She stood her ground bravely until four o’clock, and then, thanks to the merciful Providence who protects the fools gone in where angels would not dare, it seemed the whole club had to set about delivering papers. But as there were important details to be attended to, such details as arranging for a permanent place to play, and providing protection for the balls and bats bought from Eveley’s inheritance, and paying dues, it was decided to have a meeting in the Service Hall that evening at seven.
Eveley went home, and to bed.
At six-thirty she got up, made a percolator full of strong coffee and drank it all.
Then she went to the Service Hall to meet the Irish-American Bloodhounds, as she irreverently called them in her inner heart.
Eveley was out of her element, and she knew it.
She was bent on Americanization, but not this kind. She would be glad to assist in the development of quick and kind-eyed Angelo at the office, or the courteous Jap in the tea garden, but for a baseball club she had no talent. She explained her needs and her deficiencies to the manager of the Recreation Center, and he finally agreed that the Bloodhounds needed a young virile athlete as their director. “And for his own sake,” said Eveley almost tearfully, “he ought to be a pugilist. I say this for his good. We need all our assimilators and should not expose them to sudden and violent death.”
Then Eveley talked to the boys, and told them how she had enjoyed and liked them, but explained that being only a woman she was terribly handicapped, and so would leave them to the discretion of one yet to be selected. She hoped they would remember they were good Americans, that they stood for honor and loyalty and right. Then she thanked God she was free, took her coat and hat and went out.
“Why, Miss Ainsworth! Is it really you? What in the world are you doing here?”
Eveley, startled on the threshold of the Service Club, looked up into the face of the blue-eyed Bemis salesman.
“Oh, Mr. Hiltze,” she said mysteriously. “It is a deadly secret. You must never breathe a word of it. But since you have caught me in the act, I may as well confess. I am an Americanizer.”