"It seems to me the owner ought to have a right"——
"Now look here, Bannard," said Clancy sharply, "when I signed this contract it was with the agreement that I was to run the business on the ball field and let your end of it alone. I'm perfectly willing to oblige a stockholder, but I'm going to win this pennant, and I'll do what I please with the playing end of the game. If Adonis looks good warming up he'll go in, if he don't I'll send someone else to the slab—and that goes."
"Well—have it your own way"; the president had surrendered entirely to the aggressive manager. "Put him in if you can, and if you can't I'll explain that he wasn't right—twisted himself or something."
Clancy went to his room puzzled and annoyed and, as usual, he sought advice and enlightenment by consulting Mrs. Clancy, whose abundant good nature and portliness formed a striking contrast with his seriousness and slenderness.
"Willie," she said, laying down her sewing after Clancy had stood at the window, whistling and gazing out for ten minutes without saying a word. "Well, Willie—who has broken a leg or sprung a Charlie horse now?"
"Nothing much, mother," said the big manager quietly. "Nothing much—just worrying a little over the way things are going."
"Bill Clancy," she ejaculated indignantly. "Do you think you can fool anyone with that talk? Do you think I could live with you eighteen years, come next Martinmas, and not know when you're in trouble? Tell your old lady what it is."
"Sure, mother," he said fondly, coming to put his arm around her waist. "Haven't you enough troubles of your own?"
"Me have troubles?" She was indignant. "Nothing troubles me but worrying over those pesky boys of yours. What's wrong now, Willie?"
"One of the boys out skylarking last night—and drinking."