The evening world. Newspaper, August 12, 1922, Page 13

Eco oye T HE STORY OF A HARD-BOILED BASEBALL UMPIRE. REBELLIOUS PLAYERS, AND a WHO'S WHO IN THE STORY. “BULL” SWEENEY, king of umpires, never popular with the home team. PEEWEE PATTERSON, third baseman and wily planner. “JUST A GIRL,” as introduced. She becomes a very defi- nite figure in the drama and acquires a name TOOLIE-WOOLIE KERRIGAN, youthful but providing a very important part in a chain of circumstances. TRUCK DARROW, who gives a somewhat different turn to things, Bul! was the monarch of all he sur- veyed, Tough as they make 'em—Chief Un- afraid! King of the Umps, and crowned such, Twice by the Irish and once by the Dutch. NE false —Ballads of Brick McGovern, move!" implored Peewee. “One fulse move— “oO that’s all I ask! One fal Move and I crown you!" Feet Kicking up the dust, fists @losed, and working overtime. Umpire Bull Feeney and Third Base- man Patterson were breast- ing each other pigeon-tasbion, and backing around in a wary circle. They each let go a right at the same t, and Peewee, who had once seen service in the ring, beat his opponent to the punch, followin it up with a left that reached the same target. Bull staggered back, jaws Peewee momen recovered him- self and returned to the attack head down, In the interests of peace and dignity, M er Brick MeGovern and some of the more responsible players interfered Usuaily pugilistic encounters on the ball-field have little significance and are forgotten in a day or two. But this fracas was different From the viewpoint of the ball play er there is no such thing as a good umpire. They are all bad, and some are u little worse than othe Club- houge opinion w: serting that Bull most terrible crime ever perpetrated In or- ganized baseball. Not that Bull didn’t know his business; that was the awful part of it! Bull had been in the ma- jors, and had even worked three times in a world’s seri s. He was game, cool-headed, quick on his feet, and he had a voice like a fog horn, But, of all the self-satisfied, trucu- ent, sarcastic, limelight-loving . and murder-inspiring umpires that ever bellowed through a muzzle, Bull Fee- mey was the thrice crowned king! Proudly he admitted the charge, and dared the world to make him other- wise. Therein lay the perpetual casus belli. The crowd rode him, of course, but this was a mistake; it only encour- aged the man. Bull got as much joy out of irritating the audience behind the wire netting as a small boy does in poking sticks through the bars of the circus cages. Oh, Bull was really an awful thing, and he pursued the even tenor of his way, until Peewee Patterson in sheer @efense convoked a board of stratezy in the clubhouse one afternoon. “Now, get me right,” said P: fon. ‘m naturally peaceful. I ain't lookin’ for trouble, but when any big. bimbo sticks his nose between my teeth, he's going to lose it; that's eu” ‘This declaration of principles was approved by the strategists. “But we got to use the old head on this guy," warned Rube Ferguson, outfielder. ‘We got to work on him Fifty dollars a punch is too much dough. My idea is to get something on him"— h, I'll get my spikes on him Promised Lefty Carroll; “that's what I'll get on him." Peewee protested, ‘Let's get down Qo business: Now, here's something they tried on a guy down South once, and I'll tell the world it was rich.” Patterson's voice trailed off into the dramatic tenseness of a born @onspirator. The others launched eagerly. The plot unfolded, and Presently all could appreciate that the midget third-sacker had indeed Bmearthed a slender sword calculated te venetrate even the thick hide of Buil Feeney, and leave him writhing Mauserably at their feet, WEEK Umps unanimous in later seated the King of himself one evening in the lobby of his hotel to indite two letters The first was in the nature of a re- port to the President of the league and presented no difficulty, It read: “Dear Mr. Powell: “1 put Manager McGovern out ef the game yesterday for aby “ve fanguage. He is a dog. “Yours truly, “James P. The second letter represw ed the first step into an unfamiiies world. He frowned thoughtfully at the hotel letterheads, chewed the @@ of the Fee) ,° Penhoider, said it down, louked about hum, and surreptitiously produced from an inside pocket a small pink envelope that had come in the morn ing mail. For the twentieth time he read the contents, and for the twen- tieth time a Wave of turkey red began at his gills and spread to the back of his neck. His heavy features strug- sled unsuccessfully against a sheepish grin. And small wonder! The age of miracles was here again! Bull “eeney had received a mash note! Cupid was burning incense at the shrine of an ump! Let unbelievers . Mr. Feeney: © often wanted to write but this is the first time to get up. the to you, I have been able courage, and I hope you will not take bold “I go to all the games, and I think you are the very best um- pire-in the league. It must be wonderful to be so big and strong and fearless, and I wonld just love to know you, but I suppose you would not pay any attention to a mere girl—though my friends say, I am not bad looking “Anyway I can't resist confess- ing my admiration for a man who offense, or think I am too can face the crowd like you can, and I just hope you are not marrie “There, now, I've sald it, and I do hope you won't be angry, but will instead find time perhaps to write to P. O. Box 841, and make me wildly happy. “Your tru admirer, ust a Girl.'* he only woman Bull Feeney had ever loved was a little ol@ lady back in St. Louis, and Bull wrote to his mothe ularly every month. But recently he had been vaguely con- scious of a growing interest in a face that looked at him from the sea of spectators in the St. Clair stands. ‘The face was that of a fratl girl who always ovcupied the same seat. She was usual!y dressed in blue with a sort of hallelujah bonnet with pink roses. The hat framed brown hair and accentuat»d both the delicacy of her features and the pallor of her skin. More and more he had come to look for her, drawn by a haunting memory of having ‘seen her else- where Once or twice he had wondered whether it would be safe to wait out- side the gate, and kind of tip his hat a little as she passed out. But um- pires find it a bit risky to encounter the crowd after a ball-game—at least umpires like Bull Feeney. He was perplexed until—lo and behold, here had come the letter! Oh, wonder of. wonders! He dipped his pen in undertook the earnestness. “My dear young Lady: your valued letter received and contents noted."* He studied over that for a moment, tore it up, and tried again, “Dear Sweetie:"” That was awful. He scratched It out hurriedly, his face the color of a beet. Some one sat down at the desk op- posite him. He frowned, gathered up paper, pen and ink and retired to the seclusion of his room. By midnight the floor was littered with rumpled paper, but he had managed to break through the formidable barrier of an opening paragraph. Once started, he wrote at length, telling her all about his mother in St. Louis, and the tim- ber-claim in the California Slerras, where the railroad would one day build a branch line, and where the stars were the swellest you ever saw. ‘There was a trick squirrel that lived ina big pine right at the door of the cabin he was building—funny little cuss—which would get awful mad tf you didn’t notice it. Of course an umpire wasn't no saint, or nothing lke that, but he didn’t’ go in for booze, and he knew how to be a square shooter with a nice girl, as she would find out, and would she please tell him— ULL paused and wiped his ink- stained fingers on his trou- sers. His face took on a blank expression. Maybe the girl he was thinking about and the one who had written the letter were not the same person, He considered this possibility with dismay, laid aside everything he had penned and wrote this: “Dear Mise Admirer: Your letter is O. K. with me. Whereabouts do you sit “Yours truly, “James P. (Bull) Feeney.” Two days later, Peewee Patterson, wild with joy, showed up at morning practice and waved a letter in the faces of the board of strategy. “Hooked him!" he crowed, big fish fell for it! ‘Dear Miss mirer—where do you sit?’ Oh, ho ‘They snatched at the letter, feasted their eyes on it, passed it around, and ink and reply with painful “The banved each other on the back, whooping triumphantly: “Ain't that a pip;" “Well, the big bull fat-head.” “What d’ye know? I * smoke up a lot of lette _THE EVENING WORLD, SATURDAY, AUGUST 12, 1922, THE EVENING WORLD’S COMPLETE NOVELETTE Bull Datite BY GERALD BEAUMONT ILWUSTRAT CD BY Will. BS. dOMNSTONE guess that ain't spearin’ him, huh?'’ Rube Ferguson, first to calm down, looked up from the letter, a little puz- nied. “Well, she sit? ‘The others looked at Peeweo. Pat- terson met the question promptly: “She sits anywhere we want her to; I got it all doped out. First we dope up another letter; make it strong this time, see? Then we dress Lefty up as a Jane, and plant him- Lefty interrupted hastily: how d’get that way?" ‘Shut up,’ admonished Peewee “Somebody's got to do it and you're the best lookin’. If you work Satur- day, you're off the next afternoon, aint you? My sister’s been on the stage, and she'll rig you up, and go with you,"’ “If I get pinched, warned Lefty, “I'll knock you for a mile of tomb- stones! I'll bust you all right on the jaw! Tn—"* He was howled down. “We do this thing right,’’ contin. ued Pewee complacently. ‘Lefty is going to be Miss Admirer, and from a distance she will be a pip. She telly him in the next letter where to look and Sunday afternoon she keeps wav- ing a handkerchief at him. Then she tells him to call on her."* “We hit the road Sunday, night,” he demanded, ‘where does “say, objected Ferguson. ‘‘Bull goes north too, No tellin’ where he'll be work- ing when we come back." “That's all the better," Pewee Pointed out. ‘It gives us time to Bull will write his fool head off as soon as he gets a look at this Jane. When we're all together again we slip him an address, and when he calls we'll have the whole gang planted in the house and at the right moment we come out and give him the grand raaz. Will that baby quit riding us? Task you a simple question.” The ayes had it without a dissent- ing voice. “The reporters will eat them let- ters up,"' mused lerguson. ‘The yarn will go all over the country. Can you tmagine what the bleachers will do with that ‘Miss Admirer’ stuff? Peewee, I got to hand it out; you're there, kid; you're there!"* O It came to pass that Bull Fee- ney received a second letter, in- tended to fasten securely In his crimson gills a poisoned barb from Cupid's quiver, It ran: “Deari “I was just tickled to death to get your letter and to know that you are not offended. “I shall be sitting in the grandstand next Sunday afternoon, just to the right of the plate, where I can see you best, and I will have on a blue dress. “I do hope that you will like me, and will write and tell me so, because Iam just crazy about you. I suppose you'll think I'm awful bold to say that, but it's the truth, and I don't care who knows it. “If you will just tip your cap when you see me I will know that every- thing is all right, and I will be the proudest and happiest girl in the world, and when you come back I will ask you to call “Goodby, dearie, untit I hear from you again “Your devoted Admirer."’ Alas, poor Bull! That letter sawed off all four legs of the royal throne and brought him down, overnight, to the level of mere mortals. In the grandstand, just to the right of the home-plate, she had said, and that was where she always sat—the pale, wistful girl with the pink roses on the hallelujah bonnet. Who was she? Where had he seen her before? No matter! The miracle was that she loved him, and she was young and beautiful and unbelievably frail. It was a humanized Bull Feeney vho brushed off the plate and called for the batting order the following Sunday afternoon, The board of strategy could for joy. “Look at his hair!'’ whispered Pe wee. ‘He's got it all slicked down, anda fresh shave. New uniform, too, ain't it?" hardly contain ‘aw,"’ said Catcher Darrow, “‘it's just the old one cleaned up and Pressed. Has Lefty showed up yet?’ “He come in a little while ago, and I'll say he's a knockout body look up there, or you'll queer it Wait a minute; Bull's going to an nounce the batteries; watch him!" Don't any The King of the Umps faced the grandstand. For the first time in th memory of those who watched hit eagerly there was nothin; in his manner. His voice tle as he could make it, respectful, shoulders v back heroically, and his face directo at some one in the audience sitting 10 the right of the home-plate. ‘Lefty's handkerchief must be £0 ing,"’ warbled Peewee. ‘Bull's tips his cap! I ask you a simple que Ain't this the richest you ever se How were they to know that Bi Feeney had eyes for only one per in the whole audience, and that s was at least fifty feet from where t forgeously arrayed Lefty Carroll was waving one of Miss Dorothy Patter son's very best handkerchiefs? How were they to know that the King of the Umps had bribed a bat-boy to belligerent WAS 4s his der trail a certain young lady to her home doesn't! And I don’t want to live~ and report back that evening? don’t!" FAVE the bull baiters to their H, Wt Bult only had ecnee abysmal ignorance and con- Gnotigh to. ale: Poolte«woolls sider only Bull Feeney, one for the exact address! — In- hour before train time, chatting diad Hie Hem letter Went to in the hotel lobby with bright-eyed Hox S41, where It was extracted by Uttle Toolte-woolle Kerrigan Miss Dorothy Patterson and for- ‘0 you trailed her alright, did you warded to Brother Peewee in Port lad? You're a grand boy! And where land, according to instructions. Pat does she live?" terson summoned the board of strat- Boar use on Sixty-fourth oo and its embers went into Street," said Toolle-woolle, “I got sion in his hotel room. Peewee her name from the grocer on the the missive aloud: corner, I asked him who the girl was ‘Dear Doris: on crutches'"\— “twas an awful boob all right, rutches? not to have recognized you before ure s a cripple—didn’t you — this, but everything is O. K. now know tha he can't walk no better As soon as you told me where you than I could before I went to the hos- sit, T knew it was the same little pital. I guess that's why she comes sweetie that [ had been lamping early, and waits till the crowd is out al! along, only I couldn't remem-~ of the park before she gets up. Her ber just then where I had seen ame is O'Donnell; didn’t get the first you before. I got a kid to trail name—say, what's the matter?" you home, and he got your name Bull Feeney's jaws were opening off the corner grocer, so I sent and closing spasmodically, His mind some flowers, and I will sure call was trying to adjust itself to the when I get back. flood-waters of memory. He sank in- “The last time I met you, me to a chair and your father was working in ‘If that wouldn't knock you kick- the World Series at Chicago. Jim ‘he breathed. “It's Jim's daugh- was one swell umpire, and It sure ter, sure enough—the little Doris busted me all up when I heard “USUALLY PUGILISTIC ENCOUN- TERS ON THE BALL FIELD HAVE LITTLE SIGNIFICANCE AND ARE FORGOTTEN IN A DAY OR TWO. BUT THIS FRACAS WAS DIF FERENT."” + | grown up. That explains everything. about him getting killed. He was T remember now; she was hurt in the @lways talkin’ about you, and same train wreck that killed him; and showing me your letters. You now here she is on crutches and con- look a lot like him, only of course herself to be me own sweetie a lot prettier I mean It; [ ain't Come here, Toolle."* never seen any one who could The King of the Umps fished in his come up to you for class. The yest pocket and produced a five-dollar boys all have noticed you and bill they will be wild to think I have “I've got to be headin’ for the copped you off, though of course train,’ he explained, “but there's a lke me, they didn’t know about flower shop on the corner. Get some- the crutches, or aboug you being thing swell in the line of roses—pink 80 bad hurt. ones—and take ‘em out to her. “Now, sweetle, I want you to “What'll [ say?" know them crutches don’t mean Feeney looked at his watch. “Just nothing to me at all, only I hate tell her that Bull says he's wise," he to see you looking sv pale and instructed, ‘and that he'll write from weak. You leave it to old Bull to Portland; she'll get the rest." fix things all jake, honey. I got “Fair enough," sald Toolle-woolle, one of the grandest mothers in Half a dollar plus car fare.”* the world, and I'll send for her The fee was pald promptly, and right away. Then I got a cabin they separated, Feeney to race madly up in the mountains on a timber u train that would carry him claim, and it's the prettiest and seven hundred miles away from the healthiest spot in the world. Me boarding house where a frail girl on and Mother will take care of rutches feasted her eyes that night you, sweetie, and we'll make your n the most wonderful bouquet she cheeks just like them pink roses ad ever seen and listened to the ab- on your hat surd message delivered dutifully by “Babe, your letter sure has the son of Big BIll Kerrigan. But made the world look a lot differ + was tt so absurd, after all? Why ent. I don’t get no more fun out ) should Miss Doris O'Donnell, in the of riding the players or the clusion of her shabby room, crush crowd, or banding out the fines: pink roses to her breast? Why because I realize now that most ould she, kimono-clad, sit so long all the boys are married and have that night repeating over and over wives or kids, or else they got again: some little sweetie, only they'll ‘He's just seen me sitting there never have none as nice us the He doesn't know about the one that I got itches, He doesn't! He "So, honey, just you take S== LOVE AND BUSINESS—IN \ “ORDER YOUR EVENING NEXT SATURDAY’ Ss COMPLETE NOVELETTE HE HELPLESS HOLIDAY — By HUGH McNAIR KAHLER Illustrated by WILL B. JOHNSTONE TALE OF MANY SURPRISES WORLD iN ADVANCE good care of yourself—and wait for old Bull to make things come out all right. You ain't no more crazy about me than I am about you “1 guess T will close now etic, you won't have to use m crutches much when I'm wound, because [ll carry you. That's the kind of @ guy Iam. “Yours truly, “BULL FBENEY.' " KEWBDE PATTERSON slowly folded up the letter. For a full minute the silence was golden. Finally Rube Ferguson tilted hack in his chair and sighed pro- toundly. “There it goes!’ he commented. ‘There goes your old ball game! I'll tell the world that's gumming it up the prettiest I ever seen. Say, who started this thing?” “Don't look at me," protested Pee- wee. “We was all in on it, What I want to know is: how come Bull to wet switched off on to little Sweetie? You fellows know ‘who he's talking about. It's that little Jane that sits over by first base. The one we call Sweetle."* “She ain't on crutches!" protested Rube. “Yes, she is; I seen her on the street the other day, and she's a mighty nice little girl. Lefty, where did you sit that day?" “Don't try to start nothin’ with me," growled Lefty, “I sat just where you nuts told me—to the right of the plate. I come down the alsle and swung over toward third base''—— "First bass shrieked Peewee, “That's the righthand side “No, it ain't," snarled Lefty. ‘Not the way pitchers look at it, it ain't! And don’t an umpire face the stands the same way? I doped it out, and U'll bust you one right on the’'—— “Oh! moaned Patterson That letter was supposed to be from a girl, not an umpire or a pitcher! I ask you a simple question: Did you ever see a left-hander that wasn't cugkoo? I'm offa you for life—I'm through!"* Truck Darrow banged a heavy fist on the table, “Oh, no, you ain't! You ain't through by a@ long ways. You go to Bull Feeney''—— “Me?” eah, you! Wasn't it your bright idea to sink the hooks into him? Well, you got ‘em in; now let's #1 you get ‘em out!"” Rube Merguson chimed in: If Bull ain't put wise that tt's a frame-up he'll send for his mother and go call on Sweetie, That will gum things up prettier than ever. We'll be shown up for a lot of yaller dogs, won't we? Say, d that letter again, will you? Read that part about him laying off us, and about carrying her around." wee complied, and there was an- other aftermath of sober silence. ube broke it: ‘Il tell the world I'm for that guy! Looks like we done him a lot of dirt Umpirin’ is a tough job."* Truck Darrow nodded emphatically, “I'll say it 1s. I was an umpire once in the Texas League. Bull's got my sympathy. Peewee, you gotta tell the old boy that we crossed him, He won't feel no worse than I do."* Rube Ferguson grunted dismally: ee you through . Tl be the other goat," said “He's stopping down at the St. Let's go get it over with.” fty. Regis. ER that Interview between the King of the Umps and three representatives of the Board of Strategy, the three ball players sat down to think it over, “If he'd only opened up on us,"* Veewee groaned, “instead of just sit- ting there lookin’. I'm going to drop @ line to my sister, and tell her to get acquainted with this jane and sound her out, Dolly's a good scout. Maybe Sweetie can be induced to fall for this guy and then everything's you're talkin!"’ said Lefty. “Your sister can introduce the whole kang and then we can all smoke it up about what a grand fellow Bull is, Now you're getting the old eye ball! This game ain't lost Rube admitted, ‘It ain't lost, 5 two out in the ninth, and but the I'll tell the world it's going to take a swell little beans!"' “I'l lead off, then,"’ said Peewee. And he did-—-wrote home that night and implored his sister to come to their rescue. In Miss Patterson's be- half, it should be stated that she did her very best. Nothing could please @ young girl more than a romantic commission like that. A week passed, battin’ rally to save the and then another. Peewee and his team-mates were tn Salt Lake; Bull Feeney was still in Portland, The following letter came from Miss Pat- terson: “Dearest Bud: ‘I can't find any trace of her. No one seems to know her ad- lress. The ushers say they haven't seen her since the Sunday \{ternoon when we did that fool- ish thing. Did you know she was the daughter um of & very famous No wonder she took so much Interest in the game It seoms perfectly dreadful to think of a girl on crutches sitting there luy after day watching you boys yo full of If we anything her? Son me tol! + ' od te tra auything further It there's ¢ y A GIRL. I oan do, telegraph at ance. “Dolly.’ That letter left ita recipients panio- stricken. “Didn't Bull say he got her address off @ kid, and sent her some flowers? asked Rube Ferguson. ‘The thing to do now is to get the address off Bull.” Peewee shook her head “How you Ing to do that? Bull's in Portland and anyway, you couldn't get the ad dress out of him in @ million yeare He's all broke up; hi through! Ir jet on that she don't go to the games no more, that will hurt him worse than ever.” Peowee's right,” said Lefty. “Next week we play at home, and Bull wil! ‘be there too. We can look him over and whether he’s got the old pep back, and {f he ain't—why, we'll have to go out and do a little gum-sho work. Some of these olub officials ought to know her,” HE days passed uneventfully The teams returned to the Bt. Clair grounds, Bull Feen ey's assignment sent him to the same place. They were ver) much shocked when they beheld him “He oughta to lay off,” opined Fer guson. “The old boy ain't there— Ife, no pep. Seems Iike he was ten years older. I seen him lookin’ up at the stands a little while ago. He seex she ain't in the old seat.” “What do you figure that guy doing? asked Ferguson. ane day, he was lookin’ pretty good. 1! thought everything was jake again He was kiddin’ with me, and seemed to have all his pep back. Yesterday he looked bad, but this afternoon he's white as a ghost. Brick was tellin me that Bull tried to beg off workin’ but on account of his partner betn new, they wouldn't stand for it. I Wl you, he's weak as a cat.’ ‘8 the heat,’ said Peewee. "A them fleshy guys suffer in the heat “Ye-ah, but this one ain't eve sweatin’ You watch Bull tryin’ t cut across the diamond on a play « third. He runs like he dru I wonder if he's hittin’ the old bottle? “He's calling the plays too good f. that,"’ Lefty remonstrated. ‘No, thi’ bird is just in; that's all. I doy think he’s going to last the game.” EFTY came very near to calli: the turn. Bull Feeney ju managed to finish on his feet and that was all Then, the game over, the Kin, the Umps took a few uncertain st toward his dressing room, swayed moment, and pitched face forward « the grags. When they got to his + he was in a cold faint. Ferguson, Pewee, Lefty and Bri McGovern helped to carry him i the seclusion of the little room und: the stands, They shooed the othe players away “We know what's wrong,” mu: bled Peew Get away By dint of vigorous massage, ar liberal applications of cold water, tl restored Bull to consciousness. “We'll take care of hin “Bull,"" besought Peewee, kneelit by his side, ‘you got me s cuckoo. Don't take it so hard, ma We been lookin’ for her to try an things all jake, Just you tell us whe che lives, and we'll square it all up you won't have to do nothin.’ * Bull Feeney's lips curved in an « smile. ‘She's in the hospital,’ whispered. ‘That's the trouble; that how I come to blow out like that.” “In the hospital?" cried Left jee, what's the trouble, Bull? SI ain't bad off, is she?" Feeney propped himself into a si ting posture with their help. He spok slowly “No, she ain't bad off now. She going to come out all right, and she going to get married—to a big bum. "Gee!" said Peewee. “Ain't th: always the way? I ask you a simp! question: did you ever see a girl that didn’t fall for a fathead?" “Tis a queer story,"’ Feeney ex plained. “This little girl, you minc was a cripple. Same trouble as B') Kerrigan's kid. She was intereste in the big bum, but not a bit woul she encourage him, till she finds ou whether an operation will help her t« walk, So she goes to the hospital and falls for one of them bone-grafts Operation {s successful, but when she {s comin’ out from under the chloro form, she calls this big bum by name until Doc decides to send for him, and ask him what's the big idea, | Th fellow's explanation makes every- thing O. K., but the little girl is so weak that they see she ain't going to pull through" —— “I thought you sald she was goin to be married?"’ Peewee protested. “The King of the Umpires grinned up at them. The color was coming back to his gills. “So I did," he assented. “T was but callin’ the play the way it looked to me. She ain't going to die. Bet- ter still, she's going to walk—that is, she'll be able to walk with the ald of the fathead. You see, he didn't have much to offer her, but he hed always lived clean, and he was built husky. There was one thing he could give her, and the doctor said ‘twould save her*—— What was ‘hat?’ they demanded “'Blood,' nswered, “a quart of It, and ever 1) of It straight from ie heart me up, you birds, and mind the bandages on me lef arm; I promised her Ud be buck 1 ». Mil rlante reserve. win paper Bervice, New York.) ee ene ee j i | i | | oe ee a