CHAPTER IV.
The Traitor Gets His Deserts Mr.Morton hesitated a moment, ere he trusted himself to speak.
"Yes," he murmured.

"I fear we all suspect the same young man." "Phin Drayne!" cried Dave, in a voice quivering with anger.
"I didn't intend to name him," resumed the coach.

"It's a serious thing to do." "To sell out one's school---I should say 'yes'!" choked Darrin.
"No; I meant that it is a fearful thing to accuse anyone until we have proof that can't be disputed," added Mr.Morton gravely, though his muscles were twitching as though he had been stricken by palsy.
"Listen," begged Dick, "while Mr.Jarvis tells you all he knows of this dastardly business." The Tottenville captain repeated his short tale.

Then Coach Morton asked several rapid questions.

But there was no more to be told than Dick Prescott already knew.
"I'm tremendously sorry about that envelope," protested Jarvis.
"I'd give anything to be able to hand that envelope over to you, but I'm afraid I'll never see it again." "We appreciate your anxiety to help, Mr.Jarvis, as deeply as we appreciate your manliness in coming to us without an instant's delay," replied Mr.Morton, earnestly.
At this moment the office boy entered with the mail sack.
"Mr.Pollock!" he bellowed, tossing the sack down on the editor's desk.