CHAPTER XXVI
ADRIFT
"There," said Baseball Joe, coming to a halt at a dark street corner,the stranger close beside him, "if you go up that way, and turn as Itold you to, it will take you directly to the Reading Terminal."
"I don't know how to thank you," mumbled the other. He seemed to befumbling in his pocket. "I'll give you my card," he went on. "If you areever in San Francisco----"
But it was not a card that he pulled from the inner pocket of his coat.It was a rag, that bore a strange, faint odor. Joe stepped back, but notquickly enough. He suspected something wrong, but he was too late.
An instant later the stranger had thrown one powerful arm aboutthe young pitcher, and, with his other hand he pressed thechloroform-saturated rag to Joe's nose and mouth.
Joe tried to cry out, and struggled to free himself. But his sensesseemed leaving him under the influence of the powerful drug.
At that moment, as though it had been timing itself to the movements ofthe man who had followed Joe, there drove up a large ramshackle cab, andout of it jumped two men.
"Did you get him, Wes?" one asked eagerly.
"I sure did. Here, help me. He's gone off. Get him into the cab."
Poor Joe's senses had all but left him. He was an inert mass, but hecould hear faintly, and he recognized the voice of Shalleg.
He tried to rouse himself, but it was as though he were in a heavysleep, or stupor. He felt himself being lifted into a cab. The doorslammed shut, and then he was rattled away over the cobbles.
"I wonder what they're going to do with me?" Joe thought. He had enoughof his brain in working order to do that. Once more he tried tostruggle.
"Better tie him up," suggested a voice he now recognized as that of thefellow who had twisted his arm on the street car.
"Yes, I guess we had," agreed Shalleg. "And then to the Delaware withhim!"
Joe was too weak, and too much under the influence of the drug, to caregreatly what they did with him--that is, in a sense, though a feeling ofterror took possession of him at the words.
"The river!" gasped Wessel. "I thought you said there'd be no violence,Shalleg."
"And there won't!" promised the leader of the conspirators.
"But you said to tie him, and then to the river with him."
"You don't s'pose I'm going to chuck him in; do you?" was the angryquestion.
"I don't know."
"Well, I'm not! I'm just going to put him out of the way for a time. Itold him I'd get even with him for not helping me out of a hole, andthen for spreading reports about me, that kept me from getting a placeon the Cardinals, as well as on any other team. I told him I'd fix him!"
So, this was the secret of Shalleg's animosity! He had a fanciedgrievance against Joe, and was taking this means of gratifying hispassion for revenge. Joe, dimly hearing, understood now. He longed to beable to speak, to assure Shalleg that he was all wrong, but they hadbound a rag about his mouth, and he could not utter a sound, even hadnot the chloroform held his speech in check.
"Pass over those ropes," directed Shalleg to his cronies in the cab,which lurched and swayed over the rough stones. The cab held four, on apinch, and Joe was held and supported by one of the men. The gag in theyoung pitcher's mouth was made tighter, and ropes were passed about hisarms and feet. He could not move.
"What's the game?" asked Wessel, as the trussing-up was finished.
"Well, I don't want to do him any real harm," growled Shalleg, "but I'mgoing to put him out of the game, just as I was kept out of it by histattling tongue. I'm going to make him fail to show up to-morrow, andthe next day, too, maybe. That'll put a crimp in his record, and in theCardinals', too, for he's been doing good work for them. I'll say thatabout him, much as I hate him!"
Joe heard this plot against him, heard it dimly, through his half-numbedsenses, and tried to struggle free from his bonds. But he could not.
On rattled the cab. Joe could not tell in which direction they weregoing, but he was sure it was along the lonely river front. The effectsof the chloroform were wearing off, but the gag kept him silent, and theropes bound his hands and feet.
"Have any trouble trailing him?" asked Shalleg of Wessel, who haddisguised himself with a false beard.
"Not a bit," was the answer. "It was pie! I pretended I had lost myway."
The men laughed. Either they thought Joe was still incapable of hearingthem, or they did not care if their identity and plans were known.
A multitude of thoughts rushed through Joe's head. He did not exactlyunderstand what the men were going to do with him. They had spoken oftaking him to the river. Perhaps they meant to keep him prisoner on aboat until his contract with the St. Louis team would be void, becauseof his non-appearance. And Joe knew how hard it would be to get back inthe game after that.
True, he could explain how it had happened, and he felt sure he wouldnot be blamed. But when would he get a chance to make explanations? Andthere was the game to-morrow! He knew he would be called on to pitch,for Mr. Watson had practically told him so. And Joe would not be onhand.
"Aren't we 'most there?" asked Wessel.
"Yes," answered Shalleg, shortly.
"What are we to do?" asked the other.
"You'll know soon enough," was the half-growled reply.
The cab rattled on. Then it came to a stop. Joe could smell the dampnessof the river, and he realized that the next act in the episode was aboutto be played.
He felt himself being lifted out of the cab, and he had a glimpse of astreet, but it was too dark to recognize where it was, and Joe was notwell enough acquainted with Philadelphia to know the neighborhood. Thena handkerchief was bound over his eyes, and he was in total darkness.
He heard whispered words between Shalleg and the driver of the cab, butcould not make out what they were. Then the vehicle rattled off.
"Catch hold of him now," directed Shalleg to his companions. "We'llcarry him down to the river."
"To the river!" objected Wessel, and Joe felt a shiver go through him.
"Well, to the boat then!" snapped Shalleg. "Don't talk so much."
Joe felt himself being carried along, and, a little later, he was laiddown on what he felt was the bottom of a boat. A moment later he couldtell by the motion of the craft that he was adrift on the Delaware.
Baseball Joe in the Big League; or, A Young Pitcher's Hardest Struggles Page 26
