“Reckon someone got smashed up,” reflected Wayne, walking a little faster. The folks about him were audibly conjecturing on the accident but no one seemed to know anything about it, and it was not until Wayne had reached the corner of an intersecting street a square from the ball grounds that he learned the facts. The brakes on one of the cars had failed to work and, since there was a down-grade just here, it had crashed into the rear of a car ahead. The two cars were there for evidence, both badly crushed as to vestibules. A motorman and two passengers had been badly injured, Wayne heard, but no one had been killed. Several others had been shaken up, but, as Wayne’s informant added, with a smile, they had gone on into the ball game and so probably weren’t dangerously injured! That reminded Wayne of his own purpose and, after pushing his way forward for a curious view of the damaged cars, he hurried on again and sought the players’ gate. By now he had determined to see the game in any event. After walking all the way from town in the hot sun it would be silly to turn back, he told himself, and he jingled the few coins in his pocket reassuringly. The door in the high fence was closed but yielded readily to pressure and Wayne, looking as nonchalant as he knew how, stepped inside. Mike was standing a few yards away, talking with one of the ground-keepers and didn’t turn until he heard the creaking of the door as it went shut on its rusty hinges. When he did turn, though, Wayne saw an expression of lively interest on his face and paused irresolutely, so certain was he that Mike meant to deny him admittance. But Mike’s greeting was startlingly different from what Wayne expected. The door tender took a step toward him and jerked an impatient thumb over his shoulder. “Hurry up an’ get in there,” he said. “The boss is lookin’ for you!” CHAPTER XXII SECOND BASE SLOAN The succeeding quarter-hour was always strangely confused and indistinct in Wayne’s memory. Damascus was warming up on the diamond and Herring’s brilliant thatch showed above the corner of the stand as the boy’s gaze swept hurriedly toward the field ere he turned in at the dressing-room door. Doubtless others of the pitching staff were out there with “Red,” but most of the players were still standing around the office when Wayne entered. For the moment none saw. “This is what comes of keeping your salary list down!” Manager Milburn was declaring heatedly. “Lose two men and you’re shot to pieces! How does he expect me to win games with only enough players to cover the field? We have a right to twenty-two and he gives me nineteen! LaCroix, you take first. You’ll have to play third, Jones, and Dan will play second. Hold on! You catch Nye, don’t you? That won’t do then. I’d better take second myself. Hustle out now, fellows. We’ve just got to do the best we can and----”