im."

I had to make a strenuous effort to conceal my agitation. The Rube 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 talking 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 resentment, 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 players, 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 to marry the pitcher who won the game, and so
I told the Rube. 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; Raddy and Spears declared we had the
game; the Rube 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; Ashwell sacrificed and
Stringer laced one of his beautiful triples against the fence. Then he
scored on a high fly. Two runs! Worcester trotted out into the field.
The Rube was white with determination; he had the speed of a bullet and
perfect control of his jump ball and drop. But Providence 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 baffled my players, and when
he used speed they lined it straight at a Providence fielder.

In the sixth, after a desperate rally, we crowded the bases with only
one out. Then Mullaney's hard rap to left, seemingly good for three
bases, was pulled down by Stone with one ha