CHAPTER XVIII
IN DESPAIR
Joe and Pop Dutton arrived at the hotel in Delamont ahead of the team,which was on the way from Newkirk after losing the last game of thefour. But at that Pittston was still in the lead, and now all energieswould be bent on increasing the percentage so that even the loss of agame now and then would not pull the club from its place.
"Now look here, Joe," said Pop, when he and Joe had eaten, "this may beall right for me, but it isn't going to do you any good."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean consorting with me in this way. I can't stay at this hotel withyou, the other players would guy you too much."
"I don't care about that."
"Well, but I do. Now, look here. I appreciate a whole lot what you'redoing for me, but it would be better if I could go to some other hotel.Then, if you can, you get Gregory to give me a chance. I'll work atanything--assistant trainer, or anything--to get in shape again. But itwould be better for me not to stay here where the team puts up.
"If things go right, and I can go back to Pittston with the boys, I'llgo to some quiet boarding house. Being at a hotel isn't any too good forme. It brings back old times."
Joe saw the logic of Pop's talk, and consented. He gave the broken-downplayer enough money to enable him to live quietly for several days. Whenthe team came Joe determined to put the question to the manager.
As Joe had registered he looked over the book to see if he knew any ofthe guests at the hotel. Though he did not admit so to himself he hadhalf a forlorn hope that he might find the name of Mabel and her brotherthere. He even looked sharply at the various pieces of luggage as theywere carried in by the bell boys, but he did not see the curious valisethat had played such an unpleasant part in his life.
Joe was feeling very "fit." The little rest, even though it was brokenby anxiety concerning his father, had done him good, and the arm thathad been strained in the game that meant so much to Pittston was in fineshape again. Joe felt able to pitch his very best.
"And I guess we'll have to do our prettiest if we want to keep at thetop of the heap," he reasoned.
Then the team arrived, and noisily and enthusiastically welcomed Joe totheir midst again.
Seeking the first opportunity, Joe had a talk with the manager concerningPop Dutton. At first Gregory would not listen, and tried to dissuade Joefrom having anything to do with the old player. But the young pitcher haddetermined to go on with his rescue work, and pleaded with such goodeffect that finally the manager said:
"Well, I'll give him a chance, providing he shows that he can keepstraight. I don't believe he can, but, for your sake, I'm willing tomake the experiment. I've done it before, and been taken in every time.I'm sure this will only be another, but you might as well learn yourlesson now as later."
"I don't believe I'll have much to learn," answered Joe with a smile. "Ithink Pop can come back."
"The players who can do that are as scarce as hens' teeth," was therejoinder of the manager. "But I'll take this last chance. Of course hecan't begin to play right off the bat. He's got to get in training. Bythe way, I suppose he has his release?" The manager looked questioninglyat Joe.
"Oh, yes. He's free and clear to make any contract he likes. He told methat."
"I imagined so. No one wants him. I'm afraid I'm foolish for taking himon, but I'll do it to please you. I'll take his option, and pay him asmall sum."
"Then I'll do the rest," returned Joe, eagerly. "I'm going to have hisarm looked at, and then couldn't you get him a place where he could doout-door work--say help keep our grounds in shape?"
"Well, I'll think about it, Joe. But about yourself? Are you ready tosail in again?"
"I sure am. What are the prospects?"
"Well, they might be better. Collin isn't doing any too well. I'mthinking of buying another pitcher to use when there's not much atstake. Gus Harrison is laid up--sprained his knee a little making a meanslide. I've got to do some shifting, and I need every game I can getfrom now on. But I guess we'll come out somehow."
But the team did not come out "somehow." It came out "nohow," for itlost its first game with Delamont the next day, and this, coupled withthe winning of a double-header by Clevefield, put that team in the leadand sent Pittston to second place.
Joe worked hard, so hard that he began to go to pieces in the seventhinning, and had to be replaced by Tooley, who came into the breachwonderfully well, and, while he did not save the day, he prevented adisgraceful beating. Joe was in the dumps after this despite thecheerful, optimistic attitude of the manager.
Joe's one consolation, though, was that Pop Dutton was in the way ofbeing provided for. The old pitcher was holding himself rigidly in line,and taking care of himself. He had a talk with Gregory--a shame-facedsort of talk on Pop's part--and was promised a place at the Pittstonball park. It was agreed that he would go into training, and try to getback to his old form.
Gregory did not believe this could be done, but if a miracle shouldhappen he realized that he would own a valuable player--one that wouldbe an asset to his club.
And then something happened. How it came about no one could say for acertainty, but Joe went "stale."
He fell off woefully in his pitching, and the loss of several games wasattributable directly to his "slump."
Joe could not account for it, nor could his friends; but the factremained. Pittston dropped to third place, and the papers which gavemuch space to the doings of the Central League began to make sarcasticremarks.
On the diamond, too, Joe had to suffer the gibes of the crowd, which isalways ready to laud a successful player, and only too ready, also, tolaugh at one who has a temporary setback.
Joe was in despair, but in his letters home he kept cheerful. He did notwant his folks to worry. Regularly he sent money to his mother, takingout of his salary check almost more than he could really afford. Also hefelt the drain of looking after Pop, but now that the latter had regularwork on the diamond, keeping it in order, the old pitcher was, in ameasure, self-supporting.
Pop was rapidly becoming more like his former self, but it would takesome time yet. He indulged in light practice, Joe often having himcatch for him when no one else was available. As yet Pop attempted nopitching, the doctor to whom Joe took him warning him against it.
"There will have to be a slight operation on certain muscles," said themedical man, "but I prefer to wait a bit before doing it. You will be inbetter shape then."
"You're taking too much trouble about me, Joe," remarked the veteranplayer one day.
"Not a bit too much," responded Joe, heartily.
From Joe's father came slightly encouraging news. The need of anoperation was not yet settled, and Mr. Matson's general health hadimproved.
"And we can bless baseball a lot!" wrote Mrs. Matson to her son. "I'msorry I ever said anything against it, Joe. If it were not for the moneyyou make at the game I don't know what we'd do now."
Joe was glad his mother saw matters in a different light, but he wasalso a little disturbed. His pitching was not what it should be, and hefelt, if his form fell off much more, that he would not last long, evenin a small league.
Occasionally he did well--even brilliantly, and the team had hopes. Thenwould come a "slump," and they would lose a much-needed game that wouldhave lifted them well toward front place.
Joe's despair grew, and he wondered what he could do to get back to hisgood form. Clevefield, the ancient rivals of Pittston, were now firmlyentrenched in first place, and there remained only about a quarter ofthe league season yet to play.
"We've got to hustle if we want that pennant!" said Gregory, and histone was not encouraging. Joe thought of what he had promised abouthaving the money for his father's operation, and wondered whether hecould do as he said.
But I must not give the impression that all was unhappiness and gloom inthe Pittston team. True, the members felt badly about losing, but theirnerve did not desert them, and they even joked grimly when the pl
ay wentagainst them.
Then came a little diversion. They played a contest against a well-knownamateur nine for charity, and the game was made the occasion forconsiderable jollity.
Gregory sent in most of his second string players against the amateurs,but kept Joe as a twirler, for he wanted him to see what he could doagainst some fairly good hitters.
And, to Joe's delight, he seemed more like his old self. He had bettercontrol of the ball, his curves "broke" well and he was a source ofdismay to the strong amateurs. Of course Pittston, even with hersubstitutes in the game, fairly walked away from the others, theright-handed batters occasionally doing left stick-work, on purpose tostrike out.
But the little change seemed to do them all good, and when the nextregular contest came off Pittston won handily, Joe almost equalling hisbest record.
It was at a hotel in Buffington, whither they had gone to play a seriesof games with that team, that, one afternoon, as Joe entered his room,after the game, he surprised a colored bell boy hurriedly leaving it.
"Did you want me?" asked the young pitcher.
"No, sah, boss! 'Deed an' I didn't want yo'all," stammered the duskyyouth.
"Then what were you doing in my room?" asked Joe, suspiciously.
"I--I were jest seein', boss, if yo'all had plenty ob ice water. Dat'swhut I was doin', boss! 'Deed I was."
Joe noticed that the boy backed out of the room, and held one handbehind him. With a quick motion the young pitcher whirled the intruderabout and disclosed the fact that the colored lad had taken one of Joe'sneckties. But, no sooner had our hero caught sight of it than he burstinto a peal of laughter which seemed to startle the boy more than astorm of accusation.