CHAPTER XXVIIIRACING TOWARD THE PENNANT
On every hand was evidence of the frantic haste with which the apartment had been evacuated.
Drawers had been flung open, papers scattered upon the floor, electric fixtures ripped from their connections. There was no trace of the mysterious electrical instrument, though the imprints of its feet could be seen on a small table.
The members of the group looked at each other in bitter disappointment.
“He’s taken alarm at something,” remarked O’Brien. “Perhaps got a tip that you were on to his track. Maybe the quickness with which his machine worked this morning made him suspicious. Possibly he or his accomplices had field glasses, too, and they may have seen Mr. Matson keeping tabs on them. Well, I’ll put some of my men on his track and I guess we’ll round him up before long.”
“How about Harrish and Tompkinson?” asked Joe.
“No use bothering with them just yet,” replied the detective. “No doubt they’re guilty, but you haven’t a thing in the world on them in connection with this plan. You just saw them speak to this man. But any fan at a ball game may speak to another. No, the only chance you have is to get this scientific bug and trust that he’ll peach on them.”
They were sorely disappointed, but they recognized the truth of what O’Brien said. They had not a scintilla of legal evidence as yet, and a premature accusation would simply put Harrish and Tompkinson on their guard. They must wait.
But despite their chagrin, the hearts of Joe and Jim were simply singing at their discovery of the morning. No more mystery! No more apprehension! No more sleepless nights! No more fears that their livelihood was threatened, that their usefulness was ended!
They had taken on a new lease of life. They had laid the jinx!
And how completely they had laid him was evident in the weeks that followed. Never had they pitched with such deadly precision, such complete mastery over their opponents. Their arms, freed from the malign rays that had gradually been undermining their strength and that would undoubtedly if continued have led to eventualparalysis, had quickly regained their former cunning and power. All teams looked alike to them, and their going into the box soon came to be recognized as almost synonymous with chalking up a victory.
The rest of the pitching staff caught the spirit of victory. The infield and the outfield played like men possessed. Whether at home or on the road, it made no difference.
Steadily the gap widened between the Giants and the Pittsburghs and the Cubs, their most formidable competitors. It seemed as though one of the records that Joe had hung up as a goal was sure to be realized, namely that the Giants should win more games than they ever had before in a single season. A continuation of their present work would make that dream a certainty.
And in the games played at home, it was an immense satisfaction to view the faces of Harrish and Tompkinson in the grandstand as victory after victory was hung up for the Giants. Those rascals attended the games regularly, and that they were rooting violently for the Giants to lose was evident from the glumness of their faces as they saw the other teams mowed down.
“Regular undertakers’ party!” chuckled Jim as he watched them.
“No wonder,” laughed Joe. “Two hundred thousand iron men, simoleons, bones, bucks, coinof the realm of standard weight and refinement—all to be thrown into the gutter because that infernal ray of theirs went wrong. Who wouldn’t be like a mourner at a funeral?”
“With worse to come as soon as that old scientist can be rounded up,” exulted Jim. “It’s funny O’Brien and his men haven’t found hide or hair of him.”
“He’s certainly some crafty old fox,” admitted Joe. “But the cunningest fox can be run to his hole some time.”
“How’s Reggie’s law suit coming on?” asked Jim.
“Haworth says that it will be on the calendar at the next term of court,” replied Joe. “He’s been tracing up the work of those fellows and he tells me that he has a dead open and shut case against them. The papers will be served just as soon as Reggie comes to town to sign them, and he’s due next week.”
Reggie did come into town a few days later, as immaculate as ever, delighted with the success of the Giants and elated at the prospects that his lawyer held out to him regarding his suit.
The day following his arrival Reggie and Joe were going down the stairs of a subway station on their way to visit Haworth’s office.
At the foot of the stairs an elderly womanbumped into Joe and dropped one of her packages. Joe picked it up and handed it back to her with a pleasant smile.
Recognition flashed into the woman’s eyes and with a scream of delight she dropped all her packages and threw her arms about Joe’s neck.