Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1913-03-08

As the elevated train stopped at the STA
ton nearest the Chicago National League
Park, the passengers came swarming out
| of the gates and crowded the platform.
The stairways not being built with q view
to accommodating worlds series crowds,
the egress was naturally slow. Two by
two the people made their way down to
the street. and every moment the Grove
on the platform, ever lessening. settled
slowly toward the exits through which tn
others had gone Among them was
Frank Chance, manager Of the Cubs. and
as he patiently waited for the drift of the
crowd to carry him toward the stairway
he noticed two men directly in front of
him.
One dorid-faced man. whose head
seemed to grow out of his back. was talk
ing loudly The other, a. Snug looking
person, with carefully cut clothes. the pro-
prietor Of a great wholesale house, was
listening.
Say the horid-faced man was say
ing, what do you think Of that fellow
Chance? Here In the worlds series he
hands us lemon. He let's that team of
kids from Philadelphia put it all over the
Cubs
Yes replied the other sagely, I'm
afraid his day Is done
Sure. retorted the first speaker, that
guys has-been! He's been doubie-cross,
In us. We supported him all year-paid
our money to see the Cubs play and now
when the worlds series comes they blow
S joie.a Hs ism n'Anase' any A'' -
At the epithets Chance WINGED. but.
keeping. his temper. he said nothing. Yet
the words disturbed him-ay, more than
that. They hurt him-hurt deeply. He
knew that many others in Chicago We're
| thinking, even talking. as the horid-faced
man had done. He knew that bitter at
the three straight defeats sustained by
| his team, they had turned against him.
| He knew, too, that unless the Cubs won
this afternoon the worlds championship
would go to Philadelphia-go In dis
graceful defeat, four reverses. one on top
of the other.
And so Chance moved down the stairs.
sick at heart, weary with the hard fight
i he had made, only to meet condemnation.
But as he walked toward the grounds
there was the old swing to his carriage,
the old flash in his eyes Chances. you
see. is the spirit that knows. no defeat-
will admit of none In the dressing room
he found his players nervous and Sur1y.
They, too. had heard the voice OF the
city-a voice just beginning to lift IN con-
Idemnation. They had heard the epithets
on every side. One of them had been
hooted by a crowd Of street urchins only
ten minutes before. And 1t was to these
men--the veterans Of his hardest cam
paign-that Chance turned for support.
He knew they were with him, knew that
he had given them his spirft-that they
would fight for all there was In them UNI
til the end Then they would go down to
defeat with their chins high,
Boys he said as they gathered about
him. this afternoon is the turning point.
For three games the Athletics have beat
en- U.S. Now we will begin to beat them.
We must win today. tomorrow. the day
Iafter-four games in row. Then the
-EOSN nov
| Not a man spoke. But as Chance read
their faces he needed nothing more The
eyes Of all were flashing. To the field
they moved-sullen Cubs. ready to break
into fury. When the crowd saw them.
parts OF the stand. The applause OF the
more loyal. though. drowned 1t out. Still
Chance had heard and his Jaws clicked ,
| The game began-began with the CROWD
sitting back In cold Judgment From the
outset the Cubs fought bitterly-the way
men fight with their backs to wall.
But to no avail. The Athletics were too
strong, and when Chicago came to bat for
the last time Philadelphia held the lead
by one run. Then one OF the Cubs clawed
his way to first With two out he was on
second The game. the worlds champion.
ship, hung in the balance III the next
man went out. Philadelphia would win.
i II was a situation staged by Fate. That
next man was Frank Chance. AS he
walked slowly to the plate. the resent
ment long gathering DESCENDED upon him
From ali parts of the stand broke the
aHas been: Gutter. Yellow. they
yelled.
Only the MANS lips drawn in a thin
Isneer told he heard them He could
waste no thoughts on that tickle mob
Sterner work faced him. Philadelphia
must be beaten. Only II the man on sec
ond was scored would the way be paved.
| Chance dug his spikes in the dirt. His
teeth met and pressed The muscles OF
l the cheeks swelled. His bat was swing
Ing rigidly-stiff power eager to break
Into action Then the ball came toward
| him He swung. A three-bagger bounced
| in from second. Now the crowd was
cheering-but when Chance heard them.
l the sneer only heightened.
/ He knew, you see, how quick their