The High School Captain of the Team Part 5

As d.i.c.k read down the pages every vestige of color faded from his face.

Here was Gridley's whole elaborate signal code, laid down in black and white to the last detail. It was all flawlessly correct, too.

"Mr. Jarvis," said d.i.c.k, looking up, "you've been a gentleman in this matter. This is our signal code, signal for signal.

It's the code on which we relied for our chance to give your team a thrashing on Sat.u.r.day. I thank you for your honesty, sir."

"Why, I always have rather prided myself on a desire to do the manly thing," smiled Captain Jarvis.

"May I ask how this came into your possession?" demanded d.i.c.k.

"It was in our family mail box, this morning, and I took it out on my way to school," replied Jarvis. "You see, the heading on the first sheet shows that the doc.u.ment purports to give the Gridley signals."

"And it does give them, to a dot," groaned Prescott, paling again.

"So I showed it to our coach, Mr. Matthews, and to some of the members of the team," continued Mr. Jarvis. "I would have brought this to you, in any case, and I'm heartily glad to say that every one of our fellows agreed that it was the only manly thing to do."

"You have won the Gridley grat.i.tude," protested d.i.c.k. "This code couldn't have been tabulated by anyone but a member of our own squad. No one else had access to this list. There's a Benedict Arnold somewhere in our crowd," continued d.i.c.k, with a sudden rush of righteous pa.s.sion. "Oh, I wish we could find him. But this typewriting, I fear, will give us no conclusive evidence.

Was the address on the envelope in which this came also typewritten?"

"No," replied Mr. Jarvis. "I opened this communication on the street, while on my way to school. I tossed the envelope away.

Then I fell to studying this doc.u.ment."

"You must have thought it a hoax," smiled d.i.c.k wearily.

"I did, at first, yes," continued the Tottenville football captain.

"In fact, I was half of that mind when I left Tottenville to come here. But I was determined to find out the truth of the matter. Mr. Prescott, I'm very nearly as sorry as you can be, to have to bring you this evidence that you have a sneak in Gridley High School."

"I'd far rather have lost Sat.u.r.day's game," choked Prescott, "than to discover that we've such a sneak in Gridley High School. I'm fearfully upset. I wish I had any kind of evidence on which to find this sneak."

"Have you any suspicions?"

"That would be too much to say yet."

"Of course, Mr. Prescott," continued the Tottenville youth, "you'll now have to revise all your signals. It will be a huge undertaking between now and Sat.u.r.day. If you wish to postpone the game, I'll consent. Our coach has authorized me to say this."

"I think not," replied d.i.c.k, "though on behalf of the team I thank you. I'll have to speak to our coach, and Mr. Morton is in his cla.s.sroom, occupied until the close of the school session."

"I'll meet you anywhere, Mr. Prescott, after school is over."

"You're mighty good, Mr. Jarvis," murmured d.i.c.k gratefully. "Now, by the way, if we're to catch the sneak who has done this dastardly thing, we've got to work fast. We ought not to let the traitor suspect anything until we're ready to act. Mr. Jarvis, do you mind leaving here promptly, and going to 'The Morning Blade' office?

If you tell Mr. Pollock that you're waiting for me, he'll give you a chair and plenty to read."

"I'm off, then," smiled Jarvis, rising and reaching for his hat.

"I want to shake hands with you, Jarvis, and to thank you again for your manly conduct in bringing this thing straight to me."

"Why, that's almost insulting," retorted Jarvis quizzically.

"Why shouldn't an American High School student be a gentleman?

Wouldn't you have done the same for me, if the thing had been turned around?"

"Of course," d.i.c.k declared hastily. "But I'm glad that this fell into your hands. If we had gone into the game, relying on this signal code-----"

"We'd have burned you to a crisp on the gridiron," laughed Jarvis.

"But what earthly good would it do our school to win a game that we got by clasping hands with a sneak and a traitor? Can any school care to win games in that fashion? But now, I'm off for 'The Blade's office---if your Mr. Pollock doesn't throw me out."

"He won't," d.i.c.k replied, "I'm a member of 'The Blade' staff."

"Don't go back into a.s.sembly room with a face betraying as much as yours does," whispered Captain Jarvis, over his shoulder.

"Thank you for the tip," d.i.c.k responded.

When young Prescott stepped back into the general a.s.sembly room his face, though not all the color had returned to it, wore a smiling expression. He stepped jauntily, with his head well up, as he moved to his seat.

For fifteen minutes or more d.i.c.k made a pretense of studying his trigonometry hard. Then, picking up a pen with a careless gesture, he wrote slowly, with an appearance of indifference, this note:

_"Dear Mr. Morton: Something of the utmost importance has come up in connection with the football work. Will you, without mentioning this note, and without doing anything that can sound the warning to any other student, meet me at 'The Blade' office as soon as possible after school is dismissed? I shall go to 'The Blade'

office just as soon as I get away from here, and I shall await you in the greatest anxiety.

"Prescott."_

This note d.i.c.k carried forward and left on the general desk.

It was addressed to Mr. Morton, and marked "immediate."

When the reciting cla.s.ses returned, and the teachers followed, Mr. Morton read his note without change of expression.

A moment later school was dismissed.

"In a hurry, d.i.c.k?" called Dave, racing after his leader as the young men made a joyous break away from the school building.

"Yes," breathed Prescott. "Come along, Dave. But I don't want the others, for I don't want a crowd."

"Why, what-----"

"Quiet, now, old fellow," murmured d.i.c.k. "You'll have a big enough surprise in a few moments."

They got away together before their other chums had a chance to catch up.

"From the look in your face, I'd say that there was something queer in the air," guessed Dave.

"There is, Darrin. But wait until the moment comes to talk about it."

Walking rapidly, the two chums came to "The Blade" office. Jarvis, who had been sitting at the back of the office, rose as the two Gridley boys entered. d.i.c.k quietly introduced Dave to the young man from Tottenville who greeted him cordially.

"Now, we're waiting for one more before we talk," smiled d.i.c.k anxiously.

At that moment the door opened again, and Mr. Morton entered briskly.

"Now, Captain, what is your news?" called coach, as he came forward.