BUTTERED SIDE DOWN
little old, too, and drawn, at that minute. He stretched forth a rather tremulous hand.
"Ivy—girl," he said.
"What?" snapped Ivy.
"Your old father's just talking for your own good. You're breaking your ma's heart. You and me have been good pals, haven't we?"
"Yes," said Ivy, grudgingly, and without looking up.
"Well now, look here. I've got a proposition to make to you. The season's over in two more weeks. The last week they play out of town. Then the boys'll come back for a week or so, just to hang around town and try to get used to the idea of leaving us. Then they'll scatter to take up their winter jobs—cutting ice, most of 'em," he added, grimly.
"Mr. Schlachweiler is employed in a large establishment in Slatersville, Ohio," said Ivy, with dignity. "He regards baseball as his profession, and he cannot do anything that would affect his pitching arm."
Pa Keller put on the tremolo stop and brought a misty look into his eyes.
"Ivy, you'll do one last thing for your old father, won't you?"
[72]
