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Left Guard Gilbert by Ralph Henry Barbour

Walton certainly did have a disagreeable manner


You fellows put up a great game, Harry."

"I didn't get into it for more than ten minutes. Robey's playing Don Gilbert for all he knows." Harry laughed disagreeably. "Robey's a bit of a fox."

"How's that!" Tom inquired.

"Oh, he's sort of keeping me guessing, you see. Thinks I'll get worried and dig harder."

"Huh. I see. You seem mighty certain of that place, Harry."

"Sure, I'm certain. You just wait and see, old top." Harry nodded and entered his room across the hall, leaving Tom a trifle more sympathetic toward Roy's estimation of him. Walton certainly did have a disagreeable manner, he reflected.

As a matter of fact, Harry hadn't been calling on anyone in Number 6 for the simple reason that he had found no one at home. Moreover, he had expected to find no one, for he had left Tim at the gymnasium and seen Don and Harry Westcott sitting in the window of the latter's room in Torrence as he passed. What he had done was leave a hastily scrawled note for Don on the table in there, a note which Don discovered an hour later and which at once puzzled and disturbed him.

"Come up and see me after supper will you," the note read, with a superb disdain of punctuation, "I want to see you. Important. H. Walton."


he want to see you about?" asked Tim when Don tossed the note to him to read.

"I don't know." Don frowned thoughtfully.

"I hope he isn't going to make trouble about that old business."

"What old business?" asked Tim carelessly, more interested in a set of bruised knuckles than anything else just then.

"Why, you know Harry saw us climbing in the window that night."

"Saw us climb--Well, what of it? That was years ago. Why should he want to make trouble about that? And how could he do it? I'd like to see him start anything with me."

"Oh, well, I just happened to think of that."

"More likely he's going to ask you to break a leg or something so he can get your place," chuckled Tim. "Don't you do it, Don, if he does. It doesn't pay to be too obliging. Ready for eats?"

"In a minute." Don dropped the note and began his toilet, but he didn't speak again until they were on their way down the stairs. Then: "If it should be that," he remarked, "I wouldn't know whether to punch his head or laugh at him."

"Don't take any chances," advised Tim grimly. "Punch his head. Better still, bring the glad tidings to me and let me do it. Why, if that idiot threatened to open his face about us I'd give him such a walloping that his own folks wouldn't recognise the remnants! Gee, but I'm hungry tonight! Toddle along faster and let's get there before Rollins and Holt and the rest swipe all the grub."

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