“It was here a while ago,” he said to Kindlings. “I wanted to show you how they had the hurdles arranged at the last intercollegiate meet in New York. It’s a good idea I think. Where the mischief is that paper?”
“Which one?” asked Tom, who was reading a book on training rules.
“The one Shambler was looking at. Oh, here he comes now. What’d you do with that sporting paper, Shambler?” asked Phil.
“Oh—er—that paper—here it is,” and he pulled it from his pocket. “Guess I stuck it there by mistake.”
He tossed it over, and turned into the billiard room, with a backward glance at the lads who were now bending over the pages of the journal.
“That’s what I mean,” went on Phil, pointing to an illustration. “Hello, the page is torn. It wasn’t a while ago.”
“What’s on the other side?” asked Kindlings half curiously.
“Some baseball nine—I can’t read all the name—it’s some professional team,” replied Phil, “and one of the players is missing—torn off. Well, never mind, you can see the hurdles, though. I think we might use that kind at our meet.”
Then the two fell to talking of various forms of athletic apparatus, eventually tossing the paper aside. Tom picked it up when his two friends had gone in to have a game of pool.
“That page wasn’t torn before Shambler picked this paper up,” mused our hero. “I wonder what his object was?”