“Burtis?” Merriwell shrugged his shoulders wearily. “There’s the evidence.” He nodded at the littered table.
“Then he was fooled; someone got at him! He—he isn’t that sort, and you know it. Look here, they can’t make him captain with this thing hanging over his head, Charlie!”
“I don’t think he had a show anyway, Perky. Crandall’s the man for the job. I shall propose Crandall.”
“We-ell, yes, Howard’s all right, but——”
“But what?”
“Well, there are a lot of the fellows want Burtis,” replied Perky frankly. “It’s too bad.”
“Oh, never mind about who’s the next captain,” exclaimed Merriwell crossly. “What we’ve got to do now is to win to-morrow’s game! Good night!”