“I think you’re a total loss as far as appearances are concerned,” Jim retorted. “Where’s your hat?”
Joe groaned and made a rush for the bathroom beyond. There he could examine his countenance for himself. To his intense relief he found that Reddy and McCarney had left no signs of their attack other than a rather large bump on the back of the head.
He was fingering this gingerly when Jim entered the room. In the mirror Joe caught sight of the worried expression his chum wore and grinned broadly. He was beginning at last to see the funny side of his adventure.
“I say, Joe,” Jim said, not returning his chum’s grin, “what’s up, anyway? You’ve run into something. Stop grinning and give me the story.”
“If you’ll wait till I get a bath and jump into some clean things, I’ll tell you the fool I made of myself—and more besides,” answered Joe, with a longing glance at the tub.
So, after he had splashed around in hot water that took the ache out of his bones and then splashed his face with cold water that assuaged the ache in his head, Joe told Jim the startling events that had taken place since his determination to follow Hupft and McCarney and find out what they were up to.
“Whew!” whistled Jim, as, a few minutes later, he watched Joe put on a clean collar. “You certainly did stage some little show all by yourself, didn’t you? Pity you couldn’t let a fellow in on it.”
“You ought to be glad I didn’t,” retorted Joe. “It was no nice party, I’m telling you.”
“But, say!” Jim went on excitedly. “This thing about Reddy and McCarney being in cahoots, joining hands in the great conspiracy stuff—what are you going to do about that?”