poses of the gamesters. I do not claim for myself any degree of puritanical perfection; but I was sick and sore of existing conditions; ready to get away from them—the sooner the better. I had made up my mind fully to one thing; that unless a change soon took place in the management of the game, I was done with it at once and forever.
I was greatly impressed by the personality of Mr. Hulbert at our first meeting, in Chicago, early in 1875. He seemed strong, forceful, self-reliant. I admired his business-like way of considering things. I was sure that he was a man of tremendous energy—and courage. He told me of the interest of Chicago in Base Ball; how that thousands of lovers of the game at Chicago were wild for a winning team, but couldn't get one; how she had been repeatedly robbed of her players, and, under Eastern control of the Professional Association, had no recourse. It seemed to me that he was more deeply chagrined at the insult to Chicago than over that city's failure to make a creditable representation in the game. I told him that I was quite familiar with the entire situation; that it was the same all over the West—no city had any show under the present regime; that the spirit of gambling and graft held possession of the sport everywhere; that the public was disgusted and wouldn't patronize the pastime, and, finally, that unless there was a new deal throughout, with a cleaning out of the gamblers, both in and outside the Base Ball profession, I, for one, proposed to quit.
We talked for quite a while upon the different phases of the situation, and then he said to me: "Spalding, you've no business playing in Boston; you're a Western
