"I said, 'Billie, I could hug you for that!' ... Billie, let me go! Oh, you mustn't!—please!"
Quite a little while afterward Madge remembered to tell Billie that she had been seeking her uncle. They met him and Pat Donahue, coming out of the parlor.
"Where have you been all evening?" demanded Mr. Ellston.
"Shure it looks as if she's signed a new manager," said Pat, his shrewd eyes twinkling.
The soft glow in Madge's cheeks deepened into tell-tale scarlet; Billie resembled a schoolboy stricken in guilt.
"Aha! so that's it?" queried her uncle.
"Ellston," said Pat. "Billie's home-run drive today recalled his notice an' if I don't miss guess it won him another game—the best game in life."
"By George!" exclaimed Mr. Ellston. "I was afraid it was Carroll!"
He led Madge away and Pat followed with Billie.
"Shure, it was good to see you brace, Billie," said the manager, with a kindly hand on the young man's arm. "I'm tickled to death. That ten days' notice doesn't go. See? I've had to shake up the team but your job is good. I released McReady outright an' traded Carroll to Denver for a catcher and a fielder. Some of the directors hollered murder, an' I expect the fans will roar, but I'm running this team, I'll have harmony among my players. Carroll is a great catcher, but he's a knocker."