Th A R ne & = 2] | fuse te =| on uth ow ican Yo leona 14h om ti ica’ - Ideal Publ An SS SS | | = : it | > IMPORTANT NOTICE! The new main stories in the TIP TOP WEEKLY contain the same number of words as of old, and the additional stories represent a clear gain to the reader. <¥ An ideal publication Cl forthe e Ariiétican Yotith | ily 2 Issued Weekly. Entered as Second-class Matter at the New York Post Office, by STREET & SMITH, 79-89 Seventh Ave., New York. Copyright, 1912, by STREET & SMITH. O. G. Smith and G. C. Smith, Proprietors. TERMS TO TIP TOP WEEKLY MAIL SUBSCRIBERS. (Postage Free.) aunt pores or Back Numbers, 5c. Each. How. to Send Money—By post-office or express money order, registered letter, bank check or draft, at our risk. At your own risk if sent by currency, coin, or postage stamps in ordinary letter. 3 months...+-- ++ BHC. OME YOAL....2- sence ceereeeves snes wae 50 Receipts—Receipt of your remittance is acknowledged by proper change 4 Seantben es * aie - 8c, 2 copies one year.. enous + 4.00 ofnumber on your label. If not correct you have not been properly eredited, 6 MONTES, «++ ees coeeee cer aee care eeee ‘$1.25 1 COPY TWO YeATS...+-0+ cece veevees 4.00 and should let us know at once. ¢ ’ No. 829. NEW YORK, March 2, 1912. Price Five Cents. Dick Merriwell’s Plan; Or, JIM PHILLIPS’ INITIATION. By BURT L. STANDISH. GHAP TER fort. Each train will be under the. command of an offi- _cer, who is/to have full powers to open fire on all sus- picious persons approaching the train. The authorities have come to the conclusion that this cae is the only means of putting a stop to the prevailing law-_ As the ordinary postal trains can only carry a small convoy, the raiders ~lessness on Russian railway tracks. have things all their own way, and have grown so daring that they now hold up trains in broad daylight and quiet ay their booty 4 ina bbs desea forest while the Panic- 18 ae ORE stricken passengers wait for them to set the engine driver free. In future only mails and small sums of money will be sent by ordinary trains. Private banks ‘hire accommodation in the armored trains. ek ak ila geen alaged esc Alc a PEARSON OF PRINCETON. . By L. RAE. Jimmy ies of the Princeton football eleven, had but one ambition in his three years at college, and that was to keep on playing left end so well that the coaches would never think of putting any one else in his place; and so that no opposing half back would ever want to try more than once in one half to get around his end on a play that was supposed to be starting for the other. “See that bunch of steel muscles at left end?” students would ask strangers in the grand stand. “That's Pear- son. You ought to see him play in a championship game. Why, last season "4 And then Jimmy Pearson’s orange-and-black sweater would be seen moving down the field under a practice punt; and the crowd of students would shout “’Rah! ’rah! Pearson!” when he downed his man five yards from the scrub goal post. -'’ There was one thing that his friends did not understand, and that was why Jimmy Pearson took no interest in girls. Fellow students had never seen him any place _. where girls could look at him, except when he was on the field mixing in every scrimmage that wasn’t any of his business; and limping back to his position in the line with. his stubby fists doubled up and his shock of hair _ hanging over his eyes, and every muscle aching in his stocky little body. _ Girls had never interested Pearson. _ to him how fellows who might play football wasted their time by coming out to Nassau Field on championship- game days with scores of angel-eyed, laughing, daintily _ gowned young ladies, who did not know the difference It seemed queer _ between a half back and tackle ; and who said “Oh!” every time any one had his nose broken, He had heard this 4 from the field. — That was Jimmy Pearson when his third year onal eae day that fall he wriggled out of a scrimmage where he had his arms around the legs of a scrub twice his size who had the ball, with his face all muddy, and swung around to his end of the line next to Smith-at tackle. He ood on his toes and sprang in again past two scrubs and a tackle who had been instructed to stop him, and started with the kick, and slammed the scrub half back n the ground with a thud, while the students on the stand clapped their hands and yelled “’Rah! ’rah! Everybody for Pearson!’ It was then that Freddie Cooper, to the captain, heard a newspaper reporter say to_ a oach who had just come in from the field: ‘That chap Pearson, at left end, is a crackajack. If ing happens to him he will make the oe half ; < next year that Princeton ever had,” Jimmy. Pearson were eae related this to at ni a from where he stood ae the closed will be able to WEEKLY. “Rubbish!” said Jimmy Pearson, from the depths of a morris chair, where he was engaged in reading the latest news“in the beef scandal. “What could happen?” “Fall in love,” said Freddie Cooper. “Fall in love?” echoed Jimmy Pearson. He straight- ened up in his chair and looked at Freddie Cooper, who made a pretense of studying his Latin, and laughed. “Fall in love!’ That struck him as being funny, and he laughed again. , “Yes, fall in love,” said Freddie Cooper. “It raises the devil. For example, I knew a chap once who fell in love with a girl, and got engaged to her just before a baseball game. Strange, wasn’t it? Well Freddie Cooper looked keenly at Jimmy. “He pitched that year. for Yale, and imagined throughout the game that if he did not win she would not marry him. He got twisted in the ninth inning with three men on base; he pitched wild and gave the batter his base on balls, forcing a man to score and losing the game for his nine.” Jimmy Pearson glanced up at Freddie Cooper, and smiled. . “ey hat’s that got to do with me?” he demanded. “T want you to keep that story in mind and steer clear of girls, that’s all,” said Freddie Cooper. “Rubbish!” said Jimmy Pearson. And he steered clear—that is, until the following sum- mer, which was just before his last season on the team, when he ran right into it. It was this way: Her name was Elsie Elizabeth Crocker, and she had blue eyes and golden hair, and was just nineteen, and every morning walked down to the village post.office, with Jimmy Pearson following. Jimmy met her one evening at a reception in the sum- mer hotel where he was staying over the hot weather ; and the moment she gazed at -him he knew that she had searched his soul and understood him. And Jimmy Pear- son, who had never paid any attention to girls before, — capitulated. Every day for three weeks Miss Crocker allowed Jimmy to ride beside her on’ her morning can- ters over the country roads, and carry her kodak and — sit with her evenings in a secluded corner of the piazza, with the silvery rays of the moon upon them; and tell her about Princeton, and what a bully place it was, and. what nice fellows went there, and how he could look — across from his window onto the campus and see the — boys playing leapfrog; and what a great football team Prin¢eton had, and how Princeton was going to make the ~ Harvard eleven look like a bunch of schoolboys playing their first game, and how he was going to help them do it. Which for twenty-one hot days was heaven for Jimmy. Pearson. He had never met a girl like that before, Ww ene y something happened. It was on a Friday morning under the grape arbor, with the surt peeping at them through the vines, and Miss _ Crocker raised her eyes to his, and they had a look of | stirprise and pity in them as. she listened to certain words — said in a hurried whisper by Jimmy. Twenty minutes later Jimmy Pearson leaned disconsolately against the door of the barn. She had been very nice about it; h. said she would be,a sister to him, and any time he Brooklyn he might call on her grandmother. and ha cup of chocolate with lady fingers on the side. _ would ait havé been so Lad, and there would have b some hope in it if something else had not happened, 09. a ae that af ternoon ; 3 ae automobile Bh in front 7 plant without’ sunlight. was jumping forward, and Hall made a touchdown. whole audience held its breath on the stands; and Freddie Saat + TIP TOP of the hotel, and a young man in linen duster and cap with goggles jumped out with a kodak in one hand and a suitacase in the other, while a crowd of natives gathered around the car and stared in open-mouthed wonder. His name was Stanley H. Hawkins, of the Harvard football team. Jimmy Pearson saw him coming the same time that Miss Crocker did, and immediately went up to his room and wrote a letter to Freddie Cooper, inviting him to join him in a trip to the African jungle, where a young man might meet death in a battle with ferocious lions, and where there were no girls with blue eyes and golden hair to break fellows’ hearts. All of which Jimmy did because—because the moment Miss Crocker saw Haw - kins she said “Oh!” in an odd way, and ran upstairs in the hotel, and put on a new dress made of Alice-blue silk, with a lace yoke in it, for dinner. Most fellows forget about that sort of thing soon after they think they never will, or else declare all womankind are the same until they meet the next one, and so on. But Jimmy Pearson was different. He told himself that he had been a heavy loser in love’s lottery, and that it was a thing of the past; and also if she wasn’t happy, that the next time he had a man named Hawkins within his reach where nobody could see him, there would be one more applicant on the waiting list for a place in Hades. He said this to himself when the football season began, and thought he was all over it; and then wilted like a You see, he thought a good deal more about Miss Crocker than he thought he did, which was not at all conducive to throwing ambitious. - scrub quarters on their backs under their own goal posts, or to heading off. visiting college tackles from. getting around his end with the ball, or to keeping other men, like Hall, who had been playing for two seasons with the eleven—and who hadn’t any such reason, for a slump— from getting his place on the eleven. Which was why when the boys asked Freddie Cooper what the matter was with Pearson, he shook his head and vouchsafed no reply. Later on he ‘mentioned it to Jimmy, who tried to pull himself together. the. worse he got. Just before the crash came, he played so well one afternoon that he thought he had banished her image from his vision; but he was mistaken. In the second half, when he was tackling Hall on a fake end play, her face suddenly appeared in front of him as he The Cooper jabbed Bill Courtney in the ribs as if it was, his and then: Titus, captain of the eleven, who had something besides friendship to think about, held a con- sultation with the coaches. The outcome of which was that the day before the Princeton-Harvard game, the papers had Hall’s name in the place eit had been Jimmy Pearson’s for three years. Which was the cause of Freddie Cooper’s hurried trip to Brooklyn to see-a certain young lady who had a good deal to do with the results of the game, as will presently be seen. * x Sie, om ey ee _ All through the first half, while the two elevens were struggling to score, Jimmy Pearson sat disconsolately on _ the side line with his blanket thrown around him, and _ called himself every thing he could think of, and stared oes at his eleven on the field; each player so familiar to WEEKLY But the more he tried | 19 him, the great line bending to their knees till the giant center snapped the’ ball, then heaving upward and for- ward against the crimson line, while the alert half backs shot to left or right, and’ stopped suddenly under an ad- vancement of red sweaters. If he hadn’t been a silly, sentimental fool and thrown his chance away on a girl, Jimmy thought to himself as the stands cheered again and the second half began, he could have gone out there and done something. Hall was getting tired, but he could not go out. He did not have the courage. If things had only been different--if Hawkins A sharp, penetrating yell broke out from the Princeton stands, and Jimmy Pearson jumped. It rose to a rousing cheer that was taken up all along the lines. Hundreds of orange-and-black flags waved around the field. People were standing in their seats, imploring, yelling again, as they had done without effect, all through the game. But now Princeton was playing, and with twenty minutes left to play, the game had suddenly taken on new life. The Princeton quarter back had kicked a long, low drop, and Hall, the Princeton left end, had tackled the Harvard quarter’ back on his own twenty-yard line. A mass of Princeton men were on their feet shouting: ‘Princeton! Princeton!” The side lines were singing; linesmen, dragging a string between orange and black and red posts, were running to take up their new positions. Up in the press stands reporters were leaning over their operators’ shoulders and waving their hats. Coaches were scurrying across the field to each other, boring their way through the subs. Jimmy Pearson nodded to one of them, Camp- bell, the head coach, who had a long list of brilliant’ plays on that field to his ‘credit, and who ran past him, chew- ing a cigar exultingly. “We’ve got ‘em,’ he shouted. Across the field stocky young men in heavy overcoats were crouching anxiously to watch the next play ita Jimmy Pearson watched the playefs éxcitedly. Even 7 if he couldn’t play, and if neither side had scored, and if there were but twenty minutes left to play in; Prince-_ ton could check their advances now and make @touch- down. Crouching low on their own thirty-yard line, the — | Harvard eleven were preparing for a final attack down the field. Their full back was slapping men on their shoul- ders and giving final directions. The ‘Harvard stands echoed with a long entreating: “Harvard! Harvard!” Then came a short, snappy sighal. Harvard gainedtwo _ yards; another and they gained one. Thrice more and the Harvard quarter back shot around Princeton’s end for five yards. Both elevens were fighting every inch, and _ at the end of every play men were stretched put on the frozen sod, while rubbers with bottles ran out under the deafening din and sponged their heads with water. _ Jimmy Pearson could see, as every one in the stands — could, that Harvard was making her last desperate at- — tack at the game. His fingers itched to be out there. — One man was brought in crying, kicking, fighting to go — back into the game, while the coaches who brought him — in tried to tell him that his arm was broken, and he _ couldn’t play any more. He was crying like a child. Sev- eral others had been injured in a scrimmage, and now lay — on the Princeton side lines, grimy and heartbroken, while. rubbers bathed their faces. In fifteen minutes the game would be over. ae was already growing dark. At the end of each play a stream of sweat rose from both.teams like the vapor over a 20 LE ace, valley. The players, staggering back to their places, ap- peared hardly able to move until the next signal brought them to their feet in a play that again ended in a mix- ture of legs and arms. A continuous uproar of cheers filled the air. From all sides of the massive, swaying stands the colors of both elevens waved out incessantly. No one could hear the signals of the quarter backs in the steady cheers. But with ten minutes left to play a change was being made in the Harvard line. Jimmy Pearson, noting the change, understood what it was at once. Where Harvard had for ten minutes made but fifteen yards on Princeton a change had come. It seemed to Jimmy Pearson that if the sun should suddenly turn green, it would not be any more of a miracle than what was taking place now, right along out there on the field in front of him. Ten minutes of the second half was still left to play, and those Harvard backs were suddenly beginning to make big holes in the Princeton line.. A certain easy play was going every time. Jimmy Pearson saw a man run out from the Harvard lines to take some one’s place; it was this man who was making the gains, Every time the ball was snapped back this man would take it, there would be a smashing onslaught of crimson sweaters, and the new player would be around his end—dHall’s end. Once he gained three yards, then five, then ten, — The ball moved from Harvard’s twenty-yard line. to Princeton’s twenty-five-yard line, Jimmy, springing from his seat, crouched, tremblingly, to watch the next move, He saw big Jones, at center, shove and push, and Warner, at left tackle, lunge forward, and Hall, at his end, jump in each time and lose his man, The Harvard stands were on their feet, a mass of crimson flags, cheering in heavy unison, frantically. The Princeton stands were silent. Jimmy Pearson hardly trusted his eyes. Each time his eleven were compelled to back off to take up their new position. Harvard+was forcing Princeton straight down the field for'a touchdown. As he groaned again, Jimmy Pearson could see the same crimson half back dash around Hall’s end to be.downed only after he had carried the ball to Princeton’s fifteen-yard line. Harvard men were crowding down to the ropes, standing on their seats, shouting, dancing, embracing each other. “Oh, stop it—can’t some one stop it?” wailed Jimmy Pearson brokenly. A coach told him to skidoo, And then something happened. -Jimmy.Pearson, watch- ing every move, had straightened up a moment and caught Freddie Cooper’s eye as he leaned over the bench on. the’ other side. Freddie’s face was pale. He: pointed his finger at the Harvard line. Hawkiys!” shouted Freddie Cooper. Jimmy looked instantly, for the first time, into the face of the crimson half back who was making all the trouble for the Princton eleven, It was he, Hawkins, the man who had taken Miss Crocker away from him. He bristled up suddenly—Hawkins! Why, then, Miss Crocker must be there, too! Hadn’t she cast him aside for Hawkins? He turned quickly and stared into the crowded stands, In the sixth row near the aisle Jimmy Pearson looked straight at a golden-haired girl, who sat between an old man who waved his hat frantically, and a young girl who had a sausage poodle on her lap with a red ribbon around his neck. But it wasn’t that fact that sent the blood from Jimmy Pearson’s face. Miss Crocker was not in red for Hawkins! She wore an orange-and-black flag in her belt! : WEEKLY, Jimmy stood upon the bench with his eyes bulging, and stared at her. The next moment she recognized him, and pulled out the orange-and-black flag and waved it at him. Jimmy gasped. In spite of the fact that a fresh yell for Harvard was going up at that time, Jimmy Pearson sprang through a crowd of disappointed substitutes, and dived between two coaches who said things to him, and grabbed Freddie Cooper by the arm. “Here, Freddie!” he gasped excitedly. “Drop that card. Come here.” He pulled the conscientious Freddie to his feet and gripped him by his collar, “Now, then,” he said shortly, and his eyes blazed. “What do you know about Miss Crocker?” Freddie Cooper smiled. Jimmy shook him vigorously. “Out with it!” he commanded; he was hot all over. “J———” said Freddie Cooper. “I knew a chap who knew her. I went to see her cf “The devil you did!’ “I did. Stop choking me. I discovered that Hawkins was a. Mormon. That he had three girls engaged to him at the same time he met Miss Crocker.” Jimmy straight- ened up. If Hawkins had done that he would punch his head. “I told her. Hold on a minute, I told her that if she would give up that Mormon fellow, I’d find her a nice kitchen table in your cottage in the suburbs. I told her that you had one cup and two saucers and three chairs that belong to me, an oil lamp, and a cushioned seat on a typewriter’s chair in my uncle’s office in prospect. I changed her mind. Then I told the coaches all about it; and I told them to keep an eye on you, and notice when the disease broke, Now trot along to Camp- bell, There’s five minutes left to play in—and_ beat Harvard!” Jimmy Pearson sat Freddie Cooper down so hard on the bench that Freddie Cooper giggled. Just one thought was in his mind. Hawkins had tricked the girl he loved, and Hawkins was out there on the Harvard team, and was winning the game for Harvard. He didn’t stop to consider that she might care for him; that she had come to the game to see him, Jimmy Pearson, play. All he wanted now was to meet Hawkins. The next moment he rushed out on the side lines and nodded savagely to Camp- bell, the head coach, who glanced from him to Freddie Cooper, and then smiled. Then he shoved Jimmy out on the field with a bull-like yell: ‘Princeton! Princeton! Pearson!” Pearson only turned to glance, on the run, just once as he put on his nosepiece, over the shoulder of Hall, limp- ing back to the bench, at a girl in a fur jacket, who sat between an old man and a young girl, and who looked the other way quickly. Then he started in to play foot- ball. The whistle blew. The Tiger full back, running from one player to another, encouraged each Princeton man with a pat on the back. It was Harvard's ball, first down, ten yards to go, on Princeton’s ten-yard line. One final rush, like those that had driven Princeton seventy yards’ down the field, and the game would be over. There was a moment’s silence. The Harvard quarter snapped the ball; Hawkins took it. There was a crimson rush of men in front of him, and with a dive Jimmy Pearson broke through the Harvard tackle and end opposite him/atd slammed the crimson half back on the ground with a thud three yards back of where he had started, a la TIP TOP A terrific yell broke from the Princeton stands: Pearson !” - Another signal, another flash of crimson at his end, ~ — and Jimmy lay again with his arms around Hawkins’ legs, + — with three more yards lost for Harvard “Third down, seven yards to go.” The* Princeton stands were frantic. minutes left to play. There were two Jimmy knew what he was going to | do, The Harvard backs dropped behind for a kick for -} goal. Jimmy Pearson, swinging forward carelessly at | his end, watched the pass narrowly. He saw what ten half-shut other pairs of Princeton eyes failed to see, and | that was the fumble that Hawkins made as he reached ) forward to take the ball. With the pass, Jimmy was over | _ the line and on him with a rush. Suddenly swinging, he sprang forward, and, as Hawkins kicked, blocked the ball with his hands and was after it. Before the audience could see what was happening,'Jimmy had fallen under | the Harvard half back’s feet; and Thompson, who was ‘| just behind him, had picked up the ball on the run and ‘| was ten yards down the field past the Harvard full back for a touchdown. It was all done so quickly that Jimmy Pearson was on ' his feet again before the spectators understood what had _ happened, If he hadn’t regained Miss Crocker’s affection ~ he had beaten Hawkins, and there was some consolation in that. Crowds of yelling, happy Princeton men vaulted the fence onto the gridiron, and carr ied Jimmy off on their shoulders, “Princeton! Princeton! Pearson!” The vanquished eleven, not to be outdone, arose in a body, and stood uncovered in the late November after- noon, staring down at their team all alone on the field be- low. Then a slow, rolling, rising thundering cheer broke from hundreds of Harvard men: “Harvard! Harvard! Hawkins!” : An hour later Freddie Cooper was explaining certain __ things to Jimmy Pearson, in his quarters at the gym. “I told you that 1 saw Miss Crocker, but I didn’t tell you all about it. You never want to believe a girl until yon get her angry; I got her angry. “Freddie! _ “On my word, I did. It was the only way I could -perstiade her, I told her you didn’t care for her, any- - how. That you believed she was some one else when you proposed to her, That brought her down to earth, all right. No, that’s my coat. Here’s yours. You're ex- cited. She threw down Hawkins herself, I told her to. Hold on a minute. I’m going to take the uncle and young sister around the town in one of those rubberneck coaches to see the sights, time you want to. I guess she'll see you; and, by the way, don’t forget to tell me what she says,” “Rubbish! V” said Pony, Pearson, from ne doorway. i A HORSE WEARS SNOWSHOES. “Dan,” a horse owned by a contractor, of Wallace, Wears snowshoes and outfitted with them packs supplies into the camps of the miners in the Coeur dAlenes, where there are no trails, and where the goods in the past have en carried on the backs of men on snowshoes. Fitted it with a pair of circular snowshoes wh the ball close up by the other’s goal. _ pened, Give and take, nip and tuck,’neck and neck, one captain, in an impotence of fury, at “Reggie” Timmins, You can come around to the inn any — _were drawn up and redrawn. The difficulty in which the , does a novel trick in everyday ‘life that rivals ‘of the equestrian performances of the stage. “Dan” wick with six, Jimmy Crewe with six, and Ogden with ich he handles aN rith en the one it took peel ipa into the 1 tae WEEKLY. 21 lated camps, over snow that is in places ten feet deep, and where the ordinary horse could not travel. The snow- shoes are fastened to his feet with leather thongs, and once they are on he travels with as much ease as an ordi- nary horse does along a level street. Oe oo FOR THE GOOD OF THE SIDE. By GEORGE HIBBARD. The sharp rat-tat-tat of the ponies’ feet sounded on the sun-baked ground. Sometimes, as one or two players | rode far ahead, swiftly following the ball, the noise made by the small hoofs could be distinctly and separately heard. When, however, those playing forward and those playing half back came on close together in pairs, the pounding was close and continuous, As miniature cavalry they swept down with a dull thunder of sound, amid a small whirlwind of dust, in a madness of motion. For the third of the four periods the fortunes of the game swung backward and forward. Now one side had There it had stuck and hung—only at the last moment, as the loss of a goal seemed imminent, to be picked out from the struggling — mass and carried in a rush far down the field to the op- posite end. There the performance would be repeated. Honors were easy. Neither side had gained, In all the ten minutes of intense play nothing decisive had hap~ and the same, six of one and half a dozen of the other, the game had gone on, ee As the pace was telling on the ponies, the closeness of — ‘6. the struggle affected the men. The hot game was making © them hot. Nerves strained to the utmost were beginning — to show in nervous speech and action, Tempers were | going, under the excitement of the moment. Exclama- _ tions, calls, and injunctions had been constant. Now personal upbraidings, short maledictions, fierce denuncia- = | tions came more frequently, The language of the polo field at the mildest is strong and expressive. In the height of a close game for chal- lenge cup it became full-throated and anathematic. _ “You--you—-you-—-”_ roared Borthwick No, 3 and | as the latter for the third time in five minutes missed the ball. The Ochigos were playing the Wisiatide for the Vam- brace Challenge Cup for the third time, A victory meant the right to retain that impressive piece of silver for the adornment of the club mantelpiece. A game was ac- credited to each, and for the decisive game preparations had been going forward for weeks. Lists of players Plans were laid with painful care. Ochigos found themselves was unusual. The prc arose from an embarrassment of riches—an_ excess ot good material rather than a lack of it. The handicaps of the club were unusually high. Bortt gave a total of seventeen for only three piayers. If Bol were added with four the sum would be twenty-o1 against the probable and inconsiderable eleven of men that the Khatadins would undoubtedly put up. “You've got to go in,” Borthwick had said to Timmins as sci drewoft his boots i in the dressing tc too, ' quickly learned that his place was no sinecure. we TIP TOP Timmins stood in astonishment, the water of a ‘‘shower” running off him. “Of course, we aren't counting on you for much,” the captain continued, with the unconstrained frankness which marked all the team speech, “but you might do something. Anyway, with your handicap of one we gain more, I believe, _than with Bollan’s four. It’s for the good ‘of the side. Therefore Pintle who had been cursed roundly up and down the field all stimmer, found himself in the thick of the Khatadin game. Disapproval showed in his companions’ faces. Orders were shouted at him from all sides. Reproaches were showered upon him at every turn. Not that he played badly. Still, if there were one thing he should have done, that thing apparently he never did. When anything was to be left undone, seem- ingly he hastened to do it. . He was always in the way. He was, always out of the way. He was always missing the ball. When he did make a stroke the result of his exertion was to send the ball in the wrong place. In his excitement he was con- stantly hooking some one’s mallet. In his zeal he was continually playing across his-opponent’s pony. The list of his failings was great, the count of his misdemeanors appalling. Though Borthwick had expressly stated that they did _ not depend, upon him for much, Timmins discovered that in the heat of action a great deal was demanded. He Things had to be done. He was expected, required, exhorted to do them. When he did it, wrath descended on him— stich wrath as made the abuse of the everyday club game seem but gentle admonition. _ Closely on every side of the polo field the crowd was gathered. Along the boards a fringe of people stood; be- hind them were rows of. carts, carriages, and coaches, Automobiles stood in ranks. Every one, as Timmins realized, could hear the objurgation hurled at him. ‘He shuddered as he glanced about. There in a trap were the Springfields, who had always been so nice to him. There in the tonneau of an automobile sat little Mrs. Wyllys, whom he had taken out to dinner the night before, and who had been so pleasant. There were the ( Longs and the Palgraves and the Van Ingens, and- "There on the box of the Finch coach sat Daisy Reyn- _ nolds, hearing every opprobrious word, every disparaging epithet addressed to him. Her interest in polo Timmins knew. What she thought of. such as played well, and, _ conversely, the way she considered those who played ill, bp he well understood. __. When he had met her on the steamer, crossing in “the early summer, he had been led—in his desire to appear well before her—to speak modestly enough of What he could do. Still, he had implied he could do _ something. There she was now to see the worst, and— _ hear. it. f [ “Bartwick’s voice roared, as if through a megaphone, - so that every syllable must carry to the farthest parts of the ground. The syllables did not form pleasant words, and the sentences made by the words caused Timmins’ lor to come hotly and his teeth to shut savagely. “Ride him off! Ride ie off!” Borthwick’s voice, fell on his ear stormily.. One of the Khatadins was coming on toward the ball, which was rolling far ahead. Timmins knew well what vas oreo to eke obstruct m6 Sores Bayer a WEEKLY. veer him gradually to one side, so that Crewe, thunder- ing up behind, could get a clear, strong stroke. Timmins saw the nearing Khatadin. He heard the beat of the hoofs behind. His thoughts were in a whirl. He got rattled. “You—chump !”’ Borthwick made the announcement with many pre- fatory adjectives. In his indignation he shouted so that all could hear—so that the words must reach the Spring- fields and Mrs. Wyllys and the Palgraves and—Daisy Reynolds’ little ears. Timmins could not tell how it had happened. Borth- wick’s pony was bumping into his. A Khatadin player had the ball all alone and was carrying it along before him. Severally and united the other members of the Ochigo team raised their voices and vituperated him. With biting irony and direct invective they endeavored to bring to him a realization of the error of his ways. “T call it downright cruelty: to animals,’ declared Mrs. Finch, with the little breath which the breathless interest of the game left her. She glanced momentarily at Daisy Reynolds, whose hafids were clasped and whose eyes never left the field and the scurrying ponies. '“Sam Borthwick was probably right to have him play,” Mrs. Finch continued, after another breathless instant. “But to expect him to do anything, and abuse him the way they do! Why, they say that every night after every game all summer he cried himself to os because — he had been called such names!” “I don’t believe that, anyway,” esivicninad the girl positively. “Oh, I am so sorry. It’s pitiable.” “It’s too bad, P agreed the other, speaking as she fol- lowed the game with her eyes. “Tt would be so nice if —if—and he’s awfully in love with you.’ "The girl was silent. “But he’s so unheroic, with pear finding fault with him, and, of course, you couldn’t—no girl ae with a man making himself ridiculous.” The players were massed close up to the boacdue in| front of the Finch coach. The ball was down among the ~ ponies’ feet and the heads of the mallets. Timmins was in the thick of it, striking ‘and scuffing wildly with the rest. - “What are you doing here?” yelled Borthwick, out of your position. Get into your position.” Timmins backed meekly out. To be “called down’ be: fore the one girl in the world in such a manner was hu- miliating, To have her see the way in which he was treated was more than a lover’s nature could bear. He 557 “You're wished the game were a desperate charge in which ‘he might ride to instant destruction, to perish gloriously be- fore her eyes. As that was not possible, he only held his stick with a stronger grasp, | gripped the saddle more coh 4 ‘tightly with his knees. “Slaughtered to make an Ochigo holiday!” commented Bagehot, who, through age and weight, had passed from an Achilles to become a Nestor of the polo field. The end of the third period was drawing on, In a_ manner the Ochigos were playing against time. minutes enough they could cut down the balance of goals against them, but would there be minutes enough? They _ ot could safely count.on making two, if not three, for any one of the Khatadins, but could they reach and pass the _ Khatadin total before the Sree aa gong finally a sounded? | ee ERY, they had five to the good, . ‘Borthwick aS With nature of her thoughts. SA de ce tae made one in the first period, with a long drive, after a brilliant dash up the field. Crewe had dribbled the ball through the Khatadin goal out of a scrimmage close to the line. Again Borthwick in the second period had won another, with an oblique stroke which no one else would have attempted. Crewe and Ogden had between them scored two more for the Ochigos. Two minutes only ‘were left, and men and ponies were playing forall that was in them. The red faces of the men, the heaving sides pace was. By one of the quick changes of the game the ball had been brought close up to the Ochigo posts. The Khatadin men were ‘gathered there in dangerous nearness, The ball might be sent through at any minute, but Crewe was be- tween it and the goal. Ogden was in the thick of the mélée. Borthwick himself was hastening up. Timmins, in the noise and confusion of the moment, struck wildly. ‘He hit out instinctively. A roar from his side greeted his action. “Why'd you do that?” Borthwick vociferated. “We didn’t need a safety. That means we got to make another goal, you c Timmins was glad when the bell sounded, when the strain was over. But he dreaded the glances which would meet him as his companions trotted up and slid from their ponies, _ Slowly he walked to the spot where the stableboys, as- sisted by volunteering caddies, led up and down the mounts of the Ochigo Club. He was afraid of what might be said—of what might not bé said. He knew that there was a silence even more condemnatory than words. He was afraid to see Daisy Reynolds. He knew that le must go to the Finch coach. Mrs. Finch had sent a note to him at the clubhouse asking him to dine, and he had not given her an answer. The girl did not look at him as tua came up. With averted head she continued to gaze over the empty field. Mrs. Finch greeted him with too effusive cordiality. “What an exciting game!” she cried. “How you must _be enjoying it!” “Oh, a lot!” said Timmins bitterly. ‘The time of my (EM life—and I accept with the greatest pleasure.” of the animals showed what the Daisy Reynolds turned her large eyes solemnly on him. | _ Though she did not speak, he understood the reproachful He moved’ round to the other side and climbed Up on the wheel. “T ean’t help it,” he whispered piteouisly. oD; can. ‘Everything seems to go wrong.’ “Oh, it’s awful!” she groaned, “TE you could only do so mmething . Timmins shook his head dolefully. Pn afraid I’m hopeless,” he answered, “What mustn’t you think of me, hearing all the others blaming me and abusing mel” “Tf you could only gi something,” she repeated. 4] hate it because of you,” he went on passionately. e want you to think well of me, and I hate to appear like that.” She did not answer, Her silence selec to. indicate deplorableness of his situation. He received it as a d ree moe oe as an edict of goon} bi Kee bitenly “T try the best * close up to the posts. WEEKLY. fee “wants to see the man she likes make himself respected in anything he does.” “While I’m the laughingstock of the field!” he supple- mented, in deepest gloom. “T know I’m no use—and you've no use for me.’ He strode away. The gong was sounding. He has- tened to mount his pony. The sky was radiantly blue above—for Timmins the heavens might have been a dome of black. The scene was brilliant and animated—he might have been in the desolation of a desert. The band near the clubhouse played a gay melody—the music might have been a dirge. With the despair of love he walked his pony out upon ‘the field for the fifteen minutes of the fourth and last period. Everything seemed ended. Life appeared to have come to a sudden stop. Hope was extinguished. Had she not indicated that she could not care for a man who was not applauded and acclaimed by his fellows? And he was about to go through another experience of — scorn and revilement! Well, he thought he could only endure it. The sport- ing spirit decreed that there should be no backing out— no lying down—no giving up, no matter what might be before him. He could not hope to help the side. At least he could try his best to do no harm. Fifteen minutes—and three more goals would mean vic- tory! Surely Borthwick and Crewe and Ogden among — them could manage that. Though he might have nothing of the glory of it, though, he could not return to Daisy with ‘his share of the laurels, the spirit of sport required that he should carry through the false position to the bitter end; do the best he could—play the game—go down with his ship. He was in for it, and if the worst came to the worst he had to fight it out as in any forlorn hope. Both sides were playing now against the fleeting min- utes. The Khatadins were striving to prevent the cee of the goals by the Ochigos, wherein lay their only hope of success. On the defense they drove the ball again and again from their end, only to have it carried back by © Crewe’s wild dashes, by Ogden’s unerring accuracy, by | Borthwick’s masterly generalship of his forces: Again — and again.the Ochigos came up, were within an ace of suc- _ cess, only to have hope dashed as the ball was sent sighs ning back across the ground. Brows were bent, teeth set more fiercely. No thought was given to Timmins, Execration had ceased. He was utterly disregarded. As a factor of the game he did not exist. He saw that all had concluded that what was” to be done had to be done without him, ° ie the Ochigos were devoting themselves to doing it. The first goal came with a stroke made by’ Borthwic As the ball rolled through, » shout went up from the Ochigo supporters. Only five minutes had gone; ten remained in which to make the two others that meant success—provided the Khatadins Ba n nothing in the meantime. aun The usual two minutes after a goal. were ‘dca ball had been thrown in by the referee between the : waiting at the middle line. A Khatadin had com on it, driven it across the field, and was following it turn it in the direction of the Ochigo goal, Ogden wa after him—riding side By side with an pposing ayer Crewe was behind. ag he sed ie was neat a Timmins watched the ball. it rma any other. ae a chance come to lim: N i 24 PEP EOS was between it and the goal. If he could get there first and drive it back, there would be gain for the side, per- haps praise for him. With a jump Timmins sent his pony away. The animal, the best in the club, dashed forward. Only watching the ball, intent on just one thing, Timmins galloped on. A shout—a dull crash. He found himself on the ground. The struggling mass of his pony was almost on him. He saw the quick passes of the animal’s legs in the air. He heard the referee’s whistle. Then he knew nothing more. When he was conscious he was lying by the white boards of the side lines. His head was on a pile of coats. The men of his side gathered about him. “What happened? “All right,” he said quickly. Where’s the ball?” “Never mind what happened,” said Borthwick grimly. “You were to blame. Now, how are you?” “All right,” answered Timmins faintly. “Are you sure ?” asked Borthwick’s voice, more gently and anxiously, “You see, it’s this way. There’s no one else that we can put in but Bollan. And with his handi- cap you know what that would mean, having to make two more goals, with only eight minutes left, Can you go on? “Yes,” said Timmins, half rising. “Very. well,” Borthwick jerked out, looking at him curiously. “Come on.’ _“Tt’s for the good of the side?” Timmins asked. “Ves, ” With his hand on Borthwick’s shoulder, Timmins moved toward his mount. He set his lips to keep back a groan. The pain which shot through his foot and his leg almost unnerved him. For an instant he closed his eyes in the agony. Then he opened them and took another lunge forward. The pony was waiting, and with a su- -preme. effort he lifted himself onto its back. In the saddle he felt for a moment a little better.. Then the pain came again, as if a dagger were driven through his leg. , - The faces of the players swam before his vision, The line of spectators was a many-colored blur. The crash _ of the band was like a blow striking on the brain. The _ next moments were a nightmare, with all the fantastic uncertainty and terror of a nightmare. He felt that he | ee was doing certain things, though what, or for what pur- pose, he could not tell. He rode hither and thither. _ The sense of haste, of urgency that comes in a night _visiori was strong upon him. The time seemed endless. io Days and weeks and almost years appeared to pass. Would it never end? He must go on. That he knew _ —that was all of which he was clear, with the pain dart- ing through him, and only deadened by the excitement of _ the moment. __ He heard them yelling at him. Borthwick, rising in his stirrups, condemned him to every evil. _ He did not seem to care. He must do what he was | doing—do it in spite of all. Do it in spite of the suffer- a ing. Do it in spite of what was said to him. | “For the good of the side.” He kept repeating the words dizzily. “Fort the good of the side.” What good he was doing he did not know. oing something, however, and he must keep on with it, bora, his left foot and leg felt as if of burning metal, He uh though each jar and jolt in the saddle sent BSOnIZINY, 16ots of pain through his whole body. Suddenly he heard a shout. His pony was ‘1 following ne others. : a sae on. He orale see ghia now. He WEEKLY. knew his eyes were open, but he could see nothing more. He could not understand. “Hold on, man—pull up!” he heard Borthwick shout- ing. “Are you mad?” Then another blank—utter blackness. When Timmins came to himself he knew that he was in a room. Through his closed eyelids the light told him that. “By Jove!” some one was saying— surely it was Borth- wick’s voice—‘“he rode out the last eight minutes with his ankle crushed. His foot was caught under his stirrup against his pony’s side in the fall, and the bones broken.” Timmins opened his eyes. “Hello!” he said. Borthwick started. “So you’ve decided to wake up,” he said. “Well, I’m glad you have. There is one thing I want to do at once, and that’s to beg your pardon.” “That’s all right,” Timmins murmured. “No, it isn’t,” continued the other. “When you come out on the field again no one’s going to say anything to you. Why, if you hadn’t done what you did we couldn't have won. They’d have beaten us with the handicap. You did more than any of us—and the rest all want to tell you.” “Thanks,” replied Timmins faintly. “And,” continued Borthwick, “here’s a note for you— to be given to you as soon as you can read it.’ He held out an envelope with the club monogram upon it. ‘Timmins took it unsteadily and tore it open. Only two lines were hurriedly written on the inclosed paper: “T only minded for you—-but I’m glad you have shown them what you are—dear. Datsy.” said Timmins’ suddenly, sitting erect, “I can’t Just let. me get up, will Aa ey, here, I’ve got to go at once. you? SAI rita “A BROKEN HEART.” Among the causes of heart disorders are physical strain, overwork and violence, and mental and nervous over- exertion. One of, the chief causes of a more or less dis- abled heart is the extent to which the spirit of emulation is carried into games at the present day. The attempts to break records in running, bicycling, rowing, et cetera, are the bane of the age. Statistics show that athletes are two and one-half times more liable to heart disease, sixty per cent more liable to kidney diseases, and twenty-five per cent more liable to die of the three main infectious diseases of adult life than the average man. In accounting, however, for the demands made upon the heart by various kinds and degrees of physical effort, ‘the effect of mental labor is generally overlooked. Tee a4 should be rerhembered that mental strain and fatigue are. sometimes more exhausting to the vitality, and, conse- quently, require more of the heart than the same amount 4 of muscular action. W henever the vitality is exhausted, | mental as well as physical rest is required. Anxiety is a potent factor of heart derangement, and prolonged mental depression has a most injurious effect on the heart: It - 2 was this fact which led the ancients to. conclude that. the ve heart was. the seat of emotion. ue Mental and physical overwork, icotieattnate worry, and — trouble during a financial crisis are responsible for many ° Disappointment in love — case sof dilatation of the heart. or in other ardent anntiGans, desertion or loss BY ee ae out: like he gwine fo’ mahry her. ALP TOP of husband or wife may cause such profound grief and depression, and the consequent dilatation of the heart may be so extreme that even death may ensue, and in such cases it is almost literally true that death results from ‘“‘a broken heart.” The Game and the Lady. By CHARLES KROTH MOSER. SYNOPSIS OF PRECEDING CHAPTERS, Orvall McWhorter, of Atlanta, a graduate of Princeton, is pitcher for the Cincinnati Red Eagles. A game between the Red Eagles and the Chicago Gilt Edges, in which McWhorter is playing at his best, is watched by Louise Chandler, of New York. The girl greatly admires McWhorter, though she does not dream that she will ever meet him. Ziegler, of the Gilt Edges, hates McWhorter, plans to injure him, and plots with a _ sport named Knox to pick a quarrel with McWhorter. This plot is carried out. Ziegler strikes McWhorter on the head with a bat, putting the pitcher out of commission. McWhorter is then transferred to the Senators, of Washington. On the - train on the way to the’ national capital, he meets Louise Chand- ler and her mother. The train is'wrecked, and the passengers held up by bandits. McWhorter saves Louise and her mother from being robbed, by fighting off the bandits. While waiting for the wrecking crew, the passengers find themselves stranded in a sparsely settled district in Tennessee. McWhorter, Louise, and her mother picnic in the woods. By the time the train re- sumes its journey, McWhorter and the ladies are on very friendly ‘terms. As the train approaches Richmond, Louise tries to re- member where she has seen McWhorter before. McWhorter ponders the question of whether or not to tell Louise that he is a professional baseball player. CHAPTER V, FELLOW PITCHERS. But why should McWhorter not tell Miss Chandler? “Why should he be ashamed of his profession? It was honorable, remunerative, clean. He was standing close to the top; besides, he had been forced by circumstances into it. Two days ago he would have told any man or woman in the world that he was a baseball pitcher, and ' a mighty good one, too, without a thought of shame. Why, then, was he shivering for fear that Miss Chandler would find it out? Because she had said she didn’t like _ professional sportsmen? Not altogether: _. From the very first hour after her thother had formally introduced them and he had comprehended the girls posi- tion in the world, the words of Jim, the negro waiter in the depot at Knoxville, had time after time unrolled them- selves before his mental gaze: “Dis hyar Mister Jeems Kyorbett done git hisself in dub wif a quality lady wif heaps o’ money, an’ he make But she bein’ quality, an’ him nothin’ but a spo’tin’ man what’s o’ de scruff o’ de yearth, she ain’t so keen on his hyar mahryin’ bizness s —she doan’ like dem spo’tin’ mens nohow.” | Such were Jim’s illiterate words, and they troubled him: For the first time in his life he was ashamed of _ his profession, and he was more ashamed that he was _ ashamed. But he could not help it; after what she had said his tongue was tied. _ Notwithstanding all these things and the ‘ase eat: of ves a of the personal conversation by which strangers & enerally extract what information about each other that they desire, McWhorter felt that he was very well ac- quainted indeed with the girl and her mother before the _ fj ee rolled into the Union en at ee ‘The ie WEEKLY. 25 incidents crowded around their meeting had been so un- usual that many formal barriers had been cast down, and even Mrs, Chandler, who had been so cautious at first, now became graciousness itself and appeared to accept him on the footing of an old friend. The ladies changed trains at Washington to continue their trip, and McWhorter escorted them to the drawing- room car. When he left them Mrs. Chandler offered him her hand, and with most cordial tones invited him to call should he find himself in New York at any time. Louise gave him a look his eyes could not meet. “Do come. I shall always be glad to see you, simply. The young fellow left them, and, just beyond the gates, almost fell into the hairy arms of Zeke Stahl, his new cap- tain and manager of the Senators. ~ “You big chunk of meat!” said Zeke, planking a hand like a ham in the middle of Mac’s back. “‘I’ve been danc- ing around here all day, like a bum batter in distress, wait- ing for you. There’s things doing. I’ve got troubles of my own—but the trouble dispenser ain’t overlooked you | any. But—let’s go and get a feed with my score smashers — first; the talkfest doesn’t need any ice to keep it fresh enough for you.’ “So you think the Senators are sore on me and won’t give me any decent support, eh, Zeke ?”” McWhorter asked. They were sitting over their coffee and cigars in the Arion Hotel dining room, late on the evening of the pitcher’s first day in Washington. “Well, as I’ve told you, Mac, you've cer Merroakeed good and hard, and Ziegler ain’t the only one with his hammer out; if he w ere, that smash he gave you last year at Chicago wotild have knocked his own yarn over the fence. But he’s got some kind of a pull on the league ~ board, and it’s the biggest kind, too. It sure looks to me like they were trying to send you over to the bench for good and all—or get you to quit. And it’s the high man that’s gotten around among -the boys with his wiggle- waggle. . “Now I’m going ‘to tell you something that I’ve kept ” she said ~ my face closed’about; and I want you to put a padlock on your teeth about it, too. For I haven’t got no proof, see? But, all the samee—it looks like the iron horseshoe in the big mitt to me. _ “About the biggest gun in the National League, sieghede to the president, is a swell chap named Harold Knox. _ He pretty near runs the Board of Control to suit him-_ self, and he’s one of the league’s biggest stockholders. — Got a whaling big interest in the New York Giants, and so much money in other things that he can’t throw it ee fast enough with both hands. “Oh, he’s the real ‘it’ in society and the clubs, but he’ s got a sporty streak that won't let him keep away from baseball, and I guess he’s got an idea that he’d like to be — the J. P. Morgan of baseball and run the whole earth, — But he’s foxy; never lets his name get mixed up with the o game in the newspapers, and there ain’t one in five hun- — dred of his friends that knows he ever bet so -much as a hat on the game. “Well, now, this chap Knox and Ziegler are thick ai fleas. It was Knox that helped Ziegler to get out of that Chicago scrape and got him a contract with the Phila- delphias this year.. No matter what Zieg does, he’s well. taken care of, and I’ve been keeping my winkers on EAORS. two fellows ta ee, as I ara lt looks: to m directors held a powwow. 26 ELE TOR like Knox is betting big money on certain games and teams, and that Zieg is helping ‘im to win ’em. Of course I haven’t any proof, but that’s the way it looks. “Now, when we find that Zieg is doing all he can to ‘knock’ you all over the country, and that some directors of the National League seem to have a sore on you— doesn’t it look like you were up against a Knox-Ziegler battery with their gang holding down the infield? It’s up . you to get struck out every time you swing the stick,” McWhorter pulled at his cigar thoughtfully. “Ever hear much about my trouble with Ziegler?’ he asked abruptly. “No. I heard that you and he were mixed up together in some sort of a deal that wasn’t on the square; that you gave him the double cross and peached to the board, and _ they suspended Zieg. That's all.” “Then you heard a lie,” said the young pitcher calmly. “I was never mixed up with Ziegler in any sort of a deal, and any one who has followed my professional career knows better than to accuse me of crookedness. _ “Three seasons ago we were fellow pitchers for Pitts- burg. The others had glass arms, and he and I pitched almost alternate games through the whole season. We had good enough support, and generally Zieg pitched a mighty good ball, but he contracted the habit of making the worst sort of errors at crucial moments and losing us games that looked like cinches. ‘I smelled something raw about it, and did a little nosing around, - “TI soon got next that Zieg was hobnobbing with a regu- ar gang that gambled heavily on baseball. I got enough dope to convince me that he was throwing the games to the gamblers and stowing away a neat little wad in the - bank, out of their winnings. I put the manager next; he investigated, carried the thing up to the board, and the gat It appears they weren't alto- _ gether satisfied of his crookedness, but suspended him on - suspicion for the season. / . “That’s all. I’m sure he’d have been kicked out of _ the game for good if that ‘pull’ you say you think you've - found hadn’t got to work for him; andthe would prob- ‘ably have been cleared altogether, too, if that same pull had dared show its hand right then. I guess if this Mr. Knox with the nursery name of Harold is Zieg’s good angel, he must know a whole lot about that gambling combination, By George, Zeke! I think you're right.” “Tm sure of it, Mac. ou out much here. I'll do all I can for you, but the boys say you're a stool pigeon and a trouble maker, and you've sure got your work cut out for you, Hanrahan, the best catcher we’ve got, is the worst sorehead in the bunch bout you, and he’s mighty popular with the boys, I can feel it in my bones that sooner or later there'll be a row ised for your benefit, and the National League’ll get your scalp.” Re Bae Be Let ‘em go to it,” said Mac grimly. “I’m here to ‘the best ball I know how, and if Hanrahan and crew or Mr, Knox and his little band of Sunday- chool kids want to mix it up with me, I’ll be there,” : Captain Stahl’s fears proved true. During the three — ce before the Senators opened the season e, McWhorter found that the minds of. ; teammates were so thoroughly poisoned — neither their friendship 1e could gain. ¢ or refused to do But meantime that doesn’t help WEEKLY. their best on the diamond; but their work was slovenly and lacked the vim and ginger that a high-class nine puts into its practice when it has confidence in the pitcher. To- ward him, personally, their looks were often sullen, and their manner was decidedly chilly. Stahl, who played third base, and O’Leahy, a mercurial little Irishman whose energy as shortstop was as tireless as a retriever, were friendly with him, and tried to con- vince their mates that he was a good fellow as well as a smashing good pitcher and sticker; but their influence in his favor was far outweighed by that of Hanrahan and ‘Dolliver, the vetéran first baseman. Dolliver coveted Stahl’s place as captain of the team, and the latter’s regard for McWhorter did not win for | the pitcher any higher place in the graces of the first baseman. His glum, sour features and taciturn manner produced an uneasy feeling in McWhorter from the first. “T hate to believe it,” he thought to himself one day after a grueling practice, during which Dolliver had growled at him some particularly offensive language, which he had ignored. “I hate to believe it, but I’ve got the feeling that that piece of ancient statuary and myself are going to come to collar-and-elbow holds some day. They're cooking up a kettle of hot soup for me ‘to’ baseman’s head, and Dolliver’ could not enough into the clouds to pull it down. Oriole gallop in. _ fall ing and I know it.” The first game with the Baltimore Orioles opened in a lively fashion, despite the general slovenliness of, the Sena- tors’ teamwork, ; They were heavier stickers than the lads from Mary- land, and, though their error column looked like the per- forated score of a street piano, they played with such snap and speed that McWhorter felt encouraged. His — own game was of the gilt-edged variety ; his double curve — fooled seven of the visitors’ stick breakers; and a timely three-bagger, with which he brought two runs home, gained for him the admiration of the Capital City fans from the jump. ; The Senators won the game in handy style, and nothing but praise for the team was heard on every hand. But the second game was a sad “fall down.” Mc- — Whorter himself was not in his best form, and let two — men walk. The outfielders muffed several easy chances, — and the men in the infield suddenly got shy on the error _ record and wouldn’t accept any chances at all. By the fifth inning the whole team was in a nasty “slump,” and neither O’Leahy’s brilliant sallies of wit from the coaching line nor Dolliver’s masterful playing on first could pull them out of it. bars MCS In. the seventh inning McWhorter stopped a sizzling © gyenees and snapped it underhanded to Dolliver. In | is tmnecessary haste, however,’he flung it over the — reach high — Before the ball could be retrieved an Oriole on third had scampered home, and another, who had moved up from second, threatened likewise. Dolliver, in a fit of peevishness, flashed the ball across to Stahl, who,was — not expecting it, and he muffed it—which let the second In the next inning McWhorter. misunderstood H rahan’s signal, and his wide outcurve went pa catcher, witha penalty of another run against t the scoreboard. Other disastrous errors were not to lose the game to the Senators, and they were -an unholy trouncing, ' After the game, as they were unlacing Abe SBOP room, the nine defeated players made no attempt to hide their soreness. ‘How did you ever get a reputation as a pitcher, I’d like to know?” Hanrahan snarled at McWhorter. “No fault of mine,” the boy answered good-humor- edly. “Some of these managers, and other fools who didn’t know anything about it, got the idea, and I’m just trying to live up to it.” “Well, you sure put a kink in your rep to-day! Talk about your crockery arms and putty heads; yours is the limit !” “Oh, I don’t know; there are others.” The husky young fellow was nettled more by the tone than the words, which were insolent enough. ‘You aren’t all the mustard yourself. If you did a little more sleeping at nights you wouldn’t drowse so much behind the bat when the balls come over.” Hanrahan sprang to his feet. wagon, I don’t take no lip from “Cut it out, Bill,” said Captain Stahl quietly. don’t want any rows around here.” “That’s all right, cap,” the angry catcher roared; “but neither me nor none of the other boys want any samples of this guy’s gabble. We don’t like a squealer, nohow.” The red rushed up McWhorter’s face to the roots of his hair, but little O’Leahy put a grimy hand on his knee and looked at him with twinkling humorous eyes. hee wid ye! Don’t notice it th’ divvle a bit,” he said. The pitcher, thus advised, kept silence, and went on with his dressing. Stahl, thinking the incident closed, finished dressing, and left the room; he had hardly closed the door when Hanrahan returned to the attack, “You may think you are a wizard at winging ’em over, Mr. Sticker Killer from the West, but you might as well get wise right here that what,I said about squealers goes. They ain’t popular on this team a little bit. We've heard of you from pretty good authority and have got on to your curves some; if there’s any open-face work around these parts I can tell you now somebody‘s going to hear a great big piece of imported glassware drop—an’ it'll drop hard.” “You must have a lot on your conscience, Hanrahan, to get so worked up over it. If you haven't, you needn't be so scared,” McWhorter retorted, stung into resent- ment by the catcher’s string of insults. “No, by thunder! I ain’t—— “Quit chewing th’ rag with him, Bill,” interrupted Dol- _ liver, without looking up from tying his shoe laces. “It _ don’t bring you nothin’ on th’ scoreboard to make talk with a stool pigeon. vAny man that’ll give a pal the dou- ble cross- “What's that?” said McWhorter, jumping to his feet. “Take that back, Dolliver; you don’t know what you’re talking about.” “Take nothin’ back,syou crooked dub.” ___. McWhorter took a step toward Dolliver, and as he 7 did so Hanrahan smashed him full in the eye. At the _ same instant the angry first baseman sprang at him, and the big fellow found himself in a whirling, smashing * rough-and-tumble with two of his teammates. The _ others sat around the dressing room, gazing at the spec- _tacle with keen enjoymert. O’ Leahy would have gone to “We the pitcher’s aid, but the center fielder—also a fighting _Itishman—stopped him with a belligerent. note in his “Look here, you big ice . me.” WEEKLY. 27 “You let that mix-up alone. He’s big enough to lick ‘em both.” The suddenness. of the attack overwhelmed McWhor- ter at first. Both of his opponents were large, powerful men, though not so formidable in mere bulk as himself, and the fury with which they hurled themselves upon him sent him to the floor. But Dolliver, in his rage, aimed a kick at the prostrate pitcher. It did not land, but the thought of its intent roused all the primal fighting man in the young sour He raised himself from the floor with a tremendous heave of his great shoulders, flung off his assailants, and, suddenly facing Dolliver, drove his left fist against the baseman’s jaw. The veteran was hurled back against the wall of the room by the terrific force of the blow. But Hanrahan, who was a skilled boxer, was pulverizing MecWhorter’s face with left jabs and avoiding his terrific swings by clever footwork. The enraged giant, seeing the futility of attempting to hurt the catcher by boxing with him, suddenly rushed upon him, taking a perfect rain of blows in the face, and grasped him in a crushing embrace. He lifted Hanrahan clear of the floor and hurled him through the air. Hanrahan’s body struck one of the wooden seats and crumbled up there into a still heap. McWhorter turned toward Dolliver, but the latter slipped down to the floor, holding up his hands piteously. Controlling, with great difficulty, the demon of rage that was lashing him to frantic fury, McWhorter let him alone and walked to the center of the 1 room. “Now!” he cried, his eyes blazing. ‘“Now, you cow- ards, all of you come! I'll fight the whole bunch of you at once!” Not a man stirred; perhaps they were not all afraid, EA but the awful fury and strength they had just witnessed filled them with an indescribable awe and an admiration for the man as well as his powers. McWhorter stood a moment, glating at them fiercely, his shoulders squared and his great chest heaving with the mighty pumping of his heart. When at length he saw that none of them was going to take up his challenge, he slowly cooled down. “The next man that calls me a crook I’ll treat in ‘the’ Nite “J don’t care a damn same way,” he said forcefully. I’m here to play whether you fellows like me or not. ball, and I’m going to play the best I know how, with- out caring what you think of me. But.if any one of you \ calls me a stool pigeon again or a sneak I'll choke the words down his throat. Now you've got it right.” He finished his dressing, and walked out of the room. When Stahl heard of it he looked grave. ‘Those boys purposely drew you into that scrap, Mac “though they didn’t expect to get such a tough wallop- ing. Hanrahan’s laid up for a couple of days—and just when we need him most. I only hope you don’t hear — anything more of it from higher up. I wouldn’t be sur- prised, though, if the Board of Control has 2 be up ef 4 investigation.’ swe “Oh, I think not, Zeke. They haven't any case against _ “Then they’ll make one, if it’s worth while,” the cap- tain replied bitterly. A week later McWhorter received a telegram fron Predtaunt Hackett, of the National League, ordering hina to appear before the board the second day thereafter and show cause why he should not be expelled from - league > insubordination, for Bron moras a ,” he said; — 28 TP tor other and peaceable players, and for conduct prejtdicial to the good name of the sport of baseball. “Well, T’ll be hanged!” said Mac to little O’Leahy when he had chewed the telegram over in his mind. “Why don’t they charge me with murder, arson, stealing bases, playing tiddledewinks, and being a disguised fe- tale? There'd be just as much sense in the. charges and a whole lot more fun proving them. I suppose Han- rahan, Dolliver, and Ziegler are all puppets of Knox, ‘and I'm up against a tall lot of swearing that white is black.” CHAPTER VI. CONFRONTING THE DIRECTORS. The trial of McWhorter before the directors and offi- cials of the league was to take place in a private room of the Fifth Avenue Hotel, in New York. It was supposed to be a solemn judicial ceremony, with witnesses and _ arguments, and everybody was to get a square deal, The _,directors themselves were to act in the double capacity ‘of counsel and jury, with President Hackett as a kind of quasi judge. It was easy to conjecture that the complaining wit- nesses would surely include in their number Hanrahan | and Dolliver, but how many more there might be would - only be a matter for conjecture. And if Knox were at the bottom of the prosecution, as Stahl had convinced _ McWhorter, then the pitcher had no small job before him to keep in the league. _. “Anyhow, Til get a chance to see this fellow Knox,” _ Mac told his captain; ‘and that will be something.” At two o’clock the following Saturday afternoon Mc- - Whorter stood in the presence of the president of the National League and the august directors in their council _ chamber at the Fifth Avenue Hotel. He fully expected _ to see Hanrahan, Dolliver, and a small host of his ac- _ cusers there with them, but the important-looking judi- diary of the baseball world sat quite alone, wrapped pro- ~ foundly in an air of secrecy and the evanescent vapors of Havanas. The directors formed two solemn rows at posite sides of a long, polished oaken table. President ackett presided at the head, and the secretary of the ard ornamented the foot of the table with his fastidi- isly dressed person, — - McWhorter had never been introduced: to any of the gentlemen present, but he had seen Hackett and one or , two others. Indeed he was very much astonished at re- calling two of the faces and the place where he had last seen them. He rehearsed vividly in his mind the night é ad seen them with Ziegler in one of the private “stalls” of a notorious Pittsburg pool room. he two men sat together, about the middle of one é solernn rows flanking the table. One was a stout, aced individual of the typical “sporty” class, while - ther was a young man dressed correctly in afternoon attire e rigueur. His face was handsome, bold, and ut- r tinscrupulous. McWhorter: was hardly astonished” when he secretary, introducing him to the assemblage, e young man Mr. Knox and his nearest asso- Mr. Landers. He felt that they. were two of. ay d that he knew the game they played. All mis-. ; might have had as to his fate with the board at rest; he knew he held the best cards, and ained for him to play. them with bsg skill WEEKLY. read to the council a bare report from Captain Stahl, setting forth that McWhorter had been ordered to re- port to Washington on the morning of the tenth of April, and that he actually reported twelve hours later, but with the good excuse of having been in a train wreck. It was on this bald report, which had been imperatively demanded of the Senators’ captain, that the charges of insubordination were based, and McWhorter could not help a tiny flame of anger from rising within him as he saw how he was to be “railroaded” to the bench on the very flimsiest of pretexts. But the next paper was more serious. It was a long complaint to the effect that since he had joined the Wash- ington aggregation his presence had been a menace to the welfare of the team; that he had repeatedly quar- reled with his teammates; had acted in a surly and un- gracious manner; had influenced the captain against them; and finally had, without other provocation than the justifiable criticism of his playing by the grievers, brutally assaulted one of the players and had only been prevented from doing him great bodily harm by the in- tervention of another player. The paper ended with a request that, for the good of the team, he be retnoved from the pitching staff of the Senators, and, to the big Georgian’s astonishment, was signed by every player in the Washington bunch except Stahl, O’Leahy, and him- self, “The cowardly scamps!’’ he thought. ‘They do what- ever they are bidden, and don’t care a red whether ith... right or not. It’s all the good it’ll do ’em.” . Mr. Landers arose ‘and addressed the president. He _ said that they had called the pitcher before them because they did not want to take any action against him with- Fe a out having given hima fair trial, but he must warn the © defendant that he, the speaker, was by the gravity and sincerity of the charges, matter.” He should be glad to listen to the defense of the accused, et cetera, et cetera. The boy was boiling inwardly, but he kept himself wake under control when he arose to his feet and faced the — directors without a trace of nervousness in voice or mae : ner. pat Very briefly he narrated. the tecessary circumstances. of the train robbery which had made him a day late in. reporting to Stahl, and characterized the insubordination — chargé as so absurd as to be unworthy of notice. Then — he turned his attention to the fight between himself, Han-— rahan, and Dolliver in the Washington Park dressing. rooms, and gave all the circumstarices fully, nea bat with all the dramatic power he could CORREO < “What I did,” he declared, in conclusion, “any, ot er. real man would have done in a similar position. ill defend my action before this board and before veve player in the country, if need be. For some reason ‘not clear to me the’majority of the Senators have a grievance against me—but that will never prevent me from p ing with them and doing my best always to win. I Weld no malice and will make no trouble, but I will defenc , myself from- calumny when. my. calumniators are ort! while.” . When he sat dows the cslpreahn: on the pe of sev- ! mbets of the board told him that he h ed them with the propriety of his °O them: lata tet toh with the “deeply impressed ry BTL GER, 8 remembering previous incidents in Mr. McWhorter’s ca- | reer, he * ‘did not propose_to take any light view of the =| 24P; LOR tion of supporting the young pitcher. But before he could secure the president’s recognition McWhorter saw Knox give Landers a hurried whisper and a nudge; the latter sprang up in his seat. “Mr. President,” he said unctuously, “I must compli- ment the young gentleman on the excellence of his de- fense. But this is not the first time that he has wrought disaffection among his fellow players; and it seems. to me that, for the reputation and integrity of the National League, we cannot afford to retain pitchers or players, no matter how professionally proficient they may be, who are thorns in the flesh of their comrades or trouble- makers in the league teams. I recall the fact that some years ago this young man accused a very well-known player—one whose reputation is the highest for per- sonal integrity—of misdeeds and crookedness. The ac- cusation brought down upon the head of the accused the punishment of this board, although there never was sufficient proof of his guilt to warrant any such action. But the man still suffers from the stigma. Now we have Mr. McWhorter before us charged with making trouble among the players again, and trouble of so ser‘- ous a nature that it threatens to break up the team. It seems to me the fault cannot be with other people, but _ must lie in the inharmonious personality of this young ‘man; and it is my best judgment that we ought, at least, to discipline him with suspension for the season.” McWhorter was on his feet before the other had ceased talking. His blond mane bristléd with aggres- _siveness; his chin was set like a very rock of, Gibraltar for firmness; in his eyes there was the hard burnished glitter of the fighting man setting himself to swing, and swing hard. _. “Mr. President”—his words were tense and slipped through the rifts of cigar smoke like the hum of bullets over a battle ground—“I came here to answer certain _ charges with my side of the story, and I have presented _ that side. I did not know you were going back to ancient _ history, but the gentleman who has just preceded me has referred to the part I took in securing the suspen-. _ sion of Mr. Otto Ziegler, a fellow player with me on “a the Pittsburg team at one time. I would never have men- _ tioned the subject, but since it has been brought up I want to state here arid now that the facts concerning — _ Mr. Ziegler were facts personally gathered by me, and I can prove them true. Had I been called before you at the time, instead of the case being presented to you in a roundabout way, Ziegler would not now be playing” on any diamond in the world. me “However, he alone need not bear the brunt of his _crookedness and its penalty. If this board wants to go into the matter, feeling that an injustice has been done _to any one, I will give facts that will startle you and cause certain people who sit in high places to squirm. _ I mention no names now, but there are at least two men, at this moment sitting not a thousand miles from Broadway, who are involved in more crookedness con- erning baseball than Ziegler ever dreamed of. If they hallenge me I will prove it. Let the Man and his Man riday come out in the open and fight me, if they dare! _ If the Ziegler business is not closed by the will ofthis board, I will gladly reopen it—and we will see who are e real trouble-makers in the National League.” The Man and his Man Friday sat astounded. 1 hey A Sites “ay uv tickets to de game, won’t youse?? had not dreamed he would dare fight; and everything ad been arranged for railroading him without a qualm — WEEKLY. 2 as to how it was done.- But if they wére astounded, Knox, at least, was by no means stupefied. McWhorter had thrown a bombshell, but the missile was only fam- ing; it had not yet exploded. Knox knew he must not let it explode. Smiling with the bland innocence of a Chinese pickpocket, he turned languidly to President Hackett. “Sir, I think Mr. McWhorter has misunderstood the temper of this board and its desires toward him. Surely we have nothing but the kindest feelings toward him, and only admiration for his baseball ability. I confess that, like Mr. Landers, I was deeply impressed by the charges made by the members of his team against him until I heard his story—and then, unlike Mr. Landers, I was convinced of the entire justice of his position. It seems to me that this board does not wish to concern itself . with the Ziegler matter, since, as Mr. McWhorter says, - it is ancient history. Neither do I think it would be dignified in us to notice Mr. McWhorter’s insinuations reflecting on parties unknown who might have been 'con- nected with that affair. Our business, it seems to me, is only with the written charges filed during the past week against him, and as I am convinced that they cer- tainly lack sufficient merit to justify us in purlishing him, I move that the charges against Mr. McWhorter be dis- missed.” A%, , The farce was over. Knox’s notion was put and car- ried with only Landers dissenting, the astute Knox hav- ing ordered him to do so to heighten the illusion. The baseball magnate-gambler had failed in his scheme, but he was clever enough to realize it instantly and save himself from ruin. As McWhorter left the room he ould not help feeling elated with his victory; but there was a feeling of admiration in his breast at the thought — a The man knew when to bluff and | of Knox’s. keenness. when to lay down. Coming out of the entrance to the hotel, McWhorter _ almost ran against the stately figure of Mrs. Chandler; their recognition was. mutually pleasant, and the profes- sional baseball pitcher dined at her home that evening. CHAPTER VII. GIANT AND URCHINS. Kh They were idling together down one of the pleasantest walks in Central Park. It was a warm October after- — noon, and presently sagacious old Sol drove them to a rustic seat beneath the shade of some widespreading ma- ples, whose leaves were reddening with the autumnal glo The merry old sun seemed to wink a jovial beaming eye as the young girl let her gloved hand rest lightly for a moment on one of the young man’s gigantic shoulde His solar majesty was wondrous wise in the ways 0: that world which he had watched from its birth out of primordial chaos, and in the girl’s gesture he detected ¢ tenderness of which she was all unconscious. ae Two ragged little urchins that had béen following the pair for the last five minutes through the park now camé up and stood before them in a manner of mixed adoration and audacity. The elder of the two presently se up his courage to the point of speech. — “Say, Mister McWhorter, give Mickey an’ me | The giant looked at the youngster as thou h he sa an oddly shaped arm growing out of the boy’s che: Mickey squirmed first on one foot and then on th ¢ F - membrance of business. 30 PASS Pare, “No, I won't, you little rascals,” the young man an- swered, with unwonted annoyance in his voice. ‘‘Now, you kids, -scamper, and don’t be hanging around me any more.” The abashed gamins retreated to a safe distance, and then the elder gave vent to his chagrin: “Aw, say, youse is all swelled up, ain’t youse? Gittin’ chesty ’cause youse won de game yistiday. Say, wot de New Yoiks’ll do to youse won’t be nuttin’ ’tall, huh! Got a goil, too!” The boy’s parting shot was sent with inimi- table disdain. “What does he mean?” aaked the young woman, in be- wilderment. “How did he know your name?’ “Search me!” replied the young man, eee refuge behind noncommittal slang; but his face was lined with deep annoyance. The girl returned to the subject. “T’ve noticed it every time we've gone out together. The newsboys all follow you on foot or turn around and follow you with their eyes. And if we are walking past a hotel or any of those horrid sporting resorts the men all stare at you as if you were some freak that had escaped from a museum. Why is it? Are you really famous— and am I ignorant of it?” McWhorter laughed uneasily. “I’m not more famous than you know, Miss Chandler, I suppose. But I guess my big hulk of a body must make me a’ mark for peo- ple’s curiosity. All boys, and men who are interested it physical prowess, are admirers of meat and bone. How those boys knew my name is more than I can tell. When I played fodtball at college I used to have my name and pictures in all the sporting papers, but I suppose it’s hardly likely those kids would remember me from them. . But there’s no telling.” | Miss Chandler was not satisfied. Hers was a keen mind even if she were unsophisticated outside of the world in _ which she moved, and she would have there and then at- _. tempted to solve the puzzle, controversially, at least. But McWhorter was sidestepping continually now what he _ ‘knew must inevitably—and very soon—transpire: a full explanation to her of his means of barra a living. He had not the courage to tell her when he knew her aver- sion to it. Now he choked off the conversation abruptly. “Let us find a hansom,” he said. “I must meet some men at my hotel for important business within an hour. I will take you home and then ask you to excuse me.” _ Miss Chandler complied with his request, though she was somewhat nettled at his manner and his sudden re- is Consequently conversation in the -hansom languished, and McWhorter had some time for reflection. : During the sities summer season he had seen. aids MChandler at every opportunity, though that had not been often, because of his travels through the country with the Senators. By almost herculean “feats of mental skill, _ aided by her lack of interest and few points of contact _ with professional sports, he had kept her from the knowl- edge of his work up to the present time. He knew she supposed him to be vaguely connected with the growing and marketing of cotton, since his family were South- erners, and he had told her that they had always lived on 2. ‘Georgia plantation. But now McWhorter could plainly. _ see breakers ahead. | esterday he had pitched the third in the deven- -game_ championship series between the Senators and the New York Giants for the supremacy of the league. Almost entire Haale a own naneeereeenng } ae Wash- WEEKLY. ington team had worked up during the season from the lowest rung in the ladder. of baseball fame to a place at the side of the generally conceded champions, and this, the last week of the season, witnessed the final contest be- tween the two leading teams for the pennant. He was forced to pitch every alternate game in the series because the New Yorkers were wonderful stickers, and simply batted Washington’s other two pitchers out of the box. But they could not solve his wonderful delivery, and, should he be able to play all four of the games scheduled for him, the men from the national capital would surely emerge from the contest victorious. With- out him at his best in each contest they would be smoth- | ered in defeat. McWhorter had won the first and third games, and all the sporting world was ringing with his praise. The second game had been a gift to the Giants, and he well knew, without waiting for the evening papers, that to- day the New Yorkers would even up the score. To- morrow he would probably win again, and then, if he still had strength enough to carry off the laurels in Sat- urday’s final contest, he would be hailed as the greatest pitcher in the world by the enthusiastic fans. Sitting in the hansom and ruminating upon his situa- tion, McWhorter felt certain that some misguided in- former would let slip 'a word to Miss Chandler that would enlighten her but too truly about his real life. Of late he had been troubled greatly witlr vague, half- formed resolutions to forsake the gaine altogether. He knew that his only incentive for doing so would be the hope of ultimately marrying the splendid girl that now sat at his side. But could that ever be? He had not the slightest reason for believing it, beyond her always frank and cordial friendliness from. the night of their first meeting. He told himself that he had loved her with all his soul from the very hour when he saw her on the plat- . form at the Knoxville depot; that he would make any sacrifice for his love—but if it were going to be futile, why make any sacrifice at all? And.this rich, proud, aristocratic young woman— might she not despise him for his suit and his aspira- tidns when she learned of his career? He did not fear for anything else; his own family was descended from the proudest of Southerners, his education was equal to hers, and he was not ashamed of his manhood, As. they stopped before the entrance to her home a _ young man in ultrafashionable clothes! came down the steps. Miss Chandler walked toward him, with her hand . extended. © VN OY, Harold!” She exclaimed. “I am so glad I was just in time. Mamma has gone to lehd her pres- ence to the Colonial Dames, and we were enjoying the beauties of the park. You must come right back. Oh, — I almost forgot; this is Mr. McWhorter, Mr. Knox.” The two men extended their hands lamely, as though a each had a\pain in his arm. They looked at each other | through half-drawn eyelids for a moment, stiddenly tried : to overdo one another in politeness, and tacitly ignored , the fact that they had met before. The young pitcher effusively declined the pressing invitations of both Knox _ and Miss Chandler to join them over a cup of tea, and stepped back into the hansom, which bore him 1 rapidly - downtown, pee TO BE CONTINUED. — ‘ ae " apd see boats. be eich, Indignant at Russia. The Chinese republican leaders are indig- nant over certain Russian claims in Mon- golia, which might lead to a division of the country. The Chinese are determined to resist any attempt at such division. Doc- tor Wu Ting Fang, formerly minister to the United States, and Wen Tsung Yao say that if the statement given out by the gov- ernment in regard to these claims is cor- rect, Russia is trying to take advantage of China’s troubles for her own selfish com- mercial ends. They express the hope that Russia’s action has been misconstrued, but ‘otherwise, the republicans say, they will resist the Russian claims and do their ut- most to maintain-the integrity of China. Russian interference, they say, is likely to have a most deplorable influence on the ‘general international relations, and is cal- culated to awaken an antiforeign feeling in China. European Conflict Feared. The Norwegian cabinet, at Christiania, has resolved to propose to the Storthing that it vote an extraordinary credit of 16,500,000 kroner ($4,125,000) for the de- velopment of Norway’s naval defense. The plan would add to the present navy two armored cruisers and a flotilla of torpedo It includes as well the construction ‘of fortfications along the western coast. The general feeling throughout Norway is in favor of protecting Norwegian waters, it is believed, will be the scene of . battle in a future war between great pow- te OLB Canada’s Share in Niagara. Among the questions to come up for dis- cussion during the present session of the Canadian House of Commons, at Ottawa, _ will be the proposition to render deep- water navigation possible from the mouth of the Richelieu River, at Sorel, up that river through Lake Champlain and Lake George to Albany, and thence to New York -and the Long Sault dam project. A joint ‘commission will hear ¢omplaints southern Alberta and Montana regarding the diversion of the St. Mary’s and Milk Rivers for irrigation purposes, and will dis- cuss the division of the water supply at ee ane Falls equally between Canadae and f ete. nited States, Would End Capital Punishment. Fakeut Bi Scott, New York State super- intendent of prisons, would abolish. the death chair, In a recent interview he said: “T am religious and sentimental, enough to believe that only God has the right to : eG human. life; by the perpetration of the death pen- ae and the. general effect upon a com- at the time that he can be but little | by the punishment of that crime if detected. The statistics in the States! abolished capital punishment do v ake greater proportion of mur- ti ion than before; neither do. ee proportion: of oP ‘University of Berlin. from | that civilization is low-. unity, which inflicts it is bad. The state | ind of the man who commits murder bie OP WV ERY NEWS ITEMS OF INTEREST. to population than similar communities where the death penalty is inflicted. Public sentiment is such that it is more difficult to obtain convictions where the death penalty is in vogue.’ New Envoy to Brazil. President Taft recognized merit only and not politics, according to state department, when he recently appointed Edwin V. Mor- gan as ambassador to Brazil. At the time of his appointment, Mr. Morgan was min- ister to Portugal. Mr. Morgan, who was born at Aurora, New York, February 22, 1865, is a graduate of Harvard and of the From 1892 to 1894 he was instructor in history at. Harvard, and at Adelbert College from 1895 to 1808, In 18099 he was secretary to the United States commissioner to the -Samoan_Is- lands; in 1900 deputy consul general at Seoul. and in 1901 second secretary of the embassy at St. Petersburg. He was ap- pointed consul at Dalny in 1904, and min- ister to Corea in 1905. From the Corean post he was transferred to Cuba, where he served as minister until 19090, when he was transferred to Uruguay. He was appointed minister to Portugal by President Taft last year. German Election Quiet. What many people regarded as Ger- many’s most important general election since the formation of the empire was held throughout the country without any re- ported disturbance. Despite the fact that the political campaigners endeavored to make the voters believe that there would be a change in the whole political system of the State, everything progressed without undue excitement.” Late returns show that the Socialists have made a net gain of four- teen seats, having won sixteen and _ lost two. So far the Conservatives have lost three seats, the Centrists one, National Liberals five, and the Progressives seven. It is estimated that the total aggregate vote will Le 4,000,600, Brazilian Revolution. Asa result of the tense political situation in Brazil, the minister of marine resigned. The governor of Bahia, where there were disturbances bordering on a revolution, also resigned. The trouble at Bahia arose over the refusal of the State government to carry out a judgment of the Federal court granting a writ of habeas corpus in the cases of some opposition deputies. Rioting broke out, and Fort Sao Marcella shelled the government building, which caught fire and was destroyed. The shops in the city were closed, and business was in a state of turmoil. i ‘Possible South American War. War between: Salvador and Guatemala is ~The state department at Wash- information that President imminent. ington has: C abrera, of the latter country, has increased his ‘border troops to 4,000 men instead of reducing them, as he had promised; that he has been constructing Sleota sk and tele4 phone communication Ee, moment. cera points, and making other warlike prepara- tions. William Heimke, the American minister to Salvador, reports that great excitement prevails in that country, and a Guatemalan invasion is expected at any Minister Hitt, of Guatemala, has been instructed by the state department to remind President Cabrera that his conyen- tions with the United States government require him to be strictly neutral when civil war is disturbing a neighboring country and to keep under guard refugees from such a country. According to reports, the conventions have been violated, two Sal- vadorian refugees, Leon A. Barrahona and Prudencio Alfaro, being with the Guate- malan forces. The Republican Convention. 7 Senator Penrose, of Pennsylvania, de- nied that he had promised President Taft that the Pennsylvania delegation to the Republican National Convention would be solid for a renomination for the president. A dispatch from Washington stated that Senator Penrose had assured President Taft of the support of the delegation from that State. “TI had no right to say how the Pentisyl- | ; vania delegation will vote,” said Senator Penrose. “I believe, however, that the bulk of the delegation will be for President Tait.” re Senator Penrose, in answer to a question, said that he was aware that some anti-Taft sentiment existed in favor of Colonel Roosevelt, but he did not express an opin- ion as to what effect this sentiment would | have on the president’s chances for re % nomination. . Jack Johnson Sued. Twice. - Two suits haye been filed against Jacko Johnson, the pugilist, in the municipal court — at Chicago, one for the nonpayment of rent and another for a printing bill. The first suit was filed by attorneys for John W. Lindsay, owner of property at 3244 and — 3246 W abash Avenue. The. other suit was brought in the municipal court of New York by the Hageman Printing Company, — of that city, for a bill of $408.70, due on | printed matter that the pugilist issued some months ago. Judgment was obtained, : the suit is now filed in the municipal court of Chicago to recover on the judgnieot 3 Save Condemned Spaniards. - A peculiar situation recently nailed the Spanish government over the questi of -Cullera rioters, seven of whom wi sentenced to «death. The question was solved later when it was announced that only one of the men.would be executed. The cabinet was in a dilemma over the case, and the proposal to ask King Alfons pardon some of the men was discusse The Radicals and Republicans mn ~f organizations all over the country had petitions to Premier Canalejas and the other ministers, asking that the me doned, but the cabinet were worried offending the army men and the. vatives. It was thought that a eed be. fone whereby. 32 . the criminals would be sent to his death, while the other six men would be par- doned. Later it was announced that six of the men would serve a life sentence at hard labor, while Chato, the alias of a man named Corrall, will be executed. Woman Juror’s Predicament. ' Because the law in the State of Washing- ton holds that a jury must be held together in a murder case, Mrs. Betta Doddridge, a lone woman on the Bianchi murder jury, at Seattle, was ordered to sleep in the same room with the eleven men who were her colleagues. The trial judge held that her bed could be separated from the others by a screen, and that she should have the at- tendance of a woman bailiff. The defense raised the point, insisting even that a compromise screen was not a literal com- pliance with the law. The defense also in sisted that the separate retirement of the woman juror in company with a woman bailiff at any time for any purpose violated the provisions of the law. Killing Cueless Chinamen. A short time ago some of the troops sta- tioned at Lanchow, China, mutinied, but the imperial troops managed to quell the revolt in a short time. Latest advices re- port that the imperial troops are out of hand, and-the officers’ commands are dis- regarded. Fiendish brutality is being prac- _ticed. One rebel officer was flayed alive, and a Red Cross agent was shot. All who have cut off their cues have been executed. Binds Riches a Handicap. Wealth is a serious obstacle to ambitious young men, according to T. E. Kruttschnitt, assistant superintendent of the Tucson di- vision of the Southern Pacific, and son of Julius Kruttschnitt, director of maintenance of way of the Harriman system. The young man, who donned overalls and acted as an engine wiper when the shopmen struck, put his views in the following form, in an interview in San Francisco: “The wealthy man’s son who starts. out _in an humble position, as I did, is not taken seriously by his fellow workmen. They mate he is following some whim.” Epidemic of Measles. Without an invitation from the city au- coi thoritias, State Health Commissioner Sam- uel Dixon took charge of an epidemic of ‘measles at Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania, @ which had been raging for five weeks, claiming two victims and sending to bed 1,000 children. The mayor and the school ah authorities decided that the disease would not be spread by the schools, and decided not to close them, but in his notice to the mayor Doctor Dixon said he expected that the schools would be the first places he _ would order suspended until further notice. In one day 130 new cases were reported. New Fellowship Farm. Some of the original members of the ee ie colony of Arden, Delaware, have become displeased with the notoriety that ame to them all when Upton Sinclair and others were arrested and sent to the work- house for playing tennis and’ baseball on Sunday. he most interesting feature of he dissatisfaction is that those who seck to cut loose complain that under the ap- lication of the single-tax theory the rentals Ave become excessive. The erection “ot TIP TOP WEEKLY. some pretentious houses for the settlement has increased the taxes of the owners of the shacks and bungalows: -The revolt is headed by William Canby Ferris and R. Barclay Spicer, editor of the Friends’ In- telligencer, of Philadelphia. They are con- sidering a plan to secure a new site for a community settlement. The plan is to buy a, tract of sixty-five acres near Wilmington, forty persons to each buy an acre at $25, the remainder of the land to be cultivated in common. This place would be called Fellowship Farm. » Princeton’s New Head. The trustees of Princeton have elected John Grier Hibben fourteenth president of the university, to succeed Woodrow Wilson. A committee of the board, consisting of M. T. Payne, Doctor George B. Stewart, and Doctor John M. T. Finney, found Professor Hibben lecturing in one of his classes and brought him to the trustees’ room in the chancellor-green library, where he took the oath of office. Professor Hib- ben is a graduate of Princeton’in the class of 1882, and has been a member of the faculty since 1891, and is at present occupy- ing the Stuart chair of logic. Sent Teeth to Laundry. The enemies of Governor Vessey, of South Dakota, are grinning over an inci- dent that caused him great personal em- barrassment and kept the progressive Re- publican State convention, held at Sioux Falls, waiting for him. When the time came for the governor to leave his hotel for the convention, which he was to ad- dress, he found that he could not find his false teeth. Diligent search was made for them in vain, and the governor was in de- spair until word gine? came from a laun- dry that the teeth had been found in bed linen sent from the hotel. \News for the Fat. Doctor: -Hikada, a Japanese scientist liv- ing in Breslau, Germany, has published a book that will interest all fat persons. The book is éntitled “Good News For Fat Men,” and is the result of years of experimental work, part of which was conducted in co- operation with Professor Neisser, one of Germany’s most famous surgeons. Doctor Hikada says that, contrary to the general opinion, the thinner a man is the more germs he has on his skin. The average healthy man has 1,520 germs to a square centimeter (.394 of an inch), but fat men have 20 per cent fewer than the lean, and men have many more than women. More- over, warm baths have little effect in killing bacteria unless a cold douche follows after- ward. Many salves increase the germs, but washing with spirit kills them. i Harvard’s New ‘‘Fellow.”’ The board of-overseers of Harvard Uni- versity, at a recent meeting, confirmed the choice of Robert Bacon, formerly United States Ambassador to France, and before that assistant secretary of state, to be a fellow of Harvard University in place of Judge Lowell, deceased. In_ discussing his retirement from the diplomatic service, Am bassador Ba¢on said he wished. his, Sofa! to know that there was no ulterior motive for his resignation. He had been long and earnestly intérested in Harvard and_ had -been for seventeen years a member of the board of overseers. He vou not, he said, in the worl future, will use the decline the honor of becoming a fellow of Harvard University, which he considered: to be the best single influence for good in America. Lion’s Friend to Hospital. The keeper in the lion house of the Cen- tral Park menagerie, in New York City, happened to be out of the building when a man got over the railing and unlocked the door of the cage of Bismarck, one of the ~ biggest lions in the collection. He had the door partly opened, and the lion was approaching, when a policeman entered and shouted at the man. The.man let go of the door, which fell and closed by its own weight. The man was arrested and taken toa police station, “That is my lion, and I want to take him out for a walk. ‘Mr. Taft gave him to me for a pet,” the prisoner said. The lion’s friend was sent to Bellevue for observation. Suffragette to Jail. In the Old Bailey police court, in London, England, Emily Davison, a suffragette, was sentenced to six months’ imprisonment for dropping pieces of paper saturated with kerosene and matches into mail boxes. Miss Davison had been prominent in the ranks of the militant suffragists. She was. once arrested for an attack on a govern- ment official, and at another time was fined for breaking windows in the House of Lords. Control of Big Business. — Andrew Carnegie, in the course of his testimony in the investigation of the Steel Trust before the Stanley cofnmittee, at Washington, lined up with Colonel Roose- velt on the subject of corporate regulation. “Here are two big thoughts on this sub-. ject having expression in the United States,” said Representative Gardner, addressing the witness. “One has been voiced by Mr. Roosevelt, who recommends government — control of these industrial units; the other is given utterance by the present adminis- tration in certain suits which provide for | the dissolution of modern corporations. _ With whom do you stand on this question, — Theodore Roosevelt or President Taft?” “T am in accord with the position taken by Colonel Roosevelt,” Mr. Carnegie re- plied. . “I understand his views, have dis- cussed them with him, and agree with his conclusions.” ; Harvard Bar on Women. Women may not give lectures or ad- dresses of any nature in the halls of Harvard University in the future except upon invitation of the Harvard corpora- — tion. The corporation so voted, the action — ‘| being the outcome of the recent controversy — ‘4 over the refusal to permit Mrs. Emmeline | | Pankhurst, the English suffragette, to ee i in a Harvard hall. Mexico to Try Postal Banks. Mexico has decided that the sostslly -sav- 4 ings ge the United States is the best have recommended the certificate of de- — posit idea used in this country as superior — to the pass-book methods of Enropean countries. In consequence Mexico, whe it opens postal-savings banks in the near merican Soeer ; After examining the plans in use in various countties, Mexican officials rh AS or th 1e aS ac of 18 ‘pt ‘a- on ‘SY ne est ns als le- ior an en sar ents ictal 2a i Sea ee OTRAS A ss SE OS ae Or ALL, OF THE BACK NUMBERS OF TIP TOP WEEKLY THAT CAN NOW BE SUPPLIED 511—Dick Merriwell in the Ring. 512—F rank Merriwell’s New Idea. 513—F rank Merriwell’s Trouble. 514—F rank Merriwell’s Pupils. 515—Dick Merriwell’s Satisfaction. 516—Dick Merriwell’s Discernment. 598—Dick Merriwell’s Influence. 599—Frank Merriwell’s Worst Boy. 600—Frank Merriwell’s Annoyance. 601—Frank Merriwell’s Restraint. 602—Dick Merriwell Held Back. 608—Dick Merriwell in the Line. 517—Dick Merriwell’s Friendly Hand 604—Dick Merriwell’s Drop Kick. 518—Frank Merriwell’s New Boy. 519—Frank Merriwell’s Mode. 520—Frank Merriwell’s Aids. 521—Dick Merriwell’s Visit. 522—Dick Merriwell’s Retaliation. 528—Dick Merriwell’s Rival. 5§24—F rank Merriwell’s Young Crew. 525—Frank Merriwell’s Fast Nine. 526—Frank Merriwell’s Field. po Sete Merriwell’s Reprisal. 528—Dick Merriwell Dared. 5 anaes Merriwell’s Dismay. 30—Frank Merriwell’s Son. 5: 531—F rank Merriwell’s Old Flock. Athletic 612—Frank 605—F rank Merriwell’s Air Voyage. 606—Frank Merriwell’s Auto Chase. 607—F rank Merriwell’s Captive. 608—Dick Merriwell’s Value. 609—Dick Merriwell Doped. 610—Dick Merriwell’s Belief. 611—Frank Merriwell in the Mar- ke Merriwell’s Fight for Fortune. 618—F rank Merriwell on Top. 614—Dick Merriwell’s Trip West. 615—Dick Merriwell’s Predicament. 616—Dick Merriwell in Mystery Valley. 32_Frank Merriwell’s House Party 617—Frank Merriwell’s Proposition. 33] dick Merriwell’s Summer 34—Dick Merriwell’s Demand. —Frank Merriwell’s P roposal. 38—_F rank Merriwell’s hunters. 539—Dick Merriwell’s Cheek. 540—Dick Merriwell’s Sacrifice. 541—Dick Merriwell’s Heart. 542—Frank Merriwell’s New Auto. 543—F rank Merriwell’s Pride. 544—Frank Merriwell’s Winners. 545—Dick Merriwell’s Lead. 546—Dick Merriwell’s Influence. 547—Dick Merriwell’s Top Notck. 548—Frank Merriwell’s Kids. 549—Frank Merriwell’s Kodakers. 550—Dick Merriwell, Freshman. 551—Dick Merriwell’s Progress. 552—Dick Merriwell, Half-back. 553—Dick Merriwell’s Resentment. 554—Dick Merriwell Repaid. 555—Dick Merriwell’s Staying Power 556—Dick Merriwell’s ‘‘Push.” 557—Dick Merriwell’s Running. 558—Dick Merriwell’s Joke. 559—Dick Merriwell’s Seven. 560—Dick Merriwell’s Partner. 561—Dick Merriwell in the Tank. 562—F rank Merriwell’s Captive. 563—Frank Merriwell’s Trailing. 564—Frank Merriwell’s Talisman. 565—F rank Merriwell’s Horse. 566—Frank Merriwell’s Intrusion. 567—Frank Merriwell’s Bluff. 568—Dick Merriwell’s Regret. 569—Dick Merriwell’s Silent Work. 570—Dick Merriwell’s Arm. Shee Merriwell’s Skill. 572—Dick Merriwell’s Magnetism. 573 —Dick Merriwell’s System. 574—Dick Merriwell’s Salvation. §675—Dick Merriwell’s Twirling. 576—Dick Merriwell’s Party. 577—Dick Merriwell’s Backers. 578—Dick Merriwell’s Coach. 579—Dick Merriwell’s Bingle. 580—Dick Merriwell’s Hurdling, 581—Dick Merriwell’s Best Work. 582—Dick Merriwell’s Respite. 583—Dick Merriwell’s Disadvantage. 584—Dick Merriwell Beset. 586—Dick Merriwell’s Distrust. 587—Dick Merriwell, Lion Tamer. 588—Dick Merriwell’s Camp-site. 589—Dick Merriwell’s Debt. 590—Dick Merriwell’s Camp Mates, 591—Dick Merriwell’s Draw. 592—I Jick Merriwell’s Disapproval. 593—Dick Merriwell’s Mastery. 594—Dick Merriwell’s Warm Work. 595—Dick Merriwell’s Squeeze.” 596—Dick Mror riwell’s Vanishing. 597—Dick Merriwell Adrift. Team 618- 619—Frank Merriwell’s Suspicion. Spook- —Frank Merriwell Perplexed. 620—Dick Merriwell’s Gallantry. 621—Dick Merriwell’s Condition. 622—Dick Merriwell’s Stanchness. 623—Dick Merriwell’s Match. 624—Frank Merriwell’s Hard Case. 625—Frank Merriwell’s Helper. 626—F rank Merriwell’s Doubts. 627—Frank Merriwell’s “Phenom.” Young 628—Dick Merriwell’s Stand. 629—Dick Merriwell’s Circle. 630—Dick Merriwell’s Reach. See crete Merriwell’s Money. 2— Pick Merriwell Watched. 63 3E 3 Dic k Merriwell Doubted. 634—Dick Merriwell’s Distrust, 635—Dick Merriwell’s Risk. 636—Frank Merriwell’s Favorite. 637—F rank Merriwell’s Young Clippers. 635 ‘rank Merriwell’s Breakers. 640—Dick Merriwell’s Shoulder. 641—Dick Merriwell’s Desperate Work. 642—Dick Merriwell’s Example. 643—Dick Merriwell at Gale’s Ferry. 644—Dick Merriwell’s Inspiration. 645—Dick Merriwell’s Shooting. 646—Dick Merriwell in the Wilds. 647—Dick Merriwell’s Red Comrade. 648—Frank Merriwell’s Ranch. 649—F rank Merriwell in the Saddle. 650—Frank Merriwell’s Brand. 651—F rank Merriwell’s Red Guide. 652—Dick Merriwell’s Rival. 6583—Dick Merriwell’s Strength. 654—Dick Merriwell’s Secret Work. 655—Dick Merriwell’s Way. 656—Frank Merriwell’s Red Visitor. 657—F rank Merriwell’s Rope. 658—F rank Merriwell’s Lesson. 659—TI'rank Merriwell’s Protection. 660—Dick Merriwell’s Reputation. 661—Dick Merriwell’s Motto. 662—Dick Merriwell’s Restraint. 663—Dick Merriwell’s Ginger. 664—Dick Merriwell’s Driving. 665—Dick Merriwell’s Good Cheer. 666—F rank Merriwell’s Theory. 667—Frank Merriwell’s Diplomacy. 668—I’rank Merriwell’s Encour- agement. 669—F rank Merriwell’s Great Work. 670—Dick Merriwell’s Mind. 671—Dick Merriwell’s ‘‘Dip.” 672—Dick Merriwell’s Rally. 673—Dick Merriwell’s Flier. Se Record 674—F rank Merriwell’s Bullets. Krank Merriwell’s Cut Off. 675- “Double 676—Frank Merriwell’s Ranch Boss, 677—Dick Merriwell’s Equal. 678—Dick Merriwell’s Development. 679—-Dick Merriwell’s Eye. 680—Frank Merriwell’s Zest. 681—F rank Merriwell’s Patience. 682—F rank Merriwell’s Pupil. 683—Frank Merriwell’s Fighters. 684—Dick Merriwell at the ‘‘Meet.”’ 685—Dick Merriwell’s Protest. 686—Dick Merriwell in the thon. 687—Dick Merriwell’s (¢ olors. 688—Dick Merriwell, Driver 689—Dick Merriwell on the Deep. 690—Dick Merriwell in the North Woods. 691—Dick Merriwell’s Dandies. 692—Dick Merriwell’s Skyscooter. 693—Dick Merriwell in the : Mountains. 694—Dick Merriwell in Utah. 695—Dick Merriwell’s Bluff. 696—Dick Merriwell in the Saddle. 697—Dick Merriwell’s Ranch Friends Phantom 698—fFrank Merriwell at sake. 699—F rank Merriwell’s Hold-back. 700—Frank Merriwell’s Lively Lads. 701—Frank Merriwell as Instructor. 702—Dick Merriwell’s Cayuse. 703—Dick Merriwell’s Quir ke 704—Dick Merriwell’s Friend. 705—Dick Merriwell’s Best Form. 706—Dick Merriwell’s Prank. 707—Dick Merriwell’s Gambol. 708—Dick Merriwell’s Gun. 709—Dick Merriwell at His Best. 0—Dick Merriwell’s Master Mind. 1—Dick Merriwell’s Dander. —Dick Merriwell’s Hope. —Dick Merriwell’s Standard. Dick Merriwell’s Sympathy. —Dick Merriwell in Land. 6—F rank Merriwell’s Fairness. on —Frank Merriwell’s Pledge. 719—F 2 3 4— 5 1 1 1 1i 1 a 1 1 1 Frank Merriwell, Grit. rank slow. 0—F rank Merriwell’s Quest. 1—F rank Merriwell’s Ingots. 22—F rank Merriwell’s Assistance. 23—Frank Merriwell at Throttle. 724—Frank Merriwell, Ready. —Frank Merriwell in Diamond Lan 726—Frank ‘Meerinéll’a Desperate Chance, 727—Fre ae Merriwell’s Black Merriwell’s Return » » the Always wo (2 Ter- 728——-Fr: Py “Merriwell Again on the Slab. 729—Frank Merriwell’s Hard Game. 730—Frank Merriwell’s Six-in-hand. 731—F rank Merriwell’s Duplicate. —Frank Merriwell on Rattle- snake Ranch. 33—Frank Merriwell’s Sure Hand. 34——F rank Merriwell’s Treasure Map 5—Frank of of p. Merriwell, the Rope. 736—Dick Merriwell, the Varsity. 87—Dick Merriwell’s Control. V¢ 28-Dic k Merriwell’s Back Stop. 839—Dick Merriwell’s Masked En- emy. 0—Dick Merriwell’s Motor Car. —Dick Merriwell’s Hot Pursuit. —Dick Merriwell at Forest Lake, 3_Dick Merriwell in Court. —Dick Merriwell’s Silence. 5—Dic k Merriwell’s Dog. —~Dick Merriwell’s Subter fuge. Dick Merriwell’s Enigma. 8—Dick Merriwell Defeated. Prince Captain = = Tatatadteq-t y=] eat cae His G19 HS Di Mara- Elk Freshman Lumber 7 the Man of the 812- 749—Dick Merriwell’s “Wing.” 750—Dick Merriwell’s Sky Chase. 751—-Dick Merriwell’s Pick-ups. 52—Dick Merriwell on the Rocking R 53—Diek Merriwell’s Penetration. —Dick Merriwell’s Intuition. t 5—Dic k Merriwell’s Vantage, i—Dick Merriwell’s Advice. —Dick Merriwell’s Rescue. —Dick Merriwell, American. 9—Dick Merriwell’s Understand- ing. 760—Dick Merriwell, Tutor. 761—Dick Merriwell’s Quandary. 762—Dick Merriwell on the Boards. 763—Dick Merriwell, Peacemaker. 764—F rank Merriwell’s Sway. 765—Frank Merriwell’s Compre- hension. 766—F rank Merriwell’s Acrobat. 767—Frank Merriwell’s Tact. 768—Frank Merriwell’s Unknown. 769—Frank Merriwell’s Acuteness. . 770—Frank Merriwell’s Young Canadian. 71—Frank Merriwell’s Coward. 2—Frank Merriwell’s Perplexity. 3—Frank Merriwell’s Interven- tion. 4—F rank Merriwell’s Daring Deed SM ‘ank Merriwell’s Succor. 6—Frank Merriwell’s Wit. 7—Frank Merriwell’s Loyalty. ) oO— 1 2— Young 8—F rank Merriwell’s Bold Play. —Frank Merriwell’s Insight. Frank Merriwell’s Guile. —Frank Merriwell’s Campaign. ‘rank Merriwell in the Na- tional Forest. 783—Frank Merriwell’s Tenacity. 784—Dick Merriwell’s Self-sacrifice. 785—Dick Merriwell’s Close Shave. 786—Dick Merriwell’s Perception, 787—Dick Merriwell’s Mysterious Disappearance. 788—Dick Merriwell’s Work 789—Dick Merriwell’s Proof. 790—Dick Merriwell’s Brain Work. 791—Dick Merriwell’s Queer Case. 792—Dick Merriwell, Navigator. 793—Dick Merriwell’s Good Fellow- ship. 794—Dick Merriwell’s 795—I dee? ae ell’s 7 7 7 A 7 qT g 8 8 rr Detective Fun. Commence- nt. 796—Dick “Merriwell at Montauk Point. 797—Dick Merriwell, Mediator. 798—Dick Merriwell’s Decision. 799—Dick Merriwell on the Great Lakes. 800—Dick Merriwell Caught Nap- ping. 801—Dick Merriwell in the Copper Country. 802—Dick Merriwell Strapped. 803—Dick Merriwell’s Coolness. 804—Dick Merriwell’s Reliance. 805—Dick Merriwell’s College Mate. 806—Dick Merriwell’s Young Pitcher. 807—Dick Merriwell’s Prodding. S808—Frank Merriwell’s Boy. 809—Frank Merriwell’s ‘Interfer- ence. 810—F rank Merriwell’s Warriors. 811—Frank Merriwell’s Appraisal. —~Frank Merriwell’s Forgiveness 813—Frank Merriwell’s Lads. 814—F rank Merriwell’s Young Aviators. 815—Frank Merriwell’s Hot-head. 816—Dick Merriwell, Diplomat. 817—Dick Merriwell in Panama. 818—Dick Merriwell’s Perseverance. Young PRICE, FIVE CENTS PER CoPY If you want any back numbers of our ofictice and cannot procure them from your news-dealer, they can be obtained direet from this office. Postage-stamps taken the same as money. STREET & SMITH, PUBLISHERS, 79-89 SEVENTH AVE., NEW YORK