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Chapter 8 THE ENVELOPE

Plunging on through the darkened corridors Tom and Phil reached their room. They found Sid still on the sofa.

"Say, that was great!" cried Tom, venturing to laugh, now that there was no danger of being caught. "You should have been along, Sid. Pitchfork got his to-night, all right. I'll never forget the blank look on his face."

"I either," agreed Phil. "That was a smoker as was a smoker. I hope none of us are caught. The twins and Bricktop outdid themselves this trip."

Sid began to show some signs of interest, and the trick was told of in detail to him. Of course a faculty inquiry followed, but the hose and air pump had been taken from the school laboratory, and there were no clues to the perpetrators. Professor Tines was furious, and demanded that the guilty ones be dismissed.

"Willingly, my dear professor," agreed the venerable Dr. Churchill, "if I can only find them," and there was a twinkle in his deep-set eyes, which he took care that Mr. Tines did not see.

Baseball practice went on for several days. One afternoon, as the lads were dispersing, Ed Kerr was seen coming over the diamond, holding in his hand a letter.

"We can't play Fairview Saturday," he announced.

"Why not?" asked Tom quickly.

"They say they're not quite ready to open their season," went on the manager. "They ask me to put the opening game off a week."

"Are you going to do it?" inquired several.

"Well, what do you fellows say?" asked the manager.

"Oh, well, they probably have a good reason. We'll let it go a week," assented Tom. "But can we get another game in place of it?"

"Yes, I can fill in with the Layton Preparatory school for this Saturday, and we can go to Wescott University the following Saturday, and then tackle Fairview, if you fellows say so."

"Sure," came in a chorus.

When Tom and Phil returned to their room Sid was not there.

"What do you think about it, anyhow, Phil?" asked the pitcher, and there was no need to be more explicit.

"Oh, hang it all, I don't know. It looks funny; about Sid not wanting to tell. And he sure is cut up over Miss Harrison. I wonder who sent her that newspaper clipping?"

"Give it up. But I heard that there was a raid all right, and a lot of college fellows were caught. Some of 'em were our chaps, but they managed to keep their identity hidden. I don't see how Sid's got out."

"Then you think he was there?"

"No, I didn't mean that. But it looks mighty funny. I do hope he isn't going to cut loose, just at the opening of the ball season," and Tom sighed, as though he had the weight of worlds on his shoulders. And, indeed it is no small task to be captain of a lively college team, struggling to win the championship trophy, and the pitcher was beginning to realize this.

"Oh, maybe he just wanted a fling," suggested Phil. "Now he's had it he's ashamed to admit it, and wants to cover it up."

"But he denies that he was caught," said Tom.

"I know it; but what good will that do him, if he doesn't tell where he was that night? He admits that he was in Dartwell, and he must have been somewhere near the place of the raid, or his name would never have gotten in the papers."

"Unless some one gave his name out of spite."

"By hookey! That's so!" admitted Phil. "I never thought of that. But no-no college fellow would be as mean as that."

"Unless it was Langridge or Gerhart. Gerhart is in parts unknown, and Langridge--"

"I understand none of the Boxer Hall fellows were in it," went on Phil. "Only some of our boys and a few from Fairview-more fools they! But it sure has put Sid on the blink as far as Miss Harrison goes. Ruth was telling me her family, as well as she, has a horror of gambling in any form. Poor old Sid. I wish we could help him; don't you?"

"I sure do," agreed Tom. "We need him on the nine, and we need him in good condition. First thing I know I'll have to put a sub on in Sid's place."

"Oh, I hope not. But, say, I've got to do some studying if I'm to play on the team myself. I'm getting to low water mark in Latin and maths. Here goes for some hard boning."

It was about a week after this, in which time Randall had met, and beaten, Layton Preparatory school, that Phil, Sid and Tom were taking a trolley ride one evening.

"Where shall we go?" asked Phil.

"Let's take the Tonoka Lake car," suggested Tom.

"Which means let's go to Fairview," asserted Phil. "Well, I don't mind." Sid said nothing.

Of course it was only a coincidence, but a little later the three lads were walking down toward the co-educational institution, and of course, I suppose, it was also only a coincidence that Miss Tyler and Miss Clinton should shortly come strolling over the campus.

"There's Ruth," announced Phil carelessly, though he was not looking at her, but at Miss Tyler.

"That's so," replied Tom, as if it was the queerest thing in the world.

"They're headed this way-no use to turn back, I suppose?" asked Phil, as if there was some doubt of it.

"No," agreed Tom. "Besides, I want to ask your sister what she thinks of the chances of Fairview beating us."

"Oh, she'll tell you her college will win, of course," asserted Phil. "Well, come on," and they walked to meet the girls who had pretended not to notice the approach of the lads.

"Oh, why hello, Phil!" called his sister. "Glad to see you; aren't we, Madge?"

"Of course," replied Miss Tyler, with a merry laugh.

"I'll see you fellows later," murmured Sid, who was very sensitive, and he was about to swing away.

"Don't go," urged Tom. "We'll soon be going back."

But Sid turned aside. As he did so there came around the corner of the main college building two figures, who strolled over the campus. It needed but a glance to disclose to Tom and Phil who they were-Miss Harrison and Fred Langridge. The couple were chatting and laughing merrily. Instinctively Tom turned to see if Sid had observed them. The second baseman had, and, for an instant he stood staring after the two, who had not seen him. Then, without a word, he kept on his way.

"Beautiful evening," remarked Miss Tyler quickly, and she began to talk rapidly about the weather, as if to cover Sid's retreat.

As Tom and Phil walked along the corridor leading to their room a little later that night, they saw a light streaming out of the cracks around the portal.

"Sid's in there," said Tom.

"Yes," agreed Phil, "I wonder--" But he did not finish the sentence. Awkwardly he and Tom pushed in. They started back at the sight of their chum.

He was bending over a table on which he had placed a portable electric lamp, the college rooms being illuminated with both gas and the incandescents. Holding a paper in the glow of the bulb, Sid was examining the document with the aid of a magnifying glass. At the same time he seemed to be comparing other pieces of paper with the one he held.

"Studying?" asked Tom.

"Yes," replied Sid shortly.

"Something new?" inquired Phil. "I didn't know you were qualifying for a course in identifying handwriting," for he saw that the papers Sid was looking at contained writing.

"Do you see this?" asked Sid suddenly, holding up an envelope.

"Why-er-yes," answered Tom. "It's addressed to Miss Harrison, and-but-are you going over with a microscope a letter you've written to her, to see if it will pass muster? She's not as particular as that, you old bat."

"I haven't been writing to her," replied Sid coldly. "This is the envelope containing that clipping with my name in it-the report of the gambling raid-I picked up the envelope-that afternoon," and he seemed struggling with some emotion.

"What about it?" asked Phil, who did not exactly catch the drift.

"This," answered Sid quickly. "Look at this note," and he showed them a missive containing some reference to baseball matters. It was signed "Fred Langridge."

"I got that from Langridge last term," went on Sid, "and I saved it, for some unknown reason. I'm glad, now, that I did."

"Why?" inquired Tom, who began to see what was coming.

"Because, look at that!" and Sid placed side by side the note from Langridge and the envelope that had contained the damaging clipping. He held the magnifying glass first over one and then the other. "Do you notice any similarity?" he asked.

"Looks to me as if the same person wrote both," said Tom.

"That's right," agreed Phil.

"They did!" cried Sid, as he held up the envelope. "Fred Langridge sent to Miss Harrison that lying clipping about me, and to-day he was out walking with her!"

* * *

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