"Ought to have one these," said Bean, "then you know where you are." "This runs well," said the Pitcher affably. "'S little old last year's car," said Bean with skilled ennui. He was trying to remember--mustn't talk to a ball-player about ball; they're sick of it. "Got a busy day ahead of me in the Street," he said brightly. "I was only taking a little spin to get my head cleared out. Have to keep your head clear down there!" "Say, that's some suit you have on," said the Pitcher with frank admiration. "I like that check." "Do you?" asked Bean, trying not to choke. Then, "Where'd you get yours? I was noticing that suit the other night; saw you up at Claremont--" "Couple of pals of mine when I'm in town--" "That white line against the blue comes out great in the day time. Cut well, too. I see you got one those patent neck-capes that prevents wrinkling below the coat-collar. And extension safety pockets, I suppose?" "Match pockets, change pockets, pencil pockets, fountain pen pockets, improved secret money pocket, right here; see?" The speaker indicated the last mentioned item. "Flower holder up here under the lapel." He revealed it. "I have 'em make a vestee," said Bean; "goes on with gold pins; adds dressiness, the man says." The Pitcher revealed a vestee, adjusted with gold pins. The red car moved as smoothly as if nothing had happened. Next was made the momentous discovery that each wore a shirt with the identical lavender stripe. "Initials!" said Bean, pulling up the sleeve of his coat and rotating his fore-arm under the Pitcher's approving glance. "Got mine tattooed the same way," said the Pitcher, pulling up the sleeve of his coat in turn. They discussed shirts. "Funny thing," said Bean. "Chap down in the office with me, worth about a hundred million if he's worth a cent, wears separate cuffs; fastens 'em on with those nickel jiggers." "Had a fellow on the team last year did the same thing," said the Pitcher. "He's back to the bush now, though. The hick used to wear a made-up neck tie, too, till the other lads kidded him out of it." "You must get a lot of those Silases, one time and another," said Bean sympathetically. He was wondering; the fellow had referred at least indirectly to his calling. "In the box, to-day?" he asked, feeling brazen. The Pitcher nodded. "You certainly pitched some air-tight ball last time I saw you. Say, I'll tell you something. If I ever have a kid, you know what's going to happen? Nothing used but his left hand from the cradle up; and, for toys one league ball and a light bat. That's all." "Right way," said the Pitcher approvingly. "I'm only afraid the managers will get wise to him and not let him finish out his college course," said Bean. "I don't know, though. I'll be in the business myself by that time; may sign him on myself." "Like it?" asked the Pitcher, interestedly.