"And that is who the big guy was that Edwards hired as his
slugger. The season won't be complete until I hook this old grounder
grabber of mine on his jaw."

"I've got a bit of business," announced McCarthy, after an hour of
excited conversation.

"Wait till she gets through breakfast," insinuated Swanson insultingly.
"Going to desert your old pal for a skirt so soon?"

"Aw, shut up," said McCarthy. "I've got to thank her, haven't I?"

Swanson was silent for an instant. A serious expression came over his
homely, good-natured face.

"I hope you win her, Kohinoor," he said, simply, putting his big arm
across McCarthy's shoulders. "You deserve her--I wanted her myself,
once."

Without another word he went over and sat down, picking up a paper, and
McCarthy, walking to him, said:

"I'm sorry, Silent, maybe"----

"No maybe about it," said Swanson without looking up, "I lost, long
ago."

McCarthy descended two flights of stairs and knocked timidly at the
door of the Clancy apartments. He expected to find Betty Tabor with
Mrs. Clancy, but the girl was alone, the Clancys not having finished
their breakfast.

"Betty," he exclaimed, taking both her outstretched hands, "Betty--I
had to come--I wanted to tell you--I love you."

"Oh," she said in surprise, "I"----

His arm slipped around her waist and he drew her close.

"I have loved you from the first," he said, pleadingly. "I wanted to
tell you yesterday. I thought you cared then; you do care for me,
don't you?"

"Yes, Larry," she said softly, hiding her face. "I think I have--from
the first."

"From the first--the very first, dearest?" he asked tenderly. "From
the day we met--years ago?"

"Years ago?" she asked in surprise. "Then you are? Yes, you are; you
must be the little boy who was crying in the train? I knew when you
came with the club we had met somewhere, and I could not remember
where."

"Did you remember the little boy?" he asked.

"Yes, Larry," she said "I never have forgotten. I used to pray for him
every night; that he might be happy in his new home. I kept the
picture of him that was taken at Portland and I often have thought of
him."

"It must have been meant that we should meet, dearest," he whispered.

"Yes, Larry," she replied softly.

He kissed her and held her close.

"Larry!" he exclaimed. "Where did you learn my name, sweetheart?"

"The old gentleman in the box next to us at the game called you
Larry--and it