nN YOU Edwards whirled looked downward. At the same i instant Dick peered over the back of the chair in front. It empty—the bag was gone. a ea a ate Issued Weekly. By subscriptic ton $2.50 Jer year. Entered as Second-class Matter atthe N. V. Post Office, by STREET & SMITH, 79-89 Seventh Ave., Copyright, 1910, dy STREET & SMITH. No. 758. NEW YORK, October 22, 1910. Price Five Cents. % By, CHAPTER I. Bt ON THE MERCHANTS’ LIMITED. Although the dark, ‘threatening war cloud which, not so very long ago, seemed to be rolling irresistibly upon’us from the far East, has dissipated into harm- less little fleecy cloudlets, and the so-called Yellow Peril ’ has been found to exist. mainly in the columns of the yellow journals, still there isn’t a shadow of a doubt that spies from many nations continue to pursue their secret calling in all parts of the United States where ae there is something of value 'to be learned. ' The time-worn saying, “Tn time of peace prepare for war,” expresses, tersely and accurately, a fundamental, underlying principle of diplomacy which is practiced _ by every one of the great world powers. No government worthy the name neglects to strain every effort, send forth its cleverest emissaries, leave no stone unturned to discover vital facts concerning fortifications, armament, bases of supplies, and a thou- ‘sand and one details about its neighbors. While these same neighbors are doing their very best to keep their | ow n affairs a secret, and to discover, in their turn, all any can about every other rival @ation: * Dick Merriwell, American: ; ‘OR, THE MAN FROM JAPAN: Et | By BURT L. STANDISH. . ‘As a result, each country is overrun with an army of spies of both sexes, who are to be found in every walk of life, from the drawing room of the aristo- crat to the lowest dives in the slums of great cities. « It is a curious calling, perilous and uncertain, but not without an alluring charm of excitement and danger. For those who indulge in it have to depend upon themselves alone. Once caught, they can count on no help from the government which employs them. They are men without a country, and they must stand or fall by their own efforts. One of the most progressive nations in the world, Japan, sends her spies everyw here. It makes no dif- ference whether she is on friendly terms with a govern- ment, for friendship plays no part in the wonderful game of diplomacy, and the ally of to-day may quite possibly develop into the enemy of to-morrow. Her ‘emissaries are to be found wherever there is informa- tion to be gained, and it would be difficult to say how - many of them are scattered over the United ‘States, burrowing along in their secret, underground way, quiet, unassuming, uninteresting. Ostensibly they pur sue some innocent trade or calling; daily they rub el- 6 Tir Se bows, or are on friendly terms, with scores of people who would never suspect their real identity in a life- time. Only the secret agents from Washington suspect, and sometimes know; and their identity is as carefully hidden as that of the spies themselves, The Merchants’ Limited was just pulling out of the Grand Central Station when a youngish-looking man of thirty, carrying a well-worn bag and neatly rolled umbrella, walked through the rear drawing-room car toward the one ahead. He had dashed across the platform just in time to swing aboard the last car before the doors were closed, | but, except for his slightly irregular breathing, he showed no signs of haste or disturbance. Presently, encountering a porter, he set his bag down in the middle of the aisle, taking out a thick wallet, produced his seat check and handed it to the man without a “Three cahs ahead, sah, ing it back to him. The young man made no comment, but, restoring check to his wallet, and the latter to his pocket, he picked up the bag and resumed his leisurely stroll through the train. Five minutes later he was comfortably installed in his chair, hat in the rack, traveling cap on his head, ap- parently oblivious to everything but the newspaper which he had taken out of his pocket the moment he and, word. ’ the negro remarked, giv- he - gat down. He was a good example of a very familiar type which one meets everywhere—the young business mati. _ His clean-shaven face was neither good-looking nor overpoweringly homely; his hair was of a nondescript shade of brown, which his eyes seemed to match. He was neither fat nor thin, his figure being of that con- venient sort which takes a ready-made suit without altering. His clothes were of good, though conven- ‘tional cut, dark of color and inconspicuous in texture. His whole appearance, in fact, was strikingly con- ventional and uninteresting; he was not at all the sort He did not look exactly like a eee man, bik he might have been a lawyer, broker, engineer, or ,a eile man of business. W hateyer he was, he seemed pitials ie S. 'B. ” WEEKLY. The train had scarcely passed the Harlem station before the traveler’s interest in his paper seemed to wane, and, folding it up, he laid it on the seat beside him. It might have been noticed, had any one taken the trouble to glance over his shoulder, that he had spent that time in an exclusive study of the market quotations. Having disposed of the paper, he glanced idly out of the window and yawned. Then he looked carelessly about the ear and, apparently. not finding anything to interest him in his fellow passengers, yawned again. At last, after drumming thoughtfully for some time on the window sill with one finger, to the extreme an- noyance of an elderly gentleman sitting next to him, he — drew a number of letters and papers from his‘ pocket and, spreading them out in his lap, began to look them over. | The letters were all addressed to Mr. George S. IXdwards, 42 Wall Street, New York, ia various*styles of type, and most of them postmarked “New York.” One or two were addressed to Joyce & Edwards. Apparently they were business communications, and not particularly interesting ones at that; for the young man barely glanced through some of them, while others he did not take from the envelopes. Those which he did read bristled with such terse phrases “Buy 100 shares of Steel Common at market “sell 400 shares of P. D, & as: price for my account ;” or, O..at 64 flat From all of which it would seem quite plain that our friend was a broker, but appearances are apt to — be deceptive. | Vat oe Presently he came to a perfectly plain envelope, ad- dressed in perfectly ordinary type, but with the ad- — dition of the single word, “Personal,” in thé lower left-hand. corner, It was postmarked “‘Washington.” 4 For an instant Edwards looked at it casually, “ ie then, drawing out the single sheet it contained, le dropped theenyelope, face down, among the pr in? his lap, ; Had any of the other people in the car been watching — him intently—which they were not—they would have — seen that, as he unfolded the sheet of paper, he did it in such a way that neither the man sitting back of him, - nor the one in front, or even a person passing along the aisle, could get. the slightest glimpsé of what it — contained. But it was all done so discreetly, and with so little an appearance of premeditation, that not one man ina thousand would haye noticed it. — Having taken these precautions, he began to read pire rlbane tow links the paper contained. | ; TeP A Tae It was certainly an odd sort of document for a broker to receive. There was no address, no heading. The . sheet was quite blank except for half : f of close type. It began abruptly without even a super- - scription. Tlie end—it lacked any sort of a signature —was equally terse: a dozen lines . “Japanese, five feet four, slim, sallow, forehead a broad, mouth small, eyes with very little slant, eye- -§ brows thin, hair thick and wiry, ears very close to head, teeth perfect, hands small, slim, no callousness. A crescent-shaped birthmark just below his left shoul- der blade. Age impossible to determine. Might be | anything between twenty and thirty. He dresses in @ ~~ dark grays, blues, and blacks. Clothes well made. f Something of a dandy. He is the same man you found taking photographs of works at Fortress Monroe and warned. It is supposed that he will try to obtain plans of Governors Island, and possibly of Boston Harbor. t Calls himself Kintaro; first name unknown. Passes as ae a tourist. You know what to do.” Edwards re- turned it to the envelope, glanced through another order for stocks, and then restored the mass of papers to his pocket. slipped from -* among them and fell to the floor, face upward on the carpet. It was a very ordinary busi- ‘ness card, of which millions ate printed every year, and underneath the name of George S. smaller Sy pe, was the legend : “Joyce & Edwards, Brokers.” ; This would seem to prove conclusively that the un- interesting traveler's name was I:dwards, and that he ‘but in reality both ‘these Having read the missive carefully, As he did so, a card where it lay Edwards, in AK was a New York broker; simple statements were false. The man’s name was not Edwards at all, and, though he posed as a broker, even to the extent of having an office in Wall Street, and a partner—who attended ,to most of the business—his actual occupa- ~ tion was something far different from that. ‘He was a secret agent in the employ of the depart- ment of State at Washington. fi» ' CHAPTER II. THE SECRET AGENT. Just what George Edwards’ name really was would & be hard to discover. He had carried the cognomen of Edwards for the past five years, and had made a ‘benefited his native country. number of friends in New York, PoriOn, and otter WEEKLY. 3 laces in the East who never had a doubt that it was 3ut when he first entered the employ of over twelve years had Even Pp his real one. the State department, something ago, he had been known as Randal Norris, and worn a Jong silky mustache on his upper lip. Norris was not the name to which he had been born. He had preferred to keep that to himself. As Randal Norris he had done amazingly good work in China and Japan, where he posed as a bank clerk, and actually put in six hours a day working on ledgers. Unfortunately, however, his personality became too well known for him to be of service to the department, so he rettirned home, shed his mustache, took an- other name, and started afresh in New ‘York. His chief conceded him to be one of the most valu- able men in the service, and intrusted him with many of the most important problems in the East, which con- sisted mainly in ferreting out suspicious foreigners and taking care that they did not obtain any informa- tion which their country should not have It was an absorbing life and not entirely without danger. Edwards enjoyed it immensely, for under- neath his somewhat commonplace exterior was a fertile, brilliant mind,, quick wit, and an absolutely limitless amount of nerve. A simple, unadorned statement of the incidents of his twelve years of service would have sounded like a fairy tale. He had seen almost every country on the globe, and was almost as much at home in the far East as in New York. His life had been in direct peril more times than even he could remember; and, while he had made many pleasant friendships in the course he had also acquired an even of his w anderings, greater number of the bitterest enemies. ) But, for all that, he loved his work and w ould not” have given it up for anything in the world. . He loved the thrilling excitement of it, the sense of power. Even the very uncertainty of it, and the fact that he was al- most entirely dependent upon his own efforts, had an alluring fascination. But perhaps the thing which kept bith keyed up to a high pitch and made him give out the very best which was in him was an overpowering love of country. He — was an American to the very core, and every piece of work successfully carried through to a finish, every foreign spy detected, forced to return to his ‘own land, | or taken care of in some other equally effective man- fier, appealed to him, first of all, as something which i€ Edwards was possessed of an ideal temperament for this sort of work. He had a distinct liking for it; at ber ee he was calm, cool-headed, and steady, while his out- ward appearance was inconspicuous almost to a point of nonentity. He was so like the hundreds men whom one rubs elbows with every day that no one ever thought of him as anything other than what he seemed. “In addition to all this, he possessed to an : extraordinary degree that rare deceptive quality of ap- i parent youth and inexperience; of other he was one of those men who never seem to grow old. Though much nearer forty than thirty, his fresh coloring and naive, boyish enthusiasm made him seem riot more than twenty-eight or nine. He had sometimes passed for even less than that, and it was an immense help to him in his work. Naturally he was a man who kept his own counsel. e Even sis partner in the brokerage firm, though he -. knew that Edwards had some outside interest, had hy . . % absolutely no idea of its nature. He had grown ee accustomed to the occasional absences of days—some- | a time; and as soon as he discovered that no amount ot hints, or even downright question- ings, were productive of information concerning them, he gave up trying to find out what Edwards was evidently determined to keep a secret, and learned to take the man as he found him. | stantly following up some case. On the contrary, there were sometimes weeks at a time when he never left the Wall Street office; for his chief, knowing that his value depended in a great measure on the maintenance of his laboriously constructed identity as a bona fide _ business man, only called upon him in cases of vital im- portance, and generally those which would not take him far from New York. ‘ The present instance was one of that sort. Ed- wards remembered very. well his accidental stumbling across the man in question at Fortréss Monroe, whither winter. interior fortifications with an ingeniously constructed camera which he had smuggled in under his coat, and had warned him off the place. The fellow put up a _ clever bluff at beirlg 4 wealthy Japanese traveling for pleasure and instruction—had, indeed, worked the innocent racket to perfection; but Edwards was hot deceived. He had reported the matter to his chief as he passed through Washington, but since that time had 1eard nothing more of it. Now it appeared that the fellow was at it haein. | WEEKLY. It must not be supposed that Edwards was con-, _ he had gone for a week’s vacation early in the past \y He had caught the Jap taking photographs of the» ‘the next car, and presently he began to wonder whether — The moment he received his instructions from Wash- . ington, I:dwards had sent a brief warning message to i Governors Island, so that they might be on the look- out. In cases of this sort he did not appear personally unless it was absolutely necessary, buty instead, com- . | municated with various government employees of high standing under still another name, which had been properly vouched for by the State department. A couple of days later he had received word that Kintaro, as he called himself, had appeared at the Island, in the usual guise of a sightseer and had been | § politely, but firmly, detained at the wharf and returned 2 to the Battery by the same boat. ce Then it was that Edwards himself took up the thread, found his man stopping at the Palace Hotel, shadowed him skillfully, and, discovering that he had reserved a chair to Boston that afternoon, had just managed to throw a few t things into a bag and catch the Be cet, same train. 34 As he sat there, his head resting comfortably against the cushioned back, his eyes half closed, he looked like aman just dozing off for.a little nap, whereas he was a thinking intently over the problem and planning just =} how he should proceed. ' Unfortunately he had as yet not accumulated snffi- cient proof to warrant any radical steps. While he might be sure in his own mind that Kintaro was a spy, that was not enough. Extraordinary care had always to be exercised in these cases: for should he, by any chance, cause an innocent man to be deported, the consequences were apt to be serious, and even international complications — might result from too great haste. + No, he must patiently bide his time until he had the fellow beyond any question of a doubt. He hoped | to: obtain what proof he needed in Boston, especially if, the man’s suspicions were not aroused. Consequently, it was very necessary that Kintaro should have no idea- he was being followed. Ed- — wards was not even absolutely sure that the fellow — was on the train,,since he had made a point of ‘eep- ing entirely out of sight from the moment he entered — He only knew that the Jap’s seat was in | semaines ey. ula the station. it would be safe for him to chance a quick glance os the doorw ay to reassure himself. , He was extremely | sorry now that he had been so. hasty at Fortress Monroe. He could just aswell have instructed some one, else to turn the fellow out, and | would then have kept his own identity a secret. . was too late ndw to repine. He must make the best of + er ce 5 ae wee RRND ng \ | the situation, and, as the train was passing through Ba Stamford, he arose slowly and pursued his leisurely way forward. It took but a moment for him to; cross the vesti- bule and turn into the narrow passage at.the end of the next car. Happily there was no light at the farther end of this passage and he was able to stand in the the door, while he glanced searchingly Scnennnetiatlieaiiet en 7 shadow by about the interior. Instantly his eyes lit up with a sudden gleam. of y triumph as they fell upon his man, sitting gi ward and engaged in earnest conversation with a tall, | handsome yotng fellow, with dark eyes and_ hair, whose face was perplexingly familiar. “Wonder who that -is,’ Edwards murmured, step- ping back into the shadow. een him before, but where?” RR . Slowly he made his way back to his own seat and aan dropped into it. He was puzzled and a little piqued, a forehe prided himself upon a memory for faces. And the,face of the young man in the next car was not one which would be éaSily forgotten. Edwards pondered over it, annoyed beyond measure, with that i tantalizing sensation of having the name on the very tip of his tongue and then feeling it slip. away again He felt sure that he had well for- “T’ve certainly s into the recesses of memory. tirely different conditions. He hadn’t met him in a _ business way, that was certain; he did not even think that he had ever spoken to the fellow, and yet the remembrance was much more vivid than one usually had from simply passing a person in the street. All at once he caught his breath swiftly ‘and his eyes gleamed with triumph. It was characteristic of -. the man that he made no sound, or motion indicative of having thought of anything unusual. His self- ‘control was too perfect for that. Even while he had been puzzling his brain for the past five minutes, his _ face was an absolute blank. “Tye got it,” he murmured under his breath. “That’s - Dick Merriwell, of Yale. I saw him pitch in the Yale- _ has he got to do with this Jap spy?” CHAPTER IIt. AN OL D- hs HUM. Dick Merriwell had been spending the day in New? Y ork, a, come dow n from New ee ona aa TIP TOP WEEKLY. 5 seen the man before, but that it- had been under en- Harvard game a year ago. Now what in the mischief ’ you nee Ww nat a runner is?” He was not very keen about it, but since it had to be done, he resolved to combine pleasure with busi- ness; and the moment he landed in town he telephoned to Bouncer Bigelow, who had gene to work in -his father’s office in Wall Street, and made an appoint- ment with him to lunch at a hotel. : suit, did one or two small errands, and hurried over to the hotel on Forty -second Street. Though it lacked five minutes of one o ‘clock, Bouncer was pacing the lobby testlessly, and at the sight of he fairly flung himself into , Dick’s Then he proceeded to his tailor’s, ordered a his old friend, arms. “My goodness, but I’m glad to see you!’ he ex- claimed rapturously. “It’s just like old times.” Merriwell was equally pleased, though perhaps not quite so demonstrative, and for five minutes they stood talking until Bouncer suddenly recollected that he was no longer a man of leisure. “Heavens!” he exclaimed, his eyes on the clock. “I've got to be back at the office by two. Let’s get down to luncheon.” 4 Descending to the café, they found a quiet table | and ordered lunch. Then Dick leaned back in his chair and surveyed his friend with a smile. “Well, Big, how do you like being a business man?” he inquired. The fat chap drew down the corners ‘pf his mouth ee mournfully. . o “T don’t like it,’ he returned plaintively. “It’s awful! I’d give every cent I own to be back at dear old New Haven again.” 2 “But you couldn’t stay there all your life,” Merri-. well said quickly. “You'd have to start work some time, you know.” “Oh, I know that,” Bouncer said petulantly. “But this year I’m all the time thinking of what a good time you and Brad are having. Besides, you have < no idea of the awful things I have to do down at the office.” . 3 , “I suppose you're not in the firm just yet,’ asked; with a twinkle in his eye. 5 Dick Bigelow glared at him. “Firm!” he exclaimed. “Yah! I should say not!" He paused and eyed his friend intently with lower- ing brows. “I’m a runner,” he announced, with slow cipal “Do you get that? Me, a runner! Think of it! Fis a0 Oe on the fat chap’s countenance, but trying hard to keep from smiling openly. “Tt’s next thing to the office boy,” tinued malevolently,. Bouncer con- “In some offices it is the office boy, but the governor keeps a fresh little runt who looks afteg the mail and not much else. \ to the bank and stand in line. ‘all over the street—and stand in line there, sometimes. Some days what an awful time I have getting up early.” “You don’t seem to have lost any flesh with all this running,’ “Lost flesh!’ much as two pounds and a half. walking skeleton! [ have to go Run around to offices I nearly drop dead, ‘and you don’t know Dick suggested slyly. \ / é “Why, I’ve lost as I'll be reduced to a groaned Bigelow. : Soon I shall have to spend all my i money—which is precious little, my clothes taken in!” There was silence for a moment. I can tell you—having Dick was drawing lines on the cloth with his fork, and presently he looked up. “Of course, you know, Big, that this experience you're having is what ninety-nine fellows out of a hun- dred have got to go through when they first start work,” he said quietly. ‘No man when he leaves col- lege is able or fit to step into an office and run things. He’s got to begin at the bottom and work his way up. He’s got to master every little detail from the very be- ginning, or he'll never make good. You hardly ex- pected your father to step down ang let you take the -helm, did yout “Well, n-o, pose I did. ‘a little better than a get down till half-past nine and’spend most of the day at the Exchange. I could buy and sell stocks just as well as he can. It looks easy enough.” » “No doubt,” Dick returned, with a slight smile; “but I don’t believe you'd find it as easy as you think. I have no doubt this Ford started just where you are now, and with perhaps not half so good a chance of advancenient. You don’t know how lucky you are, Big, to have a business like your father’s all ready to go _ into. Quantities of fellows hunt for weeks and weeks for some kind of a place, and, ten chances to one, when they've got it, they may stay for years at the same salary and the same duties, never advancing a step, _ whereas with you it’s only a question of time, only a question of your ability to learn the ropes, before you'll begin to go up the line as fast as your father _ ean conscientiously push you.” The stout fellow’s lips were pursed up and his brows & & 2 $ ‘ zt n ’ Bouncer said hesitatingly, “ “Td doh 7 su g p- runner. There’s ford—he doesn’t But he might have made me something ' Ce ne eee ne ~ WEEKLY. wrinkled. He was evidently thinking over the matter and looking at it in a new light. “This business of runner is only part of the game,” “T don’t suppose that will Prob- eitinaliag ae —— Dick went on presently. last more than a couple of months at the most. a ably it will all depend on how you take it. I don’t im- agine it’s the actual knowledge you'll gain which will } be of value—though there’s information to be picked up i everywhere if you keep your eyes open—so much as the discipine you get. The realization that you’re only a very small cog in a very large machine, and one at all. is to lobk forward to which can be replaced with no trouble Big, the time when you'll develop into a much more im- “What you want to do, portant part of this machine, perhaps even the motive power itself, and do your best to shorten that time by all you can about everything learning you run up against.. I think you'll fiid that the more you. know, the more interest you will take in the work, and the easier it will seem to you. But probably I’m wast- | ing my breath with this sort of talk. No doubt your — x father, has told you all,“and more, and told it much ed more clearly and forcibly than I ever could.” For some minutes Bigelow had been scowling at the but now he looked up at Dick and his face tablecloth, cleared. “He has given me a big spiel once or twice,” he “but somehow he didn’t put things the He’s awfully busy, you know, and hasn’t much spare time. I like that idea about getting to be the motive power of the machine. Thinking about that, you don’t mind so much being the small cog Well, here’s the lunch at last. I’m hungry acknowledged, way you do, for a while. as a bear.” They fell to on the luncheon with good appetites. Between, bites, Bouneer propounded all sorts of ques- tions about everybody apd everything at New Haven, and did not once again refer to the tedium of his work. He was in distinctly better spirits, however, “and Dick’ felt that the little talk had been effective. All too soon for both of them the hand of the clock circled around toward the hour, and at ten minutes | of two Bouncer was obliged to tear himself away to scurry into the subway. | Dick walked with him to the entrance, and, having” bade him good- by warmly, set out to finish up his . errands. eo These were done rather sooner than he expected, so he walked leisurely up to the Grand Central and » was comfortably settled on his train—the Merchants’ TIP TOP Limited—a good quarter of an hour before the start- ing time. laid it aside and took to watching the various passengers come a 5 j G Glancing through his paper, he presently in, one by one, and settle themselves in their chairs, This was a favorite occupation With him, for faces ; ¢ He liked to study them and what was going interested him immensely. figure out in his mind a little of Sometimes it was easy enough—some faces are perfect mirrors for the soul—but more often the problem was more perplex- ‘on behind those deceptive masks. ing. But, taken all in all, surprisingly analytical mind/ made him fairly cessful. his keen observation and About three minutes before train time, a Japanese, slim, sallow, perfectly self-possessed, and fastidiously dressed, entered the car and was shown by the porter to the seat next to Dick. The latter any apparent rudeness, while he settled himself for the journey; and presently the Yale man. became con- watched him curiously, though without * vineed that he had seen the fellow before. To many people all Japs look more or less alike, but the observing person sees quite as much variation -in.them as is to be found in men of his own race. On several occasions Dick had noticed particularly one of the Japs at Yale. Merriwell rather liked his looks. fellow quite above the ordinary run of foreigners in this country. In fact, Dick remembered hearing vaguely that he was of noble blood, a son of one of the high officials of the Japanese government. He was a sophomore, and He seemed to be a So far, he had never spoken to the youth, but there was no reason why he should not begin now. Leaning forward a little, he caught the. fellow’s eye. “TI *beg your pardon,” he said quietly, “but. isn’t your name Kintaro?”’ The Jap gave a slight, start and the faintest shadow _- of annoyance flashed over his expressionless face and was gone. His black eyes were fixed on Dick with a _keen, questioning look, which gave the Yale man an odd feeling as if he were being weighed in the balance. He had, moreover, a curious impression that, quiet ol _ —almost lax—as was the pose of the slim figure in . ~ the chair opposite, the man was, in reality, tense; rigid, with muscles like taut steel wires, holding himself in : check only by the exertion of an indomitable will, Ys a last the foreigner spoke, — “Yes,” he said slowly in pure, faultless Enelish, “my name is Kintaro,” WEEKLY. SUCH. ™ CHAPTER IV. THE SPY. “T’'ve seen you several times around the campus,” I think, My Dick continued in a friendly tone, “‘and once, on the athletic field watching thé football practice. name is Dick Merriwell.” . The foreigner’s lips parted in a charming smile which illumined his whole face. *Only You know I'm only a soph, and I didn’t know the correct thing for me to speak first,” Dick leaned back in his chair with a light laugh. “Oh, of a back number, “T recognized you at once,” he said quickly. I wasn’t sure you're a senior. WAETSES it would be that sort of thing has become more or less [ think,” “Of course, «> g campus and college buildings, an under- he said. around the classman is not supposed to start the conversational ball rolling; but anywhere else He completed the sentence with a shrig of his shoul- a4 ders, | as “T think that is the moré sensible way,” Kintard re- turned quietly. “It is so different in England. At the big universities there, it would be thought an awful breach of etiquette for a man to speak first to an upperclassman. They still cling to the old notions,” “Personally, I could never understand why one a should not make friends with a congenial fellow, even a if he happens to be a freshman,” Dick remarked. s “It’s no crime to be that. We all have to start in some time.”’ He hesitated an instant, and then went on: “You know the English universities well?” “Fairly well,” returned the foreigner. “I have spent some time in England, but I do not think I like the | country as a whole as well as I do the United States. Your games here, for instance, are so much more in- — teresting than those on the other side, There they eternally harp on cricket. “They won't concede,that’ a = man may be a sportsman without knowing cricket.” To | my mind, baseball 1 is infinitely superior, both to watch © and play. ' There is vastly more science to it, and wierd ‘ I return home I hope to be able to introduce ft more widely in my own.country.”’ | “Tt is played there to some extent already, isn’t it: ae Dick asked, . ee eo but not aoe. Kintaro said. “T ¢hink Ki ball. That requires men with great bulk and frames.” * objected. “Did you see our game with Syracuse about a week ago?” The Jap shook his head. “No, I was—a lay,’ he answered. “How did it differ from former games?” revised rules,” Dick explained. “Ah,” the other said quickly. of course!” “The new rules— He leaned back in his chair and tabbed his chin on rf one hand. . ie “Do you know,” he confided, “I’ve heard a lot about these rules, but I’ve never taken the trouble to look them up. I have only been on the field once to see you practice, and then for only a few minutes. Would it be much trouble for you to explain these changes?” “Not at all” i He forthwith launched into a simple, lucid explana- tion of the*various changes which had been brought about in the game, to which Kintaro listened with much interest. He seemed to gfasp it with amazing ease, and when Dick had finished he nodded emphatically. Merriwell said heartily. “TI see,’ he said quickly. “That means a wider, more open game. Something of a return to the English rugby.” Merriwell said, “Not exactly that,” “though it is a step in that direction. Most of the changes are un- questionably for the better, and will, I think, tend gradually toward the substitution of speed and brains for mere brute force.” “That is to be commended in anything,” agreed the Jap. “It’s a sign of the times, and futute de- lines. Look at the afmies of every civilized country. See how their efficiency increases in almost inverse _ proportion to the size of the men. It is no longer necessary or, indeed, desirable to have soldiers of huge bulk like that regiment of six-fo@ters in which Fred- erick the Great took so much pride. Emperor William : still clings somewhat to the old notion, but while I watched the public manoeuvres of his great army near Potsdam a year or two ago, I wondered how long those regiments of perfectly drilled automatons, whose every motion is as regular as clockwork, and as mechanical,’ would stand before a corps of men who had been en- couraged to use their brains.” “The German soldiers are not supposed to use their brains, are they?” Dick smiled. “The officers prefer to do what thinking is necessary.’ ag 4 _ Kintaro nodded emphatically. dee FOP “It was the first real application we've had of the. velopment in’ almost everything will be, along. those: WEEKLY. “Exactly. And they will wake up some day to their mistake when it is too |gte.” Merriwell found his new acquajntance charming. He was evidently a fellow of very brilliant intellect, who had traveled extensively and made full use of his opportunities. ance with those of the majority of people, but they never failed to be interesting, and his point of view was always well taken. His probable age puzzled Dick not a little. He might have been ahtywhere between twenty and thirty. One would hardly suppose a student in college to be much twenty, but to Merriwell it seemed impossible for so young a man to have such an amazingly ma- ture development of mind, or to have acquired such ayvast fund of information, much of which could only been obtained at first hand. His opinions were often quite at vari- above have radically different nature of the Japanese training’ would account for this. ° ‘ than an hour on an. infinite le . “ . . A > variety of subjects, and Dick had rarely enjoyed him- self so much, when suddenly, in the midst of a discus- They talked for more sion on the various types of motor boats and their rela- tive advantages, he noticed the dark eyes of his com- panion shifty for a second, from his face, and flash back through the car toward the door. It was only an instantaneous g glance, and Kintaro did not break off what he was saying, nor change a It was as if some trivial object muscle of his face. at the end of the car had attracted his attention for* an instant, and, when he saw how unimportant it was, he dismissed. it instantly from his mind, For another ten minutes their discourse continued. Then, just as the train whirled through the Bridge- port station, Kintaro pulled out his watch. “Won't you smoke a cigar or cigarette with me ahead in the smoker?” he asked courteously. “Thank you very much, but I don’t smoke,” smiled. ‘Dick “Of course, you’re in training,” Kintaro said sould , “TI should have remembered that.” “I do happen to be in training,” Merriwell explained, ‘But, so far as tobacco is concerned, I have never used it.” | “Tust as well, no doubt,” the Jap answ ered. “Well, I shall see you at New Haven.” 3 He stood up, and, turning his chair around a little so that the back was toward Dick, picked up his bag and dropped it carelessly into the seat. Then, with a pleasant nod, he passed on into the car ahead. / But perhaps the. He had not been gone over five minutes when Merri- | Se Ee landlady crossly. to do.” “Td be awfully obliged if you would,’ Dick an- swered. Grumbling incoherently, she departed. They could hear her going upstairs, knock loudly.several times on a door, and then come down again. “THe ain’t in,’ she snapped through the crack in the front door. ; And before Dick could say a word of thanks it was slammed shut in his face. “Well, that much is settled,”’ Edwards said as they “We've proved that he wasn’t I sup- descended the steps. home to-night, if that will do us any good. pose we may as well trot back to the hotel. I want to think out the next step.” “If you don’t mind going a little out of your way,” I want to stop for a second to see a fellow who rooms ust around the corner. Won’ be there but a minute.” “All right,” Is The street was silent. Just after he had taken up his position in the doorway, a man had passed, hurrying homeward, and Edwards heard him run up the steps of a house farther down the block, click his latch- sey, and shut the door behind him. Since then there had not been a sound. 4ie was just wondering what could possibly) keep the Jap so long at Baxter’s rooms, when his quick ear caught the sound of rapid footsteps in the distance. Nearer theytcame, and nearer. Whoever it was, he TIP TOP was walking briskly and entirely on the ball of his foot, clicks at all. Perhaps he was doing that on purpose. for thdkre were no heel dwards gripped his ceased to breath. They were very close now. FE revolver and, taking a long breath, The next moment a slight figure appeared before the house, ran up the steps, taking out a key as he came. Bending to fit it into the lock, he found himself staring straight into the barrel of a very serviceable-looking revolver. ' : “Good evening, Kintaro,” coolly. The Jap straightened up with a start. he showed no signs of being disturbed. “Might I ask what this means?’ he inquired coldly. “Ves, certainly,’ Edwards returned, barrel of his gun to the other’s forehead. I’ll answer your questions upstairs.” .A look of hate leaped into the black eyes of the foreigner, and for,a moment Edwards thought he was going to spring at his throat. He made a significant movement with the gun, and the Jap held himself in check with a palpable effort. “Quick!” snapped the secret agent. , “Open the door! I don’t want to stand here all night.” -- Without a word, Mintaro obeyed, and both men en- tered the house. Holding the Jap firmly by the arm, with the muggle of the revolver close aga inst his head, ‘Edwards pushed him toward the stairs. In this way they entered the door,at the head of the stairs, which the foreigner made iether n by signs was his own. Then the seeret agent dropped the other’s arm, drew out a match and struck it. As it flared up, his quick eye took in the position of the electric fixture, and the next instant he had snapped the light on. Edwards closed the door and placed his back against it. * Kintaro stood a couple of feet away eying him sullenly. | | ? _ “Now everything’s nice and cozy, agent, “and we can get down to business. ont, your coat.” The Jap eyed him from under lowering lids, but did - not move a muscle. 7 “Take—off—yout—coat by) repeated Bawatds, ina steely voice. | vf This time the fellow dheyed! promptly. “Now the vest!” MER | _ Slowly Kintaro removed it and tossed the garment “upon a chair. With even more reluctance, he took off — ; collar, tie, and ete, and. si stood before Edt the secret agent remarked Otherwise shifting the “Ask away. ’ smiled the secret Kindly take ‘ a Me TE Seep iran OMG ee RI PR RO tee WEEKLY. vards, stripped to the waist, a picture of sullen re- sentment. The secret agent’s eyes glittered as they keenly searched the fellow’s left shoulder. he commanded tersely. Ed- |. wards would have died many times over that night. a finely de- a “Step over near the light,”’ Kintaro obeyed. If looks could have killed, Presently the light fell directly upon the veloped shoulders of the young Japanese, bringing out clearly every muscle. The Secret agent bent forward intently. Then he straightened up with a wave over him. eagerly, of bewildered disappointment sweeping The birthmark was not there! Nothingeof what he felt showed to his keen-eyed adversary, however. He had too much self-control for that. At least, he had accomplished his purpose and knew where he ‘stood. IYor a moment he stood silently contemplating the Then he smiled pleasantly. he said, with slightly ireni- angry fellow before him. “Thank you very much,” cal; emphasis. night.” ; His eyes flashed a brief glance about the room, and all at once they narrowéd slightly, as they fell upon a tan-leather traveling bag which lay on-the floor near a couch. It looked very much like the bag which Kin- taro had carried on the train from New York. It was a common shape, but Edwards had observed that, on the lower side of that bag,.a few stitches had burst, causing the leather to bulge a little. | Crossing the room, he picked it up and turned it e It was the same. ra “T think that's about all I desire to- over. Returning to the door without comments he hesi- — tated for a second longer. Then he smiled again at | the irate: foreigner. Pe wie “Yes, I think that really is all,” he repeated slowly. “lm very much obliged to you for your patience. Good night.” Like a flash, he was out in the hall with the door closed behind him. It took but an instant to descend — the stairs and reach the street. Then he walked Bg pe the ee where Dick was Bik chins his a “aiid stepped ae arth “Well?” he questioned eagerly. “No mark,” returned Edwards briefly. ha Dick whistled softly as they walked rapidly | : mn 4 together. } “That seems to settle the ducation pia, of presently, in a thoughtful tone, unless He hesitated and aot quickly at the secret agent. “Is there any possible chance of that description he asked. “When a fake birthmark which +. of yours being wrong?” it was taken, couldn’t the man have ) would come off later?” (a ee Edwards considered the ae. y “Yes,” he said slowly, “that’s possible. It’s just s the sort of thing a Jap would do, too. That's a good thought of. yours, Merriwell. It puts a different com- Sort of jibes in better with the ‘discovery I made in the room of the tan bag ‘the fel- plexion on the matter. low carried on the train the other day.” “Oh, you found that, Dick asked. “I should think that was an importdnt clue.” “Possibly,” the secret agent answered, may not saat to anything.” They had reached Elm Street, and as they hesitated on the curb, a clock struck one.- “By Jove! I had no idea it was so life,” exclaimed. “Time we were both seeking our downies. Can’t you take lunch with me to-morrow? By that time I'll have had a chance to think this all over, and perhaps will have doped out something.” ' “Why, yes,” Dick hesitated, “I guess I can. I usually eat at the training table, but I can stay away from it for once, all right.” _ “Good. Meet me in the lobby at one o'clock, if you ean. I'll be sitting in the regular place. Good night.” did you?” “though Edwards Af, 3% coy ’ CHAPTER X. 1s at A SUDDEN LIGHT. 4 Promptly at one o'clock the next afternoon, Dick Ve _ Merriwell and Edwards, the special agent, entered | i the dining room of the New Haven House. Picking 2 out a small table in one corner, they ordered lunch, it te and then, unfolding their napkins, settled back in ie their chairs. | ly ay “T’ve been thinking over the suggestion you made last DW hg night about that being a fake birthmark,” Edwards ‘remarked. “If you're right, it throws out an important point i in the identification; but otherwise rite situation t is very much simplified.” Dick nodded. EV e8,'h can see that it does,” he geturned. “Tf you as vant at all. And if he isn’t the spy, who is?” “You've hit :the point exactly,” Edwards. said quickly. TIP TOP WEEKLY. stick to the birthmark, then Kintaro isn't the man you — quickly, “The question would then arise, not only who >" j ae i. It would then: seem that I have been following the wrong man ever since I left New York, that could be possible. I know that the Jap who visited Governors Island, the authorities there, was the man who stopped at the Palace Hotel; but where ts he? is the spy, and I don’t see how and who was intercepted by and [ am morally certain that this same man took the Merchants’ Limited from the Grand Central day be- fore yesterday.” got off the train at New Haven,’ “That's. where the value of your) discovery of the bag comes in. You're certain, of course, that it was the same bag?” ae that same fellow ’ Merriwell put in. positively. Edwards nodded emphatically. “Yes, returned. the stitches were ripped at the bottom,” he “There can be no question about it.” right track,” Kintaro knows He saw that it would be only a question of time—and a very short time, at that—-before you would nail: him cold, and so he planned deliberately to put you out of the way.” “Yes, that’s to do,” “On some matters they have a vastly different pomt of view from ours. “Then it seems to me we're on the Dick said thoughtfully. . “Evidently you're following him, and is frightened. quite the most natural thing for a Jap the secret agent agreed. Their patriotism, for instance, is a thing to wonder at. It takes possession of them, dominates them to_ the exclusion of every Wher idea; and these spies feel that they are serving their country quite as ably and honorably as any of the highest officers of State at home. The matter of a mere human life is of no consideration at all to them, if, by sacrificing it, they can accomplish their purpose. They feel that the end justifies any means. I'll give them the credit, though, of being quite as ready to sacrifice their own lives, should the need arise.” a ‘There was a momentary pause.’ “What seems so extraordinary to me,” Dick said presently, “is this fellow’s amazingly mature develop- ment of mind, and his resourcefulness. -Look at the cleverness with which he got hold of some specimen of my handwriting—Heaven knows how he did it—and imitated it so perfectly. And on the’ train the other day his conversation was absolutely brilliant. Yet I don’t suppose he can be much over twenty.” “What makes you think that?’ Edwards asked ae 2 aoe a hae “Simply because he’s a sophomore in Yale,” Merri-_ well answered. “I confess that, from his looks, he | might be any age up to thirty. His appearance is very — PE ee ye TIPS LOP deceptive; but, advanced as the Japs are, I should hardly suppose they would enter college after twenty.”’ “Under ordinary circumstances, no,’ Edwards agreed. ‘But this case is rather different. appear that his only able to carry on his real work@unsuspected and with greater .freedom.”’ “Yes, I suppose that’s true,” It would object in entering Yale is to be Dick conceded. The waiter appearing at that moment, they devoted themselves to the lunch with good appetites, continu- ing their discussion while they ate. Edwards had practically decided that he would watch Kintaro for a little longer time, and then, if nothing more developed, he would run the risk of settling mat- ters with him on what evidence he already had. He was not anxious to do this if he could see any other way out; for there was still a vague, intangible doubt in his mind of the absolute correctness of their reasoning. He could not put his finger on it, but it was none the less there, an ever-present, feeling that, somehow, there was a kink in the prob- tantalizing lem which he had not untangled. » © After luncheon Dick returned to his rooms. He was not due on the field until three o'clock, and he pro- posed to put in the intervehing time in a thoughtful review of the puzzling situation. Tor he, too, did note believe that they had discovered everything. There kept recurring to his mind the odd change he had noticed in Kintaro’s manner since that afternoon on the train. It seemed to him that this change was more deep seated than the mere coldness which would follow the Jap’s discovery of his/connection with the secret agent. It was more like a change of person- ality, and it puzzled him more than any other feature of the curious case. Try as he might, he could think of no satisfactory explanation, no flaw in their reasoning, though he felt, intuitively, that there must be one. And, before he knew it, the time had passed so swiftly that he came to himself with a realization that he would have to hustle to reach the field by three o’clock. Hurrying over to the garage, he got out his car, the Wizard, and was soon speeding out to the grounds. The practice that afternoon was much more satis- . factory than it had been in some days. Rose, in -Hardy’s place, as left tackle, played a brilliant game, surpassing even Buckhart’s expectations ; and the Texan grinned with satisfaction as he observed this,’ and also the good’showing of the rest of the team. For the first time that year they were beginning to: WEEKLY. - work together as one man, to show the effect of the hard practice and good training, and Brad felt that he would have no causé to be ashamed of them when he turned them over to Don Tempest, the captain, who hoped to be well enough to show up on the field early next week. As usual, he. was late getting dressed, but Dick waited for him; and by the time they were ready to leave the grounds all the other fellows had departed. Thus it was that the two chums were alone in the car’as Dick drove along Derby Avenue at a fairly good clip. : There was a trolley just in front of them which Merriwell caught up to with no difficulty at all. He was just upon the point of passing it when, happening to glance up at the lighted windows, he gave a slight start, and instinctively pulled down his speed so that the car kept evenly alongside the trolley. The latter was pretty well packed with people, mostly factory hands returning from their work, but Dick was conscious of only one face amid the multitude of others. , It was that of the Japanese, Kintaro. He stood near the end of the car, hanging to a strap. In front of him a cluster of electric globes threw a strong light _ on his thin, sallow face, and, in that one brief, search- ing glance from out the darkness, Dick Merriwell suddenly realized that he had solved the problem. In an instant everything which had been so puz- zling was made clear. he could have been so obtuse, but there was some Sat- isfaction in the fact that Edwards blind. -And as he allowed the Wizard to drop back a little and turned her into the tracks behind the car, his mind was busy planning just how he should make use of his suddenly acquired knowfedge. / / He wondered how in the world had been equally — CHAPTER XI. A TELEPHONE NUMBER. Happily the Jap had not seen him. Even had the | fellow not been lost in thought, it would be hardly pog- sible for him to distinguish anything outside of the brightly lighted car, and Dick felt quite ‘safe in the knowledge that his presence was unsuspected. Rad! Though Brad noticed the sudden slowing down and divergence onto the trolley tracks, he made no com- ment until Dick followed the car info Horton Street, toward Chapel, instead of going straight on. ‘ Fs 4 _— cP wr we vv 4 Sie ATE a ; i “Why don’t you hit her up a bit, pard?” he in- ' quired. “Not going to poke along behind this car all "the way back, are you?” ee “That’s what,” Dick returned, smiling. ‘“There’s a + — fellow inside I want to follow.” ee The Texan whistled. _ * “Say you so?’’ he questionéd interestedly. “Turned ih detective, have you? What’s the row?” a : “Can’t tell you, old fellow,’ Merriwell returned | quietly. It’s some one else’s business, and I’ve prom- ro ised to keep my mouth shut about it.’ * Buckhart shrugged his shoulders resignedly. ae “Right; you’re the doctor,” he’ remarked, settling ee himself comfortably in the seat. “Want me to get out 2” He had implicit faith in his chum, and knew that +. Dick never did things without a good reason. felt a little piqued at being shut out from any of his friend’s doings, he kept that feeling to himself. “No, certainly not,” Dick returfed -hastily. be awfully glad if you'll come along with me and help.” “Sure thing “Just mention -- when you want anything done, and I'll try to oblige ey , s you. x , Buckhart said readily. & With his eye keenly on the figure of the Jap, which - showed indistifictly through the rear window, Merri- well ¢ontinued to follow the trolley along Chapel vimereet.’ 0a} ; Reaching the central portion of the city near the campus, he was more than ever on the alert; but Kin- ' Aaro made no move to leave the car. ~ On they went, passing the Green, crossing State ol Olive Streets, and presently. reaching Wooster Square. Still the Jap did not move. ts they would have to cross the draw, the fellow turned around and signaled to the conductor. As the car slowed down, Dick swerved suddenly to the left curb and sprang out. “Take'the car back, will you, Brad: a he said swiftly. a ll follow on foot. ( shadowy doorway, leaving Brad somewhat bewildered, but quite equal to the occasion. Instantly throwing into the geats, he swerved round at, a right angle; 1 and the Jap down a side away in the If he. ray dec At last, just as Dick had made up his, mind that Without waiting for a reply, he slipped into 4 eso ie =e heat meer *. hod etal a ee ett =e iv rta prtnl kt WEEKLY. 23 From his place of conéealment, Dick watched Kin- taro cross Chapel Street and, without hesitation, plunge into the comparative da | The next moment lft left the door- way and was following at a discreet distance. tkness of the street which ran along the river. The Jap kept steadily on for five or six blocks, with Dick following a couple of hundred feet. behind on the other side of the street. Then, all at once, Kin- taro turned swiftly, ran up some steps, opened a door without aid of a key; and the ext instant he had dis- appeared inside. slowly on until he stood opposite the shabby, down-at-the-heel-looking Dick walked house. It was ‘a place and bore a sign under one of the lower windows of: “Rooms to Rent.” This much he took, in by the light from a street lamp a little farther on. Then his attention was at- tracted by a light which suddenly sprang up in the windows of the front room-on the top floor. The next saw the Jap reach forward and draw down yh the other. He was evidently per- instant he one shade ‘fectly at home in the place. For a moment or two Dick stood thoughtfully sur- veying the shabby brick front. Then he walked a little way down the street where the shadow was denser, but not too far to enable him to keep an eye on the place. It was fortunte that he did so, for, in about ten minutes, the door dpened suddenly and Kintaro ap- peared and ran down the steps. Without moving a muscle, Merriwell watched him hurry back toward Chapel Street, and, when Kintaro had gotten far enough ahead, he took up the pursuit again. This time it ended abruptly in a grocery store, out-. side of which hung the sign of a telephone pay sta-~ tion/ Dick watched him step into the store and walk straight through it toward the rear. The telephone must be in the back, and the fellow seemed to know the way perfectly. ‘Allowing fn time to reach the instrument, Dick opened the door. and stepped into the store. It was rather risky, but he wanted very much to find out the number the Jap was calling. Stopping at the end of the counter, he turned his back toward the rear of the store, and when the clerk came up, he asked for the . first thing which came into his head—a box of matches. Meanwhile he strained his ears to hear what was be-\ He had heard the shrill tinkle of the bell as he opened the door, but ‘evidently cen- . ing said at the phone. ' tral was ere Again the Jap rang, this tim ede Pe Sg a ‘ Pe bi > a Sele raat Seg Sade! 5h ONG Na a 9 Med * wi ee a a te . TREES tad ee TIP TOP we with more vehemence. WA'gain the wait seemed inter- minable. The clerk handed Dick the matches, and he fumbled in his pocket for some change. Luckily his fingers closed upon a quarter and the fellow punched the cash register with a snap. Would central never come! Suddenly Kintaro’s voice came clearly to his ear. “432, please.”’ Dick took his chang@ absently, pausing to button up his coat. Then he took up the matches and moved slowly toward the door. As his hand touched the latch, he heard the Jap’s voice again, but this time the words were unintelligible. He was talking in Jap- anese. : ; Five minutes later Dick, standing in the shelter of a . doorway across the street, watched Kintaro come out of the store, turn into the side street again, and disappear in the direction of the house which he had left a few minutes before. me This time the Yale man did not follow him. In- stead, he hurried along Chapel Street until he came to anothet telephone, situated in a drug store. Entering, he went directly to ‘the instrument and called up the New Haven House. | “Ts Mr. George Edwards there?” he inquired of the hotel clerk who answered it. The latter believed he was at dinner. “Ask him-to step to the,telephone, please,” Dick | said. There was a rather long pause, and then Edwards’ yoice could be heard at the other end of the wire. This is Merriwell,” Dick explained. “I’m down on ( hapel Street, just beyond Wooster Square. come me n here at once? I've got oo im- portant.” “You have?” Edwards said eagerly. “Good! I'll _ be down as soon as a car can take me. Oh, say, by the way, this isn’t anything like that letter, T hope.” Dick laughed. “No, it’s:really me this time. No fak€ about it.” “T’'ll be right along. Where are you?” “Drug store, corner of Chestnut.” “All right. Good-by.” \ Can you ere ae eee pe mee WEEKLY. Hanging up the - receiver, Dick stood thoughtfully silent for a moment. Then he turned back to the in- strument and called “Information.” “Will you tell me where number 432 is located?’ he inquired. There was a rather long pause before the answer. came. Dick listened intently to the girl’s words. “T see,” he said. when she had finished. “Thank you very much.”’ : ris ° é . . . Chere was a gleam of triumph in his eyes as he’ paid for the call and walked to the door to watch for ; . Edwards. he murmured. “T thought so,” “T believe we've got 5 ’ g him at last.” CHAPTER XII. THE MYSTERY UNMASKED. As the secret agent.leaped off the car, Dick met him on the sidewalk. . : “What have you found?” Edwards asked aie Dick smiled. : a PY ‘m going to be beastly disagreeable and not tell Be ; you,” he returned. “Tw ant yqu to get ‘the full bene- fit of a surprise. But I really think Ive stumbled:on the solution of the whole perplexing business, and, unless I’m very much mistaken, the dénouement will. Md come very soon.” | l° “wards shrugged his shoulders. oo “Have wou own way about it,’ he said gaod- fa) turedly. ‘The information is yours to do as you like with.. Only I hope you won't keep me in suspense — very long. I’m devoured with curiosity.” ” “I think it will be relieved in short order,” Diek answered. ‘‘Let’s get over there.” He led the way down the street, and ten minutes later the. two stood before the sordid lodging house. The light still burned on the upper floor, but the rest of the house was dark. s Edwards: eyed the silent front keenly. Though Dick had not said a w ord, the secret agent seemed to realize that somewhere behind it lay the’ key to the mystery. TIP) TOP WEEKLY: “T think we'd better cross the street,” Dick said, in “Then we can watch the door without a low tone. being seen.” Without a word, Edwards followed him silently into the shadow, and they took up their position just inside the iron railing of a narrow areaway. Five minutes passed , without a sound break- ing the stillness. Up and ace n the street little gleams of light showed in basement windows, seeming to in- ‘dicate that the inhabitants were enjoying their sup- pers, but there was no passing in the street at all. All at once Merriwell caught his companion’s arm. From the direction of Chapel Street came the sourtd of light, quick footsteps. He had been watching the that the solu- He had not ex- Edwards turned swiftly. house over the way intently, thinking tion to their problem lay within it. i | pected anything to happen outside. The steps came nearer. Presently a slight figure loomed through the darkness on the ‘other side of the street. The next instant it reached the circle of light cast by the street lamp, and the startled secret agent saw that it was unmistakably Tukado Kintaro, wear- ing a long, tan coat, and carrying in one hand a tan : leather traveling bag. PW ithout hesitation, the Jap ran up the steps, opened ~ the door and disappeared within. long breath and looked at Dick inquiringly. —-“Tt’s all right,” the Yale man REDE “Tt has ansien out just as 1 hoped it would. “We'll wait a couple of minutes and then join him.” “Fo the secret agent} tense, .alert, eager as a hound straining at the leash to run his quarsy, those two minutes seemed to pass on leaden feet; but at last hey were over and Dick led the Ww ay Syne across the street. Quickly mounting the steps, he turned the handle of the door, and they stepped inside. ye The hall Was pitch dark, and they were ‘obliged to mounted. steadily and silently upw as Reaching the second floor, Dick, who was in advance, Edwards drew a- 7 ° felt his way along the stair rail for a dozen feet, and then they commenced the ascent of the second flight. As their heads reached the level of the floor above, Merriwell paused and gave a searching glance around. The pitchy darkness was cleft by a tiny slit of light which came from under the door leading to the front room. Dick “Got your gun ready?” leaned close to his companion. he breathed. “We may. need it.” : Edwards did not reply at once, but Merriwell heard the faint rustle he made as he sectired the weapon from under his clothes. The next rhinute he spoke softly: “All right.” sre A /They reached the hall and crept silently to the door. ‘A moment's stealthy feeling of the panel, and Merri- well’s fingers touched.the knob. The next instant he swung the door open. with a quick motion, and the two men stepped into the room. 7 For a‘ moment not a sound broke the tense stillness. Edwards stood as if rooted to the floor, gazing with widened eyes at the sight before him. a he room was faitly large and rather sparsely fur- nishied: A bare, rough table, with a single gas jet flaming above it, stood in the centre,'and seated on one corner, his legs dangling carelessly, was Tukado Kin- taro, his coat thrown opén and his hat pushed on the back of his head. The brown feather bag rested on the table close at hand. He had half turned and was regarding the intruders with a look of startled sur- prise. . But what struck the secret agent dumb with astonish- ment was the man who leaned against the wall to the right of one window. Incredible as it may seem, he was an exact duplicate, down to the smallest detail, of the Jap who sat’on the table. Height, figure, com- plexion, features—all were the same. There was just one tiny variation. - “Low down on his right cheek could be seen a barely perceptible discoloration, like a slight bruise, whereas the other man’s face was smooth and unblemished. In the uncertain light, few people would have noticed it, but it did not escape Edwards’ keen*eye. * “So that’s it, is it?” he said slowly. remaining in New Haven. muttered. jm f pitiless. up to for the past six months, and longer. iH. xactly,’ ’ Merriwell returned, closing the door and leaning against it. “You know our’ friend, Tukado Kintaro, who sits on the table; but I don’t believe you've ever been properly introduced to his brother. I can assure you he.is a most brilliant, charming fel- low.” ‘Neither of the foreigners uttered a word, but their expressions were widely different. The look of dis- mayed surprise was still present on the face of the younger fellow, but the countenance of the man stand- ing against the wall was absolutely impassive. His brilliant eyes surveyed the intruders coolly, calmly, im- penetrably. There was even a slightly bored look in them, as if he was annoyed, no more, at the interrup- He had not moved a muscle since the two men had entered tion. His graceftil, easy pose was unchanged. the room. His nerve and self-control was something to wonder at, and admire. “How in thunder did you find it out?” Edwards asked presently. . “It was simplicity itself,” Dick answered. “Coming back from the field to-night I happened to see the gentleman yonder in a car. He stood*directly under the light, so that I could not help seeing the bruise your fist had made on his cheek, even though it was partly hidden by skillfully applied cosmetics. I realized at once, of course, that, he was not the same man I had seen in Baxter’s rooms last night. It followed natu- rally that there must be two of them. I tracked him here, heard him call up his brother on the phone, and Well, that’s about all. ceived us, there would be scarcely any’ object in his H: ving successfully dle- My guess that he was about to leave, and that his brother would be around ‘to say good-by, and bring the bag, was merely a lucky fluke.” ~ “More good judgment than luck,” the secret agent Then for a moment jhe surveyed the Jap leaning against the wall. His eyes were keen, piereing, and Presently he broké the silence. mew I have you just where I want you, Kintaro,” he said i ina stern voice. “I know just what you've been You were TIP TOP “Dick 1 Merriwell’s Understanding e; or, The Man Was Hounded.” It's No. “759 of * Tip 7 PY and be on sale Cee, aoe , es iri | WEEKLY. . just a little bit too clever when you tried to put me é out of the way_the other night.” 4 a. d Fy e He paused, and then went on significantly: } aoe ke ’ ‘ . ° * at 1 don’t: think this climate is very healthful for z either you or your brother.. It seems to me a little trip ee back to Japan would do you both good. There are two steamers sailing to-morrow from New York. One does not weigh anchor until nearly noon, »1I should ‘ be Sorry to think of what might happen if you missed it.” A grim smile curved the corners of his mouth. “T make no threats, of course,” he continued. “‘I say nothing positive; but, were you to remain on the soil of the United States after to-morrow, it is quite possible that you might suddenly vanish from the face of the earth. U nderstand ?” The elder Jap shrugged his shoulders’a trifle, and smiled. Ss “Perfectly,” he returned suavely. “Your words - = are admirably lueid.” Gi m x * * * * * * Ta in ' ’ iz : f On the supplementary list of passengers of the Del- % phic, sailing the next morning from Hoboken, ap- ad peared the names of Okashi and Tukado Kintaro, ed : r. int ef Tokyo. | ik _ THE END, Sag ; ma y ee ie If you were a popular fellow at college, respected by sm: ) REM) 7 all your classmates, and you suddenly learned that your rap 4 aotie thir long lost brother was an ex-convict and a counter feiter, Be what would you do? Would you tell the other fellows all about it, trusting in’ their friendship and loyalty, or would you keep the secret to yourself and resort t deceit to shield\ your own reputation? That was the — problem which cofifronted a young man at Yale, a next week you can read what he decided and what | Natu rally our friend Dick didn’t stop at merely thinking did; and what Dick Merriwell thought about it. about it, either; he did a few things which changed th The story is call situation in a startling manner. ent eer ee i a : x NEW YORK, October 22, 1910. TERMS TO TIP TOP WEEKLY MAIL SUBSCRIBERS. (Postage Free.) Single Copies or Back Numbers, 5c. Each. PPOTITUR sak: ds Jue dane wone en 65e. One WOME fost ls Bonus yiedians teas $2.50 MEAG MUUG oe conacac sublease aheaws 85c¢, 2 copies one year.%........0... 4.00 G@ months vilssssc fs Mit Uae $1.25 1 Copy two. years.é.... 508.2... 4.00 How to Send Money—By post-office or express money order, registered letter, bank check or draft, at our risk. At your own risk if sent by currency, coin, or postage stamps in ordinary letter. Receipts—Receipt of your remittance is acknowledged by proper change of number on your label. If not correct you have not been properly credited, and should let us know at once. STREET & SMITH, Publishers, 79-89 Seventh Avenue, New York City. Ormonp G. Smitu, Georce C,. Smitn, : Proprietors. ON GOING SLOWLY. Most failures of attempts to make money can be traced to somebody being in too much of a-hurry. ° ' The person who is wildest in his desire for motiey is always very, young; there is so much for which he wants to spend the cash he is going to make, that he simply can’t wait—he must make his pile at once. So he doesn’t make it. Haste almost always means carelessness, or thoughtlessness, or _ tashness. “The best thing you can hope regarding your enemy 4n war, or your rival in business, is that he will be in a hurry, for should he fulfill your hopes, he will be sure to leave some point unguarded, some screw loose*by which you can gef the advantage of him, just as he will of you, if you don’t go slowly. _ But what if there isn’t any enemy or rival? Ah, but there’s _ sure to be; if you’re tempted to act hastily—hurry about a matter into which youve not looked carefully, your own rashness is likely to yndo you as thoroughly as if it were somebody else _ instead of part,of yourself. — It is upon the inability of some people to go. slowly that the managers of all wildcat enterprises depend for their sticcess in getting money. Haste upsets the sense of men otherwise very smart. ; i There is no place in the world where money changes hands so hours, that everybody was in a raging hurry. Well, most of them are, but most of them lose money instead of making it. Tn all the barrooms and offices near the Stock Exchange you will find scores of men who are in mad haste to buy or sell some particular stock, but if you were to meet the truly successful men, not knowing who they were, yox would think them the slowest men in “the street.” - ; These men act quickly at times, but this is a very different operation from hurrying, but it is the result of much patient, careful thought, which has taken into account everything likely o affect both sides of the subject. EAT ENOUGH SALT. Many of us forget that salt is as recessary for our consti- tutions as sugar is to the palate. It should be pict regularly as an article of diet, for although it is put into enough quantity is not obtained in this way to supply all that is Necessary. Many animals will take long’ migrations to obtain alt in larger quantities than they can get in their usual locality, we see that the desire for salt is a natural craving of animal alt, in the form'of rock, should be placed in: teach of all omestic animals, and it will be eagerly licked by them. LLP. TOP, WEEBLY. Yapidly and in such large sums as in Wall Street.. You would | think, were you to stand in the Stock Exchange during business | ur food, a large A Short Story by Vout Favorite Author. SQUIB’S TALKING HORSE. ° By BURT L. STANDISH. “Where is Squibs?” asked Abel Moran, pausing at the ranch door, with his hand on the bridle of the horse to whose back he had just adjusted the saddle. “T don’t know,” answered his wife. “I have not seen him for two hours.” “He is probably hidden around somewhere, talking to himself. I don’t see what has got into the boy! Ever since I took him to the show over at the Bend he has acted mighty odd. Likes to get off by himself, and I have heard him muttering in a queer manner when I have stumbled upon him once or twice. I did hope I would have a boy who’d amount to something, but——” “Don’t, Abel!” entreated the little woman. “You know he is a cripple, and he will outgrow his odd ways by and by.” “I hope. so. Well, I must get started if I hope to get to the Bend and back before dark. I was going to tell Squibs to look out for Demon and Jack, for there are horse thieves around.” “Little danger of Demon being stolen.” “That is true; but some rascal might run off with Jack. I gave the horse to Squib, and he must look out for it. Good-by, Lucy.” Then the rancher swung into the saddle, waved his hand toward his wife, and allowed his horse to bear him away at a gallop. The little woman watched the form of her husband till he disappeared beyond a swell in the rolling plain; then she was startled by hearing some one ask: “Where has father gone?” It was Squib, who came limping around the corner, a bare- footed, blue-eyed lad of twelve. “He has gone to the Bend,” answered Mrs. Moran, “and he did not like it at all because you were not about. Where were - you?” “Behind the big stable.” . “What doing?” “Practicing.” “Practicing what? Why in the world do you steal Bway by yourself so much of late?” “I don’t want to tell now, mother; but you shall know when I get it perfect. I am doing firstrate, and—— What’s boiling over?” The sizzling sound that came from the kitchen proclaimed something was wrong, and Mrs. Moran hastened to investigate. Later, she told Squib what his father had said about. horse thieves, but forgot to question him further, and the boy was not inclined to revert to the subject. The forenoon passed quietly, and it was midway in the after- noon that Squib, who was behind the big barn, whither he had gone to “practice,” was startled by the sudden appearance of a bewhiskered man, who came boldly around the corner. “Hello, younker!” saluted the stranger. “Where’s yer dad?” “Gone to the Bend, sir,” was the prompt reply. “Did-you wish to see him?” _ “Well, I should say so! I fave come all the way from North Ridge for that. When will he be back?” ; “Not before night, sir. Can you wait?” : “Don’t see how I'can. I heard he had an ugly horse that he’d like to get rid of.” “That is Demon, sir. “Nobody can do anything with him but me. Father says he will kill me some day, but I feed him and go in the pen where he is. He has never hurt me yet.” “IT buy such horses as that and break ’em. Make a pretty good thing out of it. My name is Filkins, Maybe you’ve heard of me?” f eo Squib was obliged to confess he had never heard of Mr. 11K1NS. Ry “Show me this horse, younker,” urged the man. “I can tell if I want him as soon as I clap my eyes on the critter.” So Squib took him around to the small corrallike pen jwhere Demon was confined. The horse was a splendid creature, with a coal-black, glossy coat, and proudly arching neck, its tail curving rearward like an ebony rainbow. But there was a vicious cast in its eye that told of a treacherous nature. Filkins immediately went into raptures over the animal and, despite Squib’s warning, attempted to enter the corral. He changed his wind suddenly when, with a fierce squeal, Demon charged upon him, and he beat a retreat that was more precipitate than graceful. “The animal surely needs breaking,” acknowledged Filkins ; or | 4 4 <4 28 ear Ee a “but I would soon have him tamed. Have you any other horses about ?” , “Only Jack. He belongs to me.” “Sell him? No? Well, let me have a look at him.” *. So Squib took the visitor into the stable where Jaek was kept. “Very fine horse,” commented Filkins, as he patted Jack’s flank. “Docile, too. Kmowing critter, I take it?” “You are right, sir,” said the boy proudly. “He knows more than lots of, people.” “Say, younker, just run into the house and ask your mother if she doesn’t think your father’ll be back before dark. I hate to hang around so long.” So unsuspecting Squib limped away toward the house to as- certain his mother’s opinion. Mrs. Moran met him at. the door, and he hastened to tell her about the visitor. She instantly became suspicious. oe he is a horse thief !’’ she exclaimed, “Oh, I don’t think so, mother!” “But be may be,” insisted the rancher’s wife. “You ought not to have left him alone with Jack. If he should steal the horse your father would be fearfully angry.” “Then I'll go watch him.” But as Squib turned to limp back toward the stable, Mrs. Moran uttered a cry of dismay. “Look there!” she screamed. \“There he goes now, and he is riding Jack away! He isa otnd thief!” She pointed to the figure of a horseman who was riding from the ranch buildings, and a single look showed Squib it was the visitor. Filkins had saddled and mounted Jack, and was making off with the valuz ible animal, The lame lad seemed stricken motionless with dismay, while his mother wrung her hands and sobbed: “Oh, I knew he was a thief!. This is terrible! You have let the man get away with Jack under our very eyes! What will Abel do? He said he wished he had a son who amounted to something, and ‘ “Father said that?” teed Squib. “Well, a son who amounts to something!’ Then he limped swiftly away toward the corral. Mrs. Moran followed. “What are you going to do?” she screamed excitedly. “Vm going to follow that thief,” replied the lame lad. “How can you?” “On Barba’ s back!” “No, no! You will be killed!’ You shall not get Jack from the thief if-you did follow! S “We shall see!” was the determined reply. Squib ran to the corral with remarkable swiftness, and he did not hesitate to fling the gate wide open. Then he darted in, caught the black horse by the maine, and managed to scramble upon its glossy back by means of the logs which composed the corral. “Stand back, mother!” shrilly commanded the boy. And the next moment the black horse shot out upon the open plain, Squib clinging like a monkey to its back. The plucky lad heard his mother cry out to him ag: ain, but his only thought was to overtake the thief and recover his beloved, Jack. Just how he was going to secure the horse wken the thief was overhauled he did not know, but he spent little time in think- ing of that. At first the black horse was inclined ‘to choose its own course but, with the loss of considerable time, Squib got the animal started on the right course. _. dt was a hard race, for the man had looked back and seen his pursuer. Away went pursued and pursuer, riding toward the south till the sun was low down in the west. . Gradually the boy drew nearer the thief, till, at length, he - saw Filkins disappear in a small patch of timber. Squib did not hesitate about riding straight after him. Suddenly a circling noose shot through the air, settling over "0 lame pursuer’s head and body. In another instant he was lying on the ground, nearly stunned into unconsciousness, wale emon galloped wildly away, unchecked. — } The horse thief had thrown Squib from Demon's back by . means of a skillfully cast lariat, and the man laughed harshly as he crouched over his captive. in alarm. he shall find he has not!, - |. “You're a gritty little rat,” he siNsicatieilinaa “but you was a fool to foller me. What did you think you was going to do?” | “T came after Jack,” replied the boy, sitting up and discovering _ the stolen horse, the animal being nonnens near at hand.’ ; pee rant 3 apn. You caitld to the Bend? the most attractive guise. WEEKLY, “Well, this beats the Dutch!” he cried. “How did you expect to get him?” “T didn’t know, with me.” “How can you be sure of that? “Oh, you don’t know!” replied Squib, struck by a sudden thought. ye didn’t tell you he was our talking horse, did I?” “T reckon not,” replied Filkins, looking puzzled. “There hain’t no horse as can talk.” “You may say so because you hevet heard Jack. You can talk, can’t you, Jack?” / Squib made the address direct to the horse, and the animal tossed its head. Then Filkins was astounded to hear the follow- ing words, apparently spoken by the horse: “You bet I can talk. I’m nobody’s fool.” The thief nearly fainted from astonishment. “Wh-wh-wh-what’s that?” he gurgled. “Blow thought the critter really did speak.” “And so I did,” nodded Jack, at the same time whisking his — tail. ‘What a bother these flies are!” “Holy smoke!” gasped Filkins. “I must be gettirig loony! There never was a horse as could say things like that.” “That’s where you“fool yourself,” the animal seemed to. assert, in a sneering manner. “I am educated, I would have you know. I don’t like your style.” The man could not utter a sound, though he tried to speak. “Don’t you want to go back home with me, Jack?” asked. Squib. “Of course I do,” was the brant answer. “What will you do if this man carries you away?” ; “T'll kick his brains out the first chance I get.” as Filkins sprang to his feet, gathering up. his lasso. At the same time, Squib made a signal which Jack understood, and, rearing into the air, the animal tore the picket pin from the soft. ground. Then, with a snort, he started toward the horse thief. “The devil’s in the critter!” yelled Filkins, and he fled for his life, quickly disappearing in the timber. : It did fiot take Squib long to climb upon Jack’s back and turn the recovered animal’s head toward the ranch. Out upon: the only | am sure Jack would want to go back He can’t say so.” me cold! [I ‘plain he discovered Demon, and, by a peculiar whistle the un- 4} tamed horse.had learned to know, he lured him to follow. The sun dropped down and disappeared in the west, and in the mellow darkness the triumphant boy rode home. The rancher had just returned and heard the story from his — wife when Squib rode up to the door, a shout breaking from his | lips. Abel Moran could scarcely believe the story his lame son told, but he saw Jack at the door, and in the darkness beyond lurked the dark form of Demon. i ie most scared him to death when Jack began to talk,” laughed quib. “But, such a thing is impossible!” asserted Moran, not talk.”’ “I know it,” confessed the lame boy; “but I did the talking for him. You remember the ventriloquist we saw in the show over Well, I have been learning to throw my voice, same as he did. I have been ene behind the stables or any- where that you would not hear me. e got so I can do it pretty well, and I fooled the thief into thinking it was Jack who did We talking.” It was some time before the rancher could fully understand it, but he did so at last, and then he was really proud of hisson. “It’s really wonderful!” he declared. And Squib considered his father’s praise the greatest reward he could receive. — From that day Abel Moran was truly proud of his son, eve though Squib never recovered ‘from his lameness, He told the story of the “talking horse” all over the sential and people came from miles around to see Squib, who was alway. urged to give an exhibition of his ventriloquil skill. Filkins stole other horses and was captured “red-hand Ni Mio “Jack can= receiving merited punishment for his misdeeds. WHAT ‘THE BOY IN ‘THE BACK SEAT KNEW, The teacher of the Sunday-school class was telling the little’ boys about temptation and_showing how it sometimes came in She used as an illustration the paw a Cat. clea “Now,” said she, “youeall have seen the paw of a cat. ate as, soft as velvet, isn’t it?” ee “Yesem,” from the class. “And have you seen the paw of a dog?” a3 FOP “Yesem.” “Well, although the cat’s paw seems like velvet, there is, never- theless, concealed in it something that hurts. What is it ?” No answer. “The dog bites,” does the cat do?” “Scratches,” replied a boy. we “Correct,” said the teacher, nodding her head approvingly. “Now, what has the cat got that the dog hasn’t?” “Whiskers!” exclaimed a boy on the back seat, and the titter that ran around the class brought the lesson to an end. said the teacher, “when he is in anger: What f » NOT TO BE BEATEN. A good story is told of one of the c canvassers of a leading pub- lishing ‘firm. He found his way into the private office of a bank, and saw the manager, who, as soon asi he learned his business, ordered him out. V ery quietly he said: “I meet with so many gentlemen in the course of the week that I can afford to meet a snob occasionally,” and took his departure. Next day he called at the bank again, and wished to open an * account. He was again shown into the manager’s office, and gave very satisfactory reasons ‘for opening the account, and deposited $8oo. The manager could do no less than apologize for his rudeness on the day preceding, and ordered a copy of the work, an expen- sive one, and allowed access to the clerks, several of whom did the same. Two days afterward every cent was drawn out. WHERE WORK IS PLEASANT. Neglected Wi fe—' ‘Why don’t you go to work?” - Husband (a ne’er-do-well)—“I ain’t got no tools.” _. Neglected Wife—*“Deacon Smith offered you five dollars to fix " his fence, and you have a saw, and a plane, and a hammer, and nails. What more do you want?” _ Husband—‘The saw ain’t no good, and I ain’t got no file to _ sharpen it. Ole Smith can fix his fence hisself.” Same Husband (ten years later)—‘“Hist! Say, wife, I’ve escaped from the penitentiary. Gimme some other clothes, so I _kin light out agin.” Wife—‘My, my! How did you get out?” ¥ _ ~*Husband—“I dug forty feet underground with a two-tined fork, and then cut my way through two feet of stone wall and . ten inches of boiler iron with a saw made out of a tin dinner gn : ld ANOTHER FRAUD EXPOSED, / _ Editor—“Got a man in your town*over one hundred years old, eh?” -Caller—“Yes, ge Editor—“Saws a cord of wood before breakfast, walks Lweritw pies a day, and ‘reads the finest print with ease, I suppose?” Caller—“No, sir; he’s very infirm, and half bifnd: re y eee oer I guess he can’t be over eighty.” t ‘THE ROOT OF THE EVIL. " ; Winks—“Hetlo! Gunning for that dog that bit your child, Pals (from the far West)—*No. The dee didh’t know any It’s the nature of that sort of a dog to bite. Everybody ‘Then what are you doing around here withtyour Winchester. £ you don’t intend to shoot the dog?” ee gunning for the man that owns it.” ed Two Se liberi went a little way out to’ see. some friends, and, king a little too freely, they Were much in liquor. Their friends would fain have persuaded them to stay all night, but they determined to go home. They set out accordingly, but before’ they had ‘got a mile on way one reeled and fell into a ditch. . e other, hearing hint fall, wailed out: atrick! shure if you are ‘dead tell\me.” ie. PRONE said Patrick; “I’m not dead, but ony re SILO LAOS REPT NTE ES ILE ET EE WEEKLY. APPLAUSE. What “Tip Top’? Did for One Reader. A friend gave me one of your “Tip Tops” to read, and I have now a few friends who are just crazy for them. “Tip Top” has helped me to get rid of many of my faults in life, and has made me stop.smoking and swearing. I thank you many times. A. W. WINZERLING. Belize B. Honduras, Central America. Best Weekly for the Price. I think your “Tip: Top Weekly” is the best that canbe got for the price, or even for ten cents. I carefully keep all the New Medal Library books about Dick, and have secured all except two. About a year ago I went to a store to get some old libraries. The ones I wanted were not in, so I took a few “Tip Tops”; after reading them I liked them so much that I have got one every week since then. My favorites are Frank, Bart, Inza, Elsie, and Hans and Efp; of Dick’s set, Dick, Brad, Tommy Tucker, and Joe Crowfoot. Joe ARNOLD. Brooklyn, N. Y. ‘Tip Top’? Beneficial in Many Ways. I am a constant reader of the “Tip Top Weekly,” and I think it contains the most interesting and beneficial stories that I éver laid my eyes upon; in fact, it is the “best of the best” of. all other weeklies. The “Tip Top Weekly” has encouraged me in my school work, helped me to. overcome bashfulness in com- pany, and it has benefited me in several other ways that are more noticeable to others than to myself. Many times friends tell me they have nothing to do, so I tell them to purchase a “Tip Top,” which they afterward like very much. Many a time a friend says to me that he has nothing to read. Of course I can always get-him into the habit of reading ‘ “iy * Top” by giving him one of the weeklies. Harry Sevin. Pittsburg, Pa Stories About Manly Boys. I ama constant reader of “Tip Top,” a great deal about baseball and football. girl for Dick. I have got my mother to read “Tip Top,” and she thinks the characters in the stories are very manly. Three cheers for Burt L. and S. & S. . C. C. BENNETT. Old. Mystic, Conn. “Tip Top’? Deserves Its Title. j I have enjoyed reading the “Tip Top Weekly” for two years, and Tt think it deserves the title of “king of weeklies.” ' The more stories I read the more interested I get in the paper. I have got- ten three men to read it, and a number of boys. I would like to hear more about Jack Ready, Hans D., Chet Arlington, and Frank M. The last “Tip Top” I\read was “Dick Merriwell’s Enigma.” It is a fine story, and I hope that there will be more stories like it. Threé cheers for Burt L. S. and the Merriwells. Akron, O! F..O. Sewer. Lively, Red-blooded Stories of Adventure. Some time ago I picked up a.“Tip Top,” and not having any- thing to do, I started to read it, and before I had gotten half “Way through, I had re it to be one of the most interesting books that I had ever read. It contains lively, red-blooded stories of adventure, and ‘the ‘characters are full of energy and manliness, I have spread the circulation among eighteen dif- ' ferent boys and three men. It has given me more benefit than I can say, and I propose three hearty cheers for the best author and the best book company in the United States. Laurel, Miss. ‘ Homer Pryor. “New Medais”’ are Publiebed Every Three Weeks. [ have been reading “Tip Top” ever since 1901, and to the best of my knowledge I have not missed a single copy. I have read every one of the Merriwell books of the Medal Lithrany, and ail of the New Medals, from “Frank Mertiwell’s Schooldays” to “Frank Merriwell in the Rockies.” In that last one Mr. Standish certainly did boost Denver, and Denver deserves it. This is a- cowboy town, and it is a fine place—for a graveyard. Can’t get any books! The last T read was “Dick Merriwell’s Pranks,” ands I will die if I don’t get those “Tip Tops” pretty soot that I now must take by mail. P. S—How can I tell w hen to send for the -_New Medals? Dolores, Colo. and it has taught me I think June is the Roy D. Bour, So many inquiries reach us from week to week concerning the various manuals on athletic development, which we publish, that we have decided to keep a list of them standing here. Any number can be had by mail by remitting-10 cents, and 3 cents postage, for each copy, to the publishers. : Frank Merriwell’s Book of Physical Development. The Art of Boxing and Self-defense, by Prof. Donovan. U. S. Army Physical Exercises, revised by Prof. Donovan. Physical Health Culture, by Prof. Fourmen. How to Be a Good Pitcher. These are my measurements! I am 17 years 5 feet 10 inches; waist, 29 expanded, 35/2 inches ; neck, hips, 33 inches; Do you think 3EN' Davis. ProF. FourMEN: old; weight, 151 pounds; height, inches; chest, normal, 33 inches; 14 inches; forearm, 9% inches} wrist, 7 inches; thighs, 19 inches; calf, 14 inches; ankle, 9 inches. I would make a successful baseball igen i Allen, Texas. You are not built for an all-round. athlete. You fall far short of the standard measurements for such a person. It is more than likely, however, that you will develop.as you grow older. It is the ambition of almost. every boy, when beginning to play ball, to become a successful pitcher.! Any young player who has, good control of the ball will become one. this control, which is so essential, there is nothing like practice, and plenty of it. Then come the curves. What is neded for a successful pitcher is brains, a cool head, quick wit, and some ability. Do Not Go Upon the Variety Stage. Pror. FourMEN: Will you kindly answer me what your opin- ion is of triple-bar performing? I am employed during the day as stenographer, and I generally spend my evenings at the gym-* ark of the Young Men’s Christian Association, I am very fond of the bar, and I am thinking of getting a set of triple bars and net in the spring. I have not, as yet, any intention of going on the stage, except at local entertainments in this city. Can you give me any information, or the hame of any books on triple- bar performing? Are there very many triple-bar performers, and what salary do they command while on the stage? Chicago, Ill. Jose pu A, WHITE. For an exercise, the triple bar is excellent; but, don’t take it up as a profession. I have always advised boys not to go upon the variety stage, and I repeat shat warning now to you. It is a life which is full of temptations, and a career in no way to be desired. The salary of triple-bar performers varies from twenty-five dol- lars a week upward, according to their ability. But to obtain the ‘maximum, you must be remarkably clever. For a career in life, turn your mind in some other direction. % To obtain Sensible,»Moderate Exercise is Best. Prof. FourmeN: Will you kindly tell me if I am the correct build for my age and size, and how I can improve the calves of my legs? [I run the mile and two miles for my school. Age, 18 years 8 months; weight, 135 pounds; waist, 29 inches; chest, normal, 32 inches; expanded, 3534 inches; ankles, 8 inches; calves, 13% inches: légs, 20% inches; wrists, 614 inches; fore- arms, 104% inches; neck, 14 inches. I am not addicted to any bad habits. Is running good for me? I always feel exhausted for about five minutes after running a long race. Is it a bad sign? Mill ‘Valley, Cal. JoHN Mace, Your weight and measurements are of a very fair average for a height of 5 feet 7 inches. Your chest is your weakest point; - your expansion should measure three or four inches more, Prac- I do not know of any,books which would help you. . WEEKLY. , also Each Running can do you but you should not in- A regular amount followed after tice deep-breathing exercises for this. Walking, running bicycling will develop the muscles of the calves of the leg. day practice rising on the heels fifty times. no harm if you are in good condition; dulge in exercise that leavygs you exhausted. of sensible exercise should be taken every day, you have cooled off, by a cold shower or sponge bath. About Keeping a Cigar Store. Prof.) FourmMEN: I am nearly 17 years old, and am going to school, but expect this will be my last term. Do you think the cigar and newspaper business good, and what would it cost to set up a store, exclusive of rent? I have quite a knowledge of the news trade, but know nothing about cigars. Wotd I have to go into some store to learn the different brands? Would any wholesale cigar store furnish me with goods to sell on commis- sion? A. RYAN. 3rooklyn, N. Y. : Any business that will pay is a good one, and if your inclina- tions run to the cigar and newspaper business, your course is a straightforward one—go into it and do your best. You cannot very well do business without capital, but if once established, you will be able to get credit, so that you can get your magazines and papers and pay for them when you receive your money, thus keeping your original capital intact. We should think, if you are careful to secure a good location, and can build up a good trade, that you would have nothing more to desire. As to cigars, you can readily procure an assortment from any wholesale dealer in New York City, of different grades and prices, so as to meet the demands of your customers without your being obliged to have any specific knowledge of tobacco at all. It will, therefore, not be necessary to enter the employ of any tobacconist in order to acquaint yourself with the different brands of tobacco, for you can readily gain all the information needful by watching your. customers and noting their peculiarities. Try Systematic and Regular Exercise. Pror. Fourmen: I am 16 years 11 months old; weight, 109 pounds stripped; chest, normal, 31 inches; expanded, 3434 inches ; biceps, normal, 10 inches;. expanded, 11% inches; waist, 25% _— inches; hips, 31 inches; calf, 13 inches; ankle, 8% inches ; thigh, — 19 inches; forearm, 11% inches; wrist, 614 inches; neck, 13%. inches. My, height is 5 feet 5 inches. My heart beat is only 68 Have I any weak spots? *V hat exercises do I need? Portland, Ore. . A. K. C. Your average measurements are good proportionately, but you i should weigh ten pounds heavier. Your chest measurement is — shy a couple of inches, and would be improved by deep-breathing . exercises. You should exercise as much as possible in the open — air. Walking and rowing are good, while dumb-bell exercises — help to expand the chest and bring in play nearly every muscle of the body, when used systematically. Be careful not to overdo at _ first. A little systematic exercise, with deep RecA taken regularly, will do much benefit. \ How to Learn Boxing. Pror. Fourmen: The following are my measurements: Age, 16 years; height, 5 feet 714 inches; neck, 14 inches; across shoul /ders, 21 inches;®chest, normal, 36 iniches ; expanded, 38 inches 29 inches; biceps, 111%4 inches; forearm, 11 inches; wrist, calf, 14 inches; ankle, 9 inches. What are my weak By hard work with dumb-bells, Indian clubs, and pul- 11 become a good boxer? I have a good wind and can Wiuey 1} Mosats. waist, io sches 5 points? leys, could run four afd a half miles,without stopping. / Durham: N.C. pi Your measurements average fairly well, but your swaiak line With ridpudade daily exercise ‘Seige is no apparent reason why you,should not become a boxer. Boxing difficult to learn from béoks or by reading instructions. It i better to take a few lessons from a Pee teacher Ndi for ence weight. put Oe os to your — poinits. ~ we “SS, WSe W» PPGRSEL Sn add dele duaucdinaduaswusnbouguay di ‘a ubnan wey and that the score mv et trye OOP hasten nett nen tg meg RR rent aren weed eee Ton etngeermr pte eet SN EE PORT SEE A NF PE MR OT TE I STR ONE OT DEE TEL, GO NILE TIO LOOP OR Tip Top Baseball Tournament for 1910 Is On CONTEST CLOSES OCTOBER 15 PLAY BALL AND WIN A CLUB OUTFIT Get after them. it's up to you, boys, to land the prizes. Do your best, Make the scores .that will put you in right for first or sec6n d place. The rules of the contest for 1910 differ somewhat from those of last year. Read all about it in the form below: PLAYER’S CERTIFICATES. , N fairness to all the clubs that enter this contest, and that there may be no doubt as to whom the prizes should go, Trp Tor has decided to require a certificate from each member of . the nine as well as the Club Certificate. Below is the coupon - which each member should cut out, sign and give to the manager “of the nine that he may send it along with the Club Certificate, ‘Write in the names of the clubs that played, the date of the gaine, _ the score and the name of the winner. PLAYER’S CERTIFICATE. TIP TOP BASEBALL TOURNAMENT FOR 1910. This is to certify that I have played in the game between the t i dt teh See OU oa PADS oe a Pi a ree a a eas Pee ie ho ge scat te in favor of. (Signature.) ‘ TO DECIDE A TIE. Should there be a tie, in runs and games played, of two or more clubg in the highest- score class, such tie will be decided by the batting and fielding record of the tied clubs. he one having the best record in that respect will be declared the winner, The eaptains f competing teams are advised, therefore, to preserve the general, or detailed score, of every game played, but not to send it to Tip TQP with the Club Certificate. You will be called upon for the general score only in case feat club should be one of those i in a tie, aes CONDITIONS OF CONTEST. IIE two teams which, at the end of the season, have, the : highest average—that is, play the greatest number of games, score the most runs, and lose the least number of games—will be declared the winners. Of these two the one having the higher average will be declared the TIP TOP CHAMPIONSHIP TEAM OF THE ALL-AMERICAN BASE- BALL TOURNAMENT OF 1910, and will receive a beautiful silk .penant bearing suitable words. Each winning team will receive a full equipment, consisting of trousers, shirt, stockings, shoes and cap for nine members. For each game played the score, signed by the manager, mugt be sent to the editor of Tie Top. The manager must see to it, alsa, that every player of his nine signs one of the certificates printed at the left of this—the one headed, ‘“‘Player’s Certificate.’? Each player must sign a separate certificate, and these—nine in all for each game—must accompany every Club Certificate—sent to this office, ‘To substantiate the score, get your postmaster, or one or more-of the newsdealers of whom you buy your Tie Tops, to sign the Club Certificate on the line printed at the bottom. Whengpossible, send in newspaper accounts of the games. No notice will be taken of any score not entered on a Club Certifi- cate cut out of Trp Top; nor will any notice be taken of a score not accompanied by a signed Player's Certificate for every member of the nine. ‘CLUB CERTIFICATE NAMES OF TEAM.) PAA CNA R RHO OR ECR OTOH TERE R eR eeeenseessenesee [RO ee Pe enone ne Peweeee Pitcher SPR POR Re eRe ese ERE een ERE H EER Rene ee ve eebceaeiet itt t eee ete Poe TEPC Tee Ter ttt i et? ett ie i iri eee tee ee \ \ ’ Cin ttn ee ee ee ee ee eee ee ee ee ee) CPOE w ees Ist Base TT TEP e eT Tee eT Te eee eee ed RETRO OR eRe mene ARR Hane Rhee REO mm ER HE ERE ORR eRe eR Re eR eR ERE EERE HEE EEO EERE EH SEE EES 2d Base , rs = ——— een §82—Frank > Mr + =—ALL, OF THE BACK NUMBERS O .- TIP TOP WEEKLY THAT CAN NOW BE SUPPLIED bn 241—Frank Merriwell’s Kick. 541—Dick Merriwell’s Heart. 621—Dick Merriwell’s Condition. 697—Dick Merriwell’s Ranch 242—Frank Merriwell’s High Jump 542—KFrank Merriwell’s New Auto. 622—Dick Merriwell’s Stanchness. Friends, | 248—Frank Merriwell’s “Brassie”’ 543—Frank Merriwell’s Pride. 623—Dick Merriwell’s Match. 698—Frank Merriwell at Phantom 544—Frank Metrriwell’s Young 624—Frank Merriwell’s Hard Case Lake. 625—Frank Merriwell’s Helper. 699—F rank Merriwell’s Hold-back. ments. 545—Dick Merriwell’s Lead. 626—F rank Merriwell’s Doubts. 700—Frank Merriwell’s Lively Lads 246—Frank Merriwell’s Mastery. $46—Dick Merriwell’s Influence. 627—-Frank Merriwell’s “Phenom.” 701—Frank Merriwell as Instructot1 247—Frang Merriwell’s Dilemma. £47—Dick Merriwell’s Top Notch. 628—Dick Merriwell’s Stand. 702—Dick Merriwell’s Cayuse. Shot. 245—Frank Merriwell’s Entertain- Winners. I 249—Frank Merriwell’s Search. 548—Frank Merriwell’s Kids. 629—Dick Merriwell’s Circle. 7038—Dick Merriwell’s Quirt. 250—Frank Merriwell’s Ring. 549—Frank Mcrriwell’s Kodakers. 6380—Dick Merriwell’s Reach. 704—Dick Merriwell’s Freshman 251—Frank Merriwell’s Party. 550—Dick Merriwell, Freshman. 631—Dick Merriwell’s Money. Friend. 253—Frank Merriwell’s Skill. 551—Dick Merriwell’s Progress. 632—Dick ) well Watched. 705—Dick Merriwell’s Best Form. 254—Frank Merriwell’s Club. 552—Dick Merriwell, Half-back. 638—Dick Me®well Doubted. 706—Dick Merriwell’s Prank. 255-—Frank Merriwell’s Scheme. 5538—Dick Merriwell’s Resentment. 634—Dick Merriwell’s Distrust. 707—Dick Merriwell’s Gambol. 256—Frank Merriwell’s Mysteri- 554—Dick Merriwell Repaid. 635—Dick Merriwell’s Risk. 708—Dick Merriwell’s Gun. ous Move. 555—Dick Merriwell’s Staying Power 636—Frank Merriwell’s Favorite. 709—Dick Merriwell at His Best. 257—Frank Merriwell’s Hand. 556—Dick Merriwell’s “Push.” 637—Frank Merriwell’s Young 710—Dick Merriwell’s Master Mind 258—Frank Merriwell’s Suspicion. 557—Dick Merriwell’s Running. Clippers, 711—Dick Merriwell's Dander. 259—F rank Merriwell’s Trust. 558—Dick Merriwell’s Joke. 638—Frank Merriwell’s Steadying 712—Dick Merriwell’s Hope. 261—Frank Merriwell’s Bosom 559—Dick Merriwell’s Seven. Hand. ; 713—Dick Merriwell’s Standard. Friend. 560—Dick Merriwell’s Partner. 639—Frank | Merriwell’s Record- 714—Dick Merriwell’s Sympathy. 262—Frank Merriwell Deceived. 561—Dick Merriwell in the Tank. Breakers. 715—Dick Merriwe} in Lumber 33—Dick Merriwell’s “Phantom.” 562—Frank Merriwell’s Captive. | 640—Dick Merriwell’s Shoulder. Land. 467—Dick Merriwell in Egypt. 563—Frank Merriwell’s Trailing. 641—Dick Merriwell’s Desperate 716—Frank Merriwell’s Fairness. 469—Frank Merriwell’s Retaliation. 5}64—Frank Merriwell’s Talisman. Work. | 717—Frank Merriwell’s Pledge. 485—Dick Merriwell 1n Manila. 565—Frank Merriwell’s Horse. 642—Dick Merriwell’s Example. 718—Frank Merriwell, the Man of 486—Dick Merriwell Marooned. 566—Frank Merriwell’s Intrusion. 6483—Dick Merriwell At Gale’s _ Grit. : 488—Dick Merriwell, Gap-Stopper. 567—Frank Merriwell’s Bluff. Ferry... 719—Frank Merriwell’s Return 489—Dick Merriwell’s Sacrifice Hit 568—Dick Merriwell’s Regret. 644—Dick Merriwell’s . Inspiration. -_ Blow 569—Dick Merriwell’s Silent Work. 645—Dick Merriwell’s Shooting. 720—Frank Merriwell’s Quest. 570—Dick Merriwell’s Arm. 646—Dick Merriwell in the Wilds. 721—Frank Merriwell’s Ingots. 571—Dick Merriwell's Skill. 647—Dick Merriwell’s Red Comrade 722—Frank Merriwell’s Assistance. 490—Dick Merrtwell’s Support. 491—Dick Merriwell’s Stroke. 492—-Dick Merriwell Shadowed. 493—Dick Merriwell's Drive. 572—Dick Merriwell’s Magnetism. 648—Irank Merriwell’s Ranch. 723—Frank Merriwell at the 494—Dick Merriwell’s Return. 578—Dick Merriwell’s System. 649—Frank Merriwell in the Saddle Throttle. 495—Dick Merriwell’s Restoration. 574—Dick Merriwell’s Salvation. 650—F rank Merriwell’s Brand. 724—lrank Merriwell, the Always 496—Dick Merriwell’s Value. 575—Dick Merriwell’s Twirling. 651—F rank Merriwell’s Red Guide _ Ready. 497—Dick Merriwell’s “Dukes.” 576—Dick Merriwell’s Party. — 652—Dick Merriwell’s Rival. 725—Frank Merriwell in Diamond 498—Dick Merriwell’s Drop Kick. 577—Dick Merriwell's Backers. 653—Dick Merriwell’s Strength. Land. 499—Dick Merriwell’s Defeat. 578—Dick Merriwell’s Coach. 4—Dick Merriwell’s Secret Work 726—Frank Merriwell’s Desperate 500—Dick Merriwell’s Chance, 579—Dick Merriwell’s Bingle. 655—Dick Merriwel-'s Way. Chance, & 501—Dick Merriwell’s Stride. 580—Dick Merriwell’s Hurdling. 656—Frank Merriwell’s Red Visitor 727—Frank Merriwell’s Black -Ter- 502—Dick Merriwell’s Wing-Suit. | 581-—Dick Merriwell’s Best Work) 657—Frank Merriwell’s Rope. RO igre 503—Dick Merriwell’s Skates. 582—Dick Merriwell’s Respite. 658—Frank Merriwell’s Lesson. 728—Frank Merriwell Again on 504—Dick Merriwell’s Four Fists. 583—Dick Merriwéll’s Disadvantage 659—Frank Merriwell’s Protection the Slab. 505—Dick Merriwell’s Dashing Game 584—Dick Merriwell Beset. 660—Dick Merriwell’s Reputation. 729—Frank Merriwell’s Hard Game 506—F rank Merriwell’s Tigers. 585—Dick Merriwell’s Great Rival. 661—Dick Merriwell’s Motto. - « 507—Frank Merriwell’s Treasure 586—Dick Merriwell’s Distrust. 662—Dick Merriwell’s Restraint. 731—Frank Merriwell’s Duplicate. Guard. 587—Dick Merriwell, DLion-Tamer. 663—Dick Merriwell’s Ginger. 732—Frank Merriwell on Rattle- 508—Frank Merriwell’s Flying Fear 588—Dick Merriwell’s Camp-site. 664—Dick Merriwell’s Driving. snake Ranch, 509—Dick Merriwell in Maine. 589—Dick Merriwell’s Debt. 665—Dick Merriwell’s Good Cheer. 733—Frank Merriwell’s Sure Hand 510—Dick Merriwell’s Polo Team. 590—Dick Merriwell’s Camp-Mates 666—Frank Merriwell’s Theory. 511—Dick Merriwell in the Ring. 591-—Dick Merriwell’s Draw. 667—Frank Merriwell’s Diplomacy. Map. : 512—Frank Merriwell’s New Idea. 592—Dick Merriwell’s Disapproval. 668—Frank Merriwell’s Encour- 785—Frank Merriwell, Prince of 513—Frank Merriwell’s Trouble. 593—Dick Merriwell’s Mastery. agement. the Rope. z 594—Dick Merriwell’s Warm Work 669—Frank Merriwell’s Great Work 736—Dick Merriwell, Captain of « 514—Frank Merriwell’s Pupils. o ! , 2 > : 515—Dick' Merriwell’s Satisfaction 595—Dick Merriwell’s. “Double 670—Dick Merriwell’s Mind. the Varsity, | 516—Dick Merriwell’s Discernment. Squeeze.” i 671—Dick Merriwell’s “Dip.” 737—Dick Merriwell’s Control. 517—Dick Merriwell’s Friendly Hand 596—Dick Merriwell’s Vanishing. 672—Dick Merriwell’s Rally. 738—Dick Merriwell's Back Stop. ‘ 518—Frank Merriwell’s New Boy. 597—Dick Merriwell Ad 673—Dick Merriwell’s Flier. 739—Dick Merriwell’s Masked En- 519—F rank Merriwell’s Mode. 598—Dick Merriwell’s. Influence, 674—Frank Merriwell’s Bullets. emy. ; - §20—Frank Merriwell’s Aids. 599—Frank Merriwell’s Worst Boy. 675—Frank Merriwell Cut. Off. 740—Dick Merriwell’s Motor Car. 521—Dick Merriwell’s Visit. 600—-Frank Merriwell’s Annoyance 676—Frank Merriwell’s Ranch Boss 741—Dick Merriwell’s Hot Pursuit. 522—-Dick Merriwell’s Retaliation. 601—Frank Merriwell’s Restraint. 677—Dick Merriwell’s Equal. L 523—Dick Merriwell’s Rival. 602—Dick Merriwell Held Back. | 678—Dick Merriwell’s Development. 743—Dick Merriwell in Couré. 524—-Frank Merriwell’s Young Crew 603—Dick Merriwell in the Line. 679—Dick Merriwell 8 Eye. ¢ 744—Dick Merriwell’s Silence. 25—Frank Merriwell’s Fast Nine. 604—Dick Merriwell’s Drop Kick. 680—Frank Merriwell’s Zest. 745—Dick Merriwell’s Dog. 526—Frank _ Merriwell’s Athletic 605—Frank Merriwell’s Air Voyage. 681—Frank Merriwell’s Patience. 748 nick Merriwell’s Subt f Field. 606—F rank Merriwell’s Auto. Chase, 682—Frank Merriwell’s Pupil. TAT ae Muriiedil’s tree 527—Dick Merriwell’s Reprisal. 607—Frank Merriwell’s Captive. | 683—Frank Merriwell’s Fighters. 747—Dick Merriwell’s Enigma. 528—Dick Merriwell Dared. 608—Dick Merriwell’s Value. 684—Dicle Merriwell at the “Meet” 748—Dick Merriwell Defeated. 529—Dick Merriwell’s Dismay. 609—Dick Merriwell Doped. 685—Dick Merriwell’s Protest. 749—Dick Merriwell’s ““Wing.” _ 530—Frank Merriwell’s Son. 610—Dick Merriwell’s Belief. 686-—Dick Merriwell in the Mara- 750—Dick Merriwell’s Sky Chase. 531—Frank Merriwell’s Old Flock. 611—Frank Merriwell in the Mar- .. ‘_ thon. 751—Dick Merriwell’s Pick-ups Merriwell’s House ket. 687—Dick Merriwell’s Colors. 752—Dick Merriwell on the Rocking R : 612—Frank Merriwell’s Fight for 688—Dick Merriwell, Driver. ya Dick ¥ ea ee ee 533—Dick Merriwell’sSummerTeam Fortune. 89-—Dick Merriwell on the Deep. 753 — ick Merriwell’s Penetration. 534—Dick Merriwell’s Demand. 613—TF rank Merriwell on Top. 690—Dick Merriwell in the North 754—Dick Merriwell’s Intuition. . 535—Dick Merriwell’s Slabmate. 614—Dick Merriwell’s Trip West. > Woods. 755—Dick Merriwell’s Vantage. — 536—Frank Merriwell’s Summer 615—Dick Merriwell’s Predicament 691—Dick Merriwell’s Dandies. 756—Dick Merriwell’s Advice. _ Camp. , 616—Dick Merriwell in Mystery 692—Dick Merriwell’s “Skyscooter” wre sar Arorriwal)? 537—Frank Merriwell’s Proposal. Valley. ee 803-2Dick Merriwell in the Bik pair ene eae ene 538—Frank Merriwell’s' Spook- 617—Frank Merriwell’s Proposition Mountains. Ce ee A RAW and ,. CAMO RAR IRaR ; hunters. 589—Dick Merriwell’s Cheek. 540—Dick Merriwell’s Sacrifice. 618—Frank Meryiwell Perplexed. 694—Dick Merriwell in Utah. 619—Frank Mefriwell’s Suspicion. 695—Dick Merriwell’s Bluff. 620—Dick eee Gallantry. PRICE, FIVE CENTS PER COPY If you want any back numbers of our weeklies and cannot procure them from your newsdealer, they can be ‘ obtained direct from this office. Postage stamps taken the same as money. | STREET @ SMITH, Publishers, 79 Seventh Ave., New York City 730—Frank Merriwell’s Six-in-hand ~ 734—Frank Merriwell’s Treasure | 742—Dick Merriwell at Forest Lake i 759—Dick Merriwell’s Understand- | ing. ; 96—Dick Merriwell in the Saddle. 760—Dick Merriwell, Tutor. ae: re Sedge ta eae eee ea ee ed eek eee ee ek eee ee EAR E Ye - Nee pE RS. OF 1 Pik TIP TOP WEEKLY WILL BE FOUND IN THE NEW MEDAL LIBRARY A few years ago, we were obliged to disappoint thousands of boys who wanted the early adventures of Frank and Dick Merriwell which were published i EGP TOP, because we did not have copies of the numbers that contained them. It was impossible for us to reprint TIP TOP WEEKLY, so we made the stories up in book form and published them in the NEW MEDAL LIBRARY at intervals of about four weeks beginning with No. 150. Here is a list of these splendid books which contain Nos. 1 to 501 of TIP TOP WEEKLY. Our experience with these books has taught us that thousands of boys are overjoyed at this opportunity to secure their favorite Merriwell’s School-days. Merriwell’s Chums. Merriwell’s Foes. Merriwell’s Trip West. Merriwel! Down South. Merriwell’s Bravery. Merriwell’s Hunting Tour. Merriwell in Europe. Merriwell at Yale. Merriwell’s Sports Afield. Merriwell's Races. Merriwel!'’s Bicycle Tour. Merriweil’s Courage. Merriwell’s Daring. Merriwell’s Athletes. Merriwell’s Skill. Merriwell’s Champions. Merriwell’s Merriwell’s Merriwell’s Danger. Merriwell’s Loyalty. Merriwell in Camp. Merriwell’s Vacation. Merriwell’s Cruise. Merriwell’s Chase. Merriwell in Maine. Merriwell’s Struggle. Merriwell’s First Job. Merriwell’s Opportunity. Merriwell’s Hard Luck. Merriwell’s Protégé. Merriwell on the Road. Merriwell’s Own Company. Merriwell’s Fame. Merriwell’s Merriwell’s Merriwell’s Merriwell’s Merriwell’s Prosperity. Merriwell’s Stage Hit. Merriwell’s Great Scheme. Merriwell in England. 150—F rank 167—F rank 178—Frank 184—F rank 189—F rank 193—F rank 197—Frank 201—F rank 205—l rank 209—F rank 213—Frank 217—Frank 225—F rank 229—F rank 233—Frank 237—F rank 240—F rank 244—lrank 247—F rank 251—F rank 254—F rank 258—F rank 262—F rank 267—F rank 271—F rank 276—F rank 280—F rank 284—F rank 288—F rank 292—F rank 296—F rank 300—F rank 304—F rank 308—Frank 312—F rank 316—Frank 320—F rank * 324—F rank 328—F rank 332—F rank 336—Frank 340—F rank 344—Frank 348—Frank 352—Frank Secret. Problem. Fortune. Merriwell’s Duel. Merriwell’s Double Shot. stories in a more permanent form. Return to Yale. College Chums. New Comedian. Merriwell on the Boulevards. 356—F rank Merriwell’s Baseball Victories 3590—Frank Merriwell’s Confidence. 362—Frank Merriwell’s Auto. 365—Frank Merriwell’s Fun. 308—Frank Merriwell’s Generosity. 371—Frank Merriwell’s Tricks. 374—F rank Merriwell’s Temptation. 377—Frank Merriwell on Top. 380—Frank Nerriwell’s Luck. 383—Frank Merriwell’s Mascot. 386—Frank Merriwell’s Reward. 3890—F rank Merriwell’s Phantom. 392—Frank Merriwell’s Faith. 305—Frank Merriwell’s Victories. 308—Frank Merriwell’s Iron Nerve. 4o1i—Frank Merriwell in Kentucky. 404—Frank Merriwell’s Power. 407—Frank Merriwell’s Shrewdness. 410—Frank Merriwell’s Set-back. 413—Frank Merriwell’s Search. 416—Frank Merriwell’s Club. 419—Frank Merriwell’s Trust. 422—F rank Merriwell’s. False Friend. 425—Frank Merriwell’s Strong Arm. 428—Frank Merriwell as Coach. 431—Frank Merriwell’s Brother. 434—Frank Merriwell’s Marvel. 437—Frank Merriwell’s Support. 440—Dick Merriwell at Fardale. 443—Dick Merriwell’s Glory. 446—Dick Merriwell’s Promise. 449—Dick Merriwell’s Rescue. 452—Dick Merriwell’s Narrow Escape. 455—Dick Merriwell’s Racket. 458—Dick Merriwell’s Revenge. 461—Dick Merriwell’s Ruse. 464—Dick Merriwell’s Delivery. 467—Dick Merriwell’s Wonders. 470—Frank Merriwell’s Honor. 473—Dick Merriwell’s Diamond. 476—Frank. Merriwell’s Winners. 479—Dick Merriwell’s Dash. 482—Dick Merriwell’s Ability. 485—Dick Merriwell’s Trap. 488—Dick Merriwell’s Defense. PRICE, FIFTEEN :CENTS. 491—Dick Merriwell’s Model. 494—Dick Merriwell’s Mystery. 497—Frank Merriwell’s Backers. 500—Dick Merriwell’s Backstop. 503—Dick Merriwell’s Western Mission. 506—F rank Merriwell’s Rescue. 509—F rank Merriwell’s Encounter. 512—Dick Merriwell’s Marked Money. 515—Frank Merriwell’s Nomads. 518—Dick Merriwell on the Gridiron. 521—Dick Merriwell’s Disguise. 524—Dick Merriwell’s Test. 527—Frank Merriwell’s Trump Card. 530—Frank Merriwell’s Strategy. 533—Frank Merriwell’s Triumph. 536—Dick Merriwell’s Grit. 530—Dick Merriwell’s Assurance. 542—Dick Merriwell’s Long Slide. 545—Frank Merriwell’s Rough Deal. 548—Dick Merriwell’s Threat. 551—Dick Merriwell’s Persistence. 554—Dick Merriwell’s Dad. 557—Frank Merriwell’s Peril. 560—Dick Merriwell’s Downfall. 503—Frank Merriwell’s Pursuit. 566—Dick Merriwell Abroad. 5609—Frank Merriwell in the Rockies. 572—Dick Merriwell’s Pranks. 575—Frank Merriwell’s Pride. 578—Frank Merriwell’s Challengers. 581—Frank Merriwell’s Endurance. 584—Dick Merriwell’s Cleverness. 587—Frank Merriwell’s Marriage. Published about October 18th. s90—Dick Merriwell, the Wizard. Published about November 8th. 503—Dick Merriwell’s Stroke. Published about November 20th. 5906—Dick Merriwell’s Return. Published about December 2oth. s99—Dick Merriwell’s Resource. STREET & SMITH, Publishers, NEW YORK CITY