
crowd, but Dick best of all; than comes Bob Claxton, my South-_

will we hear from Frank again, and also Chester Arlington? i
I am doing my best to get others to read the king of weeklies. I
will close, a continued success in business to 5S. & S., anda —
long life to Mr. Standish. . XX. Waccener. c

‘In due time, my boy, you will hear more about Frank and —
Chester. And depend upon it there will be something doing
when that story appears. — PER tee oh tetnty ee Tree ee

 

 

+8

    
    
 
  

    

     
    
   
      
        
     
    
  
 
   
    
  
   
  
    
   
   
 
 
   
    
   
  
 

 

 

 

 

(A letter from Illinois.)
Pror. FourMen: Having been a reader of “Tip Top” ‘since it
was first published, I will now take the liberty of sending you my
_measurements and of asking you a few questions. My measure-
ments are as follows: Age, 22 years; height, 5 feet 8% inches;
weight, 165 pounds; neck, 1532 inches; biceps, 11 inches; forearm,
1034 inches; chest, normal, 37 inches; expanded, 40 inches; waist,
32 inches; thigh, 2134 inches, INDIAN.

You are well built. Use dumb-bells and Indian clubs to keep in
condition,

 

(A letter from Texas,)

Pror. FourMEN: Having been an almost constant reader of
“Tip Top” for the past 3 years, I take the liberty to ask a few
questions: My age is 16 years 4 months; my height, 5 feet; chest,
normal, 31% inches; expanded, 3554 inches; biceps, normal, 1034
inches; expanded, 11% inches; calves, 13!4, inches; waist, 32
inches; neck, 1436 inches; weight, about 127 pounds. I have’ only
two bad habits, smoking cigarettes and staying up late. Please
tell me what weight dumb-bells I should use;

Hooty Happican.

Use one-pound dumb-bells. Give up smoking or your lungs
will become affected. Get 8 hours sleep every night.

 

(A letter from Indiana.)

Pror. FourMEN: Having been a reader of “Tip Top” for a
long time, I take the liberty of asking a few questiens. I have
asthma and I am short-winded, which I think comes from that
cause. My measurements are as follows: Height, 5 feet 1 inch;
weight, 90 pounds; chest, 2814 inches; waist, 28 inches; neck, 12
inches; calves, 11 inches. A Loyar “Tip Topper.”

Consult a physician for your asthma.

 

Pror. FourMEN: I am 18 yeats old; 5 feet 11 inches in height,

and weigh 144 pounds. How can I take on more weight? Just
before going to bed at night I take light exercises. Is that all
right? I am kind of thin, so I would like to broaden out a bit.

When I go out in the cold my hands and nose turn red. How -

far should I walk at, night, for I work inside all day? I dtink
plenty of water every day. I have tried to drink hot water. I
am a great smoker. I get over 10 hours sleep every night. Is
that too much? I have been growing very fast for the last 3
years. I would like to see a few lectures on physical culture.
I know others would. Ph RANK HALL.
Boston, Mass.

Continue the light exereisc. Walk three miles each day. Drink
six or seven glasses of cold water, between meals, every day.
Do not try to drirk hot water, Smoking keeps you thin. Sleep
only eight hours. ‘

 

- Pror, Fourmen: T take an interest in the measurements of
other boys described in “Tip Top,” I would like you to tell me

how I rank. Age, 16 years; height, 5 feet 7 inches; weight, 144 \

pounds. My right bicep is 1134 inches; left, 11 inches; forearm,
ee Ei 7 Ke i “ a it be \ td

   

 

 

 

 

11 inches; chest, normal, 35 inches; expanded, 38 inches; neck, | i
14% inches; waist, 30/2 inches; calves, 1334 inches; thighs, 2034 |
inches; wrist, 7 inches. .1. How do my measurements compare
with other boys of my age: 2.1Is my wrist too large? 3.
Should I weigh more? B. H.
OQakland,. Cal.
1. Your measurements compare favorably with other boys |
your age, e
2. Your waist could be larger. ‘ie,
3. Your weight is all right.

 

 

(A letter from Ohio.)

Pror, Fourmen: As I have been a “Tip Top” reader for
over. four years, I would like you to pass judgment on my
measurements. They are as follows: Height, 5 feet 11 inches;
weight, 165 pounds; bicep, 13 inches; expanded, 15 inches;
waist, 32 inches; chest, 39 inches; expanded, 42 inches; forearm,
13 inches; thighs, 22 inches; wrist, 8 inches; neck, 15 inches; —
calf, 15 inches. How does my weight correspond with my meas-
urements? Youne SaNnpow.

Your proportions are very good. It would be well, however, 3
for you to try to take on a fewmore pounds to increase your
weight a little.

 

' (A letter from Alabama.)

Pror. Fourmen: As I am a constant reader of “Tip Top,” and
an everlasting admirer of Burt L. Standish, I take the liberty of
asking your advice concerning my physical condition. My meas- —
urements were taken while stripped. I am 15 years of age; —
height, 5 feet 6 inches; neck, 15 inches; \chest, 31 inches; ex-
panded, 35 inches; waist, 30 inches; thighs, 22 inches; calves, 1414
inches; biceps, 13 inches; wrists, 7 inches; weight, 150 pounds.
I take a lot of interest in boxing. Do you think I could become
a good boxer? I take a general course of training at our gym- —
nasium. Are cubebs injurious to a person’s health? Soh ae

ROBERT RANGER, —

       
 

Train to reduce your weight a few pounds. You ought to de- |
velop into a good boxer if you train properly. Why smoke —
cubebs, why smoke anything, if you wish to become an athlete,
and every one knows that smoking is injurious to one’s health? |

      
     
     
 

 

    

    

‘

  

(A letter from Massachusetts. ) 7 ba

Pror. FourMEN: Having read “Tip Top” from number two —
huridred, I take the liberty to ask you a few questions. My age
is 13 years; height, 4 feet 11 inches; weight, 99 pounds. What |
weight dumb-bells should I use? A “Tip TOPPER.” 4

Use two-pound dumb-bells.
”

     
 

  

 
  

  

        
   
 

 

   
  
  

   

_ Pror. Fourmen: Being one of the army of “Tip Toppers,” T
take the liberty of asking your advice on the following: About
six months ago I was using a stiff-leg exercise for developing

  
 
 
 

 

 
         
       
       
       
     
    

 

the calves.and thighs, and awoke one morning to find the insid
of my right calf swollen and badly discolored. I consulted

     

     
Bie Te

  

. physician, who said I had strained a tendon and advised me to
sg give my legs a rest. I did so, and the swelling disappeared. 1
did not exercise them for a month, and then I took up running.
Now, if I run even half a mile both my calves get very sore
on the inside, about four inches above the ankle-bone. I have
tried massaging them, but it doesn’t seem to do any good.

I second the motion made by Ernest Knoll in 580 regarding
lectures on various sports in your department, on running espe-
cially. A BEANEATER.

Boston, Mass.

Your leg did not have sufficient rest to recover its normal con-
dition. It will be necessary for you to give up running for a
number of months. Keep off your feet as much as possible during

the period of recuperation, and put vourself under the care of
a physician.

 

 

(A letter from Arkansas.)

I am a boy 15 years old and weigh 130
I am very clumsy, and would like to know how I
could get rid of it. My measurements are as follows: Neck,
12%4 inches; chest, normal, 30 inches; expanded, 33% inches;

es Pror. FourMEN:
| pounds.

 

 

kK, 4 : height, 5 feet 4 inches; biceps, 9% inches; calf, 13 inches; thigh,
v4, } 20 inches; knee, 14% inches ; waist, normal, 25 inches; expanded,
re EE 20% inches. EARL JoHNSON.
3 vA Take vigorous exercise like rowing, long-distance running, and
| bring down your weight. Then boxing and bag-punching will
} give you the necessary quickness to get rid of the awkwardness
af ‘you complain of.
Pror. FourmMen: I have been reading “Tip Top” for a long
time and think it the best weekly [I have ever read. I am 17
) _years.old; 5 feet 8 inches tall; and weigh 125 pounds. I have
| what the boys here call a chicken breast, and I am trying very
__. jhard to get it so it will not look that way. I go to. a gymnasium
a 7 ~=every evening and stay about an hour. I use everything that
nY )  -they have. After seeing a wrestling-match here a few days ago
=e every boy has gone crazy over wrestling. We wrestle every eve-
ee ning. I want to know if that will do me any good; if not, what
+ will? “SALARY,”
er ‘Columbia, South Carolina.
7 Do not let the “chicken breast” worry you, as it will not in-
ean  terfere with your health. Wrestling is excellent exercise. Get
: a volume of instructions and read up on the different “holds”

 

our i srl
: _ before engaging in this vigorous sport. :

 

(A letter from Connecticut.)
Being a reader of the “Tip Top Weekly,”

 

Pror, FouRMEN:

 

WEEKLY,

31

*

inches; expanded, 3414 inches; waist, 27 inches; thigh, 21 inches;
calves, 124% inches. BBE.

A few more pounds added to your weight meer improve your
general proportions.

 

Pror. FourMen: I am 15 years old, § feet 314 inches tall, and
weigh 105 pounds. . Iam very thin. 1. Could you. tell me how to
strengthen my arms, wrists, and hands, and broaden my shoul-
ders? 2. Is a cold sponge- bath every morning beneficial to the
body. 3. What time should I retire and rise? 4. What should
I do to become a good boxer and wrestler. Please answer this
letter in “Tip Top” as soon as you can, as I am very anxious to
follow your directions. E. G.

Pittsburg, Pa.

1. General exercisé in a well-equipped gymnasium will give
you the necessary development.

2. By all means take a cold bath every morning.

3. Go to bed at 10 o’clock and get up at 6 A. M.

4. Your gymnasium training will put you in the right condition
for boxing and wrestling.

(A letter from Illinois.)

Pror. FourMEN: Please consider my measurements. Am 20
years old; chest, contracted, 34 inches; normal, 36 inches; ex-
panded, 39 inches; waist, 32 inches; hips, 30% inches; neck, 14%
inches; right bicep, normal, II inches ; expanded, 13 inches ; right
thigh, ‘at 1% inches; left calf, 13% inches ; aon. 6 feet 1 inch;
weight, 150 pounds. . S. Bartow.

Eat plain wholesome food, keep regular — and take’ lots
of gymnasium work, as you lack weight and are not proportioned
as well as one of your height ought to be.

 

(A letter from West Virginia.)
Pror. FouRMEN: Being a reader of “Tip Top,”
to ask a few questions. My age is 15 years. My measurements
are: Weight, 108 pounds; height, 5 feet 234 inches; neck, 13
inches; chest, normal, 32 inches ; expanded, 34 inches; waist, 29
inches; biceps, 9% inches; calves, 14 inches. A “Tre Topper.”

I would like

tions. But a few months regular exercise will remedy this.

 

(A letter from Pennsylvania.)
Pror. Fourmen: As I am a reader of “Tin Top,” and have
been for a long time, I take the liberty of asking a few ques-
tions. I am practising for a pitcher on a baseball-team, but

whenever I throw a few swift balls my arm pains me so i can

hardly lift it.
stop the pain?

Can you tell me what the cause is a what will
Frep L. JENKINS.

 

  

Your trouble is lack of weight and absence of right propor- : ie

    
 
 
  
 

 

        
    
   
   
    

of | I take the liberty of asking you a few questions. Here are my é
eas- | measurements: Age, 16 years; height, 5 feet 534 inches; weight, A tendon in your pitching arm has been strained, and the only
ges 120 pounds; neck, 13% inches; biceps, normal, 9 inches ; -ex- way to relieve the pain this condition causes you is to stop using
ex- E ponent, 104 inches; forearm, 9% inches; chest, normal, 32. =the injured member until it becomes entirely well.
fh
Tip Top Baseball Tournament Is Now Open. /
The two teams which, at the end of the season, have the highest average—the members of vA o .
which play the greatest number of games, score the most runs and have lost the least number of _ ee
games, will be declared the winners. Of the two winning teams, the one having the higher ~ re ies aad
average will be declared the Tip Top Championship Team of the All-American > . ae
| Baseball Tournament for 1907, and will receive a handsome pennant bearing an 7 ee ae
ci appropriate device. The two successful clubs in 1906 were the “Unions” of Hawthorne, “@/ $f
Te N. j., and the ‘‘Athletes” of Circleville, O. Each winning team will receive a full ALES SS
What equipment for nine members, consisting of trousers, os ean anos and ‘ % A ie ew
oe cap. Is this not worth working for, boys? ae 3 Ce Re ee , rad
ae heer
Le DON’T FAIL TO SEND IN YOUR COUPON AT ONCE. if f fig wee oa
Neout q No notice taken of any score not entered on a coupon. Coupons == /*
oping x4
inside

 

 

   
 

    
 
  
 

 

  

  

a be properly made out. One coupon for -- game. é 4 A os we ‘dee +
 

wen

 

ISSUED EVERY FRIDAY

 

Te ie ee ae x
PRE ea re eae eae a a

een lee mn lage tern ee

TOP

 

HANDSOME COLORED COVERS

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

ing in this weekly.

Mr. Standish has a world-wide circle of friends and

he is putting forth his best efforts to amuse and entertain them. Boys,

you have no idea of what a grand feast he is preparing for you,

Tip

Top’s stories are going to astonish you.. Do not fail to buy this weekly.
PRICE FIVE CENTS PER COPY

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

 

 

HERE ARE THE LATEST TITLES:

557—Dick Merriwell’s Running; or, The Meet at Me-
chanics’ Hall,

558—Dick Merriwell’s Joke; or, Fun with the Jumping
Frenchman.

559—Dick Merriwell’s Seven; or, The Scrub That Made
the Regulars “Go Some.”

560—Dick Merriwell’s Partner; or,
Texas.

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

lars at Water Polo.

The Boy from

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 Merriweil’s Talisman; or,
Cocheta.

565—Frank Merriwell’s Horse;
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.

509—Dick Merriwell’s Silent Work;
Hand for a Foe.

570—Dick Merriwell’s Arm;
the Tricksters.

571—Dick Merriwell’s Skill; or, The Prince of the Pistol.

ainanr Merriwell’s Magnetism: or, The Curing of a
Cad.

The Charm of

or, The Boy Who

or, A Helping
ot, The Trick that Fooled

If you want any back numbers of this publication and cannot procure them from your news- _
dealer, they can be obtained from this office direct. |

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

     
 

 

 

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.

570—Dick Merriwell’s Party; or, Springtime’s Youthful
Fancy.

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

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

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

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

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

Hard Proposition.

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

583—Dick Merriwell’s Disadvantage ; or, The First Game
with Harvard.

584—Dick Merriwell Beset; or, The Revenge of Quinn
Harvester. »

585—Dick Merriwell’s Great Rival; or, Dale. Sparkfair
on the Slab.

586—Dick } Merriwell’s Distrust;
Blotter.

587—Dick Merriwell, Lion-Tamer; or, Ate, Queen of
the Air.

588—Dick Merriwell’s Camp-site; or, The Peril at Pine |

Point.

589—Dick Merriwell’s Debt; or, Settling the Score With

Smoketown.

Postage stamps taken the same as money.

or, Betrayed by a |
 
J

ba enn Fe iar one hE See Py roar - — =
ae " ee CR eee ee Ce ee Oe ee

 

 

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

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—F rank
189—F rank
193—F rank
197—F rank
201—F rank
205—F rank
209—F rank
213—Frank
217—F rank
225—F rank
229—F rank
233—F rank
237—Frank
240—F rank
244—F rank
247—F rank
251—Frank
254—F rank
258—Frank
262—F rank
267—Frank
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—F rank
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
352—F rank
356—Frank
359—F rank
362—F rank
365—F rank
368—Frank
371—Frank
374—F rank
377—F rank

NEW

380—F rank
383—F rank
386—F rank
389—F rank
392—F rank
395—F rank
398—F rank
401—Frank
404—F rank
407—F rank
410—Frank
413—Frank
416—F rank
419—Frank
422—Frank

Merriwell’s Duel.

Merriwell’s Double Shot.
Merriwell’s Baseball Victories.
Merriwell’s Confidence.
Merriwell’s Auto.

Merriwell’s Fun.

Merriwell’s Generosity.
Merriwell’s Tricks.
Merriwell’s Temptation.
Merriwell on Top.

MEDAL LIBRARY AT 15c.
INCREASED SIZE

Luck.

Mascot.

Reward.

Phantom.

Faith.

Merriwell’s
Merriwell’s
Merriwell’s
Merriwell’s
Merriwell’s
Merriwell’s Victories.
Merriwell’s Iron Nerve.
Merriwell in Kentucky.
Merriwell’s Power.
Merriwell’s Shrewdness.
Merriwell’s Set-back.
Merriwell’s Search.
Merriwell’s Club.
Merriwell’s Trust.
Merriwell’s False Friend.

Published About August 19th

425—F rank

Merriwell’s Strong Arm.

Published About September 9th’

428—Frank

Merriwell as Coach.

Published About September 30th

431—Frank

434—Frank

Merriwell’s Brother.

Published About October 2ist

Merriwell’s Marvel.

Published About November 1ith

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