Baseball Joe on the Giants; or, Making Good as a Ball Twirler in the Metropolis

by Lester Chadwick

  CHAPTER XXII

  A HOT CAMPAIGN

  "Well, Joe, the Giants trimmed the Braves good and proper," chuckledJim, for the twentieth time referring to the thing that loomed largestin the minds of both.

  "We certainly did, but we must remember that 'one swallow doesn't makea summer!'" answered Joe. "We'll have our own scalps taken many a timebefore the season's over. As it was, we had a mighty close call. Those'cast-offs,' as they call them, played like champions, and perhapsHughson was right when he said that they were the ones we would have tolook out for."

  "Perhaps so," assented Jim. "But I'm rather sweet on Chicago for therunner-up. I see by the bulletin board that they whipped Cincinnati bytwelve to three. Those fellows are terrors with the stick. You'll haveto do your prettiest when you stack up against them, Joe."

  "None of the teams are going to be easy meat," was the answer. "They'rebetter balanced than they've been for several years. There isn't one ofthem that can't be figured to have a chance."

  "That's the way I like to see them," declared Jim. "There's no fun inhaving one or two teams out in the lead so far that there's no chance ofthe others catching up."

  "I wonder whether that trouble with his knee is going to lay Hughsonup," remarked Joe, after they had taken their seats in the elevatedtrain and were being whirled to their hotel downtown. "It would be apretty serious thing for the nine if he were out of the running. He'sthe backbone of the team."

  "I don't think it's going to be anything serious," said Jim. "Ioverheard Farley, the trainer, telling McRae that Hughson would be aswell as ever in a week."

  "I suppose Markwith will go in tomorrow," remarked Joe.

  "Quite likely," assented Jim. "Although those Bostons just eat upleft-handed pitching. I shouldn't wonder if McRae would put you inagain. You only pitched one inning and I don't suppose that has tiredyou much."

  "Not a bit," replied Joe. "Still, I think that Bugs Hartley is morelikely to be called on. He warmed up well in practice before the gameand seems to be in prime condition. Besides, he might feel slighted ifMcRae doesn't start him. He seemed sore when I was called on today."

  "Did you notice that, too?" asked Jim. "I thought he acted mighty queerin the clubhouse this afternoon. All of the other fellows were tickledto death that we won, but Hartley seemed to have a grouch on. You don'tsuppose he's small enough to grudge you your victory, do you?"

  "I should hope not," answered Joe. "I don't see why he should. I've goneout of my way to be pleasant to him. He's an odd fellow, but he's amighty good pitcher, and I wish him all the luck in the world."

  "Bugs" Hartley, as he had been dubbed on account of his erratic ways,had been on the Giant team for two seasons. As long as he took careof himself, he ranked among the best pitchers of the league. But hehad a weakness for liquor and other forms of dissipation, and McRaehad been sorely tried in his attempts to keep him within the bounds ofdiscipline. Several times Hartley had left the team in the lurch bygoing off on sprees just when they most needed his services. But he hadpleaded so eagerly for another chance, when threatened with dismissal,that McRae, though with many misgivings, had kept him on his staff inthe hope that he might ultimately reform him.

  He had an intensely jealous nature and had been much disgruntled whenthe deal had been put through that had brought Joe to the Giants. Hefigured that now McRae would feel so strong in the box that he would bemore ready to dispense with his own services the next time he shouldkick over the traces. And the triumph of the newcomer that afternoon ofthe first game had been gall and wormwood to Hartley.

  "I wonder when I'm going to get my chance or whether I'm going to getany chance at all," mused Jim.

  "You'll get your chance in good time all right," declared Joe,confidently. "You're a fixture on the team. Don't worry about that."

  "I'm not a bit sure of that," said Jim, dubiously. "McRae hasn't toldme so yet, and perhaps my head will fall into the basket when the timecomes for him to reduce the team to the twenty-two man limit."

  "I've had a straight tip from Hughson that McRae means to keep you,"said Joe. "So make your mind easy on that score. As for your chance toplay, you'll have to be patient. You may have to sit on the bench for awhile, but then again you may be in harness in a month. The only thingto do is to go ahead with your practice for all that you're worth andsaw wood."

  The campaign that opened that day at the Polo Grounds proved to be ahot one. During the first three weeks the Eastern clubs played amongthemselves, and the Western clubs did the same. Following the Bravesat the Polo Grounds came the Phillies and the Brooklyn Superbas, andthen the Giants in their turn visited the grounds of their opponents.The games were bitterly contested, for this year the Eastern teams werescheduled to go West before the Westerners invaded the East, and eachwas eager to start on the trip with a substantial lead already gained.It was nip and tuck, with now one team, now another at the head of thecolumn, but the net result was that when the teams took the train forthe West the Giants were in the lead by a narrow margin of only half agame over the Phillies, while the other two were bunched close up.

  "I'm glad anyway that we make the first trip West instead of it beingthe other way," remarked Joe to Jim, as they dropped into their seatsin the Pullman that was to take them to St. Louis, where they were toopen. "We'll have the big advantage of winding up the season on our owngrounds, and in a close race such as this promises to be, that may makeall the difference in the world."

  "Right you are," answered Jim. "And here's hoping that our last game atthe Polo Grounds may end like the first--in victory."