“You know the ‘Prince’?” Johnny was surprised.
“Talked to him twice. He isn’t half bad,” admitted Goggles modestly.
“Who said he was? I think he’s great!” Johnny put his cap on. “All right. Got to get going. See you later.”
Back in his own room, Johnny drew two objects from his pocket and examined them.
Then he closed his eyes. “The eagle soared and dropped,” he murmured. “So did the airplane. The eagle got a rabbit. The airplane got a man. It was no accident that the ‘Prince’ had to give up pitching. I know why he did—and—and I can almost prove it.
“Those two men,” he said slowly, “have it in for the ‘Prince.’ I wonder why? They’ll do something more. I wonder what?
“One thing’s sure,” he said stoutly, “I’m for the ‘Prince’ a hundred percent!”
CHAPTER XI
WHAT AN EYE!
That evening Johnny sat on his grandfather’s porch staring at the moon and allowing the events of the past few days to glide across his memory as a panorama glides across a picture screen.
It was strange! Here he was in the quiet little city of his grandfather. He’d been here many times before. Nothing unusual had happened; but now there was the little Chinaman who apparently had been seen by no one but himself and who was now being sought by detectives. And there was the thought-camera. He wondered whether the little man was still in town, but had no desire to visit the spice shop to find out for sure—at least not in the dark. He recalled C. K.’s words, and shuddered afresh.