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Issued Weekly.

—
By subscription $2.50 per year. Entered as Second-class Matter at the N. Y. Post Office, by STREET & SMITH, 79-89 Seventh Ave., 27. Y.
Entered according to Act of Congress in the year 1908, tn the Office of the Librarian of Congress, Washington, D. C.

 
  
 

 

No. 614.

NEW YORK, January 18,

   

1908. Price Five Cents.

 

BROTHER BACKING BROTHER.

\et

 

By BURT L. STANDISH.

.

 

e

CHAPTER I.

i
A MEETING.ON BROADWAY.
/

Although indicted on three criminal counts and held

for trial by the grand jury, J. Bradbury Blood had in-
' fluence and power enough to secure his temporary lib-
“erty on bail.

Of course, the bail was heavy, but the
scoundrel, who had made a fortune through a. chain
of bucket-shops, through the wrecking of railroads,

_. and through criminal methods if the stock- market, had

no difficulty in finding bondsmen.

On the very afternoon of his release the man bra-
zenly appeared on Broadway, wearing a silk hat, a

frock coat, and carrying a, heavy, gold-headed cane.
He swaggered ponderously and hoggishly down the
western side of the street, turning out for no one.

W. henever he breasted a stream of human beings mov-

ing i in the opposite direction Blood plowed through the
regardless of civility, even of common
He stared haughtily at men, and offensively

re

pedestrians.

quickened his step a bit, advancing straight toward .

young man made no move to turn aside, and Blood —

   
     
 
  
   
  
  
   
  
   
  
  
 
   
  
   
  
    

 

 

 

 

 

at women, especially if the latter ae to be no~
ticeably handsome. my
A square-shouldered, clean- fared, clear-eyed, finely
built young man, walking northward, saw Blood
brush’a man aside and pass between two friendly lady —
The eyes of the observer, usually brown
and mild and pleasant to look into, took on a sudden
gleam, which darkened their depths and wholly —
changed their appearance. His jaw squared, and he

the huge, oncoming man. ' i

They met face to face at the stteet corner. “The i
gave him a haughty look of surprise. In an instant
that look changed to one of. unspeakable sige and
hatred. The blood rushed into the big man’s florid.
face until it took on a purplish ‘tinge, while the veins

    
  

   
     

sing heavily. ity ante. he half- lifted his heav
cane as if he would nae a blow.

     
        
   
 

   

ate TOP

   

 
   

The eyes of the young man, steady, grim, and con-
/temptuous, looked straight into those of Blood with-
;out a waver or a quiver.

“Why do you hesitate?” said the cold, disdainful
voice of Frank Merriwell. “I would like to have you
strike me with your cane, Blood, for it would give me
an excuse to knock you down.”

“Get out of my path!’ wheezed the big man.

“Am I in your path? You are in mine, sir, and you
are the one who'll step aside. Already you have found
me. blocking. your path more than once. I have
brought your villafhous career to a halt, but I shall
not be satisfied until you go to Sing Sing, where you
belong.” i

Slowly the big man vere his cane, the blood re-
ceding from his face, leaving it ashen pale, while into
his eyes came a look of fear that he could not hide.

“Bah!” he retorted, with an effort to’ssume an_air
ee of contempt. , “You talk as if you really thought your-
self the whole shooting-match, Merriwell. I swear I
believe you fancy you really. did do something re-
markable.” — |
_ “I met you more than half-way in your attempt to
~ squeeze me in S. W. & M. N. railroad stock. I got
out of your trap, and then I turned the tables on you
~ when you tried to slaughter me in Pablo-Mystery Con-
solidated. I held you for the police, along with your
accomplices, Graw and Smith, the night the Manhat-
‘tan Reform League caused the cops to go after you.
I think I have been something more than a thorn’ in
your side, Blood. You’re out on bail just now, but
unless you skip and let your bondsmen suffer, you'll go
‘fo. the pen. There’s not the slightest doubt of it?
_, The ‘huge man forced a grin to his unpleasant face.
“So you think, but T’ll fool you yet. By the way,

have a proposition to make to you. Let's step aside
down this street so that we'll be clear of the passing
crowd. It'll save me the trouble of sailing on yoy at
your hotel. 4 }

_ “Tf you were to call on me at my hotel,” said Reunite

AL should decline to see you. That being the case, Ill
give you a few minutes in which you may say your
say, and thenceforward i in future Tl waste no time in
passing words with : you", |

   
 
 

    
   
 
  

  

cant on. y i knees at my: feet.”

   

WEEKLY.

thing;
‘ Mexriivell, I was thinking’ ‘of you a short time ago. Bs

in an‘ effort to. save the company you had undermined.
You rejoiced when
used the money in a fruitless attempt to avert disaster.

| funds, borrowed without leave, from the bans. in which
obs not, eS growled Blood, “but dow’ t t be so sure |

- auitioipate the dice ‘dies mH have you a suppli- ;

  

      
 

They had moved some little distance from the cor-
ner and were now standing alone upon Twenty-eighth
Street, and speaking with such apparent calmness that

         
    
  
   
  
   
 
   
  
   
   
    
 

few who observed them fancied it was anything more — 1
than a friendly interview. k J

“Your courage seems to have revived,” said Frank. Cl t
“That’s the way with rascals of your caliber. They =

never realize they are done for until they find them- J 1
selves behind bars, and sentenced for a term-of years, _
You'll arrive there as sure as the sun rises in the east
and sets in the west.’ .
Again Blood summoned that derisive. grin to his
face, |
“You think yourself complete ate of the sitta-
tion, don’t you?” he scoffed. “Well, young man, you.
never made a bigger mistake in all your. life. You
fancied the fight between us was finished, and. that he
you were the victor.. Oh, no, the fight i is stillion, and sf -
you'll find the’ fiercest battle.to come. I admit that
you're clever in a way. You have the knack of win- cis

 

 
     
 

 

 
       
   
   
 

ning the sympathy and assistance of women,. You
have the knack of turning them into traitors wihio be-
tray their own friends. You began with’ “Mabel ioe: f
Morely. She was your ve st lady conquest it the St elt ao a
Estelle Graw was next.’ | cane A
“Hadn't you better cut’ the ladies out of’ this talk? ¥
As for Miss meet it’s an insult for you event to .
speak her name.’ y of
“Oh, indeed!” sneered Blood, toe #
“She was marked by you fer a victim, but chore oe yt
never was a time when you had a chance to carry o
your dastardly plan through. Let me tell you some- :

 
 

Blood. She read you from the start. She
knew you to be her enemy and the dastardly two-faced

      
  
  
 

   
  
    
   
 

whelp who had ruined her father, for you sold out the i
Morely Safety Cash Recorder Company to a rival | con-
cern in which you took a heavy interest. You let poor
old John Morely throw his last dollar into the breach :
C

e mortgaged his property and _

       
   
   
  
   

You were secretly ‘delighted when you learned that
Morely had appealed to Robert Conrad, who was en-
gaged to Mabel Morely, and that Conrad had stipplied

  
  

he was employed.

 
 

 

it ey you had es Aholdi ling Mabel | Morey in ;

  
 
 

i@

 

 

cepted the position,

lodrel
_ the Evil One himself.

help him. -
vented me from being jostled beneath the wheels of

fancy price to pay for your noble generosity.”

were deceiving her into believing you a benefactor
when yott got her a position as stenographer in the
office of Dennison & Drake, your rascally brokers. It
makes my blood boil as I think of your dirty scheme.
And it gives me great satisfaction to tell you that all
the while the girl was. wise to your devilish intentions,

-and she held herself so well on guard that you made

no progress whatever.

“In the meantime? being in the office of Bennison &
who had aided. you in the overthrow of the

Drake,
Morely Company,
find some evidence that would aid her in restoring the
‘fottunes of her father and her sweetheart, and would
bring about your punishment. That was why she ac-
Blood. You thought her
empty-minded girl whom you could deceive into the
belief that you were her benefactor. Shrewd? Why,
Blood, your head is thick as a block. Shrewd? Man,
your shrewdness has been that of a blundering scoun-
a time seemed to have the assistance of

she hoped to learn some secret to

an

who for

“T met John Morely in the West.
from taking his own life in despair.
age and promised to do everything in my power to
I met Rob Conrad. His strong hand pre-

I prevented him
I gave him cour-

a moving train at the Grand Central Station. I owed
him something in return, and I did my best to square
the debt. I*had some ready money, acquired through
the sale of a mining-claim in Cripple Creek, and I lost
no time in making a proposition to the officials of the
Newmarket National Bank, which I am happy to say
they accepted. The indictments against Conrad and

Morely were quashed, for I loaned Conrad the money

Whee pay back every dollar he had taken from the bank.

In that manner I placed him, his sweetheart, and John
Morely beyond the reach of J. Bradbury Blood, thé
contemptible whelp who had, planned and nearly ac-
complished the ruin of all three.”

CHAPTER II.

DEFIANCE.

Although Frank spoke in a voice calm and unex-

cited, his words flowed in an impettsous earnestness
that could not’ be thecked 1 by Blood. The corpulent
rascal was compelled to listen.

_ “Admitted that you did all that,”
cost you a pretty penny.

he sneered,
{
Ten thousand dollars was a

TIP TOP WEEKLY.

, 1f he Byes Conrad
rat money.”

“Some day
dollar of tl
“Rot! He’s branded as
an absconder even though you {xed it so he will not
be punished. What reputable concern is going to give

will pay back every

How is he going to do it?

him a position of trust in which he can earn money to
pay you back?”

“I’m going to give him such a position myself.”

“You?”

ees, é

“Oh, indeed! So that is it. I see, I see.
youll have Mabel Morely near at hand where

“Stop! Another word of that, Blood, and I shall
knock you down! You may sneer at me, and I shall
laugh, but don’t speak of her.”

“Oh, I’ve admitted that you’re clever in
winning the admiration and interest of the ladies. The
manner in which you captured Estelle Graw proved
that.”

“Estelle Graw, an unfortunate girl) betrayed into
the power of a scoundrel, her husband,
wretched old villain of a father. Old Smith
confessed it.

Then

 

very well,

The girl was brought up in a boarding-school, and
not until her father took her from the school and com-
pelled her to marry Graw did she ever suspect. the
fact that she was the daughter of a.crook. From the

very first her soul rebelled; but between such a father

and such a husband, she was forced into helping them
in their schemes.”
-“Let her tell, it,”’ sneered Blood. “Estelle was all
right until we ala the mistake of setting her to trap
you.
fascination of your strange influence: over women.
Then she balked.
riwell,

bling, didn’t she? Ho! ho! ho!
it!
clever. We rehearsed her thoroughly in that story.
We planned that she should follow you up, and meet
you apparently by chance.

She knew you were near at
She believed —

down by a street-car.
hand, for she had been following you.

you would offer assistance, and you did. Apoaredioaes :
she was terribly excited and overcome after her meet-
She told you that Graw

ing with Graw at that time.
was Luther Ouinn, who had ‘ruined her father and
jured him as New York.

by her*
himself
Her mother was a good woman, but un-_
fortunately she died when Estelle was very young.

She was all right until somehow she felt “hee

We did trap you handsomely, Mer-
She told you a beautiful story about her poor |
old father who had been ruined by bucket-shop gam-
And you swallowed —
I don’t wonder, for, treacherous or not, Estelle is —

She did it nicely. She pre- —
tended she was bewildered and in danger of being run’

She even, told you of the Ss

 
 
  
  
  
   
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  
   
    
 
    
 
    
  
  
  
 

 

Yeap
ke

      
 
      
      
    
       
       
     
       
   
       
       
     
   
   
   
 

 

    
     
    

>

      
   
       
         
       
     
. [ll admit that she was a terror.

plan of blackmail.
_ promise you in such a

cher father,

4 (IR TOR WEEKLY.

bucket-shop under the International Hotel, where she
believed her father might be found. You went there
and found Smith. You led him from the place, and
Smith led you into the trap in the basement of the old
warehouse. It was cleverly done, cleverly done.”

Blood’s sides shook like jelly as he laughed.

‘We had you foul,” he went on, “but we didn’t
reckon on the caprices of Estelle. When she learned
that you had balked and refused to sign the papers,
when’ she heard us discussing the advisability of put-
ting you out of the way, she rose up in her wrath, and
She swore you should
not remain another hour along with the rats in that
It was she who proposed the other
It was she who proposed to com-
manner that to save your repu-
tation you would agree to anythinhg.,; And then, with
she hustled down to the warehouse and set
That was unfortunate for us, Merriwell,

dark basement.

you free.

and devilish fortunate for you.

i

. I told her so.

‘Frank, with a smile.
than wetting my lips with that coffee.

» “TY had my doubts if the other scheme would work.
I arranged%t that Graw and I should

igi De concealed that night behind the portiéres in Es-
' “telle’s apartment.

You had promised her and her

father that you would call. It -was all arranged be-

} i tween the three of us that, in case Estelle’s plan went
‘wrong, we should jump you then and there.
us were to seize and strangle you into submission,
_ while the third took care of Estelle.
our plan might work, for you’ were on the point of

Two of
It- seemed that

accepting the drugged coffee when she balked again
and dashed it from your hand.”

“And there’s where you make \a aiek nat
“T had no intention of more
Already I wasi
suspicious and on my guard.”

“Only for the underhand workings of that Reform

Vikagie the cops would not have come in on us with-

out warning that. night,” declared Blood. “The police

were not told of the plan in time for our friends at
headquarters to tip us off. Even when they ‘broke into.

the house we might have escaped, but you had us
pret iHie muzzle ae a Minty jean

while you, through your influerice, have obtained lib-
erty. for a) time.

ui elle out of the ae of the authorities. I know

er spirited away 4

pose, but it got away from us.

‘man.

_ stock.
to the bow-wows.
i have plenty, of lieutenants at my command, ae ie: i

‘T-understand that you will try to get

that she will not appear against you at the trial. Youll
fail, Blood, for she will be held safely until the trial is
over and all three of have been sentenced.
Squirm, plan, plot as much as you please. You are in
the toils, and you'll have to take your medicine.”

you

“Perhaps so. Perhaps Estelle will send her own
father to Sing Sing, but don’t forget that she is
changeable, and when she realizes just what she is
As far as she is con-
I’ve

doing she may balk once more.
cerned, nothing is sure until it’s accomplished.
met men reputed to be much harder customers than
you, Merriwell, and I’ve downed them. T’'ll down
you yet. Everything is not going to your pleasute.
How about the strike at the Queen Mystery Mine?
You thought you were going to end it in a hurry,
didn’t you? We started that strike for our own pur-
Our man, Amboy,
confessed it was beyond his handling even, as we were
fighting you in the market for the control of Pablo-
Mystery Consolidated. You hold control, but the
Queen Mystery Mine is going to the dogs. How about
your strike-breakers under command of Douglas.
Saunders, your former mine superintendent ?= Ho! |

ho! ho! Where are.your strike-breakers? Where is et
If you don’t know, Phair

Saunders? Do you know?
tell you. ‘Saunders has been bought off. He's joined 3
the strikers, taking a number of his strike-breakers
with him. “The rest of the force has been dispersed.

‘At the mine everything is in the hands of the rioters as
On the Market, Pablo-Mystery is going down, down,

down.”
.“But it can’t go much farther,” said Frank,
there’s little of the stock to be purchased at any price.”

”

“Just now,” nodded Blood; “but wait.

to be dissolved and a new concern formed, with you —
at the head of it. That was a splendid plan, Merri- —

well, but now the influential men who a shoftt time |

ago were willing to go into the deal are holding back.

They demand that the trouble at the Queen Mystery — '

be settled before they commit themselyes. There you i
are. You've got a colossal job on your hands, young —
Your fortune is trembling in the balance. You
realize it, too.
but you fear to feave the East. Y ou know some of —
those men on whom you depend for support may be rs
come disgusted at any moment, and let go of thei |
If they do that, Pablo-Mystery will go chisel
‘Don’t. think I’m idle, Metriwell.

 

 

“Sox

You andyine.
Wyman Barring inveigled a number of moneyed men
into taking a lot of that stock.

 

The old concern was |

You’ d like to be at the mine to-day,
_ her husband, against her father.

 

AIP, TOR

of them are at work at the Queen Mystery. Some of
them are in Mexico. Why, it wouldn’t surprise me
any day to hear of a strike at the San Pablo.
should happen, even Wyman Barring himself might
throw up his hands and quit.

More than that, the tide is turning against you at the
very time when you seem victorious. It’s bound to be
your Waterloo. Perhaps you'll come to your senses
before you’re wiped out and ruined. Perhaps you'll
look me up and cry for-quarter. When you get ready
_ to do so there is one thing I shall demand of you. You
can reach Estelle Graw. Your influence over her is
supreme. Go
to her and ask her not to testify against me, against
If you explain that
Stich testimony from her will be your ruin, she’ll be
silenced,’ and not even wild horses can a: the truth
from her lips.”

“Have you finished, Blood?” asked Frank.

“Oh, yes,” was the answer, “I’m quite through,
I’ve said all.I have to say.’ }

“Then I'll say my say. Not even to save myself
from financial ruin will I enter into any negotiations
with you or your tools. If it costs every dollar I have
in the world, I'll stand back and let them put you
where you belong, in the penitentiary.”

Go to her and ask her to seal her lips.

CHAPTER IIL -

TO BREAK THE STRIKE.

:

. This was flat, and not even J. Bradbury Blood could
doubt that Merriwell meant it.

“All right,” said the big man, with a shrugging
movement of his thick shoulders. “I’ve heard others
talk that way before, and I’ve heard them squeal when
the pinch came. You'll squeal, Merriwell.”

To this Frank’s only reply was a look of disdain and
- contempt ‘which he could not express in words, He
wasted no further time upon Blood. |

_ Turning his back on the man, Merry walked: away,

id continued up Broadway as calmly as if nothing
had happened to ruffle him. At Thirty-third Street,
: as he was glancing at the clock on the Herald build-
an ing, some one spoke to him and hurried to his side.
It was Chester Arlington. ‘ .
a crapped in at your hotel, Mr. Merriwell,’ "he
said, ‘
when you would return. It’s lacky I met you.”
“How are you, Chester?” inquired Frank.
_ looking chipper, I declare.” a

If that ,

Did you fancy you had,
the battle won, Merriwell? Why, it’s only just begun. \ rough one for you.’

‘but you weren’t there, and they didn’t know —

“You're

WEEKLY. 5

“Oh, I have to keep up a front, you know. I be-
lieye in putting the best foot forward. The fellow
with a long face doesn’t get very far on the road to
prosperity.”

“That’s true, net thus far the road’s been a-rather

“Rather,” laughed Chet. “Why, I dreamed great
dreams of becoming a broker, and all that. I didn’t
dream for a moment that I was going into the office
of a rotten concern that would blow up in such a short
time. Dennison is dead; and Drake—well, I don’t
know where he is.. He’s keeping away from the in-
furiated customers who were fleeced by the concern.
As. for me, I’m looking for a job.’ I’m open to en-
gagements.”

“Perhaps ] may be able to assist you.” e

“But I fancy you’re having about all you can attend
to to look after your own affairs, Mr. Merriwell.”

“Well, I’m keeping busy,” acknowledged Frank,
with a ‘smile.
by walking to the Grand Central Station.
Chester.”

“Sure. Going to meet some one?”

“Yes, going to meet, Dick.” +

“What! Dick? You don’t mean it!” .

“Indeed, I do. He’s coming on to see me ere I
start West.’ ,

“You're going West?”

“Yes, I’m going out to the Queen Mystery. Dick’s —
holidays have begun, and I asked him to New York ©
in order that I might see him ere departing.”

“Well, I'll be delighted to see Dick,” Aeupies Ar- |
lington. ee
Leaving Broadway, they followed Sixth Avenue, |
unmindfal of the roar of the passing elevated trains.
At Forty-second Street they turned toward = east, |
Merry consulting his watch. ;
“Just about time enough to walk it,” he il ee
had time to spare, but I chanced to meet J. Bradbury.
Blood, and we patised to pass a few courtesies.” 7

4 eo what?” ‘etied Chet. “Courtesies? I can im

agine the sort of courtesies that would pass ‘between

you two. Met: Blood? Why, I thought they had

him in the jug.” it, ; ieee gh
“He’s out on ba

Comie along,

“And they let that man loose on aca did they f
It’s ten to one he'll jump his bonds.”

“He seems to think it won't be necessary,”
Frank. -

ea
“At Teast, I must confess that Blood is an-
optimist. Most men in his shoes would be despera :
and ad dejecter Blood 1 is s still full, of fight.” pecitt

 

“Just now I’m taking a little exercise
    

6

 

  
   
    
  
  
  
   
     
  
 
    
 

“Fight? I don’t see any show for him to fight.
What can he do?” f

to make trouble.”
“But you’ve got him rounded up.
» cape for him.
He’s a bad man. He’s black to ne core.
_afford to. show him the least mercy.”
“T have no intention of showing J. Bradbury Blood
mercy. Did you fancy I had?” .
“Well—well, I didn’t know. You—you have been
generous with so many of your enemies.”’

There’s

nO e@S-

SOTO Gant Zz

Nias

Tae

Sere

“But never with a man like this. Never with
man in whom I felt confident there was no sense of
-shame, no touch of remorse, no’grain of good. The
public safety demands that Blood should be put ane
where he can do no further harm.”’

Seniee' at the station. When the train pulled in, a
_ brisk-stepping youth sprang off, traveling-bag in hand,
and came quickly down the platform. His face lighted
with a smile as he discovered Frank. The brothers
met with a hand-shake- and an air that, told of the
depths of their affection.
“Don’t overlook me, Dick, old man,’
laughingly.
ig (Why, Arlington, you here?” cried Dick, as, he
shook hands with Chet. |
, “Right here, Johnny-on-the-spot. Hew. are things
at New Haven? How is Old Eli coming? Is the bull-
dog good and frisky these crisp days?”

’ called Chester

‘contemplating Johnny Harvard’s scalp,” laughed Dick.

_ They took a cab to the Hotel Astor, and there they

found a quiet, mie -eyed young man who was Poe
Frank:

“So you re here, Conrad,” said Merry, as he shook

hands with the man: “This is my bfother Dick.

_ Dick. this is Robert Conrad, sean going West with

 
  

|. Conrad nee Arlington were invited up to F rank’s
i rooms.

~ “When do you expect to start, Frank?” ated Dick.

“To-morrow. , bmust get away\as soon ag possible.
Things are’ serious at the ‘Queen Mystery. There’s
no doubt about that. Saunders, who organized a
force of armed men to quell th strikers, has failed or
betrayed. me. I can’t think if possible he would be-
tray me, for he was a man I trusted implicitly’ Never-’
‘theless, his strike-breakers | have dispersed, and a few
m, it is said, are now “a et sacs Pe don’t

   

  

  

TIP TOP WEEKLY.

“As long as he is free to scheme and plot he’ll try |

) “killed.
smelter is in danger of destruction.

Don’t let up on him, Mr. Merthnett J

“You can’t,

/

They were not compelled to wait more than five

“The bulldog hasn’t yet recovered fromthe joy of —

know what is going on. I can simply imagine. They
may have pulled the pumps from the shafts. The
office was blown up some time ago, and two men
The stamp-mills are out of commission. The
So you see, Dick,
I’ve got to get on the ground myself and do some-
thing.”

“T should say so!”
do?”

“Haven't decided yet. I’ll have to make my. plans
when I find out how things stand. At any rate; there’s
liable to be hot work ahead of me.” 3

“Hot work—hot work, Frank? And you're going
it-alone ?”’ ~ |

 

 

cried Dick. ‘What will you

 

 

“No, not alone. Conrad is with me.” . ry. i
“Why can’t I go?” a. . ih ‘|
“Your” | be i

“Yes, I, Frank. Take me.” sistas [wae
“But college . es

“T starid all right in my classes. I'll make up for
it by studying doubly hard when I’m back.’ Frank, I
If you refuse to take me along——’

“It'll be dangerous business, Dick.”’

“And that’s the very reason why I must be with
you.” é

Merry shook his head.

“No, no,” he muttered.

But Dick persisted, and he was eloquent in his ap-
peals.

“Frank,” he said,

 
     
 

must go!

      
     
       
     
     
    

“my interests are €oncerned, as
well as yours. I can’t let you fight this thing through
alone. We should stand together. I'll be wretched
unless you agree to take me. Imagine how I'll feel
at college, knowing that you’re out there fighting for »
your tights and mine! Frank, I’m going.”

    
       
 

 

    
     
     
 

“Well, you certainly have the persistende and de-—
termination of a Merriwell. I'll ore it, Dick—
I'll consider it.” \y

Instantly Dick beamed, for he chew! that this was —
practically an agreement that he might/accompany, Bt
brother. “9

“Hold on!” tied Chet. “By Jove, I’m getting a 7
little warm myself! \ I want to be in this thing. Why
don’t you take me, Mr. Merriwell? gs been with “th
you in the West. I’ve been at the mines.’ sai

“Your parents might object.” Ly en

, “T’ll wire them at once. They won't object. Why, —
don't they ‘know all about, how you took care of me_
the last time we, were together out there? Oh, no, i
they. won't object, Frank. wif you - the word, es
know they'll let me go.”

    
     
       
   
      
          
     
         
     
       
      
fi iUe

said Frank. “Tell them the
I’ll write the message
Arlington, you

ore “Well, wire them,”
‘truth in regard to the situation.
myself.. If they say you ‘may go,
shall.”

“*Rah! ’rah! ’rah!”’
for the Queen Mystery!
bunch arrives there!”

shouted Chester. “All aboard
There'll be doings when this

 

CHAPTER IV.

A FELLOW TRAVELER,

 

 

Nevis was a junction on the main line. From
Nevis to Caruzo, a distance of a hundred and seven
| miles, ran the finished section of a new railroad that
Ue _ was’ intended to tap the rich and undeveloped country
: to the westward. From Caruzo to Mystery Valley,
where the Queen Mystery Mine was located, was a dis-
tance of thirty-eight miles.

/} as surveyed would follow a course of easy construc-
ae tion to the northward of the mountains at the base of
the foot-hills. When this road should be built it would
_ become necessary for the construction of no more than
| three or four miles of spur-track in order to run into

Mystery Valley and directly to the mine. The boom-
ers of Pablo-Mystery Consolidated had asserted that

there would be railroad connections at the mine by the
: last of the first month of the new year. As usual
i _ with such statements, the approach of the time named

found the work far from completed, with every indi-
cation that several months more might be required,
a as the construction seemed brought to a halt in the
_ vicinity of Caruzo, and there were whispered stories of

_ financial difficulty in connection with the new road.
_ \ But things were booming at Caruzo. Originally
merely a railroad town, at the head of construction,
the place stiddenly assumed new importance by the
discovery of gold in the surrounding hills. Tales of
rich strikes.came forth, swift-winged, from that re-
gion, and quickly sent a stream of adventurers pouring
in there. ;

The town had many natural advantages. Set in a
fertile valley, cupped by the surrounding hills, beyond
* which lay barren ‘wastes, Caruzo was plentifully sup-.
: plied with water the whole year round, for here an
- underground river seemed to rise from the earth -in
_ the form of many boiling springs, which made a small
lake scarcely bigger ‘than. a duck-pond. From this
head a stream wound forth beyond the limits of the

 

 
  
  

the desert. i

 

_small, though satisfactory, station was built.

‘The grade of the road

-the very Pullman car in which they had been riding,

cordial smile. |

bit tired of hanging on by his teeth henkath a moving

hills, and finally sank beneath the dry, thirsty sands of —

i Caruzo had water, and water was the great thing

   

      
  
  
   
 
   
  
 
 
 
   
  
   
 
 
 
 
 
   
   
 
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
   
   

WEEKLY. ° vA

in that country, for without it no living thing could
exist. Add to this the fact that there was gold in
the near-by hills, and you have the explanation of
the sudden rush of human beings, who quickly built
a mushroom town of slab shanties and tents. The
hills were timbered, and a steam sawmill shrieked ex-
ultantly as it tore the trees into material which was
quickly turned into houses and stores and all sorts of |
buildings, causing the sound of hammer and saw to
ring through the valley all day long, and often even
unto midnight. The railroad company seemed to be-
lieve that the town would be a permanent one, for
car-loads of brick and cement were shipped in, ahd a
A mi-
ning company, having discoyered a rich quartz vein,
put up another brick building in Caruzo, and the place,
to the eyes of its inhabitants, at least, began to assume

“metropolitan” air. Not a few of its enthusiastic
people predicted that in time—and that a limited time,_
too—Caruzo would bea huge, booming city.

Frank Merriwell’s party arrived in Nevis at 9:43
A. M. . They were among the first to step down from
the train, their luggage in hand.

A comfortable night in the sleeper and a well- seb:
ished breakfast had put them all in good spirits. -

“Thus far without incident or accident, boys,”
Merry. , “We're getting along.” py
“And there’s our train waiting on the track yonder,”
cried Dick. ‘That must be the train for Caruzo.”

Then, to the surprise of the quartet, from beneath —

said,

a soiled, begrimed, tattered man bobbed forth and
stepped upon the platform, subbing the dust from his.
red eyes with dirty ie and giving Frank a

;

      
          
   

“Morning, sir,’ said this hobo, for it was ae .
at a glance that the man was a tramp. “Lovely morn-_
ing, isn’t it? In this salubrious clime one expects to.
have his ears tickled by the caroling of blithe songsters
at this hour. By the beard of Socrates, my limbs are — a
a trifle. eramped and weary. You see, orte gets ‘a

    
     
  

   
       
   
    

railroad-car through the solemn hours. of the night.
It was a bit chilly, too, stranger. You don’t happen’
to have acts warming and invigorating on your
hip, do you? I always take a little snifter, or two,
or three, or more, before breakfast ; and-I haven't had
the opportunity to. tranquilize and satiate the inne
man as yet.” — Sih
) “Where did you. come from, man! a Sened ae
in surprise, Sa ee erates tes

      
         
      
  

  
     

   

. P
45 ee ere ENCE ee
    

ASP TOP

es /

“Me? Oh, I’m just from the cold and frosty and
unfriendly East. I’m on my way to the glorious and
salubrious clime of California. You see, I’m traveling
first-class. Picked out a Pullman last night, and came
right along with you. But I fear I’ll have to stop
here, to get breakfast, and that will make it
necessary for me to take the next through train. |
think I’ll wite the president of the road to send me
age a special car. You see, I was the only. passenger
who really had @¢ lower berth on that car. Lots of
other fellows thought they were in a lower berth, but
As the lower berth is invariably

in order

 

mine was the lowest.
chosen by the man of means and good judgment, you
must see I’m a natural-botn aristocrat. Just now I’m
a bit unfortunate. Left my purse, by accident, at the
last hotel where I dined, and discovered, later on, that
I had dropped my*check-book. Such little things do
not phase me, however. Instead of wiring the hotel
for my purse, I decided to leave it and its contents as
-a tip for the obliging waiter who served me.’

“But you don’t mean to say that you rode all night
ihineath that cat?” |
‘Don’t 1? If you say so, I don’t.» I never + dispute
a gentleman, and in you I perceive the real thing.
Nevertheless, methinks I was some hundreds of miles
away when the golden sun sank to slumber last eve.’
“It’s incredible,” “Some day,
man, you'll lose your hold, and——

muttered Merry.

_ “Te’ll all be over so quick that I'll never know what
happened,” said the hobo. ‘No sickness, no pain, no
lingering decline and weary waiting for the end, no-
doctor’s bills,to pay, no unpleasant events whatever.
When a man goes, when his time comes, he should
go like the snuffing out of a candle. That’s the way
I hope and expect to go. Meantime, like the little
Po ewes, I fly from clime to clime with the changing
seasons.’ Did you say you had a soothing flask upon
your hip? In you I sees generosity personified. |
feel sure you will not refuse me a morning bracer.”

“T do not carry a flask,” said Frank.

“Indeed! Is it possible, in these enlightened. times,
0, sat a civilized being can neglect to provide himself
with such a positive necessity while traveling? Your
carelessness, my friend, is amazing. What do you do
_ when you want a drink and can’t gét toa saloon >’
_“T drink water.” m j
i “Water? Water ?” rotreueall the fies touch-
- ing his forehead with the tip of a ‘grimy finger, while
his scrubby-bearded face wore a look of perplexity.
“Where have Isheard that word? | It awakes an echo
in my memiory. It seems to" me phat, in: ‘sont past

wh eee

 
 

a ee
z : ls

WEEKLY.

time, now far distant, Ihave tried water as a beverage.
Evidently it did not agree with me, and Billy Bolivar —
never drinks anything that doesn’t cheer and soothe
and invigorate.” |
“Billy Bolivar!” cried Dick. “I knew you the mo-
ment you crawled out from Desa pat car, but I
could hardly believe

 

e my eyes.’

‘What, ho!” cried the tramp, turning quickly and

“Zounds! Gadzooks! ’*Sdeath!
Gracious goodness and also goodness gracious! If it
isn’t my old college friend, my old Yale chum, I'll eat
my hat! Richard Merriwell, give me the’ fraternal
clasp of your dainty hand. No, stay; I might soil
those immaculate gloves. If it were not for my some-
what untidy and unpresentable condition, I would clasp
you to my throbbing bosom.” |

“Dick, do you know this man?” asked Frank.

“Know dim?” cried Chester Arlington. “I should
say we do!” 7

Billy Bolivar lifted his open palm and shaded his
eyes as he stared at Chet.

“And you, too!’ he murmured, with plainly in-
creasing surprise. “You, the thoughtless, unfeeling
youth who would have turned me over to the New
Haven poltce the night you found me making my bed |
in the gutter. You, who were marked for \disgrace 4
by a nefarious gang of plotters. I heard their scheme, _
‘and I might have balked them by telling you every-
thing, but, in my resentment at your deportment to- +
ward me, I kept my lips sealed. Not until they had
trapped you, and I learned from. Richard the Noble
that you were his friend, did I speak. Then I told
the truth, and saved your reputation.”

staring at the youth.

bes

“For which I thank you; for which I tried to re-
ward you,’ said Chester.

“Reward me?” laughed the hobo. “Why, at that: —
time I had a roll.. I’d picked up a little of the good
green stuff, and had it, in my jeans. I disdained to
accept a reward under such circumstances, but: now, —
young sir—now conditions are somewhat altered. If
you will lead me gently to a hospitable bar, and pur-
chase the liquid refresl eee for which I yearn, I'll
be forever indebted to you.” (5

Robert Conrad, the fourth one of Frank’s party, had
taken no part in the conversation, although he had |,
listened with an expression of: amusement.on his face.

 

he said, thrusting his hand 1

“Here, man,” ie: his
ees fix you <all right

' pocket, “here are two bits.
for a drink.”

“Wait,” ‘iieipenad Chester. aie
mie. If Frank doesn’ t object—

“It’s up to

 

  
 

f.

 

     

   

 
   
   
   
   
  
   
  
  
    
    
   
   
   
  
   
  
  
   
    
   
   
    
 
   
  
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
    
      
    
          

  
 

na,

 

v

 

»

 

_ round and staring at Frank.

of my alma mater,

TAD ARE.

“In the case of this unfortunate,” said Merry, “
appears too late to do any good by objecting.”

‘In another moment Chester thrust a five-dollar bill
into, the hand of old Billy Bolivar.

“That will buy more than one drink,” he said.

The tramp kissed the money qwith a flourish and
beamed on Chet.
“Thus it is,” he said in his husky voice, “that bread

ast upon the waters returneth after many days. I
will restrain my impetuous desire to lubricate long

enough to inquire by what fortunate chance I find so
many friends here in this Southwestern land. Whither
are you bound?”

“We're going by rail to Caruzo,”

said, Dick. “My

‘prothnet—— ”

cried Bolivar, jerking himself
“Oh, but I’m dense, in-
deed, that I did not suspect it before! And this—
this is the noblest of all noble Elis! This is the great
Frank Merriwell, whose name hath gone forth even
unto the ends of the earth. Comrade, noble product
I salute you. Oh,
man. I matrigulated beneath the shelter of Old Eli’s
cloak. Would you believe it to look at me now?
It is even so, although you may doubt. William Boli-
var received his sheepskin, and to-day, like you, he is
a B. A. Alas, how have the mighty fallen! In me
you behold a horrible example, an eloquent temperance
oration. In my youth I loved wine, women, and song.
All that is left to me now is wine—usually that is
beer. I’m glad that fortune cast me across your path
at the psychological moment ; but I can dally no longer,
for within me the conqueror calls aloud for ardent, for
spirits fermenti, for drink. I am his’ slave, and I
obey. With all haste I shall seek a place where I can
exchange this good’ money for bad whisky. Perhaps
we. may meet again. Who knows? If not, think
kindly of old Billy Bolivar, but shed no tears above
his bier. He has shed many a tear into his beer. He

“Vour brother?”

; \ has cursed the day he first tasted _the stuff. But-why
Cease this repining, for be- |

— lament ? It’s too late.
hind the clouds the sun’s still shining. Ta! ta!’”
_ Already Bolivar had located the sign of a saloon,

an and he made for the building with quickened steps.

CHAPTER V. ;
A FREAK OF FORTUNE.

Tt was bert thirty minutes after the departure

from Nevis Junction of the through express before
; the train’ for Caruzo pulled out.

f

 

I am a Yale

Almost the last per- .

   

WEEKLY, | 9
.

son to board that train was William Bolivar. The

hobo’s steps were unsteady, but there. was a look of

satisfaction on his face which betokened an agreeable

state of mind. * a

The conductor regarded him suspiciously as he
seized the, railing and swung upon the steps.

“Got your ticket?’ was the sharp question. .

“Ticket 2” chuckled Bolivar. “Nay, nay, your no-
bility, I have it not.” ; gees

“Then get off—get off!” cried the conductor, seiz-
ing:his arm and preparing to give him a ‘shove ere the
train got to moving too swiftly. \

“Hold, impetuous one,’”’.urged Bolivar, gripping the
iron railing fast with one hand, while he thrust the
other hand into his pocket and drew it forth filled to
overflowing with gold and silver. “It is not for you
to be thus rude with one who can pay his way lavishly.
Ah, there goes a double eagle bounding merrily from |
the’ steps and skipping across the platform. Never
mind. Some poor deyil who needs it may find it.”

With an expression of surprise, the conductor re-
leased his hold upon Bolivar. ,

“By: your looks,” he said, “I didn’t suppose you
had two bits in your clothes.”

“Which should teach you, the wise, sir, that you
cannot always judge by appearances,” returned Bolivar
good-naturedly. “When. I hit this town from which
we are now departing I was broke, busted, hadn’t a
coin of any kind on my person. But the goddess of
fortune smiled on me in my hour of extremity, and
I’m now carrying four drinks, five ham, sandwiches, ©
and two chicken sandwiches under my belt, while my
pockets jingle musically with coin of the realm.”

“Did you steal it?”

Bolivar regarded the conductor with ‘mingled in-
dignation and disdain. — +4

“No matter to what depths I may have sunk,” he
said, “never, yet ha¥e f stolen a nickel.
money legitimately, and your foul suspicions I fling
off with unspeakable scorn. Permit me to pass. I.
‘would enjoy the unusual sensation of seating myself
comfortably in a passenger-car. When you, come: |
around to take tickets I'll pay my way, and that s good —
enough for you.” %

With which, Bolivar, ipcihg tile 5 himself with an ef- ss

fort, entered the:car.| Grasping a seat, the tramp
looked the passengers over, and a smile of sd4tisfaction _

came to his face as he discovered Merriwell’s party. hig
With some difficulty a made his way down the aisle

ang paused. Again he produced a handful of money. a
“Always pay my debts,” he said. ae a eee

. 7,
\ f
, ;

   
  
  
   
  
  

  
  
  
 
  
  
   
 
 
 
  
 
   
   

I obtained this

    
   
  

     
     

  
  

~

_ makes no difference to me.

Tl find myself with the wealth of Midas.
you will not mind my present personal appearance. I
did not. have_ time to look after my toilet, . I did not.
even have time: to get my whiskers broken’ off; but
os when we have reached the end of our journey I shall
_ hie myself to the patlor of a'tonsorial artist.
take a bath, although I haven't indulged in such a
luxury in  tlfese fray moons, |

of mine, and I cari’t seem to get over it. Here, young
man, is a five-dollar gold piece,;in return for the V
that you loaned me a while ago, and here is another
five, for interest.’’
“What t
Chester,

99

the dickens have you been doing?” cried

accepting one five-dollar gold piece, but re-

fusing to take the other, “Where did you get that
money ?”

“Didst see me hie myself toward. the place where
they dispense liquid refreshments ?”

OY eSe"

“In that resort I found a roulette layout, and went
against it,after bracing myself with a couple of drinks.
You see the result. I hit the bank good. and hard the
first crack out of the box. Thirty-five to ore, and
I let it lay to repeat. She repeated. Then I cashed.
That’s the whole story. They didfft like to see me
earry it off. They sought to lure me into lingering.
They even offered me drinks without money and with-
out price, but William Bolivar explained that urgent
business made it necessary for him to catch this train,
and I got away with their mazuma.”

“Well, you were lucky!” cried Chet.

“Truer word was never spoken,”
“Do you know, I’ve got a hunch.

agreed Bolivar.
I have a conviction

that there’s something lucky about meeting a Merri-

well.- On, the first occasion when I had the fortune
to meet young Richard, I was lifted from the gutter by
him and placed in a bed; and that very night, ere

morning crept over the housetops of New Haven,

having risen with a desire to quench my thirst and

_, gone ee upon the streets, I picked up a wad of real
money.”

“Which. was ddopped by those taacals who put up
that job on me and went oe me on the street,”
said. Chester. hy)

“And therefore,” grinned Bolivar, “I had no com-

-punctions about retaining possession of it.”

“But why did you take this train?” asked Frank.

“Where do you think you're going?” a

Anywhere, anywhere, noblest Eli of them all. It
I have concluded to stick
by you. If I can keep it up long” enough, | fancy that

I beg that

Till even

 

pho,

TIP. TOP WEEKLY

‘ate.

Next I shall. aac

 

I assure you that the
metamorphosis will give you a sensation of surprise,
for I expect to look almost human after
through the ordeal. At present I realize that I am
not presentable to travel in your company, and there-
fore I will withdraw to the rear end of this car,
myself.”

a clothier and haberdasher.

passing

commune with

Saying which, Bolivar passed on and took a seat, ap-

parently as happy and contented as he could possibly |

be.
“What do you think of my friend, Frank?’! asked

Dick.
“Somehow,”

said Merry, “I feel that there may yet

be the making of a man in William Bolivar.”

CHAPTER VI.

THE GERM OF MANHOOD,

Among the passengers on the car was a troupe of
vaudeville performers, bound for Caruzo, where they
were to fill an engagement.. One was a little girl of
nine or ten, whose thin face was very attractive and

“sweet, and who had caught Frank’s attention through

the fact that a man who seemed to be her father had
twice spoken to her in a harsh, snarling way, causing
her to cower and shrink and give him glances of fear.
This man had been drinking. He sat, in company
with the child, directly in front of Frank and Dick.
Arlington and Conrad were in the double seat across
the aisle. |

By the ‘conversation of the theatrical people, Merry —
learned that the father and child were known on the
stage as The Fays, and the little girl was called Meta
Fay.

“Father,” said the child timidly, “I’m hungry.”

“No, you’re not!” growled the man.

“Traly I am. You said you were going to get
sandwiches at-Nevis. You left me in the station, but
you came back without the sandwiches.”

“We'll get a feed when we arrive at Caruzo,”
the man.
You're always hungry, always hungry.”

“Why didn’t you bring her a sandwich, Harry?”

‘demanded the sotfbrette of the party, turning on him,”
I oeror you mais:

“What's the matter with -your
your money for drink.”

At this old Bill Bolivar suddenly sat up straight and.

looked interested.
“It’s the way they do it,” he muttered to hirhadit:’

rae oy buy drink and starve their own flesh and blood. x

and

 

fr

said
“T never saw such a little git as you.

 
 

   
 
 

 
 

    
   
 
  

    
 

 
 
  
   
   
  
   
  
    
   
   
 
    
  
  
   
 
   
  
   
     
   
   
  
  
  
  
  
   
   
 

 

 

Wied

 
   
       
     
 

  

   

 

  
ae

 

 

of 4
hey i.

of
and
igh
had
ing
Bar
any
ick.

“OSS

 

try. iy
the
[eta ‘Sie

  
  
   
    

 

  

I know how it is. I’ve gone hungry hundreds of
times, and spent the dimes I’ve begged for booze.”
“You're always
Can’t you

“Aw, g’wan, Kit!’ growled Fay.
butting in. What’s the matter with ye?
let the kid alone?” ’

The soubrette rose, her eyes flashing. She had
peroxid hair, and her gaudy clothes were pinned and
hitched upon her in a somewhat slovenly manner, but
there was honest indignation in the words flung at the
man. x

“You’re a brute, Harry Fay!”
don’t treat the kid right. You know it.’ Why didn’t
you tell me you was going to-buy booze? I'd brought
her something to eat. Here, Meta, I have a box of

she cried. “You

‘chocolates. You can have them.”

“No, she can’t,” said Fay, pushing the proffered
box qside. “They always make her sick, see. I ain’t
a-goin’ to have her sick on my hands to-night. We've

got to do a performance in Caruzo this very night.
Keep that truck away from Meta.”

“What do you think of that man, Frank?’ mur-
mured Dick.

Frank’s only answer was the hardening of his square
jaw., Already he was burning with indignation.

A few seats in advance sat a thin, consumptive-

looking young man, who coughed hollowly at inter-

vals. This fellow had taken an interest in the con-
versation, and now he opened his traveling-bag and
brought forth a sandwich and a banana. With these
he rose and approached the seat, offering them to the
little girl. ?

; ahere,” he said, smothering a cough. “T happened
to have something to eat with me, but I sha’n’t want it
myself. Take it.’’

“What do you take us for?” demanded Fay fiercely,
as he glared at the young man.
We're no beggars! Get away, ye lunger! I wouldn’t
let her eat that stuff, anyhow.”

The thier man shrugged his shoulders and fieai-
tated.

“But she’s hungry, sir,” he said.

“No, she ain’t. She’s faking. Get out.”

“Wait a minute,” interposed Frank “I think this
man will change his mind.”

Fay twisted round and half-rose, phate ‘at Mer-,
-Tiwell.

“What’s that ‘i
asked you to dip i in?

“Sit down,” said Frafik commandingly, looking the
fellow straight in the eyes. “Sit down. You ought

He. rasped. “Who are you? Who

   

TIP ‘TOP

“Go on with yer!

     

WEEKLY. 12

to be ashamed ae yourself, and you would be if you
were half a man.’

“Now, by blazes! I «won't take that off anybody!’
shouted Fay, as he made a grab at Frank’s shoulder.
“T’ll punch your face!”

But his wrist was caught with a clutch of steel and
given a sudden twist that brought a squawk of pain
from his lips, and nearly wrenched\ him to his knees.

Frank rose, speaking with surprising calmness.

“Sit down!’ he said. “You won’t hit any one, and
you'll let the child have that sandwich and banana.”

“Qw-wow!” howled Fay. ee are yer trying
to do? You'll break my arm.’ |

“Not quite,” said Merry, “though I’m half- saphed
to. That’s right, sir, ‘now keep your seat. Take the
food, Meta—take it and eat it.”

“Don’t you do, it!’ snarled ‘the child’s father.
“Don’t you dare do it!’

“Now, that’s enough from you,” said Frank. “If
you make further effort te.bully her or frighten her,
ll turn you wrong side out. Not a word, not a look!
Sit still where you are.”

Then he nodded to the young man.

“She'll take it,” he said,

Meta was frightened, but her hunger conquered
her fear, and she eagerly accepted the sandwich and
the banana, murmuring her thanks.

“I’m much obliged to you, sir,” said the young man,
coughing behind his hand and bowing to Frank. “My
name is Cole—Hayden Cole. And I’m out here for
my health.”

“My name is Merriwell,” said Frank.

<t en you’ re bound for Caruzo? Fi

“Yes, sir.’ ,

485 am I. Instead of going to Tucson, or some —
place where J knew there’d be a lot of people in the
same condition as myself, I decided to strike out for
a small town where I could live outdoors. as much as

I chose. I presume business is calling you to Ca-
ruzo?” ‘
Yes?” acknowledged ‘Merry, “it is business that

takes me there.” ‘
“We may ae more of each other.”
“Possibly so.” |
Frank resumed his seat. |
After a time he made a discovery that once more
aroused his ‘indignation. Fay had taken half the
sandwich from the child, and was slyly eating it.
“Such a man,” said Frank, “has no right ‘to Oro 3
up a child. He’ll ruin her life.”
If the man heard these words, he made no sign.

       
      
 
     
     
       
     
     
  

      
 

 
  
    
  
  
   
   
  
  
 
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
 

 

I2 Se POP

Some time later Fay produced a bottle from his
pocket and uncorked it, preparatory, to taking a drink.

It seemed that old Bill Bolivar must have smelled
the liquor, for in a surprising manner he appeared in
the aisle at the man’s elbow,

‘*Scuse me,” he said, reaching forward and taking
the bottle
realize his-intention. “Don’t you know that stuff is
bad for you? Don’t you know that it has worked
the destruction of many a better man than you are,

Look at me, for instance.”’

from Fay’s hand before the latter could

or ever were?

“Why, confound “hand that
bottle back! What do you mean by snatching it from
my hand, you old bummer ?”

“Softly, softly, sir,”
“Be calm, be calm. I would read you a little temper-
ance lecture. I would open your eyes to the dreadful
finish that lies in store for you. Take a look at me if
you wish to see the work of liquor.”

you,” snarled Fay,

said Billy, waving. his hand,

“Give me that bottle! Get out of here, you dirty

bum!” :

said: Bolivar, “TI would
In recent years I have

“At one time in my life,”
have resentéd such words.

heard that contemptuous title applied to me so often
that really it sounds like a compliment.

When ‘I saw
you ‘produce this bottle I was seized by a desire to
assuage my own thirst, but as long as you are so un-
hospitable, as long as you seem inclined to refuse me
the privilege, PiU take it!’

Saying which, Bolivar tipped the beeen of the
bottle toward the roof of the car, with the nozle
applied to his lips,

Fay rose, with the intention of striking the man,
but once more Frank’s hand fastened on him. This
time Merry’s fingers had him by the neck, and threw

him back upon the seat.

“You seem determined to have trouble,” said Frank.
“You'd better refrain, my friend.”

Gurgle, gurgle! sounded the liquor as it coursed

- down William Bolivar’s throat.

“But he’s drinking my whisky!” cried Fay. furi-
ously. “Are you going to 'let him do that? Stop!

‘You’ ve had enough, Give it back!”

-Gurgle, gurgle!
William Bolivar’s eyes were closed, and a serene,

expression marked his face. Some of the passengers

began to laugh, for the contents of the bottle were
rapidly: disappearing, and the hummer showed no signs
of stopping.
Mage mad down his throat did Bolivar yr the bottle.

Indeed, not until the last drop ‘had

 

sight.

     

WEEKLY.

Even then he looked at it with an expression of dis-
appointment and sad surprise, huskily murmuring:

“Is that all? Why, I thought there was a whole
drink in-it. I beg your pardon, sir.
careless gf me to take it all. You asked for your
bottle back. Here it is. Perhaps, after all, it’s just
as well for you that it’s empty. The stuff can do you
nothing but harm, and for the sake of your little girl
you should let it alone. It can’t hurt me. I’m past
that.”

Some of the passengers
Not so with Frank Merriwell. Strange as it may
seem, Merry was more than ever convinced that there
might still be a little manhood left in the old bummer,
and inwardly resolved, if fortune gave/him the oppor-
tunity, to make an attempt to awaken that manhood.

It was very

CHAPTER VIL.

THE MAJOR’S BASKET.

Among the passengers who boarded the train at

Nevis Junction was a very small man, with a very

large nose and a profuse amount of fiery-red Burn-—

side whiskers, slightly touched with gray.: This man
moved briskly and carried a large basket on his arm.
His clothes were somewhat rusty, and he wore a long-
tailed, double-breasted coat, buttoned tightly across his

chest, while in the place of a collar an old-fashioned »

stock was wrapped about his neck. The hat upon his
head had a military look, and the little man bore him-
self, despite his burden, with a soldierly air.

Not until William Bolivar drank the last drop from
the bottle of the brutal theatrical man did the pas-

senger with the basket make a remark. During the
time that the bottle was glued to Bolivar’s lips and the

liquor gurgled down the bummer’s throat, he of the
bright Burnsides glared with an air of unspeakable.
regret at the tramp. As Bolivar started to return to

his seat the little man rose and made a remark.

“A terrible waste of good whisky, suh—a terrible -

waste!” he snorted, still glaring at Bolivar.
“T quite agree with you, major,’

hoarsely. “You're eminently correct.
ing it into a rat-hole. Don’t seem to have any Pe,
aect;”

“Instead of drinking the whole of it,’ snapped the
little man, “why didn’t ae pass it round ?”’

“*Scuse me, major,’’ said old Bill¥, with a limp fp
of his left, hand. “Awful oversight.
J =) know re were on the car,”

shouted with merriment.

 

 

   

 

 
   
   

 

 

’ grinned the hobo ‘ Hy |
Just like turn-

Da pover- fs

      
   
       
   
     
           
       
         
       
       
     
     
     
 
 

         
“I don’t remember you. How do you happen to
know me? Why do you address me as major? How
do you know I have the right to such a title, suh?”
| “Knew it the minute I put my eyes on you, maj’.
Why, you’ve got it painted all over you. You're a
natural born commander. You're a military genius.
Had you lived in proper times of bleeding war, and
had you obtained the opportunity your—your magnifi-
cent brain qualifies you to—to fill, you’d made Napo-
You would have had
old Wellington nailed to ‘the wall.

 

leon look like a back number.
Alexander or
Cesar would have been mud-horses, compared with
A _ydu. That eye, maj’—that eye speaks of military
; i ‘ hg ardor and unquenchable thirst—I mean courage. That
brow—that massive brow tells of genius far beyond
the scope of eloquence to describe., That nose—that
re _ glorious, roaming nose, gorgeous to the very tip, be-
speaks ambition, and—and—and lots of pts er things.

Major, you’re all right from your head up.”

 

The little man seemed quite overcome by such a
J. _ profusion of compliments, for he was now aware that
the eyes of almost every passenger in the car were
fastened upon him. Still, he was one who courted
observation, and, expanding his chest until it seemed
| that the buttons would fly from his straining coat, he
4 retorted :

“You're quite right in thinking I have military
‘qualifications. Unfortunate circumstances, the force
of events over which I had no control, prevented me
from recording my name upon the annals of history
and sending it resounding like thunder down the cor-
~ .. ridors of,time.’?

“Major,” hiccoughed: Bolivar,
“metaphor are simply staggering.”

 

e

 

“your simile and

“For all of your greed in emptying that bottle,”
said the small man, “I must say that I have some ad-
 tmiration for your capacity.”

“Thanks, maj’—thanks, old boy.”

“From some oversight, I neglected to brite my
a "Gack with me on the trip to Nevis, and, therefore, I
_ was-disappointed when you failed to ask me if I would
assist you: in disposing of the contents of that, bottle
just now.’ ; is

“As long as I live, maj’,’’ wheezed Bolivar, swaying
with the motions of the train and clinging tightly to
a _ the back of a seat, “I shall continue to re¥ret my over-
fay: in failing to recognize in you a thirsty fellow
. traveler. But it seems to me, eveh though you had >
forgotten your flask, you might have purchased a
eee: in Nevis, and slipped it into your beac! for con-

venient conveyance.”

  

   

TIP TOP WEEKLY.

Meee 2 roe tis:

       
  
  
   
  
  
   
   
     
   
  
   
  
  
   
  
   
    
  
 

53

“No room in the basket. It’s full.”
“Happy basket,’’ smiled Bolivar. “I know how it
to be full myself. What have you in it, maj’?”
“Eggs.” :
“Eggs?” a
“Yes; ‘suh;”’ i:
“Eggs, maj’?
of eggs?”
“Well, you see, suh, we have no way of obtaining
eggs in Caruzo. The other evening I became engaged
in a vigorous argument with Colonel Crowther, of
Kentucky. We were discussing the merits of various
exhilarating libations.” |

What are you doing. with a basket

“Delightful vocabulary, major—delightful,” mur-
mured Bolivar. ‘Exhilarating libations is good. Go
on.” By cn

«Bhe colonel insisted, suh, that a mint-julep was the
finest thing that ever tickled a man’s palate, I insisted —
that a good old-fashioned egg-nog was in eyery way
superior to the mint-julep.” :

“No comparison between them,” interjected Bolivar,

“Would you believe it, suh,” continued the major, — i
“on my word, suh, Colonel Crowther had never tasted —
egg-nog in his life.”

Bolivar seemed on the point of ee

“In—incredulous!” he gasped.

: “Fact, suh—fact. I swore I would mix for him
an egg-nog that would combine the three qualities of
meat, drink, and clothing. — But when I sought to pro-
cure the materials I found that Caruzo, metropolitan,
city though it’s bound to be, was tnable to furnish
them. We had the whisky and we had the milk, for iy
there were four goats and one cow in Caruzo, but eggs _
—alas, we had no eggs. I had given my pledge, and
therefore I resolved to procure eggs at any trouble or
expense, That, suh, is why I traveled all the way to.
Nevis to purchase this basket of hen-fruit. On my
return to Caruzo I'll have every man of cultivated
taste in the whole town raving over the Beer of |
egg-nog.”’ , tsa
_ “T presume, maj’,” said Bolivar, “that you have
obtained the very freshest eggs that could be secured
in Nevis.”

 

 
  

          
     
       
     
    
   
   

 
 

9

   
  

   
  
 
 

“Just so, suh—just so.
Not a chicken in the lot.”
“Peep! peep! peep!” came a ‘peulige sound that
caused the passengers to. start and stare and a
surprise.
““What—what. the dickens

They are all guarantee!

        
   
 

 
    
     
 
   
 

is that ”

    
 

“Peep! ‘peep! peep!"
4

 

that basket was plumb full of eggs.

this is prophetic.

pacify my sometimes ravenous appetite, it is an egg,
y om ,

99

“Sounds like a chicken, maj’,” said Bolivar, “and
on my word, I believe it’s in your basket. One of
your eggs—your good fresh eggs—must have brought
forth an immature broiler.”

“It can’t be!” snorted the man with the fiery Burn-
sides. |

“Peep! peep! peep!”

“Tt must be,”’ insisted Bolivar. “Look, maj’. I'll
wager something you'll find a cute little chicken in the
basket.”’

The major seized the basket and ‘lifted it from the
floor, depositing it on the seat. The interested pas-
sengers stared, and many of them rose in order to get
a look at the basket when it should be opened.

Suddenly another amazing sound issued from that

basket.

“Cut-cut-cut-ca-daw-cut ! cut-cut-cut-ca-daw- dial cut-

ie

cut-cut-ca-daw-cut !
“Wow! wow!” cried Bolivar. “Your chicken is
growing some, maj’. It certainly is a hen we hear
chanting that pean of joy.” |
“A hen?” shouted the little man excitedly. . “Why,
How can there
be a hen in it? It’s impossible!” | __

“Cock-a-doodle-do! cock-a-doodle-do!”

The hoarse, although.somewhat smothered, crow-
ing of a rooster seemed to issue from the basket.

The. major’s eyes were literally popping from his
head. The passengers were laughing, and the whole
car was agog with curiosity.

Literally quivering with excitement, the major
finally succeeded in unfastening the cover of the basket
and lifting it. As he had stated, that basket was full
to the brim with hen’s S eggs.

cackling hen, no crowing rooster was there. . The ma-

jor clutched at his heart and seemed to grow pale.

“Have I—have I got ‘em?’ he murmured cho-
kingly. “But I was not the only person who heard
the sounds. You heard them, suh?”’

“Indeed, I did,” agreed Bolivar. . “I was confident
that you had made a mistake and bought poultry in-
stead of eggs, but there are the eggs. Maj’, I think
| I fear me much that a tapping upon
the shell of any one of those luscious- -looking biddy
_ productions will release a chicken.”

“No, suh! no, suh! I paid a special price to get
fresh eggs.”

“And I am excruciatingly fond of fresh eggs,” said
Bolivar. “If there’ is anything that will /soothe and

 

RA ed

AP TOP

No peeping chicken, no /

WEEKLY.

two eggs, three eggs, half. a dozen.eggs, often a dozen
Major, [’ll buy the whole
lot, and take my chances on the chickens.”

“No, objected the little “man.
“T wouldn't sell them all at any price.”

eggs. I'll gamble with you.

indeed; no, indeed,”

“But you have more than you need. Sell me part
of them. I’m going to be distressingly ravenous when
I reach Caruzo. Sell me.a dozen eggs, that I. may
bear them with me to the hotel which I shall honor
with my patronage. I will induce the chef at that
hostelry to fry me the eggs, and I will enjoy a re-
past fit for a king. Look here, ‘major, here’s money,
lots of it. Vll give you ten dollars for a dozeti of
those eggs. That’s a pretty good price, eh?”

“Make it twenty, suh,’”’ suggested the little man.

“Twenty it is,’ said Bolivar, “providing I am per-
mitted to make my choice from the basket. Here’s a
bright golden double eagle, maj’.”

The man from Caruzo permitted Bolivar to pick
out a dozen of the eggs, for which he accepted the
twenty-dollar gold piece. Bolivar carelessly dropped
them into,the side pockets of his tattered old coat, ex-
pressed his thanks with great politeness, swayed un-
steadily into a seat, and sank down.

“T wouldn’t’give much for those eggs by’ the time
he reaches Caruzo,”’ laughed Dick Merriwell.

CHAPTER VIII.

THE TREACHERY OF DOUGLAS SAUNDERS. ,

Dick Merriwell was in the secret that had astounded :

and dazed the major and bewildered the other pas-
sengers on the car. Dick knew Frank was a skil-
ful ventriloquist, and Frank it was who had seemingly
caused those surprising sounds to issue from the ma-
jor’s basket.

The little man from Caruzo closed and fastened the
lid of his basket with,the greatest care, and resumed

_ his seat.

“Dick,” said Frank, “I think I’ll interview thatman,
He may be able to tell me something of interest.” _

Rising, Merry stepped over to the major, and stated
that he was pleased to meet a citizen of the town of
Caruzo, at the same time giving his name.

“Merriwell?” cried the little man, bobbing up.
“Merriwell? Let me see. That name is familiar.
Why, suh, is it possible that you are the man who
formerly owned the Queen Mystery Mine?’

The: same,” said Frank.
“Well, well!

¢

Indeed, indeed!” spluttered the little

  
   

    

      
     
   
   
    
    
  
 
   
  
  
  
   
  
  
  

 

      
       
   
     
   
   
     
     
     
       
 

 

    
       
     
       
       
     
   
       
     
   

 
    
     
is

 

 

 

 

Fe ders.”

di deputy. sheriff.

clever, Mr. Merriwell—he’s devilish clever.
quence stirred up all Caruzo.

REP: TOF?

man, as he seized Merry’s hand and shook it. vigor-
“I am Major Henry M. Golash, of Caruzo,
and I am pleased to meet you, suh., I presume you
are fully informed in regard to the trouble at the
Queen Mystery Mine?”

“I can’t be sure that I’m fully

ously.

informed,” con-
fessed Frank. “I’ve heard considerable about it.”
“Sit down, suh, sit.down,” invited Major Golash,
hastily removing his basket and motioning for Frank
to be seated at his side.. “I may be able to impart
information. In fact, suh, I know quite'a little about
that most unfortunate aaapt

“If you will favor me,’’ bowed Frank politely.

“I presume, suh, that you have some one to inquire
into the matter—to investigate for yourself?’ \

“That’s quite right. The strike is os on, and the
strikers have possession of the mine.’

“I was with the party, suh, organized by Douglas
Saunders to break that strike.”’

“Ah, then I’m sure you can tell me much that I
wish to know. That expedition proved to be a fail-
ure.”

“A failure, suh!” cried the major. “It would have
been a grand and glorious success only for treachery

in our own ranks—only for the basest sort of treach-

ery. on the part of the very man who employed us,
and who acted as our leader.”

“You rftean Saunders?”

“Yes, suh.”

“But I have had much dealing with Nobisas Saun-

ders, and I always regarded him as thoroughly re- -
- liable.

I don’t mind telling you, major, in case you
‘may not be aware of the fact, that it was I who au-
thorized Saunders to raise a body of armed men for
the purpose of seizing the mine and stopping ine
strike.”

“Then you were betrayed in a most dastardly man-
ner, suh. Yes, suh. That man Saunders gave you
the double cross.” A

“But I cannot understand why he should do so.”

“Money, young man—money. He was bought off.

‘He had his price, and he got it.”

“If that is true, I’m greatly diswpbipiaad in Saun-

“T assure you that it is the solemn truth ie von
iedtion Saunders took pains to be sworn in as a

He’s
His elo-
He told us how the
Queen Mystery, managed by the rich corporation that

thority to raise the men and seize the mine.

From the high sheriff he obtained au- __

         
  
   
    
  
   
   
  
   
  
  
   
    
   
   
  
  
   
 
 
  
  
  
  
  
  
   
  
   
  
   
    
   
   
  
   
    
     
 

WEEKLY. 15

had secured control of it, would be a great benefit to
this whole region. He told us that the strikers were
a set of rascals led by Pinal Pete.”

“Who is Pinal Pete?’

“Haven’t you ever heard of Pete Hyde?”

“Hyde? Seems to me I’ve heard of a bad man
by that name.” 3 a

“That’s the man. He’s a gun-fighter and a killer. |
In Caruzo Saunders made a speech in which he stated
the necessity of wiping out such a menace to the peace
of ‘the country. He said that Pinal Pete should be
hanged. He stated that by rapid work we could rush
down upon the mine and take possession of it before
the strikers realized what happening. They
would be wholly unprepared for such quick interfer-
ence from the outside. He ‘enthused us, suh. He
raised his company of armed men in short order. We
started for the mine shortly after nightfall, and ere
daybreak we were at the entrance to the valley. There
we met a surprise,

was

“As you probably know, the valley may Be entered
only by a narrow pass. That pass was guarded by
armed men, who held us up, They seemed fully in- ——
formed as to our movements. Apparently, there were ae
more than half a hundred of them behind the rocks,
which’ served as fortifications. To charge them in
the light of breaking dawn would have been suicide on
our part. i

“On realizing this, suh, we withdrew and held: a
consultation. Some were for making the attempt to ~
charge, through and take the valley, but wiser and
cooler heads counseled against it. They prevailed. —
There was talk of instituting a siege, for we com-
manded the only exit from the valley. All day long ~
we remained inactive. Many of the boys channel
beneath the restraint, for’ they. had: been told that’
we would carry the thing through with a dash and
a whirl that. would firlish it in short order, and per-
mit us all to return to Caruzo as soon as the ring-
leaders of the strike were properly lynched.’

 

“Along in the afternoon, suh, three men came out
from the valley bearing a white flag. Saunders and
Osgood, who was a sort of lieutenant, went forward
to meet those men, and they held a long consultation
When Saunders returned I saw plainly enough that
some sort of a change had come over him.” ot

. “What do you mean by that, major?” ?

“Well, suh, he was not as enthusiastic as he had
been. He addressed) the men, and told us that he had
been misinformed in regard to the strike. He stated
that, instead of being an insurrection on the part. of

 

    
  
 

  
  

   
 

 

    
  

TIP TOP

desperadoes, it was a demand by honest laborers: for
just /treatment by their employers. ‘Even Superin-
tendent Amboy, he announced, was confident that the
affair could be settled amicably. You see, suh, that
Amboy was one of the three from the mine who had
Ce talked with §
“To say that we were disgusted and disappointed
would be putting it mild, Mr. Merriwell.
more than that, suh. I myself urged that we should
insist on entering the valley-and learning if things
were as stated at the mine. This did not meet the
approval of Saunders. pew there was something
wrong when I saw both him and Osgood talking’ pri-
vately with various members of our party. That
night Saunders and nearly twenty men deserted. Of
course, Osgood was one of the deserters. They went
over to the strikers. The coming of another day
found them ready to fire upon us, their own friends,
in case we tried to charge into the valley. We were
notified to disperse, to return to Caruzo and mind
our own business.

Saunders and. Osgood.

“T was indignant, suh. I made a speech, in which
- I urged the men to follow me in an effort to take
. possession’ of the mine. But it was no use. “They
had lost their courage. They had lost heart. Our
provisions had given out. The expedition blew up,
and we returned in shameful failure to Ggruzo.

“Since then we’ve heard many conflicting stories
from the mine.
ing property. Others state that the strikers are simply
maintaining their position, and waiting to arbitrate.
It’s impossible for me to tell you, suh, what is the
truth. At intervals Pinal Pete and one-or two com-
rades come to Caruzo and receive messages from un-
known parties in the East. Why, ave’ve even heard
that the company now owning the property is some~

how interested in the, continuation of the strike. This
seems preposterous, We cannot understand it. You,
suh, are interested in that company, I believe. You

—

should know if this rumor has any/grain of truth in
it. ” " J 7:

“Major, it may be that certain ones of the com-
_ pany vad, concerned in bringing about trouble at the
mines.” |
» “But why, suh—why ?” . |
- “Tn order to manipulate the stock of the ante
on the Wall Street market.” ’
The major shook his head with a puzzled expres-
sion. )

’ “T must.confess, suh,” he said, “that I don’t binidag
‘stand such things. They’re too deep for me.”

  
 
 

 

 

We were.

Some say the strikers are destroy-

coming here.

WEEKLY.

  
  

ae

=

 
 

FYou often comes to
Caruzo?”’

“Yes, sir.”

“T should think they would seize him and make him
a prisoner.”

“That, suh, is because yoy do not understand the
awe in which Pinal Pete is held. , He’s a desperado of
the worst sort, Mr. Merriwe Indeed, he would = |

rather shoot a man than ball square meal. ‘More

say this bad man, ~Hyde,

 
    

 

 
         
    
   
   
  
  
   
  
   
  
  
  
    
   
  
   
    
    
   
   
   
   
 
     
 
  
 
 
 
   
 

 ..W
than once he has threatened to take ‘the town. The ' W
citizens have done their best to pacify and appease .
him. Whatever he wants while-in Caruzo he gets. 16
No one man, no body of men dares oppose or annoy =
him in any way. And let me give you a warning, © — f (gi
Mr. Merriwell. In case’ Pete should visit Caruzo fs Ww
while yoy’re in town, keep away from him. If he | aa

learns you have come on here with the idea of inter-
fering with the strike, he may do you damage. I
trust you've been wise enough to keep your coming
secret ?”’

“T’ve not troubled myself about that, major,” said
Frank. ‘The scoundrels who. planned the strike and
put it under way have lost their, grip on Pablo-Mys-
tery Consolidated. The officers of the old company
no longer have control. The moment the strike is
settled at the mine a,board of new officers will be
elected, and the affairs of the consolidation will ‘go
into the hands of honest men. I’ve come en here to
eet an end to that strike, and,I shall do it.’

“You speak with confidence, suh, but I. fear it is
the confidence of a young man who does not realize
the task he has undertaken.” Naa

“Possibly so,” admitted Merry quietly; “but, re-
gardless of the magnitude of that task, I'll complete’
it, or I’ll leave my bones between here andthe Queen
Mystery Mine.”

 

 

; CHAPTER IX.
HANDLING A BAD MAN.

At last the train wound into the hills and arrived
at the station of Caruzo.

As the passengers descended to the platform the
sfation- -agent, apparently under stress of some excite-
ment, mingled with them, asking for Frank Merri- |
well.

“That’s my name, sir,” said Frank.

\ The agent seized him by the arm.

“T ook here, man,” he said, “you'd better get under
cover as quick as you can. You made a mistake in 4
Your life is in the greatest peril.”

a

 

      
      
   
 

    
~

e

peta erent iy: eis

 

TER.

ated

- 5

 

 

erin

 

Reap RS ARAN

aad

OIRO

 

THP--TOP

!” said Merry quietly. “How is that?”
He has received notice of

“Indeed

“Pinal Pete is in town.
your arrival. He says he is going to shoot you full
of holes.”

“Rather interesting information,’ commented
Merry. “Is Mr. Pete alone?”

“No.
They’re up at Murphy’s saloon now.

He has a nigger and a greaser with him.
I expected Pete
would be here when the train got in. He knew you
were coming, Mr. Merriwell.”

There was a clatter of hoofs, and some one cried:

““Here comes Pinal Pete!”

Down the crooked street a horse was tearing at full
gallop, and on the back of that horsé sat.a slender man,
with a long, full black mustache and an imperial. «This
man had something of the appearance: of a cowboy,
and he rode like a centaur. Unbidden, a flash of ad-

niration came into Merriwell’s eyes as he surveyed
he fellow who was tearing at breakneck speed
straight toward the station. :

“You're going to have trouble, Frank, but we’ll
back you up!” palpitated Dick.

“Yes, we'll back you up,’

Conrad. ;
“You bet your life we will!” said old Billy Bolivar,
“You. can—

as he tottered unsteadily toward them.

echoed both hrlington and

_ thic—depend on us to back you up until the cows come \
e home.”

“T see a prospect of several funerals,
jor Golash excitedly.
and carnage. Excuse me while I get out of the way
of stray bullets.” ‘

” gurgled Ma-

Saying which, holding his basket tightly on his arm,
the little man skipped into the station, his fiery whis-
kers flaring out on either side as he ran.

Many others of the new arrivals were frightened,
and there seemed indications of a panic.

Frank turned to his friends.

“Keep back.’ he commanded.

“Don’t interfere.

_ Let me handle this man alone.”

Dropping his traveling-bag, and carelessly thrusting
his hands into the pockets of his coat, Merry ad-

| vanced with a swift, firm step toward the end of the
- platform, where Pinal Pete had flung his horse to a

'. Stand and leaped from the saddle.

  

  
 

_ He was thin-hipped and graceful as a sinewy panther.

“Where is the gent?” cried the bad man, striding

forward with jangling spurs and a look of fierceness
Sufficient to awe almost any“Peholder.

The man was armed with two pistols in holsters.

 

, the bad man.

“There’s going to be bloodshed’

    
  

WEEKLY. TZ,
His eyes glittered with a dangerous light, and the odor.
of liquor was on his breath. |

“Pardon me, sir,” said Merriwell,
ing for any one in particular?”

The bad man stopped short and surveyed Frank
from head to foot.

“Your name’s ‘Merriwel

“Tt is.” |

“Then you’re my meat!”

Like a flash of lightning, Pinal Pete whipped out
both pistols and held them ready for use.

“Good heavens, Dick!’ gasped Arlington, seizing
young Merriwell’s arm with a quivering grip, “he’s
going to shoot!”

Dick’s face was pale, but he spoke steadily, quietly.

“Don’t get excited, Chester. If Frank thinks it

“were you look-

1?” he said.

necessary, he'll shoot first.”

“Shoot first? How can he? Why, he’s covered.
His hands are in his pockets.”

“Just so, and each hand grips a pistol. Pinal Pete
is covered.” av

“But—but

“Keep still! Ww ait! Listen!”

Frank was speaking as calmly as x no pen threat-
ened him.

“What do you mean by saying icc I’m your meat,
sir?” he inquired.

 

’ declared
“I’m going to shoot you full of venti-
lation.” ’

“What aes I was not aware that I had any quar-

“I’m going to make a sieve out of you,’

_tel with you.” ,

“You've come here to ineitee with the strike at
the Mystery Mine. | You’ve stated that you were go-
ing to break that strike.”

ame seem well informed in — to my inten-
‘tions.’

“Do you deny that you sige such a statement } x4

“T donot.”

“You admit it, do you?”

AO,” |

“A cucumber on ice—hie—was 1 never cooler,” mum-
bled Billy Bolivar admiringly. “It’s a shame to seg
him shot up by the gent with the firearms: T’ll have
to interpose. Won’t make any difference if the gent
shoots me a few times, and it may give. him a little
temporary pleasure.”

5

Old Billy would have staggered forward had not
Dick seized and restrained him.

“Keep back,” ordered the boy. “You'll mate a mess
of it if you meddle,” Pay aa

  
   
  
   
 
    
     
   
      
   
   
   
 

   
    
 
  
  
   
   
  
   
  
  
  
  
   
 
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
   
  
   
   
 
 

_ powers for amusement.

 

 

 

18 TIP FOP

99

“Lemme go,” implored the bummer. “Won't make
any difference if he shoots me. Nobody’ll ever miss
me. Nobody’fl ever ‘shed tears over Old Bill the Bum.
But if: he shoots Frank Merriwell, the whole world
will mourn.”

Still Dick held Bolivar in check.

Beneath his heavy mustache Pinal Pete showed his

teeth.
“Well, you certain have nerve to acknowledge it!”
he cried.. “You have nerve to-admit that you’re com-
ing out here to interfere with honest men who are
trying to get their rights.”

“T’ve not come here to interfere with any honest
man,” said Merry. “I’ve come here to interfere with
rascals who are paid to damage my business.”

“Well, you’ye come to the end of your road. To-
morrow is your funeral-day, Merriwell. Make your
will, but make it verbal. If you've got any friends,
state how you'd like to be planted.”

“It seems to be your intention to shoot me down in
cold blood. Are you alone?”

“Oh, I’ve got a couple of pards with me, but Sat re
up at Murphy’s. JI told them to stay away, and let
me settle this business. I told them ,to keep people
_ from rushing down to interfere in our little affair.
, The whole town knows what I’m going to do to you,
. Merriwell.”’

“Evidently you've been Betis You've counted
your chickens before they were hatched. You may
not be aware that I have friends in-‘Caruzo. You may

not be aware that I have friends within reach of you
this minute. Seize him, officer!”

_ Apparently, Merry was looking past the bad man,
at some one behind him as he spoke these words.
Instantly a voice seemed to eprak in Pinal Pete’s ear,
and it sternly cried: 3
| © Up with your hands, Hyde, or I'll blow your head
off!
- With’a snarl, the bad man ducked and whirled, ex-
Pscting to find some one with a gun at his back.
aE WO lightninglike bounds catried Frank ‘upon’ the
| ‘man, On the train Merry had used his ventriloquial
In this instance, however, he
had used them to trick the bad man and save his own
life, | .

Pinal Pete’s sal were eon from beneath him in

a twinkling, and he was pitched forward at full length

‘upon the platform, one of the pistols in his hands being
_ discharged as he fell. With his knee driven deep into
x the smal of the fellow’s back, Frank twisted those
‘weapons f ‘om. rete! 5 Hands. and, cast, them: aside.

of an open book. You wanted the glory of per-

WEEKLY.

Getting a bone-crushing grip on the man’s wrists, he
wrenched them backward and held them as he called
for a ‘rope. |

On the platform had been unceremoniously dumped
one of the trunks of the vaudeville performers, and
this trunk, battered and banged by much transporta-
tion, was tied with a stout cord.

It was Dick who brought forth a clasp-knife and
swiftly cut the cord from the trunk.

“Here you are, Frank!”
with it.

“Just tie his arms, Dick,” said Merry, as he gave
the fellow a twist which made the bones of his shoul-
ders crack, “Keep still, my fine bad man. If you

don't, I’ll have both of your wings out of their
sockets,” .
Indeed, it seemed that Merry would twist the fel-

low’s arms from their shoulder-settings. Strong as
he was, taken at such a disadvantage, Pinal Pete had
_no chance against the finest athlete in America.

| “Hooray! hooray!” cried Billy Bolivar, attempting

to dance a jig and getting his feet tangled, with the

result that he fell to the platform with a heavy crash. |
Arlington and Conrad were on :hand to assist j
Merry if necessary, but Frank and Dick took care of |

_ Hyde.

secured so that only the strength) of\a Hercules could wt

have broken the bonds;
Rising, Merry gripped the fellow’s collar and jerked
him unceremoniously to his feet.

“Indeed, you’re a fine specimen of a bad man!” he

laughed derisively.

tough and dangerous?

| Pretense of being a man-killer.
‘place, I’d be so ashamed that I’d long for Gea i
The man glared and began to curse.
“Stop that!’ commanded Merry.
Look me in the eyes, Hyde.

who did not realize the fact that at heart you’re’'a «|
Look >} .2
ati -

coward. All men of your class are cowards.

me in the eyes. I’m your master. You know

 

ws SPOS,

he cried, rushing forward

When they had finished, Hyde’s arms, were}

en 2 :

“Did you really think yourself.
Why, you’re just about the
biggest dunce I’ve ever encountered who made any —

a aes

If I were in your a

 

“Look at me. hy :

 
 

You've terrorized people -

 
 

|

 

 

5S

 

  
      
      

You've boasted-in this town that you were going to |.

 
 

don’t believe’
You simply sought to.
I can read you like the pages

scare me to death and drive me out. I «
you really meant. to, kill-me.
make me believe it.

 
    

    
 

      
    

7 . fo
eek Pa rae ae OP

   

mous SaaS 2

 
 

tv
ar

je
th

sa

in’

car

his

  
1g.)

. “7 a
PARI ACR 2 seks OE

 

Bi.

 

he oh
lf
We
ty a
fit

 

 

 

1 dat Merriwell maan unless he has to do it.

 
 

things generally,

Tee se

mh

forming this feat alone, and so you left your compan-

ions back in town. Had you brought them with

you, they might have given me a little more trouble.

them now. We'll walk up

They'll be surprised

We're, going to look for
the street and find your friends.
Never mind
Pil

be at your heels, and if you fancy I’m unarmed and

when they see you. Are you ready?

your horse. Leave it. Face about and march.

helpless, I assure.you of your error. Even while you
had your guns drawn I was covering you with a pair
of hammerless, self-acting shooting-irons, and had I
believed you really; meant to fire on me, I should have
put a brace of bullets through you. Bring along my
We'll show the citizens of Ca-

ruzo a bad man who is bad in name only,”

traveling-bag, boys.

CHAPTER X

{ A STRANGE SIGHT IN CARUZO.

Disgusted over being left behind by their master, the
two companions of Pinal Pete, Miguel, the Mexican,
and Buck, the colored man, proceeded to terrorize the
patrons of Murphy’s saloon, and when Murphy ob-
: . + : 5 |
jected they jumped on him, beat him up, smashed
and wended their way to another

saloon, eager for further conquest.

“We sho\hab to h ab some sort ob amusement, Mig,”
said Buck, with a vicious grin. “’Tain’t no use com-

in’ to town if we can't enjoy ourselves nohow.”

“That ees right,’ murmured the ugly little Mexi-

can, as he rolled a cigarette and hung it pendulant on

his lower lip. “Eet have been long time seence I keel

some one. I theenk.mebbe when we come to Caruzo

we help keel Sefior Merriwell, but Sefior Pete he say

he take care of that chap hisself. He no geeve us

9 .
chance to help.

Mig?”
“Still, I happened

“And yo’ powerful disapp’inted,
grinned the hideous colored man.

is yo’,

to heah de boss’ instructions, and he ain’t gwine to kill

He’s

-gwine to skeer dat Merriwell plumb mos’ to def, and
dribe him out ob Caruzo on de jump. Dat’s de job
ory ‘bie cut out fo’ de. boss.”

them.

 
  

WEEKLY:

19

Miguel poised his lighted cigarette between his fin-
gers and slowly shook his head.

“Maybe eet ees too beeg job for Sefior Pete,” he
murmured. “Thees man Merriwell I see heem one.
He have hot reputash.
Si, st. He do not have the look of one to scare easy.
NO”; .

“What am yo’ talking about, Mig? Why, de boss
will gib him jumpin’ fits jest as sho’s yo’ a foot high.
Yas, sah!

well maan.

He ees handsome gringo man.

Der boss will plumb paralyze dat Merri-
What’s dat Merriwell maan comin’ out
heah fo’, anyhow? -What’s he comin’ out heah to
meddle wif de business ob ’spectable laborin’ pussons

fo’,
squench de strike at de mine.

anyhow? Dey say he reckons he’s
Now,

De idee.dat a maan like him can come

gwine to
wouldn’t dat
make yo’ laff!
out heah all by hisself and squench de strike at de’
‘Why, Mig, it am a
Yas, sah! By dis time de boss has dat Metriwell maan

mine! scandicerlous notion.
down on his knees, wif his eyes poppin’ out of his
hade and his teef rattlin’ together like dice in'a box,
jes’ a beggin’ fo’ his skin. Ah can see it in mah mind.
It’s a beautiful@icture. Yah! vant yah!. Heah’s Ken-.

nedy’s saloon, Mig. Let’s go in heah and lubricate.”
The huge negro led the way into the saloon, fol-—

lowed by the soft- footed, catlike Mexican. They

faced the bar, and Buck pounded upon it with the butt.

of a six-shooter as he roared:

“Git a move on dar, yo’ baaaisd ‘Hand out de drinie:
ables in a hurry if yo’ don’ want yo’ ‘place put on de E
bum, de way we jes’ put Murphy’s shebang.” |

The barke¢per hastened to serve them in the most
abject and conciliatory manner, listening with some
alarm to their boasts of the manner in which ee had

put Murpliy’s saloon out of business. Next to Pinal

Pete, these two comrades of his were tnost feared i in

Caruzo. Seldom it was they visited the place! with-
out committing some outrage which awakened the in-
dignation of the inhabitants, and scores of times the

people of Caruzo had talked of the” ie S rope for

One bold citizen had, even eases up and suippeatel a
that the townsmen sacl unite and capture Pete Hyde. if
and ic eget the néarest ae ore Poke ;

   

        
     
     
         
     
     
       
       
     
     
  
 

 

 
  
     
  
  
  
    
  
 
  
  
 
 
  
  
 
 
  
  
  
  
   
  

were many who felt that this would be the proper thing
to do, but few of them had the courage to whisper
such a thought aloud.

The one who was indiscreet enough to do so was
found some days later, lying dead, beyond the outskirts
of the town, with several bullet-holes in his body.
This was sufficient warning to. others; and thencefor-
ward men were careful in, guarding their utterances
concerning the ruffian Hyde, for no one doubted that
it was the work of that desperado.

Beneath the surface in the town there was a feeling
of the utmost hatred and aversion toward Pinal Pete,
but the citizens had not yet reached thespoint where
desperation would lead them to combine to end their
periodical terrorizing by the man.

It is possible they might have disposed of Buck
"and Miguel in short order, but they realized the man

or, the men who offended Hyde by a blow at either of
his companions would be marked for punishment:
Therefore, the black brute and his Mexican friend
swaggered through Caruzo, insulting, browbeating,
and bullying as they pleased. :

Drinking in Kennedy’s saloon, they attempted to
_ joke about the mantier in which they had cleaned out
They
expressed regret that there seemed to be no indications |

Murphy’s place and beaten up the proprietor.
of further amusement of: the same sort. They ex-
pressed a feeling of injury over the fact. that their
leader had not permitted them to accompany him to
the railway-station, to witness the terror and humilia-

eae Pape Frank Merriwell. a

In the midst ‘of this, the barkeeper, happening to
“glance through the open door and down the street,
uttered an exclamation, and observed :

“Heah comes a string of gents from the station, and
‘I opine that’s Pete Hyde marching in advance.”

tot ght 8 bout time for de boss to come along,” said
; Bude “Who's wif him?” ~

_ “There’s a tall, smooth-faced young man in store-

- clothes following ‘behind Pete.” te
Ra “Guess dat must ‘be dat Merriwell maan.
de boss leadin’ dat maan by a halter?”

if neat dogea’t seettl to oa | |

Say, am

* TIP TOP WEEKLY.

_ in open doorways and windows, gazing forth: in won-

    

“eet ees strange Sefior Pete
Ket

ees strange he do not drive heem in front, like the

half-smoked. cigarette,

should let Sefior Merriwell walk behind heem.

horse.”’

 

TT NE inc i ; ss ? ”
ea. eeaeea: aie ws = eee oe er

“Oh, de boss is jes’ showin’ his contemptuousness

x
fo’ dat \man,” declared the negro.. “He says to dat it
maan, says he: ‘Yo’ come along heah, maan, and step i
lively. Yo’ follow me. I'll show yo de way. I'll ie |
take yo’ into de town and show de people of Caruzo de 4
kind ob a chicken-hearted, yeller pup yo’ am.’ Dat’s ig
what he’s sayin’. Dat’s what he’s doin’, Mig.” i.

“Mebbe you’re right,’ said the barkeeper, “but it as
doesn’t look that way to me. Pete certain appears ie
some rumpled and ruffled, a he’s carryin’ his hands ty
behind his back.”’ | ‘a

“Carambal’ cried the Mexican. “That ees strange!” ny

   

“Carryin’ ob his hands behind his back?” roared |,

the colored man. “G’wan wif yo’! Dat must be a |
noptical collusion.” hee .

Both of the ruffians rushed to the door and looked ee.
out. What they saw filled them with unspeakable |

astonishment, for their master, looking crestfallen

 

 

and ashamed, and carrying his hands, as stated, be- oP |
hind his back, was walking slowly up the street, fol- . 4 a
lowed by Frank Merriwell, who had the bearing of a ~
conqueror, and not of one conquered. Behind Mer- .
riwell came his brother, with Arlington and Conrad,
and old Billy Bolivar, who seemed in gay spirits, for
he was lightly, though huskily, singing a merry song. a
Behind these persons in the long procession, which — 2 oa
filled all Caruzo with unspeakable surprise, came Ma-

 

      
   
     
   
    
    
 

jor Golash, with his basket of eggs upon his arm, i ]
the vaudeville performers and other passengers stricige | I
ing out into the distance.

The advent:of Pinal Pete in Caruzo had been. sia I

 
     
 

signal for many peaceably disposed persons to seek

Bre
cover, with the idea of remaining under shelter until —
such time as the ruffian should disappear,

  
         
 

 
 

But now word of the remarkable procession that was 4
filing along the main street of the town spread every-

    
 
 
   

  
 
 

‘where, and hosts of men and a few women appeared

      
     

derment.

  
  

ting the butt of his holstered pistol a sharp slap, to
loosen the weapon in its leather receptacle. “What’s
Mig ?”>

chattered the Mexican.

de boss a-tryin’ to do, anyhow,
“Eet ees most remarkable,

“Seftor Pete he seems to be een trouble. Buck, hees

SS nal cle Sie ee S383 Ra

hands are tied behind hees back! I can see the ropes,”

“Dat can’t be possible,” spluttered the negro. “It

 

sholy am some sort ob mistake, Miguel, mah boy.”

“Eet ees no mistake, Buck. The boss is a prisoner.

 

 

     
      

: v Somehow they trick him, they catch him, they tie
a him.”
: “Then come on,” grunted the huge colored man, as
: 1e -he strode forth; “we'll set him loose in less dan no
ae tire.”
bole
4 CHAPTER XI.
A A ROPE FOR PINAL PETE,
Frank saw them coming, and his hands gripped the
d ready pistols hidden in the side pockets of his coat.
“What’s de matter heah, boss?’ shouted Buck
n sere) Bi
‘J » “You can see,” answered Pinal Pete.
MG “Who done it?”
a | “The gent behind me.’
ae The colored man whipped forth his .45 and held it
id. 4 a ( lightly in his huge black hand, with the muzzle pointed
jah ae skyward, and his eyes fastened on Frank.
ne “Who is dis pusson ?” he inquired. |
Hit Recklessly old Billy Bolivar danced forward,
sie “Permit me to introduce the world conqueror, Frank
n, - Merriwell,” he said, with a sweeping wave of his
gu’) hand. .
ve Quick as thought the Mexican turned a pistol on
h a } Bolivar. |

_/- “You geet away!” he commanded in a sharp tone.
_ “Eef you interfere eet weel be to eat the bullet.”
«‘A thousand pardons! a thousand pardons!” ‘splut-

oe tered old Billy, as he ducked with upcurled arm held

di) Ee? before his face, and swiftly backed off to one’side, “I
ry- | .
a h&ve no appetite for such a lunch, I prefer eggs, good
rea 4 (

_. fresh eggs, at twenty dollars < dozen.”
‘His lips curling contemptuously, the Mangus ere

_ Bolivar no further heed.

TIP TOP WEEKLY.

pected thing, dropped his weapon and made frantic

ruffans,

     
     
    
    
  
      
     
     
       
     
     
   

2u

“Look out for this man, pards!’’ cried Pinal Pete,

referring to Frank. “He’s armed! He’s dangerous!”

“G’wan, boss,” grinned Buck derisively. “Dat maan
dangerous? Yo’ sholy mus’ be joking.”
“Shoot him!’

This was the command for which his satellites had

snarled Hyde.

been waiting, and they received it with all too evident

satisfaction.
Jes’ as yo’ say, sah!” cried Buck. sy

But before he could bring his heavy weapon to a 4

level upon Frank something whistled through the air

Poe

and struck the negro fairly between the eyes.

It was an egg hurled with amazing accuracy by the
hand of old Billy Bolivar.

Now it happened that Major Golash had been >

 

greatly deceived in regard to the freshness of those

eggs.
eggs in his basket, and it happened that the first one

In truth there were very few genuinely fresh

hurled ‘by Bolivar was as stale and foul ‘as an egg

could possibly be. It bespattered its yellow, sticky |
mas$ over the black countenance of the negro, while

the odor that rose upon the open air was sufficient to

      
     
   
   
   
   
     
       
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
       
       
    

be detected by people a long distance from Buck. The —
stench was so horrible ‘and nauseating that the black ae
ruffian involuntarily dropped his pistol, gasping for
breath and staggering like one struck a fearful blow.

Bolivar followed his first shot with a second that
was quite remarkable for its precision, as it struck | ;
Miguel squarely in the mouth, even as the Mexican
opened his lips to speak. And Miguel, like Buck,
gasping and spluttering and dazed by such an. unex-_

efforts to wipe the filthy mass from his hy
“Rah! ’rah! ’rah!” barked Bolivar, \following his.
opening attack with still more eggs, with which he-
pasted first one and then the other of the demoralized
“There was a time when I aspired to be aX,
pitcher on the Yale baseball-team. Control was. one of P
my finest features. Behold, I still have beautiful con-
Take that, man at the bat!” ’ é

     
  

     
           
      

trol.
Anda whistling egg, flying strai Re from the old

bummer’ S hand, smashed behind Miguel’s left ear.

  
      

gn prota who shad ‘anticipated a _ blo
     

   

ms +
See te

suit of the fle
ing at Merriwe
selves.

eae 7 ROE

‘

tragedy, amazed at first by what they beheld, quickly
saw the ludicrous side of it, and burst into roars of
laughter.

“Get into the game, boys!” cried the old bummer.
“The maj’. has a lovely supply of hen-fruit.

that basket and get busy.”

Capture

Arlington and Mertiwell leaped at Major Golash.
The little man squawked his dismay and vainly sought
to retain possession of the basket of eggs, but ere he
could realize the fact it had been snatched from him,
and he was flung by Merriwell into the arms of Con-
rad, who was told to keep him from bothering.

Then Chet and Dick,

3olivar in peppering the

They tore open the basket.
armed with eggs, joined
negro and the Mexican.

It was too much for hunian nature to withstand.
Giving his sleeve a wipe across his eyes, Buck turned
and fled.

Miguel followed the negro’s example.

The hilarious spectators swarmed into the street,
hastily arming themselves with eggs from the basket,
which was quickly depleted of its contents, and joined
in the pursuit, which did not end until Piwal Pete’s
satellites were driven far beyond the outskirts of
Caruzo.

With unspeakable dismay, Hyde witnessed the rout
of his companions. In the excitement the chief rascal
sought to slip away, but Frank Merriwell’s hand had
him by the collar, and Merry’s voice gently bade him
stay. ‘i
“This is a most unfortunate day for the reputation
“You must real-

of bad men in Caruzo,” said Merry.

ize, my friend, that the day of your ee and

_browbeating is ended hereabouts.”

e “Sure,” agreed Pinal Pete disconsolately. What
sane them stop to chin? Why didn’t they shoot first

2 _ and talk, afterward ?”

“Take that to yourself, Hyde. You made your this-

take by stopping to chin sefien you found. me at the
Station.”

A few of the citizens who had not joined in the put-

’s captive and muttering among them-

  
    
         
     
         
       
     
       
     
     
       
       
     
    
 
   
  
 
   
 
   
  
  
  
   
   
   
     
     
        

WEEKLY.

 

for Hyde,

‘maintained a hold upon the captive.

g ruffians now gathered about, glar- | him a alone and unaided.

   

    

“We've got him sure,” said one.
“His

He can’t lift a finger to protect him-

“That’s whatever,” agreed another. hands
are roped fast.
self.”’

“This is the time to settle his case, gents,”
a third.

Then some one cried:

 

spoke up

“Lynch him! , Lynch him!”

In spite of himself, Pinal Pete looked worried, and +
his face paled a bit.

“Where's a rope? Get a rope!’ shouted a man in
woolen shirt and heavy boots.

“Gents,”

short time before, and who entertained an old grudge

. .
said a cowboy who had ridden into town a

“my horse stands yonder in front of the
Grand Hotel.

You’re sure welcome to the use of it, and I

My rope is hanging from the saddle. \
shall take
pleasure in giving a good pull myself.”

They hemmed Merriwell and his captive in, and
swept them toward the only two-story building in the
town; which was known as the Grand Hotel. .

“They mean to lynch me!” exclaimed Hyde huskily. by I
“They'll do it, too. 4
you stop them p”

Can’t youl|prevent it, man? Can’t

 

f
}

His voice quivered ai terror as he made this ap- By
aoa
peal to Frank. Bhs
' “ow
The hotel was reached and eager hands deftly de- / Bd He
tached the cowboy’s’ riata from the thong that, held it Me
_to the saddle., Then an effort was made to fling the
sliding noose over Pinal Pete’s head. pee r
Frank’s hand shot upward, caught the noose, and } "he
snapped it aside. ea
‘ce hk
Stop! | Lane
His voice rang out clear and commanding, There — 1) ‘cla
was a quality, a timbre, in it that made that word. | wy
4 ei

heard above the snarling of the mob now. thirsting fot

the life of Pinal Pete. |
“Stop!” p
Merry’s right hand ewent up, while his left still

 

 

‘
“T took
Not all Caruzo combined has
He is mine, and I alone have’
the right to say what shall be done with him,”

af This man is my prisoner, ” he declared.

ever dared attempt it..
CHAPTER XII.

  

THE ESCAPE AND THE WARNING.

  

The power possessed by some men to check a snar-
This
power was Merriwell’s, and their surging and yelling

  

ling, bloodthirsty mob is absolutely marvelous.

  

 

 

ceased as Frank pulled the helpless captive up onto the

  

lower steps of the Grand Hotel,: mounted at ms side,

  

and faced the crowd.

  
 

Merry’s eyes were clear and keen, his face was grim,

 
 

and his véry aspect was that of a master.

 
 

“This man belongs to me,” hesrepeated. “Had you

   
 

captured him, I could claim no right to interfere with

 
 

you.”

 
 

_ “But he’s.an onery critter and ought to be lynched,”

 

said a miner. i
» “That’s right! that’s right!’
“We re going to string him up!’ E

 

i “No matter
| what this man has done, he has the right of every

+

“Not yet,” tetotted Frank positively.

| citizen of our free country, a fair trial by jury.
8 ne is murder.”

Old’ Major Golash managed to squirm through the
ee crowd and reach the steps.
3 “Fellow citizens,” he shouted shrilly, as he stepped

‘up beside Frank, ‘ ‘Mr. Merriwell is right.

A,

_we.do, let’s do it Ey ORR Let’s give fide fair
_ trial, gents.’ ae

“Aw, what’s the use to % aste the time?”
ae Welt hang him just the same!”
~. “Course we will,
1 | ‘better.”
[ “Hang him now, say I!” | wed %
But there were.a few men who did not join in sig
One of these was the proprietor of the hotel,

1- | who lifted his voice in an appeal for a square trial.

toe fee

, f

a "clamor.

 

athe

little time—not too much, but a little.
‘to do this thing*with a semblance of law and order.

 

Ld

¥ Let's not disgrace Caruzo by our haste,” “if Bae AD

k + For some minutes there was argument and: Whang- sc

| ling, but the sentiment in favor of a trial seemed to
grow, and finally Mer riwell escorted Pinal Pete into

  
  

shouted thanyt ‘voices.

Whatever.

and the aR it’s dite the

“We've got him, gents—we’ve got him safe ise
B 13 Solid,” said the landlord. “We can afford to take a —
We. can afford

; with a scent. that is little short of natiseating.”

the hotel, where it was meireerroty that the man shostid iy

WEEKLY.

he kept_under guard until the citizens decided upon
their course of action.
The rufhian, now thoroughly cowed; once more ap-
pealed to Ftank. |
“They'll hang me sure,” he said. “’Tain’t no use
to talk about a fair trial, for I won’t get it. They’ye
made up their minds to string me, and they'll do it.”

“Undoubtedly you deserve to be hanged,” said

Merry; “but, the law should punish you, not a mob of
infuriated private citizens.”
“The law?” said Pinal Pete derisively.

ain't much law in Carnzo now.

“There
I opine I should be

some obliged to you for the short breathing: quell

you’ve given me, but it can end only one way.”

“You must have realized for some time what the
end of your career would be, Hyde. Who are your.
employers? Who sent you here to. drive me out of
this town and turn me from my purpose?” | /

The ruffian shook his head.

“TI ain’t goin’ back on nobody,” he said.
ner. You looked so clean and slick and so much like
a tenderfoot that I didn’t’ reckon you any dangerous.
I know my mistake, but it’s too late.”

“We're going to do our best to carry this thing out

properly,”’ asserted Major Golash.
Eh, gents?” M

formed in a manner creditable t6jthe town and the
citizens thereof. :
“But I’m sorry to say, gents,

99

observed the niaj jor,

‘ “that we shall bg unable to celebrate the conclusion of |

‘the ceremony by partaking of those egg-noggs I have
_ promised you. My eggs were’ ruthlessly appropriated, —

and brazenly used as ammunition in ssi aren; of. my

protests.”

“Well, major, if you Mitek plated making eee ide
of those eggs, it sure is a good thing for us all that
they were used for another purpose. Why, the very
The:
main street of our booming young city is odoriferous

, air of Caruzo ‘smells unto heaven this moment.

‘And I ‘took so much: trouble to get those eu »
complained the major 2F sorrow fully. “That old arcane

“Tf we decide to

hang you, we'll do it with some style.
Several others who had backed Merriwell up, now.

agreed that the hanging of ee Pete must be per- _

“I made a —
blamed fool of myself by underestimating you, part-_

    

 
   
      
     
   
     
 
 
 
 
 
   
 
 
 
 
  
   
  
  
  
   
   
  
  
  
  
     
   
    
  
      
  
 
    
Pa §

~\ in such pr actise stood ‘me in good stead to- -day:

as fast as their feet would

TIP TOP WEEKLY.

who sold them to me in Nevis lied like a trogper, for
he said they were all fresh.”

“Doubtless they were some time before the war,
major.”

Dick and Chester had returned from the pursuit of
Buck and Miguel, and they announced that the last
seen of the two they were hoofing it to the westward

a few of the citizens who had sent some bullets singing
after them. :
Old Billy Bolivar came sauntering in with a jaunty

air, his battered hat cocked over his ear and a beaming

\ smile on his unshaven face.

“Major,” he cried, seizing the hand of Golash and

carry them, spurred on by |

wringing it until the little man squirmed, “that was .

\the finest bargain in eggs that I ever made: But I

must confess that I’m glad I didn’t have that hen-fruit |

boiled, fried, frizzled, or scrambled for my mastica~
tion. Gentlemen, we’ve surely hada lovely time in
Caruzo. I'll never ae my first advent in your
booming young town.’ vd
“Billy,” laughed, Dick,

a rifle-expert.

“you have the deadly aim of

It was marvelous with what accuracy

you nailed those ruffians with the eggs.”

“Not yet, not yet hath my hand lost all its cunning,”
chuckled the tramp. ‘Time was when I could throw a
baseball aoe amazing precision, and the skill acquired
This

‘ goes to show, my young friend, that whatever we learn

-

to do well may some day prove of value unto us. The °

arid atmosphere hath created a distressing dryness in

“my throat. Gentlemen, it’s my treat.. Landlord, con-

duct us to the bar.” sis ech eee y

AX few thirsty ones,followed Bolivar to the ba
whieh was pointed otit by the proprietor of the house.
“The landlord himself, however, remained behind and

3 “eugecsted that Pinal Pete should be placed in one of)

the upper rooms and guarded by, well-known citizens

of the town, while the method of settling his ve
_dehated upon.

So the captive was ‘marched up the stairs and into a
“room | t the rear of the building. Major Golash and
‘several ‘others constituted tipaisr tyes. asa a body-guatd
to watch © ovcr the man.

Pete had heaped upon the place.

openly to pay anything against the ruffian.

“Do you think .they’ll hang him, Frank?” asked
Dick, as Merry came down the stairs.

“The chances are about twenty to one that Pinal
Pete will be strung up before sunset—if we permit it.”
“The

who deserves to be

“Why should we interfere?” cried Chester.

rascal is a dangerous villain
He might have shot you down, in cold blood,

—_

hanged.
Frank.”

“But he didn’t,”
so, but it seems to me he chose to frightén me and

said Merry. “He might have done

turn me from my purpose instead of killing me.”

“Will you interfere if they give him some sort of a
mock trial and condemn him?”

“T shall try to induce them to turn him over to an
officer, with the purpose of having him locked up and

Fi

held for trial on some legitimate charge.”

“But yeu can’t hold the whole. town in check,” said

Conrad.
“Perhaps not, ae it may be that these Pe are

amenable to reason.’

It seemed, however, that there was little chance of
reasoning with the aroused populace. Caruzo had too
long suffered beneath the bullying of the bad man, and
it was now eager to lose no time in putting Hyde out
of the way, even though there was a desife to do it
W ith dome’ semblance of form and ‘decency. In the

bar of the hotel men recounted the indignities Pinal

They spoke of the
man who had been found shot to death after daring
The babel
of voices rose louder and. loudet.

“Inthe room above the captive heard. those sounds
and. shivered. His eyes turned appealingly to his
guards, and among them were several who gave him >
meaning looks of encouragement. There was one who!
Aeft that room and slipped quietly out of the hotel.
Unobserved, this man took the cowboy’s horse from
in front. of the building and led it round to the rear.

From the window, of aie room one of the guards’

os as watching, a and the two. exchanged ‘signals.

‘The: “uproar in the barroom grew and swelled. Unisys a9

checked by the force that had restrained them, those

_men again clamored for the life of Hyde.

 
4
f
ie
n
a
ig
44
\
ie
i

 

re.

 

 

 

TIP TOP WEEKLY. 25

But when they burst forth, headed by newly con- ‘- bfidle-rein. Ere the man could speak Dick was in the

stituted leaders, and dashed for the stairs, they found

Frank Merriwell and his comrades there to block their

/

_ passage.

{??

“Tt ain’t no use, stranger!

shouted a miner. “‘This

fooling around and wasting time is all rot! We're

1”?

going to lynch the critter right away!

At this juncture a strange uproar rose above their

heads. Men shouted loudly, and there was the sudden

cracking of a pistol, six shots sounding in quick suc-

cession.
There was no checking the mob then.

the stairs in a wild burst of frenzy, and at the door of

It swept up,

the room where Pinal Pete had been it was met by two

of the guards, who shrieked that Hyde had broken :

loose, jumped from the window, seized a horse, and

was escaping.

Cursing like maniacs, the crowd turned back and

went tearing down the stairs and out upon the street.

{ . .
Outside they found men running to and fro, while one

or two, who had secured horses, were already dashing

"away along the street.

 

Hyde, astride the cowboy’s horse, had suddenly

flashed round the corner of the hotel, and, leaning low
in the saddle, headed toward the trail that led wes:
ward through the hills to the desert: beyond. ©

How this amazing escape had been accomplished

few seemed to have the slightest. idea:

Every man

who could do so sought a mount, with the idea of ta-

7; king part in the pursuit.

| swinging into the saddle.
—. “Wait! cried Dick. “I'll give yon fifty dollars for
) the use of that horse!”

- The man looked at him in surprise.

““What’s the horée worth ?”
cote hundred dollars.”’

' ‘ “Pl buy him. Here’s your money.”

Dick Merriwell found one man on the point of

¥

“What do you want of the HORS ee >” he de-
-manded.
_ “I want to get into this chase,” said Dick.

“And mebbe you eo 't bring my cayuse. back.’”’ -

;

j
jf

Two fifty-dollar bills were thrust, into the hand of “horse seemed to increase,

the surprised man, and young Merriwell seized the

, Merriwell entered the room from which Pinal Pete

the starlight of Northern nights. A chill wind rose

    

     
      
  
  
   
  
   
   
   
  
  
   
   
  
   
   
    
  
   
    
  
    
 
   
  
  
  

saddle and away. ¢

Instead’ of joining in the tumultuous chase, Frank

had &caped, hoping to learn the meaning. of that sur-
prising occurrence. He found the window smashed
and broken, with pieces of sash and: glass dangling
around the edges. Apparently the desperado had flung
himself bodily through that window. . j

But how had Hyde broken his bonds?

_Frank caught up a piece of rope which lay in a
corner. '

“Something they overlooked,” he muttered, as he
examined the rope. “So, so! That explains it. Cut!
Somebody cut, him loose. He had friends enough
among those men to aid him in getting away. It’s
plain Pinal Pete is not my only enemy in Caruzo.”

* * * * * * *

With the sinking of the sun darkness shut down
swiftly across the desolate world and hid the distant
mountains, where. i in wien Valley lay the troubled
mine. ore

Pete Hyde’s appropriated horse had proved fleet BS
strong, bearing him pe the shelter of the hills and
from sight of his pursuers. Those pursuers scattered
and chose the) three possible routes which the fugitive
might follow on his way westward.

Dick Merriwell kept with a small party who chose : |
one of the three routes until his horse stepped in a hole,
wrenched his leg, and became lame. Eventually Dick
fell behind and was left by the others.

As night came on the bof ‘suddenly realized: the -
fruitlessness of his efforts and turned back, walking
the horse slowly. \

       
  
   

The stars came out and twinkled clean and cleave
overhead. The sky was cloudless, and the light of the
stars seemed wonderfully strong in comparison with ,

 
 

    

f
I

      
 

and soughed through thé valleys.

    
 

_ Dick was thinking of the exciting events of the day.

    
 

He knew it would take some time to return to Caruzo

    
  
  

at this rate; and each moment the lameness of the

 
 

     

Finally the boy sprang down, saying ; f
  

26 T4P

  

“Too bad, old fellow. I can
foot it. Come on.” * . |

He led the animal,

Pll not burden you.

1 *
which limped along behind him.

ee ruffian.”’

“So that’s what you think, kid, is it?” said a voice
that gave Dick a start.

. Not twenty feet away a man stepped out-of: the
shadows into the clear starlight. His hand gripped

a pistol, which was leveled at the boy. 7

“Don’t try to draw a gun, for I’ll have to shoot ‘you

’

if you do,” said this man. “I sure would hate to do

that under the circumstances.”’

With no small amount of dismay, Dick recognized
Pinal Pete. }
“You?” he breathed.

“Sure,”

.

“Fooled ’em, didn’t
I? Let ’em go whooping away on a wild- -goose chase
while I kept under cover, Now, I'll circle and take my

time to ayoid them, Is it right, kid,

_ ‘Ffank Merriwell’s brother ?”

—“That’s right.”
“And that’s why I stopped ye. That’s why I didn’t
let ye go on without holdin’ ye up.”

said the bitfiarl coolly.

that you’re

Dick felt his. flood grow cold, for-there seemed
something sinister .and terrible in the man’s words,
“ST just want to say a few things to you, kid,”
Pinal Pete. “I ain’t goin’ to waste no time welder,
so don’t git impatient. I was sent into Caruzo to take
_ the nerve out of your brother and. turn him back so -he
-wouldn’t interfere with the strike at the mine. I
opined it would be an easy» job, and that’s where. I
made | my mistake. That there brother of yours is a
heap deceptive. He’ 's about the toughest gent I ever
bucked up against, though he don’t look it.
you to carry a little message to him from me.

said

‘TI want
Tell

4 a might have blown you fill of holes before you could

wiggle a finger.
| Tell him that I let you perambulate on your way with-
*. out harming you any whatever. Give him my com-
: ay that I did this. in return for the.

hen. he held up that. bunch

   

TOP

pet “Merry made a mistake,” he muttered. “It would
We . |
ei have been better had he let those men lynch that

him that I had you under the muzile of my gun, and >

Tell him 1 didn’t shoot you'up any. |

  

    

WEEKLY.

    

     

    

who would have taken me to a tree or a telegraph-pole

     

[ judge that will make us

   

and stretched my neck.

 

somewhere near even, and when we meet again we can

 
 

have it out man to man, all square and fair and ‘reg-lar.

 
 

That’s some decent, ain’t it, kid? |

 
 

Se ee Fr oe

 
  
   
   
  
  
  
 
   
    
    
    
  
  
    
   
  
    
  
 

“Now, I have just one more thing to say. Your
brother is a good fighter. ‘I should hate to see him
done up in a dirty way, but he’s right likely to get his —
His

enemies have some men in that town who may take a

finish if he don’t keep on his guard in Caruzo.
P g

notion to stick a. knife in Frank Merriwell’s back.

 

While you're giving my complinients, add this as a

warning. Tell him to be on his watch night and day, | »
and not to trust any galoot. That’s about all, kid. [I ‘yy

have my horse in a thicket near here, and I’ve got to be

 

to
moving. Sorry your critter went lame so you'll have | 7 ci
to hoof it into town, but such things’ will happen. ) "
Good night, kid. . Mosey along and don’t bother your Bi Tel
head about Pinal Pete. He’ll take care of himself.” a Bi
The man stepped aside and stood there, his pistol | — of
ready, while Dick passed on, Lh ae es
_ “Good night, Hyde,” called the boy. ‘“You’ve got ; ie | ze
a black record, but:somehow I faticy there’s a white ~ Sie
streak in you still.” aa.” if a
“Thank ye, kid, thank ye,” said Pinal Pete pleas- 3 ei
antly. ““Mebbe you’re right, but I sure judge that |
white streak is a heap soiled.” tel “ ee.
When Dick finally. ventured to, look back the man. Sa

had vanished;

'

THE END,

 
 

The Next Number (615) Will Contain

 
   
      

OR, »

 
 

}

FRANK MERRIWELL FACING HIS FOES.

j
eee

      
   
    
   

  

Beneath the Stars—Pinal Pete Explains—A New Activad.
in Caruzo—The Plan —The Winner —The Shot
‘Through the Window—The Fate of Pinal Pete—

‘ Engaging a Printer—What Happened to Dick—The_

» Captive —The Dread Pursuer—Morning at the ‘Min ‘

| allt the aod of the eave |

  
 

   
 
  

  
 
  

    
   
 
   

  

 

 

   

  

 
 
 

  
 

 
 

 
  
  

 

 

‘ thought that Minnesota was very far West.
_ however, that the people there considered themselves as living
_ rather East than West, for they always spoke of the country be-

' to, in Curtis’ opinion.

 

ELP. TOP

| Adventures of T wo Young Stockmen.

 

By JOHN N. WHARTON.

 

(IN TWO PARTS.)

_——--

PART I.
IN THE BAD LANDS.

Some years ago, while on a tour through the Yellowstone
Valley in southern Montana, the writer made the acquaintance
of two stockmen, whose account of their fortunes and adven-
tures in .this section of the country for eight years made so
interesting a story—through an entire evening—that I feel sure
readers will enjoy even the hasty and very imperfect sketch
of it which I have been able to make.

Harland Davis went to,western Minnesota from Rhode Island
in 1874. He was at that time eighteen years old. His father
was a hardware-dealer in easy circumstances,

Harland did not like the clerk-work in the storg, nor yet the
business. He had dreafns of making his fortune either at stock-
raising’ or mining, or perhaps by taking up land at some new

_' Western town, and talked so persistently about it that his father

at length gave him permission to go to-Minnesota on a visit
to the family of his uncle, Darius Stone, who had moved there
eight or ten years. before. ;
This conclusion was reached because it was thought that the
best course to take with him would be to let him try rough
Western life for a time; and if he did not like it he could

“return, and would then, perhaps, be contented at home.
+ Mr. Stone, his Minnesota uncle, had a son, Curtis, who. was

about the age of Harland. The two young men had’ been cor-:

respondents, and it is possible that the exaggerated statements

of his Western cousin, in his letters.about the. West, had intensi-
fied Harland’s desire to go there. t*

He arrived in Minnesota in September—in the midst of grain
harvest, or, rather, grain threshing. Up to this time he had
He soon. found,

yond the Missouri River as the West. a
He found also that his Cousin: Curtis was as discontented

in his father’s Minnesota farm as he had been in his father’s
_ hardware-store in Rhode Island.

Western. Dakota and Montana was the grand country to go
He was confident that a stock-farm there
was sure to bring a man a fortune in eight or'ten years. Har-
land was, of course, influenced by this enthusiastic spirit; and, as

  
 
 

soon as the wheat was harvested, the two young men, with one
or two other men who had been working for Mr. Stone, set off
ona “prospecting” trip westward into Dakota.

They rode on ponies, as everybody does in that region, and

were away six weeks seeking a good location for a stock-range. |

‘From his own statement, they :were enjoying themselves in a

-manner altogether new to Harland Davis.
' The little prairie lake§ and “slews,”’ which they were con-

stantly coming upon, swarmed with teal, mallard, and some-

imes noble flocks of wild geese; and they had little difficulty

in shooting deer every day.

The passage of the Missouri River was made on-a ferry-boat |

near Fort Yates; and the first afternoon out from this post, on

the rolling prairie to the west of\it, they saw a herd of at least.

three hundred buffaloes moving in long lines to the south-

ward. . : re \ ,
Three days after leaving the ‘Missouri River, they came to the

borders of that singular tract of country known as the mauvaise

erre, or “bad lands,” of the Little Missouri. Here, for scores’

and hundreds of square miles, the deep clay and soft strata

ndstone have been guttered out into strangely precipitous
tulches and cafions. These link together on every hand, enclo-

sing those odd-looking peaks, or buttes, the bare, crumbling sides

of which give the entire region the aspect of a desert. ©
Beneath the clay and sandstone strdta are beds of lignite, a

he buttes with red scoria ‘and vastsmasses of lavalike clinkers ;
kit is little ‘wonder that the early voyagers here, bewildered
‘in the strange mazes of the buttes and cafions, gave the region.
name of the mauvaise terra. ¢ vate ode A
In many places the scenery is really terrific, and like nothing
Beas bo. yA a an

} \ nad me
; ;

    

WEEKLY 27

else within the whole breadth of the national domain. - Yet,
though so horribly broken, there is much good soil in these so-
called “bad lands,’ lying in small tracts along the beds of the
older cafions or valleys, and sometimes on the tops of the larger
buttes. In some: of the ravines there is red cedar and poplar,
with occasional pine. The grasses, both prairie grass and buffalo
grass, grow ac.

To Harland Davis it seemed the strangest country he had
ever seen or dreamed of. The little party wandered about from
one gorge to another, hardly knowing, even with the aid of a
compass, where they would come out or how they would get out.

Antelopes were so plentiful that they shot all they wanted for
food without going out of their way; and they saw numbers
of black-tailed deer on the buttes. It was easy to build shelters
for thé night; and for a fortnight, during the pleasant October

weather, they enjoyed themselves, as only a ‘party of healthy

fellows out on a,camping-out tour can.

Nevertheless, they did not forget the purpose off their joutney,
and they. came at length to a place where both Curtis and Har-
land felt sure they could do well at stock-raising.

It was at a locality where there were a number of broad
buttes, or, rather—as the writer would be inclined to term it—
elevated plateaux, of considerable extent. These plateaux of
prairie were a part of the former land-level of the country; but
on all sides of them the soil was now gullied away in ravines to
the depth of from two to three hundred feet. : ee

“Here’s our chance, Harl!” Curtis exclaimed, after a long
look across the level, airy surface. “‘For, pot you see, it won't
cost’ us a cent for fences! Fence is what eats up a fellow’s

money, and fence every. small stockman must have unless he.

wants to sit in his saddle all day long. Here are fifteen hundred

acres—just about what we want—all fenced, as you may see.”

No creature could get down these ravines, or would ever try to.
Nobody can get across to us, either. We've got the whole range

_to ourselves—if the redskins will let us alone; and we haven't

&

seen any of them yet.” p24
On the south side of the first plateau the bank was at one point
not so steep, or, rather, it fell off some twenty feet only to a plot

of grassy, sloping ground, which at a distance of half a mile

ei was bounded by a deep gulch filled with cedar and thorn-
rush.

Down near this gulch the two boys concluded to build their

“shack,” or cabin, not far7from where they had discovered a
spring of water in the ravine. It would require, they saw, less

‘than a week’s work for two men, either by a ditch or by a cedar

bridge, to complete the fencing of this lower, sloping tract, and

_ open a cattle-path down the bank to it from the plateau.

They could thus have their stock-yards down near their shack,
and in the dry season water their cattle at the spring. In short,
they had discovered here—as they thought—a good range for
at least a thousand head of cattle, all fenced, and with no cash

outlay needed to. tommence operations.

In November the boys got back to Minnesota. They had beer
ouy in two snow-storms, but reached home hale and hearty,
and. full of enthusiasm, too, for their new project.

Harland wrote to his father glowing accounts. of their futur?
plans and eee The old gentleman was rather sorry to
receive them; he had hoped that Harland would come back con-
tent to stay at home; but, finding that he was still persistent and

determined, and with a prospect of success, he sent him four

hundred dollars, bidding Him be industrious and honest, and’do.

his best. te ;
In April the two intending partners, putting their money to-
gether, began to huy stock. They had seven hundred dollars in
cash and two riding-ponies. During the month they bought thirty
yearling heifers and ten fine néw milch cows, with their calves
by them; also a blooded animal for breeding purposes, which they
named Duke. 3 ‘e
“On the, twenty-fourth day of May they set off to drive their

herd by easy stages across the country from Minnesota to their

new ranch in the “bad lands” of the Little Missouri. ‘The dis-
tance—as I should estimate it—was at least four hundred miles.
Stockmen in the Western territories not unfrequently drive their
herds six or even eight hundred miles, letting them graze as
thgy moved on, making not more than from six to ten miles per

1 day. Stock thus .carefully driven will commonly arrive at its. A
\kind of soft coal. In many places these beds have burned out, # ay
are still on fire, filling the gulches and covering the sides of <6 Se

destination in good condition, often fat.

. .

me stockmen hold that the exercise of such daily driving

is better for a herd than the inaction of a fixed range: The —

Tartar herdsmen of the Asiatic steppes have from time imme-

Pnorial pursued this course with their herds and flocks, migras
ting with the season along extended routes, pasturing

,

ist then. adventurers Spneaes am, 34

ae Shey et 2

  
   
   
   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
   
   
  
  
 
 
  
   
   

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28 TIP TOP
prairie lands of Dakota. They commonsy made their night camp
beside some little lake, or “slew.” It was late in June when
they reached the Missouri River, which they crossed at Old Fort
Yates—I think they said—and here they lost a cow, which fell
overboard from out the old barge used as a ferry, and was
carried down the strong, muddy current. They were not even
able to recover the carcass, which was lost on the quicksands
and mud,

The Missouri is a stream which never gives up its prey; once
in its clutches, man or beast is as good as drowned and buried,
too. It may not sound patriotic for an American to say it, but
it is, on all accounts, about the meanest river of its size—and
it is plenty large enough—on the whole face of the globe. It
runs mud porridge the year round, and it is always either up
at flood-height, tearing its banks to pieces and sweeping away
‘everything on the bottoms, or else it is down burrowing half
out,of sight in the sand. Nature never intended it for a navigable
river.

The boys had also lost one calf from wolves, two or three of
which came sneaking into their camp one night and throttled it
before they had time to béat them off.. But they had come upon
three stray steers on their route, which fell into their herd. As
these animals were not branded, they made no scruple of taking
oor in as: their own, according to common practise in the far

est.

For their own brand they had adopted the initial letters H. C.
with a bar over, branded on the flank.

Everything went on without serious disaster with them. until
the fifth day out, west of the Missouri. That was a black day,
indeed! They were following up the bottoms of the Cannon
Ball River, so-called, having that small tributary on their north.

About three o'clock that afternoon, as they were resting their
cattle, which“were, lying down chewing their cuds among the
willow-clumps*along the bank, they heard a singular, low, rum-
bling noise, which tmmediately grew louder.

“That can’t be thunder, .can it, Harl?” said Curtis.

“Sounds too steady for thunder; it sounds like a train of
cars,” replied Harland.

“But there isn’t a railroad within a hundred miles of here,”
said Curtis.

The rumbling noise grew louder every second: It seemed to
come from behind the bluffs, to the south of the river:

“It is either a railroad or something heavy, coming directly
this way, too!” exclaimed Harland, jumping from the ground.

Just then they heard shots, then shouts and yells, and saw
an immense cloud of dust rising over the bluffs. Both boys
bounded into their saddles, and started up their cattle. They tried
to get them into a run up thé river. But the drowsy animals
started slowly; and-before they had proceeded a hundred yards,
there burst over the top of the bluffs above them, and came plun-
ging down upon the bottom, an immense herd of buffaloes—all
in mad flight. ‘

A whirlwind of dust, like spray from‘ the foot of Niagara,
rolled up from under them! and in the rear ofthe struggling
mass of bodies could be seen a score of tawny horsemen, spur-
ring their ponies into the midst of the bellowing mob, firing
rapidly on all sides and yelling like fiends at every shot.

Both shots and shouts were well-nigh drowned by the con-
fused bellowing and roar of the flying herd. The very ground
shook beneath their headlong rush. Antelope, several deer, and
a big silver-tipped bear headed the stampede, and all bore directly
out across the bottom toward the river, where our two young
stockmen were vainly trying to get their animals out of the track
of the hunt.

In less time than it takes to write this line they were in the
midst of the thundering mélée, struggling and spurring for their
lives.

Their own hitherto quiet cattle, struck with’ terror, or else
catching the wild spirit of the fleeing buffaloes, sprang away with
loud bawlings and tails eréct, and in a moment were lost to
view amidst the shaggy groups of their wild congeners.

Our ‘two friends could do nothing to keep them under control.
Each had all he could do to keep from being overborne and
trampled under foot. Luckily, they were mounted on well-
trained and sturdy ponies. , :

Somehow, neither could tell exactly how, they’ found them-.
selves wallowing in the middle of-the river, with the whole gang”
of hunters—Indians and _ half-breeds—shouting and whooping
around them, and the stream literally red with blood. Buffaloes
were dropping thickly all about. |The bank was strewn with
bodies of the huge animals, and with desperately wounded bulls
which roared horribly in their dying throes; while. upon the
jammed mass of bodies in the water the infuriated hunters faigly,

 

     

WEEKLY.

= ig their horses, and, drawing their knives, struck right and
left.

The slaughter was sickening. To MHarland’s and Curtis’
alarmed and astonished eyes the hunters looked to be veritable
demons, whose one motto was Kill—Kill!

But. the hunt swept past\as swiftly as it had poured down
upon them. In a mintte they found themselves in the rear of it
—amid a whole riverful of dead and disabled buffaloes. Among
these lay nearly all their own cows and calves and several of the
yearlings. ‘The rest had crossed with the buffaloes pursued still
by the wild hunters, who seemed determined to slaughter the
entire herd.

The two young men rode out of the water and gazed anx-
iously and sadly about them. Save their ponies, they had lost,
or as good as lost, everything. Their whole herd of cattle had
been swept away, and that, too, when after 'a long journey they
had arrived within forty miles of their new ranch.

Accustomed to the quiet prosperity of New England, Harland
could scarcely conttol his emotion.

“We're ruined! We're ruined! he
cried out bitterly.

“Waal,’ that’s the size of it,” replied Curtis, who possessed
perhaps more ‘of the coolness of a Westerner than his cousin.

Disasters like these were always liable to befall the pioneer
in the far West. And it depended upon whether he had in him
the true grit, or “sand,” as they say, to rally from such
“crushers,” that determined the question of his final sticcess. A
great many, after such a reverse, went back home wilted, and
heaping anathemas on the West.

Harland Davis and Curtis Stone sat on their ponies and Jooked
about them upon the scene of the slaughter in the!rear of the
hunt. The stream was fairly clogged with the bodies of buf-
faloes and those of their luckless cattle. The whole bottom, too,
and the sides of the bluffs were strewn with dead and disable
animals.

“This is a bad day for us, Harl,” said Curtis,

Harland was too much discouraged to even speak.

Ere long the hunters—a party of thirty or forty Sioux and
half-breeds, with two or three frontiersmen—came riding back
on their reeking ponies, reviewing the spoils of the slaughter.

Presently one of the white hunters rode up to them.

“Sorry for yer,’ he said. “I see ye’Ve lost yer drove: It’s
rough on yer, but we couldn’t ’a’ helped it, anyhow. We’s bound
to have them’ buffels; an’ yer might’s well try to stop a norther
as ter stop a créw of these pesky redskins when they gits arter
buffels. But pitch in an’ help yersel’s to meat. There’s enough
for all, I reckon, an’ hides, too.”

They stayed there by the Cannon Ball River for four or five
days, living on buffalo-meat, a stock of which they hung up to
dry in the hot sun. Meantime, a whole ‘tribe of Indians, twenty
or thitty lodgesy had come up and were stripping the slain buf-
faloes and feasting on the flesh.

The night following, a pack of wolves rushed in and held
carnival on the refuse.. When our two friends rode over the
ground next forenoon, there was nothing left either of the buf-
faloes or of their own late fair herd Save scattered white bones,
and three of four hundred black-horned skulls, each guarded by
a snarling coyote.

Not much in the way of capital to start again on! And yet
the alert eye of Curt Stone saw something in these three or four
hundred horned skulls out of which to retrieve their fortunes!

“Truly,” I said to myself, when they told me of it, “there is no
such thing as beating a young fellow who has true grit in him
and a good eye for chances.”

The year before, Curtis had been at Fargo, Dakota, and in the
hotel there had seen séveral sets of buffalo-horns, each nicely
polished to a shining black afld bound about at the middle,
where the coarse bone connects the two horns, with pink and
blue silk. Such sets make very pretty office and dining-room

\?

Everything has gone

ornaments, and at that time were more rare than now. Curtis
had never seen horns thus polished before. He asked the price,
and was informed that they brought seven dollars per set. Curtis

then asked the young man who had them for sale what he would
give for sych sets, and was offered four dollars for each and every
perfect/and well-polished set he would bring in.

He ‘was told; too, that the way to prepare the horns. was

'to take them “green,” or, at least, before they became much

dried, and after first cleanging them, scrape them with glass,
and then polish them with sandpaper, till they took on the
beautiful ebony-black which makes a set of. buffalo-horns so
handsome a present to a friend.

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Not last long and be very sure to address your letter

 

 

 

 

 

TIP TOP,

 

1
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2? AgidealFubligation

 

 

 

 

 

NEW YORK, January 18, 1908.

TERMS TO TIP TOP WEEKLY MAIL SUBSCRIBERS.
(Postage Free.)
Single Copies or Back Numbers, 5c. Each,

 

BS AMONUHA oy sin sadcededecessspeus 658."|, On year int risa, evucaodns $2.50
Or SHS 3) ino iss dec cws~ ce at's 85e. 2 copies one year..........00.. 4.00
SOMME UD . edidc dan endcdwenhy $1.25 1 copy two years..c.s. cc... ee abo

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

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

STREET & SMITH, Publishers,
79-89 Seventh Avenue, New York City.

Ormonp G. Smrrn, } Propeds
Grorce C. Smrtn, ¢ /7oPrttors.

 

TIP TOP ROLL OF HONOR.

Following the suggestion of Mr. Burt L. Standish, that appeared
in his letter to Tip Top readers in No. 480, the following loyal Tip
Toppers have won for themselves a place on our Honor Roll for their

, efforts to increase the circulation of the King of Weeklies. Get inline
boys and girls and strive to have your name at the head of the list,

Thos. P. Conboy,
Ernest Rowland

John Rowe, Conn.

John Kelly,

David Parkhurst,

Dick Stanley, Penn.

Eddie M. Drummond, Virginia.

Francis, H. Sayles, Actor, «On the Road.’*
Richard Unbehaun, Conn.

Sergt. Fred Tinker, “Retired,” Kansas City, Mo.
T. A. Riordan, Esq., Adelaide, So. Australia.

The names of other enthusiastic Tip Toppers will be added from
time to time. Send in the result of your efforts to push the circula-
tion of your favorite weekly and win a place on the Roll of Honor.

APPLAUSE.

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

 

 

 

 

SPECIAL NOTICE—There has been such a continuous aall for the
Series of Tip Top postcards which we issued about two years ago, that we
have reprinted the set, and any boy who writes us, telling why he loves
Tir Top, and what the magazine has done for him, as well as what he is
doing to increase its circulation, will, upon request, receive a set. of these
fine cards free by mail. Write early, as the supply is limited, and may

Post Card Offer,” Tip Top Weekly,

Allow me to add my small share of Applause to that of your
thousands of other readere of “Tip Top. Weekly.” It is only

} Row and again that a copy of “Tip Top” is to be had in this

town, and then when one does get it, it is nearly a year old.
haye read a good number of the stories, and think that all the

4 Sharacters are very true to life, I Wish to subscribe regularly

  

WEEKLY. 29

to your paper, and am sending with this letter a postal note and
wish you would send me as many copies as the money will admit.

Wishing you every success for the future of yout paper, I will
close my letter, with cheers for Frank and Dick, and remain,

G. RALPH,

31 Gladstone Street, Sydenham, Christchurch, New Zealand.

We are glad to have such a cheery letter from a sincere friend
in the antipodes, and he may b¢ sure a bundle of “Tip Tops” has
long ere now been sent forward. If these far-away admirers of
the Merriwells would only rely upon the mails in order to secure
“Tip Top” regularly we feel sure it would come promptly and
be a never-failing well-spring of delight from one end of the year
to the other.

 

(A letter from Florida.)

I am a new reader of “Tip Top.” I have been.reading them
about two months. I have read a few Medals. I have just -fin-
ished No. 594-of “Tip Top.”. Oh! I am so sorry that little Tom
went away so soon, but I am glad that he went with the happy
children. Please send me a catalogue of the “Tip Top” and
Medal Library. Please oblige me by putting this in the Applause
columns, CiirFrorp W. ADAMS.

Well, you have a delightful outlook, Clifford, with all that great
stock of Merriwells yet unread.. Most boys would envy you the
treat. The catalogues have been mailed.

 

We have read “Tip Top” from No. 1 to date, and we think
it is simply great.

Of the old crowd we like Frank, Bart, Buck, Bruce, Elsie, Inza,
and Winnie. Of the new trowd Dick, Brad, Chester, and Dale,
Doris, June, Madge, Mabel, and Agatha, We like June fine, but
think Doris is the girl for Dick. We think Brad is a fine char-
acter, and that ,;Mabel. is the girl for him. We have started
several of our friends to reading “Tip Top.” Will you please
send catalogues? Will close, hoping to see this in print soon,
wishing good luck to “Tip Top” and Burt L. Standish. ;

Little Rock, Ark. A Girt ann Boy “Tre Topper.”

We aré sending you the catalogues as requested in postscript.
You will*find wonderfully good reading for Young America be-

tween those covers. Thank you for doing missionary work for
“Tip Top.” ,

 

‘I wonder if this will miss the waste-basket? I hope so. I
have been a reader of the “Tip Top” for about a month, They
are a relief and medicine for gloominess. Lots of times when
T have to stay in the store I will purchase a “Tip Top” and
“Lo and behold,” as’ Blessed says, I am happy.

I like Dick best. Then comes Frank. If it wasn’t for Dick
and Frank, Young Joe Crowfoot would be best. ‘When is Ches-
ter Arlington going to start to Yale? I think I have taken
enough space, so I will quit. Yours, AN OREGON FRIEND.

St. Johns, Ore.

And the more you read of them the better you will like them.
“Tip Top” has’ a mission beyond mere amusement, and tens of
thousands of young Americans afe ready to tell you that it
teachings have given them a higher aim in life. ;

 

As a member $f the Owl Club I would like to tell you the
feeling we have toward the “Tip Top.” We like Dick and
Brad best, of course; then come the rest of the flock. We would
like to hear more of Mike Lynch, Mabel Ditson, and Barbara.
“Tip Top’ has been voted the best weekly of all by this club.
We are trying to get the Owl Club on the Roll of Honor, by
each member working hard to get readers. We have twelye
members and have influenced many boys to read “Tip Top.” ‘I

remain, V.
Des Moines, Ia. Owl Club.
All of which “Tip Top” appreciates very much. There is

little doubt about your reaching your goal soon. When you

write again tell us more particulars.

(A letter. from Connecticut.)

As we, the members of the “Tip Wop” Club, have spent many
pleasant evenings reading the “Tip Top Weekly,” which we can

 
 

30 thie, LO.

truthfully say is the king of all weeklies, we will write this brief
letter of Applause. ‘This club started two years ago with the
five members who are now the officers, and have been since its
organization. Its purpose was to get as many young men as
we could to read the “Tip Top Weekly.” We now have twenty-
seven members in the club—sixteen of them having never read
a “Tip Top” until we got them in the club, and we are going
to try and increase our club to fifty members. As we have
seen very few letters in the Applause column from dear old Con-
necticut, we voted unanimously to send a letter to the column.
Hoping to see this in print, and wishing long life to all the char-
acters in “Tip Top,’ to Burt L. Standish, and Street & Smith,
we remain,

Tuos, P. Conzoy, President,

ERNEST RowLanp, Vice President,

Joun Rowe, Secretary,

Joun Kexvy, Treasurer,

Davin Parkuurst, Librarian.

And the only response we can make, boys, is to place your
names among the elect.

 

I have not seen anything in the Applause from this place, so
I am writing to you to tell you that we enjoy “Tip Top” here
as the boys do elsewhere. We have a club which takes the “Tip
Top” every week. I hope this piece I send will escape the waste-

paper basket.
A TOAST.

Here’s to Frank, so true,

And ‘here’s to Inza, too;

Here’s to Danny and Bink,

And Bruce, too lazy to think;

Here’s to Bart, Frank’s bosom chum,

The boy who was always*so glum;

Here’s to Wiley, who took the pie,

When it came to telling a lie;

Here’s to old Harry Rattleton,

And Jack, always Ready for fun;

Here’s to Hans, Ephraim, Mulloy,

And Stretcher, who was a Merry boy;

Here’s to Jack Diamond, another good friend,

Upon whom Frank could always depend;

Here’s to Joe Gamp and Dick Starbright,

Who were always the truest of blue; .

Here’s to Buck Badger, who never did flinch

And could be depended upon in a pinch;

Here’s to Burt L., may he ever portray

The ideal American youth of to-day.
Yours truly,

too,
4

TOBADIAH.
Wichita, Kans.
The sentiment at least does our young friend credit, however
faulty the meter. “Tip Top” reciprocates the toast and wishes
him all the good things he deserves.

 

I hope you won’t shut me out of the Applause column of your
splendid “Tip Top Weekly,” because I have only been a reader
a few months. During that time, though, I have read about
three hundred and fifty copies, and a few of the Medal books.
I am one of Burt L. Standish’s most ardent .admirers. How
I would like to know him! A man who can hold hundreds
of readers bound to his stories week after week, with hardly
any other thing but character portraits, pictured so strongly
that one first admires, then loves and follows through their
good times and dangers in the greatest suspenSe possible, must
be a gfeat character himself. I have always been a book-
worm, but until lately had been unduly prejudiced against five
or ten-cent literature. I lectured my boy friends unmercifully
and now I:am good-humoredly enduring the laugh from them.
I thought I had a high ideal as to what a boy ought to be.
My friends had almost persuaded me that it was too high, but
after reading “Tip Top” a while it has risen to still greater
heights. For, if a master mifd like Mr. Standish can imagine
so great a character, it is not too much Yor girls to ask their
friends to imitate the moral, if they can’t come up with the
physical perfection, as shown by him. We girls, too, would do
well to follow the example set by Elsie, Inza, and June.

I don’t know how to express just what I think of the differ-
ent persons. My list of complimentary agjectives is too small. I
believe I like Dick and his friends bétter\ than) Frank, but I
admire one jtist as much as " other. T think it might be said
of Frank that “The elements $0 mixed in him, that natiire might

Jt ’

ct yf vee. * +
ny lite wy tk jth 5 fee oe.
eRe WEEMS SAR ES so tag

ae tom, Soe eeepc, ear on att it wah ne Oe

WEEKLY.

stand up to all the ‘world, this is a man.?. For Dick’s splendid
character, his training must be given credit,/Frank and Old
Joe Crowfoot dividing honors. Next to Dick is Brad, and I
may say I love him just as well. I am sure Dick would wish
me, too. He has been his most loyal friend since Dick entered
Fardale, and after taking his part by “only hitting the onery
coyote because he didn’t have the necessary shooting irons to
kill him with,’ when one of his enemies hurt him in a football-
game until now, in his triumphant career at Yale. For the
rest of his friends, they are all favorites. I can’t have very
much use for Arlington, and no more for Ditson. I agree with
Brad; they are “onery coyotes.” Dick’s girl friends are fine.
I like Doris better than June, but I wanted Hal Darrel to have
her, as Dick and June suit nicely. I can hardly forgive June
for getting Dick in so many scrapes on Chester’s account, but,
of course, it was natural that she should love her brother. I
think “Brad and Mabel make a fine couple, but I have always
Idhged for Brad and Felicia to be sweethearts. Felicia was so
little and delicate and Brad so able to take care of her. I hope
she has not dropped. out of the. stories entirely. I like 568,
“Dick Merriwell’s Regret,” where Brad made Mabel’s acquaint-
ance, and “Dick Merriwell’s Arm,” because they show up Brad
as such a perfect gentleman. After reading either or both of
them I don’t see how any one can say Brad is no good. I
won't even agree that he is a rough diamond. Nothing but
that gem and “of purest ray serene’ can be compared to his
character. I am sure that we all miss the rest
friends. Ready and Hans weré favorites, of course Bart, then
Browning ranks first, and we are glad we hear of them’ with
Frank. I don’t think they are quite so interesting since Bart
and Frank have married. I always liked Elsie better than Inza,
but they were coupled off just exactly right.

I hardly dare hope to ever see’ this letter in print, and am
almost ashamed to send it after reading so many splendid let-
ters in both prose and poetry. It seems presumptuous, but I so
wanted to express my opinion on the best of all weeklies. I
have always been proud of being a Kentuckian, but I believe
Texas is a favored State if there are many there like my hero,
Brad. If it is worthy, this will be published with best regards
to readers, author, and publishers from

Madisonville, Ky. A Kentucky Bookworm.

“Tip Top” returns the good wishes of this fair young Ken-

tucky maid.
as well as this correspondent, since it is the scene of his na-

tivity.

 

(A letter from Georgia.)

I have been a reader of “Tip Top” about seven months. I
think it is the best of weeklies. This is my first letter, and I
hope to see it in print. I like Dick and Frank best of all, and
Bart and Bruce and Brad Buckhart; then all the rest of Frank’s
and Dick’s friends.. Say, when is Young Joe Crowfdéot going
to Yale, and when are we going to hear some more of little
Frank? Have just read “Dick Merriwell Held Back.” What
is the number of “Tip Top” that Frank Merriwell was married
in? Will you tell mé-how I can get No. 100 “Tip Top”; is it
in the Medal Library; if it is, what number is it? I would like
to have all of your five and ten-cent weeklies. Hoping to hear
from you soon, I remain, a true “Tip Topper,” Crcm Bonp,

You will hear from Young Joe Crowfoot in due time, also
Frank, Jr. The number in which Frank’s marriage occurs is
481, entitled “Framk Merriwell’s Great’ Day.” No. 100 is long
since out of print, but you will find ‘it embodied in No. 262
of the Medal Library.

 

, (A letter from South Dakota.)

This is my second letter to*the Applause, and I was glad to
see that my first one missed’ the waste-basket. I have gotten
four: boys to read “Tip Top,’ and they think it is fine. My
first “Tip Top” was where Dale came to Frank’s school.

My favorites are Dick and Frank, then comes Dale, Brad, and
Bart. Hoping to see this letter in print, I remain, a true “Tip
Topper,” —- : Witure Buck.

Don’t stop at four, Willie. Sow thg good seed right and left.
The harvest is great and the Labeieena ate You must feel that
in influencing boys to read “Tip Top” you are doing them the
greatest possible favor. 3

° \,

RN : Fee

of Frank’s™

The “blue grass State” has charms for the editor

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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inches, and ‘I weigh~148 pounds.
At hormal, 33 inches; expanded, 36 inches; biceps, ne 13 inches;

 

QUESTIONS

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

NOTICE—So many inquiries reach us each week concerning the
various manuals on athletic development, which we publish, that we
have decided to keep a list of them at the head of this department.
Any number can be had by mail by remitting 10 cents, and 3 cents
postage, for each copy, to the publishers.

FRANK MERRIWELL’S BOOK OF PHYSICAL DEVELOPMENT.

THE ART OF BOXING AND SELF-DEFENSE, by Prof. Donavan. |
revised by Prof, Donavan.

U. S. ARMY PHYSICAL EXERCISES,

PHYSICAL HEALTH CULTURE, = - by Prof. Fourmen,

 

 

Pror. FourMEN: I have been a constant reader of the “Tip
Top Weekly” for a long time. I would like to have your opin-
ion of my measurements. Height, 5. feet. 7 inches; wrists, 7
inches; forearm, 10% inches; neck, 15 inches; chest, 36 inches ;
expanded, 38 inches; reach, 72% inches; weight, 133 pounds;
age, 19 years. Do you think I am built for a boxer. ' Yours

truly, : PERSISTENCE.
Toledo, Ohio.

Weight and chest measurement both splendid. I think that
with training you should make a boxer, provided you have good
wind, agility, dogged perseverance, a hard punch, and can take
punishment, as all these things enter into the game largely.

 

Pror. FourMEN: Being a reader of “Tip Top” for a long
while, and reading your advice in them, 1 will take the liberty
to have you criticize my measurements: They are: Height, 5
feet 3% inches; chest, 31 inches; expanded, 32 inches; waist, 28
inches; biceps, 9% inches ; thighs, 16% inches; calves, IY
inches; wrist, 614 inches; ankles, 9% inches; forearm, 9 inches}
weight, 115 ‘pounds. Do not exercise much. What are my
weak points? How can I develop them? ‘I do not drink liquor,
or smoke since reading your hints. I go to bed at:10 P. M. and
risé. at 6:30 A. M. I drink cocoa with all my meals, I eat many
apples and other fruit: Is that healthy? I play basket-ball
almost every night in a gym and sweat a good deal, yet. I do not
lose weight. Why is this? I can lift a 50-pound dumb- bell over
is this good? I can walk 4% miles
in an hour. I have followed your advice to breathe deep, but
‘my chest expansion is very poor. I’ shall continue to practise.
Hoping I did not take too much room, and wishing long life to
“Tip Top,” you—Prof. Fourmen—Street & Smith, and all “Tip
Top” admirers, I remain, an American boy, Frank R.

New York City.

Your ¢hest, Frank, might measure a couple of: inches more.
Yes, ripe fruit is splendid, if it agrees with you. Cocoa is also
good, being a food and. fat producer, if pure. You do not losé
weight because you are taking it on all the while through good
If, you did ‘not exercise as you do, you would grow

Stouter. Do more work and reduce your weight 5 pounds or. so.

You can stand it. / ;

 

Pror. FourMEN: I am 18 years old, my height is 5 feet 7

My measurements ‘are: Chest,

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PROF, FOURM EN |

 

 

 

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waist, 30 inches; hips, 37 inches;
890 pounds: on the lifting-machine;
length, and put a 50-pound sack of flour above my head 16 times.

I can lift
hold 30 pounds at .arm’s

thighs, 21 inches.

How is my height and weight in proportion to my age? How
are my measurements? How do my records compare with those
of other. boys of my height and weight? I am, yours truly,

Berea, Ohio. oN,

You weigh some 18 pounds more than the average, but your
chest is not so good in comparison, as an athlete of your height
would measure 36 inches.” You are certainly a strong lad, and
can excel most young chaps, even with a handicap.

 

Pror. FourMEN: . Having read your replies to. boys in the
most interesting weekly published, I will try and ask you a few
questions, and give my measurements for you to criticize. My
measurements are: Neck, 14 inches; forearm, to inches; biceps,
11 inches; wrist, 7 inches; chest, normal, 35 inches; expanded, 38
inches; waist, 29 inches; thighs, 20 inches; calves, 14 inches;
weight, 140 pounds; height, 5 feet 7 inches; age, 17 years. How
are my measurements? Are they up to the average? How does
coffee affect a pérson? I play football and baseball, but the
former is my favorite. Give my respects to Burt L. and oblige,

Mt. Vernon, Ohio. DiS.

Measurements fully up to the average. Coffee is a stimulant,
accelerating the action of the heart, and frequently deranging
the digestive organs unless taken black and clear after a dinner,
when a small ‘amount really aids digestion.

 

(A letter from Michigan.)

Pror. FourMEN: Being a constant reader of “Tip Top” for
nearly three years, I take the liberty to ask you a few ques-
tions. How are my measurements? I am 16 years old to the
day; height, 5 feet 714 inches; weight, 135 pounds; chest, nor-
mal, 34 inches; expanded, 39 inches; neck, 15 inches; biceps, 11
inches; forearm, 12 inches; wrist, 6 inches; waist, 29 inches;
thigh, 19 inches; calf, 13 inches; ankle, 8 inches; use tobacco
mild: What are my weak points? I take part in all the athletic
sports here, I remain, yours, WALLACE BOULANGER.

Measurements are very good, and so near the perfect score
that you are to be congratulated.

 

Pror. Fourmen: I am 13 years old. I am behind in measure-
ments and weight, and take the liberty to ask you what to do
to improve myself. I was taken away from school, and would
like to give. my time to physical culture. Would cold baths
after exercising in the morning be beneficial to me? W, G. K,

Philadelphia, Pa.

Get one of our manuals at once, and lay out a wise course of
daily, exercise, which do not tnake too irksome; and be sure you
stick to it faithfully for some months. When you compare your.
measurements then with what they are now, and note how firm |
your flesh has become, you will rejoice over the inspiration that
caused you. to ask advice. A sound mind in a sound ° body |
forms a combination difficult to beat. .

eine

 

 
    
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
  
  
   
  
   
   
   
  
    
   
    
  
    
       
  
 

THE TIP TOP WEEKLY

 

 

ISSUED EVERY FRIDAY

HANDSOME -COLORED COVERS

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

ing in this weekly.

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

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

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

Tip

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

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

 

 

HERE ARE THE

587—Dick Merriwell, Lion-Tamer; or, Ate, Queen of
the Air.

588—Dick Merriwell’s Camp-site; or, The Peril at Pine
Point.

589—Dick Merriwell’s Debt; or, Settling the Score With
Smoketown.

590—Dick Merriwell’s Camp-mates; or, Old Chums On
the Field.
S91—Dick Merriwell’s Draw;
Smoketown.
592—Dick Merriwell’s Disapproval; or, Chester Arling-
ton’s New Chum.

593—Dick Merriwell’s Mastery; or, The Wolves of
Wolfwoods.

594—Dick Merriwell’s Warm Work; or, A Hot Day for
Smoketown.

595—Dick Merriwell’s “Double Squeeze”; or, Brian

| Blackpool in Command.

596—Dick ‘Merriwell’s Vanishing; or, Young Joe Crow-
foot on the Trail.

597—Dick Merriwell Adrift; or, In the Grip of the Sea.

598—Dick Merriwell’s Influence ; or, Reaping the
Harvest. :

s99—Frank Merriwell’s Worst Boy; or, Ralph Sand, the
Reckless.

600—Frank Merriwell’s Annoyance; or, Reckless Ralph,
the Runaway.

601—Frank Merriwell’s Restraint; or, The Revenge of
a Redskin.

602—Dick Merriwwell Held Back; or, Secret Enemies at
Work.

or, The Struggle With

610—Dick Merriwell’s Belief;

 

LATEST TITLES:

603—Dick Merriwell in the Line; or, Given a Show at
Laat

604—Dick Merriwell’s Drop Kick; or, Winning on a
Last Resort.

605+-Frank Merriwell’s Air Voyage; or, The Wreck of
the “California Arrow.”

606—Frank Merriwell’s Auto Chase;
Deer of Dead River.

607—Frank Merriwell’s Capture; or, The End of the
Chase.

608—Dick Merriwell’s Value; or, The Game that Set-
tled the Question.

609—Dick Merriwell Doped; or, The Mystery of the
Black Star.

or, The. White

or, Chester Arlington.
Meshed.

611—Frank Merriwell in the Market; or, The Wolves of
Wall: Streets

612—Frank Merriwell’s Fight for Fortune; or, Putting’
the Wolves to Rout.

613—Frank Merriwell on Top; or, Potting the Last of
the Pack.

614—Dick Merriwell’s Trip West; or, Brother Back-

. ing Brother.

61s—Dick Merriwell’s Predicament; or, Frank Merri-
well, Facing His Foes.

616—Dick Merriwell in’ Mystery Valley; or, Buried
Alive in Bulldog Tunnel.

617—Frank Merriwell’s Proposition; or, Captain Bald-
win’s Secret» Work.

_ Tf you want any back numbers of our libraries and cannot procure them from your news-

eaters they can be obtained from this office, direct.

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

Postage stamps taken the sate as money.

  
 

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HOW TO SECURE THE EARLY NUMBERS OF

TIP TOP WEEKLY

 

To the boys who take interest in the adventures of Frank Merriwell and want to read every-
thing that was-written about him, we desire to say that numbers 1 to 350 of the ‘Tip Top WEEKLY
containing his early adventures are entirely out of stock and will not be reprinted. ‘These num-
bers, 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 published 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 1c. stamp to cover postage.

 

 

 

MEDAL LIBRARY AT 10c.

150—Frank Merriwell’s School-days.
167—Frank Merriwell’s Chums.

178—Frank
184—F rank
189—F rank
193—F rank
197—F rank
201—F rank
205—F rank
209—F rank
213—Frank
217—Frank
225—Frank
229—F rank
233—F rank
237—Frank
240—F rank
244—F rank
247—F rank
251—Frank
254—Frank
258—Frank
262—Frank
267—F rank
271—Frank
276—F rank
280—Frank
284—F rank
288—F rank
292—Frank
296— Frank
300—F rank
304—F rank
308—Frank
312—Frank
316—Frank
320—Frank
324—F rank
328—Frank
332—Frank
336—Frank
340—Frank
344—Frank
348—Frank
352—Frank
356—Frank
359—F rank

Merriwell’s
Merriwell’s

Foes.
Trip West.

Merriwell Down South.

Merriwell’s
Merriwell’s

Bravery.
Hunting Tour.

Merriwell in Europe.
Merriwell at Yale.

Merriwell’s
Merriwell’s
Merriwell’s
Merriwell’s
Merriwell’s
Merriwell’s
Merriwell’s
Merriwell’s
Merriwell’s
Merriwell’s
Merriwell’s
Merriwell’s

Sports Afield.
Races.
Bicycle Tour,
Courage.
Daring.
Athletes.
Skill.
Champions.
Return to Yale,
Secret.
Danger.
Loyalty.

Merriwell in Camp.

Merriwell’s
Merriwell’s
Merriwell’s

Vacation.
Cruise.
Chase.

Merriwell in Maine.

Merriwell’s
Merriwell’s
Merriwell’s
Merriwell’s
Merriwell’s

Struggle.
First Job.
Opportunity.
Hard Luck.
Protégé.

Merriwell on the Road.

Merriwell’s
Merriwell’s
Merriwell’s
Merriwell’s
Merriwell’s
Merriwell’s
Merriwell’s
Merriwell’s
Merriwell’s

Own Company.
Fame.

College Chums,
Problem.
Fortune.

New Comedian.
Prosperity.
Stage Hit.
Great Scheme.

Merriwell in England.
Merriwell on the Boulevards.

Merriwell’s
Merriwell’s
Merriwell’s
Merriwell’s

Duel.
Double Shot.

Baseball Victories.

Confidence.

 

 

MEDAL LIBRARY AT 10c.

362—Frank
365—Frank
368—Frank
371—F rank
374—Frank
377—Frank

Merriwell’s Auto.
Merriwell’s Fun.
Merriwell’s Generosity.
Merriwell’s Tricks.
Merriwell’s Temptation.
Merriwell on Top.

NEW MEDAL LIBRARY at 15c. Increased Size

380—F rank
383—F rank
386—Frank
389—F rank
392—F rank
395—F rank
398—F rank
401—Frank
404—F rank
407—Frank
410—Frank
413—Frank
416—Frank
419—F rank
422—Frank
425—Frank
428—Frank
431—Frank
434—Frank
437—Frank

Merriwell’s Luck.
Merriwell’s Mascot.
Merriwell’s Reward.
Merriwell’s Phantom.
Merriwell’s Faith.
Merriwell’s Victories.
Merriwell’s Iron Nerve.
Merriwell in Kentucky.
Merriwell’s Power.
Merriwell’s Shrewdness.
Merriwell’s Set-back.
Merriwell’s Search.
Merriwell’s Club.
Merriwell’s Trust.
Merriwell’s False Friend.
Merriwell’s Strong Arm.
Merriwell as Coach.
Merriwell’s Brother.
Merriwell’s Marvel.
Merriwell’s Support.

440—Dick Merriwell at Fardale.
443—Dick Merriwell’s Glory.
Published About January 13th
446—Dick Merriwell’s Promise.
Published About February 3rd
449—Dick Merriwell’s Rescue.
Published About February 24th
452—Dick Merriwell’s Narrow Escape.
Published About March 17th
455—Dick Merriwell’s Racket.

Published About April 7th

458—Dick Merriwell’s Revenge.

Published About April 28th

461—Dick Merriwell’s Ruse.

Published About May 19th

464—Dick Merriwell’s Delivery.

Published About June 9th

467—Dick Merriwell’s Wonders.

470—Frank

Published About June 30th

Merriwell’s Honor.

 

 

 

STREET & SMITH

PUBLISHERS

: NEW YORK