TIBERIUS SMITH
get a fair shake, I'm going to pitch a thirteen-inning game. If I've got any friends on the side-lines, I'd like to hear their voices cheering, as it heartens me. Here goes a simple drop.'
"Bless you, it entirely took the crowd off their feet. The batter literally wallowed in the grass. When he saw that ball humming along as true as a die, he just gritted his teeth and swung himself into the air and came down with a crash.
"‘Hooray!' I yelled, in my excitement. 'Two strikes! No balls! Go it, Tibby!'
"Hang me, if that rascal didn't turn and, with one hand on his breast and the other at his back, make me a stage bow and blow me a kiss. A chocolate-drop returned the ball, and with a bellow of rage the batter pranced to wipe out his disgrace. It was a rising in-shoot, and from where I stood I should have diagnosed it as a corkscrew. After Tib delivered it he turned aside and put one hand up to his smirking mouth, as if he were ashamed of having done it. The ball ducked the club and brushed the old gentleman's jugular. A howl of amazement went up from all hands, and grandma dropped her knife and began to bump her head on the ground. The chief, too, looked a bit frightened.
"‘Guess I've got a glass arm, eh?' cried Tib. 'That's pretty rotten, isn't it? Oh yes.'
"The batter frowned at his club, muttered some-
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