Now, when the Cowardly Lion of Oz had first tangled with and beheaded the Forest Monster, the other animals of the area had named him their king. They had since come to recognize Ozma as the overall ruler of Oz, but they joyfully accepted their tawny savior as their local leader.
The Cowardly Lion had taken to the job as well as any coward could be expected to do. He knew that, when he had accepted this position of power, he also took on a responsibility. The other animals were now his subjects, and he felt it was his duty to protect them from outside dangers such as hunters or other predators. He also thought it politic to offer his advice whenever one of his new charges had a question or a problem. It was one such event that is pertinent to this part of our story. About a week prior to Queen Ozma's meeting with the Land Sharks, a young wombat had come to the Cowardly Lion to ask his advice.
"Hello," said the smaller creature. "Your majesty, Mr. Cowardly Lion,Sir?"
"Yes?" replied the Lion, looking around to see where the voice had come from. "W-who's that? W-who said th-that?" When his large eyes came upon the wombat, he seemed to smile. "Why, Ricardo, there you are. I didn't see you at first. How are you doing?"
"Okay, I guess," said the wombat.
"And your mother?" added the Lion.
"She's fine," said Ricardo.
"I am very happy to hear it," said the Cowardly Lion. "But tell me, my friend, why you seem so glum. A boy your age shouldn't have any problems that would cause such glumness. What's wrong?"
[Illustration: Cowardly Lion and Wombat]
"Weeeeell," began the wombat slowly. "It's kind of silly, I guess. But I wanted to ask your advice about something."
"You think it's silly to ask my advice?" said the Cowardly Lion, pretending to be hurt.
"No, that's not what I meant," replied Ricardo. "I mean, what I wanted to ask you about is kind of silly. I'm not sure it would be right to waste your time on. I think I should leave now …" He turned to leave.
"Now now," said the Lion, becoming serious again. "No problem that is troubling one of my subjects is silly. Nor is it a waste of my time to hear the needs of today's youth. What's troubling you, my boy?"
"Well," began Ricardo, "you see … well, I have this friend …"
"Oh, it's about a friend is it?" said the Cowardly Lion knowingly.
"Oh, no," said Ricardo. "I'm not trying to pass the buck. It really is about a friend of mine. You see, he's a real copy cat. He likes to do everything I do, and he does it exactly the same way, and it's driving me wom-batty. I want to tell him to think for himself, but I'm not sure how to go about it."
"So what is it that he does that you don't want him to do?" asked the Lion. "I mean, if he is doing exactly as you are, you must be having a good time together. Aren't you?"
"No, I mean, like … Like last week I found a really neat shiny rock that I thought I would like to keep. I took it home with me, and when Henry saw it, he went out and got one that was just like it."
"Is that bad?" asked the Lion. "The rocks are there for everyone to use as they need them. What's the matter with that?"
"And when I made a welcome mat for my mom to put in front of our home, Henry went and made one like it for his mom! It's like he can't think of anything for himself. He has to use all of my ideas. I wish he would find his own means of expressing himself, instead of always stealing my ideas. It's like, I learned a new song that I was going to sing at wombat school, and then Henry went and learned it, too!"
The Cowardly Lion looked at Ricardo and seemed to smile again. "Ah, Ricardo," he said. "I think your little friend is doing it out of affection for you. Imitation, after all, is the highest form of flattery—well, next to bringing you food, at least. I think your friend just admires you so much that he wants to be just like you."
"Really?" said Ricardo. "Gee whiz, I hadn't thought about that. I thought it was just that he refused to think for himself. Or maybe that he felt I didn't deserve to have anything he didn't. Or that he simply wanted to drive me insane. But maybe you're right. He does seem to like to hang around with me a lot. Maybe he just wants to imitate me because he admires me! That's pretty neat!"
"Yes it is," said the Cowardly Lion. "So you have a responsibility toHenry now as a role model."
"A what?" asked Ricardo.
"A role model," explained the Lion. "If Henry is going to do everything you do, you certainly don't want to do anything too foolish."
"Oh, yeah," agreed Ricardo. "That's true. Thanks for your advice, Mr.Lion King, Sir."
"Any time, Ricardo," laughed the Lion. "Be sure to give my respects to your mother."
"I will," said the wombat, scampering off happily and chanting something under his breath about being a role model.
"If only the problems of the adults were as easily handled as that," laughed the King.
"Mr. Your Majesty?" came another voice. "I want to ask you some advice."
The Cowardly Lion looked and saw another wombat. "Aha," he said. "Let me guess. Your name is Henry, right?"
"Gee," replied the smaller animal. "You know my name! You must know everything!"
"I do," said the Lion jokingly. "And I had a feeling that you'd be along soon. So what's troubling you?"
"Oh, it's nothing much. I just really wanted to come and talk to you."
"I see," laughed the King. "You are friends with Ricardo, are you not?"
The little wombat's eyes seemed to grow out of their sockets. "You really know everything! You really do! I'm sorry I cheated on my last spelling test. I promise I'll never do it again!"
The Cowardly Lion was a little taken aback by this statement, but he covered it well. "I was going to bring that up if you didn't," he lied. "You must tell your teacher and make up the test if you want to grow up to be a king like me."
"Oh, I will!" agreed Henry. "I will go and tell her right now!" He dashed off toward the wombat schoolyard.
"And so I am now a psychic," laughed the Lion. "Next I'll be expected to be able to fly or to leap over tall buildings in a single bound. But I guess it's all part of being a king. And I have to show my subjects that I am a good king, so I must do my best to be all that they expect me to be. I've got to be strong, and try to hang on. I have to be kind and understanding toward their needs. And most of all, I have to be brave!" He let out a practice roar that shook the very ground beneath his paws. "I am a brave lion! I am the King of the Beasts! I am feared by all, and I fear nothing! I am brave and I am…" As a grasshopper leaped in front of him, the Lion nearly jumped out of his skin. "Aaaaaah!" he cried. "What is it? What'd I see? I saw something move!" Another grasshopper jumped in the air, and the Lion, that strong and courageous King of all Beasts, bravely turned tail and ran.
The Cowardly Lion ran and ran. He had no idea just how long or how far he had gone when he stopped to catch his breath.
"This sort of cowardice is sure to make me old before my time," he said to himself.
As he settled down in a pile of leaves for a short rest, he heard something rustling in the bushes nearby. "Wha—" he said. "What's that? Who's there?"
"D-don't hurt me, Mr. Lion," came a voice.
"W-who are you?" shivered the Lion.
By way of an answer, a small brown monkey with shaggy fur walked slowly out of the brush. "P-please don't eat me, Mr. Lion," he said fearfully.
"Don't worry," replied the Cowardly Lion. "I had no intention of doing so. What were you doing in the bushes?"
"I heard you coming, and I was afraid," explained the simian.
"I can identify with that," said the Lion with a smile.
"I was afraid that you might be one of those awful spider-creatures that saps away the energy from everyone else," continued the monkey. "But I can see that you are not. You are a much nicer fellow than that. I think I've seen a portrait of you somewhere, in fact. You are … My oh my! Can it be true? You're him, aren't you?"
"Who?" asked the big cat.
"You are the great Lion that defeated the Forest Monster before!" said the monkey. "I'm sure of it! What other lion in Oz is so big? Aren't you the one who is called the Cowardly Lion of Oz?"
"Yeah," said the Lion, not especially proud of the title, but happy that he was so famous with even this small monkey that he had never seen before. "That's right. I am the Cowardly Lion of Oz. It is a title that is far more honest than flattering. And who might you be?"
"I am Cubby," said the monkey. "I live in the Lunechien Forest of Oz."
"Lunechien Forest?" echoed the Lion. I'm not sure just where that is. Is it far from here?"
"Pretty far," sighed Cubby. "I was running away."
"Running away?" replied the Lion, whose advice-giving nature was beginning to surface. "Now, dear little Cubby, my lad. Whatever problems you may be having at home are no reason to run away. You can't run away from your problems. You should go back and try to talk it out. Why, I can…"
"You don't understand," said Cubby. "I wasn't running away like a child who has had a disagreement with his parents over a cookie or something. I was running for my life."
"Oh," replied the Cowardly Lion. "Well then, that's a whole different ball of wax. If you were … Huh? What? You were running for your life? What do you mean?"
"The Forest Monster has been sucking the energy out of all of the animals of the Lunechien Forest, and I know he was coming for me next! I was so afraid, I just wanted to get away from there as swiftly as I could. Then, when I heard your heavy breathing, I thought it was the Forest Monster coming for me. I thought for sure I was a goner."
"The Forest Monster?" echoed the Lion. "But I don't understand. I had a run-in with him once myself. I knocked his head off while he was sleeping. I know it was hardly sporting to do it that way, and I am a little ashamed that I didn't even give him a sporting chance, but I have to think of the innocent beasts whose lives were at stake."
[Illustration: Cowardly Lion and Cubby]
"I think there may be more than one," said Cubby. "Unless the one you fought somehow got himself repaired."
"I suspect that would h-have to be the case," stammered the Cowardly Lion. "I d-don't think there could be more than one of those creatures. I had assumed it was created by magic, sort of like a green elephant or something. But if it is alive again, it will probably find out who it was that defeated it before. It will be looking for me."
"I'm afraid it already knows who you are," spoke Cubby. "And it hasfound a way to take the energy from other beings and use it for itself.It is already so powerful that I doubt anyone could stand against it."He paused. "Oh, except for you, of course. I know you could defeat it.You did it before."
"Er, yeah," said the Lion, his eyes growing to several times their normal size. "I g-guess I d-did. B-but he was so much easier to tackle when he was asleep. Now that he has multiplied his power, I'm n-not sure I c-could do it again."
"Oh, but you can! You must," said the monkey encouragingly. "You can't let him keep getting stronger and stronger! Sooner or later, he will find you. And he probably won't stop at that. He may cross the desert and go into the mortal lands. He might start attacking Ix or Mo or even Merryland! And then he may infiltrate the mortal lands like America, where your friend Dorothy lives!"
"D-Dorothy?" said the Lion, suddenly looking more angry than afraid."She's just a little kid! He wouldn't do that to a child?"
"He did it to several of the small and helpless beasts in the LunechienForest," said the simian. "Even insects are not safe from him."
"Well, he is a spider, as far as that goes," replied the Cowardly Lion. "Insects are a normal diet for him. But small children are not! How dare he even think of hurting little Dorothy? What a wicked creature he really is! Where is he? Let me have a talk with this nasty arachnid!"
"That's the spirit!" cheered Cubby. "Come on, let's go!"
The Lion had already forgotten about his exhausted condition. The thought of Dorothy being in danger had taken precedence over all other thoughts in his head. He followed Cubby closely until he felt he had to rest. They traveled and rested for as long as it took before at last they reached the border of the Lunechien Forest of Oz.
"I sure hope we can find him in his sleep again," whispered the Lion to himself.
"Come on," said Cubby. "I know where his lair is. If he hasn't moved on to more densely populated territory, that is."
"W-wouldn't it be rude to just b-barge in on him?" said the Lion, his cowardly nature suddenly returning.
"I don't think so," replied Cubby. "I think we need to stop his wicked deeds as soon as we possibly can. We can't let him get to Dorothy, you know. Nor the Scarecrow or the Tin Woodman or the Woggle-Bug. No one is safe as long as the Forest Monster is at large."
"You're right!" said the Cowardly Lion dutifully. "We are the only ones who can stop him. Where is this overgrown daddy long legs?"
Cubby led the huge animal through the forest to the lair of the gigantic spider. When they got there, they were met with a most unexpected sight. There was a pack of Land Sharks. They looked frightful and hungry, and they surrounded Ozma, Tweaty, Nibbles, Lisa, Hootsey and Elephant. "Those are some of my friends who live in this forest," explained Cubby. "Except for the little girl. I don't know who she is. Is that Dorothy?"
"No," said the Lion, his voice sounding hollow. "What is she doing here?Why are your friends here? They should have followed your act and fled."
"It iss dinnah time!" shouted one of the Land Sharks. "I believe ve shall bekin vith ze big gray helefantt!"
"No!" said Cubby. "Don't let them do it!"
The Cowardly Lion trembled with fear as he watched the huge Land Shark turn to face the little monkey. When the Shark moved toward Cubby with its jagged teeth exposed, he pounced on it.
"Get ziss kitty offa my back!" screamed the Land Shark. "It hass sharp clawss, und zay are hurtin' me!"
The Lion jumped off, and the impact of his jump knocked the Land Shark over. To tell the truth, the Land Shark's legs were rather thin, and his balance was not very good to begin with. This displayed to the others the Land Sharks' main weakness. Thinking quickly on his feet, Elephant raced toward another of the Sharks and knocked it over on its face. The Shark's front teeth were dislodged, and it ran behind its fellows. Without its teeth, the Land Shark was much more vulnerable than it had been previously. Seeing that the other Land Sharks were distracted by the Lion and Elephant, the Forest Monster took its opportunity to strike. Within moments, the Land Shark was no longer a threat to anyone, having been drained of all of its life force. The added burst of energy gave the Forest Monster more ability to take out more of the Land Sharks. But he was so preoccupied that he failed to notice Watts and his four companions surround him with their ferocious teeth bared. This caused the Forest Monster to hesitate while he sized up the situation. Here he was, the bad guy, trying to get bigger and stronger at the expense of the Land Sharks, yet at the same time inadvertently saving Ozma and her friends, and now Ozma's forces were bearing down on him while his back was turned. "Hey! This is grossly unfair," he said, almost crying. Just then, a group of Droffs, accompanied by several Sniffers and Stinkfoots, arrived. The confusion allowed Ozma to use her silver wand to cast a spell. Between the Forest Monster, Elephant, the Stinkfoots, Sniffers and the Cowardly Lion, the Land Sharks were disabled within a matter of forty-five minutes. Those who had not been deenergized by the Forest Monster or otherwise rendered harmless by one of the others had fallen to their spindly knees and were pleading for mercy. One was staring directly into the foot of one of the newcomers and crying hysterically. All the while, Ozma had been using her wand to turn the Sharks into tiny snails, which Cubby picked up and put into a nearby pond.
"It is finished," said the Cowardly Lion. He pushed his aching body to the ground and licked one of his wounds. "The Land Sharks are subdued. I don't think they will have the same cruel spirits now that they are snails."
"Indeed not," said the Forest Monster. Turning to the Cowardly Lion, he added, "You fought bravely. For one who is called Cowardly, you certainly didn't show any signs of having earned that title in this battle."
"But I felt them," sighed the Lion. "I was only acting brave because I saw my friends in danger. To tell you the truth, I was scared out of my wits the whole time."
"Your friends?" echoed the Forest Monster. "You call us your friends?Even me? Do you not remember who I am, and what you once did to me whileI was sleeping?"
The Lion did a double take. "Oh, yeah! I was so caught up in the battle with the Land Sharks that I forgot what I had come here for."
"I was, too!" agreed Cubby. "But the Cowardly Lion was coming here to have a talk with you," he added, remembering the words that the Lion had spoken to him earlier. "He said that he was ashamed of what he did to you without giving you a sporting chance." These last words on Cubby's part were intended only as an observation. He had no idea that they would have any effect on the Forest Monster at all.
"Is that so?" wondered the huge spider. "You mean to say that you came here to apologize to me? And you even counted me among your friends. How wrong I have been in my assessment of your character. You are not so cowardly after all. In fact, I feel proud to have fought alongside of you. I would like to start over and get to know you for what you really are."
The Lion was taken aback. "You would?" he said. He had no idea what else to say. He had come to the Lunechien Forest thinking that he was to face the greatest enemy he had ever known, and that enemy was speaking to him as if they were old friends who had just met after a long period of separation.
"Of course I would," said the spider. "I see now that I was wrong to hate you so badly when I didn't even know what sort of fellow you really were. And seeing how I felt when we were attacked by those Land Sharks without having any way to fight them off showed me how grossly unfair I was for having taken the energy from helpless insects and animals. I was as bad as them, and I don't ever want to be like that again! It's much too frightful. I'd rather have a solid group of friends than have all the power in the world."
"I think I am guilty of the same thing," sighed the Lion, still a little spooked by the abruptness of the Monster's turnabout in nature. "I knocked your head off as you slept, but I didn't know what you were like, either. All I knew was what I was told: that you were eating all of the lions and the other animals, and that they wanted to make me their king if I stopped you."
"So you are their king now," said the Forest Monster. "I do not begrudge you the position any more. You are welcome to it. I suddenly feel like I don't care for any position of power any more. When I was gaining the power I now possess, I was allowing myself to be blind to anything but my ever-growing hatred of you. Now that I see how unfounded that hatred really was, I feel that it was I who was the true coward. I was sapping the life energy from countless helpless creatures. I did not give them any sporting chance, either. Nor did I have any excuse to justify what I was doing except that I wanted revenge. It is I who should feel ashamed of himself, not you. Now I have all of this power and strength that was brought about by my hate, and it is no longer of any value to me. All it has done was to make me all the more angry and heartless. If this is the price of strength, I think I'd rather be weak. It is far better to be small and have friends than to have all the strength in the universe but be so full of anger and resentment that you can't even enjoy it."
"So now that you have become a mountain of power," replied the Lion, "you no longer care to be powerful?"
"Exactly," sighed the Forest Monster. "If there were a way to reverse time and put things back as they should be, before I ever hurt anyone, I would do it. I wish I could apologize to all of the poor animals that I sapped. If their spirits are still in the vicinity, I hope they see how utterly foolish I feel for having taken such unfair advantage of them."
"It is very sad that so many of our friends and families had to be destroyed in order for you to have learned this lesson," said Elephant, thinking sadly of the loss to the forest and its denizens. "But I hope that you will try to reverse your reputation now by putting your strength to good use. It is hard to forget what you did, but I think that, in time, we will all be able to accept you as a neighbor. At least, if you act like one."
"Oh, that I will do," said the spider gratefully. "I will do all that I can to make up for my past misbehaving."
"Then it seems we are no longer needed," said one of the Sniffers. "We met the Droffs on our way here, and they have agreed to help us plow our fields. If our job here is done, I think we should like to go home and get started."
"Me wants to plow fields," said the Droff who stood beside him.
"Then something positive did come of all this tragedy," said Hootsey."Not only have the Sniffers and the Stinkfoots made friends with theDroffs, but the Forest Monster has had a major-league change of heart.But can we at least find the empty shells of our families and give thema proper burial?"
"That would be right," agreed the Forest Monster.
"Wait a minute," said Ozma. "You mean to say that the bodies are still around? You didn't devour them entirely?"
"No," explained the Monster. "I only drained them of their energy. I never actually hurt their physical bodies. Only their internal energy."
"And their energies are still inside of you," observed Lisa, catching on to what Ozma was getting at. "So you never actuallykilledthem! Their bodies are still alive, but dormant because they have no life energy. That means that, if we could reverse the process, we could put all of their energy back into their bodies again!"
"It would," agreed Ozma, "if the Forest Monster would agree to do this." She turned to the tremendous arachnid. "It will probably mean that you will have to allow yourself to become small again. I don't mean as small as you were when the Cowardly Lion first met you, either. I mean that you will again be reduced to the size of a regular, normal spider in order to restore all that you have wronged to their former liveliness."
"Oh, yes!" said the Forest Monster. "This I will gladly do! I am happy to go back to that small size. It allows me to maintain a lower profile, and I would like the opportunity to practice spinning my webs in private. I'll bet that, in time, I will be able to spin the most gorgeous webs you can imagine! If that comes to pass, I would consider it a great honor if one of my masterpieces could be coated in silver and gold, I should like to give it to Your Majesty as a gift."
"I would be delighted to receive it, I'm sure," said Ozma kindly, though she was not sure what she would actually do with such a treasure. "But I think it is now time to restore the Lunechien beasts."
"I agree," said the Cowardly Lion. "And, as everything seems to have come out well, I think it is time I head home to the Forest where I am now king. I've already been away too long as it is."
"Of course," said Ozma, taking his paw in her hand. "Thank you for all your help."
"Think nothing of it, my Queen," he said. Then he lumbered off towardLion Country.
"And now," continued Ozma, "back to the job at hand." She put her fingertips to her temples and concentrated. The Forest Monster felt a slight tingling sensation in his heart, but nothing else happened.
"Maybe you need to use your wand," suggested Lisa. "Or say an incantation?"
"Or make some kind of magical motions?" put in Tweaty.
"No," sighed Ozma. "This operation is not as basic as all that. The Forest Monster has grown so vast that my untrained abilities are not going to work. It may be weeks before I will be up to this challenge. I'm afraid I'm just not used to being a fairy yet. But I think I could do it if I had an Anmars."
"A what?" asked Elephant. "I've never heard of an Anmars before."
"It's a standard magical tool that most wizards or witches would have. But I don't think there are any more witches in the area. Allidap and her evil sister were both destroyed by Dorothy, and the Witch of the Deep South got rid of most of her old implements, saying that they reminded her of a time she'd prefer to forget."
"How about Glinda?" suggested Tweaty, who was still in the form of a small orange pachyderm. "She's a Good Witch, you know. Wouldn't she have one of those Mars things?"
"An Anmars," corrected Ozma. "Yes, I'm sure she would. But the last I heard from her, she was going to visit some place that was having a drought and try to correct it. A place called Yoraitia. I do not know where it is."
"Yoraitia?" echoed Tweaty. "I flew by there once! I know where it is, and it isn't very far from here. But there was a dark and shadowy place on the way. I didn't land there, as I thought it looked scary and dangerous. But I can lead you there, if you want me to."
"Then we are saved!" said Elephant with a loud trumpet blast. "Even if that shadowy dark place is dangerous, no one can stand up to our formidable Forest Monster!"
"Er," pouted the Monster, "I'd rather not be thought of that way any more. Like your Witch of the Deep South, there are things that remind me of a past that I'd rather forget."
"Of course," said Lisa. "I'm sure Elephant didn't mean to imply that you were mean any more."
"Certainly not," replied the pachyderm. "So can we be on our way? I so want to be reunited with Tiger and Pinky and the others."
"Of course," replied the Forest Monster (and it is actually getting hard to keep referring to him by that title in light of his abrupt change of heart. I have to wonder, was he ever really all that monstrous?). "Why don't you ride on my back. I have very long legs, and it will make the going much faster."
They all agreed to this plan, and were off to find Yoraitia.
It has been mentioned before that, although very comprehensive maps exist of Oz, there are areas that are totally uncharted and about which very little is known. One such area is the Land of Lost Shadows. In fact this may be the very first time that this mysterious land has ever been mentioned by any living human being. That is because no one has ever known where a person's shadow goes when he dies. It has always been assumed that when someone's physical form is no more, his shadow automatically disappears along with it. That is quite true, of course. But does anyone ever stop to think where it disappearsto!
Now, it is very true that if you are separated from your shadow when you are alive, it can be sewn back on again. Any child who has ever read the story of Peter Pan knows that this is so. But when a person's body dies, the shadow has no desire to be buried in the ground or to be burned up. None of these things bother the body because it is not aware of anything. But the shadow is totally aware and is anxious to remain active and useful. Sometimes these shadows are helpful and good. Other times, the opposite is true. Scholars of Oz are already well aware of the time when the shadow of the Wicked Witch of the East made a ploy for revenge against the magical country. But no shadow can continue to remain alive outside of the enchanted lands. After all, it is but a shadow of its former self (if you'll pardon the pun). So it just zips off to Oz to reside in the Land of Lost Shadows. Now, the word 'lost' is a misnomer here. The shadow itself is anything but lost. In fact it is quite at home in its new abode. However, it is lost as far as the rest of the world is concerned. Well, enough of these explanations. Let us get back to our story. No created beings other than shadows had ever crossed the borders of Shadowland (which is the name used by the inhabitants). That is, no one had until Elephant, Ozma, Tweaty, Hootsey, Lisa, Nibbles and the Forest Monster happened to stumble on it by accident. And the way that happened was as follows: Each member of the little band was so preoccupied with his own thoughts—especially Elephant. He was still thinking how close he had come to being eaten by the Land Sharks and the miraculous change of heart on the part of the Forest Monster. As for the Monster himself, he was feeling bad about all the evil things he had done, and was contemplating what he would say in apology to all of the animals he had wronged. Since it was getting dark by this time, he failed to notice the thick, dark area looming up in front of him, when CRASH! He went straight into it. And since it was really dark now, the shadowy occupants were quite invisible. Hootsey suggested that there was no point in stumbling around in the dark, and that the best thing to do would be for everyone to lie down and go to sleep.
This seemed like a fine idea to Elephant, who promptly flopped down on the grass—almost squashing Nibbles, who was already snoozing under him. The Forest Monster also took a position of repose, but far enough away from his smaller charges that he knew he would not roll over and squish any of them. In the twinkling of an eye, he was fast asleep. But it was hardly a restful sleep that he experienced. It was a deeply troubled sleep. In his dreams, he saw the tortured faces of the many that he had mistreated in his angry power play. The wispy night visions experienced by his companions were hardly any more enjoyable, except those of Princess Ozma, who rated enough respect from the Sleep Fays that they would not allow any negative influences to disturb her sleep. Instead, she saw visions of the beautiful Love Fairy, and the lilting, music-like laughter of the Laughing Fay. These served to make her smile inwardly as she slept.
Ozma was the first to awaken. She felt refreshed and envigorated. The sound of birds chirping and the warm sun on her face brought her out of her deep restful slumber.
The first thing that her eyes focused upon was a two-dimensional shadowy shape moving toward her along the ground in much the same manner as the shadow of an airplane would. She instinctively looked up at the sky to see what flying object might be casting its shadow on the ground. But there was nothing to account for it. Then she became apprehensive, for it occurred to her that perhaps one of the land sharks had escaped her snailifying spell and followed them and that was what she was seeing. But no; it was definitely just a shadow, for it had stopped right in front of her. Then the shadow stood up as it became a three-dimensional human being.
"Good morning," said the shadow, who had now taken the form of a very ordinary man. This awoke the others, who were surprised to see a man in a baseball uniform.
"Forgive me for startling you all," said the man. "But you see, when the sun comes up high enough in the sky, we shadows resume the forms of our previous selves. In fact, we are identical to our previous selves except that our bodies are composed of high-frequency molecules as opposed to the low frequency molecules of our earthly bodies." Seeing the quizzical look on everyone's face, he quickly continued: "It's quite simple, really. We are composed of the same material you are. After all, none of us could reside in Oz if we weren't."
"It makes sense, when you think about it," said Ozma. "But I am very curious as to why you are wearing baseball clothes. Have you just come from a game?"
"Yes, I have," answered the man. "Baseball is pretty big in Shadowland. You see, we have a large population here of old baseball players and baseball fans. It's the biggest thing we all have in common, so we tend to congregate together. As a matter of fact, we not only have games between ourselves, but we invite teams in the United States to visit when the players are in restitude. We have a wonderful time together. Of course, the visiting players don't usually bring back the memory of the games when they awaken in the morning—Well, maybe some fragmented dreams—but that doesn't detract from the game or the great fun we have. Those young whippersnappers think they'll show us old timers a thing or two, but boy, do they get a run for their money!"
"Might I inquire as to your name?" questioned Tweaty, rather timidly.
"Why yes," came the simple reply. "My name is Richard Marquard. Please, just call meRube."
"Sounds like a backwoodsy hillbilly name to me," said Elephant, intending his words to sound like friendly teasing.
"Ha ha!" laughed Rube, equally friendly. "My nickname being what it is, you probably automatically assume that I must have been a country boy. That's what most people figure. But it's not so. Fact is, my father was the Chief Engineer of the City of Cleveland, and that is where I was born and reared."
"Okay," said Elephant. "So then, why is it that you are calledRube?"
"Well, it's a long story," answered the ball player's shadow.
"Then we had better not take the time to hear it all now," said Hootsey."We have a very important mission to fulfill."
"Yes," agreed Lisa. "But perhaps Mr. Rube could help us. I think we should bring him along."
"A grand idea!" exclaimed Ozma. "Mr. Marquard, would you be so kind as to join us on our mission? I would like to hear your story, and then will be happy to tell you ours."
[Illustration: "My name is Richard Marquard. Please just call meRube."]
"If I had been asked to join an undefined questing party by any other than the Queen of all Oz, I might have hesitated," came the reply. "But as it is from you, I will come along."
"Splendid!" said Elephant. "Then let us be off!"
Rube was lifted atop the Forest Monster, as were Elephant and the others, and from this high podium Rube began his unique tale. "It all started with my father," he explained. "Like I say, he was the Chief Engineer of the city of Cleveland. As far as he was concerned, the only important thing was for me to get a good education. But as far back as I can remember, all I could think of, morning, noon and night, was baseball.
"'Now listen,' Dad would say. 'I want you to cut this out and pay attention to your studies. I want you to go to college when you're through high school, and I don't want any foolishness about it. Without an education, you won't be able to get a good job, and then you'llneveramount to anything.'
"'I already have a job,' I'd say.
"'You've got a job? What are you talking about?'
"I'm going to be a ballplayer,' I'd explain. But Dad was not very receptive.
"'A ballplayer?' he'd say, throwing his hands up in the air. 'What do you mean? How can you make a living as a ballplayer? I don't understand why a grown man would wear those funny-looking suits in the first place.'
"'Well,' I'd answer. 'You see policemen with uniforms on, and other people like that. They change after they're through working. It's the same way with ballplayers.'"
"That sounds reasonable to me," said Tweaty.
"Me, too," said Queen Ozma. "I certainly don't wear the same clothes to a meeting with a foreign dignitary as I would wear while playing marbles with Jellia Jamb."
"Certainly not!" agreed Nibbles.
"If only my father had thought that way," sighed Rube's shadow. "But he just scoffed. 'Do ballplayers get paid?' he'd ask.
"'Yes,' I told him. 'They get paid.'
"'I don't believe it!' he would rant.
"And 'round and 'round we would go. We'd actually have that same argument, almost always word-for-word, at least once a week. Twice a week in the summer. Sometimes my grandfather—my father's father—would get involved in it. My grandfather was a nice man who liked baseball, and he would usually take my side.
"'Listen,' he'd say to my father, 'when you were a youngster, I wanted you to be something, too. I wanted you to be a stonecutter, same as I was when I came over from the old country.' Oh, did I mention before that my grandfather was a stonecutter?"
"No," replied Elephant. "You just said that he was a nice man who liked baseball."
"Okay," said Rube's shadow. "Well, my grandfather had been a stonecutter, and had tried to persuade Dad to become one, too. 'But no!' he would say loudly into my father's ear, 'You wouldn't listen. You wanted to be an engineer. So youbecamean engineer. And a darned good one, too. Had I forced you into masonry, you would never have excelled in the craft for which you had no love. And you would have been very unhappy. Now Richard wants to be a baseball player. He's so determined that nothing is going to stop him. Let's give him a chance and see what he can do. Don't force the boy to give up on his dreams.'"
"Your grandfather sounds like a wise man to me," said Ozma.
"He was," said the shadow. "But Dad would never listen. 'Ballplayers are no good,' he'd insist. 'Ballplayers are no good, and they never will be any good.' It was very frustrating. He would usually end the argument by slamming the door and going outside to sit on the porch. And he would stop speaking to my grandfather or me for hours at a time."
"That's too bad," said Tweaty. "If you were good at baseball, you should have stuck with it."
"But I did stick with it," replied the shadow. "I told you, I just came from a game."
"Oh, yeah," said Tweaty. "So you mean you brought your Dad around?"
"Well," the shadow said slowly. "The thing is, I was always very tall for my age. I had three brothers and a sister, and my sister was the shortest of the five of us. She grew to be six feet two. So you see, I was constantly hanging around the older kids and playing ball with them instead of hanging with kids my own age. When I was about thirteen or so, I used to carry bats for some of the Cleveland Indians, such as Elmer Flick, Napoleon Lajoie and Terry Turner. Of course, they were not called the Cleveland Indians then. They were called the Cleveland Bronchos in those days. Then the Cleveland Naps—after Napoleon Lajoie. Anyway, after the regular season was over, a lot of them would barnstorm around the Cleveland area, and sometimes I'd be their bat boy.
"Later on, I even pitched a few games for Bill Bradley's Boo Gang," the shadow added proudly.
"Boo Gang?" said Lisa with a little shudder.
"Boo like a Ghost?" added Hootsey.
"No, no," laughed Rube's image. "Bill Bradley was the third baseman for the Cleveland Indians—and one of the greatest who ever lived—and he also barnstormed with his 'Boo Gang' after the season was over. So by the time I was fifteen or so, I knew a lot of ballplayers. And I had my heart set on being a Big Leaguer myself.
"Well, one of my best friends was a catcher named Howard Wakefield. He was about five years older than I was. In 1906 he was playing for the Waterloo Club in the Iowa State League, and …"
"1906?" echoed Lisa. "But … But …"
"What's wrong?" asked the ballplayer's shadow.
"You have to be mistaken," said Elephant, recognizing the reason for his friend's perplexity. "It isn't 1906 yet. It's only 1902!"
"I think he's from the future," said Lisa. "Rube Marquard is from a year that hasn't happened yet."
"But how is that possible?" asked Hootsey.
"Have you ever noticed," explained the shadow, "how you can stand in the middle of two or more different sources of light, and cast several shadows in various directions?"
"Of course," said Hootsey. "And sometimes I have a long skinny shadow that is faint and grayish, while I also have a short fat shadow right under me which is almost completely black. And when I'm flying, I can make lots of different shadows that don't even touch me anywhere."
"Yes," said Rube. "And these are all your shadow. If you go on a stage with many footlights, you will cast various images of various shades of gray. These are all your shadow. You see, your shadow can go in any direction, backward or forward. It can reach to a distant area or stay situated close by. And it can do all at one time without ever letting go of you—even if, as you say, it isn't actually touching you. You are always attached at some place. As the shadow of Rube Marquard, I touch him always, even while he is far away in repose. I can be his past, his future, or his mirror image. That is why I can remember experiences he hasn't even had yet. Sometimes we shadows accidentally create a feeling of deja vu in our live counterparts, which can lead to a false sense of psychic ability."
"I don't know much about American sports figures," said Elephant. "But it sounds like you are someone who is or will be important to Baseball. But how did you convince your dad to let you play?"
"Yes," agreed Hootsey. "You still haven't told us."
"Of course," replied the shadow. "As I was saying, I had a friend by the name of Howard Wakefield. He was playing for the Waterloo Club in the Iowa State League. That summer—when I was only sixteen—I got a letter from him.
"'We can use a good left-handed pitcher,' the letter said. 'And if you want to come to Waterloo, I'll recommend you to the manager.' I think Howard thought that I was at least eighteen or nineteen, as I was so big for my age.
"I wrote Howard and told him that my dad did not want me to play ball, so I didn't think he'd give me the money to go. If I asked him, he'd probably hit the ceiling and rap me over the head with something. Aside from that, I was ready to go."
"Well," said Lisa indignantly, "a good father would have encouraged you to go. He should have been able to see that you were good at what you did, and that you deserved this chance to make good."
"Absolutely," agreed Hootsey. "But I don't expect that your father gave you the money. Did you ever get to Waterloo?"
"Well," answered the shadow, "pretty soon I got a telegram from the Waterloo manager. He said that I had been recommended very highly by Howard Wakefield, and asked if I would like to come and try out for the team. The Waterloo manager offered to reimburse the cost of transportation if I was given a contract."
"But you still couldn't get the money from your father," said Ozma.
"No," sighed the ballplayer. "It was hardly an improvement over Howard's letter. So I just went upstairs to my room and closed the door. Then I wrote back a long letter to the Waterloo manager, explaining that I didn't have any money for transportation. But I told him that, if he sent me an advance right now for transportation, I'd be on the very next train to Waterloo and he could take it out of my salary later on."
"That's assuming you were hired, of course," said Lisa.
"Yes," agreed Rube. "But I didn't have the slightest doubt that I would make good. And, of course, I didn't mention that I was only sixteen years old. I thought it best to leave that out.
"I mailed the letter to Iowa, and then I waited on pins and needles for an answer. Every day I had to be the first one to get at the mail, because if anyone else saw a letter to me from the Waterloo Ball Club—well, that would have been enough to alert Dad to what was going on and I'd have been sunk. So every day I waited for the first sign of the mailman and tried to get to him before he reached the house. As it turned out, I could have saved myself a lot of worrying."
"No letter ever came?" guessed Lisa.
"Nope. Three weeks passed and still no answer." The shadow sighed again. "I couldn't understand what had gone wrong. Maybe it was against the rules to send transportation money to somebody not yet under contract? Maybe they didn't know how good I really was? Maybe this and maybe that. It was another frustrating period of my life. Finally, I just couldn't stand it any longer. I gave my folks a story about camping with the Boy Scouts and hitch-hiked to Waterloo."
"You lied to your parents?" said Ozma, startled by the very idea.
"Yes, I did. It was a hard thing for me to do, going against Dad like that. But I was well punished for the deed. Believe me! Have you ever had to hitch-hike, sleep in open fields, or hop a freight train? It took me five days and five nights. The longest five days of my life, and I was only sixteen at the time. But I did get there. Tired, anxious and half-starved, I blew into the Illinois Central Station at Waterloo, Iowa on a freight train early in the evening. Just before it stopped, I jumped off and went head over heels right in front of the passenger house. I hardly had time to pick myself up off the ground before the stationmaster grabbed me and shouted, 'What do you think you're doing? Come on, get out of here before I run you in!'
"'No,' I said. 'I'm reporting to the Waterloo Ball Club.'
"'You're what?' he says. 'My God! Did you ever wash your face?'
"'Yes I did,' I said. 'But I've been travelling for five days and five nights, and I am anxious to get to the Ball Park. Where do the ballplayers hang around?'
"'At the Smoke Shop,' he says. 'Down the street about a half of a mile. If you walk down there, probably whoever you're looking for will be there.'
"So I thanked him and said I'd see to it that he got a free pass to the ball game as soon as I got settled, and started off for the Smoke Shop. It turned out that two brothers owned the Smoke Shop, and they also owned the Ball Club. One of them was behind the counter when I walked into the place. He took one look at me and let out a roar like a lion's.
"'What are you doing in here?' he yelled. This is a respectable place!Get out of here!'
"'Wait a minute,' I says. 'I've got a telegram from the manager of theBall Club to report here, and if I make good I'll get a contract.'
"'Are you kidding?' he says. 'Who in the world ever recommended you?'
"'Howard Wakefield did,' I said.
"'Well,' says the guy behind the counter, 'Wakefield is in back shooting billiards. We'll soon settle this!'
"I'd like to go back and see him,' I said.
"'Don't you go back there,' he shouted. 'Don't even think about going back there! You'll drive everybody out. Did you ever take a bath?'
"'Of course I did,' says I. 'But I've bummed my way here and I haven't had a chance to clean up yet.'
"So he goes into the back and in a minute Howard comes out 'Cripes!' he says. 'What happened to you?'
"I was explaining it to him when in came Mr. Frisbee, the manager, and I was introduced to him. 'I received your telegram,' I said. 'I didn't have enough money to come first class or anything like that, but here I am.'
"'Keokuk is here tomorrow,' says the manager, 'and we'll pitch you.'"
"'We'll pitch you?'" echoed Hootsey. "What a mean thing for him to say!Imagine, just pitching you out after all your effort to get there!"
"No, no," explained the shadow. "He meant that he wanted me to pitch the next day. But I was all tuckered out and hardly ready to do that. I really wanted to have a bath and get some sleep.
"'Tomorrow or never, Young Fellow,' he says to me. Tomorrow or not at all.'
"'All right,' I said. 'But could I have five dollars in advance so I can get a clean shirt or something?'
"'After the game tomorrow,' he said. Then he just walked away from me like I was nothing."
"How rude," said Elephant.
"The least he could have done would have been to let you take a shower in the locker-room," said Lisa.
"Well, I got to clean up," admitted Rube. "Howard took me to his rooming house and gave me something to eat. They let me sleep on an extra cot they had. And the next day we went to the Ball Park and I was introduced to the players and given a uniform that was too small for me. The Keokuk team was shagging balls while I warmed up, and they kept making comments about green rookies and bushers and nitchies and such; and how they'd knock me out of the box in the first inning; and how I should have stayed home with my Mommy. Ooh, I felt terrible. I had an awful headache and I was exhausted! Still, I was determined to show them that I could make good, and I went out there and won that game six against one!
"With that," continued the shadow, "I felt sure I'd be offered a contract. So after the game, I went to Mr. Frisbee and said, 'Welp, I showed you I could deliver the goods. Can we talk about a contract now?'
"'Oh,' he says to me. 'Keokuk is in last place. Wait until Oskaloosa comes in this weekend. They are in second place. They are a rough team, and if you can beat them, then we'll talk.'
"'Can't I get any money—any advance money—on my contract?' I asked him.
"'You haven't got a contract,' he said.
"'All right,' says I, and I didn't say another word. I knew that he was right. I'd have to prove myself before I could expect any handouts from this man. So I stayed quiet. I didn't say anything to anybody that evening. But when it got dark, I went down to the railway station, and the same stationmaster was there. He remembered me.
"'Hey!' he says. 'You pitched a fine game today! I was there, and you did a great job! What are you doing back here? Did you come to give me that free ticket you promised me?'
"'No,' I said to him sadly. I'm sorry. I'm going back home to Cleveland, and I want to know what time a freight comes by.' Then I explained to him about everything that had happened. Oh, he was very nice to me. He completely understood where I was coming from. After we had talked for awhile, he said, 'Look, the train comes in at one o'clock in the morning and the engine unhooks and goes down to the water tower. When it does, you sneak into the baggage compartment. Meanwhile, I'll talk to the baggage man before the engine gets hooked up again. So when the train pulls out and is about five miles out of town, he'll open the baggage door and let you out.'
"And that is pretty much what happened," continued Rube. "When we were five miles out of town, the door opened and the baggage man appeared. I talked with him all the way to Chicago, and as we got close to the yards he says to me, 'Okay, you'd better get ready to jump now. There are a lot of detectives around here and if you're not careful, they'll jump on you and throw you in jail. So once you get to the ground, do not hesitate! Beat it away from here as fast as you can!'
"The baggage man must have told the engineer about me, as we slowed down to a crawl just before we approached the Chicago yards, and off I jumped. I got out of there quick and took off down the street. I don't know what street it was, and I'm not sure where I was headed, but I do remember that I was awfully tired. It was the middle of the morning and I had hardly slept a wink the night before. I had staggered about three or four blocks when I passed by a fire engine house. Evidently all of the firemen were out at a fire, because the place was deserted. I was tired, very tired, so I went in and sat down. Well, they had a big bellied iron stove in there, and it was warm. I guess I must have fallen asleep, as the next thing I knew, a couple of firemen were shaking me and doing everything they could do to wake me up. They called me a bum and a lot of other bad names, and told me to get out of there or they'd have me thrown in jail.
"'I'm no bum,' I said. 'I'm a ballplayer.'
"'What?' the firemen laughed. 'You, a ballplayer? Where did you ever play?'
"'In Cleveland, around the sandlots,' I told them proudly. 'And inWaterloo, Iowa, too! I beat the Keokuk team six to one!'
"'Yeah?' said one of the firemen. 'And last week I had dinner with Santa Claus and the Pope. So I suppose you're going to tell me that you are close buddies with Three-Fingered Brown, Chance, Tinker and Evans—I mean, Evers—and all of those fellows?'
"'No,' I said. 'I don't know them. But some day I'll be playing with them, or against them, because I'm going to get in the Big Leagues.'
"'Where are you going now?' asked the firemen.
"'Back home to Cleveland,' I told them.
"'Have you got any money?' they asked me.
"'No,' I answered. I had to be honest, after all.
"So they got up a little pool of about five dollars and said, 'Well, on your way. And use this to get something to eat.'
"I thanked them, and as I left I told them that some day I would be back again. 'When I get to the Big Leagues,' I said, I'm coming out to visit you when we get to Chicago.'
"And home I went. I played around home all the rest of the summer, and then the next summer—that would have been 1907, if I recall correctly, even though I'm remembering things that have yet to happen and I'm remembering them backwards—I took a job with an ice cream company in Cleveland. I made twenty-five dollars a week: Fifteen for checking the cans on the truck that would take the ice cream away, and ten dollars a Sunday, when I pitched for the company team. It was a good team. We played the best semipro clubs in the Cleveland area, and I beat them all. I was only seventeen, but I hardly lost a game.
"Then one day I got a postal card from the Cleveland Ball Club, asking me to come in and talk to them. Mr. Kilfoyl and Mr. Somers, the owners of the club, wanted to see me."
"Hurray!" said Hootsey. "So then, your father must have come around by then?"
"Hardly!" said the shadow. "My Dad saw the postal card and became very upset. 'So,' he said to me. 'I see that you still want to be a ballplayer.'
"'Yes,' I admitted. 'I do. And I'm going to be a great one, too! Just you wait and see! Some day you're going to be proud of me!'
"'Yeah,' he shrugged. 'Proud of nothing.'
"But I went to the Cleveland club's office all the same, and Mr. Kilfoyl and Mr. Somers were both there. I told them that I had received their card. 'You know,' I added, 'You got me into a little jam. My dad doesn't want me to be a ballplayer.'
"'Don't you worry,' said Mr. Kilfoyl 'After you sign with us and get into the Big Leagues, he'll think differently about it.'
"'Well,' I said, 'I'm not signing with you or anybody else until I hear what you're offering. I've been taken advantage of before, and it's not going to happen again. I know a lot of ballplayers and they always tell me not to sign with anybody unless I get a good salary. They all tell me you better get it when you're young, 'cause you sure won't get it when you're old.'
"'That's a lot of nonsense,' Mr. Kilfoyl said. 'Don't you worry. We'll treat you right. We'll give you a hundred dollars a month. That's a wonderful offer.'
"'I think he'll be overpaid,' Mr. Somers says.
"'I don't think that is so wonderful,' I said. 'And as for being overpaid, I get that much right now from the ice cream company, and in addition I get to eat all the ice cream I want.'"
"So it really wasn't an honorable offer," tsked Ozma. "Did they raise their offer?"
"No," replied the shadow with a sad expression. "They wouldn't increase their price. And I wouldn't reduce mine. So I left and went home. On my way home, though, I stopped in this sporting-goods store at 724 Prospect Avenue. It was owned by Bill Bradley and Ryan … Phylli … —I mean, Charlie Carr. Charlie managed and played first base for Indianapolis in the American Association. Bill, as I think I may have mentioned before, played third base for Cleveland.
"Anyway, when I walked in the door, Bill Bradley said, 'Hello, BigLeaguer. I understand that the boss wants to sign you up.'
"'Not me,' I said. 'He wouldn't pay me as much as I already make with the ice cream company.'
"'You know,' said Charlie Carr, 'I manage the Indianapolis Club.'
"'I know that,' I said. After all, everybody knew that!
"'How would you like to sign with me?' Charlie said with a smile.
"'You're in the minor leagues,' I replied. 'If a major league club won't pay me what I want, how could you do it?'
"'How much do you want?' he wanted to know.
"I took a deep breath and then answered, 'Two hundred a month.'
"'Wow!' he said. 'You want all the money, don't you?'
"'No,' I told him. 'But you want a good pitcher, don't you?'
"'Yes,' he answered simply.
"'Well, I said, I'm one.'"
The five Ozites laughed at this, and the shadow smiled. He was actually beginning to fear that he was giving them too many details and that his story may be becoming long-winded and dull. But seeing that he was not boring his listeners, he continued:
"He agreed to my terms, of course. So right then I signed my first professional contract, with Indianapolis of the American Association.
"When I got home that night I had to tell my dad about it, because I was to leave for Indianapolis the very next day. Oh, that was a terrible night! Finally, Dad said, 'Now listen, I've told you time and time again that I don't want you to be a professional ballplayer. But you've got your mind made up. Now I'm going to tell you something: when you cross that threshold, don't come back. I don't ever want to see you again.'"
"No!" said Ozma with a start. "No way! No father would say such a thing to his own son!"
"That was just what my father said to me," said Rube sadly. "He didn't want me to come home again. I was excommunicated from the family."
"That's awful!" said Lisa. "Parents do have a certain responsibility toward any children that they brought into the world! He was a skinflint and a creep!"
"Yes," agreed Rube. "His actions that day were like those of a regular skunk!"
"I've known some very nice skunks in my day," said Hootsey.
"In any case," said the shadow, not wanting to get into a debate about his use of the wordskunk, "I was as shocked as you all seem to be.
"'You don't mean that, Dad!" I said.
"'Yes, I do.'
"'Well,' I replied. 'I'm going. And some day you'll be proud of me.'
"'Proud!' he said. 'You're breaking my heart, and I don't ever want to see you again.'
"'I will not break your heart,' I said. 'I'll add more years to your life. You wait and see.'
"And so it was that I went to Indianapolis. They optioned me out toCanton in the Central League for the rest of the 1907 season, and I wontwenty-three games with them, which was one-third of all the games theCanton Club won that year."
"Good for you, Rube!" said Elephant, genuinely proud of his new friend.
"The next year—that would have been 1908—I went to Spring Training with the Indianapolis Club. We went to French Lick Springs, Indiana. After three weeks there we went back to Indianapolis and played a few exhibition games before the season opened. Well, believe it or not, the first club to come in for an exhibition game was the Cleveland team: Napoleon Lajoie, Terry Turner, Elmer Flick, George Stovall and the whole bunch that I used to carry bats for. When they came on the field I was already warming up.
"'Hey!' a couple of them yelled at me. 'What are you doing here? Are you the bat boy here?'
"'No,' I smugly replied. 'I am the pitcher.'
"'You, a pitcher?' they jeered. 'Who do you think you're kidding?'
"'Just ask Bill Bradley,' I told them. 'He was there when I signed my first contract. You'll see. I'm going to pitch against you guys today, and I'm going to beat you, too.'
"'Beat us? Busher, you couldn't beat a drum!'
"So then Bill Bradley came over and said hello. As he was leaving he said, 'Richard, you're a nice boy, so I want to give you some advice before today's game. Be careful of the Frenchman.' He meant Napoleon Lajoie. He said, The Frenchman is very sharp and he's been hitting terrific line drives this past week. He's almost killed three of our own pitchers in practice, so there's no telling what he'll do in a real game, even if it is just an exhibition game.'
"I thanked him, of course, and went back to warming up. Well, I pitched the whole nine innings and beat them, two to zero. Lajoie got two hits off me, and I think George Stovall got a couple, but I shut them out—and I wasn't killed, either.
"That night Charlie Carr called me over. 'You know,' he said, 'a funny thing just happened. Mr. Somers, the owner of the Cleveland club, just came over to my hotel room and wanted to buy you. He offered me three thousand five hundred dollars for your contract with the understanding that you'd stay here all season, to get more experience, and then you would join the Cleveland club next year.'
"'Charlie,' I said, 'if you sell me to Somers, I'm going right back to the ice cream company. He had first chance to get me, and he wouldn't give me what I deserved. So long as Somers is involved, I won't play for Cleveland, no matter what.'
"'Okay,' he said. 'Don't worry. I won't sell you. Later on I'll be able to sell you for a lot more, anyway.'
"On opening day, Kansas City was at Indianapolis, and I pitched the opening game. I won two to one, and that evening the story in the IndianapolisStarread like this: 'The American Association season opened up today, and it was a beautiful game between two fine teams. Each had great pitching, with an eighteen year old right-hander pitching for Kansas City and an eighteen year old left-hander for the home team. The right-hander with Kansas City looks like he's going to develop into a great pitcher. They call him Smoky Joe Wood. But we have a left-hander with Indianapolis who is going places, too. He resembles one of the great left-handed pitchers of all time: Rube Waddell.'
"And from that day on, they nicknamed me 'Rube.'
"I had a wonderful season that year with Indianapolis. I pitched forty-seven complete games, won twenty-eight of them, led the league in most strikeouts, least hits, most innings pitched, and everything. Occasionally what I'd do would be reported in the Cleveland papers, and friends of mine would tell me that they'd pass by the house and see Dad sitting on the porch.
"'Well, Fred,' they'd say—that was Dad's name, by the way, Fred—'Did you see what your son Rube did yesterday?'
"'Who are you talking about?' he'd say. 'Rube who?'
"'Your son—Richard,' they would answer.
"'I told him that baseball was no good,' my dad would reply. 'Now they've even gone and changed his name!'
"Anyway, I had a terrific year with Indianapolis, like I said. Late in the season we went into Columbus, Ohio, and Charlie Carr came up to me before the game.
"'Rube,' he said, 'there are going to be an awful lot of celebrities here at the game today. The American and National Leagues both have an off-day, and they're all coming to see you pitch. If you pitch a good game I may be able to sell you before the night is out.'
"'For how much?' I wanted to know.
"'I don't know,' he said. 'But a lot. It depends on what kind of game you pitch.'
"'Will you cut me in?' I asked.
"'No, I won't,' he said with certainty. 'You're getting a good salary and you know it.'
"'Okay,' I said. I was only kidding anyway.
"'I don't want you to get nervous today,' he said.
"'Nervous?' I repeated. 'Have I ever been nervous all season?'
"'No,' he admitted, 'I've been in baseball a long time and I never saw anything like it. I never saw a kid like you, who can beat anybody and is so successful.'