"Hello, Mac," said Clancy gladly. "How you hittin' em? Haven't seen you in an age. How's tricks?" "Pretty good, Bill. You're looking fine," replied McMahon, manager of the café, who in his youth had played ball on the team with the now famous Clancy. "I was worried about something I heard this morning and thought I'd send for you. I couldn't come up." "What is it? Let's have a drink--make mine grape juice." "When I came down this morning Johnny, the night man, told me one of your players was in here until after midnight last night," said the old ball player. "Which one?" demanded the manager angrily. "He didn't know him, except that he was a ball player. He was a sandy-haired fellow, rather slender and wiry looking." "McCarthy--maybe," said the manager thoughtfully and worried. "I didn't think that bird would do it. Something funny." He had leaped at the identification. "That isn't the worst of it, Bill," continued McMahon, "that fellow was with Easy Ed Edwards and a big fat guy in a dress suit." "What?" demanded Clancy, starting indignantly. "Sure of that?" "Johnny knows Ed Edwards. They sat in the booth over there and had four quarts of wine, and the player was pretty well lighted up when they got out." "Thanks, Mac," said Clancy worriedly. "This is tough news at this stage of the game. I'll have to take a look into it." Clancy, his weather-beaten face furrowed with a heavy frown, walked slowly back to the hotel. President Bannard, of the Bears, was waiting for him in the lobby. "Good morning, Bill," he said. "You're out early. I wanted to see you." "Had some business downtown and went out an hour or so ago," replied the manager. "What's the woe?" "Who's going to pitch to-day?" asked the president. "I don't know. I never decide in advance," responded the manager carelessly. "Guess it will be either Wilcox or Williams--whichever one looks best warming up." "If it's all the same to you," said the president diplomatically, "I wish you'd let Williams work." "Why?" demanded Clancy, on the defensive in an instant. "It's this way, Bill," explained the president. "You know I don't own this club. I've got most of my money in it, but another fellow has control of the stock. He is going to the game and he asked me to let Williams pitch, as he never has seen him work." "Williams hasn't been very steady in his last three games," remarked the manager thoughtfully. "I don't want to risk this pennant to please anyone, no matter if he owns the whole league." "Well, you said yourself that your choice was between Williams and Wilcox, so I can't see it makes any difference." "You know I don't like to announce pitchers ahead of time," said the manager. "It seems to me the owner ought to have a right"----