"Not on your life!" gasped Jack, a bit white. "But you shouldn't leave such stuff around carelessly, Tom."
"I didn't intend to. I didn't think you fellows would be back so soon.
I'm just cleaning up. I'm done now. How did practice go after I left?"
"Oh, we shoved the scrub all over, and made two more touchdowns. Say, though, I hope you can play Saturday," and Jack looked anxiously at Tom.
"Oh, sure I can play. I just didn't want to get laid up, and that's why I pulled out. I'll play all right."
The Elmwood regular eleven was being whipped into good shape by captain and coach, and to their delight our three friends were promised places for the first match game of the season.
It was a night or two before the game when Jack, who had been to town, came back with an evening paper.
"I say!" he exclaimed, looking it over before the summons to supper, "here's more trouble for our friend Appleby."
"What is it?" asked Tom quickly, looking up from a book.
"Why, it seems all his horses were poisoned night before last, all six of 'em. And they found traces of a white powder in the mangers this morning."
"Really?" cried Bert.