It was several days after this, and a few days before the game with Wescott University, which was to be played on the latter club's grounds, that Phil, Tom and Sid journeyed to the town of Haddonfield to get some things to take with them on the trip. For it was quite a journey to play Wescott, a college with whom Randall had clashed in football, losing the game because Phil was taken sick and a new quarter back had to go in. It took a day to go and a day to come, and the lads would need to take some baggage with them. The three chums had made their purchases, and were on their way to take a car back to Randall, when Sid grasped the arm of Tom. "There he is!" he exclaimed. "Who?" asked Tom, who was critically examining a new tie he had purchased. "Langridge!" cried Sid. "I'm going to have it out with him." "Don't," begged Phil, but it was too late, for Sid had crossed the street to where the former pitcher for Randall was walking with another chap, as sportily attired as was he. "I want to speak to you!" called Sid to his enemy, as he came up behind him, Tom and Phil following at a distance. "What's that?" drawled Langridge, turning. "Oh, it's you, is it Henderson? Well, I don't know that I care to talk to you. I'm not used to associating with chaps caught in gambling raids!" Sid was fairly trembling with rage, but he managed to take from his pocket a duplicate of the clipping which Miss Harrison had received. "Did you--did you send that to her?" spluttered Sid. "Send it to whom?" asked Langridge insolently. "Miss Harrison? That lying clipping about me? Did you send it, I ask?" "Well, supposing I did? It's a free country; isn't it? Besides, I'm not so sure that the clipping doesn't tell the truth." "Then you sent it!" cried Sid. "You don't dare deny it!" "Dare you deny that you are the person referred to in it? Dare you deny that you were in that gambling hall the night of the raid? Dare you deny that?" fired back Langridge. Sid seemed stunned. "I--I--er--how--how did you----" he was stammering. "I see you don't dare deny it," went on Langridge with a sneer. "Your manner is answer enough. Come on, Perkins. I don't care to prolong this discussion." "But I do!" cried poor Sid, now beside himself. "I'll get even with you for this dirty, sneaking piece of work! You dare send that clipping to her--to her! I'll----" he sprang forward, with clenched fists, and before Tom or Phil could stop him, he had struck Langridge. The latter, with a snarl of rage, jumped toward Sid, but his friend clasped his arm. "Not here! Not here!" implored Perkins. "You can't fight here, Langridge." "No, that's right," admitted the other with a shrug of his shoulders, as he calmed himself with an effort. "And I don't know that I care, after all, for the notoriety of fighting him." He turned aside. Sid was about to spring forward again, his face distorted with rage, but Tom and Phil held him back.