CHAPTER XXII

  STRIVING FOR MASTERY

  It was Jim's turn to go on the mound in the first game with thePittsburghs, and in the practice work before the game he showed thathe was keyed up for his work. For so comparatively young a pitcher,he might well have been a bit nervous at facing so redoubtable a teambefore the immense crowd that had gathered to see whether or not theGiants' winning streak was doomed to be broken. But there was no traceof it in his manner, and McRae, looking him over, concluded that therewas no reason to change his selection.

  His confidence was justified. Jim that afternoon was at as high a pointof pitching form as he had ever reached in his career. He pitched amasterly game and held the Pirate sluggers to four hits. His supportwas all that could be desired, and some of the stops and throws of hiscomrades bordered on the miraculous. The Giants came out at the big endof the score, their tally being three to the solitary run scored bytheir opponents.

  "Twenty-five!" chuckled Joe, as he slapped his friend on the back, whenthe Pirates had been turned back in their half of ninth. "Jim, you're alulu! You had those fellows rolling over and playing dead."

  "I guess we had all the breaks," returned Jim, smiling modestly.

  "Nothing of the kind," disclaimed Joe. "If anything, they had whateverbreaks there were. It was simply a case of dandy pitching. You had thembuffaloed."

  "Only one more game to go before we tie our own record," said Jim."Gee, Joe, I wish you were going to pitch to-morrow. We're just insight of the Promised Land. That will be the most important game ofall."

  "Oh, I don't know," replied Joe. "It will be something to tie therecord, but I want to break it. Day after to-morrow will be thebig day. That is, if we win to-morrow, and I think we shall. It'sMarkwith's turn to go in, and he's going fine. The Pittsburghs aren'tany too good against left-handed pitchers, anyway."

  But whatever the alleged weakness of the Pirates against southpaws,they showed little respect for Markwith's offerings on the next day.They had on their batting clothes and clouted the ball lustily. Onlyphenomenal fielding on the part of the Giants kept the score down, andagain and again Markwith was pulled out of a hole by some dazzlingbit of play when a run seemed certain. Still he worried through untilthe first part of the eighth. At that time the score was five to fourin favor of the visitors. The Giants had been batting freely, but notquite as hard as the Pirates.

  In the eighth, Markwith was plainly beginning to wobble in his control.He passed two men in quick succession. That was enough for McRae, andJoe, who had been warming up at the right of the grandstand, was sentinto the box.

  The Pirates' scoring stopped then and there. Astley, who was at thebat, fanned on three successive strikes. Brown hit to the box and Joemade a lightning throw to Larry at second, who relayed it to first fora sparkling double play, putting out the side.

  The Giants' half of the eighth was scoreless. All the Pittsburghs hadto do now was to hold them down for one more inning, and the winningstreak would be broken.

  Joe made short work of the visitors in their last inning and the Giantscame in for their final half.

  Willis was the first man up. He made a savage lunge at the first ballpitched, but caught it on the under side, and it went up directlyover the plate. Jenkins the Pittsburgh catcher, did not have to movefrom his tracks to gather it in. Larry sent a fierce low liner toBaskerville at short, who made a magnificent catch, picking it off hisshoe tops. Two out, and the crowd fairly groaned as the winning streakseemed at last about to be broken.

  All hopes were now pinned on Denton. All he could do, however, was todribble a slow one to the box. It seemed a certain out, and nine timesout of ten would have been. But the Pittsburgh pitcher, in running inon it, snatched it up so hurriedly that it fell out of his hand. Herecovered it in an instant and shot it to first. But that fumble hadbeen fatal, and Denton by a headlong slide reached first before theball.

  A tremendous roar arose from the stands, and the people who had startedto leave sat down suddenly and sat down hard.

  In the Giants' dugout, all was excitement and animation. McRae ran downto first to coach Denton. Robbie rushed over to Joe, who was next inturn and had already picked up his bat.

  "For the love of Pete, Joe," he begged, "paste the old apple. Show themagain what you've been showing us all along. Kill the ball! Just once,Joe, just once! You can do it. One good crack, and you'll save thewinning streak."

  "I'll do my best," was Joe's reply.

  Frantic adjurations of the same nature were showered on Joe as he tookup his position at the plate. Then there was a great silence, as thecrowd fairly held their breath.

  But the crafty Pittsburgh pitcher was to be reckoned with. He had nomind to see the game go glimmering just at the moment it seemed to bewon. He signaled to his catcher and deliberately pitched two balls wideof the plate. It was evident that he was going to give Joe his base onballs and take a chance with Mylert, the next batter.

  But the best laid plans sometimes miscarry. The third ball he pitcheddid not go as wide of the plate as he had meant it should. Joe sized itup, saw that he could reach it, and swung for it with all his might.

  There was a crack like that of a rifle as the bat met the ball andsent it mounting ever higher and higher toward the right field wall.It seemed as though it were endowed with wings. On it went in a mightycurve and landed at last in the topmost row of the right field seats.There it was pocketed by a proud and happy fan, while Joe, sending inDenton ahead of him, jogged easily around the bases to the home plate.The game was won! The winning streak was saved! The Giants had tiedtheir record, which had stood untouched for so many years!

  The scene in the stands and bleachers beggared description. Roar afterroar went up, while the crazy spectators threw their straw hats intothe air and scattered them by scores over the field. The Polo Groundshad been transformed into a madhouse, but differing from other insaneasylums in that all the inmates were happy. All, that is, except thePirates and their supporters, who thought unspeakable things as theysaw the game in a twinkling torn from their grasp.

  Joe's only escape from his enthusiastic well-wishers lay in flight, andhe made a bee line for the clubhouse. He got inside not a moment toosoon. For a long time afterward a great crowd hung about the entrance,waiting for him to reappear, and it was only by slipping out of a backentrance that he eluded them.

  The old record had been tied. Could it be beaten?

 
Lester Chadwick's Novels
»The Broncho Rider Boys on the Wyoming Trailby Lester Chadwick
»The Radio Detectivesby Lester Chadwick
»Polly's First Year at Boarding Schoolby Lester Chadwick
»Batting to Win: A Story of College Baseballby Lester Chadwick
»The Rival Pitchers: A Story of College Baseballby Lester Chadwick
»Baseball Joe, Captain of the Team; or, Bitter Struggles on the Diamondby Lester Chadwick
»The Broncho Rider Boys with the Texas Rangersby Lester Chadwick
»Grit A-Plenty: A Tale of the Labrador Wildby Lester Chadwick
»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