The train came steaming into the station on time and the shortstop and the reporter crowded closer to the gates, watching the stream of hurrying passengers rushing through the narrow gates and spreading, fan-like, across the great floor. Suddenly Swanson's elbow jarred against the reporter's body, causing the frail statistician to wince. "Look there!" said Swanson in excited whispers. "Where--who?" inquired Feehan, striving to focus his heavy glasses upon the position indicated by his companion. "It's Baldwin--the big fellow with the cane and the small satchel. See him?" "I see a big man. I never saw Baldwin," responded the reporter. "Now, what can he be doing over here?" "I'm going to find out," replied Swanson, his jaw setting pugnaciously. "McCarthy isn't on that train or he'd have been out among the first, and they're almost all out now. Good luck to you, Feehan, and wire me the minute you locate Kohinoor." "I will," promised the reporter. "What you've got to do is to win that game to-day without him. I'll have him here to-morrow if he hasn't broken a leg." Swanson leaped into the taxi immediately behind that into which he had seen Baldwin climb, and ordered the driver to follow the other vehicle. His surprise hardly could have been greater than when the short pursuit of Baldwin ended at the hotel from which he had come, unless it was that which came over him when, upon following the big man to the desk, he heard Baldwin order the clerk to send his card to Manager Clancy. Swanson's surprise, however, was little more than that experienced by Manager Clancy when the bell boy delivered Baldwin's card. "Send him right up," he said, and as the boy turned he said to himself: "Now, what the dickens does that fellow want with me?" Baldwin entered the room pompously, and walked toward the Bears' manager with his pudgy hand extended. "Ah, Clancy," he said patronizingly. "I'm Mr. Baldwin. I've seen you often on the field, but never had the occasion to meet you before." "Yes," replied Clancy, ignoring the hand, "I've heard of you often, Baldwin, in various connections. You wanted to see me?" "Yes; matter of business," said the big man. "Fact is, Clancy, I ran over from home purposely to have a little confidential talk with you." "Depends upon what it is whether it's confidential or not," said Clancy; "I can't pledge myself not to tell the newspaper boys, especially if you've come to give me a third baseman." "Hasn't McCarthy shown up?" inquired the politician quickly. "No," responded Clancy coldly. "Didn't happen to see him over in town, did you?" "No, no. Fact is, Clancy, I never have paid much attention to my ball players." "Your ball players?" It was Clancy's turn to be astonished. "Yes, yes; Clancy, I supposed you knew. I've owned the controlling interest in the Bears for a number of years. That's what I came to see you about." "You own the Bears?" Clancy's tone was between surprise and disbelief.