"A
great many men think they can do something that is shady and get away with
it, and sometimes at first it looks as if they were right about it. But
sooner or later they get tripped up and are exposed."

"Well, everybody has got a right to make a living," grumbled Curry.

"Sure he has--and I'm not denying it."

"And everybody has got a right to go into baseball if he feels like
investing his money that way."

"Right again. But if he wants to make any headway in the great national
game, he has got to play it on the level right from the start. If he
doesn't do that, he may, for a certain length of time, hoodwink the
public. But, as I said before, sooner or later he'll be exposed; and you
know as well as I do that the public will not stand for any underhand work
in any line of sports. I've talked, not alone to baseball men, but also
to football men, runners, skaters, and even prize fighters, and they have
all said exactly the same thing--that the great majority of men want their
sports kept clean."

There was no reply to this and Joe rose to his feet.

"But what's the use of talking?" he added. "Let the new league do as it
likes. There's one bully thing, anyway, that it won't touch--our Giants.
Whatever it does to the other teams, we will all stick together. We'll
stand by Robbie and McRae till the last gun's fired. So long, fellows, see
you later."

He strode off down the corridor, leaving three silent men to stare after
his retreating figure thoughtfully.

CHAPTER XVII

"MAN OVERBOARD"

Baseball Joe found Jim waiting for him near the clerk's desk.

"Been having quite a confab," remarked the latter.

"Yes," replied Joe carelessly. "Burkett and Red came along and we had a
fanfest."

The next day was the first of their real vacation, and they spent the
morning strolling about the city and marveling at the quick recovery it
had made from the earthquake. They had a sumptuous dinner on the veranda
of the Cliff House, where they had a full view of the famous harbor and
watched the seals sporting on the rocks.

The commerce of the port was in full swing, and out through the Golden
Gate passed great fleets with their precious argosies bound for the
Orient, for immobile China, for restless and awakened Japan, for the
islands of the sea, for the lands of the lotus and the palm, of minaret
and mosque and pagoda, for all the realms of mystery and romance that lie
beneath the Southern Cross.

It would hav