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.