The cheering of the cadets at the finish of the game had drowned all other sounds, but Dick pricked up his ear as they drew near the gym. He expected to hear a racket coming from within the building. It was silent as the members of the victorious team entered. Dick wondered if Arlington and Warne had found some method of escaping, but he discovered that the door of the bathroom was still closed. He walked straight over to it and flung it open. The captives walked out, Warne pale with rage, while Arlington’s eyes gleamed vindictively. “I beg your pardon!” exclaimed Dick, in apparent surprise. “Did I accidentally lock you gentlemen in there? It’s too bad! But I am sure you will be pleased to learn that we won the game.” He expected a terrible outbreak from both of the fellows, but in this he was disappointed. Arlington, however, stepped close to him and hissingly whispered: “I’ll have your life for this piece of work!” “Thank you,” said Dick, loudly enough for those near to hear. “I am glad you accept my apology. The score was twenty-four to eighteen.” Arlington passed on. Warne had not spoken. “Well, I’ll be hanged!” muttered Brad Buckhart, the truth dawning upon him. “That takes the prize! Why, he shut ’em up so they wouldn’t bother him during the last half!” It was plain that Arlington and Warne had decided that it was best for them to avoid making a scene, but Dick knew well enough that they were not the kind of fellows to forego a chance for revenge. That night the talk of the academy was the football-game. It had become known that the athletic committee were responsible for the shifting about of the players in the first half of the game, and not a few of the students criticized this interference with Dick’s part of the business. He had demonstrated beyond a doubt in the last half of the game that he knew the positions to which the men were adapted and that he could run the team successfully if not interfered with. In the evening Dick and Brad went into town. As they approached the post-office, Dick suddenly grasped his companion’s arm and drew him into a doorway. “What is it?” asked the Texan. “Look across the street.” “Where?” “See those two fellows over there?” “Yes. Why, one of them is—it’s Arlington!” “Sure.” “And the other is——” “Fred Kennedy!” “Right!” exclaimed Brad triumphantly. “That is Kennedy! I knew I wasn’t mistaken! Come, Dick, let’s go over there and tackle them! You can do up Kennedy. I’ll take care of Arlington while you even the score with the fellow who blinded you in Uniontown.” But Dick held Brad back. “Don’t be too hasty,” he warned. “What are they doing together? I’d like to understand that.” “It is right queer.” “I should say so! Chester Arlington is a member of the Fardale Academy athletic committee, and is associating with this Kennedy, who is a crooked gambler. Without doubt, Kennedy came here to-day to bet money on the football-game, and you may be sure he did not bet on Fardale.”