He turned quickly to his roommate. “I’ve got to go over to town, Clarke,” he said. “Will you fix the rope in the window so I can get in without running the guard?” “Surest thing you know, old man,” said Clarke. “Will you get in before taps?” “I can’t tell yet, but probably not.” “Well, get along, then. I’ll fix up a dummy that’ll fool the inspector when he comes to look at the beds. You’ll find the rope out of the window as usual.” Quickly but quietly, Bob left the barracks and the academy grounds. It was not the first time that he and his roommate had wanted to come in after regulation hours, and by the aid of the rope and dummy this was invariably effected without much danger of detection and punishment. Randall found his uncle waiting for him at the hotel, and was quickly taken to a private room. “Glad to see ye, Bob, glad to see ye!” he cried effusively, as he pressed Bob into a chair. “Shall I send for a drink, eh?” “I don’t drink, thanks,” said Randall. “You must have been in something of a rush to see me, uncle!” “Well, might’s well admit that I was,” and Colonel Carson fingered his goatee thoughtfully and eyed his nephew. “I hear there’s to be a game here on Monday?” “Yes,” and Randall’s face fell a trifle. “Franklin Academy is coming over. It ought to be a pretty good game. Will you stay over?” “Mebbe. Hard to say, though, Bob. I know about them Franklin fellers. I been keepin’ tabs on their pitcher, thinkin’ to pick him up for the Clippers next year. I wanted to see ye about that game, Bob.” “I’m glad some one wants to see me about it,” returned Randall bitterly. “I thought that I was going to pitch for Fardale. If I pitched and won, I’d probably get elected captain afterward--our captain leaves Monday night, you know.” For some reason Colonel Carson looked perturbed. “Yes?” he prompted. “But it seems they’ve slated Merriwell to pitch. That means he’ll do me out of the captaincy. Everybody seems to knuckle down to these Merriwells over here. I can’t understand it!” Colonel Carson looked relieved. He eyed his nephew keenly. “I s’pose that if Merriwell pitched, it’d be a cinch for Fardale, Bob?” “It’ll be a cinch, anyhow,” exclaimed Randall. “If I got in the box I’d draw rings around those fellows.” “Well, I’m talkin’ about Merriwell. He’d do considerable more, wouldn’t he?” Randall hesitated. “Yes,” he replied unwillingly. “I’m bound to say that his very name seems to scare Franklin out of its boots. Why?” Colonel Carson tugged at his goatee slowly. “Well, I figure on gettin’ you in the box, Bob,” he said reflectively. “I want to do a little bettin’ on that game. If it wasn’t for Merriwell, I think that Franklin pitcher might have a chance to win.” “He couldn’t do it,” exclaimed Randall quickly. “If I got a chance at him I’d show him up!” The older man’s eyes narrowed suddenly. “I don’t s’pose you’d throw the game?” he snapped out.