Jimmy Kirkland and the Plot for a Pennant Part 28

"I'm not trying to run it, Clancy," replied the big man, unruffled.

"Don't fly off that way. I just decided to use the owner's prerogative of consulting the manager."

"All right, Mr. Baldwin," replied Clancy, puzzled and mollified. "I did not know--you see it's a new idea--I didn't even know you owned stock."

Clancy was sparring for time in which to collect his thoughts, which were sadly scattered by the unexpected developments.

"Thought you might not be convinced," said Baldwin easily, "so I brought the doc.u.ments along. Look over them and be convinced I own the club. They cost me a pretty neat pile, but I'm satisfied. You've made 'em pay me."

He tossed over the book of stock certificates, and Clancy, who owned a few shares of stock himself, realized their genuineness as he looked through them while planning his next move.

"I congratulate you," he said, handing back the forms. "I own a couple myself, so I know what they pay. Well, what have you to suggest, Mr.

Baldwin? We're having a hard time winning this race, and if I seemed curt, blame it on worries. I have plenty."

"Naturally we all want to win," said Baldwin pompously. "Now, as to behavior, I'm told Swanson and Kennedy aren't behaving themselves."

"They're all right," argued Clancy, feeling from Baldwin's tone that he had not yet reached the point.

"I heard they had a fight in a barroom." Baldwin spoke with an effort of sternness. "That won't do, Clancy. And now McCarthy is missing.

Then there's another thing."

Baldwin hesitated as if thinking how best to state his case, and Clancy eyed him closely, feeling that the real object of the interview was coming, "I'm not at all pleased with the way you are working your pitchers."

"A fellow makes blunders sometimes," replied Clancy, with a meekness astounding in him.

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about," went on Baldwin blandly.

"Who do you propose pitching to-day and to-morrow?"

In a flash Clancy understood. It was Baldwin who had been urging Bannard to have Williams pitch. He saw through Baldwin's motives and planned quickly how to meet them.

"Well," he said, frowning as if worried, "it's a tough game. You see, the fans never forgive a fellow if he guesses wrong at this time in a race. I planned to use Williams in one game and Morgan the other. You see the Blues. .h.i.t right-handers harder than they do left-handers."

"So I understand," a gleam of cunning and triumph came into the eyes of the politician. "Morgan and Williams ought to beat them, I think."

"Yes, they ought--I'm a little afraid of Morgan." Clancy was drawing the owner out. "He hasn't shown speed in his last two games."

"Then Williams is in fine form?" The triumph and satisfaction in the big man's voice were unmistakable.

"He's good," replied Clancy. "He ought to best them sure."

"Will you pitch him to-day or to-morrow?" asked Baldwin, completely thrown off his guard. "I'm anxious to make certain he will pitch."

"Of course he'll pitch, Mr. Baldwin," replied the manager. "I've got to pitch him and he's my best man."

"All right, Clancy, all right," said the owner genially. "I'm glad I had this conference with you. I was afraid you were angry with Williams or something and would not let him work. Glad to see you have good judgment."

He went out and as the door closed he removed his hat, 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 champions.h.i.+p.

"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 gra.s.s 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 baby had come and gone in a short year, to leave them closer to each other, but each with a heart pain that never ceased.

A bell boy interrupted her lecture to bring in a card, and Mrs. Clancy, glancing at it, pa.s.sed it over to Miss Tabor.

"'Tis for you, Betty girl," she said. "And, Mother of Mary, she'll see us this way"----

Betty Tabor sat staring at the card, at first puzzled, then in a panic of mingled emotions.

"Tell her to come up," she said. "I'll see her here. Mother Clancy, don't you dare hide."

The girl hastily arranged her hair and straightened the room, and a few minutes later, when the boy ushered the visitor into the apartments, she was self-possessed and cool. She arose as the door opened, and started forward to meet her guest, but stopped staring as the color faded from her face and then slowly heightened.

"You are Miss Tabor?" inquired the visitor, her voice trembling from excitement and nervousness.

"Yes. You are Miss Helen Baldwin; you desired to see me?"

The sight of the girl she had seen talking with Kohinoor McCarthy in the hotel parlor, shortly after he joined the club, had shaken her composure.

"Oh, Miss Tabor," Helen Baldwin cried, sinking into a chair and giving way to her emotions. "I had to come--I had nowhere else to go--and they told me over the telephone only you and Mrs. Clancy were here and all the men of the team away."

"If it is baseball business," replied Miss Tabor, "perhaps you'd better see Mrs. Clancy. I'll call her"----