“You will,” answered Babe confidently. “You sure will, son, you sure will. To-morrow about this time you’ll be apologizing to me and the old bat for all the harsh words you’ve spoken, Ginger. Sack cloth and ashes for you to-morrow, son!” “I wished I was going to be there,” said Ginger longingly. “It’ll be the first game I’ve missed since I took hold.” “Mean to say you’re not going along?” demanded Hal, while the rest stared in surprise. “Can’t, Cap.” Ginger shook his red head regretfully. “Why not?” asked Babe. “Who says so?” “Mister Naylor. He says he can’t afford to pay my fare. Course, I’d pay my own fare, only my――my dividends ain’t been comin’ in very regular lately――” “Well, I’ll be blowed!” ejaculated Dave. “The old miser! Going to do us out of our mascot for a paltry five or six dollars! What’s it cost to get down there and back, Hal?” “Five――something. You can’t blame Bert much, though. We haven’t begun to make expenses this spring, and Bert’s the guy that’s got to make the alibis. Still, it wouldn’t hurt much to loosen up on a fiver.” “I’ll say it wouldn’t,” declared Joe. “Look here, you know, you chaps, we’ve got to have Ginger! Gee, we’d get licked as sure as shooting without our mascot! Let’s dig!” “Keep your hands out of your pockets, you guys,” directed Babe. “Ginger and I are pals, and I look after his finances. You be at the train promptly at nine-eighteen, son, and bring your rabbit’s foot along. Something tells me we’re going to need it.” “I ain’t got any rabbit’s foot,” muttered Ginger, flushed, joyous, embarrassed, “but I――I got a lucky dime.” “Bring it, kid, bring it!” begged Dave. The league grounds in the city were neutral territory, without a doubt; and they were also very nearly deserted territory when the game started the next day. There was a small and devoted clump of Holman’s supporters back of third base and a scarcely larger company of Munson cohorts back of first. And there were some six hundred representatives of the general public scattered hither and yon about the rambling stands. It was not an inspiring scene. There was no band, there was but little cheering, there were few pennants. The general public munched peanuts and, still neutral, lolled in its seat and yawned throughout four dismal innings. It seemed that the teams were as depressed and indifferent as the bulk of the spectators. The afternoon was scorchingly, breathlessly hot, and to move from bench to plate started perspiration from every pore.