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."