Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1906-02-04
THIS PITCHER GOT
HIS SIGNALS MIXED

that the thing to do was to issue free
tickets to both OF those 300 Diners. TOT
the batsman to follow those two was
out all the afternoon. So both Of the big
clouters just stood at the plate with their
bats at rest and waited for four wide
first sack. When the second of them had
got his transportation the sacks were of
course filled. 1t was a risky move, al
though it had seemed justified Either of
the chaps who'd been passed was capable
of breaking up the game by putting the
ball out of the park, and 1t was straight
ball sense to take no chances with them.
especially as 1t was the ninth inning and,
with their man on third, any old kind OF
hit would break up the game in their favor,
2 to 1. sl
But, all the same. 1t sure was up to our
tosser to put that next man up, the mark,
away. for the third out.
The pitcher was just Juggling at his sur
cingle and squeezing his cap harder down
on one ear and preparing to put three hot
ones right over for the mark to bite at,
when. looking up suddenly, he caught sight
of that key-puncher standing up in his
press box seat and waving his arms.
THE key-puncher was holding up three
fingers. The pitcher took that to mean
that Brush Up had done no better than
finish third. To make sure, the pitcher
held up three fingers for the telegrapher
to look at The telegrapher nodded his
head, and then our tosser's shoulders sort
O. fell forward He was done. The good
thing had fallen down on him. Here he'd
been sort O. dreaming all the afternoon
that maybe that Brush Up piece of Cam
cmbert might fetch him home $1,000 aIld
help him to square up things, and the best
Brush Up had handed him was the in-the-
money run, and he'd only played the good
thing straight. Without knowing just what
allied the tosser, some of us on the bench
noticed the way he sort of sagged down
after looking up into the press box.
ptsNht ,r-i+t pAy,,
mush couldn't hit balloon with a base
fiddle.' the captain sung out to the pitcher.
and the pitcher, trying to get his mind
back on the game, attempted to steady
himself to finish out the game right.
But he had nothing left. His heart had
gone out of him. and his fin went along
with it,. The first one he chucked was
ball, and pretty nearly wild pitch at that.
Steady, there, boz the team skipper
called out to him, and he tried again 20
steady himself. But the next one, and the
one after that, making three, We're balls,
and then the captain began to pick up hand
fuls of grass and throw 'em down again.
Two outs, three men on bases, game tied,
and then the pitcher who'd been working
like a machine chucks over three balls and
nary strike on the soft mark We were
all of US worked up about it, and all of US
on the bench slipped the root-word to the
pitcher through tunnels that we made of
our hands
He drew himself together with an OBJ
vious effort, took a good tug at his trousers
belt, rolled the ball around in his hand for
a full minute, and then sent the next one
along.
Ball four sung out the umpire, and
then the man who'd been sitting on third
trudged home on the force, and the game
was over. Our captain threw his cap on
the sward and jumped on it, and we all felt
pretty bad and sorry for the pitcher at
that. for the tosser walked off the lot shak-
ink like man with a heavy chill.
- we'd "a
ped for the shower bath before that head
key-puncher of the grounds came romping
in.
ooh, yah-yeh, I'm bad, amt To- he CUR
gled as he stuck his chin out at each of us
in turn. My tips are all the punkerinos,
amt they? / get the bull-moo as the best
for mine when l slip you fat-heads some
thing. don't 1? I'm the perfectly rotten
one when it comes to being hep to these
tasty ones, amt I?-you bunch o. Pennsyl-
Vania Dutch!
What ails it?' we asked, looking at
each other. What's the name of that
gnaw of his?
oh, nothin-nothin' al ALL sang out
the teiegrapher, airly except that that
thing that 1 tried my blastedest to poke at
you wise mugs this morning-that Brush
Up thing1cops IN a connion swing, that's
ALL and the price against 1t at the track
was only 3'to l at post time, and there was
all the 40 to 1 that you could ha' chewed
in the pool room for half an hour after 1
we'll that's ALL -
Then the pitcher. without any clothes
on, was clutching the telegrapher by the
sleeve.
thought you signaled me from the
press box that Brush Up ran third, he
gasped.
No, nope, you bone-conk-I meant that
1t win and that the price at the track was
only to t. bawlsd the operator.
Ihe pitcher scratched his chin
Why, HI. could ha' won that game
OF bail If l hadn't got those signals mixed"
he said, musingly.
SO you're the wogglebug that made us
drop that game of ball. hey? said the team
skipper, grabbing hold of the telegrapber
and he dragged him over and held him nm
DER one OF the cold showers with all of hts
clothes on, for a couple of minutes.
But the key-puncher didn't care. He'd
stufed IN go on Brush Up himself at 40
to /. a. ~
he gave US swell go to thing the next
ilme we visited his town. We ali went to
II with advance salary money that we bum
med on the business manager, and that
good thlng finished on the following Tues
day week, full of running" CT g