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“You won’t see anything after supper,” gibed Joe. “You’ll be so full that you can’t see out of your eyes.”

“I’ll need a lot to keep me going,” explained Jimmy. “I’ve gone through more today than the rest of you fellows. Nobody hit you with a baseball in the pit of the stomach.”

“Sure enough,” laughed Bob. “I suppose that left a dent that you’ll have to straighten out. Well, so long, fellows. Come around if you can.”

It goes without saying that there was an increasing buzz of conversation around the supper tables in four Clintonia homes that evening. The boys were full of the afternoon’s adventures, and in response to eager questions were forced to tell over and over again the details of the accident. They almost forgot to eat in the excitement of the narrative. All, that is, except Jimmy. He never forgot.

After supper Herb conquered his desire for bed, and as Jimmy, belying Joe’s prophecy, could still see out of his eyes, the two went around to Bob’s home, where they found that Joe had preceded them.