Tip Top Weekly No. 139: Frank Merriwell's Father — page 28: what you’re looking at

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

26 grow pale again and remain thus till he had finished. | “If it is necessary to do this in order to draw an audience,” she said, when she had heard all he had to say, “go ahead and do it without delay.” “Spoken like my little sweetehart!” ‘he cried, catching her in his arms and kissing her. Then Frank hastened to his own room and began work on that story. He was en- thusiastic over it, for he saw the possibilities of making it a “red hot sensation.” He did not leave out any thrills, and vet he told it in a style that no paper could find objectional. He did not name Lockwell, but simply called him “Blank, the jealous actor.” He explained how Lockwell had tried to injure the show in Kansas City by circulating false reports about it. This was his introduction, and then he went about telling why Lockwell had re- sorted to such a contemptible trick. When it was finished, Frank read it over to make corrections and put it in shape. There was a knock on the door as he was reading it, and Elsie entered at his call. He read it to her, and she was forced to confess that it was like a piece out of a thrilling novel. She pronounced it all right, and then Frank went away to find Folansbee. The man was walking restlessly up and down the office, smoking a cigar. “Well, Merriwell,” he said, “how has your idea panned out?” “Great!” cried Merry, thrusting the manu- script at him. “Here it is!” “This is it. Take it to a professional copy. me} and have a dozen typewritten copies made of it.” | : “Ts that allP Why 7 “Then. you are to go before a notary public and swear to its truthfulness, if necessary.” “Whew!” wistled the backer or the show. “What is all this?” “The story that will give us full houses after to-night:” , “A story?” : “Ves”? “And I am to swear it is true?” “You needn’t hesitate. It is true, as you will discover on reading it.” “What am I to do after ‘ “Get it into every Kansas City paper, the Sun in particular.” “What if they refuse to use it?” “They won't.”. “Some may.” “Then get it-in if you have to nail down the hard cash to have it run as a reading ad- _ It Was Terrible When Clif Was Hoisted Up that Old Flag Pole—True Blue No. 30. | : oe } JOON TIP TOP WEEKLY. vertisement, but be sure that it is placed in the regular news columns, with news matter on both sides of it. Get it in somehow— anyhow. That’s all. If it doesn’t win us good business, I’ll eat my hat! Go.” Folansbee went. From Frank he was be- ginning to learn the necessity of hustling, and he surprised himself in this instance. That afternoon there was a rehearsal. Be- fore entering the theatre by the stage en- trance, Frank appeared at the box office. “Any tickets sold yet?’ he asked. . “Not one,” was the answer. “That’s tough!” laughed Frank. “Hlave you considered my suggestion?” asked Renshaw. “Yes, and acted on it.” “You've worked the story up?’ “Sure thing.” “That’s right. I hope you have made it a good one.” “I’ve done my best on it. If it isn’t good, I can’t make a good one, that’s all. I am greatly obliged to you for the suggestion.” “Don’t mention it. It didn’t cost me any- thing, and it may be worth a heap to you.” The rehearsal was dull and spiritless, for the company was dejected, having heard the bad reports. Frank decided not to tell them about the story that was to appear in the pa- ers. P Midway in the rehearsal, Folansbee came sauntering in, looking well satisfied. “What luck?” asked Frank. “All right.” “You hit ’em?” | “Every one. I'll guarantee the story ap- pears in every paper to-morrow, if it misses any of them to-night.” 1 This was satisfactory to Merriwell, and, after listening to Folansbee’s story of his work in getting at the papers, he compli- mented him heartily. “Tt is plain to me that you are learning to get a move on,” he said. “Your friends won’t know you when you get back to St. Louis.” Somehow, after rehearsal, Frank felt like going round to the box office again, with the forlorn hope that at least a few seats had been. sold. He did so. | “How many seats have you sold?” he asked, with a laugh. | “Five hundred,’ answered Mr. Renshaw. “Ha! ha! hal’ laughed Merry. ‘Won't you cut that down a little, say about four hundred and ninety-nine?” “Not a blessed one,” declared the man in the box office. “I am not joking. I have sold just five hundred tickets, and I’ve got the cold cash for them, too.” Dog COMNMUC S (C(O)