ourselves gold medals," declared Phil. "I hear that Lighton and old Kindlings are having a consultation, and there may be a shift of some of the players."
"I hope he puts me on the other end," exploded Tom. "Bascome didn't support me at all to-day."
"Now, don't get to feeling that way over it!" cautioned Phil, quickly. "That spirit makes a team go to pieces sooner than anything else."
"Oh, I'm not going to disrupt the team!" declared Tom. "I think, though"
He stopped suddenly, and appeared to be listening. Phil sat up on the old sofa, and Sid looked questioningly toward the door.
"Someone's out in the corridor," he whispered.
"Yes," and Tom nodded. "Maybe they think we're out, and they're bringing back our chair."
"Or the clock," added Phil. Tom arose, and tiptoed toward the portal. Before he reached it, there came a cautious knock on the panel.
"Shall we answer it, or pretend we're not in?" he breathed to Sid. Then, without giving the latter time to answer, a voice called, in a hoarse whisper:
"I say, Tom, are you and the bunch in there?"
"It's Dutch!" spoke Phil, in his natural tone. "Come on in, you old scout! What's all the secret society business about, anyhow?"
