CHAPTER II
A FEARFUL SITUATION
There was a general gasp of horror mixed with unbelief.
"What do you mean?" demanded Sam Berry.
"Where did you get that yarn?" asked Ed Wilson.
"It's true," declared the boy. "The whole town's hunting for him. He raninto Mrs. Bilkins' house and snatched the baby from the cradle. The manwas bareheaded and didn't have any coat. Mrs. Bilkins ran after him,screaming, but she couldn't catch him and----"
But the rest of the lad's story fell on deaf ears. Joe and Tom andthe others had already slipped into their coats, and now they pouredpell-mell out of the door, each of them eager to be first on the sceneand rescue the kidnapped baby before the madman could do it harm.
They all knew and liked Bilkins, who was a bright young fellow employedin the Harvester works. Three years before he had married and broughthis bride to a pretty little cottage at the southern edge of the town.Their one baby was now nearly a year old and of course the young parentswere wrapt up in him.
Joe and his sister Clara had often spent a pleasant evening at theBilkins home, and the heart of the young pitcher was hot within him ashe raced in that direction, while his sympathy gave wings to his feet.
A light snow had fallen and this would have been of some assistance intracing the marauder, but so many people had by this time joined in thehunt that many trails led in as many different directions.
Joe and Tom were circling wildly around, like hounds trying to pick up alost scent, when a little fellow ran up to them.
"I saw him!" he cried, "a big, tall man carrying a baby! He was goingdown to the lumber yard."
Like a flash Joe turned and headed the crowd that rushed in thedirection pointed out.
And while he is thus racing along, it may be well, for the benefit ofthose who are not yet acquainted with this clever young pitcher, tomention the previous books of this series in which "Baseball Joe," as hewas affectionately known, has taken a leading part.
The beginning of his career on the diamond is told in the first volumeof the series, entitled: "Baseball Joe of the Silver Stars; Or, TheRivals of Riverside." Here Joe had his first real experience in thebox. He had to fight hard to make good, but he did it, and soon becamewidely known in that section as one of the best of the amateur pitchers.There were many things that sought to hinder him, but he worked like aTrojan and brought his team to the front.
In "Baseball Joe on the School Nine," we find Joe in that same grittyway of his "making" the school team. There were rivalries here of adifferent kind than he had met before, and the bully of the schoolsucceeded for a time in making things very unpleasant. But Joe had the"class" as a ball player that was bound to make itself felt, and in agreat crisis he rose to the emergency and at the last moment broughtvictory from defeat.
From Excelsior Hall, Joe went to Yale, and his career in the greatuniversity is told in the third volume of the series called "BaseballJoe at Yale; Or, Pitching for the College Championship."
Traditions are very strong at Yale and one of them that is seldom brokenis that no Freshman shall play on a 'Varsity Team. No matter how good heis, he has to win his spurs first on his class team before he can aspireto the ranks of the 'Varsity. Joe had to undergo his apprenticeship,and a hard one it was. But his light could not be kept under a bushel,and by sheer force of merit he finally captured the attention of theleaders in athletics. A combination of circumstances put it up to himto pitch for Yale against Princeton in the deciding game of the seasonat the Polo Grounds, and although the test was a severe one the "Yalebulldog" scored a glorious victory over the "Princeton tiger."
But, despite the successes he had won, Joe was not altogether happy atYale. His good mother wanted him to study to be a minister, but, whileJoe appreciated what a noble calling it was, he did not feel himself cutout for a preacher. Though bright enough in his studies, he was not anatural scholar. Outdoor life had strong attractions for him, and hislove for baseball combined with his natural abilities in that directionmade him feel strongly inclined to take up professional baseball as hisregular vocation.
His mother was grieved and almost shocked by this decision of his.She had longed to see her boy in the pulpit, and she had the mistakenfeeling, shared by many good women, that there was something that wasalmost disreputable in being a professional ball player. But Joe was soearnest in his conviction that it was better to be a good ball playerthan a poor professional man, whether doctor, lawyer or minister, thathis mother was reluctantly won over to his view.
Joe's chance was not long in coming. That last great game he pitchedfor Yale had been seen by Jimmie Mack, manager of the Pittston team ofthe Central League. He scented an acquisition for his nine and made Joean offer that was too good to reject. His struggles and triumphs in thatleague are told in the fourth volume of the series called "Baseball Joein the Central League; Or, Making Good as a Professional Pitcher."
But Joe's ambition kept pace with his progress. He was not satisfiedto be merely a "minor leaguer." He dreamed of "making" one of the "BigLeagues"--National or American, it did not matter which--but he knew howhard it was for a minor to break in. His delight can be imagined thenwhen he learned that he had been drafted into the St. Louis club of theNational League. His stirring adventures in this new field are narratedin the fifth volume of the series entitled: "Baseball Joe in the BigLeague; Or, A Young Pitcher's Hardest Struggles." Hard struggles indeedthey had proved to be, but the same determination that had won for himso far carried him triumphantly through these also, and he had had thesatisfaction of helping his team finish in the first division. From a"second string" pitcher he now stood among the first, and his name hadbecome well known all over the country.
He had been very tired when he came back to the old home town to spendthe winter, and the rest had never seemed more grateful to him. But nowhe was expecting very soon the call of his team to go with them to asouthern training camp, to prepare for the coming season, and for sometime past he had been faithfully training in the Riverside gymnasium,where we found him when this story opened.
He was a fast and seasoned runner--any one in a big league has to be, orhe would not last long--but it seemed to him he had never run as fastand hard as now when he was rushing toward the lumber yard. He knew thatwhat was to be done had to be done quickly. And he shuddered, as hethought of the helpless baby in the grasp of a lunatic.
He had soon outdistanced his companions. Now he was getting close tothe lumber yard. It was in an isolated section of the town, down nearthe railroad tracks which ran alongside of it. Here there were but fewfootmarks, and Joe could easily make out the long prints of a man's feetpointing straight for the yard.
Another minute and Joe had entered the yard. He wound his way in and outamong the piles of lumber, hoping at every turn to catch sight of themadman.
Suddenly he heard a shout that came from somewhere above him. He lookedup and saw a sight that seemed to turn his blood cold.
There, on an enormous pile of lumber that towered thirty feet into theair, stood a man holding a baby in his arms. He had caught sight ofJoe and hailed him as though he wanted to have a talk with him. Butjust then a torrent of men, young and old, who had followed Joe, pouredinto the yard, and a yell went up as they saw the tall figure outlinedagainst the sky.
In that wild yell the madman scented danger. He lifted his helplessburden high above his head.
"Keep back!" he shouted. "If you don't I'll throw the baby on therailroad tracks!"