"Stur-r-r-r-ike one!" bellowed the umpire.
"With him all morning," said Bean condescendingly to his admiring
companion. "Get shirts same place," he added.
His cup had run over. He was on the point of confiding to his companion
the supreme felicity in store for Breede as a grandfather. But the
batter struck out and the moment was only for raw rejoicing. They
forgot. Bean ceased to be a puzzle to any one, and Breede lapsed into
unconsciousness of Julia.
The game held them for eleven innings. The Greatest Pitcher saved it to
the home team.
"He was saying to me only this morning--" began Bean, as the Pitcher
fielded the last bunt. But the prized quotation was lost in the uproar.
Pandemonium truly reigned and the scene was unquestionably one of
indescribable confusion.
Outside the gate they were again Breede and Bean; or, rather, Bean and
Breede. The latter could not so quickly forget that public recognition
by the Greatest Pitcher.
"You're a puzzle t'me," said Breede. "Lord! I can't g'ome yet. Have't
take me club."
"Can't make y'out," admitted Breede once more, as they parted before the
sanctuary he had indicated.
"Often puzzle myself," confessed the inscrutable one, as the little old
last year's car started on. Breede stood on the pavement looking after
it. For some reason the car puzzled him, too.
Bean was wondering if Julia herself wouldn't have been a little appeased
if she could have seen the Pitcher single him out of that throng.
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