“What’s the matter with you?” he queried. “Have you gone daffy?”
“Not exactly,” replied Jim. “I thought I saw somebody I knew go past the door.”
“Likely enough,” said Joe, with a touch of sarcasm. “It wouldn’t be at all surprising. The hotel is full of our fellows.”
“It wasn’t one of our boys,” returned Jim slowly.
“Well, who was it then?” asked Joe, a little impatiently. “Come out of your trance, old man.”
“I think it was a fellow we know only too well,” Jim replied. “I think it was Braxton.”
“Braxton!” exclaimed Joe with sudden interest. “The fellow that was with us on the World Tour?”
“The same one,” affirmed Jim. “The fellow you licked within an inch of his life in the old Irish castle.”
“Are you sure?” asked Joe. “It doesn’t seem at all likely that we’d run across that rascal in this little training-camp town. What on earth would he be doing down here?”