“In some way they will, I feel sure, get word to the college authorities of what is on foot. Very well, you have but to stay away at the last moment, and give some sign by which the proctor will be led to the hiding place of your enemies. Then, by judiciously spilling a little of the pink paint near their rooms, and secreting a pot of it near their hiding place, you will have them on the hip, as my friends the Romans say.” “Good!” cried Bill, after a moment’s thought, “I’ll do it.” “Then here is the pink powder,” went on the professor, handing Bill several packages, “and may luck attend you. Just mix it with water, and it will do the work. Now, Tithy, I can attend to your case.” “And I’ll get back to school, and put up a game on North and Mersfeld,” said Bill. “We wish we could be there to see,” spoke Mr. Clatter in eager tones. “Tithy and I would enjoy it, but we have troubles of our own. I’ll be around this way in about two weeks again, and you can tell me about it.” “Come to the ball game,” invited Bill. “We’re going to play Sandrim in a league contest.” “I will, if I am not in jail,” promised the astronomer solemnly. Bill hurried back to his brothers and told his story, adding the professor’s suspicions, warnings and advice. “The sneaks!” burst out Cap. “Mersfeld and North to put up a game like that on us.” “And Chapin to go in with them,” added Pete. “They ought to be run out of school!” declared Whistle-Breeches. “Easy,” suggested Bill. “Maybe Bob Chapin didn’t know what he was up against. We’ll have a talk with him.” Bob soon proved to the satisfaction of the Smith brothers and Donald Anderson, that he was not aware of the “double cross” plan of the deposed Varsity pitcher. “North and Mersfeld suggested the scheme to me,” Bob admitted, “and said you fellows would be good ones to do it.” “And they’re going to play a safety, and hide somewhere to watch us be nabbed by McNibb; aren’t they?” demanded Cap. “They’re going to hide some place near the statue,” replied Bob, “because I heard them saying something about it. But, honest, fellows, I didn’t know that they were going to squeal. They got me all worked up and I was interested. I hope you believe me.” “We do,” Bill assured him. “Now to get even. I guess, in case they make the split, that they’ll send an anonymous letter to McNibb. How about it?” “Naturally,” agreed Cap and Pete. “Then we’ll add another,” went on Bill, “and in it we’ll disclose the hiding place of the sneaks. Where did you say it would be, Bob?” “In the clump of rhododendron bushes in front of the statue.” “Good! Now the plot thickens, and we’ll have to thicken the pink paint. Come on, fellows, get busy. First I’ll prepare the second anonymous letter.” A few hours later Proctor McNibb was rather surprised to receive a screed, signed with no name, informing him that a plot existed among a certain lot of Freshmen, and that the said plot consisted of a plan to paint the founder’s statue baby-pink.