“Stop car!” hissed Bean.  The car halted three feet from the young man on foot.

“Jump in!” gasped Bean.

“Thanks,” said the young man; “I’m going the other way.”

“Me, too!  I was turning around just here.”

The young man hesitated, surveying his interlocutor.

“Well,” he said, “if it won’t be too much trouble?”

“Trouble!” The word was a caress as Bean uttered it.  He pushed a door open, clumsy with excitement, and the World’s Greatest Pitcher stepped in to sit beside him.

“Grounds?” asked Bean.

“Yes,” said the Pitcher, “if it’s convenient.”

“Polo Grounds,” called Bean to Paul.  “Hurry and turn around there, someway.”  He was afraid his guest might reconsider.

But the guest sat contentedly enough, the car was turned, and presently was speeding back toward town.  The person in a taxi-cab which made the same turn a moment later was heard to say, “What the devil now?” with no discernible relevance.

“Living out this way?” asked Bean when he was again certain of his voice-control.

“No; only went out to stay over night with some friends.  Had to get back this morning.  They told me to take that car and change at—­”

“Ought to have one these,” said Bean, “then you know where you are.”

“This runs well,” said the Pitcher affably.

“’S little old last year’s car,” said Bean with skilled ennui.

He was trying to remember—­mustn’t talk to a ball-player about ball; they’re sick of it.

“Got a busy day ahead of me in the Street,” he said brightly.  “I was only taking a little spin to get my head cleared out.  Have to keep your head clear down there!”

“Say, that’s some suit you have on,” said the Pitcher with frank admiration.  “I like that check.”

“Do you?” asked Bean, trying not to choke.  Then, “Where’d you get yours?  I was noticing that suit the other night; saw you up at Claremont—­”

“Couple of pals of mine when I’m in town—­”

“That white line against the blue comes out great in the day time.  Cut well, too.  I see you got one those patent neck-capes that prevents wrinkling below the coat-collar.  And extension safety pockets, I suppose?”

“Match pockets, change pockets, pencil pockets, fountain pen pockets, improved secret money pocket, right here; see?” The speaker indicated the last mentioned item.  “Flower holder up here under the lapel.”  He revealed it.

“I have ’em make a vestee,” said Bean; “goes on with gold pins; adds dressiness, the man says.”

The Pitcher revealed a vestee, adjusted with gold pins.

The red car moved as smoothly as if nothing had happened.

Next was made the momentous discovery that each wore a shirt with the identical lavender stripe.

“Initials!” said Bean, pulling up the sleeve of his coat and rotating his fore-arm under the Pitcher’s approving glance.