"You don't dare deny it," went on the captain. "Now, Sid, I've made my last appeal. From now on I'm going to act. I'm captain of the nine, and what I say goes. I say you sha'n't go out to that gambling hall to-night!" and, before either of his chums were aware of his action, Tom had sprung forward, locked the door, and taken out the key. "There! Let's see you go out now!" cried Tom, as he planted himself in front of the portal and folded his arms, a picture of defiance. Sid acted as if stunned for a moment. Then, fairly springing forward, he cried: "Stand aside, Tom! I've got to go out now! You don't understand. Stand aside and let me pass!" "I'll not! You sha'n't make a beast of yourself any longer!" "Stand aside or I'll tear you away from that door and burst it open!" and Sid fairly hissed out the words. Tom never moved. Calmly he faced his chum. Though his face was stern, there was a look of deep sorrow on it. As for Phil he knew not what to do or say. "Once more," asked Sid, and his voice was calmer, "will you stand aside, or have I got to force you?" "You're not going out of here to-night," repeated Tom. "This has got to end. I'm going to find out your secret--the secret you are keeping in spite of your better self. We'll get at the bottom of this--we'll restore you to yourself, Sid--to the nine that needs you. We'll have the ban removed!" Once more he held out his hands appealingly. "I ask you for the last time, will you stand back?" came from Sid, in steely tones. "No!" cried Tom resolutely. "Then I'll make you!" and Sid approached closer. He made a grab for Tom's outstretched right hand, and wrenched it cruelly. In spite of himself Tom gave a cry of pain, for the injury was tender yet. This seemed to break the spell. Phil sprang forward. "Sid--Tom!" he cried. "What are you doing?" They seemed to realize, then, that they had nearly come to blows. With a sob, almost of despair, Sid released his hold of Tom's hand, and staggered back. At the same time the captain, reaching in his pocket for the key, inserted it in the door, and shot back the lock. "You may go," he said gently. Sid, with never a word, but with a look of anguish on his face, as if he was torn between two fates, passed out. CHAPTER XXXI THE BAN LIFTED "I never knew that clock ticked so loud," remarked Tom, after a silence that seemed interminable. "Listen to it." "It does make an infernal racket," responded Phil, and his voice sounded strange to him. So great had been the strain engendered by the dramatic departure of Sid, that both Tom and Phil felt the awkwardness of speaking of commonplace matters after it. "Guess we'll get a new ticker," suggested Phil, for want of something better to say. "No," answered Tom slowly. "Old things are best after all--even if they don't keep just the right time. I'm attached to that clock." Somehow Tom felt that the simile might apply to Sid, but he did not mention it.