Baseball Joe In The Central League Part 27

Joe was a bit nonplussed when Collin was sent in for the opening game.

But he knew Gregory had his reasons. And perhaps it was wise, for Collin was always at his best when he could deliver the first ball, and open the game.

Clevefield was shut out in the first inning, and, to the howling delight of the crowd of Pittston sympathizers and "fans," the home team got a run.

This gave the players much-needed confidence, and though the visitors managed to tie the score in their half of the second inning, Pittston went right after them, and got two more tallies.

"We're going to win, Joe!" cried Charlie Hall. "We're going to win. Our hoodoo is busted!"

"I hope so," said the young pitcher, wishing he had a chance to play.

It came sooner than he expected. Collin unexpectedly "blew up," and had to be taken out of the box. Joe was called on, at the proper time, and walked nervously to the mound. But he knew he must conquer this feeling and he looked at Nelson, who was catching. The back-stop smiled, and signalled for a fade-away, but Joe shook his head.

He was not quite ready for that ball yet.

By using straight, swift b.a.l.l.s, interspersed with ins and drops, he fooled the batter into striking out. The next man went out on a pop fly, and Joe teased the third man into striking at an elusive out.

Clevefield was retired runless and the ovation to Pittston grew.

But it was not all to be as easy as this. Joe found himself in a tight place, and then, with a catching of his breath, he signalled that he would use the fade-away.

In it shot--the batter smiled confidently--struck--and missed. He did it twice before he realized what was happening, and then when Joe felt sure that his next fade-away would be hit, he swiftly changed to an up-shoot that ended the matter.

Clevefield fought hard, and once when Joe was. .h.i.t for a long fly, that seemed good for at least two bases, Pop Dutton was just where he was most needed, and made a sensational catch.

There was a howl of delight, and Gregory said to Joe afterward:

"Your man is making good."

Joe was immensely pleased. And when, a little later, at a critical point in the game, he struck out the third man, again using his famous fade-away, his triumph was heralded in shouts and cries, for Pittston had won. It was a triumph for Joe in two ways--his own personal one, and in the fact that he had been instrumental in having Pop Dutton play--and Pop's one play, at least that day, saved a run that would have tied the score.

CHAPTER XXI

A DANGER SIGNAL

"Boys, we're on the right road again!" exclaimed the enthusiastic manager at the conclusion of the game, when the team was in the dressing room. "Another like this to-morrow, and one the next day, if it doesn't rain, and we'll be near the top."

"Say, you don't want much," remarked Jimmie Mack, half sarcastically, but with a laugh. "What do you think we are anyhow; wonders?"

"We'll have to be if we're going to bring home the pennant," retorted Gregory.

"And we're going to do it!" declared Joe, grimly.

Collin went to pieces in more ways than one that day. Probably his failure in the game, added to Joe's triumph, made him reckless, for he went back to his old habit of gambling, staying up nearly all night, and was in no condition to report for the second game of the series.

"He makes me tired!" declared Gregory. "I'd write his release in a minute," he went on, speaking to Jimmie Mack, "only I'm up to my neck in expenses now, and I can't afford to buy another pitcher. I need all I've got, and Collin is good when he wants to be."

"Yes, it's only his pig-headedness about Joe that sets him off. But I think we've got a great find in Matson."

"So do I. There was a time when I was rather blue about Joe, but he seems to have come back wonderfully."

"Yes," agreed Jimmie Mack, "that fade-away of his is a wonder, thanks to Pop Dutton."

"Pop himself is the greatest wonder of all," went on Gregory. "I never believed it possible. I've seen the contrary happen so many times that I guess I've grown skeptical."

"He and Joe sure do make a queer team," commented the a.s.sistant manager.

"Joe watches over him like a hen with one chicken."

"Well, I guess he has to. A man like Pop who has been off the right road always finds lots of temptation ready and waiting to call him back. But Joe can keep him straight.

"Now come over here. I want to talk to you, and plan out the rest of the season. We're in a bad way, not only financially, but for the sake of our reputations."

If Joe could have heard this he would have worried, especially about the financial end. For he counted very much on his baseball money--in fact, his family needed it greatly.

Mr. Matson's savings were tied up in investments that had turned out badly, or were likely to, and his expenses were heavy on account of the doctor's and other bills. Joe's salary was a big help. He also earned something extra by doing some newspaper work that was paid for generously.

But Joe counted most on the final games of the series, which would decide the pennant. These were always money-makers, and, in addition, the winning team always played one or more exhibition games with some big league nine, and these receipts were large.

"But will we win the pennant?" queried Joe of himself. "We've got to--if dad is going to have his operation. We've just got to!"

The news from home had been uncertain. At one time Dr. Birch had decided that an operation must be performed at once, and then had come a change when it had to be delayed. But it seemed certain that, sooner or later, it would have to be undertaken, if the inventor's eyesight was to be saved.

"So you see we've just got to win," said Joe to Charlie Hall.

"I see," was the answer. "Well, I'll do my share toward it, old man,"

and the two clasped hands warmly. Joe was liking Charlie more and more every day. He was more like a college chum than a mate on a professional team.

But Pittston was not to have a victory in the second game with Clevefield. The latter sent in a new pitcher who "played tag," to use a slang expression, with Joe and his mates, and they lost the contest by a four to one score. This in spite of the fact that Joe did some good work at pitching, and "Old Pop," as he was beginning to be called, knocked a three-bagger. Dutton was one of those rare birds, a good pitcher and a good man with the stick. That is, he had been, and now he was beginning to come back to himself.

There was a shadow of gloom over Pittston when they lost the second game, after having won the first against such odds, and there was much speculation as to how the other two contests would go.

Gregory revised his batting order for the third game, and sent in his latest purchase, one of the south-paws, to do the twirling. But he soon made a change in pitchers, and called on Tooley, who also was a left-hander.

"I may need you later, Joe," he said as he arranged to send in a "pinch"

hitter at a critical moment. "Don't think that I'm slighting you, boy."

"I don't. I understand."

"How's your fade-away?"

"All right, I guess."

"Good. You'll probably have to use it."

And Joe did. He was sent in at the seventh, when the Clevefield nine was three runs ahead, and Joe stopped the slump. Then, whether it was this encouragement, or whether the other team went to pieces, did not develop, but the game ended with Pittston a winner by two runs.

The crowd went wild, for there had been a most unexpected ending, and so sure had some of the "fans" been that the top-notchers would come out ahead, that they had started to leave.