“I—I—” Goggles’ head was whirling. “I’ll tell you in two hours, if—if I can.”
“All right. Meet us at the airport.”
“We sure will!”
“Here, Hop!” Goggles threw his tools on the ground as the man walked away. “You take old Irons O and put him to bed. I’ve got business, plenty of it.”
“I’ll say you have,” Hop agreed.
“Across the continent!” Goggles thought as he dashed wildly away. “Across the continent in an airplane. Ball games perhaps in Denver, Cheyenne, Salt Lake City, Seattle! Boy! Oh boy! And a bag of gold from every port for our ball field.”
But could they do it? His spirits dropped. “Can we? It—it seems almost impossible. And yet, somehow, we must. We just must!”
“Goggles,” Johnny said to him later that evening when everything had been settled that they were to start on that marvelous airplane cruise. “I don’t like the actions of that little dark man.”
“What little dark man?” Goggles asked in surprise.
“Didn’t you notice him? But of course you wouldn’t have.” Johnny went on to tell of the little man’s part in that day’s game.