“The only regret I have,” announced Sam, “is that I didn’t have a chance to strike out Mort Prince. I have a feeling that it was he who got up the scheme.”
“What are you going to do to him, Phillips?” asked Midget Green eagerly. Sam smiled gently.
“I’m going to bite his head off, kid. Want to see it?”
“I’d do something if it was me,” answered Midget with an appalling scowl.
“Oh, there’s no use being grouchy about it,” said Smythe. “Everything goes in a Towner game. And after all, we licked ’em.”
“Shucks,” said Sam, “I don’t hold any grudge. They were too smart for me and I got what was coming. I ought to have had my eyes open. I don’t see now why I didn’t suspect something when Chesty insisted on going home to change nags. I was an idiot, that’s what I was, fellows!”
“On the other hand,” mused Truesdale, “since they tried kidnapping this time there’s no knowing what they may do next year. Steal the diamond, like enough!”
Sam didn’t see Chester again until Monday morning. Then he ran into him in the corridor of School Building. Chester smiled in a doubtful way, as though he was not at all certain whether Sam was going to cut him dead or punch his head.