"Oh, don't make any bones about it," urged his fellow player. "You might as well say it as think it. You imagined I had been in there, playing some sort of a joke on you."
"Yes, I did," admitted Tom. "Our clock was returned mysteriously to-night, and the one left in its place was taken away. The other night we found a false key in our door, and now"
"Now you find a letter addressed to me!" interrupted Bascome. "I don't blame you for thinking it a bit queer, old man, but I'm not in the game. I've got other fish to fry. The way I suppose my letter got in you fellows' room, is that Wallops, or some of the messengers to whom Lenton gave it to be delivered to me, must have dropped it there."
"But Wallops nor none of the messengers would have a right to go into our room while we were out," declared Tom.
"Oh, you can't tell what those fellows would do," asserted Bascome, easily. "I'll wager that's how it happened. Ask Wallops. I'm out of it, anyhow. I wasn't in your shack, and you can't make that too strong when you report back to Phil and Sid."
"I will," promised Tom, somewhat nonplused at the outcome of the affair. He had been sure that something would come of the connection be-
