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 Without a moment's hesitation the official replied: "Twenty-four eighteen."

As the scribe passed out of hearing, I inquired: "Brown, how do you reconcile your conscience to such a statement?"

"Why," he answered, "Don't you see? There were twenty-four on one side of the grounds and eighteen on the other. If he reports twenty-four hundred and eighteen, that's a matter for his conscience, not mine."

It was with very great satisfaction, therefore, that in the fall of 1890, at the close of that season, I received a delegation from the management of the Players' League, bearing a flag of truce. I was not President of the National League, but, as chairman of its "War Committee," I was fully authorized to treat with those who came asking for terms. Of course, I was conversant with existing conditions in both organisations. I knew that they were on their last legs, and I was equally aware that we had troubles of our own. We had been playing two games all through—Base Ball and bluff. At this stage I put up the strongest play at the latter game I had ever presented. I informed the bearers of the truce, that "unconditional surrender" was the only possible solution of the vexed problem. To my surprise, the terms were greedily accepted. I had supposed that they would at least ask for something. Then, not to be outdone by the hero of Appomattox, whose terms I had appropriated, I agreed that we would furnish places for all the seceding players, under a reinforced National League of twelve clubs, which was duly organized for the following year.