Although Bristol said nothing to Jewett, it was sheer luck which kept the pitcher from receiving a call-down by his manager. It was also luck, combined with poor work on the part of Curley, that gave Jewett an opportunity to reclaim himself in the second inning; for the locals got after Curley with such effect that two runs had been secured through hits and errors, with only one man down, when Kennedy pulled the twirler from the mound, and sent Sullivan out. On Sullivan’s long swing another run came in before the home team was retired. With this comfortable lead of three tallies, Bristol decided to save his new man for a tight pinch or some other game. “It’s uphill work now, boys,” said Kennedy to his players; “but a bunch that can’t fight an uphill game is no good. Get after that easy mark, and force Bristol to show us what he’s got out there in the offing. Make him use his new colt.” Already the wise old war horse had sent Heines out to keep his flipper oiled, fearing that Sullivan would prove meat for the Bucks. Despite Jack’s urging, which possibly made the youngsters of his team a bit too eager, Jewett got away with it in the first of the second, only one man threatening from third before the side was retired without cutting down that lead of three. “Now,” said Spider Hogan, field captain of the Buccaneers, “it’s up to us to put the wood to Sullivan. That old soup bone of his can’t keep this bunch in check. Every man that gets on first steals on his swing. Don’t forget.” Kennedy also had his fears for Sullivan’s “soup bone.” He spoke to Lefty Locke, who was watching the progress of the struggle with the keenest interest. “Reddy can’t hold ’em,” he said; “nor Heines, either. If I had that left-handed youngster of mine to put in here now the boys would support him, and perhaps they’d tie this thing up sudden before Bristol got cagy and shoved his new man on to the slab. You’re left-handed, and you’ve found out that you can handle a baseball.” “You don’t mean――” muttered Locke. “You know where that grip of mine is containing an old suit. There’s everything in it but a left-handed glove, and Collins is left-handed. He’d let you have his fielder’s glove. He could get along without it out in right.” “You don’t mean――” repeated Lefty. “I can’t tell you any plainer what I mean. Which had you rather do, pitch baseball for me at fifty a week and keeps, or work on a farm at twenty-five a month?” “If I thought――” Locke still hesitated. “Let me do the thinking for you,” urged Kennedy. “Get into that suit, and watch your chance to take Heines’ place warmin’ up the minute I have to use him. You can reach the dressing room by going round this side of the field.” “I’ll try it,” said Lefty, rising; “but don’t blame me――” “There won’t be any kicks comin’,” promised Kennedy, elated. “I’m taking the chance. You haven’t made any profession of being a ball tosser. Go to it.”