"I believe I've got a good clew; I admit that, Mark."
"Were you over there again?" demanded the other.
"Now you're referring to where you lost your old cap, I take it?" Elmer said in a noncommittal way.
"That's just what I mean—over on the bank of the Sunflower, where Lil Artha began kidding me, and in consequence my cap fell off. You rode over on your wheel, didn't you, Elmer?"
"Well, yes, I did," the other admitted; "but not like you, to look for the cap, because at the time I went I happened to know it had been found, and you had it at home."
"Then why should you bother going all that way over a rough path? Hold on, let me change that question, because I see why you wanted to look over the ground. Did you find anything there to tell you who picked that cap up?" and Mark looked directly in the face of his chum.
"If I did you needn't expect that I'm going to tell you about it till I'm good and ready," laughed Elmer. "And that will be inside of twenty-four hours, perhaps. This is Saturday, and by Monday night I hope I'll be in a position to show you something interesting. Just bottle up till then, my boy. And now there's the scrub team going out, so we have lost the toss and must take our first turn at bat."
Mark knew that it would be useless trying to urge his chum to relent. Elmer no doubt had some good reason for holding off longer. So, although he was very anxious to learn the solution of the mystery connected with his cap, Mark put the matter out of his mind for the time being and prepared to play ball.
The game was, as before, hotly contested.
Johnny Kline, as captain of the scrub, bent every energy to beating the regulars, and pitched as he had never done before. But Elmer was also in fine fettle on this bright Saturday afternoon. His speed was better than ever; and when in pinches he floated the ball up in one of those tantalizing drops, he had the heaviest slugger guessing and beating the air in a vain attempt to connect.