“_Dear Sir_: As I am about to leave Blue Cove, I write this to let you know that your entire club, and yourself and Kent Spencer in particular, are a lot of chumps. You are easy stuff, and if it hadn’t been for Frank Merriwell, with whom I will yet get square, I would have worked you for a jolly good haul in cold cash. You must have thought me a fool to waste my time coaching you for the paltry sum you agreed to pay me. I am out for dust, and I generally get it. I intended to fix things so you could not win against Alexandria, and I should have had a good sum bet against you, being certain of winning. That was my game, and now that it is spoiled, I don’t care who knows it. I think the Alexandria boys will win anyhow. As for Merriwell’s charge that Mr. Radford was sent here by Alexandria as a spy, there is nothing in it. The Alexandria fellows knew nothing about his being here. He is a friend of mine, and, as I had advised him to bet against Blue Cove, he wished to see you in practice. That is all. Yours derisively, “_Rolf Harlow_.” This insolent and insulting note brought cries of anger from the listening lads, and when Dobbs finished reading, the entire club was in an uproar. On all sides fierce denunciations of Harlow were to be heard. The things said about Rolf were far from complimentary. Spencer, who was president of the club, found some difficulty in calling the excited and enraged boys to order. A dozen times he hammered on the table before him with his gavel, sharply commanding them to sit down and be still. At last they subsided, grumblingly, scowling and muttering to each other. Kent then arose and said: “Gentlemen, we should thank Mr. Rolf Harlow for saving us the trouble of an investigation by frankly acknowledging himself the contemptible and pusillanimous scoundrel which he is. A fellow who could make such a confession without shame—indeed, a fellow who could make it boastingly, as this fellow did, is not worthy an instant’s consideration from gentlemen!” “Right! right!” cried the boys. “All there is to be considered in connection with this matter, then, is whether Alexandria was concerned in this dirty game or not.” “But he says Alexandria was not,” quickly said a boy by the name of Anson Addison. “And I would not believe him under any circumstances!” cried Fred Dobbs. Then arose another discussion, which ended in the appointment of a committee to discover, if possible, if the Alexandria Club had resorted to such a sneaking and ungentlemanly trick.