The atmosphere in the Podder home did not contribute to Sandy's comfort. His father was bitterly angry, and let no chance pass to remind Sandy that he was a thorn in the flesh. He threatened to make him go to work, a terrible threat to Sandy. His mother, too, was exasperated at him and took no pains to hide it. So about all the comfort that Sandy got was in consorting with his pals, who were in equally bad case, Lent Stewart and Aleck Anderson. On occasion Bixby joined them in their conferences. He was still a member of the school, but terribly sore at having been barred from athletics and thoroughly in sympathy with the trio, and his hatred of Garry was almost as keen. At first Aleck Anderson was inclined to be a little offish, for he had an idea that Sandy had dragged him in unnecessarily, which was indeed the fact. But Sandy falsified glibly and was backed up by Stewart. "You don't think I'd go back on an old pal, do you?" he said wheedlingly to Aleck. "Not on your life! Old Allen had the goods on all three of us, though it keeps me awake nights wondering how he got it." "It doesn't matter how he got it," growled Aleck, mollified and half-convinced by Sandy's statement and Stewart's corroboration. "The fact is that he got it, and I haven't any use for postmortems." "Well," said Sandy, "are we going to take it lying down?" "Might as well lie down as stand up," returned Aleck Anderson disconsolately. "We're licked, anyway." "Come out of your trance," counseled Sandy. "I've got a bully idea to get even." "I hope it's better than most of your ideas," put in Lent ungraciously. "The last one was a frost." "Everybody flivvers once in a while," Sandy defended himself. "I never noticed that you were such a much. But listen now. What would make that swell-headed Garry Grayson feel worse than anything else?" The others considered for a moment. "To have Lenox beaten for the championship," replied Lent Stewart. "Exactly!" agreed Sandy. "Now I've got a plan to make Lenox lose and make Garry Grayson as sore as a boil, and while we're about it we can pick up quite a pile of cash on the side." "How are you going to do it?" asked Aleck unbelievingly. "Going to break Garry's legs? Bixby already has tried to break his nose, but didn't get away with it." "No such rough stuff," replied Sandy. "I'm using my brains." Lent Stewart grunted uncomplimentarily. "That's what I said," declared Sandy, flashing a dirty look at his pal. "Brains! Look here. Wimbledon is the big game, isn't it? We'll leave out Bass Lake, for Lenox can win that with a team of cripples. But Wimbledon is the team that Lenox has got to beat for the championship. Am I right?" The others nodded assent. "Well then," went on Sandy, "the teams are pretty well matched as they stand. It's a toss-up as to which will win. Now suppose that Wimbledon got hold of Lenox's signals. What would happen then?" His companions started violently as the idea hit them.