"Who's the girl?" asked Jack, playfully.
"There doesn't happen to be any particular one," answered Tom with a smile. "I'm writing letters, trying to pick up a new clew to this mysterious case."
"Still seeking clews?" asked Bert.
"Of course. I'm not going to stop until I get what I want. Anything new outside?"
"Nothing much, except our football stock has gone up a few more points.
Everyone seems to think we're going to do Holwell good and proper."
"I hope so," murmured Tom, as he bent over his writing. "I'm going to play my best, if they let me go in the game."
"Oh, I guess they will," said Jack; and then the silence in the room was broken only by the scratching of Tom's pen.
CHAPTER XXI
IN THE STORM
"'Rah! 'Rah! 'Rah! Elmwood!"