After that we never called him any name except
Rube.



THE RUBE'S PENNANT


``Fellows, it's this way. You've got to win
today's game. It's the last of the season and
means the pennant for Worcester. One more
hard scrap and we're done! Of all the up-hill
fights any bunch ever made to land the flag, our
has been the best. You're the best team I ever
managed, the gamest gang of ball players that
ever stepped in spikes. We've played in the
hardest kind of luck all season, except that short
trip we called the Rube's Honeymoon. We got a
bad start, and sore arms and busted fingers, all
kinds of injuries, every accident calculated to hurt
a team's chances, came our way. But in spite of
it all we got the lead and we've held it, and today
we're still a few points ahead of Buffalo.''

I paused to catch my breath, and looked round
on the grim, tired faces of my players. They
made a stern group. The close of the season
found them almost played out. What a hard
chance it was, after their extraordinary efforts,
to bring the issue of the pennant down to this last