-you really
don't?" persisted Dave Darrin.

"I don't know," Dick declared flatly.

"You've a suspicion, just the same," asserted Greg Holmes, dryly.

"Possibly."

"Who was it, then?" coaxed Greg Holmes.

"Was it Fred Ripley?" shot out Dave Darrin.

"Will you fellows keep a secret, on your solemn honor, if I tell
you one?" Dick questioned.

Dave and Greg both promised.

"Well, then," Prescott admitted, "I'm convinced in my own mind
that it was Fred Ripley that I had hold of for an instant tonight.
But I didn't see his face, and I can't prove it. That's why
I'm not going to tell about it. But this fellow wore lavender
striped trousers, just like a pair of Fred's. There is just
a chance or two in a thousand that it wasn't Ripley---and I'm
not going to throw it all over on him when I can't prove it.
Fellows, I know just what it feels like to be under suspicion
when you really didn't do a thing. _It hurts---awfully_!"

CHAPTER XI

THE WELCOME WITH A BIG "W"

Ben Badger sat perched aloft among the bare, spreading branches
of a giant maple near one corner of the school grounds. The maple
stood at the curbing of the sidewalk.

Down below stood nearly a hundred High School boys of Gridley.

That Ben was on sentry duty was apparent from the eager looks
that those below frequently cast up at him. At times, too, the
general impatience sought relief in questions hurled at Ben.

Finally, from the lookout aloft came down the rousing hail:

"Here he comes! fellows! Here he comes! No---here _they_ come!
The whole crowd---Dick & Co.!"

A flutter passed through the crowd below, vet not one of the Gridley
H.S. boys stirred from the ranks just within the school yard gate.

Back on the main steps of the High School building nearly three
score of the young ladies were irregularly grouped. They were
silent, but expectant.

For "The Blade" had been read in many a Gridley home that morning.
The news had traveled fast over Gridley. Though the paper had
contained no announcement that Prescott would return to school,
every High School boy and girl had felt sure of that.

Down the street, three abreast, came Dick & Co., with proud, firm
stride. Very likely the partners were even more exultant than
was Prescott himself.

Then the freshman sextette came in full sight from the gateway.

"Who's this?" yelled Ben Badger in his loudest voice.

From the crowded tanks below welled up the chorus:

"Dick & C