the sake of
the pennant, this would be the solution of the problem.

I decided to take Milly into my confidence, and finally on the strength
of that I got to sleep. In the morning I went to my hotel, had
breakfast, attended to my mail, and then boarded a car to go out to
Milly's house. She was waiting for me on the porch, dressed as I liked
to see her, in blue and white, and she wore violets that matched the
color of her eyes.

"Hello, Connie. I haven't seen a morning paper, but I know from your
face that you lost the Rochester series," said Milly, with a gay laugh.

"I guess yes. The Rube blew up, and if we don't play a pretty smooth
game, young lady, he'll never come down."

Then I told her.

"Why, Connie, I knew long ago. Haven't you seen the change in him
before this?"

"What change?" I asked blankly.

"You are a man. Well, he was a gawky, slouchy, shy farmer boy when he
came to us. Of course the city life and popularity began to influence
him. Then he met Nan. She made the Rube a worshipper. I first
noticed a change in his clothes. He blossomed out in a new suit, white
negligee, neat tie and a stylish straw hat. Then it was evident he was
making heroic struggles to overcome his awkwardness. It was plain he
was studying and copying the other boys. He's wonderfully improved, but
still shy. He'll always be shy. Connie, Whit's a fine fellow, too
good for Nan Brown."

"But, Milly," I interrupted, "the Rube's hard hit. Why is he too good
for her?"

"Nan is a natural-born flirt," Milly replied. "She can't help it. I'm
afraid Whit has a slim chance. Nan may not see deep enough to learn
his fine qualities. I fancy Nan tired quickly of him, though the one
time I saw them together she appeared to like him very well. This new
pitcher of yours, Henderson, is a handsome fellow and smooth. Whit is
losing to him. Nan likes flash, flattery, excitement."

"McCall told me the Rube had been down in the mouth ever since
Henderson joined the team. Milly, I don't like Henderson a whole lot.
He's not in the Rube's class as a pitcher. What am I going to do?
Lose the pennant and a big slice of purse money just for a pretty
little flirt?"

"Oh, Connie, it's not so bad as that. Whit will come around all right."

"He won't unless we can pull some wires. I've got to help him win Nan
Brown. What do you think of that for a manager's job? I guess maybe
winning pennants doesn't call for diplomatic genius a