"Will you pitch him to-day or to-morrow?" asked Baldwin, completely thrown off his guard. "I'm anxious to make certain he will pitch."
"Of course he'll pitch, Mr. Baldwin," replied the manager. "I've got to pitch him and he's my best man."
"All right, Clancy, all right," said the owner genially. "I'm glad I had this conference with you. I was afraid you were angry with Williams or something and would not let him work. Glad to see you have good judgment."
He went out and as the door closed he removed his hat, and, wiping his brow, smiled a smile of great relief over the fact that his purpose had been accomplished without trouble. Had he been able to see through the door he would have seen Clancy, the veins of his neck standing out purple, his face convulsed with rage, standing, shaking his fist toward the door and muttering:
"Yes, I'll pitch Williams. I'll pitch Williams, and by —— he'll win."
CHAPTER XXVII
Searching
Betty Tabor had remained at the hotel in the home town with Mrs. Clancy when the Bears went to play their two-game series with the Blues.
Mrs. Clancy had refused positively to engage in any baseball conversation or to debate with Miss Tabor the chances of the Bears winning the championship.