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Lssued Weekly. By subscription $e. 50 per year, Entered as Second-class Matter at the N. Y. Post Office, by STREET & SMITH, 79-89 Seventh Avesue,
N.Y. Entered according to Act of Congress tn the year 1907, in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, Washington, D. C.

No. 589.

ick Merriwell’s Debt; |

SETTLING THE SCORE WITH SMOKETOWN.

 

By BURT L. STANDISH.

 

CHAPTER I.
MOMENTS OF DANGER.

After their frightful struggle for life, they :ay there

resting and regaining their strength upon Thunder

Bluff, Dick and his enemy, Brian Blackpool, son of the

hard-handed, heartless master of Smoketown. Far

below them, at the foot of the bluff, the rock-torn,
raging sea roared with a sullen booming sound. The
eagles, to visit whose nest Dick had lowered himself

‘by means of a rope into a position of great peril, still

circled near the forbidding face of the bluff, their shi-
ning eyes watchful, as if expecting their human ene-

mies would make another effort to capture and carry

away the young eaglets. White sea gulls soared and
cried with lonely eeriness above the restless bosom of
the open sea. Far against the horizon a white sail or
two showed scarcely larger than a sea-gull’s wing.

Alone and venturesome, Dick had lowered himself
by means of a stout rope which dangled over the verge
of the cliff. He had reached a narrow ledge on which
he could stand and where he could peer into the nest

NEW YORK, July 27, 1907.

Price Five Cents.

of eaglets hidden in a sheltered niche of the rocks. He
had ‘been attacked by the old eagles, but this had
seemed a minor peril, for above him Brian Blackpool,
having traced him there, had shouted exultantly and
displayed an open knife with which he threatened to
cut the rope. ee .
Had Blackpool carried out his threat, Dick Merri-
well must have fallen into the sea and been dashed to
death by the powerful waves which were beaten into
hissing, foaming spray against the cliff. :
But in the moment when Blackpool seemed on the ©
point of severing the strands the ground gave way
beneath him, and he was carried, in spite of his des- ’
perate efforts, over the brink. As he fell he managed _
partly to turn so that his feet were downward and with —
his left hand he clutched at the rope. Clinging for
dear life, heedless of the burning, blistering pain as
the hemp tore through his fingers, Brian slid down.
down until he was clutched and held by the lad whose
life he had threatened. | | ee
Then he fell upon Merriwell to save himself and res-
cue his enemy. ‘This he accomplished by knotting the

  
 
 
 
 
  
 
  
 
  
  
 
  
 
 
  
 
  
 
   

 

 

 
 

  

  

rope beneath young Black
‘top of the Bluff, and

pool’s arms, climbing to the
afterward laboriously drawing

  

Brian up.

  

And now Blackpool, realizing he owed the preserva-
tion of his life to the lad he had despised and hated,
having regained his

 
 

breath, protested brokenly that he
had merely meant to frighten Dick by threatening to
sever He
this, and seemed immensely

  
 

the entreated Merriwell to believe

 

rope.

   

gratified when he received

    

the assurance that it was believed.

   
 

Silence fell upon them once more. Blackpool lay
prone upon the ground, with chattering
teeth, as he again lived through the horror of the last
half-hour. Finally he raised his head again and met
the gaze of Dick Merriwell, whose dark eyes were
searching him. as if seeking to read the truth in his
hidden

r

  
 

shuddering

  
  
    
   
  
    
     
    
    
 
   
  
   
  
  
   
   
   
   
     
  

For the first time Brian realized the
penetrating quality of those remarkable magnetic eyes.

soul.

_ hide no secret which those eyes would not have the
_ spower to search*out. He recognized likewise the un-
usual strength and manliness of the handsome face be-
fore him. It was not the strength of obstinacy that
persists against reason in afioteds to a wrong pur-
_ pose, but it was the strength of him who investigates,
who decides what is right and will not: thereafter be
turned aside from the course he chooses to pursue.
Mere obstinacy and persistence in what one knows to
be w rong is the weakest kind of weakness, but deter-
_ mination to cling fast to that which has been proven
right proclaims the strength of character that always
_ makes the possessor a leader among men and a con-
~*~ queror.
Brian Blseipenk: had an obstinate nature, but, be-
ing the son of a rich father who was often obstinate
to the point of great injustice toward those weaker
than himself, he had been reared in a way that was
; far from beneficial. and was not calculated to pro-
duce a just and gencrous disposition.
This day, however, young: Blackpool had | been
taught a great lesson, and one ‘he would not soon for
ee ‘get. After precipitating himself into such peril
through his own malicious desire for revenge upon the
lad he hated, Brian Blackpool had hung there upon
‘the face of the cliff fearing with a great fear and more
than half-believing with a soul-benumbed horror that
‘Merriwell would retaliate. This fearsome dread had
growrt with each passing moment after Dick mounted
e rope, and vanished over the brink of the cliff.
rian knew it would be beyond his strength and skill
feiate Dick's feat. At first he had feared Merri-
a / i

    
    
  

4

 

Of a sudden he was convinced that his heart could’

TIP TOP WEEKLY.

well would sever the rope and let him fall. After a
time he became convinced it was the boy’s intention
to leave him hanging there, half-way down the face
of Thunder Bluff, until he should perish from ex-
posure, exhaustion, and hunger.
For who would find him there? No one in Smoke-
town knew that on this afternoon he had set out to
visit the camp site of the boys at Pine Point and spy
upon them. No one, save the lad he had hated, knew
how he had tracked Dick to that bluff on the northern
shore. away and kept still, hours,
days, weeks might pass ere searchers would learn the
f Shout as he

tate

Merriwell went

of the Smoketown magnate’s son.
might, his only answer would be the cry of the angry
eagles, the wail of the sad white gulls, and the roar of
the rock-shattered waves.

His horrified imagination pictured himself as dan-
gling there, growing weaker and weaker, fainter and
fainter, until he was no longer able to lift a hand to
beat those angry eagles off. It pictured them as dart-
ing at him and tearing out his eyes with their sharp
beaks. It pictured them as feeding his torn flesh to -
the young eaglets in the nest néar-by.

Then, after he had passed through all this soul-
racking anguish, the lad he hated had dragged him up
the face of the cliff to safety.

“Thank you,’ said Brian Blackpool humbly, when |
Dick had answered that he did not believe the Smoke-
town lad ever really intended to cut the rope and thus
to commit murder, . “I meant to frighten you as much
as I could, I thought it would be a jolly good way
to get even with you. You know I was nasty sore.
over what you did in Smoketown yesterday. I didn’t
care so much because you knocked out Mike McTeague
on the wharf, although that feat of yours astonished
me; but after you threw me into the water, when I
attempted to whip you, I vowed I’d never quit until
I had repaid the debt. I swore I’d make you beg and
whine and cringe to me. I realize now,” continued
Brian, “that | misjudged the sort of chap you are. I
realize now that I cut out a big task for myself. I
don’t faney you’re the kind any one could easily in-
timidate into cringing and begging.. What can I do
to show you that I’m grateful ?”

“Your hand is bleeding,” said Dick quietly. “Let
me bind this handkerchief about it.” i

For the time, Brian had forgotten the injury to his 4
left hand, but now he realized that it was. smarting
with a terrible burning pain. He permitted Merri-
well to tie the handkerchief softly about the injured
member. een | eee

  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
   

1g

ball here?”

you did for me to-day.

Dick at once.

muttered Brian. “That hand

‘Iam sorry. I

“That’s hard luck,”
will be knocked out for some time.
can’t play baseball.”

“Baseball?” said Dick. quickly. “Do you play base-

“Oh, yes, we have a team in Smoketown.”

“Whom do you play against?”

“Lobsterville, most often, although we sometimes
get teams from other places outside. Oh, yes, we
have a hot nine in Smoketown, and we always trim
everything we go up against.”

“That’s rather interesting to me,” said Dick, with

a smile, “for we expect to have a baseball-team of our

own at Pine Point. <A lot of my friends have prom-
ised to join me there, and there’ll be nine of tis, at
least. We might bury the hatchet after this, Black-
pool, and enjoy some good, healthy summer sport by
participating in a few games of baseball.”

“That’s right,” answered Brian, wondering a_ bit
that Merriwell should make such a proposition, “but
I’m afraid my father isn’t going to let you remain at
Pine Point.”

“Perhaps your father will not be able to help him-
self,” said Dick promptly. ‘“We’ve received permis-
sion from the owner of that point to camp there, and
there we propose to camp. We likewise propose to
defend our camp from all enemies, in case we are
forced to that extremity. At this very moment, Black-
pool, Casper Steele has a loaded cannon, watched by
an expert gunner, who has instructions to fire on any
one who attempts to molest us. I wish you to know
this, in order that you may tell your father and warn

others in Smoketown who may be inclined to give us

trouble.”

“T'll do so,” said Brian, managing to sit up at last,
and moving his position until he could lean his back
against the trunk of the small tree to which the rope
had been attached. “I'll do it, Merriwell, and I give
you my pledge that Ill use every influence in my
power to keep the gov’nor quiet. I’ll tell him what
That ought to cool him down

somewhat. That’s the only way I see to square the

debt, old fellow.”

 

CHAPTER II.

PLAIN TALK.
“There’s another matter I wish to speak of,” put in
“We don’t fear your father so very
much, Blackpool. Without doubt, you fancy this
foolish on our part, but we believe we can take care

TIP oaOPr WEEKDS: a 3

that family who seems at all.able to face -the world

- position.

     
   
    
   
  
  
   
  
     
  
  
    
   
 
  
  
  
   
  
   
  
    
    
  
  
   
   
  
    
   
  
  
    
  
  
   
     
  
        
     
 

of ourselves if driven to do so. There are others,
however, who are not in such a fortunate position.”
“You mean

 

“I’m referring to Adam Blair and his family. I’m
also speaking of Roger Holmes, who had the courage
to give the Blairs shelter when your father had them
evicted from their home and their household goods
cast into the street. Adam Blair is ill and helpless.
His wife does not look very strong. His son is a

cripple, having lost one leg. The only member of

1

daughter.

6

s Agatha Blair, I presume you

oe her?”

Adam's «

“Do I?” cried Brian quickly, something like a queer
smile flashing across his face. “I should say I do.
She’s a peach, Merriwell. She's the prettiest girl in
Smoketown, and I’ve had an eye on her for some
time.”

Jick shrugged his shoulders, seized by a sudden
unpleasant sensation which these words had produced.

“Even she,”’ “is ina painful and desperate
At the present time she has no father to
give her the protection of his strong arm. She looks
like a sweet, innocent girl, and her condition should
appeal to the manhood of any one. I hope you feel  ~
that way yourself, Blackpool.”

he said,

Brian looked at Dick as if he did not quite compre-
hend Merriwell’s meaning. ;
“Oh, I guess Agatha is all right, he said, aftera
few moments of pondering silence. “She’s all right
Of course, she comes of rather poor

~~

in her way.
stock.”
“What do you mean by that?
garded as disreputable?” |
“Oh, not at all; but they’re poverty-stricken. Old
Adam Blair is simply a common day-laborer. I believe
he did have a little better job than most of the men,
and was getting somewhat better pay, but he was
chump enough to espouse their cause when they got.
the notion that they were ill treated and ground down —
by the lime company. That showed a lack of sense —
on his part. I’ve heard my father say privately that —
Blair was a pretty good man. Of course, he never
told this to Blair himself. If Adam had applied to.
the gov’nor for a raise, and had offered to use’ his
‘influence to keep the rest of the bunch quiet, I believe
the old gent would have come up with the cash.”

“Evidently, Adam Blair is not the kind of a man
who will sacrifice his fellow laborers for his own ad
vancement and profit,” said Dick. “I admire that in

the man.” | i

Are the Blairs te-

  

  

  

   
    

 
     
   
  
  
  
    
   
  
  
  
  
   
  
  
   
   
   
   
 

FIP TOP

“These self-sacrificing people
out for other folks are the
It’s the motto
Ine, and let

“Rot!” cried Brian.
who are forever looking
ones who generally get left themselves.
of my father to look
everybody else go to the dickens, and

3 out for Number
a mighty good
plan it is for any one to follow in this world.”

f “That’s the way you regard it, but it’s a selfish plan
cr to Blackpool. No man ever secured complete
= contentment and happiness by such selfishness. ‘The

man who keeps all the sweet things of life for himself,
and refuses to share them with others, soon cloys of
bs them, and they turn bitter upon his tongue. ‘There
is no greater pleasure in life than to share one’s suc-

follow,

cess and prosperity with one’s comrades.”

“T swear I don’t know what you're talking about,”
muttered Brian Blackpool, again surveying his com-
“{ don’t know where you ever
They’re not the
‘successful man

panion wonderingly.
got such queer notions into your head.
. of Lavan Blackpool, or any
a. I’ve ever seen.’
- “Then your knowledge of successful men must be
somewhat limited. Perhaps your definition of success
would not be my definition. To me success is not
merely the accumulation of dollars and the piling up
of we ealth, I've known successful men who were
' poor.” ,
“Poor?” exclaimed Brian—‘poor and successful ?
a Never!”
_ Dick smiled.
“Ts it possible you’re not aware that there are men
of great. attainments, men of great minds and great
: - accomplishments, in this world who have never found
time to make money? ‘This is true, Blackpool. Why,
even our college professors, meh fitted for positions of
Pegs trust by “the development of their natural talents,
spend their lives in laboring for the good of others,

notions

 
 

  

money-reward for their work. These men, Black-
pool, are successful, but they can never become wealthy
through their own efforts. There are thousands of
- others, explorers, sciéntists, naturalists, scholars, the
‘finest minds i in the world, who are in the same boat.”

“You may be right,”
‘not successful men—I hold to that.” |

i “They get more out of one year of their lives ‘than

  

#

    

  

‘ise aie themory wil be echihils Who honors,
venerates, and: loves Lavan ct

 

 
 
  

vand receive what in these days is a mere pittancé as a freely and without any conditions

you had threatened mine.
admitted Brian, “but they're :
— father may ever get out of his whole life, Black- |

‘Who, ae

~ lettly.

WEEKLY.

the people of Smoketown will have kind and loving

words for him when he lies in his casket, Brian?”
Young Blackpool looked baffled, as he slowly shook
> >
his head.

“T've never thought anything about it,”
“T don’t believe my old man would care
a rap what people thought about him after he coughed
up the ghost. That isn’t his way. He doesn’t care
what they think of him now.”

“It’s true, I presume, that he doesn’t care. He fol-
lows his selfish way through life and fails at every
step to realize what life means. But enough of this.
It’s queer we should find ourselves talking like this
after what has happened. Once more let me urge you
to do what you can to make easy the lot of Adam
Blair and his : You should have some influ-

ence with your father.”

knowledged.

family.

“Oh, I wouldn’t dare chip into his business. He'd
call me down quicker than you could wink. But T’Il
look after Agatha, all right, all right. Leave that to
me, old chap. I know a good thing when I see it.
I fancy she’s a bit afraid of me. She's always. dodged
me more or less, but just now, if she got good, I
might be able to give her a little assistance on the
quiet. The old man generally

supplied with cold cash, and I wouldn’t mind nee

Agatha with a few dollars.’
Merriwell’s eyes flashed as he rose to his feet.

“You'd better not try that, Brian Blackpool!” he.
I’ve looked into her ,

cried. “I’ve seen Agatha Blair.

innocent eyes, and I know she would spurn such a

proposition.”

“Would 1 she? Why, I understand she didn’t spurn
your money when you offered to pay the rent for her
father.’ ge

“That was different,” avowed Dick.
you—and I think
Blackpool, I saved your life a short time ago, after

that cliff and landed you here, with the solid ground
beneath your feet. But let me tell you something.

If I had dreamed that you bore the slishtest evil in-
tention toward Agatha Blair, if I had suspected this
as you hung dangling below on the face of Thunder _
Bluff, P'd let you hang there until doomsday before I re

would have expended an ounce of strength in) your
rescue! Do you understand cat,

- Blackpool had risen.

“T’m not quite a dummy,” he anehaee a bit sist |
“How can I help understanding it, Merriwell? —

 

he ac-

keeps me pretty well

“T offered it~
If I understand
do—such is not your purpose.

I drew you up the face. of |

 

 

 

 

        
     
       
       
     
       
   
     
     
     
        
     
       
    
     
     
    
       
     
       
        
    
 

PA

 
  
 

 
    
      

 
  
TIB. DOP

Sie See: s

But you're silly, old chap. ‘You’ve got your head full
of some sentimental, romantic notion in regard ‘to that
girl. She’s nothing but the daughter of a common
laborer. If she had a father with the proper standing
in the world, I might have a different feeling toward
her. Why, yes, by Jove! I might shine up to her
openly, don’t you know.: As it is, I couldn’t do that.”’

“As it is, because her father is poor, you entertain
the most contemptible intentions toward the girl. You
a heard what I said about rescuing you. Well, I’m go-
| ing to say something more. Blackpool, if you harm
a hair in the head of Agatha Blair, I’ll do my best
to find a method of making you curse the evil impulse
that led you. That’s plain talk, but I mean what I
say. Come, now, I’m going to pull up this rope and
return to Pine Point. Go your way, and Ill go
mine.”

PR Src Ea

CHAPTER III.

THE TRUE AMERICAN.

Another night passed, and Lavan Blackpool sent no
} men from Smoketown to molest the party at Pine
a Point.

Ets On the following forenoon the Wavelark once more
steamed boldly into Smoketown harbor and dropped
anchor. ‘Again the little tender bore the three boys
toward the Eastern Pier, on which, at the time of
their first visit, Dick had been forced into a hand-to-

hand encounter with Mike McTeague, “the Smoke-
town Terror,” and the son of Lavan Blackpool.

“T wonder if we'll be ordered to keep off to-day ?”

|. speculated Steele, with a laugh. ‘“I wonder if Mc-

_ Teague, the wharf-tender, will be looking for another

dose of the iron medicine he received the last time
we were here.”

4  ~—s “I._ hope. not,”

» further trouble.” |

“I’m not particularly anxious for "8 partner,” said
- Buckhart, “but still, it does break the monotony and

_ keep.a fellow’s blood from stagnating.” |

4 Ba Monotony seemed to be the thing most. dreaded by

BG the Texan.

“There’s some one on the wharf,” aCe Steele, as
he observed a human figure. “I believe it’s Mc-
Teague. Look out for squalls, boys.”

But, although it was McTeague, the fellow failed

to make a move or open his mouth to warn them off.

When they Janded at the float and mounted the stairs,

they found Mike sitting on a box, whittling a piece of

pine with a long-bladed knife, chew ape aad

said Dick. “I’m not anxious for

          
    
  
    
  
  
   
 
   
   
   
   
   
  
   
  
   
   
  
  
    
  
  
   
    
   
   
 
 
 
   
   
 
   
  

WEEKLY. } s

looking very ugly. He gave them a savage scowl,
but still made no offensive move, and they passed on.

Buckhart chuckled under his breath.

“That gent seems to be digestitg the last square
meal you handed him, partner,’ he said, “and, judg-
ing by his looks, it doesn’t agree with him a whole
lot. He certain don’t love us much.”

Dick said nothing. He was thinking it probable
that McTeague had recently received orders from
Brian Blackpool. Of course, Dick had told his friends
of the adventure at Thunder Bluff, but he had failed
to go into details in regard to the conversation between
himself and young Blackpool which had followed the
escape from that great jeopardy. Nevertheless, he
himself had meditated mtich on Brian’s words. What 3
troubled him most was the thought of Agatha Blair
and the seeming peril that threatened her while she
should remain in Smoketown.

These three daring lads had again ventured into the _
lair of the lion, in order to discover if there were yet |
any answer to the messages Dick had sent to his 3
friends. For this purpose, they proceeded directly :
to the telegraph office, where, to their pleasure, they és
found wires awaiting them from Earl Gardner, Chip
Jolliby, Tommy Tucker, and Big Bob Singleton. One
and all, this quartet gave the assurance that they could
come and would come without delay, and as fast as
modern methods of transportation might bring them.

 

“It’s not impossible that Gardner will be here this.
very day,” said Dick, his face aglow. “Dear old
Earl! I'll be delighted to see him again.” — |

“Delighted!” cried Buckhart. “I’m sure ready to
blow up now. The red-cheeked little rascal! The —
jolly-souled young scoundrel! Let me get my paws |
on him, and I'll give him a genuine grizzly bear a

“Tolliby and Tucker should not be so very far Pe
hind Gardner,” said Dick.

“Whoop!” roared Brad. “T can see old Chip now.

   

     
      
      
    
    
     
    
     

he’s able to spit °em out. Wonder if he’s taken on
any flesh? Wonder if he has fatted up those thin
legs and arms, I'll sure be glad to see Tucker again.
I’ve not had the pleasure-of his society recently, and
it’s been many moons since I eee my bic te -
ce? or Ome eeics

   

  

the journey,”’ murmured Dick.

“Oh, it always takes time es him to do anything, :
nodded the Texan. “He's so blamed deliberate z I
slow and) sak that he uses ae a ee of flying

 
 

  

Near enn cn a inametieem age Tor tare ee hea

 
 

 

   
  
 

  
  
  
   
  
 

  

 

    

Ti UEOr
ments and shining hours in accomplishing anything at
all.”

“T shall be yey glad to meet your friends
I’ve Steele. “If they're like
chums at Yale, I know I’ll take to every one of them.”
“They're white

Oh, we'll have
Hope you

whom

not seen,” said your

“You sure will,” assured Brad.
men, one and all, you bet your boots!
high old times at Pine Point this summer.
can linger with us, Steele, my boy.”

Pu

that the gov’-

“Hope I can,” nodded C be able to

asper.
linger a while, you know; but I’m aware
nor has other plans for me later on.”

“I wonder that we haven't heard
Claxton,” said Dick. ‘You
Obey would come, Brad.”

“Come! He'll tear his
hear me murmur!”

“And I talked with Claxton about it ere we parted
at New Haven. The Virginian was delighted with the
idea of coming north into Maine to spend the summer.

from
seemed to be certain

shirt getting here. You

He felt confident his people would permit him to take
such a vacation.
founded.”

[ hope his confidence was not badly

“I hope so myself,’ said Brad heartily. “There
didn’t cotton to that gent a great deal,
but that was before I came to understand him. Now
I rather take to his style. We're both Southerners,

you know, but he comes from the eastern part of the

was a time I

South, and I come from the western, and therefore
we're some different in our ways. He’s a_ heap
smoother than yours truly, but when he sets out to
back up his smoothness by actions, he steps into it
with both hoofs. He’s rather hot-blooded and touchy,
and I opine he did have some narrow ideas about the
North and the South; but he was broadening out right
_well, and the time won’t be delayed much when he'll
become a full-blooded American citizen, recognizing
the wholé country as his nation, regardless of the
points of the compass. You were the one, partner,
who fathomed that gent and discovered that he was
built of the right timber, sound and solid from foun-
dation to ridge-pole.”

“T’ve found, as a rule,” put in Steele, “that the

people of the South are rather more sensitive than ’

the people of the North. They may criticize indi-
vidual members of their own community, but let an
outsider do so, and they raise.a rumpus at once.”

“Not all of them,” declared Dick. “In the North
a man recognizes the fact that a person of his own
locality may be a coward, a rascal, a sneak, a hero, or
a benefactor of all humanity, and yet may not be

 

   

Tubbs or”

, horse,” laughed the Texan,

WEEKLY.

typical of the North. When we discover thé typical
American. the true patriot, we shall find a man who
no East, no West. He
may be born either north or south of the old Mason
He may be born either east or

knows no North, no South,
and Dixon’s line.
west of the Mississippi.
prejudices, but he will live to root them from his soul

He may be born with local

and cast them forth, and in his place he will nourish

the seed of true Americanism.”

“T know the man!” cried Buckhart positively. . “I
.

know the man, and his name is Frank Merriwell!

There’s your true American!”

CHAPTER IV.

BRAD BESTRIDES A BUCKER

As they came forth from the telegraph office, Brad
Buckhart ees and gazed with interest at a young
man who was riding a genuine Western bronco up and
down the street. The rider was attired in garments
strange and seldom seen in that village upon the Maine
He wore a wide-brimmed Stetson hat, a
a handkerchief knotted about his neck,
spurred genuine cowboy

sea-coast.
woolen shirt,
high-heeled,
“chaps.”

boots, and

On the narrow sidewalk in front of one of the stores

a crowd had collected to watch the riding-exhibition.

“Waugh!” exclaimed Brad. “Who’s this gent, I
wonder? By his garments, I should say he had lately
broken loose from the range, but garments don’t make
the cow-puncher.”’

At this moment the bronco began bucking, but the
rider clung fast to the animal’s back, eliciting a round
of applause from the villagers.

Brad grinned.

“Trained bucker,” he said.
him to go through those stunts.

snatural bucker once, but he’s been broke a-plenty.”’

“The man seems to be a good rider,” said Steele.

“He'd be a good rider of a lady’s gentle saddle-

“Put him on a genuine
unbusted brone, and you'd see him landing on his ear
in about two seconds.”

“The gent has taught

The boys walked on and mingled with the crowd.
They were recognized by several of the Smoketown-

ers, but there was no move to molest them. -

“Rip suttinly has become a jinttine cowboy,” said
one of the spectators. “Who'd ever thought it of
him? [can remember when he was a little, dirt-nosed
runt livin’ down to the South End. He was the laziest

I opine he was a -

Staal pty 2d ein WE ii

5 tad

”
Loo Batata ene apelttintionts
ee aia ote tN

sets

 

 

 
     
    

 

  
     

    
       
     
 

i
y

ae:

Ri cbse kona spatiiooth sta eit ort same

—

BK ttiiseccet ”

 

them busters a hundred

from the artificial.

enough money will get any of ’em.

 

TIP
kid I ever see. Why, his old man couldn’t git no
work out of him. All Rip would do was chaw. to-

backer and read Injun stories. Old man Gordon had
his troubles with that boy. Why, he uster larrup Rip
almost to death. Nobody ever expected the kid would
amount to nawthin’, but when he was sixteen years
old he jest up and runs away and goes out West some-
where. Now he’s come back a reg’lar cowboy, with
one of them Western buckin’ hosses, and they do say
he’s been a-travellin’ around the country with Buf-
falo Bill’s Wild West

“Let him tell it!’ put in another citizen.
he’s come back to Smoketown he’s

Show.”

“Sence
told more amazin’
yarns than he could print in ten books the size of the
Bible. Why, if all the things he tells about had hap-
pened to him, he’d be older than old Methuselum his-
self,”

The cowboy now reined up in front of the crowd
near the sidewalk, where he could pose and the people
of the little village could gaze at him admiringly.
“That’s
I don’t s’pose it

“You're the real thing, Rip!’ cried a man.
a purty tough hoss you’ve gut.
would be no easy job for anybody else to ride him.”

“T should say not,” laughed the fellow called Rip:
“Ride him! Well, | should like to see somebody try
it. I’m the only man who ever straddled this hoss.
Yes, sir! And I traveled all last season with Cody.
You know he has a bunch of bronco-busters with him,
and they ride the bucking hosses at every performance.
Didn’t none of them ever succeed in ridin‘ Blazes,
though. One day Cody hisself offered any one of
dollars to straddle Blazes.
That was some inducement, and there was three of
‘em tried it. The fust one had his collar-bone busted,

the next was pitched against a fence, and didn’t know.
nuthin’ for two hours, and the third one attended his
own funeral the next day.

There warn’'t nobody else
ever tried ridin’ this hoss after that, except myself.”

”

“A right interestin’ yarn, sure,” murmured Buck-

hart, laughing softly.

“You don’t believe it?” questioned Casper Steele.
“None whatever. I’ve seen a few genuine buckin’
cayuses in my time, and [ opine I know the real thing

ploys the best bronco-busters that money can get, and
Every day those

fellows ride broncos a hundred times worse than this
critter,
about that.

They ride genuine buckers, and no mistake
I have my doubts if this gent ever more’n
saw the inside of Buffalo Bill’s Wild West Show.

TOP WEEKLY. =)

-bucker before.’

for a moment or two, during which the fellow sat —

Further than that, Bill: Cody em-_

 
      
  
   
    
  
   
  
 
   
    
 
   
   
   
  
   
 
   
   
   
 
   
  
  
 
 
 
 
 
   
   
  
  
      

When he did see it, I opine he sat among the specta-
tors who had paid their gate-money for the privilege.”
Brad’s words were overheard by one or two of'the
crowd, and immediately one of these called to the cow-
boy on horseback:

“Hey, Rip! Here’s a chap that sez your buckin’
hoss is a fake! MHere’s a chap that thinks youre a
fake yourself! What have you gut to say to that?’

Rip’s eyes found Brad and regarded him with de-
ristve contempt.

“Who says it?” he inquired. “That feller?
what’s he know about buckin’ hasses?”’
great deal, partner,
people who know

Well, 35
“T sure don’t know a " answered
Brad quietly. “I opine there are
more about them than I do.”
“Well, I guess so,” was the answer, with,a sneering
laugh; ‘“‘and A. don’t spose you ever saw a geauine

“Maybe not,” admitted the Texan, “and then again,
maybe I have. But I don’t just fancy that. there
cayuse of yours is a genuine bucker.”’

“What? What's that? Well, you make me laugh!
What do you think I’m ridin’? Do you think ['m:
ridin’a hobby-hoss? Do you think I’m ridin’ a Shet- ‘
land pony? Look here, my knowin’ young friend, I
want to tell you somethin’.” ; 3

“Go ahead,” invited Brad interestedly.. “If you can —
tell me anything, I shall be a heap surprised and grate-
ful.”

“T want to tell you that you or any one else here
couldn’t ride this hoss a rod.” :

“You may be correct, partner, but Ihave my doubts —
some about that.”

“Why, you chump, do you/think 1 ees ride
him?”

“T’ve got a sneaking nition percolating round in my
gray matter that I wouldn't find it such a mighty does ;
cult job, my friend.” ee

At this Rip simply roared, slapping his leg’ with a
his hand, and causing the bronco to jump. and pitch 5

 

easily and gracefully in the saddle. |
“See that!” he said. “Why, you "d be off now.
You'd have a broken neck, perhaps.”
“Perhaps I noes, but you can’t make me believ
it by oS me so.’ .

      
     
  

Blazes fr ron? here to the Pinewood “House,” ‘dives :
the exasperated owner of the horse. “Now. o
ane hat do you say to that ?”

  

    

  

      
   
TEP TOP WEEE Y,

Brad. “Get out your loose change, and prepare ‘to
make good with it. I think I'll try the critter a go.”

“You don’t realize what you're doing, my fellow.
You'll be killed, sure as fate.”

“Never mind that, Rip,” called one of the greatly
interested spectators. He’s
one of them fellers that came here and kicked up some
Nobody round here

“He's a stranger in town.

trouble day before yisterday.
will miss him if he does git his neck broke.”

“Come down off your cayuse, partner,” invited the
Texan, stepping out from the sidewalk. “If you
want to see me ride the gentle beast, just pull your
hoofs out of the stirrups and turn the animal over to
me. I’m going to try for that hundred. I can use

the money.”

“If you're going to try,’ said Rip, as he swung
down to the ground, “go ahead and take your medi-
cine.”’

The Texan, like Dick, was dressed in summer out-
ing-clothes, instead of the yachting-suit he had worn
when he made his first appearance in Smoketown.
On his head he wore a straw hat. Without removing
hat or coat, Brad gently grasped the bridle-rein, and,
with a single bound, landed in the saddle.

At the same instant Rip whistled shrilly through
his teeth.

That whistle seemed to turn the horse into a bucking
demon. The creature reared and plunged, leaped and

/ turned, twisted and pitched in the most startling man-
ner. 4
Buckhart’s feet had found: the stirrups, and his
knees were locked fast to the sides of the horse. In
the midst of the animal’s furious gyrations, the Texan
dropped the bridle-rein upon the creature’s neck, took
6ff his straw hat, and wrenched a shout of amuse-

ment and admiration from the crowd ‘by coolly be-

ginning to fan himself.
“Look at that!”
“Great smoke!’’
“See him fan hisself!”’
“He ain’t even holdin’ onto the reins!”
““Acts jest like he was in a rockin’-chair !”
“That beats anything !’’
“Hooray! hooray!” bellowed a big man. “That’s
what you call ridin’! I guess that feller knows his

business! I guess he’s been there before! Rip better

git ready to fork over that hundred dollars!”
_ By this time the entire crowd was in a gale of
laughter and applause. The entire crowd, except Rip
uimself, who first looked amazed, then bewildered,

posed to cease its furious efforts, Rip again whistled
shrilly through his teeth.

Away shot the animal down the street with a ter-
rific clatter of hoofs. Some rods he went in_ that
manner, suddenly stopping short, as if turned to
stone.

Instead of pitching forward over the animal’s head,
the Texan stopped and sat fixed in the saddle, as if
he were a part of the creature he bestrode.

Again, Rip whistled. Again the horse renewed its
efforts. It leaped into the air and turned squarely
round, with its forward feet where its hind feet, had
been. It pitched “fence cornered” from one side of the
street to the other. It bounded into the air, humped
its back, and came down  stiff-legged. Finally it
as if shot and sprang up in a moment; but

dropped the rider landed upon his feet, and

dropped
when it
when it rose the rider rose upon its back.

The spectators roared with admiration.

“Best show I ever see in my life, by gorry!” piped
an old fellow, waving his battered hat in the air.
“If I had any money, I'd bet every cent of it on
that feller. Ain't he a ripper! Ain’t he a dandy!”

Brad was now speaking softly to the horse, and,
rein, he drove the
House,

with a firm, steady hand on the
animal down the street to the Pinewood
turned there, and came galloping back, to halt in
front of the crowd and leap lightly to the ground.

“T’m sure a whole ‘lot disappointed, partner,” he
said, addressing Rip. “I allowed maybe your horse
could pitch some, but the critter seems to have lost the
knack, if he ever had it. It’s a shame to take the
money for such an easy job; but, as I before re-
marked, I can use it, so maybe you'd better hand it —
over.” :

The infuriated “cowboy” seized the reins, thrust
his foot into the stirrup, and leaped to the animal’s
back.

“You go to the devil!” he snarled, giving the horse —
the spur and riding away down the street.

CHAPTER V.
AGATHA’S PERIL.

“Hey, Rip! Here! Hold on! Come back here

3ut the disgusted owner of the bucking horse paid
no heed to these cries from the crowd:

The men of Smoketown now crowded around Brad,
many of them eager to clasp his hand. They were

”

: then furious. When the bucking horse seemed dis- loud and ardent in their congratulations.

 
 

. Dilltwitter,

“T don’t

said one.

spose Rip has a hundred dollars to his
name, ” “You should have made him put
up, young feller.”
“That's all right,”
mean to take his money, anyhow.

grinned the Texan. “I didn't
As I think I said,
it was too easy.”

“Tt certainly did seem easy for you, but I guess it
wouldn’t have been very easy for some people. By
Jove! that hoss did kick up!’

Brian Blackpool, together with his friend, Foss
had witnessed the greater part of the
affair. Dilltwitter had almost choked with amaze-
and “My

7

ment, and was still gasping “My starth!”
goodneth !”’ 5

Agatha Blair, on her way from the village post-
office, paused irresolutely, for the sidewalk was blocked
by the crowd.

Immediately, Brian Blackpool, wearing a bandage
upon his left hand, stepped out and called in a com-
manding way :

“Here, you men, make room!”

They moved aside that she might pass, and’ Black-
pool improved the opportunity to act as her escort.

Dick Merriwell’s attention being absorbed by Buck-
hart’s performance, he had failed to observe Agatha
until Brian took possession of her in his authorita-
tive manner. Dick watched them, a look of dis-
pleasure on his fine face.

When Brian had accompanied her until the crowd
was left behind, Agatha attempted to dismiss him with
a few words of thanks. }

“Oh, that’s all right,”
“Tt was a pleasure to do you a favor,

he said lightly, as he smiled
upon her.
Agatha.
circus performance that they failed to notice you.”
“Thank you again, Mr. Blackpool,” she murmured
“I’m all right now. I must. hurry

Those chumps were so excited over the

in a low tone.
home.”

“but I think I'd
better see you safely on your way, my dear girl.
Just at present Smoketown is in a somewhat disturbed
condition, and some of these foreigners are liable to
make trouble for

“You're all right,” he agreed;

the natives. They’re ready to fight

in a minute, and they regard the laboring people of

the place as their natural enemies.’’

99

“They'll not fight with me,” said ‘Agatha. “They'll
not molest a girl in broad daylight if she is going
about her own business.”’

“Don’t you think it. Don’t you be too certain.
You're a mighty pretty girl, Agatha, and just now it
isn’t any too safe for you to be seen on the streets un-

MI gd OE,

     
        

  

   

WEEKLY. 9

    
    
  
   
 
  
   
   
   
   
  
   
   
    
  
   
   
   
 
    
    
  
  
  
 
   
   
  
    
   
  
   
   
     
   
   
 
  
       
   

accompanied.. Oh, it’s all right. I’m going right
along with you. Come on, my dear.”

He attempted to take her arm, but she drew away,
and started onward with hasty steps. He strode for-
ward, keeping at her side. 4

Behind them some of the witnesses laughed.

At this the girl’s face flushed painfully.
ease leave me. Please
Don’t you hear them laugh-

      

““Please,’’ she entreate

Mr. Blackpool.

 

go back,
ing?”
“Oh, I hear them. What of it? Let them laugh.” |
“But you don’t seem to understand. You don’t
seem to realize the position in which you are placing
me.” a
“Understand? I understand that I’m offering to
see you safely home.” \
“Ves Dut"
“But what?” he Sm, as she faltered.
“Tt isn’t proper.’
“Proper? Id like to know what there is improper
about it.”
“What made those men laugh?”
“Why, I suppose they were amused because you
tried to shake me.” fal
“No, it was not that, Brian Blackpool,” she breathed.
“Can’t you understand what. you’re doing? I’m the
daughter of a poor man—a day-laborer. You're the
son of Lavan Blackpool, w ho owns almost everything
in Smoketown. Why should you take an interest in
me? Why should you trouble yourself to act as my

escort ?”

 

“Because,” he replied, still laughing, “you're a
deuced pretty girl. Because you’re just about the
prettiest girl I know.”

Instead of being flattered by his words, she gave |
him a flashing glance of resentment. .

“Those men back there—they understand,” she :
said. “They know the difference between your position _
and mine. We’re still in sight: of them. I beg you
to turn about and retrace your steps.”

 

“And have the whole bunch giving me the ha-ha!
Oh, I wouldn’t think of it, Agatha, my dear.”

“Please don’t call me that. ~Please don’t speak to

me that way.” | Cee
“On my word, you actually seem afraid of me.”
eT arm.” f : 3

“What! Well,
Why?”
“Oh, I don’t know.

that’s a joke. Afraid of me?

i can’t tell.”
io TIP TOP

. brine herself to tell) Efer cheeks were still burning
hotly and her heart fluttered wildly.

by “What foolishness, Agatha!’’ he said.
_ person in the world you should be afraid of.
Lavan Blackpool is my fath

with your father, but you mustn't think that

**I’m the last
True,

he

I approve

i of everything my old man does, even though I’m his
f son.”
: “If nothing else will influence you,” she said, “let

me urge upon you that you’re doing something that
would make my father very angry if he knew.”’

# - “Tf he knew? Well, then, what’s the use to let him
=, ‘Atnow?”
: “Ah, but he will know. I couldn’t keep it from

him.”

“T’d like to know why not.”

a “T’d have to tell him.”
o>. .-\“Bosh, Agatha! That's
and easy, my dear. Why do you tell him everything
you do? Now you may be sure that I don’t do that
with my old man. Not on your life! If I did, I’d
fave him on my neck lots of times. It’s a foolish
plan to be forever running to one’s folks and telling
them everything that happens. You may be certain

they never did it with their parents.”
“My father and my mother are my best friends. I
- realize that I’m young and inexperienced. I realize
that I need’ the advice of those who are older and
better informed in the ways of the world.”

“Now, you’ve had that drilled into you by your
people. , ve had the same ridiculous bosh preached
-atme. Don’t you know that the ways
are not our ways? They can’t look at things in the
same light that we do. They’re a lot too prim and
careful about every little foolish thing. It’s queer
how people get that way as they grow old. whey
seem to forget they were ever young themselves.”

“It might be different if it were not for the fact
_ that you're the son of re Blackpool and I’m the
om daughter of Adam Blair.”
~ He misunderstood these words, and they aiflen, him
with a sudc den feeling of exultation.

3 “Oh!” he sated

 

   
    
  
     
    
   
    
 
   
 
  
   
    
   
  
  
   
   
 
 

where you're dead soft

‘then you agknowled Ige ae m8

  
   
 
  
  

   

ae of a sie man. ‘Let's ae hart that.”; 3

“Oh, I can’t fareet it. Besides; that was not ex-

  

 
  

ose circumstances, ik might 5 ie mea little.”
“f Py didn’ t mean that,

er, and he has had a clash’

of older people .

I don’t believe I would. Lam.

WEEKLY.

afraid of you, Brian Blackpool, and I arn sure I could
never like a under any circumstances.”

“Well, Just the same, I’m not
going to 5 it put me down and out. You'll find I’m
Really and truly, obstacles simply
arouse me to the point of sticking the harder and
You don’t know much about me.

hat’s a body-blow.
a stayer, Agatha

overcoming them.
[’ve been away from Smoketown a great deal.
You’ve lived here nearly all
I remember you as a little barefooted girl,
ever I wasn’t so very

been away at school.
your life.
with the finest eyes | saw.
old at. that time myself.”

“But you were not barefooted,” she said. “You
always had shoes.”

“Oh, yes.
and run barefooted like other kids,

she’s you know—wouldn’t let me.

Sometimes I did want to take them off
but my mother—

dead, She insisted

that I wear shoes as a badge of distinction, as a badge ©

of social difference between myself and the other
kids who had poor fathers and mothers. Funny, but
I can remember looking down with a sort of disdain
on the barefooted class, with the single exception of
that one pretty, brown-eyed girl I spoke of.
how, I never could seem to regard her in the same
manner as I regarded the others.”

Agatha’s cheeks were still burning.

“You’re—you're a—a fine talker, Brian Blackpool,”
she said, “but that only makes me all the more afraid
of you, You must understand that you’re getting me
into trouble, for my father will know of this, and he

He’s ill. I don’t wish to disturb him.”

Brian shrugged his fine shoulders.

will be angry.

“I’m afraid he’ll be disturbed by something else be-
fore long,” he said. “Unless some one intetfers in
his behalf, ’'m afraid my.gov’nor is going to make
it very uncomfortable for your father and for Holmes,
who took you in. By the way, where is Holmes?”

“He’s gone.”’ :
“Gone?”
¥RS,.

“Gone where?”

“Away somewhere to look for another job.

month is up. There is no further hope of work here
for either Mr. Holmes or my father. Mr. Holmes.
went away to see if he could not find something to do
somewhere by which he might earn a livelihood.
Father is a little better. We hope he'll be quite sttang
before Roger Holmes has to move out.”

' “Well, it’s rather rough on you, jiftle girl, thik tun

  

I’ve |

Some-_

He

knows your father will put him out. as soon as. his

 

 

eee

 

 

 

         
 

     
  

 

 

TIP TOP

pleasant business here in Smoketown. But why the
dickens did your father go in with the strikers?”

“Because he felt that their cause was just.”

“Yes; but he had no reason to complain about him-
self. If he had, he might have come quietly to my
gov nor and put it up to the old man to do better by
him. If he’d done that, if he’d kept away from the

others, I’m sure father would have fixed it.”

“But he couldn’t do that.
by the others.”

It was his duty to stand

“It was his duty to stand by them and ruin himself
and his family, was it?
ous, Agatha!

Oh, come, that’s preposter-
Just see what he’s brought you all to.

Just think that to-day he might be holding down his_

old job at better pay if he’d had a little good sense and
diplomacy.”

“Holding down his job at better pay, with all his
friends and neighbors out of work and destitute!” she
exclaimed. “My father would never do a thing like
that. As soon as he is strong enough, we shall leave
smoketown—we shall go away forever.”

Brian frowned and looked troubled.

“Now, see here,” he said; “I don’t want you to do
that. We’ve got to fix this thing up somehow. You're
a bright, clever girl,
education.

and you’ve had a pretty fair
I believe you have a natural bent for
[ve heard you play on the violin once or
twice, when I happened to be passing near your home.
I have seen your writing, and you write a beautiful
hand. Now, I'll tell you what. I have an idea. I
have a proposition to make. I'll intercede with the
goy’nor in your behalf. I'll get you a position in ‘his
office, and I’ll see that you’re well paid—mighty well
paid. Ill -see that you have a snap and get good
money for doing very little. You'll be able to take
care of your family for a while, for I'll do my level
best to induce the old man to let up on your father,
and by and by, when this strike business has blown
over, your father will be able to get his old job back.
Now, I think that’s a pretty good idea.” :

music.

To his surprise, she shared none of his enthusiasm.
Tnstead of that, with her face still flushed, and some-
thing like growing terror expressed in it, she hur-

_riedly cried:

“Oh, no, I couldn’t do that!
proposal is—is—an insult!”

He whistled his astonishment.

“An insult? How do you make that out?”

“Why, I—I can’t tell you; but you must know it
is. How could I repay you for such favors? How
could I rr

Brian Blackpool, the

 

WEEKLY. | It

_a match, and began to smoke.

She stopped short, choking, for she

      
  
    
  
  
   
  
  
   
  
   
  
   
   
  
  
  
     
  
  
  
   
 
      
  
   
   
  
   
 
   
  
  
  
 
 
  
   
  
   
  
   
   
  
    
   

realized that she was inviting him to make his mean-
ing still plainer.

“That'll be all right,” he hastily said.
to think of me as one you dislike.
smile now

“Just cease
Just give me a
Just let me walk home with
you occasionally when you go down to the post-office
for your mail. Just let me .

“Stop!” she flashed. “Pll hear no more, Brian
Blackpool! Never! Never in this world would I
make such a bargain with you! I hate you and des- |
pise you and fear you more than ever before in all
my life, and I’ve always hated and despised and feared
you! Don’t ever, ever speak to me again, for, if you
do, I shall cry for help. Oh, if I could get away
from Smoketown, I’d go at once, this minute! When
I do go I shall be glad, glad, glad!’’

And then, ere he could put out his hand to restrain
her, she sprang away and ran like a frightened deer.
He was tempted to pursue her, but, realizing the folly
of it, he stopped short in his tracks, and watched her
until she fled through a sagging gate and disappeared
amid some dusty lilac-bushes at the rear of Roger
Holmes’ cottage.

Brian stood there some moments, his hands in his
pockets, a frown on his face. Finally, he produced
a cigar-case, selected a weed, bit off the end, struck

~

and then.

 

wt nits 3 EM sat

“Well,” he muttered, “it’s a harder proposition than
I thought, but, on my word, it makes me all the more
eager to pull the game off. I'll do it, too! Tilfinda
way, or my name isn’t Blackpool!”
Then he retraced his steps with a jaunty air, lightly

whiffing at his fragrant cigar.

 

 

CHAPTER VI.
THE ICY MR. M’KAY.

Agreeing to meet his friends at the Pinewood ~
House, Dick inquired the way to the home of Roger
Holmes. He was misdirected, and found himself
upon the wrong street, but a weary-looking, slatternly
woman, who was caring for several dirty, boisterous —
children, informed him that he could reach the
Holmes house by making a short cut across lots.
Having received directions from this woman, Dick
took the short cut.

As he approached the rear of Roger Holmes’ dena
house, he was surprised to come unexpectedly on a
figure that lay face-downward upon the grass near
some lilac-bushes.

 

   
       
      
  

TAA DOP

“Agatha!” he breathed, stopping short and gazing
in surprise at that prostrate figure.

£ She moved and lifted a startled, tear-wet face.
i “Oh, oh!’ she murmured, in great confusion,
7’ '=you here!”

“I beg your pardon,

“vou

Miss Blair,” he said gently.
“T came across from the street yonder, and discovered
I wished to speak with you ere
am intruding “s

smoothing her

_, you unexpectedly.
¢ leaving Smoketown; but if I
ee ‘She rose as quickly as she could,
+ dress and hastily drying her tears.
“After what you did for us, you could not intrude,
Dick . Merriwell,”’ said, her voice tnsteady.
“Father has spoken of you many times—and little
Tom, too, Tom thinks you’re the bravest person in
all the world. -But I don’t know why you should take
so much trouble about: us. We are poor folks,
and
“You are very unfortunate in having to deal with
a man like Lavan Blackpool. How is you father,
Miss Blair?”

 

she ’

 

 

 

we'd never see you in Smoketown again.’

ey did you think that?”

“Because I did not believe Lavan Blackpool would

_ permit you to’ enter the place.”

Dick smiled. .

“Blackpool is only a man,” he said.’ “He is a man,
itis true, who bids defiance to law and justice, and is
disposed to crush the weak and helpless, but he has no
right to forbid any one w valking the open streets of
_ Smoketown.”

  

“It’s not a question of right,” she returned. “With
: * bin it is a question of might. He was dreadfully
angry with you for interfering when we were put out
of our poor little home. I was afraid he would do
you harm ere you could leave Smoketown.” ,

 
 

“And you risked your own safety to warn us. That
was very brave of you, and places me in your debt.”
“Oh, no, no!’ she exclaimed quickly. “We are a
hundred times more indebted to you. But. for your
courage in facing Blackpool, Roger Holmes might not
_ have dared to take us in. You aroused the men who
seemed overawed and terrorized by Blackpool. They
all helped us as much as they could. Many of them
ave contributed food or money for us Since we've
been here. Mr. Holmes is: away, you know. He left
wn, to look for work elsewhere. We must all go

  

 
 
 

  

 
 

 
 

et I will be.

“He’s getting better, but, oh, so slow ms I thought -

ay from this place, and the sooner we go the hap-
‘Oh, I wish we might go at once, this,
: you anything—he’ll be furious with me.

  
  
   
    
   
   
   
 

WEEKLY.

There was no question about it, for the fear she a
felt betrayed itself plainly in her face. ae
Dick thought of Brian Blackpool and their talk upon 4
Thunder Bluff. He wondered if this girl realized the

Sid a ch

 

real peril that threatened her.

“Possibly there is no reason why you should be so
apprehensive,’ he said, hoping to sound her in this
manner. “I saw you with young Blackpool a short 4
time ago. He seemed friendly toward you.” \ f

He ceased speaking at this point, for her agitation
and fear had become much more apparent.

“You saw him,” she murmured huskily—‘“‘you saw
him walking with me. I did not wish him to do so. fe
I begged him not to do so, but he insisted. I heard ‘
some of those men upon the street laughing behind my |
back,”

The hot blood had mounted to her face, and this was
enough to tell the boy that she was aware of the mean-
ing of the laughter that had reached her ears. For all
of her refined appearance, for all of her pretty face and
intelligent eyes, he had feared she was like many an-
other simple country girl, who would be flatteréd by
the attentions of a fellow of Brian Blackpool’s char-
acter and position in the world. Plainly this was not
the case, and Dick was relieved and gratified to know

   

 

    
          
       
     
       
     
   
       
 

the truth. ;
“So the fellow forced himself upon you, did he?” _
he muttered. ‘If I had known——”

 
 

“If you had known?” she questioned, as he paused.
“Well, I don’t think you would have been bothered
a great deal with Brian. If I had known that you
did not wish his company, I should have seen to it

    
   
      

that you were not forced to accept.”

“Perhaps it’s better that you did not know. He
would have been furious had you interfered. I've al-
ways feared that fellow, and now I’m actually in ter-
‘ror of him,”

“What did he do? What did he say?” asked oe
his blood beginning to grow hot in his veins.

“Oh, I can’t tell you,” she replied, again getting
crimson. |

     
   
   
    
    

“The dog!” grated Dick. “He should be given a
sound thrashing! I think I'll find it my duty to see
that he gets what’s coming to him.” .

 
      

At this Agatha stepped forward quickly, and
touched his sleeve with her trembling fingers. , |
“Don't,” she entreated—‘‘don’t get into further {

trouble with Brian Blackpool. You can do us no
good in that manner, and you may do us lots of harm.
If you make him\angry—if he realizes that I have told

It’s bad

   

     

   

    
     
    
     
     
    
       
  

  
 

 

 

 

   

  

LLP

 

TOP

Do not make it worse. We'll
Before many days I hope and pray

enough for us as it 1s.
not be here
e'll all be far from Smoketewn—far from the power
eartless father.”’

Has

long.
we
of Brian Blackpool and his cruel, h

“Has Lavan Blackpool threatened you again?
he troubled you since’ Holmes took you in?”

“He’s gone away. Business took him out of town,
for which we’re all very thankful.”

“Agatha! Agatha!” called a childish voice. “Where
are your”

“It’s Tommy, my brother,” she murmured.

Dick: spied the little fellow, who had come out the
back door of the house, and was now hopping toward

them as fast as he could with the assistance of his.

crutch.
“Where are you,
“Here, Tommy,”

sister?’ cried the tiny cripple.
she answered.

“Oh, come quick—come into the house! There’s a
man there who’s talking just awful to Mrs. Holmes.

12?

Come quick!
At this point the child saw Dick. Instantly his thin
face er up with surprise and pleasure.
“Oh, ” he breathed. :
to that tad man so bold.”
“Come Tom,” said Dick,

“Tell me what’s the matter.

Mrs. Holmes is afraid of him.

oh “Tt’s the one who talked

holding out his
Who’s in the

here,
hands.
house?”
“Tt’s a man with white eyes. I’ve seen him lots
of times. He was with the man who had us put out
of our home.”
“Oh, yes,”
gentleman by sight.
tary, McKay.”
Agatha was greatly alarmed at this.
“He has come to: turn us out again,’

muttered Dick. “I think I know the
It’s Blackpool’s private secre-

* she said.

} “What shall we do?’

“J think I'll go in and see the man,” said Merri-
well. “Mayn’t I do so, Miss Blair?”

“Oh, I nen know—I suppose’ so.
what to do.

“W
the cause of his unwelcome visit,’ said Merriwell,
leading the way toward the cottage.

Indeed, it was P. McGee McKay, who had entered
Roger Holmes’ house without knocking and without
invitation. Encountering Mrs. Blair, he had given
her an icy look'as he demanded to see Mrs. Holmes.

- She had come to him in doubt and dread, while

Adam Blair’s wife had hastened to her. husband in
another room. eth

1 don’t. know

e’ll decide what shall be done after we find out ~

  

WEEKLY 13
“Mrs. Holmes, I believe?’ said McKay frigidly,
eying the woman who stood before hun.
“I'm Mrs. Holmes, sir,” she maior gs:

\“T am here to give you notice.’

“Notice, sir—n aonige that we must move out when
our month is up?’ -

“Notice that you'll be put out this day unless you
comply with the orders of Mr. Blackpool.”

“But you can’t put us out. You have no right to
put us out. Our rent is paid in advance.”

P. McGee McKay smiled disdainfully.

“You'll Mr. Blackpool has the right whenever
he chooses,” he said, “I understand that your hus-
band has. sneaked.”

“Sneaked, sir? What do you mean?”

“T understand that he dusted out of Smoketown in
a hurry, after disobeying the orders of Mr. Black-
pool.”

“He’s gone away on business.”

What business has he to take him

find

“‘Business ?
away ?”’

“The business to find work that he may support oy

himself and his. family. Your master, Lavan Black-
pool—”

“My employer,” corrected McKay.

“Lavan Blackpool has refused to give my husband
further work here, where he has been employed for
so many years.” ae

“Nothing of the sort, madam. You women do not —
understand these matters. You’ve been fooled by
your husbands, who lie to you, every one of ’em.
Roger Holmes took part in the strike. He left his
job of his own accord. His place has been filled. He |
has only himself to blame, for he now finds himself ;
penniless and homeless. Mr. Blackpool is a just man. |
I do not say that he is a gemerous man, but he is just
—rigidly just. He was injured by the action of your
husband. and the others who were incited and led on’ —
by one Adam Blair, who is now beneath this roof.
Unless Adam Blair is turned out into the street within
two hours, the men will be here to evict you, Mrs.
Holmes; as he was evicted. Those are my orders
from Mr. Blackpool, and I always carry out orders.”

Mr. McKay attempted to assume a demeanor of
much importance and authority, which should great x
impress and awe the unfortunate woman.

In spite of her apprehensions, Mrs. Holmes fai
some courage left. Her weary eyes began to = ag
little, and she retorted defiantly : Chea ;

“Then we shall suffer eviction, for EF tt never |
Adam Blair to go!”

 

 

   
  
  
  
  
  
   
 
  
   
    
  
  
     
   
      
     
  
 
  

“Wait a bit, my woman,” said McKay. “Perhaps
you may change your mind after you hear something
further from me.”

“T shall not.”

“I say perhaps you may.

you will.”

    
    
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
   
  
  
   
   
    
  
   
   
   
  
  
  
   
    
 

SESE SE PO

In fact, I’m quite certain

words.

“For some years,’ continued Blackpool’s private
secretary, “your husband has been employed in
Smoketown. No one knew much about him, or his
record before he came here. Being a man of small
importance, no one has ever attempted to learn much
of anything about him—until recently. At the pres-
ent time Mr. Blackpool is in Bangor, whither he went
on leaving Smoketown. In Bangor he has found out
a few very interesting things concerning Roger
Holmes. He’s learned the particulars of one decidedly
interesting affair which took place north of the Katah-
din Iron Works some twenty years ago, when your
husband was a comparatively young man. I wonder
if you know about this matter? Judging by your
- looks, madam, I should say you do.”

For, as he progressed, the look of defiance had
gradually faded from Mrs. Holmes’ face, to be re-
placed by one of apprehension, which swiftly changed
to one of positive terror.

“T see you’ve heard of the Bill Seaver incident,”
sneered McKay.. ‘Possibly you fancied that affair,
which took place so many years ago, had been for-
gotten. Possibly your husband fancied the same. It
has not been forgotten, madam, and the shadow of it
still, hangs threateningly over Roger Holmes. Un-
less you comply with Lavan Blackpool’s orders and
put the Blairs from beneath your roof at once, your
husband will be arrested for murder the moment he
again steps foot into Smoketown.” 5

CHAPTER VIL.
MR. M KAY MOVES HASTILY.

This dread secret of the past, so long hidden in its
silent grave, had risen like a black monster, to threaten
disgrace and destruction. Covering her worry-wan
face with her hands, the wretched woman sank upon
a chair. —

McKay regarded her with gloating satisfaction.

“These are my orders, madam,” he said, “received
this day over the phone from Lavan Blackpool. As I
sfore stated, I always carry out orders. I fancy you

that there’s but one thing for you to do.

A frozen smile of confidence accompanied these:

>» and stumbled out of the house.

ta oe: TIP TOP WEEKLY.

I fancy you realize
You must

realize your true position at last.

order the Blairs out of this house.”

Followed by little Tom and Agatha, Dick had en-
tered by the back door, in time to hear these words,
and he now presented himself before P. McGee Mc-
Kay, his face marked by intense indignation.

“And now, sir,” he said, “let me tell you that there’s
just one thing for you to do. ‘Take yourself out of
this house instantly, or, on my word, Ill kick you
out !”’

‘“What——-what’s that?” gasped Blackpool’s private
secretary, in astonishment. ‘‘Who are you? What
authority have you here?”’

“The authority of a fairly strong right arm and a
pretty vigorous right leg, to which a foot is attached,”
said Dick. “I think you'll find that authority suff-
cient.”

“Why, you insolent young whelp, how dare
you——~”’

“Now stop—-stop it! If you again apply an offen-
sive name to me, I’ll not wait for ceremony, and I
may pitch you out of the window, instead of taking
the trouble to kick you through the door!”

“Hooray!” cried little Tom excitedly. “Tl bet he

’ can do it, too!”

“How dare you again show your face in Smoke-
town?” panted McKay. “How dare you again inter-
fere in Mr. Blackpool’s private business ?”

“Don’t stop to ask questions,” flung back Merri-
well, as he began to remove his coat in a businesslike
manner. ‘‘Don’t stop to make talk of any kind, un-
less you’re anxious to get your deserts in short or-
der.’

Mr. McKay retreated reluctantly.

“If you put a hand on me, you'll rue the day!” he
“I’m not to be bullied by an insolent

39

snarled.
youn !
He did not complete the sentence, for Dick strode
toward him, and, with ludicrous haste, McKay turned
The boy followed
him to the door and closed it after him.

 

“There,” hé said, returning, “I’m glad I didn’t have
to soil my hands on that snake. I always dislike to
touch a snake. Occasionally, however, the unpleas-
ant task is unavoidable.”’

“Jingos!” piped little Tom, “you made him git, and
he’s a full-grown man, too.”

“‘He’s full-grown, Tom,” said Dick, “but I wouldn’t
call him a man if I were you.’

“Oh, my boy, my boy!” sobbed Mrs. Holmes, “I’m

  
 
 

Baie

 

 

   

    
 

it

 

 

Ti? siOor

afraid you have done us no good! He will return
with the officers. He will put us out as he threat-
ened, and then what shall we do? Roger is not
here.” |

“T have a fancy,” said Dick, “that Mr. McKay,
like his master, is something of a bluff. Don’t worry,
madam, for I do not believe they'll resort to such law-
lessness.””

“Oh, you don’t understand!
They will do anything!

You don’t know them!
But it is not being cast out
of doors that I dread so much now. I fear what
may happen to Roger. He knows nothing of it, and
he will come back here.”

“Why shouldn’t he? He’s
Mrs. Holmes ?”’

_ To Dick’s surprise, the woman seemed unable to
answer, and she again hid her face in her hands.

“Perhaps this is more serious than I thought,” said
the boy mentally. “I wish I knew the facts.”

As if he had spoken aloud, the woman lifted her
head, saying:

“IT must tell you—I must trust you. Oh, I don’t
know how I can speak of it. I didn’t think I could
ever be forced to speak of it again. It has been a
terrible secret between Roger and myself. Agatha,
leave us. Take little Tom. I wish to tell this young

99

gentleman something.

“Now, that’s right, Mrs. Holmes,” said the cripple
encouragingly. “Just you tell him everything, and
Til bet he’ll help you somehow. I know he can
help you,” added the tiny lad, giving Dick a look of
unspeakable and unshaken confidence. “He can do
most anything.”

not a criminal, is he,

In spite of himself, Merriwell laughed, and caught
the little cripple up, giving him a hug.

“I hope I'll be able to make) good after that,
Tommy,” he said. “It’s enough to encourage , any

chap to do his level best.”

Agatha Blair gave Dick a glance from her brown

eyes, in which there was something of her brother’s

admiration. There was likewise an expression of an-
other character which peesned little short of affection.
-“Come, Tom,” she said, “we'll go see father.”

He followed her, his little crutch pegging briskly
across the floor. They disappeared 1 into another room,
and the door was closed.

Dick turned to the agitated woman,

“Now, Mrs. Holmes, if you wish to tell me any-
thing—if you wish to trust me, I’m ready to listen.
What is this thing which threatens you of which cee
not been informed ?”

but this seemed to make Seaver still more crazy.”
Breaking away, he seized a long-bladed hanting: calla

         
    
    
  
  
   
  
  
   
   
   
  
   
  
 
  
  
   
 
  
 
  
  
  
     
    
  
   
   
   
   
  
   
  
  
  
   
  
    
   
  
   
    
     
 
 

WEEKLY. 15

“TY must speak,’’ she breathed. “TI s’pose there’s no
need to pledge you to secrecy, for it’s certain that all
Smoketown will know it soon. The cold-blooded man
whom you drove from this house will spread the tale
broadcast. I know not how it happened that Lavan
Blackpool has learned about that dreadful affair.

    

“In his younger days my husband fore we were
married—was a great hunter and fisherman. He al-
ways loved the woods and streams. One autumn, ~
more than twenty years ago, with a companion by the
the Katahdin

name of Seaver, he camped north of

Iran Works, in ‘his State. Seaver was a decent man |

when he was sober, but drink made him vicious and
sometimes turned him crazy. Roger took care that
there was no liquor in the outfit they carried into the
woods, but three days after they settled down in an
old lumberman’s camp, a party of hunters, guided by
two Oldtown Indians, passed there, and_ halted for 3)
dinner near the camp. This party was supplied with
some sort of stuff made of alcohol and water. When .
they moved on, Roger was relieved, for he had feared —
Seaver would get intoxicated on the vile drink. He a
was not aware Seaver had purchased a quart of the ~~
stuff and hidden it in the camp.
“That night William Seaver drank the stuff and

became intoxicated. It made him ugly, and before
the evening was over he picked a quarrel with Roger.
Oh, Roger has told me many times how he tried to—
quiet Seaver and reason with him, but found it im-—
possible. In the end a hand-to-hand encounter ‘took
place in that camp. Roger got the best of it at first,

‘be ee

well

 

Or
2

and tried to stab Roger. He did cut Roger in the
arm. It was a fight for life, and in the, midst of it
Roger seized a stick of wood and ‘struck Seave

down.”
The woman eae ee: and seeming to find

to resume the tragic tale.

| “That blow,”
blow was fatal.

she whispeied after a a t
It. broke William Seaver’s skull

   

He brought the doctor back into the woods, but w:
they reached the camp Seaver was dead. Of cour:
Roger told exactly how it happened. At that tim
tive was a bit slack in that part of the State. S
was buried without as much as an inquest, Afte
ward there was some talk about having Roger a:

  
 
 

 

      
   

tie TOP

A
oY

  
 

and tried for murder, but this was never done. From
that day to this the memory of the terrible tragedy
_has been a black cloud upon my husband’s life. In
recent years, however, it has seemed that the affair
was forgotten and nothing would ever come of it to
trouble us. But now—now this man Blackpool has
somehow found out about it, and unless I obey his
orders delivered by his tool, I am told that ‘Roger
will be arrested the moment he returns to Smoke-
town. What are we to do?”
“Give me time to think,’ said Dick. “Don’t be in
too much hurry about doing anything, Mrs. Holmes.
Let me speak with Adam Blair,”

  
  
 
  
  
   
  
  
    
  
 
  
   
   
    
 
    
      
  
  
     
   
 
   
  

See

Ne pasta Rs

He found Blair sitting propped up in bed, with
_ Agatha on one side and little Tom on the other. The
cripple had been telling his father how Dick sent
P. McGee McKay hurrying out of the house.

cada

“Perhaps you’d better try to comfort Mrs, Holmes,
Mrs. Blair,” said Merriwell, addressing the woman
who stood near the foot of the bed. “She is in need
of a cheerful word now.”
Mrs. Blair left the room, and, seeing that Dick
wished to be alone with her husband, she called Agatha
: and Tom.
For some minutes Merriwell and the man talked
confidentially. At first Adam Blair was determined
_ to get up somehow and leave the house. He even
went so far as to make the effort to rise, but his
_ strength was not sufficient, and he fell back on the pil-
‘lows, grinding his teeth despairingly.
“Wait,” said Dick. “I’m thinking that I may dis-
‘cover some method of averting this trouble for the
time being. You couldn’t leave if you wished to, Mr.
‘Blair. You couldn’t:go forth with your wife and
‘children into the shelterless streets of this wretched
town. Trust in me and give me a little time.”
With this he left the man, and on returning to the
other room was promptly hailed by little Tom, who
had mounted an overturned chair, and urged Dick to
come play horse with him.
-Laughingly, Merriwell joined in the play of the
little cripple, who shouted his delight when Dick got
down on all fours and represented himself as being
-capering, high-spirited horse. _ |

In the midst of this Mrs. Holmes came down from
n upper room with her bonnet and street clothes on.
er face wore a set, desperate look.
“Madam,” cried Dick, ‘ “what are you going ‘to
ci
‘m going to find my husband,

  

  

 
 

 
 

  

  

” she eae.

this thought aside.

WEEKLY.

“I’m going to warn him that he must not return to
Smoketown.”’

“How are you going?
with ?”’

“T’ll go on foot, if needs be.”’

“But you can’t do that. Do you know where to
find your husband ?”’

At this a helpless expression settled on the woman’s
face.

“T’m not sure,” she answered.
know just where he is.”

Dick reasoned with her. He explained the folly of
her determination, and urged her, as he had urged
Adam Blair, to wait a while and trust in him.

“You'd better do it, Aunt Hannah!” cried little

Have you money to travel

“T’m afraid I don’t

Tom, hopping to her side and clutching her skirt.

“Just you do what Dick tells you. I'll bet he’ll find
a way to fix things all right.”
‘She dropped upon a chair, her hands falling limply

on her lap.

“It seems that I can do nothing else,’ she mur-
mured. “I'll have to wait and ‘trust in you, my
friend; but, oh! I fear you don’t realize the power

you'll have to contend with.”

“T think I realize it,” said Dick; “but there’s such a
thing as diplomacy.”

‘re leaving, he drew Agatha aside, and spoke with
her.

“T’ve thought,” he said, “that you might do some-
thing by appealing to Brian Blackpool, but I have put
You shall not bring yourself to
that.”

a
mured.

“You shall not; but if I see fit to use my. influence
with him, that’s a different thing. You'll be pledged
to nothing. You'll not be compromised in the least.
Yet let me urge you, for the time being, while you
keep strictly on your guard and give him not the
slightest encouragement—let me urge you to treat
him-as respectfully as you can. You should be able
to do this, and still hold him at a distance. Repulsive
though it may seem to you, you must do it for the
sake of your father and the kind people who have
taken you beneath this roof at their own peril. Will
you try?” :

“Tell me what I musf do,” she whispered huskily.

“Never meet him alone by any chance, but if
should come here, meet him frankly and openly, and
try to suppress your feeling of dislike and fear of him.
Remember this is to be done for a time only. Re-

how could I? How could I?’ she mur-

33

  

 

Betas ee

OS

one ET
Ay ds

fem

  

~

2 RR ee RR ab LE AES

Rots

   

  

je Sapheien wn Sek

Aa

      
    
    
     
    
      
       
     
 

  

 

      

     
 

member that as soon as it is possible for your father
to move, you’re going to leave Smoketown and Brian
l Blackpool far behind.”
i
;
4

“T’ll do my best,” she promised.

' | CHAPTER VIII.

 

1 BRIAN’S “BLUE STREAK.”

,e Dick found Buckhart and Steele at the Pinewood
| House, enjoying the society of Seth Herbon and sey-
* eral of the admiring citizens of Smoketown.

a, “You fellers suttinly are a red-hot bunch,” one old
| fellow was saying, as Merriwell entered the office and
» paused, regarding the scene with mingled surprise and
4 amusement. ‘‘Fust, you come here and chuck it right
- into Lavan ee pone teeth that you don’t give a
4 continental tinker’s hoorar for him, and one of ye
' jest up and tells him a whole lot of onpleasant things
j _ that other folks may have thought about him, but
. never had the nerve to say to his face.

a: “T onderstand this same feller that talks to Mr.

_ Blackpool so frank fust knocked the stuffin’ out of Mc-

4 _. Teague, the Smoketown Terror, who has whipped

everything in his class that he’s ever been up against

before that time. Then, when Mr. Blackpool gits up

a crowd to skeer you chaps so you will skedaddle and

stay skedaddled, you don’t seem to skeer a great deal.

_. You comes right back here to-day, and this chap he

_ shows our great. cowboy, Rip Gordon, how to ride a
? . buckin’ hoss.

‘ “Right on top of that, Brian Blackpool drops in
here and shakes hands with you both right jolly and
pleasant, and tells Seth to give ye the best the house

| affords; and charge it to him. I swanny, it’s a queer
sort of a mixed-up affair. I swum, I don’t know jest
what to think about it. I sorter looks to me as if
you fellers were cocks of the walk hereabouts. We
. never s’posed nobody could come into this place and
cheek Lavan Blackpool the way you’ve done. He’s
_ reckoned to be a mighty bad man to cross, he is.”

 

“Hello, partner!’ chuckled Buckhart, observing
Dick. ‘Through with your business?”
“Not wholly,” was Merriwell’s answer. ‘‘What’s

this I hear? Is it correct that Brian Blackpool’s given
: instructions that we’re to be entertained beneath the
2 roof of the Pinewood House?” .

“That’s jest what he has, my boy,” laughed Her-
: bon, striding forward and shaking hands with Dick.
: ‘ “T wouldn’t durst fed ye if Brian hadn’t said that.
e Even now, Mr: Blackpool may be mad ’bout it, but

 

\

 

 

TIP TOP WEEKLY. 17

from his son, so if
you'll have the best

Til tell him I took imstructions
you wanter stay here to dinner,
this house sets out, and not a cent to pay for it,
either.”

“We couldn’t think of staying under those. condi-
tions,” said Dick; “but if we’re permitted to pay our
way, we'll remain here to dinner. Eh, boys?”

“Just as you say,’ nodded Steele. “If you’re not
through with your business iS

“Not quite.” Dick glanced at his watch. “I don’t
know how long it will take me to get through, but
never mind that. You and Brad remain here. I
have to interview Brian Blackpool. _Wonder where I
can find him.”

“He said he was goin’ down to look arter his new
motor-bo’t,” stated the fellow who had been speaking

 

as Merriwell entered. “He’s had a clipper built for
him, and they’re jest puttin’ the injine inter it. It’s
goin’ to be a rip-snortin’ fast bo’t, they say. It’s

goin’ to beat anything seen in these waters, they tell
us. She was modeled by a man that’s modeled the
fastest motor-bo’ts ever built in the world. She cost
a lot of money, too, for her size. That’s the sort of a
plaything Lavan Blackpool gives his son. Other
people’s sons are tickled if they can have a toy sail-
bo’t whittled out of a chunk of wood, and costin’ ten
cents, perhaps. Brian Blackpool has one thirty foot
long, built of the finest material and furnished with
a high-powered injine, and costin’ goodness knows
how many thousand dollars. That’s the difference,
that’s the difference. He’s reckoned to be a rich man’s
son, but I reckon he’s sp’iled. I'll bate he’ll make his
dad’s money fly if he ever gits his fingers holt of it!

“You'd better look him up after dinner,” said Her-
bon. “Dinner will be on in half an hour.”

Dick shook his head.

“Time is precious with me just now,” he said.
“My business demands immediate attention, even if I
have to lose my dinner.”

“You siia’n’t do that, you sha’n’t do that,” isabelle
declared the hotel-keeper. “I'll see that you git a —
square feed when you're ready for it. But your —
friends Fe

 

“They'll remain here. They'll eat at the regular
hour. I’m much obliged to you, Mr. Herbon.”
.Buckhart rose and spoke to Dick in a low tone. .

“Hadn’t we better go along with you, partner?” he

questioned. “Don’t you need us for anything ?”
Merriwell shook his head. ee
“T think it will be better if I attend to . this affair 4

alone,” he said. — .

 

   

 
    
  

“Well, you know what you want to do,” muttered
the Texan regretfully, “I know, likewise, that we're
here to back you up.”

“Tn this case, a show of force would be worse than
useless, and might defeat my object.’

“Can’t you tell us what you’re up to, partner ?”’

“Tl tell you later,” said Dick.

He then sought directions, was given them by the
eager citizens, and set out in hopes of finding Brian
and influencing him to prevent any further move
against the Blairs by P. McGee McKay.

Young Blackpool’s new motor-boat lay ready for
launching in the shelter of the shop where it had been
built. As stated, the machinists were installing the
powerful gasolene-engine, which had been delayed ‘in
its arrival until the boat was ready for use in,every
other particular.

Brian was there watching the laborers,

. twitter and Reddy Perkins were with him.

“Hello, !” cried the magnate’s son, his

Foss Dill-

Merriwell !
face betraying surprise as Dick walked into the long
shop, the doors of which were flung wide open upon
the water. “What are you doing here?”

“Good gwathuth!” lisped Dilltwitter, “that’th What
I'd like to know.”

one corner of his mouth to the other, and shifted his
position upon his crooked pins so that he could face
the daring boy who had ventured to beard the lion
_., Of Smoketown in his den, |
“Hello, Blackpool,” said’ Dick coolly. “Heard
about your new motor-boat, and took a fancy to look
at it.” ,

“Good!” nodded Brinn heartily. ‘Look her over,
old chap. Just inspect her from stem to stern, and
I think you’ll say she’s a beauty. Isn’t she the clean-

est cut old girl you ever clapped an eye upon? Look
at that prow—sharp as a em I'll guarantee that
she’ll make speed, all right.” —

It was;indeed a racy-looking boat, although Dick
did not fancy the color it had been painted.
“Why did you paint her blue, Blackpool?” he
asked. |
“Qh, just a notion of mine,” was the reply. “You
see, she'll look like the water. She won’t attract so
_ much attention being this color. Ona hazy day, a fel-
‘low might get close to other boats without being no-
 ticed. I’m going to call her the Blue Streak, If
es you stick to your plan of camping. on Pine Point, old
se fellow, I'll give you a cruise in the Blue Sireak.

ieee do you say to that ?”

 
 

  
   
 

Perkins made no remark, but shifted his pipe from

Tire OR WEEKLY.

“Thank you, Blackpool. I fancy I might enjoy it.’
“My starth!’ murmured Dilltwitter, turning
y , 4

mingled astonishment and disgust upon Perkins.’
“Tuth lithten to that! Jutht thee them! | They’re

talking ath if they were the greateth fwiendth in the
world. Gwathuth thaketh alive! I don’t understand
Terai Abb,

“Tt knocks me,” answered Perkins. ‘Never knew
Brian to knuckle to any one before. I didn’t get onto
what he meant when he ordered Mike not to molest

99

these fellows if they made another attempt to land-

at the Eastern Pier. Mike put up a hollar, but Brian
choked him off in a hurry, saying that orders were
orders, and that it was his business to obey.”

“Te mutht have thomething up hith thleeve,” said
Dilltwitter wonderingly. “I gueth: ’m onto hith
game.”

“What do you think?” :

“Tel he! I think ‘he’th fooling the fellow. I think
he’th going to jump on him by and by, and\wip him
up the back. Yeth, thir! That’th jutht it.
starth, won't there be a wacket!”’ —

“Well, I’m thinking you’ve got another guess com-
ing,” said Reddy. “Although I don’t pretend to un-
derstand it, I know some sort of a change came Over
Brian after he got his hand hutt.
anybody what happened.

33

formed me that it was none of my business.”

In the meantime, Blackpool had led the way up

some steps to a platform, from which Dick followed Bs

him upon the Blue Streak. The boys sat down side
by side, upon a cushioned seat near the stern.

“T had my choice between a boat and an automo- |

bile,” said Brian, “I took the boat. Ill get the car
later on, if I want it, but the roads in these parts are
not the best ever. I’ve talked to the gov’nor, and

urged him to get this town to making good roads, but
As a rule,-if |

he doesn’t seem inclined to go in for it.
one town has good roads, the surrounding towns take
up the work, and follow the example set.
ent times Wolfowoods, to the west, has better roads
than Smoketown.
thing from Lobsterville, for the people over there are
fishermen, and they don’t care anything about roads.

Besides, they have a grudge against us, and they

wouldn't follow our example, anyhow.

“They’ re a‘tough lot over at Lobsterville.
had half a dozen quarrels with them, at var ious times.

Once we had a regular pitched battle right here in”
Smoketown, but we cleaned them out in fine shape, f

My

And he won't tell
I asked him why he had
his hand tied up in a bandage, and he politely in-_

Of course, we couldn’t expect any-

   
      
  
  
   

ENS Deepa Pr ete ona

 

ee a eee

 

3S a
oe

eel

At the pres-__ 5

re. #

 

 

ae

    
     
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
  
 
  
 
 
 
  
 
    
 
 
  
 
  
  
  
 
 
  
  
 
  
  
  
 
  
  
  
  
 
  
   
  
  

 

 

Kt. peed

es

eye

Mm Fh

:n

at
> cea aiiaeg ae

 

Fatt

 

 

 

 

 

‘batted at me, unless I did it one-handed.

and they haven't troubled us since. They the
most of their supplies here, but they come quietly and

buy

depart peacefully. I understand they hold a grudge
against us just the same, but I don’t suppose you’re
interested in these matters. | saw your friend Buck-
hart do a few fancy stunts in the way of riding Rip
Gordon’s bronco. Say, that was a joke on Gordon.
He’s been showing off around here since he arrived
I imagine h® won’t be

Where did your friend

back home a day or two ago.
quite so cockey hereafter.
like that ?”’

Texas,”

learn to ride
“In
“Oh, he’s been out West, has he?
“He comes. from His

He was brought up in the saddle.”

answered Merriwell.

I fancied so.”’
Texas. father is a big
rancher.

Brian whistled, an expression 6£ amusement on his
face.

“No wonder Come to think of it,
I’ve noticed he has a peculiar way of speaking that’s
different from the Eastern way. He also has a rather
free-and-easy, independent way about hit.”

“Yes, that’s Buckhart,’’ nodded Dick.
sons bluffer
spoken manner, but Brad usually manages to back up
his words.”’

“But there’s one thitig I fancy he couldn’t do. I
have an idea he’d make a poor showing in a perform-
ance such as you made over at Thunder Bluff. By
George, Merriwell, you climbed that rope like a
I wondered how you could do it.
dreamed about: that last night.
well, for I kept fancying I was sliding down a rope,
My hand
The doctor dressed it, and he says it will

he could ride.

“Some per-

imagine him a on account of his out-

sailor.
Do you know, I

and on the point of dropping into the sea.
pained me.

be some time before I can use it in a baseball-game.

I suppose I might pitch, seeing that my right hand
is uninjured; but I couldn’t catch a ball if one was
Merriwell,
I don’t think I fully expressed my appreciation of what
you did for me. Of course, I was rather knocked
out at the time. I’ve thought the matter over since,
and I want to tell you that I realize you saved me
from being chewed up by the waves that are for-
ever gnawing at the base of Thunder Bluff.”

“Thunder Bluff?” said Dick. “Do you call it that?”

“Sure.” }

“Well, that’s odd. I gave it that name myself, and

_ T was unaware at the time that it was so called. You

You say
Do you mean it,

say you realize you owe me something?
you stand ready to repay the debt.

: Blackpool ?”’

 

Lip LOP

Didn’t sleep very

WEEKLY. 19

“Td hke an opportunity to prove that I mean it.
Ask a favor of me, and, , [ll grant
ites,

“Then,

if it’s in my powe

” said Dick, “I’m going to ask that favor.”

CHAPTER IX.
A STRANGE INFLUENCE.

but suppressed
any expression of wonderment as he waited for his

Brian Blackpool looked surprised,

companion to speak.

Dick knew that a certain sort of diplomacy was re-
quired, and he found the subject not a little difficult
to approach tactfully.

“Yesterday,” he said, after
tation, “we spoke of Agatha Blair.”

Like a flash, a look of intelligence crossed young
Blackpool’s face. He fancied he knew what Merri-
well was coming at.

ra few moments of medi-

e

“Yes,” he nodded, “we spoke of her. Are you go-
ing to ask a favor on her account?”

Oh aie

“Wait a moment,
question.”

“Go ahead.”

“Agatha Blair is a pretty girl.”

“Indeed,

“You've seen her, and you couldn’t help noticing
that she’s unusually attractive.”

“You're right.” ,

“Now, give it to me on the level, Merriwell—don’t
try to fool me—have you got a case on her ?”

“A: case ?”” :

“Are you struck on her?”

“Oh, no,” was the answer, “not in the way you
mean, Blackpool. I’m sorry for the girl, as she seems
to be ina sin ie difficult and unpleasant position just
at present.”

“Sorry!’’ muttered Brian, ‘
low,
hand.

old chap. Let me ask you a

she is.’

+

 

‘sorry! Hum! Old fel-
sympathy and what they call love go hand in
Begin to sympathize with a pretty girl, and
you're in danger of going smashed on her.
that’s the way with you, and you don’t realize it.”
“No, that’s not the way with me, Brian.”
The Smoketown magnate’s son looked surprised,

and a bit gratified to hear Merriwell address him by _

his given name.
“All right, Dick,”

word for it.

a bit gone on her.

Perhaps ©

he said quickly, “T’ll take your a
Still, I wouldn’t blame you if you were
Of course, I wouldn’t expect a fel-

 
= re deta Neliolgk, en
ger aam mcn a Pes era eae en eo a
RE PATO I

   

  

TIP TOP

low like you to think of her seriously, for she’s far
beneath your station in life.”

“In case I were smashed on Agatha Blair, as you
put it, her station in life would make very little dif-
ference with me. As far as I can learn, her parents
are respectable people.
; not a crime. That you may put this notion of yours
ae out of your head, Blackpool, I'll make a confession. I
i know a certain girl who interests me very much, and

SSA et LER TE GEE te ELT at MEE
a we x * ~ a * : a

They're poor, but poverty is

 

 

you might say that I’m smashed on her.”
- “Oh, that’s all right,” chuckled Brian.
Be in these parts, is she?”
“No.”
“Well, there might be others. A fellow doesn’t tie
down to one girl at your age, Merriwell. At least, a
_ fellow with the sense I take you to have doesn’t do so.
Why should he? The more the merrier. Now, ad-
mitting that you have a girl somewhere whom you're
dead gone upon, why shouldn’t you get up a summer
flirtation with another girl down this way? ‘There's
not one chance in a thousand that the two will ever
meet. If they did meet by accident, it’s not probable
they’d chin it over and tell each other how much they
were struck on you,

“She isn’t

 

_ “Merriwell, girls-are flirts. I mean it. They’re
all alike. They like a chap when he’s near, but when
he’s far away some other chap takes his place. Why
shouldn’t it be the same with us? Why should we
let them fool us and not do a little fooling our-
selves? Now I know a mighty fine girl. Met her
last winter. Her father is worth two or three mil-
lions, they say, and I have a notion hat I stand Num-
ber One on her list. Some day, if I don’t meet some-
_ body else that I like better, [ may lay siege to her in
-eatnest, and do my best to carry her off, along with a
part of her old man’s boodle. They say marrying for
money isn’t what it’s cracked up to be, but oa a
chap can marry for money and love, both, the combi-
nation is a mighty fine one. I beg your pardon. I
e think I’m side-tracking you. We're not getting at
that request you wish to make.’ | po
Dick was tempted to express a few opinions of his
own, but, realizing the folly of wasting words ‘and
time, he suppressed the desire.

“TI don’t suppose,” he said, “you've forgotten the
“talk I made to you yesterday about Agatha Blair. 1

  

I earnestly hope you have
‘manhood enough not to do her any harm. Just now

was sincere, Blackpool.

 
 

  

eee. ae a

bd a . gi 4
Re ean

ste is ie a Seana ate re on en of your.

      
   
  
   
    
   
  
   
   
   
  
   
  
 
  
  
   
   
    
  
 
  
 
 
 
 
      
       
        
         
       
    
       
   

WEEKLY.

“But the g gov’nor is away from town for a few days.
While he’s all right.”

“Evidently, you’re not aware of what is taking
place. you do not know that your father’s
private secretary, McKay, has received orders which
concern the Blairs.”’

“When did this happen ?’

“Recently. Your father talked va aa? over
the phone, and gave him instructions.”

“Of what. sort ?”

“T’ve just come from the home of Roger Holmes,
where the Blairs are now located.
to call upon them, and as I entered the house I found
McKay there
the Blairs out immediately. Unless she did so, he
threatened that her husband should be arrested and
brought to trial upon a serious charge. ‘The poor
woman was at her wits’ end. She was badly fright-
ened by the bullying of McKay. I found it neces-

sary to request the gentleman to leave that house,
which he did; but he departed, swearing that he would
return as soon as possible, with a posse of men, to
evict Mrs. Holmes and the Blairs.” |
admitted Brian frown-

gone, the Blairs are

Evidently,

7

“Well, this is news to me,’

ingly. i
“If McKay carries out his purpose,” continued.
Dick, “Agatha Blair will leave Smoketown to-day.”

“How will she go?”

“Tl see to that. Casper Steele’ S yacht lies yonder
The Blairs and Mrs. Holmes will be
You'll see the last of

in the harbor.
taken on- hoard that yacht.
Agatha.”
This was precisely
happen.
“T'll have to talk with McKay!’ he cried.
“T thought you might do that,”
thought it possible you might hold him in check until
your father returns, I even fancied that you might
usé your influence with your father. You
Adam Blair is in no condition for such a move. Give
him time to regain his strength. Show Agatha that

what Brian did not wish to

you are not as bad as she thinks, for she fancies you

as heartless and unfeeling as your father seems to
be. I speak to you plainly, Blackpool, and [ tell you

there is nothing but distrust and diskke for your
Being his son, you have been |
Evidently, you are a favorite with _
him, and your wishes and words should have some —

father in my heart.
judged like him.

influence upon him.”
“T guess that’s so,” agreed Brian.
likes me pretty well.

 

I took a fancy -

He was ordering Mrs. Holmes to put.

S

(You see, I’m his only chick,

eke

DM Ptee oo ger"

" ~ oe .
ee i gaia Bee SC
ae ge Sao tee ae ee

<TR IT IES Sau

a

ae aca aden pea ae
FEE SES SE

 

nodded Dick. “T a ;

know |

 

 

 

pet es Ut Sw

he
oe te

ee] FS 4 A
 

a tSS SS Fasc ee

KE ee

Aap ACE,

i be fp
Gi TE St

 

 

 

 

_ came here
_ fancy being called Pat, so he lets the letter P stand
for the first section of his name, and proudly writes

+

ne of that, Weddy?

TIP STOP

He’s always been liberal enough with me. I can’t
complain. Well, why shouldn’t he be? He hasn't
any one else to spend money upon, and he’s got money
to burn. When the time comes, I'll burn some of it.”

“Even now, as we sit here talkitg, McKay may be
making arrangements to carry out his threat.”

Brian glanced at his watch.

“I don’t fancy that is so,’
MbCee’ s lunch-time. Whenever I think of the way
that man signs his name, it makes me laugh. He
as plain Patrick McKay, but he didn’t

he said. ‘“SThis. as P.

out the McGee McKay in full. Come on, Merriwell.

We may be able to catch him at the company’s office

before he leaves for lunch,
Pat.

This was precisely what Dick wished, and he be-
trayed his readiness to follow Blackpool. As they
were leaving, Dilltwitter called:

“I thay, Bwian, shall I thee you thith afternoon?
Think you'll be awound here later, old chap?’’:

-~“Oh, I don’t know whether I will or not,” was the
answer. “If I happen to come, around, and you're

Let’s go over and_call on

here, you'll see me.”

Dilltwitter looked hurt as he turned to Perkins, who

shipped his pipe across the expanse of his mouth and

grinned, as he settled the stem in the opposite corner.
“My starth!” murmured Foss. “What do you think
He wuns away with that fellow

 Merriwell, and he talketh to me jutht like we’d never

   
 
  
   
   

 

 
    

    

asthat’th it.
-thpell on Bwian.”

paused to light a cigarette.

m, don’t eat enough to keep a thparrow alive.
— fwuit and a few clerolntn caramith theem to make a
 thquare meal for me.’

 
       
 
       

Vasisted Perkins.

been weal fwiends. On my word, Weddy,, he theemth
to be‘hpynotithed by that fellow. That’th it, Weddy
Merriwell hath put thome thort of a
“Rot!”

grunted Perkins. “Brian Blackpool isn’t

the sort of a fellow to let anybod y bamboozle him, If
| he’s taken up with Merriwell, it’s because he has a
} » reason for doing it.
| we find out what that reason is,
ee) Coming?”

It’s up to us to keep still until
I’m going to grub.

-“Veth, I gueth I'll dine,” sighed Dilltwitter, as he
~"T don’t theem to have
Marmar thayth I

much appetite for food though.
A little

’

“What you need is about a yard of rare beefstenle” ’

And you'd beter stop sucking those

   

into your body.

_ Lavan Blackpool’s private secretary.
interfering?”

: more, but he closed up li li ke a clam.
| “Tf you could stow away plenty of
__ beefsteak under your vest, you'd get some real blood

WEEKLY.

coffin-nails. Smoke a pipe, like a man, Dilltwitter.
Take a chaw of tobacco now and then, and brace up.”

“Goodneth gwathuth! a chaw of tobacco would
make me deathly thick. I twied it once, and I nearly
turned wong thide out. It’th deuthedly nawthty, but
I didn’t twy it becanthe I wanted to, you know, old
No, ‘he thophomoreth at college
caught me one night, and made me thmoke nawthty
cherootth and chew nawthty tobacco until I thought I
wath going to die!”

fellow. thir! ©

“Nawsty soph’mores!” mocked Perkins, with a grin.

They followed Dick and Blackpool at a distance, un-
til they saw the two turn from the street and mount
the steps of the lime company’s office.

“Now, I’d like to know why tay, re going there?
muttered Reddy wonderingly. ‘You’re right about
one thing, Dill—Brian is doing some mighty queer
stunts. All the same, I’m not going to bother my

33

‘head about it.”

CHAPTER X.
THE INVADERS.

P. McGee McKay was talking earnestly with the
grimy sheriff of Smoketown, Jordan Jones. The two
men glanced up, and both seemed surprised as they
saw Dick Merriwell following Brian Blackpool into
the office. nes

“All right, Jones,’ said McKay. “You understand
what’s to be done.. Go ahead and = out your in-
structions immediately after dinner.”’

“Hold on, Jones,”
for the door. “Whatever your instructions ate you "ll
not carry them out tntil you hear from me.”

“Hey?” exclaimed Jones, in astonishment. |
_. “What’s that?” cried the fei Mr. McKay, in still we
greater astonishment. no

“You heard what I said,” nodded Brian authori-_
tatively.

“But you, don’t know anything abtat’s it,”
“Why are you ©

>

}

“Now, look here, Pat,” said Brian, in his sauciest —
manner, “don’t talk in that tone t to me.
for it. Get that?” ; ie ees

Mr. McKay, had his mouth open to say something

“That’ s right,” nodded the. ‘magnate’s son, “When :
I talk to you, you know I mean business, Pat. And
What

you, Set, 4 Soom I mean PION: too. e

  

said Brian, as the officer started a2

 

’ declared

I won't a ard,
22
ever instructions McKay’s given you, you'll forget
about it until you hear from me.”

“But, sir

“But me no buts. Chase yourself, Jones, and pass
into innocuous desuetude until further notice.”
gasped the officer, shifting
his qujd of tobacco and looking puzzled. “I don’t
know where to find it.”

“Well, then, just keep cool and let your hair curl,
Jones. I think you understand what that means, if
you didn’t get my other remark. ‘Twenty-three for
you. Dust out.”

Jones departed in a state of bewilderment and un-
certainty. .

“Tnnoccurious what?”

“T don’t see what you mean by coming here and in-

terfering with your father’s business, Brian,” said Mc-
‘Kay, as the boy faced him. “It’s my duty to carry

out your father’s orders, and I propose to do my
duty.”

“All right, Paty’ nodded Brian, as he suavely mo-
tioned for Dick to take a chair. ‘You may go ahead
and carry out those orders if you choose, but, in case
I raise an objection, you'll regret too much haste on
your own part.”

“But, as I told you, you don’t know anything about
it.”

“Let’s see if you’re right, Pat—or is your name

Patsy?

“Mr. Blackpool always addresses me as McKay,”
said the secretary resentfully. “His son should have
that much courtesy and politeness, at least.”

I’ve forgotten which is correct.’

“The gov’nor doesn’t go much on front names,”
said Brian. ‘What do you expect of him? Do you
think he’s coming around you, to fondle you and give
you pet titles? Now, you see I like you, Pat, and so
I call you by your first name. Between us, I'm afraid
the old man doesn’t like you as well as I do. . You
may not know it, but there was a time, not long ago—
when you made that blunder of putting the wrong
letters into the wrong envelopes, and balling up a piece
of business that cost the company a few thousand dol-
lars—there was a time about then when the goy’nor
- seriously contemplated kicking you out. You ‘may
not know it, but only for my influence—only for my
advice—you might be hunting a job now. I told him
he’d better take a little time to think the matter over.
I told him it was a mistake similar to many other mis-
takes that have upset other people’s affairs. I re-
called the fact that you have been faithful to his in-
_ terests since you entered his employ, and that you

_ were then feeling dreadfully cut up over your blunder,

ee eee err Taree el

TiP TOP WEERLY.

He took a day or so to think about firing you, and

finally decided to keep you. You, Patrick, or Patsy,
or Pat—you owe to me the fact that you are holding
down your position Now look pleasant,

grateful.’

at present.
and show that you're truly
Mr. McKay tried to look pleasant
and betray gratitude.

“Certainly
ae
anything to do with your father not discharging me.”
Now, McKay, we'll take
up this other matter concerning which you have the
erroneous opinion that I’m not informed. If you were
not a trifle dull, you would put two and two together,

Thus cornered,

much obliged to you, Brian,’ he

knew before this that you had

I’m
muttered. never

“Well, you know it now.

and the very fact that Merriwell is with me should
satisfy you that I am informed concerning your busi-
ness with Jordan Jones.”

At this point McKay gave Dick a cold look of
hatred.

“T see you’re getting it through your noddle,” Brian
went on, as he perched himself carelessly upon the top
in front of a high desk. “That's it,
Mr. Merriwell has told me all about it.”

of a high stool,

McKay.
“T presume he’s told you the truth?” said the sec-

retary, blinking rapidly with his white eyes.

agreed Brian. “That makes

it unnecessary for us to go over the entire ground.

“T pres has”
I presume he has,

Let me inform you that I do not wish the Blairs or

Mrs. Holmes molested. There you have it, straight

from the shoulder.”
“But your father’s orders, Brian—I have to——

“You're taking orders from me now.’

”

“But if I don’t carry out his directions, I will lose
and finds that I have ~

my position. If he comes back
not complied with his commands, he’ll discharge me at
once.”

“The fact that I once prevented him from dischar-
ging you should convince you that I have a little influ-
ence with him.
have not kicked the Blairs into the street, I’ll shoulder
the blame. I'll tell him that it was I who objected
and stopped proceedings.”

“But——”

“But,” cut short Brian, “if you do persist in carry-
ing this thing through, I shall meet the gov’nor in
quite a different way. The moment he shows up I
shall give him a hot game of talk that will be liable

to end in your finding yourself cast adrift in a hurry.
start in to throw you

Leave it to me, McKay. lf
out of your job, you’ll go in a hurry!”

The secretary looked like a panting fish flounder

When he returns and finds that you

 

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} I think I’m good for

   

ing in anet. Flop as he might, he could not
escape.
“It’s pretty hard on me,” he muttered. “If I don’t
obey orders, your father is going to be furious. If I
do obey orders, you threaten to have me broken,”
% cy? ‘g : c > >
ee I'll stand the brunt of the gov’nor’s fury, McKay.

that.
_ I presume you’re hungry,

It’s past my lunch-time.
also. There’s no reason
e Z ‘i - 9?
_ why we should let our lunches get cold.
ae? As Brian slipped down from the stool and coolly

sh prepared to leave the office, two persons came panting
} and stumbling in. The first was Mike McTeague,
¢ and he was closely followed by Jordan Jones.

. McTeague was perspiring, red-faced, and out of
i: breath. Seeing Brian, he attempted to speak, but for
1p a few moments could not seem to utter coherent words.
¥

_ Finally he began to gasp’and splutter:
“All Lobsterville—coming up the

   

street—more than
half a hundred—red-hot and ready for trouble—go-
ing to be a ruction!”

 

2 v-

t
Re.
ere
+

“What's that?” cried Brian, in great surprise.
“What are you trying to tell us, Mike?’
“The Lobsterville crowd,” put in Jordan Jones;

he “they’ve come over in their fishin’-bo’ts and landed
) here. They’re on the rampage, and there’s going to
. be a mess sure as fate.”

) “Mercy.!” exclaimed McKay, in great agitation.

| “There was a nasty riot the last time those men were
| here in a crowd.
te - them here!

Jones, collect your deputies !
Arm them! We
| erty! Look alive, men!”

< Outside there were hoarse shouts and the rushing
tramp of many feet. Ere Jordan Jones could lay his
hand upon the door-knob, the door flew open with a
bang, and into the room strode a huge, broad-shoul-
dered man, followed closely by many others. They
were a sea-scarred, weather-beaten set. Dangerous
and desperate men Dick Merriwell knew them to be

Bring
must protect our prop-

 

Yat a glance.

The huge leader shook the floor with his heavy
tread as he strode to the center of the office and looked
a around him.

"Come right in, boys!

his hand. .

. They needed no invitation, for they were crowding

in as fast as they could, aE

me cried P. McGee McKay, retreating

: behind his desk and grabbing up a ruler, which he
flourished in the air. “‘What.do you mean by this?

What business have you here: r :

eT hat’s all right,

“This is the place!”

  

5

“Tere, here!”

  
 

  
  

mister,” said: the huge leader.

TIPS TOP

  

* he cried, with a wave of»

word? Why does he let them three gin-mills to run —
with open doors on Cat Alley? Why does he let the
proprietors of them rotten places take the hard-earned 2
money of honest men from Lobsterville who’ ve come &

WEEKLY.

“We have a little score to settle with this town, and
we're goihg to settle it to-day. We understand that
old Blackpool is away from home, and we know all
about the strike over here. I ruther guess the stri-
kers will sympathize with us. I ruther guess they'll
stand back and look on while we get square with
Smoketown. We come here fust because we under-
stand that you keep some loaded guns in this office.
I don’t see ’em, but mebbe they’re behind that door.
Boys, open that door!”

In spite of McKay’s the Lobster-
men tore open the door ofa closet, disclosing the fact
that the loaded rifles with which Lavan Blackpool in-
tended to arm his deputies in case of need were con-
cealed there.

“Take keer of the guns, boys,’ said the leader.
“Take charge of ’ein, ‘and we'll go on about our busi-
ness.’

With a hoarse cheer, the invaders seized the weap-
ons.

remonstrations,

CHAPTER XI...
CLEANING UP CAT ALLEY.

By this time P. McGee McKay was the cold, blnish-
white color of a fresh-cut cake of lake ice. Mr. Me-
Kay was sadly lacking in courage, and the appearance
of the rough and ready fishermen from Lobsterville
had wholly sapped the sand from him. Huddled on
his chair behind the desk, the lower part of his spine
seemed to melt so that the upper portion of his body.
sank gradually. floorward.

“They’re drunk 1” he muttered.
what they'll do. They’re all drunk.” ;

Catching his words, the big man stood over the 5

desk and surveyed the limp private secretary of Lavan
Blackpool with unspeakable disdain.
“You're a liar by the clock!” hé growled.

not drunk, nary one of us. You've made some of ‘us

drunk more than once, selling us your rotten booze

when we come over to this town to buy provisions.

This is supposed to be a law- -abiding town in the pro-- :
hibition State of Maine, but over here old Blackpool —
and .authority, court, judge, and justice. Iti i

is law
he should say the word, they ‘couldn’t run no dirty
rum-shops in Smoketown. Why doesn’t he say the

over here to buy household necessities for their fal
ilies? That’s what's happened sees times, 2

“There’s no telling

ew. etre es

           

   
 
   
   
   
 
 

   
  
   
  
   
 
  
  
   
 
    
     
     
     
       
      
       
 
        
    
       
     
       
 

    
      
  
    
 
 
   
 
  
   
   
  
 
   
   
 
  
    
  
   
 
   
 
 
   
   
   
 

old Blackpool knows it. Some of these boys right
here with me have been the victims, too . They're
human, with the weaknesses of human beings, and it
ain’t so hard to rob them of their money arter you git
a drink or two into them. We've been robbed and
kicked and sneered at in Smoketown, and now we’re
goin’ to settle the score agin’ her. When we git
through there won’t be a rum-shop doin’ business on
Cat Alley. If old Blackpool won’t clean up his own
town, we'll clean it up for him. Hey, boys?”

“That’s right, Hank!” cried the men, flourishing the
captured rifles. “We'll clean her up.”

“You're fine fellers to talk about law and order!”
sneered Mike McTeague. “Here you come into our
town and break into the Lime Company’s office and
seize dem rifles. But you’ wait. You'll have to settle
for dis!”

At this point a rugged-looking youth, near Mc-
Teague’s age, detached himself from the others and
confronted Mike. This fellow was solidly built from
the ground up. The neck of his shirt was unbuttoned,
exposing his full, thick throat and a bit of his hairy
upper chest.

“That'll about do for you, McTeague,” he said.
“The last time I was here, you and a bunch of your
mates jumped on me and done me up. When the
boys proposed coming over here to clean up this town,
I asked permission to square my score with you, but
dad objected to that. The only way he’d let me
come was on my promise not to kick up a fuss with
you, McTeague. I give that promise, and I’m going
to Keep it, but some day you and me are goin’ to have
a settlement, and you'll get all that’s comin’ to you.”

The Smoketown Terror tried to carry it off with a
grin and a shrug of his shoulders, but it was plain that
he stood somewhat in awe of Gideon Hammerhead,
son of Hank Hammerhead, the huge leader of the in-
vaders from Lobsterville.

“That’s all right, son,” growled Hank, at this junc-

ture. “You've said your say to that feller. Now stop. |

Come on, boys, let’s raid Cat Alley before the grog-
shop keepers git wind of what’s doin’ and shut up
their joints.”

“Come on! come on!” roared the men, as they
poured out of the Lime Company’s office after the

_ manner in which they had poured into it.

As fast as the invaders disappeared Mr. McKay’s
lower spine stiffened, and he rose in his chair like the
‘growing of a magic plant beneath the mysterious in-
fluence of an East Indian fakir. With his eyes on the
back of the last Lobsterville citizen to depart, McKay
began to splutter and hiss with unusual heat, which
seemed to melt his naturally icy exterior.

“Outrageous lawlessness! Contemptible ruffians!
Miserable wretches! Unspeakable insolence! Are
you going to stand for this, Brian? Are you going
to let those scoundrels come here and start a riot in
our town? Are you going to let them carry out their

threats ?”

TIP TOP WEEKLY.

“If they do nothing worse than carry out their
threats,” said young Blackpool, “Smoketown won’t be
seriously damaged. Hank Hammerhead spoke truth-
fully concerning the gin-mills of Cat Alley. Those
dens are rtinning in defiance of the laws of this State.”

“Are we going to permit outsiders to invade
Smoketown and tell us what is what?’ rasped Mr.

McKay. “Your father would be proud of you if he
were here! Come, Jones, what are you doing?”
eey

What do you want me to do?” asked Jordan Jones.

“Gather your deputies.
Smoketown.”

The sheriff looked doubtful as he wagged his jaws
over a chew of tobacco.

“I’m rather inclined to think that would be a hard
job, Mr. McKay,” he said. “Them Lobstervillians
have got our guns, and I don’t believe the whole of

Smoketown could tackle ’°em and drive ’em out. I’m
willin’ to say that I ain’t anxious for the job.”
“Yah! you're a coward,” cried McKay. “You

ain’t fit to hold down your job.”

“If you’re so mighty brave,” retorted Jones, “just
git out and lead the men against that crowd. T’ll
foller where you lead, though we git ourselves shot.”

But McKay had no relish for such a task.

“Come on, Dick,” “Let’s go out and
watch the doings.
here. If he were in town, I’d stake my life there’d
be a bad clash between the fishermen and our people.”

By the time Merriwell and Blackpool reached the
main street of Smoketown their ears were assailed by
sounds of commotion coming from a side street,

said Brian.

which was derisively known as Cat Alley, and upon —

which the saloons of the place flourished. There was
a great deal of excitement, and men were hastening

in all directions. toward the alley, which already —

seemed packed and overflowing with humanity.

Mingling with the shouts there were sounds of
smashing and crashing, as the boys reached the mouth
of the alley and forced their way through the tightly
packed throng.

Part of the invaders, armed with the captured rifles,
had formed a half-cirlce in front of the three saloons,
and were holding the crowd back. Their. comrades
had taken possession of the rum-shops, and were break-
ing up the furniture and pulling down the fixtures.
Liquor in bottles of many shapes and sizes was cast
into the street and spilled without compunction and
without hesitation. Forth came a cask, rolling and
bounding down’some rotten steps. Forth came three
men, two of whom seized the cask and placed it in
position for the third, who wielded an ax and

smashed in the head of the vessel.. A groan rose from

the spectators as the liquor burst forth and poured
over the stones of the dirty alley. The air was per-

-vaded with the odor of alcohol.

?

“Oh, suffering sinners!” gasped one bleary-eyed,
tottering old toper, who had been repeatedly thrust

Run those ruffians out of .

f

a

It’s a good thing the gov’nor isn’t

  

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ish
a

    

 

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back before the rifle muzzle. “Just Jet me git in
there, please! Why, a man can drink right out of the
gutter! Mercy, mercy, what a jag I might git with-
out paying a cent for it!”

A few moments later this degraded unfortunate was
discovered trying to crawl between the legs of a. spec-
tator in hopes of squirming unobserved. through the
line of guards in order to lap up the liquor that was
laving the stones and soaki ing into the dirt of the
alley.

One of the saloon-keepers, a huge red-headed man,
had made a desperate attempt to defend his property,
and he was now cursing and groaning in the hands of
the restraining fishermen.

“You've ruined me, cuss ye!”

“Ruined ye, Dennie Casey?’ sneered Hank
merhead. “Ruined ye? Why, you’ve ruined a hun-
dred men, sellin’ them your rotten rum. You've taken
the clothes off their backs, their wives’ backs, and their
children’s backs. You've taken ‘the food out of the
mouths of their young uns.”

“Tf there’s a law, I’ll have it on ye, Hammerhead!”

he snarled.

‘howled the saloon-keeper.

“Tf the law of this State was administered just,”
retorted the Lobsterville leader, “you'd be behind
prison-bars to-day, Casey. That’s where ye belong,
and ye ought to spend the rest of yer life there. Don’t
threaten me with the law.’

At this a number of the Smoketown citizens who
had participated in the late strike and who were still
out of work raised their voices in approval.

“Tt’s plain to me, Brian,” said Merriwell, “that

there is an element in Smoketown in full sympathy

with the invaders from Lobsterville.”

Young Blackpool nodded.

“T realize that,” he said. “If these fishermen don’t
do anything worse than clean out the Cat Alley grog-

shops, we'll be better off for their coming.”

CHAPTER XII.
BAFFLED—THE ‘SECRET OF THE TIDE,

Having wrecked the saloons, much of the serious-
ness of the invaders seemed to ev aporate with satisfac-
tion over their work, and they were inc lined to laugh
and jest. Forming in an irregular body, with Hau
merhead in command, they paraded the main street of
Smoketown.

Buckhart and Steele had found Dick in the crowd,

and the trio went back to the Pinewood House, where °
ae satisfied his hunger,
at the tab

while his friends sat
le discussing the stirring events of the day.

having red- hot times
“T. think Lavan Blackpool

“They're certainly
parts,’ laughed Casper.

‘will have his hands full at home, without bothering us
-over on Pine Point.”

“Tis apparent that you’re right,’ nodded Dick.
“It's a good thing for. Blackpool that these men from

BAe FOE

 

Ham-

in these |

WEEKLY.
out of town: are not inclined to incite the strikers, for
if the two elements were to unite against the foreign-
ers who are operating the quarries and the kilns,
there’d be a small civil war here, which might result
in the complete destruction of this village.”

At that very moment. Hank Hammerhead and a
committee from Lobsterville had called to interview
Adam Blair. Hats off, they crowded into the small
bedroom and surrounded the bed on which Blair lay.

Mr. Blair,” said Hank, acting. as Spoke smais
“we've jest put the Cat Alley gin- -snills out of commis-
It was the voice of our boys to call on you for
a consultation. We may have had some differences
with you folks in the past, but we want ye to under-
stand that our sympathy is with ye in this strike busi-
ness. We’re all laboring men and citizens of this State
and country, and we don’t want to see no foreign da-
goes come in here and take our jobs away from us.
You folks in Smoketown have done your best to git
your rights in a peaceable manner, and you ve got the
worst of it. Now, if you say the word, we'll j’in ye in
runnin’ the dagoes out of town. We can do it, too.
You bet!”

“You bet we can!” echoed the others, in a hearty
growl.

“I’m much obliged to you, friends,” said Blair
quietly; “but what you propose would mean strife,
fighting, and shedding of blood. The Italians would
fight.”’ .

“Never mind that,” grinned Hammerhead. “It
would be a pleasure for the boys to kill a few dagoes.”

“But the Italians might not be the only ones killed
in the encounter. It is my belief, by the record of
strikes in the past, that labor cannot win through vio-
lence.”

“If you can’t win no other way, how be ye goin’
to win at all?” questioned the huge man from Lob-
sterville.

“The solution of the problem lies.in the hands of the
laboring man,” answered Blair. “When we are
united, when we are led by honest leaders, we shall
have strength enough to win our cause with our
votes.”” :

“But what are ye goin’ to do till that time comes ?”

“Wait, my ftiend—wait and work. Out of our
present, misfortune and suffering will come the final
triumph that shall give us justice. No, boys,” added
Blair, with determination, “I can’t give the word for
you to carry out your plans. I thank you for your,
offer, but it’s useless to try that scheme.”

In, the meantime Gideon Hammerhead was talking
to Agatha in another room.

“It ain’t no use, Aggie,” Gid was saying. “Old
Blackpool knows he’s got the best of your father and
the strikers,

sion.

I’ve allus liked ye sence the fust time I see ye here in
Smoketown. I’ve gut a string of fifty traps off the |

Cow’s Ear, and I’m makin’ a mighty good livin’ at my ~
business. I’ve gut some money saved up, too. Now, —

oe

You’re in a hard place over here, for —
your father is flat on his back and you're destitute. —

     
     
      
 
  
 
 
 
   
     
  
  
  
 
   
   
    
 
   
  
   
   
 
  
  
  
  
   
  
 
  
  
  
  
 
  
  
 
 
 
 
  
 
  
  
  
   
 
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
       
    
TIP “TOP: WEEKLY;

Aggie, if you will say the word, I'll hitch up to ye and
take you and your folks right over to Lobsterville and
take keer of ye all.”

The girl shrank from him, her face pale with alarm.

“Oh, no, no!’ she breathed. “You don’t know
what you’re saying. I thank you, Mr. Hammerhead,
but I—I couldn’t do that.”

“Mebbe I’ve spoke too sudden; mebbe I’ve scat ye.
Mebbe you'd better think it over. I mean business,
and I guess I’d make a good husband for ye, too. [’ll
give ye this arternoon to think about it. Some of us
ain't goin’ back till toward night. I'll see ye a’gin, and
mebbe by that time you'll change your mind.”

At this moment the disappointed committee, led by
Gid’s father, came from Adam Blair’s room, and
marched out of the house. Gideon joined them, again
assuring Agatha that he would see her later.

Their work in Smoketown done, a part of the in-
vaders left for home in the sailing-boats which had
brought them swooping down updt the place. Twen-

_ ty-five or thirty of them remained behind and passed
the rest of the afternoon talking with the strikers in
. the most friendly manner.

_Merriwell and his friends also lingered in mcke.
town.

The sullen dusk of a smoky night was settling over
the place when Brian Blackpool, acconipartied by Dill-
twitter, McTeague, Reddy Perkins, and Goggles
Grady appeared at the hotel *.*-,

“I, see you’re still here, Merriwell,” said young
Blackpool, with a laugh. “T suppose you're waiting
for still further excitement, but I fancy the fun is all

overt.’

Barely had he spoken these words, when little Torn
Blair came hopping and pegging toward them, crying
incoherently with agitation and terror.

“Sister—my sister !*’ screamed the cripple. “They
are carrying her off! She took me with her to the
__. post-office, looking for a letter from Mr, Holmes.
They grabbed her, and they’re carrying: her off to Lob-
_ stérville.”

- Merriwell had the little fellow by the shoulder,
sat itoky many of them, Tom?” he asked.

“T saw three. Oh, Dick, can’t you oe her-—can’t
you save her?” - (at
Dick did not. answer, bat, crying to ut companions,
he started at a rtm down the dusky street that led
toward the harbor-front. Buckhart and Steele were
close behind him, and Blackpool, who had shouted
-for his friends to follow, was at Dick’s very heels.

The panting youths reached the pier in time to dis-
- cover some “dark fig gures ney, scrambling into a boat
ty beside. the float.
Brian Blackpool did not «wait to descend the steps.
A daring leap carried him from the pier to the float.
He clutched one of those dusky figures and found his
hands fastened upon Gideon Hammerhead, who was
es, the point of stepping into the boat.

eae Balai ¥ eae Brian.

‘pled with the son of the Smoketown magnate. They
stargered to the end of the float and before any one
could prevent,’ still. grasping each other, plunged
splashing into the water. Released by Hammerhead’s
desperate companions, Agatha Blair flung off the tar-
patilin that had been thrown over her head, and sprang:
from ‘the boat into the arms of Dick Merriwell.

Before ae could be checked, the men in the boat
pushed off, dipped their oars into the water, and pulled
away, hee ae of the fate of their leader.

Agatha fainted in Merriwell’s arms.

Foss Dilltwitter, the last to arrive, came stumbling
and sprawling down the steps to the float.
' “My starth!” he spluttered. “I'll bet I broke my
watch-crythtal! Where ith Brian?”

Where was Brian? Others were asking the ques-
tion. It was answered directly by the appearance of
: human head and a pair of ; shoulders near the float.

Blackpool’s friends pulled him out of the water.

“Agatha!” he cried chokingly—— “where is she?”

“T opine she’s all right,” answered Buckhart. “My
pard has her.” |

“Thank Heaven!” muttered young Blackpool. |
“What's become of those whelps who tried to carry
her off?”

“Yonder they go in the boat,” said Steele, pointing —
toward the receding hulk which was fading with —
clanking oars into the gloom that shrouded the bosom _
of the harbor. e

“Yonder they go, with the exception of the gent
who went in swimming with you,” said Buckhart.
“He isn’t with them. What’s become of him?”

They waited in vain for the reappearance of. Gid-
eon Hammerhead. Amid the dark, slimy spiles be-
neath the wharf the tide gurgled with a sound like
the choke in a drowning man’s throat, but it ate
no token to denote whether Gideon Hammerhead had
escaped or was now lying upon the muddy bottom into _ 4

‘which those spiles were sunk.

THE END.

The Noxt Number (590) Will Contain a
Dick Merriwell’s Camp Mates —
eo bade

OLD CHUMS ON THE FIELD.

The Rescuers—Tne Whistling Hatchet—Friends or Foes :
_+-Pitching the Tent—Obediah Gets What He Wants «
New Arrivals—The Widow Witkins—Mr. M’Kay .
“Loses His Job-A Chip of the Old Bae

Blackpool’s Bluff—The Grave—A Hot Finish. Sieh

 

 
 

LE Or

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

NEW YORK, July 27, 1907.

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_ who contribute to this department must not expect to see them before
_ that time,

 

 

 

 

 

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(A letter from New York.)

Over five years ago I read my first “Tip Top Weekly.”
. Have read them ever since. I have read every number from
No. 1 to 580. .

As I can not find words to express ‘my regards for “Tip Top,”

I will always try and show my appreciation of the good I have

received from this excellent weekly in a more satisfactory manner
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I have introduced “Tip Top” to eight lads of about my own

WEEKLY.

27

age—nineteen—in a little over six months. That is, I have got
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Would be pleased to furnish their addresses upon request.

I can quite agree with Jno. L. Kartnich, New Jersey, that “Tip
Top” No. 568 is very near the best one published to date.

Well, as I do not want to take up too much of your valuable
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will continue the good work for the king of weeklies.

Cuas. L. Kuwn.

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I will make my first attempt to write a letter and perhaps it
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year ago, and now I can’t wait until it gets here, and I read
the back numbers, and I also have all the neighbors’ boys and
girls interested in them. All I can say, they are fine, and I
hope. Mr. Standish will live to be a hundred years old and write
for us every week. JosepH MENGE,

You ask in a postscript about the “Tip Top” post-cards; but we
are sorry to say they are all gone. It is too bad you did not
come earlier.

(A letter from Pennsylvania.)

As I have been a reader of your famous boy’s weekly for over
two years, I feel it my duty to express my opinion in regard
to it. As a magazine for boys, “Tip Top” has no equal. I
wish to thank Burt L. Standish for the wonderful work he is
doing for Young America. His descriptions of all athletic
sports are amazing. I think the new form of “Tip Top” is an
improvement, but I was never ashamed to be seen reading it
or of asking others to read it.

I do not wish to boast, but since I have started reading “Tip
Top” I have induced eight others to do so. Any one with the
true “Tip Top” spirit will not keep such reading to himself, but
will try to do some missionary work for it.

I like Dick and the new flock the best. Perhaps this is be-
cause I have read more about Dick. However, I have many
of the Medals in my possession, and love to read about Frank,
also.

I admire the character of Chester Arlington, and am sincerely
glad to hear he has reformed. I am looking forward to see him
enter Yale this year. How is it that we do not hear anything
of Frank’s school any more?

The last thing I heard of Cap’n Wiley he was in a passenger-
car with Dick and Brad.

I also admire the new characters at Yale; viz.: Jones, Tucker,
Bigelow, Claxton, and Kates. I think Dunc Ditson will be
friendly with Merriwell some day. Am glad to know, Sparkfair
is at Harvard. I hope he makes the eleven in the fall.

I hope Frank Merriwell, Jr., will be like his father.

Well, I must close, hoping to see this letter in print in the
Applause column, I remain, an ardent “Tip Topper.” ;

DonaLp BACHERT.

Poor Cap’n Wiley has gone hence as was mentioned in a
recent number. The school will doubtless be brought forward
again. See what we have done with your name at the head of
this department. ,

Being a reader of your leading weekly, I take pleasure in
writing these few lines. a
‘I cannot begin to tell you how much I admire these stories..
While on a trip by train I met a lad reading a “Tip Top”;
feeling rather lonesome at the time, I borrowed the weekly. It
was No. 87, and I: have it yet. eet
I not only wish to praise “Tip Top” as foremost in good
reading, but the source from which I have received some helping _
hints. ga
Returning from my trip in the fall, I found the boys getting

together a club, and, in making up the rules, barred all novels. _
I got to the club-house a little early one Friday evening and sat

down in a corner to digest the doings of Frank Merriwell. Ten

minutes later the fellows began coming in, and, of course, called
me. down, and’I tell you I felt rather cheap, for you see not one —

 
TIP TOP WEEKLY.

of the seventeen had ever read a “Tip Top.” Well, I threw
my weekly in a corner and made my stay as short as I could.

I hadn’t been at the club-house for close onto three weeks, so
f thought I would go in and see how they were getting along.
I opened the door and all I could see was seven “Tip Tops”
being held up in front of fourteen very wide-awake eyes, and
ten down-hearted but very quiet membets of the same club
waiting for some one to finish a “Tip Top.” The following
Friday I found eleven “Tip Tops.” It seems they. had found
the discarded “Tip Top.” T. A. McGtnry.

Pretty good. We cannot remember a case where “Tip Top”
created so wonderful a revolution as this. Still, there are three
boys as yet unaccommodated. See that they also have their
copy.

(A letter from Indiana.
fT am a “Tip Topper’ and am proud to say so.
bookseller does not get the weekly it almost drives me mad. [|
hope Burt L. will live a hundred years. I could still read his
stories. My friends—whom I let read my “Tip Tops,” five in
number—are wild over them, One thousand cheers for B. L.
S. and S&. & S. I will close: Paut R. Baucu.

It would be still better if you influenced each of these friends .

to owfi a copy himself. Try it.

Having been at college for three years, I have read more than
I would otherwise have done. If have read nearly every number
since the middle of September, 1903, and think they’re fine.
They well, deserve the title king of weeklies. I have also read
a good many other weeklies, but “Tip Top” beats them all,
With love to all the girls end best regards to “Tip Top,” I
remain, Hooty. HAPPIGAN.

La Porte, Texas,

No doubt the “girls” will reciprocate your jolly. You know
a good thing when you see, it. We hope you may long enjoy
the pleasures of your beloved and faithful “Tip Top.”

As I’m a reader of the “Tip Top Weekly” and I do not see
any letters in your Applause column from far-off Australia, I
thought I would drop a line to let you know that the “Tip
Top” has readers out here as well as in its native land. I have
been a reader of the “Tip: Top” for a good while now. I
started at about No. 20,but have not read every number since, as
they are not available. Our news-agents get them in lots of
50 at a time, and if you don’t hurry up you don’t get any at all,

' They seem to be the favorite paper. 1 think it is rightly named
as the “Ideal Publication.” They would laugh at me when
_ used to buy the “Tip Top,” but when I gave them to one ‘or
_two of my friends to read it was my turn to laugh. After I
have tead my “Tip Tops” I give them away to somebody who
has not read them before, and they always come back and ask
‘me where they can buy them. I think Frank is just splendid
-,and so are all of his friends. Of all the lot I like good old
Bart Hodge, but I think he has been Frank’s true friend through

everything. I was pleased to hear that Frank married Inza, and

I hope they have every prosperity in life. I just received six
more “Tip Tops” to-day. It was a pleasant surprise for me
when I went to the news-agents to-day, and when I looked at the
date I found that they are two years old, but as I gee by Mr.
Standish’s letters, he is likely to be writing for “Tip Top” for
another nine years. I won’t be late for the Applause—that’s if
it reaches it and escapes the waste-paper basket. I think I have
had my say. Wishing “Tip Top” and all its friends best wishes,
if this does happen to appear in the column, I hope some of
_ your kind/readers will correspond with me. I will exchange post-
lw ta with every one who wishes to write. ‘

Wishing you every success with your ideal little, magazine,
I remain. ei Avr ASHMAN.
Sa Newaastle, New South Wales, Australia.

Here is a chance for some of our young friends to strike up a_

correspondence with a lover of “Tip Top” away off in the
_ Antipodes. . sea
ti bs FY si : ; ;

POP esha _\ (A letter from Pennsylvania.)
I have been reading “Tip Top Weekly” for six years and
think that it is the best five-cent weekly published. I am also

_ yery much pleased with the new cover, as if is a great improve-

NS ae ; ee ae) Re F ab HAS ; (ye , , f

When the |

writers.

ment, and no one should be ashamed to have it in their library
at home. I find very many pleasant hours in reading “Tip Top.”
I like all the characters, and think Mr. Standish is a great writer.
I have succeeded in getting ten boys to read “Tip Top” and be-
come loyal to this famous weekly, and they are as unlimited in
their praise for “Tip Top” as I am; and we are always praising
it, though some people are skeptical and laugh at us for reading
it, but we know a good thing when we see it.
I remain a loyal reader, GreorGE Epwarp Cook.

You are doing a good work, friend George, and we hope you
will persist in it still further. “Tip Top” is. the only boy’s
weekly that invariably cares for the morals of the boys.

(A letter from New York.)

Would you please send me a copy of your Medal Library’
catalogue, as I want to get a list of the Merriwell books? It
is my opinion the Merriwell stories are the best published. And
another favor that I want to ask you is, if you have any more
of those postal cards’ of Merriwell and his friends I would be |
pleased if you would send me a set of them. I had one set of
them, and I have got quite a lot of friends out of town, all of
whom are Merriwell readers, and I told them that I had them,
and. they kept urging me to send them one, and so I sent them
to them. And the consequence is that I have none for myself,
and so I. would be very much pleased if you would send me
a set for my own personal use.

Thanking you in advance, I remain. FRANK C. Jotty.

We are sending you the catalogue, but regret to say the “Tip
Top” post-cards have run out, owing to the unprecedented and
long-continued demand.

It is with profound pleasure that I submit these few lines of — |
gratitude for the great and only “Tip Top.” I have read them
for over two years, and ever since I started have found no
other story to take its place, as it is up to date, and gives you
an idea of real good college and outdoor life.

As all the boys down here are always asking for back numbers |
of the, “Tip Top,’ I would like if some of the readers would —
exchange’ me some or sell me some, so as to be able to exchange _
with the boys here. Ap

I will exchange post-cards, comic or view, with any one, and

would like to join all clubs in connection with the “Tip Top.” 4
Can any reader tell me the name of any ‘post-card exchanges |
that exchange post-cards with Europe, Asia, Africa, and other
foreign countries?
Wishing Burt L. and all readers the compliments of the sea- —
‘son, I remain. Frank B. Larce,

Charlottetown, Prince Edward Island, Canada.
We trust that some of our readers may see fit to respond to
this far-away cousin across the border,

(A letter from Texas.) ‘

Although I am an old reader of the “Tip Top Weekly,” this is
my first letter to the Applause column. I think the author of
the Merriwell series is one of the most gifted of modern —
Words cannot express my gratitude to him for the |
many hours of pleasure [ have spent in company with Frank
and Dick Merriwell and their friends, Be

Three mighty cheers for Mr. Burt L. and Street & Smith!
P. Loxo.

q
4

Thank you, son of the Lone Star State.

(A letter from Virginia.) ee,

I have read “Tip Top” from the very first number, and T have |
been intending writing for a year, but could never get the
courage. I have just finished reading No. 580, and I vertainly —
did enjoy Dick in his make-up as a farmer boy. I must say

_ that I dm most too much of a lover of “Tip Top,” for I'am al-

ways looking forward and anxious for the next issue. I am_
now getting along in years, and if I live to be a hundred years.
old L, will still be reading them. If 1 am not permitted to keep
my eyesight to that great age I will get my grandchildren ‘or
great-grandchildren to read them for me; for since reading the
first issue I have found my Inzie—I would much rather her

~name had been Elsie—I also have my little Frank and a June,
-and still another little girl. My Frank is now seven years old,»
and he enjoys looking at the beautiful covers of “Tip Top” and

 

 
ae: two years, and I think everybody thinks they are fine.

PROS Oe eS SOR -

pees (Lo
~~

~~

TIP TOP

also learning his letters from them. I like all the characters; but
next to old Frank I like Dick best, and Brad suits me to a T.
I notice that some one said in the Applause column that some
dealer in this city told him the Medal Library wasn’t published
any more; he must be mistaken, for there are two dealers here
who handle them and generally have a supply on hand. I used
to have some trouble getting the “Tip Top,” they were sold out
so’ fast; but I found out just when they arrived, and I was

sure there to get mine. :

[ am always telling about “Tip Top,” and I send them regu-
larly to a small friend I have in the country.

With greatest respect for Burt L. Standish, I remain yours,
an old reader. W. js. eat?

Lynchburg, Va.

We count this reader one of our standbys, and wish all good
things may come to the interesting little family spoken of in
this chatty letter.

(A letter from Michigan.)
. This is my. first letter to the Applause column, though I have
been a faithful reader. Starting from, last August till last of
February is the only time I have missed them since they were
_ first placed before the public, and would not have then, but I
was taken with motor-paralysis and have been laid up since,
but am gaining strength every day. It seems pretty hard to see
others walking, running, playing baseball, football, and lawn-
tennis when you have been left guard on the football-team and
_ catcher on the baseball-team. I used to weigh about 191 pounds,
bat have been down as low as 98 pounds im weight since sickness
_ took me; now I weigh about 130 and feel pretty good.
Wishing “Tip Top” many more years of success, as it has
Siven me perseverance and cheer in my affliction, I remain yours.
B. WinsLow THOMPSON,
Glad you have had your hold on life strengthened by these
constant infusions of Merriwell blood. That is the beauty of
“Tip Top’—it not only amuses but instructs boys how much
: better it is to have lofty ideals even though none may ever hope
- to fully attain all they seek.
; (A letter from Massachusetts. )
_Not having written to the Applause column before, I thought
T would send a few lines. I have been reading “Tip Top” for
I did not
save old ones, but I have from 520 to latest. I think the new
- cover is splendid, The man who draws them must be great. I
think the Blue Hills League was fine. Dick and Frank Merriwell
are the noblest and truest fellows I ever heard of. I have got-
ten 8 boys to read “Tip Top.” Three cheers for Burt L. Stand-
ish. Send me a catalogue. ELroy Soutp.

Your letter is all right, Elroy, and we could not wish for

better results from one boy’s reading of “Tip Top.” Now if

each of the eight you have influenced would go and do as well,
say, wouldn’t the news-agent in your town have, a booming
- trade? ; p

a (A letter from Mississippi.) — .
This is my first letter to the Applause column, although I

am very, fond of the “Tip Top.” -1 think the new covers im-

“prove it a great deal. In a news-stand when you see a “Tip
Top” the cover will attract your attention. There is one thing
I would like more about “Tip Top,” and that is that I wish it
would be published niore often, I like them to be about baseball-
games, IJ think Dick Merriwell is every inch an ideal young
n With three cheers for all that are connected with the
Topper.”
Harry F,. Heyman, —

b Many have wished the same thing, Harry, and in all cases

while waiting for the weekly “Tip Top” by reading all about
-Frank’s school-days and early adventures in the Medal Library

2 (A letter from Rhode Island)
1 wish to add my few words to the Applause column in your
“Tip Top Weekly.” ie haig

y

‘is made up of just such workers as you have proven.

best, and Burt L. for my author.

WEEKLY.

In praise of Burt L. Standish I cannot find words to express
my opinion of his work. As a boy’s writer, he stands in a class
by himself, and not only exciting baseball and football stories
can he write, but as in “Dick Merriwell’s Regret,” he shows
that he can bring forth, in a beautiful manner, the pathetic note
also. I thik your “Tip Top Weekiy” is a fine magazine, and
I am endeavoring to obtain the full set...The Merriwell stories
are not only interesting, but they put courage into a person, and
I find in describing things and giving records that Burt L. never
errs. I have persuaded five boys to read “Tip Top,” and I will
soon have three more. Hoping that this letter will be printed,
I remain, Yours truly,

ALEXANDER McCABeE, Jr.

You surely have the true “Tip Top” spirit, and we gladly
welcome you to a seat “among the mighty.” The Honor Roll
Cata-
logues have been sent as requested.

Alas I can wait no longer; at last I must write and sing my
praises of dear old “Tip Top.” I have read “Tip Top”) for a

~ good while, and am also reading the old numbers in the Medal

Library. Wake up, ye Californians, and sing your praises, and
don’t let the publishers think we don’t appreciate this noble
weekly. I would like to have Mr. Standish write something
of the earthquake city. He must be a wonderfully well-educated
man; 1 wish he would write more about dear old Frank and his
chums. I like Frank the best, but I suppose that it comes from
having read so much more about him. All must love the dear
Merriwell brothers. The part I cared most for of the stories
was when Frank was on his bicycle tour. I wish to congratulate

_ Frank on his success in getting Inza; she is a woman any man

would be proud to have as his wife. Hodge also was very lucky.
We are having a beauty contest with Chicago, as I suppase you"
know, for the most beautiful woman, and I think we are sure
to win. I have succeeded in getting some of my friends to
read “Tip Top,” and will always work for the good of dear old
“Tip Top.” May she continue to be published from generation
to generation,
Standish, S. & S., “Tip Top,” Chester Arlington, and the Merri-
well brothers and theit chums, and will end with the good old
Yale cheer:
“Here’s to good old Yale,

Drink it down, drink it down,
She’s so hearty and so hale,

Drink it down, down, down.”

Leonarp ULSAKER.
- Your enthusiasm is inspiring, Leonard, and we trust you will
be able to enjoy your favorite paper for many years to come.

(A letter from Texas.) , ‘
As I have been a constant reader of “Tip Top” the past six

years, I think it is due time I was expressing my opinion of it. —

I think it is the best reading-matter that ever hit the “pike,” and -
it is the best that ever will hit the pike. When I was about ten
years of age | would buy “Tip Top,” and read it at the barn or —
somewhere else on the sly, because my parents, objected to my |

reading it. As my mother saw me constantly reading it on the |
sly, she said she had rather I read it before her than otherwise. —
I have-been reading them to this present day, and I always will
just as long as Burt L. is the author. I am a great reader, and —
read everything I can get my hands on, but “Tip Top” is my .
Let us hear from Richard
Haily again. I am interested in Chester A., and I am waiting

and watching to hear something from him. Let us hear of Frank -
Merriwell, Jr, and Inza. I like Brad Buckhart, for he is a true-—

hearted Texan, and Burt L. knows how to describe a Texan to
a T. I think lots of Jack Diamond and Robert Claxton. Wish-—
ing a long and hearty life to Burt L. and Street & Smith, I will .
end this eulogy. I remain a true-hearted Texan. Le

J Prip SCARBOROUGH.

P, S.=If this goes to the waste-basket I will at feast have the
satisfaction of letting Burt L. know what I think of his golden
weekly. I think the new cover has improved “Tip Top” in
many people’s minds. © gimm

‘We only hope your parents have realized from your character

‘what an uplifting force lies in the clever Merriwell stories. You

4

_ did not tell us how much influence their teaching had upon

daily Way of living, both morally and physically. ae

te)
a tie

 

Well, I will close, wishing success to Burt L.
=

PST

ee

i one of my height?

 

 

 

(A letter from New York.)

Pror. FourMEN: Having read your famous king of weeklies
for a number of years, I take the liberty to ask you a few ques-
tions. Age, 20 and 6 months; weight, 120 pounds; height, 5 feet
6 inches. I am not what you might call an athlete. I play base-
ball in the summer and basket-ball in the winter, but I am not
very good at either on accdunt of my wind. I have smoked
cigarettes a great deal, and have kept late hours, dancing. I am
willing to become an athlete if you will give me proper instruc-
tions. I am very thin, and would like to become fat. 1 work in
the woolen mills, 11 hours a day, so I do not take much ex-
ercises. Joun A. Dontey.

Give up cigarettes and go to bed early to begin with. If you
do not do this there is no use of my giving you any instruc-

tions. Get a pair of Indian clubs and a punching-bag. Use _

these fifteen minutes when you get up in the morning. Then
take a sponge-bath and rub-down. Play outdoor games as much
as possible. Fresh air, exercise, sunlight, and water will make
you healthy. poe

j

.. Pror. FourMEN: Being a loyal reader of the great “Tip Top,”
I thought it was up to me to see what you thought of my records.

Age, 16 years; height, 5 feet 514 inches; weight, 126 pounds; .

neck, 1414 inches; biceps, 134 inches; chest, normal, 32 inches;
expanded, 36 inches; thighs, 20 inches; calf, 13% inches. Rec-
—ords, 100 yards in 12% seconds; mile, 6 minutes 39 seconds;
running broad jump, 12 feet 10 inches; standing broad jump, 8

_. feet 2 inches. 1] am very fond of outdoor games, especially foot-
ball and baseball.

Last fall I played quarter for a fast little
amateur team called the “Winonas,” and am playing short and
third for a baseball-team. This fall I intend going out for my
class team at high school for quarter-back and hope and expect to

_ make it, j;

1. How are my records? /

2. Could I make a first-class quarter with a good team?

3. How am I built. for an all-around athlete?

Rochester, N. Y. ' Dick Roperts.

1. Very good. eons
2. Yes, if you train faithfully for the position. —
3. You ought to develop into a very athletic person.

i

(A letter from Oregon.)

_ Pror. Fourmen: I have read a great many “Tip Tops” and
think ‘they are the best, weeklies published. I ask you to kindly
answer a few questions referring to\ my measurements. My
measurements are as follows: I am 12 years old; height, 5 feet;
weight, 90 pounds; neck, 1214 inches; biceps, 914 inches; forearm,
9 inches; chest, normal, 30 inches; expanded, 33 inches; waist,
26 inches; thigh, 18 inches; calf, 12%4 inches. I am a great lover
of baseball and football. Will you please recommend an exercise

for the leg above the knee? I am weak there. Will you please

give me the correct weight. and the standard measurements, for

earn Bhi
A person 5 feet in height should weigh 103 pounds; his neck
should be 11% inches; waist, 29 inches; chest, 32 inches; biceps,

»

 

 

 

 

11% inches; forearm, 814 inches; thighs, 15 inches; calves, 1114
inches. The leg exercise of the United States Army setting-up
exercises will give you what you need for your thigh.

(A letter from West Virginia.)

Pror. FourMeN: I ama reader of “Tip Top,” and have been
for four years, but I have never written before, so I thought I
would write and send my measurements. Age, 17 years; weight,
148 pounds; height; 5 feet 9 inches; chest,-normal, 34 inches; ex-
panded, 38 inches; neck, 1414 -inches; waist, 30 inches; biceps, 10
inches; forearm, 10 inches; thighs, 21 inches; calves, 13 inches.
Please tell me what you think of the measurements for a boy
of my age. A Loyat “Tie Topper.”

Train to take on more weight. Use a pair of Indian clubs and
dumb-bells

(A letter from Florida.) ;
Pror. FourmMen: I have been reading the “Tip Top” for a
long time. I take the liberty of asking a few questions. The |
following are my measurements. My age is 11 years; height, 4
feet 10 inches; weight, 82 pounds; chest, normal, 30 inches; ex-
panded, 33 inches; waist, 31 inches; neck, 1314 inches; biceps, —
13% inches; calves 12%4 inches; forearm, 9% inches. I blow a.
bugle 15 minutes before every meal to get a good pair of lungs,
I have a punching-bag, trapeze, horizontal bar, dumb-bells that
weigh 2 pounds, and a pair of Indian clubs. I play baseball and
football. Do you think I can become an athlete?
Ernest Durst.

Instead of blowing a bugle, which will injure your lungs if —
persisted in to any great extent, take deep-breathing exercises of
five minutes duration, night and morning. You can develop a
very athletic physique if you train properly.

Pror. Fourmen: I have been a constant reader of the “Tip
Top Weekly,” and have never written to you before. I think —
it is about time to do so, and I write asking you whether you :
will please answer a few questions for me. I am 13 years old; —
height, 4 feet 6 inches; weight, 80 pounds; chest, normal, 29 —
inches; expanded, 3014 inches; waist, 29 inches; biceps, normal,
8 inches; expanded, 9 inches; thigh, 14 inches; calves, 11% inches.

I should like to know whether I will ever take a jump and become

any taller, for I think I am small for my age. Another thing,
I would like to know whether my measurements are good or not, ~
New York City. «hi saes
A boy at your age is just beginning to get his growth. You \
might “sprout up” rapidly at any time and develop into a “six-
footer” before you reach twenty-one. ‘

i ‘
}

Pror. Fourmen: I have read*“Tip Top” for over a year, and
I cannot praise it enough. My first “Tip Top” found me a ciga-

rette-fiend, and I was just ‘starting to drink. “Tip Top” has
changed me so much that my former companions would not know
me, My parents appreciate the good that “Tip Top” has done ~
me. My measurements are: Age, 17 years; weight, ro7 pounds;

 

 
     
   

   
 

PLP ATOR

height, 5 feet 214 inches; chest, normal, 2934 inches;
e314 faches : waist, 252 inches; calves, 12 inches; biceps, 8%4
Ry inches ; expanded, 914 inches; neck, 12% inches; forearm, 8
a ine! hes. How can I take on more weight?” J. €. Froop, -
7) New York City.

_ You are a little overweight and should train to take off flesh.

expanded,

      
   
  
    

 

 

(A letter from Massachusetts.)
Pror. FourMEN: In reading “Tip Top” every week I noticed
Pe _ that you advise people as to their health, so I thought I would
7 . ask you a few questions about myself. I am 16 years old; 5 feet
_ tall; weigh only 103 pounds, am very w eak, which enalion any-
body to throw me, and am troubled with pimples and blackheads.
ae i look very pale. I would like to gain more weight, more
a3 _ Strength, BS 3:

   
  
  

\

 

You weight is all right, but you have neglected your health.
Take exercise with light dumb-bells, night and morning. Eat
~~ only plain food, avoiding everything of a greasy nature. Take a
~ daily sponge-bath, and hot baths twice.a week.

 

 
 
  
  
  
 
   
  
  
  
    
 
  
  
 
 
 
  

(A letter from Virginia.) ate

- Pror. Fotrmen: I have been a reader of “Tip Top” for about
one year, and hope you will kindly answer my questions.

1. What, are the best exercises to develop the chest, arms, back;
-and ueck?

‘day, and should it be done at night or in the morning?

3. What size dumb-bells should I use, and how long each day?
-' 4. What exercise is good for one training to be a boxer? I
am not going to take it up as a profession, but only want to
‘defend myself in case of need.

5. | am very short-winded, what will cure this?

: Lee R. Spoors.
1. A punching-bag, dumb-belis, Indian clubs, and a Whitely ex-
-erciser.

2. Five minutes, night and morning.

3. Use one-pound dumb-bells, ten minutes, night and morning.
4. Punching the bag and running to increase your power.

5. See answer to question 4

 

 

 

 Pror, FourmEN: My measurements are: Chest, contracted,
32% inches; normal, 34 inches; expen; 36% inches ; waist, 30

inches; biceps, 12% inches; Neck, 13% inches; forearm, 104
inches; thigh, 201% inches: calf, 1314. inches; weight, 11734

pounds; height, 5 feet 4 inches; age, 17 years.

New York City. Joseru .H; M. Crocco.

_ You are well built but do not get enough exercise to keep the
muscles supple. A person of sedentary occupation needs consider-
able exercise for the body to remain in good condition. These
- $ummer mornings you ought tobe up at five o’clock enjoying the
z fresh air.

WEEKLY.

2. How long should one practise deep-breathing exercise each

Take a two-mile run before breakfast every day at this

   

3i

    

hour.
get up take deep-breathing exercises for five minutes, followed by

Let ‘your running be brisk; never lag along. When you

ten minutes work with Indian clubs. Do not neglect to take a
sponge-bath after exercising. Play baseball Saturday afternoons,
and make it a point to stay otitdoors as much as possible.

 

Pror. FourMEN: I am 15 years old and am 5 feet 334 inches
high, and weigh 104 pounds. My other measurements are, neck,
24 inches; chest, expanded, 33 inches; waist, 27 inches; thigh,
19 inches; calf, 1214 inches; biceps, 814 inches; flexed, 914 inches;
forearm, 9 inches; flexed, 10 inches. How can | increase my
weight and height? Am I the average size for a boy of my age?
I have been captain and manager of our baseball and football-
team for several years, and I am a stanch supporter of “Tip
Top.” I am in favor of having little lectures on athletics in the
physical culture department. NAMELOC.

New York City.

You can increase your weight by exercise and proper diet
but there is no known way of making yourself grow taller.

: (A letter from Florida.)

Pror. FourMeN: In looking through the latest “Tip Top”
I see that a reader asks you to leave out the questions and an-
swers, and put in lectures once in a while, and as you reply that
the views of readers are wanted I send in mine; I think that,
though the questions and answers are very important and are

all liked, lectures would be as good, if not better. Give the
readers a little talk on athletics every two weeks. Here’s hoping
that all readers agree with me, and send in their views

Sam SoLomon.

What do other readers say to this dichobed change? While
retaining the Question and Answers department, there should be
a short talk on some athletic subject once a fortnight, according
to this “Tip Topper.”

 

(A letter from Kansas.) |

Pror. FourMEN: Being a constant reader of the “Tip Top —
Weekly,” I take the liberty to ask you a few questions concern-
ing my physical state. I am 6 feet tall; weight, 153 pounds;
chest, 36 inches; expanded, 38 inches; waist, 29 inches; neck, 14
inches; am 18 years of age. Please name some method by which
I can enlarge my neck. I have an “Adam’s apple.” Please
state if this can be removed or if by any method it may be made
invisible. F. J. M.

Why do you want to be different from other individuals of |
the male species? Everybody of our sex has an “Adam’¢/apple.”
The only way to get rid of it is to have the whole throat re- ,
moved. Surely you want something left for swallowing pur-
poses!

Use the United States Army setting-up exercises for building
up the muscles of your neck.

 

~

 

cap. Is this not worth working for, boys?

 

be properly made out.

 

Tip Top Baseball Tournament Is Now seam

The two teams which, at the end of the season, have the highest average—the members of

DON’T FAIL TO SEND IN YOUR COUPON AT ONCE.

No notice taken of any score not entered ona coupon.
One coupon ay each ee

 

 

  
 
     
          

which play the greatest number of games, score the most runs and have lost the least number of Ae -
| games, will be declared the winners. Of the two winning teams, the one having the higher Pa te
| | average will be declared the Tip Top Championship Team of the All-American Pe
|. | Baseball Tournament for 1907, and will receive a handsome pennant bearing an 7 ee
_ | appropriate device. The two successful clubs in 1906 were the ‘‘Unions” of sve atl / ‘ aera
‘N. J., and the ‘‘Athletes” of Circleville, O. Each winning team will receive a full ed sa ‘- :
equipment for nine members, consisting of trousers, Bist, stockings, shoes and VA if ¥ ie

Coupons must

  
   

 

 

  

ISSUED EVERY FRIDAY

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HANDSOME COLORED COVERS

 

ing in this weekly.

Never has Burt L. Standish written such interesting tales of the
adventures of the Merriwell brothers, Frank and Dick, as are now appear-
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,
Top’s stories are going to astonish you.

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

Do not fail to buy this weekly.

 

 

HERE ARE THE

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

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

-859—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.

562—Frank Merriwell’s C aptive; or, The Folly of -Ches-
ter Arlington.

The Boy from

  
    
    
  
  
  
   
  
   
   
   
    
  
  
  

Fool.
_ §64—Frank Merriwell’s Talisman; or, The Charm of
Cocheta.
565—Frank Merriwell’s Horse;
Would Be Bad.
§66—Frank Merriwell’s Intrusion; or, Warner, the Man
Who Won. —
567—Frank Merriwell’s Bluff; or, The. Lost Sefiorita of
eae Sonora.
‘§68—Dick Merriwell’s Regret; or, The Friend He Never
% Knew.
669—Dick Merriwell’s Silent Work; or,
a Hand for a Foe.
§70—Dick Merriwell’s Arm; or, The Trick that Fooled
Mets the Tricksters.
— §71—Dick Merriwell’s Skill; or, The Prince of the Pistol.
Lo ee Magnetism ; or, The Curing of a
| d

or, The Boy Who

A Helping

ase

563—Frank Merriwell’s Trailing; or, The Flight. of a

 

LATEST TITLES:

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

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

Team. .
575—Dick Merriwell’s Twirling; or, Tracing the Traitor.
570—Dick Merriwell’s Party ; or, Springtime’s Youthful
Fancy.

Tip —

aati

  
  
  
 
 
 
 
 
    
   
   

 

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

Bat.
578—Dick Merriwell’s Coach; or, Pride and Prejudice. |
579—Dick Merriwell’s B ingle ; or, A Hit in Time.
580—Dick Merriwell’s Hurdling: or,
Satellites.
581—Dick Merriwell’s Best Work;
Hard Proposition.

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

Calmface.

The Star and the 4

or, Up Against a |

583—Dick Merriwell’s Disadvantage ; or, The First Game

with Harvard.
584—Dick Merriwell Beset;

Harvester.
585—Dick Merriwell’s Great Rival;

on the Slab.

or, The Revenge of Quinn 4
or, Dale Sparkfair 4

or, Betrayed by a |

586—Dick Merriwell’s Distrust;
Blotter. a
587—Dick Merriwell, Lion-Tamer; or, Ate, Queen of ~
the Air. .

ea Metrriwell’s Camp-site; or, The Peril at Pine ;

Point.

&89-—Dick Merriwell’s Debt; or, Settling the Score With

Smoketown.

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

STREET & SMITH, Publishers, 79 Seventh Avenue, NEW YORK CITY.

Postage stamps taken the same as money,

    
 
“LD

rumes ate DLP TOP WEEKLY <-....
Numbers of the Secured
re. 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 con-
taining his early adventures are entirely out of stock and will not be reprinted.
These numbers, however, were published in the Medal Library beginning
with No. 150 which is entitled “Frank Merriwell’s Schooldays.”” We give
herewith a complete list of all the Merriwell stories that have been pub-
lished in book form up to the time of writing.

We will send a complete catalogue of the Medal Library, which is just
full of good things for boys, on receipt of a one-cent stamp to cover postage.

 

————_______—_— —_—__—__—,

MEDAL LIBRARY MEDAL LIBRARY

AT 10 CENTS AT 10 CENTS

150—Frank Merriwell’s Schooldays. 304—Frank Merriwell’s Own Company.
167—Frank Merriwell’s Chums. 308—Frank Merriwell’s Fame.
178—Frank Merriwell’s Foes. 312—Frank Merriwell’s College Chums.
184—Frank Merriwell’s Trip West. 316—Frank Merriwell’s Problem.
189—Frank Merriwell Down South. 320—Frank Merriwell’s Fortune.
193—F rank Merriwell’s Bravery. 324—Frank Merriwell’s New Comedian.
197—Frank Merriwell’s Hunting Tour. 328—Frank Merriwell’s Prosperity.
201—Frank Merriwell in Europe. 332—Frank Merriwell’s Stage Hit.
205—Frank Merriwell at Yale. 336—Frank Merriwell’s Great Scheme.
209—Frank Merriwell’s Sports Afield. 340—Frank Merriwell in England.
213—Frank Merriwell’s Races. 344—Frank Merriwell on the Boulevards.
217—Frank Merriwell’s Bicycle Tour. 348—Frank Merriwell’s Duel.
225—Frank Merriwell’s Courage. 352—Frank Merriwell’s Double Shot.
229—Frank Merriwell’s Daring. 356—Frank Merriwell’s Baseball Victories.
233—Frank Merriwell’s Athletes. 359—Frank Merriwell’s Confidence.
237—Frank Merriwell’s Skill. 362—Frank Merriwell’s Auto.
240—Frank Merriwell’s Champions. 365—F rank Merriwell’s Fun.
244—Frank Merriwell’s Return to Yale. 368—Frank Merriwell’s Generosity.
247—Frank Merriwell’s Secret. 371—Frank Merriwell’s Tricks.
251—Frank Merriwell’s Danger. 374—F rank Merriwell’s Temptation.
254—Frank Merriwell’s Loyalty. 377—Frank Merriwell on Top.
258—Frank Merriwell in Camp.

262—Frank Merriwell’s Vacation. NEW MEDAL LIBRARY
267—Frank Merriwell’s Cruise. AT 15 CENTS. (Increased Size)
271—F rank Merriwell’s Chase.

276—Frank Merriwell in Maine. 380—Frank Merriwell’s Luck.

280—F rank Merriwell’s Struggle. 383—Frank Merriwell’s Mascot.
284—Frank Merriwell’s First Job. 386—Frank Merriwell’s Reward.
288—Frank Merriwell’s Opportunity. 389—Frank Merriwell’s Phantom.
292—Frank Merriwell’s Hard Luck. 392—Frank Merriwell’s Faith.
296—Frank Merriwell’s Protégé. 395—Frank Merriwell’s Victories.
300—Frank Merriwell on the Road. 398—Frank Merriwell’s Iron Nerve.

 

 

STREET & SMITH, Publishers, NEW YORK

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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