at, 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 bab