“I heerd about it,” nodded Cole.
“When did you hear—in advance, or after it occurred?”
“I ain’t going to say nothing about that, either,” declared the Maplewood lad, with a show of uneasiness. “I know lots of things I won’t say nothing about.”
Although Dick questioned him in the cleverest manner, Cole persisted in his determination to remain silent on the subject of the trolley-car affair.
“But I want to tell you something that may help you some,” said Jack. “I want you to know it so you’ll be prepared for what you’re goin’ against this afternoon. Hammerswell means to beat you somehow, and he’s made plans to do it. He’ll have a tough crowd on hand to rattle you and bulldoze you. He’s got all the fellers around him to come to help him, and paid ’em, too. Then he sent for Fernald, and Fernald picked up a still tougher gang in Rockford. They’ll all be here in a bunch, and you want to look out for a lot of trouble. I promised to help them, but I won’t do it now. No, sir! Instead of helping them, I’m goin’ to holler for you. If I can do anything more than holler I’ll do it, you bet! But I’m afraid you’re goin’ ter lose the game. I’d like to see you win it now, but I don’t believe you can.”
“Well,” said Dick, “I’m obliged for this warning, at least. If we get a fair deal on the field, the crowd may hoot and yell as much as it likes. I don’t believe it can rattle the boys very much. We’ll be ready for hoodlumism, and the chances are that sort of business will simply serve to make the boys play harder.”
“I hope so, blamed if I don’t!” nodded Cole. “Now I guess I’ll go home and change my clothes. I wish I was goin’ ter play this afternoon, but I’m glad I ain’t going ter play agin’ you.”
A sudden idea came to Dick.
“Are you in earnest about wishing to play?” he asked. “Do you really want us to win?”
“Sure thing.”