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Show ! A Pardonable Deception. BY JENNIE EDDIE. (Copyright. 1902, by Dailv Story Pub. Co.) There was dire consternation in athletic circles of the University of Michigan when Stubby Shaw's resignation resig-nation from the ball team came In just two weeks before the Cornell game. Moreover, this young man remained re-mained firm as adamant in the face of entreaties, expostulations, threats. "It's my own fault," he insisted. "Father wouldn't have said a word if I had passed my exams. But as it is, I've got to brace up in Math or go home, and baseball is strictly ruled out." Thompson, who was manager of the team, was the brother of a very and nowhere was greater loyalty shown than in the ranks of the alumni alum-ni the "old grads." Was it Fate that induced the Rev. John Shaw to leave his cozy study on that great day and take the suburban for Detroit? He certainly knew nothing about the game until the flaunting streamers of yellow and blue stirred something warm in the depths of his heart and brought a mist before his eyes. "Well, well, Shaw. Down for the game, I suppose," said a jolly voice as a pair of big hands grasped his own heartily. "God bless my soul if it isn't Jack Thornton," exclaimed the minister. "What game is it?" "Why, don't you know? Cornell and Michigan. Best game of the year. bounded across the field. The man that sent it did not stop to loot. He was half way to his base before the crowd realized that he had made a hit. On, on, would he ever get to second? sec-ond? Yes, and he dares to try for third. Now the outfielders are after the ball as it skims the ground. The right fielder has caught it! No, he fumbles. He turns swiftly but the man is past third and running for dear life. The ball has started on its long journey home. It is almost in the catcher's grasp. The runner sees it. He is so near, but will he ever make the goal? The catcher jumps back a foot to get the ball. The runner run-ner drops to the ground, slides his full length and stretches a long muscular mus-cular arm to the plate. His fingers touch it a full second before the catcher has the ball and the announcement announce-ment of the umpire that Michigan has a home run is drowned in the thunderous thun-derous roars from the grand stand. Everybody is jumping up and down, yelling like mad. The Rev. John Shaw Is swinging his hat and pounding pound-ing the floor with his best umbrella. "Rah! Rah! Rah!" he finds himself yelling, and then a magnificent howl breaks forth from a thousand throats, "Stubby! Stubby! Stubby !". "That's a boy to be proud of," said Jack Thornton to John Shaw. "Indeed, he is!" returned that gentleman gen-tleman enthusiastically. "If that was my boy, I'd rather have him make that run than take the Latin scholarship!" scholar-ship!" Another tally for the U. of M. was added by the good plays of the succeeding ten minutes, but the wild fever with which they continued to cheer Stubby remained unabated. When the game ended with Michigan 2, Cornell 1, the Rev. John Shaw bent : over a lad of ten who had been one pretty girl whom Stubby had adored for three years. Their engagement was but a few hours old when sentence sen-tence was passed upon Stubby's sporting sport-ing career by his hitherto indulgent father. The Rev. John Shaw loved his only son with all the strength of his earnest, earn-est, strong heart, and because of that love he was ambitious that John Jr., should make a success of life from Start to finish. He had sent him proudly to his own Alma Mater and had watched his progress with tender solicitude, hoping, longing for Bome evidence of especial brilliancy, yet ever patiently content with his mediocre medi-ocre attainments. "He hasn't found himself yet," the fond father would Bay, "but when he does " and the pleasant old gray eyes would light up with an almost divine fire as his mind pictured the roseate future of his son. On a perfect spring morning Mr. Shaw received a letter from his boy. It was a frank, manly letter, telling of his love for Margaret Thompson, her promise to be his wife, and asking ask-ing his father's approval of the engagement. en-gagement. The maid interrupted his reverie. "A telegram for you, sir." He tore It open and road It with a puzzled smile. "Do you consent to John's engagement engage-ment to Margaret? Telegraph reply. "R. Thompson." "Rather singular," said Mr. Shaw. "I never had such an experience before. be-fore. But then it's a good many years since I knew anything about love affairs. af-fairs. This must be the latest formality." for-mality." Two hours later Thompson burst Into Stubby's room waving a bit of yellow paper. "I've got it," he shouted, shout-ed, holding it still long enough for Stubby to read. "I give my consent. John Shaw." "What docs it mean?" of the wildest enthusiasts. "Can you tell me, my boy, what Stubby's other name is?" The child looked at him in disgust. "Stubby? Don't you know Stubby Shaw? Why, everybody knows him!" Down in the dressing room Mr. Shaw found a mob of young men fairly tumbliag over each other in jubilant glee as they shook hands-with hands-with everybody again and again, pounded each other on the back, and hurrahed for Stubby. It was with difficulty that the elderly gentleman made his way to the inside of this room where the hero sat perched on the shoulders of his vociferous admirers, ad-mirers, but the crowd parted like magic at his words, "I am Stubby's father." "I'm proud of you, my boy," he said. "That play atones even for your disobedience." Thompson interrupted, inter-rupted, "I deceived you both, Mr. Shaw," he said humbly, "but you see we just had to have Stubby play. He thought your telegram concerned the game " "That's all right, I'm much obliged to you, Thompson." "What's the matter with Mr. Shaw?" shouted the captain of th team. "Fellows, here goes, three cheers for him." The people outside thought it was another edition of the same old story. "Listen," said one. "They're cheering Stubby again." But the. Rev. John Shaw and the team knew better. "I'm proud of you, my boy." You used to be better posted on these things in our day, eh, Shaw?" Visions of his long forgotten triumphs on the diamond made him smile reflectively, reflect-ively, and when Jack Thornton hailed a car headed for the ball grounds, he followed mechanically. They took a front seat in the grand stand among unfamiliar faces. There was the usual chatter as the teams took the field for their preliminary practice. Mr. Shaw recognized anecdotes of Sta-cey Sta-cey and Learning and a good deal was said about some one they called Stubby, Stub-by, but this was evidently a new member mem-ber whom his son had never mentioned. men-tioned. He began to grow a trifle jealous of this same Stubby when they told of his splendid form, his boundless popularity, his inexhaustible inexhausti-ble good-nature. He started once to ask who this young paragon was, but just then the game was called. Cornell came to bat first. Three men were struck out in .quick succession. succes-sion. The Michigan pitcher was certainly cer-tainly starting well. A murmur of delight went up from the crowd of partisans, but when Michigan also failed to score the outlook was not so promising. Eight innings were played rapidly with no score on either side. Then Cornell again lined up. A whizzing sound, a well aimed stroke, and Cornell had a man on first. There was a perfect storm of applause from the little group of New Yorkers who had accompanied their team. Whether this inspired their men or rattled the Michigan pitcher, the result was the same. The game was now Michigan Mich-igan 0, Cornell 1. To Fay that the crowd was now mad with excitement excite-ment is utterly inexpressive. There was a death like stillness when Stacey came to bat. "Strike one. Strike two. Strike three." It was Warren's turn. "Strike one! Strike two! Strike three!" A groan of despair told the story of shattered hopes. Then a third man steped to the plate. The entire responsibility of the day lay on those broad shoulders. He did not seem aware of the seriousness of the situation or was he indifferent to it? Suddenly, whizz! came the ball on an incalculable curve. A firm, strong blow, directed as carelessly as though the whole world were not waiting breathless its result, and the ball skimmed the ground at the pitcher's feet, slipped through his hands and Ilfi! Ill : Read it with a puzzled smile, gasped Stubby. "Mean? Why it means that you agreed to stay on the team until after the Cornell game if I got yo-ur father's consent, and here it is." The famous shortstop was speechless with joy, but he wrung his friends hand until Thompson winded and drew it away. The practice weeks were gone before be-fore anyone realized it and the morning morn-ing of the great day dawned clear and crisp. Hundreds of students loaded the special for Detroit. That city waa In gala nttire. College enthusiasm was fairly saturating the atmosphere |