CHAPTER VI
PERPLEXING PROBLEMS
"I hope you're right, Robbie," replied McRae, "and I believe you are.But not a word about this to anybody yet until we've mulled it over inour minds from every angle and are ready to spring it. I don't wantIredell to get any inkling of it yet, for then perhaps he'd get sullenand indifferent and things will be even worse than they are now."
"I'll keep it under my hat," promised Robbie. "How do you thinkIredell's going to take it? He's an ugly sort of customer, you know,when he gets roiled."
"I guess he'll be easy enough to handle," returned McRae. "I'll lethim down easy and heal his wounds with a little increase in salary.But whether he does or not, I'm not going to let any one's personalambitions stand in the way of the success of the team. That comesbefore anything."
"Well now, to change the subject," said Robbie, "who are we going toput in the box to-morrow? We've got to have that game, or the Chicagoswill have a clean sweep of the series."
"I guess we'll have to depend on Markwith," replied McRae. "TheChicagos have never been able to do much against his southpaw slants.Other things being equal, I'd put Barclay in the box. But he pitchedthe last part of to-day's game, and perhaps it will be too soon to askhim to repeat. Even at that I may take a chance. I'll see how they warmup before the game."
"It's too bad that Matson was hurt in to-day's game," remarked Robbie."We were counting on him to take at least two games from St. Louis.Barclay, perhaps, could take another. Three out of four would help ussome in winding up the trip. But if they trim us, too, as all the otherWestern teams have done, I'll hate to go back and face the New Yorkfans."
"I'll work Jim in two of them," said McRae. "Markwith, Bradley andMerton will have to help him out. Possibly Joe will be in shape for thelast game. And maybe the team will take a brace and wake up. At anyrate, we can only hope. There isn't much nourishment in hope, but it'sall we've got."
In the meantime, Jim and Joe had finished their dressing and werepreparing to leave the clubhouse.
Jackwell and Bowen were the only occupants left in the place. They weresitting in a corner engaged in earnest conversation.
"How is the leg, Matson?" asked Bowen, as the two chums passed nearthem.
"None too good," returned Joe. "But it doesn't feel as sore as I feelinside to see that game go flooey. Pity you fellows weren't in it.McGuire and Renton weren't so bad in the field, but they're not as goodstickers as you fellows, and your bats might have turned the tide. Bythe way, are you feeling any better now?"
"I'm all right," answered Jackwell, a little confusedly.
"I'm not feeling exactly up to snuff," said Bowen. "But I guess I'll beable to go in to-morrow."
"Ptomaine poisoning's a pretty bad thing," said Joe, looking at themrather quizzically. "It usually hangs on for days. You're lucky to getover it so quickly."
"You look fit as a fiddle," added Jim, dryly. "Or is it the hecticflush of disease that gives you such a good color?"
"I guess it was only a slight attack," said Jackwell. "Just enough toput us out of our stride for the day."
"I've got to get to the hotel and get there quickly," declared Joe, atwinge going through his foot as he stepped down from the threshold ofthe clubhouse. "Mabel will be at the hotel, wondering what on earth hashappened to me."
"By jiminy, that's so!" cried Jim, turning to stare at his chum. "Whatwill you think of me, old boy, if I confess that in the excitement ofthe game I'd forgotten about her coming?"
Joe grinned.
"You wouldn't have been so quick to forget if Clara had been able tocome along with her," he said, as he walked along gingerly, favoringhis injured leg.
"Say, Joe, that leg must be pretty bad," said Jim, anxiously. "Betterrest a while, don't you think, before starting out?"
"I tell you I've waited too long already," returned Joe. "Just call ataxi, will you? and we'll spin down to the hotel in no time."
Jim went personally in search of a conveyance. It was not hard to findone, and he returned almost immediately to find Joe limping toward himwith the aid of a cane furnished by Dougherty. The latter had offeredhim his shoulder, but Joe, with a smile, refused.
"I may be a cripple, but I refuse to be treated as such," he told Jim,in response to the latter's protest. "Next thing you know, they'll beoffering to carry me on a stretcher."
Nevertheless, Jim noted that Joe sighted the taxicab with eagerness,and leaned back in its shabby interior with a sigh of relief.
"Hate to show myself to Mabel in this shape," he said ruefully. "Looksas though I'd had the worst end of the fight."
"Rather step up lively to the tune of 'Hail the Conquering Hero Comes,'I suppose?" said Jim, with an understanding grin. "I think I get yourtrain of thought all right, old man. But I wouldn't worry, if I wereyou. Nothing you could do would ever make Mabel think you anything buta hero."
"Let's hope you have the right dope," said Joe.
He looked abstractedly from the dingy windows of the cab at thespectacle of the crowded streets. At that moment he really saw nothingbut his young wife as she had looked the last time they had been forcedto say good-bye. It had seemed to him then that he could never bearto part from her again. He was so eager to get to her that he had aludicrous desire to get out and push the taxicab along.
"Thought it was to-night that Mabel was coming," remarked Jim,interrupting his reverie. "You could have met her at the train then."
"Reggie found that he would have to come to the city on business, andsince it was necessary for him to come on an earlier train, Mabeldecided to change her own plans so that she could come along withhim," explained Joe.
"Oh, so we're about to see our old friend, Reggie, again!" exclaimedJim, with real enthusiasm. "Glad to see the old boy, though I can'thelp wishing he'd mislay that monocle of his. 'The bally thing makesme nervous, don't you know?'" he finished, in perfect imitation of theabsent Reggie.
Reginald Varley not only had the fact that he was Mabel's brother torecommend him to Joe and Jim, but despite his affectation of a supposedEnglish accent and the absurdity of a monocle, Reggie was a fine andlikable fellow.
For his part, Reggie professed a great admiration for the chums,especially for his brother-in-law, Baseball Joe. When he could help it,he never missed an opportunity of following the exploits of the two,and, therefore, he had been grateful on this occasion to business forfurnishing him an excuse for accompanying his sister to Chicago whilethe Giants were still there.
"Suppose we go light on this accident, Jim," suggested Joe, indicatinghis injured leg and foot. "Just a slight sprain you know."
"I get you," returned Jim, adding, as his suddenly startled gaze leapedto the traffic that whirled past the rapidly moving taxicab: "Look atthat car coming toward us. On the wrong side of the street, too! Thatdriver's either drunk or crazy!"
Instantly Joe took in the danger. A big automobile, being driven atterrific speed, had rounded the corner on two wheels and was chargingdown upon them. It seemed that the driver of their taxicab would be asuperman if he should prove able to avoid a terrible accident.
Jim had opened the door as though to jump, but Joe called to him.
"Sit tight, Jim," he gritted. "It's the only way."
Lucky for them that the taxi man was keen witted. He saw the onlything that was possible to do in such an emergency, and did it withouthesitation.
With a wild bumping of wheels and screeching of emergency brake, thecar skidded up on the sidewalk, slithered along for a few feet and cameto a standstill. The oncoming car had missed the rear wheels of thetaxicab by the fraction of an inch!
Pedestrians, sensing the imminent peril, had scattered wildly, andnow returned vociferously to view the curious spectacle of a taxicabplanted squarely in the middle of the sidewalk.
Joe's relief at the narrow escape from disaster changed immediately toimpatience with the rapidly gathering and gaping crowd.
"More delay! Say, Jim, can't we beat it out of here?"
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"Fine chance! Especially with your game leg," Jim retorted, adding witha chuckle: "Here comes a cop. Watch him get rid of the crowd."
"More likely to arrest us for disorderly conduct and disturbing thepeace," said Joe, disconsolately. "Fine husband Mabel will think shehas. She'll think I'm mighty anxious to get to her."
"Don't be such a gloom hound," laughed Jim. "This cop has a pleasantface. Wait till I give him some blarney."
At that moment the policeman, having interviewed the sullen and angrychauffeur, opened the door of the cab. The constantly gathering crowdpressed forward curiously to get a glimpse of Joe and Jim.
The officer, a round-faced, good-natured-looking individual, stared atJoe for a moment and then broke into a broad grin.
"Begorry, if you ain't the livin' image of Baseball Joe, the greatestslinger in captivity, my name ain't Denny M'Lean!"
"Sure, it's Baseball Joe! And we owe the fact that he's still living tothe quick wits of our friend here," broke in Jim, indicating the stillfurious chauffeur. "That fool in the other car was driving on the wrongside of the road, officer----"
"Sure he was!"
"I saw it myself!"
"Looked like a head-on collision, I'll tell the world!"
These and other cries came from the crowd, among whom the news that thegreat Baseball Joe occupied the cab with another famous twirler hadspread like wildfire.
"Do me a favor, will you, officer?" urged Joe, taking out his watch andglancing at it hastily. "I'm already late for an appointment. Clear theroad, will you, and let us get going?"
"So far as I see, there ain't no particular objection to that,"returned the bluecoat, with exasperating deliberation. "The sidewalkain't no proper parkin' place for an automobile, as you know. But asyou seem to be havin' plenty of witnesses that say ye couldn't havedone no different, 'twill be easy to overlook yer imperdence. Nowthin," turning to the crowd, "did any one of ye notice the licenseplate of that law-breakin' car?"
Several persons came forward with more or less reliable information.After making a note of this, while Joe fumed with increasing impatience,the officer returned and grinned at them, his eyes snapping with humor.
"Lucky for McRae of the Giants that Baseball Joe kept a whole skin onhim this day. When I get that truck driver I'll be tellin' him what Ithink of him in no unsartin terms. Good-bye to yez, and good luck."
He thrust his huge paw inside the cab, and Joe gripped it heartily. Formany years after this meeting with the great Giant twirler, SergeantDennis M'Lean was to exhibit proudly the hand that had been gripped byBaseball Joe.
They were off at last, crawling through the close-packed crowd, andwith tremendous relief found themselves once more part of the traffic,speeding toward the Wheatstone Hotel where Mabel and Reggie werewaiting for them.
"Suppose we'll have a few blowouts now, just to make the thing realgood," grumbled Joe, and Jim laughed.
"Here we are before the Wheatstone now," he said. "Just goes to showhow sound your gloomy prophecies are!"
Joe's heart leaped as he saw the great building which he was makinghis headquarters during the stay of the club in Chicago and where hehad also engaged a room for Reggie. He started to leap from the cab,which had slowed at the curb, but a sharp twinge from his injured legreminded him of his partly crippled condition.
"Take it easy, old man," warned Jim. "If you don't favor that foot, youmay find yourself laid up for a month instead of a week."
It was all very well for Jim to say "take it easy," but when a youngmarried man has been separated from his wife for weeks, the thing isn'tso easily done.
They rode in the elevator to the fifth floor where, leaning on his caneand refusing the help of Jim's arm, Joe got out and hobbled down thecorridor to the door of his apartment.
"Remember, I'm not really hurt, I just imagine I am," he cautioned Jimonce more, as he put his hand on the knob.
Instantly the door opened and a vision of bright hair and rosy faceseized him by the hand and dragged him into the room.
"You too, Jim! Come in, do!" cried Mabel, breathlessly. "Reggie and Ihave been waiting ages for you. Joe--Joe, dear--that cane! You----"
"It's nothing, nothing at all, little girl," soothed Joe, his armsabout her. "Just a little spill on the field. Be all right in a week.Ask Doc Dougherty, if you don't believe me."
Mabel held him off anxiously at arm's length and looked appealingly atJim.
"Is he telling me the truth? Is he?"
"Well, I like that!" said Joe, before Jim could answer. "As if I didn'talways tell you the truth?"
"You know, I never make it my business to interfere in the quarrelsof husband and wife," drawled the familiar tones of Reggie, as,attracted by the sound of voices, he strolled in from the other room."In fact, quarrels of any kind are foreign to my gentle disposition,don't you know. But on this occasion, I really feel called upon tointerrupt. Jim, my dear fellow, how is the old bean to-day? Rippin',from the looks of it, what? My word, brother-in-law," turning to Joeand adjusting his monocle so as to scrutinize him the better, "you havebeen indulging in a fisticuff of some sort, yes? Tried to do for theold teammates, did you?"
"Oh, leave him alone, Reggie, do!" protested Mabel, all tendersolicitude, as she led Joe to a chair and forced him into it. "Can'tyou see he is all tired out? Now don't talk, dear, unless you want to,"she added to Joe, placing a cushion behind his head and looking at himanxiously, her pretty head on one side.
Joe heaved a contented sigh and smiled up at her.
"As long as you don't tell me not to look at you, I don't care!" hesaid.
Baseball Joe, Captain of the Team; or, Bitter Struggles on the Diamond Page 6
