They were extremely voluble, too, and talked on every subject under the sun except the one that concerned their occupation. Under every remark lay a subtle inflection of humor. Mild sarcasm and sharp retort and ready wit flashed back and forth.

The left-fielder of the team, Frank Havil by name, a tall, thin fellow with a pale, sanctimonious face, strolled out of the hotel lobby and seated himself near Chase. And with his arrival came a series of most peculiar happenings to Chase. At first he thought mosquitoes or flies were bothering him; then he imagined a wasp or hornet was butting into his ear; next he made sure of one thing only, that something was hitting the side of his face and head. Whatever it was he had no idea. It came at regular intervals and began to sting more and more. He took a sidelong glance at Havil, but that young man's calm, serious face disarmed any suspicion. But when Havil got up and moved away the strange fact that the stinging sensa! tion ceased to come caused Chase to associate it somehow with the quiet left fielder.

" Chase, did you feel anythin' queer when Havil was sittin' alongside of you? " asked Winters.

" I certainly did. What was it?"

"' Havil is a queer duck. He goes round with his mouth full of number ten shot, an' he works one out on the end of his tongue, an' flips it off his front teeth. Why, the blame fool can knock your eye out. I've seen him make old baldheaded men crazy by sittin' behind them en' shootin' shot onto the bald spots. AnAE he never cracks a smile. He can look anybody in the eye, an' they can't tell he 's doin' it, but they can feel it blamed well. He sure is a queer duck, an' - you look out for your one good eye."

"Thank you, I will. But I have two good eyes. I can see very well out - out; of the twisted one."

Chase went to his room and to bed. Sleep did not soon come. His mind was too full; too much had happened; the bed was too soft. He dozed off, to start suddenly up with the bump of a freight train in his ears. But when he did get to sleep it was in a deep, dreamless slumber that lasted until ten o'clock the next morning. After breakfast, which Mrs. Obenwasser had kept waiting for him, he walked out to the ball-grounds to find the gates locked. So with morning practice out of the question he returned to Main Street and walked toward the hotel.

He saw Castorious sitting in the lobby. "Hello, Chase, now wouldn't this jar you?" he said, in friendly tones, offering a copy of the Findlay Chronicle.

Could this be the stalking monster that had roared at him yesterday, and scared about the last bit of courage out of him? Cas laid a big freckled hand on the newspaper and pointed out a column.

BASEBALL NOTES

" Mac gave Morris his walking-papers yesterday and Stanhope his notice. This is a good move, as these players caused dissension in the club. Now we can look for the brace. Findlay has been laying down lately. Castorious's work yesterday is an example.