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Updated: June 14, 2025
It developed presently, that this was now his intention and that the Rube knew it and pitched him the one ball which is almost impossible to bunt a high incurve, over the inside corner. There was no mistaking the Rube's magnificent control. True as a plumb line he shot up the ball once, twice, and Berne fouled both two strikes.
Standing directly in front of it was a gigantic Ingin, flourishing his scalping-knife within an inch of Rube's head, trying to make the boy flinch. But the young fellow merely scowled at him in a rage, his muscles never quivering for an instant.
"Professional jealousy is what's at the bottom of this," declared Kate, "the choir is jealous of Uncle Rube's reputation as a singer, and Uncle Rube does not care for the choir's new-fangled methods of singing. Rivalry! Rivalry! That's what the matter." "That's right, Miss Kate," squeaked the constable, "they're jealous of my singing.
All Rube's efforts to keep out of the actual fighting were useless. Wholly against his will he was carried into it. Arrows and spears were flying about his head; bullets hummed past him; he saw tomahawks raised aloft to strike at him. Suddenly the horse immediately in front of him staggered and rolled over. Rube's own mount reared and swerved to clear the obstacle.
Sunday we rested, and Monday was the Fourth, with morning and afternoon games with Buffalo. Upon the morning of the Fourth, I looked for the Rube at the hotel, but could not find him. He did not show up at the grounds when the other boys did, and I began to worry. It was the Rube's turn to pitch and we were neck and neck with Buffalo for first place.
"Young Rube's gettin' quite a professional hand at cookin'," said Kiddie, measuring out pinches of tea. "You'll hear of him one o' these days takin' on the job of chef in some high-class New York hotel. He's got twenty-one diff'rent ways of cookin' eggs, an' as many of potatoes. You didn't happen ter bring along any eggs or potatoes, did you, Isa?
Rosebud laughing, her wonderful eyes dancing with an inexpressible delight, released herself and turned to Seth. Immediately her face fell as she looked on the shadow of a man standing before her. "Why, Seth," she cried, in a tone of great pity and alarm that deceived even Rube, "what's the matter that you look so ill?" She turned swiftly and flashed a meaning look into Rube's eyes. "What is it?
"I'll beat it," continued he, muttering, as he loaded his piece, "or 'ee may chop the little finger off ole Rube's right paw." Another peal of laughter followed, as all perceived that this was the finger that was wanting. "'Ee es," continued he, looking at the faces that were around him, "'ee may scalp me if I don't."
But his eyes and ears were constantly busy, and occasionally he pointed things out to Rube's notice the flight of a covey of sagehens, the track of a herd of buffalo, the ashes of an old camp fire. Once, after fording Red Pine Creek, Kiddie dropped a glove, apparently by accident, and dismounted to pick it up.
Milly, I don't like Henderson a whole lot. He's not in the Rube's class as a pitcher. What am I going to do? Lose the pennant and a big slice of purse money just for a pretty little flirt?" "Oh, Connie, it's not so bad as that. Whit will come around all right." "He won't unless we can pull some wires. I've got to help him win Nan Brown. What do you think of that for a manager's job?
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