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。