It was all flawlessly correct, too.
"Mr.Jarvis," said Dick, looking up, "you've been a gentleman in this matter.

This is our signal code, signal for signal.
It's the code on which we relied for our chance to give your team a thrashing on Saturday.

I thank you for your honesty, sir." "Why, I always have rather prided myself on a desire to do the manly thing," smiled Captain Jarvis.
"May I ask how this came into your possession ?" demanded Dick.
"It was in our family mail box, this morning, and I took it out on my way to school," replied Jarvis.

"You see, the heading on the first sheet shows that the document purports to give the Gridley signals." "And it does give them, to a dot," groaned Prescott, paling again.
"So I showed it to our coach, Mr.Matthews, and to some of the members of the team," continued Mr.Jarvis.

"I would have brought this to you, in any case, and I'm heartily glad to say that every one of our fellows agreed that it was the only manly thing to do." "You have won the Gridley gratitude," protested Dick.