A feeling of most intense rivalry in the base-ball line existed between Des Moines and Clinton, Iowa, and one time when the former had a match on with the latter I received an offer of fifty dollars from the Clinton team to go on there and play with them in a single game.
Now fifty dollars at that time was more money than I had ever had at any one time in my life, and so without consulting any one I determined to accept the offer.

I knew that I would be compelled to disguise myself in order to escape recognition either by members of the Des Moines team or by some of the spectators, and this I proceeded to do by dying my hair, staining my skin, etc.
I did not think that my own father could recognize me, when I completed my preparations and started to the depot to take the train for Des Moines, but that was where I made a mistake.

The old gentleman ran against me on the platform, penetrated my disguise at once and asked me where I was going.

I told him, and then he remarked that I should do no such thing, and he started me back home in a hurry.

When he got there he gave me a lecture, told me that such a proceeding on my part was not honest and would ruin my reputation.