Baseball Joe in the World Series; or, Pitching for the Championship

by Lester Chadwick

  CHAPTER XXVIII

  A BLOW IN THE DARK

  McRae rushed over to the umpire.

  "There's a fellow over there in the grandstand giving away our signs,"he stormed.

  Cries of derision came from the stands.

  "Hire a hall!"

  "Write him a letter!"

  "Play ball!"

  The umpire called time and walked over with McRae to where Banks wasstanding.

  "Get away from there," he ordered.

  "Why?" asked Banks, impudently.

  "Never mind why. Get away I tell you."

  There was nothing left but to obey and Banks sauntered off.

  "And as for you," said the umpire, addressing Hartley, "if I see youtalking to any of the players I'll have you put out of the park."

  "You're a disgrace to the National League," cried McRae, glaring atHartley, "and I'll see that you get all that's coming to you for thisbit of work."

  "Aw, what's eating you?" retorted "Bugs" sullenly. "I wasn't doinganything." But he seemed to shrivel up before the rage in his formermanager's eyes, and for the rest of the game obeyed the umpire'sinjunction.

  Markwith and Mylert, who was catching him, instantly changed their signsand the Bostons scored no more. But the damage was already done, forLanders was doing some demon pitching, and the game ended with the scoretwo to one in favor of the Red Sox.

  It was a hard game to lose, and Markwith received nothing but condolenceand sympathy from his mates. He had pitched superbly and though beatenwas not disgraced.

  "I wonder how much that traitor got for giving away his own league,"said Joe, bitterly.

  "Probably just enough to fill up his wretched skin with booze," returnedJim. "Fellows like him come cheap."

  "He won't get another chance," put in McRae, angrily. "I'll have thestands searched to-morrow, and if he's there he'll be bundled out neckand heels."

  Once more the hard-won lead of the Giants had vanished into thin air.But they took heart of hope and braced up for the struggle on themorrow. They were to play on their own grounds and Joe would be in thebox.

  All the members of Joe's party were boiling over with indignation. Ifanything they took the defeat harder than the players themselves, whohad learned in a hard school to take what was coming to them and braceup for revenge.

  "Well, to-morrow's a new day and what we'll do to those fellows thenwill be a caution," Jim declared philosophically.

  Perhaps his cheerful view of things was increased by the fact that Clarahad promised to let him take her for a cozy little spin to see BunkerHill Monument by moonlight. The moon just then was in high favor withthese two young people.

  It was arranged that the pair need not come back to the hotel, but thatJim could bring Clara directly to the train. Mr. Matson and Reggie wouldescort the others.

  Joe grudged every minute spent away from Mabel and stayed with her aslong as he could that evening. But he had promised to drop in on LouisAnderson to see that the arrangement with Fleming had been carried out,and at last he left her reluctantly, promising to see her again on thetrain if only long enough to say good-night.

  But though he was deprived of her physical presence, his thoughts werefull of her as he was whisked away in the car he had summoned, and thetime passed so quickly that he was surprised when the driver drew up infront of Anderson's house.

  "Wait for me here," he directed as he stepped out. "I'll only be a fewminutes."

  "Very well, sir," was the response.

  Hardly had Joe gone inside when a man stepped up to the curb.

  "I want you to take me to the North Station," he said, preparing to stepinside.

  "Sorry, sir," was the answer, "but I'm waiting for the fare I broughthere."

  "But I must get that train, I tell you," persisted the other. "I'll payyou anything you want. Ten dollars, fifteen even."

  The driver was tempted.

  "Make it twenty and I'll go," he said. "I suppose the gentleman can pickup another car."

  "Sure he can," replied the other. "Twenty it is. Get a move on, now."

  He got inside and the car whizzed away.

  Joe found Anderson and his wife radiant.

  "He did it, Mr. Matson!" the old man cried. "He grumbled a lot abouthaving had to telegraph on to New York to have his bank wire the cashto him, but he did it. And I signed a paper giving him a release of allclaims against him. Oh, Mr. Matson, we can never thank you enough forwhat you have done for us."

  His wife joined in his expressions of gratitude.

  "Don't mention it," smiled Joe. "I only did what any decent man woulddo to right a great wrong. And you squared the account when you gave methat warning the other day. I was just on the point of stepping into atrap when I thought of the warning and it saved me."

  "Is that so?" cried Anderson, delightedly. "I'm mighty glad if it helpedyou."

  They chatted happily for a few minutes and then, as his time was gettingshort, Joe took his leave with their repeated thanks ringing in his ears.

  He was dumbfounded when he saw that the taxicab was not there.

  "Where in thunder is that fellow?" he asked himself. "I suppose he'sgetting a nip in the nearest saloon."

  But when, after a minute or two spent in waiting, no car appeared, Joestarted for the nearest thoroughfare, three short blocks away.

  He was just passing the second corner when a man stepped out of theshadows with something in his hand.

  "Hi, there, stop!"

  "What do you want?" demanded Joe, trying to make out the face in thedarkness.

  "I want you!" hissed the man.

  He took a step closer and raised the object he carried in his hand.

  Joe tried to dodge, but it was too late.

  There was a quick blow. Joe felt no sense of pain. Rather it was agradual sinking, sinking, ten thousand fathoms deep!

  Then the famous young baseball player became unconscious.