And indeed it sounded good to everyone interested in the Hillcrest baseball team. The date of the game was set for the following Saturday. As Goggles had predicted, the thing became a headline story. Reporters were admitted to the evergreen grove for a demonstration. Everyone else was barred. Then Irons O went into seclusion; a seclusion however that was to prove not quite adequate for the occasion.
When the time came for calling the game every bleacher seat and all available standing space was packed. The fame of the mechanical pitcher was spread far and wide.
“It’s in the bag,” Johnny grinned broadly as he saw old Professor George tucking the day’s receipts, a fat wad of bills, into his pocket.
“Not yet,” Goggles warned. “Remember, we promised a perfect performance. ‘Nine full innings pitched by Irons O, or your money back.’ That’s the way the handbills were printed.”
For all this the young inventor wore a jaunty air as he marched out to the pitcher’s mound where his mechanical man awaited him.
Touching a button here, another there, he caused Irons O to bob his head from side to side, then let out a cry of defiance at the shouting throng. The crowd roared back its glee.
When this roar had subsided another reached Johnny’s ear. A huge bi-motored plane was circling to the landing field a half mile away. A shudder ran over him. He had not forgotten those “Mystery wings,” nor the two strangers who had done something terrible to the “Prince” on that other day. “Have trouble doing it to a mechanical pitcher.” He laughed in spite of himself.
Ten minutes later, as the players took their place on the field, Johnny saw three men in aviation caps crowding toward the front.
“Wonder who they are and what they want?” he thought to himself. Something seemed to tell him that their arrival was important. Why? He could not tell.
The great moment came at last, and “Irons O pitching!” the megaphone announced at the end of the line-up.