“Hel-lo!” breathed Fancy. “There’s old man King’s cub, with the parson’s daughter. I don’t blame him, for she certainly is some peach. She must be getting independent; last year I offered to get her a season ticket, but she said her hidebound old man wouldn’t let her come to the games, which he considered sinful and poisonous to the morals of the community.” “Huh!” grunted Riley, eyeing the girl in the carriage. “She’s a year older now, and mebbe she’s given the old pulpit pounder notice that she proposes henceforth to do about as she pleases. I’ve heard she’s ruther high-strung and lively.” “Well, she’s taking a chance with Bent King, ’cording to his college record. He cut it out so hot that he was fired the second year, and then his old man, feeling somewhat peeved, set him to work in the big mill here. Now the brat’s foreman of the mill, though I reckon it was his father that put him there over better men, and not his ability.” “Oh, you’re jealous,” chuckled the manager. “She turned you down when you tried to git gay, that’s what’s the matter. You oughter considered, Fancy, that your record was agin’ ye, and that you was known by reputation in Kingsbridge, just as well as in Bancroft. I’ve noticed the right sorter gals don’t travel in your society extensively.” Dyke’s thin cheek took on a faint flush, and he gnawed with his sharp white teeth one corner of his close-cropped, small black mustache. “I reckon she’d be as safe with me as with Bent King,” he retorted. “Of course, I know what her old man would think of me; but in these days girls don’t tell their folks about every man they’re friendly with.” “There’s old Cope speakin’ to her now,” said Riley. “Looket him take the cover off that skatin’ rink of his. There’s real swagger gallantry for ye, Flash.” A stout, red-faced, jolly-looking man in a somewhat soiled snuff-colored suit had paused beside the carriage to lift his hat and speak to the girl, who greeted him with a charming smile and a show of fetching dimples. “Howdy-do, Janet,” said the man on the ground. “I’m s’prised to see you here, though I b’lieve you did tell me you was crazy over baseball. Your father’s so set agin’ it that I didn’t s’pose he’d let you come. Howdy-do, Benton. Fine day for the opening.” “Oh, father is as bad as ever,” laughed the girl; “but I told Bent how much I wanted to come, and he drove round and used his persuasion with daddy, who finally consented, after getting a promise that I would sit in the carriage and not step out of it. It was jolly nice of Benton, for I am crazy over the game, and I’d go to see one every day if I could.”