noring his protests, they dragged out
chairs and tables and started the game. Scarcely had they started when
the telephone bell rang and Swanson answered:

"No, he's not up here," he said. "No. Who wants him? All right, put
them on. Hello! Who is this? Oh, all right. No, Williams isn't
here. Yes, I'm sure. He went out with the manager an hour ago--to a
theatre, I think. All right. I'll tell him."

"Fellows," he said, as he hung up the receiver, "some friends want
Williams to meet them as soon as he can. He'll know where. Fellow
says it's important."

He glanced meaningly at McCarthy, who nodded to show that he
understood, and as he sat down he remarked:

"Kohinoor, I guess it's up to us to go to a show or something to-night."

"All right," replied McCarthy, striving vainly to continue his reading,
while puzzling over the fresh development.

At that same instant there was an acrimonious conversation in progress
in the room from which the telephone summons for Williams had just
come. Easy Ed Edwards hung up after his brief talk with the player at
the other end of the line, an ugly gleam in his cold eyes.

"He isn't there," he reported to Barney Baldwin, who was sitting by the
table, jangling the ice in a high-ball glass. "Either he's trying to
cross us or he's playing wise and keeping his stand-in with the
manager."

"Sure he isn't trying to cross us?" asked Baldwin. "He won yesterday's
game instead of losing as he agreed to do."

"He tried hard enough to lose it," sneered the gambler. "He tossed up
the ball and those dubs couldn't beat him. I tell you you've got to
handle that red-headed kid at third base as you promised you would. He
saved that game twice. We've got to get rid of him."

"He's stubborn," snarled Baldwin. "I tried to get him to quit the team
and go back home. He's as bull-headed as his uncle, and that's the
limit."

"You know who he is?" queried the gambler in surprise. "Why don't you
tell the newspaper boys and show him up. That would finish him. He's
under cover with his identity, and if we can prove he hasn't any right
to play with the Bears they'll have to throw out the games he's won."

"That's just the trouble," replied Baldwin bitterly. "He's straight as
a string. He never played ball except at college. We can't tell who
he is because that would prove he's all right and make him stronger
than ever."

"Who is he?" inquired the gambler.

"He's the nephew