"That's what a lot of them will say if he don't show up to-morrow," reflected Swanson.
The warning cry of all aboard sounded. The big shortstop hesitated an instant, and gave a despairing glance toward the gates, just being closed.
"It won't do for both of us to miss this game," he muttered as he turned and ran along the platform. The porter was just closing the vestibule doors and the train was gathering speed as the big shortstop swung aboard, went into the now deserted smoking room and sank down, staring blankly out of the window at the rushing lights.
Before the train reached the city of the Blues the news that McCarthy was missing had spread through the car of the Bears. The consternation that followed the rumor grew as the berths were made up and it became a certainty that the third baseman was not with the team. Swanson had informed Manager Clancy early in the morning of the events of the preceding evening so far as he knew them. They had not told anyone, but every member of the team knew, and they gathered in little groups. Williams was circulating around the car, talking with different players.
"Look at him," said Swanson to Clancy. "He hates McCarthy and he was the one who told them first that Kohinoor was not with us. He guessed it when I asked him last night if he had seen him."
"It's queer," the voice of Pardridge came from the berth behind them. "It's a funny thing that all this sort of trouble in the team started when that red-headed tramp joined us."
"They'll all be talking that way," said Swanson gloomily. "They wait for a chance to knock."
"Something may have happened to delay him," said the manager in tones that showed he did not believe his own hopeful words. "Maybe he went to the wrong station, or had an accident. Have you looked at the papers?"
"Yes. Nothing in them about any accident. I'm still hoping he'll be in at noon, catching that early morning train."
"I hope for a telegram from him anyway, when we get to the hotel," replied the manager.