over the plate.

By the time the bleachers had stopped stamping and bawling, Curtis
ended the inning with a difficult grounder to the infield.

Once more the Kansas City players took the field and Burns Carroll sang
out in his lusty voice: "Keep lively, boys! Play hard! Dig 'em up an'
get 'em!" Indeed the big catcher was the main-stay of the home team.
The bulk of the work fell upon his shoulders. Dalgren was wild and
kept his catcher continually blocking low pitches and wide curves and
poorly controlled high fast balls. But they were all alike to Carroll.
Despite his weight, he was as nimble on his feet as a goat, and if he
once got his hands on the ball he never missed it. It was his
encouragement that steadied Dalgren; his judgment of hitters that
carried the young pitcher through dangerous places; his lightning swift
grasp of points that directed the machine-like work of his team.

In this inning Carroll exhibited another of his demon chases after a
foul fly; he threw the base-stealing Crane out at second, and by a
remarkable leap and stop of McReady's throw, he blocked a runner who
would have tied the score.

The Cowboys blanked their opponents in the first half of the ninth, and
trotted in for their turn needing one run to tie, two runs to win.

There had scarcely been a breathing spell for the onlookers in this
rapid-fire game. Every inning had held them, one moment breathless,
the next wildly clamorous, and another waiting in numb fear. What did
these last few moments hold in store? The only answer to that was the
dogged plugging optimism of the Denver players. To listen to them, to
watch them, was to gather the impression that baseball fortune always
favored them in the end.

"Only three more, Dal. Steady boys, it's our game," rolled out
Carroll's deep bass. How virile he was! What a tower of strength to
the weakening pitcher!

But valiantly as Dalgren tried to respond, he failed. The grind--the
strain had been too severe. When he finally did locate the plate Bluett
hit safely. Langley bunted along the base line and beat the ball.

A blank, dead quiet settled down over the bleachers and stands.
Something fearful threatened. What might not come to pass, even at the
last moment of this nerve-racking game? There was a runner on first
and a runner on second. That was bad. Exceedingly bad was it that
these runners were on base with nobody out. Worst of all was the fact
that Kane was up. K