Evening public ledger. [volume] (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1914-1942, 1915-09-10

savage contest. The Grays, desperate be-
couse Bull Brewer had lost the opening
skrmish. lined up behind Petite Freeman,
their second-best twirler. They tied the
score in the eighth inning, would have
won the game in the ninth but for re-
markable throw to the plate by the emf
nent Souzay, and we're beaten by one run
i'm the eeventh-that run proceeding from
the bats Of Messrs. Todd and Hopper
The Grays made a despairing rally In
the last of the eleventh, and, though they
did not get a man as far as third base,
they accomplished something which sent
the Terrors to the clubhouse very sick
outfit.
Rusty Mcdaniel the Gray's shortstop.
slid to second feet foremost, and cut Cam
by's ankle so badly that the second base
man had to be assisted from the field. 1t
was unfortunate that such a thing should
have happened just at that time, and it Is
always unfortunate when one ball player
Injuries another. Probably Rusty McDan-
iel regretted it as much as Pete MacNabb.
The doctor patched up the cut and
applied the bandages, Candy cursing in
broken-hearted fashion.
mo, he won't be able to play tomor-
row." said the doctor. That's a very
deep cut, and 1t extends around to the
tendon over the heel. He may have to
go on crutches for few weeks"
How does she feel, boy?" asked Todd,
as he bent over the sufferer.
"Rottenr said Candy. Dave, there
amt anything to it! You have to play
now!
A dozen voices took up the refrain.
| The players gathered around Todd, argu-
| ing, entreating, pulling at his clothes.
| Pete MacNabb roared for silence.
"You leave Dave to mel" he cried. I'll
| talk II over with him."
It was II o'clock on Saturday night.
Pete MacNabb, hat in hand, was stand
ing at the foot of Dave Todd's bed
"There isn't anything else 1 can say"
said the manager. 1--WE talked until I'm
| hoarse I've told you the fix I'm in;
you knew II before told you. II Nip
| per hadn't been spiked we might have
been able to get along without you by
| showing Johnstone over to short, and
| putting Caldwell at third. With you and
| Candy both out of the game tomorrow
| they'll walk all over u.s. and there'll be
a hole in that infleld as big as a brick
house. I've gone over the whole thing
10 times, and you're still talking about
the rights and wrongs OF the Sunday
| question.
THAT amt the proposition, my boy.
| Here's the real question: Is It right for
| you to run out on us in a nasty pinch
like this? Is II right for you to go back
| on the boys? You know II you stay out
OF this game now we'll be licked. I
know II. The gamblers know II. The
odds have switched clear around. You
say it's entirely question of conscience,
! Davey. How do you think your con-
science is going to feel If you stay out
OF this game and we take lickinR?"
Pete" said the shortstop. who was
sitting on the side of the bed, this is a
thing that must settle with myself. |
haven't given you any answer, but I'll
tell you at 10 o'clock tomorrow morning.
Goodnight" MacNabb offered his hand
! 81 "Davey." said he. when you're think
Ing 1t over. don't forget that you're only
one man and that there's Is or 20 more
of us. Goodnight"
When the manager left the room three
or four newspaper men who had beer
waiting in the corridor pounced upon him
We'll, Pete, what's he going to dc
about II? Will he play?"
81 don't know" said MacNabb Hell
tell me In the morning"
Huh! That's a fine businesB!" said
one of the scribes. But we 90 TO press
tonightl"
Young man." said MacNabb Krimly
"a Methodist conscience lie an awful thinI
to have. You can't rush It any"
CONTINUED TOMORROW