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220 Such was evidently the intention of the former Randall bully. He was smiling at Phil's sister, who at first did not notice him. Langridge and Tom reached her at about the same time, and what was our hero's surprise to hear his enemy say:

"I believe this is our dance. Miss Clinton?"

She turned in astonishment, a wave of color surging into her fair face.

"Our dance—yours" she stammered.

"I have your name down on my card," went on Langridge calmly, "and I believe if you will look at yours that you will find mine on it."

Hastily Ruth caught up her dance order, which dangled from her fan. As she scanned the names, the color of her face deepened.

"Why—why—it—it is here," she murmured, "I did not know—Tom, did you"

"Most certainly not!" declared Tom, as emphatically as he could without attracting too much attention. "I think you are mistaken, Mr. Langridge," he added stiffly. "I booked no dance for Miss Clinton with you."

"Perhaps you had better look at the card," replied the bully, sneeringly.

Tom gave it a hasty glance. There was no doubt of it. There, in bold writing, on a line where he was sure he had scribbled his own name, was that of Langridge. It was the last dance but two, and Tom had the last one. He was also