CHAPTER XXIII
THE TRAMP AGAIN
Baseball again claimed the attention of Joe and his mates. They wereworking hard, for the end of the season was in sight, and the pennantownership was not yet decided.
Clevefield was still at the top of the list, but Pittston was crowdingher hard, and was slowly creeping up. Sometimes this would be the resultof her players' own good work, and again it would be because some otherteam had a streak of bad luck which automatically put Joe's team ahead.
The young pitcher was more like himself than at any time since he hadjoined the club. He was really pitching "great" ball, and Gregory didnot hesitate to tell him so. And, more than this, Joe was doing somegood work with the bat. His average was slowly but steadily mounting.
Joe would never be a great performer in this line, and none realized itbetter than himself. No clubs would be clamoring for his services as apinch hitter. On the other hand many a pitcher in the big leagues hadnot Joe's batting average, though of course this might have been becausethey were such phenomenal twirlers, and saved all their abilities forthe mound.
Also did Joe pay attention to the bases. He wished he was a south-paw,at times, or a left-hand pitcher, for then he could more easily havethrown to first. But it was too late to change now, and he made up hismind to be content to work up his reputation with his good right arm.
But, even with that, he made some surprisingly good put-outs whenrunners took chances and got too long a lead. So that throughout thecircuit the warning began to be whispered:
"Look out for Matson when you're on first!"
Joe realized that a good pitcher has not only to play the game from themound. He must field his position as well, and the failure of many anotherwise good pitcher is due to the fact that they forget this.
Much of Joe's success, at this time, was due to the coaching and advicehe received from Pop Dutton. The veteran could instruct if he could notpitch yet, and Joe profited by his experience.
No reference was made by Joe to the night Pop had gone to the lodginghouse, nor did the old pitcher say anything to his young friend. In facthe did not know Joe had had any hand in the matter. Pop Dutton went onhis reformed way. He played the game, when he got a chance, and wasincreasingly good at it.
"Joe!" he cried one day, when he had played a full game, "we're gettingthere! I hope I'll soon be pitching."
"So do I!" added Joe, earnestly. True, the game Pop had played at centrefor the full nine innings was with the near-tailenders of the CentralLeague, but it showed that the veteran had "come back" sufficiently tolast through the hard work.
"How is your arm?" asked Joe.
"Not good enough to use on the mound yet, I'm sorry to say," was Pop'sanswer. "I guess I'll have to have that operation, after all. But Idon't see how I can manage it. I'm trying to pay back some of my olddebts----"
"Don't let that part worry you," spoke Joe, quickly. "If things turn outright I may be able to help you."
"But you've done a lot already, Joe."
"I'll do more--if I can. Just wait until the close of the season, whenwe have the pennant."
What Joe meant was that he would have the money for an operation on thepitcher's arm if the cash was not needed to put Mr. Matson's eyes inshape through the attention of a surgeon.
And this matter was still undecided, much to the worriment of Joe, hismother and sister, to say nothing of his father. But it is necessary,in such matters, to proceed slowly, and not to take any chances.
Joe felt the strain. His regular salary was much needed at home, and hewas saving all he could to provide for his father's possible operation.That cost would not be light.
Then there was Pop Dutton to think of. Joe wanted very much to see theold player fully on his feet again. He did not know what to do, though,should all the money he might get from the pennant series be requiredfor Mr. Matson.
"Well, I'll do the best I can," thought Joe. "Maybe if Gregory and theothers see how well Pop is doing they'll take up a collection and payfor the operation. It oughtn't to cost such an awful lot."
Joe shook his head in a puzzled way. Really it was a little too much forhim to carry on his young shoulders, but he had the fire of youth in hisveins, and youth will dare much--which is as it should be, perhaps.
Then, too, Joe had to be on edge all the time in order to pitch winningball. No pitcher is, or can be, at top notch all the while. He canhardly serve in two big games in quick succession, and yet Joe did thisseveral times, making an enviable record for himself.
The rivalry between him and Collin grew, though Joe did nothing toinflame the other's dislike. But Collin was very bitter, and Pop gaveJoe some warning hints.
"Oh, I don't believe he'd do anything under-handed," said Joe, nottaking it seriously.
"Well, be on the lookout," advised the veteran. "I don't like Collin,and never did."
There came a series of rainy days, preventing the playing of games, andeveryone fretted. The players, even Joe, grew stale, though Gregorytried to keep them in form by sending them off on little trips when thegrounds were too wet even for practise.
Then came fine bracing weather, and Pittston began to stride aheadwonderfully. It was now only a question of whether Joe's team orClevefield would win pennant honors, and, in any event, there would haveto be several games played between the two nines to decide the matter.
This was due to the fact that the league schedule called for a certainnumber of games to be played by each club with every other club, and anumber of rainy days, and inability to run off double headers, hadcaused a congestion.
Pittston kept on playing in good form, and Joe was doing finely. So muchso that on one occasion when a big league scout was known to be inattendance, Gregory said in a way that showed he meant it:
"Joe, they're going to draft you, sure."
The larger or major league clubs, those rated as AA, have, as is wellknown, the right to select any player they choose from a minor league,paying, of course a certain price. Thus the big leagues are controllersin a way of the players themselves, for the latter cannot go to any clubthey choose, whereas any big league club can pick whom it chooses fromthe little or "bush" leagues. If two or more of the big clubs pick thesame player there is a drawing to decide who gets him.
"Well, I'm not worrying," returned Joe, with a smile.
After a most successful game, in Washburg, which team had been playinggood ball--the contest having been won by Pittston--Joe was walkingacross the diamond with Pop Dutton, when the young pitcher sawapproaching them the same tramp with whom his protege had entered thelodging house that night.
"Hello, Pop!" greeted the shabby man. "I want t' see you." He leeredfamiliarly. Pop Dutton stopped and gazed with half-frightened eyes atJoe.