Frank Merriwell's Fame — page 4: what you’re looking at

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

2 TIP TOP WEEKLY. and dignified in her part on the stage, did a wild and fantastic skirt dance, while the “first old man,” bent, tottering, gray-haired, stood on his head and cracked his heels together in the air. They rushed at Frank and overwhelmed him with congratulations, and they assured Parker Folansbee, the backer of the com- pany, that he would have money to burn at the end of the season. “Hear those people shout!’ exclaimed Douglas Dunton. “In all my experience on the road I have never struck anything like this. It beats.” Roscoe Havener, calm but satisfied; forced his way to Merrtwell’s side, taking hold of Frank with both hands. “You've got to go out again,” he said. ied “Good heavens!” exclaimed Frank. “I have been out there and bowed till my back is lame. This is too much!” “Listen,” directed the stage manager. ‘Author! audience. author! author!” shouted the “That means you,” said Havener. “You'll have to go out and make a speech.” “A speech?” “esi” “Oh, come “ “You can’t get out of it.” “You do it, Havener, old man. You tell them that Fe “It won’t go. They’ll never let up till the author comes out, and they know he is the actor.” Frank had made speeches before, but never in his life had he felt so “shaky” as he did just them. He had been keyed up to a high tension by the uncertainty of it all, and now The play was a success beyond doubt, and his it seemed that the relapse had come. overstrained nerves were quivering so that his teeth almost chattered, and his knees felt as if they were knocking together. And now he must make a speech. “They don’t know the author is with the piece,” he said, weakly. “My name was not advertised as the author.” “if it had been. they might have been sat- isfied by your repeated appearances before Go ahead, Merriwell.. This is the first time I’ve ever known you to have the curtain. an attack of the flunks.”’ Frank stiffened up. “All right,” he said. “But I.may_ break down.” R “You won't... ll risk you,” Havener pulled the side of the curtain back and Merry walked out. A sea of faces lay before him. There was a fluttering motion everywhere as the spectators clapped their hands. “You're all right!” shouted a loud voice. “Bring out the feller that writ the play.” In that moment all Frank’s nerve and as- surance returned to him. Never was he cooler than when’ he bowed, smiled, and opened his mouth to speak. ‘Ladies and gentlemen,” he said, ‘permit me, in behalf of the entire company and the manager, to thank you for this gracious re- ception, As the play is absolutely new and this is the first time it has.been acted before from the manager down should be extremely anxious as to the outcome, for we felt that your verdict must decide the fate of the piece. As author of the play, it is possible that I Was more anxious than anybody else.” “Hey?” shouted the same loud voice from the midst of the orchestra chairs. ‘Did you write the play?” “T did,” bowed Frank. great play, by any means, but it has given “T know it is nota me unbounded pleasure to know it has pleased you, ladies and gentlemen. It is not A Pitchfork is a Dangerous Weapon When Wielded by a Strong Arm. True Blue No. 30 3 (eo) XoXo)