“You’re the one that started that bunch of errors in the eighth inning,” McRae shouted, pointing an accusing finger at him.
“Aw,” muttered Curry, “any one can make a muff once in a while.”
“It isn’t for the muff I’m calling you down,” retorted McRae. “I know that can happen to any man, and I never roast any one for it. Why, we lost the World’s championship one year in Boston when Rodgrass made that muff in centerfield. I never said a word to him about it, and in the next year’s contract I raised his salary. What I’m panning you for is that rotten throw that followed the muff. That’s when you lost your head. You could easily have caught Burton at second and stopped the rally.
“And you, Burkett,” he went on, turning to the first baseman. “For a man who calls himself a major leaguer, you certainly went the limit this afternoon. Don’t you get sleep enough at night that you have to go to sleep on first? And those wild throws, one over Renton’s head and the other over Mylert’s. Oh, what’s the use,” he continued, throwing his hands in the air. “I’ve got a doctor on this club that can take care of any bone in the leg or bone in the arm, but he can’t do anything with bones in the head.”
If they thought he had worn himself out, they were greatly mistaken. He turned to Iredell.
“Come outside, Iredell,” he said, “I want to have a word with you.”
Once outside the clubhouse, he turned a grim face on the captain.
“I didn’t want to call you down before your men, Iredell,” he snapped, “because I didn’t care to weaken the discipline of the team--that is, if there’s any discipline left in the club. But I want to tell you that if your work to-day is a sample of the way you captain the team, why, the sooner there’s a change in captains the better.”
“I don’t know just what you mean,” muttered Iredell, an angry red suffusing his face.
“You know perfectly well what I mean,” declared McRae. “How about that ball that fell to the ground between Larry and Burkett? Either one of them could have got it. Why didn’t they?”
Iredell remained silent, fingering his cap.
“Because you didn’t call out which was to take it,” McRae himself supplied the answer. “Their eyes were on the ball, and when each said he could get it each left it to the other. All you had to do was to call out the name of one of them, and he’d have got it. That’s what you’re captain for--to use your judgment in a pinch.