Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1911-04-16
BAT

heart like big Bird and sweat on his hands.
The chairs jerked this way and that, and the
electric lights first sank and then rose again.
"Guess I'm goin' to be sick!" he gasped.
"Wish Swazey was here-or somebody"
Then with half blinded eyes, his brain
awhirl, he CROPPED for the transmitter.
Hello, Central! Say, who won the game?
The Giants"
The telephone crashed to the floor as Bat
fell forward in faint. The slender golden
cord had almost broken. So the scrubwoman
found him five minutes later his arms out
stretched, his white, freckly face lying side
wise among the letters on the office table.
COMPOUND it," snapped Rynders at ten
o'clock Monday morning after Miss
Swazey had vainly endeavored for space
to manipulate the telephone. "Where do
you suppose Bat can be? This Office will go
to the dogs in about half an hour more"
"Where does he live?" asked Hallowell.
"Why, don't know" answered Swazey.
II never asked him. / don't think anybody
ever did"
@Nice fix we're in, eh?" growled Fink
@This telephone will simply drive me crazy!
No one seems to know even how to stop it
from buzzing. Can we get another boy in
temporarily?'
"Huh" snorted Rynders. dot of good
that would do! Do you remember the fun
we had before Bat came?"
Just then the Swazey managed accident
ally to connect up the plugs in proper man.
ner.
@Mr. Hallowell, it's for YOU"
He took the receiver from her awkward
fingers. "Yes," he answered, "this is MIR.
Hallowell.' His face paled under its coat of
tan. ayes, we have such an Office boy
Pro -, Co
Wanted you to tell us not to worry! My
God!'
He threw down the instrument and his lip
quivered. "Boys," he groaned, "the imp's
at the Presbyterian with brain fever! They
didn't even know who he was till last night.
Good Lord! And it's all Our fault! The
scrubbers found him here in a dead faint
late Saturday afternoon. I think he was
going to the game, wasn't he? Something
must have happened. Anyhow, I'm off to
the hospital. Are any of you fellows with
me?"
II for one," said Rynders.
"Me too," echoed Fink with drop of his
heart as he thought of his Albany message.
A N hour later the three lawyers were
\ ushered into ward where small white
figure lay mumbling on an iron cot. The
nurse laid her hand gently on the flushed
forehead where the freckles stood out like
buttons.
"These gentlemen have come to see you.
Don't you know them?" she asked sooth-
ingly.
But Bat did not hear-he was listening
to the roar of the grandstand and the shout
ing of the bleachers.
"Soak it, JOSH" he muttered. 3The Pitts
burgher's no good! Hurrah! Run-run!
Look! He's fumbled it! Go on! Go on!
You can get there by twelve o'clock! They
don't close until twelve! Go on to second!
Slide! Safe! Safe, tell you! Where's Mr..
Hallowell? He's just gone out for minute
l can't stay here, sir! Honest, can't! I've
got an important engagement at the Polo
Grounds! Please don't keep mel" He
struggled in the entangling bed clothes.
"Let me go! Let me go! You don't un-
derstand. Mr.. Hallowell promised! Oh
there's Devlin! Good old Devlin! Isn't it
Devlin? l can't see! Where am II Why,
it's old Swabbie the scrubwoman! Hello!
Swabbie, old girl! can't see the field! Say,
old man, what's the matter? Have they
called the game on account of darkness? 1t
is SO dark! l can't see the home plate-but
| can hear 'em yell"
"Listen, Bat!' whispered Hallowell with
no too ri; c1oa1>c at cta