“Ike’d ought to split with Smitty’s friend,” says Carey.
“No,” I says, “he’ll need all he won. It costs money to buy collars and to send telegrams from Cincinnati to your old man in Texas and keep him posted on the health o’ your uncle in Cedar Rapids, DC”
III
And you ought to heard him out there on that field! They wasn’t a day when he didn’t pull six or seven, and it didn’t make no difference whether he was goin’ good or bad. If he popped up in the pinch he should of made a base hit and the reason he didn’t was so-and-so. And if he cracked one for three bases he ought to had a home run, only the ball wasn’t lively, or the wind brought it back, or he tripped on a lump o’ dirt, roundin’ first base.
They was one afternoon in New York when he beat all records. Big Marquard was workin’ against us and he was good.
In the first innin’ Ike hit one clear over that right field stand, but it was a few feet foul. Then he got another foul and then the count come to two and two. Then Rube slipped one acrost on him and he was called out.
“What do you know about that!” he says afterward on the bench. “I lost count. I thought it was three and one, and I took a strike.”
“You took a strike all right,” says Carey. “Even the umps knowed it was a strike.”
“Yes,” says Ike, “but you can bet I wouldn’t of took it if I’d knew it was the third one. The score board had it wrong.”
“That score board ain’t for you to look at,” says Cap. “It’s for you to hit that old pill against.”
“Well,” says Ike, “I could of hit that one over the score board if I’d knew it was the third.”
“Was it a good ball?” I says.
“Well, no, it wasn’t,” says Ike. “It was inside.”
“How far inside?” says Carey.
“Oh, two or three inches or half a foot,” says Ike.
“I guess you wouldn’t of threatened the score board with it then,” says Cap.
“I’d of pulled it down the right foul line if I hadn’t thought he’d call it a ball,” says Ike.
Well, in New York’s part o’ the innin’ Doyle cracked one and Ike run back a mile and a half and caught it with one hand. We was all sayin’ what a whale of a play it was, but he had to apologize just the same as for gettin’ struck out.
“That stand’s so high,” he says, “that a man don’t never see a ball till it’s right on top o’ you.”
“Didn’t you see that one?” ast Cap.
“Not at first,” says Ike; “not till it raised up above the roof o’ the stand.”
“Then why did you start back as soon as the ball was hit?” says Cap.
“I knowed by the sound that he’d got a good hold of it,” says Ike.
“Yes,” says Cap, “but how’d you know what direction to run in?”
“Doyle usually hits ’em that way, the way I run,” says Ike.
“Why don’t you play blindfolded?” says Carey.
“Might as well, with that big high stand to bother a man,” says Ike. “If I could of saw the ball all the time I’d of got it in my hip pocket.”
Along in the fifth we was one run to the bad and Ike got on with one out. On the first ball throwed to Smitty, Ike went down. The ball was outside and Meyers throwed Ike out by ten feet.
You could see Ike’s lips movin’ all the way to the bench and when he got there he had his piece learned.
“Why didn’t he swing?” he says.
“Why didn’t you wait for his sign?” says Cap.
“He give me his sign,” says Ike.
“What is his sign with you?” says Cap.
“Pickin’ up some dirt with his right hand,” says Ike.
“Well, I didn’t see him do it,” Cap says.
“He done it all right,” says Ike.
Well, Smitty went out and they wasn’t no more argument till they come in for the next innin’. Then Cap opened it up.
“You fellas better get your signs straight,” he says.
“Do you mean me?” says Smitty.
“Yes,” Cap says. “What’s your sign with Ike?”
“Slidin’ my left hand up to the end o’ the bat and back,” says Smitty.
“Do you hear that, Ike?” ast Cap.
“What of it?” says Ike.
“You says his sign was pickin’ up dirt and he says it’s slidin’ his hand. Which is right?”
“I’m right,” says Smitty. “But if you’re arguin’ about him goin’ last innin’, I didn’t give him no sign.”
“You pulled your cap down with your right hand, didn’t you?” ast Ike.
“Well, s’pose I did,” says Smitty. “That don’t mean nothin’. I never told you to take that for a sign, did I?”
“I thought maybe you meant to tell me and forgot,” says Ike.
They couldn’t none of us answer that and they wouldn’t of been no more said if Ike had of shut up. But wile we was settin’ there Carey got on with two out and stole second clean.
“There!” says Ike. “That’s what I was tryin’ to do and I’d of got away with it if Smitty’d swang and bothered the Indian.”
“Oh!” says Smitty. “You was tryin’ to steal then, was you? I thought you claimed I give you the hit and run.”
“I didn’t claim no such a thing,” says Ike. “I thought maybe you might of gave me a sign, but I was goin’ anyway because I thought I had a good start.”
Cap prob’ly would of hit him with a bat, only just about that time Doyle booted one on Hayes and Carey come acrost with the run that tied.
Well, we go into the ninth finally, one and one, and Marquard walks McDonald with nobody out.
“Lay it
