And then, most unexpectedly, the clock came back, as it had done once before. Wallops, the messenger, brought it.
"I found it down in the furnace room," he explained. "It was on top of one of the boilers."
"Well, for the love of tripe!" cried Tom. "How in the world did it get there?"
"Our unknown visitor put it there," declared Frank. "Maybe he thought we were on his track, and he took this method of getting rid of the damaging evidence."
And they had to let it go at that—at least for the time being, for all their inquiries came to naught.
"Everyone who wants to try for the varsity eight come down to the river this afternoon," was the notice Captain Simpson posted on the bulletin board the next day. He and the coach had had a conference, and it was decided to try and definitely settle on the crew for the first boat. Then the second choice could be made, and some practice races arranged.
In order to be absolutely fair, Mr. Lighton and Mr. Pierson shifted about those who had been rowing together. I mean Tom and the seven lads with whom he was more closely associated than with any others—Sid, Phil, Bricktop Molloy, Frank, Holly Cross, Dutch, and Kindlings. Jerry was kept as coxswain in the new
