to accompany us to the grounds this afternoon,” Wright said, “I’ll arrange a seat at the scoring table. Mr. Millar can answer your questions.”

Millar nodded glumly across the table, clearly not overjoyed by the assignment. But next to him Champion was beaming.

“Our California visitor,” Champion rumbled, “can thus report our hospitality as well as our sporting deeds.”

No talk of drunkards now, I reflected. Not when old Stuffed Shirt thought he was dealing with the press.

“Thanks.” I looked at Millar. “I’ll probably have thousands of questions.”

The breakfast we sat down to was the most amazing of my life. Bowls of porridge similar to oatmeal were served with fresh strawberries and thick cream. Then platters of steaks, eggs, fried potatoes, and hot biscuits. Then more platters of buckwheat cakes and fried bread. And still more heaped with thick slices of pie. They kept coming, overlapping, so that you could finish the pie and start all over again with porridge if you wished—and were able. I thought I was a big eater, but when I finally leaned back, Andy was reaching for another steak.

“Don’t you have to play a game today?”

He laughed and wielded his knife. “Not till three.”

“What happens in the meantime?”

“Well, the Alerts—they’re the Rochester club—offered to drive us around to see the sights, but with the weather bein’ what it is, I doubt many of the boys’ll turn out.” He glanced up. “Well, if it ain’t ol’ Acey and Innocent Fred.”

I followed his gaze and saw Brainard approaching with a stocky, barrel-chested man whose bowed legs gave him a rolling gait. Brainard was a picture of elegance in a blue cutaway coat with satin lapels, plaid waistcoat, and tapered gray trousers. A carnation graced his lapel. His jet hair and whiskers gleamed with oil.

“Top o’ the day, Sam.” He sat opposite me, dark spaniel eyes friendly, as casual as if we breakfasted together every morning. “This is my sidekick, Fred Waterman.”

Waterman’s high balding forehead and bland expression gave him the unctuous quality of a church deacon. But his eyes glinted with devilish humor as we shook hands. He must have heard about the flask.

“What position you play?” I asked.

“Third sack.” His handlebar mustache moved with the words. “Some at change catcher—though Andy can have that.” He grinned, revealing tobacco-stained teeth. His gaze traveled slowly over my suit.

My fuzziness was by no means gone, and his scrutiny bothered me. For a moment I toyed with the notion of simply blurting out that I was from another century and needed their help. But what could they do? They’d doubtless figure I was demented anyway. And back here, I remembered, crazy people were thrown into hellhole sanatoriums.

“Do you suppose,” I asked Andy as the others loaded their plates, “you could loan me enough to buy some clothes?”

“You bet,” he said with no hesitation. “How about Acey helping fit you out? He always cuts a dash.”

“Sure, if he wants.”

“Whadaya say, Acey? Freddy?”

Waterman shook his head. “That’s Acey’s territory.”

Brainard considered. “Don’t care if I do,” he offered, which turned out to mean “count me in.” He appraised me. “I think I know just the place.”

“Not too high-toned,” Andy warned. “All of us ain’t in the dimes.”

“Pinchpenny ne’er served any,” Brainard countered. “A true gent ain’t gonna stint on his appearance.”

“That’s a soft snap for you, Acey, with your fat star salary.”

“Maybe we should forget it,” I said.

“Don’t let him squeeze our scheme,” Brainard said, as if the idea had been his. “The way Andy kicks you’d think he was on his case note. I’ll pitch in if the cost gets steep.” He looked at me shrewdly. “Besides, you figure to pay us back, don’t you?”

“Certainly,” I said. And wondered how.

“I got a hunch about you, Sam,” he said as we walked out through the lobby, where a number of men sat smoking cigars and reading newspapers on horsehide divans. “Can’t say why, but I think our little investment will pay off.”

“I’ve felt that about Sam right along,” said Andy.

“I hope I don’t let you d—” My words were lost as I stepped through the front doors and was assaulted by the street. My first impressions were of swarming people and animals and conveyances. Water standing in puddles from earlier showers was sprayed in slicing arcs by passing vehicles. I saw a woman gazing mournfully at the mud-coated hem of her long dress.

Noise resounded everywhere—a din of yelling voices, clopping hooves, rattling iron-rimmed carriage wheels clanking and skittering over the wet cobblestones. From the nearby train house emanated rumblings and belches. Opposite us stood a brick building bearing a large sign.

CENTRAL MILLS FLOUR & FEED

Shrieks of heavy grinding machinery sounded inside. The air around us was awash with whitish particles. I had trouble drawing a deep breath.

“What is this stuff?”

“Wheat dust,” Andy yelled. “Rochester’s called the Flour City, you know.”

The air was cleaner on Front Street, where we walked along the Genesee. Barges rode the green channel and smoke poured from funnels of river freighters. I couldn’t see how so many churning craft avoided colliding. A chorus of bells and horns reached our ears. Along the docks stevedores swore and shouted, swarming over drays and wagons and carts, while teamsters cracked their long whips over the backs of horses and mules.

“Busy place,” I said.

“Thing’s ’re boomin’ along the canal, too,” Andy said. “It comes into the Genesee just a few squares down.”

We turned up from the river toward the commercial district. The brick sidewalks ended. I stepped around muddy puddles and piles of manure. Stenches worked the thick air. Garbage lay in stinking heaps before buildings, hogs and chickens picking through it. The morning was humid but fairly cool. I wondered what olfactory assaults hot weather would bring.

“This place is filthy,” I said.

Andy looked surprised. “Air’s a sight better here than in Smoky City.”

“Smoky City?”

“Cincinnati.”

“You’re sayin’ Frisco’s clean?” Brainard said.

I pictured lower Market. “No, but these hogs . . .”

“Hogs eat slops,” Andy said. “Clean the streets.”

So much for that. The enormous distance between us was

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