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NEW YORK, June 7, 1913.

Frank Merriwell, Junior’s, Athletes;
Or, THE ROUND-UP AT BLYFIELD.

By BURT L. STANDISH.

CHAPTER W.
A BIT OF A ROW.

“Look here! What’ve you got your hand in my pocket
for?” .

“T’ve lost my pocketbook.”

“Why don’t you look in your own pocket, then?”

“I did, and it isn’t there.”

It was a very brief conversation, but it was rather
spicy. Between two young fellows of spirit and integrity,
such a scrap of talk is quite apt to lead to a “scrap” of
another sort. Thus it seemed in this particular case.

Two youngsters were occupying the same seat in a
crowded car. One was neatly and carefully dressed in
clothing of fine quality and latest cut. The other wore a
crumpled “hand-me-down” suit, and was plainly careless,
slouchy, and devil-may-care.

It was the well-dressed chap who had inserted an in-
quiring hand into his seat mate’s pocket, and the owner of
the coat that was being quietly investigated had grabbed
the hand and held it while asking his two pertinent ques-
tions.

Two pairs of eyes fenced angrily for a space. A third
young fellow, sitting behind, leaned forward with a show
of interest.

“What sort of a deal are you getting, Neil?” the third
fellow inquired of the well-dressed youth; “or giving
the flat in the cowboy hat?”

The boy who was holding Neil’s hand certainly wore a
broad-brimmed and dingy@Stetson. But it did not neces-
sarily follow that he was a “flat.”

“This doesn’t happen to be any of your put in,” he
‘snapped, tossing a hostile glance at the fellow behind.

“My name is Billy Dill—I speak up when I will and
no yap can keep me still,” chanted the queer youngster,
with an affable smile.

“Think you’re real cute, eh?” snorted the other. “My
name is Arlo Pennyworth, and I'll be dad-binged if I
could make a rhyme if I was to be hung for it. There’s
a heap more truth than poetry about me, and if this
juniper you call Neil can’t give a better excuse for
shoving his hand into my pocket, I allow I’m going to twist
his neck.”

Billy Dill cackled mirthfully.

“Pennyworth, eh?” said he. “Well, you can’t twist Neil
Rodno’s neck a cent’s worth—and there’s not much poetry
in that, either.”

Here another person butted into the festivities. He
sat in the seat directly in front of Neil Rodno and Arlo
Pennyworth, and suddenly hoisted himself to an about
face. He was young, too, and wore*a round, black silk
cap with a large red button set exactly in the center of the
crown. His cheek bones were high, his eyes were on a
slant, and he had a complexion like a pound of cheese.
But he was “the goods,” as any one who knew him at all
could have told you. ;

“No makee foolishness, Penn,” the Chinaman chattered.
“Plitty quick evelbody ketchee tlouble. My no likee.”

“Oh, fiddle-de-dee!” said Billy Dill, “it’s a heathen Chi-

”

nee.
“No savvy\fiddle-de-dee,” the Chinaman called gravely
across the middle seat. “Me allee samee Hop Wah.”

“Let it go at that, Hop,” growled Pennyworth. “My
honor has been stepped on by this here dude. I reckon
that calls for something real harsh.”

‘

  
      

 

 

2 NEW

 

“Let go my hand,” said Rodno sharply.
“First, what have you got to say 2?”

““T’ve told you already. My pocketbook’s missing, «I
don’t know you from Adam, and you were pushing against
mé a moment ago.”

“JT was trying to get an apple out of my hip pocket.
But you allowed I was going through your clothes .for
your wallet. Jumping sandhills! The honor of the Penny-
worths is sure nagging me on to get violent.”

“That pocketbook must be somewhere.”

“Certain it is, but that’s nothing to me
do to take care of my own personal belongings.

Neil Rodno. was athletic and possessed of plenty of
strength. With a stout heave, he tore away. the impris-
oned hand. Both lads half started from their seats, cheeks
flushed and eyes flashing.

“No makee scalp!” implored Hop Wah, scrambling out of
his place into the aisle. “Heap plenty foolishness—big
mistake. Makee look!”

He stooped down beside Rodno, and when he straight-
ened erect he held the missing pocketbook in his yellow
fingers. Rodno stared.

“You dloppee moneybag,” chuckled the Chinaman; smil-
ing blandly. “Now you takee, Lodno, and makee say ‘Ex-
cuse’ to Penn. Velly fine pidgin—evelbody happy. Hey?”

Neil. Rodno took his lost property rather sheepishly. He
had been precipitate, but he was fair and honorable and
was showing the right spirit. f

“Well, forevermore!” murmured Billy: Dill, “it was on
the floor. You lost it out without a doubt, so the row’s
a mistake; -now quit it and shake.”

It’s all: 1‘ can

ri

Pennyworth,” said Rodtio, with an em-
“[’m sorry I suspeeted you. But what
was [| to think? You had shoved against me, and right
after that I missed the purse. I was in too much of a
hurry. How about it?” and he held out his hand.

“That’s right,
barrassed laugh.

Pennyworth, however, would not meet him halfway. The
Chinaman’s face grew anxious as he watched his friend’s
growing animosity.

“That don’t settle the score,” grunted Pennyworth, strik-
ing the hand away viciously. “You can’t. accuse me of
being a thief .and then smooth: it over with a few words
and.a handshake. I come from the range, I do, and when
one fellow treats another as you do me, there are ructions.”

Neil Rodno’s face lost some of its good nature.

“Well,” said he, “I’ve tried to do everything possible
to. satisfy your injured feelings. As for getting down on
my knees, I'll be hanged if I do that.”

“T dont want. you down on your knees,” came swiftly
from-the other. tf want you on your feet, just about like
you are now,”

Then, quick as lightning, his fist shot out. But Rodno
was equally quick. His left arm flew up in a neat counter.
An opening was left of which he could easily have taken
advantage, but tte did not. He had a feeling that Penny-
worth was the injured party, and that when his temper
cooled he would see things differently. Meantime, the
fewer blows Rod gave him the less he would have to for-
get.

“Oh, hoop-a-la!” wailed the Chinaman, tos$ing his hands.
“No fightee—please !”

“Say, Penn,” cried Billy Dill, “this is no place——”

But Pennyworth was beyond reason. The way his blow
had been countered was a spur to his temper. (Without

eet oh Gar

imagined,” said he.

  

 

 

    

 

WEEKLY.

 

more ado, he hurled himself against Rodno and the two
crumpled-up in the narrow aisle between the seats.

The car was crowded with passengers. In fact, the
fast train had been obliged to take on an extra coach
at Monterey in order to accommodate the traveling public.

Women screamed, men started up excitedly, and the con-
ductor came hurriedly from the front end of the car.

“What sort of a riot is going on here?” the conductor
demanded. “Stop that rough-house, you two. What do
you think this is—a prize ring?”

The trainman would have forcibly separated the com-
batants had not Billy Dill and Hop Wah saved him the
trouble. The Chinaman, displaying a tremendous amount
of strength, bent over Pennyworth and lifted him forcibly
from the prostrate form of Rodno.

Rodno, by then, was as eager to carry: on the fray as
was Pennyworth, and Dill had his harlds full holding him
in check. In the midst of the excitement, the car door
opened and a brakeman thrust in his head. “Blyfield!” he
called.

Blyfield was the station at which the “flyer” was about to
stop. The brakeman’s announcement had a pronounced
and quieting effect upon the would-be combatants.

“Plitty soon we leach Blyfield, Penn,” said Hop Wah.
“You no makee fight ally mo’. We makee get off at
Blyfield, you savvy?”

“Anyways,” growled Pennyworth, stepping in between
the seats and taking a satchel from the rack, “I’d like to
trim that juniper before I leave this train. If I éver run
across him again he can gamble on having the time of. his
life. Thought I was a thief, huh? Just the notion makes
me hot all over.”

“Makee cool off, Peng,” urged the Chinaman, picking up
Rodno’s suit case and handing it to him. “My velly solly
you kickee up such a low. What Melliwell say, huh?
What Lufus Ho’ton say? My no likee.

“You going to get off at Blyfield?” asked Rodno of.

Hop Wah.

“Allee samee.”

“That's where we're getting off. Just tell your fire-
eating friend that he can have more of this whenever he
gets good and ready. If he’s eager to find me, just tell

him to hunt up Chip Merriwell and inquire for Neil

Rodno.”

Hop Wah seemed stunned.

“You savvy Chip Melliwell?” he asked. ee

Well, I guess yes. He’s a mighty good friend of
mine,”

“Him my, fliend, too. My one of clack muscle men,
Lufus Ho’ton. makee lound-up.”

“What!” cried Rodno and Dill, in one breath. “You

mean to say sr you are one of that crack amateur

squad that is getting together in Blyfield?” added Rodno.
“Allee samee,” and the Chinaman straightened his’ shoul-
ders proudly. ‘

Rodno and Dill exchanged wondering glances. Then
Hop Wah dropped another bomb.
“Penn, he allee samee one of clack muscle men,” he a

marked.

“Well, by thunder!” exclaimed ‘Dill, too much wrought -
“What do you think of ARG 12"

up to indulge in rhymes.
Roa?) °
Rodno’s brow had clouded. ~ vane
“This row is liable to turn out a lot worse hah I

 

a

“T feel-as though I’ve got to have

       

 

 

 

 

 

   
   
 
    
 
  
  
   
   
   
 

    
 

 
 

         
 

 

Pennyworth’s scalp, and I can’t see much harmony for
the two of us on that amateur team.”

“You one of that amateur bunch?” demanded Penny-
worth, glaring at Rodno.

“That’s about the size of ‘it,” was the answer.

“Then I reckon I'll just about stop long enough in
Blyfield to square up with you and to hand Merriwell
my resignation,” was the grim response.

The train had halted. Rodno and Dill preceded Penny-
worth and Hop Wah out of the ‘car.

“Here’s a how-de-do, and no mistake
Rodno, vastly troubled.

?

exclaimed Neil

CHAPTER II.
A LOVER OF SPORTS,

Rufus Horton, tall, slender, alertly built, and with threads
of gray in his dark hair, sat at a desk in his library.
He paused occasionally in his talk with young Frank
Merriwell and Owen Clancy to make a memorandum on
the paper before him.

Horton was a Yale man. In college days he had known
intimately the elder Frank Merriwell and had been one
of his greatest admirers. Deeply rooted in Horton’s
soul was an abiding faith in the power of clean sport—
sports of the track and field—to develop the highest
ideals of manliness in young America. Then, too, quite
apart from this and for its own sake, Horton loved the
contests of diamond and gridiron, the competitions of the
cinder path, the keen, close rivalries of the broad jump, the
pole vault, the weight throwing, and every department
of athletics in which speed and skill and brawn struggled
for the mastery.

A man of wealth, Horton was proving his deep interest
in sport by financing the work which, some weeks before,
he had handed over to Merriwell and Clancy. This work
consisted in securing a number of crack amateur athletes
for a summer tour of the West, a tour during which the
roving team would meet other amateurs anywhere and
everywhere, contesting with them in all branches of ath-
letics, but giving particular attention to the great national
game.

Horton’s initial plans had been made with Clancy. The
red-headed chap was in. Blyfield, and Merry was linger-
ing in Juneau and helpthg the. Rodno Athletic Club out
of certain difficulties. Clancy had accepted Horton’s com-
missions enthusiastically, not only for himself, but for
his chum, Chip Merriwell. Clancy’s promises were con-
tingent, only upon permission from Bloomfield, and Hor-
ton had promised to write Merriwell, senior, in the matter.

Clancy, hunting material for the prospective team, had
gone to meet Merriwell. After some vicissitudes they had
come together, and then, side by side, they had encountered
further adventures that had delayed their return to Bly-
field. Two days previously to this present interview with
Horton they had reached the town, and Frank had then
met the enterprising Yale man for the first time.

Horton had asked the boys to send some telegrams, and
had sent a few himself, and he had then appointed the
time and place for a long talk regarding the amateurs
and the summer’s work ahead of them. This was the in-
terview which was now going forward in Horton’s library.
_ From the first moment he had set eyes on Horton,
-Merriwell had liked him. Something of his father’s ability
to read character had developed in young Frank, and he

 

NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY. 3

realized almost instinctively that the Yale man was clean
and square and filled with a great ambition for amateur
athletics.

This liking was mutual, for in Frank the Yale. man
found a genuine chip of the old block, one who would fol-
low the highly creditable trail which his father had blazed
to glory and renown. And in part the admiration which
Horton had felt for Frank the elder was now bestowed
upon the last bearer of the honored name.

Horton’s house stood on an elevation, overlooking in
one direction the railroad station and a broad sweep of
picturesque country beyond, and in the other direction
giving a view of the broad river which had been, for
Frank, the scene of so many exciting experiences.

“You boys are to be congratulated on the work you
have done in getting together Merriwell’s athletes,’ ob-
served Horton.

“Merriwell’s athletes?” echoed Frank.

“Exactly,” said the Yale man, with a-smile. “That is
what I want our squad called, not Horton’s Amateurs.
You are to captain the crowd, Chip, and the very name
of Merriwell will add a luster to the outfit and should make
the team invincible.”

“Bully!” cried Owen.

“That is mighty nice of you, Rufus,” said Frank, flush-
ing with pleasure. “Red and-I will do everything we can
to make the crowd a credit to you, and—and to the name of
Merriwell. When I say that,” he finished hastily, “I’m
thinking of dad and Uncle Dick.”

“All right,” and Horton laughed genially, “think as you
will, Chip. Now, I understand that. you have been able
to secure the young Chinaman, Hop Wah, who did some
remarkable work for the Y. M. €. A. fellows. And you
have been able to test the Chinaman, and have found him
personally to be the goods.”

“He’s a wonder!” declared Frank enthusiastically.

“You got off the telegram to him?”

“Yes, and he ought to reach Blyfield on the afternoon
train.” oe

“Good! You don’t think”—and here a shadow of mis-
giving crossed Horton’s face—‘“that any of our fellows
will object to having a chink for a teammate?”

“They might object to some Chinamen,” answered Frank,
“but after they know Hop they’ll be glad to be friends of
his.” .

“That’s fine,” said Horton, with a show of relief. “You
could not secure Ernest Raynor,” he went on, “the crack
amateur of that Denver club?”

“T have told you about Raynor,” answered Frank. “He
may join the squad later, but it is somewhat uncertain.”

“I see. From Juneau come this Neil Rodno and Billy |
Dill—two lads of your own selection. They’re all right,
I’m sure, if you have selected them. You wired them
to come?”

Frank nodded. “They ought to get here on the same
train that brings Hop Wah,” said he.

“Who is there here at the Blyfield Academy that you
want?”

“There are several we want,” put in Clancy, “but only
one we can get. Coddington is footloose for the sum-
mer, and fel] all over himself to accept when I offered
him a place.”

“We may get the quarter-blood, Jock Belize,” went on
Frank. “He has a. stiffened arm and couldn’t help on the

 

  

  
   

 

 

4 NEW TIP
ball team, but he’s a reniarkable sprinter. If matters shape
around right, Belize will be with us.”

“How about this Dutch variegated clothes?”
Horton smothered a laugh as he asked the question.

Merry and Clancy joined in the laugh.

“We had to take him because we couldn’t shake him,” ex-
plained Clancy: “He says he can forget more in a year
about athletics than some other fellows know in a minute.
a punching bag around with him and every

boy in the

He carries
time the clock strikes he does a little exercising.”

“But is he any good as an athlete?”

“T don’t think so,” said Clancy, “he’s too fat. “To hear
him tell it, though, you’d think he invented athletics.”

“We don’t really what there is to Villum Kess,”
spoke up Frank guardedly. “You can’t always tell from
the looks of a frog just how far he’ll jump. He may
be able to throw the hammer or put the shot or smash out
a three-bagger, but appearances are against: him when it
comes to running bases. There’s just one thing he wants
in this world, though, and that is to get on our team.
He’s a clever chap, Clancy knows that, and if he. isn’t
good for anything else he ought to make a good mas-
cot.”

Tf you want him, Chip, you shall have him, but,’ and
here Horton looked troubled, “we're shy of men for the
squad. I have secured two, and am in correspondence

with others, but I’m mighty anxious to round up a good
working nine for a game here on Saturday afternoon.”

“Game?” cried Merry and Clancy, in one breath.

Horton smiled.

“Pretty early to think of a game day after to-morrow,
eh?” said he. “I know what you fellows are think-
ing, and that is that the nine can be rounded up, but that
there will be no time for practice and licking them into
shape. Never mind that. We’l! orobably lose the game—
I don’t see how we can: possibly win—but we'll know
exactly what sort of material we have collected when we
see the squad down to business. I’ll tell you about this
prospective game later, and\then you'll know why I had
those telegrams sent. Just now, it’s the line-up with our
present crowd that concerns us. If all come, and I think
they will, we can depend upon the following amateurs.”

Here Horton read from the list before him:

“Chip Merriwell, Owen Clancy, Hop Wah, Neil Rodno,

‘ Billy Dill, Villum Kess, Norris Coddington, Arlo Penny-
worth, and Chester Brezee. Nine,’ Horton added, “count
‘em, And we're figuring in this Villum Kess, whose ath-
letic abilities seem to be rather doubtful.”

“Who's Pennyworth?” asked Frank. “And Brezee?”

“Pick-up of mine. Hop Wah, after you had engaged
him, wrote to me about Pennyworth. He’s a young cow-
boy, if I get it right, and Hop Wah as good as says he
can catch anything from the mumps to a ee star
backstop.”

Frank looked dubious.

“Hop is pretty level-headed,” he remarked, “and if he
says that about Pennyworth, I guess he otight to know.”

“Pennyworth will have to make good,” growled Clancy.

“The whole bunch will have to make good,” said Frank.
“Perhaps this Saturday game will be all to the mustard,
after all. Who is Brezee?”

“Ll get down to him later, when I tell yout about our

opponents for next Saturday. Before we go any further,”

went on Horton, suddenly changing the subject, “I guess

know

 

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' athletes he might be able to profit by it.”

 

   

 

   
    

WEEKLY.
I’d better read an extract from a letter that may interest
you, Chip.”

He reached forward and took a letter from a-pigeonhole
of his desk. Drawing the inclosed sheet from the en-
velope, he leaned back and began to read:

“Your plans for the summer, Rufus, rather appeal to
me. Frank, I feel sure, will be delighted with them, and
I see no reason why he should not captain this roving team
of amateurs for a tour of the West during the summer.
It will be an outing for the youngster, and about the
last outing he will have before entering Fardale Academy
this fall.”

Horton fixed his kindly gaze on Frank as he refolded the
letter.

“How does that suit you, Chip?” he asked.

“Right up to the handle!” declared Frank, glowing with
happiness.

“No more than I expected,” asserted Clancy. “Chip’s
father wouldn’t call him home when there is such a good
chance as we've got ahead of us.”

“T am fully as pleased over this
father as you lads can possibly be,” said Horton. “I'm
looking forward to a great summer. There’s nothing like
clean sport to put ginger into a fellow and make him
fit to carry on all the important affairs of life. But,”
and here Horton’s face became grave, “it is not going
to be a picnic excursion entirely. We must expect to
brush up against all sorts of difficulties, and it is the
way we tneet and’ vanquish these that is going to count.
Our first difficulty, as it happens, will be met right here
at Blyfield, while the team is being rounded up and put
into shape. That’s a point which we will now consider.”

letter of Frank’s

CHAPTER III.
CONCERNING LATTIMER’S PIRATES.

Horton, settled back comfortably in his chair and peered
reflectively out of the window beside him. Presently he
withdrew his gaze and whirled his chair around so that
he was brought more directly face to face with the two
chums. |

“There is one fellow,” he observed, “who would like
nothing better than to knock dur amateur team higher
thdn Gilderoy’s kite. His name is Lucius Lattimer. He
is a lover of sports—or claims to be—but heretofore
horse-racing ‘and prize fighting have been his specialties.

Perhaps it was a coincidence that Lattimer made up his |

mind to organize a team of amateurs similar to ours;

from what I know of the fellow, though, [’m inclined .

to believe that he merely copied my idea—and he’s the
sort to use his athletes for a money-making proposition. —

“Lattimer’s motives need not be discussed now. The

point is here: Some of the amateurs I wanted to get hold

of he has secured; and some that he wanted have pledged —

themselves to me. Pennyworth happens to be one of the
fellows Lattimer was after, and we only got him because
Hop Wah helped us. Chester Brezee is another that Lat-
timer missed. I happen to know that he had his eye on
you, Chip, and that after he learned you were on my
side he did not approach you.

them—and if he could cause dissatisfaction among Our

Lattimer would give a 9 :
good deal to get hold of our fellows—or, at least, some of —

   

   

   
     
   
  
 

 

 

 

      
 
  
  
 
 
  
 

  
  

   
 
 

  

 

 
  
 
 

   
 

  
  
 
  
     
  
  
  
  
  
   

a lh a ae
ee ee

 

 

 

   
  
  
    
   
  
  
   
  
   
   
   
  
  
  
   
  

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coe

“He must be a sneak to think of trying such a dodge,”
said Frank indignantly. “Where does he come from, any-
way?”

“He’s a Trawlee man, and I’m told he has a few fel-
lows from the school over there. He calls his outfit the
Pirates, and maybe it’s a pretty good name. Lattimer has
challenged us for the game next Saturday. I don’t think
he’s particularly anxious for a game. What he wants, if
I’m any prophet, is to play hob with the round-up of our
athletes here in Blyfield. He has some scheme on, I’m
pretty sure, for disrupting our organization.”

“Thunder!” exclaimed Clancy cheerfully.
like a fight right from the start off,”

“Lattimer doesn’t seem to worry you much,” said Hor-
ton, smiling at Clancy’s heartiness.

“It doesn’t worry me, Rufus,” returned the red-headed
fellow. “There’s nothing like a good, square-up clash to
sort of jolt things down, bring out the teamwork, and show
you what you can depend on. Whether it’s a fight on the
diamond next Saturday, or another sort of a fight just
to hold our bunch together, it will amount to the same
thing. We'll find out who we can count on.”

“Clan’s right about that,” approved Frank. “If Latti-
mer is coming over here just to break up our crowd, then
the first move is to call him, and to call. him proper.
Rodno, Dill, Hop Wah, Coddington, Clan, and I will
stick—that is something you can absolutely bank on. No
matter what Lattimer does, the ones I have mentioned

“This looks

- won't break away.”

 

 

 

  

 

 

 
  

 

 

 

 

 

“You didn’t mention the Dutchman.
be loyal?”

“Loyal?” echoed Clancy, grinning. “Why, Rufus, you
couldn’t pry Villum Kess away from Chip with a crow-
bar. Merry didn’t mention Villum, I guess, because we don’t
know how much good he’s going to be. I don’t suppose
Lattimer would take that Hot Tamale on a bet. But he’s
glued to Merriwell’s Athletes, and you can play that bet to
the limit.”

“What sort of a scheme would it be, Horton,” Frank
asked, “to get all our fellows to sign an agreement saying
they'll stand by us? The moment they signed, that would
head off any skullduggery on Lattimer’s part.”

“We've got to avoid anything that looks at all profes-
sional,” Horton answered. “Our amateurs are going into

Do you think he'll

’

this for the love of the game, you know, and all I can put.

up will ‘be their expenses. They’re all self-respecting
young chaps, and I don’t like to ask them to sign any-

ia thing. Their word ought to be as good as their bond.
Tf it isn’t, our team is no place for them,”

“That’s right, too,” agreed Frank. “You haven’t told us,

yet, about this Chester Brezee.”’

“He came to Blyfield and called upon me, three or four
days ago. He had a letter from Lattimer asking him to
join the Pirates, but he told me he knew something of
‘Lattimer and hadn’t any use for him. If I wouldn't take

\ him on, though, he declared he’d join the other squad,
because he was hungry to knock around, doing athletic

stunts. I haven’t wanted to accept any ote, but to put

~ all that part of it up to you boys, You couldn't hunt up
all the material, though, and ‘so +I was forced to use my
own judgment. So I accepted Chet Brezee..

— “It just occurs to me now that this Dutch boy, Kess,
came to see me about a place on the squad. If I remem-
ber, I told him he would have to see you two.”

Frank laughed.

TOP

sell

West.

 

   
 

WEEKLY. 5

“The

 

“That sent Villum on a hard chase,” said he.
Dutchman went from here to Juneau, then from Juneau to
Hobson’s- Choice, and then from there to Frenchman’s
Fork before he overhauled us.”

“He’s a persistent sort of a chap,” observed’ Horton,

“and that ought to count-in his favor. Where is he now?”

“I sent him to the station to meet the train from the
He’s to act as a sort of reception committee, and
meet Rodno, Dill, and Hop Wah.”

“It would be as good as a circus to see Villum meet
that bunch,” said Clancy, laughing. “He’s got a way
of his own about doing things, and the way he murders
the English language is. as good as a joke book.”

“It’s nearly time for the train. now,” said Horton, flash-
ing a glance at a clock on his desk. “If you boys want
to go over to the station and meet your friends, don’t let
me detain you.”

“Villum will do the trick, Rufus,’ answered Clancy.
“He'd be mad, now, if we went over there and tried to help
him out. He’s all puffed up with the importance of the
job, and I don’t know but he has got a speech framed up
to hand to the incoming athletes. Chip and I had better
stay away from him while he’s doing the welcoming.”

“About the main thing I want to impress upon you boys,”
continued Horton, “is the nécessity of harmony and good
feeling. If we all pull together in the right kind of spirit,
we're going to have a pleasant and successful summier,
and Lattimer won't be able to injure us much.”

“That’s the ticket!” exclaimed Clancy. “We've got to
have good feeling. Chip knows how to stir that up and
keep it on tap.” :

“I guess that can be managed easy enough if we've
got the right kind of fellows,” said Frank. “One chap
with a grouch, though, can make a good deal of trouble.”

“Keep a weather eye out for squalls all the time, Chip,”
suggested Horton. “In such a crowd as Ours petty jeal-
ousies ate apt to crop up. You may have to send a fellow

who is eager to pitch to one of the bases or into the

outfield. I believe you have plenty of tact and can take
care of any situation of that sort. It’s the insignificant,
opening wedge of trouble that is apt to push deepér and
deeper and so finally pry the team apart. Look out for
that opening wedge! Be on the alert, and whenever
you see anything that looks like it take quick action.
If there’s nothing else to be done, get rid of the fellow
who is mostly concerned, no matter how good he is.
It’s better to lose one good man than to have the whole
team go to smash.”

“Sure,” said Frank.

At that moment, the sound of a distant whistle came
to those in the library.

“There comes the flyer,” announced Clancy. “Wonder
how many of Merriwell’s Athletes are aboard? It would
be a joke on Villum if none of our crowd got here.”

“It would be a pretty serious joke for the rest of ts,
too,” put in Horton. “Does Kess know the three fel-
lows he’s going to meet?”

“He never saw them,” Frank answered, “but I’ve given
him a good description of Rodno and Dill. He couldn’t
miss the Chinaman on a bet.” .

“There he goes now,” reported Horton, “hustling toward
the station for all he is worth.”

The windows of Horton’s library afforded a very good’
view of the railroad station. The house and the station
were quite a long distance apart, and Villum’s chubby form

  

  
 

  

NEW

 

could not be seen very aay but it was not hard to
identify him.

When the train drew to a halt the station hid it from
view. For some time Villum, the station loungers, and
the arriving passengers were hidden from the ae of
those at’ the library windows.

Horton took a pair of opera glasses from a drawer of
his desk and, handed them to Frank.

“If you want t& get a clear view of your incoming
friends, Chip,” said he, “those will help.”

“I'd like to make sure just who got off the train,”
said Frank, taking the glasses. “I can get a look at them
as they come out from behind the station.”

“The train’s going on,” announced Clancy. “The crowd
is a deuce of a while back of the building, strikes me.
Probably every one is enjoying Villum Kess, and the way
he is.welcoming a detachment of Merriwell’s Athletes to
Blyfield.”

“Now they’re beginning to come,”
steadily through the opera glasses. “Nearly everybody
is laughing, and Ah! there’s Neil Rodno! Jupiter,
but it does me good to see that chap again. And right
behind Rodno,is Billy Dill, or ‘Pickles,’ as the Juneau
bunch used to call him. Billy is a great chap for spouting
rhymes—he can’t be prosy for very long at a stretch.”

“See anything of the chink?” asked Clancy, straining
his eyes toward the station, but without much success.

“Now I see him, Clan!” cried Merry. “There’s a slouchy-
looking chap with him—a fellow in a cowboy hat——”

“Pennyworth, no doubt,” put in Horton.. “The Athletes
are getting a good crowd off that train, Chip,” he added,
with considerable satisfaction.

“And there’s Villum!” went on Frank. “He acts as
though he was excited. He’s running around in front of
Hop Wah and blocking his path. Evidently Hop Wah
doesn’t know what to make of it. Villum is talking, and
—— Thunder!” ‘Frank suddenly laid aside the glasses and
started for the door.

“What’s the trouble, Chip?” queried the surprised Clancy.

“Hop Wah handed Villum a hot one with his bare
knuckles!” was the answer. “What the mischief is the
matter? Here’s a nice way for the bunch to act—starting
something the minute they get off the train. Come on,
Red! We've got to straighten this out in a hurry.”

Merry rushed from the room. Clancy, smothering a
laugh, tossed a quieting remark at Rufus Horton and
dashed after his excited and anxious chum.

 

CHAPTER IV.
THE “RECEPTION COMMITTEE.”

Villum Kess, the Dutch boy who had been christened
the “Hot Tamale” by Clancy, was highly delighted with the
job Merry had given him.

“It’s an important bit of work, Villum,”’ Merry had
said, pulling a serious face and tipping a wink at his red-
headed chum. “These chaps we’re expecting are all stran-
gers, you know, and they'll be looking for me to receive
them and show them the way to the hotel. You can do
the job in great shape, I know, if you only give your mind
to it. I’d like to meet Rodno, Dill, and Hop Wah with
a brass band, but as I can’t get a band, the next best thing
will be to have you do the trick.”

Villum’s broad face generally wore a smile of careless
. good nature. Now, however, he was so impressed with

  
 

TAP TOP CWEREKEY,

said Frank, staring —

     

the work ahead of him that the smile faded into a look of
gravity and determination. He straightened himself and
thrust one hand into his knitted vest—the vest with the
blue and white stripes. He had seen a picture of Napoleon
once, just like that, and the picture had appealed to him.

“You vas opliged mit me, Chip, for making some recep-
tion gommittees vat iss der real thing,” said Villum. “A
prass pand iss nodding on me. I vill make dose fellers
forged aboudt der pand in der heardiness oof der velcom-
ings vich I shall put ofer, yes. Dey vill enchoy to arrive
by Plyfield mit me to: gif der velcomings. Haf no troubles
mit yourselluf. Your old college chump, Villum Kess, vill
take care oof der pitzness so dot you haf no regreds.”

Villum had received a description of the expected ath-
letes, but his mind was ‘so busy getting ready the things
he wanted to say in his speech of welcome that he forgot
the description. About all he could remember concerning
the arriving athletes was that one was a Chinaman.

Villum, as train time approached, brushed his clothes
carefully. His hat was a derby which had probably been in
style shortly after the Civil War. This he jabbed onto his
mop of tow-colored hair at a rakish angle. His bob-tailed

coat was carefully buttoned over his blue-and-white vest ;-

but, after some study, he discovered that he did not like
an arrangement that concealed the striped waistcoat, so
he unbuttoned the outer garment again. The bottoms of
his baggy trousers lacked an inch or two of meeting his
shoe tops. This, as it seemed, was cunningly designed to
give, the beholder a glimpse of the red socks for which
Villum had a morbid passion.

The Dutch youth lingered so long at the hotel getting
ready for his work, that the whistle of the train suddenly
reminded him that he would be out of a job altogether
if he didn’t hurry. Without waiting for any further
primping, he rushed out of the hotel and down the street

' toward the railroad station.

\?

“Don’d let der station get by der drain mitoudt me!
he yelled excitedly., “Hold me for der drain a gouple oof
minids !”

Villum was afraid he was late, but his fears proved
groundless. He reached the platform just as the train

was pulling in.

Ever since he had reached Blyfield with Merry and

Clancy, Villum Kess had been a source of much pleasure
to the town. Just to look at the lad was said to be a
sure cure for the blues. Everybody was his friend, just
because he tried to be friendly with everybody.

“Hello, Villum!” called the station agent. “Don’t mean
to say you're going to leave town?”

“Der town don’d leaf me so long as Merrivell iss here,
you bed you!” answered Villum. “No, IT peen der re-
ception gommittee for der adledic fellers vat come der drain
on, oof Merrivell has his eXperdedions. Ah,” he finished,
as the train rumbled to a standstill, “now I vatch you
und ve see how a schmard reception gommittee takes der
high chump.”

A youngish-looking fellow got out of one of the cars.
He had a couple of grips and started across the platform.
Villum got in front of him and headed him off. Removing
his derby hat, Villum howed elaborately.

“Rotno,”
ing by der town mit Merrivell who couldn’t come. Ve vas
adledic fellers, you bed my life, und ve belong mit Hordon’s
deam of gracks, You-——”

“Break off,”

'

 

said he, “I been delegationed to gif you velcom-

said the man with the grips, undecided ap-

  

al
‘er

 

 

wey

 

  
     
 
   
  
  
  
  
   
  
 
  
     
  
 
   
  
  
  
   
    
    

  
    
 

 

 

 

 

NEW

  

EP.

parently whether to get mad or treat the affair as a joke.
“If you drive the bus, take this luggage.
the best hotel.”

Villum flushed with annoyance.

“T don’d trive some busses,” he answered, with dignity.
“T been an adledic feller, same as you, und———”

“You're shy,’ cut in the other. “Get back in
cage and shut.the door. I’m a drummer, and: I want to
go : the best hotel. Don’t block the road.”

You don’d vas Neii Rotno?”

“Guess dgain. I don’d vass nodding but a drummer.”

A spasm of merriment passed through the crowd,
Villum put on his hat and fell back in disgust.

“If you’re looking for Neil Rodno,”
turn your eyes this way, pard.”

Villum looked in the direction of the speaker.

l want to go to

your

and
said a» voice, “just

He was

standing at a little distance with a grinning friend at his

side.

“Den you vas Rotno?” inquired Villum, scrambling ‘to-
_ ward the lad.

“Surest thing you know.”

“Vere iss-Pilly Dill alretty 2”

“Here,” spoke up Dill; “Billy’s the name, and Dill’s: part
of the same; but, great hullaballoo, who the dickens are
you?”

As the youngster from Juneau glibly flung this doggerel
at Villum, the latter seemed rather dazed. He started
” out of his daze to reply:

“T been der reception gommifttee to gif eon to der
adledic fellers.”

“Where’s Chip Merriwell?” queried isdiso.

“Pitzness keeps him from der station avay: [I been
delegationed to gif you velcoming by der town mit ‘Merri-
vell who couldn’t come. You vas adleédic fellers, you bed
my life, und ve belong

“That’s all right,” interrupted Rodno, smiling, “but we
don’t need a speech. We'll just move on to the hotel and
look for Chip.”

“Sure,” said Villum, glad to be relieved of a little of his
work. It was proving more difficult than he had im-
agined it would. “Vere iss der shink feller? He: comes
in for part oof der reception.” AN

“He’s around here somewhere,” answéred Rodno, as

he and Dill; laughing amusedly, started to leave the sta-
tion.
-Villum at once began Rinadine through the crowd ‘for
the “shink feller.” Everybody ‘told *him» where to go,
with the result that he lodked. everywhere’ but. in’ the
right place. When he finally managed to catch sight of
the young Chinaman, the latter, with a companion who
looked like a cowboy, was just leaving the? station. plat-
form for the street. Villum hurried after the Celestial:

“Vait vonce!” he called. “You shink feller, blease!
Vait for der velcomings from der gommittee!”’

 

Now there was nothing under heaven better calculated
to arouse all Hop Wah’s animosity than that word “chink.”
He detested it whenever he heard it, and to have the term
flung directly at him he considered equivalent to an insult.
For the moment, Villum had forgotten the Chinaman’s
“name, so he very innocently made use of a word which
he had heard many times applied to a person from the

he Flowery Kingdom.

_. Hop Wah, bristling with indignation, did not stop or look
Baek Villum was full of determination. Merriwell had

told him to welcome the Chinaman, and he would do it at»

ohh on aaa

  

any cost. By

a cowboy.

stood this very. well,

   

TOP WEEKLY. 7

 

sprinting, the Dutch boy managed to come
around in front of Hop Wah and to bar his path:

“Choost vait a leedle, shink, vile I gif you a talk,”
Villum.-.“I been: delegationed

“No likee pidgin,” cried. Hop Wah.. “By jee-klismus,
my givee poke in facé you no makee tlacks!”’

Villum was a little surprised ,at this outburst of temper.
He, had promised Merriwell to welcome the Chinaman,
however, and he was determined to do: it.

“Don’d make some foolishness, blease,” he begged.
vas a shink adledic- feller, und ve vas all——”

The fist of the:exasperated Chinaman leaped, out, caught
Villum suddenly and unexpectedly in;a place where it was
not calculated to. do-so much damage.as to give him some-
thing to'think about: Yet,-for all.that, Villum was badly
shaken: » He. had been ‘struck in the shoulder, and the blow
whirled ;him partly around. .He managed to preserve his
balance; and when-he did topple it was in Hop Wah’s di-
rection. .

The Chinaman was carrying a-bundle in lieu of a satchel.
It was-a bundle tied..up.in a. large, yellow silk handker-
chief. Before he, could-drop -his burden, Villum’s. arms
were around him and there was a wrestling,match.

“Give it to him,/Hop!”. urged the, chap who looked like
“Roll him good. ‘The freak hadn’t. any busi-
ness interfering. with you, and he sure needs a trouncing.”

The violence of the struggle carried the two wrestlers
off. their. feet... They fell inthe dust of the road and
rolled, over and over, first one on top and then the other.
The erdwd from the station contained. few. peacemakers.

said

 

“Vou

~To a man they. seemed overjoyed at the rough-and-tum-

ble,,and gathered around: to cheer and applaud. ;
Once, when Villum was uppermost for a.moment, he
hung to Hop Wah like grim death and panted:
-*L been -delegationed. to. gif you. some, velcomings by
Plyfield, und by -chincher dot iss vat-I do. You been an
adledic’ feller, und ve all-been adledic fellers, und I -haf
der bleasure to veléome you mit Merrivell who iss avay on
pitzness. It vas a habbiness—careful mit-dot fist. oder
I soak: you: vone!—to meet an adledic feller und to gif
him. der gladt: handt oof fellowship
Just: here: Hop: Wah twisted himself from underneath,
and the words of Villum were smothered as he tipped
sideways and was flattened under the Chinaman’s knees.
“You makee fool of China boy!” puffed Hop Wah.
“Plitty seen you be heap poe fo’. makee fool of China
boy’ «My givee-—”’ “ss
Then Hop Wah went.over and Villum. came to the sur-
face. Pennyworth hurried forward to lay hands on the
Dutch boy, but Neil Rodno stepped resolutely in front
of him. These two, alréady at daggers drawn, were on
the point of falling to with:their fists when the crowd sepa-

 

_rated-and Merry and Clancy came rushing to the scene.

“Here, here, this won't do!” cried Frank. “Villum,
what sort of a reception do you call this, anyway?”

While he ran to keep the peace between Hop Wah and
Villum Kess, Clancy proceeded to give his attention. to

Rodno and Pennyworth,

CHAPTER Vv,
AN UGLY SITUATION.

‘Rufus otis hed said that there must be harmony and
good feeling between the:amateur athletes. Merry under-
aihvit--seemed rather a hard dis-

 
 

  

8

pensation of fate that there should be a row, between. Hop
Wah and Villum right at the when
the team was beginning to,round up in Blyfield.

Of course, Merry did not know the full extent of the
hard feeling among the prospective members of the team}
but what he could see with his own eyes was enough
for the present.

“Chi-Melly!” cried Hae Wah, his slant eyés brighten-
ing as they rested on Frank.

“Get up, Hop,” said Frank: “You're trying to strangle
one of my best friends. You fellows shouldn’t be row-
ing it like this. What’s the trouble?” .

Frank heaved Hop Wah to his. feet and planted him off
to one side. While he was doing this, Villum scranibled
to an erect posture and began bees the dust from his
blue-and-white vest.

eee boy makee insult fo’ China boy,
Hop. “My no takee insult.”

“He vas anodder!” whooped: Villum. “I vanted: to gif
him a velcoming, und he hit: me mit his fist. Yah, so
hellup me. I ‘do vat I do mit chentleness. und» kind
vorts, und he handt me vone. I don’d got some: hardt
feelings, aber I can lick him mit .vone arm tied by my pack,
yes.

Kess very moment

Melly,” said

“He makee call me ‘chink,’”. glowered the Chihamaa,
“His name vat it iss I forgod,” explained Villum. “He
iss a shink, so I call him it, forgedding vat else he iss.
Yah! Und vat iss a shink? You.ask me und I say, a shink
iss a monkey, mit his dail in der:wrong blace, und——”
Hop made a jump at Villum, but Metry’ quickly re-
strained him.
“My b’long -allee

“No gottee queue!” cackled Hop.

samee China lepublic.”

“That’s enough!” said Frank sternly. “Hop, you're :a
friend of mine, and Villum .Kess, here, is another friend
of mine. You both belong to our athletic team, and you
must be friends. Villum didn’t mean to insult you, Hop.
I asked him to come here and meet some members of the
squad who were due to arrive on the flyer. He wanted
to, welcome you, that’s all. Villum, don’t you forget Hop
Wah’s name again. Now, shake hands and make up.”

The Chinaman and the Dutchman looked at each other
dubiously. Finally they stepped slowly forward and me-
chanically touched hands. There was nothing cordial
about. it.

“Chust der same,” muttered Villum, in a low tone, but
which Frank did not fail to hear, “mit vone handt I can
lick you!”

“Whoosh!” jeered Hop.
oy

This was the best Merry could do, in the circumstances.
Later on he would do what he could to patch up the! dif-
ferences between. the Chinaman and the Dutchman. Just
then, though, his attention was drawn to Rod, Clancy, the
fellow who looked like a cowboy, and to another with
shifty eyes and a face not at all engaging.

“Howdy, Rod,” said Frank cheerily, putting out his hand.
“You were trying to help Hop Wah, eh? Guess you

“Some day mebbyso you makee

den’t know Hop. He’s another member ‘of the amateur
squad. Mighty glad to see you, old man.”

“Same here, Chip,” came heartily ftom Neil.

“Aw, fight it out, settle it right here,” the fellow with
the shifty eyes was saying to the lad in the cowboy
hat.

a

 

e

NEW TIP: TOP. WEBRiY.

‘“Red-head, there, won't let me at him,” growled the
‘cowboy.

“What's this?” Frank whirled on Clancy and the other
two: “What’s biting the cowboy, Clan?” he demanded.

“He -says he’s Arlo Pennyworth,” answered Clancy, with
a queer look, “and the other chap, that seems so hungry
for the fracas to go on, allows he is Chester’ Brezee. [|
guess you'd ‘better take hold about here, Chip,” and Clancy
stepped back.

This left an opening and. Pennyworth aimed a blow at
‘Rodno. ‘Frank, quick as a flash, grabbed Pénnyworth’s
arm.

“Wait!” exclaimed Frank.

“It’s none of your funeral,” scowled Pennyworth.

“That’s what I say,” added Chester Brezee.

“That’s where you’re wrong, fellows,” said Frank good-
naturedly, “You are really Arlo Pennyworth?” he in-
quired.

“That's what I am—really,”
pleasant temper.

“And you’re Chet Brezee?”

“Just that,” answered he of the shifty eyes and forbid-
ding face.

“Well,” proceeded Frank, “we’re all members of Hor-
ton’s athletic squad, and we’re just rounding up here in
Blyfield. There mustn’t be any hard feelings, you know.”

“You're shy a few, Merriwell,” returned Pennyworth |
coolly. “You say there mustn’t be any hard feelings. But
that’s where you go lame, for there is. You-say, too, that
we're all members of Horton’s amateur athletic team.
That’s another on you. If Rodno belongs, then I don’t.
Which way is it?”

Frank was amazed.
cut up.

“This is a deuce of a mix!” growled Rod. “I reckon,
Chip, that I’d better take the next train back to Juneau.
I don’t want to be the cause of any trouble.”

“No, you don’t,” declared Frank.

“Then that lets me out,” snorted Pennyworth.

“Not so you can notice it,” said Frank, spinning around.
“What’s wrong between you and Rodno, Pennyworth?”

‘said the cowboy, in no very

Rodno and Dill looked very much

“I’m not telling it for the hull town to hear,” answered
Pennyworth.
“Penn,” spoke up Hop Wah, “Melliwell him heap fine

chap.. You likee Chi-Melly. Don’t makee tlouble!”

“The trouble’s already made, Hop,” was the reply,
it can’t be helped.”

“Let’s go on to the hotel, fellows,” suggested Frank,
“and we can all get together there and settle these differ-
ences. They've got to be settled, you know, and as soon
as possible. Come on!”

“Hold your bronks a minute,” said Pennyworth.
hotel are you stopping at, Merriwell?”

“Borden House.”

“Ts Rodno there with you?”

“Sure.”

“Then me for some other honkatonk.
under the same roof with that juniper.”

“You'll go with me to the Delmonico,”
Brezee.

Frank was nate disturbed by this row in the ranks.
Just then, however, he felt that the least said the soonest
mended.

“All right, ones ” said he, “you go to the Del-
monico with Brezee, I’ll be around there after supper, and

“and

“What | >

I wouldn't stay

put in Chester
te

  

 

 

 
 

 

 

_ goes too deep for that.

 

  

have a talk with you. This thing can: be fixed up all
right.”

“IT reckon it can’t,” grunted Pennyworth.

“Anyhow, you'll wait for that talk with me?”

“Sure, that’s only square.”

“Penn,” begged Hop, “you waitee.
‘move, Penn. Him heap bad pidgin.”

“I savvy, Hop,” said Penn, with a nod,:and picked up
his luggage and walked off with Brezee.

Frank turned back to Rod and Dill.

“Here, you fellows,” said he, “shake hands. with Hop
Wah, one of the finest little Chinamen that. ever. crossed
the Pacific.”

“We've met before, Chip,”

“Where?”

“On the flyer coming hyer,” laughed Billy Dill.

“That’s rotten, Billy,” said Merry, with a grin, slapping
the little fellow on the back. “As ‘a poet you’re pretty
bum. You may have met Hop, but I know you haven’t
seen my red-headed chum. Shake hands with . Owen
Clancy, fellows. He’s homely, but he’s good.”

“Good for nothing, I guess,” said Clancy, as he caught
the offered hands and gave them a cordial pressure, “A
pal of Chip’s is a pal of. mine, always. Maybe I haven’t
heard about you two!”

“And maybe we haven’t heard about you!” Lael
Red.

“Yes, by thunder, you’re a wonder—the way. Chip. tells
it!” observed Dill.

“He’s all to the mustard the way anybody tells it,” said
Frank. “Now for the Borden House. On the way, Rod,
tell me something about this row you seem to have got into
with Pennyworth.”

“Darn!” growled Rodno, very>much out of sorts.. “Say,
I hadn’t a notion that fellow or the Chinaman belonged
to the amateur squad. The train was crowded, and I sat
with him. The Chinaman was right in front, and Billy
was in the seat behind.”

“We wouldn’t have been balled up like that, Rod,” said
Dill, “if you hadn’t got up and given your seat to a lady.”

“Thanks, Billy,” answered Rod elaborately. “I need ap-
preciation, just about now. It’s like this,.Chip,” he went
on. “Pennyworth crowded against me in the seat, and the
next moment I missed my pocketbook. Then I did. a fool-
ish thing. I pushed a hand into his pocket to see if the
missing leather. was there—and he caught me at it. We
had a few words, not exactly. pleasant, and Hop found the
pocketbook on the floor. I tried to beg Pennyworth’s par-
don, but he wouldn’t have it, He lit into. me, and we
tumbled into the aisle, Just about then we reached Bly-
field, and we had to break loose and get off the train.
When Villum Kess and Hop Wah came together, I started

to protect Villum from Pennyworth—then, I reckon, we’d
have had it which and t’other right there if Clancy hadn’t
interfered.” \

No makee : foolish

said Rod.

- Merriwell gave vent to.a.long whistle.
tween Rod and Penn gave the situation a decidedly ugly
look.

“It’s a devil of a mix,” went on Rod, his eyes on Merry’s
_ perturbed face, “and I reckon the quickest way out of the
muddle is for me to hop on the next train and go back to
Juneau.”
“No!” said Frank decidedly. at
“But you can’t patch up the trouble,” insisted Rod. “It
There must be good feeling among
“ ;

This feeling be- =

  

NEW TIP. TOP .WEEKLY. 9

the amateurs, you know, and ® this Penfyworth and I are
on. the squad there’ll never be that.”

“Oh, yes, there will,” declared Frank.

“My mad is up a little now,” went on Rod. “Penny-
worth is pushing this thing too far, and he has got me go-
ing. He evidently wants a row. I’m not the sort to stand
back when a fellow shows a spirit of that kind.”

Merry felt as though he was up against a hard proposi-
tion, but he was firmly determined not to lose either Rod
or Penn from the team.

“Wait till I talk with Penn this evening,” said he.

CHAPTER VI.
APPROACHING A CRISIS.

Rodno, Dill, and Hop Wah found comfortable quarters
in the Borden House. Hop and Villum showed symptoms
of bredking out into violence; but Frank took Villum aside
and threatened to dismiss him from the team if he did not
cultivate a more friendly disposition toward the Chinaman.
To be cut out of the crowd of crack amateurs would have
broken Villum’s heart, and he tried honestly to be amiable.
Hop Wah plainly thought this was all on the surface, for
his manner continued to be chilling and uncompromising.

After suppér, Merry. and Clancy got off by themselves
for a brief» exchange of ideas concerning the outlook.
They were both rather gloomy.

“What the mischief has got in to everybody?” Clancy
grumbled. “Right now, when everything depends on team-
work and pulling together, the squabbling seems to begin.
The outlook is dark for a game with the Pirates, Chip, if
the troubles can’t be patched up. And it doesn’t look to
me as though they’d stand patching.”

“They’ve got to stand it, Clan,” said Merry. “Somehow
or another there has got to be peace in our camp.”

“Even Rod seems backward about making up with Pen-
nyworth,”

“Oh, Rod will come along when I get Pennyworth started
right. It’s a foolish little row they've got on, and there
ought to be some way to fix it up.”

“Don’t ‘let either of them slip away from us. We've
just got our nine for the game with the Pirates, counting
in Villum. If necessary, though, some of the academy
fellows would chink in and help us.’

* “We don’t want any one from the academy but Codding-
ton. We must use our amateur squad for that» game.
Blazes! | wonder what. Horton will think when he hears
about.this rowdying?”

“He'll be sore, of course.
that.”

“Well, I'll not report to Fics Clan, until I have my talk
with Pennyworth.”

_“Going over to the Delmonico Hotel soon?”

“I’m going now. The, quicker I get the interview over
with, the sooner we'll know just where wé stand.”

“Well, look out.for Chet Brezee,” warned Clancy. “I
don’t like that f®llow’s looks or actions. He acts to me
like a troublemaker.” —

Although Frank did not tell Clancy so, yet he himself
had taken a dislike to Brezee. During the trouble on the
way from the station, Brezee had done nothing at all in
the interest of pedce and good feeling, but had tried to
nag Pennyworth into further hostilities.

Frank knew that animosity might grow so strong among
the gathering athletes that the organization might suffer

You can’t blame him. for

  
NEW. TIP

Io

serious losses,
to the benefit’ of Lattimer
solved to do everything possible; therefore,
nyworth into a pleasanter state of mind,

The Delmonico Hotel was a frame building in the shab-
biest part of the little town: As Frank stepped’into the
office, his eyes immediately fell on Pennyworth and Brezee.
The two. were sitting by themselves, in one corner, and
they had ‘their heads‘ together in close conversation. At
sight of Frank, they ‘straightened in their chairs and drew

a little apart.

There was an angry flush on Pennyworth’s face, and a
resolute gleam in his eyes. Brezee, it was certain, was
doing little to smooth over the cowboy’s injured feelings.
A feeling of resentment against Brezee flamed up~ sud-
denly in Frank’s breast.

“Can I have a few moments’ talk with you, Penny-
worth?” Merry asked, halting in front of the two lads.

“Pull up a chair, Merriwell,” answered Pennyworth, “and
go to it.”

“T’d like to talk with you alone,” said Frank. °

“Take this chair, then,” remarked Brezee, getting up.

“Sit down, Chet,’ spoke up. Pennyworth gruffly. “I
reckon we'll thresh it out in front of you. I-don’t see any

and his Piratés; ‘He was’ re-

to argue Pen-

reason for making a star- chamber session out of this con-

fab with Merriwell,”

3rezee sat down again. Frank saw it would not do to
insist on a private conference,’ so, although he disliked
saying anything in front of Brezee, yet he made the best
of the situation. Drawing up a chair, he seated himself.

There was a queer look on Brezee’s face. Either he was
angry because Merry had wanted to leave him out of the
talk with Pennyworth, or else he had other grounds for
nursing a grudge. His face expressed not only hostility,
but sneering insolence.

“Maybe you know, Panty wen” began Frank, “or maybe
you don’t, that Mr. Horton has made me the captain of
this’ squad of amateurs we're rounding up here in Bly-
field.”

“We know that,” put in Brezee,
they’re to be called Merriwell’s Athletes,
you on pretty thick, seems to me.’

“So far as I am concerned, Brezee,”’ said Frank curtly,
“T don’t care a hoot how it seems to you. Pennyworth
is the chap who’s claiming the heft of my attention just

”

“and we know ‘that
He’s spreading

Merriwell,” flared Penny-
alike about a heap: of

“Brezee is a friend of mine,
worth. “I find that we think
- things.”
“That’s your business, of course,’ went on Frank. “As
-jcaptain of Horton’s amateurs, I want peace in the ranks.
-There’s no sense in bickering, or hanging on to a grouch.
Rodno has told me what ‘happened on the train——”

“Fixed up his side of it, all right, and I’ll bet money,”
sneered Pennyworth.

Brezee made no comment, but laughed softly and jeer-

ingly. re

“Well, no,” said Frank, keeping his temper down with
difficulty, “he didn’t spare himself in the least. He admits
he was to blame, and he says he offered an apology which
- you wouldn’t accept.”
“When a fellow calls another a thief,” returned Pest
worth darkly, “it takes more’n an apology to square
things.” 8 BIG
“You're right about that, Penn,”

; ¥ at ee }

seconded Brezee.

And these loes, of course, would all inure“

TOP WEEKLY.

Merry had a feeling that he was arguing with some one
wlio would not listen-to reason; and he also had a feeling
that
promising attitude.

For a few moments I‘rank was tempted to jump up, tell
Brezee what he thought of him, turn on his heel, and walk
out of the hotel. Then he reflected how much this might
mean to Horton, and ‘how it would handicap the squad
which was to rush into a match game with the Pirates on
Saturday afternoon. Pennyworth, too, was a friend of
Hop Wah’s. It was Frank’s duty to put up with a good
deal from him. And it was necessary for him to put up
with a good deal from Brezee in order to do anything with
Pénnyworth.

Merry swallowed his growing wrath.
win ‘Pennyworth’s good will.

“There is a game scheduled with Lattimer’s Pirates for
Saturday afternoon,” he proceeded, “and with a raw bunch
like ours, playing together for the first time, you can readily
see, Pennyworth, how we’re handicapped. We have just
nine men’ to play, counting you and Brezee. Little per-
sonal ‘differences ought not to stand in ‘the way. Can't’
you forget your grievance against Rodno until after Sat-
urday? By then, maybe something will happen ‘so we can
patch it up. FE know Rod. He’s a little bit hasty, some-
times, but he’s one of the finest fellows in the world, at
heart.” ;

“Ye”

srezee had much to do with Pennyworth’s uncom-

Again he tried to

said Pennyworth, “I’m wise to the fact that you
know him. You helped Rodno out with a crowd of fel-
lows at Juneau. You know him, and you don’t know ,me.
There, I opine, is about where the shakeup comes in.”

“What do you mean?”

“Listen here, once: When I make up my mind to a
thing, Merriwell, I’m a regular Rock of Gibberaltar, and
can’t be budged. I’ve settled it in my mind like this:
Either Rodno or I have got to pull the pin on this amateur
team. That’s all. You’re the captain, and it’s up to you
to say which.”

“You don’t mean that you’d cut yourself out of a sum-
mer’s sport just because of a petty quarrel. with Rodno?”

“Nary I won’t cut myself out of a summer’s sport:
Horton’s crowd isn’t the only one in the country. There
are others.”

“Are you referring to Lattimer, Pennyworth?”

“T sure am.”

“Now you've hit something, Merriwell,” spoke up Brezee,
with ill-concealed exultation. “What Pennyworth puts up.
to you is this: You'll either fire Rodno or he'll quit Hor-
ton and’go over to Lattimer.”

“Oh, he will!”
moved his chair a bit so as to come squarely face to face.
with Chester Brezee. “Is Pennyworth able to talk for him-.
self, Brezee? Or, has he asked you to do his talking for
him ?” ¢

“Pm talking ‘for the two of us,” was Brezee’s answer.

“Tf you don’t fire Rodno, Penn. and I will both go over to Me

Lattimer. I. reckon that’s flat, ain’t it?” ‘
“T reckon it is,’ said Frank. “And you're eet one that
went to Horton and told him you didn’t like Lattimer’s

reputation, and that you'd like to join this crowd we're —

rounding up in Blyfield!”

“Well, maybe I did,” answered Brezee, with a sii es

glance at Pennyworth. }
“Fas Lattimer’s reputation improved any during the,
last two or three days?” Frank inquired EMERY i}

 

Merry’s face: reddened slowly and es Fae.
 

 

 

 

  
  
  
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
   
 
   
   
  
  
   
    

“That’s my business!”

“Of course it’s your business.- But why this sudden
change, all at once? Did Rodno accuse you of being a
thief ?”

“You bet he didn’t!” bristled Brezee.
have pounded the face off him!”

“Then why are you going over to Lattimer if I don’t fire
Rodno ?”

“Because I’m standing pat with Pennyworth, that’s why.”

“You’ve known. Pennyworth about four hours—and you
two must have become fast friends in short order. But
that’s not-the reason,” declared Frank sternly. “Lattimer
sent you to Blyfield to make trouble for Horton’s amateurs.

“If he had, I’d

You’re pretending to be a friend of Pennyworth’s just to

take him over to the other camp. Brezee, you’re a sneak
end. a eur!”

Brezee jumped to his feet, his fists clenched. Frank
turned and walked slowly toward the door.

“Pennyworth,” he called back, “don’t let Brezee make a
fool of you.”

Brezee gave vent to a wrathful roar, and leaped in front
of Merry. The latter swept him out of his path with ease
and dispatch, dropping him with a thump on the office
floor.

While Brezee sputtered in futile rage, Frank kept on to
the door. Pausing there, he turned for a final word.

“You're too sensible a chap, Pennyworth, to be taken in
by a fellow of Brezee’s caliber. Think it over.”

With that, he left the room.

CHAPTER VII. »
THE SNEAK.

The idea that Chester Brezee had been sent to Blyfield
to make trouble for Horton’s squad had flashed over Merry
like an inspiration. There was no proof that the fellow
was playing such a despicable part except in the way he had
busied himself with this Pennyworth affair. That, how-
ever, was enough to suddenly arouse suspicion in Merri-
well’s mind.

As Frank made his way back toward the Borden House
he turned this new phase of the matter over in his mind.
His temper had cooled, and he could consider it more
calmly than he had while talking with Brezee and Penny-
worth.

Horton was under the impression that Lattimer did not
care so much for a game Saturday as he did to work
some scheme or other for making trouble.among the Bly-
field athletes—trouble through which the Pirates might
profit. Wasn’t it more than possible that Lattimer had
sent Brezee to get a “stand in” with Horton and so work
from the inside in order to cause dissension in the ranks
of Horton’s men?

Frank was certain that it was more than possible, but
he could not be absolutely certain that it was a fact. That

was something he wished he knew, beyond any manner of.

doubt. Circumstances, as it happened, were even then de-
veloping toward a point which would give him positive
knowledge in the matter.

When he got back to the hotel, he found Clancy walk-
ing impatiently up and down the porch in front.
“You've been gone a deuce of a while, Chip!” grumbled
Clancy. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

_ “Has something turned up?” asked Merry.

,

   

NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY.

  

“I should say so! What luck did you have with Penny-
worth?”

“No luck at all. This thing is getting mighty serious,
Clan. If I don’t let Rodno go, our crowd will lose both
Pennyworth and Brezee.”

“Hang Brezee! I think he ought to be kicked out, any-
how, on general principles. Say, Chip, I shouldn’t wonder
if that fellow had been sent here by Lattimer just to cause
trouble for us!”

Frank was startled. Clancy’s thoughts and his own
seemed to be running in the same channel.

“Jupiter!” muttered Frank. “That’s the idea that took
hold of me, Clan. But it’s only a suspicion—we can’t be-
sure of it.”

“T’ve a notion that we can make sure of it. That’s why
I’ve been waiting for you. You hadn’t been gone five
minutes from the hotel when a kid blew in here with a
note for Hop Wah. The note was marked private, and
the Chinaman went off by himself to read it. After a while
he came over to me and said the note was from Penny-
worth, and that Pennyworth wanted him to havé’a talk with
Brezee at eight-thirty, in the alley back of this hotel. Hop
thought there might, be something crooked in the wind,
and he said he’d report as soon as he got back. It’s pretty
near eight-thirty now, and Hop started for the alley fifteen

minutes ago.” ,
“Looks like sneaking, underhand work, Red,’ commented
Merry.

“That’s the way it struck me—and Hop, too. We can
find out just what’s up by making a move in‘the direction
of the alley; that is, if we’re not too late.”

“We're not too late. When I left the Delmonico Hotel,
Brezee and Pennyworth were both there. Where are Rod
and Dill?”

“Gone to bed. And so ‘has Villum. It’s just as well,
Chip; two of us are enough for this work.”

Quietly they descended from the porch and made their
way along the side of the hotel toward the rear. A wood-
shed stood at the back of the yard, and in the shadow cast
by this small structure the boys halted and listened. A
drone of voices, pitched in a low key, reached their ears,
coming from the alley side of the woodshed.

“They’re there, Chip,’ whispered Clancy, “and hard at
it.”

“Brezee didn’t lose much time following me from the
Delmonico Hotel,” breathed Merry. “Let’s get closer to
them.”

They crawled around the end of the woodshed, and
finally found themselves in the shelter of a board fence.
Cautiously peering over the top of the fence, their strain-
ing eyes made out two figures in the gloom. They were
brought so close to the figures, by this last change of posi-
tion, that they could overhear distinctly all that was said.

Brezee was one of the speakers. There was no doubt
about that. In the darkness Frank could not*identify- him
by sight, but the sound of his voice left no doubt. What
he ‘said, too, was absolute proof.

“Penn no makee come?” Hop Wah was asking.

“No,” said the other; “Penn reckoned he’d stay at the
hotel. He only wrote that note to get you to meet me,
anyhow. If I’d asked you to come here to the alley, for
a talk, you’d have shied at the proposition; but Penn’s
a friend of yours, and we allowed that a note from him
would bring you.”

«

~~ “Evel’ time. Whatee’ you want, huh?”

  
   
  

12 NEW: TIP TOP WEEKLY.

“Well, look here, Hop: You're not stuck on staying
with this Merriwell bunch of athletes, are you? You ain't
so much in love with Merriwell that you'll hang to him
and his crowd when there’s a chance to do a lot better
by yourself?”

“My no savvy. You b’long to Chi-Melly’s clowd, huh?”

“That’s with me just as it is with you, I belong if I
want to, and I don’t belong if I feel that way. ‘There are
no strings on any of us. We're independent. If things
don't go right, it’s our privilege to make a change. You
understand that, don’t you?”

“My no likee makee change. Chi-Melly heap good fliend
Hop. Wah. My no likee leavee Chi-Melly in lurch.”

“Oh, bosh! Don’t strain yourself too much, Hop, just
out of friendship to Merriwell. You want to belong to
a crowd of real athletes—fellows who can roam through
the West and walk away with every event they enter.
Ain’t that right? Well, Merriwell’s outfit is mostly scrubs.
Merriwell and Pennyworth and you are the only real cracks
they've got in the bunch. Rodno is a farce and Dill is a
joke. As for that Dutchman, he couldn't run a mile in
twenty minutes. Now, over at Trawlee there’s a round-
up of real amateur athletes, backed by a man who knows
the athletic game up and down and crossways, His bunch
can run circles around this Merriwell outfit. Penn and I
are going over to Lattimer, and we want you to go
with us.”

“No likee,” said Hop Wah. ‘Him sneakee pidgin. Chi-
Melly plenty fine chap. My heap solly fo’ Penn. Him
allee same top-side boy. Why he leavee Chi-Melly?”

“You know blamed well why he’s leaving the Horton
crowd. Merriwell just had a talk with Penn at the Del-
monico. Penn told him flat that if Rodno stayed on the
team, then Penn would draw out. I’m with: Penn, chaps,
taps, and latigos, so I told Merriwell that if Penn went
over to Lattimer I’d go with him. All we want now is
for you to come along with us. Penn is a better friend
of- yours than Merriwell. You can’t go back on Penn,

can you?”
“Whoosh! Penn allee same go back on Hop Wah,”
“Rubbish! Merriwell will hang to Rodno Jike grim
death. That’s a cinch. He wants to keep both Penn and

- Rodno, but if he has to let one of the two go, it will
be Penn. We know that. I’m going to send a telegram
to Lattimer to-night. He’ll-be over here in the morning,
and then he'll talk with you and Penn himself—that is, if
‘you'll agree to come with Penn and me, Don’t be foolish,
Hop!” ;

“You savvy Lattimel ?”

“You bet I know him! He’s one of the finest chaps on
the turf. All I want you to do is to talk with him to-
morrow. Will you?”

Frank had heard enough. There wasn’t a doubt, now,
as to the real rdle Chester Brezee was playing.

Vaulting over the fence, Merry, in two jumps, came_
by coming desperate.

front to front with the astounded Brezee. The latter, with
a gasp, backed up against the side of the woodshed.

“Who—who are you?” mumbled Brezee.

“You know bin T.“am,. all ge" answered Frank
‘sternly.

“So Hop double crossed me, eh? After he got. that note

; : from Penn, he put it up to you fellows to trail along and
Vu get square with the slant-

keep tab on what happened!
ere dub for this 1” Bons f

@

 

Clancy had leaped the. fence and joined Merriwell. The
two, now, were confronting the spy and troublemaker.

“You “won't get square with anybody for anything,
Brezee,” “From what [I’ve heard, I know that
what I accused you of, a little while ago at the Delmonico,
is correct. Lattimer sent you here to kick up a disturb-
ance. Luck was with you, right from the start, for there
was a row on between Pennyworth and Rodno when you
got into the game. But it’s not going to do you any
good,” \

“Eavesdropping, were you?” sneered Brezee.

“I suppose you might call it that. I wanted to be sure
what sort of a fellow you really are before I went very
far. Now I know. You're a sneak, Brezee, just as I told
you once before to-night. In order to talk with Hop and
try and get him away from us, you had to lure him out
here into the alley.”

There was a moment’s silence.

“Well,” said Brezee presently, trying to speak coolly,
“what are you going to do about it? . Pennyworth and I[
are going over to Lattimer. Hop, I suppose, will hang
to you. I'll have a telegram in Lattimer’s hands before
morning, and he’ll be in Blyfield early to-morrow and make
sure of Penn.”

“You'll send no telegram to Lattimer to-night, Brezee,!!
declared Frank firmly.

“T’d like to know how you’ re going to help yourself,”
blustered Brezee.

“That will be clear to you in about a minute. When
Penn finds out what a sneaking, two-faced skunk you are,
T guess gel enaHge his mind about leaving us for Latti-
mer’s crowd.

“T guess he won’t. You'll have to fire Rodno before
you keep Penn. That sort of a racket won’t work.”

Brezee took a step away from the side of the woodshed.
Frank got in front of him.

said Frank.

“Don’t you interfere: with me!” cried Brezee savagely.

“P’'m going to the telegraph office and——”

“You're not going to the telegraph office!”

There was a brief pause, then Brezee struck at Frank
with his fist, Merry avoided the blow, hurled himself for-
ward, encompassed Brezee with his arms, and pushed him,
squirming, against the side of the woodshed again..

“Get a rope, Clan,” said Frank. “There’s a clothesline
in the hotel yard—a piece of that will do.”

“What the devil are you up to?” fumed Brezee.

“Wait a little,’ was the cool answer,
out.”

CHAPTER VIII.

THE PRISONER IN No, 8,

Neither Clancy nor Hop Wah had the slightest idea what,
But both of them knew that. the

Merry’s plans were.
scheme, whatever it was, was justified by the circumstances,

and was probably a last resort in a situation that was be- _
Clancy went for a piece of the plothes,

line.

‘Tl raise the merry deuce here in about a minute,"
threatened Brezee, “if you don’t let me go.”

Frank, keeping Brezee pinned to the ae of the wood:

shed with his right hand, lifted his left and laid it over
his captive’s lips to prevent outcry. ie

“Hop!” Frank called. Am d ee 3

“All same,” chirped the Chinaman.

“and you'll find —

 

_ TENS oe RET Ee

‘”
7

Ht
|
Ta)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

   
   
   

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

     

 

 
  
 
NEW

 

“Twist a handkerchief into a rope and tie it between
srezee’s jaws. I guess that will discourage him if he tries
to yell.”

Hop went cheerfully about his task.
realizing that the situation was getting serious for him,
struggled fiercely, and tried to force the smothering hand
from his lips: For a few moments Frank had about all he
could attend to; then Hop came with the gag, and it was
forced into place while Frank held the prisoner’s hands.

This bit of work was no more than finished before Clancy
came with the section of clothesline. Brezee’s arms were
bound at his back. He was then forced to a sitting pos-
ture, and his feet were tied at the ankles.

“So far, so good,” remarked Merry, straightening up and
standing over the captive.

‘“What’s the next move, Chip?”

va a Riera ip tea per ane

queried Clancy, chuck-

 

ling.
“Well, we've got to keep Brezee a prisoner until we can
7, make peace somehows between Pennyworth and Rodno.
, } _ Brezee is too infernally busy with these plans of Lattimer’s,

and we've got to stow him away comfortably and let him
take a rest.”

Hop Wah cackled mirthfully, and Clancy smothered his

- delight with difficulty.

“I suppose, Chip,” said the red-headed chap, “that you’re
particularly anxious not to have that telegram go to Lat-
timer to-night?”

“711 admit, Clan,” Frank answered, “that that telegram
was worrying me. If Lattimer came over from Trawlee
to-morrow, he might get a promise from Pennyworth that
‘would make it. useless to try to patch up Penn’s differ-
ences with Rod. This is rather rough work, and a bit
high-handed, but what else is there for us to do?”

“Nothing else,” said Clancy promptly. “Brezee is get-

 

 

 

 

3 ting just what he deserves. He came over here, pulled the
_. wool over Horton’s eyes, and proceeded to lie low just so
Si he could cop out some of our men for Lattimer. A fellow.

like that can’t be handled with gloves.”

“My heap solly fo’ Penn,” wailed Hop Wah, “but my
likee punch Blezee’s face. Him coyote! By jee-klismus,
-§ him velly bad egg! Him makee Penn leavee Ho’ton fo’

Lattimel. Whoosh! . My no savvy Penn.”

“About the only thing for us to do, Clan,” remarked

Merriwell, after a few moments’ thought, “is to take

Brezee up to our room. We can make him comfortable
_ there. We don’t want to hurt the fellow, you know, but

just to keep him where he can’t do any more harm.”

“Sure,” agreed Clan. “But how are we going to get him
up to the room without somebody catching on? ‘There are
- several people in the hotel office.”
_ “We won't take him through the office. There is a back
stairway‘to the second floor, and you get to it by way of
‘the kitchen. This hotel has changed owners and narnes
since I stopped at the place when I first came to Blyfield,
but I know the layout of the place tolerably well. You
fellows stay here while I go to the hotel and investi-
gate.”
Merry climbed the fee's and carefully approached the
building from the rear. The supper work was all over in
the kitchen, There was a light burning in the room, how-
ever, and one of the waiters sat by a table. The fellow
owas leaning back in a chair, his head dropped forward on
his breast, and his snores were rumbling through the place.
_ Frank opened the kitchen door. The sleeping man was
not disturbed. Crossing the room, Frank opened the door

 

   

  

  

TIP TOP WEEKLY.

Meanwhile Brezee, *

    
    
  
   
  
  
  
   
 
   
    
  
  
   
  
   
   
   
  
     
    
    
 
  
  
    
    
   
  
   
   
    
  
   
     
     
 
  
  
 
 
  
 

leading to the réar stairway. From the front part of the
establishment he could hear talk and laughter, but that did
not alarm him in the least. So long as the man by the
table remained asleep, the coast was clear.

Hurrying back to the fence, Frank called to Clancy and
Hop to lift Brezee over to him. The helpless chap was
raised high and rolled into Merry’s arm. Clancy and Hop
thereupon climbed into the yard, lifted Brezee by the feet
and shoulders, and bore him toward the kitchen. Frank
went ahead; made certain that the waiter was still slum-
bering, and then motioned for Clancy and Hop to carry
the prisoner across the room to the stairs.

This was accomplished successfully. Frank softly closed

both doors and followed his friends to the second floor.

No one was encountered in the hallway above, and Frank
pushed his key into the door of room 8, unlocked it, and
the prisoner was soon on the inside and lying on one of
the two iron beds with which the sleeping quarters were
equipped.

Merry and Clancy had the room together. They would
be able to double up, somehow, and make a place for the
prisoner.

The shade was pulled down at the window, the door was
closed and locked, and then the gas was lighted. Brezee
was mumbling wrathfully behind the gag, and his eyes
blazed in fierce protest.
in his ‘face.

“When a chap tries to play an underhand game same as
you did, Brezee,” he murmured, “he can’t expect to be
treated with much consideration. Lattimer would enjoy
this if he knew about it—I don’t think.”

Brezee bit savagely at the twisted handkerchief and
squirmed helplessly.

“Take it easy, Brezee,” admonished Frank. “I’m sorry
we had to use the gag, but you threatened to yell, you
know, and we couldn’t stand for that. We're not going to
hurt you, but we’re going to keep you here until we can get
Pennyworth and Rodno on better terms. Of course, you'll
not be one of our team. When you asked Horton té# take
you on, you didn’t mean- it.
Lattimer from getting Pennyworth.”

Clancy. went off to one side and dropped down in a
chair. Merry, leaving Hop to keep an eye on Brezee, went
over and took a seat at his chum’s side.

“How is Pennyworth going to be smoothed down, Chip?”
queried Clancy. “I guess this move will hold him back for
a day or two from joining Lattimer, but the hardest job
will be to make peace between Penn and Rod.”

“Darned if I know how to go about that,” admitted
Frank. ‘Penn is as obstinate as a mule. | don’t know
what the fellow will do when Brezee fails to show up at
the other hotel. Can’t you think of something?”

“Nothing, except putting the peacemaking up to Hop,”
was the answer.

“Jove! That intone. not be a had idea. Say, Hop,”
Frank added, turning to the Chinaman, “how well do you
know Pennyworth?”

“My savvy him heap plenty,” said Hop Wah.
lun fo’ Y. M. C. A. at Monteley. Penn makee lun half

mile heap fast, bleakee leco’d. One time, on lanch, cattle
-lun away like Samee Hill, makee stampede. Hop Wah light

in flont of stampede. Penn snatchee China boy away flom
in flont, savee scalp. Oh, Penn him plenty fine cowboy |

_My heap solly Penn makee tlouble.”

ae

Clancy bent over him and laughed’

Our work now is to keep.

>
“We makee ©

 

     
   
   
       
      
   
    
        
      
    
     
      
       
  

 

“If he saved your life during a cattle stampede,” re-
marked Frank, his regard for Pennyworth growing, “then
you and he must be pretty good friends.”

“All same.”

“Well,” Merry went on, “I want you to go over to the
Delmghico Hotel to-morrow, Hop, and put in the day with
Penn. See if you can’t win him over to our side.”

“Can do,” said Hop; “to bling him back, plaps no can do.
Makee tly.”

“Anyhow,” put in Clancy, “you can watch Penn and see
that he doesn’t tie up with the other crowd.”

“That’s the idea,” said Frank.. “Stick to him, Hop, and
look out for that. Give him a good talking to. If any-
thing happens we ought to know, report here. You'd
better go to your room now, and get some sleep so you'll
be ready to put in a hard day to-morrow.”

“Allee light.”

Hop Wah unlocked the door and went out. Clancy fol-
lowed him and turned the key again. Then he began get-
ting out of his clothes and making ready for bed.

“What about that game with the Pirates?” he asked
gloomily. “Brezee is out of it, and that leaves our squad
with only eight men, counting Villum. We'll have to have
help from the outside.”

“T don’t want to worry about that,’ answered Frank.
“T guess we’ve got enough to fret us without hunting
around for anything else. If necessary, that game can be
called Off.” ‘

“Tt will have to be called off, or postponed. It was too
much to ask of us, anyhow—springing the match on our
crowd before we'd got ’em rounded up.”

Frank and Owen, that night, took turn about sleeping
and watching their prisoner. Bound as he was, Brezee
must have been mighty uncomfortable, but it would not
have been safe to remove the cords and allow him his
liberty.

Early next morning Frank left the room and hunted
up Rodno, Dill, and Villum. To them he explained what
had. happened during the night.

Rod continued to be dejected over the results of his
misunderstanding with Pennyworth; and there still re-
mained in his mind a latent desire to retire from the field
and go back to Juneau. Frank vetoed again, and in no
uncertain terms, such a move on Rod’s part.

“If it comes to a showdown between you and Penny-
worth,” said he, “you stay. and Pennyworth goes. That’s
flat.”

It was arranged that some one of the boys was to be
with Brezee constantly, first one going on watch and then
another. Clancy stayed in room 8 while Rod, Dill, Vil-
lum, and Merry went down to the dining room for break-
fast. When Merry got through, he brought up a tray
with a large meal for Clancy—enough so that the red-
headed chap could divide with Brezee.

Brezee was released in order to take his breakfast, but
Frank and his friends stood over him and threatened dire
things if he attempted to raise his voice above an ordinary
tone. Brezee was awed into silence, although he was still

defiant.
“You'll get the worst of this in the end,” he declared.
About nine o’clock a messenger came with a note for
Merry. The note was from Rufus Horton, and asked to
see the captain of Merriwell’s Athletes at once, on im-
portant business.

NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY.

  

“Here’s where the fat goes in the fire,’ commented
Clancy sadly. “Rufe has got wind of what’s going on, and
he'll put.a stop to it.”

“Keep your shirt on, Clan,” returned Merry, “and don’t
imagine things. I’ll see Horton at once, find out what’s
the matter, and then come back and report. Meantime,
rest-easy, and mind you take good care of Brezee.”

CHAPTER IX.
LATTIMER SHOWS HIS HAND.

As soon as Merry reached Horton’s house he was shown
at once into the library. Horton was there, and another
man was with him. This other man was a wiry individual,
of thirty-five or forty, with a thin, hatchet face and a
drooping black mustache. He appeared to be in something
of a temper.

“Ah, Merriwell!’”’ exclaimed Horton, in a tone that car-
ried a note of relief. “Mighty glad you could come at
once. I want you to meet Mr, Lattimer, of Trawlee. Mr.
Lattimer, as I told you, Chip, is the gentleman who is
organizing a rival team known as the Pirates.”

A cold chill ran up and down Merriwell’s spine. He
realized that, in spite of what he had done to keep Brezee
from sending a telegram to Trawlee, Lattimer had come
to Blyfield. Here, indeed, was a case of hard luck.
Merry’s only hope was that Hop Wah might be able to
keep Lattimer and Pennyworth apart.  _

Lattimer did not offer his hand. He merely nodded,
and measured Merriwell with a pair of keen gray eyes.

“What I want to know is,” burst out Lattimer, “what
have you and your crowd done with Chet Brezee?” ,

Lattimer was getting right down to bedrock, and his
goint-blank question rather took Merriwell aback. Horton
saw that Frank was at a loss, and made haste to intervene
and give him time to collect himself.

“I’ve been explaining to Lattimer,” said Horton, “that
Brezee came to me and said he would not join Lattimer’s
crowd, but preferred to go with us. The explanation does
not seem to satisfy him.”

“Not exactly, not ex-act-ly,” rapped out Lattimer, with
a black scowl. “Brezee is one of my men, and if you're
trying to get him away from me, by gad, I’ll raise a riot!
I'll teach you fellows to leave my athletes alone. There’s
a way, by thunder, there’s a way.”

“Lattimer says,” continued Horton calmly, “that he
missed Brezee from Trawlee, heard he was in Blyfield,
and came over here to find him. He went to the Del-
monico Hotel, and they told him there that Brezee was
staying at the place, but that he started for the railroad
station to send a telegram, last evening, and never came.
back. Lattimer insists that either 1 or you, Chip, knows
something about this mysterious disappearance of Bre-
zee’s. Of course,” drawled Horton, “Brezee has pledged
himself to us, and it is none of his business where he is.”

Lattimer’s eyes flashed. ;

“T’ll show you whether it’s any of my business or not!” |
he declared. “You talk about clean sport, when you can —

’

stoop to a low, underhand game of this kind! You-——”
% ; “ a
“Easy, there, Lattimer,” interrupted Horton, an edge to.

his voice.
that you'll be sorry for. Whatever we do, over here in
Blyfield, is clean and square. We don’t have to tell you~
our plans concerning Brezee ee. ‘you can prove that

{

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“You're liable to say something, in a minute, _

  
 

NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY. 1:

- you have a bigger intérest in the fellow than we have. |
say he has pledged himself to us.”
“That don’t count;’ insisted Lattimer.
“Why doesn’t it. court?”
“Because I’ve got a prior pledge from him, and it’s in
the form of a written agreement.”
The muscles tightened in Horton’s face, and a vagrant
gleam rose in his eyes.
“You'll have to show me, Lattimer,” said he. “If you've
: got a writing of that sort, why didn’t you show it before?”
¢ “T reckon that now is as geed a time as any,” snapped
.) Lattimer.
* He jammed a hand in his breast pocket, brought out a
| 4% folded paper, and flung it angrily down in front of Horton.
The latter looked it over carefully, then folded it up and
returned it.
a) “You're right, Lattimer,” said he. “This written agree
f ment antedates Brezee’s promise to me. That shows he
had no right to come here and make such a promise, and
he certainly knew at the time that he hadn’t the right. The
question is, why did he come? You say you missed him
- from Trawlee. Rather sudden, wasn’t it? Brezee has
_ been in Blyfield, ostensibly one of Merriwell’s Athletes,
for several days.. What caused you to wake up, this morn-

ing, and come at me in this savage manner? What's back

: of. nt?

In his anger, ‘inspired no doubt by his failure to find

B rezee at the Delmonico Hotel, Lattimer had gone rather
farther than he should.

“That’s my business,” he answered sourly, returning the
folded document to his pocket.

“Tt happens to be a little of mine, too. Now, I don’t
kriow the first thing about Brezee, and I’m pretty sure
Chip doesn’t.
probably has a reason for it. Hunt around, find him, and
* ‘take him home. I haven’t any objections.”
| ee “Just a minute, Mr. Horton,” put in Frank. “I do know
something about Brézee, and something about why he came
over here and agreed to be one of our ¢rowd when he

hadn’t any right to promise such a thing.”

-: Horton showed his surprise. Lattimer not only showed
| * surprise, but also a certain anxiety which it was impossible
for him to conceal.

“Well, well!’ murmured Horton: “This thing reaches
gather deeper than I thought. What’s back of this Brezee
business, Chip?”

“Mr. Lattimer is back of it,” said Merriwell, facing the
- Trawlee man squarely.

 

 

1 “Don’t you ring me in!” cried Lattimer angrily. “Don’t

nee go to lying about me, Merriwell.”

 

_ Frank flushed, and there was that in his eyes wiuelt
_ caused Horton to interfere again.

5 1 eave! out the hard words, Lattimer,” said he, “ontil
you find you have some excuse to use them. Explain this
thing, Chip,” he added to Frank.

ee know what I’m talking about, Horton,” went on
Frank, “Lattimer sent Brezee over here to pretend to
join our team just for the purpose of getting some of our
fellows to go over to the Pirates. He-—”

interrupted Lattimer furiously.

   

  

hd

“T’ve heard enough!’

   

    

      
 

of Merriwell’s stamp.
by. thunder!” ..
“What he says,”

He’s got’ to prove what he says,

remarked Horton, “is something that

   

If he wasn’t at the hotel last night, Brezee

 

had already taken: shape in ‘my mind since you. shéwed me
that written agreement, signed by Brezee.. It's reasonable
to suppose that Brezee had some ulterior purpose in view
by acting, as he did.”

“What you suppose isn’t any proof.”

“It furnishes a good groundwork. -for proof,
Chip:”

“Last night,’ continued Merriwell, “Brezee had a friend
of. Hop Wah’s send a note, requesting the Chinaman to
meet Brezee in the alley, back of the hotel, at eight-thirty.
Hop Wah kept the appointment. Brezee tried to talk him
into. joining Lattimer’s Pirates. I was close enough to
hear the talk.’ ;

“That will do!” fumed Lattimer, leaping to his feet. “It
was just before eight-thirty that Brezee started for the
railroad station to send a telegram. You know something
about. where he is, I’ll gamble, and you'll either produce
him) or youll have a hornets’ nest about your: ears.”
He strode to the door. Haking there, he faced about.
“There'll be no game to-morrow!” he snarled, “The Pi-

{??

rates refuse to play with such a bunch of crooks!

Go. on,

Before Horton could reply, Lattimer had slammed the.

door and was gone. .

“Good!” exclaimed Merriwell. “I’m glad that game is
off. It will give us a planke to straighten things out and
get ready for real business.”’ \

“What do you know about Brezee, Chip?” queried Hor-
ton gravely.

“T’ll havé'to begin at the beginning in order to explain
that,” said Frank.

The beginning lay on, the flyer that v was bringing Rodno,
Dill; Hop. Wah, and Pennyworth to Blyfield. Merry told
of the trouble between Rodno and Pennyworth, and how
it had looked like an “entering wedge” that ‘might have far-
reaching results if not’ vigorously dealt with. Then Merry
described his interview with the obstinate Pennyworth and
the sly Brezee in the Delmonico Hotel, finishing with the
talk in the alley between Brezee and the Chinaman, and

_with what had later happened to Brezee.

At first, Merry was inclined to doubt Horton’s feeling
in the matter. The Yale man, when the explaining was
done, had got to his feet and begun pacing up and down
the room. Finally he halted in front of Frank and dropped
a hand on his shoulder,

“Chip,” said he, with an approving smile, “you're a
corker. You did the only thing possible in the circum-
stances. .Stand pat. Keep Brezee where he is until you

find out whether you can, or cannot, bridge over the
trouble between Rodno and Pennyworth. If that’s impos-

' gible, let Brezee go and take. Pennyworth with him, It

will be a blow to lose Pennyworth, because he is one of
the best all-around amateur athletes we have in our squad.
I’ve been looking up the fellow, and that he is a crack
man there is no doubting. But he’s bullheaded, and maybe
you can’t do anything with him. Do what you can to
make peace in the ranks, and you can depend upon me to
see that Lattimer does not trouble you.” —
“Lattimer is an unprincipled cur,
Merry.

“I’ve felt that all along. This sharp taitice ki his won't
rae him anywhefe, in the long run, I think he'll hesitate,
too, before he publishes his scoundrelly work here in Bly-
field. He can bluster and threaten, but I don’t think he’ll
give us much to worry about. What bothers me most is

  

Horton!” declared.

   

 

 

    
     
       
     
     
   
   

 

       
       
    
       
     
  
 

this row between Rodno and Pennyworth. They both
seem to be highspirited, but perhaps Rodno would be all
right if Pennyworth would meet him halfway.”

“Sure, he would!” declared Frank, with conviction.

“Do you think Lattimer, with what work Brezee has. al-
ready done, can get a grip on Pennyworth?”

“He may, I don’t know about that. Hop Wah, though,
is a good friend of Pennyworth’s, and the Chinaman is
over at the Delmonico now with orders to stick to Penn
and keep him away from Lattimer. Hop is a clever fel-
low, and I believe he'll make Sood. He doesn’t: want to
see ete s One go with the Pirates, any more than the
rest of us.’

“Then, for the Srestit it is up to the Chinaman. Let
us hope he makes good. It’s pretty tough we have to have
such a hard-time getting our fellows together, but it’s the
way we conquer these difficulties that is going to make our
team worth while.”

“You think that I am handling the matter all right?”
asked Frank anxiously.

“You're handling it lke a real. captain,’ was the en-
thusiastic response. “With you to the fore, Chip, Mer-
riwell’s Athletes are going to do things. If you succeed
is hanging onto Pennyworth and Rodno both, I guess I’ll
have to put a feather in your cap,’ and Horton laughed
heartily.

When Frank left the house, although his difficulties were
still great, yet he faced them with more hope and confi-
dence thar ever.

CHAPTER X.
; FATE TAKES A HAND.

Merriwell’s report to Clancy and the rest of the fel-
lows in room 8 gave them all cause for congratulation.
Rufus Hoiton was on ‘their side, and was standing loyally
behind everything that had been done.

“T was foolish to have any doubts,” said Clancy. v1
might have known good old Rufe would back us up.”

“Har lines that Lattimer showed up, though,” re- -

marked Rodno.

“We've found him out without a doubt,” tuned up Billy
Dill, “and he’ll make no fuss to worry us—take it from
me!” ,

“T don’d like someding,” mourned Villum Kess.

“What it is, old Red Socks?” inquired Clancy, with mock
solicitude.

“Dot Hop Wah feller iss going aroundt mit himselluf
helluping oudt. Vat for you don’d let me hellup oudt
schust der same as him? You know I been a schmard
feller.” 4

“Mascots,” explained Clancy, “have to get off in one
corner and make a noise like a horseshoe, or a rabbit’s
foot. Peace, Villum. You did your part when Chip made
you the reception committee.”

“Anyvay,” said Villum, “I like dot Hop Wah. pedder as
nodding, aber I bed my life I can lick him mit vone handt
pehind my pack.” ©

“The question is, fellows,’ spoke up Merry, “will Latti-
mer find Penn and get him to sign one of those agreements
to-go with the Pirates? Or will Hop Wah be able to
prevent it? I wish I knew how things are going.”

_ “Suppose I gumshoe around and try to find out?” isug-
gested Clancy.

NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY.

 

Pickles-with you and send him back with news in case you
can't come yourself.”

Billy Dill was delighted with the opportunity to prove
useful, and he and Clancy left the hotel at once. Merry,
Rodno, and Villum remained in the room to keep Brezee
company.

Brezee could not talk, but he could hear.’ Evidently he
was. pleased to learn. that Lattimer had reached Blyfield
and had threatened to make things warm for Frank and
his friends. This seemed to put Brezee in a more com-
fortable frame of mind, and-he accepted his position with
better grace.

Noon came without bringing either Clancy or Dill. i
Merry and Rod went down to dinner, leaving Villum to
look after the prisoner. A tray of food was brought up
for Villum, and he divided it with Brezee.

“Lattimer will sign Penn for the Pirates,” exulted Bre-
zee, when the gag and the cords were removed to enable
him to eat. “I reckon I win out on part of this job, any- —
how.” ee

“Don’t begin to brag too soon,” cautioned Frank. \

“You can’t keep me here forever,” went on Brezee, “and
if Lattimer don’t land Penn to-day he’ll do it later. You're
clever, Chip Merriwell, but you’re not: clever enough to @
smooth out matters between’ Pennyworth and, Rodno.
Penn will never forget that Rodno called: him a/ thief.”

At this, Rodno’s face filled with self-reproach, although
there: was a gleam of temper and defiance in his ‘eyes.

“Not, a bad idea, Red,” said Frank. “You might take 4
i
3

 

 

  
  
  
  

—“It-was a fool thing I did-on that train,’ murmured =
Rodno, “but it can’t be helped now. If Pennyworth thinks | :
he’s going to make me get down on my knees and crawl, —

he’s mistaken,” ea

 
  
   

“He'll never be real satisfied,” safd Brezee, with an ugly
leer, “until he pounds you good and plenty. After that,
I reckon, he'll let you alone—and all the rest of Merriwell’s
Athletes.”

“Shut up,” put in Frank sharply, “and eat your dinner.”

Brezee, however, kept his tongue clattering between
mouthfus, and every word was nicely calculated to work
on Rodno’s temper. Frank was glad when the fellow was
through eating and the twisted handkerchief could be re-
placed. %

It was two o’clock in the afternoon when Billy Dill
presented himself to his friends in room 8. He was so
full of news that he hadn’t any time for rhymes.

“That Hop,” said Dill, when the door was closed and he
was sitting in a chair with the rest grouped expectantly
around him, “is the slickest Celestial that ever neDPEneS:
He is certainly all to the mustard.”

    
   
   
    
  
   
   
  
    
   
 
  
   
 
  

“I don’d tell you!” exclaimed Villum, with fine sarcasm.
“No feller mit crooked eyes is pedder as me, I can lick
dot Hop Wah mit vone handt——” sheer,
“Cut it, Villum!” broke in Frank impatiently,
Billy.” af
“Well, Lattimer’s at the ‘hotel, waiting for Pennyworth
to show up,” said Dill. .
“Where is he?”
“Why, he and Hop have been out on the deihtoaie links,
playing golf, ever since nine this morning!”
“How did you find that out?”
“A fellow from the academy who knows Clancy” ‘broke |
the news to him. Fellow’s name is Coddington and—" .
“Good old Nod!” muttered Frank. :

    
    
  

“Go on,

 
   
  
   
   
  
  
  
 

 

  
 

 

  

“Hop sent word by Coddington that he’ll keep Penn
away from the hotel as long as it’s light enough to play;
after that, they'll take supper at Nod’s eating club, where
they took dinner, and stroll back to the Delmonico and go
to bed about ten. Picture: Lattimer cooling his heels in
the office of the hotel and waiting for some one who won’t
“arrive.”

Billy Dill’s mirth was echoed by every one in the room,
with the exception, of course, of Chester Brezee.

“How did Clan happen to meet Coddington?” Frank
asked.

“Coddington was coming to Ge Borden House, but saw
Clancy and me in the street, watching the front of the
Delmonico. He gave us the news, and I trotted right
along with it.”

“Where is Clan now?”

“Gone to the links to get into the game, and, on the
side, tip Hop off as to how things are going.”

“Great!” cried Merriwell.

“But, Chip,” remarked Rod, “it doesn’t settle the main
' difficulty at all. What Hop’s doing is only a makeshift.
_ Sooner or later Lattimer is bound to get a crack at Penny-
worth.”

“We'll hope for the best, Rod.
thing to happen.”

_ “T don’t now, but\a fellow might as well hope for the
best while he’s expecting the worst, eh?”

I’m expecting some-

Supper time came around without bringing’ Clancy. The
usual maneuvers were carried out, and all but one of the
lads went down to the dining room, <A double portion of
_ food was brought up for the one who remained on guard,
and for Brezee.

The prisoner certainly had no cause to complain of the
treatment that was accorded him. Brezee, it was evi-
dent, still had bright anticipations regarding what Lattimer |
would accomplish.

“You can’t make Pennyworth a friend of Rodno’s,” he
declared, “and that’s what this whole game hinges on.
Take it from me, you fellows, Lattimer is going to hook
Penn, and you're having all your trouble for nothing.”

It was nearly ten o’clock when Clancy reached the hotel.
Chip was alone in room 8 with Brezee, the rest of the
boys having gone to bed. cet a was in great good humor
with himself.

“T suppose Billy told you where we were, Chip,” said
he. “Welly I stayed with Hop and Penn all the afternoon
and we slammed golf balls around the links until my
feet were sore and I was wobbly in the knees; then Cod
had us to supper, and after that over to the gym. , Let me
tell you, old man, that Penn is some athlete. He’s worth
the struggle, all right. A little after nine Hop, Penn, and
I started for the Delmonico. Hop has frozen on to Penn
and is going to sleep in Brezee’s bed in the same room
with him. As soon as they went into their hotel I came
on here.”

“Did you see anything of Lattimer, Red; ?” Merry asked.

“He wasn’t around the Delmonico when Hop and Penn
got there.”
“What does Penn think about the absence of Brezee?”
_. “He’s jall up in the air about it, and. don’t know what

to think. When you had your talk with him in the hotel

_ office, Chip, you said something to Penn about Brezee that’s
making him do a lot of thinking.”
A hopeful look crossed Frank’s face.

’

NEW TIP TOP WEERLY.-

eee

“Then he may come around and forget his grudge against
Rodno?” he asked.

Clancy grew gloomy at once.

“Never! Dll be hanged if I ever saw such a fellow
to nurse a grouch. He'll never be friends with Rod, and
all he’s thinking of now is giving him a whaling, first
chance he gets. What’s more, he swears he won’t stay on
the team if you keep Rodno. Hard lines, old man, but it
can’t be helped. Penn had the time of his life to-day, but
he didn’t feel so good over it that he softened any re-
garding Rodno. It’s a hopeless case. Hop argues with
Penn till you'd think the pidgin English would play out,
but it’s no good.”

From the bed where Brezee was lying came a sound like
a delighted chuckle... It was the best the prisoner could
do to show his joy over the remarks indulged in by
Clancy.

But fate was at work. Even then it was starting. Over
in the Delmonico a waste-paper basket stood by an old
fireplace in the office. The fireplace and the furnace in the
basement both used the same flue. Although the days were
fine and warm, yet the nights were chilly, and it was the
custom in the hotel to start a wood fire in the furnace at

sundown. This gave just enough heat to make the rooms
comfortable. The fireplace itself was defective and never
used.

A spark from below, caught in a momentary down-
draft, whisked out into the office: There was no one in
the room but the night clerk, and he was sleeping on a
lounge behind the counter. The wandering spark, by a fell
decree of chance, dropped into the waste-paper . basket.
Not until the fire had made considerable headway did the
smoke become thick enough to make the night clerk’s
breathing difficult and so arouse him. Then, frantically,
he telephoned an alarm and began rushing through the cor-
ridogs and arousing the sleeping guests.

The clang of a fire bell aroused Merry. He jumped up
to find Clancy already peering from a window. Some one
outside rushed past the Borden House yelling “Fire!
Fire!”

Clancy threw up the sash:

“Where's the fire?” he called excitedly.

“Delmonico Hotel,” came the answer.

“Great Scott!’ cried. Merry apprehensively. “I wonder
if it’s a bad fire, and if Hop and Penn are all right? Let’s
go and see.”

In a very few minutes, Merriwell, Clancy, Rodno, Dill,
and Villum were rushing out-of the Borden House and

making their way toward the other hotel.
@

CHAPTER XI.
A BIT OF HEROISM.

Blyfield was a small town and had no very effective
fire-fighting apparatus. A hand machine was at the scene
of the fire, and many willing workers had manned the
pumps. But it was plain’ to every one that the hotel build-
ing could not be saved. The fire had secured too much
headway before it was discovered. The firemen were con-
cehtrating their efforts on neighboring buildings, in order
to prevent the flames from spreading.

A number of half-cfad people were moving around aim-
lessly, mixing with the crowd, shivering, and watching the
Merriwell and his friends were looking for

fire fighters.

  

 
 

    

 

18 NEW

 

Hop Wah, and asking: every one who had been in the hotel
if the Chinese boy had been seen. -At last they found him.
He came staggering. but of a pall of black smoke, the féw
clothes he had on charred in places and his hair singed,
tossing his hands wildly.

“Hop! shouted Frank; leaping toward ‘him.
all right, old chap?”

“Penn!” chattered > Hop: wildly. »“Him allee> satne in
No can gettee; heap tly, but no can gettee!”

His words faded in a choking Frank: seized: him
and gave him a shake. ;

“How do you know Penn, is in. your
“How did youhappen to get’ out?
to be able: to get away, if you: could!”

“We tly gettee out togethel;” wailed: Hop.
alound, no can. makee bleathe, no can see.
allee same gone. No can findee. Whoosh!

can gettee.”’

“Where’s your room?’ demanded: F rite: “Show us. the
window of. your room, Hop! Pull yourself together, now,
and we'll see what we can do,”

Hop rubbed the smoke from his eyes with trembling fin-
gers, peered around, and then started back into the “black
pall ‘of vapor through which he ‘had just come. ©’

“Keep away!” roared one of the fire: fighters.
no place for anybody.”

“There’s some one still in the hotel!” answered Frank:

“Everybody's out,” was the answer.

3ut Merry preferred to’ trust Hop Wah. Villum and
Dill had jerked a ladder from one: of the fire company’s
wagons, and as Merry, Clancy, atid Rod rushed into: the
smoke at, Hop Wah’s heels, Villum ‘and Dill chased along
with the Jadder.

“Are you

loom!
sob.

room?” he. de-
manded. Penn. ought

“Smoke all
Bymby, Penn
Makee tly, no

“That's

The smoke was so thick it was possible to see only
when the wind broke up the rolling billows and flung them
aside. The heat, too, was furnacelike. Hop Wah, reeling
along through the murky gloom, suddenly came to a halt.
The vapor was fanned aside for a moment, and he pointed
upward to a window that gleamed ruddily with imprisoned
flame,

“You savvy window?” he gasped. “Him window of
loom—loom my havee with Penn—Penn allee same gone
up!”

Hop fell to his knees,
ing in his native tongue.

wringing his hands and chatter-

“Hoist
Now,

“Give us that ladder!” ordered Frank. sharply.
it! Keep at the foot, Villum, and don’t let it slip.
then, fellows, all together,’’

In spite of the sizzling ‘heat and the smoke which
shrouded the boys and almost blinded them, the ladder was
lifted into place beside the building. Merry jumped. to
the rungs. Rodno foll6wed him, and behind Rod came
‘Clancy. Up and up climbed the three, pushing steadily
nearer the hottest part of the fire. ;

A part of the roof fell with a sodden crash and a
shower of sparks and firebrands: soared upward into the
night sky. With a roar, the flames took fresh hold on
another part of the doomed structure, and the heat grew
more intense and the smoke thicker. .

Frank, puffing and panting, had reached, the top of the
ladder and the window pointed outygby Hop Wah. The
_ window was down, and hesdould not raise it. Hastily re-
moving his coat, he swathed it about his right hand and
arm and pounded in the glass with his fist.

PLP OEP

 

WEEKLY.

A rush of air, right off the fire, leaped out at him and
catight him full in the face. He dropped backward against
Rodtio.

“What's the matter with
and fearfil.

“V’m—l’m all right,’ Merry gasped.
here a minute till I get my breath.”

“Hold him, Clan!” cried Rod. “He's opened the way—
’m going past him and into the room.”

“You can’t!” clamored Clancy. “Don’t be a fool,
Good heavens, old man, you’ll be burned to a cinder!”

But Rod was determined. He had shed his coat and
thrown it over his head. The first spurt of flame and
smoke from the room was the worst. Frank had suffered
from that in smashing the window. Rod did not hesitate,
but crawled from the top of the ladder into the room. In
a second’s time he was lost to sight.

Clancy tried to pass Merriwell on the ladder. Merry,
however, gripped the rungs convulsively and would not give
way.

“I’m all right now,” he gasped.
there with Rod; if he Ands Penn he
alone. Maybe Rod himself will need help to get out.”

“lve got to go in

What Clancy answered’ was lost in another shock of fall- |

ing timbers and a second roaring rush of flame and smoke
skyward.
part,
of another. ‘

The. fire

There was no one anywhere near the boys.

fighters, believing that all the employees and guests were -

out of the hotel, had drawn to a spot out of harm’s way,
and were confining their energies to drenching the roofs
and sides of neighboring buildings. The gallant work that
was going on under the tottering wall of the doomed struc-
ture was seen by no one but those who were activ ely par-
ticipating in it.

Frank, hanging over the top of the ladder with shriveling-

heat fanning him in the face, peered into the roaring fur-
nace beyond the broken window. _He could see nothing of
Rodno, He shouted to the missing lad, but no answer
came back.

“The fire got him!” exclaimed Clancy,
face pallid and ghastly in the light of the flames. “Come
down, Chip! The wall is liable to fall at any moment
and——” ' .

But just then Merry uttered a loud cry. From the top
of the ladder he leaned in through the broken window
and took a form which was crowded out to him.

“Help, down there!” cried Clancy to those at the foot
p

of the ladder. “Come up here, Villum! Rod and Chip

have got Penn!”

Villum, despite his bulk, mounted promptly and swiftly.

Penn, limp and unconscious, was carefully lowered down
into the arms of Clancy and Villum, and they slowly de-
scended toward the foot of the ladder.

But Merry remained at the top. Rod had fished Penn
out of the flames, but it had taken every ounce of his
strength. Merry saw him stagger, and he would have

fallen backward had not Merry’s hand caught his shoulders:

and pulled him through the window. g
The air, hot enough outside but infinitely cooler than

the atmosphere Rod had been breathing, wrought a tonic —

Rod gasped and filled his lungs, and some of ‘his —

effect.
failing strength returned.

 

Chip?” bellowed Clancy, husky’

“Just let me hang

Rod!

can’t handle him

The building seemed to be falling in at every.

 

and one resounding crash came close upon the echoes |

FT ey

3 2

his upturned

 

 

 

 

 

   
    
     
   
  
  
  

    

    

     
 

 

 

 

 

 

   
 
 
   
  
  
   
 
      

ans

Merry planted his feet on the ladder and helped him

slowly downward. At the foot of the ladder Rod crumpled
into a helpless heap. Merry, with all his strength, laid
hold of him and dragged him clear of the smoke. Hardly
had this been accomplished, when the wall dropped out-
ward, scattering fire and ruin over the very spot where the
ladder had stood.

~ On a plot of turf, well out of harm’s way, the boys

lay panting and gasping. In his cap Billy Dill was bringing

water from a neighboring hydrant, and splashing it alter-
nately in the faces of Pennyworth and Rodno.

“How’s Rod?” asked Merry, starting up suddenly.

“His clothes are in pretty bad shape,’ answered Billy,
“but I guess Rod is all right. He just asked about you
and Penn.”

“How’s Penn?”

“T reckon he’ll come around in a minute—he’s showing
signs. But it was a tight squeak.”

“T yonder mit meinselluf,” ruminated Villum, “oof Penn
vill shdill be madt mit Rod afder now? Vonce in a vile

a fire gomes in der righdt blace, don’d it?”

CHAPTER XII.
WHAT THE FIRE DID.

Villum was right. Once in a while, by a weird decree
of chance, some terrible misfortune will happen and trail
a few blessings along in its wake.

The Delmonico Hotel was totally destroyed. Once the
flames got started, the structure went up in smoke like so
much tinder. . The proprietor, it was reported, had some
insurance, but not nearly enough to cover his loss. Thanks
to the energy of the fire fighters, the surrounding build-
ings were saved.

As Frank knelt beside Pennyworth, lifting his head and
splashing water in his face, some one hurried up to the
little group of youngsters and came to a halt.

“Heavens!” exclaimed a familiar voice. “Is, that you,
Chip § - \ ;

“Hello, Rufe!” cried Clancy. “Yes, that’s Chip. You've
run into quite a bunch of Merriwell’s Athletes.”

“What’s happened here?”

“Oh, nothing much, only Merry and Rod pulled Penny-
worth out of that burning hotel.”

“Pennyworth ?”

“Sure. That’s the fellow, on the ground there. Chip’s
helping to bring him around.”

Horton muttered to himself, then stood close, and,
the light of the flame, watched ner efforts at resusci-
tation.

Pennyworth had been overcome by the smoke. Rod had
found him lying on the floor of his room, just where he
had dropped when the black, syffocating fog had eddied
around him and Hop Wah.

In a few minutes the lad revived. His eyes opened, and
he stared up into Merriwell’s smoke-blackened face.

“Is—is that you, Merriwell?’ he asked.

“Sure thing, Penn,’ answered Merriwell cheerily.
“How’re you feeling?” '
~ “Pretty ragged, but I opine I’m coming a whole lot bet-
ter than I have any right to expect. You pulled me out?”

“T helped, but the fellow who got to the top of the ladder

after I lost my grip, and went in after you, was Neil
Rodno.”

NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY.

Something like a shiver ran through the cowboy.

“Rodno pulled me out?” he repeated.

Neil, sitting up on the ground just a little way beyond,
looked toward Penn.

“I did what little I could for you,” said he, “but all of
Merriwell’s Athletes took a hand in the rescue. You and
I would both have been in the fire if it hadn’t been for the
rest of our crowd.”

Pennyworth sat up weakly and drew a hand across his
eyes. “Tell me about it,” said he. .

Clancy told the story—and he made everybody out to
be a hero but Clancy. The red-headed chap got his due,
however, from Billy Dill.

When all was explained, Pennyworth sat silently with
the distant flames dancing around him in reflected gleams.
His eyes were on Rodno, and Rod met the look smilingly.
It was a gruesome smile, however, for Rod’s face was
streaked with grime.

“Boys,” said Horton, “I’m proud of Merriwell’s Ath-
letes. I didn’t dream that a near tragedy was going on
here, and it was only by chance that I happened to see
you. Strikes me that when you pull off a heroic piece of
work you don’t make much of a splurge about it. I don’t
believe that any one around here knows what happened.”

“One fellow tried to head us off,” said Merry. “He said
there wasn’t any one in the hotel. We had Hop Wah’s
word for it, though, and we knew that Penn was in
there.”

“Hop,” said Penn, turning his eyes from Rod to take
in the Celestial, “you’re a pretty good sort of a China-
man. I said that, I remember, when I pulled you out of
the stampede. Now, I reckon, I’ve got reason to say it
again. You're all right. As for Rodno——”

Penn’s eyes flashed back to Neil, and he hesitated.

“I’m wondering, Rodno,” he went on presently, “if
you're half as mad about wnat happened on that train as I
was.” :

“T don’t think so,” answered Rod, rubbing a burned spot
on the side of his face.

“Well, if you say so, we'll let this blaze burn up all
the bad feeling. If you want to be friends, why—shake!”

Rodno swooped down on the offered hand promptly and
cordially.

“Then, as I understand it,”
fellows will be on our team?”

“I’d be a pretty measly chump if I turned on Merriwell’s
Athletes after what they’ve done for me. Wouldn’t I?”

This from Penn was greeted with cheers.

“It’s all over, Chip,” breathed Horton in Frank’s ear.
“You fellows better hustle back to the hotel now and let
Brezee make his escape.” -

“The quicker the better,” said Frank. “You'll have to
go to the Borden House now, Penn,” he added, with a
laugh, turning to the cowboy.

“I’m willing,” was the response. “I’d have been better
off, I reckon, if I’d gone there right from the train.”

put in Horton, “both you

THE END,

“Frank Merriwell, Junior’s, Outfielder; or, Glory, of
McGlory,” is the title of the story that you will find in the
next issue of this weekly, No. 46, out June 14th. By mak-
ing a wonderful one-handed catch, John Glory, of Mc-
Glory, Texas, attracts Chip Merriwell’s attention. Chip
lets him join Merriwell’s Athletes on probation, Glory to

    

a ates a

 
NEW. TIP TOP

¢

organization if he
But there

become a member of the
does well in a baseball game with the Pirates.
is considerable mystery concerning McGlory’s
actions of a very questionable character—and the way they
are cleared up makes an absorbing story. Then there is
the ball game with the Pirates, and the big stake that it is

Don’t miss this number.

permanent

played for.

ey ee ent

The Billion-dollar Snapshot.

By BERTRAM LEBHAR.

SYNOPSIS OF PRECEDING CHAPTERS.

Frank Hawley, a staff photographer of the New York

Sentinel, is sent by the Sunday editor to get a picture of
the richest child in the world, Majorie Mallon, the ten-year-
— old daughter of a Wall Street magnate,
'. Because of her vast wealth, and from the fact that no
paper has ever succeeded in getting a photograph of her,
she is known in newspaper circles as the “Billion- dollar
Snapshot.”

BU tes at Newstead, where the Mallon place is, Haw-
ley finds it surrounded by a hedge and a high iron fence,
one guarded by many private detectives and watchmen.

CHAPTER IV,
THE SECOND ATTEMPT.

The camera man walked moodily back to the inn, and
spent the rest of the day, and a great part of the night,
trying to think out a plan that would enable him to get
past those guards.

A few minutes after midnight, as he lay awake in bed
thinking hard, an idea came to him—an idea which looked
so good that he was impatient for next morning to come
in order that he could proceed to carry it out.

Immediately after breakfast he went to the general store
in the village and purchased a piece of stout rope. He

had this wrapped in paper, and with this package under

one arm and his big camera in its paper wrapping under
the other he once more started to climb the steep paths
which led to Newstead Manor.

On his way there he found an old rusty horseshoe, Which
he put in his pocket. He was inclined to be superstitious,
and believed that a horseshoe was an emblem of luck;
but that was not the sole reason he pocketed that rusty
piece of metal. He intended to make practical use of it.

Hawley’s plan was to-scale the high iron fence sur-
rounding the Mallon estate by means of the rope. Once
on the other side of the bars, he would have no difficulty,
he told himself, in breaking his way through the thick
bushes and strolling through the grounds until he came
to the child.

Of course there was a chance that the latter might not
be on the grounds. She might be inside the house. Just
because she had been out chasing butterflies the previous
ite was no reason why she should be out this morning.

The camera man had to take this chance, however:

_ “After all,” he argued, “it is extremely likely that she
will be out of doors. No doubt her parents keep her out
in the open air as much as possible. And, anyway, even
if she’s in the house, I’m going to get her picture. Once
inside those grounds, I’m not going out until I get it.
lither I'll manage to hide myself somewhere on the prop-

”

actions—

of the dogs.

WEEKLY.

erty until she comes out, or I’ll break into the house and

get the snapshot and trust to luck to be able to make my.
escape -afterward.”

When he reached the crest of the hill on which New-
stead Manor was situated, Hawley proceeded to carry out
his scheme.

First he tied one end of the rope to the rusty horse-
Then he hurled the horseshoe over the top of the

shoe.
fence.

It was his intention to tie the other end of the rope
around his waist, and then, by grabbing the horseshoe
end, pulley fashion, to haul up himself and his camera.

He did not carry out this intention, however; for, as
soon as the horseshoe went over the fence and the rope
came in contact with the horizontal rail on top, the loud
clanging of an electric gong suddenly smote upon his ears.

Hawley realized immediately what had happened.

“Gee whiz!” he gasped. “I must have set off one of.
those confounded burglar alarms which the innkeeper told
me about. Foxy old Mallon, anticipating that somebody
might attempt to scale the fence with a rope or ladder, has
installed an electric device all along the top rail, which
rings a bell whenever it’s touched. That fellow does not
overlook a single point.”

The alarm still kept on ringing, and, in spite of the din
it made, Hawley could hear the barking of dogs and the
shouts of men inside the grounds. te.

Not having any desire to be torn to. pieces by savage
hounds, or even to be placed under arrest by private de-
tectives, the camera man picked up his camera and took :
to his heels.

Fortunately for him he had made his attempt to get into
the grounds at a point in the fence which was a consid-
erable distance away from the gate. This gave him a
good start upon his pursuers, both canine and human, who, |
not being able to climb the fence, had to go all the way
around to the entrance.

Nevertheless, Hawley knew that it would be folly to
attempt to get back to the village, a distance of five miles, .
so he made for a clump of woods a few hundred yards
away, hoping to be able to conceal himself there until it
would be safe to return to the inn.

As the path was all downhill, and the young ttialog!
rapher, being as lithe and sinewy as an Indian, could
run like a deer, he managed to reach these woods hefore
his pursuers had dashed out of the lodge gates.

'“T guess I’m safe,” he panted, as he strained his ears in
vain for any indication that he was being followed. “They
think that I have gone right on down to the village and
are heading for there.” He chuckled at the ease with
which he had outwitted them.

Suddenly, however, the smile froze upon his lips.

“Gee whiz!” he exclaimed, in deep dismay. “That rope!
Careless fool that I am, I left it dangling from the fence. —
Those fellows will be sure to discover it; and if they’ve
got any brains at all they'll make inquiries at the general —
store in the village and learn that it was I who bought it. —
I guess I'll have to leave Newstead, It won’t be safe to 4
remain in these parts now.” ‘

If the detectives had done as Hayley apprehended, it i

would have been bad enough ; but they did much worse.

They seized the rope eagerly and held it to the tigate
The keen-scented creatures sniffed at it:
and then started off unerringly on the trail of the man >

 
 

NEW

who had left it the detectives following in their
wake. :

Pretty soon the camera man, with a gasp of horror,
heard the barking of the dogs and the shouts of their

human companions coming nearer to his hid-
ing place.

“Good heavens!” he muttered. “I was congratulating
myself too soon. They've found me, after all.”

Realizing that if he stayed on the ground he stood an
excellent chance of being torn to pieces by the hounds, he
decided to climb a tree. In spite of his danger, however,
he took time to thrust his beloved camera into some dense
bushes, hoping thus to be able to save it, before he made
a frantic leap for a low, overhanging branch which
swayed a few feet above his head.

He caught the branch with both hands and drew himself
up just as the dogs burst through the bushes and sur-
rounded the tree, snarling and showing their fangs in
baffled fury. os

It was not long before Mr. Mallon’s detectives arrived
on the scene.. There were six of them, all sturdy, -deter-
mined-looking fellows, each of whom carried a six-shooter
in his hand.

They pointed their revolvers at the young camera man
up in the tree.

_ “Better come right down,” they advised him gruffly.
“If you don’t hurry, we'll put daylight through you.”

“Call off those dogs, and I’ll come down,” retorted Haw-
ley. “I’d sooner take a chance of being hit by your bul-
lets than placing myself within reach of those brutes.”

“Aw, they won’t hurt you,” said one of the men. “Here,
Rover, keep still, Down there, Binkie! Quiet, Prince,
old fellow. It’s all right.”

Reassured by his voice, the dogs ceased their snarls, and
Hawley came down from the tree.

there,

and nearer

”

As his feet touched the ground, the muzzles of six re-
volvers were pressed against various parts of his anatomy.

“Throw up your hands, young feller, until we’ve searched
you,” commanded one of the private detectives. “We're
taking no chances with a desperate character like you.”
Hawley obediently raised his arms above his head, while
his captors went through his pockets in search of con-
_cealed weapons. One of the first articles they extracted
- was the kodak he.carried.

“What's

“Ah!” exclaimed one of the men excitedly.
this ?”
“A camera, of course,” retorted t Hawley
“What do you suppose it is—a grand piano?”
“Now, don’t get fresh, young feller. It ain’t goin’ to
do you any good. I suppose you're carryin’ this thing for
a bluff, eh?” ;
“Bluff?” repeated the camera man, with a puzzled eek
“How do-you mean?”

sullenly.

“You'd like to make us believe that you’re a photogra-
d as to take some pictures, wouldn’t ‘you? Well, we know
better. We're onto your game, all right.”

“Are you? What do you suppose my game is?”

ances don’t suppose, “we know.

”

was the sneering retort;

owre a darned kidnaper, and if you could have got away
You

: with it, you was goin’ to steal little Miss Majorie.
q can't pat: ra Ns

TIP TOP WEEKLY.

CHAPTER V.

FACE ’TO BACE.,

After they had finished searching him, the detectives
restored their weapons to their hip pockets and commanded
their prisoner to march.

“Where are you taking me?”
ously. “Straight to the lockup?”

“No,” replied one of the detectives. “Plenty of time for
that later on. We're goin’ to take you to the house first,
so that the boss can have a look at you.”

“The boss? Do you mean Mr. Mallon. himself?”

“Yes; no doubt he’ll be curious to see what kind of a
lookin’ feller it is that wants to kidnap his daughter.”

“Oh, ‘cut that out,” protested Hawley indignantly. “I
don’t want to steal his daughter. I’m no kidnaper. I’m a
newspaper photographer from New York.”

Seeing that he was “up against it,” as he termed it, and
that he really stood a good chance of being sent to jail for
attempted child stealing, unless he succeeded in convinc-
ing his captors of his innocence of any such intention,
Hawley had decided to tell the whole truth.

His assertion that he was a newspaper photographer was
received with derision by the private detectives, however.

“Tell that to Sweeney,” they jeered. “You can’t fool us
as easy as all that.”

The camera man shrugged his shoulders. He told him-
self that it was no use arguing with these men. He would
keep his temper, and remain silent until he was brought
into the presence of Mr. E. H. Mallon. No doubt he
would be able to convince the millionaire of his innocence
of any wrongdoing, except an attempt to take photographs
without permission.

As the little procession reached the lodge gates, the six
detectives grouped around Hawley, the dogs running
around everybody and barking triumphantly. The guards
at the gates stared curiously at the prisoner.

“Why,” exclaimed one, “it’s the same young feller that
was here yesterday tryin’ to bluff his way past us. What
a determined desperado he must be.”

“Yes,” declared the other gatekeeper, “and he said then

that he was a newspaper reporter from New York, and

inquired the latter curi-

‘that he’d come to see the boss about an interview on the

Wall Street situation.”

“And now he says he’s a newspaper photographer, and
that he was climbin’ over the fence to take some snap-
shots,” sneered one of Hawley’s captors. “He seems to be
a little in doubt as to just what he is.”

“We'll soon find out who he is, all right,’ declared an-
other one of the detectives confidently. “I'll bet he’s in
the New York rogues’ gallery, and that he’s got a record
as long as my arm.”

Hawley laughed good-naturedly.

“Tf you find my picture in the rogues’ gallery, my
friend, I’ll make you a present of a new suit,” he said.

“Tf we find it there we'll make you a present of a new
suit,” was the grim retort.
across it.”

The other detectives laughed noisily at their chiciicpdiae
witticism as the party proceeded up the driveway toward aety
the house. :

As they neared the house, a pretty ten-year-old girl, with
golden hair, which aoe loosely over her shoulders, ran to”
meet them.

“Ts that the man “who was trying to get over the fence 2”

 

“A light suit with pretty stress rae
22
she inquired, her eyes wide with curiosity as’she stared at
the prisoner.

“Yes, Miss Majorie,” answered one of the ee
touching his hat respectfully.

The camera fiend sighed dismally. It almost broke his
heart to think that here he was face to face with the Bil-
lion-dollar Snapshot, and yet totally unable to take her
picture.

If the kodak had been in his coat pocket, the chances
are that he would have made a desperate attempt to get a
snapshot right then, even though he was surrounded by
six stalwart men all armed with revolvers. But, alas!
the detective who had taken the pocket camera from him
when he searched him, had not returned it to him. It
now reposed in the fellow’s pocket. Hawley realized that
it would be madness to endeavor to get it away from him.

“Why was he trying to get over the fence?” inquired the:

little girl. “He doesn’t look like a robber.”

“You can’t go by looks, miss,” replied one of them.
They did not tell her that they suspected their prisoner
of being a would-be kidnaper, for they did not wish to
alarm her.

“What were you going to do if you had managed to
get over the fence without setting off one of papa’s
alarms?” asked the child, addressing Hawley fearlessly.

“IT was going to take your photograph, Miss Majorie,”
replied the camera man; and he had the grace to feel a
little ashamed of his mission as he met the little girl’s
frank gaze.

“Why?” she demanded, with a puzzled frown.
were you going to do with it?”

' “Publish it in a newspaper,” he answered.

“But my papa and mamma don’t want my picture put
in newspapers,” she protested. “Didn’t you know that?”

“Yes, I knew that,” answered Hawley, with a grim
smile. “That is why I tried to get over the fence, my
dear Miss Majorie, instead of coming in by the front gate.”

‘The child laughed merrily. “You certainly did go to a
lot of trouble just to get my picture, didn’t-you?” she said.
“IT am sorry, for your sake, that. you did not succeed. I,
myself, wouldn’t mind at all letting you take my photo-
graph if papa and mamma didn’t object so strongly. I
think it must be jolly fun to have one’s portrait published
in a newspaper.”

Hawley was very glad to learn that she felt that way
about it,

“Tf ever I get a chance to meet her again when I’ve got
my camera with me, I’ll be able to persuade her to pose
for me without much trouble,” he said to himself joyfully.
“There won't be any danger of her crying out and giving
the alarm or trying to dodge the camera.”

“What

CHAPTER VI,
E, H. MALLON.

_ Mr. E. H. Mallon glared at his detectives’ captive when
the latter was brought into the library.
“Who are you, sir?” he demanded sternly.
“My name is Frank Hawley, and I am a photographer
on the staff of the New York Sentinel.”
“Humph! And why were you trying to climb over my
fence?”
“To be perfectly candid with you, sir, I was trying to
get a snapshot of your daughter for our Sunday edition.”
The millionaire’s face flushed angrily.

NEW.) -TEP: TOP, WEERLY:

“That would be outrageous enough, even if it were
true,” he snapped. “But the very fact that you’ are so
ready to admit it makes me suspect that you had a much
more sinister motive. How do I know that you did not
try to enter my grounds with the object of trying to kidnap
my daughter?”

“T swear to you, Mr. Mallon, that I had no such inten-
tion. You can telegraph or telephone to the Sunday editor
of the Sentinel, and see if he doesn’t corroborate my state-
ment that I was sent by him to Newstead to get your
daughter’s picture.”

“Humph!” snorted the financier, his keen eyes fastened
searchingly upon the camera man’s clean-cut, honest-look-
ing face. Then he turned to the detectives. “Did this
young man have a camera with him when you caught him?”
he asked.

“Yes, sir,’ replied the man who had confiscated Haw-
ley’s kodak, producing that article. “We found this in his
coat pocket, sir; butghe probably put it there for a stall.
We feel sure, sir, that he ain’t no newspaper photographer.
He’s a.kidnaper, all right.”

The millionaire shook his head.

“No, I think not. I am inclined to believe that he is
telling the truth. I am a pretty good judge of faces, and
this young man doesn’t look like the kind of fellow who
would steal a child.”

Hawley\started to thank’him for this compliment, but Mr.
Mallon cut him short with an angry gesture.

“Holdson, there, young man,” he snapped. “You needn’t
look so relieved. Jail stares you in the face, just the same.
Even if you did not come here to steal my daughter, by
your own admission you came to take her picture without
permission, and I can send you to prison for trespass.”

“I wish you would, sir,” replied the camera man, with
well-feigned eagerness. “You would really be doing me
a great favor if you would have me committed to jail.”

“What!” gasped the Wall Street magnate, unablé to
conceal his astonishment at these extraordinary words.
“What do you mean by that?”

“Let me explain, sir,” said the young hypocrite, very po-
litely and with an air of great candor.
sent out here to Newstead expressly to get that snapshot
of your daughter. If I return to the Sentinel office empty-
handed, the Sunday editor in all probability won’t believe
that I tried very hard, and I shall get fired for not mak-
ing good. They are awfully severe in newspaper offices,

you know.

“But if I can send word to my editor that I am locked ~

up in jail here for getting caught in a daring attempt to
get that picture, he’ll realize, then, that I did my best, and,

instead of getting fifed when I get out of jail and return

to. New York, I’ll probably have my antes raised as a re-
ward for 1 miy enterprise.

“Therefore, I ask you, sir,” he went on pleadingly, “to

do me the favor of having me sent to jail for a few som

days.”

“You see, I was -

Smart as he was at seeing through the ids of the most _

cunning minds of Wall Street, old Mallon fell for this

artful ruse as unsuspectingly as the’ most innocent lamb |

that had ever been fleeced in the stock market.

camera man. “I'll do nothing of the kind, sir,” he shouted.
“Do you think I’m going to assist you to make a martyr

of yourself? Not much! I am very glad that you were |

His face turned red with rage, and he scowled at the

 
NEW. TIP
fool enough to tell me this. I was going to send
jail—but now I won't.”

“Please, please do, sit,’ pleaded Hawley
“It is the only way I can hope to save my job.”

“What do I care about your job?” was the indignant
retort. “I hope you lose it. It will serve you right.” \ The

you to

audaciously:

millionaire turned to the detective who held the kodak
in his hand,

“Give me that camera,” he commanded.

The man handed it to him, and old Mallon placed it on
the floor and proceeded to dance on it with both feet until
Then he threw it into a

it was smashed beyond hope,
waste-paper basket.

“Now take this young rascal and kick him out of the
front gate,” he savagely instructed his employee; “and if
any of you catch him on the estate again—shoot him, The
law gives us the right to shoot down trespassers... Don’t
bother to arrest him, since we know now that throwing
him into jail would only be an accommodation to him.
The next time he sets foot on my property, men, don’t
hesitate to use your revolvers.”

CHAPTER VII.

A NEW SCHEME.

Hawley limped painfully as he walked down the dusty

_ country road which led from Newstead to the village. The

reason that he limped was that Mr. Mallon’s detectives

had construed literally their employer’s order to kick him
_off the estate, and had made a football of him.

But sore though he was in body, the spirit of the young ~

camera man remained undaunted. He was not at all
willing to admit yet that he was hopelessly defeated—no,
_ sit, not while he still had his liberty and the free use of
his arms and legs, and, best of all, that fertile brain of
(Aish:

Even the millionaire’s grim warning that if he were
caught on the estate again he would receive a souvenir
in the form of a bullet, or maybe several bullets, did not
cause him to decide to take the first train back to New
York. Although he didn’t entertain any doubts as to the
fidelity with which the detectives would carry out their

nstructions to shoot, if he gave them a chance, he was,
vertheless, fully determined to land that snapshot before

he left Newstead.
_ “There must be a way,” he muttered to himself as he
mped along the road. “It’s simply a case of finding it,
and I’m going to keep right on trying until I succeed. Now

i that I know that the little girl herself won’t object vio-
ently to being photographed, if ever I can get my camera |

focused on her, I feel greatly encouraged. Fe
As soon as he came to a bend in the road, wich hid
nim from the view of anybody who might have been
wal ching him from the lodge gates of the manor, he left
he path leading to the village and ‘proceeded as rapidly as
ossible toward the clump of woods in which he had re-
éntly and vainly sought to hide from his pursuers.
‘Here, without much difficulty, he found the bushes in
vi ch he had hidden his large camera, and was relieved
nd that it was still there.
e hugged it to his breast as affectionately as if it had
een a living thing, for he loved it as a virtuoso loves his
n, a smoker his old brier pipe, or a shepherd his dog. .
‘Tm mighty glad that it wasn’t you that old Mallon
nped on with both feet,” he said, chuckling. “I can

tb

WEEKLY. 23

little kodak, but I’d have hated like
the dickens to have him smash you to smithereens.”

Having recovered his camera, Hawley returned leisurely
to the village and went. to his hotel, where for several
hours hé.sat in*~his ‘room gazing out of the window at
the white turrets of Newstead Manor, which showed above
the treetops, and cudgeling his brains for an effective
means of turning defeat into victory.

The scheme of sailing over E. H. Mallon’s estate in
a dirigible balloon occurred to him, and he gave it serious
consideration,

“I feel pretty sure that it could be done,” he said to
himself,. “From the car of the balloon I could focus my
camera and get a snapshot of the child as she stood looking
up at the airship. Of course, she would look up at the air-
ship. Nobody would let a dirigible balloon pass over their
heads without looking at it; and, with my camera pointing
straight down at her upturned face, I ought to be able to
get a dandy picture of her.”

There was one obstacle, however, to the carrying out
of this highly original and ingenious plan, and that was
the fact that ra el didn’t happen to have a dirigible
balloon,

“T suppose I could return to New: York and hire one,’
he muttered, “but it would cost-an awful lot of money—
more probably, than the Sentinel would be willing to spend.
If I can’t find any other way of getting that picture, how-
ever, I’ll put the proposition up to the Sunday editor, and
see if he’s willing to go to the expense of hiring an air-
ship.”

Another plan which entered the camera man’s mind was
to try to bribe one of the Mallon household to take the
picture for him.

“With a hundred-dollar bill, I ought to tempt one of
the servants to smuggle in a small camera and take a snap-
shot of little Majorie without her knowledge,” he said to
himself. “I guess the Sunday editor wouldn’t mind going
as high as a hundred and twenty-five dollars for a picture
—a hundred for the picture and twenty-five for a new
pocket kodak to take it with. I could get him to send me
the money by wire.”

stand the loss of the

This scheme struck him as being such a likely one he
decided to carry it out. He went downstairs to the office
of the hotel and got into conversation with the proprietor.

“Do any of the people employed at Newstead Manor
ever come down here to the village?” he inquired,

“Oh, yes, quite often. They come here to buy things
and to-call for letters and such at the post office,” replied
the hotel keeper. “There goes one past the door now.
That is Mr. Cox, Mr. Mallon’s valet.”

“Oh, yes,’ said Hawley, glancing through the glass
panel of the front door at a young man who was hurrying
up the street. “Well, I guess I’ll go out and take a little
stroll so as to work up an appetite for dinner.”

He stepped leisutely toward the door, but as soon i

he reached it his pace quickened, and he hastened up the —

street after the valet of Mr. E. H, Mallon, with the inten-
tion of overtaking him and striking up an seuyenatane
with him. .

The valet entered the local Western Union ‘elem
office, and Hawley stepped inside, too, just as the former
was saying to the man behind the counter, “Mr. Mallon
wants this sent off immediately, please.”

The gray-haired Bperaee put on his spectacles and Sead

 
NEW. TIP

the message written on the yellow telegram form which the
valet had handed to him. Being a‘careful: man, he read
each word ‘aloud so as to make sure that he understood
them all right.

“Doctor Thomas Jinks,” he read, “75 West Fortieth
Street, New York City. Please come at once. Will pay
all expenses. E. H. Matton.”

“Somebody sick up at the manor?” inquired the operator
solicitously.

“Yes. It’s old Briggs, the gardener,” replied the valet.
“He’s laid up with rheumatism. The local doctor don’t
seem to be able to do anything for him, so the master
is sending for a big New York specialist... They think
the world of Briggs up at the manor, you know. He’s
been with the family for many years. Be sure that mes-
sage is sent right away, won’t you?”

“T’ll put it on the wire immediately,”
promised him, and the valet went out.

Hawley did not follow him. He no longer desired to
make the man’s acquaintance, for he had suddenly de-
cided to abandon his plan to bribe one of the Mallon
household to take a snapshot of the “Billion-dollar Kid.”

Another scheme had rapidly taken shape in his mind as
he stood there listening to the old telegrapher’s repetition
of E. H. Mallon’s message to the New York specialist.
It was a scheme so daring, and with the chances of suc-
cess so much against it, that only a reckless young dare-
devil like the camera man would ever have thought
of it.

Hawley, however, regarded it as an inspiration, and be-
came quite enthusiastic about it.

“It ought to work,” he said to himself.
trying, anyway. Yes—I’m going to do it.”
_ He wrote on a telegram pad the following message. to
the Sunday editor of the Sentinel:

the old operator

“It’s well worth

“No success yet, but prospects promising, Please wire
me hundred dollars immediately. Don’t delay. Will ex-
plain later. HaAw_tey.”

“Please send ‘this right off,” he said to the operator.
“By the way, old fellow, could you tell me where I’ll find
the nearest wig maker?”

“Wig maker!” repeated the old man, looking at the
inquirer suspiciously. “There ain’t no such thing in New-
stead, and I guess you ain’t likely to find one this side of
Albany. What do you want a wig maker for, anyway,
young feller?” ,

“It’s my old grandfather’s birthday. He’s as bald as
an owl, and I want to send him a nice gray wig for a
present,” replied the camera man without batting an eye-
‘lid.

“Waal, now, young feller, that’s what I call real nice
of you,” said the old telegrapher innocently, as he sat
_ down at his key to transmit the ‘two messages to New
York.

CHAPTER VIII.
“DOCTOR JINKS, FROM NEW YORK.”

The hundred dollars which Hawley had requested of the
Sunday editor of the Sentinel came promptly by wire. As
soon as he had converted the telegraphic money order

LOP (| WEBKLY

into réady cash, the camera man took train for Albany,
the nearest big city to Newstead.

Arrived at Albany, he proceeded to make several: pur-
chases. First, he visited a camera store, and bought a
new pocket kodak to replace the one which the irate Mr.
Mallon had jumped on.

In the same store he also pufchased a physician’s leather
bag and a variety of surgical instruments and medical ap-
pliances. Then he went to a wig maker and bought a
false beard and a wig to match.

His next step was to supply himself with a ehOate: high
silk hat and a long black overcoat.

There wasn’t anything left of his hundred-dollar bill
by the time he had finished his shopping, but he did: not
mind that. He knew that if he landed that snapshot, his
itemized expense bill would be accepted by the Sunday
editor of the Sentinel without a murmur—and he felt
confident that these preparations would surely result in his
obtaining the photograph of little Miss Majorie Mallon.

His confidence increased when he had glanced, at him-
self in a mirror, after donning the wig and false beard,
the high silk hat and the long black overcoat.

“Perfect,” he said to himself joyously. “I look just
like a professor at a medical college. I’d pass for a
genuine sawbones anywhere.”

For the purpose of making this change in his appearance,
he hired a room in a cheap Albany hotel. He occupied
this room for about six minutes—just long enough to
thus disguise himself—and then he stepped out, carrying his
professional-looking black bag in his right hand and took
the train back to Newstead.

When he alighted at the Newstead station, he found a
hackman waiting outside, and, climbiyg into his rig, he or-
dered him to drive to Newstead Manor with as much speed
as possible.

At the lodge gates of the Mallon estate the vehicle
was. halted by the same two guards who had prevented
Hawley from entering the grounds the previous day,

They stared at him now, i leche without the slightest
sign of recognition.

“What is.it you wish, sir?” Ha clisad one of them, very
politely. :

“T. am expected at the manor,”
man smoothly.
needs my professional services.”

“Oh, are you Doctor Jinks, from New. York, sir?” in-
quired the other guard.

“That is my name, my good fellow,”
with much condescension.

Without another word, the man swung the big, wrought- |
iron gates wide open to allow the rig to enter, for they had
been notified that the great specialist from New York was
expected.

As the vehicle in which he was seated passed. through’ —
the wide gateway and moved up the asphalted carriage

replied the camera

replied Hawley,

drive toward the house, the camera man heaved a great |

sigh of relief and satisfaction.

At last he was safely past those baffling gates and on

the forbidden grounds. At last success, seemed to be
within his grasp. Provided little Miss Majorie Mallon was —

somewhere on those grounds, he would be “an awful dub,” —

he told himself, if he did not now succeed in snapshoting
her with the excellent kodak in his coat pocket. i

Hawley had no intention of going right on up to the

 

“There is somebody there, I believe, who ;
  

    

 

c.

. house and treating Briggs’ rheumatism. He meant to leave
that task to the real Doctor Jinks when the latter arrived.
His idea was to order the driver to bring the rig to a halt
as soon as they had turned the bend in the carriage drive
and were out of sight of the man at the gate. Then he
. intended to alight» from the vehicle and go searching
around the grounds until he came across the little girl
whose picture he desired to take.

The false beard, the wig, the high hat, long black over-
coat, and the physician’s black leather bag had all been pur-
chased merely with the object of enabling him to get
past those gates and into the grounds and safely out
again after he had taken the picture.

Luck seemed to be with him, for, as the vehicle neared
-the turn in the road, his ears caught the sound of a child’s
merry laughter.

“The Billion-dollar Snapshot,” he muttered to himself
excitedly. “Now for the picture. I’ll be able to take it
without getting out of the rig, I guess.”

His hand went into his coat pocket and eagerly grasped
the camera as the vehicle turned the curve and little
Majorie Mallon came into view.

She was standing on the grass near the stead wae directly
facing him. The pose was perfect; the sun was just right.
If the camera man could have taken a snapshot then the
chances are that it would have been a very good one.

But Hawley did not take a snapshot. He did not even
draw the kodak out of his pocket. He did not dare to do
so; for to his great disappointment and dismay he discov-
ered that the child was not alone. Her father was stand-
ing at her side, his arm around her shoulders. —

The old gentleman was looking straight at Hawley. The
latter knew that Mr. Mallon’s keen eyes would be sure
to detect what he was about if he tried to take a picture.

“Darn the luck!” he muttered to himself.

He was half tempted to go ahead and take the picture,
. anyway—to pull out his camera and snapshot the little

girl right in old Mallon’s face, and then make a wild
_ dash to escape:

    
 

    
   
  
  
   
  
  
   
   
   
  
 
 
   
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  

_ He realized, however, that such a desperate step would
be almost sure to fail. He would be caught, and camera
and negative destroyed. It would be much better to wait
a little while in the hope that the millionaire might turn
his back for a second and give him a chance to do the
trick without being detected.

  
   
  
  
  
  

For once the camera fiend listened to the voice of
prudence and allowed the kodak to remain in his coat
pocket.

   
 

_ Mr. Mallon, seeing a tall, high-hatted, bearded stranger
seated in the rig, which had come to a stop, stepped for-
: ward eagerly, a cordial smile upon his lean face.

  
   
  

~“You are Doctor Jinks, I presume?” he said, holding out
his hand to Hawley. ;
“Yes,” replied the camera man, inwardly congratulating
himself upon the pleasant discovery that the great finan-
cier did not know the real New York specialist even ‘by
sight, which was a greater piece of luck than he had
dared to hope for.

~“T am pleased to meet you, doctor,” said Mr. Mallon

 
 
   
  
  

     
    
       
    
     
      
     
     
     
   

  

  

mobile to meet you at the train. I intended to do so; but
. the fact is we did not expect you to arrive oa so soon.
You are “certainly prompt.”

eT started immediately upon receipt of your ie

-genially. “I must apologize for not having had my auto-

NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY. ao

sir, and I was fortunate enough to catch the fast ex-
‘press,” explained: Hawley smoothly.

“Well, I am very glad that you did, for Briggs has been
awaiting your arrival with great impatience. The poor
fellow is suffering terribly: from’ rheumatism, and our
local’ physician ‘appears to be unable to give him the
slightest relief. I hope you will be able to cure him, doc-
tor. He is one of my employees, but he has been with us
for such a long time that we almost regard him as one of
the family.”

“I shall-do my best, sir,’ replied the camera man mod-
estly.

“Gee whiz!” he said to himself in dismay. “It looks as
if I'll have to go the limit now. There doesn’t seem to
be any way of backing out. I'll have to go to the house
and make a bluff at treating poor Briggs. Hope I’ll be
able to get away with it.”

Mr. Mallon’s next. words greatly increased the pseudo
physician’s trepidation. -

“You'll find Doctor Clarke up there now, I believe,”
said the millionaire.

“Doctor Clarke?” repeated the camera man fearfully.

“Yes, he’s our local physician, you know. He’s waiting
for you to’ come and advise him. He has great faith
in your ability, doctor. It was he who advised us to’ send
for you.”” ;

TO BE CONTINUED

nn AG

FROM ONE CELL TO THE OTHER.

Toward the end of last year four prisoners confined
in Usk jail, Wales, plotted to gain their freedom.

Their idea was to attack the first warder who entered
one of their cells with a leg of the cell table, capture his
ward keys, then that the escaping prisoner should liberate
his comrades. The warder in the gate lodge was next to
be overpowered, and after that the governor was to be
chained to the inside of the gate.

The whole plot, with the date for its accomplishment,
was actually in writing, and as Usk prison is a very
small one, and as three of the men were desperate char-
acters, it would probably have succeeded had not one of
the conspirators hung back at the very last moment and
proceeded to give the whole affair away.

The very first thing that will occur to the reader, is,
how on earth did these convicts manage to plot together?

As every one knows, talking is strictly prohibited in
any prison, while the possession of pen or pencil, or any
writing materials except a slate is looked upon as a most
serious offense. Yet here we have four men in separate
cells all in constant communication one with another and
with the details of their plot actually written out in full.

How did they work it?

Three of the men were appealing against their sentences,
and were given pen and ink to write their appeals. Al-
though the writing materials were.taken away at once, yet
one of the lags had already made an inkpot out of cob-
bler’s wax used’in making mail bags, and hidden some
ink in it. A pen was easily made of a feather, and blank
sheets extracted from library books and suchlike were the
paper. :

The “stiffs,” or messages, were exchanged in chapel,
hidden inside hymn books.

There is no form of communication against which
prison officers have to be more carefully on their guard

/

    
     
     
     
       
   
 
26 NEW . TIP

than the “stiff,” or secret letter, and any man in
cell such a letter is found is certain to be punished.

Any morsel of paper is used, and in spite of the vigilance
of warders scraps of paper are always to be had by any
man who wants them.

The outside public have an idea that prisoners communi-
cate with one another by codes of knocks on the walls
of their cells.

The old French convicts used: to do something of this
sort, and according to Prince Kropotkin, modern Russian
prisoners immured in fortresses have such methods of
communication.

whose

But in British prisons knockings are out of date, and

to try the Morse code
It is at work and at

if any one were foolish enough
he would very soon be found out.

exercise that the men talk to one another.

Debtors
at exercise,
stages; but the ordinary lag is by prison rule forbidden to

and first-class prisoners are allowed to converse
and so are convicts who reach the highest

do so.

This rule,
dead letter.

Whether in the shops or at outdoor labor it is impos-
sible to enforce it. The first accomplishment which a man
learns in prison is to’ speak without moving his lips.

News travels through a prison as; quickly as in-the: free

however, is to all intents and purposes a

world. ‘

A prison doctor’s wife, for example, was taken ill one
evening. Next morning the doctor visited a cell; the oceu-
pant of which, being unwell, had not been out of his cell
* the previous day,

The very first thing the man said was:
M—— is better to-day, sit.”

They say that when Jabez Balfour was let out of Park-
hurst he did not know that \Mr. Churchill was in Parlia-
ment.

The story is doubtful. All prisoners who care to know
what is going on can easily find out. Bits of newspaper
are picked up outside and smuggled in and passed from
hand to hand; parties road clearing get a sight of con-
tents bills of newspapers outside shops and every new-
comer tells others all he knows of what 1s going on.

It is a point of honor for a convict always ‘to pass
news: on.

He seldom,

“l hope Mrs.

if ever, fails to do so.

> + Go Be -

AIR HARDER THAN ROCK.

Dynamite affords a means of proving that there are
times when air is harder than rock, and that such times
are during the fraction of an instant when the dynamite
is exploding. When some ordinary black gunpowder is
placed upon a tock and set off with a fuse, the result is
only a flash and a puff of smoke into the air, while the
rock is merely blackened by the flame. When a stick of
dynamite is placed upon the same rock and set off, in-
stead of flashing into the air as the powder did, it will
actually shatter the rock, if even there is nothing about
the dynamite to bind it down of retain it.

It is for this reason that the common belief used to be
held, and is held by many to-day, in fact, that dynamite,
unlike other things, will follow the line of the greatest re-
sistance. But this is really not true. The laws of nature
are to follow the lines of least resistance, and dynamite
does exactly this by crashing through the rock instead of

TOP WEEKLY,

3

into the air, because for the moment conditions are such
that the rock is really the line of the least resistance, the
air about it being harder during that fraction of an instant
when the explosion occurs.

The black powder takes fire and explodes much more
slowly than the dynamite, so that the elastic air that in-,
closes it, as it does everything, gives way gradually and
the force is lost in the atmosphere. With dynamite, the
explosion has been so sudden, the attack on the ait so
instantaneous, that for a fraction of a second it actually
resists.

The force of the dynamite is so tremendous that it can-
not wait, and it is turned into the rock, which, for the in-
stant, becomes the line of least resistance.

An illustration of this may'be seen during a display of
lightning. A fork of it strikes across the sky. It packs
the air so densely that it can no longer make rapid progress
in that direction, and it turns aside, to follow the line of
least resistance. It cahnot wait for the air to,yield. It is
the. same with dynamite.

eh ee pe

AN AFTER-DINNER FEAT,

Fold your napkin into the form of a cravat, and request
some one of the company to fill up your glass with wine
or water, and place it on your napkin; cover your glass
with a hollow plate; cover again the plate with the two
ends of the napkin in such a fashion as the glass will be —
tightly pressed against the plate, and turn the whole up-
side down.

It is now easy to drink the liquid, which comes down
gently into the plate, and hence you can readily wager to
drink a glass of water or wine without touching your —
glass with your hands or mouth.

ee 0
ADVICE THAT WILL HELP.

It pays to have a number of strings tied to your bow,
but it is decidedly more important to shoot one arrow at
a time.

Don’t. give up, however hard you find the fight. —
worse failure is the quitter.

Give yourself a fair trial by repeated efforts before you
say that you can’t.

If you tty to bring out the best that is in you and: your
work, your success will take care of itself,

Don’t laugh at a ‘man’s shortcomings. If you are with- :
out his weakness, you probably have others ‘that are just
as. bad.°

“Effort may not bring fruit to-day nor to-morrow, Gut ig
planted in the right soil it is sure to bring fruit some
time.

You may not become great, but you are sure to be happy.
if you do the work nature intends you for.

If you aré made of the right kind of stuff you ‘will oe
be, satisfied to scratch on the top, but with the spirit of
a miner you will blast until you strike the richest vein. ee

If you must be a pessimist, take the time when you are
successful to be one. At other times you cannot afford
the handicap.

Don’t besmear another man’s name; if you di yon are
sure to blacken ro own een

Bi

tunity, the best chance is to do the ing at ‘ad as
as you can. \

 
New iP TOP WEERLY.

NEV S CrEnio OF IN FOREST.

 

Use of Wireless Given to Navy Men.

Secretary of the Navy Daniels has ordered that en-
listed men of the service be allowed the privilege of using
the government wireless stations on all ships and on’‘land.
The ship rate is 4 cents a word via Charleston, S. C.,
Jupiter, St. Augustine, and Pensacola, Fla. From San
Juan, Porto Rico, Colon, and Guantanamo, Cuba, the rate
will be 8 cents; from Key West and Alaska’5 cents. The
naval clerks will handle these accounts, and when the
vessels are in company the work will be done by the
senior, ship. ‘

Right Your Helm Now.

The ancient words port and starboard were recently
banished frown the American navy. Coming down from
ancient sailormen, and rich in the associations of song
and story, they must yield to the common sense of this
practical age. They are not modern. Their usefulness is
past. They do not fit the ship in these days of electric
steering gear. Plain and clear as their meaning has been
to the helmsmen,; of the past, they are now regarded as
confusing, and in the crucial hqur of battle might be the
straw’s weight that would cost victory and so perhaps
change the whole course of history. That is the view of
those who conduct the naval administration of the gov-
ernment.

“Starboard” and “port” are hereafter to be simply

“right” and “left,” and the words apply to the helm and

not to the rudder or the ship’s head. Thus the man at the
helm will have only the words of the officer’s command
to hear and obey.

The matter has been the subject of prolonged study by
_the general board.

On the final vote eight members of the general board
voted to do away with the old words, and one voted that
they should be retained.

Widows Seek Pensions.

Although the law recently passed by the New Jersey
Legislature and later signed by the governor, giving pen-
sions to widows with children under 16 years old, does
not go into effect until July 1, two widows applied re-
cently to County Clerk McDonough to be put on the list.

One is the mother of three children under the pre-

scribed age. The other has one child. As the county
clerk has not yet received a certified copy of the law, with
instructions as to how to act on applications, he was
obliged to ask the applicants to call later.
_ Under the law a pension of $9 a month is allowed for
one child under the age of 16; $14 a month for two
_ children, with $4 a month for each additional child under
_ that age.

Pulled from Car by Wire.

John Dunning, clerk in the United States mail car that
runs to Greenport, L. L., stood at the open door of the
car recently waiting to swing out the lever that would
catch the mail pouch hung on the arm at Floral Park.
For this maneuver there would be no need to halt the
train, and usually the Greenport mail whizzes through

Floral Park at high speed. But this time a freight train
was in the way, and the mail train had to stand at the
switch while the motorman of the freight took it on to
a siding.

The freight was rumbling past as Dunning stood at the
door of his own car, when a twisting length of wire that
was trailing from one of the freight cars snapped into
the open mail car, wound itself around Dunning’s left leg,
drew taut as the freight passed by, and yanked him to the
ground.

Dunning gave a “yell ‘st surprise and fear, but he could
not disentangle himself, and persons from a distance saw
him dragged helpless along the roadbed, perilously close
to the heavy wheels, when the wire broke and dropped
him. He escaped with many painful bruises and cuts, but
his teg—not the one around which the wire wrapped itself
—was broken below the knee.

Surgery Helps Epileptic.

Alfred Jones, 16 years old, of St. Louis, is no longer
“the boy with a twisted brain.” After noted specialists
had tried in vain to restore his mentality, a skillful sur-
gical operation has relieved the pressure of the skull on
the memory centers of his brain, and after years of in-
tellectual darkness he is said to be beginning to see the
light.

Alfred was born on Christmas Day, 1896, seven months
after the St. Louis tornado. His mother lived in the
storm belt, and received a severe nervous shock as a
result of her experience, though she was not physically
injured. -

The operation was performed by Doctor Francis Wil-
liam Kirsch, at the Christian Hospital. In performing
the operation, Doctor Kirsch removed a section of the
skull three inches in diameter. He found that it had been
pressing upon the memory center of the brain. He loos-
ened the adhesions to the skull, untwisted the nerves, and
put them back into their normal positions.

Until the operation was performed Alfred had been
subject to daily attacks of epilepsy. At times there had
been as many as fourteen of these in one day. Since the
operation there has not been one.

Cures Headaches by an Operation.

Those suffering from violent headaches will be inter-
ested to hear that, according to a communication just made
to the Academy of Medicine, at Paris, France, by Doctor
Guisez, the well-known Paris physician, a cure has now
been found for a large number of cases of this disorder,
hitherto declared to be incurable.

Doctor Guisez finds that the frequent and annoying
variety of migraine, which starts from above the eyes and
spreads, often accompanied by nausea and vomiting, is
really due to a malformation of the upper. part of the
nose known as hypertophy of the middle horn, which, under
the least provocation, causes congestion and a disturbance
of circulation at the base of the brain. Up to the present,
owing to this cause being overlooked, all medical treatment,
even the cutting of the nerves, has failed. €

Doctor Guisez, however, by a slight operation, the de-

 
NEW » TIP TOP

tails of which he gave to the academy, has found an easy
remedy by which he has cured over 70 cases already. He
recommends all persons suffering from frequent head-
aches to have a thorough examination made of the in-
terior of the nose.

This communication is considered by the academy to be
of great importance.

‘

Y Husband Promises to Obey His Wife.

Magistrate Levy, of New York, officiating at his first
marriage in Jefferson Market Court recently, made Thomas
Evans, whom he united to Miss Margaret Cook, prornise
to love, honor, and obey his wife. The error was called
to the attention of the magistrate after the ceremony,
but he said: “Well, if he keeps the promise no harm will
come of it.”

The young husband didn’t mind, and his wife said she
thought it was a good idea. In addition to revising the
ritual, Magistrate Levy gave the couple a few epigrams
to guide them on their way. “Love flies out of the window
when the wife can’t cook,’ was his parting bit of advice.

Avert “Hello” Girl Strike.

A strike of the 2,000 telephone operators in the fifty-
four exchanges of Boston and suburbs which was threat-
ened recently was averted by a compromise agreement.
Instead of the weekly wage increases, averaging $1 each,
which the union demanded, the agreement provides for
the establishment by the company of a plan of anniversary
payments.

These payments are to be $25 at the end of the second
year; $50 annually from the end of the third to the end
of the ninth year, and $100 at the end of each succeeding
year. The agreement also provides for the creation of an
, adjustment committee to consider all grievances.

Convicts Fight Fire in Pen.

Not a convict escaped from the Kansas State prison
when fire, which’ started from a spark from a motor in
the twine plant, destroyed the plant, several shops, and
the gymnasium, doing damage estifmated at $250,000, A
dozen convicts and guards were injured. The convicts
did heroic work in fighting the flames.

Faked Suicide from Ferry.

The manner in which he manipulated a “fake” suicide,
whereby 200 passengers on an Erie Railroad ferryboat were
thrown into excitement on the night of February 27, was
narrated by Emanuel Rubenstein, of Passaic, N. J., to his
father-in-law, Edward N. Kevitt recently:

Mr. Kevitt, who lives at 15 Garden Street, Passaic, and
is well known both as a politician and a building con-
tractor, has been seeking Rubenstein sitice that night in
February, because he had doubts as to the autheticity of
the “suicide.” Recently he found his son-in-law in a sani-
tarium at Westport, Conn.

On the night in question, shortly after eight o’clock, the

passengers on the ferry heard a loud splash, followed by
the shriek of “Man overboard!” The boat was stopped,
a lifeboat was lowered, and a search for the supposed un-
fortunate kept up for three-quarters of an hour. But no
one was found in the water.

A derby hat and coat were found. In the hat was the
card of Emanuel Rubenstein, with his address. The coat
was identified as belonging to Rubenstein. The man was

. Florida,

WEEKLY.

seen no more in Passaic.
was a suicide.

Mr. Kevitt took no stock in the suicide theory. He put
two detectives on the case. When he found his son-in-
law he was told this story, so he stated recently:

“I had on an extra coat that night, and a cap in my
pocket,” said Rubenstein.

“I went to the ferry wearing my derby hat and the sec-
ond coat. I carried a heavy suit case. I watched my
chance, and when no one was around I pulled off the
extra coat and put it and the derby together on a bench.
I put on the cap, threw the suit case into the river, and
yelled, “Man overboard? Then I stood around during the
excitement and the search and later walked off the ferry-
boat when she docked.”

It was generally concluded he

West Point to Reinstate Cadets.

President Wilson approved recently a court-martial’s
recommendation for the reinstatement, on July 4, of four
Sasse, of Delaware; J. D. Christian, of Vir-
T. M. Simpkins, of Georgia; and E. H. Freeland, of
who were dismissed from-the West Point Mili-
tary Academy for having intoxicating liquor in their pos-
session.

cadets, R, I.
ginia;

Girl Saves Life on Engine Pilot.
The screams of Mary Farber, a 17-year-old girl, brought
her assistance after she had clung to the pilot of the
engine of. a Baltimore & Ohio passenger train with one
hand while she held the unconscious form of Fred Lutz,
a companion, with the other, riding this way two miles
from the West Park Avenue crossing to Mansfield, Ohio.
The engine had struck their horse and buggy at the cross"
ing.
None of the train crew knew that anything had been —
struck until the station was reached. Miss Farber es-
caped with a few bruises. : The skull of Lutz was frac-

tured, but he has a good chance of recovery.

Harvard Has $18,631,588.

Harvard’s gross income from general investments in
the fiscal year which closed June 30, 1912, was $707,636,
the income from tuition fees was $670,800, according to the
report of the financial department made public recently.

The university’s investment account stood at $18,631,- _
588, as compared with $17,362,707 on the corresponding —
date in 1o1t. paige

To Test Canal With Fleet.
Plans are being formed for the mobilization of the

Atlantic fleet on the Pacific coast next fall or early win- |
ter. The fleet will cruise through the Mediterranean this”

summer, and it is desired to send the ships through the
Panama Canal as soon as it is completed, in order to de-
termine ‘how well and how quickly this may be mere, ‘
plished in case of necessity.

Secretary Daniels, after a conference with Seinen 3
Garrison, who telegraphed Colonel Goethals for definite —
information, finds that the chief engineer expects that the
water will be turned into the Culebra Cut in October, and
that one flight of locks at each end of the canal will then
be ready for use.

Colonel Goethals said. the opening of the canal had. al-

ways been predicated on the condition of the slides and ci

the completion of the locks, If in October, when the water “
is turned \in ‘at Culebra, slides do not prevent, it will

 
NEW TIP TOP

Colonel Goethals is con-
through by the end of

possible to pass vessels through.
fident of being able to pass vessels
the year, at all events. ;
It is planned to send the Fram through the canal,
possible, on her way to be used in Amundsen’s arctic
cruise, and that ship will be the first, after the old bat-
tleship Oregon, to go through. Colonel Goethals, however,

gives no positive assurances ag to the time when the canal
because of the uncertainty of slides at

may be used,
Culebra.

Rederal Conttdl af As:

An aviation-control bill was introduced in the House re-
cently by Representative Vare, of Pennsylvania, at the
request of the Aéro Club, of that State. It would place
acronautics entirely under the control of the bureau of
navigation of the department of commerce.

It provides that every person building or owning an
aeroplane must apply to the bureau of navigation for a
license, paying a fee of $5. Each applicant for a license
as an aviator would be required to submit proof of his
qualifications for operating the type of machine he names.
Aviators also would be required to present doctors’ cer-
tificates indicating soundness of body, with special refer-
ence to eyesight.

“Such a law,” said Mr. Vare, “will make the business of
aéronautics much safer than it is at present. My. bill allows
the bureau of navigation considerable latitude in making
tests, rules, and regulations ‘to safeguard the business,
science, or art of aérial travel.”

Cow Cheers Up After Getting a Glass Eye.

A few months ago a dairy cow belonging to Blair Stan-
ton, of Kansas City, which was producing eight quarts of
milk a day, lost an eye in the hedge brush. Saddened by
her loss, the cow refused to associate with others of the
herd, and fed alone.

Her output dropped to four quarts a day. A _ vet-
erinarian was called. He found no ailment except melan-
choly. He said she was suffering with fallen pride. Then
he solved the problem. He provided her with a glass eye.
Next day the Jersey was found with the herd grazing
in deep contentment. Best of all, she regained her milk
and started in to make up for lost time. Now she is
giving ten quarts of milk a day, and is contented.

Aitship in Gunfire Test.

Lieutenant Samuel McLeary, United States Army Avia-
tion Corps, remained in an army aéroplane over the ar-
mored cruiser Maryland recently during target practice
with 8-inch guns to test the effect of vibrations on the
‘stability of the machine. The test was made at an alti-
tude of 5,000 feet, and, although the machine rocked
: dangerously each time the guns were discharged, the avi-
ator succeeded in righting it. }
During the firing Lieutenant McLeary also tested a new
ange- -finder device,. swooping down as near the cruiser
as possible after each shot and signaling to the range-find-
‘ing officer the distances determined by the aid of the : new

Youngest Sunday-school Teacher.

_The youngest Sunday-school teacher in America 3 ae
8 yeats old, me poh of Mr, and a

WEEKLY.

Christian Sunday School at Mercer was absent. She con-
ducted the questioning in a most satisfactory way, and
showed a more complete knowledge of the subject than
could many persons much older.

“Wild West” Plays to Big Crowd.

Father Knickerbockér welcomed the “Wild West” and
“Far East” show recently at Madison Square Garden,
which was crowded to capacity. It was the familiar Wild
West spectacle—Indians, cowboys, roughriders, bucking
bronchos, stagecoach, and lumbering prairie schooners
complete. But somehow, to the old-timers there seemed
to be something lacking, and it was not until it was no-
ticed that Colonel William F. Cody, “Buffalo Bill” him-
self, was missing from the saddle in the arena that the
feeling was explained.

The old scout made his appearance before the audience
driving a pair of spirited roan horses in an open barouche.
Instead of the familiar buckskin trousers, beaded leggings,
and leather jacket, he wore a conventional frock suit with
pearl-colored sombrero, which he raised in response to the
applause. It was the first time in Buffalo Bill’s thirty

_years’ experience as a showman that the veteran horse-

man did not participate in person in acts of riding.

Otherwise the show is bigger and better than ever before,
and Pawnee Bill (Major Gordon Lillie) did all that he could
to make up for the absence of his old pard from the saddle.
To the equestrian, roping, and acrobatic acts of former
years were added several new features. One of the. most
sensational of these was the roping and saddling of a wild
buffalo, which was ridden around the arena by a cow-
boy with no assistance save that of a halter.

In the “Far East” part of the entertainment Cingalese,
Dahomians, Siamese acrobats, Hindu magicians, Arabian
dervishes, and Australian boomerang throwers were pre-
sented. Russian dancers and Japanese wrestlers gave evi-
dence of their dexterity, and a number of new animal acts
were presented. A

One of the most popular inbavations proved to be the
game of auto polo, which was filled with thrills for even
the most blasé spectator in the ‘hall. The light automo-
biles collided frequently, turned turtle now and then, and
the staccato explosions of their unhooded engines spat
forth bursts of flame into the very faces of the drivers
and players. The contestants were attired in heavily
padded football uniforms, with head and nose guards com-

plete, and the game was fast and. furious from. the start

until the final blast of the umpire’s whistle marked the
finish of the contest.

As is always the case when Buffalo Bill comes to town,
the American youth formed a respectable part of the audi-
ence, and not the least appreciative part. He was both
seen and heard on every hand.

Named Cats in Her Will.

Miss Martha Isabel Saxton, of Port Jefferson, L. I., who
died recently, bequeathed a piano, private desk, and some
pictures to her cousin, Miss Isabel C. McLean, provided
the latter would “look after my two cats, Buttons and
Muggins, during their lifetime.”

Tn the event that Miss McLean did not survive the
testatrix, the will made further provisions for the dispo-
sition of the cats in this clause; :

“T ask my dear friend, Anna Maria Tooker, to see that
said cats, Buttons and Muggins, are chloroformed, for

 
30 | NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY.

indie kindness I give aid bequeath my cabinet sewing
table.

The will has been admitted to probate by Surrogate
Nicoll, of Riverhead.

A Strange Thief.

Police and detectives have been unable to catch the
“slipper snatcher,” New York’s latest pest. They know
no more about the identity of the nervy young man than
they do about his object in robbing pretty maidens of their
footgear. 2 ‘

A half dozen cases of “slipper snatching” have been re-
ported within a few days. The thief takes his stand at
the stairway of an elevated railroad or subway station,
and when a dainty young woman, her feet incased in filmy
silk stockings and low shoes, appears, the snatcher grabs
one of the slippers and hurries away. The latest case
was that of Miss Selma Graf. Her silver-buckled slipper
was snatched from her foot as she ran up the stairs of an
elevated station. A policeman helped her hop to a store,
where she bought another pair of slippers.

Pathos Killed a Jester.

Cliff Gordon, the comedian, who was found dead in a
Chicago hotel recently, evidently was disheartened because
he could not make his auditors laugh after they had wept
over Sarah Bernhardt’s playlet.

Gordon attempted it during an afternoon performance,
and failed. It seemed to affect him, for he-said to the
manager of the theater:

“The people sat in their seats stolid and mirthless. I
could not get them, and had to quit. Any comedian who
tries to follow Bernhardt will die.” :

The manager tried to cheer him up; told him to have
a rest and try again at the night performance. Gordon
went to his room, and when he did not appear for his
act in the evening a call boy was sent to his hotel. The
door of Gordon’s room was broken open and he was found
dead upon the floor. He had taken a heavy dose of some
cold cure. A physician ue Gordon also had a weak
heart

Heat Turns Apple to Stone,

By some process that no one he has consulted has been
able to explain, an apple has undergone petrification in
the furnace at the home of C. Schrades, of Denver, Col.,
who has offered the curiosity to the State museum.

The apple, a russet, weighed about five ounces.
weighs fourteen ounces.
affected by the heat, and it appears at a glance to be a
perfect apple except that there is a hole where the stem
was; but it is so hard that the point of a knife blade can-
not be driven into it.

It now

Live Sporting News.

Joe Rivers, of California, has a good claim for a fight
with Willie Ritchie, the lightweight champion, now that
he has defeated Leach Cross, of New York. The fight
was a fine exhibition of boxing, and was fast throughout,
but Rivers easily outpointed his opponent.

Manager McGraw, of the New York Giants, is said to
be more confident of winning the flag this season than he
has been in the last five years. He expects three of his
players—Snodgrass, Shafer, and Tesreau—to shine this sea-
son,

Ira Thomas, the star catcher of the Philadelphia Ath-

-

Its color and shape were not,

letics, says Moriarity and Callahan are the two most dan-
gerous men on the base lines. Thomas thinks Cobb,
Milan, and Collins are the best runners, as far as speed
goes.

Heine Peitz, the “Flying Dutchman,” as he was known
in the olden days, is serving his twenty-third year in or-
ganized baseball. Peitz began his professional career in
1890. He is coaching the St. Louis Cardinals.

In the six years that Walter Johnson has been with
the-Washington Senators he has fanned 1,163 batters and
issued 360 passes.

It has been figured out by a statistical fiend that Joe
Wood, of the Boston Red Sox, will receive $1.87 for
every ball he pitches, computed on a basis of forty-three
games and fifteen balls to. an inning.

Hans Wagner has again been appointed field captain of
the Pittsburgh Pirates.

Manager McGraw has secured a promise from Mal-
colm Russell, the sensational shortstop of the University
of Virginia nine, to play with the New York Giants if he
decides to enter professional baseball.

Countless, winner of the last Saratoga cup race, for
whom John G. Greener, his owner, has just refused $25,-
000, died at Louisville, Ky., from shipping fever. Count-
less was six years old.

Dog Goes Home, Six Hundred Miles,

When Ira Mills, of Edmund, Wis., moved to Bodark,
Mo., he took his dog with him on the train. The dog
remained in Missouri two days, then disappeared. Mills
telephoned to near-by towns and had officers search for
the animal, until he received word that the dog had ar-
rived at its old home, 600 miles from where its master had
taken it. :

Seven Killed in Canadian Wreck.

Seven persons are.dead and fifteen were injured as the
result of the derailment of an excursion train on the Cen.
tral Vermont Railway, about four and a half miles out of
St. Lambert, Canada. The train was carrying about 700_
passengers.

The telescoping of the derailed coaches caiised most —
of the fatalities. The passengers from other cars formed
a rescue brigade and worked hard to extricate the dead
and injured from the wreckage. Bodies of some of the
victims were so firmly wedged in the shattered coaches
that it took a wrecking crew hours to release them.

Friend of Poot Buried Among Them.

In accordance with the wish of Robert Pile, who died —
recently at Bristol, Tenn., his body has been buried on
the county farm, among the graves of the paupers.

Pile devoted much- of his time and nearly all his means ©
to charity. He was especially active in behalf of the
county’s poor, and did much to make their lives happier.
His will directs that the bulk of his property, which in-
cludes much real estate, is to be held in trust for the bene-
fit of the poor people of the city and county. He felt it
would be an honor, he said, to be buried near ee with
whom he was in sympathy.

Special Home for Big Man and Little Wife, .
Theodore Olson, the largest policeman on the Kansas
City force, has had a special home constructed for the
benefit of his wife, who is a diminutive person’ and very

much in love with her big husband. The kitchen is bui

 
NEW “TEP “POP. WEEKLY: 31

to suit Mrs. Olson, and her husband can get into it ‘only
by ducking his head way over. Other parts of the house
are extra large, as is part of the furniture. A dining
table at which Olson can sit comfortably can be reached
by his wife only when she sits in a high chair. The bed
is. more than seven feet long.

To Rivet Up Wounds Instead of Sewing.

Riveting wounds instead of sewing them up bids fair
to be the method used by the surgeon of the future. Doc-
tor Robert M. Green, of the Harvard Medical School,
has invented an automatic device that makes this possi-
ble. The metal rivets will be used chiefly in dissections.
—“T found rivets could very easily and conveniently. be
applied to the skin edges as to a boot or legging,” said
Doctor Green. “They hold with sufficient firmness to
allow the incision to be laced up with the string.”

. Lives After 110-foot Plunge,

The figure of a man shooting 110 feet through the air
from the Manhattan Bridge, New York, startled oyster-
men in a sloop at pier 32, in the East River. The man
struck the water face downward. He sank, but in a mo-
ment redppeared and swam to the sloop.

A rope was passed to him and he was hauled aboard,
still conscious, but bleeding from the nose and mouth.
He said he was Giuseppe Marcianti, of Brooklyn. He was
going to the place where he is employed and was seized
by dizziness while walking alohg the southern promenade
of the bridge. He staggered against the parapet and then
toppled over into space.

Girl With Broken Back Walks.

“More than fifty doctors said I never could be cured,”
declared Esther Harris, of New York, when she proudly
walked for the first time since a little more: than two years
ago, when her neck and back were broken by a fall down
the elevator shaft of the Triangle shirt-waist factory
building during a fire, in which 150 other entployees lost
their lives. Miss Harris, who was cashier of. the shirt-
waist company, became completely paralyzed from the
neck down after her injuries.

_ Baseball Briefs Gathered by “Chas.,”
Weekly” Reader.

. President Wilson was on. hand to. toss the. first ball
vat the American League opening at Washington, D. C,
and saw Washington defeat New York, in a well-played
game, 2 to 1. Vice President Marshall,.. members of
cabinet, and several. other notable men. were also present.
~The Minneapolis Club, of the American Association,, has
got a great team of, big-league veterans, with. George
Browne, Davy Altizer, James Williams, James and Frank
lahanty, Claude Rossman, Hobe Ferris, Ray | Patter-
son, Owens, and others on the team.
Pitcher Ed Walsh, of the White Sox, went to the res-
ue of Pitcher Lange recently and did the duty in grand

a “New Tip Top

le. He was sent to the mound against St. Louis in the
as a result of |
The next three Browns up fanned, with- .

ninth inning when ,the bases were full,
_ Lange’s wildness.
out further action on the bases.
Jones has been a prominent name in major-league base-
ball, both American and National. The American. League
as never-been known to be without at least one player in

its circuit, of that name. A few of that name of big-

league fame, past and present, are: Fielder Jones, Tom
Jones, Tex Jones,.Bumpus.Jones, Bert Jones, Oscar Jones,
Davy Jones, and Charley Jones.

St. Louis. has the reputation of. being a great baseball-
player-producing city. Among the players that have come
out of St. Louis are: Bobby Byrne, Lefty Leifield, Billy
Kelly, Edward Reulbach, Artie’Hoffman, Arthur Fletcher,
Vin, Campbell, and Bob Groom.

Twenty-four. errors were made in a world-champion-
ship game in, 1885, between the..St. Louis and Chicago
clubs, the Chicago team»making 17 of-the errors. “Pop”
Anson, first baseman of Chicago, made the most bobbles,

making four.

Boy Catches an Alligator.

Laton Crouse, aged 12, of Rogersville, Pa., was’ fishing
for suckers in Ten Mile Creek when suddenly his line
shot downward and he almost lost the rod. After a
struggle he landed his prize. Instead of the big fish he
expected it was an alligator. With a-club the boy killed
the reptile, which was two-and one-half feet. long and
weighed five pounds.

United States to Serve 800,000 Meals.

Eight hundred thousand meals will be supplied by the
government ‘tothe: Union: and Confederate veterans when
they are in camp next July on the battlefield of Gettys-
burg, where the semicentennial of the great fight will be
celebrated by all the States that‘participated in the struggle.
This camp-is to care for 40,000 veterans.

Allowance will be made for-twenty meals for each man.
That will require 800 cooks and as many helpers, and. 125
bakers. In: the camp will be more than 9,500 tents; which
will be pitched in fields not far from the scene of Pickett’s
charge. Pennsylvania will allot space in the camp = by
States.

Hete’s the Way to Keep Score of a Ball Game.

In a baseball score book’ you will find little squares
within squares. The within squares represents the dia-
mond. About this you mark the fate of each batter, and
the systems for--doing this are numerous. It is- best to
number the players, the pitcher, one; catcher, two; first,
three; second, four; short; five; third, six; left, seven;
center, eight; right, nine. . Substitutes going. in take-the
number of.the position they play. . Suppose a batter .hits
to short and is thrown out at first... Between the plate and
first base. of. the little inner. square mark the figures 53.
In the center of the square put a large cipher. Thus it is
recorded and canbe proved at all times that the. batter is
out; short to. first, presumably on a ground ball... Had
the pitcher touched the ball before it got to short the. little
figures would read 1, 5, 3, which would further show who
handled the ball.

Well is a Geyser and Suction Pipe by Turns.

Doctor E. N, Lowe, State geologist, has returned from
a visit to the farm of John Mabry, ten miles north of Car-
rollton, Carroll County, Miss., where he went at the solici-
tation of ‘Mabry to examine and explain a phenomenon
that so far has puzzled all comers.

Not long ago Mabry and his. family were awakened dur-
ing the night by a*rumbling noise that sounded as if.a
heavily loaded freight train was pulling through his yard.
It. was found that the noise came from an.old well. The
farmer and his wife thought there was going to be an-

pars Da,

 
32 , NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY.

other earthquake. They placed their pine torch over the
mouth of the well only to have it promptly blown out,
and they were seriously frightened. ‘They remembered
that several years before there had been a bored well in
the yard, but it had ne since been filled i in with dirt and
forgotten.

Three days later the blowing Rae and the hole in
the ground began sucking, at which it has been alternating
ever since. Doctor Lowe suggests that perhaps there is a
subterranean cavern away down, through which water runs
and forces air up or down. Natural gas was suggested
until it was learned the blowpipe put out a fat pine torch
and that the fissure sucks as well as blows.
ing during the visit of Doctor Lowe.

Falling Sash Breaks Neck.

Chester Idleman, 11-year-old son of D. W. Idleman, of
Emoryville, W. Va., was found dead in the Empire school-
house, with his body inside the room and his head under
a window.

The lad had gone back after something he had left in
the building. While trying to get out by way of the
window, as he had entered, he let go the heavy sash and it
dropped on him, breaking his neck.

“White House” for Marshall, Too.

A government residence, second in rank to the White
House, is provided for Vice President Marshall in a bill
introduced in the House by Representative Cullop, of In-
diana. Cullop proposed for an appropriation of $50,000
immediately for such a building in Washington.

Killed by Baby With Bottle.

Mrs. Katherine McDonough, who died in a hospital in
New York, was the victim of a peculiar accident. She
was struck over the eye by a nursing bottle in the hands
of her infant daughter. The injury was at first regarded

_as trivial, but it became so painful that the mother was
removed to a hospital, where traumatic meningitis de-
veloped.

Seeking Naval Sponsors.

Information concerning living female descendants of

three naval heroes—Captain John Ericsson, Lieutenant
William Cushing, and Captain Jeremiah -O’Brien—whose
names are to be given to new torpedo-boat destroyers, is
being sought by Secretary Daniels, who is about to name
sponsors for the new vessels. The secretary has issued
an appeal to the public for information.

Captain Ericsson built the Monitor, of Civil War fame;
Lieutenant Cushing destroyed the ram Albemarle in the
Civil War, and Captain O’Brien did much to establish
the fame of ‘the first American navy in the Revolutionary
War.

' Troth at Last, Beelzebub!

In an address to the Philosophical Society, at Phila-
delphia, Professor Paul Haupt, of Johns Hopkins Uni-
versity, said there was no scriptural foundation for the
idea of a final day of judgment.

“The book of Zachariah, which Jews as well as Chris-

tians give as authority for the description of the last judg- .

ment,” he said, “refers merely to a municipal plan for
municipal improvements laid out by the Maccabees. The
poetic and fanciful language of the biblical scribes has
been misinterpreted.”

The speaker also said that Beelzebub had ‘pag de-

Tt was suck-

‘pop

scribed by the ancients as “the father of flies, not lies, as
the modern horror of those germ- carrying insects was
shared-in biblical times.”

Catch a Monstet Octopus,

John la Nasa, an Italian restaurateur, of New Orleans,
La., is a fisherman of some repute, but he and his party
broke their own records by landing a fourteen-foot octo-
pus in the Gulf of Mexico, at the Mississippi’s mouth.
Devilfish, as the members of the octopus tribe are called,
are exceedingly rare in the Gulf and are almost never
caught near land. La Nasa was seining for small fish in
the shore waters when the monster deep-sea fish was
caught in the net’s meshes. It took seven hours to land
it. It measured fourteen feet from its head to the end of
its longest feeler, and the weight was ninety pounds. The
fish is considered by the Italians as a‘great delicacy, and
La Nasa served one of the huge tentacles at a dinner for
his friends.

“Curfew Bells.”

“Curfew shall not ring to-night,” vowed the girl who
many years ago clung to the clapper of a big bell as it
swung in a tower, prevented it from sounding, and by her
heroism gave the poet something to’ write about. The
girl would have had a hard time had she been working on
a curfew “bell” such as Orting, Wash.; has.

Ortin’s curfew signal consists of two old circular saws —
hung to a scaffold, and it seems to answer the require-
ments. When the authorities think young folk should be .
in bed the city marshal climbs the ladder and pounds the

saws with a club. As far as the noise is concerned, it is —

as loud as that of the average curfew bell.

Returns Money Stolen in 1887,
The stricken conscience of an aged man in Germany |

was responsible for_the return of German bank notes— a

amounting to $1,000 "American money to Nicholas’ Wer- —
meister, of Louisville, Ky., who was robbed of that amount 4
at his old home in Metz, Germany, twenty-six years ago.
The letter inclosing the notes was dated March 10, 1913,

the anniversary of the theft, and was unsigned. Although

the writer referred to himself as a “trusted friend who —
betrayed the confidence of your household,’ Wermeister —
declared he was unable to identify him. ‘ Rae

Island Was an Elephant.

Burton Eldridge was rowing in New York Bay off
Clifton, Staten Island, when there loomed up off his ;
starboard bow what seemed a small island. Eldridge,
who knows. the bay well, was puzzled. There was no
island charted there, he knew, yet there it was. Second
thought suggested it was a submarine, for he had been
reading Jules Verne and memories of the Nautilus and
Captain Nemo crowded upon him.

The island, or submarine, was smooth and dark and
round, and he circumnavigated it the better to investigate.
Then he discovered it to be the corpse of an elephant. -

Not a Negro in This County.

Graham County, North Carolina, enjoys a unique dis-
tinction—there is not a negro in the county. Warren
County, near by, has a negro population of 13,207, or

per cent of the entire population. There are in all
843 negroes in North Carolina, about 40 per cent of he
ation.

 
 
SOME_OF THE OF THE
‘BACK CK

NUMBERS OF

NEW TIP TOP
WEEKLY

SUPPLIED

 

 

651—F rank Merriwell’s Red Guide.
652—Dick Merriwell’s Rival.
653—Dick Merriwell’s Strength.
654—Dick Merriwell’s Secret Work.
656—F rank Merriwell’s Red Visitor.
657—F rank Merriwell’S Rope.
658—F rank Merriwell’s Lesson.
659—F rank Merriwell’s Protection.
660—Dick Merriwell’s Reputation.
661—Dick Merriwell’s Motto.
662—Dick Merriwell’s Restraint.
663—Dick Merriwell’s Ginger.
664—Dick Merriwell’s Driving.
665—Dick Merriwell’s Good Cheer.
666—F rank Merriwell’s Theory.
667—Frank Merriwell’s Diplomacy.
668—F rank Merriwell’s Encouragement.
669—F rank Merriwell’s Great Work.
670—Dick Merriwell’s Mind.
671—Dick Merriwell’s “‘Dip.”’
672—Dick Merriwell’s Rally.
675—Dick Merriwell’s Flier,
674—F rank Merriwell’s Bullets.
675 i Frank Merriwell’s Cut Off.
Frank Merriwell’s Ranch Boss.
Dick Merriwell’s Equal.
78—Dick Merriwell’s Development.
Dick Merriwell’s Eye.
rank Merriwell’s Zest.
Krank Merriwell’s Patience.
Frank Merriwell’s Fighters.
Dick Merriwell at the ‘‘Meet.”’
Dick Merriwell’s Protest.
Dick Merriwell in the Marathon.
—Dick Merriwell’s Colors.
8—Dick Merriwell, Driver.
~Dick Merriwell on the Deep.
—Dick Merriwell in the North
691—Dick Merriwell’s Dandies.
692—Dick Merriwell’s Skyscooter.
693—Dick Merriwell in the Elk
tains.
694—Dick Merriwell in Utah.
695—Dick Merriwell’s Bluff.
696—Dick Merriwell in the Saddle.
697—Dick Merriwell’s Ranch Friends.
698—Dick Merriwell at Phantom Lake.
699—F rank Merriwell’s Hold-back.
700—F rank Merriwell’s Lively Lads.
701—Frank Merriwell as Instructor.
702—Dick Merriwell’s Cayuse.
70O8—Dick Merriwell’s Quirt.
704—Dick Merriwell’s Freshman Friend.
705—Dick Merriwell’s Best Form.
706—Dick Merriwell’s Prank.
707—Dick Merriwell’s Gambol.
708—Dick Merriwell’s Gun.
709—Dick Merriwell at His Best.
710—Dick Merriwell’s Master Mind.
11—Dick Merriwell’s Dander.
12—Dick Merriwell’s Hope.
138—Dick’s Merriwell’s Standard.
sa k Merriwell’s Sympathy.
1
17

Woods.

Moun-

5—Dick Merriwell in Lumber Land.
6—F rank Merriwell’s Fairness.
7—Frank Merriwell’s Pledge.
18—F rank Merriwell, the Man of Grit.
19—F rank Merriwell’s Return Blow.
20—Frank Merriwell’s Quest.
721—Frank Merriwell’s Ingots.
22—F rank Merriwell’s Assist ince,
23—F rank Merriwell at the Throttle.
24—-Frank Merriwell, the Always Ready.
725—F rank Merriwell in Diamond Land.
26—F rank Merriwell’s Desperate Chance,
27—F rank Merriwell’s Black Terror.
728—F rank Merriwell Again on the Slab.
729—F rank Merriwell’s Hard Game.
730—F rank Merriwell’s Six-in-hand.
731—F rank Merriwell’s Duplicate.
82—Frank Merriwell on Rattlesnake
Ranch.
—Frank Merriwell’s Sure Hand.
—Frank Merriwell’s Treasure Map.
35—F rank Merriwell, Prince of the Rope.
—Dic - Merriwell, Captain of the Var-
sity.

PRICE, FIVE CENTS PER COPY.
news dealer, they can be obtained direct from this office.

387—Dick Merriwell’s Control.
38—Dick Merriwell’s Back Stop.
39—Dick Merriwell’s Masked Enemy.
40—Dick Merriwell’s Motor Car.
41—Dick Merriwell’s Hot Pursuit.
42—Dick Merriwell at Forest Lake.
43—Dick Merriwell in Court.
44—Dick Merriwell’s Silence.
45—Dick Merriwell’s Dog.
46—Dick Merriwell’s Subterfuge.
47—Dick Merriwell’s Enigma.
48—Dick Merriwell Defeate Gs
49—Dick Merriwell’ s “Wing.”
50—Dick Merriwell’s Sky Chase.
51 —Dick Merriwell’s Pick-ups.
5 —Dick Merriwell on the Rocking
< Merriwell’s Penetration.
< Merriwell’s Intuition.
Be < Merriwell’s Vantage.
56 < Merriwell’s Advice.
57
o

< Merriwell’s Rescue.
58—Dic k Merriwell, American.
59—Dick Merriwell’s Understanding.
760—Dick Merriwell, Tutor.
761—Dick Merriwell’s Quandary.
762—Dick Merriwell on the Boards,
763—Dick Merriwell, Peacemaker.
764—F rank Merriwell’s Sway.
765—F rank Merriwell’s Comprehension.
766—F rank Merriwell’s Young Acrobat.
7—Frank Merriwell’s Tact. .
—Frank Merriwell’s Unknown.
769—F rank Merriwell’s Acuteness.
—Irank Merriwell’s Young Canadian.
(LS e. rank Merriwell’s Coward.
72—Frank Merriwell’s Perplexity.
—Frank Merriwell’s Intervention.
7 rank Merriwell’s Daring Deed.
—Frank Merriwell’s Succor.
—HF rank Merriwell’s Wit.
7— Frank Merriwell’s Loyalty.
—Frank Merriwell’s Bold P lay.
oF rank Merriwell’s Insight.
J—Frank Merriwell’s Guile.
—Frank Merriwell’s Campaign.
—Frank Merriwell in the
Forest.
788—Frank Merriwell’s Tenacity.
784—Dick Merriwell’s Self-sacrifice.
785—Dick Merriwell’s Close Shave,
786—Dick Merriwell’s Perception.
787—Dick Merriwell’s Mysterious Disap-
pearance.
788—Dick Merriwell’s Detective Work.
789—Dick Merriwell’s Proof.
790—Dick Merriwell’s Brain Work.
791—Dick Merriwell’s Queer Case.
792—Dick Merriwell, Navigator.
793—Dick Merriwell’s Good Fellowship.
794—-Dick Merriwell’s Fun.
795—Dick Merriwell’s Commencement.
796—Dick Merriwell at Montauk Point.
797—Dick Merriwell, Mediator.
798—Dick Merriwell’s ee
799—Dick Merriwell on the Great Lakes.
800—Dick Merriwell Caught Napping.
wre . Merriwell in the Copper Coun-

National

802—Dick einer Strapped.
803—Dick Merr iwell’s Coolness.
804—Dick Merriwell’s Reliance.
805—Dick Merriwell’s College Mate.
806—Dick Merriwell’s Young Pitcher.
807—Dick Merriwell’s Prodding.
808—Frank Merriwell’s Boy.

809—F rank Merriwell’s Interference.
810—Frank Merriwell’s Young Warriors.
811—F rank Merriwell’s Appraisal.
812—F rank Merriwell’s Forgiveness.
813—Frank Merriwell’s Lads.

814—F rank Merriwell’s Young Aviators,
815—F rank Merriwell’s Hot-head.
816—Dick Merriwell, Diplomat.
817—Dick Merriwell in Panama.
818—Dick Merriwell’s Perseverance.
819—Dick Merriwell Triumphant.
820—Dick Merriwell’s Betrayal.

821—Dick Merriwell, Revolutionist.
822—Dick Merriwell’s Fortitude.
823—Dick Merriwell’s Undoing.
824—Dick Merriwell, Universal Coach,
825—Dick Merriwell’s Snare.
826—Dick Merriwell’s Star Pupil.
827—Dick Merriwell’s Astuteness.
828—Dic Merriwell’s Responsibility.
829—Dick Merriwell’s Plan.
= 30—Dick Merriwell’s Warning.
31—Dic k Merriwell’s Counsel.
83 2—Dick Merriwell’s Champions.
Si 8—Dick Merriwell’s Marksmen.
834—Dick Merriwell’s Enthusiasm.
835—Dick Merriwell’s Solution.
836—Dick Merriwell’s Foreign Foe.
837—Dick Merriwell -and_ the
Warriors.
838—Dick Merriwell’s Battle for the Blue.
839—Dick Merriwell’s Evidence.
840—Dick Merriwell’s Device.
841—Dick Merriwell’s Princeton
nents.
842—Dick Merriwell’s Sixth Sense.
843—Dick Merriwell’s Strange Clew.
844—Dick Merriwell Comes Back.
s 15—Dick Merriwell’s Heroic Crew.
Dick Merriwell Looks Ahead.
-Dick Merriwell at the Olympics.
Dick Merriwell in Stockholm.
Dick Merriwell in the
Stadium.
§850—Dick Merriwell’s Marathon.

Carlisle

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Swedish

NEW SERIES.

New Tip Top Weekly

1-—F rank Merriwell, Jr.

2—F rank Merriwell, Jr., in the Box.

3—Frank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Struggle.

4—F rank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Skill.

5—Frank Merriwell, Jr., in Idaho.

6—Frank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Close Shave.

[- aoe Merriwell, Jr., on Waiting Or-
ders.

S—Frank Merriwell, Jr.’

9—Frank Merriwell, Jr.’s,

thon.
10—Frank Merriwell, Jr., at the

Ranch.
‘ank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Golden Trail.
s, Competitor.

1

12

13—Frank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Guidance.
14—F rank Me rriwell, Jr.’s, Scrimmage.
15
1

1

s, Danger.
Relay Mara-
Bar Z@

1—Fr
—Frank Merriwell, Jr.’

—F rank Merriwell, Jr., Misjudged.
6—Frank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Star Play.
7—Frank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Blind Chase.

18—F rank Merriwell, Jr.'s, Discretion.
19—F rank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Substitute.
20—F rank Merriwell, Jr., Justified.
21—F rank Merriwell, Jr., Incog.
22—F rank Merriwell, Jr., Meets the Issue.
23—F rank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Xmas Eve.
24—Frank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Fearless Risk.
25—F rank Merriwell, Jr., on Skis.
26—Frank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Ice-boat Chase.
27—Frank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Ambushed
Foes.
28—Frank Merriwell, Jr.,
29—F rank Merriwell, Jr.’
80—Frank Merriwell, Jr.’
81—F rank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Adversary.
382—F rank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Timely Aid.
83—Frank Merriwell, Jr., in the Desert.
384—Frank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Grueling Test.
85—Frank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Special Mission
86—Frank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Red Bowman.
87—F rank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Task.
88—Frank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Cross-Country
Race.
89—Frank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Four Miles.
40—Frank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Umpire.
41—F rank Merriwell, Jr., Sidetracked.
42-_F rank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Teamwork.
43—Frank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Stop-Over,

and the Totem.
s, Hockey Game,
s, Clew.

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