If he shows a black eye to-morrow, give me credit for one goal kicked, boys," replied the party addressed.
Bones Shadduck was lighting a match.
"Hello! What's that for?" asked Jack Eastwick.
"I picked up a hat just now, and the idea struck me that possibly there might be some more headgear lying around. We'd like to know who these pirates are, you see, and here's a chance to get a line on 'em," explained the other, as he bent low to scan the ground in the immediate vicinity.
"Matches—who's got any? Pass 'em around, fellows!" called Buster.
Immediately there was quite an illumination around that part of the road, half a dozen tiny torches burning at once, as eager eyes scanned the ground. Twice cries of satisfaction announced that a find had rewarded the search, but the supply of matches gave out, and, besides, it seemed that there were no more hats or caps to be gathered in.
"Three times, and out, boys! Now we'll be able to learn who some of the crowd must have been. I think I ought to nail this gay old cap. Nobody but Bill Klemm ever dared wear such a screamer as that," announced Lanky, holding the object of his derision aloft.
"And this looks like the hat I turned over to Jay Tweedle the time I accidentally knocked his off in
