"Easy now," cautioned Simpson, in calm tones. "Tom, you dropped your partner's card a while ago, didn't you?"
"Yes!" The end was beginning to understand now.
"I happened to be standing behind a pillar," went on Frank, "when I saw Langridge pick it up. I saw him erase a name and substitute another, but I thought nothing of it at the time, as lots of the fellows had girls' cards, filling them out. Then I saw Mr. Langridge hand the dance order to a friend of his, who started toward you with it, Tom, just as you discovered your loss."
"Gerhart—he handed it to me!" gasped Tom. "I see now! Langridge, you"
"He tried to play a sneaking trick, and was caught at it!" broke in Simpson. "Now, Mr. Langridge, I'd advise you to leave this dance!" and the voice of the big Californian grew stern as he looked full into the eyes of Langridge.
Without a word, but with a glance of hate at Tom, the bully swung around and crossed the room, threading his way amid the dancers.
"Thanks, old man!" exclaimed Tom, fervently, to Frank. "You save us—saved Miss Clinton—an unpleasant time."
"Indeed you did," spoke Ruth, holding out her little hand. "I don't know how I can repay you. I did not look at my card when Tom handed it
