CHAPTER XXIX
A STRANGE DISCOVERY
The _Kappa Delta_ dance was a brilliant affair. Phil took Madge, andvery charming she looked in a new gown of--oh, well, what differencedoes it make what her dress was like, anyhow? Besides, I don't knowwhether it was bombazine or chiffon, and the more I try to describe itthe worse I will get tangled, so if you'll take my word for it, as wellas Phil's, who ought to know, she looked very pretty indeed. The girlssaid she was "sweet," whatever that means.
"Isn't Ruth coming?" asked Phil of his partner after the first waltz.
"Why, I thought so," answered Madge slowly. "She was getting ready tocome when I left."
"Who with?"
"I don't know. Didn't she tell you?"
"She never does," replied Phil. "I thought you'd know."
"Well, I usually do, but this time Ruth was quite mysterious about it."
"There she comes now!" exclaimed Phil, looking toward the entrance tothe ballroom. "Who's that with her?"
"I can't see. She's in front--why, it's Tom--Tom Parsons!" added Madgequickly.
"Tom!" exclaimed Phil. "The sly beggar! He was going to take her all thewhile, yet he pretended to be jealous because I said I was going totake----"
He stopped in some confusion. Madge looked at him quickly.
"Was he--was he jealous about me?" she asked softly.
"He pretended to be," said her partner.
"Only pretended? How ungallant of you!" she cried gaily, yet there wasmore meaning in her tones than Phil was aware of. "Why don't you say hewas madly jealous of me; and that you two quarreled dreadfully over me?"
"Well, I s'pose I could say it," replied Phil slowly, "but you see----Let's try this two-step," he interrupted, glad of the chance to get outof an awkward explanation.
"I was going to wait and speak to Ruth," said Madge.
"Later will do," answered Phil, and they swung out on the polished floortogether.
"You frowsy beggar, why didn't you tell me you were going to bring mysister?" cried Phil to Tom, when the two-step finished and the four hadcome together.
"I wasn't sure she'd go," replied Tom in a low voice, and Phil missedthe usual friendly note in his tones. "Will you come down and have anice?" he asked Ruth, and before Phil could say anything more Tom had ledhis fair partner away.
"Hang it all! There's something the matter with Tom!" thought honestPhil as he looked at Madge. "I'll have it out with him when this affairis over. We can't let girls come between us."
It was late when Phil got back to his room, after taking Madge home. Sidwas asleep, and the quarter-back moved about softly, so as not todisturb him, for Sid had foresworn such dissipations as fraternitydances. Just as Phil was about to get into bed, Tom came in.
"Say, old man," burst out Phil in a whisper, "what's the matter?"
"Matter?" asked Tom, as if greatly surprised.
"Yes, matter. You've been different ever since I told you I was going totake Madge to the dance. Now, am I trespassing on your preserves? If Iam, say so. But I thought you liked Ruth."
"So I do!"
"That's what I thought. I knew you used to go with Madge, but since----Oh, hang it all, I can't explain--I'm Ruth's brother, you know. But ifyou think I want to cut you out----"
"It's all right," broke in Tom with a forced geniality that Philnoticed. "Forget it, old man. Of course, you had a perfect right to gowith Madge. I dare say she'd a heap sight rather have you than me."
"I don't know about that," interposed Phil; "but I was afraid I wastreading on your corns."
"It's all right," repeated Tom quickly. "Fine dance, wasn't it?"
"Very. But are you sure----"
"Oh, dry up!" exclaimed Tom, more like himself. "Here's a letter Ruthgave me to give you. It's from your mother. Your sister meant to hand itto you at the dance, but she forgot. Came late to-night--or, rather,last night--it's morning now. She's a little better, it seems."
"That's good!" exclaimed Phil eagerly. "But I wonder why she didn'twrite to me."
"She couldn't manage but one letter, I believe Ruth said," went on Tomgently.
"Say, I wish you fellows would cut out that gab!" suddenly exclaimedSid, turning over in bed. "I want to sleep. I don't go out to dances,where there are a lot of silly girls, and then sit up all night talkingabout it."
"Get out, you grumpy old misogynist!" exclaimed Phil, shying a sofacushion at his chum. "Wake up and hear the glad tidings of the dance!"
"Glad pollywogs!" grumbled Sid. "Get to bed and douse the glim."
Which Phil soon did, as Tom showed no further inclination to talk.
In spite of Tom's assertions to the contrary, Phil could not helpfeeling that a coldness had sprung up between himself and his chum.That it was about Madge, Phil could not deny, yet he hesitated tospeak further of it to Tom.
"Maybe it will work itself out," he said to himself. "I hope so,anyhow."
Meanwhile, the time for the final and deciding championship footballgame was drawing closer. Randall and Boxer Hall were easily the two bestteams, not only in the Tonoka Lake League, but in that section of thecountry. Neither had done any remarkable playing, nor could it be saidthat their goal line had not been crossed, but the championship laybetween them. The practice was exacting and constant, and the 'varsityeleven was "as hard as nails," to again quote my friend, Holly Cross,who had an extensive sporting vocabulary. They were eager for thecontest.
Tom and Phil, between whom there was still a shadow of coldness, camewalking together from the gridiron. They were talking about a wing-shiftplay that had been tried with some success.
"I don't like the signal for it," said Phil. "It's too complicated, andthe other fellows may get on to it. I think I can work out a bettercombination. I'll use some of the old signal letters and numbers that wediscarded. I've got a copy of them in my room."
"Maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea," commented Tom. "I think, myself, thatthe signal takes too long to understand. It ought to be snappier."
"That's my idea. We'll see if we can't work out a better one."
Hurrying from the gymnasium, where they had changed their clothes, Tomand Phil went to their room. Sid was there studying. Phil went over tothe wall, where he had placed the new picture of Madge Tyler she hadgiven him, and took it down.
"That's right!" exclaimed Sid. "It's about time you removed some ofthese flags, banners, ribbons and other effeminate decorations. Startin, Tom, on your share. We'll get this room to looking right, after abit."
"Oh, I'm not taking it down," declared Phil as he removed the photographfrom the wall. He had had it placed in rather a heavy and deep goldframe. "I want to get my copy of the football signals--the ones wediscarded--from behind it," he explained. "I hid them there, as beingthe place least likely to be disturbed. I'm going to frame up a newsignal----"
He stopped suddenly, and looked first from the picture to the floor,and then from the floor to the picture.
"What's the matter?" asked Tom.
"The copy of the signals--it's gone," he said quickly. "I had itfastened to the back of the picture by a bit of wire."
"Are you sure?" inquired Sid, getting up from the old easy chair, andmaking a cloud of dust in the operation.
"Of course!" exclaimed Phil. "They're gone--some one must have taken thesignals."
Tom dimly recalled a certain scene he and Phil had witnessed, and alsoremembered the words of the coach when he had made a shift of thesignals. Phil looked at Tom. He was thinking of the same thing. SuddenlyPhil uttered a cry. From the deep, curved frame of the picture he heldup a small gold watch-charm.
"Look!" he exclaimed.
"A freshman charm!" spoke Sid slowly, as he recognized the deviceaffected by a certain first-year secret society.
"Whose is it?" asked Tom.
"There's no telling," replied Phil.
"Yes, there is," went on Sid. "They always have their initials on theback of the charm. Look and see."
Phil turned it over
.
"Whoever left this here must have taken the copy of the signals," hesaid slowly. "He probably took down the picture and removed the paper.In doing so the charm slipped from his watch-chain and fell in the deepframe. He must have held it about at his belt to bend up the wire, forit was stiff."
"Whose initials are on the back?" asked Tom in a low voice.
Phil looked at them.
"They are 'G. A. G.,'" he announced.
Sid reached for a college roster, and turned to the freshman class list.The room was strangely silent, not even the ticking of the alarm clockbeing heard, for it had run down.
"Well?" asked Tom.
"The only fellow with the initials 'G. A. G.' is Garvey A. Gerhart,"answered Sid.
A Quarter-Back's Pluck: A Story of College Football Page 29
