© Gilbert Patten WNU Service CHAPTER V--Continued . “But I don’t play that game,” said Frank quickly. ‘‘Baseball’s my limit.” “Well, we'll have to go into that also—when the time comes round.” Belinda Snodd called Tad away to the porch. “We're going to get him another dog—the right sort of a dog for him to have,” explained Inza, “but we're going to spring it as a sur- prise. He mustn't get wise to what we're up to. Go over and quiz him, ‘Walt. Find out what kind he likes best. I'll take you into town after I talk to Frank.” { “Then make it snappy,” he re- plied. “I've got a date with a bar- ber.” “Look, Frank,” said Inza quickly ‘when they were left alone. “I didn’t want Walt listening in. He caught me here when he was going by. I want to talk to you about Hodge.” ‘Oh!’ He was a little surprised. “Bart wasn’t to blame for that crack in the paper,” she went on. “I've let Pete Smith know what I think of that. He's just a hick re- porter who thinks he's a big shot, so don't let it get you down.” That made Merry laugh “Don’t worry, Miss Burrage. sleep without taking an opiate.” ‘““But it's going to cost Bart Hodge some sleep.” “Do you think so?” “I’m sure of it. for he's just like me. I'm afraid of dogs—some dogs. I wish I wasn’t built that way, but they make me jittery. To tell you the truth, they frighten me to death. 1 thought my ankle was broken when it was only sprained a little.” “Oh, your ankle! How dumb of me not to ask about that!" again. I'n need it at all. ute.” tions.’ “And I wanted to see you, too, to the way you protected me from that horrid beast. Only I—I can't really say it now. But I do want you to know I'll never, never forget it.” They were both flushed now. She had destroyed his first impression of her. He no longer rated her as beautiful and dumb; he had scratched the second adjective. “Maybe I was too scared to run away myself,” he said. She smiled at him, shaking her head. “You don’t have to be so modest about it, Frank Merriwell. I've got a little sense. Bart did run, but he came back. That was something. Let's give him credit for ir" “I wouldn't rob him of any credit he deserves.” “I know you wouldn't. You don’t have to tell me. I was all stewed up about Bart until—until I thought it over. He's different. He's never learned how to take it. Walter's told me how it is here in the school. If they ever start riding a fellow they ride him ragged. Bart never could stand up to that.” It wasn't so easy for Frank to smile now. He hadn't expected her to retain so much interest in Hodge. It was cooling him off rapidly. ‘““He needs somebody to keep him en an even keel,” Inza declared. “You could do that, Frank. I don’t believe anybody else can. You're rooming with him, and" ‘“Aren’t you slicing it rather tough for me, Miss Burrage?” “Maybe I am, but he needs a friend.” ‘“He’s got Hugh Bascomb.” “That's not so good. 1 know Hugh. He won't be much help.” ‘““He’s helped Hodge on to the football squad already.” “But that's not the kind of help Bart needs most. He'll go up against things at Fardale that Bas- comb won’t help him a bit about— and he'll crack.” “Nobody can help a fellow who won't accept help.” “Of course not, but you're clever, Frank, and you can make him ac- cept it if you try. I did think of putting it up to Walter, but I real- ized he wouldn't get me. He wouldn't have the chance you'll have, anyhow. If Bart doesn’t find somebody to steady him he'll go off the deep end some day.” Frank was silent. She put her warm fingers on his wrist, which lay on the edge of the car door. “Think it over,” she said, “and maybe you'll do it—for me.” Her voice, her dark eyes, the touch of her warm hand—all were magnetic. “Come on, Inza,” called her brother laughingly. ‘Stop vamping Merriwell and step on your starter. I've got to get a move on if I'm going to be back in time for my first morning class.” He was coming out with Tad at his heels. “I'm leaving it up to you, Frank,” she half whispered. And the way she half whispered his name was disturbing. Walking back to the school, Mer- riwell carried a face as gay as a plume on a hearse. He had hur- ried to meet her, and all she had wanted of him was to talk of Hodge. It was a joke, but he didn’t laugh. She had been furious with Hodge after reading the piece in the news- paper. Walter had spared Bart's feelings by declining to repeat what she had said about him. Now, in a few hours, she had changed in a most astonishing way. What the dickens did it mean? “Just that she's gone bats about him, of course,” muttered Frank. ‘““Nothing else checks up. And she wants me to be his buddy! Why, she must still believe in Santa Claus!” The silvery afterglow had gone out of the sky. There was a sharp chill in the gathering twilight. CHAPTER VI Frank's first day at Fardale acad- emy had been one to remember. Unexpected things had happened, but nothing had surprised him half as much as the sudden and puzzling switch-around by Inza Burrage. It was ridiculous for her to imagine he could be chummy with Bart Hodge. She must think him a silly sap! There was something back of it, of course. guessed the answer: made a touchdown with her. had scored in spite of his bad fum- bles. Frank was bitterly disappointed in Inza. He had put her right back into the beautiful and dumb line-up. Well, it was okay with him. He had said he wouldn't need an opi- “I'm Leaving It Up to You, Frank.” He had dropped her like a hot po- his dreams. But something ruptured those dreams, whatever they were about, some time in the still hours of the night. He started up and blinked at a glaring light that blinded him for a moment or two. His first thought was that the whole place was afire, and it gave him a great shock; but before he could catch his breath twice a strong hand gripped his shoulder and a voice hissed: ‘““Keep still, frosh! If you make a peep you're a dead duck!” Another hand, grasping something short and bright and glittering, came into the circle of light. The thing was aimed straight at Merry's bedazzled eyes, and the round, dark hole in the end of it looked like a mouth that could speak even more rudely than the voice that had just uttered the warning. Frank kept still. He collected his wits swiftly. The light that had blinded him came from a flashlight held so close that he could feel the faint heat of it on his face. No wonder he had thought the place was afire. And now the reflection of the light from the wall at the head of his bed showed him many dark forms in the room. There seemed to be at least ten of them, and their faces were hidden by black masks. A second light snapped on sud- denly and dazzled Barney Mulloy, who had begun to stir in his bed. A second gleaming thing men- aced the startled Irish boy. “Suffering catfish!” gasped Bar- ney. “Silence, bogtrotter!” whispered command. on you.” “lI see that,” admitted Mulloy, also in a whisper, “but who are you, me lad—and your friends?” “We're the execution committee.” Barney swallowed hard. ““The execution committee? I don’t like the sound of the name.” “Shut up and get up. Don't squawk, don't make the smallest rumpus, don't start any foolishness wih us. You'll be bumped if you “Take it easy, Barney,” advised was the “The spot is Frank, who had been pulled out of bed and stood on his feet. ‘‘Some- body has put the finger on us, but we'll get him.” “Smart boy,” sneered one of the masked fellows. ‘You're wise to be good. Hop into your trousers now, for you're going to take a nice cool walk in the bracing air.” Hodge had been made to get up also, and he was grumbling. Yet he wasn’t making as much of a fuss as might have been expected. And he obeyed the order to dress him- self with no apparent great objec- tion or reluctance, They were allowed to put on stock- ings but not shoes. Some of the masked intruders took charge of their shoes. ‘‘Just so nobody will drop them carelessly as we're go- ing out,” explained one of them. “It might disturb the sweetly slumber- ing freshies.” “You're very thoughtful and con- siderate,” said Merriwell. “Oh, sure. We never fry more than three freshmen in one night. It's quite enough, they're so very green and gummy.” The door was opened softly and Frank and Barney were marched along the corridor and down stairs with those shiny things poked against their backs and held there. The Irish boy had taken his cue had an idea that something not down before the night was over. Hodge was in the hands of fel- lows who were giving their undi- | vided attention to him. The round moon, riding high, | seemed to grin at them when they were out under the open sky. There the three freshmen were allowed to sit down on the steps and put on their shoes. The campus clock | struck one as they moved on again. “It's a real lovely night for a murder,” observed Merriwell pleas- antly. “Maybe you'll think it is before the night is over," said the one who had poked the shiny thing at him. Frank gave him a keen glance The mask was baffling, but the voice had sounded familiar. They left the school grounds by a | well - trodden path that brought them, before long, near the shore on which the surf was murmuring. Far- ther on, ‘they came to the cove where the academy boathouse was located. Merry thought of his first view of the building from the top of | the hill, only three days ago. Plenty | had happened since then. Now what? The leader of the masks walked straight to the door of the boat- house and rapped a signal on it with the shiny thing in his hand. “Who's there?’ came a challenge from the other side of the door. “The execution committee with doomed victims,” was the answer. “Bur-r-r!"’ shivered Mulloy. “It's a slight chill I have." The heavy door swung open. “En- ter, Chief Executioner, with the ex- ecution committee and your vic- tims,” said a masked boy who had been waiting there with three com- panions. “But who are you?" suspiciously asked the one who had knocked. He leaned forward and peered at the fellow who had opened the door. “You're one too many here.” “1 am Justice,” was the solemn reply, "and I'm here to see that my name is not defiled.” “You're just a butt-in,” said the chief executioner, as if annoyed. “Somebody must have got careless and slopped over. Oh, well, don’t get the notion you're running the show.” The captive freshmen were led | into the building. The door was closed and fastened behind them. The interior of the boathouse was lighted, but closed window-shutters had prevented the light from being seen from the outside, “Now just a minute, please,” said Mulloy after they had entered. “I'm not making a squawk over being hazed a bit, you understand, but when it comes to using pistols to make us take it, I call that going some, And I'll have ye know I re- sent it." “Why, you poor flannel-mouthed pipsqueak!” said the leader of the hazers. ‘Let me give you a good look at the kind of pistols we work with. Here's one of them.” He held up the shining thing in his hand for Barney to see, and Barney's eyes bulged. “It was a nickel-plated water fau- cet! “Well, for the love of grandmoth- er's sink!” gasped Barney Mulloy, staring at the thing he had mis- taken for a pistol. “Nothing but a water-faucet! Now I lay me down to sleep!” The hazers were laughing behind their black masks. Even Merriwell, had been fooled as much as Mulloy, was forced to laugh. “It's a leg on us, Barney,” admitted. “But there's he another “You've said it, smart boy,” “and you'll do the shaking." Once more Frank looked sharply at the speaker. Now he was sure “I'm shivering “1 always shiver in a draft, and there's a strong breeze blowing from the Grand Can- yon." The big fellow's body jerked and became as stiff as an icicle. His eyes glared at Merry's laughing face through the holes in his mask. With a snap of his hand, he threw the water-faucet away under the cradle in which the school's eight- “Where are snarled. “Bring see if this wise guy medicine." “1 was told,” said Frank smooth- . 'em on and let's 8 can take hi the gloves?’ h 1 There was a report that four sophs had been let out for taking part in the pastime last ’ “But this is no hazing," declared the Chief Executioner. “It's a sac- rifice and you're the goat. It won't any good Ao kick, either. “Say the word,” whispered Mul- loy in Frank's ear, “and I'm with ye to make good fish hash of this bunch.” Merry shook his head. “It isn't worth it," he replied, “the odds be- ing what they are. Wait for a bet- ter break, Barney.” He didn't let them pull the sweater off him. He removed it him- self and stood naked to the waist. The one who had called himself Jus- tice took a look at Merriwell’s tor- so, shoulders and arms, and whis- tied softly. “Maybe this isn't the goat, after all,” he said, "but we'll find out. It won't be long now." Then Frank and Barney saw that several of the masked fellows had stripped Hodge to the waist also. Bart had protested against it, but his objections had sounded strangely weak. There was dirt in the air. One of the hazers had brought forward a set of boxing gloves. At sight of them, Merriwell got it. This was to be the show-down between him and Hodge, and Bart had been wise to it all the time. That was why he had submitted so weakly from the start. (TO BE CONTINUED) Study of health conditions among the Eskimos of Alaska has led Dr. Victor E. Levine, Creighton univer- sity professor, to disagree with a senator that the high death rate from tuberculosis is due to the na- tives’ wearing white men's clothing, writes an Omaha United Press cor- respondent. The chairman of the Senate In- dian Affairs committee, on return- ing from an inspection trip of Alas- ka, declared that the natives have taken to ‘‘silk stockings, calico dresses and white man’s clothes in- stead of warm furs.” Dr. Levine says that the Eskimo uses the white man’s clothing only in the short summer months. ‘In this respect he is very sensi- ble,” he said. “In the long winter months he wears his native fur clothing.” The death rate among the Eski- mos was stated in a study made by Dr. F. 8S. Fellows, past assistant surgeon general of the United States Health service. Dr. Fellows report- ed that the death rate due to tuber- culosis among the Indians and Es- kimos was 655 for 100,000, against 57 for 100,000 in the United States. Rev. W. H. Hunter, of Benson, Neb., has spent several summers among the Eskimos of the upper Hudson bay country. He reports that the natives showed a fondness for the white man's clothing. At one time he wanted to take a picture of an Eskimo woman in her native garb. “Wait till I change my clothes,” she said. Running into her igloo, she returned wearing white wom- an's apparel. Old Fort Strategie “Key to our province” was the term often applied to Cockspur is- land, at the mouth of the Savanah river, by Sir James Wright, royal governor of Georgia. The strategic- al position of the little island early led to its fortification, the first such defense being built in 1761, reports the Interior department. The struc- ture was commenced in 18290 and ranks as one of the best preserved of the brick fortresses along the Atlantic coast constructed during the early half of the Nineteenth century. It was named Fort Pulaski, in honor of the gallant Pole, Count Casimir Pulaski, who fell at the Battle of Savannah, in 1779, during the war of the American Revolution. 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Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers