IN THE DEPTHS
The story had a ring of sincerity that was not without its appeal to
Joe. Still, he knew that some of the most plausible stories are told
by the worst of crooks, and before accepting it fully he determined to
make some investigations on his own account.
“Dallas is a long way from here,” he remarked, as he eyed the two men
keenly. “What makes you think the federal agents are looking for you?”
“Because we know some of the men that are in the Dallas branch,”
replied Jackwell, “and on several occasions we’ve seen one or more of
them at the Polo Grounds and at other fields on the circuit.”
“That doesn’t say they’re looking for you,” said Joe. “I suppose all
of them take in a game when they get a chance. Besides,” he went on,
as another thought struck him, “if they really wanted you, it would be
no trick to get you. Your names appear in the papers in the scores of
the game every day. Every one that follows the game knows Jackwell and
Bowen.”
“True enough,” admitted Jackwell, a little shamefacedly. “But, as a
matter of fact, we didn’t go by our own names while in Dallas. You
see we thought the rest of the baseball players would think that we
were kind of hard up to be working in the season when most of them are
resting. I can see now that it was a foolish sort of feeling. But,
as Ben said, actors and actresses don’t go by their right names, and
authors use names that are not their own, and we had as much right to
do it as they had.”
“I suppose you had,” admitted Joe. “Though in business I think it’s a
mistake not to go under your own name. What names did you go by?”
“Dan was Miller and I was Thompson,” put in Bowen, who up to now had
let Jackwell do most of the talking. “So you see they don’t know
Jackwell and Bowen, but they might recognize our faces, just the same.
I suppose they have descriptions of us, and that’s the reason we hate
to go on the field when we see they’re around.”
“And why you pull your caps down over your faces when you do go out,”
added Joe. “Well, boys, I’m glad you’ve told me what’s been bothering
you. Perhaps the very telling will take some of the load off your mind.
For the present, I’m going to take your word for it that you didn’t
knowingly do any wrong. But I tell you frankly that I’m going to have
the matter looked up, and if you haven’t told me the truth, you’ll have
to get off the team. McRae won’t have any one on the Giants that isn’t
as white as a hound’s tooth, as far as character is concerned.
“But in the meantime, you’ve got to play ball. We can’t let your
personal troubles interfere with the success of the Giants. There’s
been many a time when I’ve had a load of trouble on my mind, but I’ve
played ball just the same. The chances are that you’re magnifying this
thing, anyway. You don’t really know that there are any warrants out
for you at all. You say you heard there were, but the chances are that
if there were they’d have nabbed you before you heard anything about
the warrants. Those government fellows don’t hire a brass band to let
you know they’re coming. Perhaps you’re tormenting yourselves about
something that never happened. And even if it did, the agents have lots
of bigger cases to look after, and they may have forgotten that you’re
alive. But whether they have or not, the thing that interests me just
now as captain of the Giants, is whether or not you fellows are going
to play the game. How about it?”
“I will, Mr. Matson,” said Jackwell, with decision. “I’m going to put
this thing out of my mind and play the game for all it’s worth.”
“Count me in on that,” declared Bowen, with emphasis.
“That’s the stuff!” returned Joe. “Just remember that the coward
dies a thousand deaths while the brave man dies only once. Half the
troubles that worry us in life are those that never happen. Now forget
everything but that you’re ball-players, that as honest men you owe
your best services to the team, and that the Giants have got to win the
flag this year. That’s all for now.”
The results of this heart-to-heart talk were not long in coming. Both
Jackwell and Bowen seemed to brace up wonderfully. The former took
in everything that came his way and made plays that seemed almost
impossible. Bowen ranged the outer garden in first-class style and put
Wheeler and Curry on their mettle to keep up with him.
The brace that they had taken was not long in communicating itself to
other members of the team, and the Giants began to come out of their
slump. A stern chase is proverbially a long chase, and it proved so in
this case, for the Pirates and the Chicagos had made hay while the sun
shone, and had piled up a commanding lead. But the case, though hard,
was not yet desperate, and the Giants had not relinquished hope of
coming out ultimately at the head of the heap.
As Joe had promised himself, he looked up the Dallas matter. He had
fully made up his mind that if the men had been guilty of crookedness
they would have to get off the team. He would miss their playing
sorely, and would have all kinds of trouble in plugging up the holes
that would be left by their departure, but anything was better than a
scandal that would damage the game. Of course, the ultimate decision
would be made by McRae, but Joe knew his manager well enough to feel
sure that he would be in accord with him in this matter.
Joe got in touch with a lawyer, who in turn communicated confidentially
with a Dallas law firm, asking it to make inquiries in the oil-well
case and find out whether there had been any warrants or indictments
out for men named Miller and Thompson, and if so, to find out the exact
charges on which the instruments were based.
A week or so elapsed before a reply was received. Joe tore the letter
open eagerly and ran his eyes over the contents. Then he gave a shout
of exultation and brought his hand down on his knee with a resounding
slap.
“What’s the matter?” asked Jim, looking up in some surprise. “Any one
left you a million dollars?”
“Not exactly that,” laughed Joe. “But I’ve just learned something that
makes me feel mighty good, just the same.”
His elation was caused by these words in the letter:
“In re Miller and Thompson, we beg to report that there were
no warrants or indictments handed down for these men in the
Bromley case. Investigation convinced officials that they had
no guilty knowledge of the fraud. The only documents connected
with them were subpœnas calling them as witnesses before the
Grand Jury. Their testimony was not needed, however, as a
true bill was found against Bromley, who is an international
swindler with many aliases. He is believed to have fled to
Mexico. A reward of five thousand dollars is offered for his
capture.”
“Maybe this won’t be good news for Jackwell and Bowen,” chuckled Joe,
as he folded up the letter.