CHAPTER III

  A CRACK SHOT

  There was a cry of horror from the crowd. To be hurled to the tracksfrom that height meant instant death for the little one.

  Several of the men had started to climb the lumber pile, but when theyheard the madman's threat they stopped instantly. The man above saw thathis words had taken effect and he laughed shrilly. But he still held thebaby high in the air.

  For a moment there was a hush of fear and indecision. Then Joe tookcommand of the situation. His baseball experience had taught him tothink quickly and act instantly.

  "That's all right," he sang out to the crazy man. "You can keep the babyif you want to. We just want to have a quiet little talk with you."

  The madman hesitated, looked about a little uncertainly, then slowlylowered the infant and held it cradled in his arms.

  "That's right," approved Joe heartily. "You and I are the only sensiblepeople here. These lunatics down here were making such a noise that Icouldn't make you hear me. Now we can talk."

  "Ha, ha!" cried the lunatic, delighted at the compliment. "You hit itright that time. The whole world is mad except for you and me. And I'mnot so sure of you, either," he modified, with a gravity that would havebeen comical under any other circumstances.

  While he was speaking, Joe was giving quick directions in a low voice tothe men nearest him.

  "Get the fellows to spread out on all sides of the lumber pile," he saidto Ed Wilson. "You, Tom," he went on to Tom Davis, "go quietly out onthe tracks. Then if he does throw the baby down, we'll at least have achance to catch it or break its fall."

  The others slipped away like shadows and Joe once more sought to engrossthe madman's attention.

  "Oh, but you must be sure of me," he expostulated in answer to what thelunatic had said. "Just watch the signs I give you, and if you can dothe same that will prove that we both belong to the same lodge."

  The disordered wits of the man above saw something interesting in this,and he nodded gravely.

  Joe stretched out his left hand and made a number of mysterious passesin the air, at the same time closing and unclosing his fingers.

  Then he stopped and the man extended his left arm and went through thesame motions as nearly as he could.

  "Good!" cried Joe, and the madman capered about in childish pleasure atthe commendation.

  "Now, do this," commanded Joe, and he went through a similar lot ofmummery with the right hand.

  The crazy man imitated him, but to do it he had to change the baby fromhis right arm to the left, and this gave Joe an inspiration.

  "Now, here's the hardest thing," said Joe, as he lifted both arms atonce and made them revolve. "If you can do this, I'll know for sure thatyou're all right."

  The stranger started to lift both arms to imitate Joe's revolutions, butfound himself encumbered by the baby. He looked at Joe in a sheepishway, as though for advice.

  "Of course you'll have to lay the baby down," said Joe, carelessly. "Youcan't make the right motions unless you do."

  The lunatic looked at him with a sudden glint of suspicion in his eyes,but Joe was so apparently indifferent that he slowly laid the baby down.

  Joe's heart was beating high now with excitement as the critical momentapproached that would test the success of the plan that had suddenlydarted into his brain.

  A number of the village boys had been building a snow fort and having amock battle in the lumber yard that afternoon. The snow was very wet andthe snowballs that had been formed from it had almost the consistency ofstone. A number of these "soakers" were still lying about and Joe sawhis chance.

  "Sam," he murmured in a low voice to Sam Berry. "Make me three or fourhard snowballs about as big as a baseball. Don't ask me why but makethem hard and quick."

  Sam asked no questions but worked frantically, and soon stood alongsideJoe with his hands behind his back.

  "All ready, Joe," he whispered. "Just reach out when the time comes andI'll put one in your hand."

  The time had nearly come. Joe's manoeuvering had brought it about thatthe baby was out of the madman's hands. The last step remained to betaken.

  "That's fine," roared Joe, as the stranger, after making both handsrevolve in the air, was about to pick up the baby. "Now, there's justthis one thing more and if you can do that, it will prove that you and Iare brother members of the same lodge."

  Joe placed both hands on top of his head and began to revolve his bodyslowly so as to present his back to the man above. In this positionhe remained for about fifteen seconds.

  "Can you do that?" he asked solemnly.

  "Of course I can," responded the other eagerly. "Just watch."

  He slowly revolved until he stood with his back toward Joe.

  Now was the latter's opportunity.

  "Quick!" he muttered to Sam Berry.

  Sam put in his hand a ball of snow that was almost as solid as a stone.Joe's fingers tightened about it and his muscles grew taut.

  Many a time before had he felt that queer thrill go through his arm andshoulder as he stood before some batsman in a critical period of thegame and tried to strike him out. But this time much more than a gamewas at stake. A human life depended upon the sureness of his aim.

  He took careful aim at the back of the madman's head and sent the icysnowball whizzing as though from a catapult.

  HE SENT THE ICY SNOWBALL WHIZZING AS THOUGH FROM ACATAPULT.]

  Straight as an arrow it found its mark. It struck the stranger just atthe base of the skull and he went down like a bullock smitten by an axe.

  A wild cheer rose from the crowd as they saw the man fall. The nextminute Joe had swarmed up the lumber pile with the agility of a monkeyand clasped the baby in his arms.

  He was rapidly followed by others, who secured the stranger. Ropes werecalled for, and he was bound before he could recover consciousness. Adoctor who was in the crowd examined him and found that he was sufferingfrom shock but that his skull had not been fractured and there would beno serious results from the blow.

  In the meantime, Joe was surrounded by a delirious throng that clappedhim on the back, tried to grasp his hand, and in general deported itselfas though it had just escaped from an asylum.

  "What's the matter with Matson?" shouted one enthusiast.

  "He's all right!" yelled the crowd.

  "Who's all right?"

  "Joe Matson!" came back the shout in undiminished volume.

  "Oh, cut it out, fellows," growled Joe good-naturedly, feeling himselfgetting pink to the tips of his ears. "The first thing to do is to getthis baby home to its mother."

  The baby seemed to think this was good sense, and urged the good workalong by howling so lustily, that Joe quickened his steps in hiseagerness to be rid of his burden. It was all very well to rescuebabies, but he felt awkward and helpless when it came to handling themand he looked forward to the Bilkins home as a harbor of refuge.

  Fortunately, in snatching the baby out of the cradle, the madman hadgathered up the bedclothes with it, so that the infant had not sufferedfrom cold. Its lungs anyway were in good condition, as Joe was willingto testify, and it did not seem to have suffered in any way from itsinvoluntary flight through the town.

  It was not long before Joe reached the panic-stricken home whereneighbors were ministering to the frantic mother and assuring her witha brave show of confidence that her baby would soon be restored. Shegave a scream of delight when Joe appeared with the little pink, fluffybundle in his arms, and in a moment she had snatched it from him and wassmothering it with kisses.

  This was Joe's chance and he was trying to make a "quick sneak," ashe phrased it in his own mind, but Bilkins himself and the crowd ofneighbors would stand for nothing of the kind, and again he had tosubmit to being made a hero of, much against his will.

  "It was nothing at all," he protested, blushing like a school girl atthe praises showered upon him. "Any other fellow could have done thesame."

  "But you notice that none of the other
fellows did do it," said Bilkins."It was not only the sure and swift aim that did it, but the clever workbefore that that enabled you to get the baby out of the man's arms andget the man himself with his back toward you so that he could not seethe ball coming and dodge. It was splendid, brainy work, Joe, and I'llnever forget it."

  It was a long time before the excitement quieted down and Joe at lastwas at liberty to wend his way home. The dusk was falling now and theair was biting cold, but he was in such a glow of body and spirit thathe took no note of outside conditions.

  A great emergency had suddenly confronted him and he had played the man.

 
Lester Chadwick's Novels
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»The Eight-Oared Victors: A Story of College Water Sportsby Lester Chadwick
»Baseball Joe on the Giants; or, Making Good as a Ball Twirler in the Metropolisby Lester Chadwick
»Baseball Joe on the School Nine; or, Pitching for the Blue Bannerby Lester Chadwick
»For the Honor of Randall: A Story of College Athleticsby Lester Chadwick
»Baseball Joe of the Silver Stars; or, The Rivals of Riversideby Lester Chadwick
»Baseball Joe at Yale; or, Pitching for the College Championshipby Lester Chadwick
»Baseball Joe in the World Series; or, Pitching for the Championshipby Lester Chadwick
»Baseball Joe in the Central League; or, Making Good as a Professional Pitcherby Lester Chadwick
»The Winning Touchdown: A Story of College Footballby Lester Chadwick
»Baseball Joe, Home Run King; or, The Greatest Pitcher and Batter on Recordby Lester Chadwick
»Bolax, Imp or Angel—Which?by Lester Chadwick
»Baseball Joe in the Big League; or, A Young Pitcher's Hardest Strugglesby Lester Chadwick