“No, sir, I know nothing about it. You spoke of Toby Nott’s typewriter. I was in his room a few days ago and he was using it and I noticed that his ribbon was purple. He may have a black ribbon, of course, but we could find out, sir.” “Let’s not bother,” was the reply. “I’ve already accepted your word, Locke. Now, one more thing. Suppose this was not intended as a hoax, to get a laugh on the Hoskins people. In that case it would look like an attempt to get you in wrong, wouldn’t it?” “Why――yes, sir; I suppose it would,” answered Barry, unwillingly, “but I don’t see――I don’t know――” “That’s what I’m getting at. There’s no one you know of who might have taken this means of evening up a score, Locke?” “I――I just can’t imagine any fellow doing anything like that, sir, no matter what――no matter how sore he might be!” “Hm! that hardly answers my question, Locke. I’ll put it this way: Since you’ve seen that letter, has it occurred to you that it might be written by any one you know?” Barry’s gaze dropped. “I’d hate to suspect any fellow――” he began. “Locke!” Major Loring’s voice had a ring that almost made Barry jump. “Answer my question!” Barry met the Major’s stern gaze steadily for a moment. Then he shook his head. “That isn’t fair, sir,” he said. “It is fair!” answered the coach, firmly. “If this letter was not written as a joke, it was written to compromise you. You are a member of the team. Consequently the fellow who did that, deliberately set out to cause trouble to the team, to interfere――maliciously interfere――with my efforts. Why, just think a moment, Locke! Suppose I took that letter to Doctor Clode. What would be the result? Some one would get fired out of here mighty quick, and you know it. And he deserves to be. Whether that was a joke or a piece of spite work, it’s despicable. Fortunately, Prince thought it a hoax, but even so he must think we have a strange sense of humor here at Broadmoor. Perhaps you’d better read his letter, too.” Barry accepted it in silence and read: HOSKINS ACADEMY ATHLETIC BOARD FAIRMOUNT, CONN. _Tuesday._ MR. HARRIS LORING, BROADMOOR SCHOOL, WESSEX, CONN. DEAR MR. LORING: The inclosure reached me this morning and I’m forwarding it for your interest. If you can discover the humorous youth who wrote it you might tell him that we aren’t in the market for his funny quips. Also, if you do get him, give him a couple for me! Cordially, GEO. A. PRINCE. Barry handed the two letters back and the Major frowningly returned them to the envelop and the envelop to his pocket. Then, more gently, he said: