w plaguey well we'll get done up brown if you don't play--"

"We will anyway, I guess," interpolated Chub sadly.

"--And that isn't fair to the nine and the school. You've got to do
everything you can to win that game, Chub. You don't suppose that I mind
being out of it if we're going to win, do you?"

"But we need you, Roy! Who's going to play first?"

"Patten, of course; he can do it."

"He can't bat like you can."

"He'll do all right," answered Roy cheerfully. "Now you keep your mouth
shut, old man, will you?"

"I suppose so," Chub muttered. "But I hadn't ought to."

"Yes, you had, too. I'm not the main thing, Chub; there's the school."

"You're a brick," said Chub. "All right; I'll keep mum as long as you
want me to. But if you change your mind all you've got to do is to say
so and I'll do all I can with Emmy. Promise to tell me if you change
your mind?"

"Honor bright; but I sha'n't change it; I don't mind, Chub, as long as
we win."

"Win! Thunder, we aren't going to win! We're going to get everlastingly
walloped!"

"No, we're not," answered Roy hopefully. "We're going to win; you see."

"Look here," said Chub after a moment's silence, "you didn't poach on
Mercer and I didn't. Who the dickens did?"

"I can't imagine. I dare say it was some fellow from the village."

"With a crimson sweater on? Not likely. I suppose it couldn't have been
your sweater, eh?"

Roy shook his head.

"How do you know?" pursued Chub.

"'Cause mine was locked in my trunk."

"Sure?"

"Certain."

"Someone might have had a key that fitted the lock, though."

"They might have, but--" Roy paused and scowled thoughtfully. "Come to
think of it, Chub, my trunk wasn't locked yesterday afternoon. I
remember now. I locked it after we got back."

"Was the sweater there?"

"I didn't look."

Chub whistled softly.

"Bet you anything some fellow swiped it and wore it," he declared.
"Let's go see if he put it back."

They hurried up to the dormitory and Roy unlocked his trunk, threw back
the lid and opened the till.

"I thought I left it here on top," he muttered, diving through the
contents of the till. "Maybe I put it underneath, though." Out came the
till and out came most of the contents of the trunk. But there was no
crimson sweater. Roy turned to Chub in distress.

"I don't care if they took it," he said, "but I hope they'll bring it
back! I wouldn't lose that sweater for anything!"

"Lock your trunk again," s