Tip Top Weekly No. 61: Frank Merriwell in the Mines — page 10: what you’re looking at

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

$s : ‘PRANE MERRIWELL IN THE MINES. “The bullwhacker picked up Toots? | This trick was performed as neatly and bicycle and fear of what would happen to! gracefully as possible. The lash snatched the wheel unloosed the colored boy’s|the revolver from. the ruffian’s fingers, tongue. |jsnapped it into the air and sent it spin- | “G way, dar, man!’’ squawked the|ning toward Merriwell, who deftly caught darky, in fear. dat, yo's suah gwan teh smash hit! Don’ yo’ try teh git on dat bisuckle!” “If yo’ tries teh ride| the weapon. Then just as Boze was reaching for another ‘‘gun,’’ the big man found him- He started toward Boze, who turned in'self. ‘‘covered’’ by the revolver he had surprise. A roar of anger broke from the big ruffian, and then his whip cut through the air. Toots tried to get out of the way, but the lash caught him, and he gave a yell of pain. to strike again, but it was snatched from his grasp by Frank Merriwell, whose eyes | were flashing, and who cried: “You cowardly ruffan! ‘Try a taste of your own inedicine!”’ Then with all the strength he could | command Frank sent the lash snapping drawn a moment before, that revolver being in the hand of the boy who had wielded the whip. “Go slow, you big ruffan!’’ rang out Frank’s voice. even as miserable a creature as you, but you’ll force me todo it in self-defense if you try to draw.”’ Boze suddenly became motionless as if turned to stone, for he saw the boy had i‘*the drop,’’ and there was something in 'Merriwell’s manner that convinced the ‘ruffian it would not be ‘‘healthy’ to try and curling round | the bullwhacker’s | ‘to get out another revolver. : bod ye CHAPTER II. | _ NERVY TENDERFEET. “Wow! Wa-a-a-ow! | Murder! ooh 1"? : The astounded bullwhacker leaped Snip! voice behind. Pete. Oo-oo-!dream—ur what?’ | “It’s no dream a said a | oie even. “That boy is able to. Crooked Pete nearly painted from sheer amazement. ‘Whatever is this yere I beholds ” he ‘ gasped, rubbing his eyes. ‘Is this a the air, uttering the wildest howls of take care of himself, if he is a tender- pain. ble that a human being had dared strike him with his own whip. ~~ “*Holy cats!” aghast. ‘Thar’ll be some. tenderfeet fitted fer Digutin: directly |? -. Searcely were the words uttered when Ben Boze snatched out a huge revolver, al whiter than the long hair of its rider. ‘He could scarcely believe it. possi- foot. 7 The speaker was a striking-looking man, astranger in Silver Bluff, having cried Crooked Pete, |arriv red there that very morning.. He was ““Now look ont fer bullets! tall and straight, well. proportioned. and supple in his movements. He had ridden into town on a snow-white horse, whose flowing mane and tail were scarcely “murderous look on his bewhiskered face. | The mustache of the man was iron- “gray, . But before the man could use the ‘weapon his own whip in the hands of ‘Frank Merriwell cut the air again. The lash of the whip curled round the barrel of the revolver, and the weapon was snatched from the big ruffian’s hand. and his eyes were black as night, piercing and powerful. His face had a noticeable pallor, but it was not the pallor of weak- ness. His jaw was square, and there was sternness and resolution about his face and his. manner. “If you try to pull an-. | other gun I’ll bore you sure! I don’t. The bullwhacker swurtg back the whip/ ant to shoot ECOMICLO® SS (CO) an