CHAPTER V
"PLAY BALL!"
Just then Mabel came in with her hands full of flowers that she meantto arrange for the table. She stopped short in consternation as she sawthe thundercloud on Joe's brow. For a moment she thought that he andReggie had been quarreling.
"Oh, Joe, what is it?" she asked in alarm.
Joe looked at her lovingly and his brow cleared.
"Nothing, honey," he said, as he came up to her and slipped his armaround her. "It's only that I've just found out from Reggie what it isthat's been worrying you."
Mabel shot a reproachful glance at Reggie, who looked a littleembarrassed.
"Joe got it out of me, Sis," he explained. "Said he had a right to knowand all that sort of thing, don't y'know. And 'pon honor, Sis, I don'tknow but what he's right about it."
"Of course I'm right about it," affirmed Joe. "There can't be anythingnow that concerns Mabel that doesn't concern me. Don't you agree withme, dearest?"
"I suppose so," returned Mabel, as Joe drew her closer. "But, oh, Joe,I didn't want to distress you about it. I was afraid that it wouldweigh on your mind and affect your work this season, and I knew howyour heart was set on making a record. It was just for your sake,dearest, that I kept it to myself. Of course I would have told yousooner or later."
"Well, now Mabel, listen to me," said Joe, as he placed a chair and satdown beside her. "I don't know what fellow has done this. But whoeverhe is, he is a coward as well as a rascal, and will never dare to carryout his threats against me. And even if he should, you know that I amperfectly able to take care of myself. You know that others have triedto injure me, but I always came out on top. Fleming tried it; Braxtontried it, and you know what happened to them. Now what I want you topromise me is to banish this beastly thing entirely from your memory.Treat it with the contempt it deserves. Will you promise me this?"
"I will promise, Joe," answered Mabel. "I'll try to forget that it everhappened."
"That's the girl," commended Joe. "And to set your mind at rest I'llpromise on my part to take especially good care of myself. That's abargain."
But while Joe had secured the promise of Mabel to forget the letter,he had made no such promise himself, and he vowed that if he couldever get any trace of the writer of that letter he would give him thepunishment he so richly deserved.
The train Baseball Joe and Jim Barclay would take was to leave latethat afternoon.
Somehow general knowledge of that fact had got abroad, and theboys were dismayed, on reaching the station, to find that half thepopulation of the little town had gathered there to say good-by andwish them luck. To many of the townspeople, Joe was a bigger man thanthe President of the United States. He had put Riverside "on the map,"and through the columns of the papers they followed his triumphs andfelt that in a sense they were their own.
Of course Joe appreciated this affectionate interest, but just at themoment all he wanted was to be alone with Mabel. He had already biddenhis mother a loving farewell at the house, as she was not well enoughto go to the station. Jim also had eyes and thoughts only for Clara.
But there was no help for it, and they had to exchange greetings andgood wishes with the kindly friends who clustered around them. At thelast minute, however, the young folks had a chance to say a few wordsto each other, and what they did not have time to say was eloquent intheir eyes.
The train moved off, and the boys leaned far out of the windows andwaved to the girls as long as they were in sight. Then they settledback in their seats, and for a long time were engrossed in theirthoughts. Usually they were full of chaff and banter, but to-day it wassome time before they roused themselves from reverie and paid attentionto the realities around them.
It was after they had come back from the dining car after supper thatJoe told Jim about his interview with Reggie and the anonymous letter.Jim's wrath was almost as great as that which had shaken Joe himself.
"And the worst of it is," said Joe, "that there doesn't seem theslightest chance of getting hold of the cowardly fellow that did it.You might as well look for a needle in a haystack."
"Yes," agreed Jim, "that's the exasperating feature of it. It may bethe work of gamblers who have bet against the Giants and want to worryyou so that you won't pitch your best ball. Some of those fellows willdo anything for money. Or it may have been done by some enemy who chosethat way of striking in the dark."
"If it's an enemy," mused Joe, "that narrows it down. There's oldBugs Hartley, but I don't think he has intelligence enough to write aletter. Then there's Fleming, with whom I'm just about as popular aspoison ivy. Add to that Braxton and a few old-time enemies, and you'veabout completed the list."
"I wouldn't put it past Braxton," remarked Jim thoughtfully. "Thatfellow's a rattlesnake. He wouldn't stop at anything to get even withyou."
"I hate to think he'd stoop as low as to try to strike me through awoman," replied Joe. "But, by Jove!" he went on, as a thought struckhim, "do you remember what Reggie said about meeting Braxton inChicago? You know while we were on the trip he mentioned Chicago as hishome town. And that letter had the Chicago postmark."
"Oh, well, you couldn't hang a yellow dog on that," Jim replied. "Butwhat struck me was what Reggie said about the speedy car that Braxtonhad. It must have been a mighty speedy car that got the fellow who laidthat trap on the road from the training town to Hebron. Of course thosethings are only straws, of no value separately, though straws showwhich way the wind blows. One thing is certain. We've got to keep oneman in our mind and guard against him. And that man's name is Braxton."
They reached New York without incident the day before the opening game,and found the city baseball mad. The front pages of the newspapers hadbig headlines discussing the opening of the season. The sporting pagesoverflowed with speculation and prophecy as to the way the differentteams would shape up for the pennant race. In the street cars, in thesubways, in the restaurants, in the lobbies of the theatres, wherevermen congregated, baseball was the subject of discussion. The longwinter had made the populace hungry for their favorite game.
On the following day, the migration toward the Polo Grounds began longbefore noon. Every train was packed with eager, good-natured humanityon its way to the game. By noon the bleachers were packed, and an hourbefore the game was scheduled to begin, every inch of the grandstandswere packed to overflowing.
The Bostons were to be the Giants' opponents in the opening game. Theteam had finished poorly the year before, but many winter trades hadstrengthened the weak spots, and the spring training of the nine hadbeen full of promise. A close game was looked for, with the chancesfavoring the Giants.
McRae was anxious to win the opening game, and had selected Joe to"bring home the bacon." Hughson's arm was not yet in shape, and theprospects were that Joe would have to bear the heft of the pitcher'sburden if the Giants were to carry off the flag.
Both teams were greeted with hearty cheers as they came out on thefield. The Bostons as the visiting team, had the first chance atpractice, and they uncovered a lot of speed in their preliminary work.Then the Giants took their turn in shooting the ball across the diamondand batting long flies to the outfielders.
The bell rang and the field was cleared, while a hush of expectationfell on the crowds. The blue-uniformed umpire stepped to the plate.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he bawled, "the batteries for to-day's game areAlbaugh and Menken for Boston, and Matson and Mylert for New York. Playball!"