Baseball Joe, Captain of the Team; or, Bitter Struggles on the Diamond

by Lester Chadwick

  CHAPTER XXVI

  OFF HIS STRIDE

  Joe pitched the next day against the Phillies, and won a hard foughtbattle. Atkins, the Philly pitcher, was in capital form, and the gamewas a seesaw affair, first one and then the other getting the lead, andit was not until the ninth inning that the contest was decided.

  Farley, the third baseman of the Quaker team, was a "rough house"player, who never hesitated to transgress the rules of the game,provided that he could get away with it.

  One of his favorite tricks was to grab the belt of an opposing playeras he rounded third base. This was often sufficient to throw the runneroff his stride and slow him up for a second, and in a game wherefractions of a second often marked the difference between a run and anout, the momentary delay many times permitted the ball to get to theplate before the runner.

  He resorted to the same trick also, when the third base was occupied byan opponent and a long fly was hit to the outfield. If the ball wascaught, the runner, of course, had to touch the bag after the catchbefore he started for the plate. Just as he started, Farley would grabhis belt. The umpire's eyes would be on the ball to see if it werecaught, and Farley could do this with impunity.

  It was of little use complaining to the umpire, for that functionary,not having seen the action, could not well punish it. His eyes were hisonly guide in making decisions.

  Twice in this series with the Phillies the Giants had lost in this waywhat would have been sure runs.

  On the day in question, Joe had made a two-bagger and had got to thirdon a fielder's choice. There was but one man out, and the proper playat this juncture was a long sacrifice fly to the outfield.

  Wheeler got the signal and obeyed orders. He sent out a towering flythat settled into the rightfielder's hands. The ball had gone highrather than far, which gave the outfielder a good chance to get it homein time to nail the runner.

  If Joe was to make the plate, he had to get a quick start and do somefast running. The fly was caught, and Joe broke from the bag just asFarley grabbed his belt. But not for a second did Joe slacken speed. Heflew along the base path at a rattling clip and beat the ball to therubber by an eyelash.

  With the roar that went up from the crowd was mingled boisterouslaughter.

  Farley was standing at third with a ludicrous look of bewilderment onhis face, holding in his hand Joe's belt. He did not seem to know whatto do with it, and shifted it from one hand to another as though itwere a hot potato.

  Joe had unfastened it on the sly as he stood at the bag, and whenFarley grabbed it, it came away in his hand without Joe even feelingit. Farley had braced himself for the pull, and the lack of resistancenearly threw him to the ground. He had to stagger some steps before hecould regain his balance.

  Peal after peal of uproarious laughter at Farley's foolish appearancerose from the spectators. If ever there was a case of being "caughtwith the goods," Farley furnished it at that moment.

  And the merriment swelled up anew when Joe walked out to third, andwith his hand on his heart and a ceremonious bow, politely askedMr. Farley to return his property. With his face flaming red frommortification, Farley threw it to him with a scowl and a grunt, and Joewith a tantalizing grin took his time in putting it on.

  "Joe," said McRae, as he shook his hand, "when it comes to outguessingthe other fellow there's nobody in the game that can compare withyou. You spring things that nobody ever thought of before. To-day's aninstance. More power to you, my boy."

  Though the Giants had made an immense improvement over their previousrecent showing, they were still far from the form they had showed ontheir last Western trip. And a great part of this, Joe had to admit tohimself, was due to Jim's indifferent showing.

  It was not that Jim did not try. He was intensely loyal to the team,of which he had been one of the principal supports. But the oldspontaneity was lacking. He had to force himself to his work, whereformerly it had been a joy to him. And no man can do his best workunder those conditions. Twice within the last few weeks he had beenbatted out of the box.

  "Joe," said McRae to his captain, "on the dead level, what is thematter with Jim? He isn't the pitcher he was last season or in theearly part of this. What ails him?"

  "I'll tell you, Mac," replied Joe, who saw the opening he desired. "Jimhas heart trouble."

  "What?" cried McRae, in consternation. "Did a doctor tell him so?"

  "It isn't a case for a doctor," explained Joe. "The only one who cancure Jim's trouble is a certain girl."

  "Oh, that's it!" exclaimed McRae with relief. "The girls! The girls!The mischief they make!"

  "Don't forget you were young once yourself, Mac," said Joe, with agrin. "Now I want to ask you a favor. I have an idea that five minutes'talk with that girl will set things all right. Why not give Jim a fewdays off? I don't ask this simply because Jim is my friend. I think itwill be for the good of the team."

  "We're pretty hard up for pitchers," said McRae, dubiously.

  "I'll double up while he's gone," promised Joe. "I'll pitch his game aswell as my own. I'm as fit as a fiddle."

  "You're always that," answered McRae. "Well, have it your own way," andhe walked away muttering again: "The girls! The girls!"

  "Jim," said Joe, later that afternoon, "how about taking a trainto-morrow afternoon for Riverside?"

  Jim jumped about a foot.

  "Do you mean it?" he cried.

  "Sure thing," replied Joe. "I've fixed it up with Mac."

  "Glory hallelujah!" shouted Jim. "Joe, you're the best ever! Where'sthat suitcase of mine?"