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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/32044-8.txt b/32044-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..4d580a0 --- /dev/null +++ b/32044-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,7626 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Jimmy Kirkland and the Plot for a Pennant, by +Hugh S. Fullerton + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Jimmy Kirkland and the Plot for a Pennant + +Author: Hugh S. Fullerton + +Illustrator: Charles Paxson Gray + +Release Date: April 18, 2010 [EBook #32044] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK JIMMY KIRKLAND--PLOT FOR PENNANT *** + + + + +Produced by Al Haines + + + + + + + + + +[Illustration: Cover art] + + + + +[Frontispiece: "Now kick his shins"] + + + + + +JIMMY KIRKLAND + +AND THE + +PLOT FOR A PENNANT + + +BY + +HUGH S. FULLERTON + + + +ILLUSTRATED BY + +CHARLES PAXSON GRAY + + + + +PHILADELPHIA + +THE JOHN C. WINSTON COMPANY + +PUBLISHERS + + + + +Copyright, 1915, by + +JOHN C. WINSTON COMPANY + + +PRINTED IN U. S. A. + + + + + To + + CHARLES A. COMISKEY + + The man to whom, more than all others, the honesty + and high standard of professional baseball is + due, this little volume is dedicated with the sincere + regard of a student to his preceptor. + + + + +CONTENTS + + +CHAPTER + + I. PANTHERS OR BEARS? + II. A MIRACLE CALLED MCCARTHY + III. HOPE FOR THE BEARS + IV. "KOHINOOR" MEETS BETTY + V. THE TEMPTER + VI. ADONIS MAKES A DEAL + VII. MCCARTHY MEETS HELEN + VIII. IN THE DEEPER WATERS + IX. BALDWIN GETS INTO THE PLOT + X. WILLIAMS CAUGHT IN THE NET + XI. MCCARTHY IN DISGRACE + XII. MCCARTHY DEFIES BALDWIN + XIII. MCCARTHY BALKS THE PLOTTERS + XIV. "TECHNICALITIES" ON THE JOB + XV. BALDWIN BAITS A TRAP + XVI. MCCARTHY MAKES A CALL + XVII. THE FIGHT IN THE CAFÉ + XVIII. TWO MISSING MEN + XIX. SWANSON TO THE RESCUE + XX. HIDDEN FOES + XXI. FAIR PLAY + XXII. A VICTORY AND A DEFEAT + XXIII. KIDNAPPED + XXIV. BAITING A TRAP + XXV. MCCARTHY DISAPPEARS + XXVI. BALDWIN SHOWS HIS HAND + XXVII. SEARCHING + XXVIII. WILLIAMS STANDS EXPOSED + XXIX. FOUND + XXX. A RACE TO SAVE THE DAY + XXXI. THE PLOTTERS FOILED + XXXII. REJOICING + + + + +ILLUSTRATIONS + + +"NOW KICK HIS SHINS" . . . . . . . . . . . . Frontispiece + +BALDWIN STARED AT THE SLENDER YOUTH + +THE MEN LEAPED OUT + +"FOURTEEN MILES IN TWENTY-ONE MINUTES" + + + + +JIMMY KIRKLAND AND A PLOT FOR A PENNANT + + +CHAPTER I + +_Panthers or Bears?_ + +The defeat in the opening game of the final series of the season +between the Panthers and Bears had been a hard blow to the championship +hopes of the Bears, and its effect was evident in the demeanor of the +players and those associated with them. It was the second week in +September. Since early in May the Blues, the Panthers and the Bears, +conceded to be the three strongest teams in the league, had struggled +day by day almost upon even terms, first one team leading by a narrow +margin, then another, until the interest of the country was centered +upon the battle for supremacy. + +Then, with the Blues holding the lead by the narrowest of margins, +Maloney, their premier pitcher, strained his arm, and the Blues, in +despair, battled the harder only to overtax the strength of the +remaining pitchers, so that the team dropped rapidly into third place, +still hoping against hope to get their crippled pitching staff back +into condition for the finish. + +It seemed that the four-game series between the Bears and Panthers +probably would prove the crisis of the year's efforts, and decide the +question of supremacy. On the eve of the commencement of that series +the Bear hopes had received a shock. Carson, the heaviest batter, the +speediest base runner and one of the most brilliant outfielders in the +league, had fractured a leg in sliding to a base, and was crippled so +seriously that all hope of his recovery in time to play again that year +was abandoned. + +Until the day the news that Carson could not play again during the +season became public, the Bears had been favorites, but with their +hardest batter crippled, and Holleran, the substitute, known to be weak +against curve pitching, their hope seemed destroyed. Manager William +Clancy, of the Bears, his kindly, weather-beaten face wearing a +troubled expression, in place of his customary cheerful grin, was +investigating. The defeat of the Bears in the first game with the +Panthers had revealed to all the vital weakness of the holders of the +championship, and Clancy, as he sat nibbling the end of his penholder +in the writing room of the hotel, faced a discouraging situation. + +Across the table from him a slender girl, attired in a close-fitting +street gown, was writing rapidly, covering many sheets of hotel +stationery with tall, angular hieroglyphics as she detailed to her +dearest friend at home the exciting events of the day. + +"Betty," said Manager Clancy, looking up, "if you and Ellen are ever +going to get ready you'll have to start." + +"I'm ready now, Mr. Clancy," the girl responded brightly, lifting her +head until she revealed the perfect curve of her firm chin, and smiled, +"I left Mother Clancy in the rooms sewing on some buttons. She will be +ready soon." + +At that moment a slender youth, easy in movement, almost graceful in +his confident carriage, entered the hotel lobby. Something in his +bearing gave evidence that he was accustomed to association with +persons of refinement. His closely cropped, curling hair, sandy to the +point of redness, attracted attention to his well-formed head, set well +upon a pair of shoulders so wide as to give him the appearance of +strength, in spite of the slenderness of his waist and the lightness of +his body. His face was freckled and the uplift of his nose added to +the friendly impression created by his blue eyes. His clothes were +almost threadbare and his shoes were worn, but his linen was clean and +his appearance neat. The youth hesitated, glancing from group to group +of the players, as if trying to decide which one to approach. + +"Silent" Swanson, the giant shortstop, who had earned his nickname +because he was the noisiest player on the field, was standing talking +with "Noisy" Norton, the second baseman, so called because he seldom +spoke either on or off the field, and Adonis Williams, the star +left-handed pitcher of the team. The newcomer's eyes fell upon this +group, and his face lighted as he observed that Williams's hair was +only a shade darker than his own. As if deciding quickly, he walked +toward the group. + +"You are Williams, are you not?" he inquired easily, smiling in a +friendly manner. + +"That's my name, but most people add a mister to it," responded +Williams sneeringly. + +The red-headed youth flushed and the smile died out of his eyes. + +"I beg pardon, Mister Williams," he said, quietly; "I was seeking +Manager Clancy. Perhaps you can tell me where to find him?" + +"It isn't very hard to find Clancy," responded Williams. "We can't +lose him." + +"Perhaps you would be so kind as to point him out to me. I never have +had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Clancy." + +Neither of them had observed that Swanson and Norton had drawn aside to +permit the girl who had been in the writing room to pass on her way to +the elevator. Evidently she overheard the youth's inquiry, for she +hesitated just as Williams laughed in an ugly manner and said: + +"If you don't know him you'd better peddle yourself somewhere else. He +won't be in a mood to talk to hoboes to-night." + +Before the slender youth could speak, the girl stepped forward and said +quietly: + +"Pardon me, but I overheard you inquiring for Manager Clancy. He is in +the writing room." + +Her brown eyes flashed with anger, her lips were set tight and her +sun-browned cheeks flushed as she passed quickly on toward the +elevator, not waiting to respond to the thanks of the slender youth, +who had removed his hat quickly to utter his gratitude. Then, turning +toward Williams, who stood flushed and angry, his blue eyes narrowed +and he said: + +"Just for that, I'll kick you on the shins in the club house and dare +you to fight." + +"What? You will, huh?" spluttered the astounded pitcher. + +He would have said more, but before he could recover, the newcomer, +smiling oddly, turned and walked toward the writing room and held out +his hand to the famous Clancy, for six years leader of the Bears. + +The slender youth stood with extended hand while Manager Clancy gazed +up from his writing. + +"Mr. Clancy?" he asked, smiling. + +"Yes. Sit down," responded Clancy, his intention of rebuffing the +intruder changing as he saw the smile. "What can I do for you?" + +"I read in the evening papers," replied the youth, still smiling +easily, "that Carson broke a leg, and that, to win the pennant, you +must find an outfielder who can hit." + +"Perhaps you also read that I'd like to find a diamond about the size +of my head," responded Clancy, sarcastically. + +"The paper also said that you might switch Pardridge from third base to +the outfield if you could find a hard-hitting infielder." + +"Possibly the paper also said that if I found the diamond I'd move my +gold mine to make room for it." Clancy restrained himself from further +comment, feeling uncertain because of the quiet confidence of his +visitor. + +There was a pause, the veteran manager studying his caller and the +slender youth sat smiling as if expecting Clancy to resume the +conversation. + +"Well?" said Clancy, glancing at his half-finished letter as if to hint +that his time was entirely too valuable to be wasted discussing +academic impossibilities with entire strangers. + +"Well," replied the visitor, smiling, "I'm it." + +"You're what?" asked the astonished manager. + +"The third baseman who can hit." + +"When shall I move the gold mine?" Clancy's voice was dangerously +quiet. + +"To-morrow, if you like." + +Clancy sat gazing at his visitor as if undecided as to whether he +should explode in wrath, laugh at some joke too deep for him, or +believe the slender youth was in earnest. + +"Say, kid," he said slowly after studying the youth for a moment, "I +admire your nerve, anyhow. If you have half the confidence on a ball +field that you have off it, you'll be a wonder. Where did you ever +play ball?" + +A troubled expression came over the boy's face. + +"Mr. Clancy," he said, quietly, "if you take me you'll have to do it +without asking questions. I can play ball, and it's up to me to make +good at something. All I ask is a chance to prove to you I can play. +It will not cost you a cent to find out." + +"Done anything?" Clancy asked, sharply. + +"Criminal? No," responded the boy, flushing. + +"Ever signed a professional contract?" + +"No." + +Clancy studied him as if trying to decide what to do. Then, raising +his voice, he called: + +"Oh, Sec. Come here a minute." + +A tall man, his hair gray, his face wearing a frown of perpetual worry, +came from the hotel lobby. + +"Mr. Tabor," said Clancy, without rising, "this is Mr. Jimmie McCarthy, +who is to have a try-out with us at third base. Room him with the +players. You aren't stopping anywhere else, are you?" + +The last question was directed to the surprised youth. + +"No--I'm broke," answered the youth, flushing quickly. + +"I'll fix you up in a moment," said the secretary in friendly tones as +he shook hands with the youth. "Wait until I finish settling up with +the baggage man." + +The secretary hastened from the room, and the boy turned impulsively to +the manager. + +"Mr. Clancy," he said in a tone of gratitude, "I want to thank you--I +don't know how. I was broke--ball playing is about all I'm good at. +How did you know I didn't want to use my own name?" + +"I figured you might want to forget it for a time, anyhow," said +Clancy. "McCarthy is a good name and it fits your eyes." + +"I can't tell you how grateful I am," said the boy impetuously. "I'll +make good for you. I've failed trying to make a living. Baseball is +the only thing they taught me at college that I'm good at, and when I +read that you needed a third baseman I"---- + +"College man, eh?" asked Clancy quickly. "Well, I won't hold that +against you or tip it off. Don't thank me. If you make good I'll be +the one to give thanks." + +The youth turned to follow the secretary as if to hide a little mist +that came into his eyes, and he left Manager Clancy gazing thoughtfully +after him and nibbling the end of his penholder. + +"It would be a miracle," said Clancy to himself. "But I've got a hunch +it will come true. He's bred right--tell it from his looks. He's +game, light on his feet; good shoulders, and--and--and a pair of eyes." + + + + +CHAPTER II + +_A Miracle Called McCarthy_ + +Thirty thousand persons, banked in the great grandstands and massed +upon the field seats, roared with increasing excitement as from every +direction solid streams of humanity poured toward the park to witness +the second game of the series between the Bears and the Panthers. + +The batting practice of the teams had ended and the Bears trotted out +upon the field. + +"Who is that red-head practicing at third?" inquired "Chucky" Rice, the +veteran reporter of the Panthers. + +"Name is McCarthy, a busher Clancy picked up somewhere. He is to have +a trial this fall--after the pennant fight is over," said Koerner, of +the _Globe_, who traveled with the Bears. + +"Looks sweet on ground balls," commented Rice, watching the slender, +graceful athlete, who was occupying Pardridge's place at third base. +"Where did Clancy find him, Tech?" + +The question was addressed to "Technicalities" Feehan, the odd little +reporter who had traveled with the Bears for twenty years. + +"I have not been informed," responded Feehan, adjusting his glasses and +watching McCarthy closely. "He came to the hotel last night and asked +for a try-out. Did you see him hit?" + +"Yes," replied Rice. "Hits right-handed and he cracked two on the +nose. Will he play?" + +"Clancy hardly will take a chance with him at this stage," replied +Koerner. + +McCarthy tossed his glove to the veteran third baseman and ran toward +the plate to bat grounders to the infielders. He was not aware of the +fact, but Clancy had been watching him keenly during the entire +practice and had asked Kennedy, the star catcher, to keep an eye on the +recruit and report how he liked his actions. + +"Handles himself like a ball player," commented the catcher. "He hit a +curve ball {22} with a snap swing that had a lot of drive in it and he +gets the ball away like a flash when it hits his hands." + +"He takes things easily," said the manager. "I haven't seen him fight +a ball yet. Blocks it down and recovers in plenty of time. If this +game didn't mean so much"---- + +The game went against the Bears from the start, the break of the luck +seeming always to favor the Panthers. Twice, with runners perched on +second and third, Holleran had hit feeble grounders to the infield, one +resulting in a runner being caught at the home plate and one in an easy +out at first that finished an inning in which the Bears had threatened +to amass a half dozen runs. + +The seventh inning started with the Panthers leading 3 to 1, and the +Bears seemingly beaten beyond hope of recovery. An error, followed +quickly by a base on balls and a successful sacrifice bunt put Bear +runners on second and third bases with but one out and Holleran coming +to the bat. Clancy signaled him, and an instant later Umpire Maxwell +announced: + +"McCarthy batting for Holleran. McCarthy will play third base, +Pardridge in left field." + +McCarthy came to the batter's box quickly, swinging a long, light bat. +He let a fast ball cut across the plate just at his shoulders and only +glanced inquiringly at the umpire when it was called a strike. The +next one was a quick-breaking curve, seemingly coming straight at him. +He stepped slightly forward, snapped the long bat against the ball and +drove it down the left field foul line; two runners sprinted across the +plate, and the score was tied. + +"That auburn baby can hit them curves," commented Rice. "He certainly +called the turn and waded into that one." + +The game went into the ninth, then the tenth, the pitchers working +harder and harder and the teams batting behind them without a break to +bring the victory that meant so much to them. + +Jimmy McCarthy was the first batter for the Bears. From an unknown +recruit he had become the sensation of the game, and thousands were +asking who he was. Twice he had hit Cooke's fast "hook curve," and hit +it hard, and Cooke, remembering, shook his head as his catcher signaled +for another curve. The recruit watched him, and, with a sudden jerk of +his belt, he stepped into position. The first ball was fast and across +his shoulders, as Cooke had placed it twice before. This time instead +of taking the first strike McCarthy met the ball squarely and drove it +on the line over the first baseman's head. He turned first base, going +at top speed, although already McKeever, the Panther's right fielder, +known as one of the greatest throwers in the league, was in position to +field the ball. + +The roar that arose from the crowd was chopped short as McCarthy +sprinted for second base. An instant of tense uncertainty was followed +by a swelling murmur of protest, disappointment and rage. + +From the dust cloud just commencing to settle around second base two +forms were emerging, and, as the dust drifted away, the crowd had a +glimpse of a tableau. Tommy Meegher, second baseman of the Panthers, +was disentangling his stocky form from the knot of arms and legs, and +arising from the prostrate body of McCarthy, whose desperate slide had +turned a base hit into a two-bagger. Stooping over them, his hands +outspread, signifying that the runner had reached the base in safety, +was Randy Ransom, crouching, in order better to see under the dust +cloud raised by the hurtling bodies of the players. + +A salvo of grudging applause greeted McCarthy as he arose and brushed +the dust from his gray striped traveling uniform, an outburst that was +followed by a frenzied spasm of enthusiasm from the Bear followers. + +On the Bears' bench Manager Clancy grinned for the first time in three +days. + +"I believe that kid will do," he said to Kennedy. "He called the turn +on that fast ball, just met it, and turned first on his stride. He +slid under Meegher clean. Lay one down now," he added, addressing the +order to Norton. + +The skill of Noisy Norton as a sacrifice hitter was well known to the +spectators in the stands, but better known to the tense, anxious +infielders of the Panthers, who crouched, watching his every motion as +he came to the batter's position. Norton stepped into position, +shortened his hold upon the bat and glanced quickly around the infield +as if noting the position of each man. Suddenly he started, as if in +surprise, and glanced toward the Bears' bench. Manager Clancy nodded +his head affirmatively and again Norton crouched, shortening his grip +upon the bat still more, and slowly churned the inoffensive air with +it. The Panther infielders, alert to detect the plan of attack to be +tried by the Bears, had caught the rapid exchange of glances, and they +crept a step or two closer to the batter, poising ready to leap forward +to field any ball pushed toward them from Norton's bat. + +The plan of assault to be tried seemed clear to the thousands of +spectators. It appeared certain that a sacrifice bunt was to be +attempted; that the third baseman of the Panthers was to pretend to +field the ball, but that, instead, he would return to third base the +moment Norton bunted, permitting Cooke, the pitcher, to try to reach +the ball in time to throw to third to catch McCarthy there instead of +throwing to first to retire Norton. + +Cooke pitched fast and straight over the plate, intending to make +Norton push the ball back to him, or into the air for a fly out. +Norton, however, struck viciously, but without making an effort to hit +the ball, swinging his bat in order to handicap the catcher in his +effort to catch the ball and make a throw. McCarthy had started at +full speed the instant Cooke had commenced to wind up to pitch the +ball, and was in full flight toward third base. Before Nixon's throw, +delayed and hampered by Norton's tactics in striking, reached third, +McCarthy slid behind the base, his feet outstretched to hook the bag as +he threw his body outward to prevent Randall, the third baseman, from +exercising his deadly skill in blocking runners away from the base. + +A moment later Norton drove a long fly to the outfield, and McCarthy, +waiting until it was caught, sprinted across the plate with what proved +to be the winning run. + +"Crossed--and by a busher," lamented Kincaid, of the Panthers, as the +teams started off the field after the finish of the game, walking +slowly because of the press of humanity overflowing from the stands. + +"What do you think of that kid, Slats?" inquired Manager Clancy, as +they walked together toward the club house. + +"He's a ball player, if he don't swell," responded Hartman, +laconically. "He pulled that steal of third wise. He figured we +wouldn't expect a busher to try to steal at that stage--and we didn't. +He's a wise head for a kid." + +"Looks good to me," replied Clancy. "He slipped Norton a signal not to +hit, but to let him steal--and I almost fell off the bench when I saw +it. I expected him to toss the game away." + +"Where'd you get him?" demanded Hartman. + +"He wished himself onto me," grinned Clancy. "He told me he could play +ball and I believed him." + +A swarm of reporters descended upon the headquarters of the visiting +team, striving to discover something of the history of the slender, +red-haired youngster whose coming had revived the waning pennant hopes +of the Bears. McCarthy was not to be found. He had slipped away after +dinner without telling anyone his plans. The reporters descended upon +Manager Clancy, demanding information concerning his find. + +"It's a secret, boys," responded Clancy to their insistent questions. +"He is nom de plume and habeas corpus. The only place I ever heard of +him playing ball was in Cognito." + +"Suppress the comedy and ease us the legit," pleaded Riley, who wrote +theatricals when he was not inventing English in the interest of +baseball. "I can't find any record that will fit him." + +"Boys," said the veteran manager, growing serious, "I don't know a +thing more about him than you do. I don't know where he ever played; +it never was in organized ball, or I would know where he comes from and +who he is. He strolled in here last night, told me he could play ball +and wanted a chance to show me that he could." + +"That was considerable demonstration to-day," commented Rice. "How do +you know he's square?" + +"By looking at him," replied Clancy steadily. "If I needed any more +evidence, he was offered $500 to sign a Panther contract after to-day's +game and told them he'd stick to me--and we haven't even talked about +salary." + +"What'll we call him?" asked one reporter. + +"Say," replied Clancy, enthusiastically, "I dreamed last night that I +had found a pot of gold wrapped up in a million-dollar bill, with a +diamond as big as my hand on top of it. Call him Kohinoor." + +So Kohinoor McCarthy sprang into fame in a day as the mystery of the +league. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +_Hope for the Bears_ + +The Bears were joyous again. They scuffled, joked, laughed and romped +joyously as the team gathered in the railway station to make a hurried +departure for the city of the Pilgrims on the evening after the final +game of the series with the Panthers. Three victories out of four +games played with the Panthers instead of the dreaded three defeats had +lifted the Bears back practically to even terms with their rivals. All +they had hoped for after the injury of Carson was to divide the series +with the Panthers, and it was due to the sudden appearance of Kohinoor +McCarthy that the victories were made possible. + +All the notoriety that suddenly was thrust upon McCarthy had failed to +affect him, although Manager Clancy watched his "find" anxiously, and +pleaded with the newspaper men not to spoil him. No trace of the +dreaded affliction known as "swelled head" had revealed itself, and +because McCarthy was able to laugh over the wild stories printed +concerning him, Clancy breathed more easily. + +During the celebration McCarthy, who had made it possible, stood apart +from the others, feeling a little lonely. McCarthy stood watching +them, smiling at their antics with a feeling that he was an intruder. +The truth was that the Bears had welcomed him from the start. He had +won their admiration on the field and the undying friendship of Silent +Swanson by his conduct in the club house on the afternoon after the +close of his first game. It was that incident that made for him a chum +and an enemy, who were destined to play a big part in his career. + +When the players raced off the field after that victory, striving to +escape being engulfed in the torrent of humanity that poured from the +stands, McCarthy was caught, with a few others, and delayed. When he +reached the club house the substitutes and the reserve pitchers already +were splashing and spluttering under the showers. McCarthy walked to +where Adonis Williams, already stripped to the waist, was preparing to +take his shower, and without a word he kicked the pitcher on the shins, +a mere rap, but administered so as to leave no doubt as to its purpose. + +"Here----. What did you do that for?" demanded Williams. + +"I told you in the hotel, when you insulted me, that I'd do it. Will +you fight?" + +McCarthy's blue eyes had grown narrower, and a colder blue tint came +into them. + +"I'll break you in pieces, you ---- ---- ---- you," Williams spluttered +with rage. + +"Drop that talk and fight," challenged McCarthy, stepping into a +fighting attitude. + +Just then McCarthy received help from an unexpected source. Swanson, +the giant of the team, broke through the circle of players that had +formed in expectation of seeing a fight. + +"You're all right, Bo," he roared, throwing his huge arm around the +shoulders of the recruit. "You're perfectly all right, but he won't +fight you." + +"I'll smash"---- + +"Naw, you won't, Adonis," said the giant, contemptuously. "I think he +can lick you, anyhow, but you had it coming. Now kick his other shin, +and after that Adonis will apologize." + +The suggestion raised a laugh, and eased the situation. The battle +light in McCarthy's face changed to a smile. + +"I'll forego the kick," he said. "I had to make good after what I told +you in the hotel. I'm perfectly willing to let it drop and be friends." + +He extended his hand frankly, but Williams, still scowling, did not +take it. + +"Never mind the being friends part of it," he said. "But if you don't +want trouble, just lay away from me after this." + +"Here, young fellow," said Clancy, who had arrived at the club house in +time to see the finish of the altercation; "I'll do all the fighting +for this club. Understand?" + +"Yes," replied McCarthy, slowly, without attempting to explain. + +"What do you think of my gamecock, Bill?" asked Swanson, +enthusiastically. "Adonis insulted him in the hotel last night and the +kid promised to kick him on the shins. He was just making good. He +offered to shake hands and call it all off, but Adonis wouldn't do it. +He's my roommate from now on. I'll have to take him to keep him from +fighting every one." + +The giant's remark caused another laugh, as his record for fights +during his earlier career as a ball player had given him a reputation +which obviated all necessity of fighting. + +The majority of the Bears had accepted McCarthy as one of their own +kind after that, and Swanson adopted him. With Swanson he seemed at +home, but the others found him a trifle shy and retiring. He was +friendly with all excepting Williams and Pardridge, who resented his +occupation of third base while pretending to be pleased. Yet with the +exception of Swanson and Kennedy he made no close friends. The +admiration of the rough, big-hearted Swede shortstop for the recruit +approached adoration and he was loud and insistent in voicing his +praises of McCarthy. + +The train which was bearing the Bears away from the city of the +Panthers drew slowly out of the great station, plunged through a series +of tunnel-like arches under the streets, and rattled out into the +suburbs, gathering speed for the long night run. Inside the cars the +players were settling themselves for an evening of recreation. Card +games were starting, the chess players were resuming their +six-month-long contest, and McCarthy sought his berth and sat alone, +striving to read. In the berth just ahead of his seat the quartette +commenced to sing. + +The Bears possessed a quartette with some musical merit and musical +knowledge. Kennedy, the quiet, big catcher, had a good baritone voice +and it showed training. Norton, who seldom spoke, but always was ready +to sing, led, and Swanson was the bass, his voice deep and organ-like, +making up in power and richness much that it lost in lack of training. +Madden, the tenor, was weak and uncertain yet, as Swanson remarked, "He +can't sing much, but he is a glutton for punishment." + +When the quartette started to sing, McCarthy dropped his book and sat +gazing out into the gathering twilight, listening to the strong, +healthy voices. Lights commenced to flash out from the farm houses and +the haze settled in waving curtains over the ponds and the lowlands. +He was lonely, homesick at thought of other voices and other scenes and +the joyousness of his new comrades seemed to depress rather than to +lift his spirits. + +Berths were being prepared for the night. Already in several the weary +and the lame were reclining, reading. Others, worn by the strain of +the day's game, were getting ready to draw their curtains. The trainer +and his assistant were passing quietly from berth to berth, working +upon aching arms and bruised muscles, striving to keep their valuable +live stock in condition to continue the struggle. + +The quartette sang on and on, regardless of the lack of an audience, +for no one in the car appeared to be listening. They sang tawdry +"popular" songs for the most part, breaking into a ribald ragtime +ditty, followed by a sickly sentimental ballad. + +Kennedy's voice, without warning, rose strong and clear almost before +the final chord of the song over which the quartette had been in +travail had died away. Kennedy had a habit, when he wearied of the +songs they sang, of singing alone some song the others did not know; +some quaint old ballad, or oftener a song of higher class. For a +moment the others strove vainly to follow. Then silence fell over them +as Kennedy's voice rose, clearer and stronger, as he sang the old words +of Eileen Aroon. + +"Dear were her charms to me." + +His voice was pregnant with feeling. + +"Dearer her laughter--free." + +Kennedy was singing as if to himself, but as he sang a voice, strong +and fresh, like a clear bell striking into the music of chimes, joined +his and sang with him the words: + +"Dearer her constancy." + +The card players suddenly lost interest in their game, dropped their +hands and turned to see who was singing. Players who had been reading +and those who had been vainly striving to sleep poked their heads +between curtains of the berths, the better to listen. + +On and on through the haunting, half-pathetic minors of the old song +the clear, sweet tenor and the strong, well-modulated voice of Kennedy +carried the listeners. McCarthy, leaning toward the window and gazing +out upon the moonlight as if under its spell, sang on in ignorance of +the interest his voice had aroused in the car. + +The song ended. For a moment the silence in the car was so complete +that the clicking of the wheels upon the fish plates sounded sharply. +Then Swanson, with a yell, broke the spell. Hurdling the back of the +berth he descended upon the startled McCarthy, who seemed dazed and +bewildered by the outburst and the pattering applause that it started. + +"Yeh, Bo," yelled Swanson, giving his diamond war cry. "Yeh, Bo, +you're a bear. Hey, you folks, throw Maddy out of the window and make +room for this red-headed Caruso. Why didn't you tell me you could +sing? The quartette is filled at last!" + +Flushed and laughing in his embarrassment, McCarthy was borne up the +aisle and deposited in the place of honor in the quartette. + +Suddenly the scuffling and boisterous laughter ceased, and the players +drew aside, apologetically, to make room for an eager, bright-eyed +girl, whose face was flushed with pleasure, but who advanced toward +McCarthy without a trace of embarrassment. McCarthy, glancing at her, +recognized the girl who had directed him to Manager Clancy on the +evening of his first appearance in the Bear camp. + +"I was coming to say good-night to father," she said quickly, "and I +heard you sing. I want to thank you." + +She extended her hand and smiled. McCarthy stared at her in a +bewilderment. Some memory of long ago stirred within him. He recalled +in a flash where he had seen the face before; the face that had come +into his boyhood at one of its unhappiest hours. He had dreamed of the +face, and the memory of the kind brown eyes, filled with sympathetic +tenderness, never had left him. She was the same girl. He realized +suddenly that he was staring rudely and strove to stammer some reply to +her impulsive thanks. + +"Oh, I say," he protested. "It was nothing--I wasn't thinking"---- + +"You sang it beautifully," she interrupted. + +"The song is one of my favorites. I did not know Mr. Kennedy knew it." + +"Used to sing it at home," said Kennedy, as if indifferent. + +"Thank you," McCarthy stammered, partly recovering his poise. "It is +good of you to like it. I seldom sing at all. The song made me forget +where I was." + +"You must sing for us," she said simply. "The boys will make you. I +am certain that after you feel more at home among us you will give us +that pleasure. Good-night--and thank you again." + +The girl smiled and McCarthy, stuttering in his effort to reply, +managed to mutter good-night as she passed into the next car. + +"It's a pink Kohinoor now," said the relentless Swanson, as he observed +the flushed face of the recruit. "All fussed up, isn't he?" + +"Oh, cut it out," retorted McCarthy, striving to cover his +embarrassment by ball field conversational methods. "A fellow might be +expected to be a little bit embarrassed with a lot of big stiffs like +you standing around and never offering to introduce a fellow." + +"I forgot it, Kohinoor," said Kennedy quickly. "I forgot you never had +met her. She is Betty Tabor, Sec's daughter, and one of the best +little women in the world. Even Silent is a gentleman when she is with +the team." + +"I'm always a gent, Bo," declared Swanson indignantly. "I took a night +school course in etiquette once. Any one that ain't a gent when she is +around I'll teach to be a gent--and this is the perfessor." + +He exhibited a huge, red fist and smote the cushions of the berth with +a convincing thud. + +"I'll introduce you properly to-morrow," volunteered Kennedy. "Come on +and get into the quartette. We'll try you out." + +McCarthy surrendered more to conceal his agitation than because he felt +like singing. + +The quartette sang until the bridge players grew weary of the game and +the tired athletes who preferred sleep to the melody howled +imprecations upon the vocalists. + +For a long time after McCarthy climbed into his berth he remained +staring into the darkness, striving to recall the outlines of a face +set with a pair of friendly brown eyes that lighted with a look of +eager appreciation. He remembered the little dimples at the corners of +the mouth, and the wealth of soft, brown hair that framed the oval of +her face. He blushed hotly in the darkness at the thought of his own +rather threadbare raiment, and he decided that he would evade an +introduction until he could secure money from Manager Clancy and +recover the clothes he had left in an express office. + +He found himself striving to compare her face with that of another. + +"She is not as pretty as Helen is," he told himself. "But it's +different somehow. Helen never seemed to feel anything or to +understand a fellow, and I'm sure Betty--Betty? I wonder if that is +her real name--I'll sing for her as often as she will listen." + +And, after a long reviewing of the past that was proving such a mystery +and which the baseball reporters were striving in vain to explore, +McCarthy muttered: "I've made a fool of myself," and turned over and +slept. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +_"Kohinoor" Meets Betty_ + +The train was speeding along through the upper reaches of a beautiful +valley when McCarthy awoke. As he splashed and scraped his face in the +washroom he found himself torn between desire to hasten the +introduction which Kennedy had promised and to avoid meeting the girl. +He glanced down at his worn garments, wondering whether or not the girl +had observed them. He went forward to the dining car with sudden +determination to avoid the introduction. The dining car was crowded, +and the table at which Swanson was eating was filled. McCarthy +stopped, looked around for a vacant seat. There seemed to be only +one--and at that table Miss Betty Tabor was breakfasting with Manager +Clancy and his wife. + +"Good morning," said the girl, smiling brightly. "There is a seat +here. My father had to hurry away. Mr. Clancy will introduce us." + +Clancy suspended his operations with his ham and eggs long enough to +say: + +"Miss Taber, Mr. McCarthy. Kohinoor, this is the old lady." + +"I heard Mr. McCarthy sing last night," said the girl, acknowledging +the informal presentation. "He sings well." + +"So I should guess," remarked Clancy dryly. "Swanson has been +bellowing his praise of it until everyone on the train thinks we have +grabbed a grand opera star who can hit 400." + +McCarthy found himself talking with Miss Taber and Mrs. Clancy and +laughing at the quaint half brogue of the manager's buxom wife as if +they had known each other all their lives. Clancy himself had little +to say. The conversation had drifted to discussion of the country +through which the train was running and McCarthy suddenly ceased +talking. + +"I always have loved this part of the valley," said Miss Taber. "When +I was a little girl father brought me on a trip and I remember then +picking out a spot on the hills across the river where, some day, I +wanted to live. I never pass it without feeling the old desire. Have +you been through this country before?" + +The question was entirely natural, but McCarthy reddened as he admitted +it was his first trip. + +"And what part of the world do you come from?" asked Mrs. Clancy. + +"I'm from the West," he responded. "Probably that is why I admire this +green country so much." + +"What is your home town?" persisted Mrs. Clancy. + +Miss Taber, scenting an embarrassing situation, strove to change the +subject, but Mrs. Clancy refused to be put off. + +"Why is it you are ashamed of your home and play under another name, +boy?" she demanded. + +"Why do you think my name isn't McCarthy?" he parried. + +"The McCarthys aren't a red-headed race," she said, her brogue +broadening. "Ye have Irish in ye, but ye're not Irish. Is baseball +such a disgraceful business ye are ashamed to use your name?" + +"Of course not, Mrs. Clancy," he responded indignantly. "It is a good +enough business--but--but--Oh, I can't explain." + +"This mystery business is a big drawing card," remarked Manager Clancy, +endeavoring to ease the situation. "They flock to see him because each +one can make up his own story. Let him alone, mother. Don't spoil the +gate receipts." + +"Let him alone, is it?" she asked, turning upon her husband. "'Tis for +his own sake I'm speaking. They'll be saying you've done something bad +and wicked and are afraid to use your own name." + +"What isn't true cannot hurt anyone," he replied quickly. "I have not +committed any crimes." + +"Mother is a good deal right about it," remarked Clancy quietly. "A +baseball player is a public person. The fans are likely to say +anything about a player, and the less they know the more they will +invent." + +"I believe Mother Clancy is right," said Miss Taber, seeing that her +effort to turn the conversation had failed. + +"But there really isn't anything to tell--anything any one would be +interested in. It's a private matter," protested McCarthy. + +"Listen, boy," said the manager's wife. "I've been with the boys these +many years. They are all my boys, even the bad ones, and I don't want +any of them talked about." + +"There is nothing to talk about," he contended, irritated by the +persistency of the manager's wife. + +"They're already saying things," she responded, leaning forward. +"They're a saying that you've done something crooked--that you've +thrown ball games----" + +"Oh," ejaculated Miss Taber. "They wouldn't dare!" + +"I'd like to have someone say that to me," McCarthy said, flushing with +anger. + +"Hold on, mother," interrupted Clancy. "I'm managing this team----Let +up on him. Where do you hear that kind of talk?" + +"I heard it in the stands," she argued earnestly. "They were saying +you knew all about it. If you deny it they'll tell another story and +if you keep quiet they'll think its a confession. Tell them what you +are and where you came from, boy." + +Her voice was pleading and her interest in his welfare was too real not +to affect him. + +"I'm sorry, Mother Clancy," he said gratefully, unconsciously adopting +the term he had heard Betty Tabor use. "There is nothing I can tell +them--or anyone--now." + +"It's sorry I am, Jimmy," she responded sadly. "If it's anything ye +can tell me come to me." + +"I see I have another adopted son," remarked Clancy teasingly as he +winked at Miss Tabor. "Ellen mothers them all, as soon as she learns +their first names--even the Swede." + +"'Tis proud I'd be to have a son like Sven," she said, defendingly. + +The breakfast ended rather quietly and McCarthy returned to his seat in +the players' car dispirited. In his heart he knew that Mrs. Clancy had +spoken the truth. He knew, too, that Betty Tabor held the same opinion +and, somehow, her opinion of him counted more than that of all the +others. + +"If I only could explain," he kept thinking. "They have no right to +ask," he argued with himself. "Why do they suspect a man just because +he refuses to tell them all his private affairs?" + +McCarthy was settling himself to resume reading when Adonis Williams +came down the aisle and sat down in the other half of the seat. +Williams looked at him patronizingly for an instant, and in a rather +sneering tone said: + +"Just a friendly little tip, young fellow. Keep off my preserves and +you'll get along better with this club." + +"I don't quite understand you," replied McCarthy, his eyes narrowing +with the anger aroused by the air of superiority assumed by the pitcher. + +"I was watching you during breakfast," said Williams. "Don't get it +into your head that because you happened to play a couple of good games +of ball you can run this club and do as you please." + +"Hold on a minute," retorted McCarthy, flushing with anger. "If you +have any grievance against me say so. Don't beat around the bush. I +don't know what you are talking about." + +"I wanted to tip you off to keep away from the young woman you ate +breakfast with." + +McCarthy's eyes flashed angrily, and he started to rise, but controlled +himself with an effort. + +"Only muckers discuss such things," he said, coldly. + +"Well, we're going to discuss it," retorted Williams, who rapidly was +working himself into a rage. "That young lady is going to be my wife, +and I don't care to have her associating with every hobo ball player +that joins the team." + +McCarthy clenched his fists and started to his feet, but gritted his +teeth and kept control of his temper. "You're to be congratulated--if +it is true," he said slowly, his tone an insult. "Men cannot fight +over a woman and not have her name dragged into it. Drop that part of +it and to-night I'll insult you and give you a chance to fight." + +"Any time you please," replied Williams, rather taken aback. "I think +you're yellow and won't dare fight." + +He swaggered down the aisle, leaving McCarthy angry, helpless and +raging. He was boiling with inward anger when Swanson slid down into +the seat with him as the train entered the suburbs of the Pilgrim City. + +"Smatter, Bo?" asked Swanson, quickly observing that something was +wrong. "I saw Williams talking with you. Has he been trying to bluff +you? Don't mind him. He has been as sore as a Charley horse ever +since you joined the team, and he won't overlook a chance to start +trouble." + +"He has started it all right," replied McCarthy, savagely. "We're +going to fight to-night and I'll"---- + +"Steady, Bo, steady," warned Swanson, dropping his voice. "That's his +game, is it? He won't fight any one. He heard Clancy warn you not to +fight and he is trying to get you in bad. I know his way." + +"I told him I'd fight," responded McCarthy, worriedly. "Now I'll have +to. I don't know anything I'd enjoy better." + +"I'd like to second you and make you do it," responded the giant. "But +it would be playing into his hands if you punched him. Leave him to +me. I'll fix his clock." + +Swanson's methods were all his own. The repairing of Williams's +timepiece took place in the big auto 'bus that carried the players from +the train to their hotel. Swanson, wise with long experience in such +matters, secured a seat across the 'bus from Williams, and when the +vehicle rolled onto smoother streets he addressed the pitcher. + +"Hey, Adonis," he said in tones Manager Clancy could not fail to hear, +"trying to take out your grouch on Kohinoor, eh? You lay off him or +count me in on anything that comes off." + +"That sneak been tattling and crying for help, eh?" sneered Williams. +"I wasn't going to hurt him." + +"You're right, you're not," retorted Swanson. "He didn't tell me. I +saw you trying to start something with him, and I've seen you do it to +too many other kids not to know what you were up to." + +"Who's talking fight?" demanded Clancy sharply, turning to scan the +players until his eyes rested upon Williams's flushed and angry face. + +"Nobody is going to fight," said Swanson easily. "Adonis has been +trying to bully Kohinoor and stir him up. I guess he thought he could +put over his bluff because you told Kohinoor not to fight." + +"Adonis, you cut that stuff out or I'll take a hand in it myself," said +Clancy, whose ability and willingness to fight had earned him a +reputation during his playing days. "You've had a grouch for a week or +more. As for you, Kohinoor, don't think you can fight your way through +this league. The first thing you have to do is to learn to stand +punishment and keep your temper." + +"No fresh prison pup can swell up and try to cut into my affairs," +muttered Williams, sullen under the rebuke. + +McCarthy sprang up to avenge the fresh insult, but before he could act +or speak he was forestalled. + +"Oh," said Clancy sharply. "So you're the fellow who has been making +that kind of talk? I've been trying to find out where it came from. +One more bit of that kind of conversation will cost you a bunch of +salary." + +"I've heard it everywhere," muttered Williams, taken aback by the +sudden defense of the recruit by the manager. + +"Well, don't hear any more of it," snapped Clancy, and McCarthy, +feeling he had emerged with the honors, discretely maintained silence. + +"What started Adonis after you this morning?" asked Swanson, as he +hurled garments around the room and wrought disaster to the order of +his trunk as he hunted pajamas. + +"Guess he was just trying to start something," responded McCarthy, +still reading. + +"Girl?" inquired Swanson. + +"What makes you think that?" + +"He was mad when he saw you at breakfast with Betty. He's jealous of +everyone who talks to her." + +"She's a dandy girl," said McCarthy, generously. "I don't much blame a +fellow for being jealous when he is engaged to a girl like that." + +"Engaged to Betty Tabor? That stiff?" ejaculated Swanson. "Say, did +he spring a line of talk like that on you? Why, he has been crazy +about her for three years, but she knows what he is, and she won't talk +to him any more than to be polite." + +"I thought it was odd," commented McCarthy, his heart becoming +strangely lighter. + +"Don't make any mistake, though," added Swanson earnestly, as he turned +out the lights. "You've stirred up a bad enemy. He won't fight you +openly; but keep an eye on him." + +Swanson's warning fell upon deaf ears. McCarthy's attack of blues was +cured, and he fell asleep to the music of street car wheels that seemed +to say: "She isn't engaged, she isn't engaged," as they rolled past the +hotel. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +_The Tempter_ + +The Bears were coming into their hotel after the first game of the +series with the Pilgrims. The throng in the lobby pressed forward, +forming a lane through which they were compelled to run the gauntlet of +curious and admiring eyes. Easy Ed Edwards was smiling sardonically as +he noted the little display of hero-worship, and he watched the +procession of battle-stained athletes until Adonis Williams entered. +The handsome, arrogant pitcher was laughing as he strutted for the +benefit of the onlookers, but, as his eyes met the cold, steady gaze of +the gambler, his laugh gave way to a look of alarm. Edwards nodded +coldly and motioned with his head for the player to come to him. +Williams crossed the lobby to the cigar stand and held out his hand. +Edwards did not seem to observe the extended hand, but turned coldly to +the case and said: + +"Have a cigar?" + +"Thanks," said Williams, nervously. "What brings you out here, Ed?" + +"Business," replied the gambler chillingly. "Business concerning +you--and others. Come to my room to-night." + +"Can't--I was going out. Had an engagement," Williams faltered, as he +dropped his eyes to avoid meeting those of Edwards. + +"I want you in my room to-night," said Edwards coldly, ignoring the +refusal. + +"You seem to think you have a mortgage on my life," said Williams, +angered by the tone and manner of the gambler. + +"Well--on your baseball life, I have," responded the gambler without +changing a muscle of his face. + +The pitcher started to flare into anger, then paled and his eyes +dropped under the gambler's steady gaze. + +"Well," he said, uncertainly, "I've got to dress, I'll see you later." + +"Better drop in early. You'll probably pitch to-morrow and you must +keep in condition." Edwards' tone was ironic as he added for the +benefit of the clerk who was handing him his change: "The race is +getting warm and you can't be too careful of your condition." + +What happened in the gambler's room that evening was never known to any +save the two who were present, but shortly after 11 o'clock Williams +came downstairs white and shaking with passion, and went in to the bar. +He emerged nearly an hour later, flushed and unsteady, just in time to +encounter Manager Clancy, his wife, Miss Taber and McCarthy, chatting +and laughing as the men bade the women good-night at the elevators. +Clancy, catching sight of him, remarked: + +"Hello, Adonis. Better hit the hay. You work to-morrow." + +Williams turned away and said: "All right." But when the manager and +McCarthy entered the elevator Williams returned to the barroom, and +when, at 1 o'clock, the bar closed, he went unsteadily to his room, +after informing the bartender that he was the best pitcher in the world. + +The Bears faced the Pilgrims for the third game of the series before a +huge Saturday crowd, attracted by the announcement that Puckett, the +star pitcher of the Pilgrims would pitch against Adonis Williams. The +teams battled brilliantly for three innings, although Williams was wild +and unsteady. Twice sharp work by the infielders prevented the +Pilgrims from scoring, and when the fourth inning commenced the crowd +was cheering the Pilgrims wildly and encouraging them to drag down the +Bears from their proud position at the head of the-league. Manager +Clancy, crouching forward near the players' bench, was watching +Williams closely, and every few moments his worried frown and quick +gesture showed that he was not pleased with the manner in which his +best left-hander was working. Between innings the manager talked in +low tones with Kennedy, who was catching, seeking to discover why +Williams seemed wild and what was the matter with his curve ball. + +"Get out there and warm up a bit, Will," said Clancy to Wilcox, his +reliable veteran. "They're likely to get after Adonis any minute." + +To those in the stands it seemed as if Williams was pitching just as +well as was his rival, but both teams knew that he was not in his best +form, and that it was luck and fast fielding, rather than good +pitching, that was saving him from being batted hard. The Pilgrims +attacked him in each inning with confidence born of the certainty that +sooner or later their hard drives would begin to fall in safe ground, +while the Bears played the harder to prevent the start of a rally. + +The break came in the sixth inning. A base on balls to the first +batter gave the Pilgrims the opening for which they had been waiting +and they rushed to the assault like soldiers upon a breached wall. +Douglass, the next batter, hit a line single to right so hard that the +runner going from first was compelled to stop at second. Instead of +delaying and steadying himself while planning a system of defense, +Williams commenced pitching as rapidly as he could get the ball away +from his hand. Almost before the batter was in position he pitched a +fast ball straight over the plate and the batter bunted down toward +shortstop. McCarthy was racing upon the ball, ready to scoop it in +perfect position for a throw. Williams attempted to field the ball +which either McCarthy or Swanson could have handled. Williams touched +the ball with his groping fingers just before McCarthy, stooping and +going at full speed, scooped it and tried to snap it to second base. +The ball left his hand just as he crashed with terrific force into +Williams. Both men reeled and went down, stunned and dazed. The ball +flew wild and rolled on into right field. One Pilgrim progressed to +the plate. Douglass, who had been on first, dived safely to third, +while only Swanson's fast recovery drove the batter back to first. + +Williams arose, hurt and furious, and while McCarthy was striving to +struggle to his feet the pitcher aimed a vicious blow at his head. +Swanson's arm was interposed just in time to stop the blow, and before +Williams could strike again players of both teams and the umpires +rushed in and prevented further hostilities. The shaken and bruised +players recovered and resumed play in a short time, and another safe +hit and an out sent two more of the Pilgrims scurrying across the +plate. Against the three run lead caused by the mix-up between the +pitcher and third baseman the Bears fought desperately. Puckett was +pitching one of his cleverest, most studious games and, although the +Bears strove again and again to start a counter rally, he held them +helpless and the Pilgrims won the game 3 to 1. + +A sore and disappointed team crowded into the big auto 'bus after the +game. They were depressed and silent, for the Panthers had won and the +teams again practically were tied for the lead of the championship +race. This knowledge that they had thrown away a game to a second +division team which they expected to beat four times was bad enough, +but that the Pilgrims should have won from Williams for the first time +in two seasons made the dose more bitter. No word of blame for any one +was uttered. But McCarthy, bruised and nursing a cut on his forehead, +grieved and refused to be comforted. + +"That was a great play you tried to make, Kohinoor," remarked Manager +Clancy just before the 'bus reached the hotel. "I like to see a player +try to get the runners nearest home. If you had forced that fellow at +second, as you tried to do when Adonis cut into the play, the next hit +never would have got through the infield, and the chances are we'd have +had a double play and won the game." + +These were the first words of praise Manager Clancy ever had said to +him, and he felt better. + +The players had been invited to attend a performance at a theater that +evening. After dinner they were grouped around the lobby of the hotel, +when Edwards strolled through, going toward the desk. Manager Clancy +glanced at him in surprise and a worried look came over his face. + +"I wonder what that crook is doing out here?" he remarked to a group of +players. "You fellows keep away from him. It's worth a player's +reputation for honesty to be seen with him." + +As Edwards turned from the desk he glanced quickly at Williams, caught +his eye and beckoned slightly with his head. Williams suddenly pleaded +that he was too weary to attend the performance and remained in the +hotel, declaring his intention of retiring early. As soon as Manager +Clancy, escorting the women of the party, left the hotel, Williams +ascended to Edwards' room. + +"See here, Ed," he said, "you're putting me in a dickens of a hole. +Clancy is sore on you. He said he would fine any player who talked to +you. I was afraid he'd see you tip me to come up. If he gets on I'll +lose a bunch of salary. I had to sneak to come up here." + +"I wanted to talk to you," replied the gambler. "I told you last night +that the Panthers must win this pennant. I stand to lose close to +$80,000 if they don't. Of course they may beat you, but I want to make +it a sure thing and clean up on it." + +"You ought to be feeling better about it to-day," said the pitcher, in +an aggrieved tone. "We lost to a dub club with me pitching. What more +do you want?" + +"It wasn't your fault that you lost," retorted the gambler coldly. +"You tried hard to win it and you might have won if you had kept away +from that bunted ball." + +"I'd have thrown him out at first easily if that four-flush third +baseman hadn't bumped me," snapped Williams, his pride hurt. + +"Sure you would," sneered the gambler. "You'd have thrown me out of +about $160,000 just to have a better average. You had a chance to lose +that game without any trouble and you're sore because you did lose it." + +"Why shouldn't I be?" demanded Williams. "If we win my part of the +world's series money will be close to $4,000--enough to settle what I +owe you and pay my bills." + +"Now look here, Williams," said the gambler, laying aside his cigar and +leaning forward across the table. "You stand to win just enough to pay +your debts and you'll be broke all winter, without a sou to show for a +year's work. If the Bears lose I'll cancel all you owe me and make you +a present of as much as the winning players get out of the world's +series. You get me?" + +"Why, you d--d crook." Williams leaped from his seat threateningly. +"You want me to throw the championship?" + +"Sit down, you fool," snarled the gambler, viciously. "Do you want me +to let Clancy know who tipped it off that Carson's leg was broken? Do +you want me to tell him you got $500 for tipping it to that Panther +bunch of gamblers?" + +"Now listen to sense," continued Edwards, more quickly, "you saw to-day +how easily you can lose a game and blame the other fellow. You can use +your head and get rich instead of being in debt. If you don't like +McCarthy, all you have to do is to make him lose games for you. The +papers will yell, 'Hard luck,' you'll get money and I'll clean up a +fortune." + +"You can't make a crook of me," whined Williams. "Wanting me to throw +down a bunch of good fellows"---- + +"Oh, shut up. You make me sick," sneered the gambler. "All you have +to do is to make a sure thing out of a doubtful one. You'll be +protecting yourself and getting even with a fellow you hate." + +"I won't do it." Williams was at bay and defiant. + +"All right," said Edwards sharply, "then to-morrow Clancy will get some +news that will start something." + +"Aw, say, Ed, you wouldn't cross a fellow like that?" whined Williams. + +"Wouldn't I? Perhaps you think I'll let go of all that money and not +fight? I'm starting home to-morrow. I won't see you any more. I am +depending on you to deliver--or I'll protect myself." + +"I won't do it." Williams was desperately defiant. + +"Yes you will--when you think it over," Edwards replied easily. "Let's +have a drink." He rang the bell and smoked in silence while Williams +sat sullenly defiant. + +"I tell you I wouldn't do it for all the money in the game," declared +the pitcher. + +"Here comes the boy," said the gambler. "I'll watch the score of the +next game you pitch to see what you do." + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +_Adonis Makes a Deal_ + +The after theater crowd was trooping into the lobby of the hotel in +laughing, chattering groups and drifting steadily toward the café, in +which already gay parties were gathered at the tables. Manager Clancy +and his wife, with Secretary Taber and his daughter, came together and +they stood undecided, the men urging that they go to the restaurant for +a lunch before retiring, and Miss Taber, laughing, declaring that too +much pleasure in one day was bad for them. At that moment Williams, a +little flushed, swaggered across the lobby, and, lifting his hat, +advanced toward the group. The girl smiled pleasantly in response to +his greeting, but as he spoke again she stiffened indignantly and +retired a step involuntarily, as she saw he had been drinking. + +"So you prefer that red-headed prison bird to me?" he asked in sneering +tones. + +Betty Tabor flushed, then turned pale and facing the handsome, half +drunken fellow, she gazed at him steadily until, in spite of his +swaggering attitude, he grew uneasy and dropped his eyes. Then she +spoke. She spoke just one word, vibrant with all the scorn and anger +in her being. + +"Yes." + +Without a glance at him she turned and stepped into the waiting car, +leaving Williams staring blankly in the elevator well. The cold scorn +of the girl's single word had stung him more deeply than a volume of +rebuke would have done. Half maddened by jealousy and drink he turned +to cross the lobby, forgetting to replace his hat, and Clancy, whose +attention had been attracted by the pitcher's pursuit of the girl, +grasped him by the shoulder and said sternly: + +"Williams, if you take another drink to-night it will cost you a +month's pay." + +The manager turned to rejoin his wife, and Williams, seething with what +he considered a double dose of injustice, walked unsteadily across the +lobby. He sat down and meditated over his wrongs. He thought of +Edwards and his offer and rising quickly he walked to the telegraph +office and wrote a message, for which he paid as he handed it to the +night operator. Clancy, who had been talking with friends, was waiting +for an elevator and saw his pitcher writing the message. His forehead +knitted into a worried frown as he turned and slowly walked toward the +elevator again, whistling, as was his habit when he was seriously +disturbed. Clancy determined to watch his left-hander. He did not +speak of the matter to anyone, having decided to await developments. +He watched Williams closely during the remaining games against the +Pilgrims, which the Bears won easily, and during the trip to the city +of the Maroons, where Williams was to pitch the opening game of the +series. + +The Bears and Panthers were fighting upon an unchanged basis, only a +fraction of a game separating them in the league standing. With but +eighteen more games remaining on the schedule for the Bears, and +nineteen for the Panthers, the race was becoming more desperate each +day and the nervous strain was commencing to tell upon some of the men. +Clancy was nursing his players, knowing that one disheartening defeat +might mean a break that would lead to a succession of downfalls. The +more he watched Williams the stronger his conviction that something was +amiss. Williams was not acting naturally and his demeanor when with +the other players was a puzzle to Clancy. + +He selected Williams as the pitcher in the first game against the +Maroons with the purpose, being determined to find whether or not the +pitcher was in condition, and he sent Wilcox, his best right-handed +pitcher, out to warm up so as to be ready to rescue Williams at the +first sign of distress. + +"What's the matter with Adonis?" inquired Manager Clancy, as his +catcher and principal adviser returned to the bench after the second +inning. + +"His curve is breaking slow and low and on the inside corner of the +plate to the right-handers," replied Kennedy. "I can't make him keep +it high and out." + +"Make him use his fast one or he'll get Kohinoor killed with one of +those line smashes," ordered Clancy quietly. "Watch him closely, and +if he is loafing, signal me." + +The third inning and the fourth reeled away without a score, and in the +first half of the fifth a base on balls, a steal by Norton and a +crashing drive by Pardridge gave the Bears a score and the lead. +Caton, one of the heaviest hitters of the Maroons, started their half +of the inning, and as he stepped into position Kennedy crouched and +signaled. Williams shook his head quickly and pitched a curve that +broke on the inside corner of the plate. Caton drove the ball with +terrific force straight at McCarthy, who managed to knock it down and +hold the batter to one base. The next batter sacrificed, and Ellis, a +right-handed slugger, came to bat. Again Kennedy signaled for a fast +sidearm ball, pitched high, and again Williams shook his head and +curved one over the plate. Ellis struck the ball with one hand and +sent a carroming down to Swanson, who failed in a desperate effort to +throw out the runner. With men on first and third the Bears' first and +third baseman came close to the plate to cut off the runner, while the +shortstop and second baseman remained in position to make a double play +or to catch the runner stealing. Burley, the giant first baseman of +the Maroons, was at bat, a man noted for his ability to hit any ball +pitched close to him. Williams sent a strike whizzing over the plate. +Again the catcher ordered a fast ball, and he pitched a curve that +Burley fouled off for the second strike. Kennedy, perplexed and +anxious, ran down to consult with the pitcher. Williams sullenly +assented to the order to pitch high and out and waste two balls. +Instead, he threw a curve, low, close to the batter's knees and barely +twisting. Before Kennedy's cry of anger rose the bat crashed against +the ball, which flashed down the third-base line, struck McCarthy on +the arm, then on the jaw, and he went down like a poled ox, the ball +carroming away toward the stand. Before it was recovered one Maroon +had scored and the others were perched on second and third. + +Time was called and players rushed to assist the injured third baseman. +Kennedy threw off his mask and ran to the bench. + +"I signaled him and told him to pitch fast and waste two," he said to +Manager Clancy. "He nodded that he would and then crossed me and +lobbed up an easy curve inside the plate." + +"Don't say a word," cautioned Clancy, as McCarthy, still dazed, but +recovering, was helped to his feet. "Keep ordering him to pitch fast +and outside. Signal me if he disobeys again." + +McCarthy got onto his feet unsteadily, while the trainer worked with +his numb and aching arm. He winced with pain as he tried to throw to +see how badly his arm was damaged. While he was walking slowly back to +the bag, testing his arm anxiously, McCarthy had the second shock. The +cheering in the stands drew his attention, and as he glanced toward the +crowd he saw a girl. She was sitting in one of the field boxes between +two men and she was staring straight at him. McCarthy lifted his cap, +as if acknowledging the tribute to the crowd, but really in salutation +to the girl, who flushed angrily. A wave of resentment stirred +McCarthy. He strove to think that she had failed to recognize him, yet +feeling that the cut was deliberate. + +Play had been resumed, but McCarthy's mind was not upon it. A sharp +yell from Swanson aroused him from his reverie just in time to see a +slow, easy bounding ball coming toward him. He leaped forward, fumbled +the ball an instant, recovered and threw wild. Two runners dashed +home, the batter reached second. McCarthy was thoroughly unnerved. A +few moments later he permitted an easy fly ball to fall safe in left +field without touching it. His errors gave the Maroons two more +scores, and, although the Bears rallied desperately late in the game, +it was too late, and they were beaten 5 to 3. + +A sullen crowd of players climbed into their 'bus under punishment of +the jeers of the crowd that gathered to see them start back to their +hotel. McCarthy, with his shoulder and head aching, but with his heart +aching worse, sat with his chin drawn down into the upturned collar of +his sweater, refusing to be comforted. The Bears were in second place, +half a game behind the Panthers, and he, McCarthy, had lost the game. +Williams was smiling as if pleased and McCarthy blazed with anger. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +_McCarthy Meets Helen_ + +"Come to the hotel parlor at eight this evening. I wish to see you." + +The note, hastily scribbled on hotel letter paper, was awaiting him +when Kohinoor McCarthy entered the hotel after the disastrous game. He +recognized the angular scrawled writing at a glance. Since the moment +his eyes had met those of Helen Baldwin during the game he had been +thinking hard. Her behavior had hurt him and the thought that she +deliberately had refused to recognize him stung his pride. The note +proved she had recognized him on the field. Either she was ashamed of +his profession or did not want the men with her to know that she knew +him. + +McCarthy ate a hurried dinner and paced the lobby of the hotel. He was +anxious to meet the girl, yet he felt a dread of it, an uncertainty as +to the grounds on which their acquaintanceship should be resumed. For +nearly half an hour he waited, growing more impatient with every minute +and wondering whether there had been a mistake. His mind was busy +framing a form of greeting. When last they met it had been as +affianced lovers. Now---- A rustle of soft garments brought him to +his feet and he stepped forward with outstretched hand to meet the +tall, slender girl who came leisurely from the hallway. Her mass of +light, fair hair framed a face of perfect smoothness. + +"Helen," he exclaimed quickly, "this is a pleasant surprise." + +"I wish to talk with you, Larry," she replied without warmth, as she +extended a limp hand, sparkling with jewels. + +"It is good to see you, Helen," he exclaimed, a bit crestfallen because +of her manner. "What brings you East? I was nearly bowled over when I +saw you to-day. I thought you did not know me, but I see you did." + +"Surely you did not expect me to bow to you there," she responded. +"Did you desire all those people to know that I had acquaintances in +that--that class?" + +"Then you chose to cut me deliberately?" he asked. + +"Don't be foolish, Larry," she replied. "A girl must think of herself +and I did not choose to have my companions learn that I was acquainted +with persons in that--profession, do you call it?" + +"Well, if you are ashamed of my profession"--he said hotly. + +"Nonsense," she interrupted him. "I simply did not desire to have +people see me speak to a person who earns his living sliding around in +the dirt on his face. That is what I wanted to see you about. What +new prank is this? Are you seeking notoriety?" + +"I am earning my living," he said. "Baseball is the only thing I could +do well enough to make money." + +"Earn your living?" The girl's surprise was sincere. "You haven't +broken with your Uncle Jim, have you?" + +The girl's eyes grew wider with surprise, and her tone indicated +consternation. + +"I have--or, rather, he has--cut me off," the boy explained rather +sullenly. "I tried to find a job--thought it would be easy here in the +East, but no one wanted my particular brand of ability, and I tried +something I knew I could do." + +"Then you--then your uncle"--the girl's consternation was real, and she +hesitated. "Then our engagement"---- + +"I thought that was broken before I left," he replied. "You said you +wouldn't marry me at all if I told Uncle Jim." + +"I thought you would be sensible," she argued. "Everyone at home +thinks you are sulking somewhere in Europe because of a quarrel with +me. Why didn't you write to me?" + +"After our last interview it did not seem necessary," he said. + +"Oh, Larry," the girl said, pouting, "you've spoiled it for both of us. +If you had done as I wanted you to do everything would have been happy, +and now you humiliate me and all your friends by earning your living +playing with a lot of roughs." + +"They're a pretty decent lot of fellows," he responded indignantly. + +"Why did you do it?" she demanded, on the verge of tears from +disappointment and annoyance. + +"I quarreled with Uncle Jim," he admitted. "I told him I wanted to +marry you, and he told me that if I continued to see you he'd cut me +off." + +"And you lost your temper and left?" she concluded. + +"Just about that," he confessed. "He told me I was dependent upon him, +and said I'd starve if I had to make my own living. Of course, I could +not stand that"---- + +"Of course," she interjected stormily. "I told you that he hated all +our family, but that if we were married he would forgive you." + +"I couldn't cheat him that way," he replied with some heat. "Besides +you had broken with me. I knew he hated your uncle--but I thought if +he knew you"---- + +"He would have," she said, "if you had given him a chance." + +"I told him I could make my living--a living for both if you would have +me," he confessed. + +"Playing ball?" Her tone was bitter. "And you had an idea you would +come East and make your fortune and come back and claim me?" + +"I did have some such idea when I left," he confessed. "It wasn't +until I was broke and unable to find work that I realized how hopeless +it was to think of you." + +"I couldn't bear being poor, Larry," the girl spoke with some feeling. + +"We were poor once. Be sensible. Go back home and make up with Mr. +Lawrence--and when I return"---- + +"I am making a good salary," he said steadily. "I can support two. If +you care enough"---- + +"I couldn't marry a mere ball player," she said, shrugging with disdain. + +"You used to like it when I played at the ranch and at college," he +retorted angrily. + +"That was different," she argued. "There you were a hero--but here you +are a mere professional." + +"But you attend games," he protested. + +"I had to to-day. I am on my way to visit Uncle Barney for the summer, +and his friend insisted upon taking us to the game." + +"Oh, see here, Helen," he protested. "He's your uncle, but everyone +knows he is crooked in politics and in business. Why do you accept his +money?" + +"He is very good to me--and I cannot bear to be poor again." + +"Then you will not"---- + +"Be reasonable, Larry," she interrupted. '"You know I cannot marry a +poor man." + +"Then it was only the money you cared for," he said bitterly. "Uncle +Jim said it was, and I quarreled with him for saying it--and it was +true." + +"You put it coarsely," she said coldly. "You cannot expect me to give +up the luxuries Uncle Barney provides for me and marry a ball player. +Unless you make it up with your uncle I shall consider myself free." + +A stifled exclamation, like a gasp of surprise, startled them, and a +rustle of retreating garments in the adjoining parlor caused McCarthy +to step quickly to the doorway. He was just in time to recognize the +gown. He realized that Betty Tabor had overheard part of the +conversation, and he wondered how much. + +"Some eavesdropper, I suppose," Miss Baldwin remarked carelessly. + +"She came by accident, probably to read, and departed as soon as she +realized it was a private conversation," he said warmly. + +"Then you know her?" she asked quickly. + +"Yes," he replied, realizing he had betrayed undue interest in the +defense. + +"Who is she?" the girl demanded. + +"One of the women with the team, daughter of the secretary," he +explained, striving to appear unconcerned. + +"Is she pretty?" + +"Why--yes--I don't know. She is very pleasant and nice looking." + +"Rather odd, isn't it, a woman traveling with a lot of tough ball +players?" + +"You are unjust," he exclaimed indignantly. "She is with her father +and Mrs. Clancy. Besides, the ball players are not tough--at least +none of them is while she is with the club." + +"You seem ready to rush to her defense," she remarked with jealous +accents. + +"Of course, I cannot let you think she is not a nice girl." + +"Of course not"----her tone was sarcastic. "Traveling around the +country with a crowd of men and eavesdropping in hotel parlors." + +"She would not do such a thing. You must not speak of her in that +way," he stormed indignantly. + +"I congratulate her upon having captured so gallant a champion," she +mocked. + +They were verging upon a sharper clash of words when a big man, heavy +of jaw and red of face, strolled into the parlor, not taking the +trouble to remove his hat. + +"Oh, here you are, Helen," he said. "I've been looking everywhere. +Time to start or we'll be late to bridge." + +"Uncle Barney," said the girl, rising, "this is Mr.--oh, I forget. +What is it you call yourself now?--McCarthy. I knew him when he was at +college. He plays on some baseball team--one of those we saw to-day. +Mr. McCarthy, this is my uncle, Mr. Baldwin." + +"I have heard of you often, Mr. Baldwin," said McCarthy coolly, +although fearful that Baldwin might remember him. + +"You're McCarthy, the new third baseman, eh?" asked Baldwin, without +offering his hand and merely glancing at the boy. "Saw you play +to-day. Too bad you threw that game away." + +"I"----McCarthy started to offer defense. + +"We must be going, Helen," said Baldwin. + +The girl extended her hand carelessly. + +"We hope to have the pleasure of seeing you again," she said. + +Baldwin, with a curt nod to the player, turned to leave the parlor and +McCarthy, seizing the opportunity, said: + +"As a favor, Helen, do not reveal my identity. Your uncle did not +recognize me as the boy he saw play on the Shasta View team." + +"You need not fear," she responded rapidly. "And, Larry, please be +sensible. Go home and make it up with Mr. Lawrence--and you may hope. +And," she added in a low tone, "beware of that girl." + +She hurried after her uncle, who had stopped and turned impatiently, +leaving McCarthy staring after her and frowning. After all, he thought +bitterly, his uncle was right. All she cared for was the money and not +for him. He had quarreled with his uncle, his best friend, who had +taken care of him since his childhood and who had made him his heir--on +account of her. He was free. Yes, he was free. + +He found himself wondering that he was happy instead of bitter over the +loss of Helen Baldwin. He knew now he never had loved her. With a +thrill of gladness came the thought of Betty Tabor. His jaw set, the +fighting look came into his blue eyes and he saw his way clearly. He +was not free. His duty was to the Bears. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +_In the Deeper Waters_ + +Two defeats at the hands of the Maroons sent the Bears into the final +game of the series desperately determined to win. Their pitching staff +was exhausted from the effort to stop the team which they had expected +to beat easily. + +The game was a brilliant exhibition of defensive playing on the part of +the Bears, who were driven back by the hard hitting of the Maroons. In +spite of the fierce batting of the Maroons the magnificent defensive +work of the Bears held their rivals to two runs, while by their +brilliant and resourceful attack and skilful inside work they had +scored three runs on five scattered hits, and at the start of the +eighth inning were holding grimly to their lead of one run. + +McCarthy, spurred by determination to redeem himself for the errors of +the preceding games, was giving a wonderful exhibition of third-base +play. The knowledge that Helen Baldwin, her uncle and a group of +friends were sitting in one of the field boxes directly behind him +urged him to greater efforts. It was his long hit in the sixth inning, +followed by a clever steal of third, that had enabled the Bears to gain +the lead which they were holding by their fast work on the infield. + +The Bears failed to score in their half of the eighth, and the Maroons +opened with a fierce assault upon Klinker that threatened to break down +the Bears' inner wall of defense. Swanson's brilliant stop and throw +of a vicious drive checked the bombardment, but a safe drive and a +two-base hit went whizzing through beyond the finger tips of the diving +infielders, and there were runners on second and third bases, one out +and a hit needed to turn the tide in favor of the Maroons again. + +The infield was drawn close in the hope of cutting off the runner from +the home plate. It was desperate baseball, and, as the infielders +advanced to the edge of the grass, each man knew that a line smash, a +hard-driven bounder between them, or even a fumble, probably meant the +destruction of their pennant hopes. + +The ball was hit with terrific force straight at McCarthy, who threw up +his hands and blocked desperately. The ball tore through his hands, +struck his knee with numbing force and rolled a few feet away. He +pounced upon it and like a flash hurled it to Kennedy at the plate, so +far ahead of the runner who was trying to score that he turned back +toward third, with Kennedy in pursuit. Swanson had come up to cover +third, and the runner from second base stood at the third bag watching +the play, ready to dash back if the runner, trapped between third and +the plate, managed to elude the pursuers and regain third base. +Kennedy passed the ball to Swanson, and as the runner turned back, +Swanson threw to McCarthy, who had fallen in behind Kennedy, leaving +the pitcher to cover the plate if the runner broke through in that +direction. The runner started to dodge, but McCarthy, without an +instant's hesitation, leaped after him and drove him hard back toward +third base, so hard that the runner went on over the bag and ten feet +beyond before he could stop. Like a flash McCarthy leaped sideways, +touched the other runner who was starting back to second base, and, +with a fierce dive, he threw his body between the base and the runner +who had overslid it and tagged him. + +Before he could scramble to his feet to claim the double play he heard +Clancy, excited in spite of his long experience, shouting: "Good +boy--nice work." As the umpire waved both runners out the crowd, +bewildered for an instant by the rapidity with which McCarthy had +executed the coup, commenced to understand and broke into a thundering +round of applause as he limped toward the bench. + +With that attack staved off, the Bears held the Maroons safe in the +ninth and closed the final Western trip of the team with a hard-earned +victory. They started homeward that evening with confidence renewed +and the men hopeful. + +The Bears were scheduled to stop en route to the home grounds to play a +series of three games against the Travelers, a team low in the standing +of the clubs, but one of the most dangerous of all. It was a slow but +heavy-hitting aggregation, and at times more dreaded than were the +stronger clubs. The series was a critical one for the Bears as, after +that, they would return to the home grounds to play all the other +games, with the exception of two against the Blues. + +McCarthy was happier and more interested than he had been since he +joined the Bears. Restlessly he awaited an opportunity to talk with +Betty Tabor. Since his interview with Helen Baldwin he had been +strangely jubilant for a young man who had just been discarded by the +girl to whom he was engaged. He wondered how much of the conversation +Betty Tabor had overheard, and worried about it. He wanted to explain +to her who Miss Baldwin was and how he had happened to be talking with +her, yet he knew it would seem presumptuous for him to broach the +subject. Why should Betty Tabor think enough of him to be jealous? +Yet, in spite of this, he decided that, at the first opportunity, he +would mention meeting Helen Baldwin. + +He went to bed annoyed and with an odd sense of being wronged. He +determined to see the girl at breakfast and almost decided to confide +in her the secret of his past life. But he did not see her at +breakfast. After a restless night he was among the first in the dining +car and he loitered, but the girl, usually one of the earliest risers, +slept late, and when the train reached the city of the Travelers she +went with Manager Clancy and his wife in a taxicab, while McCarthy was +bundled with the other players into the big auto 'bus. He failed to +catch a glimpse of her during luncheon and was in a bad humor when the +team made an early start for the ball park. + +The game was a runaway for the Bears. They piled up such a large score +during the early innings that Manager Clancy was able to take out +Morgan in the sixth and send Shelby, a second-string pitcher, to finish +the game, saving up more strength and skill to use at the finish. + +It was a jubilant crowd of players that returned to the hotel after the +game. They sang and laughed and were happy again. They had won, and +during the afternoon the Panthers, overconfident, had suffered two +defeats by the Maroons, leaving the teams again practically tied for +the lead. + +McCarthy spent the evening loitering around the hotel lobbies, still +hoping for an opportunity to see Miss Tabor, and she failed to appear +at dinner and was not with Mr. and Mrs. Clancy when they started out +for a car ride. He wandered aimlessly around until, abandoning his +quest, he went to his room disconsolately. It was not yet eleven +o'clock, but Swanson was preparing for sleep. As McCarthy came into +the room he stopped to laugh. The giant shortstop was in his pajamas, +on his back in the bed. With one bare foot he was holding a sheet of +paper against the head board, and with a pencil grasped between the +toes of the other foot he was laboriously striving to write. + +"What was you trying to do, Silent?" asked McCarthy, laughing harder. + +"Figuring my share of the World's Series receipts," responded Swanson, +laboring harder. "Clancy said he'd fine any one of us caught with a +pencil in his hand doping out these statistics," said Swanson, "and I +just had to know." + +They were ready to settle down for the night when the telephone rang in +the connecting room. The door between the rooms was ajar, and Swanson +sprang from bed to respond to the call. + +"Hello!" he said. "Hello! Yes, this is Williams's room, but he isn't +in just now. What? Oh, yes, I understand. I'll tell him. +Hello--hold a minute, here he is now." + +"Hey, Adonis," Swanson called to the pitcher, who was just entering the +room from the hallway. "Someone wants you." + +He handed the receiver to Williams carelessly and walked back into the +room, where McCarthy was stretched upon the bed reading. His face was +working rapidly as if trying to tell McCarthy something by lip signals. + +"I'm tired," said Swanson in a loud tone; "let's sleep late in the +morning." Then approaching McCarthy's bed he said in a whisper: +"Listen. Try to catch what he says." + +"Hello! Yes, this is Williams," said the pitcher brusquely. Then his +voice changed suddenly. "Yes, Ed, I know you. To-night? Aw, say, Ed, +I've got to have sleep! Can't it wait? I'll be there in a quarter of +an hour." + +He hurried out of the room, and before the door slammed behind him +Swanson had leaped from bed and was dressing with great haste. + +"Kohinoor, that was Easy Ed Edwards calling him." + +"What are you going to do?" inquired McCarthy. + +"Get a move on yourself," ordered the giant. "Something is up and I +want to know what it is. Wait a minute," he added as if by sudden +inspiration, and ran to the telephone. + +"Hello," he said to the operator. "Can you tell me where that call for +Mr. Williams came from just now? He has forgotten which hotel he is to +meet his friend at. Thank you," he said after a moment's wait. + +"Hurry. He's going to the Metropolis Hotel," he ordered. "We must +catch up with him." + +They dressed with the speed of men accustomed to changing clothing four +or five times a day, and before Williams had been five minutes on his +way they were racing for the elevator. Swanson, hastily leaping into a +waiting taxicab, ordered the driver to make all possible speed to the +corner nearest the Metropolis Hotel. + +"What is up?" asked McCarthy, as they settled back in the cushions of +the taxi as it lurched over the pavement. + +"There is something funny going on in this ball club," said Swanson. +"And I am going to find out what it is. Whatever it is, Williams is +mixed up in it. I want to find out why he is meeting Edwards to-night +and what is up." + +"What do you think?" asked McCarthy. + +"I haven't got it figured out," said Swanson, scratching his head. +"There has been something wrong for two weeks. Ever since you joined +the club Williams hasn't been natural. He acts mysterious off the +field and worse than that on it. He has only won one of his last three +games, and ought to have lost them all the way he pitched." + +The taxi jerked to a stop at the corner opposite the hotel, and +Swanson, after reconnoitering carefully, led the way across the street +and into the café. + +"I used to know this place like a book when I was hitting the booze," +he said. "They'll be in here--or I don't know Williams. Let's take +the corner booth so we can see who comes in and goes out." + +Five minutes later two men came through the swinging doors from the +hotel lobby. Swanson could see them, but McCarthy was out of the range +of vision. Swanson drew back deeper into the booth. + +"Who is it?" inquired McCarthy in a whisper. + +"Sh--h! It's Williams and Edwards. They're going into the booth next +to us. Put your ear close to the partition. I'd give a farm to hear +them." + +The players sipped their soft drinks, while in turn they strove to hear +what was passing in the next booth. Occasionally they could +distinguish a voice, but the words were unintelligible. Ten minutes of +vain listening ensued. Then a heavy man in evening clothes hurried +into the café, and after a hasty glance into the booths entered the one +in which Edwards and Williams were waiting. + +"I wonder who that fat man is?" whispered Swanson. + +"It's a lucky thing he didn't recognize me," replied McCarthy in low +tones. "That's Barney Baldwin, the broker and politician, one of the +big men of this part of the country--and a crook." + +"Whew," whistled Swanson. "Let's sneak. We can't hear anything--and +the water is getting deep." + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +_Baldwin Gets into the Plot_ + +The events that led up to the midnight conference between Barney +Baldwin, Ed Edwards and Adonis Williams in the booth at the Metropolis +Hotel that night would have been of vast interest to several millions +of baseball enthusiasts had they known of them. + +They started with the arrival of Easy Ed Edwards in the city of the +Travelers. He had run down to watch the game between the Bears and the +Travelers in rather a pleasant frame of mind. His plans for a huge +gambling coup seemed to be working out well, and, with the Panthers +holding a lead of a game and a half, with but eleven more games to be +played, he was adding to his line of wagers. The double defeat of the +Panthers and the easy victory of the Bears had placed a new aspect on +the league race, with the Bears again favorites. Edwards had left the +baseball park in the middle of the game in a frenzy of anger. It was +too late now for him to attempt to lay off his bets, and he stood to +lose more than $100,000 if his plans to have the Panthers win the +pennant from the Bears went astray. It was in this mood that he +returned to the hotel and commenced to make drastic plans. In the +lobby of the hotel he encountered Barney Baldwin. + +"Hello, Barney," he said, shaking hands with the broker. "What brings +you down?" + +"Hello, Ed," replied the big man cordially. "Let's have a drink. I've +been away a month out West visiting the family. Brought my niece on +East with me. Just got home and heard that things are going wrong, so +I ran over here last night to see what sort of cattle have been +breaking up my political fences while I've been gone. What brings you +over here?" + +"Baseball--ran down to see the game to-day. Rotten game." + +"Didn't know you were interested in baseball," said the politician. +"I'm pretty well satisfied with the situation--both my clubs up there +fighting for the lead, and I'm getting it coming and going." + +"Both your clubs?" ejaculated the gambler. "I knew you had some stock +in some club. How much of the Bears and Panthers do you own?" + +"Well, I can control both in a pinch. I don't pay much attention to +them. I let the fellows I hire as presidents of the clubs do the +worrying." + +"If you own both these clubs you and I can do a little business," said +the gambler, lowering his voice. "Come on up to my rooms and we'll +have our drinks sent up there where we can talk." + +"I haven't much time, Ed," protested Baldwin. "I want to meet some of +the boys down here and learn how the political situation is stacking +up." + +They ascended to Edwards's rooms and when they were seated the gambler +rang for wine, and, leaning forward, said: + +"You want your man, Hoskins, to go to the Senate when the Legislature +meets this winter?" + +"Why--not exactly--my political plans are rather indefinite. Hoskins +is an acceptable man"---- + +"Oh, chop it," said the gambler sharply. "There's no use for us to try +to fool each other. You want to put Hoskins over and you know you're +going to have a deuce of a time crowding him through." + +"Admitting that to be the case, what then?" + +"I think I can push it over for you," the gambler said easily. "Up +home I've got four members of the Legislature where they will do what I +say--and perhaps can handle two others. With those four your man would +go over--if you've lined up as many members as the papers say you have." + +"Rather early to count noses," Baldwin started to protest. "We may +line up several others"---- + +"Nothing doing!" exclaimed Edwards sharply. "You've got all you +can--the others are lined up either with the high brows or against you +under Mullins. I can deliver four, possibly six, of Mullin's votes +that he counts as sure." + +"What do you want out of it?" The politician was interested at last. + +"Does it make any difference to you whether the Bears or the Panthers +win?" Edwards put the question as if casually. + +"It don't make any difference to me," Baldwin retorted curtly. "I'm +not a bit interested in baseball--except to make money out of the +teams. I bought the stock as part of a political deal--to help someone +out--and it turned out a good investment. What has that to do with it?" + +"Baldwin," said the gambler, leaning forward again and speaking in low +tones, "you see to it that the Panthers beat the Bears out in that +pennant race, and I'll deliver you at least five votes for your man." + +"That's easy," remarked Baldwin. "I can turn that quickly enough, but +I don't see where you get off." + +"You make it a sure thing and I'll tend to my own part of it," said the +gambler. "I'll get mine, but I'm not so certain you can do it as +easily as you think." + +"Why not--don't both clubs belong to me?" + +"Sure they do," said the gambler, "but baseball is a hard thing to +monkey with. You've got to handle it carefully, for if the fact came +out we'd be in such hot water we'd both scald." + +"Nonsense," said Baldwin testily. "I'll call the presidents in, +explain what I want and let them do it." + +"Keep off that stuff," warned the gambler. "You don't seem to know +much about this game. If you tried to tell Clancy to lose this pennant +he'd run straight to some reporter, and the whole country would be up +in arms. I shouldn't wonder if they'd lynch you." + +"Then how do you propose having it done?" asked the political boss, for +once willing to listen to advice. He had no qualms of conscience. To +him baseball meant a game, and the fact that hundreds of thousands of +persons in all parts of the country were vitally interested either in +the Bears or the Panthers did not count with him. He only sought the +easiest and safest way to accomplish his ends without arousing +suspicion. + +"I have one of the Bears fixed," said Edwards. "But I'm afraid of him. +He is crooked and willing to deliver, but he is yellow--lacks +courage--and he is likely to fail to deliver just when I need him most. +The first thing I want you to do is to help stiffen this fellow's +backbone. After that we'll try to get at someone else. If you say +it's all right and promise to protect them we will find it easier." + +"This must be a big thing for you, Edwards," suggested Baldwin as +another drink was served and the waiter departed. + +"I don't mind telling you that if the Bears win I'll almost be +smashed," replied the gambler angrily. "I was fool enough to play the +game myself. I picked the Panthers to win and made a lot of scattering +bets all summer. Then Carson, the Bears' third baseman, broke a leg. +They tried to keep it quiet as long as possible. I had a friend in the +club who tipped off to me an hour after it happened that Carson's leg +was smashed in two places. I jumped right in and plunged, thinking +that without Carson the Bears hadn't a chance. Then along comes this +blanked red-head and turns it all upside down." + +"What red-head?" + +"McCarthy--that kid third baseman. He's been winning games right along +that they ought to have lost, and it looks as if the Bears will win out +anyhow--unless you can stop them." + +"McCarthy, eh?" Baldwin smiled patronizingly for the first time. "My +boy, don't worry. You may know baseball better than I do--but you've +hit something I know about. I think I can handle this McCarthy. I +believe you can get ready to deliver those votes. I must be going now." + +"I'm going to send for that pitcher I've got fixed, to-night," said +Edwards. + +"Have him down about ten, or a little later," suggested Baldwin +genially as he arose to leave. + +It was the arrival of Baldwin in the barroom to attend the meeting with +Adonis Williams and Easy Ed Edwards that Silent Swanson and Kohinoor +McCarthy saw--and it was well for McCarthy's peace of mind that he did +not hear what transpired at that meeting. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +_Williams Caught in the Net_ + +Baldwin, by nature, was pompous and patronizing. In his capacity as +political boss, representing certain more or less questionable +financial interests, he distributed political patronage with an air of +one bestowing great favors personally. + +Baldwin's rise to riches and to a certain degree of power had been a +strange one. He had been a bartender, and had by a certain selfish +economy and "touching the till" acquired sufficient money to purchase +the saloon in which he was employed from the honest German who had +trusted him almost to the verge of bankruptcy. Certain wealthy men and +some others interested in public utilities had seen in Baldwin a proper +catspaw, and, in a small way, had used him in politics. From that he +had developed quickly into an official collector of graft money from +disorderly houses, saloons, and gamblers. + +Baldwin had become more and more independent financially and more +powerful politically as he learned the game. He was shrewd and quick +to learn. His share of the collections became larger and larger until +in time he was admitted to the higher circle of graft, and, having +served his apprenticeship, he had others to collect for him and take +the greater risk of going to prison. Eventually, by cunning catering +to big interests, he became the political boss of his city, stockholder +in several public utilities, and head of a brokerage firm, which he +maintained more to account for his possession of wealth than to do +business, although favored in many instances in bond deals. His +purchase of stock in baseball clubs had been incidental. He knew +little of the game and cared less. He was satisfied with the large +returns on the stock and avoided publicity in advertising himself as +owner of either team through fear of causing an increase in the demand, +"Where did you get it?" + +Easy Ed Edwards, while waiting in the booth of the Metropolis Café, had +told Adonis Williams the name of the man for whom they were waiting. + +"Now get wise, Adonis," he advised, in friendly tones. "I'll tip you +to something no one outside a few is on to. Baldwin owns this club +you're pitching for, and he owns the Panthers. I had it from him +to-night that he wants the Panthers to win the pennant this season. +You toss off a game or two to help him and you'll be strong with him +for life. You know he holds this State in his vest pocket." + +"Ain't I trying my best?" said Williams. "Clancy won't let me work +often now. He was working me to death until a couple of weeks ago and +now he's always saving me for some other team. I asked him to get in +to-morrow. Maybe I'll work. If I do I'll make good and lose it." + +"Here he comes now," said Edwards in a low tone as Baldwin came +pompously into the barroom in search of them. "I'll talk and let you +hear what he wants." + +"Ah, here we are," said Baldwin pompously, as he discovered them. +"Order a bottle of wine, Ed, and introduce me to your friend." + +He already was well warmed with drink and looser and less cautious in +his conversation than customary. + +"Glad to meet you, Williams," he said as Edwards went through the +formalities of introduction. "I've seen you pitch. Had a good season?" + +"Fair," said Williams, striving to appear modest. "I've won twenty-six +and lost eleven--some of them tough ones, especially lately." + +"Sorry to spoil your record, my boy," said Baldwin patronizingly, "but +you must lose a few more for the interests of all concerned." + +"Not so loud, Baldwin," warned Edwards. + +"All right, all right," assented Baldwin unvexed. "Let's have another +bottle. + +"Now, young fellow," he continued in a low tone when the drink was +served, "you know who I am. I don't forget my friends. That's my +motto. Anyone who does anything that helps me, or helps a friend of +mine"---- + +He paused to wave his hand indicating that Edwards was the friend. + +The man was half drunk and too loose with his talk to please the more +cautious gambler. + +"Adonis here is all right," said the gambler suavely. "I don't blame +him for being a little bit cautious. You see, Barney, Adonis wasn't +sure the big men behind the game wanted it to go that way and I don't +blame him. I wanted him to understand how the owners feel." + +"I'm wise, I guess," said Williams, warming with the wine. "All I need +is the chance, and I'll make the Panthers win it." + +"You understand," Baldwin said pompously, "it won't do at all for +owners to have anything to do with the games; that's the reason I don't +care to have my name mentioned in connection with the Bears or the +Panthers, but in this case it is to all our interests to have the +Panthers win. My boy, I'll take care of you well, if you deliver the +goods." + +"You may count on me. We have ten more games to play, and I ought to +work three, maybe four. I can lose two or three and make it a cinch." + +"That's the talk," said Baldwin genially. "You know which side your +bread is buttered on." + +"Yes," remarked Edwards, "he does--but he wants it on both sides. He's +had chances already to end this race, and won instead of losing." + +"I couldn't help it," retorted Williams. "You know, Ed, I tried to +lose, but that red-headed four-flush was lucky enough to keep me from +it. You know I don't dare to make it too raw. Clancy might get +suspicious." + +"This McCarthy seems to be the trouble maker all 'round," suggested +Baldwin. "With him eliminated it ought to be easy, hadn't it?" + +"Him a good ball player!" ejaculated Williams angrily. "Say, he's a +bum. He's just lucky." + +"I don't want any more such luck," sneered Edwards. "The next time +you're in there you lose the game right--you hear? Let them get a big +bunch of runs right quick so no one can save the game." + +"Maybe Clancy won't let me pitch," objected the star whiningly. "I +can't make him let me pitch." + +"I'll see to that," said Baldwin casually. "I'll see the president in +the morning and have him tell this Clancy to let you pitch. Then he'll +put you in." + +"Don't be too certain of that," said Edwards. "Clancy usually runs the +team to suit himself--and he plays to win." + +"You leave that to me," replied Baldwin complacently. "I usually get +what I want. Meantime, I think I can fix this young fellow Mac. I'll +have a little talk with him in the morning." + +"Don't let him find out that you know either of us," warned Edwards. +"He's a pretty cagey young fellow from what I hear." + +"Trust me for that," said the big man. "I've handled wise fish before +now, and landed them without using a net." + +"You know anything about him?" inquired Williams. + +"Yes--and no. Anyhow I am pretty close to someone--a woman--who knows +him and knows all about him." + +"I wish I did," snarled Williams, now growling mean from the effects of +drink. "Who's the woman?" + +"She's someone whose name won't appear in this matter," replied the +politician reprovingly. "She's a relative of mine. I think he is in +love with her and she turned him down cold. Let's have another bottle +and break up the party." + +"He was in love with her?" asked Williams eagerly, as a plan for +revenge flashed through his mind. + +"I believe so," said Baldwin carelessly. "Family affair. Never heard +the details. Of course she couldn't marry a fellow of that class." + +The three men emerged from the booth, Williams and Baldwin flushed and +unsteady from the drink, Edwards cold and revealing not a trace of the +wine. + +"Williams, you'd better go out the front door," he said quietly. "It +wouldn't do for you to be seen around the lobby with us at this hour." + +Fifteen minutes later Swanson and McCarthy, in their beds, heard +Williams enter the adjoining room unsteadily and hastily prepare for +bed. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +_McCarthy in Disgrace_ + +Events crowded upon each other rapidly the following day. The first +was a telephone call soon after breakfast that summoned Manager Clancy +to the Metropolis Café. + +"Hello, Mac," said Clancy gladly. "How you hittin' em? Haven't seen +you in an age. How's tricks?" + +"Pretty good, Bill. You're looking fine," replied McMahon, manager of +the café, who in his youth had played ball on the team with the now +famous Clancy. "I was worried about something I heard this morning and +thought I'd send for you. I couldn't come up." + +"What is it? Let's have a drink--make mine grape juice." + +"When I came down this morning Johnny, the night man, told me one of +your players was in here until after midnight last night," said the old +ball player. + +"Which one?" demanded the manager angrily. + +"He didn't know him, except that he was a ball player. He was a +sandy-haired fellow, rather slender and wiry looking." + +"McCarthy--maybe," said the manager thoughtfully and worried. "I +didn't think that bird would do it. Something funny." + +He had leaped at the identification. + +"That isn't the worst of it, Bill," continued McMahon, "that fellow was +with Easy Ed Edwards and a big fat guy in a dress suit." + +"What?" demanded Clancy, starting indignantly. "Sure of that?" + +"Johnny knows Ed Edwards. They sat in the booth over there and had +four quarts of wine, and the player was pretty well lighted up when +they got out." + +"Thanks, Mac," said Clancy worriedly. "This is tough news at this +stage of the game. I'll have to take a look into it." + +Clancy, his weather-beaten face furrowed with a heavy frown, walked +slowly back to the hotel. + +President Bannard, of the Bears, was waiting for him in the lobby. + +"Good morning, Bill," he said. "You're out early. I wanted to see +you." + +"Had some business downtown and went out an hour or so ago," replied +the manager. "What's the woe?" + +"Who's going to pitch to-day?" asked the president. + +"I don't know. I never decide in advance," responded the manager +carelessly. "Guess it will be either Wilcox or Williams--whichever one +looks best warming up." + +"If it's all the same to you," said the president diplomatically, "I +wish you'd let Williams work." + +"Why?" demanded Clancy, on the defensive in an instant. + +"It's this way, Bill," explained the president. "You know I don't own +this club. I've got most of my money in it, but another fellow has +control of the stock. He is going to the game and he asked me to let +Williams pitch, as he never has seen him work." + +"Williams hasn't been very steady in his last three games," remarked +the manager thoughtfully. "I don't want to risk this pennant to please +anyone, no matter if he owns the whole league." + +"Well, you said yourself that your choice was between Williams and +Wilcox, so I can't see it makes any difference." + +"You know I don't like to announce pitchers ahead of time," said the +manager. + +"It seems to me the owner ought to have a right"---- + +"Now look here, Bannard," said Clancy sharply, "when I signed this +contract it was with the agreement that I was to run the business on +the ball field and let your end of it alone. I'm perfectly willing to +oblige a stockholder, but I'm going to win this pennant, and I'll do +what I please with the playing end of the game. If Adonis looks good +warming up he'll go in, if he don't I'll send someone else to the +slab--and that goes." + +"Well--have it your own way"; the president had surrendered entirely to +the aggressive manager. "Put him in if you can, and if you can't I'll +explain that he wasn't right--twisted himself or something." + +Clancy went to his room puzzled and annoyed and, as usual, he sought +advice and enlightenment by consulting Mrs. Clancy, whose abundant good +nature and portliness formed a striking contrast with his seriousness +and slenderness. + +"Willie," she said, laying down her sewing after Clancy had stood at +the window, whistling and gazing out for ten minutes without saying a +word. "Well, Willie--who has broken a leg or sprung a Charlie horse +now?" + +"Nothing much, mother," said the big manager quietly. "Nothing +much--just worrying a little over the way things are going." + +"Bill Clancy," she ejaculated indignantly. "Do you think you can fool +anyone with that talk? Do you think I could live with you eighteen +years, come next Martinmas, and not know when you're in trouble? Tell +your old lady what it is." + +"Sure, mother," he said fondly, coming to put his arm around her waist. +"Haven't you enough troubles of your own?" + +"Me have troubles?" She was indignant. "Nothing troubles me but +worrying over those pesky boys of yours. What's wrong now, Willie?" + +"One of the boys out skylarking last night--and drinking." + +"Saints forgive him," she said piously, but with a note of relief. +"Sure you'll not be fining the poor boy? Perhaps he needed a drink or +two to keep up his courage." + +"Nothing like that, mother," he replied seriously. "This was one of +the young fellows out with some gamblers drinking wine till past +midnight. It looks serious." + +"Now, Bill Clancy, you just send for that boy to come right up here and +talk it over. Tell him he must behave and explain what it means to all +the boys. Then you'll shame him and he'll be a good boy. They're all +good boys," she protested earnestly, "only they do try a poor woman." + +"I guess that's the best plan, mother," he said. "You trot over into +the other room and I'll have him up." + +"Which one is it this time, Willie?" + +"McCarthy!" + +"McCarthy--why, Willie, he wouldn't--there's some mistake. That poor +boy wouldn't do such a thing. And him grieving his heart out because +Betty Tabor won't treat him well any more. That's what's the trouble, +Willie." + +"We'll see what it is," said the manager, checking her flow of defense +curtly. "I'll have him up. You run into the other room with the +sewing and--don't listen." + +His telephone call found McCarthy in his room, and the young third +baseman promptly ascended to the manager's apartment and entered +innocently. + +"Good morning, Boss," he said, following the burlesque style of +greeting used by the Bears to their manager. + +"Good morning," said Clancy curtly, as he scrutinized the face of the +player for signs of a debauch and found the blue eyes clear and fresh. + +"You wanted to see me?" inquired McCarthy, thrown a little off his easy +bearing. + +"Yes--where were you last night?" + +"I--in my room"--he suddenly remembered the excursion with Swanson. "I +was out for a while," he concluded lamely. + +"Were you in the café of the Metropolis Hotel late?" + +"Yes," confessed McCarthy, bridling at the tone employed by the +manager. "I was in there." + +"Drinking?" + +"Yes--lemonade." + +"Nothing stronger?" + +"No." + +"No wine?" + +"No--I'm not in the wine class." + +"Who were you with?" + +"You're the manager," said McCarthy quietly, although he was rebellious +inwardly. "You may ask me anything you want to about myself or my +actions--but you surely don't expect me to tell on anyone else?" + +"I don't want you to tell on any ball player--but who were you with?" + +"I'm not at liberty to tell." + +"You needn't tell me--I know," said the manager angrily. "You got up +out of bed to go there to meet Easy Ed Edwards--and you were with him +while three of you drank four quarts of wine." + +For an instant McCarthy clenched his hands until the nails bit into the +palms, and a flood of angry color flashed into his face. With an +effort he controlled himself. + +"You've got everything backwards," he said at last, gazing straight at +the angry manager. "I can't explain just now--but you'll find out some +day--and apologize." + +He turned without another word and left the room. Clancy, who had +expected angry denials, threats, perhaps a personal encounter, sat +gazing at the closed door, and then to himself he said: + +"It looks bad, but hanged if I don't believe him. No fellow could lie +and look like that." + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +_McCarthy Defies Barney Baldwin_ + +"Pardridge, playing third base in place of McCarthy, Holleran in left. +Morton and Kennedy, battery for the Bears." + +This announcement, bawled by a battery of megaphone men in front of the +crowded stands that afternoon was the first intimation that McCarthy +had of the contemplated action of Manager Clancy in taking him out of +the game. He sprang from the end of the bench, where he was tying his +shoes, toward the manager, an angry exclamation on his lips, and his +blue eyes flashing as they narrowed to the battle slit. Swanson, who +was sitting next him, fondling a bat, seized McCarthy with his +tremendous grip and jerked him back to his seat. + +"Steady, boy, steady," the big Swede cautioned. "Take your medicine. +Show your gameness." + +"I'm laid off," said McCarthy as if astonished. "It isn't right. He's +laying me off for something he thinks I did"---- + +"Don't quit--be game," cautioned Swanson. "Tell me about it to-night." + +McCarthy was miserable, and his face revealed it. Swanson, hardened by +years of facing such little tragedies, of seeing the hearts of young +players broken under such punishment, sympathized, but preserved a +cheerful demeanor as he selected his bats and prepared for the battle. + +"Buck up, Jimmy boy," said Swanson, sitting down beside him and +pretending to be retying his shoe laces. "We'll win this one anyhow, +and to-night we'll have a talk with Clancy after he cools down. I can +square things with him." + +The comforting words of the kindly, big shortstop helped McCarthy. +Clancy did not look toward the youngster, who sat huddled in his heavy +sweaters on the opposite end of the bench watching the game and going +over and over in his mind the circumstances that had led to his +punishment and banishment from the team. + +The game proceeded rapidly. The Bears scored a run in the second +inning on Swanson's long drive against the left field fence for three +bases, and a fly to the outfield, on which Swanson came by sliding +under the catcher. In the fourth the Travelers evened up the score on +an error by Pardridge, who, off his balance by his sudden change of +position, threw wild and allowed a runner to score from second base. +The score remained tied until the fifth, neither team being able to hit +the opposing pitcher's delivery hard enough to send home a run. Then +Pardridge misplayed an easy bounder and, recovering, hurled wildly +toward second base, striving to force out a runner coming down from +first. His throw went on high and far into right field, one runner +scored, the batter was perched on second and the crowd was in a tumult, +thinking that the inevitable break had come. A crashing base-hit sent +home another runner, and with the score 3 to 1 against them the Bears +faced one of the supreme tests of nerve of the season. + +Gamely they rallied in the fifth and again in the sixth inning, but +failed to reach even terms again as Carver, the best pitcher of the +Travelers, was holding them by clever work. Each time they forced men +to within reaching distance of the plate he settled, and using more +speed, checked the attacks and made the game one sequence of +disappointments for the Bears. + +The seventh inning proved uneventful, although the crowd arose and +stood to urge the Travelers to make certain the victory and "rooted" +with the unholy glee that all crowds show over the downfall of a +champion. + +The eighth commenced. A base on balls paved the way and gave the Bears +a chance to exhibit their resourceful style of attack which had +overthrown so many opposing teams. The Travelers played deep, +believing that with two runs needed to tie the score the Bears would +not attempt to sacrifice, and Noisy Norton hooked his bat around +quickly, dropped a bunt down the third-base line, and beat the ball to +first base before Pickett, the third baseman of the Travelers, who had +been caught asleep, could reach the ball. + +McCarthy glanced toward the seat where Edwards, the gambler, sat. Easy +Ed's face was hard and set. He gripped the front of the box. The +gambler's iron nerve was shaken. Swanson rushed to the plate, swinging +two bats, and crouching, he pushed his bat back and forth as if +determined to lay down a sacrifice bunt. The Traveler infield crept +closer to stop the bunt. One ball was pitched wide. Again Swanson +crouched, and as the second pitched ball came whizzing up he made a +sharp, quick lunge; the ball went like a flash across first base, as +Davis dived vainly toward it, rolled onto foul ground, and before the +right fielder could retrieve the ball as it glanced along the front of +the stands, two runs were across the plate and the score was tied. + +McCarthy looked again. Edwards's usually stony face was writhing with +fury and disappointment as he leaned forward. The panic had seized the +Travelers. The infield was pulled close to intercept the runner at the +plate, and the shortstop, over anxious to make the play, fumbled the +easy grounder. Before the inning closed five runs were across the +plate; the Bears had snatched victory from defeat, and they clung to +their lead and won 6 to 3. + +As the last batter for the Travelers went out on a long fly to the +Bears' center fielder, McCarthy saw Edwards rise and hurl his cigar +viciously against the floor of the box, then turn to gaze long and +earnestly toward the Bear bench. Suddenly he gave a nod of his head +and McCarthy, following the line of the gambler's gaze, saw Williams +flush and then pale, as he turned to help the bat-boy pack the clubs. + +McCarthy had intended to follow Swanson's suggestion and to plan with +Swanson what course to adopt in explaining to Manager Clancy how +matters stood, but he did not have the opportunity. Waiting in the +lobby of the hotel when he returned, he found Barney Baldwin, who +accosted him. + +"You're McCarthy, the fellow my niece, Miss Baldwin, introduced me to, +aren't you?" he asked pompously, pretending to be uncertain of the +identity. + +"Yes." + +"Well, young fellow, I want to have a quiet little talk with you. Come +up to my room at the Metropolis as soon as you get dressed. It's +important." + +They talked for a few minutes and McCarthy promised to come to the +Metropolis after dinner. He hastened to his room, and to his +disappointment found that Swanson had dressed hastily and already was +gone. Nor did the big Swede come to dinner, and McCarthy was compelled +to leave the hotel without seeing him in order to keep his engagement +with Baldwin. + +He was ushered into a pretentious apartment in the Metropolis, where +Baldwin was awaiting him, with a bottle of wine in the cooler at the +side of the table and a box of choice cigars at hand. + +"Sit down, my boy, sit down," urged Baldwin cordially. "Have a drink +and a cigar." + +"Thanks--I'll smoke. I'm not drinking," said McCarthy quietly. "You +wanted to see me?" + +"Yes. You see I called Helen up over the long distance to-day and had +quite a talk with her about you. She dropped a few hints before she +left and I wanted to hear more of you." + +"Then she told you who I am?" + +"She told me you were a young man of good family and that you were +playing under an assumed name--but, of course, having promised, she +wouldn't tell more." + +"Now, I know how it is. You're in some trouble at home and just +bull-headed enough to refuse to give in. I admire you for it, my +boy--but it is youthful folly. Helen tells me she was engaged to you, +but broke off the engagement because you wouldn't go back home and quit +baseball. Now I want to see the thing in the right light. You come +and run down to my summer place with me to-morrow, spend a week or two +there with Helen, get things straightened out, and meanwhile I'll act +as peacemaker and fix things up so you can go home and eat the fatted +calf." + +"You've tackled a tough job," said McCarthy, grinning in spite of +himself at the mental picture of his uncle receiving overtures in his +behalf from Barney Baldwin, his bitterest enemy. + +"I'm certain it is a mere trifle when looked at in the right light," +urged Baldwin. "I can explain things. I'll wire your people that you +are visiting with us, and we'll forget all about this baseball +foolishness. Better come along." + +"I thank you for your good intentions, Mr. Baldwin," replied McCarthy +quietly, "but it is impossible. In the first place, the plan you +suggest would be about the worst possible--and more important than +that, I can't quit the team until it wins the pennant." + +"Now we're getting down to cases, my boy," said Baldwin, smoking +easily. "I want you to go, for your own sake, but I also want you to +go because I don't want the Bears to win that pennant. They haven't +treated you right, and they can't blame you if you quit." + +"You want me to throw the pennant race?" demanded McCarthy angrily. +"That's why you want me to leave the team, is it? I'll see you in +h---- first--I'm in bad with the manager--but I won't quit the team." + +"Now, now, my boy," interrupted Baldwin soothingly. "Take a sensible +view of it. It's for the best interests of all concerned. It don't +mean anything to you if you run back home, square yourself with the +family--and quit interfering with our plans." + +"You're a crook, Baldwin," said the third baseman threateningly. "My +uncle, James Lawrence, always said you were a crook and a thief, and +now I know it. I wouldn't quit now for all his money and all yours +together. I'll stick to the team and we'll win this pennant in spite +of you and your rotten gang." + +The effect of his words caused him to stop in surprise and alarm. The +big man, who had been sipping his wine, suddenly grew apoplectic and +sat staring at him. Baldwin stared at the slender youth as if at a +ghost. Suddenly he lurched forward as if to arise, and emitted a +torrent of oaths. + +[Illustration: Baldwin stared at the slender youth] + +"You Jim Lawrence's nephew?" he half screamed. "You his boy? Well, by +----, I'll break you. I'll fix you--I'll"---- + +He pitched forward as if in a fit, and McCarthy, after ringing for +assistance, waited until the house physician had revived the big man, +then hurried back to his hotel, puzzled and excited and vaguely alarmed +over the developments of the evening. + +Swanson was not yet in the room. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +_McCarthy Balks the Plotters_ + +It was past two o'clock when McCarthy was awakened from his troubled +sleep by the entrance of Swanson. + +"Hello, Silent," said McCarthy sleepily. "What time is it?" + +"Past two," said the shortstop, for once seeming unwilling to talk. +"Better get to sleep--you'll be in again to-day." + +"Where have you been?" asked McCarthy, wide awake in an instant and +interested. + +"Trailing," replied Swanson. "I've found out a few things. Meanwhile +I had a talk with Clancy. You little squarehead, why didn't you tell +him I was with you? Do you want to get yourself in bad by some fool +notion of protecting me? I couldn't tell him what we were doing--but I +told him you were with me, that you weren't drinking, and that you +weren't with Edwards." + +"What have you been doing all night?" asked McCarthy, restored to +happiness by the tidings. + +"Finding out things. I trailed Williams downtown right after the game. +He had dinner with Edwards in a private room. I couldn't find out what +happened, but Williams came out looking as if he had been jerked +through a knot hole. Then Edwards met that fat party that had you in +his room." + +"Is he in it, too?" asked McCarthy. + +"Yes--who and what is he?" + +"His name is Baldwin. He's a big politician and broker here in the +East and I knew him out West, where he owns a ranch." + +"What did he want with you?" + +"He wanted me to quit the team and run back home. I told him where he +got off. The idea of asking me to quit the boys now, when they may +need me!" + +"I can imagine what you said," laughed Swanson. "Did you kick him on +the shins and try to make him fight?" + +"I wanted to," replied McCarthy savagely. "I can't see where he gets +into this affair at all. There's something queer all round." + +"Listen, Kohinoor," said Swanson. "Someone wants to beat the Bears out +of this pennant, and whoever it is is turning every trick possible to +beat us. I suspect they've got to Williams and that he is trying to +throw games, and I've been working all night trying to get the goods on +him. We can't run to Clancy with a yarn like that unless we're ready +to prove it. Now go to sleep and get ready to win to-morrow's +game--to-day's, rather." + +McCarthy lay staring, sleepless, into the darkness, his brain whirling +as he strove to penetrate the maze of intrigue and plotting of which he +seemed the center. Half an hour passed, then, as he turned in bed, a +sleepy voice from the next bed asked: + +"Asleep, Kohinoor?" + +"No." + +"Then quit worrying. I had a talk with Betty Tabor to-night, and you +needn't worry. She don't believe all she hears." + +"What did she say, Silent?" asked McCarthy, sitting up in bed suddenly. + +"Aw, go to sleep," responded Swanson, as he rolled over, chuckling at +the manner in which McCarthy had betrayed his interest. + +It was nearly noon when Swanson and McCarthy descended to the hotel +lobby in better frames of mind. + +Manager Clancy, serious and worried, was talking with a gray-haired man +and a younger man. McCarthy observed them and grew uncomfortable under +their close scrutiny as the three turned toward him and focussed their +eyes upon him. He felt relieved when the smaller man shook his head +positively and was not surprised a moment later when Clancy came +forward toward him and said frankly: + +"Forget it, Kohinoor. Case of mistaken identity." He grasped +McCarthy's hand and gave it a crunching grip as he added: "When you get +ready to tell me what you know I want to hear it." + +The manager did not attempt any further apology, but McCarthy felt as +if a load had been lifted from his mind. + +"I can't make any charges until I have proof," he replied steadily. +"If ever I can back up what I suspect, I'll tell you--first." + +"Swanson explained partly," said the manager. "I understand. Get in +there to-day and hustle." + +It was the final game of the trip and the Bears, with confidence +renewed, went into it determined to rush the attack and win quickly. +When the batting practice started McCarthy was surprised to find Lefty +Williams pitching to batters. He faced Williams and hit the first ball +hard and straight over second base. Williams was lobbing the ball +easily, as if warming up. Twice Clancy called to him to quit pitching +to batters, and he shouted back that his shoulder felt a little stiff +and he wanted to limber it up easily. McCarthy stepped to the plate +again. Up to that time Williams had not pitched a fast ball, but he +wound up quickly and flashed a fast-breaking ball straight at +McCarthy's head. The third baseman dropped flat and the ball, just +grazing the top of his head, carried away his cap. He knew Williams +had tried to hit him. He remembered his part in the deeper game he and +Swanson were playing, and he decided not to reveal the fact that he was +aware of Williams's intent. He leaped back into batters' position and +yelled: + +"Keep that bean ball for the game. You'll need it." + +He saw that Williams was white and shaken, and the next ball came +floating over the plate without speed. McCarthy swung at it, without +attempting to hit it. Another slow one floated over the plate and +again McCarthy made a burlesque swing, missing the ball a foot. +Williams flushed scarlet and stepping quickly back into position he +drove a straight fast ball at the batter. McCarthy was on his guard. +Drawing back slightly he allowed the ball to touch his shirt, and when +Williams, angrier than ever, hurled another fast one at him he stepped +back and drove it to left field for a clean hit. + +As he hit the ball he heard Clancy call angrily to Williams to come off +the slab, and the pitcher, white with anger at the contempt the recruit +had shown for his pitching, sullenly obeyed. + +"That fellow tried three times to bean you," said Swanson in low tones +as they walked to their positions after retiring runless in the first +inning. + +"I know it," said McCarthy. "I coaxed him along. I think we can make +him pitch to-day by telling him that we don't think he can." + +The plan was adopted. For two innings the shortstop and third baseman +harassed the pitcher. + +Under the running fire of taunts, criticisms and sarcasm Williams +pitched harder and harder, furious at his teammates, and venting his +anger upon opposing batsmen. + +"Say, you guys," remarked Kennedy on the bench after the fourth inning. +"Have some pity on me. You've got Adonis so mad he's smashing my mitt +with his speed. Better ease off on him or you'll have him in the air." + +The Bears had accumulated two runs and seemed winning easily in the +fifth, when, before a runner was out, McCarthy, cutting across in front +of Swanson to scoop an easy-bounding ball, played it too carelessly, +fumbled and allowed the first batter to reach first base. The error +was common enough, but allowing the first batter to reach a base on an +easy chance was serious at that stage of the game. Williams turned +upon McCarthy and gave him a violent rebuke. McCarthy was not in a +position to respond. He saw that, in spite of his angry words, +Williams seemed pleased by the error. An instant later a drive whizzed +past him and then another screamed by him en route to left field. A +run was across the plate, runners on first and third and no one out. + +"Trying to toss off this one?" demanded Swanson angrily. "You big +stiff, pitch ball." + +The next batter sacrificed, and again Williams broke the ball low and +inside the plate to a right-handed hitter. The ball came like a shot +at McCarthy, who dived at it. It rolled away toward Swanson, who +recovered just in time to throw out the runner at first, but another +run had counted and the score was tied. Another hit screeched past +McCarthy, another run counted and the Travelers were one run ahead +before the attack could be stopped. + +The Travelers held their advantage to the eighth, when, rallying +desperately, the Bears drove home two runs by sheer force of hitting +and the ninth found them hanging to a one-run lead. They failed to +increase their advantage in the first half of the inning and took the +field determined to hold their lead. McCarthy was puzzled. He thought +Clancy knew what was happening on the field and had expected each +inning that the manager would rebuke Williams when they returned to the +bench. Instead Clancy had remained strangely silent. + +Tuttle, the first batter for the Travelers in the ninth inning, hit a +fierce bounder down the third-base line. McCarthy, knowing Tuttle to +be a right field hitter, was swung a little wide from the base. He +threw himself out toward the line, his hands extended to the full +limit, and the ball stuck in one outstretched hand. Scrambling to his +feet he threw hard and fast to first, retiring the speedy runner by a +step. The next batter hit fiercely between third and short and +Swanson, by a great play, retrieved the ball back on the edge of the +grass, but could not throw the runner out. The next batter, a +right-hander, hit a vicious single past McCarthy and there were runners +on second and first. + +McCarthy felt the next drive would be toward him. He believed Williams +was striving to lose the game, and that he was pitching so as to compel +the batters to hit in the direction of third base so that the baseman +and not he would be held responsible for the defeat. He gritted his +teeth and crouched, waiting, as Watson, the heaviest-hitting +right-handed batter in the league, faced Williams. Crouching, he saw +Kennedy signal for a fast ball high and outside the plate, and then saw +a straight easy ball sail toward the batter, low and inside. Watson +swung. McCarthy saw a flash of light and threw up his hands just in +time to keep the ball from hitting him. The ball broke through his +hands and rolled a few feet away. His hands were numb to the wrists +from the terrific shock. He stood still one trice. Then he saw the +runners were stopped, bewildered. They had lost sight of the ball, so +rapidly had it traveled and had stopped, thinking he had caught it. He +leaped after the ball, framing the play as he touched the spinning +sphere. He could have run back to third base and forced out one, but +instead, as his numbed fingers gripped the sphere, he saw the +possibility of a double play and threw fast and straight to Swanson, on +second base, forcing out the runner coming from first. Swanson, +catching the idea of the play in an instant, hurled the ball back to +McCarthy, who grabbed it and touched out the runner coming from second, +completing a double play that brought the crowd to its feet in applause +and saved the game. + +McCarthy heard the cheers, but he was cold with suppressed anger as he +walked to where Williams was standing, and said: + +"Williams, you're a d----d crook." + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +_"Technicalities" on the Job_ + +The Bears were going home holding grimly to their claim upon first +place in the league race. With but seven games remaining to be played +all were against clubs already beaten, and five of the seven were +against clubs considerably weaker in every department. Two games were +to be played off the home grounds. + +The statisticians were busy calculating that the Bears had a decided +advantage in the race, yet they were not happy in the homecoming. The +ride home was only a few hours long, and they had caught the train +immediately after the sensational finish of the final game with the +Travelers in order to reach home and get settled by midnight. + +Swanson and McCarthy sat together as the train pulled out, talking in +low tones. + +"I think Clancy is onto him," said Swanson. "Just sit tight. It isn't +our move yet. The Boss acted queerly on the bench to-day and has been +watching Williams all the time, while pretending not to. I'm going to +mingle and see if any of the other fellows are wise to him." + +Hardly had Swanson left the seat than McCarthy was surprised by +"Technicalities" Feehan, who sat down in the seat vacated by the +shortstop. + +Feehan was one of the odd characters developed by the national game, a +reporter who had traveled with the Bear teams for so many years the +players regarded him as a sort of venerable pest who hadn't seen a ball +player since Williamson's day, and never such a catcher as Mike Kelly, +a first baseman like Comisky or a fielder like Tip O'Neil. He +sometimes was called "Four Eyes," from the fact that he wore large, +steel-rimmed glasses of great thickness, and his other name was +"Technicalities." + +He was not at all interested in baseball, excepting as a business. His +chief interest was in the Children's Crusades, and he had spent eight +years of his spare time in libraries all over America digging out data +for his history of those remarkable pilgrimages which he had written +and rewritten half a dozen times. Not being a baseball fan he was +eminently fair and unprejudiced, and the players thought more of the +quiet, studious fellow than they did of the excitable and the partisan +reporters who joined their sports and their woes. + +"Mr. McCarthy," he said seriously, "did you observe anything strange in +to-day's game?" + +"Several strange things," assented McCarthy. "Among them that error I +made early in the game." + +"I mean things of an unusual nature," persisted Technicalities. "I was +struck by an odd phenomenon and thought perhaps you noticed it. I find +it more perplexing as I study my score books." + +"What was it?" inquired McCarthy, cautious not to betray any interest. + +"Did you, for instance, observe anything strange about the hits in your +direction?" + +"I noticed that those that didn't have cayenne pepper on them were +white hot and came like greased lightning," laughed McCarthy. "I +expected to find my right leg playing left field any minute." + +"I was speaking numerically, although, of course, the speed of the hits +enters into the phenomenon." + +"They did seem to be coming my way rapidly," agreed the third baseman. + +"In to-day's game I find," continued the statistician, "that there were +eighteen batted balls hit in the direction of third base. You had five +assists and one error and caught two line drives. I do not include +foul balls, of which six line drives went near third base. Of these +eighteen batted balls, fourteen were hit by right-handed batters and +four by left-handers. The fourteen right-handed batters hit balls +pitched inside the plate, the four left-handers hit balls outside the +plate, that is, outside to them, so that practically every ball batted +toward you was pitched to the inside of the plate, that is, the +catcher's left. I have checked these statistics and find them correct." + +"Well, what of it?" asked McCarthy. + +"In the preceding games--in which you played third and in which +Williams has pitched--I find that an average of twelve and a fraction +batted balls per game have been hit toward third base, exclusive of +fouls. In the games in which you have played and in which Williams has +not pitched the average is six and a trifling fraction. You have +averaged seven and one-fourth chances per game--legitimate +chances--with Williams pitching, and a trifle under three chances per +game when he was not pitching. Does it not seem remarkable?" + +"Perhaps so," assented McCarthy. "I never studied such statistics." + +"The phenomenon is the more remarkable," added the strange little man, +"because the average chances per game of the third basemen of five +leagues, two majors and three Class AA for the last five years has been +2 and 877-998. It is impossible to construe the figures to mean but +one of two things." + +"What are they?" asked McCarthy, curiously interested. + +"Either it is mere coincidence or Williams is deliberately trying to +lose this pennant and to make you shoulder the blame." + +"That's a pretty stiff charge," remarked McCarthy, amazed at the +deductions of the reporter, which fitted so well the suspicion, +gradually becoming a certainty to his mind. + +"Either he is pitching purposely to make the opposing batters hit balls +at you," insisted Feehan, "or it just happened--and things do not just +happen in baseball with that regularity." + +"Possibly he is wild and can't get the ball over the plate." + +"On the contrary," persisted Feehan, "he has perfect control. If he +did not possess control he could not pitch so many balls to the same +place." + +"I'm immensely grateful," said McCarthy, touched by the kindness of the +odd reporter. "It's good of you and I shan't forget it." + +"I deserve no thanks," insisted Feehan. "It's merely in the line of +square dealing and justice--and, speaking of justice, McCarthy, did you +ever take interest in the Children's Crusades? Let me show you some of +the data I dug up recently"---- + +He delved into his little bag, which was his constant companion, and, +drawing forth a mass of scattered, disordered notes, he went into +raptures of enthusiasm while describing to the player some new features +of the disappearance of the French children and of the sojourn of +hundreds of them as slaves in African harems. + +A great throng of admirers was waiting in the station to welcome the +Bears back from their successful trip. Swanson and McCarthy finally +escaped from the crowd, and, jumping into a taxicab, were whirled to +the hotel, where Swanson had secured rooms for both. + +The hour was growing late, but after they had deposited their baggage +in their rooms, Swanson proposed a walk and a late supper. It was +McCarthy's first visit to the city which he represented upon the ball +field and its magnificence and greatness made him forget the worries +and troubles of which he seemed the center. He even forgot to detail +to his chum his strange interview with the reporter until they were +seated in a quiet nook of one of the great restaurants. Then, in +response to some jesting allusion to the Children's Crusades by +Swanson, he told the big shortstop of the array of statistics Feehan +had presented. + +"He's a square little guy," said Swanson. "And he's got more brains in +that funny-looking little head of his than this whole bunch has. He +dopes things out pretty nearly right, and when he is convinced that he +is right he goes the limit. Between us there is a certain left-handed +pitcher who is in hot water right now and don't know it. Speaking of +the devil," he added quickly, "there's his wings flapping, and look who +he is with--across the far corner there, at the little table." + +McCarthy's eyes followed the route indicated and suddenly he lost +interest in his food. At a small table were Williams, Secretary +Tabor--and Betty Tabor. + +McCarthy was silent and moody during the walk back to the hotel and +seemed to have lost interest in the great glaring city, which was just +commencing to dim its illumination for the night. They were in bed +with the lights out when Swanson said: + +"Cut out the worrying, kid. I wouldn't have a girl no one else wanted. +Besides, either her father has been told by Clancy to watch that crook +or else Betty Tabor is stringing him along to learn something. She +despises Williams, and she wouldn't laugh at him or eat with him unless +she had a purpose in it." + +McCarthy could have blessed him for the words, but he assumed a dignity +he did not feel and said: + +"I don't see why I should be especially interested." + +"Cut out the con stuff, Bo," laughed Swanson, relapsing into his old +careless baseball phraseology. "You dope around like a chicken with +the pip and look at her like a seasick guy seeing the Statue of Liberty +and then think no one is onto you." + +Reply seemed inadvisable, so McCarthy grunted and rolled over. There +was a silence and then Swanson added: + +"And say, Bo, this Williams is in trouble. There's me and you on his +track. Clancy is wise and watching him. Old Technicalities has him +doped crooked in the figures, and now Betty Tabor is smiling at him to +get the facts--he hasn't a chance. It's darn hard to fix a baseball +game." + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +_Baldwin Baits a Trap_ + +"Willie says that one petticoat will ruin the best ball club that ever +lived, but lands knows that if some of us women don't get busy right +away there's one ball club that's goin' to be ruined without any +rustlin' skirts to be blamed." + +Mrs. William Clancy, her ample form loosely enveloped in a huge, +flowered kimono, dropped her fancy work into her lap and fanned herself +with a folded newspaper. + +"Why, Mother Clancy," ejaculated Betty Tabor, sitting on a stool by the +window of the Clancy apartment, "one would think to hear you talk that +we had lost the pennant already." + +"Now, there's Willie," continued Mrs. Clancy, ignoring the protest, +"goin' round with a grouch on all the time like he could bite nails in +two. There's that nice McCarthy boy frettin' his heart out because you +haven't treated him nicely, and Swanson worryin' about something. And +there's Williams sneakin' round like he'd been caught robbin' a hen +roost." + +"Mother Clancy," protested the girl, reddening, "you have no right to +say I haven't been treating Mr. McCarthy well. A girl cannot throw +herself at a man--especially an engaged man." + +"How do you know he's engaged?" demanded Mrs. Clancy. "Lands sakes, I +haven't heard him announcing his engagement, and he looks at you across +the dining room as sad as a calf chewing a dish rag." + +"I overheard--I saw the girl," admitted Betty Tabor, blushing as she +bowed her pretty head over her work. "She was telling him she wouldn't +marry him if he continued to play ball--besides, Mr. Williams met her +uncle, and he said they were engaged." + +"Is she pretty?" demanded Mrs. Clancy. + +"Beautiful," admitted Miss Tabor. "She's tall and fair and graceful, +and she had on such a wonderful gown all trimmed"---- + +"It looks to me," interrupted Mrs. Clancy, cutting off the description +of the dressmaking details heartlessly, "as if someone was just +jealous." + +"Why, Mother Clancy," said the girl, shocked and red, "you must think +me perfectly frightful to believe I'd act that way." + +"Oh, girls your age are all fools," said Mrs. Clancy complacently. "I +reckon I was myself at your age. Why, if Willie even spoke to another +girl I'd go out and hunt up two beaux just to show him I didn't care. +You went out with Williams when we came in last night, didn't you?" + +"Yes; he asked papa and me to late supper," the girl admitted. "But it +really wasn't what you think. I wanted to find out something from +him--something that's been worrying me." + +"Did you find out?" asked the older woman skeptically. + +"I don't know, Mother Clancy." The girl's face grew troubled. "I'm +worried. I know Mr. Williams hasn't any money. Papa says he is so +reckless he always is in debt, and lately, whenever he talks to me, he +talks about the big sums he's going to have. I asked papa what it was, +and he only grunted." + +"He'd better pitch a lot better than he has been if he's counting on +any of that world's series money," remarked Mrs. Clancy savagely. +"McCarthy saved yesterday's game twice." + +"You think Mr. Williams didn't want to win the game?" The girl's voice +was tense with anxiety. + +"I hate to say it--but it looked that way." + +"Oh, Mother Clancy, I haven't dared to say a word to anyone about it," +said the girl hesitatingly, "but I've been afraid for days. He said +something to me that almost frightened me. He hinted that Mr. McCarthy +was losing games on purpose. I didn't believe it--and somehow I got +the idea Mr. Williams was betting on the Panthers." + +"Now, you just keep your mouth shut about this," replied Mrs. Clancy, +pressing her lips together determinedly. "I've had that same idea, and +I think that's what's worryin' Willie. You just lead that fellow on to +talk and I'll put a bug in Willie's ear. Only," she added, "Willie is +likely to snap my head off for buttin' into his business. He's got to +know, though." + +Clancy came into the apartment soon afterward and Betty Tabor, making a +hasty excuse, gathered up her fancy work. + +"It's going to rain," remarked Clancy resignedly. "I think the game +will be called off. If the game's off, I've got tickets to a theatre, +and you and mother and I can go. Which one of the boys shall I ask to +go with us?" + +"If you don't mind," replied Betty Tabor steadily, "ask Mr. Williams." + +The rain came down steadily and before one o'clock the contest was +called off. The postponement was believed to lessen slightly the +chances of the Bears to win the pennant, and they lounged dismally +around the hotel, watching the bulletin board record the fact that the +Panthers were winning easily, giving them the lead in the race by a +small fraction in percentage. + +Manager Clancy, his wife and Betty Tabor, with Williams rode away in a +taxicab to the theatre. McCarthy declined Swanson's proposal to play +billiards, and, going to their rooms, he commenced to read. Presently +five of the players trooped in, led by Swanson, to play poker, and, +shoving McCarthy's bed aside, ignoring his protests, they dragged out +chairs and tables and started the game. Scarcely had they started when +the telephone bell rang and Swanson answered: + +"No, he's not up here," he said. "No. Who wants him? All right, put +them on. Hello! Who is this? Oh, all right. No, Williams isn't +here. Yes, I'm sure. He went out with the manager an hour ago--to a +theatre, I think. All right. I'll tell him." + +"Fellows," he said, as he hung up the receiver, "some friends want +Williams to meet them as soon as he can. He'll know where. Fellow +says it's important." + +He glanced meaningly at McCarthy, who nodded to show that he +understood, and as he sat down he remarked: + +"Kohinoor, I guess it's up to us to go to a show or something to-night." + +"All right," replied McCarthy, striving vainly to continue his reading, +while puzzling over the fresh development. + +At that same instant there was an acrimonious conversation in progress +in the room from which the telephone summons for Williams had just +come. Easy Ed Edwards hung up after his brief talk with the player at +the other end of the line, an ugly gleam in his cold eyes. + +"He isn't there," he reported to Barney Baldwin, who was sitting by the +table, jangling the ice in a high-ball glass. "Either he's trying to +cross us or he's playing wise and keeping his stand-in with the +manager." + +"Sure he isn't trying to cross us?" asked Baldwin. "He won yesterday's +game instead of losing as he agreed to do." + +"He tried hard enough to lose it," sneered the gambler. "He tossed up +the ball and those dubs couldn't beat him. I tell you you've got to +handle that red-headed kid at third base as you promised you would. He +saved that game twice. We've got to get rid of him." + +"He's stubborn," snarled Baldwin. "I tried to get him to quit the team +and go back home. He's as bull-headed as his uncle, and that's the +limit." + +"You know who he is?" queried the gambler in surprise. "Why don't you +tell the newspaper boys and show him up. That would finish him. He's +under cover with his identity, and if we can prove he hasn't any right +to play with the Bears they'll have to throw out the games he's won." + +"That's just the trouble," replied Baldwin bitterly. "He's straight as +a string. He never played ball except at college. We can't tell who +he is because that would prove he's all right and make him stronger +than ever." + +"Who is he?" inquired the gambler. + +"He's the nephew of old Jim Lawrence, of Oregon, one of the richest men +out there. Lawrence is his guardian. They had some sort of a run-in +and the boy left." + +"How do you know these things?" demanded the gambler. + +"The boy and my niece were sweethearts at home. I coaxed her to tell +me when I discovered she knew him. They were engaged once, I +understand, but it was broken off." + +"Then," said Edwards determinedly, "get your niece on the job. If +anyone can handle that fellow a woman can." + +"Oh, I say," protested Baldwin, with a show of indignation, "I can't +ask her to get into anything like this." + +"She probably was willing enough to get into it until she thought the +boy didn't have any money," replied Edwards coldly. "I don't want the +girl to do anything wrong. Just get her to make up with this McCarthy, +or whatever his name is, and get him away from this ball team for a +week. Baldwin, this is getting to be a serious matter with me, and +with you, too, if you want to hold your political power." + +"All right, all right," said Baldwin hastily. "Maybe I can persuade +the girl to help us out. I'll try." + +"You'd better succeed--if you want to send your man to the Senate," +said Edwards threateningly. + +"I'll go right away," assented the politician. + +Baldwin arose leisurely, went down to his limousine that was waiting +and ordered the man to drive home, although it was his custom to remain +downtown until late. At home he sent at once for his niece, and, after +a brief talk, during which he was careful to hint that McCarthy had +made overtures toward reconciliation with his uncle, the girl went to +the telephone. + +McCarthy, summoned to the telephone, talked for a few moments and, as +the poker game broke up, he called Swanson aside and said: + +"You'll have to go alone to-night. I've got to make a call." + +"Who is she?" asked Swanson insinuatingly. + +"Barney Baldwin's niece--and at his house." + +"Run on, Kohinoor," said the big shortstop. "I'll take Kennedy with me +and if I'm not mistaken you'll find out more than I will." + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +_McCarthy Makes a Call_ + +It was a little past seven o'clock, when McCarthy, arrayed in what +Swanson referred to as his "joy rags," which had been rescued from +impound in an express office after his first renewal of prosperity, +came out of the hotel. He was undecided, wavering as to whether or not +it was wise for him to keep the appointment to call on Helen Baldwin. + +They had met during his college career, and, after a courtship that was +a whirlwind of impetuosity on his side, she had agreed to marry him. +He recalled now, with rather bitter recollections of his own blindness, +her seemingly careless curiosity regarding the extent of the Lawrence +wealth and his own expectations. He had told her how, when his father +had died, Jim Lawrence had taken him to rear as his own child and heir. + +The boy had grown older and broadened with his short experience in the +world outside the protecting circle that had been round him in +preparatory school and in college, and he determined to write that +night to his guardian the letter he had so long delayed and to +apologize and admit that he had been headstrong and foolish. + +During the long ride uptown to the city residence of the Baldwins he +had time to think clearly. He knew that Barney Baldwin was wealthy, +but he was unprepared for the magnificence of the garish house, set +down amid wide lawns in the most exclusive part of the River Drive +section. + +Helen Baldwin entered the room in a few moments, and McCarthy gazed at +her in admiring surprise. + +She came forward with both hands outstretched, smiling, a strangely +transformed girl from the cold, half-scornful one with whom he had +parted only a short time before. + +"I wanted to see you so much, Larry," she said. "I have been so blue +and depressed since I--since we--since we last met. Why didn't you +call?" + +"I only reached the city last night," he replied as he took a seat +beside her on a divan. "And--well, Helen, I hardly thought you would +wish to see me." + +"You foolish boy," she chided. "Don't you know yet that you must never +take a girl at her word? Of course, I was annoyed to find you playing +baseball with a professional team, but I didn't mean we never were to +meet again." + +"I thought your ultimatum settled all that," he answered, ill at ease. +"It was rather a shock to find that you cared more for what I was than +for what I am." + +"You know, Larry, that you placed me in a painful position. It isn't +as if I were a rich girl, able to share with the man I love. My father +and mother are not rich, and Uncle Barney has supplied me with +everything. He has spoiled me--and I would make a wretched wife for a +poor man." + +"I would not have proposed marriage," said McCarthy quietly, "unless I +had thought I would be able to provide for you as well as your uncle +could. When circumstances were changed I could not ask you to +sacrifice yourself unless you were willing--unless you cared enough for +me to adapt yourself to the circumstances." + +"But, Larry, aren't you going to quit all this foolishness and go back? +Haven't you been reconciled with Mr. Lawrence?" she asked in surprise. + +"I expect to go back after the season is over and tell him how sorry I +am that I caused him trouble." + +"Please go, Larry. You'll go to please me, won't you?" she said +appealingly. + +"I cannot see why it would please you to have me quit now, when I'm +most needed," he replied stiffly. "Surely you cannot know what you are +asking." + +"It is such a little thing I ask," she pouted, "I'm sure you would if +you loved me." + +The girl's eyes were filling. She had found him easy to handle by that +appeal only a few short months before, but now, as he saw her, he was +seized with a desire to laugh, as he realized that she was acting. The +words of Swanson: "You'll find out more than we will," flashed into his +mind, and he determined to meet acting with acting. + +"Perhaps, Helen," he said softly, "if you could explain just why you +want me to quit playing I could see my way to do it." + +"That is being a sensible boy," she said, bathing her eyes with a bit +of lace. "I don't like to see you making an exhibition of yourself +before a crowd--for money." She shrugged her beautiful shoulders +disdainfully. + +"Is that all?" he asked quietly. + +"All? Isn't it enough? And then there's Mr. Lawrence. I know he is +worrying about you." + +"Any other reasons?" he inquired. + +"Then there's Uncle Barney"---- + +"What has Barney Baldwin to do with it?" His voice was sharp, and the +girl hesitated under his steady scrutiny. + +"You mustn't speak that way of my uncle," she said reprovingly. "I'm +sure he's only interested in you because of me. He says it is +imperative that you do not play any more with the Bears." + +"Then Barney Baldwin ordered you to telephone for me to come here?" he +asked harshly. + +"He merely wanted me to persuade you to quit that ridiculous game and +go back to Mr. Lawrence right away. He was only trying to save you." + +For an instant he sat staring at the girl steadily. Then he said +slowly: + +"What a fool I've been." + +"Oh, Larry, Larry!" she exclaimed, frightened by his manner. "What's +the matter--is anything wrong?" + +"Nothing wrong," he said, laughing mirthlessly. "Nothing wrong. You +may tell your uncle, with my compliments, that I will continue to play +with the Bears to the end of the season, and that, in spite of him and +his dirty work we will win that pennant." + +He arose and passed into the hall without a backward glance, ignoring +the sobs of the girl, who buried her face in her handkerchief and wept +gracefully, telling him between sobs that he was cruel. He took his +hat from the servant and strode rapidly down the steps, his mind a +turmoil of emotions. + +How far did the plot to beat the Bears out of the pennant extend? How +many were in it? Gradually he commenced to draw connected thoughts +from the chaos of his brain. He realized that he was the storm center +of a plot and that he was dealing with dangerous enemies. + +The girl he had left so abruptly continued her stifled, stagey sobs +until she heard the front door close. Then she sat up quickly, glanced +at her features in a wall mirror, brushed back a lock of ruffled hair +and rubbed her eyes lightly with her kerchief. + +"How he has changed," she said to herself. "He is getting masterful, +and three months ago one pout was enough. I could almost love +him--even without old Jim Lawrence's money. + +"At any rate," she said, looking at the handsome solitaire on her +finger, "I can keep the ring. He never mentioned it. I must go tell +Uncle Barney." + +She ran lightly up the stairs to the den where Baldwin, smoking +impatiently, was waiting for her. + +"Well?" he inquired. "Did you land him?" + +"Don't speak so vulgarly, Uncle Barney," the girl replied. "No, I did +not. He has grown stubborn. He told me to tell you he intended to +keep on playing to the end of the season, and that they would win--I've +forgotten what he said they would win. Does it make much difference, +just these few more games?" + +"Does it make any difference?" he stormed. "Any difference--why, you +fool, my whole political future may be ruined by that red-headed idiot. +Get out of here. I'm going to telephone." + +The girl, weeping in earnest now, hurried from the room as Barney +Baldwin seized the telephone. A moment later he was saying: + +"Hello, Ed. She fell down. He's stubborn and says he'll keep on +playing. You'd better see your man and break that story in the +newspaper. What? They got him? Where? Well, then, they've got the +wrong man. McCarthy left my house not five minutes ago." + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + +_The Fight in the Café_ + +Swanson left the hotel intending to pursue his volunteer detective work +only a few moments after McCarthy started uptown to respond to the +invitation of Miss Baldwin. He had remained lounging around the lobby +talking with Kennedy, the big catcher, until he saw Williams leave the +hotel by a side entrance and enter a street car. Then he signaled +Kennedy and they strolled out together and caught the next car. + +"It's Williams we're going to trail," was the only hint Swanson would +give at the start. + +"Williams?" snorted Kennedy. "You told me there was a chance for a +scrap. That guy won't fight." + +"Maybe those he's going to see will," replied Swanson encouragingly. + +Swanson did not know then that, only a short time before he made his +arrangement with Kennedy, Williams had pleaded over the telephone to +Edwards that he was afraid to meet him that evening, as requested, +because he thought Clancy might discover the fact and that Clancy was +already suspicious. Williams pretended alarm and convinced Edwards +that there was danger of someone following the pitcher, and on his way +to keep the appointment to meet the athlete he had drawn into the toils +of the conspiracy, he stopped at his gambling room and ordered Jack, a +big ex-prizefighter, to follow him to the meeting place and to keep +watch during the conference. + +It was growing dark when Edwards strolled slowly across town toward the +rendezvous. Williams's fear of being upbraided when he met the gambler +on that evening was unfounded. The gambler was convinced that the +pitcher had made every effort to lose the game and that he had been +balked only by luck and the fielding of McCarthy. He wanted to learn +from Williams whether or not there was any other player on the team who +could be bribed into assisting in the plot. + +Swanson and Kennedy trailing cautiously saw Williams jump off the car +and walk along the sidewalk, and, after riding past him, they descended +and walked along the opposite side of the street, keeping close in the +shadows of the tall buildings. A block further downtown they saw +Williams stop, look around suspiciously as if to see whether or not +anyone was following him, then turn up the side street and enter a +café. Swanson quickly led the way. They passed the saloon on the +opposite side of the street, and after walking half a block they +retraced their steps and stopped in a doorway opposite the entrance. + +"Let's wait here and see who goes in," suggested Swanson. + +"Whom do you expect him to meet?" inquired Kennedy. + +"Edwards," vouchsafed Swanson grudgingly. "He has been meeting that +crook for ten days now, and I want to find out what they're up to." + +"Why didn't you tell me before?" demanded Kennedy. "I'd kick his head +off"---- + +"We hadn't the goods on him," explained Swanson. "That's what I want +you for. If we can prove he's up to some crooked work"---- + +The big Swede menacingly folded his ponderous paw into a fist and +flexed his biceps. + +"Do you think he's trying to throw games? He's been pitching funny +ball lately," asked Kennedy. "I've had to fight him in every game to +get him to pitch fast." + +"What I think and what I can prove are different things," growled the +shortstop. "I've got my suspicions. Now we're after proof. Come on. +If he was to meet anyone there the one he was to meet is in ahead of +him." + +The players walked to the corner, crossed the street and went into the +saloon without an effort at concealment. The place appeared empty, +save for a bartender who was washing glasses behind the bar, and a +heavy, coarse-featured man lounging near the end of the bar with a +half-consumed high ball before him. + +"Gimme a beer," ordered Swanson, throwing a coin onto the bar; "what +you have, Ben?" + +"Make it two," replied Kennedy. + +There was no sign of Williams, and only a narrow doorway, leading +somewhere toward the rear, gave a clue as to his probable egress from +the barroom. + +The bartender, having rung up the amount of the sale on the cash +register, exchanged a few words in a low tone with the man at the end. +Then he strolled back and stood near where Swanson and Kennedy were +wasting time over their drinks. + +"We were expecting to meet a friend here to-night," remarked Swanson, +deciding to take a new tack with the bartender. "Rather tall, slender +young fellow. Has anyone been in?" + +"Young fellow came in a while ago something like that," replied the +bartender. "Seemed to be expecting someone, but turned around and went +out. Maybe that was him." + +They knew he was lying, and Swanson, without changing expression, said: + +"Must have thought he was in the wrong place, or too early. Maybe +he'll come back. We'll stick around awhile." + +Had they known what was transpiring in the private room just beyond the +doorway their interest would have been greater. The big man who had +stood at the end of the bar had gone at the first opportunity and was +reporting to Easy Ed Edwards, who grew venomous with hate, while +Williams sat shaking with fright. + +"I knew they'd get on. If they report to Clancy I'm done for," he said. + +"Shut up," ordered the gambler angrily. "They haven't seen you and +they don't know I'm here. Who are they, Jack?" + +"I don't know dem," said the ex-fighter. "Dey's a big, husky lookin' +guy, a Dutchman, I guess, wid a blue suit"---- + +"It's Swanson," said Williams. "He's been looking at me as if he knew +something for two or three days. He has followed me here." + +"De oder one is a smaller, wiry sort o' guy. Got on a light suit"---- + +"It must be McCarthy," whined Williams. "He's always with Swanson. +They're looking for me. I wish I had kept out of this." + +"Listen," ordered Edwards coldly. "This fellow McCarthy is the one we +want. If we can get him out of the way it'll be easy and I can get +even with that big, fat lobster, Baldwin, for trying to double cross +me. Jack, you go out there and get in a mix-up with them and take a +poke at the little fellow that'll keep him from playing ball for a +week. Is the bartender a friend of yours?" + +"One of me best pals," replied the ex-fighter. "Leaf it to me. I'll +land de punch dat'll fix dat fresh, young guy." + +The fighter strolled back to the barroom and resumed his stand at the +end of the bar, eyeing the two ball players. As he tapped the bar the +bartender walked to him. + +"I'm goin' to start somethin'," said Jack in a low tone. "Ed wants me +to punch de head offen dat youngest one." + +"That big guy looks hard to handle," commented the bartender. "Make it +quick. I don't like no rough house here. The license ain't any too +safe now." + +"I'm going back to see what's there," whispered Kennedy to Swanson. +"You stick here. I'll bluff it through." + +He walked toward the door leading back from the bar and started to pass +through it. + +"Here, young feller," said the bartender, "where you goin'?" + +"Washroom," replied Kennedy, keeping on through the door. + +"Naw you don't. Come back outen there," ordered the fighter angrily. + +"Who appointed you boss?" asked Kennedy belligerently. + +"Well, I'm boss anywhere I goes," declared the big fellow. "Youse stay +outen there. D'ye hear?" + +He grabbed the ball player by the arm--and at that instant Kennedy +swung. His fist caught the bruiser squarely on the mouth and he reeled +back, then, with a bellow of rage, he sprang at Kennedy. + +With a roar of anger Swanson hurled himself into the fray. Kennedy's +fist had caught the ex-fighter and cut his cheek open and blood spurted +upon both as they fought, the frail partition swaying under their +weight. Swanson leaped with his arm drawn for a knock-out blow, just +as Jack's right caught Kennedy upon the jaw and dropped him to the +floor helpless. The blow the Swede had aimed at the fighter hit him +upon the shoulder and slid over his head, and Jack, whirling, faced his +new adversary. Swanson sprang to close quarters with the giant and his +fist thudded home. Jack, groggy and already half spent from his +exertions, clinched and hung on. The Swede, now a man gone mad with +the lust of battle, shook him off, hurled the giant backward against +the partition, and, crouching, he prepared to swing his right, waiting +for the opening to the jaw, while Jack, groggy and half dazed, covered +his head with his arms and swayed. The blow never landed. Suddenly it +seemed to Swanson as if the worlds were crashing around his head. +Bright stars danced before his eyes, his knees gave way beneath him, +and with a foolish laugh he sank to the floor and rolled, helpless, +beside his fallen comrade. His last recollection was of hearing a +telephone bell jangling somewhere. + +The ringing of the telephone bell that Swanson heard as he lapsed into +unconsciousness was the call of Barney Baldwin for Ed Edwards. The +gambler, who, with his frightened companion, had heard the sounds of +the terrific struggle in the barroom sink into silence, spoke rapidly +for an instant, then, as Baldwin said: "They've got the wrong man," he +hung up the receiver with an oath and leaped toward the doorway. He +emerged upon a tableau showing his slugger, half dazed and hanging to +the partition for support, two figures inert upon the floor and the +bartender coolly walking back toward the bar, carrying a heavy +bung-starter in his hand, that explained the sudden ending of the fight. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +_Two Missing Men_ + +The disappearance of Silent Swanson and Ben Kennedy brought +consternation to the ranks of the Bears, consternation that increased +as the hour for starting the first game of the series against the +Jackrabbits drew near. McCarthy, returning to the rooms after his +surprising interview with Helen Baldwin, was determined to tell his +chum all that had taken place and to explain as well as was possible +the position in which he found himself. He planned to urge Swanson to +go with him to Clancy, and for that reason he postponed taking the +manager into his confidence. + +He hastened downstairs to breakfast, half expecting to find his chum +waiting for him in the dining room with an account of the night's +events. He finished breakfast in a troubled state of mind, and, after +wandering around the lobby for nearly an hour in the vain hope that +Swanson would appear, he encountered Noisy Norton, who appeared +disturbed and distressed. + +"Say," said Norton, "seen Kennedy?" + +"No--seen Swanson?" + +"They went out together," said Norton, with an unusual burst of +conversation. + +"Didn't Kennedy come home either?" asked McCarthy in fresh alarm. + +"No." + +They sat silent for some time, then Noisy said: + +"Something wrong." + +"What'll we do?" asked McCarthy anxiously. + +"Tell Clancy," said Norton, with an effort. + +They ascended the elevator together and rapped at Clancy's door. + +"Mr. Clancy," said McCarthy, when the manager had bade them enter, "I +ought to have come to you before. Swanson and Kennedy are missing. +They didn't come in last night--and we're worried." + +"Where were they?" demanded the manager quickly. + +"I was going with Swanson on an errand last night," said McCarthy. "We +were working on that matter that caused trouble the other day. Then I +had a telephone call and went to see a--a friend of mine. Swanson said +he'd take Kennedy with him. They left the hotel together, Norton tells +me, and they haven't come home." + +"Either of them drinking?" asked Clancy sharply. + +"Beer--sometimes--not often," said Norton. + +"Swanson hasn't been drinking at all," declared McCarthy. "Neither of +them would go off on a tear at this stage of the game." + +"You're right, Kohinoor," said Clancy worriedly. "It's something else. +They'll show up, all right. Thank you for telling me, boys, and don't +say anything about it." + +In spite of their silence, however, the rumor that the star catcher and +the shortstop were missing spread through the team. By noon the +players were openly discussing the whereabouts of the two players. +Clancy showed his anxiety. + +"Can't you tell me where they were going, Kohinoor?" he asked. "I +don't want to press you to reveal anything you don't want to, but I'm +afraid those boys are in trouble." + +"I haven't any idea where they were going," replied McCarthy. "I know +that they were watching a certain fellow, and that a gambler named +Edwards was mixed up in it." + +"You've told me plenty," said the manager in low tones. "I have +suspected it all along. I'm afraid they're run afoul of Edwards and +that he has managed to get them into trouble." + +"If he has he has his nerve," said McCarthy. "Look over there. He +just came in with a party of friends. I know the big man." + +"Who is he?" inquired the manager, watching the party just entering one +of the field boxes. + +"That's Barney Baldwin, the political boss," explained McCarthy. + +"Is he in this thing, too?" inquired Clancy, starting with surprise. + +"Yes, at least I think so. You see, I know his niece. It was at his +house I went to call last night. I discovered that he ordered his +niece to call me and had her try to persuade me to quit the team right +away." + +"Look here, Kohinoor," said the manager, drawing him aside so the other +players could not hear, "I'm sorry you didn't tell me this before. It +looks worse and worse all the time. He wanted you to quit--and now two +of my men disappear. You'll have to play short to-day, and we'll send +Pardridge to third. Get in there and hustle." + +Smith, the big spitball pitcher of the Bears, who had been held in +reserve, was chosen to pitch, and for three innings the teams fought +for the opening without a real chance to score. The cunning of Clancy +was shown in his choice of the big pitcher, whose speed and spitball +kept the Jackrabbit batters hitting toward right field or sending slow, +easy bounders down toward the pitcher. He had chosen Smith in order to +protect the weakened third base side of the infield, and his plan +worked well until the fourth inning, when Egbert, one of the speediest +of the Jackrabbit sprinters, hit a spitball on top and sent a slow, +weak roller toward third base. Pardridge made a desperate effort to +field the ball, but fell short, and the Jackrabbits discovered the weak +place in the defense. Two bunts rolled down the third-base line in +succession, and, although Pardridge, playing close in a desperate +effort to stop that style of attack, managed to throw out the second +bunter, runners were on second and third with but one out when +"Buckthorne" Black smashed a long hit over center for three bases and +scored an instant later on a sharp, slashing hit through Noisy Norton. +The three runs seemed to spell the doom of the Bears, and they came in +from the field angry, hot and desperate. The roar of the crowd grew +stronger when the score board showed the Panthers were winning their +game--5 to 1--from the Blues. + +McCarthy was first at bat in that inning. As he selected his bat he +glanced toward the stand and grew hot with rage at seeing Baldwin +laughing until red in the face and slapping Ed Edwards on the back. +The gambler's usually stony face wore a smile of relief. McCarthy +walked to the plate, pushed the first ball pitched down the third-base +line and outsprinted the ball to first. Norton strove to bring him +home, but his long-line drive went straight to the left fielder, and +when Holleran struck out it seemed as if the chance to score was lost +for that inning. McCarthy stood still, a few feet off first base, and, +as Randall wound up to pitch, he started at top speed for second base. +Jackson, catching for the Jackrabbits, saw him, grabbed the ball and +leaped into position to throw. Like a flash McCarthy stopped and +danced a step or two back toward first base, as if daring the catcher +to throw the ball. Jackson pretended to throw to first, and, as +McCarthy edged a step closer the base the catcher saw there was no +chance to catch him, and slowly relaxing from throwing position, he +took a step forward and started to toss the ball back to his pitcher. +In that instant McCarthy acted. He leaped forward, and, before Jackson +could recover and spring back into throwing position, the fleet Bear +was nearing second base, making a beautifully executed delayed steal. +Jackson threw, although it was too late. The ball, hurled over +hastily, broke through the second baseman's hands and rolled twenty +feet toward center field. McCarthy turned second at full speed and +raced for third, while Reilly tore after the ball, and, picking it up, +made a fast, low throw toward third. Again the ball escaped the +baseman, and McCarthy, without the loss of a stride, turned third base +and raced home, sliding under Jackson as he reached for the high-thrown +ball. + +The game had settled down to a desperate series of attacks by the +Bears, and a stubborn defense on the part of the Jackrabbits. In the +sixth and again in the seventh the Bears forced the attack, but each +time they fell short of scoring, and the eighth inning came with the +score 3 to 1 against them. Lucas, who was catching in Kennedy's place, +opened that inning, and the Bears' hope arose when he, the weakest +hitter on the team, was hit by a pitched ball. Smith drove a hard +bounder toward first, but O'Meara knocked down the ball and reached the +base in time to retire the big, lumbering pitcher, letting Lucas reach +second. Jacobsen struck out, and McCarthy, gritting his teeth, came to +bat. One strike and one ball had been called when, looking toward the +bench for a signal from Clancy, he saw a sight that made his heart +jump. In that fleeting glance he had seen Swanson, in uniform, coming +onto the bench through the little doorway under the stands. + +Swanson's eye was black and a strip of plaster extended from under his +cap onto his forehead. His face was swollen and discolored and a +bandage covered his head, showing under his cap. + +If he only could get on first base, McCarthy told himself, there was +hope, and, as the ball sped toward him he poked out his bat, dropped +another bunt toward third base, and, by a terrific burst of speed he +beat it to first base, sending Lucas to third. + +"Swanson batting for Holleran. Swanson will play shortstop, McCarthy +third base, Pardridge in left field." + +McCarthy had determined to steal second base, but the chance never +presented. The first ball that came whizzing toward the plate Swanson +hit. It went like a rocket far out to left center field. Two speedy +outfielders glanced at the flying ball, then turned and sprinted for +the outer barriers. The ball soared on and on, and with a crash struck +against the sign over the left field seats and fell back into the +throng in the bleachers, and while the crowd cheered and groaned three +Bears trotted around the bases to the plate. + +Swanson, running slowly and painfully, crossed the plate, with the +score that put the Bears in the lead. He did not stop. Straight +toward the box where Edwards and Baldwin sat, he went. His face was +terrible. They saw him coming, and Baldwin, apologetic with fear, half +arose, as if to cry for help. The gambler, white but still keeping his +nerve, shrank back a trifle, but held his seat. Swanson walked +straight to them. For an instant he towered over them threateningly, +then he said: + +"Good afternoon, gentlemen, I hope you're glad to see me." + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +_Swanson to the Rescue_ + +When Silent Swanson aroused himself from the effects of the blow on the +head from the beer mallet in the hands of the treacherous bartender, he +sat up feebly and found himself in semi-darkness. + +"Someone crowned me with a crowbar," he muttered to himself as his +brain gradually began to work normally. "They must have kicked me +after I went down." + +A faint groan from the heavy shadows near him startled him into a +realization of what had happened. He felt around for a moment and his +fingers touched the body of a man huddled against a wall. + +"It must be Ken--and he's hurt," he muttered, and crept toward his +companion. Swanson worked over him, shaking and speaking to him and +presently Kennedy stirred and sat up against the wall. + +"Where are we? What happened?" he inquired in a bewildered manner. + +"Search me," replied Swanson mournfully. "I was just getting ready to +swing the haymaker on that big fellow when the house fell. I think +someone beaned me from behind with a brick and then kicked us around. +Ouch--my ribs feel stoved in." + +"I'm sore all over," moaned Kennedy. "That fellow didn't do it all by +himself, did he?" + +"I have a dim recollection of hearing someone tell him to fix us +right," replied Swanson. "I may have dreamed it." + +"Let's get out of here," urged Swanson suddenly. "If some watchman +finds us here we'll be pinched, and it will make a nice story for the +reporters." + +"Where do you think we are?" asked Kennedy, striving to get to his feet +and groaning with every move. + +"In the alley back of the joint we were in," replied Swanson. "They +must have dragged us to the back door and dumped us." + +He had managed to get upon his feet, assisted Kennedy to arise, and +slowly and with many groans they went toward the mouth of the alley. + +"Let's go around to the front door and clean out that place," urged +Swanson, growing angry. + +Both men were commencing to recover from the effects of the cruel +treatment they had endured, and, as their injured muscles loosened +their anger arose. They made their way painfully around the block and +to the entrance of the saloon. It was locked and the place was in +total darkness. Swanson shook the barred doors without result, then +stood gazing blankly against the glass. + +"Say, Ken, we must have been knocked out for quite a while," he +remarked thoughtfully. "No one is here. They probably closed up as +soon as they threw us out--and we haven't a bit of proof against +anyone." + +"Wonder what time it is?" groaned Kennedy. "We've got to get to bed if +we want to play." + +"Holy Mackerel," exclaimed Swanson, using his favorite form of +swearing. "I forgot! That's it! Ken, after we were knocked out they +beat us to keep us from playing. Come on. We've got to forget about +fighting and get ready to play. I'll get even with someone for this." + +Swanson was thinking rapidly as they limped slowly along the darkened +streets in search of a night prowling cabman or taxi-cab, keeping a +sharp lookout for policemen, fearing they might be arrested because of +their battered condition. + +"We've got to get to somewhere we can be patched up and get some +sleep," he repeated, urging Kennedy, whose sufferings made their +progress slow. "We've got to keep those crooks from finding out where +we are. Let them think they've finished us and then show up in time to +play." + +"I don't think I can play, Silent," moaned Kennedy. "I can't drag +myself much farther." + +He was making a brave effort to keep on, and for another block Swanson +half supported him. Then he gave up and sat down upon the curbing. + +"Sit here," said Swanson quickly. "There is an all-night drug store a +couple of blocks down; I'll find a cab there." + +He limped away as rapidly as possible, and, almost before Kennedy +realized it, he returned in a taxicab. + +"Caught him just starting home," explained Swanson, as he half lifted +Kennedy into the tonneau. "He says there is a hospital less than a +mile from here where we can get treatment." + +The bruised and battered players groaned and swore under their breath, +while the cab made a rapid trip to the hospital, and half an hour later +they were resting easily in a private room, their wounds were being +washed and dressed and a young doctor was working hard to relieve their +sufferings. + +"We've got to play ball this afternoon, Doc," said Swanson, watching +the surgeon cut and wash the hair from the wound on his scalp. "Fix us +up right." + +"You'll not play ball this week," said the surgeon cheerfully. "Your +friend over there will be all right in a couple of days. He's badly +bruised and his hand is sprained, but not seriously. He's sorer than +you are, but by morning you'll be a cripple." + +"But, Doc, we've got to play," pleaded Swanson. "You've got to fix us +up." + +"I'll do all I can," remarked the surgeon. "But your right arm is +badly wrenched and bruised. The cuts won't hurt, but one of your eyes +will be out of commission for three or four days. Whose mule kicked +you?" + +Swanson, pledging the doctor to secrecy, revealed part of the truth. + +"You won't be able to play," he advised his patients, "and Kennedy must +take two days off at least." + +"I've got to play, Doc," responded Swanson, "if it's on one leg; I've +got to." + +It was a few minutes past noon when Swanson awoke with a start. The +nurse was in the room, moving about quietly, and Kennedy still slept, +moving and muttering in his sleep, as if dreaming of the battle. He +remained quiet for a few moments, and then said: + +"Nurse, please bring me my clothes." + +"You must wait until after breakfast," she said, coming to the bedside. +"Dr. Anderson was here a short time ago, and said I was to give you +your breakfast when you awoke, then call him." + +"But I'm in a hurry," protested the player. "I can't wait. They'll be +anxious about us." + +"The doctor said he would give you treatment and massage, so that you +could get out more quickly," she responded. "I'll bring breakfast and +then call him." + +Kennedy, feeling much refreshed, but too sore and stiff to move without +suffering, was awakened for breakfast, and he and Swanson discussed the +situation in low tones as they ate. + +It was past one o'clock before Swanson commenced to worry about the +failure of the doctor to come. After fuming and fretting for more than +half an hour he rang for the nurse and sent her in quest of Dr. +Anderson. She returned soon and reported that he had been summoned +suddenly to assist in performing an important operation, but that he +probably would return soon. Not until two o'clock had passed did +Swanson commence to become seriously disturbed at the failure of the +doctor to appear. A short nap had refreshed him somewhat, and when +Kennedy announced that it was past two o'clock he waited a few moments, +then commenced ringing the call bell by his bedside to summon the +nurse. There was no response, and growing angry and impatient, he rang +again and again. + +"If I only had a pair of pants," wailed the helpless giant, "I'd break +out." + +He climbed out of bed and searched the room. In his impatience he +bumped his wounded head, and blood flowed afresh from under the +bandages, and with a movement of his arm he smeared it over his face. +The giant Swede was working himself into a fury. Every few moments he +rang the bell, and a few moments before three o'clock the nurse, calm +and appearing as if nothing unusual was happening, came in. + +"Did you ring?" she inquired. + +Swanson started to explode, but stood looking at her in helpless fury. + +"Get me my clothes," he ordered in tones that frightened the girl, +trained as she was to the outbursts of patients. + +"Get me my clothes," he repeated. + +"It is against orders," she said hesitatingly. "You cannot go until +the doctor"---- + +"Get me my clothes," he half screamed. "If my clothes aren't here in +five minutes I'm going this way." + +The nurse, thoroughly alarmed by the fury of the big man, ran from the +room, and, within five minutes she returned with another nurse to +support her. + +"Where are my clothes?" he demanded in an awful voice. + +"It's against orders," said the older nurse firmly. "You cannot leave +without permission from the doctor in charge." + +For an instant it seemed as if Swanson would forget himself and become +violent. With an effort he controlled his anger and sank back upon the +pillows. + +"All right," he said resignedly, "let me telephone to the boss and +explain." + +"You are not going to quit, Silent?" demanded Kennedy, starting up in +bed. "I'll go myself"---- + +The quick wink that Swanson gave him stopped the catcher's angry +expostulation. + +"That's a good boy!" said the nurse pleasantly. "There isn't any use +to fret. I'll bring you the telephone." + +The telephone was brought, and, when the nurse left the room Swanson +called up the hotel at which they lived. + +"That you, Joe?" he said rapidly. "This is Silent--yes, in hospital. +Send a taxi to the corner as fast as you can get it here. I'll be +watching." + +He cut off the carriage clerk's curious questions by hanging up the +receiver. + +"What are you going to do?" whispered Kennedy from his bed. + +"I'm going out of here," said Swanson. He crept out of bed, and with +his face pressed against the window, watched the corner four floors +below until a taxicab stopped there and waited. Then, drawing a sheet +over his night gown, he opened the door cautiously. + +The receiving clerk had a glimpse of a ferocious looking ghost, garbed +in a white sheet, and with face smeared with blood, racing down the +hallway, and before her screams could bring help, Swanson had run +limpingly across the street, leaped into the taxi and was shouting +orders to the driver to get him to the ball park. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +_Hidden Foes_ + +The disappearance and dramatic reappearance of Swanson and Kennedy, who +was released from the hospital after the game, was the sensation of the +country for twelve hours; then it was paled into insignificance by a +new sensation that caused a wave of indignation and an insistent demand +for proof from all parts of the country and left the Bears dazed by the +series of events that crowded upon them. + +The second sensation was the printing of an article in one of the +foremost papers of their city in which the charge was made that one +member of the Bear team had been bribed; indeed, had been put on the +team with the sole end that he might throw games and force the +championship upon the Panthers. + +The article created a furore which caused the public to forget the +mysterious circumstances surrounding the disappearance of Swanson and +Kennedy. + +Although no name was mentioned, the facts set forth fitted only +McCarthy, the new third baseman, and rallied all the admirers of the +lithe red-headed boy to his side and set loose a storm of anger and +suspicion directed upon him by those who criticised his playing or +opposed him through prejudice. + +Manager Clancy, after an anxious evening and night trying to get at the +facts of the case of Swanson and Kennedy, and getting Kennedy out of +the hospital, was the first of the Bears to see the new attack. He +read the entire article from end to end, and going to his apartment he +telephoned for McCarthy, Swanson, Kennedy and Secretary Tabor to come +to his rooms at once. + +Manager Clancy was waiting, striding up and down the room restlessly +and as the three players entered, he unceremoniously shooed his wife +into the next room before she had a chance to defend her boys. + +"Fellows," said the manager quietly, "I sent for you because you seem +to know more what's going on than the others do. I suppose none of you +has read this article in this morning's paper. I'll read it to you." + +As he read, the players began to look one at the other and ejaculations +of surprise and anger came from them. When Clancy reached the portion +of the article telling of the player joining the Bears, McCarthy sprang +from his chair. + +"Why," he exclaimed, flushing angrily, "why, he means me." + +"It's a d----n shame," roared Swanson. "I'll wring his neck." + +"Let me finish," said Clancy, and completed the reading. At the end +the players broke into excited questions and threats and Clancy said: + +"Now, see here, boys; we're against a tough proposition. This article +is just part of it. I wanted to talk things over with you fellows. +I've sent for Technicalities, and want to find out a few things from +him. Now you fellows tell me all you know. By the way, you needn't +shy at using Williams's name. I'm not saying he's guilty, but I know +he's the one you have been watching." + +Detail by detail they described to the manager the events of the +preceding days. + +"Keep quiet about all that. The case is one we can't beat except on +the ball field. Every one of us is certain that Edwards has bribed +Williams and that he has lined up this big politician, Barney Baldwin, +and now they've dished up this story about McCarthy to try to drive him +out of the game. Are you game to stand what the crowd will do to you +to-day, Kohinoor?" + +"I'll play," replied McCarthy grimly. + +"Better stuff your ears with cotton if we're losing," advised the +manager. "This crowd will turn on you in a second and accuse you of +more than the paper did, if you make an error or two. It will be worse +if you stay out of the game. Then they'll think the story is true and +that I've laid you off for throwing games. I have a plan. I'm going +to act as if I believe McCarthy is trying to throw games." + +"Thanks," said McCarthy, gripping the manager's hand gratefully, just +as a knock sounded on the door and Technicalities Feehan entered. + +"I regret exceedingly my absence when you wanted me, Mr. Clancy," he +said. "I have just returned and have been reading this absurd article +reflecting upon the integrity of Mr. McCarthy." + +"What do you think of it?" asked Swanson. + +"Absurd. The figures prove directly the contrary. Let me read to you +some of my recent calculations"---- + +"Never mind--never mind," protested Clancy. "Save them for the paper. +What I wanted to find out is who is this fellow Barney Baldwin?" + +"Baldwin," said Feehan calmly, "is a politician, accused of much +crooked work. I do not know that he ever has been convicted"---- + +"Meantime," remarked Feehan calmly, "I shall attempt to discover the +relations existing between Mr. Edwards, the gamester, and this person +who wrote this attack. I shall have some statistics to show the +editor"---- + +"Never mind the statistics," said Clancy, cutting off Feehan before he +could bestride his hobby, "I want you to find out who was back of the +fellow who wrote that article; whether anyone bribed him to do it. I'm +beginning to think we are dealing with bigger men than Ed Edwards. + +"Now see here, fellows," he added frowning worriedly, "we're up against +the toughest proposition we ever tackled, but we can beat it. The best +way to beat them is to pretend we don't suspect a thing and let them +work out their own schemes"----"Hello, come in," he called in response +to a rap on the door. "Oh, it's you, Bannard! How are you? I'm just +having a little talk with the boys. How are things to-day?" + +He feigned an indifferent manner. + +"Pretty good, Bill. Team all right?" asked the president. "I heard +two of the boys got mixed up in a barroom scrap." + +"I was just warning them about that," said Clancy. "These are the two +(he pointed to Kennedy and Swanson). I was warning them that a lot of +tough mugs in this burg are likely to get excited over baseball these +days and ball players ought to stick close to the hotel." + +"Glad they're not much hurt," said Bannard easily, looking at the +battered athletes. "How is the pitching staff? By the way, who is +working to-day?" + +"It's Williams's turn," said Clancy steadily. "Why?" + +"Why, that's what I came to see about," replied the president frankly. +"That friend of mine--the one I spoke to you about the other day--wants +to see him pitch. I'm starting West at noon and I told him I'd ask you +as a favor. He was pretty sore because you didn't put him in the other +time I asked you." + +"All right. Always glad to oblige when possible," said Clancy grimly. + +"Why didn't you ask who his friend is?" inquired Swanson when Bannard +departed. + +"Bonehead, fool, slow thinker," said Clancy. "I ought to bench myself +for not thinking of it. I'll find out the first time I see him." + +The players laughed nervously and departed from the room. Scarcely had +McCarthy and Swanson reached their quarters when the telephone girl +called to tell McCarthy an important call had been coming in for half +an hour. + +"Very well, connect me," said McCarthy. + +He recognized Helen Baldwin's voice, and it shook with emotion, as she +made certain she was talking to him. + +"Oh, Larry," she said, "I must see you! I must--to-night, if possible! +Please come!" + +"What is the matter, Helen?" he asked anxiously. "It's impossible to +come to-night--and after the last"---- + +"I know, I know, Larry," she said rapidly. "Please, please forget all +that. I didn't understand! I didn't know! I've found out something +that showed me how bad and wicked I have been. I didn't mean to bring +harm to you"---- + +"Uncle came home," she said. "He'd been drinking. He made terrible +threats against you." + +"I'll be up to-night," said McCarthy. + +"Better look out--it's a trap," warned Swanson, who had heard McCarthy +promise to call that night. + +"There's something wrong up there," replied McCarthy. "I'm going to +Baldwin's house to-night." + +They went downstairs talking in low tones. On the parlor floor Betty +Tabor was sitting reading. She had scarcely spoken to McCarthy since +the day she had heard him in conversation with Helen Baldwin. +Impulsively she dropped her book and came toward him with her hand +outstretched. + +"Mr. McCarthy," she said rapidly, "I wanted to tell you--I do not +believe a word of these horrible things the paper says about you. It +is hateful! I told them they were false. I didn't think they'd dare +tell others"---- + +"Them?" inquired McCarthy. "Then you've heard this story before?" + +"Yes," she admitted. "I refused to listen--I knew there was not a word +of truth in the stories. I knew you were honest"---- + +"I thank you very much, Miss Tabor," he said quietly. "I shall not +need to ask who told you." + +"I only wanted you to know I believed in you," she said simply, and as +he looked into her eyes, she lowered them with a quick blush and +hastened to recover her book. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +_Fair Play_ + +Thirty thousand persons were packed into the big stands on the Bears' +Park, and ten thousand others camped in the outer field seats when the +teams ran out to play that day. + +A few loyalists applauded McCarthy as he trotted along with the other +players, but the ripple of applause died suddenly as if the friends he +had in the crowd feared to start a counterstorm of criticism and abuse. + +The great crowd was strangely quiet, although a hum of comment spread +through the stands when the Bears took the fielding practice and +Jacobson, the pitcher, practiced at third base, while McCarthy remained +near the stands idly warming up a recruit pitcher. The buzz arose to a +hum of excitement. Reporters, deserting the press box, swarmed down +under the stands and crowded to the entrance at the rear of the Bears' +bench, calling for Clancy, who went to speak with them. + +"Why isn't McCarthy in the game?" demanded the spokesman, who already +had written that McCarthy was suspended and out of the game. + +"He is in the game," replied Clancy innocently. "Why shouldn't he be?" + +For an instant the reporters stood undecided, then sprinted back to +their posts, to change what they had written and alter the line-up. + +Bill Tascott, the umpire, swaggered out to the plate, dusted the +rubber, while the megaphones announced the batteries, and, at that +instant McCarthy, jerking his glove from his belt, hurled his catcher's +mitt to the bench and trotted out to third base, as Jacobson walked +toward the bench. + +The little scattering applause that greeted him grew and grew until the +crowd applauded heartily and gave round after round of applause for the +third baseman. It was the American spirit of fair play and justice +revealing itself, and the crowd, accepting Manager Clancy's confidence +in his third baseman, rendered its verdict of not guilty in cheers. + +The Jackrabbits had figured cunningly that McCarthy would be unnerved +by the strain of the situation, and "Hooks" O'Leary, the manager, had +ordered that the attack be directed upon him. The first batter pushed +a slow, twisting bounder down the third-base line and McCarthy, racing +forward, scooped the ball with one hand and still running, snapped it +underhand to first base ten feet ahead of the runner. He knew that his +feat was mere bravado and that he had taken a reckless and useless +chance, but the crowd needed no further convincing, but broke into a +crashing testimonial of applause, and he knew he was safe so far as +their confidence in him was involved. + +The game developed into a panic, then the rout of the Rabbits and the +triumphant Bears rushed to victory by a score of 11 to 2. And, while +they were winning, the Panthers won one game by a wide margin and lost +the second after a fierce pitcher's duel, 2 to 1, leaving the Bears a +full game in the lead of the pennant race, with but five games to play, +while the Panthers played four. + +"The place to contradict baseball stories," remarked Clancy, grimly, in +the club house, as the players were dressing after the victory, "is on +the ball field. If we had lost to-day we would have been a bunch of +crooks, but as we won, we're all honest." + +He glanced quickly toward where Williams was dressing, but the pitcher +kept his eyes averted and seemed not to hear the remark. + +"And Kohinoor," the manager added, "I give it to you for nerve in +pulling off that circus stuff in the first inning. But if you do it +again it'll cost you a bunch of your salary." + +McCarthy found a note in his key box when he returned to the hotel. He +had torn it open to read when Miss Betty Tabor, who had returned from +the grounds with Mrs. Clancy, came laughing and almost dancing across +the lobby toward the group of players, leaving her portly, but no less +elated companion, to pant along behind her. + +"Oh, it was glorious, boys!" she said. "I never was so excited in my +life as when you made those four runs in the third inning. And Mother +Clancy was so wrought up she dropped three stitches in her fancy work +and had to work all the rest of the game picking them out." + +"She has a frightful case of nerves," said Swanson sarcastically. "I +believe she'd break a needle if we won the world's championship the +last inning of the deciding game." + +They laughed joyously as the girl turned to McCarthy and said frankly: + +"I am so glad for your sake, Mr. McCarthy. I was so angry I could have +turned and told some of the people behind me what I thought of them +before the game started, but when you fielded that first ball they +cheered you--and that made up for it." + +"They should have heard what Mr. Clancy had to say about it," he +laughed, and then growing serious said, "It is kind of you, Miss Tabor. +I am glad to know someone had faith in me." + +They were standing a little apart from the group, which was slowly +moving toward the elevators, chattering excitedly as school boys and +girls. The feeling of relief from the anxiety and suspicion that had +fallen upon them gave rise to exuberance. + +"Mr. Clancy is taking us for an auto ride all around the city +to-night," said Miss Tabor. "Shall I ask him to invite you to come +with us? There's an extra seat." + +"It's awfully good of you," he said in genuine regret. "I wish I +could--but I have an engagement." + +"Oh," she said, her tones chilling quickly. "I'm sorry." + +"Miss Tabor," he pleaded eagerly, "please do not think I do not want to +go"---- + +"Did I hint such a thing?" she inquired, with an air of innocent +indifference. + +He could not fence with her upon that basis and after a moment of idle +exchange of formalities she turned to join Mrs. Clancy and McCarthy +went to his room. Swanson was stretched upon the bed, reading +newspapers, and flinging each sheet at random as he finished scanning +its contents. + +"Darn the luck," said McCarthy, hurling his glove and shoes toward his +trunk. + +"Did his 'ittle tootsie wootsy treat him mean?" asked Swanson in his +most exasperating tones. + +"Aw shut up, you big dub," snapped McCarthy angrily, resorting to ball +players' repartee to cover his feelings. + +"Maybe his lovey dovey is just jealous and will forgive her 'ittle +pet," taunted the giant. "Petty mustn't mind what lovey says in her +notes." + +"Oh," said Swanson, with vast relief when he found Swanson was barking +up the wrong tree, "I forgot all about the note." + +He dragged the missive from his pocket and scanned it hastily, then +tossed it across to Swanson. + +"Date is off," he announced joyously. "Needn't watch me to-night." + +Swanson read: + +"Dear Larry: + +"Don't come to-night. Uncle will be here--with friends--and I'm +afraid. I must see you soon as possible. Will try to arrange to meet +you somewhere to-morrow. I will telephone. H." + +And while Swanson read the note McCarthy was at the telephone. + +"Miss Tabor," he was saying eagerly, "this is Mr. McCarthy. I find my +engagement for this evening is canceled. Please ask Mr. Clancy if I +may go. Please. Yes, I said please. Shall I say it again?" + +"And, Miss Tabor, if that spare seat is in the tonneau---- No, Mrs. +Clancy should sit with her husband." + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +_A Victory and a Defeat_ + +Another crowd of enormous size greeted the Bears as they raced onto the +ball field early the next afternoon to play the doubleheader that was +to complete the season's series against the Jackrabbits. + +The paper that had printed the attack upon the team had given space to +a partial retraction, and, although the players did not know it, the +reporter who had written the article had been suspended during an +investigation that was inspired because Technicalities Feehan had, +after overwhelming two editors with his statistics, convinced them that +no basis of truth existed for such charges. + +The Bears were happy and confident. With a full game the advantage and +only five more games to play, and those comparatively easy; with the +pitching staff in good condition, they considered the pennant as won. + +McCarthy and Swanson almost had forgotten to keep watch upon Williams. +They despised him, and in the club house and on the field they ignored +him completely. Several of the other players, although they knew +nothing of the plot, had come to ignore the pitcher, and he shunned +them all. He seemed nervous and laboring under a heavy strain. Two or +three times he started toward Clancy as if to speak to him, but each +time the manager, who was watching him, turned away to address another +player. Finally, Williams seemed to gather his courage, and with a +pretense of indifference he sauntered toward Clancy, who was talking +with several of the players. + +"Which game do I work, Bill?" he asked, tossing his glove down and +picking up a bat. + +"I think I'll save you for the first game of the World's Series, +Adonis," replied Clancy. "It's a shame to waste you beating these dub +clubs." + +The hidden sarcasm in the words stung. The pitcher started, then +rallied and said: + +"What have you got it in for me about? Haven't I worked my head off to +win for your team?" + +"I haven't made any kick," responded Clancy shortly. "When I have a +kick coming I'll make it good and strong." + +"I'm not joking, Bill," the pitcher persisted. "My arm is good, and a +lot of my friends are wondering why I don't work when it's my turn." + +"Tell them," said Clancy very quietly, "that I have only one third +baseman, and that I don't want him killed." + +Williams's eyes were opened. He felt beneath the bitter calmness of +the manager's voice the fact that Clancy knew--at least part of the +truth. His jaw dropped and his face went white. Clancy, with a short +laugh, started to run away. + +"Then I don't work to-day?" Alarm, pleading and a note of despair in +his tones as if he realized what the manager's decision meant to him. + +"No, not to-day," replied Clancy, watching him sharply. + +He turned away with exaggerated carelessness, and the rat-faced, +cold-eyed man in the stands, who had been watching them closely, +gritted out an oath and turned to Barney Baldwin, who was sitting +beside him: + +"He isn't going to let Williams pitch," He said. "We're done for, +Baldwin." + +The politician turned purple with rage. + +"Well, by ----, Edwards," he snarled, "we'll see about this. I'll put +this over or know why." + +The first game of the afternoon was a romp for the Bears. They scored +early, and by clean hitting and dashing play on the bases, piled up +tallies until the opponents were hopelessly defeated before the fifth +inning. The game was a stern chase from that to the finish, and the +Bears, scoring steadily, won, 9 to 2. + +Instead of being elated by the victory Clancy seemed worried. On the +bench he was fretful and uneasy. + +"Don't you fellows take any wide chances in the next game," he decreed +while the pitchers were warming up for the final battle against the +Jackrabbits. "We want this game. I'm sending Wilcox in to win it. +Who's that young bird the Rabbits are warming up? Hoskins, eh? +Busher? Well, watch him. These young fellows with nothing but a +strong arm are dangerous as the deuce at this time of the year." + +Unlike their manager, the players were confident. Their easy victory +in the first game, the fact that Wilcox, their best right-handed +pitcher, was to start the game against an unknown and untried "busher" +fresh from some small team and nervous through desire to win his first +game, made it seem as if victory should be easy. + +They blanked the Jackrabbits easily in the first inning, and, obedient +to orders, attacked the pitching of the youngster, Hoskins, with every +art known to them. They coached noisily, they waited at the plate, +they crowded close to the plate and they ran at the ball. + +"What's that bird got?" demanded Clancy as each batter returned to the +bench. "Nothin', eh? Nothing, and you swingin' your bat like you was +stirrin' apple butter? Nothin'? Say, you fellows get busy and make a +run or two." + +In spite of the orders, the abuse and criticism heaped upon them by the +anxious manager, the Bears were not able to hit the balls offered by +the tall, cool youngster picked up by the Jackrabbits from some obscure +club. He had steadied from his early symptoms of stage fright and was +pitching beautifully. His curve ball angled across the plate, his +speed jumped high across the shoulders of the batters. The fifth +inning came with the score nothing to nothing. + +The players no longer were confident. The batters no longer came back +to the bench with reports that the pitcher "had nothing," but they grew +serious and anxious and silent. They tried bunting, but the +Jackrabbits were prepared and checked the assault. They changed, and +instead of waiting they hit the first ball pitched. They realized now +that they were engaged in a contest with a pitcher of merit, for they +knew the difference between hitting unluckily and hitting good pitching. + +Wilcox, a quiet, studious pitcher, was among the first to realize that +the youngster was pitching well. + +"Get a run for me, fellows," he begged. "This kid has a world of stuff +on the ball. Just meet that fast one--poke it, and it may go over +safe. Get a run for me and we'll trim them." + +The veteran was pitching slowly, cautiously. Two or three times the +Jackrabbits threatened to score, but each time Wilcox put another twist +on the ball and stopped them. Inning after inning he pleaded with his +fellows to make a run, and Clancy stormed and grew sarcastic with each +failure. + +"Get him this time, fellows; finish it up," begged Clancy when the +Jackrabbits had been blanked. Norton was the first batter. He chopped +his bat with a short stroke and sent a safe hit flying to right. A +sacrifice pushed him along to second base and the crowd commenced to +cheer as Pardridge came to bat. The big fellow drove his bat crashing +against the first ball. It went on a line almost straight toward +second base. Norton was tearing for the plate when O'Neill, the +Jackrabbit second baseman, running across, leaped and stretched out one +hand. The ball stuck in his extended glove, he came down squarely on +second base and the triumphant scream of the crowd ended in a gasp of +disappointment at the realization that a double play had balked the +Bears' attack and ended the inning. + +The Jackrabbits, aroused by their narrow escape, attacked with new +vigor. A fumble gave them the opening. Despite the most determined +efforts of Wilcox they forced a run across the plate and the Bears were +thrown back under a handicap. + +McCarthy was the first batter. He crowded close to the plate, +determined to force the young pitcher to earn his victory. He refused +to hit until two strikes and three balls had been called, and then, +shortening his grip upon his bat, he hit the straight, fast ball +sharply to center for a base. Instead of sacrificing, Swanson received +orders to hit and run and, although he was thrown out at first base, +McCarthy reached second, and Babbitt, the first baseman, came to bat. +Hoskins appeared nervous. The strain was telling upon the youngster, +and Babbitt hit the first ball. From the sound of the bat hitting the +ball, McCarthy knew the hit was not on the ground, and as he started +homeward a glance showed him that Merode, the speedy little center +fielder, was running back into the deep field with his eye on the ball. +It was a fly-out unless Merode muffed, and McCarthy, knowing that such +a muff happens only four or five times a season, returned and perched +upon second base, ready to sprint for third the instant the ball struck +the fielder's hands. The thought flashed through his brain that the +Blues had released Merode because of a weak arm and a habit of lobbing +the ball back to the infielders instead of throwing it back with all +his power. The ball fell into the upstretched hands of the outfielder. +McCarthy leaped and raced for third base. He knew that Merode would +not throw there because of his weak arm and the length of the throw, so +he swung a little outside the base path, slowed up as he turned third, +and glanced toward the field. The ball was coming in. Merode had +thrown it slowly and carelessly toward the shortstop. McCarthy leaped +forward toward the plate. The shortstop, running out to meet the slow +throw, heard the cry of alarm from the fielders and the roar of +excitement from the crowd. He knew what was happening. He grabbed the +ball, whirled and threw like a shot to the plate. McCarthy was +two-thirds of the way home; but the ball, striking the ground, bounded +into the hands of the catcher six feet ahead of him. Like a flash +McCarthy hurled his body inside the line, with one foot outstretched to +touch the goal. He had out-guessed the catcher. His foot, stretched +out, felt the sharp jar of some object, then struck the plate, and, +rolling over and over, he arose covered with dust. + +The crowd was roaring. Nine out of ten thought McCarthy had counted +with the tying run, but Bill Tascott, crouching over the plate, jerked +his thumb over his shoulder, signaling that the runner was out and the +Bears beaten. + +Like flood waters breaking a dam, the crowd surged from the stands, +shouting, screaming, threatening. A thousand men, mad with +disappointment, swarmed around the umpire, pushing, shoving, shaking +fists and screaming. McCarthy pushed his way hurriedly into the mob, +which was growing more and more threatening. + +"Let him alone. He was right," he cried loudly. "The ball touched my +foot as I slid in." + +Those who heard him stopped, and in an instant the danger was over. +The crowd, subsiding suddenly, began to melt away. Tascott grinned as +he turned to McCarthy. + +"That was tough luck, Kohinoor," he said. "I was pulling for you to +beat the ball, and you had it beat, but your leg kicked up and hit the +ball as you slid. I'd have given a month's salary to call you safe." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +_Kidnapped_ + +"Train leaves at 11.30, Kohinoor," said Swanson as McCarthy came up to +their rooms after dinner that evening. "Let's play billiards until it +goes." + +"Can't," replied McCarthy shortly. "I've got to make that call +to-night. There's something wrong up there at Baldwin's, Silent. The +girl writes to-day that Baldwin will not be home this evening and that +she must see me to give me important news." + +"Sure you can trust her?" asked the big shortstop. "Don't take any +chances." + +"There's no danger in going to one of the finest homes on the drive to +call on a young woman," laughed McCarthy. + +"I'll get away as soon as possible and tackle you for fifty points, +three cushions, before we start for the train," promised McCarthy. +"You hang around." + +McCarthy had puzzled for two days over the odd conduct of Helen +Baldwin, and her brief note, appointing that evening for the call, had +failed to bring any solution of the riddle. He knew now that the girl +with whom he had imagined himself in love was selfish and shallow, but +he could not believe her criminal, nor did he for an instant think that +she was a part of the conspiracy to rob the Bears of their +championship. That he was in any danger he did not consider possible. +He went uptown determined to hasten the interview as much as possible +and arrived at the Baldwin mansion shortly after eight o'clock. + +Presently Helen Baldwin came. She was wearing a dark street gown and +her face was pale, dark rings under her eyes showing that she had been +suffering. + +"Larry," she said quietly, "you'll think me hateful and wicked. I have +had a terrible time these last two days, and I have been thinking. + +"I wanted to tell you I was a foolish, vain girl. I didn't love you; I +was in love with the thought of being mistress to James Lawrence's +fortune. I was conceited and silly and never thought of any one but +myself; but I did like you, Larry--I do. You will believe that, will +you not?" + +"Yes," he said simply. + +"I thought baseball was just a silly game," she went on, as if each +word cost her a pang. "I couldn't understand why you gave up so much; +why you insisted upon staying with the team. I didn't know that here +in the East it is a great business and that hundreds of thousands of +people take it so seriously. Uncle Barney asked me to get you to quit, +and I told him you would. My vanity was hurt when you refused." + +"You found out what it means for me to quit?" he asked. + +"Yes. Uncle Barney came home in a terrible rage. He had been drinking +and when he saw me he swore about you. He swore he'd fix you." + +Her voice sank to a frightened whisper. + +"He was only bluffing--I beg pardon; only talking," he said, striving +to soothe her. + +"I didn't know until then that I really cared, Larry," she went on. +"He frightened me. I asked him questions, and he told me what he and +some others have been doing to keep your club from winning." + +"What did he tell you?" he asked quickly. + +"He said they had one of your pitchers, I think he said, fixed, and +that he had paid some other players to hurt you and to hurt Mr. Wilcox, +I think he said. He wanted me to get you to come to meet me somewhere, +and they'd kidnap you and someone else--Mr. Swanson, I believe it was." + +"He's a kindly fellow," commented McCarthy coldly, an angry light +gleaming in his blue eyes. "Did he say where this was to take place?" + +"No. He tried to get me to write you to meet me at some place he +named. He said I needn't go there, just get you to come. I told him I +would. When he went to sleep I telephoned you because I was so +frightened. To-day we had a terrible quarrel. I refused to write to +you to meet me at the place he named." + +Her terror was so evident that her words were not necessary to add +conviction. + +McCarthy laughed a short, rasping laugh. + +"It's a good joke on him," he explained. "If he and his thugs are +hunting for me all over the city and I here in his own home, safe; the +last place he would look for me." + +"You mustn't wait," she urged anxiously. "You mustn't wait here, +Larry. He is drinking and I do not know what he might do if he came +home and found you here. You must go now." + +"I'll run back to the hotel and pick up my bodyguard, Swanson," he said +steadily, and with an attempt at indifference of manner, "I think I'll +be safe." + +"You'll kiss me goodbye, Larry," she pleaded. "She wouldn't care--if +she knew." + +"She?" he asked. "What do you mean?" + +He was astonished and curious to learn how the girl knew anything of +his growing regard for Betty Tabor. + +"I knew, I knew," she repeated. "I knew it the first time we met--I +knew there was another girl"---- + +"I'm certain I did not hint at such a thing," he replied with an +attempt at dignified bearing. "I have not even told her." + +"Good-bye," she said. "I hope you're happy, Larry, and please don't +think I meant to do wrong." + +She clung to him weeping until he put away her hands and went out. The +girl threw herself face downward upon the lounge and sobbed, this time +from a sense of loneliness and perhaps of loss. + +McCarthy descended the stairs and walked rapidly through the darkened +lawn to the street. In spite of his pretense of believing there was no +danger he found himself nervous. He walked two blocks toward the +street car line, when a taxicab swerved toward the sidewalk. + +"Taxi, sir, taxi?" asked the driver. "Take you downtown, sir?" + +McCarthy hesitated an instant. If he hurried back to the hotel and +found Swanson he would rid himself of the nervous dread of something +intangible which he could not explain. + +"How much downtown?" he asked, stopping near the taxicab, which had +come to a full stop. + +"Take you down for half rates, sir; I'm going that way." + +"Very well," said McCarthy. + +He walked to the side of the car, and turned the handle to step within. +The instant he entered the car he felt himself seized and jerked +downward while a pair of hands gripped at his throat. A vicious blow +struck him on the back of the neck. Twisting, fighting, squirming, he +struggled to free himself from the hands that were throttling him. His +knees found a grip upon the floor of the car, and bracing himself, he +jerked loose from one of the men, and struck wildly at the shape he saw +silhouetted against the opposite window. His fist met flesh with a +crunching sound. + +"I'll kill you for that," gritted someone, striking him. In the half +light of the interior McCarthy saw an object descending. He threw up +an arm to protect his head, and with a crunching blow a heavy blackjack +fell upon his arm. He seized the weapon and jerked it from the hand +that had held it, but it fell to the floor of the cab. + +McCarthy had struggled to his feet, bowing as his head struck the roof. +One man, seated, kicked at him and hurt him cruelly. He was standing, +with the car door swinging wide, while the car lurched and raced along +a rough street. + +Curses, groans, cries of pain and anger came from the interior as the +player, battling against two unknown opponents, fought on. All three +of the participants in the battle at forty miles an hour, were hampered +by the smallness of the interior. + +McCarthy strove to tear himself from the arms and legs that struck and +kicked him, to get his head out of the window to raise the alarm. + +Again and again he cried. Then suddenly the car lurched around a +corner at a mad pace, tipping onto two wheels and skidding sickeningly. +At that instant one of his assailants drove his feet against his body, +and, as the car lurched wildly, McCarthy broke loose, grasped +frantically for something to save himself, plunged from the machine, +struck upon the asphalt of the side street into which the car had +whirled, slid along it to the gutter and lay a huddled heap. + +The car stopped quickly and whirled back to where he lay. The men +leaped out, one cursing and frothing, the other urging silence and +haste. Between them they lifted the half-conscious player and shoved +him into the bottom of the car. + +[Illustration: THE MEN LEAPED OUT] + +"Hurry up, Fred," urged the quiet man to the driver. "These fellows +down at the corner are coming. Jump in, Jack." + +They leaped back into the taxi, and the man called Jack said viciously: + +"There--you, that'll teach you"--He kicked the prostrate player. + +"Cut that out," ordered the quiet man, quickly. "You needn't murder +him; he's fixed." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +_Baiting a Trap_ + +Events that preceded and led up to the desperate encounter between +McCarthy and the two strangers in the dark interior of a racing taxicab +seemed to have been dictated by fate. At the end of the doubleheader +between the Jackrabbits and Bears, Easy Ed Edwards had hurriedly laid +new plans to save himself. The gambler had watched both contests, +believing all the time that the result of the games ended his final +hope of winning the bets, and, facing ruin, he had welcomed his new +lease upon hope with the determination of resorting to desperate +measures to achieve his end. He realized that unless he acted at once +all his plotting had failed. After the defeat of the Bears in the +second game he left the grounds, hastened downtown in a taxi and at +once telephoned to both Adonis Williams and Barney Baldwin to meet him +at his rooms. Baldwin responded at once to the gambler's summons and +entered the rooms blustering. + +"You've a frightful nerve, Edwards," snarled the angry politician. +"Understand, I do not take orders from cheap gamblers." + +"You needn't try storming at me," said the gambler quietly. "I'm onto +you. You may ring over such a bluff as that in politics, but not with +me. You don't seem to understand." + +"I don't think you can deliver any votes anyhow," said Baldwin +sullenly. "I've nothing but your word for it." + +"That's all the security I ever needed," said the gambler +superciliously. "But never mind about the votes--you're going to help +me." + +"I've done all I can"---- + +"No, you haven't. I want you to go to-morrow morning and join the +Bears and I want you to see to it that Williams pitches one of those +games against the Blues. He'll lose it this time. I've thrown a scare +into him and he'll do it, even if he gives himself away." + +"I tell you I can't," snarled Baldwin. "President Bannard is the only +one who knows I own the club"---- + +"Take your stock with you. That proves you own it." + +"And Bannard is out of town. Clancy wouldn't pay any attention to +me"---- + +"You own this club," said Edwards. "You can do what you please with +it, and you're going to do it." + +"You talk as if you owned me!" Baldwin was purple with anger. + +"I do," said the gambler coldly. "It would look good in print to have +the people know that Barney Baldwin, the crooked politician, owns both +the Bears and the Panthers, wouldn't it?" + +"You have no proof"---- + +"Haven't I? I saved both your notes. You're a fool, Baldwin. You +write letters. I have two mentioning McCarthy and Williams. I +wouldn't have any trouble getting them printed. Any sporting editor in +the city would give a thousand dollars for such proof." + +"Look here, Ed," expostulated Baldwin, "there isn't any use for us to +quarrel. We're both in this thing"---- + +"Now you're talking sense," said the gambler. "We haven't any time to +lose. The club leaves town at 11.30 to-night." + +"What do you want me to do?" gasped Baldwin helplessly. + +"You're pretty strong with Captain Raferty, of the North Nineteenth +Street police, aren't you?" + +"Yes--I've done him some favors." + +"Well, I want you to fix it with him that when I bring a prisoner in +to-night some time he's to be locked downstairs and kept until you +telephone to let him loose." + +"What are you going to do?" asked Baldwin, alarmed. + +"I'm going to do something myself," replied the gambler sharply. "I've +tried a lot of you fellows and you've all fallen down. Now I'm going +to get this McCarthy and put him out of the way." + +"You're taking an awful risk"---- + +"It's a sure thing the other way, and I'm desperate," the gambler cut +him short. "When you get that fixed you catch the first train and +follow the team. You get Clancy in the morning and force him to let +Williams pitch one of the games down there. Wilcox is worked out now, +and if we can make sure Williams will pitch one game, that will force +Clancy to pitch Wilcox again, and he'll be beaten sure. With McCarthy +out of the game, as he will be, the Bears haven't a chance. They're +half a game ahead, but if they lose two out of three and the Panthers +win one out of their remaining two games, the Panthers beat them out on +percentage, and the Panthers ought to win both games." + +"You haven't cornered McCarthy yet?" asked the politician. + +"No," admitted Edwards. "He left the hotel nearly two hours ago and +said he'd be back before ten o'clock. I have two men watching him, and +they're to let me know where he is and what he is doing. I ought to +have heard from them before now." + +The telephone rang at that instant. + +"This is it now," said Edwards in low tones. "Hello!" he said, taking +up the receiver. "Yes--you, Jack? All right. You have? Where? All +right. I'll join you as fast as I can get there. Don't let him reach +the hotel if I'm late--you understand?" + +"What do you think of that?" he asked, turning to Baldwin. "Of all the +gall--where do you think that fellow McCarthy was?" + +"I don't know." + +"No wonder Jack had such a hard time locating him. He was at your +house." + +"I have a taxi waiting downstairs," said Edwards quickly. "Come on, +I'll drop you at the police station. We'll bring in the prisoner +before you've been there very long." + +"How are you going to get him?" inquired Baldwin, as the taxi dodged in +and out among traffic. + +"I've got Big Jack, the fighter, trailing McCarthy," said the gambler, +laughing mirthlessly. "He's sore on ball players since that scrap with +Swanson and Kennedy the other night, and he'll welcome a chance to get +his hands on one." + +"He won't hurt him, will he?" asked Baldwin nervously. + +"No, he won't hurt him," replied the gambler with scornful sarcasm. +"Not a bit. He'll probably take him in his lap and sing him to sleep." + +"This is dangerous business," objected Baldwin nervously. "We might +all get into trouble." + +"We're all in trouble now," snapped Edwards. "You leave the trouble +end of it to me." + +The taxi slackened its pace as it approached the police station and +Baldwin climbed out under the lights that marked it as the home of the +paid guardians of the people's rights and liberties. + +"Don't fall down this time," warned the gambler. "If this don't go +through, the newspapers will have some fine information to print in the +next few days." + +"I'll fix it, Ed, I'll frame it all right," replied Baldwin nervously. + +The mention of his name and the imposing manner he had assumed won for +him immediate entrance to the captain's private room, and after ten +minutes of earnest conversation, Baldwin emerged, the gray-haired +official with the gilt stars and chevrons escorting him and shaking +hands with him at the street door. + +"Don't forget, Raferty," said Baldwin importantly. "I want him kept +close until I can get the proof we need. Don't let any lawyers or +reporters get near him and keep your cops from gossiping. You won't +lose anything by it, Raferty. Drop down and see me sometime. I'd like +to talk the political situation over with you. You understand?" + +Meantime the taxicab, with Edwards inside, had raced across the upper +portion of the city to the place where Big Jack was pacing the shadowy +part of the sidewalk half a block from Baldwin's home. + +"He hasn't come out yet," Jack reported, stepping into the light as the +taxi slowed down and crept along near the gutter. + +"Jump in," said Edwards. "Run over across the street, and step in the +shadow there," he ordered the chauffeur. + +"There he comes now, out the gate. Follow him." + +Five minutes later McCarthy stepped into the trap laid by the gambler +and, ten minutes after he lurched out of the machine, he was carried +half unconscious, into the basement door of the police station and +deposited roughly upon the bench in the "cozy corner." + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +_McCarthy Disappears_ + +Silent Swanson was jabbing billiard balls around the table as if +venting his irritability upon the innocent spheres of ivory. + +"Why so cruel to the relics of departed generations of ball players?" +inquired Kennedy, who was cuddled up in cushioned settee watching. + +"Waiting for Kohinoor." + +"Where has he gone?" inquired Kennedy carelessly. + +"Skirting again," explained Swanson. "He ought to be back before +long," added Swanson, jabbing the balls harder and stopping to look at +his watch. "It's five past ten now, and he said he'd cut the call +short." + +"Think any sane guy would quit a pretty girl to spend an evening with +you?" inquired Kennedy insultingly, having decided to wile away the +time by ragging his big teammate. + +"I've a hunch something is wrong with Kohinoor," said Swanson. "He +told me he'd break away early and shoot me some billiards before train +time. He didn't say just when, but I expected him back by ten." + +"Why don't you sue him for divorce if he neglects you?" suggested +Kennedy, again seeking to start an argument. + +Swanson consulted his watch with gloomy foreboding and declined to +engage in repartee. + +"Better come drag along down to the train," suggested Kennedy. "I'll +buy the gas wagon to haul us. Your little playmate is safe enough." + +"I'll hang around here," replied Swanson without spirit. + +"All right," Kennedy remarked, rising and stretching himself. "I'm +going to dig along and get into the hay before that old rattler starts. +I want some sleep. Most of the fellows already have gone." + +Swanson resumed his gloomy pastime of making fancy shots on the +billiard table. When he looked at his watch again it marked ten-thirty. + +He strolled upstairs to the lobby, scanned the writing room and smoking +rooms for a sign of McCarthy and then, with a sudden anxiety, he +hurried to the telephone and called the Baldwin residence number. + +"Is this Miss Baldwin speaking?" he inquired, using his off-the-field +manner. + +"Is my friend, Mr. McCarthy, there?" he inquired when she responded in +the affirmative. "I was to meet him, and he has not appeared." + +"Hasn't he arrived at the hotel?" he girl inquired in quick alarm. "He +left here more than three-quarters of an hour ago. Has something +happened to him?" + +"I don't know, miss," said Swanson. "I got anxious waiting for him---- +You're sure he left your house that long ago?" + +"About that--I'm not certain," she said. "He was only here a short +time." + +"I expect he had to wait for a car, or else went straight to the +station without stopping here," said Swanson, striving to quiet the +evident alarm of the girl, although his own misgivings were growing. +"He left the house alone, did he?" + +"Who are you? Are you a friend of his?" asked the girl anxiously. + +"Yes, I'm Swanson, his chum," replied the shortstop. "You needn't +worry, miss, he'll be all right. I'm sorry I worried you about it." + +He hung up the receiver and made a hasty tour of the hotel, descended +to the billiard room, peeped into the bar and hurried through the +writing and lounging rooms. + +"Five after eleven," he muttered to himself, as he turned from the +desk. "Kohinoor has found he was late and stayed on the car to the +station. I'll grab a taxi and hurry down." + +"If he comes in tell him I've gone," he called to the clerk as he +hurried out. + +A quarter of an hour later Swanson hurried into the great train shed +where the train was waiting to bear the Bears on their final trip of +the season. Most of the athletes already had sought their berths to +attempt to get to sleep before the train started, as the ride was a +short one and the hours of sleep too few. + +"Kohinoor down yet?" asked Swanson in a low tone, as he came near the +trainer. + +"Haven't seen him," replied the trainer. "I put his baggage in his +berth. There's a card game in the smoking room, maybe he's in there." + +"I'll watch for him at the gate," said Swanson, "he may turn up yet." + +Worried and alarmed, Swanson swung back along the train and took his +stand where he could watch the entrances to the station and the great +clock at the same time. Three minutes remained before time for the +train to start. There was a flurry in the crowd at the gates, and a +man broke through to race for the train. Swanson's heart leaped. He +started to meet the newcomer, then, with a sickening feeling, he saw +that it was not McCarthy, but Williams. + +"Seen Kohinoor?" inquired Swanson, as Williams hurried past. + +"Not since dinner. Isn't he here?" inquired Williams, stopping and +dropping his grip. + +"Haven't seen him," replied Swanson, watching Williams closely for +symptoms of guilt, and finding none. + +"I expected it," said Williams nastily. "Maybe that story about him +trying to throw games is straight after all." + +"That's what a lot of them will say if he don't show up to-morrow," +reflected Swanson. + +The warning cry of all aboard sounded. The big shortstop hesitated an +instant, and gave a despairing glance toward the gates, just being +closed. + +"It won't do for both of us to miss this game," he muttered as he +turned and ran along the platform. The porter was just closing the +vestibule doors and the train was gathering speed as the big shortstop +swung aboard, went into the now deserted smoking room and sank down, +staring blankly out of the window at the rushing lights. + +Before the train reached the city of the Blues the news that McCarthy +was missing had spread through the car of the Bears. The consternation +that followed the rumor grew as the berths were made up and it became a +certainty that the third baseman was not with the team. Swanson had +informed Manager Clancy early in the morning of the events of the +preceding evening so far as he knew them. They had not told anyone, +but every member of the team knew, and they gathered in little groups. +Williams was circulating around the car, talking with different players. + +"Look at him," said Swanson to Clancy. "He hates McCarthy and he was +the one who told them first that Kohinoor was not with us. He guessed +it when I asked him last night if he had seen him." + +"It's queer," the voice of Pardridge came from the berth behind them. +"It's a funny thing that all this sort of trouble in the team started +when that red-headed tramp joined us." + +"They'll all be talking that way," said Swanson gloomily. "They wait +for a chance to knock." + +"Something may have happened to delay him," said the manager in tones +that showed he did not believe his own hopeful words. "Maybe he went +to the wrong station, or had an accident. Have you looked at the +papers?" + +"Yes. Nothing in them about any accident. I'm still hoping he'll be +in at noon, catching that early morning train." + +"I hope for a telegram from him anyway, when we get to the hotel," +replied the manager. + +But McCarthy did not show up, nor was there any telegram from him +awaiting when the team reached their hotel. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +_Baldwin Shows His Hand_ + +"There's a swarm of reporters down in the lobby all excited over +McCarthy," announced Swanson as, in obedience to orders, he, with +Kennedy, Norton and Technicalities Feehan, gathered in Clancy's room +soon after breakfast. + +"Let them wait," replied Clancy. "They've been calling up here every +five minutes." + +Briefly each of the players recounted the little they had seen or heard +during the preceding evening, Swanson giving his account of his +engagement with McCarthy, his telephone conversation with Miss Baldwin, +of her evident sincerity when she informed him as to McCarthy's +departure from the house and of his vain wait. + +"But what could have happened?" asked Kennedy. "You're sure he got out +of the house? It's only two blocks to the street car line and three to +the elevated on lighted streets, you say. If he was hit by an +automobile or held up by robbers it would have been in the newspapers." + +"Manager Clancy," said Feehan softly from his perch upon a trunk, which +gave him the aspect of a huge owl, "I have been giving consideration to +a plan. Unless Mr. McCarthy should arrive on the 11.45 train I shall +catch the noonday express for home, arriving there shortly after five, +to put my plan into effect." + +"But you cannot neglect your work, Feehan," protested the manager. +"It's fine of you to offer it, but you've got yourself to think of." + +"I have a premonition," responded the reporter solemnly, "or what Mr. +Swanson so graphically expresses as a 'hunch,' that the story at the +other end is bigger than the story of the contest. Besides, Mr. +Hardner has kindly consented to report the game of to-day for my paper +as well as his own." + +"What's your theory, Technicalities?" asked Clancy gratefully. + +"Only one of two things are probable," explained Feehan. "Either +McCarthy left of his own accord or because of threats made to him or +else he has been kidnapped by certain--ah--interests, let us say, +desirous of preventing the Bears from winning the championship emblem." + +"Ah, Kohinoor wouldn't quit, and they couldn't scare him," growled +Swanson. + +"Precisely, Mr. Swanson. The statistics prove beyond doubt that he is +not concerned in the losing of games, putting aside the fact that the +young man undoubtedly is honest and sincere. That leaves us only one +premise, the other having been found untenable. Mr. McCarthy has been +kidnapped." + +"I can't figure how they could take him in a public street or from a +street car," interposed Clancy. + +"I have calculated that," said the reporter. "Either he is in the +Baldwin home and Miss Baldwin ah--er--falsified or he was attacked +between her uncle's home and the street car line two and one-half +blocks distant." + +"How do you propose finding him?" asked Clancy. + +"I shall arrive at 5.11," replied the peculiar little man of news +quietly. "Before six o'clock I shall have one of the best detective +agencies in the world scouring the city." + +The train came steaming into the station on time and the shortstop and +the reporter crowded closer to the gates, watching the stream of +hurrying passengers rushing through the narrow gates and spreading, +fan-like, across the great floor. Suddenly Swanson's elbow jarred +against the reporter's body, causing the frail statistician to wince. + +"Look there!" said Swanson in excited whispers. + +"Where--who?" inquired Feehan, striving to focus his heavy glasses upon +the position indicated by his companion. + +"It's Baldwin--the big fellow with the cane and the small satchel. See +him?" + +"I see a big man. I never saw Baldwin," responded the reporter. "Now, +what can he be doing over here?" + +"I'm going to find out," replied Swanson, his jaw setting pugnaciously. +"McCarthy isn't on that train or he'd have been out among the first, +and they're almost all out now. Good luck to you, Feehan, and wire me +the minute you locate Kohinoor." + +"I will," promised the reporter. "What you've got to do is to win that +game to-day without him. I'll have him here to-morrow if he hasn't +broken a leg." + +Swanson leaped into the taxi immediately behind that into which he had +seen Baldwin climb, and ordered the driver to follow the other vehicle. +His surprise hardly could have been greater than when the short pursuit +of Baldwin ended at the hotel from which he had come, unless it was +that which came over him when, upon following the big man to the desk, +he heard Baldwin order the clerk to send his card to Manager Clancy. + +Swanson's surprise, however, was little more than that experienced by +Manager Clancy when the bell boy delivered Baldwin's card. + +"Send him right up," he said, and as the boy turned he said to himself: +"Now, what the dickens does that fellow want with me?" + +Baldwin entered the room pompously, and walked toward the Bears' +manager with his pudgy hand extended. + +"Ah, Clancy," he said patronizingly. "I'm Mr. Baldwin. I've seen you +often on the field, but never had the occasion to meet you before." + +"Yes," replied Clancy, ignoring the hand, "I've heard of you often, +Baldwin, in various connections. You wanted to see me?" + +"Yes; matter of business," said the big man. "Fact is, Clancy, I ran +over from home purposely to have a little confidential talk with you." + +"Depends upon what it is whether it's confidential or not," said +Clancy; "I can't pledge myself not to tell the newspaper boys, +especially if you've come to give me a third baseman." + +"Hasn't McCarthy shown up?" inquired the politician quickly. + +"No," responded Clancy coldly. "Didn't happen to see him over in town, +did you?" + +"No, no. Fact is, Clancy, I never have paid much attention to my ball +players." + +"Your ball players?" It was Clancy's turn to be astonished. + +"Yes, yes; Clancy, I supposed you knew. I've owned the controlling +interest in the Bears for a number of years. That's what I came to see +you about." + +"You own the Bears?" Clancy's tone was between surprise and disbelief. + +"Certainly, certainly. Now, I haven't taken any active interest in +them for several reasons until lately. Truth is things aren't going to +suit me, and I have decided to take a hand myself." + +"You have?" asked Clancy. "Well, you may own this club, but I'm d----d +if you can run it while I'm manager." + +"I'm not trying to run it, Clancy," replied the big man, unruffled. +"Don't fly off that way. I just decided to use the owner's prerogative +of consulting the manager." + +"All right, Mr. Baldwin," replied Clancy, puzzled and mollified. "I +did not know--you see it's a new idea--I didn't even know you owned +stock." + +Clancy was sparring for time in which to collect his thoughts, which +were sadly scattered by the unexpected developments. + +"Thought you might not be convinced," said Baldwin easily, "so I +brought the documents along. Look over them and be convinced I own the +club. They cost me a pretty neat pile, but I'm satisfied. You've made +'em pay me." + +He tossed over the book of stock certificates, and Clancy, who owned a +few shares of stock himself, realized their genuineness as he looked +through them while planning his next move. + +"I congratulate you," he said, handing back the forms. "I own a couple +myself, so I know what they pay. Well, what have you to suggest, Mr. +Baldwin? We're having a hard time winning this race, and if I seemed +curt, blame it on worries. I have plenty." + +"Naturally we all want to win," said Baldwin pompously. "Now, as to +behavior, I'm told Swanson and Kennedy aren't behaving themselves." + +"They're all right," argued Clancy, feeling from Baldwin's tone that he +had not yet reached the point. + +"I heard they had a fight in a barroom." Baldwin spoke with an effort +of sternness. "That won't do, Clancy. And now McCarthy is missing. +Then there's another thing." + +Baldwin hesitated as if thinking how best to state his case, and Clancy +eyed him closely, feeling that the real object of the interview was +coming, "I'm not at all pleased with the way you are working your +pitchers." + +"A fellow makes blunders sometimes," replied Clancy, with a meekness +astounding in him. + +"That's what I wanted to talk to you about," went on Baldwin blandly. +"Who do you propose pitching to-day and to-morrow?" + +In a flash Clancy understood. It was Baldwin who had been urging +Bannard to have Williams pitch. He saw through Baldwin's motives and +planned quickly how to meet them. + +"Well," he said, frowning as if worried, "it's a tough game. You see, +the fans never forgive a fellow if he guesses wrong at this time in a +race. I planned to use Williams in one game and Morgan the other. You +see the Blues hit right-handers harder than they do left-handers." + +"So I understand," a gleam of cunning and triumph came into the eyes of +the politician. "Morgan and Williams ought to beat them, I think." + +"Yes, they ought--I'm a little afraid of Morgan." Clancy was drawing +the owner out. "He hasn't shown speed in his last two games." + +"Then Williams is in fine form?" The triumph and satisfaction in the +big man's voice were unmistakable. + +"He's good," replied Clancy. "He ought to best them sure." + +"Will you pitch him to-day or to-morrow?" asked Baldwin, completely +thrown off his guard. "I'm anxious to make certain he will pitch." + +"Of course he'll pitch, Mr. Baldwin," replied the manager. "I've got +to pitch him and he's my best man." + +"All right, Clancy, all right," said the owner genially. "I'm glad I +had this conference with you. I was afraid you were angry with +Williams or something and would not let him work. Glad to see you have +good judgment." + +He went out and as the door closed he removed his hat, and, wiping his +brow, smiled a smile of great relief over the fact that his purpose had +been accomplished without trouble. Had he been able to see through the +door he would have seen Clancy, the veins of his neck standing out +purple, his face convulsed with rage, standing, shaking his fist toward +the door and muttering: + +"Yes, I'll pitch Williams. I'll pitch Williams, and by ---- he'll win." + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + +_Searching_ + +Betty Tabor had remained at the hotel in the home town with Mrs. Clancy +when the Bears went to play their two-game series with the Blues. + +Mrs. Clancy had refused positively to engage in any baseball +conversation or to debate with Miss Tabor the chances of the Bears +winning the championship. + +"Heavens knows it's hard enough to be married to a baseball man," she +said as she bit a thread, "him makin' base hits in his sleep and +worrying the little hair he has left off his head, without havin' a +girl that ought to be thinkin' of dresses and hats wantin' to din +baseball into my ears all day. My dear, never marry a ball player." + +"You appear to be pretty well satisfied with yours, Mother Clancy," +teased the girl. "Maybe I'll find one as fine some day"---- + +"I'm thinkin' you've found yours now," replied Mrs. Clancy, without +glancing up from her work. "A nice bye, too, although they do say the +red-headed ones are hot tempered." + +"Why, Mother Clancy! How dare you!" the girl expostulated, reddening. + +"If you're thinkin' to deceive Ellen Clancy, you're sore mistaken," +replied the manager's wife. "My Willie says I can tell when young +people are in love before they know it themselves, an' ye and the +red-headed McCarthy boy has all the symptoms. 'Tis a nice boy he is, +too, and you'll be doin' well." + +"But after ye've been married as long as we have ye'll not be wantin' +to see many ball games. Many's the time I've begged Willie to quit it +and get a little house out in the country, with a bit of green grass +and maybe a flower bed and a little garden and a porch, and maybe a +chicken yard, and let me end my days in peace, out of the sound of +crowds and yellin' maniacs. Eighteen year I've ridden with him on cars +smellin' of arnica, and with the train dust an' cinders in me eyes an' +hair, and I long for peace. Only one season I've missed--'twas when +little Mar-rtin was born"---- + +She snuffled a little and dropped her work to wipe her eyes hastily. +It was fifteen years since their only baby had come and gone in a short +year, to leave them closer to each other, but each with a heart pain +that never ceased. + +A bell boy interrupted her lecture to bring in a card, and Mrs. Clancy, +glancing at it, passed it over to Miss Tabor. + +"'Tis for you, Betty girl," she said. "And, Mother of Mary, she'll see +us this way"---- + +Betty Tabor sat staring at the card, at first puzzled, then in a panic +of mingled emotions. + +"Tell her to come up," she said. "I'll see her here. Mother Clancy, +don't you dare hide." + +The girl hastily arranged her hair and straightened the room, and a few +minutes later, when the boy ushered the visitor into the apartments, +she was self-possessed and cool. She arose as the door opened, and +started forward to meet her guest, but stopped staring as the color +faded from her face and then slowly heightened. + +"You are Miss Tabor?" inquired the visitor, her voice trembling from +excitement and nervousness. + +"Yes. You are Miss Helen Baldwin; you desired to see me?" + +The sight of the girl she had seen talking with Kohinoor McCarthy in +the hotel parlor, shortly after he joined the club, had shaken her +composure. + +"Oh, Miss Tabor," Helen Baldwin cried, sinking into a chair and giving +way to her emotions. "I had to come--I had nowhere else to go--and +they told me over the telephone only you and Mrs. Clancy were here and +all the men of the team away." + +"If it is baseball business," replied Miss Tabor, "perhaps you'd better +see Mrs. Clancy. I'll call her"---- + +"No! no! no!" expostulated the girl, drying her eyes. "It is you I +must see. Have you heard anything from Mr. McCarthy?" + +"I have no especial reason to hear from Mr. McCarthy," said Miss Tabor, +freezing slowly. "I suppose he is with the team." + +"He isn't! He isn't!" pleaded the girl. "He has disappeared---- +Haven't you seen the papers?" + +"Mr. McCarthy disappeared! Where? When?" Betty Tabor had forgotten +her jealousy in her startled alarm. "He isn't with the team?" + +"I read it in the papers," sobbed Helen Baldwin. "He was at my house +last evening. He left there--and he has disappeared. I hoped you +might know." + +"At your house?" Betty Tabor's alarm struggled with her jealousy. +"And he's gone? Let me see the paper." + +"I haven't seen him, Miss Baldwin," she said, after glancing at the +paper. "We thought he had gone with the team. Tell me what you know. +Perhaps we may help you. You were engaged to him, were you not?" + +"We were--once," sobbed Helen Baldwin. "But that's all over. I did +him a wrong. I never loved him--that way--and it's all my fault he's +in trouble now." + +Betty Tabor's heart leaped with a joy that overwhelmed all other +emotions. Her cold attitude toward Helen Baldwin changed, and, sinking +upon the seat beside the sobbing girl, she put her arm around her. + +"There, there," she said comfortingly, as a mother might, forgetting +that Helen Baldwin was older that she. "You must not blame yourself. +Try to tell me what happened last evening. Perhaps we may know what to +do." + +Slowly, with interruptions by hysterical moments, Helen Baldwin told +the story of her unconscious part in the conspiracy; of her alarm for +the safety of McCarthy; how she had sent for him and warned him, and of +Swanson's telephone call. + +"You'd better go home, dear, and rest," Betty said finally. "There is +nothing we can do. The men will have started the search early this +morning and notified the police. He will return." + +Helen Baldwin, calmed and reassured by the brave pretense of the +younger woman, prepared to go home. Betty Tabor assisted her to +rearrange her disordered fair hair, murmuring her admiration for it as +she worked. For the first time a smile came to the troubled face of +Helen Baldwin, and when she was ready to go she kissed Betty and held +her at arm's length. + +"You're very good and unselfish," she said in low tones. "I hope you +and he are very happy." + +"Why, Miss Baldwin," exclaimed Betty, blushing, "there is nothing +between us. He is scarcely a friend"---- + +"I know, dear," replied the taller girl, kissing her again. "He is a +very good and lovable boy, and very impetuous. He really loves you." + +She smiled a trifle wanly and turning, left the room. + +Betty Tabor turned with a sigh, just in time to see Mrs. Clancy making +violent gestures through a small crack in the door. + +"You didn't ask her," exclaimed the exasperated Mrs. Clancy. "You +didn't ask her!" + +"Ask her what?" inquired Betty in surprise. "You heard what we talked +about?" + +"Every word. I listened shamelessly," replied the manager's wife. +"'Tis my curiosity will kill me. You didn't ask her one word about who +McCarthy is. And she knows all about him!" + +"I didn't think--I forgot," said Betty, hurrying to gather her work and +belongings in preparation for leaving. + +"Where are you going, child?" asked Mrs. Clancy. + +"I'm going to dress and get an automobile to make the rounds of all the +hospitals. He may be hurt and in one." + +"Glory be! I never thought of it! Dress fast, darlin', an' I'll go +with you." + +They returned, weary and discouraged. They had not found a trace of +the missing boy. Scarcely had they reached their rooms than another +call for Miss Tabor came, and a few minutes later Technicalities Feehan +entered. + +"Mr. Feehan, what are you doing here?" both women exclaimed in chorus. + +"I'm searching for Mr. McCarthy," responded Feehan. "I reached the +city shortly after five o'clock, and, having concluded my arrangements +for finding Mr. McCarthy, it occurred to me that, having an evening of +idleness, I might devote it to no better purpose than in escorting you +ladies to some place of amusement." + +"To a theatre, with a tragedy like this happening to one of our boys!" +exclaimed Miss Tabor indignantly. + +"Rest assured, Miss Tabor," he replied, "we can do nothing, and +eventually Mr. McCarthy will be found." + +"How? Who is looking for him while we waste time?" she asked hotly. + +"My arrangements," he stated quietly, "did not include useless running +around. I called upon our managing editor, laid the figures and +conclusive data before him, and convinced him that, besides securing an +excellent news story, he can serve the team and the ends of right and +justice by seeking Mr. McCarthy." + +"Well, what did he do?" demanded Mrs. Clancy, sadly out of patience +with his deliberate manner and rather flamboyant style of expression. + +"As a result of his interest in the matter," replied Technicalities, +"eight of the most highly trained men of his staff--men who know the +city better than anyone who lives in it does--are seeking Mr. McCarthy +with orders to find him to-night." + +"How did to-day's game come out?" inquired Miss Tabor, relieved. "I +almost forgot the game." + +"Our team was defeated, 8 to 6," replied Feehan quietly. "McCarthy's +absence already has cost us one game, and I greatly fear that unless he +plays to-morrow the Bears are defeated in the championship contest." + +"Glory be! I've dropped two more stitches!" said Mrs. Clancy. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +_Williams Stands Exposed_ + +"Now here's a bally nice mess of figures," said Kennedy, holding half a +dozen much-marked-upon sheets of writing paper in his inky fingers, and +looking across the table at Swanson, Norton and Holleran. + +"What are you figuring, Ken?" asked Holleran. + +"I've been trying to figure out this pennant race," said Kennedy +irritably. "Here we seem to be half a game ahead of the Panthers, and +yet, just because it rained on them yesterday, and they didn't have to +play but one game of their doubleheader, we've got to win two games to +beat them out if they win their one game to-day." + +He handed across a sheet of paper upon which was written: + + W. L. P.C. + Bears.......... 89 59 .600 + Panthers....... 91 61 .599 + + +"Well, ain't we ahead of them?" asked Swanson, studying the figures. + +"Yes, but look here. Supposing they win to-day and we win, we'll still +be ahead. But supposing they win to-day and we win, and then we lose +to-morrow. Look at this." + +He handed over another slip of paper, upon which was written: + + W. L. P.C. + Panthers....... 92 61 .601 + Bears.......... 90 60 .600 + + +"If we don't win both these games, or if it don't rain here to-day, or +up home to-morrow, and keep us from playing, they beat us out by ten +thousandths, or thirteen hundred thousandths. Didn't I always say +thirteen was an unlucky number?" + +"I wonder who Clancy will send in to pitch to-day?" asked Kennedy, +idly. "Wilcox hasn't had enough rest. I suppose he'll be saved for +to-morrow. Jacobson isn't right, and Morgan worked yesterday and got +his trimmings. I suppose it'll be Williams." + +An ugly laugh greeted his sarcastic remark, and Norton opened his lips +as if to speak, but, thinking better of it, closed them again. + +At that moment a bell boy came into the writing room, paging Williams. +A quick exchange of glances between the players resulted and Swanson +asked, "Who wants Mr. Williams?" + +"Mr. Clancy, sir," said the boy. "He wants Mr. Williams in his room at +once." + +"Didn't I tell you?" said Kennedy, in mock triumph. + +"Say, fellows," added Swanson. "I'd give a month's pay to hear what +comes off up in that room. Clancy was on his ear this morning when I +came down. He'd been awake half the night, trying to get some word +from Kohinoor, and he was pretty well worked up. You know when he gets +started to telling a fellow what he thinks of him he does it so the +fellow believes it himself." + +"He sure can explain a fellow's shortcomings," said Kennedy. "Look, +the boy has found Williams and he is going up. He looks scared to +death." + +"Mamma, but I'd like to be among those present," said Swanson. "There +will be several developments. Hadn't we better put mattresses under +Clancy's window for Williams to light on?" + +Meantime, in Manager Clancy's room a scene was being staged that +fulfilled all the expectations of the players. Williams entered the +room with a swaggering pretense of ignorance of the nature of the +summons. + +"Morning, Manager," he said with an effort at innocent playfulness. +"How's things?" + +"Sit down, you crook!" + +Clancy had arisen as Williams entered. He shot the order at the +pitcher viciously and without warning, and, as he spoke, he stepped +past the player, and locked the door. + +Williams had gone pale. His mouth dropped open. He started to say +something, choked and sat down. + +"What--what do you mean?" he managed to stammer as Clancy came close +and stood over him threateningly. + +After his first outburst of rage Clancy was strangely quiet, speaking +in low tones, vibrating with repressed feeling. From the moment Barney +Baldwin had revealed to him his ownership of the Bears, and had issued +his positive orders that Williams should pitch the game, Clancy had +been fighting within himself, studying to find some plan of vengeance +that would strike all the plotters. Never for an instant had he +considered the thought of permitting the championship to be surrendered +by the orders of the owner. + +"Williams," he said, "you're a never-to-be-sufficiently-spit-upon cur. +You're the lowest, yellowest dog in the world. I've known for two +weeks that you have been trying to lose the pennant for us." + +"Shut up!" he snapped, lifting his voice sharply as the pitcher +attempted to speak. "I know what you've done and what you plan to do. +I know who is back of you"---- + +The pitcher cowered under the scathing denunciation and started as if +to rise. + +"Who--who's been telling you this stuff?" he quavered, terror-stricken. + +"You--you rat." Clancy's scorn stung like a lash and Williams +quivered. "I know everything. I've waited and watched when you +thought you were putting something over. I've waited for a chance to +get you"---- + +He paused a moment, while Williams, palsied with terror, sat unable to +answer. + +"And I've got you, Williams!" + +He shot the sentence at the pitcher, who half started from his seat, +lifting his hands as if to protect himself from attack. + +"I'm not going to choke you to death, I wouldn't soil my hands on you," +said the manager with a scornful laugh. + +"What are you going to do, Bill?" William's voice quivered. + +"I'm going to make you pitch to-day's game," said the manager quietly. + +A gasp of amazement and relief came from Williams. + +"You're going to pitch to-day's game, Williams," the manager repeated. +"And you're going to win it. You're going to win it, or if you don't +win I'll tell the crowd you were bribed, and I'll let the crowd handle +you. They'll tear you to pieces, Williams, and kick the pieces around +the diamond--and I'll help them do it." + +"You won't do anything to me if I win?" pleaded the pitcher. + +"No; I won't do a thing to you," said Clancy, and he spat as if to +relieve himself of a bad taste, as he turned and went out, locking the +door. + +"Good God, look at Clancy," whispered Swanson in awed tones as the +manager stepped out of the elevator a minute or two later. "He's in +his blackest form. I honestly pity Williams." + +"Swanson," said Clancy sharply. + +"What is it, Boss?" asked Swanson anxiously. + +"Nothing," snapped Clancy, "I want you to do something." + +"All right." + +"Williams is locked in my room. You watch the door. If he breaks out +kill him." + +He turned and stalked away like a man in a trance, leaving the big +shortstop staring after him. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + +_Found_ + +Technicalities Feehan was directing the hunt for Kohinoor McCarthy, the +missing third baseman of the Bears, even though it appeared to the two +women that he was wasting time. His easy confidence and certainty that +McCarthy would be found inspired something of the same spirit in Mrs. +Clancy and in Betty Tabor, and they found themselves enjoying the light +summer opera to which he had taken them, and later had laughed at his +quaint, droll tales of baseball and stories of his own experiences +during his long years of travel with the team. + +Feehan had found an appreciative audience at last, and it was half +after eleven before he broke off suddenly and announced that at +midnight he was to get reports of the results of the search and offer +his own services in the effort to find the missing player. + +"I will telephone you when I reach the office whether anything has been +ascertained," he promised, as he left them at their apartments. "After +that I will not disturb you until seven o'clock, unless McCarthy is +found. We must find him and get him to the station to catch the train +at 6.35 or our effort is wasted in so far as baseball is concerned, +although, of course, that will not cause us to cease our efforts." + +"You'll telephone me the moment you have news?" asked Miss Tabor. "Any +time--I shall not sleep much, any news--good--or bad." + +Feehan found the office force in the throes of getting out an edition, +and he sidled through the hurrying, jostling office force to the city +editor. + +"Any news?" he asked quietly. + +"Hello, Technicalities. Nothing yet. You take the case." + +Feehan hurried to his desk, instructed the telephone girls to connect +all reporters working on the McCarthy case with his desk, then +extracted a mass of papers from various pockets and commenced to study +and compile his unending statistics. + +The reporters engaged in the search were under instructions to report +at once any trace of the missing player and to report once an hour +their whereabouts and progress. Every five or ten minutes one +reported, and Feehan, laying aside his work, answered the call and +suggested new lines of investigations. + +Two o'clock came. The office was growing quieter. Weary news +gatherers slipped into their coats and departed quietly. Copy readers +and editors completed their tasks and went away. + +Three o'clock came, and Feehan was busy tabulating the statistics of +some player in a far-off league, when the telephone rang. By some +inspiration he knew a trail had been found and he reached for the +instrument with more haste than he had shown, his seventh sense +spurring him on. + +"Hello! Yes--that you, Jimmy?" + +"I've hit a trail." + +The voice was that of little Jimmy Eames, the most tireless and +persistent member of the force of news hounds employed by the paper. + +"Where?" Feehan was as calm as if only recording a fly out. + +"North Ninetieth Street Police Station," said Eames rapidly. "I picked +up a clue over on the other side of the city--inside police dope. Man +taken there last night in taxi. I'm off for there." + +Feehan pocketed his statistics and prepared for action. His voice had +ceased to drag. He uttered commands in sharp, quick words. Briefly he +detailed to each man as he called on the telephone the nature of +Eames's discovery. "Get to North Ninetieth Street Station." + +Thirty-five minutes after Eames flashed the first word to the office, +Cramer, the star police reporter, announced over the telephone. + +"McCarthy is in the black hole at North Ninetieth street. Orders from +captain. No one permitted to see him. Not booked. Sergeant in charge +don't know what he is accused of." + +"Get him out. Report in ten minutes." + +"Two hours and a half to get him out and put him on that train," Feehan +muttered. + +It was twelve minutes before Cramer called again. + +"Sergeant says he dares not turn the fellow loose. Don't know he is +McCarthy. Says orders are strict to keep him and to keep everyone away +from him." + +"Is he hurt?" + +"Turnkey says he has cut in head and bruised, but all right." + +"Pound him--pound the sergeant; make him act. Scare him! Who is the +captain?" + +"Raferty." + +"I'll reach him by 'phone." Feehan hung up the receiver. "Joe," he +said to the night man, "raise Minette, the office lawyer. Lives +somewhere up that way. His home is only a short distance from Judge +Manasse's house. Ask him for a writ of habeas corpus or something." + +Feehan was rapidly calling numbers. In fifteen minutes he had aroused +Captain Raferty. + +"Raferty," said the little man, "sorry to disturb you, but you've got a +man in the black hole in your station that we want." + +"Can't be done. Orders to hold him." + +"Orders from whom?" + +"Higher up." + +"How high?" + +"None of your business." + +"Raferty, I'm going to the top," said Feehan quickly. "If that man +isn't out by six o'clock, you'll be broken." + +"What's all this fuss about some skate?" Raferty was alarmed. "It +ain't any of my business. I'm told to hold him and not book him and I +do it. What have you got it in for me for?" + +"You'd better get to the station and get that man out or you'll have +this sheet all over you," threatened Feehan, transformed. "I'm going +higher now." + +He cut off the spluttering police captain in the midst of a snarling +complaint, half whine, half defiance. + +Half an hour of hard work brought the indignant superintendent of +police to the telephone. He curtly declined to interfere, denied all +knowledge of any such prisoner, and hung up the receiver while Feehan +was expostulating with him. + +The mild mannered, gentle little reporter was rising to the emergency. +He wiped his forehead free from the beads of sweat and looked at his +watch. It was two minutes to five when the night man reported again. + +"Minette's on his way to the station," he said. "He'll try to get +Judge Manasse to order the release, and he is carrying ten thousand +dollars in securities as a bond." + +"Good," said Feehan rapidly. "Give me Gracemont 1328," he called +quickly. + +"Going after the mayor?" inquired the night man casually. "He'll be +sore as a boil. Orders are not to disturb him after midnight." + +"I've got to get him," said Feehan. "We can't fall down now after +we've located McCarthy." + +There was no reply to the call for the mayor's telephone number, and +while waiting, Feehan slipped to another telephone and called the hotel +at which the ball players lived, asking for the Clancy apartments. +Betty Tabor answered the summons. + +"We've found him," said Feehan. "He's alive and well." + +"Where is he?" asked the girl breathlessly. + +"He's in a cell at the North Ninetieth Street Police Station--about +half a mile from your hotel. I want you to do something." + +"What is it?" she asked. "Hurry--I haven't undressed. Is there +anything I can do?" + +"Yes," he said. "He's locked up and we're tearing the town to pieces +trying to get him out of the station. It may be an hour--and he must +catch that train. Can you arrange at your hotel to have a fast taxi to +take him to the railroad station when he gets out, if there is a chance +to catch the train?" + +"Wait--yes, yes," she said eagerly. "The manager here has a fast +machine that he has been letting me use. I'll get it. The garage is +only a few doors." + +"You'll take him yourself?" he said in surprise. + +"Yes," she said. "I must hurry." + +Again and again Feehan urged the telephone girl to try to get a reply +to the call for the mayor. Beads of sweat stood upon his face, as he +begged her to try again and summoned the manager to his assistance. He +glanced at his watch. It was eight minutes to six o'clock. + +"I must get him," he told the telephone girl for the dozenth time. + +"Sorry--no one will answer," she said wearily. "I've tried--wait a +minute, there's someone now." + +"Hello," said a hearty voice. + +"Your Honor"--Feehan's voice was pregnant with pleading--"this is +Feehan, the baseball writer." + +"Hello, Feehan," came the quick response. "Why aren't you with the +team, or did you just get in to honor me with this early call?" + +"Your Honor," pleaded Feehan, recalling suddenly that the mayor was an +ardent baseball "fan." "I've been searching for McCarthy. He's in the +North Ninetieth Street Station, held without being booked. I've been +trying for hours to get him out so he can join the team." + +"What charge?" demanded the mayor sharply. + +"No charge. He is being held to keep him from playing. If he doesn't +catch this morning's train the pennant is lost." + +"Here's where I make a pinch hit, then," said the mayor sharply. + +Feehan heard the receiver bang down. With a sigh of relief he hung up +his receiver and grinned at Joe. + +"He's a baseball fan," was all the explanation he offered. + +An anxious wait ensued, then Cramer telephones: + +"McCarthy just got out, mayor's orders. Pretty well bunged up, but +says he can play. He's gone with some girl in an auto. She was +waiting for him." + +Feehan glanced at his watch. It was 6.23. + +"Twelve minutes for two and a half miles," he muttered. "They'll just +make it." + +And with a sigh he picked up his scattered sheets and muttered: + +"Let's see, what did this fellow Houseman hit last season?" + + + + +CHAPTER XXX + +_A Race to Save the Day_ + +Kohinoor McCarthy, emerging from his cell into the fetid atmosphere of +the receiving room of the police station, was met by Cramer, who broke +from the group of reporters, lawyers and police officials stirred to +activity at that early hour by the frantic efforts of Technicalities +Feehan. His head was rudely bandaged and his discolored face was +swollen and cut. + +There was no time for questionings. + +"Hurry, McCarthy," said Cramer. "There is an automobile outside +waiting to take you to the station. You have about a quarter of an +hour to catch the train." + +McCarthy, with a word of thanks, hastened through the station, leaped +down the steps with an agility that proved his injuries did not affect +his speed, and sprang to the car. + +The morning sun was just commencing to reach down into the cavern of +the street into which the car leaped, and it shone directly in their +eyes. The car lurched around a corner and swung into the avenue for +the race to the station. At that instant the girl's veil flapped back, +revealing her face. + +"Betty!" exclaimed McCarthy. "You"---- + +"You didn't know me?" she asked as she steadied the car and increased +its pace over the smooth asphalt. + +"Why are you here? What are you doing?" he asked in astonishment. + +"I had to come," she replied swiftly. "There was no one else. We must +catch the train. Don't talk, please." + +He leaned back wearily and watched the street as it seemed to flow past +them. + +"How much time have we?" he asked above the roaring of the wind. + +"The train leaves at 6.35," she called back, without lifting her eyes. +"Watch for clocks." + +She had increased the speed gradually and the light car jumped as it +struck a cross-town street-car track. Suddenly the car jolted, slid to +a quick stop and with an exclamation of despair the girl strove to +reverse and killed the engine. + +"The street is closed below," she said. "Crank up, the engine is dead." + +McCarthy leaped from the car and cranked rapidly. A precious minute +was lost before the engine throbbed and the girl, turning the car +quickly, ran back a block, swung across to a side street and raced for +the station. + +"The captain of the bell boys is waiting with the tickets. I sent him +before I left the hotel," she said without lifting her eyes. "Jump +from the car the moment I stop. He'll meet you at the gate." + +"Two minutes--can we make it?" he asked. + +"We'll try." Her face was set and white. She whirled the corner of +the avenue onto the side street at full speed. A block and a half away +was the station. The car was at racing speed now. The girl kept the +siren screaming, hoping for a clear way. They tore toward the +intersection of the streets--and directly ahead a lumbering team of +horses, drawing a heavy wagon, trundled across their path. With a +sudden swerve, a grinding of the emergency and a sickening lurch, the +car checked its mad flight, scraped past the rear of the wagon, and +gathering speed renewed the race against time. + +"Goodbye," he said, leaning suddenly inward as the car commenced to +lose momentum. "When I come back"---- + +"Hurry, hurry," she pleaded. "Run"---- + +He leaped before the car stopped and, with one glance back toward her, +sprinted down the long passageway. + +The gate was closing. He cried aloud, and ran faster. The gate +clanged. A boy in uniform ran to him and shoved tickets into his hands +as they ran side by side. + +"Open it! Let me through!" he screamed at the gateman, just starting +to lock the gate. + +McCarthy was sprinting desperately in pursuit of the train already half +way down the long train shed. He ran until his heart pounded audibly +against his ribs, straining every muscle, and crying for the train to +stop. Faster and faster it went, and, near the end of the station, +McCarthy realized he had lost the race and, stopping, he stood +dejectedly looking after the rapidly disappearing observation car. + +The gateman let him out with a sympathetic word, but he did not raise +his head. He knew that, 235 miles away, twenty men were hoping for his +arrival. He would hire a special train. He whirled at the +thought--and then remembered he was without money. + +He felt a hand touch his arm and, turning quickly, he saw Betty Tabor. + +"I missed it," he said, hopelessly. + +"I know, I know," she responded quickly. "The boy who had the tickets +told me. There is no time to lose. I have a plan." + +"A special train?" he asked. "I have no money." + +"The auto," she replied quickly. "I will drive it. I've driven it +hundreds of miles"---- + +"Betty," he expostulated, using her name unconsciously. "You +cannot--maybe we can find a driver." + +"I can and I will," she said decisively; "it is only 235 miles. We +have eight hours. We can make it. The car is fast and easy to handle." + +Still arguing, she led him back to the car, and they rode quickly back +to the hotel over part of the route they had traversed during their +wild flight. They breakfasted while the car was being prepared for the +run, studying road maps while they ate. + +"Betty, how can I ever thank you," he said, leaning forward over the +table. + +"By calling me Miss Tabor and winning the game to-day," she said, +coolly, without looking up from the maps. + +"The car is ready," the head waiter announced. "A good trip to you, +Miss Tabor." + +"You have a good driver, McCarthy," said the manager, who alone knew +the object of the trip. "She handles that car better than I do. I +have given her permission to tear it to pieces to get you through." + +The start was undramatic. The car rolled easily along to the drive and +presently was lifting and dropping over the hills of the splendid +speedway. A gentle breeze from the river fanned them as they rushed +through it. + +In five minutes they were clear of the congested traffic on the bridge +and the car, gathering speed, rushed into the hills on the opposite +side of the river. Five minutes later the car was quivering with its +increasing speed and McCarthy, looking at the gauge, saw that it +registered forty-seven miles, and was still sliding forward. Fourteen +miles across the rolling plateau the car raced with sustained speed, +the engine humming in perfect tune and only the heavier vibration of +the tires attesting the speed. At slower pace the car climbed among +the ridge of hills that had been rising ahead, and after five miles of +rougher going it turned into the old stage road. + +"It's five minutes past nine," said the girl, "and we've done more than +forty miles already. The next forty is good and we'll try to gain +time." + +"We ought to make it easily," he responded brightly. "You're a +heroine." + +"I do not know what the roads are beyond Hedgeport," she interrupted +anxiously. "It is hill country. It rained two days ago." + +She had steadily increased the speed again until the indicator kept +constantly around the forty-five mile mark. The speed was terrific and +made conversation almost impossible. + +"Hadn't you better rest? You must be tired," he screamed above the +noise of the car. + +"Arms are cramped," she replied, without lifting her eyes from the road +ahead. "We'll take gas at Hedgeport and walk around. We will lunch +somewhere near Hilton. We'll be over the worst of the road then." + +"I wish I could help you," called McCarthy, after a long silence. + +She shook her head, and, after the car had throbbed up the next incline +and was sailing, hawklike, down the opposite side, she said: + +"You'll need your strength for the game. There's Hedgeport now." + +Before them, set on the hillside, lay the little city. It seemed as if +the houses grew by magic as they rushed upon it. They flashed past a +few market wagons, passed another auto chugging along busily, and +slackened the pace as the car rolled upon the brick pavements and +toward the heart of the city. + +"A hundred and thirty-one miles in a little over three hours," said +McCarthy, elated. "That leaves us one hundred and four miles and more +than four hours to make it in. We've won." + +"The road has been perfect," Betty Tabor said. "For the next fifty +miles it is marked bad." + +She turned quietly to ask questions of the mechanician, who was +overhauling and examining every part of the machine, and examining the +feed pipes. Another man was filling the tanks and using oil +plentifully. + +"My hands and wrists are cramped and numb," she remarked, turning to +McCarthy. + +"Let the man drive the rest of the way. He knows the road," he urged. + +"And leave me--to miss the game?" she asked. "Not much. Rub my hands, +please." + +She extended her strong, firm hand and McCarthy, bending over it, +massaged and slapped it vigorously. + +"Don't break it, please," she said, laughing. "Take the other one." + +"Both," he whispered, his voice full of meaning. + +"All ready," announced the garage keeper. "I think she'll stand it +now." + +"It's 11.10," said McCarthy. "If we get there by three." + +"If we get there at all," she said, "even if you are late, you can get +into the game." + +For five miles they sped along over perfect roads, then suddenly a long +stretch of new macadam loomed ahead. For three miles they lurched and +struggled, and were free again, but the road was heavy and slow. Up +hill and down they fought the road, at times slipping, lurching and +skidding while the girl coaxed the car onward. The road grew worse and +worse. The hills were steeper. The rain-guttered mud at times almost +stalled the car. + +"Twenty miles in an hour and ten minutes," groaned McCarthy. "This +won't do." + +The next hour was even worse. The girl was showing signs of weariness +and the strain of holding the machine in the rough going. Three miles +of good road across a hill-top plateau raised their courage, then they +encountered sand. + +It was twenty minutes to two o'clock, when, mud splattered, they raced +into Hilton, with the car missing fire in one cylinder, the engine +smoking and gasoline almost exhausted. + +McCarthy almost lifted Betty Tabor from the car as they stopped at the +garage and she gave rapid directions to the manager, explaining the +need of haste. + +"I'm afraid the car won't get you through," he said, "but we'll try." + +"Have it ready at two o'clock," she ordered quickly. "We must get +through somehow." + +"It's thirty-four miles," he said. "But the roads are fair. If the +car was in shape it would be easy." + +"We'll eat lunch while you overhaul it," she replied. + +McCarthy secured the lunch from the car and they spread it upon the +grass in the yard and ate. The girl was too weary for conversation, +but as she ate she seemed to gain strength and courage. + +"We'll get there before the game is over, anyhow," she said quietly. +"I want to see Williams's face when you come onto the field." + +"I thought you and he"---- + +"I never have liked him," she interrupted quickly. + +Three minutes before the town clock chimed the hour of two in Hilton, +the machine, again running smoothly, shot out from the garage. Its +occupants, refreshed and more cheerful, faced the final stretch of the +long race. + +"Fourteen miles in twenty-one minutes," cried McCarthy, as the mile +posts flashed by. "We'll be there." + +[Illustration: "FOURTEEN MILES IN TWENTY-ONE MINUTES"] + +Ten minutes later the smoke haze that hangs eternally over the great +city of the Blues was visible. The country homes along the road over +which they sped were closer and closer together. + +"Only ten more miles," McCarthy shouted triumphantly. + +"We can cut across to the west here," she said as she swung the car +into an avenue. "This goes near the ball park and we'll save three +miles." + +"Hurray," he shouted. "Then it's only seven miles." + +The girl did not reply. She was weary and her fair face showed haggard +lines. Their progress became slower, although two or three times +policemen turned to watch them, as if to interfere. + +The grandstand was close now. The steady roar of the huge crowd inside +pulsed and beat upon them. A bell rang. + +"That's either game time or last fielding practice," screamed McCarthy. +"Hurry, please, hurry." + +The car suddenly swung out of the line, sent a swarm of pedestrians +scurrying, and jarred to a stop at the entrance marked "Players." + +"Betty," said McCarthy, as he started to lift her from the car---- + +"Hurry," she said, faint from weariness and the reaction. "You must +dress." + +He ran stiffly toward the dressing room under the stand. Bill Tascott, +the umpire, was just starting toward the field. + +"McCarthy!" he exclaimed at sight of the specter covered with mud and +with cut and bruised features. + +"Bill, don't start the game yet," panted McCarthy beseechingly. "Wait +till I dress. Please tell Clancy I'm here." + +"I'll tell him. I'll delay the game. Can you play?" said the umpire +rapidly. + +"Yes--give me time to dress." + +Jack, the trainer, quiet after his first outburst of surprise, was +preparing the hot shower and working like mad over the weary player and +when Clancy, summoned by a quiet word from the umpire, rushed into the +player's room, McCarthy was sighing luxuriously as the trainer soaked +his weary, cramped limbs with witch hazel. + +"Hurry, Jack," ordered Clancy as he squeezed McCarthy's hands. "I knew +you'd come, Kohinoor." + +"Am I in time?" asked the player. "Get my uniform out, please." + +"Just in time. Good old Bill Tascott is delaying the game. You ought +to see him raising cain over his mask being lost. He hid it in our +bench and is accusing the Blues of stealing it. He won't start the +game until you are ready." + +In five minutes they rushed him toward the little gate by which the +players enter the field from under the stands, just in time to hear +Bill Tascott announce: + +"Batteries for to-day's game--Wiley and Kirkpatrick for the Blues; +Williams and Kennedy for the Bears." He glanced toward the group +emerging from under the stands and his voice rang with gladness as he +yelled, in louder tones: + +"McCarthy will play third base." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI + +_The Plotters Foiled_ + +The gasp of astonishment with which the crowd greeted the announcement +that Williams would pitch gave way quickly to a cry of surprise that +rose to a roar of applause when Bill Tascott announced that McCarthy +would play third base. + +He walked slowly out toward third base, the huge arm of Swanson, who +with a bellow of gladness had raced to meet and embrace him, around his +shoulders, while the great crowd stood and howled with excitement and +hummed with curiosity as to the explanation of his reappearance. Had +Clancy tricked the Blues and produced his third baseman at the dramatic +instant, hoping to unnerve them? Had McCarthy been hurt? A thousand +conjectures and questions flashed around the field. + +The announcement by Bill Tascott was a double shock to two persons +sitting in one of the front boxes near the Bears' bench. Barney +Baldwin brought his fat hand down with a thump upon the shoulders of +the rat-faced, cold-eyed man who sat next to him, and shouted, "I told +you so!" + +Easy Ed Edwards, paler than usual, turned angrily toward the +politician, restrained himself, and resumed his steady scrutiny of the +field. When the umpire announced McCarthy playing third, Baldwin, in +his astonishment, half arose and Edwards started quickly. + +"Sit down, you fool," he said sharply. "We're in enough trouble +without you giving us away. Clancy was watching us from the bench. +They're wise to you." + +"To me!" ejaculated Baldwin. "I like your nerve"---- + +"You're the only one they can connect with McCarthy's--accident," he +said coldly. "There'll be h---- to pay at home." + +McCarthy's head was bandaged afresh, strips of court-plaster decorated +his face, and even from the stands the black bruises around his eyes +were visible. + +Nearly forty thousand persons were watching, unaware of the full +meaning of the complex drama they were witnessing. McCarthy was so +astonished at hearing that Williams was pitching that he turned to +Swanson. + +"What does it mean, Silent?" he asked anxiously. + +"Clancy made him pitch," whispered Swanson rapidly as they went toward +the bench. "He has had him locked in his room all day and Williams is +scared stiff. Look at him." + +The pitcher was white to the mouth, and he licked his lips nervously as +if in a fever, as he sat during the first inning while his own team +endeavored to make a run. Clancy, his face hard, sat next to him, +terrible in his rigidity. + +Three of the Bears retired in rapid order and the team raced for the +field. A roar of applause greeted them, and as McCarthy ran along in +front of the stands, the applause followed him like a wave. It was +clear some hint of the truth was spreading through the crowd. Williams +hung back when the team started for the field. + +"I can't, Bill. Oh, God, I can't," he wailed. "Please"---- + +"Get out there and pitch! Pitch whatever Kennedy signals for, and if +you don't"---- + +"I'll try, Bill. But if"---- + +"There are no ifs," snarled the manager, half rising. + +Williams walked to his position, a glare of terror in his eyes, as if +he contemplated flight. He was wild and erratic at the start. Two +balls sailed wide from the plate, and Swanson ran to him. + +"Get that next one over or I'll signal Clancy," he said. + +Williams put every ounce of power into his throwing arm, and the ball +cut the heart of the plate, jumping. + +"The old hop on it!" yelled McCarthy. "That's pitching, Adonis; that's +pitching." + +Williams stood staring toward him as if dumfounded. A grateful look +came into his eyes. + +"Now the old hook, Adonis," yelled McCarthy. "Something on every one +to-day, remember!" + +An outburst of cheering arose from the crowd. Those who had heard or +read the stories and rumors of the enmity between the two thought they +recognized the magnanimity of the third baseman and admired him. +Another strike whizzed over the plate, and a fast ball hopped while the +batter swung. The strike out was greeted with a howl of applause. +Williams glanced toward the stands. His eyes met those of Edwards +fixed upon him, and his nerve broke. He pitched without looking to see +what Kennedy signaled, and "Sacred" White, the center fielder of the +Blues, drove the ball to left center for three bases. Kennedy gave a +quick glance at Clancy, who sat staring straight ahead. Swanson rushed +upon Williams, who, trembling with fear, waved him back. He pitched +desperately, but Wertheim hit a long fly to center and "Sacred" White +scampered home. + +"I didn't do it, Bill. Honestly, I didn't," pleaded Williams, as he +returned to the bench and resumed his seat next to the manager. + +"Williams," said Clancy coldly, "you pitched without a signal. I've +got men in the stands to pass circulars telling exactly what you have +done. If that happens again I'll signal them, and when the crowd gets +you, may the Lord have mercy"---- + +"I'll pitch--I was trying," begged the pitcher. "Don't turn the crowd +loose on me. They'll kill me." + +"Then win," ordered Clancy. + +The fifth came with the score 1 to 0 and Wiley pitching at his best. +Williams had lost some of his nervousness. Either he had made up his +mind to betray Edwards, and strive to win, or he was pitching, as he +thought, for his life. His fast ball was cutting the plate, and even +when the Blues hit it they popped the ball into the air for easy outs. +The last half of the fifth started. Williams, glancing toward the +stand as he walked out to the slab, saw Edwards. Edwards made a quick +signal with his hand and turned his face away. Williams went to the +slab entirely unnerved. He was wild, and a base on balls gave the +Blues another opening. Instantly Swanson charged upon him and renewed +his threats, and Williams, after pitching two more balls wild, got one +over the plate, and Henderson sacrificed, putting Hickman on second. +Kirkpatrick drove a hard bounder at Norton, who fumbled, recovered, +threw wild and Malone scored. + +McCarthy was feeling deadly weary. The racking ride in the automobile, +the injuries received at the hands of Edwards and his prize-fighter +employe, the loss of sleep and the anxiety, added to the strain of the +game, had sapped his youthful vitality. Williams, under the dire +threats of Clancy, Kennedy and Swanson, was pitching steadily. He was +inspired now by a new hope: That he might lose the game and not be +blamed for defeat and at the same time escape the vengeance of Edwards +by pretending he lost it purposely. + +"We ought to get at him this time, boys," called Swanson, as the Bears +opened their eighth inning. "We've got to. Look out there--at the +score board--the Panthers are winning, 4 to 1, and it means the +pennant." + +Suddenly Noisy Norton, the silent man, sprang to his feet and rushed to +the coaching lines. + +"Wow! Little of the old pep, boys!" he yelled. + +"Whoop! We've got it won now. Noisy is coaching. Come on, boys--get +at them!" yelled Swanson. + +Out by first base, Norton, who had never been on the coaching lines in +the five years he had played with the Bears, was ranting and screaming +like a wild man. The spirit of the thing came over the Bears. +Kennedy, rushing to the bat, cracked the first ball that Wiley pitched +to center for a single. A moment later little McBeth, who had been +fretting his soul out on the bench for three months, leaped toward the +bat like a hound unleashed. He never had played in a major league game +before, and Wiley teased him into swinging at two slow twisters, then +attempted to waste a curve high and outside the plate. The boy, his +teeth set, waded into the ball, drove it over third for a base hit, +and, with runners on first and third, Swanson came rushing up and drove +a line single to left that scored Kennedy and sent the speedy little +McBeth scurrying around to third. + +McCarthy was coming to bat. He swung two bats, testing their weight, +and walked toward the plate. The excitement of the rally had revived +his waning strength and stirred his jaded nerves. Swanson signaled his +intention to steal on the first ball pitched. McCarthy crouched, and +as the ball came he swung viciously at it, not intending to hit it, but +to give Swanson the advantage by hampering the catcher. The strike was +wasted, as the catcher, knowing the speed of McBeth, bluffed at +throwing, and held the ball, hoping to lure the substitute off third +base and let Swanson reach second without trouble. + +The next ball McCarthy fouled against the stands for a second strike. +A great dread came over him as he heard the roar of the crowd. He +turned to watch the Blue's catcher recover the ball, and at that +instant he saw the face of Betty Tabor, strained, white, beseeching, as +the girl, still mud-splattered and stained from the long race, leaned +forward. Her face revealed all the hopes and fears that surged within +her. As McCarthy's heart leaped with grim resolve he saw another face +that caused him to step back out of the batter's box and, while +pretending to rub dirt upon his hands, to glance again. + +James Lawrence, his uncle and guardian, was sitting in the box next to +that in which Betty Tabor was voicelessly beseeching him to win the +game. + +"Hit it, Larry--hit it!" + +The sound of the name called by the familiar voice, the sight of the +agony in the girl's face, spurred him to desperation. He delayed, +wiped his hands carefully, stepped into position and waited. Wiley +wound up. A fast curve flashed toward the plate. McCarthy took one +step forward, snapped his bat against the ball. The Blues' third +baseman leaped wildly, stuck up one hand, the ball went on, struck two +feet inside the foul line, and before it ceased rolling around the +stands two runs were across the plate. McCarthy was on third, and the +Bears were in the lead. + +The inning ended with McCarthy still on third, and the score 3 to 2 in +favor of the Bears. + +Wilcox, who had been kept warmed up during the entire game, ready to +rush to the slab if Williams weakened, went in to pitch and held the +Blues in the eighth, and in their ninth the Bears drew a blank. + +McCarthy knew he was very weary. Only by his will power did he make +his tired, aching limbs obey his brain. He ached in every muscle, and +his brain seemed dulled. Gallagher hit a long fly to Pardridge. +Swanson was still shouting, urging Wilcox to cinch the victory, +encouraging, leading, fighting with every nerve for the victory. +Henderson drove a two-base hit to center field, and Swanson redoubled +his efforts to brace the team against a rally that might rob them of +their victory. Kirkpatrick, a dangerous hitter at any time, drove a +fast bounder at Norton. The little second baseman set himself for the +ball. It took a bad bounce, struck his wrist and rolled away only a +few feet. He was after it in an instant, but he knew that +Kirkpatrick's terrific speed would get him to first ahead of the ball. +As Norton's fingers gripped the ball he thought of another play. +Henderson would go to third on the fumble, turn the base, look to see +where the ball was, and if it had broken through the infield far +enough, he would try to score. For an instant, Norton knew, the runner +would halt, undecided, six feet from third, and if the ball was +there---- Without looking, Norton hurled the ball toward third. +McCarthy saw it coming. He realized the play that Norton had attempted +to make to save the day. He grabbed the ball and dived desperately +between the runner and the bag. Henderson, trapped, leaped back toward +the base, feet first. McCarthy felt the shock of the collision, felt +the spikes bite into his arm, and he held his ground, blocking the +runner away. He heard Bill Tascott's cry of "Out!" and, dazed, hurt +and dizzy, he arose slowly and tossed the ball back to Wilcox. +Trentman, the great pinch hitter of the Blues, was sent in to attempt +to snatch victory from defeat. Twice he drove fierce line fouls past +third base, then he lifted a high foul and, as the ball settled into +Kennedy's mitt, McCarthy swayed upon his feet. + +"Help me, Silent; I'm all in." + +Through the eddying, shouting, scrambling crowd that had swarmed +cheering upon the field, Swanson half led, half carried his exhausted +mate. + +They had pressed close to the exit to the club dressing rooms, when +suddenly a great shout smote the air. A tremor of fresh excitement ran +through the crowd. + +"What is it, Silent?" asked McCarthy anxiously. + +"It's the Scoreboard!" yelled Swanson. "Look! The Jackrabbits scored +five in the eighth inning and beat the Panthers out, 6 to 4. Boy, +we're champions!" + +McCarthy did an odd thing. He slid quietly to the ground in a faint, +and they carried him to the dressing rooms. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII + +_Rejoicing_ + +McCarthy slept the deep, dreamless sleep of exhaustion. He slept all +the way during the homeward journey, waking refreshed and only a trifle +stiff when he was called early in the morning to disembark. He and +Swanson rode to the hotel in a taxicab, anxious to escape from the +crowds that gathered to witness the arrival of the champions after +their sensational victory. + +"Don't run," urged Swanson, "I'm a hog for punishment of this kind. I +could stand around all year and let these people cheer me. It sounds +good after what I've heard them say. See that big fellow, yelling his +head off, there? He's the same one that yelled 'rotten' at me for two +months in the middle of the season." + +"Let's have breakfast up in the room," urged McCarthy. "Get them to +send up all the morning papers. I want to read what they say about the +game." + +"They say enough, judging from the headlines," replied Swanson. "Let's +eat down here and bask in the admiration of these fellows who have been +calling us dubs. Pose for them, Kohinoor! You're a hero! Don't you +know a hero has to stand on his pedestal all day and smile? Smile, +darn you!" + +In spite of the giant's good-natured badinage they hurried to their +rooms and ordered breakfast and newspapers. + +"They've got most of the story," said McCarthy. "They have written a +lot of guff about---- Oh, they make a heroine out of Miss Tabor. Look +at her picture. Where did they get it? I never had one." + +"Get the original," said Swanson gruffly, his mouth full of toast. +"See this: Easy Ed Edwards has run. He skipped before the game was +over, and the paper says he has carried off a hundred thousand dollars +in money that was bet with him and is fleeing to Europe." + +"Williams made his getaway, too," said McCarthy, eagerly scanning the +papers. + +"Where did he go? I saw him slide off the bench in the eighth while we +were scoring and start toward the club house. Guess he was afraid of +Edwards." + +"Darn the luck," growled Swanson. "Here's all that stuff about Kennedy +and me being licked in the saloon. The whole story is out." + +"There's one thing I want to find out," said Swanson, clenching his +fist. "And that is who the big guy was that Edwards hired as his +slugger. The season won't be complete until I hook this old grounder +grabber of mine on his jaw." + +"I've got a bit of business," announced McCarthy, after an hour of +excited conversation. + +"Wait till she gets through breakfast," insinuated Swanson insultingly. +"Going to desert your old pal for a skirt so soon?" + +"Aw, shut up," said McCarthy. "I've got to thank her, haven't I?" + +Swanson was silent for an instant. A serious expression came over his +homely, good-natured face. + +"I hope you win her, Kohinoor," he said, simply, putting his big arm +across McCarthy's shoulders. "You deserve her--I wanted her myself, +once." + +Without another word he went over and sat down, picking up a paper, and +McCarthy, walking to him, said: + +"I'm sorry, Silent, maybe"---- + +"No maybe about it," said Swanson without looking up, "I lost, long +ago." + +McCarthy descended two flights of stairs and knocked timidly at the +door of the Clancy apartments. He expected to find Betty Tabor with +Mrs. Clancy, but the girl was alone, the Clancys not having finished +their breakfast. + +"Betty," he exclaimed, taking both her outstretched hands, "Betty--I +had to come--I wanted to tell you--I love you." + +"Oh," she said in surprise, "I"---- + +His arm slipped around her waist and he drew her close. + +"I have loved you from the first," he said, pleadingly. "I wanted to +tell you yesterday. I thought you cared then; you do care for me, +don't you?" + +"Yes, Larry," she said softly, hiding her face. "I think I have--from +the first." + +"From the first--the very first, dearest?" he asked tenderly. "From +the day we met--years ago?" + +"Years ago?" she asked in surprise. "Then you are? Yes, you are; you +must be the little boy who was crying in the train? I knew when you +came with the club we had met somewhere, and I could not remember +where." + +"Did you remember the little boy?" he asked. + +"Yes, Larry," she said "I never have forgotten. I used to pray for him +every night; that he might be happy in his new home. I kept the +picture of him that was taken at Portland and I often have thought of +him." + +"It must have been meant that we should meet, dearest," he whispered. + +"Yes, Larry," she replied softly. + +He kissed her and held her close. + +"Larry!" he exclaimed. "Where did you learn my name, sweetheart?" + +"The old gentleman in the box next to us at the game called you +Larry--and it seemed to fit you better than Jim does." She laughed. + +"He is my uncle--my father, almost. You will meet him soon, and then I +will explain how I became McCarthy." + +At that instant Manager Clancy and his wife entered abruptly, followed +by Technicalities Feehan. Betty Tabor blushed and struggled to +extricate herself from McCarthy's arms, but he held her close and +announced: + +"Betty has just promised to become my wife." + +A shower of congratulation followed, and Mrs. Clancy became so excited +she dropped her fancy work and kissed both, then kissed Feehan, and +that surprised reporter dropped his precious manuscript in his +embarrassment. + +A few moments after McCarthy left his room to make the call that +resulted in his happiness being established, Swanson was aroused from +his reverie by insistent rapping upon the door, and in response to his +welcoming cry, a tall, slender old man with bristling moustache, +stormed into the apartment. + +"Where's that young scoundrel who calls himself McCarthy?" he demanded, +brandishing his cane threateningly. + +"Hello, grandpaw," said Swanson. "Who dealt you a hand?" + +"You're another one of those rascally ballplayers!" charged the man +violently. "I know you--you've been leading my nephew into all sorts +of wild scrapes, disgracing the family"---- + +"You Kohinoor's uncle?" howled Swanson joyously as he sprang up and +seized the old gentleman with a bear hug and waltzed him around. +"Welcome to our fair city, uncle. I adopt you right now. Kohinoor is +my chum. How does it seem to be the uncle of a hero?" + +"Release me, you scoundrel," puffed the uncle. "Release me or I'll +cane you! Where is he?" + +"Truth is, uncle, he's gone skirting," said Swanson, releasing his +victim. + +"Gone where?" asked the uncle. + +"Skirting--calling on a girl--and between you and me, uncle, he's got +the best chance to win her, and she's worth winning." + +"What, another?" demanded the uncle. "Then he hasn't eloped with that +blond niece of that crook, Baldwin?" + +"Not on your life," said Swanson, "he's won the best little girl in the +world." + +In five minutes they were laughing and chatting like old friends, and +the uncle was boasting of his nephew's prowess at baseball. + +"Hang it," he stormed, "I ought to cane him, the young rascal, for +treating me this way. He never let me know he was playing, and I only +got to see one game. But wasn't that a--what do you call it--a corker?" + +"Let's go to them," proposed Swanson. + +And into the tableau of congratulations that was being presented in the +Clancy apartment Swanson burst, leading the old gentleman, who was +struggling to smile and to be angry at the same time. + +"Look who's here," he shouted. "Kohinoor's uncle, and from the looks +of things he has arrived just at the right minute to give his blessing." + +"Uncle Jim," exclaimed McCarthy, stepping forward quickly. + +"Larry, you young rascal!--Larry"---- + +His voice broke and tears rolled down his cheeks as he put his arm +around the boy's neck and wept. "Larry, you young scoundrel, what did +you mean by running away from your old uncle?" + +"Uncle Jim," said McCarthy seriously, as he put his arm around the old +man's waist, "I was a fool. I found it out and I was coming home to +tell you I was wrong and beg you to forgive me, but I could not leave +the team when it needed me. I was only a foolish boy. If you can +forgive"---- + +"It's all right now, Larry, boy," said the old man, wiping his eyes and +laughing happily. "I was certain you'd come to your senses and find +you didn't love that girl." + +"I am certain you will not object to the young lady I am going to +marry, Uncle Jim"---- + +"Marry!" cried Mr. Lawrence angrily. "Nonsense! You're not going to +marry anyone! Here we just make up and you want to start the quarrel +all over again. Marry? You young scoundrel! You're going to stay at +home with me"---- + +"Don't say that until you meet her, Uncle Jim," and, putting his arm +around Betty Tabor's waist, he said, "Uncle Jim, I want you to meet +Miss Betty Tabor, who has just honored me by promising to become my +wife." + +"Why, bless my heart! Bless my heart!" exclaimed the old man in +surprise. "If it isn't the young woman who sat in the box next to me +at the game! I fell in love with you, my dear, when you applauded +Larry. Marry her? If you don't marry her, you young rascal, I'll cut +you off in my will. Not a penny, you understand--not a penny." + +He kissed Betty Tabor gallantly while the others laughed and he bowed +low over Mrs. Clancy's hand as Kohinoor presented him to the manager +and his wife. + +"Are you the Mr. Lawrence they call the Lumber King in Oregon?" +inquired Clancy, as he shook hands. + +"They call me that out there," said the old man, testily. "Call +themselves democratic--then King everyone who makes a few dollars--bah." + +"Oh," exclaimed Miss Tabor, in sudden alarm. "Then Larry is rich?" + +"Never mind that, sweetheart," he said, consolingly. "We can live on +my baseball salary if Uncle Jim cuts us off." + +"Cut you off, nonsense!" the old man exclaimed testily. "You'll have +all my money if you behave yourself and obey me. Young scoundrel never +would obey me." + +"I've learned to obey in baseball, uncle," replied Kohinoor seriously. +"Ask Mr. Clancy if I haven't." + +"I'm so glad, Larry," said Miss Tabor brightly, "that you asked me +before I knew you were going to be rich." + +"Young rascal must have learned some sense," growled his uncle. "He +picked out just the girl I wanted him to. When I saw you at the game, +my dear, I said to myself: 'Now if Larry would only choose a girl like +that, I'd make her my daughter.'" + +"You're the worst flatterer of them all--Mr.--Lawrence," said the girl, +blushing and laughing. + +"You must call me Uncle Jim, my dear," he insisted in his most +tyrannical tones. "And understand, Miss, I'm boss of this family." + +"By the way, Kirkland," said Technicalities Feehan, who had been busily +engaged studying some statistics he had taken from his pocket, "what +did you hit the last year you were at Cascade College?" + +"Kirkland?" exclaimed Miss Tabor. "Then your name isn't James +Lawrence?" + +"I forgot," he responded, laughing at her bewilderment. "Your name +will be Mrs. James Lawrence Kirkland; I was named for Uncle Jim. How +did you find it out?" he added, turning to Feehan. + +"I knew it the second day you were with the Bears," replied Feehan. "I +have all your records, excepting those of your final year at the +university. Did you hit .332 or .318? The records do not agree." + +Ten days later, on the night after the Bears triumphantly won the +World's Championship, there was a jolly party in the banquet hall of +one of the great hotels. Jimmy McCarthy was giving a farewell dinner +to his friends and comrades of the Bear team. The dinner had been +eaten, the toasts to the team and its manager drunk, and McCarthy arose. + +"Boys," he said, "I'm not going to try to make a speech. I want to +thank you all for your kindness to the tramp who came to you when he +needed friends. And now my uncle has a little announcement to make +which I know you all will be glad to hear." + +A round of applause greeted the testy old gentleman as he arose, +scolding his nephew for calling upon him. In the ten days that he had +traveled with them he had become the idol of the Bears, and he proudly +claimed credit for their victories, declared he was their mascot, and +called each one by his first name. + +"Nothing at all. Just a little matter," he said, testily. "Young +rascal shouldn't have mentioned it. All it amounts to is that +yesterday I bought Baldwin's stock in this ball club. He's a disgrace +to the business. I made him sell out. I'm holding the stock for +Clancy. He can have it at the price I paid any time he gets the money. +Just bought it to get that crook, Baldwin, out." + +He sat down amid a riot of cheering, while Clancy, who had not been +informed of the deal, arose and stammered his bewildered thanks, as he +strove to realize that a fortune had been thrust upon him. When the +excitement had died down and a toast to Mr. Lawrence had been proposed +and drunk standing, Betty Tabor, flushed, and appearing prettier than +ever, arose. + +"Boys," she said, in her low, steady tones, "I have an important +announcement to make, one which, I believe, will please you almost as +well as the one we just heard did." + +She hesitated and smiled down upon her future husband, who sat beside +her. + +"Boys," she continued, after a moment, "I have consented to permit +Larry to play ball with you next season, if he will allow me to travel +with the team at least one trip." + +Noisy Norton sprang upon his chair, his glass held aloft and cried: + +"To the bride, the groom and another pennant." + + + + +THE END. + + + + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Jimmy Kirkland and the Plot for a +Pennant, by Hugh S. 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Fullerton +</TITLE> + +<STYLE TYPE="text/css"> +BODY { color: Black; + background: White; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-left: 10%; + font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; + text-align: justify } + +P {text-indent: 4% } + +P.noindent {text-indent: 0% } + +P.poem {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%; } + +P.letter {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10% ; + margin-right: 10% } + +P.footnote {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 80%; + margin-left: 10% ; + margin-right: 10% } + +P.finis { font-size: larger ; + text-align: center ; + text-indent: 0% ; + margin-left: 0% ; + margin-right: 0% } + +H4.h4center { margin-left: 0; + margin-right: 0 ; + margin-bottom: .5% ; + margin-top: 0; + float: none ; + clear: both ; + text-align: center } + +IMG.imgcenter { margin-left: auto; + margin-bottom: 0; + margin-top: 1%; + margin-right: auto; } + +</STYLE> + +</HEAD> + +<BODY> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Jimmy Kirkland and the Plot for a Pennant, by +Hugh S. Fullerton + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Jimmy Kirkland and the Plot for a Pennant + +Author: Hugh S. Fullerton + +Illustrator: Charles Paxson Gray + +Release Date: April 18, 2010 [EBook #32044] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK JIMMY KIRKLAND--PLOT FOR PENNANT *** + + + + +Produced by Al Haines + + + + + +</pre> + + +<BR><BR> + +<A NAME="img-cover"></A> +<CENTER> +<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-cover.jpg" ALT="Cover art" BORDER="2" WIDTH="581" HEIGHT="660"> +</CENTER> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="img-front"></A> +<CENTER> +<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-front.jpg" ALT=""Now kick his shins"" BORDER="2" WIDTH="408" HEIGHT="636"> +<H4 CLASS="h4center" STYLE="width: 408px"> +"Now kick his shins" +</H4> +</CENTER> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H1 ALIGN="center"> +JIMMY KIRKLAND +</H1> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +AND THE +</H4> + +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +PLOT FOR A PENNANT +</H2> + +<BR> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +BY +</H4> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +HUGH S. FULLERTON +</H3> + +<BR><BR> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +ILLUSTRATED BY +</H4> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHARLES PAXSON GRAY +</H3> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +PHILADELPHIA +<BR> +THE JOHN C. WINSTON COMPANY +<BR> +PUBLISHERS +</H3> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H5 ALIGN="center"> +Copyright, 1915, by +<BR> +JOHN C. WINSTON COMPANY +<BR><BR> +PRINTED IN U. S. A. +</H5> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +To<BR> +<BR> +CHARLES A. COMISKEY<BR> +<BR> +The man to whom, more than all others, the honesty<BR> +and high standard of professional baseball is<BR> +due, this little volume is dedicated with the sincere<BR> +regard of a student to his preceptor.<BR> +</H3> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +CONTENTS +</H2> + +<TABLE ALIGN="center" WIDTH="80%"> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">CHAPTER</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> </TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">I. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap01">PANTHERS OR BEARS?</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">II. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap02">A MIRACLE CALLED MCCARTHY</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">III. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap03">HOPE FOR THE BEARS</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">IV. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap04">"KOHINOOR" MEETS BETTY</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">V. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap05">THE TEMPTER</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">VI. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap06">ADONIS MAKES A DEAL</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">VII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap07">MCCARTHY MEETS HELEN</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">VIII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap08">IN THE DEEPER WATERS</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">IX. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap09">BALDWIN GETS INTO THE PLOT</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">X. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap10">WILLIAMS CAUGHT IN THE NET</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XI. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap11">MCCARTHY IN DISGRACE</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap12">MCCARTHY DEFIES BALDWIN</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XIII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap13">MCCARTHY BALKS THE PLOTTERS</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XIV. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap14">"TECHNICALITIES" ON THE JOB</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XV. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap15">BALDWIN BAITS A TRAP</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XVI. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap16">MCCARTHY MAKES A CALL</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XVII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap17">THE FIGHT IN THE CAFÉ</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XVIII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap18">TWO MISSING MEN</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XIX. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap19">SWANSON TO THE RESCUE</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XX. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap20">HIDDEN FOES</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXI. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap21">FAIR PLAY</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap22">A VICTORY AND A DEFEAT</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXIII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap23">KIDNAPPED</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXIV. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap24">BAITING A TRAP</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXV. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap25">MCCARTHY DISAPPEARS</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXVI. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap26">BALDWIN SHOWS HIS HAND</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXVII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap27">SEARCHING</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXVIII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap28">WILLIAMS STANDS EXPOSED</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXIX. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap29">FOUND</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXX. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap30">A RACE TO SAVE THE DAY</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXXI. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap31">THE PLOTTERS FOILED</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXXII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap32">REJOICING</A></TD> +</TR> + +</TABLE> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +ILLUSTRATIONS +</H2> + +<H4> +<A HREF="#img-front"> +"NOW KICK HIS SHINS" . . . . . . . . . . . . Frontispiece +</A> +</H4> + +<H4> +<A HREF="#img-137"> +BALDWIN STARED AT THE SLENDER YOUTH +</A> +</H4> + +<H4> +<A HREF="#img-244"> +THE MEN LEAPED OUT +</A> +</H4> + +<H4> +<A HREF="#img-311"> +"FOURTEEN MILES IN TWENTY-ONE MINUTES" +</A> +</H4> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap01"></A> + +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +JIMMY KIRKLAND AND A PLOT FOR A PENNANT +</H2> + +<BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER I +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +<I>Panthers or Bears?</I> +</H4> + +<P> +The defeat in the opening game of the final series of the season +between the Panthers and Bears had been a hard blow to the championship +hopes of the Bears, and its effect was evident in the demeanor of the +players and those associated with them. It was the second week in +September. Since early in May the Blues, the Panthers and the Bears, +conceded to be the three strongest teams in the league, had struggled +day by day almost upon even terms, first one team leading by a narrow +margin, then another, until the interest of the country was centered +upon the battle for supremacy. +</P> + +<P> +Then, with the Blues holding the lead by the narrowest of margins, +Maloney, their premier pitcher, strained his arm, and the Blues, in +despair, battled the harder only to overtax the strength of the +remaining pitchers, so that the team dropped rapidly into third place, +still hoping against hope to get their crippled pitching staff back +into condition for the finish. +</P> + +<P> +It seemed that the four-game series between the Bears and Panthers +probably would prove the crisis of the year's efforts, and decide the +question of supremacy. On the eve of the commencement of that series +the Bear hopes had received a shock. Carson, the heaviest batter, the +speediest base runner and one of the most brilliant outfielders in the +league, had fractured a leg in sliding to a base, and was crippled so +seriously that all hope of his recovery in time to play again that year +was abandoned. +</P> + +<P> +Until the day the news that Carson could not play again during the +season became public, the Bears had been favorites, but with their +hardest batter crippled, and Holleran, the substitute, known to be weak +against curve pitching, their hope seemed destroyed. Manager William +Clancy, of the Bears, his kindly, weather-beaten face wearing a +troubled expression, in place of his customary cheerful grin, was +investigating. The defeat of the Bears in the first game with the +Panthers had revealed to all the vital weakness of the holders of the +championship, and Clancy, as he sat nibbling the end of his penholder +in the writing room of the hotel, faced a discouraging situation. +</P> + +<P> +Across the table from him a slender girl, attired in a close-fitting +street gown, was writing rapidly, covering many sheets of hotel +stationery with tall, angular hieroglyphics as she detailed to her +dearest friend at home the exciting events of the day. +</P> + +<P> +"Betty," said Manager Clancy, looking up, "if you and Ellen are ever +going to get ready you'll have to start." +</P> + +<P> +"I'm ready now, Mr. Clancy," the girl responded brightly, lifting her +head until she revealed the perfect curve of her firm chin, and smiled, +"I left Mother Clancy in the rooms sewing on some buttons. She will be +ready soon." +</P> + +<P> +At that moment a slender youth, easy in movement, almost graceful in +his confident carriage, entered the hotel lobby. Something in his +bearing gave evidence that he was accustomed to association with +persons of refinement. His closely cropped, curling hair, sandy to the +point of redness, attracted attention to his well-formed head, set well +upon a pair of shoulders so wide as to give him the appearance of +strength, in spite of the slenderness of his waist and the lightness of +his body. His face was freckled and the uplift of his nose added to +the friendly impression created by his blue eyes. His clothes were +almost threadbare and his shoes were worn, but his linen was clean and +his appearance neat. The youth hesitated, glancing from group to group +of the players, as if trying to decide which one to approach. +</P> + +<P> +"Silent" Swanson, the giant shortstop, who had earned his nickname +because he was the noisiest player on the field, was standing talking +with "Noisy" Norton, the second baseman, so called because he seldom +spoke either on or off the field, and Adonis Williams, the star +left-handed pitcher of the team. The newcomer's eyes fell upon this +group, and his face lighted as he observed that Williams's hair was +only a shade darker than his own. As if deciding quickly, he walked +toward the group. +</P> + +<P> +"You are Williams, are you not?" he inquired easily, smiling in a +friendly manner. +</P> + +<P> +"That's my name, but most people add a mister to it," responded +Williams sneeringly. +</P> + +<P> +The red-headed youth flushed and the smile died out of his eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"I beg pardon, Mister Williams," he said, quietly; "I was seeking +Manager Clancy. Perhaps you can tell me where to find him?" +</P> + +<P> +"It isn't very hard to find Clancy," responded Williams. "We can't +lose him." +</P> + +<P> +"Perhaps you would be so kind as to point him out to me. I never have +had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Clancy." +</P> + +<P> +Neither of them had observed that Swanson and Norton had drawn aside to +permit the girl who had been in the writing room to pass on her way to +the elevator. Evidently she overheard the youth's inquiry, for she +hesitated just as Williams laughed in an ugly manner and said: +</P> + +<P> +"If you don't know him you'd better peddle yourself somewhere else. He +won't be in a mood to talk to hoboes to-night." +</P> + +<P> +Before the slender youth could speak, the girl stepped forward and said +quietly: +</P> + +<P> +"Pardon me, but I overheard you inquiring for Manager Clancy. He is in +the writing room." +</P> + +<P> +Her brown eyes flashed with anger, her lips were set tight and her +sun-browned cheeks flushed as she passed quickly on toward the +elevator, not waiting to respond to the thanks of the slender youth, +who had removed his hat quickly to utter his gratitude. Then, turning +toward Williams, who stood flushed and angry, his blue eyes narrowed +and he said: +</P> + +<P> +"Just for that, I'll kick you on the shins in the club house and dare +you to fight." +</P> + +<P> +"What? You will, huh?" spluttered the astounded pitcher. +</P> + +<P> +He would have said more, but before he could recover, the newcomer, +smiling oddly, turned and walked toward the writing room and held out +his hand to the famous Clancy, for six years leader of the Bears. +</P> + +<P> +The slender youth stood with extended hand while Manager Clancy gazed +up from his writing. +</P> + +<P> +"Mr. Clancy?" he asked, smiling. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes. Sit down," responded Clancy, his intention of rebuffing the +intruder changing as he saw the smile. "What can I do for you?" +</P> + +<P> +"I read in the evening papers," replied the youth, still smiling +easily, "that Carson broke a leg, and that, to win the pennant, you +must find an outfielder who can hit." +</P> + +<P> +"Perhaps you also read that I'd like to find a diamond about the size +of my head," responded Clancy, sarcastically. +</P> + +<P> +"The paper also said that you might switch Pardridge from third base to +the outfield if you could find a hard-hitting infielder." +</P> + +<P> +"Possibly the paper also said that if I found the diamond I'd move my +gold mine to make room for it." Clancy restrained himself from further +comment, feeling uncertain because of the quiet confidence of his +visitor. +</P> + +<P> +There was a pause, the veteran manager studying his caller and the +slender youth sat smiling as if expecting Clancy to resume the +conversation. +</P> + +<P> +"Well?" said Clancy, glancing at his half-finished letter as if to hint +that his time was entirely too valuable to be wasted discussing +academic impossibilities with entire strangers. +</P> + +<P> +"Well," replied the visitor, smiling, "I'm it." +</P> + +<P> +"You're what?" asked the astonished manager. +</P> + +<P> +"The third baseman who can hit." +</P> + +<P> +"When shall I move the gold mine?" Clancy's voice was dangerously +quiet. +</P> + +<P> +"To-morrow, if you like." +</P> + +<P> +Clancy sat gazing at his visitor as if undecided as to whether he +should explode in wrath, laugh at some joke too deep for him, or +believe the slender youth was in earnest. +</P> + +<P> +"Say, kid," he said slowly after studying the youth for a moment, "I +admire your nerve, anyhow. If you have half the confidence on a ball +field that you have off it, you'll be a wonder. Where did you ever +play ball?" +</P> + +<P> +A troubled expression came over the boy's face. +</P> + +<P> +"Mr. Clancy," he said, quietly, "if you take me you'll have to do it +without asking questions. I can play ball, and it's up to me to make +good at something. All I ask is a chance to prove to you I can play. +It will not cost you a cent to find out." +</P> + +<P> +"Done anything?" Clancy asked, sharply. +</P> + +<P> +"Criminal? No," responded the boy, flushing. +</P> + +<P> +"Ever signed a professional contract?" +</P> + +<P> +"No." +</P> + +<P> +Clancy studied him as if trying to decide what to do. Then, raising +his voice, he called: +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Sec. Come here a minute." +</P> + +<P> +A tall man, his hair gray, his face wearing a frown of perpetual worry, +came from the hotel lobby. +</P> + +<P> +"Mr. Tabor," said Clancy, without rising, "this is Mr. Jimmie McCarthy, +who is to have a try-out with us at third base. Room him with the +players. You aren't stopping anywhere else, are you?" +</P> + +<P> +The last question was directed to the surprised youth. +</P> + +<P> +"No—I'm broke," answered the youth, flushing quickly. +</P> + +<P> +"I'll fix you up in a moment," said the secretary in friendly tones as +he shook hands with the youth. "Wait until I finish settling up with +the baggage man." +</P> + +<P> +The secretary hastened from the room, and the boy turned impulsively to +the manager. +</P> + +<P> +"Mr. Clancy," he said in a tone of gratitude, "I want to thank you—I +don't know how. I was broke—ball playing is about all I'm good at. +How did you know I didn't want to use my own name?" +</P> + +<P> +"I figured you might want to forget it for a time, anyhow," said +Clancy. "McCarthy is a good name and it fits your eyes." +</P> + +<P> +"I can't tell you how grateful I am," said the boy impetuously. "I'll +make good for you. I've failed trying to make a living. Baseball is +the only thing they taught me at college that I'm good at, and when I +read that you needed a third baseman I"—— +</P> + +<P> +"College man, eh?" asked Clancy quickly. "Well, I won't hold that +against you or tip it off. Don't thank me. If you make good I'll be +the one to give thanks." +</P> + +<P> +The youth turned to follow the secretary as if to hide a little mist +that came into his eyes, and he left Manager Clancy gazing thoughtfully +after him and nibbling the end of his penholder. +</P> + +<P> +"It would be a miracle," said Clancy to himself. "But I've got a hunch +it will come true. He's bred right—tell it from his looks. He's +game, light on his feet; good shoulders, and—and—and a pair of eyes." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap02"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER II +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +<I>A Miracle Called McCarthy</I> +</H4> + +<P> +Thirty thousand persons, banked in the great grandstands and massed +upon the field seats, roared with increasing excitement as from every +direction solid streams of humanity poured toward the park to witness +the second game of the series between the Bears and the Panthers. +</P> + +<P> +The batting practice of the teams had ended and the Bears trotted out +upon the field. +</P> + +<P> +"Who is that red-head practicing at third?" inquired "Chucky" Rice, the +veteran reporter of the Panthers. +</P> + +<P> +"Name is McCarthy, a busher Clancy picked up somewhere. He is to have +a trial this fall—after the pennant fight is over," said Koerner, of +the <I>Globe</I>, who traveled with the Bears. +</P> + +<P> +"Looks sweet on ground balls," commented Rice, watching the slender, +graceful athlete, who was occupying Pardridge's place at third base. +"Where did Clancy find him, Tech?" +</P> + +<P> +The question was addressed to "Technicalities" Feehan, the odd little +reporter who had traveled with the Bears for twenty years. +</P> + +<P> +"I have not been informed," responded Feehan, adjusting his glasses and +watching McCarthy closely. "He came to the hotel last night and asked +for a try-out. Did you see him hit?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," replied Rice. "Hits right-handed and he cracked two on the +nose. Will he play?" +</P> + +<P> +"Clancy hardly will take a chance with him at this stage," replied +Koerner. +</P> + +<P> +McCarthy tossed his glove to the veteran third baseman and ran toward +the plate to bat grounders to the infielders. He was not aware of the +fact, but Clancy had been watching him keenly during the entire +practice and had asked Kennedy, the star catcher, to keep an eye on the +recruit and report how he liked his actions. +</P> + +<P> +"Handles himself like a ball player," commented the catcher. "He hit a +curve ball +<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P22"></A>22}</SPAN> +with a snap swing that had a lot of drive in it and he +gets the ball away like a flash when it hits his hands." +</P> + +<P> +"He takes things easily," said the manager. "I haven't seen him fight +a ball yet. Blocks it down and recovers in plenty of time. If this +game didn't mean so much"—— +</P> + +<P> +The game went against the Bears from the start, the break of the luck +seeming always to favor the Panthers. Twice, with runners perched on +second and third, Holleran had hit feeble grounders to the infield, one +resulting in a runner being caught at the home plate and one in an easy +out at first that finished an inning in which the Bears had threatened +to amass a half dozen runs. +</P> + +<P> +The seventh inning started with the Panthers leading 3 to 1, and the +Bears seemingly beaten beyond hope of recovery. An error, followed +quickly by a base on balls and a successful sacrifice bunt put Bear +runners on second and third bases with but one out and Holleran coming +to the bat. Clancy signaled him, and an instant later Umpire Maxwell +announced: +</P> + +<P> +"McCarthy batting for Holleran. McCarthy will play third base, +Pardridge in left field." +</P> + +<P> +McCarthy came to the batter's box quickly, swinging a long, light bat. +He let a fast ball cut across the plate just at his shoulders and only +glanced inquiringly at the umpire when it was called a strike. The +next one was a quick-breaking curve, seemingly coming straight at him. +He stepped slightly forward, snapped the long bat against the ball and +drove it down the left field foul line; two runners sprinted across the +plate, and the score was tied. +</P> + +<P> +"That auburn baby can hit them curves," commented Rice. "He certainly +called the turn and waded into that one." +</P> + +<P> +The game went into the ninth, then the tenth, the pitchers working +harder and harder and the teams batting behind them without a break to +bring the victory that meant so much to them. +</P> + +<P> +Jimmy McCarthy was the first batter for the Bears. From an unknown +recruit he had become the sensation of the game, and thousands were +asking who he was. Twice he had hit Cooke's fast "hook curve," and hit +it hard, and Cooke, remembering, shook his head as his catcher signaled +for another curve. The recruit watched him, and, with a sudden jerk of +his belt, he stepped into position. The first ball was fast and across +his shoulders, as Cooke had placed it twice before. This time instead +of taking the first strike McCarthy met the ball squarely and drove it +on the line over the first baseman's head. He turned first base, going +at top speed, although already McKeever, the Panther's right fielder, +known as one of the greatest throwers in the league, was in position to +field the ball. +</P> + +<P> +The roar that arose from the crowd was chopped short as McCarthy +sprinted for second base. An instant of tense uncertainty was followed +by a swelling murmur of protest, disappointment and rage. +</P> + +<P> +From the dust cloud just commencing to settle around second base two +forms were emerging, and, as the dust drifted away, the crowd had a +glimpse of a tableau. Tommy Meegher, second baseman of the Panthers, +was disentangling his stocky form from the knot of arms and legs, and +arising from the prostrate body of McCarthy, whose desperate slide had +turned a base hit into a two-bagger. Stooping over them, his hands +outspread, signifying that the runner had reached the base in safety, +was Randy Ransom, crouching, in order better to see under the dust +cloud raised by the hurtling bodies of the players. +</P> + +<P> +A salvo of grudging applause greeted McCarthy as he arose and brushed +the dust from his gray striped traveling uniform, an outburst that was +followed by a frenzied spasm of enthusiasm from the Bear followers. +</P> + +<P> +On the Bears' bench Manager Clancy grinned for the first time in three +days. +</P> + +<P> +"I believe that kid will do," he said to Kennedy. "He called the turn +on that fast ball, just met it, and turned first on his stride. He +slid under Meegher clean. Lay one down now," he added, addressing the +order to Norton. +</P> + +<P> +The skill of Noisy Norton as a sacrifice hitter was well known to the +spectators in the stands, but better known to the tense, anxious +infielders of the Panthers, who crouched, watching his every motion as +he came to the batter's position. Norton stepped into position, +shortened his hold upon the bat and glanced quickly around the infield +as if noting the position of each man. Suddenly he started, as if in +surprise, and glanced toward the Bears' bench. Manager Clancy nodded +his head affirmatively and again Norton crouched, shortening his grip +upon the bat still more, and slowly churned the inoffensive air with +it. The Panther infielders, alert to detect the plan of attack to be +tried by the Bears, had caught the rapid exchange of glances, and they +crept a step or two closer to the batter, poising ready to leap forward +to field any ball pushed toward them from Norton's bat. +</P> + +<P> +The plan of assault to be tried seemed clear to the thousands of +spectators. It appeared certain that a sacrifice bunt was to be +attempted; that the third baseman of the Panthers was to pretend to +field the ball, but that, instead, he would return to third base the +moment Norton bunted, permitting Cooke, the pitcher, to try to reach +the ball in time to throw to third to catch McCarthy there instead of +throwing to first to retire Norton. +</P> + +<P> +Cooke pitched fast and straight over the plate, intending to make +Norton push the ball back to him, or into the air for a fly out. +Norton, however, struck viciously, but without making an effort to hit +the ball, swinging his bat in order to handicap the catcher in his +effort to catch the ball and make a throw. McCarthy had started at +full speed the instant Cooke had commenced to wind up to pitch the +ball, and was in full flight toward third base. Before Nixon's throw, +delayed and hampered by Norton's tactics in striking, reached third, +McCarthy slid behind the base, his feet outstretched to hook the bag as +he threw his body outward to prevent Randall, the third baseman, from +exercising his deadly skill in blocking runners away from the base. +</P> + +<P> +A moment later Norton drove a long fly to the outfield, and McCarthy, +waiting until it was caught, sprinted across the plate with what proved +to be the winning run. +</P> + +<P> +"Crossed—and by a busher," lamented Kincaid, of the Panthers, as the +teams started off the field after the finish of the game, walking +slowly because of the press of humanity overflowing from the stands. +</P> + +<P> +"What do you think of that kid, Slats?" inquired Manager Clancy, as +they walked together toward the club house. +</P> + +<P> +"He's a ball player, if he don't swell," responded Hartman, +laconically. "He pulled that steal of third wise. He figured we +wouldn't expect a busher to try to steal at that stage—and we didn't. +He's a wise head for a kid." +</P> + +<P> +"Looks good to me," replied Clancy. "He slipped Norton a signal not to +hit, but to let him steal—and I almost fell off the bench when I saw +it. I expected him to toss the game away." +</P> + +<P> +"Where'd you get him?" demanded Hartman. +</P> + +<P> +"He wished himself onto me," grinned Clancy. "He told me he could play +ball and I believed him." +</P> + +<P> +A swarm of reporters descended upon the headquarters of the visiting +team, striving to discover something of the history of the slender, +red-haired youngster whose coming had revived the waning pennant hopes +of the Bears. McCarthy was not to be found. He had slipped away after +dinner without telling anyone his plans. The reporters descended upon +Manager Clancy, demanding information concerning his find. +</P> + +<P> +"It's a secret, boys," responded Clancy to their insistent questions. +"He is nom de plume and habeas corpus. The only place I ever heard of +him playing ball was in Cognito." +</P> + +<P> +"Suppress the comedy and ease us the legit," pleaded Riley, who wrote +theatricals when he was not inventing English in the interest of +baseball. "I can't find any record that will fit him." +</P> + +<P> +"Boys," said the veteran manager, growing serious, "I don't know a +thing more about him than you do. I don't know where he ever played; +it never was in organized ball, or I would know where he comes from and +who he is. He strolled in here last night, told me he could play ball +and wanted a chance to show me that he could." +</P> + +<P> +"That was considerable demonstration to-day," commented Rice. "How do +you know he's square?" +</P> + +<P> +"By looking at him," replied Clancy steadily. "If I needed any more +evidence, he was offered $500 to sign a Panther contract after to-day's +game and told them he'd stick to me—and we haven't even talked about +salary." +</P> + +<P> +"What'll we call him?" asked one reporter. +</P> + +<P> +"Say," replied Clancy, enthusiastically, "I dreamed last night that I +had found a pot of gold wrapped up in a million-dollar bill, with a +diamond as big as my hand on top of it. Call him Kohinoor." +</P> + +<P> +So Kohinoor McCarthy sprang into fame in a day as the mystery of the +league. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap03"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER III +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +<I>Hope for the Bears</I> +</H4> + +<P> +The Bears were joyous again. They scuffled, joked, laughed and romped +joyously as the team gathered in the railway station to make a hurried +departure for the city of the Pilgrims on the evening after the final +game of the series with the Panthers. Three victories out of four +games played with the Panthers instead of the dreaded three defeats had +lifted the Bears back practically to even terms with their rivals. All +they had hoped for after the injury of Carson was to divide the series +with the Panthers, and it was due to the sudden appearance of Kohinoor +McCarthy that the victories were made possible. +</P> + +<P> +All the notoriety that suddenly was thrust upon McCarthy had failed to +affect him, although Manager Clancy watched his "find" anxiously, and +pleaded with the newspaper men not to spoil him. No trace of the +dreaded affliction known as "swelled head" had revealed itself, and +because McCarthy was able to laugh over the wild stories printed +concerning him, Clancy breathed more easily. +</P> + +<P> +During the celebration McCarthy, who had made it possible, stood apart +from the others, feeling a little lonely. McCarthy stood watching +them, smiling at their antics with a feeling that he was an intruder. +The truth was that the Bears had welcomed him from the start. He had +won their admiration on the field and the undying friendship of Silent +Swanson by his conduct in the club house on the afternoon after the +close of his first game. It was that incident that made for him a chum +and an enemy, who were destined to play a big part in his career. +</P> + +<P> +When the players raced off the field after that victory, striving to +escape being engulfed in the torrent of humanity that poured from the +stands, McCarthy was caught, with a few others, and delayed. When he +reached the club house the substitutes and the reserve pitchers already +were splashing and spluttering under the showers. McCarthy walked to +where Adonis Williams, already stripped to the waist, was preparing to +take his shower, and without a word he kicked the pitcher on the shins, +a mere rap, but administered so as to leave no doubt as to its purpose. +</P> + +<P> +"Here——. What did you do that for?" demanded Williams. +</P> + +<P> +"I told you in the hotel, when you insulted me, that I'd do it. Will +you fight?" +</P> + +<P> +McCarthy's blue eyes had grown narrower, and a colder blue tint came +into them. +</P> + +<P> +"I'll break you in pieces, you —— —— —— you," Williams spluttered +with rage. +</P> + +<P> +"Drop that talk and fight," challenged McCarthy, stepping into a +fighting attitude. +</P> + +<P> +Just then McCarthy received help from an unexpected source. Swanson, +the giant of the team, broke through the circle of players that had +formed in expectation of seeing a fight. +</P> + +<P> +"You're all right, Bo," he roared, throwing his huge arm around the +shoulders of the recruit. "You're perfectly all right, but he won't +fight you." +</P> + +<P> +"I'll smash"—— +</P> + +<P> +"Naw, you won't, Adonis," said the giant, contemptuously. "I think he +can lick you, anyhow, but you had it coming. Now kick his other shin, +and after that Adonis will apologize." +</P> + +<P> +The suggestion raised a laugh, and eased the situation. The battle +light in McCarthy's face changed to a smile. +</P> + +<P> +"I'll forego the kick," he said. "I had to make good after what I told +you in the hotel. I'm perfectly willing to let it drop and be friends." +</P> + +<P> +He extended his hand frankly, but Williams, still scowling, did not +take it. +</P> + +<P> +"Never mind the being friends part of it," he said. "But if you don't +want trouble, just lay away from me after this." +</P> + +<P> +"Here, young fellow," said Clancy, who had arrived at the club house in +time to see the finish of the altercation; "I'll do all the fighting +for this club. Understand?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," replied McCarthy, slowly, without attempting to explain. +</P> + +<P> +"What do you think of my gamecock, Bill?" asked Swanson, +enthusiastically. "Adonis insulted him in the hotel last night and the +kid promised to kick him on the shins. He was just making good. He +offered to shake hands and call it all off, but Adonis wouldn't do it. +He's my roommate from now on. I'll have to take him to keep him from +fighting every one." +</P> + +<P> +The giant's remark caused another laugh, as his record for fights +during his earlier career as a ball player had given him a reputation +which obviated all necessity of fighting. +</P> + +<P> +The majority of the Bears had accepted McCarthy as one of their own +kind after that, and Swanson adopted him. With Swanson he seemed at +home, but the others found him a trifle shy and retiring. He was +friendly with all excepting Williams and Pardridge, who resented his +occupation of third base while pretending to be pleased. Yet with the +exception of Swanson and Kennedy he made no close friends. The +admiration of the rough, big-hearted Swede shortstop for the recruit +approached adoration and he was loud and insistent in voicing his +praises of McCarthy. +</P> + +<P> +The train which was bearing the Bears away from the city of the +Panthers drew slowly out of the great station, plunged through a series +of tunnel-like arches under the streets, and rattled out into the +suburbs, gathering speed for the long night run. Inside the cars the +players were settling themselves for an evening of recreation. Card +games were starting, the chess players were resuming their +six-month-long contest, and McCarthy sought his berth and sat alone, +striving to read. In the berth just ahead of his seat the quartette +commenced to sing. +</P> + +<P> +The Bears possessed a quartette with some musical merit and musical +knowledge. Kennedy, the quiet, big catcher, had a good baritone voice +and it showed training. Norton, who seldom spoke, but always was ready +to sing, led, and Swanson was the bass, his voice deep and organ-like, +making up in power and richness much that it lost in lack of training. +Madden, the tenor, was weak and uncertain yet, as Swanson remarked, "He +can't sing much, but he is a glutton for punishment." +</P> + +<P> +When the quartette started to sing, McCarthy dropped his book and sat +gazing out into the gathering twilight, listening to the strong, +healthy voices. Lights commenced to flash out from the farm houses and +the haze settled in waving curtains over the ponds and the lowlands. +He was lonely, homesick at thought of other voices and other scenes and +the joyousness of his new comrades seemed to depress rather than to +lift his spirits. +</P> + +<P> +Berths were being prepared for the night. Already in several the weary +and the lame were reclining, reading. Others, worn by the strain of +the day's game, were getting ready to draw their curtains. The trainer +and his assistant were passing quietly from berth to berth, working +upon aching arms and bruised muscles, striving to keep their valuable +live stock in condition to continue the struggle. +</P> + +<P> +The quartette sang on and on, regardless of the lack of an audience, +for no one in the car appeared to be listening. They sang tawdry +"popular" songs for the most part, breaking into a ribald ragtime +ditty, followed by a sickly sentimental ballad. +</P> + +<P> +Kennedy's voice, without warning, rose strong and clear almost before +the final chord of the song over which the quartette had been in +travail had died away. Kennedy had a habit, when he wearied of the +songs they sang, of singing alone some song the others did not know; +some quaint old ballad, or oftener a song of higher class. For a +moment the others strove vainly to follow. Then silence fell over them +as Kennedy's voice rose, clearer and stronger, as he sang the old words +of Eileen Aroon. +</P> + +<P> +"Dear were her charms to me." +</P> + +<P> +His voice was pregnant with feeling. +</P> + +<P> +"Dearer her laughter—free." +</P> + +<P> +Kennedy was singing as if to himself, but as he sang a voice, strong +and fresh, like a clear bell striking into the music of chimes, joined +his and sang with him the words: +</P> + +<P> +"Dearer her constancy." +</P> + +<P> +The card players suddenly lost interest in their game, dropped their +hands and turned to see who was singing. Players who had been reading +and those who had been vainly striving to sleep poked their heads +between curtains of the berths, the better to listen. +</P> + +<P> +On and on through the haunting, half-pathetic minors of the old song +the clear, sweet tenor and the strong, well-modulated voice of Kennedy +carried the listeners. McCarthy, leaning toward the window and gazing +out upon the moonlight as if under its spell, sang on in ignorance of +the interest his voice had aroused in the car. +</P> + +<P> +The song ended. For a moment the silence in the car was so complete +that the clicking of the wheels upon the fish plates sounded sharply. +Then Swanson, with a yell, broke the spell. Hurdling the back of the +berth he descended upon the startled McCarthy, who seemed dazed and +bewildered by the outburst and the pattering applause that it started. +</P> + +<P> +"Yeh, Bo," yelled Swanson, giving his diamond war cry. "Yeh, Bo, +you're a bear. Hey, you folks, throw Maddy out of the window and make +room for this red-headed Caruso. Why didn't you tell me you could +sing? The quartette is filled at last!" +</P> + +<P> +Flushed and laughing in his embarrassment, McCarthy was borne up the +aisle and deposited in the place of honor in the quartette. +</P> + +<P> +Suddenly the scuffling and boisterous laughter ceased, and the players +drew aside, apologetically, to make room for an eager, bright-eyed +girl, whose face was flushed with pleasure, but who advanced toward +McCarthy without a trace of embarrassment. McCarthy, glancing at her, +recognized the girl who had directed him to Manager Clancy on the +evening of his first appearance in the Bear camp. +</P> + +<P> +"I was coming to say good-night to father," she said quickly, "and I +heard you sing. I want to thank you." +</P> + +<P> +She extended her hand and smiled. McCarthy stared at her in a +bewilderment. Some memory of long ago stirred within him. He recalled +in a flash where he had seen the face before; the face that had come +into his boyhood at one of its unhappiest hours. He had dreamed of the +face, and the memory of the kind brown eyes, filled with sympathetic +tenderness, never had left him. She was the same girl. He realized +suddenly that he was staring rudely and strove to stammer some reply to +her impulsive thanks. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, I say," he protested. "It was nothing—I wasn't thinking"—— +</P> + +<P> +"You sang it beautifully," she interrupted. +</P> + +<P> +"The song is one of my favorites. I did not know Mr. Kennedy knew it." +</P> + +<P> +"Used to sing it at home," said Kennedy, as if indifferent. +</P> + +<P> +"Thank you," McCarthy stammered, partly recovering his poise. "It is +good of you to like it. I seldom sing at all. The song made me forget +where I was." +</P> + +<P> +"You must sing for us," she said simply. "The boys will make you. I +am certain that after you feel more at home among us you will give us +that pleasure. Good-night—and thank you again." +</P> + +<P> +The girl smiled and McCarthy, stuttering in his effort to reply, +managed to mutter good-night as she passed into the next car. +</P> + +<P> +"It's a pink Kohinoor now," said the relentless Swanson, as he observed +the flushed face of the recruit. "All fussed up, isn't he?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, cut it out," retorted McCarthy, striving to cover his +embarrassment by ball field conversational methods. "A fellow might be +expected to be a little bit embarrassed with a lot of big stiffs like +you standing around and never offering to introduce a fellow." +</P> + +<P> +"I forgot it, Kohinoor," said Kennedy quickly. "I forgot you never had +met her. She is Betty Tabor, Sec's daughter, and one of the best +little women in the world. Even Silent is a gentleman when she is with +the team." +</P> + +<P> +"I'm always a gent, Bo," declared Swanson indignantly. "I took a night +school course in etiquette once. Any one that ain't a gent when she is +around I'll teach to be a gent—and this is the perfessor." +</P> + +<P> +He exhibited a huge, red fist and smote the cushions of the berth with +a convincing thud. +</P> + +<P> +"I'll introduce you properly to-morrow," volunteered Kennedy. "Come on +and get into the quartette. We'll try you out." +</P> + +<P> +McCarthy surrendered more to conceal his agitation than because he felt +like singing. +</P> + +<P> +The quartette sang until the bridge players grew weary of the game and +the tired athletes who preferred sleep to the melody howled +imprecations upon the vocalists. +</P> + +<P> +For a long time after McCarthy climbed into his berth he remained +staring into the darkness, striving to recall the outlines of a face +set with a pair of friendly brown eyes that lighted with a look of +eager appreciation. He remembered the little dimples at the corners of +the mouth, and the wealth of soft, brown hair that framed the oval of +her face. He blushed hotly in the darkness at the thought of his own +rather threadbare raiment, and he decided that he would evade an +introduction until he could secure money from Manager Clancy and +recover the clothes he had left in an express office. +</P> + +<P> +He found himself striving to compare her face with that of another. +</P> + +<P> +"She is not as pretty as Helen is," he told himself. "But it's +different somehow. Helen never seemed to feel anything or to +understand a fellow, and I'm sure Betty—Betty? I wonder if that is +her real name—I'll sing for her as often as she will listen." +</P> + +<P> +And, after a long reviewing of the past that was proving such a mystery +and which the baseball reporters were striving in vain to explore, +McCarthy muttered: "I've made a fool of myself," and turned over and +slept. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap04"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER IV +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +<I>"Kohinoor" Meets Betty</I> +</H4> + +<P> +The train was speeding along through the upper reaches of a beautiful +valley when McCarthy awoke. As he splashed and scraped his face in the +washroom he found himself torn between desire to hasten the +introduction which Kennedy had promised and to avoid meeting the girl. +He glanced down at his worn garments, wondering whether or not the girl +had observed them. He went forward to the dining car with sudden +determination to avoid the introduction. The dining car was crowded, +and the table at which Swanson was eating was filled. McCarthy +stopped, looked around for a vacant seat. There seemed to be only +one—and at that table Miss Betty Tabor was breakfasting with Manager +Clancy and his wife. +</P> + +<P> +"Good morning," said the girl, smiling brightly. "There is a seat +here. My father had to hurry away. Mr. Clancy will introduce us." +</P> + +<P> +Clancy suspended his operations with his ham and eggs long enough to +say: +</P> + +<P> +"Miss Taber, Mr. McCarthy. Kohinoor, this is the old lady." +</P> + +<P> +"I heard Mr. McCarthy sing last night," said the girl, acknowledging +the informal presentation. "He sings well." +</P> + +<P> +"So I should guess," remarked Clancy dryly. "Swanson has been +bellowing his praise of it until everyone on the train thinks we have +grabbed a grand opera star who can hit 400." +</P> + +<P> +McCarthy found himself talking with Miss Taber and Mrs. Clancy and +laughing at the quaint half brogue of the manager's buxom wife as if +they had known each other all their lives. Clancy himself had little +to say. The conversation had drifted to discussion of the country +through which the train was running and McCarthy suddenly ceased +talking. +</P> + +<P> +"I always have loved this part of the valley," said Miss Taber. "When +I was a little girl father brought me on a trip and I remember then +picking out a spot on the hills across the river where, some day, I +wanted to live. I never pass it without feeling the old desire. Have +you been through this country before?" +</P> + +<P> +The question was entirely natural, but McCarthy reddened as he admitted +it was his first trip. +</P> + +<P> +"And what part of the world do you come from?" asked Mrs. Clancy. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm from the West," he responded. "Probably that is why I admire this +green country so much." +</P> + +<P> +"What is your home town?" persisted Mrs. Clancy. +</P> + +<P> +Miss Taber, scenting an embarrassing situation, strove to change the +subject, but Mrs. Clancy refused to be put off. +</P> + +<P> +"Why is it you are ashamed of your home and play under another name, +boy?" she demanded. +</P> + +<P> +"Why do you think my name isn't McCarthy?" he parried. +</P> + +<P> +"The McCarthys aren't a red-headed race," she said, her brogue +broadening. "Ye have Irish in ye, but ye're not Irish. Is baseball +such a disgraceful business ye are ashamed to use your name?" +</P> + +<P> +"Of course not, Mrs. Clancy," he responded indignantly. "It is a good +enough business—but—but—Oh, I can't explain." +</P> + +<P> +"This mystery business is a big drawing card," remarked Manager Clancy, +endeavoring to ease the situation. "They flock to see him because each +one can make up his own story. Let him alone, mother. Don't spoil the +gate receipts." +</P> + +<P> +"Let him alone, is it?" she asked, turning upon her husband. "'Tis for +his own sake I'm speaking. They'll be saying you've done something bad +and wicked and are afraid to use your own name." +</P> + +<P> +"What isn't true cannot hurt anyone," he replied quickly. "I have not +committed any crimes." +</P> + +<P> +"Mother is a good deal right about it," remarked Clancy quietly. "A +baseball player is a public person. The fans are likely to say +anything about a player, and the less they know the more they will +invent." +</P> + +<P> +"I believe Mother Clancy is right," said Miss Taber, seeing that her +effort to turn the conversation had failed. +</P> + +<P> +"But there really isn't anything to tell—anything any one would be +interested in. It's a private matter," protested McCarthy. +</P> + +<P> +"Listen, boy," said the manager's wife. "I've been with the boys these +many years. They are all my boys, even the bad ones, and I don't want +any of them talked about." +</P> + +<P> +"There is nothing to talk about," he contended, irritated by the +persistency of the manager's wife. +</P> + +<P> +"They're already saying things," she responded, leaning forward. +"They're a saying that you've done something crooked—that you've +thrown ball games——" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh," ejaculated Miss Taber. "They wouldn't dare!" +</P> + +<P> +"I'd like to have someone say that to me," McCarthy said, flushing with +anger. +</P> + +<P> +"Hold on, mother," interrupted Clancy. "I'm managing this team——Let +up on him. Where do you hear that kind of talk?" +</P> + +<P> +"I heard it in the stands," she argued earnestly. "They were saying +you knew all about it. If you deny it they'll tell another story and +if you keep quiet they'll think its a confession. Tell them what you +are and where you came from, boy." +</P> + +<P> +Her voice was pleading and her interest in his welfare was too real not +to affect him. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm sorry, Mother Clancy," he said gratefully, unconsciously adopting +the term he had heard Betty Tabor use. "There is nothing I can tell +them—or anyone—now." +</P> + +<P> +"It's sorry I am, Jimmy," she responded sadly. "If it's anything ye +can tell me come to me." +</P> + +<P> +"I see I have another adopted son," remarked Clancy teasingly as he +winked at Miss Tabor. "Ellen mothers them all, as soon as she learns +their first names—even the Swede." +</P> + +<P> +"'Tis proud I'd be to have a son like Sven," she said, defendingly. +</P> + +<P> +The breakfast ended rather quietly and McCarthy returned to his seat in +the players' car dispirited. In his heart he knew that Mrs. Clancy had +spoken the truth. He knew, too, that Betty Tabor held the same opinion +and, somehow, her opinion of him counted more than that of all the +others. +</P> + +<P> +"If I only could explain," he kept thinking. "They have no right to +ask," he argued with himself. "Why do they suspect a man just because +he refuses to tell them all his private affairs?" +</P> + +<P> +McCarthy was settling himself to resume reading when Adonis Williams +came down the aisle and sat down in the other half of the seat. +Williams looked at him patronizingly for an instant, and in a rather +sneering tone said: +</P> + +<P> +"Just a friendly little tip, young fellow. Keep off my preserves and +you'll get along better with this club." +</P> + +<P> +"I don't quite understand you," replied McCarthy, his eyes narrowing +with the anger aroused by the air of superiority assumed by the pitcher. +</P> + +<P> +"I was watching you during breakfast," said Williams. "Don't get it +into your head that because you happened to play a couple of good games +of ball you can run this club and do as you please." +</P> + +<P> +"Hold on a minute," retorted McCarthy, flushing with anger. "If you +have any grievance against me say so. Don't beat around the bush. I +don't know what you are talking about." +</P> + +<P> +"I wanted to tip you off to keep away from the young woman you ate +breakfast with." +</P> + +<P> +McCarthy's eyes flashed angrily, and he started to rise, but controlled +himself with an effort. +</P> + +<P> +"Only muckers discuss such things," he said, coldly. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, we're going to discuss it," retorted Williams, who rapidly was +working himself into a rage. "That young lady is going to be my wife, +and I don't care to have her associating with every hobo ball player +that joins the team." +</P> + +<P> +McCarthy clenched his fists and started to his feet, but gritted his +teeth and kept control of his temper. "You're to be congratulated—if +it is true," he said slowly, his tone an insult. "Men cannot fight +over a woman and not have her name dragged into it. Drop that part of +it and to-night I'll insult you and give you a chance to fight." +</P> + +<P> +"Any time you please," replied Williams, rather taken aback. "I think +you're yellow and won't dare fight." +</P> + +<P> +He swaggered down the aisle, leaving McCarthy angry, helpless and +raging. He was boiling with inward anger when Swanson slid down into +the seat with him as the train entered the suburbs of the Pilgrim City. +</P> + +<P> +"Smatter, Bo?" asked Swanson, quickly observing that something was +wrong. "I saw Williams talking with you. Has he been trying to bluff +you? Don't mind him. He has been as sore as a Charley horse ever +since you joined the team, and he won't overlook a chance to start +trouble." +</P> + +<P> +"He has started it all right," replied McCarthy, savagely. "We're +going to fight to-night and I'll"—— +</P> + +<P> +"Steady, Bo, steady," warned Swanson, dropping his voice. "That's his +game, is it? He won't fight any one. He heard Clancy warn you not to +fight and he is trying to get you in bad. I know his way." +</P> + +<P> +"I told him I'd fight," responded McCarthy, worriedly. "Now I'll have +to. I don't know anything I'd enjoy better." +</P> + +<P> +"I'd like to second you and make you do it," responded the giant. "But +it would be playing into his hands if you punched him. Leave him to +me. I'll fix his clock." +</P> + +<P> +Swanson's methods were all his own. The repairing of Williams's +timepiece took place in the big auto 'bus that carried the players from +the train to their hotel. Swanson, wise with long experience in such +matters, secured a seat across the 'bus from Williams, and when the +vehicle rolled onto smoother streets he addressed the pitcher. +</P> + +<P> +"Hey, Adonis," he said in tones Manager Clancy could not fail to hear, +"trying to take out your grouch on Kohinoor, eh? You lay off him or +count me in on anything that comes off." +</P> + +<P> +"That sneak been tattling and crying for help, eh?" sneered Williams. +"I wasn't going to hurt him." +</P> + +<P> +"You're right, you're not," retorted Swanson. "He didn't tell me. I +saw you trying to start something with him, and I've seen you do it to +too many other kids not to know what you were up to." +</P> + +<P> +"Who's talking fight?" demanded Clancy sharply, turning to scan the +players until his eyes rested upon Williams's flushed and angry face. +</P> + +<P> +"Nobody is going to fight," said Swanson easily. "Adonis has been +trying to bully Kohinoor and stir him up. I guess he thought he could +put over his bluff because you told Kohinoor not to fight." +</P> + +<P> +"Adonis, you cut that stuff out or I'll take a hand in it myself," said +Clancy, whose ability and willingness to fight had earned him a +reputation during his playing days. "You've had a grouch for a week or +more. As for you, Kohinoor, don't think you can fight your way through +this league. The first thing you have to do is to learn to stand +punishment and keep your temper." +</P> + +<P> +"No fresh prison pup can swell up and try to cut into my affairs," +muttered Williams, sullen under the rebuke. +</P> + +<P> +McCarthy sprang up to avenge the fresh insult, but before he could act +or speak he was forestalled. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh," said Clancy sharply. "So you're the fellow who has been making +that kind of talk? I've been trying to find out where it came from. +One more bit of that kind of conversation will cost you a bunch of +salary." +</P> + +<P> +"I've heard it everywhere," muttered Williams, taken aback by the +sudden defense of the recruit by the manager. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, don't hear any more of it," snapped Clancy, and McCarthy, +feeling he had emerged with the honors, discretely maintained silence. +</P> + +<P> +"What started Adonis after you this morning?" asked Swanson, as he +hurled garments around the room and wrought disaster to the order of +his trunk as he hunted pajamas. +</P> + +<P> +"Guess he was just trying to start something," responded McCarthy, +still reading. +</P> + +<P> +"Girl?" inquired Swanson. +</P> + +<P> +"What makes you think that?" +</P> + +<P> +"He was mad when he saw you at breakfast with Betty. He's jealous of +everyone who talks to her." +</P> + +<P> +"She's a dandy girl," said McCarthy, generously. "I don't much blame a +fellow for being jealous when he is engaged to a girl like that." +</P> + +<P> +"Engaged to Betty Tabor? That stiff?" ejaculated Swanson. "Say, did +he spring a line of talk like that on you? Why, he has been crazy +about her for three years, but she knows what he is, and she won't talk +to him any more than to be polite." +</P> + +<P> +"I thought it was odd," commented McCarthy, his heart becoming +strangely lighter. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't make any mistake, though," added Swanson earnestly, as he turned +out the lights. "You've stirred up a bad enemy. He won't fight you +openly; but keep an eye on him." +</P> + +<P> +Swanson's warning fell upon deaf ears. McCarthy's attack of blues was +cured, and he fell asleep to the music of street car wheels that seemed +to say: "She isn't engaged, she isn't engaged," as they rolled past the +hotel. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap05"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER V +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +<I>The Tempter</I> +</H4> + +<P> +The Bears were coming into their hotel after the first game of the +series with the Pilgrims. The throng in the lobby pressed forward, +forming a lane through which they were compelled to run the gauntlet of +curious and admiring eyes. Easy Ed Edwards was smiling sardonically as +he noted the little display of hero-worship, and he watched the +procession of battle-stained athletes until Adonis Williams entered. +The handsome, arrogant pitcher was laughing as he strutted for the +benefit of the onlookers, but, as his eyes met the cold, steady gaze of +the gambler, his laugh gave way to a look of alarm. Edwards nodded +coldly and motioned with his head for the player to come to him. +Williams crossed the lobby to the cigar stand and held out his hand. +Edwards did not seem to observe the extended hand, but turned coldly to +the case and said: +</P> + +<P> +"Have a cigar?" +</P> + +<P> +"Thanks," said Williams, nervously. "What brings you out here, Ed?" +</P> + +<P> +"Business," replied the gambler chillingly. "Business concerning +you—and others. Come to my room to-night." +</P> + +<P> +"Can't—I was going out. Had an engagement," Williams faltered, as he +dropped his eyes to avoid meeting those of Edwards. +</P> + +<P> +"I want you in my room to-night," said Edwards coldly, ignoring the +refusal. +</P> + +<P> +"You seem to think you have a mortgage on my life," said Williams, +angered by the tone and manner of the gambler. +</P> + +<P> +"Well—on your baseball life, I have," responded the gambler without +changing a muscle of his face. +</P> + +<P> +The pitcher started to flare into anger, then paled and his eyes +dropped under the gambler's steady gaze. +</P> + +<P> +"Well," he said, uncertainly, "I've got to dress, I'll see you later." +</P> + +<P> +"Better drop in early. You'll probably pitch to-morrow and you must +keep in condition." Edwards' tone was ironic as he added for the +benefit of the clerk who was handing him his change: "The race is +getting warm and you can't be too careful of your condition." +</P> + +<P> +What happened in the gambler's room that evening was never known to any +save the two who were present, but shortly after 11 o'clock Williams +came downstairs white and shaking with passion, and went in to the bar. +He emerged nearly an hour later, flushed and unsteady, just in time to +encounter Manager Clancy, his wife, Miss Taber and McCarthy, chatting +and laughing as the men bade the women good-night at the elevators. +Clancy, catching sight of him, remarked: +</P> + +<P> +"Hello, Adonis. Better hit the hay. You work to-morrow." +</P> + +<P> +Williams turned away and said: "All right." But when the manager and +McCarthy entered the elevator Williams returned to the barroom, and +when, at 1 o'clock, the bar closed, he went unsteadily to his room, +after informing the bartender that he was the best pitcher in the world. +</P> + +<P> +The Bears faced the Pilgrims for the third game of the series before a +huge Saturday crowd, attracted by the announcement that Puckett, the +star pitcher of the Pilgrims would pitch against Adonis Williams. The +teams battled brilliantly for three innings, although Williams was wild +and unsteady. Twice sharp work by the infielders prevented the +Pilgrims from scoring, and when the fourth inning commenced the crowd +was cheering the Pilgrims wildly and encouraging them to drag down the +Bears from their proud position at the head of the-league. Manager +Clancy, crouching forward near the players' bench, was watching +Williams closely, and every few moments his worried frown and quick +gesture showed that he was not pleased with the manner in which his +best left-hander was working. Between innings the manager talked in +low tones with Kennedy, who was catching, seeking to discover why +Williams seemed wild and what was the matter with his curve ball. +</P> + +<P> +"Get out there and warm up a bit, Will," said Clancy to Wilcox, his +reliable veteran. "They're likely to get after Adonis any minute." +</P> + +<P> +To those in the stands it seemed as if Williams was pitching just as +well as was his rival, but both teams knew that he was not in his best +form, and that it was luck and fast fielding, rather than good +pitching, that was saving him from being batted hard. The Pilgrims +attacked him in each inning with confidence born of the certainty that +sooner or later their hard drives would begin to fall in safe ground, +while the Bears played the harder to prevent the start of a rally. +</P> + +<P> +The break came in the sixth inning. A base on balls to the first +batter gave the Pilgrims the opening for which they had been waiting +and they rushed to the assault like soldiers upon a breached wall. +Douglass, the next batter, hit a line single to right so hard that the +runner going from first was compelled to stop at second. Instead of +delaying and steadying himself while planning a system of defense, +Williams commenced pitching as rapidly as he could get the ball away +from his hand. Almost before the batter was in position he pitched a +fast ball straight over the plate and the batter bunted down toward +shortstop. McCarthy was racing upon the ball, ready to scoop it in +perfect position for a throw. Williams attempted to field the ball +which either McCarthy or Swanson could have handled. Williams touched +the ball with his groping fingers just before McCarthy, stooping and +going at full speed, scooped it and tried to snap it to second base. +The ball left his hand just as he crashed with terrific force into +Williams. Both men reeled and went down, stunned and dazed. The ball +flew wild and rolled on into right field. One Pilgrim progressed to +the plate. Douglass, who had been on first, dived safely to third, +while only Swanson's fast recovery drove the batter back to first. +</P> + +<P> +Williams arose, hurt and furious, and while McCarthy was striving to +struggle to his feet the pitcher aimed a vicious blow at his head. +Swanson's arm was interposed just in time to stop the blow, and before +Williams could strike again players of both teams and the umpires +rushed in and prevented further hostilities. The shaken and bruised +players recovered and resumed play in a short time, and another safe +hit and an out sent two more of the Pilgrims scurrying across the +plate. Against the three run lead caused by the mix-up between the +pitcher and third baseman the Bears fought desperately. Puckett was +pitching one of his cleverest, most studious games and, although the +Bears strove again and again to start a counter rally, he held them +helpless and the Pilgrims won the game 3 to 1. +</P> + +<P> +A sore and disappointed team crowded into the big auto 'bus after the +game. They were depressed and silent, for the Panthers had won and the +teams again practically were tied for the lead of the championship +race. This knowledge that they had thrown away a game to a second +division team which they expected to beat four times was bad enough, +but that the Pilgrims should have won from Williams for the first time +in two seasons made the dose more bitter. No word of blame for any one +was uttered. But McCarthy, bruised and nursing a cut on his forehead, +grieved and refused to be comforted. +</P> + +<P> +"That was a great play you tried to make, Kohinoor," remarked Manager +Clancy just before the 'bus reached the hotel. "I like to see a player +try to get the runners nearest home. If you had forced that fellow at +second, as you tried to do when Adonis cut into the play, the next hit +never would have got through the infield, and the chances are we'd have +had a double play and won the game." +</P> + +<P> +These were the first words of praise Manager Clancy ever had said to +him, and he felt better. +</P> + +<P> +The players had been invited to attend a performance at a theater that +evening. After dinner they were grouped around the lobby of the hotel, +when Edwards strolled through, going toward the desk. Manager Clancy +glanced at him in surprise and a worried look came over his face. +</P> + +<P> +"I wonder what that crook is doing out here?" he remarked to a group of +players. "You fellows keep away from him. It's worth a player's +reputation for honesty to be seen with him." +</P> + +<P> +As Edwards turned from the desk he glanced quickly at Williams, caught +his eye and beckoned slightly with his head. Williams suddenly pleaded +that he was too weary to attend the performance and remained in the +hotel, declaring his intention of retiring early. As soon as Manager +Clancy, escorting the women of the party, left the hotel, Williams +ascended to Edwards' room. +</P> + +<P> +"See here, Ed," he said, "you're putting me in a dickens of a hole. +Clancy is sore on you. He said he would fine any player who talked to +you. I was afraid he'd see you tip me to come up. If he gets on I'll +lose a bunch of salary. I had to sneak to come up here." +</P> + +<P> +"I wanted to talk to you," replied the gambler. "I told you last night +that the Panthers must win this pennant. I stand to lose close to +$80,000 if they don't. Of course they may beat you, but I want to make +it a sure thing and clean up on it." +</P> + +<P> +"You ought to be feeling better about it to-day," said the pitcher, in +an aggrieved tone. "We lost to a dub club with me pitching. What more +do you want?" +</P> + +<P> +"It wasn't your fault that you lost," retorted the gambler coldly. +"You tried hard to win it and you might have won if you had kept away +from that bunted ball." +</P> + +<P> +"I'd have thrown him out at first easily if that four-flush third +baseman hadn't bumped me," snapped Williams, his pride hurt. +</P> + +<P> +"Sure you would," sneered the gambler. "You'd have thrown me out of +about $160,000 just to have a better average. You had a chance to lose +that game without any trouble and you're sore because you did lose it." +</P> + +<P> +"Why shouldn't I be?" demanded Williams. "If we win my part of the +world's series money will be close to $4,000—enough to settle what I +owe you and pay my bills." +</P> + +<P> +"Now look here, Williams," said the gambler, laying aside his cigar and +leaning forward across the table. "You stand to win just enough to pay +your debts and you'll be broke all winter, without a sou to show for a +year's work. If the Bears lose I'll cancel all you owe me and make you +a present of as much as the winning players get out of the world's +series. You get me?" +</P> + +<P> +"Why, you d—d crook." Williams leaped from his seat threateningly. +"You want me to throw the championship?" +</P> + +<P> +"Sit down, you fool," snarled the gambler, viciously. "Do you want me +to let Clancy know who tipped it off that Carson's leg was broken? Do +you want me to tell him you got $500 for tipping it to that Panther +bunch of gamblers?" +</P> + +<P> +"Now listen to sense," continued Edwards, more quickly, "you saw to-day +how easily you can lose a game and blame the other fellow. You can use +your head and get rich instead of being in debt. If you don't like +McCarthy, all you have to do is to make him lose games for you. The +papers will yell, 'Hard luck,' you'll get money and I'll clean up a +fortune." +</P> + +<P> +"You can't make a crook of me," whined Williams. "Wanting me to throw +down a bunch of good fellows"—— +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, shut up. You make me sick," sneered the gambler. "All you have +to do is to make a sure thing out of a doubtful one. You'll be +protecting yourself and getting even with a fellow you hate." +</P> + +<P> +"I won't do it." Williams was at bay and defiant. +</P> + +<P> +"All right," said Edwards sharply, "then to-morrow Clancy will get some +news that will start something." +</P> + +<P> +"Aw, say, Ed, you wouldn't cross a fellow like that?" whined Williams. +</P> + +<P> +"Wouldn't I? Perhaps you think I'll let go of all that money and not +fight? I'm starting home to-morrow. I won't see you any more. I am +depending on you to deliver—or I'll protect myself." +</P> + +<P> +"I won't do it." Williams was desperately defiant. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes you will—when you think it over," Edwards replied easily. "Let's +have a drink." He rang the bell and smoked in silence while Williams +sat sullenly defiant. +</P> + +<P> +"I tell you I wouldn't do it for all the money in the game," declared +the pitcher. +</P> + +<P> +"Here comes the boy," said the gambler. "I'll watch the score of the +next game you pitch to see what you do." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap06"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER VI +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +<I>Adonis Makes a Deal</I> +</H4> + +<P> +The after theater crowd was trooping into the lobby of the hotel in +laughing, chattering groups and drifting steadily toward the café, in +which already gay parties were gathered at the tables. Manager Clancy +and his wife, with Secretary Taber and his daughter, came together and +they stood undecided, the men urging that they go to the restaurant for +a lunch before retiring, and Miss Taber, laughing, declaring that too +much pleasure in one day was bad for them. At that moment Williams, a +little flushed, swaggered across the lobby, and, lifting his hat, +advanced toward the group. The girl smiled pleasantly in response to +his greeting, but as he spoke again she stiffened indignantly and +retired a step involuntarily, as she saw he had been drinking. +</P> + +<P> +"So you prefer that red-headed prison bird to me?" he asked in sneering +tones. +</P> + +<P> +Betty Tabor flushed, then turned pale and facing the handsome, half +drunken fellow, she gazed at him steadily until, in spite of his +swaggering attitude, he grew uneasy and dropped his eyes. Then she +spoke. She spoke just one word, vibrant with all the scorn and anger +in her being. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes." +</P> + +<P> +Without a glance at him she turned and stepped into the waiting car, +leaving Williams staring blankly in the elevator well. The cold scorn +of the girl's single word had stung him more deeply than a volume of +rebuke would have done. Half maddened by jealousy and drink he turned +to cross the lobby, forgetting to replace his hat, and Clancy, whose +attention had been attracted by the pitcher's pursuit of the girl, +grasped him by the shoulder and said sternly: +</P> + +<P> +"Williams, if you take another drink to-night it will cost you a +month's pay." +</P> + +<P> +The manager turned to rejoin his wife, and Williams, seething with what +he considered a double dose of injustice, walked unsteadily across the +lobby. He sat down and meditated over his wrongs. He thought of +Edwards and his offer and rising quickly he walked to the telegraph +office and wrote a message, for which he paid as he handed it to the +night operator. Clancy, who had been talking with friends, was waiting +for an elevator and saw his pitcher writing the message. His forehead +knitted into a worried frown as he turned and slowly walked toward the +elevator again, whistling, as was his habit when he was seriously +disturbed. Clancy determined to watch his left-hander. He did not +speak of the matter to anyone, having decided to await developments. +He watched Williams closely during the remaining games against the +Pilgrims, which the Bears won easily, and during the trip to the city +of the Maroons, where Williams was to pitch the opening game of the +series. +</P> + +<P> +The Bears and Panthers were fighting upon an unchanged basis, only a +fraction of a game separating them in the league standing. With but +eighteen more games remaining on the schedule for the Bears, and +nineteen for the Panthers, the race was becoming more desperate each +day and the nervous strain was commencing to tell upon some of the men. +Clancy was nursing his players, knowing that one disheartening defeat +might mean a break that would lead to a succession of downfalls. The +more he watched Williams the stronger his conviction that something was +amiss. Williams was not acting naturally and his demeanor when with +the other players was a puzzle to Clancy. +</P> + +<P> +He selected Williams as the pitcher in the first game against the +Maroons with the purpose, being determined to find whether or not the +pitcher was in condition, and he sent Wilcox, his best right-handed +pitcher, out to warm up so as to be ready to rescue Williams at the +first sign of distress. +</P> + +<P> +"What's the matter with Adonis?" inquired Manager Clancy, as his +catcher and principal adviser returned to the bench after the second +inning. +</P> + +<P> +"His curve is breaking slow and low and on the inside corner of the +plate to the right-handers," replied Kennedy. "I can't make him keep +it high and out." +</P> + +<P> +"Make him use his fast one or he'll get Kohinoor killed with one of +those line smashes," ordered Clancy quietly. "Watch him closely, and +if he is loafing, signal me." +</P> + +<P> +The third inning and the fourth reeled away without a score, and in the +first half of the fifth a base on balls, a steal by Norton and a +crashing drive by Pardridge gave the Bears a score and the lead. +Caton, one of the heaviest hitters of the Maroons, started their half +of the inning, and as he stepped into position Kennedy crouched and +signaled. Williams shook his head quickly and pitched a curve that +broke on the inside corner of the plate. Caton drove the ball with +terrific force straight at McCarthy, who managed to knock it down and +hold the batter to one base. The next batter sacrificed, and Ellis, a +right-handed slugger, came to bat. Again Kennedy signaled for a fast +sidearm ball, pitched high, and again Williams shook his head and +curved one over the plate. Ellis struck the ball with one hand and +sent a carroming down to Swanson, who failed in a desperate effort to +throw out the runner. With men on first and third the Bears' first and +third baseman came close to the plate to cut off the runner, while the +shortstop and second baseman remained in position to make a double play +or to catch the runner stealing. Burley, the giant first baseman of +the Maroons, was at bat, a man noted for his ability to hit any ball +pitched close to him. Williams sent a strike whizzing over the plate. +Again the catcher ordered a fast ball, and he pitched a curve that +Burley fouled off for the second strike. Kennedy, perplexed and +anxious, ran down to consult with the pitcher. Williams sullenly +assented to the order to pitch high and out and waste two balls. +Instead, he threw a curve, low, close to the batter's knees and barely +twisting. Before Kennedy's cry of anger rose the bat crashed against +the ball, which flashed down the third-base line, struck McCarthy on +the arm, then on the jaw, and he went down like a poled ox, the ball +carroming away toward the stand. Before it was recovered one Maroon +had scored and the others were perched on second and third. +</P> + +<P> +Time was called and players rushed to assist the injured third baseman. +Kennedy threw off his mask and ran to the bench. +</P> + +<P> +"I signaled him and told him to pitch fast and waste two," he said to +Manager Clancy. "He nodded that he would and then crossed me and +lobbed up an easy curve inside the plate." +</P> + +<P> +"Don't say a word," cautioned Clancy, as McCarthy, still dazed, but +recovering, was helped to his feet. "Keep ordering him to pitch fast +and outside. Signal me if he disobeys again." +</P> + +<P> +McCarthy got onto his feet unsteadily, while the trainer worked with +his numb and aching arm. He winced with pain as he tried to throw to +see how badly his arm was damaged. While he was walking slowly back to +the bag, testing his arm anxiously, McCarthy had the second shock. The +cheering in the stands drew his attention, and as he glanced toward the +crowd he saw a girl. She was sitting in one of the field boxes between +two men and she was staring straight at him. McCarthy lifted his cap, +as if acknowledging the tribute to the crowd, but really in salutation +to the girl, who flushed angrily. A wave of resentment stirred +McCarthy. He strove to think that she had failed to recognize him, yet +feeling that the cut was deliberate. +</P> + +<P> +Play had been resumed, but McCarthy's mind was not upon it. A sharp +yell from Swanson aroused him from his reverie just in time to see a +slow, easy bounding ball coming toward him. He leaped forward, fumbled +the ball an instant, recovered and threw wild. Two runners dashed +home, the batter reached second. McCarthy was thoroughly unnerved. A +few moments later he permitted an easy fly ball to fall safe in left +field without touching it. His errors gave the Maroons two more +scores, and, although the Bears rallied desperately late in the game, +it was too late, and they were beaten 5 to 3. +</P> + +<P> +A sullen crowd of players climbed into their 'bus under punishment of +the jeers of the crowd that gathered to see them start back to their +hotel. McCarthy, with his shoulder and head aching, but with his heart +aching worse, sat with his chin drawn down into the upturned collar of +his sweater, refusing to be comforted. The Bears were in second place, +half a game behind the Panthers, and he, McCarthy, had lost the game. +Williams was smiling as if pleased and McCarthy blazed with anger. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap07"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER VII +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +<I>McCarthy Meets Helen</I> +</H4> + +<P> +"Come to the hotel parlor at eight this evening. I wish to see you." +</P> + +<P> +The note, hastily scribbled on hotel letter paper, was awaiting him +when Kohinoor McCarthy entered the hotel after the disastrous game. He +recognized the angular scrawled writing at a glance. Since the moment +his eyes had met those of Helen Baldwin during the game he had been +thinking hard. Her behavior had hurt him and the thought that she +deliberately had refused to recognize him stung his pride. The note +proved she had recognized him on the field. Either she was ashamed of +his profession or did not want the men with her to know that she knew +him. +</P> + +<P> +McCarthy ate a hurried dinner and paced the lobby of the hotel. He was +anxious to meet the girl, yet he felt a dread of it, an uncertainty as +to the grounds on which their acquaintanceship should be resumed. For +nearly half an hour he waited, growing more impatient with every minute +and wondering whether there had been a mistake. His mind was busy +framing a form of greeting. When last they met it had been as +affianced lovers. Now—— A rustle of soft garments brought him to +his feet and he stepped forward with outstretched hand to meet the +tall, slender girl who came leisurely from the hallway. Her mass of +light, fair hair framed a face of perfect smoothness. +</P> + +<P> +"Helen," he exclaimed quickly, "this is a pleasant surprise." +</P> + +<P> +"I wish to talk with you, Larry," she replied without warmth, as she +extended a limp hand, sparkling with jewels. +</P> + +<P> +"It is good to see you, Helen," he exclaimed, a bit crestfallen because +of her manner. "What brings you East? I was nearly bowled over when I +saw you to-day. I thought you did not know me, but I see you did." +</P> + +<P> +"Surely you did not expect me to bow to you there," she responded. +"Did you desire all those people to know that I had acquaintances in +that—that class?" +</P> + +<P> +"Then you chose to cut me deliberately?" he asked. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't be foolish, Larry," she replied. "A girl must think of herself +and I did not choose to have my companions learn that I was acquainted +with persons in that—profession, do you call it?" +</P> + +<P> +"Well, if you are ashamed of my profession"—he said hotly. +</P> + +<P> +"Nonsense," she interrupted him. "I simply did not desire to have +people see me speak to a person who earns his living sliding around in +the dirt on his face. That is what I wanted to see you about. What +new prank is this? Are you seeking notoriety?" +</P> + +<P> +"I am earning my living," he said. "Baseball is the only thing I could +do well enough to make money." +</P> + +<P> +"Earn your living?" The girl's surprise was sincere. "You haven't +broken with your Uncle Jim, have you?" +</P> + +<P> +The girl's eyes grew wider with surprise, and her tone indicated +consternation. +</P> + +<P> +"I have—or, rather, he has—cut me off," the boy explained rather +sullenly. "I tried to find a job—thought it would be easy here in the +East, but no one wanted my particular brand of ability, and I tried +something I knew I could do." +</P> + +<P> +"Then you—then your uncle"—the girl's consternation was real, and she +hesitated. "Then our engagement"—— +</P> + +<P> +"I thought that was broken before I left," he replied. "You said you +wouldn't marry me at all if I told Uncle Jim." +</P> + +<P> +"I thought you would be sensible," she argued. "Everyone at home +thinks you are sulking somewhere in Europe because of a quarrel with +me. Why didn't you write to me?" +</P> + +<P> +"After our last interview it did not seem necessary," he said. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Larry," the girl said, pouting, "you've spoiled it for both of us. +If you had done as I wanted you to do everything would have been happy, +and now you humiliate me and all your friends by earning your living +playing with a lot of roughs." +</P> + +<P> +"They're a pretty decent lot of fellows," he responded indignantly. +</P> + +<P> +"Why did you do it?" she demanded, on the verge of tears from +disappointment and annoyance. +</P> + +<P> +"I quarreled with Uncle Jim," he admitted. "I told him I wanted to +marry you, and he told me that if I continued to see you he'd cut me +off." +</P> + +<P> +"And you lost your temper and left?" she concluded. +</P> + +<P> +"Just about that," he confessed. "He told me I was dependent upon him, +and said I'd starve if I had to make my own living. Of course, I could +not stand that"—— +</P> + +<P> +"Of course," she interjected stormily. "I told you that he hated all +our family, but that if we were married he would forgive you." +</P> + +<P> +"I couldn't cheat him that way," he replied with some heat. "Besides +you had broken with me. I knew he hated your uncle—but I thought if +he knew you"—— +</P> + +<P> +"He would have," she said, "if you had given him a chance." +</P> + +<P> +"I told him I could make my living—a living for both if you would have +me," he confessed. +</P> + +<P> +"Playing ball?" Her tone was bitter. "And you had an idea you would +come East and make your fortune and come back and claim me?" +</P> + +<P> +"I did have some such idea when I left," he confessed. "It wasn't +until I was broke and unable to find work that I realized how hopeless +it was to think of you." +</P> + +<P> +"I couldn't bear being poor, Larry," the girl spoke with some feeling. +</P> + +<P> +"We were poor once. Be sensible. Go back home and make up with Mr. +Lawrence—and when I return"—— +</P> + +<P> +"I am making a good salary," he said steadily. "I can support two. If +you care enough"—— +</P> + +<P> +"I couldn't marry a mere ball player," she said, shrugging with disdain. +</P> + +<P> +"You used to like it when I played at the ranch and at college," he +retorted angrily. +</P> + +<P> +"That was different," she argued. "There you were a hero—but here you +are a mere professional." +</P> + +<P> +"But you attend games," he protested. +</P> + +<P> +"I had to to-day. I am on my way to visit Uncle Barney for the summer, +and his friend insisted upon taking us to the game." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, see here, Helen," he protested. "He's your uncle, but everyone +knows he is crooked in politics and in business. Why do you accept his +money?" +</P> + +<P> +"He is very good to me—and I cannot bear to be poor again." +</P> + +<P> +"Then you will not"—— +</P> + +<P> +"Be reasonable, Larry," she interrupted. '"You know I cannot marry a +poor man." +</P> + +<P> +"Then it was only the money you cared for," he said bitterly. "Uncle +Jim said it was, and I quarreled with him for saying it—and it was +true." +</P> + +<P> +"You put it coarsely," she said coldly. "You cannot expect me to give +up the luxuries Uncle Barney provides for me and marry a ball player. +Unless you make it up with your uncle I shall consider myself free." +</P> + +<P> +A stifled exclamation, like a gasp of surprise, startled them, and a +rustle of retreating garments in the adjoining parlor caused McCarthy +to step quickly to the doorway. He was just in time to recognize the +gown. He realized that Betty Tabor had overheard part of the +conversation, and he wondered how much. +</P> + +<P> +"Some eavesdropper, I suppose," Miss Baldwin remarked carelessly. +</P> + +<P> +"She came by accident, probably to read, and departed as soon as she +realized it was a private conversation," he said warmly. +</P> + +<P> +"Then you know her?" she asked quickly. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," he replied, realizing he had betrayed undue interest in the +defense. +</P> + +<P> +"Who is she?" the girl demanded. +</P> + +<P> +"One of the women with the team, daughter of the secretary," he +explained, striving to appear unconcerned. +</P> + +<P> +"Is she pretty?" +</P> + +<P> +"Why—yes—I don't know. She is very pleasant and nice looking." +</P> + +<P> +"Rather odd, isn't it, a woman traveling with a lot of tough ball +players?" +</P> + +<P> +"You are unjust," he exclaimed indignantly. "She is with her father +and Mrs. Clancy. Besides, the ball players are not tough—at least +none of them is while she is with the club." +</P> + +<P> +"You seem ready to rush to her defense," she remarked with jealous +accents. +</P> + +<P> +"Of course, I cannot let you think she is not a nice girl." +</P> + +<P> +"Of course not"——her tone was sarcastic. "Traveling around the +country with a crowd of men and eavesdropping in hotel parlors." +</P> + +<P> +"She would not do such a thing. You must not speak of her in that +way," he stormed indignantly. +</P> + +<P> +"I congratulate her upon having captured so gallant a champion," she +mocked. +</P> + +<P> +They were verging upon a sharper clash of words when a big man, heavy +of jaw and red of face, strolled into the parlor, not taking the +trouble to remove his hat. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, here you are, Helen," he said. "I've been looking everywhere. +Time to start or we'll be late to bridge." +</P> + +<P> +"Uncle Barney," said the girl, rising, "this is Mr.—oh, I forget. +What is it you call yourself now?—McCarthy. I knew him when he was at +college. He plays on some baseball team—one of those we saw to-day. +Mr. McCarthy, this is my uncle, Mr. Baldwin." +</P> + +<P> +"I have heard of you often, Mr. Baldwin," said McCarthy coolly, +although fearful that Baldwin might remember him. +</P> + +<P> +"You're McCarthy, the new third baseman, eh?" asked Baldwin, without +offering his hand and merely glancing at the boy. "Saw you play +to-day. Too bad you threw that game away." +</P> + +<P> +"I"——McCarthy started to offer defense. +</P> + +<P> +"We must be going, Helen," said Baldwin. +</P> + +<P> +The girl extended her hand carelessly. +</P> + +<P> +"We hope to have the pleasure of seeing you again," she said. +</P> + +<P> +Baldwin, with a curt nod to the player, turned to leave the parlor and +McCarthy, seizing the opportunity, said: +</P> + +<P> +"As a favor, Helen, do not reveal my identity. Your uncle did not +recognize me as the boy he saw play on the Shasta View team." +</P> + +<P> +"You need not fear," she responded rapidly. "And, Larry, please be +sensible. Go home and make it up with Mr. Lawrence—and you may hope. +And," she added in a low tone, "beware of that girl." +</P> + +<P> +She hurried after her uncle, who had stopped and turned impatiently, +leaving McCarthy staring after her and frowning. After all, he thought +bitterly, his uncle was right. All she cared for was the money and not +for him. He had quarreled with his uncle, his best friend, who had +taken care of him since his childhood and who had made him his heir—on +account of her. He was free. Yes, he was free. +</P> + +<P> +He found himself wondering that he was happy instead of bitter over the +loss of Helen Baldwin. He knew now he never had loved her. With a +thrill of gladness came the thought of Betty Tabor. His jaw set, the +fighting look came into his blue eyes and he saw his way clearly. He +was not free. His duty was to the Bears. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap08"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER VIII +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +<I>In the Deeper Waters</I> +</H4> + +<P> +Two defeats at the hands of the Maroons sent the Bears into the final +game of the series desperately determined to win. Their pitching staff +was exhausted from the effort to stop the team which they had expected +to beat easily. +</P> + +<P> +The game was a brilliant exhibition of defensive playing on the part of +the Bears, who were driven back by the hard hitting of the Maroons. In +spite of the fierce batting of the Maroons the magnificent defensive +work of the Bears held their rivals to two runs, while by their +brilliant and resourceful attack and skilful inside work they had +scored three runs on five scattered hits, and at the start of the +eighth inning were holding grimly to their lead of one run. +</P> + +<P> +McCarthy, spurred by determination to redeem himself for the errors of +the preceding games, was giving a wonderful exhibition of third-base +play. The knowledge that Helen Baldwin, her uncle and a group of +friends were sitting in one of the field boxes directly behind him +urged him to greater efforts. It was his long hit in the sixth inning, +followed by a clever steal of third, that had enabled the Bears to gain +the lead which they were holding by their fast work on the infield. +</P> + +<P> +The Bears failed to score in their half of the eighth, and the Maroons +opened with a fierce assault upon Klinker that threatened to break down +the Bears' inner wall of defense. Swanson's brilliant stop and throw +of a vicious drive checked the bombardment, but a safe drive and a +two-base hit went whizzing through beyond the finger tips of the diving +infielders, and there were runners on second and third bases, one out +and a hit needed to turn the tide in favor of the Maroons again. +</P> + +<P> +The infield was drawn close in the hope of cutting off the runner from +the home plate. It was desperate baseball, and, as the infielders +advanced to the edge of the grass, each man knew that a line smash, a +hard-driven bounder between them, or even a fumble, probably meant the +destruction of their pennant hopes. +</P> + +<P> +The ball was hit with terrific force straight at McCarthy, who threw up +his hands and blocked desperately. The ball tore through his hands, +struck his knee with numbing force and rolled a few feet away. He +pounced upon it and like a flash hurled it to Kennedy at the plate, so +far ahead of the runner who was trying to score that he turned back +toward third, with Kennedy in pursuit. Swanson had come up to cover +third, and the runner from second base stood at the third bag watching +the play, ready to dash back if the runner, trapped between third and +the plate, managed to elude the pursuers and regain third base. +Kennedy passed the ball to Swanson, and as the runner turned back, +Swanson threw to McCarthy, who had fallen in behind Kennedy, leaving +the pitcher to cover the plate if the runner broke through in that +direction. The runner started to dodge, but McCarthy, without an +instant's hesitation, leaped after him and drove him hard back toward +third base, so hard that the runner went on over the bag and ten feet +beyond before he could stop. Like a flash McCarthy leaped sideways, +touched the other runner who was starting back to second base, and, +with a fierce dive, he threw his body between the base and the runner +who had overslid it and tagged him. +</P> + +<P> +Before he could scramble to his feet to claim the double play he heard +Clancy, excited in spite of his long experience, shouting: "Good +boy—nice work." As the umpire waved both runners out the crowd, +bewildered for an instant by the rapidity with which McCarthy had +executed the coup, commenced to understand and broke into a thundering +round of applause as he limped toward the bench. +</P> + +<P> +With that attack staved off, the Bears held the Maroons safe in the +ninth and closed the final Western trip of the team with a hard-earned +victory. They started homeward that evening with confidence renewed +and the men hopeful. +</P> + +<P> +The Bears were scheduled to stop en route to the home grounds to play a +series of three games against the Travelers, a team low in the standing +of the clubs, but one of the most dangerous of all. It was a slow but +heavy-hitting aggregation, and at times more dreaded than were the +stronger clubs. The series was a critical one for the Bears as, after +that, they would return to the home grounds to play all the other +games, with the exception of two against the Blues. +</P> + +<P> +McCarthy was happier and more interested than he had been since he +joined the Bears. Restlessly he awaited an opportunity to talk with +Betty Tabor. Since his interview with Helen Baldwin he had been +strangely jubilant for a young man who had just been discarded by the +girl to whom he was engaged. He wondered how much of the conversation +Betty Tabor had overheard, and worried about it. He wanted to explain +to her who Miss Baldwin was and how he had happened to be talking with +her, yet he knew it would seem presumptuous for him to broach the +subject. Why should Betty Tabor think enough of him to be jealous? +Yet, in spite of this, he decided that, at the first opportunity, he +would mention meeting Helen Baldwin. +</P> + +<P> +He went to bed annoyed and with an odd sense of being wronged. He +determined to see the girl at breakfast and almost decided to confide +in her the secret of his past life. But he did not see her at +breakfast. After a restless night he was among the first in the dining +car and he loitered, but the girl, usually one of the earliest risers, +slept late, and when the train reached the city of the Travelers she +went with Manager Clancy and his wife in a taxicab, while McCarthy was +bundled with the other players into the big auto 'bus. He failed to +catch a glimpse of her during luncheon and was in a bad humor when the +team made an early start for the ball park. +</P> + +<P> +The game was a runaway for the Bears. They piled up such a large score +during the early innings that Manager Clancy was able to take out +Morgan in the sixth and send Shelby, a second-string pitcher, to finish +the game, saving up more strength and skill to use at the finish. +</P> + +<P> +It was a jubilant crowd of players that returned to the hotel after the +game. They sang and laughed and were happy again. They had won, and +during the afternoon the Panthers, overconfident, had suffered two +defeats by the Maroons, leaving the teams again practically tied for +the lead. +</P> + +<P> +McCarthy spent the evening loitering around the hotel lobbies, still +hoping for an opportunity to see Miss Tabor, and she failed to appear +at dinner and was not with Mr. and Mrs. Clancy when they started out +for a car ride. He wandered aimlessly around until, abandoning his +quest, he went to his room disconsolately. It was not yet eleven +o'clock, but Swanson was preparing for sleep. As McCarthy came into +the room he stopped to laugh. The giant shortstop was in his pajamas, +on his back in the bed. With one bare foot he was holding a sheet of +paper against the head board, and with a pencil grasped between the +toes of the other foot he was laboriously striving to write. +</P> + +<P> +"What was you trying to do, Silent?" asked McCarthy, laughing harder. +</P> + +<P> +"Figuring my share of the World's Series receipts," responded Swanson, +laboring harder. "Clancy said he'd fine any one of us caught with a +pencil in his hand doping out these statistics," said Swanson, "and I +just had to know." +</P> + +<P> +They were ready to settle down for the night when the telephone rang in +the connecting room. The door between the rooms was ajar, and Swanson +sprang from bed to respond to the call. +</P> + +<P> +"Hello!" he said. "Hello! Yes, this is Williams's room, but he isn't +in just now. What? Oh, yes, I understand. I'll tell him. +Hello—hold a minute, here he is now." +</P> + +<P> +"Hey, Adonis," Swanson called to the pitcher, who was just entering the +room from the hallway. "Someone wants you." +</P> + +<P> +He handed the receiver to Williams carelessly and walked back into the +room, where McCarthy was stretched upon the bed reading. His face was +working rapidly as if trying to tell McCarthy something by lip signals. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm tired," said Swanson in a loud tone; "let's sleep late in the +morning." Then approaching McCarthy's bed he said in a whisper: +"Listen. Try to catch what he says." +</P> + +<P> +"Hello! Yes, this is Williams," said the pitcher brusquely. Then his +voice changed suddenly. "Yes, Ed, I know you. To-night? Aw, say, Ed, +I've got to have sleep! Can't it wait? I'll be there in a quarter of +an hour." +</P> + +<P> +He hurried out of the room, and before the door slammed behind him +Swanson had leaped from bed and was dressing with great haste. +</P> + +<P> +"Kohinoor, that was Easy Ed Edwards calling him." +</P> + +<P> +"What are you going to do?" inquired McCarthy. +</P> + +<P> +"Get a move on yourself," ordered the giant. "Something is up and I +want to know what it is. Wait a minute," he added as if by sudden +inspiration, and ran to the telephone. +</P> + +<P> +"Hello," he said to the operator. "Can you tell me where that call for +Mr. Williams came from just now? He has forgotten which hotel he is to +meet his friend at. Thank you," he said after a moment's wait. +</P> + +<P> +"Hurry. He's going to the Metropolis Hotel," he ordered. "We must +catch up with him." +</P> + +<P> +They dressed with the speed of men accustomed to changing clothing four +or five times a day, and before Williams had been five minutes on his +way they were racing for the elevator. Swanson, hastily leaping into a +waiting taxicab, ordered the driver to make all possible speed to the +corner nearest the Metropolis Hotel. +</P> + +<P> +"What is up?" asked McCarthy, as they settled back in the cushions of +the taxi as it lurched over the pavement. +</P> + +<P> +"There is something funny going on in this ball club," said Swanson. +"And I am going to find out what it is. Whatever it is, Williams is +mixed up in it. I want to find out why he is meeting Edwards to-night +and what is up." +</P> + +<P> +"What do you think?" asked McCarthy. +</P> + +<P> +"I haven't got it figured out," said Swanson, scratching his head. +"There has been something wrong for two weeks. Ever since you joined +the club Williams hasn't been natural. He acts mysterious off the +field and worse than that on it. He has only won one of his last three +games, and ought to have lost them all the way he pitched." +</P> + +<P> +The taxi jerked to a stop at the corner opposite the hotel, and +Swanson, after reconnoitering carefully, led the way across the street +and into the café. +</P> + +<P> +"I used to know this place like a book when I was hitting the booze," +he said. "They'll be in here—or I don't know Williams. Let's take +the corner booth so we can see who comes in and goes out." +</P> + +<P> +Five minutes later two men came through the swinging doors from the +hotel lobby. Swanson could see them, but McCarthy was out of the range +of vision. Swanson drew back deeper into the booth. +</P> + +<P> +"Who is it?" inquired McCarthy in a whisper. +</P> + +<P> +"Sh—h! It's Williams and Edwards. They're going into the booth next +to us. Put your ear close to the partition. I'd give a farm to hear +them." +</P> + +<P> +The players sipped their soft drinks, while in turn they strove to hear +what was passing in the next booth. Occasionally they could +distinguish a voice, but the words were unintelligible. Ten minutes of +vain listening ensued. Then a heavy man in evening clothes hurried +into the café, and after a hasty glance into the booths entered the one +in which Edwards and Williams were waiting. +</P> + +<P> +"I wonder who that fat man is?" whispered Swanson. +</P> + +<P> +"It's a lucky thing he didn't recognize me," replied McCarthy in low +tones. "That's Barney Baldwin, the broker and politician, one of the +big men of this part of the country—and a crook." +</P> + +<P> +"Whew," whistled Swanson. "Let's sneak. We can't hear anything—and +the water is getting deep." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap09"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER IX +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +<I>Baldwin Gets into the Plot</I> +</H4> + +<P> +The events that led up to the midnight conference between Barney +Baldwin, Ed Edwards and Adonis Williams in the booth at the Metropolis +Hotel that night would have been of vast interest to several millions +of baseball enthusiasts had they known of them. +</P> + +<P> +They started with the arrival of Easy Ed Edwards in the city of the +Travelers. He had run down to watch the game between the Bears and the +Travelers in rather a pleasant frame of mind. His plans for a huge +gambling coup seemed to be working out well, and, with the Panthers +holding a lead of a game and a half, with but eleven more games to be +played, he was adding to his line of wagers. The double defeat of the +Panthers and the easy victory of the Bears had placed a new aspect on +the league race, with the Bears again favorites. Edwards had left the +baseball park in the middle of the game in a frenzy of anger. It was +too late now for him to attempt to lay off his bets, and he stood to +lose more than $100,000 if his plans to have the Panthers win the +pennant from the Bears went astray. It was in this mood that he +returned to the hotel and commenced to make drastic plans. In the +lobby of the hotel he encountered Barney Baldwin. +</P> + +<P> +"Hello, Barney," he said, shaking hands with the broker. "What brings +you down?" +</P> + +<P> +"Hello, Ed," replied the big man cordially. "Let's have a drink. I've +been away a month out West visiting the family. Brought my niece on +East with me. Just got home and heard that things are going wrong, so +I ran over here last night to see what sort of cattle have been +breaking up my political fences while I've been gone. What brings you +over here?" +</P> + +<P> +"Baseball—ran down to see the game to-day. Rotten game." +</P> + +<P> +"Didn't know you were interested in baseball," said the politician. +"I'm pretty well satisfied with the situation—both my clubs up there +fighting for the lead, and I'm getting it coming and going." +</P> + +<P> +"Both your clubs?" ejaculated the gambler. "I knew you had some stock +in some club. How much of the Bears and Panthers do you own?" +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I can control both in a pinch. I don't pay much attention to +them. I let the fellows I hire as presidents of the clubs do the +worrying." +</P> + +<P> +"If you own both these clubs you and I can do a little business," said +the gambler, lowering his voice. "Come on up to my rooms and we'll +have our drinks sent up there where we can talk." +</P> + +<P> +"I haven't much time, Ed," protested Baldwin. "I want to meet some of +the boys down here and learn how the political situation is stacking +up." +</P> + +<P> +They ascended to Edwards's rooms and when they were seated the gambler +rang for wine, and, leaning forward, said: +</P> + +<P> +"You want your man, Hoskins, to go to the Senate when the Legislature +meets this winter?" +</P> + +<P> +"Why—not exactly—my political plans are rather indefinite. Hoskins +is an acceptable man"—— +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, chop it," said the gambler sharply. "There's no use for us to try +to fool each other. You want to put Hoskins over and you know you're +going to have a deuce of a time crowding him through." +</P> + +<P> +"Admitting that to be the case, what then?" +</P> + +<P> +"I think I can push it over for you," the gambler said easily. "Up +home I've got four members of the Legislature where they will do what I +say—and perhaps can handle two others. With those four your man would +go over—if you've lined up as many members as the papers say you have." +</P> + +<P> +"Rather early to count noses," Baldwin started to protest. "We may +line up several others"—— +</P> + +<P> +"Nothing doing!" exclaimed Edwards sharply. "You've got all you +can—the others are lined up either with the high brows or against you +under Mullins. I can deliver four, possibly six, of Mullin's votes +that he counts as sure." +</P> + +<P> +"What do you want out of it?" The politician was interested at last. +</P> + +<P> +"Does it make any difference to you whether the Bears or the Panthers +win?" Edwards put the question as if casually. +</P> + +<P> +"It don't make any difference to me," Baldwin retorted curtly. "I'm +not a bit interested in baseball—except to make money out of the +teams. I bought the stock as part of a political deal—to help someone +out—and it turned out a good investment. What has that to do with it?" +</P> + +<P> +"Baldwin," said the gambler, leaning forward again and speaking in low +tones, "you see to it that the Panthers beat the Bears out in that +pennant race, and I'll deliver you at least five votes for your man." +</P> + +<P> +"That's easy," remarked Baldwin. "I can turn that quickly enough, but +I don't see where you get off." +</P> + +<P> +"You make it a sure thing and I'll tend to my own part of it," said the +gambler. "I'll get mine, but I'm not so certain you can do it as +easily as you think." +</P> + +<P> +"Why not—don't both clubs belong to me?" +</P> + +<P> +"Sure they do," said the gambler, "but baseball is a hard thing to +monkey with. You've got to handle it carefully, for if the fact came +out we'd be in such hot water we'd both scald." +</P> + +<P> +"Nonsense," said Baldwin testily. "I'll call the presidents in, +explain what I want and let them do it." +</P> + +<P> +"Keep off that stuff," warned the gambler. "You don't seem to know +much about this game. If you tried to tell Clancy to lose this pennant +he'd run straight to some reporter, and the whole country would be up +in arms. I shouldn't wonder if they'd lynch you." +</P> + +<P> +"Then how do you propose having it done?" asked the political boss, for +once willing to listen to advice. He had no qualms of conscience. To +him baseball meant a game, and the fact that hundreds of thousands of +persons in all parts of the country were vitally interested either in +the Bears or the Panthers did not count with him. He only sought the +easiest and safest way to accomplish his ends without arousing +suspicion. +</P> + +<P> +"I have one of the Bears fixed," said Edwards. "But I'm afraid of him. +He is crooked and willing to deliver, but he is yellow—lacks +courage—and he is likely to fail to deliver just when I need him most. +The first thing I want you to do is to help stiffen this fellow's +backbone. After that we'll try to get at someone else. If you say +it's all right and promise to protect them we will find it easier." +</P> + +<P> +"This must be a big thing for you, Edwards," suggested Baldwin as +another drink was served and the waiter departed. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't mind telling you that if the Bears win I'll almost be +smashed," replied the gambler angrily. "I was fool enough to play the +game myself. I picked the Panthers to win and made a lot of scattering +bets all summer. Then Carson, the Bears' third baseman, broke a leg. +They tried to keep it quiet as long as possible. I had a friend in the +club who tipped off to me an hour after it happened that Carson's leg +was smashed in two places. I jumped right in and plunged, thinking +that without Carson the Bears hadn't a chance. Then along comes this +blanked red-head and turns it all upside down." +</P> + +<P> +"What red-head?" +</P> + +<P> +"McCarthy—that kid third baseman. He's been winning games right along +that they ought to have lost, and it looks as if the Bears will win out +anyhow—unless you can stop them." +</P> + +<P> +"McCarthy, eh?" Baldwin smiled patronizingly for the first time. "My +boy, don't worry. You may know baseball better than I do—but you've +hit something I know about. I think I can handle this McCarthy. I +believe you can get ready to deliver those votes. I must be going now." +</P> + +<P> +"I'm going to send for that pitcher I've got fixed, to-night," said +Edwards. +</P> + +<P> +"Have him down about ten, or a little later," suggested Baldwin +genially as he arose to leave. +</P> + +<P> +It was the arrival of Baldwin in the barroom to attend the meeting with +Adonis Williams and Easy Ed Edwards that Silent Swanson and Kohinoor +McCarthy saw—and it was well for McCarthy's peace of mind that he did +not hear what transpired at that meeting. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap10"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER X +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +<I>Williams Caught in the Net</I> +</H4> + +<P> +Baldwin, by nature, was pompous and patronizing. In his capacity as +political boss, representing certain more or less questionable +financial interests, he distributed political patronage with an air of +one bestowing great favors personally. +</P> + +<P> +Baldwin's rise to riches and to a certain degree of power had been a +strange one. He had been a bartender, and had by a certain selfish +economy and "touching the till" acquired sufficient money to purchase +the saloon in which he was employed from the honest German who had +trusted him almost to the verge of bankruptcy. Certain wealthy men and +some others interested in public utilities had seen in Baldwin a proper +catspaw, and, in a small way, had used him in politics. From that he +had developed quickly into an official collector of graft money from +disorderly houses, saloons, and gamblers. +</P> + +<P> +Baldwin had become more and more independent financially and more +powerful politically as he learned the game. He was shrewd and quick +to learn. His share of the collections became larger and larger until +in time he was admitted to the higher circle of graft, and, having +served his apprenticeship, he had others to collect for him and take +the greater risk of going to prison. Eventually, by cunning catering +to big interests, he became the political boss of his city, stockholder +in several public utilities, and head of a brokerage firm, which he +maintained more to account for his possession of wealth than to do +business, although favored in many instances in bond deals. His +purchase of stock in baseball clubs had been incidental. He knew +little of the game and cared less. He was satisfied with the large +returns on the stock and avoided publicity in advertising himself as +owner of either team through fear of causing an increase in the demand, +"Where did you get it?" +</P> + +<P> +Easy Ed Edwards, while waiting in the booth of the Metropolis Café, had +told Adonis Williams the name of the man for whom they were waiting. +</P> + +<P> +"Now get wise, Adonis," he advised, in friendly tones. "I'll tip you +to something no one outside a few is on to. Baldwin owns this club +you're pitching for, and he owns the Panthers. I had it from him +to-night that he wants the Panthers to win the pennant this season. +You toss off a game or two to help him and you'll be strong with him +for life. You know he holds this State in his vest pocket." +</P> + +<P> +"Ain't I trying my best?" said Williams. "Clancy won't let me work +often now. He was working me to death until a couple of weeks ago and +now he's always saving me for some other team. I asked him to get in +to-morrow. Maybe I'll work. If I do I'll make good and lose it." +</P> + +<P> +"Here he comes now," said Edwards in a low tone as Baldwin came +pompously into the barroom in search of them. "I'll talk and let you +hear what he wants." +</P> + +<P> +"Ah, here we are," said Baldwin pompously, as he discovered them. +"Order a bottle of wine, Ed, and introduce me to your friend." +</P> + +<P> +He already was well warmed with drink and looser and less cautious in +his conversation than customary. +</P> + +<P> +"Glad to meet you, Williams," he said as Edwards went through the +formalities of introduction. "I've seen you pitch. Had a good season?" +</P> + +<P> +"Fair," said Williams, striving to appear modest. "I've won twenty-six +and lost eleven—some of them tough ones, especially lately." +</P> + +<P> +"Sorry to spoil your record, my boy," said Baldwin patronizingly, "but +you must lose a few more for the interests of all concerned." +</P> + +<P> +"Not so loud, Baldwin," warned Edwards. +</P> + +<P> +"All right, all right," assented Baldwin unvexed. "Let's have another +bottle. +</P> + +<P> +"Now, young fellow," he continued in a low tone when the drink was +served, "you know who I am. I don't forget my friends. That's my +motto. Anyone who does anything that helps me, or helps a friend of +mine"—— +</P> + +<P> +He paused to wave his hand indicating that Edwards was the friend. +</P> + +<P> +The man was half drunk and too loose with his talk to please the more +cautious gambler. +</P> + +<P> +"Adonis here is all right," said the gambler suavely. "I don't blame +him for being a little bit cautious. You see, Barney, Adonis wasn't +sure the big men behind the game wanted it to go that way and I don't +blame him. I wanted him to understand how the owners feel." +</P> + +<P> +"I'm wise, I guess," said Williams, warming with the wine. "All I need +is the chance, and I'll make the Panthers win it." +</P> + +<P> +"You understand," Baldwin said pompously, "it won't do at all for +owners to have anything to do with the games; that's the reason I don't +care to have my name mentioned in connection with the Bears or the +Panthers, but in this case it is to all our interests to have the +Panthers win. My boy, I'll take care of you well, if you deliver the +goods." +</P> + +<P> +"You may count on me. We have ten more games to play, and I ought to +work three, maybe four. I can lose two or three and make it a cinch." +</P> + +<P> +"That's the talk," said Baldwin genially. "You know which side your +bread is buttered on." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," remarked Edwards, "he does—but he wants it on both sides. He's +had chances already to end this race, and won instead of losing." +</P> + +<P> +"I couldn't help it," retorted Williams. "You know, Ed, I tried to +lose, but that red-headed four-flush was lucky enough to keep me from +it. You know I don't dare to make it too raw. Clancy might get +suspicious." +</P> + +<P> +"This McCarthy seems to be the trouble maker all 'round," suggested +Baldwin. "With him eliminated it ought to be easy, hadn't it?" +</P> + +<P> +"Him a good ball player!" ejaculated Williams angrily. "Say, he's a +bum. He's just lucky." +</P> + +<P> +"I don't want any more such luck," sneered Edwards. "The next time +you're in there you lose the game right—you hear? Let them get a big +bunch of runs right quick so no one can save the game." +</P> + +<P> +"Maybe Clancy won't let me pitch," objected the star whiningly. "I +can't make him let me pitch." +</P> + +<P> +"I'll see to that," said Baldwin casually. "I'll see the president in +the morning and have him tell this Clancy to let you pitch. Then he'll +put you in." +</P> + +<P> +"Don't be too certain of that," said Edwards. "Clancy usually runs the +team to suit himself—and he plays to win." +</P> + +<P> +"You leave that to me," replied Baldwin complacently. "I usually get +what I want. Meantime, I think I can fix this young fellow Mac. I'll +have a little talk with him in the morning." +</P> + +<P> +"Don't let him find out that you know either of us," warned Edwards. +"He's a pretty cagey young fellow from what I hear." +</P> + +<P> +"Trust me for that," said the big man. "I've handled wise fish before +now, and landed them without using a net." +</P> + +<P> +"You know anything about him?" inquired Williams. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes—and no. Anyhow I am pretty close to someone—a woman—who knows +him and knows all about him." +</P> + +<P> +"I wish I did," snarled Williams, now growling mean from the effects of +drink. "Who's the woman?" +</P> + +<P> +"She's someone whose name won't appear in this matter," replied the +politician reprovingly. "She's a relative of mine. I think he is in +love with her and she turned him down cold. Let's have another bottle +and break up the party." +</P> + +<P> +"He was in love with her?" asked Williams eagerly, as a plan for +revenge flashed through his mind. +</P> + +<P> +"I believe so," said Baldwin carelessly. "Family affair. Never heard +the details. Of course she couldn't marry a fellow of that class." +</P> + +<P> +The three men emerged from the booth, Williams and Baldwin flushed and +unsteady from the drink, Edwards cold and revealing not a trace of the +wine. +</P> + +<P> +"Williams, you'd better go out the front door," he said quietly. "It +wouldn't do for you to be seen around the lobby with us at this hour." +</P> + +<P> +Fifteen minutes later Swanson and McCarthy, in their beds, heard +Williams enter the adjoining room unsteadily and hastily prepare for +bed. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap11"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XI +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +<I>McCarthy in Disgrace</I> +</H4> + +<P> +Events crowded upon each other rapidly the following day. The first +was a telephone call soon after breakfast that summoned Manager Clancy +to the Metropolis Café. +</P> + +<P> +"Hello, Mac," said Clancy gladly. "How you hittin' em? Haven't seen +you in an age. How's tricks?" +</P> + +<P> +"Pretty good, Bill. You're looking fine," replied McMahon, manager of +the café, who in his youth had played ball on the team with the now +famous Clancy. "I was worried about something I heard this morning and +thought I'd send for you. I couldn't come up." +</P> + +<P> +"What is it? Let's have a drink—make mine grape juice." +</P> + +<P> +"When I came down this morning Johnny, the night man, told me one of +your players was in here until after midnight last night," said the old +ball player. +</P> + +<P> +"Which one?" demanded the manager angrily. +</P> + +<P> +"He didn't know him, except that he was a ball player. He was a +sandy-haired fellow, rather slender and wiry looking." +</P> + +<P> +"McCarthy—maybe," said the manager thoughtfully and worried. "I +didn't think that bird would do it. Something funny." +</P> + +<P> +He had leaped at the identification. +</P> + +<P> +"That isn't the worst of it, Bill," continued McMahon, "that fellow was +with Easy Ed Edwards and a big fat guy in a dress suit." +</P> + +<P> +"What?" demanded Clancy, starting indignantly. "Sure of that?" +</P> + +<P> +"Johnny knows Ed Edwards. They sat in the booth over there and had +four quarts of wine, and the player was pretty well lighted up when +they got out." +</P> + +<P> +"Thanks, Mac," said Clancy worriedly. "This is tough news at this +stage of the game. I'll have to take a look into it." +</P> + +<P> +Clancy, his weather-beaten face furrowed with a heavy frown, walked +slowly back to the hotel. +</P> + +<P> +President Bannard, of the Bears, was waiting for him in the lobby. +</P> + +<P> +"Good morning, Bill," he said. "You're out early. I wanted to see +you." +</P> + +<P> +"Had some business downtown and went out an hour or so ago," replied +the manager. "What's the woe?" +</P> + +<P> +"Who's going to pitch to-day?" asked the president. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know. I never decide in advance," responded the manager +carelessly. "Guess it will be either Wilcox or Williams—whichever one +looks best warming up." +</P> + +<P> +"If it's all the same to you," said the president diplomatically, "I +wish you'd let Williams work." +</P> + +<P> +"Why?" demanded Clancy, on the defensive in an instant. +</P> + +<P> +"It's this way, Bill," explained the president. "You know I don't own +this club. I've got most of my money in it, but another fellow has +control of the stock. He is going to the game and he asked me to let +Williams pitch, as he never has seen him work." +</P> + +<P> +"Williams hasn't been very steady in his last three games," remarked +the manager thoughtfully. "I don't want to risk this pennant to please +anyone, no matter if he owns the whole league." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, you said yourself that your choice was between Williams and +Wilcox, so I can't see it makes any difference." +</P> + +<P> +"You know I don't like to announce pitchers ahead of time," said the +manager. +</P> + +<P> +"It seems to me the owner ought to have a right"—— +</P> + +<P> +"Now look here, Bannard," said Clancy sharply, "when I signed this +contract it was with the agreement that I was to run the business on +the ball field and let your end of it alone. I'm perfectly willing to +oblige a stockholder, but I'm going to win this pennant, and I'll do +what I please with the playing end of the game. If Adonis looks good +warming up he'll go in, if he don't I'll send someone else to the +slab—and that goes." +</P> + +<P> +"Well—have it your own way"; the president had surrendered entirely to +the aggressive manager. "Put him in if you can, and if you can't I'll +explain that he wasn't right—twisted himself or something." +</P> + +<P> +Clancy went to his room puzzled and annoyed and, as usual, he sought +advice and enlightenment by consulting Mrs. Clancy, whose abundant good +nature and portliness formed a striking contrast with his seriousness +and slenderness. +</P> + +<P> +"Willie," she said, laying down her sewing after Clancy had stood at +the window, whistling and gazing out for ten minutes without saying a +word. "Well, Willie—who has broken a leg or sprung a Charlie horse +now?" +</P> + +<P> +"Nothing much, mother," said the big manager quietly. "Nothing +much—just worrying a little over the way things are going." +</P> + +<P> +"Bill Clancy," she ejaculated indignantly. "Do you think you can fool +anyone with that talk? Do you think I could live with you eighteen +years, come next Martinmas, and not know when you're in trouble? Tell +your old lady what it is." +</P> + +<P> +"Sure, mother," he said fondly, coming to put his arm around her waist. +"Haven't you enough troubles of your own?" +</P> + +<P> +"Me have troubles?" She was indignant. "Nothing troubles me but +worrying over those pesky boys of yours. What's wrong now, Willie?" +</P> + +<P> +"One of the boys out skylarking last night—and drinking." +</P> + +<P> +"Saints forgive him," she said piously, but with a note of relief. +"Sure you'll not be fining the poor boy? Perhaps he needed a drink or +two to keep up his courage." +</P> + +<P> +"Nothing like that, mother," he replied seriously. "This was one of +the young fellows out with some gamblers drinking wine till past +midnight. It looks serious." +</P> + +<P> +"Now, Bill Clancy, you just send for that boy to come right up here and +talk it over. Tell him he must behave and explain what it means to all +the boys. Then you'll shame him and he'll be a good boy. They're all +good boys," she protested earnestly, "only they do try a poor woman." +</P> + +<P> +"I guess that's the best plan, mother," he said. "You trot over into +the other room and I'll have him up." +</P> + +<P> +"Which one is it this time, Willie?" +</P> + +<P> +"McCarthy!" +</P> + +<P> +"McCarthy—why, Willie, he wouldn't—there's some mistake. That poor +boy wouldn't do such a thing. And him grieving his heart out because +Betty Tabor won't treat him well any more. That's what's the trouble, +Willie." +</P> + +<P> +"We'll see what it is," said the manager, checking her flow of defense +curtly. "I'll have him up. You run into the other room with the +sewing and—don't listen." +</P> + +<P> +His telephone call found McCarthy in his room, and the young third +baseman promptly ascended to the manager's apartment and entered +innocently. +</P> + +<P> +"Good morning, Boss," he said, following the burlesque style of +greeting used by the Bears to their manager. +</P> + +<P> +"Good morning," said Clancy curtly, as he scrutinized the face of the +player for signs of a debauch and found the blue eyes clear and fresh. +</P> + +<P> +"You wanted to see me?" inquired McCarthy, thrown a little off his easy +bearing. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes—where were you last night?" +</P> + +<P> +"I—in my room"—he suddenly remembered the excursion with Swanson. "I +was out for a while," he concluded lamely. +</P> + +<P> +"Were you in the café of the Metropolis Hotel late?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," confessed McCarthy, bridling at the tone employed by the +manager. "I was in there." +</P> + +<P> +"Drinking?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes—lemonade." +</P> + +<P> +"Nothing stronger?" +</P> + +<P> +"No." +</P> + +<P> +"No wine?" +</P> + +<P> +"No—I'm not in the wine class." +</P> + +<P> +"Who were you with?" +</P> + +<P> +"You're the manager," said McCarthy quietly, although he was rebellious +inwardly. "You may ask me anything you want to about myself or my +actions—but you surely don't expect me to tell on anyone else?" +</P> + +<P> +"I don't want you to tell on any ball player—but who were you with?" +</P> + +<P> +"I'm not at liberty to tell." +</P> + +<P> +"You needn't tell me—I know," said the manager angrily. "You got up +out of bed to go there to meet Easy Ed Edwards—and you were with him +while three of you drank four quarts of wine." +</P> + +<P> +For an instant McCarthy clenched his hands until the nails bit into the +palms, and a flood of angry color flashed into his face. With an +effort he controlled himself. +</P> + +<P> +"You've got everything backwards," he said at last, gazing straight at +the angry manager. "I can't explain just now—but you'll find out some +day—and apologize." +</P> + +<P> +He turned without another word and left the room. Clancy, who had +expected angry denials, threats, perhaps a personal encounter, sat +gazing at the closed door, and then to himself he said: +</P> + +<P> +"It looks bad, but hanged if I don't believe him. No fellow could lie +and look like that." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap12"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XII +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +<I>McCarthy Defies Barney Baldwin</I> +</H4> + +<P> +"Pardridge, playing third base in place of McCarthy, Holleran in left. +Morton and Kennedy, battery for the Bears." +</P> + +<P> +This announcement, bawled by a battery of megaphone men in front of the +crowded stands that afternoon was the first intimation that McCarthy +had of the contemplated action of Manager Clancy in taking him out of +the game. He sprang from the end of the bench, where he was tying his +shoes, toward the manager, an angry exclamation on his lips, and his +blue eyes flashing as they narrowed to the battle slit. Swanson, who +was sitting next him, fondling a bat, seized McCarthy with his +tremendous grip and jerked him back to his seat. +</P> + +<P> +"Steady, boy, steady," the big Swede cautioned. "Take your medicine. +Show your gameness." +</P> + +<P> +"I'm laid off," said McCarthy as if astonished. "It isn't right. He's +laying me off for something he thinks I did"—— +</P> + +<P> +"Don't quit—be game," cautioned Swanson. "Tell me about it to-night." +</P> + +<P> +McCarthy was miserable, and his face revealed it. Swanson, hardened by +years of facing such little tragedies, of seeing the hearts of young +players broken under such punishment, sympathized, but preserved a +cheerful demeanor as he selected his bats and prepared for the battle. +</P> + +<P> +"Buck up, Jimmy boy," said Swanson, sitting down beside him and +pretending to be retying his shoe laces. "We'll win this one anyhow, +and to-night we'll have a talk with Clancy after he cools down. I can +square things with him." +</P> + +<P> +The comforting words of the kindly, big shortstop helped McCarthy. +Clancy did not look toward the youngster, who sat huddled in his heavy +sweaters on the opposite end of the bench watching the game and going +over and over in his mind the circumstances that had led to his +punishment and banishment from the team. +</P> + +<P> +The game proceeded rapidly. The Bears scored a run in the second +inning on Swanson's long drive against the left field fence for three +bases, and a fly to the outfield, on which Swanson came by sliding +under the catcher. In the fourth the Travelers evened up the score on +an error by Pardridge, who, off his balance by his sudden change of +position, threw wild and allowed a runner to score from second base. +The score remained tied until the fifth, neither team being able to hit +the opposing pitcher's delivery hard enough to send home a run. Then +Pardridge misplayed an easy bounder and, recovering, hurled wildly +toward second base, striving to force out a runner coming down from +first. His throw went on high and far into right field, one runner +scored, the batter was perched on second and the crowd was in a tumult, +thinking that the inevitable break had come. A crashing base-hit sent +home another runner, and with the score 3 to 1 against them the Bears +faced one of the supreme tests of nerve of the season. +</P> + +<P> +Gamely they rallied in the fifth and again in the sixth inning, but +failed to reach even terms again as Carver, the best pitcher of the +Travelers, was holding them by clever work. Each time they forced men +to within reaching distance of the plate he settled, and using more +speed, checked the attacks and made the game one sequence of +disappointments for the Bears. +</P> + +<P> +The seventh inning proved uneventful, although the crowd arose and +stood to urge the Travelers to make certain the victory and "rooted" +with the unholy glee that all crowds show over the downfall of a +champion. +</P> + +<P> +The eighth commenced. A base on balls paved the way and gave the Bears +a chance to exhibit their resourceful style of attack which had +overthrown so many opposing teams. The Travelers played deep, +believing that with two runs needed to tie the score the Bears would +not attempt to sacrifice, and Noisy Norton hooked his bat around +quickly, dropped a bunt down the third-base line, and beat the ball to +first base before Pickett, the third baseman of the Travelers, who had +been caught asleep, could reach the ball. +</P> + +<P> +McCarthy glanced toward the seat where Edwards, the gambler, sat. Easy +Ed's face was hard and set. He gripped the front of the box. The +gambler's iron nerve was shaken. Swanson rushed to the plate, swinging +two bats, and crouching, he pushed his bat back and forth as if +determined to lay down a sacrifice bunt. The Traveler infield crept +closer to stop the bunt. One ball was pitched wide. Again Swanson +crouched, and as the second pitched ball came whizzing up he made a +sharp, quick lunge; the ball went like a flash across first base, as +Davis dived vainly toward it, rolled onto foul ground, and before the +right fielder could retrieve the ball as it glanced along the front of +the stands, two runs were across the plate and the score was tied. +</P> + +<P> +McCarthy looked again. Edwards's usually stony face was writhing with +fury and disappointment as he leaned forward. The panic had seized the +Travelers. The infield was pulled close to intercept the runner at the +plate, and the shortstop, over anxious to make the play, fumbled the +easy grounder. Before the inning closed five runs were across the +plate; the Bears had snatched victory from defeat, and they clung to +their lead and won 6 to 3. +</P> + +<P> +As the last batter for the Travelers went out on a long fly to the +Bears' center fielder, McCarthy saw Edwards rise and hurl his cigar +viciously against the floor of the box, then turn to gaze long and +earnestly toward the Bear bench. Suddenly he gave a nod of his head +and McCarthy, following the line of the gambler's gaze, saw Williams +flush and then pale, as he turned to help the bat-boy pack the clubs. +</P> + +<P> +McCarthy had intended to follow Swanson's suggestion and to plan with +Swanson what course to adopt in explaining to Manager Clancy how +matters stood, but he did not have the opportunity. Waiting in the +lobby of the hotel when he returned, he found Barney Baldwin, who +accosted him. +</P> + +<P> +"You're McCarthy, the fellow my niece, Miss Baldwin, introduced me to, +aren't you?" he asked pompously, pretending to be uncertain of the +identity. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, young fellow, I want to have a quiet little talk with you. Come +up to my room at the Metropolis as soon as you get dressed. It's +important." +</P> + +<P> +They talked for a few minutes and McCarthy promised to come to the +Metropolis after dinner. He hastened to his room, and to his +disappointment found that Swanson had dressed hastily and already was +gone. Nor did the big Swede come to dinner, and McCarthy was compelled +to leave the hotel without seeing him in order to keep his engagement +with Baldwin. +</P> + +<P> +He was ushered into a pretentious apartment in the Metropolis, where +Baldwin was awaiting him, with a bottle of wine in the cooler at the +side of the table and a box of choice cigars at hand. +</P> + +<P> +"Sit down, my boy, sit down," urged Baldwin cordially. "Have a drink +and a cigar." +</P> + +<P> +"Thanks—I'll smoke. I'm not drinking," said McCarthy quietly. "You +wanted to see me?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes. You see I called Helen up over the long distance to-day and had +quite a talk with her about you. She dropped a few hints before she +left and I wanted to hear more of you." +</P> + +<P> +"Then she told you who I am?" +</P> + +<P> +"She told me you were a young man of good family and that you were +playing under an assumed name—but, of course, having promised, she +wouldn't tell more." +</P> + +<P> +"Now, I know how it is. You're in some trouble at home and just +bull-headed enough to refuse to give in. I admire you for it, my +boy—but it is youthful folly. Helen tells me she was engaged to you, +but broke off the engagement because you wouldn't go back home and quit +baseball. Now I want to see the thing in the right light. You come +and run down to my summer place with me to-morrow, spend a week or two +there with Helen, get things straightened out, and meanwhile I'll act +as peacemaker and fix things up so you can go home and eat the fatted +calf." +</P> + +<P> +"You've tackled a tough job," said McCarthy, grinning in spite of +himself at the mental picture of his uncle receiving overtures in his +behalf from Barney Baldwin, his bitterest enemy. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm certain it is a mere trifle when looked at in the right light," +urged Baldwin. "I can explain things. I'll wire your people that you +are visiting with us, and we'll forget all about this baseball +foolishness. Better come along." +</P> + +<P> +"I thank you for your good intentions, Mr. Baldwin," replied McCarthy +quietly, "but it is impossible. In the first place, the plan you +suggest would be about the worst possible—and more important than +that, I can't quit the team until it wins the pennant." +</P> + +<P> +"Now we're getting down to cases, my boy," said Baldwin, smoking +easily. "I want you to go, for your own sake, but I also want you to +go because I don't want the Bears to win that pennant. They haven't +treated you right, and they can't blame you if you quit." +</P> + +<P> +"You want me to throw the pennant race?" demanded McCarthy angrily. +"That's why you want me to leave the team, is it? I'll see you in +h—— first—I'm in bad with the manager—but I won't quit the team." +</P> + +<P> +"Now, now, my boy," interrupted Baldwin soothingly. "Take a sensible +view of it. It's for the best interests of all concerned. It don't +mean anything to you if you run back home, square yourself with the +family—and quit interfering with our plans." +</P> + +<P> +"You're a crook, Baldwin," said the third baseman threateningly. "My +uncle, James Lawrence, always said you were a crook and a thief, and +now I know it. I wouldn't quit now for all his money and all yours +together. I'll stick to the team and we'll win this pennant in spite +of you and your rotten gang." +</P> + +<P> +The effect of his words caused him to stop in surprise and alarm. The +big man, who had been sipping his wine, suddenly grew apoplectic and +sat staring at him. Baldwin stared at the slender youth as if at a +ghost. Suddenly he lurched forward as if to arise, and emitted a +torrent of oaths. +</P> + +<A NAME="img-137"></A> +<CENTER> +<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-137.jpg" ALT="Baldwin stared at the slender youth" BORDER="2" WIDTH="609" HEIGHT="421"> +<H4 CLASS="h4center" STYLE="width: 609px"> +Baldwin stared at the slender youth +</H4> +</CENTER> + +<P> +"You Jim Lawrence's nephew?" he half screamed. "You his boy? Well, by +——, I'll break you. I'll fix you—I'll"—— +</P> + +<P> +He pitched forward as if in a fit, and McCarthy, after ringing for +assistance, waited until the house physician had revived the big man, +then hurried back to his hotel, puzzled and excited and vaguely alarmed +over the developments of the evening. +</P> + +<P> +Swanson was not yet in the room. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap13"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XIII +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +<I>McCarthy Balks the Plotters</I> +</H4> + +<P> +It was past two o'clock when McCarthy was awakened from his troubled +sleep by the entrance of Swanson. +</P> + +<P> +"Hello, Silent," said McCarthy sleepily. "What time is it?" +</P> + +<P> +"Past two," said the shortstop, for once seeming unwilling to talk. +"Better get to sleep—you'll be in again to-day." +</P> + +<P> +"Where have you been?" asked McCarthy, wide awake in an instant and +interested. +</P> + +<P> +"Trailing," replied Swanson. "I've found out a few things. Meanwhile +I had a talk with Clancy. You little squarehead, why didn't you tell +him I was with you? Do you want to get yourself in bad by some fool +notion of protecting me? I couldn't tell him what we were doing—but I +told him you were with me, that you weren't drinking, and that you +weren't with Edwards." +</P> + +<P> +"What have you been doing all night?" asked McCarthy, restored to +happiness by the tidings. +</P> + +<P> +"Finding out things. I trailed Williams downtown right after the game. +He had dinner with Edwards in a private room. I couldn't find out what +happened, but Williams came out looking as if he had been jerked +through a knot hole. Then Edwards met that fat party that had you in +his room." +</P> + +<P> +"Is he in it, too?" asked McCarthy. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes—who and what is he?" +</P> + +<P> +"His name is Baldwin. He's a big politician and broker here in the +East and I knew him out West, where he owns a ranch." +</P> + +<P> +"What did he want with you?" +</P> + +<P> +"He wanted me to quit the team and run back home. I told him where he +got off. The idea of asking me to quit the boys now, when they may +need me!" +</P> + +<P> +"I can imagine what you said," laughed Swanson. "Did you kick him on +the shins and try to make him fight?" +</P> + +<P> +"I wanted to," replied McCarthy savagely. "I can't see where he gets +into this affair at all. There's something queer all round." +</P> + +<P> +"Listen, Kohinoor," said Swanson. "Someone wants to beat the Bears out +of this pennant, and whoever it is is turning every trick possible to +beat us. I suspect they've got to Williams and that he is trying to +throw games, and I've been working all night trying to get the goods on +him. We can't run to Clancy with a yarn like that unless we're ready +to prove it. Now go to sleep and get ready to win to-morrow's +game—to-day's, rather." +</P> + +<P> +McCarthy lay staring, sleepless, into the darkness, his brain whirling +as he strove to penetrate the maze of intrigue and plotting of which he +seemed the center. Half an hour passed, then, as he turned in bed, a +sleepy voice from the next bed asked: +</P> + +<P> +"Asleep, Kohinoor?" +</P> + +<P> +"No." +</P> + +<P> +"Then quit worrying. I had a talk with Betty Tabor to-night, and you +needn't worry. She don't believe all she hears." +</P> + +<P> +"What did she say, Silent?" asked McCarthy, sitting up in bed suddenly. +</P> + +<P> +"Aw, go to sleep," responded Swanson, as he rolled over, chuckling at +the manner in which McCarthy had betrayed his interest. +</P> + +<P> +It was nearly noon when Swanson and McCarthy descended to the hotel +lobby in better frames of mind. +</P> + +<P> +Manager Clancy, serious and worried, was talking with a gray-haired man +and a younger man. McCarthy observed them and grew uncomfortable under +their close scrutiny as the three turned toward him and focussed their +eyes upon him. He felt relieved when the smaller man shook his head +positively and was not surprised a moment later when Clancy came +forward toward him and said frankly: +</P> + +<P> +"Forget it, Kohinoor. Case of mistaken identity." He grasped +McCarthy's hand and gave it a crunching grip as he added: "When you get +ready to tell me what you know I want to hear it." +</P> + +<P> +The manager did not attempt any further apology, but McCarthy felt as +if a load had been lifted from his mind. +</P> + +<P> +"I can't make any charges until I have proof," he replied steadily. +"If ever I can back up what I suspect, I'll tell you—first." +</P> + +<P> +"Swanson explained partly," said the manager. "I understand. Get in +there to-day and hustle." +</P> + +<P> +It was the final game of the trip and the Bears, with confidence +renewed, went into it determined to rush the attack and win quickly. +When the batting practice started McCarthy was surprised to find Lefty +Williams pitching to batters. He faced Williams and hit the first ball +hard and straight over second base. Williams was lobbing the ball +easily, as if warming up. Twice Clancy called to him to quit pitching +to batters, and he shouted back that his shoulder felt a little stiff +and he wanted to limber it up easily. McCarthy stepped to the plate +again. Up to that time Williams had not pitched a fast ball, but he +wound up quickly and flashed a fast-breaking ball straight at +McCarthy's head. The third baseman dropped flat and the ball, just +grazing the top of his head, carried away his cap. He knew Williams +had tried to hit him. He remembered his part in the deeper game he and +Swanson were playing, and he decided not to reveal the fact that he was +aware of Williams's intent. He leaped back into batters' position and +yelled: +</P> + +<P> +"Keep that bean ball for the game. You'll need it." +</P> + +<P> +He saw that Williams was white and shaken, and the next ball came +floating over the plate without speed. McCarthy swung at it, without +attempting to hit it. Another slow one floated over the plate and +again McCarthy made a burlesque swing, missing the ball a foot. +Williams flushed scarlet and stepping quickly back into position he +drove a straight fast ball at the batter. McCarthy was on his guard. +Drawing back slightly he allowed the ball to touch his shirt, and when +Williams, angrier than ever, hurled another fast one at him he stepped +back and drove it to left field for a clean hit. +</P> + +<P> +As he hit the ball he heard Clancy call angrily to Williams to come off +the slab, and the pitcher, white with anger at the contempt the recruit +had shown for his pitching, sullenly obeyed. +</P> + +<P> +"That fellow tried three times to bean you," said Swanson in low tones +as they walked to their positions after retiring runless in the first +inning. +</P> + +<P> +"I know it," said McCarthy. "I coaxed him along. I think we can make +him pitch to-day by telling him that we don't think he can." +</P> + +<P> +The plan was adopted. For two innings the shortstop and third baseman +harassed the pitcher. +</P> + +<P> +Under the running fire of taunts, criticisms and sarcasm Williams +pitched harder and harder, furious at his teammates, and venting his +anger upon opposing batsmen. +</P> + +<P> +"Say, you guys," remarked Kennedy on the bench after the fourth inning. +"Have some pity on me. You've got Adonis so mad he's smashing my mitt +with his speed. Better ease off on him or you'll have him in the air." +</P> + +<P> +The Bears had accumulated two runs and seemed winning easily in the +fifth, when, before a runner was out, McCarthy, cutting across in front +of Swanson to scoop an easy-bounding ball, played it too carelessly, +fumbled and allowed the first batter to reach first base. The error +was common enough, but allowing the first batter to reach a base on an +easy chance was serious at that stage of the game. Williams turned +upon McCarthy and gave him a violent rebuke. McCarthy was not in a +position to respond. He saw that, in spite of his angry words, +Williams seemed pleased by the error. An instant later a drive whizzed +past him and then another screamed by him en route to left field. A +run was across the plate, runners on first and third and no one out. +</P> + +<P> +"Trying to toss off this one?" demanded Swanson angrily. "You big +stiff, pitch ball." +</P> + +<P> +The next batter sacrificed, and again Williams broke the ball low and +inside the plate to a right-handed hitter. The ball came like a shot +at McCarthy, who dived at it. It rolled away toward Swanson, who +recovered just in time to throw out the runner at first, but another +run had counted and the score was tied. Another hit screeched past +McCarthy, another run counted and the Travelers were one run ahead +before the attack could be stopped. +</P> + +<P> +The Travelers held their advantage to the eighth, when, rallying +desperately, the Bears drove home two runs by sheer force of hitting +and the ninth found them hanging to a one-run lead. They failed to +increase their advantage in the first half of the inning and took the +field determined to hold their lead. McCarthy was puzzled. He thought +Clancy knew what was happening on the field and had expected each +inning that the manager would rebuke Williams when they returned to the +bench. Instead Clancy had remained strangely silent. +</P> + +<P> +Tuttle, the first batter for the Travelers in the ninth inning, hit a +fierce bounder down the third-base line. McCarthy, knowing Tuttle to +be a right field hitter, was swung a little wide from the base. He +threw himself out toward the line, his hands extended to the full +limit, and the ball stuck in one outstretched hand. Scrambling to his +feet he threw hard and fast to first, retiring the speedy runner by a +step. The next batter hit fiercely between third and short and +Swanson, by a great play, retrieved the ball back on the edge of the +grass, but could not throw the runner out. The next batter, a +right-hander, hit a vicious single past McCarthy and there were runners +on second and first. +</P> + +<P> +McCarthy felt the next drive would be toward him. He believed Williams +was striving to lose the game, and that he was pitching so as to compel +the batters to hit in the direction of third base so that the baseman +and not he would be held responsible for the defeat. He gritted his +teeth and crouched, waiting, as Watson, the heaviest-hitting +right-handed batter in the league, faced Williams. Crouching, he saw +Kennedy signal for a fast ball high and outside the plate, and then saw +a straight easy ball sail toward the batter, low and inside. Watson +swung. McCarthy saw a flash of light and threw up his hands just in +time to keep the ball from hitting him. The ball broke through his +hands and rolled a few feet away. His hands were numb to the wrists +from the terrific shock. He stood still one trice. Then he saw the +runners were stopped, bewildered. They had lost sight of the ball, so +rapidly had it traveled and had stopped, thinking he had caught it. He +leaped after the ball, framing the play as he touched the spinning +sphere. He could have run back to third base and forced out one, but +instead, as his numbed fingers gripped the sphere, he saw the +possibility of a double play and threw fast and straight to Swanson, on +second base, forcing out the runner coming from first. Swanson, +catching the idea of the play in an instant, hurled the ball back to +McCarthy, who grabbed it and touched out the runner coming from second, +completing a double play that brought the crowd to its feet in applause +and saved the game. +</P> + +<P> +McCarthy heard the cheers, but he was cold with suppressed anger as he +walked to where Williams was standing, and said: +</P> + +<P> +"Williams, you're a d——d crook." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap14"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XIV +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +<I>"Technicalities" on the Job</I> +</H4> + +<P> +The Bears were going home holding grimly to their claim upon first +place in the league race. With but seven games remaining to be played +all were against clubs already beaten, and five of the seven were +against clubs considerably weaker in every department. Two games were +to be played off the home grounds. +</P> + +<P> +The statisticians were busy calculating that the Bears had a decided +advantage in the race, yet they were not happy in the homecoming. The +ride home was only a few hours long, and they had caught the train +immediately after the sensational finish of the final game with the +Travelers in order to reach home and get settled by midnight. +</P> + +<P> +Swanson and McCarthy sat together as the train pulled out, talking in +low tones. +</P> + +<P> +"I think Clancy is onto him," said Swanson. "Just sit tight. It isn't +our move yet. The Boss acted queerly on the bench to-day and has been +watching Williams all the time, while pretending not to. I'm going to +mingle and see if any of the other fellows are wise to him." +</P> + +<P> +Hardly had Swanson left the seat than McCarthy was surprised by +"Technicalities" Feehan, who sat down in the seat vacated by the +shortstop. +</P> + +<P> +Feehan was one of the odd characters developed by the national game, a +reporter who had traveled with the Bear teams for so many years the +players regarded him as a sort of venerable pest who hadn't seen a ball +player since Williamson's day, and never such a catcher as Mike Kelly, +a first baseman like Comisky or a fielder like Tip O'Neil. He +sometimes was called "Four Eyes," from the fact that he wore large, +steel-rimmed glasses of great thickness, and his other name was +"Technicalities." +</P> + +<P> +He was not at all interested in baseball, excepting as a business. His +chief interest was in the Children's Crusades, and he had spent eight +years of his spare time in libraries all over America digging out data +for his history of those remarkable pilgrimages which he had written +and rewritten half a dozen times. Not being a baseball fan he was +eminently fair and unprejudiced, and the players thought more of the +quiet, studious fellow than they did of the excitable and the partisan +reporters who joined their sports and their woes. +</P> + +<P> +"Mr. McCarthy," he said seriously, "did you observe anything strange in +to-day's game?" +</P> + +<P> +"Several strange things," assented McCarthy. "Among them that error I +made early in the game." +</P> + +<P> +"I mean things of an unusual nature," persisted Technicalities. "I was +struck by an odd phenomenon and thought perhaps you noticed it. I find +it more perplexing as I study my score books." +</P> + +<P> +"What was it?" inquired McCarthy, cautious not to betray any interest. +</P> + +<P> +"Did you, for instance, observe anything strange about the hits in your +direction?" +</P> + +<P> +"I noticed that those that didn't have cayenne pepper on them were +white hot and came like greased lightning," laughed McCarthy. "I +expected to find my right leg playing left field any minute." +</P> + +<P> +"I was speaking numerically, although, of course, the speed of the hits +enters into the phenomenon." +</P> + +<P> +"They did seem to be coming my way rapidly," agreed the third baseman. +</P> + +<P> +"In to-day's game I find," continued the statistician, "that there were +eighteen batted balls hit in the direction of third base. You had five +assists and one error and caught two line drives. I do not include +foul balls, of which six line drives went near third base. Of these +eighteen batted balls, fourteen were hit by right-handed batters and +four by left-handers. The fourteen right-handed batters hit balls +pitched inside the plate, the four left-handers hit balls outside the +plate, that is, outside to them, so that practically every ball batted +toward you was pitched to the inside of the plate, that is, the +catcher's left. I have checked these statistics and find them correct." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, what of it?" asked McCarthy. +</P> + +<P> +"In the preceding games—in which you played third and in which +Williams has pitched—I find that an average of twelve and a fraction +batted balls per game have been hit toward third base, exclusive of +fouls. In the games in which you have played and in which Williams has +not pitched the average is six and a trifling fraction. You have +averaged seven and one-fourth chances per game—legitimate +chances—with Williams pitching, and a trifle under three chances per +game when he was not pitching. Does it not seem remarkable?" +</P> + +<P> +"Perhaps so," assented McCarthy. "I never studied such statistics." +</P> + +<P> +"The phenomenon is the more remarkable," added the strange little man, +"because the average chances per game of the third basemen of five +leagues, two majors and three Class AA for the last five years has been +2 and 877-998. It is impossible to construe the figures to mean but +one of two things." +</P> + +<P> +"What are they?" asked McCarthy, curiously interested. +</P> + +<P> +"Either it is mere coincidence or Williams is deliberately trying to +lose this pennant and to make you shoulder the blame." +</P> + +<P> +"That's a pretty stiff charge," remarked McCarthy, amazed at the +deductions of the reporter, which fitted so well the suspicion, +gradually becoming a certainty to his mind. +</P> + +<P> +"Either he is pitching purposely to make the opposing batters hit balls +at you," insisted Feehan, "or it just happened—and things do not just +happen in baseball with that regularity." +</P> + +<P> +"Possibly he is wild and can't get the ball over the plate." +</P> + +<P> +"On the contrary," persisted Feehan, "he has perfect control. If he +did not possess control he could not pitch so many balls to the same +place." +</P> + +<P> +"I'm immensely grateful," said McCarthy, touched by the kindness of the +odd reporter. "It's good of you and I shan't forget it." +</P> + +<P> +"I deserve no thanks," insisted Feehan. "It's merely in the line of +square dealing and justice—and, speaking of justice, McCarthy, did you +ever take interest in the Children's Crusades? Let me show you some of +the data I dug up recently"—— +</P> + +<P> +He delved into his little bag, which was his constant companion, and, +drawing forth a mass of scattered, disordered notes, he went into +raptures of enthusiasm while describing to the player some new features +of the disappearance of the French children and of the sojourn of +hundreds of them as slaves in African harems. +</P> + +<P> +A great throng of admirers was waiting in the station to welcome the +Bears back from their successful trip. Swanson and McCarthy finally +escaped from the crowd, and, jumping into a taxicab, were whirled to +the hotel, where Swanson had secured rooms for both. +</P> + +<P> +The hour was growing late, but after they had deposited their baggage +in their rooms, Swanson proposed a walk and a late supper. It was +McCarthy's first visit to the city which he represented upon the ball +field and its magnificence and greatness made him forget the worries +and troubles of which he seemed the center. He even forgot to detail +to his chum his strange interview with the reporter until they were +seated in a quiet nook of one of the great restaurants. Then, in +response to some jesting allusion to the Children's Crusades by +Swanson, he told the big shortstop of the array of statistics Feehan +had presented. +</P> + +<P> +"He's a square little guy," said Swanson. "And he's got more brains in +that funny-looking little head of his than this whole bunch has. He +dopes things out pretty nearly right, and when he is convinced that he +is right he goes the limit. Between us there is a certain left-handed +pitcher who is in hot water right now and don't know it. Speaking of +the devil," he added quickly, "there's his wings flapping, and look who +he is with—across the far corner there, at the little table." +</P> + +<P> +McCarthy's eyes followed the route indicated and suddenly he lost +interest in his food. At a small table were Williams, Secretary +Tabor—and Betty Tabor. +</P> + +<P> +McCarthy was silent and moody during the walk back to the hotel and +seemed to have lost interest in the great glaring city, which was just +commencing to dim its illumination for the night. They were in bed +with the lights out when Swanson said: +</P> + +<P> +"Cut out the worrying, kid. I wouldn't have a girl no one else wanted. +Besides, either her father has been told by Clancy to watch that crook +or else Betty Tabor is stringing him along to learn something. She +despises Williams, and she wouldn't laugh at him or eat with him unless +she had a purpose in it." +</P> + +<P> +McCarthy could have blessed him for the words, but he assumed a dignity +he did not feel and said: +</P> + +<P> +"I don't see why I should be especially interested." +</P> + +<P> +"Cut out the con stuff, Bo," laughed Swanson, relapsing into his old +careless baseball phraseology. "You dope around like a chicken with +the pip and look at her like a seasick guy seeing the Statue of Liberty +and then think no one is onto you." +</P> + +<P> +Reply seemed inadvisable, so McCarthy grunted and rolled over. There +was a silence and then Swanson added: +</P> + +<P> +"And say, Bo, this Williams is in trouble. There's me and you on his +track. Clancy is wise and watching him. Old Technicalities has him +doped crooked in the figures, and now Betty Tabor is smiling at him to +get the facts—he hasn't a chance. It's darn hard to fix a baseball +game." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap15"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XV +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +<I>Baldwin Baits a Trap</I> +</H4> + +<P> +"Willie says that one petticoat will ruin the best ball club that ever +lived, but lands knows that if some of us women don't get busy right +away there's one ball club that's goin' to be ruined without any +rustlin' skirts to be blamed." +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. William Clancy, her ample form loosely enveloped in a huge, +flowered kimono, dropped her fancy work into her lap and fanned herself +with a folded newspaper. +</P> + +<P> +"Why, Mother Clancy," ejaculated Betty Tabor, sitting on a stool by the +window of the Clancy apartment, "one would think to hear you talk that +we had lost the pennant already." +</P> + +<P> +"Now, there's Willie," continued Mrs. Clancy, ignoring the protest, +"goin' round with a grouch on all the time like he could bite nails in +two. There's that nice McCarthy boy frettin' his heart out because you +haven't treated him nicely, and Swanson worryin' about something. And +there's Williams sneakin' round like he'd been caught robbin' a hen +roost." +</P> + +<P> +"Mother Clancy," protested the girl, reddening, "you have no right to +say I haven't been treating Mr. McCarthy well. A girl cannot throw +herself at a man—especially an engaged man." +</P> + +<P> +"How do you know he's engaged?" demanded Mrs. Clancy. "Lands sakes, I +haven't heard him announcing his engagement, and he looks at you across +the dining room as sad as a calf chewing a dish rag." +</P> + +<P> +"I overheard—I saw the girl," admitted Betty Tabor, blushing as she +bowed her pretty head over her work. "She was telling him she wouldn't +marry him if he continued to play ball—besides, Mr. Williams met her +uncle, and he said they were engaged." +</P> + +<P> +"Is she pretty?" demanded Mrs. Clancy. +</P> + +<P> +"Beautiful," admitted Miss Tabor. "She's tall and fair and graceful, +and she had on such a wonderful gown all trimmed"—— +</P> + +<P> +"It looks to me," interrupted Mrs. Clancy, cutting off the description +of the dressmaking details heartlessly, "as if someone was just +jealous." +</P> + +<P> +"Why, Mother Clancy," said the girl, shocked and red, "you must think +me perfectly frightful to believe I'd act that way." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, girls your age are all fools," said Mrs. Clancy complacently. "I +reckon I was myself at your age. Why, if Willie even spoke to another +girl I'd go out and hunt up two beaux just to show him I didn't care. +You went out with Williams when we came in last night, didn't you?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes; he asked papa and me to late supper," the girl admitted. "But it +really wasn't what you think. I wanted to find out something from +him—something that's been worrying me." +</P> + +<P> +"Did you find out?" asked the older woman skeptically. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know, Mother Clancy." The girl's face grew troubled. "I'm +worried. I know Mr. Williams hasn't any money. Papa says he is so +reckless he always is in debt, and lately, whenever he talks to me, he +talks about the big sums he's going to have. I asked papa what it was, +and he only grunted." +</P> + +<P> +"He'd better pitch a lot better than he has been if he's counting on +any of that world's series money," remarked Mrs. Clancy savagely. +"McCarthy saved yesterday's game twice." +</P> + +<P> +"You think Mr. Williams didn't want to win the game?" The girl's voice +was tense with anxiety. +</P> + +<P> +"I hate to say it—but it looked that way." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Mother Clancy, I haven't dared to say a word to anyone about it," +said the girl hesitatingly, "but I've been afraid for days. He said +something to me that almost frightened me. He hinted that Mr. McCarthy +was losing games on purpose. I didn't believe it—and somehow I got +the idea Mr. Williams was betting on the Panthers." +</P> + +<P> +"Now, you just keep your mouth shut about this," replied Mrs. Clancy, +pressing her lips together determinedly. "I've had that same idea, and +I think that's what's worryin' Willie. You just lead that fellow on to +talk and I'll put a bug in Willie's ear. Only," she added, "Willie is +likely to snap my head off for buttin' into his business. He's got to +know, though." +</P> + +<P> +Clancy came into the apartment soon afterward and Betty Tabor, making a +hasty excuse, gathered up her fancy work. +</P> + +<P> +"It's going to rain," remarked Clancy resignedly. "I think the game +will be called off. If the game's off, I've got tickets to a theatre, +and you and mother and I can go. Which one of the boys shall I ask to +go with us?" +</P> + +<P> +"If you don't mind," replied Betty Tabor steadily, "ask Mr. Williams." +</P> + +<P> +The rain came down steadily and before one o'clock the contest was +called off. The postponement was believed to lessen slightly the +chances of the Bears to win the pennant, and they lounged dismally +around the hotel, watching the bulletin board record the fact that the +Panthers were winning easily, giving them the lead in the race by a +small fraction in percentage. +</P> + +<P> +Manager Clancy, his wife and Betty Tabor, with Williams rode away in a +taxicab to the theatre. McCarthy declined Swanson's proposal to play +billiards, and, going to their rooms, he commenced to read. Presently +five of the players trooped in, led by Swanson, to play poker, and, +shoving McCarthy's bed aside, ignoring his protests, they dragged out +chairs and tables and started the game. Scarcely had they started when +the telephone bell rang and Swanson answered: +</P> + +<P> +"No, he's not up here," he said. "No. Who wants him? All right, put +them on. Hello! Who is this? Oh, all right. No, Williams isn't +here. Yes, I'm sure. He went out with the manager an hour ago—to a +theatre, I think. All right. I'll tell him." +</P> + +<P> +"Fellows," he said, as he hung up the receiver, "some friends want +Williams to meet them as soon as he can. He'll know where. Fellow +says it's important." +</P> + +<P> +He glanced meaningly at McCarthy, who nodded to show that he +understood, and as he sat down he remarked: +</P> + +<P> +"Kohinoor, I guess it's up to us to go to a show or something to-night." +</P> + +<P> +"All right," replied McCarthy, striving vainly to continue his reading, +while puzzling over the fresh development. +</P> + +<P> +At that same instant there was an acrimonious conversation in progress +in the room from which the telephone summons for Williams had just +come. Easy Ed Edwards hung up after his brief talk with the player at +the other end of the line, an ugly gleam in his cold eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"He isn't there," he reported to Barney Baldwin, who was sitting by the +table, jangling the ice in a high-ball glass. "Either he's trying to +cross us or he's playing wise and keeping his stand-in with the +manager." +</P> + +<P> +"Sure he isn't trying to cross us?" asked Baldwin. "He won yesterday's +game instead of losing as he agreed to do." +</P> + +<P> +"He tried hard enough to lose it," sneered the gambler. "He tossed up +the ball and those dubs couldn't beat him. I tell you you've got to +handle that red-headed kid at third base as you promised you would. He +saved that game twice. We've got to get rid of him." +</P> + +<P> +"He's stubborn," snarled Baldwin. "I tried to get him to quit the team +and go back home. He's as bull-headed as his uncle, and that's the +limit." +</P> + +<P> +"You know who he is?" queried the gambler in surprise. "Why don't you +tell the newspaper boys and show him up. That would finish him. He's +under cover with his identity, and if we can prove he hasn't any right +to play with the Bears they'll have to throw out the games he's won." +</P> + +<P> +"That's just the trouble," replied Baldwin bitterly. "He's straight as +a string. He never played ball except at college. We can't tell who +he is because that would prove he's all right and make him stronger +than ever." +</P> + +<P> +"Who is he?" inquired the gambler. +</P> + +<P> +"He's the nephew of old Jim Lawrence, of Oregon, one of the richest men +out there. Lawrence is his guardian. They had some sort of a run-in +and the boy left." +</P> + +<P> +"How do you know these things?" demanded the gambler. +</P> + +<P> +"The boy and my niece were sweethearts at home. I coaxed her to tell +me when I discovered she knew him. They were engaged once, I +understand, but it was broken off." +</P> + +<P> +"Then," said Edwards determinedly, "get your niece on the job. If +anyone can handle that fellow a woman can." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, I say," protested Baldwin, with a show of indignation, "I can't +ask her to get into anything like this." +</P> + +<P> +"She probably was willing enough to get into it until she thought the +boy didn't have any money," replied Edwards coldly. "I don't want the +girl to do anything wrong. Just get her to make up with this McCarthy, +or whatever his name is, and get him away from this ball team for a +week. Baldwin, this is getting to be a serious matter with me, and +with you, too, if you want to hold your political power." +</P> + +<P> +"All right, all right," said Baldwin hastily. "Maybe I can persuade +the girl to help us out. I'll try." +</P> + +<P> +"You'd better succeed—if you want to send your man to the Senate," +said Edwards threateningly. +</P> + +<P> +"I'll go right away," assented the politician. +</P> + +<P> +Baldwin arose leisurely, went down to his limousine that was waiting +and ordered the man to drive home, although it was his custom to remain +downtown until late. At home he sent at once for his niece, and, after +a brief talk, during which he was careful to hint that McCarthy had +made overtures toward reconciliation with his uncle, the girl went to +the telephone. +</P> + +<P> +McCarthy, summoned to the telephone, talked for a few moments and, as +the poker game broke up, he called Swanson aside and said: +</P> + +<P> +"You'll have to go alone to-night. I've got to make a call." +</P> + +<P> +"Who is she?" asked Swanson insinuatingly. +</P> + +<P> +"Barney Baldwin's niece—and at his house." +</P> + +<P> +"Run on, Kohinoor," said the big shortstop. "I'll take Kennedy with me +and if I'm not mistaken you'll find out more than I will." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap16"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XVI +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +<I>McCarthy Makes a Call</I> +</H4> + +<P> +It was a little past seven o'clock, when McCarthy, arrayed in what +Swanson referred to as his "joy rags," which had been rescued from +impound in an express office after his first renewal of prosperity, +came out of the hotel. He was undecided, wavering as to whether or not +it was wise for him to keep the appointment to call on Helen Baldwin. +</P> + +<P> +They had met during his college career, and, after a courtship that was +a whirlwind of impetuosity on his side, she had agreed to marry him. +He recalled now, with rather bitter recollections of his own blindness, +her seemingly careless curiosity regarding the extent of the Lawrence +wealth and his own expectations. He had told her how, when his father +had died, Jim Lawrence had taken him to rear as his own child and heir. +</P> + +<P> +The boy had grown older and broadened with his short experience in the +world outside the protecting circle that had been round him in +preparatory school and in college, and he determined to write that +night to his guardian the letter he had so long delayed and to +apologize and admit that he had been headstrong and foolish. +</P> + +<P> +During the long ride uptown to the city residence of the Baldwins he +had time to think clearly. He knew that Barney Baldwin was wealthy, +but he was unprepared for the magnificence of the garish house, set +down amid wide lawns in the most exclusive part of the River Drive +section. +</P> + +<P> +Helen Baldwin entered the room in a few moments, and McCarthy gazed at +her in admiring surprise. +</P> + +<P> +She came forward with both hands outstretched, smiling, a strangely +transformed girl from the cold, half-scornful one with whom he had +parted only a short time before. +</P> + +<P> +"I wanted to see you so much, Larry," she said. "I have been so blue +and depressed since I—since we—since we last met. Why didn't you +call?" +</P> + +<P> +"I only reached the city last night," he replied as he took a seat +beside her on a divan. "And—well, Helen, I hardly thought you would +wish to see me." +</P> + +<P> +"You foolish boy," she chided. "Don't you know yet that you must never +take a girl at her word? Of course, I was annoyed to find you playing +baseball with a professional team, but I didn't mean we never were to +meet again." +</P> + +<P> +"I thought your ultimatum settled all that," he answered, ill at ease. +"It was rather a shock to find that you cared more for what I was than +for what I am." +</P> + +<P> +"You know, Larry, that you placed me in a painful position. It isn't +as if I were a rich girl, able to share with the man I love. My father +and mother are not rich, and Uncle Barney has supplied me with +everything. He has spoiled me—and I would make a wretched wife for a +poor man." +</P> + +<P> +"I would not have proposed marriage," said McCarthy quietly, "unless I +had thought I would be able to provide for you as well as your uncle +could. When circumstances were changed I could not ask you to +sacrifice yourself unless you were willing—unless you cared enough for +me to adapt yourself to the circumstances." +</P> + +<P> +"But, Larry, aren't you going to quit all this foolishness and go back? +Haven't you been reconciled with Mr. Lawrence?" she asked in surprise. +</P> + +<P> +"I expect to go back after the season is over and tell him how sorry I +am that I caused him trouble." +</P> + +<P> +"Please go, Larry. You'll go to please me, won't you?" she said +appealingly. +</P> + +<P> +"I cannot see why it would please you to have me quit now, when I'm +most needed," he replied stiffly. "Surely you cannot know what you are +asking." +</P> + +<P> +"It is such a little thing I ask," she pouted, "I'm sure you would if +you loved me." +</P> + +<P> +The girl's eyes were filling. She had found him easy to handle by that +appeal only a few short months before, but now, as he saw her, he was +seized with a desire to laugh, as he realized that she was acting. The +words of Swanson: "You'll find out more than we will," flashed into his +mind, and he determined to meet acting with acting. +</P> + +<P> +"Perhaps, Helen," he said softly, "if you could explain just why you +want me to quit playing I could see my way to do it." +</P> + +<P> +"That is being a sensible boy," she said, bathing her eyes with a bit +of lace. "I don't like to see you making an exhibition of yourself +before a crowd—for money." She shrugged her beautiful shoulders +disdainfully. +</P> + +<P> +"Is that all?" he asked quietly. +</P> + +<P> +"All? Isn't it enough? And then there's Mr. Lawrence. I know he is +worrying about you." +</P> + +<P> +"Any other reasons?" he inquired. +</P> + +<P> +"Then there's Uncle Barney"—— +</P> + +<P> +"What has Barney Baldwin to do with it?" His voice was sharp, and the +girl hesitated under his steady scrutiny. +</P> + +<P> +"You mustn't speak that way of my uncle," she said reprovingly. "I'm +sure he's only interested in you because of me. He says it is +imperative that you do not play any more with the Bears." +</P> + +<P> +"Then Barney Baldwin ordered you to telephone for me to come here?" he +asked harshly. +</P> + +<P> +"He merely wanted me to persuade you to quit that ridiculous game and +go back to Mr. Lawrence right away. He was only trying to save you." +</P> + +<P> +For an instant he sat staring at the girl steadily. Then he said +slowly: +</P> + +<P> +"What a fool I've been." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Larry, Larry!" she exclaimed, frightened by his manner. "What's +the matter—is anything wrong?" +</P> + +<P> +"Nothing wrong," he said, laughing mirthlessly. "Nothing wrong. You +may tell your uncle, with my compliments, that I will continue to play +with the Bears to the end of the season, and that, in spite of him and +his dirty work we will win that pennant." +</P> + +<P> +He arose and passed into the hall without a backward glance, ignoring +the sobs of the girl, who buried her face in her handkerchief and wept +gracefully, telling him between sobs that he was cruel. He took his +hat from the servant and strode rapidly down the steps, his mind a +turmoil of emotions. +</P> + +<P> +How far did the plot to beat the Bears out of the pennant extend? How +many were in it? Gradually he commenced to draw connected thoughts +from the chaos of his brain. He realized that he was the storm center +of a plot and that he was dealing with dangerous enemies. +</P> + +<P> +The girl he had left so abruptly continued her stifled, stagey sobs +until she heard the front door close. Then she sat up quickly, glanced +at her features in a wall mirror, brushed back a lock of ruffled hair +and rubbed her eyes lightly with her kerchief. +</P> + +<P> +"How he has changed," she said to herself. "He is getting masterful, +and three months ago one pout was enough. I could almost love +him—even without old Jim Lawrence's money. +</P> + +<P> +"At any rate," she said, looking at the handsome solitaire on her +finger, "I can keep the ring. He never mentioned it. I must go tell +Uncle Barney." +</P> + +<P> +She ran lightly up the stairs to the den where Baldwin, smoking +impatiently, was waiting for her. +</P> + +<P> +"Well?" he inquired. "Did you land him?" +</P> + +<P> +"Don't speak so vulgarly, Uncle Barney," the girl replied. "No, I did +not. He has grown stubborn. He told me to tell you he intended to +keep on playing to the end of the season, and that they would win—I've +forgotten what he said they would win. Does it make much difference, +just these few more games?" +</P> + +<P> +"Does it make any difference?" he stormed. "Any difference—why, you +fool, my whole political future may be ruined by that red-headed idiot. +Get out of here. I'm going to telephone." +</P> + +<P> +The girl, weeping in earnest now, hurried from the room as Barney +Baldwin seized the telephone. A moment later he was saying: +</P> + +<P> +"Hello, Ed. She fell down. He's stubborn and says he'll keep on +playing. You'd better see your man and break that story in the +newspaper. What? They got him? Where? Well, then, they've got the +wrong man. McCarthy left my house not five minutes ago." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap17"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XVII. +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +<I>The Fight in the Café</I> +</H4> + +<P> +Swanson left the hotel intending to pursue his volunteer detective work +only a few moments after McCarthy started uptown to respond to the +invitation of Miss Baldwin. He had remained lounging around the lobby +talking with Kennedy, the big catcher, until he saw Williams leave the +hotel by a side entrance and enter a street car. Then he signaled +Kennedy and they strolled out together and caught the next car. +</P> + +<P> +"It's Williams we're going to trail," was the only hint Swanson would +give at the start. +</P> + +<P> +"Williams?" snorted Kennedy. "You told me there was a chance for a +scrap. That guy won't fight." +</P> + +<P> +"Maybe those he's going to see will," replied Swanson encouragingly. +</P> + +<P> +Swanson did not know then that, only a short time before he made his +arrangement with Kennedy, Williams had pleaded over the telephone to +Edwards that he was afraid to meet him that evening, as requested, +because he thought Clancy might discover the fact and that Clancy was +already suspicious. Williams pretended alarm and convinced Edwards +that there was danger of someone following the pitcher, and on his way +to keep the appointment to meet the athlete he had drawn into the toils +of the conspiracy, he stopped at his gambling room and ordered Jack, a +big ex-prizefighter, to follow him to the meeting place and to keep +watch during the conference. +</P> + +<P> +It was growing dark when Edwards strolled slowly across town toward the +rendezvous. Williams's fear of being upbraided when he met the gambler +on that evening was unfounded. The gambler was convinced that the +pitcher had made every effort to lose the game and that he had been +balked only by luck and the fielding of McCarthy. He wanted to learn +from Williams whether or not there was any other player on the team who +could be bribed into assisting in the plot. +</P> + +<P> +Swanson and Kennedy trailing cautiously saw Williams jump off the car +and walk along the sidewalk, and, after riding past him, they descended +and walked along the opposite side of the street, keeping close in the +shadows of the tall buildings. A block further downtown they saw +Williams stop, look around suspiciously as if to see whether or not +anyone was following him, then turn up the side street and enter a +café. Swanson quickly led the way. They passed the saloon on the +opposite side of the street, and after walking half a block they +retraced their steps and stopped in a doorway opposite the entrance. +</P> + +<P> +"Let's wait here and see who goes in," suggested Swanson. +</P> + +<P> +"Whom do you expect him to meet?" inquired Kennedy. +</P> + +<P> +"Edwards," vouchsafed Swanson grudgingly. "He has been meeting that +crook for ten days now, and I want to find out what they're up to." +</P> + +<P> +"Why didn't you tell me before?" demanded Kennedy. "I'd kick his head +off"—— +</P> + +<P> +"We hadn't the goods on him," explained Swanson. "That's what I want +you for. If we can prove he's up to some crooked work"—— +</P> + +<P> +The big Swede menacingly folded his ponderous paw into a fist and +flexed his biceps. +</P> + +<P> +"Do you think he's trying to throw games? He's been pitching funny +ball lately," asked Kennedy. "I've had to fight him in every game to +get him to pitch fast." +</P> + +<P> +"What I think and what I can prove are different things," growled the +shortstop. "I've got my suspicions. Now we're after proof. Come on. +If he was to meet anyone there the one he was to meet is in ahead of +him." +</P> + +<P> +The players walked to the corner, crossed the street and went into the +saloon without an effort at concealment. The place appeared empty, +save for a bartender who was washing glasses behind the bar, and a +heavy, coarse-featured man lounging near the end of the bar with a +half-consumed high ball before him. +</P> + +<P> +"Gimme a beer," ordered Swanson, throwing a coin onto the bar; "what +you have, Ben?" +</P> + +<P> +"Make it two," replied Kennedy. +</P> + +<P> +There was no sign of Williams, and only a narrow doorway, leading +somewhere toward the rear, gave a clue as to his probable egress from +the barroom. +</P> + +<P> +The bartender, having rung up the amount of the sale on the cash +register, exchanged a few words in a low tone with the man at the end. +Then he strolled back and stood near where Swanson and Kennedy were +wasting time over their drinks. +</P> + +<P> +"We were expecting to meet a friend here to-night," remarked Swanson, +deciding to take a new tack with the bartender. "Rather tall, slender +young fellow. Has anyone been in?" +</P> + +<P> +"Young fellow came in a while ago something like that," replied the +bartender. "Seemed to be expecting someone, but turned around and went +out. Maybe that was him." +</P> + +<P> +They knew he was lying, and Swanson, without changing expression, said: +</P> + +<P> +"Must have thought he was in the wrong place, or too early. Maybe +he'll come back. We'll stick around awhile." +</P> + +<P> +Had they known what was transpiring in the private room just beyond the +doorway their interest would have been greater. The big man who had +stood at the end of the bar had gone at the first opportunity and was +reporting to Easy Ed Edwards, who grew venomous with hate, while +Williams sat shaking with fright. +</P> + +<P> +"I knew they'd get on. If they report to Clancy I'm done for," he said. +</P> + +<P> +"Shut up," ordered the gambler angrily. "They haven't seen you and +they don't know I'm here. Who are they, Jack?" +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know dem," said the ex-fighter. "Dey's a big, husky lookin' +guy, a Dutchman, I guess, wid a blue suit"—— +</P> + +<P> +"It's Swanson," said Williams. "He's been looking at me as if he knew +something for two or three days. He has followed me here." +</P> + +<P> +"De oder one is a smaller, wiry sort o' guy. Got on a light suit"—— +</P> + +<P> +"It must be McCarthy," whined Williams. "He's always with Swanson. +They're looking for me. I wish I had kept out of this." +</P> + +<P> +"Listen," ordered Edwards coldly. "This fellow McCarthy is the one we +want. If we can get him out of the way it'll be easy and I can get +even with that big, fat lobster, Baldwin, for trying to double cross +me. Jack, you go out there and get in a mix-up with them and take a +poke at the little fellow that'll keep him from playing ball for a +week. Is the bartender a friend of yours?" +</P> + +<P> +"One of me best pals," replied the ex-fighter. "Leaf it to me. I'll +land de punch dat'll fix dat fresh, young guy." +</P> + +<P> +The fighter strolled back to the barroom and resumed his stand at the +end of the bar, eyeing the two ball players. As he tapped the bar the +bartender walked to him. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm goin' to start somethin'," said Jack in a low tone. "Ed wants me +to punch de head offen dat youngest one." +</P> + +<P> +"That big guy looks hard to handle," commented the bartender. "Make it +quick. I don't like no rough house here. The license ain't any too +safe now." +</P> + +<P> +"I'm going back to see what's there," whispered Kennedy to Swanson. +"You stick here. I'll bluff it through." +</P> + +<P> +He walked toward the door leading back from the bar and started to pass +through it. +</P> + +<P> +"Here, young feller," said the bartender, "where you goin'?" +</P> + +<P> +"Washroom," replied Kennedy, keeping on through the door. +</P> + +<P> +"Naw you don't. Come back outen there," ordered the fighter angrily. +</P> + +<P> +"Who appointed you boss?" asked Kennedy belligerently. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I'm boss anywhere I goes," declared the big fellow. "Youse stay +outen there. D'ye hear?" +</P> + +<P> +He grabbed the ball player by the arm—and at that instant Kennedy +swung. His fist caught the bruiser squarely on the mouth and he reeled +back, then, with a bellow of rage, he sprang at Kennedy. +</P> + +<P> +With a roar of anger Swanson hurled himself into the fray. Kennedy's +fist had caught the ex-fighter and cut his cheek open and blood spurted +upon both as they fought, the frail partition swaying under their +weight. Swanson leaped with his arm drawn for a knock-out blow, just +as Jack's right caught Kennedy upon the jaw and dropped him to the +floor helpless. The blow the Swede had aimed at the fighter hit him +upon the shoulder and slid over his head, and Jack, whirling, faced his +new adversary. Swanson sprang to close quarters with the giant and his +fist thudded home. Jack, groggy and already half spent from his +exertions, clinched and hung on. The Swede, now a man gone mad with +the lust of battle, shook him off, hurled the giant backward against +the partition, and, crouching, he prepared to swing his right, waiting +for the opening to the jaw, while Jack, groggy and half dazed, covered +his head with his arms and swayed. The blow never landed. Suddenly it +seemed to Swanson as if the worlds were crashing around his head. +Bright stars danced before his eyes, his knees gave way beneath him, +and with a foolish laugh he sank to the floor and rolled, helpless, +beside his fallen comrade. His last recollection was of hearing a +telephone bell jangling somewhere. +</P> + +<P> +The ringing of the telephone bell that Swanson heard as he lapsed into +unconsciousness was the call of Barney Baldwin for Ed Edwards. The +gambler, who, with his frightened companion, had heard the sounds of +the terrific struggle in the barroom sink into silence, spoke rapidly +for an instant, then, as Baldwin said: "They've got the wrong man," he +hung up the receiver with an oath and leaped toward the doorway. He +emerged upon a tableau showing his slugger, half dazed and hanging to +the partition for support, two figures inert upon the floor and the +bartender coolly walking back toward the bar, carrying a heavy +bung-starter in his hand, that explained the sudden ending of the fight. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap18"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XVIII +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +<I>Two Missing Men</I> +</H4> + +<P> +The disappearance of Silent Swanson and Ben Kennedy brought +consternation to the ranks of the Bears, consternation that increased +as the hour for starting the first game of the series against the +Jackrabbits drew near. McCarthy, returning to the rooms after his +surprising interview with Helen Baldwin, was determined to tell his +chum all that had taken place and to explain as well as was possible +the position in which he found himself. He planned to urge Swanson to +go with him to Clancy, and for that reason he postponed taking the +manager into his confidence. +</P> + +<P> +He hastened downstairs to breakfast, half expecting to find his chum +waiting for him in the dining room with an account of the night's +events. He finished breakfast in a troubled state of mind, and, after +wandering around the lobby for nearly an hour in the vain hope that +Swanson would appear, he encountered Noisy Norton, who appeared +disturbed and distressed. +</P> + +<P> +"Say," said Norton, "seen Kennedy?" +</P> + +<P> +"No—seen Swanson?" +</P> + +<P> +"They went out together," said Norton, with an unusual burst of +conversation. +</P> + +<P> +"Didn't Kennedy come home either?" asked McCarthy in fresh alarm. +</P> + +<P> +"No." +</P> + +<P> +They sat silent for some time, then Noisy said: +</P> + +<P> +"Something wrong." +</P> + +<P> +"What'll we do?" asked McCarthy anxiously. +</P> + +<P> +"Tell Clancy," said Norton, with an effort. +</P> + +<P> +They ascended the elevator together and rapped at Clancy's door. +</P> + +<P> +"Mr. Clancy," said McCarthy, when the manager had bade them enter, "I +ought to have come to you before. Swanson and Kennedy are missing. +They didn't come in last night—and we're worried." +</P> + +<P> +"Where were they?" demanded the manager quickly. +</P> + +<P> +"I was going with Swanson on an errand last night," said McCarthy. "We +were working on that matter that caused trouble the other day. Then I +had a telephone call and went to see a—a friend of mine. Swanson said +he'd take Kennedy with him. They left the hotel together, Norton tells +me, and they haven't come home." +</P> + +<P> +"Either of them drinking?" asked Clancy sharply. +</P> + +<P> +"Beer—sometimes—not often," said Norton. +</P> + +<P> +"Swanson hasn't been drinking at all," declared McCarthy. "Neither of +them would go off on a tear at this stage of the game." +</P> + +<P> +"You're right, Kohinoor," said Clancy worriedly. "It's something else. +They'll show up, all right. Thank you for telling me, boys, and don't +say anything about it." +</P> + +<P> +In spite of their silence, however, the rumor that the star catcher and +the shortstop were missing spread through the team. By noon the +players were openly discussing the whereabouts of the two players. +Clancy showed his anxiety. +</P> + +<P> +"Can't you tell me where they were going, Kohinoor?" he asked. "I +don't want to press you to reveal anything you don't want to, but I'm +afraid those boys are in trouble." +</P> + +<P> +"I haven't any idea where they were going," replied McCarthy. "I know +that they were watching a certain fellow, and that a gambler named +Edwards was mixed up in it." +</P> + +<P> +"You've told me plenty," said the manager in low tones. "I have +suspected it all along. I'm afraid they're run afoul of Edwards and +that he has managed to get them into trouble." +</P> + +<P> +"If he has he has his nerve," said McCarthy. "Look over there. He +just came in with a party of friends. I know the big man." +</P> + +<P> +"Who is he?" inquired the manager, watching the party just entering one +of the field boxes. +</P> + +<P> +"That's Barney Baldwin, the political boss," explained McCarthy. +</P> + +<P> +"Is he in this thing, too?" inquired Clancy, starting with surprise. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, at least I think so. You see, I know his niece. It was at his +house I went to call last night. I discovered that he ordered his +niece to call me and had her try to persuade me to quit the team right +away." +</P> + +<P> +"Look here, Kohinoor," said the manager, drawing him aside so the other +players could not hear, "I'm sorry you didn't tell me this before. It +looks worse and worse all the time. He wanted you to quit—and now two +of my men disappear. You'll have to play short to-day, and we'll send +Pardridge to third. Get in there and hustle." +</P> + +<P> +Smith, the big spitball pitcher of the Bears, who had been held in +reserve, was chosen to pitch, and for three innings the teams fought +for the opening without a real chance to score. The cunning of Clancy +was shown in his choice of the big pitcher, whose speed and spitball +kept the Jackrabbit batters hitting toward right field or sending slow, +easy bounders down toward the pitcher. He had chosen Smith in order to +protect the weakened third base side of the infield, and his plan +worked well until the fourth inning, when Egbert, one of the speediest +of the Jackrabbit sprinters, hit a spitball on top and sent a slow, +weak roller toward third base. Pardridge made a desperate effort to +field the ball, but fell short, and the Jackrabbits discovered the weak +place in the defense. Two bunts rolled down the third-base line in +succession, and, although Pardridge, playing close in a desperate +effort to stop that style of attack, managed to throw out the second +bunter, runners were on second and third with but one out when +"Buckthorne" Black smashed a long hit over center for three bases and +scored an instant later on a sharp, slashing hit through Noisy Norton. +The three runs seemed to spell the doom of the Bears, and they came in +from the field angry, hot and desperate. The roar of the crowd grew +stronger when the score board showed the Panthers were winning their +game—5 to 1—from the Blues. +</P> + +<P> +McCarthy was first at bat in that inning. As he selected his bat he +glanced toward the stand and grew hot with rage at seeing Baldwin +laughing until red in the face and slapping Ed Edwards on the back. +The gambler's usually stony face wore a smile of relief. McCarthy +walked to the plate, pushed the first ball pitched down the third-base +line and outsprinted the ball to first. Norton strove to bring him +home, but his long-line drive went straight to the left fielder, and +when Holleran struck out it seemed as if the chance to score was lost +for that inning. McCarthy stood still, a few feet off first base, and, +as Randall wound up to pitch, he started at top speed for second base. +Jackson, catching for the Jackrabbits, saw him, grabbed the ball and +leaped into position to throw. Like a flash McCarthy stopped and +danced a step or two back toward first base, as if daring the catcher +to throw the ball. Jackson pretended to throw to first, and, as +McCarthy edged a step closer the base the catcher saw there was no +chance to catch him, and slowly relaxing from throwing position, he +took a step forward and started to toss the ball back to his pitcher. +In that instant McCarthy acted. He leaped forward, and, before Jackson +could recover and spring back into throwing position, the fleet Bear +was nearing second base, making a beautifully executed delayed steal. +Jackson threw, although it was too late. The ball, hurled over +hastily, broke through the second baseman's hands and rolled twenty +feet toward center field. McCarthy turned second at full speed and +raced for third, while Reilly tore after the ball, and, picking it up, +made a fast, low throw toward third. Again the ball escaped the +baseman, and McCarthy, without the loss of a stride, turned third base +and raced home, sliding under Jackson as he reached for the high-thrown +ball. +</P> + +<P> +The game had settled down to a desperate series of attacks by the +Bears, and a stubborn defense on the part of the Jackrabbits. In the +sixth and again in the seventh the Bears forced the attack, but each +time they fell short of scoring, and the eighth inning came with the +score 3 to 1 against them. Lucas, who was catching in Kennedy's place, +opened that inning, and the Bears' hope arose when he, the weakest +hitter on the team, was hit by a pitched ball. Smith drove a hard +bounder toward first, but O'Meara knocked down the ball and reached the +base in time to retire the big, lumbering pitcher, letting Lucas reach +second. Jacobsen struck out, and McCarthy, gritting his teeth, came to +bat. One strike and one ball had been called when, looking toward the +bench for a signal from Clancy, he saw a sight that made his heart +jump. In that fleeting glance he had seen Swanson, in uniform, coming +onto the bench through the little doorway under the stands. +</P> + +<P> +Swanson's eye was black and a strip of plaster extended from under his +cap onto his forehead. His face was swollen and discolored and a +bandage covered his head, showing under his cap. +</P> + +<P> +If he only could get on first base, McCarthy told himself, there was +hope, and, as the ball sped toward him he poked out his bat, dropped +another bunt toward third base, and, by a terrific burst of speed he +beat it to first base, sending Lucas to third. +</P> + +<P> +"Swanson batting for Holleran. Swanson will play shortstop, McCarthy +third base, Pardridge in left field." +</P> + +<P> +McCarthy had determined to steal second base, but the chance never +presented. The first ball that came whizzing toward the plate Swanson +hit. It went like a rocket far out to left center field. Two speedy +outfielders glanced at the flying ball, then turned and sprinted for +the outer barriers. The ball soared on and on, and with a crash struck +against the sign over the left field seats and fell back into the +throng in the bleachers, and while the crowd cheered and groaned three +Bears trotted around the bases to the plate. +</P> + +<P> +Swanson, running slowly and painfully, crossed the plate, with the +score that put the Bears in the lead. He did not stop. Straight +toward the box where Edwards and Baldwin sat, he went. His face was +terrible. They saw him coming, and Baldwin, apologetic with fear, half +arose, as if to cry for help. The gambler, white but still keeping his +nerve, shrank back a trifle, but held his seat. Swanson walked +straight to them. For an instant he towered over them threateningly, +then he said: +</P> + +<P> +"Good afternoon, gentlemen, I hope you're glad to see me." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap19"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XIX +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +<I>Swanson to the Rescue</I> +</H4> + +<P> +When Silent Swanson aroused himself from the effects of the blow on the +head from the beer mallet in the hands of the treacherous bartender, he +sat up feebly and found himself in semi-darkness. +</P> + +<P> +"Someone crowned me with a crowbar," he muttered to himself as his +brain gradually began to work normally. "They must have kicked me +after I went down." +</P> + +<P> +A faint groan from the heavy shadows near him startled him into a +realization of what had happened. He felt around for a moment and his +fingers touched the body of a man huddled against a wall. +</P> + +<P> +"It must be Ken—and he's hurt," he muttered, and crept toward his +companion. Swanson worked over him, shaking and speaking to him and +presently Kennedy stirred and sat up against the wall. +</P> + +<P> +"Where are we? What happened?" he inquired in a bewildered manner. +</P> + +<P> +"Search me," replied Swanson mournfully. "I was just getting ready to +swing the haymaker on that big fellow when the house fell. I think +someone beaned me from behind with a brick and then kicked us around. +Ouch—my ribs feel stoved in." +</P> + +<P> +"I'm sore all over," moaned Kennedy. "That fellow didn't do it all by +himself, did he?" +</P> + +<P> +"I have a dim recollection of hearing someone tell him to fix us +right," replied Swanson. "I may have dreamed it." +</P> + +<P> +"Let's get out of here," urged Swanson suddenly. "If some watchman +finds us here we'll be pinched, and it will make a nice story for the +reporters." +</P> + +<P> +"Where do you think we are?" asked Kennedy, striving to get to his feet +and groaning with every move. +</P> + +<P> +"In the alley back of the joint we were in," replied Swanson. "They +must have dragged us to the back door and dumped us." +</P> + +<P> +He had managed to get upon his feet, assisted Kennedy to arise, and +slowly and with many groans they went toward the mouth of the alley. +</P> + +<P> +"Let's go around to the front door and clean out that place," urged +Swanson, growing angry. +</P> + +<P> +Both men were commencing to recover from the effects of the cruel +treatment they had endured, and, as their injured muscles loosened +their anger arose. They made their way painfully around the block and +to the entrance of the saloon. It was locked and the place was in +total darkness. Swanson shook the barred doors without result, then +stood gazing blankly against the glass. +</P> + +<P> +"Say, Ken, we must have been knocked out for quite a while," he +remarked thoughtfully. "No one is here. They probably closed up as +soon as they threw us out—and we haven't a bit of proof against +anyone." +</P> + +<P> +"Wonder what time it is?" groaned Kennedy. "We've got to get to bed if +we want to play." +</P> + +<P> +"Holy Mackerel," exclaimed Swanson, using his favorite form of +swearing. "I forgot! That's it! Ken, after we were knocked out they +beat us to keep us from playing. Come on. We've got to forget about +fighting and get ready to play. I'll get even with someone for this." +</P> + +<P> +Swanson was thinking rapidly as they limped slowly along the darkened +streets in search of a night prowling cabman or taxi-cab, keeping a +sharp lookout for policemen, fearing they might be arrested because of +their battered condition. +</P> + +<P> +"We've got to get to somewhere we can be patched up and get some +sleep," he repeated, urging Kennedy, whose sufferings made their +progress slow. "We've got to keep those crooks from finding out where +we are. Let them think they've finished us and then show up in time to +play." +</P> + +<P> +"I don't think I can play, Silent," moaned Kennedy. "I can't drag +myself much farther." +</P> + +<P> +He was making a brave effort to keep on, and for another block Swanson +half supported him. Then he gave up and sat down upon the curbing. +</P> + +<P> +"Sit here," said Swanson quickly. "There is an all-night drug store a +couple of blocks down; I'll find a cab there." +</P> + +<P> +He limped away as rapidly as possible, and, almost before Kennedy +realized it, he returned in a taxicab. +</P> + +<P> +"Caught him just starting home," explained Swanson, as he half lifted +Kennedy into the tonneau. "He says there is a hospital less than a +mile from here where we can get treatment." +</P> + +<P> +The bruised and battered players groaned and swore under their breath, +while the cab made a rapid trip to the hospital, and half an hour later +they were resting easily in a private room, their wounds were being +washed and dressed and a young doctor was working hard to relieve their +sufferings. +</P> + +<P> +"We've got to play ball this afternoon, Doc," said Swanson, watching +the surgeon cut and wash the hair from the wound on his scalp. "Fix us +up right." +</P> + +<P> +"You'll not play ball this week," said the surgeon cheerfully. "Your +friend over there will be all right in a couple of days. He's badly +bruised and his hand is sprained, but not seriously. He's sorer than +you are, but by morning you'll be a cripple." +</P> + +<P> +"But, Doc, we've got to play," pleaded Swanson. "You've got to fix us +up." +</P> + +<P> +"I'll do all I can," remarked the surgeon. "But your right arm is +badly wrenched and bruised. The cuts won't hurt, but one of your eyes +will be out of commission for three or four days. Whose mule kicked +you?" +</P> + +<P> +Swanson, pledging the doctor to secrecy, revealed part of the truth. +</P> + +<P> +"You won't be able to play," he advised his patients, "and Kennedy must +take two days off at least." +</P> + +<P> +"I've got to play, Doc," responded Swanson, "if it's on one leg; I've +got to." +</P> + +<P> +It was a few minutes past noon when Swanson awoke with a start. The +nurse was in the room, moving about quietly, and Kennedy still slept, +moving and muttering in his sleep, as if dreaming of the battle. He +remained quiet for a few moments, and then said: +</P> + +<P> +"Nurse, please bring me my clothes." +</P> + +<P> +"You must wait until after breakfast," she said, coming to the bedside. +"Dr. Anderson was here a short time ago, and said I was to give you +your breakfast when you awoke, then call him." +</P> + +<P> +"But I'm in a hurry," protested the player. "I can't wait. They'll be +anxious about us." +</P> + +<P> +"The doctor said he would give you treatment and massage, so that you +could get out more quickly," she responded. "I'll bring breakfast and +then call him." +</P> + +<P> +Kennedy, feeling much refreshed, but too sore and stiff to move without +suffering, was awakened for breakfast, and he and Swanson discussed the +situation in low tones as they ate. +</P> + +<P> +It was past one o'clock before Swanson commenced to worry about the +failure of the doctor to come. After fuming and fretting for more than +half an hour he rang for the nurse and sent her in quest of Dr. +Anderson. She returned soon and reported that he had been summoned +suddenly to assist in performing an important operation, but that he +probably would return soon. Not until two o'clock had passed did +Swanson commence to become seriously disturbed at the failure of the +doctor to appear. A short nap had refreshed him somewhat, and when +Kennedy announced that it was past two o'clock he waited a few moments, +then commenced ringing the call bell by his bedside to summon the +nurse. There was no response, and growing angry and impatient, he rang +again and again. +</P> + +<P> +"If I only had a pair of pants," wailed the helpless giant, "I'd break +out." +</P> + +<P> +He climbed out of bed and searched the room. In his impatience he +bumped his wounded head, and blood flowed afresh from under the +bandages, and with a movement of his arm he smeared it over his face. +The giant Swede was working himself into a fury. Every few moments he +rang the bell, and a few moments before three o'clock the nurse, calm +and appearing as if nothing unusual was happening, came in. +</P> + +<P> +"Did you ring?" she inquired. +</P> + +<P> +Swanson started to explode, but stood looking at her in helpless fury. +</P> + +<P> +"Get me my clothes," he ordered in tones that frightened the girl, +trained as she was to the outbursts of patients. +</P> + +<P> +"Get me my clothes," he repeated. +</P> + +<P> +"It is against orders," she said hesitatingly. "You cannot go until +the doctor"—— +</P> + +<P> +"Get me my clothes," he half screamed. "If my clothes aren't here in +five minutes I'm going this way." +</P> + +<P> +The nurse, thoroughly alarmed by the fury of the big man, ran from the +room, and, within five minutes she returned with another nurse to +support her. +</P> + +<P> +"Where are my clothes?" he demanded in an awful voice. +</P> + +<P> +"It's against orders," said the older nurse firmly. "You cannot leave +without permission from the doctor in charge." +</P> + +<P> +For an instant it seemed as if Swanson would forget himself and become +violent. With an effort he controlled his anger and sank back upon the +pillows. +</P> + +<P> +"All right," he said resignedly, "let me telephone to the boss and +explain." +</P> + +<P> +"You are not going to quit, Silent?" demanded Kennedy, starting up in +bed. "I'll go myself"—— +</P> + +<P> +The quick wink that Swanson gave him stopped the catcher's angry +expostulation. +</P> + +<P> +"That's a good boy!" said the nurse pleasantly. "There isn't any use +to fret. I'll bring you the telephone." +</P> + +<P> +The telephone was brought, and, when the nurse left the room Swanson +called up the hotel at which they lived. +</P> + +<P> +"That you, Joe?" he said rapidly. "This is Silent—yes, in hospital. +Send a taxi to the corner as fast as you can get it here. I'll be +watching." +</P> + +<P> +He cut off the carriage clerk's curious questions by hanging up the +receiver. +</P> + +<P> +"What are you going to do?" whispered Kennedy from his bed. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm going out of here," said Swanson. He crept out of bed, and with +his face pressed against the window, watched the corner four floors +below until a taxicab stopped there and waited. Then, drawing a sheet +over his night gown, he opened the door cautiously. +</P> + +<P> +The receiving clerk had a glimpse of a ferocious looking ghost, garbed +in a white sheet, and with face smeared with blood, racing down the +hallway, and before her screams could bring help, Swanson had run +limpingly across the street, leaped into the taxi and was shouting +orders to the driver to get him to the ball park. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap20"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XX +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +<I>Hidden Foes</I> +</H4> + +<P> +The disappearance and dramatic reappearance of Swanson and Kennedy, who +was released from the hospital after the game, was the sensation of the +country for twelve hours; then it was paled into insignificance by a +new sensation that caused a wave of indignation and an insistent demand +for proof from all parts of the country and left the Bears dazed by the +series of events that crowded upon them. +</P> + +<P> +The second sensation was the printing of an article in one of the +foremost papers of their city in which the charge was made that one +member of the Bear team had been bribed; indeed, had been put on the +team with the sole end that he might throw games and force the +championship upon the Panthers. +</P> + +<P> +The article created a furore which caused the public to forget the +mysterious circumstances surrounding the disappearance of Swanson and +Kennedy. +</P> + +<P> +Although no name was mentioned, the facts set forth fitted only +McCarthy, the new third baseman, and rallied all the admirers of the +lithe red-headed boy to his side and set loose a storm of anger and +suspicion directed upon him by those who criticised his playing or +opposed him through prejudice. +</P> + +<P> +Manager Clancy, after an anxious evening and night trying to get at the +facts of the case of Swanson and Kennedy, and getting Kennedy out of +the hospital, was the first of the Bears to see the new attack. He +read the entire article from end to end, and going to his apartment he +telephoned for McCarthy, Swanson, Kennedy and Secretary Tabor to come +to his rooms at once. +</P> + +<P> +Manager Clancy was waiting, striding up and down the room restlessly +and as the three players entered, he unceremoniously shooed his wife +into the next room before she had a chance to defend her boys. +</P> + +<P> +"Fellows," said the manager quietly, "I sent for you because you seem +to know more what's going on than the others do. I suppose none of you +has read this article in this morning's paper. I'll read it to you." +</P> + +<P> +As he read, the players began to look one at the other and ejaculations +of surprise and anger came from them. When Clancy reached the portion +of the article telling of the player joining the Bears, McCarthy sprang +from his chair. +</P> + +<P> +"Why," he exclaimed, flushing angrily, "why, he means me." +</P> + +<P> +"It's a d——n shame," roared Swanson. "I'll wring his neck." +</P> + +<P> +"Let me finish," said Clancy, and completed the reading. At the end +the players broke into excited questions and threats and Clancy said: +</P> + +<P> +"Now, see here, boys; we're against a tough proposition. This article +is just part of it. I wanted to talk things over with you fellows. +I've sent for Technicalities, and want to find out a few things from +him. Now you fellows tell me all you know. By the way, you needn't +shy at using Williams's name. I'm not saying he's guilty, but I know +he's the one you have been watching." +</P> + +<P> +Detail by detail they described to the manager the events of the +preceding days. +</P> + +<P> +"Keep quiet about all that. The case is one we can't beat except on +the ball field. Every one of us is certain that Edwards has bribed +Williams and that he has lined up this big politician, Barney Baldwin, +and now they've dished up this story about McCarthy to try to drive him +out of the game. Are you game to stand what the crowd will do to you +to-day, Kohinoor?" +</P> + +<P> +"I'll play," replied McCarthy grimly. +</P> + +<P> +"Better stuff your ears with cotton if we're losing," advised the +manager. "This crowd will turn on you in a second and accuse you of +more than the paper did, if you make an error or two. It will be worse +if you stay out of the game. Then they'll think the story is true and +that I've laid you off for throwing games. I have a plan. I'm going +to act as if I believe McCarthy is trying to throw games." +</P> + +<P> +"Thanks," said McCarthy, gripping the manager's hand gratefully, just +as a knock sounded on the door and Technicalities Feehan entered. +</P> + +<P> +"I regret exceedingly my absence when you wanted me, Mr. Clancy," he +said. "I have just returned and have been reading this absurd article +reflecting upon the integrity of Mr. McCarthy." +</P> + +<P> +"What do you think of it?" asked Swanson. +</P> + +<P> +"Absurd. The figures prove directly the contrary. Let me read to you +some of my recent calculations"—— +</P> + +<P> +"Never mind—never mind," protested Clancy. "Save them for the paper. +What I wanted to find out is who is this fellow Barney Baldwin?" +</P> + +<P> +"Baldwin," said Feehan calmly, "is a politician, accused of much +crooked work. I do not know that he ever has been convicted"—— +</P> + +<P> +"Meantime," remarked Feehan calmly, "I shall attempt to discover the +relations existing between Mr. Edwards, the gamester, and this person +who wrote this attack. I shall have some statistics to show the +editor"—— +</P> + +<P> +"Never mind the statistics," said Clancy, cutting off Feehan before he +could bestride his hobby, "I want you to find out who was back of the +fellow who wrote that article; whether anyone bribed him to do it. I'm +beginning to think we are dealing with bigger men than Ed Edwards. +</P> + +<P> +"Now see here, fellows," he added frowning worriedly, "we're up against +the toughest proposition we ever tackled, but we can beat it. The best +way to beat them is to pretend we don't suspect a thing and let them +work out their own schemes"——"Hello, come in," he called in response +to a rap on the door. "Oh, it's you, Bannard! How are you? I'm just +having a little talk with the boys. How are things to-day?" +</P> + +<P> +He feigned an indifferent manner. +</P> + +<P> +"Pretty good, Bill. Team all right?" asked the president. "I heard +two of the boys got mixed up in a barroom scrap." +</P> + +<P> +"I was just warning them about that," said Clancy. "These are the two +(he pointed to Kennedy and Swanson). I was warning them that a lot of +tough mugs in this burg are likely to get excited over baseball these +days and ball players ought to stick close to the hotel." +</P> + +<P> +"Glad they're not much hurt," said Bannard easily, looking at the +battered athletes. "How is the pitching staff? By the way, who is +working to-day?" +</P> + +<P> +"It's Williams's turn," said Clancy steadily. "Why?" +</P> + +<P> +"Why, that's what I came to see about," replied the president frankly. +"That friend of mine—the one I spoke to you about the other day—wants +to see him pitch. I'm starting West at noon and I told him I'd ask you +as a favor. He was pretty sore because you didn't put him in the other +time I asked you." +</P> + +<P> +"All right. Always glad to oblige when possible," said Clancy grimly. +</P> + +<P> +"Why didn't you ask who his friend is?" inquired Swanson when Bannard +departed. +</P> + +<P> +"Bonehead, fool, slow thinker," said Clancy. "I ought to bench myself +for not thinking of it. I'll find out the first time I see him." +</P> + +<P> +The players laughed nervously and departed from the room. Scarcely had +McCarthy and Swanson reached their quarters when the telephone girl +called to tell McCarthy an important call had been coming in for half +an hour. +</P> + +<P> +"Very well, connect me," said McCarthy. +</P> + +<P> +He recognized Helen Baldwin's voice, and it shook with emotion, as she +made certain she was talking to him. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Larry," she said, "I must see you! I must—to-night, if possible! +Please come!" +</P> + +<P> +"What is the matter, Helen?" he asked anxiously. "It's impossible to +come to-night—and after the last"—— +</P> + +<P> +"I know, I know, Larry," she said rapidly. "Please, please forget all +that. I didn't understand! I didn't know! I've found out something +that showed me how bad and wicked I have been. I didn't mean to bring +harm to you"—— +</P> + +<P> +"Uncle came home," she said. "He'd been drinking. He made terrible +threats against you." +</P> + +<P> +"I'll be up to-night," said McCarthy. +</P> + +<P> +"Better look out—it's a trap," warned Swanson, who had heard McCarthy +promise to call that night. +</P> + +<P> +"There's something wrong up there," replied McCarthy. "I'm going to +Baldwin's house to-night." +</P> + +<P> +They went downstairs talking in low tones. On the parlor floor Betty +Tabor was sitting reading. She had scarcely spoken to McCarthy since +the day she had heard him in conversation with Helen Baldwin. +Impulsively she dropped her book and came toward him with her hand +outstretched. +</P> + +<P> +"Mr. McCarthy," she said rapidly, "I wanted to tell you—I do not +believe a word of these horrible things the paper says about you. It +is hateful! I told them they were false. I didn't think they'd dare +tell others"—— +</P> + +<P> +"Them?" inquired McCarthy. "Then you've heard this story before?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," she admitted. "I refused to listen—I knew there was not a word +of truth in the stories. I knew you were honest"—— +</P> + +<P> +"I thank you very much, Miss Tabor," he said quietly. "I shall not +need to ask who told you." +</P> + +<P> +"I only wanted you to know I believed in you," she said simply, and as +he looked into her eyes, she lowered them with a quick blush and +hastened to recover her book. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap21"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXI +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +<I>Fair Play</I> +</H4> + +<P> +Thirty thousand persons were packed into the big stands on the Bears' +Park, and ten thousand others camped in the outer field seats when the +teams ran out to play that day. +</P> + +<P> +A few loyalists applauded McCarthy as he trotted along with the other +players, but the ripple of applause died suddenly as if the friends he +had in the crowd feared to start a counterstorm of criticism and abuse. +</P> + +<P> +The great crowd was strangely quiet, although a hum of comment spread +through the stands when the Bears took the fielding practice and +Jacobson, the pitcher, practiced at third base, while McCarthy remained +near the stands idly warming up a recruit pitcher. The buzz arose to a +hum of excitement. Reporters, deserting the press box, swarmed down +under the stands and crowded to the entrance at the rear of the Bears' +bench, calling for Clancy, who went to speak with them. +</P> + +<P> +"Why isn't McCarthy in the game?" demanded the spokesman, who already +had written that McCarthy was suspended and out of the game. +</P> + +<P> +"He is in the game," replied Clancy innocently. "Why shouldn't he be?" +</P> + +<P> +For an instant the reporters stood undecided, then sprinted back to +their posts, to change what they had written and alter the line-up. +</P> + +<P> +Bill Tascott, the umpire, swaggered out to the plate, dusted the +rubber, while the megaphones announced the batteries, and, at that +instant McCarthy, jerking his glove from his belt, hurled his catcher's +mitt to the bench and trotted out to third base, as Jacobson walked +toward the bench. +</P> + +<P> +The little scattering applause that greeted him grew and grew until the +crowd applauded heartily and gave round after round of applause for the +third baseman. It was the American spirit of fair play and justice +revealing itself, and the crowd, accepting Manager Clancy's confidence +in his third baseman, rendered its verdict of not guilty in cheers. +</P> + +<P> +The Jackrabbits had figured cunningly that McCarthy would be unnerved +by the strain of the situation, and "Hooks" O'Leary, the manager, had +ordered that the attack be directed upon him. The first batter pushed +a slow, twisting bounder down the third-base line and McCarthy, racing +forward, scooped the ball with one hand and still running, snapped it +underhand to first base ten feet ahead of the runner. He knew that his +feat was mere bravado and that he had taken a reckless and useless +chance, but the crowd needed no further convincing, but broke into a +crashing testimonial of applause, and he knew he was safe so far as +their confidence in him was involved. +</P> + +<P> +The game developed into a panic, then the rout of the Rabbits and the +triumphant Bears rushed to victory by a score of 11 to 2. And, while +they were winning, the Panthers won one game by a wide margin and lost +the second after a fierce pitcher's duel, 2 to 1, leaving the Bears a +full game in the lead of the pennant race, with but five games to play, +while the Panthers played four. +</P> + +<P> +"The place to contradict baseball stories," remarked Clancy, grimly, in +the club house, as the players were dressing after the victory, "is on +the ball field. If we had lost to-day we would have been a bunch of +crooks, but as we won, we're all honest." +</P> + +<P> +He glanced quickly toward where Williams was dressing, but the pitcher +kept his eyes averted and seemed not to hear the remark. +</P> + +<P> +"And Kohinoor," the manager added, "I give it to you for nerve in +pulling off that circus stuff in the first inning. But if you do it +again it'll cost you a bunch of your salary." +</P> + +<P> +McCarthy found a note in his key box when he returned to the hotel. He +had torn it open to read when Miss Betty Tabor, who had returned from +the grounds with Mrs. Clancy, came laughing and almost dancing across +the lobby toward the group of players, leaving her portly, but no less +elated companion, to pant along behind her. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, it was glorious, boys!" she said. "I never was so excited in my +life as when you made those four runs in the third inning. And Mother +Clancy was so wrought up she dropped three stitches in her fancy work +and had to work all the rest of the game picking them out." +</P> + +<P> +"She has a frightful case of nerves," said Swanson sarcastically. "I +believe she'd break a needle if we won the world's championship the +last inning of the deciding game." +</P> + +<P> +They laughed joyously as the girl turned to McCarthy and said frankly: +</P> + +<P> +"I am so glad for your sake, Mr. McCarthy. I was so angry I could have +turned and told some of the people behind me what I thought of them +before the game started, but when you fielded that first ball they +cheered you—and that made up for it." +</P> + +<P> +"They should have heard what Mr. Clancy had to say about it," he +laughed, and then growing serious said, "It is kind of you, Miss Tabor. +I am glad to know someone had faith in me." +</P> + +<P> +They were standing a little apart from the group, which was slowly +moving toward the elevators, chattering excitedly as school boys and +girls. The feeling of relief from the anxiety and suspicion that had +fallen upon them gave rise to exuberance. +</P> + +<P> +"Mr. Clancy is taking us for an auto ride all around the city +to-night," said Miss Tabor. "Shall I ask him to invite you to come +with us? There's an extra seat." +</P> + +<P> +"It's awfully good of you," he said in genuine regret. "I wish I +could—but I have an engagement." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh," she said, her tones chilling quickly. "I'm sorry." +</P> + +<P> +"Miss Tabor," he pleaded eagerly, "please do not think I do not want to +go"—— +</P> + +<P> +"Did I hint such a thing?" she inquired, with an air of innocent +indifference. +</P> + +<P> +He could not fence with her upon that basis and after a moment of idle +exchange of formalities she turned to join Mrs. Clancy and McCarthy +went to his room. Swanson was stretched upon the bed, reading +newspapers, and flinging each sheet at random as he finished scanning +its contents. +</P> + +<P> +"Darn the luck," said McCarthy, hurling his glove and shoes toward his +trunk. +</P> + +<P> +"Did his 'ittle tootsie wootsy treat him mean?" asked Swanson in his +most exasperating tones. +</P> + +<P> +"Aw shut up, you big dub," snapped McCarthy angrily, resorting to ball +players' repartee to cover his feelings. +</P> + +<P> +"Maybe his lovey dovey is just jealous and will forgive her 'ittle +pet," taunted the giant. "Petty mustn't mind what lovey says in her +notes." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh," said Swanson, with vast relief when he found Swanson was barking +up the wrong tree, "I forgot all about the note." +</P> + +<P> +He dragged the missive from his pocket and scanned it hastily, then +tossed it across to Swanson. +</P> + +<P> +"Date is off," he announced joyously. "Needn't watch me to-night." +</P> + +<P> +Swanson read: +</P> + +<P> +"Dear Larry: +</P> + +<P> +"Don't come to-night. Uncle will be here—with friends—and I'm +afraid. I must see you soon as possible. Will try to arrange to meet +you somewhere to-morrow. I will telephone. H." +</P> + +<P> +And while Swanson read the note McCarthy was at the telephone. +</P> + +<P> +"Miss Tabor," he was saying eagerly, "this is Mr. McCarthy. I find my +engagement for this evening is canceled. Please ask Mr. Clancy if I +may go. Please. Yes, I said please. Shall I say it again?" +</P> + +<P> +"And, Miss Tabor, if that spare seat is in the tonneau—— No, Mrs. +Clancy should sit with her husband." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap22"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXII +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +<I>A Victory and a Defeat</I> +</H4> + +<P> +Another crowd of enormous size greeted the Bears as they raced onto the +ball field early the next afternoon to play the doubleheader that was +to complete the season's series against the Jackrabbits. +</P> + +<P> +The paper that had printed the attack upon the team had given space to +a partial retraction, and, although the players did not know it, the +reporter who had written the article had been suspended during an +investigation that was inspired because Technicalities Feehan had, +after overwhelming two editors with his statistics, convinced them that +no basis of truth existed for such charges. +</P> + +<P> +The Bears were happy and confident. With a full game the advantage and +only five more games to play, and those comparatively easy; with the +pitching staff in good condition, they considered the pennant as won. +</P> + +<P> +McCarthy and Swanson almost had forgotten to keep watch upon Williams. +They despised him, and in the club house and on the field they ignored +him completely. Several of the other players, although they knew +nothing of the plot, had come to ignore the pitcher, and he shunned +them all. He seemed nervous and laboring under a heavy strain. Two or +three times he started toward Clancy as if to speak to him, but each +time the manager, who was watching him, turned away to address another +player. Finally, Williams seemed to gather his courage, and with a +pretense of indifference he sauntered toward Clancy, who was talking +with several of the players. +</P> + +<P> +"Which game do I work, Bill?" he asked, tossing his glove down and +picking up a bat. +</P> + +<P> +"I think I'll save you for the first game of the World's Series, +Adonis," replied Clancy. "It's a shame to waste you beating these dub +clubs." +</P> + +<P> +The hidden sarcasm in the words stung. The pitcher started, then +rallied and said: +</P> + +<P> +"What have you got it in for me about? Haven't I worked my head off to +win for your team?" +</P> + +<P> +"I haven't made any kick," responded Clancy shortly. "When I have a +kick coming I'll make it good and strong." +</P> + +<P> +"I'm not joking, Bill," the pitcher persisted. "My arm is good, and a +lot of my friends are wondering why I don't work when it's my turn." +</P> + +<P> +"Tell them," said Clancy very quietly, "that I have only one third +baseman, and that I don't want him killed." +</P> + +<P> +Williams's eyes were opened. He felt beneath the bitter calmness of +the manager's voice the fact that Clancy knew—at least part of the +truth. His jaw dropped and his face went white. Clancy, with a short +laugh, started to run away. +</P> + +<P> +"Then I don't work to-day?" Alarm, pleading and a note of despair in +his tones as if he realized what the manager's decision meant to him. +</P> + +<P> +"No, not to-day," replied Clancy, watching him sharply. +</P> + +<P> +He turned away with exaggerated carelessness, and the rat-faced, +cold-eyed man in the stands, who had been watching them closely, +gritted out an oath and turned to Barney Baldwin, who was sitting +beside him: +</P> + +<P> +"He isn't going to let Williams pitch," He said. "We're done for, +Baldwin." +</P> + +<P> +The politician turned purple with rage. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, by ——, Edwards," he snarled, "we'll see about this. I'll put +this over or know why." +</P> + +<P> +The first game of the afternoon was a romp for the Bears. They scored +early, and by clean hitting and dashing play on the bases, piled up +tallies until the opponents were hopelessly defeated before the fifth +inning. The game was a stern chase from that to the finish, and the +Bears, scoring steadily, won, 9 to 2. +</P> + +<P> +Instead of being elated by the victory Clancy seemed worried. On the +bench he was fretful and uneasy. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't you fellows take any wide chances in the next game," he decreed +while the pitchers were warming up for the final battle against the +Jackrabbits. "We want this game. I'm sending Wilcox in to win it. +Who's that young bird the Rabbits are warming up? Hoskins, eh? +Busher? Well, watch him. These young fellows with nothing but a +strong arm are dangerous as the deuce at this time of the year." +</P> + +<P> +Unlike their manager, the players were confident. Their easy victory +in the first game, the fact that Wilcox, their best right-handed +pitcher, was to start the game against an unknown and untried "busher" +fresh from some small team and nervous through desire to win his first +game, made it seem as if victory should be easy. +</P> + +<P> +They blanked the Jackrabbits easily in the first inning, and, obedient +to orders, attacked the pitching of the youngster, Hoskins, with every +art known to them. They coached noisily, they waited at the plate, +they crowded close to the plate and they ran at the ball. +</P> + +<P> +"What's that bird got?" demanded Clancy as each batter returned to the +bench. "Nothin', eh? Nothing, and you swingin' your bat like you was +stirrin' apple butter? Nothin'? Say, you fellows get busy and make a +run or two." +</P> + +<P> +In spite of the orders, the abuse and criticism heaped upon them by the +anxious manager, the Bears were not able to hit the balls offered by +the tall, cool youngster picked up by the Jackrabbits from some obscure +club. He had steadied from his early symptoms of stage fright and was +pitching beautifully. His curve ball angled across the plate, his +speed jumped high across the shoulders of the batters. The fifth +inning came with the score nothing to nothing. +</P> + +<P> +The players no longer were confident. The batters no longer came back +to the bench with reports that the pitcher "had nothing," but they grew +serious and anxious and silent. They tried bunting, but the +Jackrabbits were prepared and checked the assault. They changed, and +instead of waiting they hit the first ball pitched. They realized now +that they were engaged in a contest with a pitcher of merit, for they +knew the difference between hitting unluckily and hitting good pitching. +</P> + +<P> +Wilcox, a quiet, studious pitcher, was among the first to realize that +the youngster was pitching well. +</P> + +<P> +"Get a run for me, fellows," he begged. "This kid has a world of stuff +on the ball. Just meet that fast one—poke it, and it may go over +safe. Get a run for me and we'll trim them." +</P> + +<P> +The veteran was pitching slowly, cautiously. Two or three times the +Jackrabbits threatened to score, but each time Wilcox put another twist +on the ball and stopped them. Inning after inning he pleaded with his +fellows to make a run, and Clancy stormed and grew sarcastic with each +failure. +</P> + +<P> +"Get him this time, fellows; finish it up," begged Clancy when the +Jackrabbits had been blanked. Norton was the first batter. He chopped +his bat with a short stroke and sent a safe hit flying to right. A +sacrifice pushed him along to second base and the crowd commenced to +cheer as Pardridge came to bat. The big fellow drove his bat crashing +against the first ball. It went on a line almost straight toward +second base. Norton was tearing for the plate when O'Neill, the +Jackrabbit second baseman, running across, leaped and stretched out one +hand. The ball stuck in his extended glove, he came down squarely on +second base and the triumphant scream of the crowd ended in a gasp of +disappointment at the realization that a double play had balked the +Bears' attack and ended the inning. +</P> + +<P> +The Jackrabbits, aroused by their narrow escape, attacked with new +vigor. A fumble gave them the opening. Despite the most determined +efforts of Wilcox they forced a run across the plate and the Bears were +thrown back under a handicap. +</P> + +<P> +McCarthy was the first batter. He crowded close to the plate, +determined to force the young pitcher to earn his victory. He refused +to hit until two strikes and three balls had been called, and then, +shortening his grip upon his bat, he hit the straight, fast ball +sharply to center for a base. Instead of sacrificing, Swanson received +orders to hit and run and, although he was thrown out at first base, +McCarthy reached second, and Babbitt, the first baseman, came to bat. +Hoskins appeared nervous. The strain was telling upon the youngster, +and Babbitt hit the first ball. From the sound of the bat hitting the +ball, McCarthy knew the hit was not on the ground, and as he started +homeward a glance showed him that Merode, the speedy little center +fielder, was running back into the deep field with his eye on the ball. +It was a fly-out unless Merode muffed, and McCarthy, knowing that such +a muff happens only four or five times a season, returned and perched +upon second base, ready to sprint for third the instant the ball struck +the fielder's hands. The thought flashed through his brain that the +Blues had released Merode because of a weak arm and a habit of lobbing +the ball back to the infielders instead of throwing it back with all +his power. The ball fell into the upstretched hands of the outfielder. +McCarthy leaped and raced for third base. He knew that Merode would +not throw there because of his weak arm and the length of the throw, so +he swung a little outside the base path, slowed up as he turned third, +and glanced toward the field. The ball was coming in. Merode had +thrown it slowly and carelessly toward the shortstop. McCarthy leaped +forward toward the plate. The shortstop, running out to meet the slow +throw, heard the cry of alarm from the fielders and the roar of +excitement from the crowd. He knew what was happening. He grabbed the +ball, whirled and threw like a shot to the plate. McCarthy was +two-thirds of the way home; but the ball, striking the ground, bounded +into the hands of the catcher six feet ahead of him. Like a flash +McCarthy hurled his body inside the line, with one foot outstretched to +touch the goal. He had out-guessed the catcher. His foot, stretched +out, felt the sharp jar of some object, then struck the plate, and, +rolling over and over, he arose covered with dust. +</P> + +<P> +The crowd was roaring. Nine out of ten thought McCarthy had counted +with the tying run, but Bill Tascott, crouching over the plate, jerked +his thumb over his shoulder, signaling that the runner was out and the +Bears beaten. +</P> + +<P> +Like flood waters breaking a dam, the crowd surged from the stands, +shouting, screaming, threatening. A thousand men, mad with +disappointment, swarmed around the umpire, pushing, shoving, shaking +fists and screaming. McCarthy pushed his way hurriedly into the mob, +which was growing more and more threatening. +</P> + +<P> +"Let him alone. He was right," he cried loudly. "The ball touched my +foot as I slid in." +</P> + +<P> +Those who heard him stopped, and in an instant the danger was over. +The crowd, subsiding suddenly, began to melt away. Tascott grinned as +he turned to McCarthy. +</P> + +<P> +"That was tough luck, Kohinoor," he said. "I was pulling for you to +beat the ball, and you had it beat, but your leg kicked up and hit the +ball as you slid. I'd have given a month's salary to call you safe." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap23"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXIII +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +<I>Kidnapped</I> +</H4> + +<P> +"Train leaves at 11.30, Kohinoor," said Swanson as McCarthy came up to +their rooms after dinner that evening. "Let's play billiards until it +goes." +</P> + +<P> +"Can't," replied McCarthy shortly. "I've got to make that call +to-night. There's something wrong up there at Baldwin's, Silent. The +girl writes to-day that Baldwin will not be home this evening and that +she must see me to give me important news." +</P> + +<P> +"Sure you can trust her?" asked the big shortstop. "Don't take any +chances." +</P> + +<P> +"There's no danger in going to one of the finest homes on the drive to +call on a young woman," laughed McCarthy. +</P> + +<P> +"I'll get away as soon as possible and tackle you for fifty points, +three cushions, before we start for the train," promised McCarthy. +"You hang around." +</P> + +<P> +McCarthy had puzzled for two days over the odd conduct of Helen +Baldwin, and her brief note, appointing that evening for the call, had +failed to bring any solution of the riddle. He knew now that the girl +with whom he had imagined himself in love was selfish and shallow, but +he could not believe her criminal, nor did he for an instant think that +she was a part of the conspiracy to rob the Bears of their +championship. That he was in any danger he did not consider possible. +He went uptown determined to hasten the interview as much as possible +and arrived at the Baldwin mansion shortly after eight o'clock. +</P> + +<P> +Presently Helen Baldwin came. She was wearing a dark street gown and +her face was pale, dark rings under her eyes showing that she had been +suffering. +</P> + +<P> +"Larry," she said quietly, "you'll think me hateful and wicked. I have +had a terrible time these last two days, and I have been thinking. +</P> + +<P> +"I wanted to tell you I was a foolish, vain girl. I didn't love you; I +was in love with the thought of being mistress to James Lawrence's +fortune. I was conceited and silly and never thought of any one but +myself; but I did like you, Larry—I do. You will believe that, will +you not?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," he said simply. +</P> + +<P> +"I thought baseball was just a silly game," she went on, as if each +word cost her a pang. "I couldn't understand why you gave up so much; +why you insisted upon staying with the team. I didn't know that here +in the East it is a great business and that hundreds of thousands of +people take it so seriously. Uncle Barney asked me to get you to quit, +and I told him you would. My vanity was hurt when you refused." +</P> + +<P> +"You found out what it means for me to quit?" he asked. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes. Uncle Barney came home in a terrible rage. He had been drinking +and when he saw me he swore about you. He swore he'd fix you." +</P> + +<P> +Her voice sank to a frightened whisper. +</P> + +<P> +"He was only bluffing—I beg pardon; only talking," he said, striving +to soothe her. +</P> + +<P> +"I didn't know until then that I really cared, Larry," she went on. +"He frightened me. I asked him questions, and he told me what he and +some others have been doing to keep your club from winning." +</P> + +<P> +"What did he tell you?" he asked quickly. +</P> + +<P> +"He said they had one of your pitchers, I think he said, fixed, and +that he had paid some other players to hurt you and to hurt Mr. Wilcox, +I think he said. He wanted me to get you to come to meet me somewhere, +and they'd kidnap you and someone else—Mr. Swanson, I believe it was." +</P> + +<P> +"He's a kindly fellow," commented McCarthy coldly, an angry light +gleaming in his blue eyes. "Did he say where this was to take place?" +</P> + +<P> +"No. He tried to get me to write you to meet me at some place he +named. He said I needn't go there, just get you to come. I told him I +would. When he went to sleep I telephoned you because I was so +frightened. To-day we had a terrible quarrel. I refused to write to +you to meet me at the place he named." +</P> + +<P> +Her terror was so evident that her words were not necessary to add +conviction. +</P> + +<P> +McCarthy laughed a short, rasping laugh. +</P> + +<P> +"It's a good joke on him," he explained. "If he and his thugs are +hunting for me all over the city and I here in his own home, safe; the +last place he would look for me." +</P> + +<P> +"You mustn't wait," she urged anxiously. "You mustn't wait here, +Larry. He is drinking and I do not know what he might do if he came +home and found you here. You must go now." +</P> + +<P> +"I'll run back to the hotel and pick up my bodyguard, Swanson," he said +steadily, and with an attempt at indifference of manner, "I think I'll +be safe." +</P> + +<P> +"You'll kiss me goodbye, Larry," she pleaded. "She wouldn't care—if +she knew." +</P> + +<P> +"She?" he asked. "What do you mean?" +</P> + +<P> +He was astonished and curious to learn how the girl knew anything of +his growing regard for Betty Tabor. +</P> + +<P> +"I knew, I knew," she repeated. "I knew it the first time we met—I +knew there was another girl"—— +</P> + +<P> +"I'm certain I did not hint at such a thing," he replied with an +attempt at dignified bearing. "I have not even told her." +</P> + +<P> +"Good-bye," she said. "I hope you're happy, Larry, and please don't +think I meant to do wrong." +</P> + +<P> +She clung to him weeping until he put away her hands and went out. The +girl threw herself face downward upon the lounge and sobbed, this time +from a sense of loneliness and perhaps of loss. +</P> + +<P> +McCarthy descended the stairs and walked rapidly through the darkened +lawn to the street. In spite of his pretense of believing there was no +danger he found himself nervous. He walked two blocks toward the +street car line, when a taxicab swerved toward the sidewalk. +</P> + +<P> +"Taxi, sir, taxi?" asked the driver. "Take you downtown, sir?" +</P> + +<P> +McCarthy hesitated an instant. If he hurried back to the hotel and +found Swanson he would rid himself of the nervous dread of something +intangible which he could not explain. +</P> + +<P> +"How much downtown?" he asked, stopping near the taxicab, which had +come to a full stop. +</P> + +<P> +"Take you down for half rates, sir; I'm going that way." +</P> + +<P> +"Very well," said McCarthy. +</P> + +<P> +He walked to the side of the car, and turned the handle to step within. +The instant he entered the car he felt himself seized and jerked +downward while a pair of hands gripped at his throat. A vicious blow +struck him on the back of the neck. Twisting, fighting, squirming, he +struggled to free himself from the hands that were throttling him. His +knees found a grip upon the floor of the car, and bracing himself, he +jerked loose from one of the men, and struck wildly at the shape he saw +silhouetted against the opposite window. His fist met flesh with a +crunching sound. +</P> + +<P> +"I'll kill you for that," gritted someone, striking him. In the half +light of the interior McCarthy saw an object descending. He threw up +an arm to protect his head, and with a crunching blow a heavy blackjack +fell upon his arm. He seized the weapon and jerked it from the hand +that had held it, but it fell to the floor of the cab. +</P> + +<P> +McCarthy had struggled to his feet, bowing as his head struck the roof. +One man, seated, kicked at him and hurt him cruelly. He was standing, +with the car door swinging wide, while the car lurched and raced along +a rough street. +</P> + +<P> +Curses, groans, cries of pain and anger came from the interior as the +player, battling against two unknown opponents, fought on. All three +of the participants in the battle at forty miles an hour, were hampered +by the smallness of the interior. +</P> + +<P> +McCarthy strove to tear himself from the arms and legs that struck and +kicked him, to get his head out of the window to raise the alarm. +</P> + +<P> +Again and again he cried. Then suddenly the car lurched around a +corner at a mad pace, tipping onto two wheels and skidding sickeningly. +At that instant one of his assailants drove his feet against his body, +and, as the car lurched wildly, McCarthy broke loose, grasped +frantically for something to save himself, plunged from the machine, +struck upon the asphalt of the side street into which the car had +whirled, slid along it to the gutter and lay a huddled heap. +</P> + +<P> +The car stopped quickly and whirled back to where he lay. The men +leaped out, one cursing and frothing, the other urging silence and +haste. Between them they lifted the half-conscious player and shoved +him into the bottom of the car. +</P> + +<A NAME="img-244"></A> +<CENTER> +<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-244.jpg" ALT="THE MEN LEAPED OUT" BORDER="2" WIDTH="404" HEIGHT="625"> +<H4 CLASS="h4center" STYLE="width: 404px"> +THE MEN LEAPED OUT +</H4> +</CENTER> + +<P> +"Hurry up, Fred," urged the quiet man to the driver. "These fellows +down at the corner are coming. Jump in, Jack." +</P> + +<P> +They leaped back into the taxi, and the man called Jack said viciously: +</P> + +<P> +"There—you, that'll teach you"—He kicked the prostrate player. +</P> + +<P> +"Cut that out," ordered the quiet man, quickly. "You needn't murder +him; he's fixed." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap24"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXIV +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +<I>Baiting a Trap</I> +</H4> + +<P> +Events that preceded and led up to the desperate encounter between +McCarthy and the two strangers in the dark interior of a racing taxicab +seemed to have been dictated by fate. At the end of the doubleheader +between the Jackrabbits and Bears, Easy Ed Edwards had hurriedly laid +new plans to save himself. The gambler had watched both contests, +believing all the time that the result of the games ended his final +hope of winning the bets, and, facing ruin, he had welcomed his new +lease upon hope with the determination of resorting to desperate +measures to achieve his end. He realized that unless he acted at once +all his plotting had failed. After the defeat of the Bears in the +second game he left the grounds, hastened downtown in a taxi and at +once telephoned to both Adonis Williams and Barney Baldwin to meet him +at his rooms. Baldwin responded at once to the gambler's summons and +entered the rooms blustering. +</P> + +<P> +"You've a frightful nerve, Edwards," snarled the angry politician. +"Understand, I do not take orders from cheap gamblers." +</P> + +<P> +"You needn't try storming at me," said the gambler quietly. "I'm onto +you. You may ring over such a bluff as that in politics, but not with +me. You don't seem to understand." +</P> + +<P> +"I don't think you can deliver any votes anyhow," said Baldwin +sullenly. "I've nothing but your word for it." +</P> + +<P> +"That's all the security I ever needed," said the gambler +superciliously. "But never mind about the votes—you're going to help +me." +</P> + +<P> +"I've done all I can"—— +</P> + +<P> +"No, you haven't. I want you to go to-morrow morning and join the +Bears and I want you to see to it that Williams pitches one of those +games against the Blues. He'll lose it this time. I've thrown a scare +into him and he'll do it, even if he gives himself away." +</P> + +<P> +"I tell you I can't," snarled Baldwin. "President Bannard is the only +one who knows I own the club"—— +</P> + +<P> +"Take your stock with you. That proves you own it." +</P> + +<P> +"And Bannard is out of town. Clancy wouldn't pay any attention to +me"—— +</P> + +<P> +"You own this club," said Edwards. "You can do what you please with +it, and you're going to do it." +</P> + +<P> +"You talk as if you owned me!" Baldwin was purple with anger. +</P> + +<P> +"I do," said the gambler coldly. "It would look good in print to have +the people know that Barney Baldwin, the crooked politician, owns both +the Bears and the Panthers, wouldn't it?" +</P> + +<P> +"You have no proof"—— +</P> + +<P> +"Haven't I? I saved both your notes. You're a fool, Baldwin. You +write letters. I have two mentioning McCarthy and Williams. I +wouldn't have any trouble getting them printed. Any sporting editor in +the city would give a thousand dollars for such proof." +</P> + +<P> +"Look here, Ed," expostulated Baldwin, "there isn't any use for us to +quarrel. We're both in this thing"—— +</P> + +<P> +"Now you're talking sense," said the gambler. "We haven't any time to +lose. The club leaves town at 11.30 to-night." +</P> + +<P> +"What do you want me to do?" gasped Baldwin helplessly. +</P> + +<P> +"You're pretty strong with Captain Raferty, of the North Nineteenth +Street police, aren't you?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes—I've done him some favors." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I want you to fix it with him that when I bring a prisoner in +to-night some time he's to be locked downstairs and kept until you +telephone to let him loose." +</P> + +<P> +"What are you going to do?" asked Baldwin, alarmed. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm going to do something myself," replied the gambler sharply. "I've +tried a lot of you fellows and you've all fallen down. Now I'm going +to get this McCarthy and put him out of the way." +</P> + +<P> +"You're taking an awful risk"—— +</P> + +<P> +"It's a sure thing the other way, and I'm desperate," the gambler cut +him short. "When you get that fixed you catch the first train and +follow the team. You get Clancy in the morning and force him to let +Williams pitch one of the games down there. Wilcox is worked out now, +and if we can make sure Williams will pitch one game, that will force +Clancy to pitch Wilcox again, and he'll be beaten sure. With McCarthy +out of the game, as he will be, the Bears haven't a chance. They're +half a game ahead, but if they lose two out of three and the Panthers +win one out of their remaining two games, the Panthers beat them out on +percentage, and the Panthers ought to win both games." +</P> + +<P> +"You haven't cornered McCarthy yet?" asked the politician. +</P> + +<P> +"No," admitted Edwards. "He left the hotel nearly two hours ago and +said he'd be back before ten o'clock. I have two men watching him, and +they're to let me know where he is and what he is doing. I ought to +have heard from them before now." +</P> + +<P> +The telephone rang at that instant. +</P> + +<P> +"This is it now," said Edwards in low tones. "Hello!" he said, taking +up the receiver. "Yes—you, Jack? All right. You have? Where? All +right. I'll join you as fast as I can get there. Don't let him reach +the hotel if I'm late—you understand?" +</P> + +<P> +"What do you think of that?" he asked, turning to Baldwin. "Of all the +gall—where do you think that fellow McCarthy was?" +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know." +</P> + +<P> +"No wonder Jack had such a hard time locating him. He was at your +house." +</P> + +<P> +"I have a taxi waiting downstairs," said Edwards quickly. "Come on, +I'll drop you at the police station. We'll bring in the prisoner +before you've been there very long." +</P> + +<P> +"How are you going to get him?" inquired Baldwin, as the taxi dodged in +and out among traffic. +</P> + +<P> +"I've got Big Jack, the fighter, trailing McCarthy," said the gambler, +laughing mirthlessly. "He's sore on ball players since that scrap with +Swanson and Kennedy the other night, and he'll welcome a chance to get +his hands on one." +</P> + +<P> +"He won't hurt him, will he?" asked Baldwin nervously. +</P> + +<P> +"No, he won't hurt him," replied the gambler with scornful sarcasm. +"Not a bit. He'll probably take him in his lap and sing him to sleep." +</P> + +<P> +"This is dangerous business," objected Baldwin nervously. "We might +all get into trouble." +</P> + +<P> +"We're all in trouble now," snapped Edwards. "You leave the trouble +end of it to me." +</P> + +<P> +The taxi slackened its pace as it approached the police station and +Baldwin climbed out under the lights that marked it as the home of the +paid guardians of the people's rights and liberties. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't fall down this time," warned the gambler. "If this don't go +through, the newspapers will have some fine information to print in the +next few days." +</P> + +<P> +"I'll fix it, Ed, I'll frame it all right," replied Baldwin nervously. +</P> + +<P> +The mention of his name and the imposing manner he had assumed won for +him immediate entrance to the captain's private room, and after ten +minutes of earnest conversation, Baldwin emerged, the gray-haired +official with the gilt stars and chevrons escorting him and shaking +hands with him at the street door. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't forget, Raferty," said Baldwin importantly. "I want him kept +close until I can get the proof we need. Don't let any lawyers or +reporters get near him and keep your cops from gossiping. You won't +lose anything by it, Raferty. Drop down and see me sometime. I'd like +to talk the political situation over with you. You understand?" +</P> + +<P> +Meantime the taxicab, with Edwards inside, had raced across the upper +portion of the city to the place where Big Jack was pacing the shadowy +part of the sidewalk half a block from Baldwin's home. +</P> + +<P> +"He hasn't come out yet," Jack reported, stepping into the light as the +taxi slowed down and crept along near the gutter. +</P> + +<P> +"Jump in," said Edwards. "Run over across the street, and step in the +shadow there," he ordered the chauffeur. +</P> + +<P> +"There he comes now, out the gate. Follow him." +</P> + +<P> +Five minutes later McCarthy stepped into the trap laid by the gambler +and, ten minutes after he lurched out of the machine, he was carried +half unconscious, into the basement door of the police station and +deposited roughly upon the bench in the "cozy corner." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap25"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXV +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +<I>McCarthy Disappears</I> +</H4> + +<P> +Silent Swanson was jabbing billiard balls around the table as if +venting his irritability upon the innocent spheres of ivory. +</P> + +<P> +"Why so cruel to the relics of departed generations of ball players?" +inquired Kennedy, who was cuddled up in cushioned settee watching. +</P> + +<P> +"Waiting for Kohinoor." +</P> + +<P> +"Where has he gone?" inquired Kennedy carelessly. +</P> + +<P> +"Skirting again," explained Swanson. "He ought to be back before +long," added Swanson, jabbing the balls harder and stopping to look at +his watch. "It's five past ten now, and he said he'd cut the call +short." +</P> + +<P> +"Think any sane guy would quit a pretty girl to spend an evening with +you?" inquired Kennedy insultingly, having decided to wile away the +time by ragging his big teammate. +</P> + +<P> +"I've a hunch something is wrong with Kohinoor," said Swanson. "He +told me he'd break away early and shoot me some billiards before train +time. He didn't say just when, but I expected him back by ten." +</P> + +<P> +"Why don't you sue him for divorce if he neglects you?" suggested +Kennedy, again seeking to start an argument. +</P> + +<P> +Swanson consulted his watch with gloomy foreboding and declined to +engage in repartee. +</P> + +<P> +"Better come drag along down to the train," suggested Kennedy. "I'll +buy the gas wagon to haul us. Your little playmate is safe enough." +</P> + +<P> +"I'll hang around here," replied Swanson without spirit. +</P> + +<P> +"All right," Kennedy remarked, rising and stretching himself. "I'm +going to dig along and get into the hay before that old rattler starts. +I want some sleep. Most of the fellows already have gone." +</P> + +<P> +Swanson resumed his gloomy pastime of making fancy shots on the +billiard table. When he looked at his watch again it marked ten-thirty. +</P> + +<P> +He strolled upstairs to the lobby, scanned the writing room and smoking +rooms for a sign of McCarthy and then, with a sudden anxiety, he +hurried to the telephone and called the Baldwin residence number. +</P> + +<P> +"Is this Miss Baldwin speaking?" he inquired, using his off-the-field +manner. +</P> + +<P> +"Is my friend, Mr. McCarthy, there?" he inquired when she responded in +the affirmative. "I was to meet him, and he has not appeared." +</P> + +<P> +"Hasn't he arrived at the hotel?" he girl inquired in quick alarm. "He +left here more than three-quarters of an hour ago. Has something +happened to him?" +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know, miss," said Swanson. "I got anxious waiting for him—— +You're sure he left your house that long ago?" +</P> + +<P> +"About that—I'm not certain," she said. "He was only here a short +time." +</P> + +<P> +"I expect he had to wait for a car, or else went straight to the +station without stopping here," said Swanson, striving to quiet the +evident alarm of the girl, although his own misgivings were growing. +"He left the house alone, did he?" +</P> + +<P> +"Who are you? Are you a friend of his?" asked the girl anxiously. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, I'm Swanson, his chum," replied the shortstop. "You needn't +worry, miss, he'll be all right. I'm sorry I worried you about it." +</P> + +<P> +He hung up the receiver and made a hasty tour of the hotel, descended +to the billiard room, peeped into the bar and hurried through the +writing and lounging rooms. +</P> + +<P> +"Five after eleven," he muttered to himself, as he turned from the +desk. "Kohinoor has found he was late and stayed on the car to the +station. I'll grab a taxi and hurry down." +</P> + +<P> +"If he comes in tell him I've gone," he called to the clerk as he +hurried out. +</P> + +<P> +A quarter of an hour later Swanson hurried into the great train shed +where the train was waiting to bear the Bears on their final trip of +the season. Most of the athletes already had sought their berths to +attempt to get to sleep before the train started, as the ride was a +short one and the hours of sleep too few. +</P> + +<P> +"Kohinoor down yet?" asked Swanson in a low tone, as he came near the +trainer. +</P> + +<P> +"Haven't seen him," replied the trainer. "I put his baggage in his +berth. There's a card game in the smoking room, maybe he's in there." +</P> + +<P> +"I'll watch for him at the gate," said Swanson, "he may turn up yet." +</P> + +<P> +Worried and alarmed, Swanson swung back along the train and took his +stand where he could watch the entrances to the station and the great +clock at the same time. Three minutes remained before time for the +train to start. There was a flurry in the crowd at the gates, and a +man broke through to race for the train. Swanson's heart leaped. He +started to meet the newcomer, then, with a sickening feeling, he saw +that it was not McCarthy, but Williams. +</P> + +<P> +"Seen Kohinoor?" inquired Swanson, as Williams hurried past. +</P> + +<P> +"Not since dinner. Isn't he here?" inquired Williams, stopping and +dropping his grip. +</P> + +<P> +"Haven't seen him," replied Swanson, watching Williams closely for +symptoms of guilt, and finding none. +</P> + +<P> +"I expected it," said Williams nastily. "Maybe that story about him +trying to throw games is straight after all." +</P> + +<P> +"That's what a lot of them will say if he don't show up to-morrow," +reflected Swanson. +</P> + +<P> +The warning cry of all aboard sounded. The big shortstop hesitated an +instant, and gave a despairing glance toward the gates, just being +closed. +</P> + +<P> +"It won't do for both of us to miss this game," he muttered as he +turned and ran along the platform. The porter was just closing the +vestibule doors and the train was gathering speed as the big shortstop +swung aboard, went into the now deserted smoking room and sank down, +staring blankly out of the window at the rushing lights. +</P> + +<P> +Before the train reached the city of the Blues the news that McCarthy +was missing had spread through the car of the Bears. The consternation +that followed the rumor grew as the berths were made up and it became a +certainty that the third baseman was not with the team. Swanson had +informed Manager Clancy early in the morning of the events of the +preceding evening so far as he knew them. They had not told anyone, +but every member of the team knew, and they gathered in little groups. +Williams was circulating around the car, talking with different players. +</P> + +<P> +"Look at him," said Swanson to Clancy. "He hates McCarthy and he was +the one who told them first that Kohinoor was not with us. He guessed +it when I asked him last night if he had seen him." +</P> + +<P> +"It's queer," the voice of Pardridge came from the berth behind them. +"It's a funny thing that all this sort of trouble in the team started +when that red-headed tramp joined us." +</P> + +<P> +"They'll all be talking that way," said Swanson gloomily. "They wait +for a chance to knock." +</P> + +<P> +"Something may have happened to delay him," said the manager in tones +that showed he did not believe his own hopeful words. "Maybe he went +to the wrong station, or had an accident. Have you looked at the +papers?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes. Nothing in them about any accident. I'm still hoping he'll be +in at noon, catching that early morning train." +</P> + +<P> +"I hope for a telegram from him anyway, when we get to the hotel," +replied the manager. +</P> + +<P> +But McCarthy did not show up, nor was there any telegram from him +awaiting when the team reached their hotel. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap26"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXVI +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +<I>Baldwin Shows His Hand</I> +</H4> + +<P> +"There's a swarm of reporters down in the lobby all excited over +McCarthy," announced Swanson as, in obedience to orders, he, with +Kennedy, Norton and Technicalities Feehan, gathered in Clancy's room +soon after breakfast. +</P> + +<P> +"Let them wait," replied Clancy. "They've been calling up here every +five minutes." +</P> + +<P> +Briefly each of the players recounted the little they had seen or heard +during the preceding evening, Swanson giving his account of his +engagement with McCarthy, his telephone conversation with Miss Baldwin, +of her evident sincerity when she informed him as to McCarthy's +departure from the house and of his vain wait. +</P> + +<P> +"But what could have happened?" asked Kennedy. "You're sure he got out +of the house? It's only two blocks to the street car line and three to +the elevated on lighted streets, you say. If he was hit by an +automobile or held up by robbers it would have been in the newspapers." +</P> + +<P> +"Manager Clancy," said Feehan softly from his perch upon a trunk, which +gave him the aspect of a huge owl, "I have been giving consideration to +a plan. Unless Mr. McCarthy should arrive on the 11.45 train I shall +catch the noonday express for home, arriving there shortly after five, +to put my plan into effect." +</P> + +<P> +"But you cannot neglect your work, Feehan," protested the manager. +"It's fine of you to offer it, but you've got yourself to think of." +</P> + +<P> +"I have a premonition," responded the reporter solemnly, "or what Mr. +Swanson so graphically expresses as a 'hunch,' that the story at the +other end is bigger than the story of the contest. Besides, Mr. +Hardner has kindly consented to report the game of to-day for my paper +as well as his own." +</P> + +<P> +"What's your theory, Technicalities?" asked Clancy gratefully. +</P> + +<P> +"Only one of two things are probable," explained Feehan. "Either +McCarthy left of his own accord or because of threats made to him or +else he has been kidnapped by certain—ah—interests, let us say, +desirous of preventing the Bears from winning the championship emblem." +</P> + +<P> +"Ah, Kohinoor wouldn't quit, and they couldn't scare him," growled +Swanson. +</P> + +<P> +"Precisely, Mr. Swanson. The statistics prove beyond doubt that he is +not concerned in the losing of games, putting aside the fact that the +young man undoubtedly is honest and sincere. That leaves us only one +premise, the other having been found untenable. Mr. McCarthy has been +kidnapped." +</P> + +<P> +"I can't figure how they could take him in a public street or from a +street car," interposed Clancy. +</P> + +<P> +"I have calculated that," said the reporter. "Either he is in the +Baldwin home and Miss Baldwin ah—er—falsified or he was attacked +between her uncle's home and the street car line two and one-half +blocks distant." +</P> + +<P> +"How do you propose finding him?" asked Clancy. +</P> + +<P> +"I shall arrive at 5.11," replied the peculiar little man of news +quietly. "Before six o'clock I shall have one of the best detective +agencies in the world scouring the city." +</P> + +<P> +The train came steaming into the station on time and the shortstop and +the reporter crowded closer to the gates, watching the stream of +hurrying passengers rushing through the narrow gates and spreading, +fan-like, across the great floor. Suddenly Swanson's elbow jarred +against the reporter's body, causing the frail statistician to wince. +</P> + +<P> +"Look there!" said Swanson in excited whispers. +</P> + +<P> +"Where—who?" inquired Feehan, striving to focus his heavy glasses upon +the position indicated by his companion. +</P> + +<P> +"It's Baldwin—the big fellow with the cane and the small satchel. See +him?" +</P> + +<P> +"I see a big man. I never saw Baldwin," responded the reporter. "Now, +what can he be doing over here?" +</P> + +<P> +"I'm going to find out," replied Swanson, his jaw setting pugnaciously. +"McCarthy isn't on that train or he'd have been out among the first, +and they're almost all out now. Good luck to you, Feehan, and wire me +the minute you locate Kohinoor." +</P> + +<P> +"I will," promised the reporter. "What you've got to do is to win that +game to-day without him. I'll have him here to-morrow if he hasn't +broken a leg." +</P> + +<P> +Swanson leaped into the taxi immediately behind that into which he had +seen Baldwin climb, and ordered the driver to follow the other vehicle. +His surprise hardly could have been greater than when the short pursuit +of Baldwin ended at the hotel from which he had come, unless it was +that which came over him when, upon following the big man to the desk, +he heard Baldwin order the clerk to send his card to Manager Clancy. +</P> + +<P> +Swanson's surprise, however, was little more than that experienced by +Manager Clancy when the bell boy delivered Baldwin's card. +</P> + +<P> +"Send him right up," he said, and as the boy turned he said to himself: +"Now, what the dickens does that fellow want with me?" +</P> + +<P> +Baldwin entered the room pompously, and walked toward the Bears' +manager with his pudgy hand extended. +</P> + +<P> +"Ah, Clancy," he said patronizingly. "I'm Mr. Baldwin. I've seen you +often on the field, but never had the occasion to meet you before." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," replied Clancy, ignoring the hand, "I've heard of you often, +Baldwin, in various connections. You wanted to see me?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes; matter of business," said the big man. "Fact is, Clancy, I ran +over from home purposely to have a little confidential talk with you." +</P> + +<P> +"Depends upon what it is whether it's confidential or not," said +Clancy; "I can't pledge myself not to tell the newspaper boys, +especially if you've come to give me a third baseman." +</P> + +<P> +"Hasn't McCarthy shown up?" inquired the politician quickly. +</P> + +<P> +"No," responded Clancy coldly. "Didn't happen to see him over in town, +did you?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, no. Fact is, Clancy, I never have paid much attention to my ball +players." +</P> + +<P> +"Your ball players?" It was Clancy's turn to be astonished. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, yes; Clancy, I supposed you knew. I've owned the controlling +interest in the Bears for a number of years. That's what I came to see +you about." +</P> + +<P> +"You own the Bears?" Clancy's tone was between surprise and disbelief. +</P> + +<P> +"Certainly, certainly. Now, I haven't taken any active interest in +them for several reasons until lately. Truth is things aren't going to +suit me, and I have decided to take a hand myself." +</P> + +<P> +"You have?" asked Clancy. "Well, you may own this club, but I'm d——d +if you can run it while I'm manager." +</P> + +<P> +"I'm not trying to run it, Clancy," replied the big man, unruffled. +"Don't fly off that way. I just decided to use the owner's prerogative +of consulting the manager." +</P> + +<P> +"All right, Mr. Baldwin," replied Clancy, puzzled and mollified. "I +did not know—you see it's a new idea—I didn't even know you owned +stock." +</P> + +<P> +Clancy was sparring for time in which to collect his thoughts, which +were sadly scattered by the unexpected developments. +</P> + +<P> +"Thought you might not be convinced," said Baldwin easily, "so I +brought the documents along. Look over them and be convinced I own the +club. They cost me a pretty neat pile, but I'm satisfied. You've made +'em pay me." +</P> + +<P> +He tossed over the book of stock certificates, and Clancy, who owned a +few shares of stock himself, realized their genuineness as he looked +through them while planning his next move. +</P> + +<P> +"I congratulate you," he said, handing back the forms. "I own a couple +myself, so I know what they pay. Well, what have you to suggest, Mr. +Baldwin? We're having a hard time winning this race, and if I seemed +curt, blame it on worries. I have plenty." +</P> + +<P> +"Naturally we all want to win," said Baldwin pompously. "Now, as to +behavior, I'm told Swanson and Kennedy aren't behaving themselves." +</P> + +<P> +"They're all right," argued Clancy, feeling from Baldwin's tone that he +had not yet reached the point. +</P> + +<P> +"I heard they had a fight in a barroom." Baldwin spoke with an effort +of sternness. "That won't do, Clancy. And now McCarthy is missing. +Then there's another thing." +</P> + +<P> +Baldwin hesitated as if thinking how best to state his case, and Clancy +eyed him closely, feeling that the real object of the interview was +coming, "I'm not at all pleased with the way you are working your +pitchers." +</P> + +<P> +"A fellow makes blunders sometimes," replied Clancy, with a meekness +astounding in him. +</P> + +<P> +"That's what I wanted to talk to you about," went on Baldwin blandly. +"Who do you propose pitching to-day and to-morrow?" +</P> + +<P> +In a flash Clancy understood. It was Baldwin who had been urging +Bannard to have Williams pitch. He saw through Baldwin's motives and +planned quickly how to meet them. +</P> + +<P> +"Well," he said, frowning as if worried, "it's a tough game. You see, +the fans never forgive a fellow if he guesses wrong at this time in a +race. I planned to use Williams in one game and Morgan the other. You +see the Blues hit right-handers harder than they do left-handers." +</P> + +<P> +"So I understand," a gleam of cunning and triumph came into the eyes of +the politician. "Morgan and Williams ought to beat them, I think." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, they ought—I'm a little afraid of Morgan." Clancy was drawing +the owner out. "He hasn't shown speed in his last two games." +</P> + +<P> +"Then Williams is in fine form?" The triumph and satisfaction in the +big man's voice were unmistakable. +</P> + +<P> +"He's good," replied Clancy. "He ought to best them sure." +</P> + +<P> +"Will you pitch him to-day or to-morrow?" asked Baldwin, completely +thrown off his guard. "I'm anxious to make certain he will pitch." +</P> + +<P> +"Of course he'll pitch, Mr. Baldwin," replied the manager. "I've got +to pitch him and he's my best man." +</P> + +<P> +"All right, Clancy, all right," said the owner genially. "I'm glad I +had this conference with you. I was afraid you were angry with +Williams or something and would not let him work. Glad to see you have +good judgment." +</P> + +<P> +He went out and as the door closed he removed his hat, and, wiping his +brow, smiled a smile of great relief over the fact that his purpose had +been accomplished without trouble. Had he been able to see through the +door he would have seen Clancy, the veins of his neck standing out +purple, his face convulsed with rage, standing, shaking his fist toward +the door and muttering: +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, I'll pitch Williams. I'll pitch Williams, and by —— he'll win." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap27"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXVII +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +<I>Searching</I> +</H4> + +<P> +Betty Tabor had remained at the hotel in the home town with Mrs. Clancy +when the Bears went to play their two-game series with the Blues. +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Clancy had refused positively to engage in any baseball +conversation or to debate with Miss Tabor the chances of the Bears +winning the championship. +</P> + +<P> +"Heavens knows it's hard enough to be married to a baseball man," she +said as she bit a thread, "him makin' base hits in his sleep and +worrying the little hair he has left off his head, without havin' a +girl that ought to be thinkin' of dresses and hats wantin' to din +baseball into my ears all day. My dear, never marry a ball player." +</P> + +<P> +"You appear to be pretty well satisfied with yours, Mother Clancy," +teased the girl. "Maybe I'll find one as fine some day"—— +</P> + +<P> +"I'm thinkin' you've found yours now," replied Mrs. Clancy, without +glancing up from her work. "A nice bye, too, although they do say the +red-headed ones are hot tempered." +</P> + +<P> +"Why, Mother Clancy! How dare you!" the girl expostulated, reddening. +</P> + +<P> +"If you're thinkin' to deceive Ellen Clancy, you're sore mistaken," +replied the manager's wife. "My Willie says I can tell when young +people are in love before they know it themselves, an' ye and the +red-headed McCarthy boy has all the symptoms. 'Tis a nice boy he is, +too, and you'll be doin' well." +</P> + +<P> +"But after ye've been married as long as we have ye'll not be wantin' +to see many ball games. Many's the time I've begged Willie to quit it +and get a little house out in the country, with a bit of green grass +and maybe a flower bed and a little garden and a porch, and maybe a +chicken yard, and let me end my days in peace, out of the sound of +crowds and yellin' maniacs. Eighteen year I've ridden with him on cars +smellin' of arnica, and with the train dust an' cinders in me eyes an' +hair, and I long for peace. Only one season I've missed—'twas when +little Mar-rtin was born"—— +</P> + +<P> +She snuffled a little and dropped her work to wipe her eyes hastily. +It was fifteen years since their only baby had come and gone in a short +year, to leave them closer to each other, but each with a heart pain +that never ceased. +</P> + +<P> +A bell boy interrupted her lecture to bring in a card, and Mrs. Clancy, +glancing at it, passed it over to Miss Tabor. +</P> + +<P> +"'Tis for you, Betty girl," she said. "And, Mother of Mary, she'll see +us this way"—— +</P> + +<P> +Betty Tabor sat staring at the card, at first puzzled, then in a panic +of mingled emotions. +</P> + +<P> +"Tell her to come up," she said. "I'll see her here. Mother Clancy, +don't you dare hide." +</P> + +<P> +The girl hastily arranged her hair and straightened the room, and a few +minutes later, when the boy ushered the visitor into the apartments, +she was self-possessed and cool. She arose as the door opened, and +started forward to meet her guest, but stopped staring as the color +faded from her face and then slowly heightened. +</P> + +<P> +"You are Miss Tabor?" inquired the visitor, her voice trembling from +excitement and nervousness. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes. You are Miss Helen Baldwin; you desired to see me?" +</P> + +<P> +The sight of the girl she had seen talking with Kohinoor McCarthy in +the hotel parlor, shortly after he joined the club, had shaken her +composure. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Miss Tabor," Helen Baldwin cried, sinking into a chair and giving +way to her emotions. "I had to come—I had nowhere else to go—and +they told me over the telephone only you and Mrs. Clancy were here and +all the men of the team away." +</P> + +<P> +"If it is baseball business," replied Miss Tabor, "perhaps you'd better +see Mrs. Clancy. I'll call her"—— +</P> + +<P> +"No! no! no!" expostulated the girl, drying her eyes. "It is you I +must see. Have you heard anything from Mr. McCarthy?" +</P> + +<P> +"I have no especial reason to hear from Mr. McCarthy," said Miss Tabor, +freezing slowly. "I suppose he is with the team." +</P> + +<P> +"He isn't! He isn't!" pleaded the girl. "He has disappeared—— +Haven't you seen the papers?" +</P> + +<P> +"Mr. McCarthy disappeared! Where? When?" Betty Tabor had forgotten +her jealousy in her startled alarm. "He isn't with the team?" +</P> + +<P> +"I read it in the papers," sobbed Helen Baldwin. "He was at my house +last evening. He left there—and he has disappeared. I hoped you +might know." +</P> + +<P> +"At your house?" Betty Tabor's alarm struggled with her jealousy. +"And he's gone? Let me see the paper." +</P> + +<P> +"I haven't seen him, Miss Baldwin," she said, after glancing at the +paper. "We thought he had gone with the team. Tell me what you know. +Perhaps we may help you. You were engaged to him, were you not?" +</P> + +<P> +"We were—once," sobbed Helen Baldwin. "But that's all over. I did +him a wrong. I never loved him—that way—and it's all my fault he's +in trouble now." +</P> + +<P> +Betty Tabor's heart leaped with a joy that overwhelmed all other +emotions. Her cold attitude toward Helen Baldwin changed, and, sinking +upon the seat beside the sobbing girl, she put her arm around her. +</P> + +<P> +"There, there," she said comfortingly, as a mother might, forgetting +that Helen Baldwin was older that she. "You must not blame yourself. +Try to tell me what happened last evening. Perhaps we may know what to +do." +</P> + +<P> +Slowly, with interruptions by hysterical moments, Helen Baldwin told +the story of her unconscious part in the conspiracy; of her alarm for +the safety of McCarthy; how she had sent for him and warned him, and of +Swanson's telephone call. +</P> + +<P> +"You'd better go home, dear, and rest," Betty said finally. "There is +nothing we can do. The men will have started the search early this +morning and notified the police. He will return." +</P> + +<P> +Helen Baldwin, calmed and reassured by the brave pretense of the +younger woman, prepared to go home. Betty Tabor assisted her to +rearrange her disordered fair hair, murmuring her admiration for it as +she worked. For the first time a smile came to the troubled face of +Helen Baldwin, and when she was ready to go she kissed Betty and held +her at arm's length. +</P> + +<P> +"You're very good and unselfish," she said in low tones. "I hope you +and he are very happy." +</P> + +<P> +"Why, Miss Baldwin," exclaimed Betty, blushing, "there is nothing +between us. He is scarcely a friend"—— +</P> + +<P> +"I know, dear," replied the taller girl, kissing her again. "He is a +very good and lovable boy, and very impetuous. He really loves you." +</P> + +<P> +She smiled a trifle wanly and turning, left the room. +</P> + +<P> +Betty Tabor turned with a sigh, just in time to see Mrs. Clancy making +violent gestures through a small crack in the door. +</P> + +<P> +"You didn't ask her," exclaimed the exasperated Mrs. Clancy. "You +didn't ask her!" +</P> + +<P> +"Ask her what?" inquired Betty in surprise. "You heard what we talked +about?" +</P> + +<P> +"Every word. I listened shamelessly," replied the manager's wife. +"'Tis my curiosity will kill me. You didn't ask her one word about who +McCarthy is. And she knows all about him!" +</P> + +<P> +"I didn't think—I forgot," said Betty, hurrying to gather her work and +belongings in preparation for leaving. +</P> + +<P> +"Where are you going, child?" asked Mrs. Clancy. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm going to dress and get an automobile to make the rounds of all the +hospitals. He may be hurt and in one." +</P> + +<P> +"Glory be! I never thought of it! Dress fast, darlin', an' I'll go +with you." +</P> + +<P> +They returned, weary and discouraged. They had not found a trace of +the missing boy. Scarcely had they reached their rooms than another +call for Miss Tabor came, and a few minutes later Technicalities Feehan +entered. +</P> + +<P> +"Mr. Feehan, what are you doing here?" both women exclaimed in chorus. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm searching for Mr. McCarthy," responded Feehan. "I reached the +city shortly after five o'clock, and, having concluded my arrangements +for finding Mr. McCarthy, it occurred to me that, having an evening of +idleness, I might devote it to no better purpose than in escorting you +ladies to some place of amusement." +</P> + +<P> +"To a theatre, with a tragedy like this happening to one of our boys!" +exclaimed Miss Tabor indignantly. +</P> + +<P> +"Rest assured, Miss Tabor," he replied, "we can do nothing, and +eventually Mr. McCarthy will be found." +</P> + +<P> +"How? Who is looking for him while we waste time?" she asked hotly. +</P> + +<P> +"My arrangements," he stated quietly, "did not include useless running +around. I called upon our managing editor, laid the figures and +conclusive data before him, and convinced him that, besides securing an +excellent news story, he can serve the team and the ends of right and +justice by seeking Mr. McCarthy." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, what did he do?" demanded Mrs. Clancy, sadly out of patience +with his deliberate manner and rather flamboyant style of expression. +</P> + +<P> +"As a result of his interest in the matter," replied Technicalities, +"eight of the most highly trained men of his staff—men who know the +city better than anyone who lives in it does—are seeking Mr. McCarthy +with orders to find him to-night." +</P> + +<P> +"How did to-day's game come out?" inquired Miss Tabor, relieved. "I +almost forgot the game." +</P> + +<P> +"Our team was defeated, 8 to 6," replied Feehan quietly. "McCarthy's +absence already has cost us one game, and I greatly fear that unless he +plays to-morrow the Bears are defeated in the championship contest." +</P> + +<P> +"Glory be! I've dropped two more stitches!" said Mrs. Clancy. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap28"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXVIII +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +<I>Williams Stands Exposed</I> +</H4> + +<P> +"Now here's a bally nice mess of figures," said Kennedy, holding half a +dozen much-marked-upon sheets of writing paper in his inky fingers, and +looking across the table at Swanson, Norton and Holleran. +</P> + +<P> +"What are you figuring, Ken?" asked Holleran. +</P> + +<P> +"I've been trying to figure out this pennant race," said Kennedy +irritably. "Here we seem to be half a game ahead of the Panthers, and +yet, just because it rained on them yesterday, and they didn't have to +play but one game of their doubleheader, we've got to win two games to +beat them out if they win their one game to-day." +</P> + +<P> +He handed across a sheet of paper upon which was written: +</P> + +<PRE> + W. L. P.C. + Bears.......... 89 59 .600 + Panthers....... 91 61 .599 +</PRE> + +<BR> + +<P> +"Well, ain't we ahead of them?" asked Swanson, studying the figures. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, but look here. Supposing they win to-day and we win, we'll still +be ahead. But supposing they win to-day and we win, and then we lose +to-morrow. Look at this." +</P> + +<P> +He handed over another slip of paper, upon which was written: +</P> + +<PRE> + W. L. P.C. + Panthers....... 92 61 .601 + Bears.......... 90 60 .600 +</PRE> + +<BR> + +<P> +"If we don't win both these games, or if it don't rain here to-day, or +up home to-morrow, and keep us from playing, they beat us out by ten +thousandths, or thirteen hundred thousandths. Didn't I always say +thirteen was an unlucky number?" +</P> + +<P> +"I wonder who Clancy will send in to pitch to-day?" asked Kennedy, +idly. "Wilcox hasn't had enough rest. I suppose he'll be saved for +to-morrow. Jacobson isn't right, and Morgan worked yesterday and got +his trimmings. I suppose it'll be Williams." +</P> + +<P> +An ugly laugh greeted his sarcastic remark, and Norton opened his lips +as if to speak, but, thinking better of it, closed them again. +</P> + +<P> +At that moment a bell boy came into the writing room, paging Williams. +A quick exchange of glances between the players resulted and Swanson +asked, "Who wants Mr. Williams?" +</P> + +<P> +"Mr. Clancy, sir," said the boy. "He wants Mr. Williams in his room at +once." +</P> + +<P> +"Didn't I tell you?" said Kennedy, in mock triumph. +</P> + +<P> +"Say, fellows," added Swanson. "I'd give a month's pay to hear what +comes off up in that room. Clancy was on his ear this morning when I +came down. He'd been awake half the night, trying to get some word +from Kohinoor, and he was pretty well worked up. You know when he gets +started to telling a fellow what he thinks of him he does it so the +fellow believes it himself." +</P> + +<P> +"He sure can explain a fellow's shortcomings," said Kennedy. "Look, +the boy has found Williams and he is going up. He looks scared to +death." +</P> + +<P> +"Mamma, but I'd like to be among those present," said Swanson. "There +will be several developments. Hadn't we better put mattresses under +Clancy's window for Williams to light on?" +</P> + +<P> +Meantime, in Manager Clancy's room a scene was being staged that +fulfilled all the expectations of the players. Williams entered the +room with a swaggering pretense of ignorance of the nature of the +summons. +</P> + +<P> +"Morning, Manager," he said with an effort at innocent playfulness. +"How's things?" +</P> + +<P> +"Sit down, you crook!" +</P> + +<P> +Clancy had arisen as Williams entered. He shot the order at the +pitcher viciously and without warning, and, as he spoke, he stepped +past the player, and locked the door. +</P> + +<P> +Williams had gone pale. His mouth dropped open. He started to say +something, choked and sat down. +</P> + +<P> +"What—what do you mean?" he managed to stammer as Clancy came close +and stood over him threateningly. +</P> + +<P> +After his first outburst of rage Clancy was strangely quiet, speaking +in low tones, vibrating with repressed feeling. From the moment Barney +Baldwin had revealed to him his ownership of the Bears, and had issued +his positive orders that Williams should pitch the game, Clancy had +been fighting within himself, studying to find some plan of vengeance +that would strike all the plotters. Never for an instant had he +considered the thought of permitting the championship to be surrendered +by the orders of the owner. +</P> + +<P> +"Williams," he said, "you're a never-to-be-sufficiently-spit-upon cur. +You're the lowest, yellowest dog in the world. I've known for two +weeks that you have been trying to lose the pennant for us." +</P> + +<P> +"Shut up!" he snapped, lifting his voice sharply as the pitcher +attempted to speak. "I know what you've done and what you plan to do. +I know who is back of you"—— +</P> + +<P> +The pitcher cowered under the scathing denunciation and started as if +to rise. +</P> + +<P> +"Who—who's been telling you this stuff?" he quavered, terror-stricken. +</P> + +<P> +"You—you rat." Clancy's scorn stung like a lash and Williams +quivered. "I know everything. I've waited and watched when you +thought you were putting something over. I've waited for a chance to +get you"—— +</P> + +<P> +He paused a moment, while Williams, palsied with terror, sat unable to +answer. +</P> + +<P> +"And I've got you, Williams!" +</P> + +<P> +He shot the sentence at the pitcher, who half started from his seat, +lifting his hands as if to protect himself from attack. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm not going to choke you to death, I wouldn't soil my hands on you," +said the manager with a scornful laugh. +</P> + +<P> +"What are you going to do, Bill?" William's voice quivered. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm going to make you pitch to-day's game," said the manager quietly. +</P> + +<P> +A gasp of amazement and relief came from Williams. +</P> + +<P> +"You're going to pitch to-day's game, Williams," the manager repeated. +"And you're going to win it. You're going to win it, or if you don't +win I'll tell the crowd you were bribed, and I'll let the crowd handle +you. They'll tear you to pieces, Williams, and kick the pieces around +the diamond—and I'll help them do it." +</P> + +<P> +"You won't do anything to me if I win?" pleaded the pitcher. +</P> + +<P> +"No; I won't do a thing to you," said Clancy, and he spat as if to +relieve himself of a bad taste, as he turned and went out, locking the +door. +</P> + +<P> +"Good God, look at Clancy," whispered Swanson in awed tones as the +manager stepped out of the elevator a minute or two later. "He's in +his blackest form. I honestly pity Williams." +</P> + +<P> +"Swanson," said Clancy sharply. +</P> + +<P> +"What is it, Boss?" asked Swanson anxiously. +</P> + +<P> +"Nothing," snapped Clancy, "I want you to do something." +</P> + +<P> +"All right." +</P> + +<P> +"Williams is locked in my room. You watch the door. If he breaks out +kill him." +</P> + +<P> +He turned and stalked away like a man in a trance, leaving the big +shortstop staring after him. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap29"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXIX +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +<I>Found</I> +</H4> + +<P> +Technicalities Feehan was directing the hunt for Kohinoor McCarthy, the +missing third baseman of the Bears, even though it appeared to the two +women that he was wasting time. His easy confidence and certainty that +McCarthy would be found inspired something of the same spirit in Mrs. +Clancy and in Betty Tabor, and they found themselves enjoying the light +summer opera to which he had taken them, and later had laughed at his +quaint, droll tales of baseball and stories of his own experiences +during his long years of travel with the team. +</P> + +<P> +Feehan had found an appreciative audience at last, and it was half +after eleven before he broke off suddenly and announced that at +midnight he was to get reports of the results of the search and offer +his own services in the effort to find the missing player. +</P> + +<P> +"I will telephone you when I reach the office whether anything has been +ascertained," he promised, as he left them at their apartments. "After +that I will not disturb you until seven o'clock, unless McCarthy is +found. We must find him and get him to the station to catch the train +at 6.35 or our effort is wasted in so far as baseball is concerned, +although, of course, that will not cause us to cease our efforts." +</P> + +<P> +"You'll telephone me the moment you have news?" asked Miss Tabor. "Any +time—I shall not sleep much, any news—good—or bad." +</P> + +<P> +Feehan found the office force in the throes of getting out an edition, +and he sidled through the hurrying, jostling office force to the city +editor. +</P> + +<P> +"Any news?" he asked quietly. +</P> + +<P> +"Hello, Technicalities. Nothing yet. You take the case." +</P> + +<P> +Feehan hurried to his desk, instructed the telephone girls to connect +all reporters working on the McCarthy case with his desk, then +extracted a mass of papers from various pockets and commenced to study +and compile his unending statistics. +</P> + +<P> +The reporters engaged in the search were under instructions to report +at once any trace of the missing player and to report once an hour +their whereabouts and progress. Every five or ten minutes one +reported, and Feehan, laying aside his work, answered the call and +suggested new lines of investigations. +</P> + +<P> +Two o'clock came. The office was growing quieter. Weary news +gatherers slipped into their coats and departed quietly. Copy readers +and editors completed their tasks and went away. +</P> + +<P> +Three o'clock came, and Feehan was busy tabulating the statistics of +some player in a far-off league, when the telephone rang. By some +inspiration he knew a trail had been found and he reached for the +instrument with more haste than he had shown, his seventh sense +spurring him on. +</P> + +<P> +"Hello! Yes—that you, Jimmy?" +</P> + +<P> +"I've hit a trail." +</P> + +<P> +The voice was that of little Jimmy Eames, the most tireless and +persistent member of the force of news hounds employed by the paper. +</P> + +<P> +"Where?" Feehan was as calm as if only recording a fly out. +</P> + +<P> +"North Ninetieth Street Police Station," said Eames rapidly. "I picked +up a clue over on the other side of the city—inside police dope. Man +taken there last night in taxi. I'm off for there." +</P> + +<P> +Feehan pocketed his statistics and prepared for action. His voice had +ceased to drag. He uttered commands in sharp, quick words. Briefly he +detailed to each man as he called on the telephone the nature of +Eames's discovery. "Get to North Ninetieth Street Station." +</P> + +<P> +Thirty-five minutes after Eames flashed the first word to the office, +Cramer, the star police reporter, announced over the telephone. +</P> + +<P> +"McCarthy is in the black hole at North Ninetieth street. Orders from +captain. No one permitted to see him. Not booked. Sergeant in charge +don't know what he is accused of." +</P> + +<P> +"Get him out. Report in ten minutes." +</P> + +<P> +"Two hours and a half to get him out and put him on that train," Feehan +muttered. +</P> + +<P> +It was twelve minutes before Cramer called again. +</P> + +<P> +"Sergeant says he dares not turn the fellow loose. Don't know he is +McCarthy. Says orders are strict to keep him and to keep everyone away +from him." +</P> + +<P> +"Is he hurt?" +</P> + +<P> +"Turnkey says he has cut in head and bruised, but all right." +</P> + +<P> +"Pound him—pound the sergeant; make him act. Scare him! Who is the +captain?" +</P> + +<P> +"Raferty." +</P> + +<P> +"I'll reach him by 'phone." Feehan hung up the receiver. "Joe," he +said to the night man, "raise Minette, the office lawyer. Lives +somewhere up that way. His home is only a short distance from Judge +Manasse's house. Ask him for a writ of habeas corpus or something." +</P> + +<P> +Feehan was rapidly calling numbers. In fifteen minutes he had aroused +Captain Raferty. +</P> + +<P> +"Raferty," said the little man, "sorry to disturb you, but you've got a +man in the black hole in your station that we want." +</P> + +<P> +"Can't be done. Orders to hold him." +</P> + +<P> +"Orders from whom?" +</P> + +<P> +"Higher up." +</P> + +<P> +"How high?" +</P> + +<P> +"None of your business." +</P> + +<P> +"Raferty, I'm going to the top," said Feehan quickly. "If that man +isn't out by six o'clock, you'll be broken." +</P> + +<P> +"What's all this fuss about some skate?" Raferty was alarmed. "It +ain't any of my business. I'm told to hold him and not book him and I +do it. What have you got it in for me for?" +</P> + +<P> +"You'd better get to the station and get that man out or you'll have +this sheet all over you," threatened Feehan, transformed. "I'm going +higher now." +</P> + +<P> +He cut off the spluttering police captain in the midst of a snarling +complaint, half whine, half defiance. +</P> + +<P> +Half an hour of hard work brought the indignant superintendent of +police to the telephone. He curtly declined to interfere, denied all +knowledge of any such prisoner, and hung up the receiver while Feehan +was expostulating with him. +</P> + +<P> +The mild mannered, gentle little reporter was rising to the emergency. +He wiped his forehead free from the beads of sweat and looked at his +watch. It was two minutes to five when the night man reported again. +</P> + +<P> +"Minette's on his way to the station," he said. "He'll try to get +Judge Manasse to order the release, and he is carrying ten thousand +dollars in securities as a bond." +</P> + +<P> +"Good," said Feehan rapidly. "Give me Gracemont 1328," he called +quickly. +</P> + +<P> +"Going after the mayor?" inquired the night man casually. "He'll be +sore as a boil. Orders are not to disturb him after midnight." +</P> + +<P> +"I've got to get him," said Feehan. "We can't fall down now after +we've located McCarthy." +</P> + +<P> +There was no reply to the call for the mayor's telephone number, and +while waiting, Feehan slipped to another telephone and called the hotel +at which the ball players lived, asking for the Clancy apartments. +Betty Tabor answered the summons. +</P> + +<P> +"We've found him," said Feehan. "He's alive and well." +</P> + +<P> +"Where is he?" asked the girl breathlessly. +</P> + +<P> +"He's in a cell at the North Ninetieth Street Police Station—about +half a mile from your hotel. I want you to do something." +</P> + +<P> +"What is it?" she asked. "Hurry—I haven't undressed. Is there +anything I can do?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," he said. "He's locked up and we're tearing the town to pieces +trying to get him out of the station. It may be an hour—and he must +catch that train. Can you arrange at your hotel to have a fast taxi to +take him to the railroad station when he gets out, if there is a chance +to catch the train?" +</P> + +<P> +"Wait—yes, yes," she said eagerly. "The manager here has a fast +machine that he has been letting me use. I'll get it. The garage is +only a few doors." +</P> + +<P> +"You'll take him yourself?" he said in surprise. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," she said. "I must hurry." +</P> + +<P> +Again and again Feehan urged the telephone girl to try to get a reply +to the call for the mayor. Beads of sweat stood upon his face, as he +begged her to try again and summoned the manager to his assistance. He +glanced at his watch. It was eight minutes to six o'clock. +</P> + +<P> +"I must get him," he told the telephone girl for the dozenth time. +</P> + +<P> +"Sorry—no one will answer," she said wearily. "I've tried—wait a +minute, there's someone now." +</P> + +<P> +"Hello," said a hearty voice. +</P> + +<P> +"Your Honor"—Feehan's voice was pregnant with pleading—"this is +Feehan, the baseball writer." +</P> + +<P> +"Hello, Feehan," came the quick response. "Why aren't you with the +team, or did you just get in to honor me with this early call?" +</P> + +<P> +"Your Honor," pleaded Feehan, recalling suddenly that the mayor was an +ardent baseball "fan." "I've been searching for McCarthy. He's in the +North Ninetieth Street Station, held without being booked. I've been +trying for hours to get him out so he can join the team." +</P> + +<P> +"What charge?" demanded the mayor sharply. +</P> + +<P> +"No charge. He is being held to keep him from playing. If he doesn't +catch this morning's train the pennant is lost." +</P> + +<P> +"Here's where I make a pinch hit, then," said the mayor sharply. +</P> + +<P> +Feehan heard the receiver bang down. With a sigh of relief he hung up +his receiver and grinned at Joe. +</P> + +<P> +"He's a baseball fan," was all the explanation he offered. +</P> + +<P> +An anxious wait ensued, then Cramer telephones: +</P> + +<P> +"McCarthy just got out, mayor's orders. Pretty well bunged up, but +says he can play. He's gone with some girl in an auto. She was +waiting for him." +</P> + +<P> +Feehan glanced at his watch. It was 6.23. +</P> + +<P> +"Twelve minutes for two and a half miles," he muttered. "They'll just +make it." +</P> + +<P> +And with a sigh he picked up his scattered sheets and muttered: +</P> + +<P> +"Let's see, what did this fellow Houseman hit last season?" +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap30"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXX +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +<I>A Race to Save the Day</I> +</H4> + +<P> +Kohinoor McCarthy, emerging from his cell into the fetid atmosphere of +the receiving room of the police station, was met by Cramer, who broke +from the group of reporters, lawyers and police officials stirred to +activity at that early hour by the frantic efforts of Technicalities +Feehan. His head was rudely bandaged and his discolored face was +swollen and cut. +</P> + +<P> +There was no time for questionings. +</P> + +<P> +"Hurry, McCarthy," said Cramer. "There is an automobile outside +waiting to take you to the station. You have about a quarter of an +hour to catch the train." +</P> + +<P> +McCarthy, with a word of thanks, hastened through the station, leaped +down the steps with an agility that proved his injuries did not affect +his speed, and sprang to the car. +</P> + +<P> +The morning sun was just commencing to reach down into the cavern of +the street into which the car leaped, and it shone directly in their +eyes. The car lurched around a corner and swung into the avenue for +the race to the station. At that instant the girl's veil flapped back, +revealing her face. +</P> + +<P> +"Betty!" exclaimed McCarthy. "You"—— +</P> + +<P> +"You didn't know me?" she asked as she steadied the car and increased +its pace over the smooth asphalt. +</P> + +<P> +"Why are you here? What are you doing?" he asked in astonishment. +</P> + +<P> +"I had to come," she replied swiftly. "There was no one else. We must +catch the train. Don't talk, please." +</P> + +<P> +He leaned back wearily and watched the street as it seemed to flow past +them. +</P> + +<P> +"How much time have we?" he asked above the roaring of the wind. +</P> + +<P> +"The train leaves at 6.35," she called back, without lifting her eyes. +"Watch for clocks." +</P> + +<P> +She had increased the speed gradually and the light car jumped as it +struck a cross-town street-car track. Suddenly the car jolted, slid to +a quick stop and with an exclamation of despair the girl strove to +reverse and killed the engine. +</P> + +<P> +"The street is closed below," she said. "Crank up, the engine is dead." +</P> + +<P> +McCarthy leaped from the car and cranked rapidly. A precious minute +was lost before the engine throbbed and the girl, turning the car +quickly, ran back a block, swung across to a side street and raced for +the station. +</P> + +<P> +"The captain of the bell boys is waiting with the tickets. I sent him +before I left the hotel," she said without lifting her eyes. "Jump +from the car the moment I stop. He'll meet you at the gate." +</P> + +<P> +"Two minutes—can we make it?" he asked. +</P> + +<P> +"We'll try." Her face was set and white. She whirled the corner of +the avenue onto the side street at full speed. A block and a half away +was the station. The car was at racing speed now. The girl kept the +siren screaming, hoping for a clear way. They tore toward the +intersection of the streets—and directly ahead a lumbering team of +horses, drawing a heavy wagon, trundled across their path. With a +sudden swerve, a grinding of the emergency and a sickening lurch, the +car checked its mad flight, scraped past the rear of the wagon, and +gathering speed renewed the race against time. +</P> + +<P> +"Goodbye," he said, leaning suddenly inward as the car commenced to +lose momentum. "When I come back"—— +</P> + +<P> +"Hurry, hurry," she pleaded. "Run"—— +</P> + +<P> +He leaped before the car stopped and, with one glance back toward her, +sprinted down the long passageway. +</P> + +<P> +The gate was closing. He cried aloud, and ran faster. The gate +clanged. A boy in uniform ran to him and shoved tickets into his hands +as they ran side by side. +</P> + +<P> +"Open it! Let me through!" he screamed at the gateman, just starting +to lock the gate. +</P> + +<P> +McCarthy was sprinting desperately in pursuit of the train already half +way down the long train shed. He ran until his heart pounded audibly +against his ribs, straining every muscle, and crying for the train to +stop. Faster and faster it went, and, near the end of the station, +McCarthy realized he had lost the race and, stopping, he stood +dejectedly looking after the rapidly disappearing observation car. +</P> + +<P> +The gateman let him out with a sympathetic word, but he did not raise +his head. He knew that, 235 miles away, twenty men were hoping for his +arrival. He would hire a special train. He whirled at the +thought—and then remembered he was without money. +</P> + +<P> +He felt a hand touch his arm and, turning quickly, he saw Betty Tabor. +</P> + +<P> +"I missed it," he said, hopelessly. +</P> + +<P> +"I know, I know," she responded quickly. "The boy who had the tickets +told me. There is no time to lose. I have a plan." +</P> + +<P> +"A special train?" he asked. "I have no money." +</P> + +<P> +"The auto," she replied quickly. "I will drive it. I've driven it +hundreds of miles"—— +</P> + +<P> +"Betty," he expostulated, using her name unconsciously. "You +cannot—maybe we can find a driver." +</P> + +<P> +"I can and I will," she said decisively; "it is only 235 miles. We +have eight hours. We can make it. The car is fast and easy to handle." +</P> + +<P> +Still arguing, she led him back to the car, and they rode quickly back +to the hotel over part of the route they had traversed during their +wild flight. They breakfasted while the car was being prepared for the +run, studying road maps while they ate. +</P> + +<P> +"Betty, how can I ever thank you," he said, leaning forward over the +table. +</P> + +<P> +"By calling me Miss Tabor and winning the game to-day," she said, +coolly, without looking up from the maps. +</P> + +<P> +"The car is ready," the head waiter announced. "A good trip to you, +Miss Tabor." +</P> + +<P> +"You have a good driver, McCarthy," said the manager, who alone knew +the object of the trip. "She handles that car better than I do. I +have given her permission to tear it to pieces to get you through." +</P> + +<P> +The start was undramatic. The car rolled easily along to the drive and +presently was lifting and dropping over the hills of the splendid +speedway. A gentle breeze from the river fanned them as they rushed +through it. +</P> + +<P> +In five minutes they were clear of the congested traffic on the bridge +and the car, gathering speed, rushed into the hills on the opposite +side of the river. Five minutes later the car was quivering with its +increasing speed and McCarthy, looking at the gauge, saw that it +registered forty-seven miles, and was still sliding forward. Fourteen +miles across the rolling plateau the car raced with sustained speed, +the engine humming in perfect tune and only the heavier vibration of +the tires attesting the speed. At slower pace the car climbed among +the ridge of hills that had been rising ahead, and after five miles of +rougher going it turned into the old stage road. +</P> + +<P> +"It's five minutes past nine," said the girl, "and we've done more than +forty miles already. The next forty is good and we'll try to gain +time." +</P> + +<P> +"We ought to make it easily," he responded brightly. "You're a +heroine." +</P> + +<P> +"I do not know what the roads are beyond Hedgeport," she interrupted +anxiously. "It is hill country. It rained two days ago." +</P> + +<P> +She had steadily increased the speed again until the indicator kept +constantly around the forty-five mile mark. The speed was terrific and +made conversation almost impossible. +</P> + +<P> +"Hadn't you better rest? You must be tired," he screamed above the +noise of the car. +</P> + +<P> +"Arms are cramped," she replied, without lifting her eyes from the road +ahead. "We'll take gas at Hedgeport and walk around. We will lunch +somewhere near Hilton. We'll be over the worst of the road then." +</P> + +<P> +"I wish I could help you," called McCarthy, after a long silence. +</P> + +<P> +She shook her head, and, after the car had throbbed up the next incline +and was sailing, hawklike, down the opposite side, she said: +</P> + +<P> +"You'll need your strength for the game. There's Hedgeport now." +</P> + +<P> +Before them, set on the hillside, lay the little city. It seemed as if +the houses grew by magic as they rushed upon it. They flashed past a +few market wagons, passed another auto chugging along busily, and +slackened the pace as the car rolled upon the brick pavements and +toward the heart of the city. +</P> + +<P> +"A hundred and thirty-one miles in a little over three hours," said +McCarthy, elated. "That leaves us one hundred and four miles and more +than four hours to make it in. We've won." +</P> + +<P> +"The road has been perfect," Betty Tabor said. "For the next fifty +miles it is marked bad." +</P> + +<P> +She turned quietly to ask questions of the mechanician, who was +overhauling and examining every part of the machine, and examining the +feed pipes. Another man was filling the tanks and using oil +plentifully. +</P> + +<P> +"My hands and wrists are cramped and numb," she remarked, turning to +McCarthy. +</P> + +<P> +"Let the man drive the rest of the way. He knows the road," he urged. +</P> + +<P> +"And leave me—to miss the game?" she asked. "Not much. Rub my hands, +please." +</P> + +<P> +She extended her strong, firm hand and McCarthy, bending over it, +massaged and slapped it vigorously. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't break it, please," she said, laughing. "Take the other one." +</P> + +<P> +"Both," he whispered, his voice full of meaning. +</P> + +<P> +"All ready," announced the garage keeper. "I think she'll stand it +now." +</P> + +<P> +"It's 11.10," said McCarthy. "If we get there by three." +</P> + +<P> +"If we get there at all," she said, "even if you are late, you can get +into the game." +</P> + +<P> +For five miles they sped along over perfect roads, then suddenly a long +stretch of new macadam loomed ahead. For three miles they lurched and +struggled, and were free again, but the road was heavy and slow. Up +hill and down they fought the road, at times slipping, lurching and +skidding while the girl coaxed the car onward. The road grew worse and +worse. The hills were steeper. The rain-guttered mud at times almost +stalled the car. +</P> + +<P> +"Twenty miles in an hour and ten minutes," groaned McCarthy. "This +won't do." +</P> + +<P> +The next hour was even worse. The girl was showing signs of weariness +and the strain of holding the machine in the rough going. Three miles +of good road across a hill-top plateau raised their courage, then they +encountered sand. +</P> + +<P> +It was twenty minutes to two o'clock, when, mud splattered, they raced +into Hilton, with the car missing fire in one cylinder, the engine +smoking and gasoline almost exhausted. +</P> + +<P> +McCarthy almost lifted Betty Tabor from the car as they stopped at the +garage and she gave rapid directions to the manager, explaining the +need of haste. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm afraid the car won't get you through," he said, "but we'll try." +</P> + +<P> +"Have it ready at two o'clock," she ordered quickly. "We must get +through somehow." +</P> + +<P> +"It's thirty-four miles," he said. "But the roads are fair. If the +car was in shape it would be easy." +</P> + +<P> +"We'll eat lunch while you overhaul it," she replied. +</P> + +<P> +McCarthy secured the lunch from the car and they spread it upon the +grass in the yard and ate. The girl was too weary for conversation, +but as she ate she seemed to gain strength and courage. +</P> + +<P> +"We'll get there before the game is over, anyhow," she said quietly. +"I want to see Williams's face when you come onto the field." +</P> + +<P> +"I thought you and he"—— +</P> + +<P> +"I never have liked him," she interrupted quickly. +</P> + +<P> +Three minutes before the town clock chimed the hour of two in Hilton, +the machine, again running smoothly, shot out from the garage. Its +occupants, refreshed and more cheerful, faced the final stretch of the +long race. +</P> + +<P> +"Fourteen miles in twenty-one minutes," cried McCarthy, as the mile +posts flashed by. "We'll be there." +</P> + +<A NAME="img-311"></A> +<CENTER> +<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-311.jpg" ALT=""FOURTEEN MILES IN TWENTY-ONE MINUTES"" BORDER="2" WIDTH="405" HEIGHT="639"> +<H4 CLASS="h4center" STYLE="width: 405px"> +"FOURTEEN MILES IN TWENTY-ONE MINUTES" +</H4> +</CENTER> + +<P> +Ten minutes later the smoke haze that hangs eternally over the great +city of the Blues was visible. The country homes along the road over +which they sped were closer and closer together. +</P> + +<P> +"Only ten more miles," McCarthy shouted triumphantly. +</P> + +<P> +"We can cut across to the west here," she said as she swung the car +into an avenue. "This goes near the ball park and we'll save three +miles." +</P> + +<P> +"Hurray," he shouted. "Then it's only seven miles." +</P> + +<P> +The girl did not reply. She was weary and her fair face showed haggard +lines. Their progress became slower, although two or three times +policemen turned to watch them, as if to interfere. +</P> + +<P> +The grandstand was close now. The steady roar of the huge crowd inside +pulsed and beat upon them. A bell rang. +</P> + +<P> +"That's either game time or last fielding practice," screamed McCarthy. +"Hurry, please, hurry." +</P> + +<P> +The car suddenly swung out of the line, sent a swarm of pedestrians +scurrying, and jarred to a stop at the entrance marked "Players." +</P> + +<P> +"Betty," said McCarthy, as he started to lift her from the car—— +</P> + +<P> +"Hurry," she said, faint from weariness and the reaction. "You must +dress." +</P> + +<P> +He ran stiffly toward the dressing room under the stand. Bill Tascott, +the umpire, was just starting toward the field. +</P> + +<P> +"McCarthy!" he exclaimed at sight of the specter covered with mud and +with cut and bruised features. +</P> + +<P> +"Bill, don't start the game yet," panted McCarthy beseechingly. "Wait +till I dress. Please tell Clancy I'm here." +</P> + +<P> +"I'll tell him. I'll delay the game. Can you play?" said the umpire +rapidly. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes—give me time to dress." +</P> + +<P> +Jack, the trainer, quiet after his first outburst of surprise, was +preparing the hot shower and working like mad over the weary player and +when Clancy, summoned by a quiet word from the umpire, rushed into the +player's room, McCarthy was sighing luxuriously as the trainer soaked +his weary, cramped limbs with witch hazel. +</P> + +<P> +"Hurry, Jack," ordered Clancy as he squeezed McCarthy's hands. "I knew +you'd come, Kohinoor." +</P> + +<P> +"Am I in time?" asked the player. "Get my uniform out, please." +</P> + +<P> +"Just in time. Good old Bill Tascott is delaying the game. You ought +to see him raising cain over his mask being lost. He hid it in our +bench and is accusing the Blues of stealing it. He won't start the +game until you are ready." +</P> + +<P> +In five minutes they rushed him toward the little gate by which the +players enter the field from under the stands, just in time to hear +Bill Tascott announce: +</P> + +<P> +"Batteries for to-day's game—Wiley and Kirkpatrick for the Blues; +Williams and Kennedy for the Bears." He glanced toward the group +emerging from under the stands and his voice rang with gladness as he +yelled, in louder tones: +</P> + +<P> +"McCarthy will play third base." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap31"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXXI +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +<I>The Plotters Foiled</I> +</H4> + +<P> +The gasp of astonishment with which the crowd greeted the announcement +that Williams would pitch gave way quickly to a cry of surprise that +rose to a roar of applause when Bill Tascott announced that McCarthy +would play third base. +</P> + +<P> +He walked slowly out toward third base, the huge arm of Swanson, who +with a bellow of gladness had raced to meet and embrace him, around his +shoulders, while the great crowd stood and howled with excitement and +hummed with curiosity as to the explanation of his reappearance. Had +Clancy tricked the Blues and produced his third baseman at the dramatic +instant, hoping to unnerve them? Had McCarthy been hurt? A thousand +conjectures and questions flashed around the field. +</P> + +<P> +The announcement by Bill Tascott was a double shock to two persons +sitting in one of the front boxes near the Bears' bench. Barney +Baldwin brought his fat hand down with a thump upon the shoulders of +the rat-faced, cold-eyed man who sat next to him, and shouted, "I told +you so!" +</P> + +<P> +Easy Ed Edwards, paler than usual, turned angrily toward the +politician, restrained himself, and resumed his steady scrutiny of the +field. When the umpire announced McCarthy playing third, Baldwin, in +his astonishment, half arose and Edwards started quickly. +</P> + +<P> +"Sit down, you fool," he said sharply. "We're in enough trouble +without you giving us away. Clancy was watching us from the bench. +They're wise to you." +</P> + +<P> +"To me!" ejaculated Baldwin. "I like your nerve"—— +</P> + +<P> +"You're the only one they can connect with McCarthy's—accident," he +said coldly. "There'll be h—— to pay at home." +</P> + +<P> +McCarthy's head was bandaged afresh, strips of court-plaster decorated +his face, and even from the stands the black bruises around his eyes +were visible. +</P> + +<P> +Nearly forty thousand persons were watching, unaware of the full +meaning of the complex drama they were witnessing. McCarthy was so +astonished at hearing that Williams was pitching that he turned to +Swanson. +</P> + +<P> +"What does it mean, Silent?" he asked anxiously. +</P> + +<P> +"Clancy made him pitch," whispered Swanson rapidly as they went toward +the bench. "He has had him locked in his room all day and Williams is +scared stiff. Look at him." +</P> + +<P> +The pitcher was white to the mouth, and he licked his lips nervously as +if in a fever, as he sat during the first inning while his own team +endeavored to make a run. Clancy, his face hard, sat next to him, +terrible in his rigidity. +</P> + +<P> +Three of the Bears retired in rapid order and the team raced for the +field. A roar of applause greeted them, and as McCarthy ran along in +front of the stands, the applause followed him like a wave. It was +clear some hint of the truth was spreading through the crowd. Williams +hung back when the team started for the field. +</P> + +<P> +"I can't, Bill. Oh, God, I can't," he wailed. "Please"—— +</P> + +<P> +"Get out there and pitch! Pitch whatever Kennedy signals for, and if +you don't"—— +</P> + +<P> +"I'll try, Bill. But if"—— +</P> + +<P> +"There are no ifs," snarled the manager, half rising. +</P> + +<P> +Williams walked to his position, a glare of terror in his eyes, as if +he contemplated flight. He was wild and erratic at the start. Two +balls sailed wide from the plate, and Swanson ran to him. +</P> + +<P> +"Get that next one over or I'll signal Clancy," he said. +</P> + +<P> +Williams put every ounce of power into his throwing arm, and the ball +cut the heart of the plate, jumping. +</P> + +<P> +"The old hop on it!" yelled McCarthy. "That's pitching, Adonis; that's +pitching." +</P> + +<P> +Williams stood staring toward him as if dumfounded. A grateful look +came into his eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"Now the old hook, Adonis," yelled McCarthy. "Something on every one +to-day, remember!" +</P> + +<P> +An outburst of cheering arose from the crowd. Those who had heard or +read the stories and rumors of the enmity between the two thought they +recognized the magnanimity of the third baseman and admired him. +Another strike whizzed over the plate, and a fast ball hopped while the +batter swung. The strike out was greeted with a howl of applause. +Williams glanced toward the stands. His eyes met those of Edwards +fixed upon him, and his nerve broke. He pitched without looking to see +what Kennedy signaled, and "Sacred" White, the center fielder of the +Blues, drove the ball to left center for three bases. Kennedy gave a +quick glance at Clancy, who sat staring straight ahead. Swanson rushed +upon Williams, who, trembling with fear, waved him back. He pitched +desperately, but Wertheim hit a long fly to center and "Sacred" White +scampered home. +</P> + +<P> +"I didn't do it, Bill. Honestly, I didn't," pleaded Williams, as he +returned to the bench and resumed his seat next to the manager. +</P> + +<P> +"Williams," said Clancy coldly, "you pitched without a signal. I've +got men in the stands to pass circulars telling exactly what you have +done. If that happens again I'll signal them, and when the crowd gets +you, may the Lord have mercy"—— +</P> + +<P> +"I'll pitch—I was trying," begged the pitcher. "Don't turn the crowd +loose on me. They'll kill me." +</P> + +<P> +"Then win," ordered Clancy. +</P> + +<P> +The fifth came with the score 1 to 0 and Wiley pitching at his best. +Williams had lost some of his nervousness. Either he had made up his +mind to betray Edwards, and strive to win, or he was pitching, as he +thought, for his life. His fast ball was cutting the plate, and even +when the Blues hit it they popped the ball into the air for easy outs. +The last half of the fifth started. Williams, glancing toward the +stand as he walked out to the slab, saw Edwards. Edwards made a quick +signal with his hand and turned his face away. Williams went to the +slab entirely unnerved. He was wild, and a base on balls gave the +Blues another opening. Instantly Swanson charged upon him and renewed +his threats, and Williams, after pitching two more balls wild, got one +over the plate, and Henderson sacrificed, putting Hickman on second. +Kirkpatrick drove a hard bounder at Norton, who fumbled, recovered, +threw wild and Malone scored. +</P> + +<P> +McCarthy was feeling deadly weary. The racking ride in the automobile, +the injuries received at the hands of Edwards and his prize-fighter +employe, the loss of sleep and the anxiety, added to the strain of the +game, had sapped his youthful vitality. Williams, under the dire +threats of Clancy, Kennedy and Swanson, was pitching steadily. He was +inspired now by a new hope: That he might lose the game and not be +blamed for defeat and at the same time escape the vengeance of Edwards +by pretending he lost it purposely. +</P> + +<P> +"We ought to get at him this time, boys," called Swanson, as the Bears +opened their eighth inning. "We've got to. Look out there—at the +score board—the Panthers are winning, 4 to 1, and it means the +pennant." +</P> + +<P> +Suddenly Noisy Norton, the silent man, sprang to his feet and rushed to +the coaching lines. +</P> + +<P> +"Wow! Little of the old pep, boys!" he yelled. +</P> + +<P> +"Whoop! We've got it won now. Noisy is coaching. Come on, boys—get +at them!" yelled Swanson. +</P> + +<P> +Out by first base, Norton, who had never been on the coaching lines in +the five years he had played with the Bears, was ranting and screaming +like a wild man. The spirit of the thing came over the Bears. +Kennedy, rushing to the bat, cracked the first ball that Wiley pitched +to center for a single. A moment later little McBeth, who had been +fretting his soul out on the bench for three months, leaped toward the +bat like a hound unleashed. He never had played in a major league game +before, and Wiley teased him into swinging at two slow twisters, then +attempted to waste a curve high and outside the plate. The boy, his +teeth set, waded into the ball, drove it over third for a base hit, +and, with runners on first and third, Swanson came rushing up and drove +a line single to left that scored Kennedy and sent the speedy little +McBeth scurrying around to third. +</P> + +<P> +McCarthy was coming to bat. He swung two bats, testing their weight, +and walked toward the plate. The excitement of the rally had revived +his waning strength and stirred his jaded nerves. Swanson signaled his +intention to steal on the first ball pitched. McCarthy crouched, and +as the ball came he swung viciously at it, not intending to hit it, but +to give Swanson the advantage by hampering the catcher. The strike was +wasted, as the catcher, knowing the speed of McBeth, bluffed at +throwing, and held the ball, hoping to lure the substitute off third +base and let Swanson reach second without trouble. +</P> + +<P> +The next ball McCarthy fouled against the stands for a second strike. +A great dread came over him as he heard the roar of the crowd. He +turned to watch the Blue's catcher recover the ball, and at that +instant he saw the face of Betty Tabor, strained, white, beseeching, as +the girl, still mud-splattered and stained from the long race, leaned +forward. Her face revealed all the hopes and fears that surged within +her. As McCarthy's heart leaped with grim resolve he saw another face +that caused him to step back out of the batter's box and, while +pretending to rub dirt upon his hands, to glance again. +</P> + +<P> +James Lawrence, his uncle and guardian, was sitting in the box next to +that in which Betty Tabor was voicelessly beseeching him to win the +game. +</P> + +<P> +"Hit it, Larry—hit it!" +</P> + +<P> +The sound of the name called by the familiar voice, the sight of the +agony in the girl's face, spurred him to desperation. He delayed, +wiped his hands carefully, stepped into position and waited. Wiley +wound up. A fast curve flashed toward the plate. McCarthy took one +step forward, snapped his bat against the ball. The Blues' third +baseman leaped wildly, stuck up one hand, the ball went on, struck two +feet inside the foul line, and before it ceased rolling around the +stands two runs were across the plate. McCarthy was on third, and the +Bears were in the lead. +</P> + +<P> +The inning ended with McCarthy still on third, and the score 3 to 2 in +favor of the Bears. +</P> + +<P> +Wilcox, who had been kept warmed up during the entire game, ready to +rush to the slab if Williams weakened, went in to pitch and held the +Blues in the eighth, and in their ninth the Bears drew a blank. +</P> + +<P> +McCarthy knew he was very weary. Only by his will power did he make +his tired, aching limbs obey his brain. He ached in every muscle, and +his brain seemed dulled. Gallagher hit a long fly to Pardridge. +Swanson was still shouting, urging Wilcox to cinch the victory, +encouraging, leading, fighting with every nerve for the victory. +Henderson drove a two-base hit to center field, and Swanson redoubled +his efforts to brace the team against a rally that might rob them of +their victory. Kirkpatrick, a dangerous hitter at any time, drove a +fast bounder at Norton. The little second baseman set himself for the +ball. It took a bad bounce, struck his wrist and rolled away only a +few feet. He was after it in an instant, but he knew that +Kirkpatrick's terrific speed would get him to first ahead of the ball. +As Norton's fingers gripped the ball he thought of another play. +Henderson would go to third on the fumble, turn the base, look to see +where the ball was, and if it had broken through the infield far +enough, he would try to score. For an instant, Norton knew, the runner +would halt, undecided, six feet from third, and if the ball was +there—— Without looking, Norton hurled the ball toward third. +McCarthy saw it coming. He realized the play that Norton had attempted +to make to save the day. He grabbed the ball and dived desperately +between the runner and the bag. Henderson, trapped, leaped back toward +the base, feet first. McCarthy felt the shock of the collision, felt +the spikes bite into his arm, and he held his ground, blocking the +runner away. He heard Bill Tascott's cry of "Out!" and, dazed, hurt +and dizzy, he arose slowly and tossed the ball back to Wilcox. +Trentman, the great pinch hitter of the Blues, was sent in to attempt +to snatch victory from defeat. Twice he drove fierce line fouls past +third base, then he lifted a high foul and, as the ball settled into +Kennedy's mitt, McCarthy swayed upon his feet. +</P> + +<P> +"Help me, Silent; I'm all in." +</P> + +<P> +Through the eddying, shouting, scrambling crowd that had swarmed +cheering upon the field, Swanson half led, half carried his exhausted +mate. +</P> + +<P> +They had pressed close to the exit to the club dressing rooms, when +suddenly a great shout smote the air. A tremor of fresh excitement ran +through the crowd. +</P> + +<P> +"What is it, Silent?" asked McCarthy anxiously. +</P> + +<P> +"It's the Scoreboard!" yelled Swanson. "Look! The Jackrabbits scored +five in the eighth inning and beat the Panthers out, 6 to 4. Boy, +we're champions!" +</P> + +<P> +McCarthy did an odd thing. He slid quietly to the ground in a faint, +and they carried him to the dressing rooms. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap32"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXXII +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +<I>Rejoicing</I> +</H4> + +<P> +McCarthy slept the deep, dreamless sleep of exhaustion. He slept all +the way during the homeward journey, waking refreshed and only a trifle +stiff when he was called early in the morning to disembark. He and +Swanson rode to the hotel in a taxicab, anxious to escape from the +crowds that gathered to witness the arrival of the champions after +their sensational victory. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't run," urged Swanson, "I'm a hog for punishment of this kind. I +could stand around all year and let these people cheer me. It sounds +good after what I've heard them say. See that big fellow, yelling his +head off, there? He's the same one that yelled 'rotten' at me for two +months in the middle of the season." +</P> + +<P> +"Let's have breakfast up in the room," urged McCarthy. "Get them to +send up all the morning papers. I want to read what they say about the +game." +</P> + +<P> +"They say enough, judging from the headlines," replied Swanson. "Let's +eat down here and bask in the admiration of these fellows who have been +calling us dubs. Pose for them, Kohinoor! You're a hero! Don't you +know a hero has to stand on his pedestal all day and smile? Smile, +darn you!" +</P> + +<P> +In spite of the giant's good-natured badinage they hurried to their +rooms and ordered breakfast and newspapers. +</P> + +<P> +"They've got most of the story," said McCarthy. "They have written a +lot of guff about—— Oh, they make a heroine out of Miss Tabor. Look +at her picture. Where did they get it? I never had one." +</P> + +<P> +"Get the original," said Swanson gruffly, his mouth full of toast. +"See this: Easy Ed Edwards has run. He skipped before the game was +over, and the paper says he has carried off a hundred thousand dollars +in money that was bet with him and is fleeing to Europe." +</P> + +<P> +"Williams made his getaway, too," said McCarthy, eagerly scanning the +papers. +</P> + +<P> +"Where did he go? I saw him slide off the bench in the eighth while we +were scoring and start toward the club house. Guess he was afraid of +Edwards." +</P> + +<P> +"Darn the luck," growled Swanson. "Here's all that stuff about Kennedy +and me being licked in the saloon. The whole story is out." +</P> + +<P> +"There's one thing I want to find out," said Swanson, clenching his +fist. "And that is who the big guy was that Edwards hired as his +slugger. The season won't be complete until I hook this old grounder +grabber of mine on his jaw." +</P> + +<P> +"I've got a bit of business," announced McCarthy, after an hour of +excited conversation. +</P> + +<P> +"Wait till she gets through breakfast," insinuated Swanson insultingly. +"Going to desert your old pal for a skirt so soon?" +</P> + +<P> +"Aw, shut up," said McCarthy. "I've got to thank her, haven't I?" +</P> + +<P> +Swanson was silent for an instant. A serious expression came over his +homely, good-natured face. +</P> + +<P> +"I hope you win her, Kohinoor," he said, simply, putting his big arm +across McCarthy's shoulders. "You deserve her—I wanted her myself, +once." +</P> + +<P> +Without another word he went over and sat down, picking up a paper, and +McCarthy, walking to him, said: +</P> + +<P> +"I'm sorry, Silent, maybe"—— +</P> + +<P> +"No maybe about it," said Swanson without looking up, "I lost, long +ago." +</P> + +<P> +McCarthy descended two flights of stairs and knocked timidly at the +door of the Clancy apartments. He expected to find Betty Tabor with +Mrs. Clancy, but the girl was alone, the Clancys not having finished +their breakfast. +</P> + +<P> +"Betty," he exclaimed, taking both her outstretched hands, "Betty—I +had to come—I wanted to tell you—I love you." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh," she said in surprise, "I"—— +</P> + +<P> +His arm slipped around her waist and he drew her close. +</P> + +<P> +"I have loved you from the first," he said, pleadingly. "I wanted to +tell you yesterday. I thought you cared then; you do care for me, +don't you?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, Larry," she said softly, hiding her face. "I think I have—from +the first." +</P> + +<P> +"From the first—the very first, dearest?" he asked tenderly. "From +the day we met—years ago?" +</P> + +<P> +"Years ago?" she asked in surprise. "Then you are? Yes, you are; you +must be the little boy who was crying in the train? I knew when you +came with the club we had met somewhere, and I could not remember +where." +</P> + +<P> +"Did you remember the little boy?" he asked. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, Larry," she said "I never have forgotten. I used to pray for him +every night; that he might be happy in his new home. I kept the +picture of him that was taken at Portland and I often have thought of +him." +</P> + +<P> +"It must have been meant that we should meet, dearest," he whispered. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, Larry," she replied softly. +</P> + +<P> +He kissed her and held her close. +</P> + +<P> +"Larry!" he exclaimed. "Where did you learn my name, sweetheart?" +</P> + +<P> +"The old gentleman in the box next to us at the game called you +Larry—and it seemed to fit you better than Jim does." She laughed. +</P> + +<P> +"He is my uncle—my father, almost. You will meet him soon, and then I +will explain how I became McCarthy." +</P> + +<P> +At that instant Manager Clancy and his wife entered abruptly, followed +by Technicalities Feehan. Betty Tabor blushed and struggled to +extricate herself from McCarthy's arms, but he held her close and +announced: +</P> + +<P> +"Betty has just promised to become my wife." +</P> + +<P> +A shower of congratulation followed, and Mrs. Clancy became so excited +she dropped her fancy work and kissed both, then kissed Feehan, and +that surprised reporter dropped his precious manuscript in his +embarrassment. +</P> + +<P> +A few moments after McCarthy left his room to make the call that +resulted in his happiness being established, Swanson was aroused from +his reverie by insistent rapping upon the door, and in response to his +welcoming cry, a tall, slender old man with bristling moustache, +stormed into the apartment. +</P> + +<P> +"Where's that young scoundrel who calls himself McCarthy?" he demanded, +brandishing his cane threateningly. +</P> + +<P> +"Hello, grandpaw," said Swanson. "Who dealt you a hand?" +</P> + +<P> +"You're another one of those rascally ballplayers!" charged the man +violently. "I know you—you've been leading my nephew into all sorts +of wild scrapes, disgracing the family"—— +</P> + +<P> +"You Kohinoor's uncle?" howled Swanson joyously as he sprang up and +seized the old gentleman with a bear hug and waltzed him around. +"Welcome to our fair city, uncle. I adopt you right now. Kohinoor is +my chum. How does it seem to be the uncle of a hero?" +</P> + +<P> +"Release me, you scoundrel," puffed the uncle. "Release me or I'll +cane you! Where is he?" +</P> + +<P> +"Truth is, uncle, he's gone skirting," said Swanson, releasing his +victim. +</P> + +<P> +"Gone where?" asked the uncle. +</P> + +<P> +"Skirting—calling on a girl—and between you and me, uncle, he's got +the best chance to win her, and she's worth winning." +</P> + +<P> +"What, another?" demanded the uncle. "Then he hasn't eloped with that +blond niece of that crook, Baldwin?" +</P> + +<P> +"Not on your life," said Swanson, "he's won the best little girl in the +world." +</P> + +<P> +In five minutes they were laughing and chatting like old friends, and +the uncle was boasting of his nephew's prowess at baseball. +</P> + +<P> +"Hang it," he stormed, "I ought to cane him, the young rascal, for +treating me this way. He never let me know he was playing, and I only +got to see one game. But wasn't that a—what do you call it—a corker?" +</P> + +<P> +"Let's go to them," proposed Swanson. +</P> + +<P> +And into the tableau of congratulations that was being presented in the +Clancy apartment Swanson burst, leading the old gentleman, who was +struggling to smile and to be angry at the same time. +</P> + +<P> +"Look who's here," he shouted. "Kohinoor's uncle, and from the looks +of things he has arrived just at the right minute to give his blessing." +</P> + +<P> +"Uncle Jim," exclaimed McCarthy, stepping forward quickly. +</P> + +<P> +"Larry, you young rascal!—Larry"—— +</P> + +<P> +His voice broke and tears rolled down his cheeks as he put his arm +around the boy's neck and wept. "Larry, you young scoundrel, what did +you mean by running away from your old uncle?" +</P> + +<P> +"Uncle Jim," said McCarthy seriously, as he put his arm around the old +man's waist, "I was a fool. I found it out and I was coming home to +tell you I was wrong and beg you to forgive me, but I could not leave +the team when it needed me. I was only a foolish boy. If you can +forgive"—— +</P> + +<P> +"It's all right now, Larry, boy," said the old man, wiping his eyes and +laughing happily. "I was certain you'd come to your senses and find +you didn't love that girl." +</P> + +<P> +"I am certain you will not object to the young lady I am going to +marry, Uncle Jim"—— +</P> + +<P> +"Marry!" cried Mr. Lawrence angrily. "Nonsense! You're not going to +marry anyone! Here we just make up and you want to start the quarrel +all over again. Marry? You young scoundrel! You're going to stay at +home with me"—— +</P> + +<P> +"Don't say that until you meet her, Uncle Jim," and, putting his arm +around Betty Tabor's waist, he said, "Uncle Jim, I want you to meet +Miss Betty Tabor, who has just honored me by promising to become my +wife." +</P> + +<P> +"Why, bless my heart! Bless my heart!" exclaimed the old man in +surprise. "If it isn't the young woman who sat in the box next to me +at the game! I fell in love with you, my dear, when you applauded +Larry. Marry her? If you don't marry her, you young rascal, I'll cut +you off in my will. Not a penny, you understand—not a penny." +</P> + +<P> +He kissed Betty Tabor gallantly while the others laughed and he bowed +low over Mrs. Clancy's hand as Kohinoor presented him to the manager +and his wife. +</P> + +<P> +"Are you the Mr. Lawrence they call the Lumber King in Oregon?" +inquired Clancy, as he shook hands. +</P> + +<P> +"They call me that out there," said the old man, testily. "Call +themselves democratic—then King everyone who makes a few dollars—bah." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh," exclaimed Miss Tabor, in sudden alarm. "Then Larry is rich?" +</P> + +<P> +"Never mind that, sweetheart," he said, consolingly. "We can live on +my baseball salary if Uncle Jim cuts us off." +</P> + +<P> +"Cut you off, nonsense!" the old man exclaimed testily. "You'll have +all my money if you behave yourself and obey me. Young scoundrel never +would obey me." +</P> + +<P> +"I've learned to obey in baseball, uncle," replied Kohinoor seriously. +"Ask Mr. Clancy if I haven't." +</P> + +<P> +"I'm so glad, Larry," said Miss Tabor brightly, "that you asked me +before I knew you were going to be rich." +</P> + +<P> +"Young rascal must have learned some sense," growled his uncle. "He +picked out just the girl I wanted him to. When I saw you at the game, +my dear, I said to myself: 'Now if Larry would only choose a girl like +that, I'd make her my daughter.'" +</P> + +<P> +"You're the worst flatterer of them all—Mr.—Lawrence," said the girl, +blushing and laughing. +</P> + +<P> +"You must call me Uncle Jim, my dear," he insisted in his most +tyrannical tones. "And understand, Miss, I'm boss of this family." +</P> + +<P> +"By the way, Kirkland," said Technicalities Feehan, who had been busily +engaged studying some statistics he had taken from his pocket, "what +did you hit the last year you were at Cascade College?" +</P> + +<P> +"Kirkland?" exclaimed Miss Tabor. "Then your name isn't James +Lawrence?" +</P> + +<P> +"I forgot," he responded, laughing at her bewilderment. "Your name +will be Mrs. James Lawrence Kirkland; I was named for Uncle Jim. How +did you find it out?" he added, turning to Feehan. +</P> + +<P> +"I knew it the second day you were with the Bears," replied Feehan. "I +have all your records, excepting those of your final year at the +university. Did you hit .332 or .318? The records do not agree." +</P> + +<P> +Ten days later, on the night after the Bears triumphantly won the +World's Championship, there was a jolly party in the banquet hall of +one of the great hotels. Jimmy McCarthy was giving a farewell dinner +to his friends and comrades of the Bear team. The dinner had been +eaten, the toasts to the team and its manager drunk, and McCarthy arose. +</P> + +<P> +"Boys," he said, "I'm not going to try to make a speech. I want to +thank you all for your kindness to the tramp who came to you when he +needed friends. And now my uncle has a little announcement to make +which I know you all will be glad to hear." +</P> + +<P> +A round of applause greeted the testy old gentleman as he arose, +scolding his nephew for calling upon him. In the ten days that he had +traveled with them he had become the idol of the Bears, and he proudly +claimed credit for their victories, declared he was their mascot, and +called each one by his first name. +</P> + +<P> +"Nothing at all. Just a little matter," he said, testily. "Young +rascal shouldn't have mentioned it. All it amounts to is that +yesterday I bought Baldwin's stock in this ball club. He's a disgrace +to the business. I made him sell out. I'm holding the stock for +Clancy. He can have it at the price I paid any time he gets the money. +Just bought it to get that crook, Baldwin, out." +</P> + +<P> +He sat down amid a riot of cheering, while Clancy, who had not been +informed of the deal, arose and stammered his bewildered thanks, as he +strove to realize that a fortune had been thrust upon him. When the +excitement had died down and a toast to Mr. Lawrence had been proposed +and drunk standing, Betty Tabor, flushed, and appearing prettier than +ever, arose. +</P> + +<P> +"Boys," she said, in her low, steady tones, "I have an important +announcement to make, one which, I believe, will please you almost as +well as the one we just heard did." +</P> + +<P> +She hesitated and smiled down upon her future husband, who sat beside +her. +</P> + +<P> +"Boys," she continued, after a moment, "I have consented to permit +Larry to play ball with you next season, if he will allow me to travel +with the team at least one trip." +</P> + +<P> +Noisy Norton sprang upon his chair, his glass held aloft and cried: +</P> + +<P> +"To the bride, the groom and another pennant." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<P CLASS="finis"> +THE END. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR><BR> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Jimmy Kirkland and the Plot for a +Pennant, by Hugh S. 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Fullerton + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Jimmy Kirkland and the Plot for a Pennant + +Author: Hugh S. Fullerton + +Illustrator: Charles Paxson Gray + +Release Date: April 18, 2010 [EBook #32044] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK JIMMY KIRKLAND--PLOT FOR PENNANT *** + + + + +Produced by Al Haines + + + + + + + + + +[Illustration: Cover art] + + + + +[Frontispiece: "Now kick his shins"] + + + + + +JIMMY KIRKLAND + +AND THE + +PLOT FOR A PENNANT + + +BY + +HUGH S. FULLERTON + + + +ILLUSTRATED BY + +CHARLES PAXSON GRAY + + + + +PHILADELPHIA + +THE JOHN C. WINSTON COMPANY + +PUBLISHERS + + + + +Copyright, 1915, by + +JOHN C. WINSTON COMPANY + + +PRINTED IN U. S. A. + + + + + To + + CHARLES A. COMISKEY + + The man to whom, more than all others, the honesty + and high standard of professional baseball is + due, this little volume is dedicated with the sincere + regard of a student to his preceptor. + + + + +CONTENTS + + +CHAPTER + + I. PANTHERS OR BEARS? + II. A MIRACLE CALLED MCCARTHY + III. HOPE FOR THE BEARS + IV. "KOHINOOR" MEETS BETTY + V. THE TEMPTER + VI. ADONIS MAKES A DEAL + VII. MCCARTHY MEETS HELEN + VIII. IN THE DEEPER WATERS + IX. BALDWIN GETS INTO THE PLOT + X. WILLIAMS CAUGHT IN THE NET + XI. MCCARTHY IN DISGRACE + XII. MCCARTHY DEFIES BALDWIN + XIII. MCCARTHY BALKS THE PLOTTERS + XIV. "TECHNICALITIES" ON THE JOB + XV. BALDWIN BAITS A TRAP + XVI. MCCARTHY MAKES A CALL + XVII. THE FIGHT IN THE CAFE + XVIII. TWO MISSING MEN + XIX. SWANSON TO THE RESCUE + XX. HIDDEN FOES + XXI. FAIR PLAY + XXII. A VICTORY AND A DEFEAT + XXIII. KIDNAPPED + XXIV. BAITING A TRAP + XXV. MCCARTHY DISAPPEARS + XXVI. BALDWIN SHOWS HIS HAND + XXVII. SEARCHING + XXVIII. WILLIAMS STANDS EXPOSED + XXIX. FOUND + XXX. A RACE TO SAVE THE DAY + XXXI. THE PLOTTERS FOILED + XXXII. REJOICING + + + + +ILLUSTRATIONS + + +"NOW KICK HIS SHINS" . . . . . . . . . . . . Frontispiece + +BALDWIN STARED AT THE SLENDER YOUTH + +THE MEN LEAPED OUT + +"FOURTEEN MILES IN TWENTY-ONE MINUTES" + + + + +JIMMY KIRKLAND AND A PLOT FOR A PENNANT + + +CHAPTER I + +_Panthers or Bears?_ + +The defeat in the opening game of the final series of the season +between the Panthers and Bears had been a hard blow to the championship +hopes of the Bears, and its effect was evident in the demeanor of the +players and those associated with them. It was the second week in +September. Since early in May the Blues, the Panthers and the Bears, +conceded to be the three strongest teams in the league, had struggled +day by day almost upon even terms, first one team leading by a narrow +margin, then another, until the interest of the country was centered +upon the battle for supremacy. + +Then, with the Blues holding the lead by the narrowest of margins, +Maloney, their premier pitcher, strained his arm, and the Blues, in +despair, battled the harder only to overtax the strength of the +remaining pitchers, so that the team dropped rapidly into third place, +still hoping against hope to get their crippled pitching staff back +into condition for the finish. + +It seemed that the four-game series between the Bears and Panthers +probably would prove the crisis of the year's efforts, and decide the +question of supremacy. On the eve of the commencement of that series +the Bear hopes had received a shock. Carson, the heaviest batter, the +speediest base runner and one of the most brilliant outfielders in the +league, had fractured a leg in sliding to a base, and was crippled so +seriously that all hope of his recovery in time to play again that year +was abandoned. + +Until the day the news that Carson could not play again during the +season became public, the Bears had been favorites, but with their +hardest batter crippled, and Holleran, the substitute, known to be weak +against curve pitching, their hope seemed destroyed. Manager William +Clancy, of the Bears, his kindly, weather-beaten face wearing a +troubled expression, in place of his customary cheerful grin, was +investigating. The defeat of the Bears in the first game with the +Panthers had revealed to all the vital weakness of the holders of the +championship, and Clancy, as he sat nibbling the end of his penholder +in the writing room of the hotel, faced a discouraging situation. + +Across the table from him a slender girl, attired in a close-fitting +street gown, was writing rapidly, covering many sheets of hotel +stationery with tall, angular hieroglyphics as she detailed to her +dearest friend at home the exciting events of the day. + +"Betty," said Manager Clancy, looking up, "if you and Ellen are ever +going to get ready you'll have to start." + +"I'm ready now, Mr. Clancy," the girl responded brightly, lifting her +head until she revealed the perfect curve of her firm chin, and smiled, +"I left Mother Clancy in the rooms sewing on some buttons. She will be +ready soon." + +At that moment a slender youth, easy in movement, almost graceful in +his confident carriage, entered the hotel lobby. Something in his +bearing gave evidence that he was accustomed to association with +persons of refinement. His closely cropped, curling hair, sandy to the +point of redness, attracted attention to his well-formed head, set well +upon a pair of shoulders so wide as to give him the appearance of +strength, in spite of the slenderness of his waist and the lightness of +his body. His face was freckled and the uplift of his nose added to +the friendly impression created by his blue eyes. His clothes were +almost threadbare and his shoes were worn, but his linen was clean and +his appearance neat. The youth hesitated, glancing from group to group +of the players, as if trying to decide which one to approach. + +"Silent" Swanson, the giant shortstop, who had earned his nickname +because he was the noisiest player on the field, was standing talking +with "Noisy" Norton, the second baseman, so called because he seldom +spoke either on or off the field, and Adonis Williams, the star +left-handed pitcher of the team. The newcomer's eyes fell upon this +group, and his face lighted as he observed that Williams's hair was +only a shade darker than his own. As if deciding quickly, he walked +toward the group. + +"You are Williams, are you not?" he inquired easily, smiling in a +friendly manner. + +"That's my name, but most people add a mister to it," responded +Williams sneeringly. + +The red-headed youth flushed and the smile died out of his eyes. + +"I beg pardon, Mister Williams," he said, quietly; "I was seeking +Manager Clancy. Perhaps you can tell me where to find him?" + +"It isn't very hard to find Clancy," responded Williams. "We can't +lose him." + +"Perhaps you would be so kind as to point him out to me. I never have +had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Clancy." + +Neither of them had observed that Swanson and Norton had drawn aside to +permit the girl who had been in the writing room to pass on her way to +the elevator. Evidently she overheard the youth's inquiry, for she +hesitated just as Williams laughed in an ugly manner and said: + +"If you don't know him you'd better peddle yourself somewhere else. He +won't be in a mood to talk to hoboes to-night." + +Before the slender youth could speak, the girl stepped forward and said +quietly: + +"Pardon me, but I overheard you inquiring for Manager Clancy. He is in +the writing room." + +Her brown eyes flashed with anger, her lips were set tight and her +sun-browned cheeks flushed as she passed quickly on toward the +elevator, not waiting to respond to the thanks of the slender youth, +who had removed his hat quickly to utter his gratitude. Then, turning +toward Williams, who stood flushed and angry, his blue eyes narrowed +and he said: + +"Just for that, I'll kick you on the shins in the club house and dare +you to fight." + +"What? You will, huh?" spluttered the astounded pitcher. + +He would have said more, but before he could recover, the newcomer, +smiling oddly, turned and walked toward the writing room and held out +his hand to the famous Clancy, for six years leader of the Bears. + +The slender youth stood with extended hand while Manager Clancy gazed +up from his writing. + +"Mr. Clancy?" he asked, smiling. + +"Yes. Sit down," responded Clancy, his intention of rebuffing the +intruder changing as he saw the smile. "What can I do for you?" + +"I read in the evening papers," replied the youth, still smiling +easily, "that Carson broke a leg, and that, to win the pennant, you +must find an outfielder who can hit." + +"Perhaps you also read that I'd like to find a diamond about the size +of my head," responded Clancy, sarcastically. + +"The paper also said that you might switch Pardridge from third base to +the outfield if you could find a hard-hitting infielder." + +"Possibly the paper also said that if I found the diamond I'd move my +gold mine to make room for it." Clancy restrained himself from further +comment, feeling uncertain because of the quiet confidence of his +visitor. + +There was a pause, the veteran manager studying his caller and the +slender youth sat smiling as if expecting Clancy to resume the +conversation. + +"Well?" said Clancy, glancing at his half-finished letter as if to hint +that his time was entirely too valuable to be wasted discussing +academic impossibilities with entire strangers. + +"Well," replied the visitor, smiling, "I'm it." + +"You're what?" asked the astonished manager. + +"The third baseman who can hit." + +"When shall I move the gold mine?" Clancy's voice was dangerously +quiet. + +"To-morrow, if you like." + +Clancy sat gazing at his visitor as if undecided as to whether he +should explode in wrath, laugh at some joke too deep for him, or +believe the slender youth was in earnest. + +"Say, kid," he said slowly after studying the youth for a moment, "I +admire your nerve, anyhow. If you have half the confidence on a ball +field that you have off it, you'll be a wonder. Where did you ever +play ball?" + +A troubled expression came over the boy's face. + +"Mr. Clancy," he said, quietly, "if you take me you'll have to do it +without asking questions. I can play ball, and it's up to me to make +good at something. All I ask is a chance to prove to you I can play. +It will not cost you a cent to find out." + +"Done anything?" Clancy asked, sharply. + +"Criminal? No," responded the boy, flushing. + +"Ever signed a professional contract?" + +"No." + +Clancy studied him as if trying to decide what to do. Then, raising +his voice, he called: + +"Oh, Sec. Come here a minute." + +A tall man, his hair gray, his face wearing a frown of perpetual worry, +came from the hotel lobby. + +"Mr. Tabor," said Clancy, without rising, "this is Mr. Jimmie McCarthy, +who is to have a try-out with us at third base. Room him with the +players. You aren't stopping anywhere else, are you?" + +The last question was directed to the surprised youth. + +"No--I'm broke," answered the youth, flushing quickly. + +"I'll fix you up in a moment," said the secretary in friendly tones as +he shook hands with the youth. "Wait until I finish settling up with +the baggage man." + +The secretary hastened from the room, and the boy turned impulsively to +the manager. + +"Mr. Clancy," he said in a tone of gratitude, "I want to thank you--I +don't know how. I was broke--ball playing is about all I'm good at. +How did you know I didn't want to use my own name?" + +"I figured you might want to forget it for a time, anyhow," said +Clancy. "McCarthy is a good name and it fits your eyes." + +"I can't tell you how grateful I am," said the boy impetuously. "I'll +make good for you. I've failed trying to make a living. Baseball is +the only thing they taught me at college that I'm good at, and when I +read that you needed a third baseman I"---- + +"College man, eh?" asked Clancy quickly. "Well, I won't hold that +against you or tip it off. Don't thank me. If you make good I'll be +the one to give thanks." + +The youth turned to follow the secretary as if to hide a little mist +that came into his eyes, and he left Manager Clancy gazing thoughtfully +after him and nibbling the end of his penholder. + +"It would be a miracle," said Clancy to himself. "But I've got a hunch +it will come true. He's bred right--tell it from his looks. He's +game, light on his feet; good shoulders, and--and--and a pair of eyes." + + + + +CHAPTER II + +_A Miracle Called McCarthy_ + +Thirty thousand persons, banked in the great grandstands and massed +upon the field seats, roared with increasing excitement as from every +direction solid streams of humanity poured toward the park to witness +the second game of the series between the Bears and the Panthers. + +The batting practice of the teams had ended and the Bears trotted out +upon the field. + +"Who is that red-head practicing at third?" inquired "Chucky" Rice, the +veteran reporter of the Panthers. + +"Name is McCarthy, a busher Clancy picked up somewhere. He is to have +a trial this fall--after the pennant fight is over," said Koerner, of +the _Globe_, who traveled with the Bears. + +"Looks sweet on ground balls," commented Rice, watching the slender, +graceful athlete, who was occupying Pardridge's place at third base. +"Where did Clancy find him, Tech?" + +The question was addressed to "Technicalities" Feehan, the odd little +reporter who had traveled with the Bears for twenty years. + +"I have not been informed," responded Feehan, adjusting his glasses and +watching McCarthy closely. "He came to the hotel last night and asked +for a try-out. Did you see him hit?" + +"Yes," replied Rice. "Hits right-handed and he cracked two on the +nose. Will he play?" + +"Clancy hardly will take a chance with him at this stage," replied +Koerner. + +McCarthy tossed his glove to the veteran third baseman and ran toward +the plate to bat grounders to the infielders. He was not aware of the +fact, but Clancy had been watching him keenly during the entire +practice and had asked Kennedy, the star catcher, to keep an eye on the +recruit and report how he liked his actions. + +"Handles himself like a ball player," commented the catcher. "He hit a +curve ball {22} with a snap swing that had a lot of drive in it and he +gets the ball away like a flash when it hits his hands." + +"He takes things easily," said the manager. "I haven't seen him fight +a ball yet. Blocks it down and recovers in plenty of time. If this +game didn't mean so much"---- + +The game went against the Bears from the start, the break of the luck +seeming always to favor the Panthers. Twice, with runners perched on +second and third, Holleran had hit feeble grounders to the infield, one +resulting in a runner being caught at the home plate and one in an easy +out at first that finished an inning in which the Bears had threatened +to amass a half dozen runs. + +The seventh inning started with the Panthers leading 3 to 1, and the +Bears seemingly beaten beyond hope of recovery. An error, followed +quickly by a base on balls and a successful sacrifice bunt put Bear +runners on second and third bases with but one out and Holleran coming +to the bat. Clancy signaled him, and an instant later Umpire Maxwell +announced: + +"McCarthy batting for Holleran. McCarthy will play third base, +Pardridge in left field." + +McCarthy came to the batter's box quickly, swinging a long, light bat. +He let a fast ball cut across the plate just at his shoulders and only +glanced inquiringly at the umpire when it was called a strike. The +next one was a quick-breaking curve, seemingly coming straight at him. +He stepped slightly forward, snapped the long bat against the ball and +drove it down the left field foul line; two runners sprinted across the +plate, and the score was tied. + +"That auburn baby can hit them curves," commented Rice. "He certainly +called the turn and waded into that one." + +The game went into the ninth, then the tenth, the pitchers working +harder and harder and the teams batting behind them without a break to +bring the victory that meant so much to them. + +Jimmy McCarthy was the first batter for the Bears. From an unknown +recruit he had become the sensation of the game, and thousands were +asking who he was. Twice he had hit Cooke's fast "hook curve," and hit +it hard, and Cooke, remembering, shook his head as his catcher signaled +for another curve. The recruit watched him, and, with a sudden jerk of +his belt, he stepped into position. The first ball was fast and across +his shoulders, as Cooke had placed it twice before. This time instead +of taking the first strike McCarthy met the ball squarely and drove it +on the line over the first baseman's head. He turned first base, going +at top speed, although already McKeever, the Panther's right fielder, +known as one of the greatest throwers in the league, was in position to +field the ball. + +The roar that arose from the crowd was chopped short as McCarthy +sprinted for second base. An instant of tense uncertainty was followed +by a swelling murmur of protest, disappointment and rage. + +From the dust cloud just commencing to settle around second base two +forms were emerging, and, as the dust drifted away, the crowd had a +glimpse of a tableau. Tommy Meegher, second baseman of the Panthers, +was disentangling his stocky form from the knot of arms and legs, and +arising from the prostrate body of McCarthy, whose desperate slide had +turned a base hit into a two-bagger. Stooping over them, his hands +outspread, signifying that the runner had reached the base in safety, +was Randy Ransom, crouching, in order better to see under the dust +cloud raised by the hurtling bodies of the players. + +A salvo of grudging applause greeted McCarthy as he arose and brushed +the dust from his gray striped traveling uniform, an outburst that was +followed by a frenzied spasm of enthusiasm from the Bear followers. + +On the Bears' bench Manager Clancy grinned for the first time in three +days. + +"I believe that kid will do," he said to Kennedy. "He called the turn +on that fast ball, just met it, and turned first on his stride. He +slid under Meegher clean. Lay one down now," he added, addressing the +order to Norton. + +The skill of Noisy Norton as a sacrifice hitter was well known to the +spectators in the stands, but better known to the tense, anxious +infielders of the Panthers, who crouched, watching his every motion as +he came to the batter's position. Norton stepped into position, +shortened his hold upon the bat and glanced quickly around the infield +as if noting the position of each man. Suddenly he started, as if in +surprise, and glanced toward the Bears' bench. Manager Clancy nodded +his head affirmatively and again Norton crouched, shortening his grip +upon the bat still more, and slowly churned the inoffensive air with +it. The Panther infielders, alert to detect the plan of attack to be +tried by the Bears, had caught the rapid exchange of glances, and they +crept a step or two closer to the batter, poising ready to leap forward +to field any ball pushed toward them from Norton's bat. + +The plan of assault to be tried seemed clear to the thousands of +spectators. It appeared certain that a sacrifice bunt was to be +attempted; that the third baseman of the Panthers was to pretend to +field the ball, but that, instead, he would return to third base the +moment Norton bunted, permitting Cooke, the pitcher, to try to reach +the ball in time to throw to third to catch McCarthy there instead of +throwing to first to retire Norton. + +Cooke pitched fast and straight over the plate, intending to make +Norton push the ball back to him, or into the air for a fly out. +Norton, however, struck viciously, but without making an effort to hit +the ball, swinging his bat in order to handicap the catcher in his +effort to catch the ball and make a throw. McCarthy had started at +full speed the instant Cooke had commenced to wind up to pitch the +ball, and was in full flight toward third base. Before Nixon's throw, +delayed and hampered by Norton's tactics in striking, reached third, +McCarthy slid behind the base, his feet outstretched to hook the bag as +he threw his body outward to prevent Randall, the third baseman, from +exercising his deadly skill in blocking runners away from the base. + +A moment later Norton drove a long fly to the outfield, and McCarthy, +waiting until it was caught, sprinted across the plate with what proved +to be the winning run. + +"Crossed--and by a busher," lamented Kincaid, of the Panthers, as the +teams started off the field after the finish of the game, walking +slowly because of the press of humanity overflowing from the stands. + +"What do you think of that kid, Slats?" inquired Manager Clancy, as +they walked together toward the club house. + +"He's a ball player, if he don't swell," responded Hartman, +laconically. "He pulled that steal of third wise. He figured we +wouldn't expect a busher to try to steal at that stage--and we didn't. +He's a wise head for a kid." + +"Looks good to me," replied Clancy. "He slipped Norton a signal not to +hit, but to let him steal--and I almost fell off the bench when I saw +it. I expected him to toss the game away." + +"Where'd you get him?" demanded Hartman. + +"He wished himself onto me," grinned Clancy. "He told me he could play +ball and I believed him." + +A swarm of reporters descended upon the headquarters of the visiting +team, striving to discover something of the history of the slender, +red-haired youngster whose coming had revived the waning pennant hopes +of the Bears. McCarthy was not to be found. He had slipped away after +dinner without telling anyone his plans. The reporters descended upon +Manager Clancy, demanding information concerning his find. + +"It's a secret, boys," responded Clancy to their insistent questions. +"He is nom de plume and habeas corpus. The only place I ever heard of +him playing ball was in Cognito." + +"Suppress the comedy and ease us the legit," pleaded Riley, who wrote +theatricals when he was not inventing English in the interest of +baseball. "I can't find any record that will fit him." + +"Boys," said the veteran manager, growing serious, "I don't know a +thing more about him than you do. I don't know where he ever played; +it never was in organized ball, or I would know where he comes from and +who he is. He strolled in here last night, told me he could play ball +and wanted a chance to show me that he could." + +"That was considerable demonstration to-day," commented Rice. "How do +you know he's square?" + +"By looking at him," replied Clancy steadily. "If I needed any more +evidence, he was offered $500 to sign a Panther contract after to-day's +game and told them he'd stick to me--and we haven't even talked about +salary." + +"What'll we call him?" asked one reporter. + +"Say," replied Clancy, enthusiastically, "I dreamed last night that I +had found a pot of gold wrapped up in a million-dollar bill, with a +diamond as big as my hand on top of it. Call him Kohinoor." + +So Kohinoor McCarthy sprang into fame in a day as the mystery of the +league. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +_Hope for the Bears_ + +The Bears were joyous again. They scuffled, joked, laughed and romped +joyously as the team gathered in the railway station to make a hurried +departure for the city of the Pilgrims on the evening after the final +game of the series with the Panthers. Three victories out of four +games played with the Panthers instead of the dreaded three defeats had +lifted the Bears back practically to even terms with their rivals. All +they had hoped for after the injury of Carson was to divide the series +with the Panthers, and it was due to the sudden appearance of Kohinoor +McCarthy that the victories were made possible. + +All the notoriety that suddenly was thrust upon McCarthy had failed to +affect him, although Manager Clancy watched his "find" anxiously, and +pleaded with the newspaper men not to spoil him. No trace of the +dreaded affliction known as "swelled head" had revealed itself, and +because McCarthy was able to laugh over the wild stories printed +concerning him, Clancy breathed more easily. + +During the celebration McCarthy, who had made it possible, stood apart +from the others, feeling a little lonely. McCarthy stood watching +them, smiling at their antics with a feeling that he was an intruder. +The truth was that the Bears had welcomed him from the start. He had +won their admiration on the field and the undying friendship of Silent +Swanson by his conduct in the club house on the afternoon after the +close of his first game. It was that incident that made for him a chum +and an enemy, who were destined to play a big part in his career. + +When the players raced off the field after that victory, striving to +escape being engulfed in the torrent of humanity that poured from the +stands, McCarthy was caught, with a few others, and delayed. When he +reached the club house the substitutes and the reserve pitchers already +were splashing and spluttering under the showers. McCarthy walked to +where Adonis Williams, already stripped to the waist, was preparing to +take his shower, and without a word he kicked the pitcher on the shins, +a mere rap, but administered so as to leave no doubt as to its purpose. + +"Here----. What did you do that for?" demanded Williams. + +"I told you in the hotel, when you insulted me, that I'd do it. Will +you fight?" + +McCarthy's blue eyes had grown narrower, and a colder blue tint came +into them. + +"I'll break you in pieces, you ---- ---- ---- you," Williams spluttered +with rage. + +"Drop that talk and fight," challenged McCarthy, stepping into a +fighting attitude. + +Just then McCarthy received help from an unexpected source. Swanson, +the giant of the team, broke through the circle of players that had +formed in expectation of seeing a fight. + +"You're all right, Bo," he roared, throwing his huge arm around the +shoulders of the recruit. "You're perfectly all right, but he won't +fight you." + +"I'll smash"---- + +"Naw, you won't, Adonis," said the giant, contemptuously. "I think he +can lick you, anyhow, but you had it coming. Now kick his other shin, +and after that Adonis will apologize." + +The suggestion raised a laugh, and eased the situation. The battle +light in McCarthy's face changed to a smile. + +"I'll forego the kick," he said. "I had to make good after what I told +you in the hotel. I'm perfectly willing to let it drop and be friends." + +He extended his hand frankly, but Williams, still scowling, did not +take it. + +"Never mind the being friends part of it," he said. "But if you don't +want trouble, just lay away from me after this." + +"Here, young fellow," said Clancy, who had arrived at the club house in +time to see the finish of the altercation; "I'll do all the fighting +for this club. Understand?" + +"Yes," replied McCarthy, slowly, without attempting to explain. + +"What do you think of my gamecock, Bill?" asked Swanson, +enthusiastically. "Adonis insulted him in the hotel last night and the +kid promised to kick him on the shins. He was just making good. He +offered to shake hands and call it all off, but Adonis wouldn't do it. +He's my roommate from now on. I'll have to take him to keep him from +fighting every one." + +The giant's remark caused another laugh, as his record for fights +during his earlier career as a ball player had given him a reputation +which obviated all necessity of fighting. + +The majority of the Bears had accepted McCarthy as one of their own +kind after that, and Swanson adopted him. With Swanson he seemed at +home, but the others found him a trifle shy and retiring. He was +friendly with all excepting Williams and Pardridge, who resented his +occupation of third base while pretending to be pleased. Yet with the +exception of Swanson and Kennedy he made no close friends. The +admiration of the rough, big-hearted Swede shortstop for the recruit +approached adoration and he was loud and insistent in voicing his +praises of McCarthy. + +The train which was bearing the Bears away from the city of the +Panthers drew slowly out of the great station, plunged through a series +of tunnel-like arches under the streets, and rattled out into the +suburbs, gathering speed for the long night run. Inside the cars the +players were settling themselves for an evening of recreation. Card +games were starting, the chess players were resuming their +six-month-long contest, and McCarthy sought his berth and sat alone, +striving to read. In the berth just ahead of his seat the quartette +commenced to sing. + +The Bears possessed a quartette with some musical merit and musical +knowledge. Kennedy, the quiet, big catcher, had a good baritone voice +and it showed training. Norton, who seldom spoke, but always was ready +to sing, led, and Swanson was the bass, his voice deep and organ-like, +making up in power and richness much that it lost in lack of training. +Madden, the tenor, was weak and uncertain yet, as Swanson remarked, "He +can't sing much, but he is a glutton for punishment." + +When the quartette started to sing, McCarthy dropped his book and sat +gazing out into the gathering twilight, listening to the strong, +healthy voices. Lights commenced to flash out from the farm houses and +the haze settled in waving curtains over the ponds and the lowlands. +He was lonely, homesick at thought of other voices and other scenes and +the joyousness of his new comrades seemed to depress rather than to +lift his spirits. + +Berths were being prepared for the night. Already in several the weary +and the lame were reclining, reading. Others, worn by the strain of +the day's game, were getting ready to draw their curtains. The trainer +and his assistant were passing quietly from berth to berth, working +upon aching arms and bruised muscles, striving to keep their valuable +live stock in condition to continue the struggle. + +The quartette sang on and on, regardless of the lack of an audience, +for no one in the car appeared to be listening. They sang tawdry +"popular" songs for the most part, breaking into a ribald ragtime +ditty, followed by a sickly sentimental ballad. + +Kennedy's voice, without warning, rose strong and clear almost before +the final chord of the song over which the quartette had been in +travail had died away. Kennedy had a habit, when he wearied of the +songs they sang, of singing alone some song the others did not know; +some quaint old ballad, or oftener a song of higher class. For a +moment the others strove vainly to follow. Then silence fell over them +as Kennedy's voice rose, clearer and stronger, as he sang the old words +of Eileen Aroon. + +"Dear were her charms to me." + +His voice was pregnant with feeling. + +"Dearer her laughter--free." + +Kennedy was singing as if to himself, but as he sang a voice, strong +and fresh, like a clear bell striking into the music of chimes, joined +his and sang with him the words: + +"Dearer her constancy." + +The card players suddenly lost interest in their game, dropped their +hands and turned to see who was singing. Players who had been reading +and those who had been vainly striving to sleep poked their heads +between curtains of the berths, the better to listen. + +On and on through the haunting, half-pathetic minors of the old song +the clear, sweet tenor and the strong, well-modulated voice of Kennedy +carried the listeners. McCarthy, leaning toward the window and gazing +out upon the moonlight as if under its spell, sang on in ignorance of +the interest his voice had aroused in the car. + +The song ended. For a moment the silence in the car was so complete +that the clicking of the wheels upon the fish plates sounded sharply. +Then Swanson, with a yell, broke the spell. Hurdling the back of the +berth he descended upon the startled McCarthy, who seemed dazed and +bewildered by the outburst and the pattering applause that it started. + +"Yeh, Bo," yelled Swanson, giving his diamond war cry. "Yeh, Bo, +you're a bear. Hey, you folks, throw Maddy out of the window and make +room for this red-headed Caruso. Why didn't you tell me you could +sing? The quartette is filled at last!" + +Flushed and laughing in his embarrassment, McCarthy was borne up the +aisle and deposited in the place of honor in the quartette. + +Suddenly the scuffling and boisterous laughter ceased, and the players +drew aside, apologetically, to make room for an eager, bright-eyed +girl, whose face was flushed with pleasure, but who advanced toward +McCarthy without a trace of embarrassment. McCarthy, glancing at her, +recognized the girl who had directed him to Manager Clancy on the +evening of his first appearance in the Bear camp. + +"I was coming to say good-night to father," she said quickly, "and I +heard you sing. I want to thank you." + +She extended her hand and smiled. McCarthy stared at her in a +bewilderment. Some memory of long ago stirred within him. He recalled +in a flash where he had seen the face before; the face that had come +into his boyhood at one of its unhappiest hours. He had dreamed of the +face, and the memory of the kind brown eyes, filled with sympathetic +tenderness, never had left him. She was the same girl. He realized +suddenly that he was staring rudely and strove to stammer some reply to +her impulsive thanks. + +"Oh, I say," he protested. "It was nothing--I wasn't thinking"---- + +"You sang it beautifully," she interrupted. + +"The song is one of my favorites. I did not know Mr. Kennedy knew it." + +"Used to sing it at home," said Kennedy, as if indifferent. + +"Thank you," McCarthy stammered, partly recovering his poise. "It is +good of you to like it. I seldom sing at all. The song made me forget +where I was." + +"You must sing for us," she said simply. "The boys will make you. I +am certain that after you feel more at home among us you will give us +that pleasure. Good-night--and thank you again." + +The girl smiled and McCarthy, stuttering in his effort to reply, +managed to mutter good-night as she passed into the next car. + +"It's a pink Kohinoor now," said the relentless Swanson, as he observed +the flushed face of the recruit. "All fussed up, isn't he?" + +"Oh, cut it out," retorted McCarthy, striving to cover his +embarrassment by ball field conversational methods. "A fellow might be +expected to be a little bit embarrassed with a lot of big stiffs like +you standing around and never offering to introduce a fellow." + +"I forgot it, Kohinoor," said Kennedy quickly. "I forgot you never had +met her. She is Betty Tabor, Sec's daughter, and one of the best +little women in the world. Even Silent is a gentleman when she is with +the team." + +"I'm always a gent, Bo," declared Swanson indignantly. "I took a night +school course in etiquette once. Any one that ain't a gent when she is +around I'll teach to be a gent--and this is the perfessor." + +He exhibited a huge, red fist and smote the cushions of the berth with +a convincing thud. + +"I'll introduce you properly to-morrow," volunteered Kennedy. "Come on +and get into the quartette. We'll try you out." + +McCarthy surrendered more to conceal his agitation than because he felt +like singing. + +The quartette sang until the bridge players grew weary of the game and +the tired athletes who preferred sleep to the melody howled +imprecations upon the vocalists. + +For a long time after McCarthy climbed into his berth he remained +staring into the darkness, striving to recall the outlines of a face +set with a pair of friendly brown eyes that lighted with a look of +eager appreciation. He remembered the little dimples at the corners of +the mouth, and the wealth of soft, brown hair that framed the oval of +her face. He blushed hotly in the darkness at the thought of his own +rather threadbare raiment, and he decided that he would evade an +introduction until he could secure money from Manager Clancy and +recover the clothes he had left in an express office. + +He found himself striving to compare her face with that of another. + +"She is not as pretty as Helen is," he told himself. "But it's +different somehow. Helen never seemed to feel anything or to +understand a fellow, and I'm sure Betty--Betty? I wonder if that is +her real name--I'll sing for her as often as she will listen." + +And, after a long reviewing of the past that was proving such a mystery +and which the baseball reporters were striving in vain to explore, +McCarthy muttered: "I've made a fool of myself," and turned over and +slept. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +_"Kohinoor" Meets Betty_ + +The train was speeding along through the upper reaches of a beautiful +valley when McCarthy awoke. As he splashed and scraped his face in the +washroom he found himself torn between desire to hasten the +introduction which Kennedy had promised and to avoid meeting the girl. +He glanced down at his worn garments, wondering whether or not the girl +had observed them. He went forward to the dining car with sudden +determination to avoid the introduction. The dining car was crowded, +and the table at which Swanson was eating was filled. McCarthy +stopped, looked around for a vacant seat. There seemed to be only +one--and at that table Miss Betty Tabor was breakfasting with Manager +Clancy and his wife. + +"Good morning," said the girl, smiling brightly. "There is a seat +here. My father had to hurry away. Mr. Clancy will introduce us." + +Clancy suspended his operations with his ham and eggs long enough to +say: + +"Miss Taber, Mr. McCarthy. Kohinoor, this is the old lady." + +"I heard Mr. McCarthy sing last night," said the girl, acknowledging +the informal presentation. "He sings well." + +"So I should guess," remarked Clancy dryly. "Swanson has been +bellowing his praise of it until everyone on the train thinks we have +grabbed a grand opera star who can hit 400." + +McCarthy found himself talking with Miss Taber and Mrs. Clancy and +laughing at the quaint half brogue of the manager's buxom wife as if +they had known each other all their lives. Clancy himself had little +to say. The conversation had drifted to discussion of the country +through which the train was running and McCarthy suddenly ceased +talking. + +"I always have loved this part of the valley," said Miss Taber. "When +I was a little girl father brought me on a trip and I remember then +picking out a spot on the hills across the river where, some day, I +wanted to live. I never pass it without feeling the old desire. Have +you been through this country before?" + +The question was entirely natural, but McCarthy reddened as he admitted +it was his first trip. + +"And what part of the world do you come from?" asked Mrs. Clancy. + +"I'm from the West," he responded. "Probably that is why I admire this +green country so much." + +"What is your home town?" persisted Mrs. Clancy. + +Miss Taber, scenting an embarrassing situation, strove to change the +subject, but Mrs. Clancy refused to be put off. + +"Why is it you are ashamed of your home and play under another name, +boy?" she demanded. + +"Why do you think my name isn't McCarthy?" he parried. + +"The McCarthys aren't a red-headed race," she said, her brogue +broadening. "Ye have Irish in ye, but ye're not Irish. Is baseball +such a disgraceful business ye are ashamed to use your name?" + +"Of course not, Mrs. Clancy," he responded indignantly. "It is a good +enough business--but--but--Oh, I can't explain." + +"This mystery business is a big drawing card," remarked Manager Clancy, +endeavoring to ease the situation. "They flock to see him because each +one can make up his own story. Let him alone, mother. Don't spoil the +gate receipts." + +"Let him alone, is it?" she asked, turning upon her husband. "'Tis for +his own sake I'm speaking. They'll be saying you've done something bad +and wicked and are afraid to use your own name." + +"What isn't true cannot hurt anyone," he replied quickly. "I have not +committed any crimes." + +"Mother is a good deal right about it," remarked Clancy quietly. "A +baseball player is a public person. The fans are likely to say +anything about a player, and the less they know the more they will +invent." + +"I believe Mother Clancy is right," said Miss Taber, seeing that her +effort to turn the conversation had failed. + +"But there really isn't anything to tell--anything any one would be +interested in. It's a private matter," protested McCarthy. + +"Listen, boy," said the manager's wife. "I've been with the boys these +many years. They are all my boys, even the bad ones, and I don't want +any of them talked about." + +"There is nothing to talk about," he contended, irritated by the +persistency of the manager's wife. + +"They're already saying things," she responded, leaning forward. +"They're a saying that you've done something crooked--that you've +thrown ball games----" + +"Oh," ejaculated Miss Taber. "They wouldn't dare!" + +"I'd like to have someone say that to me," McCarthy said, flushing with +anger. + +"Hold on, mother," interrupted Clancy. "I'm managing this team----Let +up on him. Where do you hear that kind of talk?" + +"I heard it in the stands," she argued earnestly. "They were saying +you knew all about it. If you deny it they'll tell another story and +if you keep quiet they'll think its a confession. Tell them what you +are and where you came from, boy." + +Her voice was pleading and her interest in his welfare was too real not +to affect him. + +"I'm sorry, Mother Clancy," he said gratefully, unconsciously adopting +the term he had heard Betty Tabor use. "There is nothing I can tell +them--or anyone--now." + +"It's sorry I am, Jimmy," she responded sadly. "If it's anything ye +can tell me come to me." + +"I see I have another adopted son," remarked Clancy teasingly as he +winked at Miss Tabor. "Ellen mothers them all, as soon as she learns +their first names--even the Swede." + +"'Tis proud I'd be to have a son like Sven," she said, defendingly. + +The breakfast ended rather quietly and McCarthy returned to his seat in +the players' car dispirited. In his heart he knew that Mrs. Clancy had +spoken the truth. He knew, too, that Betty Tabor held the same opinion +and, somehow, her opinion of him counted more than that of all the +others. + +"If I only could explain," he kept thinking. "They have no right to +ask," he argued with himself. "Why do they suspect a man just because +he refuses to tell them all his private affairs?" + +McCarthy was settling himself to resume reading when Adonis Williams +came down the aisle and sat down in the other half of the seat. +Williams looked at him patronizingly for an instant, and in a rather +sneering tone said: + +"Just a friendly little tip, young fellow. Keep off my preserves and +you'll get along better with this club." + +"I don't quite understand you," replied McCarthy, his eyes narrowing +with the anger aroused by the air of superiority assumed by the pitcher. + +"I was watching you during breakfast," said Williams. "Don't get it +into your head that because you happened to play a couple of good games +of ball you can run this club and do as you please." + +"Hold on a minute," retorted McCarthy, flushing with anger. "If you +have any grievance against me say so. Don't beat around the bush. I +don't know what you are talking about." + +"I wanted to tip you off to keep away from the young woman you ate +breakfast with." + +McCarthy's eyes flashed angrily, and he started to rise, but controlled +himself with an effort. + +"Only muckers discuss such things," he said, coldly. + +"Well, we're going to discuss it," retorted Williams, who rapidly was +working himself into a rage. "That young lady is going to be my wife, +and I don't care to have her associating with every hobo ball player +that joins the team." + +McCarthy clenched his fists and started to his feet, but gritted his +teeth and kept control of his temper. "You're to be congratulated--if +it is true," he said slowly, his tone an insult. "Men cannot fight +over a woman and not have her name dragged into it. Drop that part of +it and to-night I'll insult you and give you a chance to fight." + +"Any time you please," replied Williams, rather taken aback. "I think +you're yellow and won't dare fight." + +He swaggered down the aisle, leaving McCarthy angry, helpless and +raging. He was boiling with inward anger when Swanson slid down into +the seat with him as the train entered the suburbs of the Pilgrim City. + +"Smatter, Bo?" asked Swanson, quickly observing that something was +wrong. "I saw Williams talking with you. Has he been trying to bluff +you? Don't mind him. He has been as sore as a Charley horse ever +since you joined the team, and he won't overlook a chance to start +trouble." + +"He has started it all right," replied McCarthy, savagely. "We're +going to fight to-night and I'll"---- + +"Steady, Bo, steady," warned Swanson, dropping his voice. "That's his +game, is it? He won't fight any one. He heard Clancy warn you not to +fight and he is trying to get you in bad. I know his way." + +"I told him I'd fight," responded McCarthy, worriedly. "Now I'll have +to. I don't know anything I'd enjoy better." + +"I'd like to second you and make you do it," responded the giant. "But +it would be playing into his hands if you punched him. Leave him to +me. I'll fix his clock." + +Swanson's methods were all his own. The repairing of Williams's +timepiece took place in the big auto 'bus that carried the players from +the train to their hotel. Swanson, wise with long experience in such +matters, secured a seat across the 'bus from Williams, and when the +vehicle rolled onto smoother streets he addressed the pitcher. + +"Hey, Adonis," he said in tones Manager Clancy could not fail to hear, +"trying to take out your grouch on Kohinoor, eh? You lay off him or +count me in on anything that comes off." + +"That sneak been tattling and crying for help, eh?" sneered Williams. +"I wasn't going to hurt him." + +"You're right, you're not," retorted Swanson. "He didn't tell me. I +saw you trying to start something with him, and I've seen you do it to +too many other kids not to know what you were up to." + +"Who's talking fight?" demanded Clancy sharply, turning to scan the +players until his eyes rested upon Williams's flushed and angry face. + +"Nobody is going to fight," said Swanson easily. "Adonis has been +trying to bully Kohinoor and stir him up. I guess he thought he could +put over his bluff because you told Kohinoor not to fight." + +"Adonis, you cut that stuff out or I'll take a hand in it myself," said +Clancy, whose ability and willingness to fight had earned him a +reputation during his playing days. "You've had a grouch for a week or +more. As for you, Kohinoor, don't think you can fight your way through +this league. The first thing you have to do is to learn to stand +punishment and keep your temper." + +"No fresh prison pup can swell up and try to cut into my affairs," +muttered Williams, sullen under the rebuke. + +McCarthy sprang up to avenge the fresh insult, but before he could act +or speak he was forestalled. + +"Oh," said Clancy sharply. "So you're the fellow who has been making +that kind of talk? I've been trying to find out where it came from. +One more bit of that kind of conversation will cost you a bunch of +salary." + +"I've heard it everywhere," muttered Williams, taken aback by the +sudden defense of the recruit by the manager. + +"Well, don't hear any more of it," snapped Clancy, and McCarthy, +feeling he had emerged with the honors, discretely maintained silence. + +"What started Adonis after you this morning?" asked Swanson, as he +hurled garments around the room and wrought disaster to the order of +his trunk as he hunted pajamas. + +"Guess he was just trying to start something," responded McCarthy, +still reading. + +"Girl?" inquired Swanson. + +"What makes you think that?" + +"He was mad when he saw you at breakfast with Betty. He's jealous of +everyone who talks to her." + +"She's a dandy girl," said McCarthy, generously. "I don't much blame a +fellow for being jealous when he is engaged to a girl like that." + +"Engaged to Betty Tabor? That stiff?" ejaculated Swanson. "Say, did +he spring a line of talk like that on you? Why, he has been crazy +about her for three years, but she knows what he is, and she won't talk +to him any more than to be polite." + +"I thought it was odd," commented McCarthy, his heart becoming +strangely lighter. + +"Don't make any mistake, though," added Swanson earnestly, as he turned +out the lights. "You've stirred up a bad enemy. He won't fight you +openly; but keep an eye on him." + +Swanson's warning fell upon deaf ears. McCarthy's attack of blues was +cured, and he fell asleep to the music of street car wheels that seemed +to say: "She isn't engaged, she isn't engaged," as they rolled past the +hotel. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +_The Tempter_ + +The Bears were coming into their hotel after the first game of the +series with the Pilgrims. The throng in the lobby pressed forward, +forming a lane through which they were compelled to run the gauntlet of +curious and admiring eyes. Easy Ed Edwards was smiling sardonically as +he noted the little display of hero-worship, and he watched the +procession of battle-stained athletes until Adonis Williams entered. +The handsome, arrogant pitcher was laughing as he strutted for the +benefit of the onlookers, but, as his eyes met the cold, steady gaze of +the gambler, his laugh gave way to a look of alarm. Edwards nodded +coldly and motioned with his head for the player to come to him. +Williams crossed the lobby to the cigar stand and held out his hand. +Edwards did not seem to observe the extended hand, but turned coldly to +the case and said: + +"Have a cigar?" + +"Thanks," said Williams, nervously. "What brings you out here, Ed?" + +"Business," replied the gambler chillingly. "Business concerning +you--and others. Come to my room to-night." + +"Can't--I was going out. Had an engagement," Williams faltered, as he +dropped his eyes to avoid meeting those of Edwards. + +"I want you in my room to-night," said Edwards coldly, ignoring the +refusal. + +"You seem to think you have a mortgage on my life," said Williams, +angered by the tone and manner of the gambler. + +"Well--on your baseball life, I have," responded the gambler without +changing a muscle of his face. + +The pitcher started to flare into anger, then paled and his eyes +dropped under the gambler's steady gaze. + +"Well," he said, uncertainly, "I've got to dress, I'll see you later." + +"Better drop in early. You'll probably pitch to-morrow and you must +keep in condition." Edwards' tone was ironic as he added for the +benefit of the clerk who was handing him his change: "The race is +getting warm and you can't be too careful of your condition." + +What happened in the gambler's room that evening was never known to any +save the two who were present, but shortly after 11 o'clock Williams +came downstairs white and shaking with passion, and went in to the bar. +He emerged nearly an hour later, flushed and unsteady, just in time to +encounter Manager Clancy, his wife, Miss Taber and McCarthy, chatting +and laughing as the men bade the women good-night at the elevators. +Clancy, catching sight of him, remarked: + +"Hello, Adonis. Better hit the hay. You work to-morrow." + +Williams turned away and said: "All right." But when the manager and +McCarthy entered the elevator Williams returned to the barroom, and +when, at 1 o'clock, the bar closed, he went unsteadily to his room, +after informing the bartender that he was the best pitcher in the world. + +The Bears faced the Pilgrims for the third game of the series before a +huge Saturday crowd, attracted by the announcement that Puckett, the +star pitcher of the Pilgrims would pitch against Adonis Williams. The +teams battled brilliantly for three innings, although Williams was wild +and unsteady. Twice sharp work by the infielders prevented the +Pilgrims from scoring, and when the fourth inning commenced the crowd +was cheering the Pilgrims wildly and encouraging them to drag down the +Bears from their proud position at the head of the-league. Manager +Clancy, crouching forward near the players' bench, was watching +Williams closely, and every few moments his worried frown and quick +gesture showed that he was not pleased with the manner in which his +best left-hander was working. Between innings the manager talked in +low tones with Kennedy, who was catching, seeking to discover why +Williams seemed wild and what was the matter with his curve ball. + +"Get out there and warm up a bit, Will," said Clancy to Wilcox, his +reliable veteran. "They're likely to get after Adonis any minute." + +To those in the stands it seemed as if Williams was pitching just as +well as was his rival, but both teams knew that he was not in his best +form, and that it was luck and fast fielding, rather than good +pitching, that was saving him from being batted hard. The Pilgrims +attacked him in each inning with confidence born of the certainty that +sooner or later their hard drives would begin to fall in safe ground, +while the Bears played the harder to prevent the start of a rally. + +The break came in the sixth inning. A base on balls to the first +batter gave the Pilgrims the opening for which they had been waiting +and they rushed to the assault like soldiers upon a breached wall. +Douglass, the next batter, hit a line single to right so hard that the +runner going from first was compelled to stop at second. Instead of +delaying and steadying himself while planning a system of defense, +Williams commenced pitching as rapidly as he could get the ball away +from his hand. Almost before the batter was in position he pitched a +fast ball straight over the plate and the batter bunted down toward +shortstop. McCarthy was racing upon the ball, ready to scoop it in +perfect position for a throw. Williams attempted to field the ball +which either McCarthy or Swanson could have handled. Williams touched +the ball with his groping fingers just before McCarthy, stooping and +going at full speed, scooped it and tried to snap it to second base. +The ball left his hand just as he crashed with terrific force into +Williams. Both men reeled and went down, stunned and dazed. The ball +flew wild and rolled on into right field. One Pilgrim progressed to +the plate. Douglass, who had been on first, dived safely to third, +while only Swanson's fast recovery drove the batter back to first. + +Williams arose, hurt and furious, and while McCarthy was striving to +struggle to his feet the pitcher aimed a vicious blow at his head. +Swanson's arm was interposed just in time to stop the blow, and before +Williams could strike again players of both teams and the umpires +rushed in and prevented further hostilities. The shaken and bruised +players recovered and resumed play in a short time, and another safe +hit and an out sent two more of the Pilgrims scurrying across the +plate. Against the three run lead caused by the mix-up between the +pitcher and third baseman the Bears fought desperately. Puckett was +pitching one of his cleverest, most studious games and, although the +Bears strove again and again to start a counter rally, he held them +helpless and the Pilgrims won the game 3 to 1. + +A sore and disappointed team crowded into the big auto 'bus after the +game. They were depressed and silent, for the Panthers had won and the +teams again practically were tied for the lead of the championship +race. This knowledge that they had thrown away a game to a second +division team which they expected to beat four times was bad enough, +but that the Pilgrims should have won from Williams for the first time +in two seasons made the dose more bitter. No word of blame for any one +was uttered. But McCarthy, bruised and nursing a cut on his forehead, +grieved and refused to be comforted. + +"That was a great play you tried to make, Kohinoor," remarked Manager +Clancy just before the 'bus reached the hotel. "I like to see a player +try to get the runners nearest home. If you had forced that fellow at +second, as you tried to do when Adonis cut into the play, the next hit +never would have got through the infield, and the chances are we'd have +had a double play and won the game." + +These were the first words of praise Manager Clancy ever had said to +him, and he felt better. + +The players had been invited to attend a performance at a theater that +evening. After dinner they were grouped around the lobby of the hotel, +when Edwards strolled through, going toward the desk. Manager Clancy +glanced at him in surprise and a worried look came over his face. + +"I wonder what that crook is doing out here?" he remarked to a group of +players. "You fellows keep away from him. It's worth a player's +reputation for honesty to be seen with him." + +As Edwards turned from the desk he glanced quickly at Williams, caught +his eye and beckoned slightly with his head. Williams suddenly pleaded +that he was too weary to attend the performance and remained in the +hotel, declaring his intention of retiring early. As soon as Manager +Clancy, escorting the women of the party, left the hotel, Williams +ascended to Edwards' room. + +"See here, Ed," he said, "you're putting me in a dickens of a hole. +Clancy is sore on you. He said he would fine any player who talked to +you. I was afraid he'd see you tip me to come up. If he gets on I'll +lose a bunch of salary. I had to sneak to come up here." + +"I wanted to talk to you," replied the gambler. "I told you last night +that the Panthers must win this pennant. I stand to lose close to +$80,000 if they don't. Of course they may beat you, but I want to make +it a sure thing and clean up on it." + +"You ought to be feeling better about it to-day," said the pitcher, in +an aggrieved tone. "We lost to a dub club with me pitching. What more +do you want?" + +"It wasn't your fault that you lost," retorted the gambler coldly. +"You tried hard to win it and you might have won if you had kept away +from that bunted ball." + +"I'd have thrown him out at first easily if that four-flush third +baseman hadn't bumped me," snapped Williams, his pride hurt. + +"Sure you would," sneered the gambler. "You'd have thrown me out of +about $160,000 just to have a better average. You had a chance to lose +that game without any trouble and you're sore because you did lose it." + +"Why shouldn't I be?" demanded Williams. "If we win my part of the +world's series money will be close to $4,000--enough to settle what I +owe you and pay my bills." + +"Now look here, Williams," said the gambler, laying aside his cigar and +leaning forward across the table. "You stand to win just enough to pay +your debts and you'll be broke all winter, without a sou to show for a +year's work. If the Bears lose I'll cancel all you owe me and make you +a present of as much as the winning players get out of the world's +series. You get me?" + +"Why, you d--d crook." Williams leaped from his seat threateningly. +"You want me to throw the championship?" + +"Sit down, you fool," snarled the gambler, viciously. "Do you want me +to let Clancy know who tipped it off that Carson's leg was broken? Do +you want me to tell him you got $500 for tipping it to that Panther +bunch of gamblers?" + +"Now listen to sense," continued Edwards, more quickly, "you saw to-day +how easily you can lose a game and blame the other fellow. You can use +your head and get rich instead of being in debt. If you don't like +McCarthy, all you have to do is to make him lose games for you. The +papers will yell, 'Hard luck,' you'll get money and I'll clean up a +fortune." + +"You can't make a crook of me," whined Williams. "Wanting me to throw +down a bunch of good fellows"---- + +"Oh, shut up. You make me sick," sneered the gambler. "All you have +to do is to make a sure thing out of a doubtful one. You'll be +protecting yourself and getting even with a fellow you hate." + +"I won't do it." Williams was at bay and defiant. + +"All right," said Edwards sharply, "then to-morrow Clancy will get some +news that will start something." + +"Aw, say, Ed, you wouldn't cross a fellow like that?" whined Williams. + +"Wouldn't I? Perhaps you think I'll let go of all that money and not +fight? I'm starting home to-morrow. I won't see you any more. I am +depending on you to deliver--or I'll protect myself." + +"I won't do it." Williams was desperately defiant. + +"Yes you will--when you think it over," Edwards replied easily. "Let's +have a drink." He rang the bell and smoked in silence while Williams +sat sullenly defiant. + +"I tell you I wouldn't do it for all the money in the game," declared +the pitcher. + +"Here comes the boy," said the gambler. "I'll watch the score of the +next game you pitch to see what you do." + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +_Adonis Makes a Deal_ + +The after theater crowd was trooping into the lobby of the hotel in +laughing, chattering groups and drifting steadily toward the cafe, in +which already gay parties were gathered at the tables. Manager Clancy +and his wife, with Secretary Taber and his daughter, came together and +they stood undecided, the men urging that they go to the restaurant for +a lunch before retiring, and Miss Taber, laughing, declaring that too +much pleasure in one day was bad for them. At that moment Williams, a +little flushed, swaggered across the lobby, and, lifting his hat, +advanced toward the group. The girl smiled pleasantly in response to +his greeting, but as he spoke again she stiffened indignantly and +retired a step involuntarily, as she saw he had been drinking. + +"So you prefer that red-headed prison bird to me?" he asked in sneering +tones. + +Betty Tabor flushed, then turned pale and facing the handsome, half +drunken fellow, she gazed at him steadily until, in spite of his +swaggering attitude, he grew uneasy and dropped his eyes. Then she +spoke. She spoke just one word, vibrant with all the scorn and anger +in her being. + +"Yes." + +Without a glance at him she turned and stepped into the waiting car, +leaving Williams staring blankly in the elevator well. The cold scorn +of the girl's single word had stung him more deeply than a volume of +rebuke would have done. Half maddened by jealousy and drink he turned +to cross the lobby, forgetting to replace his hat, and Clancy, whose +attention had been attracted by the pitcher's pursuit of the girl, +grasped him by the shoulder and said sternly: + +"Williams, if you take another drink to-night it will cost you a +month's pay." + +The manager turned to rejoin his wife, and Williams, seething with what +he considered a double dose of injustice, walked unsteadily across the +lobby. He sat down and meditated over his wrongs. He thought of +Edwards and his offer and rising quickly he walked to the telegraph +office and wrote a message, for which he paid as he handed it to the +night operator. Clancy, who had been talking with friends, was waiting +for an elevator and saw his pitcher writing the message. His forehead +knitted into a worried frown as he turned and slowly walked toward the +elevator again, whistling, as was his habit when he was seriously +disturbed. Clancy determined to watch his left-hander. He did not +speak of the matter to anyone, having decided to await developments. +He watched Williams closely during the remaining games against the +Pilgrims, which the Bears won easily, and during the trip to the city +of the Maroons, where Williams was to pitch the opening game of the +series. + +The Bears and Panthers were fighting upon an unchanged basis, only a +fraction of a game separating them in the league standing. With but +eighteen more games remaining on the schedule for the Bears, and +nineteen for the Panthers, the race was becoming more desperate each +day and the nervous strain was commencing to tell upon some of the men. +Clancy was nursing his players, knowing that one disheartening defeat +might mean a break that would lead to a succession of downfalls. The +more he watched Williams the stronger his conviction that something was +amiss. Williams was not acting naturally and his demeanor when with +the other players was a puzzle to Clancy. + +He selected Williams as the pitcher in the first game against the +Maroons with the purpose, being determined to find whether or not the +pitcher was in condition, and he sent Wilcox, his best right-handed +pitcher, out to warm up so as to be ready to rescue Williams at the +first sign of distress. + +"What's the matter with Adonis?" inquired Manager Clancy, as his +catcher and principal adviser returned to the bench after the second +inning. + +"His curve is breaking slow and low and on the inside corner of the +plate to the right-handers," replied Kennedy. "I can't make him keep +it high and out." + +"Make him use his fast one or he'll get Kohinoor killed with one of +those line smashes," ordered Clancy quietly. "Watch him closely, and +if he is loafing, signal me." + +The third inning and the fourth reeled away without a score, and in the +first half of the fifth a base on balls, a steal by Norton and a +crashing drive by Pardridge gave the Bears a score and the lead. +Caton, one of the heaviest hitters of the Maroons, started their half +of the inning, and as he stepped into position Kennedy crouched and +signaled. Williams shook his head quickly and pitched a curve that +broke on the inside corner of the plate. Caton drove the ball with +terrific force straight at McCarthy, who managed to knock it down and +hold the batter to one base. The next batter sacrificed, and Ellis, a +right-handed slugger, came to bat. Again Kennedy signaled for a fast +sidearm ball, pitched high, and again Williams shook his head and +curved one over the plate. Ellis struck the ball with one hand and +sent a carroming down to Swanson, who failed in a desperate effort to +throw out the runner. With men on first and third the Bears' first and +third baseman came close to the plate to cut off the runner, while the +shortstop and second baseman remained in position to make a double play +or to catch the runner stealing. Burley, the giant first baseman of +the Maroons, was at bat, a man noted for his ability to hit any ball +pitched close to him. Williams sent a strike whizzing over the plate. +Again the catcher ordered a fast ball, and he pitched a curve that +Burley fouled off for the second strike. Kennedy, perplexed and +anxious, ran down to consult with the pitcher. Williams sullenly +assented to the order to pitch high and out and waste two balls. +Instead, he threw a curve, low, close to the batter's knees and barely +twisting. Before Kennedy's cry of anger rose the bat crashed against +the ball, which flashed down the third-base line, struck McCarthy on +the arm, then on the jaw, and he went down like a poled ox, the ball +carroming away toward the stand. Before it was recovered one Maroon +had scored and the others were perched on second and third. + +Time was called and players rushed to assist the injured third baseman. +Kennedy threw off his mask and ran to the bench. + +"I signaled him and told him to pitch fast and waste two," he said to +Manager Clancy. "He nodded that he would and then crossed me and +lobbed up an easy curve inside the plate." + +"Don't say a word," cautioned Clancy, as McCarthy, still dazed, but +recovering, was helped to his feet. "Keep ordering him to pitch fast +and outside. Signal me if he disobeys again." + +McCarthy got onto his feet unsteadily, while the trainer worked with +his numb and aching arm. He winced with pain as he tried to throw to +see how badly his arm was damaged. While he was walking slowly back to +the bag, testing his arm anxiously, McCarthy had the second shock. The +cheering in the stands drew his attention, and as he glanced toward the +crowd he saw a girl. She was sitting in one of the field boxes between +two men and she was staring straight at him. McCarthy lifted his cap, +as if acknowledging the tribute to the crowd, but really in salutation +to the girl, who flushed angrily. A wave of resentment stirred +McCarthy. He strove to think that she had failed to recognize him, yet +feeling that the cut was deliberate. + +Play had been resumed, but McCarthy's mind was not upon it. A sharp +yell from Swanson aroused him from his reverie just in time to see a +slow, easy bounding ball coming toward him. He leaped forward, fumbled +the ball an instant, recovered and threw wild. Two runners dashed +home, the batter reached second. McCarthy was thoroughly unnerved. A +few moments later he permitted an easy fly ball to fall safe in left +field without touching it. His errors gave the Maroons two more +scores, and, although the Bears rallied desperately late in the game, +it was too late, and they were beaten 5 to 3. + +A sullen crowd of players climbed into their 'bus under punishment of +the jeers of the crowd that gathered to see them start back to their +hotel. McCarthy, with his shoulder and head aching, but with his heart +aching worse, sat with his chin drawn down into the upturned collar of +his sweater, refusing to be comforted. The Bears were in second place, +half a game behind the Panthers, and he, McCarthy, had lost the game. +Williams was smiling as if pleased and McCarthy blazed with anger. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +_McCarthy Meets Helen_ + +"Come to the hotel parlor at eight this evening. I wish to see you." + +The note, hastily scribbled on hotel letter paper, was awaiting him +when Kohinoor McCarthy entered the hotel after the disastrous game. He +recognized the angular scrawled writing at a glance. Since the moment +his eyes had met those of Helen Baldwin during the game he had been +thinking hard. Her behavior had hurt him and the thought that she +deliberately had refused to recognize him stung his pride. The note +proved she had recognized him on the field. Either she was ashamed of +his profession or did not want the men with her to know that she knew +him. + +McCarthy ate a hurried dinner and paced the lobby of the hotel. He was +anxious to meet the girl, yet he felt a dread of it, an uncertainty as +to the grounds on which their acquaintanceship should be resumed. For +nearly half an hour he waited, growing more impatient with every minute +and wondering whether there had been a mistake. His mind was busy +framing a form of greeting. When last they met it had been as +affianced lovers. Now---- A rustle of soft garments brought him to +his feet and he stepped forward with outstretched hand to meet the +tall, slender girl who came leisurely from the hallway. Her mass of +light, fair hair framed a face of perfect smoothness. + +"Helen," he exclaimed quickly, "this is a pleasant surprise." + +"I wish to talk with you, Larry," she replied without warmth, as she +extended a limp hand, sparkling with jewels. + +"It is good to see you, Helen," he exclaimed, a bit crestfallen because +of her manner. "What brings you East? I was nearly bowled over when I +saw you to-day. I thought you did not know me, but I see you did." + +"Surely you did not expect me to bow to you there," she responded. +"Did you desire all those people to know that I had acquaintances in +that--that class?" + +"Then you chose to cut me deliberately?" he asked. + +"Don't be foolish, Larry," she replied. "A girl must think of herself +and I did not choose to have my companions learn that I was acquainted +with persons in that--profession, do you call it?" + +"Well, if you are ashamed of my profession"--he said hotly. + +"Nonsense," she interrupted him. "I simply did not desire to have +people see me speak to a person who earns his living sliding around in +the dirt on his face. That is what I wanted to see you about. What +new prank is this? Are you seeking notoriety?" + +"I am earning my living," he said. "Baseball is the only thing I could +do well enough to make money." + +"Earn your living?" The girl's surprise was sincere. "You haven't +broken with your Uncle Jim, have you?" + +The girl's eyes grew wider with surprise, and her tone indicated +consternation. + +"I have--or, rather, he has--cut me off," the boy explained rather +sullenly. "I tried to find a job--thought it would be easy here in the +East, but no one wanted my particular brand of ability, and I tried +something I knew I could do." + +"Then you--then your uncle"--the girl's consternation was real, and she +hesitated. "Then our engagement"---- + +"I thought that was broken before I left," he replied. "You said you +wouldn't marry me at all if I told Uncle Jim." + +"I thought you would be sensible," she argued. "Everyone at home +thinks you are sulking somewhere in Europe because of a quarrel with +me. Why didn't you write to me?" + +"After our last interview it did not seem necessary," he said. + +"Oh, Larry," the girl said, pouting, "you've spoiled it for both of us. +If you had done as I wanted you to do everything would have been happy, +and now you humiliate me and all your friends by earning your living +playing with a lot of roughs." + +"They're a pretty decent lot of fellows," he responded indignantly. + +"Why did you do it?" she demanded, on the verge of tears from +disappointment and annoyance. + +"I quarreled with Uncle Jim," he admitted. "I told him I wanted to +marry you, and he told me that if I continued to see you he'd cut me +off." + +"And you lost your temper and left?" she concluded. + +"Just about that," he confessed. "He told me I was dependent upon him, +and said I'd starve if I had to make my own living. Of course, I could +not stand that"---- + +"Of course," she interjected stormily. "I told you that he hated all +our family, but that if we were married he would forgive you." + +"I couldn't cheat him that way," he replied with some heat. "Besides +you had broken with me. I knew he hated your uncle--but I thought if +he knew you"---- + +"He would have," she said, "if you had given him a chance." + +"I told him I could make my living--a living for both if you would have +me," he confessed. + +"Playing ball?" Her tone was bitter. "And you had an idea you would +come East and make your fortune and come back and claim me?" + +"I did have some such idea when I left," he confessed. "It wasn't +until I was broke and unable to find work that I realized how hopeless +it was to think of you." + +"I couldn't bear being poor, Larry," the girl spoke with some feeling. + +"We were poor once. Be sensible. Go back home and make up with Mr. +Lawrence--and when I return"---- + +"I am making a good salary," he said steadily. "I can support two. If +you care enough"---- + +"I couldn't marry a mere ball player," she said, shrugging with disdain. + +"You used to like it when I played at the ranch and at college," he +retorted angrily. + +"That was different," she argued. "There you were a hero--but here you +are a mere professional." + +"But you attend games," he protested. + +"I had to to-day. I am on my way to visit Uncle Barney for the summer, +and his friend insisted upon taking us to the game." + +"Oh, see here, Helen," he protested. "He's your uncle, but everyone +knows he is crooked in politics and in business. Why do you accept his +money?" + +"He is very good to me--and I cannot bear to be poor again." + +"Then you will not"---- + +"Be reasonable, Larry," she interrupted. '"You know I cannot marry a +poor man." + +"Then it was only the money you cared for," he said bitterly. "Uncle +Jim said it was, and I quarreled with him for saying it--and it was +true." + +"You put it coarsely," she said coldly. "You cannot expect me to give +up the luxuries Uncle Barney provides for me and marry a ball player. +Unless you make it up with your uncle I shall consider myself free." + +A stifled exclamation, like a gasp of surprise, startled them, and a +rustle of retreating garments in the adjoining parlor caused McCarthy +to step quickly to the doorway. He was just in time to recognize the +gown. He realized that Betty Tabor had overheard part of the +conversation, and he wondered how much. + +"Some eavesdropper, I suppose," Miss Baldwin remarked carelessly. + +"She came by accident, probably to read, and departed as soon as she +realized it was a private conversation," he said warmly. + +"Then you know her?" she asked quickly. + +"Yes," he replied, realizing he had betrayed undue interest in the +defense. + +"Who is she?" the girl demanded. + +"One of the women with the team, daughter of the secretary," he +explained, striving to appear unconcerned. + +"Is she pretty?" + +"Why--yes--I don't know. She is very pleasant and nice looking." + +"Rather odd, isn't it, a woman traveling with a lot of tough ball +players?" + +"You are unjust," he exclaimed indignantly. "She is with her father +and Mrs. Clancy. Besides, the ball players are not tough--at least +none of them is while she is with the club." + +"You seem ready to rush to her defense," she remarked with jealous +accents. + +"Of course, I cannot let you think she is not a nice girl." + +"Of course not"----her tone was sarcastic. "Traveling around the +country with a crowd of men and eavesdropping in hotel parlors." + +"She would not do such a thing. You must not speak of her in that +way," he stormed indignantly. + +"I congratulate her upon having captured so gallant a champion," she +mocked. + +They were verging upon a sharper clash of words when a big man, heavy +of jaw and red of face, strolled into the parlor, not taking the +trouble to remove his hat. + +"Oh, here you are, Helen," he said. "I've been looking everywhere. +Time to start or we'll be late to bridge." + +"Uncle Barney," said the girl, rising, "this is Mr.--oh, I forget. +What is it you call yourself now?--McCarthy. I knew him when he was at +college. He plays on some baseball team--one of those we saw to-day. +Mr. McCarthy, this is my uncle, Mr. Baldwin." + +"I have heard of you often, Mr. Baldwin," said McCarthy coolly, +although fearful that Baldwin might remember him. + +"You're McCarthy, the new third baseman, eh?" asked Baldwin, without +offering his hand and merely glancing at the boy. "Saw you play +to-day. Too bad you threw that game away." + +"I"----McCarthy started to offer defense. + +"We must be going, Helen," said Baldwin. + +The girl extended her hand carelessly. + +"We hope to have the pleasure of seeing you again," she said. + +Baldwin, with a curt nod to the player, turned to leave the parlor and +McCarthy, seizing the opportunity, said: + +"As a favor, Helen, do not reveal my identity. Your uncle did not +recognize me as the boy he saw play on the Shasta View team." + +"You need not fear," she responded rapidly. "And, Larry, please be +sensible. Go home and make it up with Mr. Lawrence--and you may hope. +And," she added in a low tone, "beware of that girl." + +She hurried after her uncle, who had stopped and turned impatiently, +leaving McCarthy staring after her and frowning. After all, he thought +bitterly, his uncle was right. All she cared for was the money and not +for him. He had quarreled with his uncle, his best friend, who had +taken care of him since his childhood and who had made him his heir--on +account of her. He was free. Yes, he was free. + +He found himself wondering that he was happy instead of bitter over the +loss of Helen Baldwin. He knew now he never had loved her. With a +thrill of gladness came the thought of Betty Tabor. His jaw set, the +fighting look came into his blue eyes and he saw his way clearly. He +was not free. His duty was to the Bears. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +_In the Deeper Waters_ + +Two defeats at the hands of the Maroons sent the Bears into the final +game of the series desperately determined to win. Their pitching staff +was exhausted from the effort to stop the team which they had expected +to beat easily. + +The game was a brilliant exhibition of defensive playing on the part of +the Bears, who were driven back by the hard hitting of the Maroons. In +spite of the fierce batting of the Maroons the magnificent defensive +work of the Bears held their rivals to two runs, while by their +brilliant and resourceful attack and skilful inside work they had +scored three runs on five scattered hits, and at the start of the +eighth inning were holding grimly to their lead of one run. + +McCarthy, spurred by determination to redeem himself for the errors of +the preceding games, was giving a wonderful exhibition of third-base +play. The knowledge that Helen Baldwin, her uncle and a group of +friends were sitting in one of the field boxes directly behind him +urged him to greater efforts. It was his long hit in the sixth inning, +followed by a clever steal of third, that had enabled the Bears to gain +the lead which they were holding by their fast work on the infield. + +The Bears failed to score in their half of the eighth, and the Maroons +opened with a fierce assault upon Klinker that threatened to break down +the Bears' inner wall of defense. Swanson's brilliant stop and throw +of a vicious drive checked the bombardment, but a safe drive and a +two-base hit went whizzing through beyond the finger tips of the diving +infielders, and there were runners on second and third bases, one out +and a hit needed to turn the tide in favor of the Maroons again. + +The infield was drawn close in the hope of cutting off the runner from +the home plate. It was desperate baseball, and, as the infielders +advanced to the edge of the grass, each man knew that a line smash, a +hard-driven bounder between them, or even a fumble, probably meant the +destruction of their pennant hopes. + +The ball was hit with terrific force straight at McCarthy, who threw up +his hands and blocked desperately. The ball tore through his hands, +struck his knee with numbing force and rolled a few feet away. He +pounced upon it and like a flash hurled it to Kennedy at the plate, so +far ahead of the runner who was trying to score that he turned back +toward third, with Kennedy in pursuit. Swanson had come up to cover +third, and the runner from second base stood at the third bag watching +the play, ready to dash back if the runner, trapped between third and +the plate, managed to elude the pursuers and regain third base. +Kennedy passed the ball to Swanson, and as the runner turned back, +Swanson threw to McCarthy, who had fallen in behind Kennedy, leaving +the pitcher to cover the plate if the runner broke through in that +direction. The runner started to dodge, but McCarthy, without an +instant's hesitation, leaped after him and drove him hard back toward +third base, so hard that the runner went on over the bag and ten feet +beyond before he could stop. Like a flash McCarthy leaped sideways, +touched the other runner who was starting back to second base, and, +with a fierce dive, he threw his body between the base and the runner +who had overslid it and tagged him. + +Before he could scramble to his feet to claim the double play he heard +Clancy, excited in spite of his long experience, shouting: "Good +boy--nice work." As the umpire waved both runners out the crowd, +bewildered for an instant by the rapidity with which McCarthy had +executed the coup, commenced to understand and broke into a thundering +round of applause as he limped toward the bench. + +With that attack staved off, the Bears held the Maroons safe in the +ninth and closed the final Western trip of the team with a hard-earned +victory. They started homeward that evening with confidence renewed +and the men hopeful. + +The Bears were scheduled to stop en route to the home grounds to play a +series of three games against the Travelers, a team low in the standing +of the clubs, but one of the most dangerous of all. It was a slow but +heavy-hitting aggregation, and at times more dreaded than were the +stronger clubs. The series was a critical one for the Bears as, after +that, they would return to the home grounds to play all the other +games, with the exception of two against the Blues. + +McCarthy was happier and more interested than he had been since he +joined the Bears. Restlessly he awaited an opportunity to talk with +Betty Tabor. Since his interview with Helen Baldwin he had been +strangely jubilant for a young man who had just been discarded by the +girl to whom he was engaged. He wondered how much of the conversation +Betty Tabor had overheard, and worried about it. He wanted to explain +to her who Miss Baldwin was and how he had happened to be talking with +her, yet he knew it would seem presumptuous for him to broach the +subject. Why should Betty Tabor think enough of him to be jealous? +Yet, in spite of this, he decided that, at the first opportunity, he +would mention meeting Helen Baldwin. + +He went to bed annoyed and with an odd sense of being wronged. He +determined to see the girl at breakfast and almost decided to confide +in her the secret of his past life. But he did not see her at +breakfast. After a restless night he was among the first in the dining +car and he loitered, but the girl, usually one of the earliest risers, +slept late, and when the train reached the city of the Travelers she +went with Manager Clancy and his wife in a taxicab, while McCarthy was +bundled with the other players into the big auto 'bus. He failed to +catch a glimpse of her during luncheon and was in a bad humor when the +team made an early start for the ball park. + +The game was a runaway for the Bears. They piled up such a large score +during the early innings that Manager Clancy was able to take out +Morgan in the sixth and send Shelby, a second-string pitcher, to finish +the game, saving up more strength and skill to use at the finish. + +It was a jubilant crowd of players that returned to the hotel after the +game. They sang and laughed and were happy again. They had won, and +during the afternoon the Panthers, overconfident, had suffered two +defeats by the Maroons, leaving the teams again practically tied for +the lead. + +McCarthy spent the evening loitering around the hotel lobbies, still +hoping for an opportunity to see Miss Tabor, and she failed to appear +at dinner and was not with Mr. and Mrs. Clancy when they started out +for a car ride. He wandered aimlessly around until, abandoning his +quest, he went to his room disconsolately. It was not yet eleven +o'clock, but Swanson was preparing for sleep. As McCarthy came into +the room he stopped to laugh. The giant shortstop was in his pajamas, +on his back in the bed. With one bare foot he was holding a sheet of +paper against the head board, and with a pencil grasped between the +toes of the other foot he was laboriously striving to write. + +"What was you trying to do, Silent?" asked McCarthy, laughing harder. + +"Figuring my share of the World's Series receipts," responded Swanson, +laboring harder. "Clancy said he'd fine any one of us caught with a +pencil in his hand doping out these statistics," said Swanson, "and I +just had to know." + +They were ready to settle down for the night when the telephone rang in +the connecting room. The door between the rooms was ajar, and Swanson +sprang from bed to respond to the call. + +"Hello!" he said. "Hello! Yes, this is Williams's room, but he isn't +in just now. What? Oh, yes, I understand. I'll tell him. +Hello--hold a minute, here he is now." + +"Hey, Adonis," Swanson called to the pitcher, who was just entering the +room from the hallway. "Someone wants you." + +He handed the receiver to Williams carelessly and walked back into the +room, where McCarthy was stretched upon the bed reading. His face was +working rapidly as if trying to tell McCarthy something by lip signals. + +"I'm tired," said Swanson in a loud tone; "let's sleep late in the +morning." Then approaching McCarthy's bed he said in a whisper: +"Listen. Try to catch what he says." + +"Hello! Yes, this is Williams," said the pitcher brusquely. Then his +voice changed suddenly. "Yes, Ed, I know you. To-night? Aw, say, Ed, +I've got to have sleep! Can't it wait? I'll be there in a quarter of +an hour." + +He hurried out of the room, and before the door slammed behind him +Swanson had leaped from bed and was dressing with great haste. + +"Kohinoor, that was Easy Ed Edwards calling him." + +"What are you going to do?" inquired McCarthy. + +"Get a move on yourself," ordered the giant. "Something is up and I +want to know what it is. Wait a minute," he added as if by sudden +inspiration, and ran to the telephone. + +"Hello," he said to the operator. "Can you tell me where that call for +Mr. Williams came from just now? He has forgotten which hotel he is to +meet his friend at. Thank you," he said after a moment's wait. + +"Hurry. He's going to the Metropolis Hotel," he ordered. "We must +catch up with him." + +They dressed with the speed of men accustomed to changing clothing four +or five times a day, and before Williams had been five minutes on his +way they were racing for the elevator. Swanson, hastily leaping into a +waiting taxicab, ordered the driver to make all possible speed to the +corner nearest the Metropolis Hotel. + +"What is up?" asked McCarthy, as they settled back in the cushions of +the taxi as it lurched over the pavement. + +"There is something funny going on in this ball club," said Swanson. +"And I am going to find out what it is. Whatever it is, Williams is +mixed up in it. I want to find out why he is meeting Edwards to-night +and what is up." + +"What do you think?" asked McCarthy. + +"I haven't got it figured out," said Swanson, scratching his head. +"There has been something wrong for two weeks. Ever since you joined +the club Williams hasn't been natural. He acts mysterious off the +field and worse than that on it. He has only won one of his last three +games, and ought to have lost them all the way he pitched." + +The taxi jerked to a stop at the corner opposite the hotel, and +Swanson, after reconnoitering carefully, led the way across the street +and into the cafe. + +"I used to know this place like a book when I was hitting the booze," +he said. "They'll be in here--or I don't know Williams. Let's take +the corner booth so we can see who comes in and goes out." + +Five minutes later two men came through the swinging doors from the +hotel lobby. Swanson could see them, but McCarthy was out of the range +of vision. Swanson drew back deeper into the booth. + +"Who is it?" inquired McCarthy in a whisper. + +"Sh--h! It's Williams and Edwards. They're going into the booth next +to us. Put your ear close to the partition. I'd give a farm to hear +them." + +The players sipped their soft drinks, while in turn they strove to hear +what was passing in the next booth. Occasionally they could +distinguish a voice, but the words were unintelligible. Ten minutes of +vain listening ensued. Then a heavy man in evening clothes hurried +into the cafe, and after a hasty glance into the booths entered the one +in which Edwards and Williams were waiting. + +"I wonder who that fat man is?" whispered Swanson. + +"It's a lucky thing he didn't recognize me," replied McCarthy in low +tones. "That's Barney Baldwin, the broker and politician, one of the +big men of this part of the country--and a crook." + +"Whew," whistled Swanson. "Let's sneak. We can't hear anything--and +the water is getting deep." + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +_Baldwin Gets into the Plot_ + +The events that led up to the midnight conference between Barney +Baldwin, Ed Edwards and Adonis Williams in the booth at the Metropolis +Hotel that night would have been of vast interest to several millions +of baseball enthusiasts had they known of them. + +They started with the arrival of Easy Ed Edwards in the city of the +Travelers. He had run down to watch the game between the Bears and the +Travelers in rather a pleasant frame of mind. His plans for a huge +gambling coup seemed to be working out well, and, with the Panthers +holding a lead of a game and a half, with but eleven more games to be +played, he was adding to his line of wagers. The double defeat of the +Panthers and the easy victory of the Bears had placed a new aspect on +the league race, with the Bears again favorites. Edwards had left the +baseball park in the middle of the game in a frenzy of anger. It was +too late now for him to attempt to lay off his bets, and he stood to +lose more than $100,000 if his plans to have the Panthers win the +pennant from the Bears went astray. It was in this mood that he +returned to the hotel and commenced to make drastic plans. In the +lobby of the hotel he encountered Barney Baldwin. + +"Hello, Barney," he said, shaking hands with the broker. "What brings +you down?" + +"Hello, Ed," replied the big man cordially. "Let's have a drink. I've +been away a month out West visiting the family. Brought my niece on +East with me. Just got home and heard that things are going wrong, so +I ran over here last night to see what sort of cattle have been +breaking up my political fences while I've been gone. What brings you +over here?" + +"Baseball--ran down to see the game to-day. Rotten game." + +"Didn't know you were interested in baseball," said the politician. +"I'm pretty well satisfied with the situation--both my clubs up there +fighting for the lead, and I'm getting it coming and going." + +"Both your clubs?" ejaculated the gambler. "I knew you had some stock +in some club. How much of the Bears and Panthers do you own?" + +"Well, I can control both in a pinch. I don't pay much attention to +them. I let the fellows I hire as presidents of the clubs do the +worrying." + +"If you own both these clubs you and I can do a little business," said +the gambler, lowering his voice. "Come on up to my rooms and we'll +have our drinks sent up there where we can talk." + +"I haven't much time, Ed," protested Baldwin. "I want to meet some of +the boys down here and learn how the political situation is stacking +up." + +They ascended to Edwards's rooms and when they were seated the gambler +rang for wine, and, leaning forward, said: + +"You want your man, Hoskins, to go to the Senate when the Legislature +meets this winter?" + +"Why--not exactly--my political plans are rather indefinite. Hoskins +is an acceptable man"---- + +"Oh, chop it," said the gambler sharply. "There's no use for us to try +to fool each other. You want to put Hoskins over and you know you're +going to have a deuce of a time crowding him through." + +"Admitting that to be the case, what then?" + +"I think I can push it over for you," the gambler said easily. "Up +home I've got four members of the Legislature where they will do what I +say--and perhaps can handle two others. With those four your man would +go over--if you've lined up as many members as the papers say you have." + +"Rather early to count noses," Baldwin started to protest. "We may +line up several others"---- + +"Nothing doing!" exclaimed Edwards sharply. "You've got all you +can--the others are lined up either with the high brows or against you +under Mullins. I can deliver four, possibly six, of Mullin's votes +that he counts as sure." + +"What do you want out of it?" The politician was interested at last. + +"Does it make any difference to you whether the Bears or the Panthers +win?" Edwards put the question as if casually. + +"It don't make any difference to me," Baldwin retorted curtly. "I'm +not a bit interested in baseball--except to make money out of the +teams. I bought the stock as part of a political deal--to help someone +out--and it turned out a good investment. What has that to do with it?" + +"Baldwin," said the gambler, leaning forward again and speaking in low +tones, "you see to it that the Panthers beat the Bears out in that +pennant race, and I'll deliver you at least five votes for your man." + +"That's easy," remarked Baldwin. "I can turn that quickly enough, but +I don't see where you get off." + +"You make it a sure thing and I'll tend to my own part of it," said the +gambler. "I'll get mine, but I'm not so certain you can do it as +easily as you think." + +"Why not--don't both clubs belong to me?" + +"Sure they do," said the gambler, "but baseball is a hard thing to +monkey with. You've got to handle it carefully, for if the fact came +out we'd be in such hot water we'd both scald." + +"Nonsense," said Baldwin testily. "I'll call the presidents in, +explain what I want and let them do it." + +"Keep off that stuff," warned the gambler. "You don't seem to know +much about this game. If you tried to tell Clancy to lose this pennant +he'd run straight to some reporter, and the whole country would be up +in arms. I shouldn't wonder if they'd lynch you." + +"Then how do you propose having it done?" asked the political boss, for +once willing to listen to advice. He had no qualms of conscience. To +him baseball meant a game, and the fact that hundreds of thousands of +persons in all parts of the country were vitally interested either in +the Bears or the Panthers did not count with him. He only sought the +easiest and safest way to accomplish his ends without arousing +suspicion. + +"I have one of the Bears fixed," said Edwards. "But I'm afraid of him. +He is crooked and willing to deliver, but he is yellow--lacks +courage--and he is likely to fail to deliver just when I need him most. +The first thing I want you to do is to help stiffen this fellow's +backbone. After that we'll try to get at someone else. If you say +it's all right and promise to protect them we will find it easier." + +"This must be a big thing for you, Edwards," suggested Baldwin as +another drink was served and the waiter departed. + +"I don't mind telling you that if the Bears win I'll almost be +smashed," replied the gambler angrily. "I was fool enough to play the +game myself. I picked the Panthers to win and made a lot of scattering +bets all summer. Then Carson, the Bears' third baseman, broke a leg. +They tried to keep it quiet as long as possible. I had a friend in the +club who tipped off to me an hour after it happened that Carson's leg +was smashed in two places. I jumped right in and plunged, thinking +that without Carson the Bears hadn't a chance. Then along comes this +blanked red-head and turns it all upside down." + +"What red-head?" + +"McCarthy--that kid third baseman. He's been winning games right along +that they ought to have lost, and it looks as if the Bears will win out +anyhow--unless you can stop them." + +"McCarthy, eh?" Baldwin smiled patronizingly for the first time. "My +boy, don't worry. You may know baseball better than I do--but you've +hit something I know about. I think I can handle this McCarthy. I +believe you can get ready to deliver those votes. I must be going now." + +"I'm going to send for that pitcher I've got fixed, to-night," said +Edwards. + +"Have him down about ten, or a little later," suggested Baldwin +genially as he arose to leave. + +It was the arrival of Baldwin in the barroom to attend the meeting with +Adonis Williams and Easy Ed Edwards that Silent Swanson and Kohinoor +McCarthy saw--and it was well for McCarthy's peace of mind that he did +not hear what transpired at that meeting. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +_Williams Caught in the Net_ + +Baldwin, by nature, was pompous and patronizing. In his capacity as +political boss, representing certain more or less questionable +financial interests, he distributed political patronage with an air of +one bestowing great favors personally. + +Baldwin's rise to riches and to a certain degree of power had been a +strange one. He had been a bartender, and had by a certain selfish +economy and "touching the till" acquired sufficient money to purchase +the saloon in which he was employed from the honest German who had +trusted him almost to the verge of bankruptcy. Certain wealthy men and +some others interested in public utilities had seen in Baldwin a proper +catspaw, and, in a small way, had used him in politics. From that he +had developed quickly into an official collector of graft money from +disorderly houses, saloons, and gamblers. + +Baldwin had become more and more independent financially and more +powerful politically as he learned the game. He was shrewd and quick +to learn. His share of the collections became larger and larger until +in time he was admitted to the higher circle of graft, and, having +served his apprenticeship, he had others to collect for him and take +the greater risk of going to prison. Eventually, by cunning catering +to big interests, he became the political boss of his city, stockholder +in several public utilities, and head of a brokerage firm, which he +maintained more to account for his possession of wealth than to do +business, although favored in many instances in bond deals. His +purchase of stock in baseball clubs had been incidental. He knew +little of the game and cared less. He was satisfied with the large +returns on the stock and avoided publicity in advertising himself as +owner of either team through fear of causing an increase in the demand, +"Where did you get it?" + +Easy Ed Edwards, while waiting in the booth of the Metropolis Cafe, had +told Adonis Williams the name of the man for whom they were waiting. + +"Now get wise, Adonis," he advised, in friendly tones. "I'll tip you +to something no one outside a few is on to. Baldwin owns this club +you're pitching for, and he owns the Panthers. I had it from him +to-night that he wants the Panthers to win the pennant this season. +You toss off a game or two to help him and you'll be strong with him +for life. You know he holds this State in his vest pocket." + +"Ain't I trying my best?" said Williams. "Clancy won't let me work +often now. He was working me to death until a couple of weeks ago and +now he's always saving me for some other team. I asked him to get in +to-morrow. Maybe I'll work. If I do I'll make good and lose it." + +"Here he comes now," said Edwards in a low tone as Baldwin came +pompously into the barroom in search of them. "I'll talk and let you +hear what he wants." + +"Ah, here we are," said Baldwin pompously, as he discovered them. +"Order a bottle of wine, Ed, and introduce me to your friend." + +He already was well warmed with drink and looser and less cautious in +his conversation than customary. + +"Glad to meet you, Williams," he said as Edwards went through the +formalities of introduction. "I've seen you pitch. Had a good season?" + +"Fair," said Williams, striving to appear modest. "I've won twenty-six +and lost eleven--some of them tough ones, especially lately." + +"Sorry to spoil your record, my boy," said Baldwin patronizingly, "but +you must lose a few more for the interests of all concerned." + +"Not so loud, Baldwin," warned Edwards. + +"All right, all right," assented Baldwin unvexed. "Let's have another +bottle. + +"Now, young fellow," he continued in a low tone when the drink was +served, "you know who I am. I don't forget my friends. That's my +motto. Anyone who does anything that helps me, or helps a friend of +mine"---- + +He paused to wave his hand indicating that Edwards was the friend. + +The man was half drunk and too loose with his talk to please the more +cautious gambler. + +"Adonis here is all right," said the gambler suavely. "I don't blame +him for being a little bit cautious. You see, Barney, Adonis wasn't +sure the big men behind the game wanted it to go that way and I don't +blame him. I wanted him to understand how the owners feel." + +"I'm wise, I guess," said Williams, warming with the wine. "All I need +is the chance, and I'll make the Panthers win it." + +"You understand," Baldwin said pompously, "it won't do at all for +owners to have anything to do with the games; that's the reason I don't +care to have my name mentioned in connection with the Bears or the +Panthers, but in this case it is to all our interests to have the +Panthers win. My boy, I'll take care of you well, if you deliver the +goods." + +"You may count on me. We have ten more games to play, and I ought to +work three, maybe four. I can lose two or three and make it a cinch." + +"That's the talk," said Baldwin genially. "You know which side your +bread is buttered on." + +"Yes," remarked Edwards, "he does--but he wants it on both sides. He's +had chances already to end this race, and won instead of losing." + +"I couldn't help it," retorted Williams. "You know, Ed, I tried to +lose, but that red-headed four-flush was lucky enough to keep me from +it. You know I don't dare to make it too raw. Clancy might get +suspicious." + +"This McCarthy seems to be the trouble maker all 'round," suggested +Baldwin. "With him eliminated it ought to be easy, hadn't it?" + +"Him a good ball player!" ejaculated Williams angrily. "Say, he's a +bum. He's just lucky." + +"I don't want any more such luck," sneered Edwards. "The next time +you're in there you lose the game right--you hear? Let them get a big +bunch of runs right quick so no one can save the game." + +"Maybe Clancy won't let me pitch," objected the star whiningly. "I +can't make him let me pitch." + +"I'll see to that," said Baldwin casually. "I'll see the president in +the morning and have him tell this Clancy to let you pitch. Then he'll +put you in." + +"Don't be too certain of that," said Edwards. "Clancy usually runs the +team to suit himself--and he plays to win." + +"You leave that to me," replied Baldwin complacently. "I usually get +what I want. Meantime, I think I can fix this young fellow Mac. I'll +have a little talk with him in the morning." + +"Don't let him find out that you know either of us," warned Edwards. +"He's a pretty cagey young fellow from what I hear." + +"Trust me for that," said the big man. "I've handled wise fish before +now, and landed them without using a net." + +"You know anything about him?" inquired Williams. + +"Yes--and no. Anyhow I am pretty close to someone--a woman--who knows +him and knows all about him." + +"I wish I did," snarled Williams, now growling mean from the effects of +drink. "Who's the woman?" + +"She's someone whose name won't appear in this matter," replied the +politician reprovingly. "She's a relative of mine. I think he is in +love with her and she turned him down cold. Let's have another bottle +and break up the party." + +"He was in love with her?" asked Williams eagerly, as a plan for +revenge flashed through his mind. + +"I believe so," said Baldwin carelessly. "Family affair. Never heard +the details. Of course she couldn't marry a fellow of that class." + +The three men emerged from the booth, Williams and Baldwin flushed and +unsteady from the drink, Edwards cold and revealing not a trace of the +wine. + +"Williams, you'd better go out the front door," he said quietly. "It +wouldn't do for you to be seen around the lobby with us at this hour." + +Fifteen minutes later Swanson and McCarthy, in their beds, heard +Williams enter the adjoining room unsteadily and hastily prepare for +bed. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +_McCarthy in Disgrace_ + +Events crowded upon each other rapidly the following day. The first +was a telephone call soon after breakfast that summoned Manager Clancy +to the Metropolis Cafe. + +"Hello, Mac," said Clancy gladly. "How you hittin' em? Haven't seen +you in an age. How's tricks?" + +"Pretty good, Bill. You're looking fine," replied McMahon, manager of +the cafe, who in his youth had played ball on the team with the now +famous Clancy. "I was worried about something I heard this morning and +thought I'd send for you. I couldn't come up." + +"What is it? Let's have a drink--make mine grape juice." + +"When I came down this morning Johnny, the night man, told me one of +your players was in here until after midnight last night," said the old +ball player. + +"Which one?" demanded the manager angrily. + +"He didn't know him, except that he was a ball player. He was a +sandy-haired fellow, rather slender and wiry looking." + +"McCarthy--maybe," said the manager thoughtfully and worried. "I +didn't think that bird would do it. Something funny." + +He had leaped at the identification. + +"That isn't the worst of it, Bill," continued McMahon, "that fellow was +with Easy Ed Edwards and a big fat guy in a dress suit." + +"What?" demanded Clancy, starting indignantly. "Sure of that?" + +"Johnny knows Ed Edwards. They sat in the booth over there and had +four quarts of wine, and the player was pretty well lighted up when +they got out." + +"Thanks, Mac," said Clancy worriedly. "This is tough news at this +stage of the game. I'll have to take a look into it." + +Clancy, his weather-beaten face furrowed with a heavy frown, walked +slowly back to the hotel. + +President Bannard, of the Bears, was waiting for him in the lobby. + +"Good morning, Bill," he said. "You're out early. I wanted to see +you." + +"Had some business downtown and went out an hour or so ago," replied +the manager. "What's the woe?" + +"Who's going to pitch to-day?" asked the president. + +"I don't know. I never decide in advance," responded the manager +carelessly. "Guess it will be either Wilcox or Williams--whichever one +looks best warming up." + +"If it's all the same to you," said the president diplomatically, "I +wish you'd let Williams work." + +"Why?" demanded Clancy, on the defensive in an instant. + +"It's this way, Bill," explained the president. "You know I don't own +this club. I've got most of my money in it, but another fellow has +control of the stock. He is going to the game and he asked me to let +Williams pitch, as he never has seen him work." + +"Williams hasn't been very steady in his last three games," remarked +the manager thoughtfully. "I don't want to risk this pennant to please +anyone, no matter if he owns the whole league." + +"Well, you said yourself that your choice was between Williams and +Wilcox, so I can't see it makes any difference." + +"You know I don't like to announce pitchers ahead of time," said the +manager. + +"It seems to me the owner ought to have a right"---- + +"Now look here, Bannard," said Clancy sharply, "when I signed this +contract it was with the agreement that I was to run the business on +the ball field and let your end of it alone. I'm perfectly willing to +oblige a stockholder, but I'm going to win this pennant, and I'll do +what I please with the playing end of the game. If Adonis looks good +warming up he'll go in, if he don't I'll send someone else to the +slab--and that goes." + +"Well--have it your own way"; the president had surrendered entirely to +the aggressive manager. "Put him in if you can, and if you can't I'll +explain that he wasn't right--twisted himself or something." + +Clancy went to his room puzzled and annoyed and, as usual, he sought +advice and enlightenment by consulting Mrs. Clancy, whose abundant good +nature and portliness formed a striking contrast with his seriousness +and slenderness. + +"Willie," she said, laying down her sewing after Clancy had stood at +the window, whistling and gazing out for ten minutes without saying a +word. "Well, Willie--who has broken a leg or sprung a Charlie horse +now?" + +"Nothing much, mother," said the big manager quietly. "Nothing +much--just worrying a little over the way things are going." + +"Bill Clancy," she ejaculated indignantly. "Do you think you can fool +anyone with that talk? Do you think I could live with you eighteen +years, come next Martinmas, and not know when you're in trouble? Tell +your old lady what it is." + +"Sure, mother," he said fondly, coming to put his arm around her waist. +"Haven't you enough troubles of your own?" + +"Me have troubles?" She was indignant. "Nothing troubles me but +worrying over those pesky boys of yours. What's wrong now, Willie?" + +"One of the boys out skylarking last night--and drinking." + +"Saints forgive him," she said piously, but with a note of relief. +"Sure you'll not be fining the poor boy? Perhaps he needed a drink or +two to keep up his courage." + +"Nothing like that, mother," he replied seriously. "This was one of +the young fellows out with some gamblers drinking wine till past +midnight. It looks serious." + +"Now, Bill Clancy, you just send for that boy to come right up here and +talk it over. Tell him he must behave and explain what it means to all +the boys. Then you'll shame him and he'll be a good boy. They're all +good boys," she protested earnestly, "only they do try a poor woman." + +"I guess that's the best plan, mother," he said. "You trot over into +the other room and I'll have him up." + +"Which one is it this time, Willie?" + +"McCarthy!" + +"McCarthy--why, Willie, he wouldn't--there's some mistake. That poor +boy wouldn't do such a thing. And him grieving his heart out because +Betty Tabor won't treat him well any more. That's what's the trouble, +Willie." + +"We'll see what it is," said the manager, checking her flow of defense +curtly. "I'll have him up. You run into the other room with the +sewing and--don't listen." + +His telephone call found McCarthy in his room, and the young third +baseman promptly ascended to the manager's apartment and entered +innocently. + +"Good morning, Boss," he said, following the burlesque style of +greeting used by the Bears to their manager. + +"Good morning," said Clancy curtly, as he scrutinized the face of the +player for signs of a debauch and found the blue eyes clear and fresh. + +"You wanted to see me?" inquired McCarthy, thrown a little off his easy +bearing. + +"Yes--where were you last night?" + +"I--in my room"--he suddenly remembered the excursion with Swanson. "I +was out for a while," he concluded lamely. + +"Were you in the cafe of the Metropolis Hotel late?" + +"Yes," confessed McCarthy, bridling at the tone employed by the +manager. "I was in there." + +"Drinking?" + +"Yes--lemonade." + +"Nothing stronger?" + +"No." + +"No wine?" + +"No--I'm not in the wine class." + +"Who were you with?" + +"You're the manager," said McCarthy quietly, although he was rebellious +inwardly. "You may ask me anything you want to about myself or my +actions--but you surely don't expect me to tell on anyone else?" + +"I don't want you to tell on any ball player--but who were you with?" + +"I'm not at liberty to tell." + +"You needn't tell me--I know," said the manager angrily. "You got up +out of bed to go there to meet Easy Ed Edwards--and you were with him +while three of you drank four quarts of wine." + +For an instant McCarthy clenched his hands until the nails bit into the +palms, and a flood of angry color flashed into his face. With an +effort he controlled himself. + +"You've got everything backwards," he said at last, gazing straight at +the angry manager. "I can't explain just now--but you'll find out some +day--and apologize." + +He turned without another word and left the room. Clancy, who had +expected angry denials, threats, perhaps a personal encounter, sat +gazing at the closed door, and then to himself he said: + +"It looks bad, but hanged if I don't believe him. No fellow could lie +and look like that." + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +_McCarthy Defies Barney Baldwin_ + +"Pardridge, playing third base in place of McCarthy, Holleran in left. +Morton and Kennedy, battery for the Bears." + +This announcement, bawled by a battery of megaphone men in front of the +crowded stands that afternoon was the first intimation that McCarthy +had of the contemplated action of Manager Clancy in taking him out of +the game. He sprang from the end of the bench, where he was tying his +shoes, toward the manager, an angry exclamation on his lips, and his +blue eyes flashing as they narrowed to the battle slit. Swanson, who +was sitting next him, fondling a bat, seized McCarthy with his +tremendous grip and jerked him back to his seat. + +"Steady, boy, steady," the big Swede cautioned. "Take your medicine. +Show your gameness." + +"I'm laid off," said McCarthy as if astonished. "It isn't right. He's +laying me off for something he thinks I did"---- + +"Don't quit--be game," cautioned Swanson. "Tell me about it to-night." + +McCarthy was miserable, and his face revealed it. Swanson, hardened by +years of facing such little tragedies, of seeing the hearts of young +players broken under such punishment, sympathized, but preserved a +cheerful demeanor as he selected his bats and prepared for the battle. + +"Buck up, Jimmy boy," said Swanson, sitting down beside him and +pretending to be retying his shoe laces. "We'll win this one anyhow, +and to-night we'll have a talk with Clancy after he cools down. I can +square things with him." + +The comforting words of the kindly, big shortstop helped McCarthy. +Clancy did not look toward the youngster, who sat huddled in his heavy +sweaters on the opposite end of the bench watching the game and going +over and over in his mind the circumstances that had led to his +punishment and banishment from the team. + +The game proceeded rapidly. The Bears scored a run in the second +inning on Swanson's long drive against the left field fence for three +bases, and a fly to the outfield, on which Swanson came by sliding +under the catcher. In the fourth the Travelers evened up the score on +an error by Pardridge, who, off his balance by his sudden change of +position, threw wild and allowed a runner to score from second base. +The score remained tied until the fifth, neither team being able to hit +the opposing pitcher's delivery hard enough to send home a run. Then +Pardridge misplayed an easy bounder and, recovering, hurled wildly +toward second base, striving to force out a runner coming down from +first. His throw went on high and far into right field, one runner +scored, the batter was perched on second and the crowd was in a tumult, +thinking that the inevitable break had come. A crashing base-hit sent +home another runner, and with the score 3 to 1 against them the Bears +faced one of the supreme tests of nerve of the season. + +Gamely they rallied in the fifth and again in the sixth inning, but +failed to reach even terms again as Carver, the best pitcher of the +Travelers, was holding them by clever work. Each time they forced men +to within reaching distance of the plate he settled, and using more +speed, checked the attacks and made the game one sequence of +disappointments for the Bears. + +The seventh inning proved uneventful, although the crowd arose and +stood to urge the Travelers to make certain the victory and "rooted" +with the unholy glee that all crowds show over the downfall of a +champion. + +The eighth commenced. A base on balls paved the way and gave the Bears +a chance to exhibit their resourceful style of attack which had +overthrown so many opposing teams. The Travelers played deep, +believing that with two runs needed to tie the score the Bears would +not attempt to sacrifice, and Noisy Norton hooked his bat around +quickly, dropped a bunt down the third-base line, and beat the ball to +first base before Pickett, the third baseman of the Travelers, who had +been caught asleep, could reach the ball. + +McCarthy glanced toward the seat where Edwards, the gambler, sat. Easy +Ed's face was hard and set. He gripped the front of the box. The +gambler's iron nerve was shaken. Swanson rushed to the plate, swinging +two bats, and crouching, he pushed his bat back and forth as if +determined to lay down a sacrifice bunt. The Traveler infield crept +closer to stop the bunt. One ball was pitched wide. Again Swanson +crouched, and as the second pitched ball came whizzing up he made a +sharp, quick lunge; the ball went like a flash across first base, as +Davis dived vainly toward it, rolled onto foul ground, and before the +right fielder could retrieve the ball as it glanced along the front of +the stands, two runs were across the plate and the score was tied. + +McCarthy looked again. Edwards's usually stony face was writhing with +fury and disappointment as he leaned forward. The panic had seized the +Travelers. The infield was pulled close to intercept the runner at the +plate, and the shortstop, over anxious to make the play, fumbled the +easy grounder. Before the inning closed five runs were across the +plate; the Bears had snatched victory from defeat, and they clung to +their lead and won 6 to 3. + +As the last batter for the Travelers went out on a long fly to the +Bears' center fielder, McCarthy saw Edwards rise and hurl his cigar +viciously against the floor of the box, then turn to gaze long and +earnestly toward the Bear bench. Suddenly he gave a nod of his head +and McCarthy, following the line of the gambler's gaze, saw Williams +flush and then pale, as he turned to help the bat-boy pack the clubs. + +McCarthy had intended to follow Swanson's suggestion and to plan with +Swanson what course to adopt in explaining to Manager Clancy how +matters stood, but he did not have the opportunity. Waiting in the +lobby of the hotel when he returned, he found Barney Baldwin, who +accosted him. + +"You're McCarthy, the fellow my niece, Miss Baldwin, introduced me to, +aren't you?" he asked pompously, pretending to be uncertain of the +identity. + +"Yes." + +"Well, young fellow, I want to have a quiet little talk with you. Come +up to my room at the Metropolis as soon as you get dressed. It's +important." + +They talked for a few minutes and McCarthy promised to come to the +Metropolis after dinner. He hastened to his room, and to his +disappointment found that Swanson had dressed hastily and already was +gone. Nor did the big Swede come to dinner, and McCarthy was compelled +to leave the hotel without seeing him in order to keep his engagement +with Baldwin. + +He was ushered into a pretentious apartment in the Metropolis, where +Baldwin was awaiting him, with a bottle of wine in the cooler at the +side of the table and a box of choice cigars at hand. + +"Sit down, my boy, sit down," urged Baldwin cordially. "Have a drink +and a cigar." + +"Thanks--I'll smoke. I'm not drinking," said McCarthy quietly. "You +wanted to see me?" + +"Yes. You see I called Helen up over the long distance to-day and had +quite a talk with her about you. She dropped a few hints before she +left and I wanted to hear more of you." + +"Then she told you who I am?" + +"She told me you were a young man of good family and that you were +playing under an assumed name--but, of course, having promised, she +wouldn't tell more." + +"Now, I know how it is. You're in some trouble at home and just +bull-headed enough to refuse to give in. I admire you for it, my +boy--but it is youthful folly. Helen tells me she was engaged to you, +but broke off the engagement because you wouldn't go back home and quit +baseball. Now I want to see the thing in the right light. You come +and run down to my summer place with me to-morrow, spend a week or two +there with Helen, get things straightened out, and meanwhile I'll act +as peacemaker and fix things up so you can go home and eat the fatted +calf." + +"You've tackled a tough job," said McCarthy, grinning in spite of +himself at the mental picture of his uncle receiving overtures in his +behalf from Barney Baldwin, his bitterest enemy. + +"I'm certain it is a mere trifle when looked at in the right light," +urged Baldwin. "I can explain things. I'll wire your people that you +are visiting with us, and we'll forget all about this baseball +foolishness. Better come along." + +"I thank you for your good intentions, Mr. Baldwin," replied McCarthy +quietly, "but it is impossible. In the first place, the plan you +suggest would be about the worst possible--and more important than +that, I can't quit the team until it wins the pennant." + +"Now we're getting down to cases, my boy," said Baldwin, smoking +easily. "I want you to go, for your own sake, but I also want you to +go because I don't want the Bears to win that pennant. They haven't +treated you right, and they can't blame you if you quit." + +"You want me to throw the pennant race?" demanded McCarthy angrily. +"That's why you want me to leave the team, is it? I'll see you in +h---- first--I'm in bad with the manager--but I won't quit the team." + +"Now, now, my boy," interrupted Baldwin soothingly. "Take a sensible +view of it. It's for the best interests of all concerned. It don't +mean anything to you if you run back home, square yourself with the +family--and quit interfering with our plans." + +"You're a crook, Baldwin," said the third baseman threateningly. "My +uncle, James Lawrence, always said you were a crook and a thief, and +now I know it. I wouldn't quit now for all his money and all yours +together. I'll stick to the team and we'll win this pennant in spite +of you and your rotten gang." + +The effect of his words caused him to stop in surprise and alarm. The +big man, who had been sipping his wine, suddenly grew apoplectic and +sat staring at him. Baldwin stared at the slender youth as if at a +ghost. Suddenly he lurched forward as if to arise, and emitted a +torrent of oaths. + +[Illustration: Baldwin stared at the slender youth] + +"You Jim Lawrence's nephew?" he half screamed. "You his boy? Well, by +----, I'll break you. I'll fix you--I'll"---- + +He pitched forward as if in a fit, and McCarthy, after ringing for +assistance, waited until the house physician had revived the big man, +then hurried back to his hotel, puzzled and excited and vaguely alarmed +over the developments of the evening. + +Swanson was not yet in the room. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +_McCarthy Balks the Plotters_ + +It was past two o'clock when McCarthy was awakened from his troubled +sleep by the entrance of Swanson. + +"Hello, Silent," said McCarthy sleepily. "What time is it?" + +"Past two," said the shortstop, for once seeming unwilling to talk. +"Better get to sleep--you'll be in again to-day." + +"Where have you been?" asked McCarthy, wide awake in an instant and +interested. + +"Trailing," replied Swanson. "I've found out a few things. Meanwhile +I had a talk with Clancy. You little squarehead, why didn't you tell +him I was with you? Do you want to get yourself in bad by some fool +notion of protecting me? I couldn't tell him what we were doing--but I +told him you were with me, that you weren't drinking, and that you +weren't with Edwards." + +"What have you been doing all night?" asked McCarthy, restored to +happiness by the tidings. + +"Finding out things. I trailed Williams downtown right after the game. +He had dinner with Edwards in a private room. I couldn't find out what +happened, but Williams came out looking as if he had been jerked +through a knot hole. Then Edwards met that fat party that had you in +his room." + +"Is he in it, too?" asked McCarthy. + +"Yes--who and what is he?" + +"His name is Baldwin. He's a big politician and broker here in the +East and I knew him out West, where he owns a ranch." + +"What did he want with you?" + +"He wanted me to quit the team and run back home. I told him where he +got off. The idea of asking me to quit the boys now, when they may +need me!" + +"I can imagine what you said," laughed Swanson. "Did you kick him on +the shins and try to make him fight?" + +"I wanted to," replied McCarthy savagely. "I can't see where he gets +into this affair at all. There's something queer all round." + +"Listen, Kohinoor," said Swanson. "Someone wants to beat the Bears out +of this pennant, and whoever it is is turning every trick possible to +beat us. I suspect they've got to Williams and that he is trying to +throw games, and I've been working all night trying to get the goods on +him. We can't run to Clancy with a yarn like that unless we're ready +to prove it. Now go to sleep and get ready to win to-morrow's +game--to-day's, rather." + +McCarthy lay staring, sleepless, into the darkness, his brain whirling +as he strove to penetrate the maze of intrigue and plotting of which he +seemed the center. Half an hour passed, then, as he turned in bed, a +sleepy voice from the next bed asked: + +"Asleep, Kohinoor?" + +"No." + +"Then quit worrying. I had a talk with Betty Tabor to-night, and you +needn't worry. She don't believe all she hears." + +"What did she say, Silent?" asked McCarthy, sitting up in bed suddenly. + +"Aw, go to sleep," responded Swanson, as he rolled over, chuckling at +the manner in which McCarthy had betrayed his interest. + +It was nearly noon when Swanson and McCarthy descended to the hotel +lobby in better frames of mind. + +Manager Clancy, serious and worried, was talking with a gray-haired man +and a younger man. McCarthy observed them and grew uncomfortable under +their close scrutiny as the three turned toward him and focussed their +eyes upon him. He felt relieved when the smaller man shook his head +positively and was not surprised a moment later when Clancy came +forward toward him and said frankly: + +"Forget it, Kohinoor. Case of mistaken identity." He grasped +McCarthy's hand and gave it a crunching grip as he added: "When you get +ready to tell me what you know I want to hear it." + +The manager did not attempt any further apology, but McCarthy felt as +if a load had been lifted from his mind. + +"I can't make any charges until I have proof," he replied steadily. +"If ever I can back up what I suspect, I'll tell you--first." + +"Swanson explained partly," said the manager. "I understand. Get in +there to-day and hustle." + +It was the final game of the trip and the Bears, with confidence +renewed, went into it determined to rush the attack and win quickly. +When the batting practice started McCarthy was surprised to find Lefty +Williams pitching to batters. He faced Williams and hit the first ball +hard and straight over second base. Williams was lobbing the ball +easily, as if warming up. Twice Clancy called to him to quit pitching +to batters, and he shouted back that his shoulder felt a little stiff +and he wanted to limber it up easily. McCarthy stepped to the plate +again. Up to that time Williams had not pitched a fast ball, but he +wound up quickly and flashed a fast-breaking ball straight at +McCarthy's head. The third baseman dropped flat and the ball, just +grazing the top of his head, carried away his cap. He knew Williams +had tried to hit him. He remembered his part in the deeper game he and +Swanson were playing, and he decided not to reveal the fact that he was +aware of Williams's intent. He leaped back into batters' position and +yelled: + +"Keep that bean ball for the game. You'll need it." + +He saw that Williams was white and shaken, and the next ball came +floating over the plate without speed. McCarthy swung at it, without +attempting to hit it. Another slow one floated over the plate and +again McCarthy made a burlesque swing, missing the ball a foot. +Williams flushed scarlet and stepping quickly back into position he +drove a straight fast ball at the batter. McCarthy was on his guard. +Drawing back slightly he allowed the ball to touch his shirt, and when +Williams, angrier than ever, hurled another fast one at him he stepped +back and drove it to left field for a clean hit. + +As he hit the ball he heard Clancy call angrily to Williams to come off +the slab, and the pitcher, white with anger at the contempt the recruit +had shown for his pitching, sullenly obeyed. + +"That fellow tried three times to bean you," said Swanson in low tones +as they walked to their positions after retiring runless in the first +inning. + +"I know it," said McCarthy. "I coaxed him along. I think we can make +him pitch to-day by telling him that we don't think he can." + +The plan was adopted. For two innings the shortstop and third baseman +harassed the pitcher. + +Under the running fire of taunts, criticisms and sarcasm Williams +pitched harder and harder, furious at his teammates, and venting his +anger upon opposing batsmen. + +"Say, you guys," remarked Kennedy on the bench after the fourth inning. +"Have some pity on me. You've got Adonis so mad he's smashing my mitt +with his speed. Better ease off on him or you'll have him in the air." + +The Bears had accumulated two runs and seemed winning easily in the +fifth, when, before a runner was out, McCarthy, cutting across in front +of Swanson to scoop an easy-bounding ball, played it too carelessly, +fumbled and allowed the first batter to reach first base. The error +was common enough, but allowing the first batter to reach a base on an +easy chance was serious at that stage of the game. Williams turned +upon McCarthy and gave him a violent rebuke. McCarthy was not in a +position to respond. He saw that, in spite of his angry words, +Williams seemed pleased by the error. An instant later a drive whizzed +past him and then another screamed by him en route to left field. A +run was across the plate, runners on first and third and no one out. + +"Trying to toss off this one?" demanded Swanson angrily. "You big +stiff, pitch ball." + +The next batter sacrificed, and again Williams broke the ball low and +inside the plate to a right-handed hitter. The ball came like a shot +at McCarthy, who dived at it. It rolled away toward Swanson, who +recovered just in time to throw out the runner at first, but another +run had counted and the score was tied. Another hit screeched past +McCarthy, another run counted and the Travelers were one run ahead +before the attack could be stopped. + +The Travelers held their advantage to the eighth, when, rallying +desperately, the Bears drove home two runs by sheer force of hitting +and the ninth found them hanging to a one-run lead. They failed to +increase their advantage in the first half of the inning and took the +field determined to hold their lead. McCarthy was puzzled. He thought +Clancy knew what was happening on the field and had expected each +inning that the manager would rebuke Williams when they returned to the +bench. Instead Clancy had remained strangely silent. + +Tuttle, the first batter for the Travelers in the ninth inning, hit a +fierce bounder down the third-base line. McCarthy, knowing Tuttle to +be a right field hitter, was swung a little wide from the base. He +threw himself out toward the line, his hands extended to the full +limit, and the ball stuck in one outstretched hand. Scrambling to his +feet he threw hard and fast to first, retiring the speedy runner by a +step. The next batter hit fiercely between third and short and +Swanson, by a great play, retrieved the ball back on the edge of the +grass, but could not throw the runner out. The next batter, a +right-hander, hit a vicious single past McCarthy and there were runners +on second and first. + +McCarthy felt the next drive would be toward him. He believed Williams +was striving to lose the game, and that he was pitching so as to compel +the batters to hit in the direction of third base so that the baseman +and not he would be held responsible for the defeat. He gritted his +teeth and crouched, waiting, as Watson, the heaviest-hitting +right-handed batter in the league, faced Williams. Crouching, he saw +Kennedy signal for a fast ball high and outside the plate, and then saw +a straight easy ball sail toward the batter, low and inside. Watson +swung. McCarthy saw a flash of light and threw up his hands just in +time to keep the ball from hitting him. The ball broke through his +hands and rolled a few feet away. His hands were numb to the wrists +from the terrific shock. He stood still one trice. Then he saw the +runners were stopped, bewildered. They had lost sight of the ball, so +rapidly had it traveled and had stopped, thinking he had caught it. He +leaped after the ball, framing the play as he touched the spinning +sphere. He could have run back to third base and forced out one, but +instead, as his numbed fingers gripped the sphere, he saw the +possibility of a double play and threw fast and straight to Swanson, on +second base, forcing out the runner coming from first. Swanson, +catching the idea of the play in an instant, hurled the ball back to +McCarthy, who grabbed it and touched out the runner coming from second, +completing a double play that brought the crowd to its feet in applause +and saved the game. + +McCarthy heard the cheers, but he was cold with suppressed anger as he +walked to where Williams was standing, and said: + +"Williams, you're a d----d crook." + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +_"Technicalities" on the Job_ + +The Bears were going home holding grimly to their claim upon first +place in the league race. With but seven games remaining to be played +all were against clubs already beaten, and five of the seven were +against clubs considerably weaker in every department. Two games were +to be played off the home grounds. + +The statisticians were busy calculating that the Bears had a decided +advantage in the race, yet they were not happy in the homecoming. The +ride home was only a few hours long, and they had caught the train +immediately after the sensational finish of the final game with the +Travelers in order to reach home and get settled by midnight. + +Swanson and McCarthy sat together as the train pulled out, talking in +low tones. + +"I think Clancy is onto him," said Swanson. "Just sit tight. It isn't +our move yet. The Boss acted queerly on the bench to-day and has been +watching Williams all the time, while pretending not to. I'm going to +mingle and see if any of the other fellows are wise to him." + +Hardly had Swanson left the seat than McCarthy was surprised by +"Technicalities" Feehan, who sat down in the seat vacated by the +shortstop. + +Feehan was one of the odd characters developed by the national game, a +reporter who had traveled with the Bear teams for so many years the +players regarded him as a sort of venerable pest who hadn't seen a ball +player since Williamson's day, and never such a catcher as Mike Kelly, +a first baseman like Comisky or a fielder like Tip O'Neil. He +sometimes was called "Four Eyes," from the fact that he wore large, +steel-rimmed glasses of great thickness, and his other name was +"Technicalities." + +He was not at all interested in baseball, excepting as a business. His +chief interest was in the Children's Crusades, and he had spent eight +years of his spare time in libraries all over America digging out data +for his history of those remarkable pilgrimages which he had written +and rewritten half a dozen times. Not being a baseball fan he was +eminently fair and unprejudiced, and the players thought more of the +quiet, studious fellow than they did of the excitable and the partisan +reporters who joined their sports and their woes. + +"Mr. McCarthy," he said seriously, "did you observe anything strange in +to-day's game?" + +"Several strange things," assented McCarthy. "Among them that error I +made early in the game." + +"I mean things of an unusual nature," persisted Technicalities. "I was +struck by an odd phenomenon and thought perhaps you noticed it. I find +it more perplexing as I study my score books." + +"What was it?" inquired McCarthy, cautious not to betray any interest. + +"Did you, for instance, observe anything strange about the hits in your +direction?" + +"I noticed that those that didn't have cayenne pepper on them were +white hot and came like greased lightning," laughed McCarthy. "I +expected to find my right leg playing left field any minute." + +"I was speaking numerically, although, of course, the speed of the hits +enters into the phenomenon." + +"They did seem to be coming my way rapidly," agreed the third baseman. + +"In to-day's game I find," continued the statistician, "that there were +eighteen batted balls hit in the direction of third base. You had five +assists and one error and caught two line drives. I do not include +foul balls, of which six line drives went near third base. Of these +eighteen batted balls, fourteen were hit by right-handed batters and +four by left-handers. The fourteen right-handed batters hit balls +pitched inside the plate, the four left-handers hit balls outside the +plate, that is, outside to them, so that practically every ball batted +toward you was pitched to the inside of the plate, that is, the +catcher's left. I have checked these statistics and find them correct." + +"Well, what of it?" asked McCarthy. + +"In the preceding games--in which you played third and in which +Williams has pitched--I find that an average of twelve and a fraction +batted balls per game have been hit toward third base, exclusive of +fouls. In the games in which you have played and in which Williams has +not pitched the average is six and a trifling fraction. You have +averaged seven and one-fourth chances per game--legitimate +chances--with Williams pitching, and a trifle under three chances per +game when he was not pitching. Does it not seem remarkable?" + +"Perhaps so," assented McCarthy. "I never studied such statistics." + +"The phenomenon is the more remarkable," added the strange little man, +"because the average chances per game of the third basemen of five +leagues, two majors and three Class AA for the last five years has been +2 and 877-998. It is impossible to construe the figures to mean but +one of two things." + +"What are they?" asked McCarthy, curiously interested. + +"Either it is mere coincidence or Williams is deliberately trying to +lose this pennant and to make you shoulder the blame." + +"That's a pretty stiff charge," remarked McCarthy, amazed at the +deductions of the reporter, which fitted so well the suspicion, +gradually becoming a certainty to his mind. + +"Either he is pitching purposely to make the opposing batters hit balls +at you," insisted Feehan, "or it just happened--and things do not just +happen in baseball with that regularity." + +"Possibly he is wild and can't get the ball over the plate." + +"On the contrary," persisted Feehan, "he has perfect control. If he +did not possess control he could not pitch so many balls to the same +place." + +"I'm immensely grateful," said McCarthy, touched by the kindness of the +odd reporter. "It's good of you and I shan't forget it." + +"I deserve no thanks," insisted Feehan. "It's merely in the line of +square dealing and justice--and, speaking of justice, McCarthy, did you +ever take interest in the Children's Crusades? Let me show you some of +the data I dug up recently"---- + +He delved into his little bag, which was his constant companion, and, +drawing forth a mass of scattered, disordered notes, he went into +raptures of enthusiasm while describing to the player some new features +of the disappearance of the French children and of the sojourn of +hundreds of them as slaves in African harems. + +A great throng of admirers was waiting in the station to welcome the +Bears back from their successful trip. Swanson and McCarthy finally +escaped from the crowd, and, jumping into a taxicab, were whirled to +the hotel, where Swanson had secured rooms for both. + +The hour was growing late, but after they had deposited their baggage +in their rooms, Swanson proposed a walk and a late supper. It was +McCarthy's first visit to the city which he represented upon the ball +field and its magnificence and greatness made him forget the worries +and troubles of which he seemed the center. He even forgot to detail +to his chum his strange interview with the reporter until they were +seated in a quiet nook of one of the great restaurants. Then, in +response to some jesting allusion to the Children's Crusades by +Swanson, he told the big shortstop of the array of statistics Feehan +had presented. + +"He's a square little guy," said Swanson. "And he's got more brains in +that funny-looking little head of his than this whole bunch has. He +dopes things out pretty nearly right, and when he is convinced that he +is right he goes the limit. Between us there is a certain left-handed +pitcher who is in hot water right now and don't know it. Speaking of +the devil," he added quickly, "there's his wings flapping, and look who +he is with--across the far corner there, at the little table." + +McCarthy's eyes followed the route indicated and suddenly he lost +interest in his food. At a small table were Williams, Secretary +Tabor--and Betty Tabor. + +McCarthy was silent and moody during the walk back to the hotel and +seemed to have lost interest in the great glaring city, which was just +commencing to dim its illumination for the night. They were in bed +with the lights out when Swanson said: + +"Cut out the worrying, kid. I wouldn't have a girl no one else wanted. +Besides, either her father has been told by Clancy to watch that crook +or else Betty Tabor is stringing him along to learn something. She +despises Williams, and she wouldn't laugh at him or eat with him unless +she had a purpose in it." + +McCarthy could have blessed him for the words, but he assumed a dignity +he did not feel and said: + +"I don't see why I should be especially interested." + +"Cut out the con stuff, Bo," laughed Swanson, relapsing into his old +careless baseball phraseology. "You dope around like a chicken with +the pip and look at her like a seasick guy seeing the Statue of Liberty +and then think no one is onto you." + +Reply seemed inadvisable, so McCarthy grunted and rolled over. There +was a silence and then Swanson added: + +"And say, Bo, this Williams is in trouble. There's me and you on his +track. Clancy is wise and watching him. Old Technicalities has him +doped crooked in the figures, and now Betty Tabor is smiling at him to +get the facts--he hasn't a chance. It's darn hard to fix a baseball +game." + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +_Baldwin Baits a Trap_ + +"Willie says that one petticoat will ruin the best ball club that ever +lived, but lands knows that if some of us women don't get busy right +away there's one ball club that's goin' to be ruined without any +rustlin' skirts to be blamed." + +Mrs. William Clancy, her ample form loosely enveloped in a huge, +flowered kimono, dropped her fancy work into her lap and fanned herself +with a folded newspaper. + +"Why, Mother Clancy," ejaculated Betty Tabor, sitting on a stool by the +window of the Clancy apartment, "one would think to hear you talk that +we had lost the pennant already." + +"Now, there's Willie," continued Mrs. Clancy, ignoring the protest, +"goin' round with a grouch on all the time like he could bite nails in +two. There's that nice McCarthy boy frettin' his heart out because you +haven't treated him nicely, and Swanson worryin' about something. And +there's Williams sneakin' round like he'd been caught robbin' a hen +roost." + +"Mother Clancy," protested the girl, reddening, "you have no right to +say I haven't been treating Mr. McCarthy well. A girl cannot throw +herself at a man--especially an engaged man." + +"How do you know he's engaged?" demanded Mrs. Clancy. "Lands sakes, I +haven't heard him announcing his engagement, and he looks at you across +the dining room as sad as a calf chewing a dish rag." + +"I overheard--I saw the girl," admitted Betty Tabor, blushing as she +bowed her pretty head over her work. "She was telling him she wouldn't +marry him if he continued to play ball--besides, Mr. Williams met her +uncle, and he said they were engaged." + +"Is she pretty?" demanded Mrs. Clancy. + +"Beautiful," admitted Miss Tabor. "She's tall and fair and graceful, +and she had on such a wonderful gown all trimmed"---- + +"It looks to me," interrupted Mrs. Clancy, cutting off the description +of the dressmaking details heartlessly, "as if someone was just +jealous." + +"Why, Mother Clancy," said the girl, shocked and red, "you must think +me perfectly frightful to believe I'd act that way." + +"Oh, girls your age are all fools," said Mrs. Clancy complacently. "I +reckon I was myself at your age. Why, if Willie even spoke to another +girl I'd go out and hunt up two beaux just to show him I didn't care. +You went out with Williams when we came in last night, didn't you?" + +"Yes; he asked papa and me to late supper," the girl admitted. "But it +really wasn't what you think. I wanted to find out something from +him--something that's been worrying me." + +"Did you find out?" asked the older woman skeptically. + +"I don't know, Mother Clancy." The girl's face grew troubled. "I'm +worried. I know Mr. Williams hasn't any money. Papa says he is so +reckless he always is in debt, and lately, whenever he talks to me, he +talks about the big sums he's going to have. I asked papa what it was, +and he only grunted." + +"He'd better pitch a lot better than he has been if he's counting on +any of that world's series money," remarked Mrs. Clancy savagely. +"McCarthy saved yesterday's game twice." + +"You think Mr. Williams didn't want to win the game?" The girl's voice +was tense with anxiety. + +"I hate to say it--but it looked that way." + +"Oh, Mother Clancy, I haven't dared to say a word to anyone about it," +said the girl hesitatingly, "but I've been afraid for days. He said +something to me that almost frightened me. He hinted that Mr. McCarthy +was losing games on purpose. I didn't believe it--and somehow I got +the idea Mr. Williams was betting on the Panthers." + +"Now, you just keep your mouth shut about this," replied Mrs. Clancy, +pressing her lips together determinedly. "I've had that same idea, and +I think that's what's worryin' Willie. You just lead that fellow on to +talk and I'll put a bug in Willie's ear. Only," she added, "Willie is +likely to snap my head off for buttin' into his business. He's got to +know, though." + +Clancy came into the apartment soon afterward and Betty Tabor, making a +hasty excuse, gathered up her fancy work. + +"It's going to rain," remarked Clancy resignedly. "I think the game +will be called off. If the game's off, I've got tickets to a theatre, +and you and mother and I can go. Which one of the boys shall I ask to +go with us?" + +"If you don't mind," replied Betty Tabor steadily, "ask Mr. Williams." + +The rain came down steadily and before one o'clock the contest was +called off. The postponement was believed to lessen slightly the +chances of the Bears to win the pennant, and they lounged dismally +around the hotel, watching the bulletin board record the fact that the +Panthers were winning easily, giving them the lead in the race by a +small fraction in percentage. + +Manager Clancy, his wife and Betty Tabor, with Williams rode away in a +taxicab to the theatre. McCarthy declined Swanson's proposal to play +billiards, and, going to their rooms, he commenced to read. Presently +five of the players trooped in, led by Swanson, to play poker, and, +shoving McCarthy's bed aside, ignoring his protests, they dragged out +chairs and tables and started the game. Scarcely had they started when +the telephone bell rang and Swanson answered: + +"No, he's not up here," he said. "No. Who wants him? All right, put +them on. Hello! Who is this? Oh, all right. No, Williams isn't +here. Yes, I'm sure. He went out with the manager an hour ago--to a +theatre, I think. All right. I'll tell him." + +"Fellows," he said, as he hung up the receiver, "some friends want +Williams to meet them as soon as he can. He'll know where. Fellow +says it's important." + +He glanced meaningly at McCarthy, who nodded to show that he +understood, and as he sat down he remarked: + +"Kohinoor, I guess it's up to us to go to a show or something to-night." + +"All right," replied McCarthy, striving vainly to continue his reading, +while puzzling over the fresh development. + +At that same instant there was an acrimonious conversation in progress +in the room from which the telephone summons for Williams had just +come. Easy Ed Edwards hung up after his brief talk with the player at +the other end of the line, an ugly gleam in his cold eyes. + +"He isn't there," he reported to Barney Baldwin, who was sitting by the +table, jangling the ice in a high-ball glass. "Either he's trying to +cross us or he's playing wise and keeping his stand-in with the +manager." + +"Sure he isn't trying to cross us?" asked Baldwin. "He won yesterday's +game instead of losing as he agreed to do." + +"He tried hard enough to lose it," sneered the gambler. "He tossed up +the ball and those dubs couldn't beat him. I tell you you've got to +handle that red-headed kid at third base as you promised you would. He +saved that game twice. We've got to get rid of him." + +"He's stubborn," snarled Baldwin. "I tried to get him to quit the team +and go back home. He's as bull-headed as his uncle, and that's the +limit." + +"You know who he is?" queried the gambler in surprise. "Why don't you +tell the newspaper boys and show him up. That would finish him. He's +under cover with his identity, and if we can prove he hasn't any right +to play with the Bears they'll have to throw out the games he's won." + +"That's just the trouble," replied Baldwin bitterly. "He's straight as +a string. He never played ball except at college. We can't tell who +he is because that would prove he's all right and make him stronger +than ever." + +"Who is he?" inquired the gambler. + +"He's the nephew of old Jim Lawrence, of Oregon, one of the richest men +out there. Lawrence is his guardian. They had some sort of a run-in +and the boy left." + +"How do you know these things?" demanded the gambler. + +"The boy and my niece were sweethearts at home. I coaxed her to tell +me when I discovered she knew him. They were engaged once, I +understand, but it was broken off." + +"Then," said Edwards determinedly, "get your niece on the job. If +anyone can handle that fellow a woman can." + +"Oh, I say," protested Baldwin, with a show of indignation, "I can't +ask her to get into anything like this." + +"She probably was willing enough to get into it until she thought the +boy didn't have any money," replied Edwards coldly. "I don't want the +girl to do anything wrong. Just get her to make up with this McCarthy, +or whatever his name is, and get him away from this ball team for a +week. Baldwin, this is getting to be a serious matter with me, and +with you, too, if you want to hold your political power." + +"All right, all right," said Baldwin hastily. "Maybe I can persuade +the girl to help us out. I'll try." + +"You'd better succeed--if you want to send your man to the Senate," +said Edwards threateningly. + +"I'll go right away," assented the politician. + +Baldwin arose leisurely, went down to his limousine that was waiting +and ordered the man to drive home, although it was his custom to remain +downtown until late. At home he sent at once for his niece, and, after +a brief talk, during which he was careful to hint that McCarthy had +made overtures toward reconciliation with his uncle, the girl went to +the telephone. + +McCarthy, summoned to the telephone, talked for a few moments and, as +the poker game broke up, he called Swanson aside and said: + +"You'll have to go alone to-night. I've got to make a call." + +"Who is she?" asked Swanson insinuatingly. + +"Barney Baldwin's niece--and at his house." + +"Run on, Kohinoor," said the big shortstop. "I'll take Kennedy with me +and if I'm not mistaken you'll find out more than I will." + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +_McCarthy Makes a Call_ + +It was a little past seven o'clock, when McCarthy, arrayed in what +Swanson referred to as his "joy rags," which had been rescued from +impound in an express office after his first renewal of prosperity, +came out of the hotel. He was undecided, wavering as to whether or not +it was wise for him to keep the appointment to call on Helen Baldwin. + +They had met during his college career, and, after a courtship that was +a whirlwind of impetuosity on his side, she had agreed to marry him. +He recalled now, with rather bitter recollections of his own blindness, +her seemingly careless curiosity regarding the extent of the Lawrence +wealth and his own expectations. He had told her how, when his father +had died, Jim Lawrence had taken him to rear as his own child and heir. + +The boy had grown older and broadened with his short experience in the +world outside the protecting circle that had been round him in +preparatory school and in college, and he determined to write that +night to his guardian the letter he had so long delayed and to +apologize and admit that he had been headstrong and foolish. + +During the long ride uptown to the city residence of the Baldwins he +had time to think clearly. He knew that Barney Baldwin was wealthy, +but he was unprepared for the magnificence of the garish house, set +down amid wide lawns in the most exclusive part of the River Drive +section. + +Helen Baldwin entered the room in a few moments, and McCarthy gazed at +her in admiring surprise. + +She came forward with both hands outstretched, smiling, a strangely +transformed girl from the cold, half-scornful one with whom he had +parted only a short time before. + +"I wanted to see you so much, Larry," she said. "I have been so blue +and depressed since I--since we--since we last met. Why didn't you +call?" + +"I only reached the city last night," he replied as he took a seat +beside her on a divan. "And--well, Helen, I hardly thought you would +wish to see me." + +"You foolish boy," she chided. "Don't you know yet that you must never +take a girl at her word? Of course, I was annoyed to find you playing +baseball with a professional team, but I didn't mean we never were to +meet again." + +"I thought your ultimatum settled all that," he answered, ill at ease. +"It was rather a shock to find that you cared more for what I was than +for what I am." + +"You know, Larry, that you placed me in a painful position. It isn't +as if I were a rich girl, able to share with the man I love. My father +and mother are not rich, and Uncle Barney has supplied me with +everything. He has spoiled me--and I would make a wretched wife for a +poor man." + +"I would not have proposed marriage," said McCarthy quietly, "unless I +had thought I would be able to provide for you as well as your uncle +could. When circumstances were changed I could not ask you to +sacrifice yourself unless you were willing--unless you cared enough for +me to adapt yourself to the circumstances." + +"But, Larry, aren't you going to quit all this foolishness and go back? +Haven't you been reconciled with Mr. Lawrence?" she asked in surprise. + +"I expect to go back after the season is over and tell him how sorry I +am that I caused him trouble." + +"Please go, Larry. You'll go to please me, won't you?" she said +appealingly. + +"I cannot see why it would please you to have me quit now, when I'm +most needed," he replied stiffly. "Surely you cannot know what you are +asking." + +"It is such a little thing I ask," she pouted, "I'm sure you would if +you loved me." + +The girl's eyes were filling. She had found him easy to handle by that +appeal only a few short months before, but now, as he saw her, he was +seized with a desire to laugh, as he realized that she was acting. The +words of Swanson: "You'll find out more than we will," flashed into his +mind, and he determined to meet acting with acting. + +"Perhaps, Helen," he said softly, "if you could explain just why you +want me to quit playing I could see my way to do it." + +"That is being a sensible boy," she said, bathing her eyes with a bit +of lace. "I don't like to see you making an exhibition of yourself +before a crowd--for money." She shrugged her beautiful shoulders +disdainfully. + +"Is that all?" he asked quietly. + +"All? Isn't it enough? And then there's Mr. Lawrence. I know he is +worrying about you." + +"Any other reasons?" he inquired. + +"Then there's Uncle Barney"---- + +"What has Barney Baldwin to do with it?" His voice was sharp, and the +girl hesitated under his steady scrutiny. + +"You mustn't speak that way of my uncle," she said reprovingly. "I'm +sure he's only interested in you because of me. He says it is +imperative that you do not play any more with the Bears." + +"Then Barney Baldwin ordered you to telephone for me to come here?" he +asked harshly. + +"He merely wanted me to persuade you to quit that ridiculous game and +go back to Mr. Lawrence right away. He was only trying to save you." + +For an instant he sat staring at the girl steadily. Then he said +slowly: + +"What a fool I've been." + +"Oh, Larry, Larry!" she exclaimed, frightened by his manner. "What's +the matter--is anything wrong?" + +"Nothing wrong," he said, laughing mirthlessly. "Nothing wrong. You +may tell your uncle, with my compliments, that I will continue to play +with the Bears to the end of the season, and that, in spite of him and +his dirty work we will win that pennant." + +He arose and passed into the hall without a backward glance, ignoring +the sobs of the girl, who buried her face in her handkerchief and wept +gracefully, telling him between sobs that he was cruel. He took his +hat from the servant and strode rapidly down the steps, his mind a +turmoil of emotions. + +How far did the plot to beat the Bears out of the pennant extend? How +many were in it? Gradually he commenced to draw connected thoughts +from the chaos of his brain. He realized that he was the storm center +of a plot and that he was dealing with dangerous enemies. + +The girl he had left so abruptly continued her stifled, stagey sobs +until she heard the front door close. Then she sat up quickly, glanced +at her features in a wall mirror, brushed back a lock of ruffled hair +and rubbed her eyes lightly with her kerchief. + +"How he has changed," she said to herself. "He is getting masterful, +and three months ago one pout was enough. I could almost love +him--even without old Jim Lawrence's money. + +"At any rate," she said, looking at the handsome solitaire on her +finger, "I can keep the ring. He never mentioned it. I must go tell +Uncle Barney." + +She ran lightly up the stairs to the den where Baldwin, smoking +impatiently, was waiting for her. + +"Well?" he inquired. "Did you land him?" + +"Don't speak so vulgarly, Uncle Barney," the girl replied. "No, I did +not. He has grown stubborn. He told me to tell you he intended to +keep on playing to the end of the season, and that they would win--I've +forgotten what he said they would win. Does it make much difference, +just these few more games?" + +"Does it make any difference?" he stormed. "Any difference--why, you +fool, my whole political future may be ruined by that red-headed idiot. +Get out of here. I'm going to telephone." + +The girl, weeping in earnest now, hurried from the room as Barney +Baldwin seized the telephone. A moment later he was saying: + +"Hello, Ed. She fell down. He's stubborn and says he'll keep on +playing. You'd better see your man and break that story in the +newspaper. What? They got him? Where? Well, then, they've got the +wrong man. McCarthy left my house not five minutes ago." + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + +_The Fight in the Cafe_ + +Swanson left the hotel intending to pursue his volunteer detective work +only a few moments after McCarthy started uptown to respond to the +invitation of Miss Baldwin. He had remained lounging around the lobby +talking with Kennedy, the big catcher, until he saw Williams leave the +hotel by a side entrance and enter a street car. Then he signaled +Kennedy and they strolled out together and caught the next car. + +"It's Williams we're going to trail," was the only hint Swanson would +give at the start. + +"Williams?" snorted Kennedy. "You told me there was a chance for a +scrap. That guy won't fight." + +"Maybe those he's going to see will," replied Swanson encouragingly. + +Swanson did not know then that, only a short time before he made his +arrangement with Kennedy, Williams had pleaded over the telephone to +Edwards that he was afraid to meet him that evening, as requested, +because he thought Clancy might discover the fact and that Clancy was +already suspicious. Williams pretended alarm and convinced Edwards +that there was danger of someone following the pitcher, and on his way +to keep the appointment to meet the athlete he had drawn into the toils +of the conspiracy, he stopped at his gambling room and ordered Jack, a +big ex-prizefighter, to follow him to the meeting place and to keep +watch during the conference. + +It was growing dark when Edwards strolled slowly across town toward the +rendezvous. Williams's fear of being upbraided when he met the gambler +on that evening was unfounded. The gambler was convinced that the +pitcher had made every effort to lose the game and that he had been +balked only by luck and the fielding of McCarthy. He wanted to learn +from Williams whether or not there was any other player on the team who +could be bribed into assisting in the plot. + +Swanson and Kennedy trailing cautiously saw Williams jump off the car +and walk along the sidewalk, and, after riding past him, they descended +and walked along the opposite side of the street, keeping close in the +shadows of the tall buildings. A block further downtown they saw +Williams stop, look around suspiciously as if to see whether or not +anyone was following him, then turn up the side street and enter a +cafe. Swanson quickly led the way. They passed the saloon on the +opposite side of the street, and after walking half a block they +retraced their steps and stopped in a doorway opposite the entrance. + +"Let's wait here and see who goes in," suggested Swanson. + +"Whom do you expect him to meet?" inquired Kennedy. + +"Edwards," vouchsafed Swanson grudgingly. "He has been meeting that +crook for ten days now, and I want to find out what they're up to." + +"Why didn't you tell me before?" demanded Kennedy. "I'd kick his head +off"---- + +"We hadn't the goods on him," explained Swanson. "That's what I want +you for. If we can prove he's up to some crooked work"---- + +The big Swede menacingly folded his ponderous paw into a fist and +flexed his biceps. + +"Do you think he's trying to throw games? He's been pitching funny +ball lately," asked Kennedy. "I've had to fight him in every game to +get him to pitch fast." + +"What I think and what I can prove are different things," growled the +shortstop. "I've got my suspicions. Now we're after proof. Come on. +If he was to meet anyone there the one he was to meet is in ahead of +him." + +The players walked to the corner, crossed the street and went into the +saloon without an effort at concealment. The place appeared empty, +save for a bartender who was washing glasses behind the bar, and a +heavy, coarse-featured man lounging near the end of the bar with a +half-consumed high ball before him. + +"Gimme a beer," ordered Swanson, throwing a coin onto the bar; "what +you have, Ben?" + +"Make it two," replied Kennedy. + +There was no sign of Williams, and only a narrow doorway, leading +somewhere toward the rear, gave a clue as to his probable egress from +the barroom. + +The bartender, having rung up the amount of the sale on the cash +register, exchanged a few words in a low tone with the man at the end. +Then he strolled back and stood near where Swanson and Kennedy were +wasting time over their drinks. + +"We were expecting to meet a friend here to-night," remarked Swanson, +deciding to take a new tack with the bartender. "Rather tall, slender +young fellow. Has anyone been in?" + +"Young fellow came in a while ago something like that," replied the +bartender. "Seemed to be expecting someone, but turned around and went +out. Maybe that was him." + +They knew he was lying, and Swanson, without changing expression, said: + +"Must have thought he was in the wrong place, or too early. Maybe +he'll come back. We'll stick around awhile." + +Had they known what was transpiring in the private room just beyond the +doorway their interest would have been greater. The big man who had +stood at the end of the bar had gone at the first opportunity and was +reporting to Easy Ed Edwards, who grew venomous with hate, while +Williams sat shaking with fright. + +"I knew they'd get on. If they report to Clancy I'm done for," he said. + +"Shut up," ordered the gambler angrily. "They haven't seen you and +they don't know I'm here. Who are they, Jack?" + +"I don't know dem," said the ex-fighter. "Dey's a big, husky lookin' +guy, a Dutchman, I guess, wid a blue suit"---- + +"It's Swanson," said Williams. "He's been looking at me as if he knew +something for two or three days. He has followed me here." + +"De oder one is a smaller, wiry sort o' guy. Got on a light suit"---- + +"It must be McCarthy," whined Williams. "He's always with Swanson. +They're looking for me. I wish I had kept out of this." + +"Listen," ordered Edwards coldly. "This fellow McCarthy is the one we +want. If we can get him out of the way it'll be easy and I can get +even with that big, fat lobster, Baldwin, for trying to double cross +me. Jack, you go out there and get in a mix-up with them and take a +poke at the little fellow that'll keep him from playing ball for a +week. Is the bartender a friend of yours?" + +"One of me best pals," replied the ex-fighter. "Leaf it to me. I'll +land de punch dat'll fix dat fresh, young guy." + +The fighter strolled back to the barroom and resumed his stand at the +end of the bar, eyeing the two ball players. As he tapped the bar the +bartender walked to him. + +"I'm goin' to start somethin'," said Jack in a low tone. "Ed wants me +to punch de head offen dat youngest one." + +"That big guy looks hard to handle," commented the bartender. "Make it +quick. I don't like no rough house here. The license ain't any too +safe now." + +"I'm going back to see what's there," whispered Kennedy to Swanson. +"You stick here. I'll bluff it through." + +He walked toward the door leading back from the bar and started to pass +through it. + +"Here, young feller," said the bartender, "where you goin'?" + +"Washroom," replied Kennedy, keeping on through the door. + +"Naw you don't. Come back outen there," ordered the fighter angrily. + +"Who appointed you boss?" asked Kennedy belligerently. + +"Well, I'm boss anywhere I goes," declared the big fellow. "Youse stay +outen there. D'ye hear?" + +He grabbed the ball player by the arm--and at that instant Kennedy +swung. His fist caught the bruiser squarely on the mouth and he reeled +back, then, with a bellow of rage, he sprang at Kennedy. + +With a roar of anger Swanson hurled himself into the fray. Kennedy's +fist had caught the ex-fighter and cut his cheek open and blood spurted +upon both as they fought, the frail partition swaying under their +weight. Swanson leaped with his arm drawn for a knock-out blow, just +as Jack's right caught Kennedy upon the jaw and dropped him to the +floor helpless. The blow the Swede had aimed at the fighter hit him +upon the shoulder and slid over his head, and Jack, whirling, faced his +new adversary. Swanson sprang to close quarters with the giant and his +fist thudded home. Jack, groggy and already half spent from his +exertions, clinched and hung on. The Swede, now a man gone mad with +the lust of battle, shook him off, hurled the giant backward against +the partition, and, crouching, he prepared to swing his right, waiting +for the opening to the jaw, while Jack, groggy and half dazed, covered +his head with his arms and swayed. The blow never landed. Suddenly it +seemed to Swanson as if the worlds were crashing around his head. +Bright stars danced before his eyes, his knees gave way beneath him, +and with a foolish laugh he sank to the floor and rolled, helpless, +beside his fallen comrade. His last recollection was of hearing a +telephone bell jangling somewhere. + +The ringing of the telephone bell that Swanson heard as he lapsed into +unconsciousness was the call of Barney Baldwin for Ed Edwards. The +gambler, who, with his frightened companion, had heard the sounds of +the terrific struggle in the barroom sink into silence, spoke rapidly +for an instant, then, as Baldwin said: "They've got the wrong man," he +hung up the receiver with an oath and leaped toward the doorway. He +emerged upon a tableau showing his slugger, half dazed and hanging to +the partition for support, two figures inert upon the floor and the +bartender coolly walking back toward the bar, carrying a heavy +bung-starter in his hand, that explained the sudden ending of the fight. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +_Two Missing Men_ + +The disappearance of Silent Swanson and Ben Kennedy brought +consternation to the ranks of the Bears, consternation that increased +as the hour for starting the first game of the series against the +Jackrabbits drew near. McCarthy, returning to the rooms after his +surprising interview with Helen Baldwin, was determined to tell his +chum all that had taken place and to explain as well as was possible +the position in which he found himself. He planned to urge Swanson to +go with him to Clancy, and for that reason he postponed taking the +manager into his confidence. + +He hastened downstairs to breakfast, half expecting to find his chum +waiting for him in the dining room with an account of the night's +events. He finished breakfast in a troubled state of mind, and, after +wandering around the lobby for nearly an hour in the vain hope that +Swanson would appear, he encountered Noisy Norton, who appeared +disturbed and distressed. + +"Say," said Norton, "seen Kennedy?" + +"No--seen Swanson?" + +"They went out together," said Norton, with an unusual burst of +conversation. + +"Didn't Kennedy come home either?" asked McCarthy in fresh alarm. + +"No." + +They sat silent for some time, then Noisy said: + +"Something wrong." + +"What'll we do?" asked McCarthy anxiously. + +"Tell Clancy," said Norton, with an effort. + +They ascended the elevator together and rapped at Clancy's door. + +"Mr. Clancy," said McCarthy, when the manager had bade them enter, "I +ought to have come to you before. Swanson and Kennedy are missing. +They didn't come in last night--and we're worried." + +"Where were they?" demanded the manager quickly. + +"I was going with Swanson on an errand last night," said McCarthy. "We +were working on that matter that caused trouble the other day. Then I +had a telephone call and went to see a--a friend of mine. Swanson said +he'd take Kennedy with him. They left the hotel together, Norton tells +me, and they haven't come home." + +"Either of them drinking?" asked Clancy sharply. + +"Beer--sometimes--not often," said Norton. + +"Swanson hasn't been drinking at all," declared McCarthy. "Neither of +them would go off on a tear at this stage of the game." + +"You're right, Kohinoor," said Clancy worriedly. "It's something else. +They'll show up, all right. Thank you for telling me, boys, and don't +say anything about it." + +In spite of their silence, however, the rumor that the star catcher and +the shortstop were missing spread through the team. By noon the +players were openly discussing the whereabouts of the two players. +Clancy showed his anxiety. + +"Can't you tell me where they were going, Kohinoor?" he asked. "I +don't want to press you to reveal anything you don't want to, but I'm +afraid those boys are in trouble." + +"I haven't any idea where they were going," replied McCarthy. "I know +that they were watching a certain fellow, and that a gambler named +Edwards was mixed up in it." + +"You've told me plenty," said the manager in low tones. "I have +suspected it all along. I'm afraid they're run afoul of Edwards and +that he has managed to get them into trouble." + +"If he has he has his nerve," said McCarthy. "Look over there. He +just came in with a party of friends. I know the big man." + +"Who is he?" inquired the manager, watching the party just entering one +of the field boxes. + +"That's Barney Baldwin, the political boss," explained McCarthy. + +"Is he in this thing, too?" inquired Clancy, starting with surprise. + +"Yes, at least I think so. You see, I know his niece. It was at his +house I went to call last night. I discovered that he ordered his +niece to call me and had her try to persuade me to quit the team right +away." + +"Look here, Kohinoor," said the manager, drawing him aside so the other +players could not hear, "I'm sorry you didn't tell me this before. It +looks worse and worse all the time. He wanted you to quit--and now two +of my men disappear. You'll have to play short to-day, and we'll send +Pardridge to third. Get in there and hustle." + +Smith, the big spitball pitcher of the Bears, who had been held in +reserve, was chosen to pitch, and for three innings the teams fought +for the opening without a real chance to score. The cunning of Clancy +was shown in his choice of the big pitcher, whose speed and spitball +kept the Jackrabbit batters hitting toward right field or sending slow, +easy bounders down toward the pitcher. He had chosen Smith in order to +protect the weakened third base side of the infield, and his plan +worked well until the fourth inning, when Egbert, one of the speediest +of the Jackrabbit sprinters, hit a spitball on top and sent a slow, +weak roller toward third base. Pardridge made a desperate effort to +field the ball, but fell short, and the Jackrabbits discovered the weak +place in the defense. Two bunts rolled down the third-base line in +succession, and, although Pardridge, playing close in a desperate +effort to stop that style of attack, managed to throw out the second +bunter, runners were on second and third with but one out when +"Buckthorne" Black smashed a long hit over center for three bases and +scored an instant later on a sharp, slashing hit through Noisy Norton. +The three runs seemed to spell the doom of the Bears, and they came in +from the field angry, hot and desperate. The roar of the crowd grew +stronger when the score board showed the Panthers were winning their +game--5 to 1--from the Blues. + +McCarthy was first at bat in that inning. As he selected his bat he +glanced toward the stand and grew hot with rage at seeing Baldwin +laughing until red in the face and slapping Ed Edwards on the back. +The gambler's usually stony face wore a smile of relief. McCarthy +walked to the plate, pushed the first ball pitched down the third-base +line and outsprinted the ball to first. Norton strove to bring him +home, but his long-line drive went straight to the left fielder, and +when Holleran struck out it seemed as if the chance to score was lost +for that inning. McCarthy stood still, a few feet off first base, and, +as Randall wound up to pitch, he started at top speed for second base. +Jackson, catching for the Jackrabbits, saw him, grabbed the ball and +leaped into position to throw. Like a flash McCarthy stopped and +danced a step or two back toward first base, as if daring the catcher +to throw the ball. Jackson pretended to throw to first, and, as +McCarthy edged a step closer the base the catcher saw there was no +chance to catch him, and slowly relaxing from throwing position, he +took a step forward and started to toss the ball back to his pitcher. +In that instant McCarthy acted. He leaped forward, and, before Jackson +could recover and spring back into throwing position, the fleet Bear +was nearing second base, making a beautifully executed delayed steal. +Jackson threw, although it was too late. The ball, hurled over +hastily, broke through the second baseman's hands and rolled twenty +feet toward center field. McCarthy turned second at full speed and +raced for third, while Reilly tore after the ball, and, picking it up, +made a fast, low throw toward third. Again the ball escaped the +baseman, and McCarthy, without the loss of a stride, turned third base +and raced home, sliding under Jackson as he reached for the high-thrown +ball. + +The game had settled down to a desperate series of attacks by the +Bears, and a stubborn defense on the part of the Jackrabbits. In the +sixth and again in the seventh the Bears forced the attack, but each +time they fell short of scoring, and the eighth inning came with the +score 3 to 1 against them. Lucas, who was catching in Kennedy's place, +opened that inning, and the Bears' hope arose when he, the weakest +hitter on the team, was hit by a pitched ball. Smith drove a hard +bounder toward first, but O'Meara knocked down the ball and reached the +base in time to retire the big, lumbering pitcher, letting Lucas reach +second. Jacobsen struck out, and McCarthy, gritting his teeth, came to +bat. One strike and one ball had been called when, looking toward the +bench for a signal from Clancy, he saw a sight that made his heart +jump. In that fleeting glance he had seen Swanson, in uniform, coming +onto the bench through the little doorway under the stands. + +Swanson's eye was black and a strip of plaster extended from under his +cap onto his forehead. His face was swollen and discolored and a +bandage covered his head, showing under his cap. + +If he only could get on first base, McCarthy told himself, there was +hope, and, as the ball sped toward him he poked out his bat, dropped +another bunt toward third base, and, by a terrific burst of speed he +beat it to first base, sending Lucas to third. + +"Swanson batting for Holleran. Swanson will play shortstop, McCarthy +third base, Pardridge in left field." + +McCarthy had determined to steal second base, but the chance never +presented. The first ball that came whizzing toward the plate Swanson +hit. It went like a rocket far out to left center field. Two speedy +outfielders glanced at the flying ball, then turned and sprinted for +the outer barriers. The ball soared on and on, and with a crash struck +against the sign over the left field seats and fell back into the +throng in the bleachers, and while the crowd cheered and groaned three +Bears trotted around the bases to the plate. + +Swanson, running slowly and painfully, crossed the plate, with the +score that put the Bears in the lead. He did not stop. Straight +toward the box where Edwards and Baldwin sat, he went. His face was +terrible. They saw him coming, and Baldwin, apologetic with fear, half +arose, as if to cry for help. The gambler, white but still keeping his +nerve, shrank back a trifle, but held his seat. Swanson walked +straight to them. For an instant he towered over them threateningly, +then he said: + +"Good afternoon, gentlemen, I hope you're glad to see me." + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +_Swanson to the Rescue_ + +When Silent Swanson aroused himself from the effects of the blow on the +head from the beer mallet in the hands of the treacherous bartender, he +sat up feebly and found himself in semi-darkness. + +"Someone crowned me with a crowbar," he muttered to himself as his +brain gradually began to work normally. "They must have kicked me +after I went down." + +A faint groan from the heavy shadows near him startled him into a +realization of what had happened. He felt around for a moment and his +fingers touched the body of a man huddled against a wall. + +"It must be Ken--and he's hurt," he muttered, and crept toward his +companion. Swanson worked over him, shaking and speaking to him and +presently Kennedy stirred and sat up against the wall. + +"Where are we? What happened?" he inquired in a bewildered manner. + +"Search me," replied Swanson mournfully. "I was just getting ready to +swing the haymaker on that big fellow when the house fell. I think +someone beaned me from behind with a brick and then kicked us around. +Ouch--my ribs feel stoved in." + +"I'm sore all over," moaned Kennedy. "That fellow didn't do it all by +himself, did he?" + +"I have a dim recollection of hearing someone tell him to fix us +right," replied Swanson. "I may have dreamed it." + +"Let's get out of here," urged Swanson suddenly. "If some watchman +finds us here we'll be pinched, and it will make a nice story for the +reporters." + +"Where do you think we are?" asked Kennedy, striving to get to his feet +and groaning with every move. + +"In the alley back of the joint we were in," replied Swanson. "They +must have dragged us to the back door and dumped us." + +He had managed to get upon his feet, assisted Kennedy to arise, and +slowly and with many groans they went toward the mouth of the alley. + +"Let's go around to the front door and clean out that place," urged +Swanson, growing angry. + +Both men were commencing to recover from the effects of the cruel +treatment they had endured, and, as their injured muscles loosened +their anger arose. They made their way painfully around the block and +to the entrance of the saloon. It was locked and the place was in +total darkness. Swanson shook the barred doors without result, then +stood gazing blankly against the glass. + +"Say, Ken, we must have been knocked out for quite a while," he +remarked thoughtfully. "No one is here. They probably closed up as +soon as they threw us out--and we haven't a bit of proof against +anyone." + +"Wonder what time it is?" groaned Kennedy. "We've got to get to bed if +we want to play." + +"Holy Mackerel," exclaimed Swanson, using his favorite form of +swearing. "I forgot! That's it! Ken, after we were knocked out they +beat us to keep us from playing. Come on. We've got to forget about +fighting and get ready to play. I'll get even with someone for this." + +Swanson was thinking rapidly as they limped slowly along the darkened +streets in search of a night prowling cabman or taxi-cab, keeping a +sharp lookout for policemen, fearing they might be arrested because of +their battered condition. + +"We've got to get to somewhere we can be patched up and get some +sleep," he repeated, urging Kennedy, whose sufferings made their +progress slow. "We've got to keep those crooks from finding out where +we are. Let them think they've finished us and then show up in time to +play." + +"I don't think I can play, Silent," moaned Kennedy. "I can't drag +myself much farther." + +He was making a brave effort to keep on, and for another block Swanson +half supported him. Then he gave up and sat down upon the curbing. + +"Sit here," said Swanson quickly. "There is an all-night drug store a +couple of blocks down; I'll find a cab there." + +He limped away as rapidly as possible, and, almost before Kennedy +realized it, he returned in a taxicab. + +"Caught him just starting home," explained Swanson, as he half lifted +Kennedy into the tonneau. "He says there is a hospital less than a +mile from here where we can get treatment." + +The bruised and battered players groaned and swore under their breath, +while the cab made a rapid trip to the hospital, and half an hour later +they were resting easily in a private room, their wounds were being +washed and dressed and a young doctor was working hard to relieve their +sufferings. + +"We've got to play ball this afternoon, Doc," said Swanson, watching +the surgeon cut and wash the hair from the wound on his scalp. "Fix us +up right." + +"You'll not play ball this week," said the surgeon cheerfully. "Your +friend over there will be all right in a couple of days. He's badly +bruised and his hand is sprained, but not seriously. He's sorer than +you are, but by morning you'll be a cripple." + +"But, Doc, we've got to play," pleaded Swanson. "You've got to fix us +up." + +"I'll do all I can," remarked the surgeon. "But your right arm is +badly wrenched and bruised. The cuts won't hurt, but one of your eyes +will be out of commission for three or four days. Whose mule kicked +you?" + +Swanson, pledging the doctor to secrecy, revealed part of the truth. + +"You won't be able to play," he advised his patients, "and Kennedy must +take two days off at least." + +"I've got to play, Doc," responded Swanson, "if it's on one leg; I've +got to." + +It was a few minutes past noon when Swanson awoke with a start. The +nurse was in the room, moving about quietly, and Kennedy still slept, +moving and muttering in his sleep, as if dreaming of the battle. He +remained quiet for a few moments, and then said: + +"Nurse, please bring me my clothes." + +"You must wait until after breakfast," she said, coming to the bedside. +"Dr. Anderson was here a short time ago, and said I was to give you +your breakfast when you awoke, then call him." + +"But I'm in a hurry," protested the player. "I can't wait. They'll be +anxious about us." + +"The doctor said he would give you treatment and massage, so that you +could get out more quickly," she responded. "I'll bring breakfast and +then call him." + +Kennedy, feeling much refreshed, but too sore and stiff to move without +suffering, was awakened for breakfast, and he and Swanson discussed the +situation in low tones as they ate. + +It was past one o'clock before Swanson commenced to worry about the +failure of the doctor to come. After fuming and fretting for more than +half an hour he rang for the nurse and sent her in quest of Dr. +Anderson. She returned soon and reported that he had been summoned +suddenly to assist in performing an important operation, but that he +probably would return soon. Not until two o'clock had passed did +Swanson commence to become seriously disturbed at the failure of the +doctor to appear. A short nap had refreshed him somewhat, and when +Kennedy announced that it was past two o'clock he waited a few moments, +then commenced ringing the call bell by his bedside to summon the +nurse. There was no response, and growing angry and impatient, he rang +again and again. + +"If I only had a pair of pants," wailed the helpless giant, "I'd break +out." + +He climbed out of bed and searched the room. In his impatience he +bumped his wounded head, and blood flowed afresh from under the +bandages, and with a movement of his arm he smeared it over his face. +The giant Swede was working himself into a fury. Every few moments he +rang the bell, and a few moments before three o'clock the nurse, calm +and appearing as if nothing unusual was happening, came in. + +"Did you ring?" she inquired. + +Swanson started to explode, but stood looking at her in helpless fury. + +"Get me my clothes," he ordered in tones that frightened the girl, +trained as she was to the outbursts of patients. + +"Get me my clothes," he repeated. + +"It is against orders," she said hesitatingly. "You cannot go until +the doctor"---- + +"Get me my clothes," he half screamed. "If my clothes aren't here in +five minutes I'm going this way." + +The nurse, thoroughly alarmed by the fury of the big man, ran from the +room, and, within five minutes she returned with another nurse to +support her. + +"Where are my clothes?" he demanded in an awful voice. + +"It's against orders," said the older nurse firmly. "You cannot leave +without permission from the doctor in charge." + +For an instant it seemed as if Swanson would forget himself and become +violent. With an effort he controlled his anger and sank back upon the +pillows. + +"All right," he said resignedly, "let me telephone to the boss and +explain." + +"You are not going to quit, Silent?" demanded Kennedy, starting up in +bed. "I'll go myself"---- + +The quick wink that Swanson gave him stopped the catcher's angry +expostulation. + +"That's a good boy!" said the nurse pleasantly. "There isn't any use +to fret. I'll bring you the telephone." + +The telephone was brought, and, when the nurse left the room Swanson +called up the hotel at which they lived. + +"That you, Joe?" he said rapidly. "This is Silent--yes, in hospital. +Send a taxi to the corner as fast as you can get it here. I'll be +watching." + +He cut off the carriage clerk's curious questions by hanging up the +receiver. + +"What are you going to do?" whispered Kennedy from his bed. + +"I'm going out of here," said Swanson. He crept out of bed, and with +his face pressed against the window, watched the corner four floors +below until a taxicab stopped there and waited. Then, drawing a sheet +over his night gown, he opened the door cautiously. + +The receiving clerk had a glimpse of a ferocious looking ghost, garbed +in a white sheet, and with face smeared with blood, racing down the +hallway, and before her screams could bring help, Swanson had run +limpingly across the street, leaped into the taxi and was shouting +orders to the driver to get him to the ball park. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +_Hidden Foes_ + +The disappearance and dramatic reappearance of Swanson and Kennedy, who +was released from the hospital after the game, was the sensation of the +country for twelve hours; then it was paled into insignificance by a +new sensation that caused a wave of indignation and an insistent demand +for proof from all parts of the country and left the Bears dazed by the +series of events that crowded upon them. + +The second sensation was the printing of an article in one of the +foremost papers of their city in which the charge was made that one +member of the Bear team had been bribed; indeed, had been put on the +team with the sole end that he might throw games and force the +championship upon the Panthers. + +The article created a furore which caused the public to forget the +mysterious circumstances surrounding the disappearance of Swanson and +Kennedy. + +Although no name was mentioned, the facts set forth fitted only +McCarthy, the new third baseman, and rallied all the admirers of the +lithe red-headed boy to his side and set loose a storm of anger and +suspicion directed upon him by those who criticised his playing or +opposed him through prejudice. + +Manager Clancy, after an anxious evening and night trying to get at the +facts of the case of Swanson and Kennedy, and getting Kennedy out of +the hospital, was the first of the Bears to see the new attack. He +read the entire article from end to end, and going to his apartment he +telephoned for McCarthy, Swanson, Kennedy and Secretary Tabor to come +to his rooms at once. + +Manager Clancy was waiting, striding up and down the room restlessly +and as the three players entered, he unceremoniously shooed his wife +into the next room before she had a chance to defend her boys. + +"Fellows," said the manager quietly, "I sent for you because you seem +to know more what's going on than the others do. I suppose none of you +has read this article in this morning's paper. I'll read it to you." + +As he read, the players began to look one at the other and ejaculations +of surprise and anger came from them. When Clancy reached the portion +of the article telling of the player joining the Bears, McCarthy sprang +from his chair. + +"Why," he exclaimed, flushing angrily, "why, he means me." + +"It's a d----n shame," roared Swanson. "I'll wring his neck." + +"Let me finish," said Clancy, and completed the reading. At the end +the players broke into excited questions and threats and Clancy said: + +"Now, see here, boys; we're against a tough proposition. This article +is just part of it. I wanted to talk things over with you fellows. +I've sent for Technicalities, and want to find out a few things from +him. Now you fellows tell me all you know. By the way, you needn't +shy at using Williams's name. I'm not saying he's guilty, but I know +he's the one you have been watching." + +Detail by detail they described to the manager the events of the +preceding days. + +"Keep quiet about all that. The case is one we can't beat except on +the ball field. Every one of us is certain that Edwards has bribed +Williams and that he has lined up this big politician, Barney Baldwin, +and now they've dished up this story about McCarthy to try to drive him +out of the game. Are you game to stand what the crowd will do to you +to-day, Kohinoor?" + +"I'll play," replied McCarthy grimly. + +"Better stuff your ears with cotton if we're losing," advised the +manager. "This crowd will turn on you in a second and accuse you of +more than the paper did, if you make an error or two. It will be worse +if you stay out of the game. Then they'll think the story is true and +that I've laid you off for throwing games. I have a plan. I'm going +to act as if I believe McCarthy is trying to throw games." + +"Thanks," said McCarthy, gripping the manager's hand gratefully, just +as a knock sounded on the door and Technicalities Feehan entered. + +"I regret exceedingly my absence when you wanted me, Mr. Clancy," he +said. "I have just returned and have been reading this absurd article +reflecting upon the integrity of Mr. McCarthy." + +"What do you think of it?" asked Swanson. + +"Absurd. The figures prove directly the contrary. Let me read to you +some of my recent calculations"---- + +"Never mind--never mind," protested Clancy. "Save them for the paper. +What I wanted to find out is who is this fellow Barney Baldwin?" + +"Baldwin," said Feehan calmly, "is a politician, accused of much +crooked work. I do not know that he ever has been convicted"---- + +"Meantime," remarked Feehan calmly, "I shall attempt to discover the +relations existing between Mr. Edwards, the gamester, and this person +who wrote this attack. I shall have some statistics to show the +editor"---- + +"Never mind the statistics," said Clancy, cutting off Feehan before he +could bestride his hobby, "I want you to find out who was back of the +fellow who wrote that article; whether anyone bribed him to do it. I'm +beginning to think we are dealing with bigger men than Ed Edwards. + +"Now see here, fellows," he added frowning worriedly, "we're up against +the toughest proposition we ever tackled, but we can beat it. The best +way to beat them is to pretend we don't suspect a thing and let them +work out their own schemes"----"Hello, come in," he called in response +to a rap on the door. "Oh, it's you, Bannard! How are you? I'm just +having a little talk with the boys. How are things to-day?" + +He feigned an indifferent manner. + +"Pretty good, Bill. Team all right?" asked the president. "I heard +two of the boys got mixed up in a barroom scrap." + +"I was just warning them about that," said Clancy. "These are the two +(he pointed to Kennedy and Swanson). I was warning them that a lot of +tough mugs in this burg are likely to get excited over baseball these +days and ball players ought to stick close to the hotel." + +"Glad they're not much hurt," said Bannard easily, looking at the +battered athletes. "How is the pitching staff? By the way, who is +working to-day?" + +"It's Williams's turn," said Clancy steadily. "Why?" + +"Why, that's what I came to see about," replied the president frankly. +"That friend of mine--the one I spoke to you about the other day--wants +to see him pitch. I'm starting West at noon and I told him I'd ask you +as a favor. He was pretty sore because you didn't put him in the other +time I asked you." + +"All right. Always glad to oblige when possible," said Clancy grimly. + +"Why didn't you ask who his friend is?" inquired Swanson when Bannard +departed. + +"Bonehead, fool, slow thinker," said Clancy. "I ought to bench myself +for not thinking of it. I'll find out the first time I see him." + +The players laughed nervously and departed from the room. Scarcely had +McCarthy and Swanson reached their quarters when the telephone girl +called to tell McCarthy an important call had been coming in for half +an hour. + +"Very well, connect me," said McCarthy. + +He recognized Helen Baldwin's voice, and it shook with emotion, as she +made certain she was talking to him. + +"Oh, Larry," she said, "I must see you! I must--to-night, if possible! +Please come!" + +"What is the matter, Helen?" he asked anxiously. "It's impossible to +come to-night--and after the last"---- + +"I know, I know, Larry," she said rapidly. "Please, please forget all +that. I didn't understand! I didn't know! I've found out something +that showed me how bad and wicked I have been. I didn't mean to bring +harm to you"---- + +"Uncle came home," she said. "He'd been drinking. He made terrible +threats against you." + +"I'll be up to-night," said McCarthy. + +"Better look out--it's a trap," warned Swanson, who had heard McCarthy +promise to call that night. + +"There's something wrong up there," replied McCarthy. "I'm going to +Baldwin's house to-night." + +They went downstairs talking in low tones. On the parlor floor Betty +Tabor was sitting reading. She had scarcely spoken to McCarthy since +the day she had heard him in conversation with Helen Baldwin. +Impulsively she dropped her book and came toward him with her hand +outstretched. + +"Mr. McCarthy," she said rapidly, "I wanted to tell you--I do not +believe a word of these horrible things the paper says about you. It +is hateful! I told them they were false. I didn't think they'd dare +tell others"---- + +"Them?" inquired McCarthy. "Then you've heard this story before?" + +"Yes," she admitted. "I refused to listen--I knew there was not a word +of truth in the stories. I knew you were honest"---- + +"I thank you very much, Miss Tabor," he said quietly. "I shall not +need to ask who told you." + +"I only wanted you to know I believed in you," she said simply, and as +he looked into her eyes, she lowered them with a quick blush and +hastened to recover her book. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +_Fair Play_ + +Thirty thousand persons were packed into the big stands on the Bears' +Park, and ten thousand others camped in the outer field seats when the +teams ran out to play that day. + +A few loyalists applauded McCarthy as he trotted along with the other +players, but the ripple of applause died suddenly as if the friends he +had in the crowd feared to start a counterstorm of criticism and abuse. + +The great crowd was strangely quiet, although a hum of comment spread +through the stands when the Bears took the fielding practice and +Jacobson, the pitcher, practiced at third base, while McCarthy remained +near the stands idly warming up a recruit pitcher. The buzz arose to a +hum of excitement. Reporters, deserting the press box, swarmed down +under the stands and crowded to the entrance at the rear of the Bears' +bench, calling for Clancy, who went to speak with them. + +"Why isn't McCarthy in the game?" demanded the spokesman, who already +had written that McCarthy was suspended and out of the game. + +"He is in the game," replied Clancy innocently. "Why shouldn't he be?" + +For an instant the reporters stood undecided, then sprinted back to +their posts, to change what they had written and alter the line-up. + +Bill Tascott, the umpire, swaggered out to the plate, dusted the +rubber, while the megaphones announced the batteries, and, at that +instant McCarthy, jerking his glove from his belt, hurled his catcher's +mitt to the bench and trotted out to third base, as Jacobson walked +toward the bench. + +The little scattering applause that greeted him grew and grew until the +crowd applauded heartily and gave round after round of applause for the +third baseman. It was the American spirit of fair play and justice +revealing itself, and the crowd, accepting Manager Clancy's confidence +in his third baseman, rendered its verdict of not guilty in cheers. + +The Jackrabbits had figured cunningly that McCarthy would be unnerved +by the strain of the situation, and "Hooks" O'Leary, the manager, had +ordered that the attack be directed upon him. The first batter pushed +a slow, twisting bounder down the third-base line and McCarthy, racing +forward, scooped the ball with one hand and still running, snapped it +underhand to first base ten feet ahead of the runner. He knew that his +feat was mere bravado and that he had taken a reckless and useless +chance, but the crowd needed no further convincing, but broke into a +crashing testimonial of applause, and he knew he was safe so far as +their confidence in him was involved. + +The game developed into a panic, then the rout of the Rabbits and the +triumphant Bears rushed to victory by a score of 11 to 2. And, while +they were winning, the Panthers won one game by a wide margin and lost +the second after a fierce pitcher's duel, 2 to 1, leaving the Bears a +full game in the lead of the pennant race, with but five games to play, +while the Panthers played four. + +"The place to contradict baseball stories," remarked Clancy, grimly, in +the club house, as the players were dressing after the victory, "is on +the ball field. If we had lost to-day we would have been a bunch of +crooks, but as we won, we're all honest." + +He glanced quickly toward where Williams was dressing, but the pitcher +kept his eyes averted and seemed not to hear the remark. + +"And Kohinoor," the manager added, "I give it to you for nerve in +pulling off that circus stuff in the first inning. But if you do it +again it'll cost you a bunch of your salary." + +McCarthy found a note in his key box when he returned to the hotel. He +had torn it open to read when Miss Betty Tabor, who had returned from +the grounds with Mrs. Clancy, came laughing and almost dancing across +the lobby toward the group of players, leaving her portly, but no less +elated companion, to pant along behind her. + +"Oh, it was glorious, boys!" she said. "I never was so excited in my +life as when you made those four runs in the third inning. And Mother +Clancy was so wrought up she dropped three stitches in her fancy work +and had to work all the rest of the game picking them out." + +"She has a frightful case of nerves," said Swanson sarcastically. "I +believe she'd break a needle if we won the world's championship the +last inning of the deciding game." + +They laughed joyously as the girl turned to McCarthy and said frankly: + +"I am so glad for your sake, Mr. McCarthy. I was so angry I could have +turned and told some of the people behind me what I thought of them +before the game started, but when you fielded that first ball they +cheered you--and that made up for it." + +"They should have heard what Mr. Clancy had to say about it," he +laughed, and then growing serious said, "It is kind of you, Miss Tabor. +I am glad to know someone had faith in me." + +They were standing a little apart from the group, which was slowly +moving toward the elevators, chattering excitedly as school boys and +girls. The feeling of relief from the anxiety and suspicion that had +fallen upon them gave rise to exuberance. + +"Mr. Clancy is taking us for an auto ride all around the city +to-night," said Miss Tabor. "Shall I ask him to invite you to come +with us? There's an extra seat." + +"It's awfully good of you," he said in genuine regret. "I wish I +could--but I have an engagement." + +"Oh," she said, her tones chilling quickly. "I'm sorry." + +"Miss Tabor," he pleaded eagerly, "please do not think I do not want to +go"---- + +"Did I hint such a thing?" she inquired, with an air of innocent +indifference. + +He could not fence with her upon that basis and after a moment of idle +exchange of formalities she turned to join Mrs. Clancy and McCarthy +went to his room. Swanson was stretched upon the bed, reading +newspapers, and flinging each sheet at random as he finished scanning +its contents. + +"Darn the luck," said McCarthy, hurling his glove and shoes toward his +trunk. + +"Did his 'ittle tootsie wootsy treat him mean?" asked Swanson in his +most exasperating tones. + +"Aw shut up, you big dub," snapped McCarthy angrily, resorting to ball +players' repartee to cover his feelings. + +"Maybe his lovey dovey is just jealous and will forgive her 'ittle +pet," taunted the giant. "Petty mustn't mind what lovey says in her +notes." + +"Oh," said Swanson, with vast relief when he found Swanson was barking +up the wrong tree, "I forgot all about the note." + +He dragged the missive from his pocket and scanned it hastily, then +tossed it across to Swanson. + +"Date is off," he announced joyously. "Needn't watch me to-night." + +Swanson read: + +"Dear Larry: + +"Don't come to-night. Uncle will be here--with friends--and I'm +afraid. I must see you soon as possible. Will try to arrange to meet +you somewhere to-morrow. I will telephone. H." + +And while Swanson read the note McCarthy was at the telephone. + +"Miss Tabor," he was saying eagerly, "this is Mr. McCarthy. I find my +engagement for this evening is canceled. Please ask Mr. Clancy if I +may go. Please. Yes, I said please. Shall I say it again?" + +"And, Miss Tabor, if that spare seat is in the tonneau---- No, Mrs. +Clancy should sit with her husband." + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +_A Victory and a Defeat_ + +Another crowd of enormous size greeted the Bears as they raced onto the +ball field early the next afternoon to play the doubleheader that was +to complete the season's series against the Jackrabbits. + +The paper that had printed the attack upon the team had given space to +a partial retraction, and, although the players did not know it, the +reporter who had written the article had been suspended during an +investigation that was inspired because Technicalities Feehan had, +after overwhelming two editors with his statistics, convinced them that +no basis of truth existed for such charges. + +The Bears were happy and confident. With a full game the advantage and +only five more games to play, and those comparatively easy; with the +pitching staff in good condition, they considered the pennant as won. + +McCarthy and Swanson almost had forgotten to keep watch upon Williams. +They despised him, and in the club house and on the field they ignored +him completely. Several of the other players, although they knew +nothing of the plot, had come to ignore the pitcher, and he shunned +them all. He seemed nervous and laboring under a heavy strain. Two or +three times he started toward Clancy as if to speak to him, but each +time the manager, who was watching him, turned away to address another +player. Finally, Williams seemed to gather his courage, and with a +pretense of indifference he sauntered toward Clancy, who was talking +with several of the players. + +"Which game do I work, Bill?" he asked, tossing his glove down and +picking up a bat. + +"I think I'll save you for the first game of the World's Series, +Adonis," replied Clancy. "It's a shame to waste you beating these dub +clubs." + +The hidden sarcasm in the words stung. The pitcher started, then +rallied and said: + +"What have you got it in for me about? Haven't I worked my head off to +win for your team?" + +"I haven't made any kick," responded Clancy shortly. "When I have a +kick coming I'll make it good and strong." + +"I'm not joking, Bill," the pitcher persisted. "My arm is good, and a +lot of my friends are wondering why I don't work when it's my turn." + +"Tell them," said Clancy very quietly, "that I have only one third +baseman, and that I don't want him killed." + +Williams's eyes were opened. He felt beneath the bitter calmness of +the manager's voice the fact that Clancy knew--at least part of the +truth. His jaw dropped and his face went white. Clancy, with a short +laugh, started to run away. + +"Then I don't work to-day?" Alarm, pleading and a note of despair in +his tones as if he realized what the manager's decision meant to him. + +"No, not to-day," replied Clancy, watching him sharply. + +He turned away with exaggerated carelessness, and the rat-faced, +cold-eyed man in the stands, who had been watching them closely, +gritted out an oath and turned to Barney Baldwin, who was sitting +beside him: + +"He isn't going to let Williams pitch," He said. "We're done for, +Baldwin." + +The politician turned purple with rage. + +"Well, by ----, Edwards," he snarled, "we'll see about this. I'll put +this over or know why." + +The first game of the afternoon was a romp for the Bears. They scored +early, and by clean hitting and dashing play on the bases, piled up +tallies until the opponents were hopelessly defeated before the fifth +inning. The game was a stern chase from that to the finish, and the +Bears, scoring steadily, won, 9 to 2. + +Instead of being elated by the victory Clancy seemed worried. On the +bench he was fretful and uneasy. + +"Don't you fellows take any wide chances in the next game," he decreed +while the pitchers were warming up for the final battle against the +Jackrabbits. "We want this game. I'm sending Wilcox in to win it. +Who's that young bird the Rabbits are warming up? Hoskins, eh? +Busher? Well, watch him. These young fellows with nothing but a +strong arm are dangerous as the deuce at this time of the year." + +Unlike their manager, the players were confident. Their easy victory +in the first game, the fact that Wilcox, their best right-handed +pitcher, was to start the game against an unknown and untried "busher" +fresh from some small team and nervous through desire to win his first +game, made it seem as if victory should be easy. + +They blanked the Jackrabbits easily in the first inning, and, obedient +to orders, attacked the pitching of the youngster, Hoskins, with every +art known to them. They coached noisily, they waited at the plate, +they crowded close to the plate and they ran at the ball. + +"What's that bird got?" demanded Clancy as each batter returned to the +bench. "Nothin', eh? Nothing, and you swingin' your bat like you was +stirrin' apple butter? Nothin'? Say, you fellows get busy and make a +run or two." + +In spite of the orders, the abuse and criticism heaped upon them by the +anxious manager, the Bears were not able to hit the balls offered by +the tall, cool youngster picked up by the Jackrabbits from some obscure +club. He had steadied from his early symptoms of stage fright and was +pitching beautifully. His curve ball angled across the plate, his +speed jumped high across the shoulders of the batters. The fifth +inning came with the score nothing to nothing. + +The players no longer were confident. The batters no longer came back +to the bench with reports that the pitcher "had nothing," but they grew +serious and anxious and silent. They tried bunting, but the +Jackrabbits were prepared and checked the assault. They changed, and +instead of waiting they hit the first ball pitched. They realized now +that they were engaged in a contest with a pitcher of merit, for they +knew the difference between hitting unluckily and hitting good pitching. + +Wilcox, a quiet, studious pitcher, was among the first to realize that +the youngster was pitching well. + +"Get a run for me, fellows," he begged. "This kid has a world of stuff +on the ball. Just meet that fast one--poke it, and it may go over +safe. Get a run for me and we'll trim them." + +The veteran was pitching slowly, cautiously. Two or three times the +Jackrabbits threatened to score, but each time Wilcox put another twist +on the ball and stopped them. Inning after inning he pleaded with his +fellows to make a run, and Clancy stormed and grew sarcastic with each +failure. + +"Get him this time, fellows; finish it up," begged Clancy when the +Jackrabbits had been blanked. Norton was the first batter. He chopped +his bat with a short stroke and sent a safe hit flying to right. A +sacrifice pushed him along to second base and the crowd commenced to +cheer as Pardridge came to bat. The big fellow drove his bat crashing +against the first ball. It went on a line almost straight toward +second base. Norton was tearing for the plate when O'Neill, the +Jackrabbit second baseman, running across, leaped and stretched out one +hand. The ball stuck in his extended glove, he came down squarely on +second base and the triumphant scream of the crowd ended in a gasp of +disappointment at the realization that a double play had balked the +Bears' attack and ended the inning. + +The Jackrabbits, aroused by their narrow escape, attacked with new +vigor. A fumble gave them the opening. Despite the most determined +efforts of Wilcox they forced a run across the plate and the Bears were +thrown back under a handicap. + +McCarthy was the first batter. He crowded close to the plate, +determined to force the young pitcher to earn his victory. He refused +to hit until two strikes and three balls had been called, and then, +shortening his grip upon his bat, he hit the straight, fast ball +sharply to center for a base. Instead of sacrificing, Swanson received +orders to hit and run and, although he was thrown out at first base, +McCarthy reached second, and Babbitt, the first baseman, came to bat. +Hoskins appeared nervous. The strain was telling upon the youngster, +and Babbitt hit the first ball. From the sound of the bat hitting the +ball, McCarthy knew the hit was not on the ground, and as he started +homeward a glance showed him that Merode, the speedy little center +fielder, was running back into the deep field with his eye on the ball. +It was a fly-out unless Merode muffed, and McCarthy, knowing that such +a muff happens only four or five times a season, returned and perched +upon second base, ready to sprint for third the instant the ball struck +the fielder's hands. The thought flashed through his brain that the +Blues had released Merode because of a weak arm and a habit of lobbing +the ball back to the infielders instead of throwing it back with all +his power. The ball fell into the upstretched hands of the outfielder. +McCarthy leaped and raced for third base. He knew that Merode would +not throw there because of his weak arm and the length of the throw, so +he swung a little outside the base path, slowed up as he turned third, +and glanced toward the field. The ball was coming in. Merode had +thrown it slowly and carelessly toward the shortstop. McCarthy leaped +forward toward the plate. The shortstop, running out to meet the slow +throw, heard the cry of alarm from the fielders and the roar of +excitement from the crowd. He knew what was happening. He grabbed the +ball, whirled and threw like a shot to the plate. McCarthy was +two-thirds of the way home; but the ball, striking the ground, bounded +into the hands of the catcher six feet ahead of him. Like a flash +McCarthy hurled his body inside the line, with one foot outstretched to +touch the goal. He had out-guessed the catcher. His foot, stretched +out, felt the sharp jar of some object, then struck the plate, and, +rolling over and over, he arose covered with dust. + +The crowd was roaring. Nine out of ten thought McCarthy had counted +with the tying run, but Bill Tascott, crouching over the plate, jerked +his thumb over his shoulder, signaling that the runner was out and the +Bears beaten. + +Like flood waters breaking a dam, the crowd surged from the stands, +shouting, screaming, threatening. A thousand men, mad with +disappointment, swarmed around the umpire, pushing, shoving, shaking +fists and screaming. McCarthy pushed his way hurriedly into the mob, +which was growing more and more threatening. + +"Let him alone. He was right," he cried loudly. "The ball touched my +foot as I slid in." + +Those who heard him stopped, and in an instant the danger was over. +The crowd, subsiding suddenly, began to melt away. Tascott grinned as +he turned to McCarthy. + +"That was tough luck, Kohinoor," he said. "I was pulling for you to +beat the ball, and you had it beat, but your leg kicked up and hit the +ball as you slid. I'd have given a month's salary to call you safe." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +_Kidnapped_ + +"Train leaves at 11.30, Kohinoor," said Swanson as McCarthy came up to +their rooms after dinner that evening. "Let's play billiards until it +goes." + +"Can't," replied McCarthy shortly. "I've got to make that call +to-night. There's something wrong up there at Baldwin's, Silent. The +girl writes to-day that Baldwin will not be home this evening and that +she must see me to give me important news." + +"Sure you can trust her?" asked the big shortstop. "Don't take any +chances." + +"There's no danger in going to one of the finest homes on the drive to +call on a young woman," laughed McCarthy. + +"I'll get away as soon as possible and tackle you for fifty points, +three cushions, before we start for the train," promised McCarthy. +"You hang around." + +McCarthy had puzzled for two days over the odd conduct of Helen +Baldwin, and her brief note, appointing that evening for the call, had +failed to bring any solution of the riddle. He knew now that the girl +with whom he had imagined himself in love was selfish and shallow, but +he could not believe her criminal, nor did he for an instant think that +she was a part of the conspiracy to rob the Bears of their +championship. That he was in any danger he did not consider possible. +He went uptown determined to hasten the interview as much as possible +and arrived at the Baldwin mansion shortly after eight o'clock. + +Presently Helen Baldwin came. She was wearing a dark street gown and +her face was pale, dark rings under her eyes showing that she had been +suffering. + +"Larry," she said quietly, "you'll think me hateful and wicked. I have +had a terrible time these last two days, and I have been thinking. + +"I wanted to tell you I was a foolish, vain girl. I didn't love you; I +was in love with the thought of being mistress to James Lawrence's +fortune. I was conceited and silly and never thought of any one but +myself; but I did like you, Larry--I do. You will believe that, will +you not?" + +"Yes," he said simply. + +"I thought baseball was just a silly game," she went on, as if each +word cost her a pang. "I couldn't understand why you gave up so much; +why you insisted upon staying with the team. I didn't know that here +in the East it is a great business and that hundreds of thousands of +people take it so seriously. Uncle Barney asked me to get you to quit, +and I told him you would. My vanity was hurt when you refused." + +"You found out what it means for me to quit?" he asked. + +"Yes. Uncle Barney came home in a terrible rage. He had been drinking +and when he saw me he swore about you. He swore he'd fix you." + +Her voice sank to a frightened whisper. + +"He was only bluffing--I beg pardon; only talking," he said, striving +to soothe her. + +"I didn't know until then that I really cared, Larry," she went on. +"He frightened me. I asked him questions, and he told me what he and +some others have been doing to keep your club from winning." + +"What did he tell you?" he asked quickly. + +"He said they had one of your pitchers, I think he said, fixed, and +that he had paid some other players to hurt you and to hurt Mr. Wilcox, +I think he said. He wanted me to get you to come to meet me somewhere, +and they'd kidnap you and someone else--Mr. Swanson, I believe it was." + +"He's a kindly fellow," commented McCarthy coldly, an angry light +gleaming in his blue eyes. "Did he say where this was to take place?" + +"No. He tried to get me to write you to meet me at some place he +named. He said I needn't go there, just get you to come. I told him I +would. When he went to sleep I telephoned you because I was so +frightened. To-day we had a terrible quarrel. I refused to write to +you to meet me at the place he named." + +Her terror was so evident that her words were not necessary to add +conviction. + +McCarthy laughed a short, rasping laugh. + +"It's a good joke on him," he explained. "If he and his thugs are +hunting for me all over the city and I here in his own home, safe; the +last place he would look for me." + +"You mustn't wait," she urged anxiously. "You mustn't wait here, +Larry. He is drinking and I do not know what he might do if he came +home and found you here. You must go now." + +"I'll run back to the hotel and pick up my bodyguard, Swanson," he said +steadily, and with an attempt at indifference of manner, "I think I'll +be safe." + +"You'll kiss me goodbye, Larry," she pleaded. "She wouldn't care--if +she knew." + +"She?" he asked. "What do you mean?" + +He was astonished and curious to learn how the girl knew anything of +his growing regard for Betty Tabor. + +"I knew, I knew," she repeated. "I knew it the first time we met--I +knew there was another girl"---- + +"I'm certain I did not hint at such a thing," he replied with an +attempt at dignified bearing. "I have not even told her." + +"Good-bye," she said. "I hope you're happy, Larry, and please don't +think I meant to do wrong." + +She clung to him weeping until he put away her hands and went out. The +girl threw herself face downward upon the lounge and sobbed, this time +from a sense of loneliness and perhaps of loss. + +McCarthy descended the stairs and walked rapidly through the darkened +lawn to the street. In spite of his pretense of believing there was no +danger he found himself nervous. He walked two blocks toward the +street car line, when a taxicab swerved toward the sidewalk. + +"Taxi, sir, taxi?" asked the driver. "Take you downtown, sir?" + +McCarthy hesitated an instant. If he hurried back to the hotel and +found Swanson he would rid himself of the nervous dread of something +intangible which he could not explain. + +"How much downtown?" he asked, stopping near the taxicab, which had +come to a full stop. + +"Take you down for half rates, sir; I'm going that way." + +"Very well," said McCarthy. + +He walked to the side of the car, and turned the handle to step within. +The instant he entered the car he felt himself seized and jerked +downward while a pair of hands gripped at his throat. A vicious blow +struck him on the back of the neck. Twisting, fighting, squirming, he +struggled to free himself from the hands that were throttling him. His +knees found a grip upon the floor of the car, and bracing himself, he +jerked loose from one of the men, and struck wildly at the shape he saw +silhouetted against the opposite window. His fist met flesh with a +crunching sound. + +"I'll kill you for that," gritted someone, striking him. In the half +light of the interior McCarthy saw an object descending. He threw up +an arm to protect his head, and with a crunching blow a heavy blackjack +fell upon his arm. He seized the weapon and jerked it from the hand +that had held it, but it fell to the floor of the cab. + +McCarthy had struggled to his feet, bowing as his head struck the roof. +One man, seated, kicked at him and hurt him cruelly. He was standing, +with the car door swinging wide, while the car lurched and raced along +a rough street. + +Curses, groans, cries of pain and anger came from the interior as the +player, battling against two unknown opponents, fought on. All three +of the participants in the battle at forty miles an hour, were hampered +by the smallness of the interior. + +McCarthy strove to tear himself from the arms and legs that struck and +kicked him, to get his head out of the window to raise the alarm. + +Again and again he cried. Then suddenly the car lurched around a +corner at a mad pace, tipping onto two wheels and skidding sickeningly. +At that instant one of his assailants drove his feet against his body, +and, as the car lurched wildly, McCarthy broke loose, grasped +frantically for something to save himself, plunged from the machine, +struck upon the asphalt of the side street into which the car had +whirled, slid along it to the gutter and lay a huddled heap. + +The car stopped quickly and whirled back to where he lay. The men +leaped out, one cursing and frothing, the other urging silence and +haste. Between them they lifted the half-conscious player and shoved +him into the bottom of the car. + +[Illustration: THE MEN LEAPED OUT] + +"Hurry up, Fred," urged the quiet man to the driver. "These fellows +down at the corner are coming. Jump in, Jack." + +They leaped back into the taxi, and the man called Jack said viciously: + +"There--you, that'll teach you"--He kicked the prostrate player. + +"Cut that out," ordered the quiet man, quickly. "You needn't murder +him; he's fixed." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +_Baiting a Trap_ + +Events that preceded and led up to the desperate encounter between +McCarthy and the two strangers in the dark interior of a racing taxicab +seemed to have been dictated by fate. At the end of the doubleheader +between the Jackrabbits and Bears, Easy Ed Edwards had hurriedly laid +new plans to save himself. The gambler had watched both contests, +believing all the time that the result of the games ended his final +hope of winning the bets, and, facing ruin, he had welcomed his new +lease upon hope with the determination of resorting to desperate +measures to achieve his end. He realized that unless he acted at once +all his plotting had failed. After the defeat of the Bears in the +second game he left the grounds, hastened downtown in a taxi and at +once telephoned to both Adonis Williams and Barney Baldwin to meet him +at his rooms. Baldwin responded at once to the gambler's summons and +entered the rooms blustering. + +"You've a frightful nerve, Edwards," snarled the angry politician. +"Understand, I do not take orders from cheap gamblers." + +"You needn't try storming at me," said the gambler quietly. "I'm onto +you. You may ring over such a bluff as that in politics, but not with +me. You don't seem to understand." + +"I don't think you can deliver any votes anyhow," said Baldwin +sullenly. "I've nothing but your word for it." + +"That's all the security I ever needed," said the gambler +superciliously. "But never mind about the votes--you're going to help +me." + +"I've done all I can"---- + +"No, you haven't. I want you to go to-morrow morning and join the +Bears and I want you to see to it that Williams pitches one of those +games against the Blues. He'll lose it this time. I've thrown a scare +into him and he'll do it, even if he gives himself away." + +"I tell you I can't," snarled Baldwin. "President Bannard is the only +one who knows I own the club"---- + +"Take your stock with you. That proves you own it." + +"And Bannard is out of town. Clancy wouldn't pay any attention to +me"---- + +"You own this club," said Edwards. "You can do what you please with +it, and you're going to do it." + +"You talk as if you owned me!" Baldwin was purple with anger. + +"I do," said the gambler coldly. "It would look good in print to have +the people know that Barney Baldwin, the crooked politician, owns both +the Bears and the Panthers, wouldn't it?" + +"You have no proof"---- + +"Haven't I? I saved both your notes. You're a fool, Baldwin. You +write letters. I have two mentioning McCarthy and Williams. I +wouldn't have any trouble getting them printed. Any sporting editor in +the city would give a thousand dollars for such proof." + +"Look here, Ed," expostulated Baldwin, "there isn't any use for us to +quarrel. We're both in this thing"---- + +"Now you're talking sense," said the gambler. "We haven't any time to +lose. The club leaves town at 11.30 to-night." + +"What do you want me to do?" gasped Baldwin helplessly. + +"You're pretty strong with Captain Raferty, of the North Nineteenth +Street police, aren't you?" + +"Yes--I've done him some favors." + +"Well, I want you to fix it with him that when I bring a prisoner in +to-night some time he's to be locked downstairs and kept until you +telephone to let him loose." + +"What are you going to do?" asked Baldwin, alarmed. + +"I'm going to do something myself," replied the gambler sharply. "I've +tried a lot of you fellows and you've all fallen down. Now I'm going +to get this McCarthy and put him out of the way." + +"You're taking an awful risk"---- + +"It's a sure thing the other way, and I'm desperate," the gambler cut +him short. "When you get that fixed you catch the first train and +follow the team. You get Clancy in the morning and force him to let +Williams pitch one of the games down there. Wilcox is worked out now, +and if we can make sure Williams will pitch one game, that will force +Clancy to pitch Wilcox again, and he'll be beaten sure. With McCarthy +out of the game, as he will be, the Bears haven't a chance. They're +half a game ahead, but if they lose two out of three and the Panthers +win one out of their remaining two games, the Panthers beat them out on +percentage, and the Panthers ought to win both games." + +"You haven't cornered McCarthy yet?" asked the politician. + +"No," admitted Edwards. "He left the hotel nearly two hours ago and +said he'd be back before ten o'clock. I have two men watching him, and +they're to let me know where he is and what he is doing. I ought to +have heard from them before now." + +The telephone rang at that instant. + +"This is it now," said Edwards in low tones. "Hello!" he said, taking +up the receiver. "Yes--you, Jack? All right. You have? Where? All +right. I'll join you as fast as I can get there. Don't let him reach +the hotel if I'm late--you understand?" + +"What do you think of that?" he asked, turning to Baldwin. "Of all the +gall--where do you think that fellow McCarthy was?" + +"I don't know." + +"No wonder Jack had such a hard time locating him. He was at your +house." + +"I have a taxi waiting downstairs," said Edwards quickly. "Come on, +I'll drop you at the police station. We'll bring in the prisoner +before you've been there very long." + +"How are you going to get him?" inquired Baldwin, as the taxi dodged in +and out among traffic. + +"I've got Big Jack, the fighter, trailing McCarthy," said the gambler, +laughing mirthlessly. "He's sore on ball players since that scrap with +Swanson and Kennedy the other night, and he'll welcome a chance to get +his hands on one." + +"He won't hurt him, will he?" asked Baldwin nervously. + +"No, he won't hurt him," replied the gambler with scornful sarcasm. +"Not a bit. He'll probably take him in his lap and sing him to sleep." + +"This is dangerous business," objected Baldwin nervously. "We might +all get into trouble." + +"We're all in trouble now," snapped Edwards. "You leave the trouble +end of it to me." + +The taxi slackened its pace as it approached the police station and +Baldwin climbed out under the lights that marked it as the home of the +paid guardians of the people's rights and liberties. + +"Don't fall down this time," warned the gambler. "If this don't go +through, the newspapers will have some fine information to print in the +next few days." + +"I'll fix it, Ed, I'll frame it all right," replied Baldwin nervously. + +The mention of his name and the imposing manner he had assumed won for +him immediate entrance to the captain's private room, and after ten +minutes of earnest conversation, Baldwin emerged, the gray-haired +official with the gilt stars and chevrons escorting him and shaking +hands with him at the street door. + +"Don't forget, Raferty," said Baldwin importantly. "I want him kept +close until I can get the proof we need. Don't let any lawyers or +reporters get near him and keep your cops from gossiping. You won't +lose anything by it, Raferty. Drop down and see me sometime. I'd like +to talk the political situation over with you. You understand?" + +Meantime the taxicab, with Edwards inside, had raced across the upper +portion of the city to the place where Big Jack was pacing the shadowy +part of the sidewalk half a block from Baldwin's home. + +"He hasn't come out yet," Jack reported, stepping into the light as the +taxi slowed down and crept along near the gutter. + +"Jump in," said Edwards. "Run over across the street, and step in the +shadow there," he ordered the chauffeur. + +"There he comes now, out the gate. Follow him." + +Five minutes later McCarthy stepped into the trap laid by the gambler +and, ten minutes after he lurched out of the machine, he was carried +half unconscious, into the basement door of the police station and +deposited roughly upon the bench in the "cozy corner." + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +_McCarthy Disappears_ + +Silent Swanson was jabbing billiard balls around the table as if +venting his irritability upon the innocent spheres of ivory. + +"Why so cruel to the relics of departed generations of ball players?" +inquired Kennedy, who was cuddled up in cushioned settee watching. + +"Waiting for Kohinoor." + +"Where has he gone?" inquired Kennedy carelessly. + +"Skirting again," explained Swanson. "He ought to be back before +long," added Swanson, jabbing the balls harder and stopping to look at +his watch. "It's five past ten now, and he said he'd cut the call +short." + +"Think any sane guy would quit a pretty girl to spend an evening with +you?" inquired Kennedy insultingly, having decided to wile away the +time by ragging his big teammate. + +"I've a hunch something is wrong with Kohinoor," said Swanson. "He +told me he'd break away early and shoot me some billiards before train +time. He didn't say just when, but I expected him back by ten." + +"Why don't you sue him for divorce if he neglects you?" suggested +Kennedy, again seeking to start an argument. + +Swanson consulted his watch with gloomy foreboding and declined to +engage in repartee. + +"Better come drag along down to the train," suggested Kennedy. "I'll +buy the gas wagon to haul us. Your little playmate is safe enough." + +"I'll hang around here," replied Swanson without spirit. + +"All right," Kennedy remarked, rising and stretching himself. "I'm +going to dig along and get into the hay before that old rattler starts. +I want some sleep. Most of the fellows already have gone." + +Swanson resumed his gloomy pastime of making fancy shots on the +billiard table. When he looked at his watch again it marked ten-thirty. + +He strolled upstairs to the lobby, scanned the writing room and smoking +rooms for a sign of McCarthy and then, with a sudden anxiety, he +hurried to the telephone and called the Baldwin residence number. + +"Is this Miss Baldwin speaking?" he inquired, using his off-the-field +manner. + +"Is my friend, Mr. McCarthy, there?" he inquired when she responded in +the affirmative. "I was to meet him, and he has not appeared." + +"Hasn't he arrived at the hotel?" he girl inquired in quick alarm. "He +left here more than three-quarters of an hour ago. Has something +happened to him?" + +"I don't know, miss," said Swanson. "I got anxious waiting for him---- +You're sure he left your house that long ago?" + +"About that--I'm not certain," she said. "He was only here a short +time." + +"I expect he had to wait for a car, or else went straight to the +station without stopping here," said Swanson, striving to quiet the +evident alarm of the girl, although his own misgivings were growing. +"He left the house alone, did he?" + +"Who are you? Are you a friend of his?" asked the girl anxiously. + +"Yes, I'm Swanson, his chum," replied the shortstop. "You needn't +worry, miss, he'll be all right. I'm sorry I worried you about it." + +He hung up the receiver and made a hasty tour of the hotel, descended +to the billiard room, peeped into the bar and hurried through the +writing and lounging rooms. + +"Five after eleven," he muttered to himself, as he turned from the +desk. "Kohinoor has found he was late and stayed on the car to the +station. I'll grab a taxi and hurry down." + +"If he comes in tell him I've gone," he called to the clerk as he +hurried out. + +A quarter of an hour later Swanson hurried into the great train shed +where the train was waiting to bear the Bears on their final trip of +the season. Most of the athletes already had sought their berths to +attempt to get to sleep before the train started, as the ride was a +short one and the hours of sleep too few. + +"Kohinoor down yet?" asked Swanson in a low tone, as he came near the +trainer. + +"Haven't seen him," replied the trainer. "I put his baggage in his +berth. There's a card game in the smoking room, maybe he's in there." + +"I'll watch for him at the gate," said Swanson, "he may turn up yet." + +Worried and alarmed, Swanson swung back along the train and took his +stand where he could watch the entrances to the station and the great +clock at the same time. Three minutes remained before time for the +train to start. There was a flurry in the crowd at the gates, and a +man broke through to race for the train. Swanson's heart leaped. He +started to meet the newcomer, then, with a sickening feeling, he saw +that it was not McCarthy, but Williams. + +"Seen Kohinoor?" inquired Swanson, as Williams hurried past. + +"Not since dinner. Isn't he here?" inquired Williams, stopping and +dropping his grip. + +"Haven't seen him," replied Swanson, watching Williams closely for +symptoms of guilt, and finding none. + +"I expected it," said Williams nastily. "Maybe that story about him +trying to throw games is straight after all." + +"That's what a lot of them will say if he don't show up to-morrow," +reflected Swanson. + +The warning cry of all aboard sounded. The big shortstop hesitated an +instant, and gave a despairing glance toward the gates, just being +closed. + +"It won't do for both of us to miss this game," he muttered as he +turned and ran along the platform. The porter was just closing the +vestibule doors and the train was gathering speed as the big shortstop +swung aboard, went into the now deserted smoking room and sank down, +staring blankly out of the window at the rushing lights. + +Before the train reached the city of the Blues the news that McCarthy +was missing had spread through the car of the Bears. The consternation +that followed the rumor grew as the berths were made up and it became a +certainty that the third baseman was not with the team. Swanson had +informed Manager Clancy early in the morning of the events of the +preceding evening so far as he knew them. They had not told anyone, +but every member of the team knew, and they gathered in little groups. +Williams was circulating around the car, talking with different players. + +"Look at him," said Swanson to Clancy. "He hates McCarthy and he was +the one who told them first that Kohinoor was not with us. He guessed +it when I asked him last night if he had seen him." + +"It's queer," the voice of Pardridge came from the berth behind them. +"It's a funny thing that all this sort of trouble in the team started +when that red-headed tramp joined us." + +"They'll all be talking that way," said Swanson gloomily. "They wait +for a chance to knock." + +"Something may have happened to delay him," said the manager in tones +that showed he did not believe his own hopeful words. "Maybe he went +to the wrong station, or had an accident. Have you looked at the +papers?" + +"Yes. Nothing in them about any accident. I'm still hoping he'll be +in at noon, catching that early morning train." + +"I hope for a telegram from him anyway, when we get to the hotel," +replied the manager. + +But McCarthy did not show up, nor was there any telegram from him +awaiting when the team reached their hotel. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +_Baldwin Shows His Hand_ + +"There's a swarm of reporters down in the lobby all excited over +McCarthy," announced Swanson as, in obedience to orders, he, with +Kennedy, Norton and Technicalities Feehan, gathered in Clancy's room +soon after breakfast. + +"Let them wait," replied Clancy. "They've been calling up here every +five minutes." + +Briefly each of the players recounted the little they had seen or heard +during the preceding evening, Swanson giving his account of his +engagement with McCarthy, his telephone conversation with Miss Baldwin, +of her evident sincerity when she informed him as to McCarthy's +departure from the house and of his vain wait. + +"But what could have happened?" asked Kennedy. "You're sure he got out +of the house? It's only two blocks to the street car line and three to +the elevated on lighted streets, you say. If he was hit by an +automobile or held up by robbers it would have been in the newspapers." + +"Manager Clancy," said Feehan softly from his perch upon a trunk, which +gave him the aspect of a huge owl, "I have been giving consideration to +a plan. Unless Mr. McCarthy should arrive on the 11.45 train I shall +catch the noonday express for home, arriving there shortly after five, +to put my plan into effect." + +"But you cannot neglect your work, Feehan," protested the manager. +"It's fine of you to offer it, but you've got yourself to think of." + +"I have a premonition," responded the reporter solemnly, "or what Mr. +Swanson so graphically expresses as a 'hunch,' that the story at the +other end is bigger than the story of the contest. Besides, Mr. +Hardner has kindly consented to report the game of to-day for my paper +as well as his own." + +"What's your theory, Technicalities?" asked Clancy gratefully. + +"Only one of two things are probable," explained Feehan. "Either +McCarthy left of his own accord or because of threats made to him or +else he has been kidnapped by certain--ah--interests, let us say, +desirous of preventing the Bears from winning the championship emblem." + +"Ah, Kohinoor wouldn't quit, and they couldn't scare him," growled +Swanson. + +"Precisely, Mr. Swanson. The statistics prove beyond doubt that he is +not concerned in the losing of games, putting aside the fact that the +young man undoubtedly is honest and sincere. That leaves us only one +premise, the other having been found untenable. Mr. McCarthy has been +kidnapped." + +"I can't figure how they could take him in a public street or from a +street car," interposed Clancy. + +"I have calculated that," said the reporter. "Either he is in the +Baldwin home and Miss Baldwin ah--er--falsified or he was attacked +between her uncle's home and the street car line two and one-half +blocks distant." + +"How do you propose finding him?" asked Clancy. + +"I shall arrive at 5.11," replied the peculiar little man of news +quietly. "Before six o'clock I shall have one of the best detective +agencies in the world scouring the city." + +The train came steaming into the station on time and the shortstop and +the reporter crowded closer to the gates, watching the stream of +hurrying passengers rushing through the narrow gates and spreading, +fan-like, across the great floor. Suddenly Swanson's elbow jarred +against the reporter's body, causing the frail statistician to wince. + +"Look there!" said Swanson in excited whispers. + +"Where--who?" inquired Feehan, striving to focus his heavy glasses upon +the position indicated by his companion. + +"It's Baldwin--the big fellow with the cane and the small satchel. See +him?" + +"I see a big man. I never saw Baldwin," responded the reporter. "Now, +what can he be doing over here?" + +"I'm going to find out," replied Swanson, his jaw setting pugnaciously. +"McCarthy isn't on that train or he'd have been out among the first, +and they're almost all out now. Good luck to you, Feehan, and wire me +the minute you locate Kohinoor." + +"I will," promised the reporter. "What you've got to do is to win that +game to-day without him. I'll have him here to-morrow if he hasn't +broken a leg." + +Swanson leaped into the taxi immediately behind that into which he had +seen Baldwin climb, and ordered the driver to follow the other vehicle. +His surprise hardly could have been greater than when the short pursuit +of Baldwin ended at the hotel from which he had come, unless it was +that which came over him when, upon following the big man to the desk, +he heard Baldwin order the clerk to send his card to Manager Clancy. + +Swanson's surprise, however, was little more than that experienced by +Manager Clancy when the bell boy delivered Baldwin's card. + +"Send him right up," he said, and as the boy turned he said to himself: +"Now, what the dickens does that fellow want with me?" + +Baldwin entered the room pompously, and walked toward the Bears' +manager with his pudgy hand extended. + +"Ah, Clancy," he said patronizingly. "I'm Mr. Baldwin. I've seen you +often on the field, but never had the occasion to meet you before." + +"Yes," replied Clancy, ignoring the hand, "I've heard of you often, +Baldwin, in various connections. You wanted to see me?" + +"Yes; matter of business," said the big man. "Fact is, Clancy, I ran +over from home purposely to have a little confidential talk with you." + +"Depends upon what it is whether it's confidential or not," said +Clancy; "I can't pledge myself not to tell the newspaper boys, +especially if you've come to give me a third baseman." + +"Hasn't McCarthy shown up?" inquired the politician quickly. + +"No," responded Clancy coldly. "Didn't happen to see him over in town, +did you?" + +"No, no. Fact is, Clancy, I never have paid much attention to my ball +players." + +"Your ball players?" It was Clancy's turn to be astonished. + +"Yes, yes; Clancy, I supposed you knew. I've owned the controlling +interest in the Bears for a number of years. That's what I came to see +you about." + +"You own the Bears?" Clancy's tone was between surprise and disbelief. + +"Certainly, certainly. Now, I haven't taken any active interest in +them for several reasons until lately. Truth is things aren't going to +suit me, and I have decided to take a hand myself." + +"You have?" asked Clancy. "Well, you may own this club, but I'm d----d +if you can run it while I'm manager." + +"I'm not trying to run it, Clancy," replied the big man, unruffled. +"Don't fly off that way. I just decided to use the owner's prerogative +of consulting the manager." + +"All right, Mr. Baldwin," replied Clancy, puzzled and mollified. "I +did not know--you see it's a new idea--I didn't even know you owned +stock." + +Clancy was sparring for time in which to collect his thoughts, which +were sadly scattered by the unexpected developments. + +"Thought you might not be convinced," said Baldwin easily, "so I +brought the documents along. Look over them and be convinced I own the +club. They cost me a pretty neat pile, but I'm satisfied. You've made +'em pay me." + +He tossed over the book of stock certificates, and Clancy, who owned a +few shares of stock himself, realized their genuineness as he looked +through them while planning his next move. + +"I congratulate you," he said, handing back the forms. "I own a couple +myself, so I know what they pay. Well, what have you to suggest, Mr. +Baldwin? We're having a hard time winning this race, and if I seemed +curt, blame it on worries. I have plenty." + +"Naturally we all want to win," said Baldwin pompously. "Now, as to +behavior, I'm told Swanson and Kennedy aren't behaving themselves." + +"They're all right," argued Clancy, feeling from Baldwin's tone that he +had not yet reached the point. + +"I heard they had a fight in a barroom." Baldwin spoke with an effort +of sternness. "That won't do, Clancy. And now McCarthy is missing. +Then there's another thing." + +Baldwin hesitated as if thinking how best to state his case, and Clancy +eyed him closely, feeling that the real object of the interview was +coming, "I'm not at all pleased with the way you are working your +pitchers." + +"A fellow makes blunders sometimes," replied Clancy, with a meekness +astounding in him. + +"That's what I wanted to talk to you about," went on Baldwin blandly. +"Who do you propose pitching to-day and to-morrow?" + +In a flash Clancy understood. It was Baldwin who had been urging +Bannard to have Williams pitch. He saw through Baldwin's motives and +planned quickly how to meet them. + +"Well," he said, frowning as if worried, "it's a tough game. You see, +the fans never forgive a fellow if he guesses wrong at this time in a +race. I planned to use Williams in one game and Morgan the other. You +see the Blues hit right-handers harder than they do left-handers." + +"So I understand," a gleam of cunning and triumph came into the eyes of +the politician. "Morgan and Williams ought to beat them, I think." + +"Yes, they ought--I'm a little afraid of Morgan." Clancy was drawing +the owner out. "He hasn't shown speed in his last two games." + +"Then Williams is in fine form?" The triumph and satisfaction in the +big man's voice were unmistakable. + +"He's good," replied Clancy. "He ought to best them sure." + +"Will you pitch him to-day or to-morrow?" asked Baldwin, completely +thrown off his guard. "I'm anxious to make certain he will pitch." + +"Of course he'll pitch, Mr. Baldwin," replied the manager. "I've got +to pitch him and he's my best man." + +"All right, Clancy, all right," said the owner genially. "I'm glad I +had this conference with you. I was afraid you were angry with +Williams or something and would not let him work. Glad to see you have +good judgment." + +He went out and as the door closed he removed his hat, and, wiping his +brow, smiled a smile of great relief over the fact that his purpose had +been accomplished without trouble. Had he been able to see through the +door he would have seen Clancy, the veins of his neck standing out +purple, his face convulsed with rage, standing, shaking his fist toward +the door and muttering: + +"Yes, I'll pitch Williams. I'll pitch Williams, and by ---- he'll win." + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + +_Searching_ + +Betty Tabor had remained at the hotel in the home town with Mrs. Clancy +when the Bears went to play their two-game series with the Blues. + +Mrs. Clancy had refused positively to engage in any baseball +conversation or to debate with Miss Tabor the chances of the Bears +winning the championship. + +"Heavens knows it's hard enough to be married to a baseball man," she +said as she bit a thread, "him makin' base hits in his sleep and +worrying the little hair he has left off his head, without havin' a +girl that ought to be thinkin' of dresses and hats wantin' to din +baseball into my ears all day. My dear, never marry a ball player." + +"You appear to be pretty well satisfied with yours, Mother Clancy," +teased the girl. "Maybe I'll find one as fine some day"---- + +"I'm thinkin' you've found yours now," replied Mrs. Clancy, without +glancing up from her work. "A nice bye, too, although they do say the +red-headed ones are hot tempered." + +"Why, Mother Clancy! How dare you!" the girl expostulated, reddening. + +"If you're thinkin' to deceive Ellen Clancy, you're sore mistaken," +replied the manager's wife. "My Willie says I can tell when young +people are in love before they know it themselves, an' ye and the +red-headed McCarthy boy has all the symptoms. 'Tis a nice boy he is, +too, and you'll be doin' well." + +"But after ye've been married as long as we have ye'll not be wantin' +to see many ball games. Many's the time I've begged Willie to quit it +and get a little house out in the country, with a bit of green grass +and maybe a flower bed and a little garden and a porch, and maybe a +chicken yard, and let me end my days in peace, out of the sound of +crowds and yellin' maniacs. Eighteen year I've ridden with him on cars +smellin' of arnica, and with the train dust an' cinders in me eyes an' +hair, and I long for peace. Only one season I've missed--'twas when +little Mar-rtin was born"---- + +She snuffled a little and dropped her work to wipe her eyes hastily. +It was fifteen years since their only baby had come and gone in a short +year, to leave them closer to each other, but each with a heart pain +that never ceased. + +A bell boy interrupted her lecture to bring in a card, and Mrs. Clancy, +glancing at it, passed it over to Miss Tabor. + +"'Tis for you, Betty girl," she said. "And, Mother of Mary, she'll see +us this way"---- + +Betty Tabor sat staring at the card, at first puzzled, then in a panic +of mingled emotions. + +"Tell her to come up," she said. "I'll see her here. Mother Clancy, +don't you dare hide." + +The girl hastily arranged her hair and straightened the room, and a few +minutes later, when the boy ushered the visitor into the apartments, +she was self-possessed and cool. She arose as the door opened, and +started forward to meet her guest, but stopped staring as the color +faded from her face and then slowly heightened. + +"You are Miss Tabor?" inquired the visitor, her voice trembling from +excitement and nervousness. + +"Yes. You are Miss Helen Baldwin; you desired to see me?" + +The sight of the girl she had seen talking with Kohinoor McCarthy in +the hotel parlor, shortly after he joined the club, had shaken her +composure. + +"Oh, Miss Tabor," Helen Baldwin cried, sinking into a chair and giving +way to her emotions. "I had to come--I had nowhere else to go--and +they told me over the telephone only you and Mrs. Clancy were here and +all the men of the team away." + +"If it is baseball business," replied Miss Tabor, "perhaps you'd better +see Mrs. Clancy. I'll call her"---- + +"No! no! no!" expostulated the girl, drying her eyes. "It is you I +must see. Have you heard anything from Mr. McCarthy?" + +"I have no especial reason to hear from Mr. McCarthy," said Miss Tabor, +freezing slowly. "I suppose he is with the team." + +"He isn't! He isn't!" pleaded the girl. "He has disappeared---- +Haven't you seen the papers?" + +"Mr. McCarthy disappeared! Where? When?" Betty Tabor had forgotten +her jealousy in her startled alarm. "He isn't with the team?" + +"I read it in the papers," sobbed Helen Baldwin. "He was at my house +last evening. He left there--and he has disappeared. I hoped you +might know." + +"At your house?" Betty Tabor's alarm struggled with her jealousy. +"And he's gone? Let me see the paper." + +"I haven't seen him, Miss Baldwin," she said, after glancing at the +paper. "We thought he had gone with the team. Tell me what you know. +Perhaps we may help you. You were engaged to him, were you not?" + +"We were--once," sobbed Helen Baldwin. "But that's all over. I did +him a wrong. I never loved him--that way--and it's all my fault he's +in trouble now." + +Betty Tabor's heart leaped with a joy that overwhelmed all other +emotions. Her cold attitude toward Helen Baldwin changed, and, sinking +upon the seat beside the sobbing girl, she put her arm around her. + +"There, there," she said comfortingly, as a mother might, forgetting +that Helen Baldwin was older that she. "You must not blame yourself. +Try to tell me what happened last evening. Perhaps we may know what to +do." + +Slowly, with interruptions by hysterical moments, Helen Baldwin told +the story of her unconscious part in the conspiracy; of her alarm for +the safety of McCarthy; how she had sent for him and warned him, and of +Swanson's telephone call. + +"You'd better go home, dear, and rest," Betty said finally. "There is +nothing we can do. The men will have started the search early this +morning and notified the police. He will return." + +Helen Baldwin, calmed and reassured by the brave pretense of the +younger woman, prepared to go home. Betty Tabor assisted her to +rearrange her disordered fair hair, murmuring her admiration for it as +she worked. For the first time a smile came to the troubled face of +Helen Baldwin, and when she was ready to go she kissed Betty and held +her at arm's length. + +"You're very good and unselfish," she said in low tones. "I hope you +and he are very happy." + +"Why, Miss Baldwin," exclaimed Betty, blushing, "there is nothing +between us. He is scarcely a friend"---- + +"I know, dear," replied the taller girl, kissing her again. "He is a +very good and lovable boy, and very impetuous. He really loves you." + +She smiled a trifle wanly and turning, left the room. + +Betty Tabor turned with a sigh, just in time to see Mrs. Clancy making +violent gestures through a small crack in the door. + +"You didn't ask her," exclaimed the exasperated Mrs. Clancy. "You +didn't ask her!" + +"Ask her what?" inquired Betty in surprise. "You heard what we talked +about?" + +"Every word. I listened shamelessly," replied the manager's wife. +"'Tis my curiosity will kill me. You didn't ask her one word about who +McCarthy is. And she knows all about him!" + +"I didn't think--I forgot," said Betty, hurrying to gather her work and +belongings in preparation for leaving. + +"Where are you going, child?" asked Mrs. Clancy. + +"I'm going to dress and get an automobile to make the rounds of all the +hospitals. He may be hurt and in one." + +"Glory be! I never thought of it! Dress fast, darlin', an' I'll go +with you." + +They returned, weary and discouraged. They had not found a trace of +the missing boy. Scarcely had they reached their rooms than another +call for Miss Tabor came, and a few minutes later Technicalities Feehan +entered. + +"Mr. Feehan, what are you doing here?" both women exclaimed in chorus. + +"I'm searching for Mr. McCarthy," responded Feehan. "I reached the +city shortly after five o'clock, and, having concluded my arrangements +for finding Mr. McCarthy, it occurred to me that, having an evening of +idleness, I might devote it to no better purpose than in escorting you +ladies to some place of amusement." + +"To a theatre, with a tragedy like this happening to one of our boys!" +exclaimed Miss Tabor indignantly. + +"Rest assured, Miss Tabor," he replied, "we can do nothing, and +eventually Mr. McCarthy will be found." + +"How? Who is looking for him while we waste time?" she asked hotly. + +"My arrangements," he stated quietly, "did not include useless running +around. I called upon our managing editor, laid the figures and +conclusive data before him, and convinced him that, besides securing an +excellent news story, he can serve the team and the ends of right and +justice by seeking Mr. McCarthy." + +"Well, what did he do?" demanded Mrs. Clancy, sadly out of patience +with his deliberate manner and rather flamboyant style of expression. + +"As a result of his interest in the matter," replied Technicalities, +"eight of the most highly trained men of his staff--men who know the +city better than anyone who lives in it does--are seeking Mr. McCarthy +with orders to find him to-night." + +"How did to-day's game come out?" inquired Miss Tabor, relieved. "I +almost forgot the game." + +"Our team was defeated, 8 to 6," replied Feehan quietly. "McCarthy's +absence already has cost us one game, and I greatly fear that unless he +plays to-morrow the Bears are defeated in the championship contest." + +"Glory be! I've dropped two more stitches!" said Mrs. Clancy. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +_Williams Stands Exposed_ + +"Now here's a bally nice mess of figures," said Kennedy, holding half a +dozen much-marked-upon sheets of writing paper in his inky fingers, and +looking across the table at Swanson, Norton and Holleran. + +"What are you figuring, Ken?" asked Holleran. + +"I've been trying to figure out this pennant race," said Kennedy +irritably. "Here we seem to be half a game ahead of the Panthers, and +yet, just because it rained on them yesterday, and they didn't have to +play but one game of their doubleheader, we've got to win two games to +beat them out if they win their one game to-day." + +He handed across a sheet of paper upon which was written: + + W. L. P.C. + Bears.......... 89 59 .600 + Panthers....... 91 61 .599 + + +"Well, ain't we ahead of them?" asked Swanson, studying the figures. + +"Yes, but look here. Supposing they win to-day and we win, we'll still +be ahead. But supposing they win to-day and we win, and then we lose +to-morrow. Look at this." + +He handed over another slip of paper, upon which was written: + + W. L. P.C. + Panthers....... 92 61 .601 + Bears.......... 90 60 .600 + + +"If we don't win both these games, or if it don't rain here to-day, or +up home to-morrow, and keep us from playing, they beat us out by ten +thousandths, or thirteen hundred thousandths. Didn't I always say +thirteen was an unlucky number?" + +"I wonder who Clancy will send in to pitch to-day?" asked Kennedy, +idly. "Wilcox hasn't had enough rest. I suppose he'll be saved for +to-morrow. Jacobson isn't right, and Morgan worked yesterday and got +his trimmings. I suppose it'll be Williams." + +An ugly laugh greeted his sarcastic remark, and Norton opened his lips +as if to speak, but, thinking better of it, closed them again. + +At that moment a bell boy came into the writing room, paging Williams. +A quick exchange of glances between the players resulted and Swanson +asked, "Who wants Mr. Williams?" + +"Mr. Clancy, sir," said the boy. "He wants Mr. Williams in his room at +once." + +"Didn't I tell you?" said Kennedy, in mock triumph. + +"Say, fellows," added Swanson. "I'd give a month's pay to hear what +comes off up in that room. Clancy was on his ear this morning when I +came down. He'd been awake half the night, trying to get some word +from Kohinoor, and he was pretty well worked up. You know when he gets +started to telling a fellow what he thinks of him he does it so the +fellow believes it himself." + +"He sure can explain a fellow's shortcomings," said Kennedy. "Look, +the boy has found Williams and he is going up. He looks scared to +death." + +"Mamma, but I'd like to be among those present," said Swanson. "There +will be several developments. Hadn't we better put mattresses under +Clancy's window for Williams to light on?" + +Meantime, in Manager Clancy's room a scene was being staged that +fulfilled all the expectations of the players. Williams entered the +room with a swaggering pretense of ignorance of the nature of the +summons. + +"Morning, Manager," he said with an effort at innocent playfulness. +"How's things?" + +"Sit down, you crook!" + +Clancy had arisen as Williams entered. He shot the order at the +pitcher viciously and without warning, and, as he spoke, he stepped +past the player, and locked the door. + +Williams had gone pale. His mouth dropped open. He started to say +something, choked and sat down. + +"What--what do you mean?" he managed to stammer as Clancy came close +and stood over him threateningly. + +After his first outburst of rage Clancy was strangely quiet, speaking +in low tones, vibrating with repressed feeling. From the moment Barney +Baldwin had revealed to him his ownership of the Bears, and had issued +his positive orders that Williams should pitch the game, Clancy had +been fighting within himself, studying to find some plan of vengeance +that would strike all the plotters. Never for an instant had he +considered the thought of permitting the championship to be surrendered +by the orders of the owner. + +"Williams," he said, "you're a never-to-be-sufficiently-spit-upon cur. +You're the lowest, yellowest dog in the world. I've known for two +weeks that you have been trying to lose the pennant for us." + +"Shut up!" he snapped, lifting his voice sharply as the pitcher +attempted to speak. "I know what you've done and what you plan to do. +I know who is back of you"---- + +The pitcher cowered under the scathing denunciation and started as if +to rise. + +"Who--who's been telling you this stuff?" he quavered, terror-stricken. + +"You--you rat." Clancy's scorn stung like a lash and Williams +quivered. "I know everything. I've waited and watched when you +thought you were putting something over. I've waited for a chance to +get you"---- + +He paused a moment, while Williams, palsied with terror, sat unable to +answer. + +"And I've got you, Williams!" + +He shot the sentence at the pitcher, who half started from his seat, +lifting his hands as if to protect himself from attack. + +"I'm not going to choke you to death, I wouldn't soil my hands on you," +said the manager with a scornful laugh. + +"What are you going to do, Bill?" William's voice quivered. + +"I'm going to make you pitch to-day's game," said the manager quietly. + +A gasp of amazement and relief came from Williams. + +"You're going to pitch to-day's game, Williams," the manager repeated. +"And you're going to win it. You're going to win it, or if you don't +win I'll tell the crowd you were bribed, and I'll let the crowd handle +you. They'll tear you to pieces, Williams, and kick the pieces around +the diamond--and I'll help them do it." + +"You won't do anything to me if I win?" pleaded the pitcher. + +"No; I won't do a thing to you," said Clancy, and he spat as if to +relieve himself of a bad taste, as he turned and went out, locking the +door. + +"Good God, look at Clancy," whispered Swanson in awed tones as the +manager stepped out of the elevator a minute or two later. "He's in +his blackest form. I honestly pity Williams." + +"Swanson," said Clancy sharply. + +"What is it, Boss?" asked Swanson anxiously. + +"Nothing," snapped Clancy, "I want you to do something." + +"All right." + +"Williams is locked in my room. You watch the door. If he breaks out +kill him." + +He turned and stalked away like a man in a trance, leaving the big +shortstop staring after him. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + +_Found_ + +Technicalities Feehan was directing the hunt for Kohinoor McCarthy, the +missing third baseman of the Bears, even though it appeared to the two +women that he was wasting time. His easy confidence and certainty that +McCarthy would be found inspired something of the same spirit in Mrs. +Clancy and in Betty Tabor, and they found themselves enjoying the light +summer opera to which he had taken them, and later had laughed at his +quaint, droll tales of baseball and stories of his own experiences +during his long years of travel with the team. + +Feehan had found an appreciative audience at last, and it was half +after eleven before he broke off suddenly and announced that at +midnight he was to get reports of the results of the search and offer +his own services in the effort to find the missing player. + +"I will telephone you when I reach the office whether anything has been +ascertained," he promised, as he left them at their apartments. "After +that I will not disturb you until seven o'clock, unless McCarthy is +found. We must find him and get him to the station to catch the train +at 6.35 or our effort is wasted in so far as baseball is concerned, +although, of course, that will not cause us to cease our efforts." + +"You'll telephone me the moment you have news?" asked Miss Tabor. "Any +time--I shall not sleep much, any news--good--or bad." + +Feehan found the office force in the throes of getting out an edition, +and he sidled through the hurrying, jostling office force to the city +editor. + +"Any news?" he asked quietly. + +"Hello, Technicalities. Nothing yet. You take the case." + +Feehan hurried to his desk, instructed the telephone girls to connect +all reporters working on the McCarthy case with his desk, then +extracted a mass of papers from various pockets and commenced to study +and compile his unending statistics. + +The reporters engaged in the search were under instructions to report +at once any trace of the missing player and to report once an hour +their whereabouts and progress. Every five or ten minutes one +reported, and Feehan, laying aside his work, answered the call and +suggested new lines of investigations. + +Two o'clock came. The office was growing quieter. Weary news +gatherers slipped into their coats and departed quietly. Copy readers +and editors completed their tasks and went away. + +Three o'clock came, and Feehan was busy tabulating the statistics of +some player in a far-off league, when the telephone rang. By some +inspiration he knew a trail had been found and he reached for the +instrument with more haste than he had shown, his seventh sense +spurring him on. + +"Hello! Yes--that you, Jimmy?" + +"I've hit a trail." + +The voice was that of little Jimmy Eames, the most tireless and +persistent member of the force of news hounds employed by the paper. + +"Where?" Feehan was as calm as if only recording a fly out. + +"North Ninetieth Street Police Station," said Eames rapidly. "I picked +up a clue over on the other side of the city--inside police dope. Man +taken there last night in taxi. I'm off for there." + +Feehan pocketed his statistics and prepared for action. His voice had +ceased to drag. He uttered commands in sharp, quick words. Briefly he +detailed to each man as he called on the telephone the nature of +Eames's discovery. "Get to North Ninetieth Street Station." + +Thirty-five minutes after Eames flashed the first word to the office, +Cramer, the star police reporter, announced over the telephone. + +"McCarthy is in the black hole at North Ninetieth street. Orders from +captain. No one permitted to see him. Not booked. Sergeant in charge +don't know what he is accused of." + +"Get him out. Report in ten minutes." + +"Two hours and a half to get him out and put him on that train," Feehan +muttered. + +It was twelve minutes before Cramer called again. + +"Sergeant says he dares not turn the fellow loose. Don't know he is +McCarthy. Says orders are strict to keep him and to keep everyone away +from him." + +"Is he hurt?" + +"Turnkey says he has cut in head and bruised, but all right." + +"Pound him--pound the sergeant; make him act. Scare him! Who is the +captain?" + +"Raferty." + +"I'll reach him by 'phone." Feehan hung up the receiver. "Joe," he +said to the night man, "raise Minette, the office lawyer. Lives +somewhere up that way. His home is only a short distance from Judge +Manasse's house. Ask him for a writ of habeas corpus or something." + +Feehan was rapidly calling numbers. In fifteen minutes he had aroused +Captain Raferty. + +"Raferty," said the little man, "sorry to disturb you, but you've got a +man in the black hole in your station that we want." + +"Can't be done. Orders to hold him." + +"Orders from whom?" + +"Higher up." + +"How high?" + +"None of your business." + +"Raferty, I'm going to the top," said Feehan quickly. "If that man +isn't out by six o'clock, you'll be broken." + +"What's all this fuss about some skate?" Raferty was alarmed. "It +ain't any of my business. I'm told to hold him and not book him and I +do it. What have you got it in for me for?" + +"You'd better get to the station and get that man out or you'll have +this sheet all over you," threatened Feehan, transformed. "I'm going +higher now." + +He cut off the spluttering police captain in the midst of a snarling +complaint, half whine, half defiance. + +Half an hour of hard work brought the indignant superintendent of +police to the telephone. He curtly declined to interfere, denied all +knowledge of any such prisoner, and hung up the receiver while Feehan +was expostulating with him. + +The mild mannered, gentle little reporter was rising to the emergency. +He wiped his forehead free from the beads of sweat and looked at his +watch. It was two minutes to five when the night man reported again. + +"Minette's on his way to the station," he said. "He'll try to get +Judge Manasse to order the release, and he is carrying ten thousand +dollars in securities as a bond." + +"Good," said Feehan rapidly. "Give me Gracemont 1328," he called +quickly. + +"Going after the mayor?" inquired the night man casually. "He'll be +sore as a boil. Orders are not to disturb him after midnight." + +"I've got to get him," said Feehan. "We can't fall down now after +we've located McCarthy." + +There was no reply to the call for the mayor's telephone number, and +while waiting, Feehan slipped to another telephone and called the hotel +at which the ball players lived, asking for the Clancy apartments. +Betty Tabor answered the summons. + +"We've found him," said Feehan. "He's alive and well." + +"Where is he?" asked the girl breathlessly. + +"He's in a cell at the North Ninetieth Street Police Station--about +half a mile from your hotel. I want you to do something." + +"What is it?" she asked. "Hurry--I haven't undressed. Is there +anything I can do?" + +"Yes," he said. "He's locked up and we're tearing the town to pieces +trying to get him out of the station. It may be an hour--and he must +catch that train. Can you arrange at your hotel to have a fast taxi to +take him to the railroad station when he gets out, if there is a chance +to catch the train?" + +"Wait--yes, yes," she said eagerly. "The manager here has a fast +machine that he has been letting me use. I'll get it. The garage is +only a few doors." + +"You'll take him yourself?" he said in surprise. + +"Yes," she said. "I must hurry." + +Again and again Feehan urged the telephone girl to try to get a reply +to the call for the mayor. Beads of sweat stood upon his face, as he +begged her to try again and summoned the manager to his assistance. He +glanced at his watch. It was eight minutes to six o'clock. + +"I must get him," he told the telephone girl for the dozenth time. + +"Sorry--no one will answer," she said wearily. "I've tried--wait a +minute, there's someone now." + +"Hello," said a hearty voice. + +"Your Honor"--Feehan's voice was pregnant with pleading--"this is +Feehan, the baseball writer." + +"Hello, Feehan," came the quick response. "Why aren't you with the +team, or did you just get in to honor me with this early call?" + +"Your Honor," pleaded Feehan, recalling suddenly that the mayor was an +ardent baseball "fan." "I've been searching for McCarthy. He's in the +North Ninetieth Street Station, held without being booked. I've been +trying for hours to get him out so he can join the team." + +"What charge?" demanded the mayor sharply. + +"No charge. He is being held to keep him from playing. If he doesn't +catch this morning's train the pennant is lost." + +"Here's where I make a pinch hit, then," said the mayor sharply. + +Feehan heard the receiver bang down. With a sigh of relief he hung up +his receiver and grinned at Joe. + +"He's a baseball fan," was all the explanation he offered. + +An anxious wait ensued, then Cramer telephones: + +"McCarthy just got out, mayor's orders. Pretty well bunged up, but +says he can play. He's gone with some girl in an auto. She was +waiting for him." + +Feehan glanced at his watch. It was 6.23. + +"Twelve minutes for two and a half miles," he muttered. "They'll just +make it." + +And with a sigh he picked up his scattered sheets and muttered: + +"Let's see, what did this fellow Houseman hit last season?" + + + + +CHAPTER XXX + +_A Race to Save the Day_ + +Kohinoor McCarthy, emerging from his cell into the fetid atmosphere of +the receiving room of the police station, was met by Cramer, who broke +from the group of reporters, lawyers and police officials stirred to +activity at that early hour by the frantic efforts of Technicalities +Feehan. His head was rudely bandaged and his discolored face was +swollen and cut. + +There was no time for questionings. + +"Hurry, McCarthy," said Cramer. "There is an automobile outside +waiting to take you to the station. You have about a quarter of an +hour to catch the train." + +McCarthy, with a word of thanks, hastened through the station, leaped +down the steps with an agility that proved his injuries did not affect +his speed, and sprang to the car. + +The morning sun was just commencing to reach down into the cavern of +the street into which the car leaped, and it shone directly in their +eyes. The car lurched around a corner and swung into the avenue for +the race to the station. At that instant the girl's veil flapped back, +revealing her face. + +"Betty!" exclaimed McCarthy. "You"---- + +"You didn't know me?" she asked as she steadied the car and increased +its pace over the smooth asphalt. + +"Why are you here? What are you doing?" he asked in astonishment. + +"I had to come," she replied swiftly. "There was no one else. We must +catch the train. Don't talk, please." + +He leaned back wearily and watched the street as it seemed to flow past +them. + +"How much time have we?" he asked above the roaring of the wind. + +"The train leaves at 6.35," she called back, without lifting her eyes. +"Watch for clocks." + +She had increased the speed gradually and the light car jumped as it +struck a cross-town street-car track. Suddenly the car jolted, slid to +a quick stop and with an exclamation of despair the girl strove to +reverse and killed the engine. + +"The street is closed below," she said. "Crank up, the engine is dead." + +McCarthy leaped from the car and cranked rapidly. A precious minute +was lost before the engine throbbed and the girl, turning the car +quickly, ran back a block, swung across to a side street and raced for +the station. + +"The captain of the bell boys is waiting with the tickets. I sent him +before I left the hotel," she said without lifting her eyes. "Jump +from the car the moment I stop. He'll meet you at the gate." + +"Two minutes--can we make it?" he asked. + +"We'll try." Her face was set and white. She whirled the corner of +the avenue onto the side street at full speed. A block and a half away +was the station. The car was at racing speed now. The girl kept the +siren screaming, hoping for a clear way. They tore toward the +intersection of the streets--and directly ahead a lumbering team of +horses, drawing a heavy wagon, trundled across their path. With a +sudden swerve, a grinding of the emergency and a sickening lurch, the +car checked its mad flight, scraped past the rear of the wagon, and +gathering speed renewed the race against time. + +"Goodbye," he said, leaning suddenly inward as the car commenced to +lose momentum. "When I come back"---- + +"Hurry, hurry," she pleaded. "Run"---- + +He leaped before the car stopped and, with one glance back toward her, +sprinted down the long passageway. + +The gate was closing. He cried aloud, and ran faster. The gate +clanged. A boy in uniform ran to him and shoved tickets into his hands +as they ran side by side. + +"Open it! Let me through!" he screamed at the gateman, just starting +to lock the gate. + +McCarthy was sprinting desperately in pursuit of the train already half +way down the long train shed. He ran until his heart pounded audibly +against his ribs, straining every muscle, and crying for the train to +stop. Faster and faster it went, and, near the end of the station, +McCarthy realized he had lost the race and, stopping, he stood +dejectedly looking after the rapidly disappearing observation car. + +The gateman let him out with a sympathetic word, but he did not raise +his head. He knew that, 235 miles away, twenty men were hoping for his +arrival. He would hire a special train. He whirled at the +thought--and then remembered he was without money. + +He felt a hand touch his arm and, turning quickly, he saw Betty Tabor. + +"I missed it," he said, hopelessly. + +"I know, I know," she responded quickly. "The boy who had the tickets +told me. There is no time to lose. I have a plan." + +"A special train?" he asked. "I have no money." + +"The auto," she replied quickly. "I will drive it. I've driven it +hundreds of miles"---- + +"Betty," he expostulated, using her name unconsciously. "You +cannot--maybe we can find a driver." + +"I can and I will," she said decisively; "it is only 235 miles. We +have eight hours. We can make it. The car is fast and easy to handle." + +Still arguing, she led him back to the car, and they rode quickly back +to the hotel over part of the route they had traversed during their +wild flight. They breakfasted while the car was being prepared for the +run, studying road maps while they ate. + +"Betty, how can I ever thank you," he said, leaning forward over the +table. + +"By calling me Miss Tabor and winning the game to-day," she said, +coolly, without looking up from the maps. + +"The car is ready," the head waiter announced. "A good trip to you, +Miss Tabor." + +"You have a good driver, McCarthy," said the manager, who alone knew +the object of the trip. "She handles that car better than I do. I +have given her permission to tear it to pieces to get you through." + +The start was undramatic. The car rolled easily along to the drive and +presently was lifting and dropping over the hills of the splendid +speedway. A gentle breeze from the river fanned them as they rushed +through it. + +In five minutes they were clear of the congested traffic on the bridge +and the car, gathering speed, rushed into the hills on the opposite +side of the river. Five minutes later the car was quivering with its +increasing speed and McCarthy, looking at the gauge, saw that it +registered forty-seven miles, and was still sliding forward. Fourteen +miles across the rolling plateau the car raced with sustained speed, +the engine humming in perfect tune and only the heavier vibration of +the tires attesting the speed. At slower pace the car climbed among +the ridge of hills that had been rising ahead, and after five miles of +rougher going it turned into the old stage road. + +"It's five minutes past nine," said the girl, "and we've done more than +forty miles already. The next forty is good and we'll try to gain +time." + +"We ought to make it easily," he responded brightly. "You're a +heroine." + +"I do not know what the roads are beyond Hedgeport," she interrupted +anxiously. "It is hill country. It rained two days ago." + +She had steadily increased the speed again until the indicator kept +constantly around the forty-five mile mark. The speed was terrific and +made conversation almost impossible. + +"Hadn't you better rest? You must be tired," he screamed above the +noise of the car. + +"Arms are cramped," she replied, without lifting her eyes from the road +ahead. "We'll take gas at Hedgeport and walk around. We will lunch +somewhere near Hilton. We'll be over the worst of the road then." + +"I wish I could help you," called McCarthy, after a long silence. + +She shook her head, and, after the car had throbbed up the next incline +and was sailing, hawklike, down the opposite side, she said: + +"You'll need your strength for the game. There's Hedgeport now." + +Before them, set on the hillside, lay the little city. It seemed as if +the houses grew by magic as they rushed upon it. They flashed past a +few market wagons, passed another auto chugging along busily, and +slackened the pace as the car rolled upon the brick pavements and +toward the heart of the city. + +"A hundred and thirty-one miles in a little over three hours," said +McCarthy, elated. "That leaves us one hundred and four miles and more +than four hours to make it in. We've won." + +"The road has been perfect," Betty Tabor said. "For the next fifty +miles it is marked bad." + +She turned quietly to ask questions of the mechanician, who was +overhauling and examining every part of the machine, and examining the +feed pipes. Another man was filling the tanks and using oil +plentifully. + +"My hands and wrists are cramped and numb," she remarked, turning to +McCarthy. + +"Let the man drive the rest of the way. He knows the road," he urged. + +"And leave me--to miss the game?" she asked. "Not much. Rub my hands, +please." + +She extended her strong, firm hand and McCarthy, bending over it, +massaged and slapped it vigorously. + +"Don't break it, please," she said, laughing. "Take the other one." + +"Both," he whispered, his voice full of meaning. + +"All ready," announced the garage keeper. "I think she'll stand it +now." + +"It's 11.10," said McCarthy. "If we get there by three." + +"If we get there at all," she said, "even if you are late, you can get +into the game." + +For five miles they sped along over perfect roads, then suddenly a long +stretch of new macadam loomed ahead. For three miles they lurched and +struggled, and were free again, but the road was heavy and slow. Up +hill and down they fought the road, at times slipping, lurching and +skidding while the girl coaxed the car onward. The road grew worse and +worse. The hills were steeper. The rain-guttered mud at times almost +stalled the car. + +"Twenty miles in an hour and ten minutes," groaned McCarthy. "This +won't do." + +The next hour was even worse. The girl was showing signs of weariness +and the strain of holding the machine in the rough going. Three miles +of good road across a hill-top plateau raised their courage, then they +encountered sand. + +It was twenty minutes to two o'clock, when, mud splattered, they raced +into Hilton, with the car missing fire in one cylinder, the engine +smoking and gasoline almost exhausted. + +McCarthy almost lifted Betty Tabor from the car as they stopped at the +garage and she gave rapid directions to the manager, explaining the +need of haste. + +"I'm afraid the car won't get you through," he said, "but we'll try." + +"Have it ready at two o'clock," she ordered quickly. "We must get +through somehow." + +"It's thirty-four miles," he said. "But the roads are fair. If the +car was in shape it would be easy." + +"We'll eat lunch while you overhaul it," she replied. + +McCarthy secured the lunch from the car and they spread it upon the +grass in the yard and ate. The girl was too weary for conversation, +but as she ate she seemed to gain strength and courage. + +"We'll get there before the game is over, anyhow," she said quietly. +"I want to see Williams's face when you come onto the field." + +"I thought you and he"---- + +"I never have liked him," she interrupted quickly. + +Three minutes before the town clock chimed the hour of two in Hilton, +the machine, again running smoothly, shot out from the garage. Its +occupants, refreshed and more cheerful, faced the final stretch of the +long race. + +"Fourteen miles in twenty-one minutes," cried McCarthy, as the mile +posts flashed by. "We'll be there." + +[Illustration: "FOURTEEN MILES IN TWENTY-ONE MINUTES"] + +Ten minutes later the smoke haze that hangs eternally over the great +city of the Blues was visible. The country homes along the road over +which they sped were closer and closer together. + +"Only ten more miles," McCarthy shouted triumphantly. + +"We can cut across to the west here," she said as she swung the car +into an avenue. "This goes near the ball park and we'll save three +miles." + +"Hurray," he shouted. "Then it's only seven miles." + +The girl did not reply. She was weary and her fair face showed haggard +lines. Their progress became slower, although two or three times +policemen turned to watch them, as if to interfere. + +The grandstand was close now. The steady roar of the huge crowd inside +pulsed and beat upon them. A bell rang. + +"That's either game time or last fielding practice," screamed McCarthy. +"Hurry, please, hurry." + +The car suddenly swung out of the line, sent a swarm of pedestrians +scurrying, and jarred to a stop at the entrance marked "Players." + +"Betty," said McCarthy, as he started to lift her from the car---- + +"Hurry," she said, faint from weariness and the reaction. "You must +dress." + +He ran stiffly toward the dressing room under the stand. Bill Tascott, +the umpire, was just starting toward the field. + +"McCarthy!" he exclaimed at sight of the specter covered with mud and +with cut and bruised features. + +"Bill, don't start the game yet," panted McCarthy beseechingly. "Wait +till I dress. Please tell Clancy I'm here." + +"I'll tell him. I'll delay the game. Can you play?" said the umpire +rapidly. + +"Yes--give me time to dress." + +Jack, the trainer, quiet after his first outburst of surprise, was +preparing the hot shower and working like mad over the weary player and +when Clancy, summoned by a quiet word from the umpire, rushed into the +player's room, McCarthy was sighing luxuriously as the trainer soaked +his weary, cramped limbs with witch hazel. + +"Hurry, Jack," ordered Clancy as he squeezed McCarthy's hands. "I knew +you'd come, Kohinoor." + +"Am I in time?" asked the player. "Get my uniform out, please." + +"Just in time. Good old Bill Tascott is delaying the game. You ought +to see him raising cain over his mask being lost. He hid it in our +bench and is accusing the Blues of stealing it. He won't start the +game until you are ready." + +In five minutes they rushed him toward the little gate by which the +players enter the field from under the stands, just in time to hear +Bill Tascott announce: + +"Batteries for to-day's game--Wiley and Kirkpatrick for the Blues; +Williams and Kennedy for the Bears." He glanced toward the group +emerging from under the stands and his voice rang with gladness as he +yelled, in louder tones: + +"McCarthy will play third base." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI + +_The Plotters Foiled_ + +The gasp of astonishment with which the crowd greeted the announcement +that Williams would pitch gave way quickly to a cry of surprise that +rose to a roar of applause when Bill Tascott announced that McCarthy +would play third base. + +He walked slowly out toward third base, the huge arm of Swanson, who +with a bellow of gladness had raced to meet and embrace him, around his +shoulders, while the great crowd stood and howled with excitement and +hummed with curiosity as to the explanation of his reappearance. Had +Clancy tricked the Blues and produced his third baseman at the dramatic +instant, hoping to unnerve them? Had McCarthy been hurt? A thousand +conjectures and questions flashed around the field. + +The announcement by Bill Tascott was a double shock to two persons +sitting in one of the front boxes near the Bears' bench. Barney +Baldwin brought his fat hand down with a thump upon the shoulders of +the rat-faced, cold-eyed man who sat next to him, and shouted, "I told +you so!" + +Easy Ed Edwards, paler than usual, turned angrily toward the +politician, restrained himself, and resumed his steady scrutiny of the +field. When the umpire announced McCarthy playing third, Baldwin, in +his astonishment, half arose and Edwards started quickly. + +"Sit down, you fool," he said sharply. "We're in enough trouble +without you giving us away. Clancy was watching us from the bench. +They're wise to you." + +"To me!" ejaculated Baldwin. "I like your nerve"---- + +"You're the only one they can connect with McCarthy's--accident," he +said coldly. "There'll be h---- to pay at home." + +McCarthy's head was bandaged afresh, strips of court-plaster decorated +his face, and even from the stands the black bruises around his eyes +were visible. + +Nearly forty thousand persons were watching, unaware of the full +meaning of the complex drama they were witnessing. McCarthy was so +astonished at hearing that Williams was pitching that he turned to +Swanson. + +"What does it mean, Silent?" he asked anxiously. + +"Clancy made him pitch," whispered Swanson rapidly as they went toward +the bench. "He has had him locked in his room all day and Williams is +scared stiff. Look at him." + +The pitcher was white to the mouth, and he licked his lips nervously as +if in a fever, as he sat during the first inning while his own team +endeavored to make a run. Clancy, his face hard, sat next to him, +terrible in his rigidity. + +Three of the Bears retired in rapid order and the team raced for the +field. A roar of applause greeted them, and as McCarthy ran along in +front of the stands, the applause followed him like a wave. It was +clear some hint of the truth was spreading through the crowd. Williams +hung back when the team started for the field. + +"I can't, Bill. Oh, God, I can't," he wailed. "Please"---- + +"Get out there and pitch! Pitch whatever Kennedy signals for, and if +you don't"---- + +"I'll try, Bill. But if"---- + +"There are no ifs," snarled the manager, half rising. + +Williams walked to his position, a glare of terror in his eyes, as if +he contemplated flight. He was wild and erratic at the start. Two +balls sailed wide from the plate, and Swanson ran to him. + +"Get that next one over or I'll signal Clancy," he said. + +Williams put every ounce of power into his throwing arm, and the ball +cut the heart of the plate, jumping. + +"The old hop on it!" yelled McCarthy. "That's pitching, Adonis; that's +pitching." + +Williams stood staring toward him as if dumfounded. A grateful look +came into his eyes. + +"Now the old hook, Adonis," yelled McCarthy. "Something on every one +to-day, remember!" + +An outburst of cheering arose from the crowd. Those who had heard or +read the stories and rumors of the enmity between the two thought they +recognized the magnanimity of the third baseman and admired him. +Another strike whizzed over the plate, and a fast ball hopped while the +batter swung. The strike out was greeted with a howl of applause. +Williams glanced toward the stands. His eyes met those of Edwards +fixed upon him, and his nerve broke. He pitched without looking to see +what Kennedy signaled, and "Sacred" White, the center fielder of the +Blues, drove the ball to left center for three bases. Kennedy gave a +quick glance at Clancy, who sat staring straight ahead. Swanson rushed +upon Williams, who, trembling with fear, waved him back. He pitched +desperately, but Wertheim hit a long fly to center and "Sacred" White +scampered home. + +"I didn't do it, Bill. Honestly, I didn't," pleaded Williams, as he +returned to the bench and resumed his seat next to the manager. + +"Williams," said Clancy coldly, "you pitched without a signal. I've +got men in the stands to pass circulars telling exactly what you have +done. If that happens again I'll signal them, and when the crowd gets +you, may the Lord have mercy"---- + +"I'll pitch--I was trying," begged the pitcher. "Don't turn the crowd +loose on me. They'll kill me." + +"Then win," ordered Clancy. + +The fifth came with the score 1 to 0 and Wiley pitching at his best. +Williams had lost some of his nervousness. Either he had made up his +mind to betray Edwards, and strive to win, or he was pitching, as he +thought, for his life. His fast ball was cutting the plate, and even +when the Blues hit it they popped the ball into the air for easy outs. +The last half of the fifth started. Williams, glancing toward the +stand as he walked out to the slab, saw Edwards. Edwards made a quick +signal with his hand and turned his face away. Williams went to the +slab entirely unnerved. He was wild, and a base on balls gave the +Blues another opening. Instantly Swanson charged upon him and renewed +his threats, and Williams, after pitching two more balls wild, got one +over the plate, and Henderson sacrificed, putting Hickman on second. +Kirkpatrick drove a hard bounder at Norton, who fumbled, recovered, +threw wild and Malone scored. + +McCarthy was feeling deadly weary. The racking ride in the automobile, +the injuries received at the hands of Edwards and his prize-fighter +employe, the loss of sleep and the anxiety, added to the strain of the +game, had sapped his youthful vitality. Williams, under the dire +threats of Clancy, Kennedy and Swanson, was pitching steadily. He was +inspired now by a new hope: That he might lose the game and not be +blamed for defeat and at the same time escape the vengeance of Edwards +by pretending he lost it purposely. + +"We ought to get at him this time, boys," called Swanson, as the Bears +opened their eighth inning. "We've got to. Look out there--at the +score board--the Panthers are winning, 4 to 1, and it means the +pennant." + +Suddenly Noisy Norton, the silent man, sprang to his feet and rushed to +the coaching lines. + +"Wow! Little of the old pep, boys!" he yelled. + +"Whoop! We've got it won now. Noisy is coaching. Come on, boys--get +at them!" yelled Swanson. + +Out by first base, Norton, who had never been on the coaching lines in +the five years he had played with the Bears, was ranting and screaming +like a wild man. The spirit of the thing came over the Bears. +Kennedy, rushing to the bat, cracked the first ball that Wiley pitched +to center for a single. A moment later little McBeth, who had been +fretting his soul out on the bench for three months, leaped toward the +bat like a hound unleashed. He never had played in a major league game +before, and Wiley teased him into swinging at two slow twisters, then +attempted to waste a curve high and outside the plate. The boy, his +teeth set, waded into the ball, drove it over third for a base hit, +and, with runners on first and third, Swanson came rushing up and drove +a line single to left that scored Kennedy and sent the speedy little +McBeth scurrying around to third. + +McCarthy was coming to bat. He swung two bats, testing their weight, +and walked toward the plate. The excitement of the rally had revived +his waning strength and stirred his jaded nerves. Swanson signaled his +intention to steal on the first ball pitched. McCarthy crouched, and +as the ball came he swung viciously at it, not intending to hit it, but +to give Swanson the advantage by hampering the catcher. The strike was +wasted, as the catcher, knowing the speed of McBeth, bluffed at +throwing, and held the ball, hoping to lure the substitute off third +base and let Swanson reach second without trouble. + +The next ball McCarthy fouled against the stands for a second strike. +A great dread came over him as he heard the roar of the crowd. He +turned to watch the Blue's catcher recover the ball, and at that +instant he saw the face of Betty Tabor, strained, white, beseeching, as +the girl, still mud-splattered and stained from the long race, leaned +forward. Her face revealed all the hopes and fears that surged within +her. As McCarthy's heart leaped with grim resolve he saw another face +that caused him to step back out of the batter's box and, while +pretending to rub dirt upon his hands, to glance again. + +James Lawrence, his uncle and guardian, was sitting in the box next to +that in which Betty Tabor was voicelessly beseeching him to win the +game. + +"Hit it, Larry--hit it!" + +The sound of the name called by the familiar voice, the sight of the +agony in the girl's face, spurred him to desperation. He delayed, +wiped his hands carefully, stepped into position and waited. Wiley +wound up. A fast curve flashed toward the plate. McCarthy took one +step forward, snapped his bat against the ball. The Blues' third +baseman leaped wildly, stuck up one hand, the ball went on, struck two +feet inside the foul line, and before it ceased rolling around the +stands two runs were across the plate. McCarthy was on third, and the +Bears were in the lead. + +The inning ended with McCarthy still on third, and the score 3 to 2 in +favor of the Bears. + +Wilcox, who had been kept warmed up during the entire game, ready to +rush to the slab if Williams weakened, went in to pitch and held the +Blues in the eighth, and in their ninth the Bears drew a blank. + +McCarthy knew he was very weary. Only by his will power did he make +his tired, aching limbs obey his brain. He ached in every muscle, and +his brain seemed dulled. Gallagher hit a long fly to Pardridge. +Swanson was still shouting, urging Wilcox to cinch the victory, +encouraging, leading, fighting with every nerve for the victory. +Henderson drove a two-base hit to center field, and Swanson redoubled +his efforts to brace the team against a rally that might rob them of +their victory. Kirkpatrick, a dangerous hitter at any time, drove a +fast bounder at Norton. The little second baseman set himself for the +ball. It took a bad bounce, struck his wrist and rolled away only a +few feet. He was after it in an instant, but he knew that +Kirkpatrick's terrific speed would get him to first ahead of the ball. +As Norton's fingers gripped the ball he thought of another play. +Henderson would go to third on the fumble, turn the base, look to see +where the ball was, and if it had broken through the infield far +enough, he would try to score. For an instant, Norton knew, the runner +would halt, undecided, six feet from third, and if the ball was +there---- Without looking, Norton hurled the ball toward third. +McCarthy saw it coming. He realized the play that Norton had attempted +to make to save the day. He grabbed the ball and dived desperately +between the runner and the bag. Henderson, trapped, leaped back toward +the base, feet first. McCarthy felt the shock of the collision, felt +the spikes bite into his arm, and he held his ground, blocking the +runner away. He heard Bill Tascott's cry of "Out!" and, dazed, hurt +and dizzy, he arose slowly and tossed the ball back to Wilcox. +Trentman, the great pinch hitter of the Blues, was sent in to attempt +to snatch victory from defeat. Twice he drove fierce line fouls past +third base, then he lifted a high foul and, as the ball settled into +Kennedy's mitt, McCarthy swayed upon his feet. + +"Help me, Silent; I'm all in." + +Through the eddying, shouting, scrambling crowd that had swarmed +cheering upon the field, Swanson half led, half carried his exhausted +mate. + +They had pressed close to the exit to the club dressing rooms, when +suddenly a great shout smote the air. A tremor of fresh excitement ran +through the crowd. + +"What is it, Silent?" asked McCarthy anxiously. + +"It's the Scoreboard!" yelled Swanson. "Look! The Jackrabbits scored +five in the eighth inning and beat the Panthers out, 6 to 4. Boy, +we're champions!" + +McCarthy did an odd thing. He slid quietly to the ground in a faint, +and they carried him to the dressing rooms. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII + +_Rejoicing_ + +McCarthy slept the deep, dreamless sleep of exhaustion. He slept all +the way during the homeward journey, waking refreshed and only a trifle +stiff when he was called early in the morning to disembark. He and +Swanson rode to the hotel in a taxicab, anxious to escape from the +crowds that gathered to witness the arrival of the champions after +their sensational victory. + +"Don't run," urged Swanson, "I'm a hog for punishment of this kind. I +could stand around all year and let these people cheer me. It sounds +good after what I've heard them say. See that big fellow, yelling his +head off, there? He's the same one that yelled 'rotten' at me for two +months in the middle of the season." + +"Let's have breakfast up in the room," urged McCarthy. "Get them to +send up all the morning papers. I want to read what they say about the +game." + +"They say enough, judging from the headlines," replied Swanson. "Let's +eat down here and bask in the admiration of these fellows who have been +calling us dubs. Pose for them, Kohinoor! You're a hero! Don't you +know a hero has to stand on his pedestal all day and smile? Smile, +darn you!" + +In spite of the giant's good-natured badinage they hurried to their +rooms and ordered breakfast and newspapers. + +"They've got most of the story," said McCarthy. "They have written a +lot of guff about---- Oh, they make a heroine out of Miss Tabor. Look +at her picture. Where did they get it? I never had one." + +"Get the original," said Swanson gruffly, his mouth full of toast. +"See this: Easy Ed Edwards has run. He skipped before the game was +over, and the paper says he has carried off a hundred thousand dollars +in money that was bet with him and is fleeing to Europe." + +"Williams made his getaway, too," said McCarthy, eagerly scanning the +papers. + +"Where did he go? I saw him slide off the bench in the eighth while we +were scoring and start toward the club house. Guess he was afraid of +Edwards." + +"Darn the luck," growled Swanson. "Here's all that stuff about Kennedy +and me being licked in the saloon. The whole story is out." + +"There's one thing I want to find out," said Swanson, clenching his +fist. "And that is who the big guy was that Edwards hired as his +slugger. The season won't be complete until I hook this old grounder +grabber of mine on his jaw." + +"I've got a bit of business," announced McCarthy, after an hour of +excited conversation. + +"Wait till she gets through breakfast," insinuated Swanson insultingly. +"Going to desert your old pal for a skirt so soon?" + +"Aw, shut up," said McCarthy. "I've got to thank her, haven't I?" + +Swanson was silent for an instant. A serious expression came over his +homely, good-natured face. + +"I hope you win her, Kohinoor," he said, simply, putting his big arm +across McCarthy's shoulders. "You deserve her--I wanted her myself, +once." + +Without another word he went over and sat down, picking up a paper, and +McCarthy, walking to him, said: + +"I'm sorry, Silent, maybe"---- + +"No maybe about it," said Swanson without looking up, "I lost, long +ago." + +McCarthy descended two flights of stairs and knocked timidly at the +door of the Clancy apartments. He expected to find Betty Tabor with +Mrs. Clancy, but the girl was alone, the Clancys not having finished +their breakfast. + +"Betty," he exclaimed, taking both her outstretched hands, "Betty--I +had to come--I wanted to tell you--I love you." + +"Oh," she said in surprise, "I"---- + +His arm slipped around her waist and he drew her close. + +"I have loved you from the first," he said, pleadingly. "I wanted to +tell you yesterday. I thought you cared then; you do care for me, +don't you?" + +"Yes, Larry," she said softly, hiding her face. "I think I have--from +the first." + +"From the first--the very first, dearest?" he asked tenderly. "From +the day we met--years ago?" + +"Years ago?" she asked in surprise. "Then you are? Yes, you are; you +must be the little boy who was crying in the train? I knew when you +came with the club we had met somewhere, and I could not remember +where." + +"Did you remember the little boy?" he asked. + +"Yes, Larry," she said "I never have forgotten. I used to pray for him +every night; that he might be happy in his new home. I kept the +picture of him that was taken at Portland and I often have thought of +him." + +"It must have been meant that we should meet, dearest," he whispered. + +"Yes, Larry," she replied softly. + +He kissed her and held her close. + +"Larry!" he exclaimed. "Where did you learn my name, sweetheart?" + +"The old gentleman in the box next to us at the game called you +Larry--and it seemed to fit you better than Jim does." She laughed. + +"He is my uncle--my father, almost. You will meet him soon, and then I +will explain how I became McCarthy." + +At that instant Manager Clancy and his wife entered abruptly, followed +by Technicalities Feehan. Betty Tabor blushed and struggled to +extricate herself from McCarthy's arms, but he held her close and +announced: + +"Betty has just promised to become my wife." + +A shower of congratulation followed, and Mrs. Clancy became so excited +she dropped her fancy work and kissed both, then kissed Feehan, and +that surprised reporter dropped his precious manuscript in his +embarrassment. + +A few moments after McCarthy left his room to make the call that +resulted in his happiness being established, Swanson was aroused from +his reverie by insistent rapping upon the door, and in response to his +welcoming cry, a tall, slender old man with bristling moustache, +stormed into the apartment. + +"Where's that young scoundrel who calls himself McCarthy?" he demanded, +brandishing his cane threateningly. + +"Hello, grandpaw," said Swanson. "Who dealt you a hand?" + +"You're another one of those rascally ballplayers!" charged the man +violently. "I know you--you've been leading my nephew into all sorts +of wild scrapes, disgracing the family"---- + +"You Kohinoor's uncle?" howled Swanson joyously as he sprang up and +seized the old gentleman with a bear hug and waltzed him around. +"Welcome to our fair city, uncle. I adopt you right now. Kohinoor is +my chum. How does it seem to be the uncle of a hero?" + +"Release me, you scoundrel," puffed the uncle. "Release me or I'll +cane you! Where is he?" + +"Truth is, uncle, he's gone skirting," said Swanson, releasing his +victim. + +"Gone where?" asked the uncle. + +"Skirting--calling on a girl--and between you and me, uncle, he's got +the best chance to win her, and she's worth winning." + +"What, another?" demanded the uncle. "Then he hasn't eloped with that +blond niece of that crook, Baldwin?" + +"Not on your life," said Swanson, "he's won the best little girl in the +world." + +In five minutes they were laughing and chatting like old friends, and +the uncle was boasting of his nephew's prowess at baseball. + +"Hang it," he stormed, "I ought to cane him, the young rascal, for +treating me this way. He never let me know he was playing, and I only +got to see one game. But wasn't that a--what do you call it--a corker?" + +"Let's go to them," proposed Swanson. + +And into the tableau of congratulations that was being presented in the +Clancy apartment Swanson burst, leading the old gentleman, who was +struggling to smile and to be angry at the same time. + +"Look who's here," he shouted. "Kohinoor's uncle, and from the looks +of things he has arrived just at the right minute to give his blessing." + +"Uncle Jim," exclaimed McCarthy, stepping forward quickly. + +"Larry, you young rascal!--Larry"---- + +His voice broke and tears rolled down his cheeks as he put his arm +around the boy's neck and wept. "Larry, you young scoundrel, what did +you mean by running away from your old uncle?" + +"Uncle Jim," said McCarthy seriously, as he put his arm around the old +man's waist, "I was a fool. I found it out and I was coming home to +tell you I was wrong and beg you to forgive me, but I could not leave +the team when it needed me. I was only a foolish boy. If you can +forgive"---- + +"It's all right now, Larry, boy," said the old man, wiping his eyes and +laughing happily. "I was certain you'd come to your senses and find +you didn't love that girl." + +"I am certain you will not object to the young lady I am going to +marry, Uncle Jim"---- + +"Marry!" cried Mr. Lawrence angrily. "Nonsense! You're not going to +marry anyone! Here we just make up and you want to start the quarrel +all over again. Marry? You young scoundrel! You're going to stay at +home with me"---- + +"Don't say that until you meet her, Uncle Jim," and, putting his arm +around Betty Tabor's waist, he said, "Uncle Jim, I want you to meet +Miss Betty Tabor, who has just honored me by promising to become my +wife." + +"Why, bless my heart! Bless my heart!" exclaimed the old man in +surprise. "If it isn't the young woman who sat in the box next to me +at the game! I fell in love with you, my dear, when you applauded +Larry. Marry her? If you don't marry her, you young rascal, I'll cut +you off in my will. Not a penny, you understand--not a penny." + +He kissed Betty Tabor gallantly while the others laughed and he bowed +low over Mrs. Clancy's hand as Kohinoor presented him to the manager +and his wife. + +"Are you the Mr. Lawrence they call the Lumber King in Oregon?" +inquired Clancy, as he shook hands. + +"They call me that out there," said the old man, testily. "Call +themselves democratic--then King everyone who makes a few dollars--bah." + +"Oh," exclaimed Miss Tabor, in sudden alarm. "Then Larry is rich?" + +"Never mind that, sweetheart," he said, consolingly. "We can live on +my baseball salary if Uncle Jim cuts us off." + +"Cut you off, nonsense!" the old man exclaimed testily. "You'll have +all my money if you behave yourself and obey me. Young scoundrel never +would obey me." + +"I've learned to obey in baseball, uncle," replied Kohinoor seriously. +"Ask Mr. Clancy if I haven't." + +"I'm so glad, Larry," said Miss Tabor brightly, "that you asked me +before I knew you were going to be rich." + +"Young rascal must have learned some sense," growled his uncle. "He +picked out just the girl I wanted him to. When I saw you at the game, +my dear, I said to myself: 'Now if Larry would only choose a girl like +that, I'd make her my daughter.'" + +"You're the worst flatterer of them all--Mr.--Lawrence," said the girl, +blushing and laughing. + +"You must call me Uncle Jim, my dear," he insisted in his most +tyrannical tones. "And understand, Miss, I'm boss of this family." + +"By the way, Kirkland," said Technicalities Feehan, who had been busily +engaged studying some statistics he had taken from his pocket, "what +did you hit the last year you were at Cascade College?" + +"Kirkland?" exclaimed Miss Tabor. "Then your name isn't James +Lawrence?" + +"I forgot," he responded, laughing at her bewilderment. "Your name +will be Mrs. James Lawrence Kirkland; I was named for Uncle Jim. How +did you find it out?" he added, turning to Feehan. + +"I knew it the second day you were with the Bears," replied Feehan. "I +have all your records, excepting those of your final year at the +university. Did you hit .332 or .318? The records do not agree." + +Ten days later, on the night after the Bears triumphantly won the +World's Championship, there was a jolly party in the banquet hall of +one of the great hotels. Jimmy McCarthy was giving a farewell dinner +to his friends and comrades of the Bear team. The dinner had been +eaten, the toasts to the team and its manager drunk, and McCarthy arose. + +"Boys," he said, "I'm not going to try to make a speech. I want to +thank you all for your kindness to the tramp who came to you when he +needed friends. And now my uncle has a little announcement to make +which I know you all will be glad to hear." + +A round of applause greeted the testy old gentleman as he arose, +scolding his nephew for calling upon him. In the ten days that he had +traveled with them he had become the idol of the Bears, and he proudly +claimed credit for their victories, declared he was their mascot, and +called each one by his first name. + +"Nothing at all. Just a little matter," he said, testily. "Young +rascal shouldn't have mentioned it. All it amounts to is that +yesterday I bought Baldwin's stock in this ball club. He's a disgrace +to the business. I made him sell out. I'm holding the stock for +Clancy. He can have it at the price I paid any time he gets the money. +Just bought it to get that crook, Baldwin, out." + +He sat down amid a riot of cheering, while Clancy, who had not been +informed of the deal, arose and stammered his bewildered thanks, as he +strove to realize that a fortune had been thrust upon him. When the +excitement had died down and a toast to Mr. Lawrence had been proposed +and drunk standing, Betty Tabor, flushed, and appearing prettier than +ever, arose. + +"Boys," she said, in her low, steady tones, "I have an important +announcement to make, one which, I believe, will please you almost as +well as the one we just heard did." + +She hesitated and smiled down upon her future husband, who sat beside +her. + +"Boys," she continued, after a moment, "I have consented to permit +Larry to play ball with you next season, if he will allow me to travel +with the team at least one trip." + +Noisy Norton sprang upon his chair, his glass held aloft and cried: + +"To the bride, the groom and another pennant." + + + + +THE END. + + + + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Jimmy Kirkland and the Plot for a +Pennant, by Hugh S. 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