Evening public ledger. [volume] (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1914-1942, 1915-10-02
Copyright. street and smlth)

Copyright. Street and smith-)
Again the Duke attempted to steady
himself. Pinky Hamilton, laughing open
ly, waited for the first ball A great
rattling and clashing OF bats came from
the visitors bench-a promise OF trouble
In store. Johnny Merry was on his knees
in an attitude of prayer.
Take me outi" he quavered. "oh,
Monk, take me out!'
The Duke found tho groove with fast
one, and Hamilton, by barely meeting the
ball, sent II rolling slowly down TO the
left of the pitchers box. The Duke
rushed at it, juggled It into his glove and
cut again, recovered II, and then, with
no possible chance TO get his man. threw
blindly to first. Haynes jumped for the
ball, got the tip OF his mitt on II, and
knocked It down, and while he was chas-
ing 1t Slade scored, Mulligan reached
third, and Pinky pulled up on second.
"You better yank the Duke" said Greg
son to Monk. He'll spill the beans II
you don't"
Monk shook his head.
Lets see what he does with Jones"
said the manager.
Now, Jones was not exactly the sort
of a hitter upon which to experiment
with a shaky pitcher. Awkward and
loose jointed, not at all pretty to look
at, he had a habit of hitting about three
hundred, and leading the league in the
matter of extra-base hits.
The Duke knew him Of old, but un-
fortunately the Duke was past caring.
The laundering reproof Of the fans
passed over his head; he was deaf to
orendorff and Haynes; deaf even TO
Johnny Merry, whose language had
warmed up to the scalding point. Left
at the postl
The first ball sailed up on the outside
of the plate, with, as Charlie Scanlon aft
erward remarked, nothing on It but the
cover" Jones stepped forward, and met
II with a roundhouse wallop that set the
outfielders in motion; and the next time
the Duke noticed Jones he was sliding
safely into third base. having cleaned
house to the extent of two runs.
over the believing from the stands and
the yelping of the militant Dudes, the
Duke heard a shrill whistle which he
had heard before few times In his
career. He turned toward the bench,
Come out Of that!' shouted the man
ager
mond. Handsome Harry came Looping in
from the far corner, where he had been
tentatively warming up.
Swell legacy you've left me, boy!" he
shouted at Clifton; but the Duke paid nc
attention; neither did he answer when
Monk spat wordy vitriol at him. The
Duke was aware that he had thrown
| away an important game and been taken
out of the box, but what did that matter
What did anything matter?
| Listlessly he found his sweater, and
| threw ii over his shoulders, and as Nc
Carter started to take up the white mans
burden the Duke began his march Il
| the clubhouse. How many times, aftei
hard-forght game. he had made the
1 -. n
| lifted, and borne along by the ringing
cheers of the faithfull Now only few
scattering cries of Hard luck; DukeP
reached his ears, and some wag began e
whistle "The Rogues' March," Hare
luck! II they only knew how hard 4
was!
The clubhouse was deserted. The Duk,
sat down IN front of his locker, and tool
his chin In his fists. For the first time
the eye, and he did. Inside the room
q clock licked noisily. The uproar out
side began TO die away. After a Ions
interval II rose again, swelling to a not,
of triumph-a tremendous, SUSTAINED
crescendo of cheering which could NEAR
but one thing. The Duke did not hear
It. Buck, the negro rubber, opened tn,
door
Mist Clifton" he said, "the boys go
the SEQ tied"
Whats thatP" said the Duke absently
Mist Hawley he hit a home run will
two on" explained Buck.
OH said the Duke. That's good"
Buck closed the door softly and wen
| away.
MY. my! I never see him take any
thing so hard befo'r' he remarked I,
Colonel Bourbon, his assistant. He,
In trance, jus grievin bout that game.
At last the Duke rose. opened his locker
and, fumbling about inside. brought fortf