slowly revolving a cane between his knees with thin, brown hands and gravely surveying the efforts of Jack Cooper to get a hit. The stranger interested Loring from the first glance, and he found himself hoping that the other would presently offer an excuse for conversation. But that hope seemed due to frustration, for the minutes passed and the sallow man watched the scene in silence. More than once, after that first look, Loring stole glances at his neighbor, something which, since the neighbor was looking away from him, was possible without detection. After one such glance Loring turned back puzzled by the absurd thought that, despite utter dissimilarity, there was――was――well, there was something about the stranger that reminded Loring of Wattles! Of course it was absurd, for when he stole a look at Wattles there was no single feature of the latter which in the slightest manner suggested any feature about the stranger on the stand; and Loring’s fancy was dissipated. But three minutes later, the stranger proving more of an attraction for him than batting practice at the net, and, Loring having stolen another surreptitious glance out of the corners of his eyes, the fancy returned with full force. Yes, sir, while you couldn’t put your finger on the point of resemblance――although resemblance was too strong a word for it――you just couldn’t look at the stranger without recalling Wattles! It was mighty funny! Presently the second was called across to the other field, and Wattles folded up the seat which he had occupied, hung it on the handle-bar of the chair and followed sedately with his charge. The stranger arose, paused to fill a pipe with tobacco and made his way from the stand in the wake of the wheel chair. Once out of his hearing, Loring spoke eagerly to Wattles. “Did you notice the man sitting near us, Wattles?” “Yes, sir,” replied Wattles. “Do you know who he is?” “No, Mr. Loring, I can’t say that I do.” “You can’t say? Well, geewhillikins, Wattles, you either know him or you don’t know him! Which is it?” Wattles cleared his throat deprecatively. “Beg pardon, sir. What I meant to convey was that I do not know the gentleman’s identity but that it’s barely possible I’ve seen him before, sir.” “You have? Where?” “That’s just it, Mr. Loring. I can’t seem to recall the occasion.” “You’ve probably seen him around here then.” “Quite likely, sir,” agreed Wattles obligingly. “Well, but――but do you think you did see him here? Or was it somewheres else?” “I fancy it might have been somewheres else, sir.” “Wattles, you certainly are the prize package!” “Thank you, sir.”