CHAPTER XLV THE GIRLS IN THE BOX Still with a view to the dramatic, Stillman had planned something else. It was with the greatest difficulty that he had succeeded in keeping Lefty Locke and Janet Harting apart, for Janet was in the city, the guest of Virginia Collier. And when Lefty reappeared on that field and received that marvelous ovation, Janet sat in the owner’s box with Virginia, her gloved hands clasped with a fierceness that nearly burst the kid, her face by turns pale and flushed. All the way across the diamond her eyes followed that splendid figure――the figure of the man she loved. The Niagaralike roaring of the crowd she was conscious of in a vague way, and it thrilled her; and it seemed that she must draw his gaze by her intense effort to do so. When he suddenly dove to the shelter of the bench, she relaxed, with a little sigh of disappointment. Then for the first time she felt the arm of Virginia Collier about her. She heard Virginia’s voice in her ear: “Wasn’t it splendid? Did you ever know anyone to get such an ovation?” “Never,” answered Janet, “but he didn’t look――” “He will look,” assured Miss Collier. “Leave that to Jack Stillman.” “I owe a great deal to Mr. Stillman.” “So do I,” said Virginia, glancing over her shoulder at Franklin Parlmee. “Only for Mr. Stillman, we might all be playing at cross-purposes now. There he is. He’s speaking to Lefty.” Stillman had been pretty busy at his telegraph key, for he was one reporter who could do his own sending, and the events of the last few moments had caused him to sweat as he pounded out the Morse. He was athrill with the joy of it, like a stage manager who has planned a tremendous performance and seen it carried through successfully at the opening, and the crowd going wild over it. “Lefty!” he called; and Locke, passing, turned at the sound of the familiar voice. “Hello, Jack!” he returned. “There’s someone looking for you over in the manager’s box,” said Stillman. As if he suddenly realized who it was, Locke whirled like a flash and started in that direction with long, swinging strides. His bronzed face was flushed. Never had he looked handsomer than he did while Janet watched him drawing near. “You――you, Janet!” he cried, heedless of everyone. “I tried to find you, but you were gone. I couldn’t explain. Let me explain now.” “Hush, Phil!” she cautioned, pressing the gloved fingers of one hand to her lips, while, watched by thousands of eyes, she permitted him to hold the other hand. “You don’t have to explain. Miss Collier has explained everything, and I wish to ask your pardon for――” “Don’t!” he entreated. “How could you know? It must have seemed beastly of me. I told you I was going to the theater with some fellows from the team, and you saw me there with――”