CHAPTER XX
THE WARNING
Joe hesitated a moment. Everything would depend on his one throw,because there was no chance to get another ball of cord, and if this onewent wide it would fall into the fire and be rendered useless.
The fire was increasing, for all the chemicals in the tank on the wagonhad been used, and no fresh supply was available. Below the tower onwhich the man stood, the flames raged and crackled. Even the toweritself was ablaze a little and at times the smoke hid the man from viewmomentarily.
"I'll have to wait until it clears," murmured the young pitcher, when,just as he got ready to throw, a swirl of vapor arose.
"You can't wait much longer," said Tom, in an ominously quiet voice.
"I know it," agreed Joe desperately, and it was but too evident. Thetower itself, weakened by the fire, would soon collapse, and wouldcarry the man down with it into the seething fire below.
"Throw! Throw!" urged several in the throng.
Joe handed the loose end of the cord to Tom. He wanted to give all hisattention to throwing the ball. He poised himself as if he was in thepitching box. It was like a situation in a game when his side needed toretire the other in order to win, as when two men were out, three onbases and the man at bat had two strikes and three balls. All dependedon one throw.
With a quick motion Joe drew back his arm. There was an intaking ofbreath on the part of the crowd that could be heard even above thecrackling of the flames. All eyes were centered on the young pitcher.
"He'll never do it," murmured Hiram Shell.
"If he does he's a better pitcher than I'll ever be," admitted FrankBrown.
Suddenly Joe threw. The white ball was plainly visible as it sailedthrough the air, unwinding as it mounted upward. On and on it went, Joe,no less than every one in the crowd, watching it with eager eyes. And asfor the man on the tower he eagerly stretched out his hands to catch theball of cord, on which his life now depended.
THE WHITE BALL WAS PLAINLY VISIBLE AS IT SAILED THROUGHTHE AIR.]
Straight and true it went, as swift and as direct a ball as BaseballJoe had ever delivered. Straight and true--on and on and then----
Into the hands of the anxiously waiting man went the ball of cord.Eagerly he clutched it, while the crowd set up a great cheer.
"That's the stuff!" yelled a man in Joe's ear. "You sure are one goodpitcher, my boy!"
"Never mind about that now," said the practical Joe. "Fasten on therope. Quick!"
Willing hands did this, and Joe looked to see if the knot would notslip. He seemed to have assumed charge of the rescue operations.
"Haul up!" he yelled to the man through the newspaper megaphone. "Haulup the rope and make it fast. Then, when I give the signal, slide down."
The man waved his hands to show that he understood, and the next momenthe began pulling on the cord. The rope followed. Quickly it uncoiledfrom where the strands had been piled in readiness for just this. Up andup the man on the tower pulled it until he held the end of the heavyrope in his hands.
There now extended from the tower to the ground a slanting pathway ofrope, such as is sometimes seen leading down into a stone quarry. It washigh enough above the flames to enable a man to swing himself alongabove them, though doubtless he would have to pass over a zone of fierceheat.
"All ready! Come on down!" yelled Joe, and the man on the tower lost notime in obeying.
He let go the rope as his feet touched the earth and then with a groanhe collapsed. The crowd closed in around him, and two minutes later thetower, with a crash, toppled into the midst of the seething furnace offire. The rescue had been made none too soon.
"Don't crowd around him so!" shouted Joe, hurrying over to where the manlay.
He pushed his way into the throng, followed by Tom, and the two ladsactually forced the men and boys away from the man, who had evidentlyfainted. Joe whipped off his coat and made a pillow for the sufferer'shead.
As he bent over him, the man's face was illuminated by the glare fromthe burning factory, and our hero started back in astonishment.
"Isaac Benjamin!" he exclaimed, as he recognized the former manager ofthe Royal Harvester works where Mr. Matson had been employed. IsaacBenjamin, the man who, with Mr. Rufus Holdney, had conspired to ruinJoe's father by getting his patents away from him.
"Isaac Benjamin!" said Joe again.
Mr. Benjamin opened his eyes. Into them came the light of recognition ashe gazed into Joe's face. He struggled to a sitting position.
"Joe--Joe Matson!" he murmured. "I--I hope your father will forgive me.I--I----"
"There, don't think of that now," said Joe gently. "Are you hurt?"
"No--nothing of any consequence. I'm not even burned, thanks to you. Iclimbed up into the tower when I found the place on fire. I--I--Joe, canyou ever forgive me for trying to ruin your father?"
"Yes, of course. But don't talk of that now," Joe said, while the crowdlooked on and wondered at the man and boy knowing each other--wonderedat their strange talk.
"I--I must talk of that now--more--more danger threatens your father,Joe."
Joe thought perhaps the man might be in a delirium of fright, and hedecided it would be best to humor him.
"That's all right," he said soothingly. "You'll be taken care of. We'vesent for a doctor. How did you come to be in the old factory?"
"I--I was sleeping there, Joe." Mr. Benjamin's tones did not indicate araving mind.
"Sleeping there?" There was surprise in the boy's voice.
"Yes, Joe, I'm down and out. I've lost all my money, my friends havegone back on me--though it's my own fault--I have lost my home--myposition--everything. I'm an outcast--a tramp--that's why I was sleepingthere. There were some other tramps. They were smoking--I guess that'show the fire started. They got away but I couldn't."
The man's voice was excited now, and Joe tried to calm him. But Mr.Benjamin continued.
"Wait, Joe, I have something to tell you--something important--a warningto give you. If we--can we talk in private?"
"Yes, later, when you are stronger," answered the lad soothingly.
"Then it may be too late," went on Mr. Benjamin. "I am strong enoughnow. It was just a passing faintness. I--I am weak--haven't had much toeat--I'm hungry. But no matter. Here, come over here, I'll tell you."
He struggled to his feet with Joe's aid and led the lad aside from thecrowd, which parted to make way for them.
"I'm down and out, Joe. Money and friends all gone."
"What about Mr. Holdney?"
"He too, has deserted me--turned against me, though I helped him in manyschemes. I'm nothing but a tramp now, Joe."
The young pitcher looked at the wreck of the man before him. Truly hewas "down and out." His once fine and well-dressed appearance had givenplace to a slouchy attire.
"But I must tell you, Joe. Your father's patent rights are again indanger. Rufus Holdney is going to try to get some valuable papers andmodels away from him. That's what he and I quarreled over. I'd doanything to spoil his plans, after he has thrown me off as he has. Ileft him, and since then I have had only bad luck. I don't know how Icame to come here. I didn't know you were here. But warn your father,Joe, to look well after his new patents. Warn him before it is toolate."
"I will," promised Joe. "I will. Thank you for telling me. Now we mustlook after you." And indeed it was high time, for, as the young pitcherspoke Mr. Benjamin tottered and would have fallen had not our herocaught him.
"Quick, get a doctor!" cried Joe, as the crowd surged up again aroundthe unfortunate man, who had fainted.
Baseball Joe on the School Nine; or, Pitching for the Blue Banner Page 20