opened the hole for me, Frank," spoke Sid, gratefully.
"I just had to open that hole," was the retort. "I felt that I'd tear those fellows limb from limb if they didn't give way, and"
"They did," finished Phil, with a laugh.
They had met their girl friends after the game, and had received their congratulations. Then had come a happy time, walking with them, then the feasting, and now our friends were on their way to their room.
"There are only two things that are bothering me," remarked Tom, thoughtfully.
"What's that—Langridge?" asked Phil. "Say, he must have felt sick when he got to where Sid was, and saw that it was a touchdown, all right! Did he hurt you, Sid?"
"Well, he knocked the wind out of me—that is, what there was left to knock. But I guess he didn't mean to."
"Oh, he meant it, all right," declared Tom. "But I wasn't thinking of Langridge. I was going to say that the two things that bothered me was the mystery of the chair and the clock."
"That's so," came from Phil. "I wonder who that fellow was, and how the deed came to be in his chair?"
"We must tell Prexy about it," decided Sid. "It may have a bearing on the case."
