her parasol on the ground as if it were a shillelagh. "Timothy Casey, would
you be a dumb Mick? Can't you see? I'll bet Mr. Drinkwater's bought every bit
of real estate out there. I'll wager he's going to build an amusement park,
a...another baseball grounds. Can't you see that? You breathed life back into
our little town, and now he's stealing you from us. That's worse than breakin'
any law. Ah, that's breakin' th' spirit."
Casey began to protest, and made the mistake of holding up the $500 bill. When
he did, Flossie slapped it away, and he had to scramble after it. By the time
he had retrieved the money, his Flossie was weaving in and out among the
When Casey got
back to the Parker House, a package was waiting for him at the bell stand. He
opened it, and there was Flossie's new dress. A note was pinned to it. It said,
"Dear Timothy, I'm sorry, but I cannot accept this or what you are doing
with yourself. Do not come calling on me again. Very truly yours, Florence M.
Casey crumpled up
the note in anger and rushed over to the front desk with the open package in
his hands. A well-dressed man with a horseshoe pin on his cravat was standing
there. He looked over Casey, looked over the dress. "Woman trouble?" he
asked, but sympathetically.
him. To the clerk, he said, "What room is Miss Phoebe Alexander in,
Casey grabbed a
pen, dashed off a note and called for a bellboy.
sorry," said the man with the horseshoe pin. "I didn't mean to bother
you, but you look like a boxer."
Not me. I'm a ballist."
I'm sorry. It's just that I'm a fancy man." He put out his hand.
" Richard Fox, of The Police Gazette."