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THE EIGHT-OARED VICTORS

"Yes. I banged on his door."

"Banged on his door?"

"Yes, by accident. You see I was exercising to keep warm."

The three paused and looked at each other. Clearly they did not understand.

"Look here, Tom," began Frank in a gentle, soothing voice. "How long have you been this way? Did it come on suddenly, or are you subject to these fits? Have you seen a doctor? Don't you think we'd better wire your folks? Maybe If you lie down it will wear off. Isn't it sad, and him so young, too!" and he sighed in mock distress.

"Look here, you chump!" cried Tom indignantly. "You think I'm stalling; don't you? But I'm not. Here's how it happened," and he told of the circumstances, and of his suspicions against Sid.

"And while I was waiting for him—as I thought—to come out of that room upstairs," he went on, "I got chilly. So I exercised. My elbow banged on Simond's door, and he opened the oak. Then I had to explain."

"That's a rich one!" declared Phil.

"He must have thought you were crazy!" said Frank.

"Exercising at that hour of the night!" exclaimed Sid. "This is too good to keep!" and he laughed outright.