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Issued Weekly, By subscription $2.50 per year. Entered as Second-class Matter at the N. Y. Post Office, by STREET & SMITH, 79-89 Seventh A; ¢., WV. V..
Copyright, 1911, dy STREET & SMITH.

f A.
_—

No. 882.

NEW YORK, November 4, rg1t.

Price Five Cents. _

FRANK MERRIWELL’S FORGIVENESS:

OR,

The Boy Who Had Another Chance.

 

By BURT L, STANDISH,

 

CHAPTER I.
DROPPED TO THE SCRUB.

Dropped to the scrub!

Bob Wendell, still dressed in his football togs, sat
hunched down in a chair, his chin resting on his hands,
his eyes staring moodily at the door. He had man-
aged to hold himself together as long as there was any
one to see him. But, now that he was shut in his own
room, the rage and humiliation which had filled him
almost to overflowing for the past two hours found in-
stant expression.

Dropped to the scrub!

-- After four weeks of strenuous effort, of rigid train-
ing and single-minded endeavor, he had, in a single
moment, been summarily turned down; his place on
the eleven had been given to Leavenworth, one of the
substitutes, and a fellow whom he had always been
accustomed rather to look down on from the height

_ of his seemingly unassailable superiority.

fit Phillips, the captain, had given no real reason.

There had been some vague talk about Wendell’s in-
‘decisiveness of character and lack of initiative, which

pennant

“we Md > _ Bd etry ieee heave’ >
Ri ca RRR CT TR RT RE ST Sega er Ne ke
a . may ey os ow 4 - 4 €

made him more or less slow in getting under w Ry
But Bob knew that was all tommyrot..

“Of course,” Phillips also told him, “you under-
stand that it is only a trial. Leavenworth may not
make good at right guard. But I want to try him out
and see if he doesn’t develop a little more speed’than
you have, Bob. It’s quite possible he may not pan out

at all, and in that case you'll be back in a few days.

I hate to do it, old fellow, but I’ve got to think of the
team first and do my best to strengthen it regardless
of any personal feelings. But then, you understand
that, of course.”

Wendell had forced a careless smile and assured him’
that he did understand perfectly. Not for the world
would he have shown any of the fellows how hard hit
he was at the blow which had come so unexpectedly.
He would take his medicine without whimpering, if

only to disappoint the fellows who would have been far

too glad to see, him shamed and humiliated.

Yes, he understood—perfectly. He was a fool not
to have expected it and been on the lookout for a move
of this sort. He might have known that ‘it would

    

   
5 TIP TOP

come sooner or later. Phillips had never liked him,
‘even at the start, and the feud between himself and
Don Shasta, the quarter back, one of the captain's
closest friends, rapidly widened the breach.

“The little runt leads him around by the nose,” Wen-
del] muttered, “and gets him to do anything he wants.
He’s the one I've -got to blame for this. I'll bet he’s
been working to get me out from the very beginning,”

Like many other fellows, Bob Wendell was lacking
in a sense of proportion. :

It was impossible for him at any time to survey
things from any but his own point of view. . And, when
in a rage, as he was at the present moment, his sense
of justice reached almost the vanishing point.

He hated Don Shasta intensely, for the simple rea-
son that the brainy, rather quick-tempered quarter back
had never cared particularly for him, nor been at the
least pains to hide that fact,

_ Shasta was, perhaps, the most popular, best liked
boy at Farnham Hall, though no one could explain ex-
actly why. He was impulsive, inconsequent, and hot-

tempered. He could, and often did, ruffle a fellow to

the point of incoherent fury, by a few pithy, well-
chosen remarks. He was frank and open to an unusual
—almost an uncomfortable—degree, for he never
made false pretenses of any sort. If a fellow bored
him, or did not appeal to him, he shunned that fellow
Without hesitation. Life was too short, he said, to
waste time with persons one did not care for’ when
theré were always plenty of nice chaps around.

‘That there were plenty around him was due to an
elusive something Shasta possessed: which made almost
everybody like him. If he could rouse a boy to anger
in record time, he could also soothe him into perfect
-amiability in less. A smile,a joking word or two, a
_ friendly clap on the back, and it was done.
~ Wendell had been one of those who bored Shasta,
-and the fact had been made plain without delay.

i Unfortunately, instead of resigning himself quietly
- tothe inevitable and seeking his friends’ elsewhere,
- Weridell. made+the mistake of persisting. He con-

sidered the circle which revolved about Shasta to be |

the most desirable coterie in school. He wanted to
be one of them, and so he kept on trying until. he

was thrown down so hard by the expert quarter back
that intense hatred of the mercurial youth filled Wen-

q dell from that moment. ies |
! | ‘Wendell reasoned with the masterly simplicity of the
_ heavy-minded. : |

If he hated “Shasta, it followed without question

‘backward Would be rec

around the

that the ‘quarter back detested him. He really believed

 

WEEKLY.

it, not being able to understand the volatile chap’s attr
tude of absolute indifference,

Wendell should have known better, however, than to
Crest Jim Phillips with ulterior ie in dropping
him to the scrub, Shasta and Phillips were great
chums, to be sure ; but the captain of the team was not

a ‘
at all the sort to allow friendship to interfere with, F
influence, his Judgment,

Perhaps, had he n

ot been in gs Wendell
would have compreh uch'a rage,

ended this, and perhaps not: ee
" events, he was mad through and Ganeed at what
© considered the injustice of it all. a
eck : oe Whole bunch of ‘em,’ he muttered
across the cee " a tag began stalking back and fone
If I don't pa re Te a lot of low-down mucket®: |
eee ste em up, I’m a dub. Phillips and Shast@
© worst, though, and [’]] ‘make them good an¢
sorry they ever did this.’ a
Not being POssessed of
ever, an approp
did not occur to

: a very fertile brain, how"
bas and satisfying means of reveng®
1m.

He could not very well pick a quarrel with Shast@

f :

fe aoe tee er ae Dis ny a

deposed” guard, ae wey Only further humiliate the

and he ; Nothing else came into his min
save up puzzling Over it for the moment to COM

sider a frat
He a oe which was troubling him.
0 how y
not. Ow whether to stay on the scrub of

fir 2
‘ st impulse had been contemptuously to refuse

make a work |

10rse ae a rore
few might = pimself so that the favor”

receive t is
had been“on th ig requisite amount of practice. = —
€ tip of his tongue to tell Phillips he

could find someb
s 0 , .
refrained, dy else for that role, but somehow h&

Tf he did that, he

part in an y
y of the A substitute can alway

hope, and Ww
i ro W endell cared too,much for the game to put
seit’ deliberately. jn that position eee
It was goj 7 '
get nee be 5 °° Pe almost intolerable, however 1
suppress a oe nee few days. He could picture the
PPressed grins and overt Sheers with which his falling _
“ived by certain fellows on bot
hemies, No doubt at this vert
hered downstairs, of congregate™ —
alking it over. (Pe
abnormally thin-skinned; but

teams who were his ¢
moment they were gat

ah showers, t
Wendell was not

$

somehow, he felt an OV

 

 
 

Tie. TOP

the room and stood by the table. “I wish there was
somewhere I could go so I wouldn’t have to see any-
body.”

A moment later, as if in answer to his unspoken
wish, his eyes fell for the first time upon a letter lying
_ half under a magazine. It had come in the noon mail,
and some one must have brought it up to his room.

“From Clarence!” he exclaimed aloud, as he picked
it up. “Wonder what he’s writing about.”

Ripping the envelope impatiently, Wendell: twitched
out the inclosure and read it swiftly. As his eyes fol-
lowed the sprawling lines, they brightened and he fin-
ished with an exclamation of pleasure.

“By Jove!” he exclaimed aloud. “He wants me to
come over to Haddon for Sunday. Say, that would be
all to the good, and I’d get away from seeing those
dopes around here for a bit. I wonder if they'll let me
gor”

CHAPTER II.
A RESPITE.

Clarence Fellows was a student at Haddon Prepara-
tory School, which was situated some eighteen miles
from Bloomfield. He was a cousin of Bob Wendell’s,
and the two had always gotten along well enough to-
gether, though they had never been very close friends.

The invitation to spend the coming Sunday with
him, though it might not ordinarily have appealed
greatly to Wendell, was exactly the thing he had been
looking for. ;

To-day was Friday. If he could only obtain per-
mission to make the brief visit, he would leave about
noon the next day, returning Monday morning. In
this manner he would see none of the fellows for two
days, and by Monday afternoon the matter of his
humiliation. would be an old story.

He could scarcely wait until supper was finished to

hurry over to Frank Merriwell’s house and make the ,

request for leave of absence.

Merry hesitated at first, for it was not his policy
to let the boys make visits of this sort during the school
year. He had been on the field that afternoon, how-
ever, and witnessed Wendell’s reduction to the. scrub.
Having a pretty good knowledge of human nature, he
understood what an intense disappointment it must be

wt to the lad, and knew intuitively that things would be

easier all around if the unlucky fellow were out of
the way a day or so. \ .
“T have no objection, Wendell,’’ he said, at last, “pro-
vided you get Phillips’ permission to cut practice to-
\

WEEKLY. : 3

morrow. I fancy he’ll let you off for that single after-
noon.”

“Thank you, sir,’ Wendell returned gratefully.
“I’m very anxious to see my cousin. I don’t think
there’ll be any difficulty in filling my place on the
scrub.”

Frank smiled a little, quite ignoring the bitterness
in the fellow’s voice.

“Probably there won’t, for a day, anyway,” he said.
“Be sure you take that first train back Monday morn-
ing, though.”

Wendell promised readily and hastened off to find
Phillips and get the necessary permission. Then he
sent a wire to his cousin to meet him at the station.

That done, he felt considerably better, though the
sight of Shasta and one or two other members of the
team, laughing and joking together in the hall, fanned
the flame of his anger to a white heat.

They were talking over his downfall, of course, and
making merry about it. He was a very self-centered
young man, and it did not occur to him that any one
else could fail to view the matter in as important a light
as he did.

“Never mind,” he said, as he passed the group, head
high and face averted. “I’ll get even with you yet, you
little runt. I'll make you sweat blood.”

It was with intense relief that he stepped aboard the
twelve-forty train next day.

For almost forty-eight hours he would not lay eyes
upon a single inmate of Farnham Hall. There would
be absolutely nothing to remind him of the unpleasant
event which made him rage whenever he thought of
it. He would be in a different place, with an entirely
new lot of fellows. As he took his seat and opened
the magazine he had bought, he made up his mind to
enjoy himself to the utmost, leaving the question of
getting even until after hjs return.”

Clarence Fellows, short, stocky, and sandy-haired,
was on the platform when the train pulled in. As Wen-
dell alighted, he rushed forward and grabbed his hand. .

“Well, you old slob, how are you?” he said, grin-
ning. “Didn’t think they’d let you come, till I got your
wire.” A

“Neither did I,’’ Wendell confessed. “Mr. Merri-
well doesn’t usually. But I managed to work it.”

| Fellows winked slyly.

“Pull, eh?” he suggested. .
_ “Sure,” returned the Farnham Hall boy readily. “He
thinks everything of me. I’m the original prize pack-
age in Bloomfield, let me tell you.”

 
- surprise I’ve had in a long wh

LIER TOP

“T believe you,” scoffed Fellows. “Well, let's get on.
My ninety-horse power Reindeer is out of commission
just now, so we'll have to hoof it. Good for you,
though. It’s only two miles.”

0 only a sinall bag, Wendell was not averse
to the walk. The cousins left the station and set out
i little village.
long the main street of the i
‘ Pra special doing this Sunday ?’’ Wendell in-

quired presently.

Fellows laughed. ue

“Not a darned thing,” he chuckled. I just wanted
to see your ugly mug before we smash it all up on the

ridiron next Saturday.”
: “The deuce you will!” said the Farnham Hall man,
forgetting for an instant his grievance. “We're going
to put it all over you dopes.”

Then he remembered, and scowled. He was not

oing to play in the forthcoming game, and it did not
ae mtch to him who won. It would serve the
stuck-up bunch right if they were licked out of their
boots. nee :

Fellows apparently did not notice the frown,

“Ton’t be too sure of that,” he admonished. “We've
ot a dandy little team this year, and a corking fine cap-
aie By the way, how the mischief did you get: off
Both practice to-day? I was wondering about that
before and forgot to ask you.”

Wendell smiled bitterly.

“That was easy,” he returned shortly.

“T don’t see how it was,” Fellows persisted. Why,
Con Phelps, our captain, would never think of letting
a chap off practice.” \ : :
“One of the regular team, perhaps, Wendell said
bitterly. “I don’t guess he’s so mighty particular about
the scrub, though.” :

Fellows whirled around, his eyes wide.
“Scrub?” he repeated incredulously.
The Farnham Hall lad nodded slowly.
sion was not a pleasant one. ss
1 “Exactly,” he returned, with a hard smile. I was
ieee : terday.”
_. dropped to the scrub yes :
4 eelinee gave a long whistle of astonishment. .
“Well, well!” he commented. “That's the biggest
ee | What in time was

His expres-
\

_ ‘the reason for that?”
- Wendell’s lips curled.

oh a a dn’t happen to be a friend of the quarter back,

Don Shasta,” he said significantly. “He and Phillips
are great pals, you know.” - |

WEEKLY.

The Haddon chap nodded underst
“So that’s how thin
pursed-up lips.

andingly. a
gs are run, is it?” he said, wit®
“Judas Priest! that’s hard lines. d
should think you'd want to get after this Shasta 4m
give him what’s coming to him.”

Clarence’s tone was not altogether. one of regrets
Though he seemed sorty for Wendell, there was a
faint undercurrent of something like satisfaction
his voice. Hig “yes remained fixed upon his cone iy
a thoughtful, half appraising, almost absent sort ne
way, as if he were turning over something in his nun —
which was intimately connected with the chap from
Bloomfield, 3)

“Get after him!” the latter repeated sharply. we
do you take me for, anyhow? Did you think I “a
going to sit stil] and not do a blamed thing? Trou

is, T can’t think Up a way to get even.”
Fellows hesitated a minute.

“Can’t you get him into a scrap and smash the fae
off him?” he suggested at length. .
Wendell shook his head, ,

“Nix on that!” he said decidedly. ‘“He’s about e
best boxer in the school, and I never took a less? ;
The shoe would be On the other foot! for fair.”

“Hum—yes, I Suppose so,” Fellows agreed absently.

“That makes it bad. How about Phillips? Hea scrap
per, too?” :

“More or less. No,
I wish I could think
crowd at once.
heads.” i

Fellows’ lips parted, and he seemed about to 54
something, Before the words came, however
changed his n

: one
. und, and for a moment there was silen“
“No chance at all of

team?” he as

1 ae
it’s got to be something a
of a way that would hit the w ited”
I'm sore on that bunch of swells OG

he
your getting back onto ™

ked present]
“No, of course not,”

got the old song-and-d
out, but you know
Fellows nodded.
“Hot air,” he com
to pluck a lon
He chewed
before he tre
panion;

| «“
Wendell replied scornfully- :
ance about it’s being inet a
well enough what that means.
mented succinctly, bending a
§ Piece of grass from the roadside. Be
meditatively On this for some little : a
Marked, Without glancing at his on
“Only one way I see that
whole push at once.”
“What’s that?” Wend
“Fixit so they won’t

you can get even with

ell asked eagerly. _

eit
if ad A:

| t win the game next, Saturday
Fellows ‘explain | 8

/ Sed

ed tersely. sl Me ip

 
TIP TOP

CHAPTER III.
THE TEMPTER.
Then both

For an instant there was dead silence.
boys glanced swiftly at each other.

“You mean—signals?’’ Wendell asked,
tone.

“Sure,” nodded Fellows.

His companion looked away, and a slow flush be-
gan to creep up into his face.

“T—thought of that,” he acknowledged.
like the idea, though.”

“Why not?”

The Farnham Hall chap frowned.

“Oh, you know why,” he replied impatiently.
dirty trick. It’s working against the school.
but a mucker would do that.”

Fellows shrugged his shoulders.

“Don’t see it,” he returned. “‘What kind of a trick
do you call it to throw you off the team the way they’ve
done? That’s about as rotten a thing as I’ve heard of
in a long time. They don’t deserve to win the game.”

“Still,” Wendell objected, “that doesn’t really give
me any) license to play the traitor.”

Fellows sniffed.

“Tommyrot! You'd be only paying them back in
their own coin. It would pay ’em good, too.. They’re
cocksure of winning, and they’d be the sorest bunch
you ever saw if things went against them. It’s the
only way you can get even with them all at once, and
it strikes me yon ought to be obliged to little Willy for

thinking of it.”

But Wendell looked anything but obliged. For some
time he strode along biting his lips and scowling. Out
of the corner of his eye Fellows watched him keenly,
trying to fathom what was going on in his mind.

in a low

“IT—I don’t

“Tt’s a
Nobody

“Tt’s kiddish of you to feel that way,” he said at
length. “You've been thrown off the team unfairly,
and you don’t owe them a thing. Strikes me as a cork-
ing chance to pay the whole crowd up, and I don’t see
why you hesitate. I’m sure I'd jump at it.”

“Think if it was found out, ee ” Wendell ob-
jected.

Fellows laughed.

“You're bughouse!’”’ he exclaimed. “How the mis-

chief would it be found out? Suppose you hand over |
the signals to me, how are they going to get wise that

we have them? They'll think we’re a mighty clever
- bunch, that’s all.

(% tj ‘the other team knows his signals.”

In the rush and hurry of a game,
there isn’t a man living that can tell for certain that

WEEKLY. | 5

“Tt might leak out through some of you fellows,”’ the
Farnham Hall chap protested.

“T’ll look out for that,” his cousin returned briskly.
“Till guarantee that not one of our boys’ll blab. So
don’t you worry your nut about that.”

He stopped abruptly as they came out of a bit of
woods and saw before them the athletic field of Had-
don School. There were already a number of boys
about, a few in football togs passing a ball in a desul-
tory manner. But the majority were simply strolling
about or watching the tennis players on the courts on
the farther side of the gridiron,

On a little rise some distance beyond the field, stood
the buildings. They were of wood, painted white and
arranged in an irregular rectangle. The whole estab-
lishment was decidedly smaller than Farnham Hall, but
for all that it looked very homelike and comfortable.

“Well?” Fellows questioned, his eyes fixed intently
on his companion’s face.

Wendell squirmed uncomfortably.

“T’ll—think it over,” he returned slowly.
have to know right away?”

“Oh, no. But the sooner you decide the better.”

“Well, I'll decide one way or the other before I
leave,’ Wendell said, with an air of relief at being —
able to put off the vexing question.

“There's really only one way to decide,’ Fellows re-
minded him. Then he started forward briskly. “Well,
come ahead and meet the boys. I want you to know
Con Phelps particularly. He’s a dandy!”

“Is he on the field?” Wendell inquired interestedly,
his eyes roving swiftly over the more or less familiar
scene. | |

“Don’t see him, but he’ll be along soon. Practice
is due to start at three sharp. Sorry I can’t ask yon
to watch it, but that would hardly do.” :

“No, of course not,” the Farnham Hall chap agreed
hastily. ‘Do you have to stay?”

Fellows grinned.

“They'll find it hard to get along without my mana-
gerial advice, of course,” he chuckled. “Seeing as I
have a guest, though, I’ll try and wrench myself away
this once. Come ahead. There’s Con just showing

”

up. |

He led the way toward a group of fellows in foot-
ball togs, who had just appeared on the farther side
of the field. In a few.moments Wendell was shaking
hands with a number of boys, getting their nates and ¥
faces hopelessly twisted. 3

“Viou don’t

He had no difficulty, however, in remembering. the
captain of the team. Pa

 
TIP TOP WEEKLY.
6 |

on't get a start by being chummy with i ;
ination to him, he looked at Wendell with nice crowd in the beginning, you'll be shoved Ota

was Pe es ges Zs and gripped his fingers yourself, like as not.
ae 4 un which made the Farnham Hall boy

hick crop of curly brown hair, the kink of-which jf you d
thick cr

s oy
But, if he’s so rotten poor, he |
he expect to enter Yale?”

Fellows shrugged his shoulders.
“You've got me,’

Soak ee aa he said prey “Clarence .
ere coming over. Sorry I can’t tee HOS *
a : ti late, and I want to commence practice. a
; ate ask ve to watch it, though I ee ae
would be very interesting to you. But, of course,

“he returned. “He’s a determined |
rooster, and I don’t think there’s a doubt of his enter |
h the year look a
and all that. He isnt
to go in for athletes }
dy else does. It isnt

mek re
s shown his grit befor

ing if he’d be content to go throug
after furnaces, shoveling. snow,
that kind, though. He wants
and do everything that anybo
that he’s afraid of work. He’

3

derstand 3 s
ae Wendell interrupted, with a smile
: e . v
“That would be hardly in order, would it

now. He simply wants to ge
“Not quite,” laughed Phelps, “seeing as we'll be up

lege life there is to be ha
ree Well, by-by for a to Manage it, I don’t know
7 her in just a week.

against each ot

while. I'll see you a little later.

als
t everything out of m
d, and ‘just how he’s going

”

r

“Can’t he tutor?” W
hustled off, followed by the other members of ge aah 5 Tag fe
He hustle ;

: anion turned Suppose it'll come out
y Wendell and his comp : ‘
the teams, and it does, for he’s one
ol.
_ slowly toward o Ua he?” Wendell commented, chaps I ever knew.
r ET is a good s ’

endell suggested. ;
much of,a star in that line.

somehow, though. I sure hope
of the Straightest, most dete
If he could only enter Yale with-

ec oeee ne Hee An SOR oct being hampered, [’1] bet he’d be the most populat
his eyes roaming over the

a tis Gist
to rest on the group of white buildings. fellow in his ¢ ass
o re ;

‘< face
Peak for a moment. His fa

iS
© was a deep wrinkle between e :
eyes. Somehow, the thought of Con Phelps made him
. d you?”
poverty, woul

feel‘mean and small. He did not believe that a clap
i ted.
Wendell looked interes ae
“Really?” he questioned. “Why, I ae : :
don School was a rather expensive one, as they go.

« ’ dell did

és tr,” Fellows agreed promptly. “You'd or i ; 1 ibe s
oe ris look at him, that his family is poor as__ was clouded, and ther

never think, to é

“So it is,” Fellows returned. “But Seat is |

_ to keep his head above e . aL ree vi, CHAPTER [y.

ae cae — Oe ita our head master, is a
puting the ae d helps him along. You see, Fellows seemed to have a shrewd idea of what Me |
Seay ie Yale. For that reason he passing in his Companion’s mind, for he made haste to
— eae fieanee He’s got the right interrupt Wendell’s train, of thought. — ies.
wants a good prep-schoo n enter any big college by “Well, let’s not stay mooning here,” he said briskly.
ae Ot KeUit se. _ ont 4 assing the exams, but “You'd better take a look Over the school, and leave er
boning away by himself ee Re he’s in. Most of your bag in my room, Then we might have a set . i
he never really gets ined ae el prep school; and two of tennis, Da racket and sora shoes
the fellows hep eae Sc udnihink auntie alr da Shnls “ahche stat 2 nd 3
pr *t star %

! a. to be left out of things altogether.’

THE DECIsion.

\

I can scare u

Wendell roused himself
acquiesced readily, |

_. Anything was better

Wendell nodded. | ie

than bothering his head and

 
ALP TOR

depressing his spirits over a matter which would not
have to. be decided far another whole day, at least.
Under his cousin’s guidance, he inspected the school
and was much pleased with it, though inwardly he de-
cided that Farnham Hall was preferable.
Haddon was comfortable enough and rather pictur-

esque, but it had been built. by degrees and lacked »

many of the conveniences of the larger school, besides
being far from as well equipped.

3y dint of raiding the room of one of his friends,
who happened to be about Wendell’s size and build,
Fellows secured a pair of flannels and some. tennis
shoes. From another room the racket was forthcom-
ing. Thus equipped, they sought the tennis courts,
where they were able to play two sets before football
practice was over and the crowd started back to the
gymnasium where the showers, locker room, and the
like were situated.

As the two cousins left the courts to join the others,
Wendell suddenly bethought him of something he had
meant to say.

_ “By the way, Clarence,” he remarked, in some em-
barrassment, “I don’t suppose it’s necessary to say
anything about my having been dropped from the
team. ’’.'

we 5
Considering everything, it'll be

“Not.in the least,” Fellows returned promptly.
hadn’t. intended to.
much better.to let the fellows here think that you're

: still.on it. If you decide about that—er—matter the
way you ought to, they won't be nearly so quick , to
guess where my information has come from, as they
would if they knew you'd been thrown down only yes-
terday.”

Bob frowned. __ " .

“T don’t see how they can fail to guess, anyhow,” he

‘protested, “considering that I’m your cousin and visit-
ing here, and all the rest. A fool could eye two and
two together i ina case like this.”

y "Fellows winked ‘significantly at him.

“Dott t you worry, Bob,” he said soothingly. “Can't

¥ 3 5a

48 you, trust your Uncle Dudley to frame up a good story?

»pm pretty clever. at that sort of thing, if I do say it.

myself. T’'ll bet I can work it so that not a man on

f yh vine beam will.really know.”

WEEKLY.

That his cousin had always been more or less adep
at deception was quite true, and Wendell took some
comfort in the fact. His earliest recollection of Fel-
lows was of a boy with an almost uncanny ability of
evading responsibility.

When the two had spent their summers on a grand-
father’s farm, it was Clarence who planned, and often
helped to execute, various pranks and forbidden amuse-
ments, but never Clarence who was found out and pun-
ished. Usually that role had been reserved for Bob,
and more than one fight had resulted. |

In those days Wendell had hated his cousin and
detested the underhand methods which now he remem-
bered with more or less relief, as he felt that Clarence’s
agile brain could, indeed, be depended on to make up a
plausible story.

As they joined the crowd in the gymnasium, Wendell
made a strenuous effort to forget the matter which
was worrying him, and was presently taking part in
the talk and laughter and joshing, as well as any
stranger could. |

He found the fellows a very decent lot, but somehow
Conant Phelps impressed him more favorably than any
of the others. There was a certain honest directness’
about him which, together with the faculty of making
a stranger feel as though he were one of the crowd,

pleased Wendell immensely.

He saw at once just what Fellows meant. when he
said that the chap would be popular at Yale. There
, When |
he was discussing any subject, he had a way of making

was a breezy freshness in everything he did,

it seem as if he were vitally interested in that one
matter above everything else. There was no pretense
about it, either. He really was interested in a great
many things, and he had the gift of concentration to a
remarkable degree. IS Ed eae
Naturally the principal subject of discourse was foot-
ball in general and the-approaching game with Farn-
ham Hall in particular. EES Ws Gi aces
“We're going to give you boys a run for your money,
anyhow,” Phelps laughed, when a few of them congre- ae
gated in Fellows’ room that evening. “Of Course we 4

haven’t the material to pick from that you have, but ;

the team’s better this year than I've ever known it,

 
3 TIP TOP

You didn’t make such a great showing against Wells-
burg High, either, did you, Wendell?”

The Farnham Hall chap shook his head.

“Not very,’ he returned. “But we were handi-
capped by losing one of our best men the very day of
the game, besides having two or three others, including
the quarter back, knocked out in the second quarters.
The game should never have been scheduled so early,
either. We hadn’t had three weeks’ practice, and you
know what that means when a whole team has to be
picked out and coached.”

Unconsciously his tone was defensive. He had not
yet become used to the feeling of being on the scrub,
and for the moment he had forgotten that he was de-
termined to get even with the entire team. :

Phelps nodded understandingly.

“Yes, of course,” he agreed at once. “It’s hard in
any case. But when you haven't any old men to form
the backbone of the team, it must be something fierce.
Staying at the school only a year, [could never under-
stand how you fellows did so well. I suppose it must
be your coaching.” |

“That’s just it,’ Wendell returned. “Mr. Merriwell
is one of the finest football coaches in the country, and
he takes.no end of pains with us. We'd never do any-
thing if if wasn’t for that.” :

“Great work, Bob,” Fellows remarked, a little later
when they were left alone. “That spiel of yours was
just right for putting them off the ‘track and making
them think you were all for your team winning the
_ game. J never supposed you could be so slick.”

Wendell looked annoyed.

“It happens that it, wasn’t done intentionally,” he
said stiffly. “I really meant it at the time.”

He wasangry with his cousin for intimating that he

had been deliberately working to bring about an effect.

_ He disliked, also, the way Fellows seemed to be tak-
ing it for granted that he meant to play the traitor.
He had not yet made up his mind, and the chances of

his deciding against it were more than even.

The stocky chap, seeming to understand that he had
made a false move, did not continue the subject, but
‘branched off onto something else, inwardly berating
Wendell for, his indecisiveness.

You’re good at that

WEEKLY,

Had the decision lain with F

ellows, he would not
have hesitated for a single ins

tant to take advantage

of suc cc
han excellent chance for revenging himself with

almost no risk of being found o
Sunday passed quietly,
enjoyed himself more had i

ut.
The visitor would have

t not been for occasional
twinges of conscience whic

then, Particularly w
Phelps.

The captain of the H
and

h assailed him now and
hen in the company of Conant

addon team seemed so frank

whi
ich Phelps would regard him, could he have had /
any conception of wl

te lat was passing in his mind.
t was not a pleas

he almost decided { . thought, and more than once
venge some othe : ive up the idea and get his ee
the least feasib » Way. The fact that nothing else 11

€ occurred to him, was what kept him

from telling Felio |
against the scheme. qad decided definitely

The result of all this
und

cr don’t like the idea,’
him for a decision.

he said; when Fellows pressed . 4

“T don’t See what’s th
with some tartness.

dred of your being £

© Matter with it,” he rejoined,
“There isn’t a chance in a hum-
: ound out,” .
I wasn’t thinking of that,” Wendell returned rather

vaguely. “It’s so beastly low-down and revieewaill??

“Rot!” sniffed Fellows, «
slobs back in their OWN coin,
going to do it as effectually any

Wendell sighed,

It's only paying those —
I can’t see how you're
other way.” .

That's just it,’ he complained. “Neither can I,

see why you couldn’t think

‘Up something else, if you,
put your mind to it,” _ . Ce

4 C } b 4 ; :

 

 

 

pee ss

Sort of thing, Clarence. I'doft't”
TIP TOP’ WEERLY.

' Fellows frowned.
«Well; I can’t,” he almost snapped.
If you don’t take it, I wash my

“T’ve thought
up one good idea.
hands of the whole business.
as all that, and mean to let those dubs walk all over

If you’re so squeamish

you, it’s none of my affair.”

A prolonged silence followed, during which the boy
from Farnham Hall sat hunched in a chair looking
anything but happy.

He wanted intensely to get even with the fellows
who had humiliated him, but the innate sense of de-
cency and loyalty to his school, of which he had a
little in his make-up, made his cousin’s plan extremely
distasteful. .

Besides, there was Conant Phelps.
could not get him out of his mind.

Somehow, he

“Took here, Clarence,” he said suddenly, “you'll
never persuade Phelps to use the signals if I give them
to you.”

Fellows suppressed a slight start with difficulty. This
was the one point in which he had anticipated trouble,
and he was surprised that his rather slow-witted cousin
should have thought of it.

“Don’t let that worry you,” he said nonchalantly.
“That’s up to me, you know. All you have:to do is to
~ turn them over, and I’ll see to the rest.”

Another pause followed, during which the sandy-
haired lad regarded his companion anxiously out of
the corner of his eye.

Apparently Wendell was approaching a favorable
decision. But he knew that it might not necessarily
come to anything. Bob was quite likely to change his

mind at the last moment on the slightest pretext or
) none at all.

Fellows had the sense to see that perfect silence was
his rdle. The time for argument had gone by.

For a long time Wendell sat scowling at the floor.

“You're perfectly certain nobody’ suspect?” he
asked, at last, glancing up at his cousin.

*Qf-course they won't,” the latter hastened to as-
sure-him. “I'll fix it so they won’t have an idea. You
can.trust me to do that, can’t you?”

“I suppose so,” grumbled Wendell.

He stood up with a sigh and went to the window.

“Well, Pll do it on two conditions,” he said pres-
ently, without looking around. “T’ll give you the sig-
nals. But you've got to promise not to use them unless
you can do it without giving me away.”
“You
needn't be a bit afraid of that. What's the other con-
dition ?”

“Sure thing,” Fellows returned readily.

“If Phelps objects to using them, I want you to drop
the whole thing without making any effort to argue
him into it, and send them back to me.”

He had come to the conclusion that if a fellow like
Conant Phelps could bring himself to making use of 7
the signals, he himself would not be doing anything sO
awful in giving them.

It was more or less of a conscience salve, and. also
an easy way of letting some one else settle the ques-
tion for him. Privately he had no doubt whatever
that Phelps would refuse to have anything to do with
the matter, in which case he would be let out.

Fellows raised his eyebrows in amazement, his .

When he spoke
an instant later it was in a tone of perfect agreement.

parted, and then closed quickly again.

“That would naturally follow, Bob,” he said slowly.
“If Con won't have anything to do with thém, I can’t
very well force him. In that case, they wouldn’t be an
earthly bit of use to me.” e

Wendell turned and caught his eye.

“And you won’t try to wheedle him into it?’’ he ques-
tioned. “If he refuses after you've put the matter to -
him, it’s understood that you let it drop for good and
all?” : : toed

“Sure,” lied Fellows instantly.

He had no intention whatever of. abiding by his
promise. But, being a chap more or, less lacking in
any moral sense, he had no hesitation. in making it,

though he meant to break it the next minute. t
Wendell straightened up as if a load had been re-
moved from his mind, and walked over to the table. —
‘Well, under those conditions: I'll do it,’ he saa
decidedly. ‘“Where’s some paper?”

Furnished with a pad, he’sat down and wrote stead- -

ily for some minutes, only pausing now and then to ©

 
10 TIP TOP
make sure he had forgotten nothing. When he sae fin-
ished he handed the sheet to Fellows, who took it hur-
riedly as if fearful that the indecisive youth might
; is thind.
ne ca talking,” he remarked lightly, ee
the paper into his pocket. “Ifthis goes through, you'll
have squared things with that swelled-up bunch good
and proper. You ought to be darned glad that I hap-
pened to think of such a good scheme. chy
| But Wendell did not look particularly glad, and his
face did not belie his feelings. In fact, he ty role
felt facie mean and despicable and ashamed in all his
life than at this particular moment.

CHAPTER V.
REMORSE.

Bob Wendell’s feelings as he came out for practice
on Monday afternoon were rather mixed.

He expected, to begin with, that Shasta and the

- restiof that crowd would welcome his appearance with

some signs of triumph at his Senta hHES they
did not, when they paid no more attention to him than
_ they did to, any other members of the scrub, he was
: actually disappointed. | , Nes:
_- The'truth was he had counted on their antagonistic
attitude to fan the flame of his resentment. He needed

something of the sort to keep his temper stirred up and

- stifle the qualms of conscience which had been ae
ing him at irregular intervals eve since he handed tha
_ paper to. Clarence Fellows the night before. ss

oe Had he been met on the field by shrugs and anak
Ge the eyebrows, had the men who, he told ee
“were responsible for his downfall, shown the faintes

" syinptoms of gloating over him, he would have been

hee able to bolster up his inner self with the cee that
eae he had done was only something well, deserved
es af d well eatned—the paying up of an underhand action
by ote equally mean. 3 a
‘Unfortunately he was not allowed that mental satis.
Sation ee :

Bae bh alone, Mae hey $ cogl and indifferent.
Shasta’s manner, to be sure, was cog

But, from the very beginning of their acquaintance, the

when he had a sudden sir

WEEKLY.

quarter b

to be nice to Wendell, The other fellows greeted the.

ack had never put himself out in the slightest |

deposed guard pleasantly enough, while Phillips EVEN

took the trouble to ask him how
to Haddon,

there whom he }

he had enjoyed the trip

lappened to know.
No one, apparently,

in. Their treatment of Wendell was, if anything, a de-

gree pleasanter than it had been while he remained on
the regular team,

resented it bitterly,
“They're so glad I’m out
the trouble to be decent,’
serve "em good and rig
two. I'll certainly ‘enjo
This subterfuge suffic
remorse at bay.

he told himself angrily. “It ll

Y watching the process.”

It required something of

a Mental effort, to be ott
In spite of himself there ¢

ame moments now and the u

oy d oht
iking feeling at the ee
the more awful possibility oF

were. it discovered.
However, in Spite of ey

through the afternoon in
deliberately refrained fron
had been his first impulse, ¢
Just in time he bethought
which would show how s
If he did So, and the fac
out ever became known, }
to suspicion than jf he
being resigned to the inevitable. | ae

of what he had done and
what would be his lot

erything, he managed to get
comparative comfort.

ab
team with Phillips, and strol
Garrett Strawbridge, ‘Don
Played right tackle on the ele
__At thus happened that
all the showers Occupie
hall outside on 4 bene
stairs leading to the ;
sight of any one coming down, ©

He was alone on the b

ven,

’
ui 4

pane
af ‘ S13 x Ae

and inquired about several of the boys:

had any intention of rubbing it

And, instead of being glad, Bob

ht to be taken down & peg eh

Consequently he made a special effort to be agree- ai
le, talked over what little he had seen of the Haddon i
led back to the school ee)
Shasta’s roommate,’ Rie
when he got upstairs he found
d.” So he took’ his seat: ine
h placed ditectly ‘beneath soe
Corridor above, and quite ot%6f

be datas oe a
| ench, and had not bette
many minutes before Phillips and’ Strawbridge tant

Vo
Vian ‘ i i } i y ar :
vg 4% f .

of the way that they take va

ed for some little time to Kee}

FAG es
1 hurrying off the field, a8 ‘
he instant practice was aid m ‘a
him that he must do nothing ie
ore and disgruntled he was- :
t that the signals had leaked Be
1€ would be 1nuch more liable —

had the appearance now oy iy

 
TIP STOP

along, glanced into the shower room, failed to see Wen-
dell in his corner, and then strolled to a window near
the bottom of the steps, where they stood looking out.

“Notice how decent Wendell was to-day?” Phillips
remarked presently. “I never thought he’d take it so
nicely,”

-“Nor I,” Strawbridge agreed. “I tell you, Jim, it’s.a
mighty tough thing to be dropped from the team the
way he was. If it had happened to me, I'd been
grouchy as a bear with a sore ear.” ;

“It is tough,” the captain acquiesced. “T hated like
the mischief to do it, for Bob’s a, good fellow, if he
is a bit touchy at times. And he’s worked like a steer
and not missed a single day since we began. He's too
slow getting started, though. You know that your-

self.”

“Yes, I suppose so,” wd
sympathize with him, though, for that used to be my
fault before Don took me in hand. Is Leavenworth

an improvement?”

Strawbridge returned.

“So far as speed goes, yes. I can’t say I care so

much about him in other respects.
Garry, I’ve misjudged Bob a lot. I always had a no-
tion he was inclined to be something of a poor sport.
But, after the way he’s behaved to-day and Friday, I

Do you know,

can see it’s just the reverse. He’s got his full, share
of grit to laugh and fool when he must have felt like
the mischief.”

‘As he listened, Bob Wendell felt his face grow red-
der and redder until it must have been flaming. Fora
moment he tried to tell himself that they had seen him
and were talking for his benefit. But, even in his more
or less bewildered condition, he could not make him-
‘self believe anything quite so absurd as that.

They were speaking without the slightest idea that
he was within hearing distance; and what they said
must be the truth. a’

And he had blamed Shasta for it all! He had in-
sisted to himself and to*Fellows, the only one with
- ‘whom he had spoken of the matter, that he had been
dropped because Shasta and one or two others on the
eleven disliked him, when all the time it was for a
_ very simple, ordinary reason. He had not been up to
the standard of the team, that was all. °

{
$

Paha oi He cnc itc rh iS fe

WEEKLY.

He had nothing to blame any one for.

He was just enough to understand that Shasta was
under no obligation to like him. His wrath and indig-
nation had been because he believed the mercurial chap
had worked to bring about his downfall for personal
reasons alone, whereas it would appear to be nothing
like that. : |

Wendell felt as if the last prop had been knocked
from under him, letting him down into a bottomless
abyss.. A rush of shame overwhelmed him and made
him long to get back to his room and shut himself in.
He would have fled at once had there been any way.
But the two fellows by the window made it impos-
sible for him to do that, and in the other direction
the corridor led into quite a different part of the
building.

There was nothing for it but to stay where he was.
Drawing his bath robe tightly about him, he edged
farther into the corner. At any moment, Phillips and
Strawbridge might take it into their heads to come
around to the bench, and he felt that he simply could

not face them now.

Probably he was never so relieved in his life as when

a couple of: fellows emerged from the showers and
raced down the corridor. In an instant, before the
two by the window could even turn around, he had -
dashed through the doorway into one of the vacated
compartments. Pigs

Kicking off his slippers and throwing the gown aside,
he stepped under the spray without a moment’s delay.
He scarcely felt the tingling of the cold water, arid was
away from it in another minute, rubbing himself hur-
riedly with a towel. ;

Through it all, his one intense desire was to get away
where he could think things over quietly.

He did not want to see any one, nor talk with any
one. For he felt as if it would take very little to break
down his self-control.

All about him the fellows, laughed and joked with
one another from the various compartments or yelled
frantically from under the showers. He heard Phillips.
and Strawbridge come in and take possession of some

more of the vacated booths. And the instant they were

.

 
I2 TIP TOP WEEKLY.

under cover, Wendell slipped into his things and has-
tened out.

He reached his room without being held up, closed
the door, and turned the key. Then, standing in the
middle of the floor, he asked himself for the first time
a definite question.

What had he done?

Without the faintest shadow of a reason, he had
played the traitor and betrayed his comrades. He was
contemptible beyond everything. He realized, now
that it was too late, that nothing under heaven should
have induced him to take that step. . Nothing could ex-
cuse it. Even had things been as he at first supposed,
or worse, it could not make what he had done any
less despicable. Because others did not play fair, was
no reason why he should lose all sense of decency and
honor.

And they had played fair. That was the worst of it.
That was what made him cringe under the lash of his
own thoughts and wish miserably, desperately, that he
could turn back the hand of the clock twenty-four

’ hours.

But was it still too late? Perhaps Fellows had not yet
made use of the information he had given. On second
thought, it was quite likely that he would take his time
in broaching the subject to Conant Phelps.
| Perhaps there was yet time to stop him,

e With renewed hope, Wendell flung his towel aside
and dragged up a chair to the table. With trembling

_~ fingers, he snatched a sheet of paper and began a letter

to his cousin, Halfway through the rather incoherent
_ appeal he stopped abruptly.
e “A wire will be better,’ he muttered. “That'll get
to him to-night, or the very first.thing in the morning,
at the latest. I’ll have to work it out so nobody’ll
guess what I mean, though.” i
es Tearing the half-finished letter into tiny fragments,
_ he tossed them into the wastebasket and bent to the
_ other, briefer task. It proved, however, to take longer
; than he had expected. It was not easy to put his mean-
ing into words which would be understood by Fellows
alone. 3 ‘f |
He wrote and tore up a dozen messages. The sup-
per bell rang, but he paid no heed.

$

what I thought,

pe Must get the message off to-night. He was be-
ginning to be frightened now at the possibility of dis-
covery. Just why his treachery was greater than it ee
had been before, he did not reason out, He simply felt
afraid, and horribly shamed, and des

| perately anxious
to retrieve his wrongdoing

before it was too late.
ss So he wrote and tore up, and wrote and tore up :
again—and mopped his perspiring face.
The message which finall
the Bloomfiel
closing time

y went over the wires from
d office—brought in three minutes before

supper—might have been evolved by a more agile brain
in about three minutes.
ce
Have changed my mind,” it read
do anything until you receive letter.”

Th
“re was no signature, but the letter which went
out on the first mail next mor

tions that Fellows wag
containing the Farnham
entire deal off.

ning bore explicit direc-_
instantly to return the paper
Hall signals, and consider,the

ee

CHAPTER VI.

THE FELLOW WITHOUT PRINCIPLES, _

cl is a
arence Fellows lounged on the window seat in his.

room, his lips
hand.

“R §?
ool!” he commented aloud. “I wondered what
that telegram meant. A perfect jackass!”
E : . i Vi
Le glanced Out of the window and frowned. Then

his eyes returned t ie
© the letter, and ] eded tO
read it aloud. adi ih

curling Scornfully over a letter in his

/
cee
Dear C LARENCE:

; T have ch , ind; anes
don’t want you to do an anged my mind, |

ything about those signals. Ts
was w €
was a altogether. I. have found out that there
ay aa ing to complain Of in the way lI was dropped a
to ; a A Was perfectly fair and I don’t want)”
get even with Phillips and the rest. They are not —

~ “Please send me back th

you~ have at paper at once. I hope —

hot spoken to » Py
1elps—— was ‘
scratched out and Sony Ee ey the name wé

But if you have, you

m f { .
any farther, USt Stop the thing from gomg :

 

by a breathless student who had cut his”

“On no account -

substituted—about. it. ENG
TIP TOP

“Don’t lose a minute in attending to this, for | am
. . 9 99
very much worried about it. Yours, Bos.

Fellows read the name of his cousin with scornful
emphasis, and, folding the letter with a vicious twist,
thrust it back into his pocket.

“Fool!” he repeated contemptuously. “I wonder

what the deuce he takes me for? ‘Don’t lose a minute,
for I’m very much worried,’ ” he mimicked in a. fairly
good imitation of Wendell’s tone. “Very likely you are.
I’m sure I'd be if I’d done a crazy thing like this, But
it’s nothing to me how you feel so long as I’ve got
what I wanted out of you.”

Which sentence was about as accurate a keynote of
Fellows’ character as any one could devise.

So long as he got his way by fair means or foul,
he was perfectly indifferent\to the wishes, prejudices,
or desires of other people.

Thoroughly selfish and quite unhampered by con-
scientious scruples of any sort, he was the sort of
chap who seems to thrive and forge ahead to a phe-
nomenal degree by means of his deceitful ways and

underhand methods. Some day, of course, he would

come a cropper, and his fall would be as rapid as his
‘rise had been. But, in the meantime, his almost dia-
bolical cleverness kept him afloat on the crest of the

wave of success, while many a chap a thousand times
- more honest and decent than he sank beneath the sur-
face. |

All his life he had detested Bob Wendell.

As boys they had been thrown much together, spend-
ing almost all their vacations on the farm of the old
man whose only grandchildren they were. Even in
those early days, Clarence began to show signs of the
duplicity which became later his dominating character-

istic. The old man was wealthy. So Fellows set about

systematically to ingratiate himself in his relative’s

favor, at the same time doing his best to show up Bob

in a bad light.

é He planned and helped to execute various pranks,
and then, managed to throw the entire blame on his
cousin, He even endeavored to make it appear that

: “Bob was underhand and dishonest, and went to,great

5 pains to produce this effect, weaving his little plots dex-

WEEKLY. 13

terously and inwardly sneering at Wendell for falling
into them.

It was all in vain.

Like many men who have lived long in the world,
John Wendell was not to be deceived. He seemed to
sense, almost by intuition, which was the honest boy;
and, no matter how much he was lectured and pun-
ished, Bob always remained his grandfather’s favorite,
while Clarence was viewed with distinct dislike.

From that time dated Fellows’ hatred of Wendell.
But he had managed to conceal it so well that Bob
looked upon him asa friend. It never occurred to
the Farnham Hall chap that he had been asked to Had-
don that Saturday for any other reason than because
Clarence wanted ‘to see him.

He would have been amazed had he known that his
cousin was moved to send the invitation solely and
entirely on the chance of obtasnitiy information about
the rival eleven.

During his stay at Haddon Fellows had discovered
sundry so-called sporting characters about the village
who were willing to put up real money on almost any
event.

They were not governed by patriotic motives in their
betting, being quite as ready to back another team pro-
vided it was stronger than the Haddon eleven; and,
when approached quietly by Fellows on the subject,

they announced their intention of putting their money

on Farnham Hall in the game to take place the fol-
lowing Saturday.

It was this decision unassailable by argument, which
had caused Fellows. to invite his cousin to come over
and see him, Knowing Bob so well, he thought it pos-
sible that he might be able to extratt something inter-
esting from him concerning the strength of his eleven,
and perhaps even get a line on some of the plays,

The possibility of securing the signals had never

occurred to him. But when he discovered how matters
stood, he had lost not an instant in working to that
end. He had succeeded admirably.
success was in his very hand, Wendell wanted to bac!.
out.

“T’'ll see him in Halifax first,” Fellows commented

aloud, with considerable force, “It’s likely PU bacix | ae

 

And, now, when”
 

4 TIP TOP WEEKLY.

water now, after putting up my money, and all that!
Hang him! He always was a milk-and-water sissy for
all his hulking size. But he’ll find out he’s up against
the wrong proposition this time.”

He stood thoughtfully considering the matter for
some time. It was a delicate one, which he would have
to handle with considerable finesse. As yet he had
said nothing to Con Phelps. He was awaiting a more
propitious time; for he knew that it was going to be
extremely hard to persuade the captain to take advan-
tage of the leaked signals.

For all his talk; he .was not especially fond of the
big,/hearty chap.

(Phelps was, however, so universally popular in the
‘school that it suited Fellows’ purpose fo be on friendly
terms in that quarter. And he had sized the captain
up pretty accurately.

The dominating characteristic of Conant Phelps was
honesty. He was clean-minded, and straight as a
string, but he was also extremely ambitious. Long ago
he had set his mind on going to Yale, and from that
moment he had bent every effort to that end. He did
not wish to go through college as so many men are

forced to do, denying himself every pleasure, and wear-

ing himself out in order that he might obtain the coy- —

eted bit of parchment at the end of four dreary years
of toil. | |

That did not appeal to him at all. He wanted the
diploma, of course; but he did not want it half so
much as did the elusive, indescribable something known
_as “college life.”

He wanted to do just what the normal, average fel-
low did. He wanted to go out for football, and make
the freshman team; He wanted to make a society, to
be elected president of his class, perhaps. He wanted
_ to be popular, and to be one of the men who stand head
and shoulders above their companions. He desired, in
short, to have at Yale very much the same position he
_ held at Haddon School.

_ That was why he had come to Haddon, and why he

; worked like a slave through every summer. vacation,
arid saved every cent he could without giving himself a

reputation for meanness.

_ That was also why he wanted desperately to win the

game from Farnham Hall. If he could be victorious

against the stronger, much better-known team, his foot-

ball future at college would be almost assured. |

It would help in many other ways, also; for the chap
who can lead his men to victory against a strongets
better organization is pretty sure to be regarded with

favor by those who are on the lookout for just such — a

material.

Clarence Fellows knew all this perfectly. With) un
erring eye, he saw the flaw in the other’s armor, and

made ready to pierce it with his weapons of insinuatiot

and decei in hi i
eceit. To begin his underhand maneuverings, he

was only awaiting a favorable moment when Phelps
should be downhearted and discouraged at some pat
ticularly bad showing of the team.

Meanwhile, Wendell had to be settled. Fellows
laughed scornfully again as he thought of his cousin’s
frantic appeal, which had not touched him in the
slightest,

3 “What's he take me for, anyhow?” he sneered, pull-
ing a chair up to the table. “Jove! I'd give a lot if !
could manage it so they’d find out what he’s been UP.
to. aH would just about tickle me to death to get back
at him that way. But I’m afraid it’s impossible. Cant
show him up withdut getting in bad myself. Still, 1

ie keep that in mind. Maybe I can work it out
later,”

Without further delay, he took a sheet of paper and a

proceeded to pen an answ
it was finished he arose

“That'll about do for
Pll see if I can’t do som
lordly captain,”

er to Wendell’s letter. When
and thrust it into his pocket.
you,” he commented. “Now
ething with our esteemed and

CHAPTER VIt.
PM DG 02S be wo a

Judas!” exclaimed Conant Phelps hotly. ite
enough to drive a fellow wild, Clarence.”

Fellows nodded, his ex a
ful,

“Pretty bad,”’ he agreed,
to be on the fritz this aftern
I wonder ?”

Pression anxious and thought

“The whole bunch seemed
oon. What's got into ei)

 
 

 

ai wy

Leet ae’

I wat Nn ag

Con,” he said meaningly.

TIP POF

t

Phelps sighed.

“Heaven only knows,” Phelps said, in a discouraged
tone. “I suppose every team has its off days. But this
is the second one in succession. With the game so
close, I tell you it’s got me worried. If it keeps up, we
won't have the ghost of a show on Saturday, and I
want to win against Farnham Hall the worst way.”

“So do I,” echoed Fellows, speaking the truth for
once.

He hesitated, turning the matter over swiftly in his
mind, and wondering whether his chance had come.
They were walking slowly back from the field, after
an afternoon of practice, in which almost every man
on the team had been so absolutely and unimitigatedly
“bum” that even Phelps, optimistic as he usually was,
became downcast and discouraged. |

For a moment or two they kept on in silence; then
Fellows shot a keen, sidelong glance at his companion’s
clouded face.

“Pm afraid we really haven’t much of a chance, any-
Way,” he said slowly. ‘“You’ve done wonders with
the team, Con. But you know yourself the sort of
ctowd Farnham Hall always turns out. They’ve got
the material to pick from, and we haven’t. It’s rather
like butting up against a stone wall.”

“T don’t seé why you say that,” Phelps protested.
“We've at least got a show of winning if the fellows

‘only brace up and do their best.”

“No team from Haddon has ever licked them yet,”
Fellows reminded him.

“Doesn't follow that we won't some day,” the cap-
tain returned. }

Fellows shrugged his shoulders.

cats all vey well to talk that way before the men,
“But, just between owr-
selves, do you honestly believe that we'll come out
ahead on Saturday? Knowing what you know of their
team and their past records, cai you really admit that
we have more than one chance in a hundred of licking
them?”

Phelps did not answer. His pleasant face was

| 4Wistea into a rather hopeless scowl which told what
-_-he'thought almost as plainly as any spoken word.

“No, of course, you don’t—you can t, Fellows went

WEEKLY. | 15

on, the next moment. “It’s enough to make a fellow
sick, this playing year after year, and being beaten
every time, simply because we're smaller and haven’t
the material. The boys are all good enough in their
way. I'll freely admit that you’ve picked out the very
cream of the lot, and gone to no end of trouble to work
them into shape. But you know as well as I do, that
there isn’t one of them who couldn’t be improved on
a whole pile. I tell you, Con, we’re outclassed, that’s
what’s the matter. I, for one, am good and tired going
up against Bloomfield just to give that Farnham Hall
crowd something a little more interesting to ‘practice
on than their own scrub.” Se

Phelps made no answer; but his face was darker and
more discouraged than ever.

A gleam of satisfaction leaped into Fellows’ eyes as
he noted this. The ground would never be’better pre-

pared for seed than at the present moment. 2

“And yet,” he mused, almost as if talking to himself,
“you have only to say the word, and the game’s as good
as ours.”

Phelps stopped stock-still and gazed at his com-
panion in utter amazement. |

“What?” he exclaimed, thinking he had not heard
aright.

Fellows smiled slightly.

“I repeat,” he said calmly, “that if you say the word
we can win the game.” :

The captain snorted impatiently. |

“Have you any idea what you're talking about,
Clarence?’’ he inquired sarcastically. “Is it likely that
I’d stop at anything—anything fair, that is—to bring _
that about?”

Fellows shrugged his shoulders a little.

“That’s just it,” he said. “You would probably not
consider this fair. Superficially, perhaps, it might not
seem to be; but ’ve thought it over carefully, and it

99

 

seems to .,me
“For Heaven’s sake, cut out the small talk, and get to

“What is it'you mean?

Spit it out quick. The ethics of the case can’ come

your point,” Phelps rasped.

later.”

He dared° not hope, and yet something about his

 
     
   
  
    
   
    
  
  
   
 
   
   
   
  
  
   
   
  
   
    
    
    
    
   
   
    
  
   
   
 
   
    
     

+6 Ti?’ TOP

companion’s assured manner made him think that he
might just possibly have an idea which would amount
to something.

“Very well,” Fellows returned coldly. “I happen
‘to have a complete, accurate copy of the Farnham Hall
signal code.”

Phelps looked at him in bewilderment.

“The signal code?” he repeated dazedly.

tee: y

‘But how in creation

‘\ ”?

 

“It was given me by a fellow who’s just been dropped
“He
didn’t pull well with Jim Phillips, and was consequently

to the scrub,” the manager explained smoothly.

dropped, though the man they put in his place didn’t
touch him as a player. Naturally, he was pretty sore,

even that way with the whole bunch.”

By this time Phelps had recovered his composure to
a great extent, and stood watching his companion’s
face sternly.

“And you mean to make use of them?” he asked, in
an ominously quiet voice. \

Fellows smiled a bit.

“T can’t use them,” he returned. “But if I were in
your place, I shouldn’t hesitate a minute.’

“Lord Harry, man!” the captain exclaimed indig-
nantly. “Don’t you see that if I did, I'd be putting
myself on a par with the contemptible scoundrel who
turned them over to you?”

Fellows shrugged his shoulders.

“Lhe
While I should never,

“T don’t see it at all,” he said emphatically.
positions are quite different.
‘under any circumstances, think of betraying my team

-_ as he has done, I can sympathize with him to a certain
degree. How would you feel to be thrown off. the
team simply hecause the captain and quarter back had
a grudge against you? It would make me mighty

sore, and I can understand his taking the first means at
hand to get even.”

ry “Nothing under the sky can excuse a fellow for do-

_ ing a thing like that,” Phelps retorted. “There isn’t

‘any use talking about it, Clarence. I can’t consider

-

- using them for a minute.”

and passed the signals on to me, thinking that he’d get

 

WEEKLY.

“That’s what you think now,” Fellows said quickly .
“Just let me draw your attention to one or two pointsé
You agree that otherwise we don’t stand a show of
winning, don’t you?”

“Perhaps so.”

ee |
You admit that we're hopelessly outclassed, and
always have been?”

“Well, ye-es.”

“cc :
Just listen to me, then. If we made use of those
signals we’d just about put oursely

: es on equal terms
with Farnham Hall.

: It would be really nothing more
than esi a chap has a handicap at golf or a small
boat has time allowance in racing w

shouldn’t we have a handicap in football? Goodness

knows we’
€re smaller and weaker than they are.”

6“ ; ’ athe
I see what youre driving at, Clarence,” Phelps

in golf “But it can’t be done, Handicaps —
1 aS . z
1 got or racing are Open and’ aboveboard—things

said, more quietly,

which every |
everybody knows about, and which are in vogue

everywhere.

ball, though, and if we made use of this knowledge t0

§ive ourselves one, it would be utterly low+down and
contemptible.’” :

His wo
rds were strong enough, and his voice em™-

1 18 4 se
phatic; but Fellows sharp ears caught a faint under-

current of something like doubt, which heartened him
wonderfully.

“ ’
There’s another thing, Con,’
“You've w

particular.

’ he hastened to say:
anted +“ : .
to win this game for one reason 11

I know, of course, that you want to win
or the school ; but, even more

thinking of the future,
come out ahe
tion of your ;
drill a te

than that, you’ve been
You know that if you should
ad on Saturday, there won’t be a ques-

athletic future at Yale. A man whocant

am like ours to lick Farnham Hall is sure to

attract attention in the right quarters. It'll help you
more than anything else you could do, and you know

°

it 9
)

They had reached the door of the gymnasium and

stopped.

companion at once, but it
2 se apparent that Fellows’ words had struck home.

is ] 1
ace was fixed in a thoughtful frown, and his

Phelps did not answer his
bec

Th ith a larger one. —
ose things are perfectly fair and legitimate. Why

; :
You never heard of a handicap in foot- °

mee

 
  

 

TIP TOP

3 strong, muscular fingers worked unconsciously as he
ie _ Considered that phase of the matter.
nf long sigh, which had something of regret in it.

 

oe | “T understand all that,” he said slowly. “But I’m
: a afraid
: \ “Don’t decide now,” Fellows put in hastily. “Think

it over to-night, and don’t forget to think what it
_ Would feel like to be captain of the freshman eleven at
Yale, and maybe president of the class.”
‘He hesitated a second, his hand on the doorknob.
Suddenly his eyes brightened with a light of malicious

Satisfaction.

. rat may interest you to know that the man who gave
1% Me the signals is Bob Wendell,” he said significantly.
Be 7 Phe next moment he disappeared into the gym,
leaving Phelps alone with only his thoughts to keep
him company.

CHAPTER VIII.

oe, CONTAMINATION.

few

“Bob Wendell!” he repeated in astonishment. ‘Well,
[ll be hanged !”’
hae During Wendell’s brief visit to the school, Phelps
= ; had come to like Him very much, He had found te
: Straightforward and pleasant, and they had discov-
ered a number of similar tastes, a fact which always

fe 80es far toward ripening acquaintance into friendship.

; ‘ _ To the captain of the Haddon team, W endell did not
Seem at all the sort to do a thing like this, and at first

‘a he was inclined entirely to discredit Fellows’ story.

" ‘ Instantly, however, he realized that it must be true.

‘Wendell’s recent visit, his intimacy with Fellows, all
iE United toward proving him the traitor to his school.

“Bob Wendell!” repeated Phelps, in a quieter, more
thoughtful tone,
7 The provocation must be very great to ‘induce a fel-
s ‘s low like that to betray his team.

Phelps tried to picture himself in the other’s place,
| and had to acknowledge that he would be furious did
i | ~ such a thing happen to him.

“Of course, nothing can excuse his giving away the
_ signals, ” he thought. “But the temptation to get even
for such a dirty trick must have been mighty strong.” :

  
   
 
  
   
  
 

“WEEKLY.

At last he gave a.

LF,

Presently, realizing that he had better: be changing
his clothes, the Haddon captain joined ,the others in
the dressing room of the gym. It might have been
noticed, however, that he was extremely quiet, and
he departed as soon as he had his shower and was
dressed.

He was thinking over the situation and, in particular,
the cleverly put arguments of Clarence Fellows.

At first he told himself that it would be entirely out
of the question to make use of the signals. Such a
thing would be contemptible to a degree, and he would
not consider it for an instant.

And yet, for all that, he continued to think of it all
through the evening. Somehow the subject fascinated
him.. He wanted to win that one game more, perhaps,
than he had ever wanted anything in all his life before.

Fellows had been right in saying that such a vic-
tory over such a team would result in making him solid
with the athletic crowd at Yale.

Fellows had also been right in saying that without a
handicap of some sort, victory for Haddon would be
almost impossible. *,

Up to this moment, Phelps had not only encouraged
his men into hoping, but had actually deluded himself
into the belief that they stood a good chance.

It often happens that when a person wants a thing
tremendously, he usually ends by believing it to be
possible.

Phelps knew now that he had been wrong. They
could not possibly win, unless

 

“Of course, I’d never think of using them,” he said
aloud, in his room that night. “But we’d have a cork-

ing chance if we only could.”

He allowed himself the luxury of a\mental picture
of winning over Farnham Hall. It was a pleasing idea,

and he derived considerable enjoyment from it.

The possession and use of the rival’s signals would,
as Fellows had said, put aepess about on a par with
her great rival. It would be a desperate, hard-fought
battle, but Phelps had confidence enough in his men to

believe thatthey would win.

After all, it did seem as if it would be more inter-
esting, more exciting to the spectators, and really more
fair, were the two teams thus reduced to a state of

 
 

   

18 TIP TOP WEEKLY. | ae 4

equality. When one came to think of it, the spectators
should be considered to some extent. Nobody liked to
sit through a game which was simply a walk-over.

“If I could only use those signals,” Phelps thought
during the course of the evening, “that game would be
anything but tame.”

An hour ago he had said, “Of course I couldn’t think
of using them.” The two remarks were very much
alike, but there was a vast gulf between them. Phelps
himself did not realize quite how deep that gulf was,
but had Fellows been present he would have under-
stood and hugged himself for joy. !

Unconsciously, the captain of the Haddon team had
been working around all that evening to a little “if.”
Much as he wanted to win the game, he was not the
sort who could make use of unfair means so long as
he considered them unfair. He must first argue him-
self into an acquiescent state of mind, and it was char-
acteristic of Conant Phelps that he honestly tried to
eliminate the question of what effect a victory would
have on his chances at Yale.

But, though hedid not know it, that question was ut-
terly impossible to ignore. It was the crux of the
whole situation; the motive power, not only of the
game with Farnham Hall, but of the boy’s entire ex-
istence. His life at Haddon was nothing more than a
preparation for that greater, broader, fuller life which
he hoped to live later in the New Haven university.

Tt was, in every sense of the word, only preparatory.

And so, though he meant to ¢ut it out altogether,
and really thought he had, the consideration of his
chances at Yale never ceased influencing Phelps for a
single instant.

When he supposed he was arguing the matter out in

a reasonable, logical, unprejudiced manner, somewhere |

in his subconscious mind he was picturing himself as
captain of the Yale freshman team next fall. It was
not his solicitude for the spectators and a desire to
give them the worth of their money in a close, ex-
citing game, which influenced him half so much as did
the thought of what it would be like were he elected
ih president of the freshman class. |
_ The truth was that he wanted to use those signals.
i To his mind it Was the only way whereby Haddon

: team would have to be let into the secret.

a
could come off victorious; and, when he reached the =

point of using that very stnall word with an infisitely ~

great meaning, the ultimate conclusion was notin {nuch ie
doubt. i

 

The transition from “if” to “how” was coripara-
tively simple and natural. Pursuing the same trend of
fallacious, but plausible, reasoning, almost the next

question in Phelps’ mind was: “| ee

If the signals could be used, how ate we going to a

keep the fact that we know them from being per-
ceived by the other team >” |

A iter that it was as good as over. Without having
admitted for a single moment that he had the slightest

intentio1 i | ie Re
on of taking Fellows’ advice, Phelps worked out

an elaborate plan of campaign, going so far as to de-

cide h rug
ew many and just which members of his own

And then, having deluded himself deliberately with
arguments which he knew to be false, but to whose

flimsiness he remained purposely blind, he slipped out ©

of his clothes, put out the light, and went to bed. . ee

But not to Sleep. In the still hours of the night, = |

with the crisp breeze blowing across him from the open

window, and his eyes fixed on the blue-black arch of
sky sprinkled with my she

tiads of clean, untarnished stars,
he could not quite kee

| p down the qualms of conscience.

He knew that what he had decided on was wrong, 3
23 mer that by accepting the stolen signals he was ide
placing himself on a level with the traitor who had oH

eye them. But he did not change his mind; for at-
bition—gripping,

It was a pity!

 

CART RR EN iio
DESPAIR, “a acl Ny

Bob Wendell caught his breath sharply and snatched ae

the letter from little Willie Stearns, Without a word a

   

of thanks, without even hearing the boy’s halting €x- ~
planation of how he got it at the office with his own

a

mail, the oldet fellow turned abruptly and strode away;

 

 

RESTS re EAE:

Seteell Meee “see cad | Speke

mo BE

t- — 45 —

Powerful ambition—dominated him Es
ehh Pad suhied those other, better qualities which |
might have saved him had they been a little stronger.) | |

 

 

we

me
   

 

ear

nea So ile
SIRS SS ee TT nS

  

 

 

 

Plan for using the signals.

   
 

— them from using that knowledge.

TIP TOL

his face a perfect mirror for the anxious suspense
Which filled his soul.
“I thought it would never come,” he muttered, tear-

ing the envelope with nervous fingers and taking out

- the inclosure.

For an instant he held it in his hand as if not daring
to look at it. Then, with a muttered growl at his fool-
ishness, he twitched the sheets open. The letter cov-

_ €fed two closely written pages:

“DEAR Bog: I was: very much surprised at your
Wire last night, and even more surprised when I re-

_ Ceived your letter, which I have just read. Theres no

Sense in my commenting on your extraordinary change

Of mpind after having had a whole day in which to con-
| Sider the matter and decide exactly as you wished to
- Without any one trying to infiuence you.
the discovery you say you have made
Of the fellows you thought were responsible for your

Of course,
about the attitude

being dropped makes some difference ; but I can’t help

Wondering if you aren’t mistaken about this last.
“But that doesn’t make much difference one way or

another. The point is this: What you ask me to do is

Utterly impossible. Before your wire reached me I
had already taken up the matter with Phelps, who
Proved quite agreeable, and together we arranged a
By this time more than

half the members of the team have copies of the code

and are committing it to memory. You can see from

_ this that it is too late to do anything about it. Even
if I could bring myself to back water, it wouldn't doa
_ Particle of good.. Once the boys know the signals
_ and.are able to tell in advance what play is going to

be made, it would be a physical impossibility to prevent
They couldn’t do it

 

  

 

tt they tried. They would know instinctively what

Play was coming, and no power on earth could keep

 

 
 

    
  

 

 
  

 
  

 
  

  
 

| ; Phillips and Shasta not being your enemies.
4 bit fishy when you say you were bounced because you

_ RO one suspects where the signals came from.
“Sorry if you're disappointed, but you. can easily see
the Situation for yourself.

_ them from preparing for it. es
___ “Why not stop worrying about it, and just ay with
the tide? Let things go—for that’s what you'll have

 

to do. I think you're mistaken about

Personally, It sounds

didn’t make good, I know you and your playing pretty

well, and I know it would be hard to find your equal
pee right guard.

 

and

“Of course, I’ve been very careful about all this, :
m

  

   
   
 

wn Let ert

‘
hs
aleske th eatin tng ia aa

z ba wh ai
moses { yy ae dimek mone
i oe PRL Lt ORE IRE

   

WEEKLY.

19

“By-by, old fellow, and don’t worry. Everything
will come out all right. See you Saturday.
“Ever yours,
“CLARENCE.”

For a full minute Wendell stood staring at the letter
in actual horror. He had counted so much on beihg
able to stop Fellows before he got under way that the
disappointment was one of the bitterest he had ever
known. It made him sick for a second or two—really
physically nauseated. After that came a wave of
despair, intense and utter.

What was there left for him to do now? Absolutely
nothing. He was helpless, bound hand and foot,
obliged to stand aside and watch the result of his
despicable treachery.

It never occurred to him that Fellows’ letter was a
mass of fabrication from beginning to end, that there
was scarcely a word of truth in it. His cousin’s argu-
ments were plausible enough. He had to admit that
they ,were unanswerable. Once the men had learned
the signals, nothing could prevent their profiting by
them. He was surprised that Clarence had carried the
thing through with such expedition, but even that was

He had had all day Monday in which

quite possible.
to put his plans into action.
The fact that Conant Phelps had agreed so readily to
the underhand scheme brought with it not a grain of
comfort. Wendell was conscious of a sort of dull sur-
prise at having so misjudged the chap he had liked,
but not for an instant did he delude himself with the
idea that this was an excuse for his own treachery.
He had done this
‘thing with his eyes open, and now he must bear the

He was to blame and no one else.

consequences alone.

Utterly, intolerably miserable, he went up to his
Was there nothing he
could’ do to repair the mischief?

room and shut himself in.

At first he came to the conclusion that the only
thing for him to do—as, of course, it was—was to go
to Phillips and confess everything. He even got so
far as to open the door and step out into the corridor,
and then his heart failed him. ;

He could not bring himself to do it. He knew that
the result would be annihilation, utter and complete,

  
20 TIP TOP WEEKLY.

so far as his school and college future was concerned.
The fellow who had once betrayed his team to a rival
could never again expect to take part in athletics. Not
only that, but he would always be regarded with con-
tempt and scorn wherever he went. His whole life
would be practically ruined. He could not do it. He
had not enough courage.

At length, after searching desperately for some
other way out, a tiny ray of hope came to him. If he
could only persuade Phillips to change the signals
before the game with Haddon, all would be well. But
could he do it without giving his reason? He was not
an adept at deception, being a chap who always went at
things directly, without any circumlocution; but he
made up his mind to do his best; and with that end in
view he lingered after the practice that day, hoping to
get a chance to walk back with the captain alone.

His clumsy maneuverings happened to succeed,

Phillips was detained, talking over some matters with
Frank Merriwell. When they parted, he naturally fell
into step with Wendell, whose shoe laces had become
untied several times and slowly retied with elaborate,
time-consuming care,

For a moment or two they walked along in silence.

Wendell was nerving himself to the point of speech,

and Phillips seemed absorbed in thought,
At last the scrub man took the plunge.
“T suppose you'll be changing the signals pretty
soon,” he remarked, in a carefully casual tone,
The captain looked at him in surprise.
“Change the signals?” he repeated,
Ido that?”
- Wendell was thankful that the gathering darkness
hid the embarrassed expression he knew was on his
"Qh, I don’t know,” he returned slowly. “Matter of
‘Precaution, I suppose. I nee you always changed

“Why should

Baht + them before an important game.”

Phillips laughed.

“You don’t call the game with Haddon important,
e do you?” he inquired lightly. “They’ve never licked
. us Neue yy: .

; _ “They’ve got a mighty nice little team this year,” :
- Wendell protested. | f

Besides, I can’t see a chance of the
signals leaking’ out.

“So have we.

I may change them before we
play Fardale, for that’s the big game of the season;
but the boys are all well. ‘up in them now, and it seems

like unnecessary work to give them a lot to do before
Saturday.”

Wendell was bitterly disappointed, but he dared not
Say anything more on the subject,
stricken with a

As it was, he was
| sudden fear that he had said too much.
Apter the game on Saturday, Phillips might remember
this conversation and become suspicious. Conse-
quently he hastened to agree with his companion, and

at once turned the conversation into other channels.

The days which followed were full of positive tor-

ture for Bob Wendell. He worried and fretted until —

it Was surprising he did not give himself away to his
companions, Several of them remarked on his ser jous-
ness, and more than one surmised that he must be sick;

but none of them seemed to realize that it was SiC eerR

of the mind which troubled him.

From time to time he cudgeled his begee striving to
think of some way in which he could prevent the thing
he dreaded happening, but all in vain; and at last he
awoke on Saturday morning with the realization that
a few short hours would tell the story,

The Haddon team arrived Shortly before Pie

and were met at the station by their rivals, who’ es-_

corted them to the house. Wendell was among the

number, though he would have given almost anything ©

to be able to stay away. |
/

Fellows approached him at once.

You're still worrying,” he said reprovingly, after (i;

an appraising glance at his’ cousin’s frowning face.
Don’t be a fool, me Tt’ll all come out right, and)
nobody’ll suspect you.” y

Wendell promptly shut him up. He did not wish to 5
talk about the matter, , Besides, the sight of Conant
Phelps had given him an idea.

It was absurd, of
course, and wholly futile had he realized it; but still,

by the time they had reached the school, his mind was
made up, He would go to the captain of the Haddon —

.

team and beg him not to use the signals.) ||

 
PRPs TOP

i himsel away to the chap he liked, and who seemed so
! honest and open; but he meant to do it. He had no
_ Way of knowing that Fellows. had betrayed his trust
i pend, broken his word by telling Phelps already wae
" Was Tesponsible for the leak. But, then, Bob had no
| | Conception of many, many underhand things which
_ had emanated from that precious cousin of his.

, It seemed as if he was never going to get a caer

© speak to Phelps alone. Dinner overt, the fellows

_Tounged about the grounds for an hour or 80 before

essing, but always the pleasant-faced fellow we
group of others. > ven

addon was surrounded by a
, he field,

After they had dressed and made their way tot

is the same trying conditions prevailed.
Wendell hung about, growing more and more anx-
- Hous and impatient; but at last, not five minutes PErOre
three, the moment came for which he had been waiting,
and he lost not a second in taking advantage of it.

Stepping swiftly forward, he touched the rival captain

i % aid ‘in a low, hurried tone
_ Look here, Phelps, » he said, in a low, ht ,
“won't you please not
was a contemptible cur
[’ve ‘ worried myself

Without preamble of any sort,
: Ri those signals of ours? I

Y give them to Fellows, and

Nearly sick over it, If you'd only
ee _ While he had been speaking, Phelps’ face 7
a denty darker, and his) lips straightened out 1

“termined line. '

el don’t know what you're talk
A broke in curtly. “I’m here to play t

I know nothing of any S18

9?

grew sud-
n a thin,

he game for all

nals except our

/
/

>There was an utter finality in his tone which oe
ndell like the lash of a whip, and made him mene
the futility of further argument. Phelps bet evidently
made up his mind, and nothing could change 1t.
; Without another word, the disheartened chap turned

Nhis heel and walked away to where the substitutes

ere already gathering. It was too late row even for

“Sntession. Nothing wa
DNs team might prove strong enoug
aga nst the heavy handicap. |

: They were so totally unsuspicious, s

wh was coming. If they ouly had
gf ey Eee PF i |

h to win even

o unprepared for
an inkling of

ing about, Wendell,”

5 left ‘him but the hope that

WEEKLY.

what was in store for them, there might be a little
chance. But they had not, and Wendell could not give
them even a hint. He could only crouch there on the
side lines‘and watch with sinking heart and remorseful

eyes the evidence of his handiwork.

His lot was not one to be envied.

CHAPTER X:
RETRIBUTION.

The gatne started with a rush and swing. Farnham ;
Hall had the pall and began at once to work it down
the field. The boys were confident that they would
have little difficulty in making a goal during the first
quarter.

Their opponents averaged a good ten pounds lighter
than they, and, while this might not count for as much
as*it would have a couple of seasons before, weight
and strength must always be desirable qualities in a
football player. .

Very soon, however, it was seen that the Farnham
In-
stead of carrying everything before them, as they had

Hall boys had underestimated their opponents.

expected, by sweeping gains of six or eight yards at a
time, they found themselves opposed with a fierce deter-
mination, backed by ,brainwork of a very high order.
Evidently the Haddonites made up in speed and swift-
ness and grit what they lacked in other ways.

It was a complete surprise to every one on the team.
He
varied the plays with amazing cleverness, and yet the
defense met them each time, solid as a rock. Instead

Shasta’s brain was never in finer. working order.

of six or eight yard gains, they crept forward like a line
of snails, sometimes barely making their five yards in) —
three downs. At length they were driven to punt, and
the pigskin changed hands. 3

Though not so strong on the attack, Haddon showed
up well, Phelps, playing at quarter, was fully the

“equal of Don Shasta, if not his superior; and the ball

was forced to within twelve yards of the Farnham
Hall goal before it was lost by a fumble. During the.
remainder of the quarter it did not once cross into the

fifty-five yard line.

 
SEU Oe

“Greatest frost I ever saw,’ Shasta commented, as
the players gathered in a little group during the three-
minute intermission. “We've certainly sized up those
boys wrong. They’re corkers.”’

“It’s Phelps, I think,” Phillips said thoughtfully.
“I’ve heard some mighty good things of his’ work, but
I never thought he’d get together a bunch like this,
We've got to brace up, fellows, and come alive. It's
not going to be any cinch. We've got to get after ‘em
and hammer their weak spots. Their defense is quite
some better than their attack.”

“Tt sure is,’ Shasta agreed emphatically.
little darndest to get through them; but, ng matter how
I varied things, they were right on the spot every time.
Seems like Phelps was almost a mind reader, and
knew what was coming beforehand.”

“He’s a clever boy, all right,” Phillips agreed ab-
“Just step over here, Don. I want to tell you
something.”

sently.

From his place on the ground, Wendell watched
them fearfully out of the corner of his eye. Shasta’s
words, uttered as they were, in a half-joking tone,
struck terror to his heart. Was it possible that they
had any idea of the truth? Did Phillips suspect, and
what was it they were discussing?

It was an awful thought. What should he do if they
found out that he was a traitor who had betrayed them
to the enemy? He felt sick and faint until the whistle
of the referee called the two teams back to the field
and the continuation of the game gave him something
else to think about. : J

With sinking heart, he watehéd the waging of this
Presently he began to long fiercely
for a chance to go into the game. He felt that any-
thing would be better than sitting here idle. If he
could only have a place in the line, he might at least
make an effort to repair the damage he had done.

Had Phillips only known it, his best move would
Bras been to put into play the substitute guard; for

unequal struggle.

Wendell would have fought desperately, fiercely, as

long as there was a breath left in his body. He was
wrought up ie that pitch when men accomplish wonders
_and astonish everybody by fairly outdoing themselves.

i Unfortunately, however, the captain was as Scale

Read. WH

“T did my

WEEKLY.

of this fact as he was of that other, more vital one,
which had made the contest such a surprise to every
one; and, though two men were disabled during that ;
period and had to leave the field, he remembered Wen-
dell’s poor showing of late, and did not call him out.
When the second quarter ended with neither side
having scored, the excitement began to run _ high.
Rarely before had there been such a game on the I* arn-
ham Hall field. Usually the strength and standing
of a team can be pretty accurately estimated before- ‘

hand. But, in this casey the showing of the Haddon

team was a complete surprise, even to their own Sup-
porters.

Clarence Fellows, standing among the substitutes,
had difficulty in suppressing a complacent smile.
Everything had worked out exactly as he had planned
it, his only fear now being that the game might result

in a tie. He had great hopes, however, of there being
something doing toward the end.

It was impossible that the Farnham Hall men could
keep up the pace without becoming exhausted. Charg-_
ing as they did, time after time, against a defense
which was as solid as a stone wall, they must waste —
strength and energy; and when their best efforts con-
tinued to be of no avail, it was certain they would be-
come discouraged and lose heart. Their opponents, on
the contrary, not only utilized effectually every ounce
of strength by never making a false or futile move,

but were buoyed up and encouraged by their surpris-
ing success.

With the beginning of the third quarter, Fellows’
judgment was vindicated. ‘There was a perceptible —
lack, of snap and ginger in the home team’s playing: oe
Shasta had tried every trick at his command, and not
one of them worked as it should. No matter what
move he made, or what Strategy was employed, ee "
opponents were always ready for them. }

It was small wonder that the majority became dis- ;
nee when apparently nothing they could do was

going to bring success.” Some there were, of course, |

 
 

TIP TOP WEEKLY.

‘il ity the drooping soit of those who have made up

| Meir minds that defeat is to be their portion.
It Was at this point that Farnham Hall began to lose
nd. Phillips did his best to hearten up his men,

in spite of that they fell back slowly, steadily.

; ‘ ! yee
ck at heart and overcome with remorse, Bob Wen

a ea: the end approaching.

“Tf I could only. go in!’ he said to finiselt, time and
ane again. “If I could only have a chance, | i do
Smething to make up!”

All Sorts of plans passed swiftly through his, brain

tO what he might do if that chance, came, but ap- .

ently he w as not. to have it. Perhaps it was retri-

mon. It seemed only just that he should be con-

mained to watch,-inactive, the result of his treachery;
we sit there with nerves quivering and not be able to
*aise a finger to help the fellows he had betrayed. |

He groaned aloud as the. Farnham Hall line was

reed back, back until they were battling fiercely .

st on their very goal line. He yelled incoherently,

Most hysterically, when Phillips, desperate, downed
¢ Tunner by a splendid tackle, and so checked the

4ins that the ball was lost for the moment to Farn-_

ley Was only a momentary. respite.
Was renewed, three minutes later, th
red out. for blood. They were evidently deter-
ined to score, and they set about it with all the snap

ak i ainy
iy | go and cleverness at the command of their brainy

e Haddonites

he moment vk had L possession of the ball they
arted it: down the field in a series Of rushes, passes,
1 round the end rims which were ‘prillianitly planned
€Xécuted, and “against which Farnham Hall
ed: ‘helpless: Again and agai
One Or tWo others rallied their ¢
ne “effort, but all in vain. A good eight mintites
re ‘the end of the’ game, following a fine

P helps made a touchdown and eee the Boel

net the strug>

1’ Phillips, Shasta, —
omrades to re-—

forward |

The game was thus won for Haddon. N othing else

was done during the remaining time of play ; and when

the whistle blew for the last time and a frantic yell of
delight went up from the visitors’ support, Wendell
dropped his head for a moment into his hands.

It was the bitterest, most self-abasing moment he
had ever known.

He saw himself as he was, cowardly, without princi- |
ple, unfit to associate with the fellows he had wronged _
so greatly. He would have chosen to be beaten with
lashes until the blood flowed, rather than to look into
the faces of his comrades as they came off the field
defeated, but trying bravely to bear themselves non-

chalantly.
Perhaps he had been punished enough by the lashing »
of his own thoughts. It had been a lesson which he

would never forget all his life long, and without which

he might not have awakened to his most glaring fault

until it was too late. Perhaps, taking everything into
consideration, it was well that it happened thus; for a
boy’s character is of infinitely greater importance than

many football games. ‘

‘CHAPTER XI.
THE UNEXPECTED.

As he walked off the field, surrounded by yelling, re-
joicing supporters, Conant Phelps was far from feel-
ing that joy and triumph and infinite satisfaction which
fellows in his position usually feel.

He had won
the game, to be sure, but by what means? During the
excitement of playing he had been able to forget; but
now, as if to make up for the respite, the realization *
of what hé-had done came upon him with renewed :
force and made him! wince, 4 3

He was not exactly proud of himself.

But there was no backing out. He had set his hand |
to the plow and must follow the furrow to the vety end. |
It would be suicidal to allow any one a chance for evert
the slightest suspicion,

So he pulled himself together and did his best to
catry out the réle of the joyfully victorious captain, |

He was doing it fairly wwell, when he suddenly carne

 
TIP: FOP

a

face to face with Frank Merriwell, handsome, smiling,
and bearing not the slightest expression of regret.

“Well, Pl
hand promptly, “I congratulate you on giving us a won-
derful exhibition of football.
was one of the best I’ve,ever seen, and your attack isn’t
far behind.
tion of your future.”

Phelps took the hand held out to him and pressed
it; but for the life of him he could not look straight
He had never been so

1elps,” he said pleasantly, extending his

That defense of yours

Keep that up, and there won’t be a ques-

into those honest, level eyes.
heartily ashamed in all his life.

“You’re—very kind, -sir,” he managed to answer.
*‘We—did our best, that’s all.”

“And a very good best it proved,” Frafk returned
heartily. “I wish you would take a little walk with
me. I'd like to talk over a small matter for a few

moments.”

Amazed and not a little worried, Phelps acquiesced
instantly, and together they strolled slowly away, over
the turf, followed by more than one wondering glance.

“T won’t keep you long,” Merry began, “for I know
you're in a hurry to get back to the boys. What I
want to say is this: ‘I’ve heard indirectly of your great
anxiety to enter Yale, and something of the sacrifices
and efforts you have made to get a proper preparatory
You know, I presume, that ’m a
Yale man myself. I’ve been out a good many years,
‘but I’ve never lost my interest. I have always made it
_a point to do the best I can for boys like yourself who
will be a credit to my Alma Mater. I don’t mean that
these’ boys must necessarily be good at athletics.) That
is always a desirable thing, but they should first be
decent, straight, and high-minded, as I think you are.
_ Lo come to the point, I shall be very glad to give you
any help you may require to enter next fall.”

Phelps could scarcely believe his ears. The thing
- he had longed for with such apparent hopelessness was
within his grasp. He had only to say the word’ and
his future would be assured. His cheeks were flaming

school education.

ie with shame, the words Merriwell had just spoken

: stabbed him like so many knife blades, but he did not
_ stop to think of that in the wonder of this chance. He
said the word. Annes !

\

-almost ferociously, and in ‘another’ moment he’ was "

WEEKLY.

‘Don’t bother to thank me,”

Frank. said, as the boy —
stammered and stumbled over the words of gratitude”

“Just come and have ‘a talk be-. i
Hustle back to the boys, now. They> |e

 

which came so hard.
fore you go.
want you.”’

Without waiting longer, he turned \and. walked
briskly up the slope to his house, leaving Phelps staring
after him, his face full of varied emotions.

What had he done? He was no more worthy of
Merriwell’s aid than a convicted criminal. He had
spoken before he realized that what this man had of-

fered he could not possibly accept. Decent and

straight and high-minded! He laughed bitterly. He ,
had no single one of those qualities, and yet he had -
allowed the assertion to go unchallenged. It was a
deliberate lie—as great a falsehood as if hé had com-
mitted it by spoken words instead of by remaining -

silent.

He hesitated for several minutes, apparently rooted
i
to the ground.

Behind him the fellows were calling his name impa- —
tiently. Before him the tall, graceful form of Merri-
well was rapidly retreating. What should he do? Hi
he went back, no one need ever know. : He might carry |
His dreams would
come true in a much more wonderful, complete man-
ner than he had ever dared to hope., But could he ever
be content with that? Could he ever forget that he
had won it all by false pretenses? In after years would
the fact that he was nothing but a living lie ever cease — ‘
to haunt him?

7 “No 1?

out the deception to the very,end.

The word burst from his tightly conipressed lips

 

Tunning as hard as he could after the broad shouldered ae
figure of Merry, now passing through the trees: which
fringed the field. | e

“Mr. Merriwell!” ue called lendpie
well!” : .

Frank heard him and turned around. His eyes were —

puzzled as he watched the rapidly nearing boy; seeing —
the expression on his rather white face. » Aceustomed

 
1 oe

 

 

 

. “Motion, He felt, somehow, that an important mental
| Crisis had arisen in the few moments since they had’
| Parted.. But he gave no sign, and, when the —
. topped panting before him and wiped the perspiration
trom his forehead, he waited quietly for him to speak.
“T~can't accept—your offer, Mr. Merriwell,” Phelps
Statimered at last,
% try was at no pains to conceal his surprise.
_ What's the trouble?” he asked kindly. “You can
gard the money as a loan, bi course, if you don’t feel
Ke taking it outright.”
The boy’s face was flaming now.
“lt isn’t—that,”’ he said haltingly.
*Toan, anyhow, but I can’t accept—even that.”
Hy Prank looked puzzled.
“Don’t you want to go?” he asked. -
~Yes—oh, yes! But—I’m not—worthy.
hat you—think me.”
There Was a moment’s pause, during which the mans
vr Searched the other’s face rather seriously.
Just what do you mean by that?” he asked.
| Phelps had been staring at the ground, but ee he
a W back his head and gazed straight at iMecriwell:
ve latter was startled at the utter, intense misery in
boy’s fine eyes.
; < Ou said I was decent, and s
ded,” Phelps burst out. “I’m not.
$ One of those things. I’ve been a Cur, te
: ia your help. I’d give anything in the world 1
lq Only live the last week over again.” ;
*Tank’s Brows were knitted slightly.
rhe last week?” he repeated questioningly.
7 You think we

2? It was noth-

“T’d look at it as

T’m—not

traight, and high-
I’m not a sin-
and I can’t

b ‘. It’s all happened. since then.
n th

dslowly. “And
of them?” |
wallowed hard.

_ *0u knew our signals?” he repeate
nd ask how you got possession
lelps dropped his eyes again and swallow’® ©©
n®Oof-your men on'the scrub,” he explained, 19 .
tone)“*twas sote because—he wasn't treated right.
He Wanted to get even, and so—he sent the eer
to @fellow he knew at Haddon. rsd ar
Bes | j

WEEKLY.

brought to me, and at first I wasn’t going to use them.
Then I thought—I thought how much it would mean
Well, that’s all,
I used them. The game really should have been

—if I won the game, and—and
sir.
yours.”

There was silence for a moment. Merriwell leaned
lightly against a tree, his arms folded, and his eyes
fixed on the boy’s face. They were cold and stern, but
somewhere in their depths was a tempering glimmer
of regret.

“What is the name of this boy who played the

traitor?” he asked, at last, in an odd tone.

33

“Why, it was |

Phelps broke off abruptly, and glanced appealingly |
at Merriwell.

“T wish you wouldn’t ask me that, sir,” he went on.

‘“He’s—he’s sorry—beastly sorry—that he did it. He

came to me to-day arid begged me not to use them.

The boys all knew
them, and couldn’t have helped themselves. I should
have told Phillips all about it, but I hadn’t the courage.
But I’m sure the fellow realizes what he’s done, and
I think—it’s
been a—a lesson to him, just as it’s been to me.”

Of course, it was too late then.

would never do anything like it again.

Frank’s face was rather grim. ?

“Very well,” he commented. “If you feel that way,
I won’t urge you.”

He paused a moment, his eyes fixed curiously on the
boy’s flushed face.

“Why did you tell me this, Phelps?” he asked quietly.
“Didn’t you realize that if you kept still no one would
have ever known? .You could have gone:to Yale and
made a success there. I should never have been the
wiser.”

Again the boy raised his eyes to Merry’s.

“T thought of that,” he said simply. “I wanted to do
it awfully, but I couldn’t.” ee

“Why?” ;

“It would have been worse than using the signals. —
I’d have been lying every minute of the time by taking :
your money and letting you think I was something
which I wasn’t. I’d never have had a moment’s peace,

99

while now

 
ad : table, and fe took it uD,

26 Fibs Oe

He hesitated, and Frank finished the sentence for
him:

“While now you feel as if you'd made reparation by
giving up something you want very much. Sort.of'a
salve to conscience, in other words.”’

“Perhaps so,” Phelps answered slowly. He had not
analyzed his motives to this extent. ‘I don’t know
just why I did it, except that I simply couldn’t go on
letting you think I was worthy of taking your help and
becoming a Yale man when—I—wasn't.”’

His voice faltered a little toward the end, and his
lids dropped swiftly over eyes which seemed -abnor-
‘mally bright.

“I’m afraid you're right, Phelps,” Merriwell said
regretfully.
other team in order that he may win a victory is worthy
to be a Yale man. He may win on the football field,
but he has lost something infinitely better, infinitely
greater—his integrity and self-respect. I’m sorrier
than I can say that you have done this, but I’m glad
you were man enough to come and tell me about it.
That does not repair the wrone, but it shows you to
have the right feeling.”

Rather abruptly, without even so much as a good-
by, Merry turned and walked slowly away through the
trees, leaving Phelps heartsick and full of unavailing
regrets. Too late, the boy wished desperately that he
had not done this thing, that’he had kept,to his first
impulse and ‘not listened to insidious temptation for a
single moment. But, underneath everything, he was
glad he had done his best to make good by telling Mer-

riwell the truth. —

4S) le a * sf * * *

TA week later Conant Phelps came into his room and
dropped disconsolately into a chair, He was still glad
| of the step he had taken, but at every hour of the day
he was assailed by bitter regret at the opportunity he
be had lost. If only he had kept. straight he would now
of be looking ‘forward confidently to the goal he had
i longed for, for ¢ so many years. He knew it was futile,
but he could not HOP, sighing over what was: Por

sible,

’ + Presently his eyes - fell ‘upon a letter ine on. he
It was SEN Bloom-

“No man who uses the signals of an- ,

WEEKLY:

field; and in wondering haste he slit it-open and took
out the contents. _ ea . .

It was a letter from Frank Metriwell, and, as he
glanced swiftly through it; he-flushed and pal ecl

“MY DEAR PHELPs: During the past week you have
been in my mind to a considerable extent. .Someliow |
I have a notion that your first experience in the crooked
way is likely to be your last, and I have, therefore, se-
cured a scholarship at Yale for you, and will see that
you are looked after in other ways when you enter
next fall.

66,
I think I can trust you now: to be straight and de-
cent always, a man who will be a credit to Yale, and a
to himself. Sincerely yours, 3 |

“FRANK MERRIWELL.”

The letter dropped unheeded from. the boy's hand i
and fluttered to the floor. For a moment or two he sat
staring straight before him, his lips trembling slightly.
Suddenly he sat erect and brought one fist down on oS
chair arm with a thump,

“By Heaven, he can!” he exclaimed fiercely. “rH
never make him sorry he’s done this th ing. Ul never
.do anything as long as I live neha will make him
ashamed of having helped me.’ .

Springing to his feet, he walked over to the window j 4
and stood there with his face pressed against the pane. ng
There was a long, long pause; but when he returned to | &
the table the darkness made fig face indistinct. .
“He's the best man that ever lived!’ he. murmured 1
softly. | ;

THE END.

In the next isstie will appear a powerful, sntetaste 4
gripping story entitled: “Frank Merriwell’s Lads; Oh

The Fellow with the Family-Tree.” Two new boys

arrive at Farnham Hall, the’ one a millionaire’s son and

the other a laborer’ Ss son. Sudden and inténse “excite

ment over ae peculiar See ney existing. ‘betw en)

WY

lads never looked upon Bette ° Cebtatn gee
ee py ‘one of the: new W boys: are inne

 

 

 

 
 

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Y f6F the, Anitfican Yotith 2

nel 2

\)
i)
|
}
|
]

“Ap ideal Fiblicticn

NEW YORK, November 4, 1911.

 

——

 

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ae =

THINKING PLANTS. :
A Wuarrelsome old couple possessed a marvelous ga 2
“ourse of domestic altercations the sunflower, Om e Ue
; © Of the wife, at least, invariably nodded its head when s :
© Melivered herself of a more than usually opposite Oe of
a against that made by her husband. One day, in a
aon the disputatious husband s
» 8 Off its nodding head.
“Spite the fact that this story can be tak
» Scientists maintain that plants are as We

heir
haye °Wn particular way as human beings.
n

11 able to reason in
They are said to
preparing for the
uture in the man-

cha; @ memory, as certain of them show ™
light, and

Be of season ; they make provision for the f Be
sets, VBich they economize their supplies of water,

.

na pOfessor made experiments with young pia lights of dif-
or that when he placed them between two lig  celik
‘Strength they always inclined toward the eee aaa -
Was nothing to be actually gained at the eat a elf that
nee examined a series of fir trees, and satisfied sig goatee
Tminal spike at the top of each tree exercise ives
He By: Over the lower branches. When this spike was f c ba
«by disease or mutilation, a struggle es Eka cae
ately took place among the remaining branches wy ee

t the top. In the end one of them succeeded to the

m€ and was as despotic as its predecessor

a MusIC AND to whether

tice has recently been studying the question as This ap-
St snakes have really any appreciation of ia ath ee Oke
Particularly to the cobra, which seen ee a a Haye
_* Instrument played by the East Indian - en ie to be that
Ment suggesting a dance. The conclusion se¢ Saves
SWers to the musical notes much in tia SAE Ww RY.

+ 3 f nervous sympathy.
t is to say, through a species Ne Zo o the wolves set

5 4 he whistle at noon in the Bron e
5 & great Sirclneg ie core Whether or not a on -
SOF music is disputed—though probably they © © iy
undoubtedly take pleasure in harmonious si ae % idle
pale oe at sop toa Casks of music
“08S unquestionably suffer from certain
* hi their pain in lugubrious howls.

f
y

he

into the water and draw it out again!

laughtered the plant by

en with a grain of

ONE GOOD INDIAN.

By HORATIO ALGER, Jr.

Tommy Carver stood on the banks of the little river that ran
through the town where he lived. Over his head waved the
branches of a large willow tree. At its foot floated upon the
bosom of the river a small boat, which was fastened by a rope to
the tree.

Tommy was eight years old, and had never been in a boat,
though he had long desired to do so, in consequence of the glow-
ing account given by his friend, Edwin Samson, of the pleasure
of a boat ride. But his mother felt timid about the water, and it
so happened that he had never been allowed to enter a boat.

“IT could get in that boat just as easy as not,” thought Tommy.
“There isn’t anybody looking, and I am out of sight of home. I'd
like to know how it feels to be in a boat.”

Tommy knew very well he ought not to disobey his mother,
but still he couldn’t get the delights of the boat out of his head;
and the more he thought about it the more he thought he might
step into the boat just a minute.

At length he yielded to the temptation, and stepped in.

The boat began to rock with him, frightening him a little at
first, but after a while he liked it.

Still there was not much chance for motion on account of the
boat’s being tied.

Soon Tommy became bolder, and seriously contemplated cut-
ting the rope, or, rather, untying it.

The question occurred to him about rowing, which he had never
tried. There was an oar in the boat, and this gave him confidence.
He had seen boats rowed, and it seemed to him a very easy
matter. —

“Pooh!” thought Tommy, “just as if I couldn’t stick the oar
It’s easy enough to row.”

So, as one wrong thing leads to another, Tommy. soon made
up his mind to cut the rope, for he found that he could not untie

it.

He had a knife in his pocket which was rather dull, and it took
him a good while to saw through the rope.

He succeeded in doing it at length without cutting his fingers,
which was rather remarkable.

Bravo! he is off.

There was a considerable current in the river, and Tommy
found, to his surprise and pleasure, that he could get along with-
out rowing at all, as the boat glided downstream rapidly, without
any effort on his part.

It troubled him occasionally by veering round, in consequence
of conflicting currents.

Tommy sat on the seat at one end of the boat, and enjoyed
the sport.

“It’s bully fun,” he thought, “much better than riding in a
wagon. When I get to be a big man I mean to have a boat of my
own, that is, if I have money enough. I guess I will have.”

Just at this moment the boat bumped against a sunken rock,
which frightened Tommy considerably.

However, as it just grazed and then went on, he got over this
fright, and began to enjoy his voyage once more.

The current was pretty strong, and bore him on rapidly.

Tommy lived in Maine, and the river was the Penobscot, some
distance above Bangor, where the settlements were comparatively
few and small, and the river‘was lined part of the way by forests
reaching to the water’s edge.

After a while Tommy found that he had got beyond the limits

of the village where he lived, and on either side there were noth- %

ing but forest trees.

“J guess I’ve gone far enough,” thought Tommy.
go back now.”

He wished the current would carry him back, just as boys often
wish that they could coast uphill without the fatigue of drawing
up their sleds; but as neither of these things takes place very
often, Tommy knew that he must row back.

He took the oar, therefore, and commenced operations, having
no serious misgivings as to his ability to row. It was only “stick-
ing the oar into the water, and then pulling it out again.”

But somehow, though Tommy tried it faithfully, it did not seem
to work. :

In fact, it seemed to make very little impression upon the course
of the boat.

“T didn’t get it right,” thought Tommy.
just as if it was a broom in sweeping.

This did produce an effect, as it whirled the boat round in a
circle; but it still kept drifting downstream.

“I'd better

“T must use the oar ~

 
ee Hye us
“What do you do for a living? § S
_ father was a lawyer. I s’pose you don’t have Indian lawyers?

y ee emir a ya
~The obliging

28 ee? SOF

“

Plague on it!” thought Tommy, “I wonder how the old thing
works? It looks easy enough when other people do it.”

So Tommy continued to experiment, but all his experiments
proved equally unfortunate.

“Oh, dear me!” he thought, as the awful conviction flashed
upon him that he was getting further and further away from
home. “I don’t believe I shall get home to-night.’

He began to get hungry, too, as it was nearly supper time when
he started, and the twilight was coming on.

“I wish I was at home, eating supper,’ he thought. “What’ll
mother think when I don’t come home? I think there’s some-
thing wrong about the boat, or maybe it’s the oar.”

However, be the cause what it might, there was one thing sure,
that Tommy was in a pickle from which there seemed little
chance of his being extricated.

About this time an unusually energetic movement of his oar
sent the boat toward one side of the river, where its course was
arrested by a log jutting out into the river.

Tommy seized the opportunity to escape to the log, on which
ne walked to the shore. The boat, getting entangled, remained
ast. !

i The wood reached down to the water’s edge. No house was to
€ seen.

“If I could only find somebody, I’d ask ’em to take me home,”
thought Tommy. “I guess I'll strike up through the woods, and
maybe I’ll find a house.”

So he made his way with some difficulty up the bank, and into
the woods. But there were no signs of any clearing. ‘At last,
however, he came to a small hut built round a tree.
ae wonder if anybody lives there?” he thought. “I'll go and
see. ,

So he went up and looked in through an opening which served
for a door, and was almost frightened to death when a large
eee got up from his seat in the corner, and advanced toward
im.

“What white boy want?” he asked.

' Tommy had only recently moved to Maine, and this was the
first Indian he had seen,

He had read about them, however, in his little history, and
about their scalping people, and he was very much alarmed at the
unexpected sight of the live Indian before him.

“Don’t scalp me, Mr. Indian!” ejaculated Tommy, frightened.

The Indian laughed, a low, guttural laugh.

“What for should Indian scalp white boy?” he said,

“Then you won't scalp me?” said Tommy, relieved. “I am glad
of it. It must hurt awfully.”

Again the Indian laughed.

“Didn’t you ever scalp anybody?”

The Indian shook his head.

“Then you're a good Indian. Do you live here?”

Ves.” .

- *E should think the roof would leak,” said Tommy, whose in-
terest was aroused. “You haven’t got any windows.”

“Don’t need ’em,”’ said the Indian. yeas}

“Are you married?) Have you got any wife?” asked the in-
quisitive Tommy. ;

“Got no squaw,” said the Indian. :

“That’s a funny name for a wife, anyway. What do you call
baby ?”

“That's funny. }
would mother think of calling
“Where white boy’s home?

“In Fordville.” t e
“Up the river. How white boy come down?” | |
“In a boat,” said Tommy; “the awfulest boat you ever saw. It

,

T’ve got a little baby brother at home. What
him a papoose?” .
asked the Indian,

_. came down well enough, but it won’t go back a step. I don’t see
_. how I’m ever going to get home. I’m glad you're not a bad In-

Ss dian, for I don’t know what mother would say if I should come
_. home without a scalp.” ik ‘
"The Indian looked as amused as an Indian can look, but said

salcedl, Tommy suddenly. “My

_ “Me make baskets,” said the Indian. Nests Ne ;
“Oh, let me see!” said Tommy. “My mother’s got a beautiful

em?” Rh acho hates) ;

Indian brought out a basket partly made, and

showed it to his young visitor. Tommy was very much interested.
‘Do you think I could learn to make baskets?” he said, , : ty

basket made by an Indian. Won't you show me how you make.

‘The majestic Montauvert was

WEEKLY.

“T wish mother’d let me come and learn basketmaking of you.
I might make money, you know. Besides, I wouldn’t have to go
to school.”

But meanwhile it was growing darker, and Tommy thought of
home and supper.

“Have you eaten supper yet?” he asked suggestively.
awful hungry.” 5

“Me give white boy something to eat,” said the Indian. And
he brought out some flat cakes that seemed to be made of very
coarse ground corn, mixed up with water only. At home Tommy
would have turned up his nose at. them; but he was really hungry,
and ate them with relish,

“Haven't you any pies or cake?” he asked.

The Indian shook his head.

“T should think you’d get tired of this bread all the time.
dear, how shall I get home?”

“White boy wait till morning, Indian carry him home.”

“Well, I guess I'd better, as it’s getting dark. But you haven't
got any bed, have you?”

The Indian pointed out a bearskin inside of the wigwam.

“White boy lie there,” he said,

“But where’ll you sleep?” asked Tommy.,

“Never mind Indian. Indian sleep anywhere.”

“T guess I won’t undress,” said Tommy. “I’m a papoose now,
and I must do like the papooses. You wake me up when the
sun rises.” :

Tommy slept peacefully all night, and woke quite refreshed in
the morning. ’ .,

The Indian set out with him on the return home, which they
reached by noon, greatly to the relief of Tommy’s almost dis-
tracted mother, who was so overjoyed to find her darling boy
again that she forgot to scold him.

As for the friendly Indian, he received a very liberal order for
baskets, which kept him at work for the next three months, and
Tommy struck up a friendship with him which still exists.

“Tm

Oh,

7

'

AN ALPINE HERO.
By MAX WIGHERLY.

In the valley of Chamonix, and on the bank of the impetuous
river Arve, there stood a quaint little Swiss cottage, which was
the home of Felix Bertolz, a chamois hunter of fame throughout ~
Switzerland. Wei

The only other occupants of the little cottage were his nephew
and niece, Frangois and Justine Oberman. 13 Phe AN

The latter was a bright girl of sixteen, who made a capital
housekeeper for her uncle. ven

Her brother was a shy, reserved lad, one year younger, who —
had so little in the way of his actions or personal appearance, to _
recommend him, that the peasantry of the neighboring village 0
Chamonix voted him a dolt, and prophesied that he would never —
become a true mountain boy. 1h tee
‘ oa Bertolz was almost inclined to fall in with, the general

elief.

Frangois' was a hunter, of course, by breeding. He would now
and. then signalize himself by shooting a chamois, when he could
do so without any difficulty or peril. But a single trophy would ©
satisfy his ambition for a long time, and this inactivity was gel-
erally ascribed to cowardice, + Re ote

“Pshaw! he is a baby!” was the ordinary comment bestowed —
upon him by the hardy young hunters of near his own age. “He |
is fit to chase wild goats on the hills, but he fears the ice rifts
where the chamois leaps. He would sooner sit with his pencil
and make pictures for which no one cared than show the true
blood of a hunter’s son.” _ Glat Rich aa a

The truth of the matter was that Francois Oberman was @
genius. earl 3 Li ee ae

Through the good nature of a young Englishman, a traveling
artist, who had once spent several months of a sketching tour at
his uncle’s cottage, he had acquired a thorough knowledge of the
rudiments of drawing. He loved the portrayal of the stupendot
and magnificent scenery surrounding his home much better tha
the hardy and difficult physical task of chasing the chamois from
peak to peak and ledge to ledge. sig Soon ah © OD hat at
_ Certainly no youthful genius ever had a nobler inspiration for
the cultivation of his art than young Oberman. mic

All around the little valley—itself but a green well in the heart
of the Appenines—rose the wild-mountains, with their tops of ice —
and everlasting snow. a Reape? Aa

exactly opposite, at the distat

¥

Wy hed AEH ¥ WP iitay aaah ¥

 

 

 

 
 

 

 

7 “ ene .
ees
SO NO
i;

tie (LOE

about a league; and behind and above it roared Mont a
oe the magnificent Mont Blanc; while all around, a ae
“usters, and in chaotic heaps, sprang the wild girs
bie of lice, piercing the clouds, and glittering with fadeless
Directi
~ T&ctly below the cottage garden, i
eee from its Suepent Stadie in the mountain tops, sped like
Tow to the vale below. ; :
ad Tancois cared very little for the sneers of his Sew
odin at taunts of cowardice, ser: persistent, misuncer
‘ng of his real nature, so long as he was
1S sketchbook on his lap, roger little garden in front of
cle’s cottage, or to roam to some scarcely accessible eft
t ence, amid the dashings of the torrents and the rum ing
rf _distant avalanche, portray in miniature on Se eS d-
ap way a faint impression of the awful and tremendous
Sone eee a oe ae
ile 8, when even his pretty S! n h
ited to silence old Do tolts ane and taunts at his aEt ESS
ang ould lazily seize his rifle, saunter away to the 6 age
way aiter remaining all day, rarely fail to return to the cottag
{a chamois on his shoulder.
© would get poor enough than

the Arve, cold, brilliant, and

cuses in his behalf

ks for even that much; for

; Such occasions his comrades were wont to say:
On what open

and quietly returned to his

plain among the

se
fe Ok Francois has a beast!
‘But id he find it sleeping?” a
ti he did not mind their injustice,
F book and pencils.
ath, day, sticceeding much rainy and other
Dit er, Francois was sketching from @ very ‘
ig oe ledge, which had long been a favorite oP ‘
a fet an unusual number of oe Sai
» @ short distance from where he was’§ :
alanche are a party of tourists watching te descent of some
“nche, I suppose,” said Frangois to Aimee: c ANE
be as the party was unusually large, and meee an fa se
aeave Signs of great excitement, throwing up Pee rue che
78 utterance to wild cries, he concluded to mo
see what it was all about. ee
bg i ‘ed by the party, he was
Eteprived ot tee nif ee had exhibited.

wise unfavorable
wild and pre-
of his, when
de of Mont-

-whereon they were, atanciing:
Mont Blanc, immediately opposite, was a Sed a ied
Wer Upward to a tremendous height, md ath ans
wall; r edge in an abrupt precipice, that forme iy BC ant ae
Sty ‘of its two companion peaks, the wall of a chas
- Dewdous in its depth. |
alanch this intervening slope was movin
anche,
tee VtSt field of snow, comprising @ surface of bid oe
Aone undermined by the recent rains and thaws, eis agit
Was Majestic motion, until it seemed that the very glacier aK
. toppling over into the abyss.
wy and then a sudden loosening ©

g a most imposing

f the base of moving Boe
Ww a

Hid cause the entire mass to shoot down a bane Auktabe

of 4, )"th incredible velocity, then some obstacle Oe aearel

ane mountain would arise, and the motion wou

fe . ke of the avalanche

e Reet these sudden shoots occurred the smo nt but during the

slo d spring aloft in great fountain ts

thie, roeaees the awful stillness, th a

» Was even more awful and imposing: same lee

ut far more terrible, far more frightful, than any SPO)
a sight presented by glancing down th

‘ce directly und

he must.at 4

er the edge of the

oment hurl its
nd i man, with the
haga ossed over
oppuzale of the rifle that supported him.
18 man was the old hunter, Felix Bertol™. tion ever the
dr he onlookers were lifting their voices lame SO atly
eadful fate that’ awaited him, but the hunter fees ee
his rifle, and gazed stolidly at the opposite wa

. er-
could hear the steady rubble tee tae his lips were
» atid was apparently resigned to devoutly.

4 4ng, and he was apparently Pe a feet below. the crag

Sat ough his position was over 4 oe standing, he might have

Which the crowd of witnésses Wa! ne correspon pe

ck of the *—

OE

permitted to sit, \

lata ge eta Penmaes mere | aN

WEEKLY.

But who, in the presence of that moving wonder, which might
at any instant, rush like a very Niagara of snow over the preci-
pice, would have dared such a death-defying attempt?

The eye of young Frangois Oberman took in this tremendous
situation at a single glance.

“Henry,” said he, turning to a young hunter whom he knew,
“take my sketchbook, and give me your hatchet and belt.”

“What are you going to do?” exclaimed the young hunter, in
astonishment. .

“T will rescue my Uncle Felix,” was the cool reply. “Now, do
just what I tell you, and be lively. There are ropes in the party?”

“Plenty of them,” replied the young fellow, who was scarcely
able to comprehend what he heard.

“Bring me the longest, and tie one end under my armpits.
Quick, man! You are as slow as the avalanche that is creeping
along the mountain there!”

Henry complied, scarcely knowing what he was about. But
when the rest of the party fully comprehended young Oberman’s
purpose, they thronged around him, and declared he should not
carry it into effect.

Unpopular as he had always been in the valley, they were un-
willing to see him throw away his life in an attempt apparently
so absolutely devoid of hope.

“Do not protest,” exclaimed Frangois sternly. “Do as I bid
you, or I shall cast myself into the chasm! I will not live to sec
my_ uncle perish !”

_ Seeing that he was, indeed, determined, they followed his direc-
tions with alacrity. Many of them considered his conduct doubly
noble and heroic when they remembered that his uncle had not
always been kind to him.

_The rope being made fast, and the end of another one given
him—which he placed between his teeth—Frangois directed them
to lower him over the verge of the chasm.

This was accordingly done, amid breathless suspense.

He had barely disappeared over the ledge, when, as if in ill
omen of his undertaking, the avalanche made a sudden, swift
slide, throwing up vast fountains of spray.

But with his face to the wall of ice, Francois called out to them
to lower him faster, and as he proceeded he kept himself off with
one hand and his knees, while with the other hand he plied his
hatchet, busily, cutting at regular intervals deep crevices into the
aan ice, so as to facilitate the progress of any one making the
ascent.

It was not until he had accomplished nearly half the descent
that his uncle appeared to realize the effort that was being made
to rescue him.

Then those at the edge of the chasm could see him shake his
head sorrowfully, as though he placed Jittle confidence in the suc-
cess of the attempt.

But Francois called out cheeringly :

“Courage, uncle, I shall yet save you!”

And at each time he did so, he would have to reach out for the
end of the rope, which the utterance of the words would compel
him to relinquish from between his teeth.

And all this time the party on the cliff-were trembling with
dread. For there, close at hand, moved that terrible avalanche
inexorable in its mobile silence, or loudly menacing in the deep
rumble of its sudden leaps.

But Frangwis proceeded bravely down, plying his hatchet as he
went, and in a short time he stood on the crag immediately oppo-
site his uncle, to whom he tossed the end of the spare rope with-
out any difficulty, inasmuch as the neck of the chasm, in which
they were, was only a few yards in width.

“Quick, uncle! I hear the voice of the avalanche grow louder !”
cried Francois. “Tie the rope securely under your arms!”

The old man needed no second bidding, but with eager, trem-
bling hands, obeyed. ; :

He swung across the chasm, and they were drawn up together.

Bertolz reached the top first, and was dragged over the edge
more dead than alive with fear. c

But Francois was only halfway over the edge, when
the rope, and cried out: i ‘ i . : beled

“Hold! Give me the end of the other rope once more. I must
descend into the chasm again.” Hae eR ns

“What for?” cried those at the top, in amazement.

“To get my uncle’s gun and the fine chamois, which he has left
upon the ledge.” Hee of

“You shall not!” exclaimed a dozen voices at once. “It is d
ste! The avalanche already trembles at the verge of the __
abyss ! ;

. Do as I bid you,” said Frangois. . Be ae ees ih
T hey saw how useless were their protestations, and obeyed __

 
fA

him as before. The hardy lad was again lowered into the abyss
amid a suspense tenfold more dreadful than that which had
previously prevailed.

While the thunder of the avalanche each moment grew louder
and more threatening, he reached the ledge, and succeeded, after
two or three ineffectual attempts, in swinging himself across to
the other side.

Here he quickly made the chamois and his uncle’s rifle fast to
the rope, whose end hé@ carried between his teeth, and the two
burdens were then drawn up again.

Just as Francois crept over the edge of the precipice, the
avalanche, as if it had been awaiting the event of his safety,
sprang into the yawning abyss with a noisé far surpassing any
thunder of the clouds. The entire party reeled back as the vast
fields of ice and snow went rushing down, flinging up a cataract
of mist, which for many moments obscured the sun.

Frangois quietly returned Henry his belt and hatchet, and re-_
ceived his sketchbook in return, with the simple remark:

“There! I hope hereafter you will hunt your chamois by your-
selves, and leave me to do my sketching in peace.” ;

An ovation awaited Francois in the valley of Chamonix. The
fame of his heroic deed resounded throughout the cantons of
Switzerland.

Even greater rewards were destined to be his.

This event attracted to him the attention of a number of
eminent artists, who, upon seeing the germs of genuine genius in
his rude mountain sketches, encouraged him freely with both
money and advice. He at last became a great painter himself.

TERRIBLY TRAGIC.

Business had been very slow indeed at the restaurant, and the
Waiter, in consequence, was especially attentive to his solitary
customer—a trifle too much so, in fact. When he had brushed
an imaginary crumb from his patron’s shoulder, lit his cigar, and
whisked away a prospecting fly, his eyes shone expectantly,

“Didn’t you have a brother in here last week, sir?” he asked. ‘

“No, I don’t think so,” said the customer. “Why do ‘you ask?

“Well, sir,” continued the servitor, “there was a gentleman
here last week who looked very much like you, and he was a:
gent, if you like. He gave me half a dollar, he did.”

“Oh,” said the customer, “did he?” He put down the exact
amount of his bill. ‘\

“Come to think of it,” he said, “that was my brother who was
here, and I reckon he paid for the whole family. Perhaps he’ll
be back again in a week or two. Good night!”

A FILIAL DEBT,

Percy had grown to be a very tall lad; his schooling was fin-
ished, and he had obtained a situation. °

“Father,” he said, with emotion, “I feel that the time has come
- when I should endeavor to make you some return for all the un-
remitting kindness you have shown toward me.” ; “4

“That is the right spirit, my son,” said little Mr. Milbanke. It
is the way to show me that my kindness has not been misplaced.

“Quite so, father, and I intend to start trying to pay my great
debt to-day.”

“In what way, my son?” said Mr. Milbanke.

“When I was a boy mother made my clothes from yours, did
she not?”
_ “I—TI believe so.” :

“Well, sir, here is a dress suit I have grown out of. With a
little alteration they will fit you splendidly. Take them, father,
they are but a small portion of my debt.”

WHAT IS A HERO?

“Ah, my husband’s a hero!” said Mrs. Dumps.
_ “Well, so’s mine!” exclaimed her neighbor.
“That’s more than you can prove, Mrs. Noggs!” retorted Mrs.
Dumps, ; 4
_Mrs. Noggs accepted the challenge. 4
“Listen to this!” she declared. “My old man has saved three
human lives, and never said a word about it to anybody.
“Huh!” sniffed Mrs. Dumps; “that’s nothing. ; we
“Tsn’t it?” cried Mrs. Noggs. “Well, see if you can better it!
- “Of course I can better it,” said Mrs. Dumps disdainfully.
“My husband took part in seventeen engagements during the Civil .
_War, and lost an arm or a leg in every one !

a vv As «
t

oe

" C r th = . - ” -
SE Rat Nat a ac a TTT a eh BC SR

J : . }
30 | TIP TOP WEEKLY.

APPLAUSE

uw

This is the “Get Together” Department. Here, every week, the
“Tip Top’? friends chat with the editor and with each other, The
“Tip Top” family knows no geographical boundaries: all over the
great round earth, from North to South, the members stand shoulder
to shoulder with Burt L. Standish for truth, honor, strength, courage,
and clean living. Man" letters are received—letters of comradeship,
praise and friendly criticism—and while we have not sufficient space
for their immediate publication, they are all welcomed, in turn, to
their place by the fireside.

Even Father Reads.

Even my father has read every Tip Top from number one to
oe and I have read them ever since I have been old enough to
read. cae

Beaumont, Texas.

A Good Influence.
Having read Tip Top for the last four years, I take the liberty

to write a few lines of what Tip Tops have done for me. They’

have kept me from smoking, drinking, and other b its.
Rockaway Beach, New York. F Oe ae M.

June Has a Namesake.

Ihave been reading Tip Top ever since I have been big enough
to read, and I think it is the best weekly I ever read. I would
like Ao réad some more about June. I think she is the pluckiest
a “h read about. I know some one who named their baby
after her. S sin

Wheeling, West Virginia. AzEL Hoove
A Cape Colony Friend.

Tip Top has done me much good, both mentally and physically,
and although I have read many weeklies, Tip Top is teed ee
of them all. I have induced two or three friends here to read
Tip Top, and they, too, think it the best weekly going.

Southwell, Cape Colony, South Africa. T. H. Pappocx.

“Dandg Tales.’

I want to write a line or two
To friend Burt L. again,
To thank, him for his dandy tales
Of noble boys and men.
While Vrankie and our Injun Heart
Are leading by a mile, }
There sure are fellows in their set
ones coer reader’s while.
e laugh at Cap’n Wiley’
And Obediah’s Pies, peptone
And poor old Hansie’s summersaults
In fielding awful flies;
~e a old lazy Browning,
nd we're ready with appla;
When what should be a et es
Sticks in Ephraim Gallup’s paws.
We're winning games in Maplewood
Or running down a trail, :
In Fardale we are walking post
Or kicking goal at Yale.
But you can place a bet on this
And know that you have won—
Each reader’s waiting breathlessly
For Merry’s little son.

We want to see him, like his dad
Pitch rings around them all: ”
apie tes ps and give the kid

4 chance to I
Washington, D. C. | oe ~

’

 

 

 
 

 

 

 

TIP TOP WEEKLY. 31

—

Talks with your chun
Caf age

neerning the

 

 

 

 

So Many inquiries reach us from week to week co
us es on athletic development, which we publish, ae
7 have decided to keep a list of them standing here. Any es da
Sn be had by mail by remitting 10 cents, and 3 cents postage,
~* Opy, to the publishers.
Frank Merriwell’s Book of Physical Development.
he Art of Boxing and Self-defense, by, Prof. Donovall
po Army Physical Exercises, revised by Prof, Donovan
“Aysical Health Culture, by Prof. Fourmen.

a

In a Predicament. : able
BEN was
Having read Tip ave Ore act would help
Iam an office boy an
he’day. I keep good

Pp
b

OF, Fourmen: :
4Y one, which was quite a while ago,
g i Of what I consider a predicament.
oy >ut in the open air very seldom during the S17" 16 years 0
bee urs, Soing to bed at nine and rising at seven. + coe orate, at
~ Weight, 104 pounds; neck, 1334 inches ; ae "18% inches;
rt orearm, 9 inches: biceps, 8% inches; a stout. M
» 12% inches; waist, 28 inches. ! think f am ke nor ciate
nYthin: slow. lam an amateur buxer. : eon} half cup @ day.
“ling but water or a little coffee, about VoUM.

mee Bitid' of exercise should I take?
ago, Illinois.
F you yearn for a chance to spen
, sommendable yearning—and still 1
SMice boy, yet chafe against the inde
temain in the predicament you mention.
F Predicament, however, is a simple matter.
Y Possible opportunity to be outdoors eee: ur job. In-
hours, Change your mental attitude toward yo Be wick
“ad of chafing at being indoors, think what earning ae mind to
*8ty means to you or to your family. Make up re re
Yon that job cheerfully, for the sake of the nee
aracter.

d°more time ovf of doors-~@
need to hold your job as
loor work, you certainly
How to get out of

Avail yourself of
nd after work-

H king t ¢ : . h
‘om. © tO it will strengthen your © adhe
© Now, or to do your work hhalf-heartedly, would be a

‘ ' ors
eran of weakness, Be a man. Yearm for the es Oe aed
" Work hard in that office during office hours . duty, out in
™Pensation in spending every possible mninetes 2 :

M4 Forgetting Self. 4
oF. Fourmen:. J watch the other boys playing Segoe ae
tres! Outdoor games, and wish I could Jom them. jancholy. Is
“mely nervous Often I am depresse and ‘ondition ?
& any medicine I can take to get rid Ot AM ANDREWS.
Ones, Lowa. icine.
Ager up, Bill! Cheering up will help you more ee is
Pur trouble is° mental, not physical. | The NOR 7 u feel like
«, ttulness, Join the boys.in their games, whens at forget
at first or not. After you're well into the game, ncae hard
ot nerves. Work hard at any sport a + ah da saying
 '8h to get tired, “Go round every minute © : i snl look
YOurself: “[’m having my picture taken

| If,
nt,” Cheer others up, t00, Bill. And forget yourse

“Shall 1 Go to New York?”

€; 1 gh After finishing my course F
> * Shall have to go to wo’
0 to ookkeeper. Wouldn't i here?
. bie Ee York? Wouldn't I do bette Tas RICHARDSON,
» + ennsylyania ; ' BS h
: : " Pu i t whe
OW are solemnly abjured, Nick, to tema Waar

n a business col-
and myself,

i

To desert that.

re you

are. The great city is already overcrowded with bookkeepers.
Stay where you are and enjoy your home comforts and the
cumulative advantages of being with friends and neighbors
among whom you have grown up. They will do far more for
you than strangers in New York, No matter how much you
yearn for the metropolis, crush the yearning, and stay in your —
home town, You'll be far happier there. So will your mother,

Fat, But Never Mind.

Proy. FourMEN: Being a constant reader of Tip Top, I take
the liberty to give you my measurements, I am 14 years old.
My weight is 121 pounds; height, 5 feet 4 inches; chest, 32 inches ;
neck, 13 inches; calf, 12 inches; thigh, 19 inches; waist, 29 inches.
I play baseball, football, and tennis. I am entirely too fat around -
the waist and legs. Please tell me what I can do to harden up
and make me lighter, .What ought I to eat? .

New Castle, Kentucky, Laiwrey DoutHitr.

You weigh a trifle too much for your height, that is true. But
your excess weight is not so great that you need worry about it.
Just go right on with your exercises, and eat what is put before
you so long as it is simple food. So-called fat is sometimes a
blessing. Stout persons, as a rule, possess the milk of human
kindness. Fat, as a rule, makes a man optimistic and cheery. He
laughs, readily, the kind of laugh that makes the world laugh
with him. Napoleon was as much too stout as you are, consider-
ing his height. Oliver Cromwell, the great English soldier, was
fat. Doctor Johnson, the great English author, was fat. Bis-
marck, the great German statesman, was fat. Balzac, the famous
French novelist, was fat. None of these distinguished men
worried because of his weight. Follow the example they set you
in the matter of complacency as to ayoirdupois.

Throwing the Hammer.

Pror., Fourmen: I belong to a local athletic club here, and
have Fhe particular attention to throwing the hammer. My
record is t10 feet. How far behind the amateur record am I?

Chicago, Illinois. Epwarp M, PELTEr.

You must gain 63 feet on your own record, Edward. In 1908
McGrath, of the New York Athletic Club, threw the hammer 173

feet.
Would Be a Chauffeur.

Pror, FourmMen: I have been a reader of Tre Top for the last
three years. I want to learn to run an automobile, What chance
have | for learning that art? G. G.-B

Shelburn, Indiana.

You couldn’t take up a better trade, in the mechanical world,
than that of driving a motor car. A chauffeur’s work is entirely
out of doors, which means that it is far better for your health
than working at any indoor trade. Your chances for learning to
run a car are just as plentiful as those found by the thousands

_of young men who are now driving cars. Get a job in a garage,

if you want to earn money while learning to run a car. Other-
wise, go to the nearest automobile school. A branch of the Y.
M. C, A. near you may have such a school, which you could at-
tend at moderate cost. A good chauffeur gets one hundred dol-
lars a month or more.

TOURNAMENT ANNOUNCEMENT.

In accordance with the terms of our Tir Tor Championship —
offer, the period in which ball clubs were required to send in
their coupons expired on October 15th. Owing to the fact that a
very large number of these coupons have been received, some —
little time will be necessary for their careful examination before

the awards are madé. The names of the winning clubs will be

announced at an early date, however, and nine handsome uni- -
forms will be sent to each of the two leading teams. In addition _
to the uniforms, the champion team also will receive a beautiful
championship pennant of fine silk. ; a a

 
  
     
   
  
   
  
   
   
  
   
   
   
   
  
   
   
   
   
   
  
    
   
   
  
   
 

 

 

SALLY, OF THE BACK NUMBERS OF

 

 
 

 

 

 

 

THAT CAN NOW BE SUPPLIED

 

506—Frank Merriwell’s Tigers. 595—Dick Merriwell’s « “Double 674—Frank Merriwell’s Bullets. 743—Dick Merriwell in Court.
508—F rank Merriwell’s Flying Fear. Squeeze.” 675—F rank Merriwell’s Cut Of. 744—Dick Merriwell’s Silence,
509—Dick Merriwell in Maine. 596—Dick Merriwell’s Vanishing. 676—Frank Merriwell’s Ranch Boss, 745—Dick Merriwell’s Dog.
510—Dick Merriwell’s Polo Team. 597—Dick Merriwell Adrift. 677—Dick Merriwell’s Equal. 746—Dick Merriwell's Subterfuge.
511—Dick Merriwell in the Ring. 598—Dick Merriwell’s Influence. 678—Dick Merriwell’s bDevelopment. 747—Dick Merriwell’s. Enigma.
512—Frank Merriwell’s New Idea, 599—Frank Merriwell’s Worst Boy. '879——Dick Merriwell’s Eye, 748—Dick Merriwell Defeated.
518—F rank Merriwell’s Trouble. 600—Frank Merriwell’s Annoyance. 680—Frank Merriwell’s Zest. 749—Dick Merriwell’s “Wing.”
514—Frank Merriwell’s Pupils. 601—Frank Merriwell’s Restraint. 681—Frank Merriwell’s Patience. §750—Dick Merriweil’s Sky Chase,

1

515—Dick Merriwell’s Satisfaction. 602—Dick Merriwell Held Back. 682—Frank Merriwell’s Pupil. 51—Dick Merriwell’s Pick-ups.
516—Dick Merriwell’s Discernment. 603—Dick Merriwell in the Line. 683—Frank Merriwell’s Fighters. | 752—Dick Merriwell on the Rocking R
517—Dick Merriwell’s Friendly Hand 604—Dick Merriwell’s Drop Kick. 684—Dick Merriwell at the ‘“Meet.””. 753—Dick Merriwell's Penetration.

518—Frank Merriwell’s New Boy. 605—Frank Merriwell’s Air Voyage. 685—Dick Merriwell’s Protest. 754—Dick Merriwell’s Intuition.
519—Frank Merriwell’s Mode, 606—Frank Merriwell’s Auto Chase. 686—Dick Merriwell in the Mara- 755—Dick Merriwell’s Vantage.
520—Frank Merriwell’s Aids. 607—Frank Merriwell’s Captive. thon. 756—Dick Merriwell’s Advice.
521—Dick Merriwell’s Visit. 608—Dick Merriwell’s Value. 687—Dick Merriwell’s Colors. 757—Dick Merriwell’s Rescue.
522—Dick Merriwell’s Retaliation. 609—Dick Merriwell Doped. 688—Dick Merriwell, Driver. 758—Dick Merriwell, American.

} 528—Dick Merriwell’s Rival. 610—Dick Merriwell’s Belief. 689—Dick Merriwell on the Deep. 759—Dick Merriwell’s Understand-
524—F rank Merriwell’s Young Crew. 611—Frank Merriwell in the Mar-690—Dick Merriwell in the North ing.

>

30—Dick Merriwell, Tutor.
61—Dick Merriwell's Quandary.
62—Dick Merriwell on the Boards.

525—Frank Merriwell’s Fast Nine. ket. Woods,
526—Frank Merriwell’s Athletic 612—Frank Merriwell’s Fight for 691—Dick Merriwell’s Dandies.
Field Fortune. 692—Dick Merriwell’s Skyscooter.

T-1-]

eld.
527.—Dick Merriwell’s Reprisal. 618—Frank Merriwell on Top. 698—Dick Merriwell in the Elk 763—Dick Merriwell, Peacemaker,
528—Dick Merriwell Dared., 614—Dick Merriwell’s Trip West. Mountains. 764—Frank Merriwell’s Sway.
529—Dick Merriwell’s Dismay. 615—Dick Merriwell’s Predicament. 694—Dick Merriwell in Utah. 765—Frank Merriwell’s Compre-
530—Frank Merriwell’s Son. 616—Dick Merriwell in Mystery 695—Dick Merriwell’s Bluff. hension.
531—Frank Merriwell’s Old Flock. Valley. 696—Dick Merriwellin the Saddle. 766—Frank Merriwell’s Young
532—Frank Merriwell’s House Party 617—Frank Merriwell’s Proposition. 697—Dick Merriwell’s Ranch Iriends Acrobat.
533—Dick Merriwell’s Summer Team 618—-Frank Merriwell Perplexed. 698—Frank Merriwell at Phantom 767—Frank Merriwell’s Tact.

5384—Dick Merriwell’s Demand. 619—F rank Merriwell’s Suspicion. Lake, 768—Frank Merriwell’s Unknown.

537—Frank Merriwell’s Proposal. 620—Dick Merriwell’s Gallantry. 699—Frank Merriwell’s Hold-back. 769—Frank Merriwell’s Acuteness.

538—Frank Merriwell’s Spook- 621—Dick Merriwell’s Condition. 700—Frank Merriwell’s Lively Lads. 770—Frank Merriwell’s Young
6

hunters. 92-—Dick Merriwell’s Stanchness. 701—Frank Merriwell as Instructor. Canadian.
539—Dick Merriwell’s Cheek. 623—Dick Merriwell’s Match. 702—Dick Merriwell’s Cayuse. 771—Frank Merriwell’s Coward.

* 540—Dick Merriwell’s Sacrifice. 624—Frank Merriwell’s Hard Case. %703—Dick Merriwell’s Quirt. 772—Frank Merriwell’s Perplexity:
541—Dick Merriwell’s Heart. 625—Frank Merriwell’s Helper. @04—Dick Merriwell’s Freshman 773—Frank Merriwell’s Interven-
542—Frank Merriwell’s New Auto. 626—Frank Merriwell’s Doubts. : Friend. tion.
543—Frank Merriwell’s Pride. 627—Frank Merriwell’s “Phenom.” 705—Dick Merriwell’s Best Form. | 774—-Frank Merriwell’s Daring Deed
544—Frank Merriwell’s Young 628—Dick Merriwell’s Stand. 706—Dick Merriwell's Prank, 775—Frank Merriwell’s Succor.

nners. 629—Dick Merriwell’s Circle. 707—Dick Merriwell’s Gambol. 776—Frank Merriwell's Wit.
545—Dick Merriwell’s Lead. 630—Dick Merriwell’s Reach. 708—Dick Merriwell’s Gun. 777—Frank Merriwell’s Loyalty.
546—Dick Merriwell’s Influence, 631—Dick Merriwell’s Money. 709—Dick Merriwell at His Best. 778—Frank Merriwell’s Bold Play.
547—Dick Merriwell’s Top Notch, 632—Dick Merriwell Watched. 710—Dick Merriwell’s Master Mind. 779—Frank Merriwell’s Insight.
548—Frank Merriwell’s Kids. 633—Dick Merriwell Doubted. 711—Dick Merriwell's Dander. 780—Frank Merriwell’s Guile.
549—Frank Merriwell’s Kodakers. 1634—Dick Merriwell’s Distrust. 712—Dick Merriwell's Hope, 781—Frank Merriwell's Campaign. —
550—Dick Merriwell, Freshman. 635—Dick Merriwell’s Risk. 713—Dick Merriwell’s Standard. 782—Frank Merriwell in the Na-
551—Dick Merriwell’s Progress. 636—Frank Merriwell’s Favorite. 714—Dick Merriwell’s Sympathy. tional Forest.

552—Dick ce Half-back, 637—Frank  Merriwell’s Young715—Dick Merriwell in Lumber 783—Frank Merriwell’s Tenacity.

53—Dick Merriwell’s Resentment. Clippers. Land. 3 : 784—Dick Merriwell’s Self-sacrifice.
3e4— Dick Merriwell Repaid. 638—Frank Pierriwell’s Steadying pre setree Merriwell’s Fairness. {85—Dick Merriwell’s Close Shave.

Ze iwell’s Staying Power and. 7—Frank Merriwell’s Pledge. (86—Dick Merriwell’s Perception.
Bo6—Dick Morriwell's “Push. , 6389—Frank Merriwell’s Record ieee pigsenrgtl, the Man of FETT SEBS Merriwell’s Mysterious
557— iwell’s Running. reakers. rate ; sappearance.
P38 Dick Merriwell’s Joke. : 640—Dick Merriwell’s Shoulder. 71i9—Frank Merriwell’s Return 788—Dick Merriwell’s Detective
559—Dick Merriwell’s Seven. 641—Dick Merriwell’s Desperate Blow. ; ork. :
560—Dick Merriwell’s Partner. . ‘ Work. peat te ‘ Toe eae aren ‘s cece, os ee pertiwen s aeons F

re gh th " atin D ’s Example. HT ferriwell’s Ingots. 90—. ell’s Brain Work.
Cae aee Meret y Cacti G43—pick Martiwell at Gale's Ferry. 722—Frank Merriwell’s Assistance. 791—Dick Merriwell’s Queer Case.

ed Merriwell’s Captive.
563—Frank Moprivell’s Trailing.  644—Dick Merriwell’s Inspiration. 723—Frank Merriwell at the 792—Dick Merriwell, Navigator.

64— k Merriwell’s Talisman. 645—Dick Merriwell’s Shooting. Throttle, 793—Dick Merriwell’s Good Fellow-
bes Frank Merriwell’s Horse. 646—Dick Merriwellin the Wilds. 724—Frank Merriwell, the Always gh ;
566—Frank Merriwell’s Intrusion. 647—Dick Merriwell’s Red Comrade. eer 794—Dick Merriwell’s Fun.
567—Frank Merriwell’s Bluff. 648—Frank Merten Ba adie Aaa eee erriwell in Diamond cee eee ae Commence-
568— iwell’s Regret. 649—Frank Merriwell in the dle, . é ;
569—Dick Morriwell’s Silent Work. 650—Frank atopy eres Bian. ta 7 a BE eae oro abe s Desperate Ieee Merriwell at Montauk
E ll’s Arm. 651—F rank Merriwell’s Red Guide. Cai oint. :
/ B11—Dick Mertivetts Skill, 652—Dick Merriwell’s Bivel, ay sscotteskig” © Merriwell’s Black Ter- faa Merriwetl, Mediator.
572— Ils Magnetism. 653—Dick Merriwell’s Strength. : 4 798—Dick Merriwell’s Decision.
- b13—Dick Morriwell’s System, 654—Dick Merriwell’s Secret Work. TaSio Neha Mee Eyey Again on the 799—Dick Merriwell on the Great

574—Dick Merriwell’s Salvation. 655—Dick Merriwell’s Way

we , poe . I's Ginger. Map.
bee Dick Merrivale Beeedva ge Bit Mocriweil’s Driving. 735—Prank Merriwell, Prince of806—Dick, | Merriwell's "Young
eer.

583—Dick Merriwell’s Disadvantage. 664—Dick aeageeny

—Dick Merriwell’s Good e Rope. i Pitcher.

s86—D ct Merriwell’s Distrust. 666 Frank Merriwell’s Theory. 736—Dick Merriwell, Captain of 807—Dick Merriwell’s Prodding.
587—Dick Merriwell, Lion Tamer. 667—Frank Merriwell’s Diplomacy. the ees 808—Frank Merriwell’s Boy.
588—Dick Msrriwell’s Camp-site. 668—KFrank Merriwell’s Encour- 737—Dick Merriwell’s Control. 809—Frank Merriwell’s Interfer-.

 

738—Dick Merriwell’s Back Sto

— a agement. Dp. ence,
/ 590—D ck Merriwell's Camp Mates. 6¢9-—Frank Merriwell’s Great Work. 739—Dick Merriwell’s Masked En- Rene ts Merriwell’s Young
; 67 / ors. ;

; *sy/Mind. emy.
Bow ware peer trou s Dra. oe Merrtwerd Di : 740—Dick Merriwell’s Motor Car. 811—-Frank Merriwell’s orgivences

 

d
592—Dick Merriwell’s Disapproval. 671—Dick Merriwell’ ae
593—Dick Merriwell’s Mastery. 672—Dick Merriwell’s Rally.
594—Dick Merriwell’s Warm Work. 673—Dick Merriwell’s Flier,

‘PRICE, FIVE CENTS PER COPY

If you want any back numbers of our weeklies and cannot procure them from your news-dealer, they can be obtained direct
ent a ee OK St from this office. Postage-stamps taken the same as money. |

 

742—Dick Merriwell at Forest Lake. 818—Frank Merriwell’s La

ord | j

TIP TOP WEEKLY.

741—Dick Merriwell’s Hot Pursuit. 812—Frank Merriwell’s Forgiveness —

'

STREET & SMITH, PUBLISHERS, 79-89 SEVENTH AVE., NEW YORK —

    
    
      
      
     
     
 
    
     
    
    
     
      

5 ae Lakes. a
575—Dick Merriwell’s Twirling. 656—Frank Merriwell’s Red Visitor. 729—Frank Merriwell’s Hard Game, 800—Dick Merriwell Caught Nap- ‘ —

    
     
   
    
     

— ll’s Party. 57—Frank Merriwell’s Rope. 730—Frank Merriwell’s Six-in-hand, _ ping.
17D - Merriwell’s Backers. 656—Frank Merriwell’s Lesson. 731—Frank Merriwell’s Duplicate. 801—Dick Merriwell in the Copper
578—Dick Merriwell’s Coach. 659-—Frank Merriwell’s Protection. 732—Frank Merriwell on Rattle- Country. a:
579—Dick Merriwell’s Bingle. 660—Dick Merriwell’s Reputation. snake Ranch, 802—Dick Merriwell Strapped.
580—Dick Merriwell’s Hurdling. 661—Dick Merriwell’s Motto. 738—Frank Merriwell’s Sure Hand. . Sie Bick Merriwell’s Coolness.
581—Dick Merriwell’s Best Work. | 662—Dick Merriwell’s Restraint. 734—Frank Merriwell’s Treasure 804—Dick Merriwell’s Reliance. ci

805—-Dick Merriwell’s College Ma:*.

     
    
   

 

     
         
        
    
     
 
 

 

 

 

PARLY NUMBERS OF Fire

TIP TOP WEEKLY

WILL BE FOUND IN THE NEW MEDAL LIBRARY

 

 

A few years ago we were obliged to disappoint thousands of readers who wanted the
stories of the early adventures of Frank and Dick Merriwell which were published in Tip

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

It was impossible

for us to reprint Tip Top Weekly, so we made the stories up in book form and published
them in the New Medal Library at intervals of about four weeks beginning with No. 150.
Here is a list of these splendid books which contain Nos. 1 to 509 of Tip Top

Weekly.

Our experience with these books has taught us that thousands of boys are

overjoyed at this opportunity to secure their favorite stories in a more compact and

permanent form.

150—Frank
167—F rank
178—Frank
184—F rank
189—F rank
193—F rank
197—F rank
zo1—F rank

205—Frank,

209—F rank
213—Frank
217—Frank
225—Frauk
229—Frank
233—Frauk
237—Frank
240—Frank
244—F rank
247—Frank
251—Frank
254—Frank
258—Frank
262—Frank
267—Frank
271—Frank
276—Frank
280—F rank
284—Frank
288—Frank
292—F rank
296—Frank
300—Frank
304—F rank
308—Frank
312—Frank
316—Frank
320—Frank
324—F rank
328—Frank
332—F rank
336—Frank
340—F rank

Merriwell’s School-days.
Merriwell’s Chums.
Merriwell’s Foes.
Merriwell’s Trip West.
Merriwell Down South.
Merriwell’s Bravery.
Merriwell’s Hunting Tour.
Merriwell in Europe.
Merriwell at Yale.
Merriwell’s Sports Afield.
Merriwell’s Races.
Merriwell’s Bicycle Tour.
)..erriwell’s Courage.
Merriwell’s Daring.
Merriwell’s Athletes.
Merriwell’s Skill.
Merriwell’s Champions.
Merriwell’s Return to Yale.
Merriwell’s Secret.
Merriwell’s Danger.
Merriwell’s Loyalty.
Merriwell in Camp.
Merriwell’s Vacation.
Merriwell’s Cruise.
Merriwell’s Chase.
Merriwell in Maine.
Merriwell’s Struggle.
Merriwell’s First Job.
Merriwell’s Opportunity.
Merriwell’s Hard Luck.
Merriwell’s Protégé.
Merriwell on the Road.
Merriwell’s Own Company.
Merriwell’s Fame.
Merriwell’s College Chums.
Merriwell’s Problem.
Merriwell’s Fortune.
Merriwell’s New Comedian
Merriwell’s Prosperity.
Merriwell’s Stage Hit.
Merriwell’s Great Scheme.
Merriwell in England.

344—Frank Merriwell on the Boulevards

348—Frank
352—Frank

Merriwell’s Duel.
Merriwell’s Double Shot.

356—Frank Merriwell’s Baseball Victories

359—Frank
362—Frank
365—Frank
308—Frank
371—Frank

Merriwell’s Confidence.
Merriwell’s Auto.
Merriwell’s Fun.
Merriwell’s Generosity.
Merriwell’s Tricks.

374—Frank Merriwell’s Temptation.

STREET & SMITH, Publishers, NEW YORK CITY

Price, Fifteen Cents

377—F rank
380—F rank
383— Frank
386—F rank
389—F rank
392—F rank
395—F rank
398—F rank
4o1—F rank
404— Frank
407—F rank
410—F rank
413—Frank
416—F rank
419—F rank
422—Frank
425—Frank
428—F rank
431—Frank
434—F rank
437—F rank
440—Dick
443—Dick
446—Dick
449—Dick
452—Dick
455—Dick
458—Dick
461—Dick
464—Dick
467—Dick
470—F rank

per copy.
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.

Merriwell at Fardale.
Merriwell’s Glory.
Merriwell’s Promise.
Merriwell’s Rescue.
Merriwell’s Narrow Escape.
Merriwell’s Racket.
Merriwell’s Revenge.
Merriwell’s Ruse.
Merriwell’s Delivery.
Merriwell’s Wonders.

Merriwell’s Honor.

473—Dick Merriwell’s Diamond.

476—Frank
479—Dick
482—Dick
485—Dick
488—Dick
491—Dick
494—Dick
497—Frank

Merriwell’s Winners.

Merriwell’s Dash.
Merriwell’s Ability.
Merriwell’s Trap.
Merriwell’s Defense.
Merriwell’s Model.
Merriwell’s Mystery.

Merriwell’s Backers.

s00—Dick Merriwell’s Backstop.

503—Dick Merriwell’s Western Mission.

506—F rank
5so09—F rank

Merriwell’s Rescue.
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—F rank

530—F rank

Merriwell’s Trump Card.
Merriwell’s Strategy.

533—lrank Merriwell’s Triumph.
530—Dick Merriwell’s Grit.
539—Dick Merriwell’s Assurance.
542—Dick Merriwell’s Long Slide.
545—Frank Merriwell’s Rough Deal.
548—Dick Merriwell’s Threat.
551—Dick Merriwell’s Persistence.
554—Dick Merriwell’s Day.

557—F rank Merriwell’s Peril.
560—Dick Merriwell’s Downfall.
503—Frank Merriwell’s Pursuit.
506—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.
590—Dick Merriwell, the Wizard.
593—Dick Merriwell’s Stroke.
596—Dick Merriwell’s Return.
5909—Dick Merriwell’s Resource.
602—Dick Merriwell’s Five.
605—Frank Merriwell’s Tigers.
608—Dick Merriwell’s Polo Team.
611—Frank Merriwell’s Pupils.
614—Frank Merriwell’s New Boy.
617—Dick Merriwell’s Home Run.
620—Dick Merriwell’s Dare.
623—lrank Merriwell’s Son.
626—Dick Merriwell’s Teammate.
6290—Frank Merriwell’s Leaguers.
632—I'rank Merriwell’s Happy Camp.
635—Dick Merriwell’s Influence.

Published about September 19, tort.
638—Dick Merriwell, Freshman.

Published about October 10, tort.
641—Dick Merriwell’s Staying Power.

Published about October’ 31, tort.
644—Dick Merriwell’s Joke.

Published about November 21, tort.
647—Frank Merriwell’s Talisman.

Published about December 12, rort.
6=0—Frank Merriwell’s Horse.

Published about January 2,
653—Dick Merriwell’s Regret.

IQI2.

 

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