"Nothing wrong," he said, laughing mirthlessly. "Nothing wrong. You may tell your uncle, with my compliments, that I will continue to play with the Bears to the end of the season, and that, in spite of him and his dirty work we will win that pennant." He arose and passed into the hall without a backward glance, ignoring the sobs of the girl, who buried her face in her handkerchief and wept gracefully, telling him between sobs that he was cruel. He took his hat from the servant and strode rapidly down the steps, his mind a turmoil of emotions. How far did the plot to beat the Bears out of the pennant extend? How many were in it? Gradually he commenced to draw connected thoughts from the chaos of his brain. He realized that he was the storm center of a plot and that he was dealing with dangerous enemies. The girl he had left so abruptly continued her stifled, stagey sobs until she heard the front door close. Then she sat up quickly, glanced at her features in a wall mirror, brushed back a lock of ruffled hair and rubbed her eyes lightly with her kerchief. "How he has changed," she said to herself. "He is getting masterful, and three months ago one pout was enough. I could almost love him--even without old Jim Lawrence's money. "At any rate," she said, looking at the handsome solitaire on her finger, "I can keep the ring. He never mentioned it. I must go tell Uncle Barney." She ran lightly up the stairs to the den where Baldwin, smoking impatiently, was waiting for her. "Well?" he inquired. "Did you land him?" "Don't speak so vulgarly, Uncle Barney," the girl replied. "No, I did not. He has grown stubborn. He told me to tell you he intended to keep on playing to the end of the season, and that they would win--I've forgotten what he said they would win. Does it make much difference, just these few more games?" "Does it make any difference?" he stormed. "Any difference--why, you fool, my whole political future may be ruined by that red-headed idiot. Get out of here. I'm going to telephone." The girl, weeping in earnest now, hurried from the room as Barney Baldwin seized the telephone. A moment later he was saying: "Hello, Ed. She fell down. He's stubborn and says he'll keep on playing. You'd better see your man and break that story in the newspaper. What? They got him? Where? Well, then, they've got the wrong man. McCarthy left my house not five minutes ago." CHAPTER XVII. _The Fight in the Café_ Swanson left the hotel intending to pursue his volunteer detective work only a few moments after McCarthy started uptown to respond to the invitation of Miss Baldwin. He had remained lounging around the lobby talking with Kennedy, the big catcher, until he saw Williams leave the hotel by a side entrance and enter a street car. Then he signaled Kennedy and they strolled out together and caught the next car. "It's Williams we're going to trail," was the only hint Swanson would give at the start.