Jack Lightfoot's touch=down; or, A hard nut to crack at Highland

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Jack Lightfoot's touch=down; or, A hard nut to crack at Highland

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Jack Lightfoot's touch=down; or, A hard nut to crack at Highland
Series Title:
All-Sports Library
Stevens, Maurice
Place of Publication:
New York
Winner Library
Publication Date:
Physical Description:
1 online resource (30 p.)


Subjects / Keywords:
Dime novels. ( lcsh )
Sports stories, American. ( lcsh )
Athletic clubs -- Fiction ( lcsh )
serial ( sobekcm )


Original Version:
Volume 1, Number 41

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Source Institution:
University of South Florida
Holding Location:
University of South Florida
Rights Management:
The University of South Florida Libraries believes that the Item is in the Public Domain under the laws of the United States, but a determination was not made as to its copyright status under the copyright laws of other countries. The Item may not be in the Public Domain under the laws of other countries.
Resource Identifier:
A46-00027 ( USFLDC DOI )
a46.27 ( USFLDC Handle )
025841723 ( ALEPH )
07634401 ( OCLC )

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As Jack, hugging the pigskin to his chest, cleared that scrambling mob, be dragged a couple of the philistinos along over the line.


Pub' h N t "Teac:ll ttie Amerfcan lloy flow to l>ome atfltete, an4 Jay the foanc!atlon for a eomtttatloa tllan tl!ft S erS 0 e. of the United States. -Wle sayings from "Tip Top." There bas never been a time when the boys of this country took 10 keen an Interest In all manly and bealthirfvlng sports u they do to-day. A proof of this witness the record-breaking throags that attend college struggles on the as well as athletic and baseball games, and other tests of endurance and skill. In a multitude of other channels this love for the "life strenuous" 11 making Itself manifest, so that, as a nation, we are rapidly forging to the front as seekers of boaest sport. Recognizing this "handwriting on the wall, we have concluded that the time has arrived to give this vast army of 7oung enthuilutl a publication devoted exclusively to invigorating out-door life. We feel we are Justified In anticipating a warm response from our sturdJ' American boys, who are sare to revel In the stirring phases of sport and adventure, through which our characters pus from week to week. ALL-SPORTS LIBRARY llllUll WetfllY, By llJO per y1or. /lntwed aecord inr to A.ct of ConKress ;,. tlte year rqos, ;,. tlu Of/ice o/ Ill# Libr11ri111t o/ Conr,.,u, ... D c., by THE WINNER LIBRARY Co., r 6 s Wes t F ifteen t h 3t., New Yor.6, N. Y No. 41. NEW YORK, November 18, 1905. Price Five Cents. JACK LlfiHTFOOT'S TOUCH=DOWN; A Hard Nut to Crack at Highland. By MAURICE STEVENS. CHARACTERS IN THIS STORY. Jack Lightfoot, the best all-round athlete in Cranford o r vicinity a lad clear of eye, clean of speech, and, after he had conquered a few of his faults, possessed of a faculty for doing things while others were talking, that by degrees caused him to be looked upo n as the natural leader in all the sports Young America delights in-a boy who in learning to conquer himself put the power into his hands to w rest victory from others. Tom Lightfoot, Jack's cousin, and sometimes his rival, though their striving for the mastery was always of the friendly, generous kind. Tom was called the "Book-Worm" by his fellows, on ac count of his love for studying such secrets of nature as practical observers have discovered and published; so that he possessed a fund of general knowledge calculated to prove useful when his wandering spirit took him abroad into strange lands. Ned Skeen, of impulsive, nervous temperam e nt, but a good friend of Jack's. Nat Kimball, a n undersized fellow, whose hobby was the study of jiu-jitsu, and who had a dread of germs. Lafe Lampton, a big, h ulkin g chap, with a n ever p resent cravin g for something to eat. Lafe always had his appetite along, and a stanch friend of our hero through tilick and thin. Phil Kirtland, a rival of Jack's, but who is not averse to winning a little glory at times, even 1f he has to share it with Lightfoot. Jubal Marlin, one o f J ack's friends, with a Yankee love for making money. Katie Strawn and NeJlle Conner, two Cranford girls, friends of Jack. Farmer Littlefield, who b elieved boys should work while they wer e not sleeping. Mrs. Littlefield, his wife, who shared his views. Lee Sheldon, captain of the Highland "Eleven," and a boy after Jack's heart. Weary Watson, a t r a m p who was m o r e t h a n he seemed to be. CHAPTER I. JUBAL M ARLIN A S A HYPNOTIST. Farmer Lit t lefiel d was o u t by t h e b arn, in a furi o u s temper l o ok ing up the road i n t he d ire ction of H i g h la nd in the gather i n g gl oo m of approac h i n g ni g ht. Mrs Lit t lefield h i s w i f e was in th e house, bu s tlin g fro m t he kitchen int o t h e din ing ro om-w h i ch was a lso the si tt ing room-and throw ing a w or d n ow an d then t o th e y oung fellow who sat there in the dining ro om, w ai ti ng. This y o ung fellow w as Jubal Marlin and he was wai ting for Lee Sheldon w h o w as, jus t then, Little field s hired man or more c orre ctl y ch o re b oy. The cows had c o me up to the pa s ture bars and had been turned into the barn by the farmer, but Sheld on, w h o se duty it w a s to milk th e m and do sundry o t her th i n gs, h ad n ot ap peared He h ad go ne t o Hig hla n d early in the day, to attend the high school, and had


2 ALlrSPORTS LIBRARY. promised to be back early; and here night was at hand, and the work waiting, and he had not yet come. "It's that caonfounded feetball that's keepin' him!" fumed Littlefield. "He ain't got no sense since they begun it. What a lot o' youngsters want tew go tew wastin' their time kickin' an old ball raound a field fer, gits me. If they want tew work, there's plenty of it to do. It's harder'n choppin' wood, an' when you're choppin' wood you're

ALL-SPORTS LIBRARY. 3 win the game to-morrer, but we'll have whole cayoodles of fun a-doin' it!" When she came in again she had a large, empty dish pan in her hand. Jubal began his passes once more, and she came straight toward him, staring and very red in the face. "By hemlock, I'm gittin' her!" When she came still closer, he moved his hand faster, staring and wrinkling his brows. "It's workin' !" was his exultant thought. "An' if I can git her this easy, I'll git that football captain shore as shootin'." Then she bent toward him, and, lifting the pan, she hit him over the head with it, almost driving his head through the bottom of the pan. "Make faces at me, will ye, you consarned idjit ?" she howled, smashing him over the head again with the pan. "Come to my haouse and set in my dinin' room an' go to makin' faces at me, do ye?" Whack! "Makin' fun of yer betters, be ye?'' Crash! "In sultin' a lady!" Bang! "I'll teach ye some manners, seein' ye ain't got any!" Whack! Bang! Smash! Crash! She was laying about her in lively fashion, beating Jubal over the head ; and when he sprang to his feet, with an of the chair he had occupied, she drove him into a corner, and continued to "lay it on" good and hard. "Because I'm a country woman, and you're frum the town, you needn't think you can come an' set in my dinin' room an' make fun o' me! I'll beat yer ugly face off ye, so I will!" Jubal made a desperate dive, and got by her and out of the corner. The dishpan was still waving, and it showed a dent for every time it had struck Juba1's head. His cap had been knocked off, and lay in the corner, and he feared to try to get it. So he stood by the outer door, toward which he had run, with an arm uplifted to shield his face. In his hand he still held the shining disc. "It's a mistake!" he declared. "Yeou're mistook abaout this I didn't--" "Tell me I'm a liar, do ye? Didn't I see you settin' there makin' faces at me?'' She advanced toward him. "But-but--" Jubal stuttered. "I wasn't thinkin' of insultin' yeou, be' gosh! I was jist-jist tryin' an ixperiment on ye." He stood ready to dive through the doorway and seek safety in the yard. "I-I been learnin' a trick lately, an' I was jistjist tryin' it on ye. I didn't mean any harm by it." Worse to Jubal than the beating and the sharp words was the discovery that his hypnotic trick had failed utterly, just when he had fancied it was working to perfection. "Clear out of here, and don't never let me see your face ag'in !" she commanded, waving the dishpan. "Clear out! You don't git no supper in my house now, I tell ye! Clear out! Go back to town, where ye belong, and learn some manners !" -Jubal stood in the doorway, hesitating. He did not want to clear out-he wanted to stay meet young Sheldon, and try that trick on him. That it had failed in this case was not an indication that it would fail in his, he argued. "Clear out!" she repeated, "er I'll call my husband and have him throw ye out. Settin' in my dinin' room makin' faces at me, jist because I'm a little old woman and wrinkled, tryin' to make wrinkles on yer fore head jist like mine air! I never seen a town boy yit that had any manners. Clear out o' here, fer I don't want to see ye ag'in." Jubal saw that he would have to go, and that if she summoned her crochety husband, in his present temper, there might be "something doing" that would be very disagreeable. "I'll go, if you'll give me my cap." She kicked it toward him, and Jubal picked it up hastily, expecting to feel the dishpan again as he did so. "But I'm comin' back ag'in," he added, as he stepped down to the doorstep. "I'm wantin' to see Mr. Shel don, and--" "Mister Sheldon! He ain't no more a mister than I be. He's another crazy kid like you; and when he gits back here, he'll see some fun! Them caows ain't milked yit, ner fed, and there ain't anything done, and--" She stopped, breathless. "He's jist like you an' the other no-'count trash he's taken to runnin' with. An' hell git it when he comes home." Farmer Littlefield's heavy boots were heard thud ding in the yard, and Jubal backed further from the door. "I wish, pa, you'd whale the Old Harry out'n that boy!" the woman screamed, when she heard her hus band's footsteps. "He"s been makin' faces at me, right in my own dinin' room, and insultin' me dread ful!" Farmer Jason Littlefield picked up a heavy horse-


4 ALL-SPORTS LIBRARY. whip that hung on a nail outside the door, near his hand, and with it made a rush at Jubal. Then Jubal fled incontinently out into the night, for darkness had gathered. "Such luck!" he grumbled. "Jist when I thought the trick was workin', it went back on me. I mis-cued it somehaow. But I'll work it on Lee Sheldon yit, even if I did fail this time. By cracky, I've got tew We've got tew win that game to-morrow. And think of the dead loads of fun it'd be, besides, if the captain of the oppersition should git all tangled up, and say one thing when all the time he was meanin' another. Oh, I got tew work that trick yit somehaow I'll come back ag'in bimel?J, and I'll work it by some hook er crook. By hemlock, I've got tew !" Then Jubal walked along the road, expecting to meet Lee Sheldon as the latter made his way home ward from the town. CHAPTER II. LEE SHELDON. Lee Sheldon was a new acquisition to the athletic world of Highland. He had come to the place at the beginning of the school term, for the purpose of entering the high school. He was an orphan boy, and had no money, but he had ambition, and was not afraid to work. He wanted an education, and he was resolved to work his way through the high school, and then through col lege. Many another boy has done the same, and he was sure that what others had done he could do. The first place that opened to him was Farmer Littlefield's, and he accepted it, agreeing to do "chores" for his board through the winter. He had found, however, as several who had tried the place had found before him, that Littlefield was a hard man to get along with. Jason Littlefield's idea of what a young fellow should do for his board was that he ought to rush: home as soon as school was dismissed, and work until nine o'clock at night; rise at four in the morning, and work till school time again; and do a man's work in the woods at chopping every Saturday, with enough general and miscellaneous work on Sunday to occupy any two men. For a time Sheldon tried hard to fill these require ments. But even then he had not been able to get on with Littlefield, who had a fiery temper, and could never be satisfied, no matter how well any piece of work was done. When the Highland eleven was organized, with practice playing at the noon hour and after sc hool, Lee Sheldon showed such a thorough knowledge of the game, and was so fine a player, that he was chosen captain of the eleven, even though he was a com parative stranger in the town. There was a certain cheery way with him that won friends, in addition to the fact that he was the best football player in Highland. He played with the eleven in practice work each noon, and several times lately he had remained for a short game after school hours, thinking by harder work and remaining up later at night he could do the work thus neglected, and please Littlefield. Then Littlefield ordered him not to play football after school, and objected to him playing it even dur ing the noon hour, though, as young Sheldon did not come home at noon, what difference his playing could make to the farmer was not clear. But his delay on the afternoon in which this story opens was not because he had tarried at the school grounds for footbaU practice, but because he assisted a boy who had been injured by a runaway horse. The horse had dashed toward the schoolhouse just as school was dismissed, with the boy hanging to the lines and unable to control the animal. Sheldon had leaped out into the road, clutched the bits, and brought the horse to a stop with difficulcy but while he was doing that, the wheel of the spring wagon had struck a rock, and the jolt had shot the boy out on his head, severely injuring him. As this boy was a neighbor of Littlefield's, though living on a different road, Sheldon had agreed to take him home in the spring wagon. On his arrival at the boy's home, the demands of the frantic mother had caused Sheldon to turn back with the spring wagon for Highland, to get a doctor. This was the cause of the long delay. He had secured the doctor, and had done some other little things which the distracted mother desired, after his return to the place with the physician. Jubal did not meet him, for Lee Sheldon returned to Littlefield's by crosslots, instead of coming down the road from town. But when Jubal was still no more than a half a mile from the house, Sheldon put in an appearance there, finding both Mr. and Mrs. Littlefield in a towering rage. The first person he saw was Littlefield, who ap-


ALL-SPORTS LIBRARY. peared from the outside with that horsewhip in his hand. "What's the meanin' of this 'ere?" he bellowed, fiercely, drawing the whiplash through his left hand, as if making ready to use it. Littlefield's tone was so harsh and his manner so threatening that Sheldon's face flushed a deep red. Though he was not a boy to be talked to in that manner, he began an explanation, which was cut short. "Yer a liar You was stoppin' there in taown play in' f eetball. Them caows ain't milked-yit-" "And you don't git no supper till they air milked!" cut in the farmer's wife. I "Sich laziness I never see!" said Littlefield. "Here them caows has been sense before dark, an' ain't milked yit. And they ain t fed, ner the horses ain't. "An' the water an' the wood ain't been brought in !" said Mrs. Littlefield. Lee Sheldon looked at the whip which Jason Little field was swishing through his hand. "What are you going to do with that?"' he asked. "I'm goin' to lay it over yer ornery back!" said Littlefield, advancing into the room. "There ain't go in' to be no more of this f eetball bizness raound here now, I tell ye! When I hire a fell er to do work fer me, he's goin' to do it, er I'll know why! What air we feedin' you fer, anyhow? To play feetball ?" "I intended to explain to you!" "That's what you been doin' before; but explainin' ain't workin', an' it's work I'm wan.tin' to see." "Ain't I been settin' good meals before ye?" Mrs. Littlefield snapped. "I think I've earned them," said Sheldon, coolly. Although angered, he felt almost amused by the foolish rage of these people. They were so narrow minded and altogether so unreasonable. "If you stand in the door, how am I to go out and milk those cows?" he asked of Littlefield. Unavoidably, he spoke lightly, and in what Littlefield thought a mocking tone, though Sheldon did not intend it so. Yet he could afford to smile at these old skinflints; for before he had come away from the home of the farmer whose boy he had assisted, he had been there offered a place where he would have a better outlook on life, and the work to be performed would not be such a treadmill as he had found it here. Yes, he could afford even to smile. What he considered Sheldon's tone of levity stung Littlefield to the quick. To his mind, this young fel fow was making fun of him. So, with a cry of rage, he sprang at Sheldon and brought the heavy whip down across his shoulders with stinging force. "Make fun o' me, will ye?" he howled. "Jist like that other ongrateful wretch that was here awhile ago!" sputtered Mrs. Littlefield. "Boys a'in't wuth shucks any more, except to make fun o' people." "Don't strike me again!" said Sheldon, as the farmer drew the whip back for another blow. "I'll cut the hide off'n your back!" screamed Littlefield. "I'd advise you not to! I'm not a boy, understand I'm almost a man grown." Sheldon stood by the wall, trembling. "You'd advise me not to, would ye?" howled Littlefield, in a rage. "Well, here you git it! The whip whistled through the air again. Sheldon caught the lash, and the whip was jerked from the farmer's hands and shot across the room, striking the opposite wall with a thud. "You can't cowhide me as if I were only a kid!" said Sheldon, angrily. Sheldon's daring fairly took away the farmer's breath. With a scream of rage, Mrs. Sheldon now ran into the kitchen, returning instantly with a pan of scalding hot water; while Littlefield sprang to pick up the heavy whip "I'll scald ye !" the woman yelled. "And I'll cut the hide off'n your back by inches!" screamed Littlefield, regaining possession of the whip. "And you don't git a bite of supper till that work's all done!" said the woman. "You don't git none, even when it is done!" threat ened Littlefield. "I'm the boss of this 'ere place, rec'lect !" "You don't boss me any longer," Sheldon declared. The farmer, mad with rage, again rushed at him. Sheldon had too much self-respect t strike Littlefield, or do more than def end himself, much as the old man needed to be taught a lesson. Besides, he knew that if he should strike either Littlefield or his wife he would probably be arrested for it, and an ugly story would go out about it, which would probably injure him in the eyes of the people. "Don't hit me again!" he cried, putting up his hand. Again the whip whistled through tpe air. Sheldon knocked it aside, but the lash stung him o n the arm, raising a red welt. Jerking the whip again from Littlefield's hands,


6 ALL-SPORTS LIBRARY. Sheldon seemed about to hurl it at him, for the pain angered him almost beyond endurance. But he con trolled himself. "I'll scald ye!" cried the woman. Sheldon threw the whip to the floor in scorn. "Bah!" he said. "You're too contemptible to live!" His hand was on the door leading to the stairway which gave admittance to his room, and he swung it open and darted through it, just in time to escape the scalding water that the angry woman threw at him. Once inside, he closed the door, though he did not lock it, and went on up to his room. "I'll kill him!" he heard Littlefield scream, and heard Mrs Littlefield declare that she would "scald him like a chicken !" At the top of the stairs, Sheldon stopped and laughed. "Pleasant people to live with!" There was a humorous aspect to the affair which he could not fail to see, now that he was assured of an other home far better than this. "Let 'em fume!" he muttered. "Why should I pay any attention to two such old curmudgeons? I'll simply get out." The room he had entered was dark. He struck a match, and, going over to the litt1e stand by the wall, the small lamp he knew was there. Its light revealed the small, scantily furnished place, with the narrow bed in the corner and the stand containing the lamp. A chair was the only other article, except his trunk, unless mention is made of some nails in the side walls which served as hooks and on which some of his clothing hung Littlefield and his wife were still raging round below stairs; and, hearing them, Lee Sheldon laughed bit terly. "It's time to get out of here. I'll go over to Bart lett's to-night, and I'll stay there. I can send for my trunk. I'm glad to get out of here, anyway. Little field can milk his own cows to-night, and do his own chores, or let them go." He began to take his clothing off the nails. Then he brought a few things out of his trunk. He made them all up into a bundle, which he wrapped in a newspaper and tied with twine. Having done that, he hoisted the one little window, which looked out on a shed roof, and crept through it with his bundle. It was not a long leap from the shed roof to the ground, and he took it lightly. Then he vaulted the nearby fence, and, finding a pole, he hung his bundle at the end of it, put the pole over his shoulder, and thus set out for his new home through the darkness. CHAPTER III. THE ROOM RECEIVES ANOTHER OCCUPANT. As Lee Sheldon crept thus through the window and down to the ground and away into the night, he was unaware that a pair of eyes watched him. A trampish figure had drawn up in the road, and seemed about to turn toward the barn for a night's shelter. ;I'his figure stopped when the noise of the hoisting window came, and then, crouohing down by the side of the road, watched and waited until Sheldon was gone. The window of the little room still stood open, for Sheldon had not closed it after him, and there was the low shed from which Sheldon had jumped. The shed and the open window seemed inviting. So, instead of turning toward the barn, the trampish I figure stole softly to the shed. For an instant he looked up at the window. From that side of the house he could not hear the voices of the man and woman. After a little he explored along the wall with his hands, and gave a grunt of satisfaction when he found a short ladder. "Jist de t'ing!" he said, with a chuckle of satis faction. "Wonder who de chu mp was dat come out? But it's all right, fer it gives me a chance to git in, see!" Hoisting the ladder up to the window, he softly mounted it and entered the room. Sheldon had blown out the lamp, but the trampish figure fished a match from one of his ragged pockets and relighted it. He looked about the room, which was now some what in disorder. Sheldon had put back into the trunk his belongings not taken, and had locked it, but he had not taken the trouble to clean up the room: The tramp dropped into one chair and looked about with a wide smile of satisfaction. "That feller was goin' out in a way to show that he didn't want anybody to know it, and he ain't comin' back ter-night. So I'll jist take it easy 'ere-see! Say, this is great-better than a haymow, anyway, an' how like old times it seems I Wonder who he was, and why he slid? I'll ask him next time we meet ; He laughed, and took off his ragged hat and fanned


ALL-SPORTS LIBRARY. himself with it, though the air which came through the open window was rather cold, for the time was November and the nights were decidedly sharp and frosty. "Yes, I'd like to know who that was, an' why he was in sich a hurry. Might 'a' been a thief, Won der if there's anything else around here worth takin' ?'" He rose from the chair and began to look about. As he did so he heard footsteps on the stairs, and then the bellowing voice of old Farmer Littlefield. "Come out o' there, er I'll come in an' drag ye out! Them caows ain't milked yit." The trampish figure gave a jump of surprise, then dropped into the chair and laughed heavily, though silently. "So, that's it!" he muttered. man, an' the hired man's skipped. 'im. I'd do the same, you bet." row with the hired Well, I don't blame "Come outi.o' there!" Littlefield bellowed. The tramp rose softly and put the chair against the door, using it as a prop by placing it under the knob. "Come out o' there an' go an' milk them caows !" yelled Littlefield. The tramp's hairy face expanded in a wide smile. "Nit!" he yelled back, in a disguised voice. "I ain't goin' to." "I'll kill ye if ye don't come aout !" roared Littlefield. "All right, go ahead wit' your killin'. I'm used to it." If Littlefield had not been in such a towering rage, he might have discovered that this was not the voice of Lee Sheldon; but he was too angry to notice that. "When you do come aout, I'll .horsewhip ye within an inch o' yer life!" he threatened. "I wouldn't!" said the tramp, jocularly. He sat on the edge of the bed, grinning. The coolness and effrontery of the supposed Lee Sheldon wa;s enough to give Farmer Littlefield a stroke of apoplexy He fairly purpled with rage. But, seeing that it would be foolish to attempt to storm that room with no other weapon than a horse whip; he went back downstairs to confer with his wife. The trampish figure listened gleefully at the key hole at the storm of words which came up from below. "They're in a good humor to-night-I think!" "I'll milk them caows, and in the mornin' I'll whale Tophet aout of him!" Littlefield stormed. "And he shan't have a bite o' breakfast fer a week!" threatened Mrs. Littlefield. "I ain't goin' to cook an' do fer no sich ornery trash. He was fair laughin' at ye., was he?'" "Whoop 'er up, old man!" shouted the trampish figure through the keyhole. \ Mrs. Littlefield almost fell in a fit. "The owdacious scoundrel!" she gasped. "Did ye hear that, Jason?" "Oh, I heard it!" grumbled Littlefield, as he rattled round the room. "He thinks he's too big fer me to handle him; but, by jacks! the shotgun yit, and if I can't make him come to time no other way, I'll use that. I got to milk them caows, mother .T'won't never do to let 'em go till mornin'." "Get out an' milk 'em, you old duffer!" shouted the trampish figure. Littlefield was so enraged that he grabbed the shot gun from its naii. "Danged if I don't send a charge of bird shot into ye, you limb of Satan!" he yelled. "Zounds, I will !" "He's makin' fun o' ye, Jason!" screamed Mrs. Littlefield. "I'd like to scald him." "I wisht you !" sputtered Littlefield; "I wish you'd scald ever' hair off'n his wuthless head!" "Whow Whoop 'er up!" came through the key hole. For an instant Littlefield looked as if he meant to send the charge of bird shot through the ceiling in the direction of that mocking voice. But he contented himself with shaking his fist at the v01ce. "Don't fergit that I'll settle with ye!" he yelled. "After all the cookin' I've done fer 'im !" sobbed Mrs. Littlefield, growing hysterical. "Jason, I'm afraid to stay in the house! I think ru go out with ye while you milk. I'm afeared of him. Oh, why did we take sich an ondutiful boy to keep? I've been a mother to him, an' that's the way he treats me!" She sobbed and blew her nose violently. "Ta-ta!" came through the keyhole. "When you bid the house good-by, I'll come down an' git some supper. Where d'you keep the pie?" "Jist listen to him!" sobbed Mrs. Littlefield. "Oh, I'll settle with you, you varmint of the in fernal regions!" yelled !...ittlefield, again shaking his fist. "Jist remember that I'll settle with you!" He collected the tin pails and slammed out of the house; and Mrs. Littlefield, frightened now, fled out toward the barn with him. "Oh, oh!" roared the tramp. "This is enough to kill me!" /


3 ALL-SPORTS LIBRARY. He drew back the chair from the door, and, drop ping into it, laughed till he shook like a bag of jelly. "I guess I'd better prop something agin' that/' he said, when through laughing. He drew the little washstand in front of it, for he had no key. Then he sat down again in the chair and looked the room over Rising, he searched round the room. There was nothing of value in it. "Nothing in the hired man's room, o' course. I wonder if I'd dare to take a look below?" He pulled the stand away from the door, and, with the lamplight streaming down the stairs, he descended to the lower rooms. The first thing his eyes lighted on was a little pocketbook tucked behind the clock, on a shelf. He pulled it out, opened it, and chuckled when he saw five dollars and some loose change in it. He dropped it into his pocket, and began to look further This took him into the kitchen, where his greedy eyes lighted on a mince pie. As his hands closed on it, he heard Mrs. Littlefield returning to the house. "Money and pie!" he whispered. "Gee! I'm swim min' in luck!" He retreated softly to the stairs, and, mounting, was soon in the room again, with the washstand pushed up against the door. He sat in the chair and devoured the pie with great relish, eating even the crumbs that fell on his clothing. He was in a hilarious mood, and drink, or some thing else, had made him reckless; for, when he finished the pie, he put out the lamp and stretched himself on the bed. As soon as the farmer got back from the barn, he began to shout again up the stairs, commanding Lee Sheldon to come down and get in some wood and water. The tramp lay on the bed, laughing. After awhile the sounqs below subsided. That pie, filling a long-felt want, had made the tramp sleepy, and even before Littlefield quieted down, he had become so that he could hardly hold his eyes open; and now he fell fast asleep on the bed. The farmer had pushed the door open, in spite of the opposing washstand, and, invading the room softly, with the horsewhip, he began to lay it heavily across the form on the bed. "Laugh at me, an' make fun o' me, will ye; and come downstairs while I'm out an' fill yemelf up on pie, will ye ?" Almost every word was emphasized with a stroke of the whip. The trampish figure rolled off the bed, bellowing with pain and rage. The next moment he had the farmer round the waist, and the next Jason Littlefield was shooting down the stairway, impelled by the tramp's strong arms. There was a scream as he struck, for Mrs. Little field was at the bottom of the stairs awaiting the out come of her husband's venture into Lee Sheldon's room, and the old man hit her fairly, knocking her down and then falling on her. After that crash there was an instant of silence. Then came the question : "Mother"-the voice of the ye hurt?'" "Oh, Jason!" Mrs. Littlefield wailed, "I'm killed!" Then the tramp threw himself on the bed, and, stuffing the pillow in his mouth, he rolled and kicked, doubled up with silent laughter. Yet the stings of that whiplash were smarting on him most unpleasantly. CHAPTER IV. JUBAL MARLIN'S RETURN. At a late hour Jubal Marlin returned down the road toward Farmer Littlefield's. The moon had risen, and Jubal could see his way plainly--could even see the outlines of the house and barn while they were still a considerable distance away. Jubal was unsatisfied. He had made an ignominious failure of his hypnotic trial on Mrs. Littlefield, and had not been able to make a single test on Lee Sheldon. When Jubal arrived at the house, it was dark. The Littlefields had probably retired for the night. "I vum Gone to bed!" said Jubal, looking at the house from the toad. "I didn't know it was so late." He saw the open window of Lee Sheldon's room. Standing close by the fence, Jubal whistled softly, hoping to arouse Sheldon. The distance to town was about a mile, and Jubal did not want to go back. Besides, he had come there for the express purpose of trying to hypnotize Sheldon. "If he's sleepy, an' I wake him up, it'll be easier to


ALL-SPORTS LIBRARY. 9 git him under the control of it," was Jubal's thought. "I reckon I could climb up to that winder." He climbed the fence and came close up to the shed, and there again whistled softly. Then he saw the ladder left by the tramp, and saw how easy it would be to climb to the shed roof and then to Lee's room. He resolved to do it. Scarcely a minute later he was poking his head through the window. "St!" he hissed. "Gone tew bed, air ye? Well, it's a good thing to turn in early, on account of that game to-morrow.'' He stared hard into the room, supposing that Shel don was When he got no answer, he crept on in through the window, fully expecting to find Shel don curled up in bed. "By hemlock, if he ain't still aout somewhere workin', at this time o' night! That farmer's goin' tew kill him 'fore the winter's through. Work's all right, an' I believe in it, but that ain't any jestification fer a man kill in' the feller that works fer him. By gravy, I'd git another place!" Jubal sat on the edge of the bed, thinking thus, and wondering how soon Lee Sheldon would return. He was himself tired and sleepy, for the hour was later than he thought. That day he had engaged in a practice game of footbali at Cranford; and had also, at the noon hour at Highland, done some practice work with a few Highland fellows who were willing to rush the pigskin with him. More than a week before he had made the acquain tance of Lee Sheldon, and had visited 4im at Jason Littlefield's, sleeping with him in this narrow bed overnight. So it did not seem so strange for him to be sitting there awaiting Lee's return. Being tired, Jubal lay back on the bed after a while, still waiting for Lee. had no intention of going to sleep, but he did; and he slept soundly until he was rudely awakened at an early hour in the morning. Farmer Littlefield was bellowing to Lee Sheldon to get up and go out and milk the cows. Jubal sat up with a jerk and rubbed his eyes. A dim light was coming through the open window, show ing that day was approaching. But Lee Sheldon was not in the bed, nor in the room. "By jacks, he didn't come back last night!" Jubal muttered. He knew of the trouble which Lee had had with the crossgrained old farmer, and of the amount of work which Lee was required to perform, for the night he had stayed here with Lee, the latter had told him all about it, and had gained Jubal's sympathy. "You'll come daown an' milk them caows naow, er I'll know why this time!" Littlefield was bellowing on the stairs ; and from the thud of boots Jubal knew that the angry farmer was ascending to the room. Jubal's first impulse was to leave the room by the window. But he knew he might be seen, and the straightforward way seemed the best. So he rose from the bed, and, going to the door that opened on the stairs, he pushed aside the washstand which the tramp had placed there, and opened the door. Jason Littlefield had come up the stairs with his old fashioned, double-barreled shotgun in his hands, and behind him, near the foot of the stairs, stood Mrs. Littlefield, urging him to be "cautious." The sudden opening of the door and the popping forth of the head of Jubal Marlin so astonished the farmer that he tripped on the stairs. Then the shotgun roared its contents, the trigger having been pulled by accident, and the shot tore a hole in the ceiling. It was a heavy charge of shot, and had been in the gun for many months. The rusty barrels and that rusted-in charge caused the gun to kick like a mule; and the next instant old Farmer Littlefield was tum bling back down the :>tairs, bellowing with pain and surprise, having been kicked from his feet by the gun. Mrs. Littlefield fled before him, as he tumbled from step to step" bringing up at the bottom of the stairs with a bump and a groan. J iWal was surprised and frightened. Apparently the farmer had meant to kill him. He recalled the happenings of t]le previous evening, when Mrs. Little field h;:td beaten him over the head with the dishpan and had driven him from the house. Jubal now slammed the door shut and leaped for the window. Littlefield heard him land with a thump on the roof of the shed. Wild with rage, he ran out of the house, vowing that he would have Jubal's life. Jubal had just cleared the fence with a flying leap when Littlefield came round the house. Seeing him there, the irate farmer blazed away with the second barrel of the rusty old shotgun. It kicked again, with as much force as before, knocking Littlefield once more from his feet. The shot, plowing up the earth close to Jubal, sent that young fell ow spinning at his best gait along the road in the direction of Highland. "Great codfish!" he sputtered, as he puffed along.


IO ALL-SPORTS LIBRARY. "That tarnal critter tried tew murder me! I dunno but I'd ought tew h ave the faw on him." Seeing that Jubal had escaped, Littlefield returned to the house, groaning, declaring that his right shoul der was broken; and Mrs. Littlefield began to fume about, heating water and preparing a mustard plaster. CHAPTER V. 'f.HE CALL FOR THE TRUNK, AND AFTERWARD. When Jubal had run for half a mile or so, he be came winded and slowed up. He knew he was out of danger. He looked about him. The sky was rapidly red dening in the east. "Wonder what in time has become of Lee Shel don?" was his thought. "By hemlock, I gotter see him, if I can, and work that trick on him. This is the day of the game." When Jubal started into anything, he was very persistent. The observing reader has already found that out, doubtless. Hence, thinking again of Lee Sheldon, Jubal stopped his mad flight toward the town and began to reflect on the situation. In spite of what had happened, he still believed that Sheldon would return to Littlefield's. He had noticed, for one thing, that Lee's trunk was still in the room. Jubal sat down by the roadside to think the matter over; and by and by, instead of going on in the d.irec tion of Highland, he began to retrace his way slowly toward Littlefield's. The sun was now up. When he came in sight of Littlefield's house, at a: bend in the road, he stqpped again and surveyed the place from that safe distance. Littlefield was coming from the barn with a pail 2f milk in his hand. I "I'm guessin' tha tumble daownstairs didn't cripple him up much," was Jubal's conclusion. "But Lee ain't there, er the old man wouldn't be

ALL-SPORTS LIBRARY. II By and by the farmer, unable to get the trunk, when he found the trunk had not been brought. i'But turned his team about and drove back along the road. he lies when he says I threw him down the stairs. He As he did so, Jubal made his appearance, coming didn't come up to the room at all, and he didn't know out of the bushes so suddenly that the spirited horses when I left; for, as I told you, I left through the reared. window." The farmer reined in, in response to Jubal's beckonLee Sheldon did not know of the tramp's invasion ing, and stared at him. of that room; and Farmer Littlefield was charging the "Was yeou there after Lee Sheldon's trunkr' acts of the tramp to Lee. The farmer smiled when Jubal asked that. Jubal took breakfast at Bartlett's, and remained "I was, but I didn't git it. Littlefield's feelin' ruther there with Lee through the forenoon. warm this mornin'. Says that Lee stole his wife s There was a good deal of work to be done, for this pocketbook." was Saturday, and J;..ee wanted to get it all out of the "I don't believe it." way before dinner, that he might have the whole of "Me nuther." the afternoon for the ball game. He looked at Jubal keenly. Once, when both Jubal and Lee were tired, and "Y eou didn't take it? I'm guessin' yeou're the were sitting on a pile of wood which they had been young feller Littlefield was speakin' about; an if so, working up, Jubal thought to make a bold stroke, and yeou must have staid in that room last night." took out the whirling disc. Jubal came up to the wagon. "J'ever see anything like that before?" he ques"Is Lee to yeour haouse ?" he asked. tioned. "Yes, an' he's goin' to stay there." Lee took it and examined it. "Well, I dunno nothin' abaout that pocketbook. "I never did. What is it?" But I'm Lee's friend, and I'm goin' over to his new "Well, it's a queer little machine fer makin' people place to see him, if yeou're willin' ?" go tew sleep. I can make yeou go to sleep in two that was the man's name-expressed minutes by jist whirlin' that before yeour eyes." his willingness, and Jubal climbed over the front wheel "I'll bet you can't." and mounted to the high spring seat beside him. Ju l's face flushed with anticipated triumph. As the wagon rattled away on its return, Jubal told "I'll go ye! Bartlett what he knew of the happenings of the even-He set the disc to spinning, and looked steadily into ing and night. Lee's face, while Lee stared hard at the whirling Bartlett grinned. wheel, just as Jubal told him to. "So the ole man tried to shoot ye, an' she tried to By and by Jubal began to make passes with his scald ye? But what was yeou makin' faces at her hands. The light of victory was in his eyes. fer?" But the wheel spun, and Lee stared, and Jubal made "Jist fer--fer fun," said Jubal, caution coming to passes with his hands, and the effect which Jubal exhim. pected was not produced. Bartlett grinned again. Jubal's liand grew tired at last of holding the disc, "You've found, I reckon, that some people don't and Lee grew weary of staring. appreciate that kind o' fun. Can't say that I would "I guess I've won!" said Lee. myself." Jubal looked at the wheel in disgust. He had had "I'm glad Lee's goin' to stay with you," Jubal rehis great opportunity, and had failed. marked, anxious to shift the subject. "Somethin's the matter with it," he confessed. "But "Littlefield's an old skinflint, an' Lee can stay with I seen a feller do that very trick, and it worked all me so long s he wants to. I told him he could, after right." he'd done that fer my boy. I oughtn't to have resked "Were you trying to hypnotize me?" Lee asked, with Jimmy with one of these horses, but he thought he c'd a smile that made Jubal flush still redder. "If you drive it." were, just remember that it's well-nigh impossible to Lee Sheldon was doing the morning chores at Bartdo it unless the other fellow submits his will to yours. lett's when the wagon arrived with Bartlett and Jubal, If he resists, it's hard to do anything. And then, it's minus the trunk. a thing that not everybody can do, anyway." "Oh, well, let it stay there a few days," said Lee, "I was jist tryin' tew see what I could do," Jubal


ALLSPORTS LIBRARY. admitted, b raz ening the thing through now. "Of c o urse, I didn t l'.eckon I could, but I thought I'd try; it. I jist made this thing yisterday." "Oh, you made it?; "Sure thing "Why. do you need that?" "I dunno why, e x cept that Reel Snodgrass has one. That gimme the idee. And I tho ught I'd jist see if I could do anything in that line, and yeou're the fust one I've had a chanc e tew try on. No harm done, I reckon?'' He laughed nervously. Lee laughed heartily "None whatever." "Do you know anything about hynotin' ?" Jubal asked, with anxious caution. ''Nothing." / "Reel Snodgrass is great at it. He co't me with it onc't.11 "He's on your football team?" "Yes." "Then I'll get to see him this afternoon He must be a wonder," He laughed again. Then he got up from the wood pile and again seized the ax, for more of the wood neeqed to be split before dinner. And Jubal, anxious to make him forget hypnotic experiment, jumped into the work again with him. CHAPTER VI. ON THE WAY TO HIGHLAND. Jubal left Bartlett's shortly after the midday meal, and struck into the road leading to Highland. Lee Sheldon was to come on into Highland later. At the cro s sroads just at the border of the town, as he plodded along, Jubal came on a merry party. He heard them laughing and singing even before he saw them, and he hastened, for he knew who they were. Then they burst upon his sighti-Jack Lightfoot and a number of his friends, in football clothing and sweaters, and Nellie Conner artd Kate Strawn, with some other girls, attired for an outing, and wearing heavy clothing, for the morning air had been cool. Jubal waved his hand, yelled hilariously, and team drawing this party came to a halt. "Hello!" said Jack. "Where've you been?" "Daown to Lee Sheldon's." "Oh, yes, that's the new captain of the Highland eleven. I've heard of him, and you were Q'le about him. Qimb in." "Does he live in the country r asked Nellie. "Yep,'1 said Jubal. "Jist like me. I'm a country yeou know, when I'm to home; and they re the kind fer football players He was climbing in, his mouth spread in a wide grin. "Then I'm afraid Cranford will be defeated this afternoon!" Kate joked. "Welll by granny, if Highland had a httll eleven like him, I'm thinkin' Cranford would ha v e tew hustle." "So you've gone back on us?" said Lafe. "I ain't, nuther; but I'm speakin' the trt\th abaout him," Jubal flung himself into the wagon and down on the hay which filled b ottom o f the bed, "Always room for o ne more,'' remarked Nellie. "I heard yeou singin'. Go on with it. I 've g ot a year fer music." "Oh1 she can t sing that long!" cried Ned Skeen, "Who said fer her tew sing long? She can sing that piece aout, and Fd like tew hear her." Then the wagon rolled on again with Nellie leading in ''' Neath the Shade of the Old Apple _,/ Jubal helped to bell o w the ending of the chorus: I t "With a heart that i s true, I'll be waiting for you'N eath the s h a de of the old apple tree.'' Perhaps these journeyings to and from the different places where the Cranford boys played ball was the most pleasant part of the sport. At any rate, the Cranford young people enjoyed such rides to the full. "Where's Reel?'' asked Jubal, when the song was finished, and before another c o uld be begun. "He went o ver with Delancy, in his auto,'' Skeen answered. "Several Cranford girls went with him. Lily Li v ingston was one. .We're going to have a good crowd there from Cranford this afternoon, for several went by train:." "Lee thinks hi s eleven kin wax us," said Jubal. "He' s just hollering to keep his courage up." "I don t know so much aba out that. I might 'a' thought so yisterday, but I seen 'em practicin' yi s ter day and took a little hand with some a' them myself. I tell yeo u they've got an eleven that ain't tew be sneezed a.t. They're callin' Uee Sheldon the Jack I Ligh t foot of Highland, b'jings. And he's all right fer a lea der and trainer. He's put 'em in purty good shape, lemme tell ye."


ALL-SPORTS LIBRARY. 13 "Hear that, Jack?'' cried J::afe. "They're calling Lee Sheldon the Jack Lightfoot of Highland." Jack laughed. "I hope he'll honor the name." "By granny, he's

14 'ALL-SPORTS LIBRARY. and the comments he made now and th e n t o ld of his enthusiasm. C hee! Football s de game, an don t y o u fergit it!" Over and over Jack heard him say that, and heard him now and then clap his hands together in soft ap plause. Finally he noticed Jack, who stood close by him. "Youse is from Cranford? he a s ked, with a very trampish dialect. "Well, dem fellers is go in' to skin ye-see! I'd be willin' to bet me h o pes of a bed hi a haymow somewheres to-night dat dey lays it all over yo11se." Jack laughed and walked away, and again later saw the tramp keenly watching the practice work. Jack had n o meaJ1s of knowing, of course, that this wa s the fellow who had crawled into that little bed room at Littlefield 's. Jack had heard nothing of that, for Jubal had kn o wn n o thing about it. Nor did Littlefield hims e lf, at the time. In his pocket the tramp carried the purse he had taken from b e hind the clo ck at Littlefield's, with the small amount of money it contained. Jack n o w put his eleven through a little preliminary work just to warm them up and see that they were all right and ready for the foo tball battle. He had great faith in his team, anci believed they could win that day, even though the Highland eleven, as he had discovered, was not likely to be "easy Jack had been persistent and relentless in drill work, and there had already been some big games played in addition to minor ones at home, which Jtlade good practice. The gathering crowd began to grow restless arid im patient, as they showed by their cries for the game to The referee and other officials now came upon the field. Then a cheer rose from the spectators, for they saw that the game was to open. When it died away, a single cheer broke on the air: "Whoop! Hurraw fer Highland! Hoo-raw fer de Philistines!" The cheer anc the words had come from the tramp. "You've got one strong backer," said Jack, speaking to Lee Sheldon. "I heard him," said Sheldon, laughing. "We'll have to claim him, if he hollers for Highland." The captains were standing together. The referee took out a coin. "Heads or tails?'" he asked. "Heads," said Jack. "Tails, then," said Sheldon. The coin was flipped into the air and fell to the ground. 'Tails." Sheldon had won the toss up. The afternoon had warmed, and the wind had shifted to the south. "South goal," said Sheldon, making his choice J This gave the kick-off to Cranfor d. The referee placed the ball in the center of the gridiron. The lines, newly made, gleamed white on the grass, except w here s o me scuffling shoe work in the practice play had blurred them a little. This was the old baseball field and the bleachers and grand stand were filled with people, wrapped in warm cloaks and coats. The football boys had laid aside their sweaters, and were hideous in nose shields and other appliances of the football field. Some of them looked so disguised that their best friends might have been excused for not knowing them. The crowd applauded as Jack stepped into position for the kick-off-a hand so me young fellow in his soiled football clothing, sinuous and athletic, and with strength and muscular alertness visible in every line as he stepped into place. The teams had lined up as follows: CRANFORD Jubal Marlin 1. e. B o b Brew ster, I. t. Brodie Stra wn I. g. Connie L y n c h1 c e nt e r. L afe Lampt o n r. g Saul M esse n ge r, r : t Reel Sno d g r ass, r e Wilson C ra n e q b a ck. J a ck Li g htfo o t, I. h J>hil Kirt land r h Tom Lightfoot f back. HIGHLAND. Perlie Hyatt, 1. e. S o l Russ ell, I. t. Be n Y a te s 1. g Tom J o hnson, center. C a l e Young r. g. Bill Mill e r r t Li n k P orte r r e. Phin Hester, q'back. Kit Carver, 1. h. L e e She ldon, r h. Mat Foster, f'back. It will be seen that Jack had the best team that c o uld be brought out of Cranford. His rush line was particularly strong and heavy. But on the other hand, Lee Sheldon's rush line seemed as strong, to look at the big, lithe fellows who composed it. "A battle for blood to-day!" remarked one of the spectators, his face flushed with anticipation. Then the yell df the tramp broke again on the air:


ALL-SPORTS LIBRARY. 15 "Hooraw fer Highland!" And as if that were a signal, the cheers of the Highland rooters bellowed forth. Punk! Jack's toe struck the pigskin and sent it flying into the wind, straight toward the Highland goal. Lee Sheldon caught it on the ten-yard line and punted it back skillfully into Cranford territory. The fight was on, and the spectators were cheering. Lee had forgotten Jason Littlefield and the things The two lines swayed and trembled. Powerful were the shoulders of Brodie Strawn, Bob Brewster and Connie Lynch. They fairly lifted the opposing line, boring through and tf:tking Jack with them. Jack almost hurdled the line, with the opposing players hanging to him, and Brodie and Bob on each side of him, pushing him on and shoving at the opposition. A second or two later Jack was down, and the whisthat had troubled him so recently:_ tie of the referee was blowing, but he had carried the Phil Kirtland caught the punt on the forty-five yard ball forward seven full yards. line. The Philistine tacklers were close on him-too close for him to punt. So he put his heel down at the spot where he had caught ball on the fly. This entitled his side to a free kick, and the Highland players were not permitted by the rules to come within ten yards of his mark. The Highland backs retired toward their o_wn goal, and others scattered over the field; and when the free kick was made by Kirtland, Lee Sheldon again caught the ball. He punted once more, driving the pigskin end-over end, deep into Cranford territory, being favored by the wind, which sent it sailing. Jack Lightfoot caught it on the twenty-yard line; but the tacklers were right on him, and the ball was down. Here came the first lineup for a scrimmage. Again the yell of the tramp bellowed forth: "Hoo-raw fer Highland!" The teams lined up, the Highland eleven nervously and feverishly watching their opponents, as Wilson Crane called quickly the Cranford signals. Connie Lynch passed the pigskin back with a swift motion, and Wilson swung it to Jack. Jack started with the ball, driving between his own left guard and left tackle, where the rushers were boring a hole for him, the whole movement being made as quick as thought. Lee Sheldon threw himself into his line there. "Hold 'em!" he roared, for he saw that Jack had the ball and was going through there, if possible. There was another quick lineup, while the bellowing yell of the tramp volleyed across the field : "Hoo-raw fer Highland !" He was standing out among the spectators, as close up to the gridiron as he was permitted, and was swing ing his ragged arms in his excitement. Indeed, everyone had yelled as Jack made that seven yard gain through the Highland line. Wilson was calling his signals again. He was a good gerreral, for that small birdlike head held a good deal of brains; and he was as quick as a cat. The signals varied slightly, for the purpose of fool ing the Philistines, who thought an attempt to go through in another place was now in order ; but Jack bucked the line at the same place. "Hold 'em !" yeiled Sheldon, again throwing himself into the opening breach. Highland tried to hold back Brodie and Bob, Connie and Jack. Lafe and those on the right were pushing into the Philistines there. But again Jack went through, literally walking on the fellows who tried to stop him. He broke clear of the line this time, but was unable to gain speed before was tackled and downed by the Highland full-back, who had field himself in re serve for the purpose of tackling the man with the ball if he got through. But there was another gain, of ten yards this time, to Cranford's credit. Nevertheless, the yell of the tramp rang out: "Hoo-raw fer Highland I"


16 ALL-SPORTS LIBRARY. And his ragged aims waved like the wings of a windmill. Again Cranford bucked the line, Phil Kirtland this time taking the ball from Wilson. Lafe Lampton, Saul Messenger and Reel Snodgrass swung against the Highland line like a stone cast from a catapult. They were all powerful fellows, and Phil was wonderfully strong himself. They simply tore the line apart at that point, and made a gain of five yards. The ball was walking down the field toward the Highland goal. "Hold 'em!" screamed Lee Sheldon, as the next scrimmage came. He threw himself and his backs before the Cranford rush line. But he was crushed down. He clung to Lafe Lampton's legs, and the others of the rush line tried to stop Phil. They in downing hill"! at the end of three yards. The referee's whistle blew, and when the tangle of legs, arms and bodies unwound it was found that Ben Yates, Highland's left guard, had his arm wrenched. He got up, groaning, and wanted to go on with the play; but Sheldon took him out and put in a substi tute. At this substitute the next massed play was hurled, carrying him from his feet and bowling the man with the ball into the opposing line. "Through with it!'' yelled Lafe. His powerful shoulders, were like those of a bull. They bored a hole. Saul Messenger, with his pugilistic head down and his humpy, muscular shoulders bunched like a battering ram, was right at Lafe's side. With them was Reel Snodgrass. And Phil Kirtland again had the ball. "Through with it!'' howled Lafe. And the ball went through for five yards more. The Cranford rooters were howling. But still that defiant yell of the tramp roared over the field: "Hoo-raw fer Highland!" Jack now went through the line for five yar .ds; and a minute later went through it for five yards more. Wilson was calling the signals again. Lee Sheldon began to feel desperate. His line was breaking again and again like a rope of sand. Wilson, receiving the ball from Connie, passed it with a quick flirt to Kirtland. Kirtland fumbled it, and then tried to fall ort the ball. He accidentally struck the ball with his toe, as he made the downward dive; and the ball, shooting out from under him, was fallen on by Link Porter, Higp. Iand's right end, toward whom it had gone. The ball was Highland's, on her fifty-yard line. CHAPTER VIII. JACK LIGHTFOOT'S TOUCH-DOWN. Jack Lightfoot expected Highland to drop back for a punt. Instead, Lee Sheldon got the ball, in the scrimmage that followed, and tried to go with it through Jubal Marlin, Cranford's left end. Jubal was hurled down by the impact of the Highland rush line, but he got a good grip of Sheldon's sturdy legs and clung like a leech. Others piled on Sheldon. and he went down, with the ball under him, not having been able to advance it more than a yard. Once more came the quick lineup. This time there was a lightning criss-cross on High land's part, and a feint of passing the ball to Kit Carver, the left half-back. It was so cleverly done that even Jack Lightfoot was fooled. Kit started to go round Cranford's left end, aided by a strong inter erence. He succeeded in tearing past Jubal Marlin; and broke away, also from Bob Brewster; but was tackled and downed by Brodie Strawn, before he had gone five yards beyond the line. So clever was the deception that the referee put the whistle to his lips to signal that the ball was down, and Jack felt that the progress of the ball had been stopped.


ALL-SPORTS LIBRARY He saw Lee Sheldon running, with both hands free. Lee's twinkling le_gs seemed to glide right through Then he caught a view of Sheldon's back, as that Jack's fingers; though, as a matter of fact, Jack did clever fellow cleared the rush line of Cranford. not quite reach tI:tem. There was a suspicious bulge in the back of the light sweater that Lee was wearing. Too late it came to Jack, like a flash, that Lee Shel done had theball. It was there-not in his hands, or hugged to his breast-but under his sweater, which was loose at the back. Later, Jack was to discover that the sweater had a dl'aw string there, prepared for this particular play, and that by a jerk on the draw string the bottom of the sweater could be tightened, holding the ball securely. As Jack made the startling discovery that the man who was down had n\:)t the ball, but that it was in pos session of Lee Sheldon, he started for Lee, trying for a tackle. But Lee was as clever a runner

.. r8 ALL-SPORTS LIBRARY. Wilson Crane, the quarter-back, made' a feint of passing the ball to Phil Kirtland, but gave it to Jack. Kirtland hugged the imaginary ball to his breast and jumped for Highland's left, while the interference was mixed with the Highland rushers. The Highland men were sure Kirtland had the ball. At the same moment that Ki1iland made his dive for th'e left end, Jack Lightfoot jumped for the right. In another form it was the same play which Highland had just used so successfully. Lee Sheldon discovered this, when it was practically too late. He leaped at Jack a tackle;and, missing it, fell to the ground. But this came at Jack. A Highland tackle threw at him from sidewise, and Jack dodged him. Another was in front. Lafe dashed at this one, to push him aside. Jack made a jump that took him over the fellow's head. The entire lines were, apparently, in wild motion and ine x tricably mixed, yet all were now converging to ward Jack. Through the opposition Jack plowed his way. Two other tacklers leaped at him, clutched and hung to him, but he shook himself free. He now started down the field with tremendous leaps, almost the entire Highland eleven trying to reach and tackle him. His position was dangerous. In addition to those runners who were trying to reach him, Mat Foster, the full-back, and Kit Carver, the left half-back, were still in front of him, one on one side of the field and one on the other. They were each running diagonally across the field to head him off before he could cross the goal line. It was a wild race. As he neared the line they closed in on him, forcing him to deviate, and thus lose time, which brought the pursuers right up on him. .flis friends were hurrying to his aid. But he seemed now to be in the midst of the Highland mob. Then he dived by a runner, and sprang forward, just as the side tacklers leaped fpr him. Jack was dead game. He was not down; and he still had the ball. The line was right before him, and he intended to cross it and make a That was the one and only thought in his mind. And he made the effort. It was a successful effort, for he broke through. As Jack, hugging the pigskin to his breast, cleared the scrambling mob, he literally dragged a couple of the Philistines along over the line .. But he got the ball down-made his touch-down, and that counted five, if no more could be added to it. The Cranford enthusiasts were now fairly screaming the.ir joy. "Kick it over!" Jack panted, to Phil Kirtland. The ball was brought out, and Lafe Lampton placed it for Phil. Jack dropped to the ground. He had spent his whole strength in that terrific feat. The wind was against Phil; and Jack, lying on the ground, literally panting for breath, watched him with some anxiety. Punk! The toe of Phil's shoe lifted the half. It shot toward the goal posts. The wind caught it and began to veer it. friends had a moment of breathless suspense, foi; they feared the effort was to fail. But-the ball moved on, in spite of the wind, for the propulsion given it by Phil had been strong; and it shot between the posts and over the bar. Cranford had six. "A tie!" was roared. And again the tramp bellowed : "Hoo-raw fer Highland!" The whistle announced the close of the first half of the game. CHAPTER IX. WEARY WATSON TO THE FRONT. Two of Highland's best players had been knocked out in the attempt to keep Jack Lightfoot from making that touch-down.


ALL-SPORTS LIBRARY. 19 Cale Young, their heavy right guard, had been thrown in trying to make a tackle, and had so jammed his shoulder that he was practically out of the game. And Bill Miller, the right tackle, had twisted his ankle in trying to turn quickly to cut Jack off. Already Lee Sheldon had one substitute in, in place of Ben Yates, the left guard. This so weakened the Highland rush line that, in view of the fact that Highland had shown herself already unable to hold Cranford when bucking the line, it gave Lee Sheldon a fit of the dumps. He was lying on the ground, feeling rather blue. He had made a great fight himself, and had pretty well exhausted his strength, and that of itself will give one a pair of blue spectacles even when everything looks favorable. The intervai between the halfs was being utilized by the tired and blown players to rest. It was at this time that the tramp, making his way along the edge of the gridiron, crossed into it and spoke to Sheldon, bending over as if whispering to him. The action attracted attention, and Jack, among others, saw it. "Weary Willie is trying' to encourage the Highland <:aptain," said Tom, who 1ay on the grass near Jack. "It looks so." "He's been yelling for them for all he was worth." Jack la4ghed. "And he's certainly got good lungs." They saw Lee Sheldon sit up and gi"\l'e the tramp a sharp look, and then begin to talk to him earnestly. The tramp dropped down on the grass by his side to continue the conversation. "I wonder what Weary is up to?" grunted Lafe. They were soon to know, for Lee Sheldon arose from the grass, with the tramp, and both came in Jack's di rection. Jack saw that Lee wanted to speak to him, and he got on his feet. "Lightfoot," said Lee, lifting his cap and revealing the rim of perspiration that still clung to his damp forehead,. "I want to introduce this fellow to you." Jack glanced sharply at the tramp, who met his sur prised look with a wide grin. "He calls himself Weary Watson, but says that isn t his name, of course; yet he claims that he used to live in Highland, and something he has t,old me makes me believe him and believe that he can play football. I was just thinking, as I lay there, that, as I haven't any further substitutes who are worth anything, I might as well throw up the sponge and tell you to take the game. But if you're w!l.ling for me to play this man as one of my guards I'll go on with the thing." He looked anxiously at Jack. / The proposition was so strange that Jack hardly knew what to say at first. "The thing is a tie now-six to six-and no one can tell what will happen in the next half," he objected. "But in that last run I lost two of my best Cale Young and Bill Miller. Your fellows will simply rip up my line now, unless I can find some way to strengthen it. So, having had a talk with this man, I'm willing to put him in, if you're willing that I may. If he doesn't turn out as good as he thinks he is, it's my loss. Anyway, I'm at the end of my row." He looked as if he hardly expected that Jack would allow him to put in the tramp as a guard. "You want to quit the game?" Jack asked. "Well," said Sheldon, doggedly, "what's the use of us going ahead? If some of my men hadn't been knocked out that last time I'd have good strong hopes, but as it is--" He waved his hand with an air of hopeless disgust. As already stated, Jack had come to admire Lee Sheldon. He saw that Lee was honest. "I haven't any particular right to put him in, though he s ays he once lived in Highland," Lee went on. "But I can do it, of course, if you make no objection. I'd like to try him." The tramp stood with his ragged hat in his hand, grmnmg. "Chee! if you'll let me go into

20 ALL-SPORTS LIBRARY. about him, stating to them the singular proposition of Lee Sheldon. Little Nat Kimball was in the crowd that collected round f ack, being one of the substitutes. He looked at the tramp, sniffed, and drew out his 'handkerchief as if to wipe away any possible germs that might float to him from the tramp. "Why, he isn't clean!" he objected. "You little rat," said Skeen, "you're not going to be in the play, anyway; so he 1J1on't touch you." "I'm going to be in it as much as you are; and they may want me for a substitute. So, I object to playing I with a thing like that." "We can win the game," said Jack. "Lee is dis couraged and will weaken, if we don't agree to that." "Let him weaken!" said Saul Messenger, with a I scowl. "That's the better for us. We came over here him into the clothes of one of the retired men," Jack explained. The tramp had edged nearer, and overheard this, and he shot at Phil an unpleasant look. But when Jack carried the news to Lee Sheldon, and Lee communicated it to the tramp, the latter seemed to have taken heed of what he had heard; for, after he had disappeared in a dressing room for the shift into the football clothing which Lee furnished him, and then came out again, he came out a new man. His long hair and stubby beard still showed, but he seemed to have made vigorous applications of soap and water, so much so that his face now fairly shone-it was a sunburned red-ancl the football clothing sup plied to him, showed him to be," what he was, a mus cular young fellow, lithe and strong, -alert and sinuous. He did not seem to be the same man who had gone to win, didn't we?" "That's what I say," cried Brodie. sponsible if his men get knocked out?" into that dressing room. Yet he was still comical Are we re-looking, for he was much too large for the clothing he had put on. "I rather think we are," said Tom, with a smile. "Our side knocked them out." "But it's in tht game," objected Saul. "If they're weakened so much the better for our side." "I shan't dedde thi:o matter at all," said Jack, "but will put it t0 a vote. All of you who are willing to abstain from making ob_jection to the tramp say 'Ay !' Those opposed 'No I'" To his surprise--to his great surprise-the, 'Ayes' had it. "Give Sheldon whatever he wants," said Bob Brew ster, generously, explaining his vote; "we can beat 'em anyway, easily." "Surely!" said Lafe, fishing up a peanut. "We could beat 'em, if they should put in a whole new rush line." "It may make the thing livelier," said Connie, "and fun is what I'm afther, nixt to winnin' the game." "By granny," cried Jubal, "that's jist what I was thinkin', an' that's why I voted fer it. A tramp playin' football will be somethin' new." "But I wish he'd wa.sh his face and comb his hair, and get into some other clothes," objecled Kirtland. "Ob, I forgot to mention that Lee said he'd put Jack stared and Tom laughed when they beheld him. "A trick on us, by gravy, that is!" grumbled Jubal. "That feller ain't no tramp, and never has been, nuther. Lee's fooled us, and has got a reg'lar perfessional foot ball player on his rush line, 1b'jings, an' I'm bettin' a dollar on it !" All the other fellows were staring. Even little Nat Kimball was sure he would not be afraid of contracting germs now, if he should by any chance run against the fellow who had given the name of Weary Watson. "We might have known he wasn't a regular tramp, by the name he gave," said Brodie, scowling blackly again. "Would a regular tramp call himself Weary anything? I don't think it." "Yet it's too late to back out now," Jack responded. "You fellows voted to let Lee Sheldon put him on the Highland rush line." "I didn't," said Brodie, grimly. "I never vote to let anything that is in opposition to me have a chance to strengthen itself. \Vhen you get the opposition down, hold 'em down. That's my belief. And that's the way to win football games." Af\d Jack felt that in this Brodie was right. Cran ford had weakened the Highland rush linei and So had


ALL-SPORTS LIBRARY. .2! paved the way to the sure winning of the game. Then, why should they let Highland strengthen its line in this way? But the thing had been done. "I guess we're easy!" Jack remarked, in an aside to Tom. CHAPTER X. JASON LITTLEFIELD .MAKES A TACKLE. There had been a change of goals, Cranford now having that on the south for the second half of the game, and being thus favored by the wind, Lee Sheldon kicked off for Highland, making a great kick that drove the ball down to Cranford's ten yard line. Tom Lightfoot caught'it and sent it back into Highland territory, to the forty-five-yard line. Lee Sheldon fell on the ball here, and this was fol lowed by a swift lineup. When the two lines faced each other, with Weary Watson in the position of right guard, it was seen how much larger and taller he was than any player on the Cranford line. He was taller than \Vilson Crane, and he weighed even more than Lafe Lampton by a good fifty pounds. There was a wide grin of pleasure on his hairy face. "Wow!" he squalled. "Now we git into it !1 He humped his shoulders and crouched )ow for the jump at the Cranford line as soon as the ball was in motion. He was crouching just in front of Brodie Strawn, the Cranford left guard, and he was prepared to leap at Brodie. The ball went back, and the Philistines smashed at Cranford. There was a moment of tense straining, a swaying and reeling, as the lines heaved to ant'l fro. Then the man with the ball went down, with several on top of him. Weary alone had broken a line, pushing f3rodie back with a strength that seemed irresistible. "See here I" Brodie shouted, looking at him fiercely, when they had straightened up, "I think you used your hands to strike me then." The tramp grinned a wide and amiable smile. "Nit! Dat was my head. It's as hard as de heart of a farmer when you're at his back door axin' him fer pie." "Don't do it again!" Brodie ordered, angrily. "Nit---.I won't. But recklect dat I'm goin' t'rough you like a hungry man t'rough a picnic dinner-see? I'm ready fer youse !" Again Highland smashed against the Cranford line like a sea wave beating against a ledge. Again that swaying and heaving followed; then Brodie went down, on his back, and Lee Sheldon, with the ball, went through the hole which the tramp and those with him had made in Cranford's rush line. Lee found himself opposed by Jubal Marlin, who tried to cut him off and make a tackle Sheldon st'un round, to dive away from Jubal, and in the movement slipped and let the ball shoot out of his hands. 1 The Cranford boys were bearing down on Sheldon, with the Highland Philistines trying to hold them back. But Jubal had the ball, and dod_ging round the end he ran like a fire in dry grass, heading for the High land goal line. Mat Foster, however, was in front, and he came at Jubal, pitching himself forward and making a beautiful tackle, and Jubal went down, with the ball under him. All the spectators were cheering, and some crying ottt "Tackle!" At the same instant old Jason Littlefield rushed upon field. He had seen Jubal running like the wind and dodging, and he, too, had started...in pursuit of that lively young Yankee. He the people yell "tackle" even before Foster threw himself at Jubal's twinkling legs. "I snum, I'll tackle him!" he howled; and then, as Jubal went down, falling prostrate, with Fostei; hang ing to his legs, the old farmer threw himself catching Jubal round the shoulders. He bumped Jubal's head against the ground and camped down right on top of him. "Dod gast ye, I've gDt ye!" he squalled. "Run with my pocketbook, will ye? And sneak down into my kitchen and git a pie and eat it, will ye? Oh, I've got ye, and ye needn't wiggle!"


22 ALL-SPORTS LIBRARY. Jubal struggled to get on his feet, clinging to the ball. The other players rushed up. Brodie Strawn, catching Littlefield roughly by the collar jerked hini from Jubal, and the old man, spin ning round, fell sprawling. When he got on his feet he was white with rage. "I snum," he howled, "to oe treated this way by a lot o' lazy feetball players! By jacks, I ain't goin' to stand it t" He began to peel off his long-tailed coat. Lee Sheldon had dnlwn back, his face flushed with something more than the violent exercise. "What are you doing here?'' Jack of Lit tlefield. Jubal got up, sputtering, but still clinging to the ball. "He stole my wife's pockitbook !" fmed Littlefield, shaking his finger at Jubal. "I didn't, nuther !" Jubal shouted, indignantly. "Wa'n't you at my haouse last night an' this mornin'?'' "But I never seen yeou're got-darned old pocket book." "I been lookin' fer him," said Littlefield, thinking now that perhaps an explanation was due, "and now that I've got him he's goin' with me straight to jail, er fork over that pockitbook." "Ask him to cough up the pie, too!" said Brodie, with grim humor. "He's swallered the pie, drat him; but he's got the an' I want it." "I ain't, nuther !" protested Jubal, sturdily. The spectators were roaring. They understood bit of comedy to a certain extent, and they were simply bursting with laughter. Most of them knew Little field for an old skinflint. Now the referee and the other officials came up, with some police officers. "Get out of here!" said the referee to Littlefield. "This game's got to go on." "I'm goin' to have that pockitb'ook !" Littlefield sput tered. "Y.ou can settle that after the game's over. Players, get to your places 1 Then the other officials and the police hustled the indignant farmer off the gridiron; but he went fuming, declaring that he'd have the "pockitbook" or he'd have the life of the thief that took it. Weary Watson heard and saw all this with a queer smile. The pocketbook was in a pocket of the cloth ing he had on. CHAPTER XI. WILSON CRANE'S GREAT TACKLE. The game was on again, with Jason Littlefield now but one of the spectators. Jubal had been tackled and downed on Highland's twenty-five-yard line, and there the lineup came Cranford had the ball, and bucked the line. Jack, with the ball, broke through the hole made in the left guard of Highland. He dodged Sol Russell, the left tackle. Jubal swung in from the left end and ran at Jack's side. But Lee Sheldon was there, and the ball went down; but not until Jack advanced it to the fifteen-yard Hne. Cranford tried now to take it through again, but made the mistake of striking the right tackle of Highland for the advance. The tramp was the right guard, and his powerful weight and strength held the line there like a stone wall. "Nit!" he yelled, as he held the line. Again Cranford tried to break through, swinging toward the other end. But the tramp hurdled over Brodie, and with a flying leap, in which he spread him self out like a flying squirrel, he came at Jack, just as Jack had eared the line, and brought him down with as neat a tackle as had been seen on that field. Cranford, in two attempts, had advanced the ball but three yards. Jack dropped back for a quick kick, and tried to drive the ball across the Highland goal line; but, with a great leap, the tramp Vl[ent into the air, much as if he had been shot up by steel springs, and he stopped the ball there, falling on it instantly. "By granny, he's a professional," said Jubal, "and I knowed he was!"


/ ALL-SPORTS LIBRARY. 23 Highland began to buck Cranford's line now, the ball going to the right half-back, who jumped to the side of the tramp; and the latter, with the heavy center by his side, plowed a hole through the line, carrying the half-back throttgh with the ball. This was so good that the Highland quarter-back again sent the half-back with the ball into that same hole. f Jack threw his sfrepgth and weight into the opposi tion; and with Brodie the others tried to hokl the tramp. It was like trying to hold a steam engine. His powerful shoulders flung them aside, and again the ball went throu&"h. This time the half-back cleared the line and started for a run. The tramp was by his side, shouldering the opposi tion out of the way. They passed Bob Brwster and Jubal Marlin, hurling them aside. Jack Lightfoot swung into the pursuit, with Wilson Crane right behind him. Both Jack and Wilson could run as fast as the tramp, and faster than the half back who had the ball. Jack gained on the half-back, and "While the tramp was elbowing a wopld-be out of the way, Jack pitched himself forward. The half-back, in breaking through the line, had bagged down the top of his right stocking. Jack's out stretched fingers caught in that bagging top, and the _half-back came to the ground like a falling tree. Yet he had, with the tramp's aid, made a magnificent burst, and had gained twenty yards. In the next the ball, while seeming to be sent to the half-back, was lodged in the hands of the tramp, who had leaped back as if to get out of Brodie's way. Then he smashed Brodie and Bob Brewster, and cleared the line like a jumper going over a hurdle. Before half the Cranford boys knew that the half back was not in possession of the ball, Weary Watson was flying with it toward Cranford's goal posts. They were more than seventy-five yards away, yet he had cleared the field and seemed to have straight sailing before him. But as1he thus shot away Wilson Crane rose out of the ruck and wild mix-up, and stretching out his long neck set his long legs in motion. l Wnen Wilson ran at his best, and he began to do that right from the jump, his slim legs moved like th. e speeding legs of a running ostrich 1 A wild and excited yell rose from the Cranfory. It was worth traveling from Cranford to Highland just to hear them. Wilson ha d made one of the greatest tackles ever seen in any play in the Four-Town League. The Cranford spectators were howling with joy; and from all round the gridiron there came a wild roar of applause, for even in games played by the crack teams of the country a more tackle is seldom The Highland eleven was filled with a mad enthu siasm.


24 ALL-SPORTS LIBRARY. In the past, Jack Lightfoot had had much trouble with Wilson Crane, who was sometimes reckless and rebellious. Yet Jack had always appreciated the good points in Wilson, and could admire a fine play, no matter who made it. So now, while that thrill of pride and exultation swept like a wave over the gridiron and everybody was Jack threw his arms round Wilson's lanky shoulders. "That was great-great!" he cried, patting "Wilson affectionately. proud of you to-day!" And in that moment, while his owri heart was swell ing with the full tide of victory, Wilson was able to forgive Jack for all the wrongs, fancied or otherwise, which he held against him. "Wilson, you're all right!" sctid Lafe. "If I didn't know you'd refuse it, I'd offer you an app1e as a re ward. I couldn't have done better myself." He laughed, showing his white teeth, while his sky blue eyes were dancing with delight. \ Weary Watson had picked himself up. At first he was frowning; then his hairy face widened in a smile, as he looked about. givin' me de glad hand?" he asked, jocu larly. "Didn't I run about as fast as he did? Den why don't you t'row some o' dem bouquets dis way, an' weep on me shoulder ?" There was no further time for "bouquets" for any one. Time was flying, and the game must g0 on. Weary Watson had the ball, on Cranford's five-yard line. Lee Sheldon believed they could drive it through Cranford for a touch-down, and it seemed a safe con clusion now, with so powerful a man as Weary on the rush line of the Philistines. So the Philistines bucked the line. "Hold 'em !" Jack screamed in desperation, and he used his own strength to back up the swaying and shiv ering line, which reeled like a fence struck by a high wind, when the Philistines came against it. Weary had the ball; but Jack pulled him down, as he went over the head of Bob Brewster. The gain was but a yard. Again Highland bucked the line; and agam, filled with such wild desperation that their strength seemed increased tenfold, the Cranford boys held them. The gain had been two yards. Lee Sheldon seemed for a moment undecided. He had believed that the tramp could go through the I Cranford line, and it seemed safe to try for the two yards which alone remained between them and the goal line. The goal posts rose almost over their head. Yet-he knew it might be wiser to drop back for a kick. There was no time for hesitation. He chose to try to make the two by bucking the line, giving the ball to Weary Watson. Watson struck the line like a charging mad bull. But Jack knew now that the ball would go to Watson; and he and Tom and Phil Kirtland were right at the point where Watson tried to climb and plow through. "Trough wit' it!" yelled Watson. "Hold 'em!" Jack fairly screamed. The contending players to rise into the .air, as they swayed against each other. "Trough wit' it! yelled Watson, with his shoul ders down and the ball hugged to his breast. But he went down, in spite of his herculean attempt, and the Cranford boys were piling on him. The ball was down, right under the shadow of the goal posts, and it was now Cranford's ball. Lee Sheldon had made his choice and his attempt, and had failed. It is always easier afterwar

ALL-SPORTS LIBRARY. Jack jumped toward Weary Watson, as if trying to go through there, or through right tackle; while Kirt land jumped toward the left end of the Philistines. Kirtland broke through the left end, with strong interference, and, clearing the mob, started down the field. \ Weary held Jack and the other Cranford players who threw themselves at him; while the right end of the Philistines swung in, with the Philistine full-back, and come down on Phil. The full-back made a jumping tackle, and Phil went down, with the ball under him. But he had gained nearly fifteen yards in that sharp run. The ball was well away from the danger section now; and, being in Cranford's possession, they felt they could keep it away. Again they bucked the line, and Phil again took the ball through, finding that same hole, for five yards more. CHAPTER XII. LITTLEFIELD BUTTS IN AGAIN. Another member of tha Philistine rush line had been knocked out and lay on the ground groaning. The referee gave time for putting in a substitute. Lee Sheldon signaled to one of his waiting men. At this juncture, while this little wait was being allowed, and Weary Watson was taking advantage of it to stretch himself for a moment on the grass, Farmer Littlefield, who had been struggling in the hands pf some men who were trying to keep him off the gridiron, broke away from them and came running toward the tired players. He rushed up to Weary Watson, and lifted him in the side with his heavy boot. "What d'ye say to this?" he demanded. "Here's that pockitbook with the money in it!" Weary pulled his cap down over his eyes and wrin kled his face in a wide grin, he turned to the irate farmer. "Keep them mud scows off'n me!" he urged. "What was it youse was chirpin' ?" "Here's that pockitbook; with the money in it!" Weary looked a bit surprised, bl,lt contrived ratlier well to hide it. "Say, yer in luck! Goin' ter give dat to me? T'anks !" He held out his hand for it. Littlefield jerked the pocketbook away. "Gol-darn ye, can t you understand nothin'? No, I ain't goin' to give it to ye! But explain haow you got it?" The tramp sat up. All the players were now staring. The men who had been holding Littlefield were walking out upon the gridiron as if for the purpose of taking him out again. He waved them away. "Naw, I ain't goin' !" he shouted. thin' more important than feetball." He faced Weary Watson. "This is some"When you fell a while ago, with that other feller hangin' to ye.......-4:hat long, lean feller, ye know !-you dropped this pockitbook. Naow, haow in thunder did you come to have it? That's what\ want explained." Weary seemed to become more interested. "Chee!" he cried. "If it fell out of my pocket den it's mine, ain't it? Hand it over 'ere." "Nary time. You don't git it. But I want it ex plained. How'd you come by it? Which one of them fellers give it to you?" He pointed to Jubal and Lee Sheldon. "One o' them fellers stole it aout of my house, b'jings An' which one was it? If you don't answer I'll have all three o' ye up afore the jedge, by hoky, and send the hull caboodle to jail. I snum, I ain't go in'_.__" "Well, you are going !" One of the men caught him by the shoulders and began to jerk him along out of the gridiron. "But I want this thing explained !" he howled. "Here's that pockitbook, and--" But the substitute was in position, time had expired, ,, and the game must go on. The ball was in possession of Cranford, and down on her twentY.:-y:ard line.


ALL-SPORTS LIBRARY. The teams lined up, with the Philistines feverishly and nervously watching their adversaries. The pigskin was passed back by Connie, with a swift motion. Wilson had called no signals. He made a pass, as if swinging the ball to Jack, and Jack pretended to run with it, putting his. head down and huggh1g the imaginary ball to his breast, while he dived for the right end of the Philistines' line. At the same moment Wilson ran his five yards to the right, and then plowed into the hole made there ning with him for interference, he started at a great clip for the Highland goal line, a long distance away. Weary Watson rose out of the ruck of players, shak ing the Cranford men loose, and started in wild pursuit. Two Cranford players opposed him, and they went over before his rush like pins struck down in a bowling alley. Weary Watson tore on across the gridiron, with other Philistine runners closing in with him. Jack had very little start, and it was seen that Watson would crowd him hard. by those Cranford heavy men-:Lafe Lampton and The spectators rose in their seats, and all round the Saul Messenger. gridiron there was a swinging of hats and caps, and Saul was not so heavy as Lafe, but he had a certain wild yelling. fierce determination about him that made him a great man on the rush line; and with him and -Lafe was Reel Snodgrass, who was plqying now for Cran ford as if he had never had a thought of evil against any Cranford boy. Reel had wanted to play football, and he was trying hard to fill his place to the satisfaction of all the other players. Wilson went thfough this hole, being fairly hurled and through it, while Jack was making that feint of trying to go through the Philistines' right. Wilson cleared the line. But again the Philistine full-back and left half-back had held back, and they came at Wilson for a tackle. He tried to dodge them, leaping like a but as he made his leap the full-back caught him by the ankle, and Wilson came down heavily, having ad vanced the ball but five yards. Yet the gain had been somethin g. In the next quick lineuir--all working feverishly and hurriedly, for they knew that time was flying-the ball went to J aak. The race for goal was on, and it hot. Seeing himself becoming short-winded, Lafe Lamp ton threw himself in Watson's way, to stop him. Watson went over him, like a leaper taking hurdles. But it" broke y,ratson's high speed; and before he could gather himself again Jack had gained perceptibly. Again Watson rushed on, running even more rap idly, it seemed, than when he was pursued by Wilson Crane. But, next to Wilson, Jack was the best runner in Cranford. He drew away from both Phil and Reel, and was soon running alone. These two now opposed Watson. He threw them aside, and dashed on after Jack. But Jack was now gaining on him. \tVatson was not the runner Wilson was, though was marvel ously fast; and, therefore, he could not come up with Jack for a tackle; and Jack, after a wonderful burst of speed, crossed the goal line for a touch-down. The whistle blew. The time was up. It was a close call. Again those powerful fellows-Lafe Lampton and There was not even time left to make the kick for Saul Messenger, aided by Reel Snodgrass-tore a hole goal. in the Philistine line. They were hammering the weak spot in the line made by putting in the new substitute, who was an inferior player. Jack broke through the line, hurdling it, and with Reel Snodgrass, Lafe Lampton and Phil Kirtland run-But Cranford had won the game. The score was-Cranford, eleven ; Highland, six. Highland, aided by the tramp, had played a great game of football that day, and Cranford had won by the narrowest margin. Weary Watson stretched himself to his full height!


ALL-SPORTS LIBRARY. just after the whistle sounded, and, lifting his right "Why, pop," Weary yell<':t;l, "don't ye know yer pore hand, swung his cap his head, while his wide J little wanderin' boy?" mouth expanded in an ear-splitting yell : Then he caught the old man up, lifting him from "Y ee-ee-ow Hoo-raw fer Highland!" Highland had been a hard nut to crack t;hat day. CHAPTER XIII. WEARY WATSON REVEALS HIMSELF. Again Jason Littlefield came running on the field, with no one now to stop his advance. He came rushing up to the tramp, waving the pocket book. "What about this 'ere pockitbook ?" he was screech ing. "I ain't had that explained yit, an' I want to know abaout it." The tramp turned to him, with a wide smile wrin kling his hairy face. "Wot's

ALL-SPORTS LIBRARY. HOW TO DO THING5 By AN OLD ATHLETE. r Timely essays and hints upon various athletic sports and pastimes, in which our boys are usually deeply interested, and told in a way that may be easily understood. Instructive articles may be found in back numbers of the ALL-SPORTS LIBRARY, as follows: No. 14, "How to Be come a Batter." No. 15, "The Science of Place Hitting and Bunting." No. 16, "How to CoverFirstBase." No. 17, "Playing Shortstop." No.18, "Pitching." No. 19, "Pitching Curves." No. 20, "The Pitcher's Team Work." No. 21, "Playing Second Base No. 22, "Covering Third Base." No. 23, "Playing the Outfield." No. 24, "How to Catch." CJ.) No. 25, "How to Catch." (II.) No. 26, "How to Run Bases." No. 27, "Coaching and the Coach." No. 28, "How to Umpire." No. 29, "How to Manage Players." No. 30, "Baseball Points." No. 31, "How to Make a Cheap Skiff." No. 32, "Archery." No. 33, "Cross-Country Running.'' No. 34, "The Game of Lacrosse." No. 35, "The Boy With a Hobby for Collecting.'' No. 36, "Football, and How to Play It.'' No. 37, "A Practice Game." No. 38, "How to Play Football-Training.'' No. 39, "The Men in the Line." No. 40, "The Men Behind.'' SIGNAL SYSTEMS. The closing paragraphs of our talk last week touched briefly on signals and their importance. How important these are there is no need' of telling boys who have probaoly been j'ltaying the game the last eight or ten weeks ; but since the season is not much more than half over, some further consideration of the various signal systems will be of a good deal of help to you. As has been stated frequently before, these talks find place in ALL-SPORTS, not to tell you how to play foot ball, but to give suggestions to boys who already know something of this fascinating game by actual playing and want to improve themselves. Such boys will wel come new ideas on any point in playing, and the follow ing suggestions in regard to signals will certainly help in rounding out the team for those final contests for I school, town or country championships. Signal systems are composed of either letters or num bers, or both. These letters, or numbers, usually indi cate players and the intervals between the men on the line, but sometimes indicate plays also. Many teams are taking up the latter system this year, owing to its extreme simplicity. Combination plays are restricted in number and it is quite possible to comprehend every play that can be made in the game in a few numbers or a few letters. The system, however, many obvious disadvantages ; it is one of the easiest in the world to tumble to, for one thing, unless a constantly shifting key is used, and a constantly shifting key may at any time bring about a condition of things where every man will be wondering what he is at. For another reason, this system is not one to be adopted without having its usefulness proved by hard experience. Let us say that C indicates full-back and that E indicates the interval in the line between guard and tackle on the same side of center. When this sig nal is given C learns that he is to run with the ball, and E tells him that he is to go throu.gh the line between guard and tackle. Guard and tackle hear the half-back called on to take the ball, and the next letter te1ls them that they must get busy. From personal experience, the believes that this double warning starts men into quicker action than the other system, wherebi the letter E would indicate that the half-back was to 5uck through at the same point. It can happen that the signal system 1 is not understood and that the half may rush for the opening which has not been properly made for him. Whereas, if the men on either side of that interval hear themselves called on for work they are not likely to waste any time guessing. Of course this reasoning may seem somewhat foolish to some of you, the possibility of confusion being slight; but the whole question is one of how the tired man's mind Some of us congratulate ourselves on be ing able to wake up at any time in the morning by merely repeating to ourselves as we drop off to sleep the hour at which we wish to wake up. I prefer an alarm clock; it's not so apt to fail. It's the same way with A perfectly drilled team may pull through all right on the play-signal system, but general experi ence goes to prove that the man-signal system works better. It's like an alarm clock. It wakes the right men up. Let us illustrate this by further consideration of signal systems, taking first a number system. In this case every man on the team, and every interval in the line, has its number. On a sheet bf paper put down a number of marks to indicate the position of the players of a team having the ball just before the ball is put into play. No. 'I: will be full-back; No. 2 will be left half; No. 3 will be right half; No. 4 will be quarter; No. 5 will be left end; 6, left tackle; 7, left guard; center has no number; 8, 9 and IO will be, respectively, right guard, right tackle and right end. The spaces are numbered in the opposite direction. No. I will indicate around the right end; 2, between right end and right tackle ; 3, between right tackle and guard ; 4, between right guard and center ; 5, between center and left guard; 6, between left guard and left tackle; 7, between left tackle and left end, and 8, around left end. Suppose the play is to send right half around left end. quarter gives his signal somewhat in this style: "Four hundred, ninety-nine thirty-eight, eighty-six--" The key number is the third; the first part indicates the player-right half-back; the second where he is to go, eight around left end. A letter system may be selected as follows : The words "HUSTLING BAKE" are selected because there are no dup,lkates. H signifies around left end; U, between left end and left tackle; S, between left tackle and left guard; T, between left guard and center; L, between center and right guard ; I, between right guard and rigHt tackle; N, between right tackle and right end; G, about right end. B indicates the full-back ; A, the left half; K, the right half and E, the quarter. The signals are an nounced the same way, as in the case of numbers: "Oj, qv, kh, in--" The third combination is again the key, first letter the player, the second the place of play. The play-signal system is described by one of its cham pions, Fielding H. Yost, of Michigan, in his "Football," as follows: "Number the first play 'five,' the next 'six' and so on. For example, let 'five' and 'six' represent the play that will send the respective half-backs straight into the line from their regular positions. All even numbers will call for plays that go to the left of center, while all the odd numbers call for an attack on the right. The reverse, of course, is just as effective. Then continue to number the plays as follows: 'Seven,' full-back Mick on the right of center; 'eight,' full-back to the left of center, and so on, to include all the varieties of attack that the team may learn through the season. The fol-( Conti1med on page JO.)


A CHAT WITH YOU Under this general head we purpose each week to sit around the camp fire, and have a heart-to-heart talk with those of our young readers who care to gather there, answering such letters as may reach us asking for information with regard to various healthy sports, both indoor and out. We should also be glad to hear what you think of the leading characters in your favorite publication. It is the editor's desire to make this department one that will be eagerly read from week to week by every admirer of the Jack Lightfoot stories, and prove to be of valuable assist ance in building up manly, healthy Sons of America All letters received will be answered immediately, but may not appear in print under five weeks, owing to the fact that the publication must go to press far in advance of the date of issue. Those who favor us with correspondence will please bear this in mind, and exercise a little patience. THE EDITOR. Here are my measurements. Please tell me if I am of a build to make an athlete. Of cour se I know it might be neces sary for me to go through a course of manual training in order to harden my muscles and be able to do the many clever stunts athletes accomplish; but I want to make sure the foundation is all right before I begin to build. I am 16 years old and measure s feet 7 inches in my bare feet. My weight is 133 pounds, though it varies some according to the season, and I have gone as high as 141 in early spring. I suppose the fact of my going in so for rowing and various other vigorous sports pulls me down some during the warm months; but I don't care ;ibout that, as I seem to be as tough as nails through it all. Around the chest the tape shows 37 inches, normal. Hips are 35 inches; waist, 36 inches; thigh, 20 inches, and around the calf of leg, 14 inches. Hoping to see an answer to this in an early number, and thanking you for the same, I remain, yours truly, New York City. KARL FLETCHER. Yes, you are just about it, Karl. We fail to see where you can have any complaint coming. Indeed, you are so close to the general average for a young athlete of your height that it would b e folly for us to offer any advice. Continue to do as you are doing and all must be well. And we venture the prediction that you are not the lad to risk losing the sound health you now enjoy by allowing a taste for liquor or tobacco to overcome your principles. Will you please tell the author of the Lightfoot stones that the boys out here are simply dead stuck on his breezy style? I claim some credit for it, because it was through me they got to first reading ALL-SPORTS. I had a copy sent to me by my Cousin Joe in St. Louis, and I liked it so well I had our agent send for some. He tells me he has increased his order three times. How is that for high? And more than that, when I'm through with a copy I mail it to some fellow I know further West. I jus t reckon it's a welcome visitor on the cattle ranges, and I can shut my eyes and see the fellows sitting around the grub wagon of an evening, tired to death with riding all day, but head over ears interested in the doings of Jack Lightfoot and his pards. I shouldn't wonder but that more than a few of the cow men have donated scrip to your cash department for back numbers. That was what I did, all right. Those stories are hustlers, and they've got all others beat to a finish. But I'll pull leather right here, and rope myself before I land in that wastebasket. So long, Mr. Editor. Don't forget to give my best to the writer. "HUCKLEBERRY FINN." Wichita, Kan. You are certainly a breezy customer, and a hustler from the word "Go." If we had an honor roll, your name, if you cared to give it, would head the list. Here's hoping your cowboy friends may long enjoy the breezy tales concerning the fortunes of Jack Lightfoot, and that they may profit by the example of good American grit and honest dealing he sets them. Jack and the rest seem so natural to me that, do you know, I'm tempted to ask you whether there's really any chance of their coming down this way during the winter? I'd like to meet the whole bunch first rate, and if they landed here, I promi se you the club I belong to, and which, by the way, is called the All-Sports Club, would entertain them royally. Do please in duce them to wander this way if they visit Dixie land. Atlanta, Ga. GEORGE ALTROSS. If the Cranford boys go South and happen to land in Atlanta during their trip, you will surely hear of it. They certainly must appreciate your kind intentions, and would send thanks. You evidently read the Lightfoot stories in the only way whereby the utmost enjoyment can be gotten from anything, by giving your whole heart and soul to the pursuit of the hour. And doubtless you believe in the old, tried and true maxim, that if it's worth while doing a thing at all it's worth while doing it well. I cannot wait any longer to express my op1mon in regard to ALL-SPORTS. That fine weekly is IT. I have read all the numbers from I to the present issue, and I intend to read all that will be published in the future. Mr. Stevens is a "cracker jack," and seems to know just what boys like and how to tell it in a manner that is fascinating. Jack is my ideal for an up-to date American lad, and Lafe, Tom, Ned, Jubal, Wilson, Nat, and even Phil and Brodie, are friends worth having. Jubal is one of my favorites, even if he is a little wild at times, and he has made me laugh many a time, "by granny." Miss Nellie Connor is my favorite girl, although Kate is all right. It seems to me that you are a little hard on "jiu-jitsu," as most everyone I know seems to approve of it. The following are my measurements: Age, just 15 years; height, 5 feet I inch; weight, 100 pounds, exactly; chest, normal, 30 inches; contracted, 28 inches; expanded, 32y;! inches; neck, inches; waist, 26 inches; thigh, 18 inches; calf, 12 inches; wrist, 6;;.( inches; forearm, 9 inches; biceps, 9)/, inches. These were, of course, taken when stripped. How are they? Wishing Jong life to ALL-SPORTS, A LoYAL READER. Brooklyn, N. Y. Your measurements are very good, indeed, and if you take a fair amount of exercise, we should imagine that you must be in fine physical condition. Your words of praise in connection with our publication are thoroughly appreciated. Having read every number of ALL-SPORTS up to the present number, I thought I would like to express my opinion of the publication. I like Jack Lightfoot and his friends, but I am disgusted with Reel Snodgrass and Delancy Shelton I want to ask a few questions. I am fourteen years old, and can run five miles slowly, but cannot go sixty yards with speed. Can you tell what causes this? I am a very poor athlete in other: respects. I would like to correspond with Jack Lightfoot the Second. 3026 Third Avenue, New York City. WM. SCHWARTZ. The trouble is you attempt too much. It is necessary to get there slowly. Run the sixty yards at a pace you can stand, and gradually increase it. In various ways you can .build yourself up so that you will be able to claim the name of an athlete. I want to put it up to you whether I am mean or not? A couple of fellows I go with kept borrowing my copy of ALL SPORTS every week, and seem to like the stories about as much as I do, which is saying a good lot, I tell you. Now, I wouldn't object to 'passing a good thing along if it was anything else but the paper I'm so fond of. You see, I'm keeping every copy from No. 1, intending to have them bound, twenty-six to a volume. I want to do this because on rainy holidays and winter even ings I'm fond of rooting back and reading things that particu-


ALL-SPORTS LIBRARY larly struck my fancy at the time they appeared. Now, several times when these friends returned my copy it was all t a ttered and soiled from being in their pockets. I hate to have anyone think I'm a "crank," but what can I do? I had to send and buy three new copies in order to have my file look decent. That wasn't fair. The boys are just as able to invest five cents a week as I am. They got mad when r told them I wasn't going to lend out my ALL-SPOll.TS any more. Please advise me Petersburg, Va. A YOUNG VIRGINIAN. We commend your course. Your boy friends are certainly un reasonable. When you had loaned them one copy it was time your missionary work in that quarter came to an end They know why you wish to preserve your file, and it is very mean in them calling you a crank on that account. Do npt fear but that they will sooner or later invest their own nickels in copies of your favorite paper., and it will possibly arouse their ambition to have a neat file of back numbers for reference. Having read, in some late numbers of your weekly, letters from certain readers, in connection with the fitness of Phil Kirtland to be a leader among the Cranford boys, I've found myself urged to drop you these few lines and ventilate my views on the subject. Now, I like Phil Kirtland as well as anyone, but I know that in stories of this sort, dealing week after week with about the same cast of characters, there must be one who is leader. It is so in real life, and one doesn't have to be very smart to see such a thing. Kirtland is good-but Lightfoot is better. He has proved the truth of this on numerous occasions when they battled for honors, and almost invariably Jack won out. Besides this, Jack always won his honors decently, and to this day there is no such thing as a slur cast upon his right to be leader. Phil has considerable to learn before he dare attempt any stunts. I hope and expect, however, to see quite a fine character developed in Kirtland, because, like those who have complained, I can see elements cropping up in his nature that indicate his capacity for accomplishing things. He is such a fine all-round fellow that, given the chance, he will make a splendid second to our hero. Only Kirtland must learn, once for all, that the man or boy who aspires to conquer other things must first begin to overcome his own weakness, whatever that may be. w ALTER R. SILSBEE. Providence, R. I. What you have to say is direct and to the point, Walter. We believe pretty much as you do. Kirtland will have his chance soon, and let us hope he may avail himself of it. Being a constant reader of ALL-SPORTS, I take the liberty to ask you a few questions. My measurements are: Weight, 109 pounds; height, s feet 4Y, inches ; chest, normal, 30 inches; expanded, 33 inches; waist, 28 inches; thigh, I70 inches; calf, 12 inches; wrist, 6 inches; biceps, IO inches. I. How are my measurements? 2. How can I strengthen my wrist and ankles? I have a punching bag, dumb-bells and Indian clubs. Do you think these will be enough to make an athlete of me? I close, with three cheers for Jack, Tom and Lafe, WALTER MELINS. Troy, N. Y. r. You are lacking a couple of inches in chest measurements and are about the same number of inches too large about the waist. Systematically train, in order to enlarge your lungs. Your appetite, we take it, is all right. 2. The bag and dumb-bells will strengthen arms and wrists in fine shape. From these you can, by degrees, go to other things. Count me in as an admirer of Jack Lightfoot. I have read pretty much all of Henty's books, as well as those of Optic, Alger and Castleman, and while I certainly did enjoy many of the stories that quartet of great authors wrote, to my mind no character created by any one among them can quite come up to Jack. He's so natural, you know, a fellow comes to believe in him; and I sometimes have trouble convincing myself the Cranford boys are not a group I've known personally. And that is the whole charm of the thing. Jack is not perfect like some heroes. He can't do everything better than others. And he has faults like the rest of us, which he fights hard to down. Long may he wave. Mr. Publisher. I would pay five times the present price of ALL-SPORTS if I couldn't get my copy in any other way. Remember me to the "King of Juvenile Story Writers," AsA BuRCHALL. Washington, D .-'C. You are certainly an enthusiastic friend of ALL-SPORTS, and such letters do much to buoy up the spirits of the editor, who feels at times a bit uncertain when guiding the ship of state. We firmly beli"eve boys admire stories in which living characters seem to figure, instead of wooden images jerked by the author to make various gestures; and Mr. Stevens is known to excel in the art of introducing human interest into his work. That is the secret of his popularity, just as the artist becomes famous who can best catch the individuality of the person whose portrait he is immortalizing on canvas. ("ff ow to do Tblngs")-Continued from pag-e 28. lowing illustrates how the plan may be used: 'Three'Left half cross-bucks outside right tackle. 'Four'Right half cross-bucks outside left tackle. 'Five'Right half straight ahead. 'Six'-Left half straight ahead. 'Seven'-Full-back bucks center on the right. 'Eight'-Full-back bucks center on the left." Mr. Yost calls this an easy and practical system, but tacitly admits that it can also be as clear as daylight to the opponents, and suggests that protection against discovery lies in the altering of the key. I would not advise any ALL-SPORTS football players to try that method of concealing the signals. It would probably be unexpectedly successful-it would mystify not only the opponents but the players themselves, and you remem ber, in our last issue, you were reminded how expensive it was for a man to forget the combination to his own safe. Sequence plays, sometimes employed, are so called because one signal is sufficient for that play and the three or four following which have been arranged in sequence. Signals for these series consist usually of some phrase like: "Get together, fellows!" "Now for another five !" or something of this nature. The first play may be full-back through right guard and tackle; the moment the line is formed again, the quarter passes the ball without signals and right half goes around left end, and so on. These plays must be arranged after the team has got working well, and should be practiced so that they can be put through like chain lightning. Their whole effect depends on the suddenness and quickness of the work. You catch your opponents napping and gain ground on two scrimmages before they really wake up to what is happening. The absence of signals leaves them unprepared. Signals ) should always be given in a plainly audible tone, and come quick. A slow quarter is a sure sign of a slow team; but if the man at the signal station talks and works quick, the whole team will follow suit. The men must be constantly drilled until they work like au tomatons and the mere mention of the signal number starts every player going at his proper work instantly. There should never be an instant's hesitation and never a repetition of the signal. The signal is to be given once in a clear, decisive fashion, and on the second of its an nouncement the team should get to work. This means perfection of team play, which will form the subject of our next talk, and perfection of team play is the best claim on success any team can present. Work like a clock, work quick and work all together.


; STIRRING SEA TALES) PAUL JO ES Stories of the adventures of the gallant American hero, Pau.l Jones, in the battles he had with the British men-' o-war, during the Revolution. The histocy of his brave deeds forms some of the most interesting and brilliant pages in American history, and the stories which appear in the "Paul Jones Weekly" are so fascinating and full of the spirit of patriotism that no real boy can resist the temptation to read them. LIST OF TITLES 1. Paul Jones' Cruise for Glory ; or, The Sign of the Coiled Rattlesnake 2. Paul Jones at Bay ; or, Striking a Blow for Liberty 3. Paul Jones' Pledge ; or, The Tiger of the Atlantic 4. Paul Jqnes' Bold Swoop ; or, Cutting Out a British Supply Ship 5. Paul Jones' Strategy; or, Outwitting the Fleets of Old England 6. Paul Jones' Long Chase ; or, The Last Shot in the Locker 7. Out With Paul Jones; or, Giving Them a Bad Fright Along the English Coast 8. Paul Jones Afloat and Ashore ; or, Stirring Adventures in London Town PRICE, FIVE CENTS rer sale all newsdealers, or tent postpaid tile pullshel'I upon receipt of price The Winner Library Co., 165 West 15th St., New York / /


ALL=SPORTS LIBRARY 11 Teach the American boy bow to become an athlete and ao lay the foundation ef a constitution greater than that of the United .States." -Wise Sayings from Tip Top. YOU like fun, adventure and mystery, don't you? Well, you can find them all in the pages of the ALL-SPORTS LIBRARY. As the name implies, the ALL-SPORTS LIBRARY is devoted to the sports that all young people delight in. It'has bright, handsome, colored covers, and each story is of generous length. You are looking for a big five cents worth of good reading and you can get it here. Ask your 1 ewsdealer for any of the titles li sted below. He has them in stock. Be sure to get ALL-SPORTS LIBRARY. Like other good things it has ita imitations. 16-Jack Lightfoot's Strategy; or, Hare-anct Hounds Over Cranford Hills. 17-Jack Lightfoot in the Saddle; or, A Jockey 11 for Just One Day. 18-Jack Lightfoot's Dilemma; or, A Traitor 011 the Diamond. 19-J ack Lightfoot's Cyclone 'Finish; or, How Victory Was Snatched From Defeat. 20Jack Lightfoot in Camp ; or; Young Athletes at Play in the Wilderness. 21-Jack Lightfoot's Disappearance; or, The Turning-up of an Old Enemy. 22-Jack Lightfoot's "Stone Wall" Infield; or, Making a Reputation in the League. 23-J ack Lightfoot's Talisman; or, The Only Way to Win Games in Baseball. 24-Jack Lightfoot s Mad Auto Dash; or, Speed ing at a Ninety Mile Clip. 25-Jack Lightfoot Afloat; or, The Cruise of the Canvas Canoes. 26-Jack Lightfoot's Hard Luci<; or A Light ning Triple Play in the Ninth. 27-Jack Lightfoot's Iron Arm; or How the New "Spit" Ball Worked the Charm. 28-J ack Lightfoot on the Mat; or, The Jiu Jitsu Trick that Failed to Work. 2g-Jack Lightfoot's All-Sports Team; or How Lafe Lampton Threw the Hammer. 30Jack Lightfoot in the Box; or, The Mascot that "Hoodooed" the Nine. 31-Jack Lightfoot's Lucl:R.ICE, FI'V'E . : For Sale by all Newsdealers. or sent, postpaid, upon nee/pt of price by publitrhers : WINNER LIBRARY CO., 165 West Fifteenth St., NEW YORK


/ BUY IT AT ONCE many of ou,r boys have bicycles, some have boats, others like fishing and shooting. A LL of these sports will be carefully dealt with in "Teach the All-Sports Library. The stories will deal with the adventures of plucky lads while tile Amer in healthy pastimes and should be read, there-'-becom e an ath-7 k u a n d so la y th e "f"' fore, by every boy who wants to learn all that is n e w in various games and sports in which he is interested. {0tt1tdati o n of a c o n stil1ttion greate r than 'w t It, a t of the Unt e d States." Wzse sayings from Tip Top. ;o LIKE all other good things The All-Sports Lz"brary has its imitations. We warn our boys to be careful not to be taken m by these counterfeits. Be sure W E think thatthe o quotation from ::.ill to get The All-Sports Lz'brary as no other can compare ous Tip Top Wekly tells, in a few words, just what the All-Sports Lbrar y is .attempting to do. We firmly believe that if the American boy by all news-de a le rs, or sent, of to-day can only be made to realize how surely the All-Sports Library will give him an insight into all matters relating to athletics, our library will attain the mightiest reached by any publication for boys postpazii, by tke publish e rs upon receipt of price PR.ICE J T would be hard to find a boy who is not interested in athletics to some extent. All our schools have baseball, hockey, football and track team.sand when. these teams play their rivals, interest runs high indeed. mE WINNER LIBRARY COMPANY, 165 West Fifteenth Street NEW YORK


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