CHAPTER VIII
THE HIDDEN-BALL TRICK
"Oh, I wouldn't tell Jim!" exclaimed Mabel, in alarm. "In the firstplace, we're not clear enough about what Clara means to do. Perhaps itwon't amount to anything after all. And if it does, it'll be bad enoughwhen it comes without our doing anything to hasten it."
"I can't understand it," said Joe, gloomily. "There never seemedto be two people more perfectly made for each other than Jim andClara--always excepting ourselves," he hastened to add, as he pressedher hand--"and it will be one of the greatest blows of my life if thereshould be any break between them. Clara seemed to be dead in love withJim; and as for him, he fairly worships the ground she walks on. Whenhe gets one of her letters, he's dead to the world. And he's one ofthe finest fellows that ever breathed. I look on him as a brother. Hehasn't any bad habits, is as straight as a string, a splendid specimenof manhood, handsome, well educated--what on earth could any girl askfor more? And he's making a splendid income too. Has Clara suddenlygone crazy?"
"It's beyond me," replied Mabel. "Clara is the dearest girl, but justnow I'd like to give her a good shaking. Lots of girls of course aredazzled by millions, but I never believed Clara would be one of them.And perhaps she isn't, Joe dear. We may be doing her a great injustice.We'll have to wait and see."
"Well, promise me, anyway, that you'll write to her at once," urgedJoe. "I'd do it myself, but you girls can talk to each other aboutsuch things a good deal better than any man can. Try to bring her toher senses and urge her not to wreck her own life and Jim's simply formoney or social position. She'd only be gaining the shadow of happinessand losing the substance."
"I'll write to-morrow," promised Mabel. "But now let's dismiss allunpleasant thoughts and remember only that we're together."
While Joe was desperate at the injury to his foot that kept him out ofthe game just at a time he was sorely needed by his team, he found somecompensation in the fact that he could spend more time with Mabel thanwould otherwise have been possible. He did not have to take part inthe morning practice, and in the afternoons he and Mabel attended thegames together as spectators.
On the other hand, Mabel was deeply disappointed that she could notsee Joe pitch, as she had joyously counted on doing. She was intenselyproud of her famous young husband, and was always one of the mostenthusiastic rooters when he was scheduled to take his turn in thebox. More than once Joe had won some critical game because of theinspiration that came to him from the knowledge that Mabel was lookingon. But there was no use murmuring against fate, and they had totake things as they were, promising themselves to make up for theirdisappointment later in the season.
Reggie, too, felt that fate had treated him unfairly.
"Why, to tell the bally truth, old topper," he declaimed to Joe, "Ididn't have to come to Chicago at all, don't you know! I just drummedup the excuse that I ought to look over our branch in this city, andthe guv'nor fell for it. It's rippin', simply rippin', the way you'vebeen pitchin' and battin' ever since the season opened, and I'd beencountin' on seem' you stand the blighters on their heads. And just whenI got here, the old leg had to go bad! It's disgustin'!"
"Hard luck, old boy," laughed Joe. "But you'll see many a game yetthrough that blessed monocle of yours. If you feel sore, think howmuch sorer I am and take comfort."
The crowning disgrace of having the Cubs take four games in a row washappily spared the Giants. McRae put in Jim again, and this time theteam gave him better support and he pulled out a victory.
"Great stuff, old man," congratulated Joe, as Jim, after the game, cameup to the box in which Joe and Mabel were sitting.
"You pitched beautifully, Jim," was Mabel's tribute, as she smiled uponhim.
"Awfully nice of you to say so," responded Jim, in a sort of lifelessway. "But most of the credit was due to the team. They played good ballto-day. Guess I'll go and dress now and see you later."
Joe and Mabel looked at each other, as Jim stalked away across thediamond to the clubhouse.
"Doesn't seem very responsive, does he?" remarked Mabel.
"No, he doesn't," said Joe thoughtfully. "Generally he's bubbling overwith enthusiasm after the Giants have won. He's been very quiet sinceour talk last night."
"Do you think he suspected there was anything wrong?" asked Mabel,anxiously.
"I shouldn't wonder," answered Joe somberly. "He's quick as a flash tosense anything, and I noticed a shadow on his face as he watched youwhen we were talking about Clara. Hang it all!" he burst out, with avehemence that startled Mabel. "If Clara throws him down, I'll neverforgive her, even if she is my sister. What's the matter with the girlsnowadays, anyway? Haven't they any sense?"
"Some of them have," answered Mabel. "Myself, for instance. That's thereason I married you, Joe dear."
"For which heaven be thanked," responded Joe, with a fervor that leftnothing for Mabel to desire. "I'm the luckiest fellow on earth. Andjust because I am so happy, I want Jim to be happy too.
"Then, there's another thing," he went on, "which, while it'sinfinitely less important than Jim's happiness, is important, just thesame. That is the effect it will have on the chances of the Giants. Wenever needed men to be in shape to do their best work as much as weneed them now. And the most important men on any team are the pitchers.I'm not saying that because I'm a pitcher, but because it's a simplefact that every one knows. Let the pitchers go wrong, and the best teamon earth can't win. And a pitcher that has a load of trouble on hismind can't do his best work. How do you suppose Jim can keep up to hisstandard if Clara does her best to break his heart?"
"I suppose that's true," assented Mabel. "And yet I thought he pitchedwell to-day."
"He doesn't know all we know," replied Joe. "He just has a suspicion,and he's trying to assure himself that it's groundless. But even atthat, he wasn't in his usual form this afternoon. You may not havenoticed it, but I did. He got by because the boys played well behindhim and because the Cubs let down and played indifferent ball. But hewasn't the old Jim. Already that thing is beginning to work on him.And if the worst happens, it will break him all up--at least, for thepresent season. If I had that sister of mine here this afternoon, I'llbet she'd hear something that would make her ears burn."
Mabel soothed him as best she could, but her own heart was heavy as shethought of the possibilities that the future held in store for poor Jim.
From Chicago the Giants went to St. Louis, the last stop on theirWestern schedule. Here they had some hopes of redeeming themselves andmaking up for their recent failures, for the Cardinals were going nonetoo well. Mornsby, their famous shortstop, had had a quarrel with themanager, and was seeking to get his release to some other team, any oneof which would have snapped him up at a fabulous price. There wererumors of cliques in the team, and their prospects for the season werenone too flattering.
But no matter how poorly a team had been going, they always seemed tobrace up when they were to meet the Giants. They reserved their bestpitchers for those games, and the fans came out in droves in order tosee the proud team of the Metropolis humbled.
So the clean sweep that the Giants had been hoping for did notmaterialize. Markwith, to be sure, carried off the first game by acomfortable margin. He was one of the pitchers who when he was goodwas very good indeed, and on that day his southpaw slants were simplyunhittable.
But the St. Louis evened things up the next day by beating Bradley, oneof the Giants' second string pitchers, by a score of eight to five. Onthe following day, the pendulum swung again to the other side of thearc, and Jim chalked up a victory, despite some pretty free hitting bythe home team.
The Giants pinned their hopes once again to Markwith in the last gameof the series. He was not so good as on the opening day, but even thenhe might have won, had it not been for a stupid play by Iredell in theninth inning.
One man was out in the Giants' last half. The score was seven to sixin favor of St. Louis. Iredell had reached first on a single, and ona wild pitch had advanced to seco
nd. Burkett, the heavy hitting firstbaseman, was at the bat. A hit would probably bring Iredell in and tiethe score.
Iredell was taking a pretty long lead off second and "Red" Smith, theCardinal catcher, shot the ball down to second, hoping to catch himnapping. Iredell, however, made a quick slide back to the bag and gotthere before Salberg, the Cardinal second baseman, could put the ballon him.
Iredell got up, grinned triumphantly at Salberg, dusted off hisclothes, and again took a lead off the bag. Quick as a flash, Salberg,who had concealed the ball under his arm, ran up to Iredell and touchedhim out.
A groan of distress came from the Giants and their supporters and aroar of derision from the St. Louis crowd. That a big-league playercould be caught by a trick that was as old as the hills seemed almostincredible. It was years since the moth-eaten play had been seen on amajor-league diamond, and the crowd yelled itself hoarse.
Iredell stood for a moment as if stupefied, then he walked slowly intothe bench, his face a flaming red. If McRae forebore to tell him whathe thought of him, it was because he was so choked that the words wouldnot come. But the glare that he turned on the luckless player was moreeloquent than any words, even in his rich vocabulary.
Joe turned to Mabel, where he was sitting beside her in the standsimmediately back of the pitcher.
"Did you see that?" he asked. "To think of a Giant player being caughtby a sand-lot trick!"
"I didn't quite get it," answered Mabel. "I was looking at the batterat the time. Just what was it that happened?"
"Salberg hid the ball under his arm instead of throwing it back tothe pitcher," explained Joe. "Iredell took it for granted that he hadthrown it, and was so busy dusting off his clothes that he didn't makesure of it. Why, Shem tried that on Japhet when they came out of theark. And to think that he chose this moment to pull that bonehead play!Look at that hit by Burkett. It would have brought Iredell home withthe run which would have tied the score."
Their eyes followed the flight of the ball, which was a mightythree-bagger that Burkett had lined out between right and center. Itbrought a rousing cheer from the Giant partisans, and hope revived thatthe game might yet be saved. But the hope was vain, for the fly thatWheeler sent out into the field settled firmly in the leftfielder'shand, and the inning and the game were over, with the St. Louis havingthe big end of the score.
It was a hard game to lose, and it was a disgruntled lot of Giantplayers that filed off dejectedly to their dressing rooms. A sure tie,at least, had been within their grasp, and, as a matter of fact, aprobable victory. For if Iredell had scored, as he could easily havedone on the three base hit of Burkett, the latter would have been onthird with only one man out instead of two and with the score tied.Then Wheeler's long hit, even though an out, would have gone for asacrifice and Burkett could easily have scored from third, putting theGiants one run ahead. To be sure, the St. Louis would still have hadthe last half of the ninth, but the Giants, fighting to hold theiradvantage, would have had all the odds in their favor.
But all the post mortems in the world could not change the fact thatthe game had gone into the St. Louis column and that the Giants,instead of taking three out of four, had had to be content with an evenbreak. It was small consolation that that was better than they had beenable to do with the other Western teams. The trip had been a terribleflivver, one of the worst that the Giant team had ever made whileswinging around the circle.
"That's the last straw that breaks the camel's back," growled McRae,savagely. "It'll make us the laughing stock of the League. Why, atthis minute, the crowds before the bulletin boards all over the UnitedStates are snickering at the Giants. Not merely a Giant player--thatwould be bad enough--but the Giant captain--get me?--the Giant captain,supposed to show his men how the game should be played, gets caught bythe oldest and cheapest trick in the game. It's all we needed to windup this trip. I want to go away somewhere and hide my head. I hate togo back and face the grins of the New York fans."
"It sure is tough," agreed Robbie. "Of course that finishes Iredell ascaptain."
"That goes without saying," replied McRae. "Even if I were disposed tooverlook it and give him another chance, I couldn't do it now. When acaptain, instead of being respected by his men, becomes the butt of theteam and a joke to the fans all over the circuit, he's through."
A little later the stocky manager sought out Iredell and found himalone.
"I know what you want to see me about," Iredell forestalled him. "Youwant my resignation as captain of the team. Well, here it is," and hehanded over a paper.
"All right, Iredell," returned McRae, after he had scanned the papercarefully and stowed it away in his pocket. "I'll accept this, and Iwon't say anything more about that play, because I know how sore you'refeeling and I don't want to rub it in. I'll admit that at the time ithappened, I saw red. But what's past is past, and there's no use cryingabout spilled milk."
"You can have my resignation as shortstop too, if you want it," growledIredell, who was evidently in a nasty humor.
"I don't want it," said McRae, kindly. "You're a good shortstop, andI've no fault to find with your work as such. And now that you've gotnothing to think about except playing your position, I hope you'll dobetter than ever. One thing I'm counting on, too, is that you cherishno grudges and give full loyalty to the man I'm going to make captain.Is that a go?"
Iredell grunted something that McRae chose to accept as an affirmative.But he would have changed his opinion if he had seen the ugly glarein Iredell's eyes and the clenched fist that Iredell shook at themanager's back as the latter walked away.
"Give me a dirty deal and expect me to take it lying down, do you?" hesnarled. "You've got another guess coming, and don't you forget it!"
Baseball Joe, Captain of the Team; or, Bitter Struggles on the Diamond Page 8