Baseball Joe in the World Series; or, Pitching for the Championship, Page 3

  CHAPTER III

  A POPULAR HERO

  Reggie hurried away to order the meal that was to put the chef on hismettle, leaving Mabel and Joe once more in possession of the room.

  Good-natured, blundering Reggie! Why had he not waited five minuteslonger before breaking in on that momentous conversation?

  To be sure they could have resumed it now, but Joe felt instinctivelythat it was not the time. Cupid is sensitive as to time and place, andthe little blind god is only at his best when assured of leisure andprivacy. His motto is that "two is company" while three or more areundeniably "a crowd."

  Reggie might be back at any moment, and then, too, the waiters would becoming in to spread the table. So Joe, though sorely against his will,was forced to wait till fate should be more kind.

  But he was in the presence of his divinity anyway and could feast hiseyes upon her as she chatted gaily, her color heightened by the scenethrough which they had just passed.

  And Mabel was a very delightful object for the eyes to rest upon. Joehimself, of course, was not a competent witness. If any one had askedhim to describe her, he would have answered that she was a combinationof Cleopatra and Madame Recamier and all the other famous beauties ofhistory. What the unbiased observer would have seen was a very charminggirl, sweet and womanly, with lustrous brown eyes, wavy hair whosetendrils persisted in playing hide and seek about her ears, dimples thatcame and went in a maddening fashion and a flower-like mouth, revealingtwo rows of pearly teeth when she smiled, which was often.

  Even Reggie was moved to compliment her when he came in again after hisinterview with the head waiter.

  "My word, Sis, but you're blooming to-night, don't you know," heremarked, as he went across the room and put his hand caressingly on hershoulder. "This little trip must be doing you good. You've got such asplendid color, don't you know."

  "Just think of it! A compliment from a brother! Wonder of wonders!" shelaughed merrily.

  Perhaps if she had cared to, she might have enlightened the obtuseReggie as to the cause of the heightened color that enhanced herloveliness. Joe, too, could have made a shrewd guess at it.

  But now the waiters came bustling in and they talked of indifferentthings until the table was spread. A sumptuous meal was brought in, andthe three sat down to as merry a little dinner party as there was thatnight in the city of New York.

  "How honored we are, Reggie," exclaimed Mabel, "to have the great Mr.Matson as our guest! There are hundreds of people who would give theireyes for such a chance."

  She flashed a mocking glance at Joe who grew red, as she knew he would.The little witch delighted in making him blush. It made his bronzed facestill more handsome, she thought.

  "You'd better make the most of it," Joe grinned in reply. "I may falldown in the World Series and be batted out of the box. Then you'll bepretending that you don't know me."

  "I'm not afraid of that," returned Mabel. "After the way you pitchedthis afternoon, I'm sure there's nothing in the American League you needto be afraid of."

  "That's loyal, anyway," laughed Joe. "Still you never can tell. It'shappened to me before and it may happen again. Then, too, you mustremember that it's a different proposition I'll be up against.

  "Take, for instance, the Chicagos to-day. I've pitched against thembefore and I knew their weak points. I knew the fellows who can't hit ahigh ball but are death on the low ones. I knew the ones who would tryto wait me out and those who would lash out at any ball that came withinreach. I knew the ones who would crowd the plate and those who wouldinch in to meet the ball. The whole problem was to feed them what theydidn't want.

  "But it will be different when I come up against the American Leaguers.It will be some time before I catch on to their weak points. And whileI'm learning, one of them may line out a three bagger or a home run thatwill win the game."

  "You speak of their weak points as though they all had them," put inReggie.

  "They do," replied Joe, promptly. "All of them have some weakness, andsooner or later you find it out. If there's any exception to that ruleat all, it's Ty Cobb of Detroit. If he has any weakness, no one knowswhat it is. For the last seven years he's led the American League inbatting, base stealing and everything else worth while. All pitcherslook alike to him. He's a perfect terror to the twirlers."

  "Well, you won't have to worry about him, anyway," smiled Mabel. "It'slucky that he's on the Detroits instead of the Bostons. For I supposeit's the Bostons you'll have to face in the World Series."

  "I guess it will be," answered Joe. "Their season doesn't end untilFriday. They've had almost as tight a race in their league as we'vehad in ours, for the Athletics have been close on their heels. Butthe Bostons have to take only one game to clinch the flag while theAthletics will have to win every game. So it's pretty nearly a surething for the Red Sox."

  "Which team would you rather have to fight against?" asked Reggie.

  "Well, it's pretty near a toss-up," answered Joe, thoughtfully. "Eitherone will be a hard nut to crack. That one hundred thousand dollarinfield of the Athletics is a stone wall, but I think the Bostonoutfield is stronger. That manager of the Athletics is in a class byhimself, and what he doesn't know about the game isn't worth knowing.He's liable to spring something on you at any time. Still the Bostonmanager is mighty foxy, too, and you have to keep your eyes open tocircumvent him. Take it all in all, I'd just about as lief face one teamas the other."

  "It will be a little shorter trip for you between the two cities, if youhappen to have the Athletics for your opponents," suggested Mabel.

  "Yes," assented Joe. "In that case we'd have a good long sleep inregular beds every night, while on the Boston trip we'd have to put upwith sleeping cars. Still the jumps wouldn't be big in either case,and it's a mighty sight better than if we had to go out West for theChicagos or Detroits.

  "From a money point of view the boys are rooting for Boston to win," hewent on.

  "Why, what difference would that make?" asked Mabel in surprise.

  "Because the Boston grounds hold more people than the Athletics' park,"was the answer.

  "That's something new to me," put in Reggie. "I've attended games atboth grounds, and it didn't seem to me there was much difference betweenthem."

  "The answer is," replied Joe, "that we're not going to play at FenwayPark, the regular American League grounds in Boston, in case Boston isour opponent."

  "How is that?"

  "Because Braves Field, the National League grounds there, will hold overforty-three thousand people, and the owners have put it at the disposalof the American League Club," Joe answered.

  "That's a sportsmanlike thing to do," commented Mabel, warmly.

  "It certainly is," echoed her brother.

  "Oh, the days of the old cutthroat policy have gone by," said Joe. "TheNational and American Leagues used to fight each other like a pair ofKilkenny cats, but they've found that there is nothing in such a game.This act of the Boston people shows the new spirit. We saw it, too,when the grandstand was burned at the Polo Grounds. The ruins hadn'tgot through smoking before the Yankee management offered the use of itsgrounds to McRae as long as he needed them. And then a little later whenthe Yankees lost their grounds because streets were going to be cutthrough them, McRae returned the favor by giving them the use of thePolo Grounds. It's the right spirit. Fight like tigers to win games, butoutside of that, let live and wish the other luck."

  "Tell me honestly, Joe, what you think the New York's chances are, incase they have to stack up against Boston," said Reggie.

  "Well," answered Joe, thoughtfully, toying with his spoon, "if you'dasked me that question a week ago, I'd have said that New York would winin a walk. But just now I wouldn't be anywhere near so sure of that."

  "You mean the accident to Hughson?" put in Mabel.

  "Exactly that. He was going like a house afire just before that. You sawwhat he did to Chicago in the first game. He had those fellows eatingout of his hand. He was simply unhittabl
e. That fadeaway of his waszipping along six inches under their bats. They didn't have a Chinaman'schance.

  "Then, too, in addition to that splendid pitching his reputation helpsa lot. The minute it is announced that Hughson is going to pitch, theother fellows begin to curl up. They're half whipped before they start,because they feel that he has the Indian sign on them, and it's of nouse to try."

  "That's so," assented Reggie. "Besides, when he's in the box his ownteam feel they're in for a victory and they play like demons behind him."

  "It's going to take away a lot of confidence from our boys," said Joe,"and in a critical series like that, confidence is half the battle. Wecould have lost two or three other men and yet have a better chance thanwe will have with Hughson out of the game."

  "Isn't there any chance of his recovering in time to take part in someof the games?" asked Mabel.

  "A bare chance only," Joe replied. "I saw the old boy yesterday, andhe's getting along surprisingly fast. You see, he always keeps himselfin such splendid physical condition that he recovers more quickly thanan ordinary man would. We've got over a week yet before the Seriesstarts, and he may possibly be able to go in before the games are over.If he does, that will be an immense help. But McRae had figured onhaving him pitch the first game, so as to get the jump on the otherfellows at the very start. Then he could have gone in at least twicemore, perhaps three times, and it would have been all over but theshouting."

  "It's lucky that McRae has you at hand to step into Hughson's shoes,"declared Reggie.

  "Step into them!" exclaimed Joe. "Yes, and rattle around in them. Nobodycan fill them."

  "I don't believe a word of it," cried Mabel warmly--so warmly in factthat her brother looked at her in some surprise.

  "Yes," she repeated, holding her ground valiantly, "I mean just what Isay. It's awfully generous of you, Joe, to praise Hughson to the skies,but there's no use in underrating yourself. I don't think Hughson canpitch one bit better than you can. Look at that game this afternoon. Iheard lots of people around me say that they never saw such pitchingin all their lives. And what you did to-day you can do again. Sothere!"--she caught herself up, smiling a little confusedly, as thoughshe had betrayed herself, but finished defiantly--"if that be treason,make the most of it."

  Joe's heart gave a great leap, not only at the tribute but at the toneand look that had gone with it. So this was what Mabel thought of him!This was how she believed in him!

  His head was whirling, but in his happy confusion one thought keptpounding away at his consciousness, a thought that never left himthrough all the tremendous test that lay before him:

  "I've _got_ to make good! I've _got_ to make good!"