"All right," assented Hiram. "So Joe Matson made trouble for you, too, eh?" he went on to Sam, curiously.
"Yes, he played a mean trick on me, and took my place as pitcher," which wasn't exactly true, as my old readers know. "I'd like to get square with him some way," concluded Sam.
"Say, so would I!" exclaimed Hiram eagerly. "Shake hands on that. He's a low sneak, and he played a mean trick on me. I'd do anything to get even."
"Maybe we can," suggested Sam.
"How?"
"Oh, lots of ways. Come on over here where no one will hear us. Maybe we can fix up some scheme on him. I'd give a good deal to get even."
"So would I," added Hiram. "I wish I could get him off the nine, and out of the school."
"I'll help you," proposed Sam eagerly; and then the two, who were very much of a kind when it came to disliking our hero, walked off, whispering together.
"Play ball!" came the distant cry of the umpire, and the great Excelslor-Morningside game was about to start. But the plotters did not turn back to watch it.
