There's
no telling what might happen.''
``I'm supremely indifferent to what happens,''
she replied, with a rebellious toss of her black
head. ``I hope Whit gets beaten.''
She went to the game with Henderson and sat
in the grand stand, and the boys spied them out
and told the Rube. He did not believe it at first,
but finally saw them, looked deeply hurt and
offended, and then grew angry. But the gong,
sounding at that moment, drew his attention to
his business of the day, to pitch.
His work that day reminded me of the first
game he ever pitched for me, upon which occasion
Captain Spears got the best out of him by
making him angry. For several innings Providence
was helpless before his delivery. Then
something happened that showed me a crisis was
near. A wag of a fan yelled from the bleachers.
``Honeymoon Rube!''
This cry was taken up by the delighted fans
and it rolled around the field. But the Rube
pitched on, harder than ever. Then the knowing
bleacherite who had started the cry changed it
somewhat.
``Nanny's Rube!'' he yelled.
This, too, went the rounds, and still the Rube,
though red in the face, preserved his temper and
his pitching control. All would have been well
if Bud Wiler, comedian of the Providence team,
had not hit upon a way to rattle Rube.
``Nanny's Goat!'' he shouted from the coaching
lines.
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