Kennedy had time to snatch a bite at the hotel and accompany the team to the station to take the train for Deering. Arriving at the latter place, they were welcomed by a gathering at the station, for the whole town had learned by telephone the result of the game in Hatfield. “Where’s your new pitcher, Jack――where is he?” they shouted. “He ought to be all right.” “He is,” assured Kennedy, waiting on the car platform until Lefty was forced to appear. “He didn’t let the Bucks have a run after he mounted the slab. Here’s Bob Stranger, gents, and, believe me, he’s the man I’ve been looking for to win the pennant with. If I can keep him, we’ll nail it.” “Keep him!” yelled one of the crowd. “If you let him get away, your life won’t be safe around these parts!” CHAPTER XXXVIII FIRST POSITION Of course, Locke went out to the farm with old Jack, and again they sat on the veranda, this time watching the moon coming up over the eastern horizon. For a long time Kennedy was silent as he smoked, and Locke also seemed busied with his thoughts. The moonlight, creeping beneath the veranda, fell upon Lefty’s face, making it seem strangely handsome and strangely sad. Suddenly the old manager burst out laughing. “Wonder if Bert Elgin will get his release the way he did the first time you went up against him with the Blue Stockings behind you, son?” he said. “You remember what Brennan done to Elgin after that game was over?” Locke swung round and faced the speaker. “I don’t remember anything at all,” he said, “because, as far as I’m concerned, it never happened. Like the others, Mr. Kennedy, you’ve got me mixed up with another man.” “Mebbe so,” said old Jack; “but I don’t believe it. Look here, if you ain’t Lefty Locke, the boy who pitched for me when I was handling the Blue Stockings the first of the season, how does it happen that you can go into a game same as you did to-day and pitch like a veteran?” “That’s one thing I can’t answer,” was the confession. “Of course, you gave me some practice here in the morning, but――” Kennedy snapped his fingers. “All I gave you didn’t amount to that, unless you knew how to pitch before,” he declared. “No matter how much you remembered, it was what you didn’t seem to remember that was telling you what to do in that game. That’s how you could go in there and win for us. I don’t know where you picked up the name of Stranger, but――” “I’ve always had that name. I’m a diamond cutter, pal. My folks were rather strait-laced, and I was a wild one. They’re both gone, and I’m alone in the world.” “That sounds first-rate as fur as it goes,” said Kennedy; “but it don’t go fur. Where was you born, and where was you brung up? You’ve got plenty of folks who know about you, of course. Where be they?” “I was just trying to think,” said Locke. “Something has made me forget, but I’ll remember to-morrow, perhaps.”