His leader took the shoe, ran his hand into it, and looked into it.
"Oh, shame! shame!" he exclaimed with a wrathy face. "Whoever did this deserves to be tarred and feathered."
"What is it?" inquired Frank.
"An old trick among touts and welchers. Just feel, Jordan—some one got into the gym last night and doctored these shoes."
"Doctored the shoes?" repeated Frank vaguely.
"Yes, they set in a light cushion sole, with a half dozen blade-pointed brads under it that would break through after a little use. It's a wonder that Upton's foot isn't ripped to pieces."
"It feels pretty near as if it was," said Bob, wincing. "Frank, I guess I'm crippled for a few days. You'll have to help me get to our room."
There were dark frowns of indignation and suspicion among the group. The Banbury crowd were making off with glum faces and uneasy haste.
"Stop!" sharply shouted Ritchie after them. "I accuse nobody, but I want to say right here and now, and I want everybody to hear me, that I'm going to ferret out the low sneak who put those brads in Bob Upton's shoes. When I do, he leaves this school or I do, and one of us will have reason to remember the drubbing of his life."
"They're a fine set, aren't they?" spoke Pur-
