"I mean, when did you first begin to care for me?"

"Oh! When you put three men out in that game with
Marshalltown when the teams were tied in the eighth inning.
Remember? Say, Rudie dear, what was the matter with your arm
to-day? You let three men walk, and Albia's weakest hitter got a
home run out of you."

"Oh, forget baseball for a minute, Ivy! Let's talk about
something else. Let's talk about--us."

"Us? Well, you're baseball, aren't you?" retorted Ivy. "And
if you are, I am. Did you notice the way that Ottumwa man pitched
yesterday? He didn't do any acting for the grandstand. He didn't
reach up above his head, and wrap his right shoulder with his left
toe, and swing his arm three times and then throw seven inches
outside the plate. He just took the ball in his hand, looked at it
curiously for a moment, and fired it--zing!--like that, over the
plate. I'd get that ball if I were you."

"Isn't this a grand night?" murmured Rudie.

"But they didn't have a hitter in the bunch," went on Ivy.
"And not a man in the team could run. That's why they're
tail-enders. Just the same, that man on the mound was a wizard,
and if he had one decent player to give him some support----"

Well, the thing came to a climax. One evening, two weeks
before the close of the season, Ivy put on her hat and announced