"Take it! You hear me, Boleslaw?"
There was a time when Boley would have swung just
-._to prove who was boss; but the time was not then. He
stood there while the big gray pitcher looked him over
with those sparkling eyes. He stood there through the
windup. And then the arm came down, and he didn't
stand there. That ball wasn't invisible, not coming right
at him; it looked as big and as fast as the Wabash Can-
nonbaU and Boley couldn't help it, for the first time in
his life he jumped a yard away, screeching.
"Hit batter! Hit batter!" cried the intercom. "Take your
base, Boleslaw."
Boley biinked. Six of the umpires were beckoning him
on, so the intercom was right. But still and all Boley
had his pride. He said to the little button on his collar,
"I am sorry, but I wasn't hit. He missed me a mile, easy.
I got scared is all."
"Take your base, you silly fool!" roared the intercom.
"He scared you, didn't he? That's just as bad as hitting
you, according to the rules. Why, there is no telling what
incalculable damage has been done to your nervous sys-
tem by this fright. So kindly get the bejeepers over to first
base, Boleslaw, as provided in the rules of the game!"
He got, but he didn't stay there long, because there was
a pinch runner waiting for him. He barely noticed that it
was another of the gray-skinned giants before he headed
for the locker room and the showers. He didn't even re-
member getting out of his uniform; he only remembered
that he, Boley, had just been through the worst experience
of his life.
He was sitting on a bench, with his head on his hands,
when the owner's uncle came in, looking queerly out of
place in his neat pin-striped suit. The owner's Uncle had
to speak to him twice before his eyes focused.
"They didn't let me pitch," Boley said wonderingly.
"They didn't, want Boley to pitch."
The owner's uncle patted his shoulder. "You were a
guest star, Boley. One of the all-time greats of the game.
Next game they're going to have Christy Mathewson.
Doesn't that make you feel proud?"
"They didn't let me pitch," said Boley.
The owner's uncle sat down beside him. "Don't you
see? You'd be out of place in this kind of a game. You
got on base for them, didn't you? I heard the announcer
say it myself; he said you filled the bases in the all-
important fourth inning. Two hundred million people were
watching this game on television! And they saw you gpt
on base!"
"They didn't let me hit either," Boley said.
There was a commotion at the door and the team came
