“Why, is he any one you know?” inquired Anderson.
“I’m pretty sure I do,” replied Joe. “There aren’t likely to be two men named Fleming who want to do me up.”
“Do be careful now, Mr. Matson,” the old man urged. “I can’t bear to think of anything happening to you after all that you have done for me.”
“I’ll keep my eyes open,” answered Joe. “And I can’t thank you enough, Mr. Anderson, for the trouble you’ve taken to come and tell me about this.”
“It’s little enough,” answered Anderson. “I only wish I could do more. But I know you must be pretty busy just now, with the big game coming on, so I’ll just jog along. Hope you have luck to-day, Mr. Matson.”
He said good-bye and went away. After he had gone the two friends looked at each other very long and thoughtfully.
“What do you make of it, Joe?” asked Jim at length.
“Why, I hardly know,” replied Baseball Joe, slowly. “I wish the old man had been able to get something a little more definite. The only thing that seems clear is that that snake is trying to make trouble for me. But, pshaw! ‘Threatened men live long,’ you know, and I’m not going to worry about it.”
But Jim was not inclined to dismiss the matter so lightly.
“Do you think they might try anything like the drugged coffee game?” he inquired. “Hartley got away with that once on you, and it might be done again.”