The breathing of the three chums was distinctly audible in the silence that followed. Varied thoughts rushed through their minds, but all centered around the idea that there was a traitor in college--some one who would go to extreme lengths to see the football eleven lose. That this person was Garvey Gerhart was the belief of Tom, Phil and Sid. The quarter-back was the first to break the silence that was becoming strained. "The cowardly sneak!" he burst out. "He ought to be tarred and feathered and ridden around the campus on a rail. The dirty cad!" Phil clenched his fists. "And I'm going to do it, too!" he added fiercely. "Do what?" asked Tom. "I'm going to tell what we discovered. I'm going to let Holly Cross and Mr. Lighton know. It was Gerhart who stole the copy of the signals. He sneaked in here when we were out and found them, though how he knew enough to look behind the picture is more than I understand. Probably he wanted to see if the girl's name was on the back, and saw the paper by accident. Anyhow, he took it, and he lost the charm at the same time, though he didn't notice it. Then he went and bargained to sell the signals to Stoddard, of Boxer Hall. That was when we saw them talking together down by the bridge." "But Stoddard didn't take his offer," interposed Tom. "No; Stoddard isn't that kind of a chap," went on Phil. "He let Mr. Lighton know anonymously. But what Stoddard did doesn't lessen Gerhart's guilt. He wanted to throw the team, and only for the fact that he made his offer to an honest chap we would have lost the game. I'd--I'd like to smash him into jelly!" and Phil fairly shook in righteous anger, for the team was very dear to his heart. He felt everything that affected the eleven more, perhaps, than any other lad in Randall College, not even excepting the captain, Holly Cross. So it is no wonder that Phil raged. He started from the room. "Where are you going?" asked Sid, interposing his bulky frame between Phil and the door. "I'm going to tell the coach and Holly Cross what I've discovered. I'm going to show them this charm. I'm going to propose that we tar and feather Gerhart and ride him out of college to the tune of the 'Rogues' March.'" "No, you're not," spoke Sid very quietly. Phil looked at him for a moment. Then he burst out with: "What do you mean? Don't you want me to tell? I'm going to, I say!" "No, you're not," repeated Sid, and he did not raise his voice. "You're going to sit right down," and he gently shoved Phil toward the yawning easy chair. Puzzled by his chum's action, Phil backed up, and before he knew it he had flopped down upon the cushions, raising an unusual cloud of dust. "Say, Henderson, what's the matter with you?" he cried, as he struggled to get up. "Are you crazy? Don't interfere with me again! I'm going to inform on the dirty, sneaking cad who wanted to see his own college beaten!" Sid put a hand on his chum's shoulder and pushed him back into the chair.