“Money doesn’t seem to cut any ice with him.”
“No; and I reckon he’ll pull this game out for St. Paul. I’ll lose my dough to-day; but I’ll get even with that duffer if it costs me twice as much!”
St. Paul tried hard to get another run in the first of the ninth, but the effort was useless. Minneapolis was fighting for its very life, and no runner reached third.
Then the visitors again took the field. Now the manager sent the first batter up with instructions to get his base on balls, anyhow, informing him that he would be fined if he struck at a pitched ball.
The first three pitched were called balls by the umpire, and it began to look as if the judgment of the manager was good.
Then the jay put one straight over for a strike. Another followed. The batter gripped his “slugger” and seemed ready to hit.
“Don’t you do it!” cautioned the manager, in a low tone. “Let it go.”
The batter obeyed, and a swift one went straight over.
The trick had not worked, for the first man was out.