1 STRAT ADVE
1 OABRIASIAEI ||
PEM

 
  

Se ee

a

 

 

 

 

 
 

 

  

 

 
 
 

 

a) : ;
. ,
ah oat =
<
7
; =
/- : z ; %
2 4
~
.
‘ ane Z s zi r A t
: S : 9
: > Ss : 2 * _ " ; ‘
Zs » ~ 2 . 7
= ¥ F
7 ‘ fe 2 : =o: “ee -
; 4 : “5 Re. 4
: ‘i = = . 3
. ~ 4 z = “ ze
- : ’ - : 2
; Ss Sr ; y
* > 4 mck a og 5 . ee 7:
So : > =e : : 5 Z
° 2 e Na = vr 4
; : exe : 2 aa j
: < ea E

 

 
 

 

PLAY BALL AND WIN A UNIFORM OUTFIT FOR YOUR NINE.

See Rules for Tire Top Eleventh Annual Baseball Tournament on Page 32.

 

 

 

 

 

 

forthe Amiérican Youth pS.

—— 7

 

 

Issued Weekly. Application for entry as second-class matter pending. Published 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.)
Single Copies or Back Numbers, 5c. Each.
MNO TNCs sind hho 0 0.cng'sene doe ea chaes GB5C. ONE YCAF.cesee ceece rere sevnes sess 2.50
4 MONS ooo c ee cepee cecdceeedereres BOC, 2 COPIES ONO VEAL «sores rece  seeeee 4.00
6 months. ..---- + aes <9: Sea? <TR ee $1.25 1 Copy tWO YeaTS. .----6 veeeee ess eeee 4.00

 

 

 

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.

Receipts—Receipt of your remittance is acknowledged by proper change
of number on your label. If not correct you have not been properly credited,
and should let us know at once.

 

 

No. 837.

NEW YORK, April 27, 1912.

Price Five Cents.

Dick Merriwell and the Carlisle Warriors;

Or, THE MYSTERY OF THE KIDNAPED PITCHER.

By BURT L. STANDISH. |

CHAPTER Tf.
DIAMOND.

e

ON THE :

“Look out—watch his arm! Get a good lead! Wow!

Play off—play off! Watch his arm! Now—go!”
_, The runner was venturing as much as he dared. His
eyes were on the pitcher, with glances to see that he
did not get so far from the base he could not get back
if he drew a throw.

Then he saw the pitcher’s familiar and peculiar shoul-
der and arm swing, shot for second with almost the
speed of the wind, and, hurling himsélf sideways, thrust
a foot at the sawdust-filled bag, while his body fur-
rowed the dirt. ?

-. The ball came back from the catcher like a rifle bul-
let, plunked into the hands of the second baseman, and
- was on the runner.
witnesses. Behind the catcher, the umpire stooped low
to see under the dust cloud.
As he arose, he drawled lazily, as if he feared he
might betray some of the excitement he had felt:
“Runner out!”
The air became vociferous with protests.
“He was safe!”
“Oh, say, that’s awful
‘What kind of umpiring is this, anyway?”
The umpire looked at them nonchalantly. He had
delivered his decision, and meant to stand by it.
The grinning baseman tossed the ball back to the
pitcher, gave his glove a triumphant thump, and the man

99
!

an

There was a yelling roar from the:

who had perished at second took his way wearily to the
bench.

The Yale varsity was at practice with the scrub on
the Yale diamond, with no other spectators than the
men most deeply interested. Plays had been devised for
the purpose of promoting the art'of stealing bases, and
were being tried out. Base running isn’t the whole of
the game, but it is a considerable part of it.

Dick Merriwell was taking the keenest interest in this
practice work. With him stood other coaches.

They discussed the play that had been made, while
referring to certain figures set down on a sheet of paper
—the figures indicating what could be done if certain
speeds of ball and runner were attained, and everything
worked with machinelike precision. It is needless: to
say, that in an actual game machinelike precision is sel-
dom if ever secured. a3

When the figures were studied and compared with
what had been done, there was a further trial.

’ Then Dick Merriwell brought forward a play that he
believed might be worked successfully against the Car-
lisle Indians, who were to cross bats with Yale on the
New Haven grounds on Saturday.

“Yale had played Columbia, and had won, but there
had been nothing to boast about. There had been cer-
tain hampering conditions. Two Yale pitchers had been
practically knocked out before the game through the
murderous scheming of certain men who were deter-

mined that Yale should not win, and trouble of another

kind had greatly hampered a third. 5
Dick had thought ‘out a variation of the old double

 
 

chee Oe

which he hoped could be used against Carlisle's
who was known to have an almost
first on the sl] lightest

steal,
principal pitcher,
irrepressible tendency to throw to
provocation.

Baseball in its modern form is not an indiscriminate
hurly-burly, with every man doing the best that is in
him, yet generally on ‘his own initiate, but is a care-
fully thought- out campaign of strategy, due regard being
paid to what may be considered the weak points of the
adversary.

In the headwork required in this kind of baseball,
Dick Merriwell was a star.

Coaching signals were gone over carefully now, and
then the old double steal was put into practice, for
is to-day often a very effective form of play, and is still
used.

With a runner on first and another on third, the
‘runner at first made an attempt to steal second; but
midway to the bag he slowed up, to draw a throw from
the catcher in that direction.

Having succeeded, he had given the runner at third
a chance to go home, and w hen the latter was equal to
his opportunity, he almost invariab ly made the home
plate, perhaps with a slide.

Having worked at this, Dick Merriwell put forward
his modification of it; but without the scrub nine having
an inkling of what it was the varsity intended to do.

A regular game was played between the varsity and
the scrub nine. And, as there were some first-class
- men on the serub, the varsity men, did not ‘have every-
_ thing their own way. But at last they got a man on
first, and one on third, and were ready for the new trick
which Dick had suggested.

One man was out when this happened.

The pitcher, holding the ball, and watching the man
at first, was turning, with the intention of getting ready
iso send the sphere in to the batter, when his attention
was caught by the words of the coacher at third, who
began to yell cautions to the runner at first to be care-
ful, that he was risking too great a lead.

The pitcher did not know that now he stood as a
representative of the pitcher of the Carlisle Indian team,
and that the words he heard from the lips of the coach
were really a signal to the runners at third and first,
_and that the object was to draw him into making a throw
tO catch the runner at first.

It worked beautifully. It was a great play. For, with
k ‘one man out, and runners on first and third, the runner
et first played off, and drew a throw from the pitcher,
which was relayed from first to second almost instantly,
‘to get the runner there; and the man at third came home
ahead of the ball, even though it was slammed at the
plate with all the force the second baseman could put
into it.

The play having worked so well, it was tried again.
_. This time the first baseman refused to throw tg second,
but sent the ball whizzing to third bag; but even then

‘the nine at the bat gained a stolen base by putting the

‘first-base runner on the bag at second, the opposition
failed to catch the man at third, and thus the nine at bat

vas in the position of being able to score two runs on

almost any kind of a, hit to the outfield.
_ “Even if the Indians don’t have in-the pitcher’s box the

n we expect, we can perhaps turn that on them,” said.

: Dick Merriwell, pleased with the. manner in which the
lay had ern out. .

 

WEEKLY.

change in the signals since the

And baseball signalling is an art

There had been a
game with Columbia.
in itself.

A quiet man sitting on the bench may hoist one leg
over’ the other, as if to rest himself or change a posi-
tion that has grown tiresome, and the coachefs out at
third and first.are in that manner given a signal which
they translate to the players.

Perhaps the quiet man on the bench has signaled for
a double steal. Or it may be that he has signaled for
the batter to sacrifice. The coacher may translate the
meaning of this to every member of the nine by yelling
at the pitcher: “Watch his foot!”

“Watch his foot!” is often yelled at a nervous pitcher.

He is required, by the rules, to take his position facing
the batsman with both feet firmly on the ground, and
in the act«of delivering the ball to the bat he must
keep one foot in contact with the pitcher’s plate; and
he must not raise either foot until in the act of deliver-
ing the ball to the bat, nor make more than one step
im such delivery. .

The rules are hard for a pitcher to obey. And if he
is of a nervous make-up, and keeps hearing that “Watch
his foot!’ his nerves may go to pieces, and that means
the other side has him at a disadvantage, fot a nervous
man cannot do his work well.

sut often that call, “Watch his foot!” does not mean’
what it says. The batter, perhaps, hears it as an order
to bunt, and the runners to try to get bases. .

A little later the quiet man hitches his cap forward

or back on his head, or pulls a spear of grass froma ~

tuft growing in front of him, and another order goes out
from the chattering lips of the coachers.

Perhaps the man directing the game is not a “quiet. Na

man; ‘he may be a noisy man, out on the coacher’s line
himself ; he may howl ‘
seems to be ordering a’runner to do his best jn some

race he has started; but the chances are the coacher is
directing his order to some one else, and doesn’t mean
“Ee-yah!” at all. f 5

No one not on the inside, or possessed of the secret :
code, can tell anything about it. 's

Even if by any chance he discovered the meaning of ‘
certain of the signals, and as a member of an oppos-—
ing nine thought he could get the benefit of his knowl-
edge, in the very next game the ans of the cap, the |
plucking of a spear of grass, or the shifting of one leg _
over the other would not mean what it did before, but —
something so entirely different that confusion would be»
brought to the man or the nine that hoped to use what
was supposed to be valuable information.

Jim Phillips was given a chance to test his dikchid
arm that day. Phillips was sometimes called the “ever
reliable,” but in the game with Columbia he had come
near falling down.

That was because his mind was worried over the toss’
of some valuable tourmalines that had, been put. in his.
possession by his friend Joe Goss, and the worry, hac
caused him to lose needed sleep and rest. Fane

But that was all past now, and, with no cause.
worry, his arm work was of a kind to show that. Yi ee
had none better in the pitcher’ s box. se aa

“Behind the bat, in catcher’s mask and pad,

stood big
Bill Brady, equal to the “hottest’? that Phillips or any —
one else comic send over the plate; aman of eae cour

 

Ee-yah!’? like an Indian, and he
= pat LMS — nyrenent - 7 MOORES I eee we

ear Oe

age, immense strength, and a steadiness of nerve that
nothing could shake.

He was the stone wall of the Yale battery.

It was a good “try out” which the well-wishers of
Yale beheld that day, and, as they took their way from
the field they felt a supreme confidence that in the com-
ing contest with Carlisle the Yale banner of blue. would
flutter over a victory.

CHAPTER II.
RECKL

The evening before the day of the game, the Carlisle
Indians came over from New York, and were, met at
the railway station by Dick Merriwell and other coaches,
and by the members of the Yale nine, with a big con-
tingent of Yale students and interested citizens.

There was a spectacular parade of the red men and
their friendly rivals through the New, Haven streets,
to their hotel, led by the blaring band that had been pro-
vided by the Yale men.

One of the students who walked, and sometimes
danced along, in that procession, was Harry Maxwell,
the warm-hearted, hot-headed, reckless friend of ‘Jim
Phillips. And an idea came to him then and there,
which he imparted to some of his associates.

After nightfall that eveniig he came into Jim Phillips’
room with a bundle.

“Gay togs,’ he said, as he threw the bundle down.

“And you | say so when you see them.”

Phillips had been digging into his ‘studies, for he did
not want to fall behind in them through being engrossed
‘so much of his time with affairs athletic. But he pitched
the book aside and gave attention to Maxwell’s chatter.

“There are two suits here,” said Maxwell, beginning
to strip off the wrappings. “One for you, and the other

\for yours truly. Don't say you won't do it; for I shall
refuse to take ‘no’ for an answer.’

Then he began to draw out a lot of Indian gear, in
the shape of feathered headdresses, imitation buckskin
.hunting shirts, leggings, and moccasins, and produced,

finally, an assortment of paint and a brush for apply:
ing it.

“Ugh! Bigyinjun, me!” he exclaimed, tapping

elf on the chet, as he surveyed his collection.
“Well, what does it mean?’ Jim asked, mildly sur-
prised.
“You haven’t forgot about the masked ball to-night,
eh? I’m going, and some others, and you're going with
me. I at first thought of disguising myself in a swal-
lowtail and a white shirt. Then I conceived this brilliant
idea. What do you think of it?” at
- “[’m afraid I can’t go,” said Phillips. “But what
gave you the idea? The coming of the Garlisle In-
-dians?”
~ “Correct. .You’re some of a guesser.
- blew into me during that parade from the station
 vags, eh? ~Why c can't you go?”

 “T could give yoti a number of reasons, but two will
pe enough. I need to bone into this psychology a little,
and to-morrow I’ll have to.do some pitching against the
red men. If I go to that masked ball, I'll be tempted to

stay up too late, and that won't be good for the pitch-
‘ing: work of little Jimmie to-morrow. See?”

“Aw, gwan! You won't need to stay up so very late.

ESS MAXWELL.

io

The notion
Gay

wR

WEEKLY. . 3

And you won't be the only mémber of the nine that will
be there—don’t you think wr

“Where did you get ’em?” said Jim, pawing the things
over, half tempted to yield to Maxwell’s solicitations.

““At the costymer’s, of course—Brennan’s. And now
that I've furnished the gay rags for you, you'll have
to go.’

Phill 9s took a turn about the room. .

“No, 1 can't do it,’ he said decidedly. “I’m obliged
to you, but that’s the straight goods. I can’t afford to.
For I know just how it will be. I'll not be able to hit
my downy bed before two or three o’clock in the morn-
ing, if I go to that masked ball. And to-morrow I'll be
so rocky I can’t do myself justice.”

Maxwell voiced loud remonstrances, to which Phillips
turned a deaf ear.

“Who’s going with you?’ Jim asked.

“Joe Goss. I’m expecting him here in a few min-
utes. And I told him you’d sure to go.”

“Goss is feeling rich, since hé sold those tourmalines.”

“Since you sold them for him,” Maxwell corrected.
“Aw, say, come along; we'll have the greatest time ever.’

But jim Phillips still refused, and Harry Maxwell
began to array himself in one of the costumes.

“Your artistic eye is going to be needed right here,”
he chattered. “How does a fellow get into these “leg-
gings? I suppose I ought to have had a bow and ar-
rows.”

“The’re out of date,” said Phillips. “What you need
is a gas-pipe shot gun and pot- etal revolver, if you're
to be a modern Indian. But, perhaps you’re. not a
modern Indian?”

It was when Maxwell began to apply his face paint
that he needed the aid of an artistic eye. He was
making a smeary mess of it, when Jim came to his
assistance.

“Here, os
house ?’

He made Misxivell wash his face and get Paddy to be-
gin all over again.

ce Jim, “do you think you’re painting a

“You're going out from my room, and somebody might

!?

think—well, I don’t want you to disgrace me!

Then he took the brush and the pigments and set to
work. An Indian color, well laid on, di8guised the natu-
ral tint of the face and hands; that was the first thing.

And afterward various “beauty spots” were added
by way of facial adornment. When this had been done,
and the feather headdress was adjusted, Maxwell looked
into the mirror and declared that he didn’t know himself,

“T used to think I wanted to be on the varsity nine,”
he said; “but I’m glad I’m not; if a fellow has to cut
out every sort of fun on account of it.”

“What kind of a crowd do you expect to meet?
asked.

“Well, it’s likely to*be a bit promiscuous,”
mitted, “But what’s the dif?
fun,” ’

He delayed a while for the coming of Joe Goss, then
ventured down to the street. Goss was awaiting him,

>)

em

Prarcy a
There will be oodles of

in feathers and imitation Indian toggery, and a facial

make-up even more wonderful than Harry’s.
“By hemlock! I scai't myself half tew death, when
I looked in the glass,” he asserted. “Yeou don’t know
who the other fellers are that are going to dew cg red
Indian act with us,'do ye?”
“No, I don’t exactly. Several Setliwe cholighe thesia

 
TIE: LOR

way so’s their team can win the game to-morrer. You

might have ‘em pinched, and break it up that way, or

you might “

Even in his intoxication, Morgan was loyal to Yale,
and his anger rose.

“You show ‘em to me,” he said, “and I’ll thump the
tar out of ’em.”

The man moved down the street, and Block Morgan
followed heavily, giving himself a shake now and then,
and wondering whether he was wide awake or dreaming.

At the end of the street, the shambling tramp stopped
and pointed at the wall. gr

“There they air. Ye can see their heads from here.
Notice that tree this side? Keep along the wall, with
that tree coverin’ ye, and you can git within six feet
of ‘em, if you’re quiet. There comes some fellers along
the other side the street, makin’-a lot o’ noise. This
is yer chance.”

He sidled up to Morgan.

- Five dollars won’t be too much fer this, boss— if you

find I’m right. A dollar now, so’s I can pay me debts,
_and the balance any time, if you find I’m right. It’s
fair enough. What?”

Morgan was drunkenly feeling in his pocket’ for a
, dollar, when the heads by the wall disappeared.

A moment later two men rose up there, and began. to
inove off, apparently made to feel the insecurity of the
place ‘by the crowd of young men that had passed on
the other ‘side of the street. Morgan saw that they
were Indians, in appearance at least; they had blankets
hooded round their heads and shoulders, and above one

_of the blankets he beheld a bobbing feather.

“There they go now—we was too slow,” the tramp
“whispered. “And you'll have to foller ’em, if you do
anything. But I passed you straight goods. 2

Morgan was about to swing on.

“Ain't 1 worth a dollar?’’!

_ The drunken youth dug up a silver dollar, and it was
_ clutched by a greasy palm.

_ Then Morgan walked on, while the tramp dropped in
- behind at a safe’distance as if he wished to see the out-
come of the adventtire. :

Morgan still didn’t know whether the things that had
happened were real or only seeming, but -he was boil-
ing mad. |
For a week all the talk at Yale had centered on the
_ game with the Carlisle Indians. There had been dirty
_ work tried against the Yale nine when they played Co-
_ lumbia, though not by the Columbia men themselves.
_ And this prepared Morgan, in his muddled state, to be-
_ lieve what he had just heard.
“More crooked work against Yale,” he grumbled.
_ “We won't stand it, That’s what.”

- He did not know what he meant to do, more than
that he intended to hammer the offending men.

Until he had come under Dick Merriwell’s influence
and Merriwell had tried to change his course and view-
point, that had always beén Block Morgan’s method of
‘settling trouble with those who crossed his path.

; Keeping to a side street and within the shadows of
iouses, the blanketed figures pressed on now so rapidly
hat Morgan could not get close to them. >

When they stopped at a corner and looked out into the

Street before them, he did not know that they

‘

were ‘near! ;

WEEKLY.

the hotel where the Carlisle Indians were located for the
night; but he knew that later.

Reeling ahead, still-choked with rage, he was resolved
to question the men and then beat them to a pulp.

But he was brought to a halt by seeing one of them
strip away his blanket, drop it into the arms of the other,
and glide swiftly across the street toward the hotel.

This one had no eagle feather in his hair, and, being
in ordinary clothing, as the falling away of the blanket
revealed, Morgan fancied he had convincing proof of
the story told by the tramp; a story which, if he had
been in his normal condition, he would have thrust aside
as being ridiculously improbable and told in the hope of
getting money.

Hesitating, he stared hard at the blanketed figure on
the corner, whose head showed the upright feather.

His determination to make quick use of his sledgelike
fists was still further shattered by hearing a sound be-
hind him and discovering that the tramp had followed
close at his heels.

‘“Where’s he gone?” the tramp questioned, tiptoeing
and peering. “There was two of ’em.”

“Say, this is a funny deal,’ said Morgan, struck
by sudden incredulity. “I wonder if you wasn’t lying
to me? If I thought you was, I’d pound your head in!”

The tramp recoiled.

“Straight. goods, boss—’twasn’t nothin’ else.
where’s he gone?”

“One of ’em’s gone into the hotel over there; but that
doesn’t prove anything, and maybe you lied to me. If
you did ? ,

He hunched his shoulder and his fist came up.

“T told you what I heard—nothin’ else,” the tramp de-
clared. “They said they was going to capture you—the
pitcher.”

“They talked English?’ said Morgan, with growing
criticism. .

“Sure. Them Carlisle Indians talk English same’s
us; only one of ’em was mighty poor at it. Half the
time I couldn’t\understand him.
the other’n said.”

“Hello!” growled Morgan, looking at the hotel again
from his vantage point in the shadow of a building.
“The one that went in is coming out again, and there’s
a inan with him. What’s that mean?”

“Search me!” \ eh

The two men crossed the street and joined the blan-—
keted figure that waited on the corner. Then they came
on into the shadows, in the direction of Morgan and
the tramp.

‘ “Boss, we'd better

But

beat it.”

But I got everything —

\ The tramp tugged at Morgan, and they retreated in they

darkness until they came to a cross alley, beyond which
they stopped. ne .
The three men were in a group, talking, though of
what they were saying nothing
seemed to have fallen into an argument.
Morgan began to feel the need of a drink.
“Aw, there’s nothing doing here!” he growled. “You

got my dollar easy. I’m not going to——” . ,.
There was a sudden whirling of the three figures, fol-

lowed by a choked cry; and Morgan and the tramp. saw

:

of them, and a struggle was taking place.

that a blanket had been dropped over the head of one :

It was brief; and was followed by the running of two ae

i,

could be heard; but they. a

 
 

 

aah

EE eT Ge
y

tad

pe a
we $
¥

TIP TOP

of the men toward the cross alley, with the third man
held in the arms of the one who still wore a. blanket.
The other, in ordinary clothing, ran by his side.

Before Block Morgan could understand this sudden
change, they gained the alley and began to run through it.
The tramp had clutched Morgan again, perhaps because
he felt sudden fear; but Morgan shook him off,

“What’s this?” Morgan bellowed.

Then he began to run.as rapidly as he could after the
disappearing men, without thinking to note whether the
tramp still followed.

The men.dashed through the alley, gained another, and
went on; but hampered as one of them was by carrying

a struggling man, they did not go so fast that Morgan.

could not keep in sight of them.
Still they were gaining when they came to a low build-

: ing, turned toward a dark spot there and vanished,

gone through it.
against the door, which had not been locked, and, as the \

Morgan gained the place at the end of:a wild run.

He pulled himself up with a jerk, and stared about.

Where the three men had vanished was a door, flush
with the alley; and there seemed no doubt they had
Morgan threw his heavy shoulders

door gaye under his blow, he was precipitated into a
dark hallway. Before him he saw a stairway, and ia
a room above at the top of a stairway a light; and from
that room caine sounds indicating a struggle.

Morgan began to climb the stairs, clinging to the hand-
rail.

Thé. door’ at the top had been closed, but it was not
locked; so the drunken youth kicked it in, and walked

gt into the room.

dian red;

: pleased.

“tempt to get out of his coat. %

fe want the same. ;
But the right coat sleeve had not come back snugly
ibs into place and it fain

~The man who had been captured had been thrown
down on a bed, and one of the others was winding a
rope round the blanketed form in spite of threshing pro-
tests and kicks. Indistinguishal ble words were feiratled

under “the blanket, in a choked way, as if the. blanket
there had been drawn tight and served as a gag.

‘The third man turned toward Morgan. He wore the
blanket and the headfeather and his face was. of an In-
but before Morgan. could half noté this, the
‘fellow jumped at him.

“Oh, you’re coming for me?” cried “Morgan,
“Well, you get it!”

well

Smack !

His fist smashed against the Indian face with a pile-
driver blow, and the fellow tumbled backward.

Morgan tried to shed his coat, as the man. aire the

floor.

The second man, a lithe youth with Caucasian ‘flees,
came now at Morgan, turning with a swing from the
struggling figure on the bed, Morgan stopped his at-

“Oh, you!” Morgan howled with fierce delight. “You

Well, here you

ered him.

The smashing swing of his pile-driver right went wild.
‘The youth ducked, caught him by the legs, and Morgan

ve went over backward, hitting his head against the wall.

The young fellow piled on him; and then the second

. es coming up with a jump, added. his: weight.

Morgan’s head had struck heavily, and he was dazed;
in addition, “tHe eee of liquor nee was carryi ng was a

WEEKLY. | 7

Ile was jammed against the floor, a fist\caught him. or.
the mouth; and the great Yale fighter, who had more
than once boasted when in his cups that he could eit
his weight in wild cats, slumped on the floor, senseless,

About five o’clock in the morning, he aw oke with a
consuming thirst, a thumping headache, and. found him-
self lying on his bed in his room, dressed, just/as earlier
in the night he had thrown himself there.

In the gray light that filtered into the room, he looked
g@bout. Then he stared at the wall paper that he had
seen waver, and the flowered figures which had taken’
the shape of leering faces.

“Wow!” he grunted.
all right.”

“That was one fierce. dream,

CHAPTER IV.
A BREATH OF MYSTERY.

William Lance, the principal pitcher of the Carlisle
nine, was missing fron? his hotel in the morning. It
created no uneasiness, however, even in the minds of his
friends. But as the hours of the forenoon rolled s slowly
away and he was not seen, questions began to be asked
that’ found no adequate answers.

He had been noticed in the lobby of the hotel early
in the evening, and it was supposed that he had gone
to his room at about the usual hour.

But the chambermaid reported that his bed had: not
been occupied... He had left no note to account for his

absence. a

The growing uneasiness of the Carlisle men developed
into a panic as the noon hour approached and Lance still
remained away.

Men were sent into the streets on a search for him, a

and they returned without having learned anything.

The captain of the nine called his men together" in his
room at the hotel. They were clean- looking fellows, ©
ranging in facial hue from Caucasian light to very dark 1
Indian. .

‘A number of tribes were represented, located froth ;
New York State to the Apache reservations of the far
Southwest; but a few of the Carlisle men had only the
‘remotest claim to any tribal attachment.

Yet they were Indians, all of them, if it can be said
that every man is an “Indian who has even a drop of |
Indian blood in his veins; though it stopped there, so”
far as.any characteristics, OSEAN, considered. Indian,
were concerned. MY

They were dresged as white men and spoke as diane
men; and they exhibited the irritation, impatience and
slumbeting anger that might have been expected of

white men under the circumstances. - :

The captain was Tom Leech, a half-blood Nez Percé,
from the far Pacific Coast country, a young fellow of
good brain power and clever in many ways.

“Tf Lance was given to drinking,” he said, “we might
think he had gone on a bat. But he doesn’t drink; or,
at least, I never heard that he did. And even if he ‘had

done a thing so fodlish in the face of the game we're

to play this afternobn, some of you would have be
‘able to locate him. And I think he would have come
back to the hotel, anyway. So we can put that asid
“He looked about with anxious glance. ‘
“What's your idea, Longstroke?” oe asked; catching 2 a
eye.

“It is my think,” said Longstroke, oe was nearl

 
TIE OP

quite a full-blood, and had a tendency to clip his words
or use them oddly, “that something has happened; Lance
is a good man, and he would not go away without he
have said something.”

“But what’s your idea?’ Leech repeated.

“T don’t know. But he would not go away, not to
¢ come back, without he have said something. Maybe
* it is an accident. There are many people in the town,

and automobiles running everywhere. | have thought it
might be a hospital we might find him in.” ‘

“That’s so,’ said Leech, impressed.

They adjourned to the hotel office, where Leech got
the hospitals of New Haven on the telephone, one after
another, and made careful inquiries. But there was no

-results. Lance was in none of the hospitals.

“T hated to do that,” Leech admitted, when they had
gone back to his room together. “I don’t like to start
a scare.”

“But you are scared yourself,”
_ declared. j

“T am,” Leech admitted. ‘‘We'’re depending on Lance
for. the principal arm work in the pitcher’s box this after-
noon. Suppose he doesn’t show up at all?”

“We'll have to use the substitutes.”

“Of course; but our game will be weakened.”

“You don’t think the Yale fellows can have played
any trick?’ was asked dubiously.

“No,” said Leech promptly. “We can’t think of
The Yale fellows are all right—so far as they are
cerned.”

“You mean?”

“Well, it’s just this way—I merely suggest it: The
men who are to play on the Yale side this afternoon
are not the only men who are in Yale. Do you get

és that? We are bound to believe, and we do believe, that
_. the Yale players are themselves fair and square and
honest; that they wouldn’t resort to any low-down or
_ underhanded work. I know they wouldn’t.. But there
- are other men in Yale, and a lot of other men in New
_ Haven. There was crooked work here a week ago when
Columbia played; though the Yale men had nothing to
‘do with it. We’re in the enemy’s territory, boys; you
__ know that.” He, smiled. ‘Most of the people who will
‘see the game this afternoon will be hoping that Yale
will win.. Some of them. may have money up on it.
_ There was gambling mixed up in that affair last Satur-
_ day here. Now, do you begin to get my idea?”
2 They ‘did, and they rained him with questions.
“I got the.most of the information I have yesterday
evening, after we got here; though I have already seen
- something in the newspaper. . But you can’t always be-
lieve the newspapers. The hotel clerk told me about it,
as I was talking with him before supper. Some fellow
_ from South America tried to kill Dick Merriwell, with
a dynamite bomb over some trouble that happened
when Merriwell was down there last fall. But the
thing of interest to us is: There were a lot of gamblers
on here from New York, and they had been betting
_ heavily on Columbia; and to make sure they’d win, they
tried to knock out Merriwell and the Yale pitchers;
hired some chauffeur to ditch the automobiles that the
Yale men were in, on a trip to New London. They
lamed up two of the pitchers in that way, and Columbia
eame close to, winning out through ‘it. The Columbia
boys had nothing te do with it, but that was the situa-

a member of the nine

that.
con-

WEEKLY.

“Now, it’s my idea that something of that kind. may
be working here this week. It may be that the same
crowd that went against the Yale nine and Merriwell,
have concluded that they will get us this time. Maybe
it’s a wild notion., But suppose the scoundrels, having
lost out last Saturday, should think they could, recoup
by betting on Yale this time; and then should try to make
the thing a cinch by capturing our principal pitcher and
holding him somewhere until the game is over?”

He looked about him, into earnest faces and into dark
eyes, that began to burn.

“T only suggest that,’ he said; “perhaps
ing in it. And then again ee

“Then again, perhaps there is!”
strikes me that you must be right.”

“But if I am,” said Leech, slowly, “what are we’ go-
ing to do about it? If we can’t locate Lance, we can’t;
and that ends it. We'll have to play this afternoon, or
forfeit the game. We can’t put up any poverty plea’
and say that we’re crippled; we'll have to play the game.”

One of them looked at his watch.

“It isn’t twelve o’clock yet,” he said, “and we ought
to be able to turn New Haven upside down before the’
play is called this afternoon.”

“How will we go about it?” Beech demanded. “We
don’t know where to look. This is a good-sized town.”

“If, you’re sure the Yale nine is honest, we can tell
them about it, and get them to help. They know the |
town, and would. know better how, to make’ a hunt.”

Dark eyes were flaming. Unconsciously, the excite-
ment of a man chase was getting into their blood. Her-
edity is strong. They were civilized and educated young
Indians, but not so many generations ago—in some case¥
not more than one—their ancestors and fathers had made
man hunting, as well as game hunting, the work of their
lives. ae
“It’s a good suggestion,” bid Leech. ‘“We’ve*got to»
assume that the Yale men are on the square. As a mat-
ter of fact, we know they are. .And when they hear
of this they will do all they can to assist us.”

They talked it over. Then they decided to go in a
body and call on Dick Merriwell, who was known to
be the real head of the Yale nine and of all Yale's
athletic forces. :

Having reached that determination, they descended

there is noth-

was shouted. ‘It

to the office of the hotel, where they informed the clerk

that an important matter they must attend to might make

-them late for dinner; then they set out.to find Dick

Merriwell.

\ CHAPTER V.

% fs
PHILLIPS AND MAXWELL.

That morning Jim Phillips had received a puzzling let-
ter. The envelope was stained with grease and, smeared
with ink,.and on it, was this scrawl:

Yale Pitcher, x
“New Haven, Con,’

“Mister Jim Philips,

X

Inside the unsightly envelope was this note:

,

N«ute. Jim Pups. Deer Sur: Wot Hapend last nite a

I don’t need to eeloosidate for you no awl about it,
but it was queer stuff awl rite, awl rite’ I lost the men.
down in that aley but I was there wen you come out —

_ that way and hiding when they took you off and I reckon

 
 

 

 

 

oy RG)
to hear’ it.

.

aoe Rca E

>
you run into something purty hot. Well, Ime watching
the house and am going to foller and see wot them fel-
lers aire going to do, so you wach out fer a reeport
frum me. I blowed in a quarter of that iron money
fer some sandwiches and hot coffee and feel that Ime fit
fer the, job Ime tacklin aud you must wish me luck.
Don’t forget that Ime coming backe to collect the bal-
ance of that five and that wen I do Ime expecting to be
filled up to the neck with some mitey interestin news.
So no more at this time. Yours trewly,
“OMAHA OLIVER.”

“What the Sam Hill!’ Phillips gasped, when he had
run through this singular communication.

He turned the soiled sheet of paper over, but there was
‘nothing on the other side; then he looked at the soiled
-and smeared envelope.

‘He could make nothing of it, tenes he read the queer
note through again.

“Ts this a joke?” he cried.

He heard Harry Maxwell stumbling up the stairs, and
opened the door for him. Then, as Harry began to
tell about the great time Jim had missed by not attend-
ing the*masked ball, Jim cut him short by showing
him the letter.

The feller who wrote that must have been nutty
Maxwell.

“Is it. a joke?” ;

“Well, if it isn’t, what is it? You stayed in your room
last night. That letter sounds like a tramp, and it looks
like the. work of a tramp. Omaha Oliver! I wonder
what the: dickens. it means.”

He chucked the, letter, back, as if glad to get it out of
his hands. :

“That beats some of the puzzles the professors pop
at us,” he added. “I can’t. guess it., Say, perhaps it’s
a mistake. Perhaps it wasn’t intended for you. But
there’s your name on it, and on.the envelope.’

Phillips flung the thing on his desk.

“But 1 want to tell you about last night,” said: Harry,

“and why I hustled up here so-early. Look at my face.”
“I’m looking at it; you seem to have skinned your
nose, and then put court plaster on it.” ..  \

“Skinned my nose! Well, I should think! It was
~ knocked off me, nearly. And that’s what I came to tell
you about. I’d have pulled you out in the night fo tell

you, but I knew you were asleep and wouldn’t thank me

for doing it, and it could wait. But I had a fellow watch
the street in front of this house from two o’clock—that
was about the time [I came up here then—until this
morning after daylight.”

“Watched the house? What for?”

“To keep anything from happening ‘to you. And I
got another feltow to watch the house where’ Merriwell
" stays.’

“Say, you're * battier than that crazy note on the desk
there. You haven’t been drinking, Harry? ive -
saw your face——”

“Cut it out! No, of course I haven’t been Seieiags
But one of the fellows was steaming last night, that we
thought had turned over a new leaf—Block Morgan.”
‘gMerriwell will be sorry to hear that—and I’m sorry
Where did you see! him?”

Harry ‘hesitated.
“didn’t see him, but we got the news at Regger’s.
I went-in there with Joe Goss and Amos Bart. Bart

J Sate

house; but they had left by the piazza.

.gambler’s raid was under

WEERLY¢::: 9
wanted us to exhibit our feathers in there. Bill Lampton
was there, and he told us about it. But that isn’t the
point of this story.” He wanted to iat away from
any talk about his visit to Regger’s, for he was a bit
ashamed of it now, in the light of the new day.

“What is the point?” Jim asked. “You seem to think
that Merriwell and I were in danger last night.”

“All I know is that there is another scheme on foot
to cripple the Yale nine. I tumbled to it just by acci-
dent, and got this skinned nose.” He felt of his nose
tenderly. “Gee, it hurts yet! I was hot and tired, and
went out on the piazza. It was at the house where
the ball was held. I was sitting in a chair at the end
of the piazza, when I saw two fellows coming toward
me, dressed up as Indians.”

“Just as you were.”

“Yes, about the same. I thought they were some of
the Yale fellows., They didn’t see me, and I sat still,
thinking perhaps,I could drop to their identity when
they began to talk. Then I discovered they were not
Yale men at all, and found out that they were planning
to do up the nine in some way.”

“In what way? You didn’t learn that?”
lips, deeply interested now. f

“They were talking it over, but I couldn’t get that.
Then a singular thing happened. One of them struck
a match to light a cigar, and when he threw the match
away, it fell on my clothing. That imitation buckskin
is loaded with oil, and the match set it on fire. Of
course I had\to put it out, and they saw me. Then I
got up deliberately and stepped to go by them, and gaye
them to understand that I had heard what they had
been saying.

“Tt Was then that I got this nose.” He felt of it again,
“Before I knew he intended it, one of them struck me
in the face. Then they ran, and jumped off the piazza.
| thought at first perhaps they had turned back into the
That's all. All
of it, | mean, except that I had this house watched, and
Merriwell’s, and came up here now to tell you about
it, so that you can be on your guard.”

“You've no idea, who those men were?”
lips, disturbed by this.

“Not the faintest.
see Z

“Yes, of course. Unless you recognized their voices.”

“Sorry to say I didn’t... I’m going to get word to. Mer-
riwell, and to the members of the varsity ; and that ought
to block it, whatever the game is. If nothing h happene d
last night—and I’ve heard of nothing—I don’t see how
they can do anything now, on the day ef the game, and
in broad daylight. But it’s my opinion that. another
way, and I hope I’ve blocked
it. What if I hadn’t gone to that ball!” ;

“You wouldn't be nursing a sore nose this morning,”
said Phillips, laughing.

“And I wouldn’t have heard about that.” +

Phillips put the strange note in) his pocket, and he |
and Maxwell went down to the stfeet together. et

As they came out on the pavement, they saw Block
Morgan walking heavily along ahead of them.

“He must have a great head on him this morning,”
Maxwell said. “I expect he “feels worse than I do. T
think he’s got halt a skate on flow, the way he swings es,
himself.” vt ete

said Phil-

said Phil-

‘Those you

disguises,

Indian

 
TIP TOP

CHAPT
STRANGELY

A little before one o’clock, the New Haven Dispatch
cathe out with a special edition that set the old town
on fire. It was distributed by wildly excited and yelling
newsboys,

The whisper that the great pitcher of the Carlisle In-
dians was mysteriously missing, which started in the
hotel when the Indians began a questioning search
for him, had swelled into an ever-growing rumor that
ended as a statement of fact.

Reporters sent hurriedly to the hotel found that: the
affair was being talked of even on the streets, and that
the Indians had but a minute before started off in an
apparent state of great excitement.

Overtaken by the reporters and questioned, as they
were on their way to have an interview with Dick Merri-
well, the Indians had balked, and then had given answers
that were confirmatory of the worst that had been said.

ER VIL

MISSING.

‘Some of them were angry—all were aroused and ex-

Harry, Rainvell who were together at the time,

_mother!

2 Rare Rumor is
eT “Dark Hints of Treachery.”

me flaming headlines.
_ but they had made the most of it.

. great work in the pitcher’s box that afternoon,

_ strangely missing. He had not been seen by his friends ,

¥i

cited.

Then the rapid-fire newspaper men made the telephone
wires hot, and the edition came out with a rush,

A copy of it fell into the hands of Jim Phillips and
An-
other copy fell into the hands of Block Morgan,

_ And a third copy was snapped up by the Indians them-
selves, as they were he ite wart the hotel, having
failed to find Merriwell in.

Maxwell was dazed.

“Say, listen to this!” he cried, though Phillips was
reading the paper with him. “Great Czsar’s grand-
What do you know about that?”

“CARLISLE’S PITCHER MISSING,
Afloat That He Has

y
Been Kidnaped,

The young fellows followed down the column, below

on whom Carlisle was relying for
was

William Lance,

nor by any one else since the previous evening, and it

Was known that he had not occupied his room in the
ni ht, |

hat had become of him no one could tell. . me did

thet drink, and was a quiet fellow, not a bit quarrelsome.

That he was not in a hospital, and no doctor had been
called to see him, eliminated the possibility that he had

met with an accident.

So the conclusion had been reached | ithat he was the
victim of some plot against the Carlisle team, whose

purpose was to put him out pf the way until after the

game was over.

_ That was the substance of an account that ran through

| re than: a column. To it were added opinions of
The newspaper had Tried to get Dick Merriwell on the
phone, but had failed, and there was an admitted pos-
sibility that he was ‘making an investigation.

_ One man, whose name was not given, had hinted”

ly that the Yale nine could tell something about it;

. this the a dismissed Cua, as not. being

The reporters did not Know much,

WEEKLY.

It was apparent that, hard pressed for sensational copy,
this alleged interview was made out of the whole cloth.
But one of the angry Indians had said a few injudicious
things, and much was made of that.

Judging by “ paragraph alone, an undiscriminating
reader would have been led to think the Indians were
charging the outrage against the Yale nine.

“Well, what do you know about that?’ Maxwell
howled once more, when he had read to the end of the
report.

“Those New York gamblers again—perhaps,”
suggested.

“But they were trying to do up Yale?”
jected.

“Last week t they were; but we don’t know what they're
doing this week.” pee

“That’s so; but I haven’t seen any of them round.
It was thought they got out of the town, to keep from
being pulled. But they might have come back.”

“Let’s try for Merriwell again.”

They had tried twice already, and found Merriwell
out of his office. ‘But they set out once more.

“Do you suppose,” said Phillips, “this is connected
with what you heard last night? : f

“How can it be? Those fellows were aiming at Yale!”

“How do you know it? You admitted that you didn’t
hear much of their talk.”

“That’s so, I didn’t. But. say, this is raw—to sug-
gest that perhay »s the Yale nine has put that pitchér
in temporary cold storage ; anybody ought to know bet-
ter than that! Why

“That talk you heard may help to start* the search in
the right direction,” Phillips eut in, his mind attacking
the problem feverishly. “Anyway, it may clear the air.
—show reasonable grounds for’ beli¢ving this has been
the work of gamblers who want;to see Carlisle defeated.”

“Carlisle would have been defeated anyway; there
wasn’t any need to steal their pitcher. They couldn't
wallop Yale—not in a thousand ee Oh, say-——”

Words failed.

Phillips:

Maxwell ob-

Dick Merriwell had been out to the Yale field; and | |

had returned to his office, after luncheon.
Absorbed in some work at his desk, he had not heard

the newsboys go howling past with their startling state-

ments,
3ut he was shortly aroused by a rap, and the entrance

-of Block Morgan, who held his copy of the newspaper

in his hand.

Morgan's face was pale, and he keine to be making
an effort to hold himself together, Dick knew that —
Morgan had been drinking again—had known it hours. —
hefore, He was sorry for the fellow, and thinking Mor- *
gan had come for a little touch of the’. friendly, hand, oa
he stood ready to, bestow it, as always. bya

ne fs f ay
If a man fell a dozen times, Dick was willing to help ae
-him up each time,

It was but an evidence of his kind -
heart and generous nature. Gb ae

“Something I can do for you, Morgan?” he aed

when greetings had been passed and Morgen’ EE

himself into a convenient chair,.
“Well, I don’t know,” said Block, thenital ins:
hold of this paper a while ago, and then I felt. at
was up ta me to tell J: though you ‘ll see thas unt ss
a tdol: and—— ’ ;
nee that, Morgan! rt

 
 

~~ him.

 

 

ALE ei We WEERLY,

“Tn worse than a fool,” said Morgan bitterly. “But
you've been my friend

“Always your friend, Block.”

“T guess that’s right, though I don’t deserve it.
I’m wasting time. Have you seen this paper?”

Dick was amazed when he read it, and jumped to his
feet, as if he meant to go out and start an investiga-
tion. Then he stopped, and turned toward the tele-
phone.

“Tf you'll hear what I came to say first,’ Morgan said.
“But, honest, before I tell it, I’ve got to confess that I
don’t know whether it’s so, or whether I was just a bit
bughouse. For | had been drinking again. Until I read
this paper, I thought it was surely a dream. But now
I am not sure.

“T had a touch of the blue devils last evening, and went
down to Regger’s—and you know what that means. But
I got back to my room, and I think it was early. I
didn’t undress—didn’t feel like it, but dropped on the
bed just as | was. When the wall paper began to crawl
around and make faces at me—I’ve had it do that be-
fore—I felt that I had to have another drirfk, and got
up; with the intention of visiting Regger’s again.

“But down on the.street, I fell in with a fellow who
seemed to be a tramp, and he t ought I. was Jim Phil-
lips. So he told me that he had ov rerheard a couple of

Carlisle Indians talking over by the stone wall, back of
that big elm, and that they were planning to capture
me and keep me from pitching in the game _ to-day.
Of course, he wanted money, and I gave him a dollar.
The dollar is gone sure; but that’s nothing, for it may
have gone at Regger’s.”

He shad Dick’s attention.
stopped, and looked foolish.
“This whole thing sounds so silly that I’ve hardly

the courage to tell you about it, and you'll probably
think I had a touch of the D, T.’s.. You'll have to set-
tle that for yourself as I go along. Well,
were out where the fellow said. The idea that they were
putting up such a scheme against Yale made me hot,
and all I thought of was getting up to them and ham-
mering them good. That was like a fool, wasn’t it?”

Dick did not answer.

“But before I got up-to them,” ‘said Morgan, “they
moved on. I followed, through some back streets, and
we came out near that hotel where the Carlisle players
are stopping. I was some distance behind at the time,
and that tramp had followed me.

“Then I saw one of the Indians slip off his blanket,
give it to the other one, and run across to the hotel.
When he came back he had a young fellow, with him.
The three got together on the corner and talked. Then
suddenly a blanket was thrown over the head of one
of them—lI think it was the one that had been brought
from the hotel; and they made off down the alley, with

But

But he hesitated. again,

“T gave chase as well as I could, and saw them dis-
rr. When I came to the door they had passed
through, I pushed it open, and went up a stairway to
a room “where I heard a row and saw a light), Well,.
there was a fight; for the two men were there , and they
had a man in the blanket on the bed and ‘had been

roping him.

eet ad Den M
tried to laugh.

He hesitated, looked foolish again, and
“Then I woke up in my room, lying on

so

ay bed, just as when I came back from Regger’s.’

the Indians.

Dick Merriwell was asking quéstions almost before
Morgan finished.

“Could you locate that house?” he said. “The house

“w here you saw them, and had the fight?”

“Then shes don’t think it was a dream, or a case of
the D.- Ty

“No, - foe t. Ill tell you why, Morgan. I was with
Sam Turner’ and Johnnie Lang. We had been down
to the station, and had cut through | xy as short a way
as we could, thinking we would call on the, Carlisle fel-
lows, if we found they hadn’t gone to bed. We found
you lying in that alley, as we were on our way to the
hotel. We got a cab and took you to your room, and
I cautioned the fellows to say nothing about it. You
had bumped your head, in a fall there, we thought. But
we saw you were—well, we concluded that. you were
not hurt seriously, and didn’t need a doctor. So

“You did that?’ Morgan gasped.

“That’s right, Morgan. I didn’t mean to say any-
thing about it to you—not now, anyway.”

“Then it wasn’t.a dream?”

“If you can locate that house, we may be able to rip
y the secret of this mysterious disappearance. But

s queer, if the men you saw were Indians. That would
mean that they belonged with the Carlisle nine.”

“T don’t think they. were Indians,” said Morgan.: “J
meant to speak of that. The two I followed looked like
Indians, until one of them stripped off his blanket.”

“Was it an Indian they brought out of the hotel?’

“T didn’t think so; but I can’t say sure.’*

“Do you think you could locate that house? I can
take you to the street and alley where we found you.”

“Put me; there, and I can locate the house; and |
could probably go to it from here without help, though
I admit that I was pretty badly muddled up at the time.
So I was knocked out and tumbled down the,stairs inté
that alley!” |

He felt of the painful lump on the back of his head.
His upper lip was slightly cut on the under side, and a
bit swollen.

He had attributed his injuries to the possibility that
he had fallen on the way to his room—if his lively ad-
venture had been pure drunken imagination.

But now he was ready to guide Dick Merriwell to
the house where the affair had closed for him in dark-
ness. ‘

Before they could set out, Maxwell and Phillips ap-*
peared at the door. , ;

T

CHAPTER VII,

THE INVESTIGATION.

The rapid-fire talk which followed Harry Maxwell’s
disclosure of what he had overheard from the lips of _
the two men who’ were Hiouised as Indians, linking in
as it did with the statements of Block Morgan, caused
Jim Phillips to produce the queer letter he had receive ed:

_in the morning mail. Baths

“It seems to me that what Morgan has said gives the. r
clew to the meaning of this letter,” he declared, as he.
passedvit to Dick Merriwell. “See if you don’t think,so.”

Merriwell thought so. .

Morgan was sure of it, as soon as he read it. es:

“There’s not a doubt of it,”(he said. “This Omaha’
Oliver is the tramp I gave that dollar to last night. Say, —
if we can locate him ‘

 
TIP TOP

&

But the Carlisle te: ain was now at the door.

Merriwell knew why they had come, before he ad-
mitted them. They filed in gravely; in silence, but more
than one pair of dark eyes was eloquent with anger.

Leech was their captain and spokesman, and he showed
his copy of the Dispatch, and opened up at once.

“Whatever it means, it puts us in the hole,’ he said.
“But we'll play the game this afternoon and stay with
it to the finish. We've got to play it, for it can't be
postponed, as,there’s no other date open.’

Dick lost no time in acquainting them with what he
had learned. And though this ought to have assured
them of the truth of what Leech had declared they al-
ready knew—that the Yale men had not connived at the
mysterious disappearance of the Carlisle pitcher—their
anger was even more evident,

For it seemed an insult that the men who had com-
mitted the outrage were disguised as Indians. © And it
was like a slap in Maxwell’s face when Captain Leech
flamed :

“No one but a | fool would put on an Indian head- .

dress and paint and go prancing round es because the
Carlisle team is in town, That is, for the fun of the
thing, unless a

But he checked himself. «©

‘We'll go with you to that house,’ he said. “But
the chances: are big that the men who captured Lance
are not there now. They wouldn’t stay there long, after
Mr. Morgan walked in on them and they had a fight
with hith. That’s the way I look at it.’

‘ Time pressed, and Merriwell called for cabs, in which
_ they rattled away to the hotel, and into the narrow street

and narrower alley, until they came to the door through
_ which Morgan had entered.

_ The house, they discovered, stood at the corner of a
street and “the alley, and was a hotel of the cheaper
sort, kept by a heavy-faced German. The door at the
top of the stairs was locked, and the room there seemed
deserted, Merriwell discovered. So they walked in 4
_ body round to the, front. and entered the stuffy little
ee

\ The fat German proprietor, erisconced in a chair, and
y enjoying his pipe, gave them a stare. |

ba _ “That room over the stairs, at the back, néar
alley,” said Dick, “who oceupied it last night?) —

_» “Some Carlisle Intians. But they vent avay in de
night mitout baying.’ He.looked at the dark faces of
certain members of the Carlisle nine.. “So I tond’t vant

to dake no sooch risk again.”

“But they weren’t Carlisle Indians,” said Dick.

- “Ach! Dot’s vhat dey saidt—dey vos Carlisle In-
tians, Dey coom py dhis house yestertay, unt sday in
dot room all tay, unt go avay unt tond’t bay me. Oof
I see em again I shall have dhem arrestedt ‘

“Let us see their names on your Apr
“T tond’t keeb none.”

“And that’s all you, know?”
dt iss enough, aind’t idt?”

He had not risen from his abst
"They didn’t leave anything in the room?”
‘Notting; nodt so mooch | as a fife- cendt biece Tat
a svindle,”’

Gan we see ae ‘room? We’ I Pay, you for sppEt

the”

WEEKLY.

“Katrina!” he called. And in a minute a buxom Ger-
man girl appeared.

“Show dhese chentlemen de room vot dose Intians haf
~occubied,”

Katrina flushed as she surveyed the group before her.
Then she led the. way upstairs to the room, which Block
Morgan recognized.

“This is the place,” he said.

It was not only empty, but it held not a shred—not
even an Indian feather—to serve as evidence or to sug-
gest what had become of the occupants.

‘Alreadty yedt | haf made oop de bedt,”
knowledge.

They looked the room over, and filed back downstairs,
with the German girl leading the way. In the office,
Dick dropped a silver piece into the fat hand of the
proprietor, and gave another to K&trina before she fled,
blushing, from their presence.

“Dhey ar-re nodt in idt—idt iss vot I saidt?
vant any more Intians.”

Out in the street, Dick acknowledged that they were
at the end of the trail, apparently.

“Tf we could find that tramp,” said Morgan.

Jim Phillips looked the smeared letter over again.

“In this he seems to indicate that he is following them.
Yes, we've got to find him!”

Leech took out his watch.

“The time is short,” he declared. “And if those white
men put on their a clothing, which, no doubt, they
did beforé they left that room, how are they to be iden-
tified? We could pass them on the street and not know
it. They’ve got I ance safe enough somewhere, I hope
they won’t hurt him.”

The silence of the other Carlisle men was not pleasant.

Dick suggested that the police could be called in. But
that offered small hope. Still, they might be able to’
locate the tramp, and get on the track of the miscreants
in that way.

“I'll phone the police,” he said.

The Carlisle men went to their hotel. From the office
of the hotel, Dick Merriwell called up the police and.
told them what he knew. Then he hurried back to his
office, where he was to meet certain members of the
Yale nine, and get ready to go out to the ball field. He
was intensely annoyed.

At the office he found John Raymond waiting for him.

Raymond was the Washington detective who, more
than a week before, had come to New Haven in search
of the South American bomb thrower; ‘the miscreant
having fled from W ashington, closely pursued, after
having tried to kill the minister from his own country.

Later, he had tried to “get” Dick Merriwell at the
Columbia game in New Haven, and had made his second |
escape. Since that time Raymond had lingered in New
Haven, thinking the vicious and half-crazed man is
return to that point.

“Hello,” said Raymond, smiling as Dick came ups

“have you been kidnaping the ‘Carlisle pitcher?”

“You're just the man I want to see,” said Dick.
“Come into the office.”

Raymond knew jonly what he had seen in Hie Disbotehe-

3ut when Dick had: told of the tramp, and exhibited
the soiled letter, that Jim Phillips. had turned over to.
him, Raymond declared that on the street the day before
he had eee. a tr es: Whe was Prebably the same OPS,

Katrina ac-

T tond’t

 
eee eens eee terete ete ieee erenrtearee ge en een en pe ieee aedaeoaae tried
astern Fe Ree a eee ee : ae

 

 

 pitcher’s

cxcontinton. etic:

r 7
ya Shen

‘EL ae

-“T'll find him,” he said, “if he’s in the town.
late now ei

“Too late to do anything,’ said Dick. “But perhaps
we. can jug the fellows who put up this job.”

“The Carlisle: men (don’t suspect any of your fel-
lows?’

“They say they don't.
picious streaks in it, and Indian human nature

“T see; they’re not wholly satisfied. J don’t know as
you can blame ’em. I suppose they’ve had some hope
of holding the Yale nine mighty close to its knitting this
afternoon. It’s enough to make ’em sore.’

“It is; and I don’t blame them at all. But you can see
how irritating the thing is.. I’d be willing to have the
game called off; but their pride is aroused, as well as

.their anger. And there’s been a slew of tickets sold.”

“T’ll go in search of that tramp. I'll do what I can,”

Raymond promised. And he shot out of the office.

But it’s so

But human nature has sus-

>9

CHAPTER VIII.
ON THE BALL FIELD.

When the Carlisle nine. came on the ball field, they
emitted a string of Carlisle yells, which a good many
people thought had the ring of war whoops. The advent
of the Yale contingent was quiet, though it was greeted
with cheers by the thousands of Yale supporters present.

There was a tremendous crowd. A game with the
fighting redskins from Carlisle is always of itself enough
to draw out a great multitude. And to-day there was

_ an added incentive, in the shape of intense curiosity.

For the news that Carlisle’s principal pitcher had dis-
appeared, as if into the unknown, with only wild guesses
to account for what had happened to him, was sufficiently

suggestive and exciting to make even a man who did

not care for baseball want to see now how the game
would be played:

Trolley cars, carriages, and automobiles camé out to
the field loaded to the guards; and the many: more who
walked streamed in like the current of a mighty river.

‘The entire seating capacity was quickly preémpted,
and still the people came. There was much cheering.
Men yelled and megaphones bellowed.

The Yale bulldog frisked, with flying ribbons, and.
barked sonorously. Pretty girls talked dizzily and flut-
tered Yale flags and sported bouquets of blue flowers.
And over all was'a Yale-blue sky,

The Yale nine and the Indians tuned up with a bit of
practice.

Then a gong rang furiously, and a great silence fell.

No one had known who was to pitch for the Indians.

But now a megaphone began to make announcements.’

And this was the line-up at the beginning:

CARLISLE.

Talman, lf,

Olds, cf.

Compton, 2b,

Leech, 3b.

Bird, rf.
‘Ananey, tb.

Longstroke, ss. «

Tallbear, c.

Reed; p.

YALE,
Taylor, lf.
Doyle, 2b.
Silby, cf. |
Martin, rf.
Ray, 1b.
Hartzell, 3b.
Flitch, ss.

\ Brady, Ci
Norton, p.

The Indians were first at the bat. . PL ae
The Yale crowd cheered Norton as he entered the
box, though they were not sure of him; not

WEEKLY,

as sure as they’ would have been if the pitcher had been
Jim Phillips.

Norton smiled, turned the white sphere in his fin-
gers, and began to send it over with self-assured confi-
dence. His good right arm had been hurt slightly a
week before, and he had fallen down then; but he knew
he was well again, and was anxious to prove his mettle,

Talman, dark, pure Indian, faced him with Indian
stoicism, and let him put them over.

Norton threw two wide curves, which he tried to get
across the corner of the rubber. But they were “balls.”

Then Norton changed with lightning quickness and
sent a drop. “

Talman “lifted” it for the left fields but he lifted it
too high; and Taylor, who was covering left, made a
backward run and a clever capture. And Talman sur-
rendered.

Norton struck Olds out.

Then he passed Compton, the next red man, to first,
by trying to put the ball close in, and hitting ‘him.

Leech, the captain of the nine, the next batter, was a
waiter. Two “balls” were called; then a strike ; after
which he connected, and leaped for first, But Compton
got his medicine at second, and the side was out,

Yale put two men on the sawdust bags when she
made her trial, and came neat pulling one of them

across the home plate; but there her glory ended, for | a

this inning.
Norton was putting the ball over again, still confident
and smiling. A “ball” was called; then a “strike,”
“Two strikes!” called the umpire, next.
Norton wound up, and sent, it in again.
Thump! it struck in Brady’s mitt.
“Two balls!” sang the umpire,
“Now I get you,” thought Norton.
But
Crack!

The redskin batter connected, and was running like 7 tf

a race horse’ for first.

“G-o-o!” yelled the coacher.

The runner turned at first and sprinted ‘for second,
The ball came in slowly from deep center.

Again an Indian batsman hammered Norton, and ©
gained first, and the runner from second reached ‘third, 3
A flush mantled Norton’s face as the ball came to him
and he caught it. Nursing the ball, he watched the run-_
ners, then turned toward the plate. re

Again the batsman connected, after two “balls.” Bee
it was a fly, handled by an infielder, and the batten was

out.

Then Norton struck out ved,

3ut Norton was tiring, and in the next. inning Be
began . to show poor work. He felt that he was “all
right,” but he failed to deliver the goods.

The Indians connected all too easily; and at the: end
of the third inning the redskins had two runs, ‘he

It had now become apparent that the mysterious. dis-
appearance of Lance, by angering them, was aiding them.

Not sure in their own minds but that Yale. really had
something to do with it, they developed a sort of vindi
tive fire that served them: well, and they had seldom 0
displayed their prowess on the ‘diamond.

Yale put in another pitcher and fought throu h th
fourth inning, The red men were held ‘down, and Ya’
gained a run. So that now there was a tie,

Jim Phillips great night arm was being saved fo th

 
14 ate oe

\

final struggle. And it began to seem that Yale would
need it. The Indians were fighting every inch of ground
with unexpected skill and stubbornness.

The special plays which Dick Merriwell had
had not been used. . They had been tried once,
goog results.
for the Indians seemed to ‘see
was blocked.

Then the unexpected happened—
the sky had. fallen down.

William Lance, the missing pitcher, leaped from an
automobile, which whirled up in a cloud of dust, and
came on the field at a quick run. The fourth inning had
ended, and the Indians were coming in toward their
bench.

- Pandemonium broke loose in their midst when they
beheld Lance. They rushed up to him and surrounded
him like a whirlwind. He shook his head doggedly, and

devised
not with

The man in the pitcher’s box doing work
through the effort,

and it

as; unexpected as if

_, made for the dressing rooms.

he :

‘roaring grew louder,

_ Lance had gone.

_for work,

~ We're holding ’ vem down, and now we'll beat ’em.

This isn't the place.

ep ordered “Play ball!”
_inning—it was the opening of the fifth—while his nine

Catching the significance of what they beheld, men
stood up in their seats and screamed even louder than

the Indians.

A thrill of renewed excitement swept through stand
and bleachers ; people rose and looked and shouted ques-
tions.

“The Indian pitcher! Lance! The Indian pitcher!”
The cry ran round the seething circle.

The Yale players began to join the Indians, and ask

questions. But Lance shook his head, and continued
on his way, with friends running at his side.
_ The umpire stopped the game temporarily. And the
with a sputtering of questions like
the crackling fire of Gatlings. Men forsook their seats
and climbed down into the field, and even rushed out to
the diamond. :

Dick Merriwell gained the dressing room to which
He, too, began to ask questions.
“T’ve ‘nothing to say,” Lance fired at him. ‘I’m here
if I’m needed—that’s all!”

The Carlisle men cla pped him on the back and i ncils

ders, and danced with joy.

eligi !
Now

“You're needed!” they shouted. /‘You’re

we'll beat ’em!

Sut not even to them, his friends ‘and intimates, would |
Se say a word as to what had befallen him.

“Tater!” he cried. “I'll tell you all about it later.
| Now, let me get into these things.”
He dressed. quickly, and came out—and the umpire

But through the first half of the

Was at bat, he only sat on the bench, as if resting him-
self, getting ready for the work he knew avail be re-
ee of him,

‘CHAPTER IX.
THE BATTLE OF THE NINES.

Ze, tt was in the second half of the fifth ‘that William
‘Lance, the noted Carlisle pitcher,

went into the box.
He looked the. Indian that he was. He was not as

tall as Tallbear, the catcher, nor as heavy; he was tall

nough, though, and as light on his-feet as a wild cat,
ith a quick swing of the arms and shoulders that in-
: ted the wiriness of his oe ’

WEEKLY.

pearance was smiling, except when he wound up for a
throw to-the plate. Then his eyes narrowed, lines bit
into his dark features, and his face dooked as one might
fancy an Indian’s would look who held a scalping knife.
It indicated that he was “out for Blood.”

In facing Lance, Dick Merriwell knew that the Yale
nine had to face a pitcher with tremendous speed.

But he saw that Lance was of the physical type suited
to a high line of effort that could not be prolonged. So
Dick Merriweil’ s order was “Wait ‘em out.”

Metrriwell’s decision was one of solid wisdom. Lance’s
terrific speed, if he was pitted against a nervous, impa-
tient team of\ fast hitters, would enable him,to win al-
most every time; and through this his reputation had
come.

But if the opposing nine waited, and still waited, mak-
ing him pitch and pitch, the very strenuousness of his
efforts would begin to tell on him, :

The Yale men began to make the Carlisle pitcher work
every fiber of his muscles. They got two men on bases,
in spite of his phenomenal speed, and those two men
kept dancing off and drawing ce throws.

Merriwell had known that one of Lance’s cake
was to throw to the bases, and the Yale boys were
primed with that knowledge.

If a pitcher has high speed he does not neéd curves,
and: Lance made use ee a very/ few.

He congratulated himself that he was a hard man to
hammer, and smiled as the “sfrikes’” were called. He
did not notice how the Yale batsmen hung round the
plate. s

There were a good many “balls” called. But he held
the runners to first and second. And at the bat it was
now “One, two—out!” The batsmen hit nothing, and
walked benchward. Lance struck out three men, and
retired the side.

The score was still a tie—tworand two.

The Indians came in’ whooping their joy.

To offset Lance, Jim Phillips was sent in to pitch. He
had not Lance’s speed, but he had some clever curves,
and a wonderfully deceptive fadeaway; and he had on
his shapely shoulders a first-class headpiece

Phillips knew what was expected of him. He must
pitch such ball that the Carlisle men could be held down
to what they had already gained, if possible, and do it
in a manner to husband his strength, while Lance was
wearing himself out.

He had not been given an easy task, and he knew it
as he faced the redskin batters.

In the end, somewhere in the eighth or ninth inning,
Lance would be shattered, and Yale could then pick an
easy victory; for the Indians would ‘pin their hope to
fLance as long as he could swing his atm.

In the second half of the sixth, one of Lance’s cannon
balls twitched Silby on the left elbow, and passed him to
first; but it was no joke for Silby, for he writhed with
the pain of it, though he was glad ‘enough to be presente
Viha that particular bag of sawdust.

' That seemed to rattle Lance, and he let the next man
push Silby to second; so that two bases were filled.

Then Ray hit across’ the diamond to Compton, at
second, who fumbled fearfully. Silby kept right on,
turned third, and beat the ball to the plate.

It was now three to two—Yale was a run in the lead.

eee seventh inning there was a game fight.
Lance seemed even to increase his speed,

 

 
 

Tee FOP

The batters came up, punctured the atmosphere, and
retired; all but one, who gained first, and, by dancing
off and on, kept Lance wrought up, and drew throw
after throw.

/ Phillips, through the first half, had used all his curves,
and his fadeaway, and had held the red men down.

And Lance was breaking-——slow ly. yet surely breaking,
Dick Merriwell saw it, watching him closely,

Through the first half of the eighth, Phillips dupli-
cated his splendid performance—striking the red mien
out in one, two, three order,

It was time for the trial of the new double steal which

had .been planned and practiced for use ‘against Lance.
_ The signals were received, and careful work at the
bat, aided by Lance’s growing weakness in pitching—
the ball as it came from his hand across the plate was
losing much of its steam—enabled Yale to get two men
on bases—on first and third, with only one man out.

The men on the bases worried Lance not a little; it
was always so.

But he turned at last, with his mind made up to throw
to the plate, when the coacher at third yelled suddenly
to the man on first:

“Look out—careful! That’s too big a lead!”

It was the signal agreed on to start the runners; the
man at first had played off with apparent recklessness
—so that he now drew the pitcher’s throw to that point;
-Lance naturally thinking he would try to get back.

But the runner went right on for second.

In his excitement, the first baseman lined the ball to
second, to stop the runner there, before he discovered,
or it got into his head, that the runner from third was
sprinting for the home plate.

The runner at second was not put out; and the second
baseman threw to the plate, with a quick and wheeling
motion that was deserving of all praise.

But too much time had been Idst. The runner pitched
at the plate, and gained it, before the ball struck in the
catcher’s mitt.

Yale hed pulled in another run, so that now it was
four to two, and Merriwell’s headwork was justified.

Lance was even more rattled and disheartened. Then
Brady, who was the next batter up, and a hard and sure
hitter, walloped the ball out, and gained first; so that
again there were two men on bases—once more on first
and third. 4 3

Then Jim Phillips sacrificed, and the man at third’
came home. And now it was: five to two, at the end of
the eighth inning.

Yale was piling up the runs,
, got no more.

As the sides were exchanging,
called into the telephone booth.
called him up was John Raymond.
_. “That you, Merriwell?” he said. “I’m Raymond. I’ve
got that tramp, and he has located those Indians, I’m
going for em, Can you bring a couple of men, and

join me?

How is that?” Dick asked. “The missing Carlisle
pitcher is here; he got here a while ago in an automobile,
with a rush. So what do you mean? .
Ohad Raymond hesitated. He was apparently stumped, or
~ much surprised,

But in that inning they

rie Merriwell was

“Tf you can join me, we'll find out what it means. I’ve.

bet the men located—I think.”

The man who had

WEEKLY,

“T can be with you in a few minutes,” Dick promised.
“Where are you? The game is about ending,”

“What's the score?” Raymond inquired, after he had
acquainted Dick with his location.

“Yale five, Carlisle two. The ninth is about to begin,
with Carlisle-at the bat.”

“Hurray! squeaked through the phone.

“T guess we've got ’em,” said Dick. ‘As soon as it’s
cinched, P’ll hurry to join you. Say, there’s something
queer about this whole thing. Lance won't say a word;
refuses to tell where he has been, or what happened to
him. Well, keep those scamps where we can get. at
‘em, arjd we etl find out ‘what it means. ‘Good by!”

The red men were going to the bat as Dick hurried out’
of the booth.

Jim Phillips was to pitch again.

And he did it in great shape.

It was “‘one, two, three—out!”

The score stood—Yale five, Carlisle two.

Dick Merriwell stepped up to Lance.

“Congratulations,” he said, and held out his hand,
“We were afraid something serious had happened to you,
when you turned up missing.”

“T don’t have to explain it, Merriwell,’” Said Lance.
“Your men won, and that ought to satisfy you.”

“You're not going to help us hunt for the men who
held you?” Dick asked, holding his eye.

“No,” said Lance, with an evasive droop of his eye-
lids, “Nor I wasn’t held by anybody,”

“Not? Then I was misinformed. Anyway, congrat-
ulations. You did good work after you got here, and
I’m sorry you were detained. It made your Bn
uneasy.’

Dick turned away quickly, and avoided the many men_
who were seeking to reach him.
Phillips and Bill Brady, they got into an automobile, and
made a rush for the town

On the way, Dick acquainted them with what he knew ; Sr
which was not much, but was mysterious, tt

“With the help of that tramp, I suppose, Raymond
has located the house to which Lance was taken, That
is, if we’re not all balled up in our ideas,” said Phillips.
“If that is so, it would seem that Lance escaped, and |
that Raymond hadn’t learned of it, But I’m only guess- ‘y
ing, So what's the use?” : ;

Dick Merriwell’s expectation of meeting John Ray-
mond without delay was speedily dashed. Halfway to
the town the automobile stuck, and refused to go ahead, 4

The driver hopped out, and crawled under. the car.
Coming up red-faced, he ‘took his seat again and tried
to start, but the big machine still refused to budge. emg
he didn’t know what was the matter.

While he was again investigating, and fuming, another
automobile came up at high speed, and passed on in the ;
direction of the town.

It held only one occupant, in’ addition to the chauffet
and at this occupant Dick Merriwell stared. For he wa

‘William Lance, the Carlisle pitcher, w ho, had change

quickly into his street clothing,

“Did you see that man ?” Dick exclaimed,
auto, there?” :
Lance had leaned over, and seemed to be pete)
his chauffeur, but even with his head bent the Tec

nized his dark face.
“Lance!” cried Phillips,
Ey en Bill Brady was aroused,

“In th

 

Summoning Jim
_ stopped in front of the house.
: Indian pitcher looked up and down the street.

warm afternoon

Tae CD Or

“Say, does that mean anything?’ he asked. “He

“seems in a mighty hurry!”

Dick was wondering whether it meant ee as he

recalled the singular fact that the Carlisle pitcher had
refused to tell about the strange adventure which had
befallen him.

CHAPTER X.

QUEER WORK.

At the farther end of the town, in a somewhat dilapi-
dated quarter, John Raymond sat on a curbstone in the
sun. He seemed to be doing nothing
in particular, except whittling at a stick of pine he had
torn from an’empty box.

Half a block or so away, also on the curbstone, Omaha
Oliver was sitting—a trampish figure, apparently half
asleep. He was coms nothing at all.

Yet, both these men had under surveillance a ram-
shackle house on that street, which seemed unoccupied.
Raymond was making sure that no one left it on his
end, and the tramp had been intrusted with the task of

guarding the other end.

On Raymond's side, and

before his eyes, was an
alley. The other end

of the house, watched by the
tramp, abutted on a stone wall. If any one left, it
would be by the alley, Raymond had concluded, and gave
that his undivided attention, ‘

But he had felt forced to leave his position for a
few minutes, to go to a public telephone booth and call
up Dick Merriwell at the ball grounds.

That left the house in sole charge of the tramp. - But
when Raymond returned and walked past Omaha Oliver,
the latter had whispered an assurance that there had
been “nothin’ doin’.”

“Not all of these houses are numbered—or else the
numbers have dropped off. But as I gave Merriwell
the street, and described about where this house is, I
guess he can’t miss it,” Raymond whispered, apparently
addressing the broad pine shaving which his knife was
peeling from the stick. “But it's a queer thing that
' Merriwell reported. If Lance got out of here, it must

just

; have | xeen before Oliver and I began our watch; and, of
course, he got out, if he’s

at the ball sro 3 And Mer-
riwell said he was.

That William Lance was not in the house was proved
conclusively, even to John Raymond’s satisfaction, when
the Indian pitcher appeared . in the street there, in an
automobile.

“Hello!” Raymond muttered, and closed his knife with
a snap... “What does this mean?

The automobile came along at moderate speed, and
Before leaping out, the

With the exception of two men, one seeming to be of

‘the laboring class and the other a tramp, who sat idly

on the curbstone some distance apart, the street was de-

-serted. But that was not stranfe, for nearly the w hole

’

town was deserted, the! ogcupants having streamed out to

tae Yale field. 4: yl

_ Apparently satisfied with his inspection of the’ street,
Lance gave a low order to the driver of the car, and
turned to the shabby steps of the house.

There was a. wait of a moment or so, after he had
rapped softly on the door ; then the door operied, and he

vanished inside.

WEEKLY.

Raymond shifted his position almost imperceptibly, so
that he could see the house better without appearing
even to look at it, drew out his knife again, pried open
the blade slowly with his thumb nail, and began to strip
another shaving off the pine stick.

“I don’t know but I ought to go right in now,’ was
his thought. “And I would, if Merriwell were here.
But I can afford to wait. And I suppose I’m glad that
Lance has shown up. It proves that I’m right, and the
tramp is right. But I wonder what Lance is up to?”

He looked at the automobile.

“Intends to get away in that, eh? Maybe so.”

Then he observed that Omaha: Oliver had got up and
was walkiag toward him. Raymond tried to motion him
to go back, without attracting the attention of the people
in the house.

It was a failure. The tramp did not see that slight
wave of the hand, or chose to ignore it. And he came
straight on, with a walk so brisk that it showed he was
stirred. :

Raymond could not afford to make himself conspicu-
ous, so, though he growled anathemas, he maintained -his

‘outward attitude of indifference, and slipped the shining

blade of the knife along the stick.

When Oliver came up, he stopped with a jerk,
looked at the house.

“Did y’ see that?” he asked. . “I mean,
nize that that feller was an eae ?

“Don’t be a fool!” growled Raymond.
in my head! Move on, sae keep moving.
place to tall.’

The tramp hesitated, hitched his shoulders, and
obeyed, walking on as if he meant to pass up the
street.

As he did so, and him with
an ill-concealed frown Of annoyance, the door ‘of the
shabby house was flung,violently open, and three figures
came out of it at a run, two of them hooded with
blankets and feathered like’ Indians. The third was
William Lance. ~\.

As they made straight for the automobile, Raymond
came to his feet. The driver, who had leaped down as
they appeared in the door, was cranking his machine,
which broke into a roar; and it api almost instantly,
as he sprang back into his sea , while the three men,
piled in indiscriminately. a

Raymond began to run tow Ard the automobile.

“Stop!” he nee :

Fle flung up his knife, as if it were a rev olver,

we orden you to halt!” he yelled. |

The moving automobile was gathering speed, and the
driver bent over the wheel.

Raymond got within two yards of the car. Lance
turned, staring at him. Then, seeing his red and. ex-
ee face, and the ‘pointed handle of the knife, the

Carlisle pitcher flung him an ironical laugh that stung
the discomfited détactive like a lash in the ‘fake

The next instant the automobile leaped into swifter
speed, and Raymond, unable to cope with it, was left
gasping from his efforts like a stranded fish. |

The automobile rgared down the street, gaining in
speed each instant, flashed round the corner ‘beyond, and
swas out of sight; but Raymond could see the dust cloud

and
did y’ recog-

“T’ve got eyes
This is no

ae glanced after

it kicked up, and was sure it was heading for the road.

‘that led out into the open country.
A quick shuffle of feet behind him told that the tramp

 

 
eee

er eee rencene
ee : _

 

*\
eS

when we're going.”

i “Who' s to pay the fine:

. TIP’ TOP

i
_had-turned about, and was approaching.
voice of Omaha Oliyer broke:

“Chee! . Dey

“Why didn’t you stay at your end; why
‘come up here and speak to me? * You he

Then Raymond stopped. The tramp was not to blame.

From the manner in which the thing had been done,
it seemed clear that. Lance had come up primed for it,
and that he had suspected the men on the curbing as
soon as he saw them there.

“Wow!” Oliver cried. “You t’ink I could ’a’
dat auto? If I’d been dere an’ triéd it,
smashed me. And now dey’re gone. Chee!
mé sore.”

Raymond was sore, too.

He turned back,. plunged into the alley, and began to
make his way toward one of the principal streets.

“TJ don’t suppose there’s an automobile to be had in
the town,” he grumbled. “Everything’s
grounds.”

Omaha Oliver caught up with him,

“Wasn't dem chenuine Indians?” he

“Ask me something easy,’’ snapped
ooking for an automobile, and I might
for the moon.”

“Dat’s right, too. Chee!”

The tramp’s poorly shod feet slapped against the
broken brick pavement disconsolately.

Then the hoarse

did you

stopped
‘twould 7a’
Dat makes

at a run.
demanded.
Raymond. “I’m
as well be crying

CHAPTER XI.

THE HEART OF THE MYSTERY

Y Das in the street, along w hich he and'the tramp hur-
tied John Raymond soon+beheld that which ought not
to have been wholly unexpected—an automobile bearing
Dick Merriwell and two young fellows in Yale baseball
clothing, in additién to the driver.

He stopped them with a shout and a wave

and stepped from the gidewalk. .
“Ffello !” said Merriwell, astonished. “I hope we are
not too late. Our machine broke down on the road and
delayed us a few minutes. But this isn’t the place where
we were to find you!”

“No, it isn’t,” Raymond confessed. “Let us in—you ‘ve
got room enough. I hope this is a fast machine. Have
your driver hit the road that leads out from this street,
and then proceed to break things. They’ve beat me out

,—got away! They’re on that road, in an automobile.”

Tle spoke “quickly , and began to climb into the car.

“Goin’ like a cyclone, too!” added Omaha Oliver,
straddling a wheel and swinging up, unabashed. “Me
fer de downy cushions, if it’s goin’ to be a race.”

“The men you were watching got away?” said Mer-

of his hand,

*\ -riwell.

“In an automobile, ‘and are gaining every minute,”
cried Raymond, puffing and red-faced. “Have your man
hit it up, or we ‘ll never get in sight of them. I'll explain

Dick gave the order.
“Break the speed laws?’

S994

The chauffeur. grinned.
’in an officer,” “and I’m after law-
- breakers now.
break something wor se than the speed law s, and Il
stand the consequences.

The automobile atatied, with a . lurch, and, increasing

said Raymond,

got away Ss 7

out at the ball.

ne even more “anxiéus to overtake that bunch.

You go ahead, young man, ‘even if you’

WEEKLY. 17

in speed as it passed down the street, it came soon out
upon the country road.

‘“There’s their tire tracks,”
ahead of us. ~Now, hit it up!’

He had already been trying to eee

“They were in that house, where I told you.
Omaha Oliver, and he led me to it. ‘He said three men
were in the house, but he was. mistaken. One of them
had got out, and that was William Lance. He came back
in an automobile, while we were still watching the house.
And I suppose he came from the ball field.”

“That’s right,” Dick agreed. “He passed us in his
auto, while ours was stuck. We followed as soon as
we could.” :

“Chee !”’ whispered Omaha Oliver, listening, and look-
ing at the spinning wheels, while he enjoyed the fast
motion and the swing of the cushioned seat under him.
“J hope she don’t git stuck again.’

“As I had seen him down at the station when his
team came in, | knew who he was,” Raymond was ex-
plaining. “But his coming rather feazed me, even though
you had said he was out at the grounds. Well, he went
into the house, and soon he came out of it, with a mighty
rush, and.two men with him. They were hooded and
feathered, and were either ete or disguised as In-
dians. I didn’t have much chance for a look. For as
soon as they struck the duto, they piled in, and away
she went. I couldn’t stop ’em, cn I tried.”

He glanced ahead.

“There’s a dust cloud,” he said,
Then he spoke to the driver: “Can you overhaul that |
dust cloud? They can’t know that we’re after them in
an. auto.” .

He turned back to Dick Merriwell and the baseball
boys.

“I’m puzzled,” he confessed frankly.

said Raymond, “‘straight

I found

“and they’re under it.”

“And that makes
For,| you —

see
He did not need-to put the itiele into woNds.
Merriw ell did it for him:

“If Lance was captured by white men, disguised as
Indians, and escaped from them, would he refuse to talk
about it when he came out to the field; then return to
them, and help them to get away?”

“There, you have it,” said Raymond.

Dick

“From any sane
viewpoint, we've got to say he wouldn't.”
“Then, ‘the two men with him are Indians.”

“Carlisle Indians?” said Phillips.

“I fall down there,” said Raymond. | “Why would —
members of his own team capture him and hold him out —
of that ball game? Ask me something easy.” %

The chauffeur, with a love of racing held in check ottly
by his’ fear of the speed laws, now released from that
fear by the backing given him, began to get out. of his
car every pound of power that was in it; and, as it was
a high-powered machine, rated at forty horse power, but |
with an excess of that, the indicator quickly turned round _
to the highest point, and the wheels seemed to hit only,
the high places.

There was a roar, an almost painful stroke of the wind,

a far-trailing cloud of dust, and a landscape flung past ss
and shattered.

The occupants of the car clurig to the seats, and’ Omaha x
Oliver whitened slowly round the mouth wherever the

skin was clean enough for the pallor to show through. =>

“Chee! Dere’s a stone wall. No, we missed —

i

Biff!

 
Jay away.

ee ROE

it! An’ we didn’t tecl e jumped it. Wow!
Dis is flyin’; dis ain’t no ottermobile, dis is an aéroplane,
Wow! If I git out of dis I’m dead lucky.”

There had been difficulty in talking before. That diffi-
culty was so increased now that talking was impossible.

The dust cloud was drawing closer,

Instead of advaficing, it seemed to hang in the air,
Out of it an automobile came soon, approaching,

John Raymond leaned over and tapped the driver on
the shoulder,

“Slow up when we come to that car; it won’t lose
much time, and I'll ask ’em a question.”

The driver slowed up as the two cars came close to-
gether. Raymond was now staring at the car that came
toward him. It held but one man. Instead of flinging
a question at him, Raymond let the automobile go by, and
looked at its wheel tracks, Then he jumped suddenly to
his feet.

“Stop that car!’ he yelled,

The car that was passing on came to a halt, and the
man turned in the seat.

“What's wanted?’ he said.

“Didn't you drop some passengers out a little while
ago?’ Raymond demanded,

“Well, +f 1: did-——”

A see you did. What became of them?”

“That's none of your business,”
turned on his power,

Raymond choked down his tage.
: “That’s all right,’ ‘he said. “Let him go. We can see
where his machine stopped and turned round. Drive
ahead,” .

They went on rapidly, while the other automobile con-
Vaid on its way back to the town.
it had stopped and turned about was soon reached,

There Raymond leaped down in the road and began
an inspection of the road dust. Theft he looked up.

‘They crossed the road here,” he said. ‘Three men}

two of thém wore moccasins, and the other baseball shoes.

Look for yourselves.” He jumped to the side of the
>» road, . “And here’s where they went—where they left
_ the road,”
_A lane led off from the road toward a clump of trees
that stood at the side of pasture land, a quarter of a mile

“Come on!” he said, “They hit out for those trees.
‘Perhaps there’s a house there. Or they have’ made for
the road that must be on the other side.”

__ Dick Merriwell and his companions jumped down, with
Omaha Oliver, and, leaving the chauffeur in charge of
the automobile, they followed John Raymond, who struck
- off down the lane at a fast clip, his keen, restless eyes
searching the ground on each side of the lane, to make
_ sure that he missed nothing. .
_ The quarter of a mile to the trees was soon covered,
_ {There a path diverged, and at the end of the path stood
cn a little house not much better than a cabin. !
a5 “They’ re in there,’ Raymond whispered; “dollars
against doughnuts. that. I’m right. Can we make a sur-
round without them seeing us?”
_ As they were accomplishing it, a blanketed figure ap-
peared in the door of the house, eon out for a look,
most in Raymond’s face. Then. it dodged back.

“Cover the windows!’ Raymond whispered; and

tepped up to the door, which had been-closed instantly.

hen he hammered: with his knuckles, :

said the driver; and

The point where

WEEKLY,

“Open the door,” he said, “for we'll break it down.
Lance, you’re in there, and I know it,. You might as well
step up to the captain’s office and make an explanation.
We've not chased you this far, to go back without an
understanding of this situation,”

A dusty curtain flipped at a window on Merriwell’s
side, an eye showed there, and vanished,

Omaha Oliver, at Merriwell’s side, was crouching and
shivering like a wet dog.

The voice of John Raymond broke again on the still-
ness, speaking to Lance,

Then the door opened, and William Lance appeared.

Before him he saw Raymond and Bill Brady, with
Jim Phillips at the corner of the house. And he had
discovered that two men, one of them Dick Merr iwell,
were on the other side of the house.

“What do you want?” he asked, his voice trembling,

“An explanation,’ said Raymond, “Perhaps that will
be enough, It all depends. We think we’re entitled to
that much, and perhaps more. Kidnaping is a crime,
But you seem not to have been kidnaped. Will you
cough up the secret, or shall, I run you in?” He flipped
open his coat and showed his badge, “I’m speaking to
you as an officer. If law has been violated, I hope [
know my duty. But if no law has been violated-——”
“None has been violated,” said Lance,

“Glad to hear it,’ Raymond stated. “TI don’t like
trouble. Dick Merriwell is here, and some of his friends,
You vanished, and some people might continue to think
that the Yale nine had something to do with it, if no
proper explanation reached them. (lt strikes me that
ao in a position to furnish that/proper explanation.

I don’t need to say more,”

Lance hesitated.

“If no erime was committed, and I tell you about it—
what really was aay not make any trouble? I’ d
like to be sure of that. Let Merriwell come up and say
that, and I'll believe it.”

Merriwell, called by Raymond,’ came up, and gave the
promise,

“All right, then,”
ant 2 ;
When they entered the house, they found, with Lance, -
two Indians—undoubted Indians, clothed in the regula-
‘tion blankets, each with a single feather sticking up som

said Lance, pial relieved. “Come

his braid of black hair,

They looked at the intruders in gloomy silence.

“This man, here,” said Lance, indicating the one near-
est, “is my father, The other is my uncle, They’ re.
from the Cheyenne-Arrapalfo agency in Northwestern
Oklahoma, close by the Kansas line, They’re Chee
So am I a Cheyenne, and [ came from. there to Carlisle.

Recently they were induced to come on to B ridgeport, in —

hag

4

this State—it isn’t far from here—where Barnum ee

Bailey’s circus goes each year into winter quarters. They

had the consent of the Indian Department to do that, and |

to join the show for the summer season, They got there
too late. The show was already on the road, With
them were two other men—young men, from the. same —
agency; not full bloods. These men. had been with: tl
show the season before. One of them is nearly whit
—you might take him far,a white man., These two men _

of the ways of this country,
“Finding they could not join the show, they conclu
to sae oa to New. eM for thes “young ment

had charge of my father aud my uncle,” who are ignorelita :

 
a

=

ee eee a ee ee

iain

Then I slipped away from, them,

road.

Poise be

them learned that the Carlisle nine was to play here to-
day. Then my father and my uncle, in talking it over,

came to the conclusion to attempt to do a very foolish

thing, though it does not seem foolish from their stand-
point. My father has never been willing for me to at-
tend Carlisle. His ideas are those of an old-time In-
dian. He does not believe in schools and the white
man’s education. So they concluded they would come
stealthily into New Haven, and would seize me and
force me to return to the agency with them.”

He stopped.

“Does that explain anything?”

ra whole lot,’ said Raymond.
ever ything.”

“T guess it explains

“One of the young men came to the hotel, tol Id me_

my father was out there in the street, and induced me
to go out to see him. Of course I went. Then I was
seized and carried away. For hours I was coaxed and
commanded to return to the agency. I had no notion
of doing it. I wanted to play in that game, and I
wanted to stay with the nine and return to Carlisle.
when they were try-
ing to get some sleep, and went out to: the ball field.

“J didn’t want to explain what had happened, though
I intended to tell my friends all about it; for they wotld
understand it. White. men I knew would not under-
stand. Then, right after the game, I was told that Mer-
riwell had started for the town in an automobile and
meant to arrest my father and uncle for what they had
done. One of the nine had overheard him talking in the
telephone booth, and something he said after he came
out of it. And he had been seen to get into an auto with
some friends and set out for the town.

“IT took another automobile, and passed him on. the
When I got to the house where my father and
my uncle were in hiding, I saw the two men sitting out-
side, and I knew what.it meant. I was right. T hen we
tried to get away. But you followed us, The young

men are still in the town

‘Elis voice broke in a Shaky way.
“That is all,” he said, and threw out His hands. “But
T don’t see how it can be a violation of any white man’s

daw for a father to want to get his son to go back home

Ww ith him.”

“Same over here,” whispered Omaha Oliver. “Tain’t
no violation. But—chee! wot do you t’ink of that?”
, The frightened Indians were given a ride back to
New Haven in Merriwell’s automobile, after Lance had

‘been assured that no harm would come to them, and he

had been able to drive that belief into their somewhat

sceptical minds.

And, later, the mystery of the kidnaped pitcher was

si made ‘clear to everybody in New Haven.

THE END,

|. TO TIP TOP READERS:

Recommend to your friends, boys, the new series
of thoroughly original and strikingly novel baseball

stories, by Burt L. Standish, now running in TIP
TOP. This new baseball series began in Number 834.

The Vale

- “—Dick Merriwell’s Battle for the Blue; or,
Nine ‘at West Point’’—an excellent baseball story—will
anpear in the next issue of this weekly. The foreign
foe of the universal coach reappears to threaten the w ork

of Y ale on the diamond.

/

A paymaster is robbed and

_ coupons.

WEEKLY. 19

circum-
at great per-
The story is a
great deal about life at West
as well as interesting. It is »

the affair is surrounded by many mysterious
stances. Omaha Oliver reappears,- and,
sonal risk, proves himself Dick’s friend.
rattling good one, with a
Point that is instructive
No. 838, out May 4th.

—_————_ a oe oo -—----

TIP TOP’S BASEBALL CHAMPIONSHIP GAMES.

At the end of the baseball season, eighteen ball players
are going to receive eighteen brand new uniforms; con-
sisting of cap, shirt, belt, trousers, and stockings. The
boys receiving this uniform equipment will be the mem-
bers of the two nines playing the greatest number of
games and making the largest number of runs during
the season.

Is your nine playing to win these uniforms? If not,
see the announcement of Tip Top Baseball Tournament
in this number, read the rules carefully, and clip the
Then play ball, fill in the coupons according
to instructions, and get the manager of your team to
mail the coupons to the editor of Tip Top.

————- = ° & +

Against Heavy Odds.

By W. MURRAY GRAYDON.

CHAPTERS.
employed by the
night Haldane is

is rescued by an
Haldane then

SYNOPSIS OF PRECEDING
Fulke Haldane, an English boy of cighteen, is
shipping firm of Benstrong & Renswick. One
attacked by a bandit named Serafine, in London. He
American newspaper correspondent, Dick Rokeby.
gains information that causes him to suspect es his father was
killed, years before, by Otto. Daranyi, his mother’s brother. Count
Rudolph Daranyi, his grandfather, a Hungarian’ w ishes to see him at
Monastir, to make him his heir. Haldane is tricked into sailing on
the Rangood, one of Benstrong’s ships, which is later captured by a
Turkish war vessel, and the discovery made th: ut she is carrying con-
ti iband of war for the Macedonians. The captiin and crew are ‘taken
prisoners and Haldane finds himself in danger of being made ‘to suffer
for the misdeeds of the captain and crew. He appe als to Gibson, one
of the crew, to help him. Gibson is \sympathetic, -but refuses to
speak a word to save Haldane, who then declares that he, will find a
rae of his own to escape from the Turks. The captain and crew are
taken to prison at Salenika. Haldane, at the behest of Otto Daranyi,
is taken by soldiers to a garden to be shot. -He is again rescued by
Dick Rokeby. The two proceed together to the seat of war operations,
Haldane traveling with the passport of an American correspondent
named Tom Denver. They decide to travel on to Monastir together to
visit Haldane’s grandfather. The two young men travel on a transport
train, which is blown up by insurgents. “Haldane and Rokeby, in a
battle, are taken prisoners by the insurgent leader, who proves, to be
Sandor Daranyi, a: brother of Otto, and Haldane’s uncle. Haldane
and Sandor become good friends. They march on to a village that
has been sacked’ by Turks, and the two Americans see some harrowing
sights.’ They are attacked by the Turks, and the two boys fight so
bravely that they are freed. They take the passports of two young
Americans who had been killed by brigands and proceed, under the
nimes of the dead, to Monastir. There they learn that a military
telegrapher is needed.

Haldane takes a desperate risk and plays the party

CHAPTER XIII.
A BOLD GAME.

“It is you who ought to be suspected,” broke in Fulke, as he —
boldly confronted his uncle, “Whoever you are, it looks very
much as if you wanted to prevent the Turks from taking
Florana, lf I were the general I should arrest you as a spy.’

“A spy?” yelled Otto Daranyi. “OF all the insufferable impu- .
dence [ ever M,

He aimed a gavage blow at his dephew: striking him on the:
shoulder, and with that the soldiers laid’hold of him and dragged.
him aside: At once he became outwardly calm, though his face
was purple with rage. He whispered 4 few words to Serafine,
who hurriedly left the telegraph office. ‘The lads noted this with, sg
anxiety, but did ‘not show a sign of it. as

“Tf your excellency still doubts me——” said Rokeby. re

“No; you shall send the mesage,” replied the general. “If you
are impostors, it. will be a simple matter to shoot you after-—
ward.” fs

 

As one of the dead men was a telegrapher,
20 TIP

“You won’t do that,” Rokeby laughed. He took rice paper
and a tobacco pouch frem his pocket and handed them to his
chum, “Roll a couple of cigarettes, Forbes—one for each of
us, We haven’t had a whiff to-day. I am ready, your excel-
lency,” he added, sitting down in the chair.

“Then begin,” said Nadir Pasha. “You will wire as follows:
To Riza Pasha, in camp at Florana——”

“T have it,” declared Rokeby, who was briskly working the
keyboard.

“Your excellency, I must protest,’ cried Otto Daranyi. “You
will bitterly rue this. I swear to you that——’

“Silence!” thundered Nadir Pasha; and with a gesture of
despair the Austrian stepped back.

“T am waiting,” Rokeby coldly reminded him.

“Go on,” said the general. “Bad news received from Riskub
in the west,” he dictated.

Tap-tap-tap, tap-tap. “Have just received

_ wired Rokeby, omitting any mention of Riskub.,

are, sir,” he said. :

“The Insurgent Chief
large force,’ continued

' relieve Florano. He will
”»

bad news,”
“Right you

Sandor has left that place with a
Nadir Pasha, “and is marching to
now be within three or four miles of

_“A large force under the Insurgent Chief Sandor is marching
to relieve Florana from the north,” the daring lad clicked off.
He wired the last sentence, and looked up.

_ “Send two hundred.of your troops to check him,” dictated the
general. .

“Send one-half of your forces to check him,” flashed Rokeby.
He took a cigarette from his chum and lighted it. - Puff, puff—
the fragrant cloud curled upward from his lips, “Any more?”
he asked.

“Yes; go on,” replied Nadir Pasha.
“Start at once. The rugged country is favorable for your
success. Take two field guns, and conceal your mén in one of
the mountain passes, so that it can be swept by their fire.

Either drive Sandor back, or prevent his farther advance. I °

am sending a force of Bashi-Bazouks to your support imme-
diately.”

Rokeby hammered the board with short pauses; he was re-
'peating the message word for word, since there was no occasion
to alter it. ;

“This will cook Riza Pasha’s goose,” he told himself.

Fulke, also with a lighted cigarette in his mouth, leaned in a
careless attitude agaitrst the table, glancing now at his chum and
now at the sunny street without. His features, impassive and
steady, gave no indication of the strain on his nerves,

“Ts he doing it?” he wondered. “Will he dare? Yes, he will.
I know him. He will send part of the Turks off in another
_ direction, and Sandor will attack the rest and join Sarafoff, It
will be all up with us if we are in Monastir when the trick is

discbvered. It can’t make much difference, though. We are in
a hole, anyway, since my uncle has found us. But perhaps we

can keep on bluffing him, and thus get a chance to escape to
- Florana. If we pull through this all right, we'll have to cast
in our lot with the insurgents.” ; .

Otto Daranyi fumed and chafed, his black eyes snapping
“ yenomously as he looked at his nephew. There was silence in the
_ room, save for the rapid tap-tapping of the instrument and the
- general’s dictating voice. The Austrian could coritain himself_po

longer. a,
“Stop, stop!” he shouted hoarsely. “By heavens, this is mad-
-dening. If your excellency but knew——”

-» Halim Bey checked him with a threat, and. the soldiers
- pushed him nearer the door. Daranyi was an important per-
-sonage, an emissary of a friendly government, and they had to
treat-him with consideration. » ;
- “That is all,” said Nadir Pasha, concluding. ;
"Very good, sir,” exclaimed Rokeby, as he pushed his chair
from the table and rose. “The dispatch has gone through—
_ you can make your mind easy on that. And now, 1f you will——”

“What are they doing at Florana?” interrupted the general.

' Rokeby bent over the instrument. He tapped it for a mo-
ment, and listened to the-reply that followed. “A riot has
broken out at Monastir,” he rapped quickly to the other end.
This office is closed by orders. Good-by.” He turned to the
eneral with an air of excitement.

nemy had crept round to the south, and that it was feared

ey meant to cut the line, when communication was suddenly

They have cut the wires, your excellency.”
“Don’t believe it’?

BOP *

He dictated as follows:

it. “Bad news,” he said,. *The.
elegrapher in camp was just telling me that a small force of the

WEEKLY.

“Tt is true, all the same,” Rokeby coolly declared. “I can do
nothing more for you,” he added; “Are we at liberty to go—I
and my friend Forbes? We wish to find lodgings in the town.”

“Detain them, your excellency,” begged the Austrian.
_“T see no reason for. doing that,” said Nadir Pasha. “Should’
I want them again f
: There was a commotion at the door, and into the room burst
Serafine, followed by a stalwart Bashi-Bazouk. The latter
stepped forward and briefly scrutinized the lads.

“I know them,” he shouted. “They were both at Prisna,
fighting with Captain Sandor’s band. I saw them with rifles in
their hands, loading and firing.” «

“You hear?” cried Otto Daranyi.
cellency? Do you still doubt?”

“But the passports?” urged the general.

“They may have others concealed,”

“Search them from head to foot,” bade Nadir Pasha.

It was short work. Off came the lads’ boots, then their
stockings, and the hidden passports were handed to the general.
A glance was enough.

“They are spies and rebels, these dogs,” he thundered. “Take
them outside and shoot them. No—stop. Wait until I have
heard from Florana. If a false message has been sent I will
at them bastinadoed first and shot afterward. Away with
them,” ,

Otto Daranyi’s face glowed with fierce triumph as the. pris-
oners were dragged from the office. Followed by a curious
crowd, they were hurried through the streets to the prison,
which. was on the northern outskirts of the town. They were
halted for a moment at the gate, and here a yellow-bearded man,
wearing a green uniform and a white cap, pushed his way to
them,

“I am the Russian consul, Major Vanhoff,” he said, in Eng-
lish. “Which of you is the grandson of Count Rudolph Daranyi?”

“T am,” Fulke told him.

“Then keep up your courage. I have heard of you; I know
that the count is expecting you at his castle. Have you any
money ?”

“We had,” said Rokeby, “but it was taken from us.”

“No matter. I «will see to that. I will save you both if I
can. Meanwhile, do not despair.”

“You will save us?” exclaimed Fulke. ' “But why——” i
“IT have one or two old scores—diplomatic ones—against
Otto Daranyi,” the consul whispered, “and I think I see my ©

way to wipe them out.”

He was hustled to one side by the soldiers.. The gate opened,
and the prisoners were led across the yard-and into a low,
whitewashed building with barred windows. An instant later
they were locked in a narrow cell, 7

“Do you think there is any hope?” Fulke asked. eagerly,

_ “T don’t know,” Rokeby answered, “Better not count on it.”

“Who was right, your ex-

CHAPTER XIV.
THE CASTLE IN THE MOUNTAINS,

The day wore on, and at intervals, in the deserted télegraph
office, an angry clicking told that the clerk at Riza Pasha’s field ~

camp was vainly trying to communicate with Monastir. The
sun went down,
arrived with tidings of defeat or victory.
It was somé time after midnight, in the small hours of the ~
morning, when, Fulke and Rokeby were roused from a troubled »
sleep. The moon was shining through a grated window, and by
the silvery light they saw the Turkish jailer standing over them.
He spoke no word, but they understood what his gestures —

-meant. They silently followed him through the prison, and into —

a little yard at the rear. With the jailer’s help they climbed to.
the top of the wall, and as quickly lowered themselves on. the -
other side. Vs fed ae
“By Jove, the consul has kept his promise,” whispered Fulke. ~
“It looks like it,” Rokeby assented. “But what next?” =
Jith that a man approached. He was attired like a Mace- —
donian peasant, but-lhis features were European and he spoke in”
English, with a foreign accent. ) De Sele
-*T am acting for Major Vanhoff,” he said. “Come. Follow ~
me, and make no noise.’ / aS ela
‘The town was behind, and in front lay a fringe of struggling
suburbs, The three passed warily on,, past dark cottagesand a.
mosque, over a stone bridgé spanning a stream, and then
the jaws of a mountainous gorge. .Another hundred yards,
the guide stopped. From a clump of trees he led out two horses,

4

_ saddled and bridled. |

 

but no news came from Florana; no courier hs

ant
 

 

TIP TOP

“Be off at once,” he urged. “Lose no time. Here are pistols
for you. Keep to the road for nine miles, till you come to a
village; then bear to the right, and three miles will bring you
to the castle of Count Daranyi, where you' must hide till the
datiger blows over. But you are taking your lives in your hands,
my friends. Turkish patrols are everywhere, and you are likely
to fall in with some of them,”

“We'll run the chances,’ replied Fulke. “Thank the Russian
consul for us. We shall never forget this.”

The guide nodded. A word of farewell, and he was gone.

Swinging to the saddle, the lads rode forward at a brisk trot,
grateful beyond measure for their deliverance from Nadir
Pasha’sywrath. For an hour they followed the stony, winding
trail between towering hills and gigantic rocks; and then, as
they were chatting light-heartedly of the thrilling events of the
day, a loud voice hailed them,

“Make a dash for it,” exclaimed Fulke.

hope. ‘

“A mighty slim one,” muttered Rokeby.

They tried it, stooping low as they pounded on.
crack, crack, crack! Red flashes spurted from the rocky cover
right and left, bullets hummed like bees, and down crashed one
steed, pitching its rider overhead. The rifles volleyed and
ceased, and the clamor faded into silence, as Fulke, unable to
check his frightened horses, galloped alone at furious speed up
the gloomy ravine.

* * *

“That’s the only

* He * *

The morning sun, rising aboye the peaks, looked down into a
fertile little valley and. gilded the walls of Count Rudolph
Daranyi’s castle. It hardly deserved that pretentious name; it
was a small chateau, a summer residence built in the bracing
- mountain air of northern Macedonia, lying a stone’s throw off
_ #the rugged path. Natural or artificial protection it had: none,
but here the aged nobleman, kept a prisoner by illness, had
) odwelt during the local disturbance. Turk and insurgent alike
had refrained from molesting him.
The count was slowly improving, and ‘he hoped to return to
- Hungary—to his splendid mansion in Budapest. He was
gocyenty years old, with iron-gray beard and bushy eyebrows,
_ patrician features, and eyes that had lost none of their fire. He
oh oh that morning,
that looked toward the western hill slopes bathed in sunlight.
His wheeled chair had been drawn to the window, He was
__ smoking a deep-bowled pipe, and a book lay, unheeded, on his
jlap. He was not altogether alone, though his faithful valet, Karl,
_ was out of the room. A slight sound of breathing came from a
- curtained alcove, behind which was a couch.
The house faced the east, and Count Rudolph’s chambers were
at the rear. He had heard nothing to suggest the arrival of a
_ visitor, and he was the more surprised when the door opened and
_ the servant appeared, ushering in a lad who was disheveled and
dusty, pale with fatigue.
“Master, good news,’ exclaimed Karl.
~. and I brought him straight to you.’ ;
“Brought who?” demanded the count. “It is surely not——”
“Tam Fulkeelaldane,” said the lad, with a courteous bow.
“You sent for me, and I am here.”
“Charles Haldane’s son?” cried the count, his gray cheeks
flushing. “Yes, there is no doubt of that., You are the image
of your. father, and you resemble your mother as well. She
was my daughter, and Captain Haldane stole her from me.
' But that was long, long ago; I am an old man now, and I have
Jearned to forgive and forget. Come closer,” he went on,
struggling avith emotion, “Give me your hand.”
He drew the lad to him; turned him to the sunlight, and
~ looked’ wistfully into his face.
' “Be seated,” he bade him, “T have waited for this hour,
‘are welcome, grandson,”
4 «Will you say that,” asked Fulke,
_ life is in danger, and that my only hope i is to find a hiding place
| under your roof?”
_ “Yow are doubly welcome,” vowed: ‘the « count. “But how——”
“And that is not all, sir. I came here. from England at your
bidding, and for. another reason as well—to seek what informa-
tion you can give me concerning my father’s murderer.”
The count’s face hardened, “Captain Haldane was killed by
brigands,” he replied coldly. “It was a foul crime.”
“And you would not willingly screen the assassin?”
“Screen him? No, my boy; I would help you find him, if I

;

“He has come at last,

{
I

Grate

an hour after breakfast, in the big apartment ,

TOR:

“when I tell you that my —

WEEKLY. 2I

“Then [ ask that help, sir, and if you will listen I will reveal
to you what will probably throw some light upon——”

“Wait,” interrupted the count. “Let me hear your story first.
If you are in danger J must take immediate steps for your
safety. Karl, begone!’

The servant left the room, and in as few words as possible
Fulke’ related his adventures, from the time he had _ been
thrown into the hold of the Rangoon until the encounter with
the Turkish patrol on the previous night.

“T had to leave my companion to ‘his fate,’ he continued, “TI
could not stop, for my horse ran off with me. He galloped for
several miles before he dropped over from loss of blood; he
had been hit with a bullet without my knowing it, I pushed on
ahead on foot, then, and found my'!way here. I should have
gone back to look for Dick Rokeby had there been the least
chance of his escape. But the Turks must have shot him! he
never opened his mouth after he fell. ‘He was one of the best
fellows that ever breathed. And for cool daring and quick

wits hs

Fulke’s voice trembled and choked. “I loved him like a
brother,’ he vowed; unashamed of the tear that trickled down
his cheek.

“Do not be sure that he is dead,” “He
may have escaped in the darkness.” .

“Let us hope so,” called a voice from the alcove. “Let us
hope that fate has spared that brave young American.”

With that, the curtain was drawn aside, and the speaker was
seen lying half upright on a couch, with a rug over the lower
part of his body. Fulke stared at him incredulously, then
sprang across the room.

“Captain Sandor!” he, exclaimed.

“Aye, we meet again,” replied Sandor Daranyi, as he clasped
the lad’s hand, “I predicted the same, yet little dreamed how it
would come about. I have heard all, my boy. I listened to your
tale, and it throws light on the events of yesterday.”

“So the trick succeeded?” cried Fulke,

@ ‘Finely, thanks to your American friend.”

Captain Sandor briefly explained, He had made a rapid march
from the west, driven off the half of Riza Pasha’s
relieved Florana, and later met and defeated the other force :
me had been decoyed to the north, inflicting severe losses upon
them.

“It was a glorious victory,” he concluded, “But unfortu-
nately, I got a ball in the thigh, and my men brought me here
in order that I might be properly cared for. They gave me a
sleeping draft first, else 1 would have opposed their intention.
But it is all right. My father and I are reconciled, We are
foes no longer,”’

“I am glad to hear that,” Fulke declared heartily, with tio
thought oF the change this would make in his prospects 7

“Yes, I have learned the lesson of forgiveness,”
count. “I was alone in the world, and now I have a son and a
grandson to cheer my old age. ‘That they may be spared to me
is my earnest prayer. But I 4m afraid that you are both in
some danger. If the Turks visit the castl——”’ ike

“There is little likelihood of that,’ broke in andor.

-can the Turks know that either of us are here?’

“There is one with them who knows of my plans,”
“and he may tell them. I refer to my Uncle Otto,”
“Otto!” muttered Count Rudolph, his face darkening. “Hark cy
he added. ‘What is that?” te

- Horsemen were coming up the valley..
drew swiftly near, stopped before the house. Loud voices were
heard. The three looked at one another anxiously. :

“Tt is all right,” assured Sandor. “They are some 6f-my men
whom Sarafoff has Sent to ‘inquire about my wound, I - expected
them this morning.” Fae

“Can we be certain of that?” exclaimed the edule:

Nothing could be seen from the windows, which were at. the
rear of the house. For a moment the clamor continued, and it
had an ominous sound, ashe

“There is something wrong,” vowed. Fille if

“I fear so,” the count replied. “Yot must both ail’ a ing
place, and at once, Ring for the servants, my boy, ourage,
Sandor, I will have you. carried to the secret chamber which,
overlooks——”

It was too late, The door suddenly ‘opened; and Kari,
and excited, burst into the room with such haste that he measured.
his length on the floor. At his. heels. were two men, one in a
Turkish uniform, and Fulke’s heart sank as he recognized Hali:
Bey: and. Otto Be? 1, bis ba drew a sword aut poraeaues

said Count Rudolph.

”

“How tl

said F ulke,

 

force, and. +

said the ns |

The clatter of Boat as
$1P> EOP

“Do not resist,” he said fiercely. “It is useless. We are not
alone. There are soldiers outside—half a score.”

Sandor Daranyi half rose, sank back, with a groan, as he
realized his helplessnes. In spite of his infirmities, Count Ru-
dolph got out of his chair. He stood stiffly erect, his eyes
flashing as he stared at his son,

“You scoundrel!” he cried.
Begone!”

' “You wrong me,” declared Otto Daranyi, shrinking from his

father’s glance. “You hate me bitterly, sir; J know that. But
I feel no malice. 1 came to serve you and those dear to you, I
accompanied the Turks to see that no harm was done to Sandor
and to this lad; the one was known to be here, and the presence
of the other was suspected. They would have been shot at once
had I not interceded for them with Nadir Pasha. And I will
continue to exert my influence, in the hope of saving their lives,
though they must now be taken to Monastir. This is by the
general’s orders.”

“They shall not go,” vowed the count.

“They are my prisoners,” exclaimed Halim Bey.
come to Monastir.”

“Ah, if I could but fight, you dogs,” snarled Sandor. “I see
through the trick,” he added. “My brother lies. He desires our
death; he intends to have us both shot. That is what brought
him here—the dastardly spirit of revenge. Father, it is the
estate he is plotting for. With us out of the way, he hopes to
inherit everything.”

“It is false,” protested Otto, biting his lip. :

“It is true,’ cried Fulke, turning to his grandfather. “He has
us in his power—we shall both be shot. But first, I will tell
you all. Otto Daranyi and his servant, Serafine, twice attempted
my lifé in England, and once again at Salonika. And I believe
him to be my father’s murderer.” He pulled the seal ring from
his bosom and snapped the string. “Look! this was found by
my father’s body. A friend kept it all these years, hoping that
it would some day convict the assassin.”

“The family crest!” Count Rudolph muttered hoarsely, as he
took the ring and examined it. “Otto, can it be possible that

“How dared you come here!

“They must

» “T, sir? No— f

“The: evidence is black—it convicts you of a foul crime, Had
you killed him in, a fair ‘fight -

“T did not kill him ‘at all,” exclaimed Otto Daranyi, in a tone
of triumph. “I am innocent, and I can prove it. It is not my
ring; here is mine on my finger, as you see. That belongs to
my brother.”

“Tt did once,” shouted Sandor.
was lost—stolen
death. You scoundrel, do you dare accuse, me

“T do,” Otto calmly told him. “You are Captain Haldane’s
‘murderer. Deny it if you can!”

“By heavens, it is too much!” cried Sandor,
have slain my best friend!
you will not——”

“No, no!” vowed Fulke,-as he knelt by the couch and clasped
Sandor’s hand. “I will never believe that—never! Your brother
is the assassin.” ;
_ “Empty words!” sneered Otto.
that I am innocent—that Sandor is the guilty one? The ring is
i ae :

“He is incapable of such a crime,” thundered Count Rudolph,
“while you, from your birth, have ever been a——”

“Yes, I admit that. But it
from me years ago, before poor Haldane’s

”?

é C “That I should
It is a foul lie. My boy, surely

“Enough!” Halim Bey interrupted harshly. “Let us summon ‘

the soldiers, and take these dogs to Monastir.”
__ As he spoke, the report of a rifle rang on the still air, and the
next instant there was a deafening tumult .of shots and yells, of
horses galloping away and men shouting and hammering.
| “My comrades have arrived,” exclaiméd Sandor. “We are
s saved.” / : Pa
Otto and the Turk dashed from the room, but as quickly
_ reappeared, white arid terrified, followed by Beris Sarafoff and
eight or ten insurgents. ,The tables were completely turned,
Halint. Bey and his companion _begged for mercy, and. were
spared; and, an instant later, Dick Rokeby,’ coming into the
room at the heels of the party, there was an affecting meeting
between the two lads. They gripped hands, speechless at first
_ with emotion. rS§

_. “Thank Heaven!” said Fulke.

”

“I never expected to 'see you

—

“Well, here I am, old fellow,” replied Rokeby. “I escaped by
the skin of my teeth—rolled off the path into some bushes, hid

9

“Father, you cannot doubt ©

Sandor?

 

 

WEEKLY.

among the rocks for a time, and got clean away. I pushed on
till morning, and then fell in with these chaps, who brought me
here. We killed half of the Turks, and the others fled.” :

“They will come back,” exclaimed Count Rudolph. “They
will fetch a larger force from Monastir.”

“No doubt of that, sir,” declared Sarafoff. | “You are all in!
peril—you, and your son, and the two lads. You must be off
at once. We will escort you toa safe place among the moun,
tains, whence you- can leisurely proceed across the Bulgarian
frontier. Be quick, comrades. Pull Gown those curtains and
make a hammock for Captain Sandor

He was interrupted by a shout of rage. One of the insur-
gents, an elderly, grizzled man, was shaking his fist at Otto
Daranyi. : ;

“IT know you,” he cried. “I was with the brave Englishman,
Captain Haldane, when he was murdered ten years ago. And
you killed him, dog—I saw you stab him in the back as I lay
wounded by your bullet. I recognized you then, and I have been
waiting and longing for this day. You shall not get away from
me now. The Englishman was my friend—he fought. for liberty
with us—and I swore to avenge his death.”

“It is false,” stammered Otto, who was the picture of fear
and guilt. “You are mistaken. It was not I who killed him.”,

“Vou lie!’ and the accuser reached to his belt. “Your face is
stamped on my mind.”

Otto Daranyi turned, bent on escape, and dashed to the open
window. He was half out, scrambling over the sill, when the
insurgent overtook and seized him. They struggled desperately
for a moment, and then, before any could interfere, both lost
their balance and plunged headlong into space. There was a
stifled shriek, a dull crash, and in the silence that followed all
ran to the window. It had a sheer drop of forty feet, and at ~
the base of the wall, on a heap of jagged rocks, lay the mangled ©
and lifeless bodies of Otto Daranyi and his foe: .

“They are dead!’ Count Rudolph cried bitterly.
judgment of Heaven on my wicked son.” °

“He slew my father,” muttered Fulke, “and he deserved his.
fate. But I am sorry for the other man.”

“Come,” said Sarafoff, turning away.
bury them. We must be off to the hills.”

°

c * * * * * * k

“Itias“the

“There is no time to

Having released Halim Bey—the count interceded for his life
and freedom—the whole party set off to the north, carrying
Captain Sandor and his father with as little discomfort as pos-
sible. Sarafoff turned back the same evening, but the escort
kept on with the rest. :

Three days later, as the sinking sun was gilding the: peaks of
the Balkans, the fugitives crossed the Bulgarian frontier. Be-
fore them was hope and freedom, immunity from the terrible’
Turks; behind lay distant Monastir, and perils happily escaped,
and a land ravaged by fire and sword. :

“Well, that’s done and over with,” said Rokeby, “and we are
jolly well out of it. Good-by to Macedonia, since it must be so.
T shall return to New York*and write my adventures fér the
Million.” ‘

“Pm for home and England,” vowed Fulke. “| mean to be a
soldier—that is the only life for me.” \

“T will go with you, for a time at least,” declared Count
Rudolph, who seemed; to be ten years younger. “You shall have
your heart’s desire, my boy, if money can buy it. And you,
: Have you not had enough of fighting?” Ligh

Captain Sandor pointed to the south, «

“There lies my! duty,” he replied, “and it will call me back
when my wound is healed and | am able to march. But may the
day speedily come when the Turkish rule be ended and [ can
sheath my sword in a free Macedonia.’ 4

They passed on, descending the rugged mountain trail, and
the purple mists of the evening rose out of the valley and hid
them from sight. e :

Ks THE END,

4 /
— “o*

Lf a

AN EQUAL HANDICAP. f Hts
‘The ‘following anecdote recorded by Sir Walter Scott,
the great English novelist, from the letter of a friend,
while proving the kindly nature of Lord Nelson, the

famous English admiral, is interesting from the allusion

made by him to his old fishing days.
“I was,” says the correspondent, “at the Naval Hospi-

 
isa Las

‘man he had something kind and
length he stopped opposite a bed on which a sailor was

 

na bocce twenty, to the casual OSE Wits

TIP TOP WEEKLY.

tal at Yarmouth, England, on the morning when Nelson,
after the battle of Copenh 1agen—having sent the woundec
before him-~arrived at the Roads and landed on the
jetty. The populate soon surrounded him, and the mili-
tary were drawn He in the market place ready to receive
him; but, making his way through the crowd, he went
straight to the hospital. I went round the wards with
him, “and was much interested in observing his demeanor
to the sailors. He stopped at every bed, and to every
cheering to say. At

lying who had lost his right arm close to the shoulder
joint, and the following dialogue passed between them:
“Nelson: ‘Well, Jack, what's the matter with you?’
“Sailor: ‘Lost my right arm, your honor.’
“Nelson paused, looked down at his own empty sleeve,
then at the sailor, and said playfully: ‘Well, Jack, then
you and I are spoiled for fishermen. Cheer up, my brave

- fellow! cs
—_— p> 00

THE MOCCASIN LODE.

By LOUIS JOSEPH VANCE.

e i, PRP BER i
- THE HEART OF MR, STURGIS.
Dick Sturgis was tired—‘‘our Mr, Sturgis,’ as Hillis,

head of the banking and brokerage house of Hillis,

Briggs & Co., called him—Sturgis, “‘the youngest trader
on the floor for his years,” was very, very tired,

‘This was at four o’clock in the afternoon,

The business of the day was over; the rattle-tattle of
‘the ticker in the corner had ceased; the outer office was
destitute of the throng of customers which had crowded

it not sixty minutes gone; the books were already bal-

anced, already sdme of the older clerks were muffling
themselves against the journey home—for the day had

been a “soft” one on ‘Change—and there was positively

_ nothing at all to keep Sturgis at his desk.
Yet he lingered, too weary to move, teetering in his
cushioned office chair before the neat and orderly desk,

: above which swung the electric bulb in ¢s green skirt.

His hands were in his pockets, despondently jingling
his keys, his chin rested on his chest, his keen eyes stared,
heavily lidded and languid, out into that crevasse called

ae Wall Street, wherein a chill, empurpled dusk was then
_ massing its shadows.

-. Sturgis frowned, which was unusual, and many fine,
deep lines webbed about his eyes. (

Once or twice he grunted uneasily, and put his left

hand upon his side, in the neighbrohood of his fifth rib;

where he permitted it to remain for a time, while his

lips moved noiselessly, but as if counting. 3

“Blasted nuisance!” he muttered, after doing this once;
‘the second time he swore unhappily.

‘Sturgis was tired—which annoyed him, for ah was

a accustomed to the sensation ; and tHiere was some-

thing queer going on beneath that fifth left rib—which
troubled him still more, for he was used to regard himself
as one of the healthiest men in the world, if not the most

active, in the Street.

He was not yet thirty years of age; he did not at pres-

ent Jook much more than twenty-five.

f he had been feeling well and sound he would not
For Sturgis

“voice, calm and dignified:

had a boyish, irrespensible, go-so-thunder way about him
that generally appertains unto youth only; adding to
which was his personal appearance; he was slight of
form, springy of step, roving of eye, and with cheeks
always so ce pe shaven that one almost fancied
an adolescent down bloomed thereupon.

But the life of a room trader is a wearing one; the man
who spends five hours per diem in the hardest kind of
athletic exercise, all that time spurring his brain to its
highest of intellectual effort, can’t be blamed for feel-
ing somewhat fagged after a few years of the life.

Still, he was young, and had what he was pleased to
term an.iron constitution. He was in receipt of an in-
come called handsome, and had no one dependent upon
him—tnmarried, to his sincere regret. Sturgis had been
thinking of getting married for some years now, but

“Heigh-o!” yawned Sturgis, rocking on the springs
of the desk chair.

He cast a swift glance at a framed photograph which
stood upon the blotting pad on the desk—and looked
away hopelessly. He wished that he might summon up
energy enough to get out and go home; he had a ¢all he
wanted to make that night, and

The clock in the corner opposite the diclebr chimed
a quarter past four. Simultaneously the door opened,
and Danny, the red-headed office boy, rushed in, grinning,
breathless.

“Say, Mister Sturgis,’ he gasped, his eyes shining with ~
excitement, “dey’s a bunch of loidies outside wot wants ~
t’see, youse.”’

Sturgis was upon his feet before the boy had finished.

“Eh?” he snapped, dismayed. “What? What did you
say? A bunch? How many? Ladies
they ?”

The boy’s impish grin broadened. bia tet

“A brace, sir,” he replied, “two of ’em. An’, say, de”
goil’s a peach, on de level!”

He ducked, counting on Sturgis’ well-known good na- |
ture, and vanished. A second later Sturgis heard his |

“Dis way, loidies? Mister Sturgis will see youse im- r
mejit.” xe

Sturgis was awaré of the sound of swishing silken
skitts and the sudden apparition in his private office of ;

a gracious presence—her presence—with her mamma in |

tow. He was conscious that he stammered og 0a

inanities, in his overwhelmed surprise:

“Why, Mrs. -Chardon—Grace—Miss Chardon, I mean —
—er—that is Well, this is pleasure—— ‘Ohy not
at all, I assure you—after business hours—entirely at
your service. Won’t you be seated?” and so forth. ~

And all the while he was tingling from head to foot, —
thrilled by the glance she had given him, striving vainly —
to distract his deferential attention from: her mother,
Mrs. Chardon, to feast his eyes and soul and heart and

being with the charm of her—of Grace.

But after a while he subdued himself, and, having otek
vided chairs for both his callers, subsided—outwardly s
calm—into his own,

“And you wished to see me on business, you say, Mrs

Chardon?’ Indeed, I should be, Pleased to be of service.

And how may I do so?”

Both women were in, niourning, ‘Mr: rs, Chasaue setae
elaborately so, the girl less obtrusively gowned; the father
and hus band whom they mourned was some months de:

The daughter settled back in her chair, ie bins he

 

Who are | cay
Pie

muff as she listened to the conversation between her
mother and Sturgis.

Time had smoothed from her countenance the traces of
grief. She fairly sparkled with animation and interest;
her color was not only good, it was better—perfect.

As to her eyes, they were large and dark—and——
The most fervent praise that Sturgis would have given
her beauty would prove unexaggerated; and—Sturgis
loved her.

Her mother, Mrs. Chardon, was inclined to be large—
a little too large, too excessive in every way; too florid,
too nervous, too fussy—in a word, wearing.

At present she was quite too agitated to be coherent.
She snipped her words and sentences, tripping over her
tongue in her desire to express each individual thought
at one and the same time.

She blundered on, Sturgis paying the strictest, most re-
spectful attention; but he was grateful for the occasional

_ explanatory. word which the girl would interject when
her mother paused, helplessly entangled.

It seemed—devoided of Mrs. Chardon’s ejaculations
—that they had just come from their’ lawyer’s.

A final accounting of the late Mr. Chardon’s estate
had been the lure that drew them there.

It was very terrible. It seemed that they were left
penniless. Upon correction by Grace it appeared th: it they
had an income, comfortable but not opulent. But the
great fortune that had been credited to Mr. Chardon

had vanished—if it had ever existed.

Mr. Chardon ‘had been a reckless man, financially. In
his later years he had engaged in many unusual specu-
lations.

He ‘had promoted companies—and lost money; he had
backed this and that—and lost money; ev erything had
been most involved at the time of his death.

And now that it was all straightened out, his wife and
daughter were beggars. Upon. Grace’s second correc-
tion, it was admitted, that it was not quite as bad as that;
they could live—in a way.

AOR WER ¥.

‘

Grace shook her head impatiently.
Sturgis’ face.

“Dick hasn’t said so, mamma,

“But—
hemently.

“Really, Mrs. Chardon,” Sturgis explained, “I’m not
at all sure. As a matter of fact, I can’t say that I have
ever heard of the Moccasin Mine. 3ut if you wish me
to, Ill look it up to-morrow and report to you. It is
very possible

And so he soothed her—with possibilities.

In his own mind the thing was already settled: the
shares were worthless; the high- sounding title of the
pseudo corporation was but that of one of “the numerous
concerns which are continually being formed for the sole
purpose of inducing, the public to invest its. money for
the development of properties as valueless as the promises
of promoters.

He suggested that he keep the securities in the office
safe, giving Mrs. Chardon a receipt therefor, and that
he should on the morrow look into the case and see how
best they might be disposed of. This was agreed to.

As the two women took their departure, Sturgis maneu-
vered so as to detain Grace for a moment by the door.

Her hand .was resting upon the knob; Sturgis boldly
closed his own above it; no one was w atching® ;

And the girl did not resent his aud: acity.

“T intend to call to-night,” said Sturgis, gazing into
her eyes; “but pet rhaps, since I’ve business to repart upon
to-morrow ; \

“We were going out this evening, anyway,” she in-
terposed.

“So [ll call to-morrow?

aC

And the heart of Mr. Sturgis leaped as he released
her hand and ushered her into the hall.

But twenty minutes later, when, with
his overcoat pockets and: the boll of that garment turned
up to his ears, Sturgis battled with a ruthless wind that

She was watching

” she suggested.
Mrs. Chardon began to expostulate ve-

May I? I will!”

But—and this ~was that concerning which Mrs. Ch 1ardon® tore down Wall Street, he was fain to stop and cling to a

it had developed that Mr. Char-

desired Sturgis’ advice
a certain stocks—

don was a large, a very large holder
Bone stocks. Re
They might be very valuable. Possibly Mr. Sturgis
i gotild advise them as to the value of the securities?
He inquired the name of the company.
It was something Indian, or Mexican, or Aztec. But
- Mrs. Chardon had the certificates in her hand bag. Grace,
her glasses! Now, they should be here, or here—no,
_ there. Oh, here they were! And Mrs. Chardon handed
Sturgis a bulky envelope.
He opened it, extracting a thick bunch of elaborately
engraved certificates of stock—very impressive in their
gaudy dresses of green ink and gold.
: Sturgis spread them, out on his desk, flat. He puck-
Seiad up his brows, pursing his lips.
“<The Moccasin Gold Mining and Development Co.,
of Phoenix, Arizona,’ ” he read aléud, and paused.
‘And are they of value?’ demanded Mrs. Chardon.
- But Sturgis was counting the sheets rapidly ; he did not
em until he had finished,
0 Three hundred thousdnd shares, par value five dol-
jars per share,” he announced, looking up. ‘“That figures
-a million and a half ——
we are rich!”

we’ Then | Mrs. eens flounced ache

basement railing at the corner of Broadway.

The cold nipped deep; his breath congec led upon hie
upper lip; ‘the wind jerked and tugged angrily at his hat
and at the tails of his overcoat. But of these fo

was unconscious.

For a minute or two he could comprehend nothing save
that empty feeling, that “all-gonéness” where his heart
should be.

“Oh, what the dickens!” cried Sturgis, when he had
recovered and was cutting across Broadway to the Em-/
pire Building and the éley ated station. “This won’t do
at all, you HOW: I really believe I'll have to see a
doctor !” . :

¥ CHAPTER II.

A BID FOR MOCCASIN.

And he did—Sturgis, who had not consulted a phy si-
cian for years!

After dinner that night he bundled himself up and tale:
a cab to’ the house of a doctor he knew. For the first
time in his life Sturgis did not feel np to walking a mat-
ter of ten blocks—half a rile ont an inspiringly brisk
winter’s evening.

“Hello!” his friend greeted him. “Sturgis !
hanged if ever I expected to get a fee from you.
the trouble?” _

his hands in‘

2

Tl be
Whee Ss »

 

 

 

4

 

 
| fight again, in short.

TIF LOY

“Heart,” said Sturgis laconically, sitting down"

The physician smiled.

“Love affair?’ he suggested, as if incredulous of any-
thing else.

“Well—yes.”
didn’t mind making a confidant of him,
gree. ;

“Unhappy : ? Won't have you?

“Not exactly—just in the air, that’s all.”

“Keeps you oe eh? Here, unbutton your waist-
coat aid let me tackle you with a stethoscope. Um-m-m!
~ What have you been doing ? Overworking? All day in
the Street and all night rouge-et-noir? Burning the can-
dle at both ends? Craving excitement m,

“No,” Sturgis interrupted gravely. “I’m a pretty good
little boy. 1 keep quite moral hours, to tell the truth.
But I attend to my business. What’s the matter with
me—anything serious?”

“Nothing much,” the physician reassured him. ‘“Noth-
ing organic. You're just worn out with overwork. Let's
see—you're on the floor, all day, are you not? That ex-
plains it. You'll have to stop—take a rest.”

“How long?’ queried Sturgis gloomily.

“A: month or two\or six or seven; until you are all
You need a change of air and in-
terest. Your heart is simply tired from overstraining
to keep up with your will. Find something else to do for
a while—travel—lay yourself out to win that girl. To
¥ accomplish that last would do“you more good than any-
thing else.”’

“Believe you're right,” agreed Sturgis soberly,

He talked it over with Hillis the next morning, seek-
ing counsel. ‘"

It happened that he had wakened refreshed by an
undisturbed sleep, feeling very well. indeed ;\and he was
correspondingly inclined to pooh-pooh the physician’s
‘advice.

But Hillis was possessed of sound’ common sense, and
prevailed upon the junior partner in the firm.

“I'll take the floor end of the business myself,” he
assured him. “The house interests won't suffer. I think
the change will benefit me, personally, anyway. You go
on and enjoy yourself until you’re quite recovered. Can’t
afford to have anything happen to you, you know, old
man.” pred ‘

After a while Sturgis gave in.

“Well, if you insist, Hillis. It’s mighty good of you.
Til wind up my business here, and clear out this evening.’

“You'll do it this morning, young man.
-on the floor this day. Make your mind easy; you're
indispensable, all right, but we’il\try to get along with-
out you.’ . .

Hillis laughed, Sturgis joined, somewhat hollowly.
. Really, he told himself, he didn’t know what to do with

his time. |
He sat disconsolate in his private office and eer
holes in his blotter with his pen.

“J feel like a loose tooth—no US@ just a bother,” Nee
grumbled. \

- He thought of a lot of things -he had always wanted
to accomplish, lacking the time; but now that he had
leisure, none of them seemed attractive.

It Was very unpleasant. And then he remembered

he case of the Moccasin Gold. Mining and Development

Sturgis knew the man pretty well, and
to a slight de-

You don’t go si

WEEKLY: 25
| Why, yes!” he exclaimed.
do!’

Hillis, Briggs & a o., being a reputable firm, had noth-
ing to do with cheap mining stocks. Sturgis was there-
fore unable to get any information concerning Moccasin
in the office.

He detailed one of the clerks to look it up, and himself
put in the rest of the morning loafing. a

That is to say, he loitered about the Street, telling his
acquaintances that he had one foot in the grave and laugh-
ing at their consternation; and later, feeling more high-
spirited, went over, to the Exchange and made faces at
Hillis, who was frantic and perspiring because steel was
tumbling down the ladder and many of the firm’s cus-
tomers were “long of steel!” and preferred to sell rather
than advance more margins.

In the course of the afternoon, he received the clerk’s
report: Moccasin was not listed on any of the mining ex-
changes, so far as might be ascertained. Result—nil.

Nevertheless, Sturgis felt better.

He ran in to see Bowen, Mrs. Chardon’s lawyer, but
Bowen knew nothing of Mogeasin, save that it had been
among the nominal “assets’ of the dead promoter’s
estate.

“Mr. Chardon’s affairs were in an absolutely chaotic
condition, at the time of his death,” said Bowen. “The
man had evidently engaged in any number of specu-
lations, trusting entirely to his memory to keep track
of them. Dare say there area dozen concerns indebted
to him that we'll never hear of. Take this ‘Moccasin,’
for instance. I’ve a hunch*that the stock may be worth
sorhething:

“You can guess again,’ said Sturgis, laughing. “It’s
not listed anywhere that I can find, and the changes are
that it’s worth—just that!” He flicked the ash from his
cigar. ,

Bowen arose from his chair and walked to the window,
shaking his head argumentatively.

oe Hones you're wrong,’ he said, at length. “It’s going
to go pretty hard with “those two women, if Moccasin is
valueless. They’ve been brought up in the lap of luxury,
so to speak ¢

“But I understoodgfrom Miss ihe dels that they had a
comfortable income left,” Sturgis interposed.

“Not at the rate of living they’re accustomed to,”
disagreed Bowen. “Inside of a year they'll be drawing
on their principal, if they don’t cut down expenses pretty
generally.”

Outside Bowen’s office:

“The deuce!” cried Sturgis petulantly. “It looks as
if Moccasin -had just ngturally got to be. worth some-
thing!”

“That'll be something to

After a moment’s considering, he walked up to Park /
Row and entered one of the newspaper offices, where he.

had an acquaintance.
He obtained permission to look over the files for a

couple of years back, and settled himself at a table with.
a comfortable conviction that he would know something
For this particu-

more about Moccasin before he arose.
lar journal was one which refused no paying advertise-
ments, be they reputable or dubious; and therefore its
pages were favored with a larger amount of the business

of questionable financial concerns nan those of any other

publication in the city.
TO BE CONTINUED,

Ape

<

=

e : a ay . > 9 = be 2
Fis 2 le A tip RLS REP ES I ct ta nt tea Ci ie a ses Se BL as 3

pRpeakks

 
Tip LOR WEEKDY.

NEWS ITEMS OF INTEREST

Need Another Shipload of “Maine” Relics.

So. numerous and insistent are the de-

mands ®pon the navy department for relics |

of the battleship Maine that it has been
-found necessary to send for another ship-
load, in addition to the collection brought
to Washington recently on the collier
Leonidas. The board ch varged with the
distribution of the relics is having diffi-
culty in complying with the many requests
from municipalities and patriotic societies,
for the reason that little of the material
collected is of a nature to lend itself read-
ily to monumental purpose§.

, Oil on Troubled Ducks,

Officer Hennessy, of the San Francisco
Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to
Animals, was roused by a feminine voice
at the telephone notifying him that a num-
ber of wild ducks had become “stuck in
the mud” on King’s Highway, the main
beach boulevard.

Hennessy went to the rescue and fondd
the ducks in a peculiar plight. The boule-
vard had been fteshly oiled, and when the
ducks had. settled upon it their ‘feathers
became covered with oil, and so stuck to-
gether that they could not use their wings.

Hennessy picked up a bird at a time,
wiped it off carefully and tossed it into the
air, where it flew oft with honks of thanks-
giving.

Oldest Man in hosed.

' The oldest mam in the United States, the
census bureau discovers and publishes, is
an Indian negro of Grand Junction, Col,
_ known as Cherokee Bill. His age is given
as 114.' He was born ‘one year before
Washington was appointed commander in
chief for the apparently inevitable war with
France, at the beginning of the administra-
tion of John Adams. He was eighteen
years old when Waterloo was fought, and
a gnan of twenty-three when George *.
gave place to George IV. He now @h-
nounces that, having .completed a round
Senttiry of labor, he intends to retire,
The one regret of the old man is that
he has not quite succeeded in laying aside
$1,000 for each year of the one hundred
‘of his active occupation, for not until he
had reached the age,of ninety-nine did he
“strike it rich.” Then he found paying
ore and gravel at Leadville and Cripple
Creek, and along the Grand River,,and in
Re - fifteen years he has laid aside three hun-
_ dred pounds of gold, valued at $80,000.

i

To Make a Forty-ninth States

_ Two bills preparing the way for the for-
‘mation of a new State of Manhattan, to
embrace Greater, New York and neighbor-
ing, counties, were introduced in the State
isi at Albany, having been intro-

y one of the New York assembly-
men. The bills are said to have strong
support on. the Democrati¢ side.’ .

rofotmed to Stop Her Laughter. Ny

roform was necessary to stop Mrs.
of Ames, Iowa, anes over her
for nes an ee ata

a cir cus.

 

te

She is slowly recovering from the laughing
spell.

lhe mother had been laughing two hours
when medical aid was summoned and chlo-
roform administered. Members of the fam-
ily and friends ceased their laughing only
when they learned of the serious nature
of the mother’s case.

New Stats in the Flag,

An official order for changing the stars
of the national ensign and the Union Jack
in use by the navy to show the addition of
two new States to the Union was issued by
the navy department.

The change, which takes effect July 4,

 

provides for forty-eight stars to be ar-
ranged in six rows of eight stars each,
| with the corresponding stars of each row
jin a vertical line. This arrangement is the
one recommended by the joint board of the
army and navy, and approved by President
Ee ak

Reproducing a Cave.

One of the most unique exhibits ever
placed in a museum is being installed in
the Carnegie Museum at Pittsburg, Pa,

It is a replica of a remarkable cave dis-
covered recently near Naginey, Mifflin
County, Pa. Thousands of beautiful stal-
agmites and stalactites. from oe cavern
have been carefully removed and will be
placed in the replica in the museum. Parts J
of the original roof and sides of the cave}
and much of the peculiar rock formation
of the*floor, will also be put in place. When
the work is completed, one of the most
beautiful sights to be found in any museum
in the land will be presented: to the public.

Laws to End law's Delay.

State Senator L. M. Black, of’ Brooklyn,
New York, who is seeking to bring about
af legislative investigation of the law’s de-
lay in the legislature, at Albany, and who
has been asking opinions from various ju-
rists throughout the State; received a letter
from Justice Howard, of the supreme court,
who says:

“There are too many laws, too maty
courts, too many people, too many techni-
calities, Nobody knows the law, nobody
can know the law. In these days a human
mind cannot comprehend such a mass of
stuff. And its bulk is increasing at an ap-
palling rate. Judges, governors, and legis-|
lators are working at feverish pace ma-
king law books: Thousands of thick vol-
umes constitute the written law. A dozen
volumes ought to contain all the laws of
the State.

“Fivé appellate courts are in session at
the same time in ‘this, State, rendering deci-
sions and writing opinions, necessarily and
in fact, in conflict with each other. One

 

of the people; the next legislature’ repeals |
ho governor. advocates the passage of a
law, and then in a few \months urges its
repeal. Under stich cont litions, who can
know thé law? |

“The law should: be. ‘evi Sn positive: it
has* ‘come to be like quicksand, and slips

performance

legislature makes a law for the guidance ie

 

 

faster t ae aa can pce ee at tS) his

uncertainty of the law propagates litiga-
tion; it breeds lawsuits. Its havoc
the t taxpay ers is frightful. In a large per-
centage of cases it costs the public more to
foot the bills of the litigation than it would
to pay the claim in dispute.
“An old maxim says:
presumed to know the law,’
surd the saying is now. Nobody can know
a mass so discordant. The citizens cannot —
know the law, the lawyers cannot compre-
hend the law, the judges cannot interpret
the law., The Roman maxim might» be
modified so as to run ‘Ignorance of the
law excuses no one—except the judges.’

Wpol

‘Every man is .
But how ab-

Bernhardt in Moving Pictures,

“T have conquered a new world—that ue
the photo play,’ writes Sarah Bernhardt
to W. F, pare her American manager,
apropos of her playing “Camille” before

the camera of the /rench-American Film | ~

Company. “I never thought, my dear Wil-

,pue

#4

liam, that I would ever be a film, but now *

that I am two whole reels of. pictures, I
rely for my immortality upon these rece
ords. .

Under the management of Mr. Connsese
Bernhardt played to over $3,000,006 in this»
country in two tours, and proved herself
the greatest box-office attraction that the
stage has ever known. She was repeatedly
asked while in ,this country to pose for.
moving pictures, but always ‘refused, hence
it was a great surprise to Connor to hear ©
that she had capitulated to the camera. ©

It took a great deal of persuasion and _
$30,000 in money to induce Bernhardt to’
play “Camille” before the camera, but when j
she finally made up her mind ghe entered
into the arrangement withthe enthusiasm —
of a ‘schoolgirl. She visited
ture shows in all parts of Paris, spent
hours in studios and talked with operators
and actors. In a short whilé she was an
encyclopedia. of information about. the new
art.

“Camille” was rehearsed a few times
with the watch to get it timed right, and.
then, on a set date, Bernhardt and het pow-
erful company went right. through ° the |
before the motion-picture
camera. She played with wonderful fire
and expressiveriess. Great genius that she
is, she suited, herself to her medium, and
the result is a long series of photographs
that are staccato in eee _expressivenes
The story is revealed as plain as print.

“Camille” was never more pitifully’ élo
quent than in this dumb record. Bern-
hardt could hardly Wait to sée an exhibi
tion of the ‘pictures in ‘the studio. Whe
the operator started and the photo play: be
gan’ to transpire upon the screen, she was
almost hysterical with excitement,

#eing the two reels she insisted that;
be run off Agsiny and this was Be ei

San Francisco’ is to have the Aries at
letic field in the world in Golden’ Gat
Around the entire track, which will’
laps to the mile, there will be’a on
curb three inches’ high, There’ w
straightaways, one of one Pees.

motion-pic-— Tah

 
i.

ai \

. lies.

™

sixty yards along the east side of) the field
and the other will start and finish in front
of the grand stand, being three hundred
yards long.

A special feature will be the markings
for handicaps. This will be done with
brass figures, which will be sunk into the
concrete curbing all the way around the
track and also down both straightaways.
For the hurdle races the‘location of each
hurdle will be marked in a similar man-
ner, and the take-offs for the relay teams
will also be embodied in the curb.
\Special pits have been provided for the
high jumpers, broad jumpers, and pole
vaulters, while circles are marked out for
the weight men. The Olympic trials may
be held there in June next.

Conditions in Southern Cotton Mills,

As sordid and tragic a tale of the pov-
erty of labor as was ever told in a gov-
ernment publication is unfolded in the re-
port on the standard of living among
Southern cotton-mill workers, recently is-
sued by the United States Bureau of La-
‘bor at Washington. Government investi-
gators selected twenty-one typical Southern
cotton-mill families and’ studied their in-
comes and expenditures in detail for the
year 1908. In almost evéry case these con-
ditions were found:

The father and two or three of the older
children work in the mill, yet the total an-
nual income of the family breadwinners
often was less than $1,000 a year.

The account at the company store run-
ning steadily above the family income. At
the end:of the year a debt, which is met by
an appeal to a loan shark.

To meet. the added demand of interest
and principal for the debt, another child is
sent to work, and so on “until the trapped
family has sent all its children into the
maw of the mill.”

Gprnbread, biscuit, pork, and coffee form
~a large part of the diet of all of the fami-
Pork means fat pork, salted, contain-
ing very little lean. Over ninety-one per
cent of all operatives live in company-
owned houses.

Measles, malarial fever, typhoid, pneu-

-‘monia, skin diseases, and tuberculosis are

_ prevalent.

The people generally prescribe
for their own ills and are burdened with
patent medicines and cure-alls.

From their small incomes the mill work-
ers pay surprisingly large sums to burial

associations, being willing to undergo the
_ greatest sacrifice in food and clothing to
save themselves the disgrace of burial in

the potter’s field. Almost every | family

was able to spare from their pinching ne-

cessities the mites for church or charity.

_ One very poor family gave nearly ten per

cent of its income. {

British Soldiets to Have Aviation School. |
The estimates of expenditure for ‘the
British army for the financial year of 1912-
13; including both effective and noneffec-
tive services, aggregate $130,306,000, or an

increase of $850,000 over those of the year
 IQUI-12.

__. The entire increase in the estimates is due
_ to the proposed expenditure by the gov-

ernment on the development of aviation in
the British army. In a memorandum ac-
companying the estimates Viscount’ Hal-
dane, secretary of state for war, says that

a complete military aviation school with a
11 complement of atroplanes and all the

thing for employers, also.

 

TAP “TOR: WEERLY,

workshops necessary to train thoroughly
officers of both the army and the navy will
be established at an early date on Salisbury
Plain, the great maneuvring ground of the
army in England.

The sum of $800,000 is to be expended
on the acquisition of aéroplanes alone.

First Mayor of Greatest Berlin.

Doctor Karl Steiniger, until recently city
chamberlain‘of Berlin, Germany, was elect-
ed mayor of Greater Berlin.

Doctor Steiniger’s election as first mayor
of Greater Berlin places him at the head of
the third greatest municipality in the
world, the only cities exceeding it in size
being London and New York. The popu-
lation of the city is nearly 3,500,000.

The combination of Berlin proper with
the suburban municipalities was brought
about after a long agitatiof. It was only
on May 16 last year that the Prussian Diet
adopted a bill for the formation of the
combined mynicipality.

Under the new form of government the
city council will have control over matters
of transportation, building plans, and the
acquisition of suburban lands for the pur-
pose of forming a‘ permanent forest and
meadow girdle around the city.

The municipal council is to consist of
one hundred members, about one-third of
whom are to be elected by the city itself,
and the remainder by the suburban dis-
tricts.

Doctor Steiniger was selected from a list
of thirty candidates, comprising state and
city officials, educators, merchants, and
leading industrial men,

Panama President Economizes,

Acting President Rodolfo Chiari is in-
troducing economies in the administration
of affairs of Panama which are expected
to reduce the expenditure more than $600,-
000 yearly.

Orders have been issued for the reduc-
tion of the consular service. Hereafter
there will be only five consuls general at
New York, New Orleans, Liverpool, Ham-
burg, and Jamaica. '

A Plan for More Holidays,

A writer in the Survey proposes’ tlfat
seientific management be applied to holi-
days. He points out that of the nine legal
holidays generally observed in this coun-
try, four come within nine weeks of each
other in midwinter when they are of: least
value, because of weather preventing trips
and outdoor sports.

These four are Christntas, New Year's,
Lincoln’s, and Washington’s birthdays. In
summer, when holidays mean most, the
long hot spell from Decoration Day on
May 30 to Labor Day in September, ig un-
broken except for the Fourth of July,

This writer wants all holidays to fall on
Monday. That would give the workers—
which means practically all the’ people in
country, he says—two days or two and a
half days free, which is almost as good as
a vacation. He believes it would be a good
A holiday fall-
ing in the middle of the week breaks up the
week’s work, and often seriously handicaps
the employer in getting out his work.

Queen Mary an Art Collector,
Queen Mary has presented to the Indian
section of the Victoria and Albert Museum,
in London, England, a series of examples

27

of Hindu and Tibetan industrial art of
considerable beauty and interest.

The most important item is the toilet
tray of a Moghul princess. It is of rock
crystal, exquisitely carved and drilled with
repetitions of a flowering plant. This tray
was made in Delhi, India, during the six-
teenth or seventeenth century, and was evi-
dently: the work of one of the celebrated
jewelers attached either to the ‘court of
Akbar the Great or that of one’ of his.im-
mediate successors.

Two silver-gilt and enamel perfume
boxes, made in Lucknow, India, during
the seventeenth century, and formerly the
property of the last king of Oudh—a box
to hold writing materials—of carved ivory
are notable specimens of Indian art.

Great Contest of Motor Boats.

A challenge from the Royal Motor Club
of England, for the Harmsworth Interna-
tional Cup, which American boats won suc-
cessively for four years, was accepted by
the Motor Boat Club of America. Satur-
day, August 31, was the date set for the
first race. ,The second race will be held on
Labor Day, September 2, but no date was
set for the possibly necessary third race.

Half a dozen boats designed as defenders
are being built in America, all expected to
excel the wonderful Divrie IV., which tri-
umphed last year, and which was _ later
wrecked at Buffalo. It is planned to put
the old Divxie’s engines into a new hull. :

In addition to the English challenge it
was reported that there was a prospect of
the @French motor boat enthusiasts being
included as participants in the contest this
year. It is hoped, also, to hold the races
in the Hudson River, where they might be
seen by thousands, but definite adoption of
the plan was deferred because it will first
be necessary to take some measures to elim-
inate the driftwood which constitutes @
menace in the river.

Yale to Row With English Stroke.

That. English methods of rowing are to.
figure to some extent in the training of the
Yale crew this segson, is believed to be in-
dicated by a trip which William Averill
Harriman, son of the late E. H. Harriman,
and coach of the Yale freshrhan crew, is
making to England. Harriman will spend —
three weeks at Oxford and Cambridge uni-
versities about the time of the annual re-—
gatta of those universities.

It is believed that the trip is being made
for the purpose of studying the English
stroke with a view to its adaptation to °
Yale needs. .

Jobs for Boys Who Don’t Smoke, | ©

To get jobs for office boys who don’t
smoke, the Anticigarette League of Amer-
ica has opened an employment agency in
the Metropolitan Temple, New York City:

Every boy who has applied there ¢and .
who vhas signed a pledge not to drink or-
smoke has been put into a position.

The demand exceeds the supply, accord-
ing to the Reverend Manfred P. Welcher,
field secretary of the league.

Baseball Pitcher in an Aetoplane. .
Elmer Zacher and Izzy Hoffman, Oak-.
land ball players, tried to catch oranges
dropped from an aéroplane flying at an ale
titude of 550 feet, the height of the Wash- |
ington Monument. Neither succeeded. tg

 

' Lincoln Beachey, the aviator, then
1 aR a ee

 
28

brought his craft down to within 300 feet
of the ground and tossed baseballs. to
Zacher. The ball player caught the second
ball.

Gteatest Auction Ever Held in Germany.

The most important art auction ever held
in Germany opened in the Lepke auction
rooms in Berlin, when the collection of old
masters belonging to the estate of the late
Edward F. Weber, a leading merchant of
Hamburg, was put up for sale.

Francois Fleinberger, the art dealer of
Paris, gave $147,500 for the “Virgin and
Child,” by Andrea Mantegna.

United States Buys Much of South Americans.

Foodstuffs and manufacturers’ raw mate-
tials are the principal classes of merchan-
dise imported into the United States from
South America, while manufactures make
up the bulk of the exports from the United
States to that continent.

Of the $15,000,000 worth of nitrate of
soda imported into the United States, prac-
tically all is from Chile. Brazilian coffee
supplies a large proportion of this staple
requirement of American breakfast tables,
from a half to three-quarter billion pounds
per annum coming from Brazil.

From Peru we import nearly 40,000,000
pounds of copper pigs, ingots, et cetera, and
from Chile about 15,000,000 pounds of cop-
per ore. About twenty-five per cent of our
imported ‘cocoa and cacao, crude, comes
from Brazil and Ecuador, their combined
total ranging between 25,000,000 and 30,-
000,000 pounds per annum, out of an ag-
gregate of from 100,000,000 to 120,000,000
from all countries.

Even cotton is imported to some extent
from Peru, about 4,000,000 potinds in the
year just ended and larger amounts in cer-
tain earlier years. Between 2,000,000 and
3,000,000 bunches of bananas are imported
into the United States from South America
annually, while practically all the $1,000,000
worth and upward of cream, or Brazil nuts
imported last year came from Brazil... Ar-
gehtina, Colombia, Urugyay, and Venezue-
la are important sources for imported cat-
tle hides; while goat and sheepskins are
imported from both Brazil and Argentina
in considerable quantities.

Between one-half and one-third of the
imported India rubber is from Brazil, that
country having furnished in 1910, 40,000,-,
000 out of total importation of 101,000,000
pounds. Our imported wool is largely
vdrawn from South America. Of the 40,-
000,000 pounds of clothing wool imported
in IQII, over 13,000,000 pounds were from
Argentina.

Baseball Stars Not Always Pennant Winners, |

‘land show.

‘The reserve clause may be needed to hold

the game of baseball intact, but its grip |

has worked roughly upon more than one
star player;“doomed to a second-division
life without a break.

Cobb and Wagner, Mathewson and
Walsh, Collins and Bender, Brown, Chance,
and Evers—these, with many others listed
above the mass, know what it means to feel
that their efforts have figured in a cham-
pionship fight.

But Nap Lajoie has averaged .365 for
fifteen campaigns and has yet to plant a
base hit which helped bring home the pen-
nant.

Walter Johuson has earned his ranking
as one of the game’s best, but the Idaho

 

 

TIP TOP WEEKLY.

wonder has yet to know what the “first-
division” feeling is or to hold ambition
above a seventh-place finish.

Hal Chase and Jake Daubert, the great-
est first basemen of the decade, have yet to
draw any thrill of pennant triumph.
Nap Rucker looms as the ‘greatest of all
left-handers now at work without having
curved a ball which ever figured in a first-
division windup.

The game breaks at its roughest for a
star ball player whose efforts are never al-
lowed to figure in any successful fight.
They may get the money, but they miss
the best part of the game.

It’s far easier work when there’s a goal
beyond to be reached. But when, year
after year, this goal fades out before June,
the drudgery and the routine of it bear
down with more than double its force.

Hawaiians in Swimming Contest.

Percy McGillvray, of the Illinois Ath-
letic Club, Chocago, won the #20-yard na-
tional championship swimming event, at
Pittsburg, Pa., under the auspices of the
Pittsburg Aquatic Club. Time, 2:34 1-5.
This victory assures McGillvray a place on
the Olympic team.

Much interest centered in the appearance
of two swimmers from Hawaii, Duke Ka-
hanamoku, of the Honolulu Swimming
Club, and his mate, Vincent Genoves, who
took part in the first heat of the race. Ka-
hanamoku started with terrific speed, but
was seized with cramps and was pulled
from the tank almost unconscious. Ge:
noves, his partner, was fifth.

Accustomed ‘only to salt water and
straightaway courses, the confinement of
an indoor pool worried the Hawaiians.

Chinese President is American Citizen.

Doctor Sun Yat Sen, first president of the
Chinese republic, is a naturalized Ameri-
can. The Department of Commerce and
Labor, at- Washington, so held in 1904 on
the ground that Doctor Sun, who had been
born.in the Hawaiian Islands, had been en-
dowed with American citizenship by the
act\of 1900, which provided a government
for Hawaii, and declared all citizens of the
territory to be citizens of the United
States.

“Bad Lands” ate Good Lands,

Believing that Cherokee County, Kan-
sas, has been put in a false light’ before
possible investors by being so constantly
referred to as the “bad lands” in connec-
tion with the law-enforcement campaign,
commercial organizations of Columbus,
Weir City, Scammon, Galena, Baxter
Springs, and Mineral joined together_ to
make a county exhibit at the: Kansas City

A good-sized appropriation was raised
for the purpose of putting on an exhibit
which would not only show the large grain
yields of Cherokee County soil, but also
mineral products to emphasize that the
thousands of men ‘employed in the mines
afford a good home market for what’ the
farmer raises.

A Plea for the Girl Wage Earners.

“Open your churches and your homes to
the working girls, and you will go a long
way toward helping them,” was an appeal
which a deputy factory inspector made, to
a large gathering in Brooklyn.

“I know just what these girls have to

And |}

 

contend with,” said the inspector. “I had
to work for several years at low wages and
I found it mighty hard. A girl has to en-
dure some disagreeable things, and hunger
is one of them. I have come in contact
with any number of girls who receive two
dollars and fifty cents to three dollars a
week, and have to live on it. Probably two
or three of them live together. They have
a small hall bedroom, not large enough for
a healthy person to turn around in.

“A cup of coffee and’rolls form their
breakfast, and they lunch downtown, They
pay about ten cents for lunch, and after
working hard all day they walk home be-
cause they can’t afford to ride on the street
car. Then they cook their supper and have
to go to bed, because they have no place to
go. They can’t afford to attend the thea-
ter and seldom a five-cent picture show.

“There isn’t a place for them to enjoy
recreation. They have no acquaintances or
friends to call upon, and have no chance
to make friends. If these same girls only
had some one to look after them, if they
could be talked to and invited into. your
church or allowed to spend a pleasant even-
ing in your homes, you would be doing
them a great kindness.”

Brave Sailor to be Rewarded by Congtess,

John Catherwood, a bluejacket with the
scars of eighteen bolo and spear wounds on
his body, and C. F. Godan, a cavalryman
who lost a leg in a skirmish with Moros,
were passengers on the transport Thomas
from the Philippines.

The sailor, who is to receive a congrés-
sional medal for gallantry, was a member
of a landing party of five that went ashore
to gather wood on the Island of Basilan,
They were attacked by natives, and Ensign
C. E. Hovey was slain. Catherwood, al-
though badly wounded, rallied his com-
panions and beat back the enemy.

Godan’s leg was ‘severed by a Bolo
hurled in the night by a native. scout on
the Island of Jolo. Several other men, in-
valided home because of wounds received
in the Moro uprising, were carried in the
ship’s sick bay.

t

Great Revival of Whaling,

The steamship Homer sailed from Seat-
tle, Washington, for Alaska with thirty
whalers, who will be landed at Port’ Arm-
strong, near Cape Ommaney, Baranof Is:
iand, where a big whaling station is about
to be constructed. A. trainload of boilets
and other equipment will be shipped north
on a later steamer. Three steel whaling
vessels for the company that is building the
station Were launched in Seattle.

A Norwegian company, which is to be
managed by Captain Otto Sverdrup, the
arctic explorer, is sending a fleet of steam
whalers from Europe. Many new Cana-
dian boats also will be employed during the
coming season.

Tulip Grower Finds Prison Tunnel in Paris,

A Dutch tulip grower who cultivates
the national flower in his garden in Paris,
France, near the Jardin des Plantes, was
digging his tulip beds when his spade
struck something hard, He scraped away
the earth and came upon a subterranean
tunnel, which led to the site of the ancient
prison of Sainte Pelagie, now demolished.

The opening of the tunnel came otit ex-
actly at the spot where'the cell of Blanqui,
the famous revolutionary of the Second

 
 

of Indiana.

 

Empire, was imprisoned, The discovery is
believed to explain Blanqui’s many absences
from prison, which were supposed to have
been arranged with the connivance of his
_ jailers.

A Retreat for Austrian Artists,

The Archduke Francis Ferdinand, the
Austrian heir-presumptive, has offered to
give the Villa d’Este at Tivoli, Italy, to the
Austrian state in order that it may be con-
verted into a home dor Austrian artists.
' The archduke inherited the villa and large
Italian estates from the last Duke of Mo-
dena, who belonged to the Italian branch
of the Hapsburg family. He has, how-
ever, never been able to use the villa and
has. only visited it once or twice incogrfito,
as, like the emperor, he cannot pay official
 yisits to Italy. The villa, with its magnifi-
cent park, was built in 650 by Cardinal Hip-
polite d’Este, and is well-known as the
subject of innumerable pictures and etch-
ings.
--It is not the intention of the archduke,
as was at first supposed, that the villa
should be used as an academy, like the
Villa Medici in Rome, where young art-
_- ists enjoying state scholarships might
study. For this purpose it is too far from
-Rome. ‘The proposal is that it should be
_kept as a retreat for Austrian painters, mu-
-sicians, and authors when engaged on some
important work for which quiet and free-
dom from care are necessary, or when re-
convalescent after an illness. Liszt com-
posed much of his music at the villa when’
ihe the residence of Cardinal Hohen-
‘lohe.

Navy to Protect Seals.
The navy this year, for the first time,
» will assist the revenue-cutter service in pa-
troling Pacific waters to prevent pelagic
sealing. This has been made neecssary by
the seal treaty signed by the United States,

~ Great Britain, Russia, and Japan.

The Pacific naval fleet will patrol from
San Francisco to Dixon’s Entrance, while
the revenue cutters will be assigned to the
Bering Sea. The duty of the naval vessels.
Jargely will be confined to protecting the
_ seals on their journey from the South to
_ Alaska early in the spring, and their return
' to Southern waters late in the fall. ~

New Japanese Ambassador Graduate of
American College.

Viscount .S. Chinda, the new Japanese
ambassador, arrived at Washington, D, C.,
accompanied by the Viscountess Chinda,
and a retinue of attendants. The new am-
bassador is a graduate of Depauw Univer-
sity, Indiana, and a fraternity mate as well
as classmate of former Senator Beveridge,
He was. ambassador to Ger-
- many when ordered here to succeed for-
mer Ambasador Uchida.

Chinese Biplanist in a Tumble.

- Tom Gunn, the San Francisco Chinese
aviator, had a narrow escape from death
ott the: meet, at Los Angeles, Cal., when
“his biplane fell from a height of 150 feet
and buried him beneath the wreckage.

_. Gunn had started on a flight around the
field when he lost control of his machine,
apparently through engine trouble. While
his. biplane pitched and rolled from the er-
ratic plunging of his engine, Gunn pluckily
to his seat and tried to glide to earth.
His rudder struck a high fence and he was

 

 

ITP TOP WEEKLY.

thrown beneath his splintered planes onto
the roof of a pumping station.

His most serious injury was a dislocated
jaw and a badly bruised head. No broken
bones were found.

World’s Champion One-armed Pool Player.

Frank Burns, of Pittsburg, champion
one-armed pool player of the world, de-
feated Tom Cunningham i1o0 to 80 in
an exhibition’ match at Seattle, Wash.
Burns showed: plenty of class working
around the bunch, picking off. shots that
seemed impossible. He also went out and
knocked off some long shots to show that
he had no weakness. His handling of the
cue ball was simply marvelous. He gave
a splendid exhibition of trick and fancy
shooting after the match.

Englishman Suddenly Becomes a Giant.

A case of “giants’ disease,” or acrome-
galy, is reported from Low Moor, Brad-
ford, England. The patient, Harry Faulk-
ner, a-man of thirty, states that he was a
normal boy up to the age of fourteen, when
his toes and jaw began to grow very large.
He continued his employment on the rail-
way at Bradford, but at twenty-one he had
to cease work, as his frame had grown so
much, and he had become weak.

He was then seven feet tall and weighed
over two hundred and forty pounds. The
utmost caution had to be taken in walking,
as his limbs came out of joint easily. He
is still growing, and his left hip has be-
come so large as to prevent him from
st anding upright.

He is able to sit up for only a few hours
each day, and is provided with a special
chair of large proportions. He says that
he is never free from pain.

Mr. Faulkner’s parents are both about
medium height, as are his brother and sis-
ter.

“Giants’ disease,” an uncommon and as
yet little understood disease, usually shows
symptoms like the above at about the age
of twenty-five. So far as is known there
is no cure, and the usual treatment, with
thyroid extract, appears to have no influ-
ence on the progress of the disease.

Housewives of To-day Helpless,
“If the woman of to-day were deprived
of modern methods and appliances, and
forced to live as our grandmothers lived,

she would freeze or starve to death
through ignorance of the crudest laws of
self-preservation,” said Miss Josephine Ca-
sey, sewing instructor in one of the Kan-
sas City high schools, in an address at the
Kansas City Historical Society exposition.

“Factory, packing-house and wholesale
grocery,” she continued, “have taken from
the housewife's shoulders the burden of
carding, spinning, and weaving the family

|garments, to say nothing of the curing of

meats, preserving fruits, making butter an

cheese, arid eyen refining sugar. The
housewife of the old day also was the fam-
ily doctor, and kept rows of dried herbs
tied above the great chimney where hung
the Sausages | and hams being smoked for
winter’s use.”

Peruvians Fifty Thousand Years Old.

Professor Bowman, of the Yale geologi-
cal department, after a more careful study
of the human bones found by the Bingham
expedition to Peru, estimates their mini-
Pat age at ay thousand. years, instead

 

of ten thousand years, the original esti-
mate,

The bones were located under about one
hundred feet of alluvial soil of the glacial
age.

Doctor Eaton, of the Yale museum, has
determined bey ond doubt that the bones be-
long to a race type like that of the present
Indians at Peru.

Extravagance Makes High Cost of Living.

John Hays Hammond, the foremost
American mining expert, told the members
of the National Civic Federation, at Wash-
ington, D. C., that the Federal regulation of
all trusts that are vitally affected by pro-
tective tariff will do much toward remedy-
ing the high cost of living evil.

He also declared for a minimum wage
for workingmen, reserving the right to the
employer to insist upon efficiency,

With President Taft as the principal
speaker, the eee held its banquet at
the New Willard Hotel.

Mr. Hammond discussed the subject of
the increased cost of living. _The question
of future food supply he holds to be an
important one. He said that extravagance
plays a la wee part in the cost of living to-
day. He also favored the impdsition of
income and inheritance taxes, and work
men’s compensation plans.

Office Clerk Suddenly Becomes Millionaire.

Edward Mather, a clerk in the office of
the Rock Island Railroad, at Omaha, Neb.,
received a court certificate declaring
him to be the heir, to $1,000,000 from.
the estate of Robert Mather, his brother,
head of the Westinghouse Company.

Within ten minutes of the receipt of the
certificate the Omaha man had resigned,
taken his hat, and left the Rock Island
offices.

George Junior Republic Has Girl President.

Mabel Hicks, first girl president of. the
George Junior Republic, at Flemington
Junction, N. J., was inaugurated. Rudolph
Franklin, chief justice, administered the
oath of office. Hugh Miller was also in-
ducted into office as judge, and Fred Palm-
er took the oath as secretary of state and —
treasurer. Merton Hurley is the new chief
of police.

The new officials each made an address. -
The inaugural ball was held in the evening.

The new president and the new ipeRY ie

court judge led the grand match.

Permitting Traveling Men to Vote.

A bill to permit actors, traveling men,
railroad men, and others absent from their
homes on Election ‘Day to vote for presi-
dential electors in the States where they
happen to be was introduced in the House
of Representatives, at Washington, by
Representative Cary, of Wisconsin. oF

To Preserve “Don’t Give Up the Ship” Flags,
Perry’s famous, “Don’t give up the ship’
Lake Erie battle flag, and one hundred eas
thirty-five other scarred and crumbling |
American naval trophies probably will be
taken from their boxes at the Naval Acad-—
emy and renovated so that they may be.

saved for coming generations. '

The naval affairs committee of the Haas
of Representatives, at Washington, fayor-
ably reported the Bates bill. which would
appropriate $30,000 for this purpose. It
is proposed to sew a ancient

 
upon backing of fine linen, the work to be
done by expert needlewomen in fine
stitches that would be almost invisible.

School Teacher Wins $3,000 European Trip.

Miss Hester E. Hosford, teacher of se-
nior literature in the Orange (N. J.) High
School, won the first prize of the Mary
Lansing Foundation of New York. The
$3,000 prize is awarded once every three
years to literature teachers of special merit,
and is available for traveling expenses in
Europe.

Yale Hockey Team Re-elects Captain Harmon,

Archer Harmon, 1912, of New York
City, was reélected captain of the Yale
hockey team. He plays at center.

Another Roosevelt Daughter to Marry.

It is predicted that the announcement of
an engagement between Miss Ethel, daugh-
ter of Colonel Theodore Roosevelt, and
Mr. George Palen Snow, will soon be forth-
coming.

Mr. Snow is about thirty years old, a
lawyer of Wall Street, New York, a Har-
vard man, and has been very attentive to
Miss Roosevelt.

While there never has been any publica-
tion of the possibility of an* engagement
between Mr. Snow and Miss Roosevelt,
their friends would not be surprised at the
announcement. In fact, it is rather sus-
pected that the announcement may come
from the colonel. A close friend of Mr.
Snow, while not willing to be quoted, said
that it looked to him like an engagement.
Miss Roosevelt’s friends have been pre-
dicting an engagement for some time.

_ West Point’s Baseball Star.

Robert Lee Hyatt, the West Point foot-
ball star, who will make his bow as a big
leaguer with the Detroit Tigers next June,
is a versatile young soldier. In Eastern
collegiate pastiming last summer the Mon-
ticello, Ark., athlete was rated as equal to
any twirler, and, better still, he performed

faultlessly at first and second base, in left

field and back of the log during his three
years of service for the army nine,
Back in 1909 Hyatt cavorted about first
base when not assigned to pitching duty.
Breaking into an even dozen games, he
—walloped the ball for a percentage, of .265
and fielded his position without a_ skip.
The following season Hyatt pitched, and
on sundry occasions donned the chest pro-
tector. Moreover,; when the “pinches”
arose he tried his hand at\first and second
sacking., In fifteen combats Hyatt regis-
_ tered a batting mark of .268, while his
» fielding record footed up to .945.
Appearing in fifteen games during the
season of 1911 Hyatt held down left field
and second base at various times, batting
_.161, whilé in the field he earned a rating
of As a hurler he shone brilliantly,
pitching the army nine to victory in five
contests. Two of his starts resulted. in
drawn scores, while three times the oppos-
Ye team put the soldiers to rout. ;
Hyatt will be\the army’s mainstay this
year. At the close of the West Point sea-
son he goes to Detroit.

aN 3 |
_ Most Expensive Battery in the United States,
Making off with astonishing speed when
allenged by soldiers, a man who was ap-
parently aged and bent, made his escape
‘among the timber behind the isolated $1,-

er i

.

 

Vir bor WEERLY:

000,000 battery at Fort Stevens, Oregon,
and is thought to have been a spy. The
battery is the most expensive in the United
States, and all civilians are carefully kept
away from it. Soldiers have been ordered
to shoot to kill.

Census Clerks Dismissed.

The last of the temporary clerks em-
ployed by the census bureau to compile the
1910 census returns were retired from the
government service, at Washington, D. C.
There are 281 temporary clerks still on the
pay roll, thirty-eight States and the District
of Columbia being represented.

Congress refused to make the appropria-
tion asked for by Director Durand to keep
the clerks at the bureau until the census
work could be completed. The director
says there will be slight delays in one or
two census divisions as a result of the
cutting off of the extra force, but he does
not think they will be serious.

Stenographets ate Not Mechanics.

Ruling that a woman employed in operat-
ing a typewriter is not a mechanic, Supe-
rior Judge ‘W. O. Chapman, of Seattle,
Wash., upheld the appeal taken by
General Manager L. H. Sean, of the Ta-
coma Railway & Power Co., from a
justice court conviction for violating the
eight-hour law for women. In consequence
Bean did‘ not have to pay a $20. fine -im-
posed by the justice court because one of
his stenographers had to work more than
eight hours one day several months ago.

Judge Chapman holds that ability to
touch the keys of a typewriter or piano
does not make a woman a mechanic. He
says the test of the eight-hour law for
women is not so much the’ nature of the
service rendéred as whether or not it is
rendered in a mechanical or manufacturing
establishment. ;

The law decrees that no woman em-
ployed in any mechanical or manufactur-

ing establishment, laundry, hotel, or res-

taurant shall be compelled to work more
than eight hours a day, Hence the court
rules that a typewriter operator 1s not in-
cluded.

Bean’s attorneys contended that if a
typewriter operator employed in a law of-
fice was a mechanic, then the law office
would legally become a mechanical institu-
tion.

New Yotk to Compromise on Horse Racing.

The latest scheme proposed for securing
the reopening of the race tracks in New
York State is through the appointment of
a legislative investigating committee, at Al-
bany. This committee will be asked to de-
vise a plan for permitting horse racing,
“in a manner satisfactory to both the: track
owners and those who fear the letting
down of the bars against betting.”

The committees will confer with repre-
sentatives of the Jockey Club, agricultural
and county fair societies, the State agri-
cultural department and the reform asso-
ciations,

Earth Nearly a Billion Years Old.

Radioactive metals, which have revolu-
tionized the old notions as to’ the make-up
of matter, promise to’ upset all existing
theories as to the age of the earth. Profes-
sor John Bosler, in'a paper read before the
French Astronomical Society, in Paris,
France, dealing with the ages of various

;

 

kinds of rock, calculated upon the basis
of the amount of helium contained in each,
declared that a sample of the later tertiary
period must be 8,000,000 years old.

The professor further eoncluded that
the eocene rock must be 150,000,000 years
old, the primitive igneous 710,000,000 years
old. The most daring assumptions hitherto
have accorded to the earth an age of not
more than 100,000,000 years.

Pure Food Expert Gondemns University
Education. ©
“The education young men. get to-day in
universities is a curse,’ said Doctor Wiley,
pure food expert, in an address in Wash-
ington, D. C., in which he declared also that
présidents of the universities must be beg-
gars of funds.

New York University Has Big Enrollment.

The New York University, in New York
City, has now a total enrollment of 4,306
students. This is 160 students more than
were enrolled last year, and is the largest
attendance that the university has ever had.

The school of commerce, accounts, and
finance has a total enrollment of 1,372 stu-
dents, a gain of 190 students over last year.

The university law school has 650 stu-
dents in attendance.

President to be Czat of Panama Canal Zone.

The bill that the House of Representa-
tives committee, at Washington, on inter-
state and foreign commerce is drafting”
with regard to tolls on the Panama Canal
will provide that the Canal Zone shall be
administered by the president through a
governor, and such other officers as the
president may appoint.

This will give the president almost com-
plete authority throughout the zone.

The three courts now on the zone are to
be done away with, and their business
transacted by one court.

Tolls will be provided for, but the pre-
cise amount has not yet been agreed upon.

A majority of the committee at present
favors $1 a ton on net register of vessels.
This would equal forty to sixty cents per.
ton on cargo carried.

Minimum and maximum tolls are to be
provided for, these to be applied by the
president as conditions may warrant.

The Atlantic and Pacific coasts will de-
mand free ships, while the interior sections
will demand tolls.

The Banner Yeat in the Egg Market.

. A new record in the-exportation of eggs
was reached in 1911, in spite of unusually
high prices in domestic markets. The bu-
reau. of statistics of the department of
commerce, at Washington, D. C., reports
exports of 13,250,000 dozen, valued at $2,-
700,000. These figures furnish an interest-
ing comparison with exports in other years
1880, 80,000 dozen; 1890, 380,000 dozen:
1897, 1,333,000 dozen; 1900, 6,000,000 dozen;
1907, 7,000,000 dozen, j

Cuba, Canada, Panama, and Mexico ate
the chief buyers,

Yearly importations of

} eggs have fallen —
off during the last quarter of a century
from 15,000,000 dozen to less than 1,000,000.
dozen in 1911; Decrease in importation is ”

mainly due to the tariff in 1890,
duty on eggs, f

Prices of eggs and other provisions are —
abnormally high elsewhere, according to-

placing a

 
/ >> wares.

 

consular reports from England, France,
Austria, Germany, Spain, Japan, and many
other countries,
Sparrows Sing Like Canaries,
A graduate of Indiana University, Doctor

L. Conradi, now of Clark University, has,

trained young sparrows to sing like canary
birds by simply putting them with the song-
sters. Doctor Conradi has been making ex-
_ periments with the much-despised sparrow

for several years, and his work has now
_ been crowned with success.

Professor M. E. Haggerty, of Indiana
University, has been conducting experi-
ments much along the same lines in connec-

tion with his study of the imitative beha-
vior of animals,
_ He says that it is now a known fact that
the young sparrow-when placed with the
canary will imitate that bird and pick up
many of its notes.

- Boy Scouts Founder Celebrates His Birthday.

General Sir Robert S. S. Baden-Powell,
the founder of the Boy Scouts, celebrated
his fifty-fifth birthday anniversary, at
Louisville, Ky., and at a rege given by
the Kentucky Scout Masters of the Boy
Scouts, Lieutenant Governor McDermott
presented to the hero of Mafeking a bou-
quet containing fifty-five carnations.

Before leaving Louisville, General Ba-
_ den-Powell compared the British and
American Boy Scouts. He said:

“The American Boy Scout is more ma-
tured mentally than the English scout of
the same age. Likewise, he possesses more
resourcefulness and initiative.

“The English scout is more amenable. to
the mild discipline of the organization than
the American, and does not so readily al-
low his teamwork to become disorganized.

“In the matter of physical development
the boys of the really large cities in both
_. countries seem to be about on an equality.”

4, ‘ A Peddler Admitted to the Massachusetts Bar.

Ten years ago Moses H. Steuer could
- not read or write. At the age of fifty-six
he was recently admitted to the Massachu-
setts bar, at Boston. Steuer came to this
country a little more than a decade ago.
_ To earn a living and support his family he
traveled from house to house selling small
4 Then he became involved in a law-
Py eUlt, %
~ In a Boston court Steuer successfully ar-
_ gutted his own case, and recovered goods
_ which a deputy sheriff had replevined. The
court proceedings gave him an inspiration
to study, and he began to learn English,
- Working by day and studying law at night,
Steuer laid the foundation for his profes-
_ sional career, _
_ Hindu Scholar Studying American Institutions,
Prince Sarath Ghosh, whose name is a
byword for scholarship in India, gave out
an interview in San Francisco, on his ar-
rival from the Orient, in which he says that
the Delhi durbar served to create a new
sentiment of loyalty to the crown through-
_out*the provinces of his native India,
__ Prince Ghosh, in spite of his twenty-one
~ years of age, is one of the recognized
leaders of his race, and author of a book
which, he believes, inspired the colonial
“government with the idea of inducing the
Mag and queen to attend the recent corona-
tion durbar. In his book, “The Prince of
Destiny,” he pointed out that a magnificent
gyniboite ‘spectacle that would strike the
a RE ‘ a

can do what men cz

 

TIP’ TOP WEEKLY.

imagination of the smaller rulers and the
masses would check revolutionary feeling
and restore loyalty.

Prince Ghosh is Maharajah of Batiala,
and now is paying his first visit to the
United States in the éxpectation of finding
ideas applicable for the advancement of his
own country. He wore a rich Oriental
costume and made a distinguished appear-
ance. A flower-figured shawl was draped
over his shoulders, and a collar containing
twenty diamonds and five hundred pearls
encircled his neck.

Rockefeller’s Bible Class Discusses Mothers-in-

Law.

The majority of the married members of
the Sunday-school class conducted by John
D, Rockefeller at the Fifth Avenue Bap-
tist Church, New York City, decided that
newlyweds, and for that matter the old-
timer married couples as well, were better
if mother stayed’ away from the “dove-
cote.”

“Discourage the visits of your mother-
in-law,” said one of the members of the
class, “keep her out of your homes as
much as you can.” ;
Gum-chewing Stenographers Not Real Business

omen,

“Most of the trades and professions are
thrown open to women nowadays. Why
not still further throw down the bars and
let her become an engineer, an assayer, an
expert watchmaker, a jewel setter, a first-
class wood carver?”

In an address dealing with the varied,
complex, and ever-shifting phases of the
education of women, delivered at the New
Century Guild before the Mothers’ Club,
at Philadelphia, Pa., Miss Susan C. Lodge,
principal of the Collegiate Institute for
Girls, made the suggestion, and discussed
the . possibilities of training women for
those trades and deflecting some of them
from overcrowded business ‘callings.

Miss Lodge declared that the limited
number of women in the professions givés
rise. at once to the desire to know why,
with the tw@ avenues of medicine and law
open to them, they have not taken greater
advantage of their opportunities and why
they have so persistently taken up the busi-
ness field’ as a special calling.

She stated that the word business so far
as the woman employee is concerned cov-
ers a multitude of sins and said that the
girl stenographer who earns five dollars a
week, takes a few letters a day, and chews
gum cannot be regarded as the real type of
earnest and efficient business woman.

In dealing with the subject of suitable
education for girls, the Revicer admitted
that woman’s ever-shifting sphere compli-
cates the selection of a definite standard or
course of studies. She said now that: the
college curriculum has proved that women
do, it is time that it
was readjusted to show women what they
ought to do and what will be useful to
them.

Harvard President a Bullfighter for One Minute,

President Lowell, of Harvard, and his
pet spaniel, Theodore, on their way to the
stadium in Cambridge, Mass., recently, met
a herd of cattle being driven to the
Brighton abattoir. A young bull, evidently
displeased at the appearance of the dog,
charged at it, head down. President Low-
ell stepped to one side and hit the bull a

 

31

blow on the head with a heavy cane. The
herdsmen then rushed forth, and corralled
the bull.

Status of the New Baseball League.

August Herrman, chairman of the Na-
tional Basevall Commission, speaking in
Cincinnati, Ohio, said that organized base-
ball was not hostile to the newly formed
Columbian and United. States leagues.

“The two leagues are not outlaws,” he
said, “They are independent bodies within
their rights and not trespassing on ours.
We have no right to object to them, and
no license to annoy them. The status of
the two leagues is exactly similar so far
as organized baseball is concerned.

“If I had a player for whom I had no
room, and all the big league clubs waived
claim on ‘him, J would not hesitate to turn
him over to either league. Any national
agreement team has a perfect right to dis-
pose of its contracts to any organization
not in the outlaw class.”

Is There a Moving-pictute Trust?

The department of justice at Washing’
ton, D.C. is investigating the moving--%
picture business to ascertain if there is a
“trust.”

The inquiry, like many recent Sherman
law cases, involves primarily the use of
patents. The matter has not yet progressed
to the point where it can be definitely
determined that there is or is not a viola-
tion of the antitrust statute.

Congressman Decries the Toothbrush.

“If I had my way I’d make it a penal
offense for any mother to put a toothbrush
in the mouth of a child,” declared Repre-
sentative Cyrus Sulloway, of New Hamp-
shire, at a hearing before the District of
Columbia committee, in Washington, on a

pill to regulate dentistry.
Germany Does Not Want to Fight United
States.

President Taft and the German ambas-
sador, Count Von Bernstorff, both heartily
favor the earliest consummation ofan ar-
bitration treaty with, Germany, according
to Marcus M,. Marks and Doctor Louis
Livingston Seaman, members of a special
committee of the, New York Peace So-
ciety. [g
The committee gave out a letter received
from Mr. Taft, in which he mentioned the
ready response of France and Great Brit- —

ain to his suggestion for a peace treaty, =

and continues: gn ‘ ms
“Subsequently, the diplomatic represen-
tatives of Germany and several other Euro-

pean countries requested, and were given, —

copies of the tentative draft, but the nego- _
tiations with Germany, as well as similar
negotiations with other powers, have been
temporarily held in abeyance, pending the’
final action of the Senate upon treaties with
Great Britain and France. * ma eee
“You can rest assured that, immediately,
upon the ratification of the present trea+
ties, efforts of the most earnest ¢haracter
will be resumed to bring about a treaty
with Germany equally progressive and sig.
nificant of a desire for universal peace b
arbitration on the part of both the high
contracting parties. No one recognizes,
more clearly than does this government
the widespread utility in the cause of world
peace that such a treaty with Germany,
would effect.” PRET ston.

 
ee ee

PLAY
| BALL!

le

Tip Top Championship ontest of 1912

Open to amateur baseball nines anywhere in the United
States. New uniforms for each of the two winning
teams. BEGIN NOW. Contest Closes October 15th.

ip we

PLAY |
BALL!

dies cee

Eleventh Annual
Baseball Tournament |.

 

 

 

 

FIRST PRIZE:—The team which, at the end of the season, has the highest
average—that is, plays the greatest number of games and scores the largest number
of runs, will be declared the TIP TOP CHAMPIONSHIP TEAM OF 1912, and will
receive a handsome silk pennant bearing words to that effect. In addition to this,
the champion team will receive an equipment of nine high-grade uniforms—cap,
shirt, belt, trousers and stockings for each member.

SECOND PRIZE:—The team showing the next highest average, will be declared
the winner of the second place, and the members will receive each a uniform equip-
ment exactly like that given to each member of the champion team.

In the event of a tie between two teams, the ‘batting and fielding average of the teams will be considered. The captains of com-
peting teams are therefore advised to preserve the detailed score of each game, but not to send it to this office until requested to do so.

TEN COUPONS REQUIRED FOR THE RECORD OF EACH GAME .

In order that TIP TOP may have a complete and‘ proper record of each game played by each
team entering this contest, ten coupons must be sent in for each game. ‘These consist of one
coupon from each of the nine players, and one manager ’s,coupon, The last coupon must be mailed
_on or before October 15th, when the contest closes.

Oe ea Tl TRY ee toes mca Ce ee

MANAGER’S COUPON “ PLAYER’S COUPON

to all the clubs that enter this contest, and that th

For each game played during the season, the manager desiring to Tn fairness Cre
enter the Tip Top Contest, is required to fill outa Manager’s Coupon, | ™ay be no doubt as to w hom the prizes should go, Tip Top requires a
like that below, fill it in, signit, and obtain the endorsement of his | Coupon from each member’ of the nine as well as the manager's

l a rovi i I coupon. Below is the coupon which each player should cut out,
trie oa B reputable HWS GARATEs: Se. SRON EG 2a Pe ORR fill in, sign and give to the manager of the nine that he may send it

along with the manager’s coupon,

 

 

 

Tir TOP BASEBALL TOURNAMENT OF 1912

 

—

 

 

 

: TIP TOP BASEBALL TOURNAMENT OF 1912

Eee Oe IVE NORM cole cps Sikinc Ok scene Reo hwat usb dep dc wmewdencaoninn

Mame of Opposing Peninn. {023 082d. sus as stake. Gonddko ces aenoeetinics Joa sne

RTPI iirc ss cat ir eR NG A hea aed is dd dich Mey hc afm
PIAEE AE CoAT se i oS epi scc te cwumalesoCuuuWarwob bpaecaaqebun dave enyetibun.
re Fee Lae clade ee thes nada ck bupnten sane s date suwagis

es SURE oy oe rc Wek ee uke pebpabenetaeasbemawhAnsieehaetaedau

Endorsement of Postmaster  '

Le rumetebac:! Wea tel Eg yokes ose Be RN La eS UE aC lateralis Nieragleaaniaas

 

This is to certify that I played in the game between the
a Te ee, Soe Se ik ME ANS ics Feo a ec beled: eee oe
PR CME AYRE gi Conp enc itoaladnt Secs chaciebi oc Sonia th eu a eae
My Pdattlotes W 86 seca co encs se AN Matar iae eC AN eRe A Bo ee Ma
Wine ic Sass date nat 6a Ned ee ae louse KE). See ota ea

Final Score

 
 
“t

——_——__——— AI |, OF THE BACK NUMBERS OF

TIP TOP WEEKLY

——

Dick Merriwell's Lead.
Dick Merriwell’s Influence.
Dick Merriwell’s Top Notch.
Frank Merriwell’s Kids.
-Frank Merriwell’s Kodakers.
—~Dick Merriwell, Freshman.
Dick Merriwell’s Progress.
—Dick Merriwell, Half-back.
Dick Merriwell’s Resentment.
—Dick Merriwell Repaid.
—Dick Merriwell’s
Power.
—~Dick Merriwell’s ‘‘Push.”
~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.
-Frank Merriwell’s Trailing.
54 frank Merriwell’s Talisman.
565—Frank Merriwell’s Horse.
566—Frank Merriwell’s Intrusion.
567—F rank Merriwell’s Bluff.
568—Dick Merriwell’s Regret.
569—Dick Merriwell’s s Silent
570—Dick Merriwell’s Arm.
571—Dick Merriwell’s S Skill,
572—Dick Merriwell's’M: ignetism.
573—Dick Merriwell’s System.
574—Dick Merriwell’s Salvation.
575—-Dick Merriwell’s Twirling.
576—Dick Merriwell’s Pa rty.
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 Disadvan-
- tage.
584—Dick Merriwell Beset.
586 _Die k Merriwell’s Distrust.
587—Dick Merriwell, Lion Tamer.
5S8—Dick Merriwell’s Camp-site.
589—Dick Merriwell’s Debt.
590—Dick Merriwell’s Camp Mates.
591——Dick Merriwell’s Draw.
592—Dick Merriwell’s Disapproval.
593—Dick Merriwell’s Mastery.
594—Dick Merriwell’s Warm Work.
595—Dick Merriwell’s “Double
Squeeze.”
596—Dick Merriwell’s Vanishing.
597—Dick Merriwell Adrift.
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.
603—Dick Merriwell in the Line.
604—Dick Merriwell’s Drop Kick.
605—F rank Merriwell’s Air Voyage.
606—Frank Merriwell’s Auto. ¢ ‘hase.
607——Frank Merriwell’s Captive.
60S8—Dick Merriwell’s Value.
609—Dick Merriwell Doped.
610—Dick Merriwell’s Belief.
611—Frank Merriwell in the Mar-
ket.
612—Irrank Merriwell’s
Fortune.
—Frank Merriwell on ‘Top.
Dick Merriwell’s Trip West.
—Dick Merriwell’s Predicament.
Dick Merriwell in Mystery
Valley.
Frank Merriwell’s Proposition.
Frank Merriwell Perplexed.
Frank Merriwell’s Suspicion.
Dick Merriwell’s Gallantry.
Dick Merriwell’s Condition.
Dick Me rriwell’ s Stanchness.
Dick Merriwell’s Match.
Frank Merriwell’s Hard Case.
-Frank Merriwell’s Helper.
Frank Merriwell’s Doubts.

545

546

547

548—
549—
550
551
§52
555
554

555

556
557

565

Work.

Fight for

626

Staying 6:

Frank Merriwell’s ‘‘Phenom.”
Dick Merriwell’s Stand.
Dick Merriwell’s Circle.
Dick Merriwell’s Reach.
Dick Merriwell’s Money.
Dick Merriwell Watched.
-_Dick Merriwell Doubted.
Dick Merriwell’s Distrust.
Dick Merriwell's Risk.
Frank Merriwell’s Favorite.
i rank Merriwell’s Young
Clippers.
Frank Merriwell’s
Breakers. :
640—Dick Merriwell’s Shoulder.
641—Dick Merriwell’s Despe
Work.
$42—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 Ww ilds.
647—Dick Me rriwell’ s Red Comrade.
648—Frank Merriwell’s Ranch.
649—Frank Merriwell in the Saddle.
650—Frank Merriwell’s Brand.
GF o1— _Frank Merriwell’s Red Guide.
652—Dick Merriwell’s Rival.
653—Dick Merr iwell’s Strength.
6! oe Dick Merriwell’s Secret Work.
655—Dick Merriwell’s Way.
656—Frank Merriwell’s Red Visitor.
657—Frank Merriwell’s Rope.
658—Frank Merriwell’s Lesson.
659—-Frank Merriwell’s Protection.
660—Dick Merriwell’s Reputation.
661—Dick Merriwell’s Motto.
662—Dick Merriwell’s Restraint.
663— Dic k Merriwell’s Ginger.
Gb4—Dick Merriwell’s hid a
665—_Dick Mexriwel!’s Good Cheer,
666—Frank Merriwell’s Theory.
667—F rank Merriwell’s Diplomacy.
6G8—Frank Merriwell’s Encourage-
ment.
669—Frank Merriwell’s Great Work.
670—Dick Merriwell’s Mind.
671—Dick Merriwell’s ‘“‘Dip.”
672—Dick Merriwell’s Rally.
673—Dick Merriwell's Flier.
674—F rank Merriwell’s Bullets.
675—F rank Merriwell’s Cut Off.
6 1o-— rank 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—Frank Merriwell’s Pupil.
683—Frank Merriwell’s Fighters.
684 $e. —Dick Merriwell at the “Meet.”
685—Dick Merriwell’s P rotest.
686—Dick Merriwell in the
thon.
687—Dick Merriwell's Colors.
688—Dick Merriwell, Driver.
689—Dick Merriwell on the Deep.
690—Dick Merriwell in the North 7
Woods.
691—Dick Merriwell’s Dandies.
692—Dick Merriwell’s Skyscooter.
693—Dick Merriwell in the Elk
Mountains.
694—Dick Merriwell in Utah.
695—Dick Merriwell’s Bluff.
696—Dick Merriwell in the Saddle.
697—Dick Merriwell’s
Friends.
-Frank Merriwell
sake.
699—F rank Merriwell’s Hold-back.
700—Frank Merriwe ‘I's Lively Lads
701—Frank Merriwell as Instructor.
702—Dick Merriwell’s Cayuse.
703—Dick Merriwell’s Quirt.
704—Dick Merriwell’s Freshman
Fr iend.
705—Dick Merriwell’s Best Form.

Record

rate

Mara-

698- at Phantom

Ranch
>

THAT CAN NOW BE SUPPLIED

iy
—Fr
—I"r:

ank Merriwell’s Daring Deed
ank Merriwell’s Succor.
ink Merriwell’s Wit.

Merriwell’s Prank.
Merriwell’s Gambol.
Merriwell’s Gun.
Merriwell at His Best.
Merriwell’s Master Mind.
Merriwell’s Dander.
Merriwell’s Hope. v!
Merriwell’s Standard.
Dick Merriwell’s Sympathy.
Dick Merriwell in Lumber
Land.
Frank Merriwell’s Fairness.
Frank Merriwell’s Pledge.
—Frank Merriwell, the Man
Grit.
719—F rank
Blow.
720—Frank Merriwell’s Quest.
(21—F're ank Merriwell’s Ingots.
12% 2—Fré ank Merriwell’s Assistance.
723—Frank Merriwell at the
Throttle.
724—Frank Merriwell,
teady
ank Merriwell
Land.
726—Frank Mer riwell’ S
o hance,
727—Frank Merriwell’ s Black Ter-
ror.
728—FIrank “Merriwell

Dick
Dick
—Dick
Dick
Dick
Dick
Dick
Dick

—Frank Merriwell’s Loyalty.
—Frank Merriwell’s Bold Pi: Ly.
-—Frank Merriwell’s Insight.
Frank Merriwell’s Guile.
Frank Merriwell's Campaign.
Frank Merriwell in the Na-
tional Forest.
3—Frank Merriwell’s Tenacity.
Dick Merriwell’s Self-sacrifice.
Dick Merriwell’s Close Shave.
$—Dic k Merriwell’s Perception.
—Dick Merriwell’s Mysterious
Disappearance.
S8—Dick Merriwell’s
Work.
Dick Merriwell’s Proof.
Dick Merriwell’s Brain Work.
Dick Merriwell’s Queer Case.
Dick Merriwell, Navi igator.
Dick Merriwell’s Good Fellow-
ship.
Dick Merriwell’s Fun.
Dick Merriwell’s Commence-
ment.
796—Dick Merriwell
Point.
797—Dick Merriwell, Mediator.
Slab. 798—Dick Merriwell’s Decision.
729—Frank Merriwell’s Hard eto the ee ae eee
730—Frank Merriwell’s _Six-in-hane gle Valente
a °1—Frank Merriwell’s Duplicate. 800—Dick Merriwell C
73: 9—Frank Merriwell on Rattle- ping.
snake Ranch. 801—Dick Merriwell in the Copper
—Frank Mertiwell s Sure Hand. Country.
34—F rank Merriwell’s Treasure 802—Dick Merriwell Strapped.
Map 803—Dick Merriwell’s Coolness.
rank “Merriwell, of 804—Dick Merriwell’s Reliance.
the Rope. 805—~Dick Merriwell’s College Mate.
736—Dick Merriwell, of 806-—Dick Merriwell’s Young
a Varsity. Z . Pitcher,
87—Dick Merriwel!’s Contro s0o7— erriwell’s Pr ino
38—Dick Merriwell’s Back Stop. oO e “Bie ueieoll ss eee
39—Dick Merriwell’s Masked En-go99—Frank Merriwell’s | Interfer-
emy. ence.
a Merriwell’s 810—Frank  Merriwell’s
»
3

ee

\
1
.
x

del -1-1-1-1

s
Ss
Ss

00 2 DPetoasatetets]

“1-1

of
Merriwell’s Return
Detective

789
T0-
791
792-
703—

the Always

T25—Fr in Diamond 794
mO=
iJ
Desperate

at Montauk

Again. on the

aught Nap-

735—Fr Prince

Captain

Motor Car. Young

Dick Merriwell’s Hot Pursuit. Warriors.

811—T rank Merriwell’s Appr aisal.

81° 2—I" rank Merriwell’s Forgiveness

813—F rank Merriwell’s Lads.

814—Frank Merriwell’s

Aviators.

815—F rank Merriwell’s Hot-head.

§16—Dick Merriwell, Diplomat.

yt 7- ee eo aihat Panama.

1—Dick Merriwell’s Pick-ups. 818—Dick Merriwell’s Perseverance.

c : , ) e SS —Dick Merriwell Triumphant.

—Dick Merriwell on th tock 8°0—Dick Merrfwoll'a Hetrayal.

ing R.
Lary N iwell’s Penctration. 21 —Dick Merriwell, Revolutionist.
Dee eee oon 22—TDick Merriwell’s Fortitude.

_Dick Merriwell’s Intuition. ah
_Dick Merriwell’s Vantage. 823; -Dick Merriwell’ sU ndoing.
Dick Merriwell’s Advice. 24—Dick Merriwell, Universal
57—Dick Merriwell’s Rescue. Coach.
58—Dick Merriwell, American. 825—Dick Merriwell’s Snare.
=9——Dick Merriwell’s Understand- 826—Dick Merriwell’s Star P upil.
ing. §27—Dick Merriwell’s Astuteness.
760—Dick Merriwell, Tutor. 828—Dic k Merriwell’s Responsi-
761—Dick Merriwell’s Quand: iry. bility.
762—Dick Merriwell on the Boi rds. 829—Dick Merriwell’s Plan.
763—Dick Merriwell, Peacemaker. 880—Dick Merriwell’s Warning.
764—-Frank Merriwell’s Sway. 831—Dick Merriwell’s Counsel.
765—Frank Merriwell’s Compre- 832—Dick Merriwell’s Champions.
hension. of 33—Dick Merriwell’s Marksmen.
Q9
83

4

4

42—Dick Merriwell at Forest Lake
48—Dick Merriwell in Court.
44—Dick Merriwell’s Silence.
45—Dick Merriwell’s Dog.
46—Dick Mer riwell’s Subterfuge.
47—Dick Merriwell’s Enigma.
48—Dick Merriwell Defeate d
749- —Dick Merriwell's “Wing!

7 —Pick Merriwell’s Sky Chase.

Young

.

53-
54
5A
56

766—F rank Merriwell’s Young —Dick Merriwell’s Enthusiasm.
me Acrobat. —Dick Merriwell’s Solution.
767—Frank Merriwell’s Tact. Dick Merriwell’s Foreign Foe
768— Frank Merriwell’s Unknown. —Dick Merriwell and the Car-
769—F rank Merriwell’s Acuteness. lisle Warriors.
770—Frank Merriwell’s Young Dick Merriwell’s Battle for the
Canadian. Blue. ae
71—F rank Merriwell’s Coward. ‘Dick Merriwell’s Pvidence
—Frank Merriwell’s Perplexity. Dick Merriwell’s Device. —
Frank Merriwell’s Dick Merriwell’s Princeton Op-
tion. ponents.

)
5
34
35
36
OT
S358
839
840
Interven- 841

»
T2-
°
one

 

PRICE, FIVE CENTS PER COPY

of our weeklies and cannot procure them from your news-dealer, they can be obtained direct

If you want any back numbers

from this office.

Postage-stamps taken the same as money.

‘a! si PTREET & SMITH, PUBLISHERS, 79-89 SEVENTH AVE., NEW YORK

 
——ALL, OF THE BACK NUMBERS

OF

TIP TOP WEERLY

———. $$

THAT CAN NOW

BE SUPPLIED

 

Dick Merriwell’s Lead.
-Dick Merriwell’s Influence,
Dick Merriwell’s Top Notch.
Frank Merriwell’s Kids.
-I’rank Merriwell’s Kodakers.
—Dick Merriwell, Freshman.
-Dick Merriwell’s Progress.
—Dick Merriwell, Half-back,
553—Dick Merriwell’s Resentment.
554—Dick Merriwell Repaid.
555—Dick Merriwell’s
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—F rank Merriwell’s Intrusion.
567—Frank Merriwell’ s Bluff.
568—Dick Merriwell’s Regret.
569—Dick Merriwell’s Silent Work.
570—Dick Merriwell’s Arm.
571—Dick Merriwell’s Skill.
572—Dick Merriwell's‘Magnetism.
573—Dick Merriwell’s System.
574—Dick Merriwell’s Salvation.
575—-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 Disadvan-
- tage.
584—Dick Merriwell Besct.
586—Dick Merriwell’s Distrust.
587—Dick Merriwell, Lion Tamer.
5S8—Dick Merriwell’s Camp-site.
589—Dick Merriwell’s Debt.
590—Dick
591—Dick Merriwell’s Draw.
592—Dick Merriwell’s Disapproval.
B$ 3 Dic k Merriwell’s Mastery.
594—Dick Merriwell’s Warm Work.
595—Dick Merriwell’s
Squeeze.”
596—Dick Merriwell’s Vanishing.
597—Dick Merriwell Adrift.
598—Dick Merriwell’s Influence.
599—F rank Merriwell’s Worst Boy.
600—Frank Merriwell’s Annoyance.
601—Frank Merriwell’s Restraint.
602—Dick Merriwell Held Back.
603—Dick Merriwell in the Line.
604—Dick Merriwell’s Drop Kick.
605—F rank Merriwell’s Air Voyage.
.606—Frank Merriwell’s Auto Chase
607—F rank Merriwell’s Captive.
60S8S—Dick Merriwell’s Value.
609—Dick Merriwell Doped.
610—Dick Merriwell’s Belief.
611—F ae Merriwell in the Mar
Ke
612—Irrank Merriwell’s
Fortune.
613—Frank Merriwell on Top.
614—Dick Merriwell’s Trip West.
615—
616

545
546
547
548—
549
550
551-

oo2

”

-Dick Merriwell in
Valley.
617
618
619
620
621
6§22—
G23
6°4
625-
626

Frank Merriwell Perplexed.
rank Merriwell’s Suspicion.
—~Dick Merriwell’s Gallantry.
Dick Merriwell’s Condition.
Dick Merriwell’s Stanchness,
~Dick Merriwell’s Match.
~Frank Merriwell’s Hard Case.
-Frank Merriwell’s Helper.
Frank Merriwell’s Doubts.

Staying

Merriwell’s Camp Mates. (

“Double Ara rank Merriwell’s Cut Off.

Fight for 393 Dick

Dick Merriwell’s Predicament.
Mystery 697—Dick

rank Merriwell’s Proposition.

Merriwell’s Prank.
Merriwell's Gambol.
Merriwell’s Gun.
Merriwell at His Best.
Merriwell’s Master
Merriwell’s Dander.
Merriwell’s Hope.
Merriwell’s Standard.

Dick Merriwell’s Sympathy.
—Dick Merriwell in Lumbe

Land.
-Frank Merriwell’s Fairness.
om rank Merriwell’s Pledge.
Sreakers. —FKrank Merriwell, the Man
640—Dick Merriwell’s Shoulder. Grit.
641—Dick Merriwell’s Desperate 719—Frank
Work. Blow.
642—Dick Merriwell’s Example. 20—F rank Merriwell’s Quest.
643——Dick Merriwell at Gale’s Ferry. 721—I*rank Merriwell’s Ingots.
644—-Dick Merriwell’s Inspiration. a 2—Fr ank Merriwell’s
645—Dick Merriwell’s Shooting. 3—F rank Merriwell
646—Dick Merriwell in the Wilds. : Throttle.
647—Dick Merriwell’s Red Comrade. 724—Frank Merriwell,
648—F rank Merriwell’s Ranch. Ready.
649—F rank Merriwell in the Saddle. 725—Frank Merriwell
rs 50—Frank Merriwell’s Brand. Land.

351—F rank Merriwell’s Red Guide, 726—Frank Merriwell’ S.
652-21 Jick Merriwell’s Rival. Chance.
653—Dick Merriwell’s Strength. —Frank Merriwell’s Black
654—Dick Merriwell’s Secret Work. ror. :
655—Dick Merriwell’s Way. 728—Frank Merriwell
656—F rank Merriwell’s Red Visitor. Slab.

657—F rank Merriwell’s Rope. 729—Frank Merriwell’s Hard
658—F rank Merriwell’s Lesson. 730—Frank Merriwell’s
659—-F rank Merriwell’s Protection, 1—Frank Merriwell’s Duplicate.
660—Dick Merriwell’s Reputation. 732—IFrank Merriwell on
661—-Dick Merriwell’s Motto. snake Ranch.
662—Dick Merriwell’s Restraint. Rar can rank Merriwell’s Sure Hand.
663—Dick Merriwell’s Ginger. 54—Frank Merriwell’s Treasur
G64<—Dick Merriwell’s Srey Map
665—Dick Merriwell’s Good Cheer, 35—Frank Merriwell,
666—F rank Merriwell’s Theory. the Rope.
667—F rank Merriwell’s Diplomacy. 736—Dick Merriwell,
668—Frank Merriwell’s Encourage- the Varsity.
ment, 737—Dick Merriwel’s Control.
669—Frank Merriwell’s Great Work. 738—Dick Merriwell’s Back Stop.
670—Dick Merriwell’s Mind.
i71—Dick Merriwell’s “Dip.”
672—Dick Merriwell’s Rally.
i73—Dick Merriwell's Flier.
674—F rank Merriwell’s Bullets.

Dick
—Dick
-Diek
Dick
~J dick
—] dick
—Dick
-Dick

Frank Merriwell’s ‘*Phenom.”
Dick Merriwell’s Stand.
Dick Merriwell’s Circle.
Dick Merriwell’s Reach.
Dick Merriwell’s Money
-Dick Merriwell Wate hed.
—Dick Merriwell Doubted.
Dick Merriwell’s Distrust.
—Dick Merriwell’s Risk.
-rank Merriwell’s Favorite.
—IFrank Merriwell’s Young
Clippers.
s9— Frank Merriwell’s ,

627
628—
629
63
6:
6:
6:
Ge
6:
GO:
r Gi

706-

i Record

“1-1-1

ei

Merriwell’s

7
fs
re
‘ie at th

the Alway

in

Desperat

Gam

me
fw

a

wo

7: Prince

pre

ve Captain

emy.
0——Dick Merriwell’s Motor Car.
1—Dick: Merriwell’s Hot Pursuit.

—Dick Merriwell in Court.
—Dick Merriwell's Silence.
—Dick Merriwell’s Dog.
6—Dick Merriwell’s Subterfuge.
47—Dick Merriwell’s Enigma.
48—Dick Merriwell Defeated
749—Dick Merriwell's ‘Wing!
750—Dick Merriwell’s Sky Chase.
751—Dick Merriwell’s Pick-ups.
752—Dick Merriwell on the
ing R

6—F rank Merriwell’s Ranch Boss.
er 7—Dick Merriwell’s Equal.
678—Dick Merriwell’s De velopment.
679—Dick Merriwell’s Eve.

680—F rank Merriwell's Zest.
681—F rank Merriwell’s Patience.
682—F rank Merriweli’s Pupil.
683—F rank Merriwell’s Fighters.
684—Dick Merriwell at the “Meet.”
685—Dick Merriwell’s Protest. R.
686—Dick Merriwell in the Mara-7553—Dick Me ‘rriwell’s Penetration.
thon. 754—Dick Merriwell’s Intuition.
*687—Dick Merriwell's Colors. 55—Dick Merriwell’s Vantage.
688—Dick Merriwell, Driver. 56—Dick Merriwell’s Advice.
689—Dick Merriwell on the Deep. 57—Dick pee Rescue.
690—Dick Merriwell in the North 7 58—Dick Merriwell, American.
4 Woods. _159—Dick
691— Diek Merriwell’s Dandies. ing.
192 —Dic k Merriwell’s Skyscooter. 760—Dick Merriwell, Tutor.
Merriwell in the Elk 761—Dick Merriwell’s Quandary.
Mountains. 762—Dick Merriwell on the Boards.
Dick Merriwell in Utah. 763—Dick Merriwell, Peacemaker.
Dick Merriwell’s Bluff. 764—F rank Merriwell’s Sway.
Dick Merriwell in the Saddle, 765—Frank Merriwell’s Compre
Merriwell’s Ranch hension.
Friends. Frank Merriwell's
698—Frank Merriwell Acrobat.
sake. 767—F rank Merriwell’s Tact.
699—F rank Merriwell’s Hold-back. 768—Frank Merriwell’s Unknown.
700—Frank Merriwell’s Lively Lads 769—F rank Merriwell’s Acuteness.
701—-F rank Merriwell as Instructor. 770—Frank Merriwell’s
702—Dick Merriwell's Cavuse. Canadian,
708—Dick Merriwell’s Quirt. 71—F rank Merriwell’s Coward:
(Z
7

4
4
4:
4:
4
4
4

9

Fanenee

ae
fe

e
fe
Ti

od

694—
695—
696-

766 Youn

at Phantom

704—Dick Merriwell’s Freshman 772—Frank Merriwell’s Perplexity.
Friend. —Frank Merriwell’s
705—Dick Merriwell’s Best Form. tion.

Mind.

of

Return

Assistance.

Diamond

Ter-

Again- on the

Six-in-hand

Rattle-

of 806-—~Dick

739—Dick Merriwell’s Masked En- 999__frank

—Dick Merriwell at Forest Lake

tock-

Merriwell’s Understand-

Youns

Interven- 841

Frank Merniwell’s Daring Deed
—Frank Merriwell’s Succor.
—I‘rank Merriwell’s Wit.
Fri ink Merriwell’s Loyalty.
—Frank Merriwell’s Bold Play.
9—Fr ank Merriwell’s Insight.

J—F rank Merriwell’s Guile.
181 ank Merriwell’s Campaign.
782—Frank Merriwell in the Na-

tional Forest.
3—Frank Merriwell’s Tenacity.
—Dick Merriwell’s Self-sacrifice.
Dick Merriwell’s Close Shave.
86- _Dic k Merriwell’s Perception.
—Dick Merriwell’s Mysterious
Disappearance.
7T88—Dick Merriwell’s
Work.
Dick Merriwell’s Proof.
Dick Merriwell’s Brain Work.
-Dick Merriwell’s Queer Case.
—Dick Merriwell, Navigator.
—Dick Merriwell’s Good Iellow-
ship.
-Dick Merriwell’s Fun.
—~Dick Merriwell’s Commence-
ment.
796—Dick Merriwell
Point.
e 797—Dick Merriwell, Mediator.
7T9S—Dick Merriwell’s Decision.
799—Dick Merriwell on the
Lakes.
800—Dick Merriwell
ping.
801—Dick Merriwell in the Copper
Country.
€ 802—-Dick Merriwell Strapped.
803—Dick Merriwell’s Coolness.

r

BLEED

Detective

789-
TNO—
791
192
T93-

e
Ss

794
T9d5—
e

at Montauk

e é Great

Caught Nap-

of 804—Dic *k Merriwell’s Reliance.

Mate.
Young

805-~Dick Merriwell's College
Merriwell’s
Pitcher,
807T—Dick Merriwell’s Prodding.
S8O8—Frank Merriwell’s Boy.
Merriwell’s Interfer-
ence,
810—F rank Merriwell’s
Warriors.
811—Trank Merriwell’s Appraisal.
812—Frank Merriwell’s Forgiveness
813—Frank Merriwell’s Lads.
814—F rank Merriwell’s
Aviators.
815—Frank Merriwell’s Hot-head.
816—Dick Merriwell, Diplomat.
817—Dick Merriwell in Panama.
818—Dick Merriwell’s Perseverance.
819 —Dick Merriwell Triumphant.
820—Dick Merriwell’s Betrayal.
°1—Dick Merriwell, Revolutionist.
2—Dick Merriwell’s Fortitude.
8—Dick Merriwell’s Undoing.
24—Dick Merriwell, Universal
Coach.
825—Dick Merriwell’s Snare.
§26—Dick Merriwell’s Star Pupil.
827—Dick Merriwell’s Astuteness.
828—Dic k
bility.
°9—Dick Merriwell’s Plan.
0—Dick Merriwell’s Warning.
—Dick Merriwell’s Counsel.
—Dick Merriwell’s Champions.
—Dick Merriwell’s Marksmen.
—Dick Merriwell’s Enthusiasm.
—Dick Merriwell’s Solution.
Dick Merriwell’s Foreign
—Dick Merriwell and the
lisle Warriors.
Dick Merriwell’s Battle for the
Blue.
~Dick Merriwell’s Evidence.
Dick Merriwell’s Device.
-Dick Merriwell’s Princeton Op-
ponents.

Young

Young

:
8%
82
ag

Merriwell’s Responsi-

1

M )
_

a
en

o
5

Foe,
Car-

8
Qs
Rs
Rs
gs
g:
8:
&
SS

»(
»
>
)
v6
»
>
>»
>
)
>
>
>
>
on
»

rea
ge

38-

R39
R40,

 

PRICE, FIVE CENTS PER COPY

If you want any back numbers of our weeklies and cannot procure them from your news-dealer, they can be obtained direct

from this office. Postage-stamps taken the same as money.

STREET & SMITH, PUBLISHERS, 79-89 SEVENTH AVE., NEW YORK