DIcK MERRIWELL IN THE SADDLE

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

: i
i

WHOOPING AND YELLING LIKE INDIANS. THE rz
BUNCH CAME THUNDERING UP 70 THE MESS JY°/.

 

 

 

 
 
 

a ye

A;

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
 

*
”

 

 

Issued Weekly. By subscription $2.50 per year. Entered as Second-class Matter at the N. Y. Post Office, by STREET & SMITH, 19-89 Seventh Ave., NV. ¥,
Copyright, 1909, y STREET & SMITH.

  

 

No. 696,

NEW YORK, August 14,

  

/

909. Price Five Cents.

 

Dick Merriwell in the Saddle

; at

THE BUNCH FROM THE BAR Z.

' By BURT L. STANDISH.

CHAPTER I.
THE COWPUNCHERS CAMP.

The day had been beastly hot, even for South-
western Texas. It was but one, however, of a long
succession of such days, treading on each other’s heels

and baking the face of the great barren, gray, untim-

bered plains, sucking dry the streams, shriveling the

springs, and causing even the rivers to dwindle to,

mere threads.

In such weather as this the herds of cattle feeding
upon the tufted grama grass of these ranges suffered
intensely from lack of water, and hundreds were cer-

tain to perish miserably of thirst. Around the infre-
quent water holes the range had been grazed bare
for vast distances, which made it necessary for the
cattle to’ travel far to feed. At night they might be
seen in small bunches coming at a run to drink, and

‘ when they had quenched their thirst they set forth,
again at a run, to return to the feeding grounds.

Many of these shrunken water holes became traps

of death, for into their miry depths the thirsty cattle
would plunge and wade, often becoming mired.
Weakened as they were by thirst, it was no easy task

 

 

 

for them to extricate themselves from the sucking.

_ property always seems unnecessary and cruel; but the |
native Texan, the Southwestern rancher, will tell you —

   
   
   
 
 
  
  
 
    
  
   
  
   
   
  
  
   
   
     
 

mud, which seemed to have no solid bottom whatever.
Now and then an unfortunate creature became stuck
and was held fast in spite of its most desperate ef-—
forts. Its companions, who had also come to drink,
would depart with usual haste and leave the lone beast.
to its fate. Lower and lower the creature must sink.
In time only its head would remain above the surface,
and eventually the smothering, choking mixture of
earth and water, as thick as molasses, would close
over the doomed animal. 3

To. an Easterner or a person unaccustomed. to the —
methods of life upon Texas ranges this loss of life and

that it is absolutely unavoidable. Nevertheless, it is
the duty of the punchers and range riders to prevent”
as far as possible such catastrophies, and a great deal —
of time is spent in looking for mired cattle and rescu- f
ing them. io
The sun, a ball of blazing fire, had sunk in the west
when Jim, the cook with the Bar'Z mess wagon, —
saw the first three men of the outfit riding in his direc-
tion from the west at the head of a little trail.of dust. —

  

    
    

 

 
         
  
 
 
 
  
  
   
  
  
  
 
  
 
  
  
  
 
 
   
  
  
  
  
  
   
  
  
 
  
  
  
 
   
 
  
   
  
 
 
  
  
  
  
 
 
  

 

2 TLP POP
He knew the others would follow before long, and
therefore, without looking for them further, he went on
with preparations for supper. |

They came in at intervals, nine of them in all, grim,
dusty, silent men, each of whom possibly had covered
some scores of miles since setting forth ere sunrise in
the morning. They unsaddled their horses and watered
the animals at the hole some distance from the wagon,
afterward hobbling them and turning them loose to find
such scant food as they could.

Cyclone Smith, foreman of the Bar Z, a small, in-
significant- looking man with a faded, straw-colored
mustache, had an eye for everything that transpired,
although he wasted little breath in words. He listened
quietly to the reports of those men, whom he had not
seen. since morning, nodding and frowning as he was
pleased or otherwise by the statements they made.

Of all the number only one man seemed inclined to
be voluble. He was.a long, lanky, thin person, with
the saddest and most dejected face imaginable. Upon
his slightly. rounded shoulders one might fancy there
rested the woes of a nation, and his faded blue eyes
forever seemed on the vérge of yielding tears. «This
man was known upon the Bar. Z. by the nickname of
Circus. It is true he had another name which’ he had
given on making application for a job, but no-one
‘seemed to remember what it was. That he was not a
cowpuncher he had sorrowfully confessed, but had
added the information that he could ride anything hay-
: ing four legs, as he had spent some years of his life as
an equestrian with circuses. Hence the nickname given

him. Rh

“Well, Circus?” said the foreman, as the woeful-ap-
_ pearing cowboy approached with a queer, limber-
. kneed, bobbing gait.
ig “Very well, indeed, thank ye kindly, said Circus.

“T don’t think I ever before was enjoying such a salu-

_ brious and contagious superabundance of extravagant
good health. »: The: only thing thaw worries me is the
emaciated state of my appetite.” Ati
_ Circus was a tremendous eater, always hungry and
~ never able to get enough. As Bill Horn had expressed

>».

 

grub he swallowed,
_ down to his feet.”
fe eon i} ana Smith curtly.

“unless his legs were holler clean

 
 
 
 

| my r horse into a gopher hole, broke my swanlike neck
in four distinct places, and—that’s all.”

“You saw no signs of rustlers ?”

Nay. aut pele would give me an abnofmal amount

 

it, it was marvelous where Circus: could stow all the.

5 _ (Pulled three cows out of the mire, shot a wolf, rode

   

WEEKLY,

of satisfaction to report that I had collided with a
bunch of eighteen or twenty rustling persons and scat-
tered them around careless on the arid desert as prov-
ender for buzzards, but, being an excruciatingly truth-
ful person, I can’t say so,”

With his other failings, Circus was known as one of
the biggest liars on the range; but, having had one ex-
perience in falsifying to Cyclone Smith, he forever
afterward clung fast to veracity when making his re-
ports.

Smith grunted.

“This expedition doesn’t seem to be doing much to
earn its salt,” he grumbled. ‘The old man knows we're
losing cows regular, and it’s pretty certain that. that
greaser Castro is depleting the Bar Z herds, though we
can’t seem to catch the critter at work. The only thing
we've made right sure of is that less than half the cows
we're losing are mired, or killed by wild animals. Ev-
ery time we set out and look for Castro he seems to
slip off the face of the earth, but he’s back again at his
blamed work the minute we settle down and go about
our regular peaceful duties.”

“Just give me-blamonge to go forth on the ion of
Castro all by my vivacious lonesome,” said Circus, “and
I'll agree to bring you his scalp for a. door mat inside of
two weeks.
get him if I have to run him a sprint all the way down
to Chihuahua.

how I roped and landed the chief mourner of that —

bunch of train robbers who held up the Northern Pa-
cific Express at Cross Bar in ninety-seven?”
“Forget it, Circus,” said Smith curtly.. “If you’ve
got to keep your vivid eae in running order,
practice on some one else.”
“Excuse me,” murmured. Circus monradly:

ious reputation. It has caused me unmitigated misery:

and woe, although you'd never suspect it to gaze on my

beaming countenance,”

“Grub pile, grub pile,”

In short order those nine men gathered in a circle to ©
eat beans, bacon, and corn bread and drink black, un-
Cireus was on hand with his ustal
‘ promptness, and ere any of the others had obtained a
mouthful he was shoveling the’ food away at a rate

milked coffee.”

which would have awed a stranger.

“Your appetite,” observed Bill Horn, with an intto- as
‘seems to be some delicate, as hates
usual, Circus. _ It’s always been a ‘problem to me to un- in

nation of sympathy, ‘

Vl be pragmatically swizzled if I won’t |

Ever hear the hair-marcelling tale about |

“For.
a man who loves the naked, unadulterated: truth more
than life itself, I’ve certainly acquired a most obnox-

sounded the voice of the cook,

 
  
 

   

ie
4
‘|
“4
>}
i
[
4 P /
“
i
‘ 4
%
“ag
ie:
£y' ese
; i i;
ee

 

      
   
   

 

 
   

 

 

   

   
 
 

time you

  

of my

Tae 2

derstand how you manage to exist on such humming-
bird morsels of meals.”’

— “T think I’m doing slightly better than I was,” mum-
bled the thin man between mouthfuls. “Still, at the
first opportunity I propose to consult some prominent
physician in view of obtaining a tonic that, may enable
Once on a time
I remember

me to eat a rational amount of grub.
I did have a fairly satisfactory appetite.
one occasion when on a wager I cleaned out a bakeshop,
eating fifty-three loaves of bread, forty-nine loaves of
cake, one hundred and eleven assorted pies, and some
three or four bushels of crullers, not to mention the
various little knickknacks which I absorbed or the side
—the inside,
traveling with Balem & Barney’s Circus, and I’d care-

3?

I mean, of course. That was when I was

lessly missed a couple of previous meals.

“Keep him talking, Horn,” grunted a cowboy named
Turner, “and mebbe the rest of us will be able to get
half enough to,eat.”

“Ah, ha!” breathed Circus. “I diagnose your per-
fidious design. You shall be diabolically foiled. Jim,
fill her up again.” :

He passed his emptied tin plate to the weary-looking
cook, who simply shook his head and groaned as he
loaded the dish with another supply of beans and bacon.

“Tell us, Circus,” invited Turner sweetly, “about that
traveled with Kerman, the magician,

and put him to shame one night by pulling a zebra, a
giraffe, and a cinnamon bear out/of the small talk silk
hat from which he had lately been producing rabbits
for the mystification of the audience.”

“Not at present, Turner—not if I have fathomed my
own sagacity. Just now I’m too busy trying to. get

enough of this grub to fill the hollers in my back teeth.
By and by, if you still yearn with an unquenchable
yearning for that voracious little remihiscence, I’ll take
pleasure in reeling it off for you with all the side dishes
and decorations and fancy flourishes that properly
should be appendixed.” . iy

“Tf you tell that romance again,” snapped Squinty, a
little red-headed chap with puckered eyes and a fiery
temper, “I sure am going to forget myself and shoot
you up some. I’ve heard the story twenty-three times
already, and I judge that’s the limit. You’ve never yet
‘succeeded in telling it twice alike, but even the varia-
tions have become a-plenty monotonous to me.”

“Alas and alack!” sighed Circus. “Some persons
are propitiated into this world with a most unfortunate
distaste for Squinty, I wouldn't
have your temperamental disposition for all the wealth

old-time bosom friend, John D.” |

a real good story.

   

  

WEEKLY. 3

“You don’t have to have it,” snapped Squinty. “I
was some afraid when we started out that we was go-
ing to be burdened with the old man’s son and that
tenderfoot chum of his, which would have made it too
much for human endurance, taking you into considera-
tion likewise.”

“And I,” said Bill Horn, “was some disappointed
that the youngsters didn’t come along with us. Brad
sure is no tenderfoot, and it might have been right
good sport initiating his schoo} pard into real life on
the range. I ‘low, however, that he’d get some tired
and quit before this.”

“Perhaps not, Bill,” said the foreman. “You know
I met up with that boy Merriwell the time I traveled
East with Brad when he went to college. The boy is
a good fighter with plenty of sand in his craw, and
I’ve a notion he could stand up and take his medicine
with the rest of this bunch.”

Horn shook his head.

“‘He’s a heap too tender and fresh, though he lands
at the ranch minus a b’iled shirt and wearing plain
puncher clothes. I ’low it was Brad who put him wise
to that.”

“TI haven't any use for kids on the range,’ declared
Squinty, as he finished eating and produced his pipe.
“They're” always underfoot and bothering, and you

have to look out for them like they was babies. Of
course the old man’s son brought that chap on to show

9

 

him a good time, and

‘We'd showed him if he’d come along with us,”
erunted Horn. “Greenhorns from the East always |
‘low we don’t have anything but a good time punching —
cows, The stories them fellers write for magazines is
mainly responsible for such an erroneous opinion.” _

“Still,” said Squinty, “I notice you always grab for —
the magazines what print such stories. They seem to’
interest you a heap.”

“T ‘low I read ’em just to see what sort of blunders
the blame fool writers can make,’ nodded Horn.
“They’re some interesting in that respect.” |

“Wark! said the foreman. “If I’m not mistaken, |
somebody is coming.” . | :

Through the twilight came the faint, far-away =
sound of horses’ hoofs. This sound gradually grew
more distinct. aa

Without a word those men rose, stepped bake fron ae
the fire, and sought their weapons.

Suddenly a hail came floatin ig to their ears.
gathering darkness they saw two horsemen approach-—
ing. The manner in which the riders came on séemed

 

 

 

In the : -

  
   
  
   
 

 
 

“and we're a-plenty hungry.
“per. That’s too bad, for I reckoned on getting here in.
time to eat with | you, and we're pataey, near fam-
- ished.” | | ,
“That's most unfortunate,” said Sait, “or we've |
just et up all the pie and cake and plum pudding and »

4 LEP ore

to betoken that they were not enemies, and Cyclone
Smith answered that hail at once.

A few moments later two dusty youths drew rein in
the circle of firelight and promptly dismounted.

“So help me,” chuckled Bill Horn, “it’s them same
boys! Squinty, we've got ‘em on our hands, after all.”

é

CHAPTER. II.
UNWELCOME RECRUITS.

Riding up, Brad Buekhart and Dick Merriwell dis-
mounted, watched with a strange variety of emotions
by the seemingly indifferent cowboys. Cyclone Smith
advanced to meet them, observing that they had sprung
something of a surprise on the outfit.

“Well, Cylclone,” said Brad, “we got a-plenty tired
of hanging around the ranch with nothing doing in
particular, and so we decided to join this bunch, hepitig

_ there might be some amusement with the rustlers.”

“Listen to that, Sqtinty,” muttered Bill Horn.
“They're thirsting for amusement, and they reckons
mebbe they'll git some if we rtm up against the rustlers.
I ‘low. perhaps the old man’s son knows what he’s tall

ing about, but his tenderfoot chum doesn’t understand

what it means to get mixed up with a bunch of cow-
stealing greasers.”
“Oh, they make me sick!” growled Squinty.
clone he ‘lows the boss’ son is all right, but I never did
have any use for kids.
of trouble and perplexity.”
“You see,’

’ Brad was continuing, “my pard Merri-

well wants a taste of real cowboy life, which I’ve long
“promised him he shotild have hete on the Bar Z.”

“He'd git all that was Coat if I had my way,”

- muttered Squinty.

“We've had a right long ride of it,” said the Texan,
I see you've finished sup-

‘ice cream. there was. You’ tl sure starve to death on

batt Fi Hany pr A

. Brad gave the sour cowboy a look: BL HCAS ER RT 2
“Oh, I reckon not, e he drawled. ah es ve got any

  

   

cacies it will bother you some.to mention.

ROY

They’ re always. making no end —

us, smiled Buckhart.

WEEKLY.

“Prairie dogs are out-of season,” said Squinty, “arid
jack rabbits has been so shy we ain't adding any to our
Howsomever, mebbe Jim has got some 0’ that

though | presume it might not agree

menu,
roast skunk left,
with the delicate stomach
your friend.”

“Oh, smiled the rancher’s son,
ruffled, “TI. allow my partner will eat without com-
plaint whatever the rest of the outfit eats.”

I don’t know,” un-

“Sure,” said Dick cheerfully, a slight twinkle in his
dark eyes. “I’m not very fussy about my food. For
breakfast I’m satisfied with oatmeal and cream, soft

boiled eggs and percolated coffee. I seldom eat a great
deal in the middle of the day. Give me a nice sirloin
steak with brown gravy, Delmonicoed potatoes, aspara-
gus tips on toast and a Tontonie salad of vegetables
with French dressing and J can manage to get along.
For supper I prefer almost anything in the cold-meat
line, with a side dish of potato salad and a small tri-
angle of custard pie.”

“Whoop!”
giving the cook a slap on the shoulder.
chance to show your culinary skill, Jim. This here,’’
he explained, “is our chef, late of the Waldorf-Cas-
toria, and what he can’t provide in the way of deli-
Oatmeal and
Ho! ho! A nice

laughed Bill Horn, striding forward and

cream. Ha!ha! Fresh boiled eggs.

thick steak with Delmonicoed pototoes, asparagus tips

on toast and similar trimmings. He! he! That thar
Tontonie salad soutids some good likewise. ‘All you
has to do, Jim, is step out here ’most anywhere and
cull the vegetables. We keeps the larder stocked con-
stant with an unnamable variety of colél meats, and the

pies Jim can slap together will make your mouth water.

like a weeping spring.” |

“Let up, Horn,” said the foreman. “Unfortunately,
boys, we're down to bacon, canned bears, coffee, and
hatd-tack just now.’

“Well, I allow, that sort of fare will have ta do ce

“Perhaps Merriwell can manage
to subsist on it.” |

“He'll have to,” muttered Squinty.

And 80, with the moon just beginning to peep in the |
east, the cook opened ariother can of beans, sliced more

bacon and ds to satisfy the a of the new

arrivals,

roi was a sudden commotion among the horses,
_ kicking, squealing, and signs of general C listurbance. hs ”
That Bes that devilish SN of yours again, |

and pampered appetite of,

“There's your

i

!

 

 

    
       
       
     
       
 
      
      
       
     

    

 

 
iP TOS

’

Squinty,” said Turner. “If I was in your place, I’d
get-some hobbles that would hold him a while.”

“Didn’t hobble the critter to-night,”’
“picketed him. I "low he’s managed to pull the picket
pin loose somehow. Now thar’ll be blazes to catch him.
Lemme take your pony, Turner.”
~ “T suppose I’ll have to, though my horse has been rid
hard enough for one day.” :

“Pard,” said Brad, “Squinty’s horse has got loose.
The critter has a pernicious habit of raising hob with
the other ponies of the outfit whenever he gets a chance.
2 _ Tallow the boys are all a-plenty tired after a hard day.
_ Why don’t you go catch and picket that horse ?”

“All right,” said Dick promptly, “I'll do it.”

“Hold on,” objected Squinty. “You couldn’t éap-
ture Beelzebub in a year of trying. Thar ain’t a man

said Squinty;

 

person what’s ever straddled him stccessfully. He
killed Larry Dikes, the broncho buster, when Larry at-
tempted to break him.” 1
ae “He must be a very vicious animal,” said Dick.
Any “Still if you’re willing, I’ll let you rest while I go out
sf and get Beelzebub.”
ee “Go ahead, pard,” urged Brad, “and hur ry some, for
) ® things will be piping hot atid ready to eat by the time
| you finish the job.”
Ae “I judge they will,” sneered Squinty; “but if Jim
continues that fire to keep ’em hot until he ropes Beelze-
bub, he’ll run it constant for the next few months.”
Pay “We'll see,” said Dick, as he mounted his horse and
ape rode off, removing the coiled rope from the saddle horn.
Taos o: “IT washes my hands of all responsibility,” said
| Squinty, “TI reckon, however, he won’t get within
- rods of Beelzebub. Should he do so, nevertheless, I
want it distinctly understood that I raised objections,
for T don’t want to be considered the cause of his de-
mise. Permit me to inquire, Brad, how it comes that
you're so mighty anxious to attend the funeral of your
friend?”
Buckhart laughed,
“As long as he had such an overweening desire to
have a taste of real cowpuncher life,” he said, “I -
thought he might as well begin without delay. I’m not
much worried over any serious harm coming to him,”

 

“Well, mebbe there ain’t no particulat reason to wots
ty,” admitted Squinty, “for I opine he will chase the

_ cayuse all over El Paso County without getting within
comfortable roping distance, unless Beelzebuh becomes
wearied and starts in to kick the packing out o’ him and

in the bunch, ’cept me, that can do it, and I’m the only

would take stipper alone that night, when some one of

        
    
     
  
   
  
    
 
 
  
   
  
   
  
   
   
  
  
  
  
 
   
   
   
   
  
  
 

WEEKLY.
CHAPTER IIL
A SURPRISE FOR SQUINTY.

“Tell you what,” said Brad, “I’m willing to bet
something that my pard ropes Beelzebub. Further-
more, I’ll take a chance on it that he can ride the cayuse,
toa <7,

At this Squinty laughed derisively.

“Though you was raised in Texas,” he said, “your
recent experience in the East has certain plumb spoiled
your judgment. If thar’s a man living ’cept myself
what can ride Beelzebub, I'll make him a present 0’
the critter. Not being the foreman of this bunch, I
feel that I’m absolved, no matter what happens; but I .

, didn’t judge Cyclone would allow the greeny to take
such chances.” }

“You needn’t disturb yourself oti my account,
Squinty,” said Smith. “If Brad saw fit to let the boy
try it, 1 fail to understand why I should interfere.”

They watched Dick ride away toward the horses,
where the commotion. still continued. The moon had
lifted clear of the Horizon and was flooding the plain
With white light, which was sufficient to enable them to
take note of the course of events for the present.

 Squinty’s horse continued its pestering manoeuvres
among the others until Dick Merriwell was close at
hand, Then, of a sudden, the animal wheeled out, from
the rest, cut a half circle in front of the approaching _
youth, flirted its heels in the air with a shrill squeal of |
defiance, and made off.

_ Merriwell set out in pursuit at a sharp canter. |

" “Good-by,” said Squinty, striking a ‘match and re-—
lighting his pipe. “You'll have a nice little ride of it,
and mebbe we'll next hear of you down in Mexico oe
somewhar.” .

With which remark he seated himself indistebecitiy ise
upon the ground, although the. others continued to —
watch until the figures of the fleeing horse and mounted -
pursuer became dim and es and melted into the oe ‘
‘gtay distance. — Eee

“Tt certain was foolish,” agreed Turner. oy bye the
boy’s liable to get lost, in which case he'll be pretty.
‘ sure to eroale for want of water, which i isa heap anes
about now,” fs %

The cow boys continued fo. wnatrided that their foreman ee
thad permitted such a, foolish piece of. business, but
Cyclone Smith showed his unconcern by talking — .
with Brad concerning other matters.

Perhaps half an hour had passed, during whith: time
Jim had once or twice observed that the rancher’s son

  
    
      
      
        
     
     
    
    
     
      
 
 

  

    
  

   
   
 

 

    

6 Tie rae

the party declared he could hear the sound of hoofs.
This caused them all to look around in search of the
cause, and after a time they discovered, far off in the
moonlight, just pitching over a slight swell, what
seemed to be two moving figures,

“T opine,’ said Bill Horn, “that Beelzebub has
doubled on the youngster and is comitig back this way.”

“Which, I presume,” said Squinty, “is what Cyclone
counted on and therefore is none disturbed.”

It was not long before those moving figures again
rose into view in the moonlight, and then, as the men
watched, they perceived that the leader was a mounted
man, coming at a furious pace, with an unmounted
pony’ following him.

“Well, now,” drawled Horn, with an intonation of
surprise, as he slowly scratched his head,
look like Beelzébub was a-driving the youngster back
this yere way some lively.”

“Either that,” observed Smith gently, “or the ey OuneS
ster is hiking this\way with Beelzebub in tow.’

“Not any,” cried Squinty. ‘Don’t you believe it for
a second. I judge Bill has got it correct. My pony he
become some tired of being chased, and so he turns
round and plays chaser.”

This idea filled the little cowboy with untold delight,
causing him to chuckle and slap his thigh repeatedly.

The clatter of hoofs grew more and more distinct.
On and on came the horseman, followed by the unrid-
den pony. Through the night floated a shrill, sharp
yell, which seemed vibrant with an intonation of satis-
faction and triumph.

“He’s certain. coming
Turner. | :

“And I’m still ready to wager something on his per-

“formance,” said Brad. “I'll bet he’s caught Beelzebub
and is bringing the critter in.”

“It woul be like taking candy from the baby to bet
with you,” declared Squenty.

“Look out!’ roared Horn.

“it begins to

39

hillwhooping,’ observed

out for your coffeepot, Jim.”
The cook caught up the coffeepot from thie coals and

sprang back behind the mess wagon.
scattered the cowboys as the wild rider headed straight
forthe camp fire. ,

Then some one yelled: ai

“By the everlasting, he’s riding Beelzebub!”
_ Squinty seemed paralyzed with amazement and in-
_eredulity. He stood like one benumbed, seeing the boy
clinging fast to the unsaddled back of Beelzebub and
hearing his triumphant yells.

“Unless he sheers some,
he’s coming straight through here like a norther. Look .

Right and left

The other pony, with

WEEKLY.

slack-
ened and turned aside ere the camp was reached, join-

saddle empty and bridle rein swinging loose
a a> b J

ing the hobbled horses and falling to grazing.

Straight through the camp tore Beelzebub, leaping
the smouldering camp fire and continuing onward to
the north with a long trailing end of rope whipping the
air behind him.

“Well, what do you think ‘of that?”
Horn, cracking Squinty a slap on the back. “I thought
you stated that nobody could ride that cayuse except
yourself?”

“Yah!” rasped the astonished little cowboy. “I-don’t
know how he ever straddled the critter, but I’ll wager
he gits off with a broken neck.”

“ook! look!

‘urged Turner. “The boy is sure han-

dling that horse.”
Although
for them to perceive just what the daring rider was do-

the moonlight was not sufficiently clear
ing,:one and all they were aware that something further
of a most unexpected nature was taking place. They
saw Beelzebub swerve and turn to the left, and perg
ceived that the Centaur-like rider was busy with his
hands.,

Three times Dick Merriwell circled the camp on the
back of that horse.
the ness wagon and came cantering up, leaping to the
ground with one hand fastened upon Beelzebub’s nos-
trils in such a manner that the creature’s wind was

practically shut off.
“Here,” he cried, with a snapping flirt of his hand—
“here’s your horse.”’ :

That snapping movement sent the end of the rope
flying in Squinty’s direction. _The cowboy caught it,
whistling shrilly through his teeth, a signal which the
captured broncho seemed to understand.

“Gents,” said Circus, “this yere performance reminds

me of the time I was a-doing horseback riding with
the time I’ve cireumnavi- |

Skinner & Fakemore. Many’s
gated the sawdust ring standing proudly erect upon the
backs of eight fiery, untamed Arabian steeds. I'll tell
you how it happened I got into that business, for it’s a

fascinating, interesting, and tumultuously thrilling

9

tale. |

Z f
“This yere beats
-Squinty, I opine

“Shut up!” commanded Turner.
any circus performance on record.

you've been bluffing us all about the dangerous char-
It ‘pears to me the

acter of that thar cayuse of yourn.
critter is as tame as a Maltese kitten.”
“Pard,” smiled Buckharts “I’ve been waiting for you
some to partake of this sumptuous repast. You .were
; ” a

bellowed Bill

{ .
Then he headed'the animal toward.

  

 

 
 
 
      
       

    
  
  
 

 

   

food and thick coffee.

 

_ this,

  

TIP. =fOP

longer about bringing in that pony than I “lowed
you'd be.” .

“The animal was rather said
Dick; “but I found him extremely gentle and tractable
after he felt my rope.”

Bill Horn burst into a roar of laughter.

shy and obstinate,’

“Gents,” he cried, “it’s my judgment that this yere

tenderfoot ain’t nigh as tender as wé took him to be.”

 

: CHAPTER IV.
THE OLD CIRCUS MAN.

“What are you going to do now with your horse,
Squinty?” drawled Bill Horn, as the little cowboy sulk-
ily returned after caring for his captured pony. “You
know you said you’d give the critter to anybody what

— could ride him.’

“That’s right,” said Buckhart, looking up from his
plate of beans and bacon., “According to your own pro-
posal, the horse belongs to my partner now.”

’

“In that case,” said Dick, who was not displaying
any daintiness over his plate of food, “T’ll have to de-
cline to eos for the pony isn’t spirited enough to

“suit me.’

And Squyinty was the only one on whose ears these
words fell who did not chuckle or laugh outright.

“It’s my judgment,” muttered. Turner in the ear of
Jim, the cook, “that the tenderfoot will do.”

,

“It’s mine,” returned Jim under his breath, “that he
ain’t no tenderfoot whatsoever.” |

Tt was plain that both the boys relished the plain
True, Merriwell seldom drank
coffee, but on this occasion he disposed of a brimming.

dipperful. Despite his recent performance, there was

_ nothing of swagger and braggadocio in Dick’s manner.

Indeed, he was quiet and reserved, and Bill Horn ad-
mitted that the youngster’s style was “a-plenty satis-
factory.”’

‘With their appetites satisfied, the two lads sat listen-

ing to the desultory conversation of the cowboys, .

Later on they were given blankets and told to pick their

ie: beds anywhere they pleased in the whole of outdoors,

Circus, longing for some one to whom he could talks,

“ diplomatically joined the boys.

“Tt has been many a long and weary season since I’ve

last seen anything in the way of a surprise party like
“It reminds me of old days. It’
reminds me of the time when I towered the country

” he observed.

us

most under the animal’s feet.

   

WEEKLY. 7

with Skinner & Fakemore’s mammoth circus and colos-
sal aggregation of wild beasts of the jungle. It makes
me recall with fluttering convolutions of the chest those
days when I used to ride the circus trick mule. You
know the game. The ringmaster cracks his whip and
the little mule prances around the ring and kicks up his
heels. Then the ringmaster announces that the mule is
a most vicious and- dangerous beast. and offers a re-
ward to any one who will ride him, One of the bare-
back performers tries it and is bucked off. The clown
prances out, and the mule chases him from the ring.
“At that stage of the game I always made my ap-
pearance. I was inevitably seated among the specta-
tors, dressed as a Reuben from the back pastures of
Joshua County. I had on overalls, long-legged boots,
an old cotton shirt, and a straw hat with a hole in it.
I was-always chewing a straw. I used to rise up and
announce that I was a candidate for that reward
money, by gum! Then I'd climb down over. the heads
and shoulders of the spectators, fall sprawling, and get
up and stagger into the ring as if carrying a cargo suf-
ficient to swamp the Lucania. Of course, the ring-

‘master objected. Of course, he warned me, and de-

clined to take any responsibility.

“Meanwhile the mule, with a vicious look in his left
optic, waited patiently for me to get near enough to
have my brains kicked out. When I reeled gracefully
onto the sawdust, that little beast promptly proceeded
to come after,me, Then [’d squeal with terror- and.
take flight round the ring, with the mule reaching for
me with his well-manicured front teeth. The audience:
always howled with delight over the spectacle.
ringmaster always cracked his whip at the mule and~
shouted in a pretense of driving the creature away and
saving my life. . Eventually I would gracefully catch:
the toe of my right foot behind my left ankle, and do.
a parabola stunt on my ear. The mule used to reach ;
down and get me by the seat. of my-trousers, which 3

were reénforced by a leather patch, and shake me like

a bartender shaking up a cracked-ice cooler for a thirsty-
patron, When he dropped me, I would scramble out.
of the ring.on all fours, and the crowd never failed «
to howl itself into bronchitis. . | eee

“But that wasn’t the end of it, you. hectare f -was ni
mad—oh, yes, I was so blazing mad that I was. vio-
lently vexed. I used to shake my fist at the mule and

“vow vengeance, while the ringmaster. excitedly urged

me to hasten my escape. Three or four times I’d at-
tempt to get back into the ring, with the mule always — "
waiting for me, and then I’d fall and roll down al-~
While the co tales "

The © e 7

 

  
       

             
  

     
 

 

 

   

TI?

 

for the purpose, seemed to be trying to walk all over
me, I’d crawl to my pins, project myself suddenly upon
its back, with my head toward its tail, lock my feet
around its neck, grab my arms around its body, and
away we'd go once more. This time, of course, I rode
the mule with supercilious success, or words to that
effect.

“Oh, those were salubrious days!
gone to return no “more. Pardon me while
pearly teardrop from my eye with this ten-dollar silk
handkerchief—ten dollars a gross.”

By this time Dick had discovered that. Circus was an
interesting character, and straightway he went about
drawing the man out. There was. no need of this,
given a single attentive listener,

Alas! they have
I brush a

however, for, the
lanky, sad-faced puncher would talk until his vocal
cords were paralyzed.

“How did you REEDED to get into the cowpunching
business ?”

!

“Ah, it is only one of the numerous and unnamable
I have ventured since the good
I’ve tried my

vocations into which
old palmy days of the road circus.

*prentice hand at almost everything, and made a noble «

failure of everything I’ve tried.”

“What’s your name, if you have no objections. to
giving it? I trust you will understand that I don't
mean to be offensively inquisitive.”

“Fear not that I should misunderstand you, my boy.
These men call me Circus, but that is only one of the
many cognomens I’ve borne in my adventurous career.
On the record books of Dusenberry, my natal village, I
am recorded as. Ebenezer Q. Duck. What the Q
stands for I never learned even from my thoughtless
parents. There was a time, however, that I was known
as Signor Dorando, the great bareback rider.”

‘ “Then you've really done bareback riding with a
circus ?” | oe
“Ay, ay, even so. I have astonished and appalled
gaping multitudes by gracefully posing on one toe,
planted near the roots of a madly galloping horse’s
tail. I have ridden eight horses abreast, proudly deco-
rated in pink tights and
that is, myself, not the arees lve heard the delicious
playdits of innumerable throngs, yet I must confess
ha of my own natural skill I never could ride a cir-

-. cus horse ten feet, and stand upon its back without

constant danger of arising directly with a broken ver-
-tebra, from the ground. It is perchance an interesting
’ tale of how I came to do this stunt.
‘Then listen while I navigate—I mean narrate.”

TOP

glittering golden spangles—

W ouldst hear it ?

  

WEEKLY.

CHAPTER Y.

THE EQUILIBRUM BELT.

“I joined my first circus as a That is,
it was my duty, along with other poor devils, to pitch
the tents, take them down, pack them, and care for
It was beyond question a life
but not fora

Canvas Man.

them in transportation.
suitable for a yaller dog, human being.
Still, thrilled
me and lured me, and, once it got its grasp upon me,
I never was able wholly to shake it.

the fascination of the circus had always

“From the first it was my fixed, set, undying design
to become a pyrotechnic performer upon an ebullient
equine in the sawdust ring. I remember myself, even

as a tender, innocent kid, with a handkerchief-neglected

nose, standing awe-struck before a gaudy dy-colored bill-
board circus poster, representing a daring gent poised

upon the pet corn of his big toe, which barely touched
the back of a wildly galloping, coal-black horse, and
do that
gentlemen and

vowing unto myself that some day I would
same stunt. The pictures of supple
ladies projecting themselves through burning hoops
always thrilled me to the marrow of my being. I even
admired with unfathomable enthusiasm those careless
persongy who were pictured clinging by their eyebrows
to swinging trapezes hundreds of feet in the air. To
me such a career had far more allurements than that
of the greatest statesman who ever rose from rail-
splitting obscurity and was swept upon the tidal wave
of popular political approbation through the welcome,
yawning doors of the White House. It may have
been a defect in my mental mechanism which made me
have such queer but, alas! had I been given
I would have selected the life of a circus

thunks ;
my choice,
star in preference to warming my lateral regions upon
a Presidential chair or the throne of a king. ;
“Hence, having spliced myself fast to a real circus,
I began to look forward to the time when I ‘could ac-
quire the necessary skill to become a performer in the
ring, and on every, occasion when opportunity offered
I sought to practice bareback riding. Boys, I tell you
with the utmost concern that it is one of the marvels
of modern times that, considering the feats I valiantly
attempted, I was not soon tucked gently away beneath
the blooming daisies. It is unspeakably wonderful
that I did not issue from some of those attempts with
a compound fracture of my spinal column, somewhere
between the roots of my hair and the level of my shoul-
der blades. A hundred times, at least, I was dropped
to meet the: cold, firm, unresponsive earth, which
“seemed to rise with shocking » violence and sniite me

     

 
 

       
    
   
  
  
  
  
   
  
   
   
  
  
   
  
   
    
  
   
  
     
  
   
      
   
  
  
  
  
  
   
   

  

TIP

 

hip and thigh. At one time I had so many bruises
scattered over my exterior anatomy, that, happening
to see me stripped to the waist, the side-show manager
offered to put me on exhibition as the tattooed man.
‘Alas! for my imperishable ambition,’ I never could
seem to get the knack of riding upon a circus horse,
Of all inse-

cure, slippery, treacherous things, the back of a gal-

either standing on my feet or my head.

loping circus horse is certainly the most treacherous.
“My bump of obstinacy, developed by several con-
cussions in that locality acquired by falling from these
insecure equines, kept me at it with pertinacious per-
sistency until I became the standing joke and jest of
the entire circus, from the pink-lemonade man up to
Signor Dorando, the most marvelops of bareback rid-
ers, They joshed me on every and all occasions. Doz-
ens of times each per annum day they would inquire
if the manager had not engaged meas one of the star
ring performers. They applied to me the obnoxious
nickname of Signor Tumbleheels. They pierced me
to my quivering heart with the derisive finger of
scorn. But the more they rubbed it in, the deeper be-
came my determination to conquer.

“Now, although I may not betray it by my outward
seeming, I am naturally of a scientific and inventive
turn of mind. Doubtless, had I given my attention to
matters of science and invention, I would to-day be
famous all over the terrestrial globe as a man of mighty
intellect. and acumen. I presume beyond question that
my ambition to become a circus performer robbed the
world of one who would have readily put Tom Edison
to shame.

“In those days electricity was a force far more un-
fathomed than at present. Magnetic attraction was a
deep and yawning problem. Nevertheless, I had
learned a few things concerning it, and one day, while
meditating upon some method of acquiring the skill I
so ardently desired, I was smitten, smotten, or smutten
by a hilarious, happy thought. It dawned upon me
like a flash of calcium light that electricity might, be
employed to preserve the equilibrium of one who found
himself unstable upon insecure or swiftly moving
Straightway I set at work-manufacturing a
magnetized belt of steel links. At this task I worked
whenever I could find a spare moment, and eventually
the feat was accomplished. .

_ “Tn spite of my marvelous genius in electrical fiat-
ters, I will confess that I have a most obscure knowl-

bodies.

edge of technical terms, yet this matter may become

somewhat plainer to you when I explain that the op-
posing links of that belt were polarized and depolar-

TOP

 

WEEKLY. 9
ized. That is to say, those links were alternately elec-
tro positive and electro negative. In this manner I
obtained the most perfect conservation of force known.
The buckle of the belt was carefully constructed, like a
miniature combination lock, to which there was no key,
but which could not be opened unless the manipulator
knew the combination. I was working upon the dia-
metrical convaluscent theory that such a“belt would
produce and maintain perfect equilibrium in whatever
upright body it horizontally encircled.

“One night I found an opportunity to test my theory
upon the centre pole of- the tent. The. performance.
being over, I, with others, set to work to pull down
the tent, preparatory to moving on to the next town.
The pole near its foot was aboutethe size of my own
waist. At this point a fold of canvas was wrapped
about it for some purpose of which I do not now re-

member the nature. Getting a good chance and mak-

Ss
ing sure that I was not observed, I buckled my equi- ,

librium belt around the pole and pulled the ‘canvas
down over it so it could not be perceived. Then I
awaited developments. f |
“Gents, what followed astounded every beholder,

with the possible exception of myself, whom it filled

‘with unspeakable triumph and magnanimous elation.

When the canvas had been stripped down and the pole

was left standing, with only the lorig guy ropes to hold

it in place, we canvas men got int position to lower it

after the usual custom. The ropes on one side were

loosened in order that it might lean in that direction, ,
while a dozen brawny fellows held fast to, the ropes

upon the opposite side; but, as I am naturally a truth-

ful nian, that pole declined tq lean. She wouldn’t even

quiver.

“After a time the foreman gave orders that some of

us should pull her over and get her started, while the

others held fast at the opposite extreme and lowered °

her. We pulled according to instructions, and it took
considerable strength to drag her out of a perpendicu-
lar, upright position, Even then she refused to fall,
and we had to keep on pulling. But what was the most
astounding was the fact that the nearer we drew her
topmost end down to earth the harder we had to pull.

Before long the entire crew was over on one side pull-

ing and straining with every ounce of strength to lay

that pole prostrate, while the foreman was dancing and

cursing a blue streak, with his eyes bulging out like
glass doorknobs. It must have appeared to everybody.
that the centre pole was everlastingly bewitched. _

“But wait—wait and you shall hear the most mare

velous and astounding marvel of all. Even when we,

4 x any)

M

  
  

 

 

 

 

  
 

 

    
   

    
  
  
  
   
     
  
   
  
   
  
   
  
  
   
  
   
  
  
  
  
  
  
   
   
  
  
  
  
   
 

10 oD Ee TP

had finally succeeded in dragging that pole prostrate
upon terra firma, it was persistently disinclined to re-
main in that position, striving with concentrated de-
termination to rise again and stand upright. It was
necessary for six or eight of the heaviest men to get
astride the thing and hold it down. In a moment of
carelessness, all these men except two stepped off and
relaxed their holds somewhat. Immediately the air
was rent in tatters by wild yells of terror. The pole
was seen to rise suddenly, carrying those two unfortu-
nate victims clinging to its topmost tip. Gracefully
its upper end rose until it pointed straight at the ze-
nith. Fortunately, the men who had clung to it did not
relax their holds, and were able to slip down to the
ground, one after the other, where they arrived tee-
totally unharmed, but with every. hair standing vigor-
ously upon its hind legs.

“The foreman danced and frothed and filled me with
terror, for I apprehended that he was about to have
a hemorrhage, and I did not wish to be responsible
for his sudden demise. That the devil had got into
the pole every ote seemed to believe. Never before in
the history of the world had a circus pole behaved in
such a scandalous, unmanageable manner. I knew,
however, that my theory was demonstrated and proved
a success, and in the midst of the excitement I slipped
forward to the pole, reached beneath the shielding can-
vas which hid my equilibrium belt, manipulated the
combination, and removed the marvelous invention.

“Barely had I accomplished my surreptitious pur-
pose when that pole started to fall.

 

se ‘flight. I dodged away, secreting the belt upon my per-
_ son as I did so, and a moment later our centre pole lay

gee, the instant I removed, the belt the force of equi-
is Seta was destroyed ay the pole fell.”’
“Marvelous, indeed,” grunted Buckhart. |
“Go on,” laughed Dick. “You started in to tell how
- ot became a bareback performer.”

“Tt gives me almost sacrilegious gratitude to note
bat my truthful tale has been received with attention
and ‘without | the usual scornful derision,” murmured
5 beriezer Duck. “It encourages me to. continue unto
the finalend. oe
“Of course, we had to procure snother centre pole

  

  

 

‘main theme of conversational converse. ‘No one un-
derstood it, which, as you must know, was not at all
surprising. | ei om bil aor a hugged - —

 
 
 

 

over the situation.

tights and spangles, purchased with the money I had ;
mang ged to save out of my meager, emaciated wages. =f

Down she came,
causing every one to utter yells of warning and take

prone upon the ground, bfoken and splintered. You:

_ running out and stood looking at me, evidently expect.

for. the main. tent, and for some days thereafter the

astonis| 1ing performance of the original pole was the
ee occasion.

WEEKLY.

 

librium belt to my bosom. I simply lay low and bided

thy hour, which I felt certain would be a time of colos-

One day Mademoiselle Aeriel, the tight-

rope walker, was taken ill and could not do her usual

stunt in the presence of the gaping multitudes gath-

ered to watch her in the open air outside the tent. This é
was a free show, calculated to whet the appetites of the
accumulated rustics and lead them to alacriously part

with their slips of yellow pasteboard
which would admit them to the main, show.
one of the features most extrenuously advertised, and
the proprietor was greatly disturbed and distressed
Unless some one could be found
to fill Mademoiselle Aeriel’s s place and risk his or her
neck upon the tight rope, the crowd would get cagey, — f
and a great many of them must come to regard the
whole show as a fake, which would prevent the ticket
sellers from gathering in their shining shekels and bilk-
ing them right and left while making change.

sal triumph.

mazuma for
It was

“One after another the regular performers were ap-
pealed to, but no one seemed willing to risk his neck
on the tight rope. Then I volunteered. My offer was
received with unspeakable obnoxity. The manager
passed me a left-hand body jolt, and the proprietor at-
tempted to project me into the next county with the
toe of his boot. Nothing daunted, I hastened away to —
the dressing tent, shed my togs, and got into some

 

About my waist I locked the equilibrium belt, conceal-
ing it beneath a scarlet sash. \ Just as the outside —
barker was announcing that Mademoiselle Aeriel was |
ill and could not appear and the crowd was beginning
to murmur and gr owl, I cantered forth, hoisted myself —
to the tight rope by means of the appliance used for
that purpose, and, balancing pole in hand, ventured
forth upon the slender, swaying thread. pre.

“The crowd saw me and beg#n to shout and point, | i hie
The barker saw me and checked his statement with his
jaw drooping and his mouth in perfect alignment to
act as a flytrap. A few of my circus comrades came

 

 
       
 
 

ing to see me topple from the rope and fall to the |
ground with a broken neck. While they gazed, I
prane ed forth gayly upon the rope, gaining confidence
with each passing moment, for I felt myself upheld
and°sustained by the same invisible force which had é
operated upon the centre aes of the main tent upon a. eS

 
 
    
  

  

 

      
  
 

    

\

  

“After a little, growing bolder and more confident,
I oe aside the balancing a: ae it to the

   
 

 

  

EER ATOPY

ground. Then away I went cantering up the incline
of the rope over the top of the big tent toward the
point from which the centre pole extended. Reaching
that point, I turned back and came sliding down the
incline. Finally, midway between the two points from
which the rope was extended, I sought to duplicate the
usual stunts of Mademoiselle Aeriel, throwing in a
few graceful little variations and decoctions of my
own. ;

“When I had completed the exhibition to my entire
satisfaction, I returned to the starting point and swung
myself down to the ground, where I was received
with open arms by the manager and proprietor, both
of whom fell on my bosom and shed tears of joy, for
already crushing throngs were crowding and fighting
around the ticket seller’s wagon, each man apparently
afraid the tickets would give out before he could buy
one. \

“I had saved the day, and henceforth for a time my
lot was to fall in pleasant places. No longer was I to
sweat and labor and be cussed around with the rest
of the canvas men. I had Mademoiselle Aeriel skinned
an ocean league in the tight-rope performance, and for
some weeks thereafter we appeared together in coer-
cion, doing that little outdoor turn for the admiration
of the populace. My salary was raised from six dollars
a week to sixty, and I began to feel that I was on the
highroad to perspicacious prosperity.”

“But,” said Dick, as the narrator paused again,
“you have not yet told us how you came to get into
‘bareback riding.”

“Pardon, my impatient young friend. I am coming
to that. One day Signor Dorando missed his cue, fell
from the back of his horse and fractured his interior
organism to such an extent that he set forth for a voy-
age into unknown regions within the hour. As he was
one of our chief advertised performers, his careless-
ness cast a pall of gloom over every one and threw
the manager into such a state of depression that he
forgot himself and took seventeen drinks within the
‘brief space of a passing hour. As he usually. required
only ten drinks in sixty minutes to keep him salubri-

ously elevated, the effect of the extra seven was per- |

nicious. Without exaggeration, I may say that he

was slightly ititoxicated. I found him weeping and be-

moaning his luck while the boys were pulling down
the tents and preparing to hoist anchor and set sail for
the next ‘town.

“Straightway I gallantly came to his rescue. I of-

fered for a hundred dollars a week additional to\ge
on as; Signor Dorando and duplicate his marvelous

’

 

WEEKLY@ II
equestrian feats. Had the manager been perfectly
sober, I doubt if he would have taken any stock in my
ability to make good. In his mellow condition he ac-
cepted my terms without faltering.

“At the afternoon performance of the following day,
when the ringmaster announced Signor Dorando, I
came forth from the dressing tent upon the back of a
proudly prancing horse. Once around the ring I rode,
sitting astride, then I jumped to my feet and stood up-
right. I rode poised upon one toe. I rode in all sorts
of impossible ways. I rode guiding eight horses and
leaping from one to the other without once slipping a
cog. Nothing Dorando had ever done feazed me in
the least, and the thunderous applause of the, congre-
gated people was like sweetest music to my ears. From
the humble, mocked, and derided Tumbleheels, I had
risen to be the star of the circus.

“But, alas, for human failings! Even’ though my
companions among the performers pretended the great-
est admiration, I was aware that many of them were
filled with the most*rankerous jealousy. I came to
know that they ‘were plotting and conspiring against
me. J became aware of the fact that I was constantly
watched and spied upon.

“One day as I was dressing, Fenelon, the trapeze
man, known as the Human Bird, picked up my belt

, and attempted to buckle it about his body. I snatched

~

 

it from him with a ery of anger, and we exchanged a
few acrimonious words. Henceforth Fenelon seemed
to suspect that in some degree the cause of my success
lay|in that belt. Again and again he tried to get pos-
sesgion of it. I had to guard it night and day.

“One day I saw him peering from behind some cur-
tains and watching me as I worked the combination, —
and removed the belt after my regular performance,
A little later I changed the combination, although it
now seems a piece of folly that I did so. It proved a
frightful disaster. Upon the following day I donned.
the belt as usual, but when I came to remove it, I
found that I had forgotten the new combination.
couldn’t take the thing off. I worked over it a long
time, and finally gave it up.

“Now comes the sad and harrowing part of my nar-
rative. As long as I wore that belt I had to remain in —
an upright position. I couldn't lie down. If I tried

to do so, the belt promptly jerked me back in an up- — .

right attitude. Imagine my predicament if you can. |
In due time I became weary and wished to sleep, but it
‘was impossible for me to recline for the purpose of
slumber. For seven dreadful days I wore that belt

oS

   
 
 
   
  
 
  
  
  
  
   
  
   
   
  
   
   
  
  
   
  
 
  
  
  
   
   
  
  
    
    
   
  
   
   
   
  
  
   
  

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

constantly, and I was compelled to do my sleeping
standing up.

“The horror of it got on my nerves, and) at last I
began to realize that my mind was giving way before
the cantuminous strain. I had fallen to talking to my-
self, aad at times I caught myself laughing in a man-
ner that made me sudder and turned my blood cold.
My companions grew afraid of me and kept away.
This angered me and made me long to rend them limb
from limb. I nearly throttled the proprietor when he
came round and suggested
tendance of a physician. I knew if the thing kept up
much longer that I would commit a terrible'crime, and
therefore I resolved to get that belt off, somehow. The
work was finally accomplished with the aid of a file.
In that manner I cut through the thinnest point of a
steel link and fell prostrate and exhausted the moment
the job was done. I slept right where I fell until they
aroused me in a decidedly violent manner.

“The next day I spliced the belt with stout wire
when it came time for me to adjust it in order to go
forth upon the tight rope with Mademoiselle Aeriel.
But alas! in filing it apart in that manner, I had some-
how destroyed the magnetic qualities which it pos-
sessed. When I lifted myself to the tight rope I had
no mystic force to sustain me and maintain my equi-
librium. I did not take three steps before I lost my
balance and fell, They picked me up with a broken

that I should have the at-

collar bone and three badly damaged ribs: For a long.

time I lay in the hospital, while the circus went on its

route without me.

“When I had thoroughly recovered, I once more set
about the work to restore that belt, but I was unable to
accomplish the task. In my original invention I had
united certain forces of which, I presume, I, really

_ knew very little, and never again was I able to bring
- them into cohesive action.
hundred and thirty-seven equilibrium belts, but not a
~. darned one of them would equilib. |

Since then I’ve made two

Perchance you
have wondered at the look of sadness and sorrow and

deep disappointment which sits enthroned on my
- chastened, classic countenance.
understand its cause.”

With a sigh, Ebenezer Q. Duck rolled over upon his

A back and lay gazing mournfully at the twinkling stars.

 

CHAPTER VL

THE SUSPECTED MAN,

Brad was laughing heartily : the oremas ap
a} proached

@eIP TOP

If so, you will now

WEEKLY.

“I presume,” said the latter, “that Circus has been
entertaining you with one of his stretches of imagina-
tion,”

Duck sat up, giving Smith a sad look of disapproba-
tion.

“It’s my misfortune,” he murmured dolefully, “to
have fallen among calloused and unsympathetic men,
whose mundane minds are too narrow to accept the
barest and most unvarnished of my reminiscences as
truthful.
row which fate hath cast upon my

Their doubts have added to the load of sor-
shoulders. . Speak-
ing of the past has filled me with such painful memo-
ries and regrets that I would retire by myself and
meditate in solitude.”

Saying which, he lifted himself slowly to his feet
and, sauntered away.

“An odd character, Cyclone,” said Dick.
tainly is the possessor of a lurid imagination, but I
should think the men would find amusement listening
to him.”

“They get tired of it,” said the foreman. “TI pre-
sume it must be more or less interesting for strangers.
If you’d let him, he’d talk you to death. I thought

you might be tired and wish to get a little sleep, so I

butted in.”
Already nearly all the cowboys had rolled them-
selves in their blankets.
“We shall be moving early in the morning,” said

Smith, “Do you want to go out with the bunch,
boys?” 3

“Sure,” answered Buckhart; “that’s why ‘we're
here.”

“All right. Some of the men will take turns guard-
ing the camp. We’re too strong for the rustlers to
bother us, so you can rest easy.

For some time after that Brad and Dick lay there
talking in low tones. The stentorian breathing of the
sleepers came to their. ears.
night some prowling wild creature sent forth its cry.
The heat, which had been so oppressive during the day,
became rye somewhat by a breeze.

Good night.”’

“You've always mixed me up more or less concern- |

ing the locality of the Bar Z, Brad,” said Dick.
“How was that?”

“Well, at times you talked about the Panhandle

country, and at other times you called yourself the |
Unbranded Maverick of the Pecos.
the Bar Z is situated between the Pecos and the seh W

Grande, and the Panhandle i is hundreds of miles away.’
The. Texan chuckled. .

“You shouldn’t mind such little things, set se

Fie OE ae

“He cer=

Occasionally far off in the ,

 
    
 
 

I find now that

 

 

 

 
 

   

 

      
     
LIPS Or

the Panhandle country I
Texas, Out here four or five
hundred miles is not much of a distance, after all.
Calling myself the Unbranded Maverick of the Pecos
was simply a little whim. It sounded good to me, and
. so when thoge chaps at school thought I ought to
a‘: swagget and blow off steam considerable, I invented
, that expression to satisfy them. 1 presume we were a
somewhat unwelcome addition to this bunch. I knew
the aversion of the \punchers to tenderfeet, especially
on an expedition of this sort, and that’s why I was
anxious for you to show right away that you weren't
as tender as they fancied. You've got the fastest horse
on the Bar Z, and so I knew you could run down
-Squinty’s, Beelzebub. I chanced it that you would be
able to rope the pony and bring it back, but I hardly
expected you to ride the critter in such a hurry.”

“The horse wasn’t as bad as I expected,” said Dick.
t “T had to throw it twice. The second time it was sen-
‘sible enough not to try further tricks., Evidently the
creature knows what it means to be roped.”

“When I spoke of
of course,

said.

imeant all

 

a a

Be ae citing

fe “T reckon you’ve made an enemy of Squinty. Pres-
sd ton at the ranch is some suspicious of that gent, and
that’s why he wanted me to tell Cyclone Smith to ee
an eye on Squinty.”

“You haven’t told Smith.”

“Not yet, but soon.
. * about it to-night, and to-rnorrow I'll find an opportu-
nity to hand him a little conversation on the q. t. As
far as I can find out, this man Squinty is a first-class
puncher, but unpopular. You can understand how that
happens, having seen something of him.”

“Preston may be prejudiced.”

“Just what I’ve thought myself, pard.
Eee comparatively new man on the Bar Z, having been
cee ie with us less than three months. In that brief time,
| nevertheless, he has succeeded in getting himself gen-
i erally disliked. Still, he does his work, and appears
74 fe >! faithfel. and loyal. Even Preston could not tell just
|. why he was suspicious of the man nor just what he

ee: , : i :
SESS SSE ES OS ERY Re aaa

 

suspected. It may be that Preston is jealous.”
“Jealous?”
af “Ves.”

'“Why should he be jealous?”
-“T am told that when Squinty came to the Bar z,

  

 

‘Lopez, was living there with his daughter, Anita.
Anita, although only fourteen, was a little witch of a
: girl, and she had half the bunch crazy ovet her, Pres-
ton in particular. Every time she looked at a man
with her dark eyes the gent had heart disease, She

 

WEEKLY. 13

ina while one of the patrol riders is found shot full of

There’s no use bothering ey

hadn’t had his daughter for SaREnY, Lopez would —

Squinty 19:

is simply prejudiced against ee on account of the

able ways.

0 f - men,.a! Mexican by the name of Manu 7 ,
Beene and , y A Re in their _pldnkets (Dick was awakened by some un-

known cause, and in a twinkling he became filled with

and w atching.

      
   
  
  
   
  
 
 
 
    
   
  
   
  
  
  
  
  
   
  
   
  
  
  
   
  
  
  
   
    

looked at Squinty a few times, and he went plumb mad.
Got to chasing her around promiscuous, and she be-
came afraid of him. Then Lopez mixes in some and
invites Squinty, vigorous and energetic, to keep away
a Anita. There were indications which pointed to

clash between Lopez and Squinty, and my father, see-
ing how things were moving, advised Smith to send
one of the two out on patrol duty. You remember
one occasion on which I told you how the cattlemen
down this way maintained a patrol to watch out that
their cows did not stray away careless over into Mex-
ico, escorted by Injuns or greasers. Well, Smith sent
Lopez out on the patrol, and told him to také Anita
along, allowing that was the simplest way to restore
peace and serenity around the Bar Z.”

“According to reports,’ said Dick, “this patrol
doesn’t seem competent to prevent cattle rustling.”

“When you come to cover a range of some hundred
miles along the. Mexican border with a few scattering
men, and expect them to keep rustlers from dropping
over into United States territory and running off cat-
tle now and then, you're up against a colossal proposi- —
tion. The patrol has cut down rustlers to a large ex-

tent, but las not been able to obliterate the evil. Once
holes, and occasionally one disappears completely, as_
if he had dropped off the face of the earth. It’s lone-
some business, and it can’t be called safe. \As-a rule,
men had just about as soon be condemned to a peni- ;
tentiary as sent out upon the patrol. I reckon if he ‘<
have jumped the job long ago.” i
‘Do you think it worth while to trouble the fore-

man with Preston’s suspicions? -Isn’t it likely that man

quarrel over the girl?” a

MTs, and on account of Squinty’ s mighty disagree- ‘
Still,
for joining this bunch.

   

I was somie glad to have an excuse —
It was better than loafing —

 
       
 

around the ranch doing nothing. I pee we'd bet-

    
 

ter take Cyclone’s advice, and sleep some.
An hour is two after they. had rolled themselves

   
       
      
     

a peentiar sensation of danger, Nevertheless, he lay

     

perfectly still, with ev ery sense on the alert, listening

         
    
   
   
    
   
   
  
  
   
     
  
    
  
   
   
  
  
  
  
   
 
  
 
 
 
  
  
  
  
 

 

/

Rey

TIP

  

A moving shadow like that of a tiny cloud drifted

slowly across his prostrate figure. Simultaneously he
heard the faintest sound, like a slow footstep, and then

he saw a man standing directly over him.

“Well,” said Merriwell quietly, “what do you
want ?”
“Huh!” grunted the man. “You must sleep light

I reckoned you'd be pttting it in some after your ride
from the ranch.”’

It was Squinty.

“T am a rather light sleeper,” said the Yale youth, in

the same quiet manner, “and I have a way of waking

- up when any one comes prowling around in my vicin-

ity. You haven’t answered my question.”

“Though I don’t consider it necessary any,’’ retorted
the cowpuncher sourly, “I'll explain for your eddifita:
tion that I’m taking my turn standing guard.”

“Ts that all?” murmured Dick. “Well, you don’t

need to pay particular attention to me.”

Squinty shrugged his shoulders, deigned no response,
and turned away, departing with the same stealthy
step.

“Tt’s plain to understand how a man of his habits
and disagreeablé personality can make himself ob-
noxious and an object of suspicion,” thought Merri-
well. “Nevertheless, he may be as square as.a brick.”
_ Ina short time Dick was sleeping again, and he re-
mained undisturbed until Jim, the cook, rose in the
hour before daybreak and started his fire. The night
“had passed quietly.

Having prepared breakfast in a remarkably short
time, the cook aroused the slumbering cowboys with his
vigorous calls to “turn out.” The men stirred in their
blankets, grumbling and growling, and in a short time

one and all were making a raid on the food and the

coffee prepared by Jim.

Breakfast over, the foreman gave certain instruc-
tidns to the listening men, following which the bunch
lost little time in rounding up and saddling the horses,

riding silently away from the mess wagon as a pink

flush rosé in the eastern sky.

By the time the full light of day had flooded the
- plain ee horsemen were mere vanishing does in the

 

FOE

WEEKLY.

gray distance, and, each man having carried enough
grub to suffice him at midday, the cook knew he would
see nothing more of them until nightfall, when they
would return to the mess wagon at the appointed place.

‘With languid deliberation Jim washed the frying
pan and tin dishes, stowed things away in a wooden
chest in the wagon, caught and harnessed the mules,
hooked them onto the wagon, and set forth toward the
west. All day long he traveled slowly toward a low-
lying range of the Diablos, making only one long halt
at midday near a slimy water hole. Late in the after-
noon he reached the springs at which he was to stop.
The pifion-covered foothills seemed near at hand, al-

though they were really some twenty miles distant.

The cook unharnessed the mules, watered and hob-

bled them, and turned them loose. Then he built a
fire and made preparations for supper while waiting
the reappearance of the bunch. In due time he saw
them coming.

They did not straggle in by twos and threes, as on
the previous night, but came in a body; and, as Jim
manipulated the frying pan and stacked a pile of brown
flapjacks, they thundered up to the mess wagon, whoop-
ing and yelling like Indians.

Only one man was missing, and this proved to be
Squinty.

company with Squinty, stated that they had separated

early in the forenoon and he had not since put eyes on

the sour, crabbed little cowpuncher.

CHAPTER VIL.
ANITA.

“Mebbe,” said Turner, as they were eating supper,
“Squinty,-he goes off by his lonesome looking for the
little greaser gal. ore getting some near the locality
of Lopez’s range.”

a Squinty goes monkeying around her,”
Bill Horn, “Lopez is liable to shoot him up some.”

But While they were talking in this manner Squinty
himself came riding his wearied pony leisurely into
camp. On being questioned, he acidly laid the blame of
the separation on Turner. W hy he had been aoe ed

about reaching the camp he did not state.

- Turner, who had set forth in the morning in

observed

 

  

Rie aaaee

 

 
     
     
     
     
     
    
nee

=

ly ie sl paces eto Sagan
ae ae ‘ >

_ hint or get myself magnificently disliked.

certain a peach, everything considered.

LE rae

Supper and pipes lighted, the men sat about

over
discussing the occurrences of the day. Dick listened

with interest to their quaint, drawling, dryly humorous

cotiversation. Although they had seen no sign of rus-
tlers, all were of the opinion that they were now in a
region where cattle thieves might be encountered any
day.

When the general conversation wanéd and the men
began to roll themselves in their blankets, Ebenezer
Duck again joined Dick and Brad and started in on
one of his characteristic yarns of circus life. The fore-
man cut him short, however, calling sharply to him and
bidding him let up.

“The gound of your voice may be music to your

own ears, Circus,” said Smith; “but to-night it proves

right annoying to me. I’m some desirous of sleeping,
and so I’ll thank you to. close the escape valve and shut

off the hot air.’

“That’s the way,” muttered Duck sadly—“that’s the
way whenever I find appreciative listeners to whom I
can reminisk, Somebody always rises up and howls
like a wolf. I suppose I'll have to take Cyclone’s gentle
Sorry it’s
impossible for me to continue this entertaining little
We'll

right here and mark it ‘continued in our next.

scrap of autobiography. have’ to break it off

4

Slumber had not closed Dick Merriwell’s eyes when
he heard the unpleasant sound of Squinty’s voice, and
discovered that the man was talking to Cyclone Smith.
Squinty’s words, although guardedly spoken, were dis-
tinct enough for Dick to get the drift of his statement.

“I talks none whatever before the bunch,” the puncher

‘

was Saying,

eee

for I knows if I do they riles mé up,some
a-joshing about the girl. Therefore Z waits until I gets
I have

been some suspicious of Lopez for a right long while.

this chance to speak with you alone, Cyclone.

To-day I thinks I’ll visit him, providing he’s at home.”

“And, of course,” put in Smith, “Anita was no at-

traction whatever.” ; Bt

9

“I’m not a-saying that,’’ admitted Squinty.

finds his dugout yonder in the hills, but I am some wise

 

ae

“She’s —
Well, I shakes ©

‘Turner and goes off by myself looking for Lopez. Fi:

  

WEEKLY,

 
 
  
   
  
   
 
 
  
  
  
  
   
  
  
  
   
   
  
   
  
  
    
  
   
   
   
  
  
   

about approaching it careless. “I leaves my horse and
takes up a position where | can watch the place con-

for

hitched outside, and I suspects -mebbe that Lopez has

venient, I observes a couple of saddled critters

callers. In this I’m none mistaken. After about two
hours, Lopez hisself comes out, along with a pair of
as onery-looking greasers as ever I clapped peepers on.
They stands outside in plain view and talks a bit vig-
orous. I sees them gesticulating and pointing, and
finally Lopez seems to say buenos dias, and they rides
off.

particular side remarks, and you’re welcome to figure it

Now, Cyclone, I’m telling you this without any
out any way you please. Lopez is the only greaser the
Bar Z has on its patrol.”

“What do you make of it, Squinty ?”

“Well, as you asks me, I'll own that I-reckons mebbe
Lopez has dealings with some gents he wouldn't care
to be seen talking with friendly and familiar.”

“You think him a traitor ?” | |

“Tf every man on the patrol does his duty; Castro
and his thieving bunch can’t operate successfully with-
out being detected and reported. It’s my judgement it
might be a good plan to watch Manuel Lopez some at-
tentive.”’

a9

“Perhaps you're right, Squinty,” said the foreman.

“T’ll take. the matter into consideration.”

Midnight had passed when the sentry aroused the
sleepers with the statement that some one was coming
mounted and riding hard. The faint sound of hoof-
beats drifted through the night, antl the approaching —
rider was soon seen. Straight toward the camp came
the unknown. The challenge of the cowboys was an-
swered by a feminine voice, and a few moments later oe
a dusty, foaming horse, beating a slender, dark-haired
By the

light of the moon Dick saw that the girl was decidedly ,

girl, stopped in the midst of the surprised men.

graceful and ‘really pretty.
“Tt’s Anita!” cried several voices.
“Where is Mr. Smith?” panted the Biel:
“Here, ‘Miss Lopez,” said the foreman, stepping for-

   

ward. Cae . “h

ay

         

ri She leaped from the back of the horse at once. The

   

animal stood with its head hanging, its sides ‘heaving

   
   

  

and every tint trembling.
   
   
  
   
  
   
   
   
      
  
   
  
   
  
  
  
  
   
  
   
  
  
  
   
   
   
  
  
 

 

    
   
 

 

=

 

had been seen there just before nightfall.

ordered to scatter and search for us.

  

AER TQ

“Mr. Smith,” said the girl, springing toward him,
“Castro is in the hills.”

“How do you know?”
Yes-

terday my father saw some suspicious-looking men, and

‘““We have seen him—seen him and his men.

fancied he was watched. This night immediately after
dark and before the moon rose, we left the dugout and
concealed ourselves near by with our horses saddled and
ready. My father believed we would have a visit from
the rustlers, and he was not mistaken. Shortly after
the moon rose several men rode,up to the dugout and
demanded admission. One of them must have been
Castro himself. Getting no answer, they smashed
down the door and broke into the dugout with their
weapons in their hands. They came out again cursing
frightfully with disappointment, Some one told them
in Spanish that my father and I must be near, for we
They were
“Then my father, fearing we would both be discov-
ered and captured, whispered instructions in my ear.
He told me he had heard from Crawford, the patrol to
the north, that an outfit from the Bar Z was coming and
would probably reach Pampa Springs this night. He
told me he would decoy the rustlers away, warned me
to keep hidden until he had done so, and then I was to
ride for these springs and report to you, if you were
here, I have always obeyed my father. I watched him
lead his horse some distance away in the shadows and
disappear. A few.moments later, mounted upon a pony,

he broke out into plain view, yelling defiance to the

rustlers. Away he went with them in pursuit and firing
upon him. .I don’t think he was touched. As soon as

they had disappeared I mounted my own horse, fol-

lowed a steep and dangerous path down into the lower
valley, and came here as fast as I could. Familiar with
the Diablos as he is, I feel sure my father had no

trouble_in giving those men the slip unless he was

wounded by their shots.”

-The girl’s story aroused the cowpunchers. Some

_ swore softly, while others expressed their feelings more
_ loudly.

_ “How many then did you see, Miss Lopez?” ques-

- tioned Smith. ! | | \

WEEKLY.

“There were seven of them. 1 took care to count
them.”

“And that must be Castro’s complete gang. There
are twelve of us, counting the cook and the two boys.
Without Jim we outnumber the rustlers. I opine there’s
none of us who would hesitate about meeting those
whelps.”

Immediately the men expressed themseslves as more
than eager to encounter Castro and his band.

“I opine we’re good for three times as many onery
greasers,” said Bill Horn.

“Sh!” hissed Turner. “Don’t forget the gal is
greaser.”

This filled Horn with confusion, and he retired pre-
cipitately.

“Boys,” said Smith, addressing the bunch, “you've
What. do

you say if we go into the Diablos without further de- |

had some sleep, and the horses are rested.

lay
They were ready. Even Jim was eager to go, but
the foreman objected to this.

“You'd have.to ride a mule,” he said, “and you

couldn’t keep with us. Besides that, you'd leave the
I think

the girl had better stay here with you. You can look

mess wagon and outfit alone and unprotected.

out for her.”

“No, no!” cried Anita. “I must go with you. I shall
show you the best way.”

“Having once served on the patrol myself,’ said
Smith dryly, “I have an idea that I know these parts
pretty well. However, Miss Lopez, if, you’re dead set
on wearing yourself out that fashion, of course we
can’t object. Nevertheless, your horse is plumb done
up, and that makes it inconvenient.” :

“T can ride double with some one,”’ she said. ‘When
his horse tires I can change. I must go with you. I
shall go even if I have to start on foot.”

“Then certain,” bowed Cyclone, “we can’t be ungal-
lant enough to let you foot it, and I presume there’ll be
several of the boys quite willing to take you double.”

“Sure,” agreed Bill Horn, having recovered his com- _
posure and stepped forward. “I opine most of us
would be willing to do that temporary or permanent.”

“You've spelt, Bill,” chuckled Turner. “Back up.’

  

 

 
 

you.

 

PEP “EOP

Brad Buckhart now advanced and spoke-to. the girl.

“Anita,” he said, “you remember me, don’t your”
-“Oh—oh, Mr. Brad!” she breathed in surprise. “Are
Why, I didn’t know that.”

“T sure am here,” laughed Brad, “ready to get into

you here?

this mix-up with those rustlers if we have the good luck
to find them. Let me introduce you to my college

chum and pard, Dick Merriwell. Dick, this is Miss

Lopez.”

The

moment their fingers touched Anita seemed to feel a

The girl put out her hand, and Dick took it.

strange electric thrill, and after looking for an in-

stant into Dick’s eyes, she turned her head and her eye-

lashes drooped.

“I’m glad to meet Mr. Brad’s friend,” she murmured.
“You see I call him that because when at the ranch
we speak of his father as Sefior Buckhart. Two or
three times I have heard Seftor Buckhart talk of letters
from Brad, in which he told much of Mr. Merriwell.”

“Saddle up, boys,” directed Smith.

Then he turned to Dick and Brad.

“We're liable to get into a warm mix-up with Mr.
Castro,” he said. ‘There may be more or less shoot-
ing. Perhaps you boys hadn’t better come along.” —

“Look here, Cyclone,” growled Brad offendedly,

“what do you take us for? You've seen a right good

bit of me, and you ought to know I’m not built of the:

stuff to stay behind when fhere’s prospect of real sport
like this.”

“But your friend

39

 

“You couldn’t keep him back unless you roped and
hobbled him. You can bet your boots he will be in the
ay

midst of it if there’s anything doing,

“All right,” said Smith, shrugging his shoulders and

it
turning away, “I'll get my pony. As you’re coming

along, you’d better saddle up immediately. .The boys

will be some impatient to get off.”

“Anita,” said Brad, “my pard and I can take care of
You will take turns riding double with us, if

that’s agreeable.”

“Thank you,” said Anita. “It’s most agreeable to
me.”’ ‘
Again she lifted her eyes until they met Dick’s, but

let her dark lashes droop immediately.

WEEKEY. 17
CHAPTER VIIL
A SURPRISING DISCOVERY.

For a time Anita rode behind Brad, but finally, in
order not to exhaust the horse, she changed and rode
with Dick. One of her small brown hands clung fast
to Merriwell’s belt, and at times they exchanged a few
words,

The men were strung out in a straggling squad,
Smith leading, for he knew the precise location of the
dugout for which they were bound, having once served
on the patrol. The rolling plains became more broken
as they approached the foothills of the Diablos. Slowly,
almost imperceptibly, the pifion-darkened mountain
drew near.

During that night ride through the channel of their
desultory spasmodic conversation Dick and Anita be-
came fairly well acquainted. He found her remark-
ably bright and intelligent for one who had seen so
few advantages and followed such a life. Her voice
was soft and full of liquid music, and she spoke Eng-
lish with just the faintest sort of an accent that gave

her words a peculiar charm.

It was not hard to understand why this girl should
prove fascinating to the men on the ranch.. Even Dick
felt a touch of the magnetism which she seemed to
radiate.

Although not quite fifteen years of age, Anita looked

to be two or three years older. She was-also one of

those marvelously self-reliant little creatures who have
a way of appearing extremely helpless and dependent at
times. True, this never happened except on such oc-
casions as some strong-armed member of the opposite
sex was at hand to demonstrate his gallantry, devo-
tion, and heroism.

How it came that this girl of the Southwest, with

her brief and limited experience, should understand that

most men are built of such stuff that they prefer the’
discreetly, clinging and dependent girl to the constantly.
self-reliant kind who always seem able to take care of —
themsglves in any situation may only be guessed. |
In times of peril Anita could be as cool and clear-
headed asa man, and this night she had ridden alone

from the mountain dugout to the cowpuncher camp *

 
   

a ™ Ae.

_ . ee
a pre CR RN TE re ape ey GOA INI

Prue eta TEED IG

    

  
   
  
   
 
  
  
  
  
   
   
    
    
  
 
   
    
   
   
   
   
 
   

upon the plains; but, talking with Dick on the return

journey, she seemed more like a child who might’ be
timid to the point of terror if left alone and unpro-
tected. And there seemed nothing of shamming or pre-
tense in this.

Naturally, she was somewhat worried for her father’s
safety, although she declared that he knew the moun-
tains well and was so clever gnd full of resourcees that
it did not seem possible he would en himself to be

trapped by the rustlers.

At last they were amid the foothills, and the barren-
ness Of the plains gave place to pifion-covered slopes.
In this gegion there chanced to be few of the vast chap-
paral thickets which cover other portions of Texas with
almost impenetrable jungles of tangled thorns and
branches and briers. Even mottes of live oaks with
their branches draped in funereal Spanish moss were
seldom. seen.. Once this land had been considered by

American cattlemen as barren, desolate, and unprofit-

 

able, but the success of Mexican raisers had finally in-

 

spired tlfe Americans to push into those regions to fol-

 

greater natural energy and improved methods, the
American had soon demonstrated. his superiority | Over
the Mexican Spaniard.

:

As had happened farther north sibel the small cat-
tlemen became first maverick hunters and later rustlers,
many of the scattered native cow raisers of the far
Southwest found it more profitable to pilfer from the
vast herds of the big ranchers than to carry on the cat-
And ¢o all along this
border land of the Rio Grande cattle rustling thrived, in
spite of rangers and vigilantes.

tle business in its former, style.

At intervals bands of
cattle thieves gathered below the river, crossed it se-

cretly on to American soil, made their forays and ran
__ off many head of beeves.

constant source of irritation to the ranchers, as well as
no inconsider able damage and loss.

 
 

ment of a patrol to watch for. raiding rustlers Was one
of their methods of guarding their property. The men

  
 

‘Sent out tipon patrol duty were always hardy, familiar
with: the ers Ww illing to live a ye existence, and.

TIP TOP

low the same adventuresome, precarious calling. With

These depredations proved a.

Therefore a number of ranchmen had handed to--
pets for the purpose of PO, and the establish-

3 surprised to come upon Squinty, who, with Ais rfl

   

WEEKLY.
supposed to be honest and trustworthy. To a degree
they had succeeded in cutting down the loss of their =|

employers’ cattle through stealing, -but it would have
required a large army to safeguard the entire border
line.
The morning sun was gilding the barren crests of the
higher mountains when the bunch from the Bar Z ar-

rived at the dugout of Manuel Lopez. They ap-

 

proached the place with due caution, which, however,
seemed unnecessary, for, although the door of the dug-

out was smashed and broken, they found no living

 

creature anywhere in the vicinity. The broken door
seemeéd evidence sufficient to substantiate the story of

Anita.

i
Nothing within the place had been molested. Al- i
though the dugout consisted of only one room, that |
room was unusually large and surprisingly comfortable.
The floor was covered with Navajo tugs. There were |
hand-made tables, chairs, and beds; There were cup- j .
boards and shelves for the. dishes, a small iron cook-
stove, some magazine pictures upon the walls, a guitar, |.
and a stack of music. Everything was scrupulously d
neat and carefully cared for. For the dwelling place 4°
of human beings, no dugout Merriwell had ever seen a
could compare with this in comfort and attractiveness. |
Here the men had breakfast, Anita doing the cook- 4
ing, with Merriwell and Buckhart showing surprising a
willingness to assist and serve. 4
Breakfast over, Smith took Brad aside and talked 7
with him for some time, while the men lounged and i”

oe

smoked their pipes and cigarettes. Finally Dick was

° .
called and told that the foreman and Brad were going

mB i.

   

   

out on a reconnoitring expedition. cat
. “We allow it’ s best to leave the boys here for ae ine sa
Atesiiae said Brad. “Smith and I have covered this ae
ae

region, and we know practically every foot of it. Maybe

eee i
Sa
oS

it will be a good plan for you to stay here with the es

  
 

   

Pe eR

others and make sure that the little girl is not annoyed. —

 
 

I opine the job won't be a heap disagreeable.’’

     
 

The rancher’s son laughed ps he concluded, but Mer. ;
riwell réfused to be disturbed by this jollying.

Not far from midday Brad ard the foreman were

 
      
 

4
{
i

 

ee

a ncn

as Kee

}
|
4
;
J
"
|

 
  
  

  
   
  

 

  

TEP DOL

across his knees, was sitting upon a bewlder apparently
waiting for them.

“What are you doing here?” demanded Smith.
“We left you with the rest of the bunch.”

“Yep,” nodded the wizened cowboy, rising. “I know
yer did, but it proves some unpleasant for me lingering
there. Not wishing to make myself unpopular by get-
ting into difficulty with Mr. Brad’s friend, I'decided to
pike out.”

. “Why should you have any difficulty with Merriwell,
Squinty ?” asked Buckhart.

The man twisted his face into a disagreeable grim-
ace.

“He sure becatme some gay and attentive with
Anita.
else much opportunity to talk with her.”

“Oh,

structed to look

He watches her persistent, not giving any one

is that it?” grinned Brad. ‘Well, he was in-
after her.”

“Squinty,” said | Smith, “you're old enough to know
better.

are right smitten on that same girl, but what do you

You're only. one of several in the bunch who
allow she wants of a lot of old has-beens? She’s too
young to fancy such back numbers. It’s natural she
should feel some interest in a chap like Merriwell, who
is nearer hér own age.”

Squinty did not seem particularly pleased with this
sort of talk. ’

“Mebbe,” h

sirous of fooling us she’d do some better being agree-

e growled, “if she was particularly de-
able to me.”

“Fooling us?”

SVepi"

“What do you mean?”

“Since I wanders off: by my lonesome I discovers
something interesting. My horse is picketed safe, and
I prowls around some on foot. Accidents gives me a
squint at a few gents who fancy themselves hid safe
and secure not far distant. If you gents want to look

that party over, all ee has to do is leave roe horses

and hoof it after me.’

“Who are they ?”

“Waal, they certain looks to me a heap like old
Castro and his gang.”

 

   

WEEKLY. 19

“Castro!” exclaimed Smith. “‘You don’t mean to
say you have located the rustlers?”

“T opine yes.”

“In that case you’ve certainly done something worth
while,”’ “Do we want to get a

look at them ?

declared the foreman.
Ask us.”’
“Come on,’’ invited Squinty.

He led them to a spot where they could leave their
horses hidden amid the timber. From that point they
climbed by a difficult route to a lofty wooded ridge,
which they crossed. On the far side of the ridge
they stole silently through the pifions and crept.at last
on hands and knees to a point from which they could

look down into a small open valley or pocket.

Down there a number of horses were grazing, and
some men were lounging about. All were armed, and
the most of them wore the picturesque dress of Mex-
icans. ‘Three of them were engaged in a game of cards ,
upon a blanket spread on the ground.

“Thar!’ whispered Squinty, with satisfaction. “‘T
judge them’s the varmints we’re looking fur.”

“There’s no doubt about it,’ breathed Smith.
“They're the rustlers.”

“Waugh!” grunted Buckhart. “If we only had the

99

 

boys here now

“You'd likely find some trouble getting down thar,”
said Squinty. “I dunno whar they enters this yere
pocket, but it’s a-plenty apparent that they didn’t ride
down into it careless from any old direction.”

Smith’s keen eyes were looking those men over.
Suddenly he whispered :

“That tall fellow yonder who is talking with another

‘
man must be Castro himself.”

“T. judge that’s ecorrect,” came from Squinty.

“Mebbe you takes a good look at t’other gent.”

The foreman did this and swore.
“By the everlasting!’ he exclaimed hissingly, “at
looks like Lopez!” ,

“Tf it ain’t, Lopez,” grinned Squinty viciously, “I'll

heat my hate. 7 oo :
“What do you think of that!’ murmured Buckhart.
“T says to you a short time ago,” murmured the lit-
tle cowpuncher, “that the gal would ’a’ been a’ heap

more sensible fooling us if she’d made it agreeable

      
    

    
           
   
   
 
  
  
   
  
  
 
 
  
  
  
   
  
     
    
  
    
     
  
 
   
  
  
    
   
  
 

eee hae

enough for me to linger with the rest of the bunch at
the dugout. Now you get my meaning.”

“As sure as shooting,” said Smith, “Manuel Lopez
is a traitor.”
“Of

course I’m right sorry for Anita, but it’s proper and

“As sure as shooting, he is,” agreed Squinty.
just that we stretches the neck of Lopez next time we
meets up with him,”

Smith backed away from the brink and sat upright,
his brow puckered into an ugly frown.

“That’s how it happens that we’ve been losing so

many cattle over this way,’’ he muttered. “Lopez
- Stands in with those cursed rustlers.”
“But,” said Squinty, also retreating, ‘he’s none

aware that we’re dead onto him.”

PSOE i eC a.

7 “What's the proper thing to do, Smith?” asked Brad.
hes “I know how to get into that valley,”’ said Cyclone.
“Apparently those whelps are settled there for to-day.
ae It’s up to us to get the bunch and drop down on them,
by which we can do,” .

They retraced their steps across the ridge, slid down,

 

by a short cut, and found their horses. Squinty kept
2¢ . ®
with them and produced his own horse from another

_ hiding place half a mile away. '

 

Back to the dugout they rode.

CHAPTER IX.
ANITA’S APPEAL,

But when the punchers entered the valley fully ex-
Q ~ pecting a deadly fight with the tustlers, they were
both disgusted and disappointed to. find that the men
4 they sought had departed. The valley was deserted.
_ However, the cattle thieves left a trail, and this was
At!
brought them out of the mountains upon the south,

taken up and followed with grim determination,

and at nightfall they found themselves upon the border

Oka vast barren stretch of sand dunes known as Dead
' Desert.
sw eeping and whirling and playing all sorts: of queer

Across this desert the, wind seemed forever _

pranks with the sand, which was gathered up in gr eat
i; clouds, whirled about in eddies like miniature water-
ft Spats, and moved and Shifted with such unceasing

itself,

WEEKLY.

persistency that the face of the desert was ever chang-
ing like the surface of a stormy sea.

In this desert the trail was obliterated and lost. The
men knew that waterless waste stretched away for
league upon league, and with night approaching there
was not one chance in a million of following and over-
taking the rustlers,

Disappointed and disgusted, Cyclone Smith turned
back.

The men of*the bunch had learned of Squinty’s dis-
covery concerning Lopez, and they agreed that there
was something coming to the treacherous Mexican.

The moon had risen, and its white light fell upon
the canvas top of the mess wagon standing within ten
rods of the dugout as. the party once more approached.
‘Jim was talking with Anita, but he heard the men com-
ing and got busy with supper the moment his hail was
answered. )

In silence they cared for their horses and gathered to
eat supper. The girl asked a few questions, but learned
only that they had failed to find the rustlers.

Supper was over and the men were smoking and
talking in groups, when a horseman rode boldly up

and dismounted.

It was Lopez, who was greeted joyfully by his

daughter. The Mexican was surrounded at once by

a number of men. He told a story of hot pursuit by

the rustlers, whom he had finally tricked, escaping,

however, only after a hard, wearisome, circuitous ride.
They permitted him to follow Anita into the dugout.
Then Squinty, examining the dusty, tired horse, called

attention to the fact that the animal bore a peculiar |

brand which showed evidence of having been burned
Then Bill Horn made the dis-
covery that he knew the pony well, having once ridden

over another brand.
it as his own until it stepped into a hole and lamed

“Which seems evidence enough,”
low tone,
but has been stolen,”’ '

They gathered in a crowd and held a low-spoken Hi
Only for the girl, there would have been —
It was

_ consultation,

i te . } oy) { ‘ ,
no hesitation about their course of action,
agreed, however, that Anita must be taken away. fers

  

said Turner, in a a *
“that this yere cayuse belongs t6 the Bar Zz, am

 

 

 

 

       
    
      
       
    
 

 

       
   
   
  

   
      
 

he meet Anita’s inquiring eyes.

 

 

 

  

TIP

It was Turner who walked into the hut and proposed
that Anita should start in company with three others
for the ranch,

“It’s none safe for her here at present,” said Turner.
“There’s no telling when we has it:hot and lively with

Jim,

The rest of us. stays‘here a while.”

them thar rustlers. Carter, and Squab will travel
with her.
that she had a mind of her own.
“T tive

When the rest go

Then Anita showed
“I’m not afraid,” she declared immediately.
here a long time with my father.
to the ranch I shall go if my father goes.”

Turner scratched his head.

“We seldom disobeys orders from Cyclone,” he said.
na the foreman of this outfit, and what he says
goes
(“Then why doesn’t he come and give his orders?”
questioned the girl.

Smith had seemed to shirk that task.
muttered Turner.

See-

“He has plenty other things to do,”

But he could make no impression on the girl.
ing this, he retired in disgust and reported.

One by one several of the men entered the dugout.
It was Squinty who took it on his shoulders to put a
few perplexing questions to Lopez. The Mexican an-
swered promptly enough, although he seemed to betray
certain hidden uneasiness.

Dick Merriwell had stepped inside, but not once did
Her manner of look-

ing at him gave him sych discomfiture that finally he

- retired.
She followed him outside at once.

He was surprised when she hurried to him and

: & grasped his arm with both her small hands.

“What is it, Senor Dick?” she demanded ‘in a vi-

brant whisper. “I know the men behave strangely.
_ Why, I cannot-tell, but there is fear in my heart. I’m
certain they mean harm to my father.

) well, don’t let them hurt my father,”

. He was seeking words with which to reply, ivheu >

the ranch.
struggle.
W ithout a sound Anita fished back, Dick Bebo's oft

  

TOR “WEEKLY,

_Sefior Merri-_ ;

i
there issued sound’ of sudden commotion from within + » give him a square show?’
There were loud cries and the noise of a .

      
  
  
     
  
   
    
  
  
   
   
   
   
   
  
 
 
  
  
  
  
   
  
  
  
  

21

The men had seized Lopez, bound his arms behind
his back, and forced him down upon a chair.

“Why do you do this?” cried the: girl. ‘What has
my father done?”

“We're plumb sorry for ye, Anita,” said Squinty;
“but your old gent has been ketched with a rustled and
rebranded cayuse in his possession. He’s been seen in
company with them cusséd rustlers., He’s a traitor.”
“It’s not true!” she almost screamed.
“Somebody take keer of her,” said Squinty. “Thar’s
a convenient tree just outside the door.”

He attempted to thrust the girl aside.

“Don’t touch me!” she panted. ““My father is inno-
cent! You shall not lynch him!”

“Go ahead, boys!” shouted Squinty, seizing her.

In another moment he felt himself grabbed by the
With a

snapping twist Merriwell sent Squinty sprawling at

neck, and the girl was torn from his hands,

the far side of the room,

1

 

CHAPTER

THE CAPTIVE AND HIS ESCORT.

The man came up instantly, wrenching forth a pistol,

but Brad Buckhart leaped upon him and twisted the
weapon from his hand.

“No, you don’t!” rasped the Texan.

Squinty frothed forth a string of oaths, which, how-

ever, were cut short by Cyclone Smith, who now took

full charge of affairs,

“Bottle up that language,’

and there was something in his low- -spoken, quiet man-

ner which caused the furious little co whoy to close up.

“Whatever course is pursued with r
said Dick Merriwell, ‘
lent hands on Anita.

gard to Lopez,”

, to knock the packing out of any person who touches the

‘girl. Lopez i is caught 7" cannot get away.

“That's proper,’ ’ nodded Smith,

a square show. He shall nee a chance to prove bis i in-

nocerice,”’

“Yah! * sneered Squinty, “You lias ae

 

’ the foreman commanded, 4

‘no one but a brute will put vio-
I don’t belong to this outfit, but,
_ though I may not last a great while, I'll do my: prettiest

Why not:

“ond he shall have

   

 

  
  
  
  
  

 
        
   
   
  

  
 

  
   
  
 
 
  

   

22 FILE

Cyclone, for you had evidence with your own eyes—
good enough evidence to hang him.”
Smith,

that things look a-plenty hard for Lopez. Nevertheless,

“Perhaps so,” admitted “I’m not denying
I judge the most of us are sormewhere near human,
and we've got some feelings for the little girl. There-
fore, I say Lopez shall be taken to the Bar Z and given
a square, fair deal. If any person present has any ob-
jections to raise, let him speak up.”

His eyes were fixed on Squinty, and somehow that
individual was suddenly cowed into silence. For a few
moments no one uttered a word, but finally, drawing a

long breath, Bill Horn said:

“I always backs up Cyclone. What he says goes

with me, and I reckon it goes with the rest of the

bunch.”
“Sure. Sure,” came from the men,

Anita clasped Dick’s hand, breathing her thanks.

“You

saved my father from being lynched, and I'll never

forget.”

“It was you who did it,’ she whispered.

e

Dick felt that she was’ giving him altogether too
much credit, for he realized that alone he could not
have prevented the lynching of Lopez.
who had settled the matter.

“All right, gents,” said Squinty sourly.
I stands with the rest of the outfit.

It was Smith

“Of course
All the
nobody ever puts paws violent on me and I forgets it.”

same,

Which was a threat aimed at Merriwell, who, how-
ever, seemed to ignore it.

Not,so with Brad Buckhart. Ere handing over
| Saicinty s pistol the rancher’s son said:

“Look here, you, if you do my pard any damage un-
derhand, I’ll have your hide for tanning leather, or
my name’s not Buckhart. Get that? Do you hear
me’warble? Think it over and digest it some.”

“Bah!” said Squinty.
heap inclined to talk.”
“Up to date,”
satisfactorily in backing up whatever’ remarks I’ve
, ventured to make.

“You're some young, and a
7 he, f
returned Brad, “T’ve ieee fairly

As the son of old man Buckhart, I

ERS _ pledge you earnest and sincere to put-my father after

you w ith every man anc d every influence he can sway if
. you carelessly poke at my roe hint regarding my pard.

  

LOP

WEEKLY.

A word to the wise is usually sufficient, but mebbe
you're some lacking in wisdom, though for your own
sake I hope not.” :

It was decided that for the present Lopez should be
Ey-

ery weapon was removed from the interior of the hut.

confined in the dugout and thoroughly guarded:

The men filed out, but Anita remained with her father,
whose bonds she released.

Smith. put Turner and Circus on guard, and every
one knew the captive would not have one chance in a
thousand of escaping if he attempted to make a break
for it.

Some of the men gathered for a consultation, but

Squinty sullenly withdrew and would have no part
in it.

After a time the foreman called Dick, Brad, and Bill

Horn from the others.

“Boys,” he said, “I have some doubts about our ever
being able to take Lopez through to the ranch with
this bunch without an accident happening to him. — It
would be a simple matter for some one to create a dis-
turbance and set up an alarm, which would give an op-
portunity to fill the Mexican with cold lead. It might
be a fake cry of rustlers, or anything of that sort, ‘The
men have a decided distaste for horse thieyes in gen-
eral, and especially for one who has played such a
treacherous double game as Lopez seems to have done.
I’m a heap sorry for the little girl.
that the greaser is escorted safely to the ranch, I have
devised a little plan, I’m going to trust you three to
take him through. I know I can rely on Horn,”
“Thank ye, Cyclone,” said the big cowboy,
“And I’m likewise sure,” continued Smith,
neither of you boys feel that Lopez should be let off
without proper punishment, even though you did not

wish to see him hanged before the eyes of the girl.

Um going to keep all the rest of the bunch out looking.

for rustlers a while longer. You three will take Lopez

and the girl back to the Bar Z, and you'll start early in

the morning. We'll have every arrangement made for

you to start and get off before the others fairly undér-

stand what’s doing. You shall have a pack horse, car-
tying sufficient provisions to last you until the ranch —

is reached.

Now, to make’sure |

“that

By taking the shortest ‘possible route we —

   

 

 

   

  
 

 
 
       
     
     
      
 

 

 

 
          
     
      
        
       
       
     
   
      

 
 
    
    
   
 
 
  
   
 
 
gg Bes Bo

covered coming here, you can get to the Bar Z in a little

more than a day and a half. Horn ought to know the
best and shortest course.”

“T opine I do,” nodded Bill.

“T know you'll treat the girl as decent as possible,
but don’t give her a chance to set Lopez at liberty.
Don’t let her fool you any.”

“We won't, Smith,” promised Buckhart,

An hour before daybreak Lopez, with his arms once
more securely tied, was quietly taken from the dugout
} and escorted to, the spot where the saddled horses and
Anita crept close to her
that

this was a move to insure him safety from the hands of

the pack animal waited.

father, trembling and fearful, although assured

 

No the punchers. The Mexican was hoisted astride

Bill Horn, with his rifle

a pony,
i, and the little party set forth,
1. in his hands, riding a rod behind the captive. By day-
break they were in the lower foothills.

All day t they journeyed toward the ranch, and at
nightfall camper! in a motte of live.oaks, where there
was a grassy glade and a small spring. That the placé
had frequently been chosen by other campers was ap-

The embers of former fires were found near a

parent.

 

small lean-to of brush and poles.
“Here,” s

a jto,, “is Sefiorita Anita’s. bedroom.

aid Dick, with a gesture sce the lean-
a The rest of us can
- * make ourselves comfortable outside,”

_ They cared for the horses, built a fire and prepared

yey supper as darkness deepened in the timber. Anita

 

helped, and Lopez sat on an old log watching their
_ movements with an air of unconcern which was re-

- markable, whether assumed or genuine.
Bill Horn fondled a ready pistol during the time that

| ;

i ihe Mexican’s hands were released that he mee eat,

 

‘ ee Odin, and enjoy a cigarette.

  
        
       
       
 

said the
“Tf I feel sure I get square

~ No need to watch so close, Sefior Horn,”
Te _ J é
_ €aptive, with a bland smile.

  

now.” ;
_ “Mebbe so,” nodded Bill dryly; “but all the same, I

( Bey itll be some Lee to take proper precautions

    

“Wrapping themselves in their blankets, Dick and Brad
were soon sleeping soundly.

deal at Bar Z I go there straight if you set me free

” said
_. Dick rose and went on duty,

         
   
  
   
    
    
   
  
 
 
    
  
   
 
   
  
   
  
  
  
    
 
   
  
  
  

WEEKLY. 23

said Bill. “TI wants

to state that this yere business is right onpleasant for

“T hopes you're right, little gal,”

me, for though I ain’t never pestered yer none, same as
I admits I
never puts blinkers on yer that I don’t get a severe case

some of the others—Squinty in particular

 

of palpitation. Excuse me for being so outspoken,

These yere remarks sort of come forth unbidden. I’m
proud to say that I’m not sech a fool as Squinty,
Knowing that I’m naturally right onhandsome and a
héap ‘older than you, I figgers it out useless fur me to
prance around admiring and obnoxious,”

She gave him an odd look and a strange flashing
smile.

ak

always admire, not little dried-up ones like Squtinty.”

iank you, Sefior Bill,” she said. “It’s big men I
“Wow!” exploded Bill, who seemed nearly upset by
this.

mark might strike me a heap encouraging.

“If I was ten or fifteen years younger, such a re-
How-
somever,feverything considered, I loses my head none.
Lopez, we’re going to truss you up as comfortable as
possible for sleeping purposes, but it'll be wise of you
not to do an unnecessary amount of twisting and =~
squirming in the night, for you'll be watched constant
and ‘close.”

“Never fear, sefior,” smiled Lopez. “Even though e
you don’t believe, I say again I would not leave you if ae .
L.couldg? 4": Se

It was Brad who bound the Mexican.

 

Lopez was
given a blanket and a spot near the fire for a bed,
By lot it fell to Horn to
stand guard during ‘the early hours of the night..

Anita retired to the lean-to.

 

CHAPTER XL
TRICKED.

In due time Horn aroused Dick, who: was to ibe:
the second watch. :
“Everything calm and serene, boy,” said the puncher.
“The little gal seems ‘restless, for I’ve heard her stir-
ring now and then ; but Lopez is sleeping as peaceful.
as a kitten.” ; |

Bill Horn sidering

 
 

~ Dick softly.
- little whelp Squinty put hands on you,

ee
ace peaeeaeeery ea Lciaaterdomersatee Porat eee ae 3

  
  
    
  
   
 
  
   
  
    
  
   
  
   
  
    
  
   
  
   
   
  
  
   
  
   
   
 
   
   
   
  

24. AAP.

»
himself in a blanket and beginning to snore in a won-
derfully brief space of time.

The moon had risen and was sifting its white light
through the openings of the foliage. The motte was
filled with soft nocturnal murmurings. The air was
close and warm. 7

For a time Merriwell walked up and down, but
finally he seated himself on the old log and fell to
thinking of the strangeness of his position. It gave
him a queer, indescribable’ sensation to realize that he
was there in that far Southwestern land guarding a
man charged with a crime, which, in the eyes of cat-
tlemen in that country, was far more odious than man-
slaughter.

A faint. sound behind him caused him to start and
turn quickly. He saw the girl coming forth from the
lean-to bearing her blanket in her hands.

“Ah, Sefior Merriwell,”

sleep in there, it is so warm—so warm.

she whispered, “I cannot
The air is
close, and I cannot breathe. Then I keep thinking of

my father. Let me sit by you a little while. Let me
talk to you, for I think I must talk to some one.”

She came and found a place beside him on the log.
A shaft of moonlight touched her face and made her
dark eyes look larger and handsomer than usual. There
was a singular attractiveness about her dusky oval face.

Her lips were full and finely formed, and she had

small, shapely, pearly-white teeth.

“T am glad it is you to whom I can talk,”
mured, “I have so much to thank you for. It was you
who saved my father, It was you who kept the men
from lynching him.” 7

“7 think you give me too much credit, Anita,” said
“I simply interfered when that vicious
That made me

a trifle hot under the collar.”

> (Hot under the collar,” laughed the girl. “You
mean it made you mad. I know what that is. But
when I get mad, I lose my head. You do not. You

kesp steady. You have not such a temper as Anita.”
— “Qn the contrary, T’ve got a temper like a cold
? chisel.
- lose my head when I lost my temper,
a j fectly frantic and tnreasonable, Experience taught me

It was not so many years ago that I used to

TOP.

she mur-

I became per-

 

p=

oi eS Sims
ae

   

WEEKLY.

the folly of that. I learned that a person who permits
himself to go blind with anger is weakened and easily
conquered by one who restrains and commands his pas-
sions. Having learned this, I fought long and hard to
become master of myself under all conditions,” :

“Do you think they will give my father a square deal
at the ranch?”

“T’m positive of it, Anita.”

“Then.
know how faithful he has been to Seftor
Only for tl

I would have laughed when you threw Squinty across

I know—I

3uckhart.

they will find he is innocent.
1e danger to my father,

Squinty hates him.

the dugout like he was a baky. It was brave, Sefior

Dick. It made me love you.”
Dick caught his breath in dismay.
“Yes,” she whispered hastily, creeping a bit closer,

“it made me love you. I love you because you saved

my father. I would do anything to prove it.”
He moved away.
“T’m

“You’re decidedly impulsive, Anita,” he said.

aftaid=——”’ :
“Oh, you do not understand me, Sefior Dick. I have
Ke ,
to speak what my heart feels.

I know that.

I am only a poor little
an American.
Anita tells

you what is in her heart not that she thinks she may be

Mexican girl. You are

Americans always have many sweethearts.
your sweetheart—oh, no. If she is silly, she is not as
silly as that. It is her way of showing gratitude, that
is all.”

Merriwell breathed easier. ;
“Right is right,
I ae always tried to stand for

“And that isn’t necessary,” he said.
and justice is justice.
what was,just and square,”

“Still, did you not eink of me when you took such
a chance with those men? It was a chance, for such
men shoot quick. Squinty would have shot you, only
for Sefior Brad.” .

“Only for the fact that I knew Brad was handy

enough to fall on Squinty,” said Dick, “I should have

lost no time in getting my own hardware ready for |

action.”
“Oh, you are brave!” breathed the girl—“you are

brave and young and handsome! There are not many

like you on the range.” —,

ATS

RTO

 

 
   
       
      
  

   
  
A

a Pee ghee on

 

  
       

 

TIP TOP

“T beg you!” laughed Dick embarrassed. “You're

too enthusiastic, Anita. It’s decidedly disturbing.”

“T have said it,” she whispered. “It is my way.: I
‘could not help telling you. It is not the way of Amer-
ican girls, | know. I have lived much alone with my
father. When they have found that he is innocent, he
will go back to the patrol and I shall go with him.
There I shall see few men, and probably never again
one the same as you.” ’

“Great Scott!” thought Dick. “I’ve got to cut this
short somehow.”

Aloud he said:

“Tt will be another hard ride in the morning, Anita.
Hadn’t you better get what sleep you can? Bill Horn
told me you were restless, for he heard you stirring.
If you can’t sleep in the lean-to, perhaps you can find

“1 comfortable spot outside.”

“T will try,” she said, rising with her blanket grasped
in both hands.

Suddenly, without the slightest warning, she leaped
like a pantheress upon him, flinging the blanket over
his head and shoulders and twisting it about him. He

was pitched forward from the log amd hampered and
tangled in the blanket. He felt her weight upon him,

felt her struggling to keep him entangled and helpless,

 

and then

There was loud voices, sounds of tramping feet and
scuffing. A single shot was fired. Next, having cast
the girl aside and turned himself clear of’the blanket,
Dick rose to find himself looking in the muzzle of a
pistol held in the hands of a fierce, unkempt Mexican,

who savagely ordered him to put up his hands.

CHAPTER® XII. :

A PROMISE KEPT.

Horn and Buckhart were captives, Lopez had been
released; and the glade was full of treacherous, pic-
turesque, fierce-appearing men, all armed to the teeth.

Some one relieved Dick ‘of his pistols.

; Z . .
_ less, and it was worse than folly to resist.

¥
Looking around, he saw Anita with her father.

t

“The treacherous little cat!” he muttered bitterly.

He was help-

   

WEEKLY: 2

tn

Those men were the rustlers, led by Castro himself.
Somehow, while Bill Horn stood guard one of the
rustlers had crawled like a snake to the rear of the
brush lean-to and whispered with Anita. Had she been
given a little more time, the girl would have attempted

to deceive and trick Horn as she had Dick. It hap-

‘pened, however, that Bill’s time to turn in had come,

and therefore Anita was compelled to try her wiles
upon Merriwell. She had accomplished her purpose,

and the captors were now captives.

The leader of the rustlers, Castro himself, rolling
and lighting a cigarette, announced his intention to
stand the prisoners up to be shot.

Instantly Lopez stepped forward and faced Castro.

“It shall not be,” he said in Spanish. “They have

treated me kindly. They are my friends. You shail
do them no harm, brother.”

Anita seconded her father.

“They are our friends,” she asserted. “If you hatm
them yeu must first harm me.” |

“But they were taking you to the ranch to hang you,
Manuel,” said Castro.

“They were taking me to the ranch to prevent the
others from hanging me, Castro. At great risk to
themselves they protected_me. Yesterday I was seen
with you, and therefore I am believed false to my em-
ployer and a cattle thief. Sefor Buckhart has ever

treated me like a man. This is his son. This is the
friend of his son. Should I be a man if I permitted
you to harm a hair of. their heads?”

“Waugh !” muttered Bill Horn, who understood
Spanish fairly well. “I opine I’m some muddled on

*

this business.” :
“Keep still, Bill,” said Brad. “I don’t quite get the
lay of the land myself.” | ak
Lopez turned to Buckhart.
“You shall understand,” he said. “Castro is my
brother, whom I have not’seen in more than’ten years.
Night before last he came to the dugout, but I didn’t

know him then. I was watching for him to come.

‘Anita has told you how I led them away in pursuit of
g at

sme and gave her a chance to ride and carry a warnmg
i r 7 . : { 7

to the men from the ranch. It was true, every word.”
“Tt was true, every word,” corroborated the girl.

 

 

 
   
  
    
  
  
 
  
   
 
  
   
   
 
  
 
   
   
    
    
  
 
   
   
    
    
    
 
  
 

 

 

<

are got into action without delay.
_ they were pace to 3 depart:

BS eee sy

: agape eomeeary e-PRO Se pa oe

oie

“But I rode into a trap,” continued Lopez. “TI was

roped, dragged from my horse, and made captive. The

men who caught me didn’t know I was Castro’s

brother. I was taken to their chief, and he recognized
Instantly he ordered them to set me free.

We talked of

me at o1ice.
I stayed with him many hours talking.
agreat many things. At any time I was at liberty to
depart. I begged my brother to go over the river into

We
didn’t know that Sefior Brad, in company with Sefior

Mexico, and he promised me that he would do so.
Smith and Squinty, had seen us. I am speaking the
[ am not a rustler.
leader of rustlers.

truth, My brother is Castro, a
How can I prove this if I go to the
Bar Z? Show me that I may prove it to the belief of
every one and I will go.’’
Brad shook his head.
I admit, Lopez,”

he said, “that it might be some

difficult to prove. I likewise admit that it’s my opinion
the majority of the boys wouldn’t take a whole lot of

stock in such a yarn,”’ o

“I know it,” nodded Lopez—“I know it, and so I

shall not go to the Bar Z. I shall go elsewhere, far

away, and Anita will go with me. But you, Sefior
Brad—you and your friends will return to the Bar Z
unharmed, for my brother will do what I ask of him.
I request that you tell them all that has happened.
With Castro we'll set our course straight for the river
and Mexico.”
Castro, tossing aside his cigarette, said: ,

He is an honest man.
Is it his fault that I, his brother, am a cattle thief?

You know where to find Cactus Springs.

“Tt shall be as Manuel desires.

There we

. Shall. leave your horses and your weapons, for you
could not travel without horses to the ranch, and your
weapons you might need.”

“Waal, ” ‘said Bill Horn, |

If you keeps your
word, I’ fl admit that my ptevious opinion of rustlers

| will] be some altered and softened.”

4 ou shall see that Castto is a man of his word.”

. The chief then gave a few curt orders to his men,

   

TOF

turned, and vanished

A “permit me to observe,
a _ Castro, old gent, that I don’t see whar we've got any
kick coming on this “yere deal.

Ina few seconds

— _ “
OP en 4

ee re REN ae
DBAS SOT AER AES GRE LAE fa UNI SERS Die

  

WEEKLY.

Anita hesitated. Suddenly she turned and ran to
Dick.

“Oh, sefior—Senor Dick, forgive me!” she pleaded.
“It was for my father that I deceived you. It was to
save his life I did it.”

“No hard feelings, little girl,” assured Dick. “I

fancy it will be the wisest thing for your father to put
the Bar Z.”’
We

Anita deceived you, but still

a good long distance between himself and
Se

é
shall never meet again.

sefior, it is'wise. We are going. Adios,
when she speak she speak what was in her heart.”

She caught. one of his hands, lifted it to her lips,
like a shadow into the darkness of

the timber.

* * * * K * *

Three hours after daybreak a trio of dusty, wearied —

men arrived at Cactus Springs, where they found their
horses and their weapons, precisely as Castro had
promised.

“Well,” said Brad, in deep satisfaction, “this is one
time a greaser certainly kept his word. Everything
considered, I’m not regretting that Lopez is at liberty

and touching the high places in the direction of the

Rio Grande.”

said - Dick,
honest man like Lopez should have such a reprehen-

“The only thing to regret,” “is that an

sible brother.”

“But what’s filling me with deep sorrer,” sighed Bill

Horn, ‘

‘Anita no more.’
THE END. \

The Next Number (697) Will Contain

Dick Merriwell’s
OR,
SPORT ON THE RANGE.

, ,
—_—

How it Happened--Good Work-—-Roped—The Story. of
the Armless Pitcher—Struck Out—Rank Umpiring
—Circus Connects With the Ball--Head Work—

Man.

‘is the sat that I'll never clap peepers on little %

Ranch Friends :

Holding the Lead—Changing ete Bravest |

a

ahha

 

   

 
    

         
         
     
     

ea

moO qi

 

nir

“pic

aa OF
— anc
oft.

unc
iar r"

an

ag

ee
i
ee
*
es
¥
we
%
?
aa;
oY
¥
thy
er
®
*)
an
wae
me

 

 

 

 

 

  

  
 

   

  

Climbing a Wall of Water.

 

A glorious summer evening on the coast of China; a blaze of
sunlight kindling into a broad lake of gold the wide, smooth
expanse of Hang-chow Bay, which makes a deep wedge-shaped
dent in the low coast not far to the south of Shanghai; the close-
packed houses, and thatched roofs, and tall, glittering pagodas,
and waving flags, and quaint, boxlike vesséls of the Chinese
port of Hang-chow-foo, clustering along the shore just where the
Tsin-Tang River poured itself into the bay; and, in thé midst
of the smooth, bright waters, a tiny rowboat managed by a
native boatman, with two white men seated in her stern.

“Well, Newman,” said the elder of the two, with a quiet
smile, “does this country meet your views, so far? It will give
you some new experiences to write about before you have done
with it, or my name is not Tom Smart.”

“New experiences? I should rather think so!” cried the
younger man, who seemed to be a fresh arrival. “Why, every-
thing here seems to be just the reverse of what one sees any-
where else, just like the land of Wrong-Side-Foremost in the
story, where the old woman ran over the train, and the pond
fell into the boy and was drowned, and the apple tree tumbled
off the thief and broke its limbs, and the gun came to grief be-
cause it didn’t know the man’was loaded. The compass points
south, and white is deep mourning, and it’s rude to take off your
hat in a house, and old men fly kites, and women draw the
plow, and a puzzled man scratches his hip in place of his head,
and a friend shakes his own hand instead of yours, and i

Here he suddenly broke off, to point at a Chinese boat that
was coming slowly toward them from the other side of the bay,
with a huge, red, staring eye painted on either side of her low,
broad, heavy bow.

“What on earth is the meaning of that affair?” said he, won-
‘deringly.

“Ask Si-Long here—he will tell you,” said Mr. Smart, who
seemed not a little amused by his guest’s amazement at all that
he saw.

And Fred Newman turned, as directed, to the Chinese boat-
man—a queer little wizened “John,” whose smooth, waxy, yellow
face, broad straw hat, and baggy blue frock gave him quite the
look of a big doll, a likeness still further borne out by his narrow,
half-shut eyes and unchangingly immovable features, as well as
the long pigtail of tightly plaited hair that hung halfway down
his back. :

“Plenty good—all same boat so,” he said in “pidgin English,”
in reply: to, Fred’s query. “Boat no have eye, how can see?”

And then Si-Long bent to his oars again, with a strength and
himbleness of which his meager frame—uncourteously compared
by Newman to an overtried sausage—might well have seemed

 

quite incapable.

f

“Do all these fellows talk English?” asked Fred.
“Most_of them talk the kind of English that you have heard,
‘pidgin English,’ as they call it—‘pidgin’ being the Chinese way
of pronouncing ‘business.’ It is a curious fact that the northern

_ and southern Chinamen, not understanding each othet’s dialect,

_ often have to fall back on ‘pidgin English’ as their only means
of communication. A man from Peking, you know, wouldn’t

understand a man from Hongkong in the least; so then. this

broken English comes in. But the most awkward thing of all is

_ that a Chinese word which means one thing’ in one province,

Means the very opposite in another. If I were to say ‘man-man’
to a Canton boatman, he would slack rowing at once; if I said

‘ # the very same thing to Si-Long here, he would begin pulling
_. away for all he was worth.”

“He doesn’t look as if he could do much in that way,” said the
young athlete, eying Si-Long’s meager form with contempt.

“Can't he, though? You should just see him when the ‘bore’
comes in—that’s a big tidal wave, you know, that comes rushing
Up the bay every now and then, in a regular wall of water yards
high, that looks as if it would.sweep away the very town itself;
but, strangely enough, just a mile or two above the town, it
melts away to nothing.”

own. joke.
1t come?”
His host was just about to reply, when he suddenly checked
himself, and bent his head forward, as if to listen tb some dis-
tant sound. Fred Newman, seeing him do so, did the same, and
leard, or thought he heard, a dull, far-off rumble, not unlike
the roll of distant thuhder.

“It must be worth. seeing, though; how often does

 

TIP TOP

“A very great bore, no doubt,” said Newman, grinning at his.

‘level where the fish are found—which is

   

WEEKLY,

Af,

Ey Mr. Smart caught the sound, his grave face brightened
visibly.

“We are in luck,” he crigd; “here is the tidal wave just coming
now,.and this is the very best place to see it where we are now,
right out in the middle of the bay.”

There were few braver men alive than Fred Newman; but,
bold as’ he was, he did not quite share his friend’s delight in
the prospect of viewing, from the centre of this open bay, the
advance right upon them of “a wall of water yards high,” rushing
in “as if it would sweep away the very town itself.”

But there was no time to think of it, for all at once his friend
called out: “Here it comes! and now you will see something
worth looking at.”

And then Mr. Smart said a few words .in Chinese to Si-Long,
the boatman, who at once put the boat’s head about, and began
pulling hard up the bay toward the town.

Fred naturally thought that they were flying from the coming
peril, afd was not sorry that they did so. He was not a little
puzzled, indeed, to make out: why they should run right up the
centre of the bay, instead of making at once for the shore, where
they would have been safe. But he took it for granted that they
must know best, and made no remark.

Meanwhile, the other boats had caught the alarm, and all was
confusion. The air rang with shouts in various languages—
Chinese, Japanese, Malay, Hindustani, Portuguese, French, and
English—and men of all races and all colors, brown, yellow, or
white, were seen darting in all directions, those on shore hauling:
up their boats on the beach in frantic haste.

All this time Fred Newman, strain his eyes down the bay as
he might, could see nothing beyond a thin glittering line drawn
right across the mouth of it, as if a silver cord had been suddenly
stretched from shore to shore; but the strange noise that had
first caught his attention still continued, and grew louder and
louder by degrees, till it seemed to make the very. air tremble.

When the young man turned to look once more, a few moments
later, he was quite startled to see how vastly that slight streak
had grown, and with what whirlwind speed it was approaching
them. The slender white thread was now a rushing sheet of
foam, towering higher and higher every instant—a “regular wall
of water,” in fact, just as Mr. Smart had said—and, even as he
looked, he saw it strike a good-sized junk, and fling it right up

.in the air, for he could plainly see, for one moment, the line of

the horizon underneath the doomed vessel !

At that very moment Si-Long put the boat about once more,
and headed «straight toward the coming death!

“IT say——” began Fred excitedly; but his remonstrance was cut
short by a dash ofecold spray, which took his breath as if some
one had clutched him by the throat, and the next moment there’
came a rush and a deafening roar, and up, up, up he went, as it .
seemed, into the very sky, amid a blinding whirl of foam—and
then down again with a dizzy, sickening plunge, such as one
feels in a troubled dream, when falling from a seemingly measure-
less height.

Then, all in a moment, foam, spray, uproar, and the great wave
itself were gone as if they had never been; and the boat was
floating quietly on smooth water once more, while, far in! the
distance, the watery wall that had so nearly overwhelmed them
was sweeping past the town up the river. —

“Where on earth are we?” gasped Fred Newman, as he stared
about him in blank amazement. :

“Why, safe over the ‘bore,’ to be sure—and very neatly done it
was,” said his host gleefully. “What do you say to Si-Long now?
I wanted you to see what he can do.” |

“It was very kind of you, and I can’t tell you how grateful I
aim,” said the young man, with intense sarcasm; “but, on the
whole, I think that, another time, I should prefer to witness his
skill from the shore.” oe is

FISHES IN HOT WATER.

 

A French naturalist, describing a recent tour in Guatemala,
tells of a species of fish which he found in the boiling lake of
Amatitlan. It is called the “pacilia dovvi,” and there is no doubt
at all about the high temperature of the water in which it passes
its days and nights. The Amatitlan Lake is fed by numerous
hot springs, and the placing of a hand on its surface even means
scalded fingers. However, ebulition is s>mewhat tempered to a
parboiled species, as the really boiling water rises to the surface,
leaving a temperature of ninety-five degrees Fahregheit at the
sufficiently warm for
cold-blooded creatures. ti # ge TERN

a

   
 

     
Te Tor free by mail.

SPOOL OF

 

 

 

 

 

 

NEW YORK, August 14, 1909,

 

 

 

 

TERMS TO TIP TOP WEEKLY MAIL SUBSCRIBERS.
(Postagé Free.)
Single Copies or Back Numbers, 5c. Each.
ONG YOOE vedere ddesdevedvew wi $2.50

2 copies one year... ...0..0.5.5 4.00
} COPY tWO Yeare..c. sc. ..eee 4.00

B MOnthe, . oc. caviar cdewvccvces 65c.
Mh TRONSNS suiiudi wed oie Cee. 85c.
6 months ........ (ee caen ee $1.25

How to Send Money—By post-office or express monoy order,
registered letter, bank cheok or draft; at our risk, At your own risk if sent
by curréncy, coin, or postage stamps in ordinary letter.

' Receiptse—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 let us know at once. Mohs

STREET & SMITH, Publishers,
7989 Seventh Avenue, New York City.

Ormonp G. Smitn,

Grorce C. Suir { Proprietors.
i

 

 

 

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 3
Toppers have won for themselves a place on our Honor Roll for their
- efforts to increase the circulation of the King of Weeklies, Get in line,
_ boys and girls, and strive to have your name at the head of the list,
is G. Rangnow, Philadelphia, Pa. _
_R. F. Vanatta, Denver, Colo,
B. P. Slocum, lowa. ?
R.A. Lee, West Virginia,
Russell Ransom, Virginia.
E. J. Silverman, Oklahoma.
William Quackenbush, Albany, N. Y.
Frederic B. Eastman, Canada.
Allan F. Malone, Arizona. .
V. D. Reynolds, New York State. | ass
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.

—=—_

Owing to the large number of letters teceived, the editor of Tip
Top catinot undertake to secure their publication undet six weeks,
Those who contribute to this department must not expect to see them
before that time, — ee ; re Ha

7

 

 

oF REE POST CARDS—Any boy abo wnitnieaks telling |

why he loves Tip Tor, and what the magazine has done for him, as well |

as what he is doing on his part to increase its circulation, will, upon
- request, receive a set of six fine post.cards of the principal characters in

| Top Weekly Post Card Offer.”

mg hs, okt Ay letter aaa Geog.) eves
_. Although T have read “Tip Top” only about six months—with |
the exception of some of the early days—I have come to realize.

that there is nothing like it it the line of juvenile fiction, In
short, it is truly the “king of weeklies.” I am not an athlete

_ myself, but I admire it in any one

4

certainly can fever praise

Be very sure and address your letters “Editor Tip

press my admiration for the “king of weeklies.”
one : “first big chunk” of “Bill Bruce, of Hatvard,” and it is ju
: one, and I truly love to read about —
athletes. From Dick and Frank Merriwell I have received much |
betiefit in self-control. I think I can truthfully say that I have -
increased the reading of “Tip Top” in my neighborhood about

WEEKLY.

a dozen. I am going to continue in the good work. Wishing a
long and happy careet to Burt L. and all connected with “Tip
Top,” I remain, as ever, a loyal reader and helper.
Gorpon M. RaAIney.

It is fiot much of a task, after all. A dozen copies loaned to a
dozen boys, and the harvest is great. “Tip Top” speaks for
itself. It wields an unconscious influence, and once a boy be-
comes interested in the clever stories of sport and school life, it
becomes a habit that is difficult to break away from. And best
of all, this influence does a boy a world of good. No lad can
read “Tip Top” constantly without imbibing some of the moral
atmosphere surrounding the stories. Whether he admits it or
not he must sooner or later grow to view things with the clear
vision of a Merriwell. It raises his ideals to a plane far above
that which he used to occupy. In a word, it does him good to
mingle with Dick or Frank and their friends,

(A Jetter from West Virginia.)
I ama great teader, and of all the stories I have read, the
Mertiwell tales in the “Tip Top” atid the Medal Library are my
favorites, as Brad says, “That’s whatever.” I have just finished
the last number of “Tip Top,” 685, and I think Wicked Weems
ig the dirtiest ball player I ever heard of. I have been reading
“Tip Top” for about seven years, and I get other boys in every
town I visit to read them, and one copy works like magic on.
them; they never stop. as long as they can procure a copy. |
Frank, Dick, Bart, Brad, Claxton, Elsie, Inza, and June are my —
favorites. Wishing long life to Burt L., Street & Smith, and all
loyal Tip-Toppers, and hoping to see this in print soon, I remain
a loyal Tip-Topper. ARTHUR PARKER.

So continue to spread the gospel of “Tip Top,” and may your
days be long in the land. We are glad to hear from such ener-
getic disciples. f

Having read the “Tip Top Weekly” for nearly four years, I

shall take the privilege of writing a few lines to let you know

of my great love and admiration for the great “king of weeklies.”
I have kept “mum” as long as possible, so I shall have to “let —
loose,” “you hear me shout?” I do tot believe any publication —
could possibly do as much good as the great “Tip Top Weekly.”
At any rate, I know from‘my own experience and from those’.
around me. About once a week I gather all the children in the
neighborhood aroutd me in my study room and read a “Tip
Top Weekly” to them. Well, you should see the expression of
happiness on their faces when they leave. Once in a while they
go away sadly, that is when I read a sad “Tip Top,” as “Dick
Merriwell’s Regret,” “Dick Merriwell’s Red Comrade,” ete ~
Really, I felt like crying myself when I read them, Well, T
Burt L. Standish enough for his
splendid work, and hope he will have a long and prosperous life, _
atid continue to write about Frank and Dick for a long time to
come, He has a way about his writing that takes it so very
interesting, I like Frank, but Dick and Joe Crowfoot are my
favorites. Their characters are simply grand. They are such

noble fellows. Atnong the girls I like Rose, Doris, and Claudia, . a

I hope Rose will become Joe Crowfoot’s bride some day. Just —
one thing about the Medal Library; I have tried and tried over —
again to get “Frank Merriwell’s Brother.” It seems to be out of ..
rint, I wish you would let me know. if it were, I remain a —
oyal admirer of the great king of weeklies, Bi-Niee

Los Angeles, Cal. Nab fai ie
"Dick Merriwell’s Brother,’ No. 431 of the New Medal, can —
be easily procured by sending stamps to this office, nineteen _
cents irl all, including postage. It is in much demand, since it
records the finding of Frank’s brother. Your words of cheer
are appreciated, ae ci

\

(A letter ftom Texas.) Re.

Having read “Tip Top” for so long, I thought T would ex-—
I read th

like all the rest of Burt L. Standish’s writings, which ate un
equaled. I am doing all I can to push dear old “Tip Top,” and

I succeeded in getting a good many readers. Five of us boys
i have got up a club. called the “Tip Top Hustlers.” Every Sat

}

fate

 

 
=o Tr

SPOR Se eee ee ee

= D

<—o

 
 

     
 
        
    
      
  

  

: TIP TOP

urday when we receive our salaries we each pitch ‘in a quarter
and. distribute the copies among the boys, telling them to pass
them on when they get through. My letter is taking up too much
~ of your time, I fear, so I will close wishing Frank, Dick, and
13 the others a long life of happiness. Loyally, Lron Lewis,
Pres. “Tip Top Hustlers,”
We wish your club every success in the world, and trust that
its members will always be guided by the principles that carried
» the Mefriwells to many a goal.
x ete t
a (A letter from Arkansas.)
SS I have been reading “Tip Top” for seven years. It has done
ee me more good than anything I have ever read. I have done all I
* could to get my friends to read the magazine, have even gone
so far as to get old people to read it, and they always speak
very highly of it. I think for good, clean literature it has no
~ equal. Very respectfully, E. G, Morrine.
You never wrote truer words in all your life, and a host of
discerning boys agree with you. The fountain seems well-nigh
inexhaustible, and there are new pleasures pouring forth every
week,

ge re

I have been reading the “Tip Top Weekly” since No. 190; and
- think it is one of the best ever published. I have also found
it worthy of the name, for it is without a peer in American
literature for ennobling the American youth. It inspires all to
imitate the conduct of the heroes of heroes, Frank and Dick
_ Merriwell: As it has influenced me for good, I feel that like-
wise it has inspired thousands of other boys and young men
to live a better life. One could not say too much concerning

 

yobs. f ‘ 6 “ 5 y +

} the admirable qualities of Frank Merriwell. Unselfish, forgiving,
4 fair and square in all his dealings, disdaining trickery, abhorring
a falsehood, of unconquerable will, a conqueror of all bad habits;

  
 
   
  
  
   
   
 
 

|. in short, one of nature’s noblemen. And Dick bids fair to
|} equal, if not surpass, “Merry,” in reaching perfect manhood, for
he is rapidly overcoming his faults and proving himself a true
~Merriwell. In our section of the city there was a club called
_Nicetown Boys’ Club, which was a very dull club. I joined the
club, and after a few months made it one of the best clubs in the
city. “Howr” I advised them to get a physical instructor,
which they did, and to use Frank Merriwell’s Book of Physical
Development. When I first joined the club the members mum-
bered thirty-two, but now they number over three hundred and
eighty, anid I have got many of them to read “Tip Top.” Every
Friday the boys are lined around the reading tables reading good
old “Tip Top.” Hoping to see my letter in print in the near
future, wishing Burt L, Standish a long life, and success to
“Tip Top.” G. RaNncnow.
Philadelphia, Pa.

Since you have been so earnest in your labor for “Tip” Top,”

 

  

have done good things in behalf of the magazine. Therefore, we
have written it thus. ,

os

 

(A letter from Arkansas.) :
Iam a reader of your magnificent weekly, and a more ardent
one [ think would be hard to find. I have had more pleasure
“reading “Tip Top” than any other publication I ever handled,

  

  

 

  

well. “Tip Top” has done more for me than any influence next
to that of my dear mother.

  

_ ¢annot find words to express my appreciation of Burt L.’s splen-

did ‘stories. I can read them under circumstances where other

Stoties would not attract me. I let any one read my dae Tops”
1p

    

hat will. I would give much for all back numbers of “Tip Top”
i have not got. I can speak of “Tip Top” amywhere I go with
en I could not resist the temptation to write to you and
| Praise “T'p Top.”

Mafly years to come.

  
  

Jesse CARTER.

Yours truly,

  

 
 

‘Tip Top” why not send for the first few Medal Libraries
taining these, commencing with No. 1rs0. Thus you will
Oy the stories of Frank Merriwell’s early trials and triumphs,
d begin to build up a fine library, of just the sort a boy, de-
4 4ghts in. Read what we have to
- Cover of this number, ee

hs jaf

   

t is only fair that your mame should appear among those who  ®FSt_ letter :
. - Bs . in “Tip Top,” I remain,

and [ do not believe I ever will find one that I will love half so.

) Reading “Tip Top Weekly” has -
fiven me an ambition to do better, greater, and nobler things. I

you continued success, I am, yours very truly,

I hope to read your king of weeklies for

say about this on the outside ©
; >>.) ments for criticism. Iam 15 years 1 mouth old; height, 5 feet

 

WEEKLY. 29

QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS.

EDITED BY PROF. FOURMEN.

 

 

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 ro 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.
U. §. ARMY PHYSICAL EXERCISES, revised by Prof. Donavan,
PHYSICAL HEALTH CULTURE, * © _ by Prof. Fourmen.

a ee

 

 

 

Prot, FourmMen: Being a reader of the famous “Tip Top
Weekly” and your, physical culture hints, L-would_tiketo—have
you. compare my. standing with the average boys of my age.
Weight, 125 pounds; neck, 13 inches; calf, 13 inches; ankle, 9!
inches; biceps, 914 inches; foreatm, 10 inches; wrist, 7 inches;
thigh, 18 inches; chest, normal, 32 inches; expanded, 33% inches;
waist, 27 inches; age, 18 years 2 months; height, § feet 4 inches.
1. How are ty measurements? 2. Is there any cure for muscle
bound? 3, What is the best remedy for a sprained thumb? I
used iodine with no result, 4. Is it better to run up and down
hill, such as running on one of the city bridges, or better to
run on a level course? 5. Rubber gym. slippers, I was told, are
not good to wear, as the rubber prevents the electricity from the
earth from entering the body, and résulting in eéye, ear, tooth,\
and ‘other aches. Please tell me if I was being “kidded.” 6. Is
it hatmful 'to rub down with alcohol? 7. Please let me know
how I can strengthen my arm so as to obtain a swift delivery,
as [I expect to pitch for a baseball team this summer. When my
atm is tired from pitching I let the soreness wear off. I work in
a machine shop nine hours, also get nine hours’ sleep. The
books I have on physical culture, are: U. S. Army Book of
Physical Culture, Frank Merriwell’s Book on Physical Develop-
ment, and your book on Physical Health Culture. In reading
your book I found on page 149, How to dress for health and
beauty. I was glad to know that you encouraged the athletes
to have their clothing suspended from their shouldets, rather
than from the hips. Also to tell how to dress correttly. In
winter I used to go about without any underwear, wearing
simply a pair of tights and a jersey for underwear. Now, how-
ever, I dress as you have advised. This letter is the second that»
I have sent you, and hope to see it printed in “an ideal publica-
tion for the American youth.” « Thartking you for past favors,
for which I feel that I cannot repay you, and for answering my
first letter, and wishing long life to all those who are interested
An Amertcan Boy Tip-Toprer.

1. Weight 15 pounds above the average. Chest 1 inch short. .
2, Massage is a good remedy. 3. It takes a long time for a
sprain to heal. Ygu must not be discouraged, 4. Variety in
running is the best course. 5. Most athletes use them, I believe. —
6. Alcohol is good. About ‘all embrocations contain it. 7. Only |
by exercise. j } ibeat’

Fos

 

Pror. Fourmen: I have been a reader of “Tip Top” for mote

than two years, and I would like to give you my measurements.

Age, 12 years; weight, 75 pounds; height, 5 feet 1 inch; chest,
nortnal, 30 inches; expanded, 31 inches; waist, 26 inches; ankle,
2 inches; calf, 1134 inches; wrist, 614 inches; thigh, 1834 inches. —
Vould you please tell me my weak and strong points? W

New York City. Francis SINGLER. |)

You need to get to work to straighten out the irregularities
‘in your make-up. For instance, while your weight is 7§ pounds
when it should be 95 pounds, still your waist is 29 inches when, —
‘to be only normal, it should be. 24 inches; Fortunately your —
chest is right. ei eh tifa Ne UU eae aS
v4 ’ :

 

Pro. Fourman: Having read “Tip Top” about two years, I
take the liberty to ask you a few questions and send my measure

   

ishing

   
   

a
x

    
  
  
  
    
   
  
     
  
   
 
      
    
       
     
        
   
     
      
      
     
     
     
    
     
    
   
    
       
    
     

  
   
   
    
  
   
  
 
 
 
    
  
      
  
  
   
  
  
   
   
  
 
  
 

 

 

    

hdohabat te
ij

 

 

7 inches; weight, 133 pounds; chest, normal, 3314 inches; ex-
panded, 3534 inches; contracted, 32%4 inches; waist, 29 inches;
wrist, 9 inches; calf, 14 inches; neck, 14 inches; wrist, 7 inches;
forearm, 10% inches; biceps, normal, 1014 inches; flexed, 13
inches; thigh, 20 inches; ankle, 9% inches. Of course these
measurements were taken stripped. Drink neither tea nor coffee

nor liquors, nor do I smoke. I can run roo yards in 12 seconds;,

3 miles in 171%4 minutes. “Am-I-built fora runner? Wishing all

good luck to “Tip Top,” and thanking you in advance for your

information, I remain, yours truly,
Manchester, N. H. “A New HaAmMpsuire Lap.”
P, S.—I measure 16% incl.:s across the shoulders.

Weight good. Chest expanded abotit what it should’ be nor-
mally. You should make a good runner when you have put the
“steam boiler” in perfect shape—gained those inches in lung
capacity that are lacking now.

Pror, FourmMen: Having read “Tip Top Weekly” for a num-
ber of years, I now take the time to ask you a few questions.
Please tell me how I can improve in my. condition? I am 16
years 6 months old; weight, 120 pounds; eight, 5 feet 14-inches ;

neck, 13 inches; chest, normal, 3114 inches; thigh, 20 inches;

-ankle, 10% inches; calves, 14 inches; across shoulders, 15 inches.

Please tell me what to do to be tall and strong. Hoping to see
my letter in print, I close with three cheers for Street & Smith.
Syracuse, N. Y. An “ApMIRER.”

It is very simple. Your chest is all right, fortunately, but

you weigh 20 pounds more than you should. You must exercise |

much, and it would be wise for you to get one of our manuals
so that you can lay out a good course. After you have carried
this on diligextly and faithfully for 3 or 6 months write me again,
and I am sure the report will be of the right sort. As to your
growing tall, that is something beyond our ken. We can only
assist. Nature by standing erect. Some boys stunt their natural
growth by such habits as smoking. I trust this is not the case
with you.

TP TOP WEEKLY.

3 . on; -
niente th real eiaeal Bee ne Renan ete ae ee

(A letter from Illinois.)

Pror. Fourmen: I will be 16 years old in June. In school
clothes I weigh 145 pounds; my height is 5 feet 8 inches; chest,
normal, 33% inches; expanded, 3614 inches; neck, 14% inches;
biceps, 13 inches; hips, 34 inches; waist, 31 inches; thigh, 2r
inches; wrist, 7 inches; calves, 14% inches; across shoulders,
17, inches; forearm, 11 inches; ankle, 10% inches. I would like
to-be a good athlete. High jump, around 4 feet; standing broad
jump, 8 feet.. Have been taking cold baths in the morning and
running about a mile and a half every morning to get good wind.
Would like to entér for something on the track or field this year.
We had a basket-ball team last year; I played guard and am in
fair shape, a little heavy, I think. Thanking you in advance, and
hoping to see this in next week’s paper, I remain,

AN EAGER WAITER,

P, S.—Please state my weak points and send price of manual
to build up the weak spots. Tell me where I am strong in points.

You weigh quite enough, but lack 314 inches in chest measure-
ment. You will find our manual listed above the letters of this
department.

Pror, Fourmen: Being a reader of “Tip Top,” I would like
to ask a few questiorfs. I am 13 years 6 months old; height,
5 feet 314 inches; weight, 113 pounds; chest, expanded, 31 inches;
normal, 29 inches; waist, 28 inches; wrist, 6 inches; neck, 1134
inches; biceps, 9 inches, expanded. How are my measurements?
Am I overweight? I play all games. Don’t eat sweets or drink
tea or coffee. Hoping to see this in next “Tip Top,’ I remain,
yours truly, Be Ee

Plainfield, Conn.

Well, you are not so badly off, citizen. In weight you are a
few pounds over the average. But your chest should border
along 33 inches normal, and there is where you should get your
licks in. Nothing will pay you better in the long run than to
build up a fine pair of “bellows” tht will stand you in good
stead all through life. All athletes find great need of strong

lungs.

 

 

 

‘

 

 

‘TIP-TOP BASEBALL TOURNAMENT FOR »1909

 

past, has induced us to once again enter the field with a tempting offer. So here it 1s, boys: The two teams which,

at the end of the season, have the highest average—the members of which play the greatest number of games, score

the most runs and have lost the least number of games, will be declared the winners,
having the higher average will be declared the Tip Top Championship Team of the All-American Baseball
‘Tournament for 1909, and will receive a beautiful silk pennant bearing a suitable device.
receive a full equipment, consisting of trousers, shirt, stockings, shoes 4nd cap for nine members.
newspaper accounts of your games also to substantiate the score.
notice taken of any score not entered on a coupon cut out of Tip Top. Coupons must be properly made out, one for each game.

Ts great interest taken by enthusiastic amateur baseball teams all over the country in our contests for some years

-

Of the two winning teams, the one

Each winning team will
When possible send
DON’T FAIL" TO $END IN YOUR COUPON AT ONCE. Vo

 

NAME QP TBA 6 oid ds Snes cape anes seceas TOWN si deinyiin ddan vnunet SATs coh ie toy Web yaatus OPPONENT’S NAME....----+<+++-+++0+ a airy
NAMES OF TEAM. POSITION, NAMES OF TEAM. ‘ }
POCPSO ATOR Re teres Veen Eten naw st ENN Eten teen en wens i Ae Pitcher 6 wh OF meee eaee same ew ee cece es casks ougetseseatecusacees eeeccccseone

 

 

 

f é

1909—TIP TOP BASEBALL TOURNAMENT COUPON.

SCCCRa bende vbveteconcccvacccvcccncsccevecsecsancun oe Si i Mee lays Oks wrth Catcher ab awe Seoeen cenencowees i edeeosccocescuses deweavecs envove edeuanee
PT Titi tit TILT ILeLe wecereressasee eceecaseseeees| Ist Base OCONEE OHCOEEEEE COC S ESOS meds ese eseseassee Pew ewk seeweseeaseesone .
4
| MEREOCE RT MED COU TEL Rann een Earn eRe neem nE eae ene aan enennwewssnnnwuaes 24 Base |..... opecccccsucdecccsedcvcensces occ caccescoss oa cewensenenwcedoossss

r
TTI IIPTrT itil iit itt it errr errr ee Tree eer TTT Terre rrr r rei tT Tee GENER Eos. hei umanepanatucis uebcuueoscuceees Geeckbeuunvuck sows scouccusace

iy

Seanncgieed cbakedcedsdqc dh Winds anus sends suphvabdenaeivldvaassesocbelias Short Stop Aen wewee eb emet ews enneereseee ewww ree eee emeee werweanmaceneenersnee
5 ) j R <.. \ ‘i ‘
SORE SS OCR EG COTO EEE O ERENCE TORO E EHEC O ROHR E BOL R, Field ese UCedn whan US chee tnd ods vatiicuo deen Santee ewer ewnwews -—eeeee Seon
f ? }

one : C. Fietd ;

POSS OS SOF OE ESE EEEE ERE EEO EEE EE ERE E EEE O ETO RETO E BER OO mms } '* se ebwoebacenecscuce woacces ORR ROO ERE EEO EEE -- im
\ | 3 3

Wabink vellda dap ctdanuslidpnhndddduasdaUheancvde dddbdses>(ukacdexbuekanvonkh la TIOld Li cagdepndsbwebes aces whmacedags piacansgatesrsdsuwvces see rewmwweeceas i

WINNER. ..-0-secrevaisesscrsseevencesensesseoessFINAL BCORB.. si vesdecksecdetdhelds MANAGER akon i. 4cn wawawan edbowusancs oan eanarsaerecerenone

   

 

 

\

 

 

Dal ap
soe

- Sete

*
«P

ty

 

 

 

 

 

Es

      
     
    
        
         
     
     
     

      
       
     
   

   
tie ai sili . ‘

 

 
  

   
 

 

Q
\

| length novel,

LL. Standish has ever AED

CAGES AIL

  

       

LISS LOVISLOY LOLOL

p
6

HOW ABOUT THIS? ‘

|
“The greatest baseball story I ever wrote”—Burt L. Standish iC
says so, and he ought to know—is now running in | )

THE POPULAR :
MAGAZINE

and some of «Burt L.’s” boys are not reading it!) ARE YOU
ONE OF THEM?

 

 

THE SECOND INSTALLMENT OF

BILL BRUCE OF HARVARD

is even better than. the first, and the others will be better still,
If you have missed any, get the back numbers and start

 

 

_ reading this great story NOW. ‘ | | 6
THE POPULAR is the ee magazine in the world. | | @
It is the only magazine devoted entirely to stories of action and adventure. | \ |
It is the only magazine which contains complete i in each number a full y

Each number contains one or more stories of enllepe athletics.

Each number contains one or more detective stories.

Each number contains two or more Western stories.

It is the only magazine, except TIP TOP, in which the work of Burt

 

 

FIFTEEN CENTS ON. ALL NEWS STANDS
STREET & SMITH, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK ; or

ROO (ARIE

 

Ni SUES

   

   

 

 
       
      
        
      
 

 
   
   
 
     

   
     
    

 

. ”
Some ntl rh COO lt Puree Mtge eek CE.

 

=== ALL, OF THE BACK NUMBERS OF

 
    

Pa ae

 

 

TIP TOP WEEKLY

 

 

THAT CAN NOW BE SUPPLIED

 

 

 

 

186—Frank Merriwell’s Trust. 490—Dick Merriwell’s Support.
188—Frank Merriwell’s Sport. 491—-Dick Merriwell’s Stroke
192—Frank Merriwell’s Touch. 492—-Dick Merriwell Shadowed.
194—Frank / Merriwell’s \Stratagem, 498—Dick Merriwell’s Drive.
195—Frank Merriwell’s Limit. 494—-Dick Merriwell’s Return.

197—Frank Merriwell’s ‘Flock.” 495—Dick Merriwell’s. Restoration. £
198—Frank Merriwell’s Tempta- 496—Dick Merriwell’s Value,

tion, 497—Dick Merriwell’s “Dukes.”
199—Frank Merriwell’s Work. 498—Dick Merriwell’s Drop Kick,
202—Frank Merriwell’s Sleigh. 499—Dick Merriwell’s Defeat.

204—Frank Merriwell’s. Opponent. 500—Dick Merriwell’s Chance.
212—Frank Merriwell’s Football, 501—Dick Merriwell’s Stride.
213—Frank Merriwell’s Handicap. 502—Dick Mérriwell’s Wing-Suit,
214—Frank Merriwell’s Stroke. 503——Dick Merriwell’s Skates.
230—Frank Merriwell’s Battery. 504—-Dick Merriwell’s Four Fists.

231—Frank Merriwell’s Archer. 505—Dick Merriwell’s

2382—Frank Merriwell’s Double Game.

Play. 506—Frank Merriwell’s Tigers.
233—Frank Merriwell’s Find. 507—Frank Merriwell’s
234—Frank Merriwell’s Hustlers. Guard,

235—Frank Merriwell’s Captivity. 508—Frank Merriwell’s Flying Fear
236—Frank Merriwell’s New Pro- 509—-Dick Merriwell in Maine.

tege. 510—Dick Merriwell’s Polo Team.
237—Frank Merriwell’s Power. 511—Dick Merriwell in the Ring.
238—Frank Merriwell’s Policy. 512—-Frank Merriwell’s New

239-—-Frank Merriwell’s Freshmen. 513—Frank Merriwell’s -Trouble.
240—Frank Merriwell’s Generalship 514—-Frank’ Merriwell’s Pupils.

241—-Frank Merriwell’s Kick, 515—Dick Merriwell’s Satisfaction. 53:
242—-Frank Merriwell’s High Jump 51¢——pick Merriwell’s Discernment. 5

243—Frank Merriwell’s ‘“Brassie”’ 517__pick  Merriwell’s
, Shot. Hand.

244—-Frank Merriwell’s Shrewdness 549 rank Merriwell’s New Boy.
245-——Frank Merriwell’s Entertain 549-fFrank Merriwell’s Mode,
ments. 520—I'rank Merriwell’s Aids:
246—Frank Merriwell’s Mastery. 521—Dick Merriwell’s. Visit.
247—Frank Merriwell’s Dilemma. 522—Dick Merriwell’s Retaliation.
248—Frank Merriwell’s Set-Back. 523--Dick Merriwell’s Rival.

249—Frank Merriwell’s Search. 524—-F'rank Merriwell’s Young Crew
250—Frank Merriwell’s Ring. §25—Frank Merriwell’s Fast
2561—Frank Merriwell’s Party. 526—Frank Merriwell’s
262—-Frank Merriwell’s Life Strug- _ Field.

gle. 527—Dick Merriwell’s Reprisal.
953—Frank Merriwell’s Skill. 528—Dick Ne eared: a
254—-Frank Merriwell’s Club, 29—Dick Merriwell’s Dismay.
255—Frank Meriwell’s Scheme. 530--Frank Merriwell’s Son:

256—Frank Merriwell’s Mysterious 531 rank Merriwell’s Old Flock. ©
582—Frank Merriwell’s House Party

Move. f ‘
257—Frank Merriwell’s Hand. 533—Dick

258—Frank Merriwell’s Suspicion. ° Team Merriwell’s
259—Frank Merriwell’s Trust. :

oo i. Ig tee ¢, 584—Dick Merriwell’s Demand.
#60—Frank Merriwell’s Sweetheart. 535—Dick Merriwell’s Slabmate.

ene ede Morriwell's ;. BOkOm 596 meant Merriwell’s

262—Frank Merriwell Deceived. Fs Camp)

587—Frank Merriwell’s Proposal.

263—Frank Merriwell in Form. Tay soll?
264—Frank Merriwell’s Coach. 588 si erat lig ies
408—Frank Merriwell’s Fire. 539—Dick Merriwell’s Cheek.
409—Frank Merriwell’s Great Peril 540—Dick Merriwell’s Sacrifice.
_415—Dick Merriwell’s Devotion, 541—-Dick Merriwell’s Heart.

418—Dick Merriwell’s Force.
423—Dick Merriwell’s Trap.

433-—Dick Merriwell’s “Phantom. ners.

434—-Dick Merriwell’s Management 545—Dick Merriwell’s Lead,

546—Dick Merriwell’s Influence.

47—
461—Dick Merriwell in Constantia San puck M Woche

435—-Dick Merriwell’s Dilemma.
486——-Dick Merriwell’s Persistence.

nople.

p oes
467—Dick Merriwell in Egypt. 549-—Frank Merriwell’s Kodakers.

469—Frank Merriwell’s Retaliation Boy pick Merriwell, Freshman.
A72—-Frank Merriwell’s Handicap. ¢F 52—Dick Merriwell, Half-back
- 478—Frank Merriwell’s Method. 5538—Dick Merriwell’s Resentment
485—Dick Merriwell in Maniia. BBA Dick ‘Merriwell Repaid. Be,

486—Dick Merriwell Marooned, 5BE—Dick

487—Dick Merriwell’s Comrade. ees

488-—-Dick Merriwell, Gap-Stopper. Pg "Mersiwell’. “Push.”
489—Dick Merriwell’s Sacrifice: Hit B50—Dick Merriwell’s Running,

558—Dick Merriwell’s Joke.

Di Merriwell’s Seven.

Merriwell’s Partner.

561—Dick Merriwell in the Tank.
} Merriwell’s Captive.

< Merriwell’s Bluff,
Meriwell’s Regret.
Merriwell’s Silent Work.
Merriwell’s Arm.
Merriwell’s «Skill.
Merriwell's aan

Merriwell’s Hurdiing.
Merriwell’s Best Work.
Merriwell’s Respite.

Merriwell Beset.
Merriwell’s Great Rival.
Merriwell’s Distrust.

Merriwell’s Camp-site.
Merriwell’s Debt.
Merriwell’s Camp-Mates.

Merriwell’s Disapproval.

Merriwell’s Warm Work

596—Dick Merriwell’s Vanishing.
597—Dick Merriwell i
598—Dick Merriwell’s Influence.
599—Frank Merriwell’s Worst Boy.
600—Frank Merriwell’s Annoyance.
Merriwell’s Restraint.
Merriwell Held Back.

60 < Merriwell in the Line.
604—Dick Merriwell’s Drop Kick.
605—Frank Merriwell’s Air Voyage
606—Frank Meérriwell's Auto Chase.
607—Frank Merriwell’s Captive.
608—Dick Merriwell’s Value.
609—Dick Merriwell
610—-Dick Merriwell’s Belief.
611—Frank Merriwell i

612—Frank -Merriwell’s Fight for

613—Frank Merriwell on Top.
614—Dick Merriwell’s Trip West.
615-—-Dick Merriwell’s Predicament.
ee Merriwell i

542—Frank Merfiwell’s New Auto.

, 5438—Frank Merriwell’s Pride,
432—Dick Merriwell’s Set Back.  044—Frank Merriwell’s Young Win-

n.
618—Frank Merriwell Perplexed.
619—Frank Merriwell’s Suspicion.
620——Dick Merriwell’s
621—Dick Merriwell’s
622—-Dick Merriwell’s
623—-Dick Merriwell’s teh.
624—Frank Merriwell’s Hard Case.
625—Frank Merriwell’s Helper.
626—Frank Merriwell’s Doubts.
627—Frank Merriwell’s
628—Dick Merriwell’s Stand,
629—-Dick Merriwell’s. Circle.

630—-Dick Merriweli’s Reach.
631—Dick Merriwell’s Money.
632—-Dick Merriwell Watched.
6383—-Dick Merriwell Doubted.
634—-Dick Merriwell’s Distrust,
635—-Dick Merriwell’s Risk.
636—Frank Merriwell’s Favorite,
637—Frank Merriwell’s Young Clip-
pers.
638—Frank Merriwell’s Steadying
Hand.

639—F rank Merriwell’s Record
Breakers,

640—-Dick Merriwell’s Shoulder,

641—-Dick Merriwell’s Desperate
Work. i

642—-Dick Merriwell’s Example.

643—Dick Merriwell At Gale’s
Ferry.

644—Dick Merriwell’s Inspiration,

645—Dick Merriwell’s Shooting.

646—Dick Merriwell in the Wilds.

647—-Dick Merriwell’s Red Comrade

648—Frank Merriwell’s Ranch,

ote eae Merriwell in the Sad-

650—Frank Merriwell’s Brand.
651—Frank Merriwell’s Red Guide.
652—Dick Merriwell’s Rival.
653—Dick Merriwell’s Strength,
654—-Dick Merriwell's Secret Work.
655—Dick Merriwell’s Way.
656—-Frank Merriwell’s Red Visitor
657—Frank Merriwell’s Rope.
658—Frank Merriwell’s Lesson.
659—Frank Merriwell’s Protection.
660—Dick Merriwell’s Reputation.
661—Dick Merriwell’s Motto.
662—Dick Merriwell’s Restraint,
663-——Dick Merriwell’s Ginger.
664—Dick Merriwell’s Driving.
665—Dick Merriwell’s Good Cheer,
666—Frank Merriwell’s Theory.
667-—-Frank Merriwell’s Diplomacy.
668——-F oad ene Encourage-

eo9—Frank | Merriwell’s ‘Great |

ntamlek Nasinaited Mind,
671—Dick Merriwell’s. ‘‘Dip.”
672—-Dick Merriwell’s Rally. . ,
673—Dick Merriwell’s Flier.
674—Frank Merriwell’s Bullets.
675—Frank Merriwell Cut Off.
676—Frank Merriwell’s Ranch Boss
677—Dick Merriwell’s Equal.
678——Dick Merriwell’s Development,
giao Merriwell’s Eye.
680—Frank Merriwell’s Zest.
681—Frank Merriwell’s Patience,
682—Frank Merriwell’s Pupil. ,
683——Frank Merriwell’s Fighters, $34
684—-Dick Merriwell at the “‘Meet.”
685—Dick Merriwell’s Protest. va
686—Dick Merriwell in the Marathon |
687—Dick Merriwell’s Colors. P
688—Dick Merriwell, Driver.
689——Dick Merriwell on the Deep,
690—Dick Merriwell in the North
Woods,
691—Dick Merriwell’s Dandies, ;
692—Dick Merriwell’s ‘‘Skyscooter. "
693—Dick Merriwell in the Blk
Mountains. i) oo
694—Dick Merriwell in Utah.
695—Dick Merriwell’s Bluff. ‘a
696—Dick Merriwell in the Saddle.

ee

697—Dick Merriwell’s Ranch Friends —

 

 

PRICE, FIVE CENTS PER COPY

If you want any back numbers of our weeklies wad cannot procure them from your newsdealer, they can be
Postage stamps taken the same as money. /

y

obtained direct from this office.

; STREET Qa SMITH, Publishers, 79 Seventh Ave., New York City ¥

 
     

ea Nag

 

contin.

 

i

ee ee

 

      
 
aaa Sail thu ate aaah a Nat Shean ral hea Monbnogeiee tetanic hee ee

Ajanta y dick

 

Pow oN wee OF Ol HE

TIP TOP WEEKLY

ARE PRESERVED IN THE NEW MEDAL LIBRARY

 

 

The following books in the NEW MEDAL LIBRARY con-
tain numbers 1 to 417 of the TIP TOP WEEKLY. Many of
the individual numbers before 417 are entirely out of print so
that the thousands of boys who are interested in the early adven-
tures of Frank and Dick Merriwell and who want to read every-
thing that was written about them, will welcome this oppor-
tunity to secure their favorite reading in a form that is more
readily preserved. PRICE, FIFTEEN CENTS.

150—Frank
167—Frank
178—Frank
184—Frank
189—Frank
193—F rank
197—Frank
201—Frank
205—Frank
209—F rank
213—Frank
217—Frank
225—Frank
229—F rank
233—Frank
237—F rank
240—F rank
244—Frank
247—Frank
251—Frank
254—F rank
258—Frank
262—Frank
267—Frank
271—F rank
276—F rank
280—F rank
284—F rank
288—F rank
292—F rank
296—F rank
300—Frank
304—F rank
308—F rank

Merriwell’s School-days.
Merriwell’s Chums.
Merriwell’s Foes.
Merriwell’s Trip West.
Merriwell Down South.
Merriwell’s Bravery.
Merriwell’s Hunting Tour.
Merriwell in Europe.
Merriwell at Yale.
Merriwell’s Sports Afield.
Merriwell’s Races.
Merriwell’s Bicycle Tour.
Merriwell’s Courage.
Merriwell’s Daring.
Merriwell’s Athletes.
Merriwell’s Skill.
Merriwell’s Champions.

Merriwell’s Return to Yale.

Merriwell’s Secret. -
Merriwell’s Danger.
Merriwell’s. Loyalty.
Merriwell in Camp.
Merriwell’s Vacation.
Merriwell’s Cruise.
Merriwell’s Chase.
Merriwell in Maine.
Merriwell’s Struggle.
Merriwell’s First Job.
Merriwell’s Opportunity.
Merriwell’s Hard Luck.
Merriwell’s Protégé.
Merriwell on the Road.

Merriwell’s Own Company.

Merriwell’s Fame.

328—F rank
332—Frank
336—Frank
340—Frank

344—F rank Merriwell on the Boulevards.

348—Frank
352—Frank

356—Frank Merriwell’s Baseball Victories

3590—Frank
362—Frank
305—F rank
368—F rank
371—F rank
374—F rank
377—Frank
380—F rank
383—Frank
386—Frank
3890—F rank
3902—F rank
305—Frank
398—Frank
401—Frank
404—Frank
407—F rank
410—Frank
413—Frank
416—Frank

Merriwell’s Prosperity.
Merriwell’s Stage Hit.

Merriwell’s Great Scheme.

Merriwell in England.

Merriwell’s Duel.
Merriwell’s Double Shot.

Merriwell’s Confidence.
Merriwell’s Auto.
Merriwell’s Fun.
Merriwell’s Generosity.
Merriwell’s Tricks.
Merriwell’s Temptation.
Merriwell on Top.
Merriwell’s Luck.
Merriwell’s Mascot.
Merriwell’s Reward.
Merriwell’s Phantoin.
Merriwell’s Faith.
Merriwell’s Victories.
Merriwell’s Tron Nerve.
Merriwell in Kentucky.
Merriwell’s Power.
Merriwell’s Shrewdness.
Merriwell’s Set-hack.
Merriwell’s Search.
Merriwell’s Club. ~

419—Frank Merriwell’s Trist.

422—Frank
425—Frank
428—Frank

431—Frank

434—F rank

Merriwell’s False Friend.
Merriwell’s Strong Arm,
Merriwell as Coach.
Merriwell’s Brother.
Merriwell’s Marvel.

 

312—Frank Merriwell’s Colleve Chums.

316—Frank Merriwell’s Problem.
320—Frank Merriwell’s Fortune.
324—Frank Merriwell’s New Comedian.

*

437—Frank Merriwell’s Supnort.
440—Dick Merriwell at Fardale.
443—Dick Merriwell’s Glory.

446—Dick Merriwell’s Promise.

STREET & SMITH, Publishers,

Merriwell’s Rescue.
Merriwell’s Narrow Escape.
Merriwell’s Racket.
Merriwell’s Revenge.
Merriwell’s Ruse.
404—Dick Merriwell’s Delivery.
467—Dick Merriwell’s Wonders.
470—Frank Merriwell’s Honor.
473—Dick Merriwell’s Diamond.
476—Frank Merriwell’s Winners.
4790—Dick Merriwell’s Dash.
482—Dick Merriwell’s Ability.
485—Dick Merriwell’s Trap.
488—Dick Merriwefl’s Defense.
491—Dick Merriwell’s Model.
404—Dick Merriwell’s Mystery.
497—Frank Merriwell’s Backers.
500—Dick Merriwell’s Backstop.
503—Dick Merriwell’s Western Mission.
506—Frank Merriwell’s Rescue.
509—Frank Merriwell’s Encounter.
512—Dick Merriwell’s Marked Money.
515—Frank Merriwell’s Nomads.
518—Dick Merriwell on the Gridiron.
s21—Dick Merriwell’s Disguise.

449—Dick
452—Dick
455—Dick
458—Dick
461—Dick

Published About July 13th.

524—Dick Merriwell’s Test.

Published About August 3rd.
527—Frank Merriwell’s Trump Card.

Published About August 24th.
530—Frank Merriwell’s Strategy.

Published About September 14th.

533—Frank Merriwell’s Triumph.

Published About October 5th
536—Dick Merriwell’s Grit.

NEw YORK CITY