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Frank Merriwell's Pursuit - How to Win
by Burt L. Standish
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"It's fascinating, fascinating!" exclaimed Inza. "I almost seem to feel something pulling me toward the water."

"It's a very dangerous feeling," smiled Merry. "You know that an average of sixteen suicides a year take place here at the falls. People cannot resist the fascination of the rushing water. Many times no real reason can be given for these acts of self-destruction. You know there are moments when every human brain falters and seems touched by the fleeting finger of insanity. People who stand on great heights often feel an almost irresistible longing to fling themselves down. Here they are attacked by a mad longing to cast themselves into the clutch of the rapids."

"Oh!" exclaimed Elsie, pale to the lips. "Let me get away—farther away!"

Inza offered assistance, but Elsie forced a laugh and declared she was all right. However, she leaned on the arm of Bart, and they retreated from the immediate edge of the rapids.

Frank watched them, unaware that Inza had stepped out on a stone that lifted its damp crest in the edge of the water.

Suddenly he was startled by a cry.

He whirled, and saw something that sent his heart into his mouth.

Inza was lying across the rock, with both feet in the water.

A man in black, the cape of his long cloak flapping about his shoulders like demon wings, was running from the spot, flourishing a stout, crooked cane.

As he passed Frank, fully fifteen feet away, the fleeing man—whom Merry knew as the same one who had so nearly accomplished Inza's destruction on the Canadian shore—cast at the youth one piercing look.

The eyes of the man were black as blackest night, but in their recesses gleamed a baleful fire of hatred and triumph.

The same eyes had glared at Merry through the transom of the Bowery hotel, in New York.

They were the eyes of Alvarez Lazaro, the avenger!

But they were also the eyes of Porfias del Norte!



CHAPTER XXIX.

IN CONSTANT PERIL.

The frightful peril of Inza commanded Frank's whole attention. He leaped toward her. He saw her slipping from the damp rock.

The eddying, swirling, hissing water was dragging at her feet. Inza's gloved fingers clutched vainly at the rock. She could obtain no detaining hold upon it.

She turned her white, bloodless face toward Frank, horror and despair in her dilated eyes. He reached her, swung out with one long stride to the rock, stooping and clutching her just as she must have been swept away.

His fingers closed on her arms with a grip like iron. He swung her to her feet and flung her into the hollow of his left arm. Then he turned and leaped back to the solid ground.

Inza had not fainted. She was limp and nerveless, but still conscious.

Of course, just then Frank's attention was given entirely to her; but the moment he realized she did not need him, he placed her gently on the ground and turned to look for the man in black who had fled past him.

By this time the attention of Bart and Elsie had been attracted. They saw something was the matter, and they hastened toward Inza.

"What is it—oh, what is it?" palpitated Elsie.

Frank turned to Hodge.

"Did you see that man?" he hoarsely asked.

Bart was startled and astounded by the terrible look on Merriwell's face and the glare in his usually kindly eyes.

"What man?"

"The one in black—the old man who nearly knocked Inza into the river over on the Canadian side."

"Was it him? I saw some one running, among the trees yonder. What happened, Merry? How did——"

"Look out for the girls—guard them," commanded Frank.

Then he sprang away with the speed of a deer, quickly disappearing from view in pursuit of the mysterious man, for he now knew that twice that day had that man made an attempt on the life of Inza Burrage.

In the meantime, Elsie was kneeling on the ground, her arms about Inza, trying to learn what had taken place.

"Your feet and the bottom of your skirt are dripping wet, dear," she said. "Did you slip? Did you fall into the water?"

Inza covered her colorless face with her hands. The fingers of her gloves were torn from her efforts to obtain a hold on the rock where she had fallen. She was shuddering all over.

"Tell me—tell me how it happened," urged Elsie.

"That man——" gasped Inza.

"The one Bart saw running away?"

"Yes, yes!"

"What did he do?"

"He pushed me!"

"Pushed you?" cried Bart, astounded and horrified.

"Pushed you?" burst from Elsie.

"With his cane," shuddered Inza.

"The monster!" cried Elsie.

"I had stepped out on that rock," explained Inza.

"Where was the man then?"

"I don't know. I didn't see him until I turned to look back. Then I saw him close by the edge of the water. I think he must have leaped out from behind the thick cedars yonder. He looked at me, and the expression on his face—— Oh!"

The quivering girl was overcome by the memory.

"Heavens!" palpitated Bart. "The old wretch tried to murder you! Is it possible he did, Inza?"

"I saw murder in his eyes," whispered Inza. "They were the most terrible eyes. He was a man with snow-white hair, yet he did not seem so very old. And his face—I have seen it before! Where? When?"

"You saw him on the Canadian side."

"I did not see him plainly then. I did not get a good look at his face. I know I have seen those eyes before. He seemed to laugh horribly as he lifted his cane, but no sound came from his lips. I thought he was going to strike me with the cane. Instead of that, he thrust the end against me and tried to give me a push that would send me from the rock into the rapids."

Elsie's arms tightened about her friend, and she trembled all over with the thought of such a thing.

"Like a flash I understood what he meant to do," continued the dark-haired girl. "I twisted about so that the full force of his thrust was lost; but in doing so I lost my balance. I thought it was all over, and I uttered a cry. At the same time, even as I was falling, I sought to drop on the rock. I succeeded in doing so, and there I lay, with my feet in the water. I could feel the water dragging at them! I felt myself slipping, slipping, slipping!"

She choked and covered her face with her hands.

Some of the others now approached and were startled to learn what had taken place.

The moment he heard about it a most astounding change came over Bruce Browning. The big fellow had been loitering along, apparently so weary that only by the greatest effort could he drag his feet; but in a twinkling he awoke to astonishing animation, asked which way Merry had gone, and a second later bounded away, covering the ground in mighty leaps.

Starbright and Morgan followed. Rattleton remained with Hodge to look after the girls.

There were other visitors on the islands. Soon the boys learned that the strange white-haired man in black had fled across the bridges to Goat Island, followed a few moments later by a young man.

When Goat Island was reached another man informed them that he had seen the old man in black leap into a waiting carriage, upon which the driver whipped his horses and sent them off at a great pace.

Merriwell had reached the spot a few moments later and had rushed across through the woods in an effort to head off the fugitive.

While Browning was making inquiries he was overtaken by Starbright and Morgan.

"There's only one way to get off this island," reminded Dade. "Come on!"

They raced through the leafless woods, causing all who saw them to turn and stare after them in astonishment.

When the bridge to the mainland was reached they paused once more to make inquiries.

A man and a woman had just crossed from the mainland. They had seen Merriwell dash over the bridge and were sure a rapidly driven carriage had preceded him by a brief space of time.

Frank was finally found talking to an officer in front of the Tower Hotel.

"He slipped me, boys," confessed Merry, with an expression of regret; "but the police have been notified, and they promised to do their best to nab him. How is Inza?"

"She's all right," assured Starbright. "Of course, her nerves received a great shock; but you know how quickly she recovers, so I don't think you have any reason to worry about her. Hodge and Rattleton are looking out for her and Elsie."

"Look here, Merry," said Browning, placing his hand on Frank's shoulder and mopping his flushed face with a handkerchief, "who was the lunatic that tried to push her into the river?"

"I think you have justly called him a lunatic," nodded Merry. "I am confident the man is deranged. Boys, I believe—nay, I have no doubt—that it was Alvarez Lazaro, the crazy Mexican who claims to be the avenger of Porfias del Norte. I did believe Lazaro had perished in that fire in New York; but now I am certain he escaped in some unaccountable manner, and never until he is captured and punished can I or any one of my friends know a real moment of safety. There is no telling what the next move of this maniacal avenger will be. We must all be on our guard, night and day."



CHAPTER XXX.

THE END OF PORFIAS DEL NORTE.

Frank's party returned to Buffalo, and, for all of the startling affair at the falls, enjoyed a splendid dinner at the hotel where they were stopping.

Inza had recovered in a remarkable manner, betraying not a trace of nervousness, despite her late terrible experience. She was the life of the party at dinner.

After dinner nearly all of them gathered in Merry's room to chat. Dade Morgan was an exception. He was strangely restless and uneasy, and he improved an opportunity to slip away without attracting attention.

Slipping on his overcoat, he sauntered forth for a stroll along the principal street of the city.

As he was passing the Iroquois Hotel some one struck him a heavy blow on the shoulder, and a voice exclaimed:

"Dade Morgan, as I live! Well, wouldn't this jostle you some!"

A young man who looked something like a swell, yet had a dissipated appearance, grasped Morgan's hand and shook it warmly.

"This is a surprise!" he declared. "Saw you last at the Imperial in little old New York the night after the ponies hit you such a bump. You had accumulated a large load and were in a pretty mushy condition. Lost track of you after that. Couldn't find you, you know. Didn't anybody seem to know what had become of you. Was afraid you'd done something rash. You're looking fine as a daisy. What brought you to this town? Come in and have a drink and tell me about it."

The talkative young man forcibly pulled Morgan into the hotel, but Dade finally stopped him, saying:

"I'm glad to see you again, Cavendale; but you'll have to excuse me from drinking. I've cut it out."

"Oh, come, old man, don't——"

"It's straight goods," asserted Morgan grimly. "No more of the lush for me."

"I can't believe it! And you were such a hot bunch! Well, come in to the bar and watch me lap up something."

He insisted until Morgan finally consented to accompany him to the bar. When they arrived there Cavendale renewed his urgent invitation, but Dade stood firm as far as liquor was concerned.

"Well, have something for old times' sake," said Cavendale. "I'm going to look on the rye. Take a lemonade, a ginger ale, anything to be sociable. I want you to tell me about yourself."

Dade took a lemonade.

Although Cavendale had stated that he wished Dade to tell about himself, he rattled off a rambling statement of his own affairs, claiming that he was "in on a big deal" that meant thousands to him.

"It's a snap," he asserted. "It's the greatest thing I ever struck. I'm bound to come out with my clothes lined with money. Hated to leave New York, but the people I'm in with are running things, and I go where they say."

Then he shivered as he saw Dade sipping the lemonade.

"That's rotten stuff for cold weather," he said. "Gives me a chill just to see you taking it. What happened to you, anyhow? Did you get a fit of remorse? Old Colonel R. E. bothers me sometimes, but I take a few bracers and he vanishes. Tell me why you quit, old man."

Morgan suddenly decided to do so.

"I quit through the influence of a friend," he explained. "I went broke in New York, Cavendale; but when I got hold of any loose coin I generally spent a part of it for booze. I'm not going to tell you all that happened to me, but I was clean down to the bottom when Frank Merriwell found me."

Cavendale started.

"Seems to me I've heard of Merriwell," he muttered. "I'm sure I have. So you're pretty chummy with him now?"

"You might call it so."

"Know all about his plans, I suppose? Sort of a bosom comrade, eh?"

"I believe Merriwell would trust me fully, although he found me pretty near in the gutter in New York."

"Well, that's fine! Old college chums, and all that. Still I want you to know I always had a liking for you, Morgan, old fellow—more than a liking. When I saw you a few minutes ago, I said: 'The very chap; I'll pull him into this deal and make a carload of money for him.' I believe I can do it, too. I suppose you're ready to make a stake? It's easy money and plenty of it."

"Why, every young man is looking for an opportunity to make money."

"Sure thing. Wait a moment. I want you to meet a friend of mine. He's stopping right here in this hotel. He's one of the main guys in our big game."

"But you haven't told me what the game is."

Cavendale tapped his lips with one finger.

"Discreetness," he grinned. "It's all on the level, but it doesn't do to talk too much to outsiders. If my friend likes you, he may unfold some of it to you. Oh, it's great! I expect to pull out forty or fifty thousand as my share in a year. If you're taken in, you'll do as well."

"That sounds too good to be true," said Dade, with an incredulous smile.

"You wait," nodded Cavendale. "I want to step to the telephone. Be back in a minute. Don't stir. I'll have Mr. Hagan—er—Mr. Harrigan right down."

Cavendale hurried from the barroom.

"What did he say?" thought Morgan, who wondered over the manner in which Cavendale had faltered over the name of the man he was going to call. "He said Hagan, and then he changed it to Harrigan. Hagan, Hagan—why, that's the name of the Irishman Merry told me about! That is the name of one of Frank's enemies! Can it be Hagan is here? Why not? The other man who calls himself Lazaro, is here—or was at the falls to-day. I scent something! Oh, if Merriwell were here! If I could get word to him!"

At this moment something happened that filled Dade with unspeakable satisfaction.

Dick Starbright looked into the room, saw Morgan, and hurried toward him. Dick's face was pale, and he looked greatly concerned.

"What are you doing, Dade?" he demanded, with a touch of anger. "Been looking round for you. Was afraid I'd find you at a bar. And you're drinking! Is this the way you——"

"Now, cut it right there," interrupted Morgan. "Smell of this! Taste it! It's lemonade. I can't explain how I happened here. No time. Something doing. I want you to hustle back to the hotel and tell Frank that I'm here. Tell him I'm about to be introduced to a man by the name of Hagan. I don't know who this Hagan is, but I have my suspicions. Tell him I'll try to hold Mr. Hagan right here long enough for him to arrive. He's good at following anything up. If it's the right Hagan, Merry may find some one else by shadowing him. Now skip. Don't waste a second."

"But——"

"I tell you to skip! Hagan may be here any moment. Wouldn't have him see you for anything. Don't want him to know I've spoken to a soul since. That's right! Dig! You'll have to hurry."

Starbright was somewhat bewildered, but he followed Dade's directions and hastened from the Iroquois.

A few moments later Cavendale returned and announced that "Mr. Harrigan" would be right down.

Five minutes after that a stout, florid-faced man walked into the room, saw Cavendale and Morgan, and advanced toward them.

"Mr. Harrigan," said Cavendale, "I want you to meet a particular friend of mine, Mr. Morgan."

"Glad to know you, Mr. Morgan," declared Harrigan, as he shook hands with Dade. "What's in the wind, Wallace? You insisted that I should come down right away."

"Because I know you are anxious to get hold of another young man on whom you can rely implicitly, and I believe Morgan is the man you want. I know him. He's a hustler. I give you my word that he's the very man for you."

"You know him well, do you, Wallace? Of course there are plenty of young men we can get, but we're looking for the right one. If you say Mr. Morgan is——"

"I do. I give you my word for it."

"That is enough. Your word goes with me, but, of course, Mr. Morgan will have to see the chief. He leaves Buffalo in the morning, and to-night is the last opportunity to see him here."

"But hold on," remonstrated Dade. "I'd like to know what this thing is that I'm going into. I haven't been able to get anything definite out of Cavendale. Will you kindly clear it up for me, Mr. Harrigan? I'm not going to plunge into anything, no matter what the inducement, with my eyes blindfolded."

"Quite right, me boy," nodded Harrigan. "That's wisdom, and I like it."

Then he began to talk of great railroad projects and rich mines, and kept it up in a rapid, yet rambling, manner, apparently explaining fully, but actually making no explanation at all. All that Dade could get from his talk was that the business involved mighty projects in railroading and mining, and that all concerned in carrying the things through would reap rich rewards.

"But still I'm in the dark," protested Morgan. "I may be dull, but I confess that I need a little more light on this matter before I plunge."

Cavendale and Harrigan exchanged glances.

"The thing to do," said Harrigan, "is to have you see the chief. He'll make it clear."

Dade demurred. He had not yet seen anything of Merriwell, although it seemed that Frank had been given plenty of time to arrive. He plied his companions with questions, sparring for more time.

And while he was doing so a door behind Harrigan's back swung open a little. It was enough to give Morgan a glimpse of Merriwell outside. Frank made a signal, and then the door closed.

Immediately Morgan seemed suddenly to agree to the proposals of his companions.

"Oh, all right," he said carelessly. "If you won't make the matter clear to me, then take me to this gentleman you call the chief. Perhaps he'll enlighten me."

"He will, me lad," nodded Harrigan. "Come on. We'll call a cab."

"Then he's not stopping in this hotel?"

"Never a bit of it," said Harrigan. "He has a prejudice against hotels. He's stopping with a friend at a private house."

They went to the office, where a cab was ordered.

As they left the Iroquois and entered the cab Dade looked round in vain for a glimpse of Frank, but he was not to be seen.

It was a long drive through the streets of Buffalo. At first Dade tried to keep track of the course, but soon the many turns and changes of direction confused him, and he gave it up.

They stopped at last before a small, detached house near the outskirts of the city. The house seemed dark and deserted.

Morgan began to wonder if he had been wise in accompanying the men, but he quickly decided that there could be little or no reason for doing personal injury to him, and so he unhesitatingly followed Cavendale up the steps, while Harrigan came behind.

The cab rumbled away.

Cavendale pressed the push-button of the electric doorbell in a peculiar manner. After a time there sounded from the inner side of the door an odd knocking. Cavendale answered in a similar manner.

There was a sound of shooting bolts, but the rattle of a chain followed, and the door was opened only a short distance. Plainly the chain was still on.

Cavendale whispered to some one within. The door closed again, the chain rattled once more, the door re-opened, and into the house of mystery they walked.

The hand of Cavendale guided Dade through the dark hall, through a room beyond and finally into still another room, which was dimly lighted.

"Here we are," said Cavendale, with affected cheerfulness. "Let's have these lights up. The chief was abed, but he'll be down directly."

The lights were turned up. The room was plainly furnished, and had but one window. That window was so heavily curtained that no gleam of light could be seen from it by any one on the outside.

Hagan pretended to joke and talk in a lively manner, but his jokes were forced and mirthless.

After a few minutes a soft step sounded outside, and a striking-looking man in black entered the room. This man was slender and graceful, his figure being that of a young man, but his face was one that proclaimed him nearing seventy, and his hair was white as driven snow. One glance at his eyes was enough for Dade, who knew instantly that they were the same eyes he had seen peering through the transom of the Bowery hotel.

This was Frank Merriwell's deadly enemy, a monster who would hesitate at no crime in order to injure the youth he so bitterly hated. This was the man who had twice attempted to destroy the life of Inza Burrage. This was the man who had poisoned Watson Scott at the Waldorf and had nearly brought about the death of Warren Hatch in an automobile smash-up.

Morgan had good nerves. He managed to keep his face impassive as he was introduced by Hagan, who said:

"Mr. Brown, this is Mr. Morgan, a young man who is willing to join us and work with us when he is satisfied that the business is legitimate and the reward sufficient."

"I am very glad to know you, Mr. Morgan," said "Brown," clasping Dade's hand and looking into his eyes.

The voice was low and musical, but Morgan felt a thrill at the touch of that hand, and in the steady, piercing glance of those eyes there was something that caused a queer sensation of helplessness to creep upon him.

"Sit down," was the invitation. "I will tell you all about it. Sit here, where the light will not fall in your eyes."

He was urged into a chair. The man sat down before him, and on those wonderful black eyes the light fell fairly.

The strange man began to talk in that low, soothing voice of his. He talked—as had Harrigan—of mines, and railroads, and great projects. His voice had an accent that was pleasant to hear, and at times the formation of his sentences was peculiar. All the while, as he talked, he looked steadily into Dade's eyes. At last, he leaned forward and took Morgan's hands, continuing to talk.

Suddenly Dade realized that a spell was stealing over him. He was growing drowsy. The man before him was telling him that he was tired and should rest.

Morgan realized that he was being hypnotized!

Instantly he aroused all his will power to fight against it. At the same time he resolved on a crafty course. He determined to pretend that he was succumbing to the hypnotic spell.

This he cleverly did, his head sinking against the back of the chair and his eyes closing. By closing his own eyes he shut out the view of those terrible eyes, which he feared might conquer him.

There was a brief silence, and then the triumphant voice of the mysterious man said:

"I have him now, and he is mine. From this night he shall do my bidding. And he is the trusted friend and companion of Frank Merriwell! Ah! through him I will strike Merriwell, even as I promised to strike him. I told him I would ruin his beauty. Through this friend of his I will accomplish the deed. Here I have a vial of vitriol. I always carry several vials of poison with me. This one I will place in this chap's pocket, and with it he shall do my command."

Then Morgan felt the man thrusting something into a pocket of his vest. A moment later the soft voice spoke to him.

"Do you hear me?" it asked.

Morgan had witnessed hypnotic exhibitions, and so he answered in a low, mechanical manner:

"Yes, sir."

"Good! I am your master, now and forever. Do you recognize and acknowledge me as your master?"

"Yes, sir."

"Sleeping or waking, wherever you are, you must obey my commands. You cannot refuse. What I tell you to do, while in your present state, you must do while in a normal condition. You will obey me!"

"Yes, sir."

"Very well. In your pocket I have placed a vial containing a liquid. To-night, after returning to your hotel, you will seek Frank Merriwell's room. If you find him in bed, all the better. You must take him unawares. You must uncork that vial and fling the contents into his face. This you will do!"

Although filled with indignation and horror, Dade answered:

"I will."

"Good! It is enough. I——"

He stopped speaking, interrupted by the furious ringing of a bell. Then came another man rushing into the room, shaking with excitement, who announced that there were many men at the door and others all round the house. Apparently they were officers.

"Frank has turned the trick!" exultingly thought Morgan. "He has the wretch trapped!"

But he remained motionless.

Hagan and Cavendale were greatly excited. They hurried from the room, followed by "the chief."

The ringing at the doorbell continued. Then heavy blows fell on the door, resounding through the house. There was the sound of smashing wood.

"Come on, Merry!" laughed Morgan. "You have him this time! Don't let him get away!"

He had leaped up. He heard the door burst open. He heard some one approaching on the jump. With a spring he concealed himself behind a high-backed chair in the corner.

Hagan burst into the room, followed by "the chief."

"It's caught ye are, Mr. Lazaro!" said the disgusted Irishman. "They have us all! It's bad for me, but for you it means life behind the bars."

"Never!" was the retort. "See this vial, Senor Hagan? It contains poison. I shall swallow——"

A policeman appeared in the doorway.

The man of the terrible eyes and snowy hair placed the vial to his lips and swallowed the contents. Then he flung the empty vial at the officer, staggered to a chair, dropped upon it, and laughed a horrible laugh that ended with what seemed a death rattle.

Morgan had risen. In a dazed condition he saw officers swarm into the room, saw Hagan—who had been introduced to him as Harrigan—handcuffed, saw Frank Merriwell bending over a limp, still form and declaring the man was Lazaro.

"He has swallowed poison!" cried Dade, arousing himself at last, and rushing forward. "I saw him do it!"

The eyes of Lazaro—those fearful eyes—were lifted to the face of Frank Merriwell for a moment. A haze seemed spreading over them. The lips of the man moved. Silence fell on the room, and all present heard him say:

"Merriwell, you have brought death to me at last. To escape you and to escape imprisonment, I die at last. Even yet you shall not escape me. I shall haunt you after death! I will bring you at last to your miserable end! Adios!"

Then the lips were still, the eyes partly closed.

"He is dead!" said an officer.

"Not until I hear him proclaimed dead by a reliable physician will I be satisfied," said Frank. "Bring in a doctor."

A short time later a doctor appeared. The physician knelt beside Lazaro and made a careful examination, silently watched by the others. At last the doctor rose to his feet, saying:

"There is no question about it, the man is dead."

THE END.



"Dick Merriwell Abroad" is the title of the next volume in THE MERRIWELL SERIES, No. 118. A tale of Dick Merriwell's adventures in foreign lands by Burt L. Standish.



[Transcriber's Note: This advertisement originally appeared at the front of the text, and has been moved to the rear for this electronic edition.]

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They have the splendid quality of firing a boy's ambition to become a good athlete, in order that he may develop into a strong, vigorous, right-thinking man.

ALL TITLES ALWAYS IN PRINT

1—Frank Merriwell's School Days 2—Frank Merriwell's Chums 3—Frank Merriwell's Foes 4—Frank Merriwell's Trip West 5—Frank Merriwell Down South 6—Frank Merriwell's Bravery 7—Frank Merriwell's Hunting Tour 8—Frank Merriwell in Europe 9—Frank Merriwell at Yale 10—Frank Merriwell's Sports Afield 11—Frank Merriwell's Races 12—Frank Merriwell's Party 13—Frank Merriwell's Bicycle Tour 14—Frank Merriwell's Courage 15—Frank Merriwell's Daring 16—Frank Merriwell's Alarm 17—Frank Merriwell's Athletes 18—Frank Merriwell's Skill 19—Frank Merriwell's Champions 20—Frank Merriwell's Return to Yale 21—Frank Merriwell's Secret 22—Frank Merriwell's Danger 23—Frank Merriwell's Loyalty 24—Frank Merriwell in Camp 25—Frank Merriwell's Vacation 26—Frank Merriwell's Cruise 27—Frank Merriwell's Chase 28—Frank Merriwell in Maine 29—Frank Merriwell's Struggle 30—Frank Merriwell's First Job 31—Frank Merriwell's Opportunity 32—Frank Merriwell's Hard Luck 33—Frank Merriwell's Protege 34—Frank Merriwell on the Road 35—Frank Merriwell's Own Company 36—Frank Merriwell's Fame 37—Frank Merriwell's College Chums 38—Frank Merriwell's Problem 39—Frank Merriwell's Fortune 40—Frank Merriwell's New Comedian 41—Frank Merriwell's Prosperity 42—Frank Merriwell's Stage Hit 43—Frank Merriwell's Great Scheme 44—Frank Merriwell in England 45—Frank Merriwell on the Boulevards 46—Frank Merriwell's Duel 47—Frank Merriwell's Double Shot 48—Frank Merriwell's Baseball Victories 49—Frank Merriwell's Confidence 50—Frank Merriwell's Auto 51—Frank Merriwell's Fun 52—Frank Merriwell's Generosity 53—Frank Merriwell's Tricks 54—Frank Merriwell's Temptation 55—Frank Merriwell on Top 56—Frank Merriwell's Luck 57—Frank Merriwell's Mascot 58—Frank Merriwell's Reward 59—Frank Merriwell's Phantom 60—Frank Merriwell's Faith 61—Frank Merriwell's Victories 62—Frank Merriwell's Iron Nerve 63—Frank Merriwell in Kentucky 64—Frank Merriwell's Power 65—Frank Merriwell's Shrewdness 66—Frank Merriwell's Setback 67—Frank Merriwell's Search 68—Frank Merriwell's Club 69—Frank Merriwell's Trust 70—Frank Merriwell's False Friend 71—Frank Merriwell's Strong Arm 72—Frank Merriwell as Coach 73—Frank Merriwell's Brother 74—Frank Merriwell's Marvel 75—Frank Merriwell's Support 76—Dick Merriwell at Fardale 77—Dick Merriwell's Glory 78—Dick Merriwell's Promise 79—Dick Merriwell's Rescue 80—Dick Merriwell's Narrow Escape 81—Dick Merriwell's Racket 82—Dick Merriwell's Revenge 83—Dick Merriwell's Ruse 84—Dick Merriwell's Delivery 85—Dick Merriwell's Wonders 86—Frank Merriwell's Honor 87—Dick Merriwell's Diamond 88—Frank Merriwell's Winners 89—Dick Merriwell's Dash 90—Dick Merriwell's Ability 91—Dick Merriwell's Trap 92—Dick Merriwell's Defense 93—Dick Merriwell's Model 94—Dick Merriwell's Mystery 95—Frank Merriwell's Backers 96—Dick Merriwell's Backstop 97—Dick Merriwell's Western Mission 98—Frank Merriwell's Rescue 99—Frank Merriwell's Encounter 100—Dick Merriwell's Marked Money 101—Frank Merriwell's Nomads 102—Dick Merriwell on the Gridiron 103—Dick Merriwell's Disguise 104—Dick Merriwell's Test 105—Frank Merriwell's Trump Card 106—Frank Merriwell's Strategy 107—Frank Merriwell's Triumph 108—Dick Merriwell's Grit 109—Dick Merriwell's Assurance 110—Dick Merriwell's Long Slide 111—Frank Merriwell's Rough Deal 112—Dick Merriwell's Threat 113—Dick Merriwell's Persistence 114—Dick Merriwell's Day 115—Frank Merriwell's Peril 116—Dick Merriwell's Downfall 117—Frank Merriwell's Pursuit 118—Dick Merriwell Abroad 119—Frank Merriwell in the Rockies 120—Dick Merriwell's Pranks 121—Frank Merriwell's Pride 122—Frank Merriwell's Challengers 123—Frank Merriwell's Endurance 124—Dick Merriwell's Cleverness 125—Frank Merriwell's Marriage 126—Dick Merriwell, the Wizard 127—Dick Merriwell's Stroke 128—Dick Merriwell's Return 129—Dick Merriwell's Resource 130—Dick Merriwell's Five 131—Frank Merriwell's Tigers 132—Dick Merriwell's Polo Team 133—Frank Merriwell's Pupils 134—Frank Merriwell's New Boy 135—Dick Merriwell's Home Run 136—Dick Merriwell's Dare 137—Frank Merriwell's Son 138—Dick Merriwell's Team Mate 139—Frank Merriwell's Leaguers 140—Frank Merriwell's Happy Camp 141—Dick Merriwell's Influence 142—Dick Merriwell, Freshman 143—Dick Merriwell's Staying Power

In order that there may be no confusion, we desire to say that the books listed below will be issued during the respective months in New York City and vicinity. They may not reach the readers at a distance promptly, on account of delays in transportation.

To be published in July, 1926.

144—Dick Merriwell's Joke 145—Frank Merriwell's Talisman

To be published in August, 1926.

146—Frank Merriwell's Horse 147—Dick Merriwell's Regret

To be published in September, 1926.

148—Dick Merriwell's Magnetism 149—Dick Merriwell's Backers

To be published in October, 1926.

150—Dick Merriwell's Best Work 151—Dick Merriwell's Distrust 152—Dick Merriwell's Debt

To be published in November, 1926.

153—Dick Merriwell's Mastery 154—Dick Merriwell Adrift

To be published in December, 1926.

155—Frank Merriwell's Worst Boy 156—Dick Merriwell's Close Call

THE END

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