“But this powder will,” said Bully, leaning forward and dropping his voice. “Hold on!” he cried, as Randall gave a quick start. “It ain’t only a sleepin’ potion, Bob. If you could get Merriwell to drink it any time Saturday mornin’, which is to-morrow, he’d sleep clear through till supper time. They couldn’t wake him up, and if they did he wouldn’t be no good.” Randall flushed, drawing back. “It’s a bad business,” he faltered. “So’s your losing out for captain, Bob. Go in and win this game. What if Merriwell does know you doped him? He can’t prove it. If you win the game, you’ll show him up for fair. If you get beat, they’ll say he got cold feet. You win comin’ and goin’, and we’ll even things up with him once and for all. What say?” Randall still hesitated. Looking at the folded paper which his cousin held out to him, the criminality of the thing appalled him. His chivalrous nature rebelled at the very thought. But Bully’s cunning words worked on his mind. His fancied wrongs loomed up large on his mental horizon. Once more a flood of bitterness swept over him, and he felt himself justified in doing anything. “I’ll do it,” he said thickly, and took the paper. “Promise?” “My word is my promise,” cried Randall, half angrily. Then he glanced around with sudden alarm. “Say, I’ve been here too long. See if any one’s in the hall, so I can get out the back way to the side street.” Bully opened the door and announced that the coast was clear. On this Randall silently shook hands with him, then stole off down the corridor on tiptoe. For a moment Bully watched, then his eyes went to the opposite door. In the silence he could plainly hear a gentle, regular snore. Still watching that door, he drew the key from his own lock. Then he snapped off his own light, and in two quick steps was across the hall. For an instant he fumbled at the door, with deft fingers that turned back the lock in perfect silence. Slowly and cautiously he pressed the knob and opened the door. Half a moment later he reappeared and locked the door as silently as he had unlocked it. Darting swiftly into his room, he switched on the light and drew something from his pocket, examining it swiftly. His eyes glittered, and he again snapped off his light and undressed in the darkness, carefully stowing away the object in his coat pocket. “A thousand dollars in cash!” he murmured, as he crept into bed. “Pop, if you could only see me now!” CHAPTER XXXI. BEFORE THE GAME. “How’s everything, Chip?” “Great, Mr. Trayne! We’re going to do some topside playing this afternoon!” “Glad to hear it,” said the coach, with a smile. “Have you decided to keep Kess at second?” “If you approve, sir. Lowe at third, Harker at short, and O’Day in Villum’s place in right. It’s a new line-up, but I think it’s tremendously strengthened.” Coach Trayne nodded quick assent.