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She dropped her hands quickly to her sides and had not a word to say. "Don't he look like me?" Mr. Darley now appealed to Sydney, who managed to stammer out: "I certainly see a strong resemblance, sir." "What is your last name, young man?" went on the other. Miles hesitated an instant. He was about to say Darley, but some happy instinct prompted him to substitute "Morrisey." Mr. Darley started.
"That boy you had the fight with, Miles," he said "Jimmy, I think you told Rex his name was did you never ask him any questions about what he overheard that night?" "No. Mr. Morrisey seemed not to want me to talk about it, and besides, I never would have asked Jimmy after what had happened." "But you'd ask him now, wouldn't you?" went on Sydney. "You say that you heard his mother was dead.
"I reckon we'll be in the lead tonight then," he replied, "for I'll win them both." I was about to reply when Dave, the ground-keeper, called me to the door, saying there was a man to see me. I went out, and there stood Morrisey, manager of the Chicago American League team. We knew each other well and exchanged greetings.
One Sunday morning found me, how or why I cannot now remember, at the Morrisey ranch. A number of young people had gathered there from the nearer ranches. Besides, the oldsters had been there, drinking since early dawn, and, some of them, since the night before. The Morriseys were a huge breed, and there were many strapping great sons and uncles, heavy-booted, big-fisted, rough-voiced.
But when I went down to the bench I saw her up in my private box with Milly. It took no second glance to see that Nan Brown was a bride and glorying in the fact. Then, in the absorption of the game, I became oblivious to Milly and Nan; the noisy crowd; the giant fire-crackers and the smoke; to the presence of Morrisey; to all except the Rube and my team and their opponents.
"The first thing I can remember is living in a tenement house in New York, where I had to sleep three in a bed with the two Morrisey boys. Mr. Morrisey was a truckman, and there was five children of them, and I made six. I always thought I was a Morrisey, too, till one day Jimmy, he got mad at me, and told me I needn't talk so big because I was only living on charity.
"With a good deal of trouble I found one of them. He was a bricklayer, and he told me as near as he could remember the man who gave me to Tim Morrisey was from Philadelphia, and that's all he knew. "Then I wanted to go to Philadelphia. "'But what good will that do you, Miles? Mr. Beesley asked. 'You can't find out any more there, nor as much, as you can here.
I learned that the soldiers had made a corner in eggs and had bought nearly all of them, which, of course, made them scarce at the hotels and eating places. All the water used in the hotel is filtered through a huge block of brownstone and even then it is pretty poor. "Mr. Morrisey visited the place known as the market in the heart of the city of Ponce, and saw some very interesting scenes.
Morrisey in speaking of the Ponce of to-day says that 'the city is in a horrible sanitary condition, and I wondered how the United States troops stood it. I learned there had been an improvement since the soldiers' arrival, but there is room for considerable more, I think. I went to the Hotel Ingleterra, which is considered the best one in Ponce, and engaged a room.
"Your rube is a wonder, and that's a fact," he said to me several times. "Where on earth did you get him? Connelly, he's my meat. Do you understand? Can you let me have him right now?" "No, Morrisey, I've got the pennant to win first. Then I'll sell him." "How much? Do you hear? How much?" Morrisey hammered the table with his fist and his eyes gleamed.
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