“That’s what I was thinking,” Colonel Chamberlain agreed. “Paying crowds are what you need right now. You’ll get that extra five hundred dollars in plenty of time. All you need is advertising.”
“Leave that to me.” Johnny was on his feet, ready for a dash home. With the aid of the thought-camera, he would dish up plenty of fancy advertising.
“All right,” Doug agreed, “you look after that. I’ll get in touch with the Fairfield bunch. See if they’ll stand for this electric umpire.”
“They’ll stand for it right enough,” the Colonel said with a smile. “They get a percentage of the gate receipts. Just talk publicity to them and they’ll agree readily enough.
“Well—” his tone became brisk. “Council of war is over. I’ll have my pitcher on hand for Saturday’s major attraction. And you, Goggles, you’ll take care of Wednesday. Meeting’s adjourned.”
With a “Thank you, thank you a lot!” the three boys filed out of the office.
“Well,” Doug sighed, “we didn’t see him after all.”
“See who?” Johnny was once more lost in his contemplation of the immediate future.
“The pitcher, of course,” Doug grumbled. “Fellow’d think he was just an ordinary person.”
“Well, perhaps he is,” Johnny chuckled.