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said he soberly, “we just can’t let him get married on the Fourth.”
    â€œWhy not? Sure we can. We’ll help him get married. I tell you it’ll save the pennant for us. Look how he pitched today! Nan Brown is our salvation!”
    â€œSee here, Con, you’ve got softenin’ of the brain, too. Where’s your baseball sense? We’ve got a pennant to win. By July Fourth we’ll be close to the lead again, an’ there’s that three weeks’ trip on the road, the longest an’ hardest of the season. We’ve just got to break even on that trip. You know what that means. If the Rube marries Nan—what are we goin’ to do? We can’t leave him behind. If he takes Nan with us—why it’ll be a honeymoon! An’ half the gang is stuck on Nan Brown! An’ Nan Brown would flirt in her bridal veil! Why Con, we’re up against a worse proposition than ever.”
    â€œGood Heavens! Cap. You’re right,” I groaned. “I never thought of that. We’ve got to postpone the wedding. . . . How on earth can we? I’ve heard her tell Milly that. She’ll never consent to it. Say, this’ll drive me to drink.”
    â€œAll I got to say is this, Con. If the Rube takes his wife on that trip it’s goin’ to be an all-fired hummer. Don’t you forget that.”
    â€œI’m not likely to. But, Spears, the point is this—will the rube win his games?”
    â€œFigurin’ from his work today, I’d gamble he’ll never lose another game. It ain’t that. I’m thinkin’ of what the gang will do to him an’ Nan on the cars an’ at the hotels. Oh! Lord, Con, it ain’t possible to stand for that honeymoon trip! Just think!”
    â€œIf the worst comes to the worst, Cap, I don’t care for anything but the games. If we get in the lead and stay there I’ll stand for anything. . . . Couldn’t the gang be coaxed or bought off to let the Rube and Nan alone?”
    â€œNot on your life! There ain’t enough love or money on earth to stop them. It’ll be awful. Mind, I’m not responsible. Don’t you go holdin’ me responsible. In all my years of baseball I never went on a trip with a bride in the game. That’s new on me, an’ I never heard of it. It’d be bad enough if he wasn’t a rube an’ if she wasn’t a crazy girl-fan an’ a flirt to boot, an’ with half the boys in love with her, but as it is—”
    Spears gave up and, gravely shaking his head, he left me. I spent a little while in sober reflection, and finally came to the conclusion that, in my desperate ambition to win the pennant, I would have taken half a dozen rube pitchers and their baseball-made brides on the trip, if by so doing I could increase the percentage of games won. Nevertheless, I wanted to postpone the Rube’s wedding if it was possible, and I went out to see Milly and asked her to help us. But for once in her life Milly turned traitor.
    â€œConnie, you don’t want to postpone it. Why, how perfectly lovely! Mrs. Stringer will go on that trip and Mrs. Bogart. . . . Connie, I’m going too!”
    She actually jumped up and down in glee. That was the woman in her. It takes a wedding to get a woman. I remonstrated and pleaded and commanded, all to no purpose. Milly intended to go on that trip to see the games, and the fun, and the honeymoon.
    She coaxed so hard that I yielded. Thereupon she called up Mrs. Stringer on the telephone, and of course found that young woman just as eager as she was. For my part, I threw anxiety and care to the four winds, and decided to be as happy as any of them. The pennant was mine! Something kept ringing that in my ears. With the Rube working his iron arm for the edification of his proud Nancy Brown, there was extreme likelihood of divers shutouts and humiliating defeats for some Eastern League teams.
    How well I