“Silence!” cried Doctor Meredith, in a ringing voice.

The noise subsided.  Tom took his garment, and turned back to his seat.  As he passed Sam he looked him full in the face, and there was that in the glance which boded no good to that sneaking coward when the tables should be turned.

Had it not been in chapel, and had Tom not held himself well in hand, there might have been a session then and there that Sam Heller would not have liked.  His gaze quailed before the steady look of Tom, and as the latter sat down he heard Nick Johnson whisper to Sam: 

“Are you sure of what you saw, old man?  He might make trouble for you.”

“Of course I’m sure.  I saw him as plainly as I see you now.  He can’t bluff out of it.  I’ve got him just where I want him!”

“You think so, do you,” murmured Tom to himself.  “Well, we’ll see, Sam Heller!  I’ve got pluck enough to stand out against you, I think.  You can’t drive me from Elmwood Hall.”

“Young gentlemen, you are dismissed,” said the voice of Doctor Meredith, and the students filed from chapel to their various classrooms.

Jack and Bert made a rush for their chum as soon as they were outside the building.  Each grabbed an arm, while several of Tom’s other friends grouped about him.  But it was noticed that some, with whom he had been quite intimate, held aloof, and hurried away.  Tom was, but he only smiled.

Another group surrounded Sam Heller, some of whom had never troubled to make his acquaintance before.  But they were either curious to hear more of that of which he had spoken, or else were ready to enlist under his banner, as it were.

“By Jove this is bad!” half groaned Bruce Bennington, as he noticed the school split, in the ranks of Sophomores, more especially.  “There’ll be two factions among the second-year men now if something isn’t done to head it off.”

“That’s right,” agreed Reddy Burke.  “Confound Tom’s stubbornness, anyhow!  Why doesn’t he say if it was someone else who wore his thunder-and-lightning sweater?”

“Did someone?” asked Bruce, significantly.

“Of course he must have, and Tom is shielding him, I’ll wager.  You don’t s’pose he poisoned those horses; do you?”

“Well—­er—­Oh, of course not!”

“Then forget it.  Things’ll come out right sooner or later.”

“Later, I’m afraid.  And look at the damage that will be done in the meanwhile.”

“Well, it can’t be helped,” and Bruce and Reddy strolled away, not altogether happy.

“Tom, old man!” exclaimed Jack, slipping his arm about his chum, “what’s got into you, anyhow?”

“Nothing, Jack.”

“Then why don’t you come back at Heller and make him out the prevaricator he is?”

Tom did not answer.

“Aren’t you going to say anything?” demanded Jack.  “Are you going to keep quiet about that sweater?”