"
"That doesn't prove that it's been revived, all the same," objected
Trevor.
"No, friend; but this does. Mill found it tied to a chair."
It was a small card. It looked like an ordinary visiting card. On it,
in neat print, were the words, "_With the compliments of the
League_".
"That's exactly the same sort of card as they used to use," said
Clowes. "I've seen some of them. What do you think of that?"
"I think whoever has started the thing is a pretty average-sized idiot.
He's bound to get caught some time or other, and then out he goes. The
Old Man wouldn't think twice about sacking a chap of that sort."
"A chap of that sort," said Clowes, "will take jolly good care he isn't
caught. But it's rather sport, isn't it?"
And he went off to his study.
Next day there was further evidence that the League was an actual going
concern. When Trevor came down to breakfast, he found a letter by his
plate. It was printed, as the card had been. It was signed "The
President of the League." And the purport of it was that the League did
not wish Barry to continue to play for the first fifteen.
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