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J& THE PLOT fop the pennant. «<
BY HUGH S. FULLEItTON. VjMi
TIE Panthers and Bears are nearing the
end of a bitter struggle tor the baseball
championship, when the Bears lose their
Heaviest hitter and speediest base-runner. This
results In their defeat by the Panthers in the
first game of a crucial series. .
On the eve of the second game a college
nlaver who has quarreled with his rich uncle
and has been obliged to take up professional
baseball joins the team under the assumed
name of McCarthy. His skill as a pinch hitter
wins the second game, and his exultant team
mates promptly christen him "Kohinoor' 1 Mc
' fitter enmity develops between "Kohinoor"
and "Adonis" Williams, the team's star pitcher
and is heightened hv the fact that both men are
In love with Hettv Tabor, the daughter of the
club’s secretary, who is travelling with the
team Although nobody suspects It. Williams
has fallen into the power of “Easy Ed” Ed
wards. a gambler, who is using every effort to
Induce the pitcher to throw the championship
to the Panthers.
Helen Baldwin, the girl on whose account his
Continued from Last Sunday
Copyright, 1913, by the Star Company.
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
centre. Half an hour, which seemed two hours,
passed, then, as he turned in bed, a steeply
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 Me
* Carthy, 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
Before be commenced snoring McCarthy had
fallen into pleasant dreams.
It was nearly noon when Swanson and Mc-
Carthy, who had slept away the morning,
descended to the hotel lobby In better frames
of mind. The majority of the players were
lounging around on the chairs and settees,
waiting the luncheon hour.
Manager Clancy, serious and worried, was
talking with a gray-halred man and a younger
man. McCarthy observed them and grew un
comfortable 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 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 man
ager. “I understand. Get in there to-day and
hustle.”
It was the final game of the trip and the
Hears, with confidence renewed, went into it
determined to rush the attack and win quick
. ly. Their practice preceding the battle was
last and full of life and spirit, contrasting
greatly with the sluggish, half-hearted exhi
bition by the Travelers. When the batting
practice started McCarthy was surprised, when
he stepped to the plate to hit, to find Lefty
Williams pitching to batters. The surprise
vas doubled, because he supposed Williams
would pitch the game, and it was against the
custom of all clubs for a pitcher who is likely
to work in a game to take part in the pitch
ing to batters. He faced Williams and hit the
tirst ball hard and straight over second base,
sapping back to await his turn to bat again,
lams was lobbing the ball easily, as if
l arming up. Twice Clancy called to him to
lui. pitching to batters, and he shouted back
aat his shoulder felt a little stiff and he want
'd 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 base
man dropped flat and the ball, just grazing
the top of his head, car-
ried away his cap. As
he sat on the ground, sur
prised and thrilled with
Sot resentment, he knew
Williams had tried delib
erately to hit him. His
first impulse was to rush
at the pitcher and seek
Physical satisfaction, but
suddenly he remembered
his part in the deeper
game he and Swanson
were playing, and he de
cided not to reveal the
fact that he was aware of
Williams’s intention. He
■ taped back into a bat
ter's position and then
yelled:
“Keep that bean ball
*er th e game; you'll need
He saw that Williams
was white and shaken,
nd the next ball came
tioating over the plate
’ ithout speed. McCarthy
swung at it, without
attempting to hit it.
Another slow one float
over the plate and
again McCarthy made
a burlesque swing.
"jsing the ball a foot,
jams flushed a deep
_ and, stepping
•J-J.y I ack into position he drove a straight
" l _ all at the batter. McCarthy was on his
rd. Drawing back slightly he allowed the
0 ’°uch his shirt, and when Williams,
• ?r.e than ever, hurled another fast one at
■ m he stepped back and drove it to left field
•or a clean hit.
As he hit the ball he heard Clancy call an
? to to come off the slab, and the
Pitcher, white with anger at the contempt the
tecruit had shown for his pitching, sullenly
<ueyed.
■ J o " tried three times to bean you,”
said Swanson in low tones as they walked out
o their positions after retiring runless in the
first inning.
1 know it," said McCarthy. “I coaxed him
? , g ;.. 1 think we can make him pitch to-day
y t ell ing him that we don't think he can.'
me plan was adopted. For two innings the
_ J , ,
Z /fern.
< jWk’W On
“Manager Clancy, serious and worried, was talking with a gray haired man and a younger man.”
uncle cut "Koblnoor” off. calls at the hotel to
see lilm She says she can never marry a pro
fessional ball player.
That night McCarthy hears his enemy Will
iams receive a mysterious telephone message
and sees him leave the room to keep an en
gagement.
Williams meets Edwards, the gambler, and
Barney Baldwin, the politician, who owns the
Panthers, apd the trio lay their plans for hav
ing the Bears lose the championship. Baldwin,
who is Helen's uncle, says he has a plan for
shouldering the blame on McCarthy in ease
the crook-d work is discovered. Clancy, the
Bears' manager, hearing that one of his play
ers was at this midnight conference with Bald
win and Edwards, promptly jumps to the con
clusion that McCarthy is the guilty man.
McCarthy vigorously denies the charge, but
nevertheless, is kept on the bench during the
next game. That night he meets Baldwin, who
tries to induce him to prevent the Bears' win
ning the pennant. McCarthy indignantly re
fuses, and .when he says that he is a nephew
of Jim Lawrence, Baldwin's bitter enemy. Bald
win flies into a rage and threatens to "break"
the player.
short stop and third baseman harassed the
pitcher.
“Put some of that stuff on it you tried on
me,” McCarthy jibed, after a base hit. “Haven’t
you anything left.”
“What’s the matter? Lost your nerve or
your curve?” demanded Swanson.
Under the running fire of taunts, criticisms
and sarcasm Williams pitched harder and
harder, furious at his team mates and, unable
to revenge himself upon them, venting his an
ger 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.”
Satisfied that their end was accomplished,
McCarthy and Swanson ceased their concerted
nagging. The Bears had accumulated two
runs and seemed winning easily in the fifth
when, before a runner was out, McCarthy, cut
ting 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, charging him
with "throwing him down” and attempting to
lose the game. Under the circumstances Mc-
Carthy 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. He saw’ Kennedy run
angrily down to Williams and rushed with
Swanson to join the argument.
“You cut out that pitching inside,” snapped
Kennedy. "That’s twice I’ve signalled you
high and out and you've pitched Inside both
times.”
"Trying to toss off this one?” demanded
Swanson angrily. “You big stiff, pitch ball.’’
The next batter sacrificed, and again Will
iams broke the ball low and inside the plate to
a right-handed hitter. The ball came like a
shot toward 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.
To the spectators it seemed as if the Bears
were panic-stricken, although in reality Ken
nedy and Swanson were striving to compel
Wiliams to pitch properly ,and he, angry and
sullen, continued to disobey the catcher’s
orders. 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 desperately determined to hold their lead.
McCarthy was puzzled. He knew that 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, as if not hearing the wordy argument
between Williams and Swanson and Kennedy,
which continued through the last half of the
game.
Tuttle, the first hatter for the Travelers in
the last half of 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 ex
tended 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 on a play that set the
crowd wild with enthusiasm. The next batter
hit fiercely between third and short and Swan
son, 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 firs).
Somehow McCarthy knew the
next drive would be toward ■
him. He felt that 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 de
feat. He gritted his teeth and
crouched, waiting as the mighty
Watson, the heaviest hitting
right-handed batter tn the
league, faced Williams Crouch
ing. 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 hit
ting him on the head. The ball
broke through his hands and
rolled a few feet aw’ay. His
hands were numb to the wrists
from the terrific shock. He
stood still one trice. Then he
saw the runners had stopped,
bewildered. They bad lost
sight of the ball, so rapidly had
it travlled 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 sec
ond 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.
He felt Swanson’s big hand
beating him on the back and
heard the short stop calling him
“Great Head.” He was cold
with suppressed anger as he
walked to where Williams was
standing, still bewildered by the
unexpected play. He faced the
pitcher and said:
“Williams, you’re a crook!”
CHAPTER XIV.
A Feu> Statistics.
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 depart
ment. Only two games were to be played off
the home grounds. The Panthers had six
games to play, three against the Blues, a team
equally as strong, bnt in bad luck, and three
of their six games were on foreign fields.
Sw-anson and McCarthy sat together as the
rain pulled out, talking in low tones.
"I think Clancy is onto him.” said Swanson.
’.Just hold your horses and sit tight. It isn’t
>ur move yet. The Boss acted queerly on the
bench to-day and has been watching Williams
all the time, while pretending not to. Don't
make a move. I'm going to mingle and see if
any of the other fellows are wise to him.”
Hardly had Swanson left the seat than Mc-
Carthy was surprised by •’Technicalities"
Feehan who, without invitation, sat down in the
scat vacated by the shortstop.
Feehan was one of the odd characters de
veloped 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 ballplayer
since Williamson’s day, and never such a
catcher as Mike Kelly, a first baseman like
Comiskey 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.” .
Feehan sat down with a score book in his
i hands, a mass of paper covered with figures
i 1 rotruding from between its loaves.
. “Mr. McCarthy," he said seriously, “did you
i observe anything strange in to-day's game?”
r “Several strange things," assented McCarthy.
"Among them that boot I made early in the
i game.”
: "I mean things of an unusual nature.” per-
■ slsted Technicalities. “I was struck by an odd
i 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?"
“1 noticed that those that didn't have
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“One would think to hear you talk that we had lost the pennant already,’’ said
Betty Tabor.
cayenne pepper on them were white hot and
came like greased lightning,” laughed Mc-
Carthy. “1 expected to find my right leg play
ing left field any minute."
“1 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 sta
tistician, “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. Os these
eighteen batted balls fourteen were hit by right
handed batters and lour 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 sta
tistics and find them correct.”
“Well, what of It?" asked McCarthy, deter
mined not to be drawn into any admissions.
“In the preceding games—ln which you
played third and in which Williams has pitched
—1 find that an average of twelve and a frac
tion batted balls per game have been hit to
ward 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 7*4
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.”
"They are very interesting,” continued
Feehan seriously. "I find as much pleasure in
studying them as I do in watching the pastime.
The phenomenon is the more remarkable,”
add’d 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 Mc-
Carthy, amazed at the deductions of the re
porter, which fitted so well the suspicion,
gradually becoming certainty in 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 regu
larity.”
"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 con
trol he could not pitch so many balls to the
same place.”
“What is to be done? Will you print that?”
asked McCarthy anxiously-.
“Os course not,” responded the odd little man
with dignity. “I leave that to sensation mon
gers. Personally, I have no desire to bring a
noble game into disrepute because of the
crookedness of one man I merely wished to
warn you in order that you might protect your
self. I shall not print it unless it becomes
necessary."
“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 disap
pearance of the French children and of the
sojourn of hundreds of them as slaves in Afri
can harems.
A great throng of admirers was waiting in
the station to welcome the Bears back from
their successful trip. The players walked be
tween rows of crowding, cheering men and
women, and as each was recognized the crowd
cheered and urged them to beat out the Pan
thers and bring the precious strip of bunting to
the Bear City. Swanson and McCarthy finally
escaped from the crowd, and, jumping into a
taxicab, were whirled to the hotel, where the
majorly of the players lived while playing on
the home grounds and where Swanson had se
cured rooms for both.
The hour was growing late, but after they
had deposited their baggage In their rooms
Swanson, pleading an appetite unsatisfied by
the hasty dinner eaten before catching the
early train from the town of the Travelers,
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 magnifi
cence and greatness made him forget the wor
ries 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 res
taurants. Then, in response to some jesting
allusion to the Children's Crusades by Swan
son, he told the big shortstop of the array of
siatistics Feehan had presented concerning
Williams's pitching and his deductions from
them.
"He's a square little guy,” said Swanson.
“And he’s got more brains in that funny look
ing little head of his than tnls whole bunch has.
He dopes things out pretty nearly right, and
when he is convinced that he is right he does
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, and she appeared to be en
joying the repast.
CHAPTER XV.
Betty's Suspicions.
says that one petticoat will ruin
’’ the best ball club that ever lived, but
land 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 interminable 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."
"I’ve been watching baseball teams more
years than I like to confess,” said Mrs. Clancy.
“Os course, Willie says I don’t know anything
about the game, but I tell you I never did see
a team act like this one does that didn’t get
beaten."
“Why, the papers say we have lots the bet
ter chance," protested Miss Tabor. "We’ve
got the weaker clubs to play.”
"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 some
thing. And there's Williams sneakin’ round
like he'd been caught robbin’ a hen roost”
"Mother Clancy.” protested the girl, red
dening, “you have no right to say I haven’t
been treating Mr McCarthy well. A girl can
not throw herself at a man—especially an en
gaged man."
“How do you know he’s engaged?" demand
ed Mrs. Clancy. “Lands sakes. I haven't heard
him announcing his engagement, and he look»
at you across the dining room as sad as a calf
chewing a dishrag."
"I overheard—l 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 soma one was just
jealous. Now, if she’s too good for a ball
player, it looks as if they ain't engaged any
more anyhow. He's got too much spunk to let
her make him quit the game. And then you
get jealous and start leading that sneaking
Williams around just to show McCarthy you
don’t care”
"Why. Mother Clancy.” said the girl, shocked
and red, “you must think me perfectly fright
ful 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 an
other 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 me and papa to late supper,”
the girl admitted. "But ft 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. 1 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, sav
agely. McCarthy saved yesterday’s game
twice.”
Isn t it fpnny the different ways people
look at ball games?" asked the girl. "Only
last night Mr. Williams was angry with Mr.
McCarthy and said Mr. McCarthy put him In
the hole, whatever that means, and came near
throwing away the game for him by his
error.”
"Humph," commented Mrs. Clancy, biting a
thread. He didn t say that while your paw
was listenin’, did he?”
"No; since you mention ft, I remember he
told me that while we were walking home,
and papa had stopped to speak to a friend.”
"I knew .he wouldn’t dare say it to anyone
on the team,” snapped Mrs. McCarthy. "He
pitched as if he wanted to lose the game. I
got so Interested and so mad watchin’ him I
lost my needle and couldn't do any more work
on this centre piece until I got back to the
hotel.”
You think he 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 hesi
tatingly, “but I’ve been afraid for days. He
said something to me that almost frightened
me. He hinted that Mr. McCarthv was losing
games on purpose. I didn’t believe ft—and
somehow I got the Ide* Mr. Williams was bet
ting on the Panthers."
"*^? w ' you L ut, l 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 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 after
ward and Betty Tabor, making a hasty excuse,
gathered up her fancy work.
“It’s going to rain,” remarked Clancy re
signedly. "I think the game will be called off. ’
If the game's off, I’ve got tickets to a theatre,
and you and I and mother 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.”
She ran out of the room, carrying her work,
and as the door closed Manager Clancy stared'
at It in surprise and whistled.
"Whew—that’s a new one,” he commented.
“When did she"
“She didn’t,” snapped his wife; “she hates
him.”
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 lou.nged 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. Manager Clancy had his second sur
prise of the day when he asked Williams to
accompany them, and the pitcher, instead of
showing eagerness, as he usually did, hesi
tated and seemed half Inclined to decline, then
reconsidered and accepted. McCarthy, half
buried in a big armchair, saw them go and
was wretched. He declined Swanson's pro
posal to play billiards, and, going to their
rooms, he commenced to read. Presently flvs
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, being closest, an
swered.
“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.”
+ (To be continued next Sunday.) r- -
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