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Eddie yelled, "What in the world goes on here?" Then Ruth shot him. The bullet tore through his right lung, stopped near his spine. Eddie rolled onto his back on the carpet, looked up with a shocked smile and whispered: "Baby, what did you do that for?" Ruth knelt and held his hand. "You like this, don't you," Eddie murmured. Ruth called the telephone operator and said she had shot a man.
Off the Streets. Eddie didn't die. After removing some of the clotted blood from his lung, the doctors said he would play ball again. He sat up in bed and tolerantly described Ruth as a "Baseball Annie," one of an army of hero-worshiping teen-age girls who follow players around. He was kind of puzzled, though: "I don't know what got into that silly honey. Why pick on a nice guy like me?" After a second operation he learned that Ruth wasn't taking things too hard and lost his temper: "She seems to think this is a joke, but I don't. She should be taken off the streets—the same as a mad dog."
In jail, Ruth gaily conceded that she might be a little mixed up, discussed her "tensions" and "nervous strains" with vivacity. What with all the attention she was getting, she said: "I've never been so happy in my life."