Baseball Joe Around the World; or, Pitching on a Grand Tour
Page 29
CHAPTER XXIX
THE RUINED CASTLE
With London as their center the teams made flying trips to Edinburg,Glasgow and Dublin. In all three places they received a royal welcome, forthe fame of that great game in London had spread throughout the nation andall were eager to see the hero of that occasion.
Under other circumstances Joe would have been jubilant, for he was at thevery height of his reputation, the girl he loved was with him, as well ashis only sister and his closest friend, but ever in his thoughts like thespectre at the feast was that matter of the signed contract--theabominable thing that smirched his reputation and branded him to the worldas false to his word and bond.
Again and again he sought to find the key to the mystery. It seemed likesome monstrous jugglery, something akin to the fakir's tricks that he hadwitnessed at Colombo where the impossible had seemed so clearly possible.
Try as he would he could find no explanation of the puzzle and his friendswere equally powerless to suggest a solution.
The game at Dublin, which commenced auspiciously for the Giants, wasturned into a rout by a rally of the All-Americans in the ninth. A rain ofbingles came from their bats and they won easily with six runs to spare.
"Got it in the neck that time, old man," said Joe to Jim, after the game."But we can't always win. What do you say to getting a buzz wagon andtaking a little spin out into the country? The girls will be getting readyfor that reception at the Viceroy's castle, and they'll be too busydolling up to care what becomes of us."
"Good idea," said Jim, and the two friends made their way to a publicgarage, secured a good car together with a driver, and whirled away intothe open country.
They had made perhaps twenty miles through the beautiful Irish scenerywhen Joe called Jim's attention to a cloud bank forming in the west.
"Better skip back, old man," he said. "We're due for a wetting if wedon't."
"Plenty of time yet," objected Jim. "Those look to me just like windclouds. Let's see a little bit more of Ireland."
They went on perhaps five miles further and then Jim found that hisconfidence was misplaced. The clouds grew blacker, an ominous mutteringwas heard in the sky and a jagged flash of lightning presaged the comingstorm.
"You see I was right," said Joe. "In this open car we'll be drenched tothe skin. Turn around, Mike," he said to the driver, "and let's see howfast this old boat of yours can travel in getting back to Dublin. Throwher into high and give her all you've got."
The driver obeyed and the car fairly purred as it sped back toward thecity. But fast as it was, the storm was faster. Great raindrops pattereddown, and they looked anxiously about for shelter.
"What's that place up there, Mike?" asked Jim, pointing to a ramblingstone structure on an elevation perhaps a hundred yards from the road.
"'Tis the castle o' the last o' the O'Brian's, hivin rist his sowl,"replied Mike. "But they do be sayin' the place is hanted, an' 'tis a braveman that would be shteppin' inside the dhure."
"I'm a brave man, then," cried Jim. "For I'll face a dozen ghosts before Iwould this storm. Turn in, Mike, and we'll wait there till the rain isover."
With a muttered protest Mike did as directed, and a moment later the youngmen stepped jauntily through the ruined portal, while Mike, shocked attheir temerity, crossed himself and, throwing an oilskin over his head,crouched low in his seat, preferring the discomfort of the open to theunknown terrors that might lurk beyond the doorway of the ruined castle.
The friends had scarcely stepped inside before the rain came down intorrents.
"Lucky we got here just as we did," remarked Joe, as they leaned upagainst the masonry of the ruined hall and looked out at the cloudburst.
"It surely was," agreed Jim. "I wish we had a little more light. It's asdark as Egypt in here."
"I've got my pocket flashlight with me," said Joe, reaching toward his hippocket. "But listen, what's that?"
"I didn't hear anything," returned Jim, a little nervously, it must beadmitted.
The two ball players kept perfectly still for a minute and heard whatseemed to be the murmur of voices a room or two away.
"Can it be that the last of the O'Brians is rambling about the castle?"whispered Jim, with a feeble attempt at raillery.
"More likely some travelers stormbound like ourselves," returned Joepractically. "Let's take a squint at them."
They tiptoed their way through the hall to a room opening on the right.The door, half broken from its hinges, was standing open, and in thedarkness they saw the tips of two lighted cigars.
As this was not at all ghostly and they did not care to intrude, they wereabout to retire as softly as they had come, when Joe was startled byhearing his own name. Jim's hand shot out and clenched his friend's arm,and they stood there like statues.
"That was a slick trick you put over on Matson," said a voice which Joerecognized instantly as belonging to Beckworth Fleming. He had heard thatvoice before when he had made its owner kneel in the dirt of the road andbeg Mabel's pardon for his insolence.
"I think myself it was rather clever," drawled another familiar voice,that of Braxton. "He fell for it like a lamb."
"He's a pretty keen chap usually, too," remarked Fleming. "How is it youcaught him napping?"
"I picked out just the right time," said Braxton complacently. "And Idon't deny that luck helped me a little. If McRae and Barclay hadn't goneaway just the time they did, it might not have worked. But I got himtalking about handwriting, and the first thing you know he'd scribbled hisname on the blank sheet. I took good care that only the bottom of thesheet was where he could reach it. Then I slipped the paper into mypocket, sent it to you to have the contract printed above the signature,and you know the rest."
"Easy meat," chuckled Fleming.
"Too easy," chortled Braxton. "It makes me laugh every time I think ofit."
Joe stepped into the room, followed by Jim.
"I do a little laughing myself sometimes," Joe said coldly. "And this isone of the times!"