"Why--why, I just ran over from Anneburg to meet you and ride in with you--and sort of put you onto the ropes and everything," vouchsafed Mr. Birdseye. "Well, isn't that splendid--we didn't expect it!" Once more he addressed his attentive fellows: "Gentlemen, you'll never guess it until I tell you. It is none other than the official reception committee bearing with it the keys of the corporation. I shrewdly suspect the Colonel has the words 'Welcome to Our City' tattooed upon his chest." "Let's undress him and see." The idea was advanced by the same wire-drawn youngster who had called for the cheers. He laid hold on Mr. Birdseye's collar, but instantly the happy captive was plucked from his grasp and passed from one to another of the clustering group. They squeezed Mr. Birdseye's fingers with painfully affectionate force; they dealt him cordially violent slaps upon the back. They inquired regarding his own health and the health of his little ones, and in less than no time at all, it seemed to him, he, somewhat jostled and dishevelled, confused but filled with a tingling bliss, had been propelled the length of the aisle and back again, and found himself sitting so he faced the directing genius of this exuberant coterie of athletes. The rest, sensing that their leader desired conference with the newcomer, resumed their diversions, and so in a small eddy of calm on the edge of a typhoon of clamour these two--Birdseye and the great manager--conversed together as man to man. "And so you ran down to meet us--that was bully," said the blocky man. His mood was now serious, and Mr. Birdseye set himself to reply in the same spirit. "What's the prospects for a crowd over in Anneburg?" "Couldn't be better," Mr. Birdseye told him. "Everybody in town that can walk, ride or crawl will be out to see you fellows play." "To see us play--that's good!" "The Mayor is going to be there, and ex-Governor Featherston--he's about the biggest man we've got in Anneburg--and oh, just everybody." "Whosoever will, let him come, that's our motto," stated his vis-à-vis; "entertainment for man and beast. You'll be there of course?" "In a front seat--rooting my head off," promised Mr. Birdseye, forgetting in the supreme joy of this supreme moment that he owed first duty to Anneburg's own puny contenders. "Say, you fellows are just exactly like I thought you'd be--regular hellions. Well, it's the old pep that counts." "You said it--the old pep is the thing." "What kind of a trip did you have coming up?" "Fine--fine from the start." "And where do you go from Anneburg?" "Asheville, then Richmond. Anneburg is the smallest town we play." "Don't think we don't appreciate it, Swifty. Say, the Big Fellow certainly can pitch, can't he?" Mr. Birdseye pointed toward the flinger of oranges who, having exhausted his ammunition, was now half out of a window, contemplating the flitting landscape. "How's his arm going to be this year?"