out 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 bleachers. Crane and Bluett advanced a base
on the throw-in. Then Kane batted up a high foul-fly. Burns 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
baseball 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 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 clean 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. Dazzling plays kept the
score down and the innings short. Over the fields hung the portent of
something to come, every player, every spectator 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
bleachers 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 long groan which rac