"Silent" Swanson, the giant shortstop, who had earned his nickname because he was the noisiest player on the field, was standing talking with "Noisy" Norton, the second baseman, so called because he seldom spoke either on or off the field, and Adonis Williams, the star left-handed pitcher of the team. The newcomer's eyes fell upon this group, and his face lighted as he observed that Williams's hair was only a shade darker than his own. As if deciding quickly, he walked toward the group. "You are Williams, are you not?" he inquired easily, smiling in a friendly manner. "That's my name, but most people add a mister to it," responded Williams sneeringly. The red-headed youth flushed and the smile died out of his eyes. "I beg pardon, Mister Williams," he said, quietly; "I was seeking Manager Clancy. Perhaps you can tell me where to find him?" "It isn't very hard to find Clancy," responded Williams. "We can't lose him." "Perhaps you would be so kind as to point him out to me. I never have had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Clancy." Neither of them had observed that Swanson and Norton had drawn aside to permit the girl who had been in the writing room to pass on her way to the elevator. Evidently she overheard the youth's inquiry, for she hesitated just as Williams laughed in an ugly manner and said: "If you don't know him you'd better peddle yourself somewhere else. He won't be in a mood to talk to hoboes to-night." Before the slender youth could speak, the girl stepped forward and said quietly: "Pardon me, but I overheard you inquiring for Manager Clancy. He is in the writing room." Her brown eyes flashed with anger, her lips were set tight and her sun-browned cheeks flushed as she passed quickly on toward the elevator, not waiting to respond to the thanks of the slender youth, who had removed his hat quickly to utter his gratitude. Then, turning toward Williams, who stood flushed and angry, his blue eyes narrowed and he said: "Just for that, I'll kick you on the shins in the club house and dare you to fight." "What? You will, huh?" spluttered the astounded pitcher. He would have said more, but before he could recover, the newcomer, smiling oddly, turned and walked toward the writing room and held out his hand to the famous Clancy, for six years leader of the Bears. The slender youth stood with extended hand while Manager Clancy gazed up from his writing. "Mr. Clancy?" he asked, smiling. "Yes. Sit down," responded Clancy, his intention of rebuffing the intruder changing as he saw the smile. "What can I do for you?" "I read in the evening papers," replied the youth, still smiling easily, "that Carson broke a leg, and that, to win the pennant, you must find an outfielder who can hit." "Perhaps you also read that I'd like to find a diamond about the size of my head," responded Clancy, sarcastically.