THE STEAM-SHOVEL MAN
Walter Goodwin became more effective and cool-headed. The fateful seventh inning arrived, and the score still stood at 6-6. Then Cristobal gained a run on a timely hit. A little later, Culebra filled the bases with two men out. Walter hitched up his belt and stole a glance at the grandstand. Eleanor was leaning forward, lips parted, hands clasped, "wishing hard enough to win," as he had so often beheld her on the high-school field at Wolverton. He turned to face the Culebra batter, a bronzed six-footer of the steam-shovel brigade. Just then there came booming across the field the voice of Naughton:
"Oh, you Goodwin! Remember how you handled the stuff on the dynamite ship. This is easy."
This was the right word in due season. Walter realized that he had stood the test of a bigger game than this, that he had proved himself in the day's work. As methodically as if he were carrying cases of dynamite across the deck, he turned and sent the ball breaking across the corner of the plate. The Culebra giant swung at it as if he expected to drive a
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