CHAPTER XVA SINGULAR OCCURRENCE
The most brilliant game of the season that far was over and the Giants had won by a score of 1 to 0.
When Baseball Joe, after battling his way through the crowds that swarmed down over the playing field, found himself in the midst of his rejoicing mates in the clubhouse he received one of the greatest ovations of his career.
“If ever there was a one-man game it was this one to-day,†gloated McRae, as he slapped Joe on the shoulder. “To think of shutting those birds out without a single hit. I’ll bet Evans is savage enough to bite nails.â€
“The boys played mighty well behind me,†said Joe modestly. “No pitcher could have asked for better support. They batted well too, considering that they had to face Axander.â€
“To think of your working your way round the bases after Axander passed you,†grinned Robbie. “He thought that he had cheated youout of a run, but you got there just the same.â€
“I never saw finer base stealing in my life,†went on McRae. “It seemed as if you knew just when Axander was going to pitch.â€
“I did,†replied Joe, and he told them of that peculiar chest motion of the Cub pitcher that had stood him in such good stead.
“Haven’t I told you, John, that that headpiece was working all the time?†chuckled Robbie.
“I thought Joe’s goose was cooked though when that throw of Axander’s caught him off third,†put in Larry.
“It didn’t catch me,†replied Joe, with a grin. “I let him do that deliberately. I wanted to be caught, and he rose to the bait.â€
“What?†exclaimed McRae, as though he could not believe his ears.
“Sure thing,†said Joe. “I thought at first I might try to make a clean steal of home. But you know that would have been a hundred to one shot with Axander partly facing me. So I concluded that I might work Henderson. You know what an ice wagon he is. So I razzed him about how slow he was until he began to see red. Then I drew the throw, and he thought he had me trapped. I figured that, all heated up as he was by what I had been saying to him, it would be an immense satisfaction for him to catch me and put the ball on me himself. So I ran just slowlyenough for him to keep right on my heels and think every moment he was going to touch me. You saw how the game worked. When at last he woke up it was too late. It was very simple.â€
McRae looked at Robbie. Robbie looked at McRae. Then they both looked at Joe.
“S-simple!†stuttered Robbie helplessly.
“Simple!†exclaimed McRae. “Oh, yes! Very simple! Painfully simple! The most brainy bit of ball playing that I’ve ever seen on the diamond. Come on, Robbie, let’s get out of here before Joe thinks of some other simple thing.â€
The newspapers the next day devoted columns of their space to describing that wonderful no-hit game and the dazzling exhibition that Joe had given in the box, at the bat, and on the bases. It was generally agreed that the game stood out as one of the most memorable in the annals of the diamond.
The next day Jim turned in another victory in a game that had no eventful feature beyond his own excellent pitching and a homer that the center fielder poled out in the seventh inning.
In the third game, young Bradley was knocked out of the box after pitching a good game for six innings. In the seventh, the Chicagos rallied and knocked his offerings to all corners of the field. Markwith was sent in as a relief and held the invaders down for the rest of the game, but thedamage had already been done and the game went into the bat bag of the Cubs.
Merton, in the fourth game, turned in one of the best exhibitions of his career and the Chicagos left the metropolis a somewhat chastened bunch with only one game of the series out of four to their credit.
The St. Louis Cardinals were next, and they held the Giants to an even break, owing largely to Mornsby’s phenomenal work at short and his prowess with the bat. So far that season he had been hitting at a .400 clip, and he slightly increased that average while in New York. It seemed quite evident that he was the man whom Joe would have to beat if he led the league that year.
“That baby is right there with the stick,†remarked Joe to Jim, after one of the games.
“He’s a dandy all right,†agreed Jim. “It takes a mighty good pitcher to fool him. But you’re ahead of him now in your batting average, and when it comes to long hits—triples and homers—you have him skinned.â€
“He’ll bear watching, just the same,†observed Joe. “I wish we had him on our team. I urged Mac to try to get him last year, and he tried his best to do it, but it was no go.â€
“No wonder,†replied Jim. “The St. Louis management might as well shut up shop if theylet him go. I guess we can get along without him, anyway, the way the boys are playing now.â€
The Cincinnati Reds and the Pittsburghs followed in order. The Giants swept the series with the Reds, but the Pirates were another story. They put up a bitter fight and captured two games out of three, the fourth being prevented by rain.
Still the western invasion resulted very satisfactorily from the Giants’ point of view. They had met the most formidable teams in the league and gathered in ten out of the fifteen games actually played.
For this stage of the season they could scarcely have asked for a better showing. They were leading the league, six games out in front of the Chicagos, their nearest competitor. And with all the players in excellent condition so that they could always put their strongest team on the field, the outlook for the pennant was rosy.
One night as Joe was strolling toward home after the game, Jim having had an errand downtown, he stopped to buy a paper at a newsstand.
As he picked up the paper and turned away, an elderly man, poorly dressed and rather unkempt in appearance, bumped into him, nearly knocking him off his balance. Joe looked up, annoyed, but when he saw that the man was old said nothing. The man did not apologize, butglared at Joe as though the ball player instead of himself had been the offender. He bought a paper and hurried away.
“Who is our genial friend?†asked Joe of the newsdealer, whom he knew well.
“That old fellow?†replied the dealer. “I don’t know his name. Lives round here somewhere, for he often comes here for papers. He’s a queer dick. Think he’s a little touched in the upper story. Some one round here told me that he was a nut on science—a chemist or an electrician or something of the kind.â€
“Doesn’t look much like a highbrow,†remarked Joe.
“No,†agreed the newsdealer, as he arranged his papers. “Still, you can’t always tell from a frog’s looks how far he can jump,†he added philosophically.
Following the departure of the western teams there was an off day in the schedule, and the Giants, with a team composed mostly of rookies, went down to Bridgeport for a game with the local team. Joe had not gone along, as the game was an exhibition one of no importance, and as he had been under a steady strain of late he welcomed the opportunity for a day off.
It was a bright sunny afternoon, and Joe, who happened to be alone, had taken his favorite seat in the bay window of his apartment.
As he glanced idly across the street to a window nearly opposite, he caught sight of the queer-looking old man who had bumped into him at the news stand. The man caught Joe’s eyes, stared at him stupidly for a moment, and then disappeared behind the curtains.
“So that ‘nut on science,’ as the newsdealer called him, is a neighbor of mine,†Joe said to himself with a smile, and promptly forgot the incident.
He had never felt more at peace with the world. He had had a delightful letter from Mabel that morning, full of affection, and had answered it in kind. He had enjoyed a good dinner, and now, with a sigh of contentment, relaxed in his chair to bask in the sun and read the paper.
He was in his shirtsleeves, not having troubled to throw on his lounging jacket, as he expected no visitors and it was a relief to get out of harness.
He picked up the paper and began to read.
Some time later he awoke with a start and looked about him.
The paper had fallen from his hand and lay upon the floor. He himself had slumped down so that his back was resting on the edge of the chair. A little more and he would have slipped off it altogether.
“What do you know about that?†he muttered to himself in surprise. “I must have been asleep. Queer for me to have dropped off that way in the day time. Oh, well, I suppose I just dozed off for a moment.â€
He looked at his watch and gave an exclamation of surprise. It had been about two o’clock when he had settled down in the chair. It was now nearly five. A glance at the changed position of the sun told him that there was nothing the matter with the watch.
“Beats me,†he murmured. “First time since I was a kid that I’ve done anything like that.â€
He pressed his hand against the arm of the chair as he rose, and his own arm almost gave way under him.
“What in thunder!†he exclaimed.
At the same time he was conscious of a prickling sensation in his arm as though a thousand little needle points were jabbing it.