But another day passed, and still things went on as if nothing had happened.
Among the students it was known that Prof. Babbitt had tried to find out just who had taken part in the York Street “racket.” He had obtained the names of a few who were present, but he could not seem to discover the identity of the ringleaders. His spy had been kidnaped and dragged away just in time to keep him from accomplishing his purpose.
The mystery of the proctor’s escape from the river remained a mystery till, one day, as Rattleton was descending the stairs, after paying Frank a visit, a conversation between Gooch and Billings was overheard.
Harry paused and listened. It was plain Billings had come to see Gooch, and found him in the lower hall.
“We could cook Merriwell if we came out and told all we know,” said the freshman. “That is just the evidence Rudge wants to prove that Merriwell was the leader of the attack on him. It would ruin the fellow’s college career.”
“But we can’t peach,” declared Gooch. “It would be the end of our college careers, too, for we’d be run out of Yale by the fellows who think Merriwell the only pebble on the beach. We’ve got to keep still and find some other way of getting at the chap we hate.”
“It’s too bad to lose such an opportunity!” exclaimed Billings. “I have it straight that Rudge was nearly drowned. The rope broke when they tried to pull him out. He had twisted his hands free, and that was all that saved him. He tore the blanket from his head, swam under the bridge, and clung to a pier till he was strong enough so he could get out.”
“Jingoes!” exclaimed Gooch. “The case could be made to look like an attempt to murder Rudge.”
“Sure.”
“Well, we will think this matter over some. If we know of an absolute attempt at murder, it may be our duty to tell the truth about it.”