Jimmy Kirkland and the Plot for a Pennant

by Hugh S. Fullerton

"I know it," said McCarthy. "I coaxed him along. I think we can make him pitch to-day by telling him that we don't think he can."

The plan was adopted. For two innings the shortstop and third baseman harassed the pitcher.

Under the running fire of taunts, criticisms and sarcasm Williams pitched harder and harder, furious at his teammates, and venting his anger upon opposing batsmen.

"Say, you guys," remarked Kennedy on the bench after the fourth inning. "Have some pity on me. You've got Adonis so mad he's smashing my mitt with his speed. Better ease off on him or you'll have him in the air."

The Bears had accumulated two runs and seemed winning easily in the fifth, when, before a runner was out, McCarthy, cutting across in front of Swanson to scoop an easy-bounding ball, played it too carelessly, fumbled and allowed the first batter to reach first base. The error was common enough, but allowing the first batter to reach a base on an easy chance was serious at that stage of the game. Williams turned upon McCarthy and gave him a violent rebuke. McCarthy was not in a position to respond. He saw that, in spite of his angry words, Williams seemed pleased by the error. An instant later a drive whizzed past him and then another screamed by him en route to left field. A run was across the plate, runners on first and third and no one out.

"Trying to toss off this one?" demanded Swanson angrily. "You big stiff, pitch ball."

The next batter sacrificed, and again Williams broke the ball low and inside the plate to a right-handed hitter. The ball came like a shot at McCarthy, who dived at it. It rolled away toward Swanson, who recovered just in time to throw out the runner at first, but another run had counted and the score was tied. Another hit screeched past McCarthy, another run counted and the Travelers were one run ahead before the attack could be stopped.

The Travelers held their advantage to the eighth, when, rallying desperately, the Bears drove home two runs by sheer force of hitting and the ninth found them hanging to a one-run lead. They failed to increase their advantage in the first half of the inning and took the field determined to hold their lead. McCarthy was puzzled. He thought Clancy knew what was happening on the field and had expected each inning that the manager would rebuke Williams when they returned to the bench. Instead Clancy had remained strangely silent.

Tuttle, the first batter for the Travelers in the ninth inning, hit a fierce bounder down the third-base line. McCarthy, knowing Tuttle to be a right field hitter, was swung a little wide from the base. He threw himself out toward the line, his hands extended to the full limit, and the ball stuck in one outstretched hand. Scrambling to his feet he threw hard and fast to first, retiring the speedy runner by a step. The next batter hit fiercely between third and short and Swanson, by a great play, retrieved the ball back on the edge of the grass, but could not throw the runner out. The next batter, a right-hander, hit a vicious single past McCarthy and there were runners on second and first.

McCarthy felt the next drive would be toward him. He believed Williams was striving to lose the game, and that he was pitching so as to compel the batters to hit in the direction of third base so that the baseman and not he would be held responsible for the defeat. He gritted his teeth and crouched, waiting, as Watson, the heaviest-hitting right-handed batter in the league, faced Williams. Crouching, he saw Kennedy signal for a fast ball high and outside the plate, and then saw a straight easy ball sail toward the batter, low and inside. Watson swung. McCarthy saw a flash of light and threw up his hands just in time to keep the ball from hitting him. The ball broke through his hands and rolled a few feet away. His hands were numb to the wrists from the terrific shock. He stood still one trice. Then he saw the runners were stopped, bewildered. They had lost sight of the ball, so rapidly had it traveled and had stopped, thinking he had caught it. He leaped after the ball, framing the play as he touched the spinning sphere. He could have run back to third base and forced out one, but instead, as his numbed fingers gripped the sphere, he saw the possibility of a double play and threw fast and straight to Swanson, on second base, forcing out the runner coming from first. Swanson, catching the idea of the play in an instant, hurled the ball back to McCarthy, who grabbed it and touched out the runner coming from second, completing a double play that brought the crowd to its feet in applause and saved the game.