I waited until the bleachers and field were
empty. When I finally went out there was a crowd
at the gate surrounding an ambulance. I caught
a glimpse of Old Well-Well. He lay white and
still, but his eyes were open, smiling intently.
Young Burt hung over him with a pale and agitated
face. Then a bell clanged and the ambulance
clattered away.
End of Project Gutenberg's Etext of The Redheaded Outfield by Zane Grey
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