“Looks as if you didn’t want to root for the home team,” went on Ned as he followed his companion up the front walk.
“Oh, I’d like to root for them all right, and I’d like to see them win, of course,” answered Bob Dexter, as he closed the book he had been reading. But his chums noticed that he kept one finger in between the pages so he would not lose his place.
“Well, then, you’d better get a move on!” urged Harry. “They won’t keep club members’ seats for them much longer, and there’ll be a big mob there—this is the deciding game of the series.”
“Yes, I know,” said Bob, “but I’m not going!”
“Not going!” cried the other two, and there was much surprise in their voices.
“What’s wrong?” demanded Harry. “You aren’t soured on the club, are you?”
“Of course I’m not,” and Bob smiled. “I should have said I can’t go. I’ve got something to do.”
“What do you mean—finish that book—a detective story, I’ll stake a cookie on it!” exclaimed Ned. “I thought so!” he added, as he turned the book over in Bob’s hand and disclosed the title which was “The Strange Case of the Twisted Ear.”
“Say, look here!” broke in Harry, as he playfully snatched the book from Bob. “If you’re going to stay here and read one of your everlasting detective stories, when the most important club ball game of the season is being played—well, all I’ve got to say is that Ned and I won’t let you!”
“Atta boy! You let out an earful that time!” cried Ned.