Read Baseball Joe of the Silver Stars; or, The Rivals of Riverside Page 17


  CHAPTER XVII

  A THROWING CONTEST

  "Ha!" exclaimed Mr. Benjamin. "There's that same lad again!"

  "What lad?" quickly demanded Mr. Holdney. "Oh, the one who sent us outthis rig. I wonder----"

  "Did you want to see any one around the works?" interrupted Mr.Benjamin. "I don't want to seem impolite, after the service yourendered, but we don't allow loiterers here."

  A number of thoughts passed rapidly through Joe's mind. He realized thathis father might come out at any moment and be seen by the managercarrying off the valuable patterns. Mr. Matson ought to be warned, forJoe realized that if they were to frustrate the conspiracy it would bebest that the men did not know that they were on the verge of discovery.

  "I want to take a message to Mr. Matson," said Joe boldly, for this wasthe truth. He had quickly formed a plan in his mind, and he hoped thatit would not be discovered that he was Mr. Matson's son. It was thisvery trick of quick thinking that afterward became of so much service toJoe in his notable career on the diamond.

  "Oh, then it's all right," said Mr. Benjamin. "You may go in. You'llfind Mr. Matson in his office, I dare say." He smiled at Joe in what hedoubtless meant to be a friendly fashion, but the young baseball playercould not help but see the hypocrisy in it.

  Not pausing to exchange any other talk, Joe slipped in through the bigiron gate and made his way to his father's office. He had been therebefore.

  Just as he reached it the heavy whistle blew, announcing closing time,and hundreds of hands began pouring from the various machine and castingshops.

  "Hello, Joe!" called Seth Potter, who played left field for the SilverStars. "What you doing here, looking for a job?" Seth was employed inone of the offices, and was considered a valuable young man.

  "Yes, I want to learn how to make a machine so I don't miss any fliesthat come my way," laughed Joe.

  "That's right! Going to play with us Saturday?"

  "I hope so," and then, with a few other pleasant words, Seth hurried on,and Joe sought his father. He found Mr. Matson wrapping up some models.

  "Quick dad!" he exclaimed. "Mr. Benjamin and Mr. Holdney are out at thegate. They just drove up. I slipped in to warn you!"

  "Good, Joe! I'm glad you did. I wouldn't want them to see me takingthese things away, for it would tell them that their game wasdiscovered, and I want to find out more of what their plans are beforethey are aware of it."

  "But how you going to get out?" asked his son. "They're there yet," headded, for he could look from a window and see the carriage still at thegate.

  "Oh, you and I can slip out the back way. It's lucky you told me. There,I'm ready," and having locked his desk, Mr. Matson took his package andwith Joe went out of a rear exit, going home by a roundabout way so thatthe conspirators did not see them.

  "My! I wish this thing hadn't happened, or that it was postponed for awhile," said Mr. Matson thoughtfully as he walked along.

  "Why, is it likely to be serious, dad?"

  "I'm afraid so. You see I have a peculiar arrangement with the harvesterconcern in regard to things that I might invent. It is too complicatedto go into all the details, but I have to trust to their honor to giveme my rights in certain matters. If they wanted to they could deprive meof the benefits of my patents and the law could not help me. So I haveto be very careful. Up to now I have trusted Mr. Benjamin implicitly,but now--now I will be on my guard. It is a lucky thing you overheardthat talk."

  There was an earnest consultation between Mr. and Mrs. Matson thatnight, to which Joe and his sister were not admitted, for it wasbusiness they would not have understood. But at the close they were toldto say nothing of what had happened that day.

  "I will keep right on at the harvester works as if nothing hadoccurred," said Mr. Matson, "and then they will not get suspicious. ButI will do the most important and secret work on my invention here athome."

  "Now that it is all settled," said Clara, "I'm going to say 'applesauce' to you, Joe. What does it mean?"

  "Oh, yes," and the young baseball player laughed. "Well I guess you'vegot to join the Dorcas and Sewing societies, mother, to keep me out of ascrape," and with many funny touches Joe told about his wild throw thatday, making an amusing story of it.

  "Oh, I would have given anything if some of the girls and I could havebeen there when you and Tom were blacking the stove!" exclaimed Clarawith a laugh.

  "I'm glad you weren't," declared Joe, "though it's lucky we didn't haveto mop up the floor. After this I'm going to go a mile away from herhouse when I want to practice throwing."

  "I should think you would," agreed Mr. Matson.

  "But you'll join those societies; won't you mother?" asked Joe.

  "Oh, I suppose I'll have to, in order to keep you out of prison," sheagreed with a laugh. "But please don't make any more engagements for me,as my time is pretty well occupied."

  It was two days after this when Tom Davis, coming out of school, caughtup with Joe who was a little in advance of him.

  "Got anything special to do?" asked the substitute first baseman.

  "No, why?"

  "I thought maybe you'd like to go out in the lot again, and have somemore practice."

  "Back of Mrs. Peterkin's house?" asked Joe with a smile.

  "I should say not! But I've got a new scheme. I read about it in thatbaseball book. We'll have a contest for long distance throwing andaccuracy."

  "How do you mean?"

  "Why you and I'll go down in the same lots but we'll throw in the otherdirection. Then we can't hit anything. We'll see who can throw thefarthest. You'll need to practice that if you are to play centre field."

  "What's the other contest?"

  "For straight aim. I'll get an old basket, and we'll see who can landthe most balls in it. Want to try?"

  "Sure. Anything to improve myself," said Joe earnestly.

  A little later he and his chum were on their way to the vacant lots. Asthey walked along they met several other lads, some of whom played onthe regular team, a few from the High School nine, and some from theSilver Star scrub.

  "What's doing?" demanded Rodney Burke.

  "We're going to see who is the best thrower," answered Tom.

  "Give us a show at it?" requested Ford Wilson.

  "Sure," assented Joe. "The more, the merrier."

  Soon a jolly crowd of youngsters were taking turns at the long distancethrowing. After several tries the record lay between Joe and RodneyBurke, and they played off a tie, Joe winning by about seven feet.

  "That's a good throw all right," complimented the loser.

  "A fellow who's playing centre field needs to have a pretty good heave,"said Joe. "Especially if he's up against a heavy-hitting team."

  "And that's been our luck for some time past," spoke Tom. "Well, now forthe basket test."

  This was more difficult than straight throwing for distance and severalof the lads dropped out, being disqualified by failures. But Tom, Joeand Rodney remained in, and for a time it was pretty even between them.Finally it narrowed down to Tom and Joe, and they were just ready tothrow the deciding round when a new voice called out:

  "Any objections to me joining?"

  Joe and the others turned, to see the half-mocking face of Sam Morton.