“I suppose, now,” said Johnny thoughtfully, “they’d not let Renneker play on the team if it happened that he really was this other guy.”
“Of course they wouldn’t,” answered Slim, a bit impatiently. “What do you think? Accepting money for playing baseball! I’ll say they wouldn’t! But I tell you you’re all wrong about it, anyway, Johnny. So don’t talk about it, son. Even if a fellow is innocent, getting talked about doesn’t help him any.”
“Sure, I know,” agreed Johnny. “It wouldn’t be him, I guess.”
“Not a chance,” said Slim heartily. “Coming, General?”
Half a block down the avenue Leonard broke the silence. “Sort of funny,” he remarked, “that the initials should be the same. ‘G. R.’; Gordon Renneker and George Ralston.”
“Too blamed funny,” muttered Slim.
Leonard looked at him with surprise. “You don’t think, do you, that—that there’s anything in it?”
Slim hesitated a moment. Then: “Don’t know what to think,” he answered. “Johnny’s no fool. If you play baseball with a chap you get a pretty good view of him. Of course, now and then you find a case where two fellows look so much alike their own mothers mightn’t know them apart at first, and Johnny might easily be mistaken. I dare say he didn’t get a very good look at Renneker yesterday. Besides, what would a chap like Renneker be doing barnstorming around for a measly twenty-five?” It was evident to Leonard that Slim was working hard to convince himself. “Anyway,” he went on, “Johnny’ll keep it to himself after this.”
“Yes,” Leonard affirmed, “but I think he still believes he’s right.”
“Let him, so long as he keeps it to himself. I’m not awfully enthusiastic about this Gordon Renneker, General. So far he hasn’t shown anything like what you’d expect from a fellow with his reputation. And I don’t warm up to him much in other ways. He seems a pretty cold fish. But he may get better, and, even if he doesn’t, I guess we wouldn’t want to lose him. So it’s up to us to forget all about this silly pipe-dream of Johnny’s, see?”