“Thanks,” Pat answered, looking rather embarrassed. “I-I guess we won’t. Next time, maybe.”
“Then we’ll count out your share of the receipts—”
“Skip it,” Pat growled. He moved quickly away.
In leaving the gymnasium, Dan saw Chub talking to the strange man who earlier had drawn his attention. As he came up, the two separated. Chub waited for him, his face troubled.
“Anything wrong, Chub?” Dan inquired.
Chub shook his head. “Only that I lost the game for the Cubs.”
“No such thing,” Dan said cheerfully. “Was it your fault Chips came down with the measles? Anyhow, I thought you played your very best game.”
“Did you?” Chub brightened. “I tried awfully hard.”
“Anything else bothering you?”
“Well, that man—he was asking me such funny questions.”