CHAPTER XV
AN UNSEEN WITNESS.
Parker lost no time in telling Foote about the confession that was in Dick Merriwell’s possession. Bold as the football star had been in his talk with the universal coach, he was far from being as easy in his mind as he had been in his speech. He knew that the signed confession, as long as Merriwell had it, was a constant menace to him. There was no way in which he could escape the consequences if Dick chose to use it against him. Carpenter, always a weakling, had been so terrified when he found that Dick knew all he had done, that Parker’s hold upon him had been completely lost, and Shesgren, as it had turned out, had never really understood what was going on, and had deserted him as soon as he got a hint of the real plot against Jim Phillips.
Foote heard the story with disgust.
“Just like you,” he said contemptuously. “That’s what you got for trying to beat a man like Merriwell by yourself. He’s too clever for you, and you ought to have known it before you started in. I wonder that you had sense enough to keep them from recognizing you when you carried Phillips off in Boston. That was a crazy stunt, anyhow. It’s a mighty good thing for you he got away. If you’d kept him there until the game was over, they would never have dropped the business until they had found out who was responsible. It was only because it failed that they were willing to let you off. That was one time when your foolishness was a good thing for you.”
Parker was really frightened, and he stood Foote’s abuse without a word of protest. He had realized that he could, unaided, do nothing against Merriwell, and he was afraid to take a chance of causing Foote to turn against him.
“I’ll have to get hold of that confession, of course,” said Foote. “That’s for my own sake, as much as for yours. I may get more or less mixed up with you, and if they feel like using that against you, it might do me some harm. If I hadn’t made up my mind to work this thing, though, I’d drop it right now. I’m afraid of you, Parker. You’ve made such a mess of the business since you started in, that I don’t feel safe with such a partner.
“I haven’t any idea of running any chances myself, but I can’t tell what you’ll let me in for. You’ve got to promise not to make a move without consulting me hereafter, and you’ve got to tell me everything you’ve done, too. Look at this business of the confession. You didn’t tell me a word about that registered-letter business, though I’d guessed that you had something to do with it. I don’t suppose you’d have peeped about it now if you hadn’t been frightened by this fellow Merriwell.”
Foote walked up and down the room, thinking hard, while Parker, who really wanted to kick him out, waited anxiously.
“What sort of paper did you write that confession on?” he demanded finally.