uch 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 Rube strode to bat. The infield closed in for a bunt, but the Rube
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. Rube stepped out, suddenly whirled, then tried to dodge, but
the ball hit him fair in the back. Rube sagged in his tracks, then
straightened up, and walked slowly to first base. Score 5 to 5, bases
full, no outs, McCall at bat. I sat dumb on the bench, thrilling and
shivering. McCall! Ashwell! Stringer to bat!

"Play it safe! Hold the bags!" yelled the coacher.

McCall fairly spouted defiance as he faced Vane.

"Pitch! It's all off! 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 bunter; to Stringer, the champion 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'll get
him."

Ashwell bent over the plate and glowered at Vane.

"Pitch! It's all off! An' you know it!" he hissed, using Mac's words.

Ashwell, too, was left-handed; he, too, was extremely hard to pitch to;
and if he had a weakness 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 learn something of
Vane. He gave Ash a slow, wide-sweeping sidewheeler, that curved round
over the plate. Ash always took a strike, so