An Ideal Publication ForThe American Youth Issued Weekly. Entered as Second-ciass Matter at the New York Post Office according to an act of Congress, March $, 1879. Published by STREET & SMITH, 19-89 Seventh Ave., New York. Copyright, 1913, by STREET & SMITH. O. G. Smith and G. C. Smith, Proprietors. _) Terms to NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY Mail Subscribers. (Postage Free.) Single Copies or Back ove 5c. Each. How to Send Money—By post-office or express money order, regis- tered letter, bank check or draft, at ourrisk, At your own risk ifsent by currency, coin, or postage stamps in ordinary letter... RIE CHE. cn bccn cues RSP e aan BFC. ONO YeAL -oeseseeeee ceceatcveces oe 50 Receipts—Receipt of your remittance is acknowledged by proper 4 MONEHS, «00.0 ecoesssvacveres 85¢e. 2 copies one year - soeee - 4,00 change of number on your label. If not correct you have not been 6 months. ..+-+- seeeee-$1.25 1 COPY TWO YEATS.-+++00-+eeerees 4.00 properly credited, and should let us know at ortce, * No. 46. NEW YORK, June 14, 1913. Price Five Cents. 4 _ ers to complete the full duota for the game. __-very first inning Frank had begun to shift his men, watch- ing the work keenly and trying to find the exact position Neil: Rodno was backstop at the start. Frank Merriwell, Junior’s, Outfielder; Or, GLORY, OF McGLORY. By BURT L. STANDISH. CHAPTER I. A RUNNING CATCH. “IT say, Hop!” “Allee samee, Melly.” “I want you to get into the box and do the tyrashing. Let’s see what kind of a wing you have.” “Hoop-a-la! Can do.” “Coddington, you’ve warmed the bench long enough. Hop Wah’s going to pitch, so you go down and cover second.” “On the jump, Chip.” The Chinese second baseman fluttered excitedly away toward the middle of the diamond, and Nod Coddington hoisted himself off the bench and started for bag num- ber two. Merriwell’s Athletes were having a work-out. It was ‘in the nature of a trial game, with the crack amateurs about evenly divided between the opposing nines. Rufus Horton, aided by young Frank Merriwell and Owen Clancy, had chosen, the amateurs from far and a wide and had just rounded them up in Blyfield. As yet, not all who were counted upon had joined the squad, and the line-up was a man short. © Merry had no intention of letting the athletes loaf and cool their heels while the rest of the crack crowd was straggling in. He wanted to get a line on the capabilities of the different members of the team, and now, for the . first time, he and Horton were seeing them actively at work, Boys from Blyfield hana furnished enough play- _From the best fitted to each of the regular squad. Frank liked his work, but wanted to consider Pennyworth for the same position. In order to compare the performances of Rod and Penn behind the bat, he sent in Penn to catch on the nine against Rod. Penn seemed a shade the better, and Merry took Rod off and had Coddington put on mask and protector. Later on he sent Cod to the bench and put Rod back in his original place. Hop Wah had begun his afternoon’s work on the initial sack, for one team, while Clancy, the old reliable, heid down the first bag for the other, The Chinaman’s com- mand of the position was a revelation in fast and snappy ball playing, and there wasn’t a second when he failed to be on the job. . “Remarkable!” breathed Horton delightedly, as he watched Hop Wah’s work. “That Chinaman’s a wonder! He’s as good as Clancy, I think, and that means that he’s a top-liner.” “Hop claims to be an all-round ball player,” said Frank. “I'll just put him across at short and see what happens.” The Chinaman proved to be as good at short as he was at first, so Frank chinked him in at third, and finally brought him back to second. Anywhere and everywhere he seemed thoroughly at home. last half of the ninth, Frank concluded to try him out at the mound. While the nines were changing, Horton, who had thrown himself on the grass at a point where he could view the field clearly, suddenly started up and turned to Frank. “Every one of our crowd, with the possible exception of Villum Kess,” said he, “is class A, and hard to beat. | wish to thunder we had a full team, Chip. Lattimer, of the Pirates, has sent us another challenge. I’d like to accept it for Saturday. Couldn’t you get one of the acad- -emy fellows to fill in for a game on that day?” < Finally, just before the. NEW TIP “T could, Rufus,” answered Frank, “but I hate to. What I'd ltke would be to play our own fellows—the chaps we're to travel with over the West. Aren’t any of the stragglers liable to drop in before Saturday?” Horton shook his head. — “I’m afraid not,” he answered. “Three or four more amateurs will join our crowd, but it will probably be a week or two before they can get here.” “Well, I wouldn’t fret because we can’t accept a chal- lenge to play the Pirates. Lucius Lattimer is a skunk. We both know that. He has shown himself up pretty well, IT think.” Lattimer, over in Trawlee, was getting together a rival crowd of athletes. He called his outfit the Pirates. A few days before, he had sent one of his amateurs to Bly- field ostensibly to join Merriwell’s Athletes, but really to ereate dissension among Frank’s fellows, and so secure some good material for the Pirates. -The plot had failed, although it had come very near causing Pennyworth to bolt and go over to Lattimer. “Because he is an unscrupulous trickster, Chip,” re- turned Horton, “is the very reason I want to trim his crowd, If we don’t accept this second challenge, Lattimer will say we're afraid ‘of him. If Merriwell’s Athletes begin their summer schedule right, they'll start in by wal- loping the Pirates,” By that time the ball players were at work. Horton _ gave attention to the game, and, for the moment, ceased - to worry about Lattimer. The game was. going forward on the academy athletic field. There were a few students present to witness the. contest, mostly admirers of Merriwell.. On the board fence that hemmed in the lower part of the field a solitary fig- ure had been sitting ever since the playing started. Who this fellow was, or why he did not come up nearer the grand stand, Frank had no idea. There he perched, how- ever, silent and watchful, and apparently, not one detail of the work on the diamond escaped him. Hop Wah’s baggy trousers and fluttering blouse made him a picturesque figure in the pitcher’s box. The uni- forms for Merriwell’s Athletes had not yet arrived, and so the amateurs were wearing their ordinary clothes. There was an individuality about the way the Chinaman “wound up” that would have been comical had it failed to bring results. What happened after the ‘ball left his yellow fingers, however, was little short of marvelous. One of the academy fellows was first at bat. Hop fanned ' him with an ease and decision that called forth yells of delighted wonder. The second man up-Billy Dill, of the ah hesen shamis aged to get to the ball for a hot one. the air directly over Hop’s head. With a wriggle, the - Chinaman arose as if on springs and pulled the ball in out of the void, Dill flung down his bat in disgust. “Hop is a hopper, and no mistake,” rhymed Dill, in char- acteristic style; “he’s right. on the job and he’s always. awake.” ; ; “Now we'll see some fun,” said i Mery to Horton, with a chuckle. “Villum Kess is next at bat. He and Hop have no love for each other, but I’ve told Villum he'd have ta keep. on good terms with the Chinaman or else ‘get off the team. Just wey your eye on what anno gE Rufus.” Chubby Villu pulled his feb fgcly hard down on his long, tow-colored hair, threw off hig bob-tailed coat, and, TOP The sphere singed | on it with all his power. -was seen to tumble into the field and to start at top speed WEEKLY. in all the splendor of his blue-and-white striped vest, now I stood forth and rapped the plate with the end of his bat. “I bet you someding for nodding you don’d gif me a a goot vone,” nagged Villum. “You vas afraidt I make some - | hits mit der pall. Now den, Hopper-Skipper-Chumper, you a put vone der plate ofer und vatch vile I make.me some 9 home runs.” A Hop Wah went through his contortions and ‘his right hand leaped out. -Villum took the bat under his arm and © bowed to the ball as it went past. “You oplidge me mit a vide vone ad vich I don’d pite,” cried the Dutch boy. “I got me some goot eyes, I bet you.” “Strike!” yelled the umpire. Hop Wah danced a couple of steps. faded and he howled wrathfully. “Ropper!” yelled Villum, shaking his fist at the umpire. “Dot pall vas dwendy feet avay ven my pat vent past it alretty, I know vat I know. By chincher, I don’d like some vone-sited dreadment. I make a gomplaint——” While Villum was doing his faultfinding, Rodno had re-— turned the ball to Hop, and Hop had let it go back with- out any preliminary winding up: As a conseqtience, Vil- lum still had his bat under his arm when the sphere cut the plate squarely in half. ae & “Strike two!” bawled the umpire. oh: A roar of ate: went up from spectators and eho ers. “Get in the game, Dutchy ! !” shouted some of the academy fellows. Villum’s smile & “What's the matter with you? eas Hop got you hypno- tized ?” ; “Take off that striped vest—it gives you a hocus- | pocus!” Villum howled angrily as he took the bat in his fhiatids. “A schmard Alec you vas, anyvay!” he declared. “You shdeal me a shdrike ven I gomplain met der umbire! Go bie und choin mit der Birates for sooch vork, dot's: sis vat I ‘say.’ oe Hop made a third delivery. -Villum twitched and had als notion, but finally concluded that it wasn’t the right kind of an invitation to accept. bath “Ball one!” announced the umpire. Villum patted his chest. “Ven it iss vide I know ss dime!” he diclated be mg ginning to feel better. Again the ball went through and again Villum iniege as though he wanted to strike at it: But he didn't. “Ball two!” cried the umpire. iy Boh eae tee “Hoop-en-de-doo!” exulted Villum. “I don’d vas fooled mit der pad vones. How dit der umbire make.it oudt?” Once more Hop fired the horsehide, Villum came down Billy Dill said he shut his — eyes when he struck, but that may have been a mistake. | Anyhow, the fact remains that Villum landed. on th sphere for a smashing fly ’way into the outfield. ; No fielder was near the ball. The figure on the fence for the spot where the ball was due to come down. He had no business interfering, of course, but that did not i seem to hinder him. Re After a iene. hard run he was sti short of the spot where he should have been in order to make a safe catch, but he flung himself into the air in a freshen: NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY. 3 | 3 aca: and, with one hand, clutched the falling sphere. As “he dropped to his feet he held up his hand, and his fingers were seen to be clutching the ball firmly. It was a most remarkable catch. CHAPTER II. JOHN GLORY. There were howls of anger from all over the field. -Per- haps the most wrathful chap on the diamond was Villum Kess; at least, he made the most noise. He had. aston- ished everybody—himself, probably, most of all—by getting a hit. And now to have an outsider rush in, and, by a magnificent effort, get under the ball and hang to it, was a little too much for Villum’s temper. Halfway to first the Dutch boy ‘stopped and pranced around in the path, shaking his fists and saying things, The umpire had announced a block ball. “Go on, Villum!” yelled Frank. “Vat for I go on ven der fly has caught dot feller?” demanded Villum. “Run! run!” urged the crowd. The Dutch boy, hearing so many shouts imploring him to go on, set off at speed. He touched first, and dug: in for second. The stranger who had caught the ball, and had proved conclusively that he had held it, dropped it at his feet and retreated toward the fence. One of the fielders was bear- ing down on him, but there had been no delay in the fielding by the stranger’s queer tactics. The ball was relayed to Coddington. By then, Vil- lum had taken the bit in his teeth and was bound and de- termined to make a home run out of it. Everybody yelled for him to hold at third—but he wouldn’t. As a conse- quence, Cod made a fine throw to the catcher and the runner was! touched out at the home plate. Then the um- pire sprung a surprise. 4 “Safe!” he shouted. Villum had commenced to air his injured feelings, but the unexpected decision by the umpire changed his mood from anger to exultation. “Rotten!” remarked Rufus Horton. a mile.” . “Not technically, Horton,” said Frank. “On a block ball base runners can make the bases without liability of being put out until the ball. has been returned and held by the pitcher in his position. The mistake was Cod- dington’s. He should have thrown me ball to Hop ~ Wah.” A good many. of the fellows understood this, and those who did not finally had it explained to their satisfaction. Villum had made the only home run of the game, and he started for the bench, stepping high, wide, and hand- some. The next man up was struck out neatly and expedi- -tiously, and the game was finished. While most of the : players were hurrying toward the academy gym and the \“Villum was out as bathrooms, Frank, Horton, and Clancy came together for a powwow in front of the’grand stand. "What do you think of this bunch, ~the red-headed fellow inquired. , . “Tickled clear through!” answered Horton, enthusiasti- _ cally. “Even Villum Kess seems to make good. Perhaps we have underrated that Dutchman.” . “Mistakes are liable to happen. anyhow, Rufe?” ~ team, if we don’t. what I can do. Strikes me that hit — was a fluke on Villum’s part. I don’t believe he could Ado it again for money.” “Hanged if I agree with you, Clan,” demurred Frank. “There’s real ability back of that sloppy carelessness of Villum’s. He pretends to be a blunderer, but I’ll bet there is method in his foolishness.” “Go on, Chip!” expostulated Clancy. “You're fooled. Villum is a good fellow, but he’s not a real ball player. What do you think, Rufe?” “I’m on the fence,” answered Horton, with a laugh. “He’s good enough, I reckon, to Play on our team against the Pirates.” “Pirates?” echoed Clancy. wasn’t it?” “Lattimer has challenged us for another game next Saturday. Our nine is a man short, but——” He paused, his eyes crossing the field speculatively and fixing themselves on the spot where the stranger had posted himself during the game. The stranger had disap- peared. “But ,what?” asked Frank. “Well, Chip,” continued Horton, “That game was called off, “that was a pretty . good catch that outsider made, don’t you think?” “It was a corker!” “Maybe that was a fluke, too,” suggested Clancy. “What did the fellow want to butt in for? He appears to know thé game, and that move of his is something I can’t understand.” “What I am thinking is this,’ said Horton: “If we could find that fellow, we might give him a try-out on the team. He'd give us our ninth player for the game with the Pirates.” “Do we want to play that outfit?” fully. “Lattimer will make his brags that we’re afraid of his I'd like to start off Merriwell’s Ath- letes by cleaning up on the Lattimer crowd. Do you suppose you could trail that stranger down, Chip?” “It won't be necessary, Rufus,” Merry answered, catch- ing sight of a figure approaching around the end of the grand stand. “Here he is now.” N All three turned in the direction of the advancing form. The stranger was a youth of seventeen or eighteen, tall, lanky, and stoop-shouldered. He had a hooked nose and a pointed chin, and his eyes were small, black, and keen. His clothes hung all over him, and were so threadbare that they suggested that their wearer had seen more pros- perous days. “Rufus Horton?” inquired the stranger, his black eyes on Rufus as he drew close and came to a halt. “My name,” returned Horton crisply. The black orbs swerved to Frank. ° “Chip Merriwell?” went on the stranger. “Bull’s-eye, first crack,” answered Merry, with a smile. “And you,” proceeded the stranger, directing his atten- tion at the red-headed chap, “are Owen ‘Claney: 7. “Surest thing you know !” / “Well,” and the lanky youth drew a long breath, “you’ re just the crowd I’m looking for. Got all the fellows you — need for that amateur squad?” “We need all the good men we can get,” said Horton. “T butted into your game just to give you a sample of All the while I was roosting. on that fence I was waiting for a chance. Finally it came my ~ way and I grabbed it. Was the ates Oo RK? said Clancy doubt- . NEW answered Frank cautiously. “Pretty fair,” “Well, then, if you need an outfielder why not give me a trial?” “Ever play on a paid dean?! “Hardly. I’ve been careful not to get in the ‘pro’ ranks. My last game was with the Frisco Favorites, and we played a soldier nine at the Presidio. I understand you're to go against Lattimer’s Pirates next Saturday. I'd give a lot to be in that match.” “Why?” asked Horton. The stranger showed his teeth in something that might have been a smile or a snarl, “Oh, well, just because,” he answered indefinitely. “What's your name?” continued Horton. “Glory, John Glory.” “Any relation to Old Glory?” put in Clancy, with a grin, The other took off his hat reverently.. “I reckon I ought to be,” he answered earnestly. “My father was killed in Cuba, my grandfather died at Look- out Mountain, and my great-grandfather was wiped out with Crockett in the Alamo.” A hush fell over, the three who were listening. That thin, homely face of John Glory’s fairly radiated patriot- ism as he stood, hat in hand, telling of his ancestors, “T guess you're all right, John Glory,” said Clancy, first — to break the silence. “That’s a record to be proud of!” declared Frank, Horton nodded. “Where are you from, Glory?” he asked. “From a little town in Texas called McGlory,” answer. “Glory, of McGlory,” chirped Clancy. “With a name like that, John, and a‘ fine old family tree, you ought to ‘ cover yourself with glory.” “Well, I don’t know,” mused the other, slowly replac- ing his hat on his head. “There don’t seem to be any war starting that I can get into, and if I ever cover myself with glory, I reckon it will have to be on the diamond. - Do you want me, or not?” Horton looked at Merry, and then at Clancy. Both boys nodded. “We want you, Glory,” was the said Hotton. “Well give you a try-out in the game with the Pirates, on the understand- ing that, if you make good, you’re to promise to stay with Merriwell’s Athletes during the summer.” A look of exultation crossed the thin face and the black eyes glimmered happily. 4 “T'll sign a contract to that effect, if you say 80,’ John Glory) “Your word's enough.” “Then you’ve got it. There are only two days between now and Saturday. When do you want me to show up for practice?”, veka “Here,” said Merry, o'clock.” | . “Count on me,” said Glory, and turned and made his way briskly back around the end of the grand stand. ” said “to-morrow afternoon at three “Talk about’ luck!” murmured Rufus Horton, greatly | p! leased. time.” , : ik hope he’s all - claims to: | te remarked Clancy. “I'd hate to have him turn out another. Chet Brezee.” att Brezee was the fellow’ who had ostensibly joined the hg Athletes while oS under contract to the Pirates. Bre- “This John Glory eae in at just the right \ Brezee. know about that. ‘pard of the fellow, but that’s what happened. That's ‘on joining the Athletes, so he’d hardly lie about the fel: ae baer VE A zee was a spy and a trouble-maker, and Lattimer’s right- hand man and assistant schemer. At that. moment, Pennyworth came up from the direc- tion of the Blyfield gym. “What did that coyote want?” asked Penn, nodding his head toward the point where Glory had disappeared. “Wanted to join the Athletes,” Frank answered. “That’s what I thought. I hope you told him mafiana and bid him good day?” /? “Why?” , # b “Because,” answered Penn deliberately, “he’s a fake © 9 and a four-flusher. He doesn’t want to join our crowd for anything good. He’s got his eye on the main chance, and he's for helping himself at the expense of anything and everything that’s straight and square. That’s right,” and Penn’s vyes flashed with indignation and: anger. fl 1a e ‘An CHAPTER III. PENN’S DISTRUST. Pennyworth’s temper was easily fanned in a blaze, and he was as obstinate as a mule in standing by his opin- ions. .What he just said had naturally created a ai un-— pleasant situation. “What do you really know about John Glory, Penny- worth?” asked Horton. “Who's John Glory?” returned Penn. “Fes the fellow who jumped into the game and caught that ball—the lad who just left here,” Penn’s upper lip curled. : “So that’s what he’s calling himself now, eh?” he ob- » served sarcastically. . un “Isn't it his right name?” “Not if my information is correct,” / “Where did you get your information from?” “From Chet Brezee.” ; Merriwell laughed, Clancy grunted Horton’s face visibly cleared. “T don’t think, Penn,” said Horton, “that you can place any dependence on any information you secured from That chap hasn’t any principles worth mention- 7} disgustedly, and ing.” ; “T should say not!” exclaimed Clancy. “He lied to you, — Rufus; and, if he did that, it’s. a.cinch he’d lie to Penn | about John Glory.” But Penn was not looking at, the matter in that way. “T don’t think a whole heap of Chet Brezee myself,” _ he returned, “but I reckon he was giving it to me straight about this fellow you call John Glory. When Brezee was — in Blyfield, just before the Delmonico Hotel was burned, we—er—we were together a good deal. I reckon you sk Tt wasn’t any credit to me, making a when Brezee told me about Lee Burkett—the chap who- now calls himself Glory. Burkett was in town, and he — happened to pass the Delmonico when Brezee and T were there. Brezee pointed him out and told me about him. Bo don’t reckon Brezee had a notion Burkett was figuring ”? low. te “What did Brezee tell you, Penn? »” ‘asked Merry: “He said Burkett was over at Trawlee, and Lattimer found him, one day, going through his room at the hotel there. Speaking plain, and calling a spade a spade, Bur- kett’s a Heh. j Dates lives at oe hotel, ia know, and NEW TIP if he hadn't come to his room when he did, Burkett would have made off with something valuable.” This was startling. Originating with Brezee, however, the denunciation lost much of its weight. “What's the reason Lattimer didn’t have Glory arrested?” demanded Merriwell. oa “Brezee said that Lattimer was sorry for the young fel- | es LOM, and let him go.” ae. “Catch Lattimer doing a thing like that!” growled the a incredulous Clancy. “He’s not the sort to be» troubled with enlargement of the heart., He’s a crook himself, and if he got the chance to throw the harpoon of jus- tice into some one else, take it from me, he'd do it, too quick, Remember that, Penn. You ought to know that as well as any one.” “Well, maybe,” Penn half admitted. “Brezee said that Burkett was known to use a fictitious name whenever he thought it necessary, and that he was a great hand to play up his folks as big high.boys in the affairs of the country. I don’t think for a minute that Brezee was stringing me. notion,” “Penn,” said Horton, “I’m sorry you got all that stuff from Brezee. I don’t take any stock in it, not for a min- ute. I’m not saying it may not be true, but the chances are that you’ve got the wrong dope. Have you told any of our fellows about this?” “No,” -answered Penn; “never had any reason to tell ‘em. Shouldn’t have told you if I hadn’t seen the chap just leaving here, and if it hadn’t looked as eves you had ‘been talking with him.” _ “Then don’t let’ this go any further,” medal Horton earnestly. “We've been challenged: for another game with . the Pirates, and we're going to play them Saturday: As you. know, some of our prospective amateurs haven't reached Blyfield, as yet, and our nine is a player short. l’ye just arranged to give Glory a try-out. He'll join E us at practice to-morrow and next day, and then he'll go up against the Pirates with the rest of our crowd.” _y Pennyworth stared. Merriwell was afraid, for a mo- ment, that he would decline to play with Glory. But his fears were groundless. “Well, Horton,” said Penn, “you and Chip have. the -say-so, and it’s none of my affair if Burkett has pulled the wool over your eyes, I ‘reckon this crowd of crack amateurs are respectable chaps, and if you let a fellow in that turns out to be a crook, I reckon the w hole team is going to suffer for it.” “Tf Glory is a crook,” remarked Frank quietly, find it out before he does any harm. For the present, _ though, Penn, let’s give him the benefit of*the doubt. If he isn’t desirable material we can get rid of him; . you didn’t let Brezee influence you against him,” “\ _ *Right-o,” agreed Penn readily. “When I get a notion, though, it sticks to me. I-can’t help how I feel, I hope have my doubts: Anyhow, I reckon he's a ball player. Wy keep mum and let things drift.” ; Penn joined Rodno and Dill, who were just passing, and walked off with them. ‘Clancy heaved a sight of relief. Doesn't it beat the deuce,” said he, “how something will turn up to put crimps in what you. fondly consider is a of good luck? We had no sooner taken on Glory, TOE Burkeit’s a good fellow to let alone, to my , -him vat I tink.” “we'll if he. proves to be a good fellow and all right, you’ ‘ll be glad~ - Burkett, or Glory as you call him, makes good, but I “Ain't it, Hop?” Claney, laughing, “hut I guess their troubles won't amount | along comes Penn with a lot of Brezee’ s hot air on Chip.” Me lee Tera Ran Gea ad WEEKLY. 3 5 tap, trying to make our good thing look like a false alarm. I thought for one spell that Penn would kick over the traces, but he acted pretty white.” “Such talk, coming from Penn, even though the original source is mighty unreliable,” said Horton, “is confoundedly unsettling. Now, in spite of fate, all three 6f us will have. a sneaking suspicion that John Glory is not on the square.” “Suspicion won't bother me any,” said Frank serencly. “I’ve got faith in John Glory,” “He’s a stranger, for all that, Chip,’ frowned Clancy. + “If we knew the first thing about him, the case would be different.” “There it is, Chip,” observed Horton, with a faint smile. “The distrust is cropping out.” *But,” Clancy added hastily, “I’m hoping for the best.” “That’s what we’re all hoping for. Well,” and the Yale man turned toward the gate leading into the field, “I won't uf keep you lads from the gym. Take your plunge, I'll wait 3 for you, atid you can get aboard my car and I'll set you down at the Borden House.” Nearly all-the fellows had got through and gone by the time Merry and Clancy reached the gymnasium building. Hop Wah and Villum Kess still lingered, and they were having it hot and heavy: “Pitch!” Villum was saying, in his most aggravating manner. “By Chiminy grickeds, you couldn't pitch at a E parn mit a doughnut. Mit my eyes shut, yes, I could en # bedder as you, so hellup me.” ‘ a “Dutchy got plenty lip,” retorted Hop. Wah. “Him allee ; sathee bag of wind.” “Pooty soon, py-m-py, you get my madt oop, und den somedings vill habben mit me. I’m der feller vat makes home runs off your pitching,” crowed een: “You don’d vas some goot at all.” / ae jee Klismus,” clamored Hop, doubling up his fists, “my makee you lock allee samee sy cent! My bleakee Dutch boy’s face!” At this interesting moment, Frank and Owen arrived — at the place where the argument was going forward. Vil- lum and Hop immediately dropped their hostile attitude. Well they knew that Merry would not put up with any bickering. “What's the trouble here?” asked Frank. “Hop iss der finest pitcher vat 1 know!” exclaimed Vil-. lum, with a broad, bland smile, “I chust been telling “se Bo cab nae Sh oy “Villum makee home lun!” cried Hop enthusiastically. “My givee congratulation on makeee home Jun.” “Your congrartiations sounded a bit savage, Hop,” eid Frank dryly. “Why did you double up your fists?” Hop had, no excuse handy, and looked very sche de- pressed, 3 “Tl. think, Villum,” went on Frank’ sternly, at you were trying to start a row. You know what will happen if you and Hop are not on friendly terms.” protested Villum. “Ve been so friendly as anyding,” “Allee samee,” replied Hop loyally, As though to prove to Frank that he was mistaken, the Dutch boy and the Chinaman hooked arms and went out of the gym like a couple of brothers, “They're about as friendly as Kilkenny cats,” ty? ‘astdis to anything serious so rons, 2 as you take the stand you do, “They’re Hop “Their squabbles are a joke,” returned Merry. only enemies on the quiet for the fun of the thing. sure can play the national game!” “That’s no dream.” “And so can Villum.” “Not so you can notice it, Chip,” naturedly but firmly. After they had had their Sac wierts followed by a brisk rubdown, and had got into their clothes, they went out and climbed into Horton’s car. “T’ve heard something while I was waiting for you,” remarked Horton. “Important?” queried Frank. “In a way, yes. Lattimér’s in town.” “Out to do some more crooked work, I’ll bet,” muttered Clancy. . “Perhaps not.. He has gone up to my house, they say, to see me. Very likely he thinks he’ll have to argue some in- order to get us to play the game Saturday. I feel pretty sure that he has come over here to get a reply to that challenge.” y “Tt won’t take him long to get that,” said Frank. “Possibly Lattimer thinks we'll have to play with a crippled team,” commented Clancy, “and that the Pirates will stand a show to win.” 3 “The Pirates will give us a run for our money,” an; swered Horton, “but they're not going to walk away with that game. Eh, Chip?” / “Not if we know it,” Frank replied. Horton, a little later, halted at the curb in front of the Borden House. “Lattimer is staying here while he’s in town,” he said to Frank, in ‘a low tone. “It might not.be a bad idea to keep an eyé on him, Chip.” “T’l]1 do that, Rufus,” said Frank. The next moment he and Owen passed into the hotel. CHAPTER IV. LATTIMER’S LUGGAGE. John Glory was waiting in the hotel office for Frank to come. As soon as Merry entered the door, Glory got up and advanced toward him. oe “Here’s where Merriwell’s Athletes hang out, isn’t it?” the new recruit asked. “Ves,” said Frank. “You didn’t say, Merriwell, but I reckon I’m to herd -with the bunch?” “Certainly, Glory. I supposed that was understood.” “I took it that way, but the clerk here allows you'll have to tell him.” All the amateur athletes, with the exception Af Cod- dington, were quartered at the Borden House. Rufus Horton, who had first conceived the idea of a crowd of crack amateurs to tour the West, was financing the un- dertaking, and from the moment a lad joined the squad his expenses were taken care of. “This way, Glory,” said Frank. They moved over to the desk. “Edwards,” went on Frank to the clerk, “this is John, Glory, who has just joined our team. Make him com- fortable, will you? Mr. Horton will look after the other end of it.” “Sure. ei Merry,” ahead ies ‘Whatever you é NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY. said Clancy good- , man,’ _ went out on the porch and dropped into a chair. say goes. Glad to know you, Glory. You’re one of a° live bunch, and no mistake. Any baggage?” “I’ve a grip at—-er—a place here in town,” said Glory. “T’ll bring it over after supper. Just reserve a room for me, and some time this evening I’ll move in.” | “Correct.” Edwards handed Glory a pen and pushed the register in front of him, While the new man was writing his name, | the clerk leaned across the counter and spoke in a low tone to Merry. “Lucius Lattimer has hit. the camp, Chip!” “Heard that a little while ago. He’s staying here?” “No Delmonico for him, to go to, so he had to come here. Room nineteen—I took up his grip half an hour | ago. Bad egg, that chap. He’s got a knife out for the | Athletes.” “That’s all the good it will do him,” said Frank. He straightened up, and turned to Glory. “Come on, old — > he added, “I want you to meet some of the fel- iy on lows.” Pennyworth, Rodno, and Dill were in the office. Merry introduced Glory to them, and was glad to see that Penn shook hands heartily, and seemed to cherish no resent- ment on account of what he had heard from Brezee. Then, leaving Glory to talk with his teammates, Frank When the clerk had mentioned Lattimer’s name, Glory, — who was signing the register, had given a perceptible start. The outfielder had not looked around, and had quickly collected himself, but the fact remained that, men- tion of Lattimer had made a disagreeable impression on him. There must have been something in common betwee | Lattimer and Glory. Was it possible that Brezee, after all, had tdéld the truth to Penn? : “Thunder!” muttered: Frank, reproaching himself. “TI thought I was-the one who believed in Glory, and here my suspicions are already beginning to get in their work. The fellow’s all right, I’m sure, and why the deuce am I thinking these things? Ill forget it.” an He tried to forget it, but with indifferent. success. H would be half an hour or more before the supper bell. © rang, and he had made up his mind to wait on the porch. He had not been there for more than ten minutes, how- ‘ever, when Penn came slouching déut of the hotel, peered around expectantly, and made for the place where Frank was sitting. There was a grim look on the cowboy’s face. Halting ~ close to Frank’s side, he bent down to whisper: Fe “I opine Brezee had it straight, Chip.” e “About Glory?” asked Frank, sitting up. — ~. “Yes.” “What ‘makes “you think that?” Re “Something’s just happened—is happening now, by gorry !—that sort of cinches the proposition.” o Frank straightened in his chair. His keen eyes ae Penn’s face. 3 “What’s happening, Penn?” he Senate “Come | across | with it.” “Burkett—or Glory, as oad call him—palavered with us in the office for a minute or two and then slipped away. © I was keeping an eye on him, and he coutdn’t lose me. He stepped into the hall and went quietly upstairs. Thought he acted blamed queer, so’ I followed ita eee, } ; “ \ ; ‘ ‘ Pat ory. for me, low it bell ‘ch, é w- red ank ing. oss Us PAY ei: 38.3 Skis gate.” “Lattimer is putting up at this place, and has room nineteen. While Glory and the rest of us were talking in the office, it came out that Lattimer was away for a powwow with Horton.” “What's that got to do with Glory's going upstairs?” “A heap. I saw Glory make straight for the door of nineteen, open it with a skeleton key, and go inside. That’s where he is now. Begins to look as though, when he learned Lattimer wasn’t in the room, Glory thought it a good time to pay the room a visit, eh?”) Frank was thunderstruck. “I’m darned sorry the fellow’s panning out like this, Chip,” went on Penn. “I’d a whole lot rather see him turn out square than crooked. I reckon, though, that Brezee wasn’t lying to me. What do you think about it?” Frank, stern and determined, had started to his feet. For a moment he stood revolving the ugly situation in his mind; then, putting out a hand, he caught Penn by the arm. “Does any one else know about this, Penn?” he asked. “Not a soul. You're the only one I have told.” “Then you and I will get to the bottom of the busi- ness. If Glory is a thief, he'll get off the team as quick as he got on. This way, Penn! We'll begin to investi- Merry did not enter the office, but led the way Voward an outside door that communicated with the front hall and stairway. Had he and Penn trailed through the © office some of the fellows would have seen them, and might have wondered what they were up to. The surest ' way to avoid arousing suspicions was to get to the stair- way by the outside door. Entering the hall, the two lads rapidly ascended the . stairs.. Proceeding .carefully, they came at last to the door of No. 19. Here Merry bent his head and Hstened. He thought he heard some one moving cautiously around in the room. Not as sfire of this as he felt he ought to be, he looked at Penn and laid a finger on his lips, then went down the hall and brought a chair, Placing the chair in front of the door, he climbed up on it and looked through the transom. With a feeling of sadness and a " profound sense of disappoihtment he peered into Lattimer’s room and saw John Glory. A satchel lay open ov the bed, and in front of it stood Glory. With quick, nervous hands the lad was examining the satchel’s contents. Merry stepped quietly down from the chair. For a moment he leaned against the wall, wondering what he had better do.” “You saw him?” whispered Penn. - Merry nodded. ~ “What was he doing?” “Going through Lattimer’s katebsel Y “The sneaking hound! Talk about nerve! What's to po be done, Chip? Walk in on him?” “Chances are we can’t walk in on him. He’d be care- - ful to lock the door on the inside, so as not to let Lat- timer come in ynexpectedly and catch him at what he’s doing. That skeleton key of his must be in the lock on the inside of the door.” | “What in blazes does he expect to do if Lattimer ; ‘ comes? He can't keep Lattimer out of his room, can he?” i is » “Hardly.” o “What move would he make, then? If he heard us at Merriwell was silent and reserved. Pennyworth tried so d , 2 ze . : a3 NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY the door, Chip, he’d think it was Lattimer, and he’d have to open up and let us in.” “We'll try it, and see. While I get back on the chair and watch, you turn the knob.” Merry resumed his place at the traisom, but this time he held his head to one side so that he could look into the room without being seen by Glory. Penn put his hand on the knob, turned it, and pushed. The door, just as Frank had supposed, was locked on the inside. At the first rattling of the knob, Glory almost jumped over the bed. In an instant he collected himself, however, and turned and stared at the shaking door. Once more Penn shook the knob. Glory, evidently having. made up his mind as to what he should do, turned to the bed again and began replacing the articles re- moved from the satchel. He did this quickly, and as quickly closed the satchel and set it on the floor. After that, he moved toward the door. Frank thought, for a moment, that he was about to turn the key and pull the door open. But this is not what happened. The skeleton key remained in the lock. Glory pulled it out, dropped it into his pocket, and in six steps gained an open window. This window was in the side wall of the hotel building. Swiftly and noiselessly Glory climbed through the window, hung by his hands from the sill, and then dropped, Frank stepped down from the chair ex- citedly, “Well, Vl be hanged!” he exclaimed. “He took his skeleton key out of the door and then dropped from an open window. Seems he'd rather chance a broken leg er a sprained ankle than stay where he was and face Lattimer.” “He’s got plenty of nerve, all right,” muttered Penn, “but we've got the goods on him now, sure as shooting.” Frank returried the chair to the place where ae had found it, “Looks that way,” he admitted, coming back to Bead: “put let’s not be in a rush jumping on the fellow when he’s down. Before we say a word about this, Penn, let’s have a talk with Glory and hear what he has to way for himself.” “That’s only fair,” returned Penn. “Maybe he’s ibe under that window with a broken leg. Suppose we find out?” This, however, did not prove to be ‘hi case, If Gioby had suffered at all from his drop to the ground, he did not show it. He was in the office, when Merry and Penn got downstairs, and was as calm and unruffled as though | he had not just come within one of oune