So I often visited Hans in the tent when Merriwell and Mulloy, that Irish clown, who thinks Merriwell the finest fellow in the world, were away.

I kept my eyes open, and one day I spotted a letter to Merriwell.

I swiped it instanter, and it helped me out, for it was from his uncle." "You're an artist in your line, Wat!" exclaimed Leslie, approvingly.
"That letter didn't give me all the information I desired," continued Snell, "but I found I had a friend living in a town adjoining the one Merriwell hails from, so I wrote and asked him to find out a few things for me.

He rode over on his wheel, and found out what I have told you." "Why, you are a regular detective, old man!" "Merriwell's mother," continued Wat, "has been dead several years.

No one seems to know much about his father, except that he was nearly always away from home, and he died suddenly in California a little more than a year ago.