THE
REDHEADED
OUTFIELD
ANDOTHERBASEBALLSTORIES
CONTENTS
THEREDHEADEDOUTFIELD
THERUBE
THERUBE’SPENNANT
THERUBE’SHONEYMOON
THERUBE’SWATERLOO
BREAKINGINTOFASTCOMPANY
THEKNOCKER
THEWINNINGBALL
FALSECOLORS
THEMANAGEROFMADDEN’SHILL
OLDWELL—WELL
THEREDHEADEDOUTFIELD
ANDOTHERBASEBALLSTORIES
TherewasDelaney’sred—hairedtrio——RedGilbat，leftfielder;ReddyClammer，rightfielder，andReddieRay，centerfielder，composingthemostremarkableoutfieldeverdevelopedinminorleaguebaseball。ItwasDelaney’spride，asitwasalsohistrouble。
RedGilbatwasnutty——andhisbattingaveragewas。371。AnystudentofbaseballcouldweighthesetwofactsagainsteachotherandunderstandsomethingofDelaney’strouble。ItwasnotpossibletocamponRedGilbat’strail。Themanwasajack—o’—lantern，awill—o’—the—wisp，aweird，long—
legged，long—armed，red—hairedillusivephantom。
WhenthegongrangattheballgroundsthereweretenchancestoonethatRedwouldnotbepresent。Hehadbeendiscoveredwithsmallboyspeepingthroughknotholesatthevacantleftfieldhewassupposedtoinhabitduringplay。
OfcoursewhatReddidofftheballgroundswasnotsoimportantaswhathedidon。Andtherewasabsolutelynotellingwhatunderthesunhemightdothenexceptonceoutofeverythreetimesatbathecouldbecountedontoknockthecoverofftheball。
ReddyClammerwasagrand—standplayer——thekindallmanagershated——andhewashitting。305。
Hemadecircuscatches，circusstops，circusthrows，circussteals——butparticularlycircuscatches。Thatistosay，hemadeeasyplaysappeardifficult。Hewasalwaysstrutting，posing，talking，arguing，quarreling——whenhewasnotengagedinmakingagrand—standplay。ReddyClammerusedeverypossibleincidentandartificetobringhimselfintothelimelight。
ReddieRayhadbeentheintercollegiatechampioninthesprintsandafamouscollegeballplayer。Afterafewmonthsofprofessionalballhewashittingover。400andleadingtheleaguebothatbatandonthebases。Itwasabeautifulandathrillingsighttoseehimrun。Hewassoquicktostart，somarvelouslyswift，sokeenofjudgment，thatneitherDelaneynoranyplayercouldevertellthehitthathewasnotgoingtoget。ThatwaswhyReddieRaywasawholegameinhimself。
Delaney’sRochesterStarsandtheProvidenceGraysweretiedforfirstplace。Ofthepresentserieseachteamhadwonagame。Rivalryhadalwaysbeenkeen，andastheteamswereabouttoenterthelonghomestretchforthepennanttherewasbattleintheNewEnglandair。
TheSeptemberdaywasperfect。Thestandswerehalffullandthebleacherspackedwithawhite—sleevedmass。Andthefieldwasbeautifullylevelandgreen。TheGrayswerepracticingandtheStarswereontheirbench。
``We’reupagainstit，’’Delaneywassaying。
``Thisnewumpire，Fuller，hasn’tgotitinforus。
Oh，no，notatall！Believeme，he’sarobber。
ButScottispitchin’well。Wonhislastthreegames。He’llbother’em。AndthethreeRedshavebrokenloose。They’reontherampage。
They’llburnupthisplacetoday。’’
SomebodynotedtheabsenceofGilbat。
Delaneygaveasuddenstart。``Why，Gilwashere，’’hesaidslowly。``Lord！——he’saboutdueforanuttystunt。’’
WhereuponDelaneysentboysandplayersscurryingabouttofindGilbat，andDelaneywenthimselftoasktheProvidencemanagertoholdbackthegongforafewminutes。
PresentlysomebodybroughtDelaneyatelephonemessagethatRedGilbatwasplayingballwithsomeboysinalotfourblocksdownthestreet。WhenatlengthacoupleofplayersmarcheduptothebenchwithRedintowDelaneyutteredanimmensesighofreliefandthen，afteraclosescrutinyofRed’sface，hewhispered，``Lockthegates！’’
Thenthegongrang。TheGraystroopedin。
TheStarsranout，exceptGilbat，whoambledlikeagiraffe。Thehumofconversationinthegrandstandquickenedforamomentwiththescrapingofchairs，andthengrewquiet。Thebleacherssentuptherollickingcryofexpectancy。Theumpirethrewoutawhiteballwithhisstentorian``Play！’’andBlakeoftheGraysstrodetotheplate。
Hittingsafely，hestartedthegamewitharush。
WithDorrup，theStarinfieldplayedforabunt。
LikeclockworkDorrdumpedthefirstballasBlakegothisflyingstartforsecondbase。Morrisseytoreinfortheball，gotitontherunandsnappeditunderhandtoHealy，beatingtherunnerbyaninch。ThefastBlake，withalongslide，madethirdbase。Thestandsstamped。Thebleachershowled。White，nextmanup，battedahighflytoleftfield。Thiswasasunfieldandthehardesttoplayintheleague。RedGilbatwastheonlymanwhoeverplayeditwell。Hejudgedthefly，waitedunderit，tookastephack，thenforward，anddeliberatelycaughttheballinhisglovedhand。Athrow—intocatchtherunnerscoringfromthirdbasewouldhavebeenfutile，butitwasnotlikeRedGilbattofailtotry。HetossedtheballtoO’Brien。AndBlakescoredamidapplause。
``Whatdoyouknowaboutthat？’’ejaculatedDelaney，wipinghismoistface。``IneverbeforesawournuttyRedheadpulloffaplaylikethat。’’
SomeoftheplayersyelledatRed，``Thisisatwo—handedleague，youbat！’’
ThefirstfiveplayersonthelistfortheGrayswereleft—handedbatters，andagainstaright—
handedpitcherwhosemosteffectiveballforthemwasahighfastoneovertheoutercornertheywouldnaturallyhittowardleftfield。ItwasnosurprisetoseeHanleybataskyscraperouttoleft。
Redhadtoruntogetunderit。Hebracedhimselfratherunusuallyforafielder。Hetriedtocatchtheballinhisbarerighthandandmuffedit，Hanleygottosecondontheplaywhiletheaudienceroared。WhentheygotthroughtherewassomeroaringamongtheRochesterplayers。ScottandCaptainHealyroaredatRed，andRedroaredbackatthem。
``It’salloff。Redneverdidthatbefore，’’criedDelaneyindespair。``He’sgonecleanbughousenow。’’
Babcockwasthenextmanupandhelikewisehittoleft。Itwasalow，twistingball——halffly，halfliner——andadifficultonetofield。Gilbatranwithgreatbounds，andthoughhemighthavegottwohandsontheballhedidnottry，butthistimecaughtitinhisright，retiringtheside。
TheStarstrottedin，ScottandHealyandKane，allveterans，lookinglikethunderclouds。Redambledinthelastandheseemedverynonchalant。
``ByGosh，I’d’a’ketchedthatoneImuffedifI’dhadtimetochangehands，’’hesaidwithagrin，andheexposedahandfulofpeanuts。Hehadrefusedtodropthepeanutstomakethecatchwithtwohands。Thatexplainedthemystery。Itwasfunny，yetnobodylaughed。TherewasthatrunchalkedupagainsttheStars，andthisgamehadtobewon。
``Red，I——Iwanttotaketheteamhomeinthelead，’’saidDelaney，anditwasplainthathesuppressedstrongfeeling。``Youdidn’tplaythegame，youknow。’’
Redappearedmightilyashamed。
``Del，I’llgitthatrunback，’’hesaid。
Thenhestrodetotheplate，swinginghiswagon—
tonguebat。Forallhisawkwardpositionintheboxhelookedwhathewas——aformidablehitter。
Heseemedtotoweroverthepitcher——Redwassixfeetone——andhescowledandshookhisbatatWehyingandcalled，``Putoneover——youwienerwurst！’’Wehyingwasanythingbutred—
headed，andhewastedsomanyballsonRedthatitlookedasifhemightpasshim。Hewouldhavepassedhim，too，ifRedhadnotsteppedoveronthefourthballandswungonit。Whiteatsecondbaseleapedhighforthestinginghit，andfailedtoreachit。Theballstruckandboundedforthefence。WhenBabcockfieldeditin，Redwasstandingonthirdbase，andthebleachersgroaned。
WhereuponChestyReddyClammerproceededtodrawattentiontohimself，andincidentallydelaythegame，byassortingthebatsasiftheaudienceandthegamemightgladlywaityearstoseehimmakeachoice。
``Gitinthegame！’’yelledDelaney。
``Aw，takemybat，DukeoftheAbrubsky！’’
sarcasticallysaidDumpKane。WhenthegrouchyKaneofferedtolendhisbatmatterswerecriticalintheStarcamp。
Otherretortsfollowed，whichReddyClammerdeignednottonotice。Atlasthegotabatthatsuitedhim——andthen，importantly，dramatically，withhiscapjauntilyridinghisredlocks，hemarchedtotheplate。
Somewaginthebleachersyelledintothesilence，``Oh，Maggie，yourloverhascome！’’
NotimprobablyClammerwasthinkingfirstofhispresencebeforethemultitude，secondlyofhisbattingaverageandthirdlyoftheruntobescored。Inthisinstancehewaitedandfeintedatballsandfouledstrikesatlengthtoworkhisbase。
Whenhegottofirstbasesuddenlyheboltedforsecond，andinthesurpriseoftheunlooked—forplayhemadeitbyaspread—eagleslide。Itwasacircussteal。
Delaneysnorted。Thenthelookofprofounddisgustvanishedinaflashoflight。Hishugefacebeamed。
ReddieRaywasstridingtotheplate。
TherewassomethingaboutReddieRaythatpleasedallthesenses。Hislitheformseemedinstinctwithlife;anysuddenmovementwassuggestiveofstoredlightning。Hispositionattheplatewasontheleftside，andhestoodperfectlymotionless，withjustahintoftensewaitingalertness。Dorr，BlakeandBabcock，theoutfieldersfortheGrays，trottedroundtotherightoftheirusualposition。Delaneysmiledderisively，asifheknewhowfutileitwastotellwhatfieldReddieRaymighthitinto。Wehying，theoldfox，warilyeyedtheyoungster，andthrewhimahighcurve，closein。ItgrazedReddie’sshirt，buthenevermovedahair。ThenWehying，afterthemannerofmanyveteranpitcherswhentryingoutanewandmenacingbatter，droveastraightfastballatReddie’shead。Reddieducked，neithertooslownortooquick，justrighttoshowwhataneyehehad，howharditwastopitchto。Thenextwasastrike。Andonthenextheappearedtostepandswinginoneaction。Therewasaringingrap，andtheballshottowardright，curvingdown，avicious，headedhit。Mallory，atfirstbase，snatchedatitandfoundonlytheair。Babcockhadonlytimetotakeafewsharpsteps，andthenheplungeddown，blockedthehitandfoughtthetwistingball。Reddieturnedfirstbase，flittedontowardsecond，wentheadlonginthedust，andshottothebasebeforeWhitegotthethrow—infromBabcock。Then，asWhitewheeledandlinedtheballhometocatchthescoringClammer，ReddieRayleapedup，gothissprinter’sstartand，likearocket，wasoffforthird。Thistimehedovebehindthebase，slidinginahalfcircle，andasHanleycaughtStrickland’sperfectthrowandwhirledwiththeball，Reddie’shandslidtothebag。
Reddiegottohisfeetamidaratherbreathlesssilence。Eventhecoacherswerequiet。Therewasamomentofrelaxation，thenWehyingreceivedtheballfromHanleyandfacedthebatter。
ThiswasDumpKane。Therewasasignofsomekind，almostimperceptible，betweenKaneandReddie。AsWehyinghalfturnedinhisswingtopitch，ReddieRayboundedhomeward。Itwasnotsomuchtheboldnessofhisactionastheamazingswiftnessofitthatheldtheaudiencespellbound。LikeathunderboltReddiecamedowntheline，almostbeatingWehying’spitchtotheplate。ButKane’sbatinterceptedtheball，layingitdown，andReddiescoredwithoutsliding。
Dorr，bysharpwork，justmanagedtothrowKaneout。
Threerunssoquickitwashardtotellhowtheyhadcome。Notinthemajorleaguecouldtherehavebeenfasterwork。Andtheballhadbeenfieldedperfectlyandthrownperfectly。
``Thereyouare，’’saidDelaney，hoarsely。
``Canyoubeatit？Ifyou’vebeenwonderin’howthecrippedStarswonsomanygamesjustputwhatyou’veseeninyourpipeandsmokeit。RedGilbatgetson——ReddyClammergetson——andthenReddieRaydrivesthemhomeorchasesthemhome。’’
Thegamewenton，andthoughitdidnotexactlydragitsloweddownconsiderably。MorrisseyandHealywereretiredoninfieldplays。Andthesideschanged。FortheGrays，O’Brienmadeascratchhit，wenttosecondonStrickland’ssacrifice，stolethirdandscoredonMallory’sinfieldout。Wehyingmissedthreestrikes。IntheStars’turnthethreeendplayersonthebattinglistwereeasilydisposedof。InthethirdinningthecleverBlake，aidedbyabaseonballsandahitfollowing，tiedthescore，andoncemorestruckfireandbrimstonefromtheimpatientbleachers。Providencewasatownthathadtohaveitsteamwin。
``Gitat’em，Reds！’’saidDelaneygruffly。
``Batterup！’’calledUmpireFuller，sharply。
``Where’sRed？Where’sthebug？Where’sthenut？Delaney，didyoulockthegates？Lookunderthebench！’’Theseandotherremarks，notexactlyelegant，attestedtothementalprocessesofsomeoftheStars。RedGilbatdidnotappeartobeforthcoming。TherewasananxiousdelayCapt。Healysearchedforthemissingplayer。
Delaneydidnotsayanymore。
SuddenlyadoorunderthegrandstandopenedandRedGilbatappeared。Hehurriedforhisbatandthenuptotheplate。AndheneverofferedtohitoneoftheballsWehyingshotover。WhenFullerhadcalledthethirdstrikeRedhurriedbacktothedooranddisappeared。
``Somethin’doin’，’’whisperedDelaney。
LordChesterfieldClammerparadedtothebatter’sboxand，aftergraduallysurveyingthefield，asifpickingouttheexactplacehemeanttodrivetheball，hesteppedtotheplate。Thenaroarfromthebleacherssurprisedhim。
``Well，I’llbedog—goned！’’exclaimedDelaney。
``Redstolethatsureasshootin’。’’
RedGilbatwaspushingabrand—newbabycarriagetowardthebatter’sbox。Therewasatitteringinthegrandstand;anotherroarfromthebleachers。Clammer’sfaceturnedasredashishair。Gilbatshovedthebabycarriageupontheplate，spreadwidehislongarms，madeashortpresentationspeechandanelaboratebow，thenbackedaway。
AlleyeswerecenteredonClammer。Ifhehadtakenitrighttheincidentmighthavepassedwithoutunduehilarity。ButClammerbecameabsolutelywildwithrage。Itwaswellknownthathewasunmarried。EquallywellwasitseenthatGilbathadexecutedoneofhisfamoustricks。
Ballplayerswereinclinedtobedignifiedaboutthepresentationofgiftsuponthefield，andClammer，thedude，theswell，thelady’sman，thefavoriteofthebaseballgods——inhisownestimation——
sofarlostcontrolofhimselfthathethrewhisbatathisretreatingtormentor。Redjumpedhighandthebatskippedalongthegroundtowardthebench。Theplayerssidesteppedandleapedand，ofcourse，thebatcrackedoneofDelaney’sbigshins。Hiseyespoppedwithpain，buthecouldnotstoplaughing。Onebyonetheplayerslaydownandrolledoverandyelled。ThesuperiorClammerwasnotoverlikedbyhisco—
players。
Fromthegrandstandfloatedthelaughterofladiesandgentlemen。Andfromthebleachers——
thatthroneofthebiting，ironic，scornfulfans——
pealedupahowlofdelight。Itlastedforafullminute。Then，asquietensued，someboyblewablastofoneofthoseinfernallittleinstrumentsofpipeandrubberballoon，andoverthefieldwailedoutashrill，high—keyedcry，anexcellentimitationofababy。Whereuponthewholeaudienceroared，andindiscomfitureReddyClammerwentinsearchofhisbat。
Tomakehischagrinalltheworseheingloriouslystruckout。Andthenhestrodeawayundertheleaofthegrand—standwalltowardrightfield。
ReddieRaywenttobatand，withtheinfieldplayingdeepandtheoutfieldswungstillfartherroundtotheright，hebuntedalittleteasingballdownthethird—baseline。LikeaflashoflighthehadcrossedfirstbasebeforeHanleygothishandsontheball。ThenKanehitintosecondbase，forcingReddieout。
Againthegameassumedlessspectacularandmoreordinaryplay。BothScottandWehyingheldthebatterssafelyandallowednoruns。Butinthefifthinning，withtheStarsatbatandtwoout，RedGilbatagainelectrifiedthefield。Hesprangupfromsomewhereandwalkedtotheplate，hislongshapeenfoldedinafull—lengthlinenduster。Thecolorandstyleofthisgarmentmightnothavebeenespeciallystriking，butuponRedithadaweirdandwonderfuleffect。
EvidentlyRedintendedtobatwhilearrayedinhislongcoat，forhesteppedintotheboxandfacedthepitcher。Capt。Healyyelledforhimtotakethedusteroff。LikewisedidtheGraysyell。
Thebleachersshriekedtheirdisapproval。Tosaytheleast，RedGilbat’scrazyassurancewasdampeningtotheardorofthemostblindlyconfidentfans。AtlengthUmpireFullerwavedhishand，enjoiningsilenceandcallingtime。
``TakeitofforI’llfineyou。’’
FromhisloftyheightGilbatgazeddownuponthelittleumpire，anditwasplainwhathethought。
``WhatdoIcareformoney！’’repliedRed。
``Thatcostsyoutwenty—five，’’saidFuller。
``Cigarettechange！’’yelledRed。
``Costsyoufifty。’’
``Bah！Gotoaneyedoctor，’’roaredRed。
``Seventy—five，’’addedFuller，imperturbably。
``Makeitahundred！’’
``It’stwohundred。’’
``ROB—B—BER！’’bawledRed。
FullershowedwillingnesstooverlookRed’sbacktalkaswellascostume，andhecalled，``Play！’’
Therewasamountingsensationofpropheticcertainty。OldfoxWehyingappearednervous。
HewastedtwoballsonRed;thenheputoneovertheplate，andthenhewastedanother。Threeballsandonestrike！Thatwasabadplaceforapitcher，andwithRedGilbatupitwasworse。
Wehyingswunglongerandhardertogetallhisleftbehindthethrowandletdrive。Redlungedandcrackedtheball。Itwentupandupandkeptgoingupandfartherout，andasthemurmuringaudiencewasslowlytransfixedintolaterealizationtheballsoaredtoitsheightanddroppedbeyondtheleft—fieldfence。Ahomerun！
RedGilbatgatheredupthetailsofhisduster，afterthemannerofaneatwomancrossingamuddystreet，andambleddowntofirstbaseandontosecond，makingprodigiousjumpsuponthebags，androundthird，tocomedownthehome—
stretchwagginghisredhead。Thenhestoodontheplate，and，asiftoexactrevengefromtheaudienceforthefuntheymadeofhim，hethrewbackhisshouldersandbellowed：``HAW！HAW！
HAW！’’
Notahandclapgreetedhim，butsomemindless，exceedinglyadventurousfanyelled：``Redhead！
Redhead！Redhead！’’
ThatwastheonethingcalculatedtorouseRedGilbat。Heseemedtoflare，tobristle，andhepacedforthebleachers。
Delaneylookedasifhemighthaveastroke。
``Grabhim！Soakhimwithabat！Somebodygrabhim！’’
ButnoneoftheStarswasriskingsomuch，andGilbat，tothehowlingderisionofthegleefulfans，reachedthebleachers。Hestretchedhislongarmsuptothefenceandpreparedtovaultover。
``Where’stheguywhocalledmeredhead？’’heyelled。
Thatwasheapingfuelonthefire。Fromalloverthebleachers，fromeverywhere，cametheobnoxiousword。Redheavedhimselfoverthefenceandpiledintothefans。Thenfollowedtheroarofmanyvoices，thetrampingofmanyfeet，thepressingforwardoflineafterlineofshirt—
sleevedmenandboys。Thatbleacherstandsuddenlyassumedthemaelstromappearanceofasurgingmobroundanagitatedcenter。Inamomentalltheplayersrusheddownthefield，andconfusionreigned。
``Oh！Oh！Oh！’’moanedDelaney。
However，thegamehadtogoon。Delaney，nodoubt，feltallwasover。Neverthelessthereweregamesoccasionallythatseemedanunendingseriesofunprecedentedevents。Thisonehadbegunadmirablytobreakarecord。AndtheProvidencefans，likeallotherfans，hadcultivatedanappetiteasthegameproceeded。Theywerewildtoputtheotherredheadsoutofthefieldoratleastoutfortheinning，wildtotiethescore，wildtowinandwilderthanallformoreexcitement。
Clammerhitsafely。ButwhenReddieRaylinedtothesecondbaseman，Clammer，havingtakenalead，wasdoubledupintheplay。
Ofcourse，thesixthinningopenedwiththeStarsplayingonlyeightmen。Therewasanotherdelay。ProbablyeverybodyexceptDelaneyandperhapsHealyhadforgottentheStarswereshortaman。Fullercalledtime。Theimpatientbleachersbarkedforaction。
Capt。WhitecameovertoDelaneyandcourteouslyofferedtolendaplayerfortheremaininginnings。Thenapompousindividualcameoutofthedoorleadingfromthepressboxes——hewasadirectorDelaneydisliked。
``Guessyou’dbetterletFullercallthegame，’’
hesaidbrusquely。
``Ifyouwantto——asthescorestandsnowinourfavor，’’repliedDelaney。
``Notonyourlife！It’llbeoursorelsewe’llplayitoutandbeatyoutodeath。’’
Hedepartedinhighdudgeon。
``TellReddietoswingoveralittletowardleft，’’wasDelaney’sordertoHealy。Firegleamedinthemanager’seye。
Fullercalledplaythen，withReddyClammerandReddieRaycomposingtheStaroutfield。AndtheGraysevidentlypreparedtodogreatexecutionthroughthewidelanesthusopenedup。Atthatstageitwouldnothavebeenlikematuredballplayerstotrytocrophitsdownintotheinfield。
WhitesentalongflybackofClammer。Reddyhadnotimetoloafonthishit。Itwasallhecoulddotoreachitandhemadeasplendidcatch，forwhichthecrowdroundlyapplaudedhim。ThatapplausewaswinetoReddyClammer。HebegantopranceonhistoesandsingouttoScott：``Make’emhittome，oldman！Make’emhittome！’’
WhetherScottdesiredthatornotwasscarcelypossibletosay;atanyrate，Hanleypoundedahitthroughtheinfield。AndClammer，prancinghighintheairlikeacheck—reinedhorse，rantointercepttheball。Hecouldhavereceiveditinhishands，butthatwouldneverhaveservedReddyClammer。Hetimedthehittoanicety，wentdownwithhisoldgrand—standplayandblockedtheballwithhisanatomy。Delaneyswore。Andthebleachers，nowwarmtowardthegallantoutfielder，lustilycheeredhim。Babcockhitdowntheright—fieldfoulline，givingClammeralongrun。HanleywasscoringandBabcockwassprintingforthirdbasewhenReddygottheball。
Hehadafinearmandhemadeahardandaccuratethrow，catchinghismaninacloseplay。
PerhapsevenDelaneycouldnothavefoundanyfaultwiththatplay。Buttheaftermathspoiledthething。Clammernowrodetheair;hesoared;
hewasintheclouds;itwashisinningandhehadutterlyforgottenhisteammates，exceptinasmuchastheywereperformingmerelittleautomaticmovementstodirectthegreatmachineryinhisdirectionforhissoleachievementandglory。
Thereisfateinbaseballaswellasinotherwalksoflife。O’BrienwasastrappingfellowandheliftedanotherballintoClammer’swideterritory。Thehitwasofthehighandfar—awayvariety。Clammerstartedtorunwithit，notlikeagrimoutfielder，butlikeonethinkingofhimself，hisstyle，hisopportunity，hisinevitablesuccess。Certainitwasthatinthinkingofhimselftheoutfielderforgothissurroundings。Heranacrossthefoulline，headup，hairflying，unheedingthewarningcryfromHealy。And，reachinguptomakehiscrowningcircusplay，hesmashedfaceforwardintothebleachersfence。Then，limpasarag，hedropped。Theaudiencesentforthalonggroanofsympathy。
``Thatwasn’toneofhisstagefalls，’’saidDelaney。``I’llbethe’sdead……PoorReddy！
AndIwanthimtobusthisface！’’
Clammerwascarriedoffthefieldintothedressingroomandaphysicianwassummonedoutoftheaudience。
``Cap。，what’dit——dotohim？’’askedDelaney。
``Aw，spoiledhisprettymug，that’sall，’’
repliedHealy，scornfully。``Mebeehe’lllistentomenow。’’
Delaney’schangewascharacteristicoftheman。
``Well，ifitdidn’tkillhimI’mblamedgladhegotit……Cap，wecantrim’emyet。ReddieRay’llplaythewholeoutfield。GiveReddieachancetorun！Telltheboytocutloose。Andallofyougitinthegame。Winorlose，Iwon’tforgetit。I’veahunch。OnceinawhileIcantellwhat’scomin’
off。Somequeergamethis！Andwe’regoin’towin。Gilbatlostthegame;Clammerthroweditawayagain，andnowReddieRay’sduetowinit……I’mallin，butIwouldn’tmissthefinishtosavemylife。’’
Delaney’sdeeppresagingsenseofbaseballeventswasneverputtoagreatertest。AndthesevenStars，withthescoretied，exhibitedthetemperandtimberofachampionshipteaminthelastditch。Itwassosplendidthatalmostinstantlyitcaughttheantagonisticbleachers。
WhereverthetiredScottfoundrenewedstrengthandspeedwasamystery。Buthestruckoutthehard—hittingProvidencecatcherandthatmadethethirdout。TheStarscouldnotscoreintheirhalfoftheinning。Likewisetheseventhinningpassedwithoutarunforeitherside;onlytheinfieldworkoftheStarswassomethingsuperb。Whentheeighthinningended，withoutatallyforeitherteam，theexcitementgrewtense。
TherewasReddyRayplayingoutfieldalone，andtheGrayswithalltheirdesperateendeavorshadnotliftedtheballoutoftheinfield。
Butintheninth，Blake，thefirstmanup，linedlowtowardrightcenter。Thehitwassafeandlookedgoodforthreebases。Noonelooking，however，hadcalculatedonReddie’sRay’sfleetness。
Hecoveredgroundanddovefortheboundingballandknockeditdown。Blakedidnotgetbeyondfirstbase。Thecrowdcheeredtheplayequallywiththeprospectofarun。Dorrbuntedandbeatthethrow。WhitehitoneofthehighfastballsScottwasservingandsentitclosetotheleft—fieldfoulline。TherunningReddieRaymadeonthatplayheldWhiteatsecondbase。Buttworunshadscoredwithnooneout。
Hanley，thefourthleft—handedhitter，cameupandScottpitchedtohimashehadtotheothers——highfastballsovertheinsidecorneroftheplate。ReddyRay’spositionwassomefiftyyardsbehinddeepshort，andalittletowardcenterfield。
Hestoodsideways，facingtwo—thirdsofthatvacantoutfield。InspiteofScott’sskill，Hanleyswungtheballfarroundintorightfield，buthehitithigh，andalmostbeforeheactuallyhititthegreatsprinterwasspeedingacrossthegreen。
Thesuspencegrewalmostunbearableastheballsoaredinitsparabolicflightandthered—
hairedrunnerstreakeddarkacrossthegreen。
Theballseemednevertobecomingdown。AndwhenitbegantodescendandreachedapointperhapsfiftyfeetabovethegroundthereappearedmoredistancebetweenwhereitwouldalightandwhereReddiewasthananythinghumancouldcover。Itdroppedanddropped，andthendroppedintoReddieRay’soutstretchedhands。Hehadmadethecatchlookeasy。ButthefactthatWhitescoredfromsecondbaseontheplayshowedwhatthecatchreallywas。
Therewasnomovementorrestlessnessoftheaudiencesuchasusuallyindicatedthebeginningoftheexodus。ScottstruckBabcockout。Thegamestillhadfire。TheGraysneverletupamomentontheircoaching。AndthehoarsevoicesoftheStarsweregrimmerthanever。ReddieRaywastheonlyoneofthesevenwhokeptsilent。
Andhecrouchedlikeatiger。
TheteamschangedsideswiththeGraysthreerunsinthelead。Morrissey，fortheStars，openedwithacleandrivetoright。ThenHealyslashedagroundballtoHanleyandnearlyknockedhimdown。WhenoldBurns，byahardraptoshort，advancedtherunnersabaseandmadeadesperate，thoughunsuccessful，efforttoreachfirsttheProvidencecrowdawoketoastrangeandinspiringappreciation。Theybeganthatmostrarefeatureinbaseballaudiences——astrongandtrenchantcallforthevisitingteamtowin。
Theplayhadgonefastandfurious。Wehying，sweatyanddisheveled，workedviolently。AlltheGrayswereonuneasytiptoes。AndtheStarsweresevenIndiansonthewarpath。Halloranfouleddowntheright—fieldline;thenhefouledovertheleft—fieldfence。Wehyingtriedtomakehimtooanxious，butitwasinvain。Halloranwasimplacable。Withtwostrikesandthreeballshehitstraightdowntowhite，andwasout。Theballhadbeensosharpthatneitherrunneronbasehadachancetoadvance。
Twomenout，twoonbase，Starswantingthreerunstotie，Scott，aweakbatter，attheplate！
Thesituationwasdisheartening。YettheresatDelaney，shotthroughandthroughwithsomevitalcompellingforce。Hesawonlyvictory。AndwhentheveryfirstballpitchedtoScotthithimontheleg，givinghimhisbase，Delaneygottohisfeet，unsteadyandhoarse。
Basesfull，ReddieRayup，threerunstotie！
DelaneylookedatReddie。AndReddielookedatDelaney。Themanager’sfacewaspale，intent，withalittlesmile。Theplayerhadeyesoffire，alean，bulgingjawandthehandshereachedforhisbatclutchedliketalons。
``Reddie，Iknewitwaswaitin’foryou，’’saidDelaney，hisvoiceringing。``Breakupthegame！’’
Afterallthiswasonlyabaseballgame，andperhapsfromthefans’viewpointapoorgameatthat。Butthemomentwhenthatlithe，redhairedathletetoedtheplatewasabeautifulone。Thelongcrashfromthebleachers，thesteadycheerfromthegrandstand，provedthatitwasnotsomuchthegamethatmattered。
Wehyinghadshothisbolt;hewastired。Yethemadereadyforafinaleffort。ItseemedthatpassingReddieRayonballswouldhavebeenawiseplayatthatjuncture。Butnopitcher，probably，wouldhavedoneitwiththebasescrowdedandchances，ofcourse，againstthebatter。
Cleanandswift，Reddieleapedatthefirstpitchedball。Ping！Forasecondnoonesawthehit。Thenitgleamed，aterrificdrive，lowalongtheground，likeaboundingbullet，straightatBabcockinrightfield。Itstruckhishandsandglancedviciouslyawaytorolltowardthefence。
Thunderbrokeloosefromthestands。ReddieRaywasturningfirstbase。Beyondfirstbasehegotintohiswonderfulstride。Somerunnersrunwithaconsistentspeed，thebesttheycanmakeforagivendistance。Butthistrainedsprintergatheredspeedasheran。Hewasnoshort—steppingrunner。Hisstrideswerelong。Theygaveanimpressionofstrengthcombinedwithfleetness。
Hehadthespeedofaracehorse，butthetrimness，theraciness，thedelicatelegswerenotcharacteristicofhim。Likethewindheturnedsecond，sopowerfulthathisturnwasshort。Allatoncetherecameadifferenceinhisrunning。Itwasnolongerbeautiful。Thegracewasgone。Itwasnowfierce，violent。Hismomentumwasrunninghimoffhislegs。Hewhirledaroundthirdbaseandcamehurtlingdownthehomestretch。
Hisfacewasconvulsed，hiseyeswerewild。Hisarmsandlegsworkedinamarvelousmuscularvelocity。Heseemedademon——aflyingstreak。
HeovertookandrandownthelaboringScott，whohadalmostreachedtheplate。
Theparkseemedfullofshrill，piercingstrife。
Itswelled，reachedahighestpitch，sustainedthatforalongmoment，andthendeclined。
``MyGawd！’’exclaimedDelaney，ashefellback。``Wasn’tthatafinish？Didn’tItellyoutowatchthemredheads！’’
THERUBE
ItwasthemostcriticaltimeIhadyetexperiencedinmycareerasabaseballmanager。
AndtherewasmorethantheusualreasonwhyImustpulltheteamout。Achanceforabusinessdealdependeduponthegood—willofthestockholdersoftheWorcesterclub。OntheoutskirtsofthetownwasalittlecottagethatI
wantedtobuy，andthisdependeduponthebusinessdeal。MywholefuturehappinessdependeduponthelittlegirlIhopedtoinstallinthatcottage。
ComingtotheWorcesterEasternLeagueteam，Ihadfoundastrongaggregationandanenthusiasticfollowing。Ireallyhadateamwithpennantpossibilities。Providencewasastrongrival，butIbeatthemthreestraightintheopeningseries，setafastpace，andlikewisesetWorcesterbaseballmad。TheEasternLeagueclubswereprettyevenlymatched;stillIcontinuedtoholdtheleaduntilmisfortuneovertookme。
Greggsmashedanumpireandhadtobelaidoff。Mullaneygotspikedwhileslidingandwasoutofthegame。AshwellsprainedhisankleandHirschbrokeafinger。Radbourne，mygreatpitcher，hurthisarmonacolddayandhecouldnotgetuphisoldspeed。Stringer，whohadbattedthreehundredandseventy—oneandledtheleaguetheyearbefore，struckabadspellandcouldnothitabarndoorhandeduptohim。
Thencametheslump。Theteamsuddenlyletdown;wenttopieces;playedballthatwouldhavedisgracedanamateurnine。Itwasatryingtime。
Herewasagreatteam，strongeverywhere。A
littlehardluckhaddugupaslump——andnow！
Daybydaytheteamdroppedintherace。Whenwereachedtheseconddivisionthenewspapersflayedus。Worcesterwouldneverstandforaseconddivisionteam。Baseballadmirers，reporters，fans——especiallythefans——arefickle。Theadmirersquit，thereportersgrilledus，andthefans，thoughtheystucktothegameswiththatbarnacle—liketenacitypeculiartothem，madelifemiserableforallofus。Isawthepennantslowlyfading，andthesuccessfulseason，andthebusinessdeal，andthecottage，andMilly————
ButwhenIthoughtofherIjustcouldnotseefailure。Somethingmustbedone，butwhat？I
wasattheendofmywits。WhenJerseyCitybeatusthatSaturday，eleventotwo，shovingusdowntofifthplacewithonlyafewpercentagepointsabovetheFallRiverteam，Igrewdesperate，andlockingmyplayersinthedressingroomIwentafterthem。Theyhadlaindownonmeandneededajar。Itoldthemsostraightandflat，andbeingbitter，Ididnotpickandchoosemywords。
``Andfellows，’’Iconcluded，``you’vegottobrace。Alittlemoreofthisandwecan’tpullout。
Itellyouyou’reachampionshipteam。Wehadthatpennantcinched。Afewcutsandsprainsandhardluck——andyouallquit！Youlaydown！
I’vebeenpatient。I’vepluggedforyou。NeveramanhaveIfinedorthrowndown。ButnowI’mattheendofmystring。I’mouttofineyounow，andI’llreleasethefirstmanwhoshowstheleastyellow。Iplaynomoresubstitutes。
Crippledornot，youguyshavegottogetinthegame。’’
Iwaitedtocatchmybreathandexpectedsomesuchoutburstasmanagersusuallygetfromcriticizedplayers。Butnotaword！ThenIaddressedsomeofthempersonally。
``Gregg，yourlay—offendstoday。YouplayMonday。Mullaney，you’vedrawnyoursalaryfortwoweekswiththatspikedfoot。Ifyoucan’trunonit——well，allright，butIputituptoyourgoodfaith。I’veplayedthegameandIknowit’shardtorunonasorefoot。Butyoucandoit。
Ashwell，yourankleislame，Iknow——now，canyourun？’’
``SureIcan。I’mnotaquitter。I’mreadytogoin，’’repliedAshwell。
``Raddy，howaboutyou？’’Isaid，turningtomystartwirler。
``Connelly，I’veseenasfastateaminasbadarutandyetpullout，’’returnedRadbourne。
``We’reaboutdueforthebrace。Whenitcomes——lookout！Asforme，well，myarmisn’tright，butit’sactingthesewarmdaysinawaythattellsmeitwillbesoon。It’sbeenworkedtoohard。
Can’tyougetanotherpitcher？I’mnotknockingHerneorCairns。They’regoodfortheirturn，butweneedanewmantohelpout。Andhemustbeacrackerjackifwe’retogetbacktothelead。’’
``WhereonearthcanIfindsuchapitcher？’’I
shouted，almostdistracted。
``Well，that’suptoyou，’’repliedRadbourne。
Uptomeitcertainlywas，andIcudgeledmybrainsforinspiration。AfterIhadgivenupinhopelessnessitcameintheshapeofanoticeI
readinoneofthepapers。ItwasabriefmentionofanamateurWorcesterballteambeingshutoutinagamewithaRickettsvillenine。RickettsvilleplayedSundayball，whichgavemeanopportunitytolookthemover。
IttooksometrainridingandthenajourneybycoachtogettoRickettsville。Imingledwiththecrowdoftalkingrustics。Therewasonlyonelittle``bleachers’’andthiswasloadedtothedangerpointwiththefeminineadherentsoftheteams。Mostofthecrowdcenteredalongsideandbackofthecatcher’sbox。Iedgedinandgotapositionjustbehindthestonethatservedashomeplate。
Huntingupaplayerinthiswaywasnonewthingtome。IwastoowisetomakemyselfknownbeforeIhadsizedupthemeritsofmyman。So，beforetheplayerscameuponthefieldIamusedmyselfwatchingtherusticfansandlisteningtothem。ThenaroarannouncedtheappearanceoftheRickettsvilleteamandtheiropponents，whoworethenameofSpatsburgontheirCantonflannelshirts。TheuniformsofthesecountryamateurswouldhaveputaPhiladelphiaMummer’sparadetotheblush，atleastforbrightcolors。ButafteroneamusedglanceIgotdowntothesternbusinessoftheday，andthatwastodiscoverapitcher，andfailingthat，baseballtalentofanykind。
NevershallIforgetmyfirstglimpseoftheRickettsvilletwirler。Hewasfaroversixfeettallandasleanasafencerail。Hehadagreatshockoflighthair，asunburned，sharp—featuredface，wide，slopingshoulders，andarmsenormouslylong。Hewasaboutasgracefulandhadaboutasmuchofabaseballwalkasacrippledcow。
``He’sarube！’’Iejaculated，indisgustanddisappointment。
ButwhenIhadseenhimthrowoneballtohiscatcherIgrewaskeenasafoxonascent。Whatspeedhehad！Igotroundclosertohimandwatchedhimwithsharp，eagereyes。Hewasagiant。Tobesure，hewaslean，rawbonedasahorse，butpowerful。Whatwonmeatoncewashisnatural，easyswing。Hegottheballawaywithscarcelyanyeffort。Iwonderedwhathecoulddowhenhebroughtthemotionofhisbodyintoplay。
``Bub，whatmightbethepitcher’sname？’’I
askedofaboy。
``Huh，mister，hisnamemightbeDennis，butitain’t。Huh！’’repliedthiscountryyoungster。
Evidentlymyquestionhadthrownsomeimplicationuponthisparticularplayer。
``Ireckonyoubeastrangerintheseparts，’’
saidapleasantoldfellow。``Hisname’sHurtle——WhitakerHurtle。Whitfershort。Hehain’tlostagol—darnedgamethissummer。Nosir—ee！
Neverpitchedanybefore，nuther。’’
Hurtle！Whataremarkablyfittingname！
Rickettsvillechosethefieldandthegamebegan。
Hurtleswungwithhiseasymotion。Theballshotacrosslikeawhitebullet。Itwasastrike，andsowasthenext，andtheonesucceeding。Hecouldnotthrowanythingbutstrikes，anditseemedtheSpatsburgplayerscouldnotmakeevenafoul。
OutsideofHurtle’sworkthegamemeantlittletome。AndIwassofascinatedbywhatIsawinhimthatIcouldhardlycontainmyself。AfterthefirstfewinningsInolongertriedto。IyelledwiththeRickettsvillerooters。Themanwasawonder。Ablindbaseballmanagercouldhaveseenthat。Hehadastraightball，shoulderhigh，levelasastretchedstring，andfast。Hehadajumpball，whichheevidentlyworkedbyputtingonalittlemoresteam，anditwasthespeediestthingIeversawinthewayofashoot。Hehadawide—sweepingoutcurve，wideasthebladeofamowingscythe。Andhehadadrop——anunhittabledrop。Hedidnotuseitoften，foritmadehiscatcherdigtoohardintothedirt。ButwheneverhedidIglowedallover。Onceortwiceheusedanunderhandmotionandsentinaballthatfairlyswoopedup。Itcouldnothavebeenhitwithaboard。Andbestofall，dearesttothemanager’sheart，hehadcontrol。Everyballhethrewwentovertheplate。Hecouldnotmissit。Tohimthatplatewasasbigasahouse。
Whatafind！AlreadyIhadvisionsofthelong—
looked—forbraceofmyteam，andofthepennant，andthelittlecottage，andthehappylightofapairofblueeyes。Whathemeanttome，thatcountrypitcherHurtle！HeshutouttheSpatsburgteamwithoutarunorahitorevenascratch。
ThenIwentafterhim。Icollaredhimandhismanager，andthere，surroundedbythegapingplayers，IboughthimandsignedhimbeforeanyofthemknewexactlywhatIwasabout。Ididnothaggle。Iaskedthemanagerwhathewantedandproducedthecash;IaskedHurtlewhathewanted，doubledhisridiculouslymodestdemand，paidhiminadvance，andgothisnametothecontract。ThenIbreathedalong，deepbreath;thefirstoneforweeks。SomethingtoldmethatwithHurtle’ssignatureinmypocketIhadtheEasternLeaguepennant。ThenIinvitedallconcerneddowntotheRickettsvillehotel。
WemadeconnectionsattherailroadjunctionandreachedWorcesteratmidnightintimeforagoodsleep。Itookthesilentandbackwardpitchertomyhotel。Inthemorningwehadbreakfasttogether。IshowedhimaboutWorcesterandthencarriedhimofftotheballgrounds。
Ihadorderedmorningpractice，andasmorningpracticeisnotconducivetothecheerfulnessofballplayers，Iwantedtoreachthedressingroomalittlelate。Whenwearrived，alltheplayershaddressedandwereoutonthefield。IhadsomedifficultyinfittingHurtlewithauniform，andwhenIdidgethimdressedheresembledatwo—leggedgiraffedeckedoutinwhiteshirt，graytrousersandmaroonstockings。
Spears，myveteranfirstbasemanandcaptainoftheteam，wasthefirsttoseeus。
``Sufferin’umpires！’’yelledSpears。``Here，youMicks！LookatthisCon’sgotwithhim！’’
Whatayellburstfromthatsoreanddisgruntledbunchofballtossers！Myplayerswereagrouchysetinpracticeanyway，andtodaytheywereintheirmeanestmood。
``Hey，beanpole！’’
``Getontothestilts！’’
``Con，wheredidyoufindthat？’’
Icutshorttheirchaffingwithasharporderforbattingpractice。
``Regularline—up，nownomonkeybiz，’’Iwenton。``Taketwocracksandabunt。Here，Hurtle，’’
Isaid，drawinghimtowardthepitcher’sbox，``don’tpayanyattentiontotheirtalk。That’sonlythefunofballplayers。Goinnowandpracticealittle。Lamafewover。’’
Hurtle’sbigfreckledhandsclosednervouslyovertheball。Ithoughtitbestnottosaymoretohim，forhehadaratherwildlook。Irememberedmyownstagefrightuponmyfirstappearanceinfastcompany。BesidesIknewwhatmyamiableplayerswouldsaytohim。Ihadasecrethopeandbeliefthatpresentlytheywouldyellupontheothersideofthefence。
McCall，myspeedylittleleftfielder，ledoffatbat。Hewasfullofginger，chipperasasquirrel，sarcasticasonlyatriedballplayercanbe。
``Put’emover，Slats，put’emover，’’hecalled，viciouslyswinginghisash。
Hurtlestoodstiffandawkwardintheboxandseemedtoberollingsomethinginhismouth。
Thenhemovedhisarm。Weallsawtheballdartdownstraight——thatis，allofusexceptMcCall，becauseifhehadseenithemighthavejumpedoutoftheway。Crack！Theballhithimontheshin。
McCallshrieked。Weallgroaned。Thatcrackhurtallofus。Anybaseballplayerknowshowithurtstobehitontheshinbone。McCallwavedhisbatmadly。
``Rube！Rube！Rube！’’heyelled。
ThenandthereHurtlegotthenamethatwastoclingtohimallhisbaseballdays。
McCallwentbacktotheplate，redintheface，madasahornet，andhesidesteppedeverytimeRubepitchedaball。Henevereventickedoneandretiredindisgust，limpingandswearing。
Ashwellwasnext。Hedidnotshowmuchalacrity。
OnRube’sfirstpitchdownwentAshwellflatinthedust。Theballwhippedthehairofhishead。RubewaswildandIbegantogetworried。
Ashwellhitacoupleofmeaslypunks，butwhenheassayedabuntthegangyelledderisivelyathim。
``What’shegot？’’Theoldfamiliarcryofbatterswhenfacinganewpitcher！
Stringerwentup，boldandformidable。Thatwaswhatmadehimthegreathitterhewas。Helovedtobat;hewouldhavefacedanybody;hewouldhavefacedevenacannon。Newcurveswereafascinationtohim。Andspeedforhim，inhisownwords，was``applepie。’’Inthisinstance，surprisewasinstoreforStringer。Rubeshotupthestraightone，thenthewidecurve，thenthedrop。Stringermissedthemall，struckout，felldownignominiously。Itwasthefirsttimehehadfannedthatseasonandhelookeddazed。
Wehadtohaulhimaway。
Icalledoffthepractice，somewhatworriedaboutRube’sshowing，andundecidedwhetherornottotryhiminthegamethatday。SoIwenttoRadbourne，whohadquietlywatchedRubewhileonthefield。Raddywasanoldpitcherandhadseentheriseofahundredstars。ItoldhimaboutthegameatRickettsvilleandwhatIthoughtofRube，andfranklyaskedhisopinion。
``Con，you’vemadethefindofyourlife，’’saidRaddy，quietlyanddeliberately。
ThisfromRadbournewasnotonlycomforting;
itwasrelief，hope，assurance。IavoidedSpears，foritwouldhardlybepossibleforhimtoregardtheRubefavorably，andIkeptundercoveruntiltimetoshowupatthegrounds。
Buffalowasontheticketforthatafternoon，andtheBisonswereleadingtheraceandplayingintopnotchform。Iwentintothedressingroomwhiletheplayerswerechangingsuits，becausetherewasalittleunpleasantnessthatIwantedtospringonthembeforewegotonthefield。
``Boys，’’Isaid，curtly，``Hurtleworkstoday。
Cutloose，now，andbackhimup。’’
Ihadtogrababatandpoundonthewalltostoptheuproar。
``DidyoumuttshearwhatIsaid？Well，itgoes。
Notaword，now。I’mhandlingthisteam。We’reinbad，Iknow，butit’smyjudgmenttopitchHurtle，rubeornorube，andit’suptoyoutobackus。That’sthebaseballofit。’’
Grumblingandmuttering，theypassedoutofthedressingroom。Iknewballplayers。IfHurtleshouldhappentoshowgoodformtheywouldturninaflash。Rubetaggedreluctantlyintheirrear。Helookedlikeamaninatrance。Iwantedtospeakencouraginglytohim，butRaddytoldmetokeepquiet。
Itwasinspiringtoseemyteampracticethatafternoon。Therehadcomeasubtlechange。I
foresawoneofthosebaseballclimaxesthatcanbefeltandseen，butnotexplained。Whetheritwasahintofthehoped—forbrace，oronlyanotherflashofformbeforethefinallet—down，Ihadnomeanstotell。ButIwasonedge。
Carter，theumpire，calledoutthebatteries，andIsentmyteamintothefield。Whenthatlong，lanky，awkwardrusticstartedforthepitcher’sbox，Ithoughtthebleacherswouldmakehimdropinhistracks。Thefansweresoreonanyonethosedays，andanewpitcherwasboundtohearfromthem。
``Where！Oh，where！Oh，where！’’
``Connelly’sfoundanotherdeadone！’’
``Scarecrow！’’
``Lookathispants！’’
``Padhislegs！’’
Thentheinningbegan，andthingshappened。
Rubehadmarvelousspeed，buthecouldnotfindtheplate。Hethrewtheballthesecondhegotit;hehitmen，walkedmen，andfellalloverhimselftryingtofieldbunts。Thecrowdstormedandrailedandhissed。TheBisonsprancedroundthebasesandyelledlikeIndians。Finallytheyretiredwitheightruns。
Eightruns！Enoughtowintwogames！I
couldnothavetoldhowithappened。Iwassickandallbutcrushed。StillIhadablind，doggedfaithinthebigrustic。Ibelievedhehadnotgotstartedright。Itwasatryingsituation。IcalledSpearsandRaddytomysideandtalkedfast。
``It’salloffnow。Letthedingedrubetakehismedicine，’’growledSpears。
``Don’ttakehimout，’’saidRaddy。``He’snotshownatallwhat’sinhim。Theblamedhayseedisupintheair。He’scrazy。Hedoesn’tknowwhathe’sdoing。Itellyou，Con，hemaybescaredtodeath，buthe’sdeadinearnest。’’
SuddenlyIrecalledtheadviceofthepleasantoldfellowatRickettsville。
``Spears，you’rethecaptain，’’Isaid，sharply。
``Goaftertherube。Wakehimup。Tellhimhecan’tpitch。Callhim`Pogie！’That’sanamethatstirshimup。’’
``Well，I’llbedinged！Helooksit，’’repliedSpears。``Here，Rube，getoffthebench。Comehere。’’
Rubelurchedtowardus。Heseemedtobewalkinginhissleep。Hisbreastwaslaboringandhewasdrippingwithsweat。
``Whoevertoldyouthatyoucouldpitch？’’
askedSpearsgenially。Hewasmasteratbaseballridicule。Ihadneveryetseentheyoungsterwhocouldstandhisbadinage。Hesaidafewthings，thenwoundupwith：``Comenow，youcrossbetweenahayrackandawagontongue，getsoreanddosomething。Pitchifyoucan。Showus！Doyouhear，youtow—headedPogie！’’
Rubejumpedasifhehadbeenstruck。Hisfaceflamedredandhislittleeyesturnedblack。HeshovedhisbigfistunderCapt。Spears’nose。
``Mister，I’lllickyouferthet——afterthegame！
AndI’llshowyoudog—gonedwellhowIcanpitch。’’
``Good！’’exclaimedRaddy;andIechoedhisword。ThenIwenttothebenchandturnedmyattentiontothegame。SomeonetoldmethatMcCallhadmadeacoupleoffouls，andafterwaitingfortwostrikesandthreeballshadstruckout。Ashwellhadbeatoutabuntinhisoldswiftstyle，andStringerwaswalkinguptotheplateonthemoment。Itwasinteresting，eveninalosinggame，toseeStringergotobat。Weallwatchedhim，aswehadbeenwatchinghimforweeks，expectinghimtobreakhisslumpwithoneofthedrivesthathadmadehimfamous。Stringerstoodtotheleftsideoftheplate，andIcouldseethebulgeofhiscloselylockedjaw。Heswungonthefirstpitchedball。Withthesolidrapweallrosetowatchthathit。Theballlinedfirst，thensoaredanddidnotbegintodroptillitwasfarbeyondtheright—fieldfence。Foraninstantwewereallstill，sowerethebleachers。Stringerhadbrokenhisslumpwiththelongestdriveevermadeonthegrounds。ThecrowdcheeredashetrottedaroundthebasesbehindAshwell。Tworuns。