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ENTANGLEMENT
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| An Ideal Publication For The American Youth

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CHAPTER I.

THE DISOBEDIENT BIPLANE.

i

The roar of the motor, the unexpected vibration, and
the propeller whirling before his eyes like an enormous
electric fan, held Doc Fisher’s attention so completely that
he forgot to notice that the ground was apparently fall-
ing away beneath him; as the big biplane rose into the
air, cafrying him and Chip Merriwell and the aviator.

Hearing the cheering of the troopers in the camp, he
looked down and backward, and saw them swinging their
hats. as they shouted engouragement; and, already, they
were in appearance boys rather than men.

Fisher held himself with more rigidity in his seat,
._ realizing that he was up in the air and climbing higher, and

that if, by any chance, he fell out, he would not find any
downy couch down there to drop into.
bc To both Chip Merriwell and Fisher, the view that began
, to. unroll before them was so fascinating that it could do
nothing else than rivet their attention; a marvelous pano-
‘rama of hills and valleys and jumbled peaks was spread
«on évery side, while out to the westward the higher moun-
_. tains along the Continental Divide stood up majestically.
eis Chip drew a deep breath of gratification. This ride in
ie biplane was a heaping up of the cup of fortune—a
_ thing he had not anticipated.
“Good for you, Fisher!” he said.

That was because the biplane journey had been brought
fat by eet declaration that the crazy trooper they

ER RE Oe ne

eee

wee

 

 

 

 

 

 

FRANK MERRIWELL, JUNIOR’S, INDIAN ENTANGLEMENT:

es Or, WHEN THE BIPLANE RAN AWAY.

By BURT L. STANDISH.

   
      
   
  
  
  
   
  
   
   
   
    
 
   

in command had ordered the aviator to set out for Santa
Fe with Fisher, and Chip had insisted on going along.

It seemed a breaking up of the hunting trip that had
brought them into the foothills of the Humbres some’ days
before, which they had reached by a railway journey over
the line running from Santa Fe north, and by horseback,
with pack mules to carry their supplies and camping
outht.

But, in reality, they did not regard it as a breaking up of
their hunting expedition, as they meant to return at once,
either with a surgeon or without one, but, in any evefit,
with the things Doc Fisher needed.

It had been an agreeable surprise to them when they
were told that this army biplane could readily carry four.
It-was built.to carry that number, and it had made its rise
from the camp with three without the least trouble:
bearing, in addition, a cage of young carrier pigeons,
though, in effect, they added nothing to theéweight.

In a talk with the aviator the boys had been told that
the biplane, big as it looked, was not a very large one;
that across the water much larger ones had been built; in
particular, one in Russia that would carry sixteen men.

The sabering propeller was whirling so fast that one
could look through, almost as if it were not there, and
see the hills and peaks.

Underneath, the ground had begin’ to reel backward in
a green and yellow blur. Hills and hollows seemed to
be smoothed out, so that the inexperienced eye could
hardly tell the hollows from the hills, except that the hills
were light in color and the hollows dark. Already, the
troopers and their camp were out Pot sight.

 
  

   

  
  
   
    
  
   
  
   
    
  
  
   
  
   
   
    
 
  
  
   
 
 

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distance from the troopers was also out of sight. It had
been visible after they rose into the air, then a hill shut out
the valley where it was located.

Their store of supplies was there, but their animals
were at the troopers’ camp, and the troopers had said
they would bring the supplies and tent over and take care
of them.

So, except that Fisher was worrying about the man who
lay ill and raving in one of the tents, there was nothing
to ‘make them anxious, and everything to make them,
Chip in particular, feel they had an enjoyable experience
before them.

They were not in the air long before dee were made
aware, by the actions of the aviator, that:something was
wrong.

Having attempted to shift his course, he had been un-
able to do so. Chip and Fisher saw him pull at levers
and try to swing the wheel over. He tried again; and, as
before, he was not able to accomplish the thing he wished.

As he tried other levers, they thought, that, having
found something amiss, he meant to descend until he could
right it. But again he failed to do the thing he so plainly
tried to do.
~ Suddenly they made the surprising and startling dis-
covery that the biplane was shifting its course.

For almost the first minute it had been a thing of life,
so far-as Chip Merriwell’s imagination was concerned. It
was a big dragon fly, very much alive; it did not seem a
mere machine, a thing of steel and wood and aluminum,
built. by the hand of man, with no volition of its own.
Now this idea that it was alive was accentuated; for it
appeared to have taken a streak of willfulness, and was de-

termined to go where it pleased, whether its driver was

pleased or not.

There was also now a quick thrill of anxiety. Both
Chip and Fisher felt it. For a disobedient aéroplane
carrying human beings is surely not an admirable thing
to be traveling in.

The aviator, pulling and swinging at wire-carrying levers
and wheel, broke suddenly into invective. He could have
announced in no plainer way that he was losing, or had
lost, control of his biplane, and that he was nervously

anxious and angry.

After a final effort to regain control, he sprang from
his seat.

“Sorhething’s got stuck,” he shouted to his passengers;
“just keep your places while I look into it; you're in

no danger yet.”

He should have omitted the “yet.”

- Fisher’s face, already pale, grew white.

_ “What's the trouble?”\ Chip asked.

“Tl find out in a minute; some wire has got caught.”
He passed by them, moving lightly along the frame,

clinging to wires with his hands. He seemed perfectly

at home; but his eyes were troubled, and a .bit of color

is had gone out of his cheeks.

_ Glancing ahead, Chip saw that the biplane. was slowly

- swerving over toward the west, a thing shown by the fact

that the hills to the south were swinging toward’ the
east. The motor was running steadily, the frame of the
biplane was still jarring, and a high breeze sang through
the wires and across the’ supporting vanes. The biplane
v ses’ mesesne it seemed on a eters and even

NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY.

The white tent that Chip and Fisher had pitched some

in no danger.”

Chip and Fisher saw the aviator go down on his knees
and begin to pull at wires with his gloved hands. Ap-
parently he had found where the wires were, tangled, and

he was trying to release them.

“Just keep your places!” he yelled, when he saw they

were looking back. “Don’t move!”

The wire which had tangled was one that had broken
after the biplane rose into the air. Probably in tighten-
ing things up at the camp, the aviator had given his mon-
key wrench a turn or so too much, and cut off or weakened
the end of the wire there; then, having pulled out undet
the strain of the work it was called to do, it had flipped

round and entangled itself in other important wires.

This alone might not have been so bad; the aviator could
have cut the wire away, a thing he did later; but the
pressure that had been thrown on other wires had
drawn them round, warping them; so other things had been

fouled, and now were jammed.

Seeing the condition, the aviator tried first to restore
to working order the ailerons—the little wing tips, and the
small planes, which gave to the biplane the ability to de-
scend and ascend—thinking that if he could get to the-
ground without mishap he could there repair the damage,

and the flight southward could be resumed.

“What’s he trying to do?” Fisher dean ap in a shrill

voice.

Chip thought he knew, though not sure; and gave rae

his opinion.
“And if we can’t get down now?”

“T guess we'll stay up a while, Fisher,” said Chip coolly,

seeing that this was no time for a panic. “You ph be
sure he’s doing all he can.”
Fisher looked about.

the big machine was swinging farther round in its high
gircle. Thén he looked at the ground.

They were so high that all the inequalities of the land,
except the principal hills, had run together in a level;
the trees wete mere green-and-gold patches on the yellow.
and-gray landscape.

When they had swung rotund, and seemed to be dike

ot in the direction of the troopers’ camp, Chip and Fisher

began to look for it, but they did not see it, for the very _
good reason that, in its big turn, the biplane mae dried :

too far to the west.
The aviator worked with a furious energy, that: put

high color into his face and statted the ae: 8 me

was plainly growing nervous.

, Even while they stared at him with a sott of : fascia: ‘

4

- tion as he worked, they heard another exclamation, saw
him give 4 jump, as if he meant to throw himself down, 2

and saw that he had dropped something. ae

It was his monkey wrench, with which he had been ;

trying to twist a wire end.

He looked about now, white-faced, clinging to the ihe cA
Slowly he rose to his feet, still clinging with his hands,
and walked to his seat. He had a little tool chest there,
and he got out another wrench, with a wire cutter ae a

pliers.

   
 

for his fore had grown gray ae his eyes too He!

“So long as it doesn’t fall,” Chip assured himself, “we're 3

 
   
    

bekd! Sa ee oe ee

 

He saw that the southern hills. ?
were speeding even faster off to one side, showing that

 

 

  

 

   

   
 

- Lp and Fisher looked about aes wi .—-

 
    

  
  

 

 

 

 

 

deal of perturbation. This was a thing they had not fore-
seen—had not even thought of as possible. The biplane
had been in, use for many weeks at Santa Fe, where they

had not heard that it ever gave trouble, and already it

had made a round trip to Santa Fe from the camp.

Yet that may have been the real reason why it was
making trouble now. A machine much used will wear,
and weaknesses will be developed or disclosed. The avia-
tor had seemed diligent and capable. Yet here was the
unexpected, and Chip and Fisher were helpless.

Chip was calmer than Fisher, though it may be ques-
tioned if he was braver. Both saw that fright was use-
less. Nothing could be done by them. If the aviator,
familia? with all the ins and outs of the biplane, could
not repair the injury, that was the end of it, though
they cotld still hope it would not be the end of them.

The motor was running steadily, and the biplane seemed
to be neither rising nor falling. The aviator was still at
work, clinging with one hand, while he manipulated his
tools with the other.

They watched him come slowly back, search again in
his tool chest, and start out again.

“What could you expect?” he snarled. “I never thought
of it till a while ago, but this is the twenty-third of the
month !”

“Twenty-three skiddoo for us,” said Fisher, yet failed
of mirth, for the thing was too serious.

“And it’s Friday, too!” the aviator shouted. “Can you
beat it—Friday, the twenty-third!” '

“Tt isn’t Friday, the thirteenth, though!’ Chip Merri-
well shouted back at him.

“What an idiot,” Chip was thinking; “it must have been
that thought striking him which made him drop his
wrench.”

“Oh, say, this is too bad!” said Fisher.

“I’m willing to say it.”

“And that sick man in the camp. No medicines for him
now. I’m afraid he’ll die. Where do you suppose we’re
going? Not to Santa Fe, certainly.”

“We might, yet,” said Chip; “you can see that we're
still turning. Soon we'll have swung round the circle and
be pointing again south.”

“And then on round and point north. It makes me think
of a buzzard sailing round and round in the sky.”

“We'll likely be food for buzzards or coyotes, too,” came
into his mind} but he did not express it.

The aviator made another journey to his tool box.

“Accomplishing anything?” Fisher yelled at him.

“Nothin’,” he said; “I don’t know what’s the matter,
more than that a wire broke and snarled up others. There
seems to be a general kinking of everything back there.”

“We can’t get down?”

“Oh, some time—when we fall. Never heard of an
aéroplane stayin’ up forever, did ye?”

It was the levity of desperation.

“That Friday-twenty-third business is all rot,” Fisher
said to him. “And it isn’t the twenty-third; you’ve lost
count out here.”

_ The grin with which the aviator tried to receive this

sat on his face like the grimace of some horrible mask.

He had stooped, to speak with Fisher; now he rose and
went sliding on toward, the rear, Singing witlt hands and

feet.

_ “He’s got courage yet,” Fisher was thinking ; “I wouldn’t

want to be out there, hanging to a wire or two, over this

NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY.

abyss. Yet I suppose he’s as safe as we are. Too bad
he has got that Friday bee in his head.”

Fisher had seen that the aviator was trembling, and he
felt sure ‘that superstition was getting in its black work.

A few minutes later, as the big biplane swung round
toward the north again, Chip and Fisher, hearing a cry,
saw that the aviator had lost his hold on the wires, or had
slipped in some manner, and had pitched through; but
was still clinging, though with head downward, a posi-
tion he could not long hold.

Chip was the first to start up. Fisher dropped back,
for the movement turned him suddenly blind and dizzy.
He had no liking for heights.

When Chip had crawled carefully to the point where
the man was clinging, Fisher manfully fought down the
terror that had attacked him, and went forth with as
much boldness as he could summon to Chip’s assistance.

The aviator was making efforts to help himself. He
still had a modicum of courage and a good deal of strength.
When Chip and Fisher, clinging to his arms and ‘clothing,
tried to lift him, he assisted himself so much that he
finally crawled to the place he had lost.

“I’m all right,” he panted; “go on forward.”

It was not as easy to do this as to came out where
they were, for then they had been spurred by their thought
of the aviator’s peril. Fisher dared not look down. He
felt sick and dizzy, but he finally crawled to his seat.

A strap was there which he had not used, designed to
enable the occupant of the flimsy seat to buckle himself
into it sectirely. Fisher. drew the-strap round his body
and buckled it up to the last hole. It drew tightly,
but the leather was soft, and it did not hurt him. Imme-
diately he was breathing freely.

Chip preferred not to bind himself into the seat, for he
felt safer free, even though his position was no better
than Fisher’s.

Soon the aviator came tremblingly toward his plate.

Sitting limply, he tried the wheel and the levers, yet
with such carefulness that they saw he was really afraid
to touch anything lest he should make a bad matter
worse. -

On a level keel, that brought them at times close to thé
tops of hills, and at others sent them over deep ravines
and gorges where the ground seemed almost to sink out of
sight, the biplane drove on, swinging in its wide circles,
but being carried by a brisk breeze steadily toward the
northward.

How long they drove on in this manner, with the bi-
plane soaring round, high in the sky, but moving steadily
in a northerly course, those whom it bore did not know;
yet, no doubt, the time was not one-half as long as it
seemed.

Always in their ears was the fluttering roar of the
motor and the keen whine of the wind whimpering along
the wires and vanes. At times the wind was so gusty
that it tore at their clothing and plucked at their hair,
and the biplane pitched like a boat in a choppy sea. Al-
ways the propeller whirred and blurred. And round them
lay the irregular hills, with the powering mountains off
to the west and northwest.

When the aviator had got back his strength and his
courage, he made other efforts to regain control of his

willful steed of the air. He worked cautiously, as if he

feared he might do too much, or release something that
would cause the aeroplane to rack itself apart. They |

  

 
  
  
  
  
   
  
      
     
     
      
        
      
  

    

   

wotld go down some time, as he had said, but he did not
ee want to plunge down in a mass of wreckage.

me More and more, the situation, combined with his su-
: perstition, was telling on his nerves.

 

% expedient of warping the vanes with his hands, pulling at
a them heavily.
He gave a shout.

“We're going down!” he said.

He swung upward with a pitching motion, exultant, and
Fisher’s heart leaped, for he feared the aviator was about
to pitch out into space.

“See, we’re going down!” he yelled, again, as he crawled
in beside the wheel. “Going down!”

The downward movement was hardly apparent to the
eye of inexperience. Fisher, stating at the ground, saw
no change there, and began to wonder if he was fated
to have another crazy man on his hands.

Yet as he looked he noted that the hills began to make
themselves clearer, more distinct in outline, and he knew
they were really dropping, with a slowly sliding motion,
which would require time, but was much better than a

. faster movement.

Far off, Chip Merriwell caught sight of a house, be-
tween a gap of the hills, though the eee of the aéro-
plane hid it almost at once.

“We're approaching a town, village, or something,” he
cried. “If we cat get down there——”

“Maybe,” said the aviator; “somewhere near it, I hope.
But we’ve got to take it as it comes. If we make a safe
landin’, I’m satisfied.”

 

 

CHAPTER II.
THE COMING OF THE GREAT BIRD,

Little Miss Williams, the school-teacher, fair-haired,
gray-eyed, and sérious, was explaining patiently to Miss
Minnie Redcloud, why, as she understood it, Germany had
declared war on France.

But Minnie Redcloud’s face was sullen and her black

eyes had a vacant,look. Both France and Germany were
vety far away; she knew little about them, and cared less.
To learn about them, and their war, was stupid.
Besides, through the open window of the schoolroom
/ was borne constantly the chanting of the medicine man in
the first log house beyond, where her uncle lay, dying, as
she feared, of a strange illness.

The medicine man had told her father, who was one
of the chiefs of the tribe, that a baby wolf had, in some
mysterious manner, contrived to get into the drinking

‘water, and her uncle had swallowed it, and now it was
tearing his stomach to pieces and racking him with ter-
gible pains.
Mightily, day and night, the medicine man was ham-
- -mering on his gourd drum, leaping and posturing, as well
as shouting and singing, in his frantic efforts to frighten
the wolf into leaving; but he had not accomplished it,
ae he worked 80 hard at times ee the perspiration

  

isis had caaesiad about, in a ‘aad as ta off as the
moon, when right now, within a few yards of her, the

  
 
 

from the railway station, and at t Abother time the ted hand-
mnysaek aa nhs a 1 box a ieee and had made willow whistles

ee NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY.

At last, as if driven frantic by desperation, he tried the

   

   

for her and toys innumerable ever since she could remem-_
ber, lay at the point of death! .

There were tears in her black eyes as she sat looking
at the slim little teacher; and for the life of her she could
not remetber what the Germans and the French were
fighting about, nor the names of the big chiefs they called *
their kings. a

All she knew was that once she had seen a Frenchman —s_—s
who had a bristling mustache, and who talked in a loud
voice, and she did ‘not like him. And now her uncle
was dying.

The schoolroom was filled with boys and girls with
black hair and eyes and coppery-brown skin, who bent over
books, when they wanted to be out on the mountainside,
playing, or down in the valley, driving the sheep and cattle
about, or fishing and swimming in the little river.

Still, they liked their teacher, who had come all the way .
from Denver, where the agent had sent for her, and was *
now trying hard to cram so many things into their un- ;
willing brains that they were fairly dizzy.

She had pink cheeks, and seemed very small and very
fair to these Indian boys and girls of the Chiricahau
Apache reservation, which lay so snugly there by the. New
Mexico-Colorado line. E

Steadily in through the open windows drifted the sing- # |
ing and howling of old. Brown Bear, the medicine man, J?
who claimed to know more about everything than the white i.
agent; an old Indian whose wisdom they listened to with
respect, and whom they feared rather than liked; for he
could cast witchery spells on them, or bring down the
spirits from the hills to make them ill if they leapachaet
at him or did not choose to obey him,

The agent, Mr. Neckar, and little Miss Williams, said
that he could do none of these things, but their fathers
and mothers, who ought to know, said that he could. — ‘,

While Miss Williams was carefully explaining to Miss —
Minnie Redcloud that the German kaiser was not the King
of France; a sudden uproar arose outside that quite
drowned her voice.

As the roar increased, and it was discovered that the _ tb
Indian men and women out there were rushing about and
yelling frantically, some of the boldest of the boys at the
rear of the room hopped suddenly out of their seats and)
ran out, in defiance of Miss Williams’ entreaties ands com-—
mands. :

When they got outside they saw that the Indians’ were
gathering in the wide open space before the agency build-
ings and were) staring at the sky off over the southern —
hills,

Brown Bear, the medicine iat, was still crow hoppitig a
and singing and beating his medicine drum, in the log |
house where the sick man lay, but the Indians — were no
longer giving him any attention. ih

One of the older men, who had once been a warrior,
produced from some hiding place an old rifle, and came
running with it, and the young Indians who had rushed tie
out of the schoolroom saw that he was intending to kill | 4
the strange bird that was bearing down on them. _ Aan |

They had never seen a bird like it, either for size or
the noise it made. It was larger than a hundred eagles, _
and its angry voice rose in a roar that filled the entire.
valley. nd. ae i

Some of the women, as soon as they had taken a look -
at the monster, ran, screaming, to hide themselves and —
their children in the log pants but the men ane bach

        
  
 
 
    
  
   
  
 
    
  
   
  
  
   
  
   
  
   
 
  
   
   
   
 
  
  
  
  
  
   
   
   
 
 

 

—_——

SO oa

f

ga en ee SF

_

 

 

    
      
   
 
  

   
 

need eran

‘

   

boys and a few of the women and girls tried to stand
_ their ground, clustering round the old warrior who had
_ the long-shooting rifle.

More boys and girls came flying out of the schoolhouse,
e to join those already out, and finally the pink-checked
y - teacher appeared in the doorway, so vexed that she could
hardly see.

She began to shout commands to her pupils to come back
. at once into the schoolroom, when she herself heard the
€ r loud roaring, and saw the great bird that was winging
4 down on them.

{ She stared at it, with slender hand cupped over her
gray eyes.

“Why, it’s a flying machine,”
cloud, it’s a flying machine!”

But remembering that she had never thought to tell

these children anything about flying machines, or even that
there were such things, she knew that her belated explana-
tion now would do little good.
: Even the children from the school, and all but the
Pile § bravest of the warriors began to run when the big bird
| came so close that its size seemed to blot the light out
. of the sky over by the hills and its roaring of anger be-
es came deafening.

The bravest of the men crowded round the old war-
rior whose trembling hands were now lifting the rifle.
if Then the chanting and drumming of the medicine man
ceased, and he appeared in the door of the log house,
where, with so much exertion, he was conjuring to drive
away illness.

He saw the giant bird and heard ‘te bellowing, and

ot hesitated, as if he meant to jump back and close the

} wee door on it.
yp | a But he knew that the eyes of the people, those who
stood their ground, were on him, so he came out with a
show of boldness he was' not feeling. Gyrating and danc-
ing as he came, he flung the ends of his blanket aloft
to scare away the terrible bird, and howled at it.
a ¥ The rifle cracked, as the old warrior pointed it; though
the great bird did not fall fluttering to the ground, as many
of the Indians expected.

It came straight on, shooting down as if it meant to
leap right into their faces.

The old warrior took another shot at it, and, when
this shot failing like the first, he threw down his rifle, with
@, yell. Joined by the medicine man, he began to run as
‘if all the fiends were after him, followed by a company
of screeching redskins, big and little.

 

Pe O fe IQ

x
5 ,;

~

she said; “Minnie Red-

-

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a

a ye
ee ee Sae ~

 

saps

 

  

her ground when the great bird, swooping to earth, ran
along a few yards and then came to a standstill.

Off at a safe distance, when they, saw that the bird had
alighted, the Indians stopped.

Pie a Re wonder of wonders, out of the very body of the
bird three white people came tumbling, just as if the bird

, had swallowed them, and then, in some miraculous man-

_ ner, had ejected them, living, and apparently unharmed.

   
  
 

 

 

CHAPTER III.
A CURIOUS COMPANY.

- Chip Merriwell and Doc Fisher had seen the Indians
running as the biplane dropped to the ground and came
toa halt. It would have been sufficiently amusing if they

  

Only the pink-cheeked little school-teacher was standing |

had not been so anxious about alighting nately; and had that these young pigeons wouldn't leave there when they

| NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY. 5:

not been fearing that the Indian with the rifle would take
another pot shot at them.

The aviator had drawn his revolver, and he meant to
shoot back in case of need.

When they saw that no'one faced them but a very pretty
and petite young American girl, the aviator put back his
revolver, and Chip and Fisher found it hard to do anything
but stare.

Chip pulled himself together when he saw the girl smil-
ing, and advanced, followed by Fisher.

“This is the Chiricahua reservation?” said Chip.

She informed him that it was, and that she was the
reservation school-teacher.

“I’m sorry that the agent isn’t here to welcome you,”
she said, when Chip had explained. “He has made a trip
to the railway with his wife, and may not return until
late this evening or to-morrow, and the only other white
men we have here are out in the hills, searching for strayed
cattle.”

“You’re not alone here?” said Fisher, amazed.

“I seem to have company right now, and always there
are the Indians,” she added, her bright smile soaking
Fisher’s heart flutter.

“You aren’t afraid?” asked Chip.

“Not in the least; they are my friends.”

From the corner of the schoolhouse Miss Minnie Red-
cloud advanced, Behind her came the medicine man, and
farther back other Apaches. The terrible bird was not
devouring the school-teacher, nor the people who had ap-
peared so miraculously, and for that reason the Indians
were regaining courage.

The medicine man was so strange and fantastic a fig-
ure that Chip and Fisher could not but stare at him.
He wore an old buffalo robe, that had a headpiece of
black and polished buffalo horns, and apparently his only
other garment was a striped blanket. On his feet were
elaborately beaded moccasins. Suspended from his- neck
was a weasel-skin medicine pouch, that was also covered
with much beadwork. He was old and wrinkled, and had
wonderfully piercing black eyes.

The Indian girl, who smiled at Fisher, and had soft
black eyes, held his attention quite as much as the medi-
cine man. She was extremely good looking for an In-
dian. Her braided black hair fell on her shoulders, her
brown cheeks showed spots of pink, and her smile dis-
played rows of perfect teeth.

The aviator, discovering that the Indians did not mean
to attack his party, had turned to his biplane, and soon,
as he tinkered at it, he found himself surrounded by
gesticulating and talking redskins, whose curiosity was eat--
ing them up.

When the aviator found that be was likely to be given ;

much trouble by the needed repairs, that time would be re-

_ quired, and that he faced everi the possibility of failure, he

thought of the pigeons.
“Have either of you fellows a notebook and a pencil?”
he asked. “If we can send one of the pigeons out, we may
be able to get word to the troopers in camp, and perhaps —
we can get help from there.” EE
Chip and Fisher had small notebooks and pencils, but
the paper was heavy and thick. Lear
The aviator regarded it dubiously. an URE
“This is new business with me,” he apologized ; “mayt
we can’t work it. But you know, at the camp they said

    
 

  

    
         
   
     
     
      

      
      
   
 
   
  
  

   
  
  
  
  
   
   
  
   
 

    

tried to send ’em out; so it occurred to me that if they
wouldn’t leave the camp, they might go back to it, if we
let "em go here.

“Gen’rally, maybe always, the writin’ is put on thin
paper, then it’s inclosed in a quill, and tied with fine silk,
or something o’ that kind, to one of the tail feathers, in
such a way that it will not trouble the pigeon and not
catch the wind, and, if it’s writ fine, a good many words
can be put on the paper.”

“T have some thin paper and pencils and pens,” said Miss
Williams; “let me get them for you.”

She saw clearly there would be no more school at the
agency that day; therefore, she might as well enjoy the
enforced’ holiday, and do what she could to help the avia-
tor and his party.

When she returned from the schoolroom she had a
sheet of thin paper and the other things she said she would
bring, and the aviator asked Chip to write the message
and try to get it on as small an amount of paper as he
could.

“T dunno what we’re goin’ to do about a quill to put it
in,” he said. “Maybe it would go all right if just rolled
tight and tied to a tail feather of the pigeon.”

“Some of the Indians have eagle feathers, but I don’t
suppose one of them could be had for love or money,”
Miss Williams informed him. “I have an old quill pen.
‘Would the pen do, I wonder? I’m afraid you can’t get
one of the eagle feathers.”

She found the quill pen in the schoolroom and brought
it out.

“You’re welcome to it, if you can use it,” she said.

So, in a little while, Chip had the message written in
almost mitroscopic letters, and he and Fisher, inclosing it
in a section cut from the hollow shaft of the quill pen,
tied it carefully to a tail feather of the pigeon chosen,
with silk thread Miss Williams brought them.

“This is awfully interesting,” the little school-teacher
' chattered; “and it’s going to be a wonderful help to

“Just how?” said Chip. “Seems to me we’re the ones

getting the. benefit.”

“It will help me, and help the agent, with the Indians;
that’s my meaning. You can’t know how hard it is to get
them interested in things outside of this reservation, very
naturally, for this is their world. It seems to make very
little impression ‘when I teach them, or tell them, about

the wonderful things the white men are able to do, but |

after they have had this practical demonstration, they will
bé more interested. And it will. lessen Brown Beat’s
_ influence.” ‘

“Brown Bear?” said Chip.

“The old medicine man. He is always giving us trouble,
and will so long as he lives.. For two days now he has
made the. agent a lot of trouble, and has nearly driven
“me crazy. One of the Indians is sick in that house near
the school building, and Brown Bear has been trying to
conjure away the wolf that he says the Indian swallowed
in his drinking water. Mr. Neckar expects to bring medi-
 cines for the Indian, and that was his principal reason for
_ driving to the station; si he is looking for trouble from
Brown Bear.”

“Which | house did you say?” asked Fisher, at once in-
ested.

“The one next oe schoolhouse. m

NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY,

is sick?” he inquired.

“Mr.
cold, which he was afraid might develop into pneumonia;
yet that it might be something even more serious.”

“Mr. Neckar is a physician?”

“He has had medical training.”

They were now surrounded by Indians, big and little,
men and women, and as many more were round the aviator
and his big bird, among the latter the medicine man. Min-
nie Redcloud was sticking close beside the little teacher, lis-
tening to everything, seeing everything.

“I don’t know that it will do any good to send out the
pigeon,” said the aviator, coming over, with the Indians
trailing at his heels; “by which I mean, that it may be
farther to the camp than we think, and there’s no trail.
I don’t know if the troopers could get here, over those

hills. Yet we can make a try of it. You told ’em we
were all right, and likely I could make the needed
repairs?”

Chip quoted the message.

“That station of the Denver & Rio Grande to which the
agent has gone is on the line that runs to Durango, and
it’s a good big drive, but we could send a telegram to

Santa Fe from there, and get any help there we needed,

I reckon. We'll have to try that hike, if I can’t get the

biplane to working again.”
He supervised the work of releasing the pigeon, took

it from Chip’s hands, inspected the manner in which the

message had been attached, then held the pigeon aloft

on his open palm.

The young bird was bewildered. It sat there But sud-
denly, as if the crowd that pushed round and stared
had frightened it, the pigeon rose with a flutter and began
to fly about over their heads.

At first it seemed it wanted to return to the cage in
which its mates were held, then it apparently dropped that
intention, rose still higher, swept round a few times, and,
getting its course, began to fly southward.

“Good bird!” the aviator exclaimed.

“It’s possible it may make for Santa Fe rather than
the camp,” Chip suggested.

“We have got to risk that,” said the aviator, and he
turned back to his big. machine.

To the staring Apaches, Miss Williams began to eae,
what had been done, and its reason, and she took the
chance to tell them something about the flying machine
that had come down in their midst. f

“Oh, this is going to help us here a great deal,” she
declared again. “And it will make a subject for talk
for months to come. You’ve no idea how stupid we be-
come down here, so far from everything. Of course, we
get our mail and newspapers and supplies and books; yet,
truly, we’re dreadfully isolated.”

“I’ve been wondering why you accepted ¢ a teaching posi-
tion here,” said Chip thoughtlessly.

It set her fair face flaming. She could not tell him

that, as the sole support of a widowed and invalid mother,

she had taken this position because the better ones seemed

to have been all filled before she put in her application, —

and the need of doing something had come suddenly. Be
“Some one must do it,” she said;

as much as these Indians do?”

“Do you know what is the matter with the Indian who -

Neckar said it was a feverish condition from a

“and, really, is there —
any better work than trying to help people who need feciaa

“That’s a ve spirit,” Fisher declared, pate admiration. -

    
 
 
   

 

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CHAPTER IV.

A RO ‘ DOC FISHER’S BREAK.

It was not in the nature of Doc Fisher to remain away
from the bedside of any one who was ill or suffering.

As soon as the pigeon had gone, and the attention of, the
Indians was being held by the teacher, Fisher dropped back
out of the crowd, unobserved, and walked over to the
house.

Rice Like all the houses occupied by the Indians of the reser-
/f vation, it was a crude affair, of logs and poles daubed
with clay, and the interior was as simple and bare as
the outside.

1 Fisher found the Indian lying on a cot at one end of
the room, unheeded and alone, since the departure of the
medicine man.

Drawing up a stool, Fisher sat down by the cot, looked
at the Indian critically, and felt for his pulse. I+ was easy
to see that the Indian was not only feverish, but was de-
lirious, too.

“That agent is a fool,” he thought, “to permit a medi-
cine man to have his way in a case like this; I would
have locked him in jail! There must be an agency, jail
here.”

’ When he had taken the pulse and respiration, Fisher
produced his medicine case and took out of it his little
thermometer. After closing the case and restoring it to his
; pocket, he cleansed the mercury tube as well as he could
, ‘with water he found in a pail, and placed the thermometer
in the Indian’s mouth. :
As he did this the doorway darkened and the old medi-
_  ¢ine man came in, the beads on his medicine pouch
| _. Jingling.
Bae 6 a's Seeing Fisher bending over the cot, he stopped, in wild
amazement. He saw the end of the thermometer sticking
out of the mouth of the Indian on the cot.
. The cry that rang through the room brought Fisher to
med his feet with a jump. |
ee Fisher was not only startled by that atriazing: screech
cP but by seeing the hideously dressed medicine man rushing
| | down on him, the face below the. shining buffalo horns
| almost maniacal in its wrinkled fury, the medicine man’s
ED hands stretched out like the claws of a wild beast that
meant to tear and rend.
“The sight was enough to make Pisher give a leap that
took him over to the wall beyond.

Dees There, backing into a corner as the terrible figure bore
! down on him, Fisher clenched his. fists ahd made a des-
| perate swing at the hideous face.

In days not long gone by a blow from Doc Fisher’s
hn . fist would not have been of a character to stop or even
| scare anybody. That time had passed. Fisher’s muscles

had rounded and strengthened so much that there was a
good deal of “punch” in his blow. And he had been taught
a few things in that line by Chip Merriwell.
\ > \Fisher’s fist caught the medicine man on the nose—a
big nose, of Roman tendency—with force enough to hurl
_ him off to one side. But the Indian did not fall, and the
way to the door was still blocked. /
_ The net result, apparently, was that the medicine man
was infuriated,.and his nose had been set bleeding.

As the Indian drew back, his nose dripping blood; his
ape baleful, his face working with rage, the thought, was
driven home to Fisher that now was the time to yell for
ame and he yelled.

-
SREY

—_ Ware

», — a

Ae

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The scream of the medicine man that followed, a very
war cry, that flung out over the group of Indians out-
side and. through the village, had something so demoniac
and threatening in it that Fisher again got into the cor-
ner, where a wall on each hand protected him.

He heard a boiling turmoil out by the biplane. His eyes
flicking round, he saw that over the cot was a small glass
window, but that it was closed. He leaped for this,
landing on the cot, as the medicine man made toward
him.

Tearing away the sash, which was set loosely, Fisher
hurled it at the head of the medicine man. He saw it
crash down on top of his bobbing buffalo horns, with a
loud shattering of glass, then hang round his neck like
a grotesque ornament.

The blow stopped the Indian long enough to enable
Fisher to leap into the window opening. He flung through
to the outside as he heard the Indian rush at him again,’
and he felt a hand grazing his heel.

Fisher jumped blindly, landed safely, and was running
as soon as he landed. He turned toward the front of
the house, in the direction of the school building, hop-
ing to rejoin his friends there before the Indian could
follow him through the window.

Chip Merriwell and the aviator had moved upon the
house as soon as they heard Fisher’s call for help, but they
had not reached the door before Fisher appeared at the
corner. ;

Fortunately, at this juncture little Miss Williams took
into her slender hands the guidance of the party, otherwise
the affair would have been at once perilous beyond words. ”

Seeing that the medicine man had been dangerously an-
gered, and would have backing from other Indians, the
teacher began to run toward the largest of the agency
buildings, the one holding the agent’s office and supply
store.

‘“Come quickly!” she called:

The roar of Brown Bear, the flight of Fisher, combined -
with some startling Indian yells, gave emphasis to her
words. All turned toward the agency building, so that in
a minute it resembled a chase and flight, the latter led by
the teacher, the former by the infuriated medicine man.

The aviator had caught up his revolver and his belt |
of cartridges, which he had laid aside as he worked, and
under his arm, ag he ran, he had the cage of pigeons. ‘He
had a shrewd idea that he might need both.

Brown Bear was right at the aviator’s heels as ‘he i
tumbled through the doorway, following Fisher and Chip,
the teacher, and Minnie, Redcloud. Miss Williams was —
standing by the door, and she closed it with’ a quick “
owing and shot the bolt. re

~ Brown Bear, brought up sharply by the satalad of the
door in his face, began to kick on the panels. Pi

The teacher’s face’ was white and scared, but she had
been plucky. Fisher’s face was red, and he looked foolish
and dazed. He saw that he had done an inexcusable thing
on the impulse of the moment, Apparently he had roused
the whole Apache reservation against himself and his
party, judging by the tumult ‘outside.

“Tust because I wanted to help that sick Indian! Wow
The fools aren’t all dead yet.”

“What started it?” Chip demanded.

“I did,” Fisher admitted.
   

  

oe

  

8

‘say,” he added. “Great goats!
kick the door in.”

It was a strong door, and now securely bolted and
locked, and the blows of the medicine man hardly shook
it. The house of heavy logs seemed built to withstand
assault. The windows were high up in the walls.

As Fisher and Chip glanced round, they saw that they
were in a storeroom, the front of it an office. The space
back of the office was filled with shelves holding supplies
of all kinds, and other supplies, in boxes, casks, and
barrels. Seemingly a sample of everything an Indian
could need, or fancy, might be had, from a flaming
blanket to a sack of flour.

“No danger of starving in here, isi Chip com-
mented. “I should think there would be danger that the
Indians would raid a place like this.”

Standing beside the teacher, he voiced this thought to
her as they hearkened to the uproar beyond the walls.

“They'd be afraid to,” she said.

“Afraid of what? There are no guards here.”

“We have some men. I told you they were out hunt-
ing strayed cattle. But the Indians would be afraid of
the troops that would be sent, if they began to raid and
make trouble. They've had more or less experience in
that line, and they wouldn’t want more of it. That’s why
I’ve always felt safe here. But now——

She looked anxiously at the door, on which Denar Bear
was still thumping.

“Minnie, speak to Brown Bear,” she ordered, “and tell
him to stop that. Remind him that he will only make
trouble for himself, that the agent will return soon, and
the men will be in. He knows better than to do that.”

But her voice lacked the ring of confidence. For, though
Brown Bear might know better, he was doing it, and the
Indians, judging by the rising yells, were backing him
in it.

Nevertheless, Minnie Redcloud, stepping up to the door,
delivered her message, shouting it to Brown Bear, giv-
ing her authority as the teacher. /

Somewhat to the surprise of Chip Merriwell, the kick-
ing and hammering on the door stopped. But the In-
dians did not go away, and soon they heard Brown Bear
haranguing them.

Amazement over the sudden turn of affairs still held
Chip. It was a storm out of a clear sky. He was looking
at the Indian girl, wondering if she truly meant to side
with him, or whether, as seemed more likely, she had
hardly known what she was doing as she followed the
teacher, with whom she had been standing when the out-
break came.

Then Chip observed that Miss Redcloud, in returning

 

That medicine man will

from the door, had edged close to Doc Fisher; he won-

dered, im amazement, if she had taken a sudden shine to
Fisher, and that could be the explanation.
_ Chip Merriwell’s laugh, apparently ill-timed and out of

place, rang through the room.

» “It’s funny—I don’t think!” Fisher grumbled, not know-
- ing what had moved Chip to mirth.
nothing. And that sick Indian has got my thermometer in.

“Such a row about

his mouth. What if he swallows it?”,

- Chip laughed again. There was even a nervous giggle
on the part of Miss Williams, —

_ “What do you mean?” said the aviator to Fisher.

“Just that. I was taking his temperature—ke had a.
byrning fever but before I could do it, the. medicine man

\

/

NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY.

   
      
 

hopped in on me. I didn’t have time to get the ther-
mometer. Suppose that Indian swallows it? There is no-
body there to remove it.”

“Not in the present state of affairs, anyhow,” said Chip;
“so we're going to hope that if he swallows it, he'll digest
it. Does any one know,” he looked at the teacher, “if this
thing is likely to be serious?”

“Serious!” she said. “It’s that now, isn’t it?”

The -aviator—he had given his name as Ed Larkins—
dropped his hand instantly to his revolver, and proceeded
to buckle it to his waist.
on the office desk.

“T reckon we're up against a fight,” he declared.
we ain’t got no proper weapons.”

“They’re in there,” said Miss Williams, indicating a
door; “in that other room; rifles and cartridges. We've
hoped they would never be needed.”

“But for a fool named Fisher, they wouldn’t have been,”
Fisher admitted soberly. “But who could have expected a
rumpus like this to come out of nothing?”

“It’s @ serious thing, you know, in the eyes of the older
Indians, to interfere with a medicine man,” she said,
“If the sick man dies, they’ll believe that your interference
killed him.”

“Tt’s likely that he will dig too.
enough to kill a well man.’

Going to the wall, the teacher pressed on a slab, which
fell away, revealing a series of small holes; though no
light came through them.

“Loopholes for rifles,” she explained; “the outer ends of
the holes are plastered over and painted wood color, but the
plaster can be. pushed out with a rifle muzzle. We'll
hope,” she added nervously, “that there will be no need
to use them, so we will not open the outer ends just
yet.”

Then she went to the connecting door, which she un-
locked with a key taken from a shelf, and revealed the
interior of the room beyond, with a number of rifles and
revolvers, with their filled cartridge belts hanging ‘on the
walls. y

“The Indians don’t know, though they may oriash.” dhe.
we have such an armory here,” she said; “I’m hoping that
we can still keep it from them. If the agent returns soon,
or the men get back from the hills, perhaps the Indians
can be pacified.” .

“What a two-ply idiot I’ve been,” Fisher groaned,
realizing more and more what a mess he had stirred up
needlessly.

“T think you were a little indiscreet,”
admitted gently.

“And

That row out there is

the ‘school-teacher

CHAPTER V.
BESIEGED. «

When the hubbub outside continued, and even seemed
gathering in force, Chip Merriwell stood on a stool and
peered out at one of the high windows that lighted the
office and storeroom. .

He could not see directly under the walls, but had a

good view of everything beyond. The Indians the medi- |

cine man was haranguing were packed there, their black

turned on the angry orator, their ears»drinking in

his words as he spoke to them from the steps of the
building. It was not necessary to understand his Mords
to know the Rurport of what he was saying.

The pigeon cage he had set -

     
      
     
   
 
  
  
   
   
    
    
  
  
   
    
  
  
   
  
    
  
  
  
  
   
 
   
  
  
  
   
  
   
    
   
 
  
 
 
  

 

 

 

      
         
       
   
 

 
 

    
      
      

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heat of the body.

“Are they doing anything to my machine?” the aviator
demanded.

Chip looked.

“Not a soul round it,” he reported.

“They may not harm it,” Miss Williams asserted; “I
think it’s likely they will be afraid of it.”

“Friday, the twenty-third,” said the aviator; “they'll tear
it to pieces! I was a fool for undertaking that long Santa
Fe trip on a Friday. I was bankin’ on fixing it up and
getting out of here in it. But now——”

“Kick me again,” said Fisher; “I deserve it.”

“I wasn’t meanin’ you.” :

“That’s all right,” said Fisher; “boot me all you want,
for I deserve it. When I try to play doctor again——”

“Which will be as soon as you find another sick man,”
Chip declared.

“I do feel anxious about that Indian. I wonder if he
has still got my thermometer in his mouth, or has swal-
lowed it?”

Chip climbed down from the window.

“That medicine man seems wound up for a long run,”
he remarked, “and as long as his music holds out there will
be nothing doing. But I wish I knew what he was
saying.”

“What’s he saying, Minnie?” Miss Williams demanded.

Stepping close to the door, the Indian girl listened.

“He is trying to get ’em to burn the house,” she’ an-
nounced gravely.

“That old rooster needs his fire put out,” said the aviator.
“Tll take pleasure in potting him through offe o’ them
loopholes, if they make a move like that.”

“And make it certain that we'll all be killed!” Miss Wil-
liams protested. “You mustn’t do anything.”
“Just let ’em burn us?”

“Tt hasn’t been done yet, and I dbubt,” she added, “that

‘they could set fire to this house readily, for the walls are

of logs and the roof is of slabs.”.
“Likely them slabs would catch fire like punk in this dry
weather.” . - j

Entering the other room, the anxious aviator took down .

some of the rifles and cs ry them.

“Good Remingtons,” he said; “we can pile up some dead
Indians out there, if they crowd us.’

Chip saw Minnie Redcloud give him a wicked look, and.

he wanted to warn the aviator to be more moderate in his
language. It was her kinsfolk and tribal friends he talked

so recklessly about piling up.

“Another fool in this butch,” thought Fisher; “the
aviator hasn’t any more sense than I have, and that’s
going some. We'll be murdered yet.”

“What’s he saying now?” demanded Miss’ Williams of
the Indian girl, nodding toward the door.

Minnie Redcloud listened again by the door.

“Oh,” she exclaimed, as if suddenly eee “he sent
a man into that house, and he brought back that thing
that was in the sick man’s mouth, and he’s showing it to
‘em and telling them it was something put there to kill
him !”

“Then he didn’t swallow it,”
dent relief. |

“What was it like?”

Fisher. remarked, with evi-

Minnie Redcloud asked, eying

Fisher.

“Tt’s a glass tube, with mercury in it, to measure the
I wanted to know how hot the fever
sue

NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY.

 

  

was. You’ve/got to know that to diagnose a case prop-
erly.”

“You are so very wise,
though she didn’t understand the big words;
teacher, I think, sure.”

Fisher flushed as he gave her a return look of inquiry,
but she was again bending to listen.

“And Brown Bear is saying,” she went on, “that if the
man dies on account of it, the spirits will come down
from the hills and destroy all Indians because they do not
punish them what did it.”

When she looked up it could be seen that she had been
frightened, for, if the spirits came down and killed all
Indians, she would suffer with the others. !

“See what you have done,” she said to Fisher reproach-
fully. “Oh, white man—see what you have done now!”

She looked round as if she sought to escape.

“That is foolishness, you know,” urged Miss Williams;
“there are no spirits in the hills.”

“Brown Bear knows very many things that white people
do not,” the Indian girl declared. “Maybe it is so—
what he says. And if it is so——”

The excitement outside had grown with the exhibition
of the terrible and death-dealing instrument that Fisher
had thrust into the mouth of the sick man. They crowded
to look at it, as the wily old medicine man held it up, but
they would not touch it.

“Minnie,” said Miss Williams, “you must go out there
and tell them what it is—what it: was used for. Make
them see how foolish they are. Tell them the white boy
meant no harm; that he was trying, in fact, to. help
the sick man. Can’t you‘do that, Minnie?”

“For him I will,” answered Minnie Redcloud;
not want that he should be killed.” .

“You're all right, Miss Minnie,” said Fisher, carrying it
off gayly, though his face flushed like fire.

Taking the Indian girl into the cellar, Miss Williams
showed her a grated hole, like a coal hole, through which
wood was stored in there, and showed her, also, how. it
was secured on the inside by iron bars.

” said Miss Redcloud admiringly,
“wiser aS

oF do

“If you want to come in again, rap on the irons, oa
V’ll come down here and let you in,” said the teacher.
“Now I’m going to-let you out by the front door,. These
white people are honest and. mean well, and you must
tell your. friends so,. Tell them that the agent will
be back soon, and they’re only getting themselves into
trouble. I shall trust you to do this, Minnie.”

“For you I will,” the Indian. girl declared, “and for. thie
boy with the glass on his nose, but not for that man. who
talked about shooting. Maybe Brown Bear will. kill him

et,” she added, with a fiery snap of her black eyes. —

“There is to be no\killing of anybody,” the teacher re-
monstrated. “Don’t forget that. The boy you mean can
help that sick man, and that was all he tried to do. Brown
Bear is doing a silly thing, and those who listen to him ©
are as foolish as he is. You saw those rifles in there,
Minnie; tell them that we have rifles in here.”

Minnie Redcloud followed her soberly upstairs and to_ ns

the door, and she suddenly leaped out when Miss Williams _
opened it. As soon as she wes out, the teacher hastily —
closed and bolted the door.
’ The Indians had not anticipated this movement, and
Minnie Redcloud was standing beside Brown Bear before.
they could recover from their amazement, and the door |
had been saveed behind her.

 

 

 

 

    
 

   
    
     
  
      
  

Those within heard the Indian girl speaking. The medi-
cine man had for the moment stopped his harangue. But
those within the house could not tel what she was say-
ing, for she spoke in the language of her people.

“A remarkably bright Indian girl,” said Miss Williams,
forgetting her annoyance of a short while before over
her inability to make Minnie Redcloud understand the true
inwardness of the European situation.

Yet that may have been because she was realizing her-
self how far off Europe is and how pressing were the
things that immediately concerned her.

In a short time it began to seem that it had been a
tactical mistake to release Minnie Redcloud from the
building. Apparently her presence in it had kept the In-
dians from active belligerency. For now, when Chip
Merriwell climbed again to the window, to look out, a bul-
let smashed through the window casing close by his
head.

Chip. dropped to the floor.

When another. bullet came through the door, flicking past
the aviator, the latter pulled his revolver and sent a return
shot, though he was cautious enough to shoot so high that
he. would not. hit any one.

A lull followed.

The medicine man hopped down from the steps, to get
out of the way of lead, and the shouting Indians drew off
to. a distance, beyond the biplane.

“Now see what you’ve done!” the teacher flared at the
aviator. “That kind of work only maddens them, and
you'll get us all killed.”

Her face was white.

The aviator knew he had been too impulsive and had
done wrong, but the whistle of the bullet past his ear had
caused him to lose his head. He looked round, a bit scared
by the ominous silence, but did not apologize.

“got to get
I s’pose you ain’t got another quill

“We've got to try another pigeon,” he said;
word to the troopers.
pen ?”

She had none. But she had more of the thin paper.
She rummaged round in the storeroom to find: something
that could be made into a close imitation of a quill.

“We can let the pigeon out at one o’ the windows,”
_ said the aviator. “If it goes, the troopers will have news
of things mighty quick, and they'll get here, somehow.
Your Indians out there are going to be piehty sorry if
pies ‘start trouble.”

The best that could be done in the way of an imitation
-’ quill was a tiny cylinder of paper, into which the message

_ that Chip Merriwell wrote was nite This was tied to
the pigeon.

Bagh “That back window will be better to release it from,”

to “said the aviator.

Chip took the pigeon and climbed to the high window,

which ‘Miss Williams instructed him how to open. There

he threw the pigeon out, and watched it circle round as

it rose to get its bearings.

_ . But, even as Chip watched it from the sian, a gun
sounded, and the pigeon fell fluttering.

Peering through the window at the risk of being shot

» Chip saw that a young Indian stood there with a shot-

n in his hand, neagg for another pigeon, if one was

  

ee ee Le

NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY.

when Chip dropped down and informed him that the
pigeon had been shot by one of the Indians.

“We're gone, then,” he said hoarsely, and his eyes be-
came wild; “Friday, the twenty-third!”

CHAPTER VI.
LOVE AND JEALOUSY.

Love and hate and jealousy works in the hearts of In-
dians as in those of others. It was not mere chance that
had posted the young Indian with his shotgun by the
building. He had been watching the windows on both
sides, hoping to see in one of them the big glasses of Doc
Fisher.

Instead, he had seen the pigeon flung out, and, thinking
it boded no good, he had promptly brought it down, and
stood ready to bring down another if it appeared.

And it was all because Minnie Redcloud.had been too
passionately earnest in her appeals.

Many Lightnings was the English translation of the
young Indian’s name, a’'name given to him by his people
because he had once, and for a period of time, gone about
with a repeating rifle that could send bullets faster than
an Indian could think, with flashes of fire and loud re-
ports that suggested thunder and lightning.

The dangerous rifle had been taken away from him by
an Indian agent, but not until he had gained a name that
was destined to stick, and a name which, after the Indian
fashion, displaced entirely the one he had borne before
that time.

How he had come into possession of the shotgun and
cartridges no ohe knew, except his closest friends. Very
likely he had stolen it. And he kept it concealed so
that the agent might not know about it, Now he had
brought it out, and used it. ;

The appearance of firearms in the hands of the Indians

was no great surprise to Minnie Redcloud, though it was

to Miss Williams. Minnie Redcloud knew : / Many things
of which Miss Williams was densely ignorant.
In her appeal to old Brown Bear and to other Indians,

Minnie had placed too much emphasis on Fisher, the’

white boy who had thrust the deadly glass thing into the
mouth of the sick man.

It seemed natural, and the right thing to Miss Batiead
to speak strongly of the boy who wore the big glasses,
and even to plead for him, for he was the one who had
started all the trouble. But it was too much when she
brought her appeal to Many Lightnings.

For Many Lightnings was in love with the brighteyed
Indian girl, and at once he became insanely jealous. —

“You would protect him, so that you may keep him here
and marry him,” he said bluntly; “I am not a blind mole,
nor even a gopher burrowing under the ground.”

“Listen,” she said: “It is not so. I am but thinking of _
my people.
never marry you, as I once said I would, a ise I was
a. fool for saying I would.”

“T will kill him myself; 1—”

“Listen! He is here for but a little while. Then he

will go away in the big bird that brought him Pr Me RET hg fi.

“And you will be sorry?”
“I do not like you any more, Many tigi po
“Because he has come! That white-faced bat, who can-_

not see unless he looks through window glass. T have been — | a

watching you lately. You have not ee kind to me,

Sin Se Fo PS See
La SOR ee gE
pangs

peice?

If you become a fool, Many Lightnings, I will i

gy Hel er PRS.

cial gee fea es:

Stele

 

 

      
     
   
 

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cine man, who was still haranguing.

You are in love with the school-teacher, who is trying
to make all Indians into white people. You are in the
school every day, with your nose in a book. But what
do you learn? How far off the moon is; as if one wanted
to go there; and how big the sea is, when we shall never
see it! And while you are learning that, you are forget-
ting all the wisdom of the Indians; you even laugh at
Brown Bear, who has more sense in his little finger than
all the white teachers and agents put together have in
their heads. You are in love with the white people, and
now you are in love with -

Minnie Redcloud turned from him indignantly.

“Go!” he cried hoarsely ; “go join with the white people,
for your heart is no longer red.”

She turned back.

“Listen! I go to the school because I am not yet old
enough not to; so I must. And, as for the white boy
with the big glasses, 1 never saw him before to-day.”

“Bah!” said the infuriated lover. “Go and marry him!
They say the agent will be here soon. He is a preacher,
as well as an agent. He can marry you to the blind white
boy. Tell the agent about it as soon as he comes.”

Minnie Redcloud’s patience snapped.

“T will!’ she cried, with a sputter like the spitting of an
angry cat. “I will do what you say. I will tell the white
boy that I love him, and the agent will marry us. Many
Lightnings, I hate you, I hate you!”

She ran from him.

Many Lightnings strode/ away angrily, and proceeded
to dig his old shotgun and his loaded shells out of a
heap of rocks, in which he had concealed them; then he
took his station by the building, and brought down the
pigeon when it appeared.

The Indians who witnessed the clever shot and saw the
pigeon. come fluttering to the ground, sent up loud yells,
though they hardly knew why they yelled, for they did not,
at the moment, understand why it had seemed desirable
to shoot the bird. But it was one of the birds*the white
people had brought in a cage; and when they had picked
it up they looked at it curiously and talked excitedly, for
they had never seen a bird like it.

Then they discovered the paper cylinder tied to a tail
feather, and found in it the paper with writing.

One of the girls who attended the school was sum-
moned.

“Read this,”
hands.

After some hesitation, and with difficulty, she read what
Chip Merriwell had written:

 

said Many Lightnings, putting it in her

“TTEUTENANT Gorpon: We are surrounded in the Chiri-
cahua agency building by Indians who are trying to kill us,
and are ready to burn the house. Come at once.

“Ep Larkins, Aviator.”

Many Lightnings had been above the school age for
some time, and when he had attended the agency school
he had not learned much, so he had not been able to read
the message, yet he was sharp enough to understand
what it meant. .

“A writing for the troopers,” he said; “for the soldiers
with the long shooting irons, The bird I shot was to take
it to them, and then we would have been killed here.”

His black eyes flamed in anger.

With the writing in his hand he went up to the medi-

NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY.

   

“Listen!” he said, so that all could hear him.

When the medicine man stopped, Many Lightnings re-
cited the message word for word, as if~he read it.

Old Brown Bear took it and stared at it, and, announced
that what Many Lightnings had said was true, though the
old rascal could not tell one letter from another.

“They will bring the soldiers with the long shooting
guns,” he said, “and we shall all be killed together.”

In a rage the Indians who had guns began to shoot at
the agency building, and scores of bows and arrows ap-
pearing—they came suddenly from under many Indian
blankets—a pattering fire of bullets and arrows beat on
the door and on the roof.

In a lull of the firing, the door flew open, and the
school-teacher leaped down the steps.

Those in the building with her had not known she
meant to do this, nor had they even thought of it. Stand-
ing by the door, she had suddenly thrown it open, then
had passed out before she could be stopped or questioned.

A bullet flying into the room over her head buried itself
in a log of the back wall, and the aviator closed the door
promptly and bolted it.

“A fool thing to do,”
got one of us!”

“But the girl—Miss Williams,”
her !”

“Maybe not,” said the aviator; “she ought to know what
she’s doing. But they might have got one of us. They
will, too, sooner or later, for this is Friday, the twenty-
third.”

“Oh, drop that!” Fisher growled. “And it isn’t the
twenty-third. Your dates are twisted, and you’re a——”
But he stopped before he had said the word “fool.”

Chip Merriwell sprang to the stool, climbed to the win-
dow on that side, and looked out, not drawing back even
when a bullet cut into the window over his head.

“She’s talking to them,” he announced, as he dropped
down. “I hope she can do something with that crazy
push. Yet I’m sorry she risked it.”

“She’s got grit,” said Fisher.

He was thinking that the aviator was a coward, until
he recalled his feats in the biplane.

he grated; “that bullet might have .

said Chip; “they'll kill

After all, he saw that courage means a different thing
to different men. A man who was daring enough to
loop the loop in a biplane, as this man had done more
than once over Santa Fe, was afraid of Friday, the twenty-
third. And Miss Williams’ courage was bolstered by her
belief that the Indians were still her friends.

_ CHAPTER VII.
THE MEDICINE MAN’S STAND.

The influence of the little school-teacher was still great
enough to keep any Apache from taking a shot at her
as she appeared on the steps of the agency building.

They even looked at her with something like anxious —
surprise, and the wordy talk of the old medicine man came
to an abrupt stop as she sprang lightly down the steps
and went toward him.

Miss Williams could not understand Apache, but there a
were few Indians there who could not, in a manner, under- |

* stand English, even if they could not speak it, which was —

the case with some of the older ones.
They knew her as a spirited young white woman, who
had undertaken the work of teaching ‘their ee and

e }

 
 
     
   
  
   
  

had been so successful that she had gained the good will
of nearly all of them, even when they did not absorb much
of the information she ladled out daily in rather over-
large doses, And she had been invariably kind to every-
body, to the old men and women as well as the children.
Even for the old medicine man, Brown Bear, whom she
feared, she always had a smile and a pleagant word.

That she feared him was not apparent in Miss Wil-
liams’ manner as she approached him.

“Brown Bear,” she said, when she came within speak-
ing distance, for the bulk of the Indians were over beyond
the aéroplane, “cannot this be stopped?”

The medicine man’s answer was a wild stare; her dar-
ing in stepping out into danger had amazed him.

“The White Lily had better go back to her people—in
there,” he said, pointing to the agency building.

“And be killed?” she snapped at him, understanding the
meaning of that pointing finger. “Some of your people
have been shooting at it, and we have heard talk of
setting it on fire. Do I want to be roasted?”

There was a murmur among the Indians, but whether it
indicated friendliness or the opposite she did not know; yet
her manner. did not change. :

Her cheeks were pale, her eyes flashing, as she turned
to the Indians.

“IT am your friend,” she reminded; “and I love your
children, and—all of you. So I beg of you not to go
on in this way. The white people in there are not your
enemies, and they would not harm one of you. As I
understand it, the big bird, as you call it, that brought
them here, did so without their intention. They wanted
it to go in the other direction, but it ran away.”

Many of the Indians looked at the “big bird” as if they
feared it might start up again, and perhaps do. something
desperate. They were:still very much afraid of it, as a
thing they could not understand.

“Oh, I have told you and your children so many, many
times,” the little teacher urged, “that the white people
are your friends. They wish you well, and are only try-
ing to help you, by sending me and Mr. Neckar here.
_ Mr, Neckar is here to advise with you. You take your
troubles to him, and he settles them for you; and on the
agency days he gives you the food you must have. The
- Great Father has told us to come here and do these things
for you. If the white people were not your friends, would
_ the Great White Father do it?”

_ She was evidently making an impression, and the medi-
cine man did not like it.

_ Justice must be done to old Brown Bear, however, by
stating that what he did, and was doing, was right, from
his standpoint. He \was afraid of the new ways that were
being introduced by the white people. _

- He would recall when his tribe was larger and stronger,
and he had seen it weakening year by year. He was a
patriot, trying to save his people from what he feared was
final extermination.. He could remember when the In-
dians were powerful in the Southwest; when the Utes
overran Colorado; even when there were many Indians
‘and buffaloes on the plains, where now there was not an
‘Indian or buffalo. .

_. He had been told that once, from ocean to ocean, the
ians owned and ruled this whole country. Yet, when

12 NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY.

many thousands of white men, with their great and ter-

rible noisy cities on all sides of hirn, so that he was al-

most frightened, and was glad to get back to the little
reservation the white men allowed his tribe to occupy now,
when once they had been privileged to roam wherever they
willed.

In addition to what he had seen and knew, he had the
natural feeling of old people, that the old ways and the
old days were the best the world ever saw or ever will
see, and that the new things and the new fashions aré
ruining everything.

This feeling possessed him now, as he listened to the
sweet voice of the white woman, and saw how it swayed
his friends, especially those who were’ young in years.

It terrified him.

At his feet lay the little tube of mercury, a strange and

terrible weapon, mysterious, as everything the white men.

made was mysterious; a thing found in the mouth of the
sick man. Why had it been put there, if not to kill
him?

It lay at his feet, broken; and he was afraid of it. But
when, for safety, he had shaken his medicine pouch over
it, he picked it up, trembling as he did so, for he knew
not what dreadful tragedy might happen if he but
touched it.

In his lean and wrinkled brown fingers he held it up
so that all could see it. His buffalo-horn headpiece swayed
and his buffalo robe trembled.

“This is the answer I make to the White Lily,” he said,
in his native Apache. “She says the white people who
came among us to-day, riding in the strange bird, are
our friends. Yet one of them put this in the mouth of
Black Antelope, to kill him, even if he claims it is not
so.” Bt

The response was an angry roar.

“In it was some strange and deadly thing, that looked
like silver, yet flowed like water. I know not what it
was. But it was a poison of the white man. He is cun-
ning as the fox, and deadly as the rattlesnake. Oh, my

people”—his voice broke in a sob—‘perhaps the deadly
thing that looked like silver and ran like water would not
_ only have killed our friend Black Antelope, but would

have spread here among us a disease. Then my friend
Gray Panther would have died, and my friend Swaying
Wind would have fallen dead, and all of you would have

‘gone swiftly down to the graves of your fathers. As

for me,” his voice shook again, “it does not matter, for I
am but an old man and weak, and, my days are few.”

The little teacher tried to me but the Indians yelled.

her to silence.
“We shall all die—in the dod ” said the old olan sol-
emnly; “but if we are to die, let us die in peace, or like
brave men, defending ourselves and striking hard at the
foe who assails us.’
The answer was a howl of approval.

“They say the Great White Father has soldiers and a
guns. How long have we not heard this? Yet they can

no more than kill us! This might have killed us. And if
we are to be no more than Indians changed into white
men, mumbling over books or slaving for a little money,

let us die at once, and I shall thank the bullet that sends ye.

me out of such a life. I have spoken.”

anger,

   
 
 
 
 
   
    
 
   
    
   
    
  
   
  
  
   
  
    
   
 
 
    
   
 
   
   
  
   
 
 
   
   
  
  
    
   
  
  

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The howls changed to screams of approval and of ha ‘

A gun ge and a bullet cut t through the door ir of

     
 

 

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at don’t think so.
keep them from fighting if those men come.
be no trouble at all if Mr. Neckar can get here soon.

‘ - Wiltinta Waterman dropped aside, into their midst. But

the agency building. Arrows began to fly, and the little
teacher, with face like the seal of death, fell back, as if
she feared guns and bows would be turned at once in her
direction,

Yet she was not molested.’ Brown Bear’s quarrel was
not with her, but with the one who had thrust the terrible
glass tube into the mouth of the sick man.

As she retreated, she found that she was not alone.
Some of the school children clung round her, sobbing, and
even some of the older boys and girls, the boys strapping
fellows, swung round her as if they meant to be her honor
guard if worst came to worst.

The little teacher was crying.

Seeing the bullets cutting into the door, and the arrows
beating vainly on it, Miss Williams drew still farther
away, surrounded by her young Indian friends.

When she stopped, an idea had come to her, and she
looked about.

“William Waterman,” she said to one of the older boys,
“IT want to speak with you.”

Though that was his name on the school books and in
the agency records, it was not the name given to him
by his people.

This matter of renaming Indians by agents and school-
teachers is peculiar. Because they do not like the Indian
names, or cannot pronounce them, new names are given.

When the boy the teacher called William Waterman
was a little fellow, he had amused himself often by stand-
ing on a board in shallow places in the little river and push-
ing it about with a pole. When. it had become such a
custom that the Indians always thought of it in connec-
tion with him, they began to call him Walk-on-the-water,
and that became thenceforth his name.

The agent changed it to Waterman, and gave him the
first name of William, just as he had given Minnie for
the first name to the schoolgirl whose only name had been

-Redcloud, or, rather, the Apache equivalent of Redcloud.

The tall boy who came forward was an intelligent-look-
ing young fellow, who had once told Miss Williams that
it was his ambition to become a student at the Carlisle
Indian School in the East, and for that reason the little
teacher had given him a good deal of her attention.

“William,” she said, “do you know where the men who
went out after strayed cattle are likely to be found?”

“Not sure,” he answered; “maybe over in there.” He
pointed.

“Well, won’t you go and find them,” she urged; “tell

them how it is here, and to come at once? Tell them to

send one of their number off on the trail to the railway,
to meet Mr. Neckar, so that he will hurry. The others
must hurry here as fast as they can.”

The boy was pleased with this show of confidence, she

could see; yet he stood in hesitation.

"You don’t want to go?” she said. “Why, William?”
- “Teacher may need me here,” he objected.
“T feel perfectly safe, William.”
“There will be fight when the men come »
I don’t want any fighting. It will
There will

You will go, William? re
“Tf teacher says.”
“I do. Go at once, William.” |
| That the Indians generally might not catch his purpose,

   

NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY. | 13

a little later the teacher and those with her caught sight
of his bobbing hat as he climbed into the hills and dis-
appeared.

“It is all I can do,” said Miss Williams, with a sigh.
“You must keep close by me, children,” she urged;. “and
off here, at one side, so mone of these arrows and bullets
can hit us.”

She had not thought she could be so strengthened by
the presence of these Indian school children.

CHAPTER VIII.
ARROWS OF FIRE,

But for Chip Merriwell, the aviator would have seized a
Remington when the Indians reopened fire on the agency
office and store and returned the fire.

“No,” said Chip, “don’t shoot through that loophole,
for, if you do, we'll all be killed in here, without mercy.
Put down your gun.”

The aviator was a full-grown man and-considered him-
self the leader of the party, and Chip was but a stripling,
yet there was something in Chip’s tone and manner that
drove him to obedience.

“We'll be killed in here,” he protested; “our only chance
is to make so hot a fight that they’ll be afraid to charge
us.”

“I don’t think so,” said Chip; “we’ve still got a good
fighting chance for our lives. Miss Williams is expecting
the agent and the herders to appear now at any time. Be-
sides,” he added, by way of a clincher, “if you go to
shooting at those Indians they’re likely to be so enraged
that they will kill Miss Williams, even if they can’t get
at us.”

“T thought of that,” said Fisher, backing Chip; “we must
not put her in any more danger than.she is in right now.
That would be a shame, for one risking her neck out
there for us.”

The aviator dropped his gun.

“Keep away from the door,” said Chip,
right.”

“We're to stand here and do nothing if they try to
charge the door?”

“They haven’t done that yet.”

Having pushed himself forward, or been’ pushed for- —
ward by circumstances, from that moment on, Chip Mer-
riwell assumed the leadership. He had stood back be-

“and you're all

cause the aviator was a man, and, presumably, more ex- __

perienced, but now the aviator had lost his head.

“It’s not our house they’re shooting into,” Chip remarked ©
philosophically, “and that door isn’t ours. Let them whang ©
away. If they do no more than knock splinters off the
door, we’re all right.

can straighten out those fellows and make ’em see some
sense. Then she may be able to do something herself.”
So they settled down to bide their time. They were in
little or no danger so long as they stood well back from —
the range of the bullets that raked through the door.
Leaving Fisher and the aviator, Chip prowled through |
the storeroom, to learn its capabilities and what it held.
He was much cheered on discovering that it seemed fitted —
and stocked to resist an attack or withstand a siege. It
had everything needed, not only rifles and ammunition and —
food, but a well, with a pump, and, cut off from the rest,
at one end, there were bedrooms and pont room,

       
       
      

That agent will get here some time,
and Miss Williams was sure that when he does come, he

 
       
     
     
     
     
       
   
     
      
 

  
   
  

   

Descending into the cellar, he found more supplies of
various kinds. Not that they had been stored for a siege,
but they were kept as supplies for the Indians.

Chip inspected the grating over the hole by which wood
was thrown into the cellar, and observed the strong iron
rods that clutched it from the inner ‘side, so that it could
not be lifted from the outside.

“Whoever built this, or planned it,” thought Chip, “went
on the theory that all was going to be peaceful and happy
down here, but that in a time of peace one should pre-
pare for war. The preparations look good to me. If we
can hold the aviator down, we'll probably pull out of this
all right. Yet if he should shoot a single Indian, I’d ex-
pect to see them tear down that door sage come in on us,
in spite of all we could do.”

He said as much when he went back with his report of
his discoveries.

Nevertheless, it was found trying to sit there through
the long hours and listen to the angry Indians outside
and hear, now and then, the. report of a gun, the tearing
of the ball through the splintered door, and the rap-
rap of arrows on the slabs of the roof.

More than once, when the aviator became unduly
alarmed, he would have begun to reply with his Reming-
ton, if both Chip and Fisher had not told him, with
much emphasis, that he must not do it, and that he would
not live long if he did.

‘ The shooting with rifles almost ceased as the after-
noon wore away, showing, they thought, that the Indians’
limited supply of cartridges was nearing exhaustion.

But the patter of the arrows kept up.

Now and then Chip ventured to look through one of the
windows on that side.

At one such time he discovered that Indian boys were
cutting willows by the stream and carrying the slender
beughs up to the house.

This puzzled Chip, until he saw some of the Indian
men seize the rodlike poles and begin to shape them into
blunt-headed arrows.

“They can’t do anything with those clubs of arrows,”
Chip declared, when he descended from the window and
reported it.

Yet, as darkness came on, the discovery was made that
the Apaches were preparing for some unpleasant fire-
works: Cotton comforters, furnished by the government,
were carried out of the houses, and cans and jugs
appeared.

The Indians had moved back, and seemed to be -prepar-

- ing to avoid return shooting by getting where we could

screen themselves behind log houses.

From his window, Chip saw them tear cotton a of the
comforters and tie little balls of it to the blunt ends of
the willow arrows, and he saw these cotton-ended arrows
dipped in the jugs and cans.

Suddenly the truth flashed on him. The cans and jugs
held kerosene, and the attempt was to be madé now, with
: night at hand, to set fire to the roof of the agency build-

ing by shooting on it quantities of these kerosened arrows.

_ Chip was frightened by what he saw, but he did not

lose self-control. The situation had never been so seri-

ous. What good would rifles and unlimited supplies within
the house do if the house itself was burned?

_ Apparently the Apaches, dominated now by the old medi-

cine man, had gone battle crazy, which is always a thing

to be feared in dealing with uncivilized and uneducated In-

 
  
 
 

NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY.

dians. Whatever opposition had been made by their own
people had been swept aside, and Brown Bear and the
older Apaches were having their way.

Chip recalled the massacre by the Utes at Meeker, over
in Colorado, when the Utes ran amuck there and the agent
and others were killed.,

Where was Neckar? Where were the herders who had
gone after the cattle?

On dropping down from the window, Chip did not re-
port what he had seen, fearing its effect on the. aviator.
He took Doc Fisher aside, on the pretense of showing
him some medicines he had discovered on a shelf in the
storeroom.

“I just wanted to get you out of here for a little talk,”
said Chip, “for the situation is hurrying to the breaking
point.”

Then he acquainted Fisher with his discovery.

For a moment Fisher looked dazed.

“Nothing to hinder them, judging by what you say,
Chip—nothing to hinder them from piling a brush heap
of burning arrows on the roof, and, if they do, and the
roof is dry” as punk, as the aviator says—well, I suppose
we're gone.”

“Not at all,” Chip assured.

“Why not® And it’s all my fault, I’ve no right to be
rushing into every sick room, even if there isn’t a doctor
to be had; I’m no doctor. I’ll be arrested some time for
offering to practice medicine without a license.”

Chip gurgled a cheering laugh.

“That shows you think we'll get out of here. We have
to get out before you can be arrested! I’m still hoping
for that agent.”

“The Indians have stopped him somewhere, and those

herders are afraid to come in.
some time, but wouldn’t speak of it.

I’ve been of that opinion
I didn’t dare to,

for that aviator has had the willies all afternoon. I won-

/ der what is happening to Miss Williams?” ;
“And Miss Minnie Redcloud ?” /
“Bother Miss Minnie! She’s safe, of course. I’m anx-

ious about Miss Williams, though:, You didn’t see her out
there?”

Chip -had not seen her.

As the darkness deepened, the burning arrows began to
fly. a
Chip watched them from the high window, and could
have enjoyed them if their message had ‘been different,
for they furnished a pretty and novel form of fireworks.

A blunt-headed arrow that was on fire fluttered through
the broken window by him, and, after striking the oppo-
site wall, fell to the floor.

Chip dropped down to get it, to see if it had any special
significance. Fisher had picked it up.

“There’s a paper wrapped round it,”
“Perhaps a message.”

Chip got one of the lamps he had located previously, id
lighted it. While all stood back for safety, he cut the
string that held the paper to the head of the arrow, and

he announced,

read:

“I am coming in by the front door. Be ready to open Ui"

as soon as 1 am there. This is important, .One of my boys
will shoot this arrow in. Miss WitttaMs.” .

Chip gave the note to the aviator, and moved: over by
the door.
“Look out that a bullet don’t get you,”

5
wh

   

the‘ avia e

     
   
     
     
    
   
  
   
  
   
 
  
   
   
  
   
  
    
   
  
  
  
   
  
  
  
    
    
   
   
  
  
 

 

 

 

    
   
       
           
       
       
   
   
       
       
  
     
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Baer a

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+ oe ey «ee CAS Liane SO

 

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a it aes the advisable thing,

NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY. 15

warned, as he looked the note over. “Or, this may be a
trick. #0 get us up by the door, where we can be killed
easy.”

“Miss Williams wrote it,’ said Fisher.

“Maybe so; but you never saw her handwritin’. And
this is hoodoo day—don’t forget it! Friday, the twenty-
third! We'll never get out o’ here. They’re tryin’ to
set fire to the roof now, and they’re going to do it, for
it will burn like punk when they get it started.”

“Take a brace,” said Fisher.

_ Chip, waiting by the door, soon heard a patter of run-
ning feet. In spite of the danger, he leaped to the door,
had the bolt back and the door unlocked, and was swing-
ing it open, when Miss Williams appeared there.

She came right in, running. As Chip closed the door, a
rifle ball smashed through it by him.

“Perhaps that lamp is safe,” said Miss Williams breath-
lessly, “but keep it well back, I knew you would be
ready, or I shouldn’t have dared it.”

“You were no longer safe out there?” said Fisher,
“Yes, I was safe; but you aren’t. That is, I was safe as
long as I made no moye to help you. I’ve been doing
what I could quietly, though it has amounted to nothing.
I sent one of my boys to find the herders, but he came
back without doing it. I’m afraid he didn’t go far.”

“The herders know about this, and are afraid to come

in,’ the aviator snarled.

“I think you're right,” she admitted.

“And now those devils out there are going to burn the
house over our heads!”

“Again I think you are right,” she said.

She was breathing heavily, having made a wild dash
to reach the door, and she leaned weakly against the
wall, until Chip brought a chair for her.

“Oh, I’m not tired,” she said, when Chip produced it;
“just excited, and—and scared. I never would have be-
lieved anything like this could have happened.”

She turned to Chip, as if naturally recognizing his leader-
ship in this emergency.

“Something has got to be done,” she said.

“We're ready to do anything you say,” he assured her;
“you. know the situation far better than we. do. - bs tell

us what you think best to do.”
- “Well, I’ve been thinking it over. There must be a diver-
sion of some kind. The Indians can think of nothing now
but burning this building. They’re a one-idea people. If
this plan of mine is approved, your aviator will have to
carry it out.”

“What is it?” he said hoarsely. :

“It’s just this: The Indians are very much afraid of
your big bird. So I wondered if it could be run into them
someway. Oh, I’m afraid it can’t be done!
what I thought of.
do it—if it can be done.”

“Of, course he won't,” the aviator said, backing away.

_ "Go out there into the midst of those red devils? I guess
not.”

ee CHAPTER IX.

CHIP MERRIWELL’S DARING.
‘The thing that the aviator was afraid to do, Chip Mer-

rh riwell stood ready to attempt, not in a spirit of reckless-

ness or bravado, but for the reason that, on due considera-

But that’s ‘
Of course, the aviator will have to.

 

There could be no doubt that if something was not
done’ to stop the heaping up of burning arrows on the
roof, the agency building would soon be set on fire.

The aviator’s unwillingness really pleased both Chip and
Fisher, for the aviator was now not the man for it; hoo-
doed by his superstition, he would have bungled the effort,
got himself killed, and no one would have benefited, and
the really clever scheme would have been brought to
naught.

While urging that whoever tried it was doing an idiotic
thing, the aviator was yet willing to explain all that it was
needful for Chip to know. There would be no real need
to start the motor, he said, though he explained how it
was to be done, and how shut off.

“The way the old bird is restin’, it can be started to
rollin’ over the grass easy, as it has wheels instead of
runners. If it don’t start up easy by giving it a push,
then turn on the motor, just give the propeller a whirl
with your hand—it’s all the crankin’ that’s needed. Only
trouble is that after gliding along the ground a few

yyards she'll begin to rise, to fly; but you can prevent that

by shuttin’ off the motor; then the momentum. she’s got
will keep her moving along a while. But—I advise you
hot to try it.”

Chip had found Indian blankets among the stores, and
selected one, The only weapon he took was a small re-
volver, dropped it into his pocket, and he questioned if he
ought even to take that. Still, if pinched in a corner,
it might save his life.

Miss Williams and Doc Fisher went down into the cel-
lar with him, and he crawled out by the wood hole, in
the darkness.
he was shut out. But they were to be there to let. him
in when he came back.

Daring as. Chip was, and serious as was the necessity,
he could not repress a queer thrill when he was outside
in the darkness, hearing the yelling of the Apaches more
loudly than ever, wondering if Indians were near him,

and seeing in the black sky, over his head, the flaming .

arrows go shooting over the roof, those of them that
missed it, and dropping down in the grass some distance
away. 1!

He moved slowly and used caution.

he saw that a number of arrows lay burning on the roof,
though the slabs did not yet seem to have caught fire. °
Chip had been given careful directions by Miss Williams,

and he followed them, moving well to the south of the —
agency buildings before attempting to )- work round to the

point where the biplane lay.

The. darkness helped Chip in executing this maneuver,
Apparently all the Indians were in front, and were giving —
their whole attention to the arrow shooting and to watching

the roof. When an arrow landed and remained on the
roof, their yells broke out,

The Indians were becoming bolder.

the buildings.

Chip was not able to discover, what was now the fact, "
that only a few Indians were making this demonstration ©
and the others were merely looking on, swayed between —
their ancient savage desires and their fear of the con-
sequences, But these latter were not doing anything to stop

 

the more Enis and were not Bcshy to do aegthinge:, ha

When they hooked the rods on the screen,

As he got far- _
ther out, still using the bulk of the building as a screen,

er. They had come
out from behind the log houses, and were in a, mass be-
fore them, and they could have been raked by firing aoe,

     
    
  
    
   
  
   
  
 
 
 
 
 
    
    
  
   
   
  
  
  
 
   
  
  
  
    
   
   
  
  
  
    
   
   
  
  
  
  
   
  
  
   

MN

_ howls of: fright.

caught in the wires,

  

16

When he had swung round far enough, Chip Merriwell
got the big biplane between himself and the Apaches, as
a screen for his advance, and came cautiously up to it, so
hooded in his blanket that probably he wouldehave been
taken for an Indian if he had been seen.

Chip’s maneuver having been successful, he crept between
the vanes and gained the aviator’s seat.

Here he felt round until he had familiarized himself
with everything required, recalling carefully all the in-
structions of the aviator,

Swinging out of the seat, he tried to set the biplane in
motion; for the aviator had said it was at-rest on a
gentle slope, and if it could be set going it would slide at
least a short distance on its supporting wheels.

Chip found that by hard pushing he could move it, but
he could not keep it going unless he continued to push it.

For a minute or more he stood hesitating. If by pushing
it he moved the big bird slowly toward the Indians, they
might be frightened—doubtless they would be, yet they
might see him, and he could not foretell what would be
the result.

It seemed to him that a startling movement would be
best. Yet, if he lost control of the machine, by some
error, there was no knowing what would happen. Already

_it was jammed, as he well knew; the aviator had not been
able to manage it.

As he stood thinking, he watched the Indians. Ar-
rows were burning on the roof of the house, but the roof
was not burning. He saw that they were trying to lump
the arrows—heap them in a pile, to make their fire hotter.
If they could do it, and the roof began to burn, the house
would be sure to go.

“I can be as brave as that little teacher,” Chip thought;
“she risked her life by returning to us. So here goes,
whatever happens.”

Giving the biplané a push that started it, he swung into
the aviator’s ‘seat, gave the propeller a turn, and threw
on the motor. -

There was a tremendous roar as the motor went into ac-
tion and the propeller whizzed. The biplane began to roll
over the ground, heading straight for the Indians, who,
but an instant before, had heen watching the flying arrows
and yelling when one landed on the roof.

Before Chip realized it, the big bird was moving faster
than he had anticipated. It was almost on top of the In-
dians, and they were running -before it with deafening
Then. the big bird began to lift into
the air.

Chip shut off the motor as he felt the lifting motion, and
the biplane dropped to the ground, yet, as it had been
given some speed, it rolled on after the fleeing Indians, so
that it seemed a ae thing that was really pursuing

them.

As. Chip dropped from the seat, he came near getting
Escaping them, he slid carefully
downward, then dropped flat to the ground as the biplane

moved on.,

As soon as its bulk was between him and the running

Indians, he stooped and sprinted through the darkness
: toward the near-by hills. :

_ When he began to feel that the darkness hid him, he

‘ stopped to see what had happened.

_ The biplane was rolling alohg, but more slowly, show-

ing that soon it would stop, but the Indians seemed try-

ing to break their necks in their efforts to escape from it,

NEW TIP ‘TOP WEEKLY.

with the glass.

“Great!” said hip, chuckling. “But will that scare hold
them long? Won’t some of them get bold enough, before
the night ends, to investigate the big bird? If they
Gat!

He had turned toward the agency building and was
running through the gloom. When he came up to the
building, some one rose before him, close by the wall.

This some one came toward him, and he made out an
Indian blanket.

Whispered words reached him.

“You are the boy with glass on eyes?
Minnie.”

“Oh,” said Chip, relieved.

It is me—

CHAPTER X,.
AID FROM MINNIE REDCLOUD.

Minnie Redcloud turned to the grated wood hole as
Chip came up. She knew now it was not Fisher, but
she did not choose to reveal her disappointment. She was
hammering on the grating when’ Chip reached her side.

When the grating was released, and Chip drew it up,
Minnie Redcloud dropped through the opening without
explanation. Chip followed, dragging the grating into
place.

Fisher and Miss Williams were there.

“That was the finest thing I ever saw done,” said
Fisher, “Once, though, I thought the big bird was going
to fly away with you. That mob has not only been
stampeded, but scared blue, and not one of. them is left
out there,”

“But some in the grass, back here—unless they ran off
like other ones,” Minnie Redcloud declared.

For the first time Chip Merriwell knew of the ince
he had been in when he slipped out of the building and
went round by the rear'toward the biplane. Indians had
been hiding in the grass well out from the house, at the
rear, watching it. But they had not seen him.

“The scare has made them go on,” said the Indian girl;
“it is what I think. I had to come here very soft, to

‘keep them \from seeing me.”

She began to unfold her plan, for she had a plan, too,
and had been trying to work it out.

' “T come very soft up to here,” she said, “and wonder
can I make you hear me when I rap on the iron, without
making them to hear me out there.
I see some one come out by the hole, and I think it is
the wise boy with the glass on, but I do not know, and
I lie still. Then I listen. And after a time I hear the
dreadful noise, so that I think I am dead.

“When I creep to the end of the house, I see it is the
big bird moving and making the noise, and the Indians
are all much scared. I do not know what I am to do.
Then I see the boy coming again, what I think is the boy
And afterward—— ;

It was too dark in the stygian cellar to see her expres-
sive gestures, the snapping of her eyes, and the flaming
of the red spots that glowed almost continuously in her
brown cheeks. Yet they knew that her voice trembled,
and there were indications that she was herself not with-
out fear of the big and mysterious bird of the white man, —

even though she had been assured that it was made out of

metal and wood, and was not alive, at all.
“Tt is

While I am hiding, —

the plan I haye,” she urged, meaning that was ie:

       
   
   
  
     
   
  
  
   
 
  
  
  
  
  
   
   
  
  
  
   
   
   
  
  
   
  
   
  
   
 
   
   
  
    
   
  
  
  
  
    
    
    
  
   
 
   
 
 

 

ex

      
  

oe oe T=

Sr. &* Sano

 

what had driven her to try to communicate with those in
the building.

“Where is the boy with the glass?” she asked.

“I’m here,” said Fisher, “I’m the jay that started all
this trouble.”

“Jay? Oh, I see. It is the first letter of your name. I
shall call you the J; it is short. But hear now what I
say. Though first I am wonder if all who are out back
of the house, in the grass, are gone.”

“We'll hope they were scared off, like the others,” said
Chip.

The aviator was coming down in the darkness; they
could hear the clumping of his shoes on the stairs.

“The old girl stopped, all right,” he announced. “I
must say I couldn’t done that better myself, if I’d tried.
Once, though, I thought she was breaking away. We
could go safely right out by the front door now, though
maybe you'll think it’s safer for us to stay right here.
They may be so scared they’ll not try that again. Yet the
roof may be already on fire; I thought I could hear a fire

\going up there. We can arm ourselves and make a break

by the front door and fight it out if they come back and
crowd us. What do you say? Now’s the time to do it,
if we're going to.”

He had descended to impart this,

“To get out—it is my plan,” said Minnie Redcloud.
“The teacher knows how it is—that Apaches will not go

about in the dark. I am myself afraid, though I no longer

believe in the spirits, for teacher says that they are
not so.”

“T forgot that,” cried Miss Williams, reproaching herself.
“That is true; the agent informed me of it, and I’ve had
some evidence of it. Apaches, in that, are not like most
other Indians. Even when they were, in the old days,
on the warpath, they would always stop and go into camp
as soon as night came. Even when Geronimo was raiding
down in Arizona that was true, and in the end it was the
thing that enabled the troopers to capture him. Knowing
where he was, or nearly so, and that he would not move
before morning, they came up on him and his men in the
night, and captured them. It is “Apache superstition
something about the spirits that are in the hills. It~is
bad medicine, they say, to move about in the night.”

“That is it,” Minnie Recloud agreed; “and now if we
go out into the hills, while all are scared, they will not
follow, even when no longer are they so scared, and we
shall be safe, until morning, when the agent, he will per-

haps come. It is the thing I have thought. So I tried

to get here.”

The little teacher took time, though in a hurry, to throw
her arms impulsively round the Indian girl.

“How good you are! You do love me—you love the
white people.”

“No, it is not that just,” Minnie Redcloud corrected;

“but Iam mad now.”

“Mad?s Angry?” 7

“T am mad with Many Lightnings, that I have promised
to marry. He is a jealous pig. He says I want to marry
the boy with the glass eyes, and I tell him then, yes, that
I will. He will think now that J] mean it. So I am come
to help the boy with the glass eyes. I will punish Many
Lightnings, and he will feel so bad that he will want
to bite himself, like a rattlesnake. And I shall be glad
that he does. He is a pig, and I hate him.”
“Good for you, FE isher,” Chip could not help saying.

 

NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY. | 17

“We will go to the hills, where we are safe; though
me—I am a little afraid yet. But if teacher and the
boy with the glass eyes stay close by me, perhaps I am
not so much afraid; perhaps I will not run out of the
hills. Now we better go quick.”

“You're a darling,” said Miss Williams.

“Right-o,” Fisher agreed, again trying to carry it off
gayly. “If Many Lightnings comes poking round, I'll
punch his face.”

“Oh, no—no; you must not! He has gun. And he is,
too, a fighter. If he is killed and the boy with glass eyes
is killed, what should I do? He can shoot straight with
the gun; he shot the pigeon.”

“All right, then; I'll be easy with him.”

“Now we must go.”

Doubt and hesitation attacked the aviator.

“T don’t know about this,” he said. “Friday, the twenty-
third !”

“Cut it out!” Chip ordered.

“It’s all right for you to say it; I’m older than you
are, and have had some experience. See what has already
happened to-day. What do you say to staying right in
here until after midnight, anyhow; or, say, until we can
begin to see daylight? Maybe our luck would turn by
that time. We've had rotten luck so far; everything has
gone wrong.”

“We're going out right now,” Chip declared. “You can
stay in here if you want to. Those fellows are likely to
get over their scare after a while. Now is the time to
go, if we're going.”

CHAPTER XI.
CHIP MERRIWELL’S LEADERSHIP,

Chip Merriwell moved upon the grating, in the cellar,
but he was halted by the suggestion that it would be well
to arm themselves and take food and water. No one could
say what would befall them in the ese or what their
needs would be.

So, with a lighted candle to guide Saal they Teoked
about in the storeroom and the cellar, selected rifles and
cartridges, made up bundles of food, and filled a jug with
water.

All this took time.

When Chip Merriwell again approached the cellar grat-
ing, a change had come in the situation, which boded him
and his friends no good. The Indians who had fled from
the biplane as it rolled down the slope were™unwilling to
get too far from their homes in the night, and were
streaming back, many on the side of the storehouse to
which they had given the least attention, the side where
Chip and his companions meant to escape.

Chip was not aware of this when he removed the iron
hooks and lifted the grating over the wood hole. He got
an inkling of it after he had draw himself up out of.
the hole and stood by the wall. ‘

There was a movement on the ground close at hand. A
match snapped there, and by its light he beheld a young
Indian lying in the grass, the Indian who had killed the |
pigeon. / on

Apparently the Indian had intended to touch thy match

‘to one of the arrows that were in a skin case by him, i

that he might havea better light. The arrow was in his %

_ hand. Instead of doing it, he fitted the arrow to a

 
    
      
  

bow with a swift movement and sent it at Chip Mer-
riwell.

Though it was one of the willow arrows, crude and
blunt-headed, it would have done serious injury if it had
struck Chip in the face, and that was what the young
Indian intended.

Chip did not have time to cry out or get back into the
hole. The arrow smashed into the wall by his head. He
knew another would come, or that the Indian would use
the shotgun that lay at his side. On the impulse of the
moment Chip leaped on him.

The young Indian, having clawed his gun out of the
grass, was lifting it, when Chip struck him, Chip’s heels
driving into his body and knocking him backward.

Many Lightnings must have been a much-astonished
young redskin, as he was thus driven backward, and
the white youth flattened down on him in the darkness;
for, in his jealous state, he had thought the figure by the
wall was Doc Fisher.

He was still thinking this as Chip’s strong fingers
caught him by the throat and held him, with choking force,
while he tried to rise.

But Fisher was at hand. He had followed Chip out
of the hole, and he heard sounds of a struggle now. Be-
hind Fisher, Miss Williams was coming, with Minnie Red-
cloud at her heels, and the aviator last. Hampered by
their burdens, they were not moving rapidly.

Doc Fisher came jumping to Chip’s aid, dropping the
things he carried.

“What is it?” he whispered; “can I help you?”

Chip was too much occupied to give an answer. Many
Lightnings, though bowled over and at a disadvantage,
was not whipped, and was putting up a stiff fight.

It was not a time for squeamishness or sentimentalism.
Chip realized that lives, perhaps, depended on the turn of

_ the next few seconds, The young Indian was wheezing in
an effort to emit an Indian yell. :

Mercilessly Chip drove his fist into the face of the
redskin, delivering a blow that silenced him instantly.

Miss Williams, Minnie, and the aviator, scrambled out

of the hole.

~

something was wrong; for even in the darkness he could
see that Chip, and, as he thought, Fisher, were on a she
ground.

“Don’t talk,” Chip warned, rising, and so stopped a flood
of questions that Fisher would have poured on him,

A fiery arrow flamed through the air and dropped in
the grass beyond them. Many Lightnings had friends
mear, and the arrow had been shot as a light, to enable
them to see what had happened.

It was a suggestion! to Chip, who at once scraped up the
_ bow and the filled arrow case he had seen on the ground.
He took up the shotgun, too, merely to get it away from
Many Lightnings, intending to drop it farther along, as
he could not readilyycarry so many things.

“Come on,” he whispered ; “I'll tell you ali about it later.
‘Let’s get out of this,”

_ With the arrows and bow and his rifle nodes one arm,
the other things slung over his shoulder, Chip started off
in the darkness, heading for the nearest hills.

_ The others trailed after him, Miss Minnie Redcloud
sched so close to her senseless lover that she could have

  
 

NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY.

“What’s up?” whispered the aviator, discovering that —

Another arrow flamed over them when they, were a

dozen yards or so out from the agency building. Striking

to the grass, it threw up a sputtering fire, that seemed
about to leap into a revealing flame.

“Down!” whispered Chip, and sprawled on his face
instantly.

The arrow did not set fire to the grass, but burned on
with a small flame, like that of a lamp.

It was fortunate, Chip was sure, that those who fol-
lowed him imitated his movement, for all were down on the
ground, lying flat or crouching.

Other burning arrows. crossed over them, rather high
up, and, striking farther out, lay burning where they had
fallen,

Very carefully, as he lay, Chip drew out one of his
arrows and set it on his bowstring. Striking a match, he
touched the kerosened cotton with it, and almost at the
same instant sent the burning arrow flying.

“Why did you do that?” growled the amazed aviator;
“that kind of work is fool’s work! You’re going to show
them where we are. Where'd you get that, anyhow?”

“That’s all right,” Chip whispered, though he wanted to
say something harsher; “I did that to make ’em think we’re
Indians out here, and keep them*from investigating us.
I think we were seen, and some one would have been
investigating in another minute.”.

The aviator continued to grumble.

“Keep still,” Chip begged. “Can’t you see that you're
going to betray us?”

The flame of the arrow in front died out without firing
the grass. It became a red cinder, that only Rae
sent up a ‘feeble and spurting flame.’

“Come on again,” Chip whispered; “and keep still!”
He rose to his feet and moved on, stooping, at a fast
walk; and was followed now obediently.

When other arrows flamed and came closer than he
liked, he dropped down again and sent a flaming arrow. _

“We can fool them,” he said;
you see me do it, and I’ll shoot one of these arrows. I’ve
got a lot of them here.”

“Where'd you get ’em?”’ said the aviator. .

“Found em,” said Chip, to stop his questions.

On they went, toward the line of hills; with arrows
coming now and then over them, and Chip now and then
sending up one.

Y

There were too many Indians about to please Chip, and ;

the Indians were suspicious. He wondered if they were
young friends of Many Lightnings.

An exciting moment came when Many Lightnings, re-

covering by the agency building, began to set up a
moaning howl.

Indians jumped out of the grass at various points and

ran toward the house. Not many of them could be seen,
but all of them could be heard.

“Now we're in for it,’ was Chip’s thought.

“Follow me,” he said, “and move lively, now.
on!”

He began to run toward the hills,

Wild yells rose at the building, and a hubbub of many

voices talking. Minnie Redcloud stopped, almost toppling . sae

over the aviator, who was behind her.

“Tt is Many Lightnings,” she said ; The is batt They are 5

saying it. It is Many Lightnings ms
“Come on ” vale begged.

“just drop down’ when |

Come —

 

~~

a sigpeee =

~~

eK ae es

    
 

~~ -~ -.- Frm _-

    
   
   
   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
 
  
    
  
   
 
 
   
    
  
   
  
   
 
    
 
  
   
   
  
  
  
  
  
   
  
  
  
  
   
   
  
   
  
  
  
   
  
  
   
  
 

  
 

 

NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY.

As he went on, the Indian girl stood hesitating. Sud-
denly she began to run toward the building.

“Fisher, she’s gone back on you,” said Chip. Then he
begged again: “Come on!”

Indians seemed running everywhere. A light flamed,
and a bonfire leaped into light. It was on the open ground
before the hills, though, fortunately, nearer the side on
which the buildings were than it was necessary for Chip
and his friends to go.

Chip stopped long enough to send up another flaming ar-
row, then he veered to the left, to get past the bon-
fire. .

There were many Indians round it. Apparently they
had been heaping up wood, limbs, and sticks, to light a
fire that would drive off the malignant spirits they feared
might get at them out in the open, so close by the hills.
They had set it on fire, after throwing kerosene on it,
when they heard the words and howls by the building.

Miss Williams, in her excitement, dropped some of the
things she was carrying; the aviator recklessly threw away
those he bore, and a wild sprint for the hills followed,
past the flaming fire, with Chip Merriwell leading.

A shotgun at the building was fired in their direction,
though the distance was too great to make birdshot ef-
fective. Then rifles began to crack, as suddenly the ex-
cited redskins began to get the idea through their heads
that the white people were out Of the agency house and
running for the security of the hills.

With loud yells Many Lightnings came leaping with
his friends in pursuit.

Chip stopped to let his companions come up, as he gained
the base of the hills.

_ “Likely your admirer tipped ‘off the news to them,” he.
panted to Fisher ;

“that’s what I suspect,
doned us, all right.”

“Not until after she had helped us,” said Fisher.

“What I’m wondering,” Chip remarked, as he tried to
breathe and talk at the same time, and found trouble in
doing it, “is if she ss not now reveal our plan to them.
They may follow us.”

“They’re afraid of the hills,” reminded Miss Williams,
who was breathing as heavily as Chip, the result of the
run and the excitement.

“Yet she may get those young Indians to thinking there
is no danger; you’ve been teaching all of them that there
are no spirits in the hills.”

Fisher felt so much relieved that he could laugh—he
could even joke.

“That makes me think of the Kentucky moonshiner, who
said there were no spirits in the hills, only jest good corn
whisky. @h, say, Minnie Redcloud is a peach—even if
she did fling the frosty mitt in my face just now; we
wouldn’t have been out of that house but for her, and
those crazy men would have burned it down over our heads

before morning.”

“Hadn’t we better get farther up?” Chip urged.
“Pile ahead,” said Fisher; “my lungs are in. working
condition again.” (

CHAPTER XII,
HOW IT CAME OUT.

There was safety in the hills. }
The Chiricahya Apaches were not different from other
Apaches in their fear of the night. The older ones, reared

in the old superstitions, could hardly have been dragged

 

re
a
7

She has aban-

\ which they could not live.

into the hills so long as darkness held. Some of the
younger men, more venturesome, slipped up to the base of
the hills, where they lay listening for hours, now and then
firing a flaming arrow. They had for their leader Many
Lightnings.

The older Indians huddled about fires. Numbers of them
returned quietly to their log houses, now that the white
people were gone from their midst. After a long time
the old medicine man was heard chanting, proof that he
had returned to the home of the sick man.

But many of the Indians had, from the first, taken no
part in the demonstration that had come so suddenly to
surprise the little school-teacher. They were young In-
dians, principally, who had received instruction in the

‘agency school, and were friendly to the teacher and the

agent.

Soon after midnight the confusion had died down, and
the danger was passing, with the abating of the mob
spirit.

That is a singular thing—the mob spirit. Indians are
perhaps no more subject to/it than are people of other
races. But whenever and wherever it flames out, it
brings to the front the savagery that is in man. When it
moves white men it shows how thin the veneer of civiliza-
tion is, even in so-called civilized lands. The mob spirit
that causes white men to burn to death a negro criminal
does not differ from that which moved the Chiricahua
Apaches.

So the mob spirit that had been evoked by the old medi-
cine man was passing away. And with its subsidence
many of the Indians were beginning to feel uneasy and
to wish they had taken no part in the attempt to burn the
agency building.

They remembered now that from that, agency build-
ing they received the supplies of the government,- without
What if they had burned the
agency? Perhaps the government would not have rebuilt
it, and no more supplies would be received by them! More
than that, they realized that if any of the white people in
the building had been killed, the soldiers would have come,
and Indians would have been imprisoned, perhaps hanged.

The old Indians talked it over, and became more and
more fearful as the hours moved on and brought the
new day nearer. The agent would appear then. What
would the agent say? Would he send for troopers? And
would the troopers begin to use their long shooting guns?

By morning, even Many Lightnings was seeing that he
had been a big fool, and was seeking a reconciliation with
Minnie Redcloud; and the old medicine man, worn out
with excitement and much “medicine making,” had fallen
asleep on the floor, beside the sick man.

Out in the hills, as the slow hours dragged along, Chip
Merriwell and his companions watched and talked.

There was much quiet joking at the expense of Doc
Fisher, all of which he took in good part, or even
joined in. \

The aviator became noticeably brighter and braver after
he had passed’ the hour of midnight.

“Luck’s going to change for us,”
that we’ve got that day behind us.”

“Most men are queer,” said Fisher. “Over there is —
a young Indian who thinks I want to take his best girl.

he prophesied, “now

With him are a lotymore Indians, who are afraid of the —

dark, Out here is a brave tman—oh, well, I won’t finish

it!”

   

 

 
  

“Til finish it for you,” said the aviator. “Out here is
a young fellow who is so big an idiot that he interferes
with the performance of a medicine man and comes
mighty nigh gettin’ himself and all that’s with him killed
because of it. How’s that git ye?”

“Right between the eyes,” Fisher acknowledged.
a

The viator’s spirits were rising.

“S’pose,” he said, “that Miss Minnie Haha had dragged
you up to the medicine man and got him to have married
ye, right before everybody? What’d you done about it?”

“That’s easy,” laughed Fisher; “I’d have been knifed
the next minute by Many Lightnings. After that, what-
ever happened wouldn’t have troubled me. Why do you
ask such fool questions? Why don’t you ask Chip what
he would have done if he had been shot and killed when
he came company front with Many Lightnings out by the
grating? There’s as much sense in it.”

“Tf you could get a little sleep, it would be good
for you,” Chip suggested to the teacher. /

“Sleep?” cried Miss Williams. “I feel as though I
shan’t want any more sleep for a month.”

“I’m wide awake as an owl, too,” said Fisher; “and so
is Chip. Say, Chip, we’ve got so much time hanging on
our hands, what do you say to going through, after a
fashion, the studies you were to have taken up to-day?”

“Study!” said Chip, “I’m like Miss Williams about
sleep—I shan’t want to study again for a month.”

“You'll have to,” said Fisher; “I’ve got to earn my
salary. I can’t afford to let you/go back to Santa Fe
the ignoramus you were when you came out here.”

“Back to Santa Fe? Then we're really going back to
Santa Fe some time! And here I’ve been doubting it,”

A fire would have been comfortable as the night ad-
vanced, but they feared to start one, so they sat it out, in

chill and darkness, until the day came.

The agent and his wife made their appearance about
sunrise, driving in with two horses hitched to a light
mountain, wagon, and hurrying.

It later appeared that one of the herders had ridden

“lm

 

long distance away, and had started them toward the
agency, accompanying them, The other herders had joined
them beyond the town.

The agent was a quiet man, with calm brown eyes;
apparently not a warlike man, nor an excitable one. His
/ wife was much like him. The herders were border white
_ men, of the usual type.

_ Hardly an Indian was in sight when the agent and those
-\ with him came in. The Indians were in their log houses,
_ cooled after their orgy of excitement, and apprehensive.
- He did not call to any of them, and they did not
come out.
_ After opening his office and store, and putting away
his horses, he went to the log house where the sick man
lay and where the medicine man had fallen asleep aa
_ sheer weariness.
_ There was a log jail, seldom used, but the medicine man
soon oceupied it. The herders hustled him into it, at the
_ agent’s orders, and not an Indian lifted a finger to stop
it. Even the medicine man seemed suddenly subdued and
fear-stricken,

_ After” a talk with some Indian boys, who apparently

  

  

   

NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY.

off on the trail, had found them camped for the night a

pounds at once, only to be renewed in a few months.

3; dist and ‘grease readily,

   
   
   
  
  
    
   
    
   
  
   
  
  
   
   
  
   
  
  
    
   
   
  
   
  
   
   
   
  
  
   
  

while friends of the white people, which, perhaps, was.
true, the agent walked out into the hills.

Seeing him approach, Chip Merriwell and his com- ae
panions made their appearance, with Miss Williams in the Le
forefront, as leader and spokesman.

“I am sorry about this—very sorry,” said the agent.
“T should have come straight on last night, if I had
dreamed of it.”

“Mr. Neckar, it wouldn’t have happened if you had .
been here,” Miss Williams declared to him. *-

“T think that’s right; I think it wouldn’t have hap- te
pened; the Indians here know me and trust me.”

“The trouble is,” said Fisher, “as he shook hands with
the agent, “J was here, and they don’t know and trust
me,”

He looked at Neckar closely.

“But I would like,” he added, “to know how that sick
Indian is, for I’ve had fears for him,”

“That’s all right; we’ll go and see him together. I made
an examination a while ago. He is conscious, you'll be
glad to learn, and much better. He will recover.”

“That’s because,” said Fisher, “that noisy old medicine
man left him a while,” \

Neckar’s calm brown eyes smiled at. Fisher. ;

“Unfortunately,” he said, “they're going to believe that
the sick man is better because Brown Bear went back
to him and stayed with him through the night. It all de-
pends on the point of view, you see,”

“Well, I shall be glad to take a look at the old bird,” i"
remarked the aviator, as they went with the agent out of
the hills; “and she has got to get us out of here, if I can hee
tinker her into shape again.” 1

 

THE END. ae

“Frank Merriwell’s Riddle; or, The Spirits of the Hills,”
is the title of the story that you will find in the next issue
of this weekly, No. 118, out October 31st. By reading
it you will learn how Chip and Doc Fisher get out of ih
their difficulties. 1)

 

QUEER TREES. : te
There are many vegetable wonders in this world of Sy
ours. Certain tropical trees furnish clothes as well as *
food, and the inner bark of others is smooth and flexible
enough to serve as writing paper. ; te, 7
The bread tree has a solid fruit, a little larger than a
coconut, which, when cut in slices, and cooked, can scarcely -
be distinguished from excellent bread. The weeping tree
of the Canary Islands is wet, even in a drought, con-
stantly distilling water from its leaves, and the Wine tree, __ ae
of Mauritius Island, furnishes good wine instead of water. Of
A kind of ash, in Sicily, has a’sap which hardens into —
crude sugar, and is used as such by the natives, without
any refining. The product of the wax tree, of the Andes, |
resembles beeswax very closely. Then there i¢ the but-_
ter tree, of Africa, which produces as much as a hundred

woe. ed. nee

 

      
 

> <a

 
     
     

 

 
      
 
   

This secretion, when hardened and salted, is difficult to
distinguish, from fresh sweet butter. Closely rivaling this
is the milk tree, of South America, the sap of which re-
sembles rich cow’s milk, and is used as such by the na- _
tives, China can boast of a soap tree, the seeds of which, Cie
when used as soap, produce a strong suds, and remove nfo

   

ys, a aden ee ge

       
    
     
     
   
 

 

 
 
  

 

 

 

 

 

NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY.

In direct opposition to these useful trees, is the man-
eating plan of the tropics, which resembles Venus’ fly-
trap in its nature. It has a short, thick trunk, armed with
narrow, flexible-barbed spines.

The Garden of Adventure.

By BARRY WOLCOTT.

CHAPTER I.
UNDER THE TARPAULIN.

Shops lined one side of the street down which Jack
Hyde was walking. On the other were the stone steps
to which, in the daytime, myriads of market boats lay
moored in the broad Guayas River, which rushed swiftly
by the city of Guayaquil on its way to the Pacific Ocean.
Now, however, shops, street, and steps alike seemed de-
serted, and save for the tropical downpour of rain which
roared on pavements and iron roofs, would have been
silent, as well.

But the principal street of Ecuador’s, greatest seaport
never is entirely deserted, no matter what the appear-
ances may be. The edge of a tarpaulin covering a pile
of ivory nuts was raised ever so little, and a pair of
beady, black eyes peered furtively out.

Those eyes were almost as accustomed to penetrating
darkness as are those of a rat, which animal their owner
strongly resembled. Even through the murk of that
stormy night, they marked that the passer-by was a
stranger, and one not of their own breed.

Probably, thought the brain’ behind them, he was a
sailor from one of the ships lying in the stream, and,
therefore, legitimate prey. Two things, though, were
evident: one was that the stranger possessed a pair of
shoulders which argued much trouble for him who en-
countered their strength; the other that the stranger was
not drunk, as, by all ordinary rules, a sailor should be
when on shore at that time of night.

“The Rat”—for it was by this name that the owner

of the eyes was well and most favorably known on the

water front and its immediate vicinity—noted both these
facts for immediate use. Sneaking his stunted little body
out from under the tarpaulin, he followed, stopping at
tarpaulins covering other piles of goods, and gently shak-

| ing each as he did so.

Each one gave up from its shelter another figure, much

-Yike that of The Rat himself, and each one of which,
as it emerged, fell into a group behind him, the bare feet’
falling noiselessly on the wet stones.

Seven there were in all, but not strong enough odds to

make all safe, in their opinion. But The Rat was venture-
some beyond most of his fellows—hence his undisputed
leadership. And, besides, Jack had turned in his walk
- somewhat to the shoreward side of the other piles of

goods, and to rouse more of his comrades would have in-
vited discovery. The Rat and his kind depended largely

A] on surprise for their successes.

He gave a shrill cry; the first sound that he had ut-

ted and at the same time sprang forward, knife in

hand,’ the others close behind him.

Now, The Rat was an expert in the use of a knife.

iaaasity the history of Jack Hyde would have ended
ur! there, But in this instance the voluminous rubber

morning, the way the tide runs now,” said the newcomer,

20

rain cape which Jack wore proved dishearteningly decep-
tive to his assailant, for the keen blade ripped it harm-
lessly through its length. And that, for some time after-
ward, was the last knowledge which The Rat possessed
of mundane affairs.

Instinctively Jack turned, and, with all the force of his
big body behind it, his fist shot out. By pure good for-
tune it met The Rat’s chin, which was coming rapidly
in the direction to meet it. As though kicked by a mule,
The Rat flew backward, and lay sprawling and motion-
less on the pavement, his knife tinkling as it fell far
beyond him.

Respect for the Anglo-Saxon fist is inbred, so far as
those people are concerned. Jack’s other assailants halted
for an instant with something like dismay.

This check gave Jack time to leap backward and to
clear his arms of the slit cape’s encumbering folds. A
pile of boxes barred his way, and at the same time pro-
tected him in the rear. One hand fell on a heavy stake,
used to weigh down the covering tarpaulin, that it might
not blow away. Grasping this stake, Jack swung it with
all his might against the six who were left standing, and
who were advancing once more, One man went spinning;
the rest sprang. back beyond its reach.

“Want any more?” he shouted, forgetting, in his ex-
citement, that no one of his antagonists could understand
a word of English. To his intense astonishment, the ques-
tion evoked an immediate reply, and in the same language.

“It’s likely they don’t want anny more, but it’s a sure
thing they need it,” called a muffled voice. “Give ’em
wan tore fer me, matey, till I can get there!” 7

With the greatest good/ will, Jack did give one more.
At the same time the tarpaulin on the pile of boxes was
violently agitated, and a man bundled out from under
it, with the wild whoop of an Irishman who sees a fight
in prospect. '

“Come on!” shouted the newcomer, rushing forward.
“Come on, I say, or sure you'll be too late fer the
fun!” }

They both were too late, as it turned out. Utterly
demoralized by this unexpected reénforcement, the assail-
ants vanished like shadows into the night and rain. With
evident reluctance, Jack’s ally gave over the chase, and
returned.

Two men lay in the street, and a third was feebly trying
to crawl away.

To the latter, Jack’s new-found friend paid no atten-
tion, but turning the other two on their backs, he lighted
a match and took a hasty look at their faces.

“Faith, it’s The Rat an’ his chief pal!” he exclaimed,
with a laugh. “It’s not many who meet them on a dark
night get off as easy as you did. You're in luck.” :

“T certainly was—in meeting you,” replied Jack heartily. om

“?T would have been all the same; you had ’em running,
anyhow,” his new friend replied.
We mustn’t stay here.”

Taking Jack’s arm, the other hurried away, and Jack —
yielded, not asking for an explanation, which presently was _
forthcoming of itself. oi

“There’s a regularly organized gang of these water-_
side thieves—The Rat and his like. If they could, they’d —
have stuck a knife in you and then, after going through

you for what they could find, would have thrown you into

the Guayas, there. You'd be well out to sea long before

  

 

 
    

“But come along, now. —

         
     
       
     
  

      
      
   

 

 

 

 

_ Jack gayly.

a thatch of curly red hair.

_ soiled, was good both in material and cut.
_ to say, as he stripped, a belt containing many pockets was
- revealed. This he unbuckled, and as he threw it carelessly
across a chair, it clinked suggestively.

nl Eee tenants Meme ee -
Ns SoBe 5 es oe

22 NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY.

“What we want, now that we've
. °
is to keep clear of

as they went along.
licked them, or you have, that is,
the police.”

“Keep clear of the police! Why?” demanded Jack.

“The Rat has ’em fixed, of course; and especially where
a gringo is concerned. They’d.soak you just because
you didn’t get robbed and so did them out of their share.
Ever see a jail in this country?”

“T never did.”

“Well, you don’t want to.
go?”

“To the hotel, I suppose. I started to take a drive in
the country back here, but the rickety old carriage broke
down, and I took what I thought was a short cut in
walking home. You'll come with me to my room, won’t
you, and get a rubdown and put on some dry things ?”

Jack did his best,to speak in an offhand manner. He
did not wish to embarrass or offend this new-found
friend of his. For, though the fact that he had been
sleeping under a tarpaulin that covered a pile of boxes
argued/a certain lack of money, there still was nothing
to indicate that he was wanting in pride. His language
was that of an educated man, even when, in moments of ex-
citement—and, as Jack afterward found, in jest—a trace
of brogue crept into it. .

The man hesitated before replying to Jack’s invitation.

“It’s awfully kind of you to ask me,” he said. “Still,
I don’t want to run you into any trouble.”

“Trouble!” repeated Jack. “What trouble could there
be? You haven’t any infectious disease, or aren’t a lunatic,
or anything, are you?”

“No, I’m not a lunatic.
to be dangerous to my friends,”
little laugh.

“What’s wrong, then?”

“Nothing, really, as yet. Later it may go against you
to have been seen with me, if you care’ about that sort of
thing.”

“Which I don’t,” said Jack stoutly.

“And at this hour, on such a night,” the other continued,
“T don’t suppose there——”

“Neither do I; I don’t suppose anything,”
“It’s too much trouble. So now that mat-
ter’s settled, come along—for here we are.”

And, without further objection, the stranger followed
him,

Where do you wish to

Anyhow, not enough of one
replied the other, with a

CHAPTER II.
A MATTER OF NAMES,

Not until he had reached his room, and had induced
the smoky kerosene lamp to _bura, did Jack get a fair

look at his guest.

Then he saw a man some four or five years older
than he, and though not so tall, even broader across the
shoulders, with a strong, humorous face, surmounted by
It was a thoroughly honest

face, and a most likable one. Jack took a strong liking

; to its owner then and there.

The clothing worn by this man, though drenthed and
And, strange

_ “I wasn’t sleeping out there on those boxes because

interrupted

\

I didn’t have the price of a room,” said he, with a
smile,

“Evidently not,”
“I’m sorry if I looked astonished, but really I couldn’t
help it.”

“No wonder you couldn’t,” agreed the other heartily.
“Tf I’d seen a thing like that, I’d have been not only aston-
ished, but suspicious, too.”

Jack made no direct reply. A gleam of suspicion had,
as a matter of fact, darted through his mind, but the
candid speech of this strange guest strangled it at
birth.

Both men now had stripped and were rubbing them-
selves vigorously. Jack glanced at the sbeautifully mus-
cled body of his companion with undisguised admiration.

“My word!” he exclaimed, “but you’re surely built for
business |”

His guest ochad:

“You’re none so dusty yourself,” said he. “When you’re
a few years older, you'll be a stronger man than I, if I
mistake not.”

“What’s that?” cried Jack suddenly, jumping from the
bed upon which he had seated himself and running to a
window, his eyes bright with excitement.

“That” was a series of sounds which came from the
street outside.

There was the quick fall of running feet, a sharp
challenge, and a shot, followed by more shots. Then
there was a scream, and afterward the sound of yoices
babbling confusedly.

The stranger, catching Jack around the waist, whirled
him back into the room.

“Don’t you know any better than to make a target
of yourself, standing as you did, framed by a lighted
window?” he demanded.

After a gleam of anger at the summary treatment ac-

corded him, Jack could not but recognize the’ justice of
what had been said,.and the motive of both speech and
act.
. “But what is up?” he asked eagerly.

“Wait,” said the stranger, “Is this young arsenal
yours?” he continued, going to a corner where various
chests and gun cases were resting. '

“Surely,” replied Jack eagerly.
to do with it?”

For a time there was no answer. Extracting a pair of
automatic pistols from the baggage, and seeming to know
by instinct where to find them, the stranger slipped loaded
clips into their butts, and loaded also a couple of shot-
guns, which he snapped together for the purpose. Then
he turned to Jack once more. . \

“These are the best odds for short range,” said he. “I

‘don’t for a moment suppose we'll have to use them to-
night, but it’s always well, in these countries,
ready.”

Laying the weapons ready to hand, he seated himself
and gazed thoughtfully at the floor.
not speak, nor did Jack interrupt his thoughts, but waited
with what patience he could for the other to begin, which
he presently did.

“Do you realize that I don’t even know the name of
my host?” he said, looking up suddenly.

“Hyde. John Hyde.
answered the owner of that name.

“What are you going

“Of New York, Once

replied Jack, attempting also to smile.

 

to be.

For a time he did

Commonly called Jack,” ptoniptly. °,

   
  
  
   
   
   
   
   
     
   
  
  
    
   
 
 
     
   
   
  
   
  
   
  
    
 
   
   
  
 
 
 

 

 

an nasa

sea a ha

as

DARE! Wb ites SEL are,
Dns Ste oe Pees. &2- Po +

wt Ar wm

 

    
         
 

 

      
       
       
       
       
       
       
    
 

aa i i

 

 

 
    
   
   
     
 

 
 
      
 

 

 
 
   
 

 

NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY.

student at Harvard. Now—well—gentleman at large, I
suppose one might say. And you?”

“Hyde. Dennis Hyde. Commonly called Denny,” came
the rejoinder. “Of County Antrim, Ireland. Once master
mariner. Now—well—gentleman at large, I suppose one
might say.”

Then, laughing at the coincidence of their names, they
shook hands, and from that moment there began a friend-
ship never afterward broken. But the laugh soon faded
from Denny’s face, leaving it grave once more.

“Jack, may I ask you some questions? It isn’t from
mere curiosity that I want to.”

“Pull ahead.”

“How was it your people consented to your wandering
about alone down here?”

“People! Haven’t any. Only my guardian. He wanted
me to be a professor in a college, or something of that
sort. I couldn’t see it. Then I got into a little. scrape—
nothing much—bonfire on the campus that did some dam-
age—and jhad to leave. Guardian didn’t care; he has to
pay my allowafce, anyhow, and would as soon send it
here as anywhere else. That’s the tale, in short.”

“Not all of it. Why did you choose this place?”

“T put the riames of all these two-by-twice countries
in a hat, and drew one name out. Ecuador won.”

“T see. Is there anything you thought of doing down
here?”

“Anything. Go on a shooting trip if I couldn’t find
something that I liked, and that would pay something at
the same time. I want to earn my living if possible—
just to prove to my guardian that I can. Don’t you
understand ?”

“I do, indeed,” replied the other heartily.

“Jsn’t there something you know of?” asked Jack. “Now,
a revolution, for instance——”

“Ts about the poorest job, under ordinary circumstances,
that you could take on, As for something else—well,
we'll talk of that in the mCruNe Now it’s time to go
to sleep.”

Jack pleaded for further information, but in vain. In
fact, while he still was pleading, the sound of a gentle
snore informed him that his words were but a waste of
breath, With an indignant grunt, he subsided, and in a
very few minutes he had utterly lost his indignation in
the deep sleep of healthy and tired youth.

CHAPTER III,
“LA DIOSA VENUS.”

Jack opened his eyes to find the sun streaming into his

room, and Denny shaking him by the shoulder.

“Well, aren’t you the fine young thing when it comes

to doing a sleeping stunt!” cried the Irishman, grinning,
and evidently in high good humor.
- Sure, don’t you want to hear the news I’m bringin’ ?”

“Wake up, will ye?

- “Did you find out what that row last night was about?”

asked Jack, sitting up in bed and rubbing his eyes.
; only some gintlemin —

“That! Oh, that was nothin’,
amusin’ themselves afther the fashion av the counthry.
’Tis the job ye were talkin’ of that I came to spake about.
‘Tell me now, Jack; are ye fond of alligators?”

4 Denny’s humor was infectious. Jack grinned in return,

-“T never ate one,” said he.

_ “Ever Hook wan, shoot wan, or dig wan?”
Dig ‘one! Like clams?” ah ie ad ot 3

 

“Just that.”

“Most certainly I never did. But I’d like to try mighty
well—all three methods.”

“So ye shall. But get into your clothes now, and hurry;
there’s no time to lose,” said Denny, suddenly becoming
grave once more. “Don’t mind your plunder; I'll pack that
while you’re dressing. I’ve made all the arrangements,
subject to your approval. It won’t be an expensive trip
at worst, and, in fact, well make rather a handsome
thing out of it unless I’m much mistaken. Alligator skins
are worth money—good money.”

“Bully!” cried Jack enthusiastically, and, without fur-
ther comment, started with his toilet.

Living, as he had, the ordinary life pursued by a more
or less idle student with plenty of money, this rapid-fire
decision appealed to him strongly. It was utterly new to
him, and its very suddenness and*quick movement savored
of the adventure dear to all young men with red ne
in their veins.

“IT suppose we'll leave most of that stuff here in the
hotel, won’t we?” he asked, as Denny closed and locked
a trunk and began to tug at its straps.

“We will not.”

“But what’s the good of taking all this stuff—dress
clothes, and» such things—on an alligator hunt?” ;

“Ye never can tell. There'll be some very exclusive
alligators up. above, like as:not. There; we’re ready now, ,
I think.”

The last strap had been tugged into place as he spoke.
In a very few minutes. more Jack found himself trotting
behind a very small mule dragging a cart in which his
luggage had been placed, and which Denny was urging to
efforts distasteful to the mule and his owner. alike.

“What’s the awful rush?” asked Jack curiously, but

. Denny made no reply save that of an extra hearty whack

on the mule’s thin side. No other word was spoken
until the upper end of the town was reached. Here
Denny heaved a long sigh of relief.

“We've got here to, the Goddess’ shrine, and in good
time, too,” said he. “The tide’s just on the turn. What
do you think of her, Jack?”

Jack looked with much natural curiosity at the craft
that was to be his floating home. And a strange enough
boat she was.

She was made of steel plates, and was nearly forty feet
long. But those who built her knew no other boats than
the dugout canoas that had navigated those waters for
countless generations before ever Spaniard saw the land.

So to the dugout shape he had adhered, Amidships a

cabin shaped like the “tilt” of a prairie schooner bore hi,
on its sides in letters some two feet high the emanietnee
“La Diosa Venus.”

“The Goddess Venus,’ translated Diaiies with a grin.
“Isn’t she the beauty, though? She’s our flagship; the
rest of the fleet are there astern of her,” he continued,
pointing to three genuine dugout canoes tied up to the
bank.

“What are they for?” asked, Jack. 7

“There'll be plenty for them to carry, eedabs wit “s
we begin to load up on alligator skins,” was the reply.
“We'll put none of them in the Goddess; they aren’t
pleasant things to be shipmates with, And talking of the’
Goddess, there comes the devil—or his representative.”

The last words seemed uttered to himself rather than
addresged to Jack, who glancing curiously in the direc-

  

    
 

 
   
   
     
 
     

   
    
 

   
  
   
   
    
   
   
  
 
  
  
  
  
  
     

tion toward which his friend was looking, could see noth-
ing to call for them.

A well-dressed elderly man was walking rapidly down
the street, which at that point was almost deserted, noth-
ing more. Certainly his appearance had in it nothing at
first glance that one ordinarily associates with his satanic
majesty. His countenance appeared decidedly benevolent,
Jack thought, until he had time to take a second look.

This look happened to intercept one that the newcomer
cast at Denny, who had turned and was busying himself
in superintending the unloading of Jack’s luggage from the
cart. Jack’ had doubts as to the benevolence then. To
his surprise the man walked straight up to him.

“Your name is Hyde?” he demanded curtly.

“Yes,” answered Jack, also curtly. He did not like the
manners of this man at all.

“Where are you going?”

“To attend to my own\affairs,” the young man replied,
flushing angrily. “I haven’t the honor of your acquaint-
ance, and if you'll adopt a line of conduct similar to
mine, it would be a great improvement over your present
one.”

The stranger stamped his foot.

“Young man, I’m not accustomed to hearing myself
addressed in that manner! Evidently you don’t know who
I am?”

“T don’t care who you are!”

“You will have reason to. Your guardian, Mr. Mun-
yon, is an old and valued friend of mine. - ft heard that
you were coming here. I have observed you since you
came, and your conduct has not been such as I approve.
And now you intend:gallivanting off with a discharged
servant of mine—a man I was forced to discharge for
dishonesty !” ‘

“My good man, even if what you say is true, it doesn’t
interest me,” said Jack, growing more and more angry.

“It’s not true,” remarked Denny, very. quietly.

“It is true!” retorted the stranger. “And as for-you,
ir,” he went on, again addressing Jack, “I have cabled to
your guardian, and at. any moment the reply may come.
That reply will absolutely forbid your. association with
a.criminal like this precious namesake of yours,. Until
it does arrive, you must not leave this city. You must

j not! Do you hear, sir?”

Jack heard, but at first was almost inclined to dis-
credit the testimony of his ears. ‘That a man whose
name he did not know, and of whose-existence he had been
utterly ignorant five minutes before; should come and
calmly give him orders as to what he should or should
not do, was so utterly, absurd.as to be simply funny. . So
his anger vanished in a laugh, at which the choler .of

the stranger increased in proportion.

ut a string of twelve men, under convoy of a thir-
- teerlth, who came down the street at that time made him
think better of the speech which he evidently was trying
to compgse despite the passion that nearly choked him,
and hurry away in the direction frem which he had come.
_Jack stood for a moment looking after him.
_ “Who on earth is that person, Denny?” he asked curi-
- ously.

“His name is Wade,” answered the Irishman. “I'll tell
you about him later; there’s no time now. Those men
are our crew—I thought they’d never come!”

_ The members of the crew evidently were well known
to Denny. Under his directions the canoes een

é

NEW TIP “TOP WEEKLY.

   

ready. Jack understood but little Spanish, and nothing
at all of the work in hand. Therefore, he stood by in
enforced idleness as the preparations were made and the
little processions of canoes pushed off into the stream.

The tide was running up rapidly, serving to counter-
act a part of the current of the Guayas. It would have
been impossible to make headway against it when tide
and current ran in the same direction.

For a time Jack was contented to watch the brawny
paddlers as they labored, stripped to the -waist, driving
the canoes upstream, to see the banks sliding slowly by,
and to realize that at last he had started on one of the
journeys that he only had dreamed of before.

He hardly realized how the time was passing, and at
noon, which came astonishingly early that day, accord-
ing to his reckoning, he realized for the first time that
he had eaten nothing since the night before.

They did not stop for cooking, but only tied up to the
bank so that the labor might cease for the time while
they devoured hungrily the canned provisions which
Denny’s foresight had provided for the occasion. It was
not until they had finished and we-.e once more on their
way that Jack’s curiosity as to the events of the morn-
ing and the previous night reasserted itself.

“Tell me, Denny, about that old geezer who came and
tried to crab our trip?” he said.

Denny frowned thoughtfully.

“His name is Wade, as I told you,” said he. “After
I left the sea, I was his private secretary for a while.
He was concerned in a movement—a political movement—
that I thought, and still think, was most righteous.”

“A revolution?” asked Jack, with increased interest.

“It would involve that. ‘There’s no use in going into
details.
in fact, had done so. So, finding that out, he trumped
up a charge of dishonesty against me. That’s:the reason
I was sleeping out last night.”

“The police?”

“Yes. He’s a man of influence down here—enormous
influence; his treachery has gained him that with the
present administration. So I[\ didn’t quite dare stay at
the house where my things were left. And this morning
it was more or less touch and go as to whether we'd get
away, but he didn’t have time to do much, as you saw. I
didn’t begin to feel easy until we were in the stream. 4

“Can’t he send after us?”

. “I doubt if he'll care to try, that. ‘He isn’t popular. up
whet we're going.” \ Se

There was a long pause. Jack was thinking hard,

“Had that firing last night anything to do’ with ‘the
revolution that this man Wade betrayed?” he asked.

“In a way. They were shooting at some sympathizers,
probably—the police were. They do that, and are en-
couraged in it, whenever there’s a chance. But you never
can tell when one of those little disturbances will de-
velop into a full-fledged battle.
pared for trouble.”

CHAPTER IV.
A RIVER CHASE.

Jack was happy. He had made no mistake in coming

to this country in search of the more exciting things of |
life; excitement enough and to spare seemed lying Tee

where ready to hand.

I found out that he was selling his side out—

That’s the reason I pre-

Ley
aS

Avg se

 

 

 

 
 

ee

 

a A gina

 

 

 

NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY.

He was about to ask further questions, when the cry
of a man stationed on the aftermost canoe prevented
him.

Jack looked quickly at Denny.

“Steamer,” explained the latter.
one due at this hour.”

“There’s no regular

Rising, Denny took a pair of binoculars. from. their
case, and focused them upon a stumpy hull that was com-
ing around a bend some three miles away, a long plume
of wood smoke pouring from her funnels. Denny sat
down again, and replaced his glasses in their case.

“She’s the Estrella del Este, and she’s in a hurry,”
said he quietly. “I don’t know what she wants. Would
you object if we put you ashore for a little, Jack?”

“T sure would,” replied Jack, with great decision. “What
on earth got such a notion into your head?”

“There may be trouble. I can’t tell yet.”

“Then, do you suppose I’m going to funk it?’ demanded
Jack indignantly. “If you do, you’d better guess again,
that’s all. Look here, Denny; am I a full partner in
this concern—the Alligator-Hydes Company, or whatever
you choose to call it—or am I not?”

“Of course you are, but——”

“There aren’t any ‘bats. Let’s see those glasses for a
jiffy.”

Denny handed them over. Jack, leveling them,\took a
long look at the oncoming steamer.

“She surely is in a hurry, all right, ” was his first com-
ment. “There are uniforms on that forward deck,” he
added, a moment later. “Yes, uniforms, and—say, Denny,
is that a gun?”

The question answered itself. A puff of feathery smoke
came from: the steamer’s bow, something screamed mourn-
fully over the canoes, and passed far ahead and out of
their ken. A moment later there came the sound of a
report, muffled to a thud by the distance. Jack gave a
shout of joy.

“They're firing—and they've begun it, not we!” he
shouted, and dived into the cabin for his favorite rifle.

There was no use for the weapon then, however. The
steamer had noty yet approached to anything like rifle
range, though she was coming up fast. Denny watched her
anxiously, and looked at his men, but did not speak to
them. Already they were doing all that human bodies
were capable of; the canoes were cutting. through the
water as though engines and not men were driving them.
Anxiously Denny was looking ahead; then his face
cleared.

Standing on the forward deck 2 the Goddess, he shouted
to attract attention, and then waved his hands. Without

slackening their pace, the canoes turned, making for the

bank, which seemed to open in order to receive them.
It was the mouth of a narrow creek that they entered.

_ From. the first, Jack could see how strategically strong
_@ position it gave them.

Its winding course and high
banks would force any boat that came against them to
expose its inmates to the full fire of the rifles which
Denny, the moment he and the canoes. were under shelter,
began to dsitribute to his men, disposing them so that the
entrance to their position was thoroughly ;covered.

This done, there was nothing to'do but wait. The

wait seemed to Jack as though it would nevet end, though,
aS a matter of fact,
| laboring exhaust of the steamer was heard, and a few

it was but. a short time when the

 

 

25

minutes later she swung into sight and stopped her
engines.

“It’s us that they’re after, all right,” said Jack eagerly.
“T wonder why? Is it the revolution, do you suppose,
Denny ?”

“No.
Duck!”

He did not. depend on the word alone, but pulled Jack
quickly down so that he was entirely concealed behind the
banks of the creek, behind which they were crouching.

He was not an instant too soon.

Once more the gun on the forward deck of the steamer
sent a shell screaming over, to, strike in the soft earth
of a little knoll, and explode there harmlessly, throwing a
shower of the brown soil high in the air. At the same
time there sounded the drumming rattle of a machine gun,
and the bullets whined in a steady stream, like a swarm
of hornets, Denny laughed.

“Now, I wonder what our little friends over there on
that boat think they’re going to win by wasting all that
perfectly good ammunition?” said he. “However, it may
serve to amuse them and keep them out of mischief. Got
a match, Jack?”

“But won't they try to rush us under cover of that fire?”
asked Jack, handing over his match box.

Denny lighted a cigarette before replying.

“No, I think not,” said he. . “They don’t know exactly
where to rush, you see. And yet—I don’t know. That
certainly looks like it.”

The steamer had started her engines again, and was
feeling her way cautiously toward the bank. A gang-
plank forward and another aft were being made ready to
run out, and on her decks men were massing, snapping
bayonets onto their rifles.

“Be ready, men,” said Denny, in Spanish. “Don’t: fire
until you get the word. Aim for her pilot house.”

There was a snapping of rifle bolts as the men prepared
to obey. It was the first time in his life that Jack ever
had sighted a rifle at human game. To his surprise,
he found the sights describing irregular arcs in the air,
and he did not seem able to control them in the least.

It was a case of real, old-fashioned buck fever, such
as he had heard his father speak of, but which he never
before had experienced. And the thought that he was
affected by it now, on what looked like the eve of his first
battle, so affected him with shame that his hand grew
steady, and the sights bore undeviatingly upon the win-
dow of the pilot house, which he had chosen as his
mark.

At that moment came the sharp word of command.

Fifteen rifles blazed as one. No man was seen to
fall. No exposed man had been fired at. It was as
though the steamer herself was wounded. She began

They want me; I know too much, and——

veering wildly, here and there, as the current took her.

A dozen men were running for her wheel almost in-
stantly, but too late.

A sand bar extended far out into the stream from
the mouth of the creek in which Jack and the others had
taken refuge. On this’ bar the steamer ran diagonally,
heeling far over and sending a rushing wave from her
downstream side, while against her upper one the swift
current piled itself, wedging her moré and more securely
into the clinging sand with each second that passed.

Denny chuckled aloud. “Look, Jack! Look at those
little brown soldiers,” he cried.

 

 
  

   

‘

  
  
   
  
 

 
 

ME

}
“They’re like the paper soldiers I used to play with as
a kid, after a breeze from an open window had taken
’em,” said Jack, smiling.

He was quite right. The tilting deck had thrown them,
officers and all, off their feet at the same instant, piling
them in confused heaps against the downstream rail.

But that is where their resemblance to the paper sol-
diers ceased. No toys ever used language such as came
from that squirming, struggling pile.

“I didn’t want to hurt the poor little beggars more than
we had to,” said Denny, as he watched them trying to
disentangle themselves. “After all, they are only the tools
of those who are at fault. And they got off cheap.”

“We don’t know who was hit in that pilot house,”
jected Jack.

“No. But we know that no one else was hurt, except
for a bumped head and a bloody nose or so when they
tumbled. We were bound to protect ourselves, you know.”

“But won’t they try to rush us later?”

“They may try to sneak on us at night. But we'll
emulate the famous flea of my fellow countryman; when
they put their finger on us, we'll be somewhere else. Come
on. There’s; lots of work to do.”

There was indeed lots of work to do; work that needed,
as Denny said, “all hands and the cook” for its accom-
plishment.

At a word from Denny, and piloted by old Manuel,
the head man of the crew, the canoes were got under
way again, and threaded the tortuous channel of the
creek,

ob-

TO BE CONTINUED.

 

THEY CARRIED IT TOO FAR.

By MAX ADELER.

Mr. Butterwick called in to see me the other day, and,
in the course of the conversation, he said:

“l’'m going to move. I can’t stand those Thompson’s
next door to me, any longer. They’re the awfullest people
to borrow things that I ever saw. Coffee and sugar and
butter and flour I don’t mind so much, although when ‘a
woman borrows high-priced sugar and Java coffee, and
sends back sand and chickory, a man naturally feels bilious
and mad. But they borrowed pretty near everything in
the house. First it’s one thing and then it’s another,
from morning till night, right straight along. Now, there’s

the poker. A poker’s a piece of machinery that you'd think

anybody might go around and buy, or, if they couldn’t

afford it, they might use a fence paling to shake up the

fire. But Mrs. Thompson seems to hanker after our poker.
She borrows it fifteen or twenty times a day, and last
Saturday she sent for it thirty-four times. She pays a
boy two dollars a week to run over and borrow that

_ poker, and she’s used it so much that it’s all bent up, like

a corkscrew.

“Now, take chairs, for instance. She asks us to lend

her our chairs three times a day—at every meal; and she’

borrows the rocking-chair whenever she wants to put the

baby to sleep. A couple of times she sent over for a
_ sofa, and when the boy came back with it, he said Mrs.
omignon was tad as thunder, and kept growling around
the hotise all day, because there were no castors on it.

Last Penday,| she borrowed our wash boiler, and we had

 

NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY.

| utes.

of preserved peaches. I’ve got on an undershirt now that
I’m mighty doubtful if I’ll ever get off, it’s stuck to me
so tight. Every now and then she has company, and then
she borrows our hired girl and all the parlor furniture, and
once, because I wouldn’t carry the piano over for her
and take down the chandelier, she told our girl that there
were rumors about town that I was a reformed pirate.

“Perfectly scandalous! They think nothing of sending
over after a couple of bedsteads, or the entry carpet; and
the other day Thompson says to me: ‘Butterwick, does your
pump log pull up easy?’ And when I said I thought may-
be it did, he said: ‘Well, I’d like to borrow it fer a few
days till I can git one, for mine’s all rotted away. The
only wonder to me is that he didn’t try to borrow the
well along with it.

“And then, on Thursday, Mrs. Thompson sent that boy
over to know if Mrs. Butterwick wouldn’t lend her our
front door. She said theirs was away, being painted, and
she was afraid the baby would catch cold. When I asked
him what he supposed we were going to do to keep com-
fortable without any front door, he said Mrs. Thompson
said she reckoned ‘we might tack up a bed quilt, or some-
thing. And when I refused, the boy said Mrs. Thompson
told him if I wouldn’t send over the front door, to ask
Mrs. Butterwick to lend her a pair of striped stockings and
a horsehair bustle, and to borrow the coal scuttle till Mon-
day. What in the name of Moses she is going to do with
a bustle and a coal scuttle, I can’t conceive.

“But they’re the most extraordinary people! Last Fourth
of July, was it? Yes—last Fourth of July the boy came
over and told Mrs. Butterwick that Mrs. Thompson would
be much obliged if she’d lend her the twins for a few min-
Said Mrs. Thompson wanted ’em to suck off a new
bottle top, because it made her baby sick to taste fresh
India rubber! Cheeky, wasn’t it? But that’s her way.
She don’t mind it any more! Why, I’ve known her to
take off our Johnny’s pants, when he’s. been. playing over
there with the children, and send him. home _bare-legged,
to tell his mows er that she’d borrowed them for a pat-
tern. And on \Thompson’s birthday, she said her house
was so small for a party, that if we’d lend her ours, we
might come in late in the evening and dance with the
company, if we wouldn’t let on that she didn’t live there!
Yes, sir. I’m going to move. I’d rather live next door
toa ‘lunatic asylum; and have the tnaniacs pouring: red-
hot shot over the ferice every hour -of the ini I en
indeed.” a9

PAT’S INGENUITY.

An Irishman on one occasion passed a grocer’s shop,

and, seeing a pile of cheeses on the counter, and noticing
the shopman had left the shop, thought it a good oppor-
tunity to get a cheese for nothing.

He, therefore, stepped lightly into the shop, and, taking

a couple of cheeses, placed one on each side of the scales.
The shopman, hearing the noise, came from the si

shop and asked Pat what he was about.

“Och,” said Pat, “don’t annoy yourself; I only wish to

know if your cheese or mine is the heaviest.”

“Like your confounded cheek,” said the ‘shopman an- s

grily, “if you don’t take your cheese out of this at once
T’ll set the police on you.”

Pat lifted the cheese: and, smiling at Hes: trick he. ‘ad

performed, bade the re a oa iit ae

ing in it, and the consequence was all our clothes were full

        
     
 

   
    
   
 
   
   
   
  
  
  
   
   
  
  
  
  
   
  
  
   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
   
   
  
  
     
   
   
   
  
 
  
  
  
   
  
   
   
  

 

 

 

 

 

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Congratulations.
Dear Mr, STANDISH: Congratulations, Mr. Standish;
I have just been reading the New Tie Tor WEEK Ly, No.
110, “Frank Merriwell at the Cowboy Carnival,” and it

sure was great. Keep up the good work, and there is
no doubt but Tie Top will be a great success.

It certainly seemed like old times to read No. r1o.
Dunnerwurst and Gallup were the fun makers as of old,
and they made me feel like I was meeting some long-lost

_ friends.

Hoping for more of the same kind as No. 110, and
also seeing this letter in the Compass, I remain, a loyal
Tip Topper, Win. Gupmunnson.

Logan, Utah.

Pitchet Has to Wear His “Specs” in Game.

A pitcher who wears spectacles when he is on the
mound and at bat, and who cannot distinguish between
objects ten feet away without them, is expected to do
good work for the Cardinals, the St. Louis National
League team. Meadows is his name, and he was pur-
chased from the Durham team of the North Carolina
League.

Meadows is a right-hander, pitches a curve and a spit-
ball and wears thick, heavy glasses. Experts who watched
him with Durham declare he was one of the finest pros-
pects in the minor leagues. He is a big, strong farmer
boy and has almost perfect control.

One of the Old Guard.

- Dear Eprtor: I read with great interest the letters writ-
ten by some of the “old timers” in No. 98 of the
new weekly, and these letters, along with the reéntry
of some of the old characters into the stories has set me
to thinking of the days when I first became a Tip Topper,
these many years ago.

I was a lad of fourteen, when, away back in 1806,
I read No. 1 of the Tre Top Weexty, and for the past

‘ eighteen years I have followed the fortunes of the Mer-

riwells.
For seven years I have been a semi-invalid, and in
my vain search for health out West, in Europe, and here,

im the North Carolina mountains, I have always had the

Tie Top and your Popular Magazine for constant com-
panions.

Of course, the Tre Top is intended primarily for boys,
but we old fellows, who have grown up along with the

weekly, will always feel that it is as much ours as it ;
“~~ named series; I do not know why, but I will soon know, _

was when Frank, senior, was a plebe at Fardale.
I want to thank you, Mr. Standish, for the pleasure

 

you have given me personally, and to express the sincere
wish that you may continue the good work you are
doing for the American boy for many years to come. —

Of course, you know best what sort of stories your
readers like, but I assure you that many of us would be
glad to hear more of Bruce, Harry, Jack, and Bart Hodge,
and if you give us more of their adventures along with
the Merriwells, you will earn the gratitude of a host
of your loyal admirers.

With sincere, best wishes to you and to all the mem-
bers of the “old guard,” I am, very truly,

Marion, N. C. W. P. Crartc.

Will Get Wealth from Waste.

A recently invented machine. installed by the Calumet
& Hecla Mining Company in its plant in Northern, Mich.,
will save 480,000,000 pounds of copper, which, during the
last fifty years had been dumped into a lake along with
30,000,000 tons of sand, and in addition will save 300,000,000
tons of copper yearly.

Until a year ago there was no means of extracting all
the copper from the sand. In 1913 a regrinding- machine
was installed which extracted all but eight pounds of
copper from every ton of sand. The new machine gets
all but thirty-five ounces.

Some Suggestions.

Dear Eprtor: I think Tie Top is one of the best
weeklies that is on the market to-day, as can be seen
by its enormous circulation. It is also the cleanest
and the most interesting weekly published. It teaches
the people, old and young, to refrain from smoking, chew-
ing, drinking, or any other kind of bad habits. I, my-
self, never did smoke, chew, drink, or swear, but Trp
Tor has established my mind more firmly to abolish such
dreadful things.

I did not like the cover of Nos. 98 to 107 very well,
but I think the present ones are just splendid and magnifi-
cent, the best I have ever seen, and I sincerely hope your
artist will not makeeany new designs. I do not expect
your artist to make covers to suit all your readers, be-
cause that would be impossible. To do that, all the minds
of the readers of Tre Top would have to run in the same
channels, and we all know some readers would never
be satisfied with whatever you gave them.

T have all the numbers of the New Tip Tor Weexty
except about twenty-five, and these twenty-five ‘happened
to contain the Owen Clancy series. I see, in the Compass,
that very many readers are not satisfied with the above-

because I am going to secure all the remaining back num-

 

 
 

  
       
 
      

bers, then I will some time express my on of the
Owen Clancy series in the Compass.

Of the characters, I like Chip best, with Clancy a
close second. I am not very well acquainted with Frank,
senior, and Dick, because I have read only just a few in
the old series. But I am going some day to secure all
the Medal Library books about Frank and Dick, providing
I get the consent from my parents.

I would like to know if No. 301 of the Buffalo Bill
Stories is yet in printtand Nos. 347 to 850 of the Tip Top
WEEKLY. How often do you print catalogues of the New
Tip Top Weex.y and the New Medal Library? Will you
please answer the questions that I have asked through
the Compass?

- Will you please consider the following suggestions:

1. Why not abolish the News Items of Interest?

2. Why not use Chip instead of Frank, junior, in the
titles ?

3. Have the books twenty-six pages, as they used
to be.

My brother aia he would fice to have a set of post
cards sent in my name, as he is an ardent reader of
your magnificent weekly.

Hoping you will excuse my lengthy epistle, I remain,
sincerely yours, Roa ee Wes ees
Sheridan, Ore.

Thank you for your suggestions. We will take them
under consideration. Buffalo Bill Stories, No. 301, is out
of print, but the numbers of Tip Top that you ask about
are still in print.

opin

Recotd for Amateur Game.

\ The St. Mary’s and East Bridgeport, Conn., teams re-
cently hung up a record for amateur baseball when they
fought a nine-inning battle in forty-nine minutes. A.
Schorndorf, of St. Mary’s, allowed neither hit nor run,
pitched but eighty-nine balls, an average of 9.8 per inning,
and fanned thirteen men. In five innings he struck out
the first two batters up.

Puts Phonograph in Stables for Racets.

“Bill” Perkins, a well-known horse trainer,
liever in music to sooth nervous racers. :

Perkins, when at the Latonia, Ohio, race course, in-
stalled a phonograph in his stable. The stable hands
worked it overtime. The trainer says there is nothing
like music to quiet a nervous horse just before it goes to
the post or returns from a race. He says the animals
prefer ragtime.
Perkins thinks he has solved a great problem. Nerv-
- ousness is characteristic of the thoroughbred, something
trainers have been unable to cure. Perkins believes his
‘Idea in soothing strained nerves with music may mean an
evolution of training methods.

{

;
is a be-

Can Find no Fault,-

Dear Epitor: Although I have not been a reader of
_ Tre Tor for more than a year, I am sure there is no
better weekly. It is the cleanest of the clean, and any
one can read it, man, woman, or child, I can find no
- fault with this king of weeklies.
In answer to Mr. S. N. L., of Troy, who tried to
make fun of the great and glorious South, I would like
to tell him that duels, white-whiskered “kurnels,” and
fox hunts exist only in “Uncle Tom’s Cabin,” and his five-

NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY.

cent-novel imagination. “Uncle Tom’s Cabin” was writ-
ten by an éxcitable woman, who thought the negroes ate
cottonseed.

Mr. S. N. L., I wish your name had been published,

as I would like to write to you and extend to you an

invitation to visit the sunny South. As for feuds, they
exist everywhere, principally in the frozen North. If you
read the letter in issue No. 104 with disgust, how, in the
name of indignation, will you read mine?

Mr. Standish, will you please send me a set of those
cards?

What would be the measurement of a boy 15 years of
age and 5 feet 10 inches tall?
From a loyal Tip Topper,

Vaider, Miss.

We have mailed you the cards.

Your correct measurements should be: 160 pounds;
neck, 15.2 inches; chest, contracted, 36.7 inches; chest,
expanded, 40.4 inches; waist, 32.4 inches; forearm, 11.5
inches; upper arms, down, 12.1 inches; upper arms, up,
13.5 inches; thighs, 13.4 inches; calves, 15.2 inches.

FRANK WILEY:

Five [Pretty Daughters Lute Workers to Farm,

Ambrose Huntington, a farmer, living west of Giltner,
Neb., is not worrying over the scarcity of farm hands.
He has all the men he needs to help him and has found
it necessary to turn away fifty or more others, while
his neighbors are unable to hire help or to keep it when
they. get it.

Huntington owes his good fortune to his ingenuity in
preparing a sign which he posted on the highway i in front
of his place. It read:

“I need five hands for more than a month. Wages, $3
per day; chicken once a day; washing and mending done;
beds in the haymow. Every worthy young man hired will
have a chance toemarry one of my five pretty daughters.
If he wins one of them he gets 160 acres of land thrown
in. But he’s got to make good in more ways than
one.” x

The five lucky men chosen from the applicants are
hard at work. However, they are far from happy, for it
has become known that the five daughters, ranging from
eighteen to twenty-six years old, are planning to depart
in a day or two for an extended vacation in New
England.

Sprint King.
Dias Eprtor: I have been a reader of Tie Top for

twelve years. I take a great pleasure in reading letters in,
the Applause Column, and always turn to them first.

There seems to be sonsidésable knocking going on against —

the Clancy stories, and I thought I would let you know a)

what I think of them. For my part the Clancy stories

were O. K., and I think most of the older readers would
favor them for a change, but it seems all the, new readers”
want Chip.

One reader writes the Clancy stories “lacked. snap,” ma

another writes “Clancy in the dark.” How about those -
aéroplane stories? I wonder if they read them?
sure they didn’t lack any “snap.” What stories could be
more up to date? Anything that’s 4p to date surely
couldn’t be “in the dark.” —

What became of the Sprint King stories? Has Mr.
Standish’s work on these been for naught? How about
it? I presume the majority will rule, and if the readers
want Merriwell, that’s het 3 we'll get.

'

Il am:

Of the Merriwells, ty ;

  
   
   
  

eae

 

 

  

 
    
 
   
   
   
 

 

 
   

 
  
  

 
   
           
     
       
  
    
      
 

 
 

     

   
     
   
  
 

I like Dick best and Frank, senior, next best. The Frank,
junior, stories are all right, but I am down on the lead-
ing player, Chip. I, too, think he is a “mollycoddle” and
a “boob.” He tries to make a mash on every girl he
‘2 meets.
vt I would like. to see the Sprint King stories in print,
, and hope the readers who are in favor of them would
make their “holler.”
This is my second letter to Tip, Top and trust it will
be published. Yours, “SLIM,”
McKeesport, Pa.

‘Mr. Standish had made his plans for a series about
Sprint King, but the readers would not have it that
way.

Champion Finds Freak Boxer.

“Knock-out” Mars, who was defeated at Cincinnati,
Ohio, by Johnny Kilbane, featherweight champion, proved
to be the freakiest boxer a champion has ever been com-
pelled to face. Mars, while he lasted the entire route,
made a poor showing, although he prevented Kilbane
from landing a knock-out by his odd method of boring
in with head lowered to his waist and raising it up under
the champion’s chin.

Hardly Wait for “Tip Top.”
Dear Eprtror: I have been reading Tir Top for a long
1; time, and can hardly wait for the new issues to come out.
' The Clancy stories were very good, but I like the Mer-
riwells best.

If you have any catalogues of the Merriwell series, I
would like to have one.

I have tead a lot of different weeklies, but have picked
out Tie Top as the best of all.

I am 14 years of age, and am § feet 2% inches in
height. Could you tell me what my measurements
should be?.

Hoping to see this letter in the next Tir Tor, I re-
main, a loyal Tip Topper, Harry McCotium.

. Atlantic Highlands, N. J.

The catalogue has been mailed to you.

Your measurements should be: Weight, 103.3 pounds;
neck, 12.2 inches; chest, contracted, 29.9 inches; che&t,
expanded, 32.2 inches; waist, 24.8 inches; forearms, 9
inches; upper arms, down, 8.3 inches; upper arms, up,
9.9 inches; thighs, 17 inches; calves, 11.6 inches.

“oe = OY. ‘ost ow >a

Not a Walk in Nineteen Innings,

A record probably was broken at McNary, La., when a
nineteen-inning game was played and not a base on balls
was issued. The game was played between the McNary
Cady Quality Club and the fast Eunice Club, the latter
being defeated 1 to 0. Aside from the brilliant pitching

- of Smith, for McNary, and Dupuy, for Eunice, fast field-
ing featured. The winners have challenged any team in
Louisiana.

 

 

e : Liked No. 110,

2 Dear Eprror: I have just finished reading No. 110,
cr Teh New Tip Top, and I found it contained a-very interesting
* story, introducing some of Frank Merriwell’s old college
‘ chums. ;

if : I bought several old numbers of Tip Top from an
e ‘exchange bureau, and one of them was No. 197, which

_ contained “Frank Merriwell’s Flot, or. The Awakening

  

NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY.

   
   
    
   
   
  
   
  
   
     
  
   
   
   
   
  
 
  
     
   
     
   
   
   
   
    
    
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
     
    
      
       
   
   
   
   
   
      

of Badger.” The story was about Merry’s adventures at
Yale, and was one of the best stories I ever read.

I have many numbers of old weeklies and libraries,
and a lot of New Medal Libraries, which I will sell at
a reasonable price or exchange for old Tre Tors. I will
send lists to those who are interested.

I am also a reader of your Top-Notch Magazine, which
I have read for about a year. I remain, yours, a true
Tip Topper, SAMUEL OLNHAUSEN.

824 Chester Avenue, East Liverpool, Ohio.

Man Rescued by Gitl’s Fist.

Fannie Stinger, of Philadelphia, Pa., struck Howard
Winters, a young man, knocked him senseless, and was
arrested for it. At the hearing she admitted striking
Winters and declared she did it with her fist.

“I was walking along the street,” she said, “when I
saw Winters beating Albert Seise, I pleaded with Win-
ters to stop becatise Albert recently returned from Mount
Alto, where he was under treatment for tuberctilosis, and
was tittakle to take care of himself. When I found I
could not sepatate the fighters, and saw Seise bleeding
and bruised, I struck Winters in the face. I did not
use any weapon, either.” .

The young woman was released under $500 bail to
keep the peace.

Greatest Weekly. ;

Dear Epitor: It is a pleasure to write to you for the “a
purpose of expressing my appreciation of Tre Top 5
WEEKLY, the greatest of all weeklies for boys.

I love to read about Frank, Dick, Chip Merriwell, and
Owen Clancy. . The characters are true to life, and are
all very interesting. Old Joe Crowfoot and Doc Fisher .
are the most interesting of all, apart from the Merri-
wells.

What has become of Chet and June Arlington?

One thing I must say, I do not like the changing of
characters. Stick to the Merriwells forever. I think
that is the opinion of nearly all other loyal Tip Toppers.

This Mexican I am reading about is a very bad sort of .
a man to deal with, and I wish old Joe Crowfoot would
have ended him, for I think he means trouble for the
Merriwells.

Hoping to see this in print, I remain, a loyal Tip
Topper, and I always will be.

A Boy From Prorta, Itt.

P. S. I think the new cover for the Tre Tor is fine—
“A pleasing and noble face.”

HSE

,

 

a” garb
i eee

A Soldier’s Letter.
One of the countless mothers in France with sons at —
the front received the other day the first news of him.
Within an envelope addressed to her in an unknown
hand were two letters, the first written in the same hand
as the outside address and the second in a hand familiar —
to her. This was a letter from her son and read as —
follows: : inf
“Dear Parent: If you receive this letter I shall have
been killed. Do not weep for me, since my fate is the
most splendid of which a Frenchman can dream—to die —
for his country on the eve of victory; for I am sure
we shall conquer. e have the right and the confidence
on our side and I shall have done my duty to the
end. Li : ;

    
  

“IT hope that my death will be useful to the country
and regret only the sorrow you will feel. But you may
console yourself with the thought that as a Frenchman
I have given all to my country, and that I died after
being reconciled to God. My last thoughts will have been
of you. (Signed) ——, Corporal —— Dragoons.”

The other letter was from a priest, describing the
soldier’s death as that of a hero, assuring the mother he

» Was properly buried, and concluding: “You will come
to his tomb after the war.”

Iron Bricks Bought by Banks.

A cripple visited the three banks in Amsterdam, N. Y.,
and, in an indifferent manner, threw down packages sup-
posed to contain fifty one-cent pieces, each wrapped in
the customary paper used for this purpose. He asked that
he be given half dollars for them, and his request was
granted. When the packages were opened, they were
found to contain nothing but small iron bars, having the
dimensions of a package of fifty pennies. The matter
was reported to the police by a bank after the man had
tried to work the game there, but he had disappeared.

Using Dynamite to Make Trees Grow.

Until rocently a stick of dynamite was about the last
thing a fruit grower would have thought of taking
along when he went to plant some young trees. Now,
however, science is urging that the explosive be used in
the planting as an: effective means of hurrying the tree’s
growth and making it yield more fruit. Experience shows
that the explosion of a dynamite charge in the earth
makes just the sort of a hole in which a tree will thrive
best.

When an explosive is employed, sions of a spade,
the soil is shaken up and fissured for a comparatively
wide area beyond the hole actually required for the
tree. When, as often happens, there is hard subsoil
beyond reach of the spade, this is also opened and
fissured.

Experience has shown that trees planted in ground
prepared by explosives’ make a much more vigorous and
rapid growth than when planted in the ordinary way.
_ Some trees have begun bearing after four years, while

others similarly situated, but spade planted, did not yield

fruit until six years.

Some New Inventions.
William H. Thomas, ‘ninety-three years old, of Los
_ Angeles, Cal., has just obtained patent rights upon a new
lock, “the champion,”
lock picker. \
___A solid-rubber tire has been invented to be placed over
an automobile tire that has ,been punctured, this doing
service until repairs can be ainde.

‘To avoid fire danger in places where gasoline must be
used, an inventor has patented a swinging btacket to
hold a tank outside a window, yet bring it within reach
when needed.

Shears with one blade saw-edged and the other knife-
edged, have been invented to enable an inexperienced

person to carve poultry neatly.

An Ilinois man has patented clamps to hold paint
brushes on the ends of poles at any angle, to save painters
he need of ladders.

_ A new air rifle of high power is equipped with a safety

  
 
 

NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY.

      

which he says defies the skill of any —

   

wishes to do so.

Folding rods, with wheels at their lower ends, hive

been patented to help bear the burden of hand baggage.

Origin of House Numbers,

It was in the year 1513 the idea of numbering houses
so that they can be easily identified struck the fancy of
a Parisian architect, but it was not until nearly three cen-
turies later that the system became at all general.

In Berlin an eccentric method of numbering the houses
was first adopted. They were numbered without any ref-
erence whatever to the name of the street.
address would be described merely as “1,000 Berlin.” In
St. Petersburg an excellent way of displaying the num-
bers is employed—little lanterns bear the numbers on the
glass, so that they can be seen after dark.

“In the later Stuart times,” says Macaulay, the his-
torian, “the houses of London were not numbered, and
there would, indeed, have been little advantage in num-

A tenant’s

bering them, for of the coachmen, charmen, porters, and |

errand boys of the city, a very small proportion could
read. It was necessary to use marks which the most
ignorant could understand. The shops were, therefore,
distinguished by painted or sculptured signs, which gave
a very gay and grotesque aspect to the streets.”

Modern Inventions Make War Deadlier.

A fact which suggests itself to every one who thinks
about the mighty struggle in Europe is that war is a great
deal deadlier now than it was two or three decades ago,
and far more so than it was, for instance, at the time of
the Franco-Prussian War, forty-four years ago.

At that time rifles firing brown powder and carrying
a bullet flying so far and fast as to kill at 4 mile were
unknown. Those equipped with the best guns had to get
fairly close together to make their shots effective. There
has been a corresponding improvement in artillery. There

are guns which throw heavy shells through formidable.

walls of masonry and steel, and explosives, the deadly

use of which even tribunals of peace have attempted in ©

vain to restrict. A deadly hail issues from an unseen

. enemy, Men fight back but fail to see the results of
There have been wonderful changes in~

their efforts.
naval architecture and equipment. The battleships of
that time would stand a slender chance alongside modern
vessels of half their size. The guns can carry farther,
can be more accurately timed, and more rapidly fired.
Warships are better protected than ever before.

The possibilities of devastation and destruction which

airships and aéroplanes can deal out have been tested

already in the present war, and it is easy to believe
that the result can be made more terrible. One of the
functions for which the airship of to-day is adapted was
performed in the Franco-Prussian War by balloons. Dur-
ing the German siege of Paris in 1870, balloons piloted

by daring aéronauts flew over the German lines and were ©

fired upon. A French and a German aéronaut fought a
duel while their balloons were 300 feet above Fort
Clarenton. The Frenchman succeeded in piercing the en-
velope of the German craft, which collapsed and fell to
the earth. Pigeons once carried dispatches from one
force, completely surrounded by the enemy, to another,
outside the encircling lines. This function is one which
aéroplanes and wireless telegraphy have usurped.

——

 
 
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
   
 
    
 
   
   
   
  
  
  
  
   
   
  
    
     
   
   
  
   
  
   
  

  
   

device to prevent the trigger being pulled until its user ae

    
 

See

 

 

 

      
       
       
     
       
     
     
       
       
    
    
       
       
    
  

 

 

=

ee Re NEP Mere -= 5

 

 

ing in of enormous quantities of fish eggs.

 

The effective’ use of shrapnel fire, as in evidence in
modern field-artillery operations, was unknown in other
great wars. Shrapnel is burst over and*short of the
object fired at and is designed for use against troops
in the open or sheltered behind light screens. By being
burst over earthworks, the bullets will search out the
troops sheltered behind. Shrapnel was used in our Civil
War, but it had not been developed as it is to-day. It
was not many years ago when 3,600 yards was considered
a good shrapnel range. It is said that the new French
guns have an effective shrapnel range of 6,000 yards.
The European war is the first great conflict in which
motor vehicles have been largely employed for transporta-
tion and field service. Photographs in leading papers
show motor trucks drawing French artillery and ammu-
nition into position, The Germans, French, and British
have tapid-fire guns on motor trucks. It will be remem-
bered that officers in automobiles led the German ad-
vance into Belgium. The general use of automobiles has
made a marked change in conditions of warfare. All this
is a far cry from the mule-team and horse-drawn serv-
ice and commissary equipment of previous wars.
Armored steel automobiles for use by the European
powers are being manufactured in Philadelphia and will
be shipped as soon as completed A large New Eng-
land company will mount rapid-fire guns on the cars.

Matty Meets His Match in Checker Contests.

Christy Mathewson, the New York Giants’
pitcher, would rather play checkers than eat, and he is
as good at checkers as at baseball. Also, he now knows
where he can get a battle in the “your-move” game when-
ever he hankers for one. He made the discovery in Chi-
cago, when a game between the Giants and the Chicago
Cubs was ¢alled off, early in the fall, on account of
tain.

With time heavy on his hands, Matty sauntered into
the smoking rooms of the Board of Trade. Possibly he
had heard of the checker players holding forth there
and wanted to meet them in their own stronghold. At
any rate, he was welcomed.

Charles E. Baker was selected as Matty’s first opponent.
After about two hours of deep mental effort, Matty
emerged with three games lost. Then, to fill Mathewson’s
cup of woe, Charles Baker, son of Charles E., defeated
the veteran pitcher in one game. After it was over,
Matty said: “Baker, Baker, I have heard that name be-

fore.” He was evidently thinking of “Home-run” Baker,
of the Philadelphia Athletics. Before Mathewson left
the Board of Trade it is reported that another checker
player, Hamilton by name, beat him.

/ b

Test of Big Guns Spoils Fish Crop.

For more than a week, residents of every beach along

the New Jersey and Long Island shores noticed the float-
At first it
was believed that they were young jellyfish, which at
times are common along the shores, but it developed that
they were fish eggs in myriad millions, jarred loose from
their beds by the deétonations of the big guns at the
government proving grourfds at Sandy Hook, near New
York City.

Sent down the eid River from the inenal at
 Watervtiet, the big guns have been tested at Sandy Hook,

aid, if found to be perfect, hutried on’ the coast fortifica-

“NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY.

famous:

 

tions for which they were designed. Many of the guns
are being sent to Panama, others to fortifications up and
down the Atlantic and Pacific coasts.

When one of these monster rifles is tested it sends out
a roar that jolts and jars the atmosphere for many miles
around. The detonation is heard as far as Long Beach,
twenty-five miles from the proving grounds, and the fol-
lowing concussion in the jar sways buildings. It is this
that jars the sea and releases the fish eggs from their
clusters on the sandy bottom.

Being released from their beds in untold millions, the
eggs cannot hatch into fish. It will mean, according to
fishermen, that there will be a lean crop of sea fish.
Many of the big fish come in to feed on the eggs, and
when they find. there are none, they will go into deep
water again.

Pays $32.50 for Punch on Jaw.

The payment of $12.50 cash by Bill Roes, of the Worces-
ter, Mass., baseball team, to Charles Horace Hickman,
of the Portland, Me., club, ended what bade fair to become
one of the baseball sensations of the year, in Portland, at
least.

It is a matter of history that a swift punch in the

jaw inflicted by Roes upon his smaller fellow pastimer
at Worcester last week resulted in putting Hickman’s
teeth out of commission for good and all.
’ When Roes reached here this week, Hickman instituted
legal proceedings against the Worcester man for the re-
covery of the price of teeth and for punitive damages for
humiliation suffered by him in having to play ball in
public without teeth.

Papers were served upon Roes, and that player gave |
bail for his appearance in court next morning, Secre-
tary O’Donnell offered to settle the case in behalf of
Roes for $12.0, but at the time this seemed an insuffi-
cient sum to the plaintiff in the case.

Later, through the intervention of Manager Dufty, the
plaintiff decided to accept the $12.50 previously offered.
The same was paid over, and the case is now closed.

A New Way to Ring Chimes,

The great bells in. the church towers are now being
rung by electricity, a device having been invented by
means of which the pressing of a button in the sacristy
starts the chimes. The bells continue to ring-until stopped
by the pressure of a second button. .

For more than two years, says a New York writer, Mr.
Robischung, the inventor of the device, has been. work-
ing on the model of this invention. The idea was ‘first |
stiggested by the rector of the Holy Redeemer Church,
who is regarded as an expert in applied science.

The five bells weigh almost six tons. The inventor first
tried the expériment of ringing a bell weighing from —
twerity to thirty pounds.

Man Regains Lost Mind and Farm.

After losing his valuable farm while temporarily in-
sane and being a county charge for five years, William —
Nelson, fifty-seven years old, of Greeley, Col., has béen
awatded a decree in the district court that restores his

equity in one of the most valuable farms in Weld County

and allows him to foreclose ‘on a deed of trust that he ©
held. The story of William Nelson’s misfortuttes is itn
teresting. ‘
For ten years he lost his identity through temporary

  

  
 

   
 
   
    
   
 

 
  

 
  

     
  
   

   
    
   
 

During that time he

insanity caused hy. business cares.
made a deed of trust to his creditors and sold the farm,
taking another deed of trust from N. G. Waldo, with
the understanding that the first deed would be paid off.
The first deed never was paid, but the farm was fore-

closed and Waldo’s son bought it in. He. then conveyed
it to his father, and from that time, 1891, Nelson lost
his identity and remembered nothing more until ten years
later.

Records traced him to the Ohio Insane Asylum, where
he was an inmate for several years before he escaped. At
that time he came back to Greeley, selling a book entitled
“Thirty Years in Hell.”

Closeness to his old home and surroundings began to
clarify his mind, atid slowly he began to remember that
he once owned a farm in this district. How he lost it
was not plain for a time, but it finally dawned on him,
and he consulted a local attorney, who took an interest
in his case and carried it through the courts for three
years before getting the decree.

Waldo, in the meantime, had released the original deed
of trust made by him and apparently had a clear title
to the land. When Nelson made his case in court, the
release of the deed of trust was set aside and he can now
foreclose on it. The land is a hundred-and-sixty-acre
farm, worth $40,000.

This Mule Has ‘Toothache.

Henry May, who lives near Dodd City, Ark., has a mule
which has the toothache just like a man, and the mule
makes just as much fuss about the pain as if it were
human. Recently, while May was driving from town, the
mule slowed down and seemed ill. May decided the ani-
mal had some disease of the moyth. He took the animal
to a veterinary and found that it had three badly ulcerated
teeth. These were pulled.

Five Brothets Coach Pitcher.
‘Howard Ehmke, the nineteen-year-old pitching sensa-

tion of the, Pacific Coast League, whose string of vic- ~

tories with the Los Angeles, Cal., team made him known
throughout the United States, has been coached in recent
years by five older brothers, all of whom are pitchers,
and whose ambition is to see Howard play with a
major-league team.

Invents Daylight Spectacles.

H. E. Ives, a widely known doctor and scientist, has
invented some spectacles which annihilate darkness and
make the wearer see in light similar to that given by the
sun. For years screens have been employed in some in-
dustries in front of electric or gas lights, tHe filtered
rays being virtually the same as daylight, but much of

the lignt is lost by this method. Doctor Ives uses col-
ored glasses, which screen off the unwahted rays so that
_ the eye appears to see only in daylight.

Can’t Stop Her Habit of Sleepwlaking.

At best a night policeman’s lot “is not a happy one,”
_an old song tells us, but when there is added to a copper’s
regular duties such another one as keeping a weather
eye out for sleepwalkers--especially those of the softer
-sex—well, “what’s a fellah like me to do?” asks Patrol-
man Tim Murphy, of the St. Louis force.

 
  

NEW TIP TOP WEEKLY.

. tion.
‘inches.

The “champion” somnambulist of the city, without _

doubt, is Tillie Schaunerer. Sleepwalking seems to be

a confirmed habit with Tillie. It’s a cold night, Murphy ,
says, when Tillie fails to show up on his or the other
have been inter- —

fellow’s beat. Her nocturnal strolls
rupted by the police more than a dozen times in the last
two months. The last occasion was when she narrowly
escaped walking into an automobile at Channing and Bell
Avenues at two o'clock in the morning. The chauffeur
overturned his car to avoid a collision.

The chauffeur was driving his employer home and was
about to cross Channing Avenue, when a woman, clad
in a nightgown and carrying an empty revolver, started
across the street in the path of the machine. The chauf-
feur turned his car suddenly to the south to avoid striking
the woman and hit the temporary tracks of the Hodiamont
line with such force that the machine was thrown over
on its side. Both of the men in the car were hurled to
the pavement, but escaped with bruises.

The woman, still asleep, and unconscious of the acci-
dent she had caused, was turned over to a patrolman,
who disarmed her, awakened her, and took her home.

A few weeks ago Tillie walked in her sleep ten blocks .
from her home. On that occasion her relatives told the
policeman who accompanied her home that they believed
the only way they could stop her from leaving home in
her sleep was to put extra locks on her bedroom door.

To Shoot Ducks ftom Aeroplane.

Ducks will be hunted in the Louisiana marshes and
on the Mississippi coast during the winter with the aid of
a hydroaéroplane, which is now being constructed by
Claude Cullinane, secretary of the Gulfport, Miss., Elks
club, and a sportsman of note in the Southern States.
Cullinane will equip the plane with a 100-horse-power
engine, and says that he is sure that with the craft he
can successfully negotiate many places that heretofore it
has been impossible to reach. ;

%

Shows a Seventeen-foot Cornstalk.

G. W. Carroll, a farmer near Lampasas, Texas, is ex-
hibiting the tallest stalk of corn ever seen in. this sec-
The stalk measures seventeen feet and

It is of the variety known as June corn: and
was planted in May and had no moisture except regular
rains.

The land upon which the corn was grown is rough and

rocky and would not be selected as choice corn land) —

All of the corn in the field has grown to a remarkable.
height.

Man’s Energy Unbelievable.

By a series of experiments and calculations it has been
figured that a powerful man, working for twenty-four
hours, expends enough energy to lift a third-class cruiser
of the United States navy out of the water. A person,
in walking ten miles, expends enough force to raise 800
tons a foot from the ground. The figures also show
that during the lifetime of a man he uses enough force
to carry his body all \the way to the sun, a distance of
92,885,000 miles.

 

 

OLD COINS WANTED—

$1 to $600 paid for hundreds of coins dated before 1895.

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