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They was a letter waitin’ for him at New York, and I took it, intendin’ to give it to him at the park, because I didn’t think they’d let him room at the hotel; but after breakfast he come up to the room, with his suitcase. It seems he’d promised John and Charlie to be good, and made it so strong they b’lieved him.

I give him his letter, which was addressed in a girl’s writin’ and came from Muskegon.

"From the girl?" I says.

"Yes," he says; and, without openin’ it, he tore it up and throwed it out the window.

"Had a quarrel?" I ast.

"No, no," he says; "but she can’t tell me nothin’ I don’t know already. Girls always writes the same junk. I got one from her in Pittsburgh, but I didn’t read it. "

"I guess you ain’t so stuck on her," I says.

He swells up and says:

"Of course I’m stuck on her!If I wasn’t, do you think I’d be goin’ round with this bunch and gettin’ insulted all the time? I’m stickin’ here because o’ that series dough, so’s I can get hooked. "

"Do you think you’d settle down if you was married?" I ast him.

"Settle down?" he says. "Sure, I’d settle down. I’d be so happy that I wouldn’t have to look for no excitement. "

Nothin’ special happened that might ‘cep’ that he come in the room about one o’clock and wake me up by pickin’ up the foot o’ the bed and droppin’ it on the floor, sudden-like.

"Give me a key to the room," he says.

"You must of had a key," I says, "or you couldn’t of got in. "

"That’s right!" he says, and beat it to bed.

One o’ the reporters must of told Elliott that John had ast for waivers on him and New York had refused to waive, because next mornin’ he come to me with that dope.

"New York’s goin’ to win this pennant!" he says.

"Well," I says, "they will if some one else don’t. But what of it?"

"I’m goin’ to play with New York," he says, "so’s I can get the World’s Series dough. "

"How you goin’ to get away from this club?" I ast.

"Just watch me!" he says. "I’ll be with New York before this series is over. "

Well, the way he goes after the job was original, anyway. Rube’d had one of his good days the day before and we’d got a trimmin’; but this second day the score was tied up at two runs apiece in the tenth, and Big Jeff’d been wobblin’ for two or three innin’s.

Well, he walks Saier and me, with one out, and Mac sends for Matty, who was warmed up and ready. John sticks Elliott in in Brid’s place and the bug pulls one into the right-field stand.

It’s a cinch McGraw thinks well of him then, and might of went after him if he hadn’t went crazy the next afternoon. We’re tied up in the ninth and Matty’s workin’. John sends Elliott up with the bases choked; but he doesn’t go right up to the plate. He walks over to their bench and calls McGraw out. Mac tells us about it afterward.

"I can bust up this game right here!" says Elliott.

"Go ahead," says Mac; "but be careful he don’t whiff you. "

Then the bug pulls it.

"If I whiff," he says, "will you get me on your club?"

"Sure!" says Mac, just as anybody would.

By this time Bill Koem was hollerin’ about the delay; so up goes Elliott and gives the worst burlesque on tryin’ to hit that you ever see. Matty throws one a mile outside and high, and the bug swings like it was right over the heart. Then Matty throws one at him and he ducks out o’ the way—but swings just the same. Matty must of been wise by this time, for he pitches one so far outside that the Chief almost has to go to the coachers’ box after it.