Friday’s practice was less severe, with the emphasis on signal drill and the handling of punts and passes, and the first-string players went through only a ten-minute scrimmage and were then sent off. Jim’s misgivings were slightly assuaged when he read the list of the players who were to go to New Falmouth the next afternoon and found his name on it. If he was very bad, he argued, they wouldn’t pay his railway fare! Then, feeling more chirpy, he went back to Number 15 Haylow and ran into trouble. Clem, who had reached the room but a minute before, was gazing perplexedly at the third drawer in his chiffonier. He turned to Jim without greeting to ask: “You haven’t had this drawer open, have you, Jim?” Jim blinked and shook his head. “No, Clem. Why?” “Well, just look at it, will you?” The drawer held underwear, stockings, a blue flannel shirt, a candy box with a piece of red Christmas ribbon trailing from it, a pair of discarded garters; possibly other things as well, but Jim’s attention was held by the number of undergarments in sight and the general disorder of the drawer’s contents. He looked inquiringly at Clem. “Nice mess, eh?” asked Clem indignantly. “Some one’s been poking around in here. Look at that box. It was tied with that ribbon. Someone opened it and didn’t do it up again.” “Well, I guess I’m the only one who could have done it if you didn’t,” said Jim slowly, “and I’ve never been near anything of yours, Clem. So it looks--” “Of course you didn’t do it,” answered Clem. “I needn’t have asked you, only I was so--so blamed mad--” “You’re sure you didn’t leave the box untied?” “Me? Why, there’s nothing in the box but a lot of old gimcracks”--he removed the lid impatiently for Jim’s benefit--“and I haven’t had it open since I put it in there. Besides, hang it all, Jim, you know I wouldn’t leave this drawer looking like that!” Jim wasn’t convinced of it, but he nodded agreement. “Who do you suppose--” he began. Then he asked quickly; “Anything missing?” “Missing? Why, no, I guess not. Gosh, there’s nothing here any one would want!” He had begun putting the things in order again, folding the garments and piling them neatly back in place. He really seemed more disturbed by the disorder of things than by the fact that some person had intruded. “We’ll just have to lock the door when we go out, Jim. I’ve been here three years and this is the first time I’ve had anything of mine troubled.” “Suppose some one did it for a joke?” asked Jim. “Mighty poor joke,” Clem grumbled. “Any one could come in here that wanted to when we’re both out, but I don’t see why they’d want to muss my drawer all up.” “When did you look in here last, Clem?”