“They don’t grow none better, boy. She’s all right, though her father’d put an everlastin’ end to baseball, if he could have his way. You’re dead sure this man Riley ain’t got nothin’ on ye?” “I’m practically sure of it. He’s bluffing, Mr. Cope, and he’ll lay down when he finds he can’t drive you.” There was something in the way this was said, however, that left a vague uneasiness in the grocer’s mind. “Practically sure,” he muttered, as he sat on the bleachers, scarcely paying any attention to the run of the game. “Why ain’t he dead sure? It’s mighty odd that he should be at all onsartin on that p’int.” CHAPTER XXVII THE ITEM IN THE NEWS The match did not progress favorably for Kingsbridge. For five innings, Skillings fought hard to hold his own, but the “Lakers,” as the Lakeport team was called, seemed to have his measure, and Hutchinson notified Stark to substitute Deever in the sixth, the score standing 7 to 5 in favor of the visitors when the change was made. Deever took it up with reluctance, for his sore arm would not permit him to throw anything but a “lob ball.” That slow teaser, however, bothered the Lakers for a while; but in the eighth they began to time it right, and drove in three more tallies, which clinched the game. Cope heard a man near him complaining. “Lefty could have saved it if Hutch had put him in,” declared the dissatisfied one. “He’s the only real pitcher we’ve got. Skillings belongs in the discards, and Deever hasn’t got anything left in his sleeve.” “But we can’t pitch Lefty all the time,” returned another man. “We’d be fools to work him too much. We’re holding him back for the Bullies. He’s got that bunch measured, and they’re pie for him.” When the game was over and the regretful crowd was passing slowly out through the gates, Cope sought Hutchinson. “We’ve got to have another pitcher,” he said. “Is that so?” said the manager. “I saw you talking with Lefty. Is he frightened out? Is he going to quit the league, or will he go to Bancroft?” “He won’t do neither!” rasped Cope. “And he ain’t frightened. I say we’ve got to have another pitcher because it’s plain that Lefty’s the only real first-class twirler we own.” “Skillings will be all right when he rounds into shape,” asserted Hutch. “I didn’t sign Deever.” “Well, I did――and he’s as good as Skillings. Neither one of them ain’t got the goods. Do you know of any good pitcher we can get hold of in a hurry?” “Such a man will be hard to find late in June.” “But we’ve got to find him!” came grimly from Cope’s lips. “No matter what price we have to pay, we’ve got to have another top-notch slabman. If you can’t find him――” “I presume,” cut in Hutchinson coldly, “that I can find him if he is to be found.” “Then git busy. Make the wires hot! This town is out to win this year, if it goes bankrupt, and we ain’t goin’ to be held down by tricks, lack of pitchers, or anything else.”