There was a queer and rather puzzled look on Dick’s face.

“So Fred’s paying Tip money, and Tip knows it’s blackmail?” muttered the sophomore.  “That can mean just one thing then.  When Tip held his tongue before and at his trial, last year, he was looking ahead to the time when he could extort money by threatening Fred. And now Tip’s doing it.  That must be the way he gets his living.  Whew, but Ripley must be allowed a heap of spending money if he can stand that sort of drain!”

How Dick came to be on hand at the time can be easily explained.  Earlier in the evening he had been at “The Blade” office.  Mr. Pollock had asked him to go out on a news story that could be obtained by calling upon a citizen at his home.  The story would be longer than Dick usually succeeded in turning in.  It looked attractive to a boy who wanted to earn money, so the sophomore eagerly accepted the assignment.

As it happened, Dick had had to wait a long time at the house at which he called before the man he wanted to see returned home.  Dick was on his way to “The Blade” office when he caught sight of Tip Scammon.  The latter did not see or hear the sophomore approaching.

So Dick halted, darting behind a tree.

“Now, what’s Tip doing down here, near the Ripley place?” wondered Prescott.  “He must be waiting to see Fred. Then they must have an appointment.  Dave always thought that Tip ambushed me with those brickbats at Fred Ripley’s order.  There may be something of that sort in the wind again.  I guess I’ve got a right to listen.”

Looking about him, Prescott saw a chance to slip into a yard, get over a fence, and creep up rather close to Scammon, though still being hidden from that scoundrel.  At last Prescott found himself well hidden in the yard behind Tip.

So Dick heard the talk.  Now, as he hurried back to “The Blade” office the young soph guessed shrewdly at the meaning of what he had heard.

“Now, what had I better do about it?” Dick Prescott asked himself.  “What’s the fair and honorable thing to do—–­keep quiet?  It would seem a bit sneaky to go and tell Lawyer Ripley.  Shall I tell Fred?  I wonder if I could make him understand how foolish and cowardly it is to go on paying for a blackmailer’s silence?  Yet it’s ten to one that Fred wouldn’t thank me.  Oh, bother it, what had a fellow better do in a case like this?”

A moment later, Dick laughed dryly.

“I know one thing I could do.  I could go to Fred, tell him what I know, and scare him so he’d fall down in his effort to become the crack pitcher of the nine!  My, but he’d go all to pieces if he thought I knew and could tell on him!”

Dick chuckled, then his face sobered, as he added: 

“Fred’s safe from that trick, though.  I couldn’t stand a glimpse of my own face in the mirror, afterward, if I did such a low piece of business.”