Tip Top Weekly No. 80: Frank Merriwell as 'Anchor' — page 15: what you’re looking at

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

FRANK MERRIWELL: AS ANCHOR. 12 thought he had thoroughly investigated ou his downward trip. He remembered then that he had not looked in at any of the so-cailed private rooms at the back. This laughter evidently came from such a room, and he was quite certain that he distinguished Mellor’s voice, He waited a moment until the laughter ceased and then he heard this in thick accents: _“Shet ’em up ’gain! Ic’n rasshle any man °’n ’Nighted Shtatesh, drunk er shober.”’ It was Mellor’s voice, and Frank’s heart sank like lead. For one miserable instant he was in doubt as to what he had better do. His disgust and anger. were so great that he felt like leaving Mellor to his fate, for it would serve the fresliman tight to let him continue filling himself upand so lose all chance of making a decent appearance in the contests of the following evening. Then it occurred to Frank that after all there might be some little hope that Mellor could pull himself together suff- ciently to make a good effort. : In any event he was a Yale student, and as such Frank felt bound to look after him; so after the slightest hesita- tion he entered the side door of the saloon and opened a door leading ito the small room from which had come the laughter and the sound of Mellor’s voice. He saw the big freshman with a silly smile on his face seated at a table, hold- ing an empty glass unsteadily in his hand, and trying to talk with three com- panions, each of whom wore a rosette of orange colored ribbon upon the lapel of his coat. ‘None. of the three had been in the crowd with Higgins, so far as Frank could: remember their faces. They did not look up when Frank en- tered, for they supposed, as ‘Mellor him- self did, that the bar-tender was coming in to get an order. ““Fill ’em up!’? said Mellor, stupidly, rapping his glass upon the table. ‘‘Letsh _ have ’nother round.”’ His eyes were bleary, and although he glanced at Frank he failed to recognize him. The latter stood still for a second or two to control his indignation; before he spoke the bar-tender entered witha bottle of champagne, the cork of which was already drawn. ‘Cy suppose it’s the same, gents?” he said, in a business-like tone. ‘(Shame old Shampaggeny water,’’ re- turned Mellor, holding his glass upside down. One of the men at the table reached over and righted Mellor’s glass, which the waiter promptly proceeded to fill. ‘““Here’sh ter good ol’ Yale!’’ stam- mered Mellor, bringing the glass to his lips with the aid of the man who had helped him to hold it steady. Frank could remain quiet no longer. He reached over the table, and with a sweep of his arm knocked the glass from Mellor’s hand and sent it flying against the wall, where it broke in a hundred pieces. CHAPTER IV. A REPORTER'S INFLUENCE. The wine spattered in the face of the man who was helping Mellor. ‘The latter looked up in‘ stupid wrath, and then it dawned on him suddenly that the inter- ruption caine from his manager. : He gasped, hiccoughed, sat back in his chair and tried to rise. Meanwhile the other two fellows with the orange rosettes had sprang to their feet, and were trying to push Frank from the room. In this the waiter joined them, and, for a moment, therefore, Merriwell had his hands full. They were lively hands, though, and in much less time than it COMRniclooo S CO