But Gerhart had anticipated what was coming, when he saw that the cruel telegram he had sent Phil had had no effect, and that the plucky quarter-back continued playing. He evidently knew the game was up, and fled. For, when Sid called at the fashionable eating club, where Gerhart and Langridge had recently taken a room, he found only the former 'varsity pitcher there. "Where's Gerhart?" asked Sid savagely. "Gone," said Langridge, and he began to shake. He trembled more when Sid threw down the incriminating evidence, and blurted out the story. "It's all true," confessed Langridge. "Gerhart stole the telegraph blank and an envelope, while I kept the agent busy talking about some money I expected to get. Gerhart made me go in the scheme with him, but I--I couldn't stand it, and I sent Tom the tip. I'm done with Gerhart. He faked the message to Phil and hired a boy to deliver it. I'm through with him!" "I should think you would be!" burst out Sid, walking about the room. It was in confusion, for Gerhart had hurriedly departed. Sid's eye saw a bottle on the closet shelf. "What's this, Langridge?" he asked. "Why, it's liniment! The same kind Phil had, and which stiffened my hand! How did it get here? It's the same bottle that was broken--no, it can't be, yet there's the same blot on the label. How in thunder----" Then Langridge confessed to that trick of Gerhart's also. "He ought to be tarred and feathered!" cried the angry Sid. "If I had him here! But you're almost as bad, Langridge. You helped him!" "I know it. I'm going to leave college, if you'll only keep still about this. Will you?" pleaded the cringing lad. "Yes; for the sake of the college, not for you," spoke Sid, and that is how only the three chums knew the real story of the dastardly meanness of the two cronies. They thought they were well rid of their enemies, but they were mistaken. Those of you who care to read further of the happenings at Randall College may do so in the next book, to be called "Batting to Win." In that volume we shall meet all our friends again, and learn what Sid did during the greatest baseball game of the next season, and when the collegiate championship hung in the balance. "Well, it's all over but the shouting," said Phil to his chums, as they sat in their room that night. From without came the joyous cries of those who were celebrating the football victory. "All but putting a bronze tablet in the gym, to commemorate the pluck you showed," added Tom. "Aw, forget it!" spoke Phil, as he got into a more comfortable position on the creaking sofa. "Anybody would have done the same to see his team win." "Maybe," said Sid softly as he got up from the easy chair to look at his favorite football picture. Then came a silence in the room, and the fussy little alarm clock had matters all to itself. It ticked away at a great rate.