He kissed Betty Tabor gallantly while the others laughed and he bowed low over Mrs. Clancy's hand as Kohinoor presented him to the manager and his wife.
"Are you the Mr. Lawrence they call the Lumber King in Oregon?" inquired Clancy, as he shook hands.
"They call me that out there," said the old man, testily. "Call themselves democratic--then King everyone who makes a few dollars--bah."
"Oh," exclaimed Miss Tabor, in sudden alarm. "Then Larry is rich?"
"Never mind that, sweetheart," he said, consolingly. "We can live on my baseball salary if Uncle Jim cuts us off."
"Cut you off, nonsense!" the old man exclaimed testily. "You'll have all my money if you behave yourself and obey me. Young scoundrel never would obey me."
"I've learned to obey in baseball, uncle," replied Kohinoor seriously. "Ask Mr. Clancy if I haven't."
"I'm so glad, Larry," said Miss Tabor brightly, "that you asked me before I knew you were going to be rich."
"Young rascal must have learned some sense," growled his uncle. "He picked out just the girl I wanted him to. When I saw you at the game, my dear, I said to myself: 'Now if Larry would only choose a girl like that, I'd make her my daughter.'"
"You're the worst flatterer of them all--Mr.--Lawrence," said the girl, blushing and laughing.
"You must call me Uncle Jim, my dear," he insisted in his most tyrannical tones. "And understand, Miss, I'm boss of this family."
"By the way, Kirkland," said Technicalities Feehan, who had been busily engaged studying some statistics he had taken from his pocket, "what did you hit the last year you were at Cascade College?"
"Kirkland?" exclaimed Miss Tabor. "Then your name isn't James Lawrence?"
"I forgot," he responded, laughing at her bewilderment. "Your name will be Mrs. James Lawrence Kirkland; I was named for Uncle Jim. How did you find it out?" he added, turning to Feehan.
"I knew it the second day you were with the Bears," replied Feehan. "I have all your records, excepting those of your final year at the university. Did you hit .332 or .318? The records do not agree."
Ten days later, on the night after the Bears triumphantly won the World's Championship, there was a jolly party in the banquet hall of one of the great hotels. Jimmy McCarthy was giving a farewell dinner to his friends and comrades of the Bear team. The dinner had been eaten, the toasts to the team and its manager drunk, and McCarthy arose.