CHAPTER XXVII
FROM BAD TO WORSE
Whatever the drug that Hartley had used, it was of such a nature thatit did not take effect at once. Joe felt in his usual good shape forsome time after he got into his baseball togs. It is true that the ballseemed to feel a little heavier than usual when he was warming up, buthe suspected nothing when the time came for him to go into the box.
The first thing that he noticed was that he did not have his usualcontrol. His curves would not break at the right place, and he could notseem to get them over the plate. Then too, his speed was missing. Hecalled on all his resources, but the ball sailed up to the plate as "bigas a balloon."
The Phillies were quick to notice that something was wrong with that"wing" of Matson's, which in previous games they had learned to respect.Before the first inning was over, they had lined out two slashing hitswhich, with three bases on balls, netted them three runs to start with.
"What's the matter, Matson?" asked McRae, as the Giants came in to bat.
"Oh, I'm all right, I guess," answered Joe. "I'll steady down in thenext inning. I guess I didn't warm up enough."
The Giants were quickly disposed of for a goose egg and Joe again tookhis place on the mound. He walked out to it a little unsteadily, a factthat McRae's keen eyes were quick to notice.
"If that were anybody else than Matson, I'd say he'd been drinking," heremarked to Robson.
"Nothing like that," replied Robson. "We'll see how he makes out thistime."
But the very first ball he sent over, Cravath, the chief slugger of thePhillies, knocked clear over the right field fence for a home run.
A fusillade of hits followed until the bases were full.
"Look here, Matson," said McRae, sharply, walking over to him. "What'sthe matter with you? They've put the game on ice already. Take a brace,man."
Shouts of derision came from the Phillies' bench.
"He hasn't anything on the ball but his glove!" one of them jeered.
"It's a shame to take the money!" yelled another.
"All aboard for the airship!" cried a third.
A flush of humiliation passed over Joe's face.
He could see that Robson was hurrying a couple of the second stringpitchers out into a corner of the field to warm up. It was a newexperience for him and a bitter one.
"I'll get them yet," he said to McRae, and the latter noticed that hisvoice was thick. "Let me play the inning out."
"Play ball!" called the umpire, and McRae walked back to the coachingline. Joe made a mighty effort, but the first ball he pitched was sentinto left on a line, and the three men on bases scampered home.
"That's enough," cried McRae sharply, while the rejoicing Phillies helda jubilee at their bench. "Take off your glove and go to the clubhouse."
Joe took off his glove and with his face scarlet walked unsteadily offthe field. He had been batted out of the box in one of the crucial gamesof the season. What would his folks say when they read of it? What wouldMabel say?
By this time his head was throbbing, and every bone had its ownparticular ache. The shower brightened him up a little, but in a fewminutes he was worse than ever, and it was all he could do to get to hishotel. There he stumbled and would have fallen if it had not been forone of the attendants. He took him to his room, where he lay down uponthe bed and fell into a stupor. There Jim found him when he returnedand immediately called a physician. Together they worked over him untilafter a couple of hours the effects of the drug had been counteracted toa large extent, and although weak and white he began to feel more likehis natural self.
"What on earth could have been the matter, Joe?" asked Jim. "Could ithave been a case of ptomaine poisoning? All the doctor was sure of wasthat it was a drug or poison of some kind. What have you been eating?"
"Nothing out of the ordinary," answered Joe. "In fact I just had acouple of sandwiches and an omelet for lunch. And coffee," he added, andthen as a sudden thought struck him he sat up straight in bed.
"I had some coffee with Bugs Hartley," he added, slowly. "And it wasBugs that put the cream and sugar in both cups."
They looked at each other for a full minute without speaking.
"I see a great light," said Jim at last. "The first thing I shall do isto hunt up Hartley and thrash him within an inch of his life."
"No, don't do that," said Joe, earnestly. "We haven't positive proof,and it'll only bring scandal on the game. I'll be as well as ever in aday or two. The worst of it is that I'm afraid McRae thought I had beendrinking."
"He must know better than that," replied Jim, indignantly. "But just tomake sure I'll give him a quiet tip as to the real state of things."
"I certainly felt sore to be batted out of the box," said Joe, histhoughts reverting to the game. "What was the score, anyway?"
Jim hesitated a second.
"Fifteen to three," he got out at last. Joe's face lengthened.
"That was a massacre sure enough," he groaned. "The biggest score anyteam has rolled up against us this season. Who went in after I was takenout?"
"Markwith," answered Jim. "But he couldn't do a thing with them. Theysimply slammed him to all corners of the lot. But by that time the gamewas gone anyway, and McRae just let him stay in and take his medicine."
"And how did the Chicagos make out today?" asked Joe.
"They trimmed the Pittsburghs, four to three," replied Jim. "Thosefellows seem to have taken a new lease of life. A little while ago wewere ten games ahead of them. Now they're only six games behind andcoming fast."
"Their pitchers are working well too," commented Joe. "You notice thatthey're holding down their opponents to mighty small scores and they'rehanding out quite a few shut-outs. We've got our work cut out for us ifwe want to beat those birds."
"And we'll have to do it in a hurry, too," said Jim. "The season'spretty near an end. It's a case of now or never."
Baseball Joe on the Giants; or, Making Good as a Ball Twirler in the Metropolis Page 27
