“He sure was good!” Johnny agreed. “And no one bothered him today. That airplane did not come back.”
“But it will,” a voice seemed to whisper in his ear. “You wait! Mystery wings!”
CHAPTER XII
THE VANISHING CHINAMAN
On his way home Johnny met Goggles. “Great work, Goggles!” he exclaimed with enthusiasm. “That stunt of yours sure drew a crowd.”
“Ye-a,” Goggles said with a drawl. “There was a time, though, when it looked as if the old ump and I’d be mobbed. That Fairfield bunch played a mean trick on us. Ought to be thrown out of the League.”
“Oh I don’t know.” Johnny paused for thought. “You couldn’t prove a member of their team did it. We licked ’em good and plenty. That should be enough. Anyway, they don’t stand high in the League. Centralia—there’s the team we’ve got to watch out for!”
“Say!” Goggles’ big eyes bulged. “I think Hop Horner and I have got a new pitcher for you.”
“A new pitcher?” Johnny stared. “What’s the matter with the ‘Prince’?”
“Nothing. Only—” Goggles’ voice dropped to a low, mysterious note, “this pitcher’s different.”
“He’ll have to go some if he’s as different as the ‘Prince.’”