Would the inning
never end?
Spears kept telling himself: ``They'll score,
but we'll win. It's our game!''
I had a sickening fear that the strange confidence
that obsessed the Worcester players had
been blind, unreasoning vanity.
``Carl will steal,'' muttered Spears. ``He
can't be stopped.''
Spears had called the play. The Rube tried to
hold the little base-stealer close to second, but,
after one attempt, wisely turned to his hard task
of making the Bisons hit and hit quickly. Ellis
let the ball pass; Gregg made a perfect throw to
third; Bogart caught the ball and moved like a
flash, but Carl slid under his hands to the bag.
Manning ran down to second. The Rube pitched
again, and this was his tenth ball over the plate.
Even the Buffalo players evinced eloquent appreciation
of the Rube's defence at this last stand.
Then Ellis sent a clean hit to right, scoring both
Carl and Manning. I breathed easier, for it
seemed with those two runners in, the Rube had a
better chance. Treadwell also took those two
runners in, the Rube had a way those Bisons
waited. They had their reward, for the Rube's
speed left him. When he pitched again the ball
had control, but no shoot. Treadwell hit it with
all his strength. Like a huge cat Ashwell pounced
upon it, ran over second base, forcing Ellis, and
his speedy snap to first almost caught Treadwell.
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