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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。