AUGUST 16,1913

NEW TIP TOP |
WEEKLY

An Ideal Publication for the AmericanYouth

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An Ideal Publication For The American Youth

 

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No. 55. NEW YORK, August 16, 1913. Price Five Cents.

 

_ Frank Merriwell, Junior’s, Ten Innings;

Or, THE ENCHANTED SWAT STICK.

By BURT L. STANDISH.

CHAPTER I.
THE SWAT-STICK SWASTICA.

“The story’s got out somehow, Sam, that you and I are
. working together to down young Merriwell, and that I
hired you to rough things with him in that wrestling
match, so that I-——”

“Huh! Dat was de trut’.

“Well, you young idiot, even if it was the truth I can’t
afford to have it found out. It will hurt business, and
here in Phoenix it’s pretty hard sledding for me since
Merriwell cooked my goose at Bonita Place. This last
yarn about you and me being in cahoots to do a little

”

crooked work will just about finish me off, in this man’s

town, and something will have to be——”

A heavy thump sounded on the outside of the door.
The heavy-set man in the long, red velvet robe and the
red silk cap jumped to his feet. He turned briskly on
his companion, a surly looking youth with the swarthy
complexion of a Mexican.

“That may be a customer now,” whispered the man
‘in red. “Go into the other room, Sam, and we'll finish
Business has been so poor with me

lately that I can’t afford to let any of it get away.”

_ Sam grunted, got to his feet, and dodged out of sight
behind a crimson curtain. Another thump had fallen
on the outside of the door. The man in the crimson robe
turned the gas low and threw a pinch of powder into a
vase on a table. A ghastly, bluish flame leaped out
of the vase. Through this glow he moved like a specter,
‘halted at the threshold, and pulled open the door.

A tall, awkward-appearing young fellow was revealed
in the hall. Under one arm he carried a long, slender

+ parcel. The glare, and the weird spectacle presented by

 

the man in red, must have astounded and frightened
him, for his. eyes were almost popping from his head.

“Great jew’s-harp!” he gasped.

“Does the young stranger seek knowledge at the fount
of wisdom?” inquired the man, in his most sepulchral
voice.

“I cal’late I daon’t knaow what 1 seek,” was the re-
sponse, in shaking! tones. “I cal’late I daon’t want no
truck with yeou, nohow. Good night!”

The caller turned from the door and would have left
hurriedly, but the man, with a quick movement, caught
him by the coat tails and pulled him into the room.

“Be calm,” he droned, pushing the lanky youth into
a chair. “There is nothing for mortals to fear in the

temple of Bixler, the Mystic, Seventh Son of a Seventh’

Son and Prince of the Black Magic. Be at ease.”

“I want tew knaow!” gurgled the other, taking his
long, slender package across his knees and Staring about
him in a sort of fascinated awe.

“What wouldst thou know, Reuben?” rumbled the man —

in red, carefully closing the door. :
“By kelter,’ murmured the youth, seemingly overcome
with wonder, “yeou struck it fust crack. Reuben J,
Whittaker is my handle, and yeou guessed it right off
without a miss!” \ :
“It’s my business to now things,” explained the charla-
tan.

“I wish yeou’d put out the blue light—it makes me narv-

ous. Darn spooky place yeou got here, and I was juber-
ous abaout stayin’ when I seen the layout. It’s nigh

on to ten o’clock at night, and I cal’late I wouldn’t feel so

flighty if it was broad day.” pir
The powder, which was responsible for the bluish glare,

had nearly burned out. The man in red laughed in his —

 
      
       
      
  
   
  
   
  
  
   
  
  
  
  
   
    
  
  
   
   
   
   
   
  
   
  
  
    
  
  
  
   
  
   
   
   
   
   
   
 
  
   
  
   
   
   
  
 

A crystal, its polished surface gleaming brightly, stood
On a table
in another corner rested a brown human skull with two
thigh bones crossed in front of it. From a wall hung a
diagram covered with circles and signs of the zodiac.
Whittaker took in all these things with shivers of dread.
They indicated a familiarity with the powers of darkness,
quite enough to

on a small stand in one corner of the room.

and' for one of superstitious mind were
arouse fear and inspire respect.

“Wouldst like to know the past or present?” inquired
the man in red. “Wouldst like the palm of thy hand trans-
lated, or the bumps, of thy head examined for a demon-
stration of charactet? Perchance thou desirest an amulet
for good luck? State thy needs and I will supply them.
Amulets are five dollars. Charms that are positively
guaranteed are ten.”

“I cal’late that abaout five dollars’ wuth of this spook
business is all I can stand,” returned Whittaker. “Yeou’re
the feller that advertises in the papers and calls himself

. Doc Bixler ?”

“Even so, Reuben.”

“Waal, now, here’s the way I’m fixed: Yeou see, I’m
home-run Reuben, with abaout the fattest battin’ average
of any dad-binged amateur that’s playin’ ball to-day. It’s
a spell that makes me the champeen swat-stick artist.
peer”

“Ah!” murmured the arrant fraud in the red robe, nod-
ding wisely. “Some other adept has worked a spell over
you and made you proficient on the baseball diamond.”

“Naw. The spell was worked on the bat, my own par-
tic’ler bat. I’m jest a common, ordinary feller, doc, but
it’s the bat that does the biz. I paid five dollars to Zozo,
the Great, in Denver, tew charm that bat so’st ever’ time

Tm up it makes a hit. Worked real fine, tew, till lately.
Yest’day, out tew the ranch, I was playin’ with the punch-
ers that couldn’t git away tew come in and see the games
here, and I missed the pesky ball twicet hand runnin’.
ih: Now, I cal’late that Denver charm is wearin’ out like,
and I want yeou to fix up the bat so’st it will be as ayed
as ever. Kin yeou do it?”

“Z0z0 is a lobster beside of- me!” boasted Doc Bixler.

“T can run a circle of incantations all around him, and
then some. The crowned heads of Europe have appealed
to Bixler, and Bixler has never failed them.”

“Dew tell!” whispered the dupe, far gone with admira-
tion,

“Where is this bat of yours, Reuben?”

Whittaker unbuckled the long leather case acrogs his
knees and very carefully drew into sight an enormous bat.
Bixler, taking the huge white-ash club from the credu-
lous youth, stood for a moment weighing it in his hands.
“Reuben,” said he, “it will cost you ten dollars to have
this made into a sure hitter—a safe single every time
you're at bat. For twenty dollars I'll. guarantee four
three-baggers during a period of nine innings; and for

 

that it will positively smash out three home runs in every

game. Come, my boy, you'll surely not begrudge fifty
dollars to make yourself the phenomenon of the amateur

ball- -playing world? It is a mere bagatelle, when you con-

sider the wonderful results obtained,”

my Whittaker was wonder fully impressed.
gay only got fifty dollars tew my name,”

 

he answered

 

NIE rt > rT
2 iN ft YW [ [E i (
throat—an eerie laugh that seemed to give Whittaker a
chill—and turned the gas higher.

fifty dollars I'll work such an enchantment over the stick

)

t TIS IZT V7

P VU BEKLY 5

hesitatingly, “and I didn’t cal’late to buy more’n five dol-
lars wuth of spells, Drat it! Say, doc, mebby that swat

its Zozo powers so much as I think.”
his eye and sighted
He shook his head

stick ain’t losin’
Bixler leveled the bat in
along it very keenly for a full minute.
sadly.
“Zozo ‘has ability,
well grounded in the abracadabra.
last. Why,

front of

”

observed, “but he isn’t
His enchantments neyer
only the other day a man came here with
one of Zozo’s amulets. He had had it only two weeks,
and its power was almost gone! He gave me a hundred
dollars to fix up the charm for him, and he went right
out. and made five hundred dollars cold cash inside of an
hour! I see that the spazoozum has nearly all evaporated
from this stick. For fifty dollars, Reuben, I can not only
recall its waning powers, but make it better than ever.”

One of the remarkable things about human nature. is
that when the normal brain hits the toboggan of super-
stitious folderol it slips into depths. that are as ludicrous
as they are grotesque, Whittaker, for instance, listened
to this glib swindler, and never cracked a smile.

“Go ahead with the hocus-pocus, doc,” said the gullible
youth. “I cal’late I'll cough up the fifty.”

“Pardon me, Reuben, but my terms are invariably cash,
in advance. He

Whittaker pulled a ten-dollar bill out of one pocket, a
five out of another, and several ones out of still another.
Hie proceeded in this way, collecting from his person his
tribute to quackery, until the last two dollars of the fifty
had been He heaved. a
long sigh as the money was placed in the grasping hand
of Bixler.

“Naow, go ahead,
but I cal’late it’s wuth it.”

Bixler was beaming. Here was a good evening’s work,
and if Whittaker had had any more money the. spell
worker would have contrived to get hold of it. But he
had drained the lad of his-last nickel, and had to be sat-
ished.

“What the swat sticks needs, Reuben,” Bikler explained,
4 swastica—one of the Bixler swasticas.”

“Nao!” exclaimed Whittaker. “I daon’t cal’late I know
whatever a swas-swas-what-yeourcall-it is, “doc.

“T’ll show you.’ }

Bixler went. to the table on which stood the vase, piilled
out a drawer, and removed a piece of red crayon,
on the end of the bat, he drew a geometrical figure, mum-
bling a lot of gibberish all the while he worked.

“There’s the swastica, Reuben,”
the end of. the bat.
and from now on till the end of-time your swat stick is a
wonder and a marvel.”

“What'll happen when the chalk rubs off?”
Whittaker anxiously. \ .

he finally

gathered in very small change.

doc. This spell business is expensive,

inquired

“The bat’s powers will increase, and not diminish, for it 3

has been treated in every - fiber.”
“Then, when I jine Merriwell’s Athletes,”

make a record.”
Bixler jumped, and almost dropped the bat.

eyes.
“Just a minute, Reuben,”
andy to depart.

said he,
“You're a new recruit for Merriwell’s

“team?”

Then,

he said finally, showing.
“It’s the guaranteed Bixler swastica,

chuckled Whit-
taker, “and play in that game tew-morrow, I cal’ late Pit

He inte: ne
hard at Whittaker, while a strange light burned in his, evil oh

ab tee visitor. made Fey

    

 

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all but put him out of business.

-punkins,”

NEW

“Yeou bet yeour boots I be!” was the jubilant response.

“H’m!” muttered Bixler, and dropped into a chair. He

was wondering how he could turn this bit of information
to his own advantage.

CHAPTER ITI.
A PRETTY SCHEME.

Tf Bixler had been a fool he could not have been so
successful in fooling others. He dealt in a sortiof quackery
at which it was very easy to overreach himself, and, in
spite of his shrewdness, he had several times carried his
humbuggery too far.

Only recently young Merriwell had interfered with his
swindling plans. Bixler had been victimizing a wealthy
old man, a veteran of the Civil War, named Tolliver Glory,
and a relative of John Glory, of the Athletes. Merriwell
and young Glory had proved to Tolliver that Bixler was
a fraud, and had saved the aged soldier a large amount of
money which the sharper had wrested from him.

As soon as Bixler’s mask had been stripped away, so
that no doubt was left of his real character, Tolliver had
had him arrested and thrown into jail. But Tolliver, badly
shaken by the exposé, had been compelled to take to his
bed, and the doctor thought it unwise for him to bother
with Bixler. So a compromise with the swindler had been
effected. Bixler returned three thousand dollars of his
ill-gotten gains, and the complaint against him had been
dropped.

This affair resulted in a-notoriety for Bixler which had
He burned with rage
against young Merriwell, and sought to retaliate by using
one Sonora Sam as a tool.

This Sam was a Mexican, a wrestler of counidieaitin
ability, and a member of the Phoenix Amateur Athletes,
of Phoenix, Arizona, an association with which Merriwell’s
team had had a dual meet on Monday afternoon. Mer-
riwell himself had contended with Sonora Sam, in a bout
at catch-as-catch-can, on the sward in front of the grand
stand at the athletic field.

Bixler, during the bout, had tried to use Sonora Sam

as a tool in wreaking vengeance upon Frank. Sam had
been paid a price to seriously injure his antagonist, and
he had tried savagely to bring this about. Much to his
chagrin, however, Frank had not only protected himself
from hatm, but had won the bout quite handiiy.
‘The secret understanding between Bixler and Sonora
Sam had in some way reached the public, and the spook
doctor’s business, already tottering, was in a fair way to
become completely wrecked. Something had to be done
immediately, and Bixler had summoned Sam to a confer-
ence late Monday evening. That conference was in prog-
ress at the time Reuben J. Whittaker called to have the
spell renewed over that prodigious swat stick.

Reuben was what is known, in slang parlance, as an
“easy mark.” But he was destined to be more than that
to Bixler, if the latter handled him cunningly. An oppor-

tunity, promising much benefit to the wily schemer, had

suddenly opened with Whittaker’s announcement that he
was a new recruit for Merriwell’s Athletes,

“Reuben,” said Bixler presently, lying in his usual plausi-
ble manner, “Frank Merriwell, junior, is a ies whom I ad-

_mire exceedingly.”

“T. cal’late everybody allows Chip Merriwell, is some
returned Whittaker, in a glow’ of enthusiasm.

TIP TOP WEEKLY. 7 | 3

“Yeou can bet yeour bottom dollar I’m in a takin’ to get
on his team and tew make good. That’s why I’m havin’
the old swat stick fixed up, doc.” ; 5

“Do you know Merriwell, Reuben?” ;

“Ain’t never sot eyes on him yit.”

“Then what reason have you for thinking he’ll give you
a place on his team?”

“Feller named John Glory
he quit, and is amazin’ anxious tew git some un tew take
his place. He heard of me, and sent a feller named
Weatherby tew give me a tip and head me toward Phoenix.
Weatherby says it’s all right, and that Merriwell is ex-
Never had such a streak of luck before in
all my born days. Only thing that’s botherin’ me is tew
make good, and I guess now with ole Beezum Boo all
fixed up for three-baggers and home runs I’m sartin going
to fill the bill.”

“Beezum Boo?”

“Zozo give that name to the big stick when he treated
it that fust time;’ explained Reuben, grinning.

“Humph! I’m not very well acquainted with the cap-
tain of this roving squad of amateurs, Reuben, but I know
he’s a remarkable lad, and I take a profound interest in
him. The other day, out of curiosity, I cast a horoscope
for him, and what I found in my star readings fairly as-
tounded me.”

“Nao!” exclaimed Whittaker, alarmed by the expression
that had crept over Bixler’s face.

“The planet Saturn, a malign influence, was in the sev-
enth house. That means—that means ’ Bixler’s voice
trailed huskily off into silence, apparently smothered under
a sheer burden of disaster.

“Gosh all hemlocks, doc!” wailed Whittaker, in conster-
nation; “what does it mean?”

“It means, Reuben,’ was the solemn answer, “that if
something isn’t done to stem the tide of disaster, young
Merriwell is going to lose all his athletic prowess! It
means that now, even while his powers are slowly waxing
toward the’zenith of perfection, he is to become a physical
wreck! Horrible, eh? Just so, my lad; but the stars
never lie. It will come to pass.”

“TI ‘want tew knaow!” whispered the lanky youth fran-
tically. “Can’t somethin’ be done? Can’t Merriwell-take
somethin’, or do anythin’ to stave it off?”

Bixler was watching keenly to see what effect his words
had on Whittaker. Would he swallow all that outrageous
talk, or would his Yankee common sense, slumbering
somewhere in the depths of his nature, arise in protest?

But Whittaker, with Beezum Boo over his shoulder,
was toboganning wildly into the depths of buncombe and >
occult foolishness. He was in a mood just then to be-
lieve anything. Bixler chuckled inwardly, and continued:

“There is a way to cheat the malign influence of Saturn,
Reuben.”

“Haow ?”

“Listen attentively. You are anxious to maké.a hit with
Merriwell, I suppose?”

“The swat stick will make ‘the hits, doc.
will make me solid with Merriwell.”

‘But suppose you could save Merriwell from this threat-
ened disaster? Suppose, unknown to him, you warded off
the evil influences? I find, from the aspect of the heavens,
that the disintegration of Merriwell’s powers is due to
begin during the game with the Hassayampers to-morrow
afternoon. Suppose you made it possible for Merriwell

belonged on the team, but

pectin’ me.

 

I cal’late that

  
   
 

4 ; NEW TIP

to play one of the most brilliant games of his career
‘to-morrow, and then, afterward, you told hint how fate
had threatened him, and how you had come to the rescue?
Wouldn’t he think you were just about the best friend
he ever had?”

Whittaker’s eyes glistened, and his lanky form straight-
ened instinctively in his chair. He dropped the end of
his bat on the floor with a rousing thump.

“T cal’late that would be jest about the slickest thing
that ever happened, doc!” he exclaimed. “But haow kin
I do it?”

“Pll tell you.”

Bixler arose from his chait and went to a cupboard
swinging against the wall. ‘He worked there for a few
minutes, hiding the guileful, triumphant grin that wreathed
his lips. When he returned to his dupe he had a white
powder folded into a scrap of yellow, paper.

“This,” he said, holding up the folded paper, “is the
antidote for misfortunes like Merriwell’s. To-morrow, an
hour or an hour and a half before the game, you must
contrive to drop this into a glass of water. Merriwell
must drink it, but you must be clever enough not to let
him know the first thing about it. Can you do that,
Reuben ?” ; .

“T dunno,” answered Whittaker. “I kin try, I guess.”
“A great deal depends upon your success. You must
carefully keep from Merriwell everything connected with
your efforts. Don’t say a word about me, and don't

breathe a whisper about how I have made your swat stick

isk. by

 

te invincible. Act secretly, and the results will be most re-

~ markable.”

ae “T’'11 do the best I kin, yeou can bet yeour last copper
on that.”

“Treasure the nisatiste carefully,” warned Bixler, put-
ting the folded paper in Whittaker’s hand, “and not a
word about it to anybody until after the game. Then, after

‘the glorious playing Merriwell will do, you can tell him
about the fate that threatened him, and how you saved
the day. It will make you the hero of the hour, my lad!”

3 _A glow pervaded the thin, sun-browned facé of Whitta-
ker. Carefully he slipped the enchanted swat stick into
- its case, buckled the cover. down, and then placed the

powder inside an old wallet and deposited the wallet in

- the breast pocket of his coat. — '

. -“Yeou’re a tiptop fine feller, doc,” said he, reaching out
“his hand. “With Merriwell twirlin’ a hair-raisin’ game

tew-morrow afternoon, and with old Beezum Boo smashin’

out hore runs, I cal’late them Hagsayampers will have
about as much chance as a snowflake in a kittle of D’ilin’

. water, Yeou’ll have tew charge up the price of that anec-

Mes ‘dote——”

_ “Antidote, Revben. There’s no charge for that. I’m glad

-. do a little something to help young Merriwell.”

* “Yeou have sure got a subsoil araound “yg heart a

- - feller couldn’t break through with a pickax.

tew yeou, doc.”

_. “When are you. going 6 join Merriwell’s teath oe
“Party late tew-night, so I cal’late to hit that private

keer in the railroad yards bright and airly tew-morrow

  
   
  
    
  
  
   
 

git the powder intew a glass of water and coax Merri-
| tew _dtink it, but Vm purty cute, if I do vei; it my-
and I cal’late I'll mariage.”

“That's: the eel retired | Bixler approvingly. ; “Now,

TOP

‘ part by this other one—it leads into the same hall.”

' watching you, my buck. When you were out at. abet
I'm obleeged

mornin’, Of course, I ain’t a notion haow I’m goin’ to-
him or maim him——’ . 4) Mise

; ‘ “T wouldn't take your word about anything under oath,

and ae can tell Sonora, er to be on his 6a Cen

\4
+

RE IRR te

WEEKLY.

2

Just here another knock fell on the hall door. It was
a bluff, emphatic summons, and a shiver. of foreboding
ran through the faker. He had a guilty conscience, and
his fears read into that knock a menace that disturbed
him greatly.

“Some one else,” he murmured, for Whittaker’s benefit,
“seeking the fount of mystic wisdom! Many, many come
to me with their troubles, and I do not send them away
disappointed. Don’t go out by that door, Reuben. De-

baie cei

}
:

Hastily he conducted Whittaker to a crimson curtain
that screened another exit. Drawing aside the curtain, he
unlocked and opened the door.

“T ain’t never a-going tew forget yeou, doc,” declared
Whittaker, halting in a spasm of gratitude and grasping
the swindler’s hand. tees

“I know you won't; Reuben,” returned Bixler. “Good-
by!” he added, and the next moment the door was closed
aud Whittaker was in the hall.

Bixler’s next move was to get to the other door and i
admit the second caller before the first should encounter.
him on the way out of the building. But the spook doctor
might have saved himself his hurry.

The other door had opened suddenly, and a man had ‘,
stepped unceremoniously into the “temple of mystery.”
The man was a businesslike-appearing person, and he wore
a blue uniform and spofted a nickel-plated star on his left
breast. Bixler’s fears, it seemed, had been well grounded,

 

penis fe aa

a

CHAPTER III,

THE LAW'S AUTHORITY.

ee

oe

“Why didn’t you let me in when I knocked?” demanded —
the man with the star sharply. .

“You did not give me time,” answered Bixler.

The other looked at him sneeringly, almost contemptu-
ously.

“Thought I heard you talking in here. Probably you
wete stringing some poor fool and getting out of him the
last cent he had. You're the worst kind of a thief, Bixler.
I’ve got a certain amount of respect for an out-and-out
footpad who will knock a man down before robbing him _
~a fellow like that is no hypocrite, but has the nerve to”
stand for’what he is, You're different. You're a skulk-
ing, two-faced hound, and you rob the ignorant, the su-—
perstitious, and the foolish in the meanest kind of way. BA oeces
You ought to be proud of yourself, Bixler.’’ va Ae

The man in red tried to appear indignant, but it was a _ ro
poor effort. ;

‘Do you mean to insult me?” he demanded.

The other laughed.

“It’s impossible to do that,” he answered.
‘Lacey, and I'm from police headquarters.

et

 

     

ey eae

    
     

 

“My name's
We've been

        
    

Place you were out of our bailiwick, and it was the ep pial

business to keep an eye on you, but you can bet a rabbit's
foot that you haven't lost our eyes a second since you
got back from the country. Tolliver Glory ought to shave”
sent you over, the road, but he’didn’t. In order to. be res
venged on young Merriwell you hing Soriora Sam to cme .

”

      
  
   
  
 

  

   
    
  
    
  

    
 

“That yarn is a lie!” barked the ‘angry “inystic.? Woke

  

Bixler. I’m pretty sure there’s some truth in- the story,

    
    

a

ic gegen tS in

 

ne

up!

course he'll wake up, and he won’t be hutt

   
 

  

NEW

 

during that ball gatne to-morfow or he'll get himself into

than he can take care of. As for you,
Bixler, you've got just twenty-four hours to pack up ‘your
htocus-pocus gimeracks and shake the dust of. this town
off your feet. If you’re here at this hour to-morrow
we'll have you ih the jug!”

“This is malicious peftsecution!”

more trouble

declared Bixler.
Your heart’s as black as your magic, atid you’re
a skinner from Skinnerville. Personally, [ hope you'll
stay, doc. Id like the chance fo pry into your past and
find something that would put you in stir for about twetity
yeats. I gttess that will be all.”

The officer laughed harshly, walked to the door, and let
himself out. Bixler’s eyes flashed, and he muttered wrath-
fully; then he shook his fist at the closed door. through
which the officer had taken his leave. A réd curtain was
twitched aside, and the head of Sonora Sam was pushed
into view.

“Caramba!” gurgled the Mexican. “Dat p’leeceman |
not like. I get into trouble by work for you.”

“Trouble!” snapped Bixler. “Why, you confounded
oiler, you don’t know what trouble is. Yot’re all right,
but see where your bungling work puts me. If you’d kept
a still tofigue between your teeth no one would have known
of our work against Merriwell, and I’d not have been
ordered to leave town.”

“Me, I tell rot’in’,” declared Sam,
room,

“Then how did the story get out?”
agely.

“Quien sabe?” and Sam hunched up his shouldets and
spread out his hands.

“Well, growled Bixler, in fierce discontent, “I’ve got to
leave Phoenix—lI’ve got to let ’ém drive me out—but ll
make a big winning before I go, You can help if you
want to, Sam.”

“T not like to get Americano p’leece dowh on me ” de-
murred the Mexican.

“I'll fix it so they wont’ be down on you. Do as I say,
and the whole business will be smoothed over, and you ll

“Go on!

advancing into the

gritted the other sav-

stand in with the bluecoats a whole lot better than you

do now.”

“Madre mia,” whispered Sam, “you got me scare’.
is de powder you give for Merriwell?”

For the moment, Bixler had forgotten that Sam was so
close to recent events that he could hear, and, if he de-
sired, see all that had been going forward.

“That powder ?” returned Bixler. “Don’t fret about that.
If the fool farmer manages to get it into Merriwell’s
drink, an hour or an hour and a halt later the star pitcher
of’ the Athletes will go to sleep, and be out of the game.”

“Ay de mi!” gasped Sam.

i
“What do you take me for—a blooming idiot? Of
a patticle. But

he’ll not pitch that game against the Hassayampers.

- Sonora Sam’s black eyes glistened.
“Me, I pitch for de Hassayampers,” said he.
} oe want to win your game, don’t you?”

W'at

“He sleep and he not wake

With |

their crack backstop, Pennyworth, out of it, and with this
cub, John Glory, still hung up at Bonita Place, this bunch
of roving ball players are going to be right up against it.
ane Hassayamperts will win, Sam, and it’s only this bit
“i ee fine work of mine that makes winning possible for the
‘ local team.” ; \

eee Aa

tube was’ weak-minded—in all the time I’ve been in this ©

will go into the game to-morrow afternoon trusting every-

WEEKLY: 5

Teas ad
but I win de game, and I be
sute de Hassayampers win?”

“There’s tio doubt about it at all.”

“But”—and Sarn’s face fell—“p'leeceman got suspicions
of me.”

“Lult those suspicions, Sam,” went on Bixler cunningly.

“Lull? No sabe dat. Wat is lull?”

“Otiet the suspicions, smooth them down,

de wrestle,
You

give mucho to win dat game. I lose
all right once more.

make every-
body think you're a friend, and not an enemy, of Merri-
well’s.”

“Dat is fot possible! How I make such a feeling, eh?”

“Why, before the game. to-morrow, Sam, you go: to
this private car of the Athletes. Ask for Merriwell.
When you see him, tell him what a fine wrestler he is,
that he is a better man than you, and that you want to
be friends with him. That’s the sort of stuff he’s sure
to fall for. He'll take you into camp with open arms.”
Bixler chuckled. “Oh, you'll pull the wool over his eyes,
all right!” he added.

“Dat make p’leece think I’m a\good muchacho, eh?”
queried the Mexican, blinking.

“Sure it will.”

“Den w’en Merriwell go to sleep, p’leece maybe think I
put him to sl lay skin game.”

Sonora Sam was showing a keenness in analyzing pos-
sible results that surprised Bixler.

“Bosh!” protested Bixler; “no one will have any notion
of the kind. You simply go to Merriwell in a friendly
way and patch up. your differences with him. You'll be
doing a fine thing, and no one will suspect you of under-
hand work.”

“Well, I go to-morrow before de game. \W’at you do?”

“That call of yours at the car will start things very
nicely for me, I’ye got to dig out. To-morrow night, at
this time, I mtst be on my way to the coast. But I'll

                   

make a big winning, Sam, and I’m willing to share some .

of the profits with you.”

“How you make dat big winning?”

“By backing the Hassayampers to win. All up and
down Washington Street the sports are betting money on
that ball game to-morrow. Merriwell’s players are fa-—
vorites in the betting, and they offer four to oné. I’ve got’
a tidy sum laid by. You see,” and a wily smile crossed

Bixler’s pudgy face, “I got five ‘thousand from old Glory, ie

and settled with him’ for three. That left me a lot to the

good. I can put that two thousand down on the Hassay-

ampers, oe down my winnings, and take the evening train

west. Qh, it’s a cinch!” pine
“W’y you ies dat bat for de Yanqui?” decsbited Saas ;

“Dat not help to win game for Hassayampers.”
Bixler laughed gleefully.

“You're not fool enough to think that Vea able ” inlet Hs

that swat stick a sire hitter, are you?” he asked. “That
business I never saw stich an easy mark. He swallowed |
everything I told him, hook, line, and sinker. When I saw
how easy he was, I worked that Merriwell dodge. I didn’t
think, then, of backing the Hassayampers, but of doing Be
a little something to get even with that buttinsky, con- ;
found him! All my troubles here are due fo him. When.
the officer came and ordered me out of town, I decided
to make a big clean-up before I go. Everything is work- |
ing in good shape for that. This Whittaker person, Sam,

  

    
       
 
       
      
  

 

 

 

—

6 *

thing to his big ash club. He'll look like a freak when
he faces you with that bat, and you'll strike him out. I
know you're a classy pitcher, and I know the rest of the
Hassayampers are good players. Your team is bound to
win, with Merriwell, Pennyworth, and Glory out of the
playing on the other side.”

This was very pleasing news to the Mexican. He was
wild to’ retrieve the prestige he had lost by losing the
wrestling match to Merriwell on the afternoon of that day.
And then, the glory of twirling a winning game against
the noted rovers! Some scout for the big leagues might
be watching, and recommend Sonora Sam as promising
material for a try-out on diamonds where to make good
would mean something really worth while!

“Dat is muy bueno!” breathed the Mexican.
make any dinero? I got no money to bet.”

“Tip off some of your friends in the Mexican quarter,”
suggested Bixler, “and fix it for them to give you a share
of what they take in.”

Sam’s eyes glittered greedily.

“Si, I do dat.”

“But, mind,” went on Bixler sharply, “that you do not
breathe a whisper of what’s going on. The news would
get.out, and spoil everything. Just tell your friends, Sam,
that you've got a tip regarding what’s to happen. The
Americano sports on Washington Street are pretty clever,
and if they got wind of our scheme the odds would drop.
Caution your friends to keep what you tell them mighty
quiet.”

“Dey will not talk,” declared Sam.

“And if you play your best,” proceeded Bixler, “and
clean up on the Merriwell crowd, I’ll give you a hundred
dollars just as a gratuity.”

“Gracias!”

“But don’t forget to call on Merriwell before the game
and make friends with him. This is going to help lull
suspicion. See? I’ve been ordered out of the town, and
the police will not bother much with me, except to make
sure that I leave inside the time limit.” Bixler laughed.
“T’ll do that, of course. And when I pull out I’m going
to go well heeled.”

Sonora Sam was feeling in as good spirits as was Bixler,
and the pair shook -hands and congratulated themselves,
But they had forgotten that there is many a slip ’twixt
the cup and the lip, and that the results of their scheming
hinged upon several contingencies. They were taking alto-
gether too much for granted.

‘Some surprises were in store for Bixler and Sam.

“W’ere I

CHAPTER IV.
THE NEW RECRUIT.

“We’ye got men enough to play, Rufus,” said Frank,
“but we'll have to send Hop and Joe, our second string
pitchers, into the field. Hop, as you know, is all right
anywhere we put him, but our port-side twirler is a bit
lost whenever he wanders away from the mound.”

“Not a word from Pennyworth?” asked Horton, the
manager.

“Not a word.”
“Looks like he didn’t intend to come back, Chip. Evi-

dently he’s still nursing that grouch.”
Merriwell’s face became gloomy. Arlo Pennyworth, the -

cowboy catcher, was proving a distinct disappointment to

him.

4

‘in his place.

   

NEW: TIP “TOP: WEEKLY.

The captain and the manager were discussing prospects
for the afternoon in the'stateroom of the Cleansport.
Through the windows of the stateroom they had a good
view of the vacant lot where the Athletes were batting
and slamming the horsehide around in snappy fashion.

Pennyworth had left the team, the day before, in a fit
of the sulks. He had asked Merry, as a special favor, to
let him contest the running high jump in the “carnival
of sports” against Pedro Bite the Grass, a Pima Indian,
and an old rival of Penn’s. But Merry had already prom-
ised that Nod Coddington should represent the Athletes in
that event. However, he allowed Coddington and Penny-
worth to jump against each other, the better man to try
conclusions with the Pima. Coddington had worsted
Pennyworth, in the trials, and the cowboy, in a temper,
had taken his belongings and left the car.

Frank was fully convinced that Penn would come back
as soon as his temper had cooled and he had had a chance
to think matters over; but so far the lad had not put in
an appearance. It surprised Frank to discover that the
cowboy was such a poor sportsman, or that he should
place his own private desires above the interests of the
team.

Had Pennyworth contested the high jump against the
Indian, he would have lost, for Coddington had had all
he could do to snatch victory from defeat. As it was, the
Athletes were successful in the majority of events by only
the scdntiest margin.

“I don’t know what the mischief has got into Penn,”
said Frank, “and I don’t want to talk about him. I still
think hell come back, but we can’t figure on haying him
in this game. I’ll take Rodno out of left field and put him
behind the bat, and Joe will have to go into the outfield
Hop, as usual, will be our second sacker.
Darn it!, I wish Glory was on hand to help out.”

“Where’s that substitute he was going to send us?”

“Haven't seen a sign of the substitute. Weatherby was
to get the fellow, and I haven’t heard a word from Weath-
erby, either. If I had time, I'd go out to Bonita Place
and see what I could learn about that new recruit. I
understood the fellow would have to make quick connec-
tions if he gave us a hand against the Hassayampers—he
wasn’t to be expected until late last night or early this

morning. But here it is ten o'clock, and the substitute —
and Merriwell drew a

>

hasn’t materialized, Well, Rufus,’
long breath of resignation, “we'll have to do the best we
can with what material we've got.
As a south paw he’s a wonder, but in the field or at bat
he’s a good deal of a joke. I might let him pitch, and go
into the field myself.”

“No, you don’t!” said Horton decidedly. “Sonora Sam
twirls for the Hassayampers, and I hear he has a fine
bag of tricks. Neither Joe nor Hop pitches this after-
noon. We've got to win, and you're the boy for the
mound. See how it is, don’t you? We had a hard time
getting away with our honors yesterday, and we've got
to prove our mettle this afternoon in a manner as deci-
sive as possible. Of course we're handicapped. But it is

our boast that we are all-around athletes, and we mustn’t

try to shield ourselves behind a run of hard luck.”

' Merriwell did not reply. He was staring hard at the

boys on the vacant lot. Horton, seeing the captain so
absorbed, turned his own eyes to a window.

“For the love of Mike,” murmured Frank, “where did
that gangle-legged, double-jointed chap come from?”

Joe’s a weak point.

 
  
  
  
  
   
   
   
    
   
   
   
  
 
 
   
   
  
  
  
  
   
   
  
  
   
 
   
  
 
  
 
   
   
  
  
 

eS a

 

-—-——- «-
Saree by

ae

S eaeEnEnT ee _

-

 
   
        
      
       
     
2S ee

 

Rod and \Keenan had been batting flies and ‘rounders
to the rest of the Athletes. They were. now standing to
one side, grinning, while a stranger was making signs to

the Athletes to get back, *’way back.
; The stranger was very tall and very awkward. He wore
that

and is usually

a straw hat, with a flaring brim—the sort of panama
can be picked up anywhere for ten cents,
drawn in at the crown with a shoestring.

The lad’s clothes were too big for him one way, and
too small the other. Yarn socks wrinkled over his bat-
tered low shoes, and a large expanse of lean wrists was
visible below the ends of his coat sleeves.

“He must have been one of the bystanders, Chip,”
marked Horton, indicating a little crowd of townspeople
who were watching the Athletes practice.

“T suppose so,” answered Frank; “but he’s not much
like the rest of the citizens. He must be ctazy, the way
he’s sending the boys back. He’s got them almost to the
fence, and he couldn’t send a ball that far if he was to
use a catapult.”

The Yale man laughed.

“He's pushing up his sleeves and moistening his hands
for a big effort,” said he.

“His sleeves wouldn’t be in the way if he didn’t push
’em up. He dangles around as though he was hung on
wires.” cs aaa

“He ought to be mowing the alfalfa,” chuckled. Horton.
“T’ll bet he doesn’t hit the ball once in three times, or——”

The words died on Horton’s lips, for just then the
stranger did something that was quite spectacular. In-
; stead of tossing the ball up before him, in the usual way,

he flopped it, with seeming awkwardness, from behind,

and over his shoulder, using his left hand. The bat sawed

3 _.the air and met the ball with a crack that sounded like
the report of a rifle.

 

=

a ig ey

annie

iin tata

The ball had plunged away into the air, and the Ath-
_ letes who were nearest to its line of flight rushed to get
under it. But taking that fly in out of the wet was im-

possible, for it had cleared the fence.

‘The grins faded from the faces of Rodno and Keenan.
$s While the Athletes vaulted the fence and began looking
for the ball, the stranger danced a few steps of a “hoe-
down,” then balanced the bat: on his chin, flung it upward
te with a flirt of his head so that it turned end for end in

| “Jupiter!” exclaimed Frank.

fis “Well, ll be hanged!” muttered the astounded man-
i ager.

(i '

|

1M the air, and caught it upright on his forearm. Then ‘he
>. wound up his vaudeville performance by catching «the

picking up a long, limp object from the ground,
The ball came back, and the admiring yells of the Ath-
letes flew with it, but the stranger paid no attention as
_ Rodno picked up the sphere and made as though he would
~ toss it to him. "The lanky youth could be seen speaking
to Rod, and the latter turned and pointed. toward the
Cleansport. Then the stranger started stumblingly for the
car, slipping the bat into its case as he moved along.
“By George, Chip!” observed the Yale man, withdraw-
ing his eyes to fasten them wonderingly upon Frank,
fellow is coming this way. Do you suppose—~”
. Frank nodded.
au) my get your idea, Rufus," he broke in,
ing: about that, myself’

rE

“the

ae

   

“and I’m wonder-

nen

swat stick by the handle, tucking it under his arm, and '

me Ae stranger reached the forward end of the car, and :

Pkt aah

NEW" TIP. TOP WEEE

- note ran as follows:

Si gr SS ee as be cnt aor ee

 

   
 
      
   
 
    
     
  
   
  
   
   
  
   
   
   
 
   
  
  
   
   
  
    
  
  
   
 
 
   
  
   
  
  
  
  
   
   
   
   
   
     
  

r y

ey 7
his voice could; be 1 cling with that of Mose, the
darky chef, porter, mascot. A moment later

 

lea
ing the eraiee aed.

and feet could
A knock fell on the

the: car rocked as some one xed aboard,
be heard approach
door.
“Well?” called H
The didn opened,

orton.
and }

The mascot was showing h

“Marse

Tena ,

king fo’ you and }

“Send him in,”

fose thrust in his kinky head.
broad grin.
out heah

ivories in
a genulman
Marse Merriwell,”’
Horton.

is a

Rufus,” .said he, “dar’s
as
answered
Mose withdrew, and the stranger stumbled through the
door, fell over a snit case, and collided headforemost with
Horton.
“*Scuse me,
himself together,
ever since | kin remember.
“No,” answered Horton,
well,” and he nodded toward
“Then he’s the feller I’m

mister,” - said the awkward. chap, pulling
feet’s been in the -way
Be yeou Chip Merriwell?”

“That’s Chip Merri-

“but my allers
smiling.
Frank.
a-huntin’.” The stranger ex-
tracted a letter from the inside pocket of his coat and
passed it to Merry. “Cast yeour peepers over that,” he
added, “and-I cal’late yeou’ll know who I be.”

“Sit down, old man,” said Frank, “and make yourself.
comfortable. Lean that club of yours in the corner.”

“Nao,” replied the other, falling into a seat, “yeou kin
bet yeour whiskers I daon’t let old Beezum Boo git out of
my hands. Why, I eat with that swat stick, and-I sleep
with it nights.”

He stood the bat in its case between his knees and waited
while Merriwell digested the contents of the letter.. The

”

“Dear Cure: The bearer of this is Reuben J. “Whitta-
ker, the new recruit Weatherby secured for the Athletes.
He-isn’t much on looks, and he’s so loose in the joints that 4
he falls all over himself, but his: batting average is about |
a thousand and two, and out among the ranches they ¢all
him Home-run Reuben. Try him out. You'll find him a
heap -better than you ever found. Jown -Gtory,” —

Merry jumped up, handed the letter to Horton, and
reached out to grab Whittaker by the hand,

“I’m mighty glad to meet you, Whittaker,” said he.

“We've nace expecting you, but were on the abs of -giy-
ing you up.” a4

“I want to knaow!” answered Reuben: “Whatever pos-
sessed yeou to think that Reuben J. would pass up a chance —
tew git in line with yeour ctowd of Athletes? Gosh all
jewsharp! Say, yeou couldn’t have fit me off. Overslept. i
this mornin’, ‘count of, bein’ up late last night, but when’
I git started I gen’rally arrive. Cal’late V’ll dew?”

“If you can put many of them over the fence, just: as
we saw you do from the window, I guess you'll do, with —
ground to spare. Eh, Rufus? W hivtaker, shake hands
with Rufus Horton, our manager.

“Glad as blazes;” said Reuben J., reaching for the Yale |
man‘s hand, “Takin? me by and large, I cal’late I ain't.
much to look at, and I wouldn’t be much, nuther, if it~
wa'n’t for the spell in the swat stick. I won't jine under ~
no false ideas, I’m straight and squar’, and yeon got tew
know all about. me before yeou take me on, See?” oe

“You're all right, Reuben,” returned Horton, “Chip is.
satisfied, and whatever suits him, suits me plumb. Siete $07
the ies =

 

 

    
        
 
   

   
  

  
       
      
 

 

 

8 ‘ NEW: TIP. POP: WEEKLY,

“Yeou got to know all abaout me, jest the same,” in-
sisted Whittaker, “and then if yeou hanker tew have me
with yeou, we'll splice.”

“All right,” said Frank, highly amused, “if that’s the
‘way you feel, Whittaker, go ahead and tell us about your-
self.”

CHAPTER V.
HOME-RUN WHITTAKER’S CONFESSION.

“T was allers a humly kid,” began Whittaker, “and paw
useter say I was abaout as smart as I was good-lookin’.
He also allowed, a good many times, that I knowed as
much as anybody, if I could only think of it. He was a
tollable hand tew joke, but I cal’late he hit it purty close
in my case. Everybody knaows I’m humly enough tew
stop a clock, so I won’t be nao ornament to yeour team,
and I ain’t overly bright, and yeou ain’t a-goin’ tew be
proud of me ’cause I’m so gosh-hanged clever. I want
yeou to understand that, Merriwell, right from the jump.”

“Handsome is as handsome does, Reuben,” returned
Frank, struggling to keep down a laugh, “and from the
way you batted that one ball out on the lot I'll keep my
own opinion about your cleverness.”

“IT was jest cuttin’ capers., So fur as real ball playin’”
goes I’m a frost. That there swat stick is my strong
holt.”

“Well, you’re pretty good with it.”

“Nao, it’s tother way araound, Merriwell. The swat
stick is purty good with me. It’s all in the stick.”

“All in the stick?”

“Sartin. It’s an enchanted swat stick, and a blind man
could hammer aout home runs with it. It ain’t really me
but the big bat yeou’re a-takin’ on. The bat’s mine, and
yeou have tew take me if yeou git it.”

A blank look crossed Frank’s face. He looked at Rufus
and found him in the same bewildered state of mind.

_ “What position do you play on a team, Reuben?” Frank
asked. |

“Anywheres in the aout field,” was the answer, “but,
honest, I ain't wuth my salt except when I’m facin’ a

pitcher with ole Beezum Boo.”

“What's that?”

“It’s the name Zozo give to this ole reliable swat stick.
Zozo’s a wizard, and/he lives in Denver. I give him five
dollars tew put a charm on the bat. The charm was kinder
peterin’ aout till I got it fixed up agin’ here in Phoenix.”

Whittaker’s long face had grown very solemn. Frank
laughed outright, but Horton stared at the new recruit
as though he thought he must be crazy. |

“You really think this Zozo charmed the bat so it can’t
fail to make a hit?” Frank queried.

“T daon’t think,” said Whittaker, with emphasis, “I

_knaow. I’ve proved it, by kelter.”

“Let’s have a look at Beezum Boo.” ,
Whittaker promptly unbuckled the leather case and

_ pulled out the big stick. He handed it to Merry, and
- the latter looked it over curiously. The chalk marks on
the end attracted his attention.

“What's that?” he asked.
_ Whittaker’s voice sank to an awesome whisper as he

 

replied: :
| “Them’s the repairs.”

“Repairs”

“Um-huh! Zozo’s charms didn’t last; I missed a coupie

.

of balls, t’other day, and I had tew take the bat to an-
other wizard and have the gaps in Zozo’s work fixed up.
Them marks are a sign the club is in apple-pie order, The
feller that put ’em there said they was a swas-swas-
swas * Whittaker floundered: and finally gave it up.
“Darned if I kin recomember what he did call ’em.”

“Swastica,” suggested Frank, with difficulty keeping a
straight face.

“Yeou’ve hit it!” exclaimed Whittaker.

“Reuben,” went on Frank, “are you really in earnest,
or are you just trying to put over a joke on Rufus and

 

/ me?”

“Joke nothin’. Daon’t yeou believe in charms, and things
like that?”
“No; and I’m surprised that you take any stock in such
foolishness.”
“I’ve proved it ain’t foolishness,” answered Whittaker
stoutly. “I’m tellin’ you the truth. I ain’t goin’ tew jine
this team on no misunderstandings. If yeou daon’t want

‘me, jest speak right up, and I’ll go back tew the ranch.”
“We do want you,” said Frank, “but I think I can prove ©

that you’ve been fooled by swindlers, who made you swal-
low a lot of rot in order to get money out of you.”

“Nao, yeou couldn’t prove that tew me,” returned Whit-

taker, shaking his head emphatically, “not in a thousand
years.”
“Very well, Reuben, we'll let it go at that. “This after-
noon we're going to give you a try-out, and if the bat
makes good, then we'll give it a place on the team—and
you along with it. Come out to the lot while I intro-
duce you to the rest of your teammates.”

“Go yeou!”

Frank had examined the bat carefully. He now re-
turned it to the credulous countryman, and the latter
slipped it solicitously into its case, took case and contents
under his arm, and followed Frank out of the car.

Fifteen minutes later Frank was back in the stateroom.
He dropped into a seat and laughed till he choked.

“Reuben J. is the limit!” he declared.

“Do you think he’s as big a fool as he tries to make

out, Chip?” asked Horton, in a tone of disgust.

“In one way he is. He really believes that club is in-
vincible, and that some ie these fake star gazers have
made it so.”

“As long as he’s filled with that nonsense he'll never
make a ball player.” /

"Well, I don’t know, Rufus,” mused Frank. “I’ve seen.

a lot of good ball players that crowded superstition pretty
hard.”

“But I gather, from, his fool talk, that he just slops
around on the diamond and lets the enchanted swat stick
do the heft of the work.”

“Naturally,” said Frank, smiling, “it’s ihc J. who
does the work, and he gives all the credit to that charmed
club.”
aa tt ver mighty sad commentary on_ his nigene?
growled the Yale man.

“Sure it is; but we can cure Reuben of that crimp in

‘\is common sense. I.was overtown last evening and picked
up three or four new bats. In the sporting-goods place
I saw a big club swinging over the counter for an adver-

tisement. If that giant swat stick was bruised up a little —
and rubbed in the dirt it would be almost a dead ringer

for Beezum Boo. When Reuben wanted a stick to take

 

my

 

len

9S Gp ESO Sh

 

 

 
 

a

ae

ew iy

to the charm worker, he must/have bought one of those
advertising novelties.”
Foseipl -.

“Now,” continued Frank, “I’ve got a plot, Rufus. A
little while before we start for the ball grounds I want you
to send Whittaker in here to me. Try and pry him loose
from that bat for a few minutes, so that when he comes
to the stateroom you'll have the stick in charge.”

“What’s the scheme, Chip?”

Frank dropped his voice, and, in a few words, revealed
his plot to the manager. Horton slapped his hands de-
lightedly.

“Good!” he cried. “If that scheme can be worked suc-
cessfully, Chip, it will do Reuben J. Whittaker more good
than anything that ever happened to him. Life is a serious
game, at best, and it’s pretty sad to see.a youngster begin
his career with the wild notion that some wizard, or
crystal gazer, can work an incantation and lead him to
success by a short cut. The quicker that nonsense is
knocked out of Whittaker, the better. I’ll do my best to
help you.”

A moment later, Frank dropped off the front platform
of the Cleansport and started for town. Mose was lean-
ing over the brake wheel and watching the practice on
the lot.

“Marse Merriwell,” he observed, “dat ’ar new recruit
is shore gwineter make a record for hisself on dis hyer
team. Ah féel it in mah bones, yassuh.”

“You could never tell that by the looks of him, Mose,”
answered Frank, “so the tip must have come from some-
where else.”

“Ah reasons it out, sah, from de way he hits de ball.
Ever’ time he makes er swipe wif dat ’ar bludgeon ob his,
dat fool ball jess nacherly takes wings and climbs out
ob sight. In all mah bawn days Ah never seed anything
like de way dat clodhoppah hits. Golly! Look a’ dat!”

Whittaker was batting flies and grounders and putting
them at will in all parts of the field. He was giving the
Athletes plenty of exercise, and it was necessary for them
to pull down the flies close to the fence, and his grounders
fairly smoked.

Frank climbed the fence and dropped in close to where
Coddington and Dill were waiting for something to come
their way.

“What do you think of Whittaker?” he inquired.

“His middle name is jay, all right,’ answered Codding-
ton, “but there are more long knocks in that club of his
than you'll find in the anvil chorus. Wonder if he has a
good eye for a pitched ball?” .

“We'll see,’ Frank answered.

“This Reuben J., he looks a lot like a bale of hay; but
when he hits the ball a swat, he’s apt to knock it off the
lot. »

This, of course, was Billy Dill’s comment. He had to
shorten his doggerel a little in order to connect with a
sky-scraping fly.. Frank went on and called to Rodno
to get behind Whittaker and freeze on to a oe pitched
balls,

Rod grinned broadly as he went to his place. Reuben

also grinned, and pushed his flapping straw hat on the
back of his head.

“Send in yeour fancy ones, Chip,” he shouted, “and I'll

show yeou what Home-run Whittaker is good fur.”

Merry wound up and sent in a very deceptive drop.

ee

 

okey a beth neyeet eine se PRS ee ate

    
    
  
   
   
  
 
   
   
  
   
  
    
  
  
   
  
    
 
   
 
  
  
    
  
  
  
   
   
  
  
   
  
   
  
   
 
   
   
   
    
 
 
  
   
   

NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY. 9

Down eame old Beezum, Boo, flashing in a three-quarter
circle, and—the ball sailed over the fence!

Frank was mystified, and Neil Rodno hugged himself,
and marveled as he watched the flight of the horsehide.
When the sphere came back, Frank handed Reuben an out-
shoot—a strike coaxer. But Reuben reached it with that
long bat, and again the ball dropped on the far side of
the fence.

“T guess that will do,”
the street.

“Yeou didn’t pass me up any hard ones,” complained the
new recruit.

“Trouble with you is, Reuben,” Frank answered, “you
don’t know a hard one when you see it.”

“IT daon’t see any of ’em! «I jest smash away, and the
swat stick does the rest.”

Merriwell was puzzled. Either Whittaker was a phe-
nomenal batsman, or else that swat stick was really en-
chanted. Naturally, Frank was not foolish enough to
think that the bat did the work, so he went away. con-
gratulating himself on having acquired a most remark-
yable hitter for the team.

observed Frank, and started for

CHAPTER VI.
A BLUNDER OF CHANCE. |

It was noon when Merriwell returned to the Cleansport.
From the railroad station he first reconnoitered the vicinity
of the car and made sure that all the other Athletes were
aboard, then he approached rapidly, walking along the sid-
ing so that he might not be seen from the car windows.

There was a laugh in his dark eyes as he quickly and
deftly pushed under the car a long paper-wrapped parcel
which he had brought from town. With empty hands he
jumped to the steps, and, on entering the traveling home
of the team, almost stumbled over Villum Kess.

The Dutch boy was surrounded by a smell of arnica.
One of his.knees was bare, and he had been dressing an
ugly bruise on his leg.

“How’s the game knee, Villum?” Frank queried.

“I don’d know I got vone, Chip,” was the answer. “I
vas aple to blay in der game, you bet me.”

“You are, eh? Let me see you walk.”

Villum arose promptly: and tried, with heroic determina-
tion, to walk without limping, and without showing in
his face that the attempt hurt him. He was unsuccessful.

“You for the benches this afternoon, Villum,” said Frank.

“Ach du lieber!” barked Villum. “Chip, you von’t keep
me oudt schust pecause oof a knee vish don’d hurt?”

“You can put on your uniform, but you'll cool your heels
unless one of our boys has to be taken out. A little too
much strain on that leg now, old man, and you'll be laid
up for a month,”

Villum knew there was no. dodging that decision. He

had been hurt while doing a mile run on the preceding

afternoon, and the injury had cost him the race. Since
the evening before he had been using arnica freely, for he
had been afraid that something like this might happen.
As Frank went on, Villum groaned, dropped back in his
chair, and picked up the cloth with which he was bathing
the hurt.

“See vat a trouble it makes me!” he whispered. “I '

vouldn’t be kept dot game oudt for ‘more as a hundret tol-
lars. Ach, vat a luck!”

bie

Ste

In the ae room the Athletes were chaffing and t

  

            
      
  
 
     
  
   
     
 
  
   
   
  
  
  
    
   
  
   
   
    
   
   
  
  
  
  
  
   
  
  
  
    
   
  
  
  
    
   
   
  

 

jollying each other. Reuben J. sat in one corner, his
precious bat between his knees, and looked and listened
‘and took his share of the ragging good-naturedly.
Frank went on to the stateroom. Norton was there.

Frank whispered, as ‘he dropped into a seat,

9

Rufus,’
“youll find it under the forward end of the car.”
The manager looked up blankly from a file of papers
1 a,

over him, and he smiled.

“All right, Chip,” he answered; “I’ll manage in some

way to take care of my end of it. You're sure what you've
got will pass for the real thing?”

“That part of it’s a cinch.”
Horton went backito his papers, and Metriwell poured
out a glass of water from a pitcher on the table, swallowed
it, and then, with pencil and paper, began figuring out his

batting order for the afternoon.
A yell from Mose announced dinner, and the car rocked
with the scramble of the Athletes to get to their places.
Horton and Merriwell went out and took their seats, and
the usual fun and gasconade were kept up all through the
meal.
nat This game with the Hassayampers had been scheduled
for the preceding, Saturday, but it had been postponed
because the rival team fourld it impossible to get their
players together.

“I understand, Chip,” said the Yale man, “that Sonora
Sam is to be the moynd artist for the locals.”

“I hope he can pitch better than he can wrestle,” was
Frank’s response.

“They say he’s got all kinds of speed, and a ball or two
that’s hard to meet.”

“I guess Beezum Boo will meet anything that comes
within a yard of the plate,” chuckled Frank.

“We'll see,” said Horton, his eyes twinkling. “I’m sorry
that Mexican is in the game,” he added, sobering. “He’s
eg tricky, and he hasn’t any reason to love you.”

_» . “What the mischief do I care about that, Rufus? He’ll
have to be square, or he’ll be sent to the benches. Of
_ course, though,” Merry added, “I’d rather have the good
é will than the bad, of even a dog. And, anyhow, maybe
Be Sonora Sam isn’t so black as he has been painted.”
-“T rather hoped that Wilmerding would be the twitler
for the Hassayampers’this afternoon. I used to know him,
and he’s a fine chap and a lot more formidable than the
Mexican.” i

“Then, by all means, Rufus,” said Merry, with a smile,
- “let?s"have Sam. We're trying out a new man, and we’re

whips.

 

-teliable Villum Kess. I can’t let Villum play on account’ of
his knee.” .

, “The Hassayampers will make us go some, I suppose
but you’re in the garne—and even Wilmerding can’t touch
you. I always feel mighty comfortable, Chip, when you’re
pitching for the Athletes.’
“Go on!” laughed Frank.
i) “Hike for the stateroom before the rest of the boys are
through, if you can,” said Horton, dropping his voice to
rane: tare cue a there, ‘ i Reoen Bi

o

 

oa] get you,” said ia acta
eee he got up and strolled out of the dining com-
Natonaadl was were! in von aisle when Merry’s

  

10 . NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY.

he was going over. Then a light of understanding flashed.

short our crack backstop; a classy outfielder, and the old-’

meal. Occasionally one hand would creep catitiously to
the breast’ of his coat and he would bend a rather fright-
ened glance on Merriwell. Both Horton and Me#riwell
noticed his mood, but thought his new responsibilities were
making him nervous.

He stumbled into the aisle and reached | down a and picked
up his bat, which he had had under his feet during the
meal,

“You won't need that, Reuben,” said the Yale man oblig-
ingly, “and I’ll take care of it for you while you're with
Chip.” .

Whittaker hesitated for a moment, then impulsively
yielded up his precious swat stick and shuffled away. No
sooner had he vanished than Horton disappeared through
an ‘opposite doorway.

“Here I be, Chip,” announced the new recruit, some-
what flurried.

“I thought you acted a bit nervous during dinner, Reu-
ben,” observed Frank kindly. “Calm down. There’s noth-
ing to worry about, you know.”

The other chap’s face was working queerly. Slowly
Frank poured a glass of water, not because he was thirsty,
but in order that he might, during that simple and natural
maneuver, observe Whittaker a little further.

“Yeou feelin’ fit tew pitch, Merriwell?” asked Whitta-
ker, in a voice that was almost a mumble.

“Never felt more like it,” Frank answered. “Why?”

“Nothin’,” replied the other, his eyes on the glass of
water. “Yeou got a book of rules?”

“Sure.”

“T’d like tew look at it.”

Frank got up, opened a suit case on the couch, and bent
to take out the book. His back, for the moment, was to-
ward Whittaker, and the latter, with a deftness hardly be-
lievable in one so awkward, pulled the folded paper from

his pocket, leaned forward, and emptied its contents into’
‘the glass. When Frank turned around with the book,

Whittaker had the paper crushed in his right palm, and
was carelessly looking out of the window.

“Here you are, old man,” said Frank. “When you're
ready to get into your togs, Clancy will find a uniform
for you.’ All I wanted to impress upon you was the neces-
sity of not getting excited.”

“Oh, I ain’t excited. I cal’late it would take more’n a
ball game tew put my narves on edge.”

Just here the door opened, and Horton looked in.

“Surprise for you, Chip,” he announced, in a low voice.
“Sonora Sam has called, and he wants a word with you.”

“What the deuce can he want with me eI

“Well, he’s waiting to tell you that.”

“Everything all right, Rufus?” Frank inbalieds a sig-
nificant glance falling on the long package in the man-
ager’s hand. , j

“Couldn’t be’ better,”
cance—all of which, naturally, was lost on the new re-
cruit, “Through with Reuben?”

“Yes, Have Clancy see that he gets a . uniform. ‘And , c :

I guess you might send Sonora Sam in here.”
“Keep your eye on him,’ murmured Horton.
your charmed swat stick,” he added to Whittaker, who
had got up and was crowding through the Cate | ‘alee it,
Reuben. It’s too big a responsibility for me” =|
“*Bliged tew: yeou,” aud Ronee and went off to
find Clancy. .
Horton also vanished from the door.

 

was the reply, swith equal sig

Maree

Presently the ae

     

 

 

  
 

   
      
     
 
    
 

   
   
  
   
  

- study.

ae Rane laren pg Eo ia

heavily built Mexican bulked large in the opening. He
wore a brown uniform, with red stockings, and had a
woolen sweater over his shoulders. As a consequence he
was perspiring. He was also ill at ease.

“Come in, Sonora Sam,” said Frank hospitably. “Glad
to see you. All ready for business, eh?”

The Mexican entered the little room and dropped into
the seat opposite Merriwell. The table was between them.
Frank watched his caller sharply, for to receive a call
from Sam was about the last'thing he had dreamed of.
For all he knew, the fellow might be treacherously dis-
posed.

“IT come to make friends,” gulped Sonora Sam. “Meb-
byso I been rough at wrestle match, eh? Forget it. I got
hot temper, but I try to keep it down. You shake hands?”

He offered his hand, and Frank met the advance cor-
dially.

“This is mighty white of you, Sam,” said Frank. “You’re
a good wrestler, no discount on that, and you got the
first fall.”

“You got de next two fall, ” returned the Mexican, mop-
ping his face with a red cotton handkerchief. “You better
dan me. But no hard feelings, eh?”

“Sure not,‘old man. Why should there be?”

And then the Mexican did something which must have
made fate haugh in her sleeve. It was a blunder of chance,
and might be considered as a fine example of what is
called poetic justice.

Sonora Sam was warm ahd thirsty. He saw the glass
of water, reached for it impulsively and drained the glass
at a gulp.

CHAPTER VII.
READY FOR THE FRAY.

“Dat is all w’at I come for, Merriwell,” said Sonora
Sam, after drawing the sleeve of his sweater across his|
lips. “Me, I want to be friends. De people dey say
things I not like. Mebbyso you hear dose things?”

“One can generally hear a lot of stuff that’s not worth
listening to, Sam,” replied Merriwell.

“Me, I am honest Mexicano. I pitch to-day against you.
It is high honor. It is give’ to me so mebbyso I get
even for lose de wrestle. Caramba! Merriwell, I am up
against hard job. I do my best, though. Dat is sport,
eh,”

“Surest thing you know, Sam,” agreed Merriwell good-
naturedly. “I’m sure I wish you all the luck in the
world.”

Sam poured himself another glass of water and drained
it off; then he got up.

“Gracias,” said he, “you are fine sportsman.
pitcher he win. Dat is all. Adios!” (

He left the stateroom. Horton took him in hand at the
door and ushered him personally to the forward plat-
form, The manager distrusted the fellow, and kept a
sharp eye on him while he was passing through the car.

Merriwell, to put it mildly, was “stumped.” Why the

De best

dickens was Sonora Sam so anxious to be friends with

him? The Mexican had taken a lot of trouble, it struck
Frank.

Horton,’ after seeing the caller safely off the car, re-
turned to the stateroom.

“what did he want?”

“Well,” inquired the Yale man,

NEW. “TIP “FOP WEEKLY.

He found Merry in a brown .

    

 

abet Ci meg Tet URIS oe i ae ap gg MOND er tt ed

   

Frank looked up with a smile.

“He came to shake hands with me, Rufus,” he answered.
“Said he wanted to be friends; incidentally, he referred to
the yarns that have been going around about his trying
to put me in line for the hospital during that wrestling
bout.”

“Referred to that, did he?”

“Yes. I can’t dope the fellow out, somehow.”

“Probably he wanted to see how you felt over those
rumors.”

“If there is anything that would make me think the
stories had a foundation in fact, it’s that fellow’s visit to
the car. Jupiter! He put himself out a lot™just to see
how I felt.”

“l’ve got my suspicions of that greaser,” said Horton.
knitting his brows. “The Mexicans are backing him with
money in poolrooms, and I’ve got it pretty straight that
your old enemy, Doc Bixler, is plunging on the result
of the game. Putting two.and two together, Chip, I don’t
like the looks of things. Betting is mighty poor business.
but sometimes it’s a straw in the wind.”

“What do you’ make out of it, Rufus?”

“Why, that Bixler and Sam are, in some manner, work-
ing -together.”

Frank laughed incredulously.

“How can they work together in this ball game?” he
asked. “Sam may be pretty good, but I don’t think he’s
good enough to make the game a cinch for the Hassay-
ampers. Bixler is plunging on the locals, eh?”

“Yes.”

“The fellow’s sharp enough not to do that unless he felt
pretty sure ae locals were going to win. Must be his judg-
ment is poor.”

“The police have ordered him out of town.
last attempt to make a winning in Phoenix.”

“Don’t wonder he’s been told to move on,”
Frank. “He ought to have been given his walking papers
several weeks ago, while he was swindling Tolliver Glory.”

“Y’m confident,” proceeded Horton, “that Bixler and the
Mexican have some inside facts—and I’d give a farm if
I knew what they were.”

“I wouldn’t throw away a perfectly good farm, Rufus,”
jested, Frank. “I'll bet something those ‘inside facts’ are
not important.”

The captain of the team began getting out of his street
clothes and into his uniform. Horton sat silently and
thoughtfully for some time, his eyes staring vacantly from
one of the windows. He started suddenly, and tm#rned
on. Frank.

“Have you any suspicions of Reuben J. eae
Chip?” he inquired.

“You can bet I have! I’ve suspicions that he’s going to
be a badly fooled batsman when the game’s over with.”

“Oh, that! I had something else in mind. Do you think
he joined the team to put something over on us? That
he’s working with Bixler and the Mexican——”

“Not on your life, Rufus!” declared Frank emphat-
ically. “You're not giving John Glory credit for much
loyalty to the team if you suspect anything like that.”

“I know Glory wouldn’t do a thing to injure our
chances,” said Horton hastily, “but he may have been im-

This is his

commented

posed upon.” J
“Tl take my chances on that,” said Frank, with confi-
dence.

“Well,” remarked the Yale man, shaking his head fore-

 

 

 
   

    
     
   
  
    
   
  
 
   
  
  
  
   
  
   
 
   
 
   
  
   
  
   
   
 
  
    
    
  
   
 
  
  
 
 
  

 

Tm NEW. TIP

bodingly, “something is up, and I’d like to know what it
is, Ill not stand for anything like that which happened
to Villum yesterday.
foot is going to come down good and hard,”

“So is mine,” “but there won't be
any need of a protest. The Hassayampers are mostly
drafted from the Phoenix athletic organization, and we
know those fellows are clean, and good sports.”

A rap fell on the door.

“Come in!” called Frank.

; Clancy entered, dragging Coddington by one arm. Cod-
_  dington, blushing furiously, held in one limp hand a bou-
-quet of red roses,

“Fellows,” cried Clancy, “look at the bee-y uti-ful flow-
ers! Aren’t they just too lovely? And who do you think
they belong to?”

“Must belong to Cod,”
seems to have them.’

“And who do you think sent them to our champion high
jumper and third sacker ?”

“Give it up.”

“Why, how strange!
berry——”

“You go to blazes, Red!” gurgled Coddington,

“That's mighty fine,” said Horton, “It shows, anyhow,
just how deeply rooted you are in the young lady’s af-
fections, Cod.” tee

“Listen, while I read,’ went on Clanvy, and got his
fingers on a card that dangled from the bouquet: “‘From
Ethel, hoping you will do something big in to-day’s game.’
She’s stingy with her flowers,” grumbled the red-headed
chap. “Why didn’t she send us all a bunch?”

Coddington’s father was a railway magnate.
car de luxe had been shoved down on the siding the pre-
vious day, with Mr. and Mrs. Coddington and their young
friend, Miss Ethel Mayberry, as passengers. The railway
man had come to Phoenix purposely to see his son and
-heir distinguish himself; and the little party had watched
from the grand stand while Coddington out jumped the
Reine Pima Indian and covered himself with glory. So thor-
- oughtly had Coddington, senior, enjoyed the games of the
preceding day that he had remained over for the ball game
—and his time was worth, probably, a thousand dollars a
day, at the very least.

. “Confound it!” growled Cod; “can’t I get a bouquet
without setting all this crowd plumb crazy? The gov-
ernor has gone daffy on this sport proposition, and he’s
bound I’ve got to star myself again. Of course,” the lad
finished gloomily, “I’ll not get a hit in the whole nine
innings, and I’ll bet I fumble and throw wild and all that
- sort of thing.” a
“Tf you do,” said Frank, “you’re going to hear from
me.” :

_. “And also,” added Clancy, “from some one in the grand

eer

If any crookedness shows itself, my

supplemented Frank,

answered Merry, grinning. “He

Don’t you know? MyYss May-

 

“Merry.

- “Did the best we o eenthe ” was the reply; ' but he’s pretty
fe jong for what we had in the slop chest, He’s thé human
camel, all right, and he totters around as though he was
eady to break in two. Come on, Nod,” Clancy added,
aking his companion by the atm; v
flowers to the rest of the fellows.”
Hanged if 1 will!” protested the third baseman. “T'll
nake you eat this bouquet if you push me too far.”

 
  
 

   

 
 

  

  

  

TOF

A private |

“Did you fs Reuben out with a pe Kian ?” asked

“we've got to show our

EEKLY,

  

W

Clancy promptly pushed him through the door and ‘into
the passage outside.

“Is that. far enough?” he asked.

There followed a sound of scuffling, and when itwas
over the bouquet was sadly demoralized. Out of the
wreck each of the team was presented with a red rose—
or with what was left of a red rose. These were care-
fully pinned in conspicuous places, and Miss Mayberry’s
offering to her favorite went to deck all the Athletes,

When Frank emerged from the stateroom, after the two
automobiles had arrived to take the squad to the_ ball
grounds, about the first person he encountered was Whit-
taker.

The new recruit certainly presented a laughable appear-
ance. He hung all over himself, so to speak.
he remarked, catching the
shadow of a smile on Frank’s face. ‘I ain’t no ornament

“Told yeou | was humly,”

tew the téam, Merriwell, but yeou jest fill the bases and
put me up, Ole Beezum Boo'll do the rest.”
Frankislapped him-on the shoulder.
“As 1 told you before, old chap,
[’m expecting great things of you

”

said ne, “handsome
is as handsome does.
this afternoon.”

“Keep yeour eye on the swat stick. It’s guaranteed tew
raise cain with them Hassayampers. But, say!”

Whittaker caught Merriwell by the arm and drew him
into one corner.

“Feelin? any more
he whispered.

“My condition seems to be worrying you, Reuben,” re-
turned Frank. “Why?”

“Nothin’, only yeou’re sure goin’ tew play the game of
yeour life. I cal’late nobody ever saw sich pitchin’ as
yeou'll do at this afternoon’s game.”

“What gives you that notion?”

“Tell yeou later,” and the queer chap gtipped his swat
stick more securely and chuckled.

They were ready for the fray, everysone of the youngs-
ters—except, possibly,
was reflected in tyeii talk as they bounded from the car
and climbed into the waiting automobiles. —

Hop Wah, as he had done on the preceding. day, rode
his little mule, Handsome Dan. Dan was supposed to
be a mascot. But he was unofficial.
thority Mose was the team’s luck bringer, and he was
jealous of the mule, but tried not to show it.

As the cars started away, the lads were cheered fe a
number of railroad men clustered about the station. A
locomotive, just in with a local freight, played a tune on

> fit that what yeou did a spell back?”

her siren, and Mose released his faith and defiance through |

his battered-old megaphone.
It was a fine day, and Merriwell’s Athletes were in the

best of spirits—ready for the fray in every sense of the

word,

CHAPTER VIII.
BEGINNING THE GAME.

There was almost as large a crowd at the ball grounds —
as there had been on/the pteceding afternoon, so the .
Phoenix Amateur Athletes had further cause to con-

gratulate themselves. Their organization was young, and

the games committee had sought these contests with Mer-
riwell’s squad in order to wake up public interest in ath-

letics and secure the town’s support for the “home boys.”

ey

Villum Kess—and their confidence —

By right and au-.

 

>

mee ost a

tele

ao

 

 
    
   
      
    
    
      
      
 

  

[a

 

 
  
  
  
 

   
    
  
 
 

This object was being splendidly attained, and the P. A. A.
had put themselves on the athletic map to stay, on Mon-
day afternoon, and the ball game was to be a clincher for
the advantage already won.

As they trotted out upon the field the rovers were given
a big ovation by the crowd. One line of the song, which
Mose had composed in honor of the Athletes and which
hid been whooped and howled many times during the
“carnival of sports,” drew itself out of the noisy demon-
stration and was repeated again and again: “Oh, dem
Merriwell kids, oh-oh!’ The line was changed slightly,
but as a fragment and quite apart from the rest of the
song it could be handled—so far as the sentiment was con-
cerned—in a dozen different ways.

The Hassayampers were spread out over the diamond
when the Athletes arrived, and Merriwell watched their
handling of the ball with considerable interest. All the
players seemed to be full of “pep,” and hungry for work.
They snapped the horsehide around in gingery fashion, and
there were no wild throws nor uncertain movements.

Two pitchers were working out. One, of course, was
easily recognized as Sonora Sam, and the other must have
been Wilmerding.

The Mexican seemed to be logy. He picked up the ball
sluggishly and only seemed to wake up when he began
to whirl his arm for a delivery. Then, for a moment, he
gave a bright example of all that a pitcher should be.

Wilmerding, on the other hand, was exceedingly wide
awake and active. He looked like a fellow who would
be slow to lose his head, and his pitching was steady and
effective.

Baltimore Joe, the hobo twirler, was to play center field;
but, as both Joe and Hop Wah, the second-string ball
tossers, were forced to get into the game, Merry had them
get their pitching arms limbered up to offset any accident
that might call one or the other to the mound.

The visitors went out on the diamond as soon as the
locals had been called in, and Merriwell, as he drove the
balls at Rodno, contrived to keep Whittaker somewhat un-
der his eye. The lanky, loose-jointed chap was in right
field. Horton knocked a ball in his direction, and the
contortions Reuben J. went through in an attempt to get
under the sphere would have made a horse laugh. He
crow-hopped, he got wound up in his long legs, and finally
he gave a froglike leap, missed the ball by a yard, and
struck ground in a huddle.

The spectators roared with mirth, ‘the Hassayampers
turned away to grin; and the Athletes wore expressions
of disgust. If Whittaker made such a botch of it in the
field, his stickwork would have to be brilliant to make up
for his other errors. This was merely a hint of how he
would conduct himself on the far right, but it was a hint

that filled his teammates with gloom.’ Horton, who had
been merely helping in the “warming up,” dropped his bat,
jammed his hands into his coat pockets, and started for

the grand stand.

He passed Frank, and gave him a tol of humorous dis-
may. “Zozo ought to have worked a spell on those long
legs of his, Chip,” he remarked.

“Pretty fierce, Rufus, and ‘that’s a fact,” Frank answered,
“but maybe it isn’t going to be so bad as you. think.”

“Tt couldn’t be,” and, with that, the manager climbed

over the grand-stand rail and dropped into a seat.

The crowd was becoming restive and eager for the game

to begin,» Yells of “Play ball!” were filling the air. The

NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY.

— ; a ee
cnet Bee Pete ee ae on ncthocapeapinines

visitors came in, there was a short conference between
Merriwell and Orn, captain of the Hassayampers, and the
umpire, cap in hand, came forward to make his announce-
ment:

“Ladies and gentlemen! The battery for the visiting
Merriwell’s Athletes, will be Merriwell and Rodno
inspired by the

team,
——’ He was interrupted by cheers,
mention of Frank’s name. After holding up his hand for
silence, he finished: “And the battery for the Hassayam-
pers will be Sonora Sam and McGurk,”
to the pitcher and tossed over a white bali. ‘Play bali!”
was the order.

McGurk was the churlish fellow who contested the high
hurdles with Hop Wah on the preceding day. He seemed
in a distinctively savage and hostile mood, and began rag-
ging Keenan, who was the first batter up for the Ath-
letes.

The batting order, as given to the official scorer, was as
follows:

He went down

ATHLETES. HASSAYAMPERS.

Keenan, 1. f. Orn, 1 b.
Clancy, I b. Backus, 2 b.
Whittaker, r. f. McGurk, c.

Rattleton, c. f.
Truman, ss.
Sproul, 3 b.
Corrigan, r. f.
Hawksbury, |. f.
Sonora Sam, p.

Rodno, c

Dill, ss.

Hop Wah, 2b.
Coddington, 3b.
Baltimore Joe, c. f.
Merriwell, p.

“Ganglelegs is our meat, Sam,” called McGurk, pound-
ing his mitt with his right fist. “He’s a mark, I can tell
by the cut of his jib. Right here, boy, right here,” and
he signaled.

The Mexican was slow. When he got his right arm to
twisting, however, he gingered up, and passed over a
pretty drop.

Keenan let it pass, and a strike was called.
trifling success the local fans began to jubilate.

“Strike him out, Sonora!” they begged. "

“His eye’s bad this afternoon!”

“Winning that race yesterday was too much for him!” |

“He can’t hit!”

“Take your time, old man!”
bench.

At this

called Merriwell from the

The next one was wide, but the third delivery was what
Keenan had been waiting for. He met the ball on the
nose, but Truman ran back and took it in.

“One down, one down!” whooped the crowd.

“Tough luck, Dart,” said Frank, as the head of the bat-
ting list came to the bench,

ay ought to have made that a safe hit, Chip,” gruuted
Keenan. “If Clan and I had got to the sacks, we'd have
a chance to see what there is in Reuben J.”

“Never mind—that can happen later.”

Clancy was facing Sonora Sam. 1

“I should worry, I should worry!” yelped McGurk. —

“Here’s the red-headed’ chum of the prize guy, Sam. Aim —
at the torch!” . yar ata

“Therell be a torchlight procession if he does,” peor
Clancy. Mey ete

The first ball was a wide one. ne SG

“He seems to be aiming at the bleachers, McGurk,”
chuckled Clancy. 3 eat

x

  

a

 

   

 
   

 

 

teeth, and waited.

14 : NEW? CEP -fOP  WRERLY.

The next one to come through was nothing extra, but
the red-headed first baseman went after it. Biff! It
skimmed the ground toward second, and Clancy made hot-
foot for the first station.

Sonora Sam should have picked up the ball. He had
ample time, but he seemed in a daze, and didn’t try to
get hold of the sphere until it was past him. But T. Jef-
ferson Backus, a lad of ability, went for the horsehide
like a hawk for a chicken. He got it like lightning and
hustled it over to first.

Clancy had been using his legs to good advantage, and
it seemed to Frank as though he was safe, but the umpire
declared him out.

“Rotten!” muttered Keenan.

“Ropper! Rop

Villum Kess, who was on the retired list.for that game,
began tuning up in clamorous protest, but Frank stopped
him.

“Careful of those remarks, Villum,” he scolded.

“Tt was a steal,” whispered Clancy, coming in with a load
of temper. “Orn, their first baseman, said himself the
decision was rank.”

“Don’t you care, Rod,” returned Merry. “Umpires are
not infallible. Now watch the enchanted swat stick.”

During the warming up, Whittaker had left his special
club in the hands of a cowboy from the T-Z Ranch, a
friend who could be depended on to guard the stick as
the apple of his eye. Frank watched, with a grin, while
Home-run Reuben took the bat in his hands and looked
it over carefully. Apparently satisfied, Whittaker rocked
up to the plate and stood there, with crooked knees and
the bat over his shoulder.

“Oh, what a freak!” cried the crowd, in a spasm of
mirth.

“Hay-foot, straw-foot, hay-foot——”

“Here’s the high diver, the misfit out in the right mead-
ows! He’s a mark.”

“Give him an easy one, Sam,
him’ kindly.”

The Mexican sent’one through. But it was too far out.
The big stick might have landed on it, but, if struck, the
extreme end of the bat would have landed on the ball.
Whittaker, withal his assumed ignorance, seemed to know
that there is seldom much force in the extreme end of the
bat, no matter how husky the swing.

“Blamed if he didn’t let it go by!” murmured Clancy, as
the umpire announced a ball.

“I thought he hit at everything, and let the swat stick do
the rest,” murmured Keenan.

“Don’t you believe it, fellows,” said Frank, watching
Whittaker ,with growing interest. “He has a good eye,
and he’s not trusting all to the bat.’

Neither did the next delivery look good to the chap at
the plate. Beezum Boo still hung on his shoulder as the
sphere whizzed past.

“Ball two!” yelled the umpire.

A third time Sonora Sam pulled himself together. Still
Whittaker made no move to swing.

“Strike!” announced the umpire.

/Whittaker’s eyes snapped, and he almost let go with a
protest. But he only: wriggled awkwardly, gritted his

 

” called McGurk. “Treat

“We're playing ten men,” grunted Clancy. “I could see

from here that that was’ a foot to the left of a mieie.
PP titel

He did not finish. Just then old Beezum Boo cracked
the ball, and it went far out over Rattleton’s head, almost
to the fence.

Then, while the yells of wonder and surprise and jubi-
lation filled the air, Whittaker galloped like a dray horse
for first. He should have made three bags, and Clancy
rushed for the coacher’s line, shouting. for Whittaker to
wake up and do some real running. He stumbled and fell
over the first bag, ‘gathered himself up, and flopped along
toward second.

Rattleton, spry as a cricket, had fielded the ball neatly
and plunked it into the hands of Backus, who was equally
spry. ,
“Out at second!”-announced the umpire.
letes groaned heavily.

And the Ath-

CHAPTER IX.
SONORA SAM IN TROUBLE.

Tt was beginning to look more and more, to Merriwell,
as though Whittaker was a wonderful hitter and the raw-
est of the raw at everything else. His base running was a
farce, and his sample of fielding, so. far, was likewise a
farce. The captain of the Athletes began to worry, al-
though contriving to keep his anxieties to himself.

He had never gone into the pitcher’s box feeling more
fit than he did that afternoon. . Always, when in the centér
of the diamond, a feeling of exultation and tingling hap-
piness filled him. The love for that particular post was
in the Merriwell blood, and it cropped out remarkably
strong in the “chip of the old block.”

Orn was first man up for the Hassayampers.
raced Clancy, on the preceding afternoon, and Clancy had
beaten him handily. Orn was a runner, though, and the
red-headed chap had humorously referred to him as the
“human grasshopper.” .

For the first time since the amateurs had taken the road,
Neil Rodno was catching Merriwell. Rod was a good
backstop, although Pennyworth was a shade the better.
Rod, however, could handle ‘all the tricks Frank had in
his repertoire.

Orn proved to be a good waiter, and batsmen of that
kind are not to be trifled with. In such a case it is unwise
to pitch a ball that is not intended to reach some part of
Merry mastered Orn from the start, and put
every one over. But they were all jump balls,

Two strikes were called. Then the first ball. The um-
pire’s eye was bad, for the third delivery was as fair a
strike as the two tosses that had preceded it. Frank, how-
ever, tightened. his lower jaw, took Rod’s signal, and let
Crive.

Orn whanged away with vigor,
into’ Rod’s big mitt.

the plate.

is A en ps j
“Dot’s der vay mit it!” howled Villum from the bench.

Orn retired, with a dismal grin, and T. Jefferson Backus
came confidently to the scratch. Backus was a nice little
chap. He had a free swing, too, which Frank worked
mostly on the corners.
plate might spell disaster.

Backus fouled vigorously, and the ball hit the grand-

stand netting. That was the nearest he got to a hit. A

strike was called with the second ball over. Backus went
after the third toss with blood in his eye, fouled again,
and Rod tore off his mask, ran like a deer, and made a
beautiful one-handed catch.

  
 

\

He had.

Spank! went the ball

To give Backus the ball over the —

 
  
   
   
  
    
   
  
  
   
 
   
 
  
  
   
    
    
   
  
  
    
  
  
  
   
    
  
   
   
  
   
   
  
  
  
 

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“Dot’s der vay mit it!” howled Villum again.
“Bully work, Rod!” exclaimed Merry.

The next aspirant for the bases was McGurk. He was a
swaggering youth, and began to boast of what he’d do
while on the way to the plate.

“Talk’s cheap, McGurk,” suggested Rodno.

“So’s this Merriwell bunch cheap!” grunted McGurk,
chuflishly, and with neither pith nor point.

“Ig that so!” came back Rod. “Well, this game will
come high, if you take it.”

MeGurk turned to flash a retort at Rod, and the ball
came through like a bullet from a gun. McGurk had not
been ready for it, and did not see it.

“Strike ore!” called the umpire.

“Stealing *°em on me, eh?” said McGurk, scowling.

“You're easy!” answered Rod, and laughed.

Frank had been warned that McGurk was handy in lay-
ing down a safe bunt. Being fast on his feet helped him
in this particular specialty. So Frank kept the ball low,
thus giving the ball no chance to bound if chopped to the
ground—that is, no chance for a high bound.

The result was that some of the balls went too low, and
there were three and two presently called on McGurk.
Then Frank let go with a speedy one, right over the plate.
McGurk met it with vim, and sent it out to Whittaker.

The.rangy chap in right field started like all possessed
for that ball, and his contortions were wonderful to be-
hold. . He stumbled and turned a somersault, but came up
sitting, and—still more wonderful to behold—got his hands
on the ball, fumbled it, but caught and held it to his breast
before it touched ground.

A perfect roar of laughter came from all sides. Even
the Hassayampers were amused, with the exception of
McGurk.

“Whittaker,” inquired Rodno, while picking out his bat,
“how did you ever do it?”

“Gosh-hanged if I know,’ answered Home-run, blitiking.
“T cal'late, though,” he finished, with a slow grin, “that ac-
cidents will happen,”

“Keep the bobbles going—they help.”

By that time it became very evident that there was some-

’

thing radically wrong with Sonora Sam. He stood in the

pitcher’s box and seemed to be dreaming.

“Send it through!” yelled McGurk angrily.
sleep, Sam?”

Sam’s-arm shot out, but the ball went at least six feet
wide of the plate. In no pleasant frame of mind, Mc-
Gurk chased it. Again the pitcher dozed, then awoke par-
tially, and rammed through a fast one—aimed, apparently,
at Rodno’s head. Rod dropped to his knees,

The umpire stepped around in front of Sonora Sam and
stared at him curiously. He stepped back, and the Mexi-
can tossed a ball that went over McGurk’s head by fully
two yards.

‘It was now apparent to everybody that McGurk had
some cause for his anger. The Mexican was wrong, some-
how. Before he could “wind up” again, he staggered,

“Going to

AN sank slowly to ‘his knees, and quietly laid himself down on
_ the ground.

The umpire called “Time |” and Merriwell and Orn

hastened to the center of the diamond.

“The Mexican is sick,” said the umpire,

“Sonora Sam did not seem ill, but, to all appearances, was
- fast-asleep. Orn tried’to rouse him, but Soa not, and
que and Merriwell carried him off the field ; and to the track

+

   

NEW TIP TOP “WEEKLY. 15

house. Merry went back to the field and secured the serv-
ices of a doctor. While the physician hurried to look after
the Mexican, Wilmerding was sent into the box, and the
game proceeded.

Wilmerding proved a masterful pitcher, and Rod failed
to connect with his curves, and struck out. Dill, the next
Athlete up, flied to Corrigan. Hop Wah, who followed
Dill, singled safely, and Coddington won first and advanced
Hop to third on a hot drive between short and second.
With two down and two on bases, it looked’ as though the
Athletes might score, and Sonora Sam and his troubles
were temporarily forgotten in the excitement.

But Baltimore Joe, the nifty tramp. southpaw, proved
that a good pitcher is sometimes very poor at stickwork,
and failed the runners by striking out handsomely,

As Merriwell started for the pitcher’s box he encoun-
tered Orn, just coming from the track house. Orn’s face
was clouded.

“What does the doctor say about Sam?” Merry inquired.

“Doped,” was the brief response, and accompanied by a
glance that Merriwell did not like.

“Doped?” Frank echoed.

“All the doctor had to do was to look at his eyes to
tell that.”

“Who could have drugged him?”

“We don’t know, but we’re going to find out,”
short response.

It was with an uncomfortable feeling that Merriwell
faced Rattleton. He was thinking of the Mexican’s trou-
bles, and of. the significant words and actions of Orn.
Rattleton got to the very first ball and pushed it into
the air for a safe two-bagger.

That. would not do, and Merry jerked himself together
and dismissed everything from his mind but the business
in hand,

Truman, the next man up for the Hassayampers, was
a hammer thrower and a good hitter. He had a habit of
drawing away from the plate, and hitting with a long
swing. Frank kept the ball away from him, and when
Truman caught.it, the result was a feeble pop-up which
Frank handled neatly.

Meantime Rattleton had gone to third. With one down

was the

and a man on third, careful work-was called : for, and

Merry proceeded to exercise his normal skill and judg-
ment. He struck out Sproul, and a high foul by Corrigan,
bagged by Coddington after a splendid run from third, re-
tired the side.

This was beginning to look like a real game, for both |
Merriwell and Wilmerding were in the best of form, and
their support, with a few exceptions, was excellent.

Merty went to bat in the first half of the third, and | |

Wilmerding, anxious for glory, did his best to strike him —
out. But Frank drove a hot one down between first and ©
second and easily got to the initial base. |

There were a few lone cheers for Frank’s sucdestat et
effort, but it fell a whole lot short of being unanimous, |

A chilly silence enveloped’ a big majority of the crowd,
Frank reasoned that the repott had spread that Sonora .
Sam had been drugged, and that suspicion was fastening

vaguely upon the Athletes.

In the grand stand, Horton could be seen warmly dis-

cussing some proposition or other with the Iccal fans

who. surrounded him. No doubt, Frank reasoned, he was”
resenting the vague hints of foul play leveled atthis team.
Keenan came to bat, As he took his club he resolilely)

  

       
  

  

ing players down with grim determination.
- yampers were resolved to prove their mettle by cleaning

- fourth, “fifth,
ninth passed, and still, marvelous to relate, no runs had
been ‘marked down.

16 NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY.

gripped it short, taking the signal to bunt and advance
Merry; and then McGurk had to open up.

“If you can’t get this game fair,’ he muttered insolently,
“you can put our side to sleep and walk away with it.”

“Another crack like that,” gritted Keenan, “and I'll
sure put you to sleep.”

“Spell able,” taunted the truculent backstop.

Keenan clamped his temper down, bunted and was
thrown out at first. Merry reached third by a terrific
slide, Orn attempting a double bed quickly getting the ball
across to Sproul.

Merriwell was safe, and Dill came down on that side of
the diamond to do the coaching. Clancy was nervous
when he came to bat, for the talk of unsportsmanlike con-
duct in connection with the Mexican had fretted him.

He lifted a short fly which Backus got under and held.
Frank, as soon as the ball was caught, rushed for home
like a streak of lightning. Backus, spry as ever and using
his head, made a beautiful throw to the plate.

Again. Merriwell dropped in the dust. His feet touched
the plate before McGurk put the ball on him. That was
clear to dozens of the onlookers; but the umpire—in
charity let it be supposed that whispers of foul ‘play had
likewise got on his nerves—declared Merriwell out.

Horton leaped the grand-stand rail and came running
down toward Frank,

“T shan’t stand for that!” he declared.

Frank dropped a restinising hand on his arm, and
smiled.

“You’d better, Rufus,” he said quietly. “The crowd and
the Hassayampers are trying to give us the worst of it on
account of that Mexican, and there’s' no use crowding
trouble too hard. The game’s young yet, you know.”

Horton hesitated, then spun around ‘on his heel, and
returned to his place.

CHAPTER X,
/
TEN INNINGS.

Certainly the drugging of Sonora Sam had made a tre-
mendous impression on everybody, players and _ specta-
tors alike. And, naturally, it was a most disagreeable
impression. In spite of the heat, there was a frosty feeling
to the air.

But the rumors merely served to straighten the oppos-
The Hassa-

up on the Athletes and putting their possibly unsports-
manlike schemes to shame. The Athletes, on their part,
were nerved to show what they could do in spite of the
ugly talk and certain decisions of the umpire which fla-

_ grantly favored the home team.

‘It was a trying’ position for Merriwell: It was. with

. difficulty that he restrained his own temper, and here it

was necessary for him to use a little soothing sirup on
the rest of his own team. Apparently, he was the only
cheerful player among the Athletes, and no one but him-

self knew how much his show of good nature cost him.

Three innings had passed without a score, and then the
sixth, and on up to and including the

Here, it seemed, was wonderful playing; and yet, with

_ @ few exceptions, the playing was not so wonderful as

  
 

the brilliant chances to score which were lost. by some
unexpected double, or triple, snapped off at the crisis of
the running.

Merriwell had never in his life pitched a better game.
It was a revelation, the way he jumped from right hand
to left, accommodating a left-handed batter and saving his
arms for the trying ordeal.

The curves, the drops, the Merriwell jump ball, the fast
ones, and the slow, ones all were delivered with tireless
energy and with a headwork and swift judgment in the
pinches that again and again brought a reluctant cheer
from the onlookers. In their excitement, the local fans
forgot occasionally the ugly rumors concerning Sonora
Sam, and made admiring and generous comments on Chip
Merriwell’s brilliant work.

Wilmerding was likewise “there with the goods.” More
hits were secured off him than off Merriwell, but his
support, in’ the main, was better. The weak spots in the
Athletes line-up were in the outfield, where Baltimore Joe
and Reuben J. Whittaker missed a good many chances
and caused their teammates again and again to shiver and
breathe only when necessary.

But every time Whittaker was. at bat he got better
than a single—if he had been able to use his feet. When
he started for first, it locked as though “he was going
full tilt at the pitcher, and when he started for second
a person would have thought he was bound for a ramble
in the outfield. Once he made two. bases on a fly that
should have taken him to third, or possibly have brought
in atun, But his hits never helped any other base runner.
That was the unlucky part, of it.

Coddington was playing remarkably well. He was al-
ways a tremendously successful third baseman, but for
this afternoon he was better on the sack than ever, and
his stickwork, never exceptional, was a bright and cheering
example for the rest of the team. Still, even he could
not get in a run, There were at least three spectators in
the grand stand who were delighted with Cod’s work,
and never failed to manifest their pride and pleasure, but
even they were gloomy on the score of general results.

There had never been a game on those grounds to com-
pare with this clash with Merriwell’s team. And the old
fans loudly declared that there would never be another—
that there just couldn’t be another.

So nine scoreless innings passed—scoreless because of
the sudden, rapid-fire plays in the close places, the de-
cisions of a biassed umpire and the cantankerousness of
fate that cheated the Athletes out of their due. It was a
theme of common remark, around grand stand and ©
bleachers, that the visiting nine were proving themselves
far and away better than the locals; but why, oh, why,
didn’t something happen in the way, of a run?

It was confidently predicted that, in the seventh or
eighth, the balloon would ascend. And yet, even that
favorite bogey of the diamond failed to materialize. Each
team continued steadily and determinedly on right up to—
the extra inning. It was then, and then only, that things
began to happen.

The work, in the first half of the tenth, devolved upon

Coddington, Baltimore Joe, Merriwell, Keenan, Clancy, >

Whittaker, and Rodno. Seven Athletes figured in that
highly diverting event, and it fell to Coddington to lead,
offe~

_ Wilmerding was bitch like a veteran. He was afraid

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NEW. TIP

of Cod, for what Cod had been doing that afternoon on
the diamond would have made any pitcher afraid of him.
With three balls and two strikes called on him, Cod
went at his last chance like a thunderbolt.

He lifted a fly into a gap in the outfield, and he might
have made second if he had been disposed to take chances.
The coacher was inclined to send him on, but a husky
voice from the grand stand was heard telling him to
“Hold it! Hold it, son!” And Cod held it.

Merriwell was figuring méntally on results, and his signal

» to Joe was to lace it out if*he could. But, of course, Joe
_ couldn’t, although Cod managed to win second while he

was trying. Joe fanned, and Merry kept up his figuring
as he selected his bat and went to the plate himself.

Merry was also a good waiter. He lingered perilously
long, it seemed, but he knew what he was doing. When
the right one came across he smashed out a clean grounder,
sending Cod to third and. getting to first himself with
ground to spare.

Coachers were on both sides of the diamond, wild with
anxiety and apt to give poor counsel. Keenan fanned,
after Coddington had made a few false starts for home.
During this spasm, Merry had dared the ball to second by
loping easily down on T. Jefferson Backus. But Wil-
merding was not to be coaxed with Cod on third.

Two were out and two on bases, and the excitement
was almost: morbid: Then Clancy came up.and was de-
liberately walked by . Wilmerding—walked him! when
Whittaker, who always hit, was the. next to face him.
People thought Wilmerding was crazy, but there were
others who thought he couldn’t help it, and that the um-
pire had called balls when he should have called strikes.

The bases were now full, with two down and Reuben
J., grinning widely at Wilmerding and sloppily holding
the big stick over his ‘shoulder.

“Here’s where ole Beezum Boo cracks out a winner, and
daon’t yeou fergit it,” he remarked casually.

The hearts of the local fans were wrenched with misery.
They wanted to josh the farmer, but they were too sad,
too apprehensive.

Wilmerding began with the wide ones, bit, by then,

the ought to have known that Whittaker was not to be
caught with anything that was not right and \pfoper.

To
force a run by walking Whittaker might be equivalent
to losing the game, to strike Whittaker out was impos-

sible, and Wilmerding must have been in a most unen-

viable state of mind.

_ He trted another wide one, and the umpire called it a
strike. Horton arose hastily in his place, red and angry,
but he sat down again when Frank waved a cheerful and
reassuring hand. »

Another one crossed the outside of the plate, but still

_ Whittaker did not seem to have even a notion.

 

_ sible during that game.

_“Strike—ah two!” yelled the umpire.

Could it be possible, the home team’s rooters. asked
themselves, that the! marvelous stick artist was going to
fan? Even Ty Cobb fans occasionally, Anything was
possible—indeed anything and everything had been pos-
But no!

- Along came the ball Whittaker wanted, and he soaked
it-—soaked it for the first home run of that ten-inning
game—and Bixler had promised him more home runs
naan that.

The local fans hid their faces as the ball sailed into

 

 

TOP

thing more to happen.

WEEKLY. 17

It is said that some of them wept. A few of the
watched the procession of run-
and the man with the score book
his pencil crediting the runs.

Whittaker ambled in, his big feet almost tripping him at
every stride. Wilmerding took off his cap and threw it
on the ground; McGurk hammered his fists against his
breast pad and glared out between the wires of his mask;
Orn sighed and moodily dug a heel into the sack at first.
He knew that a hard fight had been lost.

There was one wild man in the grand stand. He was
a fleshy gentleman, clad in gray, perspiring and, somewhat
demoralized as. to appearance. This was Coddington,
senior,

Beside him stood a young lady almost as wild. This was
Miss Ethel Mayberry, who had sent the red roses to Nod.

What mattered it, after that, if Neil Rodno struck out?
There were enough runs to win the game, providing the
Hassayampers did not rally in the last half of the tenth
and accomplish the seemingly impossible.

The locals went to bat with their hopes hovering around
zero. It was not a temper calculated to pull their team out
out of a deep hole.

“Wake up} fellows,”

space,
hardier spirits among them
ners cross the plate,
had to overwork

Orn begged. “Strange things have

happened during this game, and who knows where we'll

get off? A batting rally, boys! We can do it if we try
hard enough.”
“Yes,” grumbled McGurk, “we can do it if you take out

Merriwell, and Coddington, and Clancy, and that farmer
with the bigstick; we can do it, Orn, if we were up against
a lot of Baltimore Joes, and outfield W hittakers.”

Hawksbury led .off the batting order for the last half
of the tenth. He got a hit. and roosted on first. Hassa-
yampers’ hopes began to rise faintly. Then Wilmerding
struck out, while Orn went down to first on a grounder
that little Billy Dill hit with his foot and knocked out of
his hand. /

Merriwell was afraid of T. Jefferson Backus, and played
him carefully. As a result, T. Jefferson fouled out with
the assistance of Rodno. McGurk flied to—yes, to Balti-
more Joe., Oddly enough, the southpaw got under the ball
and held it. :

That was all. No one crossed the plate for the Haé’sa-
yampers. The ten-inning game, the most hotly contested
game ever played on those grounds, had been won by
the Athletes.

There was a good deal of cheerjng—in spots. In other
spots the frosty silence continued’to prevail. The specta-
tors kept their seats, Evidently they were expecting some-
Well, it came to pass.

Whittaker was putting away his loved Beezum Boo in
its case; bats were being collected and pushed into the
bag by others of the Athletes.
nalia were being picked up.

At that moment Orn, white-faced but resolute, came to-
ward the crowd of visitors.

“I want to enter a protest,” said he, his voice shaking
with emotion. “Sonora Sam was drugged.”

“We know nothing about that,” said Merriwell.

“Sobber!” rang out several voices behind Metsiqeell, but —

he turned sharply and demanded silence.

“The Mexican was drugged in your private car,” de-
clared Orn, “and we can prove it.”

Frank started and stared. Horton and most,of the
Athletés stood aghast,

Gloves and other parapher-—

‘

1

 

 
   
  
   
   
 
 
   
   
  
    
 
  
 
  
  
   
 
  
 
  

firmly.

 

 

CHAPTER XI.
SETTLING AN UGLY QUESTION.

“When you make an assertion like that, Orn,” snapped
the Yale man, recovering himself, “you’ve got to prove it.”

“That’s what I’m going to do,” answered Orn. “Sam!”
he called.

The Mexican, his face pale under its bronze, appeared
from the direction of the track house. He was weak, and
Sproul and Backus were supporting him.

“Doctor Carter,” and Orn turned to a gentleman Gf pro-
fessional appearance who had approached the group from
the grand: stand, “was the Mexican drugged?”

“There’s no doubt about it,’ was the emphatic response.

“Sam,” and Orn whirled on the pitcher, “did you visit
the private car of Merriwell’s Athletes just peor they
started for the ball grounds?”

Sonora Sam nodded weakly.

“You went there to make friends with Merriwell, and
to quiet the stories about you that started yesterday with
the wrestling bout?”

“Si,” replied Sam.

“While you were talking with Merriwell,
drink of water?”

ae

“How did it taste?” '

“Muy malo—bitter. Me, I say not’ing at de time. I
think mebbyso it was all right. Den, w’en de game start,
I feel queer. Por Dios, I not ey Bumby, I give up
and know no more till.a little wile ago.”

Orn faced Merriwell and Horton.

“What have you to say to that?” he asked sharply.

“I saw him take the drink of water,” answered Merri-

you took a

well, “but it was from a pitcher out of which both Hor-
ton and I had been drinking. You took a second glass of

water, Sam, as I remember,” went on Merry, addressing
the Mexican. “Notice anything wrong with that?”

“No, only de first glass.” .

“There’s a mistake about this,” declared Merriwell, half
of the opinion that Sam was lying just to get the Ath-
letes into trouble. “Only our fellows were in the car—
and none of them could have dohe this.”

“Sonora Sam isn’t telling the truth,” put in Horton hotly.
“Why did he come to our car? He came for a purpose—
and that purpose was not to settle any stories about him-
self. You Hassayampers,” he finished significantly, “can
draw your own conclusions.”

_ “Wait a couple of shakes, yeou Geant It was Reuben
J. Whittaker who spoke, and his face was long and dreary
and somewhat pale. “I got a few remarks tew put in,
-abaont here, I cal’late.”

All eyes were immediately _ turned upon Home-run

iN Reuben.

| “What have you got 46 say?” demanded Horton, sus-
_picion smoldering in his eyes.

“The Mexican sartinly got a Sab? went on Whittaker
“I put it intew the glass myself, by kelter, the time
_ Merriwell called me intew the stateroom,’and yeou”—he
peered at Horton—“took keer of my swat stick.”

"You admit it?” cried the manager wrathfully,

“Sure I admit it. I made a mistake. .
intended fer Mertiwell”

At that, some of the Athletes bisthed as 5 Bisch de

NEW TIP LOR: WEEBRLY.

tell the facts?”

_ that ‘the break-up would begin with to- ~day's game.

That ayen was f

anted to Saini d poe Ree ane and shaihiatel got the dope.

 

him. He had tried, they reasoned, to put Chip down and
out, so he could not pitch against the Hassayampers.

“Treachery, eh?” demanded Horton, his eyes glittering.

“Not on yeour life. ‘The feller that put the singles, two,
and three-baggers, and the home. runs into. the swat stick
told me Merriwell’s powers was failin’, and that he'd: lose
this game if somethin’ wasn’t done to fix up his pitchin’
arm.
intew water fer Merriwell tew drink, an hour or so before
the. game. He cal’lated, the feller did, that Merriwell
would pitch as he never had pitched before, by kelter.
All durin’ dinner I was worked up thinkin’ habw I was
tew git that powder into Merriwell’s drink without him
knaowin’ it. When I went tew the stateroom I had my
chance. I asked fer a book of rules, and while Merriwell
was gittin’ it aout of his grip, I did the trick.”

This lengthy statement fell on incredulous ears.

“Likely yarn, Whittaker,” said Horton. “It is our pride

that we are clean sportsmen, and here you've started

a story against us which is ugly, to say the least., Who

doctored that bat of yours?”
“Feller who called himself Bixler,” answered Whittaker.
“And it’s the truth I’m a-tellin’ yeou.”

The oné word, “Bixler,” offered evidence in Whittaker’s
favor. It might be possible, after all,
stitious chap had been deceived. Before inquiries could be
pressed further, a policeman, leading a man by the arm,
pushed into the throng.

“Maybe I can butt in here,” said the officer,
thing worth listening to. My name’s Lacey.
called on this ‘con’
town within twenty-four hours.
ten o’clock to-night. He has’ been betting heavily on the
Hassayampers to win. Maybe he can throw a little
on the subject. Can you?’

“with some-
Last night, I

Lacey bent a hard, stern glance on the man whom he
was holding by the arm. The fellow was none other
than Bixler,

He give me the powder and told me tew put it.

that the super- -

man and gave hit orderg to leave.
His’ time isn’t up’ until

light

ee ee

Si

af
“Tt’s all hot air,” Greats Bixler indignantly, Hi
“Guess again,” said Lacey. “You want to leave town,
don’t you, when the twenty-four hours are up? Well, |
3ixler, you tell the truth or you don’t leave.” a
This threat had an immediate effect upon the spy ;
doctor. ae
“Oh, well,” he answered urbanely, “if you put it that as
way, officer, I don’t mind telling what I know. That
yap,” and here he indicated Whittaker, “came to me with
a bat that he wanted fixed up for hits. Of course, I fixed yy
it—that’s my business. Then—~” Right here, Bixler a
probably realized that what he was about to say might get 4

him into deep waters.

“That’s what I said,” returned Lacey.

“IT told the jay that I had read Merriwell’s opokbone:

and that I saw in the stars signs of failing power—and -

T told him I had a powder which, if he'd mix in a glass

   

of water unknown to Merriwell and fool him into drinking
‘it, would stay the ravages of growing weakness and make
him more powerful and skillful than ever.
‘the yarn, and then got the powder ready for Merriy

He swallowed

to swallow—only the scheme went WEORE, = Sondre Sam
Hard luck!” 5) i Ca

“I’m free to go,” he asked, “if I)» ‘

     
 
      

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'

d “Why did Sonora Sam come to our car, Bixler?” de-
manded Horton. “You must know about: that.”

x, “I told him to go,” was the reply. “I said that if he’d

0, make up and be on friendly terms with Merriwell, it would

k _ help avert suspicion, The fool went—and then drank the

e - dope himself. But what can you expect of a greaser?”

? All this was very illuminating. Especially so for Reuben

it | J. Whittaker,

et “Yeou darned two-faced skunk!’ cried Whittaker, and

11 made a jump for the mystic.

oh
| ‘

“There, there now!” said Lacey, getting in between the

two. “Of course,” the officer added, “something like that’s
coming to him—but a little something is also coming to
iy you, Whittaker, for being such a darn fool.”

ll ‘| Whittaker drew back, abashed.
“What have you to say to all this, Orn?” asked Merry,
q facing the other captain.
le | .~ “I’m sorry I listened to the Mexican’s evidence against
d. 4 you,” was Orn’s generous response. “It’s a case of the
oo biter getting bit. Sam started out to do a little crooked
work and got more than he bargained for. I ask your
pardon. It was a good game, and you fellows won on your
|} merits.”
) “And no matter what happened to Sonora Sam,” said

 

4 j _ Frank, “Wilmerding is no end better in the box than the
: Mexican. We would have been very foolish to try to get
| : 2
; { Sam out of the game for the purpose of putting Wil-
oa ao merding in.”
. _ “Blamed if I’d thought of that,” agreed Orn, “but it’s
I the truth.”
BS “So in this way a very ugly question was pleasantly
1 settled, and the Hassayampers. started at once to spread the
is | real. facts’in the case through the town.
toes
Rees. |? ; CHAPTER XII.
: | WHITTAKER IS “CURED.”

|, Back at the car that afternoon, while the pleasant odor

of supper preparations were filling the air, Merriwell and
Horton had a little talk with Reuben J. Whittaker.
, - “T sartinly made a dad-binged ijut out of myself,” mut-
a tered Reuben J., in a spasm of self-reproach.
Barer’ -. “You realize that Bixler is a grafter and a faker, don’t
-) you, Reuben?” queried Horton.

; 2, “He’s a grafter, but he sure knaows haow to put charms
é *| intew: a swat stick.”
peo “Nonsense!” ‘

i ee: ; _ Whittaker was on the aggressive at once.
/ . “Daon’t say nongense tew me,” he answered. “Didn't
_ | I prove what’ that bat could do, hey? Didn’t I make a
ri "hit ever’ time I was up?”

| “It wasn’t the bat that did it, though, Reuben,” put in
_ Frank. “You watched the ball like a hawk. You could
. have done as well with any other bat. You are a phe-
Ma ‘nomena! hitter—and a regular joke in the outfield.”

  
   
   

 

  
 
 

“Nao, I ain’t no hitter. Ole Beezum Boo does the trick,
I tell yeou. It’s the hocus-pocus worked over the swat
- stick that does the business. .

. “You're too superstitious to make a good ball player,

Whittaker,” said Horton, “and you can see, by what hap-
pened this afternoon, just how close your folly came to
getting the Athletes into trouble.”

“; ea knaow that, but I still deny I could have mage any

     
 
   
   

 

 

 

NEW ‘TIP TOP WEEKLY. 19

hits withaout Beezum Boo. Them charms of Zozo’s, fixed
up and repaired by Bixler, is what made the stick a
hitter.”

“If you stay on this team you’ve got to change your
mind.”

“T’d hate all-fired bad tew leave this bunch of sports,”
mourned Whittaker, “but I cal’late I knaow more’n yeou
fellers do abaout Beezum Boo.”

“You don’t, though.”

“Hey?”

“You haven’t been using the enchanted swat stick at all
this afternoon.”

Whittaker’s eyes opened wide.

“Quit yeour funnin’,”’ he answered.» “Nobody could
fool me abaout that.” He pulled the big club out of its
case and examined it thoroughly. “It’s the same, even
tew that swas-swas-what-d’yeou-call-it that Bixler chalked
on the end.”

Frank reached over with a laugh and pulled another
big bat; from under. the stateroom couch.

“Which is the real Beezum Boo, Reuben ?” he asked,
presenting the second swat stick.

“Whittaker stared from one bat to the other as though
he could scarcely believe his eyes. Taking the second bat
out of Frank’s hands he looked it over wonderingly.

“Waal, I snum!” he muttered. “Where’d that swat stick
come from?”

“It’s the original, enchanted swat stick, Reuben,” an-
swered Merry, smiling, “and it has been under that couch
all the afternoon. What you’ve been using is a counter-
feit club, that no faker ever mooned over.”

“H-haow did the counterfeit club come tew be in the
case?” faltered Whittaker.

“That was a little plot which Horton and I hatched for
your especial benefit,” went on Frank. “Your foolish no-
tions about Zozo and Bixler are mighty little credit to
your intelligence, Whittaker. Rufus and I planned to cure
you. I found the mate to your big stick at a sporting-
goods shop in town. It took me about half an hour to
get it soiled and marred and to put a swastica of my own
on the end, then I brought it here and hid it under the
car, When I called you, after dinner, it was only to get
you away so Horton would have a chance to put the coun-
terfeit bat in the case without your knowledge. You re-
member, don’t you, that Horton took care of the bat when
you came in here to talk with me?”

Whittaker opened his mouth to answer, but he was so
far gone with amazement that no words came.

“Well,” continued Frank, “that’s when the change was
made. Now, if there was any merit in what Zozo and
Bixler did to the bat, how was it that you made such a
good batting record this afternoon? _ Your hitting isn’t in
the bat, Reuben, but in your good eye and strength of
those long arms. Can’t you ‘realize that?”

“Gosh all Friday!” gasped Whittaker. “Yeou could
a’most knock me daown with a feather. And I paid
Bixler fifty dollars tew put the charms intew that- bat!
Oh, I’m weak-minded, and nao mistake. I cal’late yeou
don’t want me on the team any more, eh?”

“Not if you still believe in spook . doctors and fortune
tellers,” said Horton.

“Waal, I daon’t. I give in.
me tew stay cured. But, say I ain’t nao ball player.” .

“That’s a fact,” laughed Frank, “but maybe you’ll learn
to be as good a fielder as you are a hitter, now that you've

‘ %
ae

Yeou fellers have cured Y

AES

      
     
  
     

 
 
 

 

Rails aterm Ith Phys RNS m=

  

20

got over your superstitious notions. If you're willing to
try, Reuben, we’re to try you”

“Shake!” said Reuben, putting out his hand. “I wouldn’t
have knowed | was sich a fool if I hadn’t faound it aout,
would I?”

willing

THE END.

“Frank Merriwell, Junior’s, Ordeal; The Hand of
Fate,” the story that will be found in the next issue of
this weekly, No. 56, out August 23d, tells of a losing fight
that won. It is a powerful story, the kind that makes us
able’ to face life’s battles more bravely, to be “on the
level” in all ways, and to pull up a winner, though death
be the reward, Don’t miss this: story.

DO ROCKS GROW?

Under some circumstances, as those to be found in caves
>

where water trickles over limestone, the size of a stone

may be increased, but this is entirely due to outside action,
and cannot in any way be considered as growth. To
imagine that a stone, if left to itself, will increase in size is
just as sensible as to imagine that a gold dollar, if de-
posited in a drawer, will grow into an eagle, or ten dollars.

THE SUNSET EXPRESS.

By FRANCIS MARLOWE.

SYNOPSIS OF PRECEDING CHAPTERS.

Jim Harvey, a young chap from New York State, being
left alone in the world, goes to Montreal with the intention
‘of getting a job on the Sunset Railroad, the general man-

ager of which, Mr. Fletcher, was an ‘old friend of his
father,

Mr. Fletcher, however, thinking the young man not
strong enough to stand the hardships of railroad life, gets
him a position in a store, but this does not suit Jim, and
after a few weeks he succeeds in getting a job as a wiper
at the roundhouse of the Sunset Company.

He makes good, and is presently made fireman of a
passenger train. While on this run he saves the express
car from robbers, and his daring act leads to the capture
of the thieves.

Partly as a reward for this act, and partly because there
is a strike on the line and men are scarce, he is again
promoted to fireman of the Sunset Express, the most
important train on the road.

While on this job the engine is disabled by strikers, but
Jim cleverly plans to get another engine, in the hope that
' they will be able to put the express through on time, and
thereby save the company’s mail and express contracts.

Harvey is successful in his efforts, and, as a reward he
is transferred to the shops, and later becomes an engineer.
It is autumn, and there are forest fires all along the right
of way of the railroad. The telegraph operator at Wood-
lawn station sends a message to Kendal, the station near-

est the fringe of the fire-swept séction, that a hundred

persons at Woodlawn are facing death, and he asks for

hel

With an engine coupled to four freight cars, Harvey
_ rushes to the stricken town. The terror-stricken inhabit-
ants are bundled into the cars like so many cattle, and,
with the throttle open, the brave young engineer brings
_ them safely through the flames.

During the winter, on one of his days off, a blidvar d
arises, and Harvey is asked to run the flanger of the
snowplow, sent ahead of the express; it is” a difficult

and. dangerous job, but Jim successfully carries it through

until almost at the end of te run an old, torgpiten switch
 derails the car.
Running back to halt the express, Jim passes three men

   

Ue I

 

 

NEW: fIP-. TOP, WEEKLY:

a moment later he comes to
the express at a standstill, and learns that it has been held

who fail to answer his’ hail;

up by robbers, and the engineer seriously wounded.

30arding the engine, he runs the train to the scene of
the plow wreck, where he finds the robbers have seized
the plow locomotive and escaped.

In this crisis he conceives a scheme which is successful
in capturing the robbers.

Called upon by the road to put a stop to the freight
thieves that infest it, Jim organizes a freight patrol, and
sets to work to run down the miscreants.

CHAPTER XXII.
THE BULLION MYSTERY,

The young chief of the Sunset Freight Patrol felt the
responsibilities of his post grow heavy on his shoulders.

A very brief experience of the work of the Freight
Patrol convinced Jim that it would be foolish to consider
that the patrol had achieved any satisfactory measure of
success so long as Black Michaels remained outside prison
bars. The patrol had curbed the lawlessness of other
gangs of thieves; it had arrested their leaders and broken
their ranks so that they no longer dared to make organized
raids on the freight yards.

Thefts had by no means ceased, but they had become less
frequent, and it was seldom indeed that closed cars were
“ripped” and looted’ except by Black Michael’s gang.

To arrest Black Michaels and break up his gang was

now the absorbing aim 6f Jim Harvey’s existence, but the
crafty leader of the freight thieves seemed to anticipate
all traps and ambushes. After his son had been killed,
Black Michaels had disappeared for a time, and for many
nights there was no trace of his hand in the raids on the
freight tracks. At last, however, he returned to the
scene of his former exploits, the South Side y
celebrated his reappearance by leading a horde of desper-
ate ruffians who, though they left many wounded pris-

oners behind them, carried off a quantity of valuable goods -

from the cars, and damaged much that they could not take
away.

Jim Harvey was tireless in planning schemes for Mi-

chaels’ capture, but the man was still at large; he harassed
the patrol men almost nightly, and day by day Jim Har-

vey’s face grew more gloomy as he received reports of

goods damaged or stolen from the freight cars.

At the end of a busy week Harvey was in his office at

headquarters reading reports from the patrol posts.

One letter referred to a matter of urgent importance, —

for it told Jim that a consignment of bullion, value twenty
thousand dollars, was being dispatched that’ night from
Montreal to Toronto, and asked him to see that one of
the patrolmen traveled with the treasure to guard it.
Jim made a mental note of this as a matter demanding _

instant attention, though he was rather puzzled as to |

how he was going to spare a man from patrol duty.

The next instant he had almost forgotten it in the ab- —
sorbing interest of the concluding paragraph of the Have i

“T have just heard from the police that they have dis-
covered where Black Michaels is living now. They have
traced him to a tenement housé near the Soush Side yards,
and hope to arrest him to-night.” ys :

This was tietig news for Jim Harvey, ‘iid avickly:
put him on good terms with himself again.

. - oe — ye e fated bas
ctr sae NN een iit timen Te Nae SOI Bo YH DON oh

ards, aud >

ve

He was still 4 in the first flush of elation at the very com."

Seer:

COO eet ke sO

 

    
   

tr

aa aoge

  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

    
 
    
 

 
 

 

 
   
       
    
   
 
 

 
     
    
      
     
   
       
      
 
    
 
     
     
 
   

     

   
  
   
   

  
   

NEW. TIP,

forting news when the door of his office opened, and Sul-
livan, his lieutenant, entered the
y “Oh, hello, said Jim
here that needs immediate attention.

room,

matter
twenty thou-
and the
general manager wants a man from the patrol to guard it.
Whom shall we send?’

Sullivan,” hastily, “there’s a
There’s
Toronto to-night,

sand dollars in gold going to

“By the piper, that’s a question!’ remarked Sullivan,
fingering his beard thoughtfully. “We've two men in hos-

- pital, and that makes us mighty short-handed. Of course,
if the general manager wants a man, he must have one,
but how we're to spate him is more than I know, with

_ Black Michaels liable to spring a surprise on us at any

one of the patrol posts.”

te “The police will have Black Michaels to-night,”

“T wouldn’t reckon on that.”

“Pll go to Toronto myself, then,” said Jim.

a starts in an hour, so I'll have to look sharp.

me if the police get Michaels.” .

“You'd better let me telegraph you if they don’t catch

4 “, him,” said Sullivan, with a twinkle in his eye. “I'd like to
have some message to send you.”

“cr

The train
Telegraph

1 “Oh, get out, you croaker!” cried Jim.
| When Sullivan left him, Jim Harvey made hasty prepara-

he tions for his journey to Toronto. He had very little time
- to spare, for the bullion was to be dispatched by the Sun-
set night express, a train that left Montreal every night at
half past seven.
: He found that the gold was in the station agent’s office,
Bi where a bank clerk and a porter were waiting to hand it
‘|. over to his charge.
It was packed in two stout, wooden boxes, each of which
1% weighed about half a hundredweight, the whole making

 

  
  
     
  
 
  
  

than a short distance.
corded and sealed.
_ When he had made sure that the bank’s seals were in-
tact, Jim, Harvey signed the receipt that was presented
to him, and had the boxes loaded on a truck, and con-
veyed to the baggage car of the express.
He found the baggage-master anxiously awaiting the ar-
-tival of the bullion, and pleased that the responsibility of
safeguarding it had been taken off his shoulders
- Owing to the late arrival of some goods that were con-
; sp mained to Toronto by the express, a slight delay was now
necessary before the gold could be put aboard the train,
1 While the goods were being packed away, Jim Harvey
sat on the truck that bore the gold, and watched opera-
tions, One article attracted his particular attention, and
set him wondering how it happened that it was being dis-
| patched by an express baggage car instead of by an ordi-
ge tee freight train,
Both in bulk and weight it differed materially fromthe
style of articles usually sent by express.

Each of the boxes was securely

Aor

"i
¥

   
  
   
  
 
 
 
 
 
 

to the baggage-master.

“That’s a curious-looking bit of goods,” he said.
“Yes,” was the reply. “It’s a bit out of our line, too.”
“What do you make of it?” asked Jim.

The article they were disenssing w was just rr taste

 

hile he answered Jim’s question.
t's consigned to a party in Toronto,” he remarked.

1e. crank, I’ Il bet. It’s supposed to be a part of an

a load that none but a very strong man could carry more

Tt interested him sufficiently to cause him to comment on

  

TOP WEEKLY, ai

airship—one of the aéroplanes they talk about; I expect
that’s the motor in that box in the middle of it.”

It was. satisfactorily disposed of at last, and then Jim’s
were lifted from the truck, and car-
ried into the baggage car.

two boxes of treasure

Montreal

It was almost two hours after the train left
le feeling in

when Jim was reminded, by ah uncomfortal
the pit of his stomach, that in hurrying to catch the ex-
press he had forgotten to take his usual evening mea

He referred regretfully to this while he was talking to
his companion, who quickly put him in the way of satisfy-
ing his appetite by reminding him that there was a supper
car on the express.

Jim hesitated a moment as he thought of the gold that
had been ‘put in his charge; then, catching the baggage-
master’s eye, he laughed lightly. “There’s no fear of any
one breaking in on you, while I’m away?” he asked,

The man pointed significantly to a Winchester rifle that
lay in a rack above his head, and then unlocked the end
door of the car. Jim quickly passed from the baggage
car to the smoker, and thence on to the supper car, where
he was soon busy ministering to a remarkably fine appe-
tite,

He wound up his meal with a cup of coffee, and was
sipping this with great enjoyment when he was startled
by the grinding sound of hurriedly applied brakes, and
almost flung from his seat by the sudden stoppage of the
train.

He sprang to his feet, and listened tensely for some
sound that might explain why the irain had stopped, A
sudden thought of the gold in the baggage car flashed
across his brain, and he felt instinctively that it was in
some ‘way connected with the startling stoppage of the
express. The next instant he was running swiftly to the
head of the train.

When he emerged from the end of the smoking car, he
was quickly convinced that his apprehension that the bul-
lion was in danger. was only too well founded. The door
of the baggage car would not yield to the pressure he
applied.’

He hammered at it frantically with the butt of his re-
volver, but. there was no reply from the other side. He
shouted to the baggage-master, and was conscious that
beyond the door there was neither voice‘ nor movement,
only a grim, foreboding silence.

Unshaped thoughts of disaster were whirling through his
head as’ he hurriedly jumped from the train. As he ran
he overtook two men; these pyoved to be the conductor and
a black porter. .

The three men arrived together in front of the baggage
car, and found the engineer staring in amazement at
its wide-open door. Frantically anxious about the gold

‘that had been intrusted to his care, Jim Harvey sprang

into the car.

He found it deserted ; the baggage-master had disap-

‘peared, He looked toward the corner where the gold had

been placed; the two boxes of bullion were no longer
there!

CHAPTER XXIII.

      

AN AMAZING DISCOVERY.

They found jhe baggage-master lying in a Huddled eae .
in a dark corner of the car, but this served to increase
rather than explain the mystery of the vanished bullion, ©

4

 
 

. 3 ne Ee _
PTET TPM ig ama MORN HOF PIN oA Na eae

 

 

 

JS

22

for he was unconscious, and, therefore, unable to give any
account of what had happened. By the light of a lantern
Jim Harvey discovered that the unfortunate man was ter-
tibly wounded on the head.

“See if there is a doctor among the passengers,” he
exclaimed hurriedly.

The conductor departed on this errand, and presently
returned with a young surgeon whom he had the luck
to find in the smoking car.

After a brief examination, the doctor informed Jim
that the injuries to the baggage-master’s head were so
severe that it was doubtful if the man would live until
the train reached Toronto.

“Does any one know how this happened?” he added,
looking curiously at the little group of anxious trainmen.

“It is impossible to say just yet,’ said Jim. “All we
know is that a signal to stop the train was sent from the
baggage car, and that when we investigated we found
the door of the car open and thé baggage-master lying
here as you see him. It looks as if he fell heavily against
something after he had given the signal for brakes.”

“There’s something more than that behind it,” replied
the doctor briskly. “My belief is that the man was struck
on the head before he fell. There’s a pretty bad wound
here that wasn’t caused by a fall.”

The inexplicable disappearance of the bullion recurred
to Jim, and he stepped swiftly toward the young doctor,
and drew him aside.

“Are you sure of what you say?” he asked. “At first
I thought something of the kind had happened, but how
could it have been possible? The man was alone in the
baggage car; I was out of the train almost before it
stopped, and have had a search made in every direction
without finding a sign of any one who might have attacked
him.”

In spite of Jim’s earnest words the doctor adhered firmly
to his opinion that the aggage-master had been struck
down. The mystery grew very black.

Toronto was reached at last. The still unconscious bag-
gage-master, accompanied by the doctor, was removed in
an ambulance to the nearest hospital.

Jim Harvey, stepping from the baggage car, found a
bank clerk waiting to relieve him of the twenty thousand
dollars that had been intrusted to his charge.

As a last, forlorn hope, before explaining the situation
to the bank’s representative, he stood grimly by the car
until everything it contained had been removed from it.
Then he turned to the bank clerk.

At that moment the conductor of the express handed a
telegram to Jim, and he turned from the clerk to read it.

It was from Sullivan, and ran:

“Black Michaels not arrested, Police say he has cleared
out of town. SULLIVAN.”

Jim crumpled the telegram impatiently in his hand, and
moved toward the station agent’s.office to send a mes-
sage to the general manager announcing the loss of the
gold. He was busy writing a telegram when the office
telephone tinkled. ss

“Here’s a telephone call for you, Mr. Harvey,” called out
the station agent from his desk.

‘Jim stepped quickly to the instrument, and found that

the young doctor who had attended to the injured man
was waiting to speak to him.

4

List ag RB am ais See 6 at ta tet Ie Dalai EME RATE Te, ee

     
  
  
   
  
   
     
  
   
  
   
  
 
 
 
    
   
 
  
 
 
    
    
    
  
 

NEW. -TIP TOP. WEEKLY

“The man has recovered consciousness and may pull

,

through now,” were the doctor’s first words. They thrilled
Jim with the hope that now he could obtain a clew to the
missing gold.

“Can he speak?
riedly.

“He can scarcely speak,” replied the doctor. “I’ve made
out that he suddenly found a man in the baggage car, and
was struck on the head as he was signaling for the brakes.
That’s all I’ve been able to get from him, and it would
be dangerous to question him further now.”

Jim dropped the telephone receiver almost before the
doctor had concluded. A possible solution of the mystery
had suddenly flashed across his mind, and he was anxious
to put it to the test while there was yet time.

He astonished the station agent by turning sharply, with
the request :

“Come quickly with me and pick up some good men as
we go along. I want them to tackle a dangerous busi-
ness.”

Luckily for. Jim’s purpose, the station agent, a keen,
alert official, did his bidding without question, and a min-
ute later when Jim got to the station yard there were
four sturdy men behind him watching his movements with
obvious wonder. .

A quick glance round the yard showed Jim what he was
in search Of. .On a truck that was leaving the yard just
at that moment was the supposed section of the aeroplane
that he had seen put aboard the express at Montreal.

Somewhat resembling a skeleton bow of a. boat in out-
line, it was made of plain iron and was inclosed in an
oblong framework of wood about seven feet in length.

Inside the metal frame, secured to it firmly at the base
and fastened to its bow-shaped apex by a short chain, was
a wooden box standing almost as high as the outside
wooden frame and about three feet wide by two feét deep.

Jim Harvey had seen two men take charge of this
strange-looking affair when it was removed from the bag-
gage car, and now he saw these same two men sitting on
the driving seat of the truck.

He turned to the men behind him, and pointed to those
on the truck.

“I want you to look after those men when I call on
them to stop,” he said quietly. .

An instant afterward he darted ahead of the truck, and
confronted the driver with a threatening revolver.

“Get down!”’ he cried sharply. “I want to have a
look at that funny business you have there.”

Has he said anything?” he asked hur-

The man uttered a shout of alarm, and jumped from
the truck like a flash, but was immediately seized and
held by two of Jim’s men.
sat staring at Jim in amazement, and made no attempt
to move,

“T want you to open that thing,” said Jim to him, point-
ing with his revolver at the wooden box in the metal
framework.

The man turned his head, aid looked at the long box
in a puzzled fashion. He had opened his mouth to \speak,
when suddenly the front panel of the box swung out
toward him, and a black figure flashed past him, and
sprang wildly from the truck into the midst of the amazed
railway men.

Taken by surprise as he was by the suddenness of the .

thing, yet Jim Harvey had recognized the swarthy, power-—

\

The second man on the truck >

   

 

ae

WRC 5 aie Pa eS A,

 

 
 
        
     
     
     
     
      
    
         
   
     
        
        
 

Res

 

 

   
  

     
 
    
ras
ust
ine

Ose

ful figure that had eme oid from the box. His voice rang
out in a sharp -citinentl to the railway men:

“Hold that man!”

-.. With his revolver ready for use, he stepped forward as
be he spoke, but the man had fallen as he reached the
» and he now lay pinned under three of the
hands. nate
(Jim looked at the swarthy face as it stared’ viciously up
at him, and he saw that he had made no mistake. It was
Black Michaels.

At the bottom of the box that Black Michaels had made
such a desperate effort to escape from, Jim Harvey found
the two missing \boxes of bullion.

Within an hour’ they were safe in the vaults of the
bank they had been consigned to, and in far less time
than that Black Michaels was behind stout prison bars.

ground,

 

sturdy. station

  
   

CHAPTER XXIV.

AT HARRISVILLE,

 

Jim Harvey found it difficult to conceal his discontent at
a message he had just received from headquarters. It
told him that the general manager had placed his private
» car at his disposal, and wished him to proceed at once
to Harrisville, a small station about two hundred milés
from headquarters, to inquire into some breach of the regu-
lations that had been reported by the chief train dis-
patcher.

In three days Black Michaels was to be tried for his
desperate attempt to steal the bullion from the night ex-
press to Toronto, and it was of paramount importance
that he. should be at the trial to give evidence against
the lawless train pirate.

Jf he failed to appear as a witness, it was almost in-
evitable that Black Michaels would go free, for the bag-
gage-master whom he had attacked was in no condition
“to attend the court, and it was certain that if he did

 
 
 
  
    
  
   

 

 
 
  
   
   
  
 
    
 

Thea, too, Jim Harvey had Found that the train hands
who had helped him to capture the freight thief were
strangely unwilling to be dragged into the trial.

He meted this reluctance to their fear of the Ven geanes

   
 
 
  
 

itnesses.
per these circumstances ae Harvey was Pee

    
 

 
 
  

 
 

Now, although Mr. Fletcher gave no hint of this to
yim, the journey to slates was of no Sadat TERE

 
   
 

 
 
 
 
  
   

 

| out of - atcha ye thus. put him pri the reach
the conspirators.

   

     
    
 

  

id presently. “T don’t want to break into your 1 rest

TOP

giving

he dauiney. to. yoaapedeyile was eben cartil, pane, while

      

 

Wi

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LEKLY.,

 

23

hours, and if we get to work after breakfast to-morrow,
we'll finish up in time for you to flag the noon train, so
that | get back to Montreal in the evening. Just
no objection, Pll take a walk with yon,
what kind of a little village you are living in.”
Wilkins welcomed this proposition heartily, and cordially
suggested that when they which lay

can
os :
now, 1i youve

and see

reached Harrisville,
about a mile and a half from the station, Jim should stay
an hour or so with him and share his supper.

“There’s nothing in the way of sights to show you,’
remarked. “The village has grown up round a couple of
paper mills, and the residents don’t amount to more than
three hundred people, most of whom are employed at
the mills. You'll understand now why passenger trains
seldom stop here; the station is mostly used for the
transport, of freight.”

“You had two passengers this evening,” said Jim,
casually remembering two men he had seen leave the’
train. ;

“Yes,” replied Wilkins; “I did not notice them particu-
larly, although they were strangers. They are probably
new hands for one of the mills.”

Just then the night telegraph operator arrived,’ and
while Wilkins closed up his office, and left this official
in charge of the station, Jim Harvey walked to the pri-
vate car, and asked the black porter who looked after
it to tell the cook not to expect him to supper.

This done, he rejoined .Wilkins, and together they
stepped from. the platform into the narrow, white ribbon
of road that ran vagrantly through the wooded country-
side to Harrisville.

Jim Harvey supped frugally with the station agent, and
chatted with him for about an hour afterward. . Then
he set out to walk to the private car, where iii bed
awaited him; but, though the black porter sat watching f for
him till long after midnight, he did not arrive there, and
in the morning, when Wilkins looked for him to keep the
appointment he had made on the previous night, he was
missing. ,

in the train dispatcher’s office, at the headquarters of
the Sunset line in Montreal, the news of -Jim Harvey’s
strange disappearance catised a very considerable sensa-
tion.

* he

Something of the real reason of Jim’s mission to Harris-
ville had leaked out, and Coleman, chief train dispatcher,
who knew the actual facts from the general manager, »
quickly concluded that, even if worse had not befallen
him, Jim Harvey had been kidnaped to prevent him from
evidence against Black Michaels.

In short, pithy sentences he explained the “situation to
Mr. Fletcher, and concluded a hurried conference by
suggesting that a couple of men should at once be sent’
to Harrisville to help in the search for Jim Harvey.

Mr. Fletcher, who was troubled with the most alarming
fears and pictured” Jim as badly injured, if not already
dead, welcomed this forlorn hope of saving him from
Black Michaels’’ vengeance, _ s

He sent an urgent message to Sullivan, Jim Hacyeirs
lieutenant on the Freight Patrol, telling him the news and
bidding him report at the roundhouse at once for a! pega
ney ta Harrisville, while he himself made immediate
preparation to accompany him.

An hour later, Sullivan, an’ engineer testi for’ that
trip, pore. out o ‘best locomofive ther: 1 in ue noua beate :

     
 

: ARONA Ramp Shane aa eager Coherent mie RBI a reescipaelper 4
a

  

. " ae -
SERRA Ae ct Sin are

24 NEW TIP
and with one car attached, in which the general manager
and Payne, of the Freight Patrol, sat as passengers, made
a record run to Harrisville.

CHAPTER XXV.
IMPRISONED.

At about the same time that Wilkins, of Harrisville,
was relating the details of Jim Harvey’s disappearance
to the chief train dispatcher, the missing chief, of the
Freight Patrol was painfully trying to open his eyes and
wondering vaguely why he had such a fierce, throbbing
ache in his head.

He was lying flat on his back, but presently, when he
managed to lift his eyelids, he rose to a sitting position,
and looked around him.

He saw that he was in a dirty, dimly lighted room that
was perfectly bare except for a bundle of foul-looking
straw in one corner.

From the walls and ceiling great patches of plaster had
fallen, revealing bare laths and grimy brickwork. The
murkiness of the room was explained when he found
that it had no other window than a narrow slit in the wall
that was overhung by cobwebs.

The door was facing him, but he had not the strength
yet to find out whether it was locked and held him pris-
oner or merely shut.

He felt very weak and dazed, and leaned against the
wall to support himself. Then he tried to reconstruct
the events that had occurred since his arrival in Harris-
ville. He remembered that he had eaten supper with the
station agent, and then started to walk back to the railway
station.

The idea presented itself that Wilkins had followed him
stealthily and assaulted him, but he instantly dismissed this
as absurd, But something must have happened to him, and
whatever it was could scarcely have been an accident, or
else he would not have awakened to find himself in such

villainous- looking room,

” His head ached terribly when he tried to think, but at
last in a hazy way he recalled that, when he had left
Harrisville about half a mile in his rear, he had heard
the soft patter of footsteps close Dota him, and had
turned to discover the reason.

His memory would serve him no further than this, and

it was plain to him now that he had been struck down
when he turned.

When at last he staggered to his feet and reached
the door to find it securely fastened, he knew that he had
hit on the tryth, that he had been trapped, and that Black
' Michaels was at the bottom of the treacherous business.

The impulse to escape without delay seized him strongly
at this thought, and he flung himself furiously at the
door.

There was a swift iyiat startling answer to the crash of
the impact of his body against the panels.

, “Drop that!” came a curt command, in a rough, brutal
voice, from the other side of the door, '

“Let me out of here!” shouted Jim,

The only reply was a mocking chuckle.

“Open the door or I’ll smash it down!” cried Jim wildly.

“If you have an ounce of sense in your head, you'll
stay where you are and keep quiet,” was the grim, threat-
“We're going to keep you here for a little

ening answer,

 

SPORES Sa Eg am i a ae RTE EE ee I

TOP WEEKLY

holiday,
noise,”

Jim’s answer to this was to hi i himself against the
door with such violence that a panel split. He stepped back
to prepare for another assault on it, but the man without
checkmated this move by suddenly opening the door, and
entering the room. Jim found himself staring at a re-
volver.

“Maybe this will persuade you to stay quiet,” growled
the man, shaking the shining weapon threateningly. “Go
over there and lie down.”

He pointed to the heap of dirty straw ashe spoke, and
in that instant Jim jumped for him, and struck with all
his strength at the point of the ugly jaw.
as he had hoped it would, the man fell to the boards with
a crash, and the revolver exploded harmlessly.

Exultant at his success,\Jim waited not an instant to
see if the man could rise. He sprang to the door, passed
through it, slammed it behind him, and locked it. Then,
with his hand still on the key, he paused, breathless, to
pull himself together before making his final dash for
liberty.

While he stood thus he saw that he was at the head
of a stairway. He felt a draft of air blow refreshingly

but it'll be bad for your health if you make a

_ on his face, and knew that he was but a step or two from

the outer world. A moment only he lingered, and then
he moved swiftly to the stairs.

As he turned the stairhead, the bulky body of a man
who was stealthily ascending the stairs crashed into him.

He staggered back; but, before he could escape out of
reach, a heavy fist swung toward his head, and sent him
staggering against the door he had just locked. A second
blow laid him unconscious on the floor.

CHAPTER XXVI.
FOUND.

“By the Holy St. Patrick! but what’s that?” exclaimed
Sullivan.

The ex-engineer of the Sunset Express stood: on the

step of the general manager’s Pullman, which still waited
on the siding at Harrisville. For two days he had searched
tirelessly for Jim Harvey, and now, after a restless night,
he had given up all hope of sleep.

It was only because of his persistent belief that Jim’

Harvey was kept prisoner somewhere close at hand that he
still remained at Harrisville.
the search in despair on the previous evening, and gone
back to Montreal confident that Harvey had been secretly
taken there, and, clinging to the hope that he might find
some trace of him before Black Michaels’ trial.

Payne had gone, with him to return to his patrol duties,
but Sullivan had begged for another day at Harrisville.

He had been staring for some time through the hazy
dawn in the direction of the village when his exclamation
of astonishment burst suddenly from his lips.

The next, moment, he rushed madly across the line and
seized hold of a wild-looking figure that had just stag-
gered from the road onto the station platform.

“It is Jim.
Then he noticed that the arm he had gripped, and
was working like a pump handle in his elation, hung limp
in his grasp, and at the same moment Jim Harvey, for if;

was certainly his young chief, swayed toward him, and

collapsed in his arms.

The blow landed

Mr. Fletcher had given up /

By the piper, it is!” he shouted exultantly.

    
   

a>

 

 

   
   
  
   
    
  
  
   
 
  
   
   
  
  
  
   
 

    
   
  
2 ee ee OD

~~

  
 

 

is less than two miles from the station.

“Am I in time?” asked Jim weakly, as Sullivan picked
him up as though he were a baby and carried him to the
Pullman.
Sullivan’s face was troubled. He knew that Jim re-
ferred, to Black Michaels’ trial, and he knew also that
there was now no train on the schedule that could get
them to Montreal in time. But he made up his mind to
break this bad news to Jim as gently as possible.
“That’s more than I can say right off,’ he replied.
“We've not much time to spare, anyhow, but you can take
it from me that we'll get to Montreal in time if mortal
man can do it.”

When he reached the Pullman, he laid Jim gently on
the bed, set the black porter to work preparing bandages
for his bruised head, and directed the cook to serve food

4} and drink at once.

Meanwhile, he gathered Jim’s. story from him, and
learned that his captors had stolen away less than four
hours before, leaving him free to do as he willed.

He judged from this that the kidnapers knew that there

was no train running through Harrisville to Montreal
until morning, and that there was, therefore, no longer
need for them to act as jailers.

When Jim Harvey at last regained his liberty, he found
that he had been imprisoned in a little shack in the woods

~“T’ll be seeing about our train now,” said Sullivan, in
a confident tone, when he had assured himself that he
- could do no more for Jim’s comfort and well-being.

e He looked at his watch as he left the car and found

 

 
 

ae
| muttered Sullivan.

ma< oD Oo

1 ‘fell back from him in alarm.

| that it was already a few minutes past six. If he could not

_ get Jim Harvey to Montreal by eleven o’clock, Black
Michaels would be set.at liberty, for he had learned from
Mr. Fletcher that there was no hope that the injured
baggage-master would be able to ve evidence against the

| train pirate.

_ “There’s not-a passenger train sts through here till
- close on nine o’clock,” was the night operator’s reply to his
“anxious inquiries.

“Tsn’t there any sort of an ould engine about at all?”
ried Sullivan desperately.

The operator shook his head, and turned to attend to

   
 

} @ message that was clicking from his sounder.

eh

“And there’s no time to get an engine from Montreal,”
“What’s the message?” he added idly,
as the operator made a note on a pad, and turned toward
him again.

“Oh, just to warn me of a freight coming from Bassett’s
_ Crossing.”

_ “What!” yelled Sullivan, so fiercely that the operator
“And ye wouldn’t have
‘old me of it if I hadn’t chanced to ask ye?”

“But it’s coming away from. Montreal;’ remonstrated
| he operator feebly, “and, anyhow, it couldn’t get you to
. | Montreal by the time you want to be there.’

_ “Man, man,” exclaimed Sullivan, with angry disgust,
i “ye’'re enough to make a saint cuss! Has that freight
left Bassett’s Crossing yet?”

“It’s just about pulling out, I thowld « say.”

“Well, then, get through a hurry call, and tell them
© rush her along here like a streak of lightning. I’m
going to have the engine off her, switch it on the turn-
able, and run it clean through to Montreal. Get a mes-

 
 
   
   

 

 

 

  
   
  

  

   

 

 

   

  

és sage | th rough as quick as you can to headquarters; tell
i hem what I want to do, and get authority to do it. Tell

   

NEW -liP TOP” WEEKLY. ’. 25

them Mr. Jim Harvey’s found, and they’ll give a. clear
line for that freight engine if it’s the worst traveling
scrap heap on the road.’

A little later, swaying, plunging, shrieking furious notes
of warning, the freight engine that Sullivan had comman-
deered rushed cometlike through the sleepy countryside.
In the cab of the engine Sullivan, a demoniac figure, with
inflamed, smoke-begrimed face and blazing eyes, handled
his levers or peered intently through his lookout glass
at the glittering threads of rail that spun toward him.

“By the piper!” screamed Sullivan, “she’s moving as
I’ll bet she never did before. We ought to make Mon-
treal in three hours if we can only keep the rails.”

The fireman grunted, but did not lift his head from his
work,

Montreal was still close on a hundred and fifty miles
away, and Sullivan’s estimate of reaching it in three hours
was based on keeping up the speed at which they were
then traveling.

On they rushed, through open prairie land, over culverts
and bridges, between threatening walls of mighty cuttings,
through giant gorges, and, anon, along a shelf on the
wall of a great mountain pass, overhanging chasmic depths.

Safely through all they hurried on, leaping forward
to perils that no other driver would have dared face on
such an engine at such a speed.

In the general manager’s car, Jim Harvey passed the
time impatiently.

The cook and porter, panic-stricken at first by the pace
at which Sullivan was driving an old freight engine, had
become somewhat reconciled to it as the miles flew by and
no accident had happened.

It was five minutes to eleven by the station clock at
Montreal when Sullivan pulled into the terminus. Jim
Harvey stepped painfully out of the car, and while the
porter ran to get him a hack he went up to the engine to
give Sullivan a grip of thanks.

“Do you think you’re in time?” asked Sullivan anx-
iously. “I got the best I could out of the old kettle with-
out getting her red-hot.”

“Can just do it, I think,” replied Jim, and hurried away
to the waiting vehicle.

He had told his driver to make a dash for the court-
house when a motor car swept up to the station. The gen-
eral manager sprang out.

“Too late fot Black Michaels,” he said. “The scoun-
drel was brought up half an hour ago and discharged for
lack of evidence. But I’m glad to see you alive, Jim.
After all, that’s the only thing that matters.”

TO BE CONTINUED.

EAGLE AS AN EMBLEM.

In ancient mythology the eagle was believed to carry
the souls of the dying to their abode on Mount Olympus,
and was called the Bird of Love. The eagle was first taken’
as a symbol of royal power by the ancient Etruscans, who
bore its image upon their standards. In the year 87 B. C.
a ‘silver eagle, with expanded wings poised on the top of
a spear, with a thunderbolt held in its claws, was adopted
as the military standard to be borne at the head of their
legions by the Romans. The national standard of Prussia
bears a black eagle, that of Poland a white one. Napoleon
I. took a golden eagle for his standard, modeled of pure
gold, and bearing a thunderbolt after the pattern of the
 

     
   
   
    
  
   
  
  
   
   
  
   
  
   
    
  
     
  
  
   
    
  

 

Sa

 

in a short, Latin dialogue entitled

 

26 NEW. TIP -TOP: ‘WEEKLY.
j
Romans. The standard was disused under the Bourbons, the street, over obstacles, around corners and what-not,

>

but was restored by a decree of Louis Napoleon in 1852:
The eagle was first» used on American coins in 1788, on
cents and half cents issued from the Massachusetts Mint.
It was adopted in the plan of a national coinage as a design
upon all gold coins, and on the silver dollar, half dollar,
and quarter dollar. The design of an eagle was at one time
suggested for the national flag, but was abandoned.

A CLEVER ESCAPE.

Ceelius Secundus Curion, a zealous Lutheran, having had
the boldness to convict of falsehood in open /church, at
Casal, a monk who had indulged in the most calumnious
insinuations against the great leader of the German .Re-
fotmation, was immediately arrested by order of the in-
quisitor of Turin.

After, having been transferred successively to several
prisons, he contrived to escape in a manner so skillful and
unexpected that his enemies accused him of having had
recoutse to magic. As this was an accusation not less
dangerous. than that of heresy, Curion hastened to ex-
culpate himself by publishing the details of his enterprise
robus.” The follow-
curiosity.

“Dp
ing extracts will satisfy the reader’s

“In my new prison I had been confined for a week, with
huge pieces of wood chained to my feet, when I was fa-
vored with a sudden inspiration from heaven. As soon
as the young man who acted as my keeper entered my
chamber, I begged and prayed of him to release one of my
feet from its encumbrances, It would be sufficient security,
I said, that I should still by the other foot be fastened
to an enormous log.

“As he was a humane sort of fellow, he consentéd, and
set one foot free. A day, two days passed, during which
I applied myself to work, Taking off my shirt, and also
the stocking from the leg which was at liberty, I: made
them up into a dummy resembling a leg, on which I put
a shoe, I was in want of something, however, to give it
consistency, and was anxiously looking about in all direc-
tions, when I caught sight of a stick lying under a row of
seats.

“Seizing it joyfully, I inserted it into the sham limb, and
concealing the true one under my cloak, waited the result
of my stratagem. When my young keeper made his ap-
pearance next morning, he asked me how I was.

““T should do pretty well,’ I said, ‘if you would be good
enough to put my fetters on the other leg, so that each
may have a rest in turn.’ He assented, and, without per-
ceiving it, attached the log to the dummy.”

At night, when their’ loud snores informed him that his
jailers were asleep, Curion threw aside the false leg, re-

- sumed his shirt and stocking, and opened noiselessly the

prison bolt. Afterward, though not without difficulty, 1
scaled the wall, and got away without interruption.

oy

—

c

 

 

BLIND BOYS’ RACE.
Just at this season of the year is the time when every

boy who is really a boy wants to be out of doors, running
and jumping and dashing about from one game to an-

other. And if there is one thing he indulges in and en-
joys more than all else—except baseball, of course—it is
running a race with another boy. .

i eaerrM hee you see boys dashing along, dodging across

the lower limbs equal in length,

‘son will, unconsciously, take a longer step with the longer —

. showing that a considerable majority of ees are ¢ right-

RE Tne iret Ree

 

 

each making his legs fly as fast as they possibly can to iq
be the first to reach a certain point.

who unfortunately are blind have this same 4
desire, for they are still boys, you know, despite the fact

Now, boys

that all is dark to them and the woods and the fields beauty
spots they know only by description. But, in a certain in-
stitution for the blind, things have been so arranged that

 

   
 

the poor blind boys can run and race just as;does any :
healthy lad. And to see them at play you would never | !
imagine they cannot see what they are doing. ; t

Look! Here is a race about to come off now. See the | ;
contestants line up at the start waiting but for the word :
to be off. They are blind, every one of them!

How will they run straight? How will they not lose l
their sense of direction and reach the finish of the tace as } ;
straight as a die? Well, you see those two posts, a little | ‘
more than one hundred yards apart, and the wire running | *
from one to the other? That will guide one of the blind | t
unners—and there’s a wire stretched breast high between |
two posts for each of the runners. as

Watch now. See, they’re off! Ah, you understand it |
now! Yes, each runner holds in one of his hands a wooden — 2
handle fastened by a short chain to a ring on the wire. :

And, see, as he runs the ring slips along the wire, thus M
enabling him to keep his course. a
Now, watch and see what happens as they near the finish. |
Clear across the end of the course, you notice, is sus-
pended a fringe of light cords at such a height that the
ends strike the runners in the face, warning them when ‘to
stop. a
There! That long, spindle-legged boy has won! See, he
has felt the cords strike him and he knows he has reached
.the end of the race. See, he’s stopping. Why, if you didn’t
know beforehand they were, you’d never in the world have
imagined these fleet-footed boys were blind, would | you?

 

 

      
     
         
 

é

   

A HINT TO PEDESTRIANS.

Now the holiday season is well under way, pedestrian
readers will be glad to hear of an easy method of rélieving
tired feet. Put a good handful of salt into a gallon of very
hot water; plunge the feet in, and bathe the legs far up
to the knees as possible. When the water gets cold, rub’
the feet with a rough towel. This method used night —
and morning will prove of great benefit to those on walk- |
ing tours, and it has the advantage of being re ib
everywhere.

    
     
     
       
     
     
         
     
     
     
 

 

 
    

WHY PEOPLE WALK IN A CIRCLE.

The! tendency to deviate from a straight line, which
is found in most persons, when walking without a definite |
path or laridmark to guide them, is due to slight inequality |
in the ler igth of the legs, Careful measurements of a se-
ries of skeletons have shown that only ten per cent had
The result of one limb 4
being longer than the other will naturally be that a per- |

    
     
       
     
      
 

  

    
 

limb, and consequently will incline to the right or to the |
left, according as the left or right leg is the longer. | Fur-
ther, on measurement of the arms, it is found that in —
seventy-two per cent the right arm is longer than the left;

    

  

      
     
     
 

handed and left-legged,

   
“| NEWS ITEMS

NEW. TIP TOP’: WEEKLY.

  

OPIN FERES

 

 

ne 3

ct

EY. - All Indians to Touch Flag for Monument.

ae Doctor Joseph Kossuth Dixon, of Philadelphia, will

ny if visit every Incian tribe in the United States this summer

ag fa in an effort to afford all Indians the opportunity of par-
4 ticipating indirectly in the ceremonies incident to the dedi-

ne - cation of the proposed North American Indian monument

td | at Fort Wadsworth, in New York Harbor.

- The expedition is backed by Rodney Wanamaker, and
jae . Doctor Dixon goes with the special authority of President
of Ba Wilson. The flag erected over the Fort Wadsworth monu-
Oe i: ment will be taken from tribe to tribe and finally, after all
te de the tribes have touched the same flag, it will be sent to
vd : - the galleries beneath the memorial monument.

 

‘Tart Baby no Myth, One Mother Finds.

Mrs. Ray Heller, of Brooklyn, N. Y., took her two-year-
old child, Harriet, with her recently when she went to
the grocery. Harriet was left outside, in neat white clothes,
_ her pink-and-white face smiling.
When Mrs. Heller came out she found a black baby in-
_ stead of her own child, and she screamed. A crowd col-
. lected. David Margolis, a roofer, solved the puzzle.

“Ym tarring the roof over the grocery,” said he, “and
I upset a pot of tar. It poured down, and I guess it coated
the baby.”

Somebody called an ambulance, but Mrs.’ Heller insisted
on taking Harriet home, saying she needed a scrubbing,
not medical attendance.

 
    
 
  
   
   
  
    

/

  

Cigarette Causes Girl’s Death.

Miss Catherine Breen, nineteen years old, lies dead at
Paterson, N. J., as the result of burns caused by falling
asleep while smoking a cigarette.

She said she had been addicted to the cigarette habit
for some time, and recently ‘had made a practice of smok-

   
  
   
   
 
 
   

ing. gion

sie ing,in bed. She hoped her experience would be a warn-
si ing to all girls and women to refrain from the use of ciga-
‘> rettes.

ub ‘

ht Preacher Artests Cowboys.

tk- YE Went five cowboys who were shooting and rioting in

 

the streets of Debeque, a small town near Grand Junction,
Colo., were arrested by Reverend A. F. Glover, 22 years of
age, who, “covering” the men with his revolver, marched
the entire party to jail. Friends of the men who were ar-
tested immediately secured a warrant for the minister’s
arrest, charging him with carrying concealed weapons, but
Mayor Walker ordered the city marshal not to serve the
writ.

The trouble started when Abe Ong, a cowboy, called
Mayor Walker a liar, and the mayor knocked him down.
The cowboys then rode through the streets of the village,
shooting their revolvers.

    
   
  
    
  
   
   
   
 
 

Japanese Mexico Fisheries Fail,
The attempts of Japanese to develop a fishing industry
along the coast of Mexico, appear to) have been a failure.
The Japanese Fishing Guild, organized some time ago in
Mexico, has decided to abandon its fishery business because
the very meager results. The sea bottom along the

   
 
   
  
   

  

‘

Pacific coast of Mexico is of gravel, and without enough
seaweed to make the spawning of fish sufficiently abundant.
Moreover, fish are rarely found in shoals in Mexican wa-
ters, and large catches are impossible. All this has dis-
couraged the Japanese, and it is understood they will trans-
fer their activities to the waters of Chili, where more sat-
isfactory results are expected.

A Greek Theater of Conctete.

A Greek theater of concrete with a stage built on classic
lines, with concentric rings of concrete for tiers of seats
which will accommodate 30,000 persons, will be built by
Colonel Griffith J. Griffith, in Vermont Cafion, Griffith Park,
Hollywood, and will be presented to the city of Los An-
geles.

“I hope to have the stage and ehough of the theater
completed by Christmas to seat ten or fifteen thousand peo-
ple,” said Colonel Griffith recently, “so that a celebration
may be held there Christmas Day. Reénforced concrete
will be used so it will stand for centuries. I will meet the
cost, estimated at $100,000.”

Mascot Saves a House Cat.

Mique, the prize-wiining Dalmatian hound, mascot of
Engine Company 8, in New York, missed responding to an
alarm of fire for the first time in over a year and a ha’f,
and it was all due’to the house cat.

Puss was under the engine, dozing, when an alarm
sounded. She was about to be crushed under the wheels
when the dog grabbed her by the neck and dragged her out
of harm’s way. He was not quick enough, however, and
one Of his hind legs was crushed.

Pacific Guns’ High Score,

Fifteen of the twenty shots fired from one of San Fran-
cisco’s mortar battery defenses recently struck a target
five and a half miles out at sea. For night practice this is
regarded as/an unusual score.

The target, which was in the glare of fivé powerful
searchlights from the shore, was not visible to the gunners
who fired from a pit behind a hill. The range was tele-
phoned to them from stations overlooking the entrance of
the harbor.

Ancients’ Drugs Still Used.

The first of a series of four lectures on “Drugs, Old and
New,” was recently delivered at the city of London by
the Gresham professor of physic.

The lecturer stated that as man became civilized his
knowledge was written down, and they could read on tombs
and in ancient writings that castor oil was employed 5,000
years ago by the aneient Egyptians; that rhubarb was used
in China long béfore the Christian era; that saffron was
in vogue in remote ages, and that opium was well known
as a potent drug by Greek and Roman writers. Even now
their knowledge of drugs might be purely empirical or it
might be based on definite knowledge of the chemical sub-
stances they administered and their effect.

Many drugs of the greatest importance had come from
uncivilized people—quinine, for instance. Botanical gar-

 

 
 

    

     
     
  

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dens in which medicinal plants were cultivated were insti-. fully refrain from everything known to be injurious to the
tuted in Paris, Amsterdath, Copenhages, and other cities, arterial system, such as overphysical strain, free indulgence

and in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries the uni- in rich foods, alcohol, and tobacco, especially the latter.
versity towns provided themselves with gardens to teach Kor, while it was difficult to tell precisely what ill effects
the art of pharmacy. alcohol exerted on the blood cells, it was plainly evident

The faith in unknown remedies was as old as medicine that nicotine was much more injurious. With arterio-

itself, and was certainly encouraged in the days when _ sclerosis patients from the Orient, whose immoderate ciga-
priests were the chief druggists and enhanced the value of  rette smoking’ prevails, nicotine was the chief criminal.
hi vies their drugs by a little judicious mixture of witchcraft and As for tea and coffee, there was much less to be said.
23. mystical religion. Fabulous fortunes had been and were Strong black coffee certainly did produce netvous affec-
still being amassed by the sale of patent foods and drugs. tions of the heart, but it had little effect upon the arteries,
As long as these foods and drugs were only harmless, they and tea was injurious only in isolated cases. ;
merely formed oné method of wasting money. But, un- |
fortunately, the evil effects of some of them made the New World’s Swimming Marks. J
question much more serious. In a swimming meet at Honolulu, Hawaii, under Ama-
Paracelsus was the first prominent advocate of the so- teur Athletic Union rules, Duke Kahanamoku, world’s
called “doctrine of signatures.” According to him, medi- champion, swam 100 yards in 55 1-5, seconds, and 220 yards
cinal herbs had distinct outward: signs to proclaim their in 2:34 2-5. According to the announcement of officials in q
virtues, Thus the leaves of the cyclamen, which had some charges of the contests the performances constituted new ‘
4 tesemblance to the human ear, must be useful for aural world’s records. Miss Ruth Stacker, aged 19, covered fifty — ;
diseases, et cetera. The doctrine of the connection between yards in 31 seconds. This was claimed as a new record as
astrology and medicine dated from Babylon, where it first for a woman swimmer. i
xf atose. The importance of herbals declined as a finer dis-
F tinction came to be drawn between botany and medicine, i “Eugenic” Patson Shunned. mn
and for the study of drugs and pharmacopeeias took their Business is slack with the Reverend C. Thurston Chase, po
place, the first pharmacopceia published under authority be- pastor of the Central Congregational Church, at Lynn, t
ing that of Murenberg, which appeared in 1542. Maéss., since he announced on May 19 that he would not i
= perform marriage ceremonies unless prospective brides 7,
Heats Rat Gnawing Match. and bridegrooms produced physicians’ certificates testify- 23
ay x Iliness kept L. C. Thompson, of Warrenton, Ga. awake ing to their physical fitness. :
ie at his home a few nights ago. At a late hour, when he The city records show that there has been the usual a
al NS knew every one in the house was in bed, he heard a match mntimber of’ marriages performed since May -19: by Lynn of
ae scratched. A hurried investigation revealed that a rat had clergymen, but none has been of the eugenic variety. |
See. broken into a box of matches in a bureau drawer and was ;
beet _ in the act of devouring them when one of them was ig- New Hot-weather “Dont’s.” ee as '
© nited. Had Thompson been asleep the house, would prob- Some hot-weather “don’ts” were.issued recently by- Doc-
ably have been destroyed. tor Carl Alsberg, who succeeded Doctor Harvey W. Wiley. }
(Kone as chief of the United States bureau of chemistry. Doctor ;
Oil Industry Booming. Alsherg would abolish the thermometer, because of its

In all oil fields of the country development work has dispiriting influence on the — of perspiring men and
reached such magnitude as has never been witnessed since women. Here are his “don'ts”

the inception of the industry, with the exception of a few Don’t eat to excess. |
districts where the territory has been fully developed. Don’t wear too many clothes.
Operators are not only striving for new production in the Don’t drink ice-cold beverages.
rf old districts. ; ‘Don’t look at the thermometer and keep thinking how
bate arts The various oil well supply houses never at any previous hot it is.
& time,had so great a demand for goods in their line, Just Iced drinks, he says, disorder the stornach. The secre
; now there is a scarcity of experienced drillers and tool of keeping cool in the dogs days, according to the doctor, ©
: dressers.. lies largely in temperate eating, taking just SHO sus-

In the fields of northwestern Ohio and Indiana there is tenance to keep off the pangs of hunger.

a continued increase in new work. In neither of these oa
districts is there much prospect of developing any new Lipton Puts Burton in Full Command.
pools, but the work is confined to further drilling in the “In intrusting the command of Shamrock IV. in ithe
producing sectiotis. . races for the America’s cup to an amateur yachtsman, W.
In the Hlinois fields the same conditions exist, with new ~ P. Burton, I am aware I am doing something: ‘unprece-
work starting in the old sections and a few wildcat ventures dented,” said Sir Thomas Lipton, the English yachtsman,
under way. recently, “but I believe the results will oe the: wisdom
of my choice.

my elk i How to Avoid Disease. “IT regard Burton as fully the equal of any piheaaibadt 4
s 7 .  Leeturing on arterlo-chilefosis, which he termed die Da- skipper in this country, the proof of which he repeatedly
nd mocles sword suspended over the heads of all, Privy Coun- has given while sailing against them in various yacht
cilor Professor Adolf von Struempell, the eminent Vienna has owned, notably with the 19-meter Octavia in tort,
(SERS and physiologist, gave some valuable suggestions he finished the season at the top of the class. ©
as to how this dread disedse might be avoided. i course,” Sir Thomas eee out, “Burton will t
_ Most important it is, he, aes to begin in time and care-|

        
    
  

  

   
    
         
 
     
   

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—two, if he wants them—and Nicholson, the Shamrock’s
designer, who is in the front rank of amateur yachtsmen,
will also sail on the challenger. Nicholson shares my high
opinion of Burton.

“So far as the races are concerned,” Sir Thomas said, in
conclusion, “I shall simply foot the bills, and let Button do
the rest.”

Legend Proved True. ~

A Westphalian legend of a sunken cloister, swallowed
by the earth in a night in punishment for the sins of the
monks, appears now very possibly founded on. fact. The
legendary occurrence has just been repeated on the re-
‘puted site of the ancient monastery, near Rheim, but this
time without involving modern sinners,

Fifteen acres of a wooded moor, still called “the Holy
Lake,” in commemoration of the waters beneath which
monks and monastery disappeared and which in turn slowly
silted np first into marsh and then into moor, have dropped

out of sight. On the spot is now a lake 30 feet deep, with

i only the tops of the higher trees appearing above the sur-

face.

The legend speaks of a rumbling subterranean noise
’ which warn the population of the fate overtaking the
monks, and the same sound, accompanied by a noticeable
trembling of the earth, during the night of April 15, car-
ried the news of the new wonder to the villagers around
the moor. When the spot was visited the next morning
it was’ found that fifteen acres had sunk bodily some
forty feet, the subsidence occurring so evenly and gradu-
ally that birches and pines were still erect in the soil,
though already well below the level of the surrounding
land. Streams of water were pouring from the almost
vertical sides of the cavity, which soon filled to the depth
of about fifteen feet, and then, after an interval, to about
thirty feet. The flow of water still continues, but the

waters seem to have found a concealed outlet, for the levél:

remains fairly. constant.

; Thousands of sightseers are visiting the “miracle,” in-
cluding many geologists, who have already advanced their
- explanations of the phenomena. The country here is un-
derlaid with beds of limestone, which, the geologists as-

San Jacinto Survivor,
‘There is but one nate man who witnessed and par-

"ithe battle of San Jacinto, fought April 21, 1836. This
ole survivor is W. P. Zuber, 94 years old, who lives in
Austin, Texas. Zuber was an active youth of 16 when
Santa Anna was given his severe drubbing by the small
xas army.
uber came from fighting stock. His grandfather, Abra-
am Zuber, was in the American army that forced Lord
ornwallis to porceiee in 1781. re was born in

i Siig and raiding bands of Mexicans.
hen the Civil War broke out, cree was past a age

TOP “WEEK

VKLY. 29
went through the entire war. Without doubt, Zuber has
been in more battles and skirmishes than any man living in
the United States to-day. Most of his life has been spent
fighting for State and country.

Zuber, despite his age, is still active, though he is bent
and hoary. He retains possession of all his faculties. He
takes special delight in recounting scenes of pioneer Texas
days, and some of his hair-breadth escapes—escapes which
excel any found in novels, because they are all true.

This man of a thousand fights declines to draw a pen-
sion without doing something in return, so he has been as-
sighed the duty as acting as guide to the Texas State
senate art gallery. Here hang the pictures not only of
Davy Crockett, Milam, and other Texas heroes,/ but the
painting of Zuber as well. For this, he receives a salary
in addition to his pension, Zuber reads every newspaper
he can find, and has been a Democrat ever since the State
entered the Union.

Won’t Give in to Anglers.

Fishermen who like to cast a fly will find no comfort
in the tariff bill as it has come from the Senate finance
committee. Within a few days many fishermen have com-
plained that the prohibition in the bill against the importa-
tion of feathers of wild birds would be a blow to the man
who wants to make his own flies or to the fly manufacturer,
who is obliged to depend on the feathers of foreign birds
for material for most of his good flies.

An exception ig made on feathers used for scientific or
educational purposes and there have been many sugges-
tions that fishing tackle should be included in this favored
group, The Senate finance committee, however, has not
made any concession of this character. Indeed, the Senate
committee adopted an amendment which strikes directly at
fishing tackles. It reads: /

“Provided that no articles of fishing tackle herein named
shall be imported having attached thereto any of the feath-
ers the importation of which is prohibited by this act.”

Well, How Would “Golden Gate”? Do?

Are you good at thinking up names? If you are, you
may be able to interest Frank Burt, Exposition Building,
San Francisco.

He is:looking for a name for the amusement center at:
the Panama-Pacific Exposition. He is willing to give a
season pass to the first person who strikes upon the happy
phrase.

It was “The Midway” in Chicago, “The Pike” in St.
Louis, and “The Trail” in Jamestown. Now San Fran-
cisco is looking for the spellbinder.

Dogs Hunt in Packs.

Homeless dogs, waifs of the flood, infest the hills a

woods near Dayton, Ohio, and are preying on live stock to
the dismay of the farmers.

The farmers are wondering what they will have to do to
protect their live stock. The dogs escaped the flood, no one
knows just how, fled to the hills, and have lived the wild ©
life since. While there are dogs of all species—the com-

mon cur, the huge mastiff, the fox terrier—they have frat-

ernized in their common hardships and run in a pack much
the same as did their predecessors some time in the remote
past. Heeding the call of the wild, they have readily | .

descended to the canine barbarism from whence they came.
Household favorites and pets a few months ago, ey ie ye

 
NEW: PIP OPOP “WEEKLY,

are now a menace to the community, and may be hunted
down and slain. Many wear collars, expensive ones, mute
proof of the favor they enjoyed at the hand of man in the
days when Dayton knew not the horrors of the flood.
Many of the homes where once the dogs were welcome
have been tenantless since the flood. Many of the dogs
may no more know the sound of the voice of the master.

The waters silenced the call the dogs once leaped to
obey. How the dogs escaped the flood, how they reached
the hills, when their masters, wiser in the things of this
world, failed, is not known. The pack of wild dogs at
the very gates of the city running in a pack is one of the
strange features and problems left by the flood. There is
talk that they may be hunted down and slaughtered.
live stock and fowls have already been slaughtered on the
farms near where the dogs stray.

Wireless Station on Crusoe Island.

The island of Juan\Fernandez, lying far down on the
Pacific side of South America, famed because of its once
lone occupant, “Robinson Crusoe,” is to have a wireless
station.

It is almost two centuries since Daniel Defoe wrote the
romantic story of Alexander Selkirk’s fascinating ad-
ventures on the far-south island upon which he was a
castaway. Yet to-day the book holds its own among the
. good sellers because of the note of genuineness that per-
vades it. For two centuries boys of succeeding genera-
tions have dwelt, in fancy, on the encharited island with
“Crusoe” and his man “Friday,” and quarreled with fate
that their sojourn was not an actuality.

Here Selkirk lived for years, sidetracked beyond the
path of ships, outside of thé call of civilization. Now there
is to be set tip, perhaps on the very site of his hut, a
modern wireless station that can send a message hundreds
of miles across the waves.

Selkirk could only gaze over the tossing sea and impo-
tently long for help; now, if he were living on the island,
he could flash a “C_Q D” or a “S O S” signal to the
world, and in a short space of time rescue ships would be
riding at anchor off his coast, and a long boat would make
a quick collection of him and “Friday” and the parrot, and
all the other transportable accessories of the delightful
romance, and carry them on shipboard, bound for home.

Wireless telegraphy is one of the marvels of the age,
but it is a good thing for bgyish enjoyment of adventure
that Marconi lived after Defoe and “Crusoe”; otherwise
the classic of juvenile literature would have been lost to
the world.

Rector Fights Tango With Model Dances.

Hoping to stop the tango, the turkey trot, and other

modern dances, the Reverend George B. Gilbert, rector of
the Episcopal church at Middletown, Conn., has leased the
dancing pavilion at Lake View Park, and will conduct it
_as a model dance hall during the summer.

Leading society women from the city are chaperons for
the dances.

Wouldn’t Wait for Surgeons,

When he tired of waiting for the doctors who were to
operate on him for appendicitis, Carlyle Goldsmith, a farm-
er, living east of here, began the operation himself. He
was suffering terribly from the pain in his right side, and

had waited two hours for the surgeons, Doctors Ross

t ‘

Small '

Hulen and F, P. Hulen: He whetted his pocketknife until
it was very sharp. When the surgeons arrived he had
opened a place about four inches wide in his side. They
finished the operation, and Goldsmith will recover. The
doctors credit him with going at the job in a remarkably
intelligent manner.

Says He Killed Leon Beton.

A British soldier in the garrison at Port Royal, Jamaica,
has confessed that he committed a murder on Clapham
Common, London, three years ago, for which a man named
Morrison is now serving a life sentence.

Stinie Morrison is serving a life sentence in an English
jail for the murder of Leon Beron, a Frenchman, on Clap-
ham Common, on January 1, 1911. This murder was con-
nected by some with the Houndsditch murders which led
up to the famous “Battle of Sydney Street” less than a
month previously. It was alleged that Beron gave infor-
mation to the police which resulted in the death: of the
two men in the Sydney Street house when it was attacked
by the police and soldiers and the house was set on fire,
Beron was found dead on Clapham Common, and Morri-
son was arrested shortly afterward.

Morrison, who denied that he had committed the murder,
was found guilty on March 15, and sentenced to’ death.
When sentence was pronounced, Morrison exclaimed: “J
am innocent. I do not believe there is a God in heaven!”

Man Killed by Trap He Set for Thief,

Frank Taylor, of Watova, Okla., was found dead in his
chicken house a few yards from his home, having been
killed by a man-killing trap which he had placed in the
chicken inclosure for chicken thieves.

It is supposed Tayor forgot about the death’ trap, and
opened the door of the chicken house hurriedly, causing
the weapon to discharge, the shot striking him full in the
body.

Death Blast Reyeals Coal.

What is regarded by authorities on mine gas as one of
the most remarkable achievements of the kind in the his-
tory of the coal-mining industry in Illinois has just been
completed at the Leiter colliery, at Zeigler.

It follows the series of fatal and disastrous explosions
several years ago which resulted in the death of nearly 100

miners. A large portion of the mine where the gas was

known to have ignited was sealed. After the experts de- $ '

termined that the fire in the sealed territory was /extinct —
an air current was circulated through the gaseous portions.
As a result many entries and a large area of untouched
coal land becomes available.

Doe Dies to Kill Wild Cat.

A big doe, harried and tortured by a large wild cat
clinging and clawing at her throat and back, deliberately
brought on her death and that of the cat, near Clearfield,
Pa., by running in front of a fast-moving freight train’
and dropping to the rails. fe

The doe first was seen by trainmen as she swam Moose
Creek and crossed the tracks of the New York Central
Railroad a few miles below there. At that time the cat
was not in sight, but the doe was going at a terrific gait. —

After the train had rounded a sharp. curve the engineer
saw the doe! with a giant cat fastened to her back. For —
one instant the doe, on seeing the train thundering down

 
ntil
nad
hey
The
bly

ica,
am
1ed

ish
ap-

his
en
‘he

nd
ng
he

Castle ‘Charlton,
‘honeymoon they began in a villa at Lake Como, Italy.

NEW TIP.

} the track, hesitated, and then, with a big bound, she dashed
}, straight for the track and dropped in front of the oncom-
| ing train.

Back to Italy for Trial.

Young Porter Charlton will have to face an Italian jury,
to which will fall the task of deciding whether or not he

must spend the rest of his days in a dungeon because he

dashed out the brains of his wife, the beautiful Mary
while they were Still on that strange

“Ves, I killed her. She was
said Charlton, as he

That was three years ago.
the best woman in the world to me,”

‘reached America, fleeing from the scene of his crime. His

wife’s body was not found until after he had left Lake
Como. {

The youth’s father, Judge Paul Charlton, a rich lawyer,
of New York, put up a great battle to keep his son in this
country, but preparations are now being made to take the
prisoner to Italy, the United States supreme court having
lecided that he must be surrendered. Charlton was but
It was her
He killed her with a statue called

a boy when the married the American beauty.
econd marriage.
“Love.”

Solid Cement His Grave.

A coffin containing the body of Oliver H. Perkins, mil-
jonaire, who died recently, has been placed in, the heart
of a block of cement ten feet deep by ten feet square in
Woodlawn Cemetery, Des Moines, Iowa.

An excavation ten feet deep by ten feet square was made.

sement was poured into the grave to a depth of three

et, upon which was placed a steel casket. Perkins’ body
as in a wooden coffin, which was placed inside the steel

asket. After the. casket had been set in place cement
s poured oyer them until the grave was filled.

The Greatest Play Bescher Ever Saw,
“Say, boys, I’ve seen some funny plays,” said Bob
escher, the Cincinnati Reds’ fleet outfielder, at a fanning
ee recently, “but let me tell you what I consider the rich-
‘st one ever pulled off,
“It was when I was a member of the rivion team, of
e ‘Central League, and the stunt was pulled by ‘Punch’
noll, then manager of the Evansville team, and con-
dered one of the brainiest men in that league, which
lays some pretty fast ball at that.
t happened in the fag end ofthe season, and Dayton
Evansville were batting hard for the pennant and every
ne counted. We were Dieviog in Daying in the ar

ae in the final hanes we were ‘Tending them by one
A. ell, it happened that the man proee dines Punch in

‘Knoll strode to the a detertvined to lay down a
aha and BOE: his: sneer. down to, second. He

ae pulled that big sight arm back aiid a one fly

h rd as he could throw the pill. Punch closed his eyes

T got
lh on the’ run and shot it in time to 5 hold the. runner

,
De?

TOP WEEKLY. — 31

ahead of Punch on third, but Punch only saw the ball
sailing over his head bound for home plate. I was play-
ing center field then.

“*Aha,’ said the Eva boss to himself, ‘I don’t know
whether that’s an out or a run, but here’s where I grab
off an extra base for myself.’ With that he dashed madly
to third, arriving there triumphant.

“Yes, that was the prettiest and easiest steal of third I
ever saw, but there was only one trouble with it: Third
base was already occupied. That might not have mattered
so much, maybe the umpire wouldn’t have noticed it, only
Punch, when he saw what he had done, tried to steal back
to second, and the man on third, being considerably rattled
by this little show that was being’ staged, tried to make
way for his boss by stealing home. What was the re-
sult? Oh, nothing much—just a double play.”

Fred Falkenbere a Wonder.

One of the miracles of the season is Fred Falkenberg,
the lanky pitcher of the Cleveland team. About the only
explanation that can be given for Falkenberg’s remarkable
success is the fact that he has gained control of the ball.
It used to be his failing that he could not put the ball where
he wanted to, and as a result he was not successful,

Now he has as good control as any pitcher in the league.
He does not-possess a lot of speed, but he has a fade-away
ball which baffles most batters. Falkenberg is not a pitcher
of the strike-aut variety. He allows the batters to hit, but
it. is seldom that the ball is hit hard. Most of the time
the. batter fails to get.a good hold of the sphere and easy
chances are offered to the fielders,

Ball Player Who Don’t Get Nervous.

If ever the St. Louis Cardinals get a chance to play
in the world’s series there is one athlete on the team who.
says he will not be a bit nervous, but will go on playing
just as he does in tlig regular league games.

And this athlete is Mike Mowrey. Mowrey claims that.
it makes no difference to him how important a contest is,
he never gets nervous. To his mates he is known as “Iron”
Mowrey. The sorrel-topped third baser declares he never
will forget the day he broke into the big ring at Cincinnati,
quite a few years ago. It was on a Sunday, and a double-
header was being contested.

“Well, that day I made five errors,” said -Mike, “but it
never bothered me a bit. All’ I would do was to laugh.
And the funny part of it all was that not a fan hooted me.

“After making a few. bobbles I had almost every one
of the fans with me. And that’s just the way I would
act in a world’s series game. I don’t consider them a bit
harder than a regular contest in the National League.

“To make up for my ertors, I banged out five safeties,
so it was even up—five errors and five base hits the day I
made my début in the National League.

“Although I laughed during the game while I was mak- _
ing the bobbles, kicking ’em all around, I did not feel the
same way that night. I was the sorest person on earth, |
and never wanted to see a ball park again, but here I am
still at it, and I'll stick until they count ten on me.

“You talk about world’s series games being tough. Well,
I played in one game that was not a world’s championship —
contest, but one that I think was just as hard fought.

“It was a good many years ago when 1 was with Troy.

We had some of our men out, and Trenton won the pen- | ae
nant. The players of my team thought we could beat

 
   

 
  
   
 
 
   
    
     
    

them, and challenged them to one game, the winner of it to
be the pennant winner.

“The game was played in one of the big-league towns,
and they beat us again. We drew down about twenty-
seven dollars apiece for this game, but it was the hardest
one I ever was in.’

Although this Mowrey person is considerable of a third
sacker, he does not claim to be the best in the National
League. Instead, he takes off his hat to Bobby Byrne, of
the Pirates.

“To my way of thinking, Byrne is the best third base-
man in the National League,” says Mowrey. “He can do
everything, come in on bunts, go back to take throws, and
everything that goes with the job.”

Great Gas Well is Struck.

A 27,000,000-foot gas well, the greatest in years, has
been brought in south of Wann, Okla., on the Mary Brown
lease. The well has a rock pressure of 550 pounds.
The field is an old one, long ago drilled up, but all wells
were stopped at the 1,000-foot sand. This sand has played
out and the workers drilled on to the 1,300-foot sand.

Aged Man Bags Twenty-five Squirrels.

Moses Martin, 72 years old, of Grayville, Ill., who was
captain of Company C,Eighteenth Illinois Regiment, in the
Civil War, has been a guest of his nephew, C. M. Flan-
‘ nigan, at Cobden, Ill. He took out a hunting license, and
went gunning in the hills west of Alto Pass, Ill, returning
with twenty-five squirrels, one coon, and a hawk.

Elephant Bunts a Railroad Train. ye

Life along the Cape-to-Cairo Railway, which the British ~

are driving toward completion—a 6,000-mile job—is full of
real peril and excitement.
engineers, had some interesting tales to tell the other day.

“There was a stand-up fight once between a lion and
lioness and four native workmen armed with crowbars
and pick axes. Though all of them were badly mauled,
they managed to keep the brutes at bay until a party armed
with rifles arrived on the scene and shot both lions.

“At another time, a construction train was puffing along
with a heavy load of material, near Gwelo, when a full-
grown lion was sighted stretched right across the line and
basking peacefully in the sun. In reply to the whistle of
the engine, the brute looked up lazily, but did not attempt
to move. The efforts of the driver and the stoker to drive
him off the line by pelting him with billets of wood were
no better rewarded.

“The train was on the point of edd de to a standstill
when the lion lost his temper. He took a sudden spring at
the engine, seeking in vain for something on its smooth
surface into which he could drive his claws, and thus se-
cure a foothold.

“Again and again the beast sprang, falling clear of the
engine every time. The driver then realized that the best
thing to do was to go full steam ahead and trust to the
weight of the trucks behind him to keep the train on its
line and clear the lion from its path.
© “This was done, with the result that the lion—a magnifi-
cent specimen—was cut to pieces by the engine wheels.

“A Scotchman working on the line,” continued the en-
gineer, “was surprised one day to receive a letter from his
better half in Scotland saying she had made up her mind
to come out and join him, as he must be very lonely living

NEW TIP. TOP WEEKLY.

Percy V. Cooper, one of the

 

  

‘¢

among the blacks, and having no one to cook for him.”

In due course she arrived.
“Unfortunately the house,

structed to be built, was incomplete when the good woman =

which the engineer had in-_

came, Blankets were accordingly placed over the doorless ©
entrance and over the window opening, and the engineer —
and his wife retired to rest. In the dead of night they |
were awakened by the growls of lions, and it was clear |
that the brutes were prowling around the house in search ©
of prey.

“The two sat up in bed by the light of a candle, the man
holding his loaded rifle ready, and the woman sobbing with |
fear. The man would have gone out and driven the beasts -
off, but he had only two bullets left and had perforce to
remain inactive. But it was too much for the good
woman’s nerves, and next morning she took the train down ©
the line to Bulawayo and bought a cottage with strong —
doors and windows.”

“Elephants have given us a lot of trouble,” cide
Cooper, “by tearing up the roadbed, pulling down the tele-
graph wires, and upsetting the posts. Some little distance
north of the Victoria Falls a herd of elephants regularly _
crossed the railway, night and morning, to and = their
watering grounds.

“This went on for months until one day the i were.
in the act of making the passage when an express train _
came along. Seeing the elephants in front of him the ~
driver endeavored to frighten them off by opening his
valves, making as much noise as possible.
have the desired effect, and, after eying the locomotive
suspiciously for a few minutes, the bull decided to charge —
it. He came at full speed down the road, head lowered,
trumpeting viciously, looking the very picture of brute
force.

“The driver at once reserved speed, but the collision

»

came) and the shock was such that the engine was de- —

railed, though not overturned, and the elephant securely
pinned by one of its legs under the weight of the sigue

It was then quickly killed.” 3

‘Thunder Makes Boy Walk.

Thomas. William Brown,
sencery. store in Jamaica, L. I, is 4 years old, but up to -
a short time ago he could not walk.
Thomas William sat near the door, laughing and appar-~
ently enjoying the lightning. There came a flash which
seemed to strike close to the store. At the same moment
there was a deafening crash of thunder. It had scarcely -

subsided when Master Thomas William began skipping

about the store as freely as if he had known how, all his
life. The family physician could not account for the
miracle.

Says Heart Can Stop for Ten Minutes.
Surgical research has proved that operations in the

thoracic cavity can be performed as easily as in the abdo- ©
of the Rocke-

men, according to Doctor Alexis Carrel,

ae

It failed to

junior, whose father has a _

le

7

Mea ema

a oe

aa aces

 

“

 

feller Institute for Medical Research, New York.

ty

In the course of a lecture in France the Nobel Prize —

winner declared experiments on animals had demonstrated —
the heart to be an organ of very great resistance, and that
it does not suffer harm if the Ceca is interrupted
for five or even ten minutes.

The brain,
interrupted ae more than three or four minutes,

however, said Doctor Carvel’ may not bes
 
SOME OF THE
BACK A C K

NUMBERS OF

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664—Dick Merriwell’s Driving. ;
666—F rank Merriwell’s Theory.
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.
673—Dick Merriwell’s Flier.
674—F rank Merriwell’s Bullets.
675—Frank Merriwell’s Cut Off.
676—F rank Merriwell’s Ranch Boss.
677—Dick Merriwell’s Equal.
678—Dick Merriwell’s Development.
679—Dick Merriwell’s Eye.
680—F rank Merriwell's Zest.
681—Frank Merriwell’s Patience.
685—F rank Merriwell’s Fighters.
684—Dick Merriwell at the ‘‘Meet.’’
685—Dick Merriwell’s Protest.
686—Dick Merriwell in the Marathon.
687—Dick Merriwell’s Colors.
688—Dick Merriwell, Driver.
689—Dick Merriwell on the Deep
690—Dick Merriwell in the North Woods.
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—Frank Merriwell’s Lively Lads.
701—F rank Merriwell as Instructor.
70: 2—Dick Merriwell’s Cayuse.
703—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.
7O08—Dick Merriwell’s Gun.
7O9—Dick Merriwell at His Best.
710—Dick Merriwell’s Master Mind.
1—Dick Merriwell’s Dander.
—Dick Merriwell's Hope.
—Dick’s Merriwell’s Standard.
—Dick Merriwell’s Sympathy.
—Dick Merriwell in Lumber Land.
—Frank Merriwell’s Fairness. °
—Frank Merriwell’s Pledge.
—Frank Merriwell, the Man of Grit.
i—F rank Merriwell’s Return Blow.
J—F rank Merriwell’s Quest.
—Frank Merriwell’s Ingots.
2—Fi rank Merriwell's Assistance.
—Frank Merriwell at the Throttle.
—Frank Merriwell, the Always Ready.
25—Frank Merriwell in Diamond Land.
2¢ IF rank Merriwell’s Desperate Chance,
27 ‘rank Merriwell'’s Black Terror.
38 Frogk Merriwell Again on the Slab.
29—F rank Merriwell’s Hard Game.
30—Frank Merriwell’s Six-in-hand,
31—Frank Merriwell’s Duplicate.
32—Frank Merriwell on Rattlesnake
Ranch.
33—Frank Merriwell's Sure Hane.
34—F rank Merriwell’s Treasure Map.
—Frank Merriwell, Prince of the Rope.
36—Dick Merriwell, Captain of the Vare
sity.
37—Dick Merriwell’s Control.
38—Dick Merriwell’s Back Stop.
39—Dick Merriwell’'s Masked Enemy,
0—Dick Merriwell’s Motor Car.
1—Dick Merriwell’s Hot Pursuit.
2— Dick Merriwell at Forest Lake.
3—Dick Merriwell in C ourt.
44 —Dick Merriwell’s Silence.
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45—Dick Merriwell’s Dog.
46—Dick Merriwell’s Subter fuge.
47—Dick Merriwell’s E nigma.
48—Dick Merriwell Defeated.
i—Dick Merriwell’s ‘‘Wing.”’
)—Dick Merriwell’s Sky Chase.

eptad— Jat ededa ten ete

mA

PRICE, FIVE CENTS PER COPY.

news dealer, they can be obtained direct from this offlce.

51—Dick Merriwell’s Pick-ups.
92—Dic k Merriwell on the Rocking R.
3—Dick Merriwell’s Penetration.
54—Dick Merriwell's Intuition.
55—Dick Merriwell’s Vantage.
56—Dick Merriwell’s Advice.
57—Dick Merriwell's Rescue.
58—Dick 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—Frank Merriwell’s Sway.
765—Frank Merriwell’s Comprehension.
766—Frank Merriwell’s Young Acrobat.
767—F rank Merriwell’s Tact.
768—F rank Merriwell’s Unknown.
769—F rank Merriwell’s Acuteness.
770—F rank Merriwell’s Young Canadian.
1—F rank Merriwell’s Coward.
2—Frank Merriwell’s Perplexity.
3—Frank Merriwell's Intervention.
(/4—-F'rank Merriwell’s Daring Deed.
5—Frank Merriwell’s Succor.
6—Frank Merriwell’s Wit.
7—Frank Merriwell’s Loyalty.
8—Frank Merriwell’s Bold Play.
9—Frank Merriwell’s Insight.
;O—F rank Merriwell’s Guile.
81— Frank Merriwell’s Campaign.
s32—I'rank Merriwell in the
Forest.
88—Frank Merriwell’s Tenacity.
84—Dick Merriwell’s Self-sacrifice.

85 )—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 Mer bie 1l’s Queer Case.
792—Dick Me rriwell, 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 Decision.
799—Dick Merriwell on the Great Lakes.
800—Dick Merriwell Caught Napping.
801—Dick Merriwell in the Copper Coun-

try.
802—Dick Merriwell Strapped.
803—Dick Merriwell’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—F rank Merriwell’s Boy.
809—Frank Merriwell’s Interference.
810—F rank Merriwell’s Young Warriors.
811—Frank Merriwell’s Appraisal.
812—Frank Merriwell’s Forgiveness.
813—Frank Merriwell’s Lads.
814—Frank Merriwell’s Young Aviators.
815—F rank Merriwell’s Hot-head.
816—Dick Merriwell, Pancat.
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.
830—Dick Merriwell’s Warning.
831—Dick Merriwell’s Counsel.
832—Dick Merriwell’s Champions.
8338—Dick Merriwell’s Marksmen.
834—Dick Merriwell’s Enthusiasm.

National

—Dick Merriwell’s Solution.
i—Dick Merriwell’s Foreign Foe.
—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.
845—Dick Merriwell’s Heroic Crew.
846—Dick Merriwell Looks Ahead.
847—Dick Merriwell at the Olympics.
848—Dick Merriwell in Stockholm.
849—Dick Merriwell in the
Stadium.
850—Dick Merriwell’s Marathon.

Carlisle

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NEW SERIES

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1-—Frank Merriwell, Jr.
2—lIrank Merriwell, Jr., in the Box.
8—Frank Merriwell, Jr.'s, Struggle.
4—Frank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Skill.
5—F rank Merriwell, Jr., in Idaho.
6—F rank Merriwell, Jr.'s, Close Shave,
J—FT ra ae Merriwell, Jr., on Waiting Or-
ders.
8—Frank Merriwell, Jr.’s, arte i
9—Frank Merriwell, Jt.’s, Relay
. thon.
10—Frank Merriwell, the Bar Z
Ranch.
—Frank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Golden Trail.
—Frank Merriwell, ae. Competitor.
Frank Merriwell, . Jr.'s, Guidance.
—T rank Merriwell, 7 r.’s, Scrimmage.
5 rank Merriwell, Jrv., Misjudged.
—Frank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Star Play.
RE Moped Merriwell, Jv.’s, Blind Chase,
18—Peank Merriwell, Jr.'s, Discretion.
19—F rank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Substitute,
20—F rank Merriwell, Jr., Justified.
21—Frank Merriwell, Jr., Incog.
22—F rank Merriwell, Jr., Meets the Issue,
23—F rank Merriwell, Jr.'s, Xmas Eve,
24—Frank Merriwell, on Fearless Risk.
25—F rank Merriwell, Jr., on Skis.
26—F rank Merriwell, Tr % oe -boat
27—Frank Merriwell, Jr.’
Foes.
28—Frank Merriwell, Jr., and the Totem.
29—F rank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Hockey Game.
80—Frank Merriwell, Jr.'s, Clew.
31—F rank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Adversary.
82—Frank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Timely Aid.
-Frank Merriwell, Jr., in the Desert.
—Frank Merriwell, J r.’S, Grueling Test,
-Frank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Special Mission
—Frank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Red Bowman.
37—F rank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Task.
38- cea ee Merriwell, Tris Cross-Country
face,
89—Frank Merriwell, Jr.’
40—F rank Merriwell, Jr.’
—lFrank Merriwell, J I.
2B ‘ank Merriwell, oh
ra ‘rank Merriwell,

Mara-

Jr.,. at

Chase,
Ambushed

s, Four Miles,

s, Umpire.

Sidetracked.

’S, Teamwork,

Tr.’s, Step-Over.

‘rank Merriwell, Ir. in Monterey.
_ = ‘ank Merriwell, Jr.'s, Athletes.

46—Frank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Outfielder.

tT Frank Merriwell, Jr.’s, “Hundred.”

48—F rank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Hobo Twirler.

49—Frank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Canceled Game,

oe ee Merriwell, Jr.’s, Weird Adven-
ure.

51—Frank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Double Header.

52— ce Merriwell, Jr.’s, Peek of Trou-
J22,

53—Frank Merriwell, Jr.,
Doctor.

54—F rank Merriwell, Jr.’s,

and the Spook

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