The Redheaded Outfield and Other Baseball Stories

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THE REDHEADED OUTFIELD

AND OTHER BASEBALL STORIES

This O

WDAP-P5D-H74T

THE

REDHEADED
OUTFIELD

AND

OTHER BASEBALL STORIES

BY

ZAlfE GREY

Author of

THE SHORT-STOP, WILDFUtC,
THE U. P. TRAIL, ETC.

■

GROSSET & DUNLAP

PUBLISHERS NEW YORK

Made id dw United Stem of Amencft

COPYMGHT, 1915, BY

McClube Newspaper Syndicao

Copyright, 1920, by

GSOSSET & DUNLAP

CONTENTS

PAGB

T&2 Redheaded Outfield 1

Thx Rube 25

Tbe Rube's Pennant 47

The Rube's Honeymoon 69

The Rube's Waterloo 93

Bbxaking Into Fast Company 115

The Knogejer 135

The Winnino Ball 159

False Colors 177

'fHE Manager of Madden's Hill 197

Ou> Weli^Well ..; 223

THE REDHEADED OUTFIELD

AND OTHER BASEBALL STORIES

THE REDHEADED OUTFIELD

There was Delaney's red-haired trio— Red Gil-
baty left fielder ; Beddy Clanuner, right fielder, and
Beddie Bay, center fielder, composing the most
remarkable ontfield ever developed in minor
leagae baseball. It was Delaney 's pride, as it was
also Ms tronble.

Bed Gilbat was nntty— and his batting average
was .371, Any stndent of baseball conld weigh
these two facts against each other and imderstand
something of Delaney's tronble. It was not pos-
sible to camp on Bed Gilbat 's trail. The man was
a jack-oMantem, a will-o'-the-wisp, a weird, long-
legged, long-armed, red-haired illnsive phantom.
When the gong rang at the ball gronnds there
were ten chances to one that Bed wonld not be
present. He had been discovered with small boys
peeping throngh knotholes at the vacant left field
he was snpposed to inhabit dnring play.

Of course what Bed did off the ball gronnds
was not 80 important as what he did on. And
there was absolutely no telling what under the sun

1

2 THE EEDHEADED OUTFIELD

he might do then except once ont of every three
times at bat he conld be counted on to knock the
cover oS the ball.

Eeddy Clammer was a grand-stand player— the
kind all managers hated — ^and he was hitting .305.
He made circus catches, circus stops, circus
throws, circus steals — ^but particularly circus
catches. That is to say, he made easy plays ap-
pear difficult. He was always strutting, posing,
talking, arguing, quarreling— when he was not
engaged in making a grand-stand play. Eeddy
Clammer used every possible incident and artifice
to bring himself into the limelight.

Eeddie Eay had been the intercollegiate cham-
pion in the sprints and a famous college ball
player. After {i few months of professional ball
he was hitting over .400 and leading the league
both at bat and on the bases. It was a beautiful
and a thrilling sight to see him run. He was so
quick to start, so marvelously swift, so keen of
judgment, that neither Delaney nor any player
could ever tell the hit that he was not going to
get. That was why Eeddie Eay was a whole game
in himself.

Delaney 's Eochester Stars and the Providence
Grays were tied for first place. Of the present
series each team had won a game. Eivalry had
always been keen, and as the 'teams were about
to enter the long homestretch for the pennant
there was battle in the New England air.

THE EEDHEADED OUTFIELD 3

The September day was perfect The stands
were half full and the bleachers packed with a
white-sleeved mass. And the field was beautifully
level and green. The Grays were practicing and
the Stars were on their bench.

"We're np against it,*' Delaney was saying.
"This new umpire, Fuller, hasnH got it in for us.
Oh, no, not at all! Believe me, he's a robber.
But Scott is pitchin' well. Won his last three
games. Hell bother 'em. And the three Reds
have broken loose. They're on the rampage.
They 11 bum up this place today."

Somebody noted the absence of Gilbat.

Delaney gave a sudden start. "Why, Gil was
here," he said slowly. "Lord I — ^he's about due
for a nutty stunt"

Whereupon Delaney sent boys and players
scurrying about to find Gilbat, and Delaney went
himself to ask the Providence manager to hold
back the gong for a few minutes.

Presently somebody brought Delaney a tele-
phone message that Bed Gilbat was playing ball
with some boys in a lot four blocks down the
street When at length a couple of players
marched up to the bench with Red in tow Delaney
uttered an iimnense sigh of relief and then, after
a close scrutiny of Red's face, he whispered,
"Lock the gates!"

Then the gong rang. The Grays trooped in.
The Stars ran out, except Gilbat, who ambled like

4 THE EEDHEADED OUTFIELD

a giraffe. The hum of conversation in the grand
stand quickened for a moment with the scraping
of chairs, and then grew qniet. The bleachers
sent np the rollicking cry of expectancy. The
nmpire threw out a white ball with his stentorian
**Play!'' and Blake of the Grays strode to the
plate.

Hitting safely, he started the game with a rash.
With Dorr np, the Star infield played for a bnnt
Like clockwork Dorr dnmped the first ball as
Blake got his flying start for second base. Morris-
sey tore in for the ball, got it on the run and
snapped it underhand to Healy, beating the
runner by an inch. The fast Blake, with a long
slide, made third base. The stands stamped. The
bleachers howled. White, next man up, batted a
high fly to left field. This was a sun field and
the hardest to play in the league. Eed Gilbat was
the only man who ever played it well. He judged
the fly, waited under it, took a step back, then
forward, and deliberately caught the ball in hirf
gloved hand. A throw-in to catch the runner scor-
ing from third base would have been futile, but
it was not like Eed Gilbat to fail to try. He tossed
the ball to O'Brien. And Blake scored amid
applause.

**What do you know about thatf ejaculated
Delaney, wiping his moist face. "I never be-
fore saw our nutty Bedhead pull off a play like
that.**

THE EEDHEADED OUTFIELD 5

Some of the players yelled at Bed, **Tliis is a
two-handed league, yon bat!''

The first five players on the list for the Grays
were left-handed batters, and against a right-
handed pitcher whose most effective ball for them
was a high fast one over the outer comer they
would naturally hit toward left field. It was no
surprise to see Hanley bat a skyscraper out to left.
Bed had to run to get under it. He braced him-
self rather unusually for a fielder. He tried to
catch the ball in his bare right hand and muffed it.
Hanley got to second on the play while the audi-
ence roared. When they got through there was
some roaring among the Bochester players. Scott
and Captain Healy roared at Bed, and Bed roared
back at them.

**It's all off. Bed never did that before,*' cried
Delaney in despair. **He's gone clean bughouse
now."

Babcock was the next man up and he likewise
hit to left. It was a low, twisting ball — ^half fly,
half liner — ^and a difficult one to field. Gilbat ran
with great bounds, and though he might have got
two hands on the ball he did not try, but this time
caught it in his right, retiring the side.

Tlie Stars trotted in, Scott and Healy and Kane,
all veterans, looking like thunderclouds. Bed
ambled in the last and he seemed very nonchalant.

**By Gosh, I'd 'a' ketched that one I muffed
if I'd had time to change hands," he said with a

6 THE REDHEADED OUTFIELD

grin, and he exposed a handful of peanuts. He
had refused to drop the peanuts to make the
catch with two hands. That explained the mys-
tery. It was funny, yet nobody laughed. There
was that ran chalked np against the Stars, and
this game had to be won.

^*Red, I — ^I want to take the team home in the
lead, ' ' said Delaney, and it was plain that he sup-
pressed strong feeling. **Toii didn't play the
game, yon know.'*

Bed appeared mightily ashamed.

**Del, ni git that run back," he said.

Then he strode to the plate, swinging his wagon-
tongue bat. For all his awkward position in the
box he looked what he was — a formidable hitter.
He seemed to tower over the pitcher — ^Red was
six feet one — ^and he scowled and shook his bat*
at Wehying and called, "Put one over— yon
Wienerwurst!" Wehying was anything but red-
headed, and he wasted so many balls on Red that
it looked as if he might pass him. He would have
passed him, too, if Red had not stepped over on
the fourth ball and swung on it. White at second
base leaped high for the stinging hit, and failed
to reach it. The ball struck and bounded for the
fence. When Babcock fielded it in. Red was stand-
ing on third base, and the bleachers groaned.

Whereupon Chesty Reddy Clammer proceeded
to draw attention to himself, and incidentally de-
lay the game, by assorting the bats as if the audi-

THE REDHEADED OUTFIELD 7

once and the game might gladly wait years to see
him make a choice.

**Git in the game!** yelled Delaney.

"Aw, take my bat, Duke of the Abmbsky I*^ sar-
castically said Dump Kane. When the grouchy^
Kane offered to lend his bat matters were critical
in the Star camp.

Other retorts followed, which Reddy Clammer
deigned not to notice. At last he got a bat that
snited him — and then, importantly, dramatically,
with his cap jauntily riding his red locks, he
marched to the plate.

Some wag in the bleachers yelled into the
silence, "Oh, Maggie, yonr lover has come!*'

Not improbably Clammer was thinking first of
his presence before the multitude, secondly of his
batting average and thirdly of the run to be
scored. In this instance he waited and feinted at
balls and fouled strikes at length to work his base.
When he got to first base suddenly he bolted for
second, and in the surprise of the unlooked-for
play he made it by a spread-eagle slide. It was a
circus steal.

Delaney snorted. Then the look of profound
disgust vanished in a flash of light. His huge face
beamed.

Beddie Bay was striding to the plate.

There was something about Beddie Bay that
pleased all the senses. His lithe form seemed in-
stinct with life; any sudden movement was sug-

8 THE EEDHEADED OUTFIELD

gestive of stored lightning. His position at the
plate was on the left side, and he stood perfectly
motionless, with just a hint of tense waiting alert-
ness. Dorr, Bla^e and Babcock, the outfielders
for the Grays, trotted round to the right of their
usual position. Delaney smiled derisively, as if
he knew how futile it was to tell what field Beddie
Bay might hit into. Wehying, the old fox, warily
eyed the youngster, and tiirew him a high curve,
close in. It grazed Eeddie's shirt, but he never
moved a hair. Then Wehying, after the manner
of many veteran pitchers when trying out a new
and menacing batter, drove a straight fast ball at
Eeddie's head. Beddie ducked, neither too slow
nor too quick, just right to show what an eye he
had, how hard it was to pitch to. The next was
a strike. And on the next he appeared to step
and swing in one action. There was a ringing
rap, and the ball shot toward right, curving down,
a vicious, headed hit. Mallory, at first base,
snatched at it and found only the air. Babcodc
had only time to take a few sharp steps, and then
he plunged down, blocked the hit and fought the
twisting ball. Beddie turned first base, flitted on
toward second, went headlong in the dust, and
shot to the base before White got the throw-in
from Babcock. Then, as White wheeled and lined
the ball home to catch the scoring Clammer,
Beddie Bay leaped up, got his sprinter's start
and, like a rocket, was off for third. This time

THE REDHEADED OUTFIELD 9

he dove behind the base, sliding in a half circle^
and as Hanley caught Strickland's i>erfect throw
and whirled with the ball, Beddie's hand slid to
the bag.

Beddie got to his feet amid a rather breathless
silence. Even the coachers were qniet. There
was a moment of relaxation, then Wehying re-
ceived the baU from Hanley and faced the
batter.

This was Dnmp Kane. There was a sign of
fiome kind, almost imperceptible, between Kane
and Beddie. As Wehying half tamed in his swing
to pitch, Beddie Bay bounded homeward. It was
not so much the boldness of his action as the
amazing swiftness of it that held the audience
spellboxmd. Like a thunderbolt Beddie came
down the line, almost beating Wehying 's pitch to
the plate. But Kane's bat intercepted the ball,
laying it down, and Beddie scored without sliding.
Dorr, by sharp work, just managed to throw E[ane
out

Three runs so quick it was hard to tell how they
had come. Not in the major league could there
have been faster work. And the ball had been
fielded perfectly and thrown perfectly.

** There you are," said Delaney, hoarsely.
"Can you beat itt If you've been wonderin' how
the cripped Stars won so many games just put
what you've seen in your pipe and smoke it Bed
Gilbat gets on — ^Beddy Clammer gets on — ^and

10 THE REDHEADED OUTFIELD

then Beddie Bay drives them home or chases them
home/*

The game went on, and though it did not exactly
drag it slowed down considerably. Morrissey and
Healy were retired on infield plays. And the sides
changed. For the Grays, 'Brien made a scratdJ
hit, went to second on Strickland's sacrifice, stole
third and scored on Mallory's infield ont. Weh-
ying missed three strikes. In the Stars ' turn the

three end players on the batting list were easily
disposed of. In the third inning the clever Blake,

aided by a base on balls and a hit following, tied
the score, and once more struck fire and brimstone
from the impatient bleachers. Providence was a
town that had to have its team win.

**Git at 'em, Beds!'' said Delaney gruffly.

** Batter up!'' called Umpire Fuller, sharply.

** Where's Bedt Where's the bugt Where's
the nut! Delaney, did you lock the gates t Look
under the bench !" These and other remarks, not
exactly elegant, attested to the mental processes
of some of the Stars. Bed Gilbat did not appeal;
to be forthcoming. There was an anxious delay.
Capt. Healy searched for the missing player. De-
laney did not say any more.

Suddenly a door under the grand stand opened
and Bed Gilbat appeared. He hurried for his bat
and then up to the plate. And he never offered
to hit one of the balls Wehying shot over. Whed

THE REDHEADED OUTFIELD 11

I

Fuller had called the third strike Bed hurried
back to the door and disappeared.

^^Somethin' doin'/' whispered Delaney.

Lord Chesterfield Clammer paraded to the
batter's box and, after gradually surveying the
field, as if picking out the exact place he meant to
drive the ball, he stepped to the plate. Then a
roar from the bleachers surprised him.

**Well, ni be dog-goned!'* exclaimed Delaney.
"Bed stole that sure as shootin^''

Bed Gilbat was pushing a brand-new baby car-
riage toward the batter's box. There was a titter-
ing in the grand stand; another roar from the
bleachers. Clammer 's face turned as red as his
hair. Gilbat shoved the baby carriage upon the
plate, spread wide his long arms, made a short
presentation speech and an elaborate bow, then
backed away.

All eyes were centered on Clammer. If he had
taken it right the incident might have passed with-
out undue hilarity. But Clammer became abso-
lutely wild with rage. It was well known that
he was unmarried. Equally well was it seen that
Gilbat had executed one of his famous tricks.
Ball players were inclined to be dignified about
the presentation of gifts upon the field, and
Clammer, the dude, the swell, the lady's man, the
favorite of the baseball gods — ^in his own estima-
tion — so far lost control of himself that he threw
his bat at his retreating tormentor. Bed jumped

12 THE EEDHEADED OUTFIELD

high and the bat skipped along the ground toward
the bench. The players sidestepped and leaped
and, of conrse, the bat cracked one of Delaney's
big shins. His eyes popped with pain, bnt he
conld not stop laughing. One by one the players
lay down and rolled over and yelled. The su-
perior Clammer was not overliked by his co-
players.

From the grand stand floated the laughter of
ladies and gentlemen. And from the bleachers —
that throne of the biting, ironic, scornful fans —
pealed up a howl of delight. It lasted for a fuU
minute. Then, as quiet ensued, some boy blew a
blast of one of those infernal little instruments of
pipe and rubber balloon, and over the field wailed
out a shrill, high-keyed cry, an excellent imitation
of a baby. Whereux)on the whole audience roared,
and in discomfiture Eeddy Clammer went in
search of his bat.

To make his chagrin all the worse he inglori-
ously struck out. And then he strode away under
the lea of the grand-stand wall toward right field.

Beddie Bay went to bat and, with the infield
playing deep and the outfield swung still farther
round to the right, he bunted a little teasing ball
down the third-base line. Like a flash of light
he had crossed first base before Hanley got his
hands on the ball. Then Kane hit into second
base, forcing Beddie out.

Again the game assumed less spectacular and

THE EEDHEADED OUTFIELD 13

more ordinary play. Both Scott and Wehying
held the batters safely and allowed no runs. But
in the fifth inning, with the Stars at bat and two
out, Bed Gilbat again electrified the field. He
sprang up from somewhere and walked to the
plate, his long shape enfolded in a full-length linen
duster. The color and style of this garment
might not have been especially strikingy but upon
Bed it had a weird and wonderful effect. Evi-
dently Bed intended to bat while arrayed in his
long coat, for he stepped into the box and faced
the pitcher. Capt. Healy yelled for him to take
the duster off. Likewise did the Grays yell.

The bleachers shrieked their disapproval. To
say the least, Bed Gilbat 's crazy assurance was
dampening to the ardor of the most blindly con-
fident fans. At length Umpire Fuller waved his
hand, enjoining silence and calling time.

**Take it off or I'll fine you."

From his lofty height GUbat gazed down upon
the little imipire, and it was plain what he thought*

"What do I care for money!" replied Bedt

"That costs you twenty-five," said Fuller.

"Cigarette change!" yelled Bed.

"Costs you fifty."

"Bah! Go to an eye doctor," roared Bed.

"Seventy-five," added Fuller, imperturbably.

"Make it a hundred!"

"It's two hundred."

"JJo6.6-6cr/" bawled Bed.

14 THE EEDHEADED OUTFIELD

Fuller showed willingness to overlook Red's
back talk as well as costume, and he called,
**PlayI''

There was a mounting sensation of prophetic
certainty. Old fox "Wehying appeared nervous.
He wasted two balls on Bed ; then he put one over
the plate, and then he wasted another. Three
balls and one strike I That was a bad place for a
pitcher, and with Bed Gilbat up it was worse.
Wehying swung longer and harder to get all his
left behind the throw and let drive. Bed lunged
and cracked the ball. It went up and up and kept
going up and farther out, and as the murmuring
audience was slowly transfixed into late realiza-
tion the ball soared to its height and dropped
beyond the left-field fence. A home run I

Bed Gilbat gathered up the tails of his duster,
after the manner of a neat woman crossing a
muddy street, and ambled down to first base and
on to second, making prodigious jumps upon the
bags, and round third, to come down the home*
stretch wagging his red head. Then he stood on
the plate, and, as if to exact revenge from the
audience for the fun they made of him, he threw
back his shoulders and bellowed: ^^Haw! Haw!
Hawl''

Not a handclap greeted him, but some mindless,
exceedingly adventurous fan yelled: '^Bedhead I
Bedhead! Bedhead!"

That was the one thing calculated to rouse Bed

THE REDHEADED OUTFIELD 15

Oilbat. He seemed to flare, to bristle, and he
paced for the bleachers.
Delaney looked as if he might have a stroke.

"Grab him! Soak him with a batl Somebody
grab him!^'

But none of the Stars was risking so much, and
Oilbaty to the howling derision of the gleeful fans,
reached the bleachers. He stretched his long
arms np to the fence and prepared to vault over.
"Where's the guy who called me redhead?'^ he
yelled.

That was heaping fuel on the fire. From all
over the bleachers, from everywhere, came the ob-
noxious word. Eed heaved himself over the
fence and piled into the fans. Then followed the
roar of many voices, the tramping of many feet,
the pressing forward of line after line of shirt-
sleeved men and boys. That bleacher stand sud-
denly assumed the maelstrom appearance of a
surging mob round an agitated center. In a mo-
ment all the players rushed down the field, and
confusion reigned.

''Oh! Oh! Ohl^' moaned Delaney.

However, the game had to go on. Delaney, no
doubt, felt all was over. Nevertheless there were
games occasionally that seemed an unending
series of unprecedented events. This one had be-
gun admirably to break a record. And the Provi-
dence fans, like all other fans, had cultivated an
appetite as the game proceeded. They were wild

16 THE EEDHEADED OUTFIELD

io put the other redheads out of the field or at
least ont for the inning, wild to tie the score, wild
to win and wilder than all for more excitement.
Clammer hit safely. But when Beddie Bay lined
to the second baseman, Clammer, having taken a
lead, was doubled np in the play.

Of course, the sixth inning opened with the
Stars playing only eight men. There was another
delay. Probably everybody except Delaney and
perhaps Healy had forgotten the Stars were short
a man. Fuller called time. The impatient bleach-
ers barked for action.

Capt. White came over to Delaney and courte-
ously offered to lend a player for ihe renwining
innings. Then a pompous individual came out of
the door leading from the press boxes— -he was
a director Delaney disliked.

"Guess you'd better let Fuller caU the game/'
he said brusquely.

**If you want to — ^as the score stands now in
our favor," replied Delaney.

**Not on your life I ItTl be ours or else weTl
play it out and beat you to death."

He departed in high dudgeon.

"TeU Beddie to swing over a little toward
left," was Delaney 's order to Healy. Firo
gleamed in the manager's eye.

Fuller called play then, with Beddy Clammer
and Beddie Bay comi)osing the Star outfield. And
the Grays evidently prepared to do great execcv*

THE REDHEADED OUTFIELD 17

tion fhrongh the wide lanes thus opened up. At
that stage it would not have been like matured
ball players to try to crop hits down into the
infield.

White sent a long fly back of Clammer. Beddy
had no time to loaf on this hit. It was all he conld
do to reach it and he made a splendid catch, for
which the crowd ronndly applauded him. That
applause was wine to Beddy Clammer. He began
to prance on his toes and sing out to Scott : '^Make
'em hit to me, old man! Make 'em hit to met"
Whether Scott desired that or not was scarcely
possible to say; at any rate, Hanley pounded a
hit through the infield. And Clammer, prancing
high in the air like a check-reined horse, ran to
intercept the ball. He could have received it in
his hands, but that would never have served
Beddy Clammer. He timed the hit to a nicety,
went down with his old grand-stand play and
blocked the ball with his anatomy. Delaney
swore. And the bleachers, now warm toward the
gallant outfielder, lustily cheered him. Babcock
hit down the right-field foul line, giving Clammer
a long run. Hanley was scoring and Babcock was
sprinting for third base when Beddy got the balL
He had a fine arm and he made a hard and accu-
rate throw, catching his man in a close play.

Perhaps even Delaney could not have found any
fault with that play. But the aftermath spoiled
the thing. Clammer now rode the air; he soared;

18 THE REDHEADED OUTFIELD

he was in the clouds ; it was his inning and he had
utterly forgotten his team mates, except inasmuch
as they were performing mere little auton:iatio
movements to direct the great machinery in his
direction for his sole achievement and glory.

There is fate in baseball as well as in other
walks of life. 'Brien was a strapping fellow and
he lifted another ball into Clammer's wide terri-
tory. The hit was of the l^igh and far-away
variety. Clammer started to run with it, not like
a grim outfielder, but like one thinking of him-
self, his style, his opportunity, his inevitable suc-
cess. Certain it was that in thinking of himself
the outfielder forgot his surroundings. He ran
across the foul line, head up, hair flying, unheed-
ing the warning cry from Healy. And, reaching
up to make his crowning circus play, he smashed
face forward into the bleachers fence. Then,
limp as a rag, he dropped. The audience sent
forth a long groan of sympathy.

^^That wasn't one of his stage falls," said De-
laney. **I'll bet he's dead. . . . Poor Beddyl
And I want him to bust his face!''

Clammer was carried off the field into the dress-
ing room and a physician was sxmunoned out of
the audience.

*'Cap., what'd it — do to himf asked Delaney.

"Aw, spoiled his pretty mug, that's all," re-
plied Healy, scornfully. "Mebee hell listen to
me now."

THE REDHEADED OUTFIELD 19

Delaney's change was characteristic of the man.
"Well, if it didn't kill him I'm blamed glad he got
it. . . • Cap, we can trim 'em yet. Reddie Ray 11
play the whole outfield. Give Reddie a chance to
nm f Tell the boy to cnt loose. And all of yon git
in the game. Win or lose, I won't forget it. I've
a hnnch. Once in a while I can tell what's comin'
off. Some queer game this I And we're goin' to
win. Gilbat lost the game; Clammer throwed it
away again, and now Reddie Ray's due to win
it. . . . I'm all in, but I wouldn't miss the finish
to save my life."

Delaney's deep presaging sense of baseball
events was never put to a greater test. And the
seven Stars, with the score tied, exhibited the
temper and timber of a championship team in the
last ditch. It was so splendid that almost in-
stantly it caught the antagonistic bleachers.

Wherever the tired Scott found renewed
strength and speed was a mystery. But he struck
out the hard-hitting Providence catcher and that
made the third out. The Stars could not score in
their half of the inning. Likewise the seventh
inning jmssed without a run for either side ; only
the infield work of the Stars was something
superb. When the eighth inning ended, without a
tally for either team, the excitement grew tense.
There was Reddy Ray pla3ring outfield alone, and
the Grays with all their desperate endeavors had
not lifted the ball out of the infield.

20 THE BEDHEADED OUTFIELD

But in the ninth, Blake, the first man up, lined
low toward right center. The hit was safe and
looked good for three hases. No one looking, how-
ever, had calculated on Beddie's Bay's fleetness.
He covered ground and dove for tiiie bounding
ball and knocked it down. Blake did not get be-
yond first base. The crowd cheered the play
equally With the prospect of a run. Dorr bunted
and beat the throw. White hit one of the high
fast balls Scott was serving and sent it close to
the left-field foul line. The running Beddie Bay
made on that play held White at second base. But
two runs had scored with no one out.

Hanley, the fourth left-handed hitter, came up
and Scott pitched to him as he had to the others
— high fast balls over the inside comer of the
plate. Beddy Bay's position was some fifty yards
behind deep short, and a little toward center field.
He stood sideways, facing two-thirds of that
vacant outfield. In spite of Scott's skill, Hanley
swung the ball far round into right field, but he
hit it high, and almost before he actually hit it the
great sprinter was speeding across the green.

The suspence grew almost unbearable as the
ball soared in its parabolic flight and the red-
haired runner streaked dark across the green.
The ball seemed never to be coming down. And
when it began to descend and reached a point per-
haps fifty feet above the ground there appeared
more distance between where it would alight and

THE REDHEADED OUTFIELD 21

where Beddie was than anything human conld
cover. It dropped and dropped, and then dropped
into Beddie Ray's outstretched hands. He had
made the catch look easy. Bnt the fact that White
scored from second hase on the play showed what
the catch really was.

There was no movement or restlessness of the
audience such as usually indicated the beginning
of the exodus. Scott struck Babcock out. The
game still had fire. The Grays never let up a
moment on their coaching. And the hoarse voices
of the Stars were grimmer than ever. Beddie
Ray was the only one of the seven who kept silent
And he crouched like a tiger.

The teams changed sides with the Grays three
runs in the lead. Morrissey, for the Stars, opened
with a clean drive to right. Then Healy slashed a
ground ball to Hanley and nearly knocked him
down. When old Bums, by a hard rap to short,
advanced the runners a base and made a desper-
ate, though unsuccessful, effort to reach first the
Providence crowd awoke to a strange and inspir-
ing appreciation. They began that most rare
f eatui:e in baseball audiences — a strong and tren-
chant call for the visiting team to win.

The play had gone fast and furious. Wehying,
sweaty and disheveled, worked violently. All the
Grays were on uneasy tiptoes. And the Stars
were seven Indians on the warpath. Halloran
fouled down the right-field line; then he fouled

22 THE REDHEADED OUTFIELD

over the left-field fence. Wehying tried to make
him too anxionSy but it was in vain. Halloran was
implacable. With two strikes and three balls he
hit straight down to white, and was out. Th6
ball had been so sharp that neither runner on base
had a chance to advance.

Two men out, two on base. Stars wanting three
runs to tie, Scott, a weak batter, at the plate t
The situation was disheartening. Yet there sat
Delaney, shot through and through with some
vital compelling force. He saw only victory. And
when the very first ball pitched to Scott hit him
on the leg, giving him his base, Delaney got to his
feet, unsteady and hoarse.

Bases full, Beddie Bay up, three runs to tie I

Delaney looked at Beddie. And Beddie looked
at Delaney. The manager's face was pale, intent,
with a little smile. The player had eyes of fire,
a lean, bulging jaw and the hands he reached for
his bat clutched like talons.

** Beddie, I knew it was waitin' for you,*' said
Delaney, his voice ringing. ** Break up the
game I''

After all this was only a baseball game, and per-
haps from the fans* viewpoint a poor game at
that. But the moment when that lithe, redhaired
athlete toed the plate was a beautiful one. The
long crash from the bleachers, the steady cheer
from the grand stand, proved that it was not so
much the game that mattered.

THE REDHEADED OUTFIELD 23

Wehying had shot his bolt ; he was tired Yet
he made ready for a final effort. It seemed that
passing Beddie Bay on balls wonld have been a
wise play at that juncture. But no pitcher, prob-
ably, would have done it with the bases crowded
and chances, of course, against the batter.

Clean and swift, Beddie leaped at the first
pitched ball. Ping I For a second no one saw the
hit. Then it gleamed, a terrific drive, low along
the ground, like a bounding bullet, straight at Bab-
cock in right field. It struck his hands and
glanced viciously away to roll toward the fence.

Thunder broke loose from the stands. Beddie
Ray was turning first base. Beyond first base he
got into his wonderful stride. Some runners run
with a consistent speed, the best they can make
for a given distance. But this trained sprinter
gathered speed as he ran. He was no short-step-
ping runner. His strides were long. They gave
an impression of strength combined with fleet-
ness. He had the speed of a race horse, but the
trimness, the raciness, the delicate legs were not
characteristic of him. Like the wind he turned
second, so powerful that his turn was short. All
at once there came a difference in his running. It
was no longer beautiful. The grace was gone. It
was now fierce, violent. His momentum was run-
ning him off his legs. He whirled around third
base and came hurtling down the homestretch.
His face was convulsed, his eyes were wild. His

24 THE REDHEADED OUTFIELD

arms and legs worked in a marvelons nmscnltf
velocity. He seemed a demon— a flying streak.
He overtook and ran down the laboring Scott, who
had almost reached the plate.

The park seemed fall of shrill, piercing strife.
It swelled, reached a highest pitch, sustained that
for a long moment, and then declined.

"My Gawd I" exclaimed Delaney, as he fell
back. ''Wasn't that a finish t Didn't I tell you
to watch them redheads!"

THE EXJBE

It was the most critical time I had yet ex-
perienced in my career as a baseball manager.
And there was more than the nsnal reason why
I mnst pnll the team ont. A chance for a busi-
ness deal depended npon the good-will of the
stockholders of the Worcester club. On the ont-
G^rts of the town was a little cottage that I
wanted to buy, and this depended npon the busi-
ness deaL My whole future happiness depended
upon the little girl I hoped to install in that cot-
tage.

Coming to the Worcester Eastern League team,
I had found a strong aggregation and an en-
thusiastic following. I really had a team with
pennant possibilities. Providence was a strong
rivaly but I beat them three straight in the open-
ing series, set a fast pace, and likewise set Wor-
cester baseball mad. The Eastern League clubs
were pretty evenly matched; still I continued to
hold the lead until misfortune overtook me^

25

26 THE EEDHEADED OUTFIELD

Gregg smashed an timpire and had to be laid
off. Mnllaney got spiked while sliding and was
ont of the game. Ashwell sprained his ankle and
Hirsch broke a finger. Badbonme, my great
pitcher, hnrt his arm on a cold day and he could
not get np his old speed. Stringer, who had
batted three hundred and seventy-one and led the
league the year before, struck a bad spell and
could not hit a barn door handed up to hiuL

Then came the slump. The team suddenly let
down ; went to pieces ; played ball that would have
disgraced an amateur nine. It was a trying time.
Here was a great team, strong everywhere. A
little hard luck had dug up a slump— and now!
Day by day the team dropped in the race. When
we reached the second division the newspapers
flayed us. Worcester would never stand for a
second division team. Baseball admirers, report-
ers, fans — especially the fans — are fickle. The
admirers quit, the reporters grilled us, and the
fans, though they stuck to the games with that
barnacle-like tenacity peculiar to them, made life
miserable for all of us. I saw the pennant slowly
fading, and the successful season, and the busi-
ness deal, and the cottage, and Milly

But when I thought of Eer I just could not see
failure. Something must be done, but what! I
was at the end of my wits. When Jersey City
beat us that Saturday, eleven to two, shoving us
down to fifth place with only a few percentage

THE RUBE 27

points above the Fall River team, I grew des-
perate, and locking my players in the dressing
room I went after them. They had lain down on
me and needed a jar. I told them so straight and
flat, and being bitter, I did not pick and choose
my words.

**And fellows," I concluded, "youVe got to
brace. A little more of this and we can't pull out.
I tell yon you're a championship team. We had
that pennant cinched. A few cuts and sprains
and hard luck — and you all quit I You lay down I
IVe been patient. IVe plugged for you. Never
a man have I fined or thrown down. But now I'm
at the end of my string. I'm out to fine you
now, and I'll release the first man who shows
the least yellow. I play no more substitutes.
Crippled or not, you guys have got to get in the
game."

I waited to catch my breath and expected some
such outburst as managers usually get from criti-
cized players. But not a word ! Then I addressed
some of them personally.

'* Gregg, your lay-off ends today. You play
Monday. MuUaney, you've drawn your salary
for two weeks with that spiked foot. If you can't
run on it — ^well, all right, but I put it up to your
good faith. I've played the game and I know
it's hard to run on a sore foot. But you can do it.
Ashwell, your ankle is lame, I know — ^now, can
you runt"

28 THE EEDHEADED OUTFIELD

((

Sure I can. I'm not a quitter. I'm ready to
go in,*' replied Ashwell.

"Eaddy, how about yonf I said, turning to
my star twirler.

''Connelly^ IVe seen as fast a team in as bad a
rut and yet pull out,'' returned Badboume.
^*We're about due for the brace. When it comes
— ^look out! As for me, well, my arm isn't right,
but it's acting these warm days in a way that tells
me it will be soon. It's been worked too hard.
Can'tiyou get another pitcher? I'm xiot knocking
Heme or Cairns. They're good for their turn,
but we need a new jnan to help out. And he must
be a crackerjack if we're to get back to the lead."

"Where on earth can I find such a pitcher?" I
sKouted, almost distracted.

"Well, that's up to you," replied Badboume.

Up to me it certainly was, and I cudgeled my
brains for inspiration. After I had given up in
hopelessness it came in the shape of a notice I
read in one of the papers. It was a brief men-
tion of an amateur Worcester ball team being shut
out in a game with a Bickettsville nine. Bicketts-
ville played Sunday ball, which gave me an oppor-
tunity to look them over.

It took some train riding and then a journey
by coach to get to Bickettsville. I mingled with
the crowd of talking rustics. There was only one
little "bleachers" and this was loaded to the
danger point with the feminine adherents of the

THE BUBB 29

teams. Most of the crowd centered alongside and
back of the catcher's box. I edged in and got a
position jnst behind the stone that served as home
plate.

Hunting np a player in this way was no new
thing to me. I was too wise to make myself
known before I had sized up the merits of my
man. So, before the players came npon the field
I amnsed myself watching the rustic fans and lis-
tening to them. Then a roar announced the ap-
pearance of the Bickettsville team and their
opponents, who wore the name of Spatsburg on
their Canton flannel shirts. The uniforms of these
country amateurs would have put a Philadelphia
Mummer's parade to the blush, at least for bright
colors. But after one amused glance I got down
to the stem business of the day, and that was to
discover a pitcher, and failing that, baseball talent
of any kind.

Never shall I forget my first glimpse of the
Bickettsville twirler. He was far over six feet
tall and as lean as a fence raiL He had a great
shock of light hair, a sunburned, sharp-featured
face, wide, sloping shoulders, and arms enor-
mously long. He was about as graceful and had
about as much of a baseball walk as a crippled cow.

''He's a rube I" I ejaculated, in disgust and
disappointment.

But when I had seen him throw one ball to his
catcher I grew as keen as a fox on a scent. What

30 THE EEDHEADED OUTFIELD

speed he had! I got round closer to him and
watched hini with sharp, eager eyes. He was a
giant. To be sure, he was lean, rawboned as a
horse, but powerful. What won me at once was
his natural, easy swing. He got the ball away
with scarcely any effort. I wondered what he
could do when he brought the motion of his body
into play.

*^Bub, what might be the pitcher's name?'* I
asked of a boy.

**Huh, mister, his name might be Dennis, but
it ain't. Huh I'' replied this country youngster.
Evidently my question had thrown some impli-
cation upon this particular player.

**I reckon you be a stranger in these parts,''
paid a pleasant old fellow. *'His name's Hurtle
— ^Whitaker Hurtle. Whit fer short. He hain't
lost a gol-damed game this summer. No sir-eel
Never pitched any before, nuther."

Hurtle f What a remarkably fitting name I

Bickettsville chose the field and the game began.
Hurtle swung with his easy motion. The ball shot
across like a white bullet. It was a strike, and so
was the next, and the one succeeding. He could
not throw anything but strikes, and it seemed the
Spatsburg players could not make even a f ouL

Outside of Hurtle 's work the game meant little
to me. And I was so fascinated by what I saw in
him that I could hardly contain myself. After
the first few innings I no longer tried to. I yelled

THE RUBE 31

with the Bickettsville rooters. The man was a
wonder. A blind baseball manager could have
seen that. He had a straight ball, shonlder high,
level as a stretched string, and fast. He had a
jnmp ball, which he evidently worked by putting
on a little more steam, and it was the speediest
thing I ever saw in the way of a shoot. He had a
wide-sweeping outcurve, wide as the blade of a
mowing scythe. And he had a drop— an un-
hittable drop. He did not use it often, for it made
his catcher dig too hard into the dirt. But when-
ever he did I glowed all over. Once or twice he
used an underhand motion and sent in a ball that
fairly swooped up. It could not have been hit
with a board. And best of all, dearest to the man-
ager's heart, he had control. Every ball he threw
went over the plate. He could not miss it. To
him that plate was as big as a house.

What a find I Already I had visions of the long-
looked-f or brace of my team, and of the pennant,
and the little cottage, and the happy light of a
pair of blue eyes. What he meant to me, that
country pitcher Hurtle I He shut out the Spats-
burg team without a run or a hit or even a scratch.
Then I went after him. I collared him and his
manager, and there, surrounded by the gaping
players, I bought him and signed him before any
of them knew exactly what I was about. I did
not haggle. I asked the manager what he wanted
and produced the cash; I asked Hurtle what he

32 THE BEDHEADED OUTFIELD

wanted, doubled his ridiculously modest demand,
paid him in advance, and got his name to the con-
tract. Then I breathed a long, deep breath; the
first one for weeks. Something told me that with
Hurtle 's signature in my pocket I had the Eastern
League pennant. Then I invited all concerned
down to the Bickettsville hoteL

We made connections at the railroad jxmction
and reached Worcester at midnight in time for a
good sleep. I took the silent and backward
pitcher to my hotel. In the morning we had
breakfast together. I showed him about Wor-
cester and then carried him off to the ball grounds.

I had ordered morning practice, and as morn-
ing practice is not conducive to the cheerfulness
of ball players, I wanted to reach the dressing
room a little late, When we arrived, all the play-
ers had dressed and were out on the field. I had
some difficulty in fitting Hurtle with a uniform,
and when I did get him dressed he resembled a
two-legged giraffe decked out in white shirt, gray
trousers and maroon stockings.

Spears, my veteran first baseman and cAptain
of the team, was the first to see us.

**Sufferin' umpires I'* yelled Spears. "Here,
you Micks I Look at this Con's got with himl'^

What a yell burst from that sore and dis-
gruntled bunch of ball tossers I My players were
a grouchy set in practice anyway, and today they
were in their meanest mood.

THE BUBE 33

"Hey, beanpole!*'

"Getontothestnts!''

"Con, where did you find thatf

I cut short their chaflSng with a sharp order for
batting practice.

"Begular line-up, now no monkey biz,'* I went
on. "Take two cracks and a bunt. Here, Hur-
tle,'* I said, drawing him toward the pitcher's
box, * * don 't pay any attention to their talk. That 's
only the fun of ball players. Go in now and prac-
tice a little. Lam a few over."

Hurtle's big freckled hands closed nervously
over the balL I thought it best not to say more
to him, for he had a rather wild look. I remem-
bered my own stage fright upon my first appear-
ance in fast company. Besides I knew what my
amiable players would say to him. I had a secret
hope and belief that presently they would yell
ui>on the other side of the fence.

McCall, my speedy little left fielder, led
off at bat He was full of ginger, chipper as
a squirrel, sarcastic as only a tried ball player
can be.

"Put 'em over. Slats, put 'em over," he called,
viciously swinging his ash.

Hurtle stood stiff and awkward in the box and
seemed to be rolling something in his mouth.
Then he moved his arm. We all saw the ball
dart down straight — ^that is, all of us except
McCall, because if he had seen it he might have

34 THE REDHEADED OUTFIELD

jumped out of the way. Crack! The ball hit him
on the shin.

McCall shrieked. We all groaned. That crack
hurt all of us. Any baseball player knows how it
hurts to be hit on the shinbone. McCall waved
his bat madly.

"Rube! Rube! Rube I '* he yelled.

Then and there Hurtle got the name that was
to cling to him all his baseball days.

McCall went back to the plate, red in the face,
mad as a hornet, and he sidestepped every time
Rube pitched a ball. He never even ticked one
and retired in disgust, limping and swearing.
Ashwell was next. He did not show much alac-
rity. On Rube ^s first pitch down went Ashwell flat
in the dust. The ball whipped the hair of his
head. Rube was wild and I began to get worried.
Ashwell hit a couple of measly punks, but when
he assayed a bunt the gang yelled derisively at
him.

** What's he gotf*^ The old familiar cry of
batters when facing a uew pitcher!

Stringer went up, bold and formidable. That
was what made him the great hitter he was. He
loved to bat; he would have faced anybody; he
would have faced even a cannon. New curves
were a fascination to hiuL And speed for him,
in his own words, was "apple pie.'^ In this in-
stance, surprise was in store for Stringer. Rube
shot up the straight one, then the wide curve, then

THE RUBE 35

the drop. Stringer missed them all, struck out,
fell down ignominionsly. It was the first time
he had fanned that season and he looked dazed.
We had to haul him away.

I called off the practice, somewhat worried
about Rube's showing, and undecided whether or
not to try him in the game that day. So I went
to Radboume, who had quietly watched Rube
while on the field. Raddy was an old pitcher and
had seen the rise of a hundred stars. I told him
about the game at Rickettsville and what I thought
of Rube, and frankly asked his opinion.

**Con, youVe made the find of yonr life,*' said
Raddy, quietly and deliberately.

This from Radboume was not only comforting ;
it was relief, hope, assurance. I avoided Spears,
for it would hardly be possible for him to regard
the Rube favorably, and I kept under cover until
time to show np at the grounds.

Buffalo was on the ticket for that afternoon,
and the Bisons were leading the race and playing
in topnotch form, I went into the dressing room
T/hile the players were changing suits, because
there was a little unpleasantness that I wanted to
spring on them before we got on the field.

**Boys,'' I said, curtly, ** Hurtle works today.
Cut loose, now, and back him up.'*

I had to grab a bat and pound on the wall to
stop the uproar.

**Did you mutts hear what I said? Well, it goes.

36 THE REDHEADED OUTFIELD

Not a word, now. I'm handling this team. We're
in bad, I know, but it's my judgment to pitch Hnr-
tle, rube or no rube, and it's up to you to back
us. That's the baseball of it."

Grumbling and muttering, they passed out of
the dressing room. I knew ball players. If Hur-
tle should happen to show good form they would
turn in a flash. Bube tagged reluctantly in their
rear. He looked like a man in a trance. I wanted
to speak encouragingly to him, but Baddy told me
to keep quiet.

It was inspiring to see my team practice that
afternoon. There had come a subtle change. I
foresaw one of those baseball climaxes that can
be felt and seen, but not explained. Whether it
was a hint of the hoped-for brace, or only another
flash of form before the final let-down, I had no
means to tell. But I was on edge.

Carter, the umpire, called out the batteries, and
I sent my team into the field. When that long,
lanky, awkward rustic started for the pitcher's
box, I thought the bleachers would make him drop
in his tracks. The fans were sore on any one
those days, and a new pitcher was boxmd to hear
from them.

'* Where! Oh, where! Oh, where!"

** Connelly's found another dead one!'^

"Scarecrow!"

"Look at his pants!"

"Pad his legs!"

THE EUBE 37

TUen the iiming began, and things happened.
Bube had marvelous speed, but he could not find
the plate. He threw the ball the second he got
it; he hit men, walked men, and fell all over him-
self trying to field bunts. The crowd stormed and
railed and hissed. The Bisons pranced round the
bases and yelled like Indians. Finally they retired
with eight runs.

Eight runs I Enough to win two games! I
could not have told how it happened. I was sick
and all but crushed. Still I had a blind, dogged
faith in the big rustic. I believed he had not got
started right. It was a trying situation. I called
Spears and Baddy to my side and talked fast.

'^ It's all off now. Let the dinged rube take his
medicine," growled Spears.

"Don't take him out,'' said Baddy. **He's not
shown at all what's in him. The blamed hay-
seed is up in the air. He's crazy. He doesn't
know what he 's doing. I tell you, Con, he may be
scared to death, but he's dead in earnest."

Suddenly I recalled the advice of the pleasant
old fellow at Bickettsville.

"Spears, you're the captain," I said, sharply.
**Go after the rube. Wake him up. Tell him he
can't pitch. CaU him *PogieI' That's a name
that stirs him up."

"WeU, I'll be dinged! He looks it," repUed
Spears. "Here, Bube, get off the bench. Come
here."

38 THE REDHEADED OUTFIELD

Rube lurched toward ns. He seemed to be
walking in his sleep. His breast was laboring and
he was dripping with sweat.

**Who ever told yon that yon conld pitch f
asked Spears genially. He was master at baseball
ridicnle. I had never yet seen the yonngster who
conld stand his badinage. He said a few things,
then wonnd np with: "Come now, yon cross be-
tween a hayrack and a wagon tongne, get sore and
do something. Pitch if yon can. Show nsl Do
yon hear, yon tow-headed Pogiel'*

Rnbe jumped as if he had been struck. His face
flamed red and his little eyes turned black. He
shoved his big fist under Capt. Spears ' nose.

** Mister, I'll lick you fer thet — after the game I
And m show you dog-goned well how I can
pitch.''

**GoodI" exclaimed Raddy; and I echoed his
word. Then I went to the bench and turned my
attention to the game. Some one told me that
McCall had made a couple of fouls, and after wait-
ing for two strikes and three balls had struck
out. Ashwell had beat out a bunt in his old swift
style, and Stringer was walking up to the plate
on the moment. It was interesting, even in a los-
ing game, to see Stringer go to bat. We all
watched him, as we had been watching him for
weeks, expecting him to break his slump with one
of the drives that had made him famous. Stringer
stood to the left side of the plate, and I could

THE RUBE 39

see the bulge of his closely locked jav. He swung
on the first pitched ball. With the solid rap we
all rose to watch that hit. The ball lined lirst,
then soared and did not begin to drop till it was
far beyond the right-field fence. For an instant
we were all still, so were the bleachers. Stringer
had broken his slump with the longest drive ever
made on the grounds. The crowd cheered as he
trotted around the bases behind Ashwell. Two
runs.

**Con, how'd you like that drive t^' he asked
me, with a bright gleam in his eyes.

* * 0-h- ! — ^a beaut ! ^ ' I replied, incoherently. The
players on the bench were all as glad as I was.
Henley flew out to left. Mullaney smashed a two-
bagger to right. Then Gregg hit safely, but Mul-
laney, in trying to score on the play, was out at
the plate.

"Four hits I I tell you fellows, something's
coming off,'* said Baddy. **Now, if only
Eube "

What a difference there was in that long rustic I
He stalked into the box, unmindful of the hooting
crowd and grimly faced Schultz, the first batter
up for the Bisons. This time Bube was deliber-
ate. And where he had not swung before he now
got his body and arm into full motion. The ball
came in like a glint of light. Schultz looked sur-
prised. The umpire called "Strike!''

* * Wow I ' ' yelled the Buffalo coacher. Bube sped

40 THE REDHEADED OUTFIELD

up the sidewheeler and Schtdtz reached wide to
meet it aad failed The third was the lightning
drop, straight over the plate. The batter poked
weakly at it. Then Carl struck ont and Manning
following, did likewise. Three of the best hitters
in the Eastern retired on nine strikes I That was
no flnke. I knew what it meant, and I sat there
hngging myself with the hum of something joyons
in my ears.

Gregg had a glow on his sweaty face. "Oh, bnt
say, boys, take a tip from me I The Rnbe 's a world
beater t Baddy knew it; he sized np that swing,
and now I know it. Get wise, yon its !"

When old Spears pasted a single through short-
stop, the Buffalo manager took Clary out of the
box and put in Vane, their best pitcher. Bogart
advanced the runner to second, but was thrown
out on the play. Then Bube came up. He swung
a huge bat and loomed over the Bison's twirler.
Bube had the look of a hitter. He seemed to be
holding himself back from walking right into the
balL And he hit one high and far away. The
fast Carl could not get nnder it, thongh he made
a valiant effort. Spears scored and Bube's long
strides carried him to third. The cold crowd in
the stands came to life; even the sore bleachers
opened np. McCall dumped a slow teaser down
the line, a hit that wonld easily have scored Bube,
bnt he ran a little way, then stopped, tried to get
back, and was easily touched ont Ashwell's hard

THE BUBE 41

chance gave the Bison's shortstop an error, and
Stringer came np with two men on bases. Stringer
hit a f onl over the right-field fence and the crowd
howled. Then he hit a hard long drive straight
into the centerfielder's hands.

"Con, I don't know what to think, bnt ding me
if we ain't hittin' the ball," said Spears. Then
to his players: "A little more of that and we're
back in onr old shape. All in a minute — ^at 'em
now I Bube, yon dinged old Pogie, pitch 1"

Bnbe toed the rubber, wrapped his long brown
fingers round the ball, stepped out as he swung
and — zing ! That inning he unloosed a few more
kinks in his arm and he tried some new balls upon
the Bisons. But whatever he used and wherever
he put them the result was the same — ^they cut the
plate and the Bisons were powerless.

That inning marked the change in my team.
Hiey had come back. The hoodoo had vanished.
The championship Worcester team was itself
again.

The Bisons were fighting, too, but Bube ha3
them helpless. When they did hit a ball one of
my infielders snapped it up. No chances went to
the outfield. I sat there listening to my men, and
reveled in a moment that I had long prayed for.

"Now you're pitching some, Bube. Another
strike I Get him a board ! ' ' called AshwelL

"Ding 'em, Bube, ding 'em I" came from Capt.
Spears.

42 THE REDHEADED OUTFIELD

**Speed? Oh— no!*' yelled Bogart at ihira
base.

*'It's alloff, Rnbel It's all off— all off!"

So, with the wonderful pitching of an angry
rube, the Worcester team came into its own
again. I sat through it all without another word ;
without giving a signal. In a way I realized the
awakening of the bleachers, and heard the pound
of feet and the crash, but it was the spirit of my
team that thrilled me. Next to that the work of
my new find absorbed me. I gloated over his easy,
deceiving swing. I rose out of my seat when he
threw that straight fast ball, swift as a bullet,
true as a plumb line. And when those hard-hit-
ting, sure bunting Bisons chopped in vain at the
wonderful drop, I choked back a wild yelL For
Bube meant the world to me that day.

In the eighth the score was 8 to 6. The Bisons
had one scratch hit to their credit, but not a
runner had got beyond first base. Again Bube
held them safely, one man striking out, another
fouling out, and the third going out on a little fly.

Crash! Crash! Crash! Crash! The bleach-
ers were making up for many games in which
they could not express their riotous feelings.

**It's a cinch weTl win!*' yelled a fan with a
voice. Bube was the first man up in our half of
the ninth and his big bat lammed the first ball
safe over second base. The crowd, hungry for
victory, got to their feet and stayed upon their

THE BT7BE 43

feet, calling, cheering for mns. It was the mo-
ment for me to get in the game, and I leaped np,
stnmg like a wire, and white hot with inspira-
tion. I sent Spears to the coaching box with
orders to make Bnbe run on the first ball. I
gripped McCall with hands that made him wince.

Then I dropped back on the bench spent and
panting. It was only a game, yet it meant so
much I Little McCall was dark as a thunder cloud,
and his fiery eyes snapped. He was the fastest
man in the league, and could have bunted an
arrow from a bow. The foxy Bison third base-
man edged in. Mac feinted to bunt toward him
then turned his bat inward and dumped a teasing
curving ball down the first base line. Rube ran
as if in seven-league boots. Mac's short legs
twinkled; he went like the wind; he leaped into
first base with his long slide, and beat the
throw.

The stands and bleachers seemed to be tumbling
down. For a moment the air was full of deafen-
ing sound. Then came the pause, the dying away
of clatter and roar, the close waiting, suspended
quiet. Spears ' clear voice, as he coached Bube, in
its keen note seemed inevitable of another run.

Ashwell took his stand. He was another left-
hand hitter, and against a right-hand pitcher, in
such circumstances as these, the most dangerous
of men. Vane knew it. Ellis, the Bison captain
boaw it, as showed plainly in his signal to catch

44 THE EEDHEADED OUTFIELD

Bnbe at second. But Spears' warning held or
frightened Bnbe on the bag.

Vane wasted a ball, then another. Ashwell
conld not be coaxed. Wearily Vane swung; the
shortstop raced out to get in line for a pos-
sible hit through the wide space to his right,
and the second baseman got on his toes as both
base runners started.

Crack I The old story of the hit and run game t
Ashwell 's hit crossed sharply where a moment
before the shortstop had been standing. With
gigantic strides Bnbe rounded the comer and
scored. McCall flitted through second, and diving
into third with a cloud of dust, got the umpire's
decision. When Stringer hurried up with Mac
on third and Ash on first the whole field seemed
racked in a deafening storm. Again it subsided
quickly. The hopes of the Worcester fans had
been crushed too often of late for them to be fear-
less.

But I had no fear. I only wanted the suspense
ended. I was like a man clamped in a vise.
Stringer stood motionless. Mac bent low. with the
sprinters' stoop; Ash watched the pitcher's arm
and slowly edged off first. Stringer waited for
one strike and two balls, then he hit the next. It
hugged the first base line, bounced fiercely past
the bag and skipped over the grass to bump hard
into the fence. McCall romped home, and lame
Ashwell beat any run he ever n:iade to the plate.

THE RUBE 45

Bolliiig, swelling, crashing roar of frenzied feet
conld not down the high piercing sustained yell of

the fans. It was great. Three weeks of snb-

xnerged bottled baseball joy exploded in one mad
outburst I The fans, too, had come into their own
again.

We scored no more. But the Bisons were
beaten. Their spirit was broken. This did not
make the Bube let up in their last half inning.
Grim and pale he faced theuL At every long step
and swing he tossed his shock of light hair. At
the end he was even stronger than at the begin-
ning. He still had the glancing, floating airy
quality that baseball players call speed. And he
struck out the last three batters.

In the tumult that burst over my ears I sat
staring at the dots on my score card. Fourteen
strike outs I one scratch hit! No base on balls
since the first inning ! That told the story which
deadened senses doubted. There was a roar in
my ears. Some one was pounding me. As I strug-
gled to get into the dressing room the crowd
mobbed me. But I did not hear what they yelled.
I had a kind of misty veil before my eyes, in
which I saw that lanky Bube magnified into a
glorious figure. I saw the pennant waving, and
the gleam of a white cottage through the trees,
and a trim figure waiting at the gate. Then I
rolled into the dressing room.

Somehow it seemed strange to me. Most of the

46 THE REDHEADED OUTFIELD

players were stretched ont in peculiar convul-
sions. Old Spears sat with drooping head. Then
a wild flaming-eyed giant swooped upon me. With
a voice of thunder he announced :

**I'm a-goin' to lick you, too!'*

After that we never called him any name except
Bube.

THE RUBE'S PENNANT

"Fellows, it^s this way. YonVe got to win
today's game. It's the last of the season and
means the pennant for Worcester. One more
hard scrap and we're done! Of all the np-hiU
fights any bunch ever made to land the flag, onr
has been the best. You're the best team I ever
managed, the gamest gang of ball players that
ever stepped in spikes. We've played in the
hardest kind of luck all season, except that short
trip we called the Bube 's Honeymoon. We got a
bad start, and sore arms and bnsted fingers, all
kinds of injuries, every accident calculated to hurt
a team's chances, came our way. But in spite of
it all we got the lead and we 've held it, and today
we're still a few points ahead of Buffalo."

I paused to catch my breath, and looked round
on the grim, tired faces of my players. They
made a stem group. The close of the season
found them almost played out. What a hard
chance it was, after their extraordinary efforts,

47

I

48 THE REDHEADED OUTFIEL

to bring fhe issue of the x>ennant down to this last
game!

**If we lose today, Bnflfalo, with three games
more to play at home, will pnll the bunting," I
went on. "But they're not going to win I I'm
putting it up to you that way. I know Spears is
all in; Baddy's arm is gone; Ash is playing on
one leg; you're all crippled. But you've got one
more game in you, I know. These last few weeks
the Bube has been pitching out of turn and he's
about all in, too. He 's kept us in the lead. If he
wins today it 11 be Bube's Pennant. But that
might apply to all of you. Now, shall we talk
over the play today f Any tricks to pull off ? Any
inside work?"

**Con, you're pretty much upset an' nervous,"
replied Spears, soberly. "It ain't no wonder.
This has been one corker of a season. I want to
suggest that you let me run the team today. I've
talked over the play with the fellers. We ain't
goin' to lose this game. Con. Buffalo has been
comin' with a rush lately, an' they're confident.
But we've been holdin' in, restin' up as much as
we dared an' still keep our lead. Mebbee it 11 sur-
prise you to know we've bet every dollar we could
get hold of on this game. Why, Buffalo money is
everywhere."

"All right. Spears, 111 turn the team over to
you. We'vegotthebannercrowdof the year out
there right now, a great crowd to play before.

THE BUBE'S PENNANT 49

I'm more fussed up over fhis game than any I
remember. Buir I have a sort of blind faith in
my team. . . . I gaess that's all I want to say.''

Spears led the silent players ' ont of the dress-
ing room and I followed ; and while they began to
toss balls to and fro, to limber np cold, dead arms,
I sat on the bench.

The Bisons were prancing abont the diamond,
and their swaggering assurance was not con-
ducive to hope for the Worcesters. I wondered
how many of that vast, noisy audience, intent on
the day's sport, even had a thought of what pain
and toil it meant to my players. The Buffalo men
were in good shape; they had been lucky; they
were at the top of their stride, and that made all
the difference.

At any rate, there were a few faithful little
women in the grand stand — ^Milly and Nan and
Bose Stringer and Kate Bogart— who sat with
compressed lips and hoped and prayed for that
game to begin and end.

The gong called off the practice, and Spears,
taking the field, yelled gruff encouragement to his
men. Umpire Carter brushed off the plate and
fitossed a white ball to Bube and called: "Play I"
The bleachers set up an exultant, satisfied shout
and sat down to wait.

Schultz toed the plate and watched the Bube
pitch a couple. There seemed to be no diminution
of the great pitcher's speed and both balls cut the

50 THE REDHEADED OUTFIELD

plate. Schultz clipped the next one down the third-
base line. Bogart trapped it close to the bag, and
got it away> underhand, beating the speedy runner
by a nose. It was a pretty play to start with, and
the spectators were not close-mouthed in appre-
ciation. The short, stocky Carl ambled up to
bat, and I heard him call the Bube something. It
was not a friendly contest, this deciding game be-
tween Buffalo and Worcester.

^^Bing one close to his swelled nut!'^ growled
Spears to the Bube.

Carl chopped a bouncing grounder through
short and Ash was after it like a tiger, but it was
a hit. The Buffalo contingent opened up. Then
Manning faced the Bube, and he, too, vented sar-
casmu It might not have been heard by the slow,
imperturbable pitcher for all the notice he took.
Carl edged off first, slid back twice, got a third
start, and on the Bube 's pitch was off for second
base with the lead that always made him danger-
ous. Manning swung vainly, and Gregg snapped
a throw to MuUaney. Ball and runner got to th»
bag apparently simultaneously ; the xraipire called
Carl out, and the crowd uttered a quick roar of
delight.

The next pitch to Manning was a strike. Bube
was not wasting any balls, a point I noted with
mingled fear and satisfaction. For he might have
felt that he had no strength to spare that day and
60 could not try to work the batters. Again he

THE RUBERS PENNANT 51

Bwnng, and Manning rapped a long line fly over
McCalL As the little left fielder turned at the

sound of the hit and sprinted out, his lameness

was certainly not in evidence. He was the swift-
est runner in the league and always when he got
going the crowd rose in wild clamor to watch him.
Mac took that fly right off the foul flag in deep
left, and the bleachers dinned their pleasure,

The teams changed positions. "Fellers,^' said
Spears, savagely, *^we may be a bunged-up lot of
stiffs, but, say I We can hit! If you love your
old captain — sting the ball!'*

Vane, the Bison pitcher, surely had his work
cut out for him. For one sympathetic moment I
saw his part through his eyes. My Worcester
veterans, long used to being under fire, were re-
lentlessly bent on taking that game. It showed
in many ways, particularly in their silence, be-
cause they were seldom a silent team. McCall
hesitated a moment over his bats. Then, as he
picked up the lightest one, I saw his jaw set, and
I knew he intended to bunt. He was lame, yet he
meant to beat out an infield hit. He went up
scowling.

Vane had an old head, and he had a varied
assortment of balls. For Mac he used an under-
hand curve, rising at the plate and curving in to
the left-hander. Mac stepped back and let it go.
** That's the place. Bo,'' cried the Buffalo infield-
ers. ^'Keep 'em close on the Crab." Eager and

62 THE REDHEADED OUTFIELD

fierce as McCall was, he let pitch after pitch go
by till he had three balls and two strikes. Still
the heady Vane sent np another pitch similar to
the others. Mac stepped forward in the box,
dropped his bat on the ball, and leaped down the
line toward first base. Vane came rushing in for
the bnnt, got it and threw. But as the speeding
ball neared the baseman, Mac stretched ont into
the air and shot for the bag. By a fraction of a
second he beat the ball. It was one of his demon-
slides. He knew that the chances favored his be-
ing crippled; we all knew that some day Mac
wonld slide recklessly once too often. Bnt that,
too, is all in the game and in the spirit of a great
player.

**We're on,*' said Spears; **now keep with
him.^'

By that the captain meant that Mac wonld go
down, and Ashwell wonld hit with the run.

When Vane pitched, little McCall was flitting
toward second. The Bison shortstop started for
the bag, and Ash hit square through his tradbB.
!A! rolling cheer burst from the bleachers, and
swelled till McCall overran third base and was
thrown back by the coacher. Stringer hurried
forward with his big bat.

**0h! My!'' yelled a fan, and he voiced my
sentiments exactly. Here we would score, and be
one run closer to that dearly bought pennant.

How well my men worked together! As the

THE RUBE'S PENNANT 53

pitcher let the ball go, Ash was digging for sec-
ond and Mac was shooting plateward. They

played on the chance of Stringer's hitting*
Stringer swung, the bat cracked, we heard a thud
somewhere, and then Manning, half knocked over,
was fnmbling for the ball. He had knocked down
a terrific drive with his mitt, and he got the ball
in time to pnt Stringer ont. But Mac scored and
Ash drew a throw to third base and beat it. He
had a bad ankle, but no one noticed it in that dar-
ing run.

"Watch me paste one!" said Captain Spears,
as he spat several yards. He batted out a fly so
long and high and far that, slow as he was, he had
nearly run to second base when Carl made the
catch. Ash easily scored on the throw-in. Then
Bogart sent one skipping over second, knd Tread-
well, scooping it on the run, completed a play that
showed why he was considered the star of the
Bison infield.

"Two runs, fellers!'^ said Spears. "That^s
some! Push 'em over. Rube."

The second inning somewhat quickened the
pace. Even the Bube worked a little faster. Ellis
lined to Cairns in right; Treadwell fouled two
balls and had a called strike, and was out; Mc-
Knight hit a low fly over short, then Bud Wiler
sent one between Spears and Mullaney. Spears
went for it while the Bube with giant strides ran
to cover first base. Between them they got Bud^

54 THE EEDHEADED OUTFIELD

but it was only because he was heavy and slow
on his feet.

In onr half of that inning Mnllaney, Gregg and
Cairns went out in one, two, three order.

With Pannell np, I saw that the Rube held in
on his speed, or else he was tiring. Pannell hit
the second slow ball for two bases. Vane sacri-
ficed, and then the redoubtable Schultz came up.
He appeared to be in no hurry to bat. Then I
saw that the foxy Buffalo players were working
to tire the Bube. They had the situation figured.
But they were no wiser than old Spears.

"Make ^em hit, Bube. Push 'em straight over.
Never mind the comers. "We don't care for a
few runs. Well hit this game out.*'

Shultz flied to Mac, who made a beautiful throw
to the plate too late to catch Pannell. Carl de-
liberately bunted to the right of the Bube and it
cost the big pitcher strenuous effort to catch his
man.

**We got the Bube wagginM'' yelled a Buffalo
player.

Manning tripled down the left foul line — a hit
the bleachers called a screamer. When Ellis
came up, it looked like a tie score, and when the
Bube pitched it was plain that he was tired. The
Bisons yelled their assurance of this and the
audience settled into quiet. Ellis batted a
scorcher that looked good for a hit. But the fast
Ashwell was moving with the ball, and he plunged

THE BUBE^S PENNANT 55

lengthwise to get it square in his glove. The hit
had been so sharp that he had time to get up and
make the throw to beat the ronner. The bleachers
thundered at the play.

"You're up, Bnbe/' called Spears. "Lam one
ontof thelotl*'

The Bnbe was an uncertain batter. There was
never any telling what he might do, for he had
spells of good and bad hitting. But when he did
get his bat on the ball it meant a chase for some
fielder. He went up swinging his huge club, and
he hit a fly that would have been an easy home run
for a fast man. But the best Bube could do was
to reach third base. This was certainly good
enough, as the bleachers loudly proclaimed, and
another tally for us seemed sure.

McCall bunted toward third, another of his

teasers. The Bube would surely have scored had
he started with the ball, but he did not try and
missed a chance. Wiler, of course, held the ball,
and Mac got to first without special effort He
went down on the first pitch. Then Ash lined to
CarL The Bube waited till the ball was caught
and started for home. The crowd screamed, the
Bube ran for all he was worth and Carl's throw
to the plate shot in low and true. Ellis blocked
the Bube and tagged him out.

It looked to the bleachers as if Ellis had been
unnecessarily rough, and they hissed and stormed
disapproval. As for me, I Imew the Bisons were

56 THE REDHEADED OUTFIELD

losing no chance to wear ont my pitcher. Stringer
f onled ont with Mac on third, and it made him so
angry that he threw his bat toward the bench,

making some of the boys skip lively.

The next three innings, as far as scoring was
concerned, were all for Bnflfalo. Bnt the Wor-
cester infield played magnificent ball, holding their
opponents to one run each inning.

That made the score 4 to 2 in favor of Bnffalo.

In the last half of the sixth, with Ash on first
base and two men ont, old Spears hit another of
his lofty flies, and this one went over the fence
and tied the score. How the bleachers roared!
It was fnll two minutes before they qnieted down.
To make it all the more exciting, Bogart hit
safely, ran like a deer to third on Mnllaney's
gronnder, which Wiler knocked down, and scored
on a passed balL Oregg ended the inning by
striking ont.

''Get at the Bnbe!^' boomed Ellis, the Bison
captain. "WeTl have him np in the air soon. Gtet
in the game now, yon stickers!"

Before I knew what had happened, the Bisons
had again tied the score. They were indomitable.
They grew stronger all the time. A stroke of
good Inck now wonld clinch the game for them.
The Bnbe was beginning to labor in the box ; Ash-
well was limping; Spears looked as if he wonld
drop any moment; McCall conld scarcely walk.
Bnt if the ball came his way he conld still run*

THE RUBERS PENNANT 57

Nevertheless, I never saw any finer fielding than
these Gripped players executed that inning.

"Ash — ^Mao — can yon hold outf I asked, when
fhey limped in. I received glances of soom for
my question. Spears, however, was not san-
guine.

**I11 stick pretty much if somethin^ doesn't
happen," he said; "but I'm all in. Ill need a
runner if I get to first this time.'*

Spears lumbered down to first base on an in-
field hit and the heavy Manning gave him the hip.
Old Spears went down, and I for one knew he
was out in more ways than that signified by
Carter's sharp: "Out!''

The old war-horse gathered himself up slowly
and painfully, and with his arms folded and his
jaw protrudmg, he limped toward the umpire.

"Did you call me outf " he asked, in a voice
plainly audible to any one on the field*

"Yes,'* snapped Carter.

"What fort I beat the ball, an* Mannin'
played dirty with me — ^gave me the hip."

"I called you out."

"But I wasn't out!"

^ ' Shut up now I Get off the diamond I ' ' ordered
Carter, x>6remptorily.

"WhatT Met Say, I'm captain of this team.
Can't I question a decision t"

"Not mine. Spears, you're delaying th^
game."

68 THE EEDHEADED OUTFIELD

**I tell you it was a rotten decision/* yelled
Spears. The bleachers agreed with him.

Carter grew red in the face. He and Spears
had before then met in field squabbles, and he
showed it.

**Fifty dollars!"

**More! Yon cheap-skate — yon piker I Morel*'

•'It's a hundred!"

**Put me out of the game!" roared Spears.

• * You bet ! Hurry now — ^skedaddle 1 ' '

**Rob-b-ber!" bawled Spears.

Then he labored slowly toward the bench, all
red, and yet with perspiration, his demeanor one
of outraged dignity. The great crowd, as one
man, stood up and yelled hoarsely at Carter, and
hissed and railed at him. When Spears got to
the bench he sat down beside me as if in pain, but
he was smiling.

**Con, I was all in, an' knowin' I couldn't play
any longer, thought I'd try to scare Carter. Say,
he was white in the face. If we play into a close
decision now, hell give it to as."

Bogart and Mullaney batted out in short order,
and once more the aggressive Bisons hurried in
for their turn. Spears sent Cairns to first base
and Jones to right The Bube lobbed up his slow
ball. In that tight pinch he showed his splendid
nerve. Two Buffalo players, over-anxious,
popped up flies. The Bube kept on pitching the
slow curve until it was hit safely. Then heav-

THE BUBE'S PENNANT 59

ing his shoulders with all his might he got all
the motion possible into his swing and let drive.
He had almost all of his old speed, bnt it hnrt
me to see him work with such desperate effort.
He stmck Wiler out.

He came stooping into the bench, apparently
deaf to the stunning round of applause. Every
player on the team had a word for the Rube.
There was no quitting in that bunch, and if I ever
saw victory on the stem faces of ball players it
was in that moment

**We haven't opened up yet. Mebbee this is
the innin^ If it ain't, the next is," said Si>ears.

With the weak end of the batting list up, there
seemed little hope of getting a run on Vane that
inning. He had so much confidence that he put
the ball over for Gregg, who hit out of the reach
of the infield. Again Vane sent up his straight
ball, no doubt expecting Cairns to hit into a
double play. But Cairns surprised Vane and
everybody else by poking a safety past first base.
The fans began to howl and pound and whistle.

The Bube strode to bat. The infield closed in
for a bunt, but the Bube had no orders for that
style of play. Spears had said nothing to him.
Vane lost his nonchalance and settled down. He
cut loose with all his speed. Bube stepped out,
suddenly whirled, then tried to dodge, but the ball
hit him fair in the back. Bube sagged in his
tracks, then straightened up, and walked slowly

60 THE EEDHEADED OUTFIELD

to first base. Score 5 to 5, bases full, no ontSy
MeCall at bat. I sat dumb on the bench, thrilling
and shivering. McCall! Ashwell! Stringer to

bat I

'*Play it safe! Hold the bagsl'' yelled the
coacher.

McCall fairly spouted defiance as he faced
Vane.

"Pitch! It^salloff! An' you know it!''

If Vane knew that, he showed no evidence of
it. His face was cold, unsmiling, rigid. He had
to pitch to McCall, the fastest man in the league ;
to Ashwell, the best hunter ; to Stringer, the cham-
pion batter. It was a supreme test for a great
pitcher. There was only one kind of a ball that
McCall was not sure to hit, and that was a high
curve, in close. Vane threw it with all his power.
Carter called it a strike. Again Vane swung and
his arm fairly cracked. Mac fouled the ball. The
third was wide. Slowly, with lifting breast, Vane
got ready, whirled savagely and shot up the ball.
McCall struck out.

As the Buffalo players crowed and the audience
groaned it was worthy of note that little McCall
showed no temper. Yet he had failed to grasp a
great opportunity.

^^Ash, I couldn't see 'em," he said, as he passed
to the bench. ** Speed, whew! look out for it.
He's been savin' up. Hit quick, an' you 11 get
him."

THE BUBE^S PENNANT 61

Ashwell^ent over the plate and glowered at
Vane.
^Titeh! It's all off! An' you know iti'' he

hissedy nsing Mac's words.

Ashwell, too, was left-handed; he, too, was ex-
tremely hard to pitch to ; and if he had a weak-
ness that any of us ever discovered, it was a slow
curve and change of pace. But I doubted if Vane
would dare to use slow balls to Ash at that critical
moment. I had yet to leam something of Vane.
He gave Ash a slow, wide-sweeping sidewheeler,
that curved round over the plate. Ash always
took 4 strike, so this did not matter. Then Vane
used his deceptive change of pace, sending up a
curve that just missed Ash's bat as he swung.

" Oh ! A-h-h I hit ! " wailed the bleachers.

Vane doubled up like a contortionist, and shot
up a lightning-swift drop that fooled Ash com-
pletely. Again the crowd groaned. Score tied,
bases full, two out. Stringer at bat !

"It's up to you, String," called Ash, stepping
aside.

Stringer did not call out to Vane. That was
not his way. He stood tense and alert, bat on his
shoulder, his powerful form braced, and he
waited. The outfielders trotted over toward right
field, and the infielders played deep, calling out
warnings and encouragement to the pitcher.
Stringer had no weakness, and Vane knew this.
Nevertheless he did not manifest any uneasiness,

62 THE REDHEADED OUTFIELD

and pitched the first ball without any extra mo-
tion. Carter called it a strike. I saw Stringer
sink down slightly and grow tenser all over. I
believe that moment was longer for me than for
either the pitcher or the batter. Vane took his
time, watched the base runners, feinted to throw
to catch them, and then delivered the ball toward
the plate with the limit of his power.

Stringer hit the ball. As long as I live, I will
see that glancing low liner. Shultz, by a wonder-
ful play in deep center, blocked the ball and
thereby saved it from being a home run. But
when Stringer stopped on second base, all the
runners had scored.

A shrill, shrieking, high-pitched yell! The
bleachers threatened to destroy the stands and
also their throats in one long revel of baseball
madness.

Jones, batting in place of Spears, had gone
up and fouled out before the uproar had sub-
sided.

*^ Fellers, I reckon I feel easier,'^ said the Bube.
It was the only time I had ever heard him speak
to the players at such a stage.

**Only six batters, Eube,*' called out Spears.
"Boys, it's a grand game, an' it's our'nl*'

The Eube had enough that inning to dispose of
the lower half of the Buffalo list without any
alarming bids for a run. And in our half, Bogart
and Mullaney hit vicious ground balls that gave

THE BUBE'S PENNANT 63

Treadwell and Wiler opportunities for snpeib
plays. Carl, likewise, made a beautiful running
catch of Gregg's line fly. The Bisons were still
in the game, still capable of pulling it out at the
last moment.

When Shultz stalked up to the plate I shut my
eyes a moment, and so still was it that the field
and stands might have been empty. Tet^ though
I tried, I could not keep my eyes closed. I opened
them to watch the Bube. I knew Spears felt the
same as I, for he was blowing like a porpoise and
muttering to himself: **Mebee the Bube won't
last an' IVe no one to put inf

The Bube pitched with heavy, violent effort.
He had still enough speed to be dangerous. But
after the manner of ball players Shultz and the
coachers mocked him.

**Take all you can,'' called Ellis to Shultz.

Every pitch lessened the Bube's strength and
these wise opponents knew it. Likewise the Bube
himself knew, and never had he shown better head
work than in this inning. If he were to win, he
nrast be quick. So he wasted not a ball. The first
pitch and the second, delivered breast high and
fairly over the plate, beautiful balls to hit, Shultz
watched speed by. He swung hard on the third
and the crippled Ashwell dove for it in a cloud
of dust, got a hand in front of it, but uselessly,
for the hit was safe. The crowd cheered that
splendid effort.

64 THE REDHEADED OUTFIELD

Carl marched to bat, and he swung his clnb over
ttie plate as if he knew what to expect. "Come
on, Bube!'' he shouted. Wearily, doggedly, the
Rube whirled, and whipped his arm. The ball
had all his old glancing speed and it was a strike.
The Rube was making a tremendous effort.
Again he got his body in couTulsive mfotion — ^two
strikes! Shultz had made no move to run, nor
had Carl made any move to hit. These veterans
were waiting. The Rube had pitched five strikes
— could he lastf

"Now, Carl!^' yeUed EUis, with startling sud-
denness, as the Rube pitched again.

Crack ! Carl placed that hit as safely through
short as if he had thrown it. McCall's little legs
twinkled as he dashed over the grass. He had to
head off that hit and he ran like a streak. Down
and forward he pitched, as if in one of his fierce
slides, and he got his body in front of the ball,
blocking it, and then he rolled over and over. But
he jumped up and lined the ball to Bogart, almost
catching Shultz at third-base. Then, as Mac tried
to walk, his lame leg buckled under him, and down
he went, and out.

"CaU time,'* I called to Carter. "McCall is
done. . . . Myers, you go to left an' for Lord's
sake play ball!''

Stringer and Bogart hurried to Mac and, lift-
ing him np and supporting him between them
with his arms around their shoulders, they led

THE BUBE'S PENNANT 65

off amid cheers from the stands. Mao was
white with pain.

"Naw, I won't go off the field. Leave me on
the bench,'' he said. "Fight 'em now. It's our
game. Never mind a conple of runs."

The boys ran back to their positions and Carter
called play. Perhaps a little delay had been help-
ful to the Bube. Slowly he stepped into the box
and watched Shultz at third and Carl at second.
There was not much probability of his throwing
to catch them off the base, but enough of a pos-
sibility to make them careful, so he held them
dose.

The Bube pitched a strike to Manning, then an-
other. That made eight strikes square over the
plate that inning* What magnificent control I It
was equaled by the implacable patience of those
veteran Bisons. Manning hit the next ball as
hard as Carl had hit his. But Mullaney plunged
down, came up with the ball, feinted to fool Carl,
then let drive to Gregg to catch the fleeting Shultz.
The throw went wide, but Gregg got it, and, leap-
ing lengthwise, tagged Shultz out a yard from the
plate.

One out. Two runners on bases. The bleachers
rose and split their throats. Would the inning
never end?

Spears kept telling himself: ** They 11 score,
but well win. It's our game I*'

I had a sickening fear that the strange con-

66 THE REDHEADED OUTFIELD

fidence that obsessed the Worcester players had
been blind, unreasoning vanity.

**Carl will steal/' muttered Spears. **He
can 't be stopped. ' '

Spears had called the play. The Eube tried to
hold the little base-stealer close to second, bnt,
after one attempt, wisely tamed to his hard task
of making the Bisons hit and hit quickly. Ellis
let the ball pass ; Gregg made a perfect throw to
third; Bogart caught the ball and moved like a
flash, but Carl slid under his hands to the bag.
Manning ran down to second. The Bube pitched
again, and this was his tenth ball over the plate*
Even the Buffalo players evinced eloquent appre-
ciation of the Bube's defence at this last stand.

Then Ellis sent a clean hit to right, scoring both
Carl and Manning. I breathed easier, for it
seemed with those two runners in, the Bube had a
better chance. Treadwell also took those two
runners in, the Bube had a way those Bisons
waited. They had their reward, for the Bube's
speed left hinoL When he pitched again the ball
had control, but no shoot. Treadwell hit it with
all his strength. Like a huge cat Ashwell pounced
upon it, ran over second base, forcing Ellis, and
his speedy snap to first almost caught Treadwell.

Score 8 to 7. Two out. Bunner on first. One
run to tie.

In my hazy, dimmed vision I saw the Bube's
pennant waving from the flag-pole.

THE RUBE'S PENNANT 37

''It's our game!*' howled Spears in my ear,
for the noise from the stands was deafening.
"It's onr pennant I"

The formidable batting strength of the Bisons
had been met, not without disaster, bnt without
defeat. McKnight came up for Buffalo and the
Bube took his weary swing. The batter made a
terrific lunge and hit the ball with a solid crack.
It lined for center.

Suddenly electrified into action, I leaped up.
That hit! It froze me with horror. It was a
home-run. I saw Stringer fly toward left center.
He ran like something wild. I saw the heavy
Treadwell lumbering round the bases. I saw Ash-
well run out into center field.

"Ah-h!" The whole audience relieved its
terror in that expulsion of suspended breath.
Stringer had leaped high to knock down the ball,
saving a sure home-run and the game. He re-
covered himself, dashed back for the ball and shot
it to Ash.

When Ash turned toward the plate, Treadwell
was rounding third base. A tie score appeared
inevitable. I saw Ash's armj whip and the ball
shoot forward, leveled, glancing, beautiful in its
flight. The crowd saw it, and the silence broke
to a yell that rose and rose as the ball sped in.
That yell swelled to a splitting shriek, and
Treadwell slid in the dust, and the ball shot into
Gregg's hands all at the same instant.

68 THE REDHEADED OUTFIELD

Carter waved both arms tipwards. It was the
timpire's action when his decision went against
the base-mnner. The andience rolled np one great
stenorian cry.

**OutI''

I collapsed and sank back npon the bench. My
confused senses received a dnll roar of pounding
feet and dinning voices as the herald of victory.
I felt myself thinking how pleased Milly would be.
I had a distinct picture in my mind of a white
cottage on a hill, no longer a dream, but a reality,
made possible for me by the Bube's winning of
the pennant.

THE RUBE'S HONEYMOON

"He's got a new manager. Watch him pitch
now I'' That was what Nan Brown said to me
ahont Bube Hurtle, my great pitcher, and I took
it as her way of announcing her engagement.

My baseball career held some prond moments,
bnt this one, wherein I realized the success of my
matchmaking plans, was certainly the proudest
one. So, entirely outside of the honest pleasure
I got out of the Bube's happiness, there was
reason for me to congratulate myself. He was a
transf omled man, so absolutely renewed, so wild
with joy, that on the strength of it, I decided the
X>eimant for Worcester was a foregone conclu-
sion, and, sure of the money promised me by the
directors, Milly and I began to make plans for
the cottage upon the hill.

The Bube insisted on pitching Monday's game
against the Torontos, and although poor fielding
gave them a couple of runs, they never had a
chance. They could not see the balL The Bube

69

70 THE REDHEADED OUTFIELD

wrapped it around their necks and between their
wrists and straight over the plate with snch in-
credible speed that they might just as well have
tried to bat rifle bnllets.

That night I was happy. Spears, my veteran
captain, was one huge smile; Radbonme quietly
iassured me that all was over now but the shout-
ing ; all the boys were happy.

And the Bube was the happiest of all. At the
hotel he burst out with his exceeding good for-
tune. He and Nan were to be married upon the
Fourth of July I

After the noisy congratulations were over and
the Bube had gone. Spears looked at me and I
looked at hinL

"Con,'' said he soberly, **we just can't let him
get married on the Fourth."

**Why not? Sure we can. Well help him get
married. I tell you it 11 save the pennant for us.
Look how he pitched today 1 Nan Brown is our
salvation ! ' '

"See here, Con, you've got softenin' of the
brain, too. Where's your baseball sense? We've
got a pennant to win. By July Fourth well be
close to the lead again, an' Uiere's that three
weeks' trip on the road, the longest an' hardest
of the season. We've just got to break even on
that trip. You know what that means. If the
Bube marries Nan — ^what are we goin ' to do ? We
can't leave him behind. If he takes Nan with us

THE BUBE'S HONEYMOON 71

— why it 11 be a honeymoon I An' half the gang
is stuck on Nan Brown I An' Nan Brown wonld
flirt in her bridal veil ! . . . Why Con, we 're up
against a worse proposition than ever/*

"Good Heavens! Cap. Yon 're right," I
groaned. "I never thought of that. We've got
to postpone the wedding. . . . How on earth can
we? I've heard her tell MiUy that. She'll never
consent to it. Say, this '11 drive me to drink."

"All I got to say is this, Con. If the Eube
takes his wife on that trip it's goin' to be an all-
fired hnmmer. Don't you forget that."

"I'm not likely to. But, Spears, the point is
this — will the Rube win his games t"

"Pigurin' from his work today, I'd gamble
hell never lose another game. It ain't that. I'm
thinkin' of what the gang will do to him an' Nan
on the cars an' at the hotels. Oh I Lord, Con, it
ain't possible to stand for that honeymoon trip!
Just think I"

"If the worst comes to the worst. Cap, I don't
care for anything but the games. If we get in the
lead and stay there I'll stand for anything. . . .
Couldn't the gang be coaxed or bought off to let
the Bube and Nan alone f"

"Not on your life I There ain't enough love or
money on earth to stop them. It'll be awful.
Mind, I'm not responsible. Don't you go holdin'
me responsible. In all nxy years of baseball I
never went on a trip with a bride in the game.

72 THE REDHEADED OUTFIELD

That's new on me, an' I never heard of it. I'd be
bad enongh if he wasn't a mbe an' if she wasn't
a crazy girl-fan an' a flirt to boot, an' with half
the boys in love with her, bnt as it is "

Spears gave np and, gravely shaking his head,
he left me. I spent a little while in sober reflec-
tion, and finally came to the conclusion that, in my
desperate ambition to win the pennant, I wonld
have taken half a dozen rube pitchers and their
baseball-made brides on the trip, if by so doing
I conld increase the percentage of games won.
Nevertheless, I wanted to postpone the Bnbe's
wedding if it was possible, and I went out to see
Milly and asked her to help ns. Bnt for once in
her life Milly turned traitor.

** Connie, you don't want to postpone it. Why,
how perfectly lovely I . . . Mrs. Stringer will go
on that trip and Mrs. Bogart. . • . Connie, I'm
going too I ' '

She actually jumped up and down in glee. That
was the woman in her. It takes a wedding to get
a woman. I remonstrated and pleaded and com-
manded, all to no purpose. Milly intended to go
on that trip to see the games, and the fun, and the
honeymoon.

She coaxed so hard that I yielded. Thereupon
she called up Mrs. Stringer on the telephone, and
of course found that young woman just as eager
as she was. For my part, I threw anxiety and
care to the four winds, and decided to be as happy

THE RUBE'S HONEYMOON 73

as any of fhem. The pennant was mine ! Some-
thing kept ringing that in my ears. With the
Bnbe working his iron arm for the edification of

his prond Nancy Brown, there was extreme like-
lihood of divers shnt-onts and humiliating defeats
for some Eastern League teams.

How well I calculated became a matter of base-
ball history during that last week of June. We
won six straight gamies, three of which fell to the
Bube's credit. His opponents scored four runs
in the three games, against the nineteen we made.
Upon July 1, Badboume beat Providence and
Cairns won the second game. We now had a
string of eight victories. Sunday we rested, and
Monday was the Fourth, with morning and after-
noon games with Buffalo.

Upon the morning of the Fourth, I looked for
the Eube at the hotel, but could not find him. He
did not show up at the grounds when the other
boys did, and I began to worry. It was the Bube 's
turn to pitch and we were neck and neck with Buf-
falo for first place. If we won both games we
would go ahead of our rivals. So I was all on
edge, and kept going to the dressing-room to see
if the Eube had arrived. He came, finally, when
all the boys were dressed, and about to go out for
practice. He had on a new suit, a tailor-made suit
at that, and he looked fine. There was about him
a kind of strange radiance. He stated simply
that he had arrived late because he had just been

74 THE REDHEADED OUTFIELD

married. Before congratulations were out of onr
months, he tnmed to me.

**Con, I want to pitch both games today,'' he
said.

'*WhatI Say, Whit, Buffalo is on the card to-
day and we are only three points behind thenL
If we win both we'll be leading the league once
more. I don't know abont pitching yen both
games. ' '

**I reckon we'll be in the lead tonight then,"
he replied, **for I'll win them both."

I was about to reply when Dave, the ground-
keeper, called me to the door, saying there was a
man to see me. I went out, and there stood Mor-
risey, manager of the Chicago American League
team. We knew each other well and exchanged
greetings.

**Con, I dropped off to see you about this new
pitcher of yours, the one they call the Bube. I
want to see him work. I've heard he's pretty
fast. How about itt"

**Wait — ^till you see him pitch," I replied. I
could scarcely get that much out, for Morrisey's
presence meant a great deal and I did not want
to betray my elation.

**Any strings on him?" queried the big league
manager, sharply.

**Well, Morrisey, not exactly. I can give you
the first call. You'll have to bid high, though.
Just wait till you see him work"

THE RUBERS HONEYMOON 75

•'I'm glad to hear that. My scout wa8 over
here watching him pitch and says he's a wonder/'

What luck it was that Morrisey should have
come upon this day! I could hardly contain my-
self. Almost I began to spend the money I would
get for selling the Bube to the big league noan-
ager. We took seats in the grand stand, as Mor-
risey did not want to be seen by any players, and
I stayed there with him until the gong sounded.
There was a big attendance. I looked all over
the stand for Nan, but she was lost in the gay
crowd. But when I went down to the bench I
saw her up in my private box with Milly. It took
no second glance to see that Nan Brown was a
bride and glorying in the fact.

Then, in the absorption of the game, I became
oblivious to Milly and Nan ; the noisy crowd ; the
giant fire-crackers and the smoke ; to the presence
of Morrisey; to all except the Bube and my team
and their opponents. Fortunately for my hopes,
the game opened with characteristic Worcester
dash. Little McCall doubled, Ashwell drew his
base on four wide pitches, and Stringer drove the
ball over the right-field fence — ^three runs I

Three runs were enough to win that game. Of
all the exhibitions of pitching with which the Bube
had favored us, this one was the finest It was
perhaps not so much his marvelous speed and
unhittable curves that made the game one mem-
orable in the annals of pitching; it was his per-

76 THE EEDHEADED OUTFIELD

feet control in the placing of balls, in the catting
of comers ; in his absolute implacable mastery of
the situation. Buffalo was unable to find himi at
all. The gam^ was swift, short, decisive, with'
the score 5 to in our favor. But the score did
not teU all of the Bube's work that morning. He
shut out Buffalo without a hit, or a scratch, the
first no-hit, no-run game of the year. He gave
no base on balls ; not a Buffalo player got to first
base ; only one fly went to the outfield.

For once I forgot Milly after a game, and I
hurried to find Morrisey, and carried him off to
have dinner with me.

'* Your rube is a wonder, and that's a fact,'* he
fiaid to me several times. ''Where on earth did
you get himt Connelly, he's my meat. Do you
imderstandt Can you let me have him right
now?"

**No, Morrisey, IVe got the pennant to win
first. Then ITl sell him.''

''How much! Do you hearf How mucht"
Morrisey hammered the table with his fist and
his eyes gleamed.

Carried away as I was by his vehemence, I was
yet able to calculate shrewdly, and I decided to
name a very high price, from which I could coma
down and still make a splendid deal.

*'How mxicht" demanded Morrisey.

*'Five thousand dollars,'' I replied, and gulped
when I got the words out.

THE BUBE'S HONEYMOON 77

Morrisey never batted an eye.

** Waiter, quick, pen and ink and imper!^^

Presently my hand, none too firm, was signingr
my name to a contract whereby I was to sell my
pitcher for five thousand dollars at the close of
the cnrrent season. I never saw a man look so
pleased as Morrisey when he folded that contract
and pnt it in his pocket. He bade me good-bye
and hurried off to catch a train, and he never
knew the Bnbe had pitched the great game on his
wedding day.

That afternoon before a crowd that had to be
roped oif the diamond, I pnt the Enbe against
the Bisons. How well he showed the baseball
knowledge he had assimilated! He changed his
style in that second game. He nsed a slow ball
and wide carves and took things easy. He made
Buffalo hit the ball and when runners got on
bases once more let out his speed and held them
down. He relied upon the players behind him
and they were equal to the occasion.

It was a totally different game from that of
the morning, and perhaps one more suited to the
pleasure of the audience. There was plenty of
hard hitting, sharp fielding and good base run-
ning, and the game was close and exciting up to
the eighth, when Mullaney's triple gave us two
runs, and a lead that was not headed. To the
deafening roar of the bleachers the Bube walked

78 THE REDHEADED OUTFIELD

off the field, having pitched Worcester into first
place in the pennant race.

That night the boys planned their first job on
the Rube. We had ordered a special Pullman
for travel to Toronto, and when I got to the depot
in the morning, the Pullman was a white flutter-
ing mass of satin ribbons. Also, there was a
brass band, and thousands of baseball fans, and
barrels of old foot-gear. The Rube and Nan
arrived in a cab and were immediately mobbed.
The crowd roared, the band played, the engine
whistled, the bell clanged; and the air was full
of confetti and slippers, and showers of rice like
hail pattered everywhere. A somewhat dishev-
elled bride and groom boarded the Pullman and
breathlessly hid in a state room. The train
started, and the crowd gave one last rousing
cheer. Old Spears yelled from; the back plat-
form:

** Fellers, an^ fans, you neednH worry none
about leavin ' the Rube an ' his bride to the tender
mercies of the gang. A hundred years from now
people will talk about this honeymoon baseball
trip. Wait till we come back — an ' say, jest to put
you wise, no matter what else happens, we're
comin' back in first place!''

It was surely a merry party in that Pullman.
The bridal couple emerged from their hiding place
and held a sort of reception in which the Rube
appeared shy and frightened, and Nan resembled

THE RUBE'S HONEYMOON 79

a joyous, flnttering bird in gray. I did not see
if she kissed every man on the team, but she kissed
me as if she had been wanting to do it for ages.
Milly kissed the Bnbe, and so did the other women^
to his infinite embarrassment. Nan's effect npon
that crowd was most singular. She was sweet-
ness and caprice and joy personified.

"We settled down presently to something ai>*
proaching order, and I, for one, with very keen
ears and alert eyes, because I did not want to
miss anything.

"I see the lambs a-gambolinV' observed Mc-
Call, in a voice louder than was necessary to con-
vey his meaning to Mullaney, his partner in the
seat.

"Yes, it do seem as if there was joy aboundin'
hereabouts," replied Mul with fervor.

"It's more spring-time than summer," said
Ashwell, "an' everything in nature is runnin' in
pairs. There are the sheep an' the cattle an' the
birds. I see two kingfishers fishin' over here.
An' there's a couple of honey-bees makin' honey,.
Oh, honey, an' by George, if there ain't two but-
terflies foldin' their wings round each other. See
the dandelions kissin' in the field!"

Then the staid Captain Spears spoke up with
an appearance of sincerity and a tone that was
nothing short of remarkable.

"Beggie, see the sunshine asleep upon yon
bank. Ain't it lovely T An' that white cloud

80 THE REDHEADED OUTFIELD

sailin' thither amid the blue — ^how spontaneonB I
Joy is a-broad o'er all this boo-tifnl land today
— Oh, yes I An' love's wings hover o'er the little
lambs an' the bnllfrogs in the pond an' the dicky
birds in the trees. What sweetness to lie in the
grass, the lap of bonnteons earth, eatin' apples in
the Garden of Eden, an' chasin' away the snakes
an' dreamin' of Thee, Sweet-h-e-a-r-t '*

Spears was singing when he got so far and
there was no telling what he might have done if
Mnllaney^ nnable to stand the agony, had not
jabbed a pin in him. Bnt that only made way for
the efforts tof the other boys, each of whom tried
to ontdo the other in poking fnn at the Bnbe and
Nan, n?he big pitcher was too gloriously happy
to note much of what went on around him, but
when it dawned upon him he grew red and white
by turns.

Nan, however, was more than equal to the occa-
sion. Presently she smaled at Spears, such a
smile ! The captain looked as if he had just x)ar-
taken of an intoxicating wine. With a heightened
color in her cheeks and a dangerous flash in her
roguish eyes. Nan favored McCall with a look,
which was as much as to say that she remembered
him with a dear sadness. She made eyes at every
fellow in the car, and then bringing back her gaze
to the Bube, as if glorying in comparison, she
nestled her curly black head on his shoulder. He
gently tried to move her ; but it was not possible.

THE ETJBE'S HONEYMOON 81

Nan knew how to meet the ridicule of half a dozen
old lovers. One by one they buried themselves
in newspapers, and finally McCall, for once utterly
beaten, showed a white feather, and sank back
, out of sight behind his seat.

The boys did not recover from that shock until
late in the afternoon. As it was a physical im-
X>ossibility for Nan to rest her head all day upon
her husband's broad shoulder, the boys toward
dinner time canve out of their jealous trance. I
heard them plotting something. When dinner
was called, about half of my party, including the
bride and groom, went at once into the dining-car.
Time there flew by swiftly. And later, when we
were once more in our Pullman, and I had gotten
interested in a game of cards with Milly and
Stringer and his wife, the Bube came marching
up to me with a very red face.

^'Con, I reckon some of the boys have stolen
my — our grips,*' said he.

"What!'' I asked, blankly.

He explained that during his absence in the
dining-car somieone had entered his stateroom
and stolen his grip and Nan 's. I hastened at once
to aid the Bube in his search. The boys swore
by everything imder and beyond the sun they had
not seen the grips; they appeared very much
grieved at the loss and pretended to help in
searching the Pullman. At last, with the assist-
ance of a porter, we discovered the missing grips

82 THE REDHEADED OUTFIELD

in an tipper berth. The Rube carried them off to
his stateroom and we knew soon from his nncomh
plimentary remarks that the contents of the suit-
cases had been mixed and manhandled. But he
did not hunt for the jokers.

We arrived at Toronto before daylight next
morning, and remained in the Pullman until seven
o 'dock. When we got out, it was discovered that
the Rube and Nan had stolen a march upon us.
We traced them to the hotel, and found them at
breakfast. After breakfast we formed a merry
sight-seeing party and rode all over the city.

That afternoon, when Raddy let Toronto down
with three hits and the boys played a magnificent
game behind him, and we won 7 to 2, I knew at
last and for certain that the Worcester team had
come into its own again. Then next day Cairns
won a close, exciting game, and following that, on
the third day, the matchless Rube toyed with the
Torontos. Eleven straight games won ! I was in
the clouds, and never had I seen so beautiful a
light as shone in Milly's eyes.

From that day The Honeymoon Trip of the
Worcester Baseball Club, as the newspapers
heralded it — was a triumphant march. We won
two out of three games at Montreal, broke even
with the hard-fighting Bisons, took three straight
from Rochester, and won one and tied one out of
three with Hartford. It would have been wonder-
ful ball playing for a team to play on hon)^

THE EUBE'S HONEYMOON 83

grounds and we were doing the fnll circuit of
the league.

Spears had called the trim when he said the
trip would be a hummer. Nan Hurtle had brought
us wonderful luck.

But the tricks they played on Whit and his girl-
fan bride !

Ashwell, who was a capital actor, disguised
himself as a conductor and pretended to try to
eject Whit and Nan from the train, urging that
love-making was not i)ermitted. Some of the
team hired a clever young woman to hunt the
Bube up at the hotel, and claim old acquaintance
with him. Poor Whit almost collapsed when the
young woman threw her arms about his neck just
as Nan entered the parlor. Upon the instant Nan
became wild as a little tigress, and it took much
explanation and eloquence to reinstate Whit in
her affections.

Another time Spears, the wily old fox, suc-
ceeded in detaining Nan on the way to the station,
and the two missed the train. At first the Bube
laughed with the others, but when Stringer re-
marked that he had noticed a growing attachment
between Nan and Spears, my great pitcher ex-
perienced the first pangs of the green-eyed mon-
ster. We had to hold him to keep him from jump-
ing from the train, and it took Milly and Mrs.
Stringer to soothe hiuL I had to wire back to
Bochester for a special train for Spears and Nan,

84 THE BEDHEADED OUTFIELD

and even then we had to play half a game without
the services of our captain.

So far npon our trip I had been fortunate in
securing comfortable rooms and the best of trans-
I)ortation for my party. At Hartford, however,
I encountered difficulties. I could not get a spe-
cial Pullman, and the sleeper we entered already
had a number of occupants. After the ladies of
my party had been assigned to berths, it was
necessary for some of the boys to sleep double in
tipper berths.

It was late when we got aboard, the berths were
already made up, and soon we had all retired.
In the morning very early I was awakened by a
disturbance. It soimded like a squeal. I heard
an astonished exclamation, another squeal, the
pattering of little feet, then hoarse uproar of
laughter from the ball players in the upper berths^
Following that came low, excited conversation be-
tween the porter and somebody, then an angry
snort from the Bube and the thud of his heavy
feet in the aisle. What took place after that was
guess-work for me. But I gathered from the
roars and bawls that the Bube was after some of
the boys. I poked my head between the curtains
and saw him digging into the berths.

** Where's McCallt'' he yelled.

Mac was nowhere in that sleeper, judging from
the vehement denials. But the Bube kept on dig-
ging and prodding in the upper berths.

THE RUBERS HONEYMOON 85

"I*m a-goin* to lick yon, Mac, so I reckon you'd
better show np," shonted the Bnbe.

The big fellow was mad as a hornet. When he
got to me he grasped me with his great fence-
rail splitting hands and I cried ont with pain.

**Sayl Whit, let npl Mac's not here. . • .
What's wrong f

*'ni show you when I find him.*' And tKe
Rube stalked on down the aisle, a tragically comic
figure in his pajamas. In his search for Mac he
pried into several upper berths that contained
occupants who were not ball players, and these
protested in affright. Then the Rube began to
investigate the lower berths. A row of heads pro-
truded in a bobbing line from between the cur-
tains of the upper berths.

'*Here, you Indian! Don't you look in there!
That's my wife's berth I" yelled Stringer.

Bogart, too, evinced great excitement.

"Hurtle, keep out of lower eight or IT! kill
you," he shouted.

What the Rube might have done there was no
telling, but as he grasped a curtain, he was inter-
rupted by a shriek from some woman assuredly
not of our party.

"Get out! you horrid wretch! Help! Porter!
Help! Conductor!"

Instantly there was a deafening tumult in the
car. When it had subsided somewhat, and I con-
sidered I would be safe, I descended from my

86 THE BEDHEADED OUTFIELD

berth and made my way to the dressing room.
Sprawled over the leather seat was the Bnbe pomr
melling McCall with hearty good will. I would
have interfered, had it not been for Mac's de-
meanor. He was half f rightened, half angry, and
ntterly nnable to defend himself or even resist,
because he was laughing, too.

* ' Dog-gone it I Whit — ^I didn 't— do it ! I swear
it was Spears! Stop thnmpin' me now — or III
get sore. . . . Ton hear me! It wasn't me, I tell
you. Cheese it I*'

For all his protesting Mac received a good
thumping, and I doubted not in the least that he
deserved it. The wonder of the affair, however,
was the fact that no one appeared to know what
had made the Bube so furious. The porter would
not tell, and Mac was strangely reticent, though
his smile was one to make a fellow exceedingly
sure something out of the ordinary had befallen.
It was not until I was having breakfast in Provi-
dence that I learned the true cause of Bube's
conduct, and Milly confided it to me, insisting
on strict confidence.

"I promised not to tell,'' she said. "Now you
promise you 11 never tell."

**Well, Connie," went on Milly, when I had
promised, "it was the funniest thing yet, but it
was horrid of McCall. You see, the Bube had
upper seven and Nan had lower seven. Early
this morning, about daylight. Nan awoke very

THE RUBE'S HONEYMOON 87

tliinty and got up to get a drink. Dnring her
absence, probably, bnt any way some time last
night, McOall changed the nnmber on her cur-
tain, and when Nan came back to nnmber
seven of course she almost got in the wrong
berth/'

'*No wonder the Eube punched him;!*' I de-
clared. "I wish we were safe home. Some-
thing 11 happen yet on this trip."

I was faithful to my promise to Milly, but the
secret leaked out somewhere; perhaps Mac told
it, and before the gamie that day all the players
knew it. The Bube, having recovered his good
humor, minded it not in the least. He could not
have felt ill-will for any length of time. Every-
thing seemed to get back into smooth running
order, and the Honeymoon Trip bade fair to wind
up beautifully.

But, somehow or other, and about something
unknown to the rest of us, the Bube and Nan
quarreled. It was their first quarrel. Milly and
I tried to patch it up but failed.

We lost the first game to Providence and won
the second. The next day, a Saturday, was the
last game of the trip, and it was Bnbe's turn to
pitch. Several times during the first two days
the Bube and Nan about half made np their
qnarrel, only in the end to fall deeper into it.
Then the last straw came in a foolish move on the
part of wilful Nan. She happened to meet Hen-

88 THE REDHEADED OUTFIELD

dersoiiy her former admirer, and in a flash she
took np her flirtation with him where she had left
off.

**Don^t go to the game with him, Nan,'' I
pleaded. **It's a silly thing for yon to do. Of
course you don't mean anything, except to tor-
ment Whit. But cut it out. The gang will make
him miserable and well lose the game. There's
no telling what might happen."

"I'm supremely indifferent to what happens,"
she replied, with a rebellious toss of her black
head. **I hope Whit gets beaten."

She went to the game with Henderson and sat
in the grand stand, and the boys spied them out
and told the Bube. He did not believe it at first,
but finally saw them, looked deeply hurt and of-
fended, and then grew angry. But the gong,
fiounding at that mom^ent, drew his attention to
his business of the day, to pitch.

His work that day reminded me of the first
game he ever pitched for me, upon which occa-
sion Captain Spears got the best out of him by
making him angry. For several innings Provi-
dence was helpless before his delivery. Then
something happened that showed me a crisis was
near. A wag of a fan yelled from the bleachers.

"Honeymoon Bube I"

This cry was taken up by the delighted fans
and it rolled around the field. But the Bube
pitched on, harder than ever. Then the knowing

THE EUBE'S HONEYMOON 89

bleacherite who had started the cry changed it
somewhat.

** Nanny's Enbel'' he yelled.

This, too, went the rounds, and still the Enbe,
thongh red in the face, preserved his temper and
his pitching control. All would have been well
if End Wiler, comedian of the Providence team,
had not hit upon a way to rattle Enbe.

"Nanny's Goat!'' he shouted from the coach-
ing lines. Every Providence player took it
Up.

The Eube was not proof against that. He
yelled so jBercely at them, and glared so furiously,
and towered so formidably, that they ceased for
the moment. Then he let drive with his fast
straight ball and hit the first Providence batter
in the ribs. His comrades had to help him to the
bench. The Eube hit the next batter on the leg,
and judging from the crack of the ball, I fancied
that player would walk lame for several days.
The Eube tried to hit the next batter and sent
him to first on balls. Thereafter it became a;
dodging contest with honors about equal between
pitcher and batters. The Providence players
stormed and the bleachers roared* But I would
not take the Eube out and the game went on with
the Eube forcing in runs.

With the score a tie, and three men on bases
one of the players on the bench again yelled:
^'Nanny's Goat!''

90 THE BEDHEADED OUTFIELD

Straight as a string the Bube shot the ball at
this fellow and bounded after it. The crowd rose
in an nproar. The base runners began to score.
I left my bench and ran across the space, but not
in time to catch the Bnbe. I saw him hit two or
three of the Providence men. Then the police-
men got to him, and a real fight bronght the big
andience into the stamping melee. Before the
Bnbe was collared I saw at least four bine-coats
on the grass.

The game broke np, and the crowd spilled it
self in streams over the field. Excitement ran
high. I tried to force my way into the mass to
get at the Bube and the officers, but this was im-
possible. I feared the Bube would be taken from
the officers and treated with violence, so I waited
with the surging crowd, endeavoring to get
nearer. Soon we were in the street, and it seemed
as if all the stands had emptied their yelling occu-
pants.

A trolley car came along down the street, split-
ting the mass of people and driving them back.
A dozen policemen summarily bundled the Bube
upon the rear end of the car. Some of these
officers boarded the car, and some remained in
the street to beat off the vengeful fans.

I saw some one thrust forward a frantic young
woman. The officers stopped her, then suddenly
helped her on the car, just as I started. I recog-
nized Nan. She gripped the Bube with both

THE BUBE'S HONEYMOON 91

hands and turned a white, fearful face upon the
angry crowd.

The Bube stood in the grasp of his wife and
the policemen, and he looked like a ruffled lion.
He shook his big fist and bawled in far-reaching
voice :

"I can lick you all I''

To my infinite relief, the trolley gathered mo-
mentum and safely passed out of danger. The
last thing I made out was Nan pressing close to
the Bube's side. That moment saw their recon-
ciliation and my joy that it was the end of the
Bube's Honeymoon.

THE ETTBE'S WATERLOO

It was about the sixth inning that I suspected
the Bube of weakening. For that matter he had
not pitched anything resembling his usual brand
of baseball. But the Bube had developed into
such a wonder in the box that it took time for
his let-down to dawn upon me. Also it took a tip
from Baddy, who sat with me on the bench.

"Con, the Bube isn^t himself today, '^ said Bad-
bourne. "His mind^s not on the game. He seems
hurried and flustered, too. If he doesn't explode
presently, I'm a dub at callin' the turn.'*

Baddy was the best judge of a pitcher's condi-
tion, physical or mental, in the Eastern League.
It was a Saturday and we were on the road and
finishing up a series with the Bochesters. Each
team had won and lost a game, and, as I was
climbing close to the leaders in the pennant race,
I wanted the third and deciding game of that
Bochester series. The usual big Saturday crowd
was in attendance, noisy, demonstrative and
exacting.

93

94 THE REDHEADED OUTFIELD

In this sixth inning the first man np for
Bochester had flied to McCall. Then had come
the two plays significant of Rube's weakening.
He had hit one batter and walked another. This
was sufficient, considering the score was three
to one in our favor, to bring the audience to its
feet with a howUng, stamping demand for runs.

** Spears is wise all right,'* said Raddy.

I watched the foxy old captain walk over to the
Rube and talk to him while he rested, a reassuring
hand on the pitcher's shoulder. The crowd yelled
its disapproval and Umpire Bates called out
sharply :

"Spears, get back to the bag I"

**Now, Mister Umpire, ain't I hurrin' all I
canf " queried Spears as hd leisurely ambled back
to first.

The Rube tossed a long, damp welt of hair back
from his big brow and nervously toed the rubber.
I noted that he seemed to forget the runners on
bases and delivered the ball without glancing at
either bag. Of course this resulted in a double
steal. The ball went wild — almost a wild pitch.

"Steady up, old man,'* called Gregg between
the yells of the bleachers. He held his mitt square
over the plate for the Rube to pitch to. Again
the long twirler took his swing, and again the
ball went wild. Clancy had the Rube in the hole
now and the situation began to grow serious.
The Rube did not take half his usual deliberation,

THE RUBE'S WATERLOO 95

and of fhe next two pitches one of them was a
ball and the other a strike by grace of the um-
pire's generosity. Clancy rapped the next one,
an absnrdly slow pitch for the Rube to nse, and
both runners scored to the shrill tune of the happy
bleachers.

I saw Spears shake his head and look toward
the bench. It was plain what that meant.

**Raddy, I ought to take the Rube out,'' I said,
"but whom can I put int You worked yester-
day — Cairns' arm is sore. It's got to be nursed.
And Henderson, that ladies ' man I just signed, is
not in uniform."

**I11 go in," replied Raddy, instantly.

"Not on your lif e. " I had as hard a time keei>-
ing Radboume from overworking as I had in
getting enough work out of some other players.
"I guess 111 let the Rube take his medicine. I
hate to lose this game, but if we have to, we can
stand it I'm curious, anyway, to see what's the
matter with the Rube. Maybe hell settle down
presently."

I made no sign that I had noticed Spears' ap-
peal to the bench. And my aggressive players,
no doubt seeing the situation as I saw it, sang out
their various calls of cheer to the Rube and of
defiance to their antagonists. Clancy stole off
first base so far that the Rube, catching some-
body's warning too late, made a balk and the
mnpire sent the runner on to second. The Rube

96 THE BEDHEADED OUTFIELD

now plainly showed pamfnl evidences of being
rattled.

He conld not locate the plate without slowing
up and when he did that a Bochester player wal-
loped the ball. Pretty soon he pitched as if he
did not care, and but for the fast fielding of the
team behind him the Bochesters would have
scored more than the eight runs it got. When the
Bube came in to the bench I asked him if he was
sick and at first he said he was and then that
he was not. So I let him pitch the remaining
innings, as the game was lost anyhow, and we
walked off the field a badly beaten team.

That night we had to hurry from the hotel to
catch a train for Worcester and we had dinner
in the dining-car. Several of my players' wives
had come over from Worcester to meet us, and
were in the dining-car when I entered. I observed
a pretty girl sitting at one of the tables with
my new pitcher, Henderson.

"Say, Mac,*' I said to McCall, who was with
me, **is Henderson married f

"Naw, but he looks like he wanted to be. He
I was in the grand stand today with that girL''

''WhoissheT Oh 1 a little peach!"

A second glance at Henderson's companion
brought this compliment from me involun-
tarily.

"Con, you 11 get it as bad as the rest of this
mushy bunch of ball players. We're all stuck on

THE RUBE'S WATERLOO 97

that kid. But since Henderson came she's been
a frost to all of ns. An' it's pat the Rube in the
dumps. '^

*'Who's the girlf '^

"That's Nan Brown. She lives in Worcester
an' is the craziest girl fan I ever seen. Flirt I
Well, she's got them all beat. Somebody intro-
duced the Rube to her. He has been mooney ever
since.''

That was enough to whet my curiosity, and I
favored Miss Brown with more than one glance
during dinner. When we returned to the parlor
car I took advantage of the opportunity and re-
marked to Henderson that he might introduce
his manager. He complied, but not with amiable
grace.

So I chatted with Nan Brown, and studied her.
She was a pretty, laughing, coquettish little minx
and quite baseball mad. I had met many girl
fans, but none so enthusiastic as Nan. But she
was wholesome and sincere, and I liked her.

Before turning in I sat down beside the Rube.
He was very quiet and his face did not encourage
company. But that did not stop me.

** Hello, Whit; have a smoke before you go to
bed!" I asked cheerfully.

He scarcely heard me and made no move to
take the proffered cigar. All at once it struck
me that the rustic simpUcity which had character-
ized him had vanished.

98 THE REDHEADED OUTFIELD

**Whit, old fellow, what was wrong today! '^
I asked, quietly, with my hand on his arm.

**Mr. Connelly, I want my release^ I want to
go back to Bickettsville/' he replied hur*
riedly.

For the space of a few seconds I did some tall
thinking. The situation suddenly became grave.
I saw the pennant for the Worcesters fading, dim-
ming.

**You want to go home?*' I began slowly.
**Why, Whit, I can't keep you. I wouldn't try if
you didn't want to stay. But 111 tell you con-
fidentially, if you leave me at this stage I'm
ruined."

** How's thatt" he inquired, keenly looking at
me.

**Well, I can't win the x>ennant without you. If
I do win it there's a big bonus for me. I can
buy the house I want and get married this fall
if I capture the flag. You've met MiUy. You can
imagine what your pitching means to me this
year. That's all."

He averted his face and looked out of the win-
dow. His big jaw quivered.

"If it's that— why. 111 stay, I reckon," he
said huskily.

That moment bound Whit Hurtle and Frank
Connelly into a far closer relation than the one
between player and manager. I sat silent for a
while, listening to the drowsy talk of the other

THE EUBE'S WATERLOO 99

players and the msh and roar of the train as it
sped on into the night*

"Thank you, old chap,'^ I replied. **It would-
n't have been like yon to throw me down at this
stage. Whit, you're in troubled

"Yes.''

"Can I help you — ^in any way?"

"I reckon not."

"Don't be too sure of that. I'm a pretty wise
guy, if I do say it myself. I might be able to do
as much for you as you're going to do for me."

The sight of his face convinced me that I had
taken a wrong tack. It also showed me how deep
Whit's trouble really was. I bade him good
night and went to my berth, where sleep did not
soon visit me. A saucy, sparkling-eyed woman
barred Whit Hurtle's baseball career at its
threshold.

Women are just as fatal to ball players as to
men in any other walk of life. I had seen a strong
athlete grow palsied just at a scornful slight. It's
a great world, and the women run it. So I lay
awake racking my brains to outwit a pretty dis-
organizer; and I plotted for her sake. Married,
she would be out of mischief. For Whit's sake,
for Milly's sake, for mine, all of which collectively
meant for the sake of the pennant, this would be
the solution of the problem.

I decided to take Milly into my confidence, and
finally on the strength of that I got to sleep. In

100 THE REDHEADED OUTFIELD

the morning I went to my hotel, had breakfast,
attended to my mail, and then boarded a car to go
out to Milly^s house. She was waiting for me on
the porch, dressed as I liked to see her, in bine
and white, and she wore violets that matched the
color of her eyes.

** Hello, Connie. I haven't seen a morning
pai)er, bnt I know from yonr face that yon lost
the Rochester series,'* said Milly, with a gay
langh.

**I guess yes. The Bube blew up, and if we
don't play a pretty smooth game, young lady,
hell never come down.'*

Then I told her.

**Why, Connie, I knew long ago. Haven't you
seen the change in him before this!"

"What changed I asked blankly.

"You are a man. Well, he was a gawky,
slouchy, shy farmer boy when he came to us. Of
course the city life and popularity began to in-
fluence him. Then he met Nan. She made the
Bube a worshipper. I first noticed a change in
his clothes. He blossomed out in a new suit,
white negligee, neat tie and a stylish straw hat.
Then it was evident he was making heroic strug-
gles to overcome his awkwardness. It was plain
he was studying and copying the other boys.
He's wonderfully improved, but still shy. Hell
always be shy. Connie, Whit's a fine fellow, too
^ood for Nan Brown."

THE EUBE'S WATERLOO 101

"But, MiUy," I interrupted, "the Bnbe's hard
hii Why is he too good for herf

"Nan is a natural-bom flirt,'* Milly replied.
"She can't help it. I'm afraid Whit has a slim
chance. Nan may not see deep enough to learn
his fine qualities. I fancy Nan tired quickly of
him, though the one time I saw them together
she appeared to like him very well. This new
pitcher of yours, Henderson, is a handsome fellow
and smooth. Whit is losing to him. Nan likes
flash, flattery, excitement.'*

"McCall told me the Bube had been down in
the mouth ever since Henderson joined the team.
Milly, I don't like Henderson a whole lot. He's
not in the Bube's class as a pitcher. What am I
going to do? Lose the pennant and a big slice
of purse money just for a pretty little flirt?"

"Oh, Connie, it's not so bad as that. Whit will
come around all right."

"He won't unless we can pull some wires. I've
got to help him win Nan Brown. What do you
think of that for a manager's job? I guess maybe
winning i)ennants doesn't call for diplomatic
genius and cunning I But 111 hand them a few
tricks before I lose. My first move will be to give
Henderson his release.

I left Milly, as always, once more able to make
light of discouragements and difficulties.

Monday I gave Henderson his unconditional
release. He celebrated the occasion by verifying

102 THE REDHEADED OUTFIELD

certain rumors I had heard from other managers.
He got drunk. But he did not leave town, and 1
heard that he was negotiating with Providence
for a place on that team.

Badboume pitched one of his gilt-edged games
that afternoon against Hartford and we won.
And Milly sat in the grand stand, having con-
trived by cleverness to get a seat next to Nan
Brown. Milly and I were pla3dng a vastly deeper
game than baseball — ^a game with hearts. But we
were playing it with honest motive, for the good
of all concerned, we believed, and on the square.
I sneaked a look now and then up into the grand
stand. Milly and Nan appeared to be getting on
famously. It was certain that Nan was flushed
and excited, no doubt consciously proud of being
seen with my affianced. After the game I chanced
to meet them on their way out. Milly winked at
me, which was her sign that all was working beau-
tifully.

I hunted up the Bube and bundled him off to
the hotel to take dinner with me. At first he was
glum, but after a while he brightened up some-
what to my persistent cheer and friendliness.
Then we went out on the hotel balcony to
6moke, and there I made my play.

"Whit, I'm pulling a stroke for you. Now listen
and don't be offended. I know what's put you off
your feed, because I was the same way when Milly
had me guessing. You've lost your head over

THE RUBE'S WATERLOO 103

Nan Brown. That's not so terrible, though I
daresay you think it's a catastrophe. Because
youVe quit YouVe shown a yellow streak.
You've lain down.

**My boy, that isn't the way to win a girL
You've got to scrap. Milly told me yesterday
how she had watched your love affairs with Nan,
and how she thought you had given up just when
things might have come your way. Nan is a little
flirt, but she's all right. What's more, she was
getting fond of you. Nan is meanest to the man
she likes best. The way to handle her, Whit, is
to master her. Play high and mighty. Get
tragical. Then grab her up in your arms. I tell
you, Whit, it 11 all come your way if you only
keep your nerve. I'm your friend and so is Milly.
We're going out to her house presently — and Nan
will be there."

The Rube drew a long, deep breath and held out
his hand. I sensed another stage in the evolution
of Whit Hurtle.

**I reckon I've taken baseball coachin'," he said
presently, **an' I don't see why I can't take some
other kind. I 'm only a rube, an ' things come hard
for me, but I'm a-learnin'."

It was about dark when we arrived at the house.

"Hello, Connie. You're late. Good evening,
Mr. Hurtle. Come right in. You've met Miss
Nan Brown? Oh, of course; how stupid of me!"

It was a trying moment for Milly and me. A

104 THE EEDHEADED OUTFIELD

little pallor showed under the Bnbe's tan, but he
was more composed than I had expected. Nan
got np from the piano. She was all in white and
deliciously pretty. She gave a quick, glad start
of surprise. What a relief that was to my
troubled mind I Everything had depended upon
a real honest liking for Whit, and she had it.

More than once I had been proud of Milly's
cleverness, but this night as hostess and an ao-
complice she won my everlasting admiration.
She contrived to give the impression that Whit
was a frequent visitor at her home and very wel-
come. She brought out his best points, and in her
skillful hands he lost embarrassment and awk-
wardness. Before the evening was over Nan re-
garded Whit with different eyes, and she never
dreamed that everything had not come about
naturally. Then Milly somehow got me out on
the porch, leaving Nan and Whit together.

"Milly, you're a marvel, the best and sweetest
ever,'' I whispered. **We're going to win. It's
a cinch."

**Well, Connie, not that — exactly," she whis-
I>ered back demurely. "But it looks hopeful."

I could not help hearing what was said in th€f
parlor.

"Now I can roast you," Nan was saying, archly.
She had switched back to her favorite baseball
vernacular. "You pitched a swell game last
Saturday in Bochester, didn't yout Not! You

THE EUBE'S WATERLOO 105

liad no steam, no control, and you conldn't have
curved a saucer/'

"Nan, what could you expects was the cool
reply. "You sat up in the stand with your hand-
some friend. I reckon I couldn't pitch. I just
gave the game away."

"Whit I— Whit I "

Then I whispered to Milly that if might be dis-
creet for us to move a little way from the vicinity.

It was on the second day afterward that I got
a chance to talk to Nan. She reached the grounds
early, before Milly arrived, and I found her in the
grand stand. The Bube was down on the card to
pitch and when he started to warm up Nan said
confidently that he would shut out Hartford that
afternoon.

"I'm sorry, Nan, but you're way off. We'd do
well to win at all, let alone get a shutout."

"You're a fine manager!" she retorted, hotly^
••Why won't we win!"

"Well, the Rube's not in good form. The
Bube "

"Stop calling him that horrid name."

"Whit's not in shape. He's not right. He's
ill or something is wrong. I'm worried sick about
him."

"Why — ^Mr. Connelly!" exclaimed Nan. She
tamed quickly toward me.

I crowded on full canvas of gloom to my already
long face.

106 THE REDHEADED OUTFIELD

'^I'm serious, Nan. The lad's off, somehow.
Pe's in magnificent physical trim, but he can't
keep his mind on the game. He has lost his head.
IVe talked with him, reasoned with him, all to no
good. He only goes down deeper in the dumps.
Something is terribly wrong with him, and if he
doesn't brace, 111 have to release "

Miss Nan Brown suddenly lost a little of her
rich bloouL "Oh I you wouldn't — ^you couldn't
release him!"

"IT have to if he doesn't brace. It means a
lot to me. Nan, for of course I can't win the pen-
nant this year without Whit being in shape. But
I believe I wouldn't mind the loss of that any
more than to see him fall down. The boy is a
magnificent pitcher. If he can only be brought
around hell go to the big league next year and
develop into one of the greatest pitchers the game
has ever produced. But somehow or other he has
lost heart. He's quit. And I've done my best
for him. He's beyond me now. What a shame
it is! For he's the making of such a splendid
man outside of baseball. Milly thinks the world
of hiuL Well, well ; there are disappointments —
we can't help them. There goes the gong. I must
leave you. Nan, I'll bet you a box of candy Whit
loses today. Is it a go?"

"It is," replied Nan, with fire in her eyes.
"You go to Whit Hurtle and tell him I said if
he wins today's game 111 kiss him I"

THE RUBE'S WATERLOO 107

I nearly broke my neck over benches and bats
getting to Whit with that message. He gulped
once.

Then he tightened his belt and shut out Hart-
ford with two scratch singles. It was a great
exhibition of pitching. I had no means to tell
whether or not the Rube got his reward that
nighty but I was so happy that I hugged Milly
within an inch of her life.

But it turned out that I had been a little pre-
mature in my elation. In two days the Rube went
down into the depths again, this time clear to
China, and Nan was sitting in the grand stand
with Henderson. The Rube lost his next game,
pitching like a schoolboy scared out of his wits.
Henderson followed Nan like a shadow, so that I
had no chance to talk to her. The Rube lost his
next game and then another. We were pushed
out of second place.

If we kept up that losing streak a little longer,
our hopes for the pennant were gone. I had
begun to despair of the Rube. For some occult
reason he scarcely spoke to me. Nan flirted worse
than ever. It seemed to me she flaunted her con-
quest of Henderson in poor Whit's face.

The Providence ball team came to town and
promptly signed Henderson and announced him
for Saturday's game. Cairns won the first of the
series and Radboume lost the second. It was

108 THE REDHEADED OUTFIELD

Bribe's turn to pitch the Saturday game and I
resolved to make one more effort to put the love-
sick swain in something like his old fettle. So I
called npon Nan.

She was surprised to see me, bnt received me
graciously. I fancied her face was not quite so
glowing as usual. I came bluntly out with my
mission. She tried to freeze me but I would not
freeze. I was out to win or lose and not to be
lightly laughed aside or coldly denied. I played
to make her angry, knowing the real truth of her
feelings would show under stress.

For once in my life I became a knocker and said
some unpleasant things — albeit they were true —
about Henderson. She championed Henderson
royallyi and when, as a last card, I compared
Whit's fine record with Henderson's, not only as
a ball player, but as a man, particularly in his
reverence for women, she flashed at me :

**What do you know about itf Mr. Henderson
asked me to marry him. Can a man do more to
show his respect? Tour friend never so much
as hinted such honorable intentions. What's
more — ^he insxdted me I " The blaze in Nan 's black
eyes softened with a film of tears. She looked
hurt. Her pride had encountered a fall.

**0h, no. Nan, Whit couldn't insult a lady," I
protested.

' * Couldn 't he ? That 's all you know about hiuL
You know I — ^I promised to kiss him if he beat

THE BUBE'S WATERLOO 109

Hartford that day. So when he came I— I did.
Then the big savage began to rave and he grabbed
me np in his arms. He smothered me; ahnost
cmshed the life ont of me. He frightened me ter-
ribly. When I got away from him— the monster
stood there and coolly said I belonged to him. I
ran ont of the room and wonldn't see him any
more. At first I might have forgiven him if he
had apologized — said he was sorry, but never a
word. Now I never will forgive him. ' ^

I had to make a strenuous effort to conceal my
agitation. The Bube had most carefully taken
my fool advice in the matter of wooing a woman.

When I had got a hold upon myself, I turned
to Nan white-hot with eloquence. Now I was talk-
ing not wholly for myself or the pennant, but for
this boy and girl who were at odds ^ in that
strangest game of life — ^love.

What I said I never knew, but Nan lost her re-
sentment, and then her scorn and indifference.
Slowly she thawed and warmed to my reason,
praise, whatever it was, and when I stopped she
was again the radiant bewildering Nan of old.

''Take another message to Whit for me," she
said, audaciously. ''Tell him I adore ball play-
ers, especially pitchers. Tell him I'm going to
the game today to choose the best one. If he loses
the game *'

She left the sentence unfinished. In my state
of mind I doubted not in the least that she meant

110 THE EEDHBADED OUTFIELD

to marry the pitcher who won the game, and so
I told the Bube. He made one wild upheaval of
his arms and shoulders, like an erupting volcano,
which proved to me that he believed it, too.

When I got to the bench that afternoon I was
tired. There was a big crowd to see the game;
the weather was perfect ; Milly sat up in the box
and waved her score card at me; Baddy and
Spears declared we had the game; the Bube
stalked to and fro like an implacable Indian chief
— ^but I was not happy in mind. Calamity
breathed in the very air.

The game began. McCall beat out a bunt ; Ash-
well sacrificed and Stringer laced one of his beau-
tiful triples against the fence. Then he scored
on a high fly. Two runs I Worcester trotted out
into the field. The Bube was white with deter-
mination ; he had the si>eed of a bullet and perfect
control of his jump ball and drop. But Provi-
dence hit and had the luck. Ashwell fumbled,
Gregg threw wild. Providence tied the score.

The game progressed, growing more and more
of a nightmare to me. It was not Worcester's
day. The umpire could not see straight ; the boys
grumbled and fought among themselves; Spears
roasted the umpire and was sent to the bench;
Bogart tripped, hurting his sore ankle, and had
to be taken out. Henderson's slow, easy ball
ba£9ed my players, and when he used speed they
lined it straight at a Providence fielder.

THE RUBE'S WATERLOO 111

In the sixth, after a desperate rally, we crowded
the bases with only one ont. Then Mnllaney's
hard rap to left, seemingly good for three bases,
was pnlled down by Stone with one hand. It was
a wonderfal catch and he doubled np a runner at
second. Again in the seventh we had a chance
to score, oidy to fail on another double play, this
time by the infield.

When the Providence players were at bat their
luck not only held good but trebled and quad-
rupled. The little Texas-league hits dropped
safely just out of reach of the infielders. My boys
had an oflf day in fielding. What horror that of
all days in a season this should be the one for
them to make errors !

But they were game, and the Rube was the
gamest of all. He did not seem to know what
hard luck was, or discouragement, or i>oor sup-
I)ort He kept everlastingly hammering the ball
at those lucky Providence hitters. What speed he
had! The ball streaked in, and somebody would
shut his eyes and make a safety. But the Rube
pitched, on, tireless, irresistibly, hopeful, not for-
getting to call a word of cheer to his fielders.

It was one of those strange games that could
not be bettered by any labor or daring or skill.
I saw it was lost from the second inning, yet so
deeply was I concerned, so tantalizingly did the
plays reel themselves off, that I groveled there
on the bench unable to abide by my baseball sense.

112 THE REDHEADED OUTFIELD

The ninth inning proved beyond a shadow of
doubt how baseball fate, in common with other
fates, loved to balance the chances, to lift np one,
then the other, to lend a deceitful hope only to.
dash it away.

Providence had almost three times enough to
win. The team let up in that inning or grew over-
confident or careless, and before we knew what
had happened some scratch hits, and bases on
balls, and errors, gave us three runs and left two
runners on bases. The disgusted bleachers came
out of their gloom and began to whistle and
thump. The Bube hit safely, sending another run
over the plate. McCall worked his old trick, beat-
ing out a slow bunt.

Bases full, three runs to tie I With Ashwell up
and one out, the noise in the bleachers moxmted
to a high-pitched, shrill, continuous sound. I got
up and yelled with all my might and could not
hear my voice. Ashwell was a dangerous man in
a pinch. The game was not lost yet. A hit, any-
thing to get Ash to first — and then Stringer I

Ash laughed at Henderson, taunted him, shook
his bat at him and dared him to put one over.
Henderson did not stand under fire. The ball he
pitched had no steanL Ash cracked it — square on
fhe line into the shortstop's hands. The bleachers
ceased yelling.

Then Stringer strode grimly to the plate. It
was a hundred to one, in that instance, that he

THE BXJBE'S WATERLOO 113

would lose the ball. The bleachers let out one
deafening roar, then hushed. I would rather have
had Stringer at the bat than any other player in
the world, and I thought of the Bube and Nan
and Milly— and hope would not die.

Stringer swung mightily on the first pitch and
struck the ball with a sharp, solid bing I It shot
toward center, low, level, exceedingly swift, and
like a dark streak went straight into the fielder's
hands. A rod to right or left would have made
it a home run. The crowd strangled a victorious
yell. I came out of my trance, for the game was
over and lost. It was the Bube 's Waterloo.

I hurried him into the dressing room and kept
close to him. He looked like a man who had lost
the one thing worth while in his life. I turned a
deaf ear to my players, to everybody, and hustled
the Bube out and to the hotel. I wanted to be
near him that night.

To my amaze we met Milly and Nan as we
entered the lobby. Milly wore a sweet, sympa-
thetic smile. Nan shone more radiant than ever.
I simply stared. It was Milly who got us all
through the corridor into the parlor. I heard Nan
talking.

*^Whit, you pitched a bad game but — '' there
was the old teasing, arch, coquettishness — ^^^but
you are the best pitcher I "

"Nan!''

"Yes!''

BREAKING INTO FAST COMPANY

Thet may say baseball is the same in the minor
leagues that it is in the big leagues, but any old
ball player or manager knows better. Where the
difference comes in, however, is in the greater
excellence and unity of the major players, a speed,
a daring, a finish that can be acquired only in
competition with one another.

I thought of this when I led my party into
Morrisey's private box in the grand stand of the
Chicago American League grounds. We had
come to see the Bube's break into fast company.
My great pitcher, Whittaker Hurtle, the Bube,
as we called him, had won the Eastern League
Pennant for me that season, and Morrisey, the
Chicago magnate, had bought him. Milly, my
affianced, was with me, looking as happy as she
was pretty, and she was chaperoned by her
mother, Mrs. Nelson.

With me, also, were two veterans of my team,
McCall and Spears, who lived in Chicago, and

115

116 * THE EEDHEADED OUTFIELD

who would have traveled a few miles to see the
Bube pitch. And the other member of my party
was Mrs. Hurtle, the Rube's wife, as saucy and
as sparkling-eyed as when she had been Nan
Brown. Today she wore a new tailor-made gown,
new bonnet, new gloves — she said she had deco-
rated herself in a manner befitting the wife of a
major league pitcher.

Morrisey's box was very comfortable, and, as
I was pleased to note, so situated that we had a
fine view of the field and stands, and yet were
comparatively secluded. The bleachers were fill-
ing. Some of the Chicago players were on the
field tossing and batting balls; the Bube, how-
ever, had not yet appeared.

A moment later a metallic sound was heard on
the stairs leading up into the box. I knew it for
baseball spiked shoes clanking on the wood.

The Bube, looking enormous in his uniform,
stalked into the box, knocking over two chairs as
he entered. He carried a fielder's glove in one
huge freckled hand, and a big black bat in the
other.

Nan, with much dignity and a very manifest
pride, introduced him to Mrs. Nelson.

There was a little chatting, and then, upon the
arrival of Manager Morrisey, we men retired to
the back of the box to talk baseball.

Chicago was in fourth place in the league race,
and kad a fighting chance to beat Detroit out for

BREAKING INTO PAST COMPANY UV.

the third position. Philadelphia was scheduled
for that day, and Philadelphia had a great team.
It was leading the race, and almost beyond all
question wonld land the flag. In truth, only one
more victory was needed to clinch the pennant.
The team had three games to play in Chicago and
it was to wind up the season with three in Wash-
ington. Six games to play and only one impera-
tively important to win I But baseball is uncer-
tain, and until the Philadelphians won that game
they would be a band of fiends.

"Well, Whit, this is where you break in,^' I
said. "Now, tip us straight. YouVe had more
than a week's rest How's that armf

"Grand, Con, grand!'' replied the Bube with
his frank smile. "I was a little anxious till I
warmed up. But say I I've got more up my sleeve
today than I ever had."

"That'll do for me," said Morrisey, rubbing
his hands. "Ill spring something on these
swelled Quakers today. Now, Connelly, give Hur-
tle one of your old talks — ^the last one — ^and then
111 ring the gong."

I added some words of encouragement, not for-
getting my old ruse to incite the Bube by rousing
his temper. And then, as the gong rang and the
Bube was departing. Nan stepped forward for
her say. There was a little white under the tan on
her cheek, and her eyes had a darkling flash.

"Whit, it's a magnificent sight — ^that beautiful

il8 THE REDHEADED OUTFIELD

green field and the stands. What a crowd of
fans I Whyv I never saw a real baseball crowd
before. There are twenty thousand here. And
there ^s a difference in the feeling. It's sharper
— ^new to me. It's big league baseball. Not a soul
in that crowd ever heard of yon, bnt, I believe,
tomorrow the whole baseball world will have heard
of yon. Mr. Morrisey knows. I saw it in his
face. Captain Spears knows. Connie knows. I
know."

Then she lifted her face and, pnlling him down
within reach, she kissed him. Nan took her hus-
band's work in dead earnest; she gloried in it,
and perhaps she had as mnch to do with making
him a great pitcher as any of ns.

The Bnbe left the box, and I found a seat be-
tween Nan and Milly. The field was a splendid
sight. Those bleachers made me glow with man-
agerial satisfaction. On the field both teams
pranced and danced and bounced around in prac-
tice.

In spite of the absolutely last degree of egotism
manifested by the Philadelphia players, I could
not but admire such a splendid body of men.

' ^ So these are the champions of last season and
of this season, too," commented Milly. '^I don't
wonder. How swiftly and cleanly they play I
They appear not to exert themselves, yet they
always get the ball in perfect time. It all reminds
me of — of the rhythm of music. And that cham-

BBEAKING INTO FAST COMPANY 119

pion batter and nmner — ^that Lane in center —
isn't he just beautiful f He walks and runs like a
blue-ribbon winner at the horse show. I tell you
one thing, Connie, these Quakers are on dress
parade."

'^Oh, these Quakers hate themselves, I don't
think!" retorted Nan. Being a rabid girl-fan it
was, of course, impossible for Nan to speak base-
ball convictions or gossip without characteristic
baseball slang. ''Stuck on themselves! I never
saw the like in my life. That fellow Lane is so
swelled that he can't get down off his toes. But
he's a wonder, I must admit that. They're a
bunch of stars. Easy, fast, trained — ^they're ma-
chines, and 111 bet they're Indians to fight. I can
see it sticking out all over them. This will cer-
tainly be some game with Whit handing up that
jump ball of his to this gang of champs. But,
Connie, I'll go you "Whit beats them."

I laughed and refused to gamble.

The gong rang; the crowd seemed to hum and
rustle softly to quiet attention ; Umpire McClung
called the names of the batteries; then the fa-
miliar "Play!"

There was the usual applause from the grand
stand and ^welcome cheers from the bleachers.
The Bube was the last player to go out. Mor-
risey was a manager who always played to the
stands, and no doubt he held the Bube back for
effect. If so, he ought to have been

120 THE BEDHEADED OUTFIELD

That moment reminded me of my own team and
audience npon the occasion of the Bube's debut.
It was the same — only here it happened in the
big league, before a championship team and
twenty thousand fans.

The roar that went up from the bleachers might
well have scared an unseasoned pitcher out of his
wits. And the Quakers lined up before their
bench and gazed at this newcomer who had the
nerve to walk out there to the box. Cogswell
stood on the coaching line, looked at the Bube and
then held up both arms and turned toward the
Chicago bench as if to ask Morrisey: ** Where
did you get thatf

Nan, quick as a flash to catch a point, leaned
over the box-rail and looked at the champions
with fire in her eye. "Oh, you just wait! wait I ^'
she bit out between her teeth.

Certain it was that there was no one who knew
the Bube as well as I; and I knew beyond the
shadow of a doubt that the hour before me would
see brightening of a great star pitcher on the big
league horizon. It was bound to be a full hour
for me. I had much reason to be grateful to Whii
Hurtle. He had pulled my team out of a rut and
won me the pennant, and the five thousand dollars
I got for his release bought the little cottage on
the hill for Milly and me. Then there was my
pride in having developed hinL And all that I
needed to calm me, settle me down into assurance

BBEAKING INTO FAST COMPANY 121

and keen criticism of the game, was to see the
Bnbe pitch a few balls with his old incomparable

speed and control.

Berne, first batter for the Quakers, walked up
to the plate. He was another Billy Hamilton,
bnilt like a wedge. I saw him langh at the long
pitcher.

Whit swayed back, coiled and nncoiled. Some-
thing thin, white, glancing, shot at Berne. He
dncked, escaping the ball by a smaller margin
than appeared good for his confidence. He spoke
low to the Bube, and what he said was probably
not flavored with the milk of friendly sweet-
ness.

"Wildl What'd yon look for?*' called ont
Cogswell scornfully. * * He 's from the woods 1 ' ^

The Babe swung his enormously long arm, took
an enormous stride toward third base, and pitched
again. It was one of his queer deliveries. The
ball cut the plate.

"Hoi Hoi'" yelled the Quakers.

The Bube's next one was his out curve. It
broke toward the comer of the plate and would
have been a strike had not Berne popped it up.

Callopy, the second hitter, faced the Bube, and
he, too, after the manner of ball players, made
some remark meant only for the Bube's ears.
Callopy was a famous waiter. He drove more
pitchers mad with his implacable patience than
any hitter in the league. The first one of the

122 THE BEDHEADED OUTFIE

Bnbe^s he waited on crossed the in-comer; the
second crossed the ont-comer and the third was
Bnbe's wide, slow, tantalizing ^'stitch-ball/' as
we call ity for the reason that it canoie so slow a
batter conld count the stitches. I believe Callopy
waited on that curve, decided to hit it, changed
his mind and waited some more, and finally the
ball maddened him and he had to poke at it, the
result being a weak grounder.

Then the graceful, powerful Lane, champion
batter, champion base runner, stepped to the
plate. How a baseball crowd, any crowd, any-
where, loves the champion batter I The ovation
Lane received made me wonder, with this impres-
sive reception in a hostile camp, what coxdd be
the manner of it on his home field? Any boy ball-
player from the lots seeing Lane knock the dirt
out of his spikes and step into position would have
known he was a 400 hitter.

I was curious to see what the Bube would pitch
Lane. It must have been a new and significant
moment for Hurtle. Some pitchers actually wilt
when facing a hitter of Lane's reputation. But
he, on his baseball side, was peculiarly unemo-
tional. Undoubtedly he could get furious, but that
only increased his efi^ectiveness. To my amaze-
ment the Bube pitched Lane a little easy ball, not
in any sense like his floater or stitch-ball, but just
a little toss that any youngster might have tossed.
Of all possible balls. Lane was not expecting such

BREAKING INTO PAST COMPANY 123

as that, and he let it go. If the nerve of it amazed
me, what did it not do to Lanet I saw his face
go fiery red. The grand stand mnrmnred ; let out
one short yelp of pleasure; the Quaker players
chaffed Lane.

The pitch was a strike. I was gripping my
chair now, and for the next pitch I prophesied the
Rubers wonderful jump ball, which he had not yet
used. He swung long, and at the end of his swing
seemed to jerk tensely. I scarcely saw the ball.
It had marvelous speed. Lane did not offer to hit
it, and it was a strike. He looked at the Bube,
then at Cogswell. That veteran appeared amused.
The bleachers, happy and surprised to be able to
yell at Lane, yelled heartily.

Again I took it upon myself to interpret the
Bube's pitching mind. He had another ball that
he had not used, a drop, an unhittable drop. I
thought he would use that next. He did, and
though Lane reached it with the bat, the hit was
a feeble one. He had been fooled and the side
was out.

Poole, the best of the Quaker's pitching staff,
walked out to the slab. He was a left-hander,
and Chicago, having so many players who batted
left-handed, always found a southpaw a hard
nut to crack. Cogswell, field manager and cap-
tain of the Quakers, kicked up the dust around
first base and yelled to his men: '^Git in the
game!"

124 THE REDHEADED OUTFIELD

Staats hit Poole's speed ball into deep short
and was out; Mitchell flew out to Berne; Band
grounded to second

While the teams again changed sides the fans
cheered, and then indulged in the first stretch of
the game. I calculated that they would be stretch-
ing their necks presently, trying to keep track of
the Bube's work. Nan leaned on the railing
absorbed in her own hope and faith. MiUy chat-
tered about this and that, people in the boxes, and
the chances of the game.

My own interest, while it did not wholly pre-
clude the fortunes of the Chicago players at the
bat, was mostly concerned with the Bube's for-
tunes in the field.

In the Bube's half inning he retired Bannister
and Blandy on feeble infield grounders, and
worked Cogswell into hitting a wide curve high
in the air.

Poole meant to win for the Quakers if his good
arm and cunning did not fail him, and his pitch-
ing was masterly. McCloskey fanned, Hutchin-
6on fouled out, Brewster got a short safe fly just
out of reach, and Hoffher hit to second, forcing
Brewster.

With Dugan up for the Quakers in the third
inning, Cogswell and Bannister, from the coach-
ing lines, began to talk to the Bube. My ears,
keen from long practice, caught some of the
marks in spite of the noisy bleachers.

BREAKING INTO FAST COMPANY 125

"Say, bnsher, yonVe lasted longeron we ex-
pected, but you don ^t know it I "

* ' Gol dam you city ball tossers 1 Now you jest
let me alone!'*

* 'We're comin' through the rye I''

"My toi>-heavy rustic friend, youTl need an air-
ship presently, when you go up I''

All the badinage was good-natured, which was
sure proof that the Quakers had not arrived af
anything like real appreciation of the Eube. They
were accustomed to observe the trying out of
many youngsters, of whom ninety-nine out of a
hundred failed to make good.

Dugan chopped at three strikes and slammed
his bat down. Hucker hit a slow fly to Hoffer.
Three men out on five pitched balls! Cogswell,
old war horse that he was, stood a full moment
and watched the Rube as he walked in to Ihe
bench. An idea had penetrated Cogswell's brain,
and I would have given something to know what
it was. Cogswell was a great baseball general,
and though he had a preference for matured ball-
players he could, when pressed, see the quality
in a youngster. He picked up his mitt and tooK
his position at first with a gruff word to his
players.

Band for Chicago opened with a hit, and the
bleachers, ready to strike fire, began to cheer and
stamp. When McCloskey, in an attempt to sac-
rifice, beat out his bunt tiie crowd roared. Band,

126 THE REDHEADED OUTFIELD

being slow on his f eet, had not attempted to make
third on the play. Hutchinson sacrificed, neatly
advancing the mnners. Then the bleachers
played the long rolling drum of clattering feet
with shrill whistling accompaniment. Brewster
batted a wicked ground ball to Blandy. He dove
into the dust, came up with the ball, and feinting
to throw home he wheeled and shot the ball to
Cogswell,, who in turn shot it to the plate to head
Band. Runner and ball got there apparently to-
gether, but Umpire McClimg's decision went
against Rand. It was fine, fast work, but how
the bleachers stormed at McClungI

"Rob-b-berl'^

Again the head of the Quakers' formidable list
was up. I knew from the way that Cogswell
paced the coaching box that the word had gone
out to look the Rube over seriously. There were
possibilities even in rubes.

Berne carefully stepped into the batter's box,
as if he wanted to be certain to the breadth of a
hair how close he was to the plate. He was there
this time to watch the Rube pitch, to work him
out, to see what was what. He crouched low, and
it would have been extremely hard to guess what
he was up to. His great play, however, was his
ability to dump the ball and beat out the throw
to first. It developed presently, that this was
now his intention and that the Rube knew it and
pitched him the one ball which is almost impos-

BBEAKING INTO PAST COMPANY 127

fiible to bnnt— a high incnrvey over the inside cor-
ner. There was no mistaking the Bnbe's mag-
nificent control. Tme as a plnmb line he shot np
the ball — once, twice, and Berne f onled both — ^two
strikes. Omdgingly he waited on the next, but it,
too, was over the comer, and Berne went ont on
strikes. The great crowd did not, of conrse, grasp
the finesse of the play, but Berne had struck out
— ^that was enough for them.

Callopy, the famous spiker, who had put many
a player out of the game for weeks at a time,
strode into the batter's place, and he, too, was not
at the moment making any funny remarks. The
Bube delivered a ball that all but hit Callopy fair
on the head. It was the second narrow escape
for him, and the roar he let out showed how he
resented being threatened with a little of his own
medicine. As might have been expected, and
very likely as the Bube intended, Callopy hit the
next ball, a sweeping curve, up over the infield.

I was trying to see all the intricate details of
the motive and action on the field, and it was not
easy to watch several players at once. But while
Berne and Callopy were having their troubles
with the Bube, I kept the tail of my eye on Cogs-
well. He was prowling up and down the third-
base line.

He was missing no signs, no indications, no
probabilities, no possibilities. But he was in
doubt. Like a hawk he was watching the Bube,

128 THE REDHEADED OUTFIELD

and, as well, the crafty batters. The inning might
not tell the truth as to the Bnbe's luck, thongh it
would test his control. The Bnbe's speed and
curves, without any head work, would have made
him a pitcher of no mean ability, but was this re*
markable placing of balls just accident? That
was the question.

When Berne walked to the bench I distinctly
heard him say : * * Come out of it, you dubs. I say
you can't work him or wait him. He's peggin'
*em out of a gun I"

Several of the Quakers were standing out from
the bench, all intent on the Bube. He had stirred
them up. First it was humor ; then ridicule, curi-
osity, suspicion, doubt. And I knew it would grow
to wonder and certainty, then fierce attack from
both tongues and bats, and lastly — ^f or ball play-
ers are generous — ^unstinted admiration.

Somehow, not only the first climaxes of a game
but the decisions, the convictions, the reputations
of pitchers and fielders evolve around the great
hitter. Plain it was that the vast throng of si)ee-
tators, eager to believe in a new find, wild to wel-
come a new star, yet loath to trust to their own
impulsive judgments, held themselves in check
until once more the great Lane had faced the
Bube.

The field grew tolerably quiet just then. The
Bube did not exert himself. The critical stage
had no concern for him. He pitched Lane a high

BEEAKENG INTO FAST COMPANY 129

carve, over the plate, but in close, a ball meant
to be hit and a ball hard to hit safely. Lane knew
that as well as any hitter in the world, so he let
two of the curves go by — ^two strikes. Again the
Bube relentlessly gave him the same ball; and
Lane, hitting viciously, spitefully, because he did
not want to hit that kind of a ball, sent up a fly
that Band easily captured.

*'0h, I don't know! Pretty fair, I guess!''
yelled a tenor-voiced fan ; and he struck the key-
note. And the bleachers rose to their feet and
gave the Bube the rousing cheer of the brother-
hood of fans.

Hoffer walked to first on a base on balls.
Sweeney advanced him. The Bube sent up a giant
fly to Callopy. Then Staats hit safely, scoring
the first run of the game. Hoffer crossed the
plate amid vociferous applause. Mitchell ended
the inning with a fly to Blandy.

What a change had come over the spirit of that
Quaker aggregation! It was something to make
a man thrill with admiration and, if he happened
to favor Chicago, to fire all his fighting blood.
The players poured upon the Bube a continuous
stream of scathing abuse. They would have made
a raging devil of a mild-mannered clergyman.
Some of them were skilled in caustic wit, most of
them were possessed of forked tongues ; and Cogs-
well, he of a thousand baseball battles, had a
genius for inflaming anyone he tormented. This

130 THE REDHEADED OUTFIELD

was mostly beyond the ken of the andience, and
behind the back of the umpire, but it was perfectly
plain to me. The Quakers were trying to rattle
the Bube, a trick of the game as fair for one side
as for the other. I sat there tight in my seat,
grimly glorying in the way the Bube refused to
be disturbed. But the lion in him was rampant.
Fortunately, it was his strange gift to pitch better
the angrier he got; and the more the Quakers
flayed him, the more he let himself out to their
crushing humiliation.

The innings swiftly passed to the eighth with
Chicago failing to score again, with Philadelphia
failing to score at all. One scratch hit and a sin-
gle, gifts to the weak end of the batting list, were
all the lank pitcher allowed them. Long since the
bleachers had crowned the Bube. He was theirs
and they were his; and their voices had the
peculiar strangled hoarseness due to over-exer-
tion. The grand stand, slower to understand and
approve, arrived later; but it got there about the
seventh, and ladies' gloves and men's hats were
sacrificed.

In the eighth the Quakers reluctantly yielded
their meed of praise, showing it by a cessation of
their savage wordy attacks on the Bube. It was .
a kind of sullen respect, wrung from the bosom of
great foes.

Then the ninth inning was at hand. As tfie
sides changed I remembered to look at the

BBEAKINO INTO FAST COMPANY 131

feminine group in onr box. Milly was in a most
beantifnl glow of happiness and excitement. Nan
sat rigid, leaning over the rail, her face white
and drawn, and she kept saying in a low voice:
**Will it never end? Will it never endf Mrs.
Nelson stared wearily.

It was the Quakers' last stand. They faced it
as a team that had won many a game in the ninth
with two men out. Dugan conld do nothing with
the Bnbe's nnhittable drop, for a drop curve was
his weakness, and he struck out. Hucker hit to
Hoffer, who fumbled, making the first error of
the game. Poole dumped the ball, as evidently
the Bube desired, for he handed up a straight one,
but the bunt rolled teasingly and the Bube, being
big and tall, failed to field it in time.

Suddenly the whole field grew quiet. For the
first time Cogswell's coaching was clearly heard.

''One out! Take a lead! Take a lead! Go
through this time. Go through!''

Could it be possible, I wondered, that after such
a wonderful exhibition of pitching the Bube would
lose ont in the ninth f

There were two Quakers on base, one out, and
two of the best hitters in the league on deck, with a
chance of Lane getting up.

''Oh! Oh! Oh!'' moaned Nan.

I put my hand on hers. "Don't quit, Nan.
You 11 never forgive yourself if you quit Take
it from me, Whit will pull out of this hole!"

132 THE REDHEADED OUTFIELD

"Wliat & hole that was for the Bube on the day
of his break into fast company I I measured it
by his remarkable deliberation. He took a long
time to get ready to pitch to Berne, and when he
let drive it was as if he had been trifling all before
in that game. I could think of no way to figure
it except that when the ball left him there was
scarcely any appreciable interval of time before
it cracked in Sweeney's mitt. It was the Bube^s
drop, which I believed unhittable. Berne let it
go by, shaking his head as McClung called it a
strike. Another followed, which Berne chopped
at vainly. Then with the same upheaval of his
giant frame, the same flnging of long arms and
lunging forward, the Bube delivered a third drop^;
And Berne failed to hit it.

The voiceless bleachers stamped on the benches
and the grand stand likewise thundered.

Callopy showed his craft by stepping back and
lining Bube's high pitch to left. Hoffer leaped
across and plunged down, getting his gloved hand
in front of the ball. The hit was safe, but Hoffer's
valiant effort saved a tie score.

Lane up I Three men on bases I Two out I

Not improbably there were many thousand
spectators of that thrilling moment who pitied
the Bube for the fate which placed Lane at the
bat then. But I was not one of them. Never-
theless my throat was clogged, my mouth dry, and
my ears full of bells. I could have done something

BREAKING INTO FAST COMPANY 133

ferrible to Hurtle for his deliberation, yet I knew
he was proving himself what I had always tried
to train him to be.

Then he swang, stepped out, and threw his body
with the ball. This was his rarely nsed pitch, his
last resort, his fast rise ball that jumped up a
little at the plate. Lane struck under it. How
significant on the instant to see old Cogswell's
hands go up I Again the Bube pitched, and this
time Lane watched the ball go by. Two strikes 1

That whole audience leaped to its feet, whis-
pering, yelling, screaming, roaring, bawling.

The Bube received the ball from Sweeney and
quick as lightning he sped it plateward. The great
Lane struck out I The game was over — Chicago,
1; Philadelphia, 0.

Li that whirling moment when the crowd went
mad and Milly was hugging me, and Nan pound-
ing holes in my hat, I had a queer sort of blank-
ness, a section of time when my sensations were
deadlocked.

**OhI Connie, look!'* cried Nan. I saw Lane
and Cogswell warmly shaking hands with the
Bube. Then the hungry clamoring fans tumbled
upon the field and swarmed about the players.

Wereupon Nan kissed me and Milly, and then
kissed Mrs. Nelson. In that radiant moment Nan
was all sweetness.

^'It is the Bube's break into fast company," she
said.

THE KNOCKER

"^'Ybs, Carroll, I got my notice. Maybe it's no
snrprise to you. And there *8 one more thing I want
to say. You're 4t' on this team. You're the top-
notch catcher in the Western League and one
of the best ball players in the game — but you're
a knocker !''

Madge EUston heard young Sheldon speak.
She saw the flash in his gray eyes and the heat
of his bronzed face as he looked intently at the
big catcher.

"Fade away, sonny. Back to the bush-league
for yours!" replied Carroll, derisively. "You're
not fast enough for Kansas City. You look pretty
good in a uniform and you're swift on your feet,
but you can't hit. You've got a glass arm and
you run bases like an ostrich trying to side. That
notice was coming to you. Go learn the gamel'^

Then a crowd of players trooped noisily out of
the hotel lobby and swept Sheldon and Carroll
down the porch steps toward the waiting omnibus.

135

136 THE BEDHEADED OUTFIELD

Madge's xmele owned the E^ansas City dub.
She had lived most of her nineteen years in a
baseball atmosphere, bnt accustomed as she was
to baseball talk and the peculiar banterings and
bickerings of the players, there were times when
it seemed all Greek. If a player got his " notice *'
it meant he would be released in ten days. A
**knocker'' was a ball player who spoke ill of
his fellow players. This scrap of conversation,
however, had an nnnsnal interest because Carroll
had paid court to her for a year, and Sheldon,
coming to the team that spring, had fallen des-
perately in love with Her. She liked Sheldon
pretty well, but Carroll fascinated her. She began
to wonder if there were bad feelings between the
rivals — ^to compare them — ^to get away from her-
self and judge them impersonally.

When Pat Donahue, the veteran manager of
the team came out, Madge greeted him with a
smile. She had always gotten on famously with
Pat, notwithstanding her imperious desire to
handle the managerial reins herself upon occa-
sions. Pat beamed all over his round ruddy face.

**Miss Madge, you weren't to the park yester-
day an' we lost without our pretty mascot. We
shure needed you. Denver's playin' at a fast
clip."

**I'm coming out today," replied Miss Ellston,
thoughtfully. "Pat, what's a knocker?"

^^Now, Miss Madge, are you askin' me ithat

THE KNOCKER 137

after IVe been coachin' yon in baseball for
years ?'^ qnestioned Pat, in distress.
**I know what a knocker is, as everybody else

does. Bnt I want to know the real meaning, the
inside-ball of it, to nse your favorite saying. '^

Studying her grave face with shrewd eyes Dona^
hue slowly lost his smile.

*'The inside-ball of it, ehf Come, let's sit over
Eere a bit — ^the snn's shnre warm today. . . .
Miss Madge, a knocker is the strangest man
known in the game, the hardest to deal with an'
what every baseball manager hates most.*'

Donahne told her that he believed the term
* 'knocker " came originally from baseball; that in
general it typified tiie player who strengthened
his own standing by belittling the ability of his
team-mates, and by enlarging npon his own sn-
I)erior qualities. Bnt there were many phases of
this pecoliar type. Some players were natural
bom knockers ; others acquired the name in their
later years in the game when yoxmger men threat-
ened to win their places. Some of the best
players ever produced by baseball had the habit
in its most violent form. There were players
of ridiculously poor ability who held their jobs
on the strength of this one trait. It was a mys-
tery how they misled magnates and managers
alike; how for months they held their places,
weakening a team, often keeping a good team
down in the race ; all from sheer bold suggestion

138 THE REDHEADED OUTFIELD

of their own worth and other players^ worthless-
ness. Strangest of all was the knockers' power
to disorganize ; to engender a bad spirit between
management and team and among the players.
The team which was without one of the parasites
of the game generally stood well up in the race
for the pennant, though there had been cham-
pionship teams noted for great knockers as well
as great players.

"It's shore strange, Miss Madge, *^ said Pat in
conclusion, shaking his gray head. "IVe played
hundreds of knockers, an' released them, too.
Knockers always get it in the end, but they go on
foolin' me and workin' me just the same as if I
was a youngster with my first teaoL They're
part an' parcel of the game."

**Do you like these men off the field — outside
of baseball, I meant"

"No, I shure don't, an^ I never seen one yet
that wasn't the same off the field as he was on."

"Thank you, Pat. I think I understand now.
And— oh, yes, there's another thing I want to
ask you. What's the matter with BUlie Sheldon t
Uncle George said he was falling off in his game.
Then I've read the papers. Billie started out
well in the spring."

"Didn't hef I was sure thinkin' I had a find
in Billie. Well, he's lost his nerve. He's in a
bad slump. It's worried me for days. I'm goin'
to release Billie. The team needs a shake-up*

THE KNOCKEB 139

That's where Billie gets the worst of it, for he's
really the makin' of a star; but he's slumped, an'
now knockin ' has made him let down. There, Miss
Madge, that's an example (^f what I've just been
tellin' yon. An' yon can see that a manager has
his troubles. These hnlkin' athletes are a lot of
spoiled babies an' I often get sick of my job."

That afternoon Miss EUston was in a brown
study all the way out to the baseball park. She
arrived rather earlier than usual to find the grand-
stand empty. The Denver team had just come
upon the field, and the Kansas City players were
practising batting at the left of the diamond.
Madge walked down the aisle of the grand stand
and out along the reporters' boxes. She asked
one of the yoimgsters on the field to tell Mr. Shel-
don that she would like to speak with him a
moment.

Billie eagerly hurried from the players' bench
with a look of surprise and expectancy on his sun-
tanned face. Madge experienced for the first
time a sudden sense of shyness at his coming. BEis
lithe form and his nimble step somehow gave
her a pleasure that seemed old yet was new.
When he neared her, and, lifting his cap,
spoke her name, the shade of gloom in his
eyes and lines of trouble on his face dispelled her
confusion.

'' Billie, Pat tells me he's given yon ten days'
notice," she said.

140 THE EEDHEADED OUTFIELU

''It's true/'

''What's wrong with yon, Billief "

"Oh, I've struck a bad streak — can't hit or
throw. '^

"Are you a quitter!"

"No, I'm not," he answered quickly, flushing
a dark red.

"You started off this spring with a rush. Tou
played brilliantly and for a while led the team
in batting. Uncle George thought so well of you.
Then came this spell of bad form. But, Billie, it's
only a slump ; you can brace. ' '

"I don't know," he replied, despondently.
"Awhile back I got my mind off the game. Then
— ^people who don 't like me have taken advantage
of my slump to—"

"To knock," interrupted Miss EUston.

"I'm not saying that," he said, looking away
from her.

"But I'm saying it. See here, Billie Sheldon,
my uncle owns this team and Pat Donahue is man-
ager. I think they both like me a little. Now I
don't want to see you lose your place. Per-
haps "

"Madge, that's fine of you — ^but I think — ^I guess
it'd be best for me to leave Kansas City."

"Whyt"

"You know,'^ he said huskily. "I've lost my
head — ^I'm in love — ^I can't thmk of baseball —
I'm crazy about you."

THE KNOCKER 141

Miss Ellston^s sweet face grew rosy, clear to
the tips of her ears.

"Billie Sheldon/^ she replied, spiritedly.
**Toii're talking nonsense. Even if yon were —
were that way, it'd be no reason to play poor
ball. Don't throw the game, as Pat wonld say.
Make a brace! Get np on yonr toes! Tear
things! Bip the boards off the fence! Don't
qnitl'^

She exhausted her vocabulary of baseball lan-
guage if not her enthusiasm, and paused in blush-
ing confusion.

**Madge!''

**Will you brace upf

**Will I — ^will I!'' he exclaimed, breathlessly.

Madge murmured a hurried good-bye and, turn-
ing away, went up the stairs. Her uncle 's private
box was upon the top of the grand stand and she
reached it in a somewhat bewildered state of
mind. She had a confused sense of having ap^
peared to encourage Billie, and did not know
whether she felt happy or guilty. The flame in
his eyes had warmed all her blood. Then, as she
glanced over the railing to see the powerful Bums
Carroll, there rose in her breast a panic at strange
variance with her other feelings.

Many times had Madge EUston viewed the field
and stands and the outlying country from this
high vantage point; but never with the same
mingling emotions, nor had the sunshine ever

142 THE BEDHF.ADED OUTFIELD

•

been so golden, the woods and meadows so green,
the diamond so smooth and velvety, the whole
scene so gaily bright.

Denver had always been a good drawing card,
and having won the first game of the present
series, bade fair to draw a record attendance.
The long lines of bleachers, already packed with
the familiar mottled crowd, sent forth a merry,
rattling hum. Soon a steady stream of weU-
dressed men and women ponred in the gates and
np the grand-stand stairs. The soft mnrmnr of
many voices in light conversation and langhter
filled the air. The peannt venders and score-card
sellers kept np their insistent shrill cries. The
baseball park was alive now and restless; the
atmosphere seemed charged with freedom and
pleasnre. The players romped like skittish colts,
the fans shrieked their witticisms — all sonnd and
movements suggested play.

Madge Ellston was somehow relieved to see
her nncle sitl^ing in one of the lower boxes. Dnr-
ing this game she wanted to be alone, and she
believed she wonld be, for the President of the
League and directors of the Kansas City team
were with her nncle. When the bell rang to call
the Denver team in from practice the stands conld
hold no more, and the roped-off side lines were
filling np with noisy men and boys. Prom her
seat Madge conld see right down npon the
players' bench, and when she canght both Shel*

THE KNOCKER 143

3on and Carroll gazing upward she drew back
with sharply contrasted thrills.

Then the bell rang again, the bleachers rolled
ont their welcoming acclaim, and play was called
with Kansas City at the bat.

Bight off the reel Hunt hit a short fly safely
over second. The ten thousand spectators burst
into a roar. A good start liberated applause and
marked the feeling for the day.

Madge was surprised and glad to see Billie
Sheldon start next for the plate. All season, until
lately, he had been the second batter. During his
slump he had been relegated to the last place on
the batting list. Perhaps he had asked Pat to try
him once more at the top. The bleachers voiced
their unstinted appreciation of this return, show-
ing that Billie still had a strong hold on their
hearts.

As for Madge, her breast heaved and she had
difficulty in breathing. This was going to be a
hard game for her. The intensity of her desire
to see Billie brace up to his old form amazed her.
And Carroll's rude words beat thick in her ears.
Never before had Billie appeared so instinct with
life, so intent and strung as when he faced Keene,
the Denver pitcher. That worthy tied himself up
in a knot, and then, unlimbering a long arm, de-
livered the brand new ball.

Billie seemed to leap forward and throw his
bat at it. There was a sharp ringing crack— and

144 THE REDHEADED OUTFIELD

the ball was like a white string marvelonsly stretch-
ing out over the players, over the green field be-
yond, and then, sailing, soaring, over the right-
field fence. For a moment the stands, even the
bleachers, were stone qniet. No player had ever
hit a ball over that fence. It had been deemed
impossible, as was attested to by the many painted
**ads'^ offering prizes for snch a feat. Suddenly
the far end of the bleachers exploded and the
swelling roar rolled up to engulf the grand stand
in thunder. Billie ran round the bases to applause
never before vented on that field. But he gave no
sign that it affected him; he did not even doff
his cap. White-faced and stem, he hurried to the
bench, where Pat fell all over him and many of
the players grasped his hands.

Up in her box Madge was crushing her score-
card and whispering: **OhI Billie, I could hug
you for that!''

Two runs on two pitched balls I Thai was an
opening to stir an exacting audience to the high-
est pitch of enthusiasm. The Denver manager
peremptorily called Keene off the diamond and
sent in Steele, a south-paw, who had always both-
ered Pat's left-handed hitters. That move
showed his astute judgment, for Steele struck out
McBeady and retired Curtis and Mahew on easy
chances.

It was Dalgren's turn to pitch and though he
had shown promise in several games he had not

THE KNOCKER 145

yet been tried out on a team of Denver^s strength.
The bleachers gave him a good cheering as he
walked into the box, bnt for all that they whistled
their wonder at Pat^s assurance in putting him
against the Cowboys in an important game.

The lad was visibly nervous and the hard-hit-
ting and lond-coaching Denver players went after
him as if they meant to drive him ont of the
game. Crane stung one to left center for a base,
Moody was out on a liner to short, almost doubling
up Crane ; the fleet-footed Bluett bunted and beat
the throw to first ; Langly drove to left for what
seemed a three-bagger, but Curtis, after a hard
run, caught the ball almost off the left-field bleach-
ers. Crane and Bluett advanced a base on the
throw-in. Then Kane batted up a high foul-fly.
Bums Carroll, the Kansas City catcher, had the
reputation of being a fiend for chasing foul flies,
and he dashed at this one with a speed that
threatened a hard fall over the players' bench or
a collision with the fence. Carroll caught the ball
and crashed against the grand stand, but leaped
back with an agility that showed that if there was
any harm done it had not been to him.

Thus the sharp inning ended with a magnificent
play. It electrified the spectators into a fierce
energy of applause. With one accord, by base-
ball instinct, the stands and bleachers and roped-
in-sidelines realized it was to be a game of games
and they answered to the stimulus with a savage

146 THE BEDHEADED OUTFIELD

enthusiasm that inspired ballplayers to great
plays.

In the first half of the second inning, Steele's
will to do and his arm to execute were very like
his name. Kansas City could not score. In their
half the Denver team made one run by dean
hitting.

Then the closely fought advantage see-sawed
from one team to the other. It was not a pitchers'
battle, though both men worked to the limit of
skill and endurance. They were hit hard. Daz-
zling plays kept the score down and the innings
short. Over the fields hung the x)ortent of some-
thing to come, every player, every si)ectator felt
the subtle baseball chance; each inning seemed
to lead closer and more thrillingly up to the
climax. But at the end of the seventh, with the
score tied six and six, with daring steals, hard
hits and splendid plays, enough to have made
memorable several games, it seemed that the great
portentous moment was still in abeyance.

The head of the batting list for Kansas City was
up. Hunt caught the first pitched ball squarely
on the end of his bat. It was a mighty drive and
as the ball soared and soared over the center-field
Hunt raced down the base line, and the winged-
footed Crane sped outward, the bleachprs split
their throats. The hit looked good for a home
run, but Crane leaped up and caught the ball in
his gloved hand. The sudden silence and then

THE KNOCKER 147

fhe long groan which racked the bleachers was
greater tribute to Crane's play than any ai>-
planse.

Billie Sheldon then faced Steele. The fans
roared hoarsely, for Billie had hit safely three
times out of four, Steele used his curve ball, but
he could not get the batter to go after it. When
he had wasted three balls, the never-despairing
bleachers howled: **Now, Billie, in your groove!
Sting the next one I'* But Billie waited. One
strike ! Two strikes I Steele cut the plate. That
was a test which proved Sheldon's caliber.

With seven innings of exciting play passed,
with both teams on edge, with the bleachers wild
and the grand stands keyed up to the breaking
point, with everything making deliberation almost
impossible, Billie Sheldon had remorselessly
waited for three balls and two strikes.

"Nowl . . . Nowl . . . Nowl'' shrieked the
bleachers.

Steele had not tired nor lost his cunning. With
hands before him he grimly studied Billie, then
whirling hard to get more weight into his motion,
he threw the ball.

Billie swung perfectly and cut a curving liner
between the first baseman and the base. Like a
shot it skipped over the grass out along the foul-
line into right field. Amid tremendous uproar
Billie stretched the hit into a triple, and when he
got up out of the dust af ten his slide into third

148 THE REDHEADED OUTFIELD

the noise seemed to be the crashing down of the
bleachers. It died out with the choking gargling
yell of the most leather-lunged fan.

* * 0-o-o-o-yon-Billie-e I * '

McBeady marched np and promptly hit a long
fly to the redoubtable Crane. Billie crouched in
a sprinter's position with his eye on the graceful
fielder, waiting confidently for the ball to drop.
As if there had not already been sufficient heart-
rending moments, the chance that governed base-
ball meted out this play ; one of the keenest, most
trying known to the game. Players waited, spec-
tators waited, and the instant of that dropping
ball was interminably long. Everybody knew
Crane would catch it; everybody thought of the
wonderful throwing arm that had made him
famous. Was it possible for Billie Sheldon to
beat the throw to the plate?

Crane made the catch and got the ball away at
the same instant Sheldon leaped from the base
and dashed for home. Then all eyes were on the
ball. It seemed incredible that a ball thrown by
hxmian strength could speed plateward so low, so
straight, so swift. But it lost its force and slanted
down to bound into the catcher's hands just as
Billie slid over the plate.

By the time the bleachers had stopped stamping
and bawling, Curtis ended the inning with a diffi-
cult grounder to the infield.

Once more the Kansas City players took the

THE KNOCKER 149

field and Bums Carroll sang ont in his lusty voice :
"Keep lively, boys! Play hard I Dig 'em np an'
get 'em!'' Indeed the big catcher was the main-
stay of the home team. The bulk of the work fell
upon his shoulders. Dalgren was wild and kept
his catcher continually blocking low pitches and
wide curves and poorly controlled high fast balls.
But they were all alike to Carroll. Despite his
weighty he was as nimble on his feet as a goat,
and if he once got his hands on the ball he never
missed it. It was his encouragement that steadied
Dalgren ; his judgment of hitters that carried the
young pitcher through dangerous places; his
lightning swift grasp of points that directed the
machine-like work of his team.

In this inning Carroll exhibited another of his
demon chases after a foul fly ; he threw the base-
stealing Crane out at second, and by a remarkable
leap and stop of McEeady's throw, he blocked a
runner who would have tied the score.

The Cowboys blanked their opponents in the
first half of the ninth, and trotted in for their
turn needing one run to tie, two runs to win.

There had scarcely been a breathing spell for
the onlookers in this rapid-fire game. Every
inning had held them, one moment breathless, the
next wildly clamorous, and another waiting in
numb fear. What did these last few moments
hold in store f The only answer to that was the
dogged plugging optimism of the Denver players.

150 THE REDHEADED OUTFIELD

To listen to them, to watch thenii was to gather
the impression that baseball fortune always fav-
ored them in the end.

"Only three more, Dal. Steady boys, it's onr
game," rolled ont Carroll's deep bass. How
virile he was ! What a tower of strength to the
weakening pitcher I

But valiantly as Dalgren tried to respond, he
failed. The grind — ^the strain had been too severe.
When he finally did locate the plate Bluett hit
safely. Langley bunted along the base line and
beat the ball.

A blank, dead quiet settled down over the
bleachers and stands. Something fearful threat-
ened. What might not come to pass, even at the
last moment of this nerve-racking gamet There
was a runner on first and a runner on second.
That was bad. Exceedingly bad was it that these
runners were on base with nobody out. Worst
of all was the fact that Kane was up. Kane, the
best hunter, the fastest man to first, the hardest
hitter in the league! That he would fail to ad-
vance those two runners was scarcely worth con-
sideration. Once advanced, a fly to the outfield,
a scratch, anything almost, would tie the score.
So this was the climax presaged so many times
earlier in the game. Dalgren seemed to wilt under
it.

Kane swung his ash viciously and called on
Dalgren to put one over. Dalgren looked in

THE KNOCKER 151

toward the bench as if he wanted and expected to
be taken ont. Bnt Pat Donahne made no sign.
Pat had trained many a pitcher by forcing him
to take his medicine. Then Carroll, mask nnder
his arm, rolling his big hand in his mitt, sauntered
down to the pitcher's box. The sharp order of
the nmpire in no wise disconcerted him. He said
something to Dalgren, vehemently nodding his
head the while. Players and andience alike sni>-
posed he was trying to put a little heart into Dal-
gren, and liked him the better, notwithstanding
the opposition to the nmpire.

Carroll sauntered back to his position. He ad-
justed his breast protector, and put on his mask,
deliberately taking his time. Then he stepped be-
hind the plate, and after signing for the pitch, he
slowly moved his right hand up to his mask.

Dalgren wound up, took his swing, and let drive.
Even as he delivered the ball Carroll bounded
away from his position, flnging off the mask as
he jxmiped. For a single fleeting instant, the
catcher's position was vacated. But that instant
was long enough to make the audience gasp. Kane
bunted beautifully down the third base line, and
there Carroll stood, fifteen feet from the plate,
agile as a huge monkey. He whipped the ball to
Mahew at third. Mahew wheeled quick as thought
and lined the ball to second. Sheldon came tear-
ing for the bag, caught the ball on the run, and
with a violent stop and wrench threw it like a

152 THE REDHEADED OUTFIELD

bullet to first base. Fast as Kane was, the ball
beat him ten feet. A triple play I

The players of both teams cheered, bnt the
andience, slower to grasp the complex and in-
tricate points, needed a long moment to realize
what had happened. They needed another to
divine that Carroll had anticipated Kane's inten-
tion to bnnt, had left his position as the ball was
pitched, had planned all, risked all, played all on
Kane's snre eye; and so he had retired the side
and won the game by creating and executing the
rarest play in baseball.

Then the audience rose in a body lo greet the
great catcher. What a hoarse thundering roar
shook the stands and waved in a blast over the
field ! Carroll stood bowing his acknowledgment,
and then swaggered a little with the sun shining
on his handsome heated face. Like a conqueror
conscious of full blown power he stalked away to
the clubhouse.

Madge EUston came out of her trance and
viewed the ragged score-card, her torn parasol,
her battered gloves and flying hair, her generally
disheveled state with a little start of dismay, but
when she got into the thick and press of the mov-
ing crowd she found all the women more or less
disheveled. And they seemed all the prettier and
friendlier for that. It was a happy crowd and
voices were conspicuously hoarse.

When Madge entered the hotel parlor that

THE KNOCKER 153

evening she fonnd her nncle with guests and
among them was Bnms Carroll. The presence
of the handsome giant affected Madge more im-
pellingly than ever before, yet in some inex-
plicably different way. She fonnd herself trem-
bling ; she sensed a crisis in her feelings for this
man and it frightened her. She became conscious
suddenly that she had always been afraid of hiuL
Watching Carroll receive tiie congratulations of
many of those present, she saw that he dominated
them as he had her. His magnetism was over-
powering; his great stature seemed to fill the
room ; his easy careless assurance emanated from
superior strength. When he spoke lightly of the
game, of Crane's marvelous catch, of Dalgren's
pitching and of his own triple play, it seemed these
looming features retreated in perspective — ^some-
how lost their vital significance because he slighted
theuL

In the light of Carroll's illuminating talk, in the
remembrance of Sheldon's bitter denunciation, in
the knowledge of Pat Donahue's estimate of a
peculiar type of ball-player, Madge Ellston found
herself judging the man — ^bravely trying to resist
his charm, to be fair to him and to herself.

Carroll soon made his way to her side and
greeted her with his old familiar manner of pos-
session. However irritating it might be to Madge
when alone, now it held her bound.

Carroll possessed the elemental attributes of a

154 THE REDHEADED OUTFIELD

conqueror. When with him Madge whimsicany
feared that he wonld snatch her np in his arms
and carry her bodily off, as the warriors of old
did with the women they wanted. Bnt she began
to believe that the fascination he exercised npon
her was merely physical. That gave her panse.
Not only was Bnms Carroll on trial, but also a
very foolish fluttering little moth — herself. It
was time enongh, however, to be stem with her-
self after she had tried him.

** Wasn't that a splendid catch of Crane's to-
day f she asked.

^'A Incky stab! Crane has a habit of running
round like an ostrich and sticking out a hand to
catch a ball. It's a grand-stand play. Why, a
good outfielder would have been waiting under
that fly."

^'Dalgren did fine work in the box, don't you
think?"

''Oh, the kid's all right with an old head back
of the plate. He's wild, though, and will never
make good in fast company. I won his game to-
day. He wouldn't have lasted an inning without
me. It was dead wrong for Pat to pitch him.
Dalgren simply can't pitch and he hasn't sand
enough to learn."

A hot retort trembled upon Madge Ellston's
lips, but she withheld it and quietly watched Car-
roll. How complacent he was, how utterly self-
contained!

THE KNOCKER 155

** And Billie Sheldon— wasn't it good to see him
brace? What hitting I . . . That home

rnn!*'

"Sheldon flashed up today. That's the worst
of such players. This talk of his slump is all rot.
When he joined the team he made some lucky hits
and the papers lauded him as a comer, but he
soon got down to his real form. Why, to break
into a game now and then, to shut his eyes and
hit a couple on the nose — ^that's not baseball.
Pat's given him ten days' notice, and his release
will be a good move for the team. Sheldon's not
fast enough for this league."

"I'm sorry. He seemed so promising," replied
Madge. "I liked Billy— pretty well."

"Yes, that was evident," said Carroll, firing
up. "I never could understand what you saw in
him. Why, Sheldon's no good. He "

Madge turned a white face that silenced Car-
rolL She excused herself and returned to the
parlor, where she had last seen her uncle. Not
finding him there, she went into the long corridor
and met Sheldon, Dalgren and two more of the
players. Madge congratulated the young pitcher
and the other players on their brilliant work ; and
they, not to be outdone, gallantly attributed the
day's victory to her presence at the game. Then,
without knowing in the least how it came about,
she presently found herself alone with Billy, and
they were strolling into the music-roouL

156 THE BEDHEADED OUTFIELD

"Madge, did I brace np!^^

The girl risked one quick look at hinL How
boyish he seemed, how eager I What an alto-
gether different Billie! But was the difference
all in him I Somehow, despite a conscious shyness
in the moment she felt natural and free, without
the uncertainty and restraint that had always
troubled her while with him.

**0h, Billie, that glorious home run!'^

* * Madge, wasn 't that hit a dandy f How I made
it is a mystery, but the bat felt like a feather. I
thought of you. Tell me — what did you think
when I hit that ball over the fence! '^

** Billie, I'll never, never tell you.''

"Yes — ^please — ^I want to know. Didn't you
think something — ^nice of me! "

The pink spots in Madge's cheeks widened to
crimson flames.

** Billie, are you still — crazy about met Now,
don't come so close. Can't you behave yourself?
And don't break my fingers with you terrible
baseball hands. . . . Well, when you made that
hit I just collapsed and I said "

^^Say it! Say it I" implored Billie.

She lowered her face and then bravely raised
it.

**I said, * Billie, I could hug you for that!' . . .
Billie, let me go I Oh, you mustn 't ! — ^please I ' '

Quite a little while afterward Madge remem-
bered to tell Billie that she had been seeking her

THE KNOCKER 157

ttncle. They met him and Pat Donahue, coming
ont of the parlor.

"Where have you been all evening?" demanded
Mr. EUston.

"Shnre it looks as if she's signed a new man-
ager," said Pat, his shrewd eyes twinkling.

The soft glow in Madge's cheeks deepened into
tell-tale scarlet; Billie resembled a schoolboy
stricken in guilt.

"Aha! so that's it?" queried her uncle.

"Ellston," said Pat. " Billie 's home-run drive
today recalled his notice an' if I don't miss guess
it won him another game — ^the best game in life/'

"By George!" exclaimed Mr. Ellston. "I was
afraid it was Carroll!"

He led Madge away and Pat followed wifh
BilUe.

"Shure, it was good to see you brace, Billie,**
said the manager, with a kindly hand on the young
man's arm. "I'm tickled to death. That ten
days' notice doesn't go. Seef I've had to shake
up the team but your job is good. I released
McBeady outright an' traded Carroll to Denver
for a catcher and a fielder. Some of the directors
hollered murder, an' I expect the fans will roar,
but I'm running this team, I'll have harmony
among my players. Carroll is a great catcher,
but he's a knocker."

THE WINNING BALL

Onb day in Ji^ly our Rochester dnb, leader in
the Eastern League, had returned to the hotel
after winning a double-header from the Syracuse
club. For some occult reason there was to be a
lay-off next day and then on the following another
double-header. These double-headers we hated
next to exhibition games. Still a lay-off for
twenty-four hours, at that stage of the race, was a
Godsend, and we received the news with exclama«^
tions of pleasure.

After dinner we were all sitting and smoking
comfortably in front of the hotel when our man*
ager, Morritt, came hurriedly out of the lobby^
It struck me that he appeared a little flustered.

"Say, you fellars," he said brusquely. "Pack
your suits and be ready for the bus at seven-
thirty."

For a moment there was a blank, ominous
silence, while we assimilated the meaning of his
terse fipeech.

159

160 THE REDHEADED OUTFIELD

**IVe got a good thing on for tomorrow," con-
tinued the manager. ** Sixty per cent gate re-
ceipts if we win. That Gnelph team is hot stuff,
though.'^

**GuelphI*' exclaimed some of the players sus-
piciously. "Where's Guelphf

"It's in Canada. Well take the night express
an' get there tomorrow in time for the game.
An' we'll hev to hustle."

Upon Merritt then rained a multiplicity of ex-
cuses. Gillinger was not well, and ought to have
that day's rest. Snead's eyes would profit by a
lay-off. Deerfoot Browning was leading itEe
league in base running, and as his legs were all
bruised and scraped by sliding, a manager who
was not an idiot would have a care of such valu-
able runmakers for his teanL Lake had "Charley-
horse." Hathaway 's arm was sore. Bane's
stomach threatened gastritis. Spike Doran's
finger needed a chance to heal. I was stale, and
the other players, three pitchers, swore their
arms should be in the hospital

"Cut it out!" said Merritt, getting exasper-
ated. "You'd all lay down on me — ^now, wouldn't
yout Well, listen to this: McDougal pitched to-
day; he doesn't go. Blake works Friday, he
doesn't go. But the rest of you puffed-up, high-
salaried stiffs pack your grips quick. Seet It 11
cost any fresh fellar fifty for missin' the train."

So that was how eleven of the Bochester team

THE WINNING BALL 161

found themselves moodily boarding a Pullman en
route for Buffalo and Canada. We went to bed

early and arose late.

Guelph lay somewhere in the interior of Can-
ada, and we did not exi)ect to get there until 1
o'clock.

As it turned out, the train was late ; we had to
dress hurriedly in the smoking room, pack our
citizen clothes in our grips and leave the train
to go direct to the ball grounds without time for
lunch.

It was a tired, dusty-eyed, peevish crowd of
ball players that climbed into a waiting bus at the
little station.

We had never heard of Guelph ; we did not care
anything about Bube baseball teams. Baseball
was not play to us; it was the hardest kind of
work, and of all things an exhibition game was an
abomination.

The Guelph players, strapping lads, met us with
every mark of respect and courtesy and escorted
TLS to the field with a brass band that was loud in
welcome, if not harmonious in tune.

Some 500 men and boys trotted curiously along
with us, for all the world as if the bus were a
circus parade cage filled with striped tigers.
What a rustic, motley crowd massed about in and
on that ball ground. There must have been 10,000.

The audience was strange to us. The Indians,
half-breeds, French-Canadians ; the huge, hulking.

162 THE EEDHEADED OUTFIELD

l)earded fanners or traders, or trappers, wliai-
ever they were, were new to onr baseball exi)eri-
ence.

The players themselves, however, earned the
largest share of onr attention. By the time they
had practiced a few moments we looked at Merritt
and Merritt looked at ns.

These long, powerfnl, big-handed lads evidently
did not know the difference between lacrosse and
baseball ; but they were quick as cats on their feet,
and they scooped np the ball in a way wonderful
to see. And throw! — ^it made a professional's
heart swell just to see them line the ball across
the diamond.

**Lord! what whips these lads have!'' ex-
claimed Merritt. "Hope we're not up against it.
If this team should beat us we wouldn't draw a
handful at Toronto. We can 't afford to be beaten.
Jump around and cinch the game quick. If we
get in a bad place. 111 sneak in the * rabbit.' "

The ** rabbit" was a baseball similar in appear-
ance to the ordinary league ball ; under its horse-
hide cover, however, it was remarkably different.

An ingenious fan, a friend of Merritt^ had re-
moved the covers from a number of league balls
and sewed them on rubber balls of his own mak-
ing. They could not be distinguished from the
regular article, not even by an experienced pro-
fessional — ^untU they were hit. Then! The fact
that after every bounce one of these rubber balls

THE WINNING BALL 163

bounded swifter and higher had given it the name
of the "rabbit/'

Many a game had the **rabbif won for ns at
critical stages. Of conrse it was against the rules
of the leagne^ and of conrse every player in the
league knew about it ; still, when it was judiciously
and cleverly brought into a close game, the ** rab-
bit" would be in play, and very probably over
the fence, before the opposing captain could learn
of it, let alone appeal to the umpire.

"Fellars, look at that guy who's goin* to pitch,"
suddenly spoke up one of the team.

Many as were the country players whom we
seasoned and traveled professionals had run
across, this twirler outclassed them for remark-
able appearance. Moreover, what put an entirely
different tinge to our momentary humor was the
discovery that he was as wild as a March hare
and could throw a ball so fast that it resembled a
pea shot from a boy's air gun.

Deerf oot led our batting list, and after the first
pitched ball, which he did not see, and the second,
which ticked his shirt as it shot past, he turned to
us with an expression that made us groan in-
wardly.

When Deerfoot looked that way it meant the
pitcher was dangerous. Deerfoot made no effort
to swing at the next ball, and was promptly called
out on strikes.

I was second at bat, and went up with some re-

164 THE REDHEADED OUTFIELD

Inctance. I happened to be leading the league in
both long distance and safe hitting, and I doted
on speed. Bnt having stopped many mean in-
shoots with various parts of my anatomy, I was
rather squeamish abont facing backwoods yaps
who had no control.

When I had watched a couple of his pitches,
which the umpire called strikes, I gave him credit
for as much speed as Busie. These balls were as
straight as a string, singularly without curve,
jump, or variation of any kind. I lined the next
one so hard at the shortstop that it cracked like
a pistol as it struck his hands and whirled him
half off his feet. Still he hung to the ball and
gave opportunity for the first crash of applause.

**Boys, he's a trifle wild,'' I said to my team-
mates, **but he has the most beautiful ball to hit
you ever saw. I don't believe he uses a curve,
and when we once time that speed well Mil if

Next inning, after old man Hathaway had
baffled the Canadians with his wide, tantalizing
curves, my predictions began to be verified. Snead
rapped one high and far to deep right field. To
our infinite surprise, however, the right fielder
ran with fleetness that made our own Deerfoot
seem slow, and he got xmder the ball and caught
it.

Doran sent a sizzling grasscutter down toward
left. The lanky third baseman darted over, dived
down, and, coming up with the ball, exhibited the

THE WINNING BALL 165

power of a throwing aim fhat made ns all green
with envy.

Then, when the catcher chased a f onl fly some-
where back in the crowd and canght it, we began
to take notice.

"Lncky stabs I *^ said Merritt cheerfully. "They
can't keep that np. Well drive him to the woods
next time/^

Bnt they did keep it np ; moreover, they became
more brilliant as the game progressed. What
with Hathaway 's heady pitching we soon disposed
of them when at the bat; onr turns, however,
owing to the wonderful fielding of these back-
woodsmen, were also fruitless.

Merritt, with his mind ever on the slice of gate
money coming if we won, began to fidget and fume
and find fault.

"You're a swell lot of champions, now, ain't
yout" he observed between innings.

All baseball players like to bat, and nothing
pleases them so much as base hits ; on the other
hand, nothing is quite so painful as to send out
hard liners only to see them caught. And it
seemed as if every man on our team connected
with that lanky twirler's fast high ball and hit
with the force that made the bat spring only to
have one of these rubes get his big hands upon
it

Considering that we were in no angelic frame
of mind before the game started, and in view of

166 THE REDHEADED OUTFIELD

Merritt's persistently increasing ill hnmor, this
failure of onrs to hit a ball safely gradually
worked ns into a kind of frenzy. From indiffer-
ence we passed to determination, and from that
to sheer passionate purpose.

Lnck appeared to be turning in the sixth inning.
With one out, Lake hit a beauty to right. Doran
beat an infield grounder and reached first. Hath-
away struck out.

With Browning up and me next, the situation
looked rather precarious for the Canadians.

**Say, Deerfoot,*' whispered Merritt, "diraip
one down the third-base line. He's playin' deep.
It's a pipe. Then the bases will be full an' Bed-
dyll clean up.**

In a stage like that Browning was a man abso-
lutely to depend upon. He placed a slow bunt
in the grass toward third and sprinted for first.
The third baseman fielded the ball, but, being
confused, did not know where to throw it.

** Stick it in your basket," yelled Merritt, in a
delight that showed how hard he was pulling for
the gate money, and his beaming smile as he
turned to me was inspiring. ^*Now, Eeddy, it's
up to you I I'm not worrying about what's hap-
pened so far. I know, with you at bat in a pinch,
it's all off I"

Merritt's compliment was pleasing, but it did
not augment my purpose, for that already had
reached the highest mark. Love of hitting, if no

THE WINNING BAUj 167

other thing, gave me the thrilling fire to arise to
the opportunity. Selecting my light bat, I went
up and faced the rustic twirler and softly said

things to him.

He delivered the ball, and I could have yelled
aloud, so fast, so straight, so true it sped toward
me. Then I hit it harder than I had ever hit a
ball in my life. The bat sprung, as if it were
whalebone. And the ball took a bullet course b^
tween center and left. So beautiful a hit was it
that I watched as I ran.

Out of the tail of my eye I saw the center
fielder running. When I rounded first base I got
a good look at this fielder, and though I had seen
the greatest outfielders the game ever produced,
I never saw one that covered ground so swiftly
as he.

On the ball soared, and began to drop ; on the
fielder sped, and began to disappear over a little
hill back of his position. Then he reached up witfi
a long arm and marvelously caught the ball in
one hand. He went out of sight as I touched sec-
ond base, and the heterogeneous crowd knew
about a great play to make more noise than a herd
of charging buffalo.

In the next half inning our opponents, by clean
drives, scored two runs and we in our turn again
went out ignominiously. When the first of the
eighth came we were desperate and clamored for
the "rabbit.'^

168 THE REDHEADED OUTFIELD

**IVe sneaked it in,*' said Merritt, with a low
voice. **Got it to the nmpire on the last passed
ball. See, the pitcher's got it now. Boys, it's all
oflf bnt the fireworks! Now, break loose 1"

A pecnliarity about the **rabbif was the fact
that though it felt as light as the regulation league
ball it could not be thrown with the same speed
and to curve it was an impossibility.

Bane hit the first delivery from our hoosier
stumbling block. The ball struck the ground and
began to bound toward short. With every boimd
it went swifter, longer and higher, and it bounced
clear over the shortstop's head. Lake chopped
one in front of the plate, and it rebounded from
the ground straight up so high that both runners
were safe before it came down.

Doran hit to the pitcher. The ball caromed
his leg, scooted fiendishly at the second baseman,
and tried to run up all over him like a tame
squirrel. Bases full!

Hathaway got a safe fly over the infield and two
runs tallied. The pitcher, in spite of the help of
the umpire, could not locate the plate for Bal-
knap, and gave him a base on balls. Bases full
again!

Deerfoot slammed a hot liner straight at the
second baseman, which, striking squarely in his
hands, recoiled as sharply as if it had struck a
wall. Doran scored, and still the bases were filled^

The laboring pitcher began to get rattled; he

THE WINNING BALL 169

could not jQnd his usual speed; he knew it, but
evidently could not account for it.

When I came to bat, indications were not want-
ing that the Canadian team would soon be up in
the air. The long pitcher delivered the "rab-
bit,'' and got it low down by my knees, which
was an unfortunate thing for him. I swung on
that one, and trotted round the bases behind the
runners while the center and left fielders chased
the ball.

Gillinger weighed nearly two hundred pounds,
and he got all his weight under the ** rabbit.*' It
went so high that we could scarcely see it. All
the infielders rushed in, and after staggering
around, with heads bent back, one of them, the
shortstop, managed to get under it. The ** rab-
bit" bounded forty feet out of his hands!

When Snead's grounder nearly tore the third
baseman's leg off; when Bane's hit proved as
elusive as a flitting shadow; when Lake's liner
knocked the pitcher flat, and Doran's fly leaped
high out of the center fielder's glove — ^then those
earnest, simple, country ballplayers realized
something was wrong. But they imagined it was
in themselves, and after a short spell of rattles,
they steadied up and tried harder than ever. The
motions they went through trying to stop that
jumping jackrabbit of a ball were ludicrous in
the extreme.

Finally, through a foul, a short fly, and a scratch

170 THE REDHEADED OUTFIELD

hit to first, they retired the side and we went ii
the field with the score 14 to 2 in our favor.

Bnt Merritt had not f onnd it possible to get the
"rabbit'^ out of playl

We spent a fatefnlly anxions few moments
squabbling with the umpire and captain over the
'* rabbit/' At the idea of letting those herculean
railsplitters have a chance to hit the rubber ball
we felt our blood run cold.

"But this ball has a rip in it,*' blustered Gil-
linger. He lied atrociously. A microscope could
not have discovered as much as a scratch in that
smooth leather.

**Sure it has,'* supplemented Merritt, in the
suave tones of a stage villain. **We're used to
playin' with good balls.'*

"Why did you ring this one in on usf" asked
the captain. "We never threw out this ball. We
want a chance to hit it.'*

That was just the one thing we did not want
them to have. But fate played against us.

"Get up on your toes, now an* dust,** said Mer-
ritt. "Take your medicine, you lazy sit-in-front-
of -the-hotel stiffs ! Think of pay day I * *

Not improbably we all entertained the identical
thought that old man Hathaway was the last
pitcher under the sun calculated to be effective
with the "rabbit.** He never relied on speed;
in fact, Merritt often scornfully accused him of
being unable to break a pane of glass; he used

THE WINNING BALL 171

principally what we called floaters and a change
of pace. Both styles were absolutely impractical
with the '* rabbit/'

"It's comin' to ns, all right, all right!'' yelled

Deerfoot to me, across the intervening grass. I
was of the opinion that it did not take any genius
to make Deerfoot 's ominous prophecy.

Old man Hathaway gazed at Merritt on the
bench as if he wished the manager could hear
what he was calling him and then at his fellow-
players as if both to warn and beseech them.
Then he pitched the "rabbit."

Crack !

The big lumbering Canadian rapped the ball
at Crab Bane. I did not see it, because it went
so fast, but I gathered from Crab^s actions that
it must have been hit in his direction. At any
rate, one of his legs flopped out sidewise as if
it had been suddenly jerked, and he fell in a heap.
The ball, a veritable * ^ rabbit ' ' in its wild jumps,
headed on for Deerfoot, who contrived to stop it
with his knees.

The next batter resembled the first one, and
the hit likewise, only it leaped wickedly at Doran
and went through his hands as if they had been
paper. The third man batted up a very high fly
to Gillinger. He clutched at it with his huge
shovel hands, but he could not hold it. The way
he pounced upon the ball, dug it out of the irrass.
and hurled it at Hathaway, showed his anger.

172 THE EEDHEADED OUTFIELD

Obviously Hathaway had to stop the throw,
for he could not get ont of the road, and he spoke
to his captain in what I knew were no compli-
mentary terms.

Thns began retribution. Those husky lads con-
tinued to hammer the **rabbif at the infielders,
and as it bounced harder at every bounce so they
batted harder at every bat.

Another singular feature about the ** rabbit'^
was the seeming impossibility for professionals
to hold it. Their familiarity with it, their under-
standing of its vagaries and inconsistencies, their
mortal dread made fielding it a much more diiB-
cult thing than for their opponents.

By way of variety, the lambasting Canadians
commenced to lambast a few over the hills and
far away, which chased Deerfoot and me until
our tongues lolled out.

Every time a run crossed the plate the motley
crowd howled, roared, danced and threw up their
hats. The members of the batting team pranced
up and down the side lines, giving a splendid imi-
tation of cannibals celebrating the occasion of a
feast.

Once Snead stooped down to trap the "rab-
bit,** and it slipped through his legs, for which
his comrades jeered him unmercifully. Then a
brawny batter sent up a tremendously high fly
between short and third.

"You take it!** yelled Gillinger to Bane.

THE WINNING BALL 173

"You take it!" replied the Crab, and actually
walked backward That ball went a nfiile high.
The sky was hazy, gray, the most perplexing in
which to judge a fly ball. An ordinary fly gave
trouble enough in the gauging.

Gillinger wandered around under the ball for
what seemed an age. It dropped as swiftly as a
rocket shoots upward. Gillinger went forward
in a circle, then sidestepped, and threw up his
broad hands. He misjudged the ball, and it hit
him fairly on the head and bounced almost to
where Doran stood at second.

Our big captain wilted. Time was called. But
Gillinger, when he came to, refused to leave the
game and went back to third with a lump on his
head as large as a goose egg.

Every one of his teammates was sorry, yet
every one howled in glee. To be hit on the head
was the unpardonable sin for a professional.

Old man Hathaway gradually lost what little
speed he had, and with it his nerve. Every time
he pitched the ** rabbit^' he dodged. That was
about the funniest and strangest thing ever seen
on a ball field. Yet it had an element of tragedy.

Hathaway 's expert contortions saved his head
and body on divers occasions, but presently a low
bounder glanced off the grass and manifested an
affinity for his leg.

We all knew from the crack and the way the
pitcher went down that the ** rabbit" had put him

174 THE REDHEADED OUTFIELD

out of the game. The umpire called time, and
Merritt came running on the diamond.

^^Hard luck, old man/' said the manager.
'^That'll make a green and yellow spot all right.
Boys, we're still two runs to the good. There's
one out, an' we can win yet. Deerfoot, you're as
badly crippled as Hathaway. The bench for
yours. Hooker will go to center, an' 111 pitch."

Merritt 's idea did not strike us as a bad one.
He could pitch, and he always kept his arm in
prime condition. We welcomed him into the fray
for two reasons — because he might win the game,
and because he might be overtaken by the base-
ball Nemesis.

While Merritt was putting on Hathaway 's base-
ball shoes, some of us endeavored to get the ^'rab-
bit" away from the umpire, but he was too wise.

Merritt received the innocent-looking ball with
a look of mingled disgust and fear, and he sum-
marily ordered us to our positions.

Not far had we gone, however, when we were
electrified by the umpire's sharp words:

**Naw! Naw, you don't. I saw you change the
ball I gave you fer one in your pocket I Nawt
You don't come enny of your American dodges
on us I Ginunee thet ball, an' you use the other,
or 111 stop the game."

Wherewith the shrewd umpire took the ball from
Merritt 's hand and fished the ^^ rabbit" from his
pocket. Our thwarted manager stuttered his

THE WINNING BALL 175

wratL **Y-you be-be-wh-whiskered y-yapl ITI
g-g-give ''

What dire threat he had in mind never ma-
terialized, for he became speechless. He glowered
upon the cool little umpire, and then tamed
grandly toward the plate.

It may have been imagination, yet I made snre
Merritt seemed to shrink and grow smaller before
he pitched a ball. For one thing the plate was
uphill from the pitcher *s box, and then the fellow
standing there loomed np like a hill and swung
a bat that would have served as a wagon tongue.
No wonder Merritt evinced nervousness. Pres-
ently he whirled and delivered the ball.

Bing!

A dark streak and a white puff of dust over
second base showed how safe that hit was. By
dint of manful body work. Hooker contrived to
stop the "rabbif in mid-center. Another run
scored. Human nature was proof against this
temptation, and Merritt 's players tendered him
manifold congratulations and dissertations.

** Grand, you old skinflint, grand!'*

** There was a two-dollar bill stickin' on thet

hit Why didn't you stop it! ''
'*Say, Merritt, what little brains you Ve got will

presently be ridin' on the 'rabbit.' "
*'You will chase up these exhibition games!"
* * Take your medicine now. Ha I Ha ! Ha I ' '
After these merciless taunts, and particularly

176 THE REDHEADED OUTFIELD

after the next slashing hit that tied the score, Mer^
ritt looked appreciably smaller and hnmbler.

He threw up another ball, and actually shied as
it neared the plate.

The giant who was waiting to sing it evidently
thonght better of his eagerness as far as that pitch
was concerned, for he let it go by.

Merritt got the next ball higher. With a mighty
swing, the batsman hit a terrific liner right at the
pitcher.

Quick as lightning, Merritt wheeled, and the
ball struck him with the sound of two boards
brought heavily together with a smack.

Merritt did not fall; he melted to the ground
and writhed while the runners scored with more
tallies than they needed to win.

What did we care? Justice had been done us,
and we were unutterably happy. Crabe Bane
stood on his head; Gillinger began a war dance;
old man Hathaway hobbled out to the side lines
and whooped like an Indian; Snead rolled over
and over in the grass. All of us broke out into
typical expressions of baseball frenzy, and indi-
vidual ones illustrating our particular moods.

Merritt got up and made a dive for the ball.
With face positively flaming he flung it far beyond
the merry crowd, over into a swamp. Then he
limped for the bench. Which throw ended the
most memorable game ever recorded to the credit
ofthe'^rabbit.*'

FALSE COLOES

**Fatb has decreed more bad luck for Salisbury
in Saturday's game with Bellville. It has leaked
out that our rivals "will come over strengthened
by a 'ringer/ no less than Tale's star pitcher,
Wayne. We saw him shut Princeton out in June,
in the last game of the college year, and we are
not optimistic in our predictions as to what Salis-
bury can do with him. This appears a rather unfair
procedure for Bellville to resort to. Why
couldn't they come over with their regular teamf
They have won a game, and so have we; both
games were close and brilliant ; the deciding game
has roused xmusual interest. We are inclined to
resent Bellville 's methods as unsportsmanlike.
All our players can do is to go into this game on
Saturday and try the harder to win."

Wayne laid down the Salisbury Gazette, with a
little laugh of amusement, yet feeling a vague,
disquieting sense of something akin to regret.

** Pretty decent of that chap not to roast me,'^
he soliloquized.

177

178 THE BEDHEADED OUTFIELD

Somewhere he had heard that Salisl^nry main-
tained an unsalaried teanu It was notorions
among college athletes that the BellviUe Club paid
for the services of distinguished players. And
this in itself rather inclined Wayne to sympathize
with Salisbury. He knew something of the strug-
gles of a strictly amateur club to cope with its
semi-professional rivals.

As he was sitting there, idly tipped back in a
comfortable chair, dreaming over some of the
baseball disasters he had survived before his col-
lege career, he saw a young man enter the lobby
of the hotel, speak to the clerk, and then turn and
come directly toward the window where Wayne
was sitting.

**Are you Mr. Wayne, the Tale pitcher?
he asked eagerly. He was a fair-haired,
clean-cut young fellow, and his voice rang pleas-
antly.

* * Guilty, ' ' replied Wayne.

**My name^s Huling. I^m captain of the Salis-
bury nine. Just learned you were in town and
are going to pitch against us tomorrow. Won't
you walk out into the grounds with me nowt
You might want to warm up a little."

** Thank you, yes, I will Guess I won't need
my suit. I'll just limber up, and give my arm a
good rub."

It struck Wayne before they had walked ^^^
that Huling was an amiable and likable chap. As

>>

FALSE COLORS 179

the captain of the Salisbury nine, he certainly
had no reason to be agreeable to the Morristown
** ringer/' even though Wayne did happen to be
a famous Yale pitcher.

The field was an oval, green as an emerald, level
as a billiard table, and had no fences or stands
to obstruct the open view of the surrounding
wooded country. On each side of the diamond
were rows of wooden benches, and at one end of
the field stood a little clubhouse.

Wayne took off his coat, and tossed a ball for
a while to an ambitious youngster, and then went
into the clubhouse, where Huling introduced him
to several of his players. After a good rubdown,
Wayne thanked Huling for his courtesy, and
started out, intending to go back to town.

**Why not stay to see us practiced asked the
captain. **We're not afraid you'll size up our
weaknesses. As a matter of fact, we don't look
forward to any hitting stunts tomorrow, eh,
Bumst Bums, here, is our leading hitter, and
he's been unusually noncommittal since he heard
who was going to pitch for Bellville."

**Well, I wouldn't give a whole lot for my pros-
pects of a home run tomorrow, ' ' said Bums, with
a laugh.

Wayne went outside, and found a seat in the
'shade. A number of urchins had trooped upon
the green field, and carriages and motors were al
ready in evidence. By the time the players cam^

180 THE EEDHEADED OUTFIELD

out of the dressing room, ready for practice, there
■was quite a little crowd in attendance.

Despite Wayne's hesitation, Holing insisted
upon introducing him to friends, and finally hanled
him np to a big tonring car fnll of girls. Wayne,
being a Yale pitcher, had seen several thousand
pretty girls, but the gronp in that automobile
fairly dazzled him. And the last one to whom
Hnling presented him — ^with the words: "Dor-
othy, this is Mr. Wayne, the Tale pitcher, who is
to play with Bellville tomorrow; Mr. Wayne, my
sister '^ — was the girl he had known he would
meet some day.

"Climb up, Mr. Wayne. We can make room,'*
invited Miss Huling.

Wayne thought the awkwardness with which he
found a seat beside her was unbecoming to a Yale
senior. But, considering she was the girl he had
been expecting to discover for years, his clumsi-
ness bespoke the importance of the event. The
merry laughter of the girls rang in his ears.
Presently, a voice detached itself from the others,
and came floating softly to him.

"Mr. Wayne, so you're going to wrest our
laurels from usf asked Miss Huling.

"I don't know — ^I'm jiot infallible — ^IVe been
beaten."

"WhenT Not this season?" she inquired
quickly, betraying la knowledge of his record
tiiat surprised and pleased him. "Mr. Wayne,

FALSE COLORS 181

I "was at the Polo Grounds on Jnne fifteenth."

Her white hand Kghtly touched the Princeton
pin at her neck. Wayne roused suddenly out of
his trance. The girl was a Princeton girl ! The
gleam of her golden hair, the flash of her blue
eyes, became clear in sight.

**I'm very pleased to hear it/' he replied.

**It was a great game, Mr. Wayne, and you may
weU be proud of your part in winning it. I
shouldn't be surprised if you treated the Salis-
bury team to the same coat of whitewash. We
girls are up in arms. Our boys stood a fair chance
to win this game, but now there's a doubt. By
the way, are you acquainted in Bellvillet"

"No. I met Beed, the Bellville captain, in New
fork this week. He had already gotten an extra
pitcher — ^another ringer — ^for this game, but he
said he preferred me, if it could be arranged."

While conversing, Wayne made note of the fact
that the other girls studiously left him to Miss
Huling. If the avoidance had not been so marked^
he would never have thought of it.

**Mr. Wayne, if your word is not involved — will
you change your mind and pitch tomorrow's game
for us instead of Bellville!'^

Quite amazed, Wayne turned squarely to look
at Miss Huling. Instead of disarming his quick
suspicion, her cool, sweet voice, and brave, blue
eyes confirmed it. The charms of the captain's
sister were to be used to win him away from the

182 THE BEDHEADED OUTFIELD

Bellvillc nine. He knew fhe trick; it Iiad been
played npon him before.

Bnt never had any other such occasion giveii
him a feeling of regret. This case was different
She was the girl. And she meant to flirt with him,
to nse her eyes for all they were worth to en-
compass the Waterloo of the rival team.

No, he had made a mistake, after all — she was
not the real girl. Suddenly conscious of a little
shock of pain, he dismissed that dream girl from
his mind, and determined to meet Miss Huling
half way in her game. He could not flirt as well
as he could pitch ; still, he was no novice.

**Well, Miss Huling, my word certainly is not
involved. But as to pitching for Salisbury — that
depends.'^

''Upon whatt'^

"Upon what there is in it.*^

"Mr. Wayne, you mean — ^moneyl Oh, I know.
My brother Bex told me how you college men are
paid big sums. Our association will not give a
dollar, and, besides, my brother knows nothing of
this. But we girls are heart and soul on winning
this game. Well *'

"Miss Huling, I didn't mean remuneration in
sordid cash,'' interrupted Wayne, in a tone that
heightened the color in her cheeks.

Wayne eyed her keenly with mingled emotions.
Was that rose-leaf flush in her cheeks natural?
Some girls could blush at will. Were the wistful

FALSE COLORS 183

eyes, the earnest lips, only slianmiingT It cost
him some bitterness to decide that they were.
Her beauty fascinated, while it hardened him-
Eternally, the beauty of women meant the undo-
ing of men, whether they played the simple, in-
consequential game of baseball, or the great,
absorbing, mutable game of life.

The shame of the situation for him was increas-
ingly annoying, inasmuch as this lovely girl
should stoop to flirtation with a stranger, and the
same time draw him, allure him, despite the ai>-
parent insincerity.

'^Miss Huling, 111 pitch your game for two
things," he continued.

**Name them.''

''Wear Yale blue in place of that orange-and-
black Princeton pin.'^

''I will.'' She said it with a shyness, a look in
her eyes that made Wayne wince. What a i>er-
f ect little actress t But there seemed just a chance
that this was not deceit. For an instant he
wavered, held back by subtle, finer intuition ; then
he beat down the mounting influence of truth in
those dark-blue eyes, and spoke deliberately:

''The other thing is — ^if I win the game — ^a
kiss.'*

Dorothy Huling 's face flamed scarlet. But this
did not affect Wayne so deeply, though it showed
him his mistake, as the darkening shadow of disai>-
pointment in her eyes. If she had been a flirty

184 THE REDHEADED OUTFIELD

she would have been prei>ared for mdeness. He
began casting about in his mind for some apology,
some mitigation of his offense; but as he was
abont to speak, the sndden fading of her color,
leaving her pale, and the look in her proud, dark
eyes disconcerted him ont of utterance.

** Certainly, Mr. Wayne. I agree to your price
if you win the game.'^

But how inmieasurable was the distance be-
tween the shy consent to wear Yale blue, and the
pale, surprised agreement to his second proposal I
Wayne experienced a strange sensation of per-
sonal loss.

While he endeavored to find his tongue, Miss
Huling spoke to one of the boys standing near,^
and he started off on a run for the field. Presently
Huling and the other players broke for the car,
soon surrounding it in breathless anticipation.

** Wayne, is it straight? You 11 pitch for us
tomorrow f demanded the captain, with shining
eyes.

"Surely I will. BellviUe don't need me.
TheyVe got Mackay, of Georgetown,'' replied
Wayne.

Accustomed as he was to being mobbed by en-
thusiastic students and admiring friends, Wayne
could not but feel extreme embarrassment at the
reception accorded him now. He felt that he was
sailing under false colors. The boys mauled him,
the girls fluttered about him with glad laughter^

FALSE COLORS 185

He had to tear himself away; and when he finally
reached his hotel, he went to his room, with his
mind in a tnmnlt.

Wayne cursed himself roundly ; then he fell into
deep thought He began to hope he could retrieve
the blunder. He would win the game ; he would
explain to her the truth ; he would ask for an op-
portunity to prove he was worthy of her f riend-
fihip; he would not mention the kiss. This last
thought called up the soft curve of her red lips
and that it was possible for him to kiss her made
the temptation strong.

His sleep that night was not peaceful and
dreamless. He awakened late, had breakfast sent
to his room, and then took a long walk out into
the country. After lunch he dodged the crowd in
the hotel lobby, and hurried upstairs, where he
put on his baseball suit. The first person he met
upon going down was Beed, the Bellville man.

""What's this I hear, Wayne, about your pitch-
ing for Salisbury today? I got your telegram.*'

"Straight goods,*' replied Wayne.

"But I thought you intended to pitch for usf

**I didn't promise, did I?"

"No. Still, it looks fishy to me."

"You've got Mackay, haven't you?"

"Yes. The truth is, I intended to use you
both."

"Well, 111 try to win for Salisbury. Hope
there's no hard feeling."

186 THE REDHEADED OUTFIELD

tl

Not at all. Only if I didn't have the George-
town crack, I'd yell murder. As it is, well trim
Salisbury anyway.''

** Maybe," answered Wayne, langhing. **It*s
a hot day, and my arm feels good. ' '

When Wayne reached the ball grounds, he
thought he had never seen a more inspiring sight.
The bright green oval was surrounded by a glit-
tering mass of white and blue and black. Out
along the foul lines were carriages, motors, and
tally-hos, brilliant with waving fans and flags.
Over the field murmured the low hum of many

voices.

Here you are ! ' ' cried Huling, making a grab
for Wayne. ** Where were you this morning!
We couldn't find you. Come! We've got a min-
ute before the practice whistle blows, and I prom-
ised to exhibit you."

He hustled Wayne down the first-base line, past
the cheering crowd, out among the motors, to the
same touring car that he remembered. A bevy of
white-gowned girls rose like a covey of ptarmi-
gans, and whirled flags of maroon and gray.

Dorothy Huling wore a bow of Yale blue upon
her breast, and Wayne saw it and her face through
a blur.

** Hurry, girls; get it over. We've got to prac-
tice," said the captain.

In the merry melee some one tied a knot of
ribbon upon Wayne. Who it was he did not know;

FALSE COLORS 187

he saw only the averted face of Dorothy Hnling.
And as he returned to the field with a dull pang,
he determined he would make her indifference
disappear with the gladness of a victory for her
team.

The practice was short, but long enough for
Wayne to locate the glaring weakness of Salis-
bury at shortstop and third base. In fact, most
of the players of his team showed rather poor
form; they were overstrained, and plainly lacked
experience necessary for steadiness in an im-
portant game.

Bums, the catcher, however, gave Wayne con-
fidence. He was a short, sturdy youngster, with
all the earmarks of a coming star. Huling, the
captain, handled himself well at first base. The
Bellville players were more matured, and some of
them were former college cracks. Wayne saw
that he had his work cut out for hiuL

The whistle blew. The Bellville team trotted
to their position in the field; the umpire called
play, and tossed a ball to Mackay, the long, lean
Georgetown pitcher.

Wells, the first batter, fouled out ; Stamford hit
an easy bounce to the pitcher, and Clews put up
a little Texas leaguer — all going out, one, two,
three, on three pitched balls.

The teams changed from bat to field. Wayne
faced the plate amid vociferous cheering. He
felt that he could beat this team even without good

188 THE EEDHEADED OUTFIELD

support. He was in the finest condition, and his
arm had been resting for ten days. He knew that
if he had control of his high inshoot, these Bell-
ville players wonld feel the whiz of some speed
under their chins.

He struck Moore out, retired Beed on a measly
fly, and made Clark hit a weak grounder to sec-
ond ; and he walked in to the bench assured of the
outcome. On some days he had poor control ; on
others his drop ball refused to work properly;
but, as luck would have it, he had never had
greater speed or accuracy, or a more bewildering
fast curve than on this day, when he meant to
win a game for a girl.

"Boys, I Ve got everything, '* he said to his fel-
low-players, calling them around him. ** A couple
of runs will win for us. Now, listen, I know
Mackay. He hasn't any speed, or much of a curve.
All he 's got is a teasing slow ball and a foxy head.
Don't be too anxious to hit. Make him put 'em
over."

But the Salisbury players were not proof
against the tempting slow balls that Mackay de-
livered. They hit at wide curves far off the plate,
and when they did connect with the ball it was
only to send an easy chance to the infielders.

The game seesawed along, inning after inning ;
it was a pitcher's battle that looked as if the first
run scored would win the game. Mackay toyed
with the Salisbury boys; it was his pleasure to

FALSE COLORS 189

toss Tip twistingy floating balls that could scarcely
be hit out of the diamond. Wayne had the Bell-
ville players utterly at his mercy ; he mixed np his
high jnmp and fast drop so cleverly, with his
sweeping ont-curve, that his opponents were un-
able to gauge his delivery at all.

Li the first of the seventh, Barr for Bellville
hit a ball which the third baseman should have
fielded. But he fumbled. The second batter sent
i& fly to shortstop, who muffed it. The third
Mtter reached his base on another error by an
infielder. Here the bases were crowded, and the
situation had become critical all in a moment.
Wayne believed the infield would go to pieces, and
lose the game, then and there, if another hit went
to short or third.

** Steady up, boys,'^ called Wayne, and beck-
oned for his catcher.

**Bums, it's up to you and me,'* he said, in a
low tone. **IVe got to fan the rest of these hit-
ters. You're doing splendidly. Now, watch close
for my drop. Be ready to go down on your knees.
When I let myself out, the ball generally hits the
ground just back of the plate.''

"Speed 'em over!" said Bums, his sweaty face
grim and determined. "I'll get in front of 'em."

The head of the batting list was up for Bell-
ville, and the whole Bellville contingent on the
side lines rose and yelled and cheered.

Moore was a left-handed hitter, who choked his

190 THE REDHEADED OUTFIELD

bat up short, and poked at the ball. He was a
good bunter, and swift on his feet. Wayne had
taken his measnre, as he had that of the other
players, earlier in the game ; and he knew it was
good pitching to keep the ball in close to Moore's
hands, so that if he did hit it, the chances were
it wonld not go safe.

Snnunoning all his strength, Wayne took his
long swing and shot the ball over the inside cor-
ner with terrific speed.

One strike I

Wayne knew it wonld not do to waste any balls
if he wished to maintain that speed, so he pnt
the second one in the same place. Moore struck
too late.

Two strikes!

Then Bnms signed for the last drop. Wayne
delivered it with trepidation, for it was a hard
cnrve to handle. Moore fell all over himself try-
ing to hit it. Little Bnms dropped to his knees
to block the vicious cnrve. It struck the ground,
and, glancing, boomed deep on the breast pro-
tector.

How the Salisbury supporters roared their ap*
proval I One man out — ^the bases full— with Beed,
the slugging captain, at bat !

If Eeed had a weakness, Wayne had not dis-
covered it yet, although Beed had not hit safely.
The captain stood somewhat back from the plate,
a fact that induced Wayne to try him with the

FALSE COLORS 191

speedy ontcurve. Reed lunged with a powerful
ewingy pulling away from the plate, and he missed
the curve by a foot.

Wayne did not need to know any more. Reed
had made his reputation slugging straight balls
from heedless pitchers. He chopped the air twice
more, and flung his bat savagely to the ground.

**Two out — ^play the hitter!'' called Wayne to
his team.

Clarky the third man up, was the surest batter
on the Bellville team. He looked dangerous. He
had made the only hit so far to the credit of his
team. Wayne tried to work him on a high, fast
ball close in. Clark swung freely and cracked a
ripping liner to left. Half the crowd roared, and
then groaned, for the beautiful hit went foul by
several yards. Wa3ntie wisely decided to risk all
on his fast drop. Clark missed the first, fouled
the second.

Two strikes!

Then he waited. He cooly let one, two, three
of the fast drops go by without attempting to hit
them. Bums valiantly got his body in front of
thenoL. These balls were all over the plate, but too
low to be called strikes. With two strikes, and
three balls, and the bases full, Clark had the ad-
vimtage.

Tight as the place was, Wa3me did not flinch.
The game depended practically upon the next ball
delivered. Wayne craftily and dcuringly decided

192 THE EEDHBADED OUTFIELD

to use another fast drop, for of all his assortment
that would be the one least expected by Clark.
But it mnst be started higher, so that in case
Clark made no effort to swing, it would still be a
strike.

Gripping the ball with a clinched hand, Wayne
swnng sharply, and drove it home with the limit
of his power. It sped like a bnllet, waist high,
and jnst before reaching the plate darted down-
ward, as if it had glanced on an invisible barrier.

Clark was fooled completely and struck futilely.
But the ball caromed f j-om the hard ground, hit
Bums with a resounding thud, and bounced away.
Clark broke for first, and Moore dashed for home.
Like a tiger the little catcher pounced upon the
ball, and, leaping back into line, blocked the slid-
ing Moore three feet from the plate.

Pandemonium burst loose among the Salisbury
adherents. The men bawled, the women screamed,
the boys shrieked, and all waved their hats and
flags, and jumped up and down, and manifested
sjrmptoms of baseball insanity.

In the first of the eighth inning, Mackay sailed
up the balls like balloons, and disposed of three
batters on the same old weak hits to his clever
fielders. In the last of the eighth, Wayne struck
out three more Bellville players.

**Bums, you're up,'' said Wayne, who, in his
earnestness to win, kept cheering his comrades.
**Do something. Get your base any way you can*

'FALSE COLORS 193

Qet in fronii of one. We must score ffiis in-
ning.'^

Faithfoly battered Bums cunningly imposed his
hip over the plate and received another bmise in
the interests of his team. The opposing players
furiously stormed at the umpire for giving him
his base, but Bums' trick went through. Burnett
bunted skilfully, sending Bums to second. Cole
hit a fly to center. Then Huling singled between
short and third.

It became necessary for the umpire to delay the
game while he put the madly leaping boys back
off the coaching lines. The shrill, hilarious cheer-
ing gradually died out, and the field settled into a
forced quiet.

Wayne hurried up to the plate and took his posi-
tion. He had always been a timely hitter, and
he gritted his teeth in his resolve to settle this
game. Mackay whirled his long arm, wheeled,
took his long stride, and pitched a slow, tantaliz-
ing ball that seemed never to get anywhere. But
Wayne waited, timed it perfectly, and met it
squarely.

The ball flew safely over short, and but for a
fine sprint and stop by the left fielder, would have
resulted in* a triple, possibly a home run. As it
was. Bums and Huling scored ; and Wayne, by a
slide, reached second base. When he arose and
saw the disorderly riot, and heard the noise of
that well-dressed audience, he had a moment of

194 THE BEDHEADED OUTFIELD

exnltatioiL Then Wells flew out to center ending
the chances for more runs.

As Wayne received the ball in the pitcher's box,
he paused and looked ont across the field toward
a white-crowned motor car, and he caught a gleam
of Dorothy Hnling's golden hair, and wondered
if she were glad.

For nothing short of the miraculous could
snatch this game from him now. Bums had with-
stood a severe pounding, but he would last out
the inning, and Wayne did not take into account
the rest of the teamu He opened up with no slack-
ening of his terrific speed, and he struck out the
three remaining batters on eleven pitched balls.
Then in the rising din he ran for Bums and gave
him a mighty hug.

''You made the gamest stand of any catcher I
ever pitched to,*' he said warmly.

Burns looked at his quivering, puffed, and
bleeding hands, and smiled as if to say that this
was praise to reir>ember, and reward enough*
Then the crowd swooped down on them, and they
^ere swallowed up in the clamor and surge of
victory. When Wayne got out of the thick and
press of i^ he made a bee line for his hotel, and
by running a gauntlet managed to escape.

Besting, dressing, and dining were ntiatters
which he went through mechanically, with his
mind ever on one thing. Later, he found a dai^
comer of the porch and sat there waiting, think-

FALSE COLORS 195

ing. There was to be a dance given in honor of
fhe team that evening at the hotel. He watched
the boys and girls pass np the steps. When the
mnsic conunenced, he arose and went into the halL
It was bright with white gowns, and gay with
movement.

"There he is. Grab him, somebody,'^ yelled
Hnling.

"Do something for me, qnick,*' implored Wayne
of the captain, as he saw the yonng people wave
toward him.

"Salisbury is yours tonight,^* replied Huling.

"Ask your sister to save me one dance.'*

Then he gave himself up. He took his meed of
praise and flattery, and he withstood the battery
of arch eyes modestly, as became the winner of
many fields. But even the reception after the
Princeton game paled in comparison with this
impromptu dance.

She was here. Always it seemed, while he lis-
tened or talked or danced, his eyes were drawn to
a slender, graceful form, and a fair face crowned
with golden hair. Then he was making his way
to where she stood near one of the open windows.

He never knew what he said to her, nor what
reply she made, but she put her arm in his, and
presently they were gliding over the polished
floor. To Wayne the dance was a dream. He led
her through tiie hall and out upon the balcony,
where composure strangely came to him.

196 THE EEDHEADED OUTFIELD

"Mr. Wayne, I have to thank yon for saving
the day for ns. Ton pitched magnificently."

**I wonld have broken my arm to win that
game," bnrst ont Wayne. "Miss Hnling, I made
a blnnder yesterday. I thonght there was a con-
spiracy to persnade me to throw down Bellville.
IVe known of snch things, and I resented it.
Ton understand what I thonght. I hnmbly offer
my apologies, and beg that yon forget the rude
obligation I forced npon yon."

How cold she was! How unattainable in that
moment I He canght his breath, and mshed on.

"Tonr brother and the management of the dnb
have asked me to pitch for Salisbury the remainder
of the season. I shall be happy to— if "

"If whatT" She was all alive now, flushing
warmly, dark eyes alight, the girl of his dreams.

"If you will forgive me — ^if you will let me be
your friend — ^if — ^Miss Hnling, you will again wear
that bit of Tale blue."

"If, Mr. Wayne, you had very sharp eyes you
would have noticed that I still wear itl"

THE MANAGER OF MADDEN'S HILL

Willie Howakth loved baseball. He loved it
all the more because he was a cripple. The game
was more beautiful and wonderful to him because
he would never be able to play it. For Willie
had been bom with one leg shorter than the other ;
he could not run and at 11 years of age it was
all he could do to walk with a crutch.

Nevertheless Willie knew more about baseball
than any other boy on Madden 's Hill. An uncle
of his had once been a ballplayer and he had
taught Willie the fine points of the game. And
this uncle's ballplayer friends, who occasionally
visited him, had imparted to Willie the vernacular
of the game. So that Willie's knowledge of play-
ers and play, and particularly of the strange talk,
the wild and whirling words on the lips of the real
baseball men, made him the envy of every boy on
Madden 's Hill, and a mine of information. Willie
never missed attending the games played on the
lots, and he could tell why they were won or lost

197

198 THE EEDHEADED OUTFIELD

WilKe suffered considerable pain, mostly at
night, and this had given him a habit of lying
awake in the dark hours, grieving over that
crooked leg that forever shut him ont of the herit-
age of yonth. He had kept his secret well ; he was
accounted shy because he was quiet and had never
been able to mingle with the boys in their activity.
No one except his mother dreamed of the fire and
hunger and pain within his breast. His school-
mates called him " Daddy. '^ It was a name given
for his bent shoulders, his labored gait and his
thoughtful face, too old for his years. And no
one, not even his mother, guessed how that name
hurt Willie.

It was a source of growing unhappiness with
Willie that the Madden 's Hill boys were always
beaten by the other teams of the town. He really
came to lose his sadness over his own misfortune
in pondering on the wretched play of the Mad-
den's Hill baseball club. He had all a boy's
pride in the locality where he lived. And when
the Bogg's Farm team administered a crush-
ing defeat to Madden 's Hill, Willie grew des-
X)erate.

Monday he met Lane Griffith, the captain of
the Madden 's Hill nine.

"Hello, Daddy,'* said Lane. He was a big,
aggressive boy, and in a way had a fondness for
Willie.

^'Lane, you got an orful trimmin' up on the

THE MANAGER OF MADDEN 'S HILL 199

Boggs. What 'd yon wanter let them conntry jakes
beat yon for?"

* * Aw, Daddy, they was Incky. Umpire had hay-
seed in his eyesl Eobbed ns! He eonldn't see
straight. We'll trim them down here Saturday."

* * No, yon won 't — ^not without team work. Lane,
yonVe got to have a manager."

**Dnm it! Where 're we goin' to get onet"
Lane blurted out.

"Yon can sign me. I can't play, but I know the
game. Let me coach the boys."

The idea seemed to strike Capt. Griffith favor-
ably. He prevailed upon all the boys living on
Madden 's Hill to come out for practice after
school. Then he presented them to the manag-
ing coach. The boys were inclined to poke fun at
Daddy Howarth and ridicule him; but the idea
was a novel one and they were in such a state of
subjection from many beatings that they wel-
comed any change. Willie sat on a bench impro-
vised from a soap box and put them through a
drill of batting and fielding. The next day in his
coaching he included bunting and sliding. He
played his men in different positions and for three
more days he drove them unmercifully.

When Saturday came, the day for the game
with Bogg's Farm, a wild protest went up from
the boys. Willie experienced his first bitterness
as a manager. Out of forty aspirants for the
Madden 's Hill team he could choose but nine to

200 THE REDHEADED OUTFIELD

play the game. And as a conscientious manager
he conld nse no favorites. Willie picked the best
players and assigned them to positions that, in
his judgment, were the best snited to thenL Bob
Irvine wanted to play first base and he was down
for right field. Sam Wickhart thonght he was the
fastest fielder, and Willie had him slated to catch.
Tom Lindsay's feelings were hnrt becanse he was
not to play in the infield. Eddie Curtis suffered
a fall in pride when he discovered he was not down
to play second base. Jake Thomas, Tay-Tay
Mohler and Brick Grace all wanted to pitch. The
manager had chosen Frank Price for that im-
portant position, and Frank's one ambition was
to be a shortstop.

So there was a deadlock. For a while there
seemed no possibility of a game. Willie sat on the
bench, the center of a crowd of discontented,
quarreling boys. Some were jealous, some were
outraged, some tried to pacify and persuade the
others. All were noisy. Lane Grifl&th stood by
his manager and stoutly declared the players
should play the positions to which they had been
assigned or not at alL And he was entering into
a hot argument with Tom Lindsay when the
Bogg's Farm team arrogantly put in an appear-
ance.

The way that team from the country walked out
upon the field made a great difference. The spirit
of Madden 's Hill roused to battle. The game be-

THE MANAGER OP MADDEN 'S HILL 201

gan swiftly and went on wildly. It ended almost
before the Hill boys realized it bad commenced.
They did not know how they had won bnt they
gave Daddy Howarth credit for it They 'had a
bonfire that night to celebrate the victory and
they talked baseball nntil their parents became
alarmed and hnnted them up.

Madden 's Hill practiced all that next week and
on Saturday beat the Seventh Ward teauL In
four more weeks they had added half a dozen more
victories to their record. Their reputation went
abroad. They got uniforms, and baseball shoes
with spikes, and bats and balls and gloves. They
got a mask, but Sam Wickhart refused to catch
with it.

**Sam, one of these days you 11 be stoppin' a
high inshoot with your eye,'' sagely remarked
Daddy Howarth. **An* then where Tl I get a
catcher for the Natchez game?''

Natchez was the one name on the lips of every
Madden 's Hill boy. For Natchez had the great
team of the town and, roused by the growing re-
pute of the Hill club, had condescended to arrange
a game. When that game was scheduled for July
Fourth Daddy Howarth set to driving his men.
Early and late he had them out. This manager, in
keeping with all other famous managers, believed
that batting was the thing which won games. He
developed a hard-hitting team. He kept everlast-
ingly at them to hit and run, hit and run.

202 THE REDHEADED OUTFIELD

On the Saturday before the Fourth, Madden ^s
Hill had a game to play that did not worry
Daddy and he left his team in charge of the cai>-
tain.

** Fellers, I'm goin' down to the Round House
to see Natchez play. Ill size up their game,*'
fiaid Daddy.

When he returned he was glad to find that his
team had won its ninth straight victory, hut he
was not communicative in regard to the playing of
the Natchez club. He appeared more than usually
thoughtful.

The Fourth fell on Tuesday. Daddy had the
boys out Monday and he let them take only a
short, sharp practice. Then he sent them home.
In his own mind, Daddy did not have much hope
of beating Natchez. He had been greatly im-
pressed by their playing, and one inning toward
the close of the Round House game they had
astonished him with the way they suddenly seemed
to break loose and deluge their opponents in a
flood of hits and runs. He could not understand
this streak of theirs — for they did the same thing
every time they played — and he was too good a
baseball student to call it luck.

He had never wanted anything in his life, not
even to have two good legs, as much as he wanted
to beat Natchez. For the Madden 's Hill boys had
come to believe him infallible. He was their idoL
They imagined they had only to hit and run, to

THE MANAGES OF MADDEN 'S HILL 203

fight and never give up, and Daddy would make
fhem win. There was not a boy on the team who
believed that Natchez had a chance. They had
grown prond and tenacious of their dearly won
reputation. First of all, Daddy thought of his
team and their loyalty to him ; then he thought of
the glory lately come to Madden 's Hill, and lastly
of what it meant to him to have risen from a lonely
watcher of the game — a cripple who could not even
carry a bat — ^to manager of the famous Hill team.
It might go hard with the boys to lose this game,
but it would break his heart.

From time out of mind there had always been
rivalry between Madden ^s Hill and Natchez. And
there is no rivalry so bitter as that between boys.
So Daddy, as he lay awake at night planning the
system of play he wanted to use, left out of all
account any possibility of a peaceful game. It
was comforting to think that if it came to a fight
Sam and Lane could hold their own with Bo
Stranathan and Slugger Blandy.

In the managing of his players Daddy observed
strict discipline. It was no unusual thing for him
to fine theuL On practice days and ofiF th^ field
they implicitly obeyed him. During actual play,
however, they had evinced a tendency *o jump
over the traces. It had been his order for them
not to report at the field Tuesday until 2 o'clock.
He found it extremely difficult to curb his own
inclination to start before the set tim^. And only

204 THE REDHEADED OUTFIELD

the stem duty of a man to be an example to his
players kept Daddy at home.

He lived near the ball grounds, yet on this day,
as he hobbled along on his cratch, he thought the
distance interminably long, and for the first time
in weeks the old sickening resentment at his use-
less leg knocked at his heart. Manfully Daddy
refused admittance to that old gloomy visitor.
He found comfort and f orgetfulness in the thought
that no strong and swift-legged boy of his ac-
quaintance could do what he could do.

Upon arriving at the field Daddy was amazed
to see such a large crowd. It appeared that all
the boys and girls in the whole town were in at-
tendance, and, besides, there was a sprinkling of
grown-up people interspersed here and there
around the diamond. Applause greeted Daddy *8
appearance and members of his team escorted him
to the soap-box bench.

Daddy cast a sharp eye over the Natchez play-
ers practicing on the field. Bo Stranathan had
out his strongest team. They were not a prepos-
sessing nine. They wore soiled uniforms that did
not match in cut or color. But they pranced and
swaggered and strutted ! They were boastful and
boisterous. It was a trial for any Madden 's Hill
boy just to watch them.

"Wot a swelled bunch I'' exclaimed Tom Lind-
say.

** Fellers, if Slugger Blandy tries to pull any

THE MANAGER OP MADDEN 'S HILL 205

stunt on me today hell get a swelleder nut,'*
growled Lane GriflBith.

**T-t-t-t-t-te-te-tell him t-t-t-to keep out of
m-m-m-my way an' not b-b-b-b-bl-block me,'* stut-
tered Tay-Tay Mohler.

"We're a-goin' to skin 'em,'* said Eddie Cur-
tis.

"Cheese it, you kids, till we git in the game/'
ordered Daddy. "Now, Madden 's Hill, hang
round an' listen. I had to sign articles with
Natchez — ^had to let them have their umpire. So
we're up against it. But well hit this pitcher
Muckle Harris. He ain't got any steauL An' he
ain't got much nerve. Now every feller who goes
up to bat wants to talk to Muck. Call him a big
swelled stiff. Tell him he can't break a pane of
glass — ^tell him he can't put one over the pan —
tell him it he does you'll slam it down in the sand
bank. Bluff the whole team. Keep scrappy all
the time. See! That's my game today. This
Natchez bunch needs to be gone after. Holler at
the umpire. Act like you want to fight. ' '

Then Daddy sent his men out for practice.

"Boss, enny ground rules?" inquired Bo
Stranathan. He was a big, bushy-haired boy with
a grin and protruding teeth. "How many bases
on wild throws over first base an' hits over the
sandbankt"

"All you can get," replied Daddy, with a mag-
nanimous wave of hand*

206 THE REDHEADED OUTFIELD

"Huh I Lenunee see your ball?'*

Daddy produced the ball that he had Lane had
made for the game.

"Huh I Watcher think? We ain't goin* to play
with no mush ball like thet," protested Bo. "We
play with a hard ball. Looka here I Well trow
up the ball.*'

Daddy remembered what he had heard abont
the singular generosity of the Natchez team to
supply the balls for the games they played.

"We don't hev to pay nothin' fer them balls.
A man down at the Round House makes them for
us. They ain't no balls as good," explained Bo,
with pride.

However, as Bo did not appear eager to pass
over the balls for examination Daddy simply
reached out and took them. They were small, per-
fectly round and as hard as bullets. They had no
covers. The yam had been closely and tightly
wrapped and then stitched over with fine bees-
waxed thread. Daddy fancied he detected a dif-
ference in the weight of the ball, but Bo took them
back before Daddy could be sure of that point.

"You don't have to fan about it. I knffvt ft ball
when I see one," observed Daddy. •*5at TtoIw
on our own grounds an' we'll use ouF VwH l^alL
Thanks all the same to you, Stranathan.'*

"Huh I All I gotta say is well ^lay "Wit^L my
ball er there won't be no game,*^ Se^ 5d rad-
denly.

THE MANAGER OF MADDEN'S HILL 207

Daddy shrewdly eyed the Natchez captain. Bo
did not look like a fellow wearing himself thin
from generosity. It struck Daddy that Bo's habit
of supplying the ball for the game might have
some relation to the fact that he always carried
along his own umpire. There was a strange
feature about this umpire business and it was that
Bo 's man had earned a reputation for being par-
ticularly fair. No boy ever had any real reason
to object to Umpire Gale 's decisions. When Gale
umpired away from the Natchez grounds his close
decisions always favored the other team, rather
than his own. It all made Daddy keen and
thoughtful.

'^Stranathan, up here on Madden 's Hill we
know how to treat visitors. We '11 play with your
balL . . . Now keep your gang of rooters from
crowdin' on the diamond."

**Boss, it's your grounds. Fire *em off if they
don't suit you. . . . Come on, let's git in the
game. Watcher want — afield er bat?"

"Field," repHed Daddy briefly.

Billy Gale called **Play," and the game began
with Slugger Blandy at bat. The formidable way
in which he swung his club did not appear to have
any effect on Frank Price or the player back of
him. Frank's most successful pitch was a slow,
tantalizing curve, and he used it. Blandy lunged
at the ball, missed it and grunted.

"Frank, you got his alley," called Lane.

208 THE REDHEADED OUTFIELD

Slugger fouled the next one high in the air
back of the plate. Sam Wickhart, the stocky
bowlegged catcher, was a fiend for running after
f onl flies, and now he plunged into the crowd of
boys, knocking them right and left, and he caught
the ball, Whisner came up and hit safely over
Griffith, whereupon the Natchez supporters began
to howl. Kelly sent a grounder to Grace at short
stop. Daddy's weak player made a poor throw to
first base, so the runner was safe. Then Bo
Stranathan batted a stinging ball through the in-
field, scoring "Whisner.

**Play the batter! Play the batter!" sharply
called Daddy from the bench.

Then Frank struck out Molloy and retired Dun-
don on an easy fly.

** Fellers, git in the game now," ordered Daddy,
as his players eagerly trotted in. * * Say things to
that Muckle Harris! WeTl walk through this
game like sand through a sieve."

Bob Irvin ran to the plate waving his bat at
Harris.

* * Put one over, you f recklef ace I I Ve been dyin '
fer this chanst. You're on Madden 's Hill now."

Muckle evidently was not the kind of pitcher to
stand coolly under such bantering. Obviously he
was not used to it. His face grew red and his
hair waved up. Swinging hard, he threw the ball
straight at Bob's head. Quick as a cat, Bob
dropped flat.

THE MANAGER OF MADDEN ^S HILL 209

"Never touched me!'' he chirped, jumping up
and i>ounding the plate with his bat. ** You could-
n't hit a bam door. Come on. I'll paste one a
ndlel"

Bob did not get an opportunity to hit, for Harris
could not locate the plate and passed him to first
on four balls.

"Dump the first one," whispered Daddy in
Grace's ear. Then he gave Bob a signal to run
on the first pitch.

Grace tried to bimt the first ball, but he missed
it. His attempt, however, was so violent that he
) fell over in front of the catcher, who could not
i recover in time to throw, and Bob got to second
base. At this juncture, the Madden 's Hill band
of loyal supporters opened up with a mingling
of shrill yells and whistles and jangling of tin
cans filled with pebbles. Grace hit the next baU
into second base and, while he was being thrown
out. Bob raced to third. With Sam Wickhart up
it looked good for a score, and the crowd yelled
louder. Sam was awkward yet efficient, and he
batted a long fly to right field. The fielder muffed
the balL Bob scored, Sam reached second base,
and the crowd yelled still louder. Then Lane
struck out and Mohler hit to shortstop, retiring
the side.

Natchez scored a run on a hit, a base on balls,
and another error by Grace. Every time a ball
went toward Grace at short Daddy groaned. In

210 THE BEDHEADED OUTFIELD

their half of the inning Madden 's Hill made two
nmSy increasing the score 3 to 2.

The Madden 's Hill boys began to show the
strain of such a close contest If Daddy had
voiced alond his fear it would have been : "They'll
blow up in a minnit!'* Frank Price alone was
slow and cool, and he pitched in masterly style.
Natchez could not beat him. On the other hand.
Madden 's Hill hit Muck Harris hard, but superb
fielding kept runners off the bases. As Daddy's
team became more tense and excited Bo Strana-
than 's players grew steadier and more arrogantly
confident. Daddy saw it with distress, and he
could not realize just where Natchez had license
for such confidence. Daddy watched the game
with the eyes of *a hawk.

As the Natchez players trooped in for their
sixth inning at bat, Daddy observed a marked
change in their demeanor. Suddenly they seemed
to have been let loose; they were like a band of
Indians. Daddy saw everything. He did not miss
seeing Umpire Gale take a ball from his pocket
and toss it to Frank, and Daddy wondered if that
was the ball which had been in the play. Straight-
way, however, he forgot that in the interest of the
game.

Bo Stranathan bawled: **Wull, Injuns, hyar's
were we do 'em. We Ve jest ben loafin ' along. Git
ready to tear the air, you rooters I''

Kelly hit a wonderfully swift ball through the

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