The session of the joint committee was almost over when Sid, who had been strolling about, met Tom.
“I say,” began Sid, “I just had a sort of funny experience.”
“What kind?” asked Tom, wondering if Sid’s was anything like his own.
“Why some of these Exter fellows have been asking me questions about one of our lads, such as where he came from, what sort of a record he had, and all that.”
“They have?” cried Tom. “Was it about Shambler? Because if it was——”
“No, it wasn’t Shambler,” replied Sid. “Why, have you——”
“Who was it?” blurted out Tom.
“Frank Simpson,” was the unexpected reply. “Our own Frank.”
“What?” cried Tom, as if unwilling to believe it. “They wanted to know about Frank?”
“Yes, all about how long he’d been at Randall, where he came from, what his record was, and whether he was going to take part in the games.”