"Them?" inquired McCarthy. "Then you've heard this story before?"
"Yes," she admitted. "I refused to listen—I knew there was not a word of truth in the stories. I knew you were honest"——
"I thank you very much, Miss Tabor," he said quietly. "I shall not need to ask who told you."
"I only wanted you to know I believed in you," she said simply, and as he looked into her eyes, she lowered them with a quick blush and hastened to recover her book.
CHAPTER XXI
Fair Play
Thirty thousand persons were packed into the big stands on the Bears' Park, and ten thousand others camped in the outer field seats when the teams ran out to play that day.
A few loyalists applauded McCarthy as he trotted along with the other players, but the ripple of applause died suddenly as if the friends he had in the crowd feared to start a counterstorm of criticism and abuse.
The great crowd was strangely quiet, although a hum of comment spread through the stands when the Bears took the fielding practice and Jacobson, the pitcher, practiced at third base, while McCarthy remained near the stands idly warming up a recruit pitcher. The buzz arose to a hum of excitement. Reporters, deserting the press box, swarmed down under the stands and crowded to the entrance at the rear of the Bears' bench, calling for Clancy, who went to speak with them.