"But they wouldn’t do anything to help down us?"
"Wouldn’t they?"
"An onery Piute who would do anything of the sort ought to be lynched like a horse-thief!" exploded the Texan Maverick, in his forceful way.
"I have reasons to believe," said Dick quietly, "that there is at least one fellow at Fardale who has opened communication with a member of the Viewland team, with the intention of putting Viewland onto our style of playing and our signals."
"Say, Dick," called Buckhart, "just name the varmint, and we’ll give him a coat of tar and feathers! That’s the sort of medicine that will do him good."
"As I have no absolute proof against him, I’ll not name him now," said Dick, remembering how his charge against Uric Scudder had fallen flat through Jack Glennon’s denial that he knew Scudder.
"I think it will not be easy for Viewland to get hold of our signals," said Frank Merriwell, "as the series signals, which will be adopted in the next game, will make it hard for them to tell what we’re going to do. But every man here must be sure he has those signals by heart, so he will make no blunders in the plays. I want to see if everybody here is up on signals, so I’ll just give a few and call on different ones to tell what they mean. I’ll take simple signals first, and then follow with series signals. Ready now. The one I call will answer."
They sat quiet and gave him attention. The darkness was gathering more rapidly in the corners now, the red and gold of the sunset dying out of the autumn sky.
"21—37—70—Z—43," called Frank. "Gordan."
"Drop-kick by full-back," answered Gordan promptly.