They had to wait some little time to see Chetwind, but when they finally reached him, they found him much more disposed to talk with them than on their previous visit. Briefly, Dick explained to him why they had come, and laid before him all the facts that had developed since the charge had been made against Jim.
“You see, Mr. Chetwind,” said Dick Merriwell, “we’ve gone about as far as we can without your help. You said that, in view of the strong evidence against us, it was up to Phillips to prove his innocence, or, at least, that there was a chance that he was innocent. Now consider the whole affair.
“Phillips makes no attempt to deny signing the receipt for this letter. He does deny having received the letter itself, however, and the fact that he received, at a time when he was in a great hurry, two registered letters in the same mail, a highly unusual occurrence, explains how that might have happened. If he did not receive it, and some one else did, it ought to be possible to prove who the other person was. We haven’t proved that it was Carpenter, but we have done something to show that Carpenter had the chance, and practically the only chance, both to abstract the letter in the first place, and to return it afterward. Now, I think we have the right to demand that you tell us who it was that was concerned with you in the arrangement to pay Phillips for pitching against the Boston team.”
“I guess I’ll have to do that,” said Chetwind. “I don’t like to, but you’ve certainly raised a doubt in my mind as to Phillips’ guilt, which I didn’t think, yesterday, it was possible for you to do. The man who approached me, and through whom I made the arrangement, was a sophomore, named Shesgren.”
“Shesgren!” cried Merriwell and Jim, together, with Bill Brady’s deep bass to echo them.
“Why, I hardly know the fellow,” exclaimed Jim. “I’ve seen him around with this chap Carpenter, but I don’t think I’ve ever spoken to him more than about three times.”
“What does he look like?” asked Dick Merriwell quickly. “Did you see him?”
“Only once,” admitted Chetwind. “I did most of the dealing with him by conversation over the telephone. But I saw him once. He was a big fellow, with rather a deep voice. I couldn’t describe him, except to say that he was big and dark. I suppose that much of a description would fit a hundred Yale men.”
“Yes,” said Brady dryly. “But it doesn’t happen to fit Shesgren.”
“I should say not,” exclaimed Jim. “He’s small, and light, and he wears glasses. His eyes are blue, and he has a thin, reedy sort of a voice, like that of a young boy.”