"Too bad that he got away," thought Frank, as he started across a field to take a short-cut that would save him considerable in his walk home. "I don't even know who he is. But, at any rate, this settles the question of signals. We wouldn't dare use the old ones now." He made direct for the home of Buster Billings, where Coach Willoughby was stopping, he being an old friend of the family. "Hello, how did you make out?" was the way he greeted Frank when the football captain was ushered into his room, where he was dressing for dinner. "You guessed right, sir," answered Frank, gloomily. "Then there _was_ a spy around to pick up our signals?" asked the coach, smiling. "He was hidden up in that big dense pine tree, and I guess he could see everything we did, as well as hear my signals. It's a shame that we have to go up against such trickery as that, sir," declared Frank, warmly. "That's all right. Remember what we concluded would come out of this thing. If those Clifford players are small enough to take advantage of this find, let them, that's all. We'll fix it so that they'll make some tremendous blunders before they decide that honesty is the best policy. But I'm glad you found out. Now, tell me all about it, Frank," and the coach put both hands on the shoulders of the young athlete, in whom he had taken great interest. Frank made a wry face. "There isn't much to tell. No _veni, vidi, vici,_ about this, for, while I came, and saw, I didn't conquer by a long shot. The fellow dropped down out of the tree, and made off, with me tagging behind. Then he discovered me, and ran. I followed suit, and was rapidly overtaking him, when we reached the road that turns toward the one along the river bank leading to the Clifford bridge." "Yes, and then?" continued the coach, expectantly. "I lost him! He had a wheel hidden in the bushes, and pedaled away, giving me the laugh as he went out of sight. That's all, sir," concluded Frank. "Did you get a square look at the fellow?" inquired Mr. Willoughby. "Enough to make sure that he didn't belong in Columbia, so far as I could tell. I guess he came from Clifford, all right, sir." "Well, it makes little difference, so long as we know the signals are off. Forewarned is forearmed, they say. Forget all about it, my boy, and we'll fix matters so that we can profit from our seeming misfortunes." So Frank went home to clean himself, and eat his supper. The consolation given by Coach Willoughby did much to cheer him up, and he managed to put the ugly business out of his mind. Indeed, he had a host of other things to bother him. The game on the morrow, of course, meant much to an enthusiast like Frank. Then, again, there was that strange matter in connection with Minnie Cuthbert. Frank thought a good deal of Minnie, and they had been great friends for a long time. To have her cut him dead was bad enough, but to act as she did toward his sister Helen seemed outrageous.