CHAPTER XV
TROUBLE BREWING
Still Jackwell and Bowen stood mute, neither of them venturing to meetJoe's gaze.
"If you don't tell it to me, you'll have to tell it to McRae,"suggested Joe. "I'm trying to let you down easy, without calling itto his attention. If we can settle it among ourselves, so much thebetter. Is it some trouble at home that's weighing on your mind? Is itsomething about money matters? If it's that, perhaps I can help youout."
"That's very kind of you, Mr. Matson," said Jackwell, who seemed bycommon consent to be the spokesman for the two. "But it isn't either ofthose two. It's something else that neither Ben nor I are quite readyyet to talk about.
"I know very well that you have a right to know anything that'sinterfering with our playing the game as it ought to be played. AndI'll admit, and I guess Ben will, too, that we were off our gameto-day. But I think we'll soon be able to settle the trouble so itwon't bother us any more.
"I wish you could see your way clear to give us a little more time.Let Ben and me have time to think and talk it over together. If we cansettle the matter without letting any one else know about it, we'd muchrather do so."
Joe pondered for a moment.
"I'm willing to go as far as this," he announced at last. "I'll giveyou a little more time, on this condition. If I note any furtherfalling off in your play, or you come to me with any excuses to be letoff from a game, I'm going to come down on you like a load of brick.Then you'll have to come across, and come across quick, or you'll beput off the team. Do you understand?"
"That's all right," said Jackwell. "You won't have any further cause tocomplain of me, Mr. Matson. I'll play my very best."
"I'll work my head off to win," declared Bowen.
They kept their promise in the series of games with the Western teamsthat followed. Jackwell played at third with a skill that brought backthe memory of Jerry Denny, and Bowen covered his territory splendidlyin the outfield. It seemed as though Joe's problem was solved, as faras they were concerned.
But the worry about them was replaced by another regarding Jim. Therewas no denying that the latter was not doing his best work. He wasintensely loyal and wrapped up in the success of the team. But theopposing teams were getting to him much more freely than they hadbefore that season. He was getting by in many of his games because the"breaks" happened to be with him, and because the Giants, with thenew spirit that Joe had infused into them, were playing a phenomenalfielding game. But there was something missing.
There was nothing amiss in Jim's physical condition. His arm was inperfect shape and his control as good as ever. But his mind was not onthe game, as it had formerly been. He worked mechanically, sometimesabstractedly. He was always trying, but it was as though he wereapplying whip and spur to his energies, instead of having them actjoyously and spontaneously.
Joe knew perfectly well what was worrying his chum. Ever since thatinvoluntary hesitation of Mabel's, when asked about Clara, Jim had beena different person. Where formerly he and Joe had laughed and jestedtogether on the closest terms of friendship and mutual understanding,there was now a shadow between them, a very slight and nebulousshadow, but a shadow nevertheless. Jim's old jollity, the bubblingeffervescence, the sheer joy in living, were conspicuous by theirabsence.
It was a matter that could not be talked about, and Joe, grieved tothe heart, could only wait and hope that the matter would be cleared uphappily. To his regret on his chum's account was added worry about theinfluence the trouble might have on the chances of the Giants.
For if there was any weak place in the Giants' armor, it was in thepitching staff. At the best, it was none too strong. Joe himself, ofcourse, was a tower of strength, and Jim was one of the finest twirlersin either League. But Markwith, though still turning in a fair numberof victories, was past his prime and unquestionably on the down grade.In another season or two, he would be ready for the minors. Bradleywas coming along fairly well, and Merton, too, had all the signs of acomer, but they were still too unseasoned to be depended on.
If the deal for Hays had gone through, he would have been a mostwelcome addition to the ranks of the Giant boxmen. But the Yankees hadhad a change of heart, and had decided to retain him for a while.
So Joe's dismay at the thought of Jim, his main standby, letting downin his efficiency was amply justified.
The Cincinnatis came back, as Hughson had prophesied, and took the nextgame. But the two following ones went into the Giants' bat bag, andwith three out of four they felt that they had got revenge for thetrimming that had been handed to them on their last trip to Redland.
St. Louis came next, and this time the Giants made a clean sweep of theseries. They were not so successful with the Pittsburghs, and had to besatisfied with an even break. But when the latter went over the bridgethe Brooklyns rose in their might and took the whole four games rightoff the reel, thus enabling the Giants to pass them and take secondplace in the race.
Then came the Chicagos, who were still leading the League, but only bythe narrow margin of one game. If the Giants could take three out offour from them, the Cubs would fall to second place.
Joe had made his pitching arrangements so that he himself would pitchthe first and fourth games. He did so, and won them both. He had neverpitched with more superb skill, strength and confidence, and theordinarily savage Cubs were forced to be as meek as lapdogs.
They got even, to an extent, with Markwith, whom they fairly clawedto pieces in the second game. Jim pitched in the third, and but for asenseless play might have won.
That play was made by Iredell in the ninth inning, with the Giantsmaking their last stand. The Cubs were three runs to the good. One manwas out in the Giants' half, Curry was on third and Iredell was onsecond, with Joe at the bat.
Suddenly, moved by what impulse nobody knew, Iredell tried to stealthird, forgetting for the moment that it was already occupied.
"Back!" yelled Joe in consternation. "Go back!"
With the shout, Iredell realized what he had done, and turned to goback. But it was too late. The Cub catcher had shot the ball down tosecond, and Holstein, with a chuckle, clapped the ball on Iredell as heslid into the bag.
A roar, partly of rage, partly of glee, rose from the spectators, andIredell was unmercifully joshed as he made his way back to the bench.
Joe, a minute later, smashed out a terrific homer on which Curry and heboth dented the plate. But the next man went out on strikes, and withhim went the game. If Iredell had been on second, he also would havecome home on Joe's circuit clout and the score would have been tied.The game would have gone into extra innings, with the Giants having atleast an even chance of victory.
As it was, the Chicagos were still leading the League by one game whenthey packed their bats and turned their backs upon Manhattan.
McRae was white with rage, as he told Iredell after the game what hethought of him.
"You ought to have your brain examined," he whipped out at him. "Thatis, if you have enough brain to be seen without a microscope. To stealthird when there was a man already on the bag! You ought to have aguard to see that the squirrels don't get you. What in the name of theSeven Jumping Juggernauts did you do it for?"
"I didn't know there was a man there," said Iredell lamely.
McRae looked as though he were going to have a fit.
"Didn't know a man was there!" he sputtered. "Didn't know a man wasthere! Didn't know a-- Look here, you fellows," he shouted to the restof the Giants gathered round. "I want you to understand there are nosecrets on this team. You tell Iredell after this whenever there's aman on third. Understand?"
He stalked away from the clubhouse in high dudgeon to share his woeswith the ever-faithful Robbie.
It was a hard game to lose, but Joe, as he summed up the results of theWestern invasion felt pretty good over the record. The Giants had woneleven out of sixteen games from the strongest teams in the League, andwere now only one game behind the leaders. They had climbed steadi
lyever since he had become captain.
But though he was elated at the showing of the team his heart washeavily burdened by his personal troubles. His mother was still in aprecarious condition. He tore open eagerly every letter from home, onlyto have his hopes sink again when he learned that she was no better.Sometimes the strain seemed more than he could bear.
Then there was Jim, dear old Jim, with the cloud on his brow and lookof suffering in his eyes that made Joe's heart ache whenever he lookedat him. From being the soul of good fellowship, Jim had withdrawnwithin himself, a prey to consuming anxiety. He seemed ten years olderthan he had a year ago. And as a player, he had slipped undeniably. Hewas no longer the terror to opposing batsmen that he had been such ashort time before. Joe gritted his teeth, and mentally scored Clara,who had brought his friend to such a pass.
But, troubled as he was, Joe summoned up his resolution and bent to histask. His work lay clearly before him. He was captain of the Giants.And the Giants must win the pennant!