o 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