That something of an unusual nature had brought the colonel from Gold Hill that afternoon Merriwell was positive. And that it might prove as interesting as it was unusual was evident from the colonel’s manner.
“What’s in the wind, colonel?” queried Ballard curiously. “Clancy, here, is feeling like a castaway on a two-by-four island. If he can’t have a little healthy excitement before long, his pranks will probably get us all into trouble.”
“I’ve got everybody in a sweat around this hotel,” said Clancy; “that is,” he added, “with the kind assistance of Chip and Pink.”
“We’re all in it,” acknowledged Merry. “But what sort of a proposition have you got, colonel?”
“Darrel suggested the idea last night,” returned the colonel, “and it struck me as being a pretty good one. How long before you’re going to leave this part of the country, Merriwell?”
“As soon as the professor and Mrs. Boorland get the money for that mine. The check has to come from the East.”
“Do you think you’d have time to match an Ophir nine against a team from Gold Hill? This would be a very pleasant diversion, it seems to me, and I know it would be highly enjoyed by all the fans in both towns.”
“Bully!” exclaimed Clancy, all enthusiasm on the instant.
“Now you are shouting, colonel!” seconded Ballard, with equal zest.
“Fine idea, colonel!” said Merriwell. “All the big teams go South for their spring practice, and here in southern Arizona we’ll be getting ahead of them by two or three months.”