Tip Top Weekly No. 52: Frank Merriwell's Dash — page 30: what you’re looking at

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

a3 FRANK MERRIWELL'S DASH. won. The hammer-throwing was to fol-{he exclaimed. a minute."’ low, and he was entered for the contest. In the hammer-throwing contest Yale had another opportunity to yell, for Hick- ok was again the winner over all others, making a record of one hundred and twenty-three feet and nine inches. ““They are coming out in He was watching the point where tlie runners must first appear. His hand shook on the rail. The runners appeared. The first was Beatty, the Harvard man, and the Har- The contests followed each other in| vard crowd ‘‘hoo-rahed”’ hoarsely. Then swift succession, and Yale more than|came Mansford, of Princeton, and the held her own. the wearers of the blue should not be jubi- lant. At last, the races came on. Up in the There was no reason why | Tigers let themselves loose. Jetting, of Dartmouth, followed, and the New Hampshire lads greeted him in a manner that brought the blood to his cheeks. Flemming box were three lads who were| Then little Judd, the U. P. man, trotted anxiousy awaiting the annouucement of the one-mile run. Despite the triumph which he felt, Fred Flemining betrayed a sort of hilari- ous nervousness as he chatted with his sisters and his friends. | Watching Fred closely, Tom Thorn- ton saw that he was under a strain. And again Thornton wondered what had be- come of Frank Merriwell. Princeton won one of the shorter races, and Harvard won another. In each of these a Yale man was second. “If Mr. Merriwell had contented hiim- self with being less ambitious he might be here to-night,’? said Flemming, in an aside to his college comrades. Emery and ‘Thornton exchanged glances. There was a significance about such language that could not be misun- derstood. Thornton shivered a bit, and, unconsciously, drew back from Flem-| ming. The excitement of the evening was at its highest pitch thus far. ants for yet another race were getting into position, and, in another moment, they were off like a pack of greyhounds. This time a Yale man carried his col- ers to victory, and the ‘*Sons of Old Eli’ yelled their approval and delight. | Yale was doing nobly. This night she was making a record for herself that! would be remembered. The contest-. out, and he was received with howls of delight from the Quakers. . ‘‘Now—now comes Yates!’ cried Fred Flemming. The Yale man appeared, and Flemming stood up to cheer. He dropped into his seat as if he had been shot, his face turn- ing ashen gray, and the cheer dying on his lips. “Good heavens !"? gasped Tom Thorn- ton. ‘‘It is Frank Merriwell!”’ But his exclamation was drowned by the mighty cheer which greeted the ap- pearance of the Yale standard-bearet, eee Gees eee CHAPTER XII. TO VICTORY. ‘“Merriwell! Merriwell! "Rah! ‘rah! "rah! | It was a mighty roar of voices. Then came the well-known Yale yell, which was repeated again and again. ‘The en- tire Yale crowd was standing, wildly wav- ing hands, hats, flags, handkerchiefs,. anything and everything that could be found to wave. It was an ovation that imight have gladdened the heart of an em- peror. | It was not strange that the sound nerved the Yale man to vow within him- self to die in the effort to win for dear Old Eh’? if he could not win other- 1sé. Ww But now came the greatest race of all | But upin one of the boxes not far —the mile run. Preparations were made | from the starting point were three young for it, and feverish anticipation swayed|men who were utterly overcome with the great multitude. amazement and consternation. One of Fred Flemming was literally quivering |them had a face that was drawn and pale, as he leaned over the rail of the box. ‘‘Let’s give Yatesie a great send-off !?? las if he had received a mortal wound. e¢ ? " > What's it mean, Elem? kts co