首页 >出版文学> The Redheaded Outfield>第2章
  ``Con,how’dyoulikethatdrive?’’heaskedme,withabrightgleaminhiseyes。
  ``O—h—!——abeaut!’’Ireplied,incoherently。TheplayersonthebenchwereallasgladasIwas。
  Henleyflewouttoleft。Mullaneysmashedatwo—
  baggertoright。ThenGregghitsafely,butMullaney,intryingtoscoreontheplay,wasoutattheplate。
  ``Fourhits!Itellyoufellows,something’scomingoff,’’saidRaddy。``Now,ifonlyRube————’’
  Whatadifferencetherewasinthatlongrustic!
  Hestalkedintothebox,unmindfulofthehootingcrowdandgrimlyfacedSchultz,thefirstbatterupfortheBisons。ThistimeRubewasdeliberate。
  Andwherehehadnotswungbeforehenowgothisbodyandarmintofullmotion。Theballcameinlikeaglintoflight。Schultzlookedsurprised。Theumpirecalled``Strike!’’
  ``Wow!’’yelledtheBuffalocoacher。RubespedupthesidewheelerandSchultzreachedwidetomeetitandfailed。Thethirdwasthelightningdrop,straightovertheplate。Thebatterpokedweaklyatit。ThenCarlstruckoutandManningfollowing,didlikewise。ThreeofthebesthittersintheEasternretiredonninestrikes!Thatwasnofluke。Iknewwhatitmeant,andIsattherehuggingmyselfwiththehumofsomethingjoyousinmyears。
  Gregghadaglowonhissweatyface。``Oh,butsay,boys,takeatipfromme!TheRube’saworldbeater!Raddyknewit;hesizedupthatswing,andnowIknowit。Getwise,youits!’’
  WhenoldSpearspastedasinglethroughshortstop,theBuffalomanagertookClaryoutoftheboxandputinVane,theirbestpitcher。Bogartadvancedtherunnertosecond,butwasthrownoutontheplay。ThenRubecameup。HeswungahugebatandloomedovertheBison’stwirler。
  Rubehadthelookofahitter。Heseemedtobeholdinghimselfbackfromwalkingrightintotheball。Andhehitonehighandfaraway。ThefastCarlcouldnotgetunderit,thoughhemadeavalianteffort。SpearsscoredandRube’slongstridescarriedhimtothird。Thecoldcrowdinthestandscametolife;eventhesorebleachersopenedup。McCalldumpedaslowteaserdowntheline,ahitthatwouldeasilyhavescoredRube,butheranalittleway,thenstopped,triedtogetback,andwaseasilytouchedout。Ashwell’shardchancegavetheBison’sshortstopanerror,andStringercameupwithtwomenonbases。Stringerhitafoulovertheright—fieldfenceandthecrowdhowled。Thenhehitahardlongdrivestraightintothecenterfielder’shands。
  ``Con,Idon’tknowwhattothink,butdingmeifweain’thittin’theball,’’saidSpears。Thentohisplayers:``Alittlemoreofthatandwe’rebackinouroldshape。Allinaminute——at’emnow!Rube,youdingedoldPogie,pitch!’’
  Rubetoedtherubber,wrappedhislongbrownfingersroundtheball,steppedoutasheswungand——zing!ThatinningheunloosedafewmorekinksinhisarmandhetriedsomenewballsupontheBisons。Butwhateverheusedandwhereverheputthemtheresultwasthesame——theycuttheplateandtheBisonswerepowerless。
  Thatinningmarkedthechangeinmyteam。
  Theyhadcomehack。Thehoodoohadvanished。
  ThechampionshipWorcesterteamwasitselfagain。
  TheBisonswerefighting,too,butRubehadthemhelpless。Whentheydidhitaballoneofmyinfielderssnappeditup。Nochanceswenttotheoutfield。Isattherelisteningtomymen,andreveledinamomentthatIhadlongprayedfor。
  ``Nowyou’repitchingsome,Rube。Anotherstrike!Gethimaboard!’’calledAshwell。
  ``Ding’em,Rube,ding’em!’’camefromCapt。
  Spears。
  ``Speed?Oh—no!’’yelledBogartatthirdbase。
  ``It’salloff,Rube!It’salloff——alloff!’’
  So,withthewonderfulpitchingofanangryrube,theWorcesterteamcameintoitsownagain。Isatthroughitallwithoutanotherword;
  withoutgivingasignal。InawayIrealizedtheawakeningofthebleachers,andheardthepoundoffeetandthecrash,butitwasthespiritofmyteamthatthrilledme。Nexttothattheworkofmynewfindabsorbedme。Igloatedoverhiseasy,deceivingswing。Iroseoutofmyseatwhenhethrewthatstraightfastball,swiftasabullet,trueasaplumbline。Andwhenthosehard—hitting,surebuntingBisonschoppedinvainatthewonderfuldrop,Ichokedbackawildyell。ForRubemeanttheworldtomethatday。
  Intheeighththescorewas8to6。TheBisonshadonescratchhittotheircredit,butnotarunnerhadgotbeyondfirstbase。AgainRubeheldthemsafely,onemanstrikingout,anotherfoulingout,andthethirdgoingoutonalittlefly。
  Crash!Crash!Crash!Crash!Thebleachersweremakingupformanygamesinwhichtheycouldnotexpresstheirriotousfeelings。
  ``It’sacinchwe’llwin!’’yelledafanwithavoice。Rubewasthefirstmanupinourhalfoftheninthandhisbigbatlammedthefirstballsafeoversecondbase。Thecrowd,hungryforvictory,gottotheirfeetandstayedupontheirfeet,calling,cheeringforruns。Itwasthemomentformetogetinthegame,andIleapedup,strunglikeawire,andwhitehotwithinspiration。
  IsentSpearstothecoachingboxwithorderstomakeRuberunonthefirstball。I
  grippedMcCallwithhandsthatmadehimwince。
  ThenIdroppedbackonthebenchspentandpanting。Itwasonlyagame,yetitmeantsomuch!LittleMcCallwasdarkasathundercloud,andhisfieryeyessnapped。Hewasthefastestmanintheleague,andcouldhavebuntedanarrowfromabow。ThefoxyBisonthirdbasemanedgedin。Macfeintedtobunttowardhimthenturnedhisbatinwardanddumpedateasingcurvingballdownthefirstbaseline。Ruberanasifinseven—leagueboots。Mac’sshortlegstwinkled;hewentlikethewind;heleapedintofirstbasewithhislongslide,andbeatthethrow。
  Thestandsandbleachersseemedtobetumblingdown。Foramomenttheairwasfullofdeafeningsound。Thencamethepause,thedyingawayofclatterandroar,theclosewaiting,suspendedquiet。Spears’clearvoice,ashecoachedRube,initskeennoteseemedinevitableofanotherrun。
  Ashwelltookhisstand。Hewasanotherleft—
  handhitter,andagainstaright—handpitcher,insuchcircumstancesasthese,themostdangerousofmen。Vaneknewit。Ellis,theBisoncaptainknewit,asshowedplainlyinhissignaltocatchRubeatsecond。ButSpears’warningheldorfrightenedRubeonthebag。
  Vanewastedaball,thenanother。Ashwellcouldnotbecoaxed。WearilyVaneswung;theshortstopracedouttogetinlineforapossiblehitthroughthewidespacetohisright,andthesecondbasemangotonhistoesasbothbaserunnersstarted。
  Crack!Theoldstoryofthehitandrungame!
  Ashwell’shitcrossedsharplywhereamomentbeforetheshortstophadbeenstanding。WithgiganticstridesRuberoundedthecornerandscored。McCallflittedthroughsecond,anddivingintothirdwithacloudofdust,gottheumpire’sdecision。WhenStringerhurriedupwithMaconthirdandAshonfirstthewholefieldseemedrackedinadeafeningstorm。Againitsubsidedquickly。ThehopesoftheWorcesterfanshadbeencrushedtoooftenoflateforthemtobefearless。
  ButIhadnofear。Ionlywantedthesuspenseended。Iwaslikeamanclampedinavise。
  Stringerstoodmotionless。Macbentlowwiththesprinters’stoop;Ashwatchedthepitcher’sarmandslowlyedgedofffirst。Stringerwaitedforonestrikeandtwoballs,thenhehitthenext。Ithuggedthefirstbaseline,bouncedfiercelypastthebagandskippedoverthegrasstobumphardintothefence。McCallrompedhome,andlameAshwellbeatanyrunheevermadetotheplate。
  Rolling,swelling,crashingroaroffrenziedfeetcouldnotdownthehighpiercingsustainedyellofthefans。Itwasgreat。Threeweeksofsubmergedbottledbaseballjoyexplodedinonemadoutburst!Thefans,too,hadcomeintotheirownagain。
  Wescorednomore。ButtheBisonswerebeaten。Theirspiritwasbroken。ThisdidnotmaketheRubeletupintheirlasthalfinning。
  Grimandpalehefacedthem。Ateverylongstepandswinghetossedhisshockoflighthair。Attheendhewasevenstrongerthanatthebeginning。
  Hestillhadtheglancing,floatingairyqualitythatbaseballplayerscallspeed。Andhestruckoutthelastthreebatters。
  InthetumultthatburstovermyearsIsatstaringatthedotsonmyscorecard。Fourteenstrikeouts!onescratchhit!Nobaseonballssincethefirstinning!Thattoldthestorywhichdeadenedsensesdoubted。Therewasaroarinmyears。Someonewaspoundingme。AsIstruggledtogetintothedressingroomthecrowdmobbedme。ButIdidnothearwhattheyyelled。
  Ihadakindofmistyveilbeforemyeyes,inwhichIsawthatlankyRubemagnifiedintoagloriousfigure。Isawthepennantwaving,andthegleamofawhitecottagethroughthetrees,andatrimfigurewaitingatthegate。ThenI
  rolledintothedressingroom。
  Somehowitseemedstrangetome。Mostoftheplayerswerestretchedoutinpeculiarconvulsions。
  OldSpearssatwithdroopinghead。Thenawildflaming—eyedgiantswoopeduponme。Withavoiceofthunderheannounced:
  ``I’ma—goin’tolickyou,too!’’
  AfterthatwenevercalledhimanynameexceptRube。
  THERUBE’SPENNANT
  ``Fellows,it’sthisway。You’vegottowintoday’sgame。It’sthelastoftheseasonandmeansthepennantforWorcester。Onemorehardscrapandwe’redone!Ofalltheup—hillfightsanybunchevermadetolandtheflag,ourhasbeenthebest。You’rethebestteamIevermanaged,thegamestgangofballplayersthateversteppedinspikes。We’veplayedinthehardestkindofluckallseason,exceptthatshorttripwecalledtheRube’sHoneymoon。Wegotabadstart,andsorearmsandbustedfingers,allkindsofinjuries,everyaccidentcalculatedtohurtateam’schances,cameourway。Butinspiteofitallwegottheleadandwe’veheldit,andtodaywe’restillafewpointsaheadofBuffalo。’’
  Ipausedtocatchmybreath,andlookedroundonthegrim,tiredfacesofmyplayers。Theymadeasterngroup。Thecloseoftheseasonfoundthemalmostplayedout。Whatahardchanceitwas,aftertheirextraordinaryefforts,tobringtheissueofthepennantdowntothislastgame!
  ``Ifwelosetoday,Buffalo,withthreegamesmoretoplayathome,willpullthebunting,’’I
  wenton。``Butthey’renotgoingtowin!I’mputtingituptoyouthatway。IknowSpearsisallin;Raddy’sarmisgone;Ashisplayingononeleg;you’reallcrippled。Butyou’vegotonemoregameinyou,Iknow。TheselastfewweekstheRubehasbeenpitchingoutofturnandhe’saboutallin,too。He’skeptusinthelead。Ifhewinstodayit’llbeRube’sPennant。Butthatmightapplytoallofyou。Now,shallwetalkovertheplaytoday?Anytrickstopulloff?Anyinsidework?’’
  ``Con,you’reprettymuchupsetan’nervous,’’
  repliedSpears,soberly。``Itain’tnowonder。
  Thishasbeenonecorkerofaseason。Iwanttosuggestthatyouletmeruntheteamtoday。I’vetalkedovertheplaywiththefellers。Weain’tgoin’tolosethisgame,Con。Buffalohasbeencomin’witharushlately,an’they’reconfident。
  Butwe’vebeenholdin’in,restin’upasmuchaswedaredan’stillkeepourlead。Mebbeeit’llsurpriseyoutoknowwe’vebeteverydollarwecouldgetholdofonthisgame。Why,Buffalomoneyiseverywhere。’’
  ``Allright,Spears,I’llturntheteamovertoyou。We’vegotthebannercrowdoftheyearoutthererightnow,agreatcrowdtoplaybefore。
  I’mmorefussedupoverthisgamethananyI
  remember。ButIhaveasortofblindfaithinmyteam……Iguessthat’sallIwanttosay。’’
  SpearsledthesilentplayersoutofthedressingroomandIfollowed;andwhiletheybegantotossballstoandfro,tolimberupcold,deadarms,Isatonthebench。
  TheBisonswereprancingaboutthediamond,andtheirswaggeringassurancewasnotconducivetohopefortheWorcesters。Iwonderedhowmanyofthatvast,noisyaudience,intentontheday’ssport,evenhadathoughtofwhatpainandtoilitmeanttomyplayers。TheBuffalomenwereingoodshape;theyhadbeenlucky;theywereatthetopoftheirstride,andthatmadeallthedifference。
  Atanyrate,therewereafewfaithfullittlewomeninthegrandstand——MillyandNanandRoseStringerandKateBogart——whosatwithcompressedlipsandhopedandprayedforthatgametobeginandend。
  Thegongcalledoffthepractice,andSpears,takingthefield,yelledgruffencouragementtohismen。UmpireCarterbrushedofftheplateandtossedawhiteballtoRubeandcalled:``Play!’’
  Thebleacherssetupanexultant,satisfiedshoutandsatdowntowait。
  SchultztoedtheplateandwatchedtheRubepitchacouple。Thereseemedtobenodiminutionofthegreatpitcher’sspeedandbothballscuttheplate。Schultzclippedthenextonedownthethird—
  baseLine。Bogarttrappeditclosetothebag,andgotitawayunderhand,beatingthespeedyrunnerbyanose。Itwasaprettyplaytostartwith,andthespectatorswerenotclose—mouthedinappreciation。Theshort,stockyCarlambleduptobat,andIheardhimcalltheRubesomething。Itwasnotafriendlycontest,thisdecidinggamebetweenBuffaloandWorcester。
  ``Bingoneclosetohisswellednut!’’growledSpearstotheRube。
  CarlchoppedabouncinggrounderthroughshortandAshwasafteritlikeatiger,butitwasahit。TheBuffalocontingentopenedup。ThenManningfacedtheRube,andhe,too,ventedsarcasm。Itmightnothavebeenheardbytheslow,imperturbablepitcherforallthenoticehetook。
  Carledgedofffirst,slidbacktwice,gotathirdstart,andontheRube’spitchwasoffforsecondbasewiththeleadthatalwaysmadehimdangerous。
  Manningswungvainly,andGreggsnappedathrowtoMullaney。Ballandrunnergottothebagapparentlysimultaneously;theumpirecalledCarlout,andthecrowdutteredaquickroarofdelight。
  ThenextpitchtoManningwasastrike。Rubewasnotwastinganyballs,apointInotedwithmingledfearandsatisfaction。Forhemighthavefeltthathehadnostrengthtosparethatdayandsocouldnottrytoworkthebatters。Againheswung,andManningrappedalonglineflyoverMcCall。Asthelittleleftfielderturnedatthesoundofthehitandsprintedout,hislamenesswascertainlynotinevidence。Hewastheswiftestrunnerintheleagueandalwayswhenhegotgoingthecrowdroseinwildclamortowatchhim。
  Mactookthatflyrightoffthefoulflagindeepleft,andthebleachersdinnedtheirpleasure。
  Theteamschangedpositions。``Fellers,’’saidSpears,savagely,``wemaybeabunged—uplotofstiffs,but,say!Wecanhit!Ifyouloveyouroldcaptain——stingtheball!’’
  Vane,theBisonpitcher,surelyhadhisworkcutoutforhim。ForonesympatheticmomentI
  sawhispartthroughhiseyes。MyWorcesterveterans,longusedtobeingunderfire,wererelentlesslybentontakingthatgame。Itshowedinmanyways,particularlyintheirsilence,becausetheywereseldomasilentteam。McCallhesitatedamomentoverhisbats。Then,ashepickedupthelightestone,Isawhisjawset,andIknewheintendedtobunt。Hewaslame,yethemeanttobeatoutaninfieldhit。Hewentupscowling。
  Vanehadanoldhead,andhehadavariedassortmentofballs。ForMacheusedanunderhandcurve,risingattheplateandcurvingintotheleft—hander。Macsteppedbackandletitgo。
  ``That’stheplace,Bo,’’criedtheBuffaloinfielders。``Keep’emcloseontheCrab。’’EagerandfierceasMcCallwas,heletpitchafterpitchgobytillhehadthreeballsandtwostrikes。StilltheheadyVanesentupanotherpitchsimilartotheothers。Macsteppedforwardinthebox,droppedhisbatontheball,andleapeddownthelinetowardfirstbase。Vanecamerushinginforthebunt,gotitandthrew。Butasthespeedingballnearedthebaseman,Macstretchedoutintotheairandshotforthebag。Byafractionofasecondhebeattheball。Itwasoneofhisdemon—
  slides。Heknewthatthechancesfavoredhisbeingcrippled;weallknewthatsomedayMacwouldsliderecklesslyoncetoooften。Butthat,too,isallinthegameandinthespiritofagreatplayer。
  ``We’reon,’’saidSpears;``nowkeepwithhim。’’
  BythatthecaptainmeantthatMacwouldgodown,andAshwellwouldhitwiththerun。
  WhenVanepitched,littleMcCallwasflittingtowardsecond。TheBisonshortstopstartedforthebag,andAshhitsquarethroughhistracks。
  Arollingcheerburstfromthebleachers,andswelledtillMcCalloverranthirdbaseandwasthrownbackbythecoacher。Stringerhurriedforwardwithhisbigbat。
  ``Oh!My!’’yelledafan,andhevoicedmysentimentsexactly。Herewewouldscore,andbeonerunclosertothatdearlyboughtpennant。
  Howwellmymenworkedtogether!Asthepitcherlettheballgo,AshwasdiggingforsecondandMacwasshootingplateward。TheyplayedonthechanceofStringer’shitting。
  Stringerswung,thebatcracked,weheardathudsomewhere,andthenManning,halfknockedover,wasfumblingfortheball。Hehadknockeddownaterrificdrivewithhismitt,andhegottheballintimetoputStringerout。ButMacscoredandAshdrewathrowtothirdbaseandbeatit。Hehadabadankle,butnoonenoticeditinthatdaringrun。
  ``Watchmepasteone!’’saidCaptainSpears,ashespatseveralyards。Hebattedoutaflysolongandhighandfarthat,slowashewas,hehadnearlyruntosecondbasewhenCarlmadethecatch。Asheasilyscoredonthethrow—in。ThenBogartsentoneskippingoversecond,andTreadwell,scoopingitontherun,completedaplaythatshowedwhyhewasconsideredthestaroftheBisoninfield。
  ``Tworuns,fellers!’’saidSpears。``That’ssome!Push’emover,Rube。’’
  Thesecondinningsomewhatquickenedthepace。EventheRubeworkedalittlefaster。EllislinedtoCairnsinright;Treadwellfouledtwoballsandhadacalledstrike,andwasout;McKnighthitalowflyovershort,thenBudWilersentonebetweenSpearsandMullaney。SpearswentforitwhiletheRubewithgiantstridesrantocoverfirstbase。BetweenthemtheygotBud,butitwasonlybecausehewasheavyandslowonhisfeet。
  InourhalfofthatinningMullaney,GreggandCairnswentoutinone,two,threeorder。
  WithPannellup,IsawthattheRubeheldinonhisspeed,orelsehewastiring。Pannellhitthesecondslowballfortwobases。Vanesacrificed,andthentheredoubtableSchultzcameup。
  Heappearedtobeinnohurrytobat。ThenI
  sawthatthefoxyBuffaloplayerswereworkingtotiretheRube。Theyhadthesituationfigured。
  ButtheywerenowiserthanoldSpears。
  ``Make’emhit,Rube。Push’emstraightover。
  Nevermindthecorners。Wedon’tcareforafewruns。We’llhitthisgameout。’’
  ShultzfliedtoMac,whomadeabeautifulthrowtotheplatetoolatetocatchPannell。CarldeliberatelybuntedtotherightoftheRubeanditcostthebigpitcherstrenuousefforttocatchhisman。
  ``WegottheRubewaggin’!’’yelledaBuffaloplayer。
  Manningtripleddowntheleftfoulline——ahitthebleacherscalledascreamer。WhenElliscameup,itlookedlikeatiescore,andwhentheRubepitcheditwasplainthathewastired。TheBisonsyelledtheirassuranceofthisandtheaudiencesettledintoquiet。Ellisbattedascorcherthatlookedgoodforahit。ButthefastAshwellwasmovingwiththeball,andheplungedlengthwisetogetitsquareinhisglove。Thehithadbeensosharpthathehadtimetogetupandmakethethrowtobeattherunner。Thebleachersthunderedattheplay。
  ``You’reup,Rube,’’calledSpears。``Lamoneoutofthelot!’’
  TheRubewasanuncertainbatter。Therewasneveranytellingwhathemightdo,forhehadspellsofgoodandbadhitting。Butwhenhedidgethisbatontheballitmeantachaseforsomefielder。Hewentupswinginghishugeclub,andhehitaflythatwouldhavebeenaneasyhomerunforafastman。ButthebestRubecoulddowastoreachthirdbase。Thiswascertainlygoodenough,asthebleachersloudlyproclaimed,andanothertallyforusseemedsure。
  McCallbuntedtowardthird,anotherofhisteasers。TheRubewouldsurelyhavescoredhadhestartedwiththeball,buthedidnottryandmissedachance。Wiler,ofcourse,heldtheball,andMacgottofirstwithoutspecialeffort。Hewentdownonthefirstpitch。ThenAshlinedtoCarl。TheRubewaitedtilltheballwascaughtandstartedforhome。Thecrowdscreamed,theRuberanforallhewasworthandCarl’sthrowtotheplateshotinlowandtrue。EllisblockedtheRubeandtaggedhimout。
  ItlookedtothebleachersasifEllishadbeenunnecessarilyrough,andtheyhissedandstormeddisapproval。Asforme,IknewtheBisonswerelosingnochancetowearoutmypitcher。StringerfouledoutwithMaconthird,anditmadehimsoangrythathethrewhisbattowardthebench,makingsomeoftheboysskiplively。
  Thenextthreeinnings,asfarasscoringwasconcerned,wereallforBuffalo。ButtheWorcesterinfieldplayedmagnificentball,holdingtheiropponentstooneruneachinning。
  Thatmadethescore4to2infavorofBuffalo。
  Inthelasthalfofthesixth,withAshonfirstbaseandtwomenout,oldSpearshitanotherofhisloftyflies,andthisonewentoverthefenceandtiedthescore。Howthebleachersroared!
  Itwasfulltwominutesbeforetheyquieteddown。
  Tomakeitallthemoreexciting,Bogarthitsafely,ranlikeadeertothirdonMullaney’sgrounder,whichWilerknockeddown,andscoredonapassedball。Greggendedtheinningbystrikingout。
  ``GetattheRube!’’boomedEllis,theBisoncaptain。``We’llhavehimupintheairsoon。Getinthegamenow,youstickers!’’
  BeforeIknewwhathadhappened,theBisonshadagaintiedthescore。Theywereindomitable。
  Theygrewstrongerallthetime。Astrokeofgoodlucknowwouldclinchthegameforthem。
  TheRubewasbeginningtolaborinthebox;Ashwellwaslimping;Spearslookedasifhewoulddropanymoment;McCallcouldscarcelywalk。
  Butiftheballcamehiswayhecouldstillrun。
  Nevertheless,Ineversawanyfinerfieldingthanthesecrippedplayersexecutedthatinning。
  ``Ash——Mac——canyouholdout?’’Iasked,whentheylimpedin。Ireceivedglancesofscornformyquestion。Spears,however,wasnotsanguine。
  ``I’llstickprettymuchifsomethin’doesn’thappen,’’hesaid;``butI’mallin。I’llneedarunnerifIgettofirstthistime。’’
  SpearslumbereddowntofirstbaseonaninfieldhitandtheheavyManninggavehimthehip。
  OldSpearswentdown,andIforoneknewhewasoutinmorewaysthanthatsignifiedbyCarter’ssharp:``Out!’’
  Theoldwar—horsegatheredhimselfupslowlyandpainfully,andwithhisarmsfoldedandhisjawprotruding,helimpedtowardtheumpire。
  ``Didyoucallmeout?’’heasked,inavoiceplainlyaudibletoanyoneonthefield。
  ``Yes,’’snappedCarter。
  ``Whatfor?Ibeattheball,an’Mannin’
  playeddirtywithme——gavemethehip。’’
  ``Icalledyouout。’’
  ``ButIwasn’tout!’’
  ``Shutupnow!Getoffthediamond!’’orderedCarter,peremptorily。
  ``What?Me?Say,I’mcaptainofthisteam。
  Can’tIquestionadecision?’’
  ``Notmine。Spears,you’redelayingthegame。’’
  ``Itellyouitwasarottendecision,’’yelledSpears。Thebleachersagreedwithhim。
  Cartergrewredintheface。HeandSpearshadbeforethenmetinfieldsquabbles,andheshowedit。
  ``Fiftydollars!’’
  ``More!Youcheap—skateyoupiker!More!’’
  ``It’sahundred!’’
  ``Putmeoutofthegame!’’roaredSpears。
  ``Youbet!Hurrynow——skedaddle!’’
  ``Rob—b—ber!’’bawledSpears。
  Thenhelaboredslowlytowardthebench,allred,andyetwithperspiration,hisdemeanoroneofoutrageddignity。Thegreatcrowd,asoneman,stoodupandyelledhoarselyatCarter,andhissedandrailedathim。WhenSpearsgottothebenchhesatdownbesidemeasifinpain,buthewassmiling。
  ``Con,Iwasallin,an’knowin’Icouldn’tplayanylonger,thoughtI’dtrytoscareCarter。Say,hewaswhiteintheface。Ifweplayintoaclosedecisionnow,he’llgiveittous。’’
  BogartandMullaneybattedoutinshortorder,andoncemoretheaggressiveBisonshurriedinfortheirturn。SpearssentCairnstofirstbaseandJonestoright。TheRubelobbeduphisslowball。Inthattightpinchheshowedhissplendidnerve。TwoBuffaloplayers,over—anxious,poppedupflies。TheRubekeptonpitchingtheslowcurveuntilitwashitsafely。Thenheavinghisshoulderswithallhismighthegotallthemotionpossibleintohisswingandletdrive。
  Hehadalmostallofhisoldspeed,butithurtmetoseehimworkwithsuchdesperateeffort。
  HestruckWilerout。
  Hecamestoopingintothebench,apparentlydeaftothestunningroundofapplause。EveryplayerontheteamhadawordfortheRube。
  Therewasnoquittinginthatbunch,andifIeversawvictoryonthesternfacesofballplayersitwasinthatmoment。
  ``Wehaven’topenedupyet。Mebbeethisistheinnin’。Ifitain’t,thenextis,’’saidSpears。
  Withtheweakendofthebattinglistup,thereseemedlittlehopeofgettingarunonVanethatinning。HehadsomuchconfidencethatheputtheballoverforGregg,whohitoutofthereachoftheinfield。AgainVanesentuphisstraightball,nodoubtexpectingCairnstohitintoadoubleplay。ButCairnssurprisedVaneandeverybodyelsebypokingasafetypastfirstbase。
  Thefansbegantohowlandpoundandwhistle。
  TheRubestrodetobat。Theinfieldclosedinforabunt,buttheRubehadnoordersforthatstyleofplay。Spearshadsaidnothingtohim。
  Vanelosthisnonchalanceandsettleddown。Hecutloosewithallhisspeed。Rubesteppedout,suddenlywhirled,thentriedtododge,buttheballhithimfairintheback。Rubesaggedinhistracks,thenstraightenedup,andwalkedslowlytofirstbase。Score5to5,basesfull,noouts,McCallatbat。Isatdumbonthebench,thrillingandshivering。McCall!Ashwell!Stringertobat!
  ``Playitsafe!Holdthebags!’’yelledthecoacher。
  McCallfairlyspouteddefianceashefacedVane。
  ``Pitch!It’salloff!An’youknowit!’’
  IfVaneknewthat,heshowednoevidenceofit。Hisfacewascold,unsmiling,rigid。HehadtopitchtoMcCall,thefastestmanintheleague;
  toAshwell,thebestbunter;toStringer,thechampionbatter。Itwasasupremetestforagreatpitcher。TherewasonlyonekindofaballthatMcCallwasnotsuretohit,andthatwasahighcurve,inclose。Vanethrewitwithallhispower。
  Cartercalleditastrike。AgainVaneswungandhisarmfairlycracked。Macfouledtheball。Thethirdwaswide。Slowly,withliftingbreast,Vanegotready,whirledsavagelyandshotuptheball。
  McCallstruckout。
  AstheBuffaloplayerscrowedandtheaudiencegroaneditwasworthyofnotethatlittleMcCallshowednotemper。Yethehadfailedtograspagreatopportunity。
  ``Ash,Icouldn’tsee’em,’’hesaid,ashepassedtothebench。``Speed,whew!lookoutforit。
  He’sbeensavin’up。Hitquick,an’you’llgethim。’’
  AshwellbentovertheplateandgloweredatVane。
  ``Pitch!It’salloff!An’youknowit!’’hehissed,usingMac’swords。
  Ashwell,too,wasleft—handed;he,too,wasextremelyhardtopitchto;andifhehadaweaknessthatanyofuseverdiscovered,itwasaslowcurveandchangeofpace。ButIdoubtedifVanewoulddaretouseslowballstoAshatthatcriticalmoment。IhadyettolearnsomethingofVane。
  HegaveAshaslow,wide—sweepingsidewheeler,thatcurvedroundovertheplate。Ashalwaystookastrike,sothisdidnotmatter。ThenVaneusedhisdeceptivechangeofpace,sendingupacurvethatjustmissedAsh’sbatasheswung。
  ``Oh!A—h—h!hit!’’wailedthebleachers。
  Vanedoubleduplikeacontortionist,andshotupalightning—swiftdropthatfooledAshcompletely。Againthecrowdgroaned。Scoretied,basesfull,twoout,Stringeratbat!
  ``It’suptoyou,String,’’calledAsh,steppingaside。
  StringerdidnotcallouttoVane。Thatwasnothisway。Hestoodtenseandalert,batonhisshoulder,hispowerfulformbraced,andhewaited。Theoutfielderstrottedovertowardrightfield,andtheinfieldersplayeddeep,callingoutwarningsandencouragementtothepitcher。
  Stringerhadnoweakness,andVaneknewthis。
  Neverthelesshedidnotmanifestanyuneasiness,andpitchedthefirstballwithoutanyextramotion。Cartercalleditastrike。IsawStringersinkdownslightlyandgrowtenserallover。I
  believethatmomentwaslongerformethanforeitherthepitcherorthebatter。Vanetookhistime,watchedthebaserunners,feintedtothrowtocatchthem,andthendeliveredtheballtowardtheplatewiththelimitofhispower。
  Stringerhittheball。AslongasIlive,Iwillseethatglancinglowliner。Shultz,byawonderfulplayindeepcenter,blockedtheballandtherebysaveditfrombeingahomerun。ButwhenStringerstoppedonsecondbase,alltherunnershadscored。
  Ashrill,shrieking,high—pitchedyell!Thebleachersthreatenedtodestroythestandsandalsotheirthroatsinonelongrevelofbaseballmadness。
  Jones,battinginplaceofSpears,hadgoneupandfouledoutbeforetheuproarhadsubsided。
  ``Fellers,IreckonIfeeleasier,’’saidtheRube。
  ItwastheonlytimeIhadeverheardhimspeaktotheplayersatsuchastage``Onlysixbatters,Rube,’’calledoutSpears。
  ``Boys,it’sagrandgame,an’it’sour’n!’’
  TheRubehadenoughthatinningtodisposeofthelowerhalfoftheBuffalolistwithoutanyalarmingbidsforarun。Andinourhalf,BogartandMullaneyhitviciousgroundballsthatgaveTreadwellandWileropportunitiesforsuperbplays。Carl,likewise,madeabeautifulrunningcatchofGregg’slinefly。TheBisonswerestillinthegame,stillcapableofpullingitoutatthelastmoment。
  WhenShultzstalkeduptotheplateIshutmyeyesamoment,andsostillwasitthatthefieldandstandsmighthavebeenempty。Yet,thoughItried,Icouldnotkeepmyeyesclosed。IopenedthemtowatchtheRube。IknewSpearsfeltthesameasI,forhewasblowinglikeaporpoiseandmutteringtohimself:``MebeetheRubewon’tlastan’I’venoonetoputin!’’
  TheRubepitchedwithheavy,violenteffort。
  Hehadstillenoughspeedtobedangerous。ButafterthemannerofballplayersShultzandthecoachersmockedhim。
  ``Takeallyoucan,’’calledEllistoShultz。
  EverypitchlessenedtheRube’sstrengthandthesewiseopponentsknewit。LikewisetheRubehimselfknew,andneverhadheshownbetterheadworkthaninthisinning。Ifheweretowin,hemustbequick。Sohewastednotaball。Thefirstpitchandthesecond,deliveredbreasthighandfairlyovertheplate,beautifulballstohit,Shultzwatchedspeedby。HeswunghardonthethirdandthecrippledAshwelldoveforitinacloudofdust,gotahandinfrontofit,butuselessly,forthehitwassafe。Thecrowdcheeredthatsplendideffort。
  Carlmarchedtobat,andheswunghisclubovertheplateasifheknewwhattoexpect。``Comeon,Rube!’’heshouted。Wearily,doggedly,theRubewhirled,andwhippedhisarm。Theballhadallhisoldglancingspeedanditwasastrike。
  TheRubewasmakingatremendouseffort。
  Againhegothisbodyinconvulsivemotion——twostrikes!Shultzhadmadenomovetorun,norhadCarlmadeanymovetohit。Theseveteranswerewaiting。TheRubehadpitchedfivestrikes——couldhelast?
  ``Now,Carl!’’yelledEllis,withstartlingsuddenness,astheRubepitchedagain。
  Crack!Carlplacedthathitassafelythroughshortasifhehadthrownit。McCall’slittlelegstwinkledashedashedoverthegrass。Hehadtoheadoffthathitandheranlikeastreak。Downandforwardhepitched,asifinoneofhisfierceslides,andhegothisbodyinfrontoftheball,blockingit,andthenherolledoverandover。ButhejumpedupandlinedtheballtoBogart,almostcatchingShultzatthird—base。Then,asMactriedtowalk,hislamelegbuckledunderhim,anddownhewent,andout。
  ``Calltime,’’IcalledtoCarter。``McCallisdone……Myers,yougotoleftan’forLord’ssakeplayball!’’
  StringerandBogarthurriedtoMacand,liftinghimupandsupportinghimbetweenthemwithhisarmsaroundtheirshoulders,theyledhimoffamidcheersfromthestands。Macwaswhitewithpain。
  ``Naw,Iwon’tgooffthefield。Leavemeonthebench,’’hesaid。``Fight’emnow。It’sourgame。Nevermindacoupleofruns。’’
  TheboysranbacktotheirpositionsandCartercalledplay。PerhapsalittledelayhadbeenhelpfultotheRube。SlowlyhesteppedintotheboxandwatchedShultzatthirdandCarlatsecond。
  Therewasnotmuchprobabilityofhisthrowingtocatchthemoffthebase,butenoughofapossibilitytomakethemcareful,soheheldthemclose。
  TheRubepitchedastriketoManning,thenanother。Thatmadeeightstrikessquareovertheplatethatinning。Whatmagnificentcontrol!ItwasequaledbytheimplacablepatienceofthoseveteranBisons。ManninghitthenextballashardasCarlhadhithis。ButMullaneyplungeddown,cameupwiththeball,feintedtofoolCarl,thenletdrivetoGreggtocatchthefleetingShultz。
  Thethrowwentwide,butGregggotit,and,leapinglengthwise,taggedShultzoutayardfromtheplate。
  Oneout。Tworunnersonbases。Thebleachersroseandsplittheirthroats。Wouldtheinningneverend?
  Spearskepttellinghimself:``They’llscore,butwe’llwin。It’sourgame!’’
  IhadasickeningfearthatthestrangeconfidencethatobsessedtheWorcesterplayershadbeenblind,unreasoningvanity。
  ``Carlwillsteal,’’mutteredSpears。``Hecan’tbestopped。’’
  Spearshadcalledtheplay。TheRubetriedtoholdthelittlebase—stealerclosetosecond,but,afteroneattempt,wiselyturnedtohishardtaskofmakingtheBisonshitandhitquickly。Ellislettheballpass;Greggmadeaperfectthrowtothird;Bogartcaughttheballandmovedlikeaflash,butCarlslidunderhishandstothebag。
  Manningrandowntosecond。TheRubepitchedagain,andthiswashistenthballovertheplate。
  EventheBuffaloplayersevincedeloquentappreciationoftheRube’sdefenceatthislaststand。
  ThenEllissentacleanhittoright,scoringbothCarlandManning。Ibreathedeasier,foritseemedwiththosetworunnersin,theRubehadabetterchance。Treadwellalsotookthosetworunnersin,theRubehadawaythoseBisonswaited。Theyhadtheirreward,fortheRube’sspeedlefthim。Whenhepitchedagaintheballhadcontrol,butnoshoot。Treadwellhititwithallhisstrength。LikeahugecatAshwellpounceduponit,ranoversecondbase,forcingEllis,andhisspeedysnaptofirstalmostcaughtTreadwell。
  Score8to7。Twoout。Runneronfirst。Oneruntotie。
  Inmyhazy,dimmedvisionIsawtheRube’spennantwavingfromtheflag—pole。
  ``It’sourgame!’’howledSpearsinmyear,forthenoisefromthestandswasdeafening。
  ``It’sourpennant!’’
  TheformidablebattingstrengthoftheBisonshadbeenmet,notwithoutdisaster,butwithoutdefeat。McKnightcameupforBuffaloandtheRubetookhiswearyswing。ThebattermadeaterrificlungeandhittheballwithasolidcrackItlinedforcenter。
  Suddenlyelectrifiedintoaction,Ileapedup。
  Thathit!Itfrozemewithhorror。Itwasahome—run。IsawStringerflytowardleftcenter。
  Heranlikesomethingwild。IsawtheheavyTreadwelllumberingroundthebases。IsawAshwellrunoutintocenterfield。
  ``Ah—h!’’Thewholeaudiencerelieveditsterrorinthatexpulsionofsuspendedbreath。
  Stringerhadleapedhightoknockdowntheball,savingasurehome—runandthegame。Herecoveredhimself,dashedbackfortheballandshotittoAsh。
  WhenAshturnedtowardtheplate,Treadwellwasroundingthirdbase。Atiescoreappearedinevitable。IsawAsh’sarmwhipandtheballshootforward,leveled,glancing,beautifulinitsflight。Thecrowdsawit,andthesilencebroketoayellthatroseandroseastheballspedin。
  Thatyellswelledtoasplittingshriek,andTreadwellslidinthedust,andtheballshotintoGregg’shandsallatthesameinstant。
  Carterwavedbotharmsupwards。Itwastheumpire’sactionwhenhisdecisionwentagainstthebase—runner。Theaudiencerolleduponegreatstenoriancry。
  ``Out!’’
  Icollapsedandsankbackuponthebench。Myconfusedsensesreceivedadullroarofpoundingfeetanddinningvoicesastheheraldofvictory。
  IfeltmyselfthinkinghowpleasedMillywouldbe。
  Ihadadistinctpictureinmymindofawhitecottageonahill,nolongeradream,butareality,madepossibleformebytheRube’swinningofthepennant,THERUBE’SHONEYMOON
  ``He’sgotanewmanager。Watchhimpitchnow!’’ThatwaswhatNanBrownsaidtomeaboutRubeHurtle,mygreatpitcher,andItookitasherwayofannouncingherengagement。
  Mybaseballcareerheldsomeproudmoments,butthisone,whereinIrealizedthesuccessofmymatchmakingplans,wascertainlytheproudestone。So,entirelyoutsideofthehonestpleasureIgotoutoftheRube’shappiness,therewasreasonformetocongratulatemyself。Hewasatransformedman,soabsolutelyrenewed,sowildwithjoy,thatonthestrengthofit,IdecidedthepennantforWorcesterwasaforegoneconclusion,and,sureofthemoneypromisedmebythedirectors,MillyandIbegantomakeplansforthecottageuponthehill。
  TheRubeinsistedonpitchingMonday’sgameagainsttheTorontos,andalthoughpoorfieldinggavethemacoupleofruns,theyneverhadachance。Theycouldnotseetheball。TheRubewrappeditaroundtheirnecksandbetweentheirwristsandstraightovertheplatewithsuchincrediblespeedthattheymightjustaswellhavetriedtobatriflebullets。
  ThatnightIwashappy。Spears,myveterancaptain,wasonehugesmile;Radbournequietlyassuredmethatallwasovernowbuttheshouting;
  alltheboyswerehappy。
  AndtheRubewasthehappiestofall。Atthehotelheburstoutwithhisexceedinggoodfortune。HeandNanweretobemarriedupontheFourthofJuly!
  AfterthenoisycongratulationswereoverandtheRubehadgone,SpearslookedatmeandI
  lookedathim。
  ``Con,’’saidhesoberly,``wejustcan’tlethimgetmarriedontheFourth。’’
  ``Whynot?Surewecan。We’llhelphimgetmarried。Itellyouit’llsavethepennantforus。
  Lookhowhepitchedtoday!NanBrownisoursalvation!’’
  ``Seehere,Con,you’vegotsoftenin’ofthebrain,too。Where’syourbaseballsense?We’vegotapennanttowin。ByJulyFourthwe’llbeclosetotheleadagain,an’there’sthatthreeweeks’tripontheroad,thelongestan’hardestoftheseason。We’vejustgottobreakevenonthattrip。Youknowwhatthatmeans。IftheRubemarriesNan——whatarewegoin’todo?Wecan’tleavehimbehind。IfhetakesNanwithus——whyit’llbeahoneymoon!An’halfthegangisstuckonNanBrown!An’NanBrownwouldflirtinherbridalveil!……WhyCon,we’reupagainstaworsepropositionthanever。’’
  ``GoodHeavens!Cap。You’reright,’’I
  groaned。``Ineverthoughtofthat。We’vegottopostponethewedding……Howonearthcanwe?I’veheardhertellMillythat。She’llneverconsenttoit。Say,this’lldrivemetodrink。’’
  ``AllIgottosayisthis,Con。IftheRubetakeshiswifeonthattripit’sgoin’tobeanall—
  firedhummer。Don’tyouforgetthat。’’
  ``I’mnotlikelyto。But,Spears,thepointisthis——willtheRubewinhisgames?’’
  ``Figurin’fromhisworktoday,I’dgamblehe’llneverloseanothergame。Itain’tthat。I’mthinkin’ofwhatthegangwilldotohiman’Nanonthecarsan’atthehotels。Oh!Lord,Con,itain’tpossibletostandforthathoneymoontrip!
  Justthink!’’
  ``Iftheworstcomestotheworst,Cap,Idon’tcareforanythingbutthegames。IfwegetintheleadandstaythereI’llstandforanything……
  Couldn’tthegangbecoaxedorboughtofftolettheRubeandNanalone?’’
  ``Notonyourlife!Thereain’tenoughloveormoneyonearthtostopthem。It’llbeawful。
  Mind,I’mnotresponsible。Don’tyougoholdin’
  meresponsible。InallmyyearsofbaseballI
  neverwentonatripwithabrideinthegame。
  That’snewonme,an’Ineverheardofit。I’dbebadenoughifhewasn’tarubean’ifshewasn’tacrazygirl—fanan’aflirttoboot,an’withhalftheboysinlovewithher,butasitis————’’
  Spearsgaveupand,gravelyshakinghishead,heleftme。Ispentalittlewhileinsoberreflection,andfinallycametotheconclusionthat,inmydesperateambitiontowinthepennant,Iwouldhavetakenhalfadozenrubepitchersandtheirbaseball—madebridesonthetrip,ifbysodoingIcouldincreasethepercentageofgameswon。
  Nevertheless,IwantedtopostponetheRube’sweddingifitwaspossible,andIwentouttoseeMillyandaskedhertohelpus。ButforonceinherlifeMillyturnedtraitor。
  ``Connie,youdon’twanttopostponeit。Why,howperfectlylovely!……Mrs。StringerwillgoonthattripandMrs。Bogart……Connie,I’mgoingtoo!’’
  Sheactuallyjumpedupanddowninglee。Thatwasthewomaninher。Ittakesaweddingtogetawoman。Iremonstratedandpleadedandcommanded,alltonopurpose。Millyintendedtogoonthattriptoseethegames,andthefun,andthehoneymoon。
  ShecoaxedsohardthatIyielded。ThereuponshecalledupMrs。Stringeronthetelephone,andofcoursefoundthatyoungwomanjustaseagerasshewas。Formypart,Ithrewanxietyandcaretothefourwinds,anddecidedtobeashappyasanyofthem。Thepennantwasmine!Somethingkeptringingthatinmyears。WiththeRubeworkinghisironarmfortheedificationofhisproudNancyBrown,therewasextremelikelihoodofdiversshut—outsandhumiliatingdefeatsforsomeEasternLeagueteams。
  HowwellIcalculatedbecameamatterofbaseballhistoryduringthatlastweekofJune。Wewonsixstraightgames,threeofwhichfelltotheRube’scredit。Hisopponentsscoredfourrunsinthethreegames,againstthenineteenwemade。
  UponJuly1,RadbournebeatProvidenceandCairnswonthesecondgame。Wenowhadastringofeightvictories。Sundaywerested,andMondaywastheFourth,withmorningandafternoongameswithBuffalo。
  UponthemorningoftheFourth,IlookedfortheRubeatthehotel,butcouldnotfindhim。Hedidnotshowupatthegroundswhentheotherboysdid,andIbegantoworry。ItwastheRube’sturntopitchandwewereneckandneckwithBuffaloforfirstplace。Ifwewonbothgameswewouldgoaheadofourrivals。SoIwasallonedge,andkeptgoingtothedressing—roomtoseeiftheRubehadarrived。Hecame,finally,whenalltheboysweredressed,andabouttogooutforpractice。Hehadonanewsuit,atailor—madesuitatthat,andhelookedfine。Therewasabouthimakindofstrangeradiance。Hestatedsimplythathehadarrivedlatebecausehehadjustbeenmarried。Beforecongratulationswereoutofourmouths,heturnedtome。
  ``Con,Iwanttopitchbothgamestoday,’’hesaid。
  ``What!Say,Whit,Buffaloisonthecardtodayandweareonlythreepointsbehindthem。
  Ifwewinbothwe’llbeleadingtheleagueoncemore。Idon’tknowaboutpitchingyoubothgames。’’
  ``Ireckonwe’llbeintheleadtonightthen,’’
  hereplied,``forI’llwinthemboth。’’
  IwasabouttoreplywhenDave,theground—
  keeper,calledmetothedoor,sayingtherewasamantoseeme。Iwentout,andtherestoodMorrisey,manageroftheChicagoAmericanLeagueteam。Wekneweachotherwellandexchangedgreetings。
  ``Con,Idroppedofftoseeyouaboutthisnewpitcherofyours,theonetheycalltheRube。I
  wanttoseehimwork。I’veheardhe’sprettyfast。Howaboutit?’’
  ``Wait——tillyouseehimpitch,’’Ireplied。I
  couldscarcelygetthatmuchout,forMorrisey’spresencemeantagreatdealandIdidnotwanttobetraymyelation。
  ``Anystringsonhim?’’queriedthebigleaguemanager,sharply。
  ``Well,Morrisey,notexactly。Icangiveyouthefirstcall。You’llhavetobidhigh,though。
  Justwaittillyouseehimwork。’’
  ``I’mgladtohearthat。Myscoutwasoverherewatchinghimpitchandsayshe’sawonder。’’
  WhatluckitwasthatMorriseyshouldhavecomeuponthisday!Icouldhardlycontainmyself。
  AlmostIbegantospendthemoneyIwouldgetforsellingtheRubetothebigleaguemanager。
  Wetookseatsinthegrandstand,asMorriseydidnotwanttobeseenbyanyplayers,andIstayedtherewithhimuntilthegongsounded。
  Therewasabigattendance。IlookedalloverthestandforNan,butshewaslostinthegaycrowd。ButwhenIwentdowntothebenchI
  sawherupinmyprivateboxwithMilly。IttooknosecondglancetoseethatNanBrownwasabrideandgloryinginthefact。
  Then,intheabsorptionofthegame,IbecameoblivioustoMillyandNan;thenoisycrowd;thegiantfire—crackersandthesmoke;tothepresenceofMorrisey;toallexcepttheRubeandmyteamandtheiropponents。Fortunatelyformyhopes,thegameopenedwithcharacteristicWorcesterdash。LittleMcCalldoubled,Ashwelldrewhisbaseonfourwidepitches,andStringerdrovetheballovertheright—fieldfence——threeruns!
  Threerunswereenoughtowinthatgame。OfalltheexhibitionsofpitchingwithwhichtheRubehadfavoredus,thisonewasthefinest。Itwasperhapsnotsomuchhismarvelousspeedandunhittablecurvesthatmadethegameonememorableintheannalsofpitching;itwashisperfectcontrolintheplacingofballs,inthecuttingofcorners;inhisabsoluteimplacablemasteryofthesituation。Buffalowasunabletofindhimatall。Thegamewasswiftshort,decisive,withthescore5to0inourfavor。ButthescoredidnottellalloftheRube’sworkthatmorning。HeshutoutBuffalowithoutahit,orascratch,thefirstno—hit,no—rungameoftheyear。Hegavenobaseonballs;notaBuffaloplayergottofirstbase;onlyoneflywenttotheoutfield。
  ForonceIforgotMillyafteragame,andI
  hurriedtofindMorrisey,andcarriedhimofftohavedinnerwithme。
  ``Yourrubeisawonder,andthat’safact,’’hesaidtomeseveraltimes。``Whereonearthdidyougethim?Connelly,he’smymeat。Doyouunderstand?Canyouletmehavehimrightnow?’’
  ``No,Morrisey,I’vegotthepennanttowinfirst。ThenI’llsellhim。’’
  ``Howmuch?Doyouhear?Howmuch?’’
  Morriseyhammeredthetablewithhisfistandhiseyesgleamed。
  CarriedawayasIwasbyhisvehemence,Iwasyetabletocalculateshrewdly,andIdecidedtonameaveryhighprice,fromwhichIcouldcomedownandstillmakeasplendiddeal。
  ``Howmuch?’’demandedMorrisey。
  ``Fivethousanddollars,’’Ireplied,andgulpedwhenIgotthewordsout。
  Morriseyneverbattedaneye。
  ``Waiter,quick,penandinkandpaper!’’
  Presentlymyhand,nonetoofirm,wassigningmynametoacontractwherebyIwastosellmypitcherforfivethousanddollarsatthecloseofthecurrentseason。IneversawamanlooksopleasedasMorriseywhenhefoldedthatcontractandputitinhispocket。Hebademegood—byeandhurriedofftocatchatrain,andheneverknewtheRubehadpitchedthegreatgameonhisweddingday。
  Thatafternoonbeforeacrowdthathadtoberopedoffthediamond,IputtheRubeagainsttheBisons。Howwellheshowedthebaseballknowledgehehadassimilated!Hechangedhisstyleinthatsecondgame。Heusedaslowballandwidecurvesandtookthingseasy。HemadeBuffalohittheballandwhenrunnersgotonbasesoncemoreletouthisspeedandheldthemdown。Hereliedupontheplayersbehindhimandtheywereequaltotheoccasion。
  Itwasatotallydifferentgamefromthatofthemorning,andperhapsonemoresuitedtothepleasureoftheaudience。Therewasplentyofhardhitting,sharpfieldingandgoodbaserunning,andthegamewascloseandexcitinguptotheeighth,whenMullaney’striplegaveustworuns,andaleadthatwasnotheaded。TothedeafeningroarofthebleacherstheRubewalkedoffthefield,havingpitchedWorcesterintofirstplaceinthepennantrace。