“You think, Brad,” he asked, “that Lenning still has that note where you say he placed it?”
“It’s a cinch!” Brad declared.
“Keep this under your hats, both of you,” said Merriwell. “If that evidence concerns Darrel, and indirectly myself, we’re going to have it.”
He spun around and ran back to the field. Lenning was right guard for the Gold Hill team, and Spencer Dunn was left guard for Ophir.
“Spence,” said Merry, “I want some of your harness. If you’ve no objection, I’d like to take your place in the game for the second quarter.”
“Go to it, Chip!” answered Dunn cheerfully, and began shedding as much of his costume as Merriwell thought necessary and had time to take.
Colonel Hawtrey witnessed the proceeding.
“Couldn’t stand the strain, eh, Merriwell?” he laughed. “Well, I don’t blame you, my boy. Now I expect to see some real football.”
Merriwell smiled a little. “I wonder what Hawtrey would say,” he muttered to himself, “if he knew just what sort of a game within a game this was going to be?”