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 than encouraging for those who had journeyed thirty miles to see the Bullies win. After a time, he walked over and spoke to Hutchinson. They talked earnestly for several minutes, Riley making gestures with his clenched fist and nodding his head savagely, while Hutch shrugged his shoulders repeatedly.

When the Kingsbridge manager turned toward the local bench, he found Henry Cope standing near it.

"Well," said the grocer, "what did old Riley have t' say? Tried ter browbeat ye, didn't he?"

"Oh," said Hutchinson, "he reasserted his claim to Hazelton, and said we'd surely lose this game out of the count if we persisted in pitching the man. You can see, Cope, that it's no bluff; the meeting is called for to-morrow night. I've got Ringling, a new pitcher, here, and he's clever. Don't you think we'd better use him?"

"I notified you," said the grocer irritably, "that Locke would pitch this game, and he'll pitch it. Put him in."

"All right," growled Hutchinson, in exasperation, "have your own way." As he sat down on the bench, he added to himself: "You pig-headed old fool!"

So it was Locke who went on the slab when the