AWN HA H i| Ht} mi WH Sa toa Sem Bet gerseee hace poids > 1914 of the Mad Trooper PUBLISHERS ie : lyster STREET 8 SMITH CTOBER IZ Oo or The M a. | fet acs =. a) o ‘ | |= 1 iw So a es ~ > Se An Ideal Publication For The American Youth Issued Weekly. Entered as Second-class Matter at the New York . Post Office, according to an act of Congress, March 3, 1819. Published by Copyright, 1914, 6y STREET & SMITH. STREET & SMITH, 79-89 Seventh Ave., New York, O. G. Smith and G. C. Smith, Proprietors. Terms to NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY Mail Subscribers, (Postage Free.) Single Copies or Back Numbers, 5c. Each. How to Send Money—By post-office or express money order, regis- tered letter, bank check or draft, at our risk. At your own risk if sent by currency, coin, or postage stamps in ordinary letter. 3 MONEHS,...00. erecrescceceess GSC, ONG YOAT cecdeceee Ke Kertbwcabevs $2.50 Receipts—Receipt of your remittance is acknowledged by proper 4 months...... © sceee phasdéerte 85c. 2 copies ONG Year ..ssseeeseese-» 4.00 change of number on your label. If not correct you have not been BANU tease 550 0ss'ececccaes $1.25 1 copy two years,.......+--...++ 4.00 properly credited, and should let us know at once. No. 116. NEW YORK, October 17, 1914. Price Five Cents. Frank Merriwell, Junior’s, Hunting Trip; Or, THE MYSTERY OF THE MAD TROOPER. By BURT L. STANDISH. CHAPTER I. THE WARNING. Even in these up-to-date days of wireless and swift communication of various kinds, it seemed uncanny to Chip Merriwell and Doc Fisher when the white wall of their tent, that was pitched far up in the mountainous region of northern New Mexico, began to flicker and flash with the dots and dashes of the Morse alphabet. “T guess I’ve got ’em again,” said Fisher, pulling his big ‘glasses well down on his nose and staring at the flickering light. Chip stared also, both having their backs against a rock, _ Sitting in the warm October sunshine, a few yards from their tent. “Who is giving us the moving-picture show?” said Chip, rising and looking round. . --., “There it goes again—same thing tight over; hold your canvas met their gaze. breath, Chip, while I try to read it. Somebody’s signaling to us in Morse.” “Who can it be?” Chip gasped, having seen no one. ' _ “There’s no one near us here—can’t be.” “Sh!, That’s what you think. Keep still now—don’t talk to the motorman,” The flashes were appearing again on the tent wall. “IT got it that time—the wireless call: S O S.” The flashing light winked out, and only the blank white They sat watching the canvas. To a certain extent, Fisher was an expert, having done experimenting with wireless telegraphy while he was in school; many of the boys at the school had been in it, with a big amateur outfit, that thrust up its antenne from the top, of one of the school buildings. “There it is again,” said Fisher; “hold your breath now. This starts different. It’s a message.” Slowly and carefully the winking light spelled the words out on the white wall: “Warning. A trooper who has gofie crazy has disap- peared from our camp. Look out for him.” Three times the letters of this.warning message flashed against the white tent wall, as if the sender wanted to make sure that the tent occupants got it. ; “That sure pulls the beard of my billy goat,” said Chip. “IT wonder where this soldier camp is? Perhaps we can figure it out, eh, Fisher? It can’t be far, or they couldn’t send that, or know where we are.” When they arose to look about them, their astonishment was even greater than when the Morse letters, written by a finger of fire, began to jump on the canvas. Perched on top of the rock against which they had been sitting, was a khaki-clad figure looking down at them. “The crazy trooper!” said Fisher, under his breath. “He could have shot us dead easy if he wanted to.” “He hasn’t any weapons that I can see,” said Chip. The man on top of the rock waved his hand and grinned. ; “Hello!” he said. “Glad to see you,” said Fisher, a bit nervously. “What’s our best play, if he makes at us?” he whis- pered to Chip. “Keep out of his way. If he isn’t armed, he can’t hurt us, unless he catches us.” It was noticeable that when peril or difficulty of any kind arose, Chip, who was much younger, came naturally — to the front as leader, cool-headed, calm-eyed, quick to size up a situation and see what was the best thing to do. The man in khaki was talking. “I saw that light on your tent,” he said. stood it?” “It was a heliograph message,” said Fisher cautiously ; “but we don’t know where it came from.” “You under- SA SRE ETS er ELE OO PE ee again, and ten sheep lay dead. della Aan alle cheba tae i NEW har “What did it say?” “Tt was in Morse.” Fisher shrugged—a Mexicans. “You saw it!” he said.. “Perhaps you can tell us.” He looked straight at the man, studying him; then asked, to shunt him on a new track: “Is there a camp of troopers near here?” “I don’t know. What makes you think it?” “Those flashes on the tent. They were sent by a helio- graph. You know what that is! It’s an instrument for signaling with mirrors, or sending Morse messages by mirror flashes. I should say the camp is over that way,” he added, flinging out his hand. “It seems to me it would have to be to enable them to strike the tent wall so habit he had caught from the straight. And it must be on a hill—that is, the helio- graph must be on a hill; otherwise the sender couldn’t see our tent.” Fisher made this long speech for the purpose of fixing the attention of the man on the rock; and, as well as he could, he looked into the eyes of the man.. Fisher’s medi- cal instincts were aroused, as well as his curiosity. A man who was insane, yet seemed not to be, was worthy of Fisher’s study. “It’s queer you haven’t seen the camp of those troopers,” said -Chip. “Any more than that you haven’t?” the man countered. “But if they’re over that way, they must have moved in recently, for I was out in that direction a week ago.” ‘“You live here?” said Chip, with a gasp, seeing clear evi- dence of insanity in the man’s statement. “Where do you think I live—in the moon? I’ve got a sheep ranch over in that valley. I noticed your tent this morning, so thought I’d step over. You must have come here yesterday.” ““Yes, out from Santa Fe,” Chip informed him, while Fisher stood studying their visitor; “we came up here for a little hunting trip. We've been working right along— except when we weren’t playing,” he added humorously; “so we're having this outing and hunting trip up in these hills. We've got riding animals and burros for pack ani- mals down in this valley—grazing down there. There are game animals round here, and, perhaps, something more. Fisher, my friend, here, is at present my tutor; so you see we're combining business with pleasure. If we don’t get to hunt anything, we’ll have the outing. Fine air up here,” he added, «still! holding the man’s attention. “Well, now. that hits me,” the man declared; 4 fellows want some hunting, I can pilot you to it.” “Near here?” said Chip. “Over where I live. Mountain tions have been raiding my sheep. I’ve tried to get at ’em, but it takes time and work; and while I’m out looking for them with my dogs, they're sneaking back on my sheep. Two days ago I tried to run down one that had raided; when I got back, having done nothing, I found they’d been in my flocks I’m not going to be able to stand that sort of a fight for long; they’ve goi me going already.” “He’s not crazy, apparently,” Chip was thinking : if. you “yet he is, all the same; for a trooper can’t have sheep herds out.here. Crazy as a hatter!” He turned to Fisher. jt What do you say?” he asked, knowing that to Fisher TAIY OVERS, his words would have one meaning and to the man another. Fisher, absorbed in a puzzling study of their visitor, came, as with a jump, out of it. “I don’t know what to say,” voice. “Shall we go with him and get a whack at those. moun- tain lions?” “Y-yes; sure,” said Fisher, bewildered. Then he spoke to the man: “You wouldn’t want to act as our guide in a little jaunt in the direction that troopers’ camp is probably located ?” he admitted, dropping his “Haven't time for that, for those lions may be back at: my sheep. I was almost afraid to leave and come over here; but the sight of your tent excited my interest. You see, seeing anybody in this forsaken country is such an event that I couldn’t afford not to come over. How long you going to stay here?” “That isn’t settled,’ Chip answered ; “but we think a week or so; perhaps longer.” “Of course, if you’re hunting, you’ve got some good rifles? Shotguns, even with buckshot shells, wouldn’t amount to much against lions. I’ve an army Krag, but I need that myself.” GS “We've got Remington said Chip. “Mushroom bullets?” “Well, we can make them into mushroom bullets if we need to; just take a knife and cut cross-shaped nicks in the noses of the bullets. If they strike, the holes where they enter will be the‘size of bullets, and where they come out will be as big as plates.” The. man in khaki smiled. “Up to. snuff, aren’t you? repeaters—forty-five-seventy,” That’s some trick, but I’ve done it myself. You wouldn’t mind letting me see those rifles ?” Here was a quandary, What if the man seized the rifles and made off with them? “How long have you been running sheep here?” Chip asked, to evade an answer and get the man’s mind in another course. “All summer; started in last spring. I was made to believe there was money in it. There was for the man who sold out to me. If I can’t stop those lions, I'll be bankrupt when I get through, and I’ll be locoed, too. I thought I had a touch of it last week. The business gets on a man’s nerves after a while.” The face of the man in khaki took a strange appear- ance; his eyes seemed to glazé suddenly and take a far- off look. “All at once,” he remarked slowly, “I thought the water was gone. It has been low, and for some weeks has been failing. I’ve wakened in the night, dreaming that it was all gone, and that the sheep were dying of thirst. But this—this was in the daytime. of a hill, like a little speck of blue, and I was starting toward it, with my throat choking, for I thought I was my- self dying of thirst. ley. The water hole was there, and the sheep were there, and—nothing had happened. Nothing but me—something © in my head. It’s the curse of: herders, and the cguse is the loneliness and the everlasting baa-aaing of the sheep. You don’t know how that rasps after - while I thought it was gone; and then I saw it, my water hole, far off on the side And I—~” he passed a hand waver- Ca ingly across his face—“I came to myself out in the val- athe ¥ ¥ the pu sot the in | unc hirr trox ae ee ee oe eS S _himsélf: “Is he crazy or is he sane? just ‘Baa-aa! baa-aa! baa-aa!’ It follows you all day, and then it gets to following you all night; then you begin to imagine things and see things, and after a while—well, you’re locoed.” Doc Fisher’s interest was so aroused that he forgot the questions which were pressing for answers. “Loco?” he said; “that’s Spanish for crazy!” “You never saw a steer that was locoed?” “T never did, but I should like to. As a matter of inter- est, and for study, you know.” The man in khaki gave him a queer stare. “That’s odd,” he said. “My friend is called Doc Fisher because he’s a medical student,” Chip stated; “which will explain to you why he thinks that would be interesting. It appeals to his medi- cal side, and that’s his principal side, believe me.” As bewildered and interested as Fisher, Chip was help- ing to keep the talk going, and trying, like Fisher, to de- termine the character of the man and the question of his sanity. At one moment Chip was sure the man was as sane as himself or Fisher; the next instant he was sure the man was stark mad. What the man had now said about loco was enough to set any one going, it seemed to Chip. “There’s a loco weed,” pened to see it.” said Fisher, “but I never hap- “It’s here on the range, and abundant in many places in the West. I’ve seen lots of it, and grubbed out all I could. It’s a grayish-green or sage-colored weed, and has a narcotic or poisonous principle. When a steer, or other animal gets to eating it the result is bad, usually fatal in the end. They only start eating it when other food is scarce, but once they get addicted to it, they will hardly eat anything else. By and by they get thin, and then seem to lose their minds. They'll stand and stare at nothing, will be frightened by nothing. They stagger round hunting for loco, make it their sole diet, and finally die. “When a man is locoed—say, a sheep herder—it’s not because he eats the loco weed; it simply means that he goes crazy through loneliness, and because he never sees anything but his dogs and his sheep for weeks and months on end. The chances are that his finish will be about the same as the locoed steer. He'll go wandering off in pursuit of something he fancies he sees, and months after, somewhere in the desert or mountains, some one will find the bleaching bones of his skeleton.” The man in khaki shivered, and the far-away look was in his eyes again. “Br-r-r-r! I had a touch of it last week. So you can understand how glad I was to see your tent here.” Fisher’s thoughts were perplexed, and he was asking Is he the crazy trooper, or is he what he says he is? I’m stuck!” Aloud he said, to shunt the man’s thoughts again: “Where are your dogs?” “With the sheep.” “They'll herd them without you?” “Yes. But the dog I lost last week was as good as a _ man; the best sheep dog I ever saw.” “You lost him?” _A suspicion of moisture came into the man’s eyes. “IT poisoned him!” “You poisoned your best dog?” “Not by intention. I put out the poison for those moun- tain lions; and this dog escaped in the night, after I had NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY. ? | 3 shut them up, and he got at the poisoned meat. In the morning he was dead. So I’m hampered. I’m afraid to set out poison again. Besides, I’ve thrown it all away.” “Why did you do that?” said Fisher. “Why, I got scared—I got afraid that I’d take it my- self; I told you that I had a*touch of loco last week.” CHAPTER II. NEWS FROM SANTA FE, The talk with the man in khaki was interrupted by a fluttering roar like that of an automobile with the muffler cut out. The man jumped as if he had been shot at, showing plainly that his nerves were in rags. His eyes were big and staring. “Have I got ’em again?” he whispered, and stared all round. “That sounds like an automobile, over in that valley.” “Then I do hear something?” said the man, with relief. “Sure,” said Chip. “I’m going to climb up for a look.” He sprang upon the rock and began to climb, but took care to keep away from the suspected man. Fisher stepped round to the door of the tent. It was merely a precau- tionary measure. The rifles were in there. “Wow!” he heard Chip yell. “Fisher, it’s—it’s an aéro- plane !” ; ” said Chip. “It must be The man in khaki sprang up and hurried to Chip’s side. Looking in the direction that Chip was pointing, Fisher saw the flying machine high over the valley, approaching. The roar of its motor sounded louder—a strange sound in that mountainous desolation. There was no doubt that they were seeing and hearing an aéroplane. Turning from the object in the sky, Fisher looked at the man standing now beside Chip. If Chip felt fear on that account he was not showing it. However, that was like Chip; so Fisher did not know. Doc Fisher was anxious. He was still uncertain whether the man was insane or not or whether his story was true or imagined. As a precautionary measure, he stepped into the tent, and came out with one of the Remingtons in his hands. If the man attacked Chip, Fisher meant to slam a bullet into him. The aéroplane came on steadily and with an increas- ing roar. When the aviator beheld the white tent, he vol- planed and came down to within two or three hundred feet of the earth. He made another drop as he came close to the tent, and it was seen that he would either make a landing or drive by not far overhead. The flying machine, of the biplane type, that at first.had looked small, was now seen to be very large. It must have had strong lifting power, yet it carried only one man, and, apparently, nothing else. But when it was close at hand, and would soon be over them, they observed the man stooping and fumbling, and discovered that by him was a bag of some kind. He sat up and hurled something at them as he dnioe by, no more than a hundred feet over their heads. They saw that he was in khaki, like the man who had visited them, though his khaki clothing looked neat and clean, and that of the man who claimed to be a sheep-herder was more or less soiled. The object he had thrown came fluttering and hurtling ‘ \ down upon them, as the biplane swept on, its motor ham- mering deafeningly over their heads. So true had been the man’s aim that the thing he had hurled at the tent struck in the sand in front of it. Fisher, who had dodged back, fearing it would strike him, jumped out and picked it up. Chip and the man in khaki came scrambling off the rock, to see what it was Fisher had secured. The biplane drove on over the hill, the roar of its motor decreasing, and it was soon lost to view behind the crest. “A newspaper” said Fisher, “weighted to bring it down, and something pinned to it. It looks like a letter.” Though excited, he had not lost all caution, and re- treated so that he. stood in the tent opening, with his Remington in easy reach of his hand. Chip and the man came up, running, Chip in the lead. Chip had glanced round, showing that he was still cautious. “A newspaper!” the man cried. “I haven’t seen one for months.” “A Santa Fe newspaper,” said Fisher, stripping off the string with his knife; “yesterday’s newspaper. How’s that? All the news of the world laid at the door of our tent. We'll have to continue this aérial mail service, Chip.” Chip Merriwell saw that on the envelope pinned to the newspaper wrapper was his name, and snatched the letter, “From Uncle Dick!” he cried, noting the handwriting. “Fisher, this is great—-a letter from Uncle Dick. The aéroplane is from the army post, there, as I .thought it must be, Shows he knew it was coming here, or near here, and got the fellow to bring this letter.” “And this newspaper,” said Fisher, opening it and glanc- ing at the columns. “Say, Chip—listen to this!” He read: “Word from the troopers in camp in the Humbres was brought in yesterday by one of the carrier pigeons they took with them. It came into its loft here at three o’clock in the afternoon. The troopers are established in a good camp in the Humbres foothills, They are wishing they could open communication with a wireless at the post here, But they will make use of their aéroplanes, and now and then release a pigeon.” The man in khaki had come up and read this with Fisher, looking over Fisher’s shoulder. Chip opened his letter and was reading it. “Nothing important here, Fisher,” he said, “except a friendly word from Uncle Dick. Everything in Santa Fe is just as when we left. He’s hoping we'll have a good time. He wrote the letter to send out by the aéroplane from the post, which he discovered was coming out to- day to the troopers’ camp, hoping the letter could be delivered to us.” “That man bird took a chance, chucking it down here,” said Fisher. “How did he know we were the fellows the _ things were intended for?” “T guess he knew he couldn’t go wrong. I suppose, ‘Fisher, our tent is about the only one in these moun- tains, outside of the troopers’ camp. I wish the paper had located those troopers a bit more closely. The foothills in the Humbres is some country for size, let me tell you. Still, the camp is bound to be near; and maybe that aéro- plane will come back and give us a visit.” The eyes of the man-in khaki were shining strangely. “Will you let me look over that paper, when you're through with it?” he said. “I see there’s something about a war.” NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY. “What, that European war news hasn’t reached you?” “Out here? Nothing reaches any one out here; a man might as well be dead as to be out here.” Taking the paper which Fisher surrendered to him, he sat down by the rock and buried his nose in its pages, soon becoming so absorbed that he gave the young fellows no attention, “What’s your idea?” said Fisher, nodding toward the man, as Chip came up to the tent entrance. “If he is the trooper we were warned against, he’s crazy.” “And if he isn’t the trooper?” “Then his story is probably all right.” “He’s wearing army khaki, but there is no insignia on it,” said Fisher; “however, he said his rifle was an army Krag, and he admitted that last week he had a touch of loco. I haven’t seen any signs of a sheep ranch round here. If it was a real case of herder’s loco, I'd like to study it.” Chip was looking off in the direction taken by the aéroplane. ; “I think that’s the direction that heliograph signaling came from,” he said, without further answering Fisher, “And there is a peak off there from which the signals could have been sent. The camp is at the base of that peak, I imagine. What do you say if we go over there? The troopers would make us welcome. It’s queer that they located us, when we knew nothing about them.” ‘Tt’s the business of soldiers to know what is in their neighborhood. They may have had us spotted ever since we came here. Wonder where their other heliograph sta- tion is? They had the light just right focused on us, and used the wall of our tent for a receiving station, which explains that part of it: They must have been anxious and in a hurry, and worried about us on account of the escape of that madman. He would be an interest- ing medical case, Chip. I never saw a real crazy man at close quarters.” “Except in Oklahoma,” Chip reminded. “That half-breed? I didn’t have any chance to study him, What do you say to the notion of trying to make our way to that camp of troopers ?” The presence of the troopers brought up many sugges- tions and memories. They knew that ever since the break- ing out of the European war the troopers at the Santa Fe army post had been unusually interested in signaling and in army aéroplanes. An aéroplane, no doubt the one that had now yisited them, had been seen almost daily soaring over Santa Fe, so that it had become a common sight, eliciting little attention from the people. They had known that.the troopers had been experiment- ing with heliograph, or sunlight, telegraphy, and that they, 4g had a loft of carrier pigeons. Also, that they had made a good deal of practice use of field telegraphs and. field telephones, transporting the wires and apparatus about o muleback. Whenever a war breaks out, renewed interest and activity is observable in army circles the world over, and it had been the case here, with much activity during the past — two months. Chip and Fisher talked of this, with side glances at the man in khaki as he sat bending over the newspaper, which, if his story was true, had’ brought him the first news he had received from the outside world for many, weeks. |e S; 'S Le “A tough life, a sheep-herder’s, if what he says is so,” Chip commented. “A tough life, whatever he says. A sure-enough case of sheep-herder’s loco would be an interesting thing to studgy’ “If the locoed herder didn’t kill you, perhaps. But you've got enough to do, Fisher. By the time you've satisfied my intellectual hunger, as tutor, and we have had our camping fun and our hunting fun, there isn’t going to be any core left.” “But loco insanity is a rare thing—rare in the land we come from; never known there, in fact, so that this may be the chance of a lifetime. You get my viewpoint, Chip.” “Well, study that man. Is he crazy?” “J don’t know,” Fisher confessed. “When he has’ swal- lowed that paper, I’m going to ask him to guide us to his sheep ranch, or over into the country where the troopers are probably located.” CHAPTER III, QUEER HAPPENINGS. On looking at the khaki-clad man again, Fisher ob- served that he had dropped the newspaper to his knees and sat staring, with a blind expression, straight before him. “Overwhelmed by the news of the world, of which he had known nothing for so long a time. That staring look! I believe he would jump up and run if any one spoke to him suddenly. He’s sure been eating the loco weed.” A motion of Fisher’s hand kept Chip still. Standing in the tent entrance, Fisher studied the man closely, deeply interested and inquiring. “We'll have him guide us somewhere, Chip,” he whis- pered; “either to the sheep camp he says he has or to the troopers’ camp from which he may have come. We'll keep him in sight. The loco plant is sure growing rank in his belfry, whether he’s trooper or sheep-herder, and I’ve got to study it; too good an opportunity to miss, Chip.” The whispered words brought the man out of his daze or his dreaming~—whatever it was; he looked up with a start, as if for an instant he did not know where he was; and the newspaper slid from his knees. “T’ye got to go,” he said, rising. ‘He passed his hand across his eyes and looked about. “I’ve stayed too long,” he declared, as if apologizing to some one; “so I must go at once.” “But see here,” said Chip; “you spoke of taking us over to your sheep camp, you know; you said you'd be glad to'have us make a try at the big cats that are raiding your sheep. What about that?” “Sure!” cried Fisher, grasping at anything which prom- ised to keep the man with them for study purposes. “We've been hoping we could come across some mountain lions, or bears. We're ready to go along with you.” An inexplicable look flicked across the man’s face. “T can’t do it this time,” he declared; “I’ve got to hustle right back; those lions may have been raiding while I’m here! I’ve stayed too long.” “But we can keep up with you, ” Chip urged. “We can _ get our horses, and——” be? “And I might lose twenty sheep while waiting for you. No, I’ve got to go. I'll see you again to-morrow. That will be time enough, if the lions raid me again to-night, _ or have been at the sheep in my absence.” NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY. “T wish you'd let us go along,” Fisher begged. “We'll get those lions for you, or make a big try for it.” “For that’s what we’ve been hoping to see—big game, of the fighting kind,” Chip added, “To-morrow,” said the man. He began to walk away hurriedly. In a minute he was beyond the rock, going across the face of the hill. The next minute he was running. “Now, whadda yeh know about that?” said Fisher. “He’s crazy!” “Say, he has eaten a bale of that loco weed. But I’m going to follow him. Think I’m going to let a loco patient slip through my fingers in that way? I guess not.” Picking up his rifle, Doc Fisher started in pursuit of the man; and Chip, arming himself in the same way, followed Fisher. “There’s no danger of any one raiding our camp, | s’pose?” Fisher flung back at him. “Oh, sure not! Come along, Chip; that fellow is hustling.” The quick way in which Doc Fisher scrambled across the hill in pursuit of his’singular “patient” spoke volumes for the improvement in his physical condition; for Fisher had come to the Southwest four or five months before with, as he put it, “his lungs shot full of holes”; and now he could pull off a pace like this. His muscles had filled and rounded, his face had a fine color, that was not all. due to sunburn; even his nearsighted eyes had so im- proved and strengthened that sometimes he laughingly talked of throwing away his big glasses. It was really a remarkable transformation. The man they were trying to keep in sight had already gained a good lead. He had been running, but was going more slowly now, and they could see his head bobbing along a goodly distance in advance. “Tf we can keep him in sight,” said Fisher. “You swing into the lead, Chip, and set the pace; I’ll try to keep up with you.” “He’s sure endeavoring to give us the slip,” Chip de- clared, as he leaped to the front. “Oh, he’s the crazy trooper, all right!” said Fisher. “He hasn’t a sheep ranch out here any more than I have.” “If we can’t hold him in sight,” said Chip, “we can perhaps get a line on the course he takes; after that we can hunt up the troopers’ camp and report there that we’ve met him; then they can strike his trail here and find where he has gone. Eh, Fisher?” “Don’t waste your breath,” said Fisher; “I’m trying to save mine. What do you say if we sprint a fittie, and so pull up on him closer?” They rushed across the hill at a fine clip, with Chip as pacemaker. But the man soon dodged out of sight, and when they got over the ridge and were on the other side they looked about for him in vain. “Now you see it, and now you don’t,” said Chip, star- ing about. “Dropped into,a hole, or climbed a tree? But I Abs see any hole, and there isn’t a tree big enough to climb.” “Plenty of scrub and bushes for him to hide in, though,” Chip commented. “This gets my goat!” “Pulls the whiskers of ok uncle, too, ” is buggy bughouse.” “We know the direction he was going,’ Chip ‘urged, and started on again. They continued down the hill, looking to the right and said Fisher. s “Well, whadda yeh know about this? This patient of mine Ag SRS STS left as well as ahead, and went on in this way for more than half a mile. 3 “It would have been better if we’d climbed to the higher parts of the hill,” said Chip; “we might have seen him then, He’s given us the slip.” “Real old slippery elm,” said Fisher, dropping down for a: Test, He was breathing heavily; more so than Chip, whose lungs were of tough fiber. . Chip could have kept on running, but he dropped down by Fisher. “The crazy trooper, all right,” declared Fisher, his chest heaving. “Say, that’s too bad; I wanted to study him!” “T don’t know but I’m just as well pleased to drop him. There’s no telling what a crazy man will do. Do you suppose there’s any chance that if we climbed to the top of this highest hill we could see that camp of the troopers? If we found them, we cotild tell them we had seen the man they warned us about.” When they had rested, they began, to climb the hill, stopping now and then for a look over the lower ground, hoping to see there the man who had left them so unaccountably. From the crest of the high hill they had a good view of the surrounding country. ; “T wish we’d brought the field glasses from the tent,” Fisher remarked, as they looked about over .a region that was covered with much scrubby timber growth, with deep hollows visible in it and a jumble of hills and peaks. They saw that a dozen camps of troopers might be hid- den away anywhere within a mile or two of them and they could remain unaware of it. Searching the tops of the hills as well as they could, they looked for the location of the heliograph station, but failed to find it. Sitting down again, they talked over the situation, and got nowhere. Then they decidéd to descend and return to their camp. The tent looked good to them when they came in sight of it. For the time it was their home, holding their supplies, and over beyond, in the little valley, their ani- mals were grazing. However, as soon as they entered the tent they saw that in their absence it had been invaded. A small bag of flour was gone and some of their potatoes and a package of coffee, all that a man could carry off handily. It was a stinging and unpleasant surprise, bringing bewilderment and something of fright, as they were absolutely dependent on their supplies. They looked for tracks out in front of the tent, but they had scraped up and trodden the ground there so effectively themselves that they could hope to discover nothing. “That pulls my billy-goat whiskers out by the roots,” said Fisher, fazed by this suggestion of calamity, “Did that fellow double back on us and do this, and was he keen enough to plan to trick us in that way? Sure - looks it.” When they had hunted round and were none the wiser, Chip picked up the Santa Fe paper that had been left lying by the tent. “L didn’t get to look through this,” he said; “good thing the wind didn’t blow it away.” He began to glance it over, striving for calmness. It did no good to be stampeded. “Did you look it all through, Fisher ?” NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY. “Just skimmed it a little,” said Fisher, as he climbed the rock for a better view. Chip was not really interested in the Santa Fe paper, for he could think only of the man in khaki, and the loss of some of their supplies. If more of their supplies went in that way they would have to hit the back trail for Santa Fe before their hunting vacation was fairly begun. “See here, Fisher,” he yelled, a minute later; “you're on the famous list, I see!” He read aloud, for the benefit of his friend: “During his camping trip with Chip Merriwell in the Humbres, Doc Fisher hopes to be able to make a study of some of the old cliff dwellings up there. If any one can dig information out of those dust heaps of the past, we should say it is Fisher.’” “How’s that?” said Chip. “I found it under the heading of City Chatter. That ought to swell you all out with pride, Fisher. Nothing about poor little Chip, except that measly mention.” A little later he yelled again: “Listen to this. That fellow must have read it, and probably that is what made him clear out so suddenly: ““Among the items of news brought in by the carrier pigeon from the troopers in the Humbres is that Private Sim Tanner has gone suddenly insane and left the camp. He showed a homicidal tendency, and attacked the corporal with a knife. broke away and escaped, and is now out in the hills, unless he has been captured since. It is feared he may attack some of the sheep-hérders, of whom there are a few up there, or may make trouble: for Chip Merriwell and Doc Fisher, whose camp is said to be not far from that of the troopers. Tanner is a large and powerful man, and in his present condition is likely to be a dangerous. one, particularly if he is armed; the report seems to indicate that he is; he had a knife, certainly, and perhaps his rifle when he fled from the camp. A report of his capture is awaited anxiously.’” Fisher hopped down from the rock and came over to look at the statement in the paper. “Your Uncle Dick didn’t mention that in his letter,” he said. “He may not have heard of it when he was writing the letter. I judge, by his silence on the subject, that he didn’t see the aéronaut himself, but sent the letter to him. If he had known about it, he certainly would have men- tioned it.” They looked the paper over, hunting for other items of personal interest, but found none. | “That seems to settle it,” said Chip; “our man in khaki was Tanner. I don’t know but we’ve had a lucky escape. It was a queer yarn he strung about his sheep ranch and his locoed head, but it only goes to show how crazy he is. I guess you’d have studied him at your peril, Fisher.” “Right-o,” said. Fisher ; “still, I wish I could have studied him. He is cunning; insane people cften are. As you say, he read that item, and it frightened him; made him think the troopers were close on his heels. That is why he jumped up so suddenly and said he’d have to go, and didn’t want us to go with him.” Fisher read the news story over carefully. “He knew we had food supplies, of course. Perhaps he saw them through the tent door, stacked up ‘back in there. He wasn’t so crazy that he didn’t know he couldn’t live. without food, so when he had thrown us off his trail, and _ When the troopers tried to take him, he | ERT hee = Bro. Be eee Ys o.- yhise~ Se pe i Se ein eg “> 2 EO ite he ng he oTi+ ied you lim vhy and he ere. live _ as warily, - mals. and a small.water hole. he spring, that. fed it, which they had walled off with loose -. stones, so that the animals could not reach it if they the smoke of his fires, went out into the valley where their animals knew we were a long way from the tent, he back-tracked, and collared those supplies.” ‘ This was Chip Merriwell’s surmise. “And he will be down on the tent for more, if we leave it again, and he becomes aware of it. But see here, Chip, he can’t eat raw flour. He will have to do some cooking, and that means he’ll build fires. We can watch for the smoke of his fires.” “And go up to them and engage in battle with him for the supplies he stole? Excuse me. He’s welcome to what he took, if he takes no more; and he’s going to need it if he plays hide-out.” “What I meant is that perhaps we can locate him by and then we can notify the troopers.” “The old recipe for a rabbit stew,” said Chip, “begins: ‘First catch your rabbit.’ Where is that camp of troopers?” “The paper says it’s near here. The message we got shows, too, that they know where we are.” “Oh, yes, they know where we are, but so long as we don’t know where they are, that isn’t going to help us find them.” “Perhaps some of them will make us a call,” said Fisher hopefully; “that biplane man will tefl them that he passed over our camp and dropped the newspaper and a letter.” el wish he had stopped his engine at this little flag station,” Chip remarked; “if we hadn’t been hit so hard by surprise, we could have flagged him, or called to him, and perhaps he would have come down; then we’d have , known where the troopers are.” “All we've got to do is wait,” said Fisher resignedly. “And while we're waiting, my beloved pupil, V’ll just see how much you remember of the things we went over yesterday.” “Oh, this grind,” said Chip, laughing; “there’s been too much excitement to think of study. You’re determined to make. a scholar of me just to please dad and Uncle Dick.” “And myself,” said Fisher; “I’ve. got a little pride in this thing. Do you think we’d have packed that bag of books out here if it hadn’t been the intention for you to study?” ; “Fisher, I’ll holler right out, and. forget. everything, if that madman comes up to the door of the tent.and sticks ‘his nose in while we’re busy.” “To provide against that,” said Fisher solemnly, a as well “the interesting little lecture that’s due to-day will be delivered right out in front of the tent.” CHAPTER IV. THE MOUNTAIN LION. The man in khaki did not reappear, and nothing came to disturb them. After the two solid hours of mental work which Fisher imposed and which Chip willingly accepted, they were lariated. They had two good horses and four pack ani- They, had thought the question of the feed sup- ply .was ‘settled, for there was good grass in the valley Above the water hole was a NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY. escaped from their lariats. From the spring their water supply had to be carried to the tent. They changed the picket ropes, giving each animal a new grazing place, and drove down the iron picket pins securely, pounding them in with their heels. “What do you think,” said Fisher; “is it going to be safe to leave them here? Suppose that Mr. Trooper Tanner should take it into his crazy head to run them off in the night, or when we’re not looking? He might fancy that he needed to add them to his imaginary sheep ranch. Then where would we be?” “Right here,” said Chip, “The walking’s good. Be- sides, it’s no more than two hundred yards up to the tent, over that rise; and there’s no grass up there worth men- tioning. If anything is to be moved, we'll have to move the tent down here. I’d hate to; the air up there is better and the view fine. Down here we couldn’t see anything.” “T guess you're right,” Fisher admitted; “generally are, except when. you're trying to tell .me what you've. for- gotten of yesterday’s study. As for the distance -being no more than two hundred yards, it-might as well be a mile, in the night, or when we're asleep. After. I’ve -hit the hay good and friendly, Trooper Tanner might: lug me off and I’d never know it; stealing these animals, or our supplies, would be easy when we're asleep.” _ mae But, as moving their tent and supplies down into the valley promised to be a toilsome and disagreeable job, they decided to postpone. it until later in the day. In the interval they prowled about, keeping to the hilltops. They saw nothing and accomplished nothing, ex- cept to make themselves tired. Apparently there was no game. After they had. cooked and eaten their dinner, Chip wrote a short letter to his. Uncle Dick, in the somewhat slim hope that he might be able to send it to Santa Fe by the biplane. In the afternoon there was more study. When it was through, they brought up the animals, packed their belongings on them, and moved everything down into the valley by the water hole. In work of this kind, Chip could give Fisher all the best cards, and then take the game. He was strong and resourceful, and under Dick Merriwell’s instructions he had mastered the Western ‘diamond hitch, used always in securing’ loads on pack animals : a hitch easily made when once mastered, and ‘which holds a load ' in Place as no other can. By the water hole they reset their tent, with a trench dug round it and the earth thrown as a banking against the lower edges of the tent walls, to ‘carry off any | ‘rain that might come. It didn’t rain often, yet a sudden and violent ‘storm might ‘now be expected at any time, In such a ‘storm a tent set up flimsily would almost on he carried away. In the work of tent setting, Chip Merriwell was » at home, and, when he was through with it, a tent -would withstand a windstorm like a house, and shed. water like the back of a duck. “If those troopers try. to train their holicgrask on our tent in the morning,” he remarked, “they'll find that it’s gone, like the Irishman’s | flea.” “And that will be a pity, if they do,” Fisher “urged. “They might try to instruct us how to find them,” 8 ' NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY. _As evening drew on, the animals were led to the water hole, and then they were lariated out for the night. The young fellows had discussed the idea of taking turns at guard duty, but decided that it was not -neces- sary; yet they sat talking by their fire:in front of their tent until a late hour before they turned. in. “’'m tired, and I’ll be asleep inside of ten minutes,” said Fisher; “if you happen to hear anything, just put your hand over and rouse me up.” He knew that Chip had the ability, which: he notably lacked, of sleeping so lightly in a time of need that he came out of it at the least sound or motion, and was instantly wide awake. ‘This night, however, there was no occasion for Chip to awaken Fisher; it was done very effectually in another manner. A rending scream of pain and terror, hair-raising in its quality, brought him out of his blankets with a jump; and he saw Chip, up at the same moment, diving for the tent door. Neither was more than half dressed. They had lain down without entirely disrobing, that they might, to an extent, be ready if anything summoned them. Fisher fingered out his glasses-and hooked them on his nose as he followed Chip. .He was not confused, but he did not know what had happened. Hearing Chip pick up his rifle, Fisher picked up his. The screaming had not ended, but was dying away, ac- companied’ by a threshing. struggle; which came from a point near the water hole. “What is it, Chip?” Fisher yelled. : “One of the animals,” Chip flung back at him. As if this évoked it, a scream sounded, of a different kind, wild and searching, an ominous cry that rang through the hills. “A mountain lion,” “Attacking the animals,” recklessly at Chip’s heels. The other animals were plunging on their picket ropes, kicking and squealing in terror and trying to break away. Fisher heard them throwing themselves, as the tightening lariats jerked them round and sent them down by the pull on their nécks. He heard more than one of them go over, threshing and kicking, and struggling up again. The night was dark, though there was starlight, a not very satisfactory light as such a time. Fisher heard Chip yell, and the next instant saw. the flame of his rifle and heard the cracking report. “Missed it,” Chip yelled; “missed it clean! A big lion, and it went over that way, Fisher.” Chip was running in the course he indicated, as if he hoped to see the lion again. Fisher sped on to where the animal that had been mauled lay struggling. The other animals were running round in circles at the ends of their long ropes, trying to break away. When he came close up to the struggling beast, Fisher stopped and struck a match. It gave but little light, yet enough to enable him to see that one of the pack mules had been pulled down, and was probably dying. “Better come back here, Chip!” he shouted, in warning. “Don’t go hurdling after that. thing in the dark.” When he had struck another match and took another said Chip, plunging on. thought Fisher, as he jumped look at the mangled mule, returning. “He went across that hill!” Chip shouted. “What damage did he do?” “Killed a mule, I think,” said Fisher gravely. “Stay here, while I bring the lantern from the tent.” “Tll get it,’ said Chip, bounding away for it. When he had brought the lighted lantern, they saw that the mule was not only badly torn on the withers, but its back seemed broken; for, while it pawed round with its front feet and threw its head about, its hinder parts lay motionless. “Got to kill it, I guess,” that’s a shame!” By the light of the lantern he made the best examina- tion he could. “Tts back is broken, and cut through,” he announced ; said Fisher mournfully; “oh, “it’s got to be killed to put it out of, its agony. Your job, Chip; I haven’t got the stomach for it.” Chip relished it no more than Fisher did; but as Fisher said it had to be done, Chip promptly put a bullet through the head of the mule and ended its torment. The mountain lion had vanished, but was probably lurk- ing somewhere near, for the big cat. does not like to abandon an animal that it has pulled down. When the mule had been shot, Chip and Fisher went the round of the other animals, quieting them as well as they could, and making sure that the picket pins would hold. One of the mules had drawn its pin and disappeared. “What do you say to turning them: all loose?” Fisher suggested. BS if that brute comes back, ae” could run from it.” “T’d like to, but I’m afraid they’d go out of the coun- try; in these hills we might never find them again. Still——” “We can get them nearer to the tent, and keep guard until morning,” Fisher then suggested. .“I wonder if we'll ever find the mule that’s broken away? It’s a good thing it wasn’t one of the saddle horses.” Acting on Fisher’s advice they picketed the animals closer to the tent, finding trouble in doing it, for the frightened beasts, scenting danger, made a fight to escape. “That lion’s hangifg round, and will be back at that dead mule as soon as it dares,” said Chip; “these animals smell it.” “It may be the blood that’s scaring them now,” Fisher. When they secured the animals by their lariats, they built a fire between them and the dead mule, and, after fully dressing, sat down by it, with their rifles on their knees. “This is something fierce,” said Fisher; “one of our pack mules killed almost as soon as we get here, and another one run off so that we may not be able to find it! If. this keeps up, we'll have to go back to Santa Fe in that aéroplane.” For a long time they sat talking, heaping wood on the fire whenever it began to die down. “It’s a good thing that we cut up this dead wood and had it ready to bring down here,” Chip observed, as he laid on a stick; “we'll have to get more to-morrow.” “To-day, you mean; it’s past midnight,” said Fisher, looking at his watch. “Well, the mountain lions are here, even if there aren’t any sheep close by. I’ve always heard that these so-called lions were a cowardly lot; said he heard Chip Merriwell. Sa tn ce a i ie aneiitineads NEW ‘TIP TOP. WEERVY. 9 but it doesn’t look like it, pulling down a mule as close to our camp as that.” “He broke for cover, all right, as fast as he could leg it, when I shot at him,” said Chip; “wouldn’t you call that cowardice? He didn’t offer to attack me.” “lye heard my grandfather tell yarns about them,” said Fisher; “he made a trip West when he was a boy, out to Missouri; that was West then. Oh, don’t laugh! We were all from Missouri when the old gentleman had the floor on the subject of mountain lions. He called them panthers, and he said the natives there called them painters. He claimed that if a man killed a deer,. and tried to bring it home after dark, one of the big cats would be sure to follow him, watching fora chance to jump en him. And it was almost impossible to keep hogs, for the panthers were always raiding the pens. But when he got straightened out with some of his choicest yarns, we were all from Missouri.” “Slandering your granddad! You ought to = ashamed of yourself,” said Chip, laughing. “I hope that fellow doesn’t come at the animals again,” Fisher declared. “I wouldn’t want him to pull down another mule, but I want him to come again, for I’d like to get another crack at him. I was in too big a hurry, and a little too dazed that time.” “Sh!”. Fisher warned. snort?” “Yes,” said Chip. They heard it again. Then they heard the horses and mules racing round on their picket ropes. “That dead mule is right. out there,” said Chip, rising and peering; “if the lion comes, that is where he will stop. “He'll not bother the others so long as that’s out there.” Fisher stood up, siosnaies id peered out beyond the fire with Chip. At first they saw nothiig: but the continued uneasiness of the picketed: animals made thee sure the lion was near. Then they saw the lion, a dark outline, revealed only by the luminous fire of the eyes. Chip lifted his rifle, but the eyes were gone. : “Didn’t you hear that. horse The horses and mules were jumping at the ends of their lariats. After an exciting minute or two the eyes were seen again, only to vanish. “FTEs right out theré,” Chip Stacbea shrilly ; “when he looks this way, we see his eyes, when he turns his head away, we can’t see them. He’s gnawing at the body of the mule right now.” Fisher tiptoed and peered out at the side of the fire. “T don’t see anything.” “T don’t, now. I wish those horses and’ mules would keep still; then maybe we could hear him!” , ~ “Shall I shoot at the place where I think he is?” Chip queried. “Just as you like.” “I'd probably miss him and scare him off again. Per- haps we'll get to see him better.” Chip stirred up the fire; but the body of the mule re- mained only a dark spot, and the lion invisible. “What do you say if I throw a burning stick out there?” Said Fisher. “When it lands it will flare up or throw up sparks and reveal him; then you be ready and let drive at him.” “Sounds good to me,” Chip assented. He dropped to one knee by the fire, while Fisher pulled out a brand carefully. c “Get ready,” Fisher warned; “here goes!” He flung the brand straight out at the body of the mule. As it landed, it cast up sparks in a sputtering shower. Chip’s rifle was at his shoulder and his fingers pressing the trigger, and he had almost sent the bullet: “Not there,” he said, lowering the rifle; “I was WEEKLY: rider is sure that his craft won’t suddenly disappear from under him.” | “Well, this turtle was certainly old enough. And how } he could go! That old fellow made the water almost boil ; around his flippers. We made fifteen knots, I’m sure.” “They’re as strong as.bulls,” agreed the lieutenant. oy “But he absolutely refused to go out to sea. I wanted | =z to make some near-by land and raise a rescuing party, but | ° a the best I could force the old fellow to do was to skirt [= n about the island. A couple of hours before dawn, he got |. sick of my driving and prodding, and, somehow, in the | it canebrakes, escaped from me.” ; th “What did you do then?” eT “All I could do was to drag myself to the nearest solid an land and lie down—I was exhausted ‘by my exertions. It fc must have been near dawn when I heard, a little way off, er the sound-of men. Peering through the canes, I made out ; a number of the smugglers going by with buckets of-water | th and food,” m pa “For our captured crew, of course.” 5 it “That was my instant thought. I crept through the | po canebrake to the path they were following, and waited for | an them to reappear. When they did and had passed back ; out of sight, I stole through to our’ men.- The rest was |. Cre easy. There was no guard over the men, as the smug- bet glers depended solely upon the isolation of the camp and | to the impossibility of finding the secret path, to hold them | ver prisoners there. e it was back through the canes, ‘ust Ss in time to save you.” opp “Good for you, Staff, old man!” cried Storm heartily, had and he reached out his bandaged right hand. : bad Stafford held it firmly-in his. — gho “I’m only sorry, Bob,” he said, “that we were riot soon pen enough to save you from that terrible ordeal. ‘Now, I | , ee guess it’s back to the old Delaware.” oe.’ Bob shook his head. It “You forget our commission, old top,” he laughed foe bravely. “First, we must bring the Jean Lafitte to New oa Orleans, and turn it over to me government. That will 1 Jone be the finish of all this mix- up.” a On ae ws : “ THE END i ; Zo o the ¢ or Wi A BRAVE. COWARD. ft ways By B. E, PENNE. 7 t tae barely three years now since ‘oncaeid Bob “White }. et a died. For a coward, no boy’s demise was. more thoroughly ; ee mourned, or his loss more keenly felt than was Bobs. Re Te After his’ death the name of “Cowardly Bob” was a, smold dropped, and that of “Poor, brave Bob” substituted. 7 to - Bob was, at his death, seventeen years of age, five feet eas in height; in fact, a “strapping youth.” He could not ec be called handsome,. but there was a something in his Be leet, countenance that prepossessed one in his favor. But for | “he’s : all this, he had but few fast friends, that is, friends that | ~ would stick to him through thick and thin. This I lay | , Bob to his reputation as a coward. How he ever got it is a} ‘ned mystery to me. ae “No: On one occasion a: few of his companions began twig- his fr ging him about his cowardice and lack of courage. That) : ar ‘ was the only time that I remember of ever seeing him | Witt i straight out from his shoulder, and knocked Bill Jones from off his pins, and Bill was the biggest in the crowd. Bill got up, and showed fight, and, to our surprise, Bob at how | once apologized. That increased his reputation forty per _ boil cent. : A short distance from the: village was a creek, whose waters were used as: motive power for several mills situ- anted : ated. upon its banks, There were two' dams; the upper r, but - and Jower dams, we called them. The upper dam was skirt i nearly opposite the village, and was in very bad condition. e got |. One side of the dam had given way, and the open- n the | ing thus formed, slanting down at an angle of more than forty-five degrees, formed a dangerous sort of chute. The chute in itself was dangerous, but it was. rendered solid _. more so by the bar right below, there being no more than s. It | forty feet of open space between the chute and the upper y off, end of the bar. le out | As a natural. consequence, the waters, after passing water | through the chute, had to here make a sharp turn.- The parties who had erected their mill at this dam never had it repaired, considering the site unsuitable for their pur- +h - the - poses. So, with each successive year, the dam grew more ed for | and more dilapidated. i back |, The lower dam was in excellent condition. Here the st was |. creek had a fall of some eighteen feet, About halfway smug- between the dams. was a rickety old bridge, almost ready np and | 0 topple over. The distance between the two dams was them | very nearly a quarter. of a mile, es, just Situated in the low lands bordering the creek, directly sas opposite the village, was a small log house. « This house ‘eartily, had been for many years unoccupied, on account of its a bad reputation as the haunt of some individual of the ghostly fraternity. As I never saw the ghost, I cannot aie vouch for the truthfulness of the report. But, be this Now. ft as it may, very few of the boys had the requisite courage ge ‘ to visit the house alone, though we often did it together. It was two weeks after New Year’s Day, as we were ied coming out of the public school—we in this case refer Ps Meee to Bob, Jack Evans, Bob’s only boon companion, Bill Ee New Jones, and myself—when Bill Jones stopped us with these hat will — ivan P werds: | “Boys, hurry and take your books home, and we will go over to the haunted cabin, and spend the balance of _ the day skating.” We all agreed to Bill’s proposal and hurried on our | ways. An hour later saw us all asembled around a fire | in the cabin’s solitary room. The creek showed signs 2 | of breaking up, and we were all anxious to have one more b White | good skate. . rougiae It was dark when we again sat down in front of the ie ine | smoldering fire to remove our skates. As it was proposed 4 Ve ae to meet again after supper, one of us would have to Ue aealid remain and watch until the balance returned. Somehow five feet | or other, Bill Jones wanted Bob to remain. ould not | “No,” replied Bob decidedly. “I am going home.” ig in. his ae “Poor baby!” said Bill mockingly, “let him go home; But ad _ he’s afraid of the ghost.” oT ky KS Bob flushed crimson, and tightly clenching his hands, oe ie fa “turned silently away, fee “Nonsense!” exclaimed Jack Evans, ever ready to defend can ‘iwi! be 3 vate friend; “that’s mean, Bill. I will stay; but hurry cc With this, Jack sat down again and refastened his fist shot kates; for it was understood that the one who remained NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY. was not to stay in the cabin, but just to keep his eye on things, and see that nothing was carried off. “It’s a pity Bob is such a coward,” said Bill to me, in a whisper. T do not know whether Bob heard these words or_not, but he stepped up to Jack, and said: “Jack, you had better not stay here; the gorge above the. dam has loosened up considerably in the past few days, and, as there is open water from it down to: the dam, it will smash things up badly when it does come.” “No danger, Bob,” said Jack cheerfully. “It is getting colder, and the gorge is good for several weeks yet.’” All that Bob had said was true; but we were venture- some, and never thought of- the danger. I had scarcely finished my supper, when I heard a great uproar in the street. Knowing that something un- usual must be going on, I rushed out, and was told that the gorge was coming down, and was carrying everything before it. My thoughts at once turned to the words. that Bob had ‘spoken. I never gave Jack a thought, knowing that he was safe if not on the ice. Ahead of me was Bob, going as fast as he could toward the creek. The moon, shining brightly, revealed to my eyes a sight that I never again wish to behold. The waters were covered with ice until it seemed a great white belt, ever moving. Nor. was that all.. One single pier was the only remaining vestige of the bridge, and on it was a human form. It was Jack! Despair seized all hearts; not a single boat was below the upper dam, as I well knew, and, if there had been, I doubted if any one could have been found, who would have periled his life in attempting to man. .it. ; The pier could not long withstand the furious rush of ice, and when it gave way, Jack would be lost. I did not know that Bob was beside me until I heard his voice exclaim: “Tt’s Jack!” A moment after he was bounding with the speed of a deer up the creek. Shortly after a new cry arose. Some one in a skiff was above the dam. I turned my eyes in that direction, and saw a man, apparently young, struggling manfully. At this moment one of his oars was seen to break off short. Nothing now could save him. Quick as thought -he seated himself in the stern and plied his remaining oar as a tiller, steering for the chute, and in a second was lost to sight. It seemed almost an age before he appeared below the chute and safely made the turn, Gradually he worked his way down the stream, directing his course toward, the pier. When he was within twenty feet of the pier, he seized a rope arid stood ready to catch it over one of the mark- ing spikes as he glided by. A cheer arose as he checked his boat and received his precious freight. Slowly but- surely he worked in shore. Now but five feet from the shore, and scarcely more than one hun- dred from the brink of the dam. Jack and his rescuer both rose to their feet, the stran- ger still guiding. A few words, and Jack attempted to leap successfully; but, merciful Heaven! the recoil threw the stranger almost over, and urged the boat from the shore. The doomed stranger hastily rose to his feet. Very near twenty feet separated him from the bank. With upturned face, he again grasped his oar; trusting ' SYM 5 a to an all-wise Father’s will, he sought, as the only means of escape, to go over the dam in safety. An instant the skiff trembled on the brink, and then, just at that moment when the. pier was falling, went over. It was “Poor, brave Bob’—“Cowardly Bob” no more. Several of the men found his body below the dam, cut and hacked in a frightful manner. He was not dead, but he never came out of the stupor. Two days after, he was buried. Poor, brave Bob! we visit his lonely grave often, and none of us are ashamed to shed a few tears in remem- brance of him. No nobler death could be desired. To his companions a coward, but. to those who understood him, a moral hero~—one who ranked conscience above praise of friends, false or true. His death was in keeping with his life. A CLEVER CATCH. V By GRANT. WEST: The person who related this story to the writer had charge, some years ago, of a postal division on the west- ern coast of India, parts of which had seldom ever been visited by a European officer. The people were for the most part simple country folk, and-very superstitious. One morning the narrator received information that a considerable sum of money, forming a part of the con- tents of the mail from a head to a suboffice, had been stolen on the road. The whole affair was wrapped in mystery. The only clew the police had been able to ob- tain was that one runner, whom we shall call Rama, had, since the theft, paid off certain debts in the village which had long pressed upon him, but there was no other suspicious circumstances, and the man had ten years’ good service. As a last resource, it was determined to resort to a trial by ordeal, and for this purpose an aged Brahmin, who was supposed to possess occult powers and to be in daily communion with the gods, was consulted, and readily undertook to discover the thief. All the runners—a goodly array of sturdy Mahratta peasants—were summoned to the office, and, under the -gitidance of a cheyla or disciple of the old Brahmin, all proceeded to a small deserted temple of Mahadeo, situated at some distance from the village. It was a desolate spot and bore an evil reputation. ~The temple, owing to some act of desecration during the past, had been abandoned, and was almost buried among weeds ‘and tangled brushwood. The hour selected was about six p. m., and. the long twilight shadows gave the place a weird, uncanny look. ‘The old Brahmin was waiting, and, as the party ap- “proached, appeared to be busy muttering incantations. The runners all seemed to be more or less under the spell of the hour, but the look of real fright in Rama’s face was quite distinct. The Brahmin, having finished his incanta- tions, rose, and addressing the men, said: “You are about to face the gods; to the innocent the trial will be nothing, but to the guilty, much. In the temple a magic wand has been placed on the altar. Each of you must go in by turns, take up the wand and turn ‘round three times, repeating the name of Mahadeo; the wand will stick to the hand of the guilty orie.” By this time it was nearly dark. A glance in through NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY. tones of voice, just to give him any. old coat.or trousers, the door of the temple showed a solitary oil buttee throw- ing a fitful light on the altar, on which an ordinary bam- boo stick, about two feet long, reposed among grains of | uncooked rice and nut limes, the whole sprinkled with i red powder. q A curtain was drawn across the door, and the men en- _ tered one at a time. As each one appeared, the Brahmin seized his hands and raised them to his forehead, and then i allowed the man to pass on and join his fellows. Coming to Rama, he went through the same pantomime, but instead® | — of allowing him to pass on, bade him stand aside. When 1; the last man had gone through the ordeal, the Brahmin | turned to Rama and said quietly: . “Tell the Sahib how you stole the money.” To the utter amazement of those present, Rama fell on his knees, confessed that he was the thief, and offered to show where he had hidden the balance of the money. He had succeeded in opening the mail bag without seri- ously disturbing the seals. The postmaster had not really examined them, and so their having been manipulated had escaped notice. Needless to say, the Brahmin was rewatded, and poor Rama was sent to repent at leisuré in the dis- trict jail. Now the natural question is: “How was it done?” Very simply. The temple, the lonely glen, the uncanny hour, the incantations, all were merely accessories to appeal to the superstitions of the ignorant peasants. The “magic wand” was thickly smeated with strongly scented sandal- wood oil, Rama’s guilty conscience prevented him from touching it, as he firmly believed the wand would stick to his hands, and his, of course, was the. only hand that did not smell of the oil, ; “ee LUCRATIVE HONESTY.- “Oh, Tom,” said a young wife to her’ husband, oT found — a truly honest man this morning.” ; “Indeed?” he said, laughing ironically. a “Yes, I did,” she said. “He was a tramp—oh, so: dirty © and ragged and hungry looking‘and miserable!’ He came round the back way and begged me, in the touchingest | so that he could throw away. his rags and, be a little cleaner; so I gave him that old black coat of yours.”.. “H’m-m-m!”. said Tom,- raising. his. brows. critically... “Now, don’t say ‘h’m-m-m-m!’”...pouted. his. wife, ‘Gor before he had been gone ten minutes, he came back, all 4 out of breath, and—what do. you. think?” | “Asked for a hat and vest to suit the coat, r growled not s that | ber ° ae : ! ; aa : “No, sir,” proudly e Meclaithed Mrs. Tom, “No. , He Ohhe | came to bring back a five-dollar bill he had found in the a ie inside pocket, where you had forgotten it last summer! There, wasn’t that honest?” : “ sn “Y.e-s,” said Tom slowly. “What did you give him bs i, it? ee “a ss ro thought such unusual honesty was worth a dollar, s hare I gave it to him. Such honesty deserves reward, is Peace sure.” | ; “I suppose it does,” said Tom, with a ‘Adgutnioua: pris tively as he teached out Wie hand for the note. “Only, x be fits: sides aes She caught ‘i breath. a rank forgery—that’s all.” row- yam- s of with L. Gui- hmin then ming stead * NVhen hmin i? Pr i Warm Praise. ae rt Dear Epriror: For thirteen years I have been a constant gael: reader of Tip Top, and I feel a desire to write you and really tell you just how much I have enjoyed it. i had I have actually read 767 numbers of this splendid little ded, e weekly, and in each one I have found, not only enjoy- Gig. Be ment, but a strong moral lesson. ae | The stories are and have always been fine, but, to an | old reader, the old characters will ever hold first place. NERY, 2p As to Burt L. Standish, I say that the creator of such hour, . characters as the Merriwells, and their crowd of loyal cal to | friends, is due the warmest praise man can give. magic | The Clancy stories were good, but through them all there was ever the hope that in each issue would again andal- aoe appear our old favorites. a Now they are here again, and I, feel the same keen , be e interest in our Merriwell boys as I did in the first of the early stories. We old readers feel we know personally all these characters, and they are dear to us. So, having added my few words of praise to the count- less others you receive, I close. But I wish for Tir Tor _ still greater success, and for Burt L. Standish long life and the success he deserves. Some day I hope to be able to personally meet Mr. Standish, and thank him for a found y dirty — work well done- - came | With my sincerest regards, I am, yours very truly, jingest | Texarkana, Ark. RRB, ousers, Such honest praise as yours certainly makes us feel . little © fine, and you can rest assured that your compliments will s”.. | not so puff us up that we will lie back on our oars, but ly. | that it will make us continue to strive to make each num- >, “for | ber of Trp Tor the best one yet. ck, all | ; ‘ q Europe’s Map Has Often Been Changed. rowle Europe’s map is being changed again. From earliest anne days the story is one of never-ending shifting of dominion. ». , He The boundary lines of her countries have been like the Ap the desert sands. mmer ! bai is Pe The greatest of military authorities has made an analy- ce sis of the history of mankind, showing that in 3,357 years ‘im for —from 1496 B. C, to 1861 A. D.—there were 227 years wits _ >f peace and 3,130 years of war, or more than a dozen lar, years of war for every one which was without strife. The ‘d, 1 peace of Europe has always been a myth. In the last 250 years, which is historically a compara- tively short time, one great nation, Poland, has been lost; two others, Germany and Italy, have come to their present National unity, and numerous other lesser States—Holland, Belgium, Switzerland, Portugal, and the Slav and Latin tates of the Balkan peninsula—have been battle grounds, losing and gaining their independence as if with the throw of the dice. In point of numbers involved, no other war can be compared to the terrible conflict enshrouding the greater part of Europe, but in one year 1,300,000 men were called out, and most of them perished, in the campaign of 1814. Between 1804 and 1815 Napoleon sent to their death more than 1,700,000 Frenchmen, to whom must be added prob- ably 2,000,000 men born outside of France. Napoleon changed more boundary lines than any other man. Europe was devastated by the Thirty Years’ War of Germany, the last great combat between Catholicism and Protestantism early in the seventeenth century. Germany, a federation of States, was called the Holy Roman Em- pire. The House of MHapsburg ruled the empire. Richelieu, the great French statesman, who had no re- ligious prejudices and desired to crush the Hapsburgs, aided the Protestants. The war swept over Germany, Sweden, France, and the Netherlands. When it ended, Switzerland and the United Netherlands were freed from German dominion, and the States of what is now Ger- many were conceded to be separate from the Hapsburg rule and to be autonomous, or having the right of self-gov- ernment, France penetrated to the east by the cession of the bishoprics of Mctz, Toul, and Verdun, Alsace went from Austrian hand to France. Sweden, great on the sea, received enough territory in North Germany to com- mand the mouths of the three German rivers, the Oder, Elbe, and Weser. The largest territory received by any of the German States was by Brandenburg, which later became Prussia, and finally Germany. In 1701 the Elector Frederick, of Brandenburg, took the title of King of Prussia, and Prus- sia came to be the exponent of German nationalism and enmity to Hapsburg domination. Frederick the Great, who reigned in Prussia from 1740 to 1786, found his opportunity to lead his nation to greater power in the War of the Austrian Succession. The-“Succession Wars” were five in number. The re- sult of the first one—of the Spanish Succession—early in the eighteenth century, was to give Austria the Spanish Netherlands, and the duchies of Milan, Naples, and Sar- dinia, Savoy, a leader in Italian affairs, exchanged Sar- dinia for Sicily. England gained Gibraltar and Arcadia in America from the French. The War of the Polish Succession, ending in 1738, brought France to guarantee it would not interfere with the ascendancy of Maria Theresa to the throne of Austria. It was at this point that Frederick the Great, inter- fered. He reasserted an old claim to Austria’s throne and invaded Silesia, adding it to Prussia’s territory. eS reece rs Pane ATS The growth of Russia is closely related to the history of Sweden, even as it is now through Russia’s suzerainty over Finland. Sweden had come into power when Charles XII. crushed a coalition of Denmark, Poland, and Russia. In 1709 he invaded Russia and was defeated. Peter the Great, then seized Sweden east of the Baltic and built St. Petersburg. The history of Poland is one of gradual decline in power from the middle of the eighteenth century, due in large part to the loose system of government and weak rulers. In 1772, Prussia, Austria, and Russia got parts of Poland. Kosciusko drove the Russians from Warsaw, but internal dissension ruined the Polish cause, and the final partition came in 1795. The wars of Napoleon Bonaparte from the first bril- liant Italian campaign to their end at Waterloo are rec- otds of territorial aggrandizement for France and the House of Bonaparte. In the first campaign Italy became the Cisalpine Republic, and Genoa the Ligurian Republic. This was in the time of Napoleon’s democratic sympathies. Austria was forced to give up the lower Netherlands— Belgium and Lombardy. Napoleon became first consul of France in 1799. Pied- mont and Parma were annexed in 1802. When his ideas of democracy grew dim, and he became emperor in 1804, he made himself King of Italy and annexed his Ligurian Republic. The next campaign was against the Russian, Austrian, and English coalition, Vienna was occupied, and the battle of Austerlitz again made a new map necessary. Francis I, of Austria, ceded Tyrol and Venetia. His successor gave up the title of emperor, and the Holy Roman Em- pire dissolved into history. In 1806 Napoleon formed the Confederation of the Rhine, made his brothers, Joseph, King of Naples, and Louis, King of Holland. Prussia entered the war and Napoleon entered Berlin. He made a treaty with Russia to crush England. Portugal, an English ally, was dis- membered, Spain was conquered, and Joseph Bonaparte became its king. The Swedish revolution in 1809 brought Marshal Bernadotte, a brother-in-law of Joseph, to the Swedish throne. Jerome Bonaparte got the Kingdom of Westphalia, Tuscany was annexed in 1807, the Papal’ States in 1809, and Holland and part of the German coast in 1810. Austria gave up its Illyrian provinces. The tide turned with the Russian invasion, after Rus- sia, went over to England in 1812, In swift succession came the terrible reverses of the Russian campaign, the defensive campaign of 1814,'the abdication, the One Hun- dred Days, and Waterloo. The Congress of Vienna re- arranged the map of Europe, and France went back to its place west of the Rhine. Belgium was annexed by Holland, and was freed only when the Catholics of Belgium revolted against Protestant Holland in 1830. ' The Congress of Vienna also prepared the way for Italian unity. Seven principal States were mapped out, and only two left under foreign rule, French Corsica and Austrian Lombardy and Venetia. Unification came under Victor Emmanuel II. The loosening of Turkish rule in eastern Europe came in 1829, when Greece won its independence, aided by Rus- » sia, Bulgaria, Herzegovina, now one of Austria’s trouble- some Slavic States, Servia, and Montenegro became inde- - pendent in 1875. Roumania was freed two years later. In NEW ‘TIP TOP WEEKLY. canals which provide cheap transportation. the treaty of Berlin, 1879, Bosnia and Herzegovina went to Austria. German unity, which came in 1871, during the war with France, changed the map of Europe but very little. How- ever, in that slight cession of Alsace and Lorraine to Germany after the war, were the seeds of hatred between the French and the Germans, That corner of Europe known as Alsace-Lorraine covers about 5,000 square miles to the west of the River Rhine and has been one of the richest portions of the German Empire. It has 2,000,000 people; the population of Strass- burg, the capital, being 160,000. Alsace-Lorraine is rich in coal and its cities are the seats of manufacturing in- dustries. Muelhausen, the scene of reported battle, is the seat of cotton weaving, Alsace, rich and fertile, produces more wines than the rest of Germany. Wheat, rye, and barley are large products. Many of the people of Alsace-Lorraine removed to France to escape the policy of Germany, which was to Teutonize it by enforced use of the German language. For the most part the military party enforced its policy of a rule by force and this kept alive rather than crushed the love for France. The country is highly developed, is covered with a net- work of railroads and in addition there is a system of Whole Family Likes “Tip ‘Top.” Dear Epiror: I have been a reader of Tip Tor eyer since I learned to read, and I am now in my thirteenth year, and I think it is the best paper for boys published, and for grown-ups, too, for that matter. Mother and daddy both like to read it, having read it before I was born. I have read some of the old numbers, and like them all. I would like to get the copies containing the intro- duction of the Merriwells. Will you be kind enough to— send me a catalogue and a set of post cards? I would | appreciate them very much. Yours truly, Box 94, Charleston, Miss. Gravy V. Suive. We have mailed you the cards and the catalogue. You will find the stories you want in the New Medal Library. Find Wealth in Old Pitcher. While digging in the back yard with his toy spade, Bruce Payne, four years old, of Byington, Tenn., discovered — an earthen pitcher. It was too heavy for him to lift out © himself, so he called his mother, who assisted him. The | pitcher was filled with gold and proved to be one that tradition had said was buried on the farm thirty years ago by an old man, who never told the secret of the — hiding place. e. FAC A Husky Tip Topper. : Aer Dear Eprtor: Having read Tie Top for several years, wea I thought I would let you know how glad I am that the _gece old characters are reappearing in the pages of Tre Tor. The Owen Clancy stories were good, but it didn’t seem dire like Trp Tor without the Merriwells. , Dick is my favorite. I guess it is because I have read more about Dick. His Texas “pard” comes next. The first Tre Tor I read was No. 408, “Dick Merri- well’s Defeat.” Have been reading Tip Top off and on ever since. ae rent M Hoping Burt L. will live to a ripe old age and continue ae writing the Tip Top stories, I will close. vith i ; Farmington, Mo. Epw, ZIMMERMAN. ow- ay P. S. If any readers have any of the early numbers NO ae of Tir Tor before No, 500 to exchange for other weeklies, een would like to hear from them. as: I am aged 20, height 6 feet 2 inches. What should my vers i measurements be? E. Z. une Your measurements should be: Weight, 176.6 pounds; nah ae neck, 16 inches; chest, contracted, 38.7 inches; chest, ex- ass- | ___ panded, 42.8 inches; waist, 34.5 inches; forearms, 12.2 nin | inches; upper arms, down, 13.2 inches; upper arms, up, i i 14.5 inches; thighs, 16.2 inches; calves, 16.2 inches. 1e sis Tips Officer Off to Own Moonshine Still. The activity of Deputy United States Marshal Harman ao a C, Buchanan, of Freeling, Va., who was appointed -re- Sto ee (cently, in running down moonshiners and their stills, has ee ‘e led to many exciting stories of thrilling escapes. The ets moonshinets have many friends, who tip them off to the had intended raids of the marshal. Often when Buchanan goes to raid a still, he finds it has been removed. An woes instance of this was noted recently when a still was located et in the upper end of the county, and the marshal apprised of the fact, but before he could get to the place the still b and its equipment had been moved away, with the excep- | tion of the disordered furnace. ae An enterprising moonshiner of this county conceived an ever t idea by which he added several dollars to his pile. He enth | gathered up parts of worn-out, discarded, and abandoned hed, | stills, which he pieced together, Then he made some liquor and | in it and afterward went to the officer and told him that was he had a still located. The reward for tipping off the like |, officer was several times greater than the value of the oe, still. tro- | High Praise, i ins Dear Eprror: I would like to speak my mind about Tip Tor. I find that it contains good reading, best quality, and : good enough for any minister to read. Tir Top is a - } standard, and liked and praised by all who know what oe | good reading is. + ae Any complaints or criticism comes because the stories are misunderstood, as nothing is printed that is out of the way. There is nothing harmful whateyer in Tip Top, ruce It is a weekly that has made a name for itself, and a ered | record, Great characters are brought out in Tip Top, and out | it’s a book that takes more personal effect of anybody, The » which is the secret of the success of Tie Tor. Yours that. truly, R, W, eats: _ Worcester, Mass, the tage Dog Feeds its Mate Trapped in Old Shaft. “Chiflado,” a ‘prize-winning Blue Kenmuir sheep collie, imported from Scotland by Rinaldo Martinez, one of the ats wealthiest sheepmen of southern Colorado, disappeared Pia _gecently. oP. ; ~~ A wide search for the missing dog was started under direction of experienced guides, but was given up two days ‘ago, when hope of recovering the valuable animal was abandoned. It was observed at the ranch of Martinez that “Rosita,” ‘mother of the famous Rosita string of collies and mate of “Chiflado,” for two weeks had; vanished nightly, remain- away until about daybreak, NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY. Employees of Martinez followed her one night, but! lost trace of her in the darkness. A night rider guarding the sheép herd of the Archu- letta estate, near Mount Baldy, three miles from the Martinez ranch, saw Rosita crawl stealthily up to the camp mess tent the next night, He watched her, He ob- served that she leaped a dozen times at the string of “Serked” beef and venison hung in front of the tent. He saw her gather strips of the dried beef in her mouth, which she carried off. He followed. He saw her stop above the opening of an abandoned mine shaft a mile away and drop the beef into the murky hole. He investigated. At the bottom of the shaft, twenty feet from the surface, he discovered Chiflado. The dog had fallen into the opening. He was brought to the sur- face apparently none the worse for the experience through which he had gone. He had been saved by his mate. He was returned to the Martinez ranch this afternoon. Rosita met him. Their greeting touched Martinez and his employees. Chiflado smothered his mate with canine kisses. She returned them. Though both are nearly ten years old, they followed this with playful puppy antics, They have been mates for eight years and are considered the best sheep dogs in America, Martinez has ordered a party of his men to board up every abandoned mine shaft within a radius of fifteen miles of his ranch. Present Stories Great. ProFEssor FourMAN: Please tell me the correct measure- ments for a boy 5 feet 4% inches tall. I have been a reader of Tip Tor for about two years and I think the present series are great. I would like to hear more of Tommy Tucker and Hop Wah. Manayunk, A READER. Your measurements should be: Weight, 115 pounds; neck, 12.9 inches; chest, contracted, 31.4 inches; chest, expanded, 34 inches; waist, 26.4 inches; forearms, -9.6 inches ; upper arms, down, 9.2 inches; upper arms, up, 10.7 inches; calves, 12.5 inches; thighs, 18.1 inches. Mother Shoots Bull as it Gores Her Sons, While an infuriated bull was goring her two children, Mrs. J. L. Roberts, of Logtown, Ark., wife of a member of the Arkansas Legislature, shot and killed the animal, her rescue of the lads being made just in time to save their lives. The bull first attacked Mrs. Roberts’ four- teen-year-old son. The boy was knocked down and stunned by the beast. His six-year-old brother picked up a stick and charged on the bull, which knocked him down. The animal was charging on the prostrate children when killed by the woman, y For All Time, Dear Epitor: I am one of your older readers, having read Tip Top for about eleven years and all the back numbers in the Medal Library, and I expect to read it till it is discontinued, which I hope will not be for a good many years. But I was disappointed with the Frank, junior, stories. I am hoping that Mr. Standish will come back in his old form and write stories like he did when Freaks : and Dick were at college. Why don’t you print the back numbers of the Diamond NEW TIP TOP. WEEKLY. Dick Weekly in the Far West Library or in some of your other fifteen-cent books? For I am sure many of the old readers of that weekly would like to read the stories again. Hoping to see this letter in print, I remain, a loyal Tip Topper, ALFRED CHRISTOFFESSEN. 112 West 5th Street, Duluth, Minn. Your suggestion will be taken under consideration. Huge Hailstones Ruin Crops. During the most severe thunderstorm of the year, hail fell at Bethlehem, Pa., which measured 214 by 1% inches. Millions of these bits of ice fell for almost an hour, covering the streets. In the country districts, fields of gar- den truck, corn, oats, wheat, and rye were ruined. It was a freak storm, some of the heaviest crashes of thun- der, brightest flashes of lightning, and the biggest hail coming while the sun shone. Likes Dick Best. Dear Eprror: I have been a reader of Tie Tor for nearly two years, and I can’t find stories in which I am so much interested. I like Dick Merriwell and Chip, also cunning old Crowfoot. I also enjoy very much Smoke, the darky, but Dick is the best of them all. Masson, Que. BM Pe he Elopes With Father’s Enemy. The mysterious disappearance of Miss Mae _ Ritter, twenty-year-old daughter of Frank Ritter, a saloon keeper, was explained. when her father received a_ telegram reading: “I have married your daughter.” It was signed by Walter Maimes, formerly pastor of the Second Reformed Church, of Paterson, N. J. The girl’s father has refused to give his blessing, as he con- sidered Maimes his worst enemy. Maimes led a crusade against saloons last spring; Miss Ritter sang in his choir, taught a Sunday-school class, and was an active church worker. She quit the church when the attack was made on her father. The New Covers. Dear Eprtor: As I am a constant reader of your fine publication, I thought I would write you. I notice there has been another change in the covers, and I do not think it could have been better, and I am not the only one that thinks it, either. If you have any more cards, I would like very much to have a set. Yours truly, Extwoop BARNHART. Charleston, W. Va. \ Kittens Without Tails, D. Deheaven, of Fordsville, Ky., has a cat which is the mother of four kittens, two of which were born without tails. Husband and I. Dear Epiror: Seeing in No. 107 a “Mrs.,” I thought I would write a few lines, also. Husband and I both have read the Tip Top from the very first numbers to the present, and can say we like every one of them; even the Claricy stories were fine. Owen ran an auto on a railroad track to beat a cheat. He sure had a good eye, and “Lefty,” of Can- ton, says Chip’s a fool. Chip hasn’t finished school yet, and he is earning a salary right now in the last num- ber, working for the Merriwell Company, and he ap- pears young, and will make good yet. Well, Salida, Col., is surrounded with mountains, ele- vation 7,050, distance from Denver 216 miles. We do quite a bit of gardening by irrigation. I have raised cabbage and sweet corn. This is a good place for onions. I raised some that weighed a pound each. It:is too high to raise tomatoes. ; Well, will close this long letter, and hope Mr. Standish and the editor both will have a long life, so that we may be able to read the fine stories that they are able to print. Hoping to see this in print, I remain, yours respectfully, Salida, Col. An Otp Grrt. Atmy Takes Ametican’s Cow. The French army needed a cow. James Gordon Ben- nett, owner and editor of the New York Herald, who lives in Paris, had one. He would drink the milk from no other animal. When he coursed over the seas in his great yacht, the cow went along. It will go no more. The army has it. Editor Bennett is raging. He drinks no milk. The army does. Characters All Good, _ Dear Epiror: Having been a reader of Tie Top for about three years, and you wanting the opinions of your readers, I wish to give you mine. I think Tre Tor could not be beaten, and certainly it is an ideal publication for the American youth. The good, clean characters and morals Burt L. uses will make any boy grow up to be a good man. Some of the readers, I notice, by the Compass, are always asking about the different characters and why they don’t hear more about them. Now, it is hard for Burt L. to please all of his readers, and I for one think he knows better what he is doing than his readers can tell him. I think the Clancy stories were great, also the continued stories, too, and I hope you will continue them and the Compass. I just finished the story about Dick and Potter with his league of white shoulders. I think it was one of the most interesting stories I have read for a long time. It seems to have more snap to it than a few former ones. The way Burt L. is putting in that -baseball stuff is fine. For I am.one great baseball fan myself. I would rather see or play ball than eat. Well, I have written a little longer than I expected, but I have so much praise for Trp Top that it can’t be helped. I forgot to add that I have no favorites; they are all the same to me. Hoping this escapes your wastepaper basket, I remain, a constant reader of Tip Top as long as it is in print, with three hearty cheers for Tip Tor, Burt L., and Street © & Smith. Respectfully, A, E. Gonter. Altoona, Pa. Gives a “Chew” to Elephant. Five elephants were tied outside a tent of the circus, waiting to be loaded into a train, at Kansas City, Mo. Three young men stopped in front of the animals. “Wonder if that little elephant likes tobacco, Jim,” one said. “Dunno. Give him a chew.” Mais. NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY. 31 Then the other young man threw the elephant a piece of tobacco. The animal caught it deftly in his trunk, transferred it to his mouth, looked at the young men a moment, then trumpeted wrathfully. | At the elephant’s cry three men left their work pulling tent stakes and ran to the scene of the trouble, A fight between the young men and the circus employees fol- lowed. Best Themen on the Stand. Dear Eprror: Please send me Nos. 107 and 108 of New Trp Top by return mail and oblige. I have been reading Tre Top for about four years, hardly missing a single issue. I think it is the best little treasure on the news stand. I have read a few Medal Library books. Much as I liked the Owen Clancy stories, none of them can take the place of the Merriwells. If you have any more of those Tip Top post cards, please send‘ me a set. As this is my first letter, I hope to see it.in print, Three cheers for Tip Top, Burt L. Standish, and may they live forever. Yours truly, C. Neuson SEIrTz. Stewartstown, Pa. We have serit you the Tie Tors you ordered, and hope you will like the stories in them. Prize fot First Pair Wed. Fifty dollars in cash, a necklace of specially cut and per- fectly fatched Moclips agates, and a matched agate ring and tie pin will be the wedding present of Moclips, Mo., to the first. couple journeying to the beach city to be mar- ried. In addition, the ceremony will be performed free by. Justice Drew, and all taking part in the affair will be tendered a banquet. “Some” Writer. — Dear Eprtor: I have been reading Tre Top Werx.y for some time, and think it is the best one out. B. L. Standish is certainly some writer. Please send me a set of Tip Top post cards if you have any left. Thanking you for them, IT am, yours very truly, Ri Lars _ Lewiston, Me. Shock Restores His Hearing, - Isom King, a resident of Inez, Ky., was struck by lightning several years ago and rendered deaf and dumb. Recently, while working for the Rockcastle: Lumber Com- ‘pany, King suffered another shock by laying his hand on Fellow workmen were His a live wire carrying 1,500 volts. amazed to hear him. say “Golly, boys; she’s hot.” hearing, also, was ‘restored. A New Reader’s Opinion. - Dear Eprror: Although I have only been reading Tip ‘op for a few months, I think it is about the best. weekly ‘published. I have noticed that some of the readers asked for cards; will you please send me some? ‘Please send me correct measurements for a boy 15% years old, who is § feet 7% inches tall. Will you please 1 me how to build up the muscles in the arms? Hoping to see this in print, I remain, 2101 E. Clay St., Springfield, Ill. Jor FREISCHLAG, Measure your arms, then take regular arm exercises, morning and night and whenever you think of it during the day. In two months measure your arms again, and you will be surprised to see what you have. accom- plished. Your correct measurements shouid be: Weight, 141.5 pounds; neck, 14.1 inches; chest, contracted, 34.5 inches; chest, expanded, 37.5 inches; waist, 29.9 inches; forearms, 10.6 inches; upper arms, down, 10.8 inches; upper arms, up, 12.3 inches; thighs, 20.4 inches; calves, 14 inches. $100,000 Given to Help City. George M. Hoover, former mayor and wealthy banker, of Dodge City, Kan., who died recently, left more than $100,000 to Dodge City, it was discovered when his will was. opened. Hoover’s wife died last spring. He had no children or near relatives. About $50,000.was left to relatives in Canada and to friends here, and $10,000 to build an audi- torium for Dodge City, which has no theater or public meeting house. In addition, $1,000 was left each of the six churches here. The rest. of the estate is to. be invested, and the income each year expended in: beautifying ‘the city. — Too. Light. ProFEsSoR FourMaN: I have read Tie Tor for a num- ber of years, and I can find no other weekly to equal it. I think I am too light. What should I do to get more weight? Yours, ~~ . het Superior, Wis. You will find your question answered in a reply to a reader in a recent issue of Tip Top, Joe. . Boy Swallows Wire Staple. John Hughes, five years old, son of Mr. and Mrs. E. M. Hughes, of Madison, Wis., swallowed a wire-fence staple. He never told his parents, but because of terrible pain he was hurried to a Madison hospital, where an X ray lo- cated the trouble and an operation removed the metal. — Another “Tip Top” Family. Dear Epitor: As I have been a Tre Top reader for seven years, I thought I would write a word to say I think it the finest: magazine out. I like all the Merriwells. One is as spol as the other in my opinion. Rie ee I have four boys, and they enjoy hearing them read: Also, my wife and daughter are as -ifiterested in therm as’ “we boys.’ I would be so glad to have some of the we cards if you have any more to spare. Wishing all the Tie Top readers good luck, ‘Gnd three cheers for Burt L.; I know he is a fine man, or he could not write such clean, uplifting stories. Hoping to see this in print, I am, Tatum, Texas. It certainly is a great gratification to us to know that a whole family, father and mother, sons and daughters, can get such pleasure out of Tre. Top, R. E. Prerce. Press Button and Get “Flush.” The operation of a poker table equipped with a me- : chanical device to win from the unwary and more or — less ignorant, was described in court, at Kansas City, Mo, __ at the trial of three ‘gamblers, L. M, Bales, W. H. Cast 8 . foot best. and C. G. Hurlbert. Hurlbert admitted the table was a marvel. The gambler could press a knee against a knob and a hand would rise up through a slit in the table. The operation was noiseless and a clever gambler, he said, could fool any novice. Bales was fined $500; Case, $100; and Hurlbert was freed, because he explained the table. Does Not Like Stories About Chip. Dear Eprtor: I started to read Tir Top two years ago, and since then I have read a good many back numbers. I have also read some of the New Medal Library books. This is my first letter to the Applause Column. The characters I like best are Dick, Frank, Bart, Bruce, Brad, Dale, Crowfoot, Ralph Sands, Art Morton, Dia- mond, Arlington, and Wiley. Of the girls I like June, Doris, Elsie, Inza, Felicia, and Mattie Gibin. ; Please give me the weight and measurements of a boy 5 feet 2 inches, and 13% years of age. I see in other letters that you are sending sets of post cards. Please send me a set. I would like to know if any more of Frank Merriwell’s School of Athletic Development will appear in this weekly. I do not like the stories of Chip Merriwell. I thank you if you see fit to publish this letter and answer as to my measurements. Yours truly, JoHN CHANCE. 217% West Main Street, Springfield, Ohio. You will hear more of Frank’s school. Your measurements should be: Weight, 100 pounds; neck, 12 inches; chest, contracted, 29.7 inches; chest, ex- panded, 32.1 inches; waist, 24.6 inches; forearms, 88 inches; upper arm, down, 8.1 inches upper arm, up, 9.7 inches; thighs, 16.8 inches; calves, 11.4 inches. Falls Forty Feet, Saves Eggs. Walter Faulkner, of Marlton, N. J., doesn’t know how he did it, but he did. Now he is congratulating himself on his luck and isn’t asking any questions. For Faulkner fell forty feet from the peak of a barn to the floor with an egg clasped in each hand, miraculously escaped injury, and saved the two eggs from damage. Faulkner had climbed to the peak of the barn to repair the rigging of a hay fork, and, while there, discovered a hen’s nest. Just as he grasped an egg in each hand, he slipped and fell. It is a well-known fact that rotten eggs are hard to break, but those Faulkner carried in his forty-foot drop were fresh, as he discovered when they were served to him later. This makes the feat the more remarkable. Old Joe and Frank, Dear Mr. StanpisH: For many years I have been read- ing your wonderful stories. 1 like Frank Merriwell with his old friend Joe Crow- My, but he did do some brave deedsy Why, one night I started to read “Frank Merriwell’s Long Chance,” and, after once starting, I could not stop until _ I had finished the book and found out how true a friend was Joe Crowfoot. One day, to my greatest disappoint- ment, he disappeared, and for a long time he never came back, so long it was that I thought he must be dead, but a true friend is sure to appear in the greatest of danger; so, to my delight, back he came. ° NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY. I am now convinced, and have toltmany friends, no . matter what they read, that once they: read a Merriwell story they will not be able to sleep without thinking what a wonderful man Frank Merriwell must be. Expecting to see this in the Compass, I am, yours truly, Toronto, Ont. CLAUDE BRONSCOMBE. Avoids, Prison for Seventeen Yeats. After fighting seventeen years to keep out of the Fed- eral penitentiary at Atlanta, Ga., Major William E. Breese, senior, of Asheville, S. C., formerly president of the First National Bank, which failed during the spring of 1897, with heavy losses to the depositors, left here to begin serving his term. He was in the custody of officers of the marshal’s office, following the issuance of an order in the district court that he should serve his sentence of two years. Best Weekly. Dear Epitor: Please send me a set of your post cards. I have read Tip Tor for about one year. I think it is the best weekly of the day. I bought No. 76 one day, and I found it so good I have been taking it ever since. Hoping to see this escape the wastebasket, I remain, a loyal Tip Topper. James A. VANCE. Slater, Mo. F, A. Wishart brought a cotton leaf which measured 12% inches in length to Lumberton, N. C., and showed it to a number of his friends. It was the largest ever seen there. Seven or eight-inch cotton leaves are considered large as a rule. Wishart brought the leaf from the Strong Wishart place, about three miles west of Lumberton. Theit Honeymoon tn College. Gilbert E. Counts, of Spokane, Wash., and Miss Daisy Schultz, of Pomeroy, Wash., are enjoying a novel five-year honeymoon. young couple will enroll as students. at Spokane Uni- versity, taking the same course and graduating simultane- _ ously five years. hence. ; As they first met at the university and their courtship’ was conducted there, college life is playing a prominent part in their destinies. DIAMONDS ON CREDIT Let us send you any Diamond you may . select from our catalog so you may com- pare our values with those offered by other dealers; be convinced that our IM- PORTER’S PRICES offer you a great 20% DOWN 10% MONTHLY antee certificate with We furnisha every Diamond and allow the full pur- chase price on allexchanges. We willsend express prepaid any Diamond or other article, for examination and approval, you to be the sole judge as to whether you keep it or return it at our expense. Write today for our FREE catalog de luxe No, 43 and see how easy it is for you to own and wear a beautiful Diamond, . W. SWEET & CO., Inc., 2 and 4 Maidon Lane, New York Clty. —— OLD COINS WANTED— © $1 to $600 paid for hundreds of coins dated before oe. , Send 10¢ for our new illustrated Coin Value Book, 4 Get Posted. CLARKE & CO., Box 67, L RO ,N Following a trip throughout Oregon, the. > Fed- reese, > First P BOF 5.58 begin — rshal’s . J district’ % J -cards...> @ k itis ay, and nain, a ANCE. sasured | wed it. | ef. seen «a sidered Strong ton. 3 Daisy’: . ve-year >> on,. the: /.4 e Uni- i dd ultane- urtship’ ominent: Remarkable Story Told by F. Gagnon. Builds Up Weight Wonderfully. “‘T was all run down to the very bottom,’’ writes F. Gagnon. “T had to quit work, I was so weak. Now, thanks to Sargol, I look like anew man. I gained 22 pounds in 23 days.’’ ‘‘Sargol has put 10 pounds on me in 14 days,’’ states W. D. Roberts. ‘It has made me sleep well, enjoy what I ate and enabled me to work with interest and pleasure. ’”’ ‘‘Before I took Sargol people called me ‘skinny,’ but now my name is changed.. My whole figure is different, my face is plump and full, my bedy is stout. Have gained 15 pounds, and declared another ’ am gaining yet. I look like a new man,’ gentleman who had just finished the Sargol treatment. Would you, too, like to quickly put from 10 to 30 pounds of good, solid, healthy, “‘stay there’’ flesh, fat and museular tissue between your skin and bones? Don’t say itcan’t be done. Try it.. Let us send you free a 50c package of Sargol and prove what it can do for you, When hundreds of men and women—and there are hundreds, with more coming every day—living in every nook and corner of this broad land voluntarily testify to weight increases rang- ing all the way from 10 to 35 pounds given them by Sargol, you must admit, Mr. and Mrs. and Miss Thin Reader, that there must be something in this Sargol method of flesh-build- ing after all. More than half a million thin men and women have gladly made this FREE TEST that we now offer you; and that Sargol does succeed, does make thin folks fat, even where all else has ’ failed, is best proved by the tremendous business we have done, PP ; Sargol has put pounds of healthy “‘stay there’’ flesh on oer hundreds who doubted, and in spite of their doubts. You don’t have to believe in Sargol to grow plump from its use. You just take it and watch weight pile up, hollows vanish, and your figure round out to pleasing and normal proportions. You weigh yourself when you begin and again when you finish and you let the scales tell the story. Sargol is a tiny concentrated tablet. You take one with every meal. It mixes with the food you eat for the purpose of separating all of its flesh producing ingredients. It prepares’ these fat-making elements in an easily assimilated form, which the blood can readily absorb and carry all over your body. Plump, well-developed persons don’t need Sargol to produce this result. Their assimilative machinery performs its functions without aid. But thin folks’ assimilative organs do not. This fatty portion of their food now goes to waste through their bodies like unburned coal through an open grate. A few days’ test of Sargol in your case will surely prove whether or not this is true of you. Isn’t it worth trying? A PLUMP, STRONG, ROBUST BODY This coupon entitles any person to one 50c package of Sargol, the concentrated Flesh Builder (provided you have never tried it), and that 10c is enclosed to cover postage, packing, etc. Read our advertisement printed above, and then put 10c in silver in letter today, with To enable any thin reader, 10 pounds or more under weight, to easily make this test, we will give a 50c box of Sargol absolutely free. Hither Sargol will increase your weight or it won’t and the only way to know is to try it. Send for this Free Test Package today, enclosing 10c in silver or stamps to help pay postage, packing, etc., and a full size 50c package will be sent by return mail free of charge. Mail this coupon with your letter to the SARGOL CO., 84-Y HERALD BLDG., BINGHAMTON, N. Y. coupon and the full 50c package will be sent you by return post. Address: The Sargol Company, 84-Y Herald Bldg., Binghamton, N. Y. Write your name and address plainly and PIN THIS COUPON TO YOUR LETTER.