{ icanYouth J 3 CENTS J While the bull was thus partly blinded, Merri- well seized and dragged the helpless boy aside. The tremendous crowd cheered wildly as they beheld this fearless act of the voung American. Srresp & Sarr, 7 Y @L/s HERS, NEW YORK. — a face pn amen ——-—. —-~~+14g IS gorge. — Issued Weekly. By subscription $2.50 per year. Entered as Second-class Matter at the N. V. Post Office, by STREET & SMITH, 79-89 Seventh Ave., NV. ¥. Copyright, 1910, dy STREET & SMITH. No. 724. NEW YORK, February 26, 1910. Price Five Cents. Frank Merriwell, the Always Ready; OR, THE MYSTERY OF MIGUEL TORO. By BURT L. STANDISH. f CHAPTER I. s RECKLESS RIDERS. ‘“Look out!” Shouts, cries, clattering of hoofs ‘announced the headlong, neck approach of two horsemen—small, wiry, dark rattling of loose stones, and a wild break- men—who came tearing madly down the narrow mountain trail. : . On one side of the trail was a precipice, at the bot- tom of which, hundreds of feet below, lay a great On the other side the mountain rose steep and rocky and grim. Over this dangerous and narrow road four travelers ‘There was barely room for two persons to pass in safety, and had been slowly and cautiously proceeding. now these reckless riders came dashing upon the party of four like men fleeing from destruction. - The quartette of travelers was made up of Frank Merriwell and his faithful friends, old Joe Crowfoot, Terry O'Hara, and Joshua Crane. They were bound for the Bolivian: city of Corrales, said to be an amazingly thriving and prosperous place, although located in a wild country fully one hundred miles from the nearest railroad. Frank had explained to his associates that he expected to meet an old friend and college mate in Corrales. “look out!” to his mates as the reckless riders appeared. At the same instant, al- ‘he prepared to meet the It was Merry who cried ways ready for anything, emergency. “Great jumpin’ geewhiliken jingoes!” spluttered Joshua Crane, who, a long, lank Yankee, had the pronounced nasal tone of a down-easter and a dia- lect that corresponded. “Git: reddy for a smash up, everybody! There’s sartainly goin’ to be a ‘tarnal mixed up mess in a jiffy!” ‘ara’s harp!”’ palpitated O’Hara, the Irish sant: “Pwhat ails the spalapanes? Have they gone crazy entoirely, Oi dunno?” é Old Joe Crowfoot wasted neither time nor breath in words, but imitated Frank Merriwell’s example and leaped to the ground, springing forward to meet the strangers. Merry, full in the middle of the narrow. road, pulled a pair of pistols, and shouted clearly and distinctly in Spanish: \ “Stop—stop, or I'll shoot your horses under you!” This he meant to do as a last resort to prevent the — ‘ PEE LOR / inevitable mix-up and calamity which must follow in case the strangers dashed headlong upon them. dark men heard Frank’s words, Instantly they did Those two small, saw his pistols, and understood. their best to check and restrain the animals, which they had been prodding and goading into madness only a moment before. One of the horses set its feet and came sliding down the road, tearing up atiny cloud of dust and setting a small avalanche into motion. Fortunately, the ground was solid enough to prevent a landslide of any impor- tance. of his companion, and the cruel bit he used quickly The other man fought to imitate the example brought flecks of bloody foam to the mouth of his horse. f Ten feet from Merriwell the leader succeeded in * stopping. The horse of the other man struck against the animal in advance and was checked. “Just in time,’ said Frank calmly and grimly. “I I hadn’t felt sure you would succeed, I would have dropped your horses thirty feet farther away.” “Ugh?” , produced a pistol. | Strong who likewise had Why no shoot- grunted old tie Crowfoot, “Heap much toate’ ' um anyhow, » bullet on horse.” Which meant that, had Frank commenced firing at the horses, Crowfoot would have chosen the riders eer for his, targets. “Begobs, it’s a bloodthirsty mood Sir Joseph is im the day!’ muttered Terry O’Hara. ‘The aould bhoy hasn't lifted < be itching to entwoine eae in the | t aven locks. av 1 scalp for so long that his fingers do some careless gint that nades scalping.” as “The dinged old critter sartainly does git sorter ugly .and sulky sometimes,’ nodded Crane., ‘There ain't nobody kin seem to handle him except Frank. ~ With Frank he’s just as docile and peaceable as aour cosset lambs uster be on the old farm to. hum.” ‘The strangers were talking at meth time, which made it almost im- possible to understand a word they said. jabbering away excitedly, hpth “Let up on that chatter!’ commanded Frank. “Shut up, both of you—shut up, I say!” He enforced obedience with a threatening movement of the pistols. \ - Squawking in terror, the strangers begged him not ‘to shoot and then became silent. j said Merry sharply, “you may speak. What's your name?” I am an honest man. I am——” pointing at one of WEEKLY. Heart? Old Joe he waste no. my friends—follow swiftly. “That will do; What’s the othe: one’s name?” that’s enough. “It’s Recedo, sefor,’ answered the other fellow. 9 “We have done nothing—— “Stop it!” again interrupted Merry. ‘Answer my questions. What do you mean by dashing down this dangerous road in such a mad manner ?” “The—the horses, senor—our mounts—they became frightened and unmanageable.” “Don't lie, Pietro,” “You stopped your horses when you knew you-had to do it. said Frank, scornfully. I want the truth. You must have seen us coming up the road. You made the dash for some reason of your own. Did you expect to drive us over the preci- pice, or were you trying to ride past check you?’ “Oh, senor, [ am an honest man!” protested Pietro. “[ swear by the saints we did not know you were here.” “Senior, world,’ we would not,speak an untruth for the “asserted Recedo. “I, too, declare by all things above ‘and below that we did not see—— Joe Crowfoot. swearing!’ exclaimed Merriwell, e s that? I hear a ery—a faint ery “Weap much, lie!” growled old “Stop your false i in disgust. “What’ for help.” “Oh, it is the unfortunate “Oh, it is frightful} such a’ misfortune, such a death!’ senor!” gasped Pietro. “There’s' sartainly somebody hollerin’,” gurgled Josh Crane. “Speak the truth and speak quickly !” that was absolutely ordered Frank, in a manner terrifying to Pietro and Recedo. “Who is it calling, and what has hap- pened to him?” “Tt is the Senor replied Pie- tro. “We attempted to convey him by the short road for he did employ Augusto Leopoldina,” over these mountains to Corrales, us so to do. became frightened, unmanageable “Quick! shot forth Yell us!” “The sefior’s horse,”’ Merry. said Recedo, * and plunging. | could not — that frightened the animal. The senor control the creature, and it plunged headlong over aie’ precipice, carrying him to death.” “Gee whiz!” way he’s piping up he ain't dead yit, Frank.” was the word Wess ‘hited at the two. Follow, exploded Crane. “Cowards!’ small dark men. “You ‘have deserted him! Bring my horse: ere we could - Yonder, above, his horse—his horse it Oh, it is terrible!” ; “What happened ? ‘began rearing: . t } x3 Shes Ih [ think it was a serpent on the road”! “Cording to the i Ce ee ————_ -¢--— af nn Saline ping talline itcetiepine nas ies a ae i tS acne clic a ening sensation. torn and a bit of it broken away, as if some huge body had slipped over while vainly trying to avoid taking the frightful plunge. | PC SOP He dashed past Pietro and Recedo, and went bound- ing up the road. Old Joe Crowfoot followed on foot, horse, as well as Frank’s, to the care of Crane and O’Hara. Seeing this, Pietro spoke hastily in a low tone to leaving his his comrade. “It is now our opportunity!” he breathed. “Only two are before us.” Recedo answered with a hissing word, and sud- denly the two desperate scoundrels urged their mounts onward once more. Fortunately, there was room for them to pass the two horses left free and loose by Merriwell and Crow- foot. “Let the blamed critters go, Terry!” cried Josh, as he reined his own horse close to the face of the rocky precipice. ‘‘Mebbe they'll break their *tarnal necks, anyhaow.”’ O'Hara longed to check the fleeing men, but he was likewise intensely curious to learn just. what had hap- pened to their late companion, and therefore, rather than be delayed, he let them go brushing past at that breakneck pace. “Go on, ye thaves av the world!” he yelled. ‘“There’s a bit av a bend down yonder, and maybe ye will take a jump av a few hundred feet into the botthom av the little ditch to the right av yez.” “Come on, Terry,” urged Josh, “let’s git up there and find aout what’s doin’.’ Securing the horses of their friends, they hurried as fast as possible up the road, while the fleeing men passed from sight below. CHAPTER II. THE RESCUE. Bounding with all possible speed up the road, Frank listened for a repetition of those cries. They came again as he reached a point where the road narrowed and curved round some outjutting rocks. At the edge of the road, upon the brink of the precipice, he saw something that gave his heart a sick- There the loose ground had been Ina moment Frank was looking downward over the precipice. He had dropped on his hands and knees ° to do this,’ and as he leaned far out he felt the hand WEEKLY. 3 of old Joe Crowfoot gripping the collar of his shirt to support him and prevent any possibility of a fall. Below Frank the precipice fell away at a sharp in- cline, along the face of which a few scrubby bushes and vines were clinging. Down through those bushes and vines a path had been cut by some sliding object. Twenty-five or thirty feet below the level of the road the face of the precipice suddenly dropped straight downward, and there, within a yard or two of that precipitous drop, was a dust-covered, white-faced man His left hand grasped some clinging for dear life. bushes, while the fingers of his right had been thrust into a little crack in the face 6f a ledge. Instantly Frank knew something of what had hap- raked that path down pened. The man’s horse had the sloping incline. At this moment the poor creature was lying dead far down in the depths of the gorge. Apparently, as the horse slid over the brink from the road its rider had flung himself from the saddle He also had slid he now hung, clawing at the in an effort to save his own life. down to the point where ground, grasping at bushes that gave way in his hands, and ‘doing everything possible to check his descent. At last his hand had seized some bushes which held long enough for him to fasten the other hand in that rift in the ledge. And there he dangled, panting, exhausted, sick with the horror of his position, his féet projecting beyond the point where the.precipice fell away at a ae dicular. : : “Hold fast!’ cried Merry, lifting his voice. on, my friend, and we'll try to save you!” @ The miserable man turned his pale face upward, and Frank never forgot the look of terror and appeal in the eyes which gazed at him from below. “For the love of Heaven hasten, sefior!’’ panted the unfortunate. ‘The roots of the bush are giving way! My strength is almost exhausted. Help me quickly, “Hang or I perish!” A “Where's your horse, Crowfoot? Where’s the rope you always carry?” asked Frank. “Left horse,” answered old Joe. fellers to bring him.” “Great mercies! We cannot do anything without Unless we get busy instantly that man “Tell-um other that rope ! must drop.” “Here come other fellers/ here come horses, Crowfoot. Josh and Terry appeared urging the horses to scram- ble up the road as fast as possible. | ce 8 Frank was on | his, feet in a twinkling. ‘To the side, ”? said TIP of Crowfoot’s horse he dashed, se the Indian’s coiled lariat which hung from the saddle horn. With the rope in his hands he ran back, shouting for Crane and O'Hara to lose not a hand, jiffy in giving a side of the On the inner road Merry's eyes, discov- ered an upward projecting bit of rock to which the 1 nught be rope attached. He flung the noose over that point, and in a twinkling was again looking down at the Here’s hold of it He tosserl the coil from him, imperiled man. Frank. “If we'll pull your up.” a rope!” cried you can get in order that it might fall without delay within reach of that man. It spun out and dropped two feet or more to the man’s right. “Get hold of it!’ Frank. “We'll you up here if you can hang on,” spluttered Crane, sartainly is in an allfired 5 directed bring’ “Geewhiliken jingoes!” looking downward. “That feller scrape.” agreed O’Hara. loike to change places wid the gintleman.”’ “That's pwhat he is,” The man seemed to make an attempt to reach for the rope, but in order to do so he had to withdraw his crevice in the rocks, as it was neces- The moment he did this the fingers from the sary to use that hand. fbush began to tear loose from the roots, and, with yA G WA asp, ne once more fastened his hold upon the, ledge. “It's impossible, my friends—impossible!” he called faintly. doubt if L should be able to cling to it while you lifted me.” “Get hold of this rope,” his comrades, “T cannot get the rope. Even if [ could, ] directed Frank, speaking to “One of you make sure it doesn’t slip from the rock yonder. down there.” “Thutteration !” that trick Even as Josh spoke Merry I’m going gurgled Crane. “I. wouldn't. try and seventy-five cents.”’ , having knelt at the edge fortwo dollars of the incline, swung iseicale over and started to de- scend. In doing this he set loose some earth and rocks, which rattled and rained about the ears of the cling- ane man. | : “Got to be careful,” y m not, I'll set to carry him over the precipice.” As it was, several stones, breathed Frank to himself, “If enough of this loose stuff im motion iS some as large as cocoa- nuts, had rolled and bounded past the unfortunate man Below and a smother of dust filled his ey es s and TOP izing and releasing “Oi'd| not agony as only one may feel when he WEEKLY. much more e slowly than he otherwise would 1 He could hear th to descend have done. e€ man gasping and groan- ing faintly. “Hold fast!” he cried encouragit ngly. “lim coming! I'll reach you in a moment.” ~My. strength—my senors:- J fall! J Yes, you can, uling, strength is fz 4 must can t— “ec maintain my hold—any longer!” * declared Frank, “Only a few sec- onds. You must. and Let me get within reach of you and I'll save you.” “Hang on, mister!” “Frank with yeou in a jiffy, and 99 piped Crane excitedly. Merrtwell is goin’ to be right if he ever gits a holt on ye yeou’ll be all right. O’Hara was shaking like a leaf, although, watching that the noose did not slip from the rocky point, he could not observe Frank’s progress. Old Joe Crowfoot was the only one who seemed absolutely calm and unconcerned. Noting this, Crane snarled resentfully : | “Hang an Injun, anyhaow! Never nothin’ seems to disturb the critters. Ain’t you got no feelin’s, Shangywar ?” “Ugh! What use to get excited? No good. No help anybody. ) Mebbe it hurt. You get-um excited, loose head, make heap big fool.” “What's doing down below, Josh?” asked Terry. “If ye don’t be after telling me quick Oj7’ll punch yez the first chance Oi have.” “If yeou ever done that I’d take yeou over my checkered apron and make a few applications of palm — oil to a certain part of'your person where it wou Idd lo’ flung back the Yankee. “Fratik’s almost daown there. If the feller kin hang 6n a leetle — hell git him.” i the most go6d,” bit longer Indeed, Merry was almost within reach of the man, whose face was now set withsuch an expression of realizes, in the full tide of health, that death is reaching for him Wither ek did he have breath to edie its clammy hands. No longer utter a single word. His fingers were slowly relaxing their hold upon'the rocky ledge, and the bush was tor n free save by its main root. pra tert and lower. Taking a turn ‘of © the rope round one leg and one arm, he reached out Frank crept lower with his free hand and fastened a grip upon the man’ a t the back of the neck. As he did this. the bush gave way and the stranger's fingers slipped from the rock, “i The strain of their double weight came full upon | the rape, but Merriwell had evieined a firm ai and. woolen shirt at + — a oe Speen sane te rE eee _ the unconscious man’s shirt at the throat. O'Hara, fan him.” Aty he held the man dangling with his body half over the brink, “Pull away!” shouted Frank. “Pull us up till I call for you to stop.” at dragged the two men up the face of the Crowfoot, Crane, and O'Hara obeyed Slowly they once. incline. “Hold!” cried Merriwell. “Hold on, Terry! Dog rabbit it, why don’t yeou stop!’ cried Josh, as the excited Irish lad continued to pull. “Jest hang fast right where yeou be.” Frank had seen a point y;where he could obtain a foothold, and, having accomplished this, he was able to drag the stranger up beside him: “Get yout feet into that crack,” said Merry. But the stranger did not respond. He lay limp and Merti- well realized that the neck of the man’s shirt had shut unconscious beside the young American, and off his wind and choked him into a condition of abso- lute and utter helplessness. This made it necessary for Frank to perform an almost Herculean task. tested, His own strgpgth was being and he knew it would not do to waste time. Therefore he again shouted for his friends to pull away. They were almost too enthusiastic in their efforts. Still Merriwell kept his grip upon the stranger, and finally his head and shoulders .were lifted above the aa level of the road. Old Joe bent and fastened both hands upon Frank, and a moment later, aided by Crane, Merry back to safety and was lifting the unconsciots stranger. CHAPTER III. THE MAN FROM SPAIN. : Terry O’Hara danced and whooped for joy, ie “Tara’s harp!” “Who ivver saw the loilee av it!” he cried. said Frank, as he tore open Grane, “Crowfoot, your’ flask,” ! Directed by Merry, they set about trying to restore the rescued man to consciousness. Stranger showed some fully ee a few, drops: of the yee between his As soon as the signs of reviving, Frank care- ’ grunted TOP WEEKLY. he had dragged “up at Merry. ing down courage. I Crowfoot; * Much fine for snake bite.” en an old deacon in the chur sn sometime heap bad. agreed Joshua Crane. “I once heared of rch who was a strict teetotaler that kept some pet snakes to bite him abaout so often so that he’d have a good excuse for gittin’ saoused with fire-water.”’ The stranger choked and moaned. His ey elids flut- tered and finally lifted. “No help!” he gasped Spanish. “I am falling! L am lost!” “You are safe, “Vou cannot senor,’ said Merry. fall now.” The man did not seem to realize. se breaking!” he panted in gone! My [he bush—the bush is “My aN Me iain Ha slippine—slipping——— “Let them slip,” frantically can’t fall. safe.” horror. strength—is fingers are laughed Frank, as the man clawed with both “You We have lifted you'to the road, and you're on the ground hands. Still, in a sort of delirium, the unfortunate wretch 4 continued to struggle. “Pietro, [Recedo, you cowards—you curs!” — he panted. “You have betrayed me!” : | “Them’s the two gents that made at us in: such a 4 mighty hurry,” muttered Josh Crane. “TI cal’late them a critters done this poor feller a dirty turn.” Le did,” Terry O’Hata. “We nivver\ought to have let them get away ‘at all, at all.” : “Ugh! no shoot. um.” “That's pwhat they growled ’ grunted Crowfoot. “Heap big mistake Joe Frank grasped the man wrists and held them as gently leaning forward to speak in a soft, soothing tone. as he could, \ There is nd need to strug- calm you will realize that you are “Be quiet, my friend. gle. If you'll be now quite safe.” There seemed to be magic in that voice and those words, for the stranger grew quiet, and lay aS he-whis+» “T saw you, my brave friend—I saw you look- You called and bade me have saw you descending the ropé, but my hands—I could cling no longer. I fell!” am “You didn't fall,” said Frank. “If you had you'd not be here; you'd lie dead down in the bottom of the gotge beside vour poor horse. I reached: you just in! times) 35 on a Ea ae .“You—you were trying to save me, sefior,’ pered. upon me. “Dios! Is it possible! It must be, for I still live. It must be, for you are here with me. I cannot un- » derstand.” “Don’t try to understand now. Don’t trouble your brain about it at present. ‘There’s plenty of time. Swallow a bit more of this liquor. It will give you strength and life.” The man was lifted gently at Frank’s suggestion, ‘sand the flask was tipped to his lips. He took another swallow, and slowly the full blood of life began to recourse through his veins. ; “It’s a marvel—a marvel beyond belief!” he mut- tered. “I gave myself up for lost. I thought that I fell. Senor, you saved me.”’ % “Not aloné,”* said Frank. “I’m afraid the task would have been altogether too much for me. We saved you——my friends and myself.” “It was a most brave and noble thing to do, for you certainly placed yourself in great peril for one you had never before seen. Are you an Englishman?” i “Hardly: I am an American—from North Amer- =~ fica.” “The good old' United States of Ameriky is praoud to claim him for a citizen, by gum!” said Crane. “An American—from the United States. We were once led to believe that all such people were selfish | and cowardly.” \ \ % “Ugh!” grunted old Joe Crowfoot. “No savvy Dago talk.” i With this remark he produced his old black pipe, ; found a place where he could sit on the ae with ' his back against a wall of stone, and prepared to enjoy i FPO TRE Tes are ‘ EZ et a smoke. Apparently, all that had taken place ad not even ruffled his nerves. Ps “Look out for the horses, Terry,’ directed Frank. “I gee one of them is stré aying back down the road. Don’t let him get away, for he might give you a long chase of it.”’ _ So Terry started after the straying horse to capture _and bring the animal back. | Se Het “ * and sought to look the gratitude his tongue could not express. | *T shall never forget what you have this day done for me, sefior,” he declared. “How could I ever for- - get it? If it might some time be in my power to ~~ show how deeply I appreciate your brave deed i Pa “Oh, never mind that,’ smiled Merry. “You're ~~ coming round as fine as a top. It certainly was a close call; but we people of North America have a , way of saying that a’miss is as good as a mile.” TIP TOP WEEKLY. The rescued man grasped Frank Merriwell’s hands / “Sefior, your name.” “Frank Merriwell.”’ “Mine is Augusto Leopoldina.”’ “That sartainly is a maouthful,” muttered Crane to himself. “‘Still, he spits it gout jest as if it didn’t give him no pain a’ tall.” “[ am a native of Spain,’ explained the rescued man. “I do not belong in this country.” , “Something I had already learned from your pure Castilian accent,’ nodded Merry. “Would you tell me, Sefior Merriwell, whither you are bound, and how it chanced that you were here to save me?” “Business brought me to South America. With my friends 1 am on my way to Corr ales, where I hope to find an old college friend.”’ “And I, too, am bound for Corrales. Wishing to make haste, | employed two companions to escort me over the mountains rather than follow the road all the way round, which is many times as far.” “And that’s precisely why we chose the same road,” said Frank. “We met your two companions, I fancy.” wlhe scounggels! The treacherous dogs!” ex- claimed Leopoldina. “Why they should wish to de- stroy me [ cannot surmise.” “Then they were responsible for the plight in which ve found you?” “Listen, sefior. We had arrived at this point. One of those rascals, Pietro, was riding in advance, the > . other following behitid me. Right here Pietro took the inside of the road and suddenly swung his horse against mine, forcing my animal to face outward. At the same moment Recedo spurred up behind and jabbed his knife into my.animal, causing it to leap toward the brink of the precipice. “The poor horse tried to save himself,'and while it was scrambling and clinging on the very edge I made an effort to leap back to the road. It was too late. The horse went down and I followed, sliding and efasping at anything and everything to check my de- scent. In this manner I seized bush after bush which gave way in my hands, At last, at the spot where you saw me, I succeeded in getting a: hold which pre- vented me from plunging at once down to death, It was a fearful experience.” , The speaker was shivering and ay ering in every lirtib. “You'd better not talk about it now,” said pee 6 - “What has become of those murderous wretches ?’’ “lm afraid they’re miles away by this time. There is a bare possibility fret they might be overtaken, al- eri eee a . . ee £ Py 3 ie r oo ics on . +g si ~ . ‘ « = sn anceps Ietnanaih —a te Atanas 1% \* though I doubt it greatly. Still, 1f you wish we'll make an attempt to capture them.” “No, I’m sure you're right in saying it would be useless. You must not leave me, my friends. I am still feeble with horror and exhausted from my ef- forts to save myself. You have been wonderfully kind to me. If you will permit it, 1 will journey with you into Corrales.” “Your company will be most acceptable, Sefor Leo- poldina,” assured Frank. “Gall derned if he don’t say it jest as well as t’other feller!” stand this ere Dago lingo purty niuttered Josh in wonderment. “I kin under- fairly sartainly does tie up my tongue when I try to tall it.” 4 well, but it In time the man recovered enough to sit in the sad- dle of Frank’s horse when he was lifted to that posi- tion. He protested against riding while Merry walked, but Merry laughed at this, saying: “It will do me good to stretch my legs, senior. If I should wish to ride any one of my friends will be ready to change places with me. Now we'll be off, for we still have many, miles to cover before we reach Corrales.” CHAPTTR IV. THE SPANIARDS STORY. Descending the mountains, they halted at last by - gushing wayside spring. Below them s®retched a broad _and inviting prospect, and away down in a great valley they could see the distant city of Corrales, for w hich they were bound. rounded that valley. ened by a purplish haze. “A finer place to rest and lunch could not be found,” leclared Frank. is a little strip of grass _ where the horses may graze. Here by the spring there is shade and a soft cool breeze.” “And Iam much exhausted,” --pok lina, as he slipped from the’ saddle. drink of that glorious water!’ On every hand the mountains sur- ‘In the distance they were soft- “VY onder Augusto Leo- “Aht for a said Frank produced a pocket drinking cup, and the _ Spaniard was thie first to quench his thirst, after which the others followed his example. The horses, having _ drunk from a pool below the spring, were picketed ‘upon that little grassy slope. A hamper pack of food was prodght and opened ‘hear the spring. _“Hornswizzle‘me if I ain’t hongry as a bear,” aughed , Josh Crane. sion in South America. fe “I'd sorter forgot all abaout TIP TOP WEEKLY. - eatin’ till I see this ere grub, and now I could eat a fried side of sole luther.” “It’s a good appetite ye have, Joshua,’ nodded “Oji’ve nivver no- modest about it.” Terry, with a grin and a wink, ticed annything delicate or “Oh, I guess yeou kin surround yeour share of the provender,’ flung back the Yankee. “I’ve alwus noticed that yeou was right araound at feedin’ time, hands.”’ , Ord join a so: Oi and yeou generally git busy with both “If Oi could ate as much as you, Josh dime museum as the would. It’s champion hungry mon, a foine salary ye would draw.” ain't ye?” you're g0-.« “Yeou're alwus slurring abaout somethin’, Mister O’ Hara, and I’ll do some things to snapped Crane. in’ to git me sorter riled up, “Bimeby, yeou that’ll cause “Josh, it’s moind ixprissing public, ye a heap of grief.” which Oi don’t thot you're the biggest case me proivate opinion, av bluff Oi’ve ivver seen in me loife. | You’re always after troying to froighten some wan wid your ¢ehin music. If ye ivver attimpted to put wan av your hands on me Oi’d break yez up into cordwood lengths.” I'll give ye a chance to rasped Crane, Terry. I guess, by “Naow gum, show what yeou can do breakin’ me up!” as he spat on his hands and started for “Cut. tt; out PY while Sefor Leopoldina gazed at his fractious companions: “T thought you boys had quit cried Frank fauthoritatively, in some apprehension. that btsiness.”’ ” said Crane; “but it’s more’n hurnan nater kin stand to have that little tunt of an Irishman all the a feller the way he brads me. Bimeby I’m goin’ to smash him without givin’ him no notice a’ tall, and they'll have to “I’m naterally peaceable disppsed, time braddin’ pick him up on a shovel arter | hit him.” Despite all this talk, in less than five minutes Josh and Terry were hobnobbing and joking and chuckling over the hamper of food. = There was enough for all, even Crane ash an-"~ nouncing that he was fully satisfied. wis They continued to rest for a while beside the spring, Josh and Terry stretching themselves upon the ground, while Crowfoot squatted cross-legged, with his old red blanket pulled about him, and smoked his ore P pipe. . agg RIS Frank chatted with Augusto Leopoldina, and Snails , of his own accord, the man told the story of his mis-— “T am anagent sent here in search of a young man, who is now the heir of a vast estate,” began the Span- iard. “It ig a story of much romance, my friends. It. TIP is a strange story, indeed. Many José del Norte and Rofino Rosario were bitter political ' enemies in Spain. In spite of all this, Senor Del Norte wooed and won Senor Rosario’s sister. The marriage, however, did not bring friendship between these bitter enemies. Not even when a beautiful baby girl was born to Senor del Norte did Senor Rosario yield the least. a “Then came a revolution, in which Sefor Rosario was allied with the enemies of the government. The revolutionists had planned to overthrow the ‘existing could strike effectively order of things, but ere they they were exposed. In this exposure José del Norte ,took an active part, and it was he who won the most credit and honor in preserving the stability of the gov- ernment. Many leaders of the revolutionists were cap- tured and executed. There was a reward offered for the capture of Sefior Rosario. wild beast, and: at last, beset on every hand, he ap- peared at night and appealed to’ José del Norte for protection. “In spite of their enmity, ' entreaties of his wife, Rosario’s sister, and _ fugitive shelter He was hunted like-a Del Norte listened to the gave the and hiding beneath his own bat One ti would have thought, my friends, that such an act of ‘ prperoaily as this would have won the gratitude of f ~ Rosario.” be “Naturally,” nodded Frank. : “It did not, however,” continued Leopoldina. ‘Even ie while hidden beneath José del Norte’s roof. Rofino a Rosario hated him with all the bitterness of which i he was capable. Even while hidden and protected thus he planned to strike his protector a fearful blow. At least, this is what was believed at one time by Del Norte. Del Norte having been dead for more than a year. There is now some doubt, “But I will tell my story in order, as it should be told. In some way José del Norte planned to aid Ro- sario in escaping from the country. carried into exécution, and the fugitive found shelter and safety in Morocco. At the very last, it is said, _ Del Norte told Rosario to his face that what he did “was solely because of his wife, and not through any pity or consideration for his old-time enemy. “Six months after escape little Carlotta _ del Norte, not yet two years of age, was kidnapped. - There is no need to give the details of this. The child _disappeared/as completely as if it had been caught up into the sky. All efforts to learn what had’bhecome of it were fruitless. The father was frantic! and the mother crazed with grief. Great rewards were of- Rosario’s ee years ago Sefior The plan was’ WEEKLY. fered, for José del Norte was a man of much wealth. All these rewards were powerless to restore the lost child to her parents, and at last, discouraged and bro- ken-hearted, Sefiora del Norte died. “A year passed, and then José del Norte received from the United States a letter signed by Rofino Ro- sario, which was full of taunting and mockery—which stated that Rosario himself had stolen the child and had her in his possession. “Del Norte immediately United States, They found him, sent trusted agents to the and these agents found Rofino Rosario. but they did not find the missing declared Having child. When accused Rosario laughed and that ke had stated a falsehood in his letter. learned of Del Norte’s great affliction, he had written that letter in order that he might add to the father’s distress and anguish. He swore that he knew nothing of the missing child, and had taken no part in her ab- duction. “For more than a year after cretly watched by Del Norte’s agents, who thought it possible that they might thus find some trace of the this Rosario was se- missing child. In, the end they'gave up the task, satis- fied that Rosario had either spoken the truth in declar- ing he ‘knew nothing of little Carlotta, or else that the child was already dead. “T have not mentioned the fact that Rofino Rosario had a son, Dorrego, who must now be a young man in his prime. States. It has Only been learned of late that the exiled father and son were This was learned By the terms of were living in this country, Bolivia. when José del Norte came to die. Sefiora del N6rte’s bequests, her husband was to hold,~ At his death the prop- erty was to descend to the son of her brother, Dorrego Rosario. This became permissible, as Dorrego’s fa- ther was no longer recognized as a legal citizen of Spain. 7 “It became necessary to find Dotrego if he still lived. At last both he and his father were located be- yond question in the city of Corrales, I, sefior, haye been sent here to meet them and to satisfy them with all her property while he lived. proofs that, as there is now no doubt concerning the death of Sefiora del Norte’s only child, her nephew. Dorrego, is the heir to a splendid estate in Spain. “T was able to travel by rail as far as Caldas Novas. From that point it became necessary to make the re- mainder of the journey over these mountains. To | pursue the usual road would require many days; to. cross the mountains dnly two days would be neces- Patents Dorrego joined his father in the United — no longer in the United States, but —e 5 . ¥ a ‘tee ae sary. I made known the fact that I would pay well for trusty guides and companions to escort me over the mountains. | secured those rascals, Pietro and Recedo, but why they should have tried to destroy me is more than I can understand.” “Was it not plunder they were after?’ asked Frank. They, made no effort to rob me. They made no attempt to) secure the money “How could it be, senor? and valuables upon my person. Their one attempt was to kill me, and only for you and your brave com- rades they would have succeeded. Had I fallen into that great chasm I see no way that they could have found my body and robbed me. I am satisfied, sefiors, that behind their action there was a purpose | have not fathomed.” “Waal,” said Joshua Crane, who had been listening intently and had succeeded in following Leopoldina’s story, “if any of this bunch ever runs up ag’inst them fellers agin theyll git it right slap-bang from the shoulder.” Frowning a bit, Frank sat thinking as he gazed downward toward the distant city of Corrales. Final- ly, nodding slightly, he said: “Sefior Leopoldina, I think you are right in be- lieving those murderous wretches were impelled by a mysterious reason. It could not be that they would ‘seek to kill you merely for the pleasure they could Something teils me that it will be well enough for you to keep constantly on [ have a fear that this may not be the last find in such a fearful deed. guard. _time your life is placed in jeopardy.” CHAPTER V. THE BOY FUGITIVE. It was drawing toward sunset as they approached . ~ : o /, ' « the city of Corrales, which, from the lower slope of of the almost the mountain, had strongly reminded Frank architectttre wholly Spanish in design, the buildings being of adobe, ,towns of old Spain. The was stone, and stucco, with white walls and tinted roofs. I fancy we'll find Corrales rather gay,” said Frank, - “for this is the time of the regular ‘Fete la Cochimba.’ For a week each year, I have heard, they celebrate _ this féeté in Corrales, and people journey from near and far to witness the sports and take part in the -_ feasting and merry making.” “Dinged if these ‘ere South Ameriky people don’t a Cale fe s * . * - - seem to be whoopin’ it up all the time with some sort at ae ( WEEKLY. oe 9 of a blowaout,” laughed Crane. “They’re great crit- ters for feastin’ and dancin’ and sportin’ and havin’ a gineral good time.” “But it’s speech making they loike to do bist av all,” put in Terry O'Hara. The rest by the roadside spring had seemed to re- store Leopoldina in a most satisfactory manner, and he now appeared as vigorous and eager as any of them to come to an end of the journey. As they advanced along the dusty road Frank’s at- tention was suddenly attracted by the sight of a mov- ing object which seemed suddenly to squirm or crawl behind the screening protection of some roadside bushes. Curiosity led Merry to investigate, and, to his surprise and that of his companions, he dragged a slender, pale-faced boy out of the bushes. This boy, who had pleading black eyes, a sensitive mouth, and somewhat.delicate features, was trembling with apparent terror. \ “Oh, sefior,” he pleaded, “let me go—please do, senor! Don’t make me go back to Domingo and Sal- vador!” . “Gee whiz!’ muttered Crane. “ ler is scat almost to death! ter with him.” Che poor little fel- 1 wonder what's the mat- “We're not going to harm you, my lad,” assured Merry. . “Then fet me go, senor—please let me go! I sought to hide until you should pass.” “Where are you going?” “T don’t know.” “That's somewhere.” remarkable. You certainly were going “Oh, yes—somewhere, anywhere to get away from Corrales and Domingo!” “Who's Domingo?” : “He is my master.” “Your master? Then you are a servant?” » . “IT am a bull fighter,” explained the. boy, ,with a ~ sudden touch of pride. b igeagt M erry gasped. “A what?’ he exclaimed. “A bull fighter?” “Great geewhiliken' jumpin’ jingoes! he don’t look — it!” spluttered Crane. . “Nivver a bit,’ agreed O'Hara. \“A bull fighter — is it he says, Oi dunno? Begorra, a bull would be after eating him up in no time at all, at all.” : Frank was puzzled. “What do you mean, my boy, by saying that you're | a bull fighter?” he persisted. es “It's true, sefior. I go into the ring with my red. Winey Or am swift on 1e bull’s the bull to pursue me. | | avoid tl cloak and lure my feet. I can dodge like a flash. i rushes again and again. ‘The great crowd cheers and Fe cheers, and at last, when | am weary and I| have sat- isfied the people, It was not easy to believe that this slender, boy, who seemed fearful and timid, was the possessor the arena and perform Domingo slays the bull.” delicate of sufficient courage to enter *.. such-feats. | “Is Domingo a relative of yours?” asked whose interest in the boy was increasing with each Krank, passing moment. fi “No, sefior, he’s not a relative of mine; neither is Salvador, nor Amalia.” if “Who are Salvador and Amalia?” “Salvador is Domingo’s partner, who sometimes takes his place and kills the bull. Amalia is Domingo’s ',_ wife; and, oh, she has been kind to me! It makes a i great grief in my heart that I should have to leave 2 her without once saying adios.” Ae “But why did you leave her?” i Again that look of intense terror crept over the boy's face. “Tt was because there was no other pered. “T fled in fear of my life. I must cross the mountains. I must get away somehow.’ way,” he whis- “Do you expect to cross the mountains afoot and alone? Have you provisions for the journey ?” “No, sefior, “Boy, you would perish of starvation and fatigue, have nothing.” | if you were not destroyed by wild animals. You can- ‘not realize the undertaking you have set out upon. It is madness for you to make such an attempt,” “Oh, but what can I do, seftor—what can I do?’ cried the lad, wringing ig slender hands. “What's your name?” “Tt’s Miguel Toro.” “Well, Miguel, I think 7 must go back to your master.” k “Never! never! Sefior, he would kill me!” “Then he has been cruel to you? He has beaten and abused you?” ~ “Oh, no; never that. Never yet has Domingo lifted his hand to strike me.” | 4 - “This,is a consarned peculiar case,” muttered Crane, seratching his head. “One would think the little fel- ler sartainly must have been walloped to beat the band by his master to make him so dinged seat of the crit- ter. But naow he says Domingo never give him a mete in all his life.” fb WEEKLY. “Why should you Has he * said Merry kindly. fear a master who has never illtreated you? you, \ Miguel,’ not been kind ?”’ Of late, sefior, his I have seen him ‘Oh, yes, once he was vety kind, manner has, changed toward me. looking at me in a way that at first I could not under- stand, although it made me tremble. On our journey to Corrales I first had proof of what was meant by the look I saw in his eyes. We were crossing a stream I attempted to cross upon the trunk of a tree which spanned the i stream from bank to bank, but I lost my balance and t fell in. I cried out, but the water filled my mouth and nose, | , saw Domingo watching me. I saw Salvador start to offer me help, but: Domingo seized and held him. 1 should have drowned had not Amalia rushed the bank, waded in until the water where the water was deep and swift. 1 cannot swim. I was helpless in the water. down was alinost up to her shoulders, and gtasped me as the current bote me past. She conscious, | was almost un- I’m certain Domingo thought [ was un- drew me to the shore. conscious, for when he came and stood looking down at me he called Amalia a crazy fool’ because she had saved me “Although I haven’t an inkling as to Domingo’s motive for wishing to get rid of you,” said Merry, “T’m beginning at last to understand your fear of him, 4 Are you becoming an incumbrance on his hands?’ Are from drowning.” you not serving him well?” 3 “T have never been an incumbrance, sefior, for since e Ky I first learned to taunt and infuriate the bull id the = arena it is what I do that arouses the people to the | greatest enthusiasm, and 1 have heard Domingo him- self say that I was very valuable to him.” air “Frank, there’s sartainly some kind of crooked busi- affair,’ observed Josh. .“’Tain’t — } natteral for a man to want to git rid of a)servant A that’s mighty valuable to him. °*Tain’t human nater. — aid It’s jest as onnateral as f would be for cowcumbers to ewe on punkin vines ! ““There’s ness behind this ere a motive adhd Domingo’s behavior that I have not yet fathomed,” nodded Merry. “Let me, question the boy still further.” Pe a eo Frank turned again to the anxious lad. aie i i 1 | “Miguel,” he said, in his pleasantest and most cone: 2 vincing manner, ‘although we're strangers to At we oY are, nevertheless, your friends. If there is a way by ‘thin which we can prove it, you shall have the staal Tell me truthfully, have you no suspicion, no intima- tion of Domingo’s reasons for wishing to be rid. of 3 your” a ats SI ta Sie woe critter behind it all TEP? TOP. “T cannot understand it, although I feel that Sefor Monreal has something to do with it.” “Then there’s another party in the case. Who is Sefior Monreal ?”’ “He is a gentleman, sefor a man who must have much wealth. Ever since I can remember he has come once a year, at least, to meet Domingo and talk with him privately. He came to-day, three hours ago, and talked with Domingo near our tent. I saw them both look at me, and there was something in their faces which proved that they were talking of me. »I saw Senior Monreal give Domingo money.” “T sorter guess,” observed Crane, “that yeou’re kinder gittin’ down to the bottom of this scaliwag U'll bate old Monreal is the crooked 33 business, Frank. “When Sefior Monreal had departed,” continued Miguel, “I was sent by Domingo! to gather wood for our fire. Returning, I stepped so silently that my mas- ter, talking with Salvador behind the tent, did not hear me approach. They were speaking of me, and | heard Domingo tell Salvador that I must die. I nearly fainted with terror then, for at last I had no doubt—1 knew that my master meant to destroy me.” | “Say,” rasped Crane, “this ere old Domingo orter eit his comeuppance. Somebody orter git at that there critter and everlastingly lambaste the stuffin’ aout of him.” “It is a most remarkable tale, Sefior Merriwell,” murmured Leopoldina in Frank’s ear. “I am almost [ think it may be that the boy has had trouble with his master and wishes to run inclined to doubt its truth. away. He is seeking to justify his action and arouse our sympathy.” “Sefior Leopoldina,’ returned Merry, “I am in- clined to place more. confidence in the veracity of the lad. Somehow, I feel that he is not lying.” Apparently Miguel Toro caught Frank’s final words, for he, quickly cried: : “Oh sefior—dear sefior, I would not lie to you! It is the truth—every word the truth—that I am telling! I knew no one would believe me. I was sure it would be useless to seek friendship and aid from strangers, for they would say that I was lying.” _“T have not doubted you, Miguel,” assured Frank gently. “There’s a mystery behind all this, but doubt- less if we knew the solution We could understand why Domingo is so desirous to be rid of you. _ Will he not let you go in peace? If you promise to depart and trouble him no more, would he mot agree to that?” WEEKLY. If “Oh, never; sefior; never! If he would Id willingly take myself off, for I am sure I could find some method of living. Perhaps I’d never again be compelled to enter the bull ring.” “Then you do not enjoy your profession of bull fighting 2” “Enjoy it, sefior—I detest it! It sickens me. I am Oh, the poor horses—the poor horses goaded by the bulls! And then at last the bull stabbed through the ‘heart with a long, keen sword, and the blood gushing forth! sickened by the sight and smelt of ‘blood. No, sefior—no, no, I hate it all!” é “Waal, I swan to man Mig is a purty sensible sort of a feller!” nodded Crane. “I don’t blame him none for dislikin’ that sorter dirty business. By gum, it would make me sick, too!” said Frank, turning. to his compan- Doubtless Do- mingo has some sort of a legal claim upon him.” “My friends,” ions, “what can we do with,this boy? Old Joe Crowfoot, smoking his pipe, was the only one who seemed absolutely disinterested, and doubt- less this was because he did not understand the story drawn from Miguel’s lips by. Frank’s questions. “It’s a problem, Sefior Merriwell,” said Leopoldina. “T do not feel like offering advice.” “Miguel, do you know anything about your par- ents?” “No, sir, nothing—nothing save what Domingo has told me, which is that both my father and mother are dead + “How long have you been with Domingo?” “Ever since I can remember, senor.” “Has he a legal claim upon you? Can he retain possession of you by law?” “Oh, I think so, sefior—I have no doubt of it.” “But you are not sure. Come back with us into the city, Miguel, and we'll investigate the matter. I will do whatever I can for you.’ br “Oh, no! oh, no! Do not force me to go back there! I cannot! What matters it if I perish in the’ mountains? I may escape. I may cross the moun- I am much stronger than I look—truly, I am You think me weak because I -tains. much stronger, senor. am so slender, but I am not weak.” “Here comes some wan roiding in a divvil av a> hurry,” said Terry O'Hara, Through the gathering shadows three, horsemen _ were approaching at great speed, the hoofs of their — animals clattering on the roadbed ands lifting a little cloud of dust. Va eer _. Immediately Miguel was filled with renewed alarm. “Let me hide!” Yea “Remain where you are, my lad,” it is Domingo, we'll have a little talk. with him.” he entréated, “It may be Domingo!” urged Merry. “If CHAPTER VI. THE MEN WHO CLAIMED THE BOY. As the trio of horsemen came clattering up the boy cowered behind Frank, whispering excitedly and fear- semely that the one.in advance was Domingo. Domingo proved to be a man above medium size, powerfully built, yet quick and supple, with a siender waist and the lower limbs of a sprinter. is fierce black upward-pointing mustache and eyes, dark He had a as night, gleaming forth from beneath shaggy eye- ~ brows which met above his nose. . ye The next man, who was slighter in build but no less ir graceful or quick of movement, according to the whis- pered word of the cowering boy was Salvador. “the other—the “Sefior, sefior,” palpitated the boy, other is Sefior Monreal!” Monreal .was a somewhat aristocratic-looking man of middle age, in whose dark hair and _ care- fully trimmed beard a few streaks of gray could be seen. | Domingo drew rein. “Sefiors,”’ boy. | Ere Frank could answer, Salvador espjed ae cow- ering form of Miguel Toro, pointed, and exclaimed: “There he is, Domingo!’ Sefior Monreal drew rein, producing a silk hand- kerchief with which he wiped the dust and perspira- tion from his ‘face. He surveyed Merriwell and his friends with a slight air of haughtiness, Fetes i 2s hie se By ELS ity Pi ASS te Ta = he cried, “we are in search of a runaway Have you seen him?’ we “Si, sif’ burst triumphantly from Domingo’s lips. “There he is! Come forth, you ungrateful little rascal! What do you mean by running away from your friends? Stand forth at once!” _ “Wait a moment, Domingo,” said Frank, putting on a warning hand as the man leaped to the ground and stepped forward with the evident intention of seiz- ing the young fugitive. “Before you put your r hands on. him, I want to talk with you a bit.” ad HYes, siree,” put in Josh Crane. “Before yeou put over a leetle Domingo gave Merry a glare. WEEKLY. Merry. . fs, Babe your: mudhooks onto that boy we're goin’ to chin it’ “Who are you who dares stand between the boy and his master?” he demanded. “['m Frank Merriwell from North America, at your service, Domingo,” returned Frank quietly. ‘“‘Cut out 1 the dramatics, if you please. You wil alarm no one by posing and looking fierce “Nivver a. bit av it,” the gint is after 6) Fiarns Tit get his accommodation tee he'll Terry a scrap roight away.” “Let us not have trouble, my. friends,” urged Au- gusto Leopoldina. “Let us talk this matter over ami- w cably and settle it without a clash.” “We'll talk it over,” muttered Crane; an idee in my head that there’s liable to be s) “but I’ve kin- der got doin’s.” Joe Crowfoot had sized up the pursuers of the Although he had not understood Miguel Toro’s words, the behavior of the lad, his present aspect, and the appearance of the three men gave the old redskin some Old bo y- - = a very Satisfactory idea of the situation. “Mebbe heap much fight,” he gtrunted. “Old Joe One time mebbe Rheumatism him too old to fight. fight Him no good. now he all Old he some ; used up. knock-um him out. age make-um crick in Joe’s back.” : “Ve ' rp} It's | ; “When him understand.”’ I Terry O’Hara. can foight loike a whole pack ay wildcats, Joseph. “Go on wid yez,” muttered an auold fraud ye are.” growled Joe ~ “Irish boy no understand,” him get so old as Crow foot, “Begorry, if Oi ivver live to be as auold as ye are. Oi'll be dead thot,” Terry. twinty years before returned “Possibly sefior the North American does not un- derstand,” said Domingo. “It may be that Miguel has been filling his ears with falsehoods.” RO oe - understand that this unfortunate boy has run | |.) “said away from ray in mortal terror of his te;” “Tt is that which he has told you, sefior? He lies, i A, Long years have ae am his master and his best friend. | cared for him as if he were my own son. And now). —now he runs away from me, the ungrateful wretch!” “I’m sure the boy would not have run away from : you, Domingo, if he did not believe he had good cause ; to fear you.” “T have never lifted a hand to him; but he shall be’ punished now.” . : 7 With this threat Domingo attempted to swing past Frank and seize the lad. Out shot Merry’s hand, seizing the man by the col- lar and snapping him backward. =x. “Stop!” rang Merry’s voice, clear and commanding. “You shall not punish him here!’ In amazement Domingo poured forth a sudden-tor- | rent of savage language. At the same time Salvador cried for his companion to strike down the insolent North American. Enraged, Domingo sprang panther-like at Merry. Out shot Frank’s hands, first one then the other, and both fists were planted with jarring force upon Do- mingo’s person. Merry’s right ‘caught the man. in a the ribs, while his left smashed Domingo’s head back- ward snappingly. The bull fighter staggered, but succeeded in keeping upon his feet. Salvador, snarling and palpitant, leaped from the saddle as if to join in the attack on Merry. -In a moment Josh Crane and Terry O'Hara were facing Salvador. a “Hold on, Terry!’ entreated Josh. “Don't yeou go to mixin’ up here. Jest let me look arter this crit- ter. I ruther guess | kin take keer of him, by gum!” =e “It’s all the fun ye want to have, ye greedy divyil,” palpitated Terry. “Sthand off a bit and let me show yez the Oirish stoyle ay foighting.” Salvador paused in doubt, for they were two against him, and he did not fully relish such odds, Old Joe Crowfoot let himself down from the saddle blanket carelessly in the dust of the road. “Mebbe other man him want some fun,” said the old redskin almost entreatingly. “Old Joe not much _ good to fight. Hii all used up. Him joints heap stiff. Mebbe other man he’ lick-um old. Joe mighty : quick, Mebbe he have heap much fun with old Joe.” But, in spite of the Indian’s words, Sefior Monreal | betrayed no disposition to get into the encounter. and recovers possession of the boy.” hs 4 TIP TOP: WEEKLY. in a stiff and awkward manner, and dropped his red. “Tam not here to fight,” he said in é¢xcellent Eng- — 1. “I have come to see that Domingo gets his rights | to take possession of Miguel Toro.” cre “Old Joe heap easy to lick if you want to fight,” assured the Indian. “You have much good time. You no try-um it, eh?” My friends, my friends,” cried Leopoldina, “why is it necessary to quarrel ?” But words could not check Domingo now. Raging with wrath, he advanced in a crouching attitude, step- ping on the halls of his feet and holding himself ready to leap at Merriwell’s throat. “Conte on——come on, if you’re coming at all,” in- vited Frank, : But as Domingo circled, looking for an opening, Merry decided to take the initiative. In a moment he was at the bull fighter again, and this time he did not let up in his attack until he had struck Domingo a blow that sent him down in the dust of the road. Satisfied at last that with his bare hands he was no match for this North American, the bull fighter rose, whipping forth a wicked looking knife. With a pistol “Put ordered. a snap of his hand Frank Merriwell produced and turned the muzzle on his antagonist. up that nasty little bit of steel, Domingo,” he “I should dislike very much to blow a hole , f through your worthless body, but I'll certainly have to do it if you come at me with that knife.” He was perfectly cool and calm. Indeed, he laughed a little as he spoke those words. For the first time Domingo seemed fully to realize that he had met his master. In hasty Spanish Sefior Monreal called to Domingo and bade him cease trying to inforce his claims to the. boy in such a manner. “Sefiors,” said Monreal, “you are apparently deter- mined to get yourselves into a great deal of unneces- sary trouble. I have long known Domingo, and I give you my assurance that he has every legal right g y i¢eg § “In this case, Sefior Monreal,” said Frank, “there’s a moral question involved as well as a legal one. Why — are you so interested in seeing Domingo recover pos- session of the boy? Will you answer that?” ; “Tt is unnecessary,” declared Monreal disdainfully. 3 nese “IT am a gentleman of some influence, and I give you my word that you'll find yourselyes in very much trou TIP. ‘TOP: WEEKLY; ble if you persist in interfering in this matter. Who Reaching the group, the woman saw the lad, and* ; are you who dares interfere?” tottered pantingly toward him, her hands outstretched. “T think I ¢ gave Domingo my name, ” smiled Frank. “Oh, Miguel, why did you run away ?” she asked. “These are ‘enue of mine, Joshua Crane, Terry ‘Why did you run away from Amalia?” i : TT... 1 Eh ‘ a itis ne 5 : . : ‘ i O'Hara, old Joe Crowfoot, and Sefor Augusto Leo “Oh, I didn’t run away from you, sefiora,” an- poldina. # ‘swered the boy. “It, nearly broke my heart to leave — | It seemed that Monreal started a bit at the sound yoy.” of the last name. He certainly surveyed the man from “But why did vou-do it?” | Spain with something like curiosity and interest. “T was afraid.” ~~ - ” : ‘ . ‘é . ty “Senor -Monreal,” said Leopoldina, “we have no “Of what? Of whom?” | & desire to interfere with any one’s legal rights. The “Of Domingo.” i boy has stated that he stands in the utmost terror of “You need not fear him, Miguel. He would not Pi oe Domingo. harm you. Come back with Amalia.” ‘ bs “There is no reason why he should fear Domingo. After a moment's hesitation the boy ran forward 2 7 a a) “ 7 - i . ~ mm c ‘ “ic oiven a reason, senor ’ ¢ a PAs Sa - -¢ otart) ih Has he given a reason, se and clasped his arms about the woman, tears starting tBe ‘ ‘ . . . ‘ i “He has said that he saw Domingo looking at im from his eyes. f anner that terrified him.” “yy 2 ‘3 : ih in a manner that terrified him . Yes, sefiora—yes,”’ he said. “TI will go back with Pic ag o gination—imaginatio ari othing more : ; 1 ei isiagination—“Amag india, and) ROVE: ers, you. No matter what happens, I will go back with a Sefior Leopoldina. Despite Domingo’s profession, I \4..% ee i have known:him long enopgh to be certain that he is Cet: Lory ; wig gx en Sefiots,” said Monreal, with a shrug of his shoul- ats Le one of the gentlest men alive.” Gat i us A 4 bi a ders and a wave of his hand, “you will see that itis | | ss “Jest abaout naow,” chuckled Josh Crane, “he’s a + ; ; i. cia 3 settled. The boy realizes his mistake. If he has told 7 ¢ good deal more e gentle than he.was a few seconds ago. bP nn: a i 4 i : 22 you foolish things, forget them. \Uhey were not true. j i: Frank has sorter gentled him daown. | Pe eb ese ' 4 : At best they were but the silly fancies of his timid ae T "Hara was still squared away in front of ys ¥y it Terry O'Hara was still squared away in front bdatn | if Salvador, + Cease ae : ~ a ¥ Fimid!”’ muttered Josh Crane. “He sartainly ‘pears : jie se . . . “45 . ; oe! Oh, pwhy don’t ye sail into me?” the Irish lad . < Gt ees ei i : Best AN etd to be so, and yet he’s a bull fighter! I’m willin’ to | a, ‘was saying coaxingly. “Won't ye plaze come at me i . i ie EPs Fe so “ admit that I don’t jest git onto the natteral deesposi- " ie wance? Is it possible that Oi’m going to be disap- .. + we tion of that feller. pointed again? Is it nivver a bit av fun can O1 have “Miguel,” said Frank, “do you wish to return with ’ atall, at all?’ “Ugh!” grunted old Joe Crowfoot disgustedly és 4 Bice: ‘ \ the sefiora? Do you wish to return with your ‘mas- 9 ter? ; M4 “Nothing doing!” “Oh, yes, sefior, I will do so,” was the answer. “J Through the gathering’ darkness a woman came thank you, sefior—I. thank you very much for your running swiftly. As she approached she cried out, g kindness.” “Begorry, Oi belave that does sittle it!’ muttered Terry O’Hara. and Domingo, turning his head to look round, an- swered the cry. “Tt is Amalia!’ breathed Miguel. “She also -has come.”’ ‘ ; ~ “I guess we can't carry the boy off ag’ inst his own > 1 7 va . + Rite : . / on ”? wie eee : -. “Have you found him, Domingo?” questioned ‘the’ will,” said Crane. — . woman. “Have you found our little Miguel?” Domingo retreated to the side of his horse. There “Begorry, it’s no so little he is at all, at all,’ mur- he paused to cast a fierce look at Frank, who smiled ae -mured O'Hara. “It’s not a goyant he’s built oe quietly in return. {akan but all the same he’s no baby, nivver a bit av it.” “7 will not forget the North American,” said the watek: in the stirrup, ‘Terry. TIE bull fighter, in a voice that was deep with hatred. “It may be that we shall meet again.”’ With those words he placed his foot in the stirrup and sprang to the saddle. ' peel ‘3 ° ; i449 “ Senora,’ he said, addressing the woman, “go on before with Miguel. We will follow you.” The boy turned to cry adios to the strangers who had sympathized with him, and then permitted the woman to lead him away, Salvador fell in behind ilso mounted, and the three men on horses Amalia and Miguel. Thus they. moved away, and soon their figures melted into the gathering darkness. “These ere ructions don't seem to amaount to noth- ing nohaow,” complained Josh Crane. ‘Mebbe there’d been a little fun for me if that bogtrotter Irishman hadn’t stuck his nose into it. Confaound’him! I’na ‘sore enough to wipe up the graound with him.” “Qi wish ye'd troy: it! Oi wish ye’d troy it!” tasped Terry, fanning the air with his two fists. “It’s disappointed Oi am mesilf, If ye’d loike to relave my disappointment, jist sail into me wance, Joshua.” “Heap much bluff,” up his blafket and flung it over his shoulders without a single shake to free it from the dust.: “All tall. All hot air.” He lifted his leg slowly and stiffly to insert a foot following which, with a grunt, he dragged himself up into the saddle. *\We To your horses, Josh and ‘We can't waste any more time,” said’ Frank. should be in the city now. After all, I’m more than half sorry we sur- rendered the boy.” CHAPTER VIL ONE OF |THE OLD FLOCK, In Corrales they made inquiries and were directed to the most important hotel, the Nacional. ‘The town was indeed overflowing with people, and bi he Wistined| were decorated with bunting and flags. Pe . The great crowds upon the stréets seemed overflow- ng with jolly good will. The sound of music and i TOP grunted Crowfoot, as he picked WEEKLY. Frank at first. in- thé Nacional, Arriving at was formed that it would be impossible for the hotel to accommodate him and his friends. After a little talk, however, and some special inducements in the way of was made that a suite Frank money by Merry, the discovery of three rooms had that day been vacated,) and secured it. It was arranged that Leopoldina should have one of the rooms, while the other two should be occupied by Frank and his friends. up and made themselves brought little — In their rooms they washed as presentable as possible. They had luggage save what could be easily packed upon the horses, but a glimpse of the shops and stores of Cor- rales had satisfied them that the city would. provide almost anything they desired. “By geewhilikens, I’m hongry!” didn’t have no more’n a nibble aout of that lunch ham- per to-day, and I’m empty as aour old rain barrel to hum in dry weather.” “Is it arrangements ye made at this hotel for ating as well as slapeing, Frank?” inquired O’Hara. “Yes, our accommodations at this’ hotel are paid for one day in advance.” | “Thin it’s lucky ye made the bargain before they ivver saw Josh ate. It’s a famine he will make in the house.”’ “Yaou re “There ye go ag’in!” snapped Crane. alwus a-slurrin’. I ain’t goin’ to pay no attention to yeou arter this., Yeou ain't wuth noticin’, Me O'Hara. Herearter I'll jest simply ignore : This caused Terry to whoop dees Kaughter. “Oi’ll have yez chewing the rag wid me before we turn in for the noight,” he declared it, Josh your jaw.” “Ye can’t help. Ye jist naturally loike to be after wagging The sound of music floated up to them from some part of the hotel, and this they found to be the big. open central court where an orchestra was playing to a great crowd of diners who were Sapte the hos-. . pitality of the Nacional. \ After a little delay a table was found for Frank and. his friends, cried Crane, ~“T — ~~ N ~ around ae “Dinner over,” said Merry, “I'll try to look up the lad I’ve traveled so far to see. I hope he’s in Cor- rales, for 1 want to give him a surprise. I depended on his being here at the time of the Fete la Cochimba.” Barely were they seated when Frank observed two young men who were following a waiter to a near-by table. One of these was evidently a South American, but the other was a good, clean, healthy-looking chap, who bore all the appearance of being a native of the United States, in spite of his light clothes and panama hat. Merry sprang up, his face aglow, and stepped forth quickly, putting out a hand and grasping this man’s shoulder. “Harry Rattleton!” he exclaimed. The fellow whose name he had spoken turned like a flash and looked at Frank. In another moment, re- gardless of appearances and forgetful of the diners them, he gave a shout and Alung both arms round Frank. “Oh, dream!” it must be a dutiful beam—I mean a beautiful he spluttered. “It can’t be Frank Merrivwell —here, here in Bolivia! I’ve certainly wot the gillies —er, er, that is, got the willies!” f tt was in truth Harry Rattleton, one of Frank’s most cherished friends of college days, and Merry laughed again as he noted that in his excitement Harry still twisted his language as much as ever. attles,”’ “You haven't got the willies. “It’s no dream, R in his throat. I’m here, and it*does my soul good to hear you chewing ; 3 5 ’ 5 States talk the way you used to in up good United the old days.” “T always did get the hart before the corse—I mean the cart before the horse,” laughed Rattleton. “Butt say, Frank, where did you drop from? I can’t believe it, even now. What ever could bring you here to this out-of-the-way place?” “T came to find you, Harry. I came to see you face to face once It has been a long time since you left God’s country for South America, but ‘I’ve man- more. aged to keep track of you after a fashion, even though you finally forgot to write me.’ j j confessed Rattletor: “Disgraceful neglect,” “but TOP WEEKLY. tain, he said, feeling a choking you see, Frank—you see, I’m knocking around all over this cuessed bluntry—I mean blessed country. 1 make my headquarters here in Corrales, but I’m away more than half the time. Came home for the celebration this week.” “T depended on that,’ said Frank. “I thought you | o J would surely be here.” “But you haven't really told me how you happened to be in South America. You certainly didn’t come all the way to visit me.” ‘The story is a bit too long to tell now, Harry. I did travel several hundreds of miles to see you, I have some friends here.” the same. “And I have a friend, Frank. Let me introduce I’ve told you about 4 ° . him. Darrego, this is the man more than once—this is Frank Merriwell. shake hands with Darrego Rosario.” Augusto Leopoldina rose instantly. “Darrego Rosario!” he said, stepping out as Frank shook hands with Rattleton’s companion. ‘Then you, senor, are the young man I have traveled all the way from Spain to meet. My name is Leopoldina, and [| father in re- oe have come to confer with you and your gard to most important business.”’ Rosario grasped Leopoldina’s hand. “We received word that you were coming, sefdr,” he said. 3 Rattleton and Rosario were introduced to Crane, and old Joe Crowfoot. Harry seemed sur- prised when Merry placed a hand affectionately on the Indian’s shoulder and stated that Crowfoot was one of his dearest friends. and nodded in acknowledgment of the introduction to Harry and Rosario. r “Heap much like-um look of this one,’ he muttered loud enough for Rattleton to hear; “but no like-um look of other one.”’ “Joe is “sometimes decidedly outspoken in his likes said Merry. “We'll have the waiter . 5 . ao bring up another table beside ours. and dislikes,” You must sit at my side,, Rattles. your hand!” ® 4 A table was moved up beside the one to which Frank’s party was assigned, and for the next half hour rd just ‘ Merry, . eee The old redskin grunted . Oh, it’s good to see you and grasp. ie Pe ins oon Se ain oR Ral UI alain ka ee greets > ies ae j nical inte we Rasa ae Sth NAR e da We res SPOR Neti eB E I Se ae wan ok alain age heute ese ES Ea <> , 2 2 Bee 4 4. : 4 7 a J ee 4 sl % m, x ets) + oy Rattleton and Merriwell talked with each other, al- most oblivious to their companions, practically ignor- ing the food that was placed before them. CHAPTER VIII. A DOUBLE SURPRISE. No laughed. for a time almost totally forgetful of their wonder Merriwell and Rattleton talked and companions. ‘This meeting brought back to them both a thousand memories of the dear old days at Vale. They spoke of the games, the jokes, the pranks and escapades of their college life. They spoke of the old flock, mentioning one after another, Jack Ready, Jack Diamond, Buck Badger, Hock Mason, Bruce 3rowning, Bart Hodge, and many others. Frank was able to give Harry much. information _ concerning Hodge and Browning, and Rattleton ex- pressed his sorrow on learning of the affliction which had befallen big-bodied, big-hearted, noble old Bruce. Diamond, they knew, was still living across the water. Badger was a Kansas cattle raiser, and already two little Badgers had appeared to gladden his heart and that of his charming wifey once Winnie Lee. Mason had last been heard from as a prosperous and_ pro- gressive young business man in the Southern States. Jack Ready, the light-hearted, the gay and eccentric jester, had met with sad misfortune and was still re- ceiving treatment in a sanatorium for the mildly in- sane. “And you, Harry,” asked Frank—‘how are you making it down here in this country?” “Oh, I’m getting on,” was the laughing answer. “l’m coming ali right, Merry. The needful is_pil- ing up.” es Do you,intend to spend the rest of your life in South Chen it’s likely some day you'll be a rich man. America?” “Nay, nay, old chap. I shall go back to the good old U. S. A. as soon as possible when I’ve paid my imile—I mean made my pile.” “Where do you live when you’re in this city?” ‘Right here in this hotel. I have a suite of ‘rooms, y TIP. fOP WEEKEY. 17 You must all come up to my rooms when dinner is over.” “Is was rather odd that we should come straight here to this hotel,” said Merry. “The Nacional is the best in Corrales. I presume that’s how you came to select it.” The others ate, but, in spite of themselves, Frank and Harry were so delighted that they had quite lost their appetites. They nibbled a bit at the food, but it was impossible for them to eat and talk as they wished, and finally, discovering that their companions had quite finished and were sipping coffee, they laugh- ingly decided that food was not what they wanted. The meal over, they all followed Rattleton to his rooms, which proved to be a most comfortable and airy little smite, furnished to suit the taste of the young man from the far North. There were big easy-chairs, rugs upon the floor, bookcases filled with choice books, and on the walls many pictures, not a few of which Harry had possessed at college. In the place of honor was a framed and cherished photograph of Frank Merriwell. Frank’s face could also be seen in several - pictures of different Yale teams. “Just distribute yourselves around comfortably, fel- invited Rattleton, with lows,” a genial wave of his hand. Any one who wants to smoke will find cigars Here they are. and cigarettes. 1 Help yourselves.” “Do you smoke, Rattles?’ asked Merry. “Frank, an honest confession is soul for the good— I mean good for the soul. I own up that I have ac- quired that pernacious habit. You see, everybody smokes down here, and I’m no longer in training for athletics. I don’t suppose you've gallen from face— er, er, fallen from grace?” “Not yet,” smiled Merry. “I think it’s too late. While I really enjoy seeing others smoke, I have no~ desire to smoke myself. , And I still:keep in training, © It wouldn't do for me to set a bad example for the boys by smoking, you know. .t have to at my school. even if I felt inclined, which, thank fortune, I do not.” Observing that Crowfoot had seated himself cross- legged upon the floor instead of taking a chair, Rattle- ton, made haste to assure the old redskin that there ‘ were plenty of comfortable seats. { Sof 18 : TTR? PoP heer “Here's my big Morris chair, Mr. Crowfoot,’ he laughed. Hy friend in the world, ete [ possess is yours.” “Ugh! much, “Have that.. As the friend of my dearest Heap good talk,’ grunted Joe. “You chin all same words sound gee ‘ No like chair.” “T once had the satisfaction of receiving, Crowfoot as a guest at my home in Bloomfield,” said Merriwell. “He was a very sick man when we carried him into the house and put him to bed, but he wasn’t so sick EM. : K that he couldn’t protest against lying in a real bed. We finally had to spread blankets on the floor for him.” “Old Joe near croak that time,” said Crowfoot. “Old Joe think him goose is cooked. Strong Heart He think pretty paleface med- i dt Joe. He HP never forget.” oy soon he shuffle off. bring icine man; paleface medicine man cure olc Although these words were spoken simply and quietly without the least apparent show of feeling, there was something in,them which told of the tre- Seage RGE ae Oe mendous gratitude hidden away in the old redskin’s SASS SS vat heart. “Well, if you prefer the floor to a chair,’ said Rat- tleton, “‘you’re welcome to use it. Have a cigar.” weeds, ‘He offered ‘but Crowfoot declined. box of prime sweet-smelling “No good,” he declared. No like him. “Old Joe try-um cigar some time. He smoke bay log pipe. With which he produced his Pipe better. rank black pipe and _ began plugging the bowl full of tobacco with a rather dirty thumb. Harry struck a match and held it-for the Indian. “You no bother so much,” _ most peevishly. him no get helpless yet. “match.” y . This caused f “Old Joe know him heap old, but He can light-um his own Rattleton to laugh heartily, “Your red friend is certainly an ine lependent \per- gon, Merry, he observed 1 ina low tone to Frank. “Did. you bring him with you to South America?” Briefly Frank explained’ in what a surprising mah- ler he had. met Shangowah in that far away land. objected Crowfoot al-. Darrego Rosario smoked cigarettes and chatted WEEKLY. with Leopoldina, sometimes turning ,for a Augusto few pleasant words with O’Hara and Crane. “I ruther like that feller, Terry,” whispered Josh. “He seems to be a purty decent sort.” ] “It’s all roight Oi take him to be,’”’ nodded the Irish youth. “If he wasn’t all roight, he’d nivver be fri’ndly wid wan of Frank Merriwell’s fri’nds.”’ ‘Rattles,’ said Frank, “do you know a man by the name of Monreal?” Harry shook his head. “Don’t think [ ever heard of him. Who ts he?” Then Merry related the story of their meeting with Miguel Toro, When he had finished that story Rat- tleton said: “Oh, yes, I’ve heard of this bull fighter, Domingo. He’s advertised to appear in the bull ring to-morrow, and the boy, Toro, is also advertised. What do you say, my friends, if we all take in the’ bull fight to- gether?” “T’m not greatly struck on bull fights,” “I once witnessed the real thing in Spain. It’s a re- pulsive exhibition. However, as I’m curious about that boy, I’m eager to watch a bit of the performance to-morrow.” “T ain't never seen no bull fights,” confessed Crane; “but I’ve read and I never. thought it All the same, if you fellers is goin’ to take it in, I guess mebbe abaout them, would be a rippin’ lot of. fun to watch one. l'll traipse along with ye.” “ll make arrangements for seats,” promised Rat- tleton. “I. think [ have pull enough to get themj{in the most favorable position close down to the arena; where wwe can see everything that ‘takes place.” “What toime does this foight come off?’ inquired O'Hara. “It begins at three I doubt if It’s some- in the afternoon. we'll care to stay through the® whole of it. thing of an innovation in Corrales, which, however, is in many ways a real Spanish city, and I presume we'll — comé nearer seeing the real thing to-morrow than we could if we attended such a performance anywhere else. in this country.” \ There came a knock upon the door, turned to learn who was there. said Frank. and “Harty 4. )/ A man, standing out-— pendant. cate s , SC re i Pe SE a side, begged Rattleton’s pardon, and stated that he had taken the liberty to come directly to those rooms in hopes of finding his son, whom he wished to speak with at once on an important matter. “Come in, Sefor Rosario,” invited Rattles, flinging the door wide. “You're always welcome here?” The man entered the room and’ paused, an expres- sion of surprise and constemnation appearing on his face as he’ beheld the gathering of visitors. “Pardon me,” he breathed; “TI did not know, Sefior Rattleton—I was not aware “Great geewhiliken jumpin’ jingoes!’’ shouted Tosh D J J Ss o Crarfé. know abaout that!” “It’s Seenyor Monreal! Naow what do yeou Darrego Rosario had risen and stepped forward to meet the newcomer. “You wish to see me, my father?” he asked. “Close the door, Harry—close the door!” whis- pered Frank, stepping quickly behind the man who had just entered. Rattleton obeyed, but turned immediately to ask in a low tone: “What's the matter, Frank? This cannot be Sejior Monreal, the man you spoke of. This is Sefior Rofino Rosario, the father of Darrego.” “He is the man who, in company with the bull fight- ers, Domingo and Salvador, appeared in pursuit of Miguel Toro and gave his name as Sefior Monreal,” asserted Frank quietly. In the meantime, young Rosario’s father was vainly seeking to recover his composure. _He had met with a surprise which, for the time being, quite upset him. Augusto Leopoldina hastened to step forward. “Sefior Rosario,” he said, “this is most fortunate. Iam the agent from Spain whom you were expecting. I gave you notice that I would arrive, but I could not state precisely on what date I would be able to reach Corrales. I am here, and I have met your son, the heir. ’ Rofino Rosario bowed low, and gave Leopoldinaj his | hand. 4 “We have been looking for you, sefior,” he stated. of f 5 H “Tt is true, however, that we did not expect you to arrive so soon,” TEP pear , tery. _jittle tinte to frame an answer. WEEKLY Joshua Crane had Terry O'Hara by the shoulder. ‘““What’s this ere business mean?’ he was splutter: ing. “If this ere gent’s name is Rosario, why in thut- teration did he call hisself Seenyor Monreal?” “It’s a bit Perhaps the gint will ixplain.” “Ask me! ask me!” muttered Terry. puzzled Oi am mesilf. Old Joe Crowfoot was the only one in the room who had shown no signs of surprise. Still seated cross- legged up6dn the floor, the Indian pulled at his pipe and poured forth great whiffs of rank smoke which rose in a cloud above his head. But, although he had not moved, there was something in his quick, keen, black eyes which indicated that he had not missed a single feature of the scene. “So this is your father, Sefior Darrego?” said Mer- ry. “Will you be good enough to introduce us? I shall esteem it a privilege to meet Senor Rosario in a proper and conventional manner.” The young man lost no time in complying with this request, and his father bowed rather stiffly and coolly, showing hesitation about accepting Frank’s proffered hand, although he finally decided to do so. “Sefior Rosario,” said Merry, “it seems to me that you can relieve our minds by explaining a little mys- By chance we met you to-day as we were draw- ing near Corrales. You then gave us an entirely dif- ferent name from Rosario.” The man flushed and stroked his beard, taking a Merry waited quietly, but it seemed to Rosario that the young man’s eyes were reading the secret thoughts of his heart. “I’m sure there must’ be some mistake,’ said Dar- rego. “It cannot be that my father is the man you met under the name of Monreal, Sefor Merriwell.” “He is quite right, my son,” confessed the elder man. “For reasons-of a private nature I am known to cer- ° tain. persons as Sefior Monreal. I scarcely think the gentleman will wish to probe my private affairs.’ “No, indeed,” smiled Frank. “If you do not wish ”? to explain 7 ; ’ “Is it not explanation sufficient when I say that for private reasons I am known to some persons as Senor Monreal? { think it should be.” é ec as soon’s he kin, FM Re re ert eagle ete tae TIP “The gall explanation, is he, derned critter ain't deesposed to make no Terry?” whispered Crane, “It’s me belafe, Joshua, that he’d be after tangling ‘ himsilf a bit if he troied it.” “I kinder took to the youngster,” said Crane; “but his old man ‘pears to me sorter crooked.” “Without wishing'to pry into private matters,” said learn more that would like, Sefior Rosario, the Miguel you can provide some information.” Merry, “I concerning boy, Toro. It may be *T know little of that “At one time Domingo was in my employ, boy, senor,’ was the answer. and for the best of reasons I have cause to feel grateful to him. Ina way, he is a wandering, incompetent man: and, not wishing to see him come to want, I have sometimes provided him with money.” | : “You have never told me that you were known by a name other than your own, my father,” .said Dar- rego wonderingly. ; a / ee / “No, my son,” it was not: necessary. It was. to speak with you concerning Leopoldina’s mission that I came to find you. As the sefior has artived, it will be unnecessary for us to speak privately. If he wishes, we may hold a consultation with him at once.” “It would give me the utmost pleasure, Sefior Ro- 99 sario,” declared the man from Spain. “Then I trust you will do me the honor to accom- pany us to my home, sefior.”’ “T will gladly do so.” _ With a smile, Rofino Rosario turned and bowed to” the others. “Again I beg pardon for this intrusion,” he. said. “Tf you will permit us, we will take our leave.” my guess he'll be purty much relieved to git aout of " muttered Josh Crane. With almost exaggerated politeness, Rofino Rosario bowed himself backward to the door, which, at a nod from Frank, Rattleton opened, “Come round and see us ‘to-morrow, Darrego,”/in- vited Harry. i us will promised Darrego “Don't forget to secure TOP Well, he’s proved to my satisfaction that he can take care think mebbe he snooze some.’ WEEKLY, CHAPTER IX. SHADOWING THE SCOUNDRELS. *“Naow aout of Frank ?”’ fired mixed up mess.”’ what do yeou make business, cried Josh Crane. “It sartainly is’ an all- Merry nodded slowly. “I’m compelled to acknowledge that I “Still, don't quite tinderstand it,” he answered. presume Rofino Rosario had a right to maintain the attitude he as- concern of ours whether Monreal.” sumed. In a way, it’s no he calls -himself Rosario or “He nivver told his own son about it,’ muttered O'Hara. ‘“'Oi wonder pwhy ?” | “It's a gall derned rapscallion he is, that’s my opinion,”’ snapped Crane. “But I assure you,” said Rattleton earnestly, “that Darrego is the winest fellow in the furld—I mean the finest: fellow in the world. I’ve known time, and I’ve always found him bare as a suick—er, / square as a brick.” / “He Merry. dina, Rofino Rosario was unforgiving and revengeful has a prepossessing appearance,” agreed in his hatred for José del Norte.” “I haven’t heard that story, Frank,” reminded Rat- tleton. Merry repeated the bare outlines of Leopoldina’s story, which gave Harry a better understanding of the situation. Tt “Ais Rattleton. indeed unusual and remarkable,” nodded I’m glad for the boy. He deserves it, although. of himself and make his way in the world. some business dealings with him, and and up to date,”’ For a time they talked, until the topic became prac- tically exhausted, and finally Rattleton asked them if they. cared to go and take a look at -Corrales. y s Frank, Josh and Terry were willing enough, but } Crowfoot objected. ° “Old Joe no care to walk much,” he grunted. get tired. One time legs no get tired ever. him for some. “According to the story of Augusto Leéopol-. “So Darrego is the heir to a big estate. I've had he’s energetic. Pegs! 67 Old Joe x ig ny , ft, 4 . A * & de 1 Ae i : Ro. < TIP “All right, Crowfoot,” laughed Merry, “I'll go down with you to our rooms, and you can spread _ yourself all over the floor.” ‘ Having left Joe to “snooze,” they strolled forth upon the main street of the city, which was brightly : lighted and thronged with gay crowds. From every hand came the sound of music and laughter. There was, much throwing of confetti on the street and from the overhanging balconies. From these balconies _ many a dark-eyed sefiorita looked down and laughed at them as she showered them with a bright snow- ie: storm of varicolored bits of paper. 1% _ “Gee whiz!” chuckled Crane. “There’s sartainly _ some pretty gals in this old taown. I ruther like the looks of ‘em.’ -“Hould on—hould on, Joshua!” objected ‘Terry. “Tt’s married ye are. bhoy.” e “Waal, if I should forgit it for a minute yeou’d Don’t be after forgetting it, me be consarned sartain to take pains to remind mie abaout it. Even if a man’s married he kin look at purty gals sometimes, can’t he? That’s human nater, and ] own up that I ain’t no more’n human.” A big gaudily‘uniformed band was playing in the crowded plaza. For a time they were entertained by "was inclined to follow Crowfoot’s example and | “snooze some.” : They turned to retrace their gteps to the hotel, Not far had they proceeded when Merry suddenly gave a low hiss and made a gesture for his com- - panions to halt. | | “Look,” he whispered—“look at. that pair yonder! ef See them?” Two small, dark men were moving hastily along the street. _ “Great flappin’ flaounders!” gasped Crane. “Them’s the two critters that tried to kill Mr. Leopendodeena"’’ “It’s roight ye are,” agreed O'Hara. “Thim’s the road.” re eR ih TOP WEEKLY. through the crowd. some haste, but as long as they remained upon the thickly thronged streets Frank had no trouble in fol- lowing them without special danger of being ob- served. and then another, and Merry’s task became more and more difficult. and in time he had pursued the two rascals to the very outskirts of the town. in keeping track of him. made were enough to baffle them, and he found that he aloné was tracking Pietro and Recedo. in which gleamed a light. that tent, one of them whistled several times in a soft and significant manner, which Merriwell took to be a signal. and for a moment Domingo ‘was seen standing there in the light. _ and, stepped out in response to the call of the signal whistle, which was made again, the music, but at last Frank admitted that he himself - Pietro and Recedo, Frank Merriwell lay flat upon the fl ground close behind some bushes, disappointedly won- dering how he could approach sufficiently near to over- hear the low-spoken words of the three. To his great satisfaction, the trio moved still further away from. | the tent and paused within ten feet of those bushes. stood every word. rating the little men because of their failure in some undertaking. forced his horse over the precipice.”’ death,” put in Recedo. him somehow,” snarled Recedo. “We did our work well. Why was it that they appeared to spoil it?! He was off at once, shadowing Pietro and Recedo bo) The men were moving with > Finally, however, the men darted round one corner Nevertheless he was not to be foiled, His friends, however, were not equally successful The many quick turns he ] Not far from the outskirts of the town stood a tent As the two men approached In response to that signal the flap of the tent opened, Then he let the flap drop behind him At a distance from the spot where Domingo met They were speaking in Spanish, but Merry under- @ — He heard Domingo angrily be- “We did our best,” declared Pietro warmly. “We “And saw him go. falling to seemingly certain - f ‘ “Flow he escaped is a marvel,” declared Pietro. “It was the infernal North Americans who saved TIP TOP “Bah!l’ have received money you did not earn. rasped the bull fighter. “You bungled. You Have you come here for more?” “You promised oe “When the work was done, I said you should have more,” “Why is it that you should wish the man slain?” questionéd Recedo. “Tt’s nothing to you. It is bad that he has reached Corrales—bad, bad. It is now useless to bother fur- ther with him. Only one thing is left to be done. The boy must be put away. I need him to-morrow. I need him in the bull fight. Come to me here to- morrow night, and I will have work for you. If you do not bungle it you shall be well paid.” “We will come,” they promised. “To-morrow night, as soon as darkness falls, I will look for you,” “We will,come,” they repeated. Then Domingo dismissed them, and Merry, lying flat behind the bushes,. saw them turn back toward the city, while the bull fighter slowly returned to his tent. ® “Well,” practically certain that Miguel whispered’ Frank, finally sitting up, ‘‘it is not be In the some method of interfering Toro will harmed until after the bull fight to-morrow. meantime, I must find to save him from those wretches who mean to put him out of the way.” CHAPTER X. THE Bits fae 1G we dhugusto Leopoldina did not return to the Hotel Nacional until ten the following day. He reappeared in high spirits, and announced that his business was settled in a most satisfactory manner, Darrego Ro- sario would return to Spain to claim his inheritance. - “Then, “vou are satisfied beyond the shadow of a doubt that the girl, - Carlotta del Norte, is dead?” , Sefior Leopoldina,” said Frank, “Indeed she must be, Sefor Metriwell, There is no reason to believe otherwise.” ' leave word for him. WEEKLY. “Tf she is living—what then?” “Tf she were living, the estate would be hers.” “And Darrego Rosario would get nothing?” “Nothing, sefior, But why do you speak of such a thing? There can be no question about the girl’s death.” “T presume there is not,’ nodded Frank. In the midhours of the day Corrales becdme very quiet, despite the fact that it was filled with many strangers who had come to attend the fete. Frank had talked with his friends concerning Miguel Toro, and he likewise held a consultation with Leopoldina. A plan to secure legal protection for the but it was agreed that no move / the bull fight. boy was discussed, should be made until after Rat- tleton, had secured the seats he desired, and the party, As the afternoon advanced, Corrales awoke. waiting for the coming of Darrego Rosario, grew im- patient as the hour of three struck and the young man was still absent, “If we’re goin’ to see that there bull fight, we'd better be abaout it,” said Josh Crane. ‘“Mebbe Dar- rego’s old man won’t let him come.” Pu decided Rattleton. We'll get a move on.” “We'll not wait longer,” the streets of Corrales But when at last they ar- To their wonderment, seemed almost deserted. rived at the open-air rena outside the city, and, havy- ing obtained admission, beheld the tremendous throng of people which packed the seats, they understood why so few were to be seen in town. The bull fight was in full progress, and already the first bull, goaded to madness by his tormenters, had gored and slain two horses ridden by the fighters. Sev- eral gaily-dressed matadors were on foot in the arena, but the most of thetn chose to keep at a safe dis- tance from the bull, which a number of horsemen were still tormenting into increased fury. _ That the crowd thoroug ghly enjoyed the spectacle Ey ‘was betokened by their shouts of applause when any | especially daring rider swooped beneath the bull’s very nose and sent a ribbon- decorated dart into the ani-— mal’s bleeding neck, * DEE POF a ee ort . . ss _ is fain’t human nater!’’ muttered Josh Crane, whose face was pale and who looked ill. “Why, jest : look at all.these female wimmin a-clappin’ their hands 1 ‘i kill! one of the funniest comedies ever a-laffin’ fit to Yeou’d . think 4 a-watchin’ 4 and they was imag- ined,”’ The seats secured by Rattleton were in the front iy. tow. Barely were Frank and his friends settled into their 4 places when the tremendous crowd gave a sudden great cheer, welcoming the appearance of a. slender, - pale-faced Jad who ran lightly out into the arena, with a long red cape or robe fluttering from his shou Iders to his heels. “That’s the Jest as cool as a cowcumber on ice.” “By gum, there’s Mig!” cried Crane. very feller that was so almighty scat last night. He’s The boy seemed to ignore the infuriated bull, look at him! _ he turned to bow in all directions to the applauding people. Meanwhile one of the horsemen was luring the bull at full speed directly toward the seemingly unconscious lad. Suddenly the horseman swerved to one side, and Miguel Toro, on foot, ran lightly forward into the _ path of the bull, whirling the: dloak from his shoul- ders and giving it a flaunt beneath the animal’s very _ nose. With a roar, the bull put down its head and charged. “Holy smoke!” shouted Crane. “Look a’ -He’s ketched sure!” - But, laughing lightly, the boy skipped asidé at the ast moment, .so that one of the bull’s horns almost seemed to graze him as the animal sprang past. a He bull turned quickly to pursue Miguel. Again and again the lad snapped the cloak across the crea- ture’s eyes and avoided its charges. This he con- Som of the dni men on foot Stihbd the bull little distance. The horsemen drew aside and é Fi , | ° . . - i Adil the boy made a signal, and, as if in an- - signal, a gaily dressed man sauntered that't:, n FaPE TEE aoe pee LEE ae aes. Pec pg eis ee Pat pe mec ap + “4 i? ; aos 4 ; : ee > WEEKLY. 3 forth into the arena, bearing in his hand a long, slen- der, glittering sword. Again the mighty crowd rose and _ roared. “Domingo! Domingo!” they shouted. “Bravo, Domingo!” It was the famous bull fighter, whose appearance announced to the expectant crowd that the death of the bull was soon to take place. » Proudly Domingo bowed in answer to the plaudits. He continued to bow, as he slowly walked down the» arena, like a gentleman strolling along the streets of a peaceful city. In this manner he approached the spot where Miguel was still taunting and baffling the bull. 3 “We'll get said Rattleton. a chance to see the finish at close range,” eer They’re going to kill the bull right here in front of us.” “T kinder guess I’d better go aout and git some fresh air,’ muttered Josh Crane. “I ain't feelin’ fust rate, I’m sorter upsot.” Miguel continued to hold the attention of the bull while Domingo drew near. ‘The horsemen likewise closed in a little, as did some of those on foot. Suddenly the boy’s eyes discovered Frank and his | companions. For a single moment Miguel’s atten- tion wavered. In that moment the bull whirled and charged like lightning. Miguel attempted to spring aside, again snapping the cloak across the beast’s eyes. He made a miscal-_ culation, and one! end of the cloak caught upon one of the creature's horns, tearing it from the lad’s hands. . A shrill shriek rose from the watchers, for the bull had caught the lad and tossed him high in the air. One of the creature’s horns had caught in Miguel’s — sash. It tore loose as the boy was flung aloft, Down to, the ground fell the lad with a sickening ¥ thud, and lay there stunned, while the snorting, bel- lowing bull shook its head in an effort to cast loose the blinding cloak, Only one of the’ animal's eyes” was obscured. BS “Domingo! Domingo! !" shouted men and ane “The stroke! the stroke!” s ‘But, to Ee ‘amazement os ev reryone, Doming on every side. TIP, thos denly placed the point of his sword on the ground, leaned heavily upon it, and snapped the blade short off within a foot of the hilt, There were some who fancied this act unintentional ; there were others who believed the man who was to slay the bull had thus disarmed himself with delibera- tion, Frank Merriwell was one of the latter. He saw the bull fighters scattering, as the animal whirled round and round, shaking its head and causing the red cloak to snap and crack in the air. Even Domingo“turned and ran, at the same time calling for some one to pro- vide him with another sword. Frank did not wait. Before his friends could real- ize his purpose, he “vas over the first barrier into the narrow place provided for the protection of the bull fighters when forced to seek shelter from the hot charges of the beast. His hands seized the top of the inner barrier, and, with a mighty leap, he swung him- self over into the arena. Twelve feet away, Domingo had half paused to look back. As Frank Merriwell rushed forward, he shot out his right fist and planted it beneath Domingo’s ear, felling the cowardly wretch to the ground as he might have fallen beneath the blow of a sledgehammer. Merry did not even seem to check his speed in the slightest as he did this. Straight toward the bull and the prostrate boy he raced. The bull seemed to see the lad lying there. With lowered head it swooped at Miguel,’ but the cloak still clung fast, and just in time Frank seized and dragged ‘ the helpless lad aside. When they beheld this fearless act of the young’ (American, the immense crowd rose and _ cheered wildly, | Lifting Miguel as if he weighed no more than a baby, Frank Merriwell retreated swiftly, keeping watch of the bull. The animal started to follow up, : but paused to paw the ground ‘and shake its head, roaring all the while. It was well for Miguel and “Merry that the beast was thus annoyed, for the time _ being, by the cloak. of Suddenly the cloak was shaken free and fell to the \ WEEKLY. ground. The bull started at once in pursuit of the rescuer, who was now running at full speed, with Miguel Toro lying limp across his shoulder. : “Hit it up, Frank!” shrieked Josh Crane. “The ‘tarnal critter is arter ye!” Reaching the barrier, Merriwell pitched the boy headlong over, and followed an instant Tater with an amazing sprint. : The bull crashed head foremost against that barrier, missing Frank’s feet by inches. | The uproar of the crowd was deafening. The im- mense audience shrieked and screamed its delight over the spectacle. “Bravo!” they cried again and again. , “Bravo! bravo!” But suddenly there rose a sound so shrill, so wild and weird that it was heard above all that shouting, and caused the multitude to fall silent in amazement. It came from the lips of an old Indian, who had risen to his feet and was pealing forth the warwhoop of his tribe. In ‘this manner old Joe Crowfoot expressel his joy- ous admiration and approval of the feat: he had seen perforrned by Strong Heart, the white man who called him friend. CHAPTER XI. \ THE MYSTERY SOLVED, Again lifting the unconscious lad, Merry bore him outside the confines of the arena, where he hailed a carriage, into which Miguel Toro was qaiickly placed. “To the Hotel Naciorfal as fast as you can drive!” cried Merry, as he sprang in beside the lad. Frank's frfends came rushing after him, and he called to them that they would find him at the hotel, and then was whirled away. The hotel reached, Frank again lifted the boy, who was now slowly recovering consciousness, and, calling for a doctor to be summoned at once, ascended the > s ' ¥ fs ‘ stairs to the suite of rooms he had secured. It chanced that there was a doctor in the house at the time, and he arrived at these rooms not a full fe é minute behind Merry. | - \ car See There’s the patient, doctor, on my bed,” said Frank, “T don’t who was soaking some towels in cold’ water. know how badly he’s hurt. He was tossed by the bull in the arena.’ The doctor advanced to the bed, and looked down | at Miguel Toro, whose eyes were now open and whose a, |. lips moved as he sought to whisper some words. Sending over the bed, the physician tore open the col- lar of the boy’s shirt. A moment later he turned to | Frank Merriwell, a strange expression on his face. If you will be good enough to call, there’s a house nurse iy: “Senor,” he said, “this is not a boy: it’s a girl! 4 ) g WORRIES: + who will assist me.” \J For a single moment Frank stared at the doctor, | and then he turned to the door, outside which a num- ber of servants had gathered. ‘The summons for the house nurse was sent at once. Then came Merry’s friends, panting, to the door, | to be met by Frank, who checked them. Merry. “The. doctor has just informed me_ that ‘Miguel Toro is a girl.” . “Great geewhiliken jumpin’ jingoes!” spluttered ~ Josh Crane. “Yeou don’t say! It can’t be possible! Say, Frank, what be yeou tryin’ to do, string us?” ri 4 “This would be a poor time for joking,” said Merry. a brought Miguel here,. determined that Domingo Now I'd like / ae e . . . to have a few words face to face with Domingo him- should be baffled in his evil purpose. _ self. I'd also be pleased to interview Senor Rofino Rosario.” “My father has left the city, Sefior Merriwell,” said a voice, as Darrego Rosario made his appearance, “but ta I’m here. Where is Sefior Leopoldina?” The man from Spain had arrived, and young Ro- : & axe - ‘ ; ‘sario requested the privilege of a™“private talk with him. Darrego was pale and somewhat agitated. “There are three rooms in this suite,” said Frank. “You may have one of them, gentlemen.” With a sudden impulse Darrego turned to Merri- “JT wish you both to come,” he said. “I wish you a O hear what I have to say.” Ae “Perhaps we'd better keep out of that room,” said Dra coe ato eee dso fs Np apart ah a mo os ‘ahd i ae OR a aE ee me mee yt WEEKLY. One minute later the four men were alone in one of the rooms, and Darrego, hesitating and stammer- ing, hig eyes downcast, his appearance abashed and ashamed, slowly found words to express himself. “My friends,” he said, “it is with the greatest sor- row. and shame that | am compelled to tell you what ‘has this day come to my knowledge. I did not join you to witness the bull fight, for the reason that I was closeted with my father, seeking to persuade him to do justice to one who has been grievously and bit- terly wronged. Not many hours ago, sefiors, Do- mingo, the bull fighter, came to me with a strange tale and threat. He told me that Miguel Toro was nota boy, although he \had worn masculine clothes for years. Domingo then made a statement that filled me ' with the utmost incredulity. ‘ ~ “He declared that the one who has been known as Miguel Toro was none other than the abducted daughter of José del Norte, Carlotta, stolen years ago by my own father in revenge. I could not believe it. I came near throttling the man, but something held me in chegk. I listened. -Domingo swore that for years my father had paid him regularly each year a Car- lotta has been cared for by Domingo’s wife and reared sum of money to take care of the stolen child. as a boy.” “Gunder and thuns—I mean thunder and guns!” exploded Harry Rattleton. ‘Some days ago,’ Darrego went on, “my father in- formed Domingo that Senor Leopoldina was on his. way from Spain, coming here for the purpose of meet- ing me and satisfying himself beyond doubt that I was the sony of Rofino Rosario, and, with Carlotta del Norte supposed to be dead, the legal heir to the estate in Spain. Domingo, fancying the "end of his regular yearly revenue was approaching, foolishly engaged two ruffians to destroy Sefior Leopoldina, thinking in that manner to maintain his hold upon my father. The plot failed. Seftor Leopoldina arrived in Cor- rales. Someone—I will not say who—seems-to have suggested to Domingo that he would be well paid to get rid of the rightful heir to the estate.” ph With his head bowed, young Rosario stumbied over these words, choking and faltering. The baie | i ere abs aot th j ; . : fi ible wrong.” iP TOP pitied him, for they knew it was his father who had tempted Domingo, the bull fighter, to put away the Not one of at this, and the young man continued: real heir. them, however, ventured to hint “Domingo threatened me. He told me-that I was not the true heir. He threatened to expose me unless I induced my father to pay an immiense sum. 1 know not how I repressed my wrath. I presume I was able to do this because of the fact that I was shocked and had promising to meet him after horrified by what | heard. Dazed, I permitted Domingo to depart, the bull fight.and give him my answer. father, and we had a “Then, sehors, | sought my terrible scene. It’s ended now; all is over between us. My father has left Corrales. I hope you'll not ask me whither he has gone. 1 bade him go. . begged him to go. Sefiors, I hope you can have it in your hearts to think generously of my father, who hated José del It’ was this undying hatred to abduct Del Norte’s Norte most intensely. which led Rofino Rosario daughter. “Doubtless my father believed, himself justified substituting me in the place of the legal heir to that estate in the mother country. But now that I know the truth, nothing on earth could induce me to accept the riches which rightfully belong to the unfortunate injured girl. | del Norte, the rightful “Sefior Leopoldina, Carlotte heiress, is in the adjoining room., | will engage my- self to supply the proofs you may require. I will com- pel my father to make a sworn deposition of the truth. -I am sure he must still have in his possession some personal trinket or belonging found upon the child when it was stolen, which will be of material as- This is all I-can do to right the ter- ‘ sistance to you The young man’s s ey es were a trifle misty, and there was joy in the eyes of Harry Rattleton, as he seized ‘Darrego Rosario’s hand and gripped it warmly. *Darrego,’’ he said, ‘I always knew you were a can to the more—I mean a man to the core.” { 99 “He has proved it, Rattleton,” said Frank, with a 7 smile. “Datrego, do me the hon or to take my vad enn n proud to know stich a PORE Ores, & as you.’ WEEKLY. -a very well-built story. Throwing off his bewildered amazement as best he could, Leopoldina likewise shook the young man’s hand, Then came a tap upon the door, and the doctor was there. “Sefior Merriwell,” said the doctor, “the young lady has been told how you saved her life, and she begs a word with you: You may come in.” “Ts she seriously hurt?’ asked Frank. and I am in- Enter.” The nurse had placed the girl in Frank’s bed, from “T have found no. broken bones, senor, clined to believe that his will recover quickly, the pillow of which her dark eyes were turned ad- miringly, almost lovingly, upon Merriwell as he ap- proached. “Senor,” “senor, | owe you my she whispered softly, life. It was you—you, dear sefior—who believed in me and protected me when first we met, only yesterday. Last night I prayed to Heaven for you. I shall pray for you always, every day, as long as I live.” / She clasped his hand and pressed it to her lips, and although he smiled, Frank’s tongue was for once, chained, THE END. In the story of ‘next week there are so many good — things it is hard to pick one that is most worthy of special mention; the more so since the exciting events | are like so many links in a chain, one holding fast to _ another. That, you will see, is one way of Saying it’s And the characters—the prin- cipal ones; Still, you may award the cake to a certain astonishing feat equally in accomplishing the wonderful results. performed by Frank while holding to a rope that dan- : gles from a dizzy rock-bound height. ; of dest that calls” for the best brand of Merriwell courage. The tale in which it is all told bears the title, “Frank Merriwell in Diamond Land; or, The Vanish- ‘si ing Girl of Vista Grande.” Quite a lot of title, you if may say; the story, which you will find entertaining. from the opening to the end. The issue of Trp Top it will ap pear in is No. 725. smiling up at him— | |. those you like best—they seém to share | It is the sort yet not a bit too much for the bigness of _ TERMS ° TO TIP TOP WEEKLY | MAIL SUBSCRIBERS. (Postage Free.) Single Copies or Back Numbers, 5c. Each. 3 months ....-..-------++2-0---% 65e. OWA PORE in ond Tie sew enaa de. 82.50 MAMOUUDG Coie 6s nies. csswacve ss 85e, 2 copies one year.............. 4.00 6 months -..--.---++---0---- es $1.25 | 1 copy two years.....7........ 4.00 'Z ‘ How to Send Money—By post-office or express money order, registered letter, bank check or draft, at our risk. At your own risk if sent by currency, coin, or postage stamps in ordinary letter. , : Receipts—Receipt of your remittance is acknowledged by proper _ change of numberon your label. If not correct you have not been properly } credited, and should let us know at once, STREET & SMITH, Publishers, ~ Ormonn G. Smita, ; t Proprietors. 79-89 Seventh Avenue, New York City. _ Georce C. Smitn, § — maa hpheeaiaeetnsienotilnad NS YOUR LETTERS TO “TIP TOP.” We get a big lot of letters from*you every week, and we / wm Sept ee Ba should like to print them just as fast as they come in, for they Mhalce mighty good reading. But with the Merriwell story, which takes up so much of the 4 space of “Tip Top’—for this you must have in full+and the 9 ' shorter tales and sketches, there is not a great deal of room left \ for your interesting letters. Still, } Remember, your editor is always glad to hear from you about we want you, one and all, to write to us. Bp yourself and your favorite weekly. Your letters will be printed—just as many of them as we can r squeeze into each number, without cutting down the other things a you like to read. , So don’t feel hurt if what you write to us does not appear for a while. Prof. Fourmen is always ready to help you, his chums, with _ advice about exercise, your physical condition, or anything relat- ing to athletics. He would like you to write to him whenever : you are in doubt or difficulty, and need a friendly tip. / \ DOG CLIMBS MONT BLANC. A dog living at Les Praz, near Chamonix, in the summer of F 1908 | distinguished himself by climbing Mont Blanc. His mas- . ter, a workman, was employed on repairs to the observatory. on . __ the summit. One morning, after having been seen by his owner’s Fe wife at eight o'clock, the disappeared.. He must have rapidly tracked his master by scent, for he arrived at the summit at half past two in the afternook, having accomplished in six and dog Be _ for a man. Mesiled, is quite a hero in his village. -’. HE WAS GETTING THERE. Mother: “T° hope you are not at the foot: of your class this week.” Johnnie! / “No, mother; I’m at just about the ankle!” _ a half hours what usually is estimated to require thirteen hours The presence of some tourists at the top insured this’ etact being properly attested, and Mont B lane, as the dog is now WEEKLY. Little Story by Your Favorite Author. JIM. By BURT L. STANDISH. s Fork of the Cannon Ball, on Black Hills. There the South our way from Bismarck to the we would halt fot the night. and myself rode on ahead. The schooners” came crawling like a E had reached Fulner, the guide, train’ of snake behind us. “Hark!” said Fulner, suddenly drawing rein and cocking his keen right ear to windward. ‘“What’s that?” “prairie We were near the river. I listened. “T can’t hear anything,” I confessed. “Wait a bit,” he directed. “I’m dead certain I heard a kind o’ wailin’, but I can’t hear it now.” We waited. It was not long before a strange sound came to ears. We looked at each other in astonishment. “Dern my guns!” “It’s a tune!” “And said I blankly. “It sounds a—like a “Fife !’”” YES." We advanced cautiously. The strains of the familiar air came more and more distinctly to our ears, as we approached the river, “It is a fife!” “Sure’s you’re born, pard.” The sun was almost touching the western horizon. the bank and looked down,-shading our eyes. “Dern my guns!” “A boy!” ~ Yes, a.boy—and alone! He was sitting on one of the famous round stones which line the banks of this strange river and give it its name. His back was toward us. His feet were bare, and a tuft of hair stuck up through a hole in the crown of his straw hat. With all his might he was blowing at the old fife.’ “Whar’s_t’others ?” Fulner asked the question, looking all around. No others were to be seén. We dismounted and went down. The boy was making so much noise and was so absorbed that .. he did not hear our approach or become aware of our proximity till I touched him on ‘the shoulder. He did not start or cry out. He lowered the fife, looked up and qaughed. There was something wrong about that laugh. “Yank’ Doodle,” he said. “Play it bully. Place Like Home,’ too. You hear me play.” Then he lifted the fife and started in on “Home, Sweet Home.” Fulner and [ looked at each other. We were astounded, we were bewildered. pes What did it mean? “Stop, boy!” I commanded. your friends?” “Me Jim,” our muttered the guide. ‘Yankee Doodle,’ too!” 99 like We reached Play ‘No Any “Who are you? and where are he answered. “Others lost, I guess. I get pretty ‘hungry, but have my_ fife.” Then we both questioned him. It did not take us long to find out he was lost there on the Dakota plain—lost in the heart of a land overrun with murderous redskins, for the savages were trying to. stop the rush of white men into the Hills. . He was half-witted, too. l wk He remembered a number of men HC Ke 4 Spin mathe i a Stags PIP 7tOEr, 1 wagons, and he, spoke of Ben and Billy, but he father and and women and did not seem to mother. know whether or not he had a “He’s prowled off from some train on the way to the Hills,” said the guide. on ’thout him, reckonin’ him dead.” “What shall we do with him?” “Tote him ther Hills, who he b’longs ter w’en we git thar.” There was no other way. The train came up, and we camped for the .night. Jim was soon made happy with enough to eat. Then I tried to get something more out of him. I failed. It seemed that he told everything when he was questioned in the first place. “The train may be near, an’ it may hev.gone with us inter Mebbe we'll find out 5 I took charge of the boy. He was not much trouble, for all that he was foolish. Night after night he sat by a fire, with the light fluttering over his vacant features, and played the two tunes he knew— “Yankee Doodle’ “Home, Sweet Day after day he sat on the spring seat of Jock Harper’s wagon and blew at the old fife, getting’ out bits of the tunes, broken by the jolting. Jock had a little girl. she liked Jim and his fife. she could dance to that tune. and Home,” She was blue-eyed and sun-haired, and She hiked “Yankee Doodle” best, for Jim played the other tune at night, and the strains often floated out sadly into the darkness, where skulked the prowling wolf. One day Hite fell off his wagon and broke his leg. Then Jim seemed to consider himself the guardian of little May, and he watched over her like a hawk. He was jealous of her in his way, and she tormented and teased him after the manner of a child. f So things went till we were hard down to the Hills. other day we would reach them. In an- We had halted for the midday meal on the open plain. Some- how, as we had seen no sign of Indians, everybody seemed to think all danger of an attack by them was past. All at once fifty red devils swept, down on the train. ; ‘Then there was hustling to swing the wagons into a circle, with the horses and men inside, to provide a means of protec- tion. . The redskins had not taken us as much by surprise as they , expected. We met them warmly with a hail of bullets, causing them to swerve and circle about us. yy “We'll make it cost ther p’ison cusses dear fer every chet they take out o’ this yar party,” said the guide. Of a sudden a cry came from Jock Harper. He was lyifig in his wagon, protected by flour bags all about him. “May—where is May?” His sunburned face peered canvas one hand had lifted: Where was the girl? We looked all around for her, and then somebody SB eEE: ; } “Mercy of Hiéksven took Bot thar !” We looked, and we saw her sitting beside ashen from ‘beneath the dirty a knoll out on the praitie, where she had been gathering wild grasses, at cast eight or ten rods, from our enclosure. ‘The red dogs had not seen her. She was protected from their . Mew by the knoll: ‘But she had been frightened by the shooting, and was crying. She would rise to her feet in a minute. Then the copper- ‘skins would riddle her with bullets, peur no man 60 ath thar fer her,” muttered the guide. re eae ts : aE rw WEEKLY. WITH “TIP TOP” IN DREAMLAND, BY R. D. E., MT. KISCO, Ni Vi One night I saty in thought serene, On many a book and magazine ; But) out the} crowd, with magic fling, Rose o’er and o’er the Weeklies’ King. First, Dick Merriwell stood: in view, Then dear Brad Buckhart, tried and true; And the fair, girls, so sweetly dressed— June, Claudia, and all the rest. Circus, “Cap” Wiley, Old Joe Crowfoot, the Frank Merriwell, the And then Bart Hodge, brimming fun, noble Indian; noblest of all— stalwart and tall. Next, with a hearty thrill of joy, I saw Arlington, the better boy, Then Joe Cohen, Dick’s Hebrew Here the glad vision had its end. friend, “Ther as he showed his nose.” “Don’t tell Harper—for mercy’s sake, No need to tell him—he saw her. “May, May—my little girl!” save her!” We turned away “Jim will fetch Then out from beneath a wagon darted . red skunks w’u’d plug ther critter soon don’t tell him!” he groaned: “Save her, boys— shuddered. her!’ ‘ the foolish lad. and Like a deer he raced toward the knoll. We watched him without: breathing. The redskins saw him. They sent up a mad yell, and twenty rode toward him. : Harper was praying—he was not the only one. “Merciful God, The rifles of the Indians spat forth puffs of smoke and deadly bits of lead. Still the boy ran on, apparently untouched. . He reached her—caught her up—turned! We saw him stag-_ is ger. The red fiends were hard on him, but we were working — our repeaters now, turning a torrent of bullets upon them. |. On cdme Jim, the curly head over ‘his shoulder, the little arms tight around his neck. He reeled—he stumbled—still he did not fall. ghastly, his eyes staring. The wagons were reached. A and the rescued child inside. Then went up! fierce yells, but we cheered again. “God bless you, Jim! You're a noble hero! her, and you shall be rewarded!” co rat Yes, rewarded—but in another world than this. He was bleed- ing from half a dozen bullet wounds, three of which were fearful 37 to look on.\ spare him—savye her!” His face ae eh dozen hands dragged the boy sf ae what a cheer The savages answered with | \ ‘ ca oe You have saved The guide examined them, When he rose to his) feet | he shook his head, and we knew it all. Little May was in her father’s arms. qty “IT fetched her,” Said Jim faintly. a be; hurt—P mth tired, My fife—where——~” ; Z He put it to his lips and played a bi Sweet ” His breath failed; he sunk back i the arms held about him; his chin dropped on his breast. ‘ With his fife clutched tight, Jim hag gone eo , rd They gave it to him of “Home, Home. bare Dakota plain, No diane marks the spot, -sleeps to-day, one of God’s own heroes. | { P 7 TOP English Game not Gentle. NE has heard much ‘talk recently of the American football and of the ness of the English Vale Alumni Weekly. “It is interesting, therefore, to read an accoukt of the iniquity of corresponding gentle- Rugby,” remarks the annual Oxford-Cambridge which was played’a short time ago in London, game The list of casu- alities would be considered'a fairly good: one for a Princeton or a Harvard game, but does not seem to have created the com- -. ment in England that the same number of accidents would have if\ they had occurred over here. “One reads that ‘Mr. Tarr broke his collarbone, Mr. Turner } . hada bad concussion, Mr. Cunningham lost several of his teeth, ~ and Mr. Gilray was badly knocked about.’ In addition, there . were several minor mishaps not so serious as knocking about, To the \unprejudiced observer it would seem ‘that the English game has ‘nothing on us.’” Princeton’s Captain not Disabled. HE reports that Captain-elect Hart, of the Princeton foot- ball team, had been declared by a physician unfit. to play ‘next season on account of injuries to his neck, and that hé was opposed to the election of W. W. Roper, ‘oz, as head coach has met with denial by Hart. “As for my being unable to play next season, I wish to state,” he says, ing that period, I have weighed two hundred pounds, and scarcely ‘ever have I had time taken out for me. - jured my neck while’ playing for Exeter. | kept on) playing. “In fact, I had no time taken out in that game. I played the next season at Exeter, a year at the Princeton preparatory school, and my freshman year at Princeton, without a headgear or any “I have been playing football seven years, and. dur- Four years ago | in- , other protection, and felt no inconvenience in playing, - “Rxcept for a shoulder injury on one occasion, I never had time taken out for me during the last season, and I don’t believe the opposing teams went out of their way to handle me with “care. The headgear I wore last season was really unnecessary, but in deference to the wishes of the coaches, I played with it | n. A physician who examined my neck last fall said it’ is _ a8 strong as any other part of my body. I intend to play next i season, and I hope this statement will put an end to the false and erroneous reports which have been circulated about my condition.” Athletics in the Army. HE United States soldier is tougher and stronger— physically tougher—than he was before the Spanish War,” said Capt. R. E. Thomas; of Wilmington, Del. ! “It is not the war which is to be thanked for it. Ath- letic training has done the work. It is said this country gives far more attention to the physical culture of its soldiers an does either Great Britain, France, or Germany. “While they require a daily setting-up exercise similar to our 1 m, these gun calisthenics and other prescribed forms of mus- - stretching ate supplemented in this country by athletic sports. ‘ “These aré not compulsory, They do not need to be, They $ organization, which backs its track team, its football ven, oF its baseball nine. This is just what the 'War Depart- ‘home. , tract given to some farmer to do the hauling. WEEKLY. ment wants them to do, it has organized a bureau for the encouragement of athletics. “Nearly every garrison has its commitiee, consisting of at least one commissioned officer, in addition to non-commissioned offi- cers and privates, to arrange programmes for field days, organ- ize teams and pick out the star men of the command to repre- sent it Jn the various events.” : Great Progress in Baseball. HOMAS J. LYNCH, president of the National Baseball League, said recently: “Generaliy speaking, it is doubtful that any season since baseball became a fixed institution in this country has seen so much progress made as the year 1909, In every department of the game there has been a noticeable im- provement. The artistic portion of the game has been made more attractive by the elimination of much of the wrangling that had marred the sport to some extent in the past, and by the influx of a greater number of capable young players than ever before in the history of the game. And in this improvement in the playing strength of the teams, the club owners not only gave additional impetus, but they went further to perpetuate it hy supplying the patrons with comforts such as were not dreamed of.a few years ago, “The coming season will see more improveinents along these lines, and with these improvements will come increased’ patron- age. The confidence which the public is showing in baseball makes it imperative for the club owners to keep the game clean and free from all questions, snarls or any controversies that might in the slightest degree cause a falling’ off of belief in the absolute honesty of the sport.” Ten Eyck for Princeton University. DWARD TEN EYCK, who for some time coached the Wisconsin crews, has been appointed athletic |direetor of Wisconsin University. As a rowing coach, Ten Eyck is well known among oarsmen, and his popularity at Wis- corsin is manifest by his appointment of athletic di- rector, which means that he will. have supervision of all branches over sports at the university. } TO SCHOOL IN HEATED WAGONS. In many. sections of Kansas the small boys and girls living on the farms have had to tramp from one to three miles. through the mud and snow to school. Now the plan of combining small” country districts about one graded school and providing com- fortable transportation for the youngsters is spreading rapidly. The consolidated school is the dissolution of two or more dis- tricts and the formation of a large one with a graded school in the centre. This makes the transportation problem an important one, and in all consolidated school districts the tax levy is made large enough to pay for hauling the children to school and back A wagon is often purchased by the district, and a con- Sometimes the farmer takes a long time contract and buys his own wagon. If a farmer desires to haul his own children to school, the district pays him a certain amount for doing it, or neighbors: may club together and turn, over this monéy to one boy, who drives the team each day and takes care of it and ~ sees that the children get to school all right and safely home. — But the most common plan is the use of a big covered and glass-, © enclosed wagon with an oil heater inside. m ‘a Figures compiled by the State Superintendent. oft Instruction ; show that the children do better work and in less time than — under the old methods. The statistics on. file in the office also } show that, even with this great hauling expense, the actual cost to the taxpayers is less in consolidated than in separate districts. Better teachers are employed and higher salaries paid, but there is a larger reduction in fuel, repairs and maintenance of the larger i than in several smaller structutes. © Cte een oe eT a ey ree eee ' have spent in reading it. 4 for eee supplies. , SLRS For APPLAUSE. Grateful for Many Pleasant Hours. Although I have read “Tip Top” for a short time, ] wish to express my gratitude for the many pleasart hours | [ have three friends reading it now, and expect to have more very soon. JAmes GIBNEY. Haverhill, Mass. j only Yes; it is an Easy Guess. You can guess what my brother and | when I say that we have started twenty or twenty-five friends reading it. Thanks to “Tip Top,” I neither smoke nor chew. Wishing Burt L. Standish a long life, we remain your friends. Moberly, Mo. HuLEN MISEMER, FReD MISEMER. think of “Tip Top” Helped On Athletic Field. “Tip Top” has helped me on the gridiron and baseball. dia- mond, .for when I got discouraged I would think of Frank or Dick Merriwell. I let everybody know that I read it and al- ways try to get them to take it, and have succeeded in my efforts more than once. Ray Leon. Humboldt, Kan. *Doesn’t Come Out Often Enough.” [ have been reading “Tip Top”. weekly for over two years without missing a week, and [ think it is the best five-cent weekly I have ever read. I have got. several boys to read it in the past year, and they all think it is great. The only thing I think is wrong about your paper is that it doesn’t come out, often enough. I wish it was published twice a week instead of once, and I am sure if it was everybody who feads it would be glad to have you do so. I think that all the charac- ters in “Tip Top” are fine. I think that Burt L. Standish is the best boy’s writer in America, and I am sure that all the “Tip Top” readers think the same. J. KEvLER?. Montreal, Canada. Used Before reading “Tip o Stay Out Late and Smoke. Top” I used to stay out late at night and smoke the sly.. Now I don’t. I find “Tip Top” the best weekly I have ever read. This is how I came to read it: A friend lent me one, and I took great interest in it. Instead of a pipe, I now read the Merriwell story and the other intdr- esting things in your fine weekly, James Rocers. Trenton, N. J. ; Helps Him to Control His Temper. I like “Tip Top” because it has such good stories and fine examples of manly courage in Frank and Dick Merriwell. It has helped me to control my temper under provoking circum- stances. My friends read it every week. I like Dick, Frank, June, Inza, and all their friends. Three cheers and long life for Burt L. Standish. ‘ WILLIAM BALDE. Brooklyn, N. Y. Appreciates Them, “Good and Plenty.”’ I think it would be a hard job to leave off reading “Tip Top,” having read them all from the -first one published, and, to the best of my knowledge, I have not missed over four or five. I don’t believe there is another man in the United States who could write a series of stories for as long a time, and keep up the interest like Burt L. Standish. Long may he continue to write his fine and realistic stories of baseball and other athletic sports. Living, as I do, on the banks of the Thames River, in sight. of the crews pratticing, I can appreciate the stories of the college boat races, good and plenty, fou just bet your boots. Gales Ferry, Conn. M. W. Moxtey. Your Enthusiasm is Splendid. I am an old timer of the “Tip Top Weekly.” all the numbers of the Medal Library, ahd think it is very fine. We have a reading club, arid have nearly all the “Tip Tops” and the whole story of Bill Bruce of Harvard, in the Popular _ Magazine. Every member must buy one of the latest “Tip Tops” and pay. in twenty-five cents for one month, which goes I have made seven young men “Tip I have cau WEEKLY. TIP TOP ROLL OF HONOR. Standish, that ap- peared in his letter to No. 480, the fol- Tip Toppers have won for themselves a place on Roll for efforts to the circulation of the King of Weeklies. boys and girls, and strive to Burtb. readers in Following the suggestion of Mr. Lig tkOp: lowing loyal their increase Get in line, our Honor have your name at the head of the list. % ‘¢Billie’? Burke, Montreal, Canada. Marsden Hayward, Sturgis, Mich. Raleigh Holt, Blanchard, lowa. Frank J. Curran, Jr., Syracuse, N. Y. August Frohnauer, Chicago, Ill. B. J. Kellert, Montreal, Canada. Otis Coe, Olma, Neb. Maggie C. Graham, Lonaconing, Md. Frank Wall, Pierce City, Mo. Pierre L. Beach, Goshen, Ind. V. F. Remmel, Arlington Ave., Pittsburg, Pa. Pete St. Pierre, Ottawa, Ont., Canada. H. S. Hossler, Canton, O. The names of other enthusiastic Tip Toppers will be added from time to time. Send in the result of your efforts to push the circulation of your favorite w eekly and win a place on the . Roll of Honor. FREE POST CARDS —Ttey will be sent to you if you tell us: Why you like Trp Top; what it has done to help you; what you are doing to help others by getting them to take Trp Top every week. Do this, and you will receive by mail a set of six » colored post cards with life like pictures of the principal characters in the Merriwell stories. Address your letters, “STREET & SMITH, 79-89 Seventh Avenue, New York City,’? and write in one corner of the envelope, ‘‘Tip Top Post Card Offer.” Top” converts since our club started two months ago. I am willing to exchange post cards rit readers of “Tip Top.” Chicago, Ill. Joun OBINGER. Saved Him from Drink and Cigarettes. A year ago I was a drinker and a cigarette fiend, but after reading some “Tip Tops,” and thinking what manly, men its heroes were, I decided to follow in their footsteps as near as I could. To-day I can look a person in the eye and truthfully say that I neither drink nor smoke cigarettes, thanks, to “Tip Top.” S. A. RICKARDS, Sacramento, Cal. Has Made Him Try to be Kind. “We have read “Tip Top” for about ten years, and vctile not be without it. I like it because it’ is so interesting, and because — of its moral principles. Since reading it, I have tried to be more generous and kind to all that I have anything to do with. I have got three of my friends to take it, and I am trying to get two more to take it by letting them read ours. Sturgis, Mich, Marspen Haywarp. Gt ‘ a Foremost Among Club’s Periodicals. I get “Tip Top” every Friday. My mother and father, objected to my reading it, but I urged them to read one, and since then they have never objected to my reading the King of Weeklies. — We have a club for reading, and “Tip Top” is the foremost among all our periodicals. Wutiam E. HALrican. Boston, Mass. a Steady Reader Finds It All to the Good. been reading “Tip Top” for three years, and it’s all to I am very fond of Dick, Frank and Chet Arlington, I hope to be on the se cheers for Burt L. i on ROURKE. I have the good. and hope. you will bring back Dave Flint. “Roll of Honor” in the near future. Th Standish and Street & epithe Cuddy, Pa. Talks with your chum ofa So many inquiries reach us from week to week concerning the various manuals on athletic development, which we publish, that we have decided to keep a list of them standing here. Any nuniber can be had by mail by remitting 10 cents, and 3 cents postage, for . each copy, to the publishers. | Prank Merriwell’s Book of Physical Development. | The Art of Boxing and Self-defense, by Prof. Donovan } U.S. Army Physical Exercises, revised by Prof. Donovan. | Physical Health Culture, by Prof. Fourmen. Sane ue fi In Shape for All-round Athletics. Pror, Fourmen: I would like your opinion of my medsure- ; ments: Age, 22 years; height, 5 ft. 734 in.; weight, 129 Ibs. } stripped ; chest, normal, 3814 in.; waist, 2814. Kindly let me } know what branch of ‘deleeice I could become proficient. in. New York City. Martin F. Materon. Your measurements are well up to the average for an all- round athlete, which you are fitted for. A Bad Sign for an Athlete. FouURMEN: lease tell me a.’ Pror. I what you, think of my /Measurements - Age, 15 yrs. 10 mos.; height, 5 ft. 2 in: svaist, 27 in.;°chest, normal, 287g in.; éxpanded, 3154 in:; weight, too of athletic work am I cut out for? \ ie What part Jacksonville, Fla. 1S WwW, You are about right save for your waist measurement, which shows a tendency toward stoutness. Look out for that; keep abstinence mentioned, sort of athletic work. waist measurement by exercise and foods. gut for the form for any your fattening ‘seem to be in correct defect you About Overcoats in Winter. FourMEN: Is an oWercoat absolutely Is there any danger in not wearing one? necessary in Is it proper _ Pror. winter? to keep windows open from top and bottom, and about how far? What is the correct way to sleep? M. -R. New York City. If you are accustomed to wearing an overcoat, you'd better On the milder days of winter, if you are provided you are Some men go through a winter without sesisanl but in a blizzard they look more Te etermined than happy. When sleeping have as much fresh a as you.can stand, getting it from either the top or the bottom of thie och window. | So long as you can sleep at all, don’t What are You Best Fitted for? Pror. Fourmen: I have the choice of two situations—one as teacher, the other as clerk on a railway. I am undecided hich to take. Will you please help me out of my difficulty? _ Atlanta, Ga. MarsHat S. GROLLE. | ‘The main question is one you alone can decide—which are ou better fitted for? Answer that, if you can, and you are t out of your. difficulty. Successful school teaching. seems to a gift. You must love the young and the work of training heir minds. If you feel that you possess these qualifications, e the place as teacher. If not, go into the: railroad- office, ; do your best there. o To Fight Against Round Shoulders. e Fourmen : L am sixteen years of age, 5 ft. 814 in. growing fast. My work compels me to lean over, and I TIP, TOP. WEEKLY. am growing round-shouldered. Can you tell. me how to offset this? I don’t want to grow up round-shouldered. Naga Wiwte Paut C. VANE. You should go in for dumbbell drill morning and evening. taking those exercises that particularly affect the shoulders. Sleep. on a mattress that is not too soft. Take as much otitdoor exercise.as you can.. When walking to and from your work as you should do—hoid your head well up, shoulders squared. and chest thrown well forward. Sit with your back square against the back of the chair; avoid sitting in a cramped posi tion. For Short-winded Football Lovers. Pror, FourMEn: 1 am very fond football, but I am short this defect? HEINEMANN, : may be overcome with persevet | Short, runs two slower runs on another two even i skipping rope—the rope should | winded. ‘Can you tell me what to do to Cleveland, Ohio. As a rule, short-windedness ance. E. L. BEenson... You are decidedly tall and thin, but you are also very young, and if your health is sound, time probably will give you the added weight that you need. you should study the science of nutrition and general health building. Plain, wholesome food, — exercise in the open air, plenty of sleep, and avoidance of tobacco will do much for you. om The History of Bill Pickens. Pror. FourMeN: 1 would like to know in what number Bill Pickens appeared as a cattle rus stler. It says in one of the recent. Merriwell stories that Frank drove ene out of thé cattle rustling in Wivenids. Joun Pace. Sayre, Pa That part fe Bill Bickers" history w hich relates to his career.as a cattle rustler in Wyoming was never recounted at length. The only reference to itis in the recent sae to which you refer. ‘Meantime; a 2 ° RO a oO 9260 > re 2 NO! ovo oO ©O0}9 69) ° 2S cs . 2 | A NEW PUBLICATION FOR BOYS |® g COG So 2 Ss ° ° o 2 °o Top-Notch Magazine BURT L. STANDISH, Editor 9y58 9 SC, oO oa 2 ° All readers of the Tip Top WEEKLY will be delighted to hear that Burt L. Standish has taken charge of a brand new publication for boys that is entirely different from anything ever published before. It- is known as the Top- Notch Magazine, and in it Mr. Standish has assembled nearly fifty thousand words of bang-up adventure fiction for: boys, by such authors as Robert Russell, Gilbert Patten, Albert W. Tolman, Edwin Larkmore and Julian St. Dare. 2, O39 2 ROR 69 e556 ° Gas 2 o)o a OOOITIOK x x x First comes “Bob Halliday, Fresh- | by Robert W. Tolman, a short story of Nx man,’’ a three-part story by Mr./| a cowboy’s thrilling adventure. DEC Oe Larkmore, which is woven ‘about the Julian St. Dare has given us a long i s eo Oo adventures of two Princeton freshmen. | complete story, -entitled “Clif Stirling, The second feature is a long install- | Captain of the Nine,’ which has abso- ment of a splendid serial that is bound to | lutely no equal as a baseball story. & ° 2 2 2 09/069 ° So 2, a °o a es hit right with every Tip Top reader. Itis Robért Russell has contributed “A 3 Cow called “The Deadwood Trail,” and Gil- | Scandal of the Gridiron,” a most absorb- BS ox bert Patten is the author. ing college tale of circumstantial RC deco The third feature is “In the Coulee,” | evidence. ae o © 9 d)oCo Mop Any one of the five features mentioned is worth the price we ask for ae \ the whole magazine, but together they represent such great value that no a 52¢ boy who purchases Top-Notch will be content to miss a single copy of it. BEG 2 69 a oS NG ° We feel that in securing Mr. Burt L. Standish as editor of this publication we have immediately endeared it to the hearts of thousands of boys who are familiar with his splendid work in the Tip Tor WEEKLY. He writes such wonderfully good stories himself that he is a most competent judge Oe to select interesting tales for our youth. '' The March number of Top-Notch, which will be issued monthly, will make its appearance about the 25th of February. We hope that you will place an order with your newsdealer for a copy of it, as the edition that we have prepared, although large, is not going to last very long. Price, Five Cents Per Copy At all newsdealers, or mailed direct by the publishers, upon receipt of price. STREET & SMITH, 79 SEVENTH AVE., NEW YORK CITY e265 = o0}O a Oo o a o NS 49)0(60 2° o G36 ° ° °, a 9 2 2 33909) ° Q 2, oe 2 2 10}0 69)9 69} ° ° 2 2 2 DO O}9GO}o. ° ° ° 2 3 2d 2S °o SS 2 o doce eo 2 9 Ss oCKo o PG ree ee et tere ~ Serna one eon a ei vers Spee Ne tng op pege oe os nee BAR LY NUMBLAS OF THE TIP TOP WEEKLY ARE PRESERVED IN THE NEW MEDAL LIBRARY The following books in the NEW MEDAL LIBRARY con- tain numbers 1 to 441 of the TIP TOP WEEKLY. Many of the individual numbers before 441 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 Merriwell’s School-days. 167—Frank Merriwell’s Chums. 178—Frank Merriwell’s Foes. 184—Frank Merriwell’s Trip West. 189—Frank Merriwell Down South. 193—Frank Merriwell’s Bravery. 197—Frank Merriwell’s Hunting Tour. 201—Frank Merriwell in Europe. 205—Frank Merriwell at Yale. 209—Frank Merriwell’s Sports Afield. 213—Frank Merriwell’s. Races. 217—Frank Merriwell’s Bicycle Tour. 225—Frank Merriwell’s Courage. 229—Frank Merriwell’s Daring. 233—Frank Merriwell’s Athletes. 237—Frank Merriwell’s Skill. 240—Frank Merriwell’s Champions. 244—Frank Merriwell’s Return to Yale. 247—Frank Merriwell’s Secret. 251—Frank Merriwell’s Danger. 254—Frank Merriwell’s Loyalty. 258—Frank Merriwell in Camp. 262—Frank Merriwell’s Vacation. 267—Frank Merriwell’s Cruise. 271—F rank Merriwell’s Chase. 276—Frank Merriwell in Maine. 280—Frank Merriwell’s Struggle. 284—Frank Merriwell’s First Job. 288—Frank Merriwell’s Opportunity. 292—Frank Merriwell’s Hard Luck. 206—F rank Merriwell’s Protégé. 300—Frank Merriwell on the Road. 304—Frank Merriwell’s Own Company. 308—Frank Merriwell’s Fame. 312—Frank Merriwell’s College Chums. 316—Frank Merriwell’s Problem. 320—Frank Merriwell’s Fortune. 324—Frank Merriwell’s New Comedian. 328—Frank Merriwell’s Prosperity. 332—Frank Merriwell’s Stage Hit. 336—Frank Merriwell’s Great Scheme. 340—Frank Merriwell in England. 344—F rank Merriwell on the Boulevards. 348—Frank Merriwell’s Duel. 352—Frank Merriwell’s Double Shot. 356—Frank Merriwell’s Baseball Victories 359—Frank Merriwell’s Confidence. 362—Frank Merriwell’s Auto. 365—Frank Merriwell’s Fun. 368—Frank Merriwell’s Generosity. 371—Frank Merriwell’s Tricks. 374—Frank Merriwell’s Temptation. 377—Frank Merriwell on Top. 380—Frank Merriwell’s Luck. 383—Frank Merriwell’s Mascot. 386—Frank Merriwell’s Reward. 3890—Frank Merriwell’s Phantom. 392—Frank. Merriwell’s Faith. 305—Frank Merriwell’s Victories. 308—Frank Merriwell’s Iron Nerve. 401—Frank Merriwell in Kentucky. 404—Frank Merriwell’s Power. 407—Frank Merriwell’s Shrewdness. 410—Frank Merriwell’s Set-back. 413—Frank Merriwell’s Search. 416—Frank Merriwell’s Club. 419—Frank Merriwell’s Trust. 422—Frank Merriwell’s False Friend. 425—Frank Merriwell’s Strong Arm. 428—Frank Merriwell as Coach. 431—Frank Merriwell’s Brother. 434—Frank Merriwell’s Marvel. 437—Frank Merriwell’s Support. 440—Dick Merriwell at Fardale. 443—Dick Merriwell’s Glory. 446—Dick Merriwell’s Promise. 449—Dick Merriwell’s Rescue. 452—Dick Merriwell’s Narrow Escape. 455—Dick Merriwell’s Racket. 458—Dick Merriwell’s Revenge. 461—Dick Merriwell’s Ruse. 464—Dick Merriwell’s Delivery. 467—Dick Merriwell’s Wonders. 470—Frank Merriwell’s Honor. 473—Dick Merriwell’s Diamond. 476—Frank Merriwell’s Winners. 479—Dick Merriwell’s Dash. 482—Dick Merriwell’s Ability. 485—Dick Merriwell’s Trap. 488—Dick Merriwell’s Defense. 491—Dick Merriwell’s Model. 404—Dick Merriwell’s Mystery. 497—F rank: 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, 521I—Dick Merriwell’s Disguise. 524—Dick Merriwell’s Test. 527—Frank Merriwell’s Trump Card. 530—Frank Merriwell’s Strategy. 533—Frank Merriwell’s Triumph. 536—Dick Merriwell’s Grit. 5390—Dick Merriwell’s Assurance. 542—Dick Merriwell’s Long Slide. Published About December 7th. 545—Frank Merriwell’s Rough Deal. Published About December 28th. 548—Dick Merriwell’s Threat. Published About January 18th. 551—Dick Merriwell’s Persistence. Published About February 8th. §54—Dick Merriwell’s Day. STREET & SMITH, Publishers, NEw YorK CITY