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stood before his rival, waiting. It was quiet in the little room, so quiet that the ticking of the alarm clock sounded loud. Outside could be heard the tramp of feet in the corridor, students going to and fro. Langridge glanced nervously at the door. He was plainly afraid lest some one should enter and find him there.

It was a hard problem for Tom to solve. The appeal of the lad who had done much to injure him moved him strongly. He knew what it would mean to Langridge not to pitch—that he would be out of athletics for the rest of his college course. If Tom gave way in his favor, it would mean his rehabilitation and for Tom only a temporary loss of prestige.

"Will you do it?" asked Langridge softly.

Tom did not answer. He paced up and down the room. What ought he to say? He felt that he could afford to sacrifice his own interests—could even forego the high honor of pitching in what was the greatest game of the college year—for the