the warning cry from Healy. And, reaching
up to make his crowning circus play, he smashed
face forward into the bleachers fence. Then,
limp as a rag, he dropped. The audience sent
forth a long groan of sympathy.

``That wasn't one of his stage falls,'' said
Delaney. ``I'll bet he's dead. . . . Poor Reddy!
And I want him to bust his face!''

Clammer was carried off the field into the dressing
room and a physician was summoned out of
the audience.

``Cap., what'd it--do to him?'' asked Delaney.

``Aw, spoiled his pretty mug, that's all,''
replied Healy, scornfully. ``Mebee he'll listen to
me now.''

Delaney's change was characteristic of the man.
``Well, if it didn't kill him I'm blamed glad he got
it. . . . Cap, we can trim 'em yet. Reddie Ray'll
play the whole outfield. Give Reddie a chance to
run! Tell the boy to cut loose. And all of you git
in the game. Win or lose, I won't forget it. I've
a hunch. Once in a while I can tell what's comin'
off. Some queer game this! And we're goin' to
win. Gilbat lost the game; Clammer throwed it
away again, and now Reddie Ray's due to win