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f L '• •• i;l& Like flash McCarthy leaped sideways, touched the other runner, who was starting back to second base, and, with a fierce dive, threw his body between the base and the runner, who had overslid it, and tagged him.* SYNOPSIS OF PRECEDING CHAPTERS he said stead- If you care T HE »econd week In September finds the Panthers and Bears nearing: the end of a bitter struggle for the baseball cham pionship. The four-game series they are to play will probably decide the question of supremacy. Through an accident the Bears lose the services of the-lr heaviest hitter and speediest base-run ner. and they lose the first game. That evening a stranger calls at the hotel where the Bears are stopping and asks for Manager Clancy. He is Insulted by Adonis Williams, the chib's stai pitcher, and threatens to whip him. Betty Tabor, the club's secretary s daughter, intervenes and directs the stranger to Manager Clancy. As a result At the inter view. the stranger Is signed to fill the gap In the Bear team and his gklU as a pinch-hitter lu the second game, wins it for the Bears. Ho la dubbed "Kohlnoor" McCarthy. The enmity between Williams and McCarthy Increase* as a result of the success of the Bears' new ruarult. On the train which Is bearing the Bears away from the Panther's city, McCarthy surprises hla leam-niates by his fine singing voice. He is warmly congratulated by Betty, the secretary's daughter, and the next morning Betty lnvlt*® him to Join her at breakfast. L*ater in the day Pitcher Williams warns “Kohlnoor" to keep away from Betty declaring that the young lady is going to be hi* wife. ‘'Kohlnoor," feeling very blue at this news, repeats the conversation to his particular chum Swanson, the team's great fighting shortstop and is told that while Williams has been crazy about Betty for three years, she has no use for him. McCarthy falls asleep to the music of the car wheels which seemed to him to say over and over again: “She isn't engaged: she isn't engaged, she isnt’ engaged " "Easy Ed" Edwards, the gambler, makes a proposition for Williams to throw the champion ship to the F'anthera *“ | * “ “ blame Continued from Last Sunday in such will rest on McCarty. way that the “C Copyright, 19121, by the Star Company. CHAPTER VII. A Note from Helen. ’OMK to the hotel parlor at eight this evening. 1 wlifti to see you." The note, hastily scribbled on hotel letter paper, waa awaiting him when Kohlnoor Mc Carthy entered the hotel after the disastrous game which had been lost chiefly because of his errors. He recognized the angular scrawled writing at a glance, yet the tone of the brief communication puzzled and Irri tated him. Since the moment hts eyes had met those of Helen Baldwin during the game he had been thinking hard with conflicting emotions. Her behavior had hurt him and the thought that she deliberately had refused to recognize him stung hU pride. Perhaps, he argued with himself, she had heard that he was playing Incognito and had cut him to avoid revealing the fact that she knew him. The note proved beyond doubt that 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 restlessly. 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 re sumed. He watched the clock Impatiently un til Anally, determined to compose himself, he sat down and refused to look, and when he finally turned his head he was surprised to find that It was only a few minutes to the appointed time for meeting. He ran hastily up the stairs and hastened through parlor after parlor, expecting Helen Baldwin to rise and greet him. Twice he passed through the parlors They were empty and he sat down upon a deep lounge to wait. 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 bad 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 and high color. Her eyes were brown, but of a hard, lustreless tint, which, with the thinness of her lips, gave the face a look of hard coldness In spite of Its coloring. "Helen," he exclaimed quickly, "This Is a pleasant surprise." ••1 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? 1 was nearly bowled aver when I saw you to-day” The remembrance of the fact that she had cut him caused him to stop suddenly and flush as he added. "1 thought you did not know me, hut I see you did." — "Surely you did not expect me to bow to you there." she responded sharply. "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. 1-arry,’’ she replied lightly. "A girl must think of herself and 1 did not choose to have my companions learn that I was acquainted with persons in that—profes sion. 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?" Her tone was petulant and the boy, indignant at being placed on the defensive without the opportunity to explain, grew hard. ‘‘1 am earning my living—honorably,” 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 1 tried something 1 knew' I could do." “Then you then your uncle”—the girl’s con sternation was real, and she hesitated as if unable to grasp the import of the words. "Then our engagement" "I thought that was broken before 1 left," he replied. "You said you wouldn't marry me at all if 1 told Uncle Jim.” 'I thought you would be sensible,” she argued. "Every one 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. “Better than the aver age of our set: squarer and straighter.” "Why did you do it?" she demanded, on the verge of tears from disappointment and annoy ance. ”1 quarrelled with Uncle Jim,” he admitted. “I told him 1 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 1 had to make my own living. Of course I could not stand that” “Of course," she interjected stormlly. "I told you that he hated all our family, but that If we were married he would forgive you.” "1 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 hope less it was to think of you,” “1 couldn’t bear being poor, Larry," the girl spoke with some feeling. "We were poor once, I know. Be sensible. Go back home and make up with Mr. Lawrence —and when 1 return" “I am making a good salary,’ ily. "I can support two. enough” "I couldn't marry a mere ball player,” she said, shrugging with disdain. “You used to like it when 1 played at col lege," 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 Harney for the Summer, and his friend Insisted upon taking us to the game.” “That was Barney Baldwin with you?” he in quired, his tone expressing dislike. “Yes,” she said defiantly. "Your Uncle Jim hates him because Uncle Barney is cleverer In business and has beaten him, but you should not take up the quarrel.” “Oh, see here, Helen,” he protested. "He'B your uncle, but every one knows he Is crooked In politics and in business. Why do you accept his money?” "He is very good to me—and I cannot baaf 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 quarrelled 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 both of them, and a rustle of retreating garments in the adjoining parlor caused Mc Carthy to step quickly to the doorway. He was just In time to recognize the gown disappear ing around the comer into the hallway. He realized that Betty Tabor had overheard part of the conversation, and he wondered how much. He was flushed, and showed signs of consternation as he returned to the divan. “Some eavesdropper, I suppose,” Miss Bald win 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 un comfortably 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. Be sides, 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, 1 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 nd eavesdropping in hotel parlors.” “She would not do such a thing. You must not speak of her in that w r ay,” he stormed In dignantly. “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, smoking a cigar In spite of the sur roundings, and attired in evening clothes, 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, 1 forget. What is it you call your self now—McCarthy? I knew him when he was at college. He plays on some baseball team—one of those we saw to day now. Mr. McCarthy this is my uncle. Mr. Baldwin." “I have heard of you often, Mr. Baldwin," said McCarthy, coolly. ”1 am glad of the op portunity to meet you.” The hidden meaning in his tones escaped the complalsi nt big man. "You’re McCarthy, the new third baseman, eh?” asked Baldwin without offering his hand. “Glad to know you. Saw you play to-day. Too bad you threw that game away.” "1” McCarthy started to offer defense but reconsidered and maintained silence. “We must be going. Helen,” said Baldwin. The girl extended her hand carelessly. "We hope to have the pleasure of Beeing you again, sne said. Baldwin, with a curt nod to the player, turned to leave the parlor and McCarthy, seiz ing the opportunity, said: "As a favor, Helen, do not reveal my iden tity.” “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 quarrelled with his uncle, his best friend, who had taken care of him since his earliest childhood and who had made him his heir- on account of her. She never had cared. She was cold and heartless and mercenary. And, to his surprise, McCarthy felt no regret at the definite ending of the engagement. He could go home now confess his foolishness to James Lawrence, and strive to make amends. A pang of regret at the thought of his kind- hearted, but fiery uncle, lonely and worried about him, came over him. He was free from his engagement to Helen Baldwin. He need not play ball any more. He was free. Y’es, 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 and he was free. 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. He would remain with them; help them win the championship —and win her for himself. CHAPTER VIII. How He Saved the Day. mwo defeats at tjie 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, and the fact that both Williams and Morgan, the star left-handed pitchers upon whom they had relied to win, had been beaten, made the situation the more desperate. The game was a brilliant exhibition of de fensive playing on the part of the Bears, who were driven back by the hard hitting of the Maroons. Wilson, of the Maroons, was pitch ing well, while the men behind him, noted for their ability to hit right-handed pitching, were hammering and pounding away at Klinker’s offerings as if to pile up a great lead. In spite of the fierce batting of the Maroons the mag nificent defensive work of the Bears held their rivals to two runs, while by their brilliant and resourceful system of attack and skilful in side 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 re deem 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. He did not look toward them or endeavor to discover whether or not the girl was watching him. He felt that she w r as. and through pique and the determination to compel the applause of the crowd, he played with a dash and abandon that set the crowd cheering. 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 Boars’ inner wall of defense. Swan son's brilliant stop and throw of a vicious drive checked the bombardment and drew a round of applause, 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 crowd was howling over the expectation of another defeat for the Bears and the crumpling of their pennant as pirations. The infield was drawn close in the hope of cutting off the runner from the home plate. Clancy knew that, with Wilson settled and pitching as he was, and with Klinker being hit hard and persistently, a tie meant almost certain defeat, as sooner or later the Maroons would drive home a runner, while it appeared improbable that the Bears could score again excepting through the intervention of luck. It was desperate baseball, and, as the infielder? 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 situation was one to try the nerves of the most hardened veteran, and the crowd, in the tensity of its anxiety, was silent. 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 slow pursuit. Swan- son had come up to cover third, and the run ner irom second base c .me up and 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, playing to gain time in which to permit the batter to race to sec ond base, 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, ex cited 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 Me- Carthy 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 victory meant more than one game won: it meant that Clancy had gained an extra day of rest for his best pitchers and had won a game with a pitcher, who, in all probabality, would not work again during the season. With Williams, Wilcox and Morgan rested and in condition to open against the stronger teams in the East, the Bears seemed to have brighter chances. At that stage of the season a day of rest for the good pitchers counts greatly in the balance. The Bears were scheduled to stop enroute 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. Each club play ing the Travelers was compelled to use its best pitchers, and it was for that series Clancy had been anxious to save his good men, be cause if they started hitting, their long drives covered much of their weakness on the bases. 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, almost at the finish. McCarthy was happier and more interested than he had been since he joined the Bears. Restlessly he awaited an opportunity to talk wuth 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 w r as engaged. He wondered how much of the conversation Betty Tabor had overheard, and worried about it. He spent the entire evening on the train seek ing an opportunity to have a quiet talk with the girl. Two or three times he saw her, but always she was in conversation with her father or with Mrs. Clancy. When they started bridge later he saw his chance for a tete-a-tete was gone for that evening and withdrew to his own car in a had humor with himself. Miss Tabor had responded to his greeting with a nod and a smile, yet he thought she had seemed leas cordial than usual and he attributed it to the fact she had seen him with Helen Baldwin. He wanted to explain to her who Miss Bald win was and how he had happened to be talk ing with her. yet he knew it w’ould seem pre sumptuous 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 W'ould mention meeting Helen Baldwin. He went to bed annoyed and with an odd sense of being wronged; of being placed in a position of being unable to explain. He de termined 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 thfr Travelers she went with Manager Clancy and his wife in a taxicab, while McCarthy w'as 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 w’hen 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 tha early innings that Manager Clancy was able te 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. t It was a jubilant crowd of players that re turned 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 de- - feats by the Maroons, leaving the teams again practically tied for the lead, w'ith the Panthers ahead on percentage due to difference in the number of games played. With their best pitchers rested and being saved for the teams against which they were especially effective, the Bears were confident that they would win; so confident that Manager Clancy was com pelled to issue a warning against over con fidence. McCarthy spent the evening loitering around the hotel lobbies, still hoping for an opportunity to see Miss Tabor, and when she failed to ap pear at dinner and was not with Mr. and Mrs.* Clancy when they started out for a car ride McCarthy conceived the idea that she was avoiding him and was miserable. He did Lot know she had accepted an invitation to dine with a schoolmate who was living in -the city of the Travelers. He wandered aimlessly* around until, abandoning his quest, he went to his room disconsolately. It was not yet 11 o'clock, but Sw'anson w’as preparing for sleep. As McCarthy came into the room he stopped tc 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 striv ing to write. “What was you trying te do, Silent?” asked McCarthy, laughing harder. "Figuring my share of the World’s Series re ceipts and making notes of what to do with the money,” responded Sw'anson laboring harder. “Why that way?” asked McCarthy. “Well, you see,” he explained, “Clancy said he’d fine any one of us he caught with a penc< in his hand doping out these statistics,” said Sw'anson, "and I just had to know.” He was in uproarious spirits, and while Mc Carthy was preparing for bed Swanson amused himself by trying to massage a spot where a pitched ball had struck him between the shoul der blades, his antics causing McCarthy to laugh until he forgot his worries. 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, after waiting an instant to see if any of the players were there, Swanson sprang from bed and ran* 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 on'a minute, here he Is now.” "Hey, Adonis,” Swanson called to the pitcher who was just entering the room from the hall- f way. “Some one wants you. Can’t make out who he is. You answer.” He handed the receiver to Williams care lessly 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. Mc Carthy, glancing up, gazed at him in surprise and started to speak, stopping when Swanson held up a warning finger and nodded toward Williams's room. “I’m tired,” said Swanson in a loud tone; "let’s sleep late in the morning.” Then ap-, proaching McCarthy’s bed he said in a whis-' per: “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? If it's that important I'll come right down. Yes I w’iU. I’ll be there in a quarter of an hour." “Skirt calling you again, Adonis?" inquired Swanson lightly. “Better not let Clancy catch you.” To Be Continued Next Sunday