He found himself striving to compare her face with that of another.
"She is not as pretty as Helen is," he told himself. "But it's different somehow. Helen never seemed to feel anything or to understand a fellow, and I'm sure Betty—Betty? I wonder if that is her real name—I'll sing for her as often as she will listen."
And, after a long reviewing of the past that was proving such a mystery and which the baseball reporters were striving in vain to explore, McCarthy muttered: "I've made a fool of myself," and turned over and slept.
CHAPTER IV
"Kohinoor" Meets Betty
The train was speeding along through the upper reaches of a beautiful valley when McCarthy awoke. As he splashed and scraped his face in the washroom he found himself torn between desire to hasten the introduction which Kennedy had promised and to avoid meeting the girl. He glanced down at his worn garments, wondering whether or not the girl had observed them. He went forward to the dining car with sudden determination to avoid the introduction. The dining car was crowded, and the table at which Swanson was eating was filled. McCarthy stopped, looked around for a vacant seat. There seemed to be only one—and at that table Miss Betty Tabor was breakfasting with Manager Clancy and his wife.
"Good morning," said the girl, smiling brightly. "There is a seat here. My father had to hurry away. Mr. Clancy will introduce us."
Clancy suspended his operations with his ham and eggs long enough to say:
"Miss Taber, Mr. McCarthy. Kohinoor, this is the old lady."