"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 seemed to fit you better than Jim does." She laughed. "He is my uncle--my father, almost. You will meet him soon, and then I will explain how I became McCarthy." At that instant Manager Clancy and his wife entered abruptly, followed by Technicalities Feehan. Betty Tabor blushed and struggled to extricate herself from McCarthy's arms, but he held her close and announced: "Betty has just promised to become my wife." A shower of congratulation followed, and Mrs. Clancy became so excited she dropped her fancy work and kissed both, then kissed Feehan, and that surprised reporter dropped his precious manuscript in his embarrassment. A few moments after McCarthy left his room to make the call that resulted in his happiness being established, Swanson was aroused from his reverie by insistent rapping upon the door, and in response to his welcoming cry, a tall, slender old man with bristling moustache, stormed into the apartment. "Where's that young scoundrel who calls himself McCarthy?" he demanded, brandishing his cane threateningly. "Hello, grandpaw," said Swanson. "Who dealt you a hand?" "You're another one of those rascally ballplayers!" charged the man violently. "I know you--you've been leading my nephew into all sorts of wild scrapes, disgracing the family"----