To Bean's amazement the car had stopped before the players' entrance. He had supposed himself miles back in the country. Did he want to go inside for a while! He was out of the car as quickly as Nap could have achieved it.
"What did you say your name was?" asked the Pitcher.
He was in a long room lined with lockers. He recognized several players lounging there. A big man with a hard face, half in a uniform, was singing, "Though Silver Threads Are 'Mong the Gold, I Love You Just the Same." These men were requested to shake hands with the Pitcher's friend, Mr. Bean. They were also told informally that his new check suit was some suit.
"I'll soon have one coming off the same piece," said the Pitcher.
They went through a little door and out upon the grounds. A few players were idling there, only two of the pitchers being in uniform. The vast empty stands and bleachers seemed to confer privacy upon an informal and friendly gathering.
Several more players shook hands with the Pitcher's friend, Mr. Bean, and the circumstance of his presence was explained.
"I found your twist-paw out in the brush with nothing but a bum trolley car between him and a long walk," said Bean jauntily.
"He's got the prettiest red car that ever made you jump at a crossing," added the Pitcher.
They sat on the bench together.
"He winds up like old Sycamore," said Bean
