``Whit,it’samagnificentsight——thatbeautifulgreenfieldandthestands。Whatacrowdoffans!Why,Ineversawarealbaseballcrowdbefore。Therearetwentythousandhere。Andthere’sadifferenceinthefeeling。It’ssharper——newtome。It’sbigleaguebaseball。Notasoulinthatcrowdeverheardofyou,but,Ibelieve,tomorrowthewholebaseballworldwillhaveheardofyou。Mr。Morriseyknows。Isawitinhisface。CaptainSpearsknows。Connieknows。I
  know。’’
  Thensheliftedherfaceand,pullinghimdownwithinreach,shekissedhim。Nantookherhusband’sworkindeadearnest;shegloriedinit,andperhapsshehadasmuchtodowithmakinghimagreatpitcherasanyofus。
  TheRubeleftthebox,andIfoundaseatbetweenNanandMilly。Thefieldwasasplendidsight。Thosebleachersmademeglowwithmanagerialsatisfaction。Onthefieldbothteamsprancedanddancedandbouncedaroundinpractice。
  InspiteoftheabsolutelylastdegreeofegotismmanifestedbythePhiladelphiaplayers,Icouldnotbutadmiresuchasplendidbodyofmen。
  ``Sothesearethechampionsoflastseasonandofthisseason,too,’’commentedMilly。``Idon’twonder。Howswiftlyandcleanlytheyplay!
  Theyappearnottoexertthemselves,yettheyalwaysgettheballinperfecttime。Itallremindsmeof——oftherhythmofmusic。Andthatchampionbatterandrunner——thatLaneincenter——
  isn’thejustbeautiful?Hewalksandrunslikeablue—ribbonwinneratthehorseshow。Itellyouonething,Connie,theseQuakersareondressparade。’’
  ``Oh,theseQuakershatethemselves,Idon’tthink!’’retortedNan。Beingarabidgirl—fanitwas,ofcourse,impossibleforNantospeakbaseballconvictionsorgossipwithoutcharacteristicbaseballslang。``Stuckonthemselves!Ineversawthelikeinmylife。ThatfellowLaneissoswelledthathecan’tgetdownoffhistoes。Buthe’sawonder,Imustadmitthat。They’reabunchofstars。Easy,fast,trained——they’remachines,andI’llbetthey’reIndianstofight。Icanseeitstickingoutalloverthem。ThiswillcertainlybesomegamewithWhithandingupthatjumpballofhistothisgangofchamps。But,Connie,I’llgoyouWhitbeatsthem。’’
  Ilaughedandrefusedtogamble。
  Thegongrang;thecrowdseemedtohumandrustlesoftlytoquietattention;UmpireMcClungcalledthenamesofthebatteries;thenthefamiliar``Play!’’
  Therewastheusualapplausefromthegrandstandandwelcomecheersfromthebleachers。
  TheRubewasthelastplayertogoout。
  Morriseywasamanagerwhoalwaysplayedtothestands,andnodoubtheheldtheRubebackforeffect。Ifso,heoughttohavebeengratified。
  ThatmomentremindedmeofmyownteamandaudienceupontheoccasionoftheRube’sdebut。
  Itwasthesameonlyhereithappenedinthebigleague,beforeachampionshipteamandtwentythousandfans。
  Theroarthatwentupfromthebleachersmightwellhavescaredanunseasonedpitcheroutofhiswits。AndtheQuakerslinedupbeforetheirbenchandgazedatthisnewcomerwhohadthenervetowalkouttheretothebox。Cogswellstoodonthecoachingline,lookedattheRubeandthenheldupbotharmsandturnedtowardtheChicagobenchasiftoaskMorrisey:``Wheredidyougetthat?’’
  Nan,quickasaflashtocatchapoint,leanedoverthebox—railandlookedatthechampionswithfireinhereye。``Oh,youjustwait!wait!’’
  shebitoutbetweenherteeth。
  CertainitwasthattherewasnoonewhoknewtheRubeaswellasI;andIknewbeyondtheshadowofadoubtthatthehourbeforemewouldseebrighteningofagreatstarpitcheronthebigleaguehorizon。Itwasboundtobeafullhourforme。IhadmuchreasontobegratefultoWhitHurtle。Hehadpulledmyteamoutofarutandwonmethepennant,andthefivethousanddollarsIgotforhisreleaseboughtthelittlecottageonthehillforMillyandme。Thentherewasmyprideinhavingdevelopedhim。AndallthatI
  neededtocalmme,settlemedownintoassuranceandkeencriticismofthegame,wastoseetheRubepitchafewballswithhisoldincomparablespeedandcontrol。
  Berne,firstbatterfortheQuakers,walkeduptotheplate。HewasanotherBillyHamilton,builtlikeawedge。Isawhimlaughatthelongpitcher。
  Whitswayedback,coiledanduncoiled。Somethingthin,white,glancing,shotatBerne。Heducked,escapingtheballbyasmallermarginthanappearedgoodforhisconfidence。HespokelowtotheRube,andwhathesaidwasprobablynotflavoredwiththemilkoffriendlysweetness。
  ``Wild!What’dyoulookfor?’’calledoutCogswellscornfully。``He’sfromthewoods!’’
  TheRubeswunghisenormouslylongarm,tookanenormousstridetowardthirdbase,andpitchedagain。Itwasoneofhisqueerdeliveries。Theballcuttheplate。
  ``Ho!Ho!’’yelledtheQuakers。
  TheRube’snextonewashisoutcurve。ItbroketowardthecorneroftheplateandwouldhavebeenastrikehadnotBernepoppeditup。
  Callopy,thesecondhitter,facedtheRube,andhe,too,afterthemannerofballplayers,madesomeremarkmeantonlyfortheRube’sears。
  Callopywasafamouswaiter。Hedrovemorepitchersmadwithhisimplacablepatiencethananyhitterintheleague。ThefirstoneoftheRube’shewaitedoncrossedthein—corner;thesecondcrossedtheout—cornerandthethirdwasRube’swide,slow,tantalizing``stitch—ball,’’aswecallit,forthereasonthatitcamesoslowabattercouldcountthestitches。IbelieveCallopywaitedonthatcurve,decidedtohitit,changedhismindandwaitedsomemore,andfinallytheballmaddenedhimandhehadtopokeatit,theresultbeingaweakgrounder。
  Thenthegraceful,powerfulLane,championbatter,championbaserunner,steppedtotheplate。Howabaseballcrowd,anycrowd,anywhere,lovesthechampionbatter!TheovationLanereceivedmademewonder,withthisimpressivereceptioninahostilecamp,whatcouldbethemannerofitonhishomefield?Anyboyball—
  playerfromthelotsseeingLaneknockthedirtoutofhisspikesandstepintopositionwouldhaveknownhewasa400hitter。
  IwascurioustoseewhattheRubewouldpitchLane。ItmusthavebeenanewandsignificantmomentforHurtle。SomepitchersactuallywiltwhenfacingahitterofLane’sreputation。Buthe,onhisbaseballside,waspeculiarlyunemotional。
  Undoubtedlyhecouldgetfurious,butthatonlyincreasedhiseffectiveness。TomyamazementtheRubepitchedLanealittleeasyball,notinanysenselikehisfloaterorstitch—ball,butjustalittletossthatanyyoungstermighthavetossed。
  Ofallpossibleballs,Lanewasnotexpectingsuchasthat,andheletitgo。Ifthenerveofitamazedme,whatdiditnotdotoLane?Isawhisfacegofieryred。Thegrandstandmurmured;letoutoneshortyelpofpleasure;theQuakerplayerschaffedLane。
  Thepitchwasastrike。Iwasgrippingmychairnow,andforthenextpitchIprophesiedtheRube’swonderfuljumpball,whichhehadnotyetused。Heswunglong,andattheendofhisswingseemedtojerktensely。Iscarcelysawtheball。
  Ithadmarvelousspeed。Lanedidnotoffertohitit,anditwasastrike。HelookedattheRube,thenatCogswell。Thatveteranappearedamused。
  Thebleachers,happyandsurprisedtobeabletoyellatLane,yelledheartily。
  AgainItookituponmyselftointerprettheRube’spitchingmind。Hehadanotherballthathehadnotused,adrop,anunhittabledrop。I
  thoughthewouldusethatnext。Hedid,andthoughLanereacheditwiththebat,thehitwasafeebleone。Hehadbeenfooledandthesidewasout。
  Poole,thebestoftheQuaker’spitchingstaff,walkedouttotheslab。Hewasaleft—hander,andChicago,havingsomanyplayerswhobattedleft—handed,alwaysfoundasouthpawahardnuttocrack。Cogswell,fieldmanagerandcaptainoftheQuakers,kickedupthedustaroundfirstbaseandyelledtohismen:``Gitinthegame!’’
  StaatshitPoole’sspeedballintodeepshortandwasout;MitchellflewouttoBerne;Randgroundedtosecond。
  Whiletheteamsagainchangedsidesthefanscheered,andthenindulgedinthefirststretchofthegame。Icalculatedthattheywouldbestretchingtheirneckspresently,tryingtokeeptrackoftheRube’swork。Nanleanedontherailingabsorbedinherownhopeandfaith。Millychatteredaboutthisandthat,peopleintheboxes,andthechancesofthegame。
  Myowninterest,whileitdidnotwhollyprecludethefortunesoftheChicagoplayersatthebat,wasmostlyconcernedwiththeRube’sfortunesinthefield。
  IntheRube’shalfinningheretiredBannisterandBlandyonfeebleinfieldgrounders,andworkedCogswellintohittingawidecurvehighintheair。
  PoolemeanttowinfortheQuakersifhisgoodarmandcunningdidnotfailhim,andhispitchingwasmasterly。McCloskeyfanned,Hutchinsonfouledout,Brewstergotashortsafeflyjustoutofreach,andHoffnerhittosecond,forcingBrewster。
  WithDuganupfortheQuakersinthethirdinning,CogswellandBannister,fromthecoachinglines,begantotalktotheRube。Myears,keenfromlongpractice,caughtsomeoftheremarksinspiteofthenoisybleachers。
  ``Say,busher,you’velastedlonger’nweexpected,butyoudon’tknowit!’’
  ``Goldarnyoucityballtossers!Nowyoujestletmealone!’’
  ``We’recomin’throughtherye!’’
  ``Mytop—heavyrusticfriend,you’llneedanairshippresently,whenyougoup!’’
  Allthebadinagewasgood—natured,whichwassureproofthattheQuakershadnotarrivedatanythinglikerealappreciationoftheRube。Theywereaccustomedtoobservethetryingoutofmanyyoungsters,ofwhomninety—nineoutofahundredfailedtomakegood。
  Duganchoppedatthreestrikesandslammedhisbatdown。HuckerhitaslowflytoHoffer。
  Threemenoutonfivepitchedballs!Cogswell,oldwarhorsethathewas,stoodafullmomentandwatchedtheRubeashewalkedintothebench。AnideahadpenetratedCogswell’sbrain,andIwouldhavegivensomethingtoknowwhatitwas。Cogswellwasagreatbaseballgeneral,andthoughhehadapreferenceformaturedball—
  playershecould,whenpressed,seethequalityinayoungster。Hepickeduphismittandtookhispositionatfirstwithagruffwordtohisplayers。
  RandforChicagoopenedwithahit,andthebleachers,readytostrikefire,begantocheerandstamp。WhenMcCloskey,inanattempttosacrifice,beatouthisbuntthecrowdroared。Rand,eingslowonhisfeet,hadnotattemptedtomakethirdontheplay。Hutchinsonsacrificed,neatlyadvancingtherunners。Thenthebleachersplayedthelongrollingdrumofclatteringfeetwithshrillwhistlingaccompaniment。BrewsterbattedawickedgroundballtoBlandy。Hedoveintothedust,cameupwiththeball,andfeintingtothrowhomehewheeledandshottheballtoCogswell,whointurnshotittotheplatetoheadRand。Runnerandballgotthereapparentlytogether,butUmpireMcClung’sdecisionwentagainstRand。Itwasfine,fastwork,buthowthebleachersstormedatMcClung!
  ``Rob—b—ber!’’
  AgaintheheadoftheQuakers’formidablelistwasup。IknewfromthewaythatCogswellpacedthecoachingboxthatthewordhadgoneouttolooktheRubeoverseriously。Therewerepossibilitieseveninrubes。
  Bernecarefullysteppedintothebatter’sbox,asifhewantedtobecertaintothebreadthofahairhowclosehewastotheplate。HewastherethistimetowatchtheRubepitch,toworkhimout,toseewhatwaswhat。Hecrouchedlow,anditwouldhavebeenextremelyhardtoguesswhathewasupto。Hisgreatplay,however,washisabilitytodumptheballandbeatoutthethrowtofirst。Itdevelopedpresently,thatthiswasnowhisintentionandthattheRubeknewitandpitchedhimtheoneballwhichisalmostimpossibletobunt——ahighincurve,overtheinsidecorner。
  TherewasnomistakingtheRube’smagnificentcontrol。Trueasaplumblineheshotuptheball——once,twice,andBernefouledboth——twostrikes。Grudginglyhewaitedonthenext,butit,too,wasoverthecorner,andBernewentoutonstrikes。Thegreatcrowddidnot,ofcourse,graspthefinesseoftheplay,butBernehadstruckout——thatwasenoughforthem。
  Callopy,thefamousspiker,whohadputmanyaplayeroutofthegameforweeksatatime,strodeintothebatter’splace,andhe,too,wasnotatthemomentmakinganyfunnyremarks。TheRubedeliveredaballthatallbuthitCallopyfaironthehead。Itwasthesecondnarrowescapeforhim,andtheroarheletoutshowedhowheresentedbeingthreatenedwithalittleofhisownmedicine。Asmighthavebeenexpected,andverylikelyastheRubeintended,Callopyhitthenextball,asweepingcurve,upovertheinfield。
  Iwastryingtoseealltheintricatedetailsofthemotiveandactiononthefield,anditwasnoteasytowatchseveralplayersatonce。ButwhileBerneandCallopywerehavingtheirtroubleswiththeRube,IkeptthetailofmyeyeonCogswell。Hewasprowlingupanddownthethird—
  baseline。
  Hewasmissingnosigns,noindications,noprobabilities,nopossibilities。Buthewasindoubt。LikeahawkhewaswatchingtheRube,and,aswell,thecraftybatters。TheinningmightnottellthetruthastotheRube’sluck,thoughitwouldtesthiscontrol。TheRube’sspeedandcurves,withoutanyheadwork,wouldhavemadehimapitcherofnomeanability,butwasthisremarkableplacingofballsjustaccident?Thatwasthequestion。
  WhenBernewalkedtothebenchIdistinctlyheardhimsay:``Comeoutofit,youdubs。Isayyoucan’tworkhimorwaithim。He’speggin’
  ’emoutofagun!’’
  SeveraloftheQuakerswerestandingoutfromthebench,allintentontheRube。Hehadstirredthemup。Firstitwashumor;thenridicule,curiosity,suspicion,doubt。AndIknewitwouldgrowtowonderandcertainty,thenfierceattackfrombothtonguesandbats,andlastly——forballplayersaregenerous——unstintedadmiration。
  Somehow,notonlythefirstclimaxesofagamebutthedecisions,theconvictions,thereputationsofpitchersandfieldersevolvearoundthegreathitter。Plainitwasthatthevastthrongofspectators,eagertobelieveinanewfind,wildtowelcomeanewstar,yetloathtotrusttotheirownimpulsivejudgments,heldthemselvesincheckuntiloncemorethegreatLanehadfacedtheRube。
  Thefieldgrewtolerablyquietjustthen。TheRubedidnotexerthimself。Thecriticalstagehadnoconcernforhim。HepitchedLaneahighcurve,overtheplate,butinclose,aballmeanttobehitandaballhardtohitsafely。Laneknewthataswellasanyhitterintheworld,sohelettwoofthecurvesgoby——twostrikes。AgaintheRuberelentlesslygavehimthesameball;andLane,hittingviciously,spitefully,becausehedidnotwanttohitthatkindofaball,sentupaflythatRandeasilycaptured。
  ``Oh,Idon’tknow!Prettyfair,Iguess!’’
  yelledatenor—voicedfan;andhestruckthekey—
  note。AndthebleachersrosetotheirfeetandgavetheRubetherousingcheerofthebrotherhoodoffans。
  Hofferwalkedtofirstonabaseonballs。
  Sweeneyadvancedhim。TheRubesentupagiantflytoCallopy。ThenStaatshitsafely,scoringthefirstrunofthegame。Hoffercrossedtheplateamidvociferousapplause。MitchellendedtheinningwithaflytoBlandy。
  WhatachangehadcomeoverthespiritofthatQuakeraggregation!Itwassomethingtomakeamanthrillwithadmirationand,ifhehappenedtofavorChicago,tofireallhisfightingblood。
  TheplayerspouredupontheRubeacontinuousstreamofscathingabuse。Theywouldhavemadearagingdevilofamild—manneredclergyman。
  Someofthemwereskilledincausticwit,mostofthemwerepossessedofforkedtongues;andCogswell,heofathousandbaseballbattles,hadageniusforinflaminganyonehetormented。Thiswasmostlybeyondthekenoftheaudience,andbehindthebackoftheumpire,butitwasperfectlyplaintome。TheQuakersweretryingtorattletheRube,atrickofthegameasfairforonesideasfortheother。Isattheretightinmyseat,grimlygloryinginthewaytheRuberefusedtobedisturbed。Butthelioninhimwasrampant。
  Fortunately,itwashisstrangegifttopitchbettertheangrierhegot;andthemoretheQuakersflayedhim,themorehelethimselfouttotheircrushinghumiliation。
  TheinningsswiftlypassedtotheeighthwithChicagofailingtoscoreagain,withPhiladelphiafailingtoscoreatall。Onescratchhitandasingle,giftstotheweakendofthebattinglist,wereallthelankpitcherallowedthem。LongsincethebleachershadcrownedtheRube。Hewastheirsandtheywerehis;andtheirvoiceshadthepeculiarstrangledhoarsenessduetoover—exertion。
  Thegrandstand,slowertounderstandandapprove,arrivedlater;butitgotthereabouttheseventh,andladies’glovesandmen’shatsweresacrificed。
  IntheeighththeQuakersreluctantlyyieldedtheirmeedofpraise,showingitbyacessationoftheirsavagewordyattacksontheRube。Itwasakindofsullenrespect,wrungfromthebosomofgreatfoes。
  Thentheninthinningwasathand。AsthesideschangedIrememberedtolookatthefemininegroupinourbox。Millywasinamostbeautifulglowofhappinessandexcitement。Nansatrigid,leaningovertherail,herfacewhiteanddrawn,andshekeptsayinginalowvoice:
  ``Willitneverend?Willitneverend?’’Mrs。
  Nelsonstaredwearily。
  ItwastheQuakers’laststand。Theyfaceditasateamthathadwonmanyagameintheninthwithtwomenout。DugancoulddonothingwiththeRube’sunhittabledrop,foradropcurvewashisweakness,andhestruckout。HuckerhittoHoffer,whofumbled,makingthefirsterrorofthegame。Pooledumpedtheball,asevidentlytheRubedesired,forhehandedupastraightone,butthebuntrolledteasinglyandtheRube,beingbigandtall,failedtofielditintime。
  Suddenlythewholefieldgrewquiet。ForthefirsttimeCogswell’scoachingwasclearlyheard。
  ``Oneout!Takealead!Takealead!Gothroughthistime。Gothrough!’’
  Coulditbepossible,Iwondered,thataftersuchawonderfulexhibitionofpitchingtheRubewouldloseoutintheninth?
  ThereweretwoQuakersonbase,oneout,andtwoofthebesthittersintheleagueondeck,withachanceofLanegettingup。
  ``Oh!Oh!Oh!’’moanedNan。
  Iputmyhandonhers。``Don’tquit,Nan。
  You’llneverforgiveyourselfifyouquit。Takeitfromme,Whitwillpulloutofthishole!’’
  WhataholethatwasfortheRubeonthedayofhisbreakintofastcompany!Imeasureditbyhisremarkabledeliberation。HetookalongtimetogetreadytopitchtoBerne,andwhenheletdriveitwasasifhehadbeentriflingallbeforeinthatgame。IcouldthinkofnowaytofigureitexceptthatwhentheballlefthimtherewasscarcelyanyappreciableintervaloftimebeforeitcrackedinSweeney’smitt。ItwastheRube’sdrop,whichIbelievedunhittable。Berneletitgoby,shakinghisheadasMcClungcalleditastrike。Anotherfollowed,whichBernechoppedatvainly。Thenwiththesameupheavalofhisgiantframe,thesameflingingoflongarmsandlungingforward,theRubedeliveredathirddrop。
  AndBernefailedtohitit。
  Thevoicelessbleachersstampedonthebenchesandthegrandstandlikewisethundered。
  CallopyshowedhiscraftbysteppingbackandliningRube’shighpitchtoleft。Hofferleapedacrossandplungeddown,gettinghisglovedhandinfrontoftheball。Thehitwassafe,butHoffer’svalianteffortsavedatiescore。
  Laneup!Threemenonbases!Twoout!
  NotimprobablythereweremanythousandspectatorsofthatthrillingmomentwhopitiedtheRubeforthefatewhichplacedLaneatthebatthen。ButIwasnotoneofthem。Neverthelessmythroatwasclogged,mymouthdry,andmyearsfullofbells。IcouldhavedonesomethingterribletoHurtleforhisdeliberation,yetIknewhewasprovinghimselfwhatIhadalwaystriedtotrainhimtobe。
  Thenheswung,steppedout,andthrewhisbodywiththeball。Thiswashisrarelyusedpitch,hislastresort,hisfastriseballthatjumpedupalittleattheplate。Lanestruckunderit。HowsignificantontheinstanttoseeoldCogswell’shandsgoup!AgaintheRubepitched,andthistimeLanewatchedtheballgoby。Twostrikes!
  Thatwholeaudienceleapedtoitsfeet,whispering,yelling,screaming,roaring,bawling。
  TheRubereceivedtheballfromSweeneyandquickaslightninghespeditplateward。ThegreatLanestruckout!Thegamewasover——Chicago,1;Philadelphia,0。
  InthatwhirlingmomentwhenthecrowdwentmadandMillywashuggingme,andNanpoundingholesinmyhat,Ihadaqueersortofblankness,asectionoftimewhenmysensationsweredeadlocked。
  ``Oh!Connie,look!’’criedNan。IsawLaneandCogswellwarmlyshakinghandswiththeRube。Thenthehungryclamoringfanstumbleduponthefieldandswarmedabouttheplayers。
  WereuponNankissedmeandMilly,andthenkissedMrs。Nelson。InthatradiantmomentNanwasallsweetness。
  ``ItistheRube’sbreakintofastcompany,’’shesaid。
  THEKNOCKER
  ``Yes,Carroll,Igotmynotice。Maybeit’snosurprisetoyou。Andthere’sonemorethingIwanttosay。You’re`it’onthisteam。You’rethetopnotchcatcherintheWesternLeagueandoneofthebestballplayersinthegame——butyou’reaknocker!’’
  MadgeEllstonheardyoungSheldonspeak。
  Shesawtheflashinhisgrayeyesandtheheatofhisbronzedfaceashelookedintentlyatthebigcatcher。
  ``Fadeaway,sonny。Backtothebush—leagueforyours!’’repliedCarroll,derisively。``You’renotfastenoughforKansasCity。Youlookprettygoodinauniformandyou’reswiftonyourfeet,butyoucan’thit。You’vegotaglassarmandyourunbaseslikeanostrichtryingtoside。Thatnoticewascomingtoyou。Golearnthegame!’’
  ThenacrowdofplayerstroopednoisilyoutofthehotellobbyandsweptSheldonandCarrolldowntheporchstepstowardthewaitingomnibus。
  Madge’suncleownedtheKansasCityclub。
  Shehadlivedmostofhernineteenyearsinabaseballatmosphere,butaccustomedasshewastobaseballtalkandthepeculiarbanteringsandbickeringsoftheplayers,thereweretimeswhenitseemedallGreek。Ifaplayergothis``notice’’
  itmeanthewouldbereleasedintendays。A
  ``knocker’’wasaballplayerwhospokeillofhisfellowplayers。Thisscrapofconversation,however,hadanunusualinterestbecauseCarrollhadpaidcourttoherforayear,andSheldon,comingtotheteamthatspring,hadfallendesperatelyinlovewithher。ShelikedSheldonprettywell,butCarrollfascinatedher。Shebegantowonderiftherewerebadfeelingsbetweentherivals——tocomparethem——togetawayfromherselfandjudgethemimpersonally。
  WhenPatDonahue,theveteranmanageroftheteamcameout,Madgegreetedhimwithasmile。ShehadalwaysgottenonfamouslywithPat,notwithstandingherimperiousdesiretohandlethemanagerialreinsherselfuponoccasions。
  Patbeamedalloverhisroundruddyface。
  ``MissMadge,youweren’ttotheparkyesterdayan’welostwithoutourprettymascot。Weshureneededyou。Denver’splayin’atafastclip。’’
  ``I’mcomingouttoday,’’repliedMissEllston,thoughtfully。``Pat,what’saknocker?’’
  ``Now,MissMadge,areyouaskin’methatafterI’vebeencoachin’youinbaseballforyears?’’questionedPat,indistress。
  ``Iknowwhataknockeris,aseverybodyelsedoes。ButIwanttoknowtherealmeaning,theinside—ballofit,touseyourfavoritesaying。’’
  StudyinghergravefacewithshrewdeyesDonahueslowlylosthissmile。
  ``Theinside—ballofit,eh?Come,let’ssitoverhereabit——thesun’sshurewarmtoday……
  MissMadge,aknockeristhestrangestmanknowninthegame,thehardesttodealwithan’
  whateverybaseballmanagerhatesmost。’’
  Donahuetoldherthathebelievedtheterm``knocker’’cameoriginallyfrombaseball;thatingeneralittypifiedtheplayerwhostrengthenedhisownstandingbybelittlingtheabilityofhisteam—mates,andbyenlarginguponhisownsuperiorqualities。Butthereweremanyphasesofthispeculiartype。Someplayerswerenaturalbornknockers;othersacquiredthenameintheirlateryearsinthegamewhenyoungermenthreatenedtowintheirplaces。Someofthebestplayerseverproducedbybaseballhadthehabitinitsmostviolentform。Therewereplayersofridiculouslypoorabilitywhoheldtheirjobsonthestrengthofthisonetrait。Itwasamysteryhowtheymisledmagnatesandmanagersalike;howformonthstheyheldtheirplaces,weakeningateam,oftenkeepingagoodteamdownintherace;allfromsheerboldsuggestionoftheirownworthandotherplayers’worthlessness。
  Strangestofallwastheknockers’powertodisorganize;toengenderabadspiritbetweenmanagementandteamandamongtheplayers。
  Theteamwhichwaswithoutoneoftheparasitesofthegamegenerallystoodwellupintheraceforthepennant,thoughtherehadbeenchampionshipteamsnotedforgreatknockersaswellasgreatplayers。
  ``It’sshurestrange,MissMadge,’’saidPatinconclusion,shakinghisgrayhead。``I’veplayedhundredsofknockers,an’releasedthem,too。
  Knockersalwaysgetitintheend,buttheygoonfoolin’meandworkin’mejustthesameasifI
  wasayoungsterwithmyfirstteam。They’repartan’parcelofthegame。’’
  ``Doyoulikethesemenoffthefield——outsideofbaseball,Imean?’’
  ``No,Ishuredon’t,an’Ineverseenoneyetthatwasn’tthesameoffthefieldashewason。’’
  ``Thankyou,Pat。IthinkIunderstandnow。
  And——oh,yes,there’sanotherthingIwanttoaskyou。What’sthematterwithBillieSheldon?
  UncleGeorgesaidhewasfallingoffinhisgame。
  ThenI’vereadthepapers。Billiestartedoutwellinthespring。’’
  ``Didn’the?Iwassurethinkin’IhadafindinBillie。Well,he’slosthisnerve。He’sinabadslump。It’sworriedmefordays。I’mgoin’
  toreleaseBillie。Theteamneedsashake—up。
  That’swhereBilliegetstheworstofit,forhe’sreallythemakin’ofastar;buthe’sslumped,an’
  nowknockin’hasmadehimletdown。There,MissMadge,that’sanexampleofwhatI’vejustbeentellin’you。An’youcanseethatamanagerhashistroubles。Thesehulkin’athletesarealotofspoiledbabiesan’Ioftengetsickofmyjob。’’
  ThatafternoonMissEllstonwasinabrownstudyallthewayouttothebaseballpark。Shearrivedratherearlierthanusualtofindthegrand—
  standempty。TheDenverteamhadjustcomeuponthefield,andtheKansasCityplayerswerepractisingbattingattheleftofthediamond。
  Madgewalkeddowntheaisleofthegrandstandandoutalongthereporters’boxes。SheaskedoneoftheyoungstersonthefieldtotellMr。
  Sheldonthatshewouldliketospeakwithhimamoment。
  Billieeagerlyhurriedfromtheplayers’benchwithalookofsurpriseandexpectancyonhissun—
  tannedface。Madgeexperiencedforthefirsttimeasuddensenseofshynessathiscoming。Hislitheformandhisnimblestepsomehowgaveherapleasurethatseemedoldyetwasnew。
  Whenhenearedher,and,liftinghiscap,spokehername,theshadeofgloominhiseyesandlinesoftroubleonhisfacedispelledherconfusion。
  ``Billie,Pattellsmehe’sgivenyoutendays’
  notice,’’shesaid。
  ``It’strue。’’
  ``What’swrongwithyou,Billie?’’
  ``Oh,I’vestruckabadstreak——can’thitorthrow。’’
  ``Areyouaquitter?’’
  ``No,I’mnot,’’heansweredquickly,flushingadarkred。
  ``Youstartedoffthisspringwitharush。Youplayedbrilliantlyandforawhileledtheteaminbatting。UncleGeorgethoughtsowellofyou。
  Thencamethisspellofbadform。But,Billie,it’sonlyaslump;youcanbrace。’’
  ``Idon’tknow,’’hereplied,despondently。
  ``AwhilebackIgotmymindoffthegame。Then——peoplewhodon’tlikemehavetakenadvantageofmyslumpto————’’
  ``Toknock,’’interruptedMissEllston。
  ``I’mnotsayingthat,’’hesaid,lookingawayfromher。
  ``ButI’msayingit。Seehere,BillieSheldon,myuncleownsthisteamandPatDonahueismanager。
  Ithinktheybothlikemealittle。NowI
  don’twanttoseeyouloseyourplace。Perhaps————’’
  ``Madge,that’sfineofyou——butIthink——Iguessit’dbebestformetoleaveKansasCity。’’
  ``Why?’’
  ``Youknow,’’hesaidhuskily。``I’velostmyhead——I’minlove——Ican’tthinkofbaseball——
  I’mcrazyaboutyou。’’
  MissEllston’ssweetfacegrewrosy,cleartothetipsofherears。
  ``BillieSheldon,’’shereplied,spiritedly。
  ``You’retalkingnonsense。Evenifyouwerewerethatway,it’dbenoreasontoplaypoorball。Don’tthrowthegame,asPatwouldsay。
  Makeabrace!Getuponyourtoes!Tearthings!Riptheboardsoffthefence!Don’tquit!’’
  Sheexhaustedhervocabularyofbaseballlanguageifnotherenthusiasm,andpausedinblushingconfusion。
  ``Madge!’’
  ``Willyoubraceup?’’
  ``WillI——willI!’’heexclaimed,breathlessly。
  Madgemurmuredahurriedgood—byeand,turningaway,wentupthestairs。Heruncle’sprivateboxwasuponthetopofthegrandstandandshereacheditinasomewhatbewilderedstateofmind。ShehadaconfusedsenseofhavingappearedtoencourageBillie,anddidnotknowwhethershefelthappyorguilty。Theflameinhiseyeshadwarmedallherblood。Then,assheglancedovertherailingtoseethepowerfulBurnsCarroll,thereroseinherbreastapanicatstrangevariancewithherotherfeelings。
  ManytimeshadMadgeEllstonviewedthefieldandstandsandtheoutlyingcountryfromthishighvantagepoint;butneverwiththesameminglingemotions,norhadthesunshineeverbeensogolden,thewoodsandmeadowssogreen,thediamondsosmoothandvelvety,thewholescenesogailybright。
  Denverhadalwaysbeenagooddrawingcard,andhavingwonthefirstgameofthepresentseries,badefairtodrawarecordattendance。
  Thelonglinesofbleachers,alreadypackedwiththefamiliarmottledcrowd,sentforthamerry,rattlinghum。Soonasteadystreamofwell—
  dressedmenandwomenpouredinthegatesandupthegrand—standstairs。Thesoftmurmurofmanyvoicesinlightconversationandlaughterfilledtheair。Thepeanutvendersandscore—cardsellerskeptuptheirinsistentshrillcries。Thebaseballparkwasalivenowandrestless;theatmosphereseemedchargedwithfreedomandpleasure。Theplayersrompedlikeskittishcolts,thefansshriekedtheirwitticisms——allsoundandmovementssuggestedplay。
  MadgeEllstonwassomehowrelievedtoseeherunclesittinginoneofthelowerboxes。Duringthisgameshewantedtobealone,andshebelievedshewouldbe,forthePresidentoftheLeagueanddirectorsoftheKansasCityteamwerewithheruncle。WhenthebellrangtocalltheDenverteaminfrompracticethestandscouldholdnomore,andtheroped—offsidelineswerefillingupwithnoisymenandboys。FromherseatMadgecouldseerightdownupontheplayers’bench,andwhenshecaughtbothSheldonandCarrollgazingupwardshedrewbackwithsharplycontrastedthrills。
  Thenthebellrangagain,thebleachersrolledouttheirwelcomingacclaim,andplaywascalledwithKansasCityatthebat。
  RightoffthereelHunthitashortflysafelyoversecond。Thetenthousandspectatorsburstintoaroar。Agoodstartliberatedapplauseandmarkedthefeelingfortheday。
  MadgewassurprisedandgladtoseeBillieSheldonstartnextfortheplate。Allseason,untillately,hehadbeenthesecondbatter。Duringhisslumphehadbeenrelegatedtothelastplaceonthebattinglist。PerhapshehadaskedPattotryhimoncemoreatthetop。Thebleachersvoicedtheirunstintedappreciationofthisreturn,showingthatBilliestillhadastrongholdontheirhearts。
  AsforMadge,herbreastheavedandshehaddifficultyinbreathing。Thiswasgoingtobeahardgameforher。TheintensityofherdesiretoseeBilliebraceuptohisoldformamazedher。
  AndCarroll’srudewordsbeatthickinherears。
  NeverbeforehadBillieappearedsoinstinctwithlife,sointentandstrungaswhenhefacedKeene,theDenverpitcher。Thatworthytiedhimselfupinaknot,andthen,unlimberingalongarm,deliveredthebrandnewball。
  Billieseemedtoleapforwardandthrowhisbatatit。Therewasasharpringingcrack——andtheballwaslikeawhitestringmarvelouslystretchingoutovertheplayers,overthegreenfieldbeyond,andthen,sailing,soaring,overtheright—
  fieldfence。Foramomentthestands,eventhebleachers,werestonequiet。Noplayerhadeverhitaballoverthatfence。Ithadbeendeemedimpossible,aswasattestedtobythemanypainted``ads’’offeringprizesforsuchafeat。Suddenlythefarendofthebleachersexplodedandtheswellingroarrolleduptoengulfthegrandstandinthunder。Billieranroundthebasestoapplauseneverbeforeventedonthatfield。Buthegavenosignthatitaffectedhim;hedidnotevendoffhiscap。White—facedandstern,hehurriedtothebench,wherePatfellalloverhimandmanyoftheplayersgraspedhishands。
  UpinherboxMadgewascrushingherscore—
  cardandwhispering:``Oh!Billie,Icouldhugyouforthat!’’
  Tworunsontwopitchedballs!Thatwasanopeningtostiranexactingaudiencetothehighestpitchofenthusiasm。TheDenvermanagerperemptorilycalledKeeneoffthediamondandsentinSteele,asouth—paw,whohadalwaysbotheredPat’sleft—handedhitters。Thatmoveshowedhisastutejudgment,forSteelestruckoutMcReadyandretiredCurtisandMahewoneasychances。
  ItwasDalgren’sturntopitchandthoughhehadshownpromiseinseveralgameshehadnotyetbeentriedoutonateamofDenver’sstrength。
  Thebleachersgavehimagoodcheeringashewalkedintothebox,butforallthattheywhistledtheirwonderatPat’sassuranceinputtinghimagainsttheCowboysinanimportantgame。
  Theladwasvisiblynervousandthehard—hittingandloud—coachingDenverplayerswentafterhimasiftheymeanttodrivehimoutofthegame。Cranestungonetoleftcenterforabase,Moodywasoutonalinertoshort,almostdoublingupCrane;thefleet—footedBluettbuntedandbeatthethrowtofirst;Langlydrovetoleftforwhatseemedathree—bagger,butCurtis,afterahardrun,caughttheballalmostofftheleft—fieldbleachers。CraneandBluettadvancedabaseonthethrow—in。ThenKanebattedupahighfoul—fly。
  BurnsCarroll,theKansasCitycatcher,hadthereputationofbeingafiendforchasingfoulflies,andhedashedatthisonewithaspeedthatthreatenedahardfallovertheplayers’benchoracollisionwiththefence。Carrollcaughttheballandcrashedagainstthegrandstand,butleapedbackwithanagilitythatshowedthatiftherewasanyharmdoneithadnotbeentohim。
  Thusthesharpinningendedwithamagnificentplay。Itelectrifiedthespectatorsintoafierceenergyofapplause。Withoneaccord,bybaseballinstinct,thestandsandbleachersandroped—
  in—sidelinesrealizeditwastobeagameofgamesandtheyansweredtothestimuluswithasavageenthusiasmthatinspiredballplayerstogreatplays。
  Inthefirsthalfofthesecondinning,Steele’swilltodoandhisarmtoexecutewereverylikehisname。KansasCitycouldnotscore。IntheirhalftheDenverteammadeonerunbycleanhitting。
  Thenthecloselyfoughtadvantagesee—sawedfromoneteamtotheother。Itwasnotapitchers’
  battle,thoughbothmenworkedtothelimitofskillandendurance。Theywerehithard。Dazzlingplayskeptthescoredownandtheinningsshort。Overthefieldshungtheportentofsomethingtocome,everyplayer,everyspectatorfeltthesubtlebaseballchance;eachinningseemedtoleadcloserandmorethrillinglyuptotheclimax。Butattheendoftheseventh,withthescoretiedsixandsix,withdaringsteals,hardhitsandsplendidplays,enoughtohavemadememorableseveralgames,itseemedthatthegreatportentousmomentwasstillinabeyance。
  TheheadofthebattinglistforKansasCitywasup。Huntcaughtthefirstpitchedballsquarelyontheendofhisbat。Itwasamightydriveandastheballsoaredandsoaredoverthecenter—fieldHuntraceddownthebaseline,andthewinged—
  footedCranespedoutward,thebleacherssplittheirthroats。Thehitlookedgoodforahomerun,butCraneleapedupandcaughttheballinhisglovedhand。ThesuddensilenceandthenthelonggroanwhichrackedthebleacherswasgreatertributetoCrane’splaythananyapplause。
  BillieSheldonthenfacedSteele。Thefansroaredhoarsely,forBilliehadhitsafelythreetimesoutoffour。Steeleusedhiscurveball,buthecouldnotgetthebattertogoafterit。Whenhehadwastedthreeballs,thenever—despairingbleachershowled:``Now,Billie,inyourgroove!
  Stingthenextone!’’ButBilliewaited。Onestrike!Twostrikes!Steelecuttheplate。ThatwasatestwhichprovedSheldon’scaliber。
  Withseveninningsofexcitingplaypassed,withbothteamsonedge,withthebleacherswildandthegrandstandskeyeduptothebreakingpoint,witheverythingmakingdeliberationalmostimpossible,BillieSheldonhadremorselesslywaitedforthreeballsandtwostrikes。
  ``Now!……Now!……Now!’’shriekedthebleachers。
  Steelehadnottirednorlosthiscunning。WithhandsbeforehimhegrimlystudiedBillie,thenwhirlinghardtogetmoreweightintohismotion,hethrewtheball。
  Billieswungperfectlyandcutacurvinglinerbetweenthefirstbasemanandthebase。Likeashotitskippedoverthegrassoutalongthefoul—
  lineintorightfield。AmidtremendousuproarBilliestretchedthehitintoatriple,andwhenhegotupoutofthedustafterhisslideintothirdthenoiseseemedtobethecrashingdownofthebleachers。Itdiedoutwiththechokinggurglingyellofthemostleather—lungedfan。
  ``O—o—o—o—you—Billie—e!’’
  McReadymarchedupandpromptlyhitalongflytotheredoubtableCrane。Billiecrouchedinasprinter’spositionwithhiseyeonthegracefulfielder,waitingconfidentlyfortheballtodrop。
  Asiftherehadnotalreadybeensufficientheart—
  rendingmoments,thechancethatgovernedbaseballmetedoutthisplay;oneofthekeenest,mosttryingknowntothegame。Playerswaited,spectatorswaited,andtheinstantofthatdroppingballwasinterminablylong。EverybodyknewCranewouldcatchit;everybodythoughtofthewonderfulthrowingarmthathadmadehimfamous。WasitpossibleforBillieSheldontobeatthethrowtotheplate?
  CranemadethecatchandgottheballawayatthesameinstantSheldonleapedfromthebaseanddashedforhome。Thenalleyeswereontheball。Itseemedincrediblethataballthrownbyhumanstrengthcouldspeedplatewardsolow,sostraight,soswift。Butitlostitsforceandslanteddowntoboundintothecatcher’shandsjustasBillieslidovertheplate。
  Bythetimethebleachershadstoppedstampingandbawling,Curtisendedtheinningwithadifficultgroundertotheinfield。
  OncemoretheKansasCityplayerstookthefieldandBurnsCarrollsangoutinhislustyvoice:
  ``Keeplively,boys!Playhard!Dig’emupan’
  get’em!’’Indeedthebigcatcherwasthemain—
  stayofthehometeam。Thebulkoftheworkfelluponhisshoulders。Dalgrenwaswildandkepthiscatchercontinuallyblockinglowpitchesandwidecurvesandpoorlycontrolledhighfastballs。
  ButtheywereallaliketoCarroll。Despitehisweight,hewasasnimbleonhisfeetasagoat,andifheoncegothishandsontheballhenevermissedit。ItwashisencouragementthatsteadiedDalgren;hisjudgmentofhittersthatcarriedtheyoungpitcherthroughdangerousplaces;hislightningswiftgraspofpointsthatdirectedthemachine—likeworkofhisteam。
  InthisinningCarrollexhibitedanotherofhisdemonchasesafterafoulfly;hethrewthebase—
  stealingCraneoutatsecond,andbyaremarkableleapandstopofMcReady’sthrow,heblockedarunnerwhowouldhavetiedthescore。
  TheCowboysblankedtheiropponentsinthefirsthalfoftheninth,andtrottedinfortheirturnneedingoneruntotie,tworunstowin。
  Therehadscarcelybeenabreathingspellfortheonlookersinthisrapid—firegame。Everyinninghadheldthem,onemomentbreathless,thenextwildlyclamorous,andanotherwaitinginnumbfear。Whatdidtheselastfewmomentsholdinstore?TheonlyanswertothatwasthedoggedpluggingoptimismoftheDenverplayers。
  Tolistentothem,towatchthem,wastogathertheimpressionthatbaseballfortunealwaysfavoredthemintheend。
  ``Onlythreemore,Dal。Steadyboys,it’sourgame,’’rolledoutCarroll’sdeepbass。Howvirilehewas!Whatatowerofstrengthtotheweakeningpitcher!
  ButvaliantlyasDalgrentriedtorespond,hefailed。Thegrind——thestrainhadbeentoosevere。
  WhenhefinallydidlocatetheplateBluetthitsafely。Langleybuntedalongthebaselineandbeattheball。
  Ablank,deadquietsettleddownoverthebleachersandstands。Somethingfearfulthreatened。
  Whatmightnotcometopass,evenatthelastmomentofthisnerve—rackinggame?Therewasarunneronfirstandarunneronsecond。
  Thatwasbad。Exceedinglybadwasitthattheserunnerswereonbasewithnobodyout。WorstofallwasthefactthatKanewasup。Kane,thebestbunter,thefastestmantofirst,thehardesthitterintheleague!Thathewouldfailtoadvancethosetworunnerswasscarcelyworthconsideration。Onceadvanced,aflytotheoutfield,ascratch,anythingalmost,wouldtiethescore。
  Sothiswastheclimaxpresagedsomanytimesearlierinthegame。Dalgrenseemedtowiltunderit。
  KaneswunghisashviciouslyandcalledonDalgrentoputoneover。Dalgrenlookedintowardthebenchasifhewantedandexpectedtobetakenout。ButPatDonahuemadenosign。
  Pathadtrainedmanyapitcherbyforcinghimtotakehismedicine。ThenCarroll,maskunderhisarm,rollinghisbighandinhismitt,sauntereddowntothepitcher’sbox。Thesharporderoftheumpireinnowisedisconcertedhim。HesaidsomethingtoDalgren,vehementlynoddinghisheadthewhile。PlayersandaudiencealikesupposedhewastryingtoputalittleheartintoDalgren,andlikedhimthebetter,notwithstandingtheoppositiontotheumpire。
  Carrollsaunteredbacktohisposition。Headjustedhisbreastprotector,andputonhismask,deliberatelytakinghistime。Thenhesteppedbehindtheplate,andaftersigningforthepitch,heslowlymovedhisrighthanduptohismask。
  Dalgrenwoundup,tookhisswing,andletdrive。
  EvenashedeliveredtheballCarrollboundedawayfromhisposition,flingingoffthemaskashejumped。Forasinglefleetinginstant,thecatcher’spositionwasvacated。Butthatinstantwaslongenoughtomaketheaudiencegasp。Kanebuntedbeautifullydownthethirdbaseline,andthereCarrollstood,fifteenfeetfromtheplate,agileasahugemonkey。HewhippedtheballtoMahewatthird。Mahewwheeledquickasthoughtandlinedtheballtosecond。Sheldoncametearingforthebag,caughttheballontherun,andwithaviolentstopandwrenchthrewitlikeabullettofirstbase。FastasKanewas,theballbeathimtenfeet。Atripleplay!
  Theplayersofbothteamscheered,buttheaudience,slowertograspthecomplexandintricatepoints,neededalongmomenttorealizewhathadhappened。TheyneededanothertodivinethatCarrollhadanticipatedKane’sintentiontobunt,hadlefthispositionastheballwaspitched,hadplannedall,riskedall,playedallonKane’ssureeye;andsohehadretiredthesideandwonthegamebycreatingandexecutingtherarestplayinbaseball。
  Thentheaudienceroseinabodytogreetthegreatcatcher。Whatahoarsethunderingroarshookthestandsandwavedinablastoverthefield!Carrollstoodbowinghisacknowledgment,andthenswaggeredalittlewiththesunshiningonhishandsomeheatedface。Likeaconquerorconsciousoffullblownpowerhestalkedawaytotheclubhouse。
  MadgeEllstoncameoutofhertranceandviewedtheraggedscore—card,hertornparasol,herbatteredglovesandflyinghair,hergenerallydisheveledstatewithalittlestartofdismay,butwhenshegotintothethickandpressofthemovingcrowdshefoundallthewomenmoreorlessdisheveled。Andtheyseemedalltheprettierandfriendlierforthat。Itwasahappycrowdandvoiceswereconspicuouslyhoarse。
  WhenMadgeenteredthehotelparlorthateveningshefoundherunclewithguestsandamongthemwasBurnsCarroll。ThepresenceofthehandsomegiantaffectedMadgemoreimpellinglythaneverbefore,yetinsomeinexplicablydifferentway。Shefoundherselftrembling;shesensedacrisisinherfeelingsforthismananditfrightenedher。Shebecameconscioussuddenlythatshehadalwaysbeenafraidofhim。
  WatchingCarrollreceivethecongratulationsofmanyofthosepresent,shesawthathedominatedthemashehadher。Hismagnetismwasover—
  powering;hisgreatstatureseemedtofilltheroom;hiseasycarelessassuranceemanatedfromsuperiorstrength。Whenhespokelightlyofthegame,ofCrane’smarvelouscatch,ofDalgren’spitchingandofhisowntripleplay,itseemedtheseloomingfeaturesretreatedinperspective——somehowlosttheirvitalsignificancebecauseheslightedthem。
  InthelightofCarroll’silluminatingtalk,intheremembranceofSheldon’sbitterdenunciation,intheknowledgeofPatDonahue’sestimateofapeculiartypeofball—player,MadgeEllstonfoundherselfjudgingtheman——bravelytryingtoresisthischarm,tobefairtohimandtoherself。
  Carrollsoonmadehiswaytohersideandgreetedherwithhisoldfamiliarmannerofpossession。HoweverirritatingitmightbetoMadgewhenalone,nowitheldherbound。
  Carrollpossessedtheelementalattributesofaconqueror。WhenwithhimMadgewhimsicallyfearedthathewouldsnatchherupinhisarmsandcarryherbodilyoff,asthewarriorsofolddidwiththewomentheywanted。Butshebegantobelievethatthefascinationheexerciseduponherwasmerelyphysical。Thatgaveherpause。
  NotonlywasBurnsCarrollontrial,butalsoaveryfoolishflutteringlittlemoth——herself。Itwastimeenough,however,tobesternwithherselfaftershehadtriedhim。
  ``Wasn’tthatasplendidcatchofCrane’stoday?’’sheasked。
  ``Aluckystab!Cranehasahabitofrunningroundlikeanostrichandstickingoutahandtocatchaball。It’sagrand—standplay。Why,agoodoutfielderwouldhavebeenwaitingunderthatfly。’’
  ``Dalgrendidfineworkinthebox,don’tyouthink?’’
  ``Oh,thekid’sallrightwithanoldheadbackoftheplate。He’swild,though,andwillnevermakegoodinfastcompany。Iwonhisgametoday。
  Hewouldn’thavelastedaninningwithoutme。ItwasdeadwrongforPattopitchhim。
  Dalgrensimplycan’tpitchandhehasn’tsandenoughtolearn。’’
  AhotretorttrembleduponMadgeEllston’slips,butshewithhelditandquietlywatchedCarroll。Howcomplacenthewas,howutterlyself—
  contained!
  ``AndBillieSheldon——wasn’titgoodtoseehimbrace?Whathitting!……Thathomerun!’’
  ``Sheldonflasheduptoday。That’stheworstofsuchplayers。Thistalkofhisslumpisallrot。
  Whenhejoinedtheteamhemadesomeluckyhitsandthepaperslaudedhimasacomer,buthesoongotdowntohisrealform。Why,tobreakintoagamenowandthen,toshuthiseyesandhitacoupleonthenose——that’snotbaseball。
  Pat’sgivenhimtendays’notice,andhisreleasewillbeagoodmovefortheteam。Sheldon’snotfastenoughforthisleague。’’
  ``I’msorry。Heseemedsopromising,’’repliedMadge。``IlikedBilly——prettywell。’’
  ``Yes,thatwasevident,’’saidCarroll,firingup。``Inevercouldunderstandwhatyousawinhim。Why,Sheldon’snogood。He————’’
  MadgeturnedawhitefacethatsilencedCarroll。Sheexcusedherselfandreturnedtotheparlor,whereshehadlastseenheruncle。Notfindinghimthere,shewentintothelongcorridorandmetSheldon,Dalgrenandtwomoreoftheplayers。Madgecongratulatedtheyoungpitcherandtheotherplayersontheirbrilliantwork;andthey,nottobeoutdone,gallantlyattributedtheday’svictorytoherpresenceatthegame。Then,withoutknowingintheleasthowitcameabout,shepresentlyfoundherselfalonewithBilly,andtheywerestrollingintothemusic—room。
  ``Madge,didIbraceup?’’
  Thegirlriskedonequicklookathim。Howboyishheseemed,howeager!WhatanaltogetherdifferentBillie!Butwasthedifferenceallinhim!Somehow,despiteaconsciousshynessinthemomentshefeltnaturalandfree,withouttheuncertaintyandrestraintthathadalwaystroubledherwhilewithhim。
  ``Oh,Billie,thatglorioushomerun!’’
  ``Madge,wasn’tthathitadandy?HowImadeitisamystery,butthebatfeltlikeafeather。I
  thoughtofyou。Tellme——whatdidyouthinkwhenIhitthatballoverthefence?’’
  ``Billie,I’llnever,nevertellyou。’’
  ``Yes——please——Iwanttoknow。Didn’tyouthinksomething——niceofme?’’
  ThepinkspotsinMadge’scheekswidenedtocrimsonflames。
  ``Billie,areyoustill——crazyaboutme?Now,don’tcomesoclose。Can’tyoubehaveyourself?
  Anddon’tbreakmyfingerswithyouterriblebaseballhands……Well,whenyoumadethathitIjustcollapsedandIsaid————’’
  ``Sayit!Sayit!’’imploredBillie。
  Sheloweredherfaceandthenbravelyraisedit。
  ``Isaid,`Billie,Icouldhugyouforthat!’……
  Billie,letmego!Oh,youmustn’t!——please!’’
  QuitealittlewhileafterwardMadgerememberedtotellBilliethatshehadbeenseekingheruncle。TheymethimandPatDonahue,comingoutoftheparlor。
  ``Wherehaveyoubeenallevening?’’demandedMr。Ellston。