Part 7 (2/2)

Morton halted by the outer gate.

”Pa.s.s through, Drayne---and never let us see your face inside this gate again.”

”But why? What----”

”Ask your conscience!” snapped back the coach. ”You'd better travel fast! I'm going back to talk to the other fellows!”

Mr. Morton was gone. For an instant Phin Drayne stood there as though he would brave out this a.s.sertion of authority. Then, seized by another impulse, he turned and made rapidly for a town-bound street car that was heading his way.

”What's up?” asked two or three of the fellows of d.i.c.k Prescott.

Perceiving something out of the usual, they spoke in the same breath.

”Oh, if there's anything to tell you,” spoke Prescott, suppressing a pretended yawn, ”Mr. Morton may tell you----some time.”

But Mr. Morton was soon back. Knocking on the wall for attention, he told, in as few and as crisp sentences as he could command, the whole story, as far as known.

”Now, young gentlemen,” wound up the coach, ”we must practice the new signals like wild fire. There's mustn't be a single slip not a solitary break in our game with Tottenville. And that game will begin at three-thirty on Sat.u.r.day!

”In reverting to Drayne, I wish to impress upon you all, with the greatest emphasis, that this must be treated by you all with the utmost secrecy until we are prepared, with proofs, to go further!

If it should turn out that we're wrong in our suspicions, we'll turn and give Phineas Drayne the biggest and most complete public apology that a wronged man ever received.”

”All out to practice the new signals!” shouted Prescott, the young captain of the team.

CHAPTER V

”Bra.s.s” for an Armor Plate

Thursday night and Friday morning more copies of the betrayed signals poured in upon Captain d.i.c.k.

Wherever these signals had been received by captains of other school teams, it soon appeared, these captains of rival elevens had punctually mailed them back. It spoke volumes for the honor of the American schoolboy, for Gridley High School was feared far and wide on the gridiron, and there was not an eleven in the state but would have welcomed an honorable way of beating Prescott's men.

Moreover, working on d.i.c.k's suggestion, Mr. Morton busied himself with securing several letters that had been received from Drayne's father.

These letters were compared, Friday evening, with the copies of the signals that had been sent to other elevens. Under a magnifying gla.s.s these collected papers all exhibited one fact that the letters and the copies of the signal code had been struck off on a machine having the same peculiarities as to worn faces of certain types.

It was thus rather clearly established that Phin Drayne must have used the typewriting machine that stood in his father's office.

Drayne was not at school on Friday. Instead, an excuse of illness was received from him.

Nor did Mr. Morton say anything to Dr. Thornton, the princ.i.p.al, until the end of the school week.

Just after school had been dismissed, at one o'clock Friday afternoon, Mr. Morton called Dr. Thornton to the private office, and there laid before him the charges and the proofs.

That fine old gentleman was overwhelmed with grief that ”one of his boys” should have done such an utterly mean, wanton and dishonorable thing.

”This can't be pa.s.sed by, Mr. Morton,” exclaimed Dr. Thornton brokenly. ”If you will kindly leave the proofs in my hands, I will see that the whole matter is taken up officially.”

<script>