No.110 NEW F Cents IP-TOP WEEKLY EPTEMBER 5 ,1914 FRANK MERRIWELL artue COWBOY CARNIVAL or Old Friends Meet Again a STREET AND SMITH +: + PUBLISHERS --: ‘ NEW. YOu. named Gallup.” An Ideal Publication For The American Youth Issued Weekly. Entered as Second-class Matter at the New York Post Office, according to an act of Congress, March , 1819. Published by STREET & SMITH, 79-89 Seventh Ave., New York. Copyright, 1914, by STREET & SMITH. O. G. Smith and G. C. Smith, Proprietors. Terms to NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY Mail Subscribers. (Postage Free.) ; Single Copies or Back Numbers, 5c. Each. BMRA isdn isis caneoaseces's BEC. ONG VEAL wees cceveecegace seceve $2.50 Receipts—Receipt of your remittance is acknowledged by proper 4 MONS, -..... cecccecccccoess SHC, 2 COPIES ONE VOAL .-cseees eecceess 4.00 change of number on your label. If not correct you have not been UNI 4.55 suicmi oper aanee $1.25 1 copy two years....---.--.eeee- 4.00 properly credited, and should let us know at once. How to Send Money—By post-office or express money order, regis- tered letter, bank check or draft, at our risk. At your own risk ifsent by currency, coin, or postage stamps in ordinary letter. No. 110. By BURT L. _CHAPTER I. OLD FRIENDS MEET. The tall, lank Yankee, walking through the hall at a swinging gait, ran so heavily against the moon-faced German, at the turn of the corner, that both were thrown to the floor. “Yeou confaounded Dutch cabbige head,” the Yankee howled, in his wrath, “why didn’t yeou-—” “Vhy ton’dt you seen me vhen you are looking?” the German howled back at him, interrupting. “Why in thutter don’t yeou——” “Yaw! Vhy ton’dt you? Dot iss der kvestion I am asking: meinsellef!- Vhy ton’dt you loogk at me when I am-——” “Yeou barrel of saurkraut——” “You string uff sissage!” a ‘Against the walls, opposite each other, they sat, flat on “the floor, hurling. broken objurgations. — ate “T was comin’ along frum my room right there——” “Undt my room vos coming along by me——” *“Yeou Dutch gob o’ fat—yeou’ve got jest abaout as much sense as”—he was staring hard now at the Ger- man—“as another fool Dutchman thet I knowed once, named Dunnerwust; he wuz the biggest——” The German’s eyes widened and stared. “Undt der piggest fool vot I effer knew vos a Yankee “Gallup! frum Var- ‘mount——” “Unt Hans Dunnerwust iss me—from efery blace.” _ “What ?” : eee. ack: Bit “Be yeou Hans Dunnerwust?” Thet’s. me—Ephraum Gallup, ~ NEW YORK, September 5, 1914. Price Five Cents. Frank Merriwell at the Cowboy Carnival; Or, OLD FRIENDS MEET AGAIN. i ¢ wore STANDISH. “Yoost so sure aul dm nodt Efy Gallup—dot Yankee fool.” “Say, Hans—shake !” “All right—I vill shake you!” Still flat on the floor, but laughing now, they joined hands solemnly across the hall and “pumped.” “Efy!” “Hans !” “Dis iss der habbiest moment uff your lifedimes, ain’dt idt ?” “Whut yeou doin’ here, yeo old. Dutch cheese?” “T haf come dhis town by to seen Frankie Merriwell.” “Me, too!” “Undt dhis hodel come.” “T guess thet’s right—a good part o’ this hotel is stop- pin’ in -yeou, frum the looks. Dunnerwust, yeou’re fatter’n even yeou useter be.” ie “Undt you are more as a telegraph pole as you didn’t — vos pefore.” “Shake ag’in! Thutter, this makes me feel like cryin “Oh, dose vos der habby days vot ve hadt in der goot oldt summer dime, lang sighifi’—ain’dt it? Vhen I tink apoudt yot I vos, unt vot you vosn’t, idt makes me tears.” They were shaking hands again. “Shall we rise to ther occasion, Hans?” The grip of the hands tightened, and with feet braced against each other, they drew themselves to standing posi- tions. Gallup’s long arm wentround the German’s shoulder. ie “Dunnerwust, I’d ’a’ walked a hundred miles jes for — this meetin’—to say nothin’ o’ the chanct of seein’ Merri- well. When’d yeou git in?” SF “Der train got me off by der station here dhis after- iss stobbin’ in me until he has 29 NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY. noon, I am lifin’ by dot town in now.” “And I’ve been aout in Denver this summer, and aout in the mountains, playin’ miner. Yeou ain’t rich yit, Hans?” “Nein. Der richness go py der odder side uff me all der dimes; I haf a vamily.” “What ?” “Oh, sure. You remember Katrina?” “Thet Dutch dummie of a girl whut yeou met in Princeton ?” Hans drew away. “Vot iss your meanness by dot? me. alreadty yedt.” “Aw, say—I didn’t mean anything; I was thinkin’ of another girl. Say, Hans, come into my room, where we can talk.” Dunnerwust toddled after Gallup into his room, flung himself, with a sigh, into a chair. “So you married Katrina?’ said Gallup, taking another chair. | “Der girl mit der eyes uff Yale plue—yaw. hantsome as I am yedt; unt der childer——” “They're hantsome, too, I bet.” “Dey yoost loogk like me.” “Gosh, I'd like to see ’em, then.” “Oh, I vish dot you couldt. You are marriet, too?” “Naw! Wouldn’t any gal look at me—I’m too humly; I ain't got yeoure beauty.” “You are making fun by me?” “Naw! Recklect thet time in Princeton when we was strapped, and was tryin’ to pull in some money. by sellin’ soap and singin’ on the street? You sung a song abaout Katrina.” “Yaw! TI can 5 idt now.” Gallup laughed. “IT reckon they’d pitch ye aout o’ this hotel if yeou _ did.” “Undt do you rememper when ve hadt der show, undt vos an acdor?” “T'll never fergit it.” Mi a “Der fairst dime I vos an acdot I vos blay der bart uff » der hindt legs uff an elefundt.” -“Veou done it well, too.” “Undt der nexdt dime I blay der bart uff a lifin’ skele- Goal? ig POW “Haw, haw!” Gallup roared. frum Kansas Ceety; She iss marriet by land She iss as * “And so much fat ori yeou that yeou couldn’t hardly walk.” “Budt der beople didn’t know dot undil afder ve hadt der money. Oh dhem vos habby dimes!” “The dimes was all right—helped pay ther bills.” “We slapped Hans on the shoulder, “Say, meetin’ with yeou makes me feel as foolish as a boy.” “Undt idt makes me veel as voolish as you are.” “Thet so? Yes, I reckon it does.” “Meppy. by. der nexdt train in Frankie will be caming.” “Tl die of joy. Say, let’s go. .down and -ha’nt .the station.” “Dot ‘vill suidt me. eh Ton’dt you vish you, undt me, vos i Satins dot True Plue Soap again? “Well, thutter, there ain’dt nothin’ to hender us, if we This ain’t so. big a taown as Rriscetoe, ; ranted to do it. the Panama Canal, so I heard. Makin’ a big stir aout in these parts, ain’t he? Thet’s haow I got in connection with him. I writ to him, daown in Phoenix; and he told me about this, and said he’d like to meet me.” “Idt vos in der Kansas Ceety bapers dot I gidt his. name undt undress.” “And yeou writ him, too?” “I made Katrina do der underhandwriting; she iss do idt peautiful. Undt Frankie, he say he vouldt like to see me by der memories uff der oldt dime; undt so I am here.” “Wonder if any o’ ther fellers can be hangin’ round any- where? Might be, yeou know. Buck Badger’s some- wheres in Kansas, and right here we’re on ther Kansas- Colorado line. And there. was thet caowboy frum Buck’s ranch whut come to Yale on a visit—the feller whut was such a terror with the rope; Bill Higgins—thet’s the name; he might turn up, tew, yeou know!” “Yaw. Uff he seen me, he vouldt like idt. habby dimes!” “Buck is married.” “Oh, yaw. So iss. Fratkie. an der yellers vot-iss some accounting iss get catched oop.” “Haw, haw! * Hitting me hard,:ain’t yeou?: ‘Come along, | and let’s go daown to the station. Wonder if Frank would know us?” “Nodt unless ve vos selling der soap uff der True Plue- ness, undt singin’ py der streedt in. Dot vouldt make: him ‘recomemper.” iene Oh, dose a “Hanged if I ain’dt a’ notion to try it—right out in Ca we could h’ist a blue flag i front of the station! Say, over our dry-goods box, and be tunin’ up and sellin” ; Yale soap. tew beat the band, jes when he stepped off the train.” ; With their arms round each other, they walked through oe the hall and down to the street. ae “Vot iss. dhis Cowpoy. Carnifal vot I see me by der — adwertisements ?” ie “Oh, yeou don’t know! Say, thet’s ‘goin’ tew bring a big craowd here, I allaow. Goin’ tew be. old-time caow- boy contests, ridin’. ropin’, all ther frills and fringes— — like whut they: useter have out here on ther plains before , the cattle bizness petered aout.” ; “Vhy. dit- idt ?” “Wall,. times-change, ye ‘know, - same’s we do, come in, an’ the cattle bizness had to git aout. Settlers _ The new. man, tuck the land fer farms, and.they’re tryin’ tew raise sugar beets and alfalfy, instead of longhorns.. More fun_ in. the longhorns, though. Oh, I bet. ye, Buck and Bill. Higgins will sure be here; yeou’d. have to tie "em tew keep ’em away frum a caowboy contest!” ” hand; the streets were still filled, at the sides, with the native buffalo grass. Whole streets, lined with tents, were occupied by Mexicans employed in the sugar-beet: fields. “They got tew have plenty of irrigatin’ water fer th *ere beets,” Gallup. explained, “and they ain’t gittin it; the, summer. has been ‘most a failure. The farmers. festhee don’t, see whut he%é can do, . though, aie: yeou ola “You said dot he yos a ditch to. dig.” . “Thet’s a8%,, mebby j ut where's. ther water ? P”. Fs NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY. 3 “It vill be by der ditch in. as I used to been, ain’dt 1dt?” “It will be in ther ditch, if they can git it; but if ther water ain’t here already, where’s it comin’ frum? Thet’s the question thet is to be put up to Frank Merriwell.” “He vill exblanadion dot. Idt iss easy.” - “Haow ?” “Oh, ‘I ton’dt know how. You ask heem vhen he iss came here. Frankie iss neffer fall down by der job.” “Thet’s right. Waal, here’s a store. Let’s go in and look over ther soap supply. We might try thet soap sellin’, ye know. Wonder if they’ve got any blue soap in here?” “Ach! I am veeping mine eyes in again vhen dose habby dimes dhink uff me yedt. Idt iss making a poys uff me. Dot Yale plue soap! Ve vos selling idt by der town uff Brinceton in, vare my Katrira is lifing, vhen Frankie undt der Yale vellers come to Princeton to blay der Tigers by der ball uff der foot. I can seen idt kickin’ ‘Frankie now.” “Aw, football is great! “Tdt iss greater.” “By chaowder, there ain’t ary other game like it. Oh, say, wouldn’t yeou jes like tew see Rone Merriwell pitchin’ ag’in?” “Yaw. Vhen he iss blay der hot pitch der ball, idt __gatches on fire. Undt der fun vot goes alongside uff me sometimes vhen der game iss 6n! Do you rememper, Efy, dot dime vhen he iss pitching, undt der Yale pulltog idt chew oop der Crimson banner? Vhen I seen idt I am laughing so dot I am deadt alreadty yedt.” “Haw, haw! Thutter, wa’n’t thet some fun?” “Der Harvardt veller vot iss vaving der banner, he iss _ kick der Yale pulldog mascot, undt idt pite him by der leg.” ie _ “And then there was a free fight all raound. Haw, haw! Merry said thet the crimson was sure ter win, fer it was all over the graound.” “But idt ditn’t.” _ “Naw! Sure now.” “Dot vos yoost an arit’metic uff sbeech.” “Haw, haw! Figger o’ speech, ye mean. Hans, ain’dt yeou?” “Undt you are der same big fool Efy. Idt iss der _ foolishnessess vot make us habby. Now dot ve are oldt -undt insensible——” . _ “Haw, haw! Same old Hans! Efy, you 3re as big a fool And baseball!” Same ole Let’s go inside and take ; a look at ther soap.” “T am mit you. Uff ve sell dot soap by der street in, I vill sing me again about Katrina, pefore I am marriet. Oh, dose vos der habby dimes.” , CHAPTER II. A YALE WELCOME. _ Close by the Santa Fe railroad station Gallup and Dun- -merwust set up their dry-goods box, heaped on it the cubes of soap wrapped in blue paper, and hoisted over it a blue flag; on which Gallup had pinned a big white Y. They had hired a gasoline torch, and it was flaring in the gathering darkness as Gallup, mounting to the top of the box, began his old-time spieling. The town was filled with strangers; all the hotels were overflowing. The much-heralded Cowboy Carnival was : ene them. In addition, there was a large and hetero- 0’ this town o’ Skyline. zZeneous resident population, dependent on the sugar-beet industry—laborers in the beet fields and employees of the sugar factory. And, as the hour was early, and the time approached for the arrival of the California Express, a big crowd was down at the station, which every one here called the “depot.” So Gallup had ‘no trouble in drawing people about him. In the old days he had been a success as a “barker,” and his voice had not lost its cunning. “Ladies and gentlemen, this ’ere cube o’ blue which I hold in my hand is the greatest compaound ever com- paounded fer the purposes fer which it wuz made. If there’s a stain onto yeour clothing, it will take it aout. If there aire black spots darkening and disfigurin’ yeour character, it will wash ’em white as snow. Rub it plenti- ful on yeour face three times a day, with water, and yeou will have a complexion like the lily o’ the valley; scour yeour cheeks with it, and it will give yeou the bloom o’ youth. Oh, the wonders thet it will perform, jest give it a chance, are too numerical too enumerate. “I knew a man onct who felt so bad because another man had paid him too much money thet he couldn’t sleep over it. He don’t live in yeour town, understand—I never throw bricks. The people of this beautiful taown of Sky- line, settin’ here on this golden path, with nothin’ between it and the horizon but prairie ozone, wouldn’t harbor a man whut would cheat his neighbors; I know thet right well, jest by lookin’ into yeour honest faces. But if there should be a stranger here what has pains in his con- science—— I was goin’ tew tell yeou abaout thet man. “He bought four -o’ these ’ere cubes o’ blue soap; and before he had used ’em up, ladies and gentlemen, he had even forgot the name of the man who had accidentally overpaid him. “Naow, if it will do this——” Gallup’s rhetoric was rudely interrupted. A man wearing a black coat, with a star shining on his breast, came galloping up. “Yere,” he shouted, “what you doin’? I’m yere to say to you that you ain’t took out no license, and you can’t go on with this sale on the streets. I’m the marshal, and——” Gallup stood with mouth open, staring, his hands filled with cubes of soap in blue wrappers. Dunnerwust, who had been sitting on the edge of the box, gave a sudden whoop of joy. “Efy, idt iss him!” “Say,” Gallup drawled, “bean’t yeou Bill Higgins?” “Right stranger, at the fust throw. I’m the marshal But I don’t know you, I reckon, and, anyway——” Gallup flung himself off the dry-goods box. “Higgins!” he yelled, stretching up a long arm. He whirled round. “Dunnerwust, yeou Dutch fool, come up here! Higgins—do yeou remember Yale?” Higgins was staring. “Yale!” he said. “Sure, I been to ‘that collige; went up there onct to see Buck Badger, when I was workin’ on old man Badger’s ranch; but what——” said Gallup. Say, “We met yeou there,” “Recklect Frank Merriwell ?” “Merriwell! I reckon. You friends of Merriwell?” “Old pards 0’ hisn. Come up here, Dunnerwust.” “Ym caming. Dhis man iss stepping by oe foot on, a Sg Sig J " ry NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY. Yaw! Hickins, | know you! I am Hans. Undt dhis iss der Yankee fool, Efy. Come down undt‘shake us.” Bill Higgins flung out of the saddle. He was rawboned and weather-beaten, a typical plainsman. And though dressed now in solemn black, that was dust-coated, he wore the high-heeled boots of the cowboy and big, rowelled spurs. “Shake!” he cried. “I recklect you fellers. Sure!” The crowd pressed round, looking and laughing. “Them was great days, when I was at Yale,” Higgins was saying, “I had my ole rope with me and gave an exhibition, I remember. Got it on my saddle right now. Say, I reckon you’re yere to see Merriwell. He’s due to ’rive on this train frum the West. That’s why the people aire gatherin’.. I ain’t seen him sense the last time. Oh, sure I know you! Shake ag’in.” “Wuz we vi'latin’ ther law?” said Gallup. “Fergit it,” said Higgins. “License is five street sellin’.” He took out a book, tore out a leaf, filled it in with a pencil, and handed it to Gallup. From one pocket of his trousers he produced a five-dollar bill, and deftly trans- ferred it to the other pocket. “License granted, and paid fer; made out in the name of Ephrum Gallup. Sell all ye want to; I hope you sell enough to wash the town away.” He mounted his horse, swung his lariat, and rode off up the street. Once dollars, ‘for more. Gallup mounted his dry-goods box and turned on the tap of his eloquence. When the Santa Fe train pulled in from the West, and Frank Merriwell, met by the delegation of leading citi- zens sent to make him welcome, walked down to the car- Tiages that were in waiting, Dunnerwust was on the dry- goods box, singing: “Dhere iss a sveet girl named Katrina, In all uff dhis vorlt dhere’s no finer; I lofe her so true, Mit her eyes uff Yale plue! Oh, she eadts lager peer vhen I dine hae She schmiles vhen her small handt' If skveeses, She iss plump as a sissage vot bleases, Vor her TI vouldt sigh, Undt vor her I vouldt die! Oh, yaw!—her preath idt iss sveeter as cheeses. Katrina’s der girl uff my treaming— Her plue eyes uff Yale on me beaming Makes my heardt full uff choy, Makes my——” Gallup broke into the song, standing up on the box, waving his hat and yelling: : » “Merriwell! Merriwell! Rah, rah, rah! Rah, rah, rah! Yale!” _ Frank Merriwell’s smiling dark eyes turned on the screeching Yankee and on the moon-faced German at his side—one yelling, the other singing, and on the Yale banner that fluttered over’ them. | “Stop the carriage!” he said, speaking to the man in— “There. are some old friends sof mine up there, b eure', and I should like to speak with them.” hen the great Frank Merriwell himself leaped out of ee came up to the ee box, there were real tears in the eyes of Ephraim Gallup and Hans Dunnerwust. : “Gallup ! hand. And in his own eyes there was more than a suspicion of moisture. Dunnerwust!” he said, and took them by the CHAPTER III. DUNNERWUST’S DISCOVERY. That was a great evening for Gallup and Dunnerwust, for Bill Higgins, and for Frank Merriwell himself. As soon as he could, Frank escaped from the Skyline reception committee and met Dunnerwust and Gallup in the latter’s room at the hotel, where all were stopping, and where, later, they were joined by Higgins. : The talk was all of the olden time—of Yale, and the — boys who had been there as students, and were scattered . to the four winds of the earth. “Jack Diamond is here,” Frank announced.. “I’ve had — some letters from him recently, and he wrote me that. he would be here. I saw his name on the hotel registér, and I went up to his room, on the floor below this, but — he wasn’t in.” “Diamond!” screeched Gallup “And I have hopes,” Frank added, ing and Buck Badger will be here. too. been engaged in engineering work in the mountains. Buck is on his Kansas ranch. Browning lives East, but has been plannirg tc spend the winter in California. I urged him to make his trip through a little ahead of time, so that he could stop off for the Skyline carnival.” “Dhey vill be glat vhen dey seen me,” Dunnerwust bubbled. “And there is to be another here—— Well. Tt hold that back as a surprise. Now, tell me all about your- selves.” They “talked the well dry,” thousand questions to ask and answer. stories innumerable, of all kinds. “Fer this one evenin’ this old town can run amuck, if it wants to,” said Higgins; “I ain’t goin’ out and patrol the ; streets, not ef I lose my job fer it. Frank, Merriwell and you fellers don’t bump into my trail ever’ ‘das in the week, recklect.” he “You haven’t been on Badger’s ranch lately?” lee Frank. mat “Not fer a long time. Ye see, it’s this way. biz is bu’sted up purty much in Kansas. "em so plenty as he done onct; no more o’ the range style oy os but these yee black, ponies is “that Bruce Brown- Higgins said. Each had a And there were of it is purty much gone. Buck, he hates the new as and so does Winnie: but—ye got to play fer the mart bids time cowboy like me; I moved on farder west. I’m marshal o’ this town. ed 3 round. And now, Merriwell, if he can “git, water fe 6 yere, where there ain’t no water ter git—-why we'll hav hull creation by the tail. We've got the sile yer and water, mix ‘em right, and it’s a combination | Dae And a million- dollar anee fact’ry ner yere, Diamond has _ NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY. Mexico, tew, to draw on fer laborers to work in the beet fields. Can ye beat it—sugar beet it?” He laughed at his own joke. “But, say—the old times wuz sure the best; that’s whatever!” It was late when they separated. Dunnerwust, tired and happy, went down into the hotel lobby with the others, walked round a bit, then climbed back upstairs. His weariness made him miss not only his room, but his floor; he turned in on the hall that was next lower down, and went to the door of the room corresponding in location with his own. He had locked his room, so was a bit Diifeea when he saw a man coming hurriedly out of it—a stranger. The door was unlocked. ..Idt iss funny. Dot mans he iss peen trying to steal me.” Still thinking this was his room, Dunnerwust entered hurriedly and switched on the lights. Then he saw his _ mistake. Looking about him in bewilderment, his eyes fell on a trunk by the wall that he knew was not his. The end toward him held a name in white lettering—the name of Jack Diamond. “Yack Diamondt!” he said, his eyes big and round. “IT am gedt me by der wrong room, undt idt iss Dia- - mondt’s.” .. Then he saw something else—the body of a man sprawled on the floor behind the trunk. Stepping over for a look, _he beheld a bloody face; the face of a dead man, he ” thought. “Deadt!” he gurgled. “Murderdt! Yack Diamondt!” He bent lower. It was a dark face, pallid now; a face refined in appearance. The red stain of blood disfigured it. “Tdt iss him! Yack Diamondt!” _ Dunnerwust tumbled out of the room, panting, wild- eyed, and frightened. He sped along the hall. Here he made another mistake, confused by his impression that _ he was on the floot above. The stairway he reached, at the end of this hall, was steeper than the one he had ; used before; had so sharp a drop, in fact, that Dunner- wust, trembling in his excitement and half blinded by his fright, stumbled; then went rolling heavily and with a ‘crash to the bottom. Hotel porters rushing to his aid, picked him up, un- - conscious, his head having struck against one of the. steps, in his descent. — Recognizing him, a summons was sent to Frank Mer- riwell, who was still in the lobby; and he came, with “Send for the best doctor you have in the town,” ‘Frank, | “and take him up to his room at once.’ He assisted, with Gallup, in helping to get the heavy ‘German to the room and in placing him on his bed. -Dunnerwust was regaining consciousness by this time. “Ooh!” he gurgled. “Deadt! Murderdt!” _ “Oh, no, you're all right,” said Frank: “you had a bad i, down the stairs, we think; but a doctor has been ao for. I’ve made an examination, and discovered no You're worth a dozen dead men, Dun- said “Undt you vos alvays as big a fool as I am.” His eyes looked into Merriwell’s. “Deadt! Murderdt!” he cried, then, starting up. “Oh, no—you “I am nodt sbeaking by myself yedt!” Dunnerwust tested. “Idt iss Yack Diamondt I am explanationing. iss deadt—murderdt! He iss——” “Diamond ?” “In his room by der vall, at der trunk, he iss lying deadt ; mit his face all bloodt. Dot iss vhy der stairs are falling down mit me, vhen I run to sbeak apoudt idt.” “Stay here, Gallup,” said Frank, and sprang to the door. The next moment he was running along the hall. He was in the hotel office, and calling to the clerk a minute after. “In Diamond’s room,” he said, bending over; “the Ger- man says that Diamond is lying in his room, dead. Send some men with me, or come yourself.” The night clerk came out, called to a porter, and the three hurried pp to Diamond’s room. They entered it. without delay, finding the door open. Frank and those with him looked about the room, and: were perplexed. There was no dead man lying on the floor, or anywhere else. Diamond’s trunk stood at one side, close to the wall, though with a small space behind it. The bed had not been disturbed. In the closet they found some of Diamond’s clothing, which he had taken from his trupk. The clerk, who had entered the room white-faced oat frightened, now’ laughed scornfully. “Your Dutchman had a‘ pipe dream,’ can’ see there is nothing here.” “Not a thing,” Merriwell admitted. But he could not at once bring himself to the belief that it had been a pipe dream. ’ he said. “You “that’s “Too much beer and limburger,” said the clerk; the way I size it up.” Merriwell hastened back to Dunnerwust’s room. — Dunnerwust’s eyes were wide and staring, and Gallup, who had waited impatiently, looked deathly pale. “All a mistake,” Frank announced. “Vot?” Dunnerwust came up out of the bed. Merriwell sat down beside him. - : “Now, see here, Hans,” he said, “tell me just what you saw—go over it slowly; or, are you sure that you saw anything?’ For I tell you there is no dead man in Dia- mond’s room. There is no one there, alive or dead. Diamond hasn’t got back yet. But you thought you saw something ?” Sehr “Vhy, I seend idt.” m. “IT understood that you thought so.” Or case “Nein! Idt vos not a t’ought so; idt vos a iss'so. I saw Yack Diamondt by der vall, lying, pack pehint der trunk, mit bloodt on his face, undt he vos deadt. Ton’dt — I know me vhen I seen idt? uff der room.” He explained about seeing the man. “But there is nothing in Diamond’s room.” 2: “Dhen he vos taken avay. Frankie, I know somet’ ing ‘ vhen I seen idt.” : “The clerk suggested that you abe bee enjoying, an : Undt a man vos caming oudt cari of beer and limburger.” Me a 3 Mee: Noa on ae lifedimes !, ‘No aoe NEW TIP. TOP WEEKLY. has eaden undt drinkt me to-nighdt. I haf peen stricdtly indemperate.” “Then, Dunnerwust, you must have been dreamin,” riwell insisted. “There was nothing in the room.” “How could idt? Idt vos nodt my room. Do I go to bed treaming mit somepody else’s? At fairst I t’ink idt iss my room; dhen I seen Yack Diamondt on der trunk, undt nexdt I seen him pehint it.” “The trunk was too close against the wall for a body to have lain behind it.” “Tdt has peen moved.. Dot vouldt been easyness, ain’dt idt? Der veller vot dake avay der body couldt at der sameness move der trunk. Dot iss der vay I explanadion idt.” He began to get off the bed. “No doctor vaidt for me eeny longer. dot room. Oof idt iss as you say——” “Your head ought to be bandaged-——” “Oh, dot makes noddings oudt! I ton’dt need idt. I am going to see me mit my owen eyes vot haf habbened to Yack Diamondt. He iss peen kilt, murderdt—undt I haf seen idt.” “Thutter,” Gallup gulped, so gs F “Ton’dt I know me vhen I seen me miensellef ?” “If Diamond wuz killed, and his body carried away——” “Dot iss yoost vot has habbened.” Clapping on his hat, Dunnerwust toddled out of the room, and was followed by Merriwell and Gallup. But he was confused when he reached the hall below and did not at first recognize Diamond’s door. Merriwell pointed it out. “Oh, yaw! -vheel; dot iss vhy I do nodt fecognidion idt fairst. iss der room.” They opened the door and entered. Dunnerwust stood staring about, when the tehts were turned on, and was plainly bewildered. He looked at the trunk, and the wall; then all round the room. “Dot trunk idt iss been moved,” he declared; “idt vos - sidding dhis vay oudt a liddle. Yoost you move idt oudt again.” : Merriwell moved it out. As he did so he glanced at the floor where it had rested. A red stain caught his eye. “Blood!” he said, and dropped down on his knees. “Now you are seening me—yoost vot I saidt! Dot iss vhere der body vos lying. He vos bleeding by der face.” Footstepswere heard in the hall, and the door opened, letting in the hotel proprietor. “Too bad about this yarn,” he said; informed me of it.” “There is blood on the floor here,” said Merriwell; “we discovered it when we moved the trunk over. Dunner- wust says the body was lying here.” “You mean he is lying here, There’s a bottle of red ink on that table, and you can see that it has been tipped ‘over; there’s where the red blood came from. I must say, gentlemen, that I don’t like to have a story like this about my house get out. So I must request you to stop it right here. You are the only ones who have heard it, except a few people connected with my establishment. I am going to “if whut Dunnerwust says is My headt idt iss so roundt like a vind- Dot “the clerk has just Mr. Diamond is all right, and will return presently, I Mer- | don’t doubt; at any rate, to-morrow. I think he went out into the country. He may have been detained——” Whether blood or ink, it was difficult to say—it was but a red smear on the carpet. Merriwell felt that it was better to withhold judgment; also, that the request of the proprietor was one that could be met in a manner. . “IT shall speak to Higgins about it, and endeavor to find out where Diamond is,” he said. “It does look as if Dunnerwust’s imagination ee “Tmatchination!” Dunnerwust snapped. “Do I imachine vot I ton’dt seen? Undt ton’dt I know vhen I am loogking adt idt?” “You must have been drinking,” said the hotel keeper. Merriwell sent for Higgins, and had a talk with him. Investigation revealed that early that evening Jack Dia- mond had walked out into the country. If he had re- turned, no one had observed him. Yet, unless he had some acquaintance to meet, there was nothing that should have detained him. It was long after midnight when Merriwell gave over his fruitless quest for information of Diamond. And he went to bed mentally distressed, for Dunnerwust to the last continued to declare that he had “seen idt.” , CHAPTER NV. DIAMOND’S DIAMONDS, A discovery that Dunnerwust and Gallup made, as they walked down to the station in the om brought them up with a jerk, gasping. In an open lot, close by the station, a peripatetic show- man had spread his canvas, with immense banners before it, announcing, in rainbow paint: “Diamond’s Diamonds and Stupendous Scenic Souvenirs of the Sunny South Vaudeville.” “Yiminy, vot iss?” Feet spread apart, hands in his pockets, Hans Dunner wust, staring at the flaming banners, gulped the question. “Chaowder, naow yeou’ve got me!”.. “Diamond’t diamondts.” “Thet’s whut it says.” “Yack Diamondt’s diamondts ?” “Naow yeou’ve got me ag’in. show bizness. He’d be tew praoud fer it. Diamond wuz the praoudest man——” “Budt he vos from der Soudth!” “An’ confaounded praoud of it, tew. Ef any man ever hinted thet the Saouth wa’n’t about the hull blame cheese, Diamond would be wantin’ tew climb him right there.” “He iss sdill lifing, uff dhis is him making a show uff | himsellef. Vot you say, Efy?” “Gosh, yes; we'll jest take it in. But it’s airly. Won- der where the ticket seller is? I got a quarter burnin’ holes in my pocket.” A man appeared at the ten opening. “Say, iss Diamondt making a show uff himsellef?” Dunnerwust shouted to him. “Uff he iss, ve want to seen idt.” jis v ‘Specialy, we want tew see him—Jack Diamond; we mean.’ yee “He has been kilt undt murt——” “Shet up on thet,” Gallup whispered. yeou got any sense at all in thet old cabbige head? did Merry say abaout—— “T am squashed.” He wa’n’t never in the Why, Jack “Squash it! Anite Whut it cs “Can we git in tew the show naow?” demanded Gallup of the man. it “I reckon, by payin’. Tickets aire a quarter. But the S show ain’t goin’ on now.” i “Iss Diamondt in idt?” Me “Well, he ain’t here right now; he’ll be round by and 0 z by.” i ae “Yaw. Dhen he iss lifin’?” The man laughed. € _- “Who said he wasn’t?” : o 4) *¥ dit. I—”" g . But Gallup had him by the ear, and began to lead him } away. —: “Vhy dit you make me foolish?” Dunnerwust demanded, 3 | when they were a short distance from the tent. i ‘| “The Lord done thet, Hans. Yeou wuz born thet way, and yeou keep gittin wuss an’ wuss. Don’t yeou recklect _ whut Merriwell said—thet we wuz jest tew look raound, and keep aour mouths shet? And there yeou went to r | Dlattin’ aout jest like an old sheep.” “You are a sheepisness yourself.” “Wall, come along ; quit yer fussin’. Fer goodness sakes, hush up! Yeou can be heard all over taown.” “Budt, Yack “Thet’s whut yeou aire—a yack; Naow, come; along before I git mad. and tell Merriwell about this. yeoure a jackass. We've got to go But I can’t believe this ’ere y _is-Jack Diamond’s show. Why, he wouldn’t 1 “Budt he mighdt—you'rememper der dimes, Efy, vhen _ der elefundt vos playing der bart uff hindt legs undt-—” A “Shet up! Thet’s differ’nt. Jack Diamond wa'n’t never 2 nobody’s fool, even fer money. Why, thet feller wuz thet : praoud——” 1 They walked up the sandy street, arguing and quarreling. Before the hotel they met Frank Merriwell. Dunner- wust rushed upon him. “Yack Diamondt——” _. “He hasn’t. appeared yet, Hans,” said Merriwell, with some concern. “I’ve been looking round; and some in- formation picked up leads me to think, that, instead of going into the country, he went away yesterday afternoon on the east-bound train.” “Budt down der streedt—he is making a showing uff himsellef.” - Merriwell turned to Gallup. _ “What’s this?” _. “Oh, there’s a tent show set up daown by the station, and it’s got Diamond’s name on it. Kinder knocked us crooked, when we seen it. But I can’t believe it is Jack _-Diamond. He wouldn’t never go into no two-by-twict - show. bizness like thet.” “Tt wouldn’t be like Diamond,” Frank a by the station, you say?” _ Together they walked down, and took a look at’ the banners before the tent. Merriwell laughed grimly.. “That’s a joke on Diamond,” he sommes “he'll be “hotter than a hornet when he sees this.” “Dhen he iss nodt here—he iss still uff a deadtness ?” “We're not going to believe that he is dead—unless we are compelled to. I don’t think he is. I’m hoping he will appear here this morning, when tie train on in ‘om the’ east.” ak a man ‘appeared in tHe tent: entrance—another aa) “Down NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY. banners? ? -ern- pride ada accent. came - uppermost. * South? - Great Pane til at: Dunnerwust began to hop and whisper, pulling at Mer- riwell’s sleeve. “Tdt iss him!” “He looks a little like Diamond; a little older than Jack ought to be, with an entirely different expression in his face and eyes.” “Dot iss nodt my meanness. Dot iss der man vot haf come oudt uff my room—oudt uff Jack Diamondt’s room, in der lasdt nighdt !” Bor “You saidt dot I vos seen noddings budt limpurger undt ia peer, vhen I seen him. Dot iss der man.” ; “Are you the proprietor?” Merriwell asked, forth, surmising that he was. “Yes, I’m the proprietor.” “Tf your show is as interesting as your banners, it ought to be worth seeing. We'll go in now, if you care to admit us.” “Show -ain’t- going on now, but you can go. in; the: vaudeyille comes this afternoon.” He pointed to. the. ban- ner on the right, announcing the vaudeville performance. “We show some mighty good acts. But you can see the wax figures now, and the Southern scenic views.” Merriwell produced the change, dropped it into the hands of the showman, and the three went inside. The proprietor followed them in and began to remove the canvas coverings from the wax figures. As he worked, he looked at Dunnerwust now and then—darting him a sharp glance. vs stepping RS cei hd we a A ee The wax figures were. horrors, of the sort usually s seen in such shows. The wonderful Southern scenic views were the penny-in-the-slot kind. Merriwell was looking at the showman, rather than at his show, without appear- ing to do so; paying little heed to the suppressed talk of Gallup and Dunnerwust, until Dunnerwust again pulled at his sleeve. With a frozen look of fear and horror Dunnerwust had stopped and was staring at one of the waxen images— that of a youngish man, of dark complexion, with a smear of blood on his forehead. 2 The showman bustled forward, to explain to Dunner- wust what had apparently caught his fancy: “Maximilian King, the victim of the mystery murder in Park Row, New York, last summer.” : Merriwell looked into Dunnerwust’s white face and Star=)- ing eyes. He saw, too, that the showman was regarding the German curiously. “Idt iss!” “Police completely baffled,” the showman was saying; “best detectives of New York at fault. They wouldn’t know his name, but that “he had a eerd in ‘his’ —_ with that on it—Maximilian King.” “Idt iss!” ye Gallup caught the German by the ties: mie he > “Come aout of it,” he was whispering; “yeou ain’t the show, tecklect. Whut did Merriwell say? An’ here ne "ee i gawpin’ like a wild man. Come aout.of it!”. ee Merriwell was talking..with the showman, covering this up. “Your name is Diacnoad, I ‘siippese: austiinnl by. your And you are ¢ from the South ?” . _“T have a-very 8 NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY. ie Jack Diamond. I am wondering if you could..be a rela- tive. He was from the South.” A shade passed over the dark face of the showman. “T think I don’t know him, -suh.” He glanced at Dunnerwust again, whom Gallup was leading on past the figure with the blood smear -on its forehead. ‘ Merriwell was wondering if he nabs to explain now the singular actions and words of Hans. Dunnerwust, which the showman had noticed. But he concluded to say nothing until after the arrival of the train from the east. It seemed that the showman. was to force it, however. “Your friend appears to have been worked up by the sight of King,” he said. Merriwell hesitated again. “Oh, he’s an excitable fellow,” he explained. Gallup and Dunnerwust passed on round, looking atethe figures, Gallup talking volubly. Merriwell met them at the exit, and they went out together. “Yeou big cabbige head, I—~” “Undt you are a pologny sissage! Vot dit I saidt?” | “Here, here!” said Merriwell. “Postpone it!” “Budt he saidt I am more uff a fool as he is, undt dot——” “Thutter, I feel like thumpin’ the tar aout o’-ye. Merry: fhe” “Postpone it. Fight it out later.” The proprietor had followed them, and stood in the entrance, looking out at them as,they hurried away. His face was drawn, and there was a queer look in his dark ‘eyes. “Yeou heard this barrel o’ saurkraut bubblin’ over in there, didn’t yeou?” Gallup demanded, when they were beyond earshot of the tent. “I wanted tew lam him. Yeou said fer us tew keep still, no matter whut——” “Undt you saidt dot I am a sissage.” “No! Yeou said thet I was, and-——” “Do you want me to hold your coats while you fight it out?” Merriwell demanded. “Cool down.” He bégan to question Dunnerwust. % “Dot vax vigger couldn’t peen him,” Dunnerwust ad- mitted; “budt idt loogk yoost like him. Undt der ploodt on der headt! I ton’dt can stand under idt. 7 CHAPTER V. JACK DIAMOND'S WRATH. When the Santa Fe flyer, from Kansas City, pulled into the station at Skyline that morning, Jack Diamond was aboard, and stepped into the midst of his friends, when he descended to the station platform. Diamond looked a little older, but otherwise he was un- changed; he was the dark, handsome, debonair youth of the old Yale days, arrived at manhood’s estate, with busi- | ness and other cares to oppress him, rather than the rival- ries and jealousies, the contests and sports, in which he had once mingled so actively. “Merry!” he said, his dark eyes shining as he took _ Frank Merriwell’s hand. “But you haven’t changed much,” he added. > “Well, you see, I’m a boy again here, with so many of the old crowd gathering,” Merriwell urged, smiling. “It does me @ world of good to see you, Jack. Here are some ¢ fellows aes will want to look, at.” Dunnerwust, his sturdy legs apart as if the better to balance his rotund body, was staring at Diamond. Gallup was standing beside Dunnerwust, a huge grin on his homely : Yankee face. Gallup came forward. “Idt.iss him!” Dunnerwust was muttering, as-if he could not. believe it. “tos et “You here, Gallup?» Give me your hand, _And—sure, this is Dunnerwust. You Dutchman—I’m glad to see you! What are you staring at? Think I’m a ghost? Well—it has been a long time.” “Budt—yot: are deadt!” “Well, I have thought that sometimes myself—that I’m a dead one!” “You ain’dt deadt?” “Oh, come! Say that you’re glad to see me.” caught Dunnerwust by the hand. “Yaw! Iam a habbyness dot I am sdill lifing, undt dot you ain’dt deadt. Budt I seen idt.” “Bats in his garret—thet’s whut’s the matter with Hans,” said Gallup; “he says he seen ye layin’ dead in yeou’re room last night, and I reckon it hurts him tew know thet ee : Ei he ’magined it.” . @ a. 9 ee to ee He Dunnerwust, though shaking hands with Diamond, was | still staring at him with the solemnity of an dwl. % “Budt I seen idt,” he repeated; “mit bloodt on idts headt, pehint der trunk. Uff you are deadt pehint der trunk, vhy are you lifin’, undt here? Answer me dot kvestion pefore I am a insane asylum. Dhen I vill shake eis os me you habby by der handt.” “Well, shake, anyway; I don’t know what you're talking about. How are you?” “T am marriet.” “Good !” “Budt der kvestion pefore der haus is: Uff you are lifiing, vhy you nodt deadt?” “Oh, I’ve lived along, Hans, just to be on hand here © to-day—to meet Merry and you fellows.” He turned to — Merriwell. “Merry——” “Dianrond !” ; “Some others of the old gang will be here, you say?” “I’m hoping so. I’m looking for Bruce Browning; and Buck Badger and his wife may come on, Buck wrote me, if they can get away.” ie “Let me see! Oh, yes; he married Winnie Lee. I re- member all about that now. Winnie’s father was a proud old duck, that didn’t want his daughter to unite her for- tunes.with the son of a Western ranchman, and there — were warm times on account of it, Buck was a terror when he first came to Yale, wasn’t he—before you tamed him? Well, I shall be glad to see him. But your wife is going to be jealous, if Winnie comes on here—eh, — Merry? Still, I don’t know. Inza,/was a mighty sensible — girl. And the son—your son! Say, I’ve been hearing about him. Going to beat his dad all hollow—I heard a man saying not long ago; he had been down to Arizona just before -I had a talk with him. Young Frank had pulled off some wonder stunts down there, he told me” They walked up the street, all talking; the street rang with their reminiscent jokes and laughter. a Nothing had been said about “Diamond’s Diamo ds,” chiefly because there had not been time or chance to edge in anything but the natural comment that grew out of the meeting at the station. : _ orable name of Diamond! what I want. the weapons, and meet me. . Frank urged. “T’ve just been up the road to stop this,” he said, his voice trembling, “and missed it; and here it is!” The showman had come to the tent entrance. mond’s dark eyes began to burn. “The insufferable insolence of it! I heard this thing was coming here, and I meant to pay the fellow to pass this town up and go somewhere else. I’d have given him a thousand dollars to do it.” Dunnerwust was tugging at his arm. “Idt iss in dhere—nodt idt, but der odder— “I think we’d better walk on,” said Merriwell, seeing that Diamond’s safety valve was working loose. “I wanted to tell you about this. There is a thing connected with it that we'll talk over—about that dead man Dunnerwust says he saw in your room last night, and the image with the blood smear, in that tent.” The hot-headed Southerner did not hear him. His dark eyes glaring, his lips twitching, his face purple, Jack Diamond moved on the showman in the entrance, “You’re here!” he snarled. “It isn’t enough that you should go about the country disgracing the name of Dia- mond; but you had to come here, at this time! You contemptible puppy——” Before Merriwell could reach him and prevent it, Jack Diamond’s fingers shot out and tweaked the showman’s nose. The man in the ‘entrance fell back, his face white. “Oh, I know you!” he cried. “Well, you'll settle for this!” “Correct!” said Diamond. “That’s what I want.” He was reaching for the showman’s nose again, when Dia- ' Frank Merriwell restrained him. “Come, Diamond—this will not do!” “Oh, won’t it?” said Diamond. “Do you know who this creature is? His name is Diamond, I’m sorry to say, though I never met him before; he claims to belong to our family—a forty-second cousin, or something like it; but we refuse to recognize him. He says he is a Southerner; but he was born in New York, and not on Fifth Avenue, either. Oh, I’ve heard of him. As I told you, I went up the road to try to stop this——” “You'll settle for this,” the man was saying, wiping his nose with his white handkerchief, then looking for the ex- pected bloodstain; “I’ll have it out with you for this.” “Is that a challenge? I hope it is. I’d like to fight you, Tom Diamond. Faugh! it gives a bad taste to my mouth to apply the name of Diamond to you—the hon- I hope it’s a challenge. That's. Meet you any place, in any wars name You're afraid to do it.” “Come away!” Merriwell begged. Fairly dragging Diamond from his feet, he at last drew \ him on, “The coward won’t fight me,” ‘said Diamond; “but I. wish he would.” “Dueling is not allowed in this country, you know,” “Forget it.” “That insult to the family name! And he calls himself a Southerner! Tl never forget it.” _ But he grew calmer, as the tent and the offensive show- _ man were left behind, and began to talk in a saner strain. “You always were a Southern hotspur,” well; “but I thought that ime would cool you. said Merri- It has NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY. Dunnerwust and Gallup were at their heels as they made their way along the street. To change the current of Diamond’s thoughts, Merriwell called his attention to the big advertisements appearing everywhere, of the great Cowboy Carnival. “We're going to have a huge time here,” he said. “But, of course, I’m here for work. All the same, I'll haye to see the carnival. And if Buck and Winnie come, and Browning——” But. Jack Diamond could not be drawn away so readily from the subject that annoyed him. “Why, just suppose the name on those banners was Merriwell?” he urged. “Would you stand for it?” “Why not? If the name belonged to the showman; he would have as much right to use the name as I would, if it was also his.” . Dunnerwust was cutting in, as he had been trying to do all the way along. “Vhill you explanadion idt?” he urged. “You are deadt pehint der trunk, undt you are lifing oudt here! Yaw! I seen dot; budt nodt how idt iss.” ‘ ‘Frank Merriwell began an explanation—to Diamond; and told the story from the beginning. “That’s queer,” said Diamond. “It must have been my room, since my trunk was in it. But I thought I locked it. And you say, Dunnerwurst, that you saw this other Diamond coming out off it?” “Sure, I dit.” “You couldn’t have so mistaken about that?” “Nodt on your photografting! I am nodt trunk, nor treaming- apoudt fairies mit silver vings, neidher; I am seening t’ings mit my owen eyes. Undt vhen I seen ’em I knowed idt.” “You hadn’t been drinking, Hans?” “Dhere idt iss again. Sure I hadt nodt. I am stricdtly intemperate. I thinks me a kvart uff peer in der morn- ings, vhen I am by my owen home; undt anodder vhen I eadts my dinner; undt von or two at nighdt; but, odder- vise—— Well, I ton’dt neffer make a hawg uff mein- sellef.” “Strictly intemperate! I guess that’s right, Hans. How many quarts did you drink before you saw the dead man?’ “Nodt efen von. Idt-iss indoxicadion enough for me vhen I seen Frankie Merriwell; I ton’dt needt. anyt’ing else.” Diamond laughed. He was beginning to be himself again. “Tt does stir the blood, Hans;” he said; “to see Mer- riwell:: I don’t know what to make of -your dead-man mystery. Tom Diamond, or any man who would disgrace the name as he is doing, would do anything; I’m convinced of that. You’re going to make me lose my beauty sleep to-night, Hans. bling me!” “Yoost like you, undt yoost like dot image in der show.” ; “Well, perhaps it was that image, then. It got into my room by mistake. I'll guarantee that we'll find that this Tom Diamond has a room close beside mine. If that’s so, I see the conclusion of the mystery. He mis- took my room for his, just as you did; and left the wax figures there; then discovered his mistake, and got it out while Merriwell and the others. were, working to. bring ; you round, after you got that tumble.” aie I wish I hadn’t heard that story. Ugh! — A dead man behind my trunk; and that dead man resem- __ ‘10 NEW. TIP “That’s: the solution which has been coming to me— suggesting itself, ever I saw that. image,” said Merry. “Faught ..Everything turns to, and on, that show! It makes me .want to get out of this town before I am fairly in it.” “Forget, it!” said Merriwell. Some-men passing, one of them pointed to Pinnen sedi: “There goes the feller that thought he was singin’, down by the station !” “Go chase-me yoursellef!” Dunnerwust flared at him. “I vosn’t singin’ ‘Down By Der Station’; I vos singin’ uff Katrina. You vouldn’t abbreciate a handt organ mit six- deen monkeys siddin on dop uff idt. You ton’dt know music vhen you heardt me.” “Oh, Katrina—— Dunnerwurst began to roll his sleeves. “Uff you vants.der stuffin’s kicked oudt uff me—— “Come along,” said Merriwell. He yanked him on. Jack Diamond. was forgetting his anger—his eyes were twinkling, since ” ” he commented. be_ sad,” CHAPTER VI. THE COWBOY CARNIVAL. . The surprise that Frank Merriwell had hinted at, in talk- ing with Gallup and Dunnerwust, was that Inza Burrage _ Merriwell was to join him, Inza arrived on the Santa Fe flyer from the east, the hext day, and was‘ accompanied by Buck and Winnie Badger and by old Bruce Browning, “the laziest man that ever came out of Yale.” Inza’s dark eyes were as youthfully bright, and the roses still bloomed in her cheeks, as in days of yore; though it could not be denied that she’ was noticeably _ older, as became the mother of a lusty young fellow like Frank Merriwell, junior. Buck Badger was the same heavy-shouldered Westerner, _ many of his rough edges rubbed smooth by education and _ by the fact that he had now been married a number of years to the very fine woman who had once been the jolly and light-hearted Winifred Lee; the Winnie Lee, of ‘the good old days, at one time even more than a warm friend to Frank Merriwell himself. And Browning—good old Bruce; too lazy to move, ex- cept when imperative necessity demanded; then horses 4 could not be stronger nor chain lightning quicker. He was round and fat, with a thick voice, and a thick, hearty laugh, that bubbled and bubbled—the easy, joyous laugh of the good-hearted fat man. “Merriwell!” he wheezed, gripping Frank by the hand with as much strength as if he were getting ready for a hammer throw. “I’ve dreamed of this day—I’ve dreamed of it!” He looked round. “And here is Gallup! And Dunnerwust! And, yes—Jack Diamond! Jack, old boy~— how are you? Got into a fight yet? I’ll warrant that you have.” His laugh gurgled again like a fountain. ¢ zen they were all out in the ‘ ‘stadium,” at the farther 4OoPp WEEKLY, ° 6 a ‘ing throngs. “T can. see that with Dunnerwust here we’re sure not to capacity; for it was expected that a tremendous crowd would be in attendance. All up. and down the line of the Santa Fe railroad glowing advertisements of the great Cowboy Carnival at Skyline had been scattered, thick as the leaves of Vallam- brosa; even the big mogul-engines had carried them as streamers, for every increase in the number who went by rail increased the revenues. of the passenger depart- ment. - And the people had come; from Kansas and Coloradoy even from Nebraska and Texas. Bill Higgins, as marshal, and general manager of the cowboy sports, was in his element. Resplendent in new cowboy clothing, big white hat flared back from his grim face, lariat swinging at his saddle, he galloped to. and fro, giving orders and bawling instructions. The ropers and the riders weré there; the best the West ise afforded, men and women; with a fie Mexican and In- oe dian masters of the roping art, to give a touch of the romantic and picturesque. Down by the station “Diamond’s Diamonds” were draw- — But’ Frank Merriwell had kept Jack Dia- mond away from the station, and now had him in the stadium as a member of the Merriwell party. Parenthetically, it may be stated that Jack Diamond’s surmise that Tom Diamond had a room which adjoined his, in the hotel, was found to be true, That is, it was true for’a little while; but only until Jack could summon the hotel owner and demand another room, which ‘was promptly furnished. gia Jack Diamond was now hopefully waiting for: Tom Dig es mond. to send him a challenge. is “Yere! Yere!” Bill Higgins began to bellow.. He was riding back and forth through the center of the amphi- theater. “The cowboy sports an’ contests which has been © advertised is now about to be put on the stage, You feller over there—set down and stop hollerin’ while ’'m makin’ this speech! As I was a-sayin’, ladies and genel- man, when that galoot butted in—no pain has been spared to git together yere on this boundin’ perairie a bouquet : of the choicest flowers of the ropin’-and-ridin’ world, with | gunwork and shootin’ throwed in. Alkali Pete, of Wyom-— ing, ain’t got an ekal, I reckon, when it comes to stringin’ hs a sixty-foot reata. And as fer shootin’ the chutes'on the © deck of a buckin’ broncho, there’s a Texican yere named Tanner that is willin’ to throw the gantlet down to the hull of creation. He'll be ketchin your eye by and by, on a black broncho that’s got more chili concarni under his black hide than any hoss any rider ever straddled. But the fust thing on ther programmy is a ridin’ contest, called , Pluckin’ the Hat.” Higgins wheeled his horse round with a twist that spun it about on its hind legs as if it tried to do a waltz; — his big hat came off, and was wavthg as the forefeet Of am the horse struck the ground. “Whee-ee-ce!” he yelled. “Yip! Yip!’—it was the elds’ time, high-keyed “Yip” of the cowboy. “Git into gear!” Ps _A half dozen ae riders paenes into the arena, rid yo oy Boat a aE wheel, stoppiniy near one end of- the amphitheater. ot om !” he shrilled. o Wd oe their saddles as they swung round it, with their bronchos a at a tight jump, and tried to pick it off the ground. ad : - Several struck it with their fingers; one caught it and at dropped it; but in the second round the third man from ae the leader clung to it. Righting himself, he rode up to AS Higgins and returned the hat. nt “Mr. Wall-eyed Thompson o. Newbrasky, takes the blue tn ribbon in the hat-pluckin’ contest,” Higgins announced gravely, as he pinned a string of blue ribbon on the alae ' winner’s arm. ome Higgins spun the hat from him again, in the same : / | fashion. m ¢ “Yip!” fs ee Another group of wild ders flashed forth, swinging Ke lariats, and, riding swiftly past the big white hat, tried ne) _. to pluck it from the ground with their ropes. te Time and again they struck it, the ropes sliding off or | over it; then the “Texican” settled the supple coil of his noose round the crown as he careened wildly by, and, with a snap of the rope, lifted the hat. At the same moment _ his broncho came round in a dizzying spin, and the hat seemed to fly, of its own volition, into the rider’s hands. “Yip!” Higgins bellowed. “Texas Tanner takes the _ ticket.” : There were other roping feats; chief of them. a really remarkable exhibition of skillful rope work by the roper from Wyoming, who cleverly tangled the feet of the bronchos that were sent flying by him, and as quickly un- tangled them, without throwing the bronchos, each of which carried a rider. _ “T don’t see how he does it,” said Frank Merriwell, ap- _ plauding; ‘when I set a rope on anything, it sticks there; but that rope loosens and drops off as quickly as it tightens; it must be that the secret is in the rope. I’ve got to see that reata, after this show is over.” “Aw, yeou could beat thet yeourself,” Gallup asserted. “No!” said Merry. “And I’ve never seen the man that could. My roping tricks are simple, compared with that. It looks easy—dead easy; but that’s the most finished and difficult roping feat I ever saw. And notice the length of the rope—sixty feet; do you know what it means to string out a rope like that?” For an hour or more the feats of roping, riding, _ broncho bt’ sting, and racing went on. Then Texas Tan- ner was ready, with the vicious black broncho, named Satan. . “Yip! -Look out, pyethate! . Bin Higgins warned, a tremor of anxiety shooting into his voice. “This yere beast is that measly mean that he may take a notion to climb into the seats o’ the stadjum; I wouldn’t wonder that he would—so many bright eyes up there, I’m plum’ tempted to myself, jest to look into ’em! But I’m warnin’ ye to look out. Tanner says he can hold ’im, and won’t thank me fer sayin’ all o’ this; but I got a duty to perform, as well as he has. This yere black hoss killed two men in the Texas Panhandle last year, in a ridin’ contest, After that, Tanner bought him. I hope you don’t see him kill Tanner to-day—that’s all.” He turned, spun his, horse round in the way he liked, to show off his own riding skill, and swung his big hat. “Vip—yip!” he yelled. “Yee-ip!” _ Texas Tanner came in on the black broncho. It was a handsome animal, jet black, with flowing mane d tail, an arching neck, and a glittering eye. There NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY. | Ir cries of fright. was something wild in the eye, as if it feared the people, or feared the rider. “A beauty!” said Merriwell. “Tt doesn’t seem a bad horse,” Inza remarked. The broncho began to pitch before the words were out of her mouth. : Frank Merriwell was studying the black broncho; ad- miring it, too. The wonderful play of the muscles and tendons under the satiny skin was an exhibition in itself, “It’s not a vicious bucker—like some I’ve seen,” he said; “the horse is afraid—it has never been broken, and fears a man, just as a wild horse does. That’s what it is—a wild horse; because it has never been broken and trained, and has never been treated right.” The black broncho threw itself over backward, in a shining flash. Inza clutched Frank by the arm. “Oh-h!” she said; for, as horse and rider came down, she was expecting to see the man pinned to the ground. But the’ Texan was out of the saddle long before the horn of the saddle cut into the earth; and was in the saddle again as the broncho leaped up with a rubberlike bound. The black broncho, rowelled mercilessly, grew wilder with each leap; putting all four feet together, it spun round, like a pinwheel; it turned end for end, with quick jumps. The Texan took off his big hat and fanned himself as the broncho was pitching. He seemed but-a part of the animal, though at times his body was snapped almost as if it were a whip. “Idt iss easy!” said Dunnerwust. “Oh, is it?” said Diamond. “That may be fun for those who like it, but give me a rocking-chair for mine,”.Brown drawled; “a man who will do that just to exhibit himself : The sentence was broken into. Inza screamed suddenly. Buck Badger, hardened to ‘sights of the kind, started up in his seat, half dragging Winnie to her feet with him, for she was clinging to his arm. The black broncho had given an unheard-of, catlike — twist; and as it did so one of the tightly cinched girths parted ; the saddle rolled back, swung sidewise and down; and a kick of one of the broncho’s hind feet struck the rider on the head. Instantly the broncho was running amuck, dragging the senseless and hapless rider. Higgins made a wild attempt to rope it, as it flashed by him and on round, kicking and squealing, the saddle clinging to it burrlike, the Texan being dragged and churned on the ground with every jump that it made. “T can’t see the man killed in that way!” x The words shot from Frank Merriwell. sae Pushing aside Inza’s hands, as she tried to detain him, | Merry sprang down, hurdling over the people below him, and landed, with catlike ease, in the arena, as the black broncho swung on round towatd him. Inza started to scream, then sank back, white-faced and — shaking; knowing that she must do nothing now to dis- tract Merriwell’s attention, yet with an awful chill of | fear at her heart. a Every one inthe circling benches seemed leaping up; a roar and rumble as of thunder rose, mingled with sharp ‘ Inza stood up, when she could not see otherwise. He. misty dark eyes were fixed on her husband. She saw NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY, him crouching in the path of the broncho—crouching as a panther does when it prepares to leap, A prayer was on her lips. Winnie Badger swayed as if fainting, and Buck’s arm went round her. Then the big Kansan passed her to Browning, and began to leap down, to go to Merry’s aid. Jack Diamond followed him. But they would have been too late, if Merriwell’s safety had depended on them. The black broncho swerved as it came up to Merry, instead of trying to run him down; and as it passed, its hoofs beating like a drum, the supple athlete—he. was ence more in that supreme moment of danger the old athlete of Yale—leaped as if he were himself the noose of a lariat shot at the broncho by the skilled hand of a roper. Frank’s muscular hands sank into the thick black mane, as his tremendous bound carried him to its side, and a kick of his feet shot him into the air. Then he was astride, in front of the saddle. It had slipped down until a portion of the unbroken girth was uppermost—it was a double-girth saddle, as are all cowboy. saddles—and a thrust of the knife he had drawn cut it away; the senseless Texan was left lying, with the saddle, on the ground. As the broncho tore along, with Frank Merriwell cling- ing to its naked back, Buck Badger and Jack Diamond cleared the space that separated them from the Texan and picked the fallen man out of the dirt, dragging him to one side, to be out of the way if the broncho came tearing again round the big inclosure. © CHAPTER VII. MERRIWELL’S TRIUMPH. Bill Higgins overcame his temporary paralysis, as Frank Merriwell secured the bridle reins of the flying broncho, and shot his rope through the air. Higgins was a skilled roper, who could have entered - some of the roping contests with a good chance of win- ning. His noose flew swift and true, and his horse wheel- ing as the noose dropped over the broncho’s head, the broncho was brought with a jerk to its knees, and was rolled over on its side, its head flying round under the | pull of the rope. _ Higgins’ fear had been that Merriwell would be hurled _headforemost from its back and seriously injured; but - though he was pitched clear of the broncho’s head, he landed on his feet. Instantly he had hold of the rope that was round its Tateale and his free hand went to the broncho’s head. | “Keep the rope tight!”, he shouted to Higgins. “T’ll choke him to death,’ Higgins yelled, back. _ “No,” said Frank; “ease up when it gets to choking him !”? . _ The broncho was floundering, trying to get to its feet. In its dark eyes lay a great fear, a very terror; so that, pier at it was an animal insane, Frank Merriwell tt deal’ with its forefeet, striving to rise; Higgins aoe 7% over again. aes Suddenly he heard shouting—a wild cheer; then a voice sounded at his elbow. Merriwell turned only enough to see who spoke; held the his lips. He had returned almost instantly to consciousness, and, having struggled away from Badger and Diamond, he had leaped into the arena again; and here he was, to keep Merriwell from being killed, as he thought. “He'll kill ye!” he shrilled. “Stand back, out ©’ the Way.” “You shouldn’t be here,” right.” The Texan pulled at Merry’s “He'll kill ye!” “Stand back!” Merry commanded. He was giving his attention to the broncho; looking into its scared eyes, stroking its head and neck; and he was speaking to it, crooning to it, and did not want to be interrupted. He was watching at the same time, for he had no desire to be struck by its hoofs. \ Higgins loosened on the choking rope, as Merry shouted to him to do so. But Higgins was at attention, his reins ready to jerk his horse round and tighten the noose, again. Diamond and Badger had followed the Texan; and they took hold of him; they saw that he was swaying, and about to fall. “Let the horse go,” said Badger, speaking to Merri- well; “you owe a duty to your wife and friends. Or, have I got to drag you out of here} too?” Merry did not look at Badger; but he knew that the Kansan, with Diamond’s help, was dragging the Texan out of the arena. and be- Texan, blood on his face and bloody foam on Merry flung at him; “I’m all sleeve, “good ; “Good boy!” he was saying to the broncho; boy!” There was something almost hypnotic in Merry’s eyes and in his yoice. But the broncho still struggled and lunged. There was a roar of excitement in the stadium; men and women were shouting, some of them shrieking or scream- ing. “If they could only keep still”? was Merry’s thought. ‘ The broncho lunged, and got halfway to his feet. “Hold him!” he roared to Higgins. ae Higgins spun his horse round like a top, and the strug- fh gling broncho went down again. Merriwell felt that he was not gaining much, yet he att not cease his efforts. Gradually he began to see a change in the looks oe the broncho’s eyes, The scared beast was beginning +07) discover that Merry was a friend, not an enemy. Always a rider had been an enemy. But—here was a friend! The broncho felt the difference. “Good boy!” Merry continued, “Good boy!” His hands were smoothing, smoothing, hypnotically. The broncho’ s struggles became less frantic. lently. oe stroking it, Merriwell let it get its forefeet vide NEW as if attacked by an Merry’s hands stroked it— stroked it. The roaring excitement in the stadium was dying down. Men began to see that the black devil, as they had thought the broncho, was not going to break away and climb at them in the benches, The screaming and shrieking of women had ceased. There was much less of the pande- monium that had been of itself enough to drive the broncho into a frenzy. As the noise died down, Merriwell saw more and more that he was gaining with the broncho. The frightened look was fading out of its eyes. But it was still trem- bling. Sweat was pouring from it now—the black satin _of its coat was reeking with it. Its nostrils, heaving, flared red. “Let up on the rope,” Merry called to the amazed Higgins. “Cut it from your saddle!” The rope dropped to the ground. This loosening of the lariat enabled Frank to so ease on the noose that he could draw it off, over the broncho’s head. “He'll git away from ye!” Higgins warned. The broncho got its hind feet under it; gathered itself, and, shaking like a leaf, came to its feet. As it rose, Merriwell threw a leg over and vaulted to its back, the reins secure in his hands. The broncho gave a jump, that sent a groan shivering through the ranks ot the watchers. For a moment it seemed the black brute was about to begin again its tremendous pitching efforts, recognizing in any man who rode it a foe.. But the voice that had _ been soothing it still went on crooning, and one free hand still stroked the satin—the wet satin—of its neck. “Good boy!” Merry was saying, over and over. The broncho started to run, took a few jumps, felt the rein and the bit, but the hands on the rein were ‘good hands,” and no spurs gouging it cruelly, as had been the custom; and it felt less like bucking—which had been. its method of fighting a foe. The lunges became a gallop, that cea: into ‘a canter, as it swung round the arena; the canter lessened in speed; and within five minutes the fierce black broncho was can- _ tering slowly round, with Frank Merriwell sitting without a saddle on its back. He slipped to the ground as soon as he could do so, without fear of again startling the horse; and began once more to speak kindly, and stroke it, C Higgins was watching him, mouth open, in his amaze- - ment: _ The Texan came hobbling in. = Buck Badger appeared, and ague. Diamond; others ‘were iB “Don’t bic: in,’ Frank warned. ‘The broncho is still Just give me a ae time.” “This will be a fine little ae has recognized you, and TIP: TOP WEEKLY. | 13 the trembling animal; “that’s the trouble—you try to break. My receipt is simpler—and 1 make you a free gift of it: kindness.” He mounted the broncho again, and rode it quietly gut of the arena. As he went, the thundered with applause. “stadium” CHAPTER VIII. DUNNERWUST AS A DETECTIVE. There were more contests of various kinds; for the exhibitions of cowboy skill were resumed when it was learned that Texas Tanner had not been severely injured by an accident that would have killed many another man. He had the tough fiber of the old-time plainsman, and in the contests of the second day he occupied his expected place, as if nothing had happened. But he did not again ride Satan. riwell had “tamed” the black broncho, the animal would not stay “tamed.” his experience had shaken his nerve. The exhibitions of the second day were but variants of those of the first, with the addition of pistol and rifle shooting. Also, this was the day in which the women He admitted that Mer- but declared that It was plain that ‘riders took part. Inza Merriwell and Winnie Badger had been urged by some of their friends to enter the riding contests. They were known to be superb horsewomen. They had laughed, hesitated, and then had refused. “We're not so young as we were once,” said Inza. “And I’m not quite so sylphlike,” Winnie admitted; “it takes your slender woman to do acceptable stunts on horseback. Even Buck admits that I’m not able to do the wild riding I did when I first came to the ranch.” “Nothing of the kind,” Buck declared gallantly. “You know you ride as well as you ever did. If you went into that contest, you’d pluck one of the blue rons, and I know it.” i “I think I’ll not try,” said Winnie; but she was pleased with the compliment. In the stadium, the next afternoon, urged. “Why doesn’t some one beg me to risk my precious neck out there?” Browning drawled. “Because,” Inza assured him, “there isn’t a horse here big enough to carry you.” - “Oh, I meant in an automobile—I’d do my racing in an automobile; but I’m getting no requests, and no bou- quets. I auto be able to win in 5 “Keep him still, if you have to choke him with his they were again handkerchief,” said Merry; “I want to hear what Bill Ps Higgins is saying.” “Yere, yere!” Higgins was howling. “If you-all don’t © quit hollerin’, how’m 1 to make myself heard? I got suthin yere to read to you.” He was flourishing a slip of "ig paper. “But I won’t unless you quiet down. If that man _ up there don’t stop his hoppin’ an’ yowlin’, I’ rope him and drag him out uh the stadjum. Now, listen to this, It was writ by one of our leadin’ lawyers, and signed by — about the hull. blamed communerty, with my own name leadin’ ther. percession.” Then he read, in a yelling voice: “The citizens of Skyline and heir ‘dies wanna hereby petition Mrs. Frank Merriwell and Mrs. Buck wayecr to enter the ladies’ riding, exhibition in ‘the. im ium NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY. this afternoon—in a free-for-all real riding contest, open to the world. The winner to receive a prize of five hun- dred dollars in gold. This is signed by the ardent ad- mirers ef the said ladies, who, having heard of their riding ability, are anxious to see them in a riding contest in our arena. Signed Bitt ‘Hiccins, AND——” He began to read down the first column of names. But whose the names were, after the first few were read, no man could know because of the cheers that rocked the amphitheater. Inza and Winnie blushed like schoolgirls. They knew this was the work of Bill Higgins himself; that he had the paper drawn up and had circulated it for names. Frank Merriwell and Buck Badger sat smiling. “It’s up to you, Winnie,” said Buck, But again they refused. “Five hundred in gold,” said Buck; “and I’d be willing to put up another five hundred that either you or Inza would take it.” Winnie shook her head. “No,” she declared. Higgins refused to be chagrined at his failure. “Oh, well,’ "he said, his voice ringing out again, “the ladies aire frum the East, ye know—even Central Kansas was East, in this place—and timid. I reckon we'll have to let it go at that. Well——” He spun his horse round on its toes, and lifted his cow- boy hat. / “All the other riders aire ready, I believe; we was jest thinkin’ we could mebby add to ’em. _And—if you're all ready——” His hat swung. “Yip! Yee-ip!” And the women riders from Texas and Colorado and Wyomin and from Kansas and Nebraska—ranch women, Indian women, Mexicans—came riding forth, to enter a _ contest as hard fought as any that had been seen in the _ two days’ carnival. But Hans Dunnerwust was not in the stadium that afternoon. “J vill nodt go me,” he had said to Merriwell. “I am yoost going to dot show again, down by der sdation. This was shortly after noon. Merriwell had stood looking at the moon-faced German. “Well, don’t say anything to Diamond about it,” he requested. “You are sdill t’inking dot I seen only peer undt lim- purger,” said Dunnerwust, “but I know idt petter; I am -nodt such a foolishness.” “We came to the conclusion, you remember, that you probably saw that. wax image of Maximilian King,” “Vell, I vandt to seen idt vonce again anodder dime. Dit you hadt Yack Diamondt on oxaminadion made uff ‘dot redt ink ploodt on der floor uff dot room? Nein. I can see by your exbressionless dot you tidn’t. Vos idt --yoost ink?” “We can take a look at it now, perhaps.” _ But when they had gone up to the room, now occupied iy another man, the door was found locked, and they had come away. So, while the other embers: of Frank Lemniaits party had gone out to the stadium, Hans Dunnerwust had strolled down to the show on the vacant lot by the station. He was among the first to enter; and was staréd at by the ticket seller, who was none other than the man whose nose had been tweaked. The ticket seller dropped down from his box, as if he would follow the Ger- man ; but, apparently, changed his mind, as others crowded up for tickets. Dunnerwust strolled in leisurely, looking round. No > more than half a dozen people were under the canvas at the time, though others were entering. “An exhipition dot vouldt freeze der hairs in der weins uff a cat,” he mused; “idt gifs me der delirium hysderics yoost to loogk adt them. Der amoosement vot anypoty can findt in a show like idt iss, makes me a mysdery.” Dunnerwust had not entered to amuse himself with the horrors here grouped. Once inside he moved more quickly, and soon was standing before the figure of Maximilian King. He stood for a moment staring hard at the blood smear on the forehead; then licked his finger, and rubbed the stain. It began to come away as a red smear on his finger. “Ah! Does idt suckgest me somedings? I am blay dot I am a tedectif.” ; He wet his finger again, and rubbed at the red ‘on the cheek nearest him. This red, so like the other in appear- ance, did not come off. “Um-huh! Der redt on der cheeks iss fasdt, undt der redt on der headt iss loose, Yoost vot I t’ought.” He took a sheet of soft paper from his pocket, wet it with his tongue, then rubbed it on the forehead of the - image. Half of the stain on the forehead came away on the paper, which Dunnerwust stored in his pocket, “Um-huh! Yoost as idt iss oxbecting me. Der loose- ness iss more loose vhen idt iss vet oop some more times, Yaw! Um-huh! Now I am——” He was caught by: the shoulders and spun round. Then he stood looking into the angry face of the pro- prietor. “What do you mean by that ?” was, hurled at him. “Vot iss your owen meanness?” he hurled back. “You were disfiguring that!” \ “No. I vos cleaning idt. Idt git dust in idts eye, undt vipe idt oudt.” “You’re a liar; I, happened to see you! g° Dunnerwust spat, on his hands. “You are two liars,” he shouted, cracking his fists to- — “Uff you say dot I am again a liar, you will gether. I do nodt dake dot from any mans cy haf to eadt me. lifing.” ‘ “Give me that’ paper you thrust into your pocket.” “Tdt iss mine.” The showman made a dive, rammed his hand into — Dunnerwust’s pocket, and, in the struggle that ensued, they came to the ground together. ; “Dake me off uff him!” Dunnerwust began to yell, as the showman’s fingers pressed his throat. But there was no need; the showman jumped back na arose, with the smeared paper in his hand. He doubled it into a ball, and it went into his own pocket. “Now get out of this,” he said roughly. “Budt I paidt my kvarter.” Dunnerwust stood panting, facing the angry showman, as the people who were under the canvas began to gather round them and ask questions. _ Dunnerwust turned to the crowd. “I paidt me my administradion kvarter, undt now he says NEW , Oe so Vot haf I done? T am to, gedt me oudt. He iss got my : _ kvarter.” iad is “You were damaging that figure of Maximilian King; you were rubbing the paint off iis face. Clear out, or I'll To have you arrested for that.” ai “Idt. vos nodt baint——” “Clear out!” aa He caught Dunnerwust again by the shoulders, and be- a gan to propel him toward the exit. ty Dunnerwust struggled ; then, reconsidering the matter, he subsided, and was ejected. from the tent. 7 , Outside he stood, red-faced, angry, and muttering. Then x Pe. looking at his right forefinger, he noted that it held still a : the stain of red. “Um-huh! I dit gidt me somet’ing. He haf dot tale- dell baber, but I sdill haf my owen finger. I voult nodt i ‘yash mein handts now for a‘ hunder tollar; “nodt efen ” for zwein hundert; I vill show me dot: Auger to Frankie i Merriwell.” # Wrapping his finger and his whole hand in his hand- ot ee kerchief, he stuck‘ it in his pocket, and kept his hand 3 there as he walked up the street. : | There was a long time. to wait. atthe hotel. . i -Dunnerwust camped down in a:chair by the wall. of the is lobby and dug out his well-used rier. or “Frankie vill be caming in der sveet py undt py, apdt 1, I vill yoost smoke me vhile I vait.” ! t es _ His difficulty in thumbing tobacco into the pipe and . lighting it, led .a. man sitting close by to come to his assistance. ae “Vou ve hurt your eal I. see,” he remarked; “let: me -help you.” Dunnerwust looked at his swathed eleht hand. “Yaw,” he said, sucking away to get his pipe going; “‘idt _ haf cut me.’ ey _ “You're in Merriwell’s crowd ?” “Yaw.” “Great stunt he done yesterday afternoon. But I’ve heard said it. was a fake—put up; you know ; that the broncho wasn’t wild, in the first place.” “You ton’dt want to. fighdt me?” “Sure not.” “Ton’dt say idt again some more.” CAL his friends swear by him, and you're like the rest, I see.” “No.man can know Frankie seal undt nodt be his -friendt undt akvaintance.” “That’s what they. say.” “Idt- iss yoost so.” ae For an hour Dunnerwust sat talking and smoking, be- fore Merriwell and his friends, appeared, _ Merriwell’s sweeping glance fell on the handkerchief; _ to my room and let me look at it.” -/ . When Dunnerwust found Merriwell in the latte F Diamond was there, with Gallup and Badger. “How did you hurt your hand?” Merry demanded. _“T yoost vant you to loogk at idt.” _ Unwinding the handkerchief, Dunner wust exhibited the smear on his finger. “But where is the wound—the injury ?” ‘e Dot iss all. I vandted you to seen dot perfore idt iss get ‘viped off, so you vill hot again be saying dot idt iss peer undt limpurger. Dot iss Maximilium King.” 4 a rose in a Diamond's handsome dark face, r’s room, TIP... TOP.. WEEKLY. “Hurt yourself?” he said solicitously ; “better come. up. ' ‘shower of ee _ “That’s queer,” Merriwell commented, glancing at Dia- . a mond. “Kveer? Iss dot all?” Dunnerwust felt hurt. -nerwust has. got’ to ‘be looked. aout fer, while he is in this “What do you mean?” he said. “Yoost dot. Now I vill oxblanadion idt.” “_ “Which he did to the minutest detail, amid a retarding “What -do you think it is?” “Murter.” He, too, looked at Diamond. “You are here, so you are nodt deadt! Budt idt iss murter yoost der sameness. Undt idt iss nodt-peer undt limpurger, neidher.” He ‘arose. “Down by der sdation dot show iss ofer py now, undt I am going to see it again vonce more dimes. Yoost you t’ink vot I haf saidt, vhile I am a goneness,” He waddled solemnly out of the room. ‘A. puckered® frown. was’ on Diamond’s’ forehead. Merriwell’s eyes there was a questioning light. Gallup got up to follow Dunnerwust. “Thet fool will need a gyardeen,” he remarked, by way of exctising: himself. “From his own: tell, he got licked daown there, and naow he'll be licked some more. - Dun- -In taown:” ; a He, too, was gone, without awaiting the comments of | the others. ss He overtook Dunnerwust on the street. “Naow, say,” he drawled, linking his arm in the Ger- man’s; “thet wuz queer goods yeou wuz handin’ aout.” “Kyveer !” “What do yeou reely think?” “Vell, idt seems to me dot any insensible man vouldt exbecdorate dot idt iss murter in der fairst degree.” “But who’s been: killed?” “Ton’dt answer. me.” “Diamond is all right; “Uff a sureness.” “Well, then, who could it be?” “How do I know idt? Budt vhy dit Tom Diarnondt baint der imache by der headt on?” “Wall, I don’t know.” " “Me, neidher. Dot iss vot’ I am to-find cult i now.” .“Haow ye goin’ tew?” “Ditn’t I saidt dot I ton’dt know mysellef?” Arm in arm they went on, coming at last in sight of the tent and its big banners. The crowd was gone from the street, except that small boys abounded and a few men lingered round. “Dot show. vouldt gif a deadt man der shiferings,” said _ Dunnerwust. “Shall ve go in, undt gedt us kicked oudt 3 again? He iss owen me a kvarter.” Hea pe he is livin’.” Seeing by a shadow on the entrance canvas that the — showman was coming out, Gallup drew Dunnerwust off | the pavement of boards, and in behind the: tent. “Vot iss?” er “Wall, I dunno know thet I know myself; but somehaow © 1 didn’t feel jest like facin’ him. He’d recklect yeou, and — there ain't no use tew git into a raow. We'll set daown — here on ther buffalo grass and think it over. But 1 don’t see thet we can do anything.” ars 1 16 NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY “Aw, there ain’t been no murder; yeou’re jest pipe dreamin’ ag’in,’ Gallup commented, at last, ready to move away. “Budt somepoty iss dating insite !” Dunnerwust warned. “Vot dit you exbectorate, eenyhow——” “Keep away from that trunk!” an angry voice was say- ing in the tent. “I told you that before!” Dunnerwust lifted his finger. “Der trunk again,” he whispered solemnly. idt ?” “But it’s not the one yeou seen in Diamond’s room.” There were more angry words. Dunnerwust flopped down on the ground, crawled on his stomach up to the canvas, and lifted it. Looking in, he saw the showman and the man he had first seen in the tent entrance, angrily facing each other. Then the showman beheld Dunnerwust’s moon-round face peering in, and he rushed at it, kicking. The toe of his heayy shoe grazed the German’s neck and thumped against the canvas. Dunnerwust scrambled back, with an imitation of the head of a tortoise, making a quick withdrawal into its shell, The canvas began. to lift, showing that the angry man inside was preparing to follow the German. “Aout of it,” whispered Gallup. He lifted’ ‘Dunnerwust, and they sped together round the tent as fast as Dunner- wust’s short fat legs could propel him. They were still running when they gained the street. “Close call, thet,” panted the Yankee. “If I hadn’t been there to look auot fer ye, yeou’d had yer fool Dutch head caved in. Yeou got tew thank me fer gittin yeou out o’ thet scrape. And whut did yeou gain by it? Nawthin’.” “T dit. I haf more newsiness for Frankie Merriwell. I am gitting me to be a tedectif.” “You heardt CHAPTER IX. DUNNERWUST REPORTS PROGRESS. Bruce Browning had loafed lazily into Merriwell’s room, and had as lazily stretched himself out in a morris chair, Hans Dunnerwust’s “disclosure” was still the subject of the conversation, but Browning knew nothing about it. “Enough to make a fellow weary, to watch that riding this afternoon,” he commented. “The strenuous life never appealed to you,” said Badger. “But if you would do a little riding like that you wouldn’t be in so much danger of dying of too much fat. Sup- pose it had been up to you to do what Merry did——” “It’s not a supposable case,” Browning rumbled; “no use to waste breath supposing an impossible thing. I couldn’t have done it—that’s all.” “But about this other matter,” frowning. “What is this other matter?’ Browning asked “Or, don’t you want me to come in?” “Well, Dunnerwust—he’s an old Dutch fool, of course— - Dunnerwust is sure—still clings to it—that he saw a dead man.on the floor in my room—in the room that was. my room. He refuses to accept, our theory that what he saw was that wax figure of Maximilian King, put in there hastily, by mistake, by Tom Diamond, whose room ad- joined; and then taken out by him.”. “Well, why don’t you ask Tom Diamond?” “Tt wouldn’t do, you~ see,” Jack urged. Diamond interrupted, “The fellow is none too good to: commit:.a murder; but if he did, would he talk about it? Tell him of Dunnerwust’s latest, Merry ?” Merriwell complied. Browning laughed when he heard of: the red-paint smear en. the finger, carefully screened in a handkerchief until Merriwell could see it. “Just like Dunnerwust,” he saad: A moment later he remarked again: “But why don’t you go and ask Tom Diamond?” “That would be a blundering way .to go at it,” Jack urged. “He would sneer You out of his tent, or kick you out.” Browning’s laugh rumbled again. , “That's right, I guess; you’d do it yourself, under the | circumstances.” ; “And we really have nothing to base a legal charge on,” said Merriwell; “you can see that. Dunnewust sug- gested an examination of that stain in the carpet of the room,.which the proprietor said had been made by spilling red ink. Still—~” ‘ ; ; “The fact of the matter is,” said Badger, “you all know’ Dunnerwust. Mighty good fellow, and all that; but——” . ‘They were still talking it over; when Diinnerwust, hay- ing hurried on his’ way from the showman’s tent, came waddling in, followed by the lank form of Gallup, He brought up with a jerk, inside the door. “Idt iss!” he sputtered. “We might agree with you,” derstood it, What is?” “Murter ?” “Murter !” Browning laughed. “Oh, you’ve got more proof, time ?” Gallup trailed in. “Heard a raow, like a dog fight, and Dunnerwist came nigh gittin his eye kicked aout, daown behind the tent; thet’s abaout all.” “Budt der trunk! You heardt idt, Efy?” “Yes, I heard whut yeou did, I reckon; Tom. Diamond wuz inside, raowin’ with thet other man, bercuz t’other man didn’t keep away frum a cert’in trunk i in there. Then Hans, he peeked under, and Tom Diamond tried to pick his eye aout with the/toe of his shoe. Come nigh doin’ it, tew.” Browning’s laugh ecxglee from the depths of the big morris chair. “You're going to get killed down there, Dunnerwust.” “Vhile you vellers haf peen loafin’ by der chob on, I haf peen blaying tedectif. You ton’dt pelief dot I seen idt. Budt vill you oxblanadion me dhis: Why dit Tom Diamondt pudt dot redt on der face uff der staturewary uff Maxilmilium King? Uff idt yos yoost baint, like der resdt uff me, idt voult be differendt; but not redt idt iss loose, undt. idt come off on der baber undt on mein — finger. You can seen some uff idt on mein finger yedt alreadty.” “Well, what do you think?” said Browning. “I tink he iss knowing to der fact dot I seen dot deadt pody by der trunk in der room; undt dhen he iss — said Browning, ‘ if we un- Found the body this t’ink dot he can fool me py making baint on der face uff dot staturewarfy, so uff idt comes to some troublesome- _ ‘ NEW. TIP TOP WEEKLY. 17 ness apoudt idt, I vill nodt be aple-to say? idt- vos nodt der staturewary dot I.seén. Dot iss my oxblanadion.” He was standing with legs. spread, ee his fist into his open palm for emphasis. “ “Undt. you vellers,. you -vill: sid: here: -yeost tike a\ hens sidding on a nesdt uff eggs, undt dit: ere -T ata gitting me a madtness apoudt idt vonce.” nt “Are you willing to swear out a warrant for the arrest of that man?” | Merriwell asked.” | : “Sure I am,’ : “A warrant Sa him with murder’ . “Vhy nodt?” ide “Well, certain facts must be known, you see, before »that can be done. You must know who has -been mur- dered, in the first place; and, in the: second, you ought to be able to produce the body,. or show where it is. You can’t do anything of the kind, Hans.” “So I musdt sdop idt?” “In the third place, Dunnerwust,” said Diamond, “with no more information than we've. got, I wouldn’t want to stir up a thing like that, with the name. of Diamond connected with it. That’s what I’ve. said. to Merriwell. It’s an honored and honorable name, except where. this scoundrel has been smirching it, and “Fiddle my sdicks! Vot iss a name? Uff Dunnerwust kills a man, hang heem high, My madtness iss getting more madt as it vos pefore me,” Though Diamond’s face was ‘flushed, he laughed in an amused way. “You're all right, Dunnerwust. Your imagination has been running away with you, that’s all. ‘Let the thing go over till morning. I’m still waiting for a challenge from Tom Diamond. If he sends it If he doesn’t send. it, I'll see that he doesn’t get out of this town without the sound thrashing that he deserves.” “Goot for you, Diamondt!” “T’ll take you along and let you witness it,” said Dia- mond grimly. “You asked what there is in a name. There is everything in a name, Dunnerwust.” Bruce Browning, laughing softly, began to drone from his morris chair: “What’s in a name? Oh, Romeo, Romeo!—wherefore art thou, Romeo? A rose by any other name would smell as sweet?” CHAPTER X. REVELATIONS. Hans Dunnerwust, standing in the street before the showman’s tent, the next morning, saw Gallup approach- ing, and turned his back. “Come aout of it!” Gallup commanded. “Oh, you go avay! I haf a righdt to standt der streedt in. Besites, dot showman veller, der odder. vun, he vinket his eye by me, undt I vant to seen vhy he dit idt.” Gallup was trying to pull the German away, when the “showman veller” came out of the tent, and, brushing by them hurriedly on his way uptown, whispered, as he passed: _ “Foller me!” “Thutter, whut’s thet mean?” Gallup gasped. “Der vay to know iss to findt oudt.” He began to follow the man, who was not the pro- prietor of the show, but the one they had first seen in the entrance, on the day of their arrival in the town. Gallup. craned along after Dunnerwust. The-man -ttirned off at a side street, and they saw him beckoning. “Yaw, vé are here,” said Dunnerwust, as they came up behind the house, which sheltered him. “Vhy dit you vinket ?” “_ wanted to ask you some questions.” “Me, too, you—also-o, undt likevise. Why dit dot show- man say dot you shouldt keeb off der trunk?” “Oh, you heard that, when you was peekin’ under the canvas! Where’s the marshal—I want to speak with him? He’s been trailin’ round with your crowd.” “T oxbectorate dot Bill Hickins iss mit Merry; budt you can dell me. In dhis pizness I am der only vun who iss uninderestedt. Undt anodder t’ing: Vhy dit Tom Diamondt put der ploody baint on der face uff Maxil- milium King? Undt likevise, vhen he has seen dot I am. viping idt off, why dit he salt undt batter me, undt dake dot baint avay on der baber? Vill you oxblain to me dose kvestions?” The man gave him a queer, ‘sidelong glance. “Who are you?” he demanded. “Me?” Dunnerwust hammered himself on the breast. “I am yoost me! : Budt I know somet’ings vhen I seen idt. Vho. ves deadt in der room uff. Gallup caught him by. the arm: “Naow, naow——” Dunnerwust shook him off angrily. “You go vay pack undt sid down; I am holdting onto der. floor now! Der way to oben a door iss to pudt der key in idt. Nopody vill use a key. on dhis t’ing budt me; so Iam going to. You yoost keeb sdill a liddle,” | “But looky ’ere, Dunnerwust——” “I am kvit loogking by you, or by eenypody! You pedt me I am on der chob, undt I ton’dt sdop me no longer. I haf been disopedient to you longk enough. So I am ask- ing dhis man a kvestions. Undt you yoost keeb sdill now undil he sbeaks idt.” Gallup seized him and began to draw him along. “We ain’t goin’ to talk abaout thet to no stranger on ther street naow, I tell you.’ Ef it’s tew be talked abaout, we'll see Merriwell. This man said he wanted tew find ther marshal; well, there’s where ther marshal is. We'll all go up there together.” “Do I haf to fighdt you, too, my oldt friendt?” “Thutter, yeou will ef yeou don’t keep yeour head shet; T’ll lam ye tell yeou can’t talk.” Some men came running along this side street, drawn by what they thought were indications of a fight. The showman glanced at them anxiously. “Well, I want to see the marshal,” he said, “and I ain’t got too much time; and I’d like to hear about that dead ~ man. I'll go with you fellers. They’re at the hotel, I s’pose ?” Gallup released the struggling German. “All right, yeou can go along. Dunnerwust, I’m yeour friend, all right, but I’ll thump the tar out of yeou—— He began to pull him along the street and into the main > one, leading to the hotel. When they arrived there they found hdeerineat gsi his friends, with Higgins, in the lobby. “In yeour room,” whispered Gallup; “here’s a man cae: 3 Diamond’s Diamonds wants tew speak to yeou, -_ wants tew see Higgins.” “Me?” said Higgins. The man came up to him, looking at the big star on his breast. “You're the marshal? Well, you. Texas Tanner, who’s an old acquaintance 0’ said you’d be found with Merriwell’s crowd; he was on ‘the street—is now, that Merriwell tamed down. “Sure I am,” said Higgins. vate?” “Well, anywhere; but not in a crowd.” “Merry’s room do?” I want to have a talk with mine, If you’re the marshal——” “Want to see me pri- “Yes.” “I can invite these friends along, if it ain’t too pri- vate ?” “Yes, I reckon that'll be all right; you may need help; that is They went upstairs together, without further explana- . tion. Not until the door was closed on them in Merri- well’s room did the man speak again. “Well, there’s somethin’ wrong,” he began, Higgins; “I got some idees, and accumulated a few hints .. from this German; still, I’m not hesitating. But there’s sure something wrong. The show is to stay. here a day longer; but this mornin’ Diamond is packin’ up and is to leave on the nine-o’clock express. I’m to stay behind and run the show, and then come on with it, to Glenwood, up in the mountains. speaking to “The funny thing—and that’s what I’m now comin’ to— is, Diamond’s wife has disappeared. If you noticed the banners you seen the name of Ma’mselle Daizie, in the vaudeville; that was her—right name was Mrs. Clara Barnett.” “Not Diamond?” questioned Jack, who had been listen- ing with evident nervousness and apprehension. “His right name is Barnett; he bought out Tom Dia- mond some time ago, and is still runnin’ it under his name; he bought that right with the other privileges; and at the hotels he signs himself Tom Diamond.” Jack’s face began to clear. ; “But it’s his wife I got anxious about, and began to have suspicions about; and now him packin’ up, to go ahead of the show, this mornin’! He never has done it before.” ; ie eS. saidt dot idt iss all alongk,” Dunnerwust began to sputter; “my tedectic insdinks haf told me——” “My name is Dindry—Dave Dindry,” the mah was Say- ing to Higgins; “and Texas Tanner knows me, and will - youch fer me; we was once old friends.” - He turned suddenly to the sputtering German. _ “What was it apout a dead man; you was trying to tell “me, you know—a dead man in a room?” “In Yack Diamondt’s room, behint der trunk, at der _vall; I seen idt, undt idt vos nodt peer undt limpurger, co -neidher ; vhen I seen me someding I am knowing—mit _ploodt on idts face, like vos on der staturewary uff Maxilmilium King; budt idt vos nodt a vomans—idt vos a ° _ *Ma’mselle Daizie wore man’s clothing a good deal of the time. Was the face dark- -complected ?” Sep Yoost on eer, Diamondt—nodt so white as NEW. TIP. TOP. .WEEKLY. I reckon—tryin’ out that black broncho | ‘once or’ twice already it had tried to buck him, and then “Oh, well,” he breathed; “he didn’t mean. it as. an j insult !” . hie ; “Well, now I'll tell you what I think,” said Dindry ; “T think. Barnett has killed his wife. .They was - quar- relin’ in the last town, and on the train comin’ here; and | I heard him threaten. her. -And—I think the body. is in Barnetts’ big trunk in. the tent right.this minute. He has been wild whenever 1 went near that. trunk, lately ; and he is going to take it on with him this morning.” He looked around, pale and trembling with the treimen- dous import of the revelation he was making.. “Your Dutchman, here, was what got him going—got his goat; seemed like he was ha’ntin’ Barnett; and Bar- nett, I reckon, begun to think he knew something, after he was caught rubbin’ that new color’ off the face of Maximilian King. If the Dutchman had come ag’in into 4 oe \ SS eens = eg as oe the tent, I think Barnett would ’a’ knifed him; he was ugly about it. I never thought about it before, but King does look like Mrs. Barnett in her man’s clothes. The #4 paint was put on her to fool somebody. If. the Dutch- cy man had returned, Barnett sure would ’a’ knifed him.” ‘4 “Oo-h, me! . He vouldt knifed me? Yiminy! I am making a narrow escapement.” _ “I'll. go right down there,” said Higgins, He looked at his. watch. “Half. an hour yet till that train pulls in, if it’s on time; half the time it ain’t. And I’ll go through that trunk.” “Old Hans seems to have been. more than half right, eh?” Browning remarked. 5 ins ni ign th oct eke cee “A fool undt his money ain’dt soon barted, sometimes’ undt a longk lane idt.somedimes turn aroundt again yedt. Also-o a birdt mit salt on idts dail” “New edition. of. poor Richard’s almanac, just. out,” said Browning. . “Fellows, I’m going down to that tent, too. I’m big enough to act as a shield for all of you, if there are any bullets flying.” ; Though Browning was smiling in his genial way, he more than half meant it. “And his name wasn’t Diamond, after all,” Jack Dia- mond was thinking. Merriwell was thinking of the woman slain, and Hig- gins of his duty, as they went soberly down into the street. \ CHAPTER XI. THE FLIGHT OF GUILT, Texas Tanner, as cheerful as if he had never been dragged at thé tail of a horse, had been cantering up and down the streets on Satan, having taken his courage in his hands. He wanted to show that the broncho had not conquered him. ‘ But the black broncho was exceedingly restive, and had tried to scrape him from its back by making a light, ning graze against a a lamp-post, Tanner pulled in when he saw Merriwell and the men. with him. } “I can’t git Satan to be plum’ as sweet with ‘me as ‘te was with you,” he called over; “I reckon you got some kind wh kink in your trainin’ that I don’t know about. AS a crowd should gether here, now, and begin to Holts, he’ be p’intin’ me at°the stars in good shape.” : He rode along, watchful and cautious, with the ‘bron ee skittishly oe, one side of the street to a se snap ntl ka en” ADs... ge ad nd en 9 ht- ee fast bay horse broke into view, lashed into a run, with other. He had taken one lesson from Merriwell. Though he had the big, cruel spurs on his heels, he was not using them. “Jest as easy,” he said, laughing, lifting his leg out of the way when the broncho grazed another lamp-post ; “tame as a kitten, ain’t he, Merriwell? Still——” The broncho, jumping, broke the sentence. “That hoss’ll git ye, Tanner!” Dindry called, in warn- ing. “Best thing to do is to shoot him, and git shet of him.” “Had him six months, and he ain’t killed me yit; some good money with him, too, Dindry. Still——” The broncho gave a squeal and another jump. Higgins, with becoming gravity, was walking straight along, hurrying, to give himself plenty of time for his unpleasant duty; and Merriwell and his. friends were keeping pace with Higgins, Dindry being with them. “Old tent is still there, anyhow,” said Dindry, when they came in sight of it, as if it relieved him to see the banners again and the weather-worn canvas. : “Undt der train she ain’dt caming yedt,” Dunnerwust added. “Ve sdill haf feefdeen minudes alreadty pefore idt iss. In dot dime——” Bill Higgins, turning toward the entrance, put back his hand as if to make sure that he had his revolver in his hip pocket. ‘*T hate to do it,” he said; “and if it’s a mistake, I apologizes prompt. But we’re sure goin’ to take a look at that trunk, now that we’re yere. Maybe only another Maximillion King in it, that he’s ’special careful about. Puzzles me how he got the body out’ uh the hotel, if he did: but’ if it’s here, he did.” The skittish broncho, fearful of the people in the street, had made another jump, and scudded on down the street toward the station. Merriwell stopped long enough in the entrance to note the broncho’s antics, as Tanner turned it about, and it came waltzing back. won “It’s afraid of Tanner. In better hands it might be made into a fine little horse. Yet I see he doesn’t drive the spurs into it now. What I said, and what the broncho did, must have taught him a lesson. I guess he needed it.” Only for an instant did Merriwell’s mind turn from its contemplation of the object of this visit to the tent; then he was entering, close on the heels of that prince of lag- gards, Bruce Browning. Higgins was already within. Suddenly there was a rush and commotion inside; Merry felt the tent shake as if some one had run vio- lently against a tent pole; ‘then he heard Higgins’ heavy voice bellowing. Merriwell would have bounded on into the tent, pushing Browning ahead of him, if he had not caught the purport of Higgins’ words. With a backward spring and a quick turn, he shot out of the entrance into the open ground fronting on the street, and as he did so, he heard the clatter of a horse’s - hoofs. Thinking the noise had been made by Satan, he saw - this could not be, for the black broncho had been turned again, and was once more jumping along in the direction of the station. Then, from behind the sheltering screen of the canvas NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY. 19 the showman, whom Merriwell had known as Tom Dia- mond, on the horse’s back. Higgins was rolling out of the tent at the rear, under the canvas, and was yelling to the horseman to stop. The bay and its rider gained the street, crossed it quickly, and drove on, into a road that ran westerly, up the valley of the Arkanas River. Higgins and the men who had been in the tent with him came running now round it, Higgins still shouting. Frank Merriwell was standing in the street, a witness to it all, yet at the moment not able to do anything. Looking toward the station, he saw Tanner fighting with the black broncho; it whirled with him, and came up the street at a run. The broncho was the only horse to be had—the only one near; and Merriwell, decided that he must have it. He © ran td meet it. Seeing him coming, waving his hand, Texas Tanner, with much difficulty, slowed the broncho to a dancing halt, which apparently could not be maintained. “T must have your horse,” said Merriwell, dashing up to him. “That man”’—he jerked his hand toward the fly- ing fugitive—“‘has got to be overtaken. Supposed to be a case of murder + “You got weepins?” Tanner demanded. “There’s the rope on your saddle.” The broncho danced, and jumped again. tated. “Hate to see you resk your neck! And that bay hoss is going some, I tell ye. Yet this critter can run—if you can guide him, and he don’t pitch ye. I can stay on his back—when the girth doesn’t break—but he’s too dancy to git speed out of; yet if any man can do it, I reckon you can.” é His hesitation passing, he dropped to the ground, cling- ing to the bridle as the broncho jumped. “Give me yer leg, and I'll h’ist ye!” ; But with a running bound’ Frank Merriwell went into the saddle. Tanner released the bridle and sprang back; the broncho lashing out at him, with a sidewise jump, as if it hated him and desired to kill him. Tanner hesi- Merriwell was gathering the reins, as the horse flung out in that savage way; when he lifted them, the horse came round, apparently realizing that another man now had it in hand. The fast bay horse that bore Barnett was scape the ground behind it, lashed on by the scared fugitive. Out there before him, Barnett knew, lay league on league of untenanted buffalo grass and gray distance, with only here and there the sod house and creaking windmill of a lonely settler. Far beyond, invisible, lay the great mountains, only to be reached after days of riding; they were on the west. South and southwest were the. vast plains of western Oklahoma, the Texas Pan- handle, and eastern New Mexico; and if they could be — crossed, far down there lay troubled Mexico, ‘offering refuge. He was trying to plan out his course as he drove the bay horse on. He had brought the horse to the rear of — the tent earlier in the day, thinking that a flight on horse- — back might be safer than by rail, and for that purpose _ had hired the horse from a stable; then, with an accession — of courage, he had changed his mind, shifted his plans again, and decided to go by rail, ‘and trust for safety to bison. NEW TIP an indifference of demeanor. He had then been telling himself that he was scared without reason. But when Dindry left the tent, and then returned with Higgins and Merriwell and his friends, seeing their ap- proach, Barnett knew he could not get aboard the train, and must trust to the fleetness of the horse. Now, safe on horseback, he was beginning to feel that he had such a start that any pursuit would fail, if he but gave wide berth to the railway with its telegraph lines; when he saw the black broncho flash along the valley road, with a pursuer. crouched on its back. A harsh laugh broke from the showman’s lips—a com- pound of fear and sarcastic defiance; yet at once he began again to lash the gallant bay. _ Tf he had been a better rider, a more skillful one, he _ would have got as much speed out of his animal, and not fretted it. A fretted horse, like a fretted man, tires - quickly through nerve exhaustion. Tanner had been fretting and tiring the black horse— he always did it, without intending it; but with Merriwell on its back, this was changed. There could be no doubt that the black was fleet: as it began to spurn the ground with its pounding feet, Merriwell discovered that he had under the saddle as fast a little horse as he ever rode. He had known, by inspection, and by what Tanner had told him, that the handsome horse came of a line of wild mustangs of the plains; those wonderfully fast and untiring little horses that were once to be found in herds, on the same buffalo grass ranges that fed the native They were gone from the plains now, but they had many descendants. Crooning to the black beauty until it settled into a _ steady stride, Merriwell then gave it the rein, and it _ flashed along like a black arrow. _ When Barnett, beginning to tire his horse by his lashing and nervous clamor to it, turned from the narrowing trail out into the buffalo grass, because he saw that his pur- suer was gaining, Merriwell swung the black off to the right at the same time; so that he gained, by making the angle, a thing Barnett had not thought of. . ; The grayish buffalo grass was short and crisp, and here it was almost as smooth as a carpet, the ground nearly as level as a billiard table; not a tree, not a house _ broke the horizon, only the low slope that led from the ci valley to the mesa, on the north. On the south was the _ fiver, a mere bed of sand, with little water in it; and “beyond it rolling sand hills, iat was here, out of this sand-choked, waterless river, “it ‘tabi be seh he gave that a fleeting halal: as : drove on in pursuit of Barnett, a hot, pursuit, and he hoped a short one, for now he was rapidly gaining. The fugitive swung farther round toward the north, sinting at the mesa slope; he had been afraid to try the ver, dreading a trap of quicksands. The mesa, if he uld gain it, was a vast, dry upland plain, rolling on “put his hand back to make sure of the revolver as carrying. He did not intend to be taken. en halfway, to the slope—Barnett found the valley ively wide—Merriwell began to close in on him. TOP WEEKLY. black’s satin coat was shin- running powers seemed un- been spending in fighting and The sweat, too, but its had white lather of sweat, ing with abated. The Tanner was being given to this mad race, ‘energy it Texas found wonderfully serviceable in it. When the distance still closed, and Barnett heard Mer- riwell shout a command to surrender, he wheeled round, jerked out his revolver, and sent a shot at his pursuer. For the first time he knew who was driving him so hard. “Merriwell!” he said, and snapped another shot back at him. They went whistling wildly by; accurate firing with a revolver is not the easy thing many think it to be, when on horseback, with the horse jumping on at its highest speed; few men could hit a house. Merriwell bent low on the neck of his horse, to minimize the danger; for a wild shot may do the work, even when accurate firing is not to be expected. He had no weapon but the reata. This he loosed as he drove along. Again his command to the fugitive to halt rang out. te Fe Another shot came at him. Barnett was losing time doing this; for every time he turned to fire, he involuntarily drew on-the rein, to steady himself, and the bay horse slowed; so that after each shot Merriwell was perceptibly nearer. Discovering this, and seeing even with his panic- scrazed mind that he could never get up the slope without being overtaken, Barnett drew his horse round with a heavy perk on the bit; and rode at Merriwell, lifting his re- volver as he came. Foam flecked his lips, insanely. “Til kill you!” he shouted, when he felt that he was so near that he could not possibly miss. ty But the lariat was flying, even as the words left, his lips — and his revolver was raised. Striking the revolver hand, and his dark eyes glittered the hurled noose deliver- ing a'blow with as much force as if it had been a whirling club, the revolver was knocked to the ground, exploding © as it fell; for, as Barnett’s hand and was struck and jerked by the rope, his finger had been pressing the trigger. The black broncho drove recklessly at him; the horses met with a shock, though the black was swerved at the moment of inact; then the two men were on the ground, — for Barnett had fallen, and Merriwell leaped down and ee rushed upon him. Having lost his revolver, Barnett now was trying to get out a knife, when Merriwell’s strong hands pinioned him. — “Surrender!” said Merry. When it was not obeyed, the reata came into use, and Barnett’s arms were being wound round and round. with the free end of it. CHAPTER XII. AFTERWARD. Out in the river ‘Hiad: as he was returning with his — prisoner, Frank Merriwell was met by Bill Higgins, ly Diamond and Browning, by Badger, by Dunnerwust and — Gallup, together with other men, on horseback, forming a posse that Higgins had collected hastily, and with which | he had set out. Bp s madly. driven tee was aire ay in Loe But there had been an , invertigation of the rrr rere - Sse far as the courthouse. _ breast. NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY. the showman’s tent, while the horses and men were being assembled ; an investigation ‘made by Higgins, as marshal, advised and generally superintended by Hans Dunnerwust, who considered himself, somewhat with good reasons, the most important man there at the time. That investigation had confirmed the worst fears of Dunnerwust and Dave Dindry. “Idt dit!” Dunnerwust bellowed, as he came galloping, with the others, up to Merriwell and the prisoner. “Idt vos yoost as I saidt. I seen idt, undt idt vos so. Undt you haf godt him! Dot iss dere willain vot haf kilted his vife fairst in Yack Diamondt’s room by der trunk, undt dhen by der trunk in der show. Hangkin iss too goot vor him.” “We'll let the law say about that, Dunnerwust,”’ Mer- riwell advised. “You aren’t hurt?” said Diamond, looking at Merriwell anxiously. “[’m all right,” Merry assured him. Barnett was bound fast’ in the saddle of/the bay horse, which Merriwell, riding the black, had been leading. The hapless prisoner glared at Higgins and the men who were with him. “T don’t talk,’ he said; “I don’t have to; and I’m en- titled to a lawyer; you can’t prove against me any of the things you're saying.” “We'll let the law ahd ther courts decide that, too, as Merriwell says,” Higgins replied gravely. Then he added grimly: “But if you had killed Merriwell in this case, I know some Kansas boys that’d never have let you git as As fer lawyers, Skyline is full of ‘em; you can take your pick.” * * Ok * * * * Jt developed later that Hans Dunnerwust’s guesses as to the facts in this case were correct in nearly ‘every par- ticular. “Haow did he do it?” Gallup demanded, when the truth came out; “haow did he ever hide away so much sense as thet in his old Dutch cabbige head, without anybody knowin’ it?” “Me?” Dunnerwust hammered himself proudly on the “T haf got me der insdinctiveness uff a tedectif.” THE END. Another story that will delight old readers and new will be found in the tlext issue of this weekly, No. 111, ‘out September 12th. It is entitled “Frank Merriwell’s _ River Problem; or, The Disappearance of Jack Diamond.” i Do not miss it. USED TO THEM. ' The other day a fraudulent genius having unsuccess- fully explored one hotel, boldly entered another and called - for dinner. He was astonished to see the waiter te terh him with a plate of soup in one hand, a towel in the other, at a’ marae saat syringe under his arm, The waiter $ nose. As our friend had not as yet tackled his meal, _modestly inquired the meaning of the open hand. ~ . in advance! was ce terse and peremptory reply. “Can’t you wait till I get through my meal first?” “No, sir. Our rules are positive. On the delivery of the soup pay down the cash.” “Singular promptitude,” he muttered. Then, reddening up with natural indigration, he said: “J suppose if I don’t pay you, you'll brain me with that pump of yours?” “Not at all, sir. Through this instrument we secure our business on a cash basis. Your money, if you please.” He thought he had the dead wood on the soup, anyhow, and dipped his spoon for the first mouthful. Before the spoon reached the broth, however, he was transfixed at seeing the waiter coolly introduce the point of his syringe into his plate, and pulling the suction handle ‘out to its fullest extent, the soup suddenly disappeared, leaving his plate as empty as his stomach. He turned around, but the waiter had passed to another customer, and our friend left the establishment in the biggest kind of a hurry. THE FIRE FIGHTER. By BERTRAM LEBHAR. (This interesting story was commenced in No. 107 of the NEW Tip TOP WEEKLY. Back numbers can be obtained from your news dealer or the publishers.) CHAPTER XI. A BAD SITUATION. Bull Donovan was so much disturbed in mind by Larry’s announced intention of calling on Miss Florence Brooks that he was stirred up to the point of conquering his — bashfulness and proposing to that young woman the very next day after the quarrel. The answer that he received to his proposal, while not quite as definite as he could have wished, he regarded as decidedly encouraging. “If I marry a fireman, Bull,” she told him, “he'll have to — : be more than a private in the ranks. A fellow who can’t win promotion is not the kind of a man whom I'd care to have for a husband.” “How high up would he have to be?” demanded Don- ovan. She laughed at his crestfallen look. “Well, of course, being a captain’s daughter, I suppose I ought to insist upon my future husband being a captain, too,” she said play- fully; “but I won’t be too exacting, Bull. I guess Pa. be satisfied with the rank of lieutenant.” “T’'ll begin studying for the exams to-morrow,” he jae very earnestly. “I’m going to be a lieutenant or know — the reason why. In the meantime, Florence, can I con~ _ sider you engaged to me?” “Indeed you cannot!” she answered emphatically. “ haven’t said that I’ll marry you at all, Bull Donovan. I simply said that the fireman I do marry will have to hold the rank of lieutenant at the very least. That is quite a different thing.” “Well, if I get the promotion will I stand any show? he demanded eagerly. “I'll answer that question—when you get the promo- tion,” she replied, with a tantalizing laugh. — a He had to be satisfied with that. The very next da RT a NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY. tion, and looked them over carefull to see how many of the questions he could .answer offhand, and how much studying he would have to do to make good at the next contest for promotion. He sighed dismally as he saw how very difficult the questions were. He was not very strong on “book learn- ing”; it had required three desperate attempts on his part before he was able to get through the simple mental ex- aminations for entering the fire department. “T guess it’s goin’ to be a tough job,” he muttered to him- self, as he sat in the sitting room at company quarters scowling at the specimen civil-service papers. His gaze, traveling over the big room, settled at length upon Larry Harvey, who was sitting at a table some yards away, studiously perusing a small red volume. At sight of that book, a sudden suspicion gripped Dono- van, and caused him to jump to his feet and begin to walk agitatedly up and down the room. He suspected that that little red book was a textbook on the civil-service examinations; and that Larry, too, had made up his mind to begin to study for promotion. If such was the case, he mused, wasn't it extremely likely that Fireman Harvey’s motive in doing so was the same as his own—that he, too, had been told by Florence Brooks that she wouldn’t marry anybody under the rank of lieutenant? Determined to satisfy his suspicions, Donovan stole up ' to where Larry was sitting, and, glancing over the latter’s shoulder, saw that the volume was, indeed, a civil-service manual. “The nerve of him!” muttered peabean to himself. “The confounded nerve of him! Only in the department a few days, and already thinkin’ of promotion. He’s got more impudence than-a dozen.” At length his anxiety to find out whether Fireman Har- vey was merely glancing through the volume in order to while away a little leisure time, or was actually preparing to qualify himself for a higher rank as\soon as he was eligible to take the examinations, became unbearable. He and Larry had not exchanged a word since their quarrel of the preceding day. Nevertheless, his anxiety getting the better of his pride, he decided to enter into conversation with his rival. “What you doin’, readin’?” he began. “Doesn’t look as if I’m roller skating, does it?” retorted Harvey, scarcely glancing up from his book. Donovan scowled. “I suppose,” he sneered, pointing . to the volume, “that you’re lookin’ for Chief Forbes’ job already. Want to be a superior officer before you’re even a fireman, don’t you? Buttinskys like you make mé sick. If you had any decency, you’d keep out of the exams for a few_years and give older men at the game a chance.” Larry closed the book in his hand, turned in his chair, and fixed his gaze upon the speaker, They were all alone in the big room, their comrades happening to be engaged _ elsewhere at that moment. ' _. Now, see here, Donovan,” he said quietly, “I don’t want any words with you. We are going to fight just as soon as you are able; until then I want you to leave me alone.” “Pll leave you alone or not, just as I please!” shouted Bull savagely. “If you think youre goin’ to steal my girl away from me just because you’ve got more book learnin’ than me, I’ll show you that you’vé got another guess com- in’ before I get through with you.” “If you are referring to Miss Brooks, she’s not your — girl,” retorted Larry. “You have no right to refer to her as ox He did not finish the sentence, for Donovan, considering this answer sufficient confirmation of his suspicion that Larry was already a candidate for the girl’s hand, and beside himself with rage at the discovery, raised his huge fist, and struck the young man on the cheek. Harvey jumped angrily to his feet, sending the chair to the floor with a crash. He was about to return that blow; but the sight of his assailant’s bandaged left arm caused him to restrain himself, and his upraised fist did not descend. “You coward!” he cried scornfully. “You know very well that I cannot hit you back while you are disabled!” “Hit back all you want,” retorted Donovan. “I can’t wait until this arm of mine is mended. I’m going to give you a thrashing right now—single-handed.” He came at Larry again with his uninjured right hand. The latter, not wishing to fight under these unequal condi- tions, but not at all willing to submit to a beating, rushed at his assailant, seized him by the throat, and, half chok- ing him, sent him staggering backward. : He fell to the floor with a crash, landing on the back of his head, much to the consternation of Larry, who had not meant to put so much force into his repulse. “What does this mean?” cried a deep voice from the doorway, as Donovan, his hard head not much hurt by his fall, which would have fractured the skull of an ordinary man, started to scramble to his. feet. Larry turned to ascertain the cause of this interrup- tion; and, to his great dismay, saw standing in the door- way a group consisiting of Chief Forbes, some ladies, and Captain Brooks. The big chief was conducting his fair companions on a tour of inspection of various engine and hook-and-ladder companies throughout the city. Naturally, therefore, he was angered to find such a spectacle confronting his guests. “Is this the kind of discipline you maintain here?” he . demanded hotly, turning to the captain of, the company. “It—it is a most unusual occurrence, I assure you, chief,” stammered the father of Florence Brooks. “I shall prefer charges against both men, of course.” “T should say you would!” snapped Forbes. ings-on are a disgrace to the department.” “But why against both men?” protested one. of the ladies, “Surely that poor fellow there does not deserve — to be punished just because he was brutally attacked by that young ruffian, See, Mr. Forbes, he is crippled. His arm is in a sling.” Forbes nodded. “Such go- I didn’t notice that before.” He took a few steps into’the room and glared at (Harvey. “You're a fine specimen of manhood, aren’t you?” he “So it is. said scornfully. you can do?” Then, turning to the captain, he said: ferring charges against both of them. this man alone.” Larry opened his mouth with the intention of explain- ing, but changed his mind and remained silent. oy It was no use being a squealer, he decided. It was ‘un- fortunate that the chief had not arrived on the scene in time to learn the true state of affairs; but, as long a: such was the case, he might as well take medicine like . “Is attacking a one-armed man the best “Never mind pre-_ Make them against NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY aman. Jt wouldn’t do at all to. act like a whining school- boy, and declare that it was all the other fellow’s fault. “After all,” he said to-himself,: as :the chief and his party departed from: the room, “I am lucky that Forbes didn’t recognize me. That would have hurt much more than the punishment I’ll get down at headquarters.” Bull Donovan, regretting this unforeseen result of his display of temper, said gruffly to Larry: “IT am sorry to have got. you into this mess. look; for anything like that, of course.’ Larry smiled disdainfully. “If you were half a man, Donovan, you'd have spoken up and told them how it was that I happened to push you down.” “Aw! What: would have been the use of that?” re- torted the other, somewhat shamefacedly. “It would have done you no good for me to go to work and get myself in bad, too. They’d have made a complaint against you, just the same. They’d have accused both of us of quar- reling and fighting in company quarters, and both of us would have had to go downtown on trial instead of only I didn’t “I’m not worrying about that part of it,” declared Har- vey, “What gets me sore is the fact that by keeping silent _you’ve made me look like a coward in the chief’s. eyes.” Bull made no answer to this. His. conscience was troubling him somewhat; but at the same time he did not feel exactly sorry at the way things had turned out. . If he had been tried and found guilty on this charge, it would have been a black mark on his record, and would have counted heavily against him at the examination for pro- motion which meant so much to him. Now he would escape scot-free, while his rival would have to. go on trial. “What kind of a defense are you goin’ to put up?” he inquired anxiously. “I suppose you’re goin’ to snitch on me just because you’re in bad yourself, eh?” _ “Don’t worry,” replied Larry, turning on his heel; don’t happen to be that kind.” CHAPTER XII IN BAD WITH EVERYBODY. ‘When Larry went before the commissioner to answer + to the charge of being guilty of conduct prejudicial to jad good order and discipline, he did not mention the fact P that Donovan had struck him. ‘ Donoyan, called as a witness, was the first to testify. The big trial room at fire headquarters was filled with fire- _ men awaiting hearings on various charges, and their wit- nesses. Although they were in trouble themselves, they leaned forward eagerly to listen to what promised to be a most interesting case. _ Bull was rather nervous as he gave his testimony. He ee told the commissioner that there had been some words between the defendant and himself, and that the latter had grabbed him by the throat and thrown him backward. This was true enough, of course, as far as it went; but Donovan took care not to go too far. Then Harvey was given a hearing. He admitted that the ae _ testimony of Donovan was practically true, except that he had no intention of hurling him to the floor, “But you admit that you seized him by the throat? 2” de- ma nek: ibe commissioner, . “Well, sir, words.” “What was the quarrel about?” “It was—well, it was a personal matter. can say about it, Mr. Commissioner.’ “Have you and. he ever fought before?” ‘ Larry hesitated. He did not like that question, for -he foresaw to what it was leading. Nevertheless, he knew that he must answer it “Yes, sir, we have,” he said, in-a low tone. You had a fight with gloves some time ago to decide who was the better man, did you not?” the commissioner went on; “and you were knocked out by Donovan?” Harvey flushed at this reference to the fight in the cellar of the engine house. He wondered how the com- missioner had heard about it. He did not know that ru- mors Of that encounter had spread all over the depart- ment. Conscious of the fact that every eye in the trial room was upon him, Larry maintained an embarrassed silence. “Come, my. man,” cried the commissioner sharply, “you must answer my question! Isn’t it true that you were once knocked out by Fireman Donovan in a fair fight?”. Harvey nodded. “Yes, it is true,” he replied sullenly, “And so, seeing that you had no chance against him — when he had the use of both of his arms, you took ad- vantage of the fact that he was disabled to settle scores with him, didn’t you?” demanded the commissioner, with a sneer, as Donovan has testified, -we> had some That's all I “That is not true!” cried Larry hotly. “It wasn’t for — that reason at all that we quarreled. If Donovan hadn’t h——” He checked himself, suddenly realizing that if he went ahead with what he had been about to say, in order to clear himself of this unjust insinuation, he must necessarily break his promise not to involve Donovan. He turned, and glanced appealingly at the latter, hoping — that he would come to his rescue. pe But never a word said Donovan. He stood there, look-'— ing very uncomfortable and ‘somewhat shamefaced; and — he avoided Larry’s eyes when the latter turned to him. For a few seconds there was a profound silence in the — trial room, everybody waiting eagerly for the defendant — to speak. ; Seeing that he remained grimly silent, the commissioner exclaimed crisply: “Well, Fireman Harvey, is there anything more you wish to say?” “No, sir. I guess I have nothing more tO say—except that it is not true that I attacked Donovan with any in- tention of getting even with him on account of—that other fight.” The commissioner smiled incredulously, Larry, glane- ing at his comrades on the benches—firemen from all parts — of the city—saw that their faces, too, wore an lncredsleme: sneer, Then his gaze fell upon the reporter’s table at widgets three young men were ‘busily writing—writing the story — of the coward who had waited until his conqueror in the ring was disabled in order to settle his grudge against | him. The thought that his folks and his friends outside ‘the } department would read of his disgrace almost goaded him 5 into crying out the truth. He felt that he could not bear this unjust imputation against his manhood, i. ee BO: he’ ee he: would not! be a a “snitcher.” will fight foul—well, that’s a different matter. SEE Ee NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY. worthy as Donovan was of being protected by his silence, he would not betray him. “Whatever your motive,’ came the sharp voice of the commissioner to his ears, “I find you guilty, Fireman Har- vey, of conduct prejudical to good order and discipline, and I fine you ten days’ pay. If the victim of your attack had been an able-bodied man, I would have let you off with a much lighter penalty, inasmuch as this is your first of- fense and you are young in the department. But under the circumstances I carinot extend to you any leniency. That is all. Call the next case.” As Larry stepped out of the trial room, a couple of firemen who were also going out, remarked audibly as they passed him: “There’s the coward who fights crip- ples.” “T can thrash either of you—or both of you together, if you like!” cried the miserable young man hotly. “Better wait until we break our arms,” jeered one of the men. Larry clenched his fists; but regained some of his self- control, and did not come to blows with them. After all, he thought, what was the use of getting into fresh trouble? To his great dismay and grief, Harvey soon discovered that -the attitude of these two firemen was the attitude of the fire department in general toward him. News of what had taken place in the trial room at headquarters réached every engine and hook-and-ladder company in the city. Nearly every man in the depart- ment knew Bull Donovan either\personally or by reputa- tion. There were few who really liked him; but, never- theless, they looked with scorn upon the fellow who, as they believed, had chosen such a cowardly means of set- tling a grudge against him. Even the men of Harvey’s own company, with whom the young man had been growing very popular, treated him with painful coldness after this incident. They, too, had no particular love for Donovan, whose bullying and somewhat morose disposition was not calcu- lated. to win the friendship of his comrades; but, being _ brave men themselves, they could not tolerate a coward in their midst. “If he was just an ordinary coward,” said Pete Dailey, the burly driver of the engine, discussing Larry with “the bunch” up in the sitting room, “if he had quit cold at a fire, for instance, it wouldn’t have been so bad. A feller .can’t help havin’ a yellow streak. That’s in his blood, and he’s to be pitied for it. But a feller who is vicious enough to take advantage of an enemy’s helplessness—a feller who That kind of a coward is worse than a snake in the grass.” -Bull Donovan heard these harsh criticisms of Larry Harvey; but he continued to keep silent as to the true story of that encounter. - To be quite just to him, he would have liked to have cleared the name of his generous rival; but he was afraid to do so—afraid that if he spoke up and told the truth now, the scorn of his comrades would be transferred from _ _ Larry Harvey to himself; afraid also that the real facts might reach the ears of the commissioner and cause him to order a new trial. And there was. one other reason which prevented Bull oe coming to the defense of the wronged young man; €ven a more potent reason than those above stated—the thought of what Florence Brooks would think of him if she were to learn that he had allowed Larry to suffer in order to shield himself. He knew that all hope of his winning her would be lost if she ever learned of his rival’s generous sacrifice and his, Donovan’s, display of moral cowardice. “No. I’m sorry for him,” he said to himself. “Mighty sorry that things have turned out this way; but I can’t afford to say a word. If Harvey ever tries to spring the truth, I’ll have to deny it. I’ll say it’s a lie that I struck him and that he knocked me down in order to protect himself. It will be his word against mine; and there is no reason why I shouldn’t be believed.” But Larry did not make it necessary for Bull thus to perjure himself. Unhappy as he was because of his com- rades’ attitude toward him, he made no attempt to defend himself, At! the trial at headquarters it had been merely because of a somewhat quixotic determination not to snitch «on his enemy that he kad maintained silence; but now he was mad—mad clean through that his brother firemen should be so ready to condemn him; and his pride alone would have prevented him from trying to regain their favor. “They haven’t even asked me to explain,” he thought bitterly. “They take it for granted that I am the kind of man the commissioner said I was. Oh, well, if they want to think it, let ’em. What do I care?” Even when his best friend in the department, Tom Brooks, came to him and told him that he, for one,.did not believe that Larry was “as bad as all that,” and asked him for the truth, the wronged young man shook his head, and said: “I’m sorry, Tom, but I haven’t a word to say.” He would have liked to have cleared himself in this good friend’s eyes, at least; but there were two reasons which caused him to refrain from doing so. In the first place, he knew that Tom Brooks was not the kind of fellow to remain silent and let a comrade suffer unjustly. Once in possession of the real story, he would have denounced Donovan publicly, and the chances were that he would also have considered it his: duty to go to the commissioner and demand a new trial for Larry. The latter did not want that. At least, not under those circum- stances. / The second reason why he did not confide in Brooks was—the latter’s sister. ‘Florence Brooks had shown that she, too, was. against him. She had visited company quarters to see a father that morning; and Larry, who happened to be on the apparatus floor. when she entered, remembering how cordial she had been on the occasion of their last meeting, advanced toward her eagerly, a smile of welcome upon his. face. But she passed him by haughtily, and said to him over her shoulder: “Please do not speak to me. I have no use for a coward who would attack a disabled man.” “So she believes it, too!” said Larry to himself,’ Wie a bitter laugh. 3 Partly because she was Tom Brooks’ sister and partly because—although he himself was not aware of it—he _ had really fallen in love with her at first sight, he had — been hoping that Florence would refuse to accept the Pop- : ular version of his encounter with Donovan., — ; It was a great disappointment to him to find that. such | was not the case; but his pride prevented him fone Bros f testing his innocence to her. oe () Ww Cr ur “She’s just as bad as the rest—just as ready to think the worst of a fellow,” he muttered. “Oh, well! What do I care what she thinks, anyway? She’s Bull Donovan's girl. She’s nothing to me!” CHAPTER.XIM. HIS FATHER’S SON; A week after his trial, Larry Harvey's company was called upon to fight one of the biggest fires that New York has ever seen; a fire which engaged the efforts of more than half the engine and. hook-and-ladder com- panies on Manhattan Island. It was a big “skyscraper” office building which was ablaze. It was situated in the district of Larry’s com- pany, and he and his comrades were the first of the fire fighters to arrive on the scene. When they got there, the fire did not seem to amount to much. Larry, although he had by this time obtained etlough experience to realize that fires, like human beings, cannot be judged by outward appearances, thought at first that it was going to be an easy job to subdue that blaze, which seemed to be confined to one floor alone, the seventh. But the interior of the building had been burning sul- lenly for two hours of the early night, before a little tongue of flame and a puff of smoke appeared at one of the win- dows on the seventh floor and attracted the attention of a policeman, who rushed to the signal box on the corner and turned in an- alarm. Before Harvey’s company could get the hose coupled to the hydrant, every window on the seventh and eighth floors was belching flame and smoke. The battalion chief, as soon as he arrived on the scené and sized up the situation, sent in a second alarm—a call for more men and apparatus. Third, fourth, and fifth alarms followed in quick suc- cession; but, in spite of the reénforcements they brought, the flames continued to gain headway, spread to all the upper floors, and burst through the roof. The fire had got beyond the control of the gallant army of rubber-coated, grimy-faced warriors. New York’s fire department suffered that night one of the worst defeats in its history; but it was not the fault of the men or their doughty officers. Never was witnessed a more plucky and persistent fight than was waged at that fire; but Harvey and his com- _ rades were engaged in a hopeless struggle, for they were fighting without ammunition. A soldier, when his supply of bullets has run out, can still use his sword or bayonet for a last stand; but what can a fire fighter hope to accomplish ‘against his relentless enemy when he is without water? That was what was the matter at that now historic fire. The supply of water was lacking. There was enough of it in the hydrants, to be sure, but the unusual amount of “pressure needed to send it to the, upper floors of the flaming skyscraper resulted in the hose bursting. It was ‘new hose which had only been in use a few days, and it proved to be astonishingly weak. The streets were filled with huge fans of water, which sprang from a dozen different leaks in each line of hose; and, as a result, the streams which sprang from the noz- zles were so feeble that they proved sadly ineffectual ground. against the flames that were roaring high up above the_ NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY. 25 Seven of Larry Harvey’s comrades were killed at that fire; crushed beneath a mass of débris when the upper floors fell through without giving them sufficient warning to escape. Larry himself and three of his company had the nar- rowest escape from death that they ever dreamed of. "hey were stranded on a corner of the burning roof, which fell in just two minutes after they had been rescued by means of a life line which their comrades shot from the roof of an adjoining building. After the fire was all over, which«was when the tall building was reduced to a shell of tottering walls, and the wearied men had returned to their quarters very sad because of the loss of their comrades, old Captain Brooks, tears streaming down his grimed face, shook his fist sav- agely, and cried: “Those poor fellows were murdered—murdered by the man who sold that rotten hose to the city. “Yes,” he went on fiercely, “that new lot of hose which we received last Tuesday was rotten. If it had been full strength, even to-night’s pressure wouldn’t have burst it, and ‘my poor men might be alive now.” “Who is the dirty, swindling hound who sold that hose to the city, killing firemen for the sake of a few more filthy dollars?” growled one of the men. “It was Mike Harvey, the contractor,” replied Brooks. “T happen to know that he got the contract.” “Mike Harvey—my father!” gasped Larry. heavens! It can’t be true!” “Great CHAPTER XIV. ROUGH JUDGMENT. Everybody in the little group of weary, depresséd fire fighters stared at Larry in astonishment. Until now he had succeeded in keeping from them all the fact that he was the son of Mike Harvey, the well-— known and wealthy contractor. Not even to his friend, Tom Brooks, had he confided this secret. He had wished his brother firemen to suppose that his circumstances were the same as their own, for he feared that if it became known that he was the son and heir of a rich man they might hesitate to look upon him as one of themselves. Now, however, his dismay and horror at Captain Brooks’ accusation of his father had caused him to blurt out the truth, and his comrades looked at him half incredulously. “You—Mike Harvey’s son!” exclaimed the elder Brooks. “T didn’t know that. How is it you never said so be- — fore?” 5 , “T didn’t think it was necessary,” replied Larry. “You were ashamed of it, I guess,” declared the cap- tain, with an ugly laugh, for the old man was beside himself with grief at the loss of his men. “I don’t blame _ you for tryin’ to hide the fact that you are the son of that dirty crook!” Larry’s face was very pale. “My father isn’t a crook, Captain Brooks!” he cried hoarsely. “I can’t permit any- ° body to say that in my hearing!” “He’s worse than a crook!” was the savage retort. “He’s a traitor to the city! He’s a murderer! The blood of — those seven brave fellows is on his head. He killed ’em - just as surely as if he had taken a gun and shot them. If we'd had proper weapons to fight that blaze with, it never would have got away from us, and those poor boys _ wouldn’t have been sacrificed. What chance did they have © 26 NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY. What chance did any of lying with that rotten, leaking hose? us have? It’s a wonder that there ain’t more of us dead in those smoking ruins.” “But are you sure that it was my father who sold the hose to the city?” cried Larry. “I can’t believe that he would do anything dishonorable.” “There ain’t no doubt about it,” replied the captain. “IT tell you I know positively that Mike Harvey got that con- tract. And so you're his son? You're a fine family—the father a crook, who puts our. lives in danger for the sake of a few extra dollars; the son a cowatd who fights crip- ples. What in blazes did you join the department for, any- way? We don’t want your kind!” The other men nodded bitter approval of his words. “Yes, what right has he to be wearin’ the uniform? We don’t want the likes of him among us.” Fireman Tom Brooks was the only man present to speak a word in Larry’s defense. “Say, you fellows make me tired!” he exclaimed indig- nantly. “What’s the tse of rubbin’ it into Harvey? Even if his father did sell the rotten hose to the city, is he to blame for that? Is he responsible for his father’s doings? Didn’t he risk his life as much as any of us at that fite? That rotten hose came near being the death of him,, too. If it hadn’t been for us seein’ him up there on the roof, and shooting the life line to him just before the roof fell in, he’d be lying there now in those ruins along with the other. poor lads. That shows, boys, how unfair it is to blame him.” This argument, in spite of its unquestionable logic, did not carry much weight with the angry men., They were not in 2 mood for arguments. They were maddened by the loss of their comrades and by the bitter remembrance of the defeat they had suffered at the fire, and they couldn’t help visiting their wrath upon the son of the man who was responsible for those things. Even Captain Brooks, generally kind-hearted and just, Was not iti‘luenced by his son’s words. He pointed his fin- get at Larry, and growled: “If you’re wise, young man, you'll get out of the depart- ment. It don’t seem decent that Mike Harvey’s son should be wearin’ the same uniform as those brave fellows who, owe their death to him. It’s true, as Tom says, that you ain't to blame, but you're your father’s son, and every time we-look: at your face we won't be able to help thinkin’ of our seven murdered comrades.” — “Yes, that’s it,’ chimed in one of the men. get out. If he don’t, we'll force him out.” “Let him TO BE CONTINUED. HE FAILED TO. PASS. When a verdant youth called at the office of the Plum- bago and applied for a position the other day, the editor, who wasn’t very busy just then, put him through an ex- amination to determine his fitness. “Who discovered America?” “Klumbus. Pshaw! ask me a harder question.” “Who was the first man?” ~“Adam. Why, mister, I know all——” . “What was his other name?” be “His other name? Why, he didn’t have none.” “Yes, he did. His other name was Ebenezer—Ebenezer Adam, esquire, late of Paradise Center.” “How many bones are there in the human body?” “Well, I forget just now, but I did know, wunst.”’ “What! don’t you know that? Every schoolboy knows there are 7,482,654,941 bones in an ordinary man, when he isn’t eating mackerel. A man who snores has one more bone than other people.” “What bone is that?” “The trombone, of course. It is situated somewhere in the nose. You won’t forget that, will you?” He said he wouldn’t. “How long would it take a mud turtle to cross the desert with a small orphan boy to touch him up behitid with a red-hot poker ?” “Well, look here, Mr. Editor, if I had a slate and pencil I could figure that out; but hanged if I am much on men- tal arithmetic.” “Slate and pencil! Did you ever see a slate and pencil about a sanctum? Nonsense. Well, we'll let that. question slip. J shall now ask you one more question, and if you prove equal to it, you can peel off your coat and sail in. Well, sir, if two diametrical circles with octagonal peri- pheries should collide with centrifugal idiosyncrasy—or, to put it plainer-—” “Put it as plain as you can, boss.” “Well, say it collides with an asphyxiated desuetude— what effect would the catastrophe exert on the crystallized codfish suspended by the tail from the homogeneous rafters of the empyrean?” The young man waited to hear no more,: but, grabbing his hat, he made-a wild dash for the street and disappeared. THE HORSE WAS LATE. A good many years ago the brigade major of Gibraltar, who was a strict disciplinarian, was accustomed, whénever he could see any soldier under the influence of drink, to scribble on a piece of paper: “Please confine this man for drunkenness,” put it in an envelope, and, accosting the inebriated person, desire him to deliver the note to the commander of the guard, with the result that he would be confined under lock and key, and brought up before his commanding officer the next day to receive punishment. On one occasion he met an Irishman slightly intoxicated, scribbled out the usual note, and, calling on the man, re- quested him to deliver it to the noncommissioned officer commanding the South Port guard. Pat took the letter, turned down’ the next street, and meeting the brigade major’s own groom, a strict teeto- taler, asked him as a favor, as he happened to be giong in another direction, to give that note to the person to whom it was addressed. The unsuspecting groom took the note and delivered it, with the result that he was immediately confined and kept under lock and key, The next day happened to be hunting day, and the brigade major was always anxious to be in time for the — meet, but waited in vain for his horse. At last he sus- pected something was wrorig, and, on making inquiries, discovered what had happened. He at once ordered the man to be. released, and tried in vain to find out who the.other was. He lost his day’s amusement, and it was: terharkable that after that nobody else: was thé bearer ‘of: his: ‘own confinement order, PAK § a i ee «65 ete ah Books for Trainers and Athletes. So many inquiries reach us from week to week con- cerning the various manuals on athletic development, which we publish, that we have decided to keep a list of them standing here. Any number can be had by mail by remitting 10 cents, and 3 cents postage, for each copy, to the publishers. “Frank Merriwell’s Book of Physical Development.” “The Art of Boxing and Self-defense,” by Professor Donovan. “Physical Health Culture,’ by Professor Fourmen. Dog Has Room in Good Hotel. - William Walker Smith, United States consul general at Santo Domingo, had a room in the Waldorf Astoria Hotel, New York, for his big Belgian police dog, while he was visiting there. The dog is said to be the first animal that has ever been allowed above the first floor of the famous hotel. The dog saved Smith’s life, by dragging him from the ocean when he was drowning, and since that time has never been parted from his master. It required consider- able argument and much more money to persuade the hotel management to take the big dog as a guest. i Best Weekly Published. : Dear Epitor: I have read Trp Tor for six years, and I think it is the best weekly published. Although I like all the Tie Top characters, I would like ‘to hear about Jack Diamond, the Arlingtons, Sparkfair, Bart Hodge, afid the other céltdge chums of Frank and Dick, Wishing Tip Top and its editor a long life, I remain, a true Tip Topper, JoHN INGHAM. 38 Mill Street, South Groveland, Mass. The story in this issue should have pleased you, and I guess it did. ‘Babe Bites Dynamite; Dies. \ When William Clever, found a stick of dynamite, he did the naturak thing—put aged two, of Dayton, Ohio, it in his mouth and chewed it. As a result he is dead, and Fred Clever, aged six, and Grace Clever, aged four, _ were fatally injured. John Wargney’s right hand was _ blowrt off. : Would Not be Without It, _ Dear Epitor : T ae read the New Tre Top Wrens it, I cannot quit until I have read it all through. I always liked Clancy, but I like Merriwell and June Arlington the best. Why do& you not start a club so that the boy and girl readers could write each other, and become more friendly? Would you please send me a set of post cards? Trusting that this letter will be printed, I remain, a true Tip Topper, F. J. Morrissey. 594 St. Antoine Street, Montreal, P. Q. We have mailed you the cards, and we trust you will be pleased with them. While we have not started such a club as you suggest,, many of our readers who wished to hear from other readers have written to the Compass and expressed this desire. These letters have been printed, and, we venture to say, the readers who wished to hear from other readers did hear from them, and to their heart’s content. » Mr. Cupid Makes a Speed Record. J. F. Harper, a railroad man of Mt. Carmel, Ill, was seated on a bench in a park at Evansville, Ind. He saw a pretty girl and spoke to her, The girl, who was Miss Inez Hope, visiting friends in Evansville, returned his salutation. A few minutes later Harper had proposed and had been accepted. Within a few more minutes they were married at the courthouse. They will live at Mt. Carmel. Praises for “Tip Top.” Dear Epitor: I have been a reader of Tie Tor for some time, and will say it is the best weekly ever pub- lished: Yours truly, GrorGE BLASKA | Sun Prairie, Wis. Auto Leaps Thirty-foot Bank. Mrs. Karl Sturz, of Zanesville, Ohio, driving an auto- mobile containing her husband and their five small chil- dren, lost control of the wheel. The automobile overturned | down a thirty-foot embankment east of Newark. Sturz — and Mrs. Sturz were badly hurt. The children were unin- — jured. © \ Clean and Helpful. Dear Epitor: I am writing to tell you how I like your “King of Weeklies.” I have been reading it ever since I was ten years old, and I think it is the best, clean- minded, helpful, outdoor magazine there is, or has ever been published, and as long as I have a five-cent piece in my pocket I will continue to be an ardent admirer of the Merriwells, Burt S., and Trp Top. ey What is the proper measurements of a boy ine feet nine , 28 . NEW TIP TOP: WEEKLY. in his stocking feet? Hoping this will be in print in the next Tip Top, | remain, a loyal Tip Topper, Harry S. Hours, 87 West Eighth Street, Salem, Ohio. Thank you for your words of praise, and may your pockets always be full of nickels. Your correct measurements should be: Weight, 152.7 pounds; neck, 14.8 inches; chest, contracted, 35.9 inches; ° chest, expanded, 39.5 inches; waist, 31.4 inches; forearms, 11.2 inches; upper arms, down, 11.7 inches; upper arms, up, 13.1 inches; thighs, 21.5 inches; calves, 14.8 inches. Watches His Father Drown. Hearing his father cry for help and seeing him flounder- ing helplessly in deep water, Ed Ludwig, of Lagrange. Ind., was forced to stand on the bank of the St. Joseph River and see his father drown. The young man was helpless to get to the rescue of his father, owing to the fact that he himself was unable to swim. Do Not Wait so Long Next Time, Proressor Fourmen: I have been a reader of Tir Top for about ten years, but have never written to tell how much I’ve enjoyed it, so, here’s hoping this gets past the wastebasket. I am very glad to see that Dick is back. of him and Frank, senior, and don’t forget Dale Sparkfair and all the old bunch, because there are no friends like old friends.. Why not have a reunion of the old flock at least once a year? Please tell me how the following measurements are: Height, 5 feet 6% inches; weight, 138 pounds; chest, 34 inches; expanded, 39 inches; waist, 28 inches; biceps, 1134 inches; forearms, 11% inches; thighs, 20.4 inches; calves, 14% inches. Thanking you in advance, I am, yours sincerely, Galena, Kan. I. D. Appy. How do you like the reunion in the story in this issue? Your measurements are very good. Give us more Blast Causes Five Deaths. Five men were killed and nine injured at Bayonne, N. J., when twenty-five tons of earth and rock dropped into a caisson being sunk near the Morris Canal in which the men were working., Frantic digging by the comrades of the trapped workmen resulted in the recovery of all the bodies. Too heavy a charge of dynamite used in blasting is blamed for the accident. More Doubting Thomases. Dear Epiror: Although I am a very old reader of the Merriwells, | have not yet written to your department formerly called the Applause Column, but now entitled the Compass. Not bragging, I consider and feel that 1 have good cause for so doing. 1 am one of your most loyal Tip Toppers, for I have read and still possess such old copies of the Orn Mepat Lrerary as “Frank Merriwell’s Duel,” “In Europe,” “Hunting Tour,” “Champions,” “Sports Afield,” “Brothers,” “False Friend,” “Secret,” “Problem,” “Own Company.” “New Comedian,” “Tempta- tion,” “Opportunity,” “Fun,” and- also many Dick Merri- well, stories, such as “Dick Merriwell’s Promise,” “Racket,” et cetera. Since these books were published all the way from 1896 to 1906, I consider them quite a prize to have. Any of the present readers can obtain these by writing to me concerning the price, et cetera. I have read all of the New Tip Tops, but not all of the old. I am willing to ex- change Nos. 62 to 103, inclusive, of the New Tip Tops with any one who possesses the O_p Tip Tops. Your recent stories do not seem to be as interesting as the old. I do not approve your recent covers. Please have a full-page illustration, and that part which deals with.the picture printed at the bottom, as in former times. I let the boys around take my Trp Tops, and some claim the Compass is a graft, and that all the letters are the product of S. & S. Please print this, and convince them that it is not so. I do not like the ending of so many people that write and say, “hoping this will escape the wastebasket,” because I cannot see S. & S, in such a light as to do this. Hoping you will excuse the length of this letter, I re- main, a devoted Merriwellite, Ernest KRriec. 517 North Sixth Street, Minneapolis, Minn. Well, Ernest, there is your letter; and it is printed word for word. You will note that your “knock” about the recent stories was not wiped out with a blue pencil. How do you like the stories now? The one in this issue, for instance? We will take up your suggestions about the covers with the art department. Tries to Slide Down Peak. When L. J. Kunzer, a railroad clerk of Chicago,. IIl., attempted to coast down Pike’s Peak on a toboggan, he whirled over the edge of a ravine hidden in snow and dropped roo feet to the rocks below. He was taken to a local hospital, fatally injured. Don’t Worty About It. Dear Epitor: I have been a reader of Tip Top for the last three years, but never have taken the liberty to write before. [ wish to say that the Clancy stories were very good. Mr. Standish writes fine stories, but I prefer the good old Merriwells. [ am a very thin boy, and would like to know what ex- ercise would build me up. [ remain yours, a loyal Tip Top reader, KENNETH LEMILLIGER. Ni, The best advice I can give a thin boy is not to worry about it, keep himself in the best possible shape, and drink lots of water between meals. 97 Broadway, Ossining, / J g Gets Year for Each Penny. Fifty years for stealing fifty cents was the sentence that a Hale County, Ala. jury imposed on Frank Wil- liams, a negro, who, in 1894, robbed another negro of a half dollar. After serving more than two years of his fifty-year sc™tence, Williams has been paroled by Gov- ernor O’Neal, “Ye governor extending clemency to the negro. Wants the News Items Out. Dear Epitor:. I have read Tir Top for a long time. I think it is the best weekly I have ever read. The Clancy stories'were good, but the present stories about the Mer- riwells are much better. I would like to read of Spark fair, Everest eS ee th cy rr ee TO wD a> oo se Oo a - Dick. NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY. Hodge, Arlington, and all the rest of the old crowd. What has become of Billy Ballard? I think it would be a good plan to leave the News Items out of Tre Top, and have the stories longer. Yours truly, Barnard, N. Y. So many of our readers are writing us that you will note there are not many news items left. LeEsTER C. CLARK. Hero Saves Six from a Fire. Single-handed, Patrolman Schasberger swung a family of six, one at a time, to safety across a five-foot chasm between buildings, when a fire swept a five-story apartment house on Fifth Avenue, New York. Bowed in an atti- tude of prayer before a window through which they sought escape, Mrs. Hannah Nicokiri, aged forty-five, and daughter, Sarah, nineteen, perished in the flames. Jacob Finkelstein was killed by jumping from a_ third-story window. Glad Dick is Back. Dear Epitor: I have read Tip Top ever since it was started, and know the stories and characters from Frank, senior, Dick, Brad Buckhart, Ted Smart, Bart Hodge, Bruce Browning, Jack Diamond, Jack Ready, Harry Rattle- ton, Inez Burrage, Elsie Bellwood, June Arlington, Doris Templeton, Hal Darrell, up to Frank, junior. And I want to say that I did not like the Clancy stories. They were all right in a way, but they are not the old Merriwell stories. I am glad to see Dick and Frank back again, especially I don’t like the way Dick was left off. Hoping Tip Top the best of luck, I am, an old reader, Mechanicsville, N. Y. Joun GUwLLY. Kills Three Mountain Lions in Long Battle. After a fierce battle with three mountain lions which attacked him, Alvin H. Colter, an Illinois tourist who lives near Chicago, was barely able to drag himself into Georgetown, Col. But he arrived with the pelts of the three animals strapped to his back, as ae that he was the victor in the encounter. _ As Colter was walking in a caiion near here, he saw a large lion directly in his path, He fired and wounded it, At the same time another lion sprang from behind. - The hunter killed the wounded animal with his knife, dis- _ patched the second beast after a battle lasting twenty min- utes, and then shot a third lion which had arrived on the scene and attacked him. Likes Chip Best. Dear Eprtor: Though only twelve years old, I have ‘heen reading Tie Tor for a long time. Have not missed but a few of the Frank, junior, stories, and some of the Owen Clancy series. Would rather you would continue with Frank, junior, though both are fine. I am, yours ~ truly, Sammie CRoweELL. RR. No. 2, Ashland, Iil. . \ \ Official Saves Child’s Pet. é Because the poundmaster took her little dog, seven-year- old yess Bradley, ot APS nee corm appealed to the dog catcher’s action, but is of the opinion that he acted unreasonably. The little girl offered him all the money she had before going to the mayor, “but it wasn’t enough,” she said. Here it Is. Dear Epitor: I have been a reader of Tir Tor for about three years, and I would like to see this in the Applause Column of Tip Top. I liked the Owen Clancy stories all right, but none any better than those about Frank, junior. Please hurry and write about Kess and Billie Ballard. I hope this escapes the wastebasket. With success to Tie Tor and Burt L. Standish, I am,' Box 302, Walterboro, S. C. ANbREW J. CLouGH, Fighting Lion Leaps on Trainer in Cage. When Edwin Lorenzo, an animal trainer, entered a lions’ cage/at Mount Clemens, Mich., and attempted to separate the /beasts which were fighting, “Brutus,” one of the ani- mals, suddenly sprang upon the man, and, with one stroke of its paw tore the man’s body open from his throat to his abdomen. ' Though weak from the loss of blood and from the force of the blow, Lorenzo fought the lion off with a heavy iron fork which he carried, backed out of the cage, shut and locked the door, and then fell unconscious to the ground. He was fatally wounded by the infuriated animal. Lorenza was an employee of a carnival company show- ing here, and was an experienced trainer. Wants Frank to Graduate at Fardale. ‘Dear Epitor: I have been a constant reader of Tre Top for four years. I liked the Clancy series very much, but I’m doubly glad to see Frank back in the limelight. I have read in a recent issue that Frank Merriwell’ was going to leave Fardale. In this I don’t agree with you, for I wish to have Clancy and Merriwell graduate at the — same time. Respectfully yours, MEYER Krapp. Brooklyn, N. Y. g Frank has not left Fardale for good, and if ‘he does | not go back this fall, he will, at least, keep up with his school work. Pigeons Fly Mile a Minute. Wings are still ahead of the aeroplane, according to a statement of homing-pigeon fanciers in Chicago. Eighteen birds, owned by Al Chrishop, were taken to Norfolk, Neb. — and released. They reached the home coop after nine hours and twenty-three minutes. This time shows that — the birds averaged a little less than a mile a minute during their flight, It is said to be a record. Read “Tip Top” No. }, Dear Epiror: I am quite a busy man now—a great deal more so than when I was a boy in my teens, when I started to read No. 1, Trp Top WeEKLy, “An Ideal Pub- lication for the American Youth.” How well I remem, ber, as if yesterday, when that contest was on; and I was 4 contestant for the prize—but failed, of course. What I want to say is:: I’m pleased, so pleased, to ‘pote in current issue of Tip Top that Mr. Standish is going back to portray further adventures of my old friends, Frank, senior, Dick, and Frank, junior. aS _ Surely me eae loves a child of his. brain, , ie acai So a NRE 30 NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY. In retrospection I can recall my disappointment when Frank, the brown-haired young man, married Inza (God bless her character), and not my choice—golden-haired Elsie. But Frank and Inza are happy, and have brought forth a progeny worthy the name “Chip.” Elsie and Bart presumably are happy. Have they had a little baby girl long before this? A sweet, golden-haired shy little miss that Frank, junior, eventually will make his helpmate for life—when the proper time comes. As I previously stated, I was disappointed in Frank’s marriage. Please don’t allow me to feel so with Dick’s. June is my choice, first, last, and for all time. How is dear old Bruce. He never got over the death of his lady love, did he? I wish I had kept all the Tre Tors from No. 1 to date —1,047, of them—let’s see, how much that has cost me— yes: $52.35. Do I regret it, begrudge it? No! a thou- sand times no! no! no! no! I might go so far as to say that the reading of the Tip Top has helped form my char- acter. I well remember how I used to take it to school, and place it between the leaves of my geography, and slyly read it. It makes me sigh for the old days gone by. For the first time in years, I have to-night, after read- ing this Trp Top No. 97, the same old feeling I had when a boy—I can hardly wait for “next week’s” to come to hand. I am so anxious to renew my acquaintance, with my old friends. I wonder how many old veteran readers there still are— those who commenced with No. 1 to date? When you changed to the Clancy series, I said to my- self: “Well, Mr. Standish knows best; he can feel his reader's pulse; possible the newer readers want the change.” So I said nothing. Now that you are coming back home—I thank you—I thank you a million. times. Yours truly, Pathos; Point Pleasant, N. J. P. S—I would like to add, that my wife-has been just as ardent a reader as myself for many years. I have a young boy growing up, and as soon as he can under- stand and appreciate such worthy stories, I will be glad to introduce the Tre Top to him. My wife asked me to ask for a set of post cards. We have mavled you the cards, and we thank you, good old loyal Tip Topper, for your letter. Offers Five Cents for Rats. The city council at Memphis, Tenn., has passed an _ ordinance authorizing the payment of five cents for every dead rat delivered to the mayor. It is a part of a scheme to rid the city of the pests, which carry bubonic plague germs. Greatest Weekly on Earth. Dear Epitor: Having just read in your No. 97 a leétter from Mr. Swanke, containing a frank expression of his views, I am impelled to express my own. Like Mr. Swanke, I have read “absolutely every one” of the Tre Tops, and consider myself, in a way, priv- ileged, being one of the oldest readers. I say, by all means, more Merriwells and less Clancys. Dick is my favorite, and much as I like Frank, junior, I cannot help longing for the good old days when Dick, June, Doris, Chester, et al. were boys and girls together: It seems to me that their stories were broken off too suddenly’and I am heartily glad that we are soon to hear more of them; and am wondering if the Arlingtons and Doris Templeton are to appear, as well as the Merriwells. Perhaps you can set my mind at rest on this point. One more suggestion, and I am done. Please have Chester Arlington really reform, if he has not already done so. He is too interesting a ‘character to be the good-for-nothing that he was while at Fardale. With my very best wishes for the greatest five-cent weekly on earth, I remain, sincerely yours, Hoboken, N. J. Joun Lester MINor. You will hear from all your old favorites in time. Aerial Eddy Kills Airman. Arthur Rybitsky, of San Francisco, an aviator, was killed at Angeles Camp, Cal., when his aéroplane was caught in an aérial eddy above a cafion. The machine was swept into a pine forest on the moun- tainside, and spectators could hear Rybitsky crying out. He fell to the ground through the trees, frightfully mangled. Thank You, Dear Mr. StanpisH: I wish to congratulate you on your good work, also to “congrat” Messrs. S. & S. on their good judgment for selecting a writer of your abil- ity, as you have shown that you have “the goods.” Yours for success, J. Rosert HENDLEY. P, S.—I submit the following. “The youth that we all love the best, Is Merriwell—Frank Merriwell. Give us him or’ give us death. Who? Merriwell—Frank Merriwell.” Aviator Killed in Looping Loop. G. Legagenueux was killed by a fall at Saumur, France, when his aéroplane collapsed while looping the loop of the Loire River. Legagenueux was thirty-two years old and a pioneer French aviator. Measurements. Proressor FourMEN: Will you please give me your opinion of my measurements? I am thirteen years old; 5 feet 2 inches tall; weight, 108 pounds; neck, 12 inches; chest, normal, 29% inches; chest, expanded, 33 inches; waist, 26 inches; thighs, 17 inches; calves 1214 inches; ‘forearms, 9 inches; upper arms, down, 8% inches; upper arms, up, 10 inches; shoulders, 15 inches. I like all sports, basket ball chiefly. 916 South Main, Mt. Pleasant, Mich. You have a dandy build, Fred. Frep Beppow. Cheap Seats Behind Stand. Jim Hart, the old-time baseball player, is full of good stories of the old days, and he frequently tells them to his friends or those who are fortunate enough to meet him. “One of the funniest things I ever saw in baseball,” he remarked, “was on our trip around the world twenty years ago. On our way West we scheduled a lot of ex- hibition games in towns that never had seen the game. One camp, up in Colorado, was anxious for us to stop, and the promoter wrote, asking what prices to charge. I ef ae Ee TP ey , ae a ew ee a Ne es inches; waist, 31 inches ; NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY. sent word: ‘One dollar for the grand stand and fifty cents for the other seats.’ When we got there we found he had built a grand stand and had built the other seats be- hind it.” Short But Sweet. Dear Epttor: I am a reader of Tip Top Weexty, and enjoy it very much. Yours truly, CHARLES NOICE. ' Bellaire, Ohio. Radium Restores Her Sight. Radium, applied to the eyes of Mrs. Emma Epler, of Mohnton, Pa., for eight hours every day during a period of five weeks, restored her sight after she had been blind for five years. The treatment was applied by a specialist of Reading, Pa. The woman’s blindness was caused by straining. the nerves of both eyes while she was working - in a shirt factory. After taking treatment three weeks * she was able to distinguish houses at a distance. From that time her sight was restored rapidly. Fe ‘Will Always Read “Tip Top.” ~ Dear Proressor Fourmen : weak and strong points? My measurements are: Height, 6 feet ;. weight, 176 pounds; chest, 37 Beene expanded, 41 neck, 1414 inches; forearms, Wy inches ; calves, 15% inches: thighs, 22% inches; hips, 38 inches. Please put this in the next Tie Tor WeeEkLy. . 1 have read Tip Top six years, and will read it as long ‘as it is printed. Yours truly, Adena, Ohio.. _ James. Ricwarp DArtrne. Put a couple of inches on'-your chest. urements should be an inch larger. Your other meas- Runaway Auto Burns in its Wild Flight. - Bad luck overtook Mr. and. Mrs. Carl.C.’ McKean, of Sidney, Iowa, when they. picked up Harlan E: Ralston after his motor cycle had broken down, and stowed his machine in their auto with them. Just. as they started down a steep hill they noticed their auto, on fire. -The _ blaze had disabled the brake, and they were unable to Stop the car, which sped down the. incline and fanned the After the car started up the next hill, it ddowed dow, and the passengers were able to jump to safety. Then ‘they. sat by the roadside and watched the big car and the motor cycle burn for two hours. Ralston’s’ coat and ; pocketbook also ‘were consumed. Mrs. McKean, who is a bride of three weeks, blames her “hard luck to the fact that ‘she dropped and broke a mirror shortly after the wedding. As Good .as Ever, Dear Ep1ror : Just a few words from a veteran reader. I am glad to see the Applause back. I like the New Tip Topas well as the old, only I would like to hear fo mére of Dick’s old Fardale friends. Vith best wishes for Trp Tor, I remain, J. Haty. ~~ © Pitches One Ball; ‘Wins Game. oe unusual happening took place. in a. ball. game “at . orth, Texas, . when ‘Pitcher, Ed. Appleton, of the al team, went. into a. game. in, the cere, ae Ne : Will you please tell me my the score tied, pitched but one ball, which was hit for - a single, resulting in a run; the game. Three men were on bases when Appleton went in, and Newman, for Houston, was at bat. Newman singled and Davis scored from third, but McDonald, who was at sec- ond, was thrown out at the plate. The run put Houston ahead, but the locals came back in their half and scored two runs, winning. yet he got credit for ee < Read All but Fourteen. Dear Epitor: This is my first appearance in the Ap- plause Column, or Compass, although I have read all but fourteen of the Merriwells in the Mepat and New Mepar Lrprary. I certainly did like the stories about Frank, with old Bart and Bruce, Harry Rattleton, Berlin Carson, Buck Badger, Jack Ready, and Jack Diamond. I also liked the Happy Camp stories and the Blue Hills. I like the stories of Dick, with Brad, Bigelow, Tucker, Jones, Joe Cohen, and some of the old Fardale boys, such as Tubbs, Single- ton, Gardner, Scudder, and others. Of the girls I like June, Inza, Elsie, and Doris Templeton. .How about Dar- rell- and ‘Claxton and his sister.. Fearing 1 am prolonging this missive, and losing my chance of seeing it in print, I remain, an old Merry supporter, MANveL Camps. Brooklyn, me. Long-lost Brother is His Farm Hand. These are happy days for Patrick McDoval, seventy — years old, an’ old resident of Lushton, Neb., and his brother, a few years younger, who parted in Boston, Mass., fifty years ago, and met each other by accident here. The reunion occurred when the two old men were rid- | ing in a buggy, and a song was responsible for the fact that they recognized each other. On the day. after their arrival in this country from Ireland, fifty years ago, the youths were adrift in Bos- ton. The city was new and strange to them. They wan- dered here and there, looking for work, but when night — came, neither had found a place to earn enough to eat. oe All the next day they asked for work. Hotels; restau-_ rants, cheap water-front lodging houses were solicited, but the two Irish lads were still without money and hungry. — So, on the night of the! third day, Patrick McDoval - said to Robert: f “Bob, it’s "up to us. .We’ve got to. get out and hustle. This is a great cotintry, and there’re great chances for _ young men. We must part. I'll write to you often, and_ you must write to me.” And in the darkness of the harbor the two Irish brbthieeser shook hands and said “good-by.” Then they walked slowly 3 away—in opposite directions. . From that night Patrick and Robert MeDoval never _ heard from each other. Patrick came West, He settled in. Nebraska. Thirty years ago he came to Lushton. Since that time he has lived on his farm. He has a ranch of six hundred acres. He has a family, and is known from one side of this county to the other. Robert; the younger, leaving Boston on the night of their : separation, wandered up into New York. There he. en- (tered a plumber’s shop as an apprentice. He picked up. the. work rapidly. In, two. Soak he was: an expert and established an OBiice. aa NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY. Then the wanderlust caught him. Into the path so many of his trade had stumbled, Robert stumbled, also. Recently a rough-looking man, with shambling step, walked up to the front door of the McDoval farm home. The stranger was hired as a “hand” for the farm. He was weary and slept early. Morning came, and he went into the field with the man of the house. Every one called the employer “Mac,” so the stranger did likewise. No one asked the “hand” his name. (That was unneces- \Sary. All day they worked together, Night came, and they retired. Then, one morning when the household arose, it was found the hands would have to have more meat and more sugar and more flour. So Mac and the new hired hand started to town. Then Robert started to hum a song. It was something about “William Riley and his colleen bawn.” The farmer looked about, a strange light in his eyes. He looked ahead a few minutes. Then he, too, joined in on the song. “That’s the song I sang more than fifty years ago, when I came across with my brother, Robert,” said Patrick. “We parted in Boston just half a century ago this month. And ‘T’ve never seen him since.” “T’m brother Robert, Pat,” shouted the other, “and I’ve been looking all these years for you. I’ve been a bum for years, and have wandered over the United States all that time, thinking maybe some time I would find you.” Welcomes Chip’s Return. Dear Epitor: I have been a constant reader of Tip Top for some time past. I am very fond of the stories about Frank, junior, and heartily welcome their return. Very truly yours, J. Francis KEEcan. Ossining, N. Y. Pipe Explodes as He Dozes. After the rest of his family had gone to bed, toh Adams, of Belleville, Mo., remained on his porch for a quiet smoke and fell asleep. Suddenly he was awakened by an explosion immediately in front of his face, and when he took an inventory, he discovered that nothing but his pipestem was left in his mouth. Bits of his shattered pipe were scattered about the porch. The. explosion was caused by a cartridge that Adams had carried in his tobacco pouch.. It: had .slipped into his pipe when he filled it in the dark. Two Letters. ’ Dear Proressor: Hurrah! We have Frank back with us again. Although I did like to read of Owen Clancy’s adventures, still, I like a change in the Tir Top. I favor the idea that “Chas” put in June 20th number of Tip Top: Why not have the Compass department as a “Get-together” club? I am very fond of my “pet” idea, of having the readers who can dtaw contribute drawings and cartoons, and have them printed under the heading of the Compass. I notice so many of the readers asking for cards. I | have never seen any of them, but I would like a set of them, if you have any more left. I would also like a cata- logue of the Mepav Lrerary. What books or book would _ you suggest_me to get for building up a strong, healthy, oy muscular body? I am somewhat of a boxer, having taken part in a few contests. What do you think of the boxing game? What should my correct measurements be?. I am 5 feet 2 inches in height. I will be seventeen years of age this coming December Ist. Please suggest some way of developing the chest. I will be pleased to hear from both American and for- eign readers, boys and girls. I will arfswer promptly. Hoping to see my letter in print soon, please pardon me for such a long letter. I am, a loyal Tip Topper, B. B.D, P. S.—Address letters to B. B. D., care of Tip Top. I will pay postage on all letters from New York to here. W. B. Derrick. 207 West Twelfth Street, Sioux Falls, S. D. We wrote Billie that we could. not take on the job of forwarding letters that came to him here, and asked if we could print his.name and address. Here is his reply: Dear Epitor: Yours of 8th at hand. print my full name at the bottom. About three months ago there was a Tip Topper that wished in his letter to hear from other boys, and I wrote to him, but he never answered. His address was Dublin, Ireland. But I will answer all. Please print the name and address below. Many thanks for your kindness, « I beg to remaih—Tip Top Bill, te Yes, you can Brum B. Derrick. What is the matter with you, Dublin. Tip Topper? Answering your first letter, Bill, would say that I think my book and Frank Merriwell’s will help you. Boxing is a fine sport. sport, too, and we are sure it would help you. Breathing exercises will develop your chest. Just stick to them. Your measurements, at your age, and for your height, 5 _ feet 2 inches, should be: Weight, 102 pounds; neck, 12. inches; chest, contracted, 29.5 inches; expanded, 32.1 inches ; waist, 24.6 inches; forearms,’ 9 inches; upper arms, down, 8.1 inches; upper arms, up, 9.7 inches; thighs, Xs 16.8 inches; calves, 11.4 inches. Three Ride 500 Miles on Only acre Bicycles. | Joseph, Thomas, and Dan Hansmucker, aged eighteen, — sixteen, and fourteen years respectively, arrived at Minot, — N. D., on a bicycle trip from Minneapolis, Minn., to Sas- katchewan, Canada, where they expect to find a home with — a rich uncle. ‘The younger lad rode on the handle’ har i of one or the other of the wheels the entire distance ae 500 miles from Minneapolis, and expects to finish the long» 7 journey in the same manner. 6 d TOBACCO HABIT eons Prolong your life, Relieve stomach or kidney trouble, hoarseness, headachés,irritability, nervous worry, heart weakness, Avoid blindness! Gain lasting vigor, calm nerves, better mem- ory, clear eyes, superior mental strength. Banish spells of mel- ancholy; avoid collapse, If you chew, dip snuff or smoke pipe, cigarcttes, cigars, get my’ "interesting free book. hat you have been looking for, Proved worth weight in gold to others; ae not you? Overcome nicotine habit, start anew and be genuinely happy. Book mailed free. EDW. J. WOODS, 534 Sixth Ave., 230 D, New York, N, i OLD COINS WANTED $4.25 each paid for U. 8. le Cents dated 1856. pay a CASH premium on hundreds of old coins.. 0 cents at once for New Illustrated Coin Value : LARE CLARK & C ., Coin in Dealers, Bex 67, he a As you know, we have a good book on that SOME OF THE BACK NUMBERS OF THAT CAN BE SUPPLIED 730—Frank Merriwell’s Six-in-hand. 731—Frank Merriwell’s Duplicate. 732—Frank Merriwell on Rattlesnake Ranch 733—Frank Merriwell’s Sure Hand. 734—Frank Merriwell’s Treasure Map. 735—Frank Merriwell, Prince of the Rope. 736—Dick Merriwell, Captain of the Var- f t f sity. / 737—Dick Merriwell’s Control. 738—Dick Merriwell’s Back Stop. 739—Dick Merriwell’s Masked Enemy. 740—Dick Merriwell’s Motor Car. 741—Dick Merriwell’s Hot Pursuit. 742—Dick Merriwell at Forest Lake. 743—Dick Merriwell in Court. 744—Dick Merriwell’s Silence. 745—Dick Merriwell’s Dog. 746—Dick Merriwell’s Subterfuge. 747—Dick Merriwell’s Enigma. 748—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 Rocking R. 758—Dick Merriwell’s Penetration. 754—Dick Merriwell’s Intuition. 755—Dick Merriwell’s Vantage. 756—Dick Merriwell’s Advice. 757—Dick Merriwell’s Rescue. 758—Dick Merriwell, American. 759—Dick Merriwell’s Understanding. 760—Dick Merriwell, Tutor. 761—Dick Merriwell’s Quandary. 762—Dick Merriwell on the Boards, 763—Dick Merriwell, Peacemaker. 764—Frank Merriwell’s Sway. 765—Frank Merriwell’s Comprehension. 766—F rank Merriwell’s Young Acrobat. 767—F rank Merriwell’s Tact. 768—Frank Merriwell’s Unknown. 769—Frank Merriwell’s Acuteness 770—F rank Merriwell’s Young C* 771—F rank Merriwell’s Coward. 772—F rank Merriwell’s Perplexi 7738—Frank Merriwell’s Interven 774—F rank Merriwell’s Daring Dec 775—F rank Merriwell’s Succor. _ 6—F rank Merriwell’s Wit. 7—F rank Merriwell’s Loyalty. 8—Frank Merriwell’s Bold Play. 9—F rank Merriwell’s Insight. 80—F rank Merriwell’s Guile. 781—F rank Merriwell’s Campaign. 782—Frank Merriwell in the Forest. 783—Frank Merriwell’s Tenacity. 784—Dick Merriwell's Self-sacrifice. 785—Dick Merriwell’s Close Shave. 786—Dick Merriwell’s Perception. 787—Dick Merriwell’s Mysterious Disap- pearance. 788—Dick Merriwell’s Detective Work. 789—Dick Merriwell’s Proof. 790—Dick Merriwell’s Brain Work. 791—Dick Merriwell’s Queer Case. 792—Dick Merriwell, Navigator. 793—Dick Merriwell’s Good Fellowship. 794—Dick Merriwell’s Fun. 795—Dick Merriwell’s Commencement. 796—Dick Merriwell at Montauk Point. 797—Dick Merriwell, Mediator. 798—Dick Merriwell’s Decision. 799—Dick Merriwell on the Great Lakes. 800—Dick Merriwell Caught Napping. 801—Dick Merriwell in the Copper Coun- try. 802—Dick Merriwell Strapped. 803—Dick Merriwell’s Coolness. 804—Dick Merriwell’s Reliance. 805—Dick Merriwell’s College Mate. 806—Dick Merriwell’s Young Pitcher. 807—Dick Merriwell’s Prodding. 808—F rank Merriwell’s Boy. 809—F rank Merriwell's Interference, 810—Frank Merriwell’s Young Warriors. 811—F rank Merriwell’s Appraisal. 4 7 7 {a National PRICE, FIVE CENTS PER COPY. “your news dealer, they can be obtained direct from this office. 812—F rank Merriwell’s Forgiveness. 813—Frank Merriwell's Lads. 814—F rank Merriwell’s Young Aviators. 815—Frank Merriwell's Hot-head. 816—Dick Merriwell, Diplomat. 817—Dick Merriwell in Panama. 818—Dick Merriwell's Perseverance. 819—Dick Merriwell Triumphant. 820—Dick Merriwell's Betrayal. 821—Dick Merriwell, Revolutionist. 822—Dick Merriwell’s Fortitude. 823—Di#iiMerriwell's Undgings, 824—D® Merriwell, Unive 825—T iis Merriwell’s Sna ee j 826—Die) Merriwell’s Star Pupil. 827—DichMerriwell’s Astuteness. 828—Dick Merriwell’s Responsibility. 829—Dick Merriwell’s Plan. 830—Dick Merriwell’s Warning. 831—Dick Merriwell’s Counsel. 8382—Dick Merriwell’s Champions. 8383—Dick Merriwell’s Marksmen. 834—Dick Merriwell’s Enthusiasm. * 835—Dick Merriwell’s Solution. 836—Dick Merriwell’s Foreign Foe. 8838—Dick Merriwell’s Battle for the Blue. 889—Dick Merriwell’s Evidence. 840—Dick Merriwell's Device. 841—Dick Merriwell’s Princeton nents. 842—Dick Merriwell’s Sixth Sense. 848—Dick Merriwell's Strange Clew. 844—Dick Merriwell Comes Back. 845—Dick Merriwell's Heroic Crew. 846—Dick Merriwell Looks Ahead. Oppo- NEW SERIES. New Tip Top Weekly 1-—Frank Merriwell, Jr. 29—Frank Merriwell, Jr., in the Box. 8—Frank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Struggle. 4—F rank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Skill. 5—Frank Merriwell, Jr., in Idaho. 6—F rank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Close Shave. a Merriwell, J#., on Waiting Or- aers. 8—F rank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Danger. 9—Frank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Relay Mara- thon. 10—Frank Merriwell, Jr., at the Bar Z Ranch. 1—F rank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Golde 2__ Frank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Com 3—Frank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Guid: 4—F rank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Se 5—Frank Merriwell, Jr., Mis ged. —Frank Merriwell, Jr.'s, Star Play. 17—F rank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Blind Chase. 18—Frank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Discretion. 19—F rank Merriwell. Jr.’s, Substitute, 20—Frank Merriwell, Jr., Justified. 21—F rank Merriwell, Jr., Incog. 22—F rank Merriwell. Jr., Meets the Issue. 23—Frank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Xmas Eve. 24—Frank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Fearless Risk. 25—Frank Merriwell, Jr., on Skis. 26—Frank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Ice-boat Chase. 27—Frank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Ambushed Toes. 28—Frank Merriwell, Jr. 29—Frank Merriwell, Jr. 380—Frank Merriwell. Jr. 31—F rank Merriwell. Jr.’s, Adversary. 32—F rank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Timely Aid. 83—Frank Merriwell, Jr., in the Desert. 384—Frank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Grueling Test. 85—Frank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Special Mission 86—Frank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Red Bowman. 3$7—Frank Merriwell, Jr.'s, Task. _ 88—Frank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Cross-Country Race. 89—Frank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Four Miles. 40—F rank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Umpire 41—Frank Merriwell, Jr., Sidetracked. 1 1 i 1 J J and the Totem. s, Hockey Game. s, Clew. 42—F rank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Teamwork. 43—Frank Merriwell, Jr.'s, Step-Over. 44—Frank Merriwell, Jr., in Monterey. 45—Frank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Athletes. 46—F rank Merriwell, Jr.'s, Outfielder. 47—Frank Merriwell, Jr.'s, ‘‘Hundred.”’ 48—Frank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Hobo Twirler. 49—Frank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Canceled Game. 50—Frank Merriwell, Jr.'s, Weird Adven- ture. 51—Frank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Double Header. 52—F rank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Peck of Trou- ble. 53—Frank Merriwell, Jr., and the Spook Doctor. 54—Frank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Sportsmanship. 55—Frank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Ten-Innings, 56—Frank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Ordeal. 57—Frank Merriwell, Jr., on the Wing. 58—Frank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Cross-Fire.”’ 59—Frank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Lost Team- mate. 60—Frank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Daring Flight. 61—Frank Merriwell, Jr., at Fardale. 62—F rank Merriwell, Jr., Plebe. 63—Frank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Quarter-Back. 64—Frank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Touchdown. 65—F rank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Night Off. 66—Frank Merriwell, Jr., and the Little Black Box. 67—F rank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Classmates. 6£—Frank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Repentant En- emy. 69—Frank Merriwell, Jr., and the “Spell.” 70O—F rank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Gridiron’ Honors. 71—Frank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Winning Run. 72—F rank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Jujutsu. (3—F rank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Christmas cation. 74—Frank Merriwell, Jr., and the Nine Wolves. 75—Frank Merriwell, Jr., on the Border. 76—Frank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Desert Race. 77—Owen Clancy’s Run of Luck. 78—Owen Clancy's Square Deal. 79—Owen Clancy’s Hardest Fight. 80—Owen Clancy’s Ride for Fortune. 81—Owen Clancy's Makeshift. 82—Owen Clancy and the Black Pearls, 883—Owen Clancy and the Sky Pilot. 84—Owen Clancy and the Air Pirates. 85—Owen Clancy's Peril. 86—Owen Clancy's Partner. 87—Owen Clancy's Happy Trail. 88—Owen Clancy’s Double Trouble, 89—Owen Clancy's Back Fire. 90—Owen Clancy and the “Clique of Gold.” 91—Owen Clancy's “Diamond” Deal, 92—Owen Clancy and the Claim Jumpers. 93—Owen Clancy Among the Smugglers. 94—Owen Clancy's Clean-Up. 95—Frank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Pick-Up Nine. 96—Frank Merriwell, Jr..s Diamond Foes. 97—Frank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Great Game. 98—The Merriwell Company. 99—FrankyMerriwell’s First Commission. 100—Ke . Merriwell, Jr.'s, Cryptogram. 10164 “Merriwell and June Arlington. 102—Dick Merriwell’s Turquoise Tussle. 103—Dick Merriwell Tricked. rahe Merriwell, Jr., in the Gulf of ‘ire, Dated August 1st, 1914. 105—Frank Merriwell, Jr... in the Stampede. : Dated August 8th, 1914. 106—Merriwell vs. Merriwell. Published about August 15th, 1914. 107—Dick Merriwell and the Burglar. Published about August 22d, 1914. 108—Dick Merriwell Mystified. Published about August 29th, 1914. 109—Dick Merriwell’s. Hazard. Published about September 5th, 1914 110—Frank Merriwell, Jr., at the Cow- boy Carnival. Va- Cattle If you want any back numbers of our weeklies and cannot procure them from Postage stamps taken the same as money, Street & Smith, Publishers, 79-89 Seventh Ave., New Yoe City