for your manly conduct in bringing this thing straight to me."

"Why, that's almost insulting," retorted Jarvis quizzically.
"Why shouldn't an American High School student be a gentleman?
Wouldn't you have done the same for me, if the thing had been
turned around?"

"Of course," Dick declared hastily. "But I'm glad that this fell
into your hands. If we had gone into the game, relying on this
signal code-----"

"We'd have burned you to a crisp on the gridiron," laughed Jarvis.
"But what earthly good would it do our school to win a game that
we got by clasping hands with a sneak and a traitor? Can any
school care to win games in that fashion? But now, I'm off for
'The Blade's office---if your Mr. Pollock doesn't throw me out."

"He won't," Dick replied, "I'm a member of 'The Blade' staff."

"Don't go back into assembly room with a face betraying as much
as yours does," whispered Captain Jarvis, over his shoulder.

"Thank you for the tip," Dick responded.

When young Prescott stepped back into the general assembly room
his face, though not all the color had returned to it, wore a
smiling expression. He stepped jauntily, with his head well up,
as he moved to his seat.

For fifteen minutes or more Dick made a pretense of studying his