“Oh, I see,” replied Joe, but he was wondering who the man was, and how the fellow came to know that he was in Fayetteville.
“Hope I didn’t take you away from the game,” began the man with what he evidently meant for a pleasant smile. Yet, somehow Joe did not like that smile. The man seemed to have a shifty glance and Joe mistrusted him.
“Oh, the game is over,” answered the young pitcher. “I didn’t play in the last part. But what is the matter? Is my mother or father ill?”
“It’s nothing serious,” spoke the man. “No one is ill. I came to get you about your father’s patents.”
“Oh!” exclaimed Joe. He felt a sensation of relief until he realized the danger that threatened his father’s inventions. Then he asked: “What’s wrong? Is Mr.——” Then he stopped for he did not know whether or not to mention names to this stranger.
“I can’t give you any particulars,” said the man with another smile. “All I can say is that they engaged me to come and get you to save time.”
“Who engaged you?” asked Joe.
“Your father,” replied the man. “He sent me off in a hurry and said I’d find you at this game. I sent you in the note by the lad. Your father had no time to write one, but you are to go to him at once. He wants you to help him about the patent models I think. We’d better hurry.”
Joe’s suspicions vanished at once. He knew his father was preparing to send on some models to Washington and now probably some need of haste had arisen necessitating his aid. He climbed up into the carriage, and though he noted at the time that the rig did not seem to be from the local livery stable, which had only a few, he thought nothing of it then.
The man flicked the horse with the whip and the animal started off on the jump. Just outside the ball grounds there was a private road leading into the main one. On reaching the chief thoroughfare the man turned north whereas, to reach Riverside, he should have gone south.