The others looked at Kerr in surprise. It was something new for him to find fault openly with Langridge. The latter felt it, too, and hardly knew what to say. "Well, I--er--I----" "Yes, make some excuse," went on the catcher bitterly. "We got dumped, and that's all there is to it. I'm not saying I did such brilliant work--none of us did--but you did rotten, Langridge, and you know it. It isn't as if you couldn't do better, for we all know you can. You've gone stale--or--or something!" Tom had an idea what it was that had made the pitcher go "stale." His brilliant hit and run had been followed by a reaction, the result of the stimulant he took. It is always thus. Langridge stared at Kerr, his most particular chum, and then, as if not understanding it, went off by himself in a corner of the car. It was not a jolly party that rode back to Randall College. Nor were matters much better when they arrived. The freshmen had to endure the taunts of the sophomores concerning the trolley episode, as well as their own unexpressed disappointment at the result of the game. "Sid," said Tom in their room that night, when his roommate was stretched out on the old creaking sofa--"Sid, if you knew some member of--er--well, the crew who didn't train properly--that is to say, did sneaking things on the sly--didn't keep in form for a race, what would you do?" "How's that? Is some member of the crew trying to throw the college?" cried Sid, suddenly sitting up. "No, no. Of course not. I'm just supposing a case. You know we have to suppose cases in our psychology class. I'm just taking one for the sake of argument." "Oh," replied Sid sleepily. "If it's only a supposititious case, all right. I thought you meant you knew of some chap who was doing a dirty trick." "Well, suppose I did know of one--or you did--what would you do? Would you tell the coach or the captain?" "What good would it do?" "That's not the point. Would you?" "Well, you must have a reason for telling. Don't you learn that in psychology?" "Of course. Well, my reason might be that I wanted to see the crew do good work and not lose on account of some fellow who couldn't last out a race because he broke training rules on the sly. Or it might be that I wanted to see the fellow himself take a brace." "Both good reasons, son. Both good. As the Romans say, _Mens sana in corpore sano_. You would do it for his own physical good. Very nice. For his mental improvement also." "I'm serious," declared Tom. "So am I, you conscientious old wind-ammer! I know it. The trouble is you're too serious. Why don't you let things slide sometimes?" "I can't." "No, I s'pose not. Well, then, fire away, old chap. Wait until I get more comfortable, though," and Sid turned and wiggled on the decrepit sofa until it threatened to collapse. "You haven't answered my question yet," persisted Tom when his chum had been silent for two minutes.