"Who is it?" demanded Campbell, and slipped the catch when he heard Bassett's voice. As soon as the "Whirlwind" had stepped inside, Campbell went over to the window and resumed the occupation in which he had been engaged when Bassett had interrupted him. From the window sill he took a smoldering cigarette and, holding it in his cupped hand so that the glow could not be seen from outside, sucked in, and after a moment cautiously blew the smoke out into the night air. Bassett watched him in silence for a moment and then he said:
"They slipped something over on you, didn't they?"
"What can you expect?" was Campbell's reply. "But I can tell you this—if I don't get a fair show pretty quick, I'm going to quit—and I'll not only quit playing football, but I'll say good-by for a lifetime to Ridgley School. I'm not going to be the goat much longer—you can bet your gold pieces on that."
"You'd have been on the first team already if it hadn't been for Teeny-bits," said Bassett.
"Some day I'm going to show that fellow up," said Campbell. "It makes me sick the way the whole crowd falls for him."
"What are you going to do?"
"Well you watch and see!"
"Got any plan?"
"Not yet."
"I have—one that will work this time." Bassett looked at his friend keenly and seeing that Campbell's face betrayed skepticism he prepared himself mentally to exercise the same talents that had made his father, Blow-Hard Bassett, a successful seller of mining stock.