Argosy All-Story Weekly, June 27, 1925 — page 129: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

“WE WANT MABEL!” York to play ‘the opening game with the Giants. It was a cold, raw April day, there had been a slight rain in the morning and. the indications were for a slim attendance. To the amazement of the management the grounds were mobbed. Nearly forty thousand people paid their way in. And before the game started there began in the bleachers a tramping of feet and a monoto- nous chant which gradually spread to the grand stand and soon the whole multitude was stamping and shouting in unison: “We want Mabel! We want Mabel!” A mob must be humored. The manager of the Giants sought her out and led her, blushing and laughing, down into the field. There was a mad burst of applause, loud cries of: “Qh, you Mabel!” “Yum, yum.” “ Peaches and cream.” “ How’s cricket?” Mabel kissed her hands to the crowd, which continued to shower her with kindly witticisms until she had returned to her box, and then the game opened. It was a wonderful game. ‘“ Mystery Man ” Greening went into the box for the Cricketers after the Giants had retired the first three batters for the Bolton team in order. Though it was his first big game the boy was cool as ice. Stimulated by the crowd, by the pres- ence of Mabel, by their unusual pitching, the Boltons played like champions. When the Giants did reach Greening’s delivery, their raps were smothered by the infield, two of whom were old Giant discards, while the green outfield had little or noth- ing to do. The crowd was all for Mabel and her hired men. They booed their own team, cheered every good play made by the Bol- tons, invited Mabel to go out and knock a home run, and in such manner enjoyed themselves. The game reached the seventh inning without a run being scored on either side. With the air-tight pitching of Greening, only bad errors on the part of the Cricketers could let in runs and the rejuvenated tail- tnders were not making any. In the first of the eighth big Harry Jones caught a wide 925 , curve on the end of his bat and jogged around the bases in a leisurely manner while a fan in the back of the center field bleach- ers put the ball in bis pocket. Amid the pandemonium a reporter heard Mabel exclaim in her high-pitched English voice: “ That’s cricket!” It wasn’t, but the remark headed several of the accounts of the game next day, for there was no more scoring, The Cricketers broke even with the Giants on the series and continued on their way, the best advertised team in the league. Playing way beyond their form, they con- tinued to win games, and at the end of a fortnight, when they returned to Bolton they were in third place. IV, THE downtrodden fans of Bolton were frantic with joy. After years of hopeless- ness, at last, they had a team. With a big brass band, they met the players at the railroad station, tied ropes to the automo- bile containing Mabel and Crab McNulty, and dragged it to the Grand Hotel, where a big banquet had been prepared. The Mayor was there, a couple of members of Congress and all the baseball enthusiasts of the city. The souvenirs were little cricket bats. Mabel delivered an address over which she and Greening had labored the night be- fore in the train, which was full of imocent errors, Anglicisms and guilelessness which caused the diners to roar with delight and merriment, and which amused the whole country next day. By this time the girl was as keen and intelligent a follower of the game as any, but her act requiréd the other sort of thing. During the next few weeks the Cricketers slipped a little. Aside from Greening, the pitching staff was very second rate; and the veterans were beginning to lose their steam. They landed in fourth place, but the article of baseball they were putting up still looked gilt edged to the Boltonians. Greening had won ten straight games, no one had solved his curious system of delivering the ball, and the “ mystery ball” COMmica@oo SS Co