"Engaged to Betty Tabor? That stiff?" ejaculated Swanson. "Say, did he spring a line of talk like that on you? Why, he has been crazy about her for three years, but she knows what he is, and she won't talk to him any more than to be polite." "I thought it was odd," commented McCarthy, his heart becoming strangely lighter. "Don't make any mistake, though," added Swanson earnestly, as he turned out the lights. "You've stirred up a bad enemy. He won't fight you openly; but keep an eye on him." Swanson's warning fell upon deaf ears. McCarthy's attack of blues was cured, and he fell asleep to the music of street car wheels that seemed to say: "She isn't engaged, she isn't engaged," as they rolled past the hotel. CHAPTER V _The Tempter_ The Bears were coming into their hotel after the first game of the series with the Pilgrims. The throng in the lobby pressed forward, forming a lane through which they were compelled to run the gauntlet of curious and admiring eyes. Easy Ed Edwards was smiling sardonically as he noted the little display of hero-worship, and he watched the procession of battle-stained athletes until Adonis Williams entered. The handsome, arrogant pitcher was laughing as he strutted for the benefit of the onlookers, but, as his eyes met the cold, steady gaze of the gambler, his laugh gave way to a look of alarm. Edwards nodded coldly and motioned with his head for the player to come to him. Williams crossed the lobby to the cigar stand and held out his hand. Edwards did not seem to observe the extended hand, but turned coldly to the case and said: "Have a cigar?" "Thanks," said Williams, nervously. "What brings you out here, Ed?" "Business," replied the gambler chillingly. "Business concerning you--and others. Come to my room to-night." "Can't--I was going out. Had an engagement," Williams faltered, as he dropped his eyes to avoid meeting those of Edwards. "I want you in my room to-night," said Edwards coldly, ignoring the refusal. "You seem to think you have a mortgage on my life," said Williams, angered by the tone and manner of the gambler. "Well--on your baseball life, I have," responded the gambler without changing a muscle of his face. The pitcher started to flare into anger, then paled and his eyes dropped under the gambler's steady gaze. "Well," he said, uncertainly, "I've got to dress, I'll see you later." "Better drop in early. You'll probably pitch to-morrow and you must keep in condition." Edwards' tone was ironic as he added for the benefit of the clerk who was handing him his change: "The race is getting warm and you can't be too careful of your condition."