“Well, there you are. Merriwell has read that confession, and yet this very day Lynch was given a chance to practice with the team. What does that look like to you, Wolfe? Doesn’t it strike you that Merriwell has accepted Mike Lynch’s protestations of regret and promises to reform as genuine? If Merriwell didn’t believe Mike in earnest, the contents of that confession would be public knowledge now. Merriwell is going to keep still until he can satisfy himself whether Lynch means what he says or not. If Mike proves that he’s sincere, that confession will be destroyed.”
“And Mr. Lynch will come out on top of the heap, while you and I will remain in the soup,” snarled Wolfe, leaping up and excitedly pacing the floor. “You’d like to play baseball yourself, Ditson. Have you had a chance to play this spring?”
“Oh, I suppose I might have played if I had bowed the suppliant knee to the great mogul, Merriwell.”
“But you wouldn’t do that.”
“Not much!”
“Nearly all the rest of the crowd have squealed and given in to him.”
“I’ll never squeal. The squealers make me sick! Mike Lynch was the last one I’d ever thought would lie down. I’m more disgusted with him than any one else.”
“I’m glad you are—I’m glad of it!” said Bern exultantly. “I hate him! I’d like to get a good twist on him! I’d like to hold his nose to the grindstone! It would do my soul good! And to think I witnessed his signature to that confession! To think Merriwell has that document with my name attached as a witness! I’d give something to get hold of that paper.”
“It would be rather valuable,” murmured Duncan, as if struck by a sudden thought.
“You bet it would! With that document in his possession, a fellow could just about make Mike Lynch do as he pleased. Mike said that he had shouldered all the blame for the betraying of those signals. If that’s true, and I could get hold of that document, I’d have the power to drive him out of college. Say, Ditson, isn’t there any way we can get our hands on that paper?”