Tip Top Weekly No. 52: Frank Merriwell's Dash — page 13: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

10 took part in races, realizing that, good| though he was, there were still better men. Frank had on a Joose thin shirt, and a light-weight suit of clothes. He caught up a cap, and announced that he was ready to go with Paul, They went out, and soon were crossing the campus. Having arrived at a point quite outside the college grounds, Paul paused and said: ‘“We will start from here and make a run out into the country. I will set the pace going out, but when we turn to come back, it will be a case of the best man gets home first. The termination of the run will be your room.” ‘That is satisfactory,’? nodded Frank. Far away a band of jolly students were singing ‘‘Stars of the Summer Night,” their melodious voices making sweet music beneath the great elms. The soft breath of June came across the campus, seeming to gently bear the words of the beautiful song to their ears. ‘Are you ready?’ asked - Pierson, sharply. *S All ready.” - **Then here we go.”? They were off, shoulder to shoulder. Although Frank had not seemed to prepare for the run, he had put on his running shoes, feeling that he might ab- solutely need them. Along the streets of New Haven they went, attracting but little attention, as it was not an uncommon sight at that sea- son to see some of the college lads taking a night run in that manner. They passed a group of fellows who were standing beneath a street light near a corner. “Bere!” softly exclaimed one of the group; ‘‘who are these chaps?”’ The entire party turned to take a look at the runners. ‘tTt’s Pierson 3 “And Merriwell!’ FRANK MERKEIWELL'S DASH. “What did I tell you, Yates! ex- claimed Fred Flemming, a ring of satis- faction in his voice. “Well, may I be kicked!’ growled Duncan Yates, as he stared after the two lads, who had passed and were scudding along the street at a steady trot. ‘‘Flem seldom makes a niistake,’’ mur- mured Tom Thornton. ‘But Merriwell is not in his rig,’ said Andy Emery, the fourth one of the group. “That doesn’t make any difference,’ declared Flemming. ‘‘He is taking a run with Pierson, and that proves what I told Yates. You all know how that chap un- dermined meonthecrew. I don’t say that he can’t row, mind you—I do not claim that I could have done any better than he did; but I do claim that he is full ofsuch sneaking underhand tricks, and I knew he was trying for something when I saw him stop Pierson on the campus to- day.’” Yates was silent, staring along the street, down which the two runners had disappeared. ‘“Come, old man!’ cried Flemming, slapping Yates on the back, ‘‘let’s go into Morey’s, and sit down, where we can have a drink and talk this matter over.” Duncan shook his head. **T won’t go in there,’’ he said. ' . “Why not?” ‘YT am in training, you know, and some- body would see me drinking there. That would kick up some talk.” ‘‘Well, will you go anywhere?’ . ‘“Yes, Ill. go somewhere that we can sit down in a quiet room, where there is no chance that fellows who know me will dropin. I feel just like having some- thing.’? “T knew the very place,’’ declared Fiemming. ‘‘Comeon.”? Then the quartette moved away, Flem- ming leading. In the mean time Merriwell and Pierson had continued on their way. As had been ECOMICLMO® SS (SO)