“The skirt? Oh, you mean Collier’s daughter?” “Sure! She seems to be running things.” Dalton shook his head soberly. “And that’s unfortunate. Women may vote, hold office, and go to war if they want to, but baseball is one thing they’d better keep their noses out of. No team ever did well with a female monkeying with it.” “Do you know,” murmured Billy, “I’ve got an idea that I can locate Lefty Locke’s weak spot. It’s skirts. We all have our failings, and that’s his.” “Perhaps you’re right,” nodded Larry. “I’ve always thought he had a level block, till lately. Now he’s mixed up with two dames, and――” “Why don’t you talk to him, Larry? You’re the one to do it. He ought to listen to you.” “Maybe he ought to listen, but he won’t. Once I wouldn’t have hesitated, but now I can’t open my face to him without his being ready to jump down my throat. I confess it has made me a bit raw, too. Once he had plenty of friends, but if he keeps on he will lose the sympathy of everybody.” “I’m afraid you’re right,” admitted Billy sadly. “I’ve been figuring to get my fingers on some of that post-season money, but if Locke goes to pieces now we won’t be in the running at the wind-up. Let’s hope for the best.” CHAPTER XIII SUSPENSE The Specter twirler having become practically unhittable, the ninth inning gave the Blue Stockings nothing further than their slim lead of one tally. The final half opened with Dutch Schwartz, leading the Specter’s list, the first man to face Locke. “Whiff him, Lefty!” begged a few fans. “You can do it! Oh, you Lefty! You’re the boy!” With an expression of mingled determination and disdain for these pleading rooters, Schwartz planted himself at the plate, having first knocked the dirt out of his spikes with the butt of his heavy club. “Take it easy, son,” called Spider Grant, getting into position to cover plenty of territory in the vicinity of first. “You know him. If you can get him to start with, it will be as good as two down.” Locke gave his captain a cold stare, and his lips moved. It seemed that he muttered some sullen retort, but Grant could not distinguish the words. So long did the pitcher stand in that position, gazing straight at Spider, that the tense crowd began to wonder, and the umpire called “Play” twice. Finally, lifting his “meat hand” with the soiled horsehide gripped in his fingers, Lefty turned his eyes on Nelson, who crouched promptly, and signaled.