BOOKS FOR YOUNG MEN
MERRIWELL SERIES
Stories of Frank and Dick Merriwell
PRICE, FIFTEEN CENTS
Fascinating Stories of Athletics
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A half million enthusiastic followers of the Merriwell brothers will
attest the unfailing interest and wholesomeness of these adventures of
two lads of high ideals, who play fair with themselves, as well as with
the rest of the world.
These stories are rich in fun and thrills in all branches of sports and
athletics. They are extremely high in moral tone, and cannot fail to be
of immense benefit to every boy who reads them.
They have the splendid quality of firing a boy’s ambition to become a
good athlete, in order that he may develop into a strong, vigorous
right-thinking man.
ALL TITLES ALWAYS IN PRINT
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1—Frank Merriwell’s School Days By Burt L. Standish
2—Frank Merriwell’s Chums By Burt L. Standish
3—Frank Merriwell’s Foes By Burt L. Standish
4—Frank Merriwell’s Trip West By Burt L. Standish
5—Frank Merriwell Down South By Burt L. Standish
6—Frank Merriwell’s Bravery By Burt L. Standish
7—Frank Merriwell’s Hunting Tour By Burt E. Standish
8—Frank Merriwell in Europe By Burt L. Standish
9—Frank Merriwell at Yale By Burt L. Standish
10—Frank Merriwell’s Sports Afield By Burt L. Standish
11—Frank Merriwell’s Races By Burt L. Standish
12—Frank Merriwell’s Party By Burt L. Standish
13—Frank Merriwell’s Bicycle Tour By Burt L. Standish
14—Frank Merriwell’s Courage By Burt L. Standish
15—Frank Merriwell’s Daring By Burt L. Standish
16—Frank Merriwell’s Alarm By Burt L. Standish
17—Frank Merriwell’s Athletes By Burt L. Standish
18—Frank Merriwell’s Skill By Burt L. Standish
19—Frank Merriwell’s Champions By Burt L. Standish
20—Frank Merriwell’s Return to Yale By Burt L. Standish
21—Frank Merriwell’s Secret By Burt L. Standish
22—Frank Merriwell’s Danger By Burt L. Standish
23—Frank Merriwell’s Loyalty By Burt L. Standish
24—Frank Merriwell in Camp By Burt L. Standish
25—Frank Merriwell’s Vacation By Burt L. Standish
26—Frank Merriwell’s Cruise By Burt L. Standish
27—Frank Merriwell’s Chase By Burt L. Standish
28—Frank Merriwell in Maine By Burt L. Standish
29—Frank Merriwell’s Struggle By Burt L. Standish
30—Frank Merriwell’s First Job By Burt L. Standish
31—Frank Merriwell’s Opportunity By Burt L. Standish
32—Frank Merriwell’s Hard Luck By Burt L. Standish
33—Frank Merriwell’s Protégé By Burt L. Standish
34—Frank Merriwell on the Road By Burt L. Standish
35—Frank Merriwell’s Own Company By Burt L. Standish
36—Frank Merriwell’s Fame By Burt L. Standish
37—Frank Merriwell’s College Chums By Burt L. Standish
38—Frank Merriwell’s Problem By Burt L. Standish
39—Frank Merriwell’s Fortune By Burt L. Standish
40—Frank Merriwell’s New Comedian By Burt L. Standish
41—Frank Merriwell’s Prosperity By Burt L. Standish
42—Frank Merriwell’s Stage Hit By Burt L. Standish
43—Frank Merriwell’s Great Scheme By Burt L. Standish
44—Frank Merriwell in England By Burt L. Standish
45—Frank Merriwell on the By Burt L. Standish
Boulevards
46—Frank Merriwell’s Duel By Burt L. Standish
47—Frank Merriwell’s Double Shot By Burt L. Standish
48—Frank Merriwell’s Baseball By Burt L. Standish
Victories
49—Frank Merriwell’s Confidence By Burt L. Standish
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Frank Merriwell’s Endurance
OR,
A SQUARE SHOOTER
BY
BURT L. STANDISH
Author of the famous MERRIWELL STORIES.
[Illustration: Publisher’s Logo]
STREET & SMITH CORPORATION
PUBLISHERS
70-89 Seventh Avenue, New York
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Copyright, 1905
By STREET & SMITH
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Frank Merriwell’s Endurance
(Printed in the United States of America)
All rights reserved, including that of translation into foreign
languages, including the Scandinavian.
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FRANK MERRIWELL’S ENDURANCE.
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CHAPTER I
L’ESTRANGE.
On the way East with his athletic team Frank Merriwell accepted the
invitation made by Hugh Morton to stop off at Omaha and visit the
Midwestern Athletic Association.
Morton, a young man of twenty-five, was president of the Midwestern. He
and Merriwell, the former Yale athlete, had met and become acquainted by
chance in Los Angeles some weeks before, and there seemed to exist
between them a sort of fellow feeling that caused them to take unusual
interest in each other.
Merry and his friends were invited by Morton to witness the finals in a
series of athletic events which were being conducted by the club. These
contests consisted mainly of boxing and wrestling, although fencing,
which was held in high esteem by the association, was one of the
features.
In explanation of the rather surprising fact that fencing was thus
highly regarded by an athletic association of the middle West, it is
necessary to state that a very active member of the club was M. François
L’Estrange, the famous French fencer and duelist, whose final encounter
in his own country had resulted in the death of his opponent, a
gentleman of noble birth, and had compelled L’Estrange to flee from his
native land, never to return.
As fencing instructor of the Midwestern A. A., L’Estrange soon succeeded
in arousing great interest in the graceful accomplishment, and he
quickly developed a number of surprisingly clever pupils. In this manner
fencing came to be held in high esteem by the organization and was a
feature of nearly all indoor contests.
At first Omaha did not appeal to Frank; but he quickly found the people
of the city were frank, unreserved, genial, and friendly, and after all,
a person learns to like a place mainly through the character of its
inhabitants.
At the rooms of the Midwestern, Merry and his comrades met a fine lot of
young men, nearly all of whom made an effort to entertain the boys. The
visitors were quickly convinced that they were welcome at the club and
that they could make themselves at home there without offending any
conservative and hidebound old fogies. Although the Midwestern was
cautious and discreet in regard to admitting members, and it was
necessary for visitors to obtain admittance in the proper manner, once
inside its portals a person immediately sensed an air of liberty that
was most agreeable.
“The forming of cliques in this club has been frowned down,” Hugh Morton
explained. “I have visited clubs of similar standing in the East and
found them full of cliques and restless with petty jealousies and
personal dislikes. We hope to suppress such things here, although I
regret to say that of late the club has seemed to be gradually dividing
into two parties. Thus far everything has been good-natured and
unruffled; but I fear that I see a pernicious undercurrent. I may be
wrong; I hope I am.”
The morning after Merry’s arrival in the city the _Bee_ noted the fact,
giving him half a column and speaking of him as “that wonderful young
American athlete who had maintained and added to his reputation since
leaving college, yet who had persistently abstained from
professionalism.” A list of his contests and victories during his
Western tour was also given.
At ten o’clock that forenoon Frank and Bart Hodge met Hugh Morton by
appointment in the reception room of the Midwestern. Morton rose and
advanced to meet them, smiling a welcome.
“Look here,” said Frank, when they had shaken hands, “I don’t feel just
right about this.”
“About what?” questioned the Omaha man.
“Taking you from your business this way. When I accepted your invitation
to stop off here, I didn’t expect you to waste your time on us. Business
is business, and——”
“Don’t you worry. My business is fixed so it will not suffer if I leave
it. I’m delighted with this opportunity. Yesterday I gave you a look at
the stockyards and the city. To-day, you told me, you wanted to take
things easy and just loaf around. I’m more than willing to loaf with
you. And my business will go on just the same.”
“All right,” smiled Frank. “You know your own affairs, and we’re glad to
have you with us. Bart and I were talking about fencing on our way here.
We’ve been wondering how much we have deteriorated in the art since
quitting active practice. It has surprised us—and stirred us up
somewhat—to find the sport features in this club. Bart has challenged me
to give him a go at it. If we can have a set of foils and——”
“Just follow me,” invited Morton. “I’ll fix you out.”
As they were about to leave the room a tall, slender, dark man of
thirty-six or thirty-seven entered. Immediately Morton paused, saying:
“Mr. Merriwell and Mr. Hodge, I am sure you will appreciate the honor of
meeting our fencing instructor, Monsieur L’Estrange. Monsieur
L’Estrange, this is Frank Merriwell, the most famous American amateur
athlete of the present day.”
The Frenchman accepted Frank’s proffered hand. He was as graceful in his
movements as a jungle panther. About him there was an air of conscious
strength and superiority, and instantly he struck Frank as a person who
could not do an awkward thing or fall into an ungainly pose. His
training was such, that grace and ease had become a part of his
nature—not second nature, but nature itself.
“Monsieur Merriwell,” he breathed softly, “it gives me ze very great
pleasure to meet wiz you, sare. I have meet very many of your famous
American athletes. Eet is ze grand passion in this country. Eet is good
in some ways, but eet nevare make ze feenished gentleman—nevare.”
“I agree with you on that point, monsieur,” confessed Frank; “but it
fits a man for the struggle of life—it prepares him to combat with the
world, and you know the success and survival of the fittest was never
more in evidence, as the thing of vital importance, than at the present
time.”
The eyes of the Frenchman glistened.
“Very true, sare; but mere brute strength can nevare make any man ze
fittest—nevare. You theenk so? You are wrong—pardone me eef I speak ze
truth plainly.”
“But I do not think so, monsieur. It takes a combination of strength and
brains to make a well-balanced man.”
“And skeel—do not forget skeel. Eet is ze most important of all, sare.”
“Brains give ability, strength gives power to exercise that ability.”
“And skeel defeats ze man with strength and brains. Oh, eet does! Ze man
with too much strength, with ze beeg muscles; he ees handicap against ze
man with just ze propare development and no more. His beeg muscles tie
him, make him awkward.”
“Again I am compelled to agree with you,” smiled Frank; “and I confess
that I consider fencing the most perfect method of developing ease,
grace, quickness and skill—attributes essential to any man who desires
to reach the highest pinnacle of development.”
“You have ze unusual wisdom on zat point, sare,” acknowledged
L’Estrange. “Eet is strange, for seldom have I met ze great athlete who
did not theenk himself superior to ze expert fencer. Eet is plain you
know your weakness, sare.”
Bart Hodge opened his lips to say something, but Merry checked him with
a quick look.
“I have fenced a little, monsieur,” explained Frank—“enough to get an
idea of its value and importance.”
“Zat ees goode. You take eet up at school—at college?”
“Yes, first at Fardale, and later I followed it up at Yale.”
“Ah! but you could not have ze propare instruction—no! no! Ze American
instructor he seldom know very much about eet. He ees crude; but he have
ze—ze—what you call eet? Ze swell head. He theenk he knows eet all.
_Oui!_”
“That is a fact in many instances,” acknowledged Merriwell.
At this point Morton whispered in Bart Hodge’s ear:
“L’Estrange is started and he will bore Merriwell with talk about
fencing, unless we find a way to interrupt it and break away. We must be
careful not to offend him.”
There was a strange, half-hidden smile on Bart’s lips as he turned to
their host.
“Let the man talk,” he said, in a low tone. “Before he is through Merry
will give him the call. You may not believe it, but I doubt if the
Frenchman can tell Frank anything new about fencing.”
“Oh, L’Estrange is a graduate of Joinville-le-Pont, the great government
school of France.”
Morton said this as if it settled a point, and Hodge knew the man
thought him presuming in fancying Frank’s information on fencing was to
be compared with that of the great French master of the art.
In the meantime, all his enthusiasm aroused, L’Estrange ardently
continued:
“You speak of ze brain, sare. When you fence, ze brain ees prompted to
act without a moment of ze hesitation. To hesitate means to make ze
failure. Ze fencer must be readee with hees wit, skill, and action, like
ze flash of lightning. So ze fencer fits himself for ze struggle of
life. He is full of ze resource, he is queek to detec’ ze strength or ze
weakness, of an argument or situation, and he acts like electricity,
sweeft and unerring. Zis make him a bettair business man zan other men.”
“Every word of this is true,” nodded Merry.
“In societee he is at perfect ease; in business he can stand ze great
strain. His blood ees fresh, his tissues are firm and he has ze grand
enthusiasm.”
“And enthusiasm is absolutely necessary for a man to make the best of
himself,” said Frank. “The man who goes at any task with indifference is
inviting failure. No matter how well he may think he knows his work, he
must keep up his enthusiasm unless he is willing to see that work
deteriorate. Lack of enthusiasm causes thousands to fail and fall by the
wayside every year.”
“True, true, sare. I see you have ze enthusiasm of ze boy steel with
you. You have nevare met with anything to dull eet.”
“Not yet; and I hope I never may.”
“To keep eet you should fence, Monsieur Merriwell. Some time eet may
safe your life. _Oui!_ Once since I come to zis country I hear a noise
in ze night. I rise and go to discovare ze matter. I find ze burglaire.
He attack me wiz ze knife. He was beeg and strong—ze brute! I see ze
umbrellare in ze corner. I seize eet. I keep ze burglaire off. I punish
heem. I thrust, hit him in ze face. I give eet to him hard. Soon he try
to get away. He rush for ze door. I sprang between. I continue to
administaire ze punishment. I make him drop ze knife. Ze noise have
aroused ze rest of ze house. Ze police come. Ze burglaire ees marched to
ze jail. Ha! If I had been ze athlete, like you, zen with hees knife ze
burglaire he cut me to pieces—he keel me.”
“That was fine work,” agreed Frank.
“Not yet you are too old to acquire ze skeel. You know a leetale about
eet now. That help you. Find ze French master and keep at eet. Take no
one but ze French master. Ze Italian style is not so good. That has been
proved many time. Ze Frenchman is cool and he stands on guard with ease.
Ze Italian he will move all ze time. He jump here, there, everywhere. He
crouch, he stand straight, he dodge. Every minute he seem ready to jump.
He makes strange sounds in hees throat; but he is not dangerous as he
seem. Did you ever hear of Jean Louis?”
“Yes; he was a famous French duelist.”
“_Oui, oui!_ When ze French army invade Spain, in 1814, Jean Louis
keeled thirteen Italian fencing masters, one after ze other. Zat profe
ze superiority of ze French method, sare. Ze Italian believe strength is
needed to make ze perfect fencer. That is wrong. In France manee persons
of ze highest rank are wondairefully skillful in ze art, yet they are
not remarkable for strength. Eet is ze light touch, ze grace, ze art, ze
composure, ze ready wit that count.”
“How about duels at German colleges, like Leipzig and Heidelberg?”
“Oh, no, no, no! The German have a mixture of ze French and ze Italian
method. Zey are fightaires, but zey count on ze strength, too. Years ago
fencing was ze study paramount at ze great German colleges; but too
manee students they are killed at eet. Ze most peaceable never was he
sure of his life for one day. Later ze method change, and now eet is to
cut and scar ze face of ze adversary. Ze German never have ze grace of
ze French.
“You stay here, Monsieur Merriwell—you see ze finals? Well, zen you see
my greatest pupil, Fred Darleton, defeat his opponent. Of Monsieur
Darleton I am very proud. _Oui!_ He is a wondaire. I belief he can
defeat any American in ze country.”
Hodge made a protesting sound in his throat; but again Frank shot Bart a
glance of warning.
“I shall be delighted to witness the work of Mr. Darleton,” said Merry.
“It has been some time since I have fenced, Monsieur L’Estrange, and I
know I must be very rusty at it; but you have reawakened my enthusiasm
for the sport, and I feel like taking up the foils again. If I were to
remain in Omaha any length of time, I would seek to become one of your
pupils.”
L’Estrange bowed with graciousness.
“Eet would give me pleasure to instruct you, sare,” he said. “Eet would
give me delight to show you ze real superiority of ze duelist, ze
fencer, over ze athlete. You watch ze work of Fred Darleton to-night.
Eet will delight you.”
As Morton led them away, he said:
“You got off easy, Merriwell. Once get L’Estrange aroused and he can
talk a blue streak about fencing for hours. He’s really a wizard with
the foils, and this fellow Darleton, of whom he spoke, is likewise a
wonder. Darleton is not popular with many members in the club; but I
believe that is because of his remarkable skill at cards.”
“He is a successful card player, is he?” questioned Frank.
“Altogether too successful. He makes his spending money at the game.”
“What game.”
“Poker.”
“Do you permit gambling for stakes in this club?”
“It is permitted,” confessed Morton, flushing slightly. “Of course
gambling is not open here. We have a private card room for those who
wish to play for stakes.”
Merry said nothing more, but he was thinking that the practice of
gambling was a bad thing for any organization of that sort. It was not
his place, however, to express such an opinion.
A short time later Merry and Bart were fitted out with foils, masks, and
plastrons, and they prepared for a bout, both eager to discover if they
retained their old-time skill at the art.
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