The

The Thanks for joining this is 1001 classic short stories and tales.

Today's story for one of my favorite writers, Zane Gray, is called the Red-Headed Outfield.

There was Delaney's red-haired trio. Red Gilbat, left-fielder, Reddy Clammer, right-fielder,

and Reddy Ray, Centerfielder, composing the most remarkable outfield ever developed in minor

league baseball.

It was Delaney's pride, as it was also his trouble.

Red Gilbat was nutty, and his batting average was 371.

Any student of baseball could weigh these two facts against each other

and understand something

of delaying his trouble. It was not possible to camp on Red Gilbad's trail. The man was a

jackalandard, a will of the wisp, a weird, long-legged, long-armed, red-haired, elusive phantom. When the

gong rang at the ballgrounds, there were

ten chances to one that Red would not be present. He had been discovered with small boys

peeping through knot holes at the vacant left field he was supposed to inhabit during play.

Of course, what Red did off the ball grounds was not so important as what he did on.

And there was absolutely no telling what under the sun he might do then.

Except once out of every three times at bat, he could be counted on to knock the cover off the ball.

Reddy Clammer was a grandstand player, the kind kind all managers hated, and he was hitting 305.

He made circus catches, circus stops, circus throws, circus steals, but particularly circus catches.

That is to say, he made easy plays appear difficult. He was always strutting, posing,

talking, arguing, quarreling, when he was not engaged in making a grandstand play. Reddy Clammer used

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