Then Tom, and his two mates, seeing how the wind was blowing, made a special point to invite the newcomer to their room more frequently. They took him to their bosoms, and their warm welcome more than made up for the coldness on the part of some of the others.
It was not an intentional slight by those who did not welcome Simpson. Don’t get that impression, for there was a warm school spirit at Randall. Only, somehow, it took a little longer for a stranger to make friends, coming in after the term had started, than it did before. Then, too, the fact that he had not passed his freshman year there was a bit against him. But Tom, Phil and Sid minded this not in the least, and soon Frank was made to feel quite at home, for which he was duly grateful.
“It’s mighty white of you fellows, to treat me this way, like a friend and a brother,” he said, feelingly, one night, after a session in the room.
“Oh, get out! Why shouldn’t we?” demanded Sid.
“Of course,” spoke Tom.
“Well, lots of fellows wouldn’t go to the trouble, and I appreciate it,” went on the lad from the Golden Gate. “All I want now is to make the ’varsity, and I’ll be happy!”
“You may be nearer getting on than you think,” murmured Phil, for in practice that day Snail Looper had done worse than ever, while Frank was a tower of strength to the scrub, which had almost beaten the first team.
In spite of their work on the gridiron, our heroes did not forget to look for clews to the missing chair and clock. Only none developed, search and pry about as they did. The big Californian helped them by suggestions, but there proved to be nothing in his theory of a purloining secret society, and Tom and his chums did not know which way to turn next.
The date for the game with Newkirk was drawing closer, and practice was correspondingly harder. It was one afternoon, following a gruelling hour on the field, that as Tom, his two chums, and Frank were walking toward the gymnasium, they saw several members of the faculty entering the house of President Churchill.