Issued Weekly. By subscription $2.50per year. Entered as Second-class Matter at the N. Y. Post Office, by STREET & SMITH, 79-89 Seventh Ave. N. ¥.

No. 533 NEW YORK,

, JUNE 30, 1906. Price, Five Cents

As Dick struck Saul the slugger out, there was another outburst from the crowd, and suddenly the air
was filled with missles of all sorts, which whistled about the ears of the visiting players.

 
 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Issued Weekly. By subscription $2.50 per year.

Entered as Second-class Matter at the N. Y. Post Office, by STREET & SMITH, 79-89 Seventh Avenue,

N.Y. Entered according to Act of Congress in the year 1906, in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, Washington, D. C.

 

NEW YORK, June 30, 1906.

Price Five Cents.

 

K MERRIWELL’S SUMMER TEAM

OR,

BASEBALL IN THE BLUE HILLS.

By BURT L. STANDISH.

~

CHAPTER. 1
A BIT OF HISTORY.

The Blue Hills were well named. For miles and
_ miles they could be seen piled purple and blue against
_ the horizon. They were heavily wooded with ever-
_ green and deciduous trees. The roads leading through
them were little more than rough trails. Set like
jewels amid the valleys of these hills were forty small
silvery lakes. Anyway, the advertisements of the
-Madawaska House and the Silver Springs Hotel gave
_ the number of lakes as forty. It is true that many
of these lakes were connected by winding waterways
which could be traversed by boat or canoe. These
connections practically turned nearly half the forty

lakes into one lake with many ramifications.
For years it had been known that the balmy atmos-
phere of the pine-clad Blue Hills was soothing to weak
‘lungs and restfully regenerating for tired nerves.
Many an invalid had been restored to health while so-
ourning amid those hills. In autumn the hunter
nd the hills a favorite resort. The lakes were filled

with fish, and the woods with game. Occasionally a
timid deer was seen.
On the border of the hills lay the little village of.
Slabtown. Slabtown was practically owned by a lum-
berman who had bought miles and miles of valuable —
timberland, which his two sawmills were rapidly
turning into lumber. It was a rough place with a
rough-and-ready collection of citizens. ‘

In the heart of the hills, reached by the crudest sort
of a road, was Pineville, a little place of half a dozen —
cabins and cottages and one huge rambling log build- |
ing known as the Pine Tree Inn. This inn was the
original hotel health resort of the hills. At first the
proprietor made money readily, but it was not long
before other enterprising hotel men realized the possi

bilities of profit in their business if elaborately con-

ducted amid the hills.

In a single season two large modern hotels sprang
up, one at Lake Madawaska and the other at Silver
Springs. The first was known as the ee
House, the second as the Silver Springs Hotel.

 
 

aid

bit Siiak aS Dahil Ma sk pL ocak As

Po

 

2 TIP TOP WEEKLY.

with the outside world, and one of these roads passed

within a mile of Pineville.

On the second season after the opening of these
hotels it was impossible for guests to find accommo-
dations at either resort without giving notice at least
a month in advance. The Blue Hills became popular
with wealthy recreationers. The weary city man, who
had been able to find little real rest at the beach or at
the ordinary mountain resort, discovered what he
sought at Lake Madawaska or Silver Springs. At
either hotel he could enjoy all the comforts and luxu-
ries of an up-to-date hostelry; yet it was possible for
him to stroll away and lose himself in the midst of a
primeval forest in five minutes’ time.

For these guests there was such sport as fishing and
“mountain-climbing” already provided by | nature.
Tennis-courts and croquet-grounds were made, but it
remained for the enterprising proprietor of the Mada-
waska House to lay out the first baseball-field and or-
ganize a nine from his force of employees, which team
entertained the guests by playing occasional games
against picked-up clubs of visitors.

This was the beginning of baseball in the Blue Hills.
Silver Springs was not slow in following suit. The
manager of the Silver Springs Hotel engaged a num-
ber of young college men as waiters and took pains to
see that all could’ play baseball. Then Silver Springs
challenged Madawaska and won a victory.

In short order the rivalry became warm, and it was
not long before it grew decidedly hot. Benjamin
Brace, of the Madawaska House, did not propose to
be outdone, and it was said that he spent considerable
money on the ball-team, with the result that Madawas-
ka secured the championship of the hills.

In the meantime things were happening at Pine-
ville. The construction of the two modern hotels had
given the Pine Tree Inn a setback. Few people cared
to sleep on straw mattresses, wash their faces in a tin
basin and eat off an oilcloth-covered table when it was
possible to have “all the comforts of home” at Mada-
waska and Silver Springs, even though those comforts
might cost double or triple the Pineville rates.

The Pine Tree Inn lost money. The proprietor be-
came disheartened and improved the first opportunity
to sell out toa new man. The new man was regarded
as a “sucker.” His name was Silas Springer, and his
only experience in the hotel aie had been acquired
at a country tavern.

Nevertheless Silas had some ideas of his own, and
he proceeded to put them into execution. He scoured
the country in search of antiques and relics. He
bought and repaired old furniture of all kinds. The
older it was, the better he liked it. Chair, dressers,
bedsteads, queer bookcases, and old-fashioned clocks
brought a good price with Silas.

Every piece of old furniture had a history, or a
history was manufactured for it. The chair in which
Benedict Arnold sat when making his compact with
Major Andre was there! The bedstead on which Sir
Henry Clinton had slept during the occupation of

  

Philadelphia was there! The very clock about which
Longfellow wrote his immortal poem stood on the first
landing of the main stairs of Pine Tree Inn! John
Hancock’s writing-table was a piece of ornamental
furniture in the office!

But Springer did not stop with the furnishings of
the house. Every article of ornament was an antique
with a history. On the walls were autograph letters
of Washington, Jefferson, and others. The pictures
and ornaments were old-fashioned and curious. Old
candlesticks, old pewter mugs, and old brassware could
be seen in profusion.

And Ethan Allen’s sword—-the sword ‘of Ticon-
deroga—hung above the dining-room door!

Such floors as were carpeted at all were covered with
old rag carpets, and even those had histories.

‘The new proprietor did not make the mistake of in-
stalling an electric-lighting plant and putting in run-
ning hot and cold water, but he did build several bath-
rooms. Instead of employing a modern chef, he en-
gaged two capable cooks who could get up appetizing
country dishes.

Some one suggested to him that he would find it
necessary to lower his rates in order to compete with
the fine hotels; but Silas had a different idea, and he
proceeded to put up his rates until they -were higher
than either the Madawaska House or the Silver
Springs Hotel.

Then he advertised, and his advertising was clever,
to say the least. He told the public of a place to enjoy
the old-fashioned comforts of grandfather’s time. He
artfully referred to the many curious attractions of the
Pine Tree Inn. He called it, “A home, not a hotel.”

The result was surprising to every one except Silas
Springer. Business opened fairly good under Spring-
er’s management, and it increased steadily. People
who visited the place once felt a desire to come again.
They went away and talked about it to other people,
and these other people were absorbed by curiosity to
have a look at the place. It was not long before the
inn was thriving and Silas was smiling. Occasionally
people from the finer hotels came over to Pineville for
an old-fashioned dinner at the inn. In more than one
instance these curious visitors cut short their visits at
the Silver Springs or the Madawaska House and spent
the remainder of their vacation time at Pineville.- —

“By jolly!” said Silas, “if business keeps up, Til
have to build an addition onto this shebang.”

“Why don’t you organize a baseball-team and beat
Madawaska and Silver Springs?” suggested some one.

“Lordy me!” exclaimed Silas. “I don’t know nuth-
in’ abaout baseball. I don’t think it’s worth while
botherin’ with it.” ,

“You'd get lots of free advertising through a base-
ball-team if you had a good one,” was the assurance.

“Er-hum!” coughed the landlord, his shrewd eyes
brightening. “I don’t jest see haow.”

“Why,” was the explanation, “you know all these

games between Madawaska and Silver Springs are re-
ported in the city papers.

Hundreds of people read

 

 

  
 

 

around.

Hae ewe

those reports and are attracted by them. Although
summer visitors pretend they are looking for rest, the
most of them like an occasional bit of excitement to
vary the monotony, and a good baseball-game satisfies
that craving. You’d better have a team here.”

“T’ll think abaout it,” said Silas.

He did think about it, and one day he decided to try
it. Then he went down to Wellsburg and gathered
up a lot of players, using his own judgment in his se-
lection. The Pineville Nine was organized and chal-
lenged Silver Springs and Madawaska.

In the game against Silver Springs Pineville was
beaten by a score of 27 to 2. Madawaska rubbed it in
still deeper by trimming Springer’s team 1g to o.

Silas discharged his players.

Instead of becoming discouraged, however, he made
a resolution.

“By golly,” he cried, “I’ll have a baseball-team next
year that’ll knock the everlasting stuffin’ outer them
fellers!”

And here Cap’n Wiley appears on the scene.

 

CHAPTER HII.
A THRILLING NIGHT ADVENTURE.

It was late autumn, and genuinely cold weather had
set in. A few guests lingered at the Pine Tree Inn,
but they were mostly sportsmen from the cities. The
wind was moaning in the valleys and making a sound
amid the tree tops like the rushing of swift water.
Night had settled down, and in the big combination
sitting-room and office in the inn the lingering guests
gathered about a huge stone fireplace, in which crackled
and roared a royal fire. They were smoking and swap-
ping hunting yarns.

Springer, a little wiry man with chin whiskers and

a shrewd eye, came in rubbing his hands and stood up
Ste the fireplace, with his coat tails liftéd and his
back turned to the blaze.

“She’s goin’ ter be a nipper ter-night, folks,” he ob-
served. “Wouldn’t wonder’n we had snow ter-mor-
rer. Water froze round the edges of Spoon Lake last
night, and she’ll skim over ter-night if there ain’t too
much wind.”

“Think Pll get out in the morning,” grunted a big
fat man, who was lolling on a chair while he puffed at
a long cigar. “T’ve been sort of holding back in hopes
of getting a crack at the big buck that nobody seems
able to bag.”

“That critter has a charmed life!” snapped a
nervous little man, sitting bolt upright and glaring
“T’ve seen him three times and fired at

him twice. Never missed a deer before in my life, but
I don’t believe I even touched him.”

“How many deer have you ever shot, Mr. Roberts?”
inquired the fat man, as he turned his head and
looked the nervous individual square in the face.
“Oh, I don’t suppose I’ve killed more than five or six
—I haven’t kept count,”

was the answer. “I ought

WEEKLY. 3

to had that buck. He came out into the clearing and
stopped with his left side toward me, a-sniffing the air.
I had lots of time, and I fired at his head.”

“Fired at his head, did ye?” grinned a tall man.
“Had a good chance to nail him in his left shoulder
and fired at his head! And you claim you’ve killed
five or six deer? Do you always fire at their heads?”

“Tf you can hit any creature in the brain, that’s the
surest way of killing it,” declared the nervous man.

Several of the others chuckled and exchanged winks.

“Chentlemen,”’ said a Jew, proceeding to butt into
the conversation, “I vill agree dat der buck must have
a sharmed life. I vired at him myself, und I aimed
vairly at der middle of his body.”

“You two fellers ought to hunt together,’ observed
the tall man. ‘‘Mebbe you’d succeed in shooting each
other, and then the woods would be safer for the rest
of us.”

At this juncture the outside door was flung open
with great violemce, and a small, stocky, swarthy indi-
vidual leaped in, slamming the door behind him.

“Oh, dear! dear!” he palpitated, pretending to wipe
perspiration from his face. “Talk about Fourth-of-July
weather—this evening is somewhat warmer! How do
you do, mates. Mind not at all my seeming appear-
ance of agitation. or the last half-mile I’ve been
merely touching the high places. Out yonder in the
somber depths of the primeval forest I collided with
a most exciting adventure. As I was ambling indus-
triously along the trail, with my weather eye open for
a light that would guide me into port, I suddenly
found myself confronted by a huge and terrible ap-
parition. Before me in the path stood a grim and
terrible shape, with eyes of fire and a breath like that
of a blast-furnace. Under ordinary circumstances I
have nerves of iron, and a heart of stone. I must ad-
mit, gentlemen, nevertheless, also, and likewise, that
coming thus abruptly on this awesome shape my nerves
gave an agitated twitch and my heart turned a flip-
flop. I dropped my valise, containing remnants of a
small fortune amounting to ninety-seven thousand dol-
lars, and promptly yanked forth a ready reference in
the shape of a revolver. It was all the weapon of
defense I had at the critical moment. Taking careful
aim at one of those fiery eyes, I proceeded to pull the
trigger, and my pistol promptly vomited fire and lead.
The first flash showed me what I was up against.
There before me stood the biggest buck deer it has -
ever been my fortune to behold with these ravishing
eyes.” |
“The big buck! “The big buck!” exclaimed several
of the listeners.

“Yea, verily, he was of enormous amplitude,”
nodded the stranger. “I know I hit him, for at the
first discharge he gave a mighty bound into the air,
which carried him, in my imagination, at least, nearly
to the tree tops. While he was thus elevated above
the earth, and before he came down again, I dodged
beneath him and proceeded to move on in this direc-

tion. After getting started I kept moving, for that — a

 

 

 
  

4

 

buck was highly incensed, and he promptly took up
the chase with great zest. His hoofs rattled over the
road like castanets in the hands of a Spanish dancer.
Once or twice I realized that my pursuer was right
upon me, and I nearly gave myself up as lost. At least
once I am certain the beast would have overtaken me,
but a furious blast from its nostrils fairly lifted me
from the ground like a cyclone and carried me onward
for fully forty yards before my Trilbys once more
lightly touched the tanbark.

“Mates, did any of you ever pray in a great hurry?
I’ve offered up more than one yearning supplication
under the spur of the moment, but I don’t/hink I ever
prayed in such a hurry as I did while that fearsome
creature was pursuing my fluttering coat tails. Im-
agine with what joy my painfully throbbing heart
greeted a gleam of a light from the window of this
caravansary. I fully realized that a wounded buck
deer is a terrible and bloodthirsty beast, even more
ferocious than a man-eating tiger or a carniverous
grizzly bear. I tell you I was running so fast that
the snapping of my coat tails behind me sounded like
a Continuous volley of musketry. Good fortune and a
good pair of legs saved me, for here I am, and that
murderous beast is somewhere outside in the bleak
darkness of this autumn night. Do you wonder that
I am perspiring? Do you wonder that my blood is
somewhat overheated? It was one of the narrowest
escapes of my adventurous career, and I have a hun-
dred times looked grim death in the optic without the
tremor of a facial muscle.”

As the speaker finished his thrilling tale the door
opened again, and a wonderfully tall and a wonder-
fully thin man, with an amazingly small head and an
amazingly long neck came in. This was Bijah Stump,
hostler and man of all work about the Pine Tree Inn.
As soon as Bijah saw Springer in front of the open
fireplace he cried in a shrill, high-pitched, cackling
voice :

_ “Say, boss, that caff we lost yesterday has come

back home! The critter jest turned up round at the
barn, and I'll be gol dinged if somebody ain’t been
peppering away at it with some sort of shootin’-iron,
for it had been hit in the head and was all bleeding!”

This produced a great roar of laughter from the
assembled men.

“There’s your big buck, Mr. Fastrunner!” chuckled
the fat man. “That’s the awesome and terrible crea-
ture you banged away at with your popgun! You
may surely congratulte yourself on your narrow escape
from death!”

“Been shootin’ at my pet caff, have ye?” said Silas
Springer. “Waal, if you’ve injured that caff, gaul

dinged if you don’t have to pay for it!”

“Hush! breathed the stranger, with an uplifted
hand. “Speak not thus harshly unto me. Tell me not
in rude.and unfeeling language that I have nearly run
my gizzard out in escaping from a sosset calf.”

“That’s jest abaout what you done,” said Springer.
“Do you cal’late the caff is hurt serious, Bijah?” .

 

 

TIP TOP WEEKLY.

«eT

“Well, I can’t jest tell, boss,” answered Stump. “1
guess you'd better come out and see.”

“If you’ve mortally injured my caff,” declared the
proprietor of the Pine Tree Inn, again glaring at the
newcomer, “‘it’ll cost you eleven dollars, at least.”

“T maintain and assert,” said the stranger, “that you
have no right to permit a vicious pet calf to prowl
recklessly through these forests. Your calf has given
me a severe case of nervous prostration, and at this
moment I require the services of a skilled physician.
My doctor’s bills are liable to be heavy indeed, and it
seems to me that you, sir, are in for a damage suit.”

Then the swarthy little man coolly deposited himself
on a chair near the corpulent guest, to whom he ob-

served, sotto voce:
“T think that will hold him for awhile.”

 

CHAPTER III.
THE SAILOR SPINS A YARN.

Springer and Stump went out to look after the
wounded calf. The new arrival regarded the fat man’s
half-smoked cigar with longing eyes.

“Excuse me, mate,” he said. “If you happen to
have another Perfecto in your jeans, would you mind
letting me hold it in my dainty fingers for awhile? If
you haven’t any, you might lend me a whiff or two
off that one. Whenever the planetary nerve of my
dorsal vertebrae is overagitated it demands the sooth-
ing influence of nicotine to restore it to its normal con-
dition. I never smoke anything but the finest cigars,
which I purchase in quantities at two dollars and
fifty cents a hundred. By the pleasing odor of that
weed I should say I might survive the smoking of
one.”

“T like your cheek!” said the corpulent guest.

“Thanks awfully. I’m glad you like it. I’ve taken
a great deal of pains with that cheek. I’ve had it
massaged and steamed and treated with cold cream,
wich-hazel, rose-water, vaseline, and benzine. Are
you aware that benzine is one of the finest beautifiers
known to the human intelligence? Why, it makes
the user thereof almost angelic in his ravishing beauty.
I know one man it did make angelic. He used to take
a bath in benzine every morning. One morning he
dropped a lighted match in the bath-tub, and he hasn’t
benzine since.”

“If you won’t do that again, I’ll give you a cigar,”
said the fat man, as he fished in his pocket and handed
one over.

“Graciously accept my thanks, most munificent one,”’
said the newcomer, as he seized the weed and bit off
the end. “Now if some one will lend me the use of
a match, I’ll be comfortably fixed for a pacific and sa-
lubrious evening. As the gray light of to-morrow’s
dawn creeps over these hills I shall sally forth in search
of my valise, which contains the remnants of that nine-
ty-seven thousand dollars. If ] remember correctly, 1

ia Tate

 
 

 

ere

 

sob.

TIP TOP WEEKLY. 5

have thirty-one cents, a suit of pajamas, two hand-

* kerchiefs, and a baseball-mitt in that valise.”’

Springer returned from the barn.

“It’s mighty lucky for you,” he said, “but I guess
you didn’t hurt that caff a great deal. Them bullets
kinder glanced off from its skull, and I expect the poor
critter will survive. What’s your name?”

“What’s in a name?’ murmured the stranger. “A
limburger cheese by any other name would smell as
sweet. On most occasions I prefer traveling incog-
nishio. Excuse these bits of Latin and French and
Spanish which trip unawares from my talented tongue.
I have a great command of slanguage. If I were to
tell you my name, you all would be overcome with
awe, for you would then realize that you were in the
presence of one of the high muck a-mucks of the earth.
Permit me, I beseech you, to hold this great secret
locked in my manly bosom. -What? Is it possible
you insist? Oh, very well, then. I am the renowned
and far-famed Cap’n Wiley, known everywhere
throughout the length and breadth of the United
States, Belgium, Denmark, Turkey, Greece, and New
Jersey. Don’t gasp. Don’t faint. For goodness
sake, don’t bow down in admiration!”

“I don’t think I ever heerd of ye,” said Silas.

“Impossible! impossible! It must be you’re not the
possessor of a retentive memory. You've heard of
me, but you’ve forgotten.”

Bijah, the hired man, now reappeared, carrying his
old hat in his hands. The hat was filled with hens’
eggs.

“I faound three nests, boss,” he explained. “Lucky
I did, for every one of ’em would ’a’ friz before morn-
ing. It’s going to be pretty cold for them hens ter-
night. We'll have to batten up the new hen-house ter-
morrer.”

“Eggs?” said Cap'n Wiley, with something like a
“Real eggs? Ah! they bring up tender mem-
ories of my career as a predestigator on the stage.

“You know I’ve been actor and traveling magician
in my time. I’ve appeared in all the large places from
Kalamazoo to Oshkosh. It was out in Oshkosh that
the enthusiastic public, having no loose change in their
pockets, rose up in a body and gave me eggs. They
were so excited and careless in making the presenta-
tion of those eggs that they cast them recklessly upon
the stage, and not a few of them were fractured upon
my person. Some of those eggs were older than the
mother-in-law joke. I am certain that fully half of
them dated back to the time of the deluge.

“But speaking about hens and cold weather reminds

_me of my own experience in conducting a hennery.

I've been into almost every industry and diversion
that promised remuneration and profit. Once on a
time [ owned a magnificent and luxurious hennery and
a tender brood of some seven hundred and forty hens,
not to mention a few roosters. You know I’ve always
regarded it as cruel and unfeeling to rear hens in an

ordinary unlieated hen-house. The poor creatures suf-

 

fer a great deal in cold weather. During the first
winter jof,my hen venture I became aware that my
Plymouth Rocks and Leghorns were enduring more
or less discomfort on account of the low temperature.
That was one of the coldest winters ever known in the
good old State of Maine, which I am proud to claim as
my native heath. The thermometer ran down a great
deal lower than conversation in a South Boston bar-
room, and that is generally low enough. My tender
heart was touched and distressed. I knew I’d got to
do something for the bodily comfort of my hens. The
biddies had not been laying for some time, and, there-
fore, my pocketbook was in a sadly neglected condi-
tion. I shamefully confess I didn’t have money enough
to buy lumber to batten up the cracks in my hen-
house. Under these circumstances I sat down one eve-
ning with the determination to solve the mighty prob-
lem before me.

“You may not be aware of it, mates, but once on a
time I studied medicine. I spent nearly a week as cook
and man of all work with a physician in Camden,
Maine. During that period I found out all the doctor
knew and a great many things he didn’t wish me to
know. With this fund of medical knowledge seeth-
ing in my colossal brain, I proceeded to invent what
I called the Anti-frigidity Hen Pill. I made up a
peck of these Anti-frigidity Pills about the size of
ordinary peas,,and on the following day I fed them
to my hens, taking pains to see that each pullet ob-
tained at least one pill.

“Gentlemen, I hope you’ll not be overcome with sur-

prise when I tell you the result of this treatment.
Those hens became just about the hottest things that
ever happened. They went round panting and pal-
pitating and perspiring copiously on the coldest days
while the mercury was trying to creep out of the bot-
tom of the tube. As one hen, they chose the north side
of any shelter they could find and continued to perspire
until old Boreas blew his brazen blasts. Whenever
one of those hens happened by accident to get out into
the sunshine she promptly uttered a squawk and struck
for a shady spot.

“Not only did my Anti-frigidity Pills warm up the
hens, but they set them to producing eggs at a hilarious
rate of speed. Some of those hens worked indus-
triously almost night and day laying eggs. There
was, however, one unpleasant feature about this. In-

stead of depositing their eggs in the nests built for

them in the hennery, the hens invariably sought a
snowdrift or an ice cake on which to squat. This kept
me on the jump gathering up the eggs, for I found that
they would freeze in a very few moments if left thus
exposed to the cold. I worked like a beaver the first
day, and even then I lost somewhat less than ten
thousand dollars’ worth of eggs. It was necessary to
employ two assistants, and we began to fear that
we would be overcome by our exertions if the business
kept up. Tired? On my voracious word, we were so
tired at the end of the third day that it was necessary
to attach sticking-plaster to our eyelids and hitch theng

 
  

6

 

ip to our eyebrows in order to keep us from going
to sleep while we worked around picking up eggs.

“On the fourth day the weather took a change. The
thermometer gradually crept up to zero, and I ob-
served that my hens were becoming prostrated with
the excessive heat. By the time the murcury in the
tube indicated eight above zero those hens took to
dying off. They couldn’t stand the temperature. They
began dropping down, one after another, like human
beings overcome by sunstroke. In vain I prayed for
colder weather. The thermometer kept on rising,
and when she got up to fifteen above the mortality
among those hens was simply horrible to witness.

“Excuse these few pearly tears. In one day I lost
my entire brood of biddies. To the last mortal one
they died from the excessive heat while the thermom-
eter still registered something below twenty.”

 

CHAPTER IV.

WILEY’S WOLF-HENS.

All through this yarn Bijah Stump had stood, hold-
ing his hat with both hands, staring at the sailor, his
lower jaw drooping. Occasionally his prominent
Adam’s apple took an excursion up and down his long

. neck. As the sailor finished Bijah gurglingly splut-

tered:

“Well, Dll be gol dinged!’’

“My dear sir,” said the corpulent man, “I’m afraid
you're given to exaggeration.”

Wiley cast a resentful look at the speaker.

“It’s ever thus,” he sighed. “Since the days of my
innocent youth on Nigger Island I’ve continually been
suspected of prevarication. Yet no one in this wide,
wide world loves the truth with such soul-absorbing,
devoted affection as little Walter. My dear sylph-
like friend, you have hurt me to the heart.”

“°Tain’t right to hurt a feller’s feelin’s that way,”
said Bijah. “By ginger! I wish I knowed haow to
manufacture them Anti-frigid Pills. I s’pose if you’d
made them pills milder and not so strong, they’d
worked all right.”’

“Indeed you’re eminently correct,’ nodded the cap-
tain. “My fatal mistake was in manufacturing those
pills with such copious strength.

“That, however, was only one of my little experi-
ments with hens. My lamented brood had supplied
me with enough eggs to leave me in comfortable cir-
cumstances when the fruit was marketed. I decided
not to be baffled by adverse fate. JI bought another lot
of hens and continued in the business. Now it hap-
pened that I had a neighbor who was also a hen en-
thusiast. His hobby was game chickens, and I will
admit that he reared a bunch of extremely proficient
scrappers. Why, one of his half-grown game roosters
would make no bones at all of whipping a turkey.
When the balmy springtime set in my hens and my
neighbor’s hens began to get up against each other.
As a result I discovered a few of my most valuable

 

dif TOR WEEKLY:

pullets in a sadly battered and tattered condition. Oc-
casionally one was killed. After a week or two of this
my hens got so they wouldn’t venture across their own.
threshold for fear of meeting my neighbor’s chicks.
They were the most timid biddies you ever saw. Just
say ‘shoo’ to them, and the whole bunch would flee to
the recesses of the hennery, squawking with alarm.

“T proceeded to expostulate with my neighbor, but
he gave me the coarse and unfeeling ha-ha. He hurt
my feelings and grieved me exceedingly. He told me
to keep my hens at home, but he made no attempt to
keep his at home. His feathered fowls strayed wher-
ever they listed. They came over into my yard and
ate my corn and scratched up my flower-beds and
stuffed themselves with bugs and worms which were
the rightful property of my own hens.

“I realized that something strenuous must be done.
Again a mighty problem confronted me. Again I sat
me down to meditation.

“Now it happened that out in Colorado I had a
one-time bosom comrade, who was employed in the
somewhat questionable industry of wolf-herding.
You know there’s a bounty on wolf scalps in Colorado.
This friend had a pack of several hundred wolves and
was doing a thriving business. I wrote him the facts
concerning my trouble, and by return express he
shipped me a liberal supply of wolf virus. With this
virus I proceded to inonculate my hens. I spent an en-
tire day vaccinating those peaceful pullets. The effect
was surprising, to say the least.

“On the first day I saw little result from my work,

but on the second my hens began to behave in a man- |

ner quite unnatural for them. When they were let
out in the morning they proceeded to stroll forth with
their heads up and their feathers bristling, while there
was a glint of fire in their eyes.

“Now it happened that my neighbor was leaning on
his back fence, smoking his pipe as he watched his
game chickens preambulating proudly on my pre-
serves. I saw him take his pipe out of his mouth and
survey my hens with an expression of surprise as they
pranced forth into the open air.

“What followed was highly interesting to me, not
to say amusing. It was also interesting for my neigh-
bor, although I don’t believe it amused him so much.
As soon as my hens saw their natural enemies they
promptly uttered a cackling chorus of challenge, and
in less time than it takes to tell it there was a general
battle in progress. My biddies met the enemy more
than half-way, and the style in which they sailed into
those game chickens was simply magnificent. In about
three minutes the air was so full of feathers that it
looked like an. old-fashioned snow-storm. Fight?
Why, those wolf-hens could fight worse than bulldogs.
The battle lasted about six or eight minutes, and as
the smoke cleared away I perceived that the ground
was plentifully bestrewed with game hens, while not
one of my chicks had been seriously damaged. Ina
short time it was all over, and the only ones of my
neighbor’s brood to escape were those who took flight

Vad

2 ig aac toute

 

 

 

 

 
 

 

 

 

Tip. TOP

in time, and even they were pursued to the very
threshold of their own hen-house.

“Mates, I had the proudest, savagest bunch of hens
you ever set your peepers on. They just strutted
around and cackled and crowed and hollared glory
hallelujah until they were hoarse. My neighbor was
both agitated and angry. He proceeded to put down
his pipe, peel off his coat and come over to see me.
He announced his intention of knocking various kinds
of stuffing out of me. I warned him to keep away. I
even, threatened to set my hens on him. He didn't
realize his danger until he had pitched into me. About
the time he drew off to swat me on the kisser my
biggest rooster let out a war-cry and went for him on
the jump. That war-cry was answered by the whole
flock of hens, and they’ made a united charge on my
antagonist. They didn’t wait to get at him in the or-
dinary manner, but they just sailed right through the
air and fell on him all spraddled out. Thirty seconds
later he was legging it for his house as fast as his Tril-
bys would carry him, and when he burst in at the door
he had my biggest rooster hanging to his left ear and
chewing industriously.

“After the door slammed behind my late belligerent
antagonist there was great confusion within the house.
You see that rooster had hung on and was shut up in-
side. JI heard a terrific crash and smash of furniture,
punctured with occasional howls of’ distress. My
neighbor’s cat came flying out through the window,
catrying away, sash and glass. A moment later the
cat was followed by his brindle bull pup, and the dog
had its tail between its legs. The cat climbed a tree,
and the dog made for the nearest patch of woods,
where it hid and remained concealed until dark.

“After literally wrecking the interior of that room
and forcing my unfortunate neighbor to hide beneath
the sink, the rooster flew forth from the-broken win-
dow, only pausing on the sill to utter a crow of
triumph. ’

“T tell you I was a well-satisfied man. I was just as
proud as a spring peacock. I knew I wouldn’t have
any more trouble on account of the trespassing of those
game hens.

“The fame of my wolf-hens rapidly spread abroad,
and curious people came to see them. Somehow my
hens resented the curiosity of the populace, and they
seemed to grow madder and madder every time any-
body came around to look them over. ‘They literally
wandered up and down, round and about in search of
something to whip. They tackled dogs and cats re-
gardlessly, and in every instance they were victorious.
Matters grew worse and worse, however, for when
no longer cats and dogs ventured around to provide
fighting diversion for my hens, those biddies proceeded
to go out on the war-path and attack cows and horses.
I believe, gentlemen, they would have unhesitatingly
gone up against panthers and lions. They did tackle
human beings, and it was not long before I became the
only person who could venture anywhere near them.

“Still, the thirst for gore seemed growing upon

WEEKLY. >

them, and it was not long before I found them regard-
ing me with malicious and vindicative eyes. When my
big rooster would walk up to me and look me in the
face as if he longed to bite a piece out of me just to
see how I tasted, I couldn’t repress a shudder of alarm.
I realized that some day those hens were going to
break loose and massacre me. It was necessary to do
something to quell them. Once more I meditated. As
a result of my meditation I decided on a new course
of treatment. I got out my squirt-gun and went to
work innoculating those hens with lambs’ blood. I
believed that this would offset the vicious influence of
the wolf virus in their veins.

“Now comes the most pitiful part of my sad story.
You see the wolf corpuscles in those hens were so
vicious, so fierce and savage, that the moment the
lambs’ blood corpuscles were injected into the hens
there was something doing. The wolf corpuscles be-
gan pursuing the lamb corpuscles around through the
hens, and in order to find a place of refuge the lambs’
corpuscles retreated to the heads of the poor creatures.
Even then the wolf corpuscles declined to be satisfied
and pursued the lamb’s corpuscles in a body. As 2
result there was a terrific rush of blood to the heads
of the hens, and they all died from congestion of the
brain. In this manner I lost my second flock.

“Will some one kindly lend me a handkerchief?
I’m going to weep once more.”

CHAPTER V.
A WONDERFUL BASEBALL INDUSTRY.

Bijah Stump had been holding his breath. He now
caught it with a gasp and a gurgle, which caused his
Adam’s apple to perform strange and convulsive evolu-
tions up and down his long neck.

“Well, I'll be diddledy gol dinged!” spluttered Bi-
jah. “I never heerd of such a thing as that in my born
days!”

Every one roared—every one except Cap’n Wiley.
The captain actually seemed affected unto tears. As
no one had offered him a handkerchief, he tenderly
wiped his eyes on his coat sleeves, regarding Bijah with
a look of absolute affection. Here, at least, was some
one who believed him. Here was a human being who
had no doubt as to his veracity.

“Tt was a most remarkable case, my dear sir,” mur-
mured the marine marvel. “It was something never
before recorded in the annals of hen history. 1 made a
thorough and accurate report of it, which I furnished
to the Farm and Home, where it was published in full,
making such a furrow of excitement throughout the
hen owners of the country and raising such a whirl-
wind of discussion and contention that I finally found
myself overwhelmed and swamped by a perfect ava-
lanche of inquiring letters. I was compelled to en-
gage two private secretaries to answer my voluminous
correspondence. (l’ve been endeavoring for an hour
  

3 Whe eke

 

to find occasion or excuse to use that word volumin-
ous. )””

Cap’n Wiley had established himself at Pine Tree
Inn. The guests stared at him with admiring eyes,
for never before had any of them met a man with such
a vivid and fertile imagination.

“All these things were very interesting, sir,” said
the corpulent guest, “but it seems that you had ev-
ceeding hard luck.”’

“I was born to hard luck, mate,” sighed Wiley.
“I’ve passed through many of the vocarious vicissi-
tudes of this mortal existence. -At times I’ve had my
jeans stuffed to’ overflowing with juicy long green
bank-notes, but on every. occasion my wealth has
melted like sparkling diamond _dewdrops before the
scorching rays of a Sahara sun.’

“I suppose you gave up the hen business after the
loss of your second brood?” inquired the nervous
guest.

“Suppose me no supposition!” cried the captain.
“T’m aman of great determination and iron will. In-
stead of giving up the hen business, I was encouraged
to continue in it and to experiment still further. I
had heard of a certain breed of Shanghais which were
very intelligent, and I decided that my next flock
should be Shanghais. In the course of a few passing
months I gather ed a small but choice aggregation of
the finest and highest-bred Shanghais in this or any
other country.. Why, mates, those hens were so al-
mighty knowing that they could almost talk. When
I appeared in the morning they used to line up in mili-
tary formation and salute me. They were commanded
by a huge old rooster, who stood about three feet in
his stockings. Oh, he was a bird!

“As soon as I discovered the talent of my new hens
for form, order, and military precision, I began to
drill them regularly every day. It was a beautiful
sight to see those hens march forth from the hennery
in solid flanks, wheel to. the right like West Pointers
and go strutting away toward the worm field. You
known, gentlemen, that when a body of hens start in
on a patch of land to scratch it up, they can do just
about as much turf agitation as may be accomplished
by a plow and a yoke of oxen. Well, on my word, in
a brief period of time I had those hens trained so that
they would plow and harrow an acre of land in the fi-
nest manner imaginable. I let them out regularly to
people who wished to do plowing and planting, and
my income from their industry was sublimely satis-
fying.

“I suppose I might be well fixed now if I’d con-
tinued sedately that line of business with my last flock

of hens. But I’m never satisfied with the mild and
prosaic. My mind soars aloft to grand and salubrious
heights. With the opening of the next baseball sea-

son I got a spasm of the fever, as usual, and precipi-
tated myself onto the diamond, where I did my usual
remarkable and awe-inspiring stunts. That year it

happened all the baseballs we could get hold of were
mighty poor stock. They seemed to be a lot of hold-

 

 

WEEKLY.

overs from the previous season, and by the time a ball

had been biffed four or five times with a bat the
stitches began to start, and the old thing got skewed
and: flattened and knocked out of commission gen-
erally. It was my custom in every game to thump out
two or three three-baggers and a home run. The balls
couldn’t stand up before such hammering, and the

dealers were reaping a rich harvest as a ‘natural re-.

sult.

“One balmy summer evening as I was comparing a
y £

fresh-laid Shanghai’s egg with a somewhat dilapidated
baseball and noting that the egg was fully as large if
not a trifle larger than the ball, I -was struck by a great
idea. The blow literally staggered little Walter.

“Perhaps some of you gentlemen remember. the
story about the man who fed his hens sawdust instead
of Indian meal, with the result that some of the eggs
which were incubated produced chickens with wooden
legs. If I remember correctly, one of those chickens,
which happened to have a bum wooden leg, came forth
from the shell all provided with a crutch. While medi-
tating on this strange phenomenon it occurred to me
that a hen which could lay such eggs might be edu-
cated to lay eggs of a different sort. Was it not pos-
sible, I speculated, by properly feeding a well-educated
hen to finally induce her to lay baseballs? If she could
be trained to lay baseballs at all, it would be a simple
matter to induce her to produce the finest and highest
grade of balls.”

Bijah Stump uttered a groan and staggered to a
chair, on which he fell, with one hand pressed to his
heart.

“Be careful, cap’n,” warned the stout guest,
may be responsible for a sudden death.” ole

“Don’t interrupt him!” implored Stump. “Let him
go on! My ginger, whoever heerd of such a thing!”

“T hope you're not troubled by doubts as to the truth
of my narrative?” cried Wiley, with an air of indigna-
tion. “I hope you don’t disbelieve me, sir?”

“Why, I never thought of it!” gasped Bijah. “Such
a thunk never entered my head.”

“Very good,” said the sailor, with a wave of his
hand. “I will continue my narrative. Having hit
upon this sublime idea, I secured a number of new
baseballs, called together my class of hens and dis-
sected the balls in their presence, showing them bit
by bit how those articles were manufactured for use.
I noted that several of the hens seemed puzzled and
bewildered, but there was one—the one who was
author of the large egg I recently mentioned—that im-
mediately set up a great cackling and squawking. As
plainly as possible she informed me that. she was onto
her job. She knew what I wanted. The next thing
was to provide her with the proper material to go
about her business. I bought up a lot of rubber and
twine and scraps of well-tanned horsehide.
ber I chopped into pieces adapted to mastication by a
hen. For a few days I fed the entire flock once a day
on these materials. With great eagerness and anxiety
I awaited the result.

9

“you

The rub-—

-

‘nsdiaaise

2 INE, A

 

 
 

 

 

  
  
  
  
  
   
   
    
  
 
 
  
  
 
   
  
    
  
 

air POP

“T think it was on the third day that one of my hens
produced an article that gave me a feeling of encour-
agement. It was some larger than an ordinary hen’s
egg, very nearly round, and was made up of the ma-
terials I had supplied. Unfortunately, the twine and
rubber and leather were all mixed up in a compact
mass which would hardly serve as a baseball.

“Once more I gathered my flock of hens and lec-
tured to them on the proper manner of putting to-
gether a baseball. I showed them that the rubber
should be used for the center of the ball, the twine to
be neatly and solidly wrapped about this rubber cen-
ter, with the horsehide covering handsomely stitched
on for the outside. |

“Five hours later my big Shanghai set up a mighty
shouting of triumph and called me forth from my
humble domicile. When I appeared the hen led me
to a nest, where I found a fairly good ball. But, to
my dismay, on testing it I discovered that it was
stitched with ordinary twine and therefore would not
stand any batting whatever without ripping. I had
forgotten to supply the hens with catgut thread for
the stitching. This was a great oversight on my part,
but I complimented the big hen, smoothed her feath-
ers, patted her on the head, and told her she was all
right. She was very proud and greatly encouraged.

“You may be sure, mates, that I lost no time in sup-
plying the article I had failed to provide in the first
place. After that the big hen started in turning out
At baseballs regularly every day. Nevertheless she
could only produce one a day, and this did not seem
wholy satisfactory to me. Of course there was a fairly
good profit in it, but I was looking for something big.
Unless the rest of the hens could get into the game,
my scheme would prove no more than a partial suc-
cess. Therefore I made a custom of calling the whole
flock around whenever the big hen produced an es-
pecially fine baseball and showing it to those hens as
an example of what I expected from them.

“In about a week I had the whole bunch at work,
and the way they turned out baseballs was something
to cause my diaphragm to palpitate with emotions too
deep for utterance. Those balls proved to be the finest
possible grade. Why, one of them would stand more
hard knocks than any five Spaldings ever made. Hav-
ing about fourteen or fifteen of these trained hens, I
secured on an average one dozen balls daily. At ten
dollars a dozen, this made a nice little profitable busi-
ness for me. :

“But now, alas, I come to another sad and sorrow-
ful point in the narrative of my hen experience. After
due time my big foreman of the flock decided it was
up to her to set. When a determined, strong-willed
hen makes up her mind to set, ice-water, shotguns, and
dynamite will not move her from her purpose. The
old lady carefully deposited about a dozen balls in a
secure spot and proceeded to squat on them. The rest
of the flock evidently believed it their duty to follow
her example, and as a result I had a fine collection
of setting hens.

  

f
WEEKLY. 9

“After vigorously expostulating and seeking strent-
ously to deter them from their purpose, I concluded
that the only way was to let them set it out until they
got good and tired and quit. But the big hen was no
quitter. I fancy she saw visions of hatching out a
whole brood of young baseballs, which would trot
round after her in true chicken fashion. The usual
hatching time passed, and still she stuck to those balls
as if glued there. Days lapsed into weeks, and weeks
were rapidly becoming months. The ball-playing sea-
son was passing, and I was unable to supply the de-
mand for my particular brand of baseballs. After a
time I fancied that the old hen was becoming dis-
couraged and downcast. Her feathers drooped, and
there was a sad, pathetic look in her eyes.

“One day the rest of the hens gave it up as a bad
job, but instead of resuming the production of balls,
without the inspiring example of their leader, they fell
back on the jumbled mass of twine and rubber and
horsehide. The things they turned out were no use
whatever. I was actually losing money on them, and
hour by hour, day by day, the old hen grew more de-
jected, downcast, and despondent. She refused to eat.
She refused to do anything but mope. Slowly, but
surely, she became weaker and more emaciated. Vainly
I tempted her with tender morsels of food. She de-
clined everything, and in the end she passed away,
having literally starved herself to death.

“With the demise of this marvelously intelligent hen
my business werit to pieces. The rest of the brood de-
clined to keep up the good work or were incapable of
doing so, and finally I was forced to feed them in the
usual manner in order for them to produce the regular
marketable sort of eggs.

“That’s all, mates. There’s no more to tell. I’ve
reached the conclusion, and the word finis is my finish.
This cigar is about evaporated in smoke, and I am
still hankering. Don’t every one offer me a cigar at
once.”

Nevertheless every one did. With one accord the
listeners produced cigars, which they thrust upon
the captain. Even Bijah brought forth a suspicious-
looking mottled cheroot, which he urged the sailor to
accept.

“You overcome me,” murmured Wiley, as he rap-
idly gathered them in and stowed them away in his
pockets. “Such munificence is touching in the ex-
tremest extremity.”

“Evidently you know something about baseball,
young man,” said Silas Springer. “Have you had
much experience in the game?”

“Ask me!” cried Wiley. “Experience? Why,
mate, I’ye had so much experience that it’s a wonder
I’m. alive to mention it. Is it possible you’ve never
heard of me? Is it possible you know nothing of
Cap’n Wiley, the great manager of the wonderful
Wind Jammers, who toured the country a few years
ago and ate up everything they could find to eat?
Why, we trimmed the Pittsburg Nationals, the New
Yorks, the Bostons, and every old professional teana

   
ag a TIP TOP WEEKLY —

_ that had the nerve to meet us. As a baseball-pitcher,

I’m one of the most radiant stars that ever scintillated.
As a baseball-manager—well, I can’t find words mod-
est enough to express just exactly what I am.”

“By beeswax!” cried the hotel proprietor. “I kin-
der guess you’re the feller I’m looking for! I’ve de-
cided to have a red-hot baseball-team right here in
Pineville next year. You know they’ve got a team
over at Silver Springs and another at Madawaska.

_ Them teams are composed of college fellers mostly,
and they do play a rippin’ good game of ball. I want
a ball-team here that can beat ’em all holler.”
“Fortune has smiled upon you, indeed!” cried the
marine marvel. “I’m just the man to give you what
you want. My vast and expansive acquaintance with
the leading baseball-players of this country will en-
able me to gather an aggregation of tossers who will
_ be able to wipe up the Blue Hills with your rivals. T’ll
guarantee to do the trick, sir, if you'll give me the
backing.”
“By thutter, I’ll do it!” shouted Springer. ‘You'll
bea rattling good attraction for this house next year!
We'll jest set right daown here and naow and make
an arrangement.”

_ They did.
CHAPTER VI.
BELATED BALL-PLAYERS.

__ With the opening of the summer season in the Blue
_ Hills Madawaska and Silver Springs came forth as
_ usual with strong baseball- eres made up mainly of
_ college players.

None of these college men was supposed to be play-
ing baseball for pay. They posed as employees of the
hotels, but the proprietor of neither hotel was a man

_ to pay fifty dollars a week for the services of a waiter

who appeared in the dining-room for barely a few

_, minutes each day, and this is precisely the amount re-
_ ceived by a number of those “waiters.”

It was also a remarkable thing that these high-
salaried waiters happened to be first-class pitchers or
‘phenomenal baseball-men. It is likewise a fact that
these ten were supp@sed to receive ten dollars a week,
instead of fifty dollars. At least two of these college
men had been accused of professionalism, but the
charges against them had not been proven. Of course

, they had never sigtied a written contract by which they
_ apreed to play baseball for any amount of money
whatever. All their contracts were made by word of
mouth and without witnesses,
_ - Many of these young fellows were sons of, poor
e parents who were unable to furnish them with college
careets. By the aid of this money made through base-
ball these lads were securing the finished education they
desired. There is much tommyrot in the tisual hue
and cry against this sort of professionalism. If an
ambitious young man has the ability to play baseball
well that his services are in demand and command a

good price, why should he be branded as a professional
if he plays on a. summer team made up of players like
himself and belonging to no recognized professional
league? It is quite a different matter when he plays
on a team that 1s governed by the rules of the Na-
tional Association and proclaims itself to be a pro-
fessional nine.

Silas Springer was a man who talked a great deal
and was given to boasting after a good-natured, in-
offensive way. After making his arrangement with
Cap’n Wiley, Springer had lost no time in letting the
fact be known to his friends and to the public gen-
erally. He boldly announced that he proposed to have
a ball-team that would make Madawaska and Silver
Springs “look like a pair of shines.” Along in the
spring, while Silas was making preparations to open
the Pine Tree Inn, he received a letter from Wiley, in
which the sailor stated that he had secured just the
team he desired, every man being a corker.
tain promised to appear with this team.on a certain —
date late in June.

Springer was elated, and on his first trip to Bloom-
field, forty miles away, he dropped into the Herald
office and suggested to the news editor that it would
be a good plan to mention the fact that Pineville pro- —
posed to be strictly in it that year as far as baseball —
was concerned. .

The Herald printed the article desired, giving prom-
inence to the fact that the organizer of Pineville’s ball-
team was the famous: sailor and marvelous fabulist,
Cap’n Walter Wiley, once manager and proprietor of
the famous Wind Jammers, who had toured the coun-_
try, defeating the strongest professional clubs.

The proprietors of the Madawaska House and the
Silver Springs Hotel were inclined to laugh at Silas
and treated his coming ball-team as something wun-
W orthy of serious consideration. This annoyel Pine-
ville’s boniface and made hai all the more aggressive -
in his boasting.

As the time approached for Wiley to arrive with his
team Springer grew nervous and impatient, having
received no further communications from the marine
marvel. NeVertheless, whenever questioned about his
team he would wag his head, smile knowingly and de- fe
clared that it would be on hand all right. $e

But the date for the arrival came and passed with-.
out the appearance of the expected ball-players. Nor
did Springer receive any word from the captain. =

The inn had been open some time, and the guests
were arriving daily by the regular stage and by buck-
board. The most of these guests had learned that
Pineville was to have a nine, and their questions con-
cerning it and its failure to appear added to the dis-
turbance and dismay of Silas. Some of them were in-
clined to give the uncomfortable man a “jollying.”
Others, who had heard of Cap’n Wiley and his matvel-
ous yarns, told Springer he was foolish to put any
dependence in the sailor’s word and prophesied tha
Wiley would never again be seen in Pineville. Those
who art axe ee ig been “touched” me the

 

The cap-
TIP TOP

‘captain for a sum of money in advance simply laughed
and advised the hotel man “to charge it up to profit

_ “By chowder, [ll have a ball-team!” vowed Spring-
er. “If that feller don’t show up to-morrer with his
gang, I’ll jest go out on my own hook and hire a red-
hot bunch of players!”
_ Bijah Stump was the only person whose faith in
_ Wiley seemed firm and unshaken.
“Jest you wait, boss,” he advised.
shirt the cap’n comes along in time.”
“In time? in time?” snapped Silas. “It’s time
-naow! ‘Thutteration, he oughter been here a week
ago! Gee whiz, we'd oughter been playin’ naow!
They’ve had a game at Silver Springs and one at
_ Madawaska. I’m a man of my word, Bije. When
_ I tell people I’m going to have a thing, by jinks! I have
_ it. Naow, this feller has put me in a hole. He’s a
_ consarned liar, that’s what he is! Them yarns he
___ told was enough to choke a hoss!”
_ “Why, he said he had proof of everything,” said
Bijah. “He even told us if we doubted any ‘of his
statements we could i inquire of certain parties and find
_ out that they was true.”

“He! he!” mocked Springer. “You're a credulous
cuss, Bije! Did he give us the addresses of any of
them parties we was to take as references? Do you
know where to find any of them?”

_ “Why, I don’t s’pose he ever thought to give us any
addresses,” mumbled Stump. “Why didn’t we ax for
the addresses? I’ll bet a month’s wages that he shows
up soonor or later!”

“Sooner or later? sooner or later?’ almost
quawked Silas. “Dad rip it! I don’t want him later!

I want him naow! I want him sooner! He’s made a

ool of me—that’s what he has! I ain’t goin’ to bother

th him no longer. I’m off for Wellsburg to-mor-
er arternoon to see what I can do. They’ve gut
ome good players daown, there.” |

“T hear some of the best Wellsburg and Pittston
layers have gone to Madawaska and Silver Springs.”
mrnenere’s some left.’ ).
“Be you goin to take the left- -overs, boss? I thought
ou was goin’ to have a rippin’ good team.”

“T be! I be!” cried Springer. “If I can’t get the
ight kind of players in cee I know where I

“Tl bet my

“In Bloomfield.”
_ “Hey? Bloomfield? Why, that’s a little wart of
a pans Stee, bigger’n Pineville. There

“Bijah, do you ever reali ate newspapers ?”
“Never git time,” was the answer. “It’s too much
geror to read, anyhaow.”
“Then you ain’t seen the reports Scale the big
gs happenin’ in Bloomfield. A
‘What big things?”
“Why, a man by the name of Merriwell has started

led to understand that you expected us.

WEEKLY.

a school for physical culture in Bloomfield, and his
baseball-team has jest et up everything in the caounty.”

“You don't say!’ gasped Stump.

“T do say,” retorted Silas. “It’s a fact, Bije. They
beat Pittston all holler, and they jest trimmed Wells-
burg handsome. ‘That ain’t all. This Frank Merri-
well used to be a rippin’ good pitcher on the Yale
College team. Lately he’s raked up a lot of his old
college mates and gut them together, and the Herald
told haow they walloped a great professional team ar-
ter the manager of the professionals had bet ten thou-—
sand dollars that he’d win.”

“Ten thousand—ten thousand dollars?” gasped Bi-
jah. “You don’t mean ten thousand dollars; you
mean ten dollars!’ !

“T mean jest what I said.”

“Do you believe it?” :

“Why, ’twas in the paper.” ‘
“And you believe it? And you don’t believe them
stories Cap’n Wiley told? You don’t take no stock in
his proof? I ain’t gut nuthin’ to say, boss, but I’m)
doin’ a master lot of thinkin’.” |

“Waal, anyhow I know there’ s plenty of ball- plays
in Bloomfield, and I’m goin’ to git them.”

But near eleven o’clock the following forenoon a
huge buckboard, loaded down with healthy i ae
young chaps, came up the road to Pineville and
stopped in front of the Pine Tree Inn. The young- —
sters inquired for the proprietor of the inn. They
were boys, none of them being more than =gnitee
years of age.

Springer hurried out, smiling oe suave. |

“Howdy do, boys!” he cried. “S’pose you’ve come
up for dinner? You're jest in time to git accommo-
dated. If it was later in the season, when my haouse
would be full, I couldn’t accommodate you unless
you'd given me notification in advance.”

A straight, manly, fine-faced boy stepped ‘orwell

.as spokesman of the party.

**You’re the proprietor, sir, are your” he weed cd

“T be,” nodded Silas. “My name is Springer.”

“My name is Merriwell,” said the boy.

“Hey?” gasped Silas, in astonishment. “Merriwell?
You don’t mean that you’re Frank Merriwell ?” .

“No, sir; I’m his brother, Dick Merriwell. You
said you might not be able to accommodate us had we
arrived later in the season and without giving you
notice, but it seems to me that you’ye been notified of
our coming.”

“No, sir, I haven’t received no word.” ae

“Well, that’s remarkable, to say the least. We were
Cap’n Wiley
assured me that all arrangements had been made.”

“Who—who?” squawked Silas. “Cap’n Wiley tol
you so? Thunderation, that feller will tell anythi
Don’t mention his name to me! He made an agr
ment to bring a baseball- team here a week ago, and h

ain’t even shown his nose.” 3 |
“That’s too bad,” said Dick. “We expected to fin

 
TIP TOP W

him here. This is the baseball-team he agreed to Heth. we think we can play’ baseball to satisfy |
bring.” you, and all we ask is a show,” _
Springer staggered backward, caught his heel on “Well, I s’pose I'll have to give yea trial,” mumbled
the step behind him, and sat down with a bump. Springer, “Come in.’

The boys gathered up their grips and suit-cases and |
started to follow the landlord, who had entered the —
inn.

eae ue As Dick Shes the door a square-shouldered, red-
TROUBLE AT THE INN. faced, fat-cheeked young fellow, with a remarkable

fos “Wh-wh-what did you say?” gurgled Silas. “The nose, which looked like the beak of an eagle, appeared se
Bede Auiishaeehalbdenm?” in the doorway. This person wore a tennis-shirt and a
Bijah Stump had appeared round the corner, ar- P27 of very baggy trousers, supported by a red belt.
‘riving in time to’ hear Dick’s announcement. He The trousers were rolled up at the bottom, revealing

promptly threw up his old hat, sad inti gi alse ask his thick ankles, which were covered by plaid stock-
Bee ica, P 8 ings. His shoes were low-cut russets. A tiny cap

‘ 1 és was stuck on the back of his head. There was a care- —
eta a peas we ane im ime ick fully trained bang which fell to his eyebrows. He

I king a cigarette, and he proceeded to blow a
Springer picked himself up, and took a deep breath. V@8 SMO
Then he surveyed the boys, one after another, finish- ' + whiff of smoke into Dick’s face. As Dick attempted —

ing by turning once more to Merriwell. to pass, he received a jab in the ribs from the smoker’ s

‘6 Ibow. ic ee
Where’s Cap’n Wiley?” he asked. goa i
“Why, I ao I ae ctited that we! expected ‘to With a strange smile, Dick stopped and bowed,
” meet hits here.” “I beg your pardon, ” he said mildly. “I hope I —

2 Ee Wg didn’t hurt your elbow.”

_ “Then I presume something has delayed him, It’s ee 4 RUST CORE SY See oe
probable he will arrive v ery soon.’ a doorway,” advised the stranger, giving young Mer-

“ ‘1, - riwell a scornful glance of disdain.
| ie fee ee oe ee He Bey “Again I beg pardon for my bad manners,” smiled»

. “cc
“Bijah, you shet up and ’tend to your business,” ue Nevertheless, I fear you cannot teach me ; po-

commanded the innkeeper. “You’re kinder gittin’ ob- “ 39
5 ; ? eg + Why not?
stroperlous. You're kinder gittin’ aouter your place.

“Beanie I don’t think you know the meaning of
the word.” .
“Tl show you whether I do or not if you pet

“’Scuse me,” said Bijah. “I couldn’t help sayin’

jest a word or two, seein’ as haow I’ve stuck to it all
Bote pa . ee good. And he has saucy!” snarled the rude stranger. “Don’t make any

Ba ae nee oiyre sad wee: ‘ fresh talk to me, kid! If you do——”
Somehow, Silas Springer did not seem wholly satis- “[ suppose something terrible will happen if I do? oom

fied. “T’ll give you what your mother neglected to de-
__ “You’re a pretty young-lookin’ set to be first-class jjver,” igre chicas the other. .

» pall- players,” he observed, slowly shaking his head. “What? s that?”
“You ain’t nowhere nigh as old as them chaps over «A good spanking. I'll take you over my knee ssid
at Madawaska and Silver Springs. Be you college spank you.’
" fellers ?” A moment later something surprising happened.
“Several of us enter college in the fall,” explained Dick dropped his alligator-skin grip, his hand shot
ha “We've finished our prep. school courses.” out, his fingers clutched the stranget’s shirt-collar, ©
“What’s a prep. school?” and in a twinkling the stranger was lying face down-
“Why, a school that prepares for college.” ward over one of Dick’s knees. Merriwell had dropped _
“Oh, yes, a kind of a high school. Why, you ain’t on one knee, with the other leg i in position to support
nuthin’ but high- “school fellers. I ain’t never seen no the chap with the beaklike nose. .
high-school team that could play ball with the big col- “Give it to him, pard!” cried Brad Buckhart, who
lege teams.” had been looking on and listening with great indig-
~ “But I don’t understand that they have regular nation. “Blister him good and proper!” ef
college teams up here in the hills,” returned Dick. Merriwell’s open right hand rose and fell. With
_ “They’re made up of college fellers,” declared. his palm he proceeded | to spank the stranger in a de
Springer. “Why, I ’spected to see Wiley fetch me a_ cidedly vigorous and effective manner.
lot of big, strappin’ professionals. I had the kind of The astounded fellow uttered a howl, and began to
men he’d bring all figgered out in my mind, and you struggle and kick.
youngsters don’t look a bit like ’em.” Six times Dick applied his ean to the seat of th
“We're not professionals,” asserted Dick promptly, violent chap’s trousers.
“and we have no ambition to be classed as such.

 
‘TIP TOP

iron-gray side-whiskers, and a nose which seemed an
exact duplicate of the insolent young fellow’s beak, ap-
_ peared on the scene. his man carried a cane, and
as soon as he recovered from his surprise and astonish-
ment he uttered a shout of anger and lifted the cane to
strike Dick over the shoulders.

With a pantherish bound Brad Buckhart cleared
Merriwell’s kneeling figure, reached the man, and
wrenched the cane from his grasp.

“Hold on, Mister Man with the Chauncey Depew-
-sters!” he commanded. “Don’t you try to swat my
pard!”

“He’s assaulting my son!’ snarled the man.

“So that flap-doodle jackass is your son?” said
Brad. “Well; I certain opine he’s getting what’s com-
ing to him.”

By this time the young fellow Dick had spanked was

sprawling on the floor, while Merriwell had risen to

_ his feet.

“How dare you lay hands on my son, you young
scoundrel!” rasped the man with the iron-gray siders,
shaking his clenched fist at Dick.

“Your son brought it on himself,” declared Merri-
well quietly. “He threatened to spank me. He seemed
to be looking for trouble.”

“And he gug-gug-gug-got his,” stuttered Chip Jol-
 liby.

_ The landlord, who had entered the office, now came
rushing back to the spot, apparently in great agita~

tion.

_ “What’s all this uproar?” he asked.

trouble, Mr. Porter ?”

_ “T found these young ruffians attacking my son in a
_ body,” answered the man.

“It certain is a fabrication most malicious,”
promptly asserted Brad Buckhart. ‘He attempted to
i each my pard around with results some disastrous to
hrm.” ;

“What’s the

By this time the fellow Dick had spanked was again

f on his feet, and seemed on the point of rushing at
_ Merriwell.

“Hold on! hold on! y squawked Springer. “T won't

have any more of this disgraceful business in my

~ house! It will ruin the reputation of the place.”
“Wait, Hector-—wait!’’ commanded the man with
the side-whiskers. “Don’t soil your hands on that
reprobate.”
“T’ll punch his head off!” rasped Hector furiously.
“What do you mean by kicking up all this trouble
here?” demanded Silas Springer, glaring at Dick.

.. lows get out.” |

WEEKLY.

guests? Do you know who this gentleman is? This
is Horace Porter, and that’s his son, Hector.”’

“T assure you, Mr. Springer, I was not the cause z
of the trouble,” said Dick quietly. “As I attempted to
enter the house, this fellow jabbed me in the ribs with
his elbow, and blew smoke in my face. Even then I
had no desire to retaliate, but he threatened to spank -
me.

“°E did,” put in Billy Bradley. “’E made some
blooming talk habout what ’e would do.” >

Other guests were gathering, and in great distress -
Springer urged the belligerents to “drop it.”

“T’m very sorry, Mr. Porter,” he said humbly. “You —
know I’m not to blame.” 3

“T don’t know about that. Who are these young
thugs? Why are they here? Are you going to admit —
such ruffians to this house?” e

“T’ll have to take them in for the time being,” said
the landlord, “but I don’t think they'll stop long.” :

In haste to quiet things down, Silas invited Dick —
and his friends to follow him up-stairs at once. :

Horace Porter grasped his son by the arm and
dragged him away.

Having shown the new arrivals to the rooms re-
served for the baseball-team, Springer hastened down-
stairs and sought Porter, whom he found in the office
explaining to a number of guests in what a dastardly
manner his son had been assaulted. Immediately upon
perceiving Silas, the man turned and seized him by the
coat-sleeve.

“Look here, Mr. Springer,’ he said furiously, “I
want to give you notice. I’ve made arrangements to
spend the summer in your hotel, but, if you keep those
scoundrels ye I'll leave immediately and take my
son with me.’

“Naow, Mr. Porter,” protested Springer, “don’t be
in such a hurry. Don’t be too quick.”

“T’ve said what I mean,” snarled Porter,
settles it!”

“and that

CHAPTER VIII.

PORTER’S PROPOSITION.

him into a private office.
“You ought to understand I’m not to blame for t
Mr. Porter,” he said. “T’don’t want you to leave,
“Well, I’ve told you what I’m going to do,”
serted the offended man. “Either I leave, or those fel
; ‘

 
IP TOP WEEKLY.

“You’1e putting me in a mighty hard place,” said
_ Silas, shaking his head. “Them fellers are the base-
_ ball-players I’ve been expecting for a week.”
“You don’t mean it?”
Fes; d do.”
“Why, look here, Springer, they’re nothing but
: boys. I thought you were going to have a first-class
baseball-team ?”

“So -I was,” muttered Silas.
-agreement with Cap’n Wiley.”

“That was in the

“You were foolish to place any dependence in such
an agreement.”

“I ‘spect I was.”
_ “T’'ve never seen this fellow Wiley, but, according
_ to all reports, he’s a most notorious liar.”
“T guess he is,” nodded the downcast landlord.
“He’s imposed on you.”
“Tt looks that way.”
_ “He accepted your hospitality last fall, and I under-

stand you paid him a sum of money in advance to fur-

nish you with a fine baseball-team.”
_ “That's jest what I did, dad rap me for a fool!”
_ “Well, it appears that he’s played a low and con-
temptible joke on you. He’s collected a lot of kids
: who are looking for a good time at some one ’s expense,

“you will stand for it. Where is Wiley himself oa
' “Where is he?” snarled Silas. “I wish somebody’d

Zea Porter. “He didn’t
He knew he’d treated you

ek Aiieedtore he kept away.”
“Guess you’re right, Mr. Porter.”

: Dl know I’m right. Why, compare these mere boys

“T dunno’s they will.”

“Well, there’s only one thing to be done.”

“What's that?”

“Send those boys away immediately.
stay here and sponge off you.
your guests away.”

“T’ve thought of that, but I made an agreement to

give them a trial.”

“What sort of an agreement?
writing?”

“Well, not exactly. Still, I consider my word as
good as my bond.”

“In most things, Mr. Springer, you seem to be a

shrewd business man, but in this case you don’t show
much shrewdness.
a man, and he broke his part of the contract, would
you feel bound to keep your part?”

“No, sir!” ;

“Well, there you are.”

“T guess I be. I guess you're right.
want a basebail-team, and I’d kinder like to know what |
these fellers can do.”

“Just as you please.
that’s your business, but I move out to-morrow.”

“Don’t you do it,” urged the landlord.
feed ’em one meal, at least.” i

“My son knows baseball-players when he sees them,”
asserted Porter. “He can tell one in a moment.
says it’s ridiculous to regard any of those chaps as
real ball-players. Who are they, anyhow, and where
are they from?”

“T asked Merriwell where he was frum, and tiet
said he’d been goin’ to school at Fardale ‘Cademy.
Did you ever hear of that school?”

“Why, it seems to me I have. It’s some sort of 2 a

minor preparatory. school.
I think.”

At this moment Hector Porter opened the door and

iooked in. I
“Oh, here you are,
looking for you.”

gov’nor!”’ he cried.

“Come in, my boy—come in,” invited the man. “I’m
talking this affair over with Mr. Springer.”
“Did you give him notice?” asked Hector.
you give him notice we were going to leave? or
ST did. ‘
“Well, what did he say?”

“He feels that he’s in a rather trying position. | He

feels that it is his duty to give these boys a chance to.
see what they can do. They! re students ince Fardale q

ee oe

Don’t let them
Don’t let them drive —

Did you make it in-

If you made an agreement with

Still, I do 0

If you wish to keep them, —

“T'll have to —

vi

It’s not very well known,

“T’ve been

“Did

 
a spring. He’s a ball-player,

TIP TOP

Hector began to laugh derisively through his nose.
| “Fardale?” he cried. “Why, that’s nothing but a
little squirt of a school! Nobody thinks anything of
that! I know all.about that. The boys who go there
can’t play baseball.”

“Ts that so?” asked Springer.
“You can: bet it’s so if Hector says it,’ nodded
_ Porter. “He knows what he’s talking about. He was
| manager of the Freshman team at State College this
Mr. Springer. He’s a
- catcher. If you want some one to get together a good
- ball-team for you, why don’t you take Hector ?”

_ “Will he do it?’ asked the landlord.

“Certainly, I’ll doit,” assured young Porter, at
once. “I’ll:be glad to do it. I know plenty of players
L-can get to come here for a summer outing.”

“Well, naow, that’s something like it,” breathed
Silas, with an expression of relief. “TI was thinkin’

of goin’ daown to Bloomfield to look arter players.”

“Why, what have they in Bloomfield?”

“Prank Merriwell, the brother of this chap you had

the trouble with, is sorter runnin’ a team daown there.”

“Another Merriwell!” rasped Hec. “Do you think
he'd furnish players to throw his own brothier’s frietids

out-of commission? I should say not! You won't get

any satisfaction from him.”

; “Well, I guess you're fight,” nodded Springer.
 “Haow long will it take you to get a team up?”
“Give me authority, and I'll do it in a hurry,” as-

-serted Hector. “I'll go over to Silver Springs, where

they have telegraph communications, and wire for
several boys I can get.”

“Tt takes nine men.”

“Yes. A team should have éleven men.”

“Can you git so many right off quick?”
ig Ba get hold of four or five fellows in a short
time.”

“Where be you goin’ to git the rest?” _

“They have some pretty good players down at Slab-
town. I know they’re rather rough, but I saw them
play a good game a few days ago. Yesterday they
_ played against Silver Springs. Haven’t heard the re-.
5 sult yet, but I suppose we'll get full\information when
_ the tefi-o’clock stage arrives. I imagine Silver Springs
won, for Slabtown hasn’t nine good men. Neverthe-
~ less, I can get four of five players down _ that will
serve us for awhile, at least.”

Ts it understood, Mr, Springer, that my son is to
go aliead inthis matter?” asked Porter, “Is it under
‘stood that you will send these boys away immedi-

= a ,

“Jest give me a little time,” implored Springer.
“I'm all stewed up naow. I think I'll let your son go
ahead with the business, but I want to talk with that
feller, Merriwell. I want to kinder settle this difficulty
as easy and quiet as | can.”

He was interrupted by a sharp knock on the door.

“Come in,” he called.

The door opened, and Bijah Stump, looking rather
excited and alarmed, thrust his head in.

“I. say, boss,” palpitated Bijah, “you better come
aout! I’m afeared there’s goin’ to be trouble.”

“What is it?” asked Springer, rising hurriedly.

“Marl Boomer’s jest come up the road in a wagon,
and he’s pretty well corned. You know he allus raises
a disturbance when he’s been drinking.”

“Drat that man!” snarled Silas. “1 wish he’d keep
away from here.”

“Who is Marl Boomer?” asked Porter.

“He's the boss of Slabtaown,”
keeper. “He’s known as Big Marl because he stands
six feet four in his stockings. He boasts that he can
whip any six men in the Blue Hills, and when he gits
on a tear I ruther guess he can doit. Every little
while he breaks loose and smashes things up gen-—
erally.” a

“Well, why don’t you have him arrested?”

“Have him arrested? Have Big Marl arrested f
Gee whiz! I wouldn’t dare to.”

“Why not?”

“If I had him arrested and jugged, I know what
would happen jest as soon as he gut aout, He’d come
up here and put my whole place on the bum. I'll try
to pacify him and keep him quiet. That’s the best
way.”

Springer hurried from the office to find Big Marl.

explained the inn- —

CHAPTER IX.
BIG MARL.

Marlow Boomer had hitched his horse in front
the inn, and he met Silas at the door. He was sway
ing unsteadily, and there was a hazy, sleepy look in his:
eyes. His breath smelled of liquor. 7

In the West this giant would have posed as a “b
man.” He was huge and muscular in every limb, with
a thick neck and a bullet-shaped head. His face wa:
covered with scars, and on the back of his neck were
scars which extended up into his short, slose ee
hair.

“Hello, Marl,” said Silas, in his mildest, suaves

manner. “Haow are you to-day? Glad to see ¥
; « =

 
p 16

ain't glad to see me! You're sorry I’ve come.

}

“You

You’re

~“¥Vou’re a blamed liar!” retorted Boomer.

shaking in your boots.”

“Why, I’m always glad to see you,” protested the

innkeeper. “I like you, Boomer.”

“Yes, you do—not! Now, don’t give me any of
that gush, Springer. I don’t want people glad to see
me. It makes me mad when they say they’re glad to see
me. I’m kinder peaceable and docile to-day, but if you

say you're glad to see me, I’m going to get up on my
ear and make things hum around here. I'll tear things
_wide open around here.”

Don’t do it—please don‘t!” urged Silas.
_/ “Then say you are sorry to see me.”
)A'm sorry.”
“Then say you don’t like me.”
»“T don’t like you, Marl.” —
“Say you hate me.”
“I hate you, Marl.”

“That’s all right now,” nodded Boomer. “As long
S you are sorry and you don’t like me and you hate

-me, I won’t make any disturbance to-day, Springer.
You see what makes me so mild and gentle is that I
worked off all my enthusiasm last night arter the base-
ball-team come back from the Springs.

It was purty

late, and a bunch of us was up waitin’ for the boys to

river.

had a broken nose, Frank Sawyer couldn’t see out of »

ome in. We'd been drinking split to keep us awake.
judge I had about a quart and a half of the stuff
towed away, and I was’feelin’ like doin’ something.
When I heard the returns of that ball-game I proposed
o do it: I had a little grudge agin’ Jeff Young, so
settled matters with him by kicking him into the
There was four or five of Jeff’s fr iends who.
objected to this action, and they all jumped on me to
once. It was the most fun I’ve had since the row
ith the Spooner gang. When we gut through, Ike
Dearborn was laid out with a busted jaw, Joe Handy

her eye, Mike O’Brien was senseless, with his head

TIP TOP WEEKLY.

“All I want, Silas,” said Boomer, “is a little: obits
If you’ve gut oar a quart, I'll take it, and you may
charge it to me.’

“I don’t believe I’ve gut any.”

“Yes, you have.”

“T don’t think I have.”

“You've gut to have it, Silas, if I want it.
ain’t gut it, it’s up to you to find it.”

“If Pll get a quart for you, will you go right away ?”

If you |

“Now, don’t. try to make no bargain with me, Silas. —
If you git me a quart, I’ll do jest as I blamed please. ~
When I git ready to go} I'll go. But you want to git
that quart for me. Jest hurry up, now. T’ll follow you
right into the office and wait until you git the stuff.”

“You know I have no license to sell liquor.”

“You don’t need it up here, Silas. You sell it jest
the same whether you have a license or not. Yow. i
know you furnish your guests with anything they _
want in the drinkable line.”

“But they c’u’d make trouble for me if they seen |
fit. If I sold you whisky, you could eee agin’.
me and have me arrested.”

“Have ye rested? Do you think Marl booger if
would ever do anything like that? Do you think that
Big Marl is the kind of critter to have anything to do
with the law or the officers of the law? Why, dod ©
rap ’em! I hate anybody that has any connections
with the law. Didn’t I purty nigh kill the sheriff and _
four of his deputies last year? I didn’t have no par- —
ticular grudge agin’ the sheriff except that he was an
officer of the law. He wan’t lookin’ for me at all. He.
was lookin’ arter another man. As soon as I seen —
him I jest peeled off my co’t, spit on my paws and —
went at him. His deputies tried to protect him, but —
one of them has been laid up. ever since, and they say
he’ll be lame the rest of his nateral born days. Oh, —
I’m a bad man when I git started. Don’t git. me
started, Silas, for I’m jest as soople as a little lamb —
to-day. Now trot along and bring me the booze,” |

Boomer followed the landlord into the office, where
he deposited himself on a chair, taking out.a plug
of tobacco and tearing off a. piece with his esate
teeth. ,

“You'll stay right here until I come back, will you, i
Marl?” asked the innkeeper. anxiously. i
“I never make no promises to no one,” said Boomer.
“But you want to git that stuff in jest about two min-

utes. That’s all.” |

Springer Sei vanished,

 
P. WEEKLY.

ane ee baited the stranger with curiosity that was
not unmingled with awe.

f “Who be you lookin’ at?” asked Boomer, as he de-
liberately spat on the floor. “Mebbe you gents don’t
know me. I’m Marl Boomer from Slabtown. I’m
harmless as a two-year-old kid to-day. But some-
imes I go out and agitate — wuss than an earth-
uake. Hello!”

’ This exclamation was caused by the appearance of
Dick Merriwell, who walked into the room at that

| ee !” nodded Dick, nib pe the Ba? man over.

. “Oh, no, sir,’ ” replied Dick: “I’m running loose to-
ay. Can you tell me where I'll find Mr. Springer?”
“Wait right here, and he’ll be back in about two
winks,” said Boomer. “What do you want of him,
inyhow ?”
“Why, I have a little private business with him.”
Springer reappeared, bringing a bottle, which was
carefully wrapped in brown paper.
_ “Here you are, Marl,” he said, handing it over to
he big man.
_ “Thanks,” grunted Boomer, “Chalk it down on a
of i There’s a kid that wants to talk with
ou on business. Go ahead, kid, and talk.”
Much obliged, sir,” nodded Dick. “I hope I’m not
rfering with you in any way?”
_ “Not at all, not at all,” assured the man from
Slabtown. “I’m through with Silas.”

“Then, Mr. Springer,” said Dick, “I want to know

s please.”
Marlow Boomer rose to his fest |
“That’s purty straight talk, Springer,” he said.
t like the way the baby chins, What is it about

springer hastened és explain, cutting out the details,
making it clear that he was wholly dissatisfied

“y

1%,

with the appearance of the young fellows who had ar-
rived there to represent Pineville.

“How are you going to judge us until you see us
play?” asked Dick. “You can’t tell by our looks
whether we can play or not. All we want is a fair
show, and you must give us that show.”

“T suppose you want to play a game against some
team. I suppose you want to play against Madawaska
or Silver Springs. Naow, look here, boy, if I should
put you against either of them teams and they beat
you to death, they'll laugh at me all the rest of the
summer. If I do that, mebbe they'll refuse to play any
team I put up.”

“Then let us play against some other team,”
Dick.

“What other team is there?” ,

“Slabtown!” shouted Marl Boomer. “If the kids.
can beat Slabtown, they can down Silver Springs, for

1?

we beat Silver Springs nine to four yesterday !

said

“Is that right?” gasped Springer.

“You bet it is! You'll see the report in the Wells-
burg Herald when you git the paper to-day. Jest send
your kids down to Slabtown, and we'll play ’em to-
morrer arternoon, and then you can tell whether
they’re any good or not.”

“Will you do that, boy?” asked Silas.

“Certainly,” nodded Dick. | ‘

CHAPTER X.
BIJAH STUMP’S VALUABLE VEST.

At half-past two the following afternoon the shrill —
whistles of the two Slabtown mills began shrieking,

the saw stopped buzzing and growling and screaming

as they tore through the pine logs, the mills shut down
promptly, and three minutes later the laborers were |
making a grand rush for the baseball-ground on the
outskirts of the little settlement.

Slabtown was excited. Her team, made up of husky, —
laborers, had defeated the Silver Springs Nine, and
the citizens of the sawmill town were confident it could -
beat anything in the Blue Hills or within forty es
of those hills, for that matter.

- Slabtown was an industrious place where every
hour counted, yet the workmen with one accord had
given notice that they were going to attend the ball
game that afternoon. They did not ask permission to
attend; they simply said they were going. : 3

Dick Merriwell’s team had arrived from Pineville in

'

time to have something to eat and rest an hour after

 
TIP TOP:

the journey. Then they changed their clothes for
their old Fardale uniforms and proceeded to the ball-
ground for practise.

They found a few of the local players already at
the groutid, but not half a dozen spectators were to
be seen,

“Don’t look to me like we'd have tnuch of a turn-
out here to-day, pard,” observed Brad Buckhart. “I
opitie fost of the spectators will come down from
Pineville. Some of the hotel guests allowed they’d
cotiie, and we can cértain count on it that Springer
will be here to see us walloped.”’

“Not to mention Mr. Porter and his son,” laughed
Dick.

“Dud-dud-dud-don’t forget Bijah Sus-Sus-Stis-
Stump;” put in Chip Jolliby. “Bijah told me he’d cer-
tainly cuc-cuc-cuc-come. He’s the only mum-man in
Pineville that thinks we have a sus-show of getting
away with the sug-eug-gug-game.”

“Dern his picter! He’s all right!” piped Obediah
Tubbs. “Last night he swiped four hull pies for me,
and I et ’em behind the barn: Bijah he set on the

gfourid side of me and watched me put them pies un:

der my vest. Then he asked me about every feller
~ on the team, and I felt so sociable toward him that I
give him a string of information a mile long. Chip is
right in thinking Bijah counts 6n us to win all right.”
- “We houghter be hable to beat a blooming lot of
sawmill ’ands, don’t you know,” said Billy Bradley.
_ “Hif we can’t do hit, we’re a ues lot of bum ball-

players, blow me if we har’ not.” ,

“Oh, we'll lug off the game,” declared big Bob
Singleton. “We'll show Springer that we cai play
a little.”

a mit might bea good idea,” observed Hal Darrell,
“not to get the notion into our heads that the game

_ will be easy.”
 “That’s right,” nodded Earl Gatdner. “We don’t

want to forget that these sawinill laborets defeated
Silver Springs.”

“Hi ear as *ow Silver Springs thought she ‘ad aa
Be easy thing,” said Bradley. “She kind hof let Slab-
z town ’ay a few scores to start With just as a ‘owling
hold joke.”

© That’s the report,” laughed Dick. “The sinatt col-
lege chaps at the sprifigs permitted the visitors to
make sorte scores at first, with the idea of going in
later and piling wp all the ris needed. That’s where
they fooled themselves, for when they attempted to
a runs ae couldn’t do much of anything with Pet -

WEEKLY.

“That’s Pettinger over there pitching tothe 4
headed chap,” said Gardner. - “I heard one of the men :
call him Pet as we came onto the field.” 2

The boys surveyed. the Slabtown pitcher with some”
curiosity. He was a tall, long-geared, loose-jointed ”
fellow, awkward in every movement, yet as they’
watched they saw him deliver a ball that fairly sizzed_
through the air and spanked into the ¢atcher’s mitt es
with a loud report. a

“Mum! mum!” muttered Obediah Tubbs.
his picter! He’s gut speed!” : .

“Let’s get some batting practise, fellows,” urged
Dick. et out the balls atid bats, We'll go at it
right away.” <a

“This is a fine hold field to ’andle groundets hon!
grumbled Bradley. “Look at the bumps and ‘ubbles
and stones! Hit’s simply hawful!”

“Here comes a Pineville turnout now,” said Darrell,
as a buckboard hove into view over a ridge arid ap: /
proached the field. ;

‘On that buckboard were Horace Porter, his son
Hector, and Silas Springer, together with several Pine

Tree Inn guests. The driver pulled tip at the side
of the field, and Springer called Dick, beckoning i
the boy to approach. a

“Look here, young fellow,” said the itinieoneed as”
the boy reached the side of the buckboard, “I want it _
distinctly understood that this game settles the whole
business. If you're beat, you might jest as well sta
away from Pineville for good. J’ll ship your luggage
out to any pint eu name, but I don’t want you te |
come back for it.”

“And if we win?” questioned Merriwell. 3

“Ha! ha! ha!” laughed Hector Porter through his y
nose. “You haven’t as much show of winning as a _
snowball has of remaining unmelted in a_ blast
furnace.” }

“That’s right, my son-—quite right,” agreed Hdrade
Porter. “You know baseball-players when you se
them. You can gage them to a capital T.”

“Tf you wif,” said Springer, “that’s a different mat-
ter, Of cotitse, I’ll be baound to take you fellers anc
fulfil ty part of the contract if you git away with ee
game.” a

“Gentlemen,” called Dick, ditathig to the ea 5
from the inn, ‘ a8 hear Mr. gl S. statem at.
You are witnesses.”

Bijah Stump, mounted on a actawny old horse,
over the bridge, with the remainder of the Slabte
_ baseball-team straggling along at his heels,

“Dern

«

Prey

«! Re.

 
Tie 20P

a a and his players pbbuihed fifteen minutes
of batting practise before the Slabtown whistles blew.

_ Five minutes after those whistles sounded the la-
borers of the town began to arrive, and within a quar-
ter of an hour nearly every person in the sawmill
village had reached the field.

_ The Slabtown nine had purple suits, and the vil-
lagers were very proud of them. The crowd called
various players by' name, giving them advice and
encouragement.

_ “What are you goin’ to do to them fellers to-day,
Pet: ?” one fellow shouted at the pitcher.

| “Not a thing,”’ answered Pettinger, with a grin.
_ “Hey! hey!” shouted another chap. “There’s Saul
—good old Saul the Slugger! S’pose you'll git a hit
every time you come to bat to-day, Saul? You done
it over to the Springs.”
_ Saul the Slugger was a thick-shouldered, stocky in-

ividual who looked like a man to break a bat every

ime he hit the ball.
“Eat ’em up, McTeague!” bellowed a laborer.
“They’ re nuthin’ but a lot of kids!’
_Scowling and sullen, Big Marl was on hand and
giving off orders. Evidently he was the real manager
_of the team, although another fellow by the name of
kip, who played short-stop, was supposed to be the
manager and captain.
_ The locals took the field for practise.
“Tl be a ridiculous exhibition,” declared Hector
Porter.
any one fool enough to bet on the sane, I'd like
) make a little money.”
“You can’t find any one who will back the boys,”
asserted Horace Porter.
“Tf I can, may I bet?”
“Got any money with you?”
“Oh, yes, I’ve got twenty-five.”

Well, I don't approve of betting, my son, but this.

sure thing, and it’s foolish to let sure things slip.”
Thus encouraged, Hector Porter sprang down from
e buckboard and began walking round looking for

“T have some money I’d like to put up on Slab-
own,” he cried. “Who’ll back the other team ?”
he spectators shouted with laughter.
You must be looking for suckers!” they cried.
I am,” grinned Hec. “Of course, any one with
nse knows Slabtown will win like a breeze.”
s ‘That's what you think,” called Bijah Stump. “But

“Those kids are frightened now. If I could

WEEKLY. 19

“There’s the only man who has any faith in the
kids,’ grinned Hector, “and he hasn’t any money.”

“Who told you so much?” snapped Bijah. “How
do you know I ain’t gut no money?”

“Oh, you may have a few measly coppers in your
rags,” retorted Hector. “But I’m looking for some-
thing worth while. [ve got twenty-five:dollars here,
and I’d like to bet it all on Slabtown.”

He passed on, seeking some one with courage
enough to put up money on the visiting team, but he
failed to notice that Bijah Stump fell in behind him
and followed him around. Every minute Bijah grew
more and more excited. Finally he rushed forward,
tapped Hec on the shoulder, and cried:

?

“Jest you hold on! T’ll bet you five dollars!

“Five dollars?’ derisively laughed young Porter.
“Did you ever have as much as that at one time in
-your life?”

“Wait a minute, by gee—wait a minute!” almost

\ yelled Bijah, as he ripped off his coat and flung it on

the ground.

“Are you going to fight?” asked Hec.

“No, I ain’t a-goin’ to fight, but I’m a-goin’ to.bet,
by jim crickey! I’ll show you I’ve gut five dollars!
’ll show you I’ve gut ten!” ‘

The removal of Stump’s coat had fully revealed a
queer vest, which he had ‘worn persistently every day
for the past ten years. The vest was old and patched
until it appeared to be composed of patches to such an
extent that little if any of the original garment could
be seen. Those patches were of different cloths and |
different colors, making the vest a most remarkable
appearing piece of wearing apparel.

Having removed his coat, Bijah took off this queer |

vest, produced a jack-knife, opened a blade and started
the stitches of one of the patches. Having cut the |
stitches, he pulled off the patch, exposing to the sur-
prised and wondering eyes of the near-by witnesses
two five-dollar bills carefully folded and tucked away
beneath that patch. ¥

.“Here you be!” snapped Bijah, as he seized the —
money and flourished it. ‘‘Here’s ten dollars that ’'m —
willing to bet on this game! I'll put it right up on
them boys, and don’t you forgit it!”

“Tt’s a shame to rob you!” sneered Porter.
out your stakeholder.”

Stump looked around and selected a man with whom |
he was acquainted. The bet was quickly made, young |
Porter gleefully covering Bijah’s two fives with: a
ten-dollar bill. ?

“Pick |

 
TIP TOP WEEKLY. _

“You'll go back to Pineville busted to-night,
Stump,” said Hec. “You won’t have a cent to your
name.” 3

“Mebbe I won’t,” retorted Bijah,, “but I kinder think
Pil have your ten-dollar bill.”

“T wish you had fifteen dollars more, and enough
courage to put it up.”

“You think you'd git it, don’t ye?”

“I know I'd get it.”

“Hold on!” snarled Bijah. “By juniper, I guess I’ve
gut fifteen dollars more somewhere! You wait a
minute!”

He ripped off another patch. From beneath this
patch he produced a little wad of money, which proved
to be eighteen dollars in all.

“Here’s fifteen and three more,” he announced.
“Naow you put your money up, and I’ll kivver it.”

“Hooray for Bijah!” cried a man. “His sporting

blood is aroused!”
“Whoever thought that vest was worth so much!”

chuckled another man.

“T’ve gut three dollars left,” announced Stump,
after he had covered all of Hector’s money. “Might
as well bet that, too.”

Half a dozen men sprang at him, all of them eager
to cover his remaining three dollars.

“Oh, it’s a shame!” laughed one of the disappointed
men as he watched a Slabtowner produce some money
and cover Bijah’s three “Williams.” ‘“Can’t you pull
off another patch, Bije? I’ve gut five here.”

“So have I!” piped a little man.
patch, Bijah.”

Many voices urged Stump to remove another patch,
and, after a few moments’ hesitation, 2 decided to
— do so.

~“You’ve gut me b’iling!” he confessed. “Jest you
folks walk right up with your money, and I'll pull off
patches here as long as they last!’

The gaping, wondering, laughing crowd packed
around him and watched him as he removed patch
after patch, producing little wads of money from be-
neath each one. There were plenty of takers, for all

“Do try another

Slabtown seemed eager to get some of that money.

The crowd simply roared with laughter, and Bijah
continued excitedly to dissect the vest.

“How long have you had that valuable garment ?”
 inguired one man.
“Ten years, by jinks!” answered Stump.
worn her every day, Sundays and week-days.
5: even took her off at a

“T’ve
I ain't

acd

“And no one ever suspected what was under them
patches,” said Big Marl, who had elbowed his way
through the crowd. “Hold on, Bijah; I want to git
a little of that myself. I’ve gut nine dollars here.” _

“Put her up! put her up!” shouted Stump. “D’ll
accommodate every one of ye jest as long as my
money lasts !’’ :

Finally the old vest lay on the ground in fragments.
The last patch had been removed, and the last bill
brought to light. The dismemberment of the garment
was complete, and it looked like anything but a vest.

“How much have you bet?” asked an interested
man. “Have you any idea, Bijah?” Mo

“Yep,” answered Stump. “I knowed jest exactly
what I had stitched away there. It was precisely four
hundred and eighty-three dollars. It’s all up, every
bit of it, and I’m going to be purty nigh a rich man
arter this game is over.’

“You'll be right back where ye was when you
began stitching the patches on ten year ago,” said
Boomer. “I’m sorry for ye, Bijah. But that money
didn’t do you no good sewed away inside that old
vest. We folks will put it in circulation where it
will be a public benefit.”

“They’re ready to begin the game!” cried a voice
“Them boys is askin’ who’s goin’ to empire, Marl.

guess they want you-to furnish the empire.”’

“All right,” said Boomer, as he turned away, “Tl
furnish him.”

CHAPTER XI.
} NOTHING DOING.

Big Marl called a little cross-eyed man and said:
“Look here, Squinty, I want you to empire.”
“T’d rather not, Marl,” objected the little man. “Yo
know it ain’t no desirable = to empire a ball-gam
in this town.” i
“T say I want you to empire!” growled the boss of a
Slabtown. “What I say goes, you understand-—what
say goes!” . ts
“Yes, I understand, Marl. If you say I’ve gut to
do it, ’ll do it. But I’m afraid I wont give no
tion, and T ain’t gut no life insurance.’ :
“You're the only man in this town that kno
enough to empite a game right,’ declared Boomer.
“I want you to git out there and give everybo<
square show.” ere . ee
“If there’s any close decisions agin’ our boys,

crowd will - Marl. i

 
‘TIP TOP WEEKLY.

“You do what’s right and let ’em kick,” commanded
Boomer. “If it comes to a close decision, and you
think the youngsters oughter have the favor, you give

‘it to’em. Don’t you mind if the crowd does kick.”
_ “Will you promise me protection ?”
“Vou bet I will, Squinty! There won’t k nobody do
‘no harm to you.”
_ “} wish you’d kinder notify the crowd to that effect,
Marl.”

“All right, I will.”

_ Boomer marched out onto the field and held up his
hand.

“Gents,” he cried, ina hoarse, husky voice, “Squinty
: Jones i is goin’ to empire this game. He’s goin’ to give
the decisions honest and just, and I want you folks
to understand that I’m backing him up. Whatever he
says goes. Anybody that does any, damage to Squinty
will find himself mixed up with me. Now, boys, you
can begin the game.”

One of the guests from the Pine Tree Inn had con-

‘sented to score, and in his book the batting ofders
of the two teams were recorded as follows:

DICK’S TEAM.

Gardner, ss.
Bradley, 3d b.
Buckhart, c.
Darrell, 2d b.
Merriwell, p.
Jolliby, cf.
Flint, lf.

_ Singleton, Ist b.

' Tubbs, rf

SLABTOWN.
Pettinger, p
Driscoll, rf.
McTeague, 3d b.
Barlow, cf.
Saul the Slugger, 1st b.
Bangor, lf.
Nigger, c.
Grimm, 2d b.
Skipp, ss.

Captain Skip sent the home team onto the field.
_ The catcher for Slabtown was a colored man, known

_ Although he had the features of a darky, there was
white blood in his veins, and he was not very dark.

oo . on dar, Pet!” he cried, as he adjusted the

nask and crouched behind the plate. “Jest put de

sery ?” inquired Nigger.
d mt know all de trouble yo" S liable to encounter ram-

Stand oe from

the catcher.
“Mah goodness! chile, yo’

one of ’em correct.

.

Pettinger opened up with a reds straight bail over
the outside corner.

Gardner met it squarely and lifted it into right
field.

A roar of satisfaction went up from the crowd as
Driscoll easily caught the ball,

“Good old Dris!” shouted a voice.
with the goods!”

“Hard luck, Earl,” said Dick, as Gardner trotted
back from first. “You drove it right at that fielder.”

Billy Bradley was the next man up.

“VYo’ bettah strike dis chile out, Pet,”
“‘Tes’ show de boys what yo’ can do.”

Pettinger did his best to show what he could do. He
had a good drop and a wide out curve. He likewise
had sense enough to mix up his curves and change
his pace. As a result he kept Bradley guessing, al-
though Billy fouled the ball seven times before finally
striking out. |

Another roar went up from the crowd as the batter
fanned for the third time.

“That’s the stuff, Pet!”
“Strike ’em all out!”

“Hi’m a ’owling rotten batter, don’t you know!”
grumbled Bradley, as he returned to the bench. “ "Ow
did you ’appen to put me second on the list, Dick?”

“That’s where you belong,” said Merriwell.
“You're a good batter and one of the best bunters.
Had Gardner reached first, you could have sacrificed.
Don’t worry, Billy: We all strike out at times.”

“He’s there

said Nigger. —

shouted many voices.

Brad Buckhart found his pet bat and stepped into , 4

the box, looking ready for anything.
Pettinger whistled over a high one. ;
“One ball!’ squeaked Squinty Jones, as Bart let it —
pass. 3
The next one was too close.
“Two balls!” came from Squinty.
Pettinger followed with a wide one.
“Three of ’em!” said the umpire.
At this point Pettinger registered a kick.
Immediately the crowd set up a howling at Squinty.
“Give Pet a show, Squint!’” “Don’t rob him!”
“You'd better not!” “Be careful, Jones!”

Big Marl had been standing some distance behind
Immediately he stepped forward and —
made a signal that soon silenced the howling of the

crowd.

“T’ve gut nine dollars Bek on this game,” he said.
“I was watching them balls, and Squinty judged every
They was all balls. Now you
squawkin’ critters want to shet your faces. Let me

 
and met it.

give you some advice, Pet. You knew you didn’t git
none of them balls over. Don’t kick in this game un-
less you have something to kick at. Go on and play
ball, the whole of you. If you can’t beat these boys
on the square, you’d better stop playin’ baseball.’’

After muttering awhile to himself, Pettinger pitched
again, using the drop.

Buckhart let it pass.

“Strike one!’ came from Squinty.

“He’s going to wait,” noe Pettinger.
_ the next one straight over.’

As a rule Buckhart would have waited under such
circumstances, but now he swung at the straight ball
He smashed it on a line into the hands
of Skip, who muffed it.

_ Brad made a great run for first, but Skip recovered
the ball and threw across in time to secure the third
oot

Thus the visitors were shut out without a run in
the first inning.

py] put

CHAPTER XIL
DICK’S BAD INNING.

It was different in Slabtown’s half of that inning.
_ Although Dick had plenty of speed, his control was
_ poor, and he found it impracticable to use the com-
_ bination ball. Twice he tried to throw it. The first
_ time Buckhart barely stopped it, and the second time
it went wide for a wild pitch.
Pettinger walked.
at Driscoll was hit by the ball and took first.

_ McTeague smashed a hot one onto the ground
straight at Gardner.
_ Earl placed himself in front of the ball, but the
oon struck a rock, shot into the air and went

veSa “Pm sorry I didn’t
‘money enough to take all Bijah Stump could

night.
players.” | |
“That’s right, my son—that’s right!” said Hee’s —
“I'll guarantee _

“Tr TOP. “WEEKLY. |

“What do you think of your great pal bhpea a now,
Mr. Springer?” mockingly inquired Horace Porter.

“Think of ’em? think of ’em?” snarled the inn-
keeper. “Why, I think jest what I thought in the fust
place. They’re nuthin’ but kids!
baseball with men!”

They can’t play

“Well, don’t feel so bad about it!” laughed Hector. 2

“T’ll provide you with a real baseball-team.”’

“But jest see the time I’m losing!” rasped Springer.
“Jest see haow ridiculous all this business is makin’
me! When I do git a team that can play, neither

Madawaska nor Silver Springs will take any stock —

in it.”

“T’ll give you a team that will make both Mada-

waska and Silver Springs sit up and take notice,” is
“T’m not going back to Pineville to- _

promised Hec.
When I show up there again I’ll have my ball-

father, slapping him on the shoulder.
you'll do the business all right, and you won’t ask any

advance money from Mr. sate the way that fraud,

Wiley, did.”
“Who is it that murmurs my name thus irrever-

ently?” cried a voice, as a short, well-built, dark- faced

young chap in a golf suit appeared beside the forward
wheels of the buckboard. |
“Ahoy on board the good schooner Bucker! Wher

from and whither bound? Methinks I know you and ‘

Ah-ha, Cap’n Springer!

1?

your noble skipper.
more I salubriously salute you!
‘Silas Springer was gasping for breath.
“Drat me if it ain’t Wiley!” he finally curgled.

“T perceive you readily re the classical con- %

tour of my clear-cut countenance,” chirped the new
comer. “Yea, verily and even so, I am the only a
original Cap’n Wiley, arrived at last to see my nobl
boys chew up everything that wears baseball-clothes in
the Blue Hills. Behold them yonder on the diamond
Are they not a rambunctious, delicious, superfine ag:
gregation of Spalding-tossers?” _ gt
“You confounded swindler!” cried Springer, sh
king his fist at the sailor. “How dare you show yo
face in these parts: Reps , ee

“What, ho?” exploded the captain, with an expr.
sion of astonishment. “Is it possible my shell-like
hear aright? Luddy my! Luddy me! y Tu
you talk!” pon

At this moment the crowd uttered another shou
Barlow had met the ball and driven it fiercely 2

~ et

 
Once more the sphere struck a stone or some other
uneven part of the diamond, being deflected to one
side just as Hal Darrell seemed on the point of scoop-
ing it up. It flew past-Darrell, while Driscoll romped
home and McTeague let himself out for third.

_ Chip Jolliby came in from center field as fast as his
Jong legs could carry him. He-took the ball as it came
bounding erratically toward him. He saw McTeague
cross third, with the coacher wildly motioning for
him to score.

2 While still on the jump, Chip lined the Spalding to
Buckhart, who was waiting astride the plate.

Straight as an arrow that ball flew from Jolliby’s
hand into the hands of Buckhardt, who tagged eee
Teague ere the rtinner coud reach the pan.

_ Without losing’-a second, Buckhart whipped the
sphere down to second base, Gardner covering the

Barlow reached second and was declared safe, al-
though the decision was a close one, and it is probable
Squinty Jones followed. the rule under such circum-

tances, which oe the umpire to favor the base-

nner.

The home team had secured two runs.

as out, and there was a runner on second.

The crowd uttered a shout of satisfaction as Saul

One man

he Slugger walked out with a bat on his shoulder.
tA home run, Saul!’ was the cry. “Baste it out!

Pickart trotted down and spoke to Dick.

| “Tt? s all right, pard,” he said.
n a minute. .

ane ll steady down
They can’t all hit you.”

“Tt begins to look as if they can,” returned Dick,
with a doleful smile. “I’m rotten poor to-day, Bart.”

“You're a little wild, but you'll come round. Jest

eep it up.” 3

“Play ball! play ball!” yelled the spectators.

Now it happened that Saul the Slugger was one
of those batters who seemed able to hit anything that
they can reach. Although Dick delivered a high one

iat was fully a foot above Saul’s head, the batsman

t against it with terrific force, and lined it into
outfield, half-way between two of the fielders.

Barlow scored without difficulty, and the Slugger

3 ed third before the ball was thrown back into the

‘WEEKLY.

dream?” he murmured. “Is it possible these Reubens
of the hills are walloping my old side partner, Rich-
ard? Methinks I'll have to peel off my jacket and
toe the slab with my dainty hoof.”

“Look here, you bunco critter!’ snapped Silas
Springer. “I tell you what, you'd better do! You’d ©
better hustle out of these parts as fast as your legs
will carry you! If I find you around here arter the ©
game, there'll be trouble! You’ve raised hob with »
me! Why wasn’t you on hand when you agreed to
be?”

“You agitate the sensitive nerve of my colossal
diaphragm with your harsh, unmelodious manner,”
said the sailor. “Circumstances over which I had
no control kept me away. I was bound by contract
to furnish Adam Hindpaw, the circus man, with a —
frog ‘orchestra. When I made the contract I fancied
IT could turn out a full orchestra of frog musicians in
time to reach here for the opening of the baseball: sea-
son. I found the task somewhat more difficult than
I anticipated, and thus I have been detained. Had I
failed to keep my part of the contract, it would have
cost me an even thousand dollars as a forfeit, which _
sum had been agreed upon and stipulated.in the con- —
tract. I hope this explanation will soothe your feel-
ings and make you more kind and considerate toward —
a much maligned and greatly misunderstood man.” —

Saul the Slugger, grinning broadly, was dancing
off third. :

Bangor, the next hitter, picked out one of Dick's
swift ones and met it.

The ball was lined straight into Merriwell’s bende :
He held it. 3

Not only that, but quick as a flash he snapped it over
to Bradley, who had leaped toward third.

The Slugger attempted to dive back to the base.
Bradley put the ball onto Saul > held it ‘there.
as he shouted :

“Ow is hit? ’ow is hit?”
“Out!” announced Squinty Jones. |

A double play was thus anv but the locals.
had secured three runs.

aren

“CHAPTER XIIL

WHAT HAPPENED IN THE NINTH,

Slabiowner,

;

 
‘TIP TOP

Darrell opened the second inning with a hot drive
at. McTeague, who muffed the ball, but got it across
to first in time for a put-out.

Dick popped up an easy fly to Saul the Sidigenc

Jolliby smashed a long one. into left field, but Ban-
_ gor captured it.

On the other hand, the locals hit onto the ground,
and it seemed impossible to tell what a grounder would
do on that rough diamond. Nigger sent a slow boun-
der at Darrell, who managed to stop it, but fumbled

it, and the darky reached first safely. Grimm put one
through Bradley, and Nigger reached third before
_ Flint got the ball back into the diamond.
_ “Ahoy, there, Cap'n Merriwell!” called Wiley, from
the bench. “I’m agitated by a desire to enter the
_ Struggle. Would it not be advisable for me to relieve
_ your”
“Not yet, Wiley,” answered Dick. “You may warm
up, however, for it’s possible they'll put me to the
_ Stable directly.”
Even while he talked he was Fatebiis Nigger out
- of the corner of his eyes. He saw the darky prancing
off third in a careless manner. At the same time,
Grimm took a lead off first to draw a throw.

Instead of throwing to third, as he had first thought
of doing, Dick snapped the ball into Bob Singleton’s
_ hands.
4. Grimm plunged back to the bag.

_ Singleton made no effort to tag the man, but in-
_ stantly on receiving the ball he whistled it across the

_ diamond. -

a. “Nigger was cut off third, and a moment later they

had him dodging on the line between the sack and
the home plate.

_» “Nebber’ll ketch dis chile in a year!” cried the
ee

e Nevertheless, they did catch him, for Dick got onto
_ the line, took the ball, and ran the colored man down
| in short order.

In the meantime, Grimm had trotted to second and
crossed that bag, holding a position between second
and third, fancying he would be able to take care of
himself no matter what happened.

Without losing a second after tagging Nigger, Dick

kept straight across past third and reached the base-

ine, cutting Grimm off from that sack.

Grimm dodged back toward second.

Dick threw the ball to Darrell, and another runner

; caught between the sacks. From the coaching
Cae howled advice at. Grimm, but the lively young

and put Flint out.

WEEKLY.

possible to escape. He was diced. and the second
put-out was secured by the boys.

The crowd Seer disgustedly.

“Never mind,” ~ Skip. “Every one hits the ball.
We'll keep it going.”

When he tried to keep it going, however, he found

_ the task more than he could accomplish. Three times

in quick succession he was fooled by Merriwell’s —
shoots, and he flung down his bat in disgust as he ©
finally struck out.
“That’s going some, Richard, old man!” chitickleds
Wiley, as he shook hands with Dick. “You crawled |
out of a bad hole. I'll linger yet awhile on the bench —
and watch you toy with these Slabtowners.” om
Luck continued to favor the home team, for Dick’s”
players could not get a safe hit in the third.
In the last of the same inning, however, Merriwell — :
struck his gait, fanning Pettinger and Driscoll and —
forcing McTeague to put up an easy infield fly. From —
that time on until the seventh it was a hot battle,
neither team securing a run, although the visitors’
reached third in two innings, with only one man out.
In the first of the seventh Darrell dropped a bunt
in front of the pan and was safe on first before the
ball reached Saul the Slugger. Merriwell followed
with a bunt toward third.
McTeague fell alk-over himself in trying to handle 2
the ball, and there was no put-out.

“Dern their picters!”’ squeaked Obediah Tubbs
“We've gut ’em going! Keep it up, fellers!” wig

“Why don’t you kids hit the ball?’ snarled a man
in the crowd. “You’re playing a baby game!” —

Chip Jolliby was “onto his job,” and he bunted to-
ward first. Darrell advanced a base while Joly
was being thrown out. :

Dave Flint glanced towatd Dick as he stepped ou
with a bat in his hand.

Merriwell gave Dave a signal.

As Pettinger started to deliver the first ball, Dar
rell leaped off third and dashed for the plate.

The ball was wide, but Flint knew it was up to hirr
to hit it somewhere into the diamond. He reache
far over the pan and mneegte to bat a weak one to-
ward first base. | |

‘Saul the Slugger gathered up the ball, but saw # d

we

glance it would be impossible to prevent Darrell from

scoring. Therefore, he eptane back to the initial ;

Merriwell had reached elral: # f
Singleton dropped a Texas Leaguer-< over ‘the infie

: and anes scent

 
TIP TOP

The crowd was exasperated.

“What are you doing, Pettinger?’ yelled an ex-
cited man. “That's two runs! They'll tie yein a
! minute !”

A number of the angry spectators yelled threats
at the boys, but none of these cries produced any effect
on the youngsters.
Tubbs got against the ball for a terrific smash, but
Barlow gathered in the fly, and the spectators breathed
with relief, for the scoring of the visitors had been
stopped just in time to prevent a tie. |
Merriwell found no difficulty in striking out Barlow.
oo here was a shout as paul the Slugger once more

‘Saul will hit it!” cried many.

Never in his life had Dick tried harder to strike a
patter out. At last he found himself in perfect com-
mand of the ball, and by good head-work he succeeded
in fooling Saul completely, forcing the great slugger

Then a. queer thing happened. Bangor hit a
srounder at Gardner, but the ball took an odd bound
and went over Earl’s shoulder. Jolliby was. rushing
in to back Hal up, and it seemed as if he would secure
the ball easily. As Chip reached for it, the ball took
r ther erratic bound and went past him. Somewhere

yond him it disappeared from view amid some cradle

Vhile Chip. wildly searched for the ball, Bangor

d the bases and came home with another run.

7ah ! yah! yah!” laughed Nigger, as he trotted
it with a bat. “Ah guess Ah’ll hab to slam it a

Jolliby dspiiad a a bunt toward first, ane let his long
is loose. He reached the butiat sack i in safety, ia

‘Git the fat boy, Pet! tu cried Skip.

1 my picter! Pve mt to do silt I" mune

ediah Tubbs, as he waddled out to the Sue

WEEKLY

“That will settle |

#0

front of him.
Pettinger’s head.

Grimm missed it by two feet as he sprang after it.

Away into the field bounded the Spalding.

Barlow tried to secure it, but another bad bound:
carried it past him.

Merriwell raced: home, and Jolliby followed.

With his eyes fairly bulging out of his head, his
fists clenched, his mouth wide open, and his fat legs
working like piston-rods, Obediah Tubbs crossed first,
second, third, and came racing horne.

Once more the ball was lost in center field, and —
Barlow did not find it until fully thirty seconds after _
Tubbs had crossed the pan. a

These three runs put the visitors one in the lead, _
and seemed to infuriate the rough crowd of spectators. - 4

Hector Porter leaped off the buckboard in great ex-
citement and rushed into the crowd, urging every one —
to do something to stop Merriwell’s “rotten streak of —
luck. 2

The Slabtowners needed a little urging. They had o
bet money on that game, and they wanted to win that —
money. Some of them threatened Biiah Stump, who (
was literally choking with laughter as he kept crying:

“T knowed it, by hickey—I knowed it!”

Gardner smashed out a long fly, but it was caught, |
and the scoring of the visitors ceased. |

“Work hard, partner!” cried Buckhart.
‘em! It’s all ours!”

Once more Barlow was the first man to face Dick :

As Merriwell began pitching, the spectators burst |
into a chorus of howls and threats.. They crowded up.
to the side lines, shaking their fists at the cool boy
while they snarled like a pack of wolves.

Dick did not seem a whit disturbed.

He struck Barlow out.

There was a lull. -

“Tt’s Saul’s turn!” cried Marl Boomer. “He'll a
something, boys! Don’t worry! Keep Stil?:.* |

Accepting Big Marl’s advice to keep still, the crowd
waited for the slugger to do something. :

Buckhart called for the combination ball.

Dick started it with a rise, but it changed to a drop
and the batter missed it.

A moment later he missed again. are

The astounded and disgusted Slabtowners seemed
struck dumb for the time being. ! the

The slugger set his teeth and went after the thie

It shot into the air and passed over

“We've got

‘ball, which seemed good.

. The ball. took a sharp i in. shoot and s

 
26 IP TOP

As Dick struck out Saul the Slugger there was an-
other outburst from the crowd. Suddenly the air was
filled with missiles of all sorts which whistled about
the ears of Merriwell and his players. Dick turned and
faced the mob.

Onto the field rushed Big Marl. Many thought he
was going to attack Merriwell. Instead of doing
that, he placed himself in front of the boy, flung up
his clenched fist, uttering a roar of rage.

“Hold on, you critters!” he bellowed. “Stop throw-
ing brickbats! I’ve gut nine dollars bet on this
game, but I’m going to see fair play if I lose it! I’ll
knock the everlastin’ stuffin’ out of the next man
who chucks anything onto this diamond.”

That stopped it. Having subdued the angry crowd,
Boomer told Dick to go on and once more retired.

Then Merriwell struck Bangor out and ended the
game, the youngsters winning by a score of five to

four.

WEEKLY.

And, although his valuable vest lay in tatters on the
ground, Bijah Stump was four hundred and eighty-
three dollars richer than he had been when he came
to Slabtown that day.

THE END.

The Next Number (534) Will Contain

DICK MERRIWELL’S DEMAND;

THE DRAW AT MADAWASKA.

 

Fair Play—Wiley’s Great Frog Orchestra—Mike Grady
of Madawaska—Forcing Brace to Accept—Madge o’
Mad Lake—A Forced Apology—In a Hole—The Cabin
in the Hills—Clever Chester—Some Things Myster-

ious—Twenty-three for Chester.

 

 

ABOUT THE EARLY
NUMBERS OF THE

containing Frank’s adventures.
print.

 

‘ MEDAL LIBRARY
°

1s0—Frank Merriwell’s Schooldays.

TIP TOP WEEKLY

E receive hundreds of letters every week from readers asking if we can supply the early numbers of Tip Top
WJ In every case we are obliged to reply that numbers 1 to 300 are entirely out of

We would like to call the attention of our readers to the fact that the Frank Merriwell Stories now
being published in book form in the Medal Library are inclusive of these early numbers.
was No. 150 entitled ‘‘Frank Merriwell’s Schooldays.’’ We give herewith a complete list of all stories that have been
published in book form up to the time of writing. We will be
Library which is just filled with good things for boys, upon receipt of a one-cent stamp to cover postage.

The first book to appear

lad to send a fine colored catalogue of the Medal

 

MEDAL LIBRARY
No.
271—Frank Merriwell’s Chase.

 

 

‘167—Frank Merriwell’s Chums,
178—Frank Merriwell’s Foes,
184—Frank Merriwell’s Trip West.
189—Frank Merriwell Down South,
193—Frank Merriwell’s Bravery.
197—Frank Merriwell’s Hunting Tour.
201—Frank Merriwell in Europe.
205—Frank Merriwell at Yale.
209—Frank Merriwell’s Sports Afield.
213—Frank Merriwell’s Races.
217—Frank Merriwell’s Bicycle Tour,
225—Frank Merriwell’s Courage.
229—Frank Merriwell’s Daring.
233—Frank Merriwell’s Athletes.
237—Frank Merriwell’s Skill.
240—Frank Merriwell’s Champions.
244—Frank Merriwell’s Return to Yale:
247—Frank Merriwell’s Secret,
251—Frank Merriwell’s Danger.

276—Frank Merriwell in Maine.
280—Frank Merriwell’s Struggle.
284—Frank Merfiwell’s First Job.
288—-Frank Merriwell’s Opportunity.
292—Frank Merriwell’s Hard Luck.
296—Frank Merriwell’s Protégé.
300—Frank Merriwell on the Road.
304—Frank Merriwell’s Own Company.
308—Frank Merriwell’s Fame.
312—Frank Merriwell’s College Chums,
316—Frank Merriwell’s Problem.
320—Frank Merriwell’s Fortune.
324—Frank Merriwell’s New Comedian,
328—Frank Merriwell’s Prosperity.
332—Frank Merriwell’s Stage Hit.
330—Frank Merriwell’s Great Scheme.
340—Frank Merriwell in England. ©
344—Frank Merriwell on the Boulevards.
348—Frank Merriwell’s Duel.
352—Frank Merriwell’s Double Shot.

 

254—Frank Merriwell’s Loyalty.

386—Frank' Merriwell’s Baseball Victories.

 

258—Frank Merriwell in Camp.
262—Frank Merriwell’s Vacation.
267—Frank Merriwell’s Cruise.

 

 

 

 

The Price of the Merriwell Books is Ten Cents per Copy. At all Newsdealers

359—Frank Merriwell’s Confidence.
362—Frank Merriwell’s Auto.
305—Frank Merriwell’s Fun.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

asl al

__ a MR,

oe

‘ ‘ didi

ti
ti

th

 
DLP AOE,

 

 

forthe Anfiéfican Youth _,

 

 

mah

 

 

 

 

NEW YORK, June 30, 1906.

 

 

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

PU MUTHE Uuvcecsdetcodecoieass ‘
4 months... wea COO)
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aa ; STREET & SMITH’S TIP TOP WEEKLY,
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ONS Vea os ccduas once
2 copies one year......
1 copy two years......

 

 

TIP TOP ROLL OF HONOR.
- Following the suggestion of Mr. Burt L. Standish, that appeared

Toppers have won for themselves a place on our Honor Roll for their
efforts to increase the circulation of the King of Weeklies. Get in line
boys and girls and strive to have your name at the head of the list.

_ Henry Harris, President T. T. Club, Macon, Ga.

Marie E. Collins, Gardiner, Me.

 Wm.C. Brown, 112E. Chestnut St,, Goldsboro, N.C.
_ Chas. Engfer, 316 W. 27th St., N. Y. City.
_ Arthur E. Carr, 93 Marianna St., Lynn, Mass.

_ Only a West Virginian, Martinsburg, W. Va.
__H.L. Barkley, 1740 E. Chase St., Baltimore, [Id.
_ John D. Rauch, 2200 Louisiana St., Little Rock,

Ark. Bi
C. C. Gruber, Oxford, [iss.
A. Riechers, San Francisco, Cal.

‘The names of other enthusiastic Tip Toppers will be added from

‘im to time. Send in the result of your efforts to push the circula-
tion of your favorite weekly and win a place on the Roll of Honor.

APPLAUSE. |
Owing to the number of letters received, the editors of Tip Top
ot undertake to secure their publication under six weeks. Those

 

 

e are two girl readers of the Trp Top, and have been read-
it for two years, so we thought we would send a letter to the
use column. We think it 1s the best weekly published, and
reading it ever so much. We like Frank, Bart, Jack D.,
‘Elsie, Doris, June, and also Dick and Brad, and think Joe
wfoot is O. K. nas
this is our first letter, we will make it short. Two Spring-
Id girls, MARGURITE AND MAE.
Springfield, Mass. ayy! above:
We should like to hear from you again.
read your king of weeklies for about ten years, I be-

will not exclude me
ren, and only the sécond in ten .

from one visit to the Applause

WEEKLY.

27

If any readers desire back numbers that they cannot obtain -
from the publishers of Tip Tor, I will be pleased to hear from
them, as I have about two hundred duplicates in my file of five
hundred Tip Tops.

There are several numbers missing from my file, and I wotfid
like to hear from readers having old copies of Tip Tor who
might wish to sell or exchange with me.

Please send me a catalogue of all your publications.

Hoping for the speedy marriage of “dear old Bart,” and wish-
ing Street & Smith and Burt L. Standish the best of success, I
remain, a lifelong Tip Topper. Joun D. Raucs,

2200 Louisiana Street, Little Rock, Ark.

Your name will appear on the Roll of Honor. A catalogue has
been mailed to you.

Frank is my favorite because, I suppose, I read of him first. —
I followed him through Fardale those dear old days, when Bart
Hodge kicked the pup—also the stolen cider which disappeared
from the cellar at Snodd’s residence. CLIFFORD MERRITT.
807 Bergh Street, Asbury Park, N. J.

It was funny how that cider disappeared.

I have read the famous Tie Top for over three years, and
think it is the best weekly ever published. Of the characters of —
-Dick’s friends, I like Brad, Earl, Barron, and Flint, and all the
rest. Of his girl friends, I like June the best. I think she is the
girl for Dick. Of Frank’s friends, I like Bart first, and then
Jack, Hans, Ephraim, Buck, and: Barney. What has become of —
Captain Wiley? We never hear of him now. I hope he will |
appear soon.

I will close now with three cheers for Street & Smith and
Burt L. Standish. FRANK ANDERSON.

Lawrence, Tex.

You like all the fine characters in Tip Top.

I have a very old half-dollar—made in 1830.
1927 Second Avenue, Birmingham, Ala. Henry ARMSTEAD. —

_ It is worth only its face value.

\

Not seeing any names from Arkansas in your Applause pages, —
I think it is my duty to say something of your noted weekly.

I have been reading the Tie Top about three years, and find —
none better. It is just like sitting down to a meal when you sit |
down with a Trp Top. You forget all other things, and when —
you have finished you get mad just because it isn’t longer. Now,
dear reader of the Tip Top, isn’t this a fact? ;

Fayetteville, Ark. An ARKANSAS LASSIE.

There are a great many readers of Tip Top in your State.

ei

As I have been a reader of your weekly for some time, I take —
the liberty of writing a few lines. About six months ago a —
friend handed me a copy of Tip Top, which I read, and thought
it fine, and have been a constant reader ever since. I shall read
it as long as it is published. My favorites are Dick and his set, —
for they seem more like boys. re

I have not a single fault to find, for it is the best weekly
published. Enough praise cannot be said of it. I do love to
read of Dick’s wonderful work in the box, for I am a ball-_
player Sh oy G. S. Neprune. _

Marietta, Ohio. Pi:

The Tire Top WEEKLY is, as you gay, without a fault.

Being a constant reader of the Tip Tor, and admirer of Dick, —
Frank, and their friends, I feel as though I cannot praise it too
highly. I can hardly wait for Friday to come around, so that
I may read the “king of all weeklies.” I take great interest in
reading the Applause column. I noticed a few lady admirers of
Trp Tor. I am a great football and baseball enthusiast.

Aurora, Neb. C. E. Jerreries. —

Keep up your interest in sports. There is nothing like out
door sports to keep one in good condition, both body and mind.

Kindly insert this in Tre Top Applause as soon as possible. _
_. I wish to state that, in answer to my letter in No. 5
one hundred and six post-cards, and am unable to answer all
them at once, I will, however, send three every da

 
    

28 TIP TOP

answered. So just have patience, please. I also wish to state

for the benefit of the letters I received that, as I only had about

two hundred numbers of Tre Tor, they were all traded off before

I had half the inquiries. I now have a great stock of that dear

old weekly to read, and am very sorry I had not more to trade.

With compliments and best wishes to Burt. L. J. S. Loner.
Charlottetown, Canada.

Our friend means to keep faith with readers who have sent
post-cards as he desired, and will see that everybody gets cards
in exchange.

 

I have read Tip Tor for a long time, and I think it a loVely
book. My brother gets it every week, and I can hardly wait to
read them. ELEANOR Hower.

Flint, Mich.

Another young lady who likes Tie Tor, and enjoys it as much
as her brother.

 

Some two years or more ago I made the effort of communi-
cating my sentiments regarding the Tir Top WeEEkty to the
readers of this king of weeklies, but my letter was never pub-
lished, whether because it was too lengthy to be allotted space
in the Applause column, or because it was unworthy of that
space, I do not know. Nevertheless, I shall try once more to
join the ranks of those who look upon the Tie Top as having
been a benefit to them in more ways than one. I have been a
reader of “Burt L.’s” admirable stories from the first number
until the present time, having missed only a very few copies;
and I think that the bare fact of my having followed the ad-
ventures of Frank, and Dick, and their followers for ten years,
or more, speaks more of my opinion of the Tre Top than any
words could ever do. :

The characters are all drawn by a master hand in the art,
and while a few of them are rather contrary to our liking, still
they are essential to the stories, and, because they are essential to
such an admirable end, they must be endured.

That is my opinion of the weekly in a nutshell. C. C. GruBer.

Oxford, Miss.

Your name will appear on the Honor Roll.

 

Having read every number from twenty-four to five hundred
and ten, inclusive, of the finest book published for boys, I take
the pleasure of writing a few lines. Tip Top is, without a doubt,
the best book for boys published. When you read a Tip Top,
you think that you are one of the party that you read about, so
well are the scenes pictured and described.

I am sixteen years old. If any one has any of the copies of
Tip. Tor between one and a hundred, and wishes to sell or ex-
change, please write me. Cuas. M. Peters.

Leavenworth, Kan.

If any of our readers have extra copies, here is a chance to
help a fellow Tip Topper to complete his files.

 

Although I always thought highly of your Tre Tor Weexty,
and never failed to read them each week, I never knew how
much I did like them till I was unable to get them for two weeks.
When dear old ’Frisco was shaken to pieces, and then went up
in flames, everybody had a good deal to think of. What with
finding shelter for the people who lost their homes in the fire,
and providing food for them, and protecting them from thieves,
etc.,,every citizen had his hands full, I had my troubles, as you
can well believe. But when Saturday came along, and there were
no Trp Top WEEKLIEs to be had, I had more trouble, and I was
not the only one, either.

It was then that I found out how much I cared for them, for
I had read them for years and years without missing one. Well,
I thought I would get it next Saturday with the latest one out.
But Saturday came along, finding everybody wearily tramping
the streets and getting into the provision lines, where they re-
ceived an abundant supply of food of every description, so nobly
donated to us from different big-hearted, generous cities and
States in all parts of the United States. And still there was no
Tie Tor to be had. Well, on Saturday I had business across the
bay, in Oakland. Needisss to say, part of it was’ to get my Tip
Top WeEEKkLy. Imagine my disappointment when each book-store
I went to did not have it. In the last place the proprietor ex-
plained that he received them from the San Francisco News
Company, of San Francisco, and that was, of course, burned

WEEKLY.

down. That evening as I sat down to supper—luckily we were
not burned out—I thought what a comfort in these times of dis-
tress. when the people were crowding the streets. I live on a
street farther out from the burned portion, which is now the
main street of the city. It has a number of stores of every
description and an electric. street-railroad. Fillmore Street is
now what Market Street used to be. The Examiner, Chronicle,
Call, Bulletin, and Evening Post have their headquarters all
within a block of me. But to go back again. I will explain
how it would reassure me to be back again with my dear friends,
the Merriwells. I saw the best way to get the Tip Top WEEKLY
would be to send directly to you. Before I bring my troubles
to a close, I would like to say something about Burt L. Stand-
ish’s writings. There are many weeklies in the market. I have
curiously read from each of them, but have never stayed with
any of them. One of the best reasons I have for liking the Tip
Top WEEKLY is that the different things done by Frank and his
brother are not impossible; and the subjects are brought out so
clearly and smoothly that I can see Frank playing a game of
baseball, not alone read it, and the same thing with his brother.
I can describe Fardale from the picture of it in my mind. I
can see Dick Merriwell and his friends gathered together, joking
and laughing in front of the school. In fact, I can clearly see
everything I read about in the Tre Top Weexty. I sometimes
stop and think of the wonderful mind it needs to write those
things the way they are written, and the ingenuity required to
write a different story every week, year in and year out. It is
unbelievable. Now, a mind like that has great influence on all
the boys of America, either for the bad or for the good. It de-
pends upon che way the writer uses it. It happens that the way
Burt L. Standish wishes to use his influence on the boys of
America is strictly for the good. In every story he has written
he has endeavored to teach the reader a lesson of some kind.
He has endeavored to teach the boys by his writings of Frank
Merriwell and his brother to be honest and truthful, not to
smoke, or drink intoxicating liquors; to be an athlete, and to
do many other things that will make a strong and honest man.
But I think I have said enough, if not too much, and will bring
this. letter to a close. Hoping all those who are connected with
the Tre Top WEEKLY will live a long and happy life.
San Francisco, Cal. A. RIECHERS.

The sympathy of the whole world goes out to San Francisco
in her terrible affliction. We all hope for her speedy recovery
from the awful catastrophe. She will rise again greater and

more beautiful than ever. Your name will appear on the Honor
Roll.

 

Readers and friends of Tir Torp—the greatest of them all—
I want you to see that we Mississippians are trying to help build
the circulation of Tip Torp—that glorious book—up, and are do-
ing it among readers and three newspapers.

The following is clipped from the Dixie Herald. See what
it has to say for Burt L. and Tip Top:

““ONLY TOO TRUE.

“‘Burt L. Standish—if that is his real name—writes the best
five-cent weekly in America to-day. He has entitled it Tre Top
WEEKLY, “an ideal publication for the American youth,” but we
think there are tens of thousands of men in this old land of ours
who could take good lessons from Tie Top. It not only shows
you, but almost illustrates, the degradation of whisky-drinking,
gambling, ahd other evil vices. It treats of American talents and
merits, and has pure-minded American characters from start to
finish, and our hope is that Mr. Stand:sh lives a long and a
happy life, as have Jules Verne, Horatio Alger, Jr., Oliver Optic,
Opie Read, Charles Garvice, G. A. Henty, and last, but by no
means least, H. Rider Haggard. We advise every one, young
and old, boys. and girls, to read Tip Top Werxty if they want
good, clean, and pure literature. The two leading characters
are worthy of your praise, and, if some of America’s young
people take example after them, we’d have some very good citi-
zens in this country of ours—The Coahoma Chronicle,’

“The above is only too true.

“We've read Tip Top Weerxty, and have found it all that its
author, Burt L. Standish, and publishers claim for it, ‘an ideal
publication for the American youth,’ and will say it dwells upon,
and advocates all clean, upright athletics, and is against all evil
vices, such as whisky-drinking, gambling, and, in fact, denounces
all kinds of evil dissipations. Mr. Standish certainly deserves
all the praise his many thousands of readers pour upon him,.
Should all boys follow the examples he sets, we'd have a fine lot

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TIP TOP WEEKLW,

of young Amerieana We extend our best wishes to Mr. Stand-
ish and Messrs. Street & Smith for placing such a fine, clean,
pure, and up-to-date publication before our American youths.
A gteat many of our country’s young men will say: ‘Give me
Tie Top first, last, and all the time.’ Its close rival—if rival it
can be called—is the Rough Rider Weekly. While it is a good
publication, it can never be quite as good as Tip Top. Burt L.
Standish is the right man in the right place. There are those
who try to imitate him, but it is a poor imitation.”

How is the above, dear readers?

Let us all work together, and make Tie Top a publication
destined to never’stop. Will you?

Let us endeavor to increase its circulation. Let us all write
and ask Messrs. Street & Smith if they can’t increase Tie Topr’s
pages in reading-matter; to prevail on Mr. Standish to write one
for every three months’ publication that will have at least forty
pages, and come out. as the regular edition, as it once did during
the life of the Mad River League. Can we do it? I hope -so.
May the day come when Tip Top shall reach the home of every
youth in America, from the poorest to the richest. Why? Be-
cause it is the right book, and tries to oppose all evil. We want
to see Captain Wiley back again, too, don’t we, readers? Yes, I
thought so.

I am collecting souvenir post-cards, and will be glad to ex-
change with one and all readers.

Tuos. E. Wess (Tie Tor Thomas).

P. O. Box 143, Pittsbord, Miss.

You are very enthusiastic, and so are the editors of the two
publications devoting so much space to a eulogy of their fa-
vorite weekly. This communication will prove of unusual inter-
est to all our readers.

 

Not having seen any lines from the “Poppy State” for a long
while, permit me a little space in the columns of the Tie Top, the
best literature published by you, to emphasize my appreciation
of the book.

As it has the largest circulation, no other can outdo it; there-
fore, it is the best.

My favorite characters are Frank and his flock, but Dick comes
next with his followers. June is ditto. Eph. Gallup takes my
eye, being the most comical.

This is my first, but not last, letter to the Applause column.

San Rafael, Cal. Birt Macee Maco.

Write us again when the spirit moves you.

 

It has been quite a long while since I sent my last letter to
Applause, so I thought I would just write you a small letter to
tell you how much I am enjoying the stories about Frank’s
great new school, and with what interest I am watching it as
it grows larger and more powerful every week. I am an old
reader of Tip Top, so, of course, I am always delighted when
the only and original Frank Merriwell appears on the scene.

Where is that sweetest of all blond girls that ever lived—Elsie
Bellwood? The last time we heard of her, she was in bad
health, and seemed to be fading away like a delicate flower that
has been ruthlessly pulled up by the roots.

And where is Bart Hodge—brave, loyal, true, noble Bart,
Frank’s old college chum and dearest friend? Dear Mr. Stand-
ish, let ts hear from these twe beautiful characters which are so
dear to the hearts of the old readers especially. Indeed, the new
stories about Frank seem hardly complete without them.

__I wish to say in conclusior that Tip Tor is just as good now,
if not better, than it was in 1896, and I am just as fond of. it
now as I was when I was a “kid.” Cartes E. CocHRANE, JR

3049 W. North Avenue, Baltimore, Md.

A large number of the old readers prefer Frank to Dick, but
both the brothers are noble young men.

 

TI want to applaud Tir Top, one of the best books ever writ-
ten. The way I came to hear about Tip Top was this: One morn-
ing I went into the news-deaier’s, and I looked for something to
read. There was a Tip Top and another book. I put the Tip
Top in my pocket, and began to read it later. I thought it just
fine. I think Doris is for Dick. I like Brad as good as any of
them. They are all fine characters. I’m a baseball-player, and
I like it; when I play, I like to do my best. Tie Top No. 518
was just fine. Dale was the only thing—it would be hard for

me to tell what sort of a chap he really was, but I suppose
Frank will soon find out. As for those other boys, they ought .

20

to be ashamed of themselves for the whole bunch to pile onte
him at once. They got their just deserts, too, before they quit.
Box 175, Springville, Utah. O. P. Senior.
It was a lucky day for you when you went into the book-store
and saw Tip Top for the first time.

 

My letter praising Tre Top WeEEKLy was published ten days
ago, and in it I mentioned I was collecting souvenir post-cards;
since my letter was printed, I have received one hundred and
fifty. This shows how much Tie Top is read. The cards are
still coming, too. I received a card from Allentown, Pa., which
had a picture of a court-house, and had silver-looking trimmings
on it, and there was no name signed to it. If the person will
send me his name, I will promptly return one.

In conclusion, I will say that I will read Tre Tor WeeExty as
long as possible. Merritt Lyon, Jr.

1ro Lawrence Street, Marietta, Ga.

You are a very conscientious young man, and appear to want
to treat with fairness all readers who have sent you souvenir
cards.

 

I have read Tip Top, the king of weeklies, for years. I re-
member, when my older brother read them, the first one I ever
saw. Iam only fifteen, and you can see the great treat 1 missed
when I missed reading them. I have read a few very old num-
pers: “Playing Ball Against the Soldiers,” “Dick Merriwell’s
Nerve,” “Frank Merriwell’s Energy,” “Frank Merriwell; or,
Schooldays at Fardale.” I have read about Frank’s early career,
in the Medal Library. I must say that, of all the weeklies I
ever read, Tip Tor is the king. Nobody ought ever to be
ashamed to let people know that they read Tip Tor. Looking
back when Frank was battling for\ the glory of Fardale and
Yale sends a thrill of happiness over a person. I was only six
or seven when I read my first Trp Top.

Frank and Dick Merriwell are truly splendid specimens of
American manhood.

Mr. Burt Standish is an author of high character, and it is
shown by what he puts in these clean stories. Bart Fo.ey.

Evans City, Pa.

There is nothing objectional in the stories, but they are clean
and wholesome.

 

As I have not seen a letter from this place, I thought I would
take the liberty to write one. I think Tie Tor the best book I
have ever read, and think it is getting better every week. I do
all I can to circulate Tre Top around here. I let the boys read
one, and after they read one they can’t stop reading them.

The characters I like best are Frank, Dick, Brad, Obey, Bart,
and Diamond.

I have read Applause letters that didn’t say anything very good
about Bart, but I think he is one of Frank’s most loyal friends.

Box 11, Forked River, N. J. J. Grant HoiMeEs.

Though this is your first letter, do not let it be your last.

 

I have been reading Trp Top WereExty for over two years now,
and like it very much. The way I happened to read them was
this: One day my brother brought one of them home, and it lay
around the house for over a month. My brother still kept bring-
ing them home, until he had a large pile of them up in his room.
One Sunday I wanted something to read, so I went up to his
room and began looking at the pictures of the Tre Tors. They
looked very ‘interesting, so I started reading one. I kept on
treading and reading. I forgot to go down to supper. Mama
thought that I must be asleep, so she came up-stairs and caught
me reading Tre Top. She scolded me for it, and I told her
that they were fine stories, and for her to read one. So, what
do you-suppose she did? She read one, and before the week was
over she had read them all. There are six of us in the family,
and we all read Tre Top. We often quarrel as to who should be
the first one to read it.

I think No. 518, “Frank Merriwell’s New Boy; or, The Folly
of Dale Sparkfair,” is just) splendid—the way he fooled all of
those boys. I think Guy Featherstone and those other fine boys
got just what they needed. ETHEL GALLAGHER.

Benson, Minn.

We have many readers like Ethel, who have become confirmed
Tip Toppers since reading their first number of the weekly and
finding out how delightful it is.

 
NT ER a ee

QUESTIONS

  

Pror. Fourmen: Having been a reader of Tie Top for two
years, I thought I would take the liberty to ask you a few ques-
tions. I am 17 years old, and weigh only 98 pounds. My height
is 5 feet 3 inches. I would like you to tell me what exercises I
should take, and what I should eat to gain in weight. I used to
smoke cigarettes, but I do not any more. G. I. Apcar.

Dunellen, N. J.

By consulting a few of the back numbers of Tir Top, you will
see several answers in reference to eating for the purpose of in-
creasing weight. Follow the instructions you find therein, and
you will achieve the desired results.

 

Pror. FourMEN: As a reader of Trp Top I take the liberty to
ask these questions. These are my measurements: Age, 16 years;
weight, 142 pounds; height, 5 feet 7 inches; neck, 14 inches;
chest, contracted, 32 inches; normal, 35 inches; expanded, 37
inches; waist, 29 inches; hips, 36 inches; thighs, 1914 inches;
calves, 14 inches; biceps, 12% inches; forearm, 1114 inches.
1. How are my measurements? 2. What are my weak points?
3. How much should I weigh? 4. How can I strengthen my
weak points? “A MERRIWELL ADMIRER.”

Arkville, N. Y.

Your weight is all right. Use ‘dumb-bells to develop your
arms. Punch the bag to enlarge your chest a trifle.

 

Pror. FourMENn: I am 15 years 5 months old. My measurements
are: Height, 5 feet 114 inches; weight, 103 pounds; forearm, 9
inches; calves, 12 inches; thighs, 1714 inches; biceps, 10 inches;
chest, normal, 2812 inches; expanded, 32% inches; waist, 24
inches; neck, 12 inches. 1. Am I too small? 2, Am I under weight?
3. Please state my weak and strong points, and how I may im-
prove weak ones. 4. I rise at 5:30, and take a two-mile run. Is
this healthy? 5. I use one-pound dumb-bells; are they heavy
enough for me? 6. I keep away from candy and other sweets,
as well as coffee, tea, and cigarettes, and eat fruit before meals.
Am I right in doing so? 7. The other day I ran six miles, and
my calves pained me for a day after. Is that bad? 8. If I
should eat flesh-producing foods, would I then have superfluous
flesh ? é Hector Loven.

New York City.

Your chest and arms should be larger, though the calves and
thighs are all right. Your chest expansion, however, is excellent.
The neck is about right, but your waist is below normal. Your
weight is not bad; you only need about four or five pounds
added to bring you up to standard. Keep up the early rising
and morning run; they’re good for you! Your dumb-bells are
heavy enough. In answer to your sixth question, I answer, most
emphatically: “Yes!” Let your running lead up gradually to the
six-mile mark, and you won’t get tired so easily. A person of
your build need not worry about superfluous flesh caused by
eating fat-producing foods. Your daily exercises will help con-
vert it into good hard muscle. If you find that you are running
to fat; let me know, and I will tell you what to do to get rid
of it. '

 

 

ARID

 

  
    

ee

PROF. FOURMEN

 

é

Pror. FourMEN: I am 17 years old; my height is 5 feet 8
inches; neck, 1314 inches; chest, 3334 inches; expanded, 36%
inches; biceps, normal, 914 inches; expanded, 1134 inches; fore-
arm, 10 inches; thigh, 20 inches; calf, 13 inches; weight, 118

pounds. I can chin myself 25 times. I take deep-breathing exer- —

cises before going tobed. I swing 114-pound Indian clubs, and hold
my arms out horizontally, and roll them back, making a circle
about a yard wide. I open and close the hands as fast as I can. Igo
to bed leaving the windows open about eight inches at the bottom,
and also leave the door open, because I can’t open the windows
at the top. I do not smoke, chew, or drink, and do not use tea
or coffee. I am fond of all athletic outdoor sports, and par-
ticipate in them all. Do you need to chew oatmeal? I eat for
breakfast one-half grape-fruit and one dish of oatmeal. For
lunch, at noon, I eat all I can. For supper, I eat a couple of
slices of bread, drink three or four glasses of water, and one
cup of cocoa. I do not eat cake, but quite a lot of pie and candy.
Norwich, Conn. A Rosesup or “THE NutMeEc STATE.”

You have the right idea about exercising, but not in respect to ,
Exercise with dumb-bells and Indian clubs for

your meals.
about fifteen minutes morning and evening. Also practise the
rest of the United States Army exercises without apparatus. Not
only oatmeal, but all food should be thoroughly masticated. A
light breakfast such as you are in the habit of eating is a good
plan to follow. At the noon hour eat as much as the system
demands, but take care not to overload the stomach. Your eve-—
ning meal is bad. Never drink great quantities of water with
your meals, so that your stomach floats around like a country
road in a spring freshet. Always drink after your meals, and
let it be a glass of milk or a cup of cocoa. The supper you
describe would be too light for most of us. If it agrees with
you, all right, but, as you are under weight, it looks as if it
doesn’t. Eat everything at the table except cake, candy, and

pie.

 

Pror. FourMEN: Being a constant reader of Tir Top, and
needing your advice, I will send my measurements: Height, 5
feet 9 inches; weight, 145 pounds; neck, 1414 inches; chest, 35
inches; expanded, 38 inches; waist, 26 inches; thigh, 1934 inches;
calf, 14% inches; forearm, 1014 inches; biceps, 10 inches; flexed,
12 inches. I neither smoke, chew, nor drink; do not drink tea
or coffee. I am having a bad time with my stoniach and liver.
My eyes are weak; were not before*“my liver was affected. Is
that the cause? I go to bed at 9 or 9:30, rise at 5:30. Is that
all right? Sleep with my windows open—is that healthy? Would
you advise a morning cold bath? I work ten hours a day, and
work hard; walk 114 miles to work. Would you advise any
other exercise? I wish you would be kind enough to send me
a daily regimen, so I can cure myself. I have been taking heavy
dumb-bell exercise. I am very weak, and have boils, Nearly
always my feet and hands are cold. Would you advise me to
follow Frank Merriwell’s “Book of Physical Development”? I
have it. Would morning runs help my health? Frep Atren.

Lestershire, N. Y.

Your weight is not bad, though you need a few pounds more.

First thing you do, fast a day, and two, if you can stand it.

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» Avoid greasy foods and gravies. Learn to like fruit, and
eat plenty of it. Take ten minutes’ exercise on getting up, and
follow with a sponge bath. Take a hot bath at night. Your
yours are all right, and I can’t complain of your sleeping ar-
fangements. Now that summer weather is here, you could take

_a short morning run to good advantage. After working hours
play baseball with your friends. Just practising batting and

Bits with recreation—a happy combination. .Give up heavy
dumb-bells for the present. Keep in the air as much as possible.
Follow the instructions in Frank Merriwell’s volume on physical
development. To tone up your stomach, drink before breakfast
little water in which half a lemon has been squeezed. Use no
gar. Follow these simple rules, and you will find a marked
improvement in a few weeks’ time.

Prov. FourMEeN: I am I5 years eld wweietiy 96 pounds; height,
feet 8 inches; chest, 29 inches; expanded, 30% inches; biceps,
II inches; forearm, 12 inches; neck, 12 inches; calves, 12 inches;
thighs, 20 inches ; waists, 514 inches. How can I increase my
weight ? . P. WEBSTER.
Bristol, Tenn.

You need exercise to develop your arms, legs, and chest,
ndian clubs, dumb-bells, and pulley weights.

Use
Eat plenty of

3

paper for some time, I take the liberty of asking you a few
questions. My age is 15; height, 5 feet 4 inches; neck, 11%4
inches; chest, normal, 29 inches; expanded, 30 inches; calf, 11
inches; biceps, 9 inches; forearm, 8 inches; waist, 28 inches;
thigh, 15 inches. I am very slim, and would thank you very
much if you would tell me in what way I can begin to imprové
my form. I am using a punching-bag’ now. A READER.
Florence, Ala.

You have a very small chest expansion, but your use of the
punching-bag will do it good. Take deep-breathing exercises
three times a day. Eat fattening foods to put flesh on you.

Pror. Fourmen: The following are my measurements: Height,
5 feet 7% inches; biceps, 12%4 inches; forearm, 11 inches; waist,
273% inches; chest, contracted, 30% inches; expanded, 3334
inches ; thigh, 19 inches; calf, 134° inches; neck, 13% inches.
How-long should one punch the punching-bag? What muscles
do the punching-bag improve? I have begun lowering and
raising myself on my toés one hundred times. F, W C.

Norfolk, Va.

You ought to weigh about 145 pounds. Punch the bag till
you get tired, and then stop; never force yourself to exercise
beyond endurance. It is good for the muscles of the arms and
the chest.

 

 

“GOLDEN HOURS.”

Boys, have you any old numbers of Golden Hours?
Will pay liberally for Nos. 1 to 23 to complete my files.
If you have any of these: numbers, write me.
Address WIL.Iams, Station ‘‘O,” Box 24, New York City.

 

 

 

TIP TOP BASEBALL TOURNAMENT IS NOW OPEN.

 

The two teams which, at the end of the season, have the highest average—the members of which
=: iy the greatest number of games, score the most runs and have lost the least number of games, will be
_ declared the winners. Of the two winning teams, the one having the higher average will be declared the

TIP TOP CHAMPIONSHIP TEAM OF THE ALL-AMERICAN BASEBALL TOURNAMENT FOR 1906,
and will receive a large pennant bearing the above device.

_ fornine members, consisting of trousers, shirt, stockings, shoesand cap.

Reh. DON’T FAIL TO SEND IN YOUR COUPON AT ONCE.
’ No notice taken of any score not entered on this coupon. Coupons must be properly made out. One coupon for each game,

Each winning team will receive a full equipment
Isthisnot worth working for, boys?

 

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-- WINNER.......... egabdicat i ALcu Soe sseeee- PINAL te biecises

TIP TOP BASEBALL TOURNAMENT COUPON.

cNAme UP TRAM ia essa rrerti aie e TOWN Hi ite ie. ks essainsO TA DBuscbecceswanssccia OPPONENT’S NAMB

NAMES OF TEAM.

POSITION.

Pitcher
Catcher

2d Base
3d Base
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TPP PROS OS ESSERE ONE EOE Rare eee ewe AO Ree RRO UU EERE EE eee ewe ee

 

 

 

 

 

 
 

‘THE ROUGH RIDER WEEKLY

 

ISSUED EVERY MONDAY.

HANDSOME COLORED COvER

 

Ted Strong wants to make your acquaintance, boys, and we are

convinced that you will be proud

tales of his adventures, among the cowboys are full of fascinating

interest. He is known to every o

and he upholds the title.

ee

to have him as a friend. The |

Ne

ia
¥s

ne as “King of the Wild West” 5

 

x ane FTN

PRICE FIVE CENTS PER COPY

For sale by all newsdealers, or sent, by the publishers to any

address upon receipt of price In money or postage stamps

 

HERE ARE THE LATEST TITLES:

o8—King of the Wild West’s Horsethief; or, The
Enigma of Lost Springs.
og—King of the Wild West’s Chase; or, The Rescue
of Yuen Ho.
-100—King of the Wild West’s Meteor; or, The Race for
the Klondike Diamond.
1o1—King of the Wild West in Siberia; or, Castaway on
| the Arctic Ocean.
102—King of the Wild West’s Haunt; or, Stella’s Escape
rom Sacrifice.
103—King of the Wild West’s Dive; or, The Finding of
the “Golden Baby.”
104—King of the Wild West’s Guard; or, Stella’s Long
Shot.
105—King of the Wild West’s Posse; or, Stella’s Own
Vigilance Committee.
106—King of the Wild West Ceitdercid or, Stella’
to the Rescue.
107—-King of the Wild West’s Brand; or, How Stella
Held the Fort.
108—King of the Wild West’s Campaign ; or, How Stella
Won the Victory.

 

109—King of the Wild West’s Booty; or, Stella Find
the Pirate Loot. é
110—King of the Wild West’s Success; or, Stella and the
Marked Bill.
111—King of the Wild West’s Daring; or, Stella’s Great
Lariat Throw. ;
112—King of the Wild West’s Key; or, Stella in hee
Hidden Vault.
113—King of the Wild West’s “Hassayamper” ; or, Stella é
in the Death Cavern. iy
114—King of the Wild West’s Strength; or, Stella on
the Cattle Ranch. .
115—King of the Wild West’s Danger; or, Stella Bis
the Hopis. “
116—King of 12 Wild West’s Gulch Diggings; or,
Stella’s Star Role.
117—King of the Wild West’s Motor-Car;
Fosdick’s. Peril. . a
118—King of the Wild West’s Duty; or, Stella Ce ¢
Away in the Wilderness.
119—King of the Wild West’s Wild-Goose Band; o:
Stella’s Long Flight.

or, Stella

 

 

IF YOU WANT ANY BACK NUMBERS

of our libraries and cannot procure them from newsdealers, they can

be obtained from this office direct. Cut out and fill in the felted

ing ea blank and send it to us with the price of the books you want and we will send them to you by return mail,

MPS TAKEN THE SAME AS MONEY.

STREET & SMITH, Publishers, 79 Seventh Avenue, New York City.
Gentlemen :—Enclosed find........ cents for which please send me:

Suse Sai copies of Tip Top
** Nick Carter

WORT ee Vea ey beware oer «
DF Dan ph a Ana. A MES a a Ege

$6 Dig DICH INGE i463 vink oo vee CaN oad Cows

- Buffalo Bill |
*: Brave and Bold Noa. 668s coe ae on ciaewee
4“ Rough Rider

DIOR iF LER VEN ANT RC cle hn bon ok

NOR CK chai iby wIL hc MRI bIG Tee alate

 
 
THE FAVORITE LIST

OF FIVE-CENT LIBRARIES

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

the Redskins.
BILL STORIES.

 

;

BUFFALO BILL STORIES

Buffalo Bill is the hero of a thousand exciting adventures among
These are given to our boys only in the BUFFALO
They are bound to interest and please you.

 

 

 

 

Tere

 

 

NEN ay
pf arene

 

MIGHT AND MAIN

These are stories of the adven-
tures of boys who succeeded in
climbing the ladder of fame by
honest effort. No more inter-
esting tales can be imagined.
Each number is at least one-third
longer than the ordinary five-
cent library.

BRAVE AND BOLD

Every boy who prefers variety
in his reading matter, ought to

A: be a reader of Brave and Bold.

All these were written by authors

\§ who are past masters in the art

of telling boys’ stories. Every

a) tale is complete in itself.

NICK CARTER WEEKLY

We know, boys, that there is
no need of introducing to you
Nicholas Carter, the greatest
sleuth that ever lived. Every
number containing the adven-
tures of Nick Carter has a peculiar,
but delightful, power of fascina-
tion.

Ted Strong was appointed dep-
uty marshal by accident, but he
resolves to use his authority and
rid his ranch of some very tough
bullies.
way that

 

 

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“King of the Wild West” and he |) “©

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The demand for stirring stories

Puig UN) of Western adventure is admir-

 

ei ably filled by this library. Every

Pew up-to-date boy ought to read just
a “ 7/| how law and order are estab-
Rs 74 | lished and maintained on our
194 | Western plains by Diamond Dick,
433) Bertie, and Handsome Harry.

 

BOWERY BOY CIBRARY

The adventures of a poor waif
whose only name is ‘‘Bowery
Billy.”
of the streets of New York. No
boy can read the tales of his trials
without imbibing some of that
resource and courage that makes
the character of this homeless boy
stand out so prominently.

Billy is the true product |=

 

 

 

 

 

opment.

THE TIP TOP WEEKLY

Boys, Frank Merriwell has opened a school of physical devel-
He has gathered all of his old-time comrades about him
and their adventures are wonderfully interesting. These are cer-
tainly the best tales of athletic adventure.