MERRIWELL'S RANCH FRI ENDS | No. 697 | I we ee , Swing G*hG loo Heeger tered Spy ge oe a Se 7 i MIT a > ee An ideal ul ication | Issued Weekly. By subscription $2.50 per year, i # No. 697. NEW YORK, Dick ‘Merriwell’s Ranch Friends; | SPORT ON THE RANGE. CHAPTER I. . HOW IT HAPPENED. The Bar Z ranch presented an amazingly lively spec- tacle. 3 At first glance one might have fancied the round-up was on; but this was not the proper season for such an ° event, and there was a certain air of gayety and free- dom from care about the cowpunchers who: had gath- ered there from surrounding ranches which seemed to indicate that this was a time of festivity. Further- more, in a group gathered near the cool, whitewashed 'dabe ranch house there-were a number of: ladies, /and - two or three more of the same séx could be seen, mounted on ponies, riding up from the direction of the Big Basin, the Bar Z’s immense artificial water reser- voir, that had been formed by throwing a dam across the narrow outlet of a’yalley through, which flowed ‘a spring-fed streamj the waters of which sank and ) were lost beneath the sands three or four miles further _ ~ from all directions, headed for the reservoir. on to the southeast. -\ In former days before the building of this reservoir, , . although the springs never ran wholly dry, there were periods in the dry seasons when the water supply was Entered as Second-class Matter at the N. Y. Post Office, by STREET & SMITH, 19-89 Seventh Ave., N. ¥; Copyright, 1909, dy STREET & SMITH. By BURT L. STANDISH. August 21, 1909. Price Five Cents. pitifully inadequate to take care of the great herds. In those times, when it grew very dry indeed, and the outlying water holes for miles. around became mere mud sloughs or dried up entirely, hundreds of cattle | sometimes came in and stood around the diminished — springs, fighting and crowding to reach the, muddy . water, many of the weaker ones being kept away until | ~ they sank and perished within view of their owner. Now, however, by his foresight in forestalling against these droughts, “Old Man” Buckhart, as he | was universally called, had the satisfaction of knowing — there was no reason for losing a single steer or cow that had strength enough to get in to the reservoir to drink at regular intervals. , ol Of course the range in the immediate vicinity of the ranch, with the exception of a section fenced off with barbed wire and reserved for the horses, was so thor- oughly grazed over that it became necessary for the ‘herds to go far in search of feed. Each night, near sundown, the cattle might be seen coming on a run Having quenched their thirst, the animals would stiles turn about and set off again at a dead run, | While Old Man Buckhart had made on money TIP TOP mainly in the ¢attle business, he did not spend as much -, time as formerly upon the ranch. Affairs at the Bar Z were left in chatge of Mr. Edward J. Smith, known as “Cyclone,” a thoroughly competent and honest fore- man, quiet and slow-spoken, rough in outwatd appear- ance, but really a polished gentleman and a Yale grad- uate. Trusting Smith thoroughly, Mr. Buckhart could give more of his attention to the banking business in San Antonio and to his real estaté projects and schemes in Houston. He had been away upon a business trip at the time of Brad’s arrival at the Bar Z, accompanied by Dick Merriwell. In San Antonio Old Mari Buckhart had met one of his nearest neighbors, Thack Bunker, proprietor of the Twin Star Ranch, and this gathering at the Bar Z of people from the Twin Star, the Circle Cross and the Dipper was the outcome of that meeting. Just now sh Cross, and Spot Johnson, of the Dipper. . The trio __ were sitting close to the shady side of the ranch house. “You see, gentlemen, Bunker and I got to talking ) baseball, a right queer subject for us, perhaps. I don’t know just how it came up, but I was telling about my boy Brad’s success in getting onto the Yale ’varsity Bs | nine, as catcher, and how he was home, along’ with - We'd hadja couple or so, and maybe I got to bragging va little. ‘You know how such things come around, and really, though I don’t intend to let him know it, I’m mighty proud of that boy of mine. He’s stuffy and _ obstinate as the devil, but when he makes up his mind to doa thing heusually gets there with both feet. : obstinate person who fizzles in his undertakings is no - good; but one who succeeds can be toler ated, and may - even be admired.” | . - “The boy sartain comes by it natteral enough, Buck: | “He takes it direct from his paw. If ever thar was an _ obstinate man, it’s you. | Why, I ‘remember when you + get a hand- to-mouth ite on. Natody had ever of it, builds yottr reservoir, opens ie: SKitHD wherever . you a plenty twenty-five years ago. * the Twin Star. It was your example that brought i in other. gents hereabouts to follow cattle raising in a. try that ae was aoe oa fit for ey and _ Buckhart was explaining to Seth Egleston, of the Circle » young Merriwell, his chum, who is Yale’s star pitcher. An hart,” grinned Spot Johnson, sucking at his old pipe. . é took this yere Bar Z Ranch, which was then reckoned a mighty | undesirable property, only fit for a lazy greaser you can find "em, introduces new methods in the cattle | business, and leaves some of us in the lurch who laughs | It was your example: that encouraged me to follow suit and locate ‘hard picking up their feed in competition with other WEEKLY, Injuns. for they strikes onto your range almost immejiate they comes over the river. You've got hit wuss’n anybody by the rustlers, Yet you makes it so warm and interesting for them that now we all gets along fairly comfortable, only being bothered by the varmitits now and then. It was your obstinacy that won out; Buck-. hart. Yes, the boy sartain takes it natteral from his paw. Egleston, sometimes called Silent Steve, simply gtinned a bit and nodded, _“T reckort that’s why I’m inclined to be some tolerant with him,” said the owner of the Bar Z. “I wanted him to,take a course at Harvard, but he set up an oppo- sition and proclaimed that it was Yale or nothing for him. That made me warm, and I proceeded to inform him that it would be Harvard or nothing. To cure him, I sent him out on patrol duty, and you all know what a lonesome, soul-withering job that is. I judged it would cure him inia hurry, but to my surprise he stuck to it and Seemed to enjoy it. At intervals I inquired if he was ready to pull his picket pin and strike the trail for Cambridge, Massachusetts, but invariably he replied that! he preferred to continue grazing on the home range. All this made me madder and madder; but finally, when he got mixed up in that rustler business and the whelps held him for ransom, threatening to chop off his fingers at intervals and express them to me, ° I grew regretful that I’d been so insistent. Getting him off safe and sound with all his fingers intact, I became > so jubilant that, under stress of emotion, I yielded and permitted him to pike out for New Haven instead of Cambridge. “Well, gentlemen, as near as I can judge, the boy is doing pretty well there. He’s no brilliant wonder in his studies, but his rank sheets show that he’s due to get by. and come off with his sheepskin unless he has a severe relapse in the future. That’s satisfactory to me, for, considering my own backwardness and the way I had to plug and grind in order to pull through, I’m not looking for Brad-to stand at the head of his class, I don’t expect him to ee the valedictory.” “T’ve observed some,” said Johnson, * ‘that a whole lot ‘of these yere brilliant geniuses at college pans out. sec- ond or third-raters when they break loose from the high culture and education. corral and takes to roaming the ti _ range with the rest of the big herds. Mebbe they has sense enough as stable critters, but they find it right — cattle when they have to hustle for themselves. ce I ee had a son, I’d be some reluctant: to have him wear the Di Tif. Te brand of any one of those education factories. I cal’- late them places spoil as many youngsters as they help.” “It depends on the man, Spot,” declared Buckhart. “You can’t make a fast-stepper out of a dray horse. I’m willing to admit that a college education. doesn’t do much of any good for a fool. It’s liable to fill his head with a heap of false notions. It’s liable’to make him think he’s too good to travel in the same class and do the.same sort of work as some other men who haven't had his advantages. He may sit back and wait for the world to recognize his wonderful talents and abilities, in which case he will fare tough on the range in bad weather. He will see men who never had any advantages in particular, but who have plenty of hustle and pluck, getting a start on him and leaving him in | the lurch, which will be liable to sour him considerable and make him turn pessimist. Of all pitiful fools the youthful pessimist is the most to be pitietl.” “That thar word ‘pessimist’ sounds good to me,” nodded Johnson; “but sometimes when I listens to you I long for a dictionary handy and convenient. But go on and tell us how it was you got into this little engage- ment with Bunker.” “As I was remarking, we met up down in San An- tone, and we got to talking baseball. I spoke about my boy, and the fact that he was at the Bar Z, along with Merriwell, the great Yale pitcher. Then Bunker he observes that the Twin Star can get together a baseball team able to wipe up the earth with anything we’ve got on the Bar Z? That disturbed me some, and I -came back with a statement of doubts. I remarked that, having my boy and Merriwell for a battery, I reckoned we could collect a nine that would trim the Twin Star to a whisper. Our conversation became somewhat heated. Bunker informed me that he had a, pitcher among his men who was better than Merriwell or any other college twirler in the country. I presume I laughed at him some irritating, for he rose up and offered to make a little wager. He agreed that we might use Merriwell and my boy as battery, while he would make up his team from the mén on his ranch, getting a professional catcher to hold Colt, the pitcher he boasted about. You see, that would give each team. one outside member—one man besides the regulars who rightfully belong on the Bar Z and the Twin Star. I agreed to that prompt enough, and we put up a thou- sand dollars each to back our teams. Joe Stetson, of San Antone, was chosen stakeholder, and he came along with ‘me to witness the game. ,We sent out invitations - which brought these people here, and this afternoon the - Bar Z and thé Circle Star will have it out toa finish.” ai tig WEEKLY. 3 “Waal, Buckhart,” drawled Johnson, knocking the ‘ashes from his pipe by rapping the bowl against his boot heel, “don’t you go for to get the notion that you're going to have a walkover with that bunch, for you'll be monstrous deceived. Thack Bunker knows baseball pretty well, for he was one time interested financially in the Southern League. I hears that he drops a comfortable rojl at it.” “Which appears to indicate that his judgment wasn't, any too good, after all; Spot,” said the owner of the Bar Z. “J’m not worrying any. No matter who wins out, I hope the game will be warm enough to.provide amusement for the spectators.” CHAPTER IL. GOOD WORK. Two girls on horseback, both riding with the grace and ease of perfect horsewomen, approached the ranch house. “My daughter and her friend,” said Spot Johnson, — putting up his pipe. “That thar gal of mine would travel no end of distance to see a real baseball game. Since she went East to boarding school she’s got the baseball bug the wust way. She takes all the papers — and reads nothing but the baseball games. She knows — " more’ about Chtisty Matthewson, Hans Wagner, Na- poleon Lajoie, and the rest of their bunch than she will ever know in a thousand years about the famous figger- heads of history, like George Washington, “ees Bonaparte, and Anthony Comstock.” “Who is your daughter’s friend, Johnson ?” inquired Buckhart. “She has a somewhat unusual habit in these parts. She’s worn a heavy veil ever since arriving here at the Bar Z.” Za “Sh!” breathed the owner of the Dipper. “Don't embarrass her by speaking about it in her presence. — You see she’s a mighty fine little gal, but she’s met with a misfortune—she’ s met with a misfortune.” He repeated those final words in a solemnly signifi : cant manner, which somehow seemed to suggest that — Stella Johnson’s friend and \ companion, a petite, grace- ful little creature, was hiding by means of the veil a physical disfigurement of some sort. “Oh!” grunted Old Man Buckhart, “excuse me.” “You’re sartain excusable,” said Johnson, rising as. the two gitls approached and drew rein. ‘Stella Johnson was a tall, slender blonde with Se blue eyes and a somewhat sallow complexion. She had 4 TIP TOP _ fine teeth, and lost few opportunities of showing them in a pleasant smile. The Johnsons, together with others from the Dipper, arriving late the previous night, Mr. Buckhart had not yet met Spot’s daughter. He now rose and was intro- duced by Johnson to the tall blonde and her somewhat mysterious veiled: friend, Sefiorita Pepita. The little girl bowed her head and murmured a greeting in Span- ish as the rancher, wide brimmed hat in hand, saluted her courteously. The veil was indeed so baft ling that scarcely any idea of Pepita’s looks could be obtained; but, judging by her voice, she should have been at- tractive. Mr. Buckhart was chatting with the girls when a ‘tall, bronzed, clean-cut youth in woollens, chaps, som- brero, and spurred boots came out of the house. Ina second Stella’s eyes measured him up, and she spoke to ‘the rancher in a low tone. z “Isn’t that your son’s chum, Dick Merriwell?’ she asked. “I’m sure it is, for I saw him pitch against ' Harvard once. Of course he looks differently in this - outfit, but it must be Merriwell.”’ . “Sure,” nodded the owner of the Bar Z. “Would you ike. meet him? Oh, Dick, I say, just a word with you.” Merriwell approached at once. | EY “Let me introduce Miss Johnson, Merriwell. is Miss Johnson’s friend, Sefiorita Pepita.” _Dick’s hat was in his hand, and he would have ac- - knowledged the presentation with a teep bow; but Stella Johnson put out her gauntlet-gloved right in an almost mannish manner, saying enthusiastically : ‘Yale, away out here in Texas, I amdelighted.” Of course Dick protested that the pleasure was his sad shook hands with her. Then, noticing that Pepita ‘was inclined to follow Stella Johnson’s example, he shook hands’ with her likewise, and was somewhat amazed to receive on oe feingrepiis pres- ‘ ai her voice before, : _ Stella ne could ‘talk clog and rosin This “Tts just jolly to meet the famous Dick Merriwell of this anee -. but WEEKLY couldn’t quite understand him, and he kept me guessing the most of the time.’ Dick laughed. “That’s Dale Sparkfair all right. He’s exceedingly irrelevant and volatile—sometimes annoyingly so. But he can pitch, and I think you do me too much honor in placing him second.” “Oh, no,” declared the girl, shaking her head. “I consider him a brilliant pitcher, but his volatile temper- ament, as you call it, is just the one thing which pre- vents him from being a perfect marvel. Even baseball he can’t take seriously.”’ “Some men take it too seriously.” | “That may be true, but when a man is fighting for the honor of his college he’s got to be serious. He's got to feel that every moment of the gathe counts for something, and any little carelessness or foolish frivolity on his part may bring defeat to his side. Sparkfair’s only failing is, that he can’t be really and truly serious for five consecutive minutes. Now, I’m sure you get as much sport out of life as he does, and I’m likewise sure that you know how to be serious as well as gay.” “There are times when a man has to be serious, whethen he would or not,” said Dick. “Still, I’m in- » clined to think that most persons take life far too seri- ously, which is quite as much a mistake as to take it too frivolously.” | “Tell me, do you really think you can win the game this afternoon ?”’ “Really, I can’t answer that question, Miss Johnson. All I know is that we’re going to do our level best to win. You see the Bar Z team has had little chance to practice together, although we've put in two days of work since Mr. Buckhart wired us about the game. We haven't got any really fast men, but all our players” know something about the game. Of course they are sadly in need of practice.” i “I'm afraid,” said the girl in a low, tone—“I’m , afraid the Twin Star will prove too much for you. Of course you and Mr. Buckhart can’t play the whole game alone. The best battery in the world can be defeated if | it isn’t given some sort of support. I’ve been told that — the Twin Star team has played several match games Of course, I’d like to see you win, “Don't wager any money on us, Miss Johnson,” | laughed Dick. “Do you know. anything oe Charlie Golt, the a - Twin Star pitcher?” raw Gis thle 4 | aA es {They say) he was a farvel two years ago.” Ae Ie “There have been.a great many marvels who wouldn’t appear such in these days. Why did he quit the game? Do you know, Miss Johnson?” “He had a brother who was killed in professional baseball, and I’ve heard he vowed he’d never play | another professional game. They have got Sukes Ham- mond for a catcher, too, and he’s one of the best in -” Texas. | battery. I met Colt a short time ago, and he told 'me the Twin Star would beat you to death.” Dick’s dark eyes flashed, although his mouth smiled. “T’ve known such cocksure men to meet with great disappointment,” he said.. “We certainly shall not let Tt them beat us to death if we can help it.’ ey “Well, you have my best wishes, Mr. Merriwell,” oh said Stella. “I don’t like Charlie Colt ahy too well. + > He's phelps conceited, and he’s bothered me more e:*" or less.” “You have my best wishes also, sefior,’ murmured | the hidden lips of Pepita. “Although I have never o | ‘a game of baseball, I have a feeling that you will win.’ i Stella laughed lightly at this. | ¢ . “My friends always have the good will and best ee wishes of Pepita,” she said. “Are you: going to ride, e _ Mr. Merriwell?” ( i “T am if I can find my saddle Bene though I’m halts © inclined to think Brad has the pony.” 7 Although Johnson suggested that the girls had bet- ter come in out of the hot sun and rest, they were dis- inclined and rode away once more. Dick found his pony; saddled up, flung a rope over the saddle horn and galloped*down to join a bunch of cowboys with whom he fancied he might find Brad. one of the group. i “So this is the great Dick Merriwell,” laughed Colt, with a mocking twinkle in his eye. “Glad to meet you, Merriwell. According to newspaper reports, ‘you're the real thing as a,college pitcher. ‘not to abuse you this afternoon.” “And that’s very kind,” returned Dick, suppressing id - any sign of irritation which the man’s mocking manner _. might have aroused. “Of course you intend to Pat it “all over us.’ “Oh, yes,.I don’t réckon we'll have much srotibhe about that. For plain cow punchers, I will say that we've got the greatest bunch 6f sluggers you ever faced, There’ s not a real weak hitting man on the team, al- though’ our greaser, Pablo, is the weakest, perhaps. I hope you chaps can stick it some, for it would spoil the ne fun to fan’ you eillady" Ries So you can see that you'll be up against a great) tracted and aroused by the scarlet, gold-braided jacket _ Young Buckhart was. not there, but Charlie Colt was We'll try, ) rope from the saddle horn, eee the noose en WEEKLY. . 5 Colt was conceited and irritating, and it was evident that he held college pitchers in light esteem. “You look rather like the real thing in your cowboy outfit, Merriwell,” he commented. “Ever on a ranch before ?” “Why,.yes,” returned the Yale man o first appearance.” “Why do you carry that rope? Just for show?’ “T notice that a great many of the men carry ropes. I presume ex come handy to tie things with.” “Oh, sure,” laughed Colt; “though if you’ve got one that’s been worked pliable for noosing, and it hap- pens to belong to a real puncher, he will cuss some if you cut it up to tie things. Of course you'll take your cowboy rig back to Yale and show it off to your friends.- If they happen to have any tableaus or enter- fers nbive you can dress up and make a hit posing in that rig.” “An excellent suggestion, Mr. Colt, mind.” 1g As he rode away, Dick heard the fellow aie ws softly behind his back. It was plain Colt took him for a thorough tenderfoot. this ‘is not my rll bear it in Miss Johnson and Pepita had ridden down toward - the reservoir, where a latge number of cattle ae a gathered. They gave no heed to the animals until ‘sud- denly a huge steer sprang out of the bunch and came charging toward them. The cteature had been at- worn by little Pepita. - “Look out!’ cried the blonde, reining her pony — round and starting off at a gallop. “Get away from — that creature, Pepita!” : iby Pek ue The sefiorita’s horse shied and snorted as the steer charged. A moment later the veiled girl reined the © animal round and rode away, but the steer turned) like a a flash and came on in pursuit. It was a long-legged, _ : raw-boned creature, swift of foot as most horses. a Looking over her shoulder, Stella Johnson cried in ; alarm. eas “Ride, Pepita—ride!” she called, Two men beheld the girl’s predicament,. compre: hended her danger, and came dashing toward her from opposite directions. One was a tall, raw-boned _cow- we: boy by the name of Bill Baws the other was “Dick Merriwell. s As he spurred his fibese. Seite Dick iaaadl on ke ae and beld it ee for use. 6 ; eae. ee saw what he was doing while spurring after him, and wondered what he expected to accomplish. Bill Horn yelled like an Indian as he swept down ; toward the pursuing’ steer. | Suddenly, as Dick Merriwell drew near, Pepita’s horse stepped into a hole &nd went down, flinging the girl over its head, Merriwell was swinging the loop of the lariat, clos- ing in on the steer within reasonable roping distance. Suddenly he made the cast, and the rope went writh- ing and squirming through the air like a long, slender snake, 7 The throw was perfect, for the loop dropped over the steer’s horns. | The pony bestrode by Dick set himself~for the shock, and the rope, made fast to the saddle horn, twanged like a bowstring. The steer was flung at full length upon its side with- in ten feet of the fallen girl, over whom it cast a shower of dirt. | - « At the same instant Bill Horn swept past, swinging _. far down from his saddle and reaching for Pepita’s sash with one big hand. His fingers caught Ey gripped that sash. The sash held, and the girl was . . snatched up, lifted, and hoisted lightly in front of Horn. Still, every witness knew Bill Horn would have ar- rived a second too late to save Pepita only for Dick Merriwell’s fine work with the rope. and CHAPTER III. bs ROPED. / “Luck!” cried Charlie Colt—“nothing ‘more. The boy couldn’t do it again in’a thousand times trying.” Yet Dick had snapped the noose free, from the horns of the steer and was coiling it as he rode away. The stunned and bewildered animal gathered itself up, shook the dust from its, red eyes, and turned back to- __ ward the herd, apparently thoroughly satisfied. _| Half the people gathered at the Bar Z had wit- “nested this affair, and many of them, like Colt, were _ disopsed to believe Dick Merriwell’s performance with the rope the result of good luck rather’ than especial skill, There were some, however, who knew better, and they were the men who had seen’ ‘Metriwell ride \Squinty’s man-killing cayuse some days before. Al- ready the boy from the East had made a number of , too. WEEKLY. watm friends and admirers among the Bar Z outfit. ¢ They had found him quiet, unpretentious, and not at all inclined to posing or boasting, all of which counted for a great deal with such men. . When he was sure the steer was no longer to be feared, Bill Horn drew rein and waited for the man who had caught Pepita’s pony to bring the animal up. { The pony was limping slightly, and every ‘one felt it . to be a marvel that the creature had. not broken a leg. “I begs your pardon for being some rough, seno- | rita,’ said Horn; “but under the circumstances I don't ‘low I had time to be gentle and polite. Howsomever, | I reckons you owes your personal safety to that kid Merriwell, not to me. He sure has got the goods, and he delivers ‘em when they’re required.” i “TI thank you, sefior,’’ breathed Pepita, making a sure that her veil had; not become detached. “It was f * very kind and very brave.” : “Not at all, not at all,” spluttered Bill. “It wasn’t nothing worth mentioning, nohow. I’m alwus ready 4 a the ladies, though they never takes to me a great deal. Mebbe that’s my fault, though, for up to date I ain’t never seen but one of your sex that upsets me complete and makes me She was jest about the cutest little bunch that ever batted a and willing to do my prettiest for willing to leave my happy home for her. black eye at a man and made his heart turn flipflaps. Her name was Anita, and her old man had the misfor- tune to be related brotherwise to Castro, the rustler, pee a which makes him think it healthy when the knowledge ' : becomes public’to take Anita and slip over in the direc- i tion of Mexico. I’ve been lonesome as a yaller dog f ever since, though I s’pose likely it was the best thing a that could happen tome. You see, Pm a sort of a has- been, or mebbe more correct, a neyer-was, and ’twa’n’t at all likely that a pretty little bunch like Anita would is get smit on a weather-scarred old two-legged critter 9 4) like me. Excuse me for imparting so much of my private and personal affairs, but somehow when you spoke so soft and musical a-thanking me for what I really didn’t do, you reminds me of Anita. Of course, that’s because you’re Mexican, and she was Mexican, 39 “But you're an American, sefior. Why should you care for a Mexican girl?” “Wow! little critters on the face of this yere globe. got eyes, and they sartain knows how to use etn. tk reckon mebbe it’s a good thing for the boys that you Say, they’re just about the most fetching They’ve wears a veil constant, for I opine you’ve got a pair of eyes also and likewise. ’Tain’t right to get us poor devils all stewed up and then leave us to mope and dream and neglect our regular occupations. If the women only realized how mortally they can upset us susceptible men, I’m afraid things would be a heap sight wuss than they are. Here comes your friend.” Miss Johnson rode up, slipped from her saddle, and clasped Pepita in her arms. “When I saw Are you “Oh, it was terrible!’ she exclaimed. : your horse fall, I thought you’d be killed. hurt, dear?” é “No, I think not, though I was stunned for a/mo- ment.” “Tt was Dick Merriwell who saved you from being killed.” “Sartain sure,” agreed Bill Horn generously. | \roped that thar steer clever and scientific.” “I’m still of the opinion,” said Colt, who had like- wise drawn near and stopped, “that Merriwell made a lucky throw. I don’t believe he could rope a standing cow.” “Waugh! exploded Bill Horn. “Mebbe he couldn't, but I holds different idees, my friend. I opines he could take you out of your saddle the first blame cast.” “T’'m willing to let him try it all day,” said Colt. “T’'ll give him ten throws, and he'll never touch me.”’ “He <— > A NN Re ge > epee ets “Come here, Merriwell!’ roared Horn. . “You’ve got to reduce the size of this gent’s head, or else he'll never find another hat to fit him.” “What’s the matter now?” inquired Dick. “This person remarks that you ropes that thar steer by cold luck. I thinks different, and I’ve stated that as e te . CNT aa sf Sh ar Ser ing, both to be mounted, and him to give you a neue i. by getting within casting distance.” | “Oh, never mind that,” he turned to the two girls. ‘“‘Sefiorita Pepita, I trust your fall did not hurt you much?” that I should have been killed only for you. so much!” : _ “Horn is the one you should thank, sefiorita.” $e Pe LE Neg BAS Bg SD ears T owe you | “Not by a long shot,’ contradicted the cowboy. “T saw I wasn’t going to get there in time. I was just | — going to empty my gun at the critter when I observes you ready to cast the rope. Then I relies on you, and I makes no mistake.” . tate Bill Horn unspeakably TIP TOP. to noose a running steer. you can drop a noose over his head the first time try-. said Dick, as, hat jn hand, “T don’t think it hurt me at all, sefior, but I'm told. through | the air. Again Charlie Colt laughed, which seemed to irri- WEEKLY. “Sometimes you wise gents go wrong sizing people up,” he said. “If you want to satisfy yourself a-plenty concerning Dick Merriwell’s ability to drop a rope over your head, just ride out and let him try it before this assemblage.” ¥ “T’m waiting,” said Colt. “When he’s ready to give his exhibition, he will find me doing my part.” At last Dick was irritated into action. “As long as you're so insistent,” he said, “we'll try it once.” called Colt. Out into the open they rode, Dick gathering. the coiled rope in his left hand, with the noose held prop- erly in his right. called Colt. He touched his pony with the spurs, and the animal leaped forward, circling in front of Dick. Colt watched. Merriwell leaning well forward, with his right arm bent and ready for use. At the pressure of his knee his horse swerved away. | reaching for his recoiled lariat, “As many times as you choose,” “Ready !” “Why didn’t you throw?” he shouted over his shoul- der. Dick made no answer. The man came round and drew near again, still o guard, Dick sought to close in, but the fellow. was away again. _ Again and again the Highink: mocking rider circled close, ready to dodge the swinging loop. Séveral times Dick realized that the cast might prove ineffectual, and. therefore he held his hand; for it was no such simple matter to rope a watchful, heady horseman as it was Colt grew bolder and more mocking. Suddenly Dick a touched his pony lightly with the spurs and shot for- ward, judging correctly the swerving movement of the : other man. That movement brought Colt directly back > to Merriwell, which forced him for a moment ‘to take. his eyes. off Dick. th In that moment Merriwell sent the noose shooting . It sailed straight out, with the re- — mainder of the rope squirming in pursuit, and encore beautifully over Colt’s head and shoulders. With a slight jerk, Dick drew the noose taut, again touching his mount with the sputs to prevent the ani> mal from setting itself, which would have epee the: captured man from the saddle. ) é A great shout went up from the spectators “Yi; yi; yi, ye-ee-ee!” shrilled Bill Horn exultantly. “Didn't I tell yer the could do ite” oe Dede TOP | - CHAPTER IV, THE STORY OF THE ARMLESS: PITCHER. In San Antonio Old Man Buckhart had thoughtfully purchased the uniforms of a recently disbanded base- ball team, eleven suits of varying sizes, consisting of gray caps, shirts, and pants, and red stocking, He had also brought to the ranch an ample supply of base- ball shoes, twenty or more fine hats, mitts. and gloves galore, a body protector, a catcher’s mask, and a few other little things which he fancied might be needed by the team. The Twin Stars were also provided with uniforms, that afternoon they strongly resembled “the. real thing.” It is true that several of the Bar Z bunch were rather heavy and awkward in practice, giving their a opponents. more or less amusement, but upon the field Ce the Twin Stars bore themselves after me manner of % professionals, | ie Ned Smith, the foreman of the home ranch, com- monly known as Cyclone Smith, was the captain of the Bar Z outfit. Arriving at the field ahead of the visitors, Smith at once sent’ his men out to practice, and gave them nearly ten minutes of good, lively work. Merri-. well limbered up his arm gently , but refrained from exerting himself much or w Bikatr too long before the real business of {1 he game began. : ' Findjng’ the. Twin Stars waiting and amused over the exhibition of the locals, Smith called his men into the bench and surrendered the field to the enemy. It chanced that Ebenezer Q. Duck, known on the ‘tanch as “Circus” because of his claim that by “pro- fession” he was a circus. man, seated himself between Dick Merriwell and Brad Buckhart. Duck was to cover the infield at shortstop, and he had demonstrated _ that he was not wholly’ unqualified for that position. He was a tall, lank, long-legged, thin-necked, solemn person, whose habitual sad cast of countenance seemed — to indicate that he was constantly on the verge of tears. _ One could not look at Dyck without feeling sympathy _ for a person so w eiked a down with the woes of the s world. as ST presume,’ + sche tiny Shuetbed. “that I shall be somewhat to the punk segaciating around short- _ stop’s position. An extremely protracted period of time. “has: elapsed since I last played.baseball. N evertheless, HF m not wholly unfamiliar with the intricacies of the game. Oh, yes, I’ve been there—I've played ,it some. Tl tell you how I 1 happened to get into it, if you don’t . tind harkening to the tale.” + 2 and therefore when the two teams appeared on the field ° WEEKLY, “Go ahead, Duck,” nodded Dick. “We can listen to you and watch those fellows practice at the same time.” Metriwell; found no small amusement in the wild, weird reminiscences of a “tumultuous career” Which often flowed from the lips of the old circus man. “Well,” said Ebenezer, “along in umpty-six, or about that date, anno domino, I was traveling with a one- horse circus run by old Pop Selling. We had haydoo- gins of paper, and we siniply plastered the country with posters advertising ‘the most marvelous, amazaing tounding, under canv g, as- gorgeous, glittering array of talent ever seen as.’ It’s true we didn’t have half the peo- ple and half the attractions advertised, and it’s likewise true that the people wevhad, one and all, were com- pelled to do double and treble service, appearing in va- rious feats under different names. Nevertheless, we were traveling over a new route, working the hayseed country, and we managed to get along fairly well,. despite the fact that on an average one town in three exhibited its displeasure ove our failure to deliver the goods promised by rising up en masse and chasing us in a running fight, between the hours of midnight and morning, over intosthe adjoining township on our way to the next stand. We got so we expected these little ‘skirmishes, and grew dejected and disappointed if they. failed\ to materialize about so often. However, also and likewise, that has nothing to do with my story, gtk fairly well until we collided with an opposing attrac- tion in the form of the Eclipse baseball team, an inde- pendent organization towering those same rural re- gions. The Eclipsers claimed to have a never-beaten record, and they certainly’ were to¥ing with the Joshua’ teams of the back counties. names of a number of national celebrities of the dia- mond. I don’t know whether all of these famous base- ball stars ever played with the Eclipse organization, but I do know. that one or two of them, once good men, but eventually canned by the big teams, were actually traveling with the outfit when we struck ’em. | Never- theless, they were fast enotigh to make the country teams which they met seem like never-wasers.. “They really had a corking pitch$r by the name of Lantry. This Lantry’s one failing which kept him heretdfore remarked, we were prospering , from shining as a star of the first magnitude in the | baseball zenith was his proneness to look on the corn juice which biteth like a serpent and stingeth more se- verely than a whole colony of yaller wasps. About so often Lantry would get beautifully ossified. The Eclipse manager had been fairly however, in keeping him straight, and w hen he was straight he yp successful, On their list they had the” o SG bs seins CFs ee kere she Goapele et Te ee TOI EE ESA. othe RES 34P aor: could hand up the most bewildering array of shoots and benders that ever dazzled a batter. “Goshen, Indiana, encountered the Ecli They were billed there to play on the same afternoon that our circus was adver- was the town in which we first psers. tised to give a performance. The denizens of Goshen and_its back pasture suburbs appeared in vast hords, and old Pop was overjoyed with the prospect of a big attendance, which would give him money enough to treck on his way rejoicing, and likewise soothe the dis- ¥ db turbed and unsatisfied minds of his performers, with whom he was in arrears, by doling out a little of the needful. “Well, boys, the populace enjoyed our street parade, which they, could observe free and without cost, but when the hour for the big show to begin arrived, barely twenty paid admissions had been taken. The crowd was all over at the baseball field watching the game be- tween the Eclipsers and the locals, Old Pop surveyed the circle of empty seats,,and then broke the peace, ruptured the Decalogue, and shattered the Ten Com- jnandments with his remarks. .I never before listened to language of such, a humid and pungent. nature. Really, I feared he would explode a blood vessel or something of that sort, and I made a rapid calculation ~of my losd of salary in case he dropped dead in his tracks. He survived, however, but he refused to per- form, and notified the emaciated audience that those who had bought tickets would receive their money back as oe passed out. “Pop was so extremely exasperated that he wouldn’t even linger in Goshen to give the evening performance. Having cussed the town and the Eclipse baseball team up hill and down dale, he gave orders for us to pull up stakes and get under way to our next destination. “But alas and alack! when we arrived in Squeeze- port, we found that the Eclipse baseball team was ad- vertised to appear there upon the same date. They » appeared, and our disastrous experience of Goshen was duplicated. % 1 tell you, .boys, that made us all think a few solemn thunks, for, if such a calamity was to pur- sue us, it would not be long before the whole show would take the same route as the powder mill in which one of the workmen thoughtlessly lighted his pipe. In order that we might find out just how the land lay, old ap wired ‘on to Huckleberry Centre and learned that the Eclipsers were to play ‘there also upon the day that we were to appear. Then the old man called. us to- gether for a council of war. _ “We cussed and discussed the situation for some time. Some of the hotheaded members of our tribe WEEKLY. | 9 / suggested that we should go forth and fall upon the Philistines, otherwise the Eclipsers, and slaughter them hip and thigh. Fortunately, cooler counsel prevailed. It was Dingle, the trapeze man, bareback rider, and bearded lady of the side show, who suggested another course of action, which was finally Dingle proposed that we should make tp a ball team and go out and challenge the Eclipsers. This we finally dd, pressing into setvice every male member of the com- pany with the exception of Bizoque, the armless won- der, and even Biz pleaded and begged for tl of playing. / “As usual, the Eclipsers had a walkover with the local team. When the game had ended with the score something like thirty to nothing-in favor of the visit- ing organization, old Pop strode forth onto. the dia- mond and loudly challenged the Eclipsers to tackle ‘us, promising to wipe up the sod with then if they ae accept. , “They accepted. The game was one of the most painful events of my We went to bat first, and Lantry struck out, the first three men in or- der. When the shades of evening gently closed over the pastoral landscape that first inning was still in prog- ress, with the score about fifty to nothing in the ene- my’s favor and only one man out. Darkness stopped agreed upon. le privilege lucid memory. the play, but, as five complete innings had not been gone through, old Pop claimed that it was no game. “Imagine the dense cloud of dejection which hung like a pall over our organization that night. Appar- ently we were up against it for fair. nothing to do but change our route and make sure we | i ; Me were not going to encgunter the Eclipsers on future dates. It was too late, however, to cut out Huckle- berry Centre, and so we promulgated along to that. place, hoping against hope that the citizens of Huckle- berry would prefer a circus to a baseball game. Not so, however. eyes. I think old Pop meditated susandide. giving way under the dreadful strain, for, when some one proposed that we should tackle the Eclipsers again, he burst into a frothing fit of laughter that chilled my. ° blood. “ ‘Tf we only had a pitcher,’ said Bender, the human es snake, “we might stand a chance against them. Our crying need is a twirler who can put'’em over with all the skill and speed of their man Lantry.’ “At this juncture Bizoque, the armless wonder, pro- posed that he should try his hand—or, rather, his foot ; f | adept. Many a time have I sneaked out to watch him plug the nigger, and laughed myself sore over his performance. Oh, it was a rare treat to see him poise himself on his left foot, grasp a ball with the long, cA flexible toes of his right foot, and hand up a curve which nearly always shot in and struck the colored in- dividual between the blinkers! “After we had thought Bizoque’s proposition over a bit, we decided that it wasn’t so preposterously foolish as it had seemed at first, and finally we agreed to tackle _ the Eclipsers again with Biz in the box. “Of course, the manager of the Eclipse outfit pave us’ the laugh and the fan-aside when we challenged him again at the termination of the regular game that day,. _ Nevertheless, old Pop, who had braced up, was desper- ate, and he offered to wager fifty dollars that we could trim those fellows. This proposition was ,promptly “snapped up, and we squared away for business. &T'sis time the enemy went to bat first. Say, when hey saw our pitcher they had spazazams. ‘They sim- ly laughed themselves into convulsions. The first bat- TOP er MP Was ere so hard that eg tears aCe WEEKLY. three balls Biz pushed over the centre of the pan. Therefore, ere he realized it, he had been called ott on strikes, “Observing the fate of his comrade, the next hitter tools precautions not to be caught that way. He was ready to knock the cover off the ball, and Bizoque knew it was up to him to use due precaution and skill. Oh, great Alexander! I'll never forget that palpitating moment! Every man of us on the team was over- wrought with suspense and anxiety—with the possible exception of. Bizoque himself, Twining his pencil toes about the horsehide, Biz poised himself with his left foot on the rubber plate and gave a most bewildering flourish with his right leg. lar whirling, twisting motion he delivered the ball. “The batter was totally unprepared, and stood there gawking with his mouth wide open as the sphere cut the outside corner of the pan. A. strike was) called. The catcher returned the ball, and Bizoque caught it deftly with his foot, Almost instantly, without any preliminary swing whatever, he shot it back over the pan for the second called strike. “Then the batter’s companions roused themselves and yelled for him to wake up and hit. He fiad seen an exhibition of the armless wonder’s speed, and he felt that he could eat speed. . “But when Biz pitched again, once more using that tremendously amazing delivery, he passed up a ball which seemed to hang suspended in the air, and the gent with the club nearly yanked his head off striking too quick. “You should have heard the roars of applause which. rose from the delighted assemblage. You should have seen the looks of dismay which settled on the faces bf the Eclipsers. ‘To make a long story short, although those fellows settled down and tried their level best to hit Bizoque, they couldn’t do a thing that day. The mere fact that, they were batting against a pitcher who pitched with his. foot instead of his hand seemed suffi-_, _ cient to put them all to the bad. It’s true that two or _ three of their steadiest and best hitters did land against the horsehide, but the best they could do was to pop up— little flies or hit easy grounders into the diamond. Only one man hit a liner, and the ball went stfaight at our pitcher, who. snapped up his foot like a flash of » lightning and caught it easily. “Their ill success had a most depressing effect on _Lantry, and in the seventh inning we fell on him with vigorous violence and pounded over five runs in con- — 7 In the midst of that singu- © The fellow grabbed his slugger, set his teeth, and squared away.