"Glad they're not much hurt," said Bannard easily, looking at the battered athletes. "How is the pitching staff? By the way, who is working to-day?" "It's Williams's turn," said Clancy steadily. "Why?" "Why, that's what I came to see about," replied the president frankly. "That friend of mine--the one I spoke to you about the other day--wants to see him pitch. I'm starting West at noon and I told him I'd ask you as a favor. He was pretty sore because you didn't put him in the other time I asked you." "All right. Always glad to oblige when possible," said Clancy grimly. "Why didn't you ask who his friend is?" inquired Swanson when Bannard departed. "Bonehead, fool, slow thinker," said Clancy. "I ought to bench myself for not thinking of it. I'll find out the first time I see him." The players laughed nervously and departed from the room. Scarcely had McCarthy and Swanson reached their quarters when the telephone girl called to tell McCarthy an important call had been coming in for half an hour. "Very well, connect me," said McCarthy. He recognized Helen Baldwin's voice, and it shook with emotion, as she made certain she was talking to him. "Oh, Larry," she said, "I must see you! I must--to-night, if possible! Please come!" "What is the matter, Helen?" he asked anxiously. "It's impossible to come to-night--and after the last"---- "I know, I know, Larry," she said rapidly. "Please, please forget all that. I didn't understand! I didn't know! I've found out something that showed me how bad and wicked I have been. I didn't mean to bring harm to you"---- "Uncle came home," she said. "He'd been drinking. He made terrible threats against you." "I'll be up to-night," said McCarthy. "Better look out--it's a trap," warned Swanson, who had heard McCarthy promise to call that night. "There's something wrong up there," replied McCarthy. "I'm going to Baldwin's house to-night." They went downstairs talking in low tones. On the parlor floor Betty Tabor was sitting reading. She had scarcely spoken to McCarthy since the day she had heard him in conversation with Helen Baldwin. Impulsively she dropped her book and came toward him with her hand outstretched. "Mr. McCarthy," she said rapidly, "I wanted to tell you--I do not believe a word of these horrible things the paper says about you. It is hateful! I told them they were false. I didn't think they'd dare tell others"---- "Them?" inquired McCarthy. "Then you've heard this story before?" "Yes," she admitted. "I refused to listen--I knew there was not a word of truth in the stories. I knew you were honest"---- "I thank you very much, Miss Tabor," he said quietly. "I shall not need to ask who told you." "I only wanted you to know I believed in you," she said simply, and as he looked into her eyes, she lowered them with a quick blush and hastened to recover her book. CHAPTER XXI _Fair Play_