CHAPTER XXVI
THE TIRELESS FOE
The Giants opened at Chicago, and the results were none too good.The Cubs, who just then were in the midst of a spurt, clawed and bittheir way to victory in two games of the four, and the Giants werelucky to break even. As it was, the two games they won were annexedby the terrific batting of Joe, who was hitting like a demon. In thefour games he made three home runs, and two of them were lined outwhen there were men on bases. All pitchers looked alike to him, and heplayed no favorites. The rest he had had from pitching had made him allthe more effective as a batsman.
His fame as a hitter had spread through all the cities of the League,and the Chicago grounds were filled to their capacity during theGiants' visit. Most of the spectators were as eager to see him hit oneof his mammoth homers as they were to see the home team win. Cheersgreeted him every time he came to the bat. He was the greatest drawingcard that the Giants had or ever had had.
Opinion was divided as to whether he or Kid Rose of the Yankees wasthe greatest hitter. Each had his partisans. Rose had been longerin the limelight, and those who had made up their minds that he wasthe greatest hitter that ever lived were reluctant to see their idolreplaced by a newcomer. Many confidently predicted that Joe wouldnot last, that his work was only a flash in the pan. Others declaredthat he did not have to bat against as good pitching in the NationalLeague as was shown in the American, and that therefore Rose's work wassuperior. But as Joe kept on, day in and day out, lacing out tremendoushits that landed in the bleachers and at times sailed over the fence,the doubters grew silent, or joined in the wild applause as Joe joggedaround the bases and crossed the plate standing up.
The keenest interest was manifested in the race that the Yankees weremaking to land the flag in the American League. If they should come outon top, the World Series would be held between New York teams, and Roseand Joe could be seen in action against each other. That would help tosettle the question as to which had a right to wear the batting crownof the world. It would be a battle of giants, and it was certain that,if such a contest took place, there would be delegations to see itfrom all parts of the country.
McRae was no longer content to use Joe simply as a pinch hitter. Hewanted to take full advantage of his marvelous hitting, and so heput him in the regular line-up and played him every day. Wheeler wasrelegated to the bench and Joe took his place in the field. The manageralso changed his batting order, putting Joe fourth in the cleanupposition. And again and again his judgment was vindicated by the wayJoe cleaned up with homers, sending his comrades in ahead of him.
The day the third Chicago game was played was a very hot one, and Joeand Jim were tired and warm. Jim had pitched that day and won, after agruelling contest, and Joe had varied his ordinary routine by knockingout two home runs instead of one.
Joe was seated in his hotel room, writing a letter to Mabel. Jim hadstepped down to the office to get some stationery, for he had thepleasant task on hand of writing to Clara.
A knock came at the door, and in answer to his call to enter, a bellboystepped into the room, bearing a pitcher and glasses.
"Here's the lemonade you ordered, boss," he said, as he put his burdenon a convenient stand.
"Lemonade?" repeated Joe in some surprise. "I didn't order any."
"Clerk sent me up with it, sir," said the bellboy respectfully. "Saidit was for Mr. Matson, room four-seventeen. This is four-seventeen,isn't it?" he asked as he glanced at the number on the door, which hehad left open.
"This is four-seventeen, all right, and I'm Mr. Matson," Joe answered."But I didn't order anything. I'll tell you how it is though," headded, as a thought struck him. "My friend who is sharing the room withme has just gone down to the lobby, and he's probably told the clerk tosend it up. That's all right. Leave it there."
"Shall I pour you out a glass, sir?" asked the boy, suiting the actionto the word.
"If you like," responded Joe carelessly, taking a quarter out of hispocket as a tip.
The boy thanked him and withdrew, closing the door behind him. Joefinished the paragraph he was writing, and then picked up the glass. Hetook a sip of it and put it down.
"Pretty bitter," he said to himself. "Not enough sugar. Still it'scooling, and I sure am warm."
Again he lifted the glass to his lips, but just then Jim burst into theroom.
"Whom do you think I saw just now?" he demanded.
"Give it up," replied Joe. "But whoever it was, you seem to be allexcited about it. Who was it?"
"Fleming!" answered Jim, as he plumped down into a chair.
"Fleming!" repeated Joe with quickened interest. "What's that fellowdoing here? I thought he hung out in New York."
"That's what I want to know," replied Jim. "Wherever that fellow is,there's apt to be dirty work brewing. And the frightened look that cameinto his eyes when he saw me, and the way he hurried past me, made meuneasy. He acted as if he'd been up to something. I don't like the ideaof a pal of Braxton being in the same hotel with us."
"I don't care much for it myself," answered Joe. "Still, a hotel isopen to anybody, and this is one of the most popular ones in the city.It isn't especially surprising that you should happen to run acrosshim."
"Not surprising perhaps, but unpleasant just the same," responded Jim."It leaves a bad taste in my mouth."
"Well," laughed Joe, "take the bad taste out with a glass of thislemonade you sent up. It isn't very good--it has a bad taste of itsown--but it will cool you off."
He raised his glass to his mouth as he spoke. But in an instant Jim wason his feet and knocked the glass from his hand. It fell on the floorand splintered in many pieces.
Joe looked at him in open-eyed amazement, too astonished to speak.
"Don't touch the stuff!" cried Jim. "What do you mean by saying I sentit up?"
"Didn't you?" asked Joe. "The bellboy said he had been told to bring itto me, and as I hadn't ordered it, I jumped to the conclusion that youhad."
"Not I!" replied Jim. "But I can guess who did!"
"Who?"
"Fleming."
The two friends looked fixedly at each other.
"Do you mean," asked Joe, after a moment in which surprise andindignation struggled for the mastery, "that that lemonade was doped?"
"Doped or poisoned, I'll bet my life," affirmed Jim. "Let's get tothe bottom of this thing. Quick, old man! Perhaps Fleming is stillsomewhere in the hotel."
"Not a chance," replied Joe, jumping to his feet. "If he's mixed up inthis, he's getting away as fast as his legs or a car can carry him. Butwe'll go down and see what we can learn from the clerk."
They went to the head clerk, whom they knew very well. He was an ardentfan, and his face lighted up as he saw the friends approaching.
"Saw you play to-day, gentlemen," he said. "Those two home runs ofyours were whales, Mr. Matson. And your pitching, Mr. Barclay, was allto the mustard."
"Sorry to beat your Chicago boys, but we needed that game in ourbusiness," laughed Joe. "But what I want to see you about just now is apersonal matter. Did you get an order from me or from my room to sendup any lemonade?"
The clerk looked surprised.
"No," he replied. "I didn't get any such request. Wait a moment until Isee the telephone operator."
He consulted the girl at the telephone, and was back in a moment. "Nomessage of any kind came from your room to-night," he announced.
"But one of your bellboys brought it up," persisted Joe.
"Which one of them was it?" asked the clerk, pointing to a group ofthem lounging about.
"None of them," responded Joe, as he ran his eye over them.