When the football practice was over and the boys were on their way home, Garry Grayson's friends were in a ferment of wonder and excitement. "Now what do you know about that!" exclaimed Rooster. "Changing signals just before the game with Wimbledon!" "Committing suicide, if you ask me," grumbled Nick Danter. "Came like a thunder clap," declared Bill. "Knocked me all of a heap. I have to pinch myself to find out whether I'm dreaming." "You don't seem especially disturbed about it, Garry," said Ted, giving the quarterback a poke in the ribs. "I wasn't so surprised as the rest of you because Mr. Phillips had spoken to me before about it," replied Garry. "But I'm sure upset, just the same. It is going to make our work mighty hard." "You knew, and you wouldn't tell us!" exclaimed Nick. "A clam hasn't anything on you!" "I wanted to badly enough, but Mr. Phillips told me to keep it under my hat until he was ready to spring it," replied Garry. "But what on earth is the reason?" asked Rooster Long perplexedly. "There can be only one reason," answered Garry, "and that is that he thinks Wimbledon has our signals or may get them. So he wants to double-cross them." "Get our signals?" cried Bill, in astonishment. "Have they been sending any of their scouts around?" "I don't think so," replied Garry. "At least, I haven't noticed any snooping going on. No, if Wimbledon's got them, it's because somebody in Lenox, somebody familiar with the signals, has given or sold them to her." "What?" exclaimed Nick, in horror. "Do you mean to say there's any one connected with Lenox High who would stoop to such a dirty trick as that? Why, if they did, they ought--they ought to be--" Nick stuttered and hesitated, unable to think of any punishment he considered severe enough. "Sure!" agreed Garry. "And that, whatever it is, would be letting them off easy. I'll bet my hat, though, that something like that is the explanation. Mr. Phillips got next to it in some way, though I don't know how, and he's trying to balk the scheme." "I'll bet Sandy Podder and Lent Stewart are at the bottom of it!" exclaimed Bill Sherwood. "I wouldn't put it past them," said Rooster. "But they don't know the signals well enough to give them away. They haven't played football since they've been at Lenox High." "No, but some of their pals have," put in Ted. "Could it be that--" He stopped as though reluctant to voice his thought. "I know what name you were going to say," Bill remarked. "Aleck Anderson. He's as sore as a boil, I know; but I hate to think he'd do a thing like that." "So would I," said Garry. "But he's been with Sandy and Lent an awful lot of late. And you remember, Bill, that when Frank told us of the talk he overheard between Sandy and Lent he said they mentioned the names of Aleck and of Ed Bixby." "Bixby, too," mused Ted. "Is he tarred with the same brush?"