Lester Chadwick.

Baseball Joe in the world series; or, Pitching for the championship online

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"Some bad pitching, I don't think!"
But Joe had had too much experience to be
betrayed into any undue elation. There were
eight innings more to come and in that time many
things might happen.



Not a bit dismayed by their unpromising be^
ginning, the Red Sox took the field, and speedily
showed that they too could uncork a brand of
pitching that was not to be despised.

The best that Burkett could do was to raise a
"Texas Leaguer" that Berry gobbled in without
any trouble. Larry chopped an easy one to Gird-
ner, who got him at first with plenty to spare.
Denton dribbled a slow roller that Fraser gath-
ered in on the first base line, tagging the runner as
he passed.

And now it was the turn of the Boston enthu-
siasts, of whom thousands had made the trip to
see their favorites play, to yell frantically for the
Red Sox.

Joe realized at once that he had a foeman in
Fraser who was worthy of his steel, and knew that
all his skill and cunning would he required to win.

For the next two innings the sides were mowed
down with unfailing regularity, and not a man on
either side reached first base. It looked as though



the game were going to resolve itself into a pitch-
ers' duel, and the crowds were breathless with
excitement as batter after batter was sent to the

The Giants broke the ice in the fourth. Burkett
scorched a single to right, and by daring base-
running stretched it to a double, as Cooper was
slow in making the return. Barrett sacrificed him
to third. Fraser put on steam and fanned Denton
on strikes. Then Willis came to the rescue with
a sizzling hit just inside the third base line, and
Burkett came galloping over the plate with the
first run of the game.

The crowd rose and cheered wildly, and the
Giants from their dugout threw their caps in the
air and gathered around Burkett in jubilation. It
was only one run, but the way the game was going
that run looked as big* as a mountain.

Willis was caught napping off first by a snap
throw from Thompson to Hobbs, and the inning

The fifth was devoid of scoring, but in the
sixth the Bostons not only tied the Giants but
passed them.

Loomis, the crack left fielder of the visitors,
started the trouble with a sharp hit to Larry, who
"booted" the ball, letting Loomis get to first.
Hobbs lay down a bunt on which Joe had no time
to get Loomis at second, though he tossed out


Hobbs at first. Walters lined out the first clean
hit that the Red Sox had made so far in the game.
If it had been properly played and taken on the
bound, it could have been held to a single. But
Becker made a mistake in thinking that he could
make a fly catch. The ball struck the ground in
front of him, bounded over his head and rolled
to the further corner of the field. Before it could
be recovered, Walters had made the circuit of the
bases, following Loomis over the plate, and the
Red Sox were in the lead by two runs to one.

The Boston rooters started their marching song
of "Tessie," while the New Yorkers sat glum and

Joe tightened up and struck out the two fol-
lowing batters in jig time, but it looked as though
the mischief had been done.

''Don't let that worry you, Joe," counseled
McRae, as he came in to the bench. "You're
pitching like a Gatling gun. That's the first hit
they've got off you in six innings and it ought to
have been a single only. We'll beat 'em yet."

"Sure we will," answered Joe, cheerfully.
"We've only begun to fight."

At the beginning of the "lucky seventh," the
crowd rose and stretched in the fond hope that it
would bring the necessary luck for their favor-

The omen might have worked, had it not been


for a dazzling bit of play on the part of the Bos-

Their own half had been fruitless. Joe was
pitching now like a man inspired, and his bewild-
ering curves and slants had made the Boston slug-
gers look like "bushers."

In the Giants' half, Joe was the first man up
and he laced out a hot liner between second and
short that carried him easily to first. Mylert hit
to short and Joe was forced at second, though
Berry relayed the ball to Hobbs too late for a
double play. A wild pitch, the only one of the
game, advanced Mylert a base. Burkett received
a pass. Now there was a man on first, another on
second, and rousing cheers came from the stands.
There was only one man out, Fraser was evidently
getting wild, and it looked as though New York
might score.

The Boston infield moved in for a double play.
And it looked for a moment as though they would
make it. Larry hit to short, and a groan went up.
But the hit was so sharp that Stock could not
handle it cleanly, and, though he succeeded in get-
ting Burkett at second Larry reached first safely
while Mylert raced to third.

It was a time for desperate measures, and
McRae gave the signal for a double steal. The
moment Fraser wound up, Larry started for sec-
ond, not with a design of reaching it, but hoping


to draw a throw from the catcher, under cover of
which Mylert might scamper home from third.
If he could touch the plate before Larry was put
out, the run would count and the score be tied.

Thompson threw like a shot to Berry at sec-
ond. But instead of chasing Larry, who had
stopped midway between first and second, he kept
threatening to throw to third and catch Mylert,
who was taking as big a lead toward home as he
dared. After playing hide and seek for a moment,
Berry thought he saw a chance to nip Mylert and
threw to Girdner at third. But the ball touched
the tips of his fingers and got past him, and Mylert
started for home.

A howl of exultation went up from the throng.
Then it died away as suddenly as it had risen.

Girdner, chasing the ball, slipped as he went to
pick it up. Lying on the grass, he made a des-
perate throw in the direction of the plate. It
went high, but Thompson made a tremendous
jump, pulled it down and clapped it on Mylert
just as he slid into the rubber.

"Out," yelled the umpire.

It was as classy a play as any of the spectators
had ever seen, and even the New Yorkers, sore as
they were at losing the run, joined generously in
the applause that greeted it.

"That fellow Girdner must have a rabbit's foot
about him somewhere," remarked Robson to


McRae with a twisted smile. "He couldn't do
that thing again in a thousand years."

"A few more things like that and the crowd
will die of heart disease or nervous prostration,"
answered McRae. "But they can't have all the
breaks. Just watch. Our turn will be coming

But nothing happened in the eighth to change
the score, and the ninth opened with the Red Sox
still in the lead.

That the Red Sox would not score again was
as nearly certain as anything can be in baseball.
Joe, as cool as an icicle, was going at top speed.
They simply could not touch his offerings.

But as the visitors went back in one, two, three
order, they consoled themselves with the thought
that they did not have to do any more scoring.
They were already ahead, and if Fraser could hold
their opponents down for one more inning, the
game was theirs.

But Fraser had about reached his limit. He
could not stand the gaff as sturdily as Joe. With
the exception of that one wild spell, he had
pitched superbly, but the terrific strain was be-
ginning to tell.

His first two pitches went as balls, and McRae,
whose eagle eyes saw signs of wavering, signaled
Becker, who was at the bat, to "wait him out."

The advice proved good, and Becker trotted


down to first where he immediately began to
dance about and yell, hoping to draw a throw
which in the pitcher's nervous condition might go

The Red Sox players shouted encouragement
to their pitcher, and the catcher walked down to
the box on the pretense of advice but really to
give him time to recover himself.

No doubt this helped, for Fraser braced up and
made Iredell put up a towering foul, which
Thompson caught after a long run.

Joe came next and cracked out a pretty single
between short and second. Becker tried to make
third on it, but a magnificent throw by Walters
nipped him at the bag. But in the mix-up, Joe, by
daring running, got to second.

With two out, a long hit would tie the game,
anyway, and carry it into extra innings.

Fraser seemed to waver again and gave My-
lert his base on balls. Then big Burkett, the head
of the batting order, strode to the plate.

Amid frantic adjurations from the crowd to
"kill the ball," he caught the second one pitched
and sent a screaming liner far out toward the right
field wall.

Cooper, the fleet Red Sox right fielder, had
started for it at the crack of the bat. On, on he
went, running like a deer.

Thirty-five thousand people were on their feet,


yelling like maniacs, while Joe, Mylert and Burk-
ett raced round the bases.

Ball and man reached the wall at the same in-
stant. The gallant player leaped high in the air.
But the ball just touched the tips of his fingers
and rolled away, while Joe and Mylert dented the
rubber, Burkett halting when he reached second.

Then the crowd went crazy.

The game was over. It had been a battle royal,
but the Giants had vanquished the Red Sox, and
had taken their first stride toward the champion-
ship of the world.



Baseball Joe waited just long enough to wave
his cap at the box in which his party sat, and then
raced with his companions to the clubhouse be-
fore the crowd that was rushing down over the
field should overwhelm them.

Mabel turned towards Mrs. Matson, who had
been watching the game with the most intense in-
terest and yet with a sense of complete bewilder-
ment. The intricacies of the game were new to
her, but she knew that her boy had won, and at
the applause showered upon him her fond heart
swelled with motherly pride.

"What do you think of that son of yours now?"
Mabel asked gaily. "Didn't I tell you he was
going to win?"

"It was j-just wonderful," replied Mrs. Matson,
reaching for her handkerchief to stay the happy
tears that had not been far from her eyes all
through the game.

Mr. Matson had renewed his youth, and his


eyes were shining like a boy's. Clara clapped her
hands and laughed almost hysterically.

u Oh, oh, oh!" she cried. "And he's my

Mabel laughed and gave her a little affectionate

4 T don't wonder that you're proud of him," she
said. Joe would have been glad to hear the slight
tremble in her voice.

In the clubhouse there was, of course, a mighty
celebration. A lead of one game in such a series
as that promised to be was, as "Robbie" exultantly
said, "not to be sneezed at." Now they would
have to win only three more to be sure of the flag,
while the Red Sox needed to take four.

And yet, despite the victory, there was no un-
due boasting or elation. They had not won by any
such margin as to justify too rosy a view of the
future. The Red Sox had fought for the game
tooth and nail, and at various stages a hair would
have turned the balance one way or the other.
The Bostons were an enemy to be dreaded, and a
profound respect for their opponents had been im-
planted in the Giants' breasts.

Besides, McRae knew that he had "played his
ace" in putting Joe into the box. He had no
pitcher of equal rank to bring out on the morrow,
while at least two of the Red Sox boxmen were
quite as high as Fraser in quality.


"You did splendidly to-day, Matson," said
McRae to Joe, clapping him jovially on the

"I'm glad we won," responded Joe. "But that
Fraser is no slouch when it comes to putting them


"He's a crackerjack," the manager admitted.
"But you topped him all the way through. We
raked him for seven hits, though he kept them
pretty well scattered. But they only got to you
for three, and one of them was a scratch. And he
was wobbly twice, while you only gave one pass."

"That crack of Burkett's was a dandy," ob-
served Joe. "And it came just in the nick of

"It was a lulu," chuckled McRae. "My heart
was in my mouth when I saw Cooper making for
it. Mighty few hits get away from that bird, but
it was just a bit too high for him."

Both teams were to leave for Boston that night.
A special train made up entirely of Pullman cars
had been prepared to carry them, together with
hundreds of enthusiasts who had planned to go
with them back and forth and see each game of
the Series. They would reach the city a little
after midnight, and in order that the athletes might
not be disturbed, they would be shunted into a re-
mote part of the railroad yards where they could
slumber peacefully until morning.


But several hours were to elapse before the
train started. Joe hurried into his street clothes,
and, accompanied by Jim Barclay, was whirled
away in a taxicab to the Marlborough, where they
had arranged to have a jolly dinner with his fam-
ily and the Varleys.

The baseball players found everything ready
for them, and the welcome that greeted them
warmed their hearts.

"What a pity that we haven't a band here ready
to strike up : 'Hail the conquering heroes come,' "
said Mabel, mischievously.

" 'Hero/ you mean," corrected Jim. "I'm shin-
ing with only reflected glory. Here's the real
hero of the piece," indicating Joe. "I'm only one
of the Roman populace."

"And who's the villain?" smiled Mr. Matson.

"Oh, Fraser was the villain," responded Jim.
"But Joe foiled him just as he was about to carry
away the che-ild."

Barclay had not yet met Joe's family, but now
Joe introduced him to his parents and Clara.
They greeted him cordially, and Clara's eyes fell
before the admiration that leaped into Jim's merry
blue ones.

It is barely possible that that young lady had
thought more than once of what Joe had said of
Barclay in the letter that had enclosed the thou-
sand dollar bill. And now as she studied him


shyly from time to time while he chatted away
gaily, she had no difficulty in understanding why
Joe had spoken so enthusiastically of his friend.
And she was not sorry that Mabel had arranged
that she and Jim should sit next each other at the

They were soon talking with freedom and ani-

"You ought to be awfully proud of that brother
of yours," Jim declared.

"I should say so I" Clara exclaimed. "He's the
dearest brother that ever lived."

"He's a prince," assented Jim. "A finer fellow
never trod in shoe leather. I owe an awful lot to
him, Miss Matson. I was feeling as forlorn as
only a 'rookie' can feel when I broke into tTie big
league, but he took me up at once and we've been
like brothers ever since."

"He's often spoken of you in his letters home,"
replied Clara. "I'd tell you what he said of you,
only it would make you too conceited."

"And he's raved to me about that sister of his,"
said Jim. "He's done more than that. He's
shown me your picture. I've been tempted more
than once to steal it from him."

"What a desperate criminal," laughed Clara,
her cheeks growing pink.

"I think any jury would justify me if they once
saw the picture," replied Jim, gallantly, "and


they certainly would if they caught sight of the

From this it can be seen that these young folks
were fast becoming very friendly.

"It has been the dream of my life to see New
York and Boston," observed Clara.

"Is that so?" said Jim, eagerly. "I know both
of them like a book. You must let me show you

"That's very nice of you," said Clara, demurely.
"But I suppose Joe will want "

"Oh, of course," said Jim. "But Joe will be so
busy you know with the games. He'll be under
a big strain, while I'll probably have plenty of
time. I'm only a sort of fifth wheel to the coach,
while Joe's the whole thing. And then, too, Joe's
already got Mabel, and it isn't fair that he should
have two lovely girls while I'm left out in the
cold. You really must take pity on me."

Few girls would have been so hard-hearted as
to let such a handsome young fellow as Jim die
of grief, and Clara had no intention of hastening
his demise by excessive cruelty on her part. So
she assented, though with the proper degree of
maidenly hesitation, and they began merrily to
map out plans for the coming week.

Joe, seated with Mabel on one side and his
mother on the other, had also been enjoying him-
self hugely through the dinner, while Reggie and


Mr. Matson found plenty to talk about in dis-
cussing the events of the day. The time passed all
too swiftly and before they knew it they had to
begin preparations for the journey.

"Let's look at the weather probabilities for to-
morrow," said Joe, buying an evening paper at
the newsstand as they passed through the Grand
Central Terminal.

"Urn — cloudy and unsettled," he read.

"That means that we'll have to get busy and
win in the first five innings before the rain comes,"
laughed Jim.

"It ought to be a good day to pitch Markwith,"
returned Joe. u With a cloudy day and that blind-
ing speed of his they won't be able to see the ball."

The two young athletes saw their party to their
car, and after a few moments of pleasant chat
bade them good-night and repaired to the Pull-
mans that had been reserved for the Giant team.

All were in a most jovial mood and filled with
highest hopes for the morrow. Joke and banter
flew back and forth, until the watchful McRae as-
serted the claims of discipline and sent them all to
their berths.

The next morning when they drew the curtains,
they found that the weather man's prognostica-
tions had been correct. Dull, leaden-colored
clouds chased each other across the sky and a
bleak wind came from the east.


"Looks like soggy weather, sure enough,"
commented Jim, as he met Joe in the lavatory.

"It certainly does," assented Joe. "Hope it
holds off till after the game. It may cut down the

"No danger of that unless it rains cats and
dogs," rejoined Jim. "Boston is the best base-
ball city in the country, and it'll take more than a
few clouds or even a drizzle to keep the crowds

They breakfasted in the dining car, and then
Joe's party adjourned to the hotel where rooms
had been reserved. There was not much time for
sight seeing, but they all had a pleasant little stroll
on the Common and in the wonderful Botanical
Gardens, before their duties called the young men
away to the baseball grounds.

The weather still continued threatening, but as
Jim had prophesied, this did not affect the attend-
ance. Boston was as wild over the Series as New
York, and long before noon Commonwealth Ave-
nue and Gaffney Street were packed with the on-
coming throngs. By the time the game started the
enormous Braves Field was packed to its utmost

Personally, McRae welcomed the overcast sky.
It was a pitcher's day, a day that called for speed,
and speed as everybody knew was Markwith's
"long suit."


"Smoke 'em over, Red," was McRae's admoni-
tion, when he told Markwith he was slated to
pitch. "If we can only put this game on the right
side of the ledger, the world's flag is as good as
won. Give us a lead of two games and it will take
the spine out of those birds. They'll never catch

"I get you, Mac," grinned the pitcher. "I'll
zip 'em over so fast they'll have to use glasses to
see 'em."

For four innings it looked as though his proph-
ecy would be fulfilled. His companions played
like fiends behind him, and although the Bostons
got to him for three bingles, they were scattered
ones, and not a man got as far as third base.

"Looks as though Red had their goat, John,"
Robson remarked to McRae.

"He's doing fine," McRae returned, "and our
boys seem to be getting to Banks pretty freely."

The Giants had, in fact, got a pretty good line
on Banks, the port flinger of the Red Sox, and had
accumulated three runs, which, with Markwith
going as he was, seemed a very comfortable lead.

But the glorious uncertainty of the national
game was demonstrated in the next inning. The
Giants had been disposed of in their half with a
goose egg, and the Red Sox came in to bat.

The first man up was given a base on balls. The
next hit a sharp bounder to Denton, who ought to


have made an easy out either at first or second,
but he juggled the ball and both men were safe.

The error seemed to unnerve Markwith, and
he gave another pass, filling the bases.

"Get to him, boys!" screamed the Boston
coacher on the side lines near first base. "He's
got nothing on the ball but his glove and a

Walters, the slugging center fielder, caught the
second ball pitched right on the seam and sent it
on a line between left and center for the cleanest
of home runs, clearing the bases and denting the
rubber himself for the fourth run. In jig time,
the Red Sox had wiped out the Giants' advantage
and taken the lead.

The crowd went wild and the "Tessie" song
swelled up from the stands.

McRae, with his brow like a thunder cloud,
beckoned Red from the box and called in Jim, who,
as a matter of precaution but with little idea of
being called upon, had been warming up in a cor-
ner of the grounds.

"It's up to you, Barclay," he said as he handed
him the ball. "Let's see now what stuff you're
made of."

Joe gave Jim an encouraging pat on the

"Steady does it, old man," he said. "They're
only one run ahead and the bases are empty. Hold


them down and our boys will hand you enough
runs to win out."

It was a trying position for a young and com-
paratively new pitcher, but Jim was a "comer"
and had already proved in other games that he
had both skill and nerve.

"Knock this one out of the box, too," came from
the stands.

"Sew up the game right now !"

"Eat him up!"

"He'll be easy!"

"Oh, you Red Sox!"

Jim wound up and shot one over for a strike.

"Easy, is he?" came back from the Giant sup-
porters. "Just watch that boy's smoke."

Another strike followed, and the stands sobered
down a little.

"You're out," called the umpire, as a third
strike split the plate.

Shouts of delight and encouragement came from
the Giants' bench, and McRae's face lightened

The next man went out on a high foul, and the
inning ended when Stock popped an easy fly to the

"Bully for you, old man !" came from his mates,
as Jim walked in from the mound.

"Knock out some runs now, you fellows," ad-
monished McRae. "Barclay can't do it all. And


do it in a hurry, too. I don't like the way those
clouds are coming up."

The sky was blackening rapidly, and the wind,
coming from the east in strong gusts, told that a
storm was on the way.

The Giants knew the need of haste, and they
went at their work fiercely. Larry started pro-
ceedings with a rattling two bagger. Denton
sacrificed him to third. Willis lined out a single,
bringing in Larry and reaching second himself a
moment later on a passed ball. Becker sent one
to right that scored Willis and netted two bags for
himself. Iredell went out on an infield catch, but
Mylert came to the rescue with a sizzling hit that
brought Becker to the plate amid frantic shouts
from the New York rooters.

Three runs had been scored and New York was
again in the lead by six to four. Two men were
out. But now rain began to fall, although at first
it was only a drizzle, and McRae, frenzied with
anxiety, ordered Burkett to strike out.

Now, of course, it was the Bostons' cue to delay
the game. If they could prevent the sixth inning
from being fully played out before the rain stopped
proceedings, the score would revert to what it
was at the end of the fifth inning and Boston would
be declared the winner.

They came in slowly from the field, stopping
frequently to talk to each other. Then when at


last they were at their bench, the first batter took
unusual pains in selecting his bat. And all the
time the rain was falling more heavily.

McRae rushed at the umpire.

"Can't you see what they're doing?" he de-
manded. "Make them play ball."

The umpire turned sternly to the batter.

"Hurry up there," he commanded. "None of

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