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In spite of the terrific plunging of the frightened thoroughbred, Lightfoot held on
grimly, realizing that his weight would quickly tell.

 
 
~ Publishers’ Note.

«Teach the American boy how to become an athlete, and lay the foundation for a Constitution greater than that
ef the United States.’’—Wise sayings from ‘‘Tip Top.’’ There has never been a time when the boys of this great

‘country took so keen an interest in all manly and health-giving sports as they do to-day. As proof of this witness the record-breaking throngs
that attend college struggles on the gridiron, as well as athletic and baseball games, and other tests of endurance and skill. In a multitude of other
_ channels this love for the ‘‘life strenuous’ is making itself manifest, so that, as a mation, we are rapidly forging to the front as seekers of
honest sport. Recognizing this ‘‘handwriting on the wall,’’ we have concluded that the time has arrived to give this vast army ef young en=
_-thusiasts a publication devoted exclusively to invigorating out-door life. We feel we are justified in anticipating a warm response from our sturdy
American boys, who are sure to revel in the stirring phases of sport and adventure, through which our characters pass from week to week.

 

 

 

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Issued Weekly. By Subscription $2.50 per year. Entered according to Act of Congress in the year 10905, tn the Office of the Librarian of Congress, :

Washington, D. C., by THE WINNER LIBRARY Co., 2 Duane St., New York, N.Y.

 

No. 11.

NEW YORK, April 22, 1905.

 

Price Five Cents. ©

 

OR,

A Glorious Hit in the Right Place.

By MAURICE STEVENS.

 

 

 

 

CHARACTERS IN THIS STORY.

_ Jack Lightfoot, the best all-round athlete in Cranford or vicinity,
-adlad clear of eye, clean of speech, and, after he had conquered a few
of his faults, possessed of a faculty for doing things while others were
talking, that by, degrees caused him to be looked upon as the natural
leader in all the sports Young America delights in—a boy who in
learning to conquer himself put the power into his hands to wrest
victory from others. ;
. Tom Lightfoot, Jack’s cousin, and sometimes his rival; though
their striving for the mastery was always of-the friendly, generous
kind. Tom was called the ‘‘Book-Worm” by his fellows, on ac-
count of his love for studying such secrets of nature as practical
| observers have discovered and published; so that he possessed a
fund of general knowledge calculated to prove useful when his
wandering spirit took him abroad into strange lands.
Ned Skeen, of impulsive, nervous temperament, but a guod friend
of Jack’s. :
Nat Kimball, an undersized fellow, whose hobby was the study of
jiu-jitsu, and who had a dread of germs.
_ Lafe Lampton, a big, hulking chap, with an ever present craving
for something to eat. Lafe always had his appetite along, and
_ proved a stanch friend of our hero through thick and thin.
~ Saul Messenger, one of Jack’s cronies, and called ‘‘ Fighting Saul ”’
1} by his mates.
Nicholas Flint, who had a rod in pickle for Jack.
Bat Arnold, Flint’s ally in mischief making,
Kid Casey, the wizard pitcher of Tidewater.
Jubal Marlin, a member of Jack’s team.
Mack Remington; also a ball player of Cranford.
- Phil Kirtland, belonging tothe academy crowd, and fond of “‘play-
ing to the gallery.”
Joe Bowers, an emergency pitcher Tidewater trotted out when
Casey failed to make good.
Bright Eyes, a girl who came to Jack likea dream, and caused him
no end of worry.

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER I

UREAY BALL.
“One strike!”
Kid Casey, the “Wizard Pitcher of the Four-Town

League,” as he was called by his admirers, had sent in
what seemed to be a very “easy” one, and Macklin
Remington had “fanned the air’’ with his bat.

“Steady, Mack fy said Jack Lightfoot, the captain
of the Cranford Wee

Casey grinned with wide-mouthed pleasure, and
“wound up” once more.

It came again, that deceptive ball, which seemed so
“easy, but with a difficult kink of a drop right at the
plate.

- Remington thought surely he could get that “easy”

one, and fanned the air again.

 
ALL- SPORTS ‘LIBRARY. oon

Macklin Remington’s apple-red chee grew even
reader. He took a new grip of the bat. |

“Pap says that what you think is easy isn’t always
so easy as you think,” he declared, sagely, putting up
his bat. |

Again the “deceptive” ball came in.

“And I’m believing him!”

Kid Casey was so amused by the clever way he was
“feeding’’ those easy drops to the batsman that he

tailed to give this ball as much kink at the plate as the

Be Re

pre =  agpeerenes
uy KT hiare
as & {ite Ws
Pes

_ Mack swung at it; and he hit it.

venit flying as a daisy cutter past the shortstop
ato outfield; and Macklin, with his apple-red
chee s blazing, leaped for first; while the fans from
me c ranfot ed opened joyously with their loud clacking.
Crmford was again playing Tidewater, but on the

Tidewater grounds, this time.

‘Tidewater lay in a curve of the coast, and on a flat
near the shore and between the sea and the town were
the ball grounds, giving a lovely view of the bay, with
its blue islands, and white sails flecking the broad ex-
panse of sea here and there.

Down by the shore were the black wharves, where
coasters were loading and unloading their cargoes.

_A little further along was the dock of the bigger and
lighter passenger steamers.

One of them was poking her hull round the nearest
She had a single
striped funnel, from which black smoke was rolling.

island, making in for the harbor.

Further out, on the very sky line, the smoke of pass-

ing steamers trailed like brown ribbons.

A great crowd had gathered at the ball grounds to —

witness the game between Cranford and Tidewater—
a crowd composed chiefly of Tidewater people, who
were hurrahing dutifully for the home team.

But there were also many Cranford fans on the
bleachers and standing in groups, and these whooped
it up for the Cranford team with wild enthusiasm
whenever they had opportunity.

In the midst of one of these groups stood a Cranford
boy, with Polly, the Cranford mascot, poised on his
shoulder; and whenever the crowd gave tongue Polly

Wes
~~

caught excitement from the yelling and squalled her

‘loudest. : oe
"She squawked, and laughed, and cheered as often in

the wrong place as in the right one; but she was a _

loyal old parrot for all that, and always hurrahed for
Cranford. " Polly never made any mistake there; for
the simple reason that yells for Cranford and for Jacl

Lightfoot were the only ones that her keeper, Jey | 4

Marlin, had ever taught her.

Jubal was on hand, with his wide-mouthed Yankee —

grin,

and ever with an eye for any chance that might offer _ a

to make a nickel.

Jubal liked better to make dollars when he a but |

he did not scorn even the nickel.

“Many a nickel,
Makes a mickle,”

said Jubal, changing the old rhyme.

And it was good sense, too, even if it came only from |

the lips of Jubal Marlin.
Polly squalled with the Tidewater rooters, yelling

for Cranford, when Macklin Remington, trying in his” : 4

She could —
not have squalled louder or more joyously if he had

enthusiasm to make second, was put out.

been safe.

“Oh, shet up!” said Jubal in disgust.

I don’t see nothin’ to yell fer!”

But Polly continued to cheer for Cranford and for . A

Jack Lightfoot just the same.

Jack Lightfoot went into the pitcher’ sbox and Lafe
ee

Lampton behind the plate.

In the brief interval before stern duty demanded his

attention, Lafe had time to nibble at an apple, with oO J
which he always kept himself well supplied. Lafe al-—

most fancied that thisround old world would stop

whirling through space if ever the time came when
He believed that ap-

apples ceased to grow on trees.

“ready to do and die for Cranford,’ but also 4

yelpin’ abaout naow? He’s aout, and the side’s aout! —

ples were a necessity for him, and that he could work -

better, study better, play ball better, do any old thing —
better, when he had a good supply of apples in his

pockets or close at hand.

Jack sent the ball spinning over the heat of, the
plate.

 
Pe something worth while, if he could.

VALIESPORTS'LIBRARY. ee

The batsman fanned: then he fanned again; and then

“again, and was out.

_ Jack struck out the next two men in the same beauti-
ful fashion, making the Tidewater people wonder and

stare, and sending the Cranford fans into spasms of

delight. |

But when Cranford went to the bat they succeeded
only in filling two bases, and then. were retired ig-

: : nominiously to the field.

3 Jack went again into the pitcher’s box, resolved to do
Two innings
had been played, and this was the first of the third;
eet not a run had been made by either side.

Two of the best pitchers in the Four-Town League

i _ ‘were pitted against each other, and it had so far been

a battle of giants —Jack Lightfoot against the “Wizard
Pitcher.”

Jack now tried his “spit ball.” When he could con-
- trol it, this ball was wonderfully effective; but when he
a could’ not, it simply went wild. It got away from him
a now, and before he could secure control, to his disgust
-and chagrin, a man was on third and another on first.

_ Kid Casey was at the bat.

Jack stood in the box, turning the ball over in his

fingers before getting ready to throw, and he was
wondering if he ought to try the treacherous “spit
pall” again.

The Tidewater base runners had learned to fear the
Cranford battery, and they danced back to their bases
and kept close to them, as Jack stood thus.

_ Jack turned to throw in, and the runners danced out
for a good start.

o Casey struck at the ball as it twisted across the plate,
and missed.

Again the “spit ball” came in, and again Casey

fanned, to his astonishment, for he had felt sure of get-
: ting it.
o “Two strikes!” said the umpire.
[ ‘Once more Jack sent in the “spit ball,” but his con-
_trol was not so good this time.
Casey hit it down in front of him.
 Lafe Lampton leaped for it, picked it up, and jumped
back to the plate. :

Ben Bartlett, who was the runner on third, had

started from third for home as soon as he heard the bat
and ball collide; but he ran back to third for safety.
Lafe whirled like a cat, and threw to first; and the
ball ‘struck in the hands of Brodie Strawn, who was
playing first for Cranford, before Casey could get there.
But —Brodie did- not hold it; it hopped out of his

hands, for it had come iike a cannon ball.

Seeing this, Bartlett started again from third for
home; but went back, when Brodie threw to the plate.

Three bases were now filled by Tidewater, and the.
Tidewater fans roared their glee.

Silas Cross came next to the bat, Os Casey. )

Again the “spit ball’ came in.

Plunk! ese

S

The thud of the ball striking in Lafe’s mitt tote wae a

the story.

“One strike!” said the umpire.

Jack signaled to Lafe that he would throw the same
ball again, while both he and“Lafe closely watched the
base runners.

Plunk! sounded the ball in Lafe’s mitt,

Cross had swung and missed it.

“Two strikes!” said the umpire.

Again Jack signaled, and pitched.

Silas Cross knew, from the way the ball was coming,
that this would be a strike and out, and he tried hard
to get the ball 4).

But it shot downward so swiftly, after coming up to
the plate almost straight, that the best he could do was —
to graze the top of it with his bat.

He had hoped to place it in center ; but it flew with an
eccentric spiral down in front of him.

Lafe leaped for the ball, hopped back to the plate and
touched it with his foot; then shot the bali straight to
third.

Jubal Marlin, who was holding down third bag, was
the right man in the eet place just then; he held the
ball, put his foot on the base, and threw to Tom Light-
foot, who was second baseman.

Tom held the ball and tagged his man with a quick

motion.

It was all done so quickly, with such a whizz of ac-

 
4 | : ALE-SPORTS EIBRARV: (> ye oy

tion, that the fans hardly saw what was up until it was
carried through. '
Three runners had -been forced out.
Truly it was rare work; so clever, in fact, that when
the Tidewater rooters comprehended, and knew they
had seen playing the like of which they had not ex-
pected from amateurs, they were generous enough to
cheer the boys from Cranford, and to cheer them
heartily.

CHAPTER [1

A GAM ESS 2.0 PoP Dp.

. and with Old W agon Tongue hammered in

two runs, thus placing them that many tallies in the

the first runs pulled across the home plate in this
game.

The Tidewater boys felt that it was up to them to
stop this.

. They were playing on their own ground, watched by
their own home people.

They had been beaten by the Cranford nine at Cran-
ford some weeks before, at the very beginning of the
baseball season; but since that time, in other games
played, they had defeated both Mildale and Highland;
and they felt that now they were in trim to whip even
Cranford, which so far held the belt as the crack team
in the so-called Four-Town League—the four towns
being Cranford, Highland, Mildale and Tidewater.

_ The next inning opened with feverish earnestness.

The Tidewater nine was resolved to regain its lost
ground; and, of course, the nine from Cranford was

just as determined to hold their lead.

The Tidewaters were sure they had the best battery
that could be got together in that section; for Kid
Casey, though now a resident fp Tidewater and claim-
ing to be an amateur, was in reality a professional
pitcher, having played for money two seasons in a
This the Cranford boys knew, but they
could not prove it.

minor league.

While the game progressed, black clouds gathered
round the head of the mountain which lay at the north

..to first from Lafe.

of the town, and some of the weatherwise began to
predict rain. :

They hoped it would hold off until after the ‘game |
was finished, and this it seemed for a time might hap-
pen. But out at sea mist crept up off the face of the
water, hiding’ the smudges of smoke, the white sails,
and the blue of the outlying islands.

Jack Lightfoot again began to use the “spit ball,”
which he was fast getting under control.

“Send me an easy one,” said Jim Lane, the Tide-
water catcher, lifting his bat, as he stood in position.

Jack had been pitching drop bails.
to Lafe that he would try a rise.

Lane was a good hand with the timber. He had

seen those “drops” which Jack had been “feeding” to — :
, Tidewater, and he believed he could get one of them.

When a rise shot over the rubber, Lane let it pass.
Again Jack Lightfoot threw a rise.

Lane did not like its appearance any more than the :

He drew back as if he meant =
to strike at it, then figured that it would be | a a ball, and. |
let it pass. 2

looks of the one before.

“Two strikes!” called the umpire. oe
This was doing so well that Jack tried another rise.

It came with even a quicker upward turn as it neared — a
the rubber; but Lane hammered it, and knocked a

foul.
Under this foul Lafe scudded. cat
Lane threw down his bat; he knew he was out, and
he was, for the ball dropped safely into Lafe’s hands.
Paul Lockwood, the next up, taking experience from —
the failure of those who had gone before, succeeded
in getting a bunt on the second pitched ball, which gave 3

him first bag.

Sidney Talbot followed, and also bunted.

The runner on first sprinted for second, which he
gained; but Talbot failed to secure first on his bunt.
He was not quick enough, and went out on a hot throw —

e

Steele came to the bat.

Jack Lightfoot had learned that Steele was about
the surest batter on the Tidewater nine; so Jack be-
gan to throw corner cutters, putting them as low a

he could to be safe. ees

 

He'signaled now : ‘
ALL-SPORTS LIBRARY.

| Aner two strikes, Steele picked one of the low balls
‘Wil-
son Crane, in center field, let it get by him, and had

~ up on the end of his bat, and sent it into center.

_ to chase it.
“Lockwood cdme home on this, amid the howls of the
Tidewater fans; and, in spite of the best that Wilson
_ Crane could do to get the ball in quickly, Steele secured

_ third, bag.
. . F ollowing Steele at the batter’s position came Mason

: King, who was also a clever man at the bat.

The “spit ball” got away from Jack Lightfoot now.

_@wice in: succession Mason King found ‘Jack’s

: curves, but each time he knocked a foul.
z © After one of these fouls, when. the ball went back
| from Lafe to Jack, Steele, the runner at third, tried
to go home.
_ apparently careless way, had knocked the ball down for
a bounce, and it had bounced away from him.

Steele did not know that this was but a trick on
Jack’s part to “coax” him to try for the home plate;
he thought it was the “chance of his lifetime,’’ and he
Jack hopped after the ball and shot it
a ‘with a quick motion to Lafe.

flew for home.

Jack always believed that Lafe touched out the run-
ner, and Lafe believed it also; but the umpire, who was
-craning his neck to see, and could hardly do so for the
: dust which Steele kicked up in his slide, declared the
Tunner safe. |

_ The result was ee the score was tied.
“Oh, do you hear that?’ grumbled Ned Skeen.

i “Howling mackerels, do we get a fair show here or

= note’ Se

_ Jack said nothing. He. made it a practice never to
_ kick unless the umpire was so ationy unfair that
: kicking became a duty. *

_ When he wound up again he had regained control of

that treacherous “‘spit ball’ and promptly struck the
batter out and retired the side.

Skeen walked in at Jack’s side, grumbling, declaring
2 that the umpire’s decision was unfair.

- “We want to try to think the umpire is honest,” Jack
urged. “Tt’s a bad thing for baseball playing to con-
_demn the umpire.

_ comes absolutely necessary.”

The chance seemed good, for Jack, in an ~

We'll ae not to do it, unless it be-

Wilson Crane was now the first batter up.

Wilson was always awkward, except when he was
running like a hound; then his long legs ‘seemed to be
just the things he needed, and they took him over the
ground at wonderful. speed.

“Here’s a gum drop for you,”
he sent the ball in. |

It was so sharp a drop that Wilson swatted the air

called Kid Casey, as

above it.
“One strike!” said the umpire. |
Wilson reddened, “hunched his lank shoulders Co
gether, and thrust his head forward.
“And here’s another gum drop, sweeter. :
first,” said Casey, laughing. a : |
It was a drop, like the first, though Crane had rather
expected it would not be, and he got it. !

As Wilson sprinted wildly past first and turned to- oe

ward second—for he had sent the ball into deep left— ~
he observed that the rain cloud threatening over the
mountain had grown blacker in the last few minutes.

The left fielder was slow about getting the ball in,
and the coacher yelled at Wilson to go to third. Wil
son was such a runner that it seemed he had a clrance.
But Wilson knew he would be running toward the
fielder and the ball, so he wisely contented himself at
second.

Phil. Kirtland, who followed Wilson Crane on the
batting list, stepped into position in his usual airy man-
ner, waving his hand lightly toward the benches. _

‘Kirtland, after a strike, secured the ball he wanted,

-and lifted it into center.

As he did so, and Wilson ee wildly for third,
thunder bellowed from the black cloud over the moun-
tain and a spatter of rain fell.

Before Kirtland could reach second, which his hit
enabled him to do, and Crane had crossed the home
plate, the thunder bellowed again, lightning flared in
the sky, and the rain began to fall in a way to drench
the spectators.

They began to pile out of the bleachers and the aay :
stand and to hustle to places of shelter.

A strong wind swept down from the mountain.

The players began to desert the benches.

 
ALL-SPORTS LIBRARY.

Kirtland came to a stop on second base, for the ball
* was coming in.

Then the voice of the umpire was s heard bellowing
across the ball field.

He saw that a brisk rainstorm was on, which would
stop the playing, and as five innings had not been
played he announced “No game!”

‘It seemed a bit tough, just when the Cranford boys

vineting so gloriously into the lead.

But there was no help for it, and as the rain and wind
: began to roar the ball players forsook the diamond and
g scape the wetting that seemed almost in-

CHAPTER Ti,

A STRANGE VISITOR.

When Jack Lightfoot went to bed that night the rain
was still coming down.

The day was Friday, and a half holiday of the Cran-
ford schools. Jack and his friends had expected to go
on an excursion into the woods on Saturday. This had
now been abandoned. Both Cranford and Tidewater
were anxious to cross bats on the diamond and decide
which was the better nine. Therefore, a game had
been arranged for Saturday afternoon.

For that reason, instead of going home, Jack and his
friends had remained in Tidewater. Some members of
the nine had friends or acquaintances there, with whom
they could stop overnight, but Jack had gone to a hotel.

The house was down by the water, with the wharves
and docks near; and as he lay in bed he could hear the
whistle of a boat that was coming in through the thick
darkness

When those sounds died away nothing could be
heard except the tain and wind, and the monotonous
ticking of a clock on the mantel and the light ticking

of his watch under his pillow.
Jack went to turn out the gas im his room before go-
ing to sleep, but the ticking of the clock and the sleepy
feeling produced by the rain caused him to fall asleep
without doing so.
Or did he fall asleep?
Tt did not seem to Jack that he*had been asleep at all.

He thought he had been looking at the clock and listen- .

v

ing to it and to the rain, when, suddenly, a beautiful.
girl stood by his bed looking down at him. a |
Jack was so astonished that he lifted himself in the —

bed and stared at her. .) NO

Fhe girl was sixteen or seventeen years of age, —

though she looked hardly that old. She had a lovely, , |

dark complexion, dark eyes and the most beautiful dark i

hair Jack had ever seen.

As she stood thus before him, coming from he knew a

not where, and could not guess, she put her finger to » =

her lips to command silence.

“Come to that house as quickly as you can,” ce said. ee
She extended a card. : a
Jack took it, looked at it, saw, to his surprise, that

it was blank, and turning it over, saw that the other i
side was blank. oe
“Oh, I gave you a blank!” she said. “Where is my
She fumbled in her dress, as if searching for
“Well, never mind. I think it will be better

I will lead the way, and then ~

pencil?”
a pocket.
if you come with me.
you can’t miss it. And it’s aye important.”
She took the card again.
“What is this for?’ said Jack.
“Aboutsthe ball game.”
“The ball game?”
“Yes, the one you are to play to-morrow. There is.
a plan on foot to throw that game.”
He stared at her.
Was he dreaming?
“Who are you?”’ he asked.
“T will tell you some other time.”
-“But I must know now.

something more. You can tell me who you are and

how you got in here,” .
She laughed and showed beautiful white teeth and —
full red lips, and she seemed more beautiful even than .

before.
“You don’t trust me?”
“T don’t know you.” |
“Then call me Mona. And come with me if you
want to thwart a plan that is being made against your .

team. You want to win that game to-morrow ?”’
“We expect to win it,’

“There's many a slip ’twixt the cup and the lip.”

 

I won't go ples Iknow
ie  ALUSPORTS LIBRARY. 2 | 7

us “But how did you get in?” : “ae
“By way of the door. -
_ He saw that it was open.

“I came in, intending to speak to the clerk. He was

_ asleep. I wasn’t anxious to take him into my con-

fidence, anyhow; so I just looked over the hotel regis-

ter, found the number of your room and came up here.

1 was going to knock, but I saw the shine of the gas
<— through that little transom over the door, and found

door was not locked. And so I came in.”
__~ Jack remembered now that he had forgotten to lock
the door, just as he had forgotten to turn out the gas;
and he remembered, too, that the clerk had been asleep
_ when he left the office to-go to bed.
_ “This is awfully queer !’’ he declared.
_ The girl laughed musically and tossed back her hair
with a little, brown hand on which a ring glittered.

“You must follow me. This is very important. I

can show you something that will open your eyes.

Now lf go out into the hall while you dress. As soon
as you're ready come out there and I’ll take you where
you'll see something that will astonish you.”
She turned, and with feet that seemed light as
feathers she glided from the room.
- Jack sat staring at the door where she had disap-
peared.
: “This is mighty funny!’ was his thought. “Shall
i vl go! ee
_ Curiosity impelled him to get out of bed and hurry
into his clothes.
“When he went to the door he found the girl waiting
for him in the hall.
“Are you ready ?” she asked.
: “Yes, but——”
She again put her fingers to her lips.
“T’m going to ask you to trust me. Don’t I look
honest ?” ,
Staring into hér dark-eyes and smiling face, Jack
= ‘Lightfoot was obliged to confess that she looked
honest.
“Then, come with me”

ie ‘She turned about and walked softly along the hall.

__ When they entered the hotel office he saw the clerk

with head on his breast, asleep in his big chair, just as
he had been before. E
The rain had ceased, but the wind was still blowing,

and as Jaek emerged into the street he heard the waves _

beating and splashing against the abutments and piling
of the wharves. :

Without a backward glance, the girl turned in the |
direction of a line of old, weather-stained buildings
that stretched for a long distance along a dark street.

Jack hesitated, wondering if he was doing the right
thing, and also asking himself if it wouldn't be wiser

to arouse the clerk and tell him. Then the voice of the ’ :

girl reached him through the darkness.
“Aren’t you coming?” ay
-When they had gone some distance she stopped i in
Then Jack heard some .
sounds within the building, like laughter and a ‘
talk. |
The girl begeh to mount the stairs, and soon the

front of an outer stairway.

sounds of her footsteps were lost.

“Where have you gone?” he asked, in a low tone.

When there was no answer, he stood listening.

Then the girl called to him, from some point above.

“Aren't you coming?”

Jack felt a foolish fear—it seemed to him-at least
that it was foolish—as he began to climb the wet, rick-
ety stairway. _
Near by he heard the moaning of the waves as they

lashed and fretted against the piers.

He climbed on and on, yet did not overtake the girl.
Coming out on what seemed to be a landings a flash

of light came to him, and the voices he had heard

4

faintly now reached him with much distinctness.

Before him was a door that had in its upper part two —
long panes of glass. Looking through these he saw the
interior of a small-room with a table and some chairs

in.the middle of it and a closed door at the other side.

- Jack’s thought at first was that the girl had entered |
this lighted room; but what he saw almost made him
forget the girl, so great was his astonishment.

Seated in the chairs and grouped about the table
were the members of The Gang, with Ben Birkett at
the head of the table.

The Gang was composed of Nicholas Flint, Bat Ar-

 
3 : aa SPORTS LIBRARY.

_nold, Jubal Marlin, Orson Oxx and AN een Crane.

They were all Cranford boys, and Jack knew every one
_ of them.

Wilson Crane and Bat Arnold were now, members
of the Cranford nine, of which Jack was captain, and
they had played that day at Tidewater, in the ball game
which the rainstorm had stopped.

Both of these boys Jack had begun to like very an
and he had helped both in different ways.
they had not always borne the best of reputations in

He knew

Cranford, but he believed they had lately been trying to

be straight and honest.
: _ Even Orson Oxx was not, in his opinion, a bad boy.
- But Nick Flint and Bat Arnold Jack knew to be

t if ess than young toughs.

_ Flint was the leader of The Gang; and, being reck-
less and daring, other boys much better than he had
followed him and imitated his little vices, and among
them had been Jube and Wilson.

To find Jubal and Wilson playing cards, drinking
whisky and smoking cigarettes, with the other members
of The Gang would perhaps not have surprised Jack
so much, but for the fact that Ben Birkett was there
with them.

Ben Birkett had been an academy boy, coming to
He had tried to ride rough-
shod over Jack, had been defeated by him in a hotly

Cranford as‘a stranger.

contested ice-yacht race, and being found guilty of try-
ing to throw on Jack the blame of a crime which he had
committed himself, he had left Cranford to escape ar-
rest, and had not been seen there since.

But he had gone away Jack’s deadly enemy, and had
threatened that if ever the chance came to him he would

“do Jack up.”

CHAPTER. TV:
STILL DREAMIN GF *

_ As Jack stood staring at this group seated round the
table in that room three painted and feathered Indians
came through the doorway opposite, gliding into the
room with stealthy steps. |

Their faces were striped horribly, they had head-
dresses of eagles’ feathers, and their moccasins glit-

tered with beadwork.

- More than ever Jack Lightfoot felt that he must oe :
dreaming. He stared with popping eyes. a
None of the boys at the table seemed to know of the ;
presence of these feathered and painted intruders, until a

a brown hand reached over Bat Arnold’s shoulder and — ae

took up the whisky bottle that stood near his elbow.

Then Ben Birkett, who sat where he could see them ~ i

plainly, fell backward out of his chair with a startled

cry, turning his chair over and knocking another bottle a

of whisky to the floor. wt Poy
All the boys jumped up at once. =

Nick Flint made a wild dive toward the door at
which Jack was standing; but one of the Indians inter-

posed and he drew back with'a howl.
Ben Birkett and the other boys had scattered toward

the walls, leaving the Indians in possession of the chairs

and the table. a

Retreating before the Indian who had confronted a

him, Nick Flint was driven back across the room and
found himself with the other boys in a corner, with the
Indians occupying the center of the room and com-

manding the way to the doors.

Jack Lightfoot was so excited he could hardly es
breathe.

=

He remembered that he had come up there on the in- a
vitation of the girl, so strangely given, and he won-

dered somewhat blindly if what he now saw had any- 4

‘thing to do with that invitation; but, at the same time, oe

he had not much room for thought, either of her or the |
invitation, in view of what was occurring right before
his eyes.

“Ugh!” grunted one of the Indians.

He had taken a pull at the whisky bottle and passed — ay

it to one of his companions.
This one took a drink and passed it on.
‘Wen! Ugh!

Each took another drink out of the bottle, and one — s
of them rubbed his stomach, as ff the taste of the

whisky was very good.

Seeing the chairs they dropped into them, and set he ie

whisky bottle on the table.

One, noticing the bottle that had been knocked to He :
floor and broken, picked up the lower half of this bottle, _

 
‘ALL SPORTS TIBRARY | gy

2 which still held some liquor, and setting it to his lips

a drained it of its contents.

_ Now and then the Indians looked at the frightened
‘boys in the corner, and Jack could fancy that the red
men were thoroughly amused by the situation. :

It was very plain that they were pleased with it, ast

oS the whisky especially.

There was some money on the. table in the form of
silver change, for the boys had been playing for money.
These coins one of the Indians scooped up in his brown
palm and dropped somewhere into a pocket.

“Ugh! he grunted. “Good!”

_ As he said it he looked at the boys, as if he thought
they were “good,” and he would like to eat them.
Picking up the cards, one of the red men ran them
- swiftly through his fingers, as if he were a professional
ic gamester. Then he began to deal them to himself and

the other Indians who sat at the table with him.
_It was a singular situation.

_. Perhaps as singular as anything about it, to Jack
a Lightfoot, was that he had not known until then that
: there were any Indians in Tidewater.

Oe had never heard of any being there. A year or

more before some Indian men and women had come
_ down to the Cranford Fair to sell beadwork and basket-
work; but they were not painted and feathered like
these fellows, who, to Jack’s fancy, seemed ready for

po the warpath, though he saw no weapons.

Pe fack was certain that the boys who were huddled to-

_ gether in the corner of the room must be as much sur-
prised as himself, and very much more disconcerted.

: Apparently, they were scared blue.

_ Even Nick Flint, whose peculiar face and staring,
black eyes made him look so much like an Indian, was

evidently badly frightened. Nick stared at the Indians
as if his eyes would fall out of his head.

_ “Here!” Ben Birkett managed to protest at last,
: “that’s my whisky you fellows are drinking!”

_ Ben Birkett’s familiar tones were, in a way, very re-
assuring to Jack. Up to that moment he had asked
“himself if this surely was not a dream, and he, at the
: hotel in bed, with the rain falling with a gentle patter
on the roof and the waves washing against the black

_wharves.

é.-
Yet no fantastic dream he had ever had

equaled it.

“Here, that’s my whisky!” Ben Birkett shouted
again, while the boys who clustered about him moved
restlessly.

The Indian tipped the bottle for a moment over his
copper-colored nose, then set it with a thump on the
table. 7 eS

“Whisk b’long to me now!” he said, and patted his
stomach. ‘You like play cards?”

“‘And those are my cards!” — Birkett. oe thank
you to let ’em alone.” |

“And, by granny, I’d jist like tew know whore yeou

fellers dropped frum?” Jubal queried.

One of the red faces seemed to crack open i in a simile. a

“Injun drop out of sky,” he said.

“By hemlock! I don’t know but yeou did; but I think
you come through that door.”

Ben Birkett, seeing that he was not to be shot or
scalped at once, stepped toward the table, but jumped
back quickly, as one of the noble red men faced toward
him.

“What want?” said this Indian.

“Well, that’s my whisky you’re drinking, and those
I’d thank you to let both alone.”
“You like play cards?” the other Indian asked again.

are my cards!

“Not with you. Where did you come from, any-

way?

you :
The scratch of a match interrupted his words.
A box of cigarettes and some matches were on the,
table, and one of the Indians was trying a cigarette.
“Them’s my cigarettes!” said Wilson Crane.
“T’ank you!’’ said the Indian, blowing a cloud of

smoke from his nostrils.
“But I haven’t given ‘em to you!’’ Wilson protested.

«You lke
play cards? We play you for cigarette and whisk.”

“Ver’ good cigarette,” said this Indian.

Another Indian took a cigarette and lighted it,
scratching the match noisily on the table, so ry that
Jack Lightfoot fairly jumped. _
said Birkett. “Shall we stand: this ?”

His dark face was flushed and his manner angry.
He clinched his fists.

“Fellows,”

 

I was having a little game with my friends, and —
TQ.

%
The Indians seemed not to regard him.

“You no like play card with Injun, eh?’ one of the

red men asked.

He took another drink out of the bottle, as if to
soothe his disappointment...

Jack Lightfoot saw that the liquor was going fast.

He also saw that Ben Birkett was whispering to the
boys.

Suddenly Birkett and Nick Flint led in a wild charge

e red men-seated at the table, with the other boys
e along at their heels.
oe yell likke}a war whoop rolled through the room as
Indians sprang up.
One of them grasped Ben Birkett, and the two came
ae and struggling toward the door where Jack
as finde an amazed witness of all this.

They banged heavily against the door.

Jack felt it give as they struck it; and he knew that
he must seek a place of security, if he did not wish to
be discovered, or take a hand in the fight.

He stepped backward, intending to climb higher up
the stairway, or descend to the street, he hardly knew
which,

As he did so he caught his heel heavily and made
a running backward stumble, striking against the rot-
ten railing of the stairs and tearing it away.

A moment later there was a shattering of glass, as if
a cyclone had struck a greenhouse, and he tumbled
blindly backward and downward with broken glass
raining about him in a tinkling shower.

CHAPTER V.
“MONA -BRIGUHTEVES.

Jack Lightfoot was sure he had stepped backward
through a window.

He had not. much time for thought as he whirled
wildly downward.

He cringed, expecting to strike heavily and receive
broken bones, if not worse.

Yet he was aware that he had shot downward into
light.

Then he landed heavily on his Back, on something so
soft and springy that it shot him-up again, letting him
down with another fall like a bouncing rubber ball.

- think or do.

- ALL-SPORTS LIBRARY.

‘He saw he had fallen on a haircloth sofa, and the —

springs of the sofa breaking his fall had bounced him —

up. | ee a 2

As he rolled over, putting his feet on the floor, ob- aS

serving his hat on the floor before him, where it had

dropped, and seeing broken window glass everywhere,

he saw also the girl who had come so strangely into his

room at the hotel to deliver that equally strange sum-

mons. . i vr

f

Jack was so dazed that he did not know what to

dreaming. He felt that this must be one stage of a
nightmare; that wild tumble through the skylight, and

the sight of those Indians and boys fighting being pre- oe

vious stages of the same nightmare. ©

The lapping rush of water somewhere outside

showed, apparently, that the house was close by the bay

and the wharves.

The room was lighted by a lamp that stood on a_ 4

small table and table and lamp had not been disturbed
by Jack’s spectacular and queer entrance.

Nor did the girl seem as much disturbed as might.
have been expected. -

Jack believed she had been standing up when he fell

into the room, but now she was sitting at a little table,
with the lamp before her,
She was dressed just as he had seen her in that room
at the hotel.
dant, her dark eyes as bright and bewitching,

She was-as beautiful, her hair as abun-

She laughed now as she saw his startled expression ©

and staring eyes.
“You have come!” she cried.
She seemed to be laughing as she said it,
Jack glanced up at the broken window.
His fall had been a long one.

window far above him, and it told him that.

He was almost sure now that he was

He saw the broken :

eS

Yet he was not hurt.

have been caught away from him, so that he could _

hardly breathe.

“T thought when you came you would come through

the door!’’
Jack stared at her.
“Am I dreaming: ?” he asked.

one: What made you danke tate

Only his breath seemed to

she said, still smiling at -his confusion.

 
ALL-SPORTS LIBRARY.

Pry ready to believe anything!’’ he gasped, and put
a hand to his head in bewilderment.

Then he saw on the table by her jeweled hand aipack

- ofcards. He could have believed it was the same pack

OF cards he had seen on the table in that other room.

“Are there Indians in this house?” he asked.
_ She picked up the cards and began to slip them
through her fingers.

‘How absurd you are!’ she exclaimed.

_¢ “But up there—somewhere—not far from here, In-

ia dians were fighting“ with some boys!”

She put down the cards.
“You don’t hear them?”

‘ “No ee

She smiled again.

>

“We'll call that part a dream, then,” she said, mys-

 teriously.

Then she looked at him again, in that strange way

she had, smiled once more, and asked:

“Wouldn’t you like to have your fortune told?”
She slipped the cards deftly through her fingers.
“T tell with cards,” she explained.

ie _ Jack half rose from the sofa, which he ‘had been too

“surprised to do before, but she waved him back; and,

oS as her hand moved he noticed the flash of the ring on

‘ her finger.

\ thought you were enjoying.”

“Vou invited me to come—here, or some place,’ he

— said; “and I’m here! I-saw some boys and Indians

fighting. I’m acquainted with the boys. They must

_ be near here—on the floor above, I think.”
hoe a

“We said we'd call that a part of the dream you

x

5 . t : “Enjoying me

ey es.”
“1 didn’t enjoy it!”
“Oh, you didn’t?”
_ “Tt’s been like a nightmare.”
: “Forget it, then,” she urged; and she showed her

| white teeth again in that rare smile.

_ She slipped the cards again through her fingers.

es “7 said to you that I’m a fortune teller—that’s my
business! My name is Mona—Mona Brighteyes. And

. how Til tell you your fortune, with these cards.”

. “But you said if I’d follow you you'd tell me some-

x
»

re

thing about the ball game about some plan or scheme,
Bo :

He started up again.

“T can’t stay here!’ he cried. “There’s something
wrong about——”’ |

She again motioned him to a seat on the sofa, and
because the whole thing was too singular for words to
express he sank back.

“T told you Id tell you about that scheme. I learned
of it in my trade—that is, fortune telling. Now we'll
see what I’m to tell you about it.” ,

“You're to find out from those cards? You were to
tell me something you knew!” ot

aA

‘VVe'll let the cards tell you.”

“But I am anxious about those boys!’ he declared, * oI

starting up once more.

“That was just a dream.”

“But I saw them!”

“And you saw Indians, you said. Now, you know
there are no Indians in Tidewater!’

Jack dropped back, bewildered.

“But this is real,’ she said, smiling, “very real.”

He did not think he cared to have her go maunder-
ing through any fortune telling mummery; he did not
believe in such fortunes. He wanted to,get at things
in a manner more direct.

“Will you tell me where I am?”

“Tn this house—in this room.”

“But is this the place you wanted me to come to?”
You didn’t take the route I told
you to, but you’re here, and that’s all that’s necessary.”

“The very place.

“You ran away from me, on the stairs!”

a thought you were following close after me,” she
urged.

He stared at her, stared about, and then looked up
at the broken window. He saw the glass scattered on

the floor, and on the sofa.

“Well, I’m all balled up!

dreaming, or drunk.”

It seems to me I must be-

She simply laughed at him and slipped the cards

through her slim fingers.
Then she began to lay the cards in piles.

“Now, [ll tell you your fortune; and then I'll show
you how to get back to that hotel.”

 
i es

Pe" co : - ALL SPORTS LIBRARY.

Tack put his hand to his head. Was he dr eaming?

“In the first place, your name is Casey—Kid Casey,
they call you!’

“You’re mistaken there.”

“You're the pitcher of your nine?” she said, with the
first, show of surprise.

“Yes, but ’'m not Kid Casey; he is pitcher of the
Tidewater nine, while I’m the pitcher of Ue Cranford
nine.’

For a moment she seemed excited, or confused, by
at : ent. Then she smiled again as brightly as
as what I meant. I just got the names mixed

I saw the name Kid Casey
i ark, and Jack Lightfoot on this one, and I
spoke the wr ong name.”

Jack looked at the cards, though he knew full well
there were no names written or printed on them.

“You are Jack Lightfoot?”

Yes,

“We'll~start right,

09 ing at these cards.
eae.

then. Mr. Lightfoot’’—she

slipped the cards through her fingers, and puckered her

brows as she seemed to study them—‘T can see that
there has been a lot of heavy betting on this ball game.
There has been a game played before?” ™

Pes.

“Your side beat the Tidewater nine.”

“That is true enough.”

“And you think they can do it again?”

“T féel pretty sure of it.”

“Well, the Tidewater people don’t think that way;
and because they don’t, they have been betting heavily
on their nine. The men who have been betting against
them—that is, betting for your nine—want you to win,
for they want the money. They feel that they can’t

afford to lose it.’’

She took up another little stack of cards, spread them

out in her hands and puckered her brows.

“This Kid Casey is a fine pitcher.”

“They call him ‘The Wizard Pitcher of the Four-
sat Tack

‘Just so, and the men who have bet on your team

Town League,”
a

are so much afraid of him that they have planned to

kidnap him and hold him somewhere, so that your nine

will be sure to win. ~

Then they will win their bets.
After that they will let him go.” :

She looked at him steadily.

“Perhaps this is none of my business; but I thought
But
it seems to me that you will want to puta stop tothis
work, You will tell this Mr. Kid Casey of the danger — :

he is in, and have him be on his guard against it.

I’d tell you about it. You can do as you please.

You'll be willing to do that, even though his absence ae
from the pitcher’s box at.the time of the game may be’ ae

a good thing for your side?”
“T’ll tell him, all right,’ said Jack.

don’t care to win in any such way as that.

“Tf we win we
And I |
don’t think it’s necessary. We can defeat Tidewater :
without any trickery.”

“Now Pi——”

She began to slip the cards through her-fingers again,
taking up another pile, when the door behind Jack was :
thrown violently open.

He saw Indian forms rushing itpon him, and, rising, —

he tried to pick up a chair and strike the foremost.

But the sofa on which he had been sitting was pushed __ | |

heavily against his legs, knocking his feet from under ~—

him; and then he was stricken to the floor.

He felt himself lifted, and, even while he a
he felt the touch of the fresh outer air against his face.
Then he heard the dash and gurgle of water, and knew
that he had been borne hastily through a EOOE Nay and
thrown down into a bobbing boat. a

Jack seemed to come more clearly to himself at ane
juncture. He struggled with the men who had thrown> _

him into the boat.

One apparently leaped ashore, and the other, after |

_ being struck a cracking blow by Jack’s fist, fell with a a

splash into the water.

A heavy fog had settled over everything, so that now
Jack could not even see the house. He heard voices on
the shore and what seemed to be sounds of another

boat being put into the water.

want to return to it and fall into the hands of those”

fellows dressed as Indians.

He dropped to a seat on a thwart and felt about i an
ihe boat for an oar.

 

He knew he had drifted is
off from the wharf. And he knew, too, that he did nota.
aon!

>. loose.

ALL-SPORTS LIBRARY. | ee

There was none in the boat.
~The sounds from the shore told him he was drifting

| still further out into the fog and darkness. .

Jack’s head began to clear, though he was deathly

sick. He did not care to drift out into the bay in that
_ heavy fog.

That might be a perilous thing to do.
‘There were two thwarts in the boat, and by almost a

_ Superhuman exertion of strength Jack tore one of these

He split it in two by smashing it over the prow

of the boat, and found that one of the pieces would

serve in an emergency for an oar.

With this makeshift oar he began to paddle toward

: : the wharf, heading so that he would not make a landing

near his enemies.
Who was the
fortune teller, where had the seeming Indians come

The whole thing was a puzzle to him.

from, why had they attacked him, and what was Ben

Birkett doing in Tidewater?
As this fellow was his ‘known enemy, he concluded

that Ben would have no good feeling for him, at any
rate, and if Birkett could stir those Indians up against
_ him he would do it.

The noise of the waves told Jack that he was slowly
drawing toward the land. The sounds on the wharf,
indicating an attempted pursuit, were no longer heard.

As he-approached the shore Jack stood up in the

oat, peering ahead, anxious to see what kind of a spot
__ he was to make his landing in.

‘As he did so that terrible sense of sickness and faint-

“mess came upon him again, and he dropped down in
_ the boat, not able to stand.

He thought he felt the boat bump against the wharf,

- put he could not be sure even of that.

"CHAPTER Vi
WAS IT A DREAM?

Jack Lightfoot opened his eyes. He was in his room

at the hotel.

out the gas.

He stared at the gas jet burning close by the wall.

He looked about the room. Everything was just as it
_ had been when he went to bed. \ He had not even turned

The clock ticked monotonously on the

: ‘mantel,

His watch was under his pillow; he heard it ticking.
He drew it out and looked at the time.
“And I went to bed at ten a :
He
was confused. He had gone to bed at ten, dropping

“Two o'clock!” he said.
He sat up in the bed and looked the room over.

to sleep after a brief period of drowsiness during which
he had failed to put out the gas; and he had awakened,
four hours later, in the same bed, in the same room,
with the gas still burning, and everything just as he
had last seen it before falling asleep.

Yet

What had not happened in the meantime? Or had ~ :
“anything happened?

“Gee!’’ “he exclaimed.
been a dream ?” :

He got out of bed, put on his clothes, went to the
window, stared out into the dark and silent street, and
then went into\the hall and on into the hotel office.

The office was deserted, save for the night clerk, and
he was sitting ih his big chair, with his head dropped
forward on his breast, sound asleep.

Jack had seen him in just that attitude when he left
the office, and later when he passed through the office
with the girl.

He stared at the clerk and was almost on the point
of waking him up to question him, when he recognized
that if the clerk had been asleep all the while he could
tell him nothing. |

Jack went back to his room. There was no more
sleep for him that night. /

“T’ll hunt for that house as soon as it is light,” he
“T can find it, if theré is such a house. This
gives me an awfully queer feeling. If that was a
dreani, it was the most vivid dream I ever had in my
Die:

He drew his chair up by the window, and looked into
the street.
lights twinkled.

said.

The rain had ceased, and only a few street

“I shall have to wait.”

Time had never seemed to move so slowly as now.
He thought morning would never come.

As Jack sat by the window, he recalled the singular
things he had seen and heard, or had dreamed. ‘They

 

“Could that whole sicagiee q
BN eee oie

Sere

a ek ALL-SPORTS LIBRARY.

were certainly the queerest ever, he told himself over
and over.

_ As the light in the sky brightened toward day Jack
went again into the hotel office.

The clerk had aroused from his long nap and was
standing behind his desk, looking extremely drowsy.
He recognized Jack, and nodded ina sleepy way.

“Up early!” he said, by way of greeting.

Jack answered.
“T didn’t

“T have been awake nearly all night,”
And then astonished the clerk by adding,

17?

as sleep as well /as you did!
Tee been awake all nee with the exception of one

or two five-minute cat-naps,” the clerk declared, in an

i Offended way.

Thi een Jack knew this was not so, he could under-
y* stand why the clerk did not like to acknowledge that
tie had slept in his chair all night. It was his duty
to remain awake.

“You didn’t see me when I went out?” said Jack.
“It must have been about midnight, as near as I can
judge, when I came through here, and went out into
the street: and some time after that, but before two, I
came back. I saw you sitting in your chair asleep.”

“You know more than I do, then!” said the clerk,
testily.

“You didn’t notice anything at all strange during
the night?” Jack now inquired.

The clerk gave him a questioning look, no doubt
wondering what he was driving at.

No, |. didn't.
And I don’t believe you was out of your room.”

It was rainin’, and the night was
quiet.
Jack laughed. He was not sure himself that he
had been out of his room.
He passed on to the street, and looked about.
The sun had not risen as yet, and there was a good

deal of mist coming in from the water. Still, he could

see quite plainly, and he walked in the direction he had:

taken, or fancied he had taken, in the night.

He found the long row of weather-stained houses,
all alike gloomy and forbidding.
them the previous day, as he proceeded to this hotel,
so he knew they were there.

Yet, when he tried to pick out the house in which

He had observed

he had seen such sights and heard such ak things,
he failed.

The houses were too much alike; and nearly all of
them had those half-rotten stairways reaching from the
outside to an upper landing.

At that landing the stairs disappeared, opening on a
doorway; and beyond that. doorway Jack could not
See: | |

He wanted to take house after house, enter them,
and make an inspection; but it was apparent that none ~
of the occupants were yet up, and he was not at all
sure they would welcome such an inspection if they s
were up.

After walking back and forth for some time along
that row of dark houses and making no discovery, with
the events of the night now seeming more than ever
like a dream to him, Jack returned at last to the little
hotel, :

There he found Lafe Lampton in the office, in com-
pany with Ned Skeen.

“Come into my room,” he said, “I’ve got something :

°

I want to-talk to you about.”

When they were in his room, he told them the whole ~ A a

story, just as it is known to the reader.
when Jack

closed, as he had gasped a dozen times while Jack was —

“Howling mackerels!’ Skeen gasped,
telling the tale.
“Jiminy crickets, but that stumps me!”

an apple, which he did not find.
“Did I dream it?” Jack asked. ‘
“Well, we can find out what Jube and Wilson know

about it, if they know anything,” said Skeen.

“And we can find out if there are any Indians in’

town,” Lafe added.
He turned to the door, and the other two boys fol-

“Tl ask that stupid clerk.”

lowed him.

“Say,” said Lafe, planting himself in front - he
railing, behind which he now found the clerk,

there any Indians in Tidewater ?”

39

“Never heard of any,” said the clerk, gruffly.
He had not forgotten that Jack had accused him
of being asleep on duty, and his tone was not gracious. _ :

“You don’t think there are any in town?”

 

Lafe ad |
mitted, thrusting his hand into his pocket in search of
yey

a
ae

a fessed.

~ ALL-SPORTS LIBRARY.

“T know there ain’t?”

“You don’t know a girl, or young woman, named
Mona Brighteyes?’ said Skeen,

The clerk looked now as if he thought these boys

must be crazy, or making sport of him,

“Are you fellows tryin’ to be funny ?” he demanded.

“No, we're serious,” said Jack. “We just want to
know.”
_“T never heard of any such person.”

“You're well acquainted here?’

“Yes; but there are a good many people in this town

that I never even heard of.”

“This girl is a fortune teller,’ Jack explained.
“Never heard of her!’’ said the clerk.
to keep track of such cattle,”

He scowled, and took up the morning paper, which

had just been brought in.

“We'll go out and take a look at those houses,”
Skeen suggested.

“And we'll see if we can find where you made that
said Lafe.

“Tm not sure I made any landing at all,” Jack con-

landing,”

“T turned dizzy and. sick, and after that I

: didn’t know anything, until I woke up in bed.”

“Old fellow, you must have dreamed that whole
said- Lafe.
iS, when you think about it.

thing,” “You'll see how unreasonable it

A girl you’d never seen

_ comes and stands by your bed in the night, and tells

' you to follow her, because she’s got something im-

portant to tell you about your ball team. You follow

a some Cranford boys.

her, and lose sight of her somewhere on a stairway.
Then you see Ben Birkett, who isn’t within hundreds
- of miles of here, sitting at a table playing cards with

After that, painted and feath-

ered Indians come into that room—just the kind a

Indians have a fight.

= icliow reads about, all glittering and shining with

feathers and beads and all that and the boys and the
You retreat, and fall through

2 window, and after shooting down about a mile, you

“grab you, hammer you, throw you into a boat, and ©

_ land with a bump on a sofa; and there that girl is, sit-

She
“tells you your fortune, and all that rot about Kid

ting at a table, with more cards in front of her,

Casey ; and while she’s doing it the Indians rush in,

“I don’t try

_ you drift out into the bay. You haven’t a paddle, and

tear up one of the seats and make that into a paddle;
and then you fall down dizzy in the boat. Then you
wake up in your room, and everything is just the same
as it was before you went to sleep. Oh, say that was_
a dream, all right—a regular old nightmare, and noth-
ing else!”

Ned Skeen was ready to express the same opinion.

And even Jack Lightfoot, as he scanned those houses
and hunted vainly for the place where he fancied: he
had approached the shore in a boat in the darkness, was
ready to admit that it must have been all a dream, “a
as Lafe had said. ae

“We'll go and see what Jube and Wilson say about
it;’ said Skeen.

regular old nightmare,”

Jubal and Wilson were not stopping at the

hotel which Jack and his two friends had récerte to,

but had gone to stay overnight with a certain Mrs.

Osterman, who was an aunt of Wilson.

The Osterman home was still dark, when they
reached it, and they were forced to turn back to the
hotel, to await a later hour.

“Oh,
dently.

it was a dream—a dream!” said Lafe, canhe

” said Skeen.

“It may have been a dream,” Jack admitted, ‘but

“A hair-raising one,

I never in my life had a dream that seemed so real as
that. I’m not going to stop until I know for sure.”

Yet it seemed almost foolish to continue the search.

Kid Casey and some members of his nine were stop-
ping at this hotel, but they were not up, so Jack could
not interview them. He recalled the warning given by
the girl, but he wassot yet ready to go to Casey with
that warning, rout him out of his bed, and be laughed
at for his pains.

Jack knew that if his experiences of the night should
turn out to have been only a dream, the boys of his
nine, the Tidewater nine, and’ the people of Cranford
and Tidewater as well would jolly him without
mercy; and Jack was a boy who did not like any too

well to be laughed at for so serious a thing as that.

 

“They're probably awake by NOW’, 4
ALL: SPORTS LIBRARY.

CHAPTER Vd.
THE SEARCH CONTINUED.

When, after an early breakfast, Jack again started
with his friends for the Osterman home, Kid Casey
was still asleep in his room, the hotel clerk reported.

Jack had for added company now Nat Kimball, Phil
Kirtland and Tom Lightfoot, to whom he had told his
singular story.

Though all showed
laughed rather | ironically when he heard that queer tale.
he said, “you’re a good deal of a
- dreamer, anyhow, do you know it?”

e 4 “Li ghtfoot,’

t way?” Jack asked.

ell in fancying, for one thing, that people have

“Schemes of some kind or other up their
f wonder that you dreamed it was Kid Casey
see was in danger, instead of yourself.”

Jack’s face flushed, more at the sneering tone which
Kirtland used than because of the words.

“Tt was no dream, when Ben Birkett tried to lay on
me the crime of burglary and of chopping his ice boat
to pieces.”’

“Yet two or three times you have charged me with
wanting to do things against you that I never thought
of doing.”

“Whenever I have done so, and found out my mis-
take, I’ve always acknowledged it, haven’t I?”

Kirtland waved his hand airily.

“And that isn’t saying, Kirt, that you’re any too
~ good to do some of the things Jack charged you with!”
said Lafe Lampton, with some show of irritation.

“Ah! Lafayette, I wasn’t whispering in your direc-
tion, I believe! When I speak again I'll turn my head,
so that you'll be sure [ don’t mean you.”

But Tom Lightfoot, looking eartlestly at his cousin,
had another thought altogether in his mind. He re
membered very well when Jack, after having been
given a knockout blow on the head by a relative of
Phil Kirtland, had, many days later, tumbled into the
snow in a dead faint, and had been accused of intoxica-
tion because of his condition, produced by that blow.
Jack had told of the strange dizziness and sickness he
_ had felt then; and now he had told a similar SrOry of
dizziness and faintness.

interest in it, Kirtland had _

Thus thinking, Tom wondered if Jack's: head was
not just a little bit out again. If so, then it was not
a dream, nor a nightmare, but a recurrence, in a new
way, of that old head trouble. And if that was true,
Jack had been in bed all the time—there had been no
boat, no fortune teller nor Indians, and no Ben Birkett,
but the whole thing was imagination.

He saw that Jack looked pale and troubled.

“How is your head, now?” he asked. “Have you
had any more of those dizzy and sick spells?”

“T feel all right, since we had breakfast.”

They reached the house they sought, rang the bell,
and when Mrs, Osterman came to the door they asked
for Wilson and Jubal.

Her face showed surprise.

“Why, they didn’t stay with me at all last night,’
she said. “They told me they were going over to your
hotel, and that if they did not come back, for me not
to worry, as that would show they had concluded to —
remain there for the night.”’

“T don’t think they came to the hotel,’ said Jack,
“but we went to bed rather early. We'll look them up.”

“They must have stopped at some hotel,” said the
woman, “for they didn’t come back here.”

“Howling mackerels, what do you think of that?”
Ned, Skeen asked, when the door had closed on Mrs,

|
Osterman, and they were ready to walk away.

Phil Kirtland wiggled his hand skeptically.

“That doesn’t signify anything. They’rea couple of —
wild colts, and they didn’t want her to know where
they stayed last night.”

But as the morning wore away, and neither Wilson —

nor Jubal showed up, even Kirtland began to think )

there was something mysterious here.

It began to seem that Jack Lightfoot had indulged :

in no wild rides on a nightmare, but had seen ae s
heard strange and unaccountable things.

Yet Jack could not determine which of those dark

houses by the water side he had entered, nor the spot — :
on the wharf toward which in the darkness his boat

had drifted.
They searched the town for Ben Birkett, going from _
hotel to hotel, There were not 5

many hotels in Tidewater, and this was no great job.

making inquiries.

ae

 
i: had his breakfast and had gone out.

ALL-SPORTS LIBRARY.

] When returning from one of these searching trips,
- they were met by one of the Tidewater boys, with this
ae question :

“Say, have you fellows seen | anything of Kid Casey
oe this motning e”

Casey, too, was missing!

Jack now told this member of the Tidewater nine
: the story of his “dream,” or experience, or whatever
it was. |

aT intended to come and warn you fellows,” he said,
: apologetically, “but I wanted first to be sure that the

_ thing was real. I was. afraid ng ‘d laugh at me, if it

fae turned out that I only dreamed it.’

The eyes of the Tidewater boy had rounded in co.

‘ ishment.

he admitted.
I just couldn’t

“By crackey, that’s queer, anyhow!”
-“T don’t know that Casey’s missing.

2 find him; and when I asked you fellows I thought
_ maybe you'd seen him somewhere.’”

“Was he at breakfast this morning ?” Jack inquired.
“T don’t know. I got down late. I supposed he had
Come over to
the hotel and we'll look into this thing.’’

When they reached the hotel they were given an-

» other surprise.

‘Some members of the Tidewater nine were gathered
on the steps, reading a letter, and when they saw Jack
Lightfoot and his companions they looked angry and
even belligerent.

“What do you say to that, Lightfoot?” one of them
demanded.

He thrust the letter under Jack’s nose, shaking it
rote
This is what the letter contained:

_ “Dear Jim: Refuse to play the Cranford nine this
afternoon. I have been kidnaped, by the orders of
Jack Lightfoot, I feel sure, and ‘am to be held until
after the game. The Cranford nine are afraid of our
nine, and are especially afraid to stand up against my
pitching. They don’t want to be beat this afternoon.
The storm saved them yesterday, and they’ve taken
this plan to save their face to-day. I wish I could tell
you where I am held, but I’m blest if I know myself.
All IT know is, I’m in a room, somewhere, and the door
is locked, and I can't get out. Maybe I can get this
Your friend. Kip Casey.”

lose your head, Jack; don’t lose your head!

Jack read this over with a stare of astonishment,
as did also the friends who were with him.

The Tidewater boys looked at them accusingly.

“Well, what have you got to we Jim Lane de-
manded wrathfully.

“That it’s all a mistake,” said Jack.

The Tidewater boy who kad met Jack and his
friends, and to whom Jack had told his story of the

?

“dream,” now looked at Jack with suspicion.

“You don’t know anything about this?” said Lane.

“Not a thing. But I'll tell you all I do know, as I’ve
already told your friend here. You may not believe it;
but it’s the truth, if I ever spoke it.”

“Did Kid Casey write that?’ Tom eee now
demanded of Jim Lane. "
“No, and that’s the only queer thing about it,” Lane :
confessed. “It ain’t his handwriting.” 3

“How did you get it?” said Jack.

“A boy brought it a while ago, pitched it down
there, and then scooted. I’d know him again, if I saw |
him, though.”

“T think Casey has been kidnaped,” Jack admitted;
“and now I'll tell you why I think it, and why I think
that some heavy betting done by some one is at the
bottom of the whole thing. If we don’t play, that will
call off the bets; and for that reason I, too, say, let’s
not play at all this afternoon, even if the people are
expecting us to.”

Jim Lane looked at him closely and again at the
writing, after Jack had told his story. His face blazed,

as he crumpled the paper savagely in his hand.

“Lightfoot,” he shouted, “‘you’re an infernal liar!

That whole story is too thin!”

Jack’s head grew hot, for he was quick-tempered.
With a cry gurgling from his lips, he leaped at Lane,
and would have knocked him down, if Lafe Lampton
had not caught his arm.

“Take it back!” Jack shouted, while his eyes flamed.

“Here—here!” said Lafe, clinging to him; “don’t

42?

“Oh, let him come on!” said Lane, whose face was
still flushed.

Lightfoot couldn’t have done that alone.

“All of you fellows are into this thing.

And it shows
that you are afraid to meet us this afternoon.”

 
ALL. SPORTS ‘LIBRARY.

ven Phil KoAlaad: who did mot like Tack any too

well, was not pleased with this.
Jack
knew that if a fight began there it'would involve every-

Jack drew back, tugged at by Lafe Lampton.

one present; and that would have made a disgraceful
exhibition on the Tidewater streets.

Nevertheless, his pulses were leaping unpleasantly.

Looking Jim Lane straight in the eyes, he declared the
innocence of himself and his friends, in words that
_ bubbled with indignant wrath.

J Wel Tl loc Xk into the thing,”
And we'll look into it,” said Jack, hotly.

said Lane.

! there, Lane, don’t get gay!” cried Kirtland,
‘his hand. “I think there’s a bit of mystery

nyself; but, just the same, we're worse off, it

than you are, for we’re out two good

you're out but one.”

It was something of a stretch of candor for, Phil
Kirtland to assert that Wilson Crane and Jubal Marlin
were good players.
that Wilson Crane was worthless on the diamond, for
he did not like the doctor’s son.

“So, perhaps, you'll conclude that you want to play
s,’ he went on. “If you do, we’re yours to com:
mand.”

“If you don’t know anything about this, Jack,” said

“tell me what this letter means?”
“T wish I could,” said Jack, “but I can’t.
We'll help you to

make a search for Casey. That’s the best we can do.

Lane,

ready told you everything I know.

Strange as the thing seems yet to me, I’m sure now that
was no dream I had last night, but that it really hap:
pened.” |

Yet the Tidewater boys were not all ready to be-
lieve this.

The members of the two nines separated, to begin
in their own way a search for the missing pitcher of
the Tidewater team.

“While we’re hunting we'll try to find those queer
Indians and that lovely fortune teller,” said Kirtland.
“Was she so good-looking, Jack, that you fell in love
with her?’

“I thought she was about the handsomest girl I

Ordinarily he would have declared

I’ve al-.

thought it was eighteen.

ever saw, ’ Jack acknowledged

“And if she’s sa

town I'd like to see her again.” Vee ey

i
i
;
}

Jack turned to enter the hotel.

“Come in,” he said to his friends, and they fdlowed 3

him. : |
“T want to examine the hotel register, for en idea
has come to me. You remember I said that girl told.
mg she had looked over the register and found the
number of my room, and that afterward she called me
Kid Casey?”
OME yess

in that way!

said Tom; “I hadn’t thought ¢ of that,
“We'll take a look.”

The night clerk had given way to another man, cn
knew nothing of the thoughts that were fomenting in
the minds of the boys, and he gave them no attention,
as they scanned the register. | :

Jack’s finger fell on the page where his name ap-
peared.

“You see I was assigned to room number eight, on
the first floor.
did, for his name appears on the next page, showing
And, look there!’

He pointed to Casey’s name, and to the room num-

that he registered later.

ber marked against it.

“His room is number eighteen—mine is number
eight; and both are on the same floor, Now, I have a
theory.”

“So have 1,”

“Out with it! cried Lafe.

said Tom.

“The girl was in a hurry. She saw Kid Casey’s
name and number eighteen, and that the room was on —
the first floor. She hurried along the first floor hall,
and either got the numbers eight and eighteen mixed,
or gave a quick glance at the number on my door and ~
Evidently :

she intended to call Casgy out and warn him; but mis- —

She came in.

taking my door for his, and finding it unlocked, she
called me out.”

Tom stood looking at the register and scratched” a

the side of his nose thoughtfully.

Lafe Lampton had now a supply of se and he :
began to nibble at one, as if he thought that would
grease the wheels of his mental machinery.

 

Kid Casey came to this hotel after I a
oe ee - ALL-SPORTS LIBRARY.

: “But, howling mackerels, why did she want to call
anybody out?” said Skeen. “Why didn’t she tell you

' right there?”

SSE SRE eee eee: eres
i ES f ae ene eae

make-believe Indians, maybe.

him that warning,’ Jack admitted, regretfully.

“I don’t know,” Jack confessed.

“Well, fellows, it’s too late to warn Kid Casey now,”
said Kirtland. “The first act in the great drama has
been played. Casey is in the hands of—somebody—
It’s the old Boston tea

party over again.”

“T ought to have called him up right away and given
“But

we'll do what we can now to find him.”

CHAPTER: Viit.
AT THE BAULIPIELD.

The Tidewater Tigers, as the Tidewater baseball

| nine was called, were “mad clean through.”

They declared that Jack Lightfoot and members of

his nine had kidnaped Casey from his room in the

i ~hotel in the night, and were holding him somewhere,

’ because they were afraid of his pitching.

In proof of their assertions they produced the letter
which bore Casey’s name. Though it had not been

written by Casey, for it was not in his handwriting,

__ they explained that by saying his captors had prob-
ably not permitted him to write it, and he had bribed
“some one to write it for him and convey it to his

a friends. They told of the boy who had delivered it,
ea .. and then had scudded, and a search was made for that

, _boy.

_ They asserted, moreover, with much vehemence, that

yin spite of this bit of trickery on the part of the Cran-

_ ford nine they would meet Cranford on the diamond

that afternoon.

E Not only did the Tidewater Tigers spread this about

the hotel, but it got into the Tidewater newspaper, a

~ little daily which came out as an evening sheet, with a
special edition a short time before the game was to be

called.

As the newsboys rushed about crying this edition, it

was snapped up eagerly, and everywhere people were
_ reading the story of the accusations made against
: ‘Lightfoot and his friends from Cranford.

ce ‘Asa result, a roaring crowd of angry baseball fans

swarmed out to the diamond, denouncing the Cran-
ford boys and looking in the mood to make trouble.

Jack and his friends had made an ineffectual search
for Kid Casey, for Jubal Marlin and Wilson Crane,
for the fortune teller and the Indians, and had found—.
nothing.

The people of the hotel and the town laughed at
them, whenever they said “fortune teller,’ or “Tn-

dians.” The idea that there were, or had been, In-
dians togged up in feathers and war paint in Tide-
water was considered a good joke. And Jack ‘Light-
foot was thought to be possessed of unlimited “gall,”
and “‘cheek,” for concocting such a yarn.

Jack was undeniably worried and puzzled.

Some of his friends were fighting mad. They did
not like to have it.flung constantly in their faces that
they were afraid to meet the Tidewater Tigers, and :
were so afraid of the Tidewater pitcher that they had
kidnaped him to get him out of the way. |

Saul Messenger, who had come over from Cran-
ford as a substitute, “mixed” with some of the Tide-
water boys two or three times that forenoon because
of this, and other fights, and threats of fights, were
reported.

“Shall we play them, fellows?” Kirtland asked.

Kirtland was himself in no good humor. As a Cran-
ford boy, he had been treated with a good deal of in-
dignity, he considered. He forgot now his half-con-
cealed enmity of Lightfoot, and was ready to stand
by Jack in this trouble with Tidewater. :

“Shall we play them?’ said Ned Skeen. “You

(7?

bet we'll play them

“And we'll defeat them, too!’ cried Nat Kimball,
puffing out his chest. “Oh, say, I hope I can play
on the dine this atierioond”

Jack went down to the ball field, in the midst of his
nine and the substitutes. He was troubled about Jubal
and Wilson. Mrs. Osterman, having heard the story
of their strange disappearance, was on the verge of

hysterics.

 
ALL-SPORTS LIBRARY.

“It serves ’em right!” said Tom Lightfoot, “What
were they mixing in with Ben Birkett and that crowd
for ?”

“Here come the kidnapers!’’ the Tidewater fans
roared, as Jack and his friends came upon the field.

Nat Kimball had brought down the parrot.

“So long as they didn’t steal the mascot we're all
right,” he said. “I wonder they didn’t take that. Fel-
. lows, if they had that would have rattled me.” |

¢ Tidewater rooters broke forth in their cries

: moe ire Boing to play, are you?” said Jim Lane, ap-
proaching Jack.

. Saul Messenger thrust forward his angular face and
pugilistic jaw, and humped his thick shoulders.

He was wishing he might have permission to punch
Jim Lane’s head. Saul loved a fight quite as well as
Lafe Lampton did an apple.

“We're willing to play you, and that’s what we’re

here for,’ Jack answered. “If we refused, you de-

mand that the umpire should give the game to you on -

that account. Don’t trouble yourself to think that we'll.

refuse.”

“I suppose you still claim that you don’t know any-
thing about what’s become of Casey ?”

_ Jack looked Lane in the eye.

“Lane,” he said, quietly, “we're not down here for
a fight, but to play ball; yet if you fellows are bound
to have a fight we'll not refuse that either. I’ve told
you a dozen times that I know nothing about that busi-
ness.”

“Would we steal away our own men?” said Mes-

“Would

we do that, hey? Two of our men are gone, as well as

senger, shaking his shock of yellow hair.

your friend Casey. And other of the Cranford boys

are missing.”

/

“T wasn’t talking to you!” snarled Lane. “I stippose

ones who are holding Casey. That’s my opinion,
anyway.”

Saul seemed about to lunge at him. |

More people were coming upon the ball field. | There.

was a promise of a record-breaking crowd. The star-
tling story contained in that newspaper extra had
flashed all over the town, which was in a ferment

because of it; and hundreds, who otherwise would not

have attended the game, were now streaming toward.

the grounds.

“Come away,” said Lafe, catching Saul by the arm.

your friends and those other Cranford fellows are the =.

Lafe could fight, and fight hard, when it was neces- _

sary; but he did not love a scrimmage for its own

sake, any more than Jack Lightfoot did. -Saul Mes- =

senger loved a fight just for the sake of the fighting. —

Jim Lane turned away, but stopped to throw this
back at the Cranford boys:
_ “We're badly crippled by the loss of Casey; but-we
can beat you fellows all right without him, and that’s
what we intend to do.”

“Talk is cheap!” said Jack, scornfully.

CHAPTER 1X,

BASEBALL.

A Tidewater pitcher named Joe Bowers took the

place of the missing Casey, and Jack put in two sub-

stitutes Saul Messenger and Connie Lynch.

These were the names and positions of the players, — ae

as given to the umpire.

TIDEWATER,

_ Ben Bartlett, rf. -
Ben Talbot, ss.
Joe Bowers, p.
Silas Cross, 1st b.
Jim Lane, c:
Paul Lockwood, If.
Sidney Talbot, ei:
George Steele, 3d b.
Mason King, 2d b.

4

CRANFORD.

Tom Lightfoot, 2d b.
Brodie Strawn, Ist b.
Mack Remington, rf.
Jack Lightfoot, p.
Lafe Lampton, c.
Phil Kirtland, 3d b.
Saul Messenger, cf.
Ned Skeen, ss.
Connie Lynch, lf.

setts

oe

Connie Lynch was a Cranford boy, of course, and

 
PAU SPORTS TIBRARY 0 oe

_a student at the Cranford Academy. He was a blue-

- eyed, red-faced Irish lad, and a fair ball player.

“IT guess we can give these Tigers all they want,”

said Kirtland, when the nine had been filled and the

: “batting positions decided on. ‘They'll be crying for

| Casey sure enough before we get through with them.”

“We'll try to give a good account of ourselves,” said

Jack. “But I wish Casey was here, to go in the pitch-

Sef s DOX.”’

“He has no right to play on the Tidewater nine at

\ all,” said Skeen. ‘“He’s a professional, and we know .

© it, though we haven’t been able to stack up the proofs.”
“Play ball!” cried the umpire.
__ And the game began, with the ball ground swarm-
= ing with people, and grand stand as well as bleachers
~ stuffed to suffocation. |

Joe Bowers was in the pitcher’s box, for the Tigers
had elected to go first irito the field. Bowers was not
| such a pitcher as Kid Caseg, but he was pretty good ;
and he was resolved to strike out Tom Lightfoot, who

_was the first batter up, and thus show the spectators

_ what he could do.

He secured two strikes on Tom, which was proof

- enough that he was not a poor substitute for the great

Casey; and then Tom hammered the sphere into left.

_ Paul Lockwood, who was playing left field, let the
ball get by; and, as it was a hot grass cutter, it went

_‘deep into the field, with Paul chasing after it like a
dog after a- rabbit.

Tom went to second on that hit; gud a tite tater
was clever enough to filch third. -
Ned Skeen, sitting in the benches, was making Polly
tune up at a great rate over this cheerful beginning
of the game.

a Brodie Strawn, the next man at the batting plate,
4 was a hard hitter. He had even feazed the great
si Casey himself.

Joe Bowers was afraid of Brodie. ,

He began to throw corner caters sending in two.
which were wide and denominated “balls.”

Then he put one over.

Brodie hammered that one out, bringng Tom Light-
foot home, and gaining second himself. :

“FTa-ha-ha—hah-hah-hah !” squalled the parrot,
under Nat Kimball's coaxing. “Hurrah for Cran-
ford!’ :

And the Cranford rooters yelled for their home |
team. : |
Macklin Remington took up Old Wagon Tongue.

“Pap says that the way to do a thing is to do it,” he

declared, thumping the ground in front of him with-

’ the bat as he stepped into position.

Macklin finally connected, sending the ball as ; Ahi
fly to center. :

“Outfield hit!’ yelled the umpire.

Brodie Strawn, on second, held his base, hoping that
the fielder would muff the ball, but he clung to it, and
Mack Remington was out.

Then Jack Lightfoot came into position, cheered by 2
the friendly fans in the bleachers and by the yelping of
Polly.

Joe Bowers began again to send corner cutters, and
two “‘balls” were called.

One of these wide ones got through the hands of
Jim Lane, the catcher, and Brodie Strawn, the base
runner on second, started for third. ®
He

secured the ball by a quick leap, whirled round as if

But Jim Lane was not a man to trifle with.

on steel springs, lined the ball hotly to third, and
Brodie was out. |
“Now she’s going into the bay,” said Skeen, as Jack

threw himself again into batting position.

A long, high drive into left field might, by a rare

chance, send the ball into the bay; yet such a thing -
did not often happen on that diamond.

Jack did not try to knock the ball into the bay ; but,
with two men out, he felt that he must do something,

and he did—he secured a three-bagger.

 
“would steady Lafe’s nerves.

me

As he ran the bases, the Cranford fans again howled
and Polly cackled.

“Now she goes into the bay, sure enough!’ cried
Skeen, as Lafe Lampton took up Old Wagon Tongue.

Lafe swung, but hammered the air.

“One strike!” ,

Joe Bowers had “taken a brace.’’
_Lafe swung again.

“Two strikes?’
_Lafe’s fair face flushed and his sky-blue eyes looked

troubled, ‘as he glanced at Jack on third.

Yay ith a hesitating motion he now put his hand into

“his trousers pocket and brought out a small apple.

is he bit into, as the ball was going back to the

he Cranford fans laughed loudly when they saw

_ that.

Yet, when understood, it was not a queer thing at.

all.
to do that very thing.

Jack Lightfoot had signaled to Lafe from third
Jack knew that it would raise
a laugh among the spectators. He thought perhaps it
But the laugh was what

Jack wanted.

Tom Lightfoot, who had gone down to third to
coach Jack in, had also received a signal from Jack
at the same time.

_ While Lafe was still chewing at his bite of ,apple,
and the fans were laughing and cheering, Tom Light-

(2?

foot yelled suddenly for Jack to “go home!
The pitcher, standing in his box with the ball in his

hands, whirled, when he heard that, expecting to see

Jack flying along the base line from third toward the

home plate. He was startled, and the ball slipped out

of his hands.
Jack was already well off the base; and when he

saw the ball roll out of the pitcher’s hands he sprinted

-at his best speed.

The‘rattled pitcher caught up the ball and shot it
to Lane.

_ ALL-SPORTS LIBRARY,

Plunk! went the ball in Lane’s mitt.

Jack had thrown himself at the rubber; the erotnd ©

was damp from the recent rain, and he came like a
toboggan shooting downhill.

Lane tried to touch him out.

He failed.

Jack’s outstretched hand was on the plate.

Toes

Lafe swallowed his bite of apple; then slugged the
ball into outfield.

“Outfield hit!” said the umpire.

The outfielder got under the ball, collected it, and
Lafe was out.

The side was out.
Yet two runs had been made.

CHAPTER XS
JACK LIGHTFOOTS HEROISM.

_ Jack struck out three mefi, in one, two, three order.

But when the Cranfords came again to the bat their

luck deserted them. Joe Bowers seemed to have found ©

his gait, the fielders were equal to whatever came their °

way; and again Cranford went out.

In the third, and in the fourth, the Tidewater Tigers

pulled a runner across the plate.

The score was tied.

“Oh, we don’t need Casey!” one of the Tidewater a

men shouted.

and larrup you without him.”

When Jack Lightfoot came to the bat in the fifth —

two men were out, and two men on bases.

As Jack faced Joe Bowers, and the runners began oo

“You stole him; but we can get along _

- 4)

a a

to dance off second and first, Jack resolved to risk

a ball in deep right, if he could put it there, in the hope

that he could bring one of these runners in, for he y =

was anxious to put his team again in the lead.

Jack let a ball go Dy, while the runners played oft

the bases and the coachers chattered.

 
‘

 

erie ce
x

~~ ALL-SPORTS LIBRARY. _

- Joe Bowers wound up to send in the ball again, and
Jack lifted his bat. |

} i. As Jack drew back to swing at this ball, which he

_ believed he could get, he saw, out of the corner of his
_” eye, a horse dash up to the crowd near the foul lines,

drawing an open vehicle,
_ Jack had no time for thought, yet in that half glance
he saw, seated in the vehicle, the girl who had been in

hus thoughts all day,

| ~ She was shouting to the spectators,

That, if nothing else, must have drawn Jack’s atten-
tion. | |
He was swinging at the ball, in the hope of sending

it into left; but the start which the appearance there

- of that girl gave him caused him to draw his bat

| if the hand of fate guided it,

around.

= He struck the ball a terrific blow, and it seemed as

Perhaps the fact that Jack could not help glancing

_ at the girl as he delivered his stroke pulled the ball in

_ her direction.

: her.

It shot off the bat, and flew like a rifle builet toward

bo: = Jack thought it was going to strike in the buggy.

_ Instead, it struck the horse on the head.

The animal was already excited by the furious pace

with which the girl had driven him up to the crowd;

: she had advanced at a wild gait, lashing him with the

- ‘ buggy whip; and he had stopped, foaming and rearing.

_ It may be said here, there was one other thing Jack

. Lightfoot had not seen. It must be remembered that

it was but a glimpse of the girl and the horse and

vehicle that he caught anyhow, as his bat swung. That

: other thing was the fat, round body of Orson Oxx,

: who tumbled to the ground from the seat beside the

girl, as the vehicle dashed into the crowd.
_ When the ball struck the horse in the head, there
: was ‘a wild and frantic commotion in the midst of the

+S) ectators, while the horse reared, |

25

They spread apart, seeking places of safety, fairly

treading each other down as they scattered.

That blow’ on the head; given by the ball, had so _

frightened the already startled horse that he became a

at once unmanageable, He was a spirited brute, any-
way, being a thoroughbred used only to kind treat-
ment..: |

He reared straight up, throwing out his fore feet,

threatening to topple over on the scared people. The

‘girl dropped the reins, and seemed to lose her head. ;

Her face paled, and it could be seen that she was thor!

oughly frightened. #

The horse wheeled, plunging and rearing, and was
about to mow a swath through the scurrying throng

of spectators, when Jack Lightfoot and some of the

other players rushed at him.

Jack reached the horse first, and with a panther-like
jump got hold of the bridle.

The horse plunged and reared, lifting Jack from the
ground, and tossing him with a whipping motion into
TAG Alte

But Jack Lightfoot, now that he had set his fingers
on the bit, clung like a bulldog.

A great roar of excitement was going up.

Again the horse tried to dash forward, cramping

the vehicle round, and then trying to straighten out in ~

a direct course.

Jack did not release his hold. In spite of the ter-

rific plunging of the frightened thoroughbred he held
on grimly, realizing that his weight would quickly tell.

Phil Kirtland, Brodie Strawn, Tom Lightfoot, Lafe
Add-

ing theit weight and strength to his, they held the

Lampton, and others, came to Jack’s assistance,

plunging horse, and the girl climbed to the ground, ©

sliding out over the wheel.
A great crowd surged toward the little group.
On the fore front. of this crowd, as if he were a

round log thrown forward by it, came Orson Oxx.

a ‘

 
-
: Orson, it will be récatied was a member of the
Gang, and Jack had seen him with Birkett, Crane and
Jubal, in that room to which the Indians came so mys-
teriously. :
Oxx’s fat face was as white as a sheet and his fat
body trembled like a bow] of jelly.
“Lightfoot,” he panted, “we—we—that is, she has

29

come to—to

oat Yes," said the girl, supplementing Orson’s stam-

" _ mering utterance, “we know where those boys are held
ce ae . ‘ gee : 7

Gasey, and—and the others. We'll show you
and that’s why I came in—in—such a hurry.”

_ She was as excited as Orson by what had happened.
H

er dark cheeks—Jack saw in the clear daylight that

they were very dark—were now pallid, and her eyes

glittered with excitement. She had had a narrow es-
cape from a Lorveitiie accident, and she knew it.

Jack put up his hand, to attract the attention of the
crowd.

The members of the Tidewater nine had hurried in
from the field.

Jim Lane, coming from behind the bat, was close
to Jack, where he could see and hear everything.

Near Lane was the umpire.

Jack’s voice rang out, while his erect form was
stretched upward until he seemed tall.

“Orson on. and this young lady say they know
where Kid Casey and those other boys are held. She
will guide a party to the place. We'll have to stop the
game here.”

The umpire called the game; for Lane was glad to
have it so.

“If we get Casey we'll go right ahead with it!” said

Lane.
Jack was willing.

“Yes,” he said, ‘if the umpire will permit; but first

we ll see what’s happened to Casey.”
Pandemonium seemed to have broken loose.

’ Everywhere, in all sorts of distorted ways, that

Ee

ALL-SPORTS LIBRARY.

story was running—that the kidnaped pitcher of the —

Tidewater Tigers had been located, and an attempt

was to be.made at once to rescue him.

And such queer shapes that story took, as it was
blown from mouth to mouth like a rag in a gale!

On the outskirts of the crowd some people, receiving
one of those distorted versions, were repeating to

gaping friends and questioners what they thought they

had heard—that Kid Casey had been killed, his body
had been found, and the buggy that had dashed up to

the grand stand contained officers who had come to

arrest Jack Lightfoot and some of his friends for mur-

dering him.
Climbing into the open vehicle with the girl, while
Orson Oxx squeezed his round form in there also, Jack

began to drive in the direction she indicated,

Members of the Cranford nine and the Tidewater 4

Tigers ran beside the vehicle, the swiftest of them
keeping pace pretty well with the running horse.

The girl was almost too agitated to speak, and Or-
son was still shaking with excitement, but from what
they did say Jack managed to get a pretty fair idea of
the lay of things.

Jack learned the whole story later.

Driving the vehicle up to one of the dark, weather-

oa

stained houses that lay along the street beyond the — |

hotel, the girl pointed to it.

“There is the house!’’

Jack threw the reins to a boy who stood gaping on =
the sidewalk, sprang out over the wheel at a bound, —

and then assisted the girl to alight, while Orson Oxx

tumbled out over the other wheel.

“We'll go up this stairway.”

The girl was recovering her breath, her courage and

her equanimity.

“You saved my life!” she said, as she reached the”

stairs with Jack.

“And you put your life in danger by coming to us

with this news,” he answered, not forgetting that he

oe

 
ALL SPORTS EIBRARY © a5

had driven the baseball which had struck the horse and
set it into tantrums.
Up the stairway Jack climbed at the side of the girl.

Orson Oxx came next, rolling along and panting

_ from his exertions. .

, Behind Orson, and not so far behind, came Lafe

Lampton, Tom Lightfoot, Phil Kirtland, Jim Lane and

other members of the two nines, followed further back

by some of the people of the town.
_ The stairway creaked under the tread of ascending
‘feet. | |
When he gained the upper landing and passed
through the doorway to where there was another land-
| ing, Jack saw that he had been over this very passage-
way in the night. For there was the broken stair rail,
and the shattered window, which had not yet been
‘repaired.
“Tn here!” said the girl.
Then she added:
\ “There is another door below—the door through
- which the Indians came last night. Better send a
guard down to it.”

Kirtland and some others saw what she meant and

. hastened to the door indicated.

On the upper door Jack knocked. Receiving no an-
_ swer, he set his shoulder to it; and being aided by
a Brodie Strawn and Lafe Lampton, they crushed the
" door in. :

As they stumbled through over the broken door
; they beheld a sight that astonished them.

- Sitting against the wall, tied hand and foot to the

- chairs in which they sat, with gags in their mouths,

were Jubal Marlin, Wilson Crane, Ben Birkett, Bat

Arnold and Kid Casey.

o : Jack’s knife came out, other knives appeared, and
the prisoners were released from their uncomfortable
A positions:

: _ “Nothing down here!” Kirtland shouted up from the

lower door.

There was another door in the room in which the
prisoners-were found.

The girl had walked to this door, and passed
through it into a room beyond, while the bonds and
gags were being cut away.

Jack failed to her now.

To his astonishment, he found that, having done her

work, she had disappeared.

CHAPTER XI

THE GAME CONTINUED.

It was known everywhere that the girl was gone;
that the object in kidnaping Kid Casey was to. weaken -
the Tidewater team so that it would be defeated by the —
Cranford nine, and that the scheme had failed, for
Casey was now at liberty.

It was said that heavy betting against the Tidewater
Tigers was responsible for the whole thing. Even
Casey believed that; and he was desperately resolved
to win the game now, so that the men who had bet
against his nine, and then had taken such a desperate
course, should lose their money. :

That Ben Birkett was not one of those betting men
was made clear by his own assertions, but more by the
fact that he had been held a prisoner, too; for the
desperate fellows who were engineering the scheme to
put Casey out of the game had thought it necessary to
hold all these other boys.

It was while the pretended Indians were drinking
and gambling that Orson Oxx had contrived to wrig-
gle out of his bonds and escape from the room.

Orson’s impulse had been to save his own bacon re-
gardless of the peril of the other prisoners; but, en
countering the girl, and being questioned by her, he
had told her everything. :

She had not known until then that the abduction
had been carried out; she had thought her warning to
Jack had headed it off.

Finding this not so, she had gone into the street with _

 
= iat

ALL-SPORTS: LIBRARY.

Orson, taken the first vehicle she found teers. aA
with Oxx by her side had driven in wild haste to the
ball grounds. :

All this, in many versions, was being talked over
by the excited spectators, as they gathered once more
at the diamond; and everywhere was heard the ques-
tions :

“But what became of the Indians? Who were they?

Where dia they come from?’

|... Their presence in Tidewater was°a standing sur-

prise, though most people smiled when they were men-

tioned, as if they could guess why such a disguise had

"been assumed. -

“The ball game was on again.

Jack said he was willing to consider that his side
“was out. Two men were on bases, and two men were
out, when Jack’s bat pulled the ball into the crowd of
_ spectators, striking the horse with such startling re-
sults.

‘We will suppose,” he had said, “that some Tide-
water player secured the ball and nailed the runner
from third at the plate; and, of course, that put our
side out.”

As a matter of fact, even the ball had not been
found, after that exciting interruption to the game.
Some boy, doubtless, had pocketed it.

Another ball had been produced, the game was
going on, and there was now a great pitchers’ battle in
progress, between Jack Lightfoot, and the Wizard
Pitcher of the Four-Town League, whose pitching
abilities seemed not to have been impaired by his sin-
gular experiences.

He

was determined to keep those betting men from win-

No doubt that was because his “mad was up.”

ning anything, and tins pay them back for their treat-
ment of him.

On the other hand, disregarding the betting men al-
together, Jack Lightfoot was determined to win this

‘game if he could for the honor of Cranford.

~
}

he seventh i ae had opened with Tom Lightfoot :

at the bat.
Tom got a hit and took first bag.

The-Wizard Pitcher was doing some of his finest — :

work.

Brodie fouled twice, then chopped a fly to short, a 7

thing he did not mean to do at all.

oe scooped in that fly without much
‘ oa x ;

trouble.
Macklin Remington did not expect to be able to do

anything against the Wizard Pitcher. But, as strange

things will happen in a baseball game, Mack lifted a an)

hit into right.

Tom Lightfoot had filched second bag, and that”
hit took him safely to third.

Jack Lightfoot came to the bat.

Jack was wary, for he knew that Kid‘ Casey would a

try hard to strike him out.

He let the first ball pass, for he did not like the. a

looks of ‘it,

The bail dropped out of Lane’s mitt.

ably purposely done by Lane, for when Mack Reming: : :
ton tried to steal second, thinking he had a great ~

chance, Lane shot the ball down across the diamond. a

Yet Mack made second, and the umpire pronounced — .

him safe.

Tom Lightfoot, who had started for the home plate, =
ran back to third. See

Down on the coaching line at third Ned Skeen ‘

opened his chatter like a squealing phonograph.

“Now’s your chance; now your chance has come!”

Ned was shouting.
to knock it into the bay.
lead!

Hoop-la!

working his glass arm. Get a lead—Jack’s going to

lace it out.” | eee

-Of.course Ned Skeen’s chatter was. for the purpose

The Wizard is winding up—just look at him

“‘Jack’s at the bat, and he’s going :

Brodie Strawn did not have such good luck. « a 2

It was prob-

eh

Move out—get a

 
 

wildly.

ae {

~ ALL-SPORTS LIBRARY. : a7

_ of rattling Kid Casey more than for the instruction of

i : Tom Lightfoot.

_ When the ball came in Jack saw that he could
get it. :
ce It was rather low, which he did not just like, for a

low ball is apt to result in a fly, and flies are not hard

. = to capture. Yet Jack lifted it; and in a way to set the
i a fans wild, for the ball flew high over left field, seem-

ing headed straight for the salt water.

SS - It struck deep in left field, and went bounding and
a plunging toward the bay, with the fielder chasing it

%

The fans went wild now, yelling their joy.

- Tom Lightfoot came home; then Macklin Reming-
ton came home.
Jack was about to stop on third, when the shouts
of Skeen, as well as his own eyes, told him that the
g ball was lost somewhere in the tall grass that grew

_ about a small sand dune; and Jack ran for the home

ee plate, which he reached in safety.

It had been a glorious hit in the right place, and

: “had given Jack a home run.

Three runs had been pulled over the rubber by that

Ss one magnificent hit, putting the Cranford nine just
that many runs in the lead.

The game went on.

Kid Casey got into form again, and struck out two
\ men, retiring the side.
= The Cranford nine made a gallant effort at the bat
: in the beginning of the ninth; but Casey held them
“down to one run.
: 3 “The Tigers began to feel that they had not much
- show against such playing, and already Kid Casey be-
on to prepare a cushion for him to fall on, by declar-
ae that his arm was stiff from the effect of the cords
that had been applied to it. It was a good excuse,
a a valid one; Casey was not as good in the box as
“he should have been, and that was really why.
‘But, then, as Jack Lightfoot and his friends knew,

Kid Casey had no right to be in that pitcher’s box
at all.
The Tidewater Tigers showed clear grit to the last,

They made a desperate try for runs in the last halt
of the ninth, and they secured one, in a most peculiar

manner.

Jim Lane hit to right field, and the ball struck a boy.
The third baseman touched Lane out; but the umpire
declared that it was a blocked ball; and Jim Lane came
home happy, bringing in the one run. :

Altogether, with its interruptions, and the exciting
things that had happened, this game with Tidewater :
was one of the queerest that Jack Lightfoot had ever
taken part in. , |

Yet. the Cranford nine had demonstrated their
superiority over the Tigers in a manner that left no.

doubt in the minds of any unprejudiced persons.

Jack had shown, too, that while he was not a pro-
fessional like Kid Casey, he was in some respects even
a better pitcher. And he had in himself the ability to

3

“grow as he became older and gained more experi-
ence, which was a sure guarantee that there would ~
come a day when such a man as, Kid Casey could not
hope to equal the pitching that Jack Lightfoot would

be able to do.

Jack and his team received the hearty congratula-
tions of many of the Tidewater people, after the game,
for it was known now.that Jack and the members of
his nine had had nothing to do with that mysterious
case of kidnaping.

ae

* ae * * * *

When Jack went up to his room in the hotel, to get
his few belongings, for he meant to return to Cran-
ford with some of his friends that night, he was sur-_
prised to see the girl who had called herself Mona

Brighteyes sitting in the room.
She smiled and arose from her chair. She looked

tired, and her dark face was still pale.

 
‘

“ALL-SPORTS LIBRARY:

ot wanted to see you before I go away and explain
all about that matter,’ she said.
“You are going away?’ Jack asked.
She nodded.

“T want to tell you, for one thing, that I, myself,
though you mightn’t think it, am an Indian Pe

| Jack was more astonished by that than he had been
by seeing her there.

- He looked her in the face with a searching glance,
and saw the dark tint of the skin, the dark eyes, and
‘the dark hair. #

: You don't look like an Indian to me!”
ee “She faughed again, and showed her beautiful, white
teeth,
‘ 2p No ‘one would ee it, perhaps, if I didn’t ac-

ee it; but I have never been ashamed of it.

Yes, I have just a little Indian blood. One of those
Indians is related to me, and I know the others quite

well.”
“TI feel sometimes. so mixed

said Jack,

up that Iam half convinced that I must have dreamed

riven Vet.

{22

about those Indians!
“There were three of them—genuine Indians.”

“But the Tidewater people say there were never any
Indians here!

cause of that.”

“We are fortune tellers,” said the girl; “and as we
go from place to place we give a little show, in concert
halls, and the like. Of course, white people don’t care
up in beads, paint and feathers. A little rehearsing
had been going on when you saw those Indians, and
They didn’t
“know I’d gone to your hotel, or anything of that kind.”

She looked at Jack keenly.

that accounts for the feathers and paint.

“Am I making myself clear?”
“T am trying to understand it.”

“We came here after dark last night, drifting down

Many will not believe the story, be~

- wanted Kid Casey to follow me.

the river above here, Soot the interior, where ee ve. S

been giving some shows. I was here several days.

ago by myself, though not in Indian dress. It was at

that time that I rented that old fou.

owner even before that, and made the arrangements.

He does not live here. The house is an old thing, about

to fall to pieces ; though there are others about like it.
“When T was here several days ago I heard of this” a
ball game, and discovered then that betting was being _

done, and there were hints of dark plans that were —

being made.”’
Jack wanted to hurry her here, but he let her wander a

along with her story.

“T found that out, because one of the men, who was — -
doing this heavy betting, and was planning to do some —

kidnaping to win his bets, came to me to get his for-_ a

tune told. He was superstitious, and believed in for- 2

tunes, and luck, and signs, and all that.
“You don't?”
She smiled again. |
“Yes, in this way; I believe that they are good things. | e

to make a fortune with, so long as there are gudgeons

in the world who will pay good money out to have

: “some one tell them a lot of lies.

“The same fellow came back last night, finding that

I was here. He brought another man with him, ands ve

I heard them bribing my Indians to do the oa “ 2

ee

and giving them whisky.

“Then I came to this hotel, and into this room, just

43 aie as I’ve already told you, to warn you; but I made a3
to see an Indian show unless the Indians are all rigged ~ y y a »

mistake, for I thought I was warning Kid Casey. he

I hoped he woke

hear for himself that bribery talk, and Be able to ideas : =

tify the men who were giving whisky. to my Indians a
and preparing trouble for them and for me. I got you, :
instead of Mr. Casey; I became mixed in regard to
the. numbers on the room doors, and that is how it .

happened.

 

I knew the
ALL-SPORTS LIBRARY. . | 29

= and Well, you know what came ee. that
| “About the last I knew I was tumbled into a boat,’

said Jack.

} es, the Indians concluded to hold you, too, and
they threw you into that boat. Afterward they
“changed their plans, and concluded to stay there in the

- building. They deceived me, telling me that they
_ had decided to have nothing to do with it. I told them

~ to get you back to the hotel. It seemed that the men

who hired the Indians didn’t want you held; they
wanted you to pitch and win the game. They found
~ you by the wharf in the boat, out of your head; and
_ they took you back to the hotel, where they put you to

: bed again, You must thank me for coaxing them, or

rather threatening them, so that they were willing to

try to do that. I’d made a mistake in calling you out
of your room, and I wanted the mistake rectified, if

7 could be done.

_ “That hotel clerk slept as if he had been chloro-

formed, and they had no trouble.”

“And this morning,” said Jack, “he declared he had

only cat-napped a little.”

she laughed in an amused way.

“When I found my Indians had deceived me I took
_ Steps to have those boys released. My Indians heard
, that I had gone to betray them, and they deserted the
BP flottse like rats sliding out of a sinking ship.
ie “And there’s the whole story.”
_ “Where are they now ?”
“The Indians?” |

Veo’
She smiled again, this time mischievously.
“Tf I tell you that you'll know as much as I do.

. : And it might come about that they would be followed
They

Ve skipped out, as you boys say. Isn’t that enough?”

and arrested. I don’t want that to happen.

. _ “You know where they are”
0h, yes; I’m going to join them soon.”

“Will they treat you well, after what happened ?”

Chere probably glad that I took a hand, now
that they’ve got over the effects of the liquor. They
are civilized Indians, you must understand, from 1p
Rangeley Lake way; but they have the Indian’s love
for firewater,”’

She rose to go.

“Won't you tell me more?’ he begged.

“About myself ?”

Yess

“There's nothing more to tell.”’

“What is your right name?” said Jack, boldly.

“T gave you my right name in the first place. Itis
Mona Brighteyes.”’ |

“And where do you live?’

She laughed again, and moved to the door.

“I haven't any stopping place. We travel, telling
fortunes and giving shows. Perhaps you and I may
meet again!” :

She drew the door open.

Then she put her fingers to her lips.

“Can you keep a secret ?”

ees. Sate Jac,

“Don’t. say anything about this until to-morrow
morning, or until you are out of this town. Some one
might want to detain me here.”

She held out her hand.

It was a little, brown hand, with a warm and eling-

ing touch.

“Good-by!” she said, in a low tone. “I hope we

may meet again.”

“And I hope so, too,” said Jack, earnestly.

She flitted down the hall, and in another moment
was gone.

THE END. ~

Next week’s issue, No. 12, will be “Jack Lightfeot,
Pacemaker; or, What Happened on a Century Run.”
This is a delightful bicycle story, giving a stirring pic-
ture of out-doors life, filled with adventure, fun and

all the other things that boys like in a story.

 
 

 

 

 

ITH YOU

 

 

 

Under this general head we purpose each week to sit
around the camp fire, and have a heart-to-heart talk with
those of our young readers who care to gather there,
answering such letters as may reach us asking for in-
formation with regard to various healthy sports, both in-

- door and out. We should also be glad to hear what you
think of the leading characters in your favorite publica-
nm. Besides answering the various letters and giving
ice on athletics, it is our intention to furnish from
ime to time short essays upon timely topics, such as

How to pitch a drop ball,” and other things that most

ys desire to know, told in a manner that may be

- easily understood. It is the editor’s desire to make this
department one that will be eagerly read from week to
“week by every admirer of the Jack Lightfoot stories, and
prove to be of valuable assistance in building up manly,
healthy Sons of America. All letters received will be
~ answered immediately, but may not appear in print under
five weeks, owing to the fact that the publication must
go to press far in advance of the date of issue. Those
who favor us with correspondence will please bear this
in mind, and exercise a little patience.

The first on our list this week comes from a Western
city, and seems to breathe the right kind of spirit, such
as we like to see animating “our boys.’’ We feel that
it will interest all those who sympathize with the sports
of Young America, so, while it is rather long, we give
it in full:

“Quite by chance I picked up a copy of the ALL-
Sports at a news stand, being attracted by the spirited
scene on the cover. On reading the same, 1 found myself
intensely interested in the characters, who immediately
took on the form of personal friends, in whose sports and
troubles I began to feel the biggest kind of interest. So
I immediately posted off and secured all previous issues,
and for several evenings nothing could pull me out of
., the house. I want to thank Mr. Stevens for introducing
us to such a fine cast of characters. Why, it seems to

me I can just shut my eyes and see them all—bully old
_Lafe, good-natured and munching his everlasting apple;
shrewd little Nat Kimball, always bent on getting on to
the tricks of jiu-jitsu, yet never quite mastering the com-
bination; impulsive Ned Skeen, easily led, yet with some
good traits; steady old Tom Lightfoot, filling himself up
with information from his various books, yet not neglect-
ing the element of sport; scheming Prof. Sanderson, al-
ways on the lookout to do our hero an ill turn; proud
Phil Kirtland, captain of the Academy team, with his
love for standing in the glare of the limelight; and last,
but not least, gallant Jack himself, the lad we all love,

true as steel, fearless, modest, and possessing -all the
qualities that go to make up an ideal boyish character—
how they come up before me when I shut my eyes. It
seems as though I could hardly wait for each issue to
appear, so intense is the interest I feel in the adventures
and sports of the Cranford boys. Well, Mr. Editor,
would you believe it, that I could just about hear the

smack of that glorious hit bully old Lafe made with his _

old wagon tongue, when he cleared the bases and won
that tight game described in the last number. And as
my letter has grown so long, let me Say in conclusion
that I hope we shall be allowed to have a weekly visit
with Jack Lightfoot and his chums for many, many
moons;

“Denver, Colo. WALTER S. BRADLEY.”

This is a very pleasant letter to receive, and we only
hope the great mass of boy readers will find something of
the same enthusiasm in keeping up their personal ac-
quaintance with Jack and his friends.
right in saying that Jack seems to possess the qualities —
that go to make up an ideal boy character; but the au- ~
thor has not attempted to make him perfect by any means,
as he has numerous shortcomings and faults, which, how-
ever, as we can see, he strives manfully to conquer.

“I thought I would write and tell you what I thought

of your library. It is out of sight. Jack Lightfoot is —
my favorite, with Lafe and Jerry next in order. And

I think that Mrs. Lightfoot is the best kind of a mother _

for boys. That Prof. Sanderson ought to be run out of
the Academy. I wish the author and publisher of Art-
SPORTS great success. I will close, with three cheers for
Jack Lightfoot and his friends. FRANK ARNESON.
» “Decorah, la.”

Short and to the point. We like to hear such ex-—
pressions of appreciation, for when a boy takes the trouble
to put pen to paper, just to give vent to his enthusiasn, <
there must be something unusually attractive about the
subject of his letter. oO

“When I found that Jack and the boys were going to
do something else besides have a gym. I began to take —
-a new interest in the library, because baseball and fish-.
ing are my best hold. In fact, my friends call me a
crank in that line. Give us great variety, please, Mr.
Editor, and let us see what the Lightfoot boys know
about gun and rod and baseball. I subscribe for a full
year with this, and I mean to take the Arr-Sports just
as long as it is published. I have taken other papers,
but never felt one-half the interest in the characters. that
I do in the Cranford crowd. Why, they stand out just
like real fellows, every one of them. Lafe is a dandy,
and don’t you forget it—I laugh every time he comes on

 

Walter is quite
_ the stage with his.old apple. No wonder they’re dear this
‘season. I hope Mr. Stevens will take Jack out in. the
woods now and then. We have enough of gymnasium
_stories.as it is; what we want most is real sport.
“Danbury, Conn. fea Ge

We believe there are others like you, J. F. C., because —

most boys are fond of outdoor sports in their season,

and only take to the gym. when the weather keeps them
housed. It is, in fact, the full intention of Mr. Stevens

to deal with all manner of strenuous life, and the wide

range of subjects which he will cover, given time, must
surely please. e

© jack is all right, and so is Lafe. They make a great
combination, and I’d like to be in that shed where Jack
holds his meetings, and Tom pores over some musty
old book. But what I want to read about is canoeing.
I made a canvas canoe last year, without a bit of help,

and she went as fine as silk. There were a few mistakes,

and I mean to build a better one this summer, sure. A

S _ boy I know took a cruise down the Delaware, and had

lots of fun, and some adventures, too. I’m anxious to
try it; and I’ve been hoping Jack and his chums would
_ go on a trip, so I could get some hints about what to
_ carry along and how to manage about camping. Please
_ give this your attention, and it will suit me fine. Can
~ you tell me of any books on the subject of canoeing?
- We like the stories, and mean to have them just as long
as they are published. Scott Epwarps.”’

In due season, no doubt, the subject which interests
you so much will receive attention. Everything in its
~ place. Jack doubtless knows how to handle the mos-
 quito craft, and sooner or later will be found skimming

_— down the river that runs from Cranford Lake, bound

for a cruise. And, of course, there will be valuable in-
_ formation given on the subject,/as the author is familiar
~~ with all phases of camping and ‘cruising. If you are
"anxious to learn more about the manner of handling such
a boat, you may buy several books that cover it—one at
~ Teast, published by “Forest and Stream,” of New York.

“We have had an athletic association for almost a year,
_ and because we like your library so well, it was decided
_ at the last meeting to call it the All-Sports Athletic Club.
And another queer thing is, we got our meeting room
just like Jack and his friends did, through the generos-
_ tty.of a gentleman who wants to keep boys off the
_ streets at nights. I tell you we do have great times,
and it’s doing most of the fellows lots of good, too.
_ Why, I’ve increased my chest over two inches, just by
careful training, and my muscles are as hard as nails.
_ We put in all the time we can of evenings, and sometimes
_ most of Saturday ; and my, how proud the boys are of the
_ old den. Everything is kept spic and span clean. Once
we had an entertainment, and did some stunts that rather
surprised our folks, especially the girls, who used to
Steer at us for spending so much time and money in the
- clubhouse.“ They «lon’t now, I notice, and just last week
_T heard that they were talking of having a gym. of their
own. If they do, perhaps we won’t have some fun when
_ they try to beat us out at our own game. I wish we had
Late with us—he’s sute the best ever, with his fun:
-and then he isn’t so very slow either, when he gets going.

Lightfoot just as eagerly as if we knew him.

ee

- ALL-SPORTS LIBRARY.

Jack suits me first rate. Give the author my compli-
ments, and tell him we are following the fortunes of
Three
cheers for Jack and Tom and Lafe, and all the fellows,

not forgetting good old Jerry—he’s the great lad from

old Ireland, that would stand up for Jack through thick
and thin. : Joun E, Emerson.”
“Cincinnati, Ohio.” ce

Success to you, John, and the athletic club of which
you make mention. Indeed, we do considerit a -great
compliment to have it named after our little publication ;
and we earnestly trust that you will from time to time
derive great benefit from what may appear in these col-
umns.

I have been reading the ALt-Sports Liprary since the -
first issue, and I consider it as being almost the “®
thing.” The characters are very interesting, and
stories are not of that “blood and thunder” order ¥
disgusts the reader, but the kind that keeps fyou
pectation and suspense from the beginning to tie end

There is nothing that any boy likes better than a
story of athletic events, especially the kind
of us have a fair knowledge of. A great n
lose considerable interest by having introducec
games that the reader never heard of before. | \
American boy of to-day wants is American fpamie
cause they are the most manly. Mr. Stevens i
highly commended ‘for his efforts to give the
boy what he most desires—a book describing Ameri
athletics. I am not saying Mr. Stevens is the greatest
boys’ author living, for that honor belongs to one whose
stories we have been reading for nearly nine years, and
I would not be speaking truthfully if I said he is; but
he will make this other “boys’ author’ hustle to maintain
his “honor.” I hope this letter will-serve as the begin-
ning of a foundation for the ALL-Sports applause col-
umn, for I think it would add interest to the book to
have one. Others have their applause column, and there _
is no reason why the ALL-Sports can’t. a

Let all the readers send in their applause, and I’m sure
the publishers will find room for them, and it will not be
long until the ALu-Sporrs applause column will be read
with much interest, and thereby making the book more de-
sirable than ever. -I will now close, hoping to see this
letter published, so that other readers will follow my ex-
ample and help build up an interesting column of chat.
Wishing success to Mr. Stevens and the publishers, I re-
main, P 7 AWB,

Philadelphia, Pa.

Our young friend has discovered ere now that we had

this department in view for some time before the receipt
of his communication. Nevertheless, we are glad to hear

from him and know his sentiments, We have great faith
in Mr. Stevens being able to make good. ‘Write again,
Joa,

This ends the grist for the week. Other letters will
appear in their order, and we hope the information con-
veyed will be of such a general, as well as interesting

character, that this department will become dear to the gi

ieart of every reader of ALt-Sports.
. Tue Epiror.

 
THRILLING SEA STORIES

This library represents an entirely new idea. It is totally different from any other now
published. The stories detail the adventures of three plucky lads who set out to capture the
notorious Captain Kidd. Every real boy has longed to read more about the doings of this bold
marauder of the seas and the opportunity is now given them.

The stories are of generous length and without equals in thrilling adventure and intefést.
The best sea stories ever written.

 

 

 

Ys

Captain Kidd’s Sea Swoop; or, Carried Off by Pirates.
Captain Kidd’s Buried cacti: or, Adventures of Three Boys Among the
| Buccaneers.
The Silver Cutlass; or, Thad and His Chums Lost in the Swamp.
Defying the Sea Wolf; or, Thad at Bay in the Powder Magazine.
The Jolly ‘““Red Raven” ; or, Captain Kidd’s Daring Raid on Old New York.
The Corsair Captain; or, Thad and His Chums Afloat.
The Death’s Head Rovers; or, How Thad Outwitted the Coast Freebooters,
Walking the Plank; or, The Last Cruise of the Flying-Scud.
» . Captain Kidd’s Revenge; or, Thad Among the Tigers of the Sea.
10, The Chest of Doubloons; or, How Three Boys Defied the Buccaneers,
11. The Rival Pirates; or, Thad and His Chums in Irons.
12. Captain Kidd’s Genser. or, Simple Simon Takes Soundings:
€ 13. The Red Raven’s Prize; or, How Young Thad Sailed a Pirate Barque.
14. Nailed to the Mast; or, The Last of Captain Kidd’s “Hole in the Wall.”
Captain Kidd’s Long Chase; or, Thad and His Chums in the Tropics.
16. Set Adrift By Pirates; or, Thad’s Adventures in the Saragossa Sea.
17. To Sink or Swim; or, Thad and His Friends On Blue Water.
Captain Kidd’s Drag-Net; or, How Young Thad Hoodwinked the Buccaneers. .
19. ‘The Phantom Pirate; or, Thad and His Chums on the Haunted Ship.
20. The Winged Witch; or, How Three Boys Saved the Treasure Galleon.
21. Captain Kidd in Noe Orleans ; or, The Pirate Scourge of the Rigolets.
22. ‘Tiger of the Sea; or, The Three Castaways of the Gulf.
23. The Pirates of The Keys; or, Our Boys Afloat on the Spanish Main.
24. Captain Kidd at Bay; or, Marooned On a Sand-Spit.

PRICE, FIVE CENTS:

For sale by all newsdealers, or sent postpaid
upon receipt of price by the publishers

ue ota LIBRARY as a ies we now York |

i nf Dade ORS Fee Ge ferns POG re ai oA Ge

 

 

 
 
Caine, Rove. ine a the

 

 

 

 

‘“ Teach the American boy how to become an athlete and lay the
_ foundation of a constetution greater than that of the United States.”

—Wrse sayings from Tip Top.

You like fun, adventure, and mystery don’t you? Well, you can find them
all in the pages of the stories in this library. As the name implies, the ALL-
SPORTS LIBRARY is devoted to the sports all young people delight in. It
has bright handsome colored covers, and each story is at least 30,000 words in
length. You are looking for a big five cents worth of good reading and you can
getit here. Ask your newsdealer for any of the ie listed below. He has
them in stock,

PRICE, FIVE hE IE

LATEST TITLES
JACK LIGHTFOOT"S CHALLENGE;

or, The Winning of the Wager

JACK. LIGHTFOOT’S HOCKEY TRAM;

ot, The Rival Athletes of Old Cranford

JACK LIGHT FOOT'S GREAT PLAY;

ot, Surprising the hoo Boys

JACK LIGHTFOOT’S ATHLETIC TOURNA-

MENT; ot, Breaking the Record Quarter-Mile Dash

JACK LIGHTFOOT IN THE WOODS;

ot, Taking the Hermit Trout of Simms’ Hole

JACK LIGHTFOOTS FRUMP CURVE;

or, The Wizard Pitcher of the Fou log League

 

 

 

 

 

 

This library may be purchased from any newsdealer at five cents per copy,
or any number will be sent postpaid upon receipt of six cents by

- THE WINNER LIBRARY COMPANY, 2 Duane St., NEW YORK