OCT 15, 1910 5 CENTS

 

IDEAL PUBLICATION FORTHE AMERICAN YOU
Dick MERRIWELL'S RESCUE

Dick came swiftly onward, run-
Mee ning with the ball. The chance
id eaeae..” . Ne RS had come at last; and with hot
Wwew yore), * na hatred in his heart the scrub
, i player plunged forward to tackle

Dick.

 

 

 
 
 

 

 

 

 

 

féF the AuBFicanYotth

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Issued Weekly. By subscription $2.50 per year. Entered as Second-class Matter at the N. Y. Post Office, by STREET & SMITH, 79-89 Seventh Ave., NV. Y.
Copyright, 1910, dy STREET & SMITH.

 

No. 757.

NEW YORK, October 15, 1910.

Price Five Cents.

| Dick Merriwell’s Rescue; |

OR,

THE REGENERATION OF RUDOLPH, ROSE.

2

By BURT L. STANDISH.

CHAPTER I.
A BITTER CUP.

Rudolph Rose sat alone in his luxuriously furnished
_ sitting room, a prey to feelings of the most unenviable
description. It was the night after the football game
- with Syracuse, in which he had played so ignoble a
part, and which was won on an extremely close mar-
gin by Dick Merriwell’s spectacular round-the-end
dash for a goal.

Rose himself had played right tackle for the first
two quarters, but his game had been so increasingly
“bad that, at the beginning of the third Brad Buckhart,
acting as captain, took him out of the line and put in
Teddy Baxter, a fellow for whom Rose had always
entertained a feeling of unmitigated contempt.
_ That was quite enough to drive any one wild with
anger, and Rose was not a man with any very great
amount of self-control. He had positively frothed at
the mouth and vowed then and there that he would get
even with Baxter at the first possible moment.
_. His opportunity came very soon After the game
was over and the players hustled into the athletic house,

;

:

he waited outside, taking up his position around the
corner of the building, with the full intention of catch-
ing Baxter when he came out and administering the
worst licking his big, silent classmate had ever experi-
enced. ..«

He had done this once before at the end of their
freshman year, for, though big and brawny, Baxter
had not then a particle of science in handling his fists,
and Rose figured out that it would be an easy matter |
to repeat the performance. __ .

There was just one little flaw in his argument, and
for that he was not to blame. How was he to know
that the “big, overgrown baby,’ as he was wont to
classify the fellow he disliked, had spent his summer
in trying to teach himself to box? And more than
that, how could he possibly have guessed that Dick
Merriwell, conceiving a liking fo® Baxter, had been
spending a good deal of his spare time for the past
week in perfecting the sophomore’s knowledge of the
art of self-defense? |

The result was naturally an overwhelming surprise
to Rose. Instead of hammering Baxter all over the

 
perfection.

fe loud knock at the door.

“Come in!”
‘There was a rattlé at-the knob, and then a voice ©

ir Tee

place, as he had ‘confidently planned to do, he himself
had been knocked senseless by as clean an uppercut
as was ever administered, and when he came to, in the
athletic house, whither he had been carried by some
of the members of the eleven, the comments of the men
about him, the sly sarcasms, the bitter jibes, stung him
like so many arrow points and drove him almost mad.

He had been barely able to contain himself until he
reached the seclusion of his rooms and locked the
door. Then he had given way to a fit of passion which

Yasted more than half an hour and left him physically

exhausted by its vehemance.

In the beginning he had vowed to kill Teddy Baxter
the first time they met. When he was.a little cooler
he realized that such a course was, naturally, impos-
sible; but his virilent hatred was in no wise lessened,
and he began to cast about for a plan by which he
might obtain full and complete revenge for the humilia-
tion he had suffered.

It had been more than galling from the fact that
Rudolph Rose was not a fellow who was accustomed
to take a second place. Handsome, wealthy, and popu-
lar—not entirely because of his abundant means as so
many rich fellows are, but principally on account of a
certain, undeniable charm-of manner which he could

exert when he chose—he had always taken the lead in

everything he went into. His athletic accomplishments
wére of no “mean order. He rowed well, played a
splendid game of tennis, had ‘done some remarkably
good things on the track, and was a brilliant but ex-
tremely erratic football player.
As a result, he had been petted and praised and
slapped on the back until it was small wonder that he
came to tegatd himself as something very*closeé to
To have.been outplayed on the gridiron
by a fellow like Baxter, slow, taciturn, and’ unorna-

mental to a degree, was bad enough; but to have been
actually knocked out in less than three minutes of fight-
ing, to have been beaten so flagrantly in an accomplish-
ment upon which he had always prided himself by a
“man upon whom he looked down and sneered at; was
almost more than he could bear. |

“Suddenly, as he sat there thinking, there came a
Rose lifted his head impatiently, and the scowl on
“his handsome face deepened. |
he called sharply,

WEEKLY.

up and, striding across the room, turned the key back
with a snap, yanking
“Oh, it’s you, is it? “Come in.”
He stepped aside as he spoke, and a heavy, thick-set
fellow of about twenty-three entered, followed closely:
by a slim, narrow-shouldered, indecisive-looking youth |

the door ‘open.
he growled.

some two years his junior.

The older fellow calmly appropriated the chair Rose
had just vacated, and looked up at the latter with ar
grin.

“Can't say you look very amiable to-night, old
crossing his legs comfortably.
“Sorry I didn’t bring some nails withme. From your
epee icp L should: judge you'd enjoy eating a few.”

99
man,’ he remarked,

“You know what you can do if you don’t like it,” es

snapped Rose, dropping down in another chair. |
Grouchy, aren’t you?” commented the thick-~ —
“Still thinking about the licking you got?””

“Gee!
set’ fellow.

Morgan Grath had one of those peculiar natures,

more common that one generally supposes, which seem
to find dn extraordinary enjoyment in the unhappiness !
of others.
man flunk an examination, get a calldown from a foot-
ball or baseball coach, or suffer humiliation in anys
form.

He had chuckled with joy that afternoon when ces
had been ordered off the team and Baxter put in his.
place. It appealed to his risibilities to a more than
ordinary degree, for he had always been more or less
popularity and suc
cess at various forms of athletics; and, having been |
turned down by Buckhart at the opening of the season
himself, he was rejoiced beyond measure at another’ 5
downfall, He was not a witness to the surprising.
dénouement after the game, when Rose met with such.
a crushing defeat at the hands of Baxter ; but others -
were quick to tell him of it, causing ‘him to hurry
around to the wealthy New Yorker’s rooms to verify
the good news

His jeering Reena: had quite the effect he intended
in drawing an outburst of anger from the frenzie
man, |

“Look here, Grath,

jealous of the handsome youth’s

” he snapped, “if that’s all you
can think of to tal about, you can make tracks right :
away! I’m sick and tired of the spe! z

 

Nothing delighted him more than to see a
SAT ee

Fred Maitland hated scenes of any description. Ar-
guments did not appeal to him as desirable. Being
anxious to stand well with, everybody, he found the
mental agility necessary to an apparent agreement with
two contending parties decidedly fatiguing.

. It was his policy always to agree with every one on
any topic which might arise. This, and an inexhaust-
ible fund of flattery, dexterously applied, carried him
along very comfortably, and were the simple means of
bringing in many dinners, theatres, treats of various
description, and not a few loans, large and small; for
Maitland was of that not altogether attractive class of
men who take ‘all and give nothing. Occasionally a
rude fellow of the baser sort would call him plainly a
sponge, which probably filled the bill quite perfectly ;
_ but his sponging was very dexterously done, usually
_ being glossed over by a decided talent for cards and
billiards, and an inexhaustible fund of parlor tricks
which made him tolerated, if not liked, among the
larger part of his acquaintance at New Haven.

Personally he was good-looking in a weak sort of
way, though his nose was too large and his chin notic-
_ able by its absence. His dress was fastidious, his man-

“ner good, and he could always be counted on to get
along well with anybody under the sun.

_At the present moment he was particularly anx-
ious, for obvious reasons, not to have a falling out with
Rudolph Rose, and he, therefore, made haste to change
the subject.

“Great discussion about the new rules at dinner to-
night,” he remarked, with an amiable smile. “Some of
the fellows pretty near came to blows as to whether

they were an improvement or not.”

“What do you think about them, Freddy?’ Grath
inquired maliciously.

Maitland shrugged his shoulders.

“Oh, dear me, I don’t know enough about the game
to-have any opinion at all just yet,” he returned dis-
creetly. “Of course, I enjoy watching football—noth-
ing better. But, as for the new rules—well, in some
ways they seem to be an improvement, and again
they’re not.”
“Well, I think they’re all rot,” declared Grath em-

_ phatically. “No more flying tackles! No more mass
plays! Why, the fellow with weight and muscle won’t

tand any more show than the little runts.”
_ “No, they’ll want brains, not weight,”
sarcastically.
sat?”

- Grath’s face darkened.

Rose put in
“That sort of knocks you out, doesn’t

“Well, I’m not the only one,”

he returned signifi-

WEEKLY. 3

cantly. “So far, I’ve escaped being knocked out by
anybody's fist.” ~

“Dear -me!’’ fluttered Maitland, scenting the im-
minent explosion and anxious to avert it. “What will
Buckhart do? He’s the heaviest man on the team,
isn’t Re?”

“He'll stay right where he is, you idiot!” snapped
Grath. “Did you think he was going to resign? He
and Dick Merriwell are fixtures on the team.”

At the mention of Merriwell’s name, something
seemed to occur to the heavy, thick-set fellow. He
glanced at Rose maliciously, and a slow smile spread
over his rather unattractive face.

“Speaking of Merriwell,’ he said the next instant,
“IT suppose you know that you have him to thank for
your licking to-night?”

Rudolph Rose darted a swift glance at him.

“What do you mean by that?” he asked shortly.

“Just what I say,” Grath returned, with relish.
“He’s the one who taught Teddy Baxter to box.”

\

CHAPTER If
THENTEMP TER:

An expression of incredulous amazement flashed
into the handsome fellow’s face, and for a moment he
did not seem able to believe his senses.

“Ts that straight?” he asked slowly.

Grath nodded.

“You bet it is!” he said quickly. “I had it from
Fitzgerald, and -he ought to know. Merriwell’s had
Baxter up in his rooms every night this week giving
him points.” .

“Rot!” exclaimed Rose. “You can tell me that fool
could learn enone about sparring in a week’s time to
knock me out.”

“Oh, he took lessons this summer, I believe,’ Grath
answered; “but it was Merriwell’s coaching that did
the business. You know he's a perfect wonder with
his fists.”’

Generally niggardly EiGiigh with his praise, Grath
never hesitated to boost any one to the skies if, by so
doing, he could ‘put a thorn in the flesh of me
else. <

Rudolph Rose brought his teeth together wih a
click and his eyes narrowed.

“Merriwell!”’ he muttered angrily.
hess had he got, butting into my affairs? ,

He sprang up from his chair and began pacing the |

eat busi-

 
4 FIP Or
floor’ his brows drawn down into @ scowl. Morgan
Grath watched him with an expression of malicious
satisfaction.

“Maybe he was getting a little jealous of your popu-
larity, and all that,” he suggested. “Perhaps he
thought that would be a good way to take you down
a peg.”

Rose did not answer. He had always disliked Dick
-Merriwell on general principles. Though he would
have scouted the suggestion and laughed it to scorn
had any one suggested it, he was really not a little jeal-
ous of the senior’s widespread popularity and the
-amazing record he had made in all branches of ath-
letics. For Rudolph Rose was a fellow to whom the
idea of taking second place was intolerable; he wanted
to be first in everything he undertook.

He had consequently never made any attempt to
know Merriwell well. He had even affected to sneer
at Dick’s reputation as something which had come
about more by chance than any real ability. But deep
down in his heart he knew this to be untrué. He knew,
also, that Merriwell was not at all the sort of fellow to
harbor petty jealousy, and that it would be absolutely
impossible for him to undertake such means of getting
even with another man as Grath had just suggested.

But a fellow of Rudolph Rose’s disposition can usu-
ally’ bring himself to believe whatever suits his pur-
pose, especially in the condition of mind which he had
reached. It was gratifying to his self-respect to give
the credit of his downfall to the machinations of a
powerful upper classman. Far less humiliating, in-
deed, than to feel that he had been bested by the un-
aided efforts of a fellow like Baxter whom he had al-
ways despised, and, the more he thought over the mat-
ter, the more he came actually to reg rard his point of
view the right one. Once that was settled in his mind
he began to consider plans for retaliation,

~ With quick-witted intuition, Morgan _ Grath pet-
ceived the struggle which was going on in the hand-
some sophomore’s mind, and kept silent. Nothing
would have pleased him better than to set Rose against
- Merriwell. He disliked the latter with an intensity
which was only exceeded by his hatred of Brad Buck-

hart, whom he considered responsible for his failure to
make the varsity that fall.

Grath was a player of no mean order, but he pos-
sessed two bad faults which have proved the undoing
of many a better man, He had a case of abnormally
swelled head, and his hot peniper was absolutely, with-

1

2 When a man pegs to think that a is indispensable

\

WEEKLY.

and cannot be gotten along without, his usefulness is
usually at an end. No human being has ever existed
whose place could not be adequately filled by scme one
else, but it is difficult to convince some people of this
fact.

It is an almost equally widespread truth that a man
without self-control, especially if he be hot-tempered,
is quite as useless. This is perhaps more strictly the
case in football, baseball, and games of a like nature,
though it can be truthfully said of almost every walk
of life. A man may be ever so brilliant a performer,
may rise almost to heights of genius, but without self-
control he is erratic, undependable, useless.

Of stich a type was Morgan Grath. He had done
some extraordinary feats on the gridiron. The season.

before he had been in several games, but some time or

other, as sure as fate, he could be counted on to loose
his temper, and, with equal certainty, he indulged in a _
little slugging or something equally unsportsmanlike,
as a result of which he would be ruled off the field and
his team penalized.

Buckhart had stood about all of that sort of thing
that he was willing to;.and, while he was in authority, |
he had vowed and declared that, no matter what show-
ing Grath might make at pra actice, he was not going to
give him another chance to disgrace the team. ;

Consequently, the latter hated Buckhart with all his
heart and soul, hated Fullerton, the coach, with almost ~
equal intensity, and disliked Merriwell from general
principles and because he was Buckhart’s chum. He
let\pass no opportunity to give vent to biting slurs and

innuendos against their abilities as players, or even ;
their characters as men; and it was not to be wondered

at that he looked forw ard with joy to the possibility of
embroiling Rudolph Rose with one of them.

Five minutes passed in perfect silence, during which
Grath leaned comfortal bly back in his chair watching
Rose with eager interest, while Fred Maitland exhib-
ited signs of nervousness and unrest. At length the
heavy, thick-set fellow pulled out a ciparette case anc
selecting a cigarette with care, struck a match and
lit it.

his head ‘abruptly

“Can't,” he said quickly.

Then a slow flush stained his face as he remembered
that he was no longer under the training ple

Grath laughed raucously.

“What's to prevent?” he grinned tnaliciously

Pee re e not on ye peace wy more, meats to Me

 
SE ce ee rag ee

TIP TOP
wéll—unless, of course, you intend to step back to the
scrub. Perhaps, if you're very good, they'll let you
do that.”

Rose stepped forward and snatched a cigarette from
the silver case. His face was furious with passion and
his eyes flashed.

“Scrub! he snarled. “I think I see myself doing
that! If you see me asking any favors of Merriwell,
just let me know!”

With fingers which trembled a

little, he struck a

match, and, lighting the cigarette, began to puff furi-'

ously.

Grath watched him with a a, of furtive interest.
“That makes another score I’ve got to settle,”
handsome fellow went on more quietly. “And it’s a
big one, too. I think before many days have passed
that Dick saarsespe will be sorry he ever put a finger

into my pie.” ;
“That’s the way to talk,” Grath returned approv-
ingly. “I never thought you were a chap who would
lay down and let anybody walk over you. Have you
thought of anything yet?”
Rose hesitated.

“Well, not exactly,” he confessed; “but I'll dope out
a scheme before I sleep to- night. aay re plenty of
~ ways of getting even with a man.’

the

Grath looked thoughtfully at the opposite wall,

“With most men—yes,” he said slowly ; “but Merri-
well’s a little different from the majority. You'll have
to go slow with him, You can’t pick a scrap with
him, for instance, or you’d be pounded all over the

place.”

_ Oh, I don’t know about that,” Rose retorted. “T’ve

_ been told that his reputation as a scrapper is very much
e exaggerated. You'd better believe that Baxter

wouldn’t have been able to do what he did to-day if I

hadn't been crazy mad and taken by surprise. With

Merriwell I should be on my guard, and it strikes

me I ought to be able to handi¢ him. I was Kid Ma-

f loney’s best pupil, you know.’

- “Don’t you believe it,” Grath said quickly. “You
puldn’t stand up’ for a minute against Merriwell.
here’s no love lost between us, but I know he can

fight. No, you'll have to do it some other way.”

There was another short pause, and then Grath shot.

sudden, keen glance at Rose. ‘ai °
_ “Why don’t you go out for practice with the scrub
morrow?” = asked ae

WEEKLY. 5

in Morgan Grath’s eyes, he did not give vent to it.
There was evidently some purpose in the question.

“What do you mean by that?” Rose asked shortly.

Grath hesitated and looked swiftly at the listening
Maitland, who seemed to be awaiting the reply with
more than ordinary interest.

“Just come over here for a minute and I'll tell you,”
he rejoined, rising to his feet.

He led the way to the other side of the room, and
Rose followed slowly, a look of perplexity on his hand-
some face.

Maitland watched them with an expression of dis-
appointment. It had been a deadly dull evening for
him, and he hoped to enliven it by acquiring some in-
teresting information which might even be of service
to him later on, but not a word of the whispered con-
versation reached:his strained ears.

He could only guess, from the view he had of Ru-
dolph Rose’s expressive face, that Grath’s suggestions,
whatever they were, did not meet with his unqualified
approval. It needed, in fact, some ten minutes of per-
suasive argument to win the sophomore to a grudging
consent. For, as they turned back toward the table,
Maitland heard him say in a noncommital way:

“Well, if I cans think of anything better to- “hight,
I might try it.’

“You'd better consider it,’ Grath returned lightly.
“I don’t think it could be improved on. Perfectly
safe, you know, which is always an advantage.”

Rose grunted an unintelligible something, and, sens-

‘ing the fact that further argument would be wasted,

Grath picked up his hat.

“Well, Fred, we may as well be going,”
marked. “It must be rather late.”

Maitland arose with alacrity. Never had he spent
so dull an evening, and he was eager to be gone. Bid- |
ding Rose good night, he hastened out into the hall,
but not too quickly to hear Grath say in a low, per-
suasive tone:

“You can’t do better, old fellow.

he re-

I shall expect to —
see you on the field Monday afternoon.” te

Rose’s response was inaudible, the door closed, and
Maitland was forced to depart with his mind in a dis-
tinctly unpleasant state of ungratified curiosity

CHAPTER III,
ON THE FIELD.

The first real exhibition of the effect of the new
football rules, as exemplified by the game with Syra-
cuse on comers was the cause of widespread discus-

»

 
6 TIP TOP

sion, controversy, and argument throughout the
campus and college buildings.

Everybody had’something to say about the work of
the Rules Committee. Fellows who scarcely ever paid
any attention to the sport and contented themselves
with watching perhaps a couple of games every year,
were loudest in their condemnation of the changes
which were acknowledged to be the most radical in
years, and which practically revolutionized the game.

Among the players themselves and men who took a
serious interest in the sport, opinions were pretty
evenly divided. Some felt that the game had been
made more interesting to spectators as well as to the
participants themselves, that the new rules called for
more brain work as opposed to mere brawn and bulk,
and that unquestionably the chances of serious acci-
dents were reduced to a minimum.

Others, on the contrary, contended that the interest
was lessened, with the abolishing of the more spectacu-
lar features, such as mass plays and flying tackles, and
declared that if a fellow lacked the stamina to stand
the old manner of playing, he could have stayed out
of it.

Assembled on the field the following Monday after-
noon, a group of players weresplunged into the never
ending discussion. Some one had asked Dick Merri-
well for his opinion of the value of the changes, and
he was giving it, simply and concisely.

“I think, on the whole, it’s a change for the better,”
he said. “It makes the game more scientific, and I
think that anything which brings about the substitution
of brains for brute force is to be welcomed.”

“But does it do that?” objected Phil Keran, captain
of the scrub team. “T’ll admit that the fellow, who car-
ries the ball has got to have more brains, all right, and
speed—especially speed; for the simple reason that
he has to depend on himself much more than he did
under the old rules. But doesn’t this new ruling lessen
‘the chances for good team work?”

Dick shook his head good-naturedly.

) “I don’t«see how,” he returned quietly. “There'll
_be no more of those solid rushes through the line, when
the man with the ball is whirled through centre by the

whole brute force of the team; but it doesn’t neces-
sarily follow that organized team work will be done

_ away with, or even reduced. You simply get a freer,
more open game, and one whichAvill be infinitely more

interesting to the people on the stands. And to my
mind it will be a better game to play. Every fellow

ze will have more chance for individual effort. It will
| = played more widely, too, since fellows of moderate

‘ kle in his eye.

WEEKLY.

size and build will now be as valuable as were formally
those of tremendous strength and bulk.”

“In other words,” chirped Eric Fitzgerald,
though not a player, frequently came out to watch the
practice, “I shall have just as good a chance on the
gridiron as our bucking broncho from the plains of
Texas.”

He dodged to avoid a sweep of Buckhart’s arm, and
retired, grinning, to a safe distance.

‘“Theoretically—yes,’ Dick answered, with a twin-
“But [Pm afraid that your chronic dis-
inclination for work may prove something of a handi-
cap to you, Fitz.”

“Et tu Brute?” exclaimed the slim chap with mock
sadness. “I didn’t think you'd go back on me, Dick.
Why, I work like a horse, sometimes. The trouble
with football and baseball and such things is that my
sensitive nature rebells against dictation. When a
certain play is to be made I imstantly see the one and
only way by which it should be done. But am I al-
lowed to do it that way? Never! Some little runt
with not half my intelligence yells out a lot of perfectly
idiotic numbers, which I am expected to take the trou-
ble to translate. By the time that is done the play had
generally progressed to a point when my laborious
translation is quite useless. I am picked up and tossed —
about by some great hulk of a giant, whose size, as you
so aptly put it, Richard, is his only recommendation,
thrown here and there like a bag of oats; and more
often than not the members of both teams take a
vicious delight in leaping on my person with both feet
and everything else they possess, or strive to build —

who,

themselves up in a pyramid of Ghizeh, with me as the —

corner: stone. No, Richard, I Seay say that the —
humor of the game appeals to me.’ a
The little fellow stopped abruptly, and, paying no at-
tention to the shouts of laughter which greeted the nar-
ration of his troubles on the gridiron, he shaded his —
eyes with his hand and gazed keenly across the field
toward the athletic house. :
“Do my eyes deceive me?” -he inquired presently,
“or am I more daffy than usual to-day? Surely that is
not ae handsome Adonis, Rudie, coming in this dire

tion.”

There was a general turning of heads and craning
of necks on the part of the other men. ive

the Texan declared, hes

{??

“By thunder, it sure is!
next instant. :

” growled Keran. “Does
he think he’s going to be put back on the team ae
Saturday?”

“He’s got a nerve, all right,

 
aes

———

Sens eT. Te

  

ver, JOP

     

Hildebrand remarked.
He isn’t that

“Looks that way, doesn’t it?”
7} “It can’t be he’s going back on the scrub.
kind.”

But by this time Rudolph Rose was within earshot,
and the comments ceased, though curiosity was ex-
pressed on more than one face.

The sophomore approached slowly with hig usual
lithe, unconscious grace and an affectation of nonchal-

ance which deceived almost every one. His face was

|} rather serious and perhaps a little drawn about the
4 eyes, but his manner was not in the least embarrassed.
* Reaching the group, he nodded to several of the fel-
Rs Eo: dows, among whom was Merriwell, rather to the lat-
oR ~ ter’s surprise, and stopped in front of Buckhart.

oe “I suppose you didn’t expect me out to-day?’ he re-

marked carelessly, his hands resting lightly on his hips.
“Can't say I did,” the Texan returned briefly. “You
_ don’t expect to go back on the team, do you?”

There was, perhaps, a little more emphasis in his
voice than he had intended; for, while Brad. Buckhart
would never knowingly say anything to hurt a man, he
was downright and straightforward, and somewhat
lacking in tact, and often things slipped out uncon-

 sciously as in the present instance.

_ A faint: color crept into the handsome: fellow’s
_ tanned cheeks and his eyelids narrowed a little, but he
quickly recovered himself.

“Oh, dear/ no,” he returned, with a touch of sar-
-casm,in his tone. “That never occurred to me; but I
thought perhaps there might be an opening on the
_ serub.”

“The scrub!’ Buckhart exclaimed, in astonishment.
“You want to go back on the scrub?”

Rose nodded, and a curious smile curved the cor-
ners of his mouth.

“Exactly,” he said cooly. ‘Perhaps some day I may
get another chance for the varsity... Anyhow, I can’t
| give up football altogether just because I’ve been
‘ _ thrown off the regular eleven.”

| “It took Buckhart a moment to recover from his sur-
_ prise, but, having done so, there was not the slightest
hesitation in his manner.

 

  

  

 
 

_ “Why, sure thing, Rose,” he said heartily. “I'll be

a heap glad to have you there, and, as you say, that’s

better than no football at all. You can just take Bax-

ao ter’s place at left tackle. We haven't filled that yet.”
“Thanks,” returned Rose.

a He turned aw rey that same odd smile lingering on

  

 
 

WEEKLY. 7

*““What do you think of that, pard?” he asked, in a
“Don’t seem like Rose to eat humble pie
so nicely. Do you think he’s up to any tricks?”
Merriwell considered for a moment in silence.
“Why, I don’t see what harm he could do,” he re-
turned presently. ‘‘He’s a good man and will be very
I don’t believe there’s anything
out of the way in his coming back like this. He’s fond
f football, and this is his only chance of playing.”
Buckhart shrugged his shoulders a bit. Evidently

low tone.

useful on the scrub.

he was not quite convinced. .
“I opine it won’t do any harm to keep my eye
peeled, just the same,’ he muttered, as he turned away.
‘He's a gent I wouldn’t trust a thundering ways, from
all I’ve heard of him,’

CHAPTER IV.
ROSE RETURNS TO THE SCRUB.

The practice that day was one of the 1 nea which
the members of the two elevens had: yet undergone.
The game with Syracuse had shown Buckhart and
Fullerton many of the weak points of the team, which
they at once set about to remedy, and it meant a good
deal of downright hard work.

It was noticeable that Rudolph Rose was putting up
a remarkably good game. Merriwell kept an eye on
him throughout the afternoon, more from curiosity

than anything else, and was surprised and pleased’ to.

see that the good-looking sophomore seemed to have
turned over a néw leaf. He was quiet, steady, and
obeyed orders implicitly without any of the objections

and questionings which usually characterized his play- -

ing. He was very palpably keeping a good hold. on
his temper, for not once were the men favored with
one of his customary outbursts.

To be sure, he made a point of coldly ignoring Ted-

dy Baxter, who played opposite him, but that was no
considering the humiliation he

more than natural,
had suffered two days before at the hands of his class-
mate. \

Dick was not a little pleased at what he saw.» He

had watched Rose more or less continuously ever since

the middle of his freshman year when he had made

such a good showing on the track, and had noticed with
It always seemed to —
him a pity when a fellow failed to make the best of |
his talents and ability, and Rose was certainly a man —
who could do splendid things if he poly. Fy realized what F

regret his pronounced failings.

        
   
  
 
  
   
  
  
  
  
  
 
 
   
   
  
  
  
  
    
     
       
     
         
       
       
   
   
   
   
      
     
    
     
   
       
     
 
    
       
     
       
     
 
   
  
 

TIP TOP

a handicap his lack of self-control was to any real
measure of success.

But to-day there was nothing whatever in his be-
havior with which the most captious could find fault,
and Dick felt that if he kept this up there was no ques-
tion but what he would be ultimately restored to the
varsity, on which there were a couple of men not en-
tirely satisfactory, but who had been accepted for
lack of better material.

He was not the only one to notice the improvement.
Several others, after the game, commented on it with
more or less skepticism.

“It’s a great sight too good to last,” remarked Jack
Kenny, the quarter back. ‘Rose isn’t a fellow who
can get along without shooting off his face once in a
while.”

“Maybe he thinks that’s the only way to get back
on the team,”’ put in Bud Baulsir, one of the half backs,
whose baptismal name had been lost in the myths of
tradition.

“What do you think of him, Keran?”’
Hildebrand.

The captain of the scrub hesitated a moment.

Why, he was all right,’’ he admitted a little grudg-
ingly. “There’s no love lost between us, but I will say
I never saw him do better. If he keeps it up I shan’t
want to let him go.”

“Any of you fellers heard how Don is coming on?”
drawled Samp Elwell as they started toward the ath-
letic house.

“T saw him yesterday for a few minutes,” Merri-
well answered. ‘“‘Went over to inquire without the
least idea of getting a glimpse of him, but when he
found I was there he ‘wanted me to come up. Of
course he looks beastly thin and pale, but he’s bright
as a button and crazy to uear all about the game Satur-
day. The doctor Says it’s only a question now of feed-
_ing him up on strengthening things. The danger of a
relapse is quite past.”

“Rotten hard luck his being mnt ne out that way
just at the beginning of the season,’ commented

Kenny.

inquired Blair

}

“Tt sure was,” Buckhart said emphatically. ‘“And
‘he can’t show up a minute too soon for this child. You
hear me talk! Running the team isn’t the easy cinch
some gents seem to think it, and I reckon I shall be
tickled to death to give up the job.”

Don Tempest, thé captain of the eleven, had indeed
had pretty hard luck. Returning to New Haven a
couple of days before the opening of college, full of
vim and enthusiasm and eager to commence the sea-

son’s practice, he had been taken dangerously ill within
twenty-four hours, and since that time had lain help-
lessly in bed.

It being necessary to elect a temporary captain,
Buckhart, despite his protestations, had been unani-
mously chosen for that position, and upon him had
devolved the arduous and somewhat unpleasant duty
of making up the eleven.

He had done his best without grumbling, but, hav-
ing been captain for one season, he felt that it was up
to some one else to fill that position this year; and he
therefore looked forward with much eagerness to the
time when he could step out and give over the helm
to Tempest.

Teddy Baxter took no part in the discussion, though
he listened with no little interest to what the others

said. He had noticed with perhaps more astonishment

than any of the rest, the apparent transformation of
Rudolph Rose, and wondered at it.

Silent as he, was at all times, Baxter was far from
being slow witted, and somehow he had a feeling which
was almost a conviction, that his good-looking class-
mate had returned so humbly to the scrub with a fixed
purpose in mind, and he thought he could guess what

that purpose was.

Knowing Rose as well as he did, Teddy felt sure
that he was not the sort easily to forgive an injury, or
what he might consider as such; and the big, silent
soph had been momentarily expecting some sort of re-
taliation for the humiliation which had been inflicted
upon him after the game on Saturday.

When Rose took his place opposite him in the line,
Baxter was instantly on his guard, and when nothing

happened at all, he was decidedly puzzled. He had ex- — Boa

pected all kinds of subtle taunts and sneers, if not «
actual fouls, and here was his opponent as s mild as a
lamb. . a

He could not, understand it, but the idea still stack ‘
in his mind that Rose must have some motive which —
was not apparent for doing what he did, and he re- —
solved to keep his eyes openfJand not be caught op
ping.

Meanwhile, the object of all this speculation had
hurried over to the athletic house, stripped and got
under a shower with much more than his usual alacrity. |
He made such good time, in fact, that he emerged, e
clothed in his street togs, before the men who had lin- bis
gered on the field reached the door. |

‘Atthe gate Morgan Grath was waiting for him, atid:
together they left the field and walked tow ard the car
track. foe

 
SS bere SORBET CTS fa EAE

   

ab ee

  

— 6 “Well, how did it 'work?”: inquired Grath curiously.
Rudolph Rose’s face flushed, and he frowned.

“Well enough,” he returned shortly; “but I tell you
one thing, Grath, I can’t keep up this racket very long.
7). I never had such a hard job in my life as I did this
afternoon to keep a hold on myself. Great Scott,
man! You don’t realize what it means to play oppo-
site that dub, Baxter, without saying a word, or lifting
afinger. I’d have given a hundred dollars to hand him
a good poke in the face, and all the time I had to grin
and look pleasant like a kid having his picture taken.”’

A gleam of satisfaction flashed into Morgan Grath’s
face and was gone.

“It's only for a little while,” he soothed. “It was
the only way to get back on the team. Are you sure
nobody suspected that you had a reason for coming
back?”

Rose stepped out and signaled the approaching car.
When it stopped, the two fellows stepped. onto the

z= | platform, and, walking through, found seats at the
front end where they could talk undisturbed.

“T hayen’t an idea,’ the sophomore answered, as he
paid the fares. “They must have thought it pretty
queer, of course. Anybody who knows me at all would
realize that it isn’t the kind of thing I’d be likely to do.
Thunder! I'd lie down and die before I’d play on
their rotten scrub if I didn’t have to.”

“I’m blamed ‘glad you didn’t show how you really
felt, then,” Grath said, in alow tone. “If they thought
you were up to any monkeyshines, some one would
keep an eye on you all the time, and you might not be

_ able to work the stunt for getting square with Merri-
well.”

__ “When are you going to take me to see this guy of
yours?” Rose asked impatiently. ;

. His companion darted a quick look about the car.

| “To-night,” he whispered. “Come around to my
- rooms right after, supper, and we'll slip over without
any delay.”

 

CHAPTER V.
THE HOUSE BY THE WHARVES.

Down near the water front of New Haven, tucked

 
 

‘and dwarfed it into insignificance, was an old, tum-
bledown, tottering relic of the eighteenth century.
How it had stood so long was a problem, for it looked

  

 

money, and P. Hoogan had profited thereby and was

s if the slightest touch would send it crashing to the

  

     

WEEKLY. 9

    
   
   
  
  
  
   
  
  
  
   
   
  
  
  
  
  
   
   
   
   
   

ground, an indistinguishable heap of worm-eaten
boards, rotting Shingles, and crumbling bricks. Per-
haps its more prosperous neighbors had taken pity
on it and supported with their stalwart walls what they
could scarcely help but look down upon with con-
Perhaps, like some very old people, it had
simply gone on existing from year to year without
any apparent reason or perceptible change. The
storms of each winter might add the faintest touch of
gray to its ancient front, each succeeding spring might
deepen the soft, velvety coating of moss upon the
mouldering roof, but it was all done so delicately, so
gradually, that the daily passer-by noticed no change
at all. It was only those returning after an absence of
many years who realized that the ancient landmark
was growing old.

3ut though almost unhabitable, the place was still
very much inhabited. In some bygone day the front
of the lower floor had been roughly modernized, and
the dingy, smeared windows were supposed to give
light to the saloon of P. Hoogan, whose name, done
in irregular letters of dirty gray, was streaked across
the glass; while underneath them were three objects
which looked like piebald oranges, and the herne:

“Pool, 1 Cent a Cue.”

The location was convenient to the wharves, and the
longshoremen flocked there in numbers at certain
times. They never came away without leaving be- is
hind a considerable portion of their hard-earned |

.tempt.

         
       
 

supposed to have laid up a very tidy little fortune.

He lived on the floor above the saloon in company
with his solitary bartender, a wizened, one-legged man
of fifty odd, who had more than once beer known to
expeditiously remove his wooden leg and use it with
great effect over the head of some particularly obstrep-
erous patron. The top floor was let étit in rooms to
individuals who liked the location and whose pockets
were able to meet the very moderate rental demanded.
by Mr. Hoogan—always in advance.

It had been dark for considerably more than an hour
when two students, wearing long coats and soft felt
hats, came into the street, and, passing the shuttered
front of one of the warehouses, hesitated before the
unprepossessing exterior of the saloon.

“Great Scott, Grath!” one of them exclaimed.
“What a perfectly beastly hole!” -

Morgan Grath chuckled.

-“Tsn’t a very pretty place, I’ll admit, Rudie,”
turned.

     
       
     
   
         
         
       
      
     
       
   
 
 
 

he re-

 
 
    

Rudolph Rose glanced Alubiousfy from the dimly
 

ae ee

lighted windows of the saloon to the sepulchral dark-
ness of the upper floors.

“Are you sure this is the place?” he asked, with
wrinkled brows. ‘‘Don’t look as if there was any one
at home upstairs.’’

_ “Very likely he’s spending the evening at Hoo-
gan’s,” Grath answered. “T’ll just take a look in and
see.”

He stepped forward, opened the door a trifle, and
stuck his head through the crack. The reek of stale
cooking and cheap liquor struck his nostrils, and the

dingy, low-ceiled room was so thick with smoke that
it was hard to distinguish the faces of the dozen men
who sat about the wall or lounged against the bar, and
he was finally obliged to step inside.

“Hello, Pete,” he said, as he caught sight of the pro-
prietor. “Bill here?” |

- Hoogan nodded.

“Yep,\ he returned laconically. “In back there.”

He jerked his thumb toward a little cubbyhole of a
room at. the back of the saloon which did duty as a
private room. es,

Grath elevated his eyebrows.

“Soaked?” he inquired.

“No worse’n usual,” Hoogan said,
“Wanter see him?” )

“Yes, I would like to.”

Without the least apparent effort, and scarcely mov-
ing a muscle of his face, Hoogan let out a roar which
shook the glasses on the shelves.

“B-ill! Come out here! Gent to see yer!’

There was-a moment’s silence. Then came the
sound of a chair being moved, a slouching ‘step across
the floor, and presently the cloud of smoke was pierced
by the figure of a man appearing from the inner room.

“What the deuce are you yelling about?” he snapped
as he came up to the bar. “T ain’t deaf.”

He was tall—very tall, with powerful limbs and an

amazing breadth of shoulder. But the great shoul-
ders were stooped and there was about him that un-
pleasant sense of flabbiness—the look of having gone
to seed—w hich generally characterizes an athlete who
has. failed to keep himself in condition. Strangely

with a grin.

enough, his face bore distinct evidencts of good looks,

even of a certain refinement, which had long since
been coarsened and almost obliterated by bad habits.
Though he lookecto be well on the way to fifty, Bill
Kollock could not, in reality, have been more than thir-
ty-six or seven.
is Pete Hoogan paid not ‘the slightest attention to the
fellow’ 8 ill humor.

WEEKLY.

“Gent to see you,’ he repeated, in exactly the same
tone he had used at' first.

Then Kallock perceived Grath for the first time, and,
bending over a little, peered at him from under beetling
brows.

“Oh, it’s you, is it?” he said shortly. ‘‘What’s up?”

“Nothing special,’ returned Grath easily. “I want
to have a little talk with you, that’s all.”

“Well, you can start in any time you like,”
fellow said, somewhat testily. “I’m waiting.”

‘Can’t you come up to your room for a few min-
utes?” Grath inquired, with apparent carelessness.

At the same time he bestowed a significant wink
upon the hulking giant.

Apparently Kollock was not too far gone to see it,
for, after a moment’s hesitation, he turned toward the
door. |

“All right, come on,” he said shortly.

As they reached the pavement, Rose stepped for-
ward quickly.

the big

“It’s a, wonder you wouldn’t stay all night,’ he

”?

snapped impatiently. ‘“J———
Grath nudged him sharply. ds
“This is Bill Kollock, Rudie,” he said significantly.
“No doubt you've heard of him before.”
Rose glanced at the big fellow swiftly, hesitated an
instant, and then slowly extended his hand.
“Glad to meet you,” he said. “Of course, I’ve heard
of you often.” ;

Kollock took the Yale man’s

“Proud to know you,” he returned. ‘

Then he turned toward the dark pocket of a hall- :

way to oy right of the saloon.

“T s'pose you fellows is here on business, so we
ce as well get at it,” he remarked, as he fumbled on-
the floor just inside the door,

The next moment he lit a stump of candle atiiole in
the neck of an empty bottle and started up the creak-

ing, rickety stairs, with the two Yale men close be-

hind. . , 1

The stairs were quite destitute of carpet, the wooden ius
treads being worn down into deep hollows by the j
countless feet which had gone before, the spindles of
the banister were nearly all missing and the slender —

rail hung suspended in the air, Heaven knows how.

Hyaty scrap of bape, had oe since vanished aren i *eahg

hand in his great fist
and squeezed it until Rose winced.

a

= tandhtmsan i

 
 
   
  
  

    

peter AEP

Renan 32 >

_ them to enter.

CAR EASES OS Re

dirty hands had pressed as their owners climbed up-
ward.

Rudolph Rose shuddered slightly and his lip curled.
Naturally of a fastidious nature, he hated filth and
dirt instinctively, but there was a curious feeling in his
heart which was quite apart from his dislike of the
sordid surroundings. It was almost a feeling of shame
brought about by a realization of his errand here. He
felt as if his mind—perhaps his soul—was polluted by
any association such as he would have with the hulking
giant ahead of him; and once he even found himself
wondering whether it was too late to back out—to give
it up and seek some other means of revenge.

He hated the idea of having anything at all to-do
with such a man as he knew Bill Kollock to be. Why
had he ever allowed himself to be persuaded by Mor-
gan Grath? He must have been a perfect fool to al-
low himself to think of it for a moment.

_Presently, as they reached the head of the stairs and
turned sharply down the dark, narrow hall, the reac-
tion came.

After all, what did it matter so long as he accom-
plished his purpose? It did not follow that because he
obtained information from this Kollock—ififormation
for which he would pay well—that he was giving the
fellow any hold on himself: He need never see him
again if he did not choose—and he was, most em-
phatically, not at all likely to do that.

Turning another corner, they started up the rickety
steps toward the third floor, and, happening to glance

upward, ‘Rose gave a slight start as his eyes fell upon

the strange shadow which the flickering candle cast
upon the mottled wall. It was a horribly grotesque

likeness of Kollock himself, his great shoulders bent

over as he climbed, his close-cropped head outlined dis-
tinctly, with one long arm hanging straight down.

Everything was exaggerated, of course, but to

Rose’s sensitiye mind, the hulking, quivering bulk of
black upon the wall looked like a great gorilla creep-
ing stealthily upon his unconscious victim, and a curi-
ous cold chill flickered down his spine. .
Then they reached the top of the stairs, the shadow
vanished, and, shoving open a door, Kollock motioned

 

CHAPTER VI.
T .W-O2-P TCT URES.

2 The room in which Rose found himself seemed to

eile TOP

 

_ friend here is anxious to learn one hold, or throw, or

         
  
  
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
  
  
   
  
   
   
   
           
         
     
    
    
    
        
         
       
   
     
       
      
        
       

WEEKLY. rL

It was square in shape and fairly large, with two
windows in the further wall which looked out at the
rear of the house. The furniture consisted of a single
iron bed which had once been painted white, bit had
long since lost all but a few vestiges of its original
enamel; a plain deal table, covered with spots of candle .
grease mingled with other darker stains; a single rick-
ety chair, and a small stove bereft of its legs and rest-
ing perilously on loose bricks.

The

walls were also bare save here and there where a pic-
ture cut from some illustrated paper had been tacked
up; and everything was streaked and stained by water -~
leaking through from the mouldering roof above.

‘Kollock set the candle down in the centre of the
table, and the flickering flame seemed only to ac-
centuate the desolate gloom of the room.

“Well, gents,’ he remarked. “Having only one.
chair, I can’t ask you both to sit down, unless one of
you takes the bed.”

Rose shuddered as he glanced at that article of fur-
niture, but Grath solved the problem effectually.

“Sit down yourself,’ he said quickly. “It won't
take long, and we’d rather stand. We've been sitting .
all evening.” 3

Without further words, Kollock dragged the totter-
ing chair up to the table and dropped into -it with a
grunt. Then he looked inquiringly at Grath,

“Well, mister, what can I do for you?” he inquired.

The Yale man hesitated for an irfstant, glanced
swiftly at Rose, and then cleared his throat. :

“You're a crackerjack wrestler, Bill,” he began, “and
know about all the tricks going, don’t you?’’\

The big fellow grinned.

“Pretty much all of ’em,” he agreed. “When i was.
in the ring there wasn’t anybody going as could lick
me. Was you thinking of taking lessons?”

“Not exactly that,’ Grath said slowly. “I—er—my

The floor was bare and indescribably filthy.

 

 

whatever you call it, which would put a man out of
business instantly.”

Kollock’s lids narrowed and a gleam of comprehen- .
sion camé into his blood-shot eyes.

“Oh, that’s the game, is it?’ he remarked. “You
want to put this man out of business for good?”

Grath nodded. i

“That’s the idea,” he said emphatically. “Isn't
there sgme way you can break an arm or leg, or some-
thing like that?”

The big fellow considered the problem for a mo-
ment in silefice.
 

 

TT FOP

he said presently; “but it takes a
profesh to do it right. I couldn’t learn you guys to
get onto the trick, but what’s the matter with throwing

“Tt can be done,”

his shoulder out of joint?”

“yhat wouldn’t be enough, would it?” Grath ob-
jected. “‘As soon as it was set, he’d be all right again.”

“That depends on what you meari by all right,”
lock said quickly. “Why don’t you tell me the whole
yarn, and then mebbe I could help you.”

Grath hesitated an instant.

“Well, suppose I wanted to fix a man so he couldn’t
play football any more this season,’ he said slowly,
“would this stunt of yours do the trick?”

The big fellow let out a raucous laugh.

“You bet it would!’’ he said emphatically, “I'll
guarantee if his shoulder is thrown out the way I show
you, he won’t be doing no hard work for a month or
six weeks.”

“But you can’t touch a fellow’s arms on the field,”
objected Rose, who had been following the conversa-
tion intently. “That's a foul, and everybody would
be on to it. With these new rules it’s harder than ever,
I want something which can be done in the regular
practice—something which would have the appearance
of an accident. You can’t knock a fellow’s shoulder
out of joint when mass plays have been cut out.”

Kollock looked at him narrowly,

“What can you do?” he demanded. “TI ain’t no foot-
ball expert, you know. Where can you get a grip on
a man—tackling, they call it, don’t they?”

Rose nodded.

“Yes, that’s it. You can’t tackle a man below the
knees or above the waist.”’

“Can you get a good grip on his knee?”
asked. | | :

The sophomore consfdered for a moment,

“Why, yes,” he said presently. ‘You might even
slip down a little below the knees without anybody’s
getting wise. lf they did see you, they might call it
a foul, but they couldn’t prove that it was intentional.”
é _ The wrestler leaned back in his chair complacently.

“Throw his kneecap out, then,” he ee:
i reat’ a trick I’ve used more than once.’

Rudolph Rose looked down on the hulking brute be-
i ice him with a kind of wonder.

~ “You’ve) done that—in a regular bout?”
slowly.
- Kollock grinned cheerfully.

“Sure,” he returned, with a sort of pride ‘in his tone.
vat s the quickest way I know to put a man down and

Ad
im sy

Kol-

Kollock

he asked

WEEKLY.

out. I'd hate to say how many purses I’ve won by
that little stunt.”

“But it’s a foul,

“Sure, but they can’t prove it on you if you're care-
ful. Trouble with me I got to using it too often, and
it was one of the reasons why they ruled me off.”’

As he listened, a feeling of astonishment, verging
close to utter unbelief, came over Rudolph Rose. At
one time this man had been the champion wrestler in
the country, had been almost a public character with
his name in the mouths of thousands, and yet here
he was telling of the dirty tricks he had practiced,
which had led to his complete dowhfall, with a com-
placency which seemed as if he were actually proud of
what he had done.

Apparently he had no moral sense at all, and Rose
was suddenly conscious of a strong feeling of aversion
and disgust for the fellow. Again he felt as if any
dealings he might have with the nian could not help
but be morally degrading, and once more he wished
that he had not come.

But, as.before, this was only momentary. After all,
what did it matter if the fellow was a thorough scoun-
drel so long as he could give him the knowledge he was
after? It was the only way he could get even with
a fellow of Merriwell’s stamp, whom it was impos-
sible ta overcome openly. Probably, having used the
trick on this one occasion, he would never need re-
course to it again.

isn’t it?’ Rose objected.

Thus reasoned Rudolph Rose, stifling the qualms of

conscience with a firm hand, ignoring everything but
the result he wanted, deliberately closing his eyes to
the downward path upon which such conduct pwould —
unquestionably set his feet. : eb
“What's your price to show me that trick?” he asked
presently, glancing at Kollock. .
The giant eyed him for an instant in’ silence.
" Pwenty- five plunks, ” he said at length.
worth it.’ |
Rose made no demur. That amount meant nothing
to him, and, taking out his bill case, he selected the —
bills and tossed them to Kollock, :
“Can you show me to-night?” he asked.
The burly fellow tucked the money carefully away
in his pocket.

“It's

“Sure,” he returned. “If you've got a rape of
hours to spare, we can get right at it.” ite

Getting up, he moved the table to one side of the

room, hunted around for another candle, which he

presently found and lit, and then, stripping off his coat ‘i
told Rose to do ihe same, — |

 
RiP SOE

eases

For the next hour and a half he proceeded with the
going over the simple movements again

instruction,
and again with amazing patience, until he was certain
that his pupil thoroughly understood the trick.

ghly

a ae nen eR

It was, of course, impossible actually to. illustrate

. the twist which was so simple but so effective; but he

went through all the motions, showing Rose exactly
where to grasp the leg, and exactly when and how to

give that sharp twist which was certain to throw the
kneecap off.
Naturally quick to seize upon a point, Rose felt at
x4 I |

the end of the lesson that he had mastered every de-

tail thoroughly and that there could be no question of
| shis ability to apply what he had learned the instant an
Be _ opportunity
7: He saw, almost from the first, that there would be
 gearcely any danger at all of detection; for the hold
was amazingly like the actual grip one would take
| when making a fair tackle, excepting that it was a
little lower. But time and time again his arms had
| © slipped down in just that way on the practice field,
and, though it might be called a foul, uld
imagine for an instant that the thing had been done
intentionally. —
“You'll do,” Kollock said after he had gone over
- the motions for about the tenth time. .“I’ll guarantee
you can pull off that trick to-morrow if you feel
Fee The:
~  Grath, who had been watching every moye with

arrived.

no one w

   
  
 
  
   

4 ~ self.

. “Well, that’s a good job done,” he remarked approy-
ingly. “I didn’t think you'd get onto it so quick,
Rudie.”

_ The handsome sophomore made no reply. As he
slipped on his coat he did not feel that sensation of
unadulterated joy which he had expected. He was
- glad, to be sure, that there would be no more delay—
that he would not have to continue the good behavior
‘on the scrub which he had found so. difficult; but
E deep down in his heart was a sense of self-contempt
‘which was not pleasant and which he proceeded to
stifle with the greatest expedition.

 
 
  
  
   
   
   
  
   
    
 
   
  
   
 

Kollock picked up a candle to light them downstairs,
and, passing close to the wall next the door, Rose’s
eye fell upon a faded picture, taken from some maga-
zine, which somehow interested him, and caused him
to stop and examine it more closely.

    
   
    

t was the reproduction of a photograph of a man

   
 

physique was a thing to wonder at. He seemed to

 

  

keen interest, arose from the chair and stretched him-

Ss! ipped to trunks and gymnasium shoes, and whose |

   

 

WEEKLY.

13

 

be a fellow in the early twenties, with massive shoul-
ders, slim hips, and a perfectly proportioned frame.
There was not an ounce of superfluous flesh on his
nothing but sleek, graceful, undulating muscle,
but rippling, latently

body,
not big and bulging, smooth,
power ful.

Rose gazed with admiration upon the strong, shapely
neck, as perfectly chiseled as that of a Greek god,
above which the head was proudly poised and sur- -
veyed the handsome face with its wide-set eyes, shapely
mouth, and shadowing of thick curly hair Then he
glanced down at the bottom of the picture to see whom
it might be.

As he read the name he gave a gasp of astonishment
and turned sharply around:

“You?” he exclaimed incredulously.

Bill Kollock grinned broadly.

“That’s what!” he returned proudly. “Took when
I was champeen. Them was great days, I tell you,”

As in a daze the sophomore’s eyes traveled swiftly
over the hulking brute before him, scarcely able to
credit the fellow’s words, But little by little he real-
ized that they were true. The great shoulders were
there, bent and slouching, but still powerful; and so
was the mighty form, though almost unrecognizable
under the rolls of flabby, unwholesome tissue. But
the face! Heavens above! How could it be the same?
How many years must have elapsed to bring about
such a horrible transformation!

‘When was it taken?” he asked presently.

"Jest eleven yearsjago,” Kollock answered promptly.
“I was twenty-five then. I’m around thirty-six now.”

Thirty-six! Rose looked incredulously at the flabby,
fleshy chin, the sunken, red-rimmed eyes, the broken
nose. The skin was coarse, inflamed, unhealthy; the
teeth broken and blackened stumps, showing constantly
in the fixed leer of the sensual mouth. There were
but a few thin wisps of hair left. Thirty-six? The .
man looked fifty! Rose glanced swiftly back at the
face in the picture, with its proudly set mouth and
dark eyes glowing with the fire of youth and strength
and clean living: Only eleven years! It was horrible!

Suddenly he turned toward the door and caught
Grath by the arm.

“Come on,” he said hoarsely. “Let’s get out!”

It seemed as if he could not stumble down the
creaking stairs quickly enough. He wanted to get —
away from the place, to breath the fresh air into his —
lungs in great gulps and drive out the impurities of —
that loathsome room. More than all else he wanted to —
get away from Kollock. Why, he did not know. He —

   

     
Tir SOE.

had never felt in just this way before. To think of
a man’s having sunk to such unutterable depths, and
pil in eleven years. There was something appalling in
the idea.

He did not wait for the flickering light of the candle
to guide him, but, still holding Grath by the arm, he
stumbled downward and at last reached the street.

“What the deuce is your hurry?” complained his
companion as he started at a brisk walk toward the
more frequented part of town. “It isn’t more than
ten.”

“Oh, I don’t want to waste any more time in this
rotten hole,”’..Rose returned impatiently.

All the way back to the campus Grath found his
companion uripleasantly taciturn. After the successful
outcome of their expedition, he had expected that Rose
would be in the best of spirits; but, instead, here he
was as glum as if things had not gone at all their way.

The truth was that Rudolph Rose was haunted by
the two pictures, that on the wall; of the man as he
had once been, and the horrible grinning reality who
stood before it in apparent unconsciousness of the
ghastly nature of the change. Eleven years! Even
yet it seemed incredible. Rose found himself repeat-
ing to himself with monotonous iteration: “Eleven
years! Eleven years!’ What had brought about the
transformation? Drink, perhaps, but the first down-
fall had not been due to drink. While the fellow
stayed in the ring he was all right. What, then
Rose shuddered, and as they reached Chapel Street he
found himself saying over and over again that line
from Shakespeare :

“ ‘Look upon this picture and then on that’” |

WEEKLY.

revenged upon Dick Merriwell, and substituting some
other method.

His hatred of Dick had not lessened in the slightest,
nor his keen desire to settle the fancied score he had
against the senior; but he had been shocked the night
before by a sudden realization of what Kollock had
made of himself, and he could not bring himself to
make use of any aid he had obtained from the man.

“\ In short, his innate sense of right and wrong was

for the moment uppermost, and he had lain awake
most of the night trying to think up some means
whereby he could accomplish his end without resort-
ing to the trick of throwing Merriwell’s kneecap out
of place. Unfortunately, no practicable idea had come
to him.

Somehow, when he awoke to the bright sunshine of
another day, his distaste for the scheme subsided in
proportion to his inability to think up a substitute; and
by the time he reached the field that afternoon, his
scruples had gradually vanished, the sight of Dick
himself being the only thing needed to make the last
of them take flight. /

“Tl get you somehow,” he muttered, casting a
lowering glance at Merriwell, who was practicing
punting at a little distance. “I'd like nothing better —
than to put you out of business for the rest of the
season; and I will, too, the first chance I get.”

His opportunity did not come that day, Yaowever.
Knowing that he could depend on his chum at all |
times, Buckhart did not give him the ball once, but
spent the afternoon in letting some of the weaker —
members of the team show what they could do.)

Consequently Rose was obliged to bottle up his rage
and play on the scrub quite as if he was thoroughly

 

‘gs

enjoying himself, having no thought in the world ex- _
cept to make as good a showing at the game as he was
able. | :

He laughed harshly.

“What the mischief is the matter with you to-night,
Rudie?” Grath inquired testily. “You're about as
good company as a lamp post.”

Rose shrugged his shoulders.

“Oh, nothing,” he said carelessly.
thinking. Let’s go around to Morey’s.”

° See
It was extremely hard, for he was literally boiling —
oo ha: with rage and an almost uncontrollable longing to sail

into Teddy Baxter who played opposite him. He had
not in the least given up his intention of settling that é
gentleman’s hash, but he deemed it wiser to wait |
until he had paid up his score with Merriwell. Bax-
ter would be easier game, and he could always taunt
him into a fight and lick him; for Rose had not the
least doubt that his defeat last week at the hands of
his classmate was due more to his own haste and lack.
of control than to any particular skill on the part of
his opponent. He would have laughed to scorn the
idea that Baxter could possibly be his superior in t
art of self-defense.

“T was only

eCHAPTER VII.
ROSE BIDES HIS TIME.

It is astonishing what changes a night will bring
forth in one’s point of view. Rudolph Rose had gone
to bed with the firm intention of throwing up the.
means he had acquired from the wrestler of becoming

 
TIP. TOR

 

With a tenacity worthy of a better cause, Rose

KS kept a firm grip on himself all the afternoon and never

 

 

 

 
   
 
   
   
  
  
  
  

 

  

-even gave a hint of the passions that were devouring
t him. To all outward appearance he was simply put-
i ting his whole heart and soul into the game,: and
: - never had he played so well.
More than one of the fellows noticed this with dis-
‘ tinct surprise. They had not supposed the hot-tem-
: pered sophomore’s reformation could possibly last over
‘ another day, but here he was, playing calmly, soberly,
with unexpected judgment, and without a single out-
; ts burst of passion, which they had learned to expect
: from him as a matter of course.

Teddy Baxter was surprised and pleased. He was
f not at all the sort to hold a grudge, and it delighted
; him beyond measure to see Rose doing so well. Like
i Merriwell, he had seen the weak spots in the team and
: more than once he speculated on the possibility of
; Rose developing strength enough to fill one of them.
‘ _.. After the practice was over and the men started

fy back to the athletic house, Rose, somewhat to his as-
: tonishment, found Dick Merriwell walking beside him.
“That was a splendid defense you put up this after-
: noon,” the latter said quietly. “I don’t think I’ve ever
=» § seen better.”

ig: Rose flushed a little.

i = “You're very kind,’ he returned slowly. “I must
7 1 be getting on when you approve of my game.”

i | Try as he would he could not help the little touch of
‘ sarcasm which crept into his voice.

“TL hope you'll keep it up,” Dick continued, ignoring
oy the other’s slight sneer. “The varsity is weak in at
a least thtee points, and I feel sure you could fill any
y one of them more acceptably than the present’ occu-
© pants if you continue to Pay as atgaciy as you have
te done the past two days.

Xe The sophomore’s lips curled a little at the corners.
ee How very much he would like to give Merriwell his
te real opinion of him! But that was, of course, impos-
do ‘sible. The senior must not have the slightest reason
‘ for suspecting anything, so he pulled himself together
it and remarked in his smoothest tone:
aa e ~“You’re very good to encourage me this way, Mer-
' _tiwell. Of course, that’s what I’m working for. Thete
ss may be only the slimmest kind of a chance of my get-
: ; - ting back on the varsity, but it does no harm for me

to have that goal before me.”

Net. in the least,” Dick returned promptly; “and
f there's Any ASST aHOn ‘in the knowledge, I< can

  

  

WEEKLY,

 

‘and thrown out of the team himself.

  

One of the other men came up.at that moment and
entered into conversation with Merriwell, giving Rose
to hasten on to the house. He was
chance of slipping away, for this con-
for self-control was more physically
exhausting than he had imagined. Another moment
and he would probably have thrown caution to the
winds and given Dick such a tongue lashing as would
have unquestionably undone all the hard work and

the opportunity
thankful for the
tinual straining

planning of the past twenty-four hours.

“What the deuce ee he mean by coming around
that line of talk?” he growled to himself as he
hurried into the athletic house. “Why can’t he leave
I don’t want any of his pattings on the
Bah! He makes me

with

me alone?
back, or kind words of praise.
sick.”

Again Morgan Grath was waiting at the gate for
him, and again they journeyed ba¢k to the campus to-
gether. The ill-natured junior was quite in his ele-
ment. He liked nothing better than to embroil two
men whom he disliked, and from the first he had
watched the growing rage and resentment of Rudolph
Rose against his old enemy, Merriwell, with malicious
joy.. To be sure, he had no special grudge against
Rose, except that he had been always more or less
jealous of the sophomore’s popularity and success in
athletics, and would not be at all sorry to see his down-
fall. It would have given him supreme pleasure if
Rose, after putting Merriwell down and out by the
trick learned from Kollock, could only be discovered
But that would
be too much to hope for. He must be content with
only one of these things.

He was disappointed that there had been no op-
portunity for Rose to get in his, fine work that day,
but he showed nothing of this, and all the way home
occupied himself in skillfully keeping the sophornoré’s
anger at a white heat and urging him to be on the look-
out to-morrow. :

It seemed almost as if the fates were against the
project, for again next day- Merriwell received the ball
but once, and then was downed by one of the scrub
before Rose could get out of the line to tackle him.

Consequently, by the end of the day, his nerves
were in such a state of-tension that he did not see a
how he could keep up the racket for another after-_
noon, The thing was becoming a sort of monomania
with him. He found himself eying Teddy Baxter's
chin and planning just where he could land his fist.

most effectively; and he knew that if this sort of

thing kept up much longer, he would lose control of —

    
    
     
    
      
   
 
   
  
   
 
  
   
  
  
  
  
   
  
  
  
  
     
     
     
    

er tete re oe

Oe th i Re wy nem Fay en ete

All at once he stopped like a flash and darted back.

( *

himself, and, sure as fate, would really do something
which would result in his being thrown off the field
for good.

Consequently, he was immeasurably relieved when
Buckhart announced the following afternoon that spe-
cial practice would give place to a regular game be-
tween the two teams.

That meant that the ball would be given to the
strongest players instead of the weaker ones, and, with
a sigh of thankfulness, Rose realized that the chance
for which he had been waiting go long might come at
any moment.

For the first time that week he gettled into his place
in the line without that feeling of tension. For the
moment he forgot the strain of being constantly on
his guard, forgot even Teddy Baxter, as his whole
mind became concentrated upon the more important
problem.

With every nerve taut and every sense alert, he
waited impatiently for the signal to be given.

The first play was a dash through centre by Baulsir

_ who made two yards before he was downed.

Swiftly the teams lined up again, and as Rose
crouched in his place, the blood throbbing loudly in
his temples, he wondered whether the next play would
bring with it his opportunity.

The signal sounded suddenly, the ball was snapped
back quickly and passed to Merriwell, who started
around the end like a flash.

But quick as he was, Rose was ahead of him. With >

a leap like a tiger, he sprang backward, whirling to the
left as he did so, and darted past the left end of the
scrub. (

Dick saw him coming and swerved still farther out
into the field. But while he thus drew away from
Rose, he lost in a measure the assistance of his sup-
port, and, in a moment, the two men were darting
across the field at an angle.

- Hot-headed as he was, the sophomore realized that
Merriwell would very soon have to change his course,
since the present one was taking him toward the side
lines. Consequently, while not abating his speed in

the slightest, he slightly swerved toward the goal, all
the time. holding himself in readiness to anticipate
_ Merriwell’s every move.

Thus it was that the two men were following two

sides of a triangle, of which Rose’s side was by far
the shortest, and if they kept on their present course
they would meet close to the side line.

This, of course, Dick had no intention of doing.

dir TOr

     

WEEKLY.

on his tracks a few feet, whirled, and started swiftly :
forward again, intending to pass behind Rose.

The latter, however, had been waiting for just such
a move, and when Merriwell turned, he also wheeled
about and caught his opponent as the latter was on the
point of passing him.

His chance had come, and, with his heart hot with
hatred, he plunged forward to tackle Dick.

CHAPTER VIII.

FAILURE,

 

The rapidity with which the human brain does its
work has always been a source of wonderment to the
ordinary individual. To most people the passage of
light through space seemed to be the swiftest thing
of which we have any knowledge, but sometimes it
would almost appear that our thoughts are even faster.

Rudolph Rose started his tackle with an absolutely
firm intention of using the trick he had learned from
Bill Kollock and deliberately throwing Dick  Merri-
well’s kneecap off. He had been waiting patiently.and
at a considerable cost of his nervous system for this
moment to arrive, and now he meant to make the most
of it. i

He had even settled in his mind that he would take a
the right leg, which was nearest to him...More than , q He
that, he had planned exactly where he would placeeach
hand and just what he would do with them.

But in that tiny fraction of time used in actually
making the tackle there suddenly flashed into his mind
the picture he had seen tacked up on the wall in that —
room down by the water front, of Kollock in the zenith —
of his power, and ‘close beside it leered the hideous! —
face of the barred-out wrestler as Rose had last seen
him. It was as clear and vivid and distinct as any shee
tograph, and in that brief instant Rudolph Rose knew —
that he could not do this thing. %

It was all over in a second, The two men crashed —
to the ground together, but it was a fair tackle. Rose _
had retained for the moment his self-respect. p

The other men came dashing up, the whistle
sounded, and as Rose got on his feet, Phil Keran
slapped him heartily on the back. |

“Good boy, Rudie!” he exclaimed. “That was a _
dandy play! If we keep on this way we'll beat the
varsity. How about it, Dick?”

“It was great!” Merriwell agreed canal “You
used your head to perfection that time, old fellow.
I tried my best to fool you, but it didn’tawork.” _

 

      
     
     
       
       
     
     
   
       
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
      
     
     
     
    
    
     
       
    
 

 
 

  

  

  

   
   

did ewe

 

Rose made no answer, but stepped to his place in
the line without a word. He was furiously angry at
himself because he had failed at the crucial moment.
What in:the world was the matter with him? Had
he grown afraid? After waiting for days for this
chance he had (deliberately let it go by.
someone would kick him good and hard a few times.
He wondered whether Grath was on the field, and pic-
tured to himself his friend’s disgust at the inexcusable
failure.

For the rest of the day he played fast and furiously,
striving to forget his failure, and strangely enough the
habit of self-control seemed to have grown so fa-
miliar that he forgot for a space that the necessity for
it was gone.

hee
oe

i

He wished

 

and Fullerton held serious consultation as to whether
? they could trust Rose sufficiently to restore him to the
team the next day.

‘ “He’s sure done some dandy work ever since Satur-
day,’ the Texan remarked. “And Hardy is punkier
than ever.”

  
   

Old Bill was more skeptical.

  
 

“T don’t hold with these sudden. reforms,” he said
tersely. “This Rose has got a pretty rotten temper,
and I never yet saw a man who could get the best of
himself in a week’s time. Better wait a-few days and
see if he keeps it up.”

 
    
     
  

Meanwhile Rose joined his friend as usual at the
gate. Morgan Grath surveyed him with lowering
brows. ,

   
  
  
 

“What in thunder was the matter?” he snapped.
“Why didn’t you do it? You had the chance of a life-
time, and you backed down!”

 
  
  

The sophomore was not at all in the humor to be
hectored. It was one thing to curse himself, and quite
another to have some one else take him to task; and,
at the sound of Grath’s words, he clenched his fists and
his eyes flashed dangerously.

_ *YLook-here, Grath,” he said, in a hard tone, “we'd

_ better come to an understanding right away. This is
entirely my affair, and I don’t propose to submit to.any
dictation from you.” .

The junior reddened and started to reply hotly.
- Then he apparently decided that discretion: was the
better part of valor.

a of course, if you take it that. way, I'll. shut
up,” "he returned, with assumed indifference. “I was
only wondering why you didn’t*make use of such a
bully chance... Personally I don’t care a. snap of the

  
   
 
   
  
    
  
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
   

  

WEEKLY.

The result was that after practice was over Buckhart

  

17.

finger whether you make use of the knowledge you've.
paid for, or not.”

Rose was somewhat mollified.

“I didn’t do it because I couldn't,” he explained.
“Up to the last minute I fully intended to use Kol-
lock’s trick, but when the time came I simply couldn't
make up my mind to put myself in that ruffian’s class.”

“T don’t understand,’ Grath returned, with a puz-
zled look,
him a curious glance.

“Well, if you don’t, nothing that I can say will ever
make you,” he said shortly.

Rose gave

For a moment they walked on in silence. The face
of the junior was an odd mixture of bewilderment,
anger, and chagrin at the failure of his carefully laid
plans. :

“Are you going to drop the whole thing?” he asked
presently, with a slight sneer. “Going to let Merri-
well and that cub, Baxter, crow over you?”

The sophomore’s handsome. face crimsoned with
anger.

“No, P’m-not!” he retorted sharply. “I’m going
to get even with them both, but I'll do it on my own
hook.”

‘“Humph!” snorted Grath. ‘How,?”

“I don’t know yet.”

There was another pause, during which Rose seemed
to be thinking deeply. Grath surveyed his face with
a look which was the reverse of friendly. At length
he stopped abruptly.

“Perhaps you intend to walk back to the campus,
he snapped, “but I propose to take a car.”

Rose looked up in a;rather bewildered manner.
In his excitement and anger he had dashed out of the
field, and, without thinking of what he was doing,
started down the street at a rapid walk, Grath keep-
ing pace with him until the present moment.

“Why, no, I’m not going to walk,” he returned
slowly. “I was so busy thinking this thing over that
I forgot all.about a car. Here comes one now.”

They took it, and by the time they reached the
campus Grath had quite recovered his good spirits.
He, too, had been doing some thinking, and had an
idea that the result was worth the time spent on it.

“Got any plan yet?” he inquired, as they paused —
at the corner of Chapel and High Streets. .

Rose shook his head.

“Nothing worth while,” he answered.

Grath put his hand on his companion’s shoulder.

“Look here, Rudie,”

'

he said, ina low tone, “Pye |

 

 

 

 
      
oa

 

wR ee et ree
eS a

ae Natit x
= é:

ais Pics reat eos
e ag WBS S Ms

time Kollock was not in the bar, and,

     
   
  
  
  
  
   
   
   
   
   
  
 

rae,

  

been thinking this thing over. If you don’t want to
do the trick yourself, why not get Bill to do it?”

“ISollock, you mean?” questioned Rose.

“Yes. He wouldn’t charge much.”

Rose did nat answer at once. He seemed to be turn-
ing the idea over in his mind, and Grath watched him
furtively.

“Not a bad idea, is it?” the latter ventured presently.

“TI don’t know,” the sophomore said slowly. “TI
nevet believe in giving a fellow of that stamp a hold
over me. He might make it blamed unpleasant for me
some time.”

“Oh, Bill’s all right,”

never peach after he’d got his money.”

Grath assured hastily. “He'd
“You think so?” .

“Sure thing. He'd never let a peep out
don’t believe it woul Bnet the first time he'd
sort of thing, either.

“T suppose we might try him, anyhow,”

of him. I

done that

Rose said
hesitatingly, after another pause.
A gleam of triumph flashed into the junior’s eyes.
“He'll do it, all right,” “We'd
better: go down to-night and see him.”

he made haste to say.

Again Rudolph Rose hesitated before making a final
decision. He knew perfectly well that to hire a man
to do something which he was unwilling to do himself
was infinitely the more contemptible way of the two,
and yet he was seriously considering it. He was de-
luding himself with the false reasoning that, if Kollock
actually did the dirty work, his’ own hands would re-

‘main clean.

_ It was a question whether, deep down in his heart,

he really believed this to be true. But, be that as it
3 may, he turned a deaf ear to the iurmurings of con-
science, resolutely smothered his better nature, and
_ finally agreed to go with Grath to the wharves that
/night and bargain with the wrestler.

His state of mind was not an enviable one as he
_ made his way reluctantly, toward the water front and
once more stood before Pete Hoogan’s saloon. This
as they cau-
tiously climbed the rickety stairway through the pitchy
darkness, Rose felt, with renewed. force, a return of
that inexplicable sensation of dislike and antipathy
which had surged over him so strangely three nights

Reaching the third floor without any mishaps, Grath,

ock’s room and entered.

“He’s here, all ey. he a back the next mo-

TOP

titi was in the lead, pushed open the door to Kol-.
‘There’s my offer.
~needn’t be afraid yon won't get your money, ahs ‘you

   

WEEKLY.

The wrestler was not quite that, however, for at
the sound of Grath’s voice, he opened his eyes and sat
up on the dirty bed where he had sae sleeping.

“What in thunder do you want?” he growled, in a

surly voice.

Rashad

as his sight cleared, he recognized Grath

standing in the middle of the room, and the head of

Then,

Rose peering through the doorway. Oe.
“Oh, it’s you!”
stood up,

he went on, in a milder tone, as he
“Come in, gents, and make yourselves to. +. |
home.”

 

He slouched over to the table and trimmed the wick

 

of the candle, which flared smokily. Rose stepped in- ~~ }
side the room and closed the door. ae

“Anything the matter?’’ inquired Kollock, looking = |
from one to the other. “Didn’t the trick. work?” 1s

      
 

’9

“He didn’t try Grath explained. “He—er— :
didn’t want to run any chances of being found out.”’

      
   
 

He hesitated, not quite knowing how to broach the
subject to the burly giant. Presently the latter took

 
   
 

the reins out of his hands.

 
 

“What are you after?’ he inquired. “Want me to
do it?” | We

His tone was so matter-of-fact that Rose gasped.
Evidently Grath was right. This would not -be the
first time Kollock had done his ditty work for hire. _

‘“Er—would you?” he asked, in a low tone. .

The hulking brute surveyed him critically, from
under bushy eyebrows. ? af

“H'm!” he said presently.

“On what?”

“How much you'd fork over.’

Rose was rapidly recovering his customary poise Se.
After all, it seemed to be merely a question of money re
Other men had apparently secured the fellow’ S ser- |
vices—why not he? eat

        
     
     
     
       
     
     
    

“That depends.’

        
     
     
     
       
    

“How much do-you w ant?” he asked quickly. ss,

    
 

“Wouldn’t touch it for less than a hundred.” :
“Whew !”’ Grath, “A hundred for five
minutes work! That’s what I call robbery!” 3
Kollock paid'no attention to him. “His red-rimmed
eyes were fixed keenly on the sophomore S handsome :
Rose did not hesitate. = Re le

     

whistled

      
 

  
  

    

 
 

face.
“Tl pay it,’ he | said, shortly. “Pwenty-five down,

and the rest when the job i is done.” Pan
“Make it an even half-and-half,” whined Kollock. 3

“And have you fail?” retorted Rose. “No, thanks,
You can take it or leave it, You

    
  
 
 
 

   
  

    
  
  

 
  

earn it”

  
 

 

 

   
    
  
 
  
  
  
   
  
    
  
  
  
  
    
   

  
   

 

  

 
 

into his pocket.

ona ae

him before.

‘had set his feet.
sibility of drawing back, even had he wished to.

tar = SOF

Kollock held back a little longer, but* finding that
Rose was obdurate, he finally gave in.

“And now who’s the gent you've got the grudge
against ?’’ he inquired carelessly.

“His name is
- Rudolph Rose broke off abruptly. After all, why
was it necessary to give Kollock that information?
Dick Merriwell’s name was known to almost every-
body in New Haven—to a great many people, in fact,
who were unfamiliar with his face. It was quite pos-
sible that the hulking giant might not be so keen for
the job—he might even back down—when he knew
who his victim was.

“He’s a student,’ Rose went on slowly. “I don’t
know that it makes any difference what his name is.”’

“How the deuce am I going to find him if [ don’t
know who he is?’’ Kollock Bterie impatiently.

“Don’t be in such a rush,” retorted Rose. “I’ll have
to point him out to you, of course. That’s what I’m
trying to think out.”

 

There was a momentary silence as the sophomore
‘turned over in his mind the various ways by which

this might be accomplished. Suddenly his eyes bright-
ened. 3

“I’ve got it!” he exclaimed triumphantly. “Meet

“me to-morrow night at seven o’clock at the corner of

State and Grove. Be prepared to pull off the job then,
though I’m not quite certain it can be done. Under-
Mande: <>" 4

“Sure,” returned Kollock.
morrow night at seven.”

“And don’t be lit up, or anything like that,”
tioned Rose. “This fellow isn’t a kid, you know.”

The wrestler grinned confidently.

“Trust me,” he said briefly. “Got the coin?”

Rose counted out twenty-five dollars and gave it to
him. Then he turned toward the door.

“That’s all, I guess,” he said shortly.
you don’t fail me.”

“State and Grove to-

cau-

“Be sure

Kollock said, as he stuffed the bills
“T’ll be there.”

Followed by Grath, Rudolph Rise hastened through

“Never fear,”

the doorway into the hall, resolutely turning his face

away from thepicture on the wall which had so moved
_ He did not wish to see it. He did not
wish to have any reminders of the path upon which he
The thing was done beyond the pos-
But
he had no wish to draw back. This was the easier

_ way, and he would be quite as thoroughly revenged as
if he had done it himself.

 

WEEKLY. 19

Deliberately he stifled his better nature, smothered
his conscience, and with perfectly cold-blooded calcu-
lation shut his eyes to the dishonorable nature of what
he had done.

As they reached the street, Grath turned toward him
eagerly.

“Why Grove and State?’
“What notion have you got in your head, Rudie?”

s Almost every other night he goes to see Don Tem-
pest,” “You know what a
quiet street Hillhouse Avenue is? , And only a few

he asked curiously.

’ Rose said significantly.

blocks from our point of meeting.”

He hesitated for an instant, moistening his lips.

“T happen to know that Merriwell was there last
night,” “It is almost certain that
he will go again to-morrow. You see my point?”

Grath chuckled in a cold-blooded way.

“You're pretty good, he said admiringly.
“TI reckon you won't slip up this time.”

he went on quietly.

Rudie,”’

CHAPTER IX.

LOWER THAN THE BEASTS,

“T wonder where Rose was to-night?” Merriwell
remarked, as he and Buckhart came out from the train-
ing table. “Did he say anything to you about being
away?”

“Nary a word, pard,”
“T haven’t seen him since he hiked away from the field
this afternoon.”

“T hope he’s not going to be one of the: kind who
Dick continued.
developing into too good a man to indulge in
That was a dandy game he

breaks training every once in a while,”
“He’s
that sort of foolishness.
put up this afternoon.”

“Tt sure was,” Buckharttagreed. “I was talking to
old Bill about trying him out in Hardy’s place. George
was rotten to-day.”

“What did he say?”

“Thinks we'd better wait a while. He’s afraid Rose
isn’t going to keep up his good work, and if he gets
back on the team he’ll let loose on that temper of his.”

“There’s something in that,” Merriwell said
thoughtfully. “I’ve had my eye on him all this week,
and the fellow is certainly making a big effort at self-

_control; but, of course, it may not be permanent. I

guess it’s a good idea to hold over for a few days.
There’s no game until next week, and by that time
you'll be sure?’ ;

  

the Texan returned promptly.

  

            
     
       
       
     
   
         
      
     
 

TIP TOP WEEKLY.

“Coming back to the diggings?” Buckhart inquired.

Dick pulled out his watch.

“Think Pll run around and see Don for a few min-
utes first,” he returned. ‘He'll be expecting me,”

“Well,
drawled, ‘‘and tell him to st
the field. We need him bad.”

Dick smiled. )

“T don’t believe we're half as anxious for him to
: “Tl be back

shake his old paw for me,” the Texan

tir himself and get out on

come out as he is himself,’ he said.
in about an hour.”

Without further words they separated, Brad return-
ing to the campus, while Dick made his way rapidly
toward Hillhouse Avenue.

Five minutes later he turned into it from Grove
Street and kept briskly on his way toward the house
where Don Tempest had rooms, which was situated
at almost the extreme end of the short street.

Just before reaching the house he was rather
prised to see a man step out from behind a tree
stand directly in the centre of the sidewalk. He was
even more surprised the next instant to recognize the

sur-
and

unprepossessing face of Bill Kollock, plainly visible
in the light from the street lamp. He knew the man by
sight, and even more by his ae which was not
of the most savory, and W ondered what had brought
the fellow to this unlikely /spot.

He was not long in finding out.

As he approached, Kollock’ did not stir from the
middle of the walk.

“Got a match, young feller?” he growled as Dick
reached him.

Merriwell felt in his pocket, eying the man keenly as
he did so. It was an old dodge, but he had no par-
ticular reason for refusing the fellow the small favor,
even though he felt perfectly sure Kollock had no
more use ies match than he had.

At length he found one in his pocket and pulled it
_ “Flere you are,”
_. The next instant the burly

he said shortly, extending his hand.
giant seized it in a

>

man close to him.
Rudolph Rose, watching from where he had with-
‘drawn into the shadow at a little distance, felt a thrill

of fierce, revengeful joy go through him. At last his
- chance had come. Now he would see this Merriwell
 Inmbledto the dust as he himself had been humbled on
the field a week before. He wondered whether Dick
would cry out. That would be almost too much to
hope for. Kollock certainly had him in fais power, and.

in imagination, Rose could almost hear the bones of
arm: crack,
Eagerly he bent forward,
riwell’s face, which was plainly visible in the light. It
was strangely calm for the face of a man in such des-

There was even a faint smile curving

the senior’s
his eyes riveted on Mer?

perate straits.
the corners of the sensitive mouth. Rose longed cru-
elly for a flicker of pain to drive that smile away.
Merriwell stood
His hand' was

Oddly enough it did not come.
apparently without moving a muscle.
clasped in the huge fist of the wrestler almost as if
he were shaking hands with a friend. Why didn’t
Kollock begin? What was o matter with him?
Rose swore softly to himself as he bent forward
trifle and tried to get a glimpse of the hulking giant’s
face,

All at once he heard a gasp of pain, Ah! At last
there was something doing. But as he glanced again
at the Yale man’s face he saw that it had not changed
save perhaps that the eyes had narrowed
There was

a particle,
a little and the mouth grown a trifle stern.
not the least hint of suffering about it.
Again came that gasp of pain, changing swiftly to”
alow moan. Suddenly Rose gave a start and his heart
leaped into his mouth.

him! |
What had happened? What could possibly be the

matter? The handsome sophomore could not under-

stand, and then, as he waited breathlessly, a voice

broke the stillness, clear, icy cold, and so full of un-

utterable loathing and contempt that each syllable stung
like the lash of a whip.
» Dick Merriwell was speaking.

“You scum! You contemptible coward! It’s just
such tricks as this which have brought you down into —
the very dirt! You're worse than the lowest animal—

a man without the slightest sense of decency; of honor,

of fair play! You're not a man at all! There isn’t a
particle of manhood left in your hulking carcass! T he
lowest crawling creatures of the sewer are no worse
than such as you!’ ae
He paused, but Kollock made no sound. Back in
the darkness Rudolph Rose felt a horrible shrinking
of the heart, his flesh quiyered and his throat tightened —
strangely. Somehow he felt as if every bitter, scorn-
ful word was meant for him, and they hurt desperately,
burning into Nis very soul like the searing of a, ree hot
iron. |

When Merriwell spoke again his voice was quieter, ry.

but no less clear and full of scorn,

 

e . 4 ote
The cry came, not from Merri- —
well, but from the hulking ruffian who stood before —
  

“T’ve often wondered, Kollock, if you ever realized
‘what you might have been had you played fair. Do
you remember the days when your name was in the
mouths of thousands? When you could not walk the
streets without a crowd of boys—men, even——follow-.
ing you with awed, admiring glances. To them you
were a god. They would go home and say with pride
that they had seen the great Kollock.

Have you forgotten that night the President
watched you conquer Manning, the English champion?
Do you remember how you felt when afterward you
shook the hand of the head of this nation? And how

of _ the papers printed columns next day hailing you as the
| man who could be world champion if he wished? You
| ee never wished to, Kollock.. You took the easier way—
| the way of the coward, the man without a sense of
honor—and set your foot upon the downward path.
Has it paid? Do you ever look back with regret upon
- what you might have been? Is there no bitterness in
the horrible realization of what you are?”

_ He paused again, but still Kollock did not speak,
He stood with head bent and eyes fixed upon the
_ ground. The muscles of his flabby face were drawn,
his heavy jaw was set in a hard line, his color had
_ changed from a mottled, unwholesome red to a ghastly
gay.

Rose, shivering as with a chill, passed, a trembling
} hand across his moistened forehead.

“A sot,” Merriwell went on contemptuously; “

as drunken sot! You neyer drank when you were in she
_ ting. That came afterward. A solace, I suppose, for
the ever lessening gate receipts, as you were barred
from first one place and then another for your repeated
-fouls—usually the little trick of dislocation of which
you were so fond, varied occasionally by breaking your
‘opponents arm, just as you tried to break mine to-
night. You know, of course, Kollock, that I have you
_just where you wanted to get 1 me? A! single movement
of my wrist and that arm of yours yould snap like a
pipe stem. I suppose you wonder why I don’t do it?
man of your stamp can have no conception of my
int of view. You couldn’t understand that I would

 

 

 
  
 
   
  
   
  
  
   
   
   
    
    
  
  

   

 
 
  
      

 

Irs, ‘I think that’s s alt.
ou, and you can go.” 3
| With a quick motion ont his arm, Merriwell ‘thrust!

You have my opinion of |

    
 

   
  

TIP: TOP WEEKLY.

 

Zu

As he regained his freedom, Kollock threw up his
head, and, that of an angry bull
leaped forward and flung himself furiously upon Dick.

with a roar like

a fist shoot out
and land with crushing force on the side of the wrest-
back, and, with-
out a sound, dropped in a heap on the sidewalk, where
he lay still.

Dick stepped forward and bent over him. There
was a moment’s pause and he straightened up again.

“He'll come to presently,” he murmured, as he
stepped over the great body.

The next instant he was face to face with Rudolph

Rose.

Dazed as he was, Rose saw vaguely

ler’s chin.. The hulking rufhan reeled

CHAPTER X.
ON THE EDGE OF THE ABYSS,

For a,moment neither of the two men spoke. Rose
was so full of a kind of dazed horror at what he had
just seen and heard that his tongue seemed paralyzed,
while Merriwell himself, surprised beyond measure at
finding the sophomore there, eyed him silently, won-
dering whether the quick suspicion which had flashed
into his mind could have any possible foundation.

Presently the senior broke the stillness.

“Good evening, Rose,” he said, rather coolly. “I
had no idea there was a witness to this little unpleasant-
ness. Might I ask how long you have been here?”

Rudolph Rose hesitated, striving to get a grip on
himself and bring about some sort of order in the tur-
moil of thoughts which were scurrying madly through
his brain. He wanted desperately to get away by him-
self, he wanted a chance to think with some composure,
and yet he must answer Merriwell and do it plausibly ;
for he could not bear the idea of) Dick knowing the
truth.

Swiftly his eyes toved about seeking some way out.
He moistened his dry lips with his tongue, and at last
he spoke. ~~ ;

“Only—a few—minutes,”’ he stammered.

The voice was hoarse and broken, utterly different
from his own, and it frightened bit. He must pull
himself together. _

Merriwell looked searchingly at his face.

“How much did you see?” he asked Shortly.

Rose swallowed hard. His hands, pressed close to
his sides, clenched and unclenched ceaselessly. ?
“I saw—you knock him down,’ ' he faltered.

  
    
   
   

   
  
  
   
  
  
  
  
 

40 TIP TOP

Dick did not take his eyes from the sophomore’s
blanched face.

“He deserved much worse treatment than that,” he
‘said coldly. “I wish you had been here to see it all.”

Tc Rudolph Rose’s guilt-quickened senses there
seemed to be a peculiar significance in the other’s tone.
How much did Merriwell suspect ?
knew? He did not dare look Dick in the face, for he
knew his own eyes would betray him. He did not
speak for fear his voice would play him false.

Suddenly Dick broke the silence.

“Rose,” he said sternly, “were you with this man?”

_.. The sophomore drew a swift breath. It had come!
- What could he say? What could he do?

rather die than have the other know what a contempt-
ible scoundrel he had been. Swiftly the seconds passed
in silence. He must do something—say something.
He could not bring himself to tell the truth, and so
—he lied.

“No!” he said, with a firmness which surprised him-
self.

His eyes were on the ground, but through the lids
he seemed to feel Merriwell’s gaze piercing to his very
soul.

Was it possible he

He would

 

Suddenly he raised his head and looked Dick
straight in the face.

“I was going to see Teddy Baxter,” he said quietly.
“I came through Sachem Street and, as I turned the
corner, I saw you push this fellow away, and then
saw him leap at you. It all came about so suddenly
that I hadn’t time to say a word.”

As.he finished, he heard Merriwell give a little sigh
of relief, and the sound pierced him like a knife. What
a low, miserable creature he was, anyway!

“I’m very glad to hear that, old fellow,” Dick said
in a friendly tone. “I beg your pardon. For a mo-
ment I thought But no matter. I was wrong.”

 

He paused an instant and looked down at the hulk-
ing Kollock on the ground.

“He'll come around in a few minutes,” he went on
quietly. “I must hustle or I’ll\be too late to see Tem-
pest. Good night.”

“Good night,”

The next moment Merriwell had disappeared into
the darkness, and Rose was left alone, staring at the
mnconscious bulk of the creature with which he had
allied himself.

Tt was a bitter moment. Never had the handsome,
care free sophomore felt such utter contempt and
- Joathing for himself. In that instant he saw his own

Rose said, in a low tone.

     

WEEKLY.

 

soul stripped bare of every glamor, a naked, shriveled, fs,
puny thing. He was no better than the sot who lay pe
before him on the sidewalk—worse, in fact, because a
he had hired this creature to do what he shrank from
attempting himself.

All at once Kollock stirred slightly and gave a low
moan, and at the sound Rose turned and flew down the
street as though pursued by demons. He felt that he
would go mad if he had to stand and watch the man
come slowly back to life; and so he ran, never stopping
until he reached his own door, breathlessly climbed the
stairs, and burst into his rooms.

He did not light the lamp, but, groping over to a
divan, flung himself face downward among the pillows.

For a long time he lay there. His mind was in a
turmoil, but little by little he calmed down, and pres-
ently he could think clearly and was able to probe
rigorously into the very depths of his soul.

What had he been thinking of? How was it possible
for him to have eee to such a pass without once
realizing it? He had been blind—stupidly, willfully
blind—drowsing along in an utterly false sense of
moral security, until Dick Merriwell’s biting, bitter |
words had torn the scales from his eyes in a twinkling. - —

 

Swiftly, clearly as a flash of lightning brings into
vivid relief the smallest detail of a whole wide land-
scape, he had seen the awful depths of the abyss above -
which he was tottering, and that one glimpse had
frightened him more than anything he had ever known.
Perhaps this was the way Kollock had started out on
his career of foul play and ruin. . Perhaps, eleven years
before, he had been as high minded and fond of fair
play as Rose himself, before he made that first fatal
step downward. But the edge of the entering wedge
is very thin. Probably Kollock had not realized at first —
that there was any wedge at all. Perhaps there had |
been nothing to make him see, no sudden shock to open -
his eyes to a realization of the truth, until it was too,
late.

 

 
       
     
     
      
    
   
  
       
    
         
     
 

  

 
 

Rose shuddered and dug his face deeper among the
cushions. How narrowly had he escaped the same —
fate! It was horrible to think of what might have |
been, had he not been awakened in time. But now that
he knew his peril he would strive to avoid it. He
would give up all thoughts of revenge upon Merriwell,
and even Teddy Baxter. What right had he, anyway, |
to wish revenge upon either of them? Baxter had
only treated him as he deserved, and his face burned /
at the thought of the contemptible way he had behaved

    
      
          
     
  

  

      
       
      
   
     
AiO Cte

 

Well, all that was at an end. He would turn over

a new leaf and strive to the utmost of his ability to
| keep the page cleaner than the old one.
: He would do his best to win the friendship and
esteem of (Dick Merriwell, the man whom he felt had
a saved him from something far worse than death. He
would throw himself into football with renewed vigor
and enthusiasm. He could never be too thankful that
he had failed at the last moment to injure Dick. He
would try to curb his temper, and always—always, he
_ would play fair.

\ In spite of all these good resolutions, one thing ran-
A  kled in the mind of Rudolph Rose, and grew and grew
until it had assumed tremendous proportions.

. He had lied to Merriwell—lied thoughtfully and de-
liberately. To a fellow who had always hated false-
hood and looked down with contempt upon a liar, the
remembrance was agony. And yet, if he told the truth,

he felt certain he would forever forfeit any share of

liking he might hope to receive from Dick.

On the other hand, he did not believe that he could
build anything of real worth upon a corner stone of
ee ‘deception. The lie would always linger in his mind,

) | like a festering sore, and so long as it remained uncon-
_ fessed he could never regain in full measure his own
self-respect.

It was a hard struggle, but in the end his better
self conquered, and he resolved that, come what might
of it, he would go to Merriwell the very‘next day and
tell him everything.

‘Then, with tired brain and torn nerves, but with a
| delicious, soothing sense of peace stealing over him, he

“closed his eyes and instantly fell asleep. |
How long he lay there, he knew not. He only knew
that presently he was struggling in the grip of a hor-
rible nightmare in which Kollock had found him and

 

 

 

 

 

  
 
 
   
  
   
  
  
    
  
   
  

pipe, was slowly strangling him to death.

   
   

and though he seemed to realize that he was dreaming,
that awful strangling gasping for breath continued.

Then he half came to his senses and found himself
lying on his divan, choking and gasping in the dense
uds of smoke which filled the room and grew ever

     
    
  

 

~

 

 
 

“Fire!” he muttered thickly. “The house is on fire!”
He must get up! Must get to a window! He
dn’t. breath much longer here! With a super-
n effort, he rolled onto the floor and tried to

  
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

   

WEEKLY.

with great, horny hands clasped tight around his wind- —

He struggled desperately to tear those hands away, -

CO BAe Cia PAMPER Ra APOE

      

To his
nerves the very floor seemed hot, but he kept on with-
out faltering, buoyed up by the knowledge that the
window was his only hope.

Slowly he passed the table, and more slowly yet the
armchair beyond. Now. it seemed as if he scarcely
The smoke crept

pet, choking, gasping, with senses reeling. raw

moved, but still he did not give up.
through the cracks in thicker, more poisonous volumes,
until at last he reached the wall.
a despairing groan.

the floor grew hotter,

Then he gave

The window was closed, and he had no strength left
to break the glass!

With fast ebbing consciousness, he sank back on
the carpet. then. Vaguely he
wished. that it had not come so soon. He would have
liked a chance to prove that he could make something
better of his But, after
all, what did it matter? The pungent, biting, choking
smoke clutched at his lungs with a horrid smothering

This was the end,
life than he had done so far.

sensation, the darkness seemed to press about him, en-
folding him like a heavy blanket, and he knew no more.

CHAPTER ‘XI.
DICK MERRIWELL’S RESCUE:

Merriwell passed a pleasant ‘half hour with Don
Tempest discussing every phase of the football situa-
tion, and then, returning to Durfee, settled down for a
couple of hours’ work. : |

He had some little trouble in concentrating his mind
on his books, for every now and then the incidents of
the early evening kept recurring to him with unusual
persistency.
~ He kept wondering just why Bill Kollock had set
upon him with the perfectly plain intention of disabling
Certainly the ruffian had not done it

It must have been at the instance

And who that some one could be
was what puzzled him. oT a trae

Could it have been Rose? He recalled the sopho-’
more’s evident embarrassment and palpably disturbed
state of mind when they had met face to face, and his
own first suspicions that the man was concerned in the
plot. But Dick knew him for a fellow who was habitu-
ally truthful and his answers had been satisfactory
enough, though it seerned a little odd that he should
be going to see Teddy Baxter.

Presently Buckhart, after nearly yawning: his head 5

him in some way.
of his own accord.
of some one else.

off for a few minutes, decided to turn in, and Dick \

ie

 
   
  
     
  
  
  
    
  
  
    
   
   
   
  
  
  
  
  
   
   
   

_ the head of the stairs.

 

24 Tan Or

was left alone. Another hour passed and he laid aside
his text books, but still he continued to puzzle over
the problem out of the book of life which so perplexed
him.

Apparently without reason the thought of Rose con-
tinued to haunt him, and at length made him actually
restless.

“The best thing for me is a good betel walk,” he
said to himself, as he sprang up and found his hat.
“That will put all these ideas out of my head and get
me into condition for a good night’s sleep.”

He was surprised to find that it was almost twelve
o'clock, but that did not deter him, and in three min-
utes he had left the campus and was walking rapidly
along College Street. Turning into Prospect, he passed
the old cemetery, and then, with scarcely a realization
of what he was doing, he swung to his right into
Sachem Street.

As he did so, he gave a sudden exclamation, and,
without hesitation, broke into a swift run.

At the farther end of the street, close to Whitney
Avenue, he saw the mottled, smoky gleam of flames
from a house on the right, saw the dark shadows of
people running to and fro with apparent aimlessness,
and his quick.ear caught the tinkle of shivering glass.

“By Jove!” he muttered, through his clenched teeth.
“T wonder if that’s where Rose rooms?”

The next moment he knew-that it was. Dashing up
to the house he saw that part of the lower floor was a
mass of flames. A dozen people were clustered about
the steps, two of them engaged in turning the puny,
futile stream of a garden hose at the blaze, w hile the

test looked on in helpless bewilderment.

Suddenly Dick caught sight of a young fellow whose
slightly familiar face he thought he had seen on the
campus. He had just come down the steps and was
carrying a bundle wrapped in a sheet. Merriwell
caught him by the shoulder.

“Rose rooms here, doesn’t he?’’ he cried.

The fellow gave a start and neeDyrs the bundle.

“Yes,” he stammered.

“Is he out?’ demanded Dick.

The other looked helplessly around.

“‘T—haven’t seen him,” he faltered.
@ minute ago myself.”

Dick darted a swift glance at the faces of the other
men, plainly visible in the rapidly increasing glare.
Then he turned back to the youth.

“T only got out

“Where are his rooms?” he asked sharply. “Quick!”

99

“Second floor back,” returned the other. “Door at_

What are you

 

:

AR i

 

‘it was probably the best thing he could have done; for

 

WEEKLY.

He was talking to empty air.
the steps,

Dick was already up
and, with one arm shielding his face, he
dashed into the hall and disappeared.

As he entered he took a deep gulp of air and then
held his breath. A dozen steps forward through the
murky, smoky blackness and one hand touched the
stair rail. A glance to his left told him that the flames
had not yet eaten through the heavy folding doors, but .
he knew that it was only a question of minutes before :
they did so.

 

 

 

He must make haste.
‘Taking the stairs three at a time, he reached the
upper hall and fumbled along the wall for the door. It
seemed an interminable time before his fingers touched _
the panels and slipped downward to the knob. Thank ¥
Heaven it yielded to his touch and the door swung
open! ba

 

The room was dense with smoke, for it seemed to be :
directly over the seat of the fire, and Dick knew that |
he could not stand it long here. He took a quick step |
forward and ran into a chair.

“Rose!” he shouted. ‘Rose, are you here?”

There was no answer, and, wasting no further time,
Dick plunged forward through the darkness. He felt
sure that the bedroom must be on his right, so he ys
stumbled forward, feeling along the wall for the door. _ =

Ptesently a veiled gleam from without came through _
a near-by window, and he saw an open door on his
right, as he had hoped. He was about to dash through © ‘ a
it, when his foot struck something on the floor, and, |
glancing swiftly down, he saw a dark form huddled |
close to the wall. 3 f 3 is

It was the body of Rudolph Rose, and Dick felt a
sudden tightening of his throat as he lunged forw ard
and his arms closed about it. .

He did not know whether the boy was alive or dead,
and there was no time to find out now. Clasping the
tall fellow under the arms, he lifted him from the floor’
with amazing strength and turned back to the hall door.

 

 

 

      
     
       
       
            
 
    

How he reached the stairs he never knew. Rose
was very far from being a light weight, and already |
Merriwell' was becoming dizzy from the dense smoke.
3ut presently he staggered out to the head of the stairs
and, missing the first step, plunged head foremost down
the entire length landing i in a heap at the bottom with |
Rose still clasped in his arms. ae

    
       

 
 

  

  

 
    
     
    
  

  

    

  

Happily, beyond a few bruises, he was unhurt, uae :

       

 
 

he had barely time to stagger to his feet and reach
the front door, before the folding doors leading to
the blazing room fell with a crash and the flames she
out across the stairs, effectually barring the way. ‘Had

     
    
        
       
  

Tie

 

he stopped to come down in the ordinary manner he
, would unquestionably have been engulfed in that fiery
furnace.
Outside the crowd had increased. The engines had
just arrived, and there were plenty of eager hands
ready to. relieve Dick of his unconscious burden.
Rose was carried onto a piazza across the street,
where a doctor at once took him in hand. Dick fol-
lowed more slowly, filling his lungs again and again
to their utmost capacity; but it was a long time be-
fore he could rid himself of the biting, smarting tang
of smoke.
He stepped up on the veranda and over to a long,
wicker couch where the doctor was bending over Rose.
“Will he live?” he asked anxiously. “Can you bring
him around?”
-~ The older man looked up.
“Yes, I think so,” he returned.

: close call, though.”
e : Merriwell looked on the
| smudged, blackened, and deathly pale, with a thrill of
pity at the thought of what he must have suffered be-
} fore his senses finally left him. He wondered a little
f how the fellow came to be asleep with all his clothes
| on, and then, suddenly, the long lashes quivered, the
lids slowly lifted, and the blue eyes gazed straight up
into his.
- For a second there was absolutely no expression at
all in them. Then there flickered into them a look of
utter incredulity and disbelief, and the pale lips moved
- as if he were speaking.
J Quickly Dick bent his head down.

“T didn’t die then, after all?”
per.

 

 

“It was a mighty

 

down

 

  

came in a faint whis-

 

- Dick smiled and shook his head.

   
 

“Not a bit of it, Rudie,” he said Cie Palys “You re
much too valuable a man to die just yet.”

    
 

There was,a pause, during which Rose seemed to
gain strength with every long, full breath. All at once
he struggled into a sitting posture and would have
fallen back again had not Dick slipped a supporting
-arm about his shoulder.

   
  
   
   

“How did I get out?’' Rose asked, in a stronger
voice. “Did——”

He stopped abruptly as he seemed to take in for the
first time Merriwell’s blackened face and general dis-
aia appearance. His eyes ae and a very

   
   
  
    
 
 

 

   

TOP

handsome face, '

    

WEEKLY.

I want you for the

“T had to get you out.
you know.”

lessly.
eleven,

To his astonishment, a bright gleam of moisture
flashed into the blue eyes, the lids dropped defendingly,
and presently a tear rolled down the smutty cheek leav-
ing an odd, irregular pathway in its wake.

Merriwell made no comment, nor asked a question.
He had that rare gift of knowing intuitively when to
be silent, and so he waited patiently for what Rose
might choose to say. Presently the words came—
faint, broken, faltering. 3

“You—won’t—want me—when you—know.”

Early the next afternoon Dick Merriwell sat alone
in his rooms at Durfee, waiting. Presently the clock
struck two, and an instant later there came a knock
at the door.

“Come in,” Dick called quickly.

The door swung slowly open, and Rudolph Rose
stepped into the room. His face was rather pale, his
jaw set firmly, and his eyes somber; but apart from
that he showed’no signs of his narrow escape the night
before.

Closing the door behind him, he stood for a sec-
ond, his back against it,-looking' at Merriwell, who
had sprung from his chair and held out his hand.

“Hello, Rudie!”’ he said heartily. ‘“How’s the boy
to-day ?”’

After an instant’s hesitation, the sophomore took
the proffered hand and clasped it tightly.

“T’m all right,” he said slowly, “thanks to you.”

“Sit down,” Dick said cordially.

Then, after Rose was seated, he looked grt
at him.

‘What's the trouble, old fellow?” he asked quickly.
“You've got something on your mind, I know. Get rid
of it, and we'll go over to the field.”

Rose swallowed hard, and then, with a shiver like
a man diving into icy water, he took the plunge.

“I lied to you last night, Merriwell,”’ he said, in a
“T told you I knew nothing about»
I—I was the one who set

low, firm voice.
Kollock. It was all a lie.
him on you.”

In the silen¢ée which followed his words, the ticking
of the clock on the mantel sounded like the strokes of
a hammer. Merriwell’s face hardened a little and his
eyes narrowed.

“Why did you do that?” he asked presently.

“Because you taught Baxter to box,” Rose said —
slowly. “I thought you had put him up to knocking

  
Tif fOr

it sounds pitifully small and mean, I
[ think

You know. I’ve never tried

Oh,

It’s no excuse at all, but it’s all I have.

me out.
know!
{ must have been mad.
to control my temper, and I thought about this so long
that it got to be a regular mania.”

He stopped for an instant, but, as Dick made no re-
mark, he went on again,

“IT knew I stood no chance of knocking you out
fairly, and somebody told me—I learned that Isollock
could teach me how to dislocate a fellow’s arm with a
twist of the wrist. I went to him—learned the trick,
and came back to play on the scrub with the sole idea
of using it on you.”

An odd gleam flashed into the senior’s eyes.

“Why didn’t you?” he asked quickly. “You had a
chance the day you tackled me.”

“T meant to,’ Rose confessed; “but when the time
came I couldn’t, I was furious with myself after-
ward, and I got Kollock to do the dirty work for me.
Wasn’t. that a beastly, cowardly thing? Hire a man
to do. something you're too squeamish to do yourself!
Did you ever know anything worse?”

Again Dick did not answer. His eyes were fixed
keenly on the sophomore’s pale, drawn face.

“IT knew you went to see Tempest,) the latter con-
tinued. “I took Kollock there, and, when you came,
stepped back in the shadow leaving him to do the
work. I heard all you said to him. ivery word
burned into my soul as if you had said them straight
to me, for I deserved them all, and more. I saw my-
self just as I was—small, mean, cowardly; and it
wasn’t a pleasant sight, I can tell you. But never as
long as I live shall I forget what you've done for me,
“Merriwell. . But for you I should have

had begun, and perhaps in eleven years I might have

gone on as |

been just such a beast as Kollock.” | — \
He shuddered and clenched his hand so tightly that
the knuckles showed white through the flesh.
_ “Why did you tell, me this?” Dick asked quietly.
“If you had kept ‘ie I should never have known?”

“Tt. was a lie,” eS ‘couldn’ t
start my new life on a foundation of falsehood. I
didn’t want to, tell you at all.

your friendship, and I knew that the moment I told, I

Rose explained simply,

I wanted your esteem,

WFEKLY.

should have neither. I fought it all out in my room

last night, but before I went to sleep 6n the, couch J

had made'‘up my mind to tell you everything to-day.”
His eyes met Dick’s pleadingly,

> that I had it all

he said wistfully.

“T wish I could make you believe
settled in my mind before the fire,”
“Tt isn’t because you saved my life that I’ve told you.
I should have done that, anyway.” |

‘

Merriwell said nothing. He seemed to be lost in

thought, and, with a little sigh, Rose stood up slowly
and took a step toward the door.

“That's about all, I guess,” he said, in a tired voice.
“T’ll—run—along.”
“What's your hurry?” Dick asked quietly.
The sophomore looked puzzled.
“Only, since I’ve

“No special hurry,” he returned.

finished, I may as well beat it. There can’t be much
pleasure in seeing me around, I should think.”

Merriwell sprang up and reached for his cap.

“If you'll come over tg the garage while I get the
car, we'll go down to the field together,” he reniarked.
Rose gave a gasp, and his eyes widened.

“The field !”

Dick nodded, and a smile curved the corners of his

he exclaimed. “You don’t mean

mouth.
“Of course,” he said quickly. “You're not going a

to give up trying for the varsity, are you?”

THE END.

Next week Mr. Standish gives you a decided novelty.
The story is about Dick Merriwell, of course, and
most of the action takes place in New Haven; but.

you'll be surprised at the new and startling experi-
ences which are thrust upon Dick in the most unex-
pected way. You know, of course, that'a lot of those
clever little people, the Japs, are snooping around all
the time to get important information for their govern-
ment, but you would hardly expect to catch one on
che ¥. ale campus, would yhes we meet a new frien
heer agent of the government. > tel
ing the whole story if we kéep on like this, Don't
called ‘Dick Merriwell, ‘Ametican +o
ae it’ £ ‘No. 758."

miss it. It’s
The Man ne Japan,”

 

 
 

TIP TOP WEEKLY.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

NEW YORK, October 15, 1910,

 

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t Proprietors 79-89 Seventh Avenue, New York City.

Georce C. Smitn,

 

 

EFFECT OF BAD POSITIONS.

_ An erect bodily attitude is of vastly more importance to health
than most people generally imagine.

Crooked bodily positions, maintained for any length of time,
are always injurious, whether in a sitting, standing, or lying
position, whether sleeping or waking.

To sit with the body leaning forward on the stomach or to
one side, with the heels elevated on a level with the hand, is not
only in bad taste, but exceedingly detrimental to health.

It cramps the stomach, presses the vital organs, interrupts the
free motion of the chest, and enfeebles the functions of the ab-
dominal and thoracic organs, and, in fact, unbalances the whole
muscular system.

Many young people become slightly humpbacked or severely
round-shouldered by sleeping with the head raised on a high

pillow.
\

ON, BEING PATIENT.

Peter Cooper, who was a millionaire several times over, and
_ who had made money in many different businesses, used to say
_ that of ten men who knew a good thing when they saw it, only
_ about one would have patience enough to hold on to it until it
had paid all it would.

_ If you will look around at the various great businesses of
which you chance to know something, you will see that, Mr.
Cooper didn’t put the case too strongly. “Making allowance for
all sales that have had to be made, because the cost of “holding,”
or “developing” property, or business, was more than the owner
could stand, the fact remains that nearly every notable money-
making enterprise has changed hands from time to time, because
“successive owners preferred a little profit quickly to a gyeat
Profit that had to be waited for.
“Quick sales and small profits” is a first-rate rule for a man
who keeps a store and sells goods which can be replaced from day
to day, but it would be idiotic if applied to a promising enter-
Prise which had been discovered only after long search.
_ Even down in Wall Street, where the sharpest of sharp men
are supposed to congregate, you can listen all day long to moans
r sales made long ago, of , interests in mines, railroads,
ches, mills, newspapers, and inventions that have since become
nanzas, as the moaners were sure they would. They were not
old because the owners needed the money—it was only because
there was not enough patience to hold them and work them for
ll they were worth.
_Not everybody has a thousand dollars with which to Bay some-
ling, of which his common sense, backed by. his business ex-
erience, ‘approves, but the value of patienge is proved as well
small investments as large ones.

A Short Story by Your Favorite Author.

THE, CLOWN’S STORY.
' By BURT L. STANDISH.

“Circus life ain’t what it used to be,” declared the old clown,
with a mournful shake of his head. “The big three-ring shows
like Barnum & Bailey’s and Forepaugh’s have driven the small
concerns to the wall and changed the taste of the public who
patronize circuses. And do you know,” he added soberly, “I
believe people enjoyed the old-fashioned one-ring show more
than they do the big, razzledazzle affairs of to-day. There is so
much going on that the ‘spectator can’t see one half of it, and
he is in constant agony lest he miss the best acts.”

I fully agreed with him, and, having succeeded in getting hint
fairly started, it did not ‘take me long to work an interesting
story from his lips. I give it in his own language, as nearly as b
can remember:

“T took a dislike to Dalgren the day we left winter quarters
and started on the road. He was-the principal in the great
trapeze act done in the very crown of the tent at the close of
each performance. His assistant was a little slip of a girl who
did not seem more than fourteen years old, although it was said
she had passed sixteen. We called her Amy, but on the bills she
was known as ‘Mademoiselle Ariel, the Winged Fairy of the
Air,’ and was supposed to be the daughter of ‘Monsieur Valdon,
the Wonder of the Century,’ who in the dressing tent was simply
Dave Dalgren.

“The man and girl were not, related in any way, and when
they were not performing together, Amy avoided him as much as
she could, seeming to fear him for some reason. There was not
a drop of Sesnths blood in the veins of either, for all of the way
they were billed.

“Amy was an orphan, her mother having been killed beneath
the feet of her own horses in the ring twoyyears before. She.
was one of the most daring and venturesome riders I ever saw,
being a pioneer in the trick or riding six horses; but she made a
miscalculation one day, and when she fell, the hoofs of one
horse fractured her skull.

“Despite the fact that she was all alone in the world, Amy
was always lively and full of mirth except when the time for
doing her turn approached. She seemed to have nerve enough,
but it was Dalgren who oppressed and frightened her.

“I was a young fellow in those days, but I was already well
known as a clown. I took a great fancy to Amy, and there came
a time when I used to shudder as I saw the child, dressed in pink
tights and blue trunks, go up the rope to the waiting man, who
swayed as carelessly om the great trapeze as if he were reclining
in a hammock.

“Dalgren had refused to have a net spread beneath him, saying
it would rob his act of its effectiveness. To me it seemed a
fearful thing to thus imperil two human lives, when a net
would have saved broken bones in case of a fall.

“The great trick of the act was called “The Leap for Life.
Amy stood on a slight support at the very topmost point of the
tent and, spreading some gauzy wings, launched herself through
the air for twenty feet to be skillfully caught by Dalgren, who
was swinging back and forth, hanging head downward from the
trapeze. A miscalculation would send her down to the ground,
and not even the cushion of sawdust could save her from oon
bones and probable fatal injuries.

“Noung as the girl was, a rider by the name of Davis was in
love with her, and desperately in love, at that. I am not sure she
encouraged him, but I am certain he was in earnest and meant
to marry the girl, if she would have him.

“Dalgren was.also in love with Amy, and he was a jealous
and revengeful dog, a man with very little conscience. The evi-
dent aversion of the girl for him’ made him furious, and, one
day, there was a scene in the dressing tent, for he attempted to
kiss her, and when she called for help Davis ran in and knocked
Dalgren down. There was a savage fight for a few minutes,
and Davis proved more than a match for the ‘Wonder of the
ee They were parted, but ax Dalgren turned away, he
snarle "

“*You think you'll have her! Well, we'll see!
sorry, sure as there is a heaven!’

“I heard the threat, and I did not doubt the wretch would
keep his word. I tried to induce Amy to give up her act with
him, but she would not hear of it, and that night the tragedy
came.

“We were doing a great busin@§s, and the tent was packed, /

I’ll make you

 
habit of wearing.

were the proportions and build of the man.

perfect that even human beings might I have mistaken the Ronee
up ee: the Rrgnase

 

ih OE

I capered, and tumbled, and sprung the old gags until the audi-
ence roared, but all the time my heart was filled with a sense of
coming disaster. As the time for thé trapeze act approached, I
positively grew nervous.

“The act was announced, and Dalgren ran out and bowed to
right and left. He was a perfectly built man, and got consider-
able applause from the spectators, after which he went up to
his bar.

“*The Winged Fairy of the Air,’ called the ringmaster.

Mr Ob: BILD yes, sir, I cried, flappit ig my arms and crowing
like a rooster. ‘I’m tight here, sir. Boys, bring out my wings.

“Then came another round of applause as Amy bounded like a
deer into the ring, kissing her hands to the people. A moment
later she was going up the rope, and my blood was like water!
in my veins.

“The performance went off smoothly, and the people stared
and gasped as the performers twisted and turned and did their
simpler tricks. At last came the ‘Leap for Life,’ and every
sound was hushed in the tent, the blaring band having ceased
to play.

“Amy really looked like a fairy as she stood on the narrow
platform away up in the top of the tent and smiled down at
the people, her gauzy wings being spread for the flight. Dalgren
swung to and fro on the bar, and I fancied there was a devilish
look on his face., All at once he turned over the bar and hung
head downward, his muscular arms outstretched.

““Now!’

““Boom !’ went the big brass drum, and Amy shot like a bird
through the air, her’ hands outstretched toward Dalgren’s.

“The dastard had planned it all so craftily that it really seeme
a’slight miscalculation, for their fingers came within a quarter of
an inch of touching. But they missed! And a great cry of
anguish broke from the ‘spectators as the poor girl went shooting
down to the sawdust!

“No one had noticed Davis as he took a position at a certain
point beneath the aérial performers, but he was there, and he
had chosen exactly the right spot. He stretched out his arms
and caught Amy fairly. Both went down in a heap and lay
still, senseless.

“Then there was some excitement around that tent. Amy and
Davis were quickly carried out and a physician summoned. The
girl opened her eyes in a short time, and, to the delight of every
one, she did not seem injured at all, save for the terrible shock.

“Davis had not escaped so easily, for two of his ribs were
broken, and the doctor said he might be injured internally. He
was in terrible pain, but his first question on recovering was of
Amy, and he smiled when he saw her at his side.

“In the excitement Dalgren had been forgotten, and when we
looked for him he had disappeared. I am inclined to believe we
should have lynched him had we placed our hands on him then.
He got out of town some way, and | did not see or hear of
him again for three years. I wish I. could tell you that some
just retribution overtook the wretch, but this is a thue story,
and the facts are that he kept on in his business and made
money until he died comfortably in bed of typhoid fever.

“The show had to go on without the trapeze act, for Amy
stayed behind to nurse Davis. If she had not cared for him be-
fore, she did after he so bravely saved her life, and she married
him the following year. He learned the trapeze act, and they
did the trick together for years, but always with a safe net
beneath them. They were called the most graceful and original
performers in their line, and they drew a good salary, which, as
Davis was prudent, enabled them to retire before the inevitable
accident ended their careers.
lieve both are alive to-day, their home being: somewhere in Con-
necticut.”

I did not regret the time spetit in working this story from the
old clown’s lips.

ease amen need

LION TAMING MADE EASY.

‘A certain German tamer of wild beasts always entered the
cage dressed in a “loud” Hungarian costume, with large top
- boots.
and cowered down in a corner, whence they were with difficulty
dislodged. It was evident that the very sight of him inspired
them with terror, How was it done? Bs
His plan has at least the merit of being original. He obtained
8 lay fi igure, which he dressed up in the costume he was in the
The very: ‘features were eet imitated, as
The disguise was so

Amy made a good wife, and I be-

The moment he appeared the lions fell back in terror:

WEEKLY.

The figure was introduced into the. cage and made to stand
upright, but after a while it was knocked over, when with a-
bound the lions rushed with open jaws on their prey.

Suddenly they began to howl, with pain, and withdrew to a
corner with bleeding mouths and tongues. The tmannikin was
covered all over with iron spikes concealed under the brilliant
uniform, Twice the tamer tried this experiment; the lions did
not move the second time. He then commenced his course of .
training, attired iin a ¢costtime similar to that of the wooden
figure, though he had never entered a cage before.

A QUEER LITTLE MESSENGER,

Two burglars who had been caught and put into prison man-
aged to send notes to one another by a beetle. Their cells joined
each other, and there was a little crack which led under the
wall between them. One of the prisoners noticed a beetle going
down this crack, and wondering whether it led to his comrade’s
cell, he caught the insect and fastened a note to one of its wings.
Then he put it into the crack, and sure enough it made its way
to the next cell. The other prisoner noticed the piece of paper
tied to its wing, and after reading the note, sent back an an-
swer. The prisoners fed the beetle every day, and it soon be-
came quite accustomed to running from one cell to the other with
a piece of paper tied onto it. They made plans to escape in this
way, but one day a jailer saw the beetle and read the note it
carried, and was able to put a stop to their plans.

HIS CERTIFICATE,

Public men are often at their wit’s end to avoid people who
seek their influence to carry out new enterprises, or. to further.
their personal interests. .A prominent politician in an evil hour
bought some corn plasters of an agent who was selling them —
from door to door. He was seated one day in his study in the —
midst of notes for a debate, when a shy, cadavérous man was —
shown in. Thinking the lank stranger might be either from the
rural districts, or possibly a constituent, the politician received —
him with his most genial air. i

“Good morning, sir. I called to see if I could get yer certificate ,
for them corn plasters you bought of my agent the other day.” >

“Why, sir, I do not understand you.

“Merely a certificate, fur benefits derived from my corn
plasters.”

“Oh—ah—yes. » I
statesmi in wrote:

“To whom it may concern, this is to certify that if I live long
enough I shall be a thousand years old next July. For one hun-
dred and seventy-five years, more or less, I have been an invalid,
unable to move except by a lever. The day before yesterday I
bought a box of Barker’s corn plasters. Since then can run
twenty miles an hour. Any man who believes this, and wishes —
further recommendations, will gladly be supplied, if this corn
doctor lives to get out of my office.”

The man of corn plasters took it in silence and departed.

understand; certainly,

and the : Y

certainly,”

PATIENT WAITERS.

The Greenlanders’ mode of life has accustomed them to ta
things as they come. If they find nd game, they know how to g
hungry, and in their relations with each other and with Europeans
they manifest the same astounding patience.

I would see them in the morning standing by the hour in the
passage of the colonial manager’s house, ot waiting in the snow
outside his door, to speak to him of his assistant, who happened

* to be otherwise engaged.

They had probably some little business to transact with t
officials before starting for their homes, often many miles. iy
the colony, and it might be of the greatest importance to them
get away a8 soon as possible. If the weather happened to look
threatening, evety minute would be more than precious; but there
they: would stand waiting, as neers as ever, and to all
pearance as indifferent.

If I asked them if they Were going to start, they only an-
sWered: “I don’t know. Perhaps, if the weather doesn't
worse,” of something to that effect; but I never once eee hy
smallest murmur of impatience.

The following occurrence, for which my informant vou hes
illustrates this side of their character:

An inspector at Godthaab sent a boat’s crew into the Am
Fiord to mow grass for his goats. They remained a long

away, and no one could understand what had become. of

 

 
 

The? TOP

At last they returned, and when the inspector asked why

they had
been so long, they answered that when they

got to the place

the grass was too short, so they had to settle down and wait till
it grew.

WHAT HE DID.

The blunders of carvers are historic. One of the most amus-
ing specimens chiefly concerns a spruce young lawyer, who led
a blushing damsel as a bride from her rural home, and returned
with her to the hospitable mansion of her father-in-law to enjoy
the Christmas festival.

He was called upon to carve., The turkey was overdone, and
was somewhat tough withal. The spruce young lawyer strug-
gled with it, but the bird wouldn’t yield.

An enormous pudding stood beside the turkey, and was in the
lawyer's way. Finally he took up the pudding dish and placed
it in his chair behind him, and then renewed the attack on the
turkey with double vigor.

His face was red with effort and embarrassment,
streamed with perspiration—but still he struggled.
made a tremendous effort, and succeeded—in

his glasses
At last he
launching the

impervious bird onto the other side of the table.

~in church.

“There,” he said, in despair, “now I’ve done it!”—and sat down
in the pudding!

A RING LOST AND FOUND,

A prominent man tells of a queer experience he had losing a
ring. He first noticed that it was gone one morning when he was
He glanced down at his hand and it was not there.
As it was a valuable one, he did considerable hunting when he
got home, but without avail. He gave it up as gone. The next
mofrhing at his store he spied the ring on the selfsame finger
from which he had lost it. The explanation of this somewhat
mysterious ‘episode is easy. The ring fitted loosely upon the finger,
and when the gentleman went home Saturday night he wore a
pair of gloves, which he took off and did not put on again until
Monday morning. The ring must have remained-in the finger of
_ the glove, and have been restored when that article was.next put

A DOG’S SAGACITY.

An officer of the Forty-fourth Regiment who had occasion,
when in London, to pass one of the bridges across the Thames,

had his boots, which had been previously well polished, dirtied by

a poodle dog rubbing against them.
'a man who was stationed on the bridge, and had them cleaned.

¥

He, in consequence, went to

‘The same citctumstance having occurred more than once, his

: Curiosity was excited, and he watched the dog.

Hé saw him roll himself in the mud of the river, and then

_ watch for’a person with well-polished boots, against which he
contrived to rub himself.

_ Finding that the shoeblack was the owner of the dog, he taxed
im with the artifice; and after a little hesitation he confessed
that he had taught the dog the trick in order to procure cus-
tomers for himself.
- The officer, being much struck with the dows sagacity, pur-
chased him at a high price, and took him to Y ork.
tied up in York some time, and then released him, The dog re-
mained with him a day or two, and then made his escape..
A fortnight afterward he was found with his former mastér
ursuing his old trade on the bridge.
vf

THE BLAZING BOTTLE OF WINE.

Cause a tinsmith to make for you a tin bottle, with a tube in-
fide. running through to the bottom, where it is open. Fill your
ottle with wine, and pour out one-half \of the wine; then place
on the table, and, by aid of a confederate, or otherwise, intro-
duce a piece of fireworks into the interior tube through the hole
in the bottom, a Roman candle being the best. Set fire to the
fireworks, and the flame seems to come from the bottle’s mouth.
hen extinct, pour out the rest of the wine, and the effect will

: surprising.

vy

SMALLEST RACE OF PEOPLE,

The inhabitants of the Andaman Islands are the smallest race

f people in the world taken as a whole. The average height of

full grown Andaman is 3 feet 11 inches, and the average weight

s than 70 pounds. They are very warlike, and, as they throw

oned spears with marvelous accuracy, it is not at all strange
travelers do not care to encounter them.

He kept him~

. Top”

WEEKLY.
APPLAUSE.

Stories Teach Him to Be Manly.

[ like “Tip Top” because it is one of the best weeklies I have
ever read, and because it is written by Burt L. Standish, whose
stories teach you to be manly. It has helped me in many ways
since I commenced reading them. I don’t smoke or try to pick up
fights, and I try to keep others from it. I hope I shall go to col-
lege and be like Frank. I have been telling others about: “Tip
Top” so. much that*nearly all the boys in the neighborhood sub-
scribe to them weekly or buy them here.

Memphis, Tenn. HAMILTON ‘SELLERS.
Frank’s Marriage in Medal Library No. 587, Out Sep-

tember 27.

I take this opportunity to tell you how much I like the “Tip
Top Weekly” and the Medal Library. Although I am not a
regular subscriber, I have read a good many of both, and the
stories have done me a great deal of good. I have been reading
them for several yeagS, and have found them the best stories
published, because they are doing so much to build up the
physical and moral strength of American youths. Before I
began to read these books on the adventures of Frank and Dick
Merriwell, I looked upon most sports as rough and brutal, and
would take no part in them, thus winning the contempt of a good
many of my boy friends, but now I am glad to say that I
have got quite a different idea of these sports. I can now
piay several games quite well. I had a perfect horror of boxing,
but now I can use my hands to good effect, and find that by
being able to do so I keep out of a great many difficulties. I
certainly do like the “manly art,” and give the credit for all I
know to the writings of Mr. Standish. The characters that I like
most are Frank, Dick, Bart, Bruce, Harry, Jack, and Brad. May
they ever live in Mr. Standish’s mind, and may he ever ee
to write of them for the boys of America. As to the girls, I like
Inza, Elsie, and June. I have got quite a few of my boy friends,
that had never read them before, to reading these stories. One —
boy in particular, who always read a great deal, used to laugh at
the Merriwell stories, and say that he never could see anything
of interest to read in them; but I finally got him to read one of
the books, and ever since then he has been a constant reader. I
doubt if this long letter will ever be published, but I just had to
give vent to my feelings somehow, and I hope to see this in
print soon. Please tell me in what number of the Medal Library
Frank gets married. Harry GRupps.

Savannah, Ga.

Much Benefit Derived from Reading “Tip Top.”

Allow me to join in with the other enthusiastic readers in

ot ; 7 5 ‘ . .
praising the king of weeklies. I have just read No. 744. This
makes five hundred and twelve copies I have enjoyed. Burt L.’s
writings certainly stand high and make “Tip Top” one of the’
best/of all weeklies. It has a large sale in my home town, all of
my friends read it and derive much benefit from doing so.

Somerville, Mass. - FF. W. JoHNSTON.

“Tip Top” a Favorite With all Who Read It.

Seeing so few letters of Applause from the Badger State, i
think it my duty to let it be known that we have more red- hot
admirers in my neighborhood, of the summit of all weeklies, “Tip
Top,” than you could beat elsewhere. We are sure that Burt L.

' Standish is the author of some of the most interesting stories
that have ever been published for boys. I have read every “Tip
thus far published, getting the first two hundred copies
from an old soldier, who used to read them. He is now blind,
and I find great pleasure it reading them to him now. I haye
been proud of my work thus far in spreading the reading of
“Tip Top Weekly.” Two brothers,
six of my boy friends, two girl friends, and their parents, are
reading “Tip Top” at my suggestion. We have all pledged our-
selves never to smoke, drink, or swear, and it has made us a
more polite set of young people than fottherly.. ) My best Wishes
for sticcess to the author, editor, and publishers. /

Milwaukee, Wis. : Groxce A, Boru Me.

“Tip Top”? the Best Weekly for Boys. a

I like “Tip Top” because it is a clean/ manly paper, with good
stories in it, and the principal characters are
It is the best weekly for boys ever published. If ows I have

children I'll get the “Tip Top” for them.
Chase ay. Va. Harry Pura, Ja

 

mother, father, a boarder, —

ine, manly fellows, ~—
TIP: TOP

Talks with your chum
Chef Podionse

 

oss

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.

 

 

Systematic Exercise Reduces Weight.

Pror. FourmMeN: My measurements are: Age, 18;
feet 2 inches; weight, in street clothes, 140° pounds;
inches ; forearms, 10% inches; chest, 3544 inches; neck, 14%
inches; calf, 15 inches ; thigh, 214%4 inches; waist, normal, 30
inches. I should like to be a little taller. My legs are short and
muscular. Can you suggest a method of lengthening them? ee

J. dota

plenty of sleep tend to increase the height?

Brooklyn, N. Y.

We can suggest nothing to lengthen your legs; but it is pos-
sible you may grow taller within the next few years, as you have
not yet reached your full growth. Try to reduce your weight by
regular and systematic exercise. Go to some gymnasium or get
“Frank Merriwell’s Book of Atheletic Development.” It will
give you some good advice about exercise and diet. It is a
popular belief that plenty of sleep helps young children to grow;

a sufficient amount is necessary and beneficial to everybody,
but too much sleep makes a boy sluggish and slow.

What Should Influence Choice of Trade.
Pror. FourRMEN:

, height, 5
biceps, 12%

I have worked at the machinist and printing
trades, but for various reasons had to stop. Which of these two
trades do-you consider the best to work at? Now, which would
you advise me to do-+to get a place as bookkeeper or stenographer
in some firm, or to finish learning one of these trades?

McKeesport, Pas ® CHARLES Hason.

The choice between the two trades you mention must be left
to your personal preference. If you like the printing trade better
‘than the other we would advise you to select it. Success comes
to men in consideration of their spécial faculties, rather than in
consequence of the particular line which they follow. Local
circumstances should not be without their influence in your choice.
Can you secure employment readily in either of the trades indi-
cated? McKeesport is a manufacturing centre, but has it printing
_ offices where your services will be in demand? These sugges-
tions deserve your careful consideration before you come to an
ultimate decision in the matter, and we believe that by becoming
master of a trade your chances for future success are far greater
than they would be if you took up bookkeeping or stenography.
Besides, they are far more manly.

Exercise Regularly and With Deep Breathing.

months old; my weight
treisht, 5 feet 9% inches;
w aist, 30 inches;

Pror. Fourmen: I am 19 years and 3
is 144 pounds. My mégasurements are:
chest, normal, 32 inches; expanded, 37 inches;
hips, 36 inches; thighs, 21 inches; calves, 13)4 inches; biceps,
normal, 1014 inches; flexed, -12 inches; bea 10% inches;
’ wrist, 64 inches ; neck, 15 inches; breadth of shoulders, 1814
inches ; reach, 72 inches. How are my measurements?

Portsmouth, O. Ep BLAKE.

You need to build up about ten pounds more in weight. Your
chest measurement is several inches shy, and your waist is too
- large. For you I should suggest walking, running, and dumb-bell
’ ‘ ‘

WEEKLY.

exercise. Systematic practice with dumb-bells will bring into
play almost every muscle of the body. Do not overdo at first,
but keep up your exercises regularly. In beginning your exer-
cises there are two things to bear in mind. Stand erect, and be-
fore beginning any work draw a long, deep breath. Breathe from
the abdomen, so that the lower parts of the lungs are expanded.
Eat nourishing food and shun tobacco and alcohol.

Work With an Object in View.

Pror. FourMEN: I am eightgen years. old, and have worked
nearly ten years for a railroad as a night telegraph operator. I
also mend shoes during the night, as ay have a lot of time to
spare, which increases my salary about $15 a month. Now, a
friend of mine has tried to get me to give up mending shoes daa
get a better education ; that is, to study nights instead of ee
shoes. I don’t know what to do. I like $15, and I also would 1
to get a better education. Will you please give me bi advice?

Cincinnati, O. . CARTER.

You have asked me a most difficult question to decide, and one
which I scarcely like to answer. I don’t want to tell you to give
up the fifteen dollars a month which you are now earning, and
yet I do think you could be spending your time more advan-
tageously, perhaps. Even if you were laying aside each month
the extra money which you are now earning, still the education
you would gain in that time, if you earnestly and conscientiously
applied yourself, would undoubtedly be to you far better capital to
work upon in the future. But don’t work with no object in view.
It is better to be a master of one trade than a jack of all. There
must be some special trade or profession in which you are par- |
ticularly interested. Read and study with a view to perfect your-—
self in that. Go to the brightest and best educated man you

know, explain to him your ambition, and ask him to advise you as_
to the course and scope of your studies.

Newspaper Work for Young Men. f

Please let me know to whom I should ane
. Foster.

Pror. FouRMEN:
for a position as reporter on a newspaper. D.
Gloucester, Mass.

When a young man is settled in a good business, I do not advise
him to give it up for newspaper work; but on the other hand, if a
young man has a special liking for newspaper work, I rather en-
courage him. It is not a gold field, however, but plenty of hard |
and interesting work for the bright youth who starts in with a
firm determination to succeed. There is no other business where
the combination of integrity, industry, and loyalty are so essential
to success as in newspaper work. Reporters, who rough it, that
is, not on the regular staff, make from $10 to $100 a week, ac-
cording to their ability. Some people would say according to
luck or accident, but I think that a reporter who cannot bring
in more than $10 a week ought to give up the fiseaee and go
learn a trade where a different kind of brain work is\required.
If you are not acquainted with any of the people connected wit
the large daily papers in the big cities, the only way to secure an
engagement on the paper is to keep your wits about you, and
when an-event of startling nature happens in your vicinity, write
it up andstelegraph the most likely paper that you have a good
descriptive article which they can make use of at their ow ‘
price. . aes

Ta Strengthen the Back.

Pror. FourMEN: What is the best way to strengthen the hanks
New York. ArtHur R. Dissrow.

te

A simple exercise to strengthen. the back is to lie flat on the
floor and rise to a sitting position without the aid of the hands,
and without lifting the feet from the floor. Do not overtitr
yourself at first, but continue this exetcise daily until you cat
do it easily and naturally, without fatigue, twenty-five —
succession.

 

 
 

Tip Top Baseball Tournament for 1910 Is On

 

 

CONTEST CLOSES OCTOBER 15

PLAY BALL AND WIN A CLUB OUTFIT

 

 

‘

It's up to you, boys, to land the prizes.
Get after them. Do your best.

Make the scores that will put you in right for
first or second place.

 

 

The rules of the contest for 1910 differ somewhat from those of
Beka last year. Read all about it in the form below:

 

 

ie

PLAYER’S CERTIFICATES.

N fairness -to all the clubs that enter this contest, and that
I there may be no doubt as to whom the prizes should go, ‘Tre
Top has decided to require a certificate from each member of
the tine as well as the Club Certificate: Below is the coupon
which eacli member should cut ont, 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 game,
“the score and the name of the winner.

PLAYER’S CERTIFICATE.
, a TIP TOP BASEBALL TOURNAMENT FOR 1910.
ac “This is to certify that I have played in the game between the

 

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“ON seck anneal nnn ncnn ene cece en etennenensenensaeecasecens and that the score

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WRB cas pennvneennergee ae REA Iie: Feet OR ath cn cuceee saad meen Kewanee

hb Ee TNE waded ted aa aes pe w= ty 5% Ctra)

 

 

 

TO DECIDE A TIE.

ould there be a tie, in runs and games played, of two. or more clubs in the highest-

@ class, such tie will be decided by the batting and fielding record of the tied clubs.

The one having the best record in that respect will be declared the winner. The captains
of competing teams are advised, therefore, to preserve the general, or detailed score, of
‘every game played, ‘but not to send it to Tip TOP with the Club Certificate, You will be
called: upon for the general score only in case your club should be one of those in a tie.

CONDITIONS OF CONTEST.

HE 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
haying 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, must be sent to the editor of
Tre Top. The manager must see to it, also, 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 Tip Tops,
to sign the Club Certificate on the line printed at the bottom.
When possible, send in newspaper accounts of the games. No
notice will be taken of any score not entered on a Club Certifi-
cate cut out of Tre Tor; nor will any notice be taken of a score
not accompanied by a signed Player’s Certificate for every
member of the nine. |

 

LUB CERTIFICATE

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“Newsdealer or Postmaster Signs Here,.icccssecsccsssvccccnecccceccccsnccsesenssssacescceassenesessssasssseeees sees

1910—TIP TOP BASEBALL TOURNAMENT—1910

POSITION.
Pitcher

Catcher
Ist Base
2d Base
3d Base

R. Field
¢. Field
L. Field
OO FINAL, SCORE cociccadesusddgaters Ze MANAQER. <oiyessey2tsh

NAMES OF TEAM,

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SERRE HERO HORE EEE OT HEHE REOOe

\

 

 

 
ALL, OF THE BACK NUMBERS OF

TIP TOP WEEKLY

THAT CAN NOW’ BE SUPPLIED

 

 

241—Frank Merriwell’s Kick.
242—Frank Merriwell’s High Jump 5
ee Merriwell’s “Brassie”

Sho
pa5—Frank Mterriwel! 8

246—Frank Merriwell’s Mastery.
247—Frang Merriwell’s Dilemma.
249—F rank Merriwell’s Search.
250—Frank Merriwell’s Ring.
251—Frank Merriwell’s Party.
2538—Frank Merriwell’s Skill.
254—Frank Merriwell’s Club.
255—Frank Merriwell’s Scheme.
et nee pia ell’s Mysteri-

Mov

257—Frank Merriwell’ s Hand.
258—Frank Merriwell’s Suspicion.
259—F rank Merriwell’s Trust.
261—Frank  Merriwell’s

Friend.
262—F rank Merriwell Deceived.
2638—Frank Merriwell in Form.
438—Dick Merriwell’s “Phantom.”
467—Dick Merriwell in Egypt.
469—Frank Merriwell’s Retalia-

tion
485—Dick Mertiweil in Manila.
486—Dick Merriwell Marooned,
487—Dick Merriwell’s Comrade.
488—Dick Merriwell, Gap-Stopper.
Soe oiee 3 Merriwell’ 8 Sacrific e Hit
491—Dick Merriwell’ s Stroke.

492—Dick Merriwell Shadowed.

493—Dick Merriwell’s Drive.
494—Dick Merriwell’s Return.
495—Dick Merriwell’s Restoration.
496—Dick Merriwell’s Value.
497—Dick Merriwell’s “Dukes.”
498—Dick Merriwell’s Drop Kick.
499—Dick Merriwell’s Defeat.
500—Dick Merriwell’s Chance.
501—Dick Merriwell’s Stride.
502—Dick Merriwell’s Wing-Suit.
503—Dick Merriwell’s Skates.
504—Dick Merriwell’s Four Fists.
505—Dick Merriwell’s Dashing 5

Game.
506—Frank Merriwell’s Tigers.
Regi at sere Treasure

/ 508—Frank
Fear.
509-——Dick Merriwell in Maine,
510—Dick Merriwell’s Polo Team.
511—Dick Merriwell in the Ring.
§12—Frank Merriwell’s New Idea.
518—Frank Merriwell’s Trouble.
514—Frank Merriwell’s Pupils.
515—Dick Merriwell’s Satisfaction f
oe. Merriwell’s . Discern- !

517—Dick _,Mortiwell’s
Han

518—Frank “Merriwel!’ s New Boy.
519—F rank Merriwell’s Mode,
520—Frank Merriwell’s Aids. (
p21—Dick Merriwell’s Visit.
22—-Dick Merriwell’s Retaliation.
593—Dick Merriwell’s Rival.
Ore eee: Merriwell’s
rew
/ 525—Frank Merriwell’s Fast Nine.
Pa ee Merriwell’s Athletic

eld.
597—Dick Merriwell’s Reprisal.
§28—Dick Merriwell Dared.
529—Dick Merriwell’s Dismay.
§30—Frank Merriwell’s Son.
531—Frank Merriwell’s Old Flock.
5382—Frank Merriwell’s House

Party.
53883—Dick  Merriwell’s

‘eam.
_5384—Dick Merriwell’s Demand.
535—Dick Merriwell’s Slabmate.
536—Frank  Merriwell’s Summer
Camp.

DPntertain-

Bosom 5

Y emwalite Flying

Friendly

Young

Summer

537—F rank Merriwell’s Proposal.
538—Frank Merriwell’s' Spook-
hunters.
589—Dick Merriwell’s Cheek.
540—Dick Merriwell’s Sacrifice.
541—Dick Merriwell’s Heart.
542—F'rank Merriwell’s New Auto.
543—Frank Merriwell’s Pride.
544—Frank Merriwell’s Young
Winners.
545—Dick Merriwell’s Lead.
546—Dick Merriwell’s Influence.
547—Dick Merriwell’s Top Notch.
548—Frank Merriwell’s Kids.
549—Frank Merriwell’s Kodakers.
550—Dick Merriwell, Freshman.
551—Dick Merriwell’s Progress.
552—Dick Merriwell, Half-back.
553—Dick Merriwell’s Resentment.
554—Dick Merriwell Repaid.
555—Dick Merriwell’s Staying
Power.
558—Dick Merriwell’s “Push.”
557—Dick Merriwell’s Running.
558—Dick Merriwell’s Joke.
559—Dick Merriwell’s Seven.
560—Dick Merriwell’s Partner,
5661—Diek Merriweil in the Tank.
562—Frank Merriwell’s Captive.
563—Frank Merriwell’s Trailing.
564—Frank Merriwell’'s Talisman.
565—Frank Merriwell’s Horse.
566—Frank Merriwell’s Intrusion.
567—Frank Merriwell'’s Bluff.
568—Dick Merriwell’s Regret.
569—Dick Merriwell’s Sent Work.
570—Dick Merriwell’s Arm.
1—Dick Merriwell’s Skill.

—Dick Merriwell’s Magnetism.
3—Dick Merriwell’s System.

— Dick Mer riwell’s Salvation.
—Dick Merriwell’s Twirling.
—Dick Merriwell’s Party.

—Dick Merriwell’s Backers.
—Dick Merriwell’s Coach.
9—Dick Merriwell’s Bingle.
)—Dick Merriwell’s Hurdling.
1 Dick Merriwell’s Best Work.
82—Dick Merriwell's Respite.
re k Merriwell’s ieee ae
tage.
4—-Dick Merriwell Beset.
585—Dick Merriwell’s Great Rival.
586—Dick Merriwell’s Distrust.
587—Dick Merriwell, L ion-Tamer.
588—Dick Merriwell’s C amp- site.
589—Dic k Merriwell’s Debt.
590—Dick Merriwell’s Camp-Mates
591—Dick Mer riw ell’s Draw.
592—Dic k eet riwell’s Wisapproval.
598-—Dick Merriwell’s Mastery.
594—Dick Merriwell’s Warm Work
595—Dic k Mer riwell’s “Double
Squeeze.’

596—Dick Mer riwell’ $s Vanishing.
597- —Dick Merriwell Adrift.
598—Dick Merriwell s Influence,
599—F rank Merriwell’s W orst Boy.
600—Frank Merriwell’s Annoyance ¢
601—Frank Merriwell’s Restraint.
602—Dick Merriwell Held ‘Back.
603-——Dick Merriwell in the Line.
604—Dick Merriwell’s Drop Kick.
605—F Pym Merriwell’s Air Voy-

606-—Frank Merriwell’s Auto Chase,
607—Frank Merriwell’s Captive.
608-—Dick Merriwell’s Value.
609—Dick Merriwell D6ped.
610—Dick Merriwell’s "Be lief.
611—Frank Merriwell in the Mar-

ket.
612—Frank Merriwell’s Fight for
Fortune.
613—Frank Merriwell on Top.
614—Dick Merriwell’s Trip West.
615—Dick Merriwell’s Predicament
616—Dick Merriwell in Mystery
Valley.

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on
618—Frank Merriwell Perplexed.
619—Frank Merriwell’s Suspicion.
620—Dick Merriwell’s Gallantry.
621—Dick Merriwell’s Condition.
622—Dick Merriwell’s Stanchness.
62: 3—Dick Merriwell’s Match.
624—F rank Merriwell’s Hard Case Friends,
625—-Frank Merriwell’s Helper. oS ae Merriwell at Phantom
626—Frank Merriwell’s Doubts. Lake.
627—Frank Merriwell’s “Phenom.” 699—Frank Merriwell’s Hold-back.
628—Dick Merriwell’s Stand. 700—Frank Merriwell’s Lively
629—Dick Merriwell’s Circle.
630—Dick Merriwell’s Reach.
631—Dick Merriwell’s Money.
632—Dick Merriwell Watched.
683—Dick Merriwell Doubted.
634—Dick Merriwell’s Distrust. oe ane eee! s Freshman
6385—Dick Merriwell’s Risk.
636—Frank Merriwell’s Favorite. 705—Dick Morriwell’s Best Form.
687—Fr ae _ riwell’s Young 706—Dick Merriwell’s Prank.
707—Dick Merriwell’s Gambol.
638—Frank Y Mertiwell’s Steadying 708—Dick Merriwell’s Gun.
Ha 709-——Dick Merriwell at His Best.
639—F pani |Merriwell’s Record- 710—Dick Merriwell’s Master Mind |
Breakers. 711—Dick Merriwell’s Dander. :
640-—-Dick Merriwell’s Shoulder. 712—Dick Merriwell’s Hope.
641—Dick eee ome Desperate 713—Dick Merriwell’s Standard.
Work 714—Dick Merriwell’s Sympathy.
642—Dick Merriwell’s enc ar 71 eee Merriwell
648—Dick . Merriwell Gale’s

Ferry. 716—F cunt Merriwell’s Fairness.
644—Dick Merriwell’s Inspiration. 717—Frank Merriwell’s Pledge.
645—Dick Merriwell’s Shooting. soot ree, Merriwell, the Man of °
646—Dick Merriwell in the Wilds.
para ee Merriwell’s Red Com- 719-—Freak’ Merriwell’s

ade. Blow
648—F1 ache Merriwell’s Ranch. 720—Frank } Merriwell’s Quest.
649—Frank Merriwell in the Sad- 721—Frank Merriwell’s Ingots.

dle. 722—F rank Merriwell’s Assistance. .

650—Frank 723—Frank gent ‘at the
651—Trank Thro
652—Dick Merriwell’s Rival. 724—-Frank Metriwet, the Always”
653—Dick Merriwell’s Strength. Rea
654—Dick Merriwell’s Secret Work 725—F rrank Merriwell in Diamond
655-—Dick Merriwel:'s Way.
656—Fr ae Merriwell’s Red Vis- 726—Frank Merriwell's Desperate
657—Frank Merriwell’s Rope. 727—Prank "Merriwell’s Black Ter.
658—Frank Merriwell’s Lesson.

Proposi- 691—Dick Merriwell’s Dandies.
692—Dick Merriwell’s “Skyscooter”

693—Dick Merriwell in the Elk
Mountains.

694—Dick Merriwell in Utah.

695—Dick Merriwell’s Bluff.

696—Dick Merriwell in the Saddie.

697—Dick Merriwell’s Ranch

Lads.
701—Frank Merriwell as Instruct-

or.
702—Dick Merriwell’s Cayuse.
703—Dick Merriwell’s Quirt.

in Lumber

Return

Merriwell’s Brand.
Merriwell’s Red Guide

659—Frank Merriwell’s Protection 728—Frank Merriwell Again on
660—Dick Merriwell’s Reputation. he Slab.
661—Dick Merriwell’s Motto. 729—Frank Merriwell’s Hard ~
662—Dick Merriwell’s Restraint. Gam
663—Dick Merriwell’s Ginger. 780—Frank. Merriwell’s Six-in-hand ©
664—Dick Merriwell’s Driving. 731—¥Frank Merriwell’s Pcs a
665—Dick Merriwell'’s Good Cheer. 732—Frank Merriwell on attle-
666—F rank Merriwell’s Theory. snake Ranch.
667—Frank Merriwell’s Diplomacy. 733—Frank Merriwell’s Sure Hand
668—F rank ae s Encour- {oe Stae Merriwell’s Treasure.
agemen ap.
Serres Merriwell’s Great a ee Merriwell, Prince of
Wo Rope. '
670—Dick Merriwell’s Mind. 736—Dick Merriwell, Captain of
671—Dick Merriwell’s “Di the Varsity. .
aoe ae Merriwell’s Rally. 737—Dick Merriwell’s Control.
738—Dick Merriwell’s Back Sto
bake eran Masked > Ba

8—Dick Merriwell’s Flier.
$74—Frank Merriwell’s Bullets,
67! 5—Frank Merriwell Cut Off.
Ranch 740—Dick NMerriwell’s Motor Car.
41—Dick Merriwell’s Hot Panne
42—Diek | core at Fores:

676—Irank Merriwell’s
Boss,
677—Dick Merriwell’s Equal.
67 ee Merriwell’s Develop-
743—Dick "Merrlwelt in Court.

679-—Dick Whe riatiett s Bye. 744—Dick Merriwell’s Silence,
680—Frank Merriwell’s Zest. 745—Dick Merriwell’s Dog. ;
681—F rank Merriwell’s Patience. 746—Dick Merriwell’s Subterfuge, |
682—Frank Merriwell’s Pupil. 747—Dick Merriwell’s Enigma, ©
683—F rank Merriwell’s Fighters. _748—Dick Merriwell Defeated.
684—Dick Merriwell at the “Meet” 749—Dick Merriwell’s “Win ;
685—Dick Merriwell’s Protest. 750—Dick Merriwell’s. Sky Micah
686—Dick Merriwell in the Mara- 751—Dick Merriwell’s Pick-ups.

thon, basa ie? 2 eee on the Rock-
687—Dick Merriwell’s Colors.
688—Dick Merriwell, Driver. GF 53—Dick frerriwell’s Penetration. —
689—Dick Merriwell'on the Deep. 754—Dick Merriwell’s Intuition, —
690—Dick Merriwell in the North 755—Dick Merriwell’s Vantage,

Woods. 756—Dick Merriwell’s Advice. _

 

 

PRICE, FIVE CENTS PER COPY

te you want any back numbers of our we eeklies and cannot procure them from your emotion they can bee

obtained direct from this office.

Postage stamps taken the same.as money.

 

 
 
 

 

PARLY NUMBERS OF THE

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 at ELE

TOP, because we did not have copies of the numbers that contained them.

It was

impossible for us to reprint TIP TOP WEEKLY, so we made the stories up in book
form and published them in the NEW MEDAL LIBRARY at intervals of about
Here is a list of these splendid books which

four weeks beginning with No. 150.

contain Nos. 1 to 485 of TIP TOP WEEKLY.

Our experience with these books

has taught us that thousands of boys are overjoyed at this opportunity to secure their

favorite

150—Frank
107—Frank
178—Frank
184—F rank
189—F rank
193—F rank
197—F rank
201I—F rank
205—Frank
2090—F rank
213—F rank
217—F rank

25—Frank
eset
233—F rank
237—Frank
240—Frank
244—Frank
247—Frank
251—F rank
254—F rank
258—F rank
262—F rank
267—F rank
271—F rank
276—Frank
280—F rank
284—Frank
288—F rank
292—F rank
2906—F rank
300—F rank
304—F rank
308—Frank
312—F rank
316—Frank
320—F rank
324—F rank
328—Frank
332—F rank
336—Frank
340—F rank
344—Frank
348—F rank

Merriwell’s School-days.
Merriwell’s Chums.
Merriwell’s Foes.
Merriwell’s Trip West.
Merriwell Down South.
Merriwell’s Bravery.
Merriwell’s Hunting
Merriwell in Europe.
Merriwell at Yale.
Merriwell’s Sports
Merriwell’s Races.
Merriwell’s Bicycle Tour.
Merriwell’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
Merriwell’s Stage Hit.
Merriwell’s Great Scheme.
Merriwell in England.

Tour.

Afield.

Secret.

Problem.
Fortune.

Prosperity.

Merriwell on the Boulevards.

Merriwell’s Duel.

Return to Yale.

College Chums.

New Comedian.

stories in a more permanent form.

352—Frank

356—Frank Merriwell’s Baseball Victories

359—F rank
362—F rank
365—Frank
368—F rank
371—F rank
374—F rank
377—F rank
380—F rank
383—Frank
386—F rank
389—F rank
392—F rank
3905—F rank
3908—F rank
4o1—F rank
404—F rank
407—F rank
410—Frank
413—Frank
416—Frank
419—F rank
422—F rank
425—Frank
428—Frank
431—Frank
434—F rank
437—Frank

Merriwell’s Double Shot.

Merriwell’s Confidence.
Merriwell’s Auto.
Merriwell’s Fun.
Merriwell’s Generosity.
Merriwell’s Tricks.
Merriwell’s Temptation.
Merriwell on Top.
Merriwell’s Luck.
Merriwell’s Mascot.
Merriwell’s Reward.
Merriwell’s Phantom.
Merriwell’s Faith.
Merriwell’s Victories.
Merriwell’s Iron Nerve.
Merriwell in Kentucky.
Merriwell’ s Power.
Merriwell’s Shrewdness.
Merriwell’s Set-back.
Merriwell’s Search.
Merriwell’s Club.
Merriwell’s Trust.
Merriwell’s False Friend.
Merriwell’s Strong Arm.
Merriwell as Coach.
Merriwell’s Brother.
Merriwell’s Marvel.
Merriwell’s Support.

440—Dick Merriwell at Fardale.

443—Dick Merriwell’s
Merriwell’s
Merriwell’s
Merriwell’s
Merriwell’s
Merriwell’s
Merrjwell’s
Merriwell’s
Merriwell’s Wonders.

446—Dick
449—Dick
452—Dick
455—Dick
458—Dick
461—Dick
464—Dick
467—Dick
470—F rank

Glory.
Promise.
Rescue.

Racket.
Revenge.
Ruse.
Delivery.

Merriwell’s Honor.

473—Dick Merriwell’s Diamond.

476—Frank

Merriwell’s Winners.

4790—Dick Merriwell’s Dash.
482—Dick Merriwell’s Ability.

Narrow Escape.

PRICE, FIFTEEN CENTS.

485—Dick Merriwell’s Trap.
488—Dick Merriwell’s Defense.
49t—Dick Merriwell’s Model.
494—Dick Merriwell’s Mystery.
497—Frank Merriwell’s Backers.
500—Dick Merriwell’s Backstop.
503—Dick Merriwell’s Western Mission.
506—Frank Merriwell’s Rescue.
5090—Frank 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.
530—Dick Merriwell’s Grit.
5390—Dick Merriwell’s Assurance.
542—Dick Merriwell’s Long Slide.
545—Frank Merriwell’s Rough Deal.
548—Dick Merriwell’s Threat.
551—Dick Merriwell’s Persistence.
554—Dick Merriwell’s Dad.
557—Frank Merriwell’s Peril.
560—Dick Merriwell’s Downfall.
563—Frank Merriwell’s Pursuit.
566—Dick Merriwell Abroad.
56090—-Frank Merriwell in the Rockies.
572—Dick Merriwell’s Pranks.
Published About July 5th.
575—F rank Merriwell’s Pride.
Published About July 26th.
578—F rank Merriwell’s Challengers.
Published About August 16th.
581—Frank Merriwell’s Endurance.
Published About Sept. 6th.
584—Dick Merriwell’s Cleverness.
Published About Sept. 27th.
587—Frank Merriwell’s Marriage.

STREET & SMITH, Publishers, NEW YORK CITY