Tip Top Weekly No. 139: Frank Merriwell's Father — page 8: what you’re looking at

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

6 TIP TOP WEEKLY. “Oh, no,” he assured. “I wrote the part from an original—from a character in real life, a friend of mine. The original charac- ter will play the part to-night.” Now Folansbee straightened up. “Why,” he said, “you can’t mean “Ephraim Gallup—yes. He was. the original character from which I con- ceived the part. He has seen it night after night, till he knows it almost thoroughly. Some time ago I had an idea that he might be called on to fill the part and I gave him the manuscript to study in his leisure moments. He has committed the lines pretty thoroughly, but there he sits near the front end of the car, digging away at them now. He will do the Yankee char- acter to-night, and I prophesy that he will do it out of sight. So you see there is nothing to worry over about the desertion of Lock- well. If he means to knock us out he has failed, and we will play in Marshall to-night, just as advertised.” CHAPTER II. EPHRAIM CALLS FRANK TO ACCOUNT, For some moments Folansbee was too dazed to say anything. Finally he ex- claimed: “Oh, say! that fellow can’t act!” “T don’t want him to act,” declared Frank. “All I want him to do is to go on the stage and not try toact. If he’ll appear natural, [ll bet something he’ll make a hit.” “Well, it’s taking big chances.” “T fail to see it. We must fill a vacant part some way.”. : “Yes.” “Will you suggest any other way?’ “Can't.” done.” “Well,” sighed Folansbee, with resigona- There Was Only One Sich Brooch i itt the World. Where did the Country Bumpkin vet it? True Blue No. . | <Sii “That's it, It’s the only thing that can be. tion, “I’m afraid they’ll throw things at him.” “I am not afraid anything of the kind will happen,” declared Merry, as he prepared to work. “Now just give me a chance to plug away at this other play. We may have to have it in a hurry.” “But you can’t write it soon enough, can your’ : “T don’t know about that. Good plays have been written in two or three weeks, but that does not happen very often. It didn’t take me long to write ‘John Smith,’ you know.” “T doubt if you can repeat that job.” “Well, I don’t know. The success of any play is always a matter of doubt till it is tried on the dog. The very thing that a manager may feel sure will be a great hit is likely to There is a big element of chance in every venture.” “And now, just as we have disposed of che element of chance in this thing, we’re liable to be knocked out. I don’t like it, if you do!” Merry settled down and began looking over the notes in his book. He had col- lected a mass of material for the new play, but it was in a maze of disorder, and it must be sorted out and put into shape before ‘e could do anything with it. prove a fizzle. During the most of the railroad journey Frank was hard at work over this stuff. It would have been difficult for any person but himself to have discovered that he had made any progress whatever, but he arranged much of it so that in his mind he could see the new | play taking form. He could picture the cli- maxes of the various acts, and many of the best scenes were well worked out in his mind.: . Marshall was reached in time for a late din- ner at the hotel, and then the company was * notified that they were to Proceed at once to the theatre for a rehearsal. COMniCclooo