As Newbold sat down, Mr. Smith drew his hand across his forehead, swept the line of benches with a look of sorrow and pain, and sighed audibly. There was plainly no doubt at all in the chairman’s mind as to the substantial truth of the charge. It was but too clear that a treacherous blow had been struck at the fair fame of the Triangular League, and at those ideals of sportsmanship which were ever the objects of President John’s highest solicitude. But Anglo-Saxon justice has established the principle that the worst criminal has a right to be heard in his own defence. Mr. Smith turned therefore to the bench on his left, and with the manner of a judge asking the convicted felon whether he has any statement to make before sentence is passed, invited the representatives from Westcott’s to make response. Sumner had prepared no speech; he lacked, moreover, as he would himself assert, all talent for impromptu oratory. But he could tell a plain story with candor and simplicity, and there spoke in his tones an honest conviction, which would inspire belief if the listening ears were attuned to such a voice. He denied with all the vigor he could put into words that Westcott’s had bought or stolen or had any previous knowledge of the Newbury signals. Callahan _had_ approached one of the Westcott players and offered to betray the signals, but Westcott’s had scorned the offer. The address which the Newbury spy had discovered was thrown away, not dropped. In the game Westcott’s had learned a few signals by listening to them as they were given by the Newbury quarter, but before the game began, they had absolutely no knowledge of the signals to be used by their opponents. “I should like to know, then, how it happened that it was the old signals, not the new ones, that you found out,” began Newbold, savagely, as Sumner dropped back into his seat. “If that was the case,” answered Sumner, “it was merely chance. All we got was three or four numbers for holes.” Newbold sniffed. “I should like to ask something else, too,” he continued. “You’ve played football and you know what the excitement is in a game. Do you think it is an easy thing to detect a lot of unknown signals while the game is going on?” “No, I don’t,” answered Sumner, calmly, “but you could get a few if they were given as openly as yours were.” “They weren’t given openly!” At this point, perhaps in the interest of peace, Mr. Snyder interposed with a question. “What has Callahan to say about this? Have you his statement?” Sumner recounted the futile efforts which Westcott’s had made to induce the coach to give evidence, not concealing the fact that Callahan now denied that he had offered any signals at all. At this frank admission Newbold gave vent to a nervous titter of derision. President John smiled contemptuously. “Your stories do not hang together, Mr. Sumner,” he said.