“No,” said Joe. “I only saw the truck. I was too busy trying to get the car out of the way to notice the driver.”
“Well, I saw him,” said Jim. “That is, I saw part of him. He had his coat drawn up and his cap pulled down so as to hide his face. But I caught sight of the biggest pair of lob ears I ever saw on any man. Does that mean anything to you?”
“Lemblow!” exclaimed Joe.
“Lemblow,” assented Jim. “And probably the rest of the gang were in the truck back of him. I tell you, Joe, those fellows are out to do you. They failed in their first attempt, and so they tried this.”
“And they came mighty near putting this across,” said Joe. “But how on earth did they know we were going on this ride? We didn’t mention it to anybody.”
“No,” agreed Jim, “not directly. But when we first spoke of it yesterday afternoon, we were on the clubhouse steps. Iredell was still in there, dressing, and the door was open.”
“By George, you’ve hit it!” cried Joe. “Jim, the time has come for a showdown. We won’t wait till the end of the season. We may not see the end of the season if this kind of thing is allowed to go on. I’m going to get even with those scoundrels before we leave Pittsburgh.”
“I’m with you till the cows come home,” declared Jim. “I’m aching to get my hands on them. But how are you going to do it?”