No.74:7 AUG.6,1910 3 CENTS P WE DEAL PUBLICATION. FOR THE - | a i *“‘Oh, please come quickly!’’ she went on. ‘Father is behaving so Strangely. He means to do—some- thing dreadful—to—the young man he has locked up.’’ An ideal fublication i: Issued Weekly. No. 747. / @ 2 By BURT L. STANDISH. ‘ CHAPTER IT. WHAT WAS. IT? The placid waters of the lake were scarcely rippled by the gentle breeze as a Peterborough canoe shot out : from the shore and headed for an island which jutted _ up prominently half a mile away. _ In the stern sat Bouncer Bigelow, perspiring from every pore. His fat arms, bared to the elbow and burned to the color of raw beefsteak; wielded the pad- dle clumsily, and every time he thrust it into the water he grunted breathlessly. He had been lured into the cance by Portes Tucker; who suggested that they take a short paddle close to the boathouse, where no exertion would be required. But 5 as soon as they were well out of reach of land, the little fellow was suddenly seized with a desire for ex- -ploration, and, despite the vehement protests of Bouncer, he turned the bow northward. \ They. had gone some six miles alorig the shore, and igelow was almost reduced to a rag when Tucker ajo: out into the lake and headed toward the island. S By subscription $2.80 per year. Entered as Second-class Matter at the N. V. Post Office, by STREET & SMITH, 19-89 Seventh Ave., NV. ¥. tN Copyright, 1910, y STREET & SMITH. NEW YORK, August 6, 1910. | Dick Merriwell’s Enigma THE MYSTERY OF MERMAID ISLAND. ee _ plaintively. “Come now, get busy and do a little work. ‘away off.” ; Price Five Cents. 8 |» - % “I don’t see why you don’t go back to the clubhouse; my arms are most dropping off.” ‘Do you good, Big, old fellow,”. Tucker grinned. “Take some fat off you. If you 'd only get rid of about fifty pounds you’d feel fine.” “I don’t want to get rid’of fifty pounds,” snapped Bouncer, “I'd be a mere shadow—it would wreck my constitution. I’ve lost about ten now, and that’s enough.” : “Well, we'll paddle around Mermaid Island, and then perhaps we'll start back,” Tucker conceded., If you think I’m going to pall your big carcass around, you’re ’ Bigelow rolled his eyes wanttulls and resumed his clumsy splashing. eee The island which they were approaching was a small _ one, covering perhaps three or four acres. It was ~ high and very rocky, especially on the side facing the C land, where the cliff rose a sheer fifty feet from the water without a break. — On the other side it sloped more gradually, and there were several places where it was possible to make s 2 3 peed de. ee , a landing! In’spite of the rocky nature of the soil there was quite.a growth of pines and hemlocks, with a few small oaks, which were ifiterspersed with a thick tangle of undergrowth. Thete was also a vast quan- tity of vines—principally woodbine—which grew pro- fusely aff over the island and even hung down over the face of the cliff.to the very water, covering the rocks with a beautiful shimmering curtain of dark green. As the canoe approached the island Bigelow drew in his paddle and i his face with the back of his hand. “Well,” he puted, “T hope you’ re satisfied now you've got here.” ‘Tucker made no reply; he was eying the rocky shore - curiously. “‘Lonesome-looking Alace. isn’t it?” he remarked presently. “Wonder why they call it Mermaid Island?” ; , oe sure I don't know,” name.” ie) ets “Well, let’s ves around to the other side,” Tucker went on. “I want to see how it looks at close range.” . yawned Bigelow. “Silly With: a sigh, Bouncer plunged his paddle into the water again, and under their combined efforts the light craft danced over the water. a The shore rose abruptly i in great uneven masses of | rock, rapidly growing higher, whose ruggedness was softened by the cascades of living green. They had to ‘keep some little distance out to avoid grazing some, of the treacherous boulders scattered about in the _water, but presently, rounding a huge, buttresslike mass, ‘they. had a good view of the high cliff with its curtain of vines, rustling in the breeze and rete _in the bright glare of the morning sun. Tommy Sed: paling and surveyed, it. atthe a _ miration. bv: -. “Now, that’s what I call a very ‘oretty. eight * he ‘ said judicially. “Did you ever see anything 7 that peat Pa Te a 5, nue peed But Bouncer was in no humor to. ahyrocinin the ph beauties of nature: + “No,” he snapped, ‘ ‘nor want to again, I don’t see why I was ever fool enough to——” ; sa? hissed Tticker suddenly. “What's that f Bigelow’ seyes tolled alarmingly, ==§ _ “What's what?” he asked, in a hoarse whisper, don’ t see anything.” “Over there by that tock,” returned Tommy, ‘in a’ OW tone. | *T saw something 1 move.” | } ; oT y WEEKLY. He dipped his paddle carefully in the water and the canoe moved noiselessly forward a few feet. Suddetily he caught his breath. “It’s a girl!” he gasped. “Jiminy cripes! girl in the water!” Bigelow, almost upSet the canoe in his efforts) to, catch a glimpse of Pe “Ts—she—drowning _“Not.a bit of it. big rock.” he eurgled excitedly. Tommy pointed an agitated finger, and at last 3ouncer saw. Close. beside a great boulder about a hundred focte away was the head and shoulders of a young girl. by the water which reached well above her waist. was not standing, but seemed rather to be sitting on a— a s sitting in the water by that — gl " Her / back was toward them, and the rest of her was hidden She — submerged rock, and leaning against the larger boul- pid der. Her luxuriant, wavy chestnut hair fell about her face, and as Bigelow caught sight of her, one white arm was outstretched, the fingers dabbling carelessly in the water. To the two watchers there was ‘something almost un canny in the sight of this young creature basking in the sun at the edge. of that lonely island in the midst of a wilderness. Who was she? was that of the Jubilee Club, six miles away, where Tommy and Bouncer, together with Dick Merriwell, the famous Yale pitcher, and his chum, Brad Buck- hart, were staying. quarters of the Top Notch Club—even’ farther down the lake—there was no human habitation for ats and miles. _ And yet, here was a young and eae love y hie air “of Heth absolutely unconcerned and at : ease, ‘Tt-was amazing. ) Presently Bigelow recovered his power of speech. ~“Wa—wa—what’s pane doing there?” he stammer “Whose? / F Clening arms—a sash wiekte of somet ae / What was she? The ae Aside from that, and the head- : Liye TOP “dl _ “She’s dived!’ gasped Bouncer, his eyes like saucers. 4 “She'll’be up in a minute.” . In spite of Tucker's efforts to speak carelessly, his -_ voice was a little unsteady. “Get busy, Big,’ he went on, “and we'll paddle over - there.” ' “on They worked the canoe in toward the big rock, _,]| . which was some thirty feet from the #ce of the cliff, ,»} and _ there found, as they had expected, a smaller } boulder just beneath the water, on which the unknown ‘had been sitting. ! ; Beyond the boulder the water was quite clear of fallen rocks and seemed to be very deep. It was only _ by straining his eyes that Tucker could faintly dis- cern the bottom, but there were no signs of the girl. Five minutes passed—ten. The smooth surface was unbroken ; not even a tiny bubblé hadrisen to hint at the presence of a human being in those mysterious _ depths. They waited another five minutes in silence, and Phen Tucker turned and looked at Bouncer. ° “Well, what do you think of that?” he ejaculated. Bouncer made no reply. His staring eyes were and there near the shore with jutting rocks—none of _ them large enough to conceal a haman being. Then he SP eaicnd his head and thoughtfully scanned the inac- : cessible cliff with its covering of vines. e go to?” Tucker continued, in a perplexed tone.. ‘The fat chap withdrew his eyes from the rocks and looked at his companion. RECN Fak Gants een was not a girl,” he said a but with con- viction.. ot a girl! Fe Minti Tucker. “What the mischief ' Bouncer shook his hid vik pone eran tty, “Tt wasn’t a girl,” he repeated. “You talk like a dill pickle,’ Tucker snapped exas- peratedly. “What was it, then?” ‘ The fat fellow’s eyes were wide open and unblink- ing. ; “It was a ‘ermaid,” he announced solemnly. hat’s why it’s called Mermaid Island,” ° ‘ | Tommy burst into a shout of laughter. Pht] “ talk nutty, es he ee Fe Therste no WEEKLY. roving over the open expans€ of water, dotted here “Where in the name of: witchcraft did that girl rity—he did not seem anxious to linger on the spot— dercurrent of ridicule. ° - water toward the clubhouse. “How do you know?” he inquired with much signifi- cance. “Just because you never saw one, you sit up and deny there is such a thing.. Did you ever know a person to stay pees water for fifteen or twenty minutes?” : Tucker stopped laughing. “No, of course, not; it’s an impossibility. She must have gone somewhere.” | “Where'd she go, then?’ demanded the other with some heat. “She didn’t come out of the water or we'd have seen her. And if she’s a girl, what's she doing around here? They’re no houses for miles and miles. You're so smart, Tucker, answer me that.” Tommy shook his head. “You've got me, Big,” he said slowly. “I haven't an idea. But a mermaid—that sounds loony.” Bouncer leaned forward earnestly. “Did you see that black, shiny thing when she went into the water?” he asked. “Why, yes,” Tucker Scatotielsed: “There was something black, but I didn’t get a good look at it.” Bifelow drew a long breath. . , “That—was—the—tail,” he said slowly, i in an awed tone. “Rot!” Tommy exclaimed; but somehow his voice | lacked its customary assurance. The fat fellow settled back with a shrug of his shoulders. “Have your own way,” he returned resignedly ; “but _ I say she’s a mermaid.” ~ : Tucker took up his paddle. ag ode “Whatever she is, it’s time we were,getting back to 3 the club if we want to see any tennis. You*talk mer- mafd to the fellows and see what they say.” Bouncer plunged his paddle into the water with alac- and, with a swerve, ‘they headed the canoe about and started away from the island. : They were about two hundred feet out, when sud- denly from behind them came distinctly the sound of laughter—clear, rippling, Seo with a faint un- Turning swiftly, they wére just in time to see.a shapely white arm rise out of the deep pool by Se « clit and then sink slowly out-of sight. Bouncer bestowed a significant glance at his cone: panion, and then, without any urging, he bent to his paddle, and presently the canoe was eying sarong the | CHAPTER II. A GO AT TENNIS. ‘An exciting game of tennis was nearing the end on one of the fine courts back of the Jubikee Clubhouse. Brian Cleves, the president of the club, and Malcolm Grimshaw, were. very everily matched. Cleves was conceded to play the steadiest, all-around game, though Grimshaw frequently surpassed him in single shots or rallies of extraordinary brilliancy. He was apt, however, to go to pieces occasionally, which more than evened things up. That the set had been a hotly contested one the score in games showed, it being 9 to 8 in favor of Cleves. If he could make the.next game the set would be his, and with it the championship of the club. Perched on a barrel, overlooking the court, Dick Mertriwell was scoring, while the other Jubers, as the club members called themselves, had various points of _ vantage and were nes the playing with eager in- terest.:. ;. / 4 In the midst of a rally, Cleves hit the ball a,low, smashing stroke intending to place it in the far corner - of the court.’ Instead, it grazed the net and dropped dead before Grimshaw, who played on the serving line, could touch it. 7 : “Vantage out,” called Merriwell. ' Grimshaw scowled a little as he returned the balls. T ry as he would he could not take defeat gracefully. He did not seem to realize that he could not™win all . the time, and in moments of excitement his naturally hot temper—usually kept under control—was apt to show up and lead him. to do or say things which-he always regretted afterward. ~ Cleves’ first ball was a cut, but his opponent returped it easily and the rally commenced. Cleves played a net game, trusting to his height and reach to stop every- thing which came over. Grimshaw preferred stand- _ ing well-back in the court where he was ee to oe ; i them better. Back and forth the ball flew with such swiftness that Kn - Dick had all he could do to keep track of it. All at once Grimshaw lunged forward to return a particularly difficult shot which Cleves had placed close to the net. ‘He just got it, amidst a murmur of applause from the onlookers, and gave it a smashing cut which sent line where it raised a little spurt of dust. \ - Merriwell decided i in‘an instant. “Out!” he called. ‘Game and set.” ie ae Boe Fhe it ‘TIP TOP “, nicely.” -asperity, “isythat you take things too much to heart. eyes flashing. it whizzing past Cleves’ extended racket to the base that ¢hip off his shoulder.” | dees all right, _ in the club,” WEEKLY. “That wasn’t out,” he said quickly. “It hit the base | Bese? line.” « | 6p ae Dick shook his head smilingly. ea “About two inches the other side,” he answered. ieee “But I saw the lime from. the base line fly up,” per- sisted Grimshaw. “That was where I slopped it when I was marking the court this qnorning,” “You're | licked, Mac, you may as well take your medicine Cleves laughed. Grimshaw clenched his fists and bit his lips. a ORY can win a game if they don’t care how. they do it,” he said sneeringly. eb The smile vanished from Cleves’ face and he took — a step forward. 1 “What do you mean by that?’ He asked, a trifle warily. a “That vantage point you made,” the olives snapped, — “where your ball hit the net and dropped dead—do you call that a sporty play?” % Cleves’ face cleared again. 4 “Oh, is that what’s troubling ‘you! ?” he stalled. s “That was a perfectlyfair ball; it wouldn’t have. been | especially sporty if I’d done it intentionally, but acci- dents will. happen, you ‘know.” “Oh, an accident, was it?” sneered the other incredu- lously. : He was growing more resentful. The very futility and childishness of his arguments only served to in- crease his rage, and he was rapidly losing en of his temper. — “The trouble with you, Mac,” Cleves said with some You can’t get licked at any thi ung without raising howl, pe : eee flung his racket on the ground. | “Oh, can’t 1?” he rasped, his face flushed and his a “Well, one of these days, Cleves, ie make it a point to lick you good and plenty at some thing.” \ W ithout waiting for a reply, he turned and walke rapidly away in the direction of the woods. . _ Cleves shrugged his shoulders resignedly. _ “That's the worst of Mac,” he remarked. ply cannot take his medicine gracefully. decent a fellow as you'd want to meét if he'd only ke ies. ae s a quitter,” asserted Reddy Taylor. “Hie sgo You've done up seesligil y els ‘ - a set now. ir eke “How about that, pard?”’ drawled Brad Buckhart. “T sure don’t recollect your being roped and saddled.” Cleves turned swiftly to Merriwell. “Why, of course, you haven't played!’ he exclaimed contritely. “That was rotten stupid of me. Let’s have Do you feel like it?” “You won't have any trouble in putting it all over me,” Dick smiled. “I’m beastly rusty—haven’t had a _ racket in my hand for months.” “TJ opine you may snatch a game or two out of the set,” the big Texan grinned. ‘You hear me softly - warble.” » “What racket will you have?’ Cleves asked. Dick picked up the one Grimshaw had thrown dow n and balanced it in his hand. “This feels pretty good to me,” he said. 5s “Rough, or smooth?” called Cleves, oe racket in the air. “Rough.” peepee it is, serve.’ Cleves had a peculiar and difficult cut which he ee _ pended on a good deal in serving. It was seldom that any one could touch it until after they had played w ith him for some time, and Dick was no exception to the rule. “Fifteen love,’ announced Taylor from the barrel. - They crossed the court and Cleves tried the cut again. This time Dick was ready for it and sent it ‘back with a swift underhand slam, and the’rally com- _menced, . Like Grimshaw, Dick played well back in the court. aie played a slashing game, depending more on speed and skill in placing than upon cuts, though he occasion- ally made use of them when he saw that they would be effective. From the first he ave well, if not brilliantly, and ”» the other smiled. ” the first two games went-to Clev es, though not without their having been hotly contested. : - It was evident that, as Dick had said, he was hha. But it was also evident that with every volley his play- ing improved. His returns were swifter, his placing more and more accurate, so that, though Cleves also won the third game, it was only by the hardest kind . The Foliteh gaime was a long, hard fight. ye and forth, for neither of them could seem tossing his “T’ll take the — - Quickly ‘score went to deuce, and there it remained, waver- . WEEKLY. Finally Dick had his vantage, and then, as the cul- mination of a volley of amazing swiftness, he smashed the ball into the far corner of the back court out of Cleves’ reach, and the game was his. “Great Scott!’ exclaimed Tod Evans, as Merriwell tossed the balls to Cleves for his serve. “I never saw such playing between amateurs—and Merriwell says he’s rusty.” “Whoop!” yelled Buckhart. “Keep it up, partner! You've sure got him going. You hear me chirp!” The fifth game went through with a rush. Dick was playing brilliantly now—better than Grimshaw at his best and without any of the latter’s disastrous slumps ; and almost before he knew it, Cleves had lost two games in succession and the score was even, 3 to 3. At the crucial point in the seventh game the Yale man missed a stroke by slipping on the court and gave the game to his opponent. He made up for this by winning the next after a. hard-fought battle, and the games were again even. Cleves was beginning to feel the effeets of such rapid playing. His face was flushed and his forehead moist. His breathing quickened. Merriwell, on the contrary, was as calm and unruffled as though he had just begun, There was a half smile on his face, and a look almost of indifference as he waited for the Harvard man to serve. . bets’ oe The moment the ball was over the net, however, he | leaped at it like a tiger and the struggle began anew. Dick’s returns came with such lightning-like swiftness that Cleves had no time for his famous cut; he was hard put to get the ball over at all, and was soon forced back fronv his favorite position close to the net in order to do anything with the slashing, swinging stroke of his opponent. Dick at once proceeded to place one ball near the , net out of Cleves’ reach and the next close to the base line, and in a few minutes the game was his. The Harvard man_was breathing in gasps and ‘plainly a lmost all in. | “Let’s take a rest for a minute and get our - breath, ms Merriwell SysEestesy as he scooped up the balls with his racRet. | \ Though perfectly fresh himself, he had seen he other’s condition, and wary to give him time to Te- cover, / . me Fb _ Evidently Cleves saw through his scheme. ; : “No, you don’t, Richard,” he said pluckily. “That won't work. There’s nothing the matter with your sta ie m ae one ‘that s st in. rey, the: ae TIP TOP WEEKLY. With a rather rueful smile he took his position to receive the other’s serve. Nevertheless, Dick managed to delay a few minutes by dropping one ball and letting it roll across the court. He walked slowly after it and then returning to the base line, smashed a ball over. Cleves returned it and the volleying began. did not last long; Dick’s placing, comhined with his wonderful physical en- durance, were too much for his opponent. The Har- vard man was game to the end and played to the ut- most of his ability, but he stood no chance at all. He lost four points in*succession ahd then dropped his racket, as Reddy Taylor yelled: : “Love game—and set!” ““Whoop-ee!” whirling his hat around his head. ing, allow! For a chap that hasn’t had a rane A in his -_paw for three months, that’s going some.” “Talk about speed!” put in Reddy Taylor. I’m darned glad I wasn’t in Brian’s place.” But it “If you play that “way when you're rust¥,” Tod Evans remarked, “‘I’d hate like the deuce to be up against you when you're in practice, Merriwell.” Dick smiled. , , “T started in rusty,” he explained, “but I warmed up afterward.” ‘Well, just.a little!” Pete Coupiider laughed. Brian Cleves walked over to the group and OreEred down on the grass, with a gasp. 4 “By Jove, Merriwell!” he exclaimed; “you've cer- _ tainly got my wind for fair. [ll have to train some before I play with you again. I never saw such a fel- low as youare. Why don’t you go in for tennis more? You could easily put it over a lot of these crack play- Dick smiled. “Can't go in for everything, Cleves,” he said. there are other things I like better.” | /“And “Oh, look who's here!” Harcourt sang out suddenly. “Too late, Tucker; it’s all over. _Merriwell’s just been immed.’ + Tommy Tucker hurried 4 across the court and joined ee the others. “Humph!” he snorted incredulously. . your grandmother! | Who trimmed him?” ~ Harcourt motioned to Cleves, and the little fella: : ‘looked from him to Dick with a knowing wink. “Looks like it, don’t he?” he remarked significantly: ° ‘ Then he suddenly sobered down, he, amazing speed and skill in~ roared Buckhart, springing up and . “That’s some play- “Gee! “Tell that to “Say, what do you think we saw in the water over at Mermaid Island?” he demanded seriously. “Give it up,” Cleves smiled. “What was it—a mer- maid?” Tucker’s jaw dropped, and he stared at the Harvard man open-mouthed. “How’d—you—know?” he you seen it, too?” “Seen what?’ Cleves asked, in a perplexed tone. “Well, Big swore it was a mermaid,’ Tucker said ‘hesitatingly ; “but I thought it was just a girl swim- ming around.” For a minute no one “spoke; pt Cleves smiled broadly. ' “What’s the joke, Tommy?” he asked. I’m dense, but I don’t quite see the point.” “Joke!”’ snapped the little fellow. “It’s not a joke. Big and I went qver to Mermaid Island in one of the canoes, and around by the high ‘part thats all coy- a ered with vines, we saw a girl in the water.” “A gitl in the water!’ echoed the Harvard man. “How could there be? There are no houses within a) radius of fifteen miles of here. You're crazy.” e “But I tell you we saw her,” persisted Tucker ear- 7 nestly. “Big said There he comes now. Hustle Magy, Patty. i e Lae erspiring and breatliless, Bouncer hove in galt AE cca that moment and hurried ponderously toward them. . “Didw't we see a birl over at the island just now?” ~ Tucker appealed to him, “It wasn’t a girl,” the fat fellow puffed. mermaid.” A shout of laughter drowned any further explana- . tion on the part of the two epee Finally Dick é caught his breath. 3 “I’m surprised at you, Tommy,” he said severely. stammered. “Have “Perhaps “Tt was acs: “You've been leading Bouncer astray again ; yor ve been hitting the vinegar bottle.” Tod Evans edged closer and ostentatiously sniffed : their breath. : ( “That’s funny,” he remarked. ‘Nothing doing—no- booze or vinegar.” -Tucker’s face, which had tiiiied a little like: a thur dercloud, suddenly cleared, and he made himself cont fortable on the ground. 5 es “Gee! She was a peach, ” he mused.“ “Too bad you fellows couldn’t have seen her. Long, curly brown hair and ripping eyes. I tell you, the look she gave me when she dived ito the water was ks start even my callous old heart thumping.” TIP: FOF “Why, didn’t you ask her where she belonged?” 4... Cleves grinned. £m “She never came out of the water,” Bigelow broke } in seriously. “We watched for a long time, but she | never came out.” ; ee “Too bad!” jibed Dick. “She must have been a ‘| - mermaid, then. How was she dressed, Tommy? Did ___ she have the regulation fish-tail ?” : bi Tucker smiled knowingly as though he could tell a @ great deal if he chose. Then he stood up leisurely. Ae ; re “Never you mind how she was dressed,” he returned + | significantly. “I was foolish to tell you fellows any- _ thing about her. Come on, Big; leave these unbeliev- ing infidéls and put the canoe up—we forgot it.” Bouncer followed him rather reluctantly, but at the corner turned back, ms 8 “Don’t anybody swipe the Peterborough to-morrow morning,” he remarked. “Big and I are going for a little trip—to Mermaid Island.” \ CHAPTER III. THE DISAPPEARANCE OF CLEVES. ‘As Malcolm Grimshaw left the tennis court and _ plunged into the nearby woods he was in a furious rage. The fact that he was totally in the wrong and had not the slightest excuse for his behavior made no difference whatever. _ He knew perfectly well that he was acting like a child—that he was or the vicious streak which he usually tried so hard to hide. - curate notion of what the fellows were saying of him the truth, fea a All this he realized perfectly, and yet he continued to rage and utter maledictions on all the members of the Jubilee Club, from its president down. It was simply the case of a fiery, naturally ungovern- able. temper, slipping the leash of self-control. But though he might—and sometimes did—say or do things when in a rage of which he was afterward heartily sorry, there was nothing cowardly, or mean about the fellow. si Handicapped by a father who was a thorough ras- cal, and oy a total lack of meth seers or con- pr nclanes. inherited from a oe mother, and to the hat he had grown up out of reach of his father’s WEEKLY. z He had a pretty ac- at that moment, and felt that it would be no more than a paddle close at hand, and he quickly a — into the undergrowth and waited. dled by a solitary individual, came into b sagt some two | Le hundred feet off shore. pernicious influence. Of course he had had his temp- tations and struggles and hard-fought battles, but he had come out the victor in everything save in ‘the mat- ter of his temper. Even that he usually had under good control, but despite his efforts to the contrary, the one thing which was almost sure to rouse him to a fury, was to be beaten at some game or sport to.which he had given much time and energy, and at which he was proficient. For some little time after leaving the club grounds he stumbled blindly through the woods, not knowing nor caring where he was going, tripping over fallen logs and hidden rocks, tramping recklessly through little brooks, his mind filled with furious thoughts to the exclusion of everything else. Then, as the frenzy subsided, his better nature be- gan to prevail. Why had he been such a cad? Why on earth couldn’t he behave decently when he was fairly beaten and show a true sporting spirit the way other fellows did? It was humiliating—debasing. A sense of shame stole over him as he realized how he must have appeared to the others, and then and there he resolved once more to strive with all his might for self-mastery. sis He looked quickly around and found that he wasin ~ a thick tangle of undergrowth. Struggling: through this, he reached a more open stretch of pine trees be- yond, where the walking was better; for he felt that, somehow, he couldn’t go back and face the fellows just yet. He would take a long walk first and get him- self thoroughly i in hand. ‘He went steadily on for nearly an hour, and then the glitter of the lake through the trees to his right attracted him, and he pushed through the thickets to the beach. | There he found, to his surprise, that he was'on the shore facing Mermaid Island. He had no idea he had come so far. He had never been quite so close to it before, and for a few minutes he stood silently study- ing it. All at once his quick ear caught the faint splash Bee: The Sound came closer, and presently a canoe, 7a Grimshaw repressed an. exclamation of . surprise with difficulty, for the man was Brian Cleves, who soon swerved eer from shore’ and headed aaig for the pe He w as bareheaded and barearmed, and paddled TIP TOP with a strong, swift stroke which sent the light craft dancing prer the water. As he approached the island he moderated his speed and circled around by the high, vine-covered cliff. Grimshaw could see him examine the frowning precipice intently, and then the canoe dis- appeared around the island. In about ten minutes he came into sight again on the lake side, having made a complete circuit. ment he hesitated, holding the canoe still by extending the paddle flat out on the water. Then he headed straight for the island, and the next instant had van- ished behind some fallen boulders. | “Now, what.in the world is he doing here?” Grim- shaw muttered. “Looks as though he were making a landing.” Just why he waited he did not know. It was none of his business where Cleves went, nor what he did; but Grimshaw could not help wondering what had brought the man alone to this out-of-the-way place. Ten minutes passed—fifteen. Then the canoe came into sight again, bobbing gently away from the island. It was empty. ' ; “Great Scott!’ Grimshaw exclaimed, eyes with his hand. ces not in it! thing has floated away.” Anxiously he watched the course it would take, and before long saw, with much satisfaction, that the light breeze blowing off the lake would carry it close to shore a little distance down the beach. \ ‘ shading his The Te it along the bank. Now it was within a hundred feet; minute the wind shifted a little and it began to bob out into the lake again. In an instant Grimshaw had stripped off his clothes and waded into the water. Then he launched forward with powerful strokes and quickly reached the flighty craft. He did not dare to climb aboard, but swam back to shore pushing it in front of him. Rapidly dressing, he got into the canoe, picked up the paddle, which lay in the bottom, and headed toward _ the island. | As he came up to the aah where he had seen Cleves disappear, he founda narrow strip of beach _where a landing could easily be made, and, running the canoe in, he stepped ashore: There was a faint mark on the sand where the bow ae been barely aah ‘out of water. “No wonder it broke loose,” Grimshaw mattered is his eye fell on that mark. Mighty careless of you, é For a mo-: : -earth where hardy pines and hémlocks had taken root. 7 3 As the canoe came slowly closer, Grimshaw followed. presently that distance had been cut-in half. ‘The next. WEEKLY. \ He lifted the craft well up on the beach dnd then | turned inland. : “T suppose he’ll be mad as the deuce at my butting ( in this way,” he thought. “But I can't help that. My being around has got him out of a mean fix.” The ground sloped sharply upward as he advanced, and very soon he saw that the island was one great =| mass of solid rock, with here and there patches of | This ground likewise nourished the quantities of vines ae that trailed everywhere. The'greater part of the interior was in the form of an irregular plateau, which sloped roughly toward the lake, and on the side facing the mainland rose, still higher to the summit of the cliff. From where he stood he could see almost the whole of the island, but’ there were no signs of Cleves. : “That's funny,” Grimshaw muttered. “I-wonder — ee where he’s hiding. Hello, Bri!” he shouted. ao Pe): are you?” =. gS aan ‘There was' no answer, the place was silent as a as tomb. } Grimshaw put his fingers to his lips snd whistled shrilly. Then he stood listening intently for a reply; but none came. yr “That’s the strangest thing I ever knew,” he said to... himself. “Where in the mischief has he gone?” He hesitated a moment and then turned to the right and pushed his way through little clump of tr ees to- ward the only part of the island of which he did not 44 have a good view. - | ve The next instant he had reached the rocky shore and was looking down at the water. There was no one there. ae Gtimshaw began to be seriously alarmed. What could have happened to Cleves? How could he pos- sibly have disappeared so squapleteet in this confined place? sit He ran back through the trees with nervous ae and hurried to the other end-of the island. In ten minutes he had searched every nook and corner, even climbing to the top of the cliff; but all in vain. He ' could find not the slightest trace of his friend. The (Harvard man seemed to have vanished into thin air. As Grimshaw stood hesitating in the centre of the plateau, he felt a strange, creepy sensation come over him. The thing was unreal—uncamny. Less than an now there was absolutely no trace of him. He Hdl not left it in the vay that was certain. Se Grim- cat ee i: “He might have fallen into the water, I suppose,” i he muttered. “It isn’t at all likely; but it’s the only } © way I can think of for him to have left the island.” He hurried back to the canoe and put out into the lake. Slowly he circled the island, closely scanning the banks, putting into every little cove or indentation of the shore, searching thoroughly. But when he got back to his starting point he had found nothing—abso- } __ITutely nothing. .s The Harvard man had vanished as quietly and com- pletely as though the earth had opened and swallowed him up. zm - CHAPTER IV. SUSPICIONS. Kor perhaps five minutes Grimshaw sat dazedly in the canoe, -his heart beating¢ irregularly. Then he turned abruptly and, heading toward the clubhouse, | plunged his paddle into the water and drove the frail |. craft down the lake with all the strength that was in him. ; “It’s got my goat,’ he muttered hoarsely. “It’s up : to me to get the fellows busy ag quick as I can do it.” landing and sprang out. He did not stop to take the canoe out of the water,gbut fastened the painter to a post and hurried up to the aie ake As he reached the veranda thd Jubers were just com- ing out from lunch. i “Hello; you seem to be in a hurry,” Dick Merriwell said pleasantly. “Haven’t seen Cleves, have you?’ ‘Grimshaw drew one hand across his moist forehead, “Yes,” he said in an odd voice, “I have.” pW bee is he?” Harcourt inquired. _ the: He broke of suddenly and eyed ‘Crass curi- ously. Bay; what’s the matter with you, Mac? ie face i is white as a sheet.” -“T think your’s would be, too, if you’d seen what I have,” Grimshaw returned. “I eee to think I’m g0- ing dotty.” “Out ‘on Your “You look pretty sane,” Merriwell laughed. “Where “was it you saw Cleves?” AiR eat 5 “Over at Mermaid Island,” the other answered ‘slowly. | “Oh, ho!” chirped Tucker, with a broad grin. ‘He's after the lovely mermaid. 4 s stolen a march on you fellows, all right.”’ : WEEKLY, \ eae In an incredibly short space of time he reached the _ paddled over to the island.” every, cove,” prising information. Presently it was mtoken by Har- court, : “Did he say when he was coming back?” Tod Evans asked. “Doesn’t he want any lunch?” “T didn’t speak to him,’ Grimshaw answered. 4 He hesitated for an instant, and then he went on: “T'll tell you fellows about it, and maybe you can make head or tail out of the thing. After I made such a beastly fool of myself this morning, I went for a tramp to cool off. I walked through the woods, but finally came out on the shore opposite the island. As I was standing there I heard the sound of a paddle, and I stepped back among the bushes. Pretty soon the canoe came in sight with Cleves aboard. He turned and headed toward the island, and after he had pad-. died slowly around 3 it, he landed on ‘the low side facing the lake.” Grimshaw paused and looked around in a rather shamefaced manner, . . “T had no business to watch. hing but I couldett tne what he was doing there; and as it parned out, it was lucky I did watch him. In. about fifteen. min- utes I saw the canoe float away from the shore, empty. It had broken loose.” : g “And left our esteemed president marooned,” put in Tucker interestedly. “What did you do?” pe “The wind carried it Neue enough for me to swim out and get it,’ Grimshaw continued. Ok oe He patised and drew his hand again over five, fore: head. “T landed,” he finished slowly; “but Cleves was’ not © there.” “Not there?” came in an incredulous chorus. ~- “No. I searched every crack and crevice. I yelled and whistled and called his name, but there wasn't a. sight nor a sound of him. He had disappeared.” > “But that’s impossible,” Dick Merriwell said slowly. Eke must/have been there unless he swam ashore— and there’d be no sense in his doing that.” \ “He might have fallen into the water,” eee Coppinger. — * 7x paddled all around the island and looked into Grimshaw explained. “Were there any pits—holes in the rocks where he might have fallen and’ been knocked .senseless ?” Dick - asked. . k a, “No; the rocks were epuah, but there weren’t any holes.” ‘There was a pause as the Jubers took in this sur- ¥ - coherent. © few minutes there was a tense silence. wheeled slowly around and faced Harcourt. “Yousay I’ve lied—that I’ve done away with’ Tif LOOP “Couldn’t you think up a better yarn than that?” he said significantly: | Grimshaw turned toward him in surprise. “What do you mean! ?” he asked, bewildered. “Just. what I say,” snapped the other, “Did you really” think we ‘d penery a cock-and-bull story like that.” : ; ‘Suddenly he lost control of himself. “What have you done to him?” he demanded fiercely, “You threatened him this morning—you said you'd ‘get even; and now you have. ‘Tell us what you've done, or J’ll choke it out of you!” He sprang at the other man with flashing eyes and clenched fists. | Dick Merriwell stepped between them. “Easy, Bill,” he said quietly. “This sort of thing won't do’any good.” A rush of crimson flooded Grimshaw’s face—his vety eyeballs were suffused with it and the veins on his forehead stood out like cords. He half crouched, _ and for an instant he seemed as though he were going to leap at Harcourt like a wild beast. . “You—you ” he rasped. The very intensity of his emotion made him in- » Dick turned and puta tid on his arm. “Steady, Mac—steady,”’ he said, in a “Don’t lose your head,” Grimshaw ground his teeth fiercely ; his hands were clenched so tightly that the knuckles showed white through the skin—his eyes wild and staring. low tone. A terrific struggle was going on within him, and for a few minutes the issue was doubtful. thing—perhaps it was Dick Merriwell’s quiet words Then some- -—turned the tide in the right direction, and he slowly ‘ regained control of himself. : ce As he did so he swiftly turned his back and for a Then he Cleves,” he said, in a strained voice. “I haven't. I _ IT solemnly swear that what I’ve told you is the truth— the whole truth.” - Harcourt ‘started to reply hotly, but Dick motioned ( him to be silent.’ - “But you must admit, Mac,” He said salatte “that the. story you tell is incredible. a man can't | vanish 7 itterly without leaving some trace.” iN: j “Don’t you suppose 1 know that?” Tielinsiasy said esperately. “How do you think I felt when I made WEEKLY. - defiantly, Looney Jim had one of his sensible spells, . he said. be rca if he wanted to.” p my ae wasn’t on that island? il ee . was crazy, but it never occurred to me that you fel- lows would lay the blame on me.”’ ae He met Dick’s glance squarely, and for an instant. — the Yale man looked searchingly into the clear eyes raised unfalteringly to his. They were not the eyes of — a liar. “We don’t all believe it,” he said reassuririgly. 1 _ Then he turned to the others. + “We'd better go over to the island and make a =| thorough search,” he proposed. ‘We may find some * 3 trace that’ Grimshaw has overlooked.” at ' ‘There was a chorus of assent and a general move- yy ment toward the landing. Grimshaw started into the i % clubhouse. . “Tl be with you in a minute;” he said. “I’m all wet and want to change some of my togs.” + We nt As he disappeared Harcourt turned to Dick. a ““T don't see how you can trust him!” he exclaimed. ; “As sure as I’m standing here, he’s responsible for ey whatever has happened to Brian. You heard him say this morning that he'd get even and you know what a beastly temper he’s got.’’ | “All the same, I believe s riwell rettirned positively; knows.” Harcourt shook his “T don’t believe it.’ “Now, look here, Bill,” Dick said firmly, “you've — got to be fal If she had really done such a thing if? stands to reason’ Grimshaw wouldn't tell such a wild — story as this to cover it up. He'd be'a fool, and Mac isn’t that. No, there's something queer at the bottom — of this—soniething that I don’t understand; but I mean to.” Harcourt was still unconvinced. hob: “IT wouldn't trust him out of my sight,” he asserted. “He's rotten to the core. How cone he re Bein ss crooked with such a father.” He caught Dick’s eye and hesitated. ae “Oh, yes, I’ve found out all about his connection’ atch that old reprobate, Scarface Hackett,” he went on ‘Tt’s generally known in St. Clair: sinc I rather telling the truth,” Mer- “or as nearly that as he a — eae stubbornly. think you’ve known it right along.” a Merriwell eyed the man steadily. ie “Tt’s a matter which I should oe not to 0 Giseuss | Gisisted: Dick smiled. Tine tor j 3 “You're wrong there, Harcourt,” he denied with |, conviction. ‘You've got the old-fashioned, long-ex- __ ploded theory that a person inherits all his bad traits and evil proclivities. It’s a very convenient way of shifting the responsibilities to our ancestors ; but it’s all bosh. A man is what he makes himself. A fellow | may inherit certain broad traits, just as Mac has in- | hérited a remarkably robust temper ; but it rests solely with him whether he will get the best of these failings or let them get thg best of him. If he lets things slide |. and takes the Iine of least resistance, the habit or tendency grows stronger with the absence of opposi- tion, and finally secures such a hold that it dominates ae completely,/and the man’s mind is warped. o pF : “You fellows all noticed, I suppose, the tremendous | struggle Mac had just now with his temper. Well, ae that’s a case in point: Every natural impulse urged a, him to let loose and fly into a frightful rage, but he eae fought hard against it and conquered. I know he de- |. serves great credit, and I will stake my reputation that | there’s nothing vicious or untruthful about him. I’ve ! had a temper of my own to contend with.” “But mightn’t he have met Cleves and struck him Coppinger asked, as they Reaenes) the landing and boarded the Jubilee. f “That would be possible,”’ Dick agreed; “but I doubt whether he would let himself go to that extent. Be- sides, you will recollect that he had plenty of time to _ cool off before pace the clubhouse. A man can’t keep at a white heat 1 out on the lake for more than an hour after Grimshaw disappeared into the woods.” Dick now turned over the engine whith he had primed, and it started instantly. A moment later Grimshaw ran down and sprang aboard. 7 The next instant the gears were meshed in and the boat glided away from the landing with Harcourt at the wheel, antl headed for Mermaid Island, towing a small rowboat. hoy ~ ‘CHAPTER V. THE MYSTERY DEEPENS, _ During the short run-to Mermaid Island there was little conversation among the occupants of the Jubilee. There seemed to be a feeling of constrainment in the air, which was not strange considering the develop- ; _ ments of the past few hours. y WEEKLY. . | II down suddenly when he was-in one of these rages?” » defmitely, and Brian did not go’ mistaking the eager, breathless interest with which every face was turned toward the island. Just what they expected to 'see there it would be hard to tell; but the story brought in by Tucker and Bigelow of a strange girl swimming among the rocks had been so quickly followed by the mysterious vanishing of Cleves that they were prepared for almost anything. They were within a few hundred feet of the cove where Grimshaw had landed, when Merriwell sud- denly shut the throttle and switched off the current. The sound of the engine ceased instantly and the boat glided along silently under what way she had. “Listen !” (Borne faintly to their straining ears by the wind was the unmistakeable sound of music. There was a strange quality—something almost ethereal—about the plaintive minor chords, as though they came from a zx great distance or were smothered by something wliich ~ intervened. Now and then they ceased as though car- ried away by the fitful gusts of wind, then they would grow suddenly clear for an instant, only to die softly away again. The strange part about it was that no two of the fellows could agree as to the direction in which it came. “Tt comes from the island, doesn’t it?” Dick ques- tioned, after a moment’s silence. ‘Seemed to me it sounded from out on the lake,” Taylor answered. “But there’s nothing in sight there.” “It’s got me guessing, gents,’ Buckhart announced. “One minute I opine I hear it up in the clouds, and then it shifts around and sure seems like it was under the boat. How about it, Bigelow?” The fat chap’s eyes were like\gaucers. He was star- ing fixedly at the water like one entranced. Tucker sniggered. ~ “He thinks it’s his mermaid,” he grinned. “Look out, Big; pretty soon she’ll poke her head out of the water and look at you with those lovely eyes of hers, — and you'll go stark crazy and jump into the water after , her. Down—down——” Bigelow. glared at him. “Don’t!” he exclaimed. “Don’t talk so; you make. my flesh creep.” gis oe < “Look out, fellows,” Tommy chirped. “When Big's flesh begins to creep we'll have to abandon the boat.” — Dick let the Jubilee drift to within fifty féet of the shore and then dropped the anchor over. ( ' Then they hauled up the small boat, and, crowding in, pulled for the narrow strip of beach between the rocks. ein NM , oe i Ee, oe Oe As they set foot on land the music ceased. ‘The next moment they were swarming all over the island; they peered into every crack and crevice, ex- bushes and up on the cliffs, until there was not a square inch of surface which had not been thoroughly gone over. Dick even took a stick and prodded the rock wherever it was covered with vines to make sure they concealed no openings or caves. But it was all in vain. Not a trace of the missing man could be found. : “Well Dick said seriously, as they as- sembled at the landing place, “this thing is getting seri- ous. and there’s no trace of him. Either Grimshaw is mistaken and he never came here at all, or he has left it by swimming or in another boat.” . “But where would he get a boat?’ Reddy Taylor asked. Dick shook his head. “T don’t know. I’m only sugg “And why on earth would he swim ashore?” Evans. | “It’s barely possible that he saw the canoe drift away and did not wait to see Grimshaw recover a Dick explained. ‘He could have left the island < another point,,and by the time he got to shore Ra They would fellows,” Brian isn’t here, | esting possibilities.” queried would probably have reached the islayid. thus miss each other, and Cleves w ould probably start at once to walk back to the clubhouse. He wouldn’t _ have time to reach there before we set out.” "You're forgetting another possibility, Merriwell,” Bill Harcourt sneered. ‘His body may be floating somewhere about the lake, or lying in the woods.” Grimshaw clenched his teeth and, with flushed face, turned an@ walked quietly away. - *T have not forgotten it, Harcourt,” Dick said coldly; “but I don’t see the need of considering it until the other possibilities fail. Nor do I think it already suffering acutely" under the accusation you have made—in my opinion—quite unjustly.” A Harcourt flushed and started to reply; then he shut his: lips firmly and turned away, acomliesy “I, suggest,’ ’ Merriwell went on, “that we go back to the club and see if he has turned up. If he age t, we: can return here and Idok about some more.’ | The others agreed. As they were stepping into the _ boat Grimshaw came up to Dick. , | “Tm going to stay here, Merriwell,” he said aatee y. — plored the little grove of trees, tramped through the’ particularly manly deliberately to taunt a man who is pasts cian turn up while ad re gene ee like WEEKLY. to have some one stay with me. The fellows don’t ” seem to trust me, you know He hesitated and shot an appealing hart, who stood by the bow of the boat waiting to shove off. . glance at Buck-. | gicia te “Count me in on that, bucko,” the Texan said promptly. ‘The Unbranded Maverick of the Pecos will keep watch with you, and if any mermaids or other maids come snooping around, I opine we can manage to rope ’em and hold ’em dogyn till the crowd gets back.” “That's a good idea, sprang into the boat. fellows,’ Dick said as he “Perhaps you'll discover the secret of the island.” ; ee mae “You know us, pard,” the Westerner grinned. “If Y va there’s anything to discover we'll root it out.” a He gave the boat a shove which sent it dancing out ee from shore. The Jubilee was reached in a moment, — and they tumbled aboard and were off. The two men on the beach watched the motor hoat until it vanished around a point of land, and then Buckhart turned to his companion. ! ( “This sure is a perplexing business,” he said, with Cleves ran into this mer- maid person and she took him down to where she. — hangs out at the bottom of the lake. I can’t figure it out noways else.” oe a grin. ‘‘Looks some like Sémehow the mere personality — of the big, bluff, true-hearted Texan eee a soothing © effect. ; ve “That would be one solitons wouldn’t it?” he re- turned. “Well, I don’t suppose there’s any use in stay- es ‘ing here.” : ve “I reckon not,” Brad agreed. “We might as. well hike back to the middle of this place and make ouch z selves comfortable. Then we can keep an eye on the | rocks and be sure they stay nailed area I opine the outfit will be gone half an hour or so.’ | They walked back to the centre of the island and settled down in a sunny corner against some rocks, Brad stretched himself out at full length, but ae shaw ; sat erect in nervous eagerness. For a time they talked in a desultory manner, ie Texan soe making an effort to get the other’ Grimshaw smiled. story a a buditoe aoe and a greenhorn punch r, when suddenly he stopped. ue “What's that?” , ae ~ In the silence which followed they heard a ist 1 splash—then pet Then he sprang lightly to his fee “Quick! Over this way!’’\ he said, catching Grim- 4 shaw’s arm. “Softly, now; don’t let them hear us.” _ With swift, silent steps, they reached a little screen of bushes which grew at the edge of that side of the island, and parting them cautiously, peered through. _ Then the Texan drew a long, hissing breath, |. + “By the great horn spoon!” he exclaimed in sup- |. pressed excitement. “A girl!” ‘ + . Grimshaw made no reply. His eyes, wide with sur- 1 prise, were fixed intently on the unexpected sight be- aes fore them. ‘z About three hundred feet from the island was a light _skiff in which sat a young girl. She was bareheaded, ¥ ’ with sleeves rolled to the elbow, and handled the oars “4. with the skill of long practice. ete was too great to distinguish her features, there was something very attractive in the poise of her small head and the glints of gold the sun brought out in her wayy brown hair. She was heading for a wooded te tka half a mile away and seemed to be in haste, for every now and then she turned impatiently and looked over her shoulder. Presently she rounded the point and dis- appeared on the other side, leaying the watchers to ar each other in puzzled amazement. “Now, what do you think of that?’ Buckhart ex- claimed. “She's Tucker’s mermaid, I judge,” Grimshaw was thinking rapidly; here was a new and rather interesting complication. _ Where did the boat come from, I wonder ?” _ presently. : é - “Farther up the jake, I reckon,” Brad returned. “Funny: thing we didn’t hear it sooner.” Grimshaw hesitated. _ “Tt couldn’t, have come from the island, could it?” Le asked doubtfully, a ' T don’t see how—noways,” the Texan answered. “This here bit of rock has béen plumb raked over with a ee comb; I don’t reckon a boat would escape notice.” / pad Grimshaw relapsed into meditative silence. Was it possible that the girl could know anything about Cleves’ disappearance? Her presence near the island’ was Significant, at least, and the clue was worth follow- ing up. _ Cleves might have left the island in that very Reet" bist Beane He was roused by the pop-pop of the Jubilee, and serambling. to his feet, he followed Brad down to the landing place. een. ss motor boat appeared in sight ap- he said Though the distance ¥ TIP et OP WEEKLY, _a little to back her off. dubs are slow. but there was nothing to be ‘seen of either boat or | “ing on foot. {3 proaching at full speed. As she came closer Grim- shaw scanned the faces of her occupants eagerly, Then his heart sank. Cleves was not among them. Dick called as they came within You fellows “Nothing doing,” earshot. “‘He hasn’t. been at the club. seen anything?” “Only one mermaid,” Brad grinned. “T hope you caught her,’ Dick smiled. : “Nope. She went by in a boat, and, not having a flying machine or anything that would float, we had to grin and let her go.” The boat was drifting rather close to the rocks, and Dick shoved on the reverse and opened the throttle Then he straightened up again. “Stop your joshing, Brad,’ he admonished. “That’s straight goods, pard,’ the big fellow said fervently. “She was a good-looking young woman, too.” Merriwell was instantly interested. “Where'd she go?’’ he asked quickly. “Around the point yonder,’ Brad answered. “Tf she’s not Tucker’s mermaid, I’ll eat my hat. You hear me shout!” | “Did she have brown hair?” Tommy asked eagerly. “She sure did, little one,’ the Texan drawled. “Crinkly brown hair, and the loveliest pair of Fs “Gray eyes,’ Tucker supplemented excitedly. “That’s her! Isn’t that just my rotten luck! You lf I'd been here she'd never have got- ten away; she couldn’t have withstood my charms, One look would have sent her flying to my arms and ; . “Choke off the hot air, Tucker, and row in for at and Mac,’ Dick interrupted. “We'll investigate this mysterious lady.” As soon as Tucker had brought the two fellows out in the rowboat, the Jubilee was headed fom the point. As she rounded it, all hands scanned the shore eagerly, _ occupant, They went on far a couple of miles until it becaine certain that the girl must have landed somewhere along — the shore; but there were so many coves and inlets that _it would be impossible to find the boat without search- Dick stopped the engine and let the anchor slip over. - “Now, fellows, go softly,’ he admonished, as they — crowded into the small boat. “Evidently this. lady has some reason to shun publicity, and if we want to in- terview her we'll have to take her by surprise, So. don’t make any more noise than you can help,” i y - 14 . 4 They landed quietly on the beach, and, having pulled the boat up, scattered up and down the shore. Dick, with Brad and Grimshaw, hurried down the beach peering into the bushes intently. They had gone _. about half a mile when Dick stopped suddenly. Se “There!” he whispered. “Listen!” In the silence which followed the sound of a voice came indistinctly from hates the trees a little to the right. Slipping swiftly and noiselessly through the trees, Dick paused about thirty feet farther on. As he did _ 80, he heard a harsh voice say, quite distinctly : ‘What's the matter? Where are you? Is anything wrong?” It, came from a little glade just ahead, and, with a “ spring ‘like a cat, he thrust the bushes aside and Sprang into the open. § Then he stopped short in amazement. no one there—the glade was empty. There was 4 CHAPTER VI. THE STRANGE MACHINE. Buckhart and Grimshaw crashed ee the bushes at his heels, “Did you get her?” the Texan cried, as he reached the open. ‘ Then he stopped, his,eyes wide with surprise. In the centre of the glade stood a most peculiar-looking in- strument, or apparatus, which Dick Merriwell was examining closely. It consisted of'a collapsible real tripod very like that used with a camera, on top. of which was a cir- cular, wooden shelf som eighteen inches in diameter. Arranged about this shelf were half a dozen huge dry- _cell batteries, from which wires ran upward to a great metal disk or reflector which was attached to the tripod by a thick metal rod some five feet long. This. reflector was. about two feet in diameter, ~ dred metal. Hanging loosely from it by two insulated , wires was a*much smaller circular object made of ‘polished wood and hard rubber, while attached to the back of the reflector a thin copper rod came down to the ghell, bent back in an ell, and terminated in a slot which looked as though. there ought to be some- _ thing to fit into it. “Well, what in thunder is that eo * Buckhart inquired. ‘Looks to me like an ‘infernal- “slightly concave, and looked ‘like nickle or some kin-— ‘He: was arn: ae a peculiar, rasping ea ye ( LLP TOP: WEEKLY: “What's the matter? Why don’t you answer?” Dick straightened up with a start and looked around. “Did you speak, Brad?’’ he asked. “T sure didn’t, pard,”’ the Texan answered, with a bewildered look on his face. “I thought it was you.” “Well, it wasn’t,” Merriwell returned. Files ig ‘Answer me, I tell you!” snapped thé voice angrily. pe Dick jumped away from the machine, near which A he had been standing with his ear close to the odd cir- cular object which dangled from the reflector. _ The voice had come out of that curiously made thing - of wood and rubber! se The next moment he laughed. “That certainly gave me a start,’’ he said, smiling. Then he turned and eyed the machine with a new interest. “Why, it's some kind of a telephone,” he said Bh eagerly. “The voice came out of this queer-looking a thing—that must be the transmitter. Give me a hand, — é fellows, and we'll lift it up. The wires must be un- ae derground.” : ! Buckhart and Grimshaw came forward and each took a leg of, the tripod and lifted, but they might as well have spared themsel; s the effort, for one man could have handled it with ease. , Considering its size, the machine was amazingly light. — as As they lifted, Dick dropped down on the ground ‘f and felt under the legs of the tripod. or aN 399 cedure a he rose slowly to his feet with a bewildered expression on his face. afb “There are no wires, ” he said slowly. miscltief does it work.” A \ Then his eyes brightened. Sone “Perhaps ‘there are metal contacts sunk: in the ground,” he exclaimed. ‘Lift it a little to one a That's it. I think that will put it out of business.” — “Are you-there? Are you there?’’ rasped the harsh i voice suddenly. “Why don’t you answer?” Grimshaw’ s jaw dropped and he stood a picture of bewildered amazement. bs “Suffering Moses!” the Texan exploded. “The fia thing’s uncanny! How the mischief does it work, | Dick?” | ers Merriwell shook his head; there was a puzzled wrin- kle in his forehead. he “It’s got me,” he saeuieed “No wires and no_ contacts. And yet it can’t be a Wireless eo rey, haven't been invented.” - “How the among which could be distinguished Tomy. Tupkes voice, shrill with excitement. : Vite TOP “There shé goes! Where he shrieked. Dick—oh, Dick! “There she goes!’ Get a boat st after her! are you?” As Merriwell burst out of the bushes on the shore, he éaw, already well away from land, a small boat whose sole occupant bent to her oars in desperate haste. a | It was the girl they had been seeking, and, with an instant’s hesitation, Dick turned down the beach and raced for the boat in which they had landed from the Jubilee. It was at least a quarter of a mile away, kind by the time he had tumbled into it and unshipped the oars, the fair unknown had covered more than half the dis- tance to the island, toward which she had headed from fg the first. ; - dig: Dick did not attempt to start the motor boat—it af |. would take too long—but bent to his oars and sent 9 the small boat fairly flying through the water. The girl rowed well, with a moderate, strong stroke, making the most of her strength, and seemed to keep her head well. Only once did she look back, and as Dick—happening to turn his head at ,the same mo- “ment—caught a glimpse of her strained, white face, his heart smote him. _ “It's a shame to frighten her this way,” he mur- -mured. es I must find out if she knows anything ‘about Cleves.’ | | | Swiftly the distance between the. two boats de- creased. The girl was heading straight for the, chan- coh nel between the island and mainland, and, as she reached the nearest point of the former, she had barely : a hundred yards lead. ‘ _. Then she turned the corner of the island and dis- i popeated. mt “UT be upto her in about three minutes, ” Dick mut- tered as he-strained at the oars, “She can’t go far.” _ The next moment he, too, turned the corner, te ta vaNished. ..° “Must -have ducked around the tala himself. “That won’t help her a bit.” _ He rowed swiftly | past the high cliff to the « orher side, - — dently quite ignoring his captive. “By Jove!” murmured Cleves ting serious. really means to keep me locked up here indefinitely oP It was a most unpleasant idea. The old man was © evidently extremely erratic, if not actually a little — mad; and once he had conceived the idea that the | Harvard man was a spy, it would be almost impossible to convince him to the contrary. . } “But, pshaw!” muttered Brian. “When I fail Ss - turn up the fellows will scour the lake for me, and in ‘the course of time we be sure to land on the island | and find the canoe,’ Then his heart suddenly dere: as he remembeted the wonderfully contrived door through which | he had entered. Once that was closed, he felt sure the opening would be hiddden from the closest scrutiny. But, in spite of everything, he seemed to be i resigned as he felt for a match with which to inves gate his cell. , . “She's certainly got sa attractive eyes,’ mured. . From which it ote. appear that sometimes e en prison bars have their compenaelions ny “This thing is get- he | mur CHAPTER IX A, PRISONER, | As the hours passed Cleves began to erie reat He also felt the pangs of hunger, for he was posse with a thoroughly healthy appetite, and. the aoa lunch, time had long’ passed. Mu Still peas Stanley sat absorbed in bee Undoubt- — Can it be possible that the old fossil ab EO LOR WEERBEY, *; 2i tions, apparently quite oblivious of the presence of ‘his captive, or the possibility that the latter might re- quire food. “Great Scott!” groaned the Harvard man. der if he’s going to starve me as well locked up here.” “T won- as keep me At last the door opened and Miss Stanley entered. “Lunch is ready, father,” “Al right,” ing up. she said quietly. mumbled the professor, without look- “I'll be there in a minute,” It. was, however, a good ten before he got up, and followed his daughter out of the room, leaving Cleves highly elated at the nod and little smile she gave him before the door closed behind them. “ce he murmured joyfully; “at I hope she won't be long, for ’'m ~ “That means lunch,” — least, I think it does. ~ almost starved.” Tn less than five minutes she slipped back into the -rooin carrying a plate and a small bottle, “It’s only sandwiches,” she apologized as shé came up to the grating. “That’s all I could think of that _ would go through the bars; and the coffee is in the bottle.” _. “That’s. splendid,” Cleves answered. gratefully, “You're very good to: trouble this way—and I am hungry." 3 NEST hope you didn’t think I'd let you art Se “Well, no, i teal didn’ t think that,” ance. a She hesitated a moment, the plate in her hand. a ae “(ll have to pass them through one at a time,” PS esid: “T hope you don’t mind.” ‘ she said. was his assur- she He relieved her mind on that score with some em- phasis, and then, as their fingers met through the iron | bars, a little thrill went through him. For an instant a her eyes met his, and, as she turned her head away a faint color came into her cheeks. “I’m sorry this has happened,” _ in a low tone. “Father’s very peculiar about his ex- ‘periments. Several times men have tried to steal in- formation from him, so that now he suspects every one. ete I could only get the key I'd let you out myself.” she began hurriedly “Tf you could see any of my friends at the’ club- dice? Cleves suggestes d, “and tell them where I am, and | let them in She took a quick step away from the bars. “Oh, I couldn’t dO that!” she said, alarmed. her would never forgive me—he’s tried so hard keep this place a secret, I think it will be all right oon. _ He'll see that, you're not a spy and let you go. ‘surprise. himself, but it will be very uncomfortable for you, He might even keep you here all night.” “Really, Miss Stanley, I won’t mind that at all,” Cleves smiled, “I hope you won't worry about it. So long as I’m not starved I don’t care what happens.” At that moment the professor suddenly entered the room, “Come there, Elinor—at. once!’ he snapped, glaring at her from under his bushy eye- brows. “What are you doing—feeding him?” “Of course I am, away. from ” she answered quickly, “Waste of good food—on spies,” he muttered, with a venomous glance at Cleves. “It’s time for you to go out with the Come over here while I talk to you,” They retreated to the other end of the room, and for some minutes a whispered conversation went on between them. “Allright, father; I understand,” she said. cheerily, as they came back to the window. “Over beyond the - point to-day.” He nodded sourly and lifted a strange conglomera- tion of wires and metal from the corner. The girl picked up some small batteries from the floor, and they both disappeared through a door in the far corner of the room, which up to this time Cleves had not seen opened. The Harvard man was ‘intensely curious as to the meaning of all this, but could not seem to arrive at a solution of the mystery, and presently, being tired of | standing so long, he made himself as comfortable as ~ he could on the floor with his back against the door. Then he must have dozed off. He was awakened by the sound of voices, and, sit- ting up, he listened. intently. The professor seemed to be talking to some one. “There, that’s beter. came mi his harsh bass. you hear me now.’ “Splendidly,” was the reply. f It sounded as though it came en a long ways off, “Can but was perfectly distinct. “Why, that’s Elinor’s voice!’ Cleves jactntehindte 1 De- ; a Already he was thinking of her as Elinor. cidedly there were compensations. - Rising quietly to his feet, he peered through the grating. The professor was alone in the room, stand ing in front of the strange machine by the window. For a moment Cleves thought that he was carrying on. a conve tigation with-his daughter through the opqnin, : in the rock; but a second anes entioe that he. was Tie ie talking into one of the curious things of wood and rub- ber which dangled from the machine by a wire. “Where have you set it up?” he rumbled. Again came the voice of Elinor Stanley, clear and distinct. To Brian Cleves’ astonishment it seemed to issue from the machine. “Tn the woods a little WAY back from the beach, be- yond the wooded point.” “Why, it’s.a telephone!’ the Harvard man tur- mured interestedly. “IT wonder how they get their wires to the mainland.” “How far back from the beach?’’-asked the pro- plot ; “About a hundred feet.” mi. “Are there many trees between you and the water?” “Yes, a thin growth.” “Are the wires connected He broke off abruptly, for out of the receiver of the instrument came a sudden frightened gasp. “O-h! Some one’s coming! I . Then there was silence. ‘What's the matter? Where are you? Is anything wropg?” called the professor irito the machine. There was no answer. The professor started away from the window and looked anxiously about the room. Then he pushed away the screen of vines and peered out. At last he came back to the machitie and took up the transmitter. | “What's the matter?” he called. “Why don’t you answer?” . "There was no reply. ‘Answer, I tell you!” he cried. Still the aastrunient was dumb. The professor swiftly went over the different parts and connections y/ with trembling fingers. Then he straightened up again. 3 “Tt’s all right,” ‘he muttered; ‘ wrong with it. Every part in place. ‘the matter? Why doesn’t she answer?” ‘all right. Nothing What can be He ran his hands through his thick hair and began to pace up and down the room, muttering to himself. His eyes were wild and staring, and now’ and then he waved his hands frantically in the BIE BH Guy > He looked like a man bereft of his senses, and in- stinctively Brian drew back from the grating. He did not wish to add fuel to the flames by reminding ‘the _ oldman of his presence there. The next moment the professor stepped up to the maghine again, and, earn his throat, Pi up the transmitter. | om WEEKLY. “Are you there?” he called loudly. “Are you there? Why don’t you answer?” The instrument gave forth no sound, and, dropping the transmitter with a‘ despairing gesture, the pro- fessor resumed his pacing. \ “She said some one was coming,” he muttered. “Can she have run away? She couldn’t have left it there—she wouldn't do that! Heavens above! If any- thing should happen to it, I would go mad.” : “You're about as near that already as any one I’ve ever seen out of a bughouse,” Cleves murmured. “You seem to think more about your precious junk than you do of your daughter.’ ‘ For a time the other tramped back and forth in silence, wringing his hands and muttering incoherently. = Then he burst out again: “The work of a lifetime! it—find it and take it to Latham hate him! It would kill me.” Suddenly he stopped and listened. | “Oars! he gasped. “She’s coming back!’ If some one should find ‘Bah! How T Me darted to fhe window and peered through the | a vines.. The next instant he reached over and closed the wooden shutter with trembling fingers. Then he stood, back against it, his hands es tightly over his breast. ; ‘‘Another boat,” he whispered iiaaeety: her! What does it mean? pened ?” He did not.stir from the window, but stood ‘there as though he had suddenly been deprived of the power — of motion. His eyes were riveted on the door in the | corner, and Cleves, thrilled with the excitement of — the moment, instinctively followed) the direction of his glance. : In a moment it opened: and the girl stood on the threshold. She was hatless and her. arms were bare. Her hair had blown around her pale face in disorder; her breath came in gasps. For an instant the stillness was intense. old man took a step forward. “Well?” he rasped. “A lot of men—came—after me, “I had to run away——” ~The man’s eyes seemed fairly to flash fire. “You ra away!’ His yoice rose to a harsh croak. “You ran away and left it histo! ps cae His daughter nodded slowly. “T had to,” she said simply. “It was too heavy he: take. I was almost caught as it was.’ What—can—have—hap- Tienie ” the girl faltered. I CHAPTER X. / AT THE MERCY OF A MADMAN. The professor started forward wildly, me “go! instant Cleves thought he was going to strike the gi With set teeth the Harvard man strove oo at the bars to tear a aside, but to no avail. ‘pupae ag ‘Are you there? , and, dropping ssture, the pro- he muttered. In’t have left it s above! If any- aad.” > as any one I’ve urmured. “You s junk than you *k and forth in ing incoherently. one should find ‘Bah! How I back !’’ red through the over and closed igers. Then he ped tightly over rsely; “pursuing -an—have—hap- but stood there red of the power 1 the door in the e excitement of > direction of his ‘irl stood on the arms were bare. face in disorder ; tense. the girl faltered. ash fire. to a harsh croak. | was too heavy to DMAN. ildly, and for” an to strike the girl. trove desperately — no avail. steal your invention. -toshow them this place. Then the friends of yours?” she asked; “ Tie 4 Then he sai “Left it there!” time—gone!”’ The girl came over to him and put 1 shoulder “But it isn’t gone,” she said reassuringly. “I can get it again. They weren’t the kind of men that would I think they were friends of—of —Mr. Cleves—looking for him.” She paused and darted a glance at Brian. “They won’t know what it is,” she went on. see, I brought the transmitter away with me?” She laid a small object on the table in front of him, and at the sight the cretion seemed to brighten a lit- the old man sink helplessly into a chair. he moaned. “The work of a life- 1er hand on his “Vou tle. “They came through the woods so softly that I had barely time to get away myself. If I had stopped for the instrument they would have caught me ee then have seen the whole thing. Very likely I’d have had One of them came after me in a boat, and it was all I could do to get to the rock in time.” She looked at Cleves again with a little frown, and then turned quickly back as her father gave a groan. “The ose ofa Rete eget he muttered. “Now, father, don’t be silly,” she said briskly. “It isn’t gone, I don’t even know whether they- found it, and when they’ve left I’ll go back and see. But even if they’ve taken it away, you can make another one.” “Of course I can,” he said pettishly. “But what good will that do me if Latham get’s hold of this one and sees the principle. [Il be ruined.” He stood up and passed his hand wearily a forehead. “I’m going to lie down for a few moments,” he said, as he started across the room. ‘This has upset me so that I must have a little rest.” The girl went with him, but returned in a few min- ‘antes: “I’m sorry you were frightened by the fellows,” Cleves said, as she reappeared. “They must have been hunting for me; but I don’t see why they imagined you knew anything about me.’ smiling. Perhaps “T wasn’t very frightened,” she returned, “And, anyhow, | heat the one in the boat. _ they saw me coming away from the island and guessed that I had seen you.” ‘She paused and then looked up quickly. “Were those two men in the canoe this morning a stout one and a little Cleves laughed. | “Yes; you had them guessing. They thought you vere a mermaid. They said you dived and néver came 9 Elinor Stanley laughed merrily. “I don’t blame them,” she said. “You see, we have passage that runs down through the rock and comes ut behind the vines on a level with the water, [rom inte tras WEEKLY, the outside you can’t see it at all, and I keep my boat there. Every morning I go down there for a,swim You have no idea how they startled me this morning.’ She smiled a little at the recollection. “T was sitting on a rock half under water,” she went on, “when I heard a noise and looked around. There was the canoe, quite close to me, and I dived like a shot. Of course I swam under water straight for the passage antl came up under the vines. You never saw anything so funny as their faces in your life—espe- cially the fat one’s. He watched the water, his eyes like saucers and his mouth wide open.. I think he was afraid of me.” “That's B I really mermaid.’ . “After they started away I couldn’t hold in’ any longer,” the girl continued. “I just had to laugh. And then, for a joke, I dived out again and thrust one arm out of the water. That finished them; they simply made the canoe fly down the. lake.” ; eeN7 sigelow,”’ Cleves laughed, “He was'‘afraid. believe he thought you were a sure-enough Cleves smiled. the story that You certainly had them guessing,” “They came back to the clubhouse with they had seen a mermaid in the water.” He paused a moment, and then went on: “To tell the truth, that’s what brought me to the island; but I couldn’t tell your father. that—it would have sounded too foolish.” The laughter died out of her eyes. “T wish you had,” she said seriously, “though per- haps it wouldn’t have made any difference. I'm so sorry he’s upset. I think I'll go back and see if I can't find the instrument. They will be gone by this time.’ She slipped in to look at her father, and, when she came back, reported that he was asleep. Then she went over to the door in the corner. “T won’t be gone twenty minutes,” she said. “If he wakes up » before I come back, tell him where I am.” Cleves agreed, and she opened the door and disap- - peared. She was gone rather longer than that, and she had scarcely reappeared before her father opened the door | and ste] yes into the room. He looked worn and hag- | gard a there were dark circles under his eyes. “Have you been to look for it?” he asked, “Did you find it?” She shook her head. “Tt wasn’t there. They must have taken it away.” The professor's eyes glared. “Curse them!” he snarled. “A lot of thieves! It - will be in Latham’s hands in a week.” Elinor Stanley frowned a little. “I don’t think so,’ she said firmly. “They aren't that sort at all. I believe they took it out of curiosity.” “What do you know about it, girl?’ the man snapped. “These days children seem to know more than their fathers.” : “T'll tell you this much,” she sale calmly, “I think if you let Mr. Cleves go he'll promise to return — cor ; | LP, FOP ™ 24 * the instrument asysoon as he can get it from his Shi: house.” “Of course I will,” Cleves said quickly. “The fel- lows probably took it out of curiosity.” He could not have made a more unwise remark. At the sound of his voice Professor Stanley gave a slight start and turned slowly around. It was as though he had quite forgotten the presence of the Har- vard man. But. as his eyes fell on the latter’s face at the grating, they lit up with a demoniacal fury. He gave no heed when, seemingly moved by a draught, the shutter in front of the window swung open. “Ah!” he exclaimed. ‘‘Just out of curiosity. Pre- cisely. One thing Latham is most anxious to do—see what it is made of.” He lifted his hand to his throat as thodgh his collar was too tight. “The moment i let you g go,” he went on, in a tone of suppressed rage, “you'll hurry back and show them all about it. What a fool I’d be!” Then the professor seemed to lose control of him- self. ? / “Tt know what you came for!” he frouhied, “You want to steal my secret—they all do. You're a spy!” The girl stepped forward to close the shutter. “Tm nothing of the sort,’ Cleves retorted angrily. “T came here by ¢ accident. I demand that you unlock this door.” The shutter was slammed to eat bolted. . “Neyer!” The older man’s voice rose to a shrill scream. ‘You may rot there first!” “Father, what are you saying! ” the girl cried, horrified tones. ‘You mustn’t talk that way. eas re exciting ‘yourself too much. Come in and lie down is while I get supper.” ' With some difficulty she managed to persuade him _ to leave the room, and Cleves was left alone. _ It was nearly an hour before she returned carrying a plate. As she came up to the grating, Cleves saw that her face was pale and her eyes troubled. “He’s dreadfully upset about losing the instrument,” she said as she passed the food through the bars. “I never saw him behave so before. I finally persuaded him to lie down, and I think he'll stay there all night. 7 Ididn’t dare speak to him about you again. I’m afraid you'll be very uncomfortable. But I’m sure he'll come to himself in the morning and let you out!” “Please don’t worry about me at all,’ Cleves said cheerfully. “TI shall be all right.” “T wish I could get a rug or something through the _ bars,” she said regretfully, “but the. space is too nar- ' row.’ Fase he hesitated for an instant sc then stepped over to the light and switched it off. . \ “Good night.” _ Her voice came softly through the darkness. “Good night,” Cleves answered. Then the door closed and he was left alone. For 2 long time he stood there lost in thought; then he ors down and tried to find a comfortable spot on mI? oo ber to dream of a sweet face with a pair of troubled WEEKLY. ' f the floor. This was a difficult matter, for the boards were very hard; but at last he fell into an uneasy slum-_ wey eyes, crowned by a mass of wavy chestnut hair. \ He was awakened by the sound of some one moving about the room, and, rising softly to his feet, he looked | through the grating. A cool breeze reached him,,. for the window in the rock was open. It was the professor tramping ceaselessly back and , forth. His hair was rumpled and his clothes mussed and wrinkled as though he had slept in them: As he walked he waved his. arms aimlessly about and teen up a constant, incoherent mutterihg. Suddenly Cleves’ heart leaped. He had caught a glimpse of the man’s eyes and they were wild—glar- Bs ing, without a particle of reason—the eyes of a maniac. He drew quickly back into the shadow, but it was too” ; late; the professor had seen him. QS eka wf fs s 4 The old man stopped suddenly, and then came slow ly. = toward the door, a look of sly cunning on his facé> =. “Ah,” he muttered, ‘Spies! Where are you, spy?” | : He peered through the bars, but Cleves had retreated : ; cere to the extreme limit of the little closet, and — ee stood with his back against the wall, his heart teen P rapidly. , rt et “I don’t see tific) * mumbled the old man presently... x “But he’s there. He can’t escape.’ a His mood changed in the twinkling of an eye. .: Fs “Spies!” he shrieked wildly,-shaking his clenched | ~ fists in the air. “They come to steal my brains away!” : Suddenly the door opened and Elinor Stanley came a . into the room. “Father, what is the matter?” she asked anxiously. “Why are you shouting so?” The professor turned fiercely on her. — “Another spy!” he frothed. ‘The place is full of them!” The girl shrank back against the door, a look of hor- ror in her eyes. ae “Merciful heavens!” she breathed, her face w ties as: 5 chalk. “What—shall—I do?” ve A wave of deathly, faintness came over her as she realized the awful truh—her father was quite mad. Then with an effort she Tecov ered herself. oe ~“T must get some one,” she whispered; “I must get help—quickly.” She turned, and, slipping through the door, was: gone. re. Her departure seemed to quiet the professor a: little. “One gone,” he mumbled. We want no spies here. Root ’em outs rats! Ee ’ There was something ‘idesctitiably horrible in | the way he snarled out the last w ord, and from his ee a a . - “But there’s ae left. ‘All Rts! as he turned his ead slow iy toward the grating. _ “Like rats!” he repeated, as he moved swiftly ward the Dg table. / . Is : The instant his back was turned, Cleves sprang to 4 } the grating and watched him. He saw him open a _ drawer and claw over the contents as though in search a of something—heard him give a gleeful chuckle as he § found that something and, pulling it out, fondle it for d } amoment. tT | — Then his blood turned cold as he saw that the maniac : held in his hand a glittering revolver. c woe d S Y Le i ‘ot CHAPTER XI. a JUST IN. Dime. | a, “Pretty boy!’ muttered the old man, with a hor- o | tible, mirthless cackle. ‘Good for rats.’ - Then he reached forward and pulled a box of | cartridges out of the drawer. y 4 With horrified fascination Cleves watched him load i ee the revolver. Brian had the helpless feeling of a rat oe ‘ina trap, and even in the{face of such deadly peril he a _ found himself thinking that the madman had voiced a ae Eecutiarly apt simile, By _ He feared that it was all up with him now. He ee knew that Elinor had gone for help, but there wasn’t a ve | F chance in a hundred that she would find any one this side of the ¢lubhouse; and by the time they could get ae back the professor could use the whole box of car- % _tridges. No matter how poor a shot he might be, one a bullet, at least, would surely hit the mark in this con- fined space. _ As the maniac turned, revolver in band and stealth- _ ily approached the grating, Cleves dropped down on _ the floor and squeezed himself close against the door. It was his gnly chance, for he felt that the first shots would be fired ‘Straight through the bars, “Now, rat,” mumbled the old man, you.” He peered through the grating. “Hiding in the dark,” he muttered; “but you can’t escape. Take that!” _ He poked the barrel of the gun through the bars and uled the trigger. _ There was a crash, a spurt of flame, and the bullet struck with a thud against the wall beyond. . - _ The professor listened intently, his head on one side. “I didn’t hear him fall,” he w nee hoarsely. “I must have missed.” — x _ He stuck the barrel through oo turning it a little o one side this time, and‘ pulled the trigger once more. The crash of the shot drowned the creaking of the door in'the corner as it was thrown suddenly open, nd the man was so occupied i in his work that he did “we'll settle closely by Dick Merriwell. i: The instant he saw what was going on, Dick seized he girl, and, thrusting her back into the passage, closed door. Then he stepped quickly behind a cabinet. » e sound seemed to startle the old man, and he 10t see his daughter rush into the room, followed | LIP: TOP WEEKLY. « 25 whirled around suspiciously. There was no one in ‘sight. “T thought -I heard a noise,” he muttered. “But it was only my fancy. Now, rat, another little bullet in your ribs.” He turned to the bars and raised the revolver. The next instant a form shot out from behind the cabinet, and, with a spring like a panther, reached his side and tore the weapon from him. With a swing of his arm, Dick hurled it through the window. As he did so the door was flung open and Buckhart rushed into the room. The madman seemed possessed with superhuman strength. He writhed and twisted in Merriwell’s iron grip, shrieking at the top of his voice, and clawing wildly with his skinny fingers. In spite of his great strength, Dick had difficulty in holding him; but Brad came quickly to his assistance, and together they car- ried him over to a couch and pinned him down. Here he continued to struggle and kick and scratch, all the time raving incoherently at the top of his vaice. “Can you hold him alone for a minute?” Dick asked . presently. : “T allow I can,” Brad returned calmly. right slippery old eel, though.” Merriwell let go his hold and sprang to the grating. “Cleves,” he called anxiously ; “Cleves, old man, are you hurt?” = “No,” came back in a muffled voice.’ Then the. pale, drawn face of the Harvard man ap- | peared at the opening. “Might as well shoot a man as scare him to death,” he said, with a ghost of a smile. “You came just in time, old fellow ; he was getting my range pretty close. That last one struck within a foot of me.’ ‘A look of relief came into Dick’s face. “When I heard those shots I was terribly afraid you were done for,” he said. ““Where’s the key ry “In the old fellow’s pocket, I reckon,” Cleves an- swered. Merriwell went back to the couch and managed to locate the key in the professor’s trousers pocket. The latter seemed to be exhausted by his frenzy and lay quiet, moaning faintly now and then. His daughter had come into the room and was trying to soothe him. As Dick unlocked the door and opened it Cleves © stepped out with a gasp of relief. ‘“‘No more prison cells for me,” he said, in tones of devout thankfulness. “For a while I thought I'd be carried out feet first. My hair hasn’t turned white, | hope.” + | | . Dick smiled. “Not so you'd notice it.” “Must be pretty strong hair, then,” mured. — Then he caught sight of the girl standing by the moaning man, and his face grew serious. és “It’s beastly hard for her,” he whispered. “What in the world shall we do w Ae anna We can’t leave” him here,” =. \ “Hes 4 Cleves mur=— 26 Dick shook his head decidedly “Of course not; he'll have to be put in an asylum. We'll have to take him over to the clubhouse in a boat '* and then get him out of the woods to St. Clair in my . car.” “I suppose I’d better talk to Eli—er—Miss Stanley about it,’ Cleves faltered. “Ves; the sooner we start the better,” Dick returned. “He'll be easy to. manage now. He seems to be all a i Miss Stanley agreed at once to the plan when Cleves broached it to her. She fully realized the condition of her father and the impossibility of his staying in that lonely place, and she was very grateful to them all for what they proposed doing. “You're very good to do all this,” she said, looking up at Cleves through eyes dimmed by tears. “There’s no one else to w hom I could turn. All my friends are in the East.” Her lips trembled a ‘little, but.she kept herself well in hand. “We're not especially good at all,” the Harvard ‘man answered quickly. “It’s very little to do for you. We'll take some rugs and blankets and spread them in the ‘boat so he’ll be comfortable, and then I think we had better start at once.’ _ ingly in a sort of coma. Dick decided that one man was enough to watch him, so Cleves stayed in the room while Merriwell and Buckhart carried the things down to the boat. The girl went in to her room hurriedly to pack up a few necessary things. i Cleves stood by the table absently looking at a draw- “inghe had picked1p when suddenly, absolutely with- out a warning, the professor leaped from the couch and _rushed past him. Fi | He flew over to the strange machine by the window and stood beside it, his eyes rolling eon and his fin- gers twitching, “Spies!” he screamed, shaking a fist st Briag; “All spies—thousands of them!” Cleves took a step toward him. _ “We're not spies, professor,” he said soothingly. “Come back and lie down a little longer.” tee tee Dy away !” frothed the deranged man. come near me!” — : . Miss Stanley ran into the room, and then stopped short in di may at the sight of her father. i “Father!” she cried. “What—— “Keep away—spies!” snarled the old man, “You want my secret! You)shan’t have it!” _ He turned, and, clasping the machine in his arms, pulled with all his might. There was a snapping and tearing away of the wires connecting it to the bat- teries. The next instant he had it free and stood by the open window in the cliff. “You want my secret—my brains!” he cried, his ice rising to a shrill oes “But you ‘ll Gaye neither ! ll chea eon alt “Don’t TIP ROL: Wt The professor lay still with his eyes closed, seem- running race of tense interest in the tale, which yo TKLY. The gi screamed, and Brian sprang forward like a flash. Both had devined his purpose, but too late. t Still holding the machine in his arms, the madman = J turned and leaped straight through the window. There | was a ripping and tearing of the vines, a sudden flash of sunlight through the jagged hole, a loud splash— and then deathlike silence. Without a sound the girl tottered and fell straight forward. Cleves caught her just in time and let her gently down on the rug. Then he ran into the kitchen for water. Returning with it, he dashed a little in her face and * began to chafe her wrists softly. The door opened and ‘ -Merriwell stepped into the room, Ko Cleves looked up quickly. : “Ts he Then he hesitated. Dick nodded. “Yes,” he returned seriously, “quité dead. I inte. it must have been the shock, for we reached him be- fore he went down the second time.” Cleves sighed as he looked down at the head that — rested quietly on his arm. s Suddenly the girl gave a little moan and, opening ier eyes, gazed straight up into the blue ones which oe were fixed so pityingly upon. her. oe Apparently she saw the truth there, for dhe sat up quickly and, covering her face with her hands, ee to sob bitterly. _ For’a moment Cleves made no move thee he leaned toward her. “It’s really the best thing,” he said, in a 1G tine, “You wouldn’t have wanted him to he alee way.” , There was no reply, only a little quiver of her slender figure. Cleves hesitated, then one arm stole protectingly about her. . “Elinor,” he w hisndsed softly ; “Elinor! Dick Merriwell tiptoed to the door, stepped into the passage, ane closed it quietly behind him, p? THE END In the tale to appear in ‘the next number Mr. Standish tells the story of Dick»Merriwell in a pretty bad fi but it is not, as you all know, the first bad one he was ever in, Dick tries his hand at a little amateur de tective work, and after a mad, exciting chase—in more ways than one—he discloses a moral coward in hi: true light, and makes him own up to the penalty of hi cowardice. Dick’s self-poise, under strenuous cond tions, will make him, once more, the object of. you admiration and the example of your. best endeavors self-control. How all this happens is swiftly and es citingly told. It is called “Dick Merriwell Defeated or, The Champion of the Clover Club.” There is. are sure to enjoy reading. Bout ae the n umber It is ie ie next mene st pea q PR aN ACHS <:, «'sodvsccsavescenernne 85e. NEW YORK, August. 6, 1910, ' TERMS TO TIP TOP WEEKLY MAIL SUBSCRIBERS. (Postage Free.) Single Copies or Back Numbers, 5c. Each. ONG VERN ins 5.2 ccwhducdemevees $2.50 2 copies ONG year.........2.006 4.00 1 copy two years..........--+- 4.00 3 MONTHS . oc a sewdcccscccccccsacs 65e. 6 MONS ..-.-0eeneee renee eenes $1.25 How to Send Money—By post-office or express money order, j B registered letter, bank check or draft, at our risk. At your own risk if sent __ by currency, coin, or postage stamps in ordinary letter. Bo | Receipts—Receipt of your remittance is acknowledged by proper . _change of number on your label. If not correct you have not been properly _ eredited, and should let us know at once. STREET & SMITH, Publishers, -Ormonp G. SmrrH, 79-89 Seventh Avenue, New York City. Grorce C. Stu, t Prop Say Ps = “TIP TOP” BASEBALL TOURNAMENT. Jump in, boys, and play ball hard for the prizes of the baseball tournament. Don’t forget how to get the certificates or the terms of the contest. ; _ Certificates are to be obtdined only by cutting them from the back pages of “Tip Top.” The terms of the contest are printed on a following page. Read them carefully. No one who does not comply strictly with the conditions of Y the contest will stand a chance for the prizes. The contest ends October 15. Hustle; get busy. GOOD FOR THE SOIL. - Waste paper lying about the garden of Hawarden was put to an ingenious use by Mr. Gladstone. A gentleman was one day _ walking with England’s premier, when they came to a) small " piece of paper lying on the grass. ‘ ‘ “What would you do with that?” said Mr. Gladstone, pointing to it. : “IT think I’d pick it up and take it away,” answered his com- -panion, astonished. “Ah! Well, this is what I do with it,” said Mr. Gladstone. _ Thereupon he placed the pointyof his walking stick on the middle of the scrap of paper, twisted the stick round and round in the soil, and with much dexterity left the bit of paper in the soil _ and out of sight. “The Duke of Buccleuch tayght me to do that,” he said, as they resumed their walk. “It is good for the soil.” A TERRIBLE THREAT. ‘Tt is'a well-known fact that certain vagabonds desire nothing better, especially when the cold weather comes on, than to be arrested and locked up, in order thatthey may be taken care of— at least, for a while. ‘ - One of this fraternity succeeded in getting himself arrested for vagrancy, and cn the way to the lock-up he was so much verjoyed at the prospect of not having to sleep in the open air, that he behaved somewhat boisterously. — _ “Keep quiet, will you?” shouted the policeman. [ll let you go!” : “HIS PROMPT COMMAND. First Lieutenant—“By Jove! as we were going over the river the plank bridge, it gave way, and the men fell in.” cond Lieutenant—“What did you do?” I ordered them to fall out, of course.” 4 “If you don’t, WEEKLY. ‘ A Short Story by Your Favorite Author. RED HUGH, THE BOY CHIEF. By BURT L. STANDISH. Histories of all nations record noble and heroic acts performed by youths who are sometimes no more than mere_boys; but no truthful story can be more romantic.and thrilling than that of Hugh O’Donnell—“Red Hugh,”’ of Ireland. Red Hugh’s father had once been a powerful .chief, but the English power had placed its iron heel upon his neck and crushed him into submission, so that he avowed loyalty to the enemies of Ireland. Hugh O'Neill, a younger man than Chief O’Donnell, and his enemy by an old and bitter feud, also pre- tended to be loyal to the English; but it was suspected that his loyalty was wavering, and he was reported to be drilling warriors | for some sinister purpose and purchasing large quantities of . “roofing lead” that never reached anybody’s roof. But, for all of the feud, it was said that old O’Donnell’s beautiful daughter —Red Hugh’s sister—was in love with O’Neill, and the breach between the two chiefs might be healéd by a marriage. For all this, it was not old O’Donnell the English feared, but Red Hugh, whose age was fifteen, and who was said to be a hardy, muscular boy, capable of holding Hig own in feats of strength and endurance with a man, and endowed with great courage and ability, together with an unbounded love for his native land. In this boy the English saw a rising menace, and it was finally resolved to get him out of the way in some manner before he stepped into his father’s power. For this purpose a crafty plot was laid. It was in the summer of 1587 that Red Hugh who was very religious, together with various chiefs and leading men of the Irish people, resorted to the monastery of Carmelites, near Rathmullan, on the western shore of Lough Swilly, there to pay their devotions to the church; but they brought staghounds and weapons, as there were red deer in the forests of Innishowen, and some of the younger men were almost as devoted to the chase as to the church. “ One day while Red/ Hugh lingered near Rathmullan, a bark. doubled the promontory of Dunaff and stood up the lough, sail- ing swiftly and cutting the water like a knife. Opposite Rath- mullan she dropped anchor, raised the flag of England, and offered for sale her cargo of Spanish wines. To all outward ap- pearance she was a peaceful trader, and her master was. soon reported to be the most courteous merchant who had visited the coast in yéars, for he invited the people on board and opened wine most liberally for them, making every one welcome, thus obtaining the good will of all. ; Red Hugh and his companions soon'heard of this, and they visited the trader, who received them with a great show of re-) spect, and even with delight. To the cabin they were taken, and As ’s the wine was of the very best, they did as invited; but, when they , the master opgned wine and urged them to partake freely. attempted to leave the ship, some time later, they found them- | selves secured under hatches, and, as the drugged wine over- came their senses, they realized they had been duped. When morning dawned they found their weapons had been removed, and they were captives. The black-hatched bark was under way, and she flew past Malin and the cliffs of Innishowen, past Benmore, and bore southward to the shores of Antrim and _ the mountains of Mourne, never dropping anchor till she lay under the towers of Dublin. There Red, Hugh, the Prince of Tryconnell, was received with exultation by Perriot, and cast into a strong castle dungeon, — being ironed and kept there three years. Three bitter years they were for the strong, bold-hearted lad who had chased the red deer deep in the forest of Innishowen, whose blood had bounded hotly through his. veins, whose heart had leaped and exulted at. hjs own strength and freedom. Ry oe But the Boy Chief was not = to give up to despair, and he plotted and planned during those years—plotted for freedom once 28 PL ae more. Being so closely confined, he wasted and grew thin fill the warder of Castle Birmingham grew courteous and relieved him of his irons. Then, by, the warder’s courtesy, he sometimes met his fellow captives on the stone stairs. There were mysterious whisperings and strange signs in that grim old castle. Hugh found he could trust Art Kavanagh, who was also eager to escape, and they plotted together till their scheme was perfected. A favorable night catne at last—dark and wild, with, a fierce storm raging about the old castle. The sentries sheltered them- selves from the pitiless sleet, and, at peril of life and limb, sev- eral of the young captives stealthily scaled bastion and battle- ment, fosse and barbican, passed each sentry in safety, reached the city’s streets at last, groping their way to the country be- yond, and fled, as *best they could, to the southward, headed for the valley of Wicklow. q For several days they held together, traveling by night, hiding when the sun rose, starving, fainting, hoping, fearing, encourag- ing each other. They found they were hotly pursued, and so they scattered, Red Hugh and Kavanagh clinging together. But Hugh the fugitive was not Hugh the hunter who had chased the red deer, fleet of foot and tireless as a hound. Long years of confinement in the old castle had sapped him of his strength, and he finally sank helpless, bleeding and fainting, unable to proceed’ farther. “Go, brave comrade—leave me!” he urged, as Art Kavanagh bent over him in doubt and dismay. “I can keep my feet no longer, and it is doomed I am to be taken by the English dogs. You are yet strong, and you may escape. Farewell!” But Kavanagh lingered, his face showing the agony of his mind. “How can I leave you so?” he cried. “No, no; it must not be! Bear up yet a little, Hugh O’Donnell, and the saints will aid us in some way giving our foes the slip.” Red Hugh shook his head. “Here I am done,” he once more declared. ‘You can escape, and I command you to go! Do you dare disobey me? Go!” So Kavanagh, with tears in his eyes, embraced his exhausted companion and continued the flight alone. He escaped; but Red Hugh was retaken and again confined in the dungeon of Castle Birmingham. But his spirit was not broken, and he had tasted freedom. He did not despair, but set about plotting once more. However, it is not probable he would have escaped had he not: found in the lord deputy a traitor to the English, who had accepted a bribe from Hugh O'Neill to aid in the liberation of several captives. The Boy Chief was among those set free, and one of the lord deputy’s emissaries escorted the band of fugitives from the city, and saw them safely set on their flight to the Wicklow Moun- tains and Glenmalure. Again was the escaping party hotly pursued, and again they were forced to scatter. This time Red Hugh’s companion was one Art O’Neill, a relative of Hugh O'Neill, whose bribe had pro- cured their liberty. In prison, however, Art O’Neill had grown corpulent, and the tramp over the mountains told on him se- verely. He was about to give up when they obtained a guide, a faithful peasant, who volunteered to lead them to Feagh O’Brine, a chief who was up in arms against the English. But O’Neill could not hold out, even though he was supported by both his companions. It came on bitter cold, and he gave up in despait. ‘Still Red Hugh would not leave him. ‘ “Hasten on,” he said to the guide; “make all haste to Feagh O’Brine and bid him send us aid. I will stay with my comrade.” The guide did as he was bidden, hurrying through the night, which fell black and bitter, with a driving storm of hail and snow. On receiving word, Feagh O’Brine made all haste to send succor, but the rescuers found two stiff and rigid forms wrapped in winding sheets of snow and hailstones. At first it was believed both were dead; but both finally revived, although Art O’Neill did so but to groan once, gasp for breath and expire. Red Hugh showed more vitality, and he was carried to Glen- malure, where he was secreted: in a sequestered cabin and at- tended by a physician, who nursed him back to life. Tidings of the escape reached Hugh O’Neill, who sent a faith- ful guide to bring the young chief to him, and Red Hugh went as soon as he was able to do so. O'Neill received him with the greatest joy, and then the feud was declared ended forever, and they entered upon a compact to stand by each other for the good of Ireland, no matter what fate befell them—a compact that was never broken. Old Chief O’Donnell was feeble and lacking in energy. He “ee WEEKLY. rejoiced at the escape of his gon, and straightway proceeded to abdicate in his favor, so, at the age of nineteen, Red Hugh re- ceived. his father’s power and position, which was transferred at the Rock of Dorne, Kilmacrennan. Together the warriors of Hugh O’Neill and Hugh O’Donnell, with the two Hughs to lead them, met the choicest flower of the English army, under Sir Henry Bagnal, and defeated their ene- mies in a bloody battle at Blackwater. And history tells how, in later years, the two Hughs fought back to back against their overwhelming foes; how Red Hugh, the Boy Chief, formed a great national confederacy; how his life was sought in all manner of ways by the English; and how, at last, he was finally compelled to fly with the “Irish exiles,” of whom O’Neill was one, from dear old Erin, nevermore to return, soon to droop and die far from the land of.-his birth. TOO MUCH FOR WASHINGTON, General Washington’s traditional gravity was once sadly dis- turbed by an anecdote related at his table by a certain Doctor John ‘Thomas, a regimental surgeon from New England. Thomas was an excellent story teller, and could take off the character- istics of the people of his section as no one else could. After the preliminaries of peace had been signed, he was in- vited one day to dine at headquarters. One of Washington’s aids requested that the guest might be allowed to repeat the dialogue that had passed between two Yankee soldiers who. had visited Count Rochambeau’s camp. Thomas had nearly reached the conclusion of his story and Washington still sat unmoved, with his stately, impassive countenance turned toward him. At last the doctor reached the point at which the two soldiers began to comment on the Frenchman’s idea of a hat, and he repeated what had been said: “What. do you suppose Chambeau’s soldiers call a hat?” said Jonathan. “Why, the tarnal fools, they call it a chapeau; and why and be darned to them can’t they call it a hat and ha’ done with it?” This absurdity was too much for even Washington to listen to without yielding it the tribute of a hearty laugh; and this was almost the only instance of hilarity on his part during the entire war. Ws, DESERVED REPROOF. The stories of ventriloquism are strange and wonderful, even though certain’ people are always telling us there is no such thing as throwing the voice to any distance and having it still natural in sound. A civil engineer says that while he was over- seer to a gang of men who were hauling loads of stone, a friend of his, a ventriloquist, came up and stood by his side, watching the men at work. Presently a horse driven by a large, red-headed and fiery- tempered [Irishman jibbed in front of the spot where the two lookers-on were standing. The Irishman soon lost his temper, and began to belabor the animal with his whip. Now and then the horse would turn hig head and look reproachfully at the Irishman, but still refused to budge. “Now just watch the Irishman,’ whispered the ventriloquist in his friend’s ear. At that moment. Pat, losing all patience, gave the animal a tremendous kick in the ribs with his heavy boot. The horse turned his head, and, looking the Irishman in the face, opened his mouth: “Don’t you do that again!” The voice sounded as though it came direct from between the hprse’s lips. The whip dropped from the Irishman’s hand. For a moment he stared at the beast, and then, without uttering a word, he whirled about and bolted down the street as fast as his two legs could take him. SOME BIRDS SING AS THEY FLY. There are many birds that sing as they fly, particularly the skylark, which sings both rising, when suspended, and falling. The titlark sings in its descent; the woodlark, suspended, in hot summer nights, all night long. Many birds, particularly the black- bird and the wren, sing when flying from bush to bush, while the mocking bird, during its time of courting, flies round and round its mate pouring forth full, melodious strains. The red- start, too, is fond of hovering over its nest and warbling a low ~song. a eo Be cover to cover, TIP TOP WEEKLY. APPLAUSE FROM TIP TOP READERS No Other Stories Half So Good. ss I think there are no other stories half so good as those in _ “Tip Top.” I like to read the weekly because of the manly sport and games of which it tells and because it makes a good impression on me. When I started to read “Tip Top” I used to smoke, but now I have stopped, and I do not play with boys that do smoke. About a year ago I sent one of Frank Merri- well’s stories to one of my boy friends and asked him to try it. I received a letter in a few days telling me it was fine and asking me to please send him another. My mother forbade me to read “Tip Top” until I asked her to read one and showed ner some of the letters of Applause. Now when |] have noth- ing to do at night she gives me money for “Tip Top.” Bong life and happiness to Frank and Dick Merriwell, also to Burt L - Standish. © CuesTer Moore. -. Brooklyn, N* -Y. Baseball Manager Won New Readers. _. I think “Tip Top” is the cleanest and best weekly for the young published. I am managef of a ball team, and the boys on the team used to say your weekly was bad for me. I lent them one apiece, and now they all read them and have quite changed their opinion. Long live Mr. Standish, and three cheers for “Tip Top.” D’ArMo CRUSSELLE. Atlanta, Ga. ; | Helps Him to Control His Temper. I am a reader of “Tip Top,” and it has helped me plenty of times to control my temper. I am persuading others to take it, _as it is the best weekly for the young ever published. | Chesapeake, Ohio. Max SEEGMILLER. - Standish Greatest Writer for Boys. I have been reading “Tip Top” for two years, and have ‘not missed a single number. I think Burt L. Standish is the greatest writer for boys in the world. If you want to know why I love “Tip Top,” it is because there is sense in every chapter from I used to smoke and be a tough boy until I read “Tip Top.” I changed when I saw the type of American manhood in Frank and Dick Merriwell. 1 think Frank, Dick, _ Crowfoot, Elsie, June, and Doris are simply grand. Tell Burt ' Standish to write some more about Joe Crowfoot. ary ‘Santa Rosa, Cal. ALBERT MARONI. Has Helped Him Morally and Physically. ~T'have read your valued weekly from No. 500, and I have _ never been disappointed in it once. We had a club by the name _ of. the “ae Top Readers.” I gave it that name to be passed upon, and I won by a large majority. I got all of the people in the lodge to read “Tip Top. buy it every week. It has helped me both morally and physically. urt L, Standish deserves great credit from both young and — ALFRED L. Breor. lartford, Conn. G il Enjoys “Tip Top”? as Well as Any Boy. ee ; girl, I enjoy reading “Tip Top” as much as any oy does. two brothers and I have been reading them about year, ait ’ve got a boy and girl to read them, I hope you will live long, Mr. Standish, so they’ll never go out of print. Escanaba, Mich. (Miss) MAY LINGER. seball Stories ‘Simply Corkarks ‘<> think “Tip Top” is a dandy. I like the baseball stories best. y are simply corkers. IL shave read nearly all the Medal hooks and a large number of ‘ se Tops.” back to U. S. again. I hope he pla ys ball a lot this summer. fe enero N. Dak. ArcHi£t MuUNTER. 7 ommends Them to menniialis sis « "tate great pleasure in letting you know how I Sener op.” , “nothing of the pleasure obtained in reading them been an enthusiastic reader for five years, and recommend them everybody, young and old. I like all the meer nents t in Burt L.’s at and wish him a long life. e A. H. Brooker, ' I got six or seven people to. I am glad Frank is | I-think it is both educational and gienkgucs eo if ave Taught Him to Be On the Square. I have read “Tip Top” for the last three years. “In my opinion it is the best weekly for young readers ever published. It has taught me to treat everybody on the square and also to stop smoking. I have taken Frank Merriwell as my model. 1 have induced eight or ten boys to read “Tip Top.” Chicago, Ill. ARNOLD RoupeEz. Good Example for Boys to Follow. I have been reading “Tip Top” for over four years, and largely on that account I have never learned to smoke or chew tobacco. My father says that the example set by the Merriwell characters is good enough for the best young man in the world \to follow. A. LACHLAN. New Westminster, B. C., Canada. A Feast of Delightful Stories. I like “Tip Top” because the characters in its stories seem more lifelike than those in other weeklies. Whenever any of my friends want something to read I recommend “Tip Top.” I have learned from it a lot about sports. Mr. Standish certainly does give us a feast of delightful stories. I wish I could thank him personally for them. Harry Lesser. Bonne Terre, Missouri. .As Much Fun as Seeing a Real Ball Game. I like the “Tip Top” because of its high morals, and I have got several other boys to read it. At first their parents objected to it, but I told them to read one or two of the stories and notice the lesson of good from bad. They did and said they were about all right. Now several of the baseball fans are read- ing them, because they can have as good a time that waymas if they were seeing a real game. CLARENCE Dixon. Cayuga, Indiana. Author Pictures Everything So Interestingly. I like “Tip Top” because of its clean moral tone and. because the writer has such an interesting way of picturing everything, making it appear as if the reader was seeing whatever he de- scribes. I*keep every copy. I lend a good many, and have in this way induced several to buy them, too. The “Tip Top” has inspired me with a wish: to become as strong and athletic as possible. I wish to become a good baseball player. aerate success to Street and Smith and to Burt L. Standish. , - Ulster, Pa. Emery M. BORLINGAME, Always Has a Touch of Humor. I like “Tip Top” because it discourages bad habits, and is always interesting and has a touch of humor. “Tip Top” has. broken me of the smoking habit and interested me in sports. _ I have got my two brothers and six of my friends to read i and am trying to get more. Frep NEWELL. ~ -Cohoes, N. Y Nothing But Praise for the Stories. I am a student at Southwestern University. The first year I was here I didn’t take any interest in outdoor sports, but since I began reading the “Tip Top” I have become one\of the mem- bers of the baseball team. I certainly enjoy reading the base- ball stories in “Tip Top.” There is nothing but praise for me to say about these stories. They are all so good. Georgetown, Texas, - JoHN W. Viser. How Much a Girl Likes “Tip Top.” I like “Tip Top” the best of all the weeklies because I jug if the boys read it they will be sure to try and follow in Frank's and Dick’s footsteps. I am sure I would if I were a boy; but , it has helped me, anyhow. I had a terrible temper, and Fead how cool and calm Frank Merriwell keeps when he gets into a quarrel, and I said to myself I would try to do the same, and I have succeeded, ‘They say I have changed a heap. I have a brother who never would read anything, so one day I told him a story I had read about Frank Merriwell, and he liked it so much that he got the “Tip Top” to see if it was like the -one I had told him, and he aa been a constant reader ever since. } d ; aay tee Seas: : : ‘. | weight, ‘inches; unexpanded, inches. Book of Athletic Development.” ‘French, German, and Greek, and a little Latin. study that I dislike, and only one profession that I do not like, some short sketches for different story papers. _ adyjse me to follow the profession of an author or that ‘of a civil engineer? . ’ Ba Be: TMs: FOP 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 number can be had by mail by remitting 10 cents, and 3 cents postage, for each copy, to the publishers. Frank Merriwell’s Book of Physical Development. The Art of Boxing and Self-defense, by Prof. Donovan. U.S. Army Physical Exercises, revised by Prof. Donovan. Physical Health Culture, by Prof. Fourmen. To a Tip Topper in South Africa. Pror. FourMEN: I am 16% years old; height, 5 feet 314 inches; 105 pounds, in street clothes; chest, expanded, 321% 29% inches; waist, 27% inches; neck, 13 Please tell me my weak points and how to strengthen them. P. J. Mostert. Piquetberg Road, Malmesbury, Cape Colony, South Africa. I should say that you need a general building up, one not to be accomplished wholly by exercise, although that would con- duce greatly to the desired result. You need development at the chest particularly. Dumb-bell drill) and deep breathing in the open air might help you in this regard. There is so much to say f you that I think it would be better for you to obtain some good book on physical or athletic development. One published by Street & Smith, the publishers of “Tip Top’—is’» It is called “Frank Merriwell’s Get a copy of this, or some other to be obtained nearer home, if you don’t want to wait long ene for one to reach you from New York. / » regarded as an excellent guide. Room Near the Top. ace FourMEN: Which is the best trade—machinist or elec- trician? Which pays the most, and which is the most noted? Jacksonville, Fla. Patrick WALSH. Both trades are excellent ones, and somewhat akin in their nature. Which is the best depends entirely upon one’s individual tastes and abilities. After you have become proficient, both callings pay good re but, of course, you must first serve your apprenticeship, when the wages are small. It is difficult to _know exactly what you mean by which is the most noted. There have been distinguished men ,in both lines, chiefly those who possessed some inventive faculty. * The electrician’s trade is perhags just now the most overcrowded of the two, but there is always room near the top for one possessing brains and industry. . bere Civil Engineer or Author? Pror. Fourmen: I am sixteen years of age, and have a fair. I like to read the old classics, being able to read education. ‘ There is no I have already written and that is the profession of a lawyer. | Would you Ibany, N.Y. | oe you wish to make a comfortable living, my advigesto you, ne by all means, is to become a civil engineer rather than turn your attention to literary pursuits. Where one succeeds as an author, hundreds fail. By fail, I mean barely manage to keep. body and soul together. Nearly all successful authors—and the success- ful ones are in the vast minority—have had their long proba- tions of ne and Sines, and. it is mainly, mener we do WEEKLY. not know, or because the author has chosen to hide his early experiences, that we are apt to think of famous authors as leap-— ing into fame without difficulty or hard work. But all this need not prevent you from occupying your leisure hours in writing. In fact, I strongly advise you to do so. It will be capital occu- pation for you, and if you have the divine spark it may blaze in the course of time. Hears the Call of the Stage. Pror. FourMEN: I am nineteen years old, and have been ‘working for three years at the carpenter’s trade. I am some- | thing of a gymnast, and have been. offered a chance on the — vaudeville stage to do acts with two other young men. What do you advise? W. G. Brown. Cincinnati, Ohio. I should certainly advise you to keep your present job and renounce the idea of change. Depend upon it, you will not improve your condition by accepting the offer which has been. "made to you. Follow my advice, and I am sure that there will come a time when you will thank me for giving you such counsel. Frank Merriwéll’s Marriage. Pror. FourMEN: Please inform me, through “Tip Top,” in which number it was that Frank Merriwell was married, or the number that tells most about the rer San Francisco, Cal. : AL. Perici The story of Frank Merriwell’s wedding appeared in No. 481 of “Tip Tep.” We have had many inquiries for this num-. ber, but have been unhble to supply it recently because the stock is exhausted. But a full account of this romantic fact in | .Frank’s life will be found in Medal Library No. 587, to be pub- Gee 9 Not only will you get the story of lished on September 27. the marriage here, but the narrative of Merry’s adventures re-. ~ sulting in that happy event. The title of the book, which so — many of you are awaiting with eager interest, is “Frank Merri-, well’s Marriage; or, The Triumph of His Career.” | To a Boy Who is Short-winded. Pror. FouRMEN: My measurements are as follows: Height, 5 feet 7 inches; chest, normal, 32 inches; expanded, 35 inches ; weight, 130 pounds; upper arm, 10 inches; expanded, 11 inches lower arm, ro inches; expanded, my inches ; calf of leg, 1 inches; waist, 28 inches; hips, 35 inches. I was 14 years ol this month. Kindly point out my defects and how to overcome them. I am very short- winded. Respectfully yours, Pécs New York City, N. Y. You seem to be in good farm: except your chest. WALTER LEHMANN. There -you need building up; the same drill that» will give you the development there will lengthen your wind. Get a copy of “Frank Merriwell’s Book of Athletic Development,” and follow | the advice it contains. There the exercises -you require are ‘set forth in much greater detail than I could give to the ae ject here. ; What Trade Shall He Adopt? _ Pror. Fourmen: I am thirteen years of age, and am attend- ing school. I must begin before long to make my own living. I don’t know what to do. What would you advise me to become? I have no great fancy for anything in particular. ; Waco, | Texas, Joun SEATON. It is impossible for me to advise a boy of whose tastes and aptitudes I know little or nothing, as to what trade or profession he shall adopt. But, in a general way, find out what you are best fitted for and stick to that. Concentration is undoubtedly the most important factor in success; everything nowadays tends Sof toward specialties, and eciensbranies along certain lines necessi-_ _ tates courage, patience, and a systematic use of time. I ‘is’ much better to learn one thing thoroughly than many thing superficially. If you have “no great fancy for anything in par ticular,” learn a trade and learn it well, and then you will alwa be able to make a living. You are very young, and perhaps yo _will discover your true vocation as you grow older. ‘ | CONTEST CLOSES OCTOBER 15 fe ALL AND WID ye | 4 of 3 } ee It’s up to you, boys, to land the prizes. | Get after them. Do your best. . = Make the scores that will put you in right for se first or second place. i The rules of the contest for 1910 differ somewhat from those of ame \ 4 last ‘year. Read all about it in the form below: fe .. PLAYER’S CERTIFICATES. CONDITIONS OF CONTEST. ‘a N fairness to all the clubs that enter this contest, and that HE two ‘teams which, at the end of the season, have the YA theres be na aout ato wos the print souid en tis DT highest avergze—that iy, play the grestnt‘wimbor o | 7 the nine as well as the Club-Certificate, Below is the coupon ae score the most eee and lose the Teast: nantber “4 which each member should cut out, sign and give to the manager of games—will be declared the winners. Of these two the one ae having the higher average will be declared the TIP FOP of the nine that he may send it along with the Club Certificate. ' Write in the names of the clubs that played, the date of the game, ; the score, and the name of the winner. > PLAVER’S CERTIFICATE. TIP TOP BASEBALL TOURNAMENT FOR 1910. This is to certify that I have played in the game between the ; eS Lath he na abietiudberadewinaiclk Go ieats and the__..- MAUD Scthipoos a <4 gil ele ha wie = me ANNALS e Spb deyhe dpodbbns and that the score was-a---- veg itns pasa siuke keke in favor of... i eet A SN Pae hae eo Rup etre ueiL LB hig pieloshasedes (Signature.) TO DECIDE A TIE. : Should there be atic, in runs and games played, of two or more chibs In the highest- scoré class, such tie will be decided by the batting: and fielding record of the tied clubs. The one having the best record in that respect will be declared the winner. The captains of competing teams are advised, therefore, to preserve the gerieral, or.detailed score, of every. gameé played, but not to send it to TIP TOP with the Club Certificate,. You will be zalled een for the general score only in case your club shoujd be one of those i a tie. ~ office. CHAMPIONSHIP TEAM OF THE ALL-AMERICAN BASE- BALL TOURNAMENT OF 1910, and will receive a beautiful silk penant. bearing suitable words.. Each winning team will receive a fulf equipment, consisting of trousers, shirt, stockings, shoes and cap for nine members. For éach game played the scote, signed by the manager, must be sent to the editor of Tip Top, of his nine signs one of the certificates printed at the left of this—the one headed, ‘‘Player’s Certificate.”’ gaime—imust accompany évéry Club Certificate-sent to ‘this To stibstantiate the score, get your postmaster, or one y ; The manager must see to it, also, that every player Each player must — sign a separate certificate, and these—nine in all for each or more of the newsdealers of whom you buy your Tip Tops, to sign the Club Certificate on the line printed at the bottom. When possible, send in newspaper accounts of the games. No notice will be taken of any score not entered on a Club Certifi- cate cit out of Trp Top; nor will any notice be taken of ascore not accompanied by a signed ae s Certificate. for every member of the nine. ” CLUB CERTIFICATE AMES OF TEAM." Pt; pTifliTiiiilitiii le rr errr tt ite SObRDe nw sho ahd hsb svcdedidncevdececbuuddbsspodeseda Sbebeudecusdb¥sbinee Medwseradsbesceceneesensnee ‘ahuaserese NEbWes uh vedsude Tekin sutenbauween 0" ‘ MEd Oecd bows eb we ewe a seem war essasbetntendeweeseaweseevasetueerenbuuses CSc w hse bab seen as ener ae nena en arnscrscngecen suse nsnustcactudoasetoseny ae TTT ITLL LLL LL LLL ee et 7 COOH EOE EERE ER HEE CREE RETR REE EEE EER ENE EEE EEE REET HEHEHE EERE EDS! Ubuceh BEN nace uoh ns dhdaansdddns Cabbn choca deewhe MEWMN PACED Raa awabeks y (PERSO Ones uoneeneronnenessaentranaaansensasaunaueas mew eewee eeeeee seen one 4910—TIP TOP BASEBALL TOURNAMENT—1910 POSITION, Pitcher Catcher lst Base 2d Base 34 Base B. Field sapke , | Plea L. Field SATII oes ons ahenn ths mdlenasnd nt FINAL SCORE. 42.44 s.0ts-asseseeennestH ANAGER, seco SVN awed abe Newsdealer or Postmaster Sigas acs sabis Uh Win he azaddecresincr tails cat NAMES OF TEAM. , 4 De a Wk aa Re ices f \ ¢. P j ‘ ob EO OR ORES EERE REESE OEE ROE Ew RHEE RHEE EEOC ee a , ‘ j ‘ ORO eww e ewan eee an eee nee COR eee R et ee ee nee O RECN E ER SHE EE RECS eRe } hau decdworbenewrccaunecepocuctoboscwocedehdeeteecesspocaunseowbiomed + ; ry Nya OO Ree e Rarer eee ween semen es ese enn nee sew esnnnreeeeeserEaenasaaee t le RO wow ee eater nee awewasenesenns ewww cen weceenesoees awww ence cc touenwats 7 wee ghhbes bebe Ssscdccsbbangdewede dhebwbe tens npecocwoc dn enese seeecese panaabsdnkthBinh wer nie yeeMis sevbsees at esegess “ones aceecscwneeoesos bi cee ~ ALL, OF THE BACK NUMBERS OF TIP TOP WEEKLY THAT CAN NOW BE SUPPLIED 288—Frank Merriwell’s Policy. 240—Frank Merriwell’s General- shi 241—Frank Merriwell’s Kick. : 242—F rank Merriwell’s High J ump 243—Frank Merriwell’s “Brassie’ Shot. Sahar Vtank Mersiwells Entertain- m ents. 246—Frank Merriwell’s Mastery. 247—Frang Merriwell’s Dilemma, 249—F rank Merriwell’s Search. 250—Frank Merriwell’s Ring. 251—Frank Merriwell’s Party. 258—Frank Merriwell’s Skill. 254—Frank Merriwell’s Club. 255—-Frank Merriwell’s Scheme. 256—F rank een Mysteri- ous Move 257—Frank Merriwell’s Hand. 258—-Frank Merriwell’s Suspicion. 259—F rank Merriwell’s Trust. 261—Frank Merriwell’s riend. 262—Frank Merriwell Deceived. 263—Frank Merriwell in Form. 264—Frank Merriwell’s Coach. 433—Dick Merriwell’s ation 467—Dick -Merriwell in Egy 469—Frank Merriwell’s qalia- / tion. 485—Dick Merriwell tn Manila. 486—Dick Merriwell Marooned. 487——Dick Merriwell’s Comrade. 488—Dick Merriwell, Gap-Stopper. 489—-Dick Merriwell’s Sacrifice Hit 490—Dick Merrtwell’s Support. 491—Dick Merriwell’s Stroke. 492—Dick Merriwell Shadowed. 493—Dick Merriwell’s Drive. 494—-Dick Merriwell’s Return. 495—Dick Merriwell’s BeetORe Oe 496—Dick Merriwell’s Value. 497—Dick Merriwell’s ‘‘Dukes.”’ 498—Dick Merriwell’s Drop Kick. 499—Dick Merriwell’s Defeat. 500—Dick Merriwell’s Chance. 501—Dick Merriwell’s Stride. 502—-Dick Merriwell’s Wing-Suit. 503—Dick Merriwell’s Skates. 504—Dick Merriwell’s Your Fists. 505—Dick .Merriwell’s Dashing Game. 506—Frank Merriwell’s Tigers. 507—Frank Merriwell’s Treasure Guard. 508—Frank Merriwell’s’ Fear. [ 509—Dick Merriwell in Maine. 510—Dick Merriwell’s Polo Team. 511—Dick Merriwell in the Ring. 512—Frank Merriwell’s New Idea. §18—Frank Merriwell’s Trouble. Bosom Flying / 614—Frank Merriwell’s Pupils. 515—Dick Merriwell’s Satisfaction 616—Dick Merriwell’s Discern- ment. Pear or Merriwell’s Friendly and. 518—-Frank Merriwell’s New Boy. 619—Frank Merriwell’s Mode. §20—Frank Merriwell’s Aids, 521—-Dick Merriwell’s Visit. 5§22—-Dick Merriwell’s Retaliation. §23—Dick Merriwell’s Rival. ea TARy Merriwell’s Young Cre 525—Frank - Merriwell’s Fast Nine. BACT ee Merriwell’s cmnnlatte Fiel §27—Dick Merriwell’s Hoprisht: §28—Dick Merriwell Dared. 529—Dick'Merriwell’s Dismay. 530—Frank Merriwell’s Son. or Merriwell’s Team 534—Dick, “Merriwell’s Demand. 535—Dick’ Merriwell’s Slabmate. 536—Frank Merriwell’s ‘amp. 537—Frank Merriwell’s Proposal. 5388—Frank Merriwell’s Spook- hunters. 539—Dick Merriwell’s Cheek. 540—Dick Merriwell’s Sacrifice. 541—Dick Merriwell’s Heart. 542—-Frank Merriwell’s New Auto. 543—Frank Merriwell’s Pride. 544—Frank Merriwell’s Young Winners. 545—Dick Merriwell’s Lead. 546—-Dick Merriwell’s Influence. 547—-Dick Merriwell’s Top Notch. 548—Frank Merriwell’s Kids. Frank Merriwell’s Kodakers, 550—Dick Merriwell, Freshman. 551—Dick Merriwell’s Progress. 552—-Dick Merriwell, Half-back. Merriwell’s Resentment. Merriwell Repaid. Merriwell’s Staying 558—Dick 554—Dick 555—Dick ower, 556—Dick Merriwell’s “‘Push.” 557—Dick Merriwell’s Running. 558—Dick Merriwell’s Joke. 559—Dick Merriwell’s Seven. 560—Dick.Merriwell’s Partner. 561—Dick “Merriwell in the Tank. 562—Frank Merriwell’s Captive. 563—Frank Merriwell's Trailing. 564—Frank Merriwell's Talisman. 565—Frank Merriwell’s Horse. 566—Frank Merriwell’s Intrusion. 567—Frank Merriwell’s Bluff. 568—Dick Merriwell's Regret. 569—-Dick Merriwell’s Silent Work. 570—Dick Merriwell’s Arm. 571—Dick Merriwell® Skill. 572—Dick Merriwell’s Magnetism. 573—Dick Merriwell’s System. 574—Dick Merriwell’s Salvation. 575—Dick Merriwell’s Twirling. 576—Dick Merriwell’s Party. 577—Dick Merriwell’s Backers. 578—Dick Merriwell’s Coach. 579—Dick Merriwell’s Bingle. 580—Dick Merriwell’s Hurdling. 581—Dick Merriwell’s Best Work. 582—Dick Merriwell’s Respite. 583—Dick Eaeeret ae 8 Disadvan- tag 584—Dick a driiwen Beset. §85—Dick Merriwell’s Great Rival. 586—Dick Merriwell’s Distrust. 587—Dick Merriwell, Lion-Tamer. 588—Dick Merriwell’s Camp-site. 589—Dick Merriwell’s Debt. 590—Dick Merriwell’s Camp-Mates 591—-Dick Merriwell’s Draw. 592—Dick Merriwell’s_ Disapproval. 593—Dick Merriwell’s Mastery. 594-—Dick Merriwell’s Warm Work 595—Dick .Merriwell’s “Double Squeeze.”’ 596—Dick Merriwell’s Vanishing. 597—Dick Merriwell Adrift. 598—Dick Merriwell’s Influence. 599—Frawk Merriwell’s Worst Boy. 600-—Frank Merriwell’s Annoyanee 601—Frank Merriwell’s Restraint. 602—Dick: Merriwell Held Back. 603—Dieck Merriwell in the Line. 604—Dick Merriwell’s Drop Kick. 605—Frank Merriwell's Air Voy- age. 606—Frank Merriwell’s Auto Chase. 607—F rank, Merriwell’s Captive. 608—Dick Merriwell’s Value. 609—Dick Merriwell Doped. §31—Frank Merriwell’s Old Flock.\610—Dick Merriwell’s Belief. 532—Frank Party. Merriwell’s ket. Fortune. 613—Frank Merriwell on Top. 614—-Dick Merriwell’s Trip West. Oe a aad 617 eee " Merriwell's 618—Frank Merriwell Perplexed. 619—Frank Merriwell’s Suspicion. 620—Dick Merriwell’s Gallantry. 621—Dick Merriwell’s Condition. 622—Dick Merriwell’s Stanchness. 623—Dick Merriwell’s Match. 624—Frank Merriwell’s Hard Case 625—Frank Merriwell’s Helper. 626—Frank Merriwell’s Doubts. 627—F rank Merriwell's ‘‘Phenom.” 628—Dick Merriwell’s Stand. 629—Dick Merriwell’s Circle. 630—Dick Merriwell’s Reach. 631—Dick Merriwell’s Money. 632—Dick Merriwell Watched. 633—Dick Merriwell Doubted. 634—Dick Merriwell’s Distrust. 635—Dick Merriwell’s Risk. 636—Frank Merriwell's Favorite. 6387—Frank Merriwell’s Young _ Clippers. 638—Frank Merriwell’s Steadying Hand. 689—Frank Merriwell’s Record- Breakers. 640—Dick Merriwell’s Shoulder. 641—Dick Merriwell’s Desperate Work. 642—Dick Merriwell’s Example. rngihaese Merriwell At Gale’s verry. 644—Dick Merriwell’s Inspiration. 645—Dick Merriwell’s Shooting. 646—Dick Merriwell in the Wilds. 647— “a Ohened Merriwell’s Red Com- ra 648—Frank Merriwell’s. Ranch. 649—F rane Merriwell “ih the Sad- d 650—Frank Merriwell’s Brand. 651—Frank Merriwell’s Red Guide 652—Dick Merriwell's Rival. 653—Dick Merriwell’s Strength. 654—Di = Merriwell’s Secret Jork. 655—Dick Merriwell’s Way. ey ee Merriwell’s Red Vis- tor. 657—Frank Merriwell’s Rope. 658—F rank Merriwell’s Lesson. 659—Frank Merriwell’s Protection 660—Dick Merriwell’s Reputation. 661—Dick Merriwell’s Motto. 662—Dick.Merriwell’s Restraint. 663—Dick Merriwell’s Ginger. 664—Dick Merriwell’s Driving. 665—Dick Merriwell’s Good Cheer. 666—F rank Merriwell’s Theory. 667—Frank Merriwell’s Diplomacy. 668—F ited sae wee s Encour- 669-—Frank. Great Work. 670—Dick Merriwell’s Mind. 671—Dick Merriwell’s “Dip.” 672—Dick Merriwell’s Rally. 673—Dick Merriwell's Flier. 674—Frank Merriwell’s Bullets. 675—Frank Merriwell Cut Off. 676—Frank Merriwell’s Ranch Boss. 677—Dicke Merriwell’s Equal. 678—Dick Merriwell’s Develop- ment. 679—Dick Merriwell’s Eye. ° 680—Frank Merriwell’s Zest. 681—F rank Merriwell's Patience. in Mystery Proposi- nt. S Ateredwatte House 611—F rank Merriwell in the Mar- 682~-Frank Merriwell’s Pupil. 683—F rank Merriwell's Fighters. Summer 612—Frank Merriwell’s Fight for pee Merriwell at the “Meet” 85—Dick Merriwell’s Protest. eee Bee’ in the Mara- Summer Sere Dick Merriwell’s Predicament 687—Dick Murebwell’é Colors. 688—Dick Merriwell, Driver. 689—Dick Merriwell on the Deep. 690—Dick Merriwell in the North Woods. 691—Dick Merriwell’s Dandies, 692—Dick Merriwell’s “Skyscooter” 693—Dick Merriwell in the Elk Mountains. 694—Dick Merriwell in Utah. 695—Dick Merriwell’s Bluff, 696—Dick Merriwell in the Saddle. 697—Dick Merriwell’s Ranch Friends. 698—Frank Merriwell at Phantom Lake. 699—Frank Merriwell’s Hold-back. 700—-Frank Merriwell’s Lively Lads. 701—Frank Merriwell as Instruct- or. 702-—Dick Merriwell’s Cayuse. 703—Dick Merriwell’s Quirt. . 704—Dick Merriwell’s Freshman Friend. 05—Dick Merriwell’s Best Form. 708——Dick Merriwell’s Prank. 707—Dick Merriwell’s Gambol. 708—Dick Merriwell's Gun, 709—-Dick Merriwell at His Best. 710—Dick Merriwell’s Master Mind 711—-Dick Merriwell’s Dander. 712—Dick Merriwell’s Hope. 713—Dick Merriwell’s Standard. 714—Dick Merriwell’s Sympathy. 715—Dick Merriwell in iicuae Land. 716—Frank Merriwell’s Fairness. 717—-Frank Merriwell’s Pledge. 718— a Merriwell, the Man of Grit? 19 —trank Metriwell’s Return, ow. 720—Frank Merriwell’s Quest. 721—F rank Merriwell’s Ingots. 722—F rank Merriwell’s Assistance. erg Ae Hersiwelt at the fap eee Merriwell, the Always 25—F rank Metetwall in Diamond and. 726—Frank Merriwell’s Desperate Chance. 727—F rank Merriwell’s Black Ter- ror. 728—Frank err Again on e Slab. 729-—Frank Merriwell’s Hard Game. 730—Frank Merriwell’s Six-in-hand 731—¥rank Merriwell’s Duplicate. 732—Frank Merriwell on Rattle- snake Ranch. 733—Frank Merriwell’s Sure Hand 734—-Frank Merriwell’s Treasure Map. to ee Merriwell, Prince of Rope. 736—Dick Merriwell, Captain of the Varsity. 737—Dick Merriwell’s Control./ 738—Dick Merriwell’s Back Stop. 739—Dick Merriwell’s Masked En- emy. 740—Dick Merriwell’s Motor Car. 741—Dick Merriwell’s Hot Pursuit. 742—Dick Merriwell at Forest Lake. 743—Dick Merriwell in Court, 744—Dick Merriwell's Silence. 745—Dick Merriwell’s Dog. 746—Dick Merriwell’s Suttextuses 747—Dick Merriwell’s Enigma. PRICE, FIVE CENTS PER COPY If vee want any back eilend of our weeklies and cannot procure them from your newsdealer, they can be obtained direct from this office. Postage stamps taken the sante as money. STREET @ SMITH. Publishers, 79, Seventh Ave., New York City PAR i YN MB ieee OF. 1] He TIP TOP WEEKLY WILL BE FOUND IN THE NEW MEDAL LIBRARY A few years ago, we were obliged to disappoint thousands of boys who wanted the early adventures of Frank and Dick Merriwell which were published in TIP TOP, because we did not have copies of the numbers that contained them. It was impossible for us to reprint TIP TOP WEEKLY, so we made the stories up in book form and published them in the NEW MEDAL LIBRARY at intervals of about Here is a list of these splendid books which four weeks beginning with No. 150. contain Nos. 1 to 485 of TIP TOP WEEKLY. Our experience with these books has taught us that thousands of boys are overjoyed at this Opportunity to secure their favorite stories in a more permanent form. 150—Frank 167—F rank 178—Frank 184—F rank 189—F rank 193—F rank 197—Frank 201—F rank 205—F rank 209—F rank 213—F rank 217—Frank 225—Frank 229—F rank 233—F rank 237—Frank 240—F rank 244—F rank 247—F rank 251—F rank 254—F rank 258—Frank 262—F rank 267—F rank ’ 271—Frank 276—F rank 280—F rank 284—Frank 288—Frank 292—F rank 296—F rank 300—F rank 304—F rank 308—F rank 312—F rank 316—Frank 320—F rank 324—F rank 328—F rank 332—F rank 336—F rank 340—F rank 344—F rank 348—F rank Merriwell’s School-days. Merriwell’s Chums. Merriwell’s Foes. Merriwell’s Trip West. Merriwell Down South. Merriwell’s Bravery. Merriwell’s Hunting Tour. Merriwell in Europe. Merriwell at Yale. Merriwell’s Sports Afield. Merriwell’s Races. Merriwell’s Bicycle Tour. Merriwell’s Courage. Merriwell’s Daring. Merriwell’s Athletes. Merriwell’s Skill. Merriwell’s Champions. Merriwell’s Return to Yale. Merriwell’s Secret. Merriwell’s Danger. Merriwell’s Loyalty. Merriwell in Camp. Merriwell’s Vacation. Merriwell’s Cruise. Merriwell’s Chase. Merriwell in Maine. Merriwell’s Struggle. Merriwell’s First Job. Merriwell’s Opportunity. Merriwell’s Hard Luck. Merriwell’s Protégé. Merriwell on the Road. Merriwell’s Own Company. Merriwell’s Fame. Merriwell’s Merriwell’s Merriwell’s Merriwell’s Merriwell’s Merriwell’s Stage Hit. Merriwell’s Great Scheme. Merriwell in England. Problem. Fortune. Prosperity. Merriwell on the Boulevards. Merriwell’s Duel. College Chums. New Comedian. 352—F rank 350—F rank Merriwell’s Baseball Victories 359—F rank 362—Frank 365—Frank 368—Frank 371—Frank 374—Frank 377—Frank 380—F rank 383—Frank 386—Frank 389—F rank 392—Frank 395—F rank 308—F rank 401—F rank 404— Frank 407—F rank 410—Frank 413—Frank 416—Frank 419—Frank 422—Frank 425—F rank 428—Frank 43I—Frank 434—F rank 437—Frank Merriwell’s Double Shot. Merriwell’s Confidence. Merriwell’s Auto. Merriwell’s Fun. Merriwell’s Generosity. Merriwell’s Tricks. Merriwell’s Temptation. Merriwell on Top. Merriwell’s Luck. Merriwell’s Mascot. Merriwell’s Reward. Merriwell’s Phantom. Merriwell’s Faith. Merriwell’s Victories. Merriwell’s Iron Nerve. Merriwell in Kentucky. Merriwell’s Power. Merriwell’s Shrewdness. Merriwell’s Set-back. Merriwell’s Search. Merriwell’s Club. Merriwell’s Trust. Merriwell’s False Friend. Merriwell’s Strong Arm. Merriwell as Coach. Merriwell’s Brother. Merriwell’s Marvel. Merriwell’s Support. 440—Dick Merriwell at Fardale. 443—Dick Merriwell’s Glory. 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—F rank Merriwell’s Winners. 479—Dick Merriwell’s Dash. 482—Dick Merriwell’s Ability. PRICE, FIFTEEN: CENTS. 485—Dick 488—Dick Merriwell’s Trap. Merriwell’s Defense. 491—Dick Merriwell’s Model. 494—Dick Merriwell’s Mystery. 497—Frank Merriwell’s Backers. 500—Dick Merriwell’s Backstop. 503—Dick Merriwell’s Western Mission. 506—Frank Merriwell’s Rescue. 509—F rank Merriwell’s Encounter. 512—Dick Merriwell’s Marked Money. 515—Frank Merriwell’s Nomads. 518—Dick Merriwell on the Gridiron. 521—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. 539—Dick Merriwell’s Assurance. 542—Dick Merriwell’s Long Slide. 545—Frank Merriwell’s Rough Deal. 548—Dick Merriwell’s Threat. 551—Dick Merriwell’s Persistence. 554—Dick Merriwell’s Dad. 557—Frank Merriwell’s Peril. 560—Dick Merriwell’s Downfall. 563—Frank Merriwell’s Pursuit. 566—Dick Merriwell Abroad. 569—-Frank Merriwell in the Rockies. 572—Dick Merriwell’s Pranks. Published About July 5th. 575—Frank Merriwell’s Pride. Published About July 26th. 578—Frank Merriwell’s Challengers. Published About August 16th. 581—Frank Merriwell’s Endurance. Published About Sept. 6th. 584-—Dick Merriwell’s Cleverness. Published About Sept. 27th. 587—Frank Merriwell’s Marriage. STREET & SMITH, Publishers, NEW YORK CITY