CHAPTER II
GLOWING HOPES
"And now!" exclaimed Joe, as soon as the door had closed on theunwelcome visitor, "tell me, Mabel, what that fellow said or did, andI'll hunt him up and thrash him within an inch of his life. I'll makehim wish he'd never been born."
"Don't do anything like that, Joe," urged the girl. "He's probably hadhis lesson, and it isn't likely I'll ever be troubled by him again. He'sjust an acquaintance that Reggie picked up somewhere, and I've onlyseen him once before to-day. He called at the hotel to see Reggie, andwhen he found he wasn't in, he stayed to talk with me. He started in bypaying me a lot of compliments and then became familiar and impudent. Heseized my hand, and when I sought to pull it away from him he wouldn'tlet me. I was getting thoroughly frightened and was going to call outwhen your knock came at the door. Oh, Joe, I was so glad when I saw whoit was!"
She was perilously near to tears, and her beautiful eyes were dewy asthey looked into his. Joe's heart beat madly. The words he had beenlonging to say leaped to his lips, but he choked them back. He did notwant to catch her off her guard, to take advantage of her emotions andof her shaken condition. Her acceptance of him at that moment mightbe due in part to gratitude and relief. He wanted more than that--theunconditional, unreserved surrender of her heart and life into hiskeeping, based only on affection.
So he held himself under control and recompensed himself for hisselfdenial by an inward promise to make things interesting for Mr.Beckworth Fleming, if ever that cad's path and his should cross.
"But come," said Mabel more brightly, as she sank into a chair andmotioned Joe to another, "let's talk about something pleasant."
"About you then," smiled Joe, his eyes dwelling on her eloquently.
"Not poor little me," she pouted in mock humility. "Who am I comparedwith the great Joseph Matson about whom all the world is talking--theman who won the championship for the Giants, the hero whose pictureto-morrow will hold the place of honor in every newspaper in thecountry?"
"You're chaffing me now," laughed Joe.
"Not a bit," she said demurely, her dimples coming and going in a waythat drove him nearly distracted. "I really feel as though I ought tosalaam or kow-tow or whatever it is the Orientals do when they comebefore the Emperor. But, oh, Joe," and here she dropped her banteringmanner and leaned forward earnestly, "you were simply magnificent thisafternoon. The way you kept your nerve and won that game was justwonderful. I was so excited at times that I thought my heart would leapout of my body. I was proud, oh, so proud that you were a friend ofmine!"
Joe had heard many words of praise that day but none half so sweet asthese.
"Will you let me tell you a secret?" he exclaimed, half rising from hischair. "Do you want to know who really won that game?"
"Why, you did," she returned in some surprise. "Of course the restof the team did, too, but if it hadn't been for your pitching andbatting----"
"No," he interrupted, "it was _you_ who won the game."
He had risen now and had come swiftly to her side.
"Listen, Mabel," he said, and before the note in his voice she felther pulses leap. "You were in my mind from the start to the finish ofthat game. I looked up at you every time I went into the box. Thislittle glove of yours"--he took it from his pocket with a hand thattrembled--"lay close to my heart all through the game. Mabel----"
"Why, hello, Joe, old top!" came a voice from the door that had openedwithout their hearing it. "What good wind blew you here? I'm no end gladto see you, don't you know. Congratulations, old man, on winning thatgame. You were simply rippin', don't you know."
And Reggie Varley ambled in and shook Joe's hand warmly, blandlyunconscious of the lack of welcome from the two inmates of the room.
"How are you, Reggie?" Joe managed to blurt out, wishing viciously thatat that moment his friend were at the very farthest corner of the world.
It is possible that Mabel's feelings were most unsisterly, but sheconcealed them and rallied more readily than Joe from the shock causedby her brother's inopportune coming.
"I was just telling Joe how proud we were of him," she smiled. "Buthe's so modest that he refuses to take any credit for what he has done.Insists that somebody else won the game."
"Of course that's all bally nonsense, don't you know," declared Reggie,looking puzzled. "The other fellows helped, of course, but Joe was theking pin. Those Chicagos were out for blood and Joe was the only one whocould tame them."
Joe listened moodily, and while he is recovering his composure it maybe well, for the sake of those who have not followed the career of thefamous young pitcher, to mention the previous books of this series inwhich his exploits are recorded.
His diamond history opened in the first volume of the series, entitled:"Baseball Joe of the Silver Stars; Or, The Rivals of Riverside." Here hehad his first experience in pitching. In that restricted circle he soonbecame widely known as one of the best of the amateur boxmen, but he hadto earn that position by overcoming many difficulties.
In "Baseball Joe on the School Nine," we find the same qualities ofgrit and determination shown in a different field. The situation herewas complicated by the efforts of the bully of the school, who dideverything in his power to frustrate Joe and bring him to disaster.
A little later on, Joe went to Yale, and his triumphs in the greatuniversity are told in the third volume of the series, entitled:"Baseball Joe at Yale; Or, Pitching for the College Championship."
As may be imagined, with such redoubtable rivals as Harvard andPrinceton, a very different class of baseball is required from thatwhich will "get by" in academies and preparatory schools.
Joe got his chance to pitch against Princeton in an exciting game wherethe Yale "Bulldog" "put one over" on the Princeton "Tiger."
But in spite of his athletic prowess and general popularity, Joe was notentirely happy at Yale. His mother had set her heart on Joe's studyingfor the ministry. But Joe himself did not feel any special call in thatdirection. While always a faithful student he was not a natural scholar,and outdoor life had a strong appeal for him. His success in athleticsconfirmed this natural bent, until at last he came to the conclusionthat he ought to adopt professional baseball as his vocation.
His mother was, naturally, much disappointed, as she had had greathopes of seeing her only son in the pulpit. Moreover, she had the vaguefeeling that there was something almost disreputable in making baseballa profession. But Joe at last convinced her that whatever might havebeen true in the early days of the game did not apply now, when somany high-class men were turning toward it, and she yielded, thoughreluctantly.
Joe's chance to break into the professional ranks was not long incoming. That last great game with Princeton had been noted by JimmieMack, manager of the Pittston team in the Central League. He made Joe anoffer which the latter accepted, and the story of his first experienceon the professional diamond is told in the fourth volume of the seriesentitled: "Baseball Joe in the Central League; Or, Making Good as aProfessional Pitcher."
But this was only the first step in his career. He was too ambitiousto be content with the Central League except as a stepping stone tosomething higher. His delight can be imagined, therefore, when helearned that he had been drafted into the St. Louis Club of the NationalLeague. He was no longer a "busher" but the "real thing." He had to workhard and had many stirring adventures. How he succeeded in helping histeam into the first division is told in the fifth volume of the series,entitled: "Baseball Joe in the Big League; Or, A Young Pitcher's HardestStruggles."
But these hard struggles were at the same time victorious ones andattracted the attention of the baseball public, who are always on thelookout for a new star. Among others, McRae, the famous manager of theNew York Giants, thought he saw in Joe a great chance to bolster up hispitching staff. Joe could hardly believe his eyes when he learned thathe had been bought by New York. It brought a bigger reputation, a largersalary and a capital chance to get into the World Series. He worked likea
Trojan all through the season, and, as we have already seen, camethrough with flying colors, winning from the Chicagos the final gamethat made the Giants the champions of the National League and put themin line for the championship of the world. The details of the stirringfight are told in the sixth volume of the series, entitled: "BaseballJoe on the Giants; Or, Making Good as a Ball Twirler in the Metropolis."
"I say, old top," remarked Reggie, breaking in on Joe's rather resentfulmusings, "you're going to stay and have dinner with us to-night, youknow."
Joe looked at Mabel for confirmation.
"You certainly must, Joe," she said enthusiastically. "We won't take nofor an answer."
As there was nothing else on earth that Joe wanted so much as to be withMabel, he did not require much urging.
"And I'll tell you what we'll do," suggested Mabel. "In fact, it's theonly thing we can do. We'll have the dinner served right in here forthe three of us. If you should go down in the public dining-room of thehotel to-night, Joe, you'd have a crowd around the table ten lines deep."
"By Jove, you're right," chimed in Reggie. "They'd have to send out acall for reserves. I'll go down and have a little talk with the headwaiter, and I'll have him send up a dinner fit for a king."
"Fit for a queen," corrected Joe, as he glanced at Mabel.