CHAPTER VII
STEALING HOME
Willis was first to the bat, and he strode to the plate with blood inhis eye. He was still smarting from the sharp words of the manager andwas anxious for a chance to redeem himself. A hit would help to wipeout the memory of his error.
The first ball was an outshoot that just cut the corner of the plate.Willis struck at it and missed. The next one was a straight ball aboutknee high. Willis gave it a resounding clout, and it soared out towardthe flagpole in left field.
Willis was off with the crack of the bat, footing it down to first,while a roar went up from the stands. It looked like a sure home run,and it was clear that the Boston left fielder could not get under it.The runner was well on his way to second before the ball touched theground.
"Foul ball!" called the umpire.
There was a groan from the Giant rooters, and Robbie rushed from thedugout to protest. The umpire coldly waved him off.
"I said foul and that settles it," he declared, at the same time wavingto Willis to come back to the plate.
It was a very disgruntled Willis that complied, and he took up his batmumbling something about "blind" and "robber."
"What's that?" asked the umpire sharply.
"Nothing," growled Willis, as he squared himself to meet the next ball.It was a bad one, and he let it go by. The next suited him, and he senta sizzling grounder between second and third, on which he might havemade a double, had he been quicker on his feet. But he was of the "icewagon" type and had to be content with a single.
Still it was a hit, and it put all the Giants on their toes in aninstant. Their coachers at first and third began a chattering designedto rattle the pitcher. McRae hustled Denton out of the dugout withdirections to sacrifice. The latter did his best, but Albaugh pouncedon the ball and shot it to second, putting Willis out. Douglas whippedthe ball to first in an endeavor to complete a double play, but Dentonbeat the ball by a step.
With one man out and the tail end of the Giant batting order coming upthe outlook was decidedly gloomy. Hope revived, however, when Allenlaced a single to left. It was a clean hit, but Mitchell ran in on itand fielded so smartly that Denton was held at second.
With two men on bases, Joe came to the bat, while the great throng gavehim an ovation.
"Win your own game, Matson," was shouted at him from thousands ofthroats.
"Give the ball a ride!"
"Another homer, Joe!"
"Give the ball a passport and send it out of the country!"
These and other encouraging cries greeted Joe as he waited for theball. Albaugh looked at him with some apprehension. His respect for himas a batter had grown considerably since the beginning of the game.
Joe refused to offer at the first ball, which was high and wide. Menkencaught it and instead of returning it to the pitcher shot it down tosecond. Denton had taken too long a lead off the base and was trapped.His first impulse was to slide back to the bag, but he saw that hewas too late for that and set out for third. The whole Boston infieldjoined in running him down, and despite his doubling and twisting, hewas run down and put out near third. During the fracas, Allen reachedsecond, but this was poor consolation, for now two men were out.
Albaugh grinned as he picked up the ball and stepped on the mound.Baseball Joe resolved to knock that grin off his face.
The ball came toward the plate like a bullet. Joe timed it perfectly,and poled a tremendous hit out toward center.
"A homer! A homer!" yelled the crowd, wild with excitement.
By the time Allen had galloped over the plate, Joe had rounded second,running like a frightened jackrabbit. But in the meantime, Mitchell, bya herculean effort, had managed to knock down the ball, after it hadstruck the ground and was speeding toward the fence. He straightenedup and threw it in a line to third. It came plump into the waitinghands of the guardian of the bag. But Joe had already pulled up there,panting a little, but with his heart full of exultation.
"Jumping Jehoshaphat, how that boy can hit!" cried McRae, while Joe'scomrades jigged about and threw their caps into the air.
"As pretty a three-bagger as I ever saw," declared Robson. "That tiesthe score anyway. Now if Mylert can only bring him in, the game's ours."
Albaugh, though sore and enraged, still maintained perfect control ofthe ball. Twice in succession he sent it whizzing over the plate, andtwice Mylert missed it by inches. Perhaps he was too anxious, but itwas evident that his batting eye was off.
Albaugh sensed this, and felt so sure of his victim that he paidlittle attention to third. Suddenly, as Albaugh began to wind up forhis pitch, Joe darted down the line for the plate. A warning cry fromMenken and a roar from the crowd told Albaugh what was happening. Hestopped his windup and threw to Menken, who was covering the rubber andyelling to him to throw. He threw high in his excitement. Menken caughtthe ball and bent down, just as Joe slid over the plate in a cloud ofdust. Menken dabbed frantically at him, and they rolled on the groundtogether.
"Safe!" cried the umpire.
The game was won and the Giants had "got the jump."
The crowd went mad. By thousands they rushed down from the stands andswarmed down over the field. Joe saw them coming and made a dash forthe clubhouse. But before he had reached it, the crowd had closed inabout him, and it was only by the assistance of his mates, who cleareda way for him, that he could get away from their wild enthusiasm andslip into its welcome shelter.
In a few minutes more the whole team had gathered there, laughing andshouting and going over the details of the game, while they took theshowers and changed into their street clothes. There too came Robbieand McRae, as full of glee and happiness as the rest.
"You old rascal!" chortled Robbie, as he slapped Joe on the back."What are you trying to do? Be the whole team--gyp the other fellowsout of their jobs? Such pitching, such batting--and then to cap it allby stealing home! Joe, old boy, I've seen lots of ball games, but yourwork to-day takes the cake."
McRae, though less demonstrative, was not a whit less delighted.
"Great work, Matson," he said. "Keep that up and there isn't a man ineither league will be able to touch you."
Jim too was fairly stuttering with his pride in his chum's achievements.
"Picked the game right out of the fire," he exulted. "Tied it first andwon it afterward. Joe old fellow, you're in a class by yourself. Andthat steal home! They'll talk about it all the season."
"Well," replied Baseball Joe, with a grin, "I got rather homesick onthird, and that home plate looked mighty good to me."
Then Hughson came along with his congratulations, and these perhapswere the greatest reward that Joe could have asked for his day's work.
For Hughson had been Joe's baseball idol for the last ten years. For atleast that period of time, Hughson had been confessedly the greatestpitcher that baseball had ever seen. During that decade he had beenthe mainstay of the Giant team. When Hughson was slated to pitch, hismates were ready to chalk that game up in advance as won. And on theother hand, the opposing team was almost ready to concede the gamebefore it was played. He had speed, curves and everything. At the mostcritical stage of a game he never lost his head. There might be threemen on bases and none out, but that never disturbed Hughson. He wouldbring his wonderful "fadeaway" into action and the batters would godown like ninepins. He had brawn--plenty of it--but in addition he hadbrain, and when it came to strategy and quick thinking there was no oneto be compared with him.
But it was not merely his remarkable skill that had made him thehero of the baseball world. He was a gentleman through and through.He had had a college training and could meet and talk with educatedmen on equal terms. He was upright in his principles, clean in hisliving, quiet, plain, and unassuming. He was hail fellow well metwith the other members of his team, and in fact with baseball playerseverywhere. Everybody liked him, and those who knew him best had a warmaffection for him.
Nor was there the slightest touch of jealousy about him. If any
oneelse could take his laurels by showing that he was a better pitcher,Hughson welcomed the opportunity to give him every chance to do so.He was wholly wrapped up in the success of his team, and was only tooglad to see any one helping to gain that success. His treatment of Joesince the latter had joined the team had been cordial in the extreme.He coached him, encouraged him, and did everything in his power to makehim the star pitcher he saw he was destined to become.
Hughson had been hurt in a collision just before the final games of theprevious year, and had not been able to take part in the World Series.His arm had become better, but he was still in no condition to pitch.So that it had been merely as a spectator that he had witnessed thetriumph of the Giants in this opening game of the season.
Joe's eyes lighted up as he saw Hughson coming toward him with extendedhand.
Baseball Joe, Home Run King; or, The Greatest Pitcher and Batter on Record Page 8
