“Have you gug-gug-got about twenty minutes to sus-sus-spare?” inquired Chip. Blackington glanced at his handsome watch. “Yes, forty minutes if it’s anything interesting,” he nodded. “What do you want?” “Just cuc-cuc-come upstairs in a hurry,” urged Chip. “There’s something dud-dud-doing—something you ought to know about.” “What is it?” “No tut-tut-time to explain now. Pup-pup-please come.” “Well,” laughed Blackington good-naturedly, “you seem dreadfully anxious about it, and so I’ll come. Go ahead.” They entered the hotel and Chip glanced around in apprehension, as they ascended the stairs, fearing they would be observed. To his relief no one paid any attention to them. Jolliby led the way to the door of a room on which he knocked. “Come in,” called a voice. “Jingoes!” exclaimed Chip. “Didn’t know there was anybub-bub-bub-body in there! Jest thought I’d knock and fuf-fuf-fuf-find out!” He opened the door and stepped in, followed by Blackington, whose curiosity was greatly aroused by this time. It was Merriwell’s room they entered, and they found Dick and Ray Garrett still pondering over the figures representing the standing of the teams in the league. “Is it you, Chip?” said Dick. “Why didn’t you come in without stopping to knock? You don’t have to knock on my door. Oh, hello! I see you have some one with you. How do you do, Mr. Blackington?” Dick rose quickly and stepped forward to meet the president of the league, who shook hands with him cordially. “Ain’t gug-gug-gug-got no time to chin,” said Jolliby, in a mysterious manner, holding up the key Buckhart had given him. “I want you fuf-fuf-folks to keep mighty still. Where’s that dud-dud-door lead to, Dick?” As he asked the question he pointed to a door at one side of the room. “That leads into the next room,” said Dick. “It’s locked.” “Well, I think we’ll tut-tut-try this key on it,” whispered Jolliby, as he hurried toward the door. His manner was so unusual that his companions watched him wonderingly. The key unlocked the door and Chip opened it a fraction, peering into the next room. “All right,” he said, with satisfaction, as he pulled the door softly to, but did not close it entirely. “Tut-tut-turn out that light, Dick. Come over here, everybody. Get close to this door and kuk-kuk-kuk-keep all-fired still. You’re gug-gug-going to hear something that’ll interest you.” He checked their questions, and a few minutes later the quartette stood close by the door, silently waiting and listening. Within three minutes some one entered the adjoining room. This person began to whistle, and Dick knew it was Brad Buckhart. Less than three minutes after Brad entered that room, there came a knock on his door. On being invited to enter, the person who knocked cautiously opened the door and looked in. It was Tom Fernald.