Jack got up to walk about the room and quiet his nerves that, all on edge after the football game, had been further excited by Tom's strange action. Suddenly he came to a halt and exclaimed:
"He dropped his letter, Bert. It's here on the floor."
Jack picked up the crumpled sheet. It had been wadded up with the envelope, and the latter showed the blue special delivery stamp.
"Had we better—Oh, of course we can't read it," said Jack. "Only I wish I knew what it was that made Tom go out in such a hurry."
He walked toward his chum's desk, intending to thrust the letter in it, but, as he did so, his eye caught a few words that he could not help reading. They were:
"Meet me down the lane. I'll explain everything. Sorry you had the trouble. I'm straight again.
"RAY BLAKE."
"Ray Blake," murmured Jack. "Ray Blake. I never heard that name before, and I never knew Tom to mention it. And yet—Oh, hang it all, Bert!" he ejaculated. "You might as well know as much as I know, though I couldn't help reading this much," and he told his chum what he had seen.
"What does it mean?" asked Bert.
"Give it up, except I think that this is the beginning of the end.
Someone is evidently going to confess."