THE HARDEST BATTLE
Filled to overflowing were the big bleachers. Crowded were the
grandstands. Above the noise made by the incoming elevated trains, and
the tramp of thousands of feet along the boarded run-ways leading to the
big concrete Brush Stadium at the Polo Grounds, could be heard the
shrill voices of the vendors of peanuts, bottled ginger ale and ice
cream cones.
Out on the perfect diamond, laid out as though with rule and compass,
men in white and other men in darker uniforms were practicing. Balls
were being caught, other balls were being batted.
It was a sunny, perfect day, hot enough to make fast playing possible,
and yet with a refreshing breeze.
"Well, Joe, are we going to win?" asked Rad, as he and his chum went to
the bench after their warm-up work.
"I don't know," answered the young pitcher slowly. "They're a hard team
to beat."
It was the final game between the Giants and the Cardinals. To win it
meant for the St. Louis team that they would reach third place. And if
they did get third position, it was practically certain that they could
keep it, for their closing games in St. Louis were with the tail-enders
of the league.
"Are you going to pitch, Joe?"
"I don't know that, either. Haven't heard yet," was the answer.
Just then a messenger came up to Joe.
"There's somebody in that box," he said, indicating one low down, and
just back of home plate, "who wants to speak to you."
Joe looked around, and a delighted look came over his face as he saw his
father and mother, Clara, and one other.
"Mabel!" exclaimed Joe, and then he hurried over.
"Say, this is great!" he cried, with sparkling eyes. "I didn't know you
folks were coming," and he kissed his mother and sister, and wished--but
there! I said I wouldn't tell secrets.
"Your father found he had some business in New York," explained Mrs.
Matson, "so we thought we would combine pleasure with it, and see you
play."
"And they looked me up, and brought me along," added Mabel. "I just
happened to be in town. Now we want to see you win, Joe!"
"I don't even know that I'll play," he said, wistfully.
Joe felt that he could bide his time, and yet he did long to be the one
to open the game, as it was an important one, and a record-breaking
crowd was on hand to see it.
But it was evident that Manager Watson's choice of a pitcher must be
changed. It needed but two innings to demonstrate that, for the Giants
got four hits and three runs off Slim Cooney, who, most decidedly, was
not in form.
The substitution of a batter was made, and the manager nodded at Joe.
"You'll pitch!" he said, grimly. "And I want you to win!"
"And I want to," replied Joe, as he thought of those in the box watching
him.
It was to be Baseball Joe's hardest battle. Opposed to him on the mound
for the Giants was a pitcher of world-wide fame, a veteran, well-nigh
peerless, who had won many a hard-fought game.
I might describe that game to you in detail, but I will confine myself
to Joe's efforts, since it is in him we are most interested. I might
tell of the desperate chances the Cardinals took to gain runs, and of
the exceptionally good stick work they did, against the redoubtable
pitcher of the Giants.
For a time this pitcher held his opponents to scattering hits. Then, for
a fatal moment, he went up in the air. It was a break that was at once
taken advantage of by the Cardinals. They slammed out two terrific hits,
and, as there were men on bases, the most was made of them. Two wild
throws, something exceptional for the Giants, added to the luck, and
when the excitement was over the Cardinals had tied the game.
"Oh, wow!"
"Now, we've got 'em going!"
"Only one run to win, boys!"
"Hold 'em down, Joe!"
Thus came the wild cries from the stands. Excitement was at its height.
There was a hasty consultation between the peerless pitcher and the
veteran catcher. They had gone up in the air, but now they were down to
earth again. From then on, until the beginning of the ninth inning, the
Cardinals did not cross home plate, and they got very few hits. It was a
marvelous exhibition of ball twirling.
But if the Giant pitcher did well, Joe did even better, when you
consider that he was only rounding out his first season in a big league,
and that he was up against a veteran of national fame, the announcement
that he was going to be in the game being sufficient to attract a large
throng.
"Good work, old man! Good work!" called Boswell, when Joe came to the
bench one inning, after having allowed but one hit. "Can you keep it
up?"
"I--I hope so."
It was a great battle--a hard battle. The Giants worked every trick they
knew to gain another run, but the score remained a tie. Goose egg after
goose egg went up on the score board. The ninth inning had started with
the teams still even.
"We've just _got_ to get that run!" declared Manager Watson. "We've just
_got_ to get it. Joe, you are to bat first. See if you can't get a hit!"
Pitchers are proverbially weak hitters. One ingenious theory for it is
that they are so used to seeing the ball shooting away from them, and
toward the batter, that, when the positions are reversed, and they see
the ball coming toward them they get nervous.
"Ball!" was the umpire's first decision in Joe's favor. The young
pitcher was rather surprised, for he knew the prowess of his opponent.
And then Joe decided on what might have proved to be a foolish thing.
"I'm going to think that the next one will be a swift, straight one, and
I'm going to dig in my spikes and set for it," he decided. And he did.
He made a beautiful hit, and amid the wild yells of the crowd he
started for first. He beat the ball by a narrow margin, and was declared
safe.
A pinch hitter was up next, and amid a breathless silence he was
watched. But the peerless pitcher was taking no chances, and walked him,
thinking to get Joe later.
But he did not. For, as luck would have it, Rad Chase made the hit of
his life, a three-bagger, and with the crowd going wild, two runs came
in, giving the Cardinals the game, if they could hold the Giants down.
And it was up to Joe to do this. Could he?
As Joe walked to the mound, for that last momentous inning, he glanced
toward the box where his parents, sister and Mabel sat. A little hand
was waved to him, and Joe waved back. Then he faced his first man.
"Thud!" went the ball in Doc Mullin's big mitt.
"Ball!" droned the umpire.
"Thud!" went another. The batter stood motionless.
"Strike!"
The batter indignantly tapped the rubber.
"Crack!"
"You can't get it!" yelled the crowd, as the ball shot up in a foul.
The umpire tossed a new ball to Joe, for the other had gone too far
away to get back speedily.
Joe wet the horsehide, and sent it drilling in. The batter made a slight
motion, as though to hit it, but refrained:
"Strike! You're out!" said the umpire, stolidly.
"Why, that ball was----"
"You're out!" and the umpire waved him aside, impatiently.
Joe grinned in delight.
But when he saw the next man, "Home Run Crater," facing him, our hero
felt a little shaky. True, the chances were in favor of the Cardinals,
but baseball is full of chances that make or break.
"If he wallops it!" thought Joe.
But Crater did not wallop it. In his characteristic manner he swung at
the first delivery, and connected with it. Over Joe's head it was going,
but with a mighty jump Joe corraled it in one hand, a sensational catch
that set the crowd wild. Joe was playing the game of his life.
"Only one more!"
"Strike him out!"
"The game is ours, Joe!"
But another heavy hitter was up, and there was still work for Baseball
Joe to do.
To his alarm, as he sent in his first ball, there came to his arm that
had been twisted on the car, a twinge of pain.
"My! I hope that doesn't bother me," thought Joe, in anxiety.
"Ball one," announced the umpire.
Joe delivered a straight, swift one. His arm hurt worse, and he gritted
his teeth to keep from crying out.
"Strike!" grunted the umpire, and there was some balm for Joe in that.
The batter hit the next one for a dribbler, and just managed to reach
first.
"If I could only have managed to get him out!" mused Joe. "I'd be done
now. But I've got to do it over again. I wonder if I can last out?"
To his relief the next batter up was one of the weakest of the Giants,
and Joe was glad. And even yet a weak batter might make a hit that would
turn the tables.
"I've got to do it!" murmured Joe, and he wound up for the delivery.
"Strike!" announced the umpire. Joe's heart beat hard.
"Here goes for the fadeaway," he said to himself, "though it will hurt
like fun!"
It did, bringing a remembrance of the old hurt. But it fooled the
batter, and there were two strikes on him.
The game was all but over. With two out, and two strikes called, there
could be but one result, unless there was to be something that occurs
but once in a lifetime. And it did not occur.
"Strike! You're out!" was the umpire's decision, and that was the end.
The Cardinals had won, thanks, in a great measure, to Joe Matson's
splendid work.
"That's the stuff!"
"Third place for ours!"
"Three cheers for Joe Matson--Baseball Joe!" called his teammates, who
crowded around him to clap him on the back and say all sorts of nice
things. Joe stood it, blushingly, for a moment, and then he made his way
over to the box. As he walked along, a certain quiet man who had been
intently watching the game said softly to himself.
"He must be mine next season. I guess I can make a trade for him. He'd
be a big drawing card for the Giants."
"Oh, Joe, it was splendid! Splendid!" cried Mabel, enthusiastically.
"Fine!" said his father.
"Do you get any extra when your side wins?" asked his mother, while the
crowd smiled.
"Well, yes, in a way," answered Joe. "You get treated extra well."
"And it's going to be my treat this time," said Mabel, with a laugh. "I
want you all to come to dinner with me. You'll come; won't you, Joe?"
she asked, pleadingly.
"Of course," he said.
"And bring a friend, if you like," and she glanced at Clara.
"I'll bring Rad," Joe answered.
They lived the great game over again at the table of the hotel where
Mable was stopping.
"Is your arm lame?" asked Mrs. Matson, noticing that her son favored his
pitching member a trifle.
"Oh, I can finish out the season," said Joe. "The remainder will be
easy--only a few more games."
"And then what?" asked Rad.
"Well, a vacation, I suppose, and then get ready for another season with
the Cardinals."
But Joe was not destined to remain with the Western team. The horizon
was widening, and those of you who wish to follow further the adventures
of our hero may do so in the succeeding volume, which will be called
"Baseball Joe on the Giants; Or, Making Good as a Ball Twirler in the
Metropolis."
In that we shall see how Joe rose to even higher fame, through grit,
hard work and ability.
"Well, you turned the trick, old man!" declared Manager Watson, when, a
few days later, the team was on the way back to St. Louis. "You did it.
I felt sure you could."
"Well, _I_ didn't, at one time," was the rejoinder. "My arm started to
go back on me."
"Well, there's one consolation, Shalleg and his crowd will never get
another chance at you," went on the manager. "Now take care of yourself.
I'm only going to let you play one game--the closing one at St. Louis.
We won't need our stars against the tail-enders."
And the Cardinals did not, winning handily with a number of second
string men playing.
"Where are you going, Joe?" asked Rad, as they sat in their hotel room
one evening, for Joe was "dolling up."
"Out to a moving picture show."
"Moving pictures?"
"Yes. That film of the exhibition game we played in Philadelphia is
being shown in town. Come on up."
"Sure," assented Rad; and as they went out together we will take leave
of Baseball Joe.
THE END
* * * * *
BOOKS BY LESTER CHADWICK
THE COLLEGE SPORTS SERIES 12mo. Cloth. Illustrated
THE RIVAL PITCHERS
A Story of College Baseball
A QUARTER-BACK'S PLUCK
A Story of College Football
BATTING TO WIN
A Story of College Baseball
THE WINNING TOUCHDOWN
A Story of College Football
THE EIGHT-OARED VICTORS
A Story of College Water Sports
THE BASEBALL JOE SERIES
_12mo. Illustrated. Price 50 cents per volume.
Postage 10 cents additional._
[Illustration: BASEBALL JOE PITCHING WIZARD
LESTER CHADWICK]
1. BASEBALL JOE OF THE SILVER STARS
_or The Rivals of Riverside_
2. BASEBALL JOE ON THE SCHOOL NINE
_or Pitching for the Blue Banner_
3. BASEBALL JOE AT YALE
_or Pitching for the College Championship_
4. BASEBALL JOE IN THE CENTRAL LEAGUE
_or Making Good as a Professional Pitcher_
5. BASEBALL JOE IN THE BIG LEAGUE
_or A Young Pitcher's Hardest Struggles_
6. BASEBALL JOE ON THE GIANTS
_or Making Good as a Twirler in the Metropolis_
7. BASEBALL JOE IN THE WORLD SERIES
_or Pitching for the Championship_
8. BASEBALL JOE AROUND THE WORLD
_or Pitching on a Grand Tour_
9. BASEBALL JOE: HOME RUN KING
_or The Greatest Pitcher and Batter on Record_
10. BASEBALL JOE SAVING THE LEAGUE
_or Breaking Up a Great Conspiracy_
11. BASEBALL JOE CAPTAIN OF THE TEAM
_or Bitter Struggles on the Diamond_
12. BASEBALL JOE CHAMPION OF THE LEAGUE
_or The Record that was Worth While_
13. BASEBALL JOE CLUB OWNER
_or Putting the Home Town on the Map_
14. BASEBALL JOE PITCHING WIZARD
_or Triumphs Off and On the Diamond_
_Send for Our Free Illustrated Catalogue._
CHAMPION SPORTS STORIES
By NOEL SAINSBURY, JR.
_Every boy enjoys sport stories. Here we present three crackerjack
stories of baseball, football, and basketball, written in the vernacular
of the boy of to-day, full of action, suspense and thrills, in language
every boy will understand, and which we know will be enthusiastically
endorsed by all boys._
_Large 12mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Jacket in color.
Price 50 cents per volume._
_Postage 10 cents additional_
[Illustration: CRACKER STANTON]
1. CRACKER STANTON _Or The Making of a Batsman_
Ralph Stanton, big, rawboned and serious, is a product of the backwoods
and a crack rifle shot. Quick thinking and pluck bring him a scholarship
to Clarkville School where he is branded "grind" and "dub" by
classmates. How his batting brings them first place in the League and
how he secures his appointment to West Point make CRACKER STANTON an
up-to-the-minute baseball story no lover of the game will want to put
down until the last word is read.
2. GRIDIRON GRIT _Or The Making of a Fullback_
A corking story of football packed full of exciting action and good,
clean competitive rivalry. Shorty Fiske is six-foot-four and the product
of too much money and indulgence at home. How Clarkville School and
football develop Shorty's real character and how he eventually stars on
the gridiron brings this thrilling tale of school life and football to a
grandstand finish.
3. THE FIGHTING FIVE _Or the Kidnapping of Clarkville's Basketball Team_
Clarkville School's basketball team is kidnapped during the game for the
State Scholastic Championship. The team's subsequent adventures under
the leadership of Captain Charlie Minor as he brings them back to the
State College Gymnasium where the two last quarters of the Championship
game are played next evening, climaxes twenty-four pulsating hours of
adventure and basketball in the FIGHTING FIVE....
CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY, Publishers New York
End of Project Gutenberg's Baseball Joe in the Big League, by Lester Chadwick