fell down ignominiously. It was the first time
he had fanned that season and he looked dazed.
We had to haul him away.

I called off the practice, somewhat worried
about Rube's showing, and undecided whether or
not to try him in the game that day. So I went
to Radbourne, who had quietly watched Rube
while on the field. Raddy was an old pitcher and
had seen the rise of a hundred stars. I told him
about the game at Rickettsville and what I thought
of Rube, and frankly asked his opinion.

``Con, you've made the find of your life,'' said
Raddy, quietly and deliberately.

This from Radbourne was not only comforting;
it was relief, hope, assurance. I avoided Spears,
for it would hardly be possible for him to regard
the Rube favorably, and I kept under cover until
time to show up at the grounds.

Buffalo was on the ticket for that afternoon,
and the Bisons were leading the race and playing
in topnotch form. I went into the dressing room
while the players were changing suits, because
there was a little unpleasantness that I wanted to
spring on them before we got on the field.

``Boys,'' I said, curtly, ``Hurtle works today.