ee No. 767 DEC. 24,1910 3 CENTS IP TOP mn AN IDEAL PUBLICATION FORTHE AMERICAN YOUTH Pe atepeweu sTAC He gave the curly-headed fel- low a last violent thrust as they neared the boarding, and made him plunge over into the snowy stretch beyond. a * aia deo Lp” as 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., N. ¥. Copyright, 1910, dy STREET & SMITH. No. 767. NEW YORK, December 24, 1910. - Price Five Cents. Frank Merriwell’s Tact; fs OR, THE TAMING OF GARTH TENNANT. By BURT L. STANDISH. CHAPTER DIPLOMACY. “Sit down, Eric.” f The tall, slim, dark- “eyed youth, who had entered _Frank Merriwell’s office in response to the lattey’s summons, came forward quickly and took a chair close to the big, flat-topped mahogany desk. There was a look of suppressed curiosity on his _ rather handsome face, and mingled with it was just a trace of anxiety; for he wondered what the head of the School of Athletic Development could have to say to him. Qn his way through the hall he had made a swift mental review of his own doings for the past few days, but he could think,of no faults either of com- mission or omission which warranted anything in the _ nature of a reproof. It had not always been thus. When he first came to Farnham Hall in the early fall, Eric Carpénter had He was simply chock-full of animal spirits which found vent in a constant succession of crazy pranks and jokes. . Sometimes, to be sure, these tricks -went further than even his thoughtlessness had meant them to, and for several weeks he kept the school in a continual uproar. Then almost imperceptibly the change came. Lit-_ tle by little his high spirits found vent in other; more orderly channels. He took up football, and played the game with every bit of skill and enthusiasm which was in him, so he soon forged into the very front rank. And coming in from “the field at dusk, tired, sore, and tingling all over with the violent ex- ercise, he had been too weary to do anything but eat his supper, study a little in his room afterward, and then tumble into bed. , In the cabinetmaking shop, which was a part of the. regular equipment of the school, he had discovered been one of the wildest, most harum-scarum boys who, an unexpected and latent talent for nice work and deli- had ever entered its portals. There was nothing in the least mean or underhand or vicious about him. cate tools and beautiful, foreign woods, and had de- veloped a patience and skill which one would have 2 | | TIP TOP ‘thought impossible in a quick-tempered, headstrong nature such as his. More than once he wondered a little at the change but Frank Merriwell done his work sofskillfully which had come about in him, and with so much tact that the boy never realized that he alone had vas re sponsible for the transformation. He only knew that, as time went on, he became more and more attached to this man who was so kind and sympathetic, and yet under whose easy, pleasant manner was an in- domitable purpose and a will of iron. He had never known any one in all his life whom he so. admired and respected, and at the same time so thoroughly liked. For Frank had the rare faculty of making the boys understand that he was interested in each and every one of them, body and soul. He was never too busy to lay aside his work and talk to them about problems and troubles which might have seemed very trivial to some men, but which loom so big and important in a boy’s mind. And somehow they always went away from his office cheered and comforted by the feeling that there was some one who understood them, and who sym- pathized with their troubles, bad after which never seemed so a talk with Merriwell. Of course there were some boys—just as there are imen-in the great world outside—who were not amena- ble to such handling. figuratively, by the scruff of their neck and shaken into a realizing sense of the error of their ways. And these boys were not long in finding out that Merri- Boys who had to be taken well was a man who would stand no nonsense. They found that underneath the glove of velvet was a hand of iron; and woe betide the fellow who ttied to de- ceive hin) with a lie. That boy learned his lesson with a swift thoroughness which produced a lasting effect. So Eric Carpenter took his seat with a feeling of curiosity, but with no alarm. He was conscious of no particular wrongdoing g, with the possible exception of some pranks played the day before on a new ar- rival, which had been’ so trivial that Frank would scarcely be likely’ to have heard of. them, much less make them the subject of a special interview. _ Merriwell sat back in his chair-and placed the tips of his fingers lightly together. “Garth Tennant has been here a little over a week,” he said quietly. “What do you think of him, Eric?” _ Carpenter gave a slight start and his face flushed a little. So it was that, haa How in the mischief had the information leaked out? - “7?*"he murmured in a puzzled way. WEEKLY, Frank smiled a bit. “Yes, think of him? you,’ he returned calmly. How have you sized him up? fellow What sort of a down at’ the bottom ?”’ Eric hesitated Well,’ sociable.”’ do you think he is, an instant. he said slowly, at length, “he’s not very There was a twinkle in Merriwell’s “A little ¢g " he suggested seriously. Civpenhin darted a swift look of astonishment at his face. “Why, how———” he exclaimed. Then he broke off abruptly, wondering how under the sun: Merriwell knew that the fellows had, for ob- vious reasons, applied the name of “Grouch” to the new arrival, fine eyes. rouchy, eh? “It’s very simple,’ Frank explained, as if he read the boy’s thoughts. “I. heard them calling him that yesterday, and when, you fellows give any one a nick- name I notice that it generally hits the nail on the head. Besides, I’ve been watching Tennant pretty closely myself; and had come to practically the same conclusion. He is unsociable; but any deeper than that? made him so?” Haven't you wonderéd what Eric shook his head slowly. “No, sir,’ he confessed. “When he first came I tried to aay him out a bit. on the hockey team, and he seemed just the right sort; but when I asked him about it he nearly snappéd thy head off, so I gave him up as a bad job.” flushed a little. “T reckon I’m the one who’s responsible for that “T was a_little He hesitated and his face naine,”’ he went on, in a low tone. riled when he flew at me that way, and 1 a beastly grouch. it’s stuck to him ever since.’ Frank’s lips curved a little at the corners. “That being the case,’ he said gravely, you will feel more like helping me out.” He smiled openly at the look of amazement. on the young fellow’s face, and then went on quickly: “Tennant is a boy who has lived all his life in — I don’t think he has ever had many companions or friends, and J am perfectly certain that his father has never understood his rather peculiar the backwoods. nature. I have watched him quite closely and my im pression is that his ill-tempered surliness is put on like a suteenye armor. [ Benen that, re ot under- “What do you haven’t you gone > We need some more beef ~ called him — Sonie of the fellows heard: me, and “perhaps — oh det icles cade a your own friends. will be a bond in common. ee wy talk with Merriwell. ship as is possessed by any of you. I think he would like to make friends, but he does not know how; and so he draws back into his shell and hides this ungrati- fied longing as if it were something of which to be ashamed. Now, what I want you to do is to make a determined effort to draw him out. Don’t do it ob- viously, but try again to get him interested in hockey. Talk to him now and then as you would to any of Find out, if you can, what inter- Perhaps you may find a kindred taste which And don’t be discouraged if he freezes you at first, as he probably will. Just plug at him, and I think you will succeed in the end. What do you say to the idea? Will you under- take it?” “Of course, sir,” Carpenter answered readily. “I'll do my best, but ’'m awfully afraid he won’t come to anything. I don’t believe he likes me for a cent.” “Then make him,” Frank returned quickly. “I’m sure you can if you try hard enough.” Eric was still a little unconvinced, and for five min- utes longer Frank talked earnestly to him. boy arose and started for the door, he was resolved to throw himself heart and soul into the matter of ests him. _ winning the surly lad’s confidence and ‘liking if it could possibly be done. , It had become a matter of pride with him to suc- ceed if it was a possible thing. He did not know, of ‘course, that Merriwell, having noted his occasional lapses into the old-time mischief, now that the stress and worry of the football season was over, had been searching about for some time for something with which to occupy the high-spirited boy’s mind, and, though he was perfectly sincere in his desire for ‘the reclamation of Garth Tennant, he had requested Eric’s: _codperation because he saw in this chance the oppor- tunity he had been searching for to fiJl Carpenter’s mind so full of a definite, absorbing purpose, that there would be no room left for anything else. But it was by just such displays of tact as this that Frank Merriwell had made himself admired, respected, and liked to a degree almost unheard of in a man _ of his position. ‘CHAPTER II. REBUFFED. _Eric Carpenter hurried through the hall to the outer door, his mind full of the unexpected nature of his He meant to do his very best not TIP: TOP WEEKLY. When the * to disappoint the man for whose good opinion he cared so much, but he was more than a little doubtful as to how he should begin the missionary work, and he was thinking over various plans as he ran’over to the " gymnasium, where he should have reported atyleast ten minutes ago for his regular morning work. As soon as he got into his togs, he explained to Bart Hodge, Frank’s chief assistant and the one who had exclusive charge of the gym, what had kept him, and then started at once on the delayed exercises. Being a boy who had always been fond of out-of- door sports and games, he was extremely well de- veloped, without a particle of superfluous flesh on his body. On first coming to Farnham Hall he had been obliged, of course, to go through some more or less routine work in the matter of regular exercising, but very soon Bart Hodge put him in the small class of boys who were allowed to do pretty much as they liked in the gymnasium, so long as they put in their time in actual work. Carpenter usually took a turn on the elevated run- ning track and devoted the rest of the period to work on the flying rings. To-day, being late, he elimi- nated the sprinting and went at once to the rings. He had gone through half a dozen evolutions and was pausing for an instant to rest when he happened to glance downward and found himself looking straight into the sullen, scowling face of the fellow who had occupied his mind to the exclusion of every- thing else for the past half hour. Tennant was working a set of chest weights on the floor below with a vigor which threatened a speedy disintegration of the machine. But while he yanked on the handles and nearly broke the cord with every pull it \was most apparent that his mind was not in the least on what he was doing. His somber eyes were fixed intently on the graceful figure of Eric Carpenter, hanging high above him, and on his square, strong, rough-hewn face was a look of decided envy mingled with a kind of grudging ad- miration. ‘But the instant Eric looked down and their eyes met the look of envy vanished and its place was in- stantly taken by one of defiance. The scowl deep- ened and he averted his eyes swiftly and deliberately, as if he did not wish to acknowledge the other's cheery nod and smile. Carpenter bit his lips and frowned the least bit at this exhibition of unmistakable hostility. rather nb and not altogether pleasant experience for him to have his greeting ignored. He was one of those It was a TIP TOP fortunate individuals who win popularity from every quarter without any visible effort. Generous to a fault, absolutely square in his dealings with every one, a fine athlete and perfectly fearless under every circumstance, he had besides all these accomplish- ments a fund of that wonderful quality, personal mag- netism, which made like him against their inclinations and almost against their will. 'After the first instinctive feeling of annoyance at Tennant’s behavior a rueful smile flashed into Eric’s face. “By Jove!’ he murmured. “This isn’t going to be a bit of a cinch. Old Grouchy looks as if he’d like to eat my head off.” With each leg thrust through a ring, he swayed slowly back and forth, his dark eyes fixed in sp*-ula- tive thoughtfulness on the fellow below him. Garth Tennant was tall. big-boned and heavily built. ‘In his everyday clothes he jseemed almost awkward, but stripped to a gymnasium suit his splendid physique showed to much more advantage. As he yanked vi- ciously at the weights, Eric watched with a curious feeling of admiration, the muscles of his powerful shoulders and arms rippling up and down under the smooth, satiny skin. “He’s strong as a horse,” he thought to himself. “Tf he only knew the game, what a guard or full back he’d make. I wish I knew whether he could skate or not.” Tennant continued to avert his head obstinately as if nothing would induce him to look at Carpenter, but somehow, in spite of this, he seemed to know intui- tively that he was under inspection; and presently Eric saw a dull red mount slowly from Garth’s mus- cular neck, spreading upward to the very roots of _-his coarse, wiry black hair, which was sadly in need _ of the barber’s shears. Swiftly Carpenter twisted about and the next mo- ment had resumed his evolutions in the air, a feeling of annoyance strong within him that he had allowed _ his surprise and interest to get the better of his good _ breeding. “T might have known better than to stare at him that way,” he muttered. “TI suppose he thought I was making fun of him. I wish he could know how much I was admiring his muscles. But, gee! you can’t tell ? fellow a thing Hike that.” fellows sometimes m, , he was quite unsuccessful. It seemed almost as ‘turned, a dark frown on his face. \ you've never played before,” WEEKLY. if the fellow was deliberately ‘avoiding him, and pres- ently Eric made up his mind that such was the case. Again he felt that unpleasant little twinge of an- difficulty of the a spite of all ob- | noyance, and again the increasing affair stimulated him to succeed stacles. \ [t was not until after dinner that he managed by | vaiting at the foot of the stairs leading to the dormi- Bi tory to corner the obstinate Tennant as the latter came pounding down, three steps at a time, evidently ina’ good deal of a hurry to get somewhere. ‘ Garth’s face darkened when he saw Carpenter there, and though he could not help in some way. & acknowledging the latter’s cordial nod, he did it as briefly and as ungraciously as posstble, hurrying on toward the outside door, before Eric had a chance to speak. . eee “Say, Tennant,” the latter called after him, “wait a second, won't you? I want to talk to you for a min- ute.” AW The big fellow hesitated, stopped slowly, and half = | - ‘Well,’ he snapped, “what is it?” Eric walked over to him. “T wish you'd reconsider your decision and try out for the hockey team,” he said quickly. The scowl deepened on Tennant’s tanned face. “No, I won't!” he exclaimed emphatically. There was a note of finality in his voice, but Car- penter was not so easily discouraged, “I’m sure you could catch on to the game even if he said encouragingly. ; “Tf you can skate, there’s nothing hard about hockey; and honestly, Tennant, I’d like awfully ——” | “I won't do it!’ broke in the big fellow angrily. — “Haven't you got enough sense to know that I mean what I say? You've sure got a gall to come soft- _ soaping around me. I should think you’d know I f haven’t any use for a fellow like you.” | Without waiting for a reply, he turned sharply on — his heel, and the next inoment the front door banged noisily behind him. ae Eric Carpenter stood gazing after him in sidedie vay less amazement. His face turned scarlet and he clenched both fists. a “You confounded surly country bumpkin!” he ex- claimed furiously, taking a swift stride toward the door. “I'll knock that thick head of yours off vet shoulders.” No one had ever spoken that way to him basse: does he?” he muttered. - the pond so he can make a show of me before all i? POP hurt bitterly. Friends ship and liking came to the hand- some youth so easily that he did not know what it was to have his advances repulsed. the other way; boys were, as a rule, only too eager to be on friendly terms with him. With flashing eyes, he caught hold of the knob ; What was he going to do—try to lick a boy because the latter had de- clined to do what he wanted him to and apparently had no desire for the friendship which had been of- fered him? Did he imagine for an instant that he could force ‘Tennant to like him whether he wanted to or not? He dropped his arm to his side and some of the color ebbed out of his cheeks as he stood thoughtfully silent, his eyes fixed on the floor. _ Presently he threw back his head and laughed, but the usual ringing, spontaneous mirth was absent from his voice. It was generally door- and then he stopped still. “By Jove! If he isn't a regular bulldog!’ he mur- mured, in a chagrined tone. ‘He hates me like poison and doesn’t care who knows it. I suppose it’s because I called him a grouch the other day. Silly reason, but it’s all I can think of.” 3 He turned and walked swiftly toward the stairs, his jaw squared and his sensitive lips firmly set.’ “But, by smoke, he’ll like me before I get through!” he went on, in an undertone. “I'll make the old idiot like me if it takes every minute of my time and every ounce of persuasion I’ve got in my body.” CHAPTER If. “PF REO ROU CH (*’ Meanwhile, Garth Tennant was striding down the snowy road which led from the school buildings, his face black as a thundercloud and his dark eyes flash- . ing fire. “Thinks he can fool me with his wheedling sways, “Wants to get me down on those other idiots, I suppose. Well, he won't! up against the wrong proposition this time.” He wheeled through the big gates and turned He’s : | Sharply toward the right along the highroad. As he_ did so a shrill voice from behind him rang through the frosty air.. _ “Hi, there, Grouch! WEEKLY. 5 had jibed and mocked him, and only the day -before © himself with rage and fury! Going the wrong way, aren't you? Thought you were coming down to the lake to show us how to skate.” Tennant did not turn his head, but his face flushed dully under the tan and he clenched his big, powerful hands tightly. He recognized the voice as belonging to Reddy Payne, a small, sorrel-topped, harum-scarum boy who was always to the €gnt when there was any mischief on! foot, and who had taken particular. de- light in teasing Garth of his arrival: But, oddly enough, the latter did not seem.to bear him so much animosity as he did the youth who had been first responsible for the nickname which was now applied to him by almost the entire school. ‘ “You little whippersnapper!” he muttered through clenched teeth, half. Tennant from the first moment “T could take you and -break you in But you're not so much to blame. You just follow the example that some one else sets. You'd never have thought of such a. name if it hadn't been for that rotten Carpenter. But I'll get even with him : before very long. He'll wish he hadn't been §0 smart before I get done with him. I reckon, after the way I shut him up to-day, he won’t be coming around very soon again with his sneaking ways.” a As he hurried down the lonely road, piled up at the sides with great banks of snow, he felt a thrill of fierce joy at the way he had repulsed Eric Carpenter’s advances and put him in his place. It never occurred to him that these advances had been made for any other purpose than to get him down to the lake and ridicule him before the other boys. Had not Eric been responsible that very first day for saddling him with a name which he loathed beyond words! Had he not ever since been foremost among the boys who — had baited him in the gym until he was almost beside Surely nothing ea could be expected from such a fellow. Garth Tennant was a strange mixture of the most opposite traits, and it was a perfect example of Frank Merriwell’s amazing ability at sizing up a man’s char- acter that he should have judged the fellow with so near an approach to accuracy. Brought up on a farm in the wilds of northern Ne Hampshire, the boy's life had been a lonely one. His mother’s death, when he was only a few years old, had taken from him the one person who might have under stood his complex nature, and who might by love anc sympathy have molded him into something differe 6 ie Or that she had married very much beneath her and their subsequent treatment of her had been the reverse of pleasant. It was from her that Garth inherited the gentler traits which his rough-hewn father could not understand, and which he had ridiculed as effemi- nate, leading the boy to strive with all his might to . hide them under a brusque roughness which was most deceptive. The elder Tennant, while thoroughly just and up- right, according to his lights,' was as rough and hard and stony as the rocks of his native State. - Something of the struggle to wrest a living from the sterile soil seelued to have eaten into his very soul; and, as the years followed one upon another, he had changed gradually from the handsome, high-spirited youth who had fairly swept the Boston girl off her feet with his ardor, to the silent, tactiturn, unsympathetic man who made life so hard for his only son. The boy had naturally a passionate longing for companionship, which, to begin with, the isolated life on the farm made difficult of gratification. In spite of this obstacle, however, he might have made friends and kept them had it not been for his father’s nar- _row-minded hardness; for John Tennant made things so unpleasant for boys who came to the house that they seldom repeated the performance, and he kept his son so hard at work that the latter rarely had the time to go elsewhere. As a result, the boy was thrown almost entirely upon his own recourses, and was obliged to employ his scant leisure in hunting and fishing and long, soli- ' tary tramps through the woods, when he would much rather have been playing baseball or hockey or some other sport like any normal boy. Thus jhe grew up, his better instincts stifled and dwarfed, and the hot-tempered, sullen, boorish streak which he had inherited from his father thrived and grew from constant intercourse with the latter, until at last the.great change came. | An artist had spent the preceding summer at the Tennant farm, devoting his days to painting the wild, sullen, rocky beauty of the New Hampshire hills and his nights in endeavoring to draw out young Garth, for whom he had taken a great liking. _ He succeeded, after much effort, in penetrating be- neath the outer shell of silent reserve and distrust, und found there tle real boy, generous, true-hearted, and shy almost to brusqueness in giving expression to his feelings. He saw also, with infinite regret, that this generous nature was in a fair way of being utterly ined; that the es armor was constantly in- WEEKLY: creasing in strength and thickness until, presently, it would be utterly impossible to break through, and the boy would be condemned to go through life misinter- preted, misunderstood, a distorted travesty of what he might have been. Stirred by this realization, Temple Wainwright did something which was of more value than all the pic- tures he had ever painted—for he was a wealthy man: who dabbled in art as'a mere diversion; did some- thing which was perhaps more far-reaching than any- thing he had ever done before in all his indolent, kindly, fluttering life—he saved a human soul. He knew of Merriwell’s schoof, he had even met Frank himself, and he conceived the idea of having Garth go there. One would have supposed it an utter impossibility to persuade the boy’s father to such a no- tion, but Wainwright had a certain fund of obstinacy in his make-up. For weeks he hammered at the man until at last he extracted a grudging permission that, as soon as the fall work had been done and the win- ter’s supply of wood been cut and stacked, Garth could go to Bloomfield. Then, having done his work, the artist flitted away to warmer climes, and after his fashion promptly for- got the very existence of the boy who had so inter- ested him and for whom he had accomplished so much. The check which he had handed to the elder Tennant for his son’s expenses also included an amount suffi- cient to hire some one to take the boy’s place on the farm for a year; but it meant little to Temple Wain- wright, who received as much as that every week of his life without lifting a finger. But to Garth it was like a glimpse of paradise. He showed nothing of what he felt to his father, but he went about his chores as if he were walking on air. The thought of what was in store for him was al- most unbelievable. At last he would have the friends and companions he had longed for all his life. At last he would be able to acquire the ‘knowledge which had so. far been denied him, and which must open the door to something higher and better than that grind- ing, monotonous, soul-killing life which was the only existence he had ever known. He had started on his journey with deh high hopes; but how swiftly, how thoroughly, had those hopes been shattered! He found the companions he had longed for so much, and among the boys at Farn-— ham Hall were many whose looks he liked and whom he would have given anything to make his friends; but he did not know how to win friendship. He had lived a Bernie's life so long that he had | . ss TAP TOP lost the ability to make advances. When he was first shown about the school a horrible wave of shyness aes 8S i eel ws wi Se : had overwhelmed him and caused him to shut up like a clam. all over as a porcupine bristles, when he would have 8 been given anything in the world to have been friendly. , Naturally such an attitude made the boys set.himi will, they and un- He was gruff and brusque and surly, bristling down as an ill-tempered boor; and, as boys treated him accordingly, calling him “Grouch” various other appropriate names, teasing him mercifully, little knowing that every jeer and sneer e and innuendo cut him to the quick like so many knife a: blades. Thus matters went from bad to worse. Tormented and laughed at, Garth drew. into his shell in much the same spirit that a wounded animal seeks its lair. Nothing could induce him to let these fellows see how much they hurt him. f His dream had vanished and there was nothing to do but bear the persecution as est he could, fighting pif back with rough, bitter words, which would lead to ee blows in the very near ‘future; for he felt sure that he could not keep a grip on his hot temper much longer. Presently he would flare up and administer a thorough licking to some of his tormentors, which would show them that he was not so easy as they seemed to think. Already he had pitched upon Eric Carpenter as the one who would receive the first lesson. e. CHAPTER. IV. ADDING FUEL TO THE FLAMES, “Next time he tries any funny business he'll. get what’s coming to him,’ Tennant muttered. “He started the whole ting. If it hadn’t been for him maybe the fellows wouldn't hammer me the way they do. I s’pose he thinks just because I’m poor and ig- norant and don’t say ‘please’ and ‘beg your pardon’ and all that, that I don’t amount to shucks; but [’ll show him I’m as good a man as he is.” Garth, not in the least lacking in common sense or power of observation, had noticed at once the differ- “ence between his own rough manners and those of most of the boys at Farnham Hall. At first they had seemed affected, but after a time he found himself wondering where he had heard the words and phrases before. Mr. Wainwright had used them, of course; but he was thinking of some one long before the i ee artist’ S time. ’” anything like friendship between them had vanii | WEEKLY. At last, one day, with a sudden twitching at his heartstrings, he remembered that his mother had spoken in much that same way. She was only a vague, fading memory to him, but he recalled that much quite vividly. Probably, had she lived, she would have taught him all those little tricks and graces of speech. He wondered whether it was too late to learn. Once,“in the seclusion of his room, he ventured on one or two of the phrases he had overheard, but they were scarcely uttered before he flushed with shame. They sounded so unnatural and effeminate. He would not try again. : Presently he left the road and plunged through a gap in the stone wall opening into the forest. A well- worn path in the deep snow showed that it was not the first time he had been that way. He had taken up in desperation his old habits of wandering about the country, for, somehow, he was lonelier by far amid that great crowd of hostile boys than he had ever been on the bleak. New England farm. There was nothing to hope for there, nothing to ex- pect; but here, he felt like a man starving in the sight of plenty, and it was almost more than he could's tand, As he pushed his way through the thick trees, now and then dislodging a mass of snow which fell in showers over his head and shoulders, he wished he were back home again. He might have written and © asked his father to take him away, but pride stayed his hand.’ The elder Tennant had been opposed to the project from the very beginning and had sneeringly prophesied that no good would come of Garth knew well what to expect if he acknowledged himself beaten and returned home. No; he would stick it ou : That was the only way. Every little while throughout the long tramp his mind kept coming back to Eric Carpenter. After the first flush of anger at what he considered the latter's attempt to make fun of him, the handsome face of the slim, lithe youth flashed into his brain time and time again. He had liked the fellow’s looks from the very start, and wondered what it would be like to have him for a friend. But when Eric had spoken to him he was so shy and nervous and tongue- tied that he could not have answered him in any other than that an brusque manner. Then had followed the epithet of “grouch,” a with that, Garth felt that all hope of there ever be utterly. He had been a fool to think of it for stant. What use could that handsome, high-spi popular lad possibly have for such as he, except haps, to use him as a butt for ridicule? He did not consider that Carpenter had pretty much the same sort of temper as his own, though it was under better con- trol; he did not see that the short, snappy answer which had been fairly forced from him, because noth- ing else would come, must have looked to Eric like a deliberate attempt to ignore were meant to be friéndly. He did not know, either, that the handsome fellow had regretted his own hasty re- ply the moment the words had left his lips. And so he tramped on through the snowy woods, his heart ‘aching with a dull, poignant bitterness,- his mind longing for what he wanted so-desperately and yet which he did not know how to bring about. It was quite dark when he returned to the school and went straight up to his room. As he had expected, he found his toommate there before him, comfortably settled by the reading lamp, absorbed in a flashy-look- ing, paper-covered novel. Guy Wrexler was slim and narrow-shouldered, with a long, pale face, very blond hair, and light-blue eyes. advances which high opinion of himself, one would have thought that he would bitterly resent sharing his rooms with a fel- low of Tennant’s rather humble origin and bring- ing up. _. This did not prove to be the case, however. the contrary, it was a HOW, la- ie eee te a ied _ where WEEKLY, 23 sion, and had resolved to start the day by having a thorough understanding with Eric Carpenter. Then, it being rather late, he slipped out of his clothes and tumbled into bed, trying to close his ears to the eternal stream of words which issued from his roommate's lips, until at last sleep came to his rescue. How long it was before he awakened he did not know. It was pitch dark when he came to his senses, and for a moment he lay there wondering dazedly he was and what caused that curious diffi- culty in breathing. The next instant he sat up suddenly, with a half- suppressed exclamation of dismay. It was smoke! The room seemed full of it, biting, pungenty stifling. He wondered why he had not recognized it instantly. With a leap, he was on. the floor, and scarcely had he left the bed when the wild clanging of the big bell of Farnham Hall broke out somewhere above him, filling the night air with a wild, terrifying clamor which thrilledesarth to the heart, and made the shivers course up and down his spine. A moment later he was calm, and cool, and col- lected again. Guy Wrexler lay on his back, breathing heavily. Apparently the noise of the alarm had made not the slightest i impression on him, Tennant grabbed him by the shoulder and shook tae fiercely. “Wake up!” he cried hoarsely.. “Wrexler!: Wake up!” The next instant he had the fellow out of bed, dazed, bewildered, and only half awake. “Wa—what—— “Fire! snapped Tennant. * he stammered. There is a marvelous power of suggestion in that zi It penetrated swiftly to Wrexler’s dulled With a whimper of fear, he flew toward the door and flung it open, only to leap back and slam it quickly as he saw the smoke — ae filled the dimly lighted corridor, | we hat’ll we do?’ he cried. oe ll be burned to death!” Garth had paused to slip on trousers, stoes, a ae realized che discomfort. of sees the bitte single word. brain and thrilled him to action. “Oh, what will we do’ hs coat. Pees te ee entree 24 TIP TOP cold outside without them. Then he reached VWrex- jer’s side. “We'll get out, all Here’s your clothes; take them.” “Rot!” he exclaimed tersely. right. With trembling hands the slim, blond fellow took the things mechanically from him; but made no at- tempt to put them on. Garth's lips curled a little con- temptuously as he saw what a funk the other was in, but he made no comment. » Instead, he opened the door again and stepped out into the corridor. The smoke was pretty thick here, to be sure, but probably no more so than in the bedroom. The only difference was that they could see it. Tennant took along breath. It was ticklish and un- pleasant but not in the least dangerous. But there was no telling how soon it might become so, and it therefore behooved them to make haste. “You go this way and knock on all the doors,” he- said quickly, “and I'll take the other He broke off abruptly when he found he was talls- ing to empty air. Wrexler had disappeared. Evi- dently he proposed to look after number one first of all. Garth’s lips curled again, but he wasted no thoughts upon the delinquent one. Darting to the door of the room next his own, he flung it open and dragged the ‘ single occupant out of bed. “Fire!” he yelled swiftly. “Beat it!” Then he departed, leaving the fellow gasping and bewildered, but thoroughly alive to his danger. Tennant ran through the corridor repeating this performance at every room. In some of them he found the fellows already aroused, and presently he began to run into thee in the corridor as he hurried from room to room. Some of them had lost their heads, as Wrenler had, but the majority were amazingly composed, con- sidering the suddenness of their awakening. ‘Tennant sent them all scurrying to the staircase, ' and told them to report to Mr. Merriwell, who by this ; ae must be at the scene of action below. Oddly enough, they obeyed him implicitly, for there ) “was something reassuring in his cool, confident manner something eer in the calm way he ordered WEEKLY. them about as if they were so many children. Boys who had laughed and jeered at. him did as he told them without hesitation or without question; for his was the sort of nature which is at its best in cases of emergeticy or times of peril—cool, level-headed, steady © as a rock. At last the corridor was empty, and Garth hastesade Here he found little to do. Fither some one else had~been there ahead of him or down to the floor below. the boys had had more time to be awakened by the alarm bell, which clanged continuously. Tennant made a special point of looking into Car- His Evi-— penter’s room, but found it empty, like the rest. quick eye noticed that Eric’s clothes were gone. dently he had not lost his head, either. So Tennant hurried on to the ground floor. The smoke thickened as he descended, but he was rather surprised to find no other evidences of fire. ‘When he reached. the main floor, however, he dis- a tinctly heard the crackling of flames not far away, and 4 a at once he joined the little stream of boys who were 4 hastening along the corridor with fire buckets. Catch- ing up with the last of them, he found it to be Vincent Schuyler. “Where is it?” he asked tersely. Schuyler glanced around at Pe ee Garth noticed that his face was’a little pale, but! that otherwise he ~ was perfectly composed. “Tt’s got al That's what | it “In the basement,” good start in stores and things there. he answered quietly. makes so much smoke.” “Where's Mr. Merriwell?” Tennant went on... “On the stairs, fighting it,’ Schuyler answered. “We've got to keep it from spreading or the whole building ‘will go.” : es, Garth asked no more questions. He had found ov all there was to know, and a moment later he stepped to the side of Frank Merriwell} where the-latter was directing operations from the head of the stairs, and asked him if there was > anything in particular which he could do. | | Merriwell glanced at him quickly. “Ah—Tennant !” he said ‘iely, “Ate the boys all down?” a tie LOR Garth nodded. “They're all out of their rooms,” he answered. “I nade sure they were out of the upper corridor, and some one else went through the lower one.” “Good,” keep the fire confined to the basement, but there are Merriwell returned. “I’m hoping we can so many combustibles there that the smoke is likely to be dangerous. You'd better stay here and take turns with one of the lines of hose.” Sev- eral lines of fire hose had been unreeled, and streams Tennant did as he was told without question. were being played on the fire. He noticed with ad- miration the way Frank seemed to think of every ssible expedient which would be of use. He was verywhere at once, ordering, directing, ahd even tak- ng a hand at the hose when the occasion demanded. And all the time he was as cool and calm as if he had been watching a ball game. The village fire department had been summoned by ephone, but the snowy condition of the roads made eir progress very slow, so that before they reached the school, the smoke had driven every one outside the ilding, where they continued the fight through the Garth had just taken a turn at one of the hose linés and had staggered back f rom the smoke to get a breath + f air, when the thought suddenly struck him that he d seen nothing whatever of Eric Carpenter. Where was he all this time? Most of the other ys were about, and it certainly seemed as if a fellow e Eric would be in the thick of the fray. : He glanced swiftly from face to face, but the fa- hiliar features were not there. He turned to Reddy e, who stood beside him, his freckled face grimed | d soot-stained. \ “Where? s ees, he asked ork. ” Payne returned. “Must be some- re’s Saas though I haven't seen him. since the sudden, eee cca chill struck Garth to the Was it possible He caught his breath ~The bell! Who was it who had rung the tly. m bell? didn’t I open the door? WEEKLY. 25 The next instant he stood at Frank’s elbow, his face white as chalk and his black eyes like wells of fire. “Who rang the bell, sir?” he asked, in a low voice which trembled a little in spite of his efforts to con- trol it. Frank looked at him in perplexity. “T don't know,” he returned quickly. boys, I suppose. What is the matter.” “Carpenter !’’ Garth gasped. “TI can’t find him. No- I thought——” The look of horror in his torttired eyes finished the “One of the body seems to have seen him. sentence. Frank’s face turned a shade less brown and his lids narrowed. t “Here, take the hose!” he ordered “swiftly. But Tennant did-not obey him. “No, I'll go,” he answered hurriedly. you here. [Il find him.” He whirled about, and before Merriwell could stop: “They need him he haf disappeared into the smoke and dark- ness. As he raced around to the front entrance, he snatched up a handful of snow and moistened a hand- kerchief which he found in his pocket. With this pressed tightly over nose and mouth he plunged into the smoke-filled hallway and darted up the stairs. The bell hung in a small tower which arose ea the main portion of the building and was rung from a closet or loft opening out. of the very corridor in which Tennant had rooms. He had passed that very door without thinking anything about it? And yet, all the time, the bell had been ringing furiously. Some one must have been there then.” "Oh, why didn’t I think?’ he moaned. “Why He’s stayed too long, and now——” , : Reaching the second floor, he deliberately drove his — powerful fist through a window in the hall and thrust his head out to snatch a breath of air. Then he ran on to the next floor. ; : » Without pausing to fill his lungs again, he raced ~ to the door and flung it open. ‘The interior "was dark | cS and silent- ee “Eric!” he cried jesatinely “Oh, Eric!” The next instant he dashed aie, the small, square 26 Lae Oe room, and, stumbling over something which lay on the floor, nearly fell. A moment later he had the body in his arms and, lifting it as if it were a featherweight, stumbled out of the closet and staggered against the wall. The pungent, stifling smoke caught his throat in a smother- ing clutch until he felt as if he must reach the air or perish. With a superhuman effort, he felt his way along the wall until his fingers touched a doorknob. It was the door to one of the rooms whose occupants had closed it after him. There would be less smoke in here. After that it was but the work of a moment to reach the window and smash the ming the door behind him. glass, Nothing he had ever known had felt so good as that breath of pure, cold air. It revived him instantly, and he lifted the limp form of Eric Carpénter so that it would blow directly on his face. To his amazement, quivered and thén opened slowly, revealing the brown eyes gazing straight up into his own with an expres- sion of astonished incredulity in them. “Garth!” Erjc murmured faintly. “You. came?” Tennant nodded. He could not have spoken a word to save his life. Something other than the smoke caught him by the throat and made him dumb. There was silence for an instant. Carpenter's sen- sitive lips trembled. : “TI thought it was the end of me,’ he said, in a low tone. “I stayed too long and coming down the steps I twisted my ankle. The door had been shut— I didn’t know about the smoke. back into the loft—there was more air nae are close the door behind me. After that [ managed to crawl - He stopped and a flicker of pain crossed his face as if the remembrance was not pleasant. The next in- stant the ghost of a smile curved the corners of his Pe haga, fe. | ieee i “Then you came aiken: me and saved my life,” he eta ad abruptly. we, old f low? “We'll be friends always, now.” ot speak, but the a arm which was about Opening it, he almost fell into the room, slam-— AA ° in another moment the lids . “T—we'll never forget” that, will WEEKLY. Eric’s shoulders tightened, and as he nodded a smile lit up his rugged face and made it actually handsome. “And now,” Eric went.on coolly,, “hadn’t we better. I suppose where but I’da little bit sooner be safe outdoors than stop here much be thinking of getting out of this? you came up we can go down again; longer.”’ x *k x k * * k They made the descent safely, thanks to Tennant’s | powerful muscle and indomitable will; for Eric’s in- jured ankle made ‘it almost impossible for him to. walk, and he had to be half carried all the way. Outside, they found that the village fire equipment — had arrived, and with it almost the entire population , of Bloomfield. Under Frank’s direction they attacked the fire with a fresh vigor and to such purpose that toward breakfast time all danger was over. The basement was a wreck and its contents totally ae ruined, but Frank cared little for that so long as there had been no loss of life. That night proved a turning point in Garth Ten- nant’s career. Within a week there was scarcely a more popular fellow in school ; but among all his new friends there was one who stood head and shoulder: And often in the quiet of their rooms—Eric insisting that Garth come above the others in his estimation. in with him—they would find much interest and qui amusement in talking over the time when the bi rugged New Englander had made that mistake. i judgment which caused him so much pain and trou and anxiety, but which now seemed so trivial and f ’ away and unimportant. , 7 THE END. for us. known; or, “The Mysterious ‘dines Brown.” it be able to get it on | Decernber iat at nn oc] at lly Te f- Be ew ers the me tiet big, {4 able far- | tory pirit ‘ome “ases | g off) paper Un-).’ 1 will edies TIP TOP WEEKLY. 27 oY a LY. f6Pthe AvifFican Yotith NEW YORK, December 24, 1910. TERMS TO TIP TOP WEEKLY MAIL SUBSCRIBERS. (Postage Free.) / Single Copies or Back Numbers, 5c. Each. POISE joo Jack weacovctuedasun 65c. WONG YORE ug ticicGecas coke debe w'st $2.50 MOPHOMENG ccc unde cedscccectndéns 85e. 2 copies one year.......\...... 4.00 PROTEUS <2 cccceudntivdstuoteweaes $1.25 1 copy two years.............- 4.00 How to Send Money—By post-office or express money order, registered letter, bank check or draft, at our risk. At your own risk if sent by currency, coin, or postage stamps in ordinary letter. Receipts—Receipt of your remittance is acknowledged by proper change of number on your label. If not correct you have not been properly credited, and should let us know at once. STREET & SMITH, Publishers, 79-89 Seventh Avenue, New York City. Ormonp G. Smitn, Gerorce C. Smitu, ' Proprietors. A NEW MAMMOTH CAVE. The “mammoth cave of Europe,’ as the newly discovered series of subterranean chambers near Obertraun, in Austria, is now called, is described for the first time by Hermann Boch, an engineer, who, with a small party of Alpine climbers, explored the cave, which is situated under the Dachstein, a mountain in Upper Austria 9,800 feet high. The entrance to the cave is at an elevation of some 4,500 feet. Italian road menders knew of the existence of a small grotto here where they had been look- ing around for gold. Behind a great boulder at the end of this grotto the party discovered a natural tunnel which a powerful stream in earlier ages has hollowed out of the rock. At the bottom of this tunnel there was a six-foot-deep river bed, formed by what remained of the earlier stream. Here and there pools of crystal-clear water were found. The tunnel continued for 1,000 feet, and led to an apparently bottomless abyss. The party erawled along the edge of the precipice and up a gallery 150°" feet high, also seared with the action of dried-up mountain tor- rents. At the top a narrow hole was found which led upward to a series of stalactite caverns and then narrowed down again to a curving passage leading downward for 1,500 feet. Suddenly the party came upon a vast hall leading portallike to another still larger dome 340 feet high. Here a cave-in had piled up a conelike heap of débris 250 feet high. From here radiated a -maze of other halls, passages, and galleries, many of which ended precipitately in dark abysses. As food was running short, the party had to return. FISH THAT SHOOTS FLIES. In Queensland some of the most interesting forms of animal life are to be found. The duck-billed platypus—with the web feet of a duck, which lays eggs and suckles young—the lung fish, the walking perch, and many other queer creatures might be mentioned in confirmation of this. A remarkable little fish is the rifle fish, which lives in the far orthern rivers of Queensland. A full-grown specimen, writes a correspondent, measures about ten inches in length and aver- ages one and a half pounds in weight. The rifle fish derives its name from the fact that it shoots its food. It swims leisurely about the stream a few inches below the surface, and is always on the lookout for flies and other insects that settle on the float- ing leaves and twigs or on the surface of water plants. On get- ting close enough to its victim it discharges a tiny jet or ball of water, which, if ‘shot straight, knocks the fly into the stream, where it is instantly gathered in by the shooter. A Short Story by Your Favorite Author. JIM TWILLER’S JUMP. By BURT L. STANDISH. “This yere’s Jim Twiller’s Jump,” said my guide, pointing across the Salado Cafion to the opposite side, which was two hundred and thirty feet away. “An’ this is ther very spot whar he made it.” I looked at the grizzled and weather-tanned old man in sur- prise and remonstrance. “You wouldn’t have me believe any human being ever leaped across this cafion; would you?” I asked reprovingly. “Oh, he was on hossback,” Cale Munson gravely replied, and then he was silent, as if that statement settled it. I looked at the opposite side of the cafion again, and my in- dignation arose at the thought that this old rascal should attempt to impose on my credulity because I was, as he somewhat con- temptuously observed, “a gauldern tenderfoot.” “Look here,” I cried in remonstrance, “if I am a tenderfoot, I’m not a fool! You needn’t expect me to believe anything so ridiculous. I have patiently and unmurmuringly swallowed yout yarns about big gold finds, burning mountains, rivers of fire, and all that kind of stuff, but when you tell me about, a leap of this distance you are going too far.” A sly twinkle came into the old man’s eyes. “I’m givin’ ye ther straight stuff, stranger,” he averred. “I hope ter never draw another breath ef Twiller didn’t make a jump clean across hyer on hossback. You kin hear about it all round in these yere parts, for every galoot knows ther story.” When I was satisfied he was not ‘chaffing me, I asked him to tell me about-it, resolved to watch for any little slip by which I could catch him. ’ “Waal,” he began, “it wuz this yere way: Over yen in the Mogollon Range some greasers hed struck yaller. The ’Paches struck the greasers, and the greasers struck out fer a more healthy section o’ ther kentry. Ther only one o’ ther critters as got away wuz stuck full o’ arrers, and Jim Twiller, as wuz prospectin’ down on the Devil’s Spur, foun’ ther pore devil dyin’ in a dry ravine whar he hed crawled fer water. “Now Jim was allus a tender-hearted chicken, an’ he ‘lowed a greaser was a man, which is ag’in all ordinary reckonin’ in these parts, so he guv the pore devil all the water he could drink out 0’ a white man’s canteen, an’ then he pulled him under the shadder of a big rock an’ made him easy like. “Round these yere parts greasers hain’t loved none whatever. It’s ther rule thet ef ye do ’em a favor they'll stick ye in ther back with a knife fer thanks; but this wuz_an exception to the rule, which goes to show that all dogs hain’t alike. “W’en ther yaller-skin found he wuz shore goin’ ter croak, he ups an’ tells Jim ’bout thet thar find him an’ his pards hed made over yen in ther Mogollon Mountains. Jim might not hev took any stock in it, but the greaser hed some of ther gold along, an’ thet proved he wuzn’t lyin’. “Waal, ther yaller-skin told Jim how ter find ther place, an’ then he passed in his chips. Jim buried him under the big rock in the dry ravine, made fer camp, gathered up his outfit, straddled his hoss, an’ struck fer ther greaser’s rich placer. “Jim reckoned he hed ther directions down purty fine, but them thar maountings,” drawling the word and waving one sinewy hand toward the barren summits of the dead range, “them thar maountings is vile! I know, fer I hev been thar with both feet an’ a muel. Ther section he struck looked as ef it hed bin baked. He skirmished around fer a while tryin’ to find the krick ther. greaser hed told him about, an’ then he happened to run plumb onter a dry pocket. “Thet thar was luck, pure an’ simple. It don’t happen once in ten tousan’ times, fer thar didn’t seem no yearthly reason fer thet gold bein’ thar) Howsutdever, things go to contraries over yen in them thar maountings. “Ther pocket didn’t prove a big one, though Jim took out ernough ter make him feel purty peert; but he ‘loWed whar thar wuz one small pocket like thet thar must be more an’ bigger “ones. So Jim he found some water nigh an’ some feed fer his hoss, an’ he rigged up a shack an’ took ter prospectin’ fer pockets. ; “Thet’s ther most onery unsatisfactory work thet wuz ever tried, as a man kin dig all round a deposit an’ never s’pect it’s thar. Thar hain’t usually any lead ter tell ye which way ter pint yer nose. Pockets is made by freaks o’ natur, ginerally. “But Jim didn’t hey much time fer prospectin’. The ’Patches got arter him, jest ther same as they hed arter ther greasers, an’ 28 J1P? TOP Jim was obliged ter light out hot foot. He hed a good critter with plenty 0’ bottom, an’ he held his own with ther red skunks, not tryin’ ter do any more. “Tt was a stiff chase an’ a long one. As it happened, Jim didn’t know much ’bout this yere section, an’ this cahon can’t be dis- kivered till ye’re right onter it, so he never s’pected ther trap he wuz headin’ fer til he got clean inter it. “Notice ‘thet big gap through ther range thar? Waal, ther wind whistles through thet place in ther “stillest day, an’ w’en thar’s a storm it'll blow a muel off his feet any time. “Tt happened thar wuz a storm comin’ up w’en ther reds got arter Jim. Thar wuz some black clouds hangin’ back o’ thet gap, an’ bout ther time ther red imps wuz yellin’ with delight ter think they’d got a white man in a trap, a comfortable young cyclone came whoopin’ through thet gap an’ cut across the open ‘twixt hyer an’ thar like an express train runnin’ wild. “Jim saw it, fer he wuz lookin’ back now an’ then; but ther "Paches didn’t look round, an’ so they didn’t see it at all. It wuz one o’ them big funnel-shaped clouds thet skims along with its lower pint tetching ther yearth now an’ then, an’ now an’ then jumpin’ up inter ther air. Whar it tetched it ripped 1 things up ginerally, but sometimes it’d make a big jump an’ skim along fer a thousan’ feet ’thout gittin’ down on the ground ag’in. “All to onct Jim saw the kind o’ a trap he’d run inter. Ther cafion cuts back above an’ below, an’ the reds hed spread out ter shut him off from turnin’. They howled with joy, fer they reck- oned on his skelp. “Wen Jim sees thar wuz no way 0’ gittin’ out o’ ther trap, he jest rides full bent fer ther cafion, havin’ made up his mind ter leap his hoss over ther brink. Ther critter couldn’t stop w’en he got to the edge, an’ with a turrible scream it jumped. “Jest then the cyclone, as hed skipped up inter ther air an’ come right over ther heads o’ ther red skins, dropped down ernough ter git a good grip on Jim Twiller an’ his hoss, Them "Paches kem nigh fallin’ dead w’en they saw the critter, with Jim settin’ straight up in the saddle, rise right up inter ther air an’ go Sailin’ over ther cafion jest as purty as you please. It was the big est jump they’d ever seen by a considerable distance. Waal, enderfoot, thet cyclone got holt o’ Jim an’ his hoss jest ernough ter take ’em clean across the cafion an’ set ’em down light as a feather on t’other side, an’ it didn’t seem thet ther hoss broke his run at all. Off he went at a lope, with Jim settin’ on his back as comfortable as you like. Jim he jest turned an’ waved his old hat at the ’Paches an’ gave-a yell, then he rode on an’ was out 0’ sight before long. “Them redskins reckoned Jim wuz in league with the Evil One, an’ sense then they’ve steered clear o’ him as bad medicine. His hoss holds the record fer jumpin’ in Arizony, an’ thet’s a. fact.” [cast another reproach ful and doubting look at the old guide, but he was busy filling his black pipe, and so he knew it not. He seemed to believe the story himself ; the reader may believe it or not, as he pleases. THE BOY SCOUT. By ALTON HORACE, { A few miles from Winchester, Virginia, a scouting paity; sent out from the Union camp, had improvised an encampment. The party consisted of one hundred and twenty-five men, com- manded by Captain Gere. hile the fires were “being built Captain Gere looked thoughtful, “This is comfortable, captain,” said a lieutenant, throwing himself down with an air of relief. “I am as tired as a dog. I could go to sleep within five minutes, if I were not hungry.’ "So could I said the contain “if I were not anxious , about our ere hat is the cause of your anxiety, captain?” “T have reason to apprehend an attack from Mosby. discovered our presence inthis vicinity.” ae have no idea where he is?” oO. Are you sopreheneive of an attack to- ight Pee aa “as possible. Mosby likes to surprise is opponents.” ily 3) is a pity we couldn’ t find out, Paste ae iS, ants what are his A ‘ ; { I would give soclething td a n't detail ‘me, captain, whatever ‘you do, for I couldn't sing my night’s sleep.” han’t impose upon you, lieuten: ertake. W myself b te He is” certainly not far off, and it is not unlikely that he may have WEEKLY. “Here is your man.” said the lieutenant, half jocosely. Captain Gere looked up inquiringly, and his glance fell on a boy of fifteen, with a blacking box slung on his back. “Want your boots blacked, general?” asked the boy. Captain Gere laughed. “I am not a general, my lad,” he answered. “Then you ought to be, sir. You look like one.” “That boy will get on. He understands the potency of soft sawder,” said the heutenant.. “What’s your name, my boy?” ‘Toe Bent?’ “What are your politics ?” “Lm a Union man,” answered Joe promptly. ‘Are you Virginia born?” “No; I was born in Pennsylvania.” “How do you happen, to be here?” “T wanted to come as a soldier, but they wouldn’t take me be- cause | was so young. by blacking boots, running errands, and so on. The captain and the lieutenant looked at each other. same idea came to each. “Joe,” said Captain Gere, “do you want to'earn ten dollars?” “You bet!” answered the boy quickly. “There'll be no danger, except that you may be taken prisoner, The Confederates wouldn’t hurt a boy like you,’ “T’ll risk it,” answered Joe. “What do you want me to do?” The “T want to find out where Colonel Mosby is quartered, and, if — If he means to attack us, I should 7” possible, what are his plans. like to be prepared.” “And you want me to find out?” asked Joe. oy To) cma try it. When shall I start?” “The sooner the better.” “All right, captain. Have you any instructions? “No; I trust everything to your own wit and judgment.” “All right, sir. I'll do my best.” Joe set “off at an easy, Swinging gait, carrying his blacking box. ‘ Though apparently careless, he glanced quickly to the right or left at intervals, remembering his errand. He had walked per-° haps three miles when he caught sight of half a dozen horsemen, ev idently in the Confederate service. “Now’s my chance,” thought. Joe. want.” As the boy trudged along he attracted the attention of: the party. . “Hello, boy!” exclaimed one, in a voice of authority. “What's wanted?” asked Joe indifferently. “Where are you going?” “Nowhere in particular,” tlement want a shine?” “Can you do your work while we are riding?” “I’d rather not try.” “Are you a Yank?” asked another of the party sharply. “What do you take me for?” said Joe, in well-assumed indig- nation. “Good! T’m glad you are on, the right side. Colonel Mosby, we ought to encourage this boy. Joe turned quickly, and looked at the gentleman aitdeceserl He had a curiosity to see the man of whom he had heard so much. “Do you see yonder house, my lad?’ asked Colonel Mosby, ; pointing to a house half a mile away. “Yes, colonel.” “We are going to halt there for supper. we will give you a job.” Joe touched his cap respectfully. “Tl do it,” he said. He hastenéd his ‘pace, and arrived soon after the cavalcate The officers swung off their horses, and calling for a chair to s: down on, each submitted his boots i in turn to Joe’s professiona skill. Joe’s task was not éasy, for they were considerably, worse for Virginia mud. “I am glad to look like a gentleman once more,” the party. , “How long will it last, Fairfax i “Not long, but, while it does, it is satisfaction. — the boy in camp.” “Why not?”. i “Boy,” asked Lieutenant Fairfax, “why don’t you join us \ can give you enough to. do, and you shall fare as well as” > “I may find out what I answered Joe. “Do any of you gen- ie after , sal said onde of us.” “T don’t mind,” said Joe earnestly. “Times are hard reckon I may as wel “All right. What do yes say, colonel aie 2 ee Nee can OPE 2 So I came anyway, and I pick up a living | 4 _ the darkness he found this not difficult. S4P > TOP Joe was secretly rejoiced. All things seemed working in furtherance of his plans. “When shall I join you?” he asked. “Come in and take supper with us,” said Fairfax. we will take you with us to the camp.” Joe was nothing loath, for he had not been accustomed to regu- lar meals, and he felt hungry. After supper, Mosby and his officers held a council, at which they seemed quite oblivious of Joe’s presence. His indignant repudiation of being a Yankee had reassured them. The question was, when to attack Captain Gere’s forces, of whose neighborhood intelligence had been brought by a scout. “T am in favor’of attacking to-night,” said Fairfax. “We don’t know exactly where they are,” objected another Eee “and in the darkness we should have little chance to find them.” “That is a pertinent consideration,” said Mosby. “What is your own view, colonel?” _“To make an early morning start,” said the leader, “say at four o'clock. Then it would be light enough to help us, and we might yet surprise them.” ' To this view, eventually, the other officers came round. _ Soon after supper they started for the camp. Joe was curious to know how far it was. “Can you ride, boy?” asked Fairfax. “Shouldn’t know how to manage a horse,” said Joe, who had reasons of his own for not caring to have it known that he was a daring horseman. “Then I will take you on the saddle with me,” said the good- natured lieutenant. “You look tired.” “You won’t let me fall off?” said Joe, appearing nervous. _ Fairfax laughed. “Oh, I'll take care of you,” he said. Joe was lifted to the saddle, and the party rode on. About three miles away was the camp. It was in the shadow of the woods, in a place well selected both for convenience and secrecy. The force under Mosby was evidently considerably larger than the small detachment under Captain Gere. The sentinel saluted the leader, and the officers sought their quarters. “Where am I to go?” asked Joe. , “Oh, you can bunk anywhere.” “Ts there anything for me to do to-night?” “No you can go to sleep as soon as_you like.” The troops soon retired for the night. They were notified that they must be ready for an early start. ~ But one could not sleep. He felt fatigued, but important busi- ness was before him. He must apprise Captain Gere of the intended attack. Could he find his way back to the Union camp? . He felt that he could, but the distance was formidable. It was probably at least seven miles, and Joe, weary as he was, did not feel in a condition to undertake it. * He tried hard to keep awake, but physical weariness was too much for him. ‘He succumbed to it at last, and slept two hours. When he awoke it was still quite dark; all around him were asleep. Only one sentinel drowsily made his rounds. Joe felt refreshed. “T guess I can walk now,” he said. | 13, The first thing was to escape the vigilance of the sentinel. In He set out pluckily on his rettirn walk, when, as good luck would have it, he came near running against a horse that had broken away from his tether. Joe thanked his stars. He jumped upon the horse’s back— “A fterward luckily the saddle had not been removed—and set his face in the » direction of Captain Gere’s encampment. In an hour he ap- proached the outpost. “Who goes there?” asked the sentinel. “A friend.” “Halt and give the countersign.” “T don’t know it.” a “Then you can’t pass.” : “Tell Captain Gere that Joe Bent wants to see him.” “The captain is asleep.” “Then wake him up. I have important news.’ 4 Joe’s positive tone impressed conviction upon the sentinel, who tured to awaken the officer in command. A Joe Bent?” repeated Captain Gere. “Oh, yes, I remember. It ; my boy scout. Bring himin.” ’ was brought into his presence. Cneat, tad: ll, Joe, what is your news?” asked the captain. f er to be attacked early in the morning by Colonel ef oh ‘ow do you know this?” asked the captain in surprise. ¢ ’ shore cable, and nearing the side of the ctaft. pirate. x BP etd. a Wi ae _ The bullet did not hit, be WEEKLY. “T have just come from Mosby’s camp.” “Ts it possible? Where did you get your horse?” “I borrowed it,” answered Joe, laughing. “You are a brave boy. Tell me quickly how you got into Mosby’s camp.” Joe told his story briefly. “Forewarned is forearmed!” said Captain Gere. done us a great service.” He awakened his chief officers, and held a hasty council of war. The result was that when Mosby approached he found his enemy on the alert, and decided not to attack. His force was pe but it was not politic, he thought, to make an open attack, Captain Gere not only rewarded Joe as he had promised, but authorized him to keep the horse, which, with its accouterments, was of considerable value. Joe disposed of it to advantage, and returned in triumph with the proceeds to his native village, regretting that he was too young to enter the regular service. “You have IN THE VALLEY OF SNAKES. Some years ago my liealth required that I should. seek the climate of-the tropics during the winter months. 1 went to the genial Windward Islands—that fringe of rocky, half-submerged mountains that guards the Caribbean Sea from the assaults of the Atlantic. . From Barbados I went to Port of Spain, Trinidad, and hired a little steam yacht that was about the size of a torpedo boat. I was master of the craft, as soon as the charter was made; but I had a captain, and the rest of the crew consisted of a mate, three deck hand’, an engineer and his two helpers, and the cook, who was steward, waiter, and general man of all work, besides. Thus, you will see, we were tey souls in all, on board. The passage across the Gulf of Paria was accomplished safely, and in two days after leaving Trinidad we were ascending the broad current of the Orinoco; steaming all day, and tying up to the shores at night. Of all the animal life that the trope luxuriate in, the snake is the most characteristic; and I hate a snake as thoroughly as ever did any descendant of Mother Eve. Toward the close of our first day’s run up the Orinoco, the captain told me it was about time to look for a good place to tie up. He explained that it was unsafe to attempt to navigate the river in darkness. " The method of tying up was this: The captain steamed out into the stream about one hundred and twenty feet, and dropped a stream anchor. Then, keeping a line on board, he steamed ashore, wh¢re a stout cable was fastened securely to gne of the © feet of a huge mahogany tree. { ca ' Then the shore cable was paid out until the anchoring place was reached; and when the other line was hauled on board, the little craft swung close by the anchor with the shore cable pulled almost taut by the strength of the current. During the night following our third day’s trip up the river, we tied up near a. little village, and swung our hammocks under the awnings that were spread over the gangways alongside the deck house. : _ About half-past three in the morning, while it was still dark, all hands were awakened by the shouts of the deck hand on watch, who excitedly shouted: ; i * " ane up! Wake up! Dey’s a big snake comin’ right on oard!” , oe The negro’s cry awakened me thorough! light cast by our lantern, a huge anacon reeping along the ~ All my mates were awake by this time, and they, like me, went at once inside the deck house, and hauled in and fastened the wooden shutters that were fitted to keep the sea from break ing the glass in heavy. weather. a Sarno biog must have incensed the reptile. It may have been | his disgust at finding that we had all secreted ourselves. At an ae ae proceeded at once to make as much of a disturbance as _ possible. | Bibi Ra Gn eens ~ He swept down along the starboard gangway to the stern, and then along the port side back to the bow; and then we heard him thrust his head up through the lashings of the awnings the chet of the sack Heuser rey lh eas As he went past the little wheelhouse forward, Captain opened out the wooden shutter, and fired his revolve the noise of Pi I saw, in the dim — nr So Ali mrpia eet TI Eee) LRP sO 30 pistol apparently hurt the snake’s feelings, for he proceeded at once to thresh about the deck violently. Happening to come in contact with the shore line, he took a couple of turns round that, and another about the “bitts” to which the “home” end was fastened. In his contortions he twisted the rope squarely loose from its hold, so that the yacht swung straight out into the stream from the anchor. When my readers remember that the winter months under the equator are about the same in temperature as a hot July or Au- gust in England, they may realize what it was for us to be packed closely within the deck house of this little steamer, and just over the boiler, too, in which there was still a good deal of _ hot water. Meantime the anaconda was careering about the deck in ab- solute command. Captain Thomas and I took chances and fired shot after shot at the intruder. A dozen pistol shots had been fired without apparent success, except further to enrage the huge snake, when at last Thomas muttered : “Pistol bullets won’t settle that fellow; I’m going to give him a dose of buck shot. Half of these bullets must have gone through him, but he only gets more furious with each shot.” Thomas got my Remington breech-loader, and slipped in a couple of buck-shot cartridges. Then, opening the shutter a little, he waited until the reptile came forward on in his circuit around the craft. I stood close by his side to aid, if need ‘ie in closing ahd fastening the shutter. We heard the rdasplike sound of the reptile crawling along the deck just outside. Captain Thomas stood close by the little window with the bar- rels of the gun just protruding outside, when suddenly the great head of the snake appeared in the opening, and made us both start back. The head came inside a few inches, but Captain Thomas’ re- covered himself at once; and fired both barrels. Both charges of shot tgok full effect in the meck, as we found out afterward; but the cfeature plunged forward and landed in- side the wheelhouse, right among us, for his death struggle. As he came in, I confess | was more thoroughly frightened than I had ever been in my life. _When all was over the little place looked as if a cyclone had visited it. The wheel was .wrenched \from its fastenings, and the stool the pilot used was splintered to kindling wood. Captain Thomas had a broken arm, and I had been violently thrown down into the hold through the narrow door behind, and - bruised so that I was lame for more than a week afterward. When we recovered from the scare and began to clear up, the intruder was hauled outside; and then we measured him. He was more than. fifteen feet long, was sixteen inches in circum- ference at his greatest girth, and ten inches around the throat. We discovered on closer examination that the last two shots of Captain Thomas had torn the reptile’s head and throat al- most to shreds; but we. found, too, that most of our pistol shots had taken effect, though they had made no difference to the creature’s vigor. AT THE RIFLE RANGE, Some Territorials were recently mustered at the rifle range to fire their course of musketry. Ail went well till Private Murphy came under the sergeant instructor’s eyes. The sergeant put him in various positions, but all his shots went wide, and he was told to try again. Just as he got his rifle to his shoulder a fly .hap- aS to settle on his fore sight, but Murphy seemed to be indif-\ rent to the fly’s audacity. So the irate sergeant exclaimed : “Knock that fly off your fore sight, you chump.” But Murphy answered as cool as could be: “Orl roight, sergeant ; I be eee through his hind legs.” ‘ 3 HE GOT SHOT. The Smart Man burst into the room. “Heard the news about Dickenson. getting shot?” bc roared, red with excitement. Club members dropped their peer? and sprang suddenly to life. “No!” they cried. “When? Bout half an hour ago iH gasped the Smart Man. there and saw it!” “Where did he get ion? re brokebias ) another. + Down at the ironmonger’s |" uckled the Smart Man, slip- ng | into the best chain: ee aN two peace of it!” “I was WEEKLY. APPLAUSE. Who Will Exchange Post Cards? This is my first letter to “Tip Top,” the king of weeklies, and I-hope this will escape the waste-basket, rubbish pile, and bon- fire where most no-good letters go. There is quite a little bit of history connected with the way in which I got acquainted with “Tip Top.” I was visiting a school chum of mine this~summer, and shortly after I got settled in my room-I picked up what I thought to be a good-for-nothing nickel novel. I looked at it, read a little, liked it, read the whole book; then*I called my chum and asked him if -he had any more. Said he had, disappeared, came back in a few minutes with about ten. Right then and there I sat down and read until supper time, and after. supper until midnight. The next day we went to the store where my chum gets his “Tip Top” during the summer, and.could only get a\gcore of back numbers, so I had to be content with what I could get. Read all of these and all I could lay my hands on during my stay. “Tip Top” deserves its name, and anybody who does not agree with me will have me to settle with, because it is the best and grandest weekly in all ‘the world. Since I have come home I have written for you to send “Tip Tops” as soon as you could... I expect to be in very soon to get some more, and I expect to get all the “Tip Tops” to the present time. Of all the characters I like Dick, and June, and Brad best; then come Frank, Bart, Elsie, Inza, Chet, and of the new fellows, Fritz, Rudie Rose, and Teddy Baxter. I hope and think Dick will get June. Am I right? If any of the boys and girls who take “Tip Top” would like to exchange picture post cards with me, I give you my word of honor that I will exchange card for card as fast as | receive them. Closing with three cheers and a tiger for Burt L., Street & Smith, and “Tip Top,” I remain a loyal Tip-Topper forever. Upper Montclair, N. J. Epwarp E. Cary, Jr. Good Advice from “Tip Top.’ I wish to express thy thoughts in regard \to your famous weekly, “Tip Top.” Having read this weekly for about two years, I can truthfully say it is the finest book printed of its “kind for the upbuilding of the American youth. I have received. very good advice from readin it, and would highly recommend it to every one. Wishing “Tip Top” a long life, I close with three cheers for the king of weeklies. Scott Woopsury. Woodstock, N. H. Best Weekly for Athletes. In order to express my opinion in as few words as possible, I would like to state that I consider “Dick Merriwell’s Friendly Hand; or, The Boy Who Was Saved” one of the best books ever wrtten for the “Tip Top” Library. I, as one, always will consider “Tip Top” the best book for the athlete on the market to-day. I have always found the book very interesting; the baseball, football, and basket ball stories being of especially in- tense interest. \ OrRIN SHURTER. Yonkers, N. Y. Cannot Wait Till Friday. My brother always used to get the “Tip Top” every week, and after he had finished them I used to read them, but he always used to scold me because I was too young, as he said, to read novels. But now, as I am older, I cannot wait till Friday to get the “Tip | Top.” The stories I like are avout baseball, and football. The characters I like best are Ditk, Frank, Brad, Elsie, Inza, June, Chester Arlington, and Fritz. Hoping Mr. Standish will always write stories of clean and good nature as he always has done, I remain, Newark, N. From a Girl Reader. As I have been a reader of “Tip Top” for over three years, | I take pleasure in writing to you. I think it is one of th ‘finest books for the American youth. Mr. Standish must | certainly be a great man to_write such fine stories, One o the best characters in “Tip Top” is big-hearted Bruce Brown- ing. I was very sorry to hear of the sad misfortune which > befell poor Jack Ready. Let us hear some more about littl Frank and_the girls. I wish Mr. Standish would have reunion at Frank’s ranch, and have all of Frank’s old frien there. I hope Dick gets June. What has ever become o: dear little, true-hearted Felicia? ; Nee Owens. Perry, Okla. j H. Koecure ‘ eure, a from the time Dick enters Yale ¢ ¢ " Top” i ~ cousin’s: calves, 12 inches; ing? ‘readers’ method of training, for from what I myself see in the park many “Tip Top” readers, in attempting to keep in training, are most ‘assuredly overdoing themselves. -Merriwell. a years of age? qn advance, I remain of asking your advice on certain things. sess, to a certain degree, the gift of writing fiction. up a rattling good story, but don’t know how to write it; that: TIP TOP $0 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 Exertises, revised by Prof. Donovan. Physical Health Culture, by Prof. Fourmen. Frank Merriwell’s Training. Many a time have I read in “Tip Top” that always in training. What I fancy it to be, ready for anything from a sprint to a long- If this is the case, what kind of training in order that he should always be in train- I know your reply would correct many of your worthy Pror. FourMEN : Frank Merriwell is is that he is always distance run, etc. should one take up _ New York City. ‘It is hard for the average young man to obey the strict rules of training all the time. If a strong-willed man sets out to Mitton Kowarsky. control his -habits, diet, etc. and follow a vigorous system of exercise, he can be always in perfect training as well as Frank Extremes are always bad: overtraining is more injurious than undertraining. A large supply of reason and “common sense js one of the most important factors in an ath- letic life. Two Well-developed Cousins. Pror. Fourmen: My cousin and I have been readers of “Tip for the past two years. We take the liberty of sending our measurements. The following measurements are my Height, 5 feet; weight, 85 pounds 5 chest; 30% inches; thigh; 1614 inches; waist, 26 inches; age, 12 years. Will you kindly explain his faults and how to remedy. them? The following measurements are mine: » Height, 5. feet; weight 85 pounds; chest, 29 inches; calves, 12 inches; thigh, 16% ‘thchés ; ewaist, 2614 inches. Kindly explain my faults and how tO remedy them. We both “play baseball, football, and basket ball, and’ run, swim, and box. Are we up to the average of 12 Wishing success to “Tip Top,” ~and thanking you A Loyat “Trp-Topper.” you Yonkers, Ne¥y You and your cousin are apparently very well-trained and developed lads. Keep up the good work. Your waists might _/' well be a couple of inches smaller, and that can be brought about by careful exercise of the abdominal muscles. Becoming a Writer. Pror. Fourmen: As a reader of “Tip Top,” I take the liberty I can think is, I do not know how to express it. cation I could write well. dvisé me to do? I believe if I had an edu- I mean to get one. What would you ' BeLMont PR ite Detroit, Mich, An earnest, sincere’ ambition to write is thbught by many to e the’ \only. thing netessary to literary success. If Rin ambi- ptorien way. The road is a long nist and infinite ‘iatieice ndustry are required, but the pate rea to the true lover ' profession. 1 believe that I -pos- WEEKLY. 31 edge of English grammar and rhetoric, and read all the good literature you can get hold of. ‘ Too Light in Weight: Pror. FourmeN: I am 16 years and 2 months old; height, § feet 9 inches; weight, 135 pounds; chest, 32 inches; waist, 29 inches. How are my measurements? Am I too light for my measurements ? A at Whitewright, Texas. You are about twenty pounds under weight, and your chest should be increased by systematic breathing exercises. An Admirer of Dick Merriwell. Pror. FourMEN: As Annapolis is rather a difficult place ‘to obtain information about, I decided to write you about a boy going there. In the first place, I am not ready to go there, as I expect to go to college about two years first. I want you to tell me what things have to be studied to go there. Also of the tutoring you have to haye after getting there. I also want to Ask you if, by keeping myself-in proper physical condition, I could enter physically. I am almost 15 years old; chest, 31 inches; height, 5 feet 2 inches. Am not subject to sickness of any kind. I once had typhoid fever, but the doctor seemed to think that after it was over I was better off than before I had it. Do you think it can affect me after I get older? Some people seem to think so. I would give anything in the world to be like Dick Merriwell. What do you think of him as a character? I am asking you this out of mere curiosity, and hope you will answer it. I am very fond of the stage, and although I do not think I will take it as a profession, I delight in taking parts in amateur performances. What is” generally the outcome of a pack of amateurs traveling in States with a good show? This may seem foolish, but I want you to tell me this. With a show that is very good it seems that in the summer a good amateur troupe could do very well traveling, when the professional season is dull. JoHN MAYFarr. Greensboro, Ala. ‘ : If you prepare for college and spend two years there, you will have no difficulty with the Annapolis examinations. A good, industrious student needs no tutoring there. If you keep yourself in good training, you will certainly have no difficulty with the physical examination. Typhoid, properly treated, rarely reappears in’ any form. We would all like to be like Dick Merriwell. As a perfectly balanced, manly, Christian fellow, we consider him very near the ideal. You are wise in regarding © the stage as a diversion rather than a profession. A good amateur troupe can pick up quite a bit of money on a short trip, and have no end of fun. Baseball as a Profession. Pror. FourmeN: Being an old “Tip-Topper,” and seeing that | you pass your opinion on jobs and trades in your page of “110 co Top,” I would like you to give me your opinion of baseball as a I am a young man and very clever at the game, | and would like to know if I could make a livelihood. 3 Nashville, Tenn. JNo. BUELL. There is a great demand for clever ball players among the professional teams, and very large salaries are paid to desirable™ men—salaries much itr excess of a mere livelihood. As a career, baseball cannot be said to be a very high ambition, but any — honest, earnest ambition is worthy and creditable. You must — decide for yourself whether you love the sey enough to make © it your life work. Mending a Broken Nose. Could you advise me as to how a broken nose could be fixed, and where such treatment could AS had? Have been‘a reader of “Tip Top” for about two years. Anx- e Pror. FourMEN: iously awaiting your reply, I am, Norfolk, Va. By all means go to a reputable, piiencaliy surgeon, great danger in such cases is from the. fake treatment o various | quacks advertising to. work wonders. with the h features. Consult the best | ee in veer es and / RoLanp er e, boc in hts eee : oun TIP TOP WEEKL \ THAT CAN NOW BE SUPPLIED 241—-Frank Merriwell’s Kick. 5 248—Frank Merriwell’s ‘Brassie” 5 ” * lod * ° vo 538—Dick Merriwell’s Resentment, 634—Dick Merriwell’s Distrust. 707—Dick Merriwell’s Gambol. 54—Dick Merriwell Repaid. 635—Dick Merriwell’s Risk. ; 708—Dick Merriwell’s Gun. 55—Dick Merriwell’s Staying Power 636—Frank Merriwell’s Favorite. 709—Dick Merriwell at His Best. Shot. 246—Frank Merriwell’s Mastery. 556—Dick Merriwell’s Push.” 637—Frank Merriwell’s Young 710—Dick Merriwell’s Master Mind 247—Frang Merriwell’s Dilemma. 557—Dick Merriwell’s Running. Clippers. 711—Dick Merriwell’s Dander. ppers 249—Frank Merriwell’s Search. 558—Dick Merriwell’s Joke. 638—Frank Merriwell’s Steadying 712—Dick Merriwell’s Hope. 250—F rank Merriwell’s Ring. 559—Dick Merriwell’s Seven. 713—Dick Merriwell’s Standard. and. 251—Frank Merriwell’s Party. 560—Dick Merriwell’s Partner. 639—Frank Merriwell’s Record- 714—Dick Merriwell’s Sympathy. 253—Frank Merriwell’s Skill. 561—Dick Merriwell in the Tank. eakers. 715—Dick Br 254—Frank Merriwell’s Club. 562—Frank Merriwell’s Captive. |640—Dick Merriwell’s Shoulder. Land Merriwell in Lumber nd. 255—Frank Merriwell’s Scheme.) — 563—Frank Merriwell's Trailing. 641—Dick Merriwell’s Desperate 716—Frank Merriwell’s Fairness. 469—Frank Merriwell’s Retaliation. 564—Frank Merriwell’s Talisman. 717—Frank Merriwell’s Pledge. Work. 485—Dick Merriwell In Manila. 565—Frank Moerriwell’s Horse. 642—Dick Merriwell’s ee 718—Frank Merriwell, the Man of 486—Dick Merriwell Marooned. 566—Frank Merriwell's: Intrusion, 643—Dick Merriwell At Gale’s 488—Dick Merriwell, Gap-Stopper. 567—Frank Merriwell’s Bluff.® erry. ‘ Sih 489—Dick Merriwell’s Sacrifice Hit 568—Dick Merriwell’s Regret. 644—Dick Merriwell’s Inspiration. 490—Dick Merriwell’s Support. 569—Dick Merriwell’s Silent Work. 491—Dick Merriwell’s Stroke. 570—Dick Merriwell’s Arm. 492—Dick Merriwell Shadowed. 571—Dick Merriwell’s Skill, 493—Dick Merriwell’s Drive. 572—Dick Merriwell’s Magnetism. 6 bs t ‘ ae ee Merriwell’s Return. 573—Dick Merriwell's System. 649—F rank Merriwell in the Saddle 495—D , 496—Dick Mérriwell’s Value. 575—Dick Merriwell’s Twirling. 651—T'rank Merriwell’s Red Guide 497—Dick Merriwell’s ‘‘Dukes.” 576—Dick Merriwell’s Party. di) i is RB 498—Dick Merriwell’s Drop Kick. 577—Dick Merriwell’s Backers. 655—Dick Merriwell’s Strength. La Grit. eee Merriwell’s Return ow. 645—Dick Merriwell’s Shooting. 720—Frank Merriwell’s Quest. 646—Dick Merriwell in the Wilds. 721—Irank Merriwell’s Ingots. 647—Dick Merriwell’s Red Comrade 722—Frank Merriwell’s Assistance. 648—Frank Merriwell's Ranch. 723—Frank Merriwell at the 4 Y Throttle. ck Merriwell’s Restoration. 574—Dick Merriwell’s Salvation. | 650—F rank Merriwell’s Brand. 724—Frank Merriwell, the Always y Hee, 652—Dick Merriwell’s Rival. 725—Frank Merriwell in Diamond nd. 499—Dick Merriwell’s Defeat. 578—Dick Merriwell’s Coach. 654—Dick Merriwell's Secret Work 726—Frank Merriwell’s Desperate 500—Dick Merriwell’s Chance. 579—Dick Merriwell’s Bingle. 655—Dick Merriwel.'s Way. Chance. nk Merriwell’s Black Ter- 501—Dick Merriwell's Stride. 580—Dick Merriwell’s Hurdling. 656—Frank Merriwell’s Red Visitor 727—Fra 502—Dick Merriwell’s Wing-Suit. | 581—Dick Merriwell's Best Work. 657—Frank Merriwell’s Rope. ror, 503-—Dick Merriwell’s Skates. 582—Dick Merriwell’s Respite. 658—F rank Merriwell’s Lesson. RaB Soc peer Again on e Slab. | 504-—Dick Merriwell’s Four Fists. 583—Dick Merriwell’s Disadvantage 659—Frank Merriwell’s Protection 505—Dick Merriwell’s Dashing Game 584—Dick Merriwell Besct. 660—Dick Merriwell’s Reputation. 729—Frank Merriwell’s Hard Game 506—Frank Merriwell’s Tigers. 585—Dick Merriwell’s Great Rival. 661—Dick Merriwell’s Motto. 730—Frank Merriwell’s Six-in-hand 507—Frank Merriwell’s Treasure 586—Dick Merriwell’s Distrust. 662—Dick Merriwell's Restraint. 731—Frank Merriwell’s Duplicate. Guard. 587—Dick Merriwell, Lion-Tamer. 663—Dick Mcrriwell’s Ginger. 732—Frank Merriwell on Rattle- 508—Frank Merriwell’s Flying Fear 588—Dick Merriwell’s Camp-site. 664—Dick Merriwell’s Driving. snake Ranch. 509—Dick Merriwell in Maine. 589—Dick Merriwell’s Debt. 665—Dick Merriwell’s Good Cheer. 783—Frank Merriwell’s Sure Hand 510—Dick Merriwell’s Polo’ Team. 590—Dick Merriwell’s Camp-Mates 666—Frank Merriwell’s Theory. 734—Frank Merriwell’s Treasure 511—Dick Merriwell in the Ring. '/ 591—Dick Merriwell’s Draw. 667—Frank Merriwell’s Diplomacy. 512—Frank Merriwell’s New Idea. 513—Frank Merriwell’s Trouble. 593—Dick Merriwell’s Mastery. agement. f ; Z the 514—Frank Merriwell’s Pupils. | 594—Dick Merriwell’s Warm Work 669—Frank Merriwell’s Great Work 736—Dick 515—Dick Merriwell’s Satisfaction 595—Dick Merriwell’s “Double 670—Dick Merriwell’s Mind. the 516—Dick Merriwell’s Discernment. Squeeze.” 671—Dick Merriwell’s “Dip. 737—Dick 517—Dick Merriwell’s Friendly }iand 596—Dick Merriwell’s Vanishing. | 672—Dick Mecrriwell’s Rally. 738—Dick 518—Frank Merriwell’s New Boy. 597—Dick Merriwell Adrift. a ) ] ~ §19—Frank Merriwell’s Mode. 598—Dick Merriwell’s Influence. 674—Frank Merriwell’s Bullets. ap. 592—Dick Merriwell’s_Disapproval. 668—Frank Merriwell’s Encour- 735—Frank Merriwell, Prince of Rope. Merriwell, Captain of Varsity. Merriwell’s Control. Merriwell’s Back Stop. 673—Dick Merriwell’s Flier. 739—Dick Merriwell’s Masked En- emy. 520—Frank Merriwell’s Aids. 599—F rank Merriwell’s Worst Boy. 675—Frank Merriwell Cut Off. 740-—Dick Merriwell’s Motor Car. 521—Dick Merriwell’s Visit. 600—Frank Merriwell's Annoyance 676—Frank Merriwell’s Ranch Boss 741—Dick Merriwell’s Hot Pursuit. 522—Dick Merriwell’s Retaliation. 601—Frank Merriwell’s Restraint. 677—Dick Merriwell’s Equal. 742—Dick. 528—Dick Merriwell’s Rival. 602—Dick Merriwell Held Back. 678—Dick Merriwell’s Development. 743—pDick Merriwell at Forest Lake Merriwell in Court. 524—Frank Meérriwell’s Young Crew 603—Dick Merriwell in the Line. 679—Dick Merriwell’s Eye. ’ 525—Frank Merriwell’s Fast Nine. 604—Dick Merriwell’s Drop Kick. phy ee frereiwell's oe a eee Macceratl' oes é " rel]! > 605— : ’ 7 581—FF e yell’ ence, 4 R 526—Frank Merriwell’s Athletic 605—Frank Merriwell’s Air Voyage. ran erriwell’s Pa ce. 746 Dick Merriwell’s Subterfuge, Field. 606—Frank Merriwell’s Auto Chase. 682—Frank Merriwell’s Pupil. 527—Dick Merriwell’s Reprisal. | 607—Frank Merriwell’s Captive. 683—Frank Merriwell’s Fighters. | 528—Dick Merriwell Dared. 608—Dick Merriwell’s Value. 684—Dick Merriwell at the “Meet oe 529—Dick Merriwell’s Dismay. 609—Dick Merriwell Doped. , 685—Dick Merriwell’s Protest. 49-—Dick 530—Frank Merriwell’s. Son. 610—Dick Merriwell’s Belief. § 686—Dick Merriwell in the Mara- 750—Dick 531—Frank Merriwell’s Old Flock. 611—Frank Merriwell in the Mar- th 751—Dick §82—Frank Merriwell’s House ket. Party. 612—Frank Merriwell’s Fight for 688—Dick Merriwell, Driver. -533—Dick Merriwell’s Summer Team Fortune. 689—Dick Merriwellon the Deep. 753-—Dick 534—Dick Merriwell’s Demand. 613—Frank Merriwell on Top. 690—Dick Merriwell in the North 754—Dick 535-——Dick Merriwell’s Slabmate. 614—Dick Merriwell’s Trip West. Woods. 755—Dick 536—Frank Merriwell’s Summer 615—Dick Merriwell’s Predicament 691—Dick Merriwell’s Dandies. 756—Dick Camp. 616—Dick Merriwell in Mystery 692—Dick Merriwell's “Skyscooter” 757—Dick 537——Frank Merriwell’s Proposal. Valley. 6938—Dick Merriwell in the Elk 538-—-Frank Merriwell’s Spook- 617—-Frank Merriwell’s Proposition Mountains. 758-—Dick hunterg 618—-Frank Merriwell Perplexed, 694—Dick Merriwell in Utah. 759—Dick 539-—Dick Merriwell’s Check. 619—Frank Merriwell’s Suspicion. 695—Dick Merriwell’s Bluff. 747—Dick Merriwell’s Enigma. Merriwell Defeated. Merriwell’s “Wing.” Merriwell’s Sky Chase, Merriwell’s Pick-ups: non, 687—Dick Merriwell’s Colors. 752—Dick Merriwell on the Rocking R Merriwell’s Penetration. Merriwell’s Intuition. Merriwell’s Vantage. Merriwell’s Advice. Merriwell’s Rescue. Merriwell, American. Merriwell’s Understand- _ ing. Dick Merriwell’s Sacrifice. 620—Dick Merriwell’s Gallantry. 696—Dick Merriwell in the Saddle. 760—Dick ‘Merriwell, Tutor. —Dick Merriwell’s Heart. 621—Dick Merriwell's Condition. 697—Dick Merriwell’s Ranch 761—_pick 542-—Frank Merriwell’s New Auto, 622—Dick Merriwell’s Stanchness, Friends. 762-—Dick 543—Frank Merriwell’s Pride. 623—Dick Merriwell’s Match. +698—Frank Merriwell at Phantom {esc 544—Frank Merriwell’s Young 624—Frank Merriwell’s Hard Case 763—Dick Merriwell’s Quandary. Re Merriwell on the Boards. — Merriwell, Peacemaker. 4a ce, 625—Frank Merriwell’s Helper. 699—Frank Merriwell’s Hold-back. 764—Frank Merriwell’s Sway. 4 ) eRe Merriwell, Freshman. 631—Dick Merriwell’s Money. D Bc \ D52—Dick =— 3 PRICE, FIVE CENTS PER COPY If you want any back numbers of our weeklies and cannot procure them from your newsd obtained direct from this office. Postage.stamps taken the same as money. Winners. 545——Dick Merriwell’s Lead. 626—Frank Merriwell’s Doubts. 700—Frank Merriwell's Lively Lads 765—Frank Merriwell’s Compre- 546-—Dick Merriwell’s Influence. 627—Irank Merriwell’s “Phenom.” 701—Irank Merriwell as Instructor hension. : 547—Dick Merriwell’s Top Notch. 628—Dick Merriwell's Stand. 702—Dick Merriwell’s Cayuse. 766—Frank Merriwell’s Young — 8—Frank Merriwell’s Kids. 629—Dick Merriwell’s Circle. ' 703—Dick Merriwell’s Quirt. Acrobat } 8 ay 549-——Frank Merriwell’s Kodakers. 630—Dick Merriwell's Reach. 704—Dick | Merriwell’s Freshman ro, rout Avrolta (rae F Friend. te Merriwell’s Progress. 632—Dick Merriwell Watched. 705—Dick Merriwell’s Best Form. , 768—Frank Merriwe'’s Unknown. — Merriwell, Half-back. 633—Dick Merriwell Doubted. 706—Dick Merriwell’s Prank.' 769—Frank Merriwell’s Acuteness. y ealer, they can be — “4 tg STREET @ SMITH. Publishers, 79 Seventh Ave., New York Cite’ Lie ate ne Riera Yo NUMBERS OF DHE TIP TOP WEEKLY WILL BE FOUND IN THE NEW MEDAL LIBRARY A few years ago, we were obliged to disappoint thousands of boys who wanted the early adventures of Frank and Dick Merriwell which were published in Tir 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 501 of TIP TOP WEEKLY. Our experience with these books has taught us that thousands of boys are overjoyed at this opportunity to secure their favorite 150—Frank 167—Frank 178—Frank 184—F rank 189—F rank 193—F rank 197—F rank 201—F rank 205—Frank 2090—F rank 213—F rank 217—Frank 225—Frank 2290—F rank 233—Frank 237—Frank 240—Frank 244—F rank 247—Frank 251—F rank 254—F rank 258—Frank 262—F rank 267—F rank 271—F rank 276—Frank 280—F rank 284—Frank 288—F rank 292—F rank 296—Frank 300—Fi1ank 304—F rank 308—Frank 312—Frank 316—Frank 320—Frank -324—F rank 328—Frank 332—Frank 336—Frank 340—F rank 344—Frank 348—Frank 352—Frank stories in a more permanent form. Merriwell’s School-days. Merriwell’s Chums. Merriwell’s Foes. Merriwell’s Trip West. Merriwell Down South. Merriwell’s Bravery. Merriwell’s Hunting Tour. Merriwell in Europe. Merriwell at Yale. Merriwell’s Sports Afield. Merriwell’s Races. Merriwell’s Bicycle Tour. Merriwell’s Courage. Merriwell’s Daring. Merriwell’s Athletes. Merriwell’s Skiil. Merriwell’s Champions. Merriwell’s Merriwell’s Merriwell’s Danger. Merriwell’s Loyalty. Merriwell in Camp. Merriwell’s Vacation. Merriwell’s Cruise. Merriwell’s Chase. Merriwell in Maine. Merriwell’s Struggle. Merriwell’s First Job. Merriwell’s Opportunity. Merriwell’s Hard Luck. Merriwell’s Protégé. Merriwell on the Road. Merriwell’s Own Company. Merriwell’s Fame. Merriwell’s Merriwell’s Merriwell’s Merriwell’s Merriwell’s Prosperity. Merriwell’s Stage Hit. Merriwell’s Great Scheme. Merriwell in England. Secret. Problem. Fortune. Merriwell on the Boulevards. Merriwell’s Duel. Merriwell’s Double Shot. Return to Yale. College Chums. New Comedian. 3590—Frank 362—Frank 365—Frank 368—Frank 371—F rank 374—F rank 377—F rank 380—Frank 383—Frank 386—F rank 3890—F rank 392—F rank 305—Frank 308—Frank 401—Frank 404—Frank 407—F rank 410—Frank 413—Frank 416—Frank 419—Frank 422—Frank 425—Frank 428—Frank 431—Frank 434—Frank 437—Frank 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 446—Dick 449—Dick 452—Dick 455—Dick 458—Dick 461—Dick 464—Dick 467—Dick 470—Frank Merriwell’s Glory. Merriwell’s Merriwell’s Merriwell’s Merriwell’s Merriwell’s Merriwell’s Merriwell’s Merriweil’s Wonders. Promise. Rescue. Racket. Revenge. Ruse. Delivery. Merriwell’s Honor. 473—Dick Merriwell’s Diamond. 476—Frank Merriwell’s Winners. 479—Dick Merriwell’s Dash. 482—Dick Merriwell’s Ability. ae Dick Merriwell’s Trap. Dick Merriwell’s Defense. Narrow Escape. PRICE, FIFTEEN CENTS, 356—Frank Merriwell’s Baseball Victories 491—Dick Merriwell’s Model. 494—Dick Merriwell’s Mystery. 497—Frank Merriwell’s Backers. 500—Dick Merriwell’s Backstop. 503—Dick Merriwell’s Western Mission. 506—Frank Merriwell’s Rescue. 509—F rank Merriwell’s Encounter. 512—Dick Merriwell’s Marked Money. 515—Frank Merriwell’s Nomads. 518—Dick Merriwell on the Gridiron. 521—Dick Merriwell’s Disguise. 524—Dick Merriwell’s Test. 527—Frank Merriwell’s Trump Card. 530—Frank Merriwell’s Strategy. 533—Frank Merriwell’s Triumph. 536—Dick Merriwell’s Grit. 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. 569—-Frank Merriwell in the Rockies. 572—Dick Merriwell’s Pranks. 575—Frank Merriwell’s Pride. 578—Frank Merriwell’s Challengers. 581—Frank Merriwell’s Endurance. 584—Dick Merriwell’s Cleverness. 587—Frank Merriwell’s Marriage. Published about October 18th. s90—Dick Merriwell, the Wizard. Published about November 8th. s93—Dick Merriwell’s Stroke. Published about November 2oth. 596—Dick Merriwell’s Return. Published about December 2oth. 5909—Dick Merriwell’s Resource. STREET & SMITH, Publishers, New York CITY