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OCTOBER 10

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FRANK MERRIWELL JUNIOR’S Fo

* The Santa Fe C

 
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dssued Weekly. Entered as Second-class Matter at the New York Post Office, according to an_act of Congress, March 3, 1819. Published by
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No. 115.

 
  

  

1” a #
oY ‘4

CHAPTER f.

BAITED.

  

Fite

   
  

_ “Th’ top av the marning to yez, young fellys,” said Bar-
ney Mulloy, as he came along the street before the old
adobe hotel, where Chip Merriwell and Doc Fisher sat
‘with Robert Realf in the warm October sunshine.
‘There was a bandage round Mulloy’s head under his
- hat, his face showed pallor, and his step lacked firm-
_ ness. ‘ ;
_.: Chip and Fisher moved along on the bench théy were
occupying, to give Mulloy room. Fisher at the samé time
looked inquiringly into Mulloy’s face. .
. “T think you’re on the road to a quick recovery, all
right,” he remarked cheerfully. “How’s that head feel-
ing?”
+ “It’s faleing foine. Thot I’m on anny road is due to you,
‘they're tellin’ me. Ye’ve me thanks, till ye’re betther paid.
- Ye’ve all th’ makin’s av an iligant docther.”
Chip greeted the Irishman warmly, and urged him to
sit down.
. “You're just out of the hospital, and you don’t want
_ tto walk too much, you know,” Fisher warned.
_ “Thank ye, I’ll not sit down; I’m walkin’ to git up a
bit av stringth, f’r I mane to be an th’ road to-morry. I
found a place where there’s a good outcroppin’ av silver,

   
  
   
 
   
 
   
  
  
  
 

 

  
  
  
  
 
  
  
  

-and I want to luck at it ag’in’ |
“Pt have you arrested if you try to leave before you're
able to,” Fisher warned, laughing.

ag “Good f’r ye! Ye’ve the spoonk to do it, I don’t doubt.

_ But ye won't.” \

The scornful and superior air which Realf had assumed
lat the Irishman’s coming would have been amusing, if it
had. not been so annoying. Having taken a dislike to
- Mulloy, he made no attempt to conceal it. In a talk
with the Irishman out in the hills beyond Santa Fe he

    
  
  

   
         
   
  
  

   

   
  
 

NEW YORK, October 10, .1914.

properly credited, and should let us know at once.

Price Five Cents.

_ Frank Merriwell, Junior’s, New Foe;
Or, THE SANTA FE CROSS-COUNTRY.

By BURT L.

STANDISH.

had been nettled by some of Mulloy’s comments, and what
he. considered boasting. He was sure, anyway, that Mul-
loy was an ill-bred creature, because he had a rough ap-

- pearance and wore rough clothing. ;

“Your father must be a man of fine tastes,” he remarked
caustically, when Mulloy had gone on, “to choose for a
friend at Fardale a fellow like that. And I’ve heard
Mulloy talking with your Uncle Dick about some other
fellows. who were chums of your father there. One was 2
fool Dutchnian named Hans Dunnerwust, who must have
been the boss idiot of the whole push. It’s my opinion,
you know, that only a lowbrow consorts with low-
brows.” :

Chip’s face took on a beeflike red.

“You don’t know my father,” he said, a sting of resent-
‘ment in his voice; “and you don’t know what you're talk-
ing about.”

It hurt young Merriwell to say even this much, for
Realf had a sister, who, in Chip’s opinion, was the finest
and handsomest girl he had ever seen.

“Realf’s nose has been stuck up in the air so much,”
Fisher commented, “that it will soon be so deformed 2
surgical operation will be.needed to straighten it. That
Irishman you are sneering at is as fine a man as ever
walked the streets of Santa Fe.”

“You ought to have sense enough to see it, Realf, with- _
out having it pointed out to. you,” Chip added. .

“Oh, well, I don’t expect you to show any taste or judg- |
ment,” Realf declared contemptuously.

“I’m afraid I didn’t, when I picked you for a friend,”
Chip could not help saying. “But we don’t want to quar-
rel, you know.” “Sea

“You could have saved yourself the trouble of picking
me for your friend, if that’s what you did; I’m sure I
didn’t invite it. You took it on yourself to do so, just
because your uncle is working for my father.”

 
 

   
aie pe “NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY.

“I don’t want to quarrel with you,” said Chip; “but you
are wrong there, too; Uncle Dick is working for the
Merriwell Company. Your father has employed the
Merriwell Company to examine that mine he has bought,
and Unele Dick is making the examination for the com-
pany.”

“Oh, what a difference to see, ’twixt tweedle-dum and
tweedle-dee! The point is, he is working, and no gentle-
man ever works. Why, when I was in England last)sum-
mer I was able to associate with people who were real
gentlemen, and they would no more think of working than
they would of disgracing themselves in any other man-
ner.”

“That can be said, too, of every tramp you meet on
the highway,” Chip retorted. “The only men who are
worth anything, or even have a right to live, are the
‘men who work in some way, either with their hands
or their brains, All the others are no better than tramps,
whatever fine name you may give them.”

“That’s funny,” said Realf, “and it discloses your plane
of thought. In England you would be decidedly low
class, don’t you know,”

“You're a first-rate idiot,” snapped Fisher; “Chip doesn’t
want to say it, but he sees it, just as I do. If you don’t
want Chip for a friend, trot along, Your absence won't
grieve him. If you stay round here much longer, I
shall have to fumigate myself as soon as you're We

“Was I talking to you?”

“T don’t know. But I’m talking to you!”

Realf was about to get on his feet and go on his‘ way,

when hé saw some young fellows advancing, and dropped

back.

“Here they come,” he muttered ;
nedy had weakened, even after taking my money, but he
hasn't.”

Bat Kennedy and the two fellows who were with him

came up swaggering, and Kennedy tipped: Realf a covert

wink.
 Kennédy had been one of the hounds in thé recent hare-
-and-hounds game, in which Chip Merriwell had been the
“hare; a game that was not completed because of the
accident which befell Chip out in the hills, near the Blue
Bonnet Mine.
Throughout the run, Redaady had been a gtumbler,
claiming that Chip was not making a trail that could
be followed, and that he was not playing the game on the

square.

““We're not stisfed with the way you played in tia
hare and hounds,” he said, stopping before Chip; ‘be-

sides, the race wasn’t run out, yet it's being boasted round |

what a wondérful runner you are.”

“You haven't heard me boasting about it”? said Chip;
“and surely it wasn’t my fault that the race wasn’t fin-
shed. You can’t charge me with that.”

“Who's to be charged with it, then?” Kennedy Bt peniss.

“Nobody !”

“If the hare doesn’t run’ out the race, and so stops it, I
should like to know why he isn’t to blame.”
“Don’t be a fool, Kennedy!” said Chip.
“Well, Kennedy is right about that,” Realf put in. “The
low who falls out and brings the race to an end is the
‘one who is to blame, no matter what was the cause of at
 “That’s right,” said Kennedy.
str; ight goods that all pare eae Cee say you are, Mer-

“T sure thought Ken-—

“And if you're the

where rn re going,"

“Another hare and hounds? I’m not in very good run-
ning order.” . rp eee
“Just an excuse,” said Kennedy. “We knew you'd say
that. What's the matter with you?” ' ;
“You know that I got a bad fall, and then laid a long
time in a clammy drift of the Blue Bonnet Mine; still——”
Chip’s fighting blood was rising. Indignation and angef ©
had stirred him when Realf was making his strictures,
and this did not decrease the feeling. His strongest desire
was to punch. Realf. He. had been mild with him for
several reasons, not the least of them being the fact that
Realf was an undersized, putty-faced fellow, whom it
would be a dishonor to fight or knock down. Often fellows”
of Realf’s type take advantage of such a knowledge, feeling —
that they can say anything, and not be punished for it. / ~

“See here, Kennedy,” said Fisher, bristling indignantly,
“T don’t intend that Chip shall be drawn into anything like
this; he’s in no condition for it.”

The words were tunfoftunate. Fisher was older shite!
Chip, and sometimes presumed on the fact, to Chip’s aie
noyance, (aay

“If you don’t care for another hare and hounds, what
do you say to a cross-country?” Kennedy asked. “That
would suit us best, for you couldn’ t do any cheating” then,
you see.”

Chip got up slowly, his face burning.

“¥ou' 11 swallow that charge of cheating, or Tl make
you,” he declared, his voice suddenly trembling. “I guess
I’m easy, but I won’t stand for that; you know.”

Kennedy, though he was farger and older than Chip
Merriwell, fell back before the burning fire that had . come
into Chip’s eyes,

“What will you do?” he said, trying for bravade, “sik

me?” ;

“TH lencitle you doit right here in the treat, co pe
the consequences. . You'll eat those words, Kennedy.”

“Of course, I didn’t mean it as an insult,” said Kennedy. —
“I was just repeating what J have heard talked. A lot ~
of the fellows hint what I said, and. some a te ay it
openly.”

“But you'do not. Is that whit 5 you meat? ?”.

“Well, I didn’t myself see you, and——”-

He dropped back again, as Chip advanced on’ ‘ht.

‘and, ‘of course, I can’t‘ say that you did; 1 da
say it. Does that satisfy you? I ‘didn’t:come here’ fo
fight; I came to see if you would’ go into’a eross-countr
with us. Somé of the fellows said you'wouldn’t. I thougl
you would, and so they told me to interview you.’

Chip’s lips were white, as he again sat down on th
bench.

“If you'll send the fellow to me. | who was. master of the
hounds, I'll talk with him. I refuse to talk with you. Tha
settles it, and you can move on.”

“Vou’ lI accept his offer, and go into a cross-country?"
“Vil talk with him. I’m through with you.”

“Perhaps you aren't,” Kennedy said, with an ugly. ie
“Oh, yes, Bam. oT si have to trouble myself wi
fellows of your kidney. I’ve heard of some of the things

you’ve been saying since the hare-and-hounds race. Br
I’ve paid no attention to you. And I don’t intend to now.
Only, T’1l warn you that you'd hetter go a bit. slow.”

« Realf got off the bench. ty *

“Tl go with tes Kennédy, to sée Bolton, if
"she aes “Don't pay any a

 
 

NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY. a ;

: to Mettiwell’s lack of manners; he’s got a lowbrow grouch
. to-day.”

_ Fisher glared after them through his big glasses, as the
young fellows walked away.

_ “You'll have to lam some sense into that crowd, Chip,
before you are through with it,” he declared, with an un-
usual show of heat.

CHAPTER II.
PRELIMINARIES.

_ Chip Merriwell could not have been driven into a cross-

country run by the sneers and lies of Bat Kennedy. Yet
he entered it, chiefly because the run appealed to him,

and because he had fallen down as hare in the hare-and-
hounds race of a few days before.

He knew that many of the young fellows who had
been in that race were not satisfied, though they did not
blame him. Park Bolton, who had been master of the

hounds, and who was a square and fair fellow, was one of

them.

_ “Tt was too bad,” gail Bolton, when he came to Chip to
talk it over. “I suppose, though, that, in a way, we cari
claim that the hounds were the winners. Yow fell on that
slope, and gave your head a rap that finished you for the
time. If Mulloy had not found you there and carried

_ you into the mine, we would have come on you. That

would have been overtaking you, or catching you, wouldn’t

it? If so, that would have given us the race. I don’t
think there is any rule providing that if the hare is hurt
and can’t go on, the race is off. As I understand it, the
les try to follow what would happen in a real race be-
tween a hare and hounds. If the hare in a real race
ot ‘crippled or knocked out, the hounds would just gobble
it, and nobody could say they hadn’t won.”

This was a more effective. argument than the captious
and unmannerly one indulged in by Bat Kennedy. It was
an argument with sense in ® and it appealed to Chip’s
idea of fairness.

“TI see how you feel, when you put it that way,” Chip
said to Bolton; “and I’ll run that race over, if you like.”

Bolton had suggested, then, that the boys, having had
one hare-and-hounds race, thought they would like now a
cross-country run.

“Ts that because any of them think that in playing hare
I cheated in the trail-making? They can have their cross-
country without me, you know.”

_ “Oh, well, Bat Kennedy is making talk like that, but I

haven't heard any one else, except your friend Realf.”

“He’s no friend of mine,” said Chip.

"So? I thought he.was. We'll leave him out. He
wasn’t in the other race. All the running he can do is to

n to his father for money when he’s broke, and that’s

the time.”

Bolton’s contempt, for COS the grumbler, was as
great as Chip’s.

_. “By the way,” said Bolton,
nan Hammerswell?”
“No one knows,”
ve cleared out.”

Mr. Realf has really bought Tillson’s Blue Bonnet
N e?”

“what has become of that

Chip informed him, “He seems to

2, he Soni it on the representations of another
vestigator, before Uncle Dick was called in, but Till-
refused to sign and turn over the Bua sid papers,

making some excuse. But he has done so now, and there is

no longer any dispute about the ownership.”

“Gold brick, isn’t it? I’ve heard that.”

“You'll have to ask Uncle Dick,” said Chip, smiling.

Bolton returned to the subject of the cross-country run
he had proposed, and, having won Chip’s consent, he pro-
ceeded to spread the news and make arrangements.

Chip knew that the desire of the Santa Fe fellows to
have him enter a cross-country run with’ them was
due to their belief that they had several runners who could
beat him.

The thought of this was one of the things that stirred
his blood. They wanted to beat him because he was a
Merriwell, because his admirers had been too noisy in
their boasting about his running abilities, and for the
further reason that it would be a particularly bright
feather in the cap of the runner who caused Chip’s defeat.

Doc Fisher talked seriously with Chip, when he learned
he intended to enter the cross-country.

“You're too easy,” he said, “and you need a lecture.
Just consider that I’m your great-uncle or your guardian
or your granddad—any old thing; and hearken to my wail.
You’re not in condition. That knock-out you got ought to
lay you up for a good ten days, and here, before you've
fairly got over the dizziness, you’re preparing to enter an-
other race.” Fisher’s lips twisted humorously. “What am
I going to do with obstreperous patients like you and
Barney Mulloy, anyhow ?”

“Give em up as hopeless.”

In spite of this speech, Fisher, mounted, was at the
starting point beyond the,old town, when the runners
and their friends and admirers gathered there on the
following day for the beginning of ‘the run.

There was a big crowd, some members of it on pee:
back, but many more on foot. Rhoda Realf was there, with
June Arlington and Mrs. Oliver, all well mounted; and
Chip Merriwell was fully aware of Rhoda’s presence. Chip
didn’t care to look at any one else, yet he did, so that .
the glances he sent in Rhoda’s direction would not be no-
ticeable. That Robert Realf was there, and also mounted,
was a minor matter. Chip tried not to look at him at all.
It seemed a pity that he was Rhoda’s brother.

Dick Merriwell was not present; with Mr. Realf and
Barney Mulloy, he had ridden out to the Blue Bonnet
Mine.

The previous evening, however, Dick had endeavored -
to give Chip some pointers that might help him in this
cross-country run.

“If they've got some real long-distance men in the.
Santa Fe crowd,” Dick had told him, “they’re going to push
you hard—give you a run for your money. Besides, what
Fisher says is true—you’re not in good condition, though
I’m not saying it to discourage you; I want you to win,
now that you’ve gone into it. I should have advised you,
like Fisher, not to enter it. There’s one thing that makes
me have strong hopes for you, even though you’re not
now in the best of form; and that is’—Dick smiled—“if
you will let me throw a bouquet at myself, I’ve given you —
some training of the right kind. These Santa Fe fellows
likely are just natural runners without much real train-
ing. In everything, it’s the training that counts. An-
other thing that’s going to help you—and that’s yours by _
nature: you have an ambition to excel. Within proper —
bounds, such an ambition helps largely to make a win-

 
‘NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY.

Though the route had been laid out and carefully studied
by every runner, and was familiar, for it covered prac-
tically the route taken by Chip Merriwell as hare, the
map on which it was marked, tacked up on a board at the
starting point, was consulted and discussed by the run-
ners with much care, as the time drew on for the begin-
ning of the run.

Watchers had been sent out who had established, or
were establishing, themselves at certain points along the
route, usually on hilltops overlooking the course, so that
the runners would be nearly all the time under the eyes
of some of these watchers.

This was to prevent dishonesty, or any questions of dis-
honesty, on the part of the runners in the way of failure
to cover the entire distance as it was marked on the map,
The watchers at various points were to observe and record
the passing of the runners. And a system of wigwagging
the news from hilltop to hilltop, and so on to the crowd at
the starting point, had been adopted.

Doc Fisher, whose opinion .of Robert Realf had grown
steadily worse, much to his regret, saw Realf dismount,
tie his horse to a little tree, and join a dark-faced man
who ‘had appeared at the end of an adobe wall not far
off.

“I'd give a week’s cgtiee to know what that means,”
thought Fisher.

Realf and the man disappeared together behind the wall,

‘Fisher would have thought his week’s salary truly well
spent if its expenditure could have conveyed .to him the
conversation taking place behind: that wall.. The man who
had been joined there by Realf had looked familiar to
Fisher, though he had not been able to place him; yet the
rascal was Hammerswell, so successfully disguised that he
had dared even to enter this crowd.

“Got the stuff with you?” Hammerswell had demanded
as soon as Realf was behind the concealing wall. “If

-not——”. é

_ “Oh, I’ve got it,” said Realf, with a flash of indignation;
“you'll find that I’m a fellow with some sense of honor. I
put that first hundred into your hands all right, didn’t I?
So what are you kicking about?”

“I never trust anybody,” said Hammerswell.

’ Realf took a roll of bills from his hip pocket. When
‘Hammerswell had counted the money, and found one hun-
dred dollars, he growled his. satisfaction and tucked it
Bway.
“I'm doing this to please myself,” he explained, now
that he had the money, “as much as to please you; which I
tell you now so that you'll see that I'll really do the work.
f, Vl fix him !”

_\ Realf’s pasty face glowed with a bit of unhealthy

. eater.

“See that you do,” he said;
mouth shut.”

: “No danger, Tadpole, that I won’t do that last’? Ham-
‘merswell sneered; “I'll get straight out of here as soon
as it’s done, too. I had some money that I got out of

 Tillson. for ‘selling that worthless mine for him to your

father, but I ble most of it in paying off the hands when

I discharged 'em.” He laughed. “So this two hundred is

needed in the worst way, pal i

“thes see that you keep your

Don't call me pal,” said Realf, wondering if the mine

; really was worthless.

“Oh, you're as bad as I am, you mucker, if you do try.

‘put on airs, ce _ (atanging, answer, “And wu

land where I’ve been, before you’re through. Do you
know where that is? Some people call it the pen, and it’s :
a hell on earth, let me tell you. Nobody will ever get me
there again ; I’ll kill the man that tries it, and then, if neces-
sary, I’ll kill myself,”

Realf shuddered.

“Well, you do what I’ve hired you to do,
sulkily. f

“I want to crack your heck, my boy, for iecpiean me,”
Hammerswell snarled. “When I got out of Cafion City, I 2
was determined to go straight hereafter, but I can’t. I
guess I was born crooked; anyway, I seemed to mire into
it without trying. Even a Taare bss like you takes
a hand in pulling me under.
recklessly; “I’ll make this ditve a young ‘Merriwil for
the sake of his father, and then New Mexico sees me no. i
more.’

“You’re not to kill him, you know,’ said Realf.
won’t stand for that. There’s to be no rough work.”

“What ‘d’ye call it—that you’ve hired me to do?”

“Just beat him up out there—anything, so that he is
knocked out and can’t win this race. -Then I'll have the

t RE nd @

fun of seeing him come limping in, and claiming that be- ~~

cause of untoward circumstances he failed; the circum-
stances being in the shapé of a dark-faced man with a
black mustache, who up and smashed him with a,club or
his fist. That’s all I want. I want to see some of the
fellows I know give him the sneer and the merry ha, ha.”

“Worse than I am,” said Hammerswell; “for I’ye had
cause to hate the Merriwells, and you haven’t. But that’s
all right, we'll not quarrel, for when thieves fall out, » you
know.” oe

“I’m not a thief!” Realf flashed at him.

“Oh, you’re young yet, The rope is growing for you.
But that’s all right; perhaps the mate a it’s growing brs

Well, good-by; I'll earn this money because I want
It’s not likely that you'll see me again.” re
= held out his huge hand.

of ri bigger rascal.

Hammerswell disappeared behind the adobe wall in:
direction of the near-by hills, and Realf came out:
walked over to get his horse.

Apparently, his coming and going had been observed
no one but Doc Fisher.

point. The spectators were increasing in numbers, ;

were crowding hard on the road, now and then ome 6

them leaping across it. P
“Stand back!” ne boys were commanding.

Out from the arises tents that were pitched som
tance off, the runners were coming, their appearance, b
greeted with cries and cheers.

The judges were in position close by the line, at
franten was near pre with his et oe

ney se
_ “They'll push himi hard,” Fisher was. seine ;
of. that gang ought to run a esihokg ds, to ; gh i

 
 

‘NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY.

‘their looks—Bolton in particular.
Chip seems fresh as a daisy.”
He saw Chip turn about and wave his hand. Fisher
- waved his in return, thinking it was meant for him. Ap-
parently Rhoda Realf thought it was for her, for ther hand-
-kerchief fluttered.
. “Off now in a second,” said Fisher, his eyes shining be-
hind their big glasses. “In spite of everything, I’m betting
on Chip.”

Well, here’s hoping?

CHAPTER IIL
PERIL IN THE CROSS-COUNTRY.

With the crack’ of the starter’s pistol, the eager run-

ners were off and away, clear-eyed, muscular, thrilled with

youth and the wine of life. They were a round dozen in

_ number, well bunclsed at the starting, and they went down
the road between the lines of cheering and shouting
people.

Beyond the turn of the road, which hid them from the
spectators, they begian to string out and scatter. Al-
ready a number of them were well ahead of Chip Merri-
well.

_ The spectators who had come out on horseback were
riding across the hills in order to reach favorable points
of observation.

Fisher, keeping along with June and Rhoda and Mrs.
thes. fell by natural gravitation in at Rhoda’s side.
“Chip Merriwell’s a lucky dog,” he was thinking; “still,
no one could admire her brother or want to be near him.
No good-looking girl ever drinks to the eyes of Fisher,

_ perhaps because she can’t see ’em on account of the big
glasses. It’s plain enough that she’s smashed on Chip.”

‘Fisher recalled the moment when he had first seen
Rhoda Realf, not knowing then who she was, but in his

- drugged conditiion inclined to think that the handsome girl
who had dropped so suddenly within his ken was an angel
who had come to help him out of his troubles; for Fish-
er’s head was feeling as big as a balloon, and he could
not be sure he was not dreaming. Fisher had been told
since that he had addressed some strange words to her.

Then Chip had come, and after that
“Well, my name was mud, after that,” thought Fisher.
“Chip Merriwell was the whole show, and then some.”
“Do you think Chip will win?” Rhoda demanded, fixing
~ her blue eyes on him.

“Sure thing?’ said Fisher.

“Yet I heard you say he wasn’t in condition.”

“I must have been talking in my sleep. When he has
ruin ten minutes he’ll work out all the sorentss and stiff-
ness, and, from that on, never realize that he isn’t the
finest ever. That’s what inheritance and training does.
Now T couldn’t qualify for a race like that if I tried a year.
Heredity again, you see. I’m a believer in it. I’ve got
lungs that are shot full of holes, and I’m blind, and got
tickets and rheumatism and yellow. fever.” _

“That isn’t true, of course. _But you know things, and
you're a hori doctor, they say; Barney Mulloy would
have been dead, I heard, if you hadn’t been out there to

“Don’ t believie all you hear, young lady,” said Fisher, is

as too modest to like praise when it was served up in a.

_ ladle. “What a fellow knows or doesn’t know cuts no ice

1 those who are equal to the athletic anne believe

This talk came as they were descending a hill, and had
to rein in their horses. When they were down and fol-
lowing June and Mrs. Ofiver, they were compelled to drive
a gait that made talking out of the question.

What Fisher had said about Chip’s ety to work off
all soreness and stiffness was true.

Having struck his stride, Chip was holding it steadily,
regardless of who was ahead of him.

He knew, however, that one of the runners in advance
was the grumbler, Bat Kennedy, and that another was
Park Bolton. Kennedy was the runner immediately ahead,
and, knowing that Kennedy had no liking for him, and
was a good deal of a scoundrel, Chip kept his eyes open.

When Chip’s steady stride began to close the gap be-
tween him and Kennedy, the latter spurted, and again se-
cured a good lead. Three times he did this in a run of
two miles, but Kennedy weakened himself by these ef-
forts, made early in the run.

Three of the seven runners who had been leading, Chip
passed before he reached the little pueblo village, the
point where the route swung round and bent back toward
Santa Fe by way of the Blue Bonnet Mine and the trail.
Among the four still ahead were Kennedy and Bolton,
Kennedy having held his position by continued spurting.

Chip was still running easily, reserving his strength
for the final stretches of the course.
second wind, which seemed to bring up strength and
increased breathing ability from some unknown depths S
reserve power.

When he had passed the little pueblo village, he re- .
called now how the Pueblos had run out and collected all
the flittering bits of paper, a thing which threw confusion
into the ranks of the hounds.

Again the Pueblo men came out of their little fields,
and the women appeared out of their adobe houses, and
watched the young runners swinging by. ‘
familiar with Indian running, so understood this tace bet-
ter than the hare-and-hounds chase.

They stood grinning, but voiceless; as the young run-_
ners ran past; and so stood until all were gone, when
they went back to their work, but with something new
to chatter about.

Chip waved his hand to the silent and friendly Puchios,
and thought of John Swiftwing, the friend of his father,
who had helped him so signally in Taos, which was Swift-
wing’s home. Then he passed on, and the Pueblos "ae
out of sight.

Twice Chip had seen ai cere on the hills, and he saw
more of them as he passed back on the route that swung
round toward the Blue Bonnet.

In the little valley between rough hills he overtook ia
passed Bat Kannedy, who had spurted so many times that
his strength was failing.

“You haven't won yet,” Bat growled at him; “there’s:
a better man than either of us ahead of you, and that’s
Bolton !”

The other runners, with, perhaps, the exception of Bol
ton, had been spurting, too, and were showing the effects.
Within less than half a mile after passing Keunedy, Chip
came up on another runner, and swung by him.

When halfway to the mine, he had passed all the run~
ners but Bolton.

balicinas about. With this knowledge, aid the knowle:
that Behan spurting or not, was out of aoe crate

 

And he had got his _

They were —
ce ee ‘NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY.

to Chip the strong temptation to increase his gait at this
point, and so close the distance.

But the hills here were rough, some sandy, others rocky,
and the conditions for rapid work were bad; if Bolton
was doing anything like sprinting work in this region, Chip
knew he could not last long. So, though the temptation to
hurry the pace was strong, Chip put it resolutely aside.

“A long race is a hard one, and the man in the best
condition as he nears the end is likely to be the man who
will win it,” he thought.

As he drew on toward the Blue Bonnet Mine, the route
taking him over a hill, Chip climbed in a way to save
his strength. all he could. Bolton had passed over it and
was out of sight, when Chip gained the summit.

‘In approaching this hill, Chip had been sure he saw
horsemen on it, watchers who had been sent out; but
when he gained the top of the hill, they were not to be
seen. Chip concluded they had ridden on ahead.

Chip felt a bit tired.

“That was a hard climb,” he thought, “but Bolton made
it, and is still ahead; must be a good distance ahead, too.
The rest of the runners are far behind. Bolton is some
runner, and is going to worry me. But I’ve held in, and
Til give him a ‘hot race when we come down toward the
finish.” '

As he was thinking thus, he heard the whine of a rifle
bullet and felt the brushing of its wind on his face. Al-
most at the same instant he heard off somewhere the
whiplike report of the rifle.

Chip’s heart jumped and his flesh crawled.

“Was that an accident?” he thought. “Some one out
here hunting, and let that go in this direction without
knowing I’m here?”

A dozen yards farther he doubted that this could be
true, when another ball flicked past him, with a snap-
ping scream, right over his head. Chip ducked invol-
untarily, though the ball had gone far on before he
could do it, and glanced round with a startled air.
“That was for me!”

He shifted his course, and leaped on, to put the hilltop
between him and the unseen rifleman. But, as if the
latter saw and interpreted the movement, another bullet

whistled past, cutting so close this time that his cap was

- flicked off.

_ Chip dived for his cap, and, getting low down as he
did it, he fairly threw himself over the rim of the hill.
He looked at his cap, and saw that the last bullet had
torn a hole in the crown.

“A close call,” he said, and again he felt his flesh
_ crawling.

He thought at once of Hammerswell, even though it
was believed that Hammerswell had left the vicinity of
Santa Fe.

“It’s a thing Hammerswell would do,” he reflected;
“just the thing he did to father on Pike’s Peak that time;
he’s the prize coward of America. Well, whoever it was,
he can’t get me here unless he shoots through the top of

this hill.”

, It was a , temptation to crawl back to the crest of the
hill, and, by hiding there, discover who the rascal was
who had fired the cowardly shots, but Chip knew he had
no time for that, unless h€ chose to give up all thought
of winning the run.

o he straightened out again in his steady gait, which
he quicketled when he found a level stretch on the ‘hillside,

that he might get off the dangerous hill before the rifleman
could come up to the top of it and shoot down at him, a
thing Chip now really feared.

This unexpected attack on his life did not help Chip’s
running powers; the quick jump of alarm when the
bullets tore by him had brought a loss of nerve tone.

Yet Chip was pulling himself together as he neared
the farther brow of the hill.
a dark ravine, bush screened. He thought he had seen
riders galloping into it, but had not been sure. They

Below him on the right was —

might have passed over the opposite hill, and be watching —

him from some high ridge.
Chip did not take time to trouble about them; “his

thoughts being now on the hard run he was gathering —
himself for, and on the-cowardly rifleman who might,

at any minute, gain the top of the hill he had left, and
begin to pump bullets at him.

As he thus tore along, danger came at him in an-
other and most unexpected shape.

it had been set going by human hands; which Chip was
sure was the case. ;

Chip’s first thought was that the rifleman had gained
that “point, and had chosen this method .of attack, be-
cause he had shot away his cartridges.

Chip saw that the bounding rock was coming straight
toward him.

Trying to stop quickly and turn, he slipped in the viele
ing sarid, and, seeing that he could not get out of. the
way, he threw himself flat on his face, hoping the bowlder

would leap over him, as it came now in great bounds that

threw it yards into the air. :
If. it bounded over him, all would be well,
struck in the place he had cast himself down——

The question was settled in the time it takes to think

of it, for the speed of the leaping bowlder approximated

that of the wind. It struck, plowed into the sand, which it ”

threw up in a shower, impinged on a stone, and flew into
the air. The sand it had lifted fell on Chip like blinding

A tock on the rim of
the hill above started down with a jumping motion, as if

but if ‘ ‘

d

spray. With a whizzing roar the bowlder passed over in —

the sand cloud, and drove wildly down the hill, into the”
depths of the dark ravine.

Chip heard it strike as if it had landed in a sand caleba
heard a crashing as though it broke on its way farther, ©

rending and bruising; but before these final roaring

sounds reached him he was springing up and darting on

his way, wildly desirous of ore this demon-infested —
hillside. ,

Chip was no longer holding himself in; he was running |
with all his wight. He knew he had’ lost still further
nerve tone, and that he was weakening himself, as he
came out on the farther brow of the hill, and, looking down ©
into the trail, saw Bolton running in it, and far beyond a
blur of figures where the run ended.

Chip let himself down the hill as easily as he could, is

at a good gait. The time for hot running was drawing |
closer and closer, and must be done if he would win.

“It was impessible for Chip to put out of his mind the

thought of the attempts apparently made on his life
and of Hammerswell; for he believed that Hanae
was the author of the attempts.

Yet he tried to do so as he let himself down the bill
and to a large degree accomplished it as he struck into the
trail and settled down to reduce the lead that Bolton nov

 
 

at the end of his attempt.

 

 

NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY.

_ Chip’s reserve power began to make itself tell, as he
straightened out in the trail which led from the Blue
_ Bonnet into the main road to Santa Fe, and he put aside
to a large extent all thoughts other than those needed in
the running of the race,
Chip did not spare himself longer, nor sttive to store
up his strength, for the time had come at last for its ex-
_ pendittre.
In spite of some strictures that Dick Méerriwel]l had
felt called to make on the style and character of Chip’s
running, which Dick thought it was wise to make for
Chip’s betterment, Chip Merriwell was a fine and beauti-
ful runner; not trained yet as perfectly as Dick himself,
nor the elder Frank Merriwell, but possessing a natural
_ grace and running ability which to witness was to enjoy.
. And there were here as he drew on toward the starting
- point, or the finishing point if you will, many watchers
_ who had climbed to the tops of the low hills, and were
viewing this finish of the long race.
‘What these watchers beheld were two strenuous run-
ners struggling in toward the finish, with the one behind

A _ gaining steadily, yard by yard, on the other.

Bolton was reaching the limits of his powers. In his

efforts to get and hold a good lead on the only runner

he feared, Chip Merriwell, he had overdone, and it was
now telling on him, just at the time when his best run-
ning ability was needed. ie

He tried to spurt when he became aware that Chip
was steadily decreasing the separating distance, but he
had not the “punch” for it; he lost speed very noticeably
His heart was pounding up
- into his throat, which was dry and hot and choking; his
breathing was impeded, as if a painful weight pressed
on his lungs; strength was going out of his trembling
limbs. His gait had become a reeling motion that swung
_ him from side to side of the trail and the road,

- “It was undeniable that Chip Merriwell was not fresh,
and he, too, was feeling now the effect of the long run,
and particularly of the nerve-trying things that had hap-
pened. Yet he was fresh, compared with the exhausted
‘runner who was staggering on ahead of him.

‘Yard by yard, Chip was lessening the distance. When
he could see the spectators crowding in long lines on
_ the sides of the road at the finishing point, could see their
waving handkerchiefs and hats, and hear their cheers
rising, Chip threw his last strength into a sprimting finish,
- It brought him up to Bolton.

__ Bolton tried to sprint again, and for a dozen’ yards they
ran side by side. Then Bolton was passed, and. Chip strug-
- gled on toward the tape.

He wanted to make a good finish; the cheers with which
‘the sprinting that had pulled him past Bolton had been
witnessed threw the needed new life into him. So, with
head and chest thrown back, his mouth open to get all the
air he could suck into his gasping lungs, with his ears

‘ringing and his sight blurring, Chip breasted the tape, and

‘flashed over the line a winner by a good margin,

_ Into the arms of one of the guards he reeled, and felt
etaslt supported, while the spectators rushed round him
yelling and cheering like wild men,

t Bolton, crossing the line a little later, dropped uncen-
cious as he crossed the line, and was carried out where
he could get needed air. Water was thrown in his. face,

ving hats fanned him, and yells and shouts rose, com-

Round Chip was a yelling mob, that blurred before hi
eyes; as if with a jerk, he came. back to a full realiza-
tion of everything. Then he knew that by his exhausting ~
sprint in the finish he had won the run handsomely, de-
feating the best and gamest,.as well as fairest, runner
that Santa Fe could produce.

“You're all right,” said the guard who had caught him
as he came over the line, seeing that Chip was rapidly
recovering; “that was a run, and then some.”

He turned round and lifted his hat.

“Everybody now,” he yelled, and his hat came swinging
round; “three cheers for Chip Merriwell, the winner of
our Santa Fe cross-country !”

The cheers arose, given with a will.

CHAPTER IV.
A RASCAL IN THE MAKING.

“Oh, piffle!
ball!”

Robert Realf, thrusting up his head for a look through
some bushes near the top of the hill, heard the snapping
report of the rifle, and knew that Hammerswell,. the
coward, had taken a shot at Chip Merriwell.

Realf was angered. t

“What's the fool mean by. that?” he added. “He's. try-
ing to commit murder. : The idiot! I.didn’t. pay him. to
do that kind of work. I paid him to get in Chip’s way, beat
him up, and cause him to lose the run. Now he’s .trying
to kill him. Say, Hammerswell. must be crazy,” he added,
as another report snapped out on the quiet air, “and he’s

That makes me swallow the ping-pong

"preparing to get himself into serious. trouble, and me,

too,”

The third rifle shot sounded, knocking off Chin's capj,
and as Chip had dived downward, for a moment or so —
Realf thought he had been struck. i

But when Chip came up, with his cap in place; and went
right on in his running, the relief which Realf felt did
not lessen his rascally desire to see Chip defeated and
humiliated.

“Hammerswell, the fool, has lost the only chance he’
had,” he snarled. “Why couldn’t he do what I_hired him |
to? Chip is safe from him now, and is coming right on.”

With the passing of his temporary anxiety, there came
a return of the hatred that burned in hi:
Chip Merriwell.

From his vantage point he. had seen Bolton pass on
toward the valley trail, and had noticed that Bolton. was
running heavily. The manner in which Chip was running ~
convinced him that when Chip got down into the trail
he would not only push Bolton hard, in the final burst of
speed for the goal, but would, almost without doubt, now
defeat him, -

The thought of it was wormwood and gall, and all dhe
other bitter things. It threw Realf into a blind fury. .

“Oh, isn’t there something I can do?” he wailed, ‘aioe
ing that Hammerswell had failed him, after taking his
money. “I must do something!” ie

For a mjnute, as Chip came on, Realf lay glaring ou

at him, his colorless face writhing with hatred, He dis-
liked Chip so intensely that it clouded not. only. his judg-
ment, but made him so thoroughly reckless that at the
moment he was ready to do anything; he was even : e=
grétting that Hammerswell had failed. — ge

Yet. Chip had \never done anything to” provoke |

 

small soul eachi: a
dollars.

NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY.

~ enmity. However, there was the fact that he had shown

“an interést in Realf’s good-looking and vivacious sister.

That of itself was enough. The Realfs were, in Robert’s
opinion, on a pinnacle so high that Chip Merriwell de-
graded them by even aspiring in their direction.

That of itself might not have driven the hot-head to
desperation; he was pushed over the line by Chip’s quiet
smiles and Fisher’s caustic comments when they heard
his continual boasting about his father and family, their
wealth, their superiority, and the superiority of his wealthy
and titled friends abroad. It was all silly and ridiculous
to Chip and-Fisher. And their light manner of treating
his vaunting claims/ humiliated him and filled him with
rage.

The main trouble with Realf was that all his life he
had been surrounded by fawners; first by servants who
made him think he was the most wonderful person in the
world, and later by young fellows and girls as silly as
himself, and who had continued this fawning and flattery,
simply because they thought Realf was rich, and de-
manded it.

To get out into the world where this attention was not
only withdrawn, but its place filled with criticisms and
knowing smiles which he considered insults, had been un-
bearable. Neither Chip nor Fisher showed any intention
of acknowledging his great superiority, and Realf. could
not condone it.

Passive hatred, becoming active, by degrees had merged
into a-criminal desire to be revenged by injuring these
enemies, of whom he regarded Chip as chief.

So he thad hired Hammerswell, the one-time sporting
thug, to do the thing he could not do himself: “beat Chip
to pieces,” and cause him to lose the run which he knew
Chip had set his heart on. winning.

Now Hammerswell, showing himself. a coward and a
dastard, had failed, because he feared to come out into
the open, and had shot at Chip from ambush; yet Chip

was going on unscathed to win the race, with only Bolton
ahead of him, and Bolton showing signs of distress.

Realf ‘had left his horse at the foot of the hill, and had
climbed to the top so that he might witness Hammerswell’s

assault on Chip, which was to take place-there. He won-
dered now if he could get back to his horse, and, while
riding 6n, plan something which would yet bring about
Chip’s undoing.

His mind was not equal to inventing anything, and. it
‘was a long scramble down to his horse; so, in impotence,
he watched Chip advancing, with the thought that he
could do nothing. If his courage had been greater, or he
had possessed the requisite strength, he might have been
driven to leap out and attempt the assault that Ham-
merswell had failed to make.

“What can I do?” he said. “Isn’t there something I can
do? - He will pass right down there! Can’t I do some-
thing? I wouldn’t have him win this run for five hundred
Oh, I’ve got to do something !”

When one works himself into such a fury, he is ready
to do any number of things which he would recoil from
in horror in his calm moments.

 Realf’s feet were pressing against a good-sized bowlder
as he writhed in his impotence, and it moved.

_ A thought as murderous as that which had overtaken
~Hammerswell came into his mind, though he qualified it
by hoping he could injure Chip and not kill him. He
would hurl the bowlder down on him,

lis excited imagination pictured it scudding down the
slope. It seemed that by pushing it right, at the right
moment, it could be made to strike Chip. Of course,
Realf thought, it would strike his feet or legs; perhaps
it would break his legs, but that would not matter. If it
struck him, it would put him completely out of the run.

It is only fair to Realf to say that he would not have
dreamed éven of harboring this cowardly thought if he had
been sane; for at the moment he was insane. :

His only fear was that he could not start the bowlder
so that it would surely strike the runner; that required
quickness and accuracy.
concealed, and that would hamper. But he made a hasty
estimate of the speed at which Chip was coming, and the
probable speed of the bowlder.

With his hands he loosened it in its bed, then put is
feet against it; and, with his mind hot and whirling, he
pushed the bowlder into flight with his feet, when Chip
reached the spot which he had estimated would give the
stone the best chance. ni

With a rushing bound it started, and the sharp slope —
of the hill did the rest; it began to leap, instead of sliding.
Lying in the bushes, Realf watched it go, somewhat aston-
ished by its manner of flight. Its leaps increased; sand —
and small stones shot on before it. 4

He saw Chip start to turn back to escape, saw > him
fall. The blur became blindness then; yet, as in a haze,
Realf saw the stone fly over and beyond the runner who
had fallen, and, while he lay almost famntigg from the.
reaction, he heard it storming down into the/fravine and
saw Chip leap up and press on.

As Chip disappeared over the brow of the hill and —
out of sight, Realf heard struggling sounds down in the
ravine, then a human cry; and, as he sprang up, a wail
reached him, in a voice that he recognized as his sister’s. —

“Rhoda—down there!” he gasped, his face suddenly —
white as a sheet. “Rhoda!”

What she was doing there—how she got there—he
could not conceive; but he knew she was there, and prob-
ably was hurt, for her cry rose again; a cry of fright,
and also a call for help. .

Realf, for a moment, thought he was fainting—black-
ness gathered over him, and he seemed falling. But it
passed. An instant after, he was making a staggering —
attempt to get down the hill, sliding and stumbling along
in the wake of the bowlder.

CHAPTER V.
: BROTHER AND SISTER.

Rhoda Realf had galloped on with Doc Fisher, June
Arlington, and Mrs. Oliver, all seeking hilltops from which ©
they could see as much as possible of the cross-country —
run.

All were interested in the success of Chip Merriwell,
of course, even Mrs. Oliver, the young and comely matron |
whose home was in Santa Fe. The desire of Rhoda
was even more anxious and personal than that of Chip’s.
closest friend, Doc Fisher himself.

Now and again from hilltops they caught sight of some
of the runners, and they came on watchers stationed out

once did they see Chip, far over toward the pueblo;
sighting him through the field glasses June carried. |

“He'll make the turn there,” said June, “and come back

nf

 

 

Also, he must keep himself —
 
 
 
 
 
  

 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
 
  
 
   
  
  
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
  
  
 

  
  

 
 
  
 
  
 

\ on which she might have fallen.
- sharp fall, and it so dazed-and-jolted her that, for a little
23 pee she was speechless.

 

 

‘NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY.

this way, only farther over toward the mine; so wed
better get over in that direction. There are some low
hills over there we can climb with our horses.”

In the galloping search for good viewpoints, Rhoda Realf
fell behind, even Doc Fisher ungallantly riding away from
her in his desire to reach some point from which he
could see Chip making his great return run.

A bit bewildered on suddenly finding herself alone,
Rhoda made an error, so that, instead of following the
others, she passed in the wrong way round the low hill,
and, after a scrambling dash, found herself down in a
ravine, instead of mounting toward the hilltop which she
thought her friends had been trying to reach.

Her horse stumbling over a fallen pifion, and nearly
throwing her, came to a halt. The girl looked about.

She did not see Chip, who was now running across the
hill high above her, nor did she hear the shots sent at
him by the vindictive scoundrel whom her brother had
hired to meet him and beat so that he could not win the
run. The reason of her failure to hear them being, per-
haps, the fact, that, at the time, her horse was crashing
about, as she tried to extricate it from the snarl it had
fallen into.

“Oh, dear,” she was saying, “what shall I do?” and was

growing frightened. She was also indignant, for she was

not blaming herself, but Fisher. “What a mess I’ve got
into down here. I don’t see how I’m going to get out.”

While she was trying to make headway against the

brushy limbs of fallen trees and heaps of stones, she

heard a roar on the hillside over her, and was transfixed
with fear when she saw that a big, stone was coming
down on her in great bounds, tearing through the bushy

screen of the low trees. .

Lashing ‘her horse with her quirt, she tried to get ott
of the way, but only drove him into it... The stone
bounded, shot on after colliding with another that- spun

“it upward and whirling, and struck Rhoda’s horse.

_ Hitting the horse’s hip, the stone would have crushed
it but for the fact that its plunge through the bushes ‘and
the encounter with ‘the other ‘stone had decreased its
frightful momentum to such an extent that its. smashing
power had been greatly lessened.

However, the blow threw the horse round and off its

_ feet, oyerturning it in the bottom of the ravine, and hurling
_ Rhoda out of her saddle.

It was a fortunate. chance that flung her into a bed of
loose sand, as there “were bowlders and trees around her
Nevertheless, it was-a

 

 

 
 

 

  
 
 

 

  

_ Then she discovered that her fists was floundering and
“trying: to rise, and, in her fright, her wailing cry for help

Bt Gs BTOSE.

Chip, having passed on over the hill, was not near
enough to hear it.

She was scrambling up at last, crying and trembling,
thoroughly frightened after the danger was. over, pain-
fully aware that she was rumpled and bruised, when she
heard more crashing on the hillside, making her fear
that another stone was coming,

When she turned to look, she was amazed to see that

the noise she now heard was made by her brother.

“Oh, Robert!” she screeched, overjoyed. “I’m in anawful
mess down here, and—and I thought IT was kuk-killed,”

_ it; and Chip Merriwell is the cheapest bbe ae whole

  

But Robert was still some distance off, and it took time
to get down to her.

“What’s up?” he said, as if he didn’t know.
you howling.”

“That big rock that came down; it—it came near strik-
ing me, and it did strike my horse, and threw me out of
my saddle,”

“Hurt?” he called, as he scrambled on into the bottom
of the ravine.

“T dud-don’t know; I’m shaking so that I don’t know
anything.”

“Chip Merriwell did that,” he said, his lips trembling.

“Chip Mer—— I don’t believe it!”

“Well, I saw him; but,” he added, “he may not hawe
meant to do it. I was higher on the hill, where I’d gone
to watch the runners; and he came tearing by, and then
that stone started from the spot he passed over; he may
have loosened it accidentally with his feet, but I don’t think
he did.”

His putty face was white as ashes, and he was shaking.

“T heard

“He wouldn’t do a thing like that—purposely. He’s too
much of a gentleman for that!”
“Oh, I don’t know,” said Robert sullenly; “I think he

would,”

“Roll a stone like that down at me?”

“Not at you, of course,” he hedged; “I didn’t mean that.
At some of the runners:. There were some down here
a while ago. I saw them taking their way through this
low ground. -It’s my opinion that he thought they were
trying: for a short cut, and he sent that stone down to
disable them, or worse. He isn’t too good for it, Rhoda.” ’

She turned from him, spots. of red- flaming into her
cheeks.

“See if my horse is hurt, won’t you?” -she eed.

“Where’s the rest of your crowd?” he demanded.-

“Oh, I don’t know ;-I don’t——” :

Sobs shook her.

“What you crying about?” he asked sannttipniiies

“Because I wasn’t killed, I guess,” she stammered;
gave me stich: a shock that it seems I must cry or ae
something. When I. was knocked out of my wodtle I al-
most fainted.”

_ “Should think you might,’ he said gruffly, as he made
his way over to her horse. It-had struggled to its. feet,
and seemed half in the notion of trying to-run.

“Where—where is Chip, if you saw him?”

“Oh, where is Chip?” he snarled. “I don’t know. where
the fool is, and I-don’t care. I’m wondering where those
runners ‘are that he tried to get: when he set that stone
going. Td like-to know about that.”

“He wouldn't do that, Robert!”

“How do you know he wouldn’t? Of course he would,
And I saw him!”

“T don’t believe it!” she declared. °

Robert Realf went over to the horse, and, getting it by
the bridle rein, tried to quiet it.

“Will—Chip win the race?” she quavered,

“T hope not—after that.”

“What makes you so mean, Robert?”

“What makes you such a fool?” he snapped.

He began to quiet the trembling horse.

“That push that you were with left you, did they? Rode
right off from you? That’s what I’d expected them to do.
They're a cheap lot, Rhoda, and you ought to understand

      
        
     
     
     
       
       
NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY.

Merriwell outfit are braggarts and ‘blowhards, as far as I
can make out.’

“Robert !”

“Stand up for -him, would yOu? That shows how much
sense you've got. A’ girl:like -you standing up for that
whelp, Chip Merriwell, and for his gang.”

“T won’t, hear you’ talk. that way,” she declared, her
face. burning with indignation. “And I don’t believe you
when you say Chip sent that stone down to hurt some of
the runners. He wouldn’t do that, Robert. Be reasonable,
even if you don’t like him.” \

She began, ¢rying, to rub the arm on which she had
fallen when she was shot out of the saddle.

' “Now blubber!, You make me sick! Why don’t. you
say where that crowd is that you were riding with?
Fisher is another fine gentleman, to ride off and leave you!
But what could you expect? He’s like all the rest of the
_ pinheads that flock round Chip Merriwell. Td: like to
tell him what I think: of him.”

_ He. looked tound»at the brush and the fallen trees,
and.he was thinking that fate had played well with him,
for he had. not committed the.crime of striking Chip
Merriwell with that deadly stone, and though his sister
had got in its path, she was apparently not much hurt.
He could not discover that the horse was hurt, except
that there was. a rake on its hip,.from which a small
amount of blood had trickled.
“Tl lead the horse back the way you came—there are
its tracks; and as soon as we get out of this snarl you
-¢an mount again. My beast is on the other side of the
hill, and we'll have to go round there to get it. The hill is
- steeper on that side, so I climbed up on foot to see the
runners. It’s been a bum race.”

He gave Rhoda a sidling glance.

“You didn’t hear any shooting?”

NO”

“I thought one dns I did, but it must have been the

wind whacking the limbs of trees together. Let’s’ see if
we-can get out of this beastly hole. What made you ride
into it, anyway? You ought to have had sense enough
to see what you were riding into!”

i ME got lost, I think.”

“They rode right off and left you?” .

“TT’'m afraid. they did.”

. “Nice set!” he sneered. “But/what did 7 expect from

hat.crowd?”.

“They didn’t mean to do it, Robert!”

4

cont re such dears! Don’t be hard on the darlings,
oy ited: hate you!’ she erled.
‘They're spoiling even you,” he paid:
“They couldn’t spoil you; it’s been done already. Rob-
if think. aon *re horrid.”

“and you are horrid, Robert..
I dever like you adic Her voice rose: “If you're
to. id me and get my horse out of bet patty

\ and left you?”

The. bully in him quailed before the blaze of her
eyes and the contempt in her voice.

“It’s going to be a job,” he said; “you: were the prize
silly for riding into a place like this. I suppose~ that
crazy crew you were with has gone on toward Santa Fe

“I don’t believe it,” she declared, ‘her’ voice still high
and scornful. }

“Well, youll know it’s so when we get out of this—if.
we ever do.”

He began to rave against the fallen pifions and the stones
that choked the bottom of the ravine, and jerked the horse
along cruelly by the bit. @

“From the looks of this place,” he growled, “one might
think he was in the jungles of Africa, instead of this
half desert that they call New Mexico.
down here.
icans and fleas; why any one would want to live in it gets Ht
my goat. And now. father has bought that mine, and I
suppose he'll be down here half the time; and we'll have
to come here, when we have any vacations. I’ve heard,
too, that he got stuck when he bought it. But it will be
just like him to go on and throw good dollars after bad
ones.” }

“You ought to be ashamed to talk that way about father,”
she exclaimed. “And I think it’s splendid down here.”

“Oh, sure! Chip Merriwell is here. [I’m going to tell
father to take you away from here, and keep you away.
It will be a good while before you see Santa Fe again, —
when you leave it,” . ;

“You're so mean that I won’t talk with you,” she said, i
and followed him in silence, as he jerked the horse Bile.
and sought a way out of the tangle.,

When they had toiled out, she mounted, and they went
on round the hill in the direction Rhoda should have
taken at first. They came finally upon Doc Fisher a
the women with him,,who were making a scurrying gallop
back over the way they had gone, looking for Rhoda, f

“We were so excited,’ said Fisher, after they had
apologized, “that we didn’t miss you; thought you were
coming right along behind us, until we got over on that
other hill. Then we stayed there, for we caught sight of
Chip as he left the hill and. swung out into the Blue.
Bonnet trail,
Arlington’s field glasses. Then we came back to pick you
up.” ; ; ; ‘ ;

“What struck your horse?” June asked, her lustrous eyes —
observing the rake across its hip and the trail of coagulated —
blood.

“Chip Merriwell did that,” said Realf, his face hardening.

“You said you weren’t sure, Robert,” Rhoda corrected;
“and that, if he did, it was an accident.”

Hastily she explained, before her brdther could say any-
thing else disagreeable, ae

“Chip is a gentleman,” declared Fisher curtly, gta
at Realf.

“I know what I saw,” said Realf, and turned away. “Tye”
got to go and get my horse.”

He stopped, hesitating.

“You didn’t see any runners come through that isw
ground?” he asked. 3
“No,” said Fisher, “I don’t think any tame: that ay 5
“Well, they did. I saw something moving down there, »
poe ee. saw it, pe He engin rimners were, di wn

 

 

I’m sick of it iy
Old Santa Fe is a dust heap, filled with Mex- ._

and followed him some time with Miss —
 

 

NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY.

there, and he loosened that stone and sent it down just
to smash them.”

June pulled her horse round, too indignant to trust her-
self to speak.

Doc Fisher sat glaring at him.

Having delivered this cowardly shot, Realf _turned and
began to scramble up the hill.

“The scoundrel and liar,” thought Fisher.

When he drew his horse round, his face was pale and
his lips were trembling.

CHAPTER VI.
_ MULLOY AND HAMMERSWELL.

There had been another on the hilltop, unknown to any
of those mentioned, and that was Barney Mulloy.

With Dick Merriwell and~ Ruel Realf, he had ridden
that morning out to the Blue Bonnet Mine, going because
Dick believed that Mulloy’s experience as a prospector
-and in practical mining would be valuable in helping him
to make a careful estimate of the property that Realf had
bought of Tillson on representations made by Herbert
Hammerswell.

Hammerswell, being a liar and criminal, it could not
be expected that his report to Realf’ had been fair, even
though Realf had employed him, and it was quite as
likely he would make a report that would be against his
employer’s interest.

Dick more than suspected that this was what Ham-
merswell had done; that he had been paid by Tillson to
make a false report, and, in consequence, Realf, who
knew nothing about mines or mining, had been unbeliev-
ably swindled. |

Dick Merriwell was sometimes so slow in coming to
a decision on a matter of great importance, that those
who did not know him were inclined, now and then, to
think that his really great skill was but a matter of
boasting. Dick went slow because he intended to be
absolutely sure and absolutely right before giving advice
that meant the investment of large sums of money. That
was what he was paid for,’ the thing he /demanded good
pay for, too, and he was determined’ always to earn
his money by giving advice that was worth it. Only in
that way could the reputation of the Merriwell Company
be built up and supported.

It was true that Dick had not been always careful
where his own money was concerned. He had. more than
once been reckless with it, trying to help and favor friends.
In that way he had lost his fortune in the Valdivian
revolution, while he was trying to serve June and Chester

Arlington. Recently it had been brought to his mind
rather painfully by some things June had said.

In the present case, if he had to advise Realf that he
' had been swindled, he wanted to be so sure that not an
iota of guesswork could enter into his statement, and no
one could come along later and contradict, and make
Realf think that he had been up against a faker when
he dealt with a representative of the Merriwell Com-
| pany.

Therefore, he urged thak Mulloy should accompany them,
~ to look the mine over with them, even though Mulloy
was not in good physical condition, and was mately. out
_ of the hospital.

‘And plucky Mulloy went along, to assist Dick all he

could, chiefly because he was a loyal friend and adherent
of Frank Merriwell, and Dick was Frank’s brother.

They had gone out from Santa Fe early in the morn-
ing, and had already spent a long time in going through
the mine before the runners set forth on their record-
breaking cross-country.

Dick was confirmed in his suspicion that Tillson was the
boss faker of all; that he had opened shafts that had
nothing in them of value save a little color, and had run
drifts, and timbered and shored up tunnels for the sole
purpose of making unwary would-be purchasers believe
that active and profitable work was being carried on,
and that the mine was a good yielder.

Then, when Realf came along with his money burning
holes in his pocket, looking for a piece of mining prop-
erty, with Hammerswell hired to help him, Tillson had
bribed Hammerswell.

It all became clear, as Dick and those with him went over
the mine in the first very careful examination that Dick
had been able to give it, that the timbering of the tunnels
was flimsy and unsafe, the drifts ran into worthless rock
banks, and, while here and there silver was found, it
was not in quantities great enough to make the, working
of the mine pay more than expenses, if it would pay that.

There was noone in the mine at the time, for the Mex-
icans had been sent away, with the few Americans who
had been with them, and no new men had come in. And
Hammerswell was gone; also, Tillson, as soon as he, had
cashed Realf’s check at one of the banks of Santa Fe.

In addition, there were evidences that the mine had been:
“salted.”

However, Dick saw, and he was cchGined in this by
Barney Mulloy, that some of the seams of silver might
open into good pay streaks, by pushing them farther along;
and as Realf now had the white elephant on his hands, ©
Dick advised that this should be done, in the hope that —
profitable mining might be opened up at last; for he had
known of mines that had been wholly abandoned, or even
not properly begun, that in the end, after much meney
had been spent, had proved profitable.

Dick would not hold out a hope that this could be done
in the case of the Blue Bonnet. He would only say that
it might come that way, and advise that, as so much had
been put into it, a little more ought to be spent to learn
just what the mine contained.

Realf wanted Dick Merriwell to undertake that work
for him, but Dick thought he did not care to do it. Then
Realf had turned to Barney Mulloy, who was, at the time,
out of profitable work. Like every prospector, he was
fully expecting that he would soon make a rich strike.
He had been grubstaked by a firm in Denver, so had
some money and the means of living; and if he found
anything he would be a partner in it with the men who om
grubstaked him.

Yet he had spent several months without discovering —
anything of much value. So he was ready to give over
the grubstake work and accept Realf’s offer, particularly -
as it carried the promise of a good salary.

Mulloy had left the mine, while Dick and Realf were
talking over things in the mint office, and had gone forth~
toward the hilltop, that he might think over more fully —
the offer made him, which he had only tentatively ac-
cepted, and, also, because he had some little interest in
the cross-country run in which he knew Chip Merriwell
was taking a part.

 
NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY.

It was good to lie in the warm sun on the hilltop. It
seemed to give him back his strength and quiet the throb-
bing of his head. A bandage was round it, under his hat,
covering the wound that had been made by the rake of
Hammerswell’s murderous bullet.

Thinking of Hammerswell as he lay there, his fingers
worked convulsively.

“?Tis the thafe he is,” he muttered, “Av 1 could git
me two hands an him I’d sthrangle him. But he’s lift the
counthry, and he won’t be coming this way anny morte,
I’m thinkin’, now that he’s got that money. I’m wonderin’
av it can be thrue, what I heard in Santy Fay, thot Realf-f
is spindin’ his money faster than it’s comin’ in. But ’tis no
business av me own. It’s good pay he’s afferin’ me, and
he’s me bist wishes.”

He cuddled down, letting the warm sunshine of the fine

October day stream over him.

“T ¢’d go to shlape, and fale th’ betther av ut.
What was that now?”

He heard a sound on the hill, some distance away.

“I saypose ut’s th’ wind movin’ in the threes, They're
luckin’ purty, th’ day now. Th’ pines ar-re as grane as
the flag av Ireland, and the l’aves av the aspins are turnin’
thot yellow they luck like goold. ‘Tis a great worruld,
aven down. here. It must be luckin’ foine back East, but

colder. There’s some frost there now, I’m guessin’, and
-tmaybe snaw and ice in places. Glory be! ’Tis a great
worruld annyhow. And to think thot down here I should
tun oop agin’ a Merriwell. But it’s to be ixpicted. They
hop about loike fleas. Will I git to see Frank this thrip,

Whist !

_ I dunno? ’Twould climb th’ cap ax, as I heard Harry Rat-

_tleton say wanst.”
Somewhere below he heard a horseman, and as he sat
up looking about after a while, he beheld Robert Realf
climbing the slope, slipping along as if he sought con-
cealment. .

“?*Tis th’ Garden av Eden round me, an’ the shnake
slippin’ t’rough it. He’s shlippin’ along, too, loike a dog
that’s had rocks pitched at it and wants to be gittin’ away.

_ Arrah! But that young felly’s th’ skoonk.”’

He watched Realf until he passed out of sight.

Without knowing just why he did it, Barney Mulloy got
up carefully and began to go in the same direction, but,
seeing nothing more of Realf, he dropped down again,
and sat enjoying the sunshine, until he heard the whiplike

report of Hammerswell’s rifle.

on? ‘Whurroo!” he exclairned, flopping over quickly and

lifting his head. “Somebody hunting out here, is it? Th’
-b’y that wint past me, I dunno? ’Twas th’ ither day he was

hunting, but thin he had no gun loike that, and joost now

he had none at all, at all.”
Mulloy climbed slowly to his feet, behind a thick cedar.
When he looked out he saw Chip Merriwell, in light
Tunning costume, coming along tie tent of the hill at a
swinging pace.
_“Abh-h!” he said.
hat ither wan. He’s leggin’ ut, too, in good shape.
pose th’ ither b’y clim’ up here to watch him runnin’,
_ The rifle cracked again, and he saw Chip flinch and duck.
_ Mulloy’s anger jumped instantly to fever heat.
; “Ah-h | Thi beggar is shootin’ at him FY

“Th’ b’y thot’s worth twinty million av
I say-

999

““Shmokeless wile is ut? But me eyes ar-re keen, ad
know where ye ar-re, ye hound av th’ airth .

He brought up a purse crammed with money, ’ and a soiled

out toward the concealed rifle-
man, but stopped to look at Chip again. Chip had rushed
to one side. Then agaim the snapping report of the rifle
came, and the cap was flicked from Chip’s head.

Chip swung downward, picked it up, scratched at his
head. Then he slapped the cap on, and bounded away,
lower down, getting the peak of the hill between him and
the man who had shot. at him.

Barney Mulloy did not wait to see more; he was mov-
ing toward the rifleman, after seeing that Chip had leaped
on, apparently untouched.

“'Tis the iligant bating some wan is going to get av I ~
can lay me two hands an him,” he sputtered; “th’ dirthy
thrick avy ut—to be shooting’ wid a rifle.”

He was not willing to believe that Robert Realf, much
as he disliked him, had done the shooting.

He was about to move

“If it was Hammerswell, his head I'll be breaking,” he fe

snarled, “the scut! °*Twould be loike him. I mind th’ —
time he pulled wid a rifle at Frank Merriwell, an’ later |
got a pinitentiary sintince. Why do they lave the loikes
av him go free at all? ‘Tis buried alive foriver they

should be, the scum av the worruld that they ar-re,”

Barney Mulloy’s boiling rage and intense desire to un- —
cover the rifleman and punish him did not make him ignore
the fact that the rifleman, being armed, would have him at
a disadvantage, and could shoot him down as he ap~
proached. ,

He began to use caution, and he moderated the speed —
that at first had sent him tearing along; also, he began to
seek cover, and looked ahead, ne

Having located the place from which the shots had
been fired, by the thin wisp of smoke that for a mo-
ment had hovered over it, he began to consider how he
could gain it and surprise the man who apparently still
lay there in hiding; and he swung round, lower on the |
hillside, making a detour that put him below the clump of
green bushes. og

Stooping, well within concealment now, Mulloy moped:
along rapidly, forgetting. that he had a bandaged head —
and an unhealed wound, and that more than once that
day he had felt so weak and shaky he had been compelled
to rest.

By some careful work, Mulloy so managéed his approach
to the bushes that he came unobserved up behind Ham- |
merswell,, who stood now with his head out of the bushes
looking along the hill. His rifle he had dropped into the -
hollow of his arm. 1D

With a stone he had picked up, Mulloy drove straight
at Hammerswell’s broad back, and‘ made so accurate a
throw that the rascal was knocked down.

Before Hammerswell could rise or recover from the eft
fects of the blow, Barney Mulloy was on top of him,
having made a jump like a panther.
Hammerswell, he clutched him by the throat with one hand,
and with the other swung a fist blow at his head.

Catching Hammerswell behind the ear, it knacked him
out. Hammerswell rolled over, collapsed and wats motion-
less, after his turn.

Mulloy caught up the rifle, poised it as if he ania t
drive with the barrel at Hammerswell’s head, checked
himself with a jerk, and cast the rifle behind him.

He thought Hammerswell had a revolver or a knife, and
he searched for them, running hastily through his pockets.

 

ere

 

 

Jamming down on —
 

 

ae , NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY.

—f} ~~ Something made Mulloy retain the letter—he thought. he
1 --§} . wanted to look at it later. He thrust the purse back into
_' Hammerswell’s pocket.

“I’m not a thafe,” he growled;
stole ut.” é
He wanted to.tie Hammerswell and take him to Santa
Fe. Having no rope or cord, he stooped and began to pull
at one of Hammerswell’s shoe laces, meaning to remove
it and tie his hands; with the other shoe lace he in-
- tended to supplement the first, adding thus to its strength.

The tug at the shoe laces brought Hammerswell back
_to pennants Ane knock-out was but a momentary one

‘kape yer money—ye

 

 
 

he déove his heels into Mulloy’ S ieee with a force that

seemed to carry the strength of a pile driver.

- Mulloy went over backward,

Instead of seizing this advantage, Hammersweéll, always

a coward, leaped up and started to run. Not ‘even taking

time to regain his rifle, he went down the hillside in deer-
like leaps, that hurled him on with astonishing speed.

~ Before Mulloy could get back his breath, Hammerswell

was a fourth of the way down the hill, dodging behind
bushes as if he expected a shot, and was still bounding
along recklessly.

 “Wurra!” Mulloy groaned, sitting up and blinking. “Is

ut the fool I am, annyhow? Ye'd think ut. I’m th’

brother av the idiot that ‘didn’t know ’twas loaded’! And

now he’s clane gone, and to catch him would take grey-

hounds. I’m going to be ashamed to tell av this.”

His Irish face was a sickly white, and his lips were

blue; cramping pains, shooting through his jolted stomach,

reached to every part of his body. When he tried to stand

he was weak and sick.

“Tt’s dyin’ I am,” he said, “judgin’ be th’ symptoms.

Wan fool less annyhow, av it’s so. ’Tis serving me right.

_ Whin we hand’le rattlesnakes ye’ ve got to luck out f’r thim.

What would Dick Merriwell say if he knew about this?

Well, I’ve got to tell him.”

He sat down again, groaning, after trying to see what

had become of Hammerswell.

Cec Noticing the rifle, he crawled over and took possession

? of it.

4 Mth Remington,” he said,.“and tities carthridges in it yit.

Av he comes back I’ll hand him wan av thim.”

But Hammerswell had no intention of returning.

“Ab-ht I’ve got to sit down again. It’s an alligather

  

  

  

  

  

  

 
 

 
 

  

ee a time he recal ted the letter he had taken from
Hammerswell, and, drawing it out of His pocket, he read it,

 
   

e sat a while, pondering, his reverie broken at last
cig and hearing a horseman riding on the hillside

; “rattlesnakes ar-re

4

CHAPTER VII.

eee AND REALF.

. “Where would you be, if you reported me?
_ put me in a sling, and then I told ne Re had hired me

  
   
      

thought; “he wanted to get a personal revenge, and so he
failed to carry out my orders, after taking my money,
too. He must hate the Merriwells like fire, as he told me
he did, to risk a thing like that; or else he is so big a
coward that he was afraid to come face to face with
Chip. I could understand that, if it was Dick instead of
Chip. Hammerswell, you’re a cur!”

Unfortunately, Realf did not stop to éoneider what he
was himself. He only knew that his own cowardly
scheme had miscarried, and he feared that Chip had won
the cross-country run.

Not finding Hammerswell at or near the point where
he fancied he had been, Realf rode on down the hill,
searching for a mule path, or a trail of some kind that
would take him toward the mine.

While making this search, he saw Hammerswell some
distance off, walking rapidly.

Calling to Hammerswell only startled the rascal, and va
made him hurry; so Realf set off after him at a gallop. ;

“Here,” Realf bellowed, “what’s the’ use of running like
that? I want only to speak to you.”

But Hammerswell, having been so thoroughly frightened
by Mulloy, continued to run. Then Realf gave chase, and
rapidly overhauled him.

      
             
     
 
       
       
     
         
     
 
      
     
     
 

Hammerswell turned at bay as Realf came up at a
clattering gallop. His face changed its expression when
he saw who had pursued him. White fear dropped out of
it, and in its place came a mask of Wah ee ferocity.

“Oh, it’s you?” he said, oF
“Of course! Who did you think it was?”
Realf came up and drew rein.

“Where is your rifle?” he asked. . :

“T haven’t any rifle,” Hammerswell declared.

“But you had—on the hill there; and you shot at Chip
Merriwell; I saw you!”

“That’s a lie!” said Hammerswell, paling again. 5a

“No, it isn’t; I saw you. Why didn’t you do what you
agreed to do? You took my money!”

“He didn’t come by the way I thought he would; I
tried to get over to him, but he went past before I could
do it.” .

“That’s another lie,” said Realf, not realizing, after all,
what manner of man he was dealing with. “You didn’t |
earn that money I gave you, and I want it back. That's”
what I rode after you for?”

“Qh, it is?”

“Sure it is.”

“That is to laugh,”
cackle.

“Well, you just give me back my money—a part of it,
anyway. If you don’t, I’ll expose you. I'll tell the of-
ficers' in Santa Fe that I saw you shoot at Chip Merri- ‘
well.”

It was all so amazing that Hammerswell could hardly
believe his ears,

“That’s a great crack out of the box, ain’t it?
fool-killer is hunting for you, believe me.’

“You won't give me back even a part of that money?”

“What kind of a two-ply idiot do you think I am, any
how? Of course I won’t give yor that money.”

“Then [ll report what I saw.’

“T guess you’re crazy,” Hammerswell said, with a sneer
Suppose it a

 
        
 
 
     
       
 
     
      
   
   
   
     
       

 

    
        
       
     
 
   
    
     
    
     
  

said Hammerswell, and tried to

    
    
 
      
       
 
   

The a

    
      
 
    
 
   
 
 

 
 
 

 
   
NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY.

to do up young Merriwell to keep him from winning the
race? Where'd you be, you brain-baked squealer ?”

He moved toward Realf, and the latter tried to pull his
horse round. He wasn’t quick enough, for Hammerswell
caught it by the bridle with .one hand, while with the
other he jerked Realf out of the saddle. As Realf camé
down, Hammerswell was shaking him.

“T’'ll just take this horse,” he said,
smart, and whatever you’ve got in your pockets.
cough up quick, before I knock your head off.”

He dropped Realf with a jolt, and put back his hand
as if to draw the revolver that was not there.

“T’ll shoot your eyes out,” he cried savagely; ‘
your pockets before I do it!”

The fear that should have come to him before and made
him cautious, fell on Realf now, when he heard these
words and saw the wild rage that burned in Hammerswell’s
eyes.

“Out with it—every cent,” Hammerswell roared; “and
your knife and everything else you’ve got! Why, you——”

He glared and fumed.

Shaking with sudden terror, Realf dumped the contents
of his pockets on the sand—knife, watch, pencil, hand-
kerchief, and a few dollars in money.

Hammerswell scooped up the knife, watch, and money,
and stowed them on his person.

“Now you cut out,” he ordered, “or I'll kick you into
ribbons! I need this horse, and I’m going to take it.
We'll call it an exchange—as [’ve got one somewhere that
you can have in return. Clear out!”

He swung into the saddle, as Realf started off trem-
‘bling; but, not liking the stirrups, he sprang down, and
lengthened them.

When he mounted again, Realf was running wildly. He
was in a fever of fear and rage,/and wondering if he

“could get help at the mine.

“since you're so
Come,

cunts

CHAPTER VIII.
BRAD BUCKHART.

Brad Buckhart on horseback, with Bat Kennedy in run-
ning suit mounted behind his saddle, was coming over
the farther slope of the hill, while Realf pursued and
then overtook Hammerswell. :

“Do you think Chip Merriwell won x trace?” » said
Bat, an evil and jealous look in his eyes, which, of course,
Brad did not see.

“Well, I should warble,” Brad artswered, with great
cheerfulness. “That’s what he went out for.”

“Buckhart had found Bat Kennedy sitting disconsolately
. on a rock in the sun, having given up the run after Chip
swung on by him. It was of no use, he knew, and’ he
looked with scorn on the pluckier runners who plugged
on even after they knew they could not hope,to win. His
dislike of Chip Merriwell, built entirely on jealousy, was
as narrow and vindictive, in a way, as Realfs.

“I’m beat out,” he said, ee Buckhart drew rein and
- questioned him.

“Given it up? . Then see here—supfose you mount behind
me, and I'll take you into Santa Fe. You'll be too late
to hear the cheering, but not too late to congratulate the
winner. I hated like fire to miss seeing this run, but I

 couldn’t help it, for pleasure had to give way to business.

- That’s the trouble with growing up, for so long as you're

a kid, nothing gives way before pleasure, unless it’s eating,
which may be the biggest pleasure at times of all. Well,
h’ist yourself; stick a foot in this stirrup and swing up.”

Brad had missed seeing the run, and had missed going
to the mine, because he had heard of a bunch of cattle for
sale not far away in a valley of a tributary of the Rio
Grande. If the cattle were as represented, they were a
bargain, and he wanted to take a look at them, thinking
he would ship them to his ranch in Texas.
not as represented, and Brad was on his return journey,
grumbling because he had been lured away by false claims.
Yet he tempered his disappointment by remembering that
it is all in the day’s work. «|

Bat Kennedy, mounted behind the saddle, talked of the
tun, as they moved on. He had many and ingenious rea-
sons to show why he had dropped out, when, by all right,
he ought to have been the winner. The chief reason he
gave was that he had not been in condition.

“Something like Chip Merriwell in that, eh?” said ;
Brad, grinning. “If any one oe a tight to feel out. OF 3
condition, he did, it seems to me.’

“Oh, Chip Merriwell!” Bat eee
make me tired.”

Brad laughed.

“Chip did, too, in this race, from the looks of things,”
he commenced. “But we’re not going to quarrel; I can’t
help liking Chip, you know; and I’m an old war-horse
pard of his uncle, and a friend of his dad. Great bunch,
those Merriwells; you hear me warble.”

Bat did not like to hear this kind of warbling, at *
subsided, until he roused up to ask seriously again if
Buckhart believed that Chip had won in the run.

A little later, as they were climbing the hill, they saw 4
Hammerswell sprinting along, pursued and yelled at by \”
Robert Realf. ;

Brad pulled rein ae

“Do you get that?” he said. “Hammerswell and your
friend, young Realf. The little dog chasing thre big one!
And I thought Hammerswell had flown the coop.” X

Buckhart stood up in his, stirrups to see better, anid at
thrust up his freckled face and pugilistic chin as high as
he could, and looked, too. : oe

They were too far off to know what Realf was shout-
ing; but they saw Hammerswell stop and wheel around —
when he was crowded, and they beheld the actions that
followed. .

“The scoundrel has robbed the boy,”
“say, I can’t sit here and see that!”

Pulling his horse round, he flung off in hot pursuit o
Hammerswell, riding downhill at such a pace that Ba
Kennedy, clinging blindly, with his arms round “
waist, expected to be thrown off. ~

Buckhart ocae a sa of an hour or more at he :

“You fettdven

Buckhart howle

horse round; “just waiting time here, sa: We'll go hae
and see what your bosom friend has got to say about Fs a
But when they were on the hill again, they did not
Realf, who, running, had hurried on toward the ee
net Mine in his wild desire to get help. ;
They came up with him before the mine was rea

 

They were
  

Brad took him up behind,

 
  
  

     
  
  
  

 

 
 
   
   
  

after asking questions,
ng, oF pushed 6n -with his overburdenéd horse. ‘Realf’s answers
ell, a a were evasive and unsatisfactory,:-and Brad knew it. He
t) a he claimed: that he -had -been- lost, had. followed Hammerswell
ing - torget directions, and then Hammerswell had taken -his
for ° Ui) >. herse.
Rio i _. “Lies come easy to a born liar,” -Brad thovelit. Aend he
2 a nt - wondered-what-really had taken. place.
ing. |» When they approached the mine, they came upon Barney
ere. tae me Mulloy, who was. Walking.
ley, _. “Ar-tht.. It's you?” he cried, facing round when he
ms. heard them coming... Then he added: “I was hopin’ ’twas
hat that scut, Hammerswell.”
“He’s been robbing you, too?” Brad howled.
the “Aye, robbin’? me av me good opinion ay mesilf. I
ea- tought. I. was a man, d’ye see; now I know-I’m a. fool.
sht, I had him, an’ thin I didn’t. Three t’ carry!” he said, look-
he _ ing along the horse’s back; “ut makes me t'ink av an ould
. arithmetic lesson.”
Aidt:  Realf.was staring at the Remington that Mulloy held.
“0t ; “Where did you get that?” he asked.
“ "Mulloy looked at him keenly.

. “Arr-rh!” he growled. “Would ye give it to him to

IWS i949 F
Maat at Chip, I wonder? I w’u’dn’t put ut past ye, and
that’s plane spache !”

5,” “Too, plain,” said Brad ; “you'd do well to say what
ark _ you mean, and explain what you say. Still, I’m your
\oue aa you know, Mulloy.”
Ke “Dade I’m knowin’ ‘ut, and a dale more, which at th’

  

proper time I'll projuce to yez. I’m too quick.”

“TY picked up Realf on the other side of the hill, after
-Hammerswell had robbed him of his horse.”

os “D’ye say it now? Robbed him! Th’ thafe that he is.
He did worse be Chip—he tried to kill him, and I’m a
witness to ut; he fired-an him wid this rifle. FE got to him
as quick as I cu’d, and wint at his t’roat, after I’d
knocked him out wid a stone. I had him. Thin I played
the fool, showin’ me what I am, d’ye see. I tought he
was clare knocked out, whin—Whoosh!—he -lifted me in
h’ stoomach wid his halées and sint me over loik a top. I’ve
got his war map on me stoomach this minute, d’ye mind!
‘Sure, I-was wan’ fool to-let him desave me, Ye'ré tn to
th’ mine, I take ut?”

dos they reached the buildings Stoves the mine, Dick

  
 

and
<a

  
  
    
 

saw

   
  
  
   
 
  

four
ne!

Bat

1 as

  
  
  
    
 
 
 

out-
und
that

  
 
 

  

Pee ieie this, theré were enibddation Jolie. some of
which did not explain, but were given to conceal. » Robert
Realf lied volubly to his father. However, in telling about
Rhoda, he was careful not to charge that Chip Merriwell
had. set in motion the stone that struck her horse; that
would not: be a safe thing to do, he feared, with Dick
Merriwell hearing him. He meant to tell his father about
that later, in strict privacy. Now he claimed that he did
not know how the stone was ‘started,

rom all the ngs Dick Merriwell gathered t the veatic

  

 
 

 
 
  
   
   
 

 

  

nysical condition:
Riel Realf: was. very anxious now to hurry back to-
nta et having been ey anxious by meres a AevTaN

  

py NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY.

 

and

country tun’ made them sore.

_ he'd known it was there.

 

scared, or ‘is put out a little.
before she got back to her party.”

“Fisher-would be likely to know if she was. all right or
not,” said Dick; “trust Fisher for that.”

“Oh, Fisher is a wonder,” Robert..sneered,. hoping his
father would think his words were genuine praise.

The elder Realf was not a fool.

“That will do, Robert,’ he. said sharply.
getting yourself!”

It would. have been a good thing if Robert. Reaif really
could have forgotten himself once in a while; there.was
not much likelihood that he ever would. i

There were horses enough now; Dick and Realf had
horses at the mine, and Barney Mulloy had left his there.

Dick took young Realf up behind him; and, with Bat
Kennedy still mounted behind Buckhart, the return journey
to Santa Fe was begun.

As they set out, Barney Mulloy remarked -to Dick in
an aside:

“l’ye something to say to yez, Merriwell, whin the “op-

porchunity comes round.”

ane was all right long

“You're for-

CHAPTER IX.
WHIPPING A BULLY.
Some very singular traits of human nature are to be
noticed by all who are observant. One is, that the fellow
who tries to injure another hates him all the more when
he fails; the one who is injured may be forgiving, the one
who unjustly injures him or tries to do so, seldom is.
In every company of young fellows there is nearly al-

ways a mean-spirited bully, who, having little or no worthi-.

ness in himself, hates every one who has; a fellow whose
aspirations are wholly physical, who believes in bruiser

methods. In about every case he is also a coward. He pre-_
fers to pick his quarrels with some one he thinks he can.

whip; and he thinks, if he can do it, that he is exhibiting
manliness, when he is only exhibiting his meanness.

The two classes outlined above had come together in

the persons of Robert Realf and Bat Kennedy. Realf’s
was the narrow spirit that hates arid tries to injure who-
ever he fails to like; Kennedy was the bully and bruiser,
who, because he cannot. mount in any other way, thinks
to mount by knocking his opponent down and trampling
on him.

The knowledge that Chip Merriwell had won the cross-
Realf was more sore about
it even than Kennedy. He had staked more and had lost
more,

They were talking it over after dark that evening, trying

to find consolation, seeming to feel that even the Fates
had been in a conspiracy against them.

“That scoundrel, Hammerswell, not only took my tioelit
but he took all the money I had, except five dollars that
was in my vest pocket; he’d have taken that, the thief, if
The officers are chasing him
now, but they'll never get him.”

Kennedy's eyes widened.

“Five dollars!” he said, for to him it seemed a ‘big
sum.

“Piffle! What's de dollars? You must be in the cheap.
class, to think five dollars is anything.”

“It-lodks goods to me,” said Kennedy.

“What troubles me is that I

: 5

ll not be able to pal any,

  
    

        
    
    

4

        
 
      
     
 
    
   
      
NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY.

more out of father for some time; he told me that last
roll would have to do me for some time; and he isn’t
going to feel better by being made to pay for that horse,
too,”

They talked on for a while, grumbling.

“Here comes Chip Merriwell up the street now, with
Fisher,” said Kennedy; “give me that five dollars, and I'll
knock his block off for you. I’d like to do it, anyway.
As for the singed cat with him, I could handle him with
both hands tied.”

They were standing together in the mouth of an alley.
Realf peered out and saw the young fellows approaching.

“And get yourself pulled,” he said, sudden eagerness in
his voice.

“That V would help to pay my fine, all right, if I did;
but there’s no danger. The police never hang round here;
they’re up at the plaza, and the people are up there. What
do you say about that fiver?”

Realf fingered it out of his vest pocket.

“It leaves me broke; but I’ll screw more out of dad
somehow. It’s yours,
good, just as soon as I get more money

“You'll take care of Fisher?”

“They’re nearly here,”
ignoring this; “land him one when he comes along here,
then fight it out in the alley, or in the lot behind this
building. You can whip two like-him, Kennedy. You're
bigger than he is, and I know you're a better fighter; I
can tell it-just by the look of you; you’ve got muscles, and
a fist like iron. I'd hate to have you hit me once.”

Kennedy’s pride and boastfulness were inflated.

“I'd hate to hit you—I might kill you; and [’'m your
friend,” he said, sinking the money into a convenient
pocket. “Just call him in here—say you want a word
with him.” :

Chip Merriwell turned into the alley when he heard his
name called, with Fisher behind him.

“Oh, it’s you!” he said, seeing Realf, and stopping.

“Me, you'mean,” cried Kennedy, bouncing forward.

Chip seemed to want to retreat.

“T didn’t know you were in here—didn’t recognize you;
both of you, I mean.”

“Oh, you didn’t?”: /

“That’s what I said.”

“Come along a little farther into the alley,”
utged. “I want to see you!”

He thrust out his bullet head, with his heavy chin pro-
truding.

“But I don’t care to see you,” Chip urged.

He saw that Kennedy wanted a fight, and he desired
to keep out of it. Unfortunately, this very evident desire
made the bully sure that Chip was afraid of him, and
it fanned his desire to “beat up” the fellow he disliked.
tip > Vt answer, therefore, was a swing at Chip’s face with
his big fist. Chip evaded it, and laughed
“Look out for the other fellow,” said Kennedy, his
voice rising, as once more, he lifted his fist; “smash his
, window lights in, and you’ ve got him,”

Chip evaded again, and put his back against the wall.
-Fisher, bewildered by the unexpected attack, came up by

Soak him!”

Kennedy

: ss him. But Realf had not tried to assault Fisher.

; Chip laughed again. It was the ‘old Merriwell laugh,
révealing the quick rising of the safety valve, and was a
| warning to whoever had heard it. Kennedy had never

and another five if. you do him |

said Realf, looking out again and’

heard it, He came up prancing, then crouched as if hé
meant to jump in like a gorilla.

“See here,” said Chip, “can’t you see that I don’t wae
to fight you? I don’t intend to, unless you force it.”

Kennedy leaped, striking as he ‘came.
up and, swept the blow aside.

“You've got to havé a fight, eh?” said Chip.
remember that I don’t want it. ‘We'd better get in the open
lot back here.”

Kennedy, about to swing again, adel at those men
Did Chip mean that he would fight? -It was unbelievable.

“Oh, you wouldn’t fight a sick kitten!” he sneered.
“Tl be fighting one in just a minute. Get into the lot
back there! When I’m through with you-—”

Chip’s arm swung

“Well, just

“Do you mean it?” Kennedy squealed, pretending that he '

was still doubting. “Come on into the lot, then.
out for the other slob, Realf,’ he said, as he retreated.

Fisher had said nothing; he didn’t believe in fighting

anything but disease and germs and broken bones. But:

when they were in the lot, and Chip stripped off his coat,

Fisher caught it and held it for him.: !

Doc Fisher had courage and a good deal of wisdom.
This wisdom told him that Bat Kennedy was, for some
reason, determined to drive Chip Merriwell into a fight, '
and it could not be avoided; and that fighting under such
circumstances was a thing that might even be commended.
He had no doubt of Chip. In addition, he had discovered
that with Chip Merriwell there was an exploding point.

Chip could be patient and even long-suffering up to a

certain pitch; when that was reached, something. always
broke, and it was not Chip. Chip’s queer high laugh as-
sured him that the point had been reached, or soon. would
be reached.

Chip laughed again, as .Fisher sea his coat ; and. be-
gan to slip up his sleeves,

Kennedy, with ostentation,
flung it to Realf.

“Just hold it,” he begged, “while I eedtaks isn: when
I’m through, his uncle and friends will be. ready to drive
him out of his hotel, because they won't know. him.”

stripped off hia. coat and

- Look —

ot

eo!

Without waiting for any one to give the word, he

jumped at Chip, and swung a blow that caught: him in
stinging fashion on the cheek. Then he swung again
thinking to knock Chip down before he could recover.

Chip retreated like a flash. Kennedy followed him, and
swung again. Something happened just then that sur-

prised the bully.. His fist was flung: upward.. Chip’s lifted r

it, sliding under it, and delivered a slashing blow, .

The New Mexican stars were bright; they held full _

sway in that lot back of the building, away from the
glare of the street lamps, and they gave enough light for
Fisher and Realf to see what took place, though it seemed
to have been done so easily that it. was bewildering,
Chip Merriwell’s firm fist, hard as nails, had reached
for the point of Kennedy’s outthrust pugilistic chin, and
smashed into it witha lifting motion that apparently
hoisted the bully off. his feet. He flung upward with

‘convulsive jerk and fell ‘backward heavily.

The ground was soft, so that the fall of itself was not
serious, and as he had a bull neck and’a bulldog head, t

heavy blow jarred him for no more than-a moment.

But as he lay there, staring blindly at the stars, feel

that both jaw and neck were broken, a dull rage burn

 
NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY. | 17

through him, making him a much more dangerous an-
tagonist than he had been.

He had hoped to put Chip Merriwell down and out
without difficulty, and now had discovered that Chip was
not only not a coward, but was a fighter; and if Chip
whipped him—— .

It could never be! His rage grew; it consumed him
as a mad passion. Unsteadily he began to get on his feet.
For a moment or two he stood wabbling, while he glared
at Chip; glared as an aroused tiger might glare.
he. moved forward.

“Keep off!” Chip warned.
you, buf——”

A roar was the answer. Kennedy lunged, with his head
down, striking; hoping to hurl Chip backward, then tried
to get his arms round him in a bearlike hug. His mood
was murderous.

Chip danced away, and Kennedy followed him.

_ “Stand up, you coward, till I can get at you!” Ken-
nedy yelled, almost sobbing; i

“I still don’t want to fight

“stand up!

As again and again he dived at Chip, trying in vain
to reach him, his breath made a yehtatiing oe as it came
pase lips and nostrils.

“T’ll smash you!’ he yelled, mauling with his hammerlike
fist. ok

But Chip was not there, and the fury of the blow
nearly threw Kennedy from his feet.

Chip came in, seeing that the thing must be done, and
it was well to do it quickly.

“That’s what counts!” shouted Fisher, unable to control
himself longer. “Another one like it, and he is done
Oto”

It came again, as Kennedy rushed. Chip, retreating,
jumped back and swung. This time it fell on the point
of the chin like the blow of a sledge hammer.

Kennedy lifted, pitched over backward with a jerking
twist, and lay still’'when he hit the sand.

Fisher wanted to yell; he knew the fight was over, that
- ‘the bully had been knocked out. Realf was staring blindly,
having witnessed what to him had been the impossible.
All through the short fight he had not satd a word or lifted
- a finger to aid Kennedy, nor to attack Fisher. He, too,
knew the thing was over.

Suddenly Doc: Fisher’s professional instincts swept him
forward. He pulled out his pocket medicine case, and
knelt at Kennedy’s side. There was no need for alarm, he
discovered. Kennedy's ‘head was hard;. and, though
knocked out, he would come out of it shortly. But he
would. not want to fight again; at least, he would not want
to fight Chip Merriwell again.

Fearing that Chip might turn on him now; that Ken-
oH nedy, recovering, might reveal his part in the Seeaid Realf
tossed Kennedy’ s coat down and hurried into the alley.

“The bluffer,” he was panting, thinking of Kennedy; “he
couldn’t fight mosquitoes.”

/

CHAPTER X.
4 HOW MULLOY LOST HIS JoB.

ke Robert Realf came out of the alley, stumbling along
in the-blindness of his disappointment and rage, a heavy
_ hand fell. heavily on his collar and spun him round.

_. “Arrah!” a voice cried.. “I’ve been luckin’ f’r yez, and
_ here ye ar-re. Walk forninst me now, up th’ strate.”

‘

Slowly

“Take your hand off my collar, Mulloy, or I’ll call the
police,” said Realf.

“Ar-rh! Ye will—not. Or av ye do, I’ve a few things to
tell thim that will make ye sit up an’ take notice. If
ye do be thinkin’ har-rd, ye’ll recall thot I was out an
that hill be the Blue Bonnet Mine th’ day. I have Ham-
merswell’s rifle to prove it, and another thing that ye’ll
foind amazin inth’resting. Mairch along now.”

“Where do you want me to go?”

“To yere hotel. Yez were on yere way there, anny-
how, I take ut. Ill joost be. bearin’ ye company. ’Tis
dar-rk in that alley, and the rats might bite ye. Ye ain't
afraid av annything, ye scut; not aven av doin’ a mane-
ness. Forninst me ye go, to yere hotel.”

“That’s none of your business.”

“Ye'’re right, it isn’t. So I’ll attind to what is me busi-
ness. Forninst me ye go, to yere hotel.’

“What-do you want with me?” Realf demanded.

“Ah-h! , Don’t talk! Walk along wid ye.”

He linked his arm in Realf’s, and moved on with him,

despite Realf’s pretests. When they came to Realf’s hotel,
Mulloy turned in ata private stairway.
‘“Th’ best hotel in Santy Fay and the best suite in it,
wid so manny baths that ’tis aisier t’ drown yereself than t’
be dirthy, yit th’ dirthiest b’y in Santy Fay is livin’ here;
whin we git upstairs I’ll let ye see him in th’ luckin’-
glass.”

Pushing Realf ahead of him, Barney Mulloy mounted
to the rooms occupied by Realf’s father.

“You're going to tell lies on me,” said Realf;
go in there.”

“Oh, ye won’t! In wid ye. Whurroo!”

Hearing the confusion, Ruel Realf came to the door
of the room he was then in. A push from Mulloy sent
Robert headlong into it. Mulloy followed him. Ruel
turned round slowly, and closed the door. He knew that
Robert had been in trouble of some kind. It. was not
the first time. Yet he was angered at Mulloy. —

“What is the matter?” he demanded.

“’Tis a case of ‘Where is me wandering b’y to-night?’
Only ’twas in th’ daytime. Ye’ll be inth’rested in th’ story,
Mr, Realf.”

“This is rather presuming, don’t. you think, “Mulloy?”
said Ruel coldly. “Just because you have entered my em-
ployment doesn’t justify you——”

“T won't

“Yere imployment, is ut? I knew it would be that way.
’Tis good pay, and I nade ut. But ye’ve me risignation
now. Whin I’m through, ye’ll be wantin’ t’ kick me out. |
Befure ye go that far, though, I’d ask ye to rade the let-
ther I have in me fist.” ;

He held out*the euiled letter he had taken from Ham-
merswell. {

Robert was raising his voice in protestations.

“We can’t all be talkin’ at wanst,” said Mulloy.

“But you're telling lies about me!”

“IT haven’t towld annything about yez; I’m goin’ to let
yere own letther spake. Whin it’s through, maybe ye can
ixplain ut, and claim that ye didn’t mane-ut, and, anny-
how, black is white and a yellow coward is a gintleman.
Will ye rade the letther that has been written to ‘Ham-
merswell be yere dutiful son?”

Mulloy handed the letter to Ruel.

“Tf there’s anything aboug me there, it’s a lie,” said
Robert. “Are you going to see me treated this way by
a low Irish mucker ?” ;

 
98

Ruel Realf took the ‘letter.
with Hammerswell, the jailbird, who was even then, being
pursued by officers, was ominous in its suggestion. He
had believed that his son’s faults and peccadilloes were not’
serious, were no more than the bubbling overflow of high-
spirited youth; but this hinted at a criminal connection.
His face had paled and his trembling fingers rustled the
soiled letter.

This is what he was reading:

“Mr. HAMMERSWELL* That chance talk I had with you
has set me to thinking. You hate the Merriwells, and so
do I. Now, the fellows here have forced Chip Merriwell
to enter a ¢ross-country run which is to be pttlled off to-
morrow, and Chip’s friends think he can win it. It would
please him too much. I inclose a map of the route, and
two fifty-dollar bills, which I know will be acceptable, from
- what you said. I’m risking this money, see? But to-mor-
row, if you're game, meet me back of the doby wall -be-
yond the town, where the run is to begin, and V’ll give you
another hundred dollars; all the money I can spare right
now. That is, if you’ve got the nerve to go ottt into the
hills by the Blue Bonnet Mine, and hide there, and, when
Chip Mertiwell comes aforig on the run, beat him up so
that he can’t possibly win it. You want to get out of the
country, you said, and would if you had the money ; well,
there is another hundred dollars for you, if you've got the /
nerve to éarn’it in this way. Burn this letter. If father
should drop to this, I'don’t know what he would do; but
_I know he would pull his purse string so tight that fot

six months I wouldn't ever have cigarette. money. So
i burn it! ROBERT REALY.”

Roel Realf’s trembling had increased, and his face had
become a pasty white.

“Just where did you get this?” he said, addressing Mul-
loy, not even looking at his son.
Mulloy hesitated. He had no sorrow for Robert Realf,
_ but he had sorrow for Robert’s father. Yet he saw that
he must go ahead. Pom

“Toost this way. 1 was an tap av the hill out be the

mine, ye know, and T saw that.rascal, Hammerswell, shoot-
ing wid that rifle at Chip Merriwell, as Chip kem by on
his run... Thin I shtipt. up. on Hamerswell an’ captured
him; though’ he got away from me. ’Twas thin that 1
Dlabook that letther out av his clothes, d’ye moind. Thinks
I to mesilf, this is for the eyes of no wan but th’ b’y’s
_ father; though I did intind to let Dick Merriwell have a
luck at ut.”
“But you didn’t?”
_ “T mint to do ut”

“But you didn’t?”

letter to anybody.”
Not to Haeinaciuct said his father:
“Certainly not; let me see that letter!”
“Bat I know your handwriting, Robert.”
“f tell you I wrote no Hatter’ ‘that must be a forgery. Let
see it.”
| was not passed over: nig
“I'm obliged to you, Mulloy,” said Ruel huskily, as if
is throat had burned dry; ‘ wo A right in bringing it to
I'll have a settlement with Robert. But you'll see

The eonnection of his.son °

NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY.

that after this it will be impossible for me to complete
the arrangements. we had temporarily: made—and take you
on as. manager of that mine.” .

“That’s all right,” said Mulloy; “I was ixpictin’ it. I
counted oop th’. cost befure I. set out todo this. -I’m
nadin’ the money, but there ar-re things in this worruld
that money can’t buy. Maybe ye'll be understhandin’® me.
But no matther. I had to do me juty. There’s manny
mines and manny places, and the worruld’s big. *Twouldn’t
be agreeable now to be worrukin’ f’r yez, with yere son
comin’ round; he’d be throwin’ a knife :into- the. cogs ay
me machinery some day.”

“That will do,” Ruel said sourly;
this letter, not to slander my son.
deal with him.’

“Sure it’s me hope that ye will.”

“How much do I owe you for this?” said “Ruel, as if,
like his son,’ he thought every obligation could be dis-
charged by a money payment.

“you came to’ deliver
I will know how to

Mulloy stood looking at him in amazement.

“Out with it,” said Realf; “of course you expected pay-
metit for this! How much is it?”

“Tf I hadn’t come with th’ letther to you, Pa? beer
compelled to take ut to the police,” said Mulloy, bewil-
dered, and with growing indignation. a

“T can see that you might think so, atid for that you
mean to ask a higher payment; but name it.”

“Mr. Realf, will yez hear me?”

“I’ve been hearing you.”

“Throw him out of the room,
me and is lying and——” |

“Will you keep silence, Robert?” the elder Realf. com-

manded. ;

He turned again to Mulloy. .
“Name your price for this—this letter,” he said;
do not make it too big, I’! pay it: And I’ll take Robert
away from here.”

“Ye'll be hearing me, Mr. Realf?”

“Go on,” said Realf coldly; “but remember, if you tty
to make your charge exorbitant, I'l] not meet it.”
“Mr Realf! Tis nota cint av yere money Yim. hickin’
f’r, and not wan cint wud I take; remimber it.
money-maker—in that way. Whin I kem here I knew well

*” said Robert. om hates

I wti'd losé mé job, which I riaded. “So I hesitated; though

I tought I'd take th ‘letther to

ye may tiot bel’ave ut. |
“Thin, T

Dick ‘Merriwell, and ask him what should I do.
didn’t.
And 1 didn’t intend to be shrieakin’ about ut; so I wanted
yere b’y to be with mé whin I kem. “Twas be chance I
found him, comin’ out av an alley——” hy
Realf glanced at Robert, who sat crouched ina chair,
“Do you know why I was in that alley?” said Robert, —
“T went in there to help a friend of mine who: had been —

attacked by Chip Merriwell—Chip was hammering him

just for nothing; and I was’ hurrying out, thinking to get we
help, when you collared me and made me come up hetes'

“’Tis news,” said Mulloy, with a doubting sniff.

“Tt’s true, all right) Atid as for. that letter, I never
wrote it; I think you had it written, and: brought it here
just to damage me; for all of you dislike and hate: me:.
Oh, you belong to’ a sweet crowd! And you've lost :you
job! Serves you right for butting in where you don’t be:
long. It serves you right, yow sneak!” ;

“Robert!” his father warned,

,

 

“6f vie 4

I’m fot Set

It seemed betther that I should bring it to you.
NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY.

“Well, it does; he’s a sneak and a coward! That’s what
he is. As for getting out of this old town, I’ll be glad to;
it’s a hole. And be sure you send Rhoda away, too. She’s
smashed on Chip Merriwell, and is making a regular goose
of herself ; she’s——”

“Robert !”

“Well, I know what I’m talking about.”

“Enough of that, Robert. Can’t you see that you're dis-
gracing yourself as well as your sister? This man will
repeat your conversation——”

“Not me,” said Mulloy; “no, indade. What th’ young
felly says may be thrue; yet ’tis more likely he’s lying.
Thruth comes hard wid the loikes av him.”

He turned toward the door.

“You don’t want anything for this—service?” said Ruel
Realf, not yet able to believe it. “f see that you could
have made trouble. And you may need money. You'll
see how unpleasant it would be if I kept you on as mine
manager now. So I’m willing to pay something, anything
reasonable.”

“Don’t pay him a cent!” said Robert.
a sneaking coward.”

“He’s a liar and

Mulloy paused, ‘with his hand on the knob of the door.
He was having a struggle with his naturally hot -temper.
He wanted to say to Ruel Realf that he felt reasonably
sure Robert had sent down the stone which had so nar-
rowly missed injuring Rhoda seriously, and had done it
trying to strike Chip. Yet Mulloy’s belief of this was not
positive.

His hand turned the knob of the door.

“I’m biddin’ ye good avenin’,” he said to Ruel.
yere money, ’tis not me that could take ut.”

“As f’r

CHAPTER XI.
CONCLUSION.

Chip Merriwell, thinking he could say only the briefest
words of farewell to pretty Rhoda Realf, found himself
lingering and saying a good many, all very much alike.

They were in the ladies’ reception room of the big
_ Santa Fe hotel where the Realfs were stopping while in
the ancient city. The only objectionable thing about this

was that there were other people in the room. Hence,

Rhoda and Chip had to put their heads very close together,
_and speak in low tones, while Chip let her read the letter he
_had received from his father a number of days before, and

they tried to express their regrets at this rude separation,

when it seemed they had known each other only a few
hours.

Ruel Realf had servants packing his effects at that very
time, and it would not be long before Rhoda would be
_-speeding over the main line of the Santa Fe Railway,
accompanied by her father and brother.

“T know just where you're to be,” said Chip, “and if I
should ever happen to be there, I think I could go right
to the street, and almost to the house, and without asking
a question or looking at a number ; for I’ve been in that old

college town more than once: Brattle Street, Cambridge,
_ Massachusetts, United States of America; I think I’ll put

that all on, with the number, when I write to you. . And

if I shold go back to Fardale along in the winter——

_ Their smiling eyes met.

“To. be sure; it isn’t so far. That would be fine.”
Rhoda's blue eyes fell, and she fussed with the letter;

this fall.

then read the body of it again, for want of something

- else to do:

“This letter follows promptly the telegram I sent to
Uncle Dick on the same subject. Your mother and I have
finally threshed the question out to our mutual satisfac-
tion. So the, decision, as the telegram said, and as previ-
ous letters hinted it probably would be, is for you to re-
main in the Southwest a while longer. I have taken up
with. Uncle Dick the matter of employing Fisher to tutor
you, and Uncle Dick thinks well of it; he says that Fisher
is well qualified for the work, is better educated now than
half the men who graduate from colleges, and he has, in
addition. a wonderful stock of general information. Fisher
is willing to undertake it, and is rather enthusiastic about
it. But, of course, you have been told this by Uncle Dick,
and may know more about it than we do here.

“At first, we thought of having you go back to Fardale
You didn’t seem to care for it, probably be-
cause you recalled what I said to you, that the experiences
you have been having down here in the West and South-
west are giving you something you cannot get in any
school; that life itself is something that needs to be
learned. as well as books. And you have been having a
live-wire contact with life itself. You can go on having it,
and under a capable tutor you can also keep up the Far-
dale work, so that, if later, even this winter, we should
reach the conclusion that you ought to be in Fardale
rather than here, it can be arranged.

“We think it may be wise to get another tutor here
after a time, or supplement Fisher’s work. Or Fisher
might tire of it, though Uncle Dick thinks not. All that
calls for a later decision. You’re to begin work now with
Fisher. Your mother thinks as I do in this, though at
first she wished you back in Fardale, because it would put
you nearer her.”

There was more, but this was the important part.
“If you hadn’t said you preferred to remain down here; —

your father would have sent you back there,” said Rhoda. —

“Well, you see——”

Chip hesitated and stopped.

“T think it’s too bad.”

“T do now; but you see, when-—when I wrote that to
father—I hadn’t met you.”

Rhoda colored and laughed.

“If I thought you meant that—=”

*t to.”

“You would have begged to go back to Fardale?”

“I would. But now—— Yet since your father has
bought that mine——”

“But you won't be here in Santa Fe.”

“T think I shall, more or less. I heard Uncle Dick as
that he was thinking of taking over all the business of ©
this part of the country, and make Santa Fe his head-
quarters. You understand why that is, of course.”
laughed. “Tf you don’t, I can explain it. June Arlington :
has a very warm friend here who has an awfully nice and
cozy home, and June is going to like to come here. Now,
if you can’t see through that, and understand why Uncle
Dick thinks that Santa Fe would be the finest place ever
for his headquarters, you’re not as smart as I think ym
are.” *

“Isn’t that funny!” said Rhoda. 4

“Perhaps so. I was thinking about it in another way
You see,-if Uncle Dick should do that, reasons oe be :

 

Chip —
“NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY.

found—I’d find them—making it necessary or desirable
that I should be with him now and then here; and if your
father was down here on account of his mine, and you
could come here with him 3

“What a planner you are! It would be nice, wouldn’t it?
Still——”

“Anything in the way of that?”

“Robert, you know,” she said, frowning; “perhaps I
oughtn’t say it. But Robert doesn’t like you. I’m awfully
sorry about that. He has been talking with father. Dear
me, what a time they had in father’s room the other
evening; it was on the day of your cross-country run!
I don’t know what happened between Robert and father ;
but afterward Robert said to me that I was not to be
permitted to come down here any more.”

“Oh, that would be a shame,’ Chip could not help de-
claring. “But he would not have control of your move-
ments.”

_ “But he can influence father.”

Chip looked ruefully at the carpet.

“Say,” he remarked, and his face brightened humor-
ously, “I'll just burn this letter, claim that I never re-
_ ceived it, and start back for Fardale, taking the same train
that you do.”

“What about your Uncle Dick?”

“T’ll give him poison!”
_ Chip looked so serious and lugubrious as he said it that
_ Rhoda had to laugh.

_ “Then he couldn’t establish any headquarters here,
said, “and you wouldn’t be here if I did come down.
‘how you'd spoil things for both of us.”

“T'll spare him,” said Chip.

A minute later he was in a serious mood.

“Pd like you to promise one thing,” he urged; “that

is, if you hear any derogatory stories about me you won't

believe them.”

_ “That sounds like a confession of guilt,” she said lightly,
though she knew that he was thinking of her brother’s

-énmity; “what kind of stories?”

“T can’t say, of course.”

_ Robert interrupted by appearing in one of the doors and
announcing that she was wanted by her father. He stared
past Chip as if he did not see him. Then he turned and
went out.

“Oh, dear; I suppose I’ve got to go,” she said, rising.
“Will you be at the station when our train goes in the
morning ?” ;

They went ‘out into the corridor together, a broad and
well-lighted ‘place, where people were passing. Chip's face
was flooded with color. :
_ “Yes, I'll be there,” he promised.

- He caught her hand and stood looking into her eyes.
_ “Good-by,” she said., 5

“IT want your picture; you'll send it to me? The best

photograph. you have.” —
_ “I haven’t had yours yet,” she reminded. '
“Ti send it. et rl bring it down to the station

” she
See

‘

\
/

Good-by he
p tutned along the corridor as she tripped away.
e descending the stairs or turning to the’ elevators,
her meanrenring Beene a geri A

,

It was a better picture than any she could send him,

and Chip knew he would treasure it.,

Swinging about, he went slowly down to the street,
hardly knowing where he was going, seeing only Rhoda
as she had looked when passing from his sight.

THE END.

“Frank Merriwell, Junior’s, Hunting Trip; or, The Mys-
tery of the Mad Trooper, is the title of the story that
you will find in the next issue of this weekly, No. 116; out
October 17th. The story is a little different from the
regular Merriwell narrative, but you will like it none the
less for this reason.

Bob Storm on the Bridge.
By Ensign Lee Tempest, U. S. A. 4

(This interesting story was commenced in No. 113 of the NEw Tip —
Top WEEKLY. Back numbers can be obtained from your news —
dealer or the publishers.)

CHAPTER XIV.
BETRAYED.

Night had closed down over the little island hidden
among the fastnesses of canebrakes and morasses, when a.
long, lean steamer slipped, like a venomous water moc-
casin, out of her secret harbor, and threaded, through the —
blackness, the tortuous channels of the Everglades.

On the deck of the Jean Lafitte, erstwhile Brazilian tor- 4

pedo-boat destroyer, now embarked on her maiden smug-_
gling yoyage, stood as queer a crew as could be found —
in all the Seven Seas. At least one hundred of them, and_
all were cutthroats from the look of their blunt, hard
features and the barbarity of their garb.

Crowded within the narrow confines of the: Bridge v were i,
seven men. One was a man so tall and big in every way —
that he towered over the others as though they were un- |
dersized, though three of them were six-footers.

One of these stalwart men was Big Martinique, a negro

of a-coal-black ‘cast, who knew the gulf waters as an al- ”

ligator does its creek. He held the wheel as pilot and: ‘

quartermaster.

Another was a tall, slight chap in a white uniform, He
stood directly behind Big Martinique, and beside the tows
ering Roc, re

And behind Storm stood four men in a close group, each
with a pistol in his hand.

_ Bob knew they were there, and why they were taeip i
It. was a grim and menacing warning as to what fateis
awaited him should he fail to do the will of the Maestro.
One armed man would have been enough had Roc not 2
wanted to make the warning plain and spectacular.

“Since the crucial moment when Roc had spoken his wi
Bob had been made to do many things. First, und
guard, he had been escorted to the- secret harbor amon
the canes. There, under compulsion, he had selected é
few of his men for the crew. And then he had been put 3
aboard the Jean Lafitte, and told to give the word tha
vey send her on her first smuggling critise.

 
NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY.

weather outside. Not only was the tropic night ominously

dark, instead. of silver and purple, but a cyclonic wind

was up that blew the waters into huge, running waves,

- among which the little destroyer tossed and rocked to its

- scuppers.

But despite the seas running, Roc wanted more speed.

_ So Bob gave the command to the engine room that sent

_ the trim little steamer ahead at eighteen knots, instead of

~ fifteen,

_ Bob took the wheel from the huge negro, and sent her

up into the wind to buck the seas in the right manner

without swinging the ship out of her course or losing
ground.

The greater number of the smugglers went below, but
Storm had the life lines set, which was done by a picked
few of his own crew under the pistols of the pirates.

After that, as the little Jean Lafitte penetrated farther
into the open sweep of the gulf, the wind and seas raged,
and the destroyer tossed so that two of the squad guard-
ing Bob had to get off the bridge and go below, leaving
the remaining two with their hands full i in merely trying
to hold on:

Now, for all his insecure position on the pitching bridge
—which seesawed at every sea like a walking beam—and
the double responsibility of guiding the little craft through
‘the storm, Bob ‘found opportunity to cast his mind over
his predicament.

_ Here he was, against his will, in command of a ship

which was outfitted for the illicit purpose of smuggling.

How could he prevent himself from being a smuggler,

or, at best, the unwilling tool of these smugglers? And

ow could he defeat the criminal schemes of this band,
whom he much suspected of harboring notions of des-
perate piracy?
~ He was all alone in the fight. He had not seen Ralph

Stafford or Doctor Murray, and he could not get into com-

munication with his men. What could he do, tiga Bob

1 not know.

Just then Roc appeared on the bridge Shc below, where
had gone a moment before on some unknown errand.

“Make for the Dry Tortugas, captain,” he ordered.

here are a few supplies there for New Orleans. And

, how do you like the poseetion of captain, mon-
eur?”

| “Well enough, but I can’t stomach the work.”

“You may have to do worse!” Bob heard the big Maestro
mutter, as he turned away.

Ot set Storm to do some fast thinking. Was this cruise
ng made under the guise of smuggling, but really for
me blacker purpose, like piracy? The Dry Tortugas
| formerly been, Bob knew, the rendezvous of pirates.

sudden idea, like a flash of light! Key West, with
mall United States naval base, was not more than fifty

les on 4 line east from and farther away than the Dry
ortugas. Well, Storm determined, all unbeknown to
oc, to run the Jean Lafitte past that ancient rendezvous

rates and into Key West and Uncle Sam’s jurisdic-

. What’s wrong? Where is the beacon?

edly that his guards never fathomed what he was about,
he inched the wheel over and down.

Without a single quiver through its shell-like frame—
so carefully was the maneuver executed—the little de-
stroyer’s nose veered through the stupendous rapids to
port, ever to port. Once the lighted ‘compass showed
that they were on a diagonal line with Key West, Bob
breathed a trifle more easily, and held the wheel steady.

Now it struck the young ensign that that extra fifty
miles must not eat up so much time as to attract the
Maestro’s attention, and raise his suspicions over the delay
in reaching their destination.

A signal on the engine-room telegraph, added exertion
by the men of his own crew, sweating there under the
pistols of the pirates, and the little craft sped ahead like
a racing motor boat, plunging down and topping the
heavy swells at twenty-five knots speed—almost the limit
notch of its speed power.

Her low decks continually awash, the seas beating even
against the protected bridge, the Jean Lafitte shook and
shivered toward Key West.

Now, what if Roe should discover Bob’s Jikoe ‘of
course? Or, more likely, that black, all-knowing pilot at
his back—Big Martinique? What would happen when
they saw ahead, not the barren reaches of the Dry Tor-—
tugas, but the lighthouse of Key West?

Realizing all the odds against him, with two pistols. at
his head, Storm held the Jean aga straight ar, Key
West. a

The Dry Tortugas were invisible in the southwest offing,
when Roc for the first time appeared on the bridge.

“Martinique, you take the wheel once you make out the
beacon,” he commanded, “José, lend me your night
glasses. We should sight the beacon on Spyglass Hill,
if we are within a few miles of Tortugas. We should be,
at this pace—eh, Martinique?”

“Yas, suh.” And the big negro, feeling something was
wrong, shot a bewildered glance at the huge Maestro. ~

Of’ course, no beacon was sighted. :

Bob Storm, standing before all these men. he was
duping, sailors themselves, locked his teeth with detieni\,
mination, and held to his perilous course. He knew the
Dry Tortugas were twenty miles away on their starboard. .
beam, and just slipping astern. He started only imper-
ceptibly, when Roc suddenly exclaimed:

“Where is the beacon? Captain, what’s wrong? Cet
they have failed to get the stuff, that they show ‘no
light?”

Storm answered not a word, but held to his sacgiads
course, A twist of the wheel to starboard, and the Tor-
tugas would show ahead within an hour. But almost the
same length of time on this other track, and Key West
would be sighted. Bob was going to take the chances.

Roc disappeared below, to reappear fifteen minutes later
with a bewildered expression on his bold, dark face.

“Captain, we should be safe in Portuguez Cove by now
Have Nay
retarded us? Or are we on the wrong tacks. 07 i hora, en
- Bob could not trust himself to answer. He kept stat :

Pe rigidly ahead in an attempt to conceal his fears and mi

givings. And then he was startled by hearing Roc mutter
“I will make certain. This. may be treachery, sb

gee!” iy

 
22 NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY.

He went thoughtfully from the bridge, and made aft.

But who did he purpose seeing there? How could he
make sure of what was being done? Was it possible that
in some secret way he could keep track of their course and
discover Storm’s duplicity?

And then, of a sudden, came the sound of feet running
along the deck. A clatter on the ladder, and then the
dark, furious face of Roc was thrust before Bob’s, and
his thunderous voice sounded like the clap of doom.

“You traitor,” he cried, “I have found you out! Stop
that trick! You have run by the Tortugas; you mean to
take us all into Key West! But, Roc, he’s too clever!
I have found you out, you fool! Monsieur Stafford—your
y?

own man—betrayed you!

Fa

CHAPTER/YXV.
STORM’S DESPERATE STAND.

Big Martinique took the wheel, while Roc gazed down
at Bob’s woe with unconcealed enjoyment.

“Ah! It is good we have two naval officers on board,
and of a different stamp!” he said, with great glee. “I
gave Monsieur Stafford the number of miles to the Dry
Tortugas, and then our knots per hour and how long we
have been out, and he did the rest. His calculations
showed us plainly your little game, captain. And
now——”

He went suddenly stern and black in the face.

“Now, take the wheel, captain, and bring us back to the
Tortugas! Quick! Obey me, or you will be shot by the
men behind you!”

What could Bob do? He took the wheel from the big
negro, and spun it around. And, with a jar that shivered
through the whole length of the little steel craft, its stem
swung abottt from the direction of Key West, to star-
board and the Dry Tortugas.

“Now, captain,” admonished Roc “you will be the good
captain. No use to disobey my commands, or try to be-
tray us. We have Monsieur Stafford stationed in the
cabin aft, and every little while he will be consulted to
make sure you are not playing us false. This is my
last warning to you!”

A half hour later, Big Martinique, looking through the
night glasses, set up a shout that brought the whole
smuggling outfit on deck. He had sighted the beacon,
‘and within five minutes it became visible to the naked
eye—a pinpoint of red light.

Storm rang “Slow speed!” down the annunciator, and
made straight for the light. When the shore became
visible, he relinquished the wheel to the negro pilot.

Then, under slow head, the Jean Lafitte slipped through
the narrow channel between white-teethed coral reefs, and

into a small, well-sheltered cove.

Now commenced the real work of the smugglers, In
the ship’s boats and lighters from land, the goods cached

on the shore of the little cove were, after half an hour’s

hard work, safely deposited in the hold of the Jean

Lafitte.

Then came aboard Mie ten men who had run the smug-
gling station in the cove, and another man, a short, dap-

per, French-looking individual, whom Roc greeted warmly
( cand addressed as Lieutenant Pierre Tributor.

~ At that name, Storm, even in his desperate straits,

pricked up his ears. But he had much ado to gather any
information from the rapid-fire conversation in mixed
French and English.

It appeared that one of the Brazilian crew that was
bringing the Jean Lafitte to the Free Republic had been
taken suddenly sick and had died. Instantly the hired crew
had cried: “Yellow Jack!” and, by force of ‘numbers, had
compelled the abandonment of the destroyer.

In an open boat, with five members of the crew and ©
the. captain, Pierre Tributor had drifted to Key West.
There, while in the government’s quarantine station, he
had heard that the destroyer had been discovered, a
derelict, and was being taken into New Orleans by a prize vf
crew from the U. S. S. Delaware. ee

Thereupon he had got into “underground” communica-
tion with the Free Republic, which accounted for the cap-.

‘ture of the Jean Lafitte while passing through that com-

munity’s territory. Then he had made his way to the
rendezvous cn the Dry Tortugas, there to await the
coming of the Jean Lafitte on its first smuggling cruise
and be taken aboard.
Storm turned away to ring “Up steam!” on es an
nunciator. Then, with its illicit cargo of Havana cigars,
the Jean Lafitte,. under the ere of Big Martinique,
headed out of the cove.

Ere the open gulf was reached and Bob took the wheel,
Roc left Pierre Tributor, and approached to say:

“Captain, you will skirt these islands. Keep some Be
off. When you sight Boucanier Rock at the western ex-
tremity, sheer off, and set your course straight for home,

“But how will I know it?”

“Oh, Martinique will tell you. Or, better, you can hear
the breakers on Sharksfin Reef. And now, remember, no
treachery ai

And he nodded meaningly at the two pistol wielde ay
standing just behind Stqrm.

The young ensign ‘felt the steel at his head. There wa
nothing to do but obey. And so it was that for a good
half hour, the Jean Lafitte slipped silently along in the le
of the islands.

- Just as a low,, thundering rumble announced the ree:
and the rock ahead, of a sudden, out of the abysmal black:
ness of the wild night, shot up a mnie thread of red
light!

“A signal rocket!” breathed Bob.

“Roc! A ship am wrecked, suh, on Sharksfin Reef
shouted Big Martinique.

The huge Maestro, followed by little Pierre Tributor,
sprang over to the wheel. Then all stood in a group
about: Storm, and looked out into the blackness ahead.

A second rocket soared through the black skies.
then, as a third appeared, the tense group on the bridge o
the Jean Lafitte got a glimpse of a huge steamer lying
stem up on Sharksfin Reef, and heeled over at such
angle that its decks were precipitous inclines and v
from rail to rail! ve .

“Must be a steamer from Vera Cruz, suh,” said t
negro pilot. “This am a bad night to run near these
islands. Bettah order the captain to turn out, suh.”

Roc see a look at the negro that rene sien
him.

“I think not!” he cried,

“Here we have a tig’

 
NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY.

wrecked on Sharksfin Reef—the old wreckers’ paradise!
She is rich‘ in-goods! Her: people are helpless. It is

uck! We will rescue them, eh, Pierre?” And the huge

Maestro winked one of his dark eyes.

_- Phe dapper Pierre nodded knowingly. ~

“Captain, you are the man for us!” Roc sang out.
“Bring us safely within rowing distance of this steamer.
We have decided to rescue these doomed people.”

But this sudden philanthropic change of heart and the
“queer words anent the steamer’s riches and her
passengers’ helplessness had not failed to impress Ensign
Storm’s quick brain. He flashed a glance about. He noted

e wild, eager look in Roc’s bold eyes, the awed ex-

ession on the negro’s features, the sardonic smile that
ust flickered beneath the little black mustache of Pierre

He put two and two together,
“Roc,” he ‘said boldly. “You do -not intend to rescue
those people. You mean to rob them, This is your long-
wished-for chance to play the pirate. But-I will not guide

f?

your craft to them, Roc; I refuse to obey your command!

CHAPTER XVI.
THE TEST OF A- MAN,

The Maestro sprang forward, and tore the revolver
m the hand-of one of Storm's: guards. Then he towered
n fearful wrath over Bob.
-*“Porvidat” he cried. “A rescue or piracy, you witl——”
Pierre Tributor laid a frantic hand .on his pistol arm.
“Roc! Don’t do it! Get the other—Stafford !”

2 He cast his oe to the deck; then, turning, flung
Storm roughly against the rear rail of the bridge. There

he destroyer’s engines were at astandstill now. The

ttle craft itself still rocked in the troughs and swells of

heavy-running sea. No one was at the harnessed

el, which was jerking, with the motion of the ship,
a Reet way, and now a notch se other way.

ufford and his guard on me Bob raliehe a glimpse
is pale face, as he confronted Roc on the bridge, but

k, monsieur!” said Roc suavely, pointing toward
wreck. “That steamer is high and dry on-Sharksfin
_ She has hundreds of passengers aboard; men, frail
n, poor little children; Monsieur,, we must save
lives! We must get to that steamer and rescue
! Take that wheel, and work this ship in to those

y I'll run the, is through. But I don’t know
channels ae you a nile y””

ing right into the hands of these pirates. All seemed
lost !

“Oui, oui!’ assented Roc excitedly. “But he can't work
a steamship. Take the wheel, and do as he says. He will
tell you the way. ‘Hurry! We must rescue these peo-
ple——”

“But why so eager?” queried Ralph, rather testily. It
almost seemed as though Roc’s eagerness had. awakened
sudden suspicions.in his mind. “There does not seem to
be any present danger hanging over that ship.”

“No danger? Monsieur, you mistake. Why.do they
send rockets, then?”

“But they. have ceased signaling.. And you—you are a
smuggler! Rescue these passengers, and your game will
be uncovered. Why, then——”

The huge Maestro went black in the face with anger.
He realized his game of duplicity was up. So, perforce, he
showed his true colors.

“It concerns you not why we want to get near. that
ship! All you must do is run us there! And you must do
that!”

“But if I refuse?”

“You will be shot to death!”

“Then, you pirate, J refuse!” cried Stafford instantly.

CHAPTER XYVIL.:
SENTENCED !

At Stafford’s defiant speech, Storm thrilled with ad-
miration for his old chum, enemy to him though it seemed
he had proved himself.

In the commotion that followed, Bob wriggled from
under the black hand of Big Martinique, and shouted en-
thusiastically :

“Bravely done, old man!

“Hold your tongue, you fool!” ordered T ributor.

But Stafford had heard. ‘

“Storm !” he cried, in glad greeting. “Bob, old man, you. ;
here? I never knew: What are they trying to .make
us do?”

The unfeigned joy expressed by Ralph Stafford caused
Bob to see the whole situation in a new light.
that, in the face of all the perils from the outside, Ralph
had forgotten, or at least temporarily buried, all a

bd

between them,

Stafford was no traitor. Like Storm himself, he was —
the tinwilling tool of the smugglers. And Storm thought
that, if he had betrayed him, it had been without: kniow!-
edge of what he did.

So the young ensign, rising to the heroic situation,
stepped forward past the waiting negro, and clasped hands
with his brother officer.

“Staff, these men are pirates! They want us to oe
this ship up alongside that wreck so ah can board er
rob her. They——’

“You would not do it?”

“No” fe

“So they tried sitll mr

“Yes, and you refused !”

At that point, Roc interrupted. . Towtring in fearsome ;
wrath above the two officers, he cried: Bash

"Your last chance, fools! Take that whéel—either’ one
of you? Obey, a or—Porvida! wn are both of, you
dead men!”

 

He saw,
NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY

Storm looked at Stafford.

“Better us than all those people aboard the steamer,
Ralph!” he said, in an undertone.

Stafford nodded. Then both unflinchingly looked up at
the huge pirate.

“No!” said Storm firmly; “we refuse!”

Roe raised his huge fist to strike him down, then paused.
Lifting himself to his full height, with that terrible fist im-
pending over his prisoner’s head, he shrieked:

“Pardieu! I will have great vengeance for this! To-
morrow you will learn what fools you have been! You
will be tied to stakes in the marshes, and left there to
perish.”

CHAPTER XVIII.
THE MOB.

Twilight had fallen over the little island in the swamps,
and all was still, save in two places: the pretentious cane
houses on stilts at one end of the long, palm-picketed road,
and the huge cypress at the other.

Before a window in the Maestro’s house stood Ensign
Storm and - Midshipman Stafford. They were. staring
down. the long street at the swirling, torch-bearing crowd
about the huge judgment tree.

“What a mob!” exclaimed Stafford.

“1 “Tt must ‘comprise’ every man in the colony,” Storm
agreed. “Roc told me there were three hundred of them:”

- “But there must be a thousand men_ there.”

“No;.a crowd always appears larger than it really is.
Besides, the torches they carry and the excited way they
are moving about——” ora tee

“They are discussing our fate, Bob!”

“Yes, and they may. be voting to ratify Roc’s suggestion.
Ugh! It’s awful!”

“We'll need all the nerve we’ve got to see this thing

* through !” murmured Stafford.

“But will we wait, Ralph, to see it through?”

Stafford looked in wonder at the ensign.

“Will we wait? What do you mean?”

Storm swung around suddenly, almost angrily.

_ *T don’t know what I mean!” he said. “Only I can’t
bear to wait for—that!”

- And Stafford returtied in the samé despairing tone:

“Anything but—that !”

The two officers, since the time on the night bates
_when sentence had been passed’ upon them, had been held
‘close prisoners. They had been cast into the forecastle of
the Jean Lafitte, and there guarded by ‘four’ armed. men,
while the little destroyer somehow, by hook or by crook,
and probably under the guidance of Big. Martinique, had
limped across the Gulf of Mexico to the island of the
Free Republic. ;

The smugglers were afraid to attempt New Orleans
in their cranky craft. They were even afraid to make
the secret harbor of the republic, and anchored the de-
_ stroyer out in the stream, and rowed to land. \

There Storm and Stafford had landed amid an angry
_ crowd, and been hustled to the Maestro’s house. That
day was one of fearful suspense and torture. Roc alone
visited them, and he came with a gloating smile on his
_ lips that only the more aggravated their terrible position.

3

In this day of their doom, Storm and Stafford had be-_

_ come fast friends once more.

Bob spoke of the betrayal.

“Roc put me on the bridge of the Jean Lafitte.
I did not know it, he had you aft in the cabin. Then
when I changed the course to make for Key West——”

“But I did not know that part of it, Bob! Believe me,
old man! All he told me was the number of knots we
were making, the direction we were heading, and the
length of time we had been out. So, all unaware, I cal-
culated that we should be within sight, if not at, the Dry
Tortugas.”

Storm’s face lighted up.

“I knew it, Staff, old man! I knew it for sure when you
acted like a hero on the bridge last night. I’ll never for-
get that, Ralph!” Re

“Nor I, how you saved me from court-martial, when we ©
walked aboard the Dakota, Bob Storm!”

The young ensign looked his great and genuine surprise.

“Oh, I’ve thought that all over,” Ralph explained, in a3
shaking voice, “and I’ve bitterly, repented my distrust of
you, my ungrateful words, and that blow!”

And so the former friends were reunited in even firmer —
bonds of friendship. 4

A sudden roar from the direction of the judgment tree
caused the two to leap to the window. One could see
from this how tensely strung they were by the fearful

torture of waiting for their doom.

A great, continuous rumble came from the cypress tree,
The torches danced and flamed about in intticate patterns.
Then, of a Sudden, they began swiftly to move down the
road from the tree.

The mob was racing down the road for the Macitegh
house!

“They are coming for us!” Storm cried.
worse than lawless—a mob !”

“They are

CHAPTER XIX, °
ROC, THE MYSTERIOUS.

Suddenly, as the three hundred men came up, ; eae the
huge Maestro, appeared before them, and confronted them
with arms outstretched. to -bar-their. way to the, house.

“Halt!” he cried, in a fury-shaken voice.

“Out of de way, Maestro!” yelléd:one of the leaders
of the mob, coming. to a stop. . “Queek!.. Out. of de wary
By gar! we keel dose two prisoners 1”

“Burn down de house!”. came..in a ‘threatening riimble
from the men crowding up behind. “Cook dem good!”

“No!” cried Roc furiously. . “The first man who touches
those prisoners, or puts torch to my. house, will be shot :
and. by the Maestro himself!” . | ,

He threw out his hands appealingly.

“Ma foi! Are you not satisfied with the sentence. of
death I pronounced? Men, is not death in the ' swamp
worse than burning alive?”

That settled it. With many a growl and hate-filled look
up at the window where stood the two trembling ae
ers, the mob slowly turned away.

Roc stood in the center of the road with arms folded
triumphantly, and gazed after them—a grim, gigantic, fig-
ure in the moonlight. Ee

ceaselessly about the cane baitifing all purposely ‘athe :
for Storm and his chum in the window above. to hear,

 

Though ~
 

NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY. 25

af
. He mounted the high ladder then to the raised house.

f “Messieurs,” were his first words, “you shall not know
_ Roc, the Maestro, as a bad host. For the last night of
your stay with him, he not only puts sentries all about so
that no one shall disturb you, but he gives up his whole

mansion of two rooms to you!”

He smiled sardonically.

“Roc, hé will sleep elsewhere. Or no, he will not sleep

at all, but keep his eyes wide open so that he can come
every little while in the night to see that his guests are not

_ harmed or lacking in comfort.”

It was very clever, but it failed of making any visible

effect on either Bob or Stafford.

“Come, captain, and you, my friend; perhaps you
ould care to see the other room of your house—ouwi?”

He made for the door opposite that of the entrance.

_ Storm and Stafford, having nothing better to do, and won-
dering if there was some method behind this queer con-
duct of the Maestro, followed.

They found themselves in a room lighted by the moon-
beams that streamed through a solitary window in the
rear.

Roc crossed to this, and leaned out.
‘sessed by a new idea.

Looking down over his shoulder, the two prisoners saw
a sluggish stream immediately below, a broad, open

He seemed pos-

| space of almost stagnant water walled on the opposite side

by marshy rushes, and, beneath them, the stilts of the
very house they were in.
“Here, Jean, mon cher! Allons!”
He took from his sash a handful of bread crumbs, and

dropped them through the window into the brackish

- stream. ;
“Come, mon cher Jean!” he called again.

Pirate, Jean Lafitte, want to lose his supper?”

What was it, this thing

Roc was calling? Some uncanny thing? Or a water moc-

+masin, or huge alligator?

“Does my old

Storm started in amazement.

CHAPTER XX.
THE GOAD OF: DESPAIR.

A sudden splash! Then an old, wrinkled, ugly, black
head, with great, staring eyes, appeared out of: the. slug-
gish stream, followed immediately by the huge body and
‘upper shell of a monstrously large sea turtle.

a So this was Roc’s pet. Of a certainty, it was as gigantic
_ of its kind as the Maestro himself. It must have weighed

- seven hundred pounds, for Bob was aware that a good-
‘sized turtle, capable of carrying a man on its back, usu-
ally tips the scales around the five-hundred-pound mark.
_And it was old. Storm judged that from its titanic size
and huge shields, but, most of all, from the many bar-
nacles attached to its upper shell. Yet, for all that, it
flipped about, snapping for the titbits Roc cast from the
window, as quick and greedy and sportive as a young

: Il at once, in chasing a drifting morsel, the huge turtle
addled out of the shadow ofthe house and into the bright
light. Its shell shone in the light like green, bar-

Even in their state of despair, the navy men could not
restrain an outburst of surprise. For they realized in a
flash that the carving on the turtle’s shield had been done
with a knife in the hands of the buccaneer, Jean Lafitte
himself, one hundred years before.

Roc received their exclamations with a dry smile.

“Look, you,” he said; “that turtle was alive a hundred
years ago when Jean Lafitte, the first Maestro, carved his
dread name on its shell. It may have ‘been a hundred
years old then—quién sabe? At any rate, it is probable
it will be alive in another hundred years. And where will
you be then, messieurs?”

Storm looked full at him. He caught the significance
of the words in Roc’s eyes. The fellow wished to keep
their thoughts on their impending doom. ‘This was his
revenge!

“Oui!” he insisted, “that turtle—a thing you despise—
was alive at least one hundred years before you were
born. It will be alive for still one more hundred years.
And you—you will be dead by to-morrow’s sunset. It is a
curious world.”

Storm bit his lip to hold his temper.

“Even the pirate you admire—this fellow Lafitte—is
dead,” said Storm coolly. “We all die, you know, Roc.
And men like you usually die suddenly, perhaps from a
wound in the back!”

For a single instant, the torturer winced. Then he
pulled himself to his vast height, and taunted. bitterly:

“Ah, you are right there, Monsieur Storm. Even great
men die, and, as you say, sometimes from stabbing, ora
shot in the back. But that is sudden, queek! Think how

much worse is your fate—death by slow torture!

His dark eyes lifted from the faces of the two navy
men, arid he seemed to,see-a picture—a terrible, gruesome
scerie.

“What’s sudden death to this: two long days standing
naked in the swamps, hand and foot bound to a stake and —
water to the knees! And the mosquitoes! Monsieur
Storm, a mosquito is small and frail, but a thousand of

-them—they. will bite and bite and eat you whole—the

skin from the flesh, the flesh from the bone! Ah, what a

fate, messieurs !”

With that last. sting of his venom, the huge, dark
Maestro strode out of the room, out of the house, and
down the ladder, leaving his two captives to consider
the awful picture he had conjured to their mind’s eye.

Of a sudden, back to Storm’s heart. flooded all his —
nerve and courage. He wheeled on Stafford, a nameless, |
desperate look in his brown eyes. ;

“Staff!” he cried, “I can stand this no longer!
not turtles; we will not wait for to-morrow!
dash out now—make a fight for it—and get shot!
the only way!”

We are
We will
It’s

TO BE CONTINUED.

WHAT MAKES CLOUDS? .
Many scientists have told how clouds ‘are made; most

of the books on physical geography tell all about them;

but it is all guesswork. Clouds are a mystery. It is true
they are composed of moisture floating in the air; but
how-did the moisture get there? .

It is supposed that particles of moisture: are evaporated &

 
NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY.

from the earth’s surface by the heat of the sun. This
moisture does not form into clouds immediately. The
passage of the moisture from the earth to the upper air
is quite invisible. -It was formerly supposed that this
moisture was condensed by the cold of the upper air into
rain droplets which formed the clouds. But scientists hold
that the tiny particles must have something to condense
upon. They used to tell us that the moisture collected
upon dust particles to form into rain drops. Now they are
practically agreed that it is something else, but they
don’t know what. Anyway, when these drops get large
enough they accumulate into vapor, forming clouds.

When the droplets get too large and heavy to float in the

air they fall to earth in the form of rain, and this is about
all we actually know about clouds.

A SYMPATHIZING FRIEND.

By MAX ADELER.

As Peter Lamb was walking up the street, a few days
ago, he saw our coroner, Barney Maginn, sitting upon
the steps of his porch, with his face between his knees,
his hands locked over the knees, and his mind evidently
_in a state of deep despondency. Peter is sympathetic, as
well as talkative, and, taking a seat by. the side of Maginn,
he said:

“What’s the matter, Barney ?”
Oh, nothing.”

“Because if you're grieving over that horse of yours
that died yesterday, you’re doing. wrong. You ought to be
_ glad he’s dead and safe. He had the glanders awful. Now,
if he’d lived, maybe you'd a-caught them. from him; then
Mrs. Maginn and the children might a-got. them; then
they'd a-given them to other folks, and in about a week
the whole town’d a-been shuffling around with the glanders,
' with their jaws swelled out terrific; and other towns’d
a-caught them, and they'd a-spread all over the world
and made the whole human race sick as thunder. before

they'd a-been stopped, for all you know.”

“That,isn’t worrying me any,” said Mr. Maginn.. ,
_ “Then it must be because the Washy Hose Company: has
elected Bismarck an honorary. member, and he’s accepted,
while .the Fidelity Hook and Ladder, your .company,
_ haven’t got any bigger honorary. member than Senator
 -Plugg. Now I wouldn’t distress myself about that, Bar-
ney. What's the use? You know well enough old: Bis-
marck’s hot going to come over here and run. with. those
fellows. He’s not goitg to grab a horn and go pelting

and hollering to a fire; and shin up a ladder with a sec-

tion of hose, and yell through his horn for them to turn
on the water, and then climb down and mash a Fidelity
_ man’s nose with a spanner. He’s not that kind of a)man.
He’s too busy. Those Holenzollerns ain’t going to let
him hustle around squirting at fires while they can afford
to pay him a salary, They’re too much attached to him.
So cheer up. It ain’t worth bothering about.”
“Tt ain’t bothering me,” said Mr. Maginn, still keeping
/ his head down and spitting. over his toes.
,, “Well, if it’s those cramps in your stomach coming on
* again, what’s the odds? They ain’t going to kill you. T
wouldn’t let them make me low-spirited. I know a man
who had cramps down there for thirty-five years straight
ahead without any let-up; but he wore a smile all the
tim and was s always arenes aay just tackle them. You

spread a mustard plaster over the outside, and put some aie

paregoric on the inside, and wear flannel, and lay over the —
back of a chair when they hurt you bad, and get your

wife to knead your stomach once a day with the potato- —
masher or something, or else thump yourself with a
rolling pin, and you'll be all right in a little while. You're —
an American citizen. Think of what the patriots suffered —
in the Revolution! Think:of Valley Forge and the heroes —
who bled there, and a mere cramp in the stomach seers §
ridiculous. Now don't be miserable about it!”

“I haven’t got any cramp,” replied Mr, Maginn.

“And.as for that political victory in Connecticut, if”
that’s what’s distressing you, why, it isn’t worth minding.
Keep a stiff upper lip and wait till fall, and we'll give
them a dose in this here State. I’ll stuff enough ballot
boxes myself to fix you all right;
make them get up and howl, my name’s not Peter Lamb,
What’s one victory, anyway? Don’t you let it sicken
you.” .

“It doesn’t worry me a bit,” said Mr. Maginn,

“There’s your mother-in-law; I know she died on
Saturday, but what’s the good of going on about her?
She’s dead, and there’s an end to it. You might blubber
your head off, and she wouldn’t come back: She know
dog she’s well off. You ought to try to bear up under

_ These afflictions come to all of us; ‘they are meant ‘for
our good. I dare’ say that the old lady put ‘away ten dol-
lars’ worth of victuals itt a week, Now she never gets
hungry, and you bag the difference. - You darsen’t chew
tobacco in the house when’she was around. Now that she’s
an angel, she ain’t so particular, and you can spit all over
the carpet if you’ve a mind to. And there’s one bed less
to make, and not so many clothes in the wash, and 1

telelce that you've shook her.”
“T am glad. It doesn’t trouble me at a éaid sides é

fight on Wednesday, it was foolish, because. all. you’
got to do is to feed your dog on raw beef for a whil

Why, he'll eat hae animal up. He'll chew the. ‘vitality. out ie
of him... Anyhow, what does it amount toa dog getti

mF idube say there were good dogs ‘that fit seit we

ington and those fellows, but, who cares about it. NON re

Time heals all, these little sorrows. If your dog had we

fal of exultation he ‘ight have strained himaelf

ing and perished, Don’t be so down about it. Keep

courage up like a, man.” “Son
“Peter,” said Maginn,
“What is it, then} a

“that ain’t it.”

in this towi who has saved eleven people who tri

‘poison themselves, and although he knows he’s”

money. right out of my pocket, he won't sell his stom

pump.”
Then ie meeting adjourned.

 

and if we don’t just 3
Wants Mote Fights.

Dear Enrtor: I like very much the stories in Tir Top
now running, but I would like you to keep Brad in them,
and also bring Dale Sparkfair. Brad was in for a while,
but he has disappeared lately without any explanation.
Also, he didn’t seem to have the snap and ginger which
characterized him in the old stories. He didn’t talk
enough, and had no fights to speak of, except in the mine,
and that was with guns. Will we hear anything more
about Dale soon?

“t agree with John V. Royce, of Minneapolis, about hay-

ing a reunion at Bloomfield, and an athletic meet. Bring
ome of the old-time girls and. some of the new ones.
et Dick propose or something of that sort. Please
don’t think I’m a grumbler because I make so many
‘Suggestions. © T know it’s hard to please every reader, but
think they would all agree on a reunion.
What’s the matter with Chip? He takes a back seat
and doesn’t seem to be as prominent as the other Mer-
wells, In the Tre Tors where all the Merriwells play
part he seems about as important as some minor char-
er that you read about in one or two Tip Tops and
ever hear of again. The stories are fine now, but I’m
Ust suggesting this for the next series. Yourstruly, S.

Git! Rides Horse Thirty-two Days.

Miss Grace Carter, of Hood River, Ore., served as cow-
incher in bringing a herd of Oregon cattle to Fairbanks,
aska, for F. Sharkey, of the Portland Union Stockyards.
The girl was in the saddle thirty-two days, aiding men
rive the herd from the Alaska coast more than three
dred miles. One other woman, Mrs. H. N. Ford, was
the party. She rode in the mess wagon. Miss Carter’s
durance and courage attracted much attention.

A Good Suggestion,

in as the leading character in Tip Tor. I like Clancy,

- only as Chip’s chum. I don’t think all Tip Toppers

nt to drop “Red” entirely.

hat is some collection of Tir Tors that W. R. Valen-
né mentioned in the Compass. I would like to possess

m—who wouldn’t?

vanke was frank in his “mouthful” in the Compass—

Top No. 97. And “A Southern Reader,” from
wga,” sure is a sore reader. He seems to find fault
Mr. Standish’s football stories, his Southern char-

, and, the worst yet, that the letters in the Com- ,

are not genuine.”
always read the letters in the Compass, ard, like

NAIL Points

!

such letters like two recently published, signed “Jinx,”
they are most interesting.

Why not have the readers write to the Compass how
they came to be Tre Top readers. JI am sure that would
make the letters more interesting.

I just happened to become a reader myself. I gave
Tipe Top a trial along with several other five-cent weeklies,
and Tip Top soon forged ahead, and Trp Top is the only
one I am reading now. The first number I read was
“Frank Merriwell in Frisco.” I soon found Tip Tor to be
far ahead of the other weeklies. I secured back numbers,
and have pretty well covered the Merriwells’ “doings.”

The baseball stories are cracking good ones, and are
written as only Burt L. can write ’em. Nix on the
writer who has the pitcher strike out four or five batters
in one inning, or has the great outfielder, after making a
great run, yank off his cap and catch the ball therein.
When Burt L. writes a baseball story you can bet it is
true to the game, and the same can be said about his
stories of other athletic sports.

I hope to see the Merriwells run across old Billy Bolivar
some time in the near future. The educated one of tramp-
dom was the real goods.

I believe quite a few readers would like to know
what State the editor of Tip Top hails from—whadyesay?
I believe B. L. is from Massachusetts, or is it Maine?

Each State of the Union is well represented in the Com-
pass, and many of the countries of this old world have
readers of Tip Top.

Tip Tor has always sported nifty covers, and a reader
should not find fault on that part of the make-up of the
weekly, I see the current issue has a new-style cover,
and it sure can’t be improved on. It’s a classy cover
for a classy story. I will now close for this time
and sign, myself “Cras”

A good letter, and well written. Your suggestion as
to how our readers began reading Tip Top is a good one.
We have heard from a number of our readers on this
subject, but we would like to hear from more of them. ~

Yes, Burt L. was born in Maine. The editor of Tip
Tor hails from that clam-digging section of the Empire
State, known as Long Island.

Woman is Killed by Fright,

Mrs. J. W. Fowler is dead at Emporia, Kan,
result of heart disease induced by fright over

a
as the
the near

drowning of Mrs. Ed Wilhite and Mrs. Wilhite’s little

son, The woman and child, while wading, fell into a deep
hole, and were reached by Harvey Fowler, who hears
screaming and calls for help. %

The mother and son were unconscious and were taken Sig

 
 

28 NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY.

in a buggy to the Fowler home. As they neared the house
Mrs. Fowler, greatly frightened, ran to mect them, and
halfway to the buggy she fell. She died in a few minutes.

Blackbird Proves Aid in Sugar-beet Field.

The common blackbird, which has long been called
harmful because it destroys sprouting crops, eats much
loose grain, and makes itself a general nuisance, has
found a defender in C. F. Osborn, superintendent of the
Great Western Sugar Company, of Wellington, Col., who
claims these birds are deadly enemies of the web worm.

One day recently about ten acres of an eighty-acre
field of sugar beets was attacked by a vast horde of web
worms. Unmolested, these pests will destroy a field of
beets in a week. Flocks of blackbirds came along and
in forty-eight hours the field was cleared of worms. It
is the first time that the pests were ever exterminated in
such a short time,

“Tip Top” Twice a Week.

Dear Eprror: I have been reading Tie Top for over
three years, and I think it has no equal. I think it should
be published at least twice a week, for I can hardly
wait for it to come out.

Burt L. is some writer, and I don’t see how one
could possibly praise him, enough. Please send me a
set of Tip Top postal cards, as I would like to see some
of the characters I read about. JI will now close, wish-
ing Tre Top the greatest success, and that this letter isn’t
introduced ‘to the wastebasket. Yours,

Washington, D. C. BERNARD RUPPERT.

See Island Fifty Miles Away.

For the second time in twenty-five years Eagle Harbor,
Mich., citizens have seen a mirage of Isle Royale. The
spectacle was witnessed as the sun was setting. Isle
Royale is fifty miles from Eagle Harbor, and close to
the Canadian shore. The lakes, bays, beaches, clearings,
and forests could be seen plainly, The picture lasted half
an hour.

Wants to Weigh More.

Proressor Fourmen: I am a constant reader of Tip
Top stories, and I have read them for years. I consider
them fine.

I would like to ask a few questions as to my measure-
ments, I would like to increase in weight and flesh.
I have narrow hips.. How can I increase their size?
I also have narrow shoulders. How can I have broad
shoulders and deep chest?

I use the Indian clubs every day. Are they good for
the arms and shoulders? I have a punching bag, but |
do not know how to fix it for use. Tell me how to
put it up.

Please send me a set: of the postal cards,

I am seventeen years old.

With three cheers for Tre Tor and Street & Smith
and a knowledge of better development, I remain,

Watter Limric.

627 Cuyahoga Street, Akron, Ohio.

There is only one way to take ‘on flesh, and that is to
keep yourself in the best possible shape. This is done
by exercise, good food, and by eating very slowly, and
too much emphasis cannot be laid on the importance of
your eating with the greatest deliberation. Then you

must use great care in eating food that agrees with you.
There are many things that are bad for any person to
eat, while, on the other hand, there are many things that
agree with one person that will not agree with another.
“One man’s meat is another man’s poison,” you know.
As I have said many times, very few of us drink enough
water, and what water most persons drink they are apt
to take at. meals. Drink a glass of water the first thing
when you get out of bed in the morning, and keep drink-
ing water every time you get a*chance until you go to
bed at night, when you should drink a glass of water, but
don’t drink water during meals. Water taken at meals,
often when there is a quantity of food in the mouth,
washes this food into your stomach in a half-masticated
state, and water taken at meals greatly retards digestion.

Deep breathing will do more for your chest than amy-
thing else. Indian clubs, if light and if properly used,
prove a very useful aid to shoulder and chest develop-
ment,

Any athletic store in your city will give you a catalogue
which will show you how to put up your punching bag.
The bag is hung from a disk or platform, which is placed
at the proper height, and, in most cases, against the
wall. These disks can be made at home or bought from
sporting-goods dealers. There is one style that can be
raised or lowered to suit the height of the person
using it.

Grind Eels into Oil and Feed for Chicks,

Edward Reimers and James P. Kelly, of Oregon City,
Ore., are operating the only plant of its kind in the world..
It manufactures eel oil, which is used in the manufacture
of leather goods. A by-product is dried eel meat, which
finds a ready market as chicken feed. The plant is run-
ning at full capacity, its average daily output being fif-
teen gallons of oil and 240 pounds of dried meat.

Fishermen gather the eels with dipnets from the pools
in the rocks around the falls.- The fish are then taken to
the plant, placed in a large vat, and cooked. After a time
the valuable oil from the animals rises to the surface and
is drained off. The meat is then ground and pressed,
and still more oil is procured. From the grinders the
eels, now almost powdered, are placed in driers and later
are sacked. The government is said to be making a study
of the process.

Hope So, Too.

Dear Eprror: I have been reading Tre Tor for over
two years, but I have read a good many back numbers, and
think them fine. This is my first letter, but I hope not
the last. Where are Dick’s Yale friends? Why not have
Tommy Tucker, Hal Darrell, and young Joe Crowfoot
back again?

Please send me a set of Tie Tor post cards. I remain,
always a loyal Tip Topper, Epcar J. Finck.

Charleston, S. C.

Snake Sings Like Locust.

While Samuel Roberts and Seth Partlow, of East Co-
lumbus, Ind., were hunting in the woods near Nashville,
Ind., and were walking in the dense undergrowth, they
heard a peculiar noise,

“There’s a locust in that tree,
ing?” Robert said to Partlow.

Just then Partlow looked down and saw a rattlesnake

Do you hear him sing-

a leat lee tag and

 

Cee. ..* ae

—_ tnd tas Se

 
alas milan tO

 

 

 

NEW TIP TOP. WEEKLY. - 29

coiled to strike Roberts, who had mistaken the rattle of the
snake for the song of a locust. Partlow shot the snake.
The rattler was four and a half feet long, and was pos-
sessed of nine rattles and a button, which, the hunters
say, fixes his age at ten years, They say the snake was as
big around as a man’s arm, and old Brown County resi-
dents, who saw the reptile, declared it was the biggest
they ever saw killed in the county.

A Veteran Tip Topper.

Dear Eprror: I have read Mr. Standish’s works for
over ten years, and take great pleasure in saying that I
don’t believe he can be excelled in writing on athletic
sports, to the pleasing of both old and young.

I think about the most interesting part of Frank Mer-
riwell’s life, so far, was the time he cast out on his own
hook and went to railroading and theatrical traveling;
those were the happy days.

It would please me greatly to see Frank Merriwell,
junior, dependent upon himself, as was his father. I
should also like to hear from Bart Hodge, Bruce Brown-
ing, Barney Malloy, Hans Dunnerwurst, Jack Diamond, and,
in fact, all of the old Tie Top characters.

From a veteran Tip Topper, CHALMER CRAWFORD.

Brockton, Mass.

Hypnotized, Man May Go Through Life Blind.

As the result of being hypnotized at the opera house at
Sharon, Pa., Charles Webster, a Sharpsville young man,
may lose his sight. Webster was found to be an excellent
subject by the hypnotist, and, while in a’state of catalepsy,
he was laid across the backs of two chairs. Another as-
sistant sat on the young mam. The act strained the
muscles of his eyes. Webster was taken to a Pittsburgh,
Pa., specialist, who says the young man is in grave danger
of losing his sight.

Frank’s Marriage.

Dear Eprtor: I am a reader of -the New Tie Top
WEEekLy, though I am not on your list as a subscriber, as
I take it through a news, agent,

Here is a question I would like to ask you; Who did
Frank Merriwell, senior, marry—Inza Burrage or Elsie
Bellwood—and could you tell me where I could get the
book “Frank Merriwell’s Marriage”? Yours respectfully,

Table Rock, Pawnee Co., Neb. Max E, Guenn.

Frank married Inza. You ¢éan find out afl about it by
reading “Frank Merriwell’s Marriage,” New Medal Li-
brary, No. 587. You can get this book from your dealer
or from the publisher. The price of the book is fifteen
cents. If you send to the publisher for it, you must
add four cents for postage.

Out Greatest Battleship,

The newest battleship being built for the United States
will be 1,400 tons larger than Japan’s largest, 3,400 tons
larger than Germany’s, 8,900 tons larger than Great
Britain’s and 6,500 tons larger than anything France plans,

The True Spirit.

Dear Eviror; “The Merriwell Company,” which I saw
announced in one of the Tip Tops, never came to Dallas,
How could a town of over 100,000 inhabitants be over-
looked? The Tir Tops are generally on the news stands

each week, and I took particular pains to try and get

that one. I went to nearly every news stand in Dallas,
and they all said they hadn’t got it yet. I continued doing
so for three or four days of the next week, but I never
got it. I am inclosing five cents in stamps, for which
please send me “The Merriwell Company,” Tip Top No. 98.

I’ve got a baseball game we play called.“Fan Craze,”
and it certainly is interesting. Next to playing ball on
a diamond, I think that is the best baseball game I ever
played. I play with my father, and we have line-ups
made up of Tie Top characters. Wiley, for dad, and
Sparkfair, for me, are the best pitchers, Here is the

line-up :

DAD’S TEAM. MY TEAM.
Hodge, c. Buckhart, c.
Browning, Ist b. Singleton, Ist h.
Rattleton, 2d b. Darrel, 2d b.
Smart, r. f. Tubbs, r. f.
Malloy, ss. Badger, ss.
Bradley, 3d b. Ready, 3d b.

Arlington, c. f.
Dunnerwurst, |. f.

Gardner, c, f.
Jolliby, 1. £.

Wiley, p. Spark fair, p.
D. Merriwell, p. F. Merriwell, Sr., p.
F. Merriwell, Jr., p. Carpenter, p.
Crowfoot, util. Phillips, util,

What are the correct measurements for a boy 5 feet 4
inches; age, 14 years? Yours truly,

Dallas, Texas. Conway A, SMITH.

You have got the true Tre Top, spirit, Conway, and
you are the kind that get ahead in this world. You
were determined to get your Tip Top, and you made every
effort to get it. We trust that your efforts have been
crowned with success, for we mailed you Tre Top No.’ 98
the day we go your letter. We thank you calling your

‘failure to get Tie Top to our attention, and the matter
thas been taken up by our circulation department. If

there are any other readers who fail to find Tir Top at
their news dealers, we will greatly appreciate their writ-
ing and telling us of the fact, and mentioning the dealer’s
name.

Your correct measurements should be: Weight, 114
pounds; neck, 12.7 inches; chest, contracted, 31.2 inches;
chest, expanded, 33.8 inches; waist, 26.2 inches; forearms,
9.4 inches; upper arms, down, 9 inches; upper arms, up,
10.5 inches; thighs, 17.9 inches; calves, 12.3 inches.

Secrets of Ocean ‘Revealed in Nets.

The steamship Albatross, belonging to the United States
government, is the pioneer explorer of the ocean and its
bottom. For years this vessel, which is equipped with ap-
paratus for marine work of every description, has been
exploring the ocean bottom where the vast plains and
mountain chains are covered miles deep with water, and
charting and mapping them for the world at large.

The equipment of the Albatross includes sounding ma-
chines, for ascertaining depth of the water, and the char-
acter of the bottom, dredges for obtaining fish and other
animals from the greatest depths, apparatus for shallow-
water investigations, and a complete laboratory, where
specimens may be identified and packed, and scientific
studies carried on.

The most important work of this boat, and that for
which it is best equipped, is deep-sea sounding and dredg-
ing. It is by means of soundings, taken repeatedly, that
almost every important submerged mountain peak has been
platted,

In the great depths the water is just above the freezing

 
 

-NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY.

point, no matter how warm it is at the surface. An ex-
ample of this was shown when the Albatross was working
in the Dutch East Indies in a temperature of 110 degrees.
‘The men who sorted out the specimens in the bottom of
the dredge net were dressed in the thinnest gauze under-
shifts, but wore long mittens to protect their hands and

arms from the ice-cold mud. Water was cooled for drink- .

ing by sticking the bottles containing it into the cold
St

Soundings are taken by means of a weight, equipped
with thermometers, cups for bringing up mud from the
bottom, and other scientific instruments. This weight is
attached to a wire which in turn is fastened to a register,
indicating the depth the weight sinks. Thus at every
sounding the depths of the ocean, its temperature and
density at the bottom compared with that at the surface,
and the character of the earth from the bottom are re-
corded along with the exact latitude,and longitude of the
sounding. The deepest sounding which has yet been made
was in the Pacific Ocean, between the Hawaiian Islands
and Japan, and showed a depth of six and one-half miles.

There are two styles of dredges by means of which
the animals and fish of the great depths are captured and
brought to*the surface—the nets which are dragged over
the bottom and those set just helow the surface of the
water. The bottom dredge is hung over the starboard
side of a ship and by means of a steel cable is slowly
lowered to the ocean bottom. A dial indicates the depth
and another shows the strain, which often amounts to five
or six tons on the cable. The ship then travels ahead
for a short distance, the dredge dragging the ocean bot-
tom and picking-up whatever it may come in contact with.

When the naturalist opens the net he finds many strange-

treasures, including fish which carry incandescent lamps
in\ front of them to light their way in the inky blackness
miles below the surface, others with spots on their sides
which glow like the head of a wet match; and still others
with their eyes on the ends of long stalks, or with no
eyes at all. When brought toward the surface, and thus
released from the tremendous pressure of the deep water
where they are accustomed to living, their eyes often pop

out of their heads and their bodies break open.

Likes Owen and Chip,

Dear Eprror: I am a great reader of Tip Tor, Popu-
lay, and Top-Notch magazines, and I like them very

much. I also read Nick Carter, because I like»a change

, to something stirring, If I could choose the stories for
Tip Tor, they would all be about Owen Clancy and
Frank Merriwell, because when you put those two char-
acters in a story—that is, to start the story out—why, the
readers are interested right a way.
Please send me catalogue of the New Medal Library
; and a set of Merriwell post cards.
“ T close, wishing Mr. Standish is pounding out another
story. Yours truly, Ropert JONEs.
- Care 1109 North 14th Street, Springfield, Ill.

; Japan’s Interesting Exhibit.
~ Cémmissioner General Yamawaki to the Panama-Pacific

_ International Exposition, has promised that Japan’s mag-

nificent exhibit will be perfected in every detail when
the exposition opens on February 20, 1915. Japan has ap-
propriated $500,000, and the pavilion will be built by
i abanese workmen, One of the features of the Japanese

  

Site at the exposition will be a garden of 150,000 square
feet, which will be stocked with plants, rocks, and soil
brought from the land of the Mikado.

Fine for Sports,

Dear Epitor: Having’ never before written to you,
I thought I would write you a few lines on how I liké
the Tir Tor WEEKLY.

I think it is fine for sports of all kinds. Chip is
very good, but the Clancy books are not the best for
sports, in my opinion.

Why not get Dick Starbright back in the books; he
was always a friendly rival of Frank’s?

Seeing that my letter is ee kind of long, I guess
I will end. a

Oh, say, if you have any more post cards, I would like
a set. Sincerely yours, Victor DEcKER. ~~

931 Bachert Court, S. W., Canton, Ohio.

Wants Pay for Wooden Leg,

Mike Kinney, assistant secretary to the Industrial Ac-

cident Bureau, at Lansing, Mich., almost fainted when he

received a letter from an employee of an iron company, —
who asked if he could be given compensation for a wooden >
leg which was broken when a load of iron was dropped
on it. The employee lost ;his legs several years ago, and,

after getting artificial limbs, was given a watchman’s post

by the company. Not long ago one of the wooden legs
was broken. The man went home and strapped on a ,
reserve leg. His total time loss was two hours. -Now
he wants pay the same as if it were a real limb. ay

Adwiiys Wishes for Mote,

Dear Epitor: Have been reading Tre Top for . four
years and like it better than any other weekly out. Burt
L.’s stories keep you reading until you are‘ through, and
always wishing for more.

I like Frank and Dick best, also Owen Clancy and
Frank, junior.

I have read all the New Medal Library stories and —
have sent for more back numbers.

If you’ have any more postal cards, please send me a
set. yeti

I close, with three cheers for Burt L. Standish, the | :
best writer for boys. Frep JAcoss. ,

1613 Eleventh Street, Portsmouth, Ohio.

4

Old Snake Leads Forty-eight Others in Raid,

When Mrs. Albert Boyd, who lives near Mineral, Ind.,
heard her chickens making a noise, she took her hands
out of the dishwater and went to investigate the trouble.
She found a large garter snake and several smaller ones
paying a visit to the henhouse. Mrs. Boyd seized a club
and started annihilating the reptiles) When she had dis-
patched Mrs. Gartersnake and all the little snakes, and
added up the dead, she found she had killed one ol
snake and forty-eight little snakes, making a grand total
of forty-nine.

Likes Chip Best.
Dear Eprror: I am too late to send any suggestions

\ds to the change of characters in Trp Top, but you have

decided in my favor. i,
I have read New Tie Top from No. 1. The Clancy —
stories were fine, but I like Chip Merriwell best of all.

ee Y

eer
NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY. | BI

What has become of Billy Ballard?
hear from him again.
Please send me a set of the cards and a New Medal
Library catalogue. Yours truly, Joz ANDERSON,
Emet, Okla.

You will hear more of Billy Ballard later on.

I would like to

China’s First Machinery Exhibit.

For the first time in the history of China,.that nation
will have machinery exhibits at a world exposition, when
the Panama-Pacific International Exposition opens in rors.
China has asked and has been granted two thousand square
feet in the Palace of Machinery, the largest of the exposi-
tion structures. Workmen have been at work for some

time on the Chinese pavilion on the exposition grounds,
and the structure promises to be one of the most interesting
of those being built to represent forty foreign nations.

Red Skunk the Latest Freak.

Among the many animals of various species on the fur
farm of L. D. Carrier, of Detroit, Mich, founded last
year near Laketon, Luce County, is a red skunk, the only

animal of the kind ever heard of by naturalists or fur

men, according to its owtiers.

Lightning Reis Down His Leg.

A bolt of lightning struck a negro man near Scotland,
Ga., blistering a place the size of a man’s hand on his
thigh, then ran down his leg, leaving scars as upon a
pine tree. A child, held between the man’s knees at the

time, was knocked into’ the air, but was uninjured. ° A

bed and clock in the same. room.were demolished.

‘ "To Reproduce Grand Canon,

A ‘panoramic reproduction of the Grand Gafion of Ari-
zona is being built at the Panamia-Pacific International
Exposition at a cost of over $300,000. Over fifty thousand
square. yards of linen canvas, imported from Scotland,
ate being used for the set pieces. Visitors in this con-
cession will view the panoramas from observation parlor
cars, moved by electricity on ah elevated trestle, seemingly
along the rim of the cafion. The observer will be en-

abled to see eight of the most distinctive points of the

cafion, and the ride will last over half an hour, including,
apparently, a~ journey of more’ than one hundred miles
of the great gorge. Every resource of modern science
is employed in the work of reproduction.

Thtows Stiikes from-Center Field,

Donie Bush, the fast little shortstop of the Detroit
American League club, recently paid an original com-
pliment to Tris Speaker, the great center fielder of the
Boston Americans. After a game in which Speaker twice
threw out Bush at the plate when he tried to score from
second base on singles, to center field, another player
remarked that Speaker was a “pretty fair” thrower.

“Pretty fair!” exclaimed Bush. “Why, that fellow
. throws strikes from the center field.”

Meet Droves of Big Beats,

Big black bears are roaming the mountains at Alpine, |

Texas, in droves. They are crossing from one chain of
mountains to another, searching for feeding ground, and
are often encountered by travelers.

Two youngsters—Homer White, aged eleven, and his

‘ placed side by side in the hospital.

brother, Milton White, aged nine, found themselves in

the path of a big black bear on Hancock Hill, The boys

were not prepared for the sudden meeting with the bear.

Running back home, they enlisted their two older brothe

in the chase, got a gun, and returned to Bruin’s trail.
They came upon the big fellow in a little valleyge:

about three hundred yards distant. The boys fired

shots at the bear, but their aim was poor. Bruiy

into a fast gait and soon disappeared into the mg

Injured Twin Sisters Confuse Their Dog

Helen and Margaret Bray, twins, and eightee ars old,
have nurses and physicians in a New Brunswptk, N. J.
hospital baffled. The girls were injured in a runaway ac-
cident, one of them getting two brokes ribs and the
other a broken leg.

They look exactly alike, and insist on occupying cots
Nurses and surgeons
working over them kept mistaking one for the other,
until, in desperation, one of the surgeons pulled Helen’s
bed out of alignment with the others in the ward. Then
he forgot whether it was Margaret’s or Helen’s bed he
had moved.

Several times nurses found themselves ministering to _
the one with the broken leg when it should have been the
one with the injured ribs.” The nurses plan to place
placards on the beds, one bearing the word “leg,” and the -
other “rib,”

Six Thousand Johns Meet.

John’s day was celebrated recently at Riverside Park,
Eaton, Ind. Probably neyer in the history of the country
were so many Johns gathered together in one spot, The
John’s day idea originated with a group of Eaton residents
whose wives call them to breakfast by caroling their name.
Last year the Johns and their families numbered six thou-
sand persons, and this year’s crowd was even larger.

Exposition to Make its Own Brooms,

All of the brooms used by the Panama-Pacific Interna-
tional Exposition will-be. made in a working exhibit.in the
Palace of Manufactures, where a modern and fully
equipped broom factory was recently installed.

Eight machines will make it possible for the exhibitors
to make every type of broom commonly used, or. that the
exposition will have. any need for, from the heavy street-
sweeping machine, to the light pocket whisk broom.

The eight machines include three winders, one sewer, one
whisk, one trimmer, one stapler, and one bander,

The exhibit represents an expediture of $15,000, and is
located in the southwest corner of the Palace of Manu-
factures,

Hen Lays Egg in Apple Tree.

A hen making her nest in an apple tree and laying
an egg in it, caused Peter Brough, a farmer near Harris-
burg, Pa., to break his collar bone. Brough climbed up
the tree to examine the nest, and slipped and fell to the
ground,. striking with so much force that the bone was
Sroken.

,

Cat Carries Family Three Miles,

When John J. Smith, a farmer; of Three Brothers, Ark.,
recently moved to another farm three miles away, one of
the Smith children put-a cat and her three sgeigi in a

 
    
  
  
  
 
  
  
   
 
  
 
   
   
   
 
 
   
  
  
  
 
 
  
   
 
   
  
   
  
   
 
 
    
   
  
   
 
    
  

' basket and took them to the new home. The next morn-
ing they could not be found, but later in the day, when
Smith returned to the old place for a load of hay, he
@@eind the mother cat and her young in the loft. She had
de three trips during the night, carrying a kitten each

Catry Mail on Auto Hand Car.

car, upon which is mounted a gasoline engine,

z ‘ form of vehicle used for carrying the mails
retwer ford and Pachbottom, Pa., along the line of
Phe Lan3@gmr, Oxford & Southern Railrood. The railroad
recently st ended operation because of requirements im-
posed .by the interstate commerce commission, but the com-
pany had a contract to carry the mails. The post-office de-

commerce commission forbade the company to take its
engines from the roundhouse. David Riley came to the
rescue with the homemade auto hand car. :

Rats Attack Sleeping Man,

James Foreman, a farmer living near Junction City,
Kan., was seriously injured in a battle in the darkness
with twelve large rats. The rodents invaded his bedroom,
and when he felt something bite him on the cheek he
brushed a rat away. The animal sprang at him again, and
eleven others also ran to the attack. His cries awakened
other members of the family, who drove the animals
away.

He Leads Same Church Choir for Forty-eight Years.

At the little Maple Grove Methodist Church, in Barry
County, Michigan, a man of seventy-eight, with long, flow-
ing beard, leads the singing. He is Close B. Palmer,

years leader of church activities in Maple Grove. In this
period he has sung at some five hundred funerals.
Palmer was.born in Livonia, Livingston County, N. Y.
He moved to Jackson County, Michigan, in 1851, and four
years later moved to Maple Grove, at that time omly a
wilderness. There were only a few families in Maple
Grove then. They built houses of logs, and had to con-
tend with Indians. Deer were pleantiful, and vénison
formed one of the chief articles of food. Wild turkeys,
too, were numerous.

When Palmer was eighteen years old, the few families
in the vicinity of his home organized. a church society and
two years later Palmer became the choir leader. He has
held the position ever since.

Bees Prove Best Policeman,

Bumblebees are more effective in bringing a fugitive
to bay than are police.

Charles Roup, twenty-three years old, of Muncie, Ind.,
wanted by the police for an alleged attack on Louis Kern,
was hiding safely in a clump of bushes while police of-
ficers were all around him trying to find trace of the
man,

Suddenly Roup dashed out of the bushes, striking blindly
with both hands at bumblebees swarming around him.

Weasel Kills Watchdog Guarding Ducks,

When a weasel killed and sucked the blood of twenty-
five ducks in the flock of Frank Wright, of Federalsburg,
Md., Wright shut his dog in the coop to deal with the

partment demanded that the contract be filled, and the.

pioneer resident, Civil War Veteran, and for fifty-eight’

.

NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY.

weasel should it return. He also hung a lighted lantern
in the coop, having heard that a weasel will kill only in
the dark.

The next morning he found unmistakable evidence of
the weasel’s second visit, for the throat of every duck was
cut, and the bodies were carefully piled in a row. The
lantern still burned, and the dog was found dead, though
its blood had been sucked away so skillfully that the dog’s
rigid body sat as if in life upon its tail, its nose slightly
elevated, its ears pricked, and its mouth open as when it
last barked.

Panama Canal in Miniature.

Old Nuremberg, of interest to the student because of
its historical associations, will be found in the “Zone” at
the Panama-Pacific International Exposition at San Fran-
cisco in 1915. This will be an exact copy of Nuremberg,
the romantic village of Franz Hals’ time, “where robber
barons held the world at bay. Another concession will be
a miniature reproduction of the Panama Canal, costing
$250,000. Twenty thousand people will be able to pass its
locks every half hour.

Cuban Floral Spectes.
General Loynaz del Castillo, Cuban exposition commis-
sioner, has informed the department of horticulture of the
Panama-Pacific International Exposition that Cuba will

send specimens of all its principal floral species, and that -

a special ship will be chartered for the,purpose, and will
come through the Panama Canal, landing its cargo di-
rectly at the exposition grounds.

Tuttle Crawls Without Head.

When Walter Holt, of Lilbourn, Mo., pulled a large log-
gerhead turtle from the water while fishing, he was so
disgusted that he cut the reptile’s head off and left the
body by the side of the stream. af
returned to the spot and found only the head ahd a pool
of blood. Almost a hundred yards downstream he found

the turtle caught in a net wire fence. It was still alive

and trying to crawl forward.

 

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‘$24 Dick Merriwell,

Soot oick
8: 27— Dick

Dick Merri

ell Triumphant.

ick Merriwell's Betrayal.

dick Merriwell,

Revolutionist.

2—Dick Merriwell's Fortitude.
23—Dick Merriwell’s Undoing.

Universal Coach.

5—Dick Merriwell’s Snare.

Merriwell’s Star Pupil.
Merriwell’s Astuteness.

Dick Merriwell’s Responsibility.
Dick Merriwell’s Plan.

46—F rank Merriwell, s, Outfielder.

47—F rank Merriwell, Jr.’s, “Hundred.”

48—F rank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Hobo Twirler.

49—F rank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Canceled Game.

50—F rank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Weird Adven-
ture.

51—Frank Merriwell, Jr.’s,

52—F rank Merriwell, Jr.’s,
ble.

53—Frank Merriwell, Jr.,

Doctor.

ank Merriwell, Jr.

ink Merriwell, Jr.’s,

Double Header.
Peck of Trou-
the

and Spook

54 ’*s, Sportsmanship.
Ten-Innings,
’s, Ordeal.

on the Wing.

OG ank Merriwell, Jr.,

Dick Merriwell’s Warning. 58
Dick Merriwell’s Counsel. 59
~Dick Merriwell’s Champions.

—Dick Merriwell’s Marksmen. G0
Dick Merriwell’s Enthusiasm.
Dick Merriwell’s Solution.
Dick

ank Merriwell, Jr.’
ink Merriwell, Jr.’s,
mate.

Frank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Daring Flight.

61—F rank Merriwell, Jr., at Fardale.

62—F rank Merriwell, Jr., Plebe.

s, Cross-Fire.”’

—I
ir
56 ) I
Ir
I*
I Lost Team-

rs
ri
rank Merriwell, Jr.
Tr
r
ré

.

752—Dick Mer

7538—Dick Merri
—Dick Merri
‘Dick Merriy

fell, American.
ell’s Understa nding.

Triwell’s Quandary.
D riwell on the Boards,
erriwell, Peacemaker.
k Merriwell’ s Sway.
Merriwell’s Comprehension.
1 k Merriwell’s Young Acrobat.
fank Merriwell's Tact.
rank Merriwell’s Unknown.
“rank Merriwell’s Acuteness.
J—Frank Merriwell’s Young Canadian.
» 771—Frank Merriwell’s Coward.
© 772—Frank Merriwell’s Perplexity.
73—Frank Merriwell’s Intervention.
74—Frank Merriwell’s Daring Deed.
775—Frank Merriwell’s Succor.
776—Frank Merriwell’s Wit.
777—F rank Merriwell’s Loyalty.
778—Frank Merriwell’s Bold Play.
79—Frank Merriwell’s Insight.
80—F rank Merriwell’s Guile.
81—F rank Merriwell’s Campaign.
782—Frank Merriwell in the
Forest
83—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-

National

Ca

10—F rank Merriwell,

Merriwell’s Foreign Foe.

Dick Merriwell’s Battle for the Blue.
Dick Merriwell’s Evidence.
Dick Merriwell’s Device.

Dick Merriwell's
nents.

Prineeton Oppo-

Dick Merriwell’s Sixth Sense.
-Dick Merriwell’s Strange Clew,
-Dick Merriwell Comes Back.

—Dick Merriwell’s Heroic Crew.
~Dick Merriwell Looks Ahead.

NEW

SER

IES.

New Tip Top Weekly

1-—Frank Merriwell, Jr.
Merriwell, Jr.,

2—F rank

8—Frank Merriwell, Jr.
4—F rank Merriwell, Jr.
5—Frank Merriwell, Jr.,
6—F rank Merriwell, Jr.
7—Frank Merriwell, Jr.,

ders.

8—Frank Merriwell, Jr.’
dY.'8,

ati,

9—Frank Merriwell,
thon.

Ranch.
1—F rank Merriwell, ip
2—F rank Merriwell,
3—Frank Merriwell,
a Frank Merriwell ae

—Frank Merriwell, Jr.,
Frank Merriwell, Jr.’
Merriwell, Jr.

rank

in the Box.
’s, Struggle.
’s, Skill.

in Idaho.

*s, Close Shave.

on Waiting Or-

s, Danger.
Relay

at the Bar Z

Mara-

’S, Golden Trail.
’8, Competitor.
.s, Guidance.

s, Scrimmage.
Misjudged.

s, Star Play.

’s, Blind Chase.

63—Frank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Quarter-Back.
¢64—Frank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Touchdown.
65—F rank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Night Off.
66—F rank Merriwell, Jr., and the
Black Box.
67—F rank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Classmates.
68—F rank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Repentant
emy.
69—FTrank Merriwell, Jr., and the “Spell.”
70—Frank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Gridiron
Honors.
1—Irank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Winning Run.
2—F rank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Jujutsu.
>—Frank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Christmas Va-
cation.
rank Merriwell, Jr.,
Wolves.
5—F rank Merriwell, Jr.,
i—I*rank Merriwell, Jr.’

Little

Iin-

74- and the Nine
on the Border.
6 s, Desert Race.
7—Owen Clancy’s Run of Luek.
7T8—Owen Clancy's Square Deal.
79—Owen Clancy’s Hardest Fight.
S0—Owen Clancy's Ride for Fortune.
1 Owen Clancy's Makeshift.
82—Owen Clancy and the Black Pearls.
83—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.
S8—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.

Frank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Pick-Up Nine.
Frank Merriwell, oa Diamond Foes.
Frank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Great Game,
The Merriwell C ompaiy.

Frank Merriwell’s First Commission.
Frank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Cryptogram.
-Dick Merriwell and June Arlington.
Dick Merriwell’s Turquoise Tussle.

pearance. 18—Frank Merriwell, Jr.'s, Discretion. 4
788—Dick Merriwell’s Detective Work. 19—Frank Merriwell, q .* Substitute. 95
789—Dick Merriwell’s Proof. ©°0—Frank Merriwell, Jr., Justified. 9G
790—Dick Merriwell’s Brain Work. °1—Frank Merriwell, Ir, ” Ine og. 97
791—Dick Merriwell’s Queer Case. 2°..Frank Merriwell, Jr., Meets the Issue.. 98
792—Dick Merriwell, Navigator. 23—Frank Merriwell, Te 's, Xmas Eve. 99
793—Dick Merriwell’s Good Fellowship. 24—Frank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Fearless Risk. 100
794—Dick Merriwell’s Fun. 25—Frank Merriwell, Jr., on Skis. 101
795—Dick Merriwell’s Commencement. 2°6—Frank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Ice-boat Chase. 102
796—Dick Merriwell at Montauk Point. 27—Frank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Ambushed 103—Dick Merriwell Tricked.
797—Dick Merriwell, Mediator. Foes. 104—Frank Merriwell, Jr., in
798—Dick Merriwell’s Decision. °8—Frank Merriwell, Jr., and the Totem Fire,
799—Dick Merriwell on the Great. Lakes. 29—F rank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Hockey Game, 105—Frank Merriwell, Jr.,
800—Dick Merriwell Caught Napping. 30 —Frank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Clew. Stampede.
801—Dick Merriwell in the Copper Coun- 31—Frank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Adversary. -Merriwell vs. Merriwell.

try. 35 -Frank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Timely Aid. Dick Merriwell and the Burglar.
802—Dick Merriwell Strapped. Be —Frank Merriwell, Jr., in the Desert, Dick Merriwell Mystified.
803—Dick Merriwell’s Coolness. 34 Dick Merriwell’s Hazard,
804—Dick Merriwell’s Reliance. 8}
5

the Gulf of

in the Cattle
106
107
108
—Vrank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Grueling Test. 109
~Frank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Special Mission 110—Frank Merriwell, Jr., at the Cow-
805—Dick Merriwell’s College Mate. 36—Frank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Red Bowman. boy Carnival.
806-——Dick Merriwell’s Young Pitcher. Frank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Task. Dated Sept. 12th, 1914.
807—Dick Merriwell’s Prodding. 388—Frank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Cross-Country rank Merriwell’s River Problem.
808—Frank Merriwell's Boy. Dated Sept. 19th, 1914.
809—F rank Merriwell’s Interference, s, Four Miles.

Race.
Frank Merriwell Against Odds.
810—Frank Merriwell’s Young Warriors. 40—F rank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Umpire.

4111—F1
39—F rank Merriwell, Jr.’
Dated Sept. 26th, 1914.

811—F rank Merriwell’s Appraisal. 41—F rank Merriwell, Jr., Sidetracked. Frank Merriwell, Jr..s, Pueblo Puz-
812—F rank Merriwell’s Forgiveness. 42—-Frank Merriwell, Jr.’s, Teamwork. zle.

813—Frank Merriwell’s Lads. 3—Frank Merriwell, ig s, Step-Over. Dated Oct. 3d, 1914.
8§14—Frank Merriwell’s Young Aviators. 44—Frank Merriwell, , in Monterey. rank Merriwell, Jr., at
§15—Frank Merriwell's Hot-head. 45—F rank Merriwell, 1 s, Athletes. Bonnet Mine,

the Blue

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