Archie understood, and his generous nature chafed at the innuendo.  Looney Biddle—­so-called by an affectionately admiring public as the result of certain marked eccentricities—­was beyond dispute the greatest left-handed pitcher New York had possessed in the last decade.  But there was one blot on Mr. Biddle’s otherwise stainless scutcheon.  Five weeks before, on the occasion of the Giants’ invasion of Pittsburg, he had gone mysteriously to pieces.  Few native-born partisans, brought up to baseball from the cradle, had been plunged into a profounder gloom on that occasion than Archie; but his soul revolted at the thought that that sort of thing could ever happen again.

“I’m not saying,” continued Reggie, “that Biddle isn’t a very fair pitcher, but it’s cruel to send him against the Pirates, and somebody ought to stop it.  His best friends should interfere.  Once a team gets a pitcher rattled, he’s never any good against them again.  He loses his nerve.”

The jeweller nodded approval of this sentiment.

“They never come back,” he said, sententiously.

The fighting blood of the Moffams was now thoroughly stirred.  Archie eyed his friend sternly.  Reggie was a good chap—­in many respects an extremely sound egg—­but he must not be allowed to talk rot of this description about the greatest left-handed pitcher of the age.

“It seems to me, old companion,” he said, “that a small bet is indicated at this juncture.  How about it?”

“Don’t want to take your money.”

“You won’t have to!  In the cool twilight of the merry old summer evening I, friend of my youth and companion of my riper years, shall be trousering yours.”

Reggie yawned.  The day was very hot, and this argument was making him feel sleepy again.

“Well, just as you like, of course.  Double or quits on yesterday’s bet, if that suits you.”

For a moment Archie hesitated.  Firm as his faith was in Mr. Biddle’s stout left arm, he had not intended to do the thing on quite this scale.  That thousand dollars of his was earmarked for Lucille’s birthday present, and he doubted whether he ought to risk it.  Then the thought that the honour of New York was in his hands decided him.  Besides, the risk was negligible.  Betting on Looney Biddle was like betting on the probable rise of the sun in the east.  The thing began to seem to Archie a rather unusually sound and conservative investment.  He remembered that the jeweller, until he drew him firmly but kindly to earth and urged him to curb his exuberance and talk business on a reasonable plane, had started brandishing bracelets that cost about two thousand.  There would be time to pop in at the shop this evening after the game and change the one he had selected for one of those.  Nothing was too good for Lucille on her birthday.

“Right-o!” he said.  “Make it so, old friend!”

Archie walked back to the Cosmopolis.  No misgivings came to mar his perfect contentment.  He felt no qualms about separating Reggie from another thousand dollars.  Except for a little small change in the possession of the Messrs. Rockefeller and Vincent Astor, Reggie had all the money in the world and could afford to lose.  He hummed a gay air as he entered the lobby and crossed to the cigar-stand to buy a few cigarettes to see him through the afternoon.