It was during that inning that Lefty got up from the bench to stretch his legs, and became aware for the first time of the presence of Miss Collier in the box with her father. She nodded cordially, and it seemed only natural for him to step up and say a few words to her. The few words lengthened into a prolonged conversation. The club owner had a good many questions to ask about Lefty’s father, and Virginia herself was so bright and cheery and interesting that the young pitcher was raised from the depths of despondency in spite of himself. For three innings he stood leaning against the rail of the box. Toward the end he was talking and laughing almost as if he hadn’t a thing on his mind to worry him. Several times his glance wandered back into the stands to where sat a young man of about his own age, who seemed much more interested in the party in the box than in the game. The fellow’s expression was so bitter, and he stared so fixedly at the famous southpaw, that Lefty wondered if he had ever met the chap before, or whether it was simply one of those curious dislikes certain fans seem to take to a player every once in a while. Locke was still wondering when Orth struck out the last man, winning the game by a score of two to one, and the crowd began to pour out of their seats to jam the aisles and runways. The next second Lefty gave a start, and the color drained swiftly from his face. He had caught a brief, fleeting glimpse of a girl who had been seated well back in the lower stand. Her face had been invisible all through the game, but now, as she arose and stepped into the aisle, he saw it clearly for an instant before she was swallowed up in the mob. It was the face of the girl he had been seeking all day in vain. Before he realized what he was doing, he had leaped for the nearest gate, and swung it open. Then he stopped, with a groan. It would be like hunting a needle in a haystack to try and find her in this crush. She might leave at any of a dozen exits before he could reach even one of them. For a moment he stood there, a scowl on his face, bitterness in his heart. Why had she come to the grounds at all? Was it to see him without the chance of being seen? Well, she had accomplished her purpose with a vengeance; she had beheld him chatting and laughing intimately with the same girl she supposed he had taken to the theater last night. With a groan of disappointment and mental pain, Lefty whirled around and tramped sullenly across the field toward the clubhouse. He did not give a single backward glance at the charming Miss Collier. He had forgotten her very existence in the irritation and trouble which this new complication had brought upon him. CHAPTER X THE GROUCH