“Not the way I’ll work it.”
“Why not? Suppose you do manage to sneak in his room and get his goggles. He’ll miss them sure as fate, and send for another pair.”
“No he won’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because I won’t take them until Saturday morning, or just before the game, and it will be too late to get another pair. Or, better still, I can take out the special lenses that are in the frames, and substitute others. Then he won’t suspect anything, he’ll go to the box, pitch so rotten that Graydon will have to take him out, and you’ll go in. Bill won’t know whether it’s the glasses, or whether his eyes have gone back on him again. How’s that for a trick?”
“It’s all right I guess,” was the hesitating answer. “I rather hate to be a party to it,” went on the pitcher, who was not a bad chap at heart. “But—”
“But he had no right to come here and supplant you,” put in Bondy.
“No, that’s right. Well, can you get the glasses from his room?”
“Sure, and I’ll arrange to have other lenses to slip in them. I’ll get the size, and they’re easy to change. I was close to him to-day, and I saw how the rubber frames were made. I guess Bill won’t be such a wonderful pitcher when I get through with him,” and Bondy chuckled as he and his fellow conspirator turned around and walked back toward school.