"Pretty good, Bill. Team all right?" asked the president. "I heard two of the boys got mixed up in a barroom scrap."
"I was just warning them about that," said Clancy. "These are the two (he pointed to Kennedy and Swanson). I was warning them that a lot of tough mugs in this burg are likely to get excited over baseball these days and ball players ought to stick close to the hotel."
"Glad they're not much hurt," said Bannard easily, looking at the battered athletes. "How is the pitching staff? By the way, who is working to-day?"
"It's Williams's turn," said Clancy steadily. "Why?"
"Why, that's what I came to see about," replied the president frankly. "That friend of mine—the one I spoke to you about the other day—wants to see him pitch. I'm starting West at noon and I told him I'd ask you as a favor. He was pretty sore because you didn't put him in the other time I asked you."
"All right. Always glad to oblige when possible," said Clancy grimly.
"Why didn't you ask who his friend is?" inquired Swanson when Bannard departed.
"Bonehead, fool, slow thinker," said Clancy. "I ought to bench myself for not thinking of it. I'll find out the first time I see him."
The players laughed nervously and departed from the room. Scarcely had McCarthy and Swanson reached their quarters when the telephone girl called to tell McCarthy an important call had been coming in for half an hour.
"Very well, connect me," said McCarthy.