CHAPTER XI

  RIGHT FROM THE SHOULDER

  The Smoky City was all agog over the games. It had won championshipsbefore, but that was in the days of Fred Clarke and Honus Wagner andother fence breakers. It had been a good many years since it had seen apennant floating over Forbes Field, and old-timers were wont to shaketheir heads sadly and say they never would see it again.

  But this year the "dope" pointed in the right direction. The managementof the team had strengthened the weak point in the infield by a wintertrade that had brought to them "Rabbit" Baskerville, the crackerjackshortstop of the Braves. The benefit of the change had been manifestedin the spring practice when the Rabbit had put new pep and gingerin the team. And in the regular games so far they had had littledifficulty in winning a large majority from their rivals. How theywould hold out against the Giants was the problem that yet remainedto be solved. But unless the Giants showed a decided reversal from theform in which they had been playing recently, it would not be so veryhard to take them also into camp.

  The Giants themselves felt none too much confidence, as they preparedfor this important series. One bit of luck came to them, however, inthe return at this juncture of Larry Barrett to the team. He had beendown with an attack of intermittent fever that had kept him out of partof the spring practice and had prevented him thus far from playing inany of the regular games. But on the team's arrival in Pittsburgh, theyfound Barrett waiting for them, looking a little lighter than usual,but declaring himself in excellent condition and fit to play the gameof his life.

  The previous year he had guarded the keystone bag, and by generalconsent was regarded as the best second baseman in the League. Hisbatting too was a powerful asset to the team, as season after season heranked among the .300 hitters. Apart from his superb playing at bat andin the field, he also helped to keep the boys in good spirits. His witand love of fun had gained him the nickname of "Laughing Larry," and noteam of which Larry was a member could stay long in the doleful dumps.

  His coming made necessary a change in the team. Allen, who had notmade a success in playing the "sun field," was benched, and Denton,whose batting could not be spared, was shifted to right field in hisplace, while Larry resumed his old position at second.

  On the morning of the day of the first game, McRae called his playerstogether for a few words of counsel. At least he called it counsel. Theplayers were apt to refer to it as roasting.

  "I've been thinking," he said, "that I've got the greatest collectionof false alarms of any manager in either of the big leagues."

  This was not an especially encouraging beginning, but each of the mentried to look as though the manager could not by any possibility bereferring to him. Some of them hoped that he would not descend fromgeneralities to particulars.

  The manager's keen eyes ranged around the circle as though looking forcontradiction. There was a silence as of the tomb.

  "You fellows haven't been playing baseball," he went on. "You've beenplaying hooky. Look at the way you've let the other teams walk overyou. The Chicagos took three out of four from you. The Cardinalsgrabbed two out of three, and it's only the mercy of heaven that rainkept them from copping another. Look at the way you've been batting.Every team in the League except the Phillies has a better average.You've got enough beef about you to knock the ball out of the lot, andyou've been doing fungo hitting, knocking up pop flies. What in thename of seven spittin' cats do you mean by it? Every time you collectyour salaries you ought to be arrested for getting money on falsepretenses."

  He paused for a moment, and some of the more hopeful players thoughtthat perhaps he was through. But he was only getting his breath. Hefaced them scornfully.

  "Giants!" he exclaimed with sarcasm. "Giants you call yourselves. Getwise to yourselves. If you're Giants, I'm a Chinaman. It's dwarfs youare, pygmies. Now I want you boobs to get one thing into your heads.Get it straight. You've got to win this series from Pittsburgh. Do youget me? You've got to! If you don't, I'll disband the whole team andstart getting another one from the old ladies' home."

  Much more he said to the same effect, with the result that when themen, with heightened color and nerves rasped by his caustic tonguelashing, left the clubhouse, they were in red-hot fighting mood.Pygmies were they? Well, on the ball field they'd prove to McRae thathe didn't know what he was talking about.

  An immense crowd was present that filled Forbes Field to capacity whenthe bell rang for the beginning of the game. Joe had pitched only twodays before, and McRae decided to send Markwith into the box.

  In the first inning, Dawley, the Pittsburgh pitcher, found it hard tolocate the plate, and Curry was passed to first. On the hit and runplay, Iredell popped to the pitcher, and Curry had all he could do toget back to first. Burkett lined a clean hit over the second baseman'shead, but by sharp fielding Curry was kept from going beyond the middlebag. On the next ball pitched, Curry tried to steal third but wasthrown out. Burkett in the meantime had got to second, but he was leftthere when Wheeler sent a long fly to center that Ralston capturedafter a hard run.

  The Pittsburghs were not long in proving that they had their battingclothes on. Ralston landed on the first ball that Markwith sent up fora home run. The crowd chortled with glee, and the Giants and the fewsupporters they had in the stands were correspondingly glum. The blowseemed to shake Markwith's nerve, and the next batter was passed. Bemissent a sizzling grounder to Iredell and it bounced off his glove, thebatter reaching first and Baskerville taking second on the play. Astleydribbled a slow one to Markwith, who turned to throw to third, butfinding that Baskerville was sure of making the bag, turned and threwhigh to Burkett at first. The tall first baseman leaped high in the airand knocked it down, but not in time to get his man. With the basesfull Brown slapped a two bagger to center that cleared the bases, threemen galloping over the plate in succession.

  It was evidently not Markwith's day, and McRae beckoned him to comein to the bench while the crowd jeered the visitors and cheered theirown favorites. Poor Markwith looked disconsolate enough, and after amoment's conference with McRae, which he was not anxious to prolong, hemeandered over the field to the showers.

  "Bring on the next victim!" taunted some of the spectators. "Allpitchers look alike to us to-day. Next dead one to the front."

  McRae held a brief consultation with Robbie, and then nodded to Jim.

  "Go to it, Jim," encouraged Joe. "I'm rooting for you, old man. Pullsome of the feathers out of those birds. It's a tough job buckingagainst a four run lead, but you're the boy to do it."

  "I'll do my best," answered Jim, as he put on his glove and went intothe box.

  It was the cue for the crowd to try to rattle him. The coachers beganchattering like a lot of magpies, and the man on second began to danceabout the bag and shout to Garrity, the next batsman, to bring him in.

  Jim sent one over the plate that cut it in half, but the batsman hadorders to wait him out, under the supposition that he would be wild.So he let the second one go by also.

  "Strike two!" called the umpire.

  Garrity braced. This was getting serious. This time Jim resorted to afadeaway that Garrity swung at with all his might. But the ball eludedhim and dropped into Mylert's mitt.

  "You're out!" snapped the umpire, waving him away from the plate.

 
Lester Chadwick's Novels
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