“I guess you’re right, Sid. I—I didn’t look at it that way. I’ll keep still.”
“I thought you would,” spoke Sid significantly.
Phil put the charm in his pocket. The strain was over. They all seemed relieved. But Phil, so much was his heart bound up in the eleven, could not forget the great affront that had been planned against it. Two days later, meeting Gerhart alone on the campus, he approached him, and showing the freshman the watch-charm, exclaimed:
“Take care, you dirty coward! We know where you lost this!”
Gerhart started, turned first pale and then red. He soon recovered himself, and answered:
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Yes, you do,” snapped Phil. “You stole my signals!”
“That’s a lie,” said Gerhart coolly, and he walked on.
But if Phil could have seen him a little later, when he joined Langridge, the quarter-back would have wondered at the rage and fear shown by the freshman.
“Clinton knows! He found my charm! I was afraid I’d lost it in his room,” said Gerhart.