CHAPTER XXIV
GETTING A CONFESSION
"It cuts me to the heart, Jim," said Joe, with deep feeling, laying hishand affectionately on his chum's arm. "I can't tell you how sick Ifeel about the whole thing. Nothing that affects you can fail to affectme. You know that, don't you, Jim?"
"Of course I do, Joe. You've been a brother to me ever since I joinedthe Giants. Whatever success I've had in my work has been due to yourkindness, your teaching, your encouragement. Don't think I'll everforget it. I shouldn't have burst out the way I did, but you can't knowthe misery I've endured in the last few weeks. It was bad enough whenI only had a vague suspicion that things weren't right. Now it seemsmore than I can stand. It's hard, Joe, to see your house of cards cometumbling to the ground."
"I know it is, Jim," replied Joe, with warm sympathy. "But take it fromme, Jim, your house hasn't fallen yet. I'm sure that Clara is trueblue at heart, and that no matter how things look, there must be someexplanation that will clear up everything."
"I hope so," said Jim, though there was not much hopefulness in histone. "I've got to know soon or I'll go crazy. You see how this thinghas knocked me out of my stride. I'm not pitching up to my usual form,and you know it."
"I've noticed it, of course," said Joe. "And I've guessed the reason.You've got all the old stuff, all the strength and cunning, but youhaven't been able to use it because of the burden on your mind. Evenat that, though, you've been turning in more victories than the otherfellows."
"Which isn't saying much, the way the team is running now."
"All the more reason for taking a big brace, old boy!" exclaimed Joe,giving him a hearty slap on the shoulder. "Try to throw off yourtroubles and work your head off for the success of the team."
"I'll do it," promised Jim, as he shook his chum's hand to bind thebargain.
"Good," said Joe, heartily. "And promise me one thing, Jim. Don'thint at anything of this in your letters to Clara. Nothing canreally be explained in a letter. Nothing in the world has causedso much estrangement, so much heartache, as trying to arrange amisunderstanding by letter. You can't say just what you want, and whatyou do say is never understood just in the way you want it to be. Waituntil you can see Clara face to face, and I'll bet the whole thing willbe cleared up in five minutes."
"But that will be at the end of the season!" exclaimed Jim, in dismay.
"Not so long as that, I guess," said Joe. "I'm going to see if I can'tby some means get Clara to make a flying visit to New York." He pauseda moment, and his brow clouded with anxiety. Then he resumed: "Ofcourse she can't do it right now because my mother is in too critical acondition. But if the operation turns out all right and she has a goodrecovery, it might be managed. If not, I have something else in mindthat I'll talk to you about later."
To Joe's already overburdened mind was added another worry in the gamewith the Bostons the next afternoon.
Jackwell and Bowen, while they had been affected by the generalslump of the team, had given no evidence of a return of the peculiarnervousness that had marked their actions earlier in the season. ButJoe noticed on that afternoon, the frequent looks at the stand and thepulling of their caps over their faces for which he had before takenthem to task.
Merton was pitching, and Joe was playing in left. In the fourthinning, an easy fly came out to Bowen and he made a miserable muff.Jackwell also made a couple of errors at third. In each case theblunders were costly, as they let in runs.
"What made you drop that fly, Bowen?" Joe asked, as the Giants came infrom the field.
"I lost it in the sun," replied Bowen. "At this time in the year thesun comes over the grandstand in such a way that it's right in my eyes."
"Haven't heard you complain of it before," remarked Joe, dryly. "Forthe rest of this game I'll play center, and you shift over to left."
The change was made accordingly. In the eighth inning another fly cameto Bowen and again he dropped it while the crowd booed. The error letin what proved to be the winning run for the Bostons.
"I want to see you fellows after the game," said Joe, curtly, to thetwo men. "Wait around the clubhouse after the others have gone."
When the clubhouse was finally deserted by all but the three, Joeturned to them sternly.
"I'm fed up with this mystery stuff," he said. "It's got to end righthere. It lost the game for us this afternoon, but it isn't going tolose another. Come across now and make a clean breast of it."
The two men looked at each other uncertainly.
"You heard me," said Joe. "Out with it now, or I'll see that you'refired off the team."
"All right, Mr. Matson," Jackwell spoke up with sudden resolution."I'll tell you just what the trouble is. Ben and I are afraid thatdetectives are after us."
"Detectives!" ejaculated Joe, with a start. "What are they after youfor? What have you been doing?"
"Nothing wrong," declared Jackwell, earnestly, and Bowen echoed him.
"Why should they be after you, then?" asked Joe, with a faint tinge ofskepticism in his tone.
"We got mixed up in a shady business," explained Jackwell, with a lookof misery on his face. "But we didn't know there was anything wrongabout it till it went up with a bang. You see, Mr. Matson, this isthe way it came about. Last winter, Ben and I were rather up againstit--short of ready money. You know what poor salaries they pay in theleague we came from. We were down in Dallas, Texas, and the oil boomwas on. We saw an ad for men to sell oil stocks, and we answered it.The fellow at the head of it--Bromley was his name--was a smooth sortof chap and could talk any one into anything. From his description,we thought his oil well was an honest-to-goodness well, and we solda lot of stock for him. Then came the blow-up, and it turned outthat his well was just a dry hole in the ground. He got out fromunder just before the crash came, and I heard he went to Mexico. Thefederal officers got after him and all connected with it. We heard thatwarrants were out for us, and we skipped North. But until the companybroke we thought they were straight as a string. We wouldn't have hadanything to do with it if we had thought it was crooked. We were justroped into it. That's as true as that we're sitting here this moment.All that either of us got out of it was part of our salaries and partof the commissions that were promised."
Baseball Joe, Captain of the Team; or, Bitter Struggles on the Diamond Page 24