© Gilbert Patten
WNU Service
SYNOPSIS
When Bart Hodge, a vain youth of sixteen,
alights from a train at Fardale, he stumbles
over a half-blind dog and in a rage kicks
the animal. The dog's owner, Tad Jones, a
small, shabby boy who supports his wid.
owed mother, denounces him. This nettles
Bart and he slaps Tad. Frank Merriwell,
an orphan of Hodge's age, prevents him
from further molesting Tad. Although the
two do not come to blows. Hodge sneeringly
says they will have to settle their differences
later. He and Merriwell had come to Far.
dale to attend Fardale academy. While
Hodge consults Joe Bemis, truck driver for
John Snodd, about his baggage, Merriwell,
accompanied by Tad and his dog, Shag,
start walking to Snodd’'s place. Presently
the Snodd truck, with Hodge driving, rum-
bles down the road and kills Tad's dog.
Occupying a room next to Merriwell's in
the Snodd home is Barney Mulloy, who dis-
likes Hodge. They become good friends.
Merriwell offers to help Mulloy get into one
of the academy dormitories by appealing
to Professor Scotch, a friend of Merriwell's
Uncle Asher. As they leave the house that
evening Hodge is talking to Inza Burrage,
a friend of Belinda Snodd. Later they meet
Tad, who now has another dog.
CHAPTER II—Continued
——
There was nothing to prevent
them from looking in at the win-
dows as they walked up to the front
door. Hodge was surrounded by a
group of amused girls with whom
he was kidding in a free-and-easy
way. Now and then he gave his
head a jerk to toss back a lock of
hair that soon fell down again over
his eyebrows. Judging by his
jaunty, cock-sure manner, he felt
that he was doing all right for
himself.
Barney made a queer sound in
his throat. ‘‘Hold me, Frank,” he
said, “before I go in there and
bounce the big chicken charmer out
of a window.”
At that moment Merriwell, him-
self, was itching to do something un-
pleasant to Bartley Hodge, who was
giving particular attention to the
slim, fair-haired girl who had
played the piano at supper time.
But what surprised Merry most
was the way he felt about that girl.
She was good looking, all right;
even better looking now, laughing
up into Bart's face, than he had
previously imagined. But wasn't
that always the way? The stunners
were always easy marks for any
flattering show-off. They never
seemed to have enough sense to see
through such fellows. Inza Burrage,
he decided, was just another in the
beautiful but dumb class.
Now the girls were urging Hodge
to sing again. ‘Again?’ Of course
that meant he had sung for them
before this. But he hung off just
enough to make them urge him
harder. The system worked well.
He yielded gracefully at the proper
moment, on condition that Inza Bur-
rage would accompany him on the
piano. Then, together, they looked
find something.
“Come on, Barney,” said Frank.
“Let's get upstairs where we won't
have to hear this.”
“You'll have to plug up your ears
if you don’t want to hear it up
there, my lad,” said Barney. ‘“Me,
I'm for sitting down on these steps
and listening to Caruso warble,
Don't leave me. Somebody may
have to keep me from throwing
rocks at him through the window.”
So Merriwell, hoping for the
worst, sat down with Mulloy.
Meanwhile Hodge had found a
song over which he was laughing.
He called it a comic song, and that
made Inza Burrage laugh, too.
Frank wondered if he would be
able to sit it out, but he didn't
want Barney to know about that.
There came a rippling prelude on
the piano, and Bart Hodge struck
into the song. It was something
about “a maiden young and fair”
who “dwelt by the blue Alsatian
mountains,” and it went on to tell
how ‘came a stranger in the
spring” who hung around whisper-
ing in the moonlight “till her heart
was all his own.” But Hodge could
sing and he was burlesquing the
sentimental old ballad in a way that
made it really funny.
Frank squirmed on the step.
Something inside him was squirm-
jos, too. Suddenly he laughed soft-
“Stay right here, Mulloy,” he
said, getting up. “I'm going to get
my uke out of my trunk. I know
a comic song to match that one
and, by Jove, I'm going to sing it.”
Hodge had just finished and was
being warmly applauded when
Merry came down again with his
ukulele, which he had already put
in tune.
“Now this,” chuckled Mulloy as
Frank sat down beside him once
more, “will be the surprise feature
of Belinda's party. 1 hope it's
good.”
“I'll let you be the judge,” said
Merry. Then, strumming the uke,
he sang:
“Not a long time to come, I remem-
ber it well,
Alonggide a schoolhouse a maiden
did dwell,
She lived there in peace, her life
Her
Was serene,
it was fair and her hair
age
Was sixteen.
“This maid had a lover, a regular
swell,
A cross-legged ruffian and bow-eyed
as well;
He said, ‘Let us fly by the light of
yon star,
For you are the eye of my apple,
you are.’
“Just then her old papa appeared,
it appears,
And looked at the scene with eyes
in his tears,
His daughter embraced, her pale
face he kissed,
Then he rushed with his nose at her
lover's hard fist.
‘He looked at her lover and told
him to bolt,
He drew a horse pistol, "twas raised
from a colt;
Said her lover, ‘I'll die if I stay, it
is true,’
Said he, ‘So I'll fly,” and he flew up
the flue.”
Barney was rocking with smoth-
ered laughter. ‘‘Ah-ha,” he cried,
“that lad was a bird, Frank!”
All was very still within the house,
but behind them sounded swift and
heavy steps. Bart Hodge came out
through the door into the moonlight.
‘Look here, Merriwell,” he said
hoarsely, ‘‘what do you mean by
that dirty stuff?”
“Oh-ho!"” said Mulloy.
the dog catcher.”
Bart blazed at him: “Mind your
own business, Irish!’’ Then he again
“Here's
“What Do You Mean by That
Dirty Stuff?”
| faced Frank, who had risen. “Who
| were you trying to insult by that
| cheap song?’’ he snarled.
“Why,” said Frank, “what's all
this about, Hodge? I was amusing
myself—and Barney. I wasn't try-
ing to insult anybody.”
“Oh, no? With that stuff about
‘her age it was fair and her hair
was sixteen!’ I resent it, and Miss
Burrage does, too.”
“Well, I don’t mind you so much,
Hodge, but I'm quite willing to apol-
ogize to Miss Burrage and assure
her that nothing personal was in-
tended.”
Bart caught his breath sharply.
His fists were clenched and his
voice shook when he spoke again:
“But that's a lie! It was meant as
an insult to both of us.”
““Now,”” whispered Mulloy to him-
self, highly pleased, “Frank will let
him have it!”
To his great surprise, Frank an-
swered quietly: ‘“Hadn’t we better
talk this over somewhere else,
Hodge? Let's not start a disturbance
at Miss Snodd’s party.”
“You started it,” panted Hodge,
“but I'm going to finish it.”
A girl came flying out of the
house and sprang between them.
‘Stop, Bart!” she cried. “Don’t
mind him! He's just too — too
cheap!”
It was Inza Burrage, and the look
she gave Frank burned him up with
scorn.
Frank Merriwell didn't sleep well
that night. He couldn’t forget the
look of scorn Inza Burrage had
flashed at him before coaxing Bart
Hodge back into the house. She
had called Frank cheap, and the
queer thing about it was that she
had made him feel cheap. He hadn't
foreseen that she might resent his
little joke as a personal affront.
There had been another tnexpect-
ed kick-back in that joke. It had
given Hodge a grand chance to play
the gallant hero, and he had not
missed the trick. Like Inza, no
doubt, the other girls at Belinda
Snodd’'s party had been filled with
great admiration by his excellent
performance,
In Frank's room, after the af-
fair, Barney Mulloy had said it was
his belief that Hodge had been pray-
ing for somebody to hold him. As
Barney saw it, Bart had been trem-
bling with fear while he was roar-
ing like a lion. But whether this
was true or not, he had played the
lion and got away with it. It was
his turn to laugh.
Barney had been disappointed. He
had looked for something quite dif-
ferent from what had happened
when Hodge had accused Merry of
lying. ‘Maybe it wasn't a nice
place to do it, Frankie,” he had
said, “but I never could have de-
tained my fist from popping him on
the nose. Now what'll he think of
ye?”
But what Hodge would think
hadn't put the pucker into Merri-
well's forehead. He was annoyed
at himself. Let Hodge think what
he pleased and be hanged! Frank
could laugh that off, but the sting
of being made to feel cheap by a
girl with a pretty face and a head
as empty as a hole in a doughnut
was what got him down. It never
had happened before.
So Frank flopped around in bed
quite a lot that night and punched
his pillow twenty times, though the
pillow wasn’t at all to blame. Then,
having wasted the most of the hours
for sleep in such foolish gymnastics,
he fell into a soggy doze just be-
fore dawn and had a tussle with a
bear that caught him and shook him
until he awoke. The bear proved
to be Barney Mulloy, who had a
hand on his shoulder.
“Will you never wake up, lad?”
said Barney. “If that’s the way you
sleep you need an earthquake for
an alarm clock.”
Bright sunshine streamed in
through the open windows. There
was a sea tang in the clean morn-
ing air. This was another day. Steel
springs seemed to shoot Frank out
of the bed.
‘Great snails!" he exclaimed. “It
must be late.”
“It was the bell for breakfast got
me up some time ago,” said Mul-
loy. “I thought you'd beat me to
it, but you wasn't there when I got
down, so I came back to see what
was keeping ye.”
“Well, go right back again,” said
Frank, “and take my apologies to
the cook and waitress. Tell them
I'll be there before they can boil
and serve a couple of three-minute
eggs.”
He came down smiling, but Be-
linda Snodd gave him no answering
smile when she placed the three-
minute eggs before him. The re-
sponse to his pleasant ‘good morn-
ing"’ was a slight nod that seemed
to be worked by remote control.
But she brought fried bacon and
hot rolls and wild strawberry jam
and fragrant coffee to keep the eggs
company, and that at least was
cheerful.
Barney winked. “There's a bit
of change in the weather,” he re-
marked. “It's cooler this morning.”
Merry didn’t let the change spoil
his appetite. He treated that break-
fast right. Nor did he seem to no-
tice the absence of Hodge from the
table. He got along nicely without
him there, anyhow.
After they had left the dining
room, Mulloy explained that Bart
had eaten earlier. Then following
a brief chat with Miss Snodd in the
front hall, he had made himself
scarce.
“1 stretched my ears and heard
a word or two of What they were
saying in the hall.” Barney grinned.
“It was something about a picnic.
Now is it another spree they're
cooking up?”
“Search me,” said Frank indiffer-
ently.
“Well, if it is I'll give you odds
we won't be in on it.”
“Don’t make me cry, Barney. It's
such a lovely morning.”
Later Merriwell got on the phone
and made an appointment to call
on Professor Scotch in his study at
eleven o'clock. The professor would
be free to talk with him at that
hour,
“Did ye mention me, Frank?”
asked Mulloy anxiously.
“Not over the phone but I will
’
when I see him. Didn't I give you
my word?”
“But I was a bit fearful you'd
forget.”
“I don't forget my friends, old
man."
“Still, maybe it's not a thing you
can do for me.”
*“Oh, cheer up.” Frank gave him
a stiff slap on the back. “I'm go-
ing to pull for you, Barney. I'm a
selfish guy and I want you for a
roommate.”
A smile leaped into the Irish boy's
face. “It's something I'd thought
myself,” he confessed, “but it
seemed a little too pleasant to come
true.”
The mystery of Hodge's disap-
Merriwell set forth to keep his ap-
ney walked down the road with him
as far as the gate to the school
grounds.
“T'll be hanging around with my
heart in me mouth when you come
out, Frank,” he said.
“You won't have to wait long,”
said Merry, with a cheering smile.
“I'll make it snappy.”
Barney's heart moved right down
from his mouth into his shoes.
when Frank came up and stopped,
“slip me the bad news, lad.”
“Can you take it?”
“It'll be no worse than I expect-
“Well, I hope you won't blame
me. I broke an oar pulling for
you. Professor Scotch had to lis-
ten. He asked me to send you to
see him at four o'clock this after-
noon."
“Aw,” said Barney, “what's the
use?’’
“But maybe you'd better go. He
told me he'd have a talk with the
dean.” Then Frank's tone and man-
ner changed and he finished brisk.
ly: “And he said he was sure he'd
cepted list.”
Mulloy staggered. *““You deceiv-
ing scoundrel!’ he cried, shaking a
fist at Merry's laughing face. “It
was down and out you had me. I'll
get even for that or my name is
Bart Hodge.”
something else,” said Frank. “I
know where Hodge went to. He's
been making a visit to the school.”
“That,” said Barney, staring past
Merriwell's shoulder, "is something
I’ve just this minute found out my-
self. He's coming out of the gate
behind you and walking this way.
And he looks as pleased as a cat
that's swallowed a canary bird.”
At that moment, as he came walk-
ing toward Frank and Barney,
Hodge looked like a fellow who had
no fault to find with himself or the
world at large. It might be wrong
to say there was a twinkle in his
eyes, but they held, at least, a
gleam of triumph.
“See the rooster strut,” muttered
Mulloy. “I'd like to crown him
right on his comb.”
Frank.
“But if he starts to crow-""
would count against you.”
his words.
ago.”
“Oh, did you?”
beamed.
mine, Hugh Bascomb and Walter
Burrage.”
(TO BE CONTINUED)
Bart
The abundant life is shared by a
wide variety of birds finding head-
quarters in the sanctuary at Crater
Lake National park in Oregon.
There are more than seventy vari-
eties in the park. Bird notes are
heard continually, according to a
news bulletin issued by the park
service,
The Eagle Craggs have furnished
nesting places for the golden eagle
and the American bald eagle; Llao
Rock is the home of falcons. Os-
preys have been seen and the
horned owl forages nightly. Cali-
fornia gulls visit the park and black
cormorants are known to have
nested and raised their young on the
lake. There are ravens and half a
dozen varieties of hawks. Canvas-
back and golden-eyed ducks fre-
quent the lake and the Sierra
grouse the timberlands. Clark's
crow, the camp robber, and Cali
solitaire, Sierra junco, pine siskin,
creeper nuthatch, chickadee and
grosbeak. There are golden and
ruby - crowned kinglets, robins,
wrens, wood and green-tailed tow-
hees, purple and rosy finches, chip-
ping and other sparrows, several
varieties of thrushes, and five vari-
eties of warblers. Occasionally a
humming bird is seen.
The most noticeable of the small
birds of the park is the Western
tanager, a brilliant streak of gold
as it flits in the dark foliage, and
equally remarkable in coloring
when it rests on twig or branch,
where its red head, yellow body,
and black wings with yellow bars
are unmistakable. The sweetest
singer in the park is the hermit
thrush-shy, difficult to locate, but
making its presence known by beau-
E
i
{ you see the pieces of a daven-
| port slipcover fitted with seam |
| lines pinned. The material is
wrong side out as the welt or cord- |
ed seams must be stitched from |
| the inside of the cover,
Before the seams around the |
front of the arms are pinned as at |
A the arm cover edge of the seam
must be gathered as at B.
The cable cord that is covered |
with bias material and fitted into |
the seams to make the welt may |
be purchased at any notion coun- |
ter. The material to cover it must
be cut on a true bias and stitched
| in place as shown here at C. The
| cording foot attachment for your |
| machine must be used for this |
stitching so the sewing will come
close to the cord. The next step is
to either baste or stitch the cov-|
ered cord to one edge of the right
side of the seam as shown here |
at D. Then, using the cording
foot again, stitch the seam as
shown, Clip the seam edges]
around curves so they will not
draw. i
It will be necessary to leave an |
opening in the back to be fastened |
with snaps. Openings must be |
arranged on the underside of the
seam cushions as shown here at E.
Every Homemaker should have
a copy of Mrs. Spears’ new book,
IN THE sketch at the upper left!
Mistaken Identity |
At a New York restaurant the
colored waiter was handing
around the cakes.
“Waiter,” said a fair young |
, “I will have that chocolate |
eclair."” i
Sambo looked surprised, and |
in an offended fone, said:
“Madam, dat's not an eclair, |
dat's ma thumb!” !
““This is Mr. Snodgrass, our in- |
staliment collector — he's been |
with the family for years.”
Identified
The teacher was putting ques-
tions to the class.
“What do we call a man,” he
asked, ““who keeps on talking and
talking when people are no longer
interested?”
“Please, sir,” replied a boy, “a
teacher.”
THE TROUBLE
Rastus—What dis troubled old
world needs am somethin’ to rem-
edy de status quo.
His Wife—Dat, Rastus, am
what we's been hearin’ so much
‘bout lately. Jest what am de
“status quo?”
Rastus—Dat am Latin fo' de
mess de world am in,
Matched
It was during a big sale, and
tempers were getting frayed.
“if 1 were trying to match po-
liteness,"” said one customer, glar-
ing hard at a saleslady, “I'd have
a job to find it here.”
“Have you a sample?” the
saleslady asked.
Good Night
Bore—Talking about Africa
makes me think of the time—
Bored One—Good gracious,
you're quite right. I must be going.
SEWING. Forty-eight pages of
step-by-step directions for making
slipcovers, dressing tables and
curtains for all types of rooms.
Making lampshades, rugs, otto-
mans and other useful articles for
Leaflet of patchwork
stitches now included if request-
ed. Readers wishing a copy
should send name and address en-
to Mrs. Spears, 210 S. Desplaines
St., Chicago, Ill.
SORE THROAT
wri GOLDS
Given Fast Relief
Toke 2 Bayer
Tablets with a
full glass of
water.
Crush 3 Bayer
Tablets in 14 glass
of waoter—gargle
twice every few
hours.
The speed with which Bayer
tablets act in relieving the dis-
tressing symptoms of colds and
accompanying sore throat is utter-
ly amazing . . . and the treatment
is simple and pleasant. This is all
you do. Crush and dissolve three
genuine Bayer Aspirin tablets in
one-third last of water. Then
gargle with this mixture twice,
olding your head well back.
This medicinal gargle will act
almost like a local anesthetic on
the sore, irritated membrane of
your throat. Pain eases promptly;
rawness is relieved.
You will say it is remarkable,
And the few cents it costs effects
a big saving over expensive “throat
gargies and strong medicines.
nd when you buy, see that you
get genuine BAYER ASPIRIN.
For Betterment
A man should choose a friend
who is better than himself. —Chi.
nese Proverb.
To keep food waste soft
and moving, many doc-
tors recommend Nujol
because of its gentle,
Absence Noted
Love comes unseen; we only see
it go.—Austin Dobson.
CHANGE OF LIFE