Lefty talked for a moment or two with Al Ogan, and then, corralling a fellow to catch for him, started to limber up his arm. He felt that he had never been in better form, and the realization inspired him. So far the game was very close, for the Yannigans were having a streak of hitting, of which they took every advantage, so that they were one run to the good at the end of the fourth inning. If Lefty could help them win the game it would be a triumph, indeed, and would more than atone for his losing the first time. At the end of the fifth inning the score remained unchanged. In the last half of the sixth, however, the regulars secured the tying run. A little later Lefty slipped into his sweater, walked to the bench, and sat down. Elgin had stopped warming up a moment or two before, and stood near; but neither paid any attention to the other. As the inning ended, Lefty saw Jim Brennan beckon to Ogan and engage him in conversation. He seemed to be laying down the law in that sharp, decisive manner of his, and something in the cub captain’s face sent a momentary thrill of apprehension through the southpaw. He thrust it from him, however, and when Ogan finally turned away from the manager and walked slowly in, Lefty moved to meet him. “Old man changed his plans?” the cub pitcher asked carelessly. Something, he knew not what, prompted him to put the question. It never really occurred to him that Brennan had changed his mind, but afterward he was more than thankful that the suggestion had come from him. “Yes!” snapped Ogan. “He wants Redmond to go in. I told him I’d promised you, and Redmond’s arm wasn’t limbered up, but that didn’t make any difference. Sorry, old fellow, but I’ll make it up to you another time.” Lefty turned away with a shrug, and tossed his glove up, catching it deftly as it fell. Then he laughed. Ogan could have no idea, of course, how difficult it was to make that laugh sound natural. “Sure!” Lefty said lightly. “You won’t want me at all, then?” “Not this afternoon. I’ll put you in to-morrow, though, if it takes a leg.” He passed on toward the bench, leaving Locke to follow more slowly, his face still indifferent, but his mind full of bitter disappointment. To-morrow! That promise was poor consolation when he had set his heart on pitching to-day. He would never have another chance like this to pit himself against Bert Elgin. The next instant he raised his head and met Elgin’s eyes fixed upon his face with a look of malicious satisfaction. For a fraction of a second Lefty stared. Then he smiled, and, turning, made his way straight toward the runabout containing the two girls. It had suddenly come to him that he would have to go back and explain to them. He hated the necessity intensely; but, since it had to be done, it might as well be gotten over swiftly. CHAPTER XXIV THE UNEXPECTED