“That means you can’t go into the Duals, doesn’t it?” asked Dan. Arthur nodded.
“Yep. I bust my best pole yesterday and I was pretty sure then that something was going to happen; but I didn’t think of this. I thought Collins had forgotten all about that business.”
“But how the dickens did he find out?” wondered Alf. “And why doesn’t he know about the rest of us? Do you—do you suppose any one gave you away, Arthur?”
“I don’t believe so. Who would? Nobody knew but just the lot of us. I’ve been puzzling over it ever since.”
“You don’t suppose,” began Dan. He stopped and glanced at Alf. Alf frowned.
“Gerald? Of course not! Besides, what would be the use? And why tell on Arthur and not the rest of us? Besides, he wouldn’t do it.”
“No, of course he wouldn’t,” Dan agreed, with a sigh of relief.
“Oh, it wasn’t Gerald,” said Arthur. “I don’t know who it was. I guess Collins must have been doing some detective work.”
“That isn’t like him,” Alf objected. “He isn’t—isn’t sneaky you know. Perhaps, Arthur, he just suspected and took a chance.”
Arthur frowned. “He may have,” he admitted finally. “Well, anyhow, he got me for fair. And I’m out of the Duals after working like a slave all spring. That’s what riles me.”