"You lied to the professor about us, saying we had a hand in it," declared Gill.
"Well, you've got me suspended, sent home, and I'll probably be expelled."
"You ought to be!" yelled Gill, as a twinge of pain made him howl anew. "It was you who got me sick smoking cigarettes and thought it was funny. Yes, and it was you, too," blabbed the mean-spirited traitor, "who put those brads in Bob Upton's shoes, so he would lose the race."
"What?" shouted Dean Ritchie. He made a vigorous break through the ranks of the crowd with the word. "The cat was out of the bag" at last, the secret told. Banbury saw the doughty Ritchie coming for him. He turned in a flash.
It was a race to the nearest school building. Banbury reached it first. The other boys, running after pursued and pursuer, arrived at the spot to find Banbury safe within the precincts of the classic temple of learning, and Ritchie fuming at the open doorway.
"I say, let up, Ritchie," suggested Frank. "We've had enough squabbling."
"Not a bit of it," demurred Ritchie. "No, sir. I said that if ever I found out who played that mean, low-down trick on Upton, the culprit or I would leave this school."
