t to first
without special effort. He went down on the first pitch. Then Ash
lined to Carl. The Rube waited till the ball was caught and started
for home. The crowd screamed, the Rube ran for all he was worth and
Carl's throw to the plate shot in low and true. Ellis blocked the Rube
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 knew the Bisons
were losing no chance to wear out my pitcher. Stringer fouled out 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
Buffalo. But the Worcester infield played magnificent ball, holding
their opponents to one run each inning.

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

In the last half of the sixth, with Ash on first base and two men out,
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 full two
minutes before they quieted down. To make it all the more exciting,
Bogart hit safely, ran like a deer to third on Mullaney's grounder,
which Wiler knocked down, and scored on a passed ball. Gregg ended the
inning by striking out.

"Get at the Rube!" boomed Ellis, the Bison captain. "We'll have him up
in the air soon. Get in the game now, you 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 luck now would clinch the game for them. The Rube was beginning to
labor in the box; Ashwell was limping; Spears looked as if he would
drop any moment; McCall could scarcely walk. But if the ball came his
way he could still run. Nevertheless, I never saw any finer fielding
than these cripped players executed that inning.

"Ash--Mac--can you hold out?" I asked, when they limped in. I received
glances of scorn for my question. Spears, however, was not sanguine.

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

Spears lumbered down to first base on an infield 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 wi