Substitute No. 2
S. S. Zane wanted to help win that game. In the last half of the third inning, when Jump dumped a Texas-leaguer into the outfield and perched proudly on first, S. S. ran out to the coaching line.
"Take a lead!" he called shrilly. "Down with his arm, ol' boy! Watch him! Watch him!—Slide!—Nice work! He'll throw it away yet. He's no pitcher! See, he's scared green! Make him pitch, Mr. Umpire! Cowardy-calf! I tell you, Jump, he's got a yellow streak! He—"
"S. S.!" It was Bunny's crisp voice.
The coacher turned. At the crooking of his captain's finger, he walked back to the bench. "What's the matter?"
"You are supposed to be coaching the runner," Bunny told him quietly. "That doesn't mean jeering at the pitcher. We don't play that kind of game."
S. S. hung his head. "I—I'm sorry, Bunny. I wasn't trying to rattle him. I just forgot what I was saying, I guess."
There the incident ended. Bunny went out to the coaching box himself, and devoted his attention wholly to Jump. Back on the bench, S. S. swallowed hard.
"I didn't mean anything," he told himself gloomily. "But Bunny's right, of course. Coaching that way isn't good sportsmanship." He eyed the Belden pitcher. "Wonder how I can make it up to Bonner."