id:

"What have you got it in for me about? Haven't I worked my head off to
win for your team?"

"I haven't made any kick," responded Clancy shortly. "When I have a
kick coming I'll make it good and strong."

"I'm not joking, Bill," the pitcher persisted. "My arm is good, and a
lot of my friends are wondering why I don't work when it's my turn."

"Tell them," said Clancy very quietly, "that I have only one third
baseman, and that I don't want him killed."

Williams's eyes were opened. He felt beneath the bitter calmness of
the manager's voice the fact that Clancy knew--at least part of the
truth. His jaw dropped and his face went white. Clancy, with a short
laugh, started to run away.

"Then I don't work to-day?" Alarm, pleading and a note of despair in
his tones as if he realized what the manager's decision meant to him.

"No, not to-day," replied Clancy, watching him sharply.

He turned away with exaggerated carelessness, and the rat-faced,
cold-eyed man in the stands, who had been watching them closely,
gritted out an oath and turned to Barney Baldwin, who was sitting
beside him:

"He isn't going to let Williams pitch," He said. "We're done for,
Baldwin."

The politician turned purple with rage.

"Well, by ----, Edwards," he snarled, "we'll see about this. I'll put
this over or know why."

The first game of the afternoon was a romp for the Bears. They scored
early, and by clean hitting and dashing play on the bases, piled up
tallies until the opponents were hopelessly defeated before the fifth
inning. The game was a stern chase from that to the finish, and the
Bears, scoring steadily, won, 9 to 2.

Instead of being elated by the victory Clancy seemed worried. On the
bench he was fretful and uneasy.

"Don't you fellows take any wide chances in the next game," he decreed
while the pitchers were warming up for the final battle against the
Jackrabbits. "We want this game. I'm sending Wilcox in to win it.
Who's that young bird the Rabbits are warming up? Hoskins, eh?
Busher? Well, watch him. These young fellows with nothing but a
strong arm are dangerous as the deuce at this time of the year."

Unlike their manager, the players were confident. Their easy victory
in the first game, the fact that Wilcox, their best right-handed
pitcher, was to start the game against an unknown and untried "busher"
fresh from some small team and nervous through desire to win his first
game, made it seem