TTIE STJXDAY OHEGOXIAX, POKTLA.XD. FEBETTART 12, 1922
7
mi ' ' '? ' j'',w '
, : . , But When the Boy ' . . M J'V.CJ " J
Became a World & . . . f
V Series Hero, the fS 1 . 1
V f7 Girl Changed Her P JT V '-- , j
tS ySk Mind About His . y 1 ; . . ' !
ffl Having "Wasted" ,S - " ;
v 'x. - -' -" - i i n' 1 fty r - w - I
IVaea reaJls4 k waa k-e a
I hat time far a hoy whe kin't
time for anything bvt h&Mbmlt.
Ivs delwl UlH Dorotlvx PrU rkU
BUh. BroAklrn. N. five year af.
That maafit Uiat Doratar waa a ea
tarmlned you wobub with a acrtaua
Intfwilon la llf. Hr darlalaa waa called
forth -by taa fact that S7-yar-eld 'ait
Hoyt, with whom aha had baea aotn ta
hlffh achaoj partlaa aaamad ta hara no
athr ambltioa tbaa ta apaa4 aJI his time
ao tha earner-lot eaaeball dtamaada
So Dorothy went har way aad Waita
eontlnued an hta
And yat Oorathy'a paranta tha other
clay annoancad her enjracement to Waite,
who hadat chanced hta mind. Dorothy
chanaed hera. but It took a world aeriea
In which Waita starred aa tha ootatandinK
hero ta maka her do it.
Hera f oilows tha atory af how It cama
about :
. OROTKT PTLE Is Sit year old
and charming. She is the daugh
ter of Mr. and Mra. Harry T.
Tyia of No. 1114 Avenue J. Flatbuah.
Brooklyn. N. T. Dorothy la a Flat
bush aristocrat. Her parents took up
residence) before subways) had come,
at a time when one ha to travel be
tween Flatbuah and tha business sec
tion of Brooklyn, on what Flatbush
Ites then called dunmy engines.
Whea part of the locomotive top blew
eft they would solder en an empty
tomato can and proceed. It was fun,
living; in Flatbush, then.
Five years a so, after having- kept
company with a 17-year-old boy for
two years, she suddenly realised that
bis ambition was to be a "common
ball player." Bo she just naturally
cast him off that's the only way of
xpresalns; It and fixed her pretty
eyes on the horison of young man
hood for other likely matrimonial
timber.
Then, one day last summer, aa she
and her mother awaited a subway
train in the "frrown-up" Flatbuah
community, the boy with tha worth
leas ambition to become a ball player
stood before her.
"Waita!" ahe exclaimed.
"Dot:- said he.
It was Waite Hoyt. star pitcher of
the New York Yankees, tha very boj
he had oast off five years before be
cause he had such a worthless Ideal
In life. It was Waite Hoyt. 23-year-old
pitching marvel, whose nam waa
a byword 'or fame, whose puzzling
delivery turned back Ty Cobb and
H oilman and Sisler and others of the
great batsmen of the American
league. It was Waite Hoyt. idol of
tha fans the country over, at that
time leading bis teammates In the
grueling last-minute fight for the
pennant ha eventually won for them.
Aa Old Flasae Starta Ascot!
Sha confessed to herself that he
looked, perfectly handsome. And she
wasn't bit peeved with her mother
when the latter invited Waite to call.
But ah o was a bit put out when she
happened to be absent when Waite
Aid call and had to ba contented wlta
bearing her father tell how he had
enjoyed living over with Waite soma
of the wonderful pitching battles
which, had made Waite famous.
"But the next time he called I was
In. Miss Pyle aaid the other day.
"And and well, wo renewed our old
friendship and I became quite a base
ball fan!"
When a ball player becomes the
Idol of thousands the country over,
when, ha achieves the highest geal
while attu a kid. he ceases ta be com
mon, becomes mora desirable and
sven la the eyes of a Flatbush aristo
crat must shine as a bright star at
which one should gaze.
And that is Just what happened.
From that moment of meeting Miss
Pyle took an added interest in pro
fessional baseball. And when Walts
Hoyt smiled up at the grandstand as
be walked from tha mound to the
bench between innings of a gam at
the Pole grounds he wasn't smiling
st the hundred-odd girls wh Imme
diately claimed ownership of the
smile. He saw only ens girl his bey
hood sweetheart. "Dot," sitting up
there la the seventh heavea of fcef
happfneee.
Nor did Miss Pyle marvel a bit at
the performance of the yeung giant
retiring the best of batters with ease.
For she always had before her mind's
eye the picture of the boy ia the buff
and blue Erasmus high school uni
form. And when th crowd applaud
ed and when hats war thrown In air
she harkened back to th schoolday
games when every time Waita regis
tered a strike-out a green sea f yel
low chrysanthemums earried by Eras
mus rooters waved at field of flow
ers in a wind.
She followed him through that
world series snd saw him emerge the
victor, even though his teammates
cam out vanquished. For tha great
"Big Six" did not excel Waltes record
from th standpoint of pitching ele
gance. If ever a pitcher eTeacrved to
win three games straight that man
was Waite Hoyt. even the victorious
Giant players agreed.
His first time out was Thursday.
October , when he hold the New York
National leaguers to two hits and
whitewashed them, J to 0. The fol
lowing Monday he vanquished them
again by 3 to 1, allowing them the
only earned run they were to get In
the aeries.
But his third game against them
the one he lost through sheer touch
luck proved him the master. Five
hits were garnered off him and how
measly they looked can be recalled
by the thousands who saw that his
toric contest, which settled a world's
series and lost the game for the bet
ter performing pitcher.
That one run the Gianta got cam In
the first inning. Burns went out,
Bancroft walked and Frisch fouled
out. Kelly, the elongated first base
man of th Giants, drove the ball to
ward short. A cry of derision srose
from th Yankee rooters. The out
seemed certain. Roger Peckinpaugh.
Yankee captain, the star shortstop of
the American league, was in its path.
But the yell changed to groans of dis
gust, which were drowned out by the
rosr of the Giant supporters when the
ball went between the legs of the
Yankee shortstop. Bancroft speeded
home, carrying the game with him.
Waite at the time did not realize
what had occurred. He figured that
Ptpp or Meusel would surely bring In
nough to overcome his captain's er
ror. And th on and only girl in the
world smiled encouragement from
th stand.
But the die had been cast 1-0
and 1-0 is the score today on the page
of baseball annals. And there wasn't
a heart In th vast throng that did
not sympathize with the kid pitcher
vbta h walked In for tha last time.
But he didn't need the sympathy,
after all. for some on whispered In
his oar. "You did fine, Waite, you
wonderful boy!" and that soothed the
ache of defeat.
He knew he had won. He kn
that when he won her he won more
than a world's series. Right there he
learned what th old bard meant when
he wrote: "Sweet are the use of ad-
sity!"
At the age of 2J Waite Hoyt has
embellished a paxe in the book of life.
He might now writ finis at its bot
tom and close it up with tha exulta-
tion that only comes to him who has threw out his arm Just after h had the age of 14 ho got interested. Mc
reallzed life's ambition. For the been signed by MoGraw to catch the Graw signed up tho kid. twlrler at th
Brooklyn schoolboy In knickerbockers,
who used to astonish admiring chums
with his speed and curves in games
played on the Prospect park parade
grounds, th while he dreamed of
FLESH OF MY
(Cfrntlnqeil From Pare 8
desk, at which, squeezed ' into the
Inadequate confines between the arms
of the desk chair and overflowing it
somewhat, sits Joseph B. Quill, head
of th bureau and Its entire working
fore aa well.
Coa Bhugru was impressed with
neither th place nor with Mr. Quill.
The latter seemed far too heavy both
physically and mentally for the deli
cate details cf confidential Investiga
tion. fellow workman at the car-wheel
works had suggested Mr. Quill and
his bureau to Con. And since he waa
har and Mr. Quill was already asking
for th third tim what he eould do
for httn. ther seemed nothing else
to do but stat the nature of his er
rand. So Con took a photograph from
hie pocket and laid it on th desk.
It was a likeness of Annie and him
self, takea in th accepted pose on
their wedding day.
"I should like you to find out th
present whereabouts of thi lady."
said Con.
Mr. Quill gased on the photograph.
The man In th picture being un
doubtedly th on who was speaking
to him and the habiliments of th
lady being of th bridal variety, he
got th right answer at tha first try.
"Your wife." said he.
"Quit o."
h'a beat It, I tak It?"
"Sh hasT"
"How long agoT"
Thre days."
"What was the trouble?"
"That's whst I want to find out."
"There's always reasons for every
thing," said Mr. Quill. "Don't b
Walte Hojrl, star Yankee twlrler, iT c . 1
wlnnlnc a 3-0 victory. I " rx U J I
some day mowing down opposing
batsmen in a world's series, did grow
Into the "giant killer" who twice sent
McGraw's world's champions to hum
ble defeat.
The nerve that enabled Waite to
win the championship of the Ameri
can .league for the New York Yan
kees and then to hold those formida
ble sluggers of McGraw to two lone
runs in 27 innings of peerless world
series baseball was nurtured on the
Prospect park parade grounds. All
day Saturday, every week day after
noon, until the sun began to cast th
shadows of the giant trees of Park
side avenue over the diamond Waits
went through his apprenticeship.
Waite knew the history of that field.
Ho knew that on every one of those
17 diamonds, where thousands every
day watch 34 amateur teams battle
simultaneously for supremacy, Willie
Keeler had learned to " hit 'em where
they ain't." He didn't remember Kee
ler. He was too young. But he did
recall Fred Jacklitsch. one of the few
big leaguers who ever "came back"
after release past the age of 30, for
he had watched Fred work himself
back into form and into the big
league lineups by afternoon praotlce
with the "grass-eaters" between th
diamonds.
And when Waite wasn't on that
field he was on. the back lots of Flat
bush. H used to watch. Dick Cotter
lazily stab a vicious gTasser In his
shortstop position on th old Mid
wout's diamond on Dorchester road.
How his soul stirred- when "Dick"
made the Chicago Cubs and caught as
understudy for Archer for a season.
Waite almost wept when Cotter
great Mathewsorv In the last season
that the blond master of th mound
performed.
These were the links in the chain
that led Waite to look toward Mo-
FLESH BY BARKER SHELTON
afraid to tell me tha who! story.
How about argjtner man?"
"Nothing in that."
"But you know some reason why
she left you. Think hard, and don't
be afraid, as I say, to tell m every
thing. The more I know a-bout it, th
quicker I'll be apt to find her for
you."
"There was a kid," said Con, slowly.
"We hadn't actually quarreled about
him. But there was some difference
of opinion between us about what
he'd be when he grew up."
"She took the kid with her, of
course?"
Con nodded.
"Did she have much money with
her?"
"Only a very little. Maybe not any
at all." .
"Has she ever worked at any job?
Before you married her or since?"
"Uh-huh. She worked on feather
flowers for a number of years.
Mr. Quill took up a pencil. He
jotted down Con's answers to terse
questions as to her name, age, weight,
color of her hair and eyes, and cer
tain details of the clothing she had
taken with her.
"Ought to be easy," said Mr. Quill.
'Ten dollars in advance to cover pos
sible expenses."
Con gave him the ten dollars.
"Where will I get you when I'v
found out anything?"
Con mentioned the earwheel works
as the best bet in the daytime and
gave the address of the flat where hs
might be located after C at night
Just before closing- tlms that eve
Graw. This was the chain that dan
gled before his boy eyes every time
"no saw the um-pire raise, his right
hand as the third strike burned
across under tha nose of a. startled
high school player.
"If I could only get on the Giants."
ho said to his father, "Dad" Hoyt, an
actor.
Dad knew McGraw. Both are mem
bers of the Lambs' club.
"The kid thinks he's a pitcher,
John." Mr. Hoyt told tho Giants'
leader.
McGraw knows th kind of players
th Prospect park parad grounds
graduates. When he learned that
Waite had won two pennants in the
Junior Eagle league and had pitched
an Erasmus high school ball team to
victory through an entire season at
ago of 16, the youngest pitcher ever
similarly reaognised.
But Waite didn't take it to head,
even though he did take it to heart,
He "paWed" just as he ever did with
ning Mr. Quill cams Into the molding
room at th earwheel works.
"You haven't located her already?"
Con asked him eagerly.
"Maybe not; but try this address."
Ha passed Con a slip of paper with a
street and number scribbled on it.
"Mrs. Annie Ghaughnessey came ther
with a baby three evenings ago and
took a room. Mrs. Bedlos runs th
house. Better look into this."
This latter advice was wholly super
fluous. Con went straight from the
earwheel works to the address on that
slip of paper. It was a dowdy street.
He rang the bell of a house that
matched th street.
A dispirited looking woman opened
th door; th Mrs. Bedloe who ran the
place, no doubt.
"Will I find Mrs. Annie Shaughnes
sey here?" Con asked her.
"I'll see if she's in."
"Let me save you that trouble," said
he, pushing; past her and mounting
tho stairs.
At the top of the third flight be
tried a door knob cautiously. It
turned noiselessly in bis careful
fingers; the door opened a crack. It
was not locked, then. H.e went in,
closed It, set his back against it.
Annie bounded out of a sorry looking
rocking chair by the yet sorrier look
ing bed where the baby was asleep.
"Annie, what crazy foolishness is
this?" he growled.
"I saw the gloves on him. It was
the last straw. You shan't make a
fighter of him!"
"I thought you said you wouldn't
interfere."
"I said I'd try not to interfere."
"You're coming home with me."
. , J ' 0lt I!
V 1 J
tgj
Watte Hoyt, who Is said to be the
handsomest pitcher 1b harness.
She shook her bead. "No, Con. I've
thought it all over. I'd rather It would
be you that was cheated than him."
"Who's cheating him?"
"You," she flared at him. "What's
all this you're doing but cheating
him? What's all this talk about him
being a fighter when he's not out of
his erib, and prodding him and pok
ing him and taking things he wants
away from him and scowling at him
so ho won't whimper whea you do it,
and keeping at him until he won't
think of anything when he begins to
think except what you want him to?
What's all that but cheating him?
Maybe he'd rather take holy orders
or be a poet or love music or some
thing lige that. And he won't know
because you've filled his poor head
with the etuff you want it filled with.
No, If anyone's got to be eheated It
shan't be him."
"I suppose," ho said, with (biting
irony, "you'll work in the feather loft
again to support him and give him a
grand education when he grows up."
"I'll save every cent for Mm I can,"
sh said.
"What you'll do," he said shortly, "is
get on your tningB and the kid'a
things and come home wih me."
"Will you promise to stop, all the
things you'vs been doing to him?"
"I'll promise nothing of the sort.",
"That's the way I thought it would
be," she said, dully. "So we'll stay
here. And I'll give him a. chance to
choose for himself, if I hav to work
my hands off -to do it."
"Anniet'that child is a real he-kid.
He's got red blood in him. My fight-,
ins blood is In his veins. Teach him
to be game? Teach him to fight? It
comes to him naturally, without any
teaching. It's in him. Born there.
He saw only one elrl his boyhood
sweetheart Dot op there Izt the
CxaAdstamd.
his schoolmates and when he first
met Dorothy it was someone else who
told her how distinguished her new
acquaintance was. Each was then 16.
They met at a fraternity dance at
the Hotel St. George, given by tha
.fraternity sisters of Dorothy at Pack
er institute, Brooklyn.. They danced
several times together and, as Miss
Pyle expressed It at her home the
other day:
She Just Loved His Dancing.
"The thing that first appealed to
me about Waite was his dancing. J
didn't know ho was a baseball player
then. In fact, I didn't care anything
about baseball. But after I met him
I became interested. He's a hand
some chap, everyone agrees. And
when we talked things over and I
found that he lived in Flatbush he
He gets it from me. Get on your
things and his! Do you hear?"
She went over to the doer and
opened It. Standing there, very
straight and very white, ehe motioned
him to leave.
"X hats the way you've acted about
him," ehe said between her clenched
teeth, "And hating the way you've
done, I've come to hate you. Now go
and leave us alone. It's the only
decent thing you ean do."
"Hate me, do you? What for? For
trying my best to make something
out of that kid that I know he'll do
better than anything else In the world
and be happier doing it than anything
else he might try? Think that over a
little!"
"I hate you," she said again, bitter
ly. "Now, will you go?"
"If you feel that way about it, sure
I'll go. Only'r-he went to the door;
sh thought he was going out, but In
stead he shut the door sharply- "the
kid goes with me, Annie."
She sprang at him in a blind fury,
Sh strove to hold him back from the
bed with all her strength. She beat
his arms, his shoulders, his chest with
impotent fists.
"You wouldn't do that!" she panted.
"You wouldn't go that far. You shan't
do it! You shan't!"
He brushed her aside. He started
for the bed. She staggered away
from the wall where his flat-handed
push had sent her. She was close to
the marble wash bowl set in its old
fashioned, cryptlike niche in the wall.
There were two quart milk bottles on
tbe edge of the bowl, one of them
half full, the pther empty. She caught
up th nearest one and leaped again at
her husband. She swung the bottle
with every last ounce of her strength.
Con Shugrue did not reach the bed.
He made a funny, whistling sound in
Miss Dorothy Pyle, whose engage
ment to Waite Hoyt, her childhood
sweetheart, Is announced.
lived on Woodruff avenue then and
h and I both were among the pio
neers of the section, 1 felt sort of
close to him. But to be very frank, 1
took absolutely no interest in base
ball. When I attended games played
by Erasmus I found myself cheering
like a crazy girl just because I saw
Waite being cheered by others who
knew what they were cheering for.
Frankly, I didn't; except, of course, I
was cheering for Waite."
This "puppy love" endJured two
years. Of course it might be inserted
here that Waite was a pretty much
overgrown "puppy." He tippedi the
beam at 165 pounda and combined
the strength of an ox with the grace
of a yearling buck.
He and "Dot" became inseparable.
Their friends winked and their par
ents looked wise. Everything seemed
pointed toward an engagement that
would end in ma.Tiage.
But when Waite quit being a
schoolboy and went out into the
"bush" leagues under the guidance
and instructions of John McGraw,
things took on a different aspect for
"Dot." And when reports drifted In
that he was a flivver as a bush
leaguer and that McGraw had cut
him loose, well, his friends began to
say that after all he mast have been
a sort of morning glory star.
But when, in the course of five
years of hard knocks, good' old solid
smacks of ash against leather with
the bases full and all that sort of
stuff, the kid "arrived," tho Yankees
picked him up and Brooklyn, that bor
ough of 2,000,000 souls, claimed him
solidly as its own.
So perhaps it was to be expected
that "Pot" was eaugnt in tho under
tow of feeling. And! that is why, on
day In the near future, when she
runs out to a quiet place to be mar
riedWfor that's how they intend to
do it the good wishes of Brooklyn
and Flatbush will go with them.
his throat and sagged and crumpled
to the floor, a ridiculous aBd ghastly
figure, blood and milk streaming
down his faee, since It was the half
full bottle that Annie had snatched
up. And over him stood Annie with
the other bottle in her hand, her face
v.-hiter than, his even with the milk all
over it. She shook from head to feet
and reeled dizzily, and great tears
rolled down her cheeks and dripped
from her chin. She threatened the
prostrate man with the other bottle
In her shaking hand.
"What have I done!" she wailed. "O,
God, what have I dene! But I'll do it
again if I have to. If you won't go
now-yes, again ."
Ha held up a hand to ward her off
and as a token of peace.
"Wait a minute! Hold up a sec
ond!" he begged thiekly, trying to col,
lect his scattered wits. "You won't
have to pass me another of them wal.
lops. I've learned something."
He propped himself on an elbow and
wiped the blood and milk from his
eyes wtih a corner of his coat.
'That kid don't get all his gameness
nor all his fighting blood from me.
Not by ft jugful, he don't He gets
as much of it from you; mere of It
even than he does from me, I believe."
His fingers gingerly explored his
scalp. "Yes, the most of his fighting
blood eomes from you, I'll bet. And
(f that's th ease, you'd ought to have
a little of the say about him just
about all of it, Annie; just about all
of it."
The baby was howling lustily on the
bed, but she did not hear it, for she
was "down on her knees beside Con,
his head in the erook of her arm,
while she wiped his face with her
handkerchief and crooned over it and
caressed it.
(Copyright, 1922, by Barker Shelton