CHAPTER VI
A STRAIGHT THROW
Joe had hopes of making a safe hit when he came up, but pitchers areproverbially bad batsmen and our hero was no exception. I wish I couldsay that he "slammed one out for a home run, and came in amid wildapplause," but truth compels me to state that Joe only knocked a littlepop fly which dropped neatly into the hands of the second baseman, andJoe went back to the bench.
"Never mind," consoled Jimmie Mack, "you're not here to bat--we count onyou to pitch, though of course if you can hit the ball do it--everytime. But don't get nervous."
"I'm not," answered Joe.
And, to do him justice, his nerves were in excellent shape. He had notplayed on the school and Yale nines for nothing, and he had faced many acrisis fully as acute as the present one.
Then, too, the action of Collin must have had its effect. It was notpleasant for Joe to feel that he had won the enmity of the chief pitcherof the nine. But our hero resolved to do his best and let other matterstake care of themselves.
Whether it was the advent of Joe into the game, or because matters wouldhave turned out that way anyhow, was not disclosed, but Pittston seemedto brace up, and that inning added three runs to their score, which putthem on even terms with the home team--the members of which were playingphenomenal ball.
"And now we've got to go in and beat them!" exclaimed Manager Gregory,as his men took the field. "Joe, I want to see what you can do."
Enough to make any young pitcher nervous; was it not? Yet Joe kept hisnerves in check--no easy matter--and walked to the box with all the easehe could muster.
He fingered the ball for a moment, rubbed a little dirt on it--not thatthe spheroid needed it, but it gave him a chance to look at Gregory andcatch his signal for a fast out. He nodded comprehendingly, havingmastered the signals, and wound up for his first delivery.
"Ball one!" howled the umpire.
Joe was a little nettled. He was sure it had gone cleanly over theplate, curving out just as he intended it should, and yet it was calleda ball. But he concealed his chagrin, and caught the horsehide whichGregory threw back to him--the catcher hesitating just the least bit,and with a look at the umpire which said much.
Again came the signal for a fast out.
Joe nodded.
Once more the young pitcher threw and this time, though the batter swungdesperately at it, not having moved his stick before, there came fromthe umpire the welcome cry of:
"Strike--one!"
Joe was beginning to make good.
I shall not weary you with a full account of the game. I have other, andmore interesting contests to tell of as we proceed. Sufficient to saythat while Joe did not "set the river afire," he did strike out threemen that inning, after a two-bagger had been made. But Joe "tightenedup," just in time to prevent a run coming in, and the score was still atie when the last man was out.
In the next inning Pittston managed, by hard work, and a close decisionon the part of the umpire, to add another run to their score. Thisput them one ahead, and the struggle now was to hold their opponentshitless. It devolved upon Joe to accomplish this.
And he did it.
Perhaps it was no great feat, as baseball history goes, but it meantmuch to him--a raw recruit in his first professional league, "bush"though it was. Joe made good, and when he struck out the last man (oneof the best hitters, too, by the way) there was an enthusiastic scene onthat little ball field.
"Good, Joe! Good!" cried Jimmie Mack, and even the rather staid Mr.Gregory condescended to smile and say:
"I thought you could do it!"
Collin, suffering from his turn-down, sulked on the bench, and growled:
"I'll show that young upstart! He can't come here and walk over me."
"He didn't walk over you--he pitched over you," said George Lee, thesecond baseman. "He pitched good ball."
"Bah! Just a fluke! If I hadn't strained my arm yesterday I'd have madethis home team look like a sick cat!"
"Post-mortems are out of style," said Lee. "Be a sport! It's all in thegame!"
"Um!" growled Collin, surlily.
The team played the game all over again at the hotel that night. Ofcourse it was not much of a victory, close as it was, but it showed ofwhat stuff the players were made, and it gave many, who were ignorant ofJoe's abilities, an insight into what he could do.
"Well, what do you think of my find?" asked Jimmie Mack of his chiefthat night.
"All right, Jimmie! All right! I think we'll make a ball-player of himyet."
"So do I. And the blessed part of it is that he hasn't got a swelledhead from his college work. That's the saving grace of it. Yes, I thinkJoe is due to arrive soon."
If Joe had heard this perhaps he would have resented it somewhat.Surely, after having supplanted a veteran pitcher, even though of nogreat ability, and won his first professional game, Joe might have beenexcused for patting himself on the back, and feeling proud. And he did,too, in a sense.
But perhaps it was just as well he did not hear himself discussed.Anyhow, he was up in his room writing home.
The next day was Sunday, and in the afternoon Joe went for a longwalk. He asked several of the men to go with him, but they all madegood-enough excuses, so Joe set off by himself.
It was a beautiful day, a little too warm, but then that was to beexpected in the South, and Joe was dressed for it. As he walked alonga country road he came to a parting of the ways; a weather-beatensign-post informed him that one highway led to North Ford, while theother would take him to Goldsboro.
"Goldsboro; eh?" mused Joe. "That's where that 'R. V.' fellow lives, whothought I robbed his valise. I wonder if I'll ever meet him? I've agood notion to take a chance, and walk over that way. I can ask him ifhe found his stuff. Maybe it's risky, but I'm going to do it."
He set off at a swinging pace to limber up his muscles, thinking of manythings, and wondering, if, after all, he was going to like professionalbaseball. Certainly he had started in as well as could be expected, savefor the enmity of Collin.
Joe got out into the open country and breathed deeply of the sweet air.The road swept along in a gentle curve, on one side being deep woods,while on the other was a rather steep descent to the valley below. Inplaces the road approached close to the edge of a steep cliff.
As the young pitcher strode along he heard behind him the clatter ofhoofs. It was a galloping horse, and the rattle of wheels told that theanimal was drawing a carriage.
"Someone's in a hurry," mused Joe. "Going for a doctor, maybe."
A moment later he saw what he knew might at any moment become a tragedy.
A spirited horse, attached to a light carriage, dashed around a bend inthe road, coming straight for Joe. And in the carriage was a young girl,whose fear-blanched face told that she realized her danger. A broken,dangling rein showed that she had tried in vain to stop the runaway.
Joe formed a sudden resolve. He knew something of horses, and had morethan once stopped a frightened animal. He ran forward, intending to cutacross the path of this one, and grasp the bridle.
But as the horse headed for him, and caught sight of the youth, itswerved to one side, and dashed across an intervening field, straightfor the steep cliff.
"Look out!" cried Joe, as if that meant anything.
The girl screamed, and seemed about to jump.
"I've got to stop that horse!" gasped Joe, and he broke into a run. Thenthe uselessness of this came to him and he stopped.
At his feet were several large, round and smooth stones. Hardly knowingwhy he picked up one, just as the horse turned sideways to him.
"If I could only hit him on the head, and stun him so that he'd stopbefore he gets to the cliff!" thought Joe. "If I don't he'll go oversure as fate!"
The next instant he threw.
Straight and true went the stone, and struck the horse hard on the head.
The animal reared, then staggered. It tried to keep on, but the blow hadbeen a disabling one. It tried to
keep on its legs but they crumpledunder the beast, and the next moment it went down in a heap, almost onthe verge of the steep descent.
The carriage swerved and ran partly up on the prostrate animal, whilethe shock of the sudden stop threw the girl out on the soft grass, whereshe lay in a crumpled heap.
Joe sprinted forward.
"I hope I did the right thing, after all," he panted. "I hope she isn'tkilled!"