y quality that
baseball players call speed. And he struck out the last three batters.

In the tumult that burst over my ears I sat staring at the dots on my
score card. Fourteen strike outs! one scratch hit! No base on balls
since the first inning! That told the story which deadened senses
doubted. There was a roar in my ears. Some one was pounding me. As I
struggled to get into the dressing room the crowd mobbed me. But I did
not hear what they yelled. I had a kind of misty veil before my eyes,
in which I saw that lanky Rube magnified into a glorious figure. I saw
the pennant waving, and the gleam of a white cottage through the trees,
and a trim figure waiting at the gate. Then I rolled into the dressing
room.

Somehow it seemed strange to me. Most of the players were stretched
out in peculiar convulsions. Old Spears sat with drooping head. Then a
wild flaming-eyed giant swooped upon me. With a voice of thunder he
announced:

"I'm a-goin' to lick you, too!"

After that we never called him any name except Rube.

THE RUBE'S PENNANT

"Fellows, it's this way. You've got to win today's game. It's the
last of the season and means the pennant for Worcester. One more hard
scrap and we're done! Of all the up-hill fights any bunch ever made to
land the flag, our has been the best. You're the best team I ever
managed, the gamest gang of ball players that ever stepped in spikes.
We've played in the hardest kind of luck all season, except that short
trip we called the Rube's Honeymoon. We got a bad start, and sore arms
and busted fingers, all kinds of injuries, every accident calculated to
hurt a team's chances, came our way. But in spite of it all we got the
lead and we've held it, and today we're still a few points ahead of
Buffalo."

I paused to catch my breath, and looked round on the grim, tired faces
of my players. They made a stern group. The close of the season found
them almost played out. What a hard chance it was, after their
extraordinary efforts, to bring the issue of the pennant down to this
last game!

"If we lose today, Buffalo, with three games more to play at home, will
pull the bunting," I went on. "But they're not going to win! I'm
putting it up to you that way. I know Spears is all in; Raddy's arm is
gone; Ash is playing on one leg; you're all crippled. But you've got
one more game in you, I know. These last few weeks the Rube has been
pitching out of turn and he's abo