He nodded. "I think so, but I can't be sure until it has been developed. I had a splendid chance. They stood just right and there was a fine opening through the bushes."
"It took you a long time," grumbled Bill. "I could have hit them with a rock easy."
"I was trying to hear what they were saying. I couldn't hear very well, but I think they are robbers or something."
"You bet they are robbers," said Skinny. "Didn't they steal my fried chicken?"
We didn't think much more about the men because we had important work on hand. The first thing we had to do was to eat dinner. That is always important, especially when your mother knows how to cook beefsteak that makes you crazy just to smell. After that came a ball game. Our nine, the "Invincibles," played a picked nine from Summer Street. We beat, 25 to 19.
I didn't see any of the boys again until in church, Sunday morning. When I went in Bill Wilson was there, looking so dressed up that I hardly knew him.
He saw me and motioned for me to come into his pew, but Ma wouldn't let me do it. Bill had something on his mind. It was easy to tell that. He looked excited, and every time I turned around he went through with all sorts of motions with his mouth, trying to make me understand what he wanted to say.
It bothered me. Every time the minister twisted up his face, trying to make us understand how important it was what he was saying, I'd think of Bill's mouth going back of me. I couldn't help it.
When at last we went into Sunday school he told me.
"Great snakes, Pedro!" said he, grabbing me by one arm. "Haven't you heard about it?"