Mr. Cummings seemed to sympathise with Tom’s yearning for the diamond and more than once suggested an afternoon off when the local club was to play at home. The senior partner was something of a “fan” himself and followed the fortunes of the Cleveland and other major league clubs with great interest. He and Tom soon got into the habit of discussing baseball affairs in slack moments and he always handed the morning paper to the boy after he had read it. “Fine game in Chicago yesterday, Tom,” he would say. “Thirteen innings without a run!” “Those White Sox have a great team this year, sir. I wouldn’t be surprised to see them win the pennant, the way they’re travelling now.” “Hm; yes, maybe. But Philadelphia will stand a lot of watching, son. They made a bad start, I know, but they’re coming fast now.” And then, if there were no customers awaiting Tom’s attention, they would talk baseball for many minutes, Mr. Cummings leaning with an elbow on a showcase and gazing thoughtfully into the street and Tom tidying his stock behind the counter. Sometimes Mr. Wright would enter quickly and find them there, and then Mr. Cummings’s efforts to appear busy were very amusing. “I tell you, Tom, it’s a fine thing to be able to hit over three hundred, but if you can’t make time on the bases you might just as well bat around two hundred. Why, now you take---- These are going pretty well, are they? That’s good. Better not let your stock get too low.” And Tom, bewildered at the sudden turn of conversation, would glance around to find Mr. Wright frowning from the doorway. It became an understood thing between the senior partner and Tom that when Mr. Wright appeared they were each to simulate deep attention to business!