ed that Jones was really serious,
and he felt that there must be some cause for it.

Harry, strangely sobered and silent, sat listening. He could not
understand Jones, and he was on his guard, knowing how often the fellow
turned into a farce what seemed a serious matter.

Dismal locked his fingers and twiddled his thumbs. He cleared his
throat and then said:

"Merry, what would you say if I were to tell everything I could find out
about our crew to the sophs?"

"I should say you were a confounded sneak!"

"Hum! I kinder thought you'd say something like that."

"But you do not know too much about the crew."

"I know something, and I could know more if I had a mind to. All I would
have to do would be to play the spy a little."

"Well, I suppose that is right. What about it?"

"Somebody is playing the spy."

"How do you know?"

"I've got it straight enough, for the sophs know all about what our crew
is doing. They are laughing over the Oxford stroke and the English
oars."

"How do you know this?"

"Heard 'em."

"When?"

"To-night."

"Where?"

"On the street. Browning and a party were going down to Morey's, and
they were having a high old time with Hartwick, who was explaining the
advantages of the stroke and the oars our crew has adopted."

"That's not proof that somebody has played the spy. It may have slipped
out through the carelessness of some of our men."

"It may. But I don't think so. I heard Emery ask Hartwick how he knew so
much about us."

"What did Hartwick say?" Frank eagerly asked.

"He said he had a nice fresh flat who thought it a fine thing to play
the spy and blab all he found out."

"Blay bluses--I mean blue blazes!" cried Harry, banging his fist down on
the table. "That's what makes me cot under the hollar! A man who would
do a thing like that will steal a sheep! I'd like to have the pleasure
of thumping him a few times--just a few!"

Merriwell was silent, a dark look on his face.

"It will not be healthy for the spy if I catch him," he finally
declared. "I'll make it pretty hot for him around here!"

"Which would be a highly commendable action," bowed Dismal.

"Have you any idea who would do such a low-down thing?" asked Harry.

"Sometimes we have ideas which we do not care to express."

"That's right; but in a case like this--confidentially--to us, you
know--"

"Well, if I say anything, it is to be strictly confidential."

"Sure!" cried Frank and Harry in a brea