They had met their girl friends after the game, and had received their congratulations. Then had come a happy time, walking with them, then the feasting, and now our friends were on their way to their room.
“There are only two things that are bothering me,” remarked Tom, thoughtfully.
“What’s that—Langridge?” asked Phil. “Say, he must have felt sick when he got to where Sid was, and saw that it was a touchdown, all right! Did he hurt you, Sid?”
“Well, he knocked the wind out of me—that is, what there was left to knock. But I guess he didn’t mean to.”
“Oh, he meant it, all right,” declared Tom. “But I wasn’t thinking of Langridge. I was going to say that the two things that bothered me was the mystery of the chair and the clock.”
“That’s so,” came from Phil. “I wonder who that fellow was, and how the deed came to be in his chair?”
“We must tell Prexy about it,” decided Sid. “It may have a bearing on the case.”
They were deep in a discussion of possible explanations of the various problems that vexed them, when they turned down the corridor that led to their room. There was so much noise going on out on the campus—shouts and yells, and the students circling about the bonfires—that the footsteps of our friends made no sound. That is why they were close upon a figure crouched in front of their door before the kneeling one was aware of their presence. Then the figure started away. But Phil was too quick, and grabbed it.
“I’ve caught you!” cried the quarter-back. “So you sneaked back, to see if you could find the deed, eh?” for he thought he had the stranger who had before visited them.