“There’s one thing that puzzles me,” observed Davis. “It doesn’t seem as if the writing was in the same hand as the printing.”
“Yes, I noticed that. But very often a man writes differently with a pen than with a pencil. Besides, you can’t very well compare printing with writing. Anyway, whoever did it managed to give a very pretty exposure of our signal code. They’ve even got two special plays down there.”
“It’s a rotten piece of business,” exclaimed Davis. “And I’ll bet you anything that chap Gibson is at the bottom of it. Look here, Mr. Payson, suppose you let me have a talk with Burtis. Maybe I could find out about it without letting him know.”
But Payson shook his head and Merriwell dissented with a frown.
“Better not,” said the coach. “Wait until after the game. There’s enough to contend with now, Davis; don’t let us have any more upsets. We’ll let Burtis play his game to-morrow, giving him the benefit of the doubt, and ask an explanation later. It’s a good thing we are all agreed that he isn’t really guilty, fellows, for if we weren’t we’d have no right to let him play; and if he didn’t play”—Payson shrugged his broad shoulders—“we’d be in a hole, to say the least. Merriwell, you keep this truck until it’s wanted. Put it away somewhere where it won’t be seen. Great Scott, I wish this hadn’t happened!”
“So do I,” muttered Merriwell.
“Will the fellows know the new signals all right, sir?” asked Davis anxiously.
“I think so. The change is slight. You see, I’m taking Raynor’s word for it that they haven’t tried to profit by that document. If I thought they had I’d have changed the whole code over; made a new set of signals right through. As it is, I’ve only altered them enough to safeguard us. Well, I must be off. Get to bed, Merriwell, and try to forget the whole thing. After all, we’re no worse off than we were, or but very little. I must drop in on Simms a minute. He’s the one who is probably having fits. Good night. Good night, Davis. Not a word about this!”
“Not a word, sir. Good night.”
“Look here, Charlie,” said Perky, after the door had closed behind the coach, “I just don’t believe he did it!”