Elmer Chenowith had put in rather a strenuous day, all told, what with that morning walk, the rescue of poor Toby from the tree top, and then nine full innings of warm work pitching during the afternoon hours.
But he fancied he did not feel half so used up as Toby, for instance, after his fall into the branches and vain struggles for release.
It was about eight o'clock when the telephone bell rang, and as he was alone in the library at the time, Elmer answered the call. To his surprise he recognized the voice at the other end of the wire as belonging to Colonel Hitchins, for once heard those smooth, even tones could never be mistaken.
"Is Elmer at home?" asked the gentleman.
"Yes, sir, this is Elmer talking with you," replied the boy, wondering immediately what could be wanted.
"Oh, is that so? How do you feel, Elmer, after your hard afternoon's work? I was much pleased with your pitching, and meant to tell you so, only I found myself called to town by a message from the head of the police; for it seems that by some bad management they let those two rascals slip through their fingers—the fellows who took my fruit, I mean. Are you dead tired, my boy?"
"Oh, not at all, sir. I took a bath as soon as I got home, and feel first-rate right now. Did you want me for anything in particular, colonel?"
"Well, I'm afraid you'll think me as impatient as any boy," laughed the gentleman, "but the fact is, that box I mentioned to you as coming from India has just arrived this evening, and I'm going to unpack it. I had an idea that if you weren't too tired, possibly you might like to jump on your wheel and come over to give me a little help."
"Of course I will, sir, and only too glad!" declared Elmer, for he knew about what that marvelous box was supposed to hold, and fairly itched to be on hand when its contents were exposed.
"But are you sure you are not worn out after that hard game?" persisted the old gentleman.