ong, deep breath and held out his hand. I sensed
another stage in the evolution of Whit Hurtle.

"I reckon I've taken baseball coachin'," he said presently, "an' I
don't see why I can't take some other kind. I'm only a rube, an'
things come hard for me, but I'm a-learnin'."

It was about dark when we arrived at the house.

"Hello, Connie. You're late. Good evening, Mr. Hurtle. Come right
in. You've met Miss Nan Brown? Oh, of course; how stupid of me!"

It was a trying moment for Milly and me. A little pallor showed under
the Rube's tan, but he was more composed than I had expected. Nan got
up from the piano. She was all in white and deliciously pretty. She
gave a quick, glad start of surprise. What a relief that was to my
troubled mind! Everything had depended upon a real honest liking for
Whit, and she had it.

More than once I had been proud of Milly's cleverness, but this night
as hostess and an accomplice she won my everlasting admiration. She
contrived to give the impression that Whit was a frequent visitor at
her home and very welcome. She brought out his best points, and in her
skillful hands he lost embarrassment and awkwardness. Before the
evening was over Nan regarded Whit with different eyes, and she never
dreamed that everything had not come about naturally. Then Milly
somehow got me out on the porch, leaving Nan and Whit together.

"Milly, you're a marvel, the best and sweetest ever," I whispered.
"We're going to win. It's a cinch."

"Well, Connie, not that--exactly," she whispered back demurely. "But
it looks hopeful."

I could not help hearing what was said in the parlor.

"Now I can roast you," Nan was saying, archly. She had switched back to
her favorite baseball vernacular. "You pitched a swell game last
Saturday in Rochester, didn't you? Not! You had no steam, no control,
and you couldn't have curved a saucer."

"Nan, what could you expect?" was the cool reply. "You sat up in the
stand with your handsome friend. I reckon I couldn't pitch. I just
gave the game away."

"Whit!--Whit!----"

Then I whispered to Milly that it might be discreet for us to move a
little way from the vicinity.

It was on the second day afterward that I got a chance to talk to Nan.
She reached the grounds early, before Milly arrived, and I found her in
the grand stand. The Rube was down on the card to pitch and when he
started to warm up Nan said confidently that he would shut out Hartford