The note, hastily scribbled on hotel letter paper, was awaiting him when Kohinoor McCarthy entered the hotel after the disastrous game. He recognized the angular scrawled writing at a glance. Since the moment his eyes had met those of Helen Baldwin during the game he had been thinking hard. Her behavior had hurt him and the thought that she deliberately had refused to recognize him stung his pride. The note proved she had recognized him on the field. Either she was ashamed of his profession or did not want the men with her to know that she knew him. McCarthy ate a hurried dinner and paced the lobby of the hotel. He was anxious to meet the girl, yet he felt a dread of it, an uncertainty as to the grounds on which their acquaintanceship should be resumed. For nearly half an hour he waited, growing more impatient with every minute and wondering whether there had been a mistake. His mind was busy framing a form of greeting. When last they met it had been as affianced lovers. Now---- A rustle of soft garments brought him to his feet and he stepped forward with outstretched hand to meet the tall, slender girl who came leisurely from the hallway. Her mass of light, fair hair framed a face of perfect smoothness. "Helen," he exclaimed quickly, "this is a pleasant surprise." "I wish to talk with you, Larry," she replied without warmth, as she extended a limp hand, sparkling with jewels. "It is good to see you, Helen," he exclaimed, a bit crestfallen because of her manner. "What brings you East? I was nearly bowled over when I saw you to-day. I thought you did not know me, but I see you did." "Surely you did not expect me to bow to you there," she responded. "Did you desire all those people to know that I had acquaintances in that--that class?" "Then you chose to cut me deliberately?" he asked. "Don't be foolish, Larry," she replied. "A girl must think of herself and I did not choose to have my companions learn that I was acquainted with persons in that--profession, do you call it?" "Well, if you are ashamed of my profession"--he said hotly. "Nonsense," she interrupted him. "I simply did not desire to have people see me speak to a person who earns his living sliding around in the dirt on his face. That is what I wanted to see you about. What new prank is this? Are you seeking notoriety?" "I am earning my living," he said. "Baseball is the only thing I could do well enough to make money." "Earn your living?" The girl's surprise was sincere. "You haven't broken with your Uncle Jim, have you?" The girl's eyes grew wider with surprise, and her tone indicated consternation. "I have--or, rather, he has--cut me off," the boy explained rather sullenly. "I tried to find a job--thought it would be easy here in the East, but no one wanted my particular brand of ability, and I tried something I knew I could do." "Then you--then your uncle"--the girl's consternation was real, and she hesitated. "Then our engagement"----