“Over to Haddonfield to get that chair, of course,” replied the quarter-back. “Come on, Sid and Tom.”
They were enthusiastically hunting about for their hats and coats, which were never put in the same place twice.
“I’ll go along and show you,” volunteered Frank. “But he may be closed now. It’s after nine. We won’t get to town until nearly ten.”
“We’ll make him open up if we have to get the police,” declared Sid.
“Sure!” exclaimed Tom.
“Fellows, it’s too late to go to-night,” said Dutch, seriously. “You can’t run any chances of Zane catching you, especially as the big game with Boxer is so near at hand. If you’re caught it may mean being ruled off the team, and you ought not to take chances.”
The four hesitated. It was their chair against the eleven, for they knew that there had been a number of college rule violations of late, and the proctor was unusually strict. They might be caught and punished.
“Morning will do,” insisted Dutch, who, if he did not care much for the chair, did have the interests of the eleven at heart.
“It won’t do, but I suppose we’ll have to wait,” conceded Phil, slowly. “Jove! It’s tough to almost get your hands on it, and then have to hold back. Why didn’t you tell us this before, Frank?”
“I didn’t see the chair in the window until day before yesterday, and then I never thought it could be yours, until we got to talking about it to-night.”