CHAPTER XIV
A WEIRD GAME
Baseball Joe was startled and showed it plainly.
"What do you mean?" he asked, as his mind ran over the names of histeam-mates.
"Just what I say," replied McRae. "I tell you, Joe, somebody's getting inhis fine work with our boys and I know it."
"Where's your proof?" asked Joe. "I hate to think that any of our fellowswould welch on their contracts."
"So do I," returned McRae. "We've been like one big family, and I'vealways tried to treat the boys right. I've got a rough tongue, aseverybody knows, and in a hot game I've called them down many a time whenthey've made bonehead plays. But at the same time I've tried to be just,and I've never given any of them the worst end of the deal. They've beenpaid good money, and I've carried them along sometimes when other managerswould have let them go."
"You've been white all right," assented Joe warmly. He recalled anoccasion when a muff by a luckless center-fielder had lost a World Seriesand fifty thousand dollars for the team, and yet McRae had "stood thegaff" and never said a word, because he knew the man was trying to do hisbest.
"I'm telling this to you, Joe," went on McRae, "because I want you to helpme out. You've proved yourself true blue when you were put to the test. Iknow you'll do all you can to hold the boys in the traces. They all likeyou and feel that they owe you a lot because it was your pitching thatpulled us through the World's Series. Besides, they'll be more impressedby what you say than by the talk I'd give them. They figure that I'm themanager and am only looking after my own interests, and for that reasonwhat I say has less effect."
"I'll stand by you, Mac," returned Joe, "and help you in any way I can.Who are the boys that you think are trying to break loose?"
"There are three of them," replied McRae. "Iredell, Curry and Burkett, andall three of them are stars, as you know as well as I do."
"They're cracks, every one of them," agreed Joe. "And they're among thelast men that I'd suspect of doing anything of the kind. What makes youthink they've been approached?"
"A lot of things," replied McRae. "In the first place, I have noticed thatthey are stiff and offish in their manner when I speak to them. Then, too,I've come across them several times lately with their heads together, andwhen they saw me coming they'd break apart and start talking of somethingelse, as if I had interrupted them. Beside that, all three have struck melately for a raise in salary next season."
"That's nothing new for ball players," said Joe, with a smile.
"No," admitted McRae, an answering smile relieving the gravity of his facefor the moment. "And I stand ready of my own accord to give the boys asubstantial increase on last year's pay because of their winning thepennant. But what these three asked for was beyond all reason, and made methink there was a nigger in the woodpile. They either had had a big offerfrom somebody else and were using that as a club to hold me up with, orelse they were just trying to give themselves a better excuse forjumping."
"How long do their contracts have to run?" asked Joe.
"Iredell has one year more and Curry and Burkett are signed up for twoyears yet," replied the Giants' manager. "Of course I could try to holdthem to their contracts, but you know as well as I do that baseballcontracts are more a matter of honesty than of legal obligation. If a manis straight, he'll keep it, if he's crooked, he'll break it. And you knowwhat a hole it would leave in the Giant team if those three men went overthe fence. There isn't a heavier slugger in the team than Burkett, exceptLarry. His batting average this year was .332, and as a fielding firstbaseman he's the class of the league."
"You're right there," acquiesced Joe, as he recalled the ease andprecision with which Burkett took them on either side and dug them out ofthe dirt. "He's saved a game for me many and many a time."
"As for Iredell," went on McRae, "he hasn't his equal in playing short andin covering second as the pivot for a double play. And nobody has playedthe infield as Curry does since I've been manager of the team."
"It would certainly break the Giants all up to lose the three of them,"agreed Joe. "But we haven't lost them yet. Remember that the game isn'tover till the last man is out in the ninth inning."
"I know that. You've helped me win two fights this year, Joe, one for thechampionship of the league and the other for the championship of theworld. Now I'm counting on you to help me win a third, perhaps the hardestof them all."
"Put 'er there, Mac," said Joe, extending his hand. "Shake--I'm with youtill the cows come home."
"Of course, they'll be willing to put up big money, Joe. You know thatalready."
"It doesn't make a particle of difference, Mac, how much money they putup," returned the crack pitcher warmly. "There isn't enough cash in theU. S. treasury to tempt me."
"I know that, Joe. And I only wish that I could be as certain of the restof the players."
"Well, of course, I can't speak for the others. But you can be sure thatI'll use my influence on the right side every time. Some of them mayweaken and break away, but I doubt very much if they'll be any of yourmain-stays. If I were you, Mac, I wouldn't let this worry me too much."
"Yes, I know it's getting on my nerves, Joe, because, you see, it means somuch to me. But having you on my side has braced me up a good deal," wenton the manager.
They shook hands warmly, and McRae, evidently encouraged and braced by thetalk with his star pitcher, made his way back to his own immediate party.
The teams were slated to play in Salt Lake City and in Ogden. In bothplaces they "cleaned up" easily, and it was not until a few days laterwhen they reached the slope that they encountered opposition that madethem exert themselves to win.
At Bakersfield, with Jim in the box, the game went to eleven inningsbefore it was finally placed to the credit of the Giants by a score ofthree to two. The 'Frisco team also put up a stiff fight for eightinnings, but were overwhelmed by a storm of hits which rained from Giantbats in the ninth.
The game with Oakland was the last on the schedule before the teams leftfor the Orient, and an enormous crowd was in attendance.
Joe was in the box for the All-American team. He was in fine form, andheld the home team down easily until the fifth inning, but the Oaklandsalso, undaunted by the reputation of their adversaries, and under theguidance of a manager who had formerly been a famous first baseman of theChicago team, were also out to win if possible, and with first-classpitching and supported by errorless fielding, they held their redoubtableopponents on even terms.
At the end of the fifth, neither team had scored, although the Giants hadthreatened to do so on two separate occasions. A singular conditiondeveloped in the sixth. It was the Giants' turn at bat and Curry hadreached first on a clean single to right. A neat sacrifice by Joe advancedhim to second. A minute later he stole third, sliding feet first into thebag and narrowly escaping the ball in the third baseman's hand.
With only one out and Larry coming to the bat, the prospects for a runwere bright.
Larry let the first go by, but swung at the second, which was comingstraight to the plate. His savage lunge caught the ball on the underside,and it went soaring through the air to a tremendous height.
Both the second and third baseman started for the ball. It looked asthough neither would be able to reach it, and Curry ran half-way down theline between third and home, awaiting the result. If the ball were caughthe figured that he would easily have time to get back to third. If it weredropped, he could make home and score.
The third baseman got under the descending ball, but it was coming fromsuch a height that it was difficult to judge. It slipped through hisfingers, but instead of falling to the ground, went plump into the pocketof his baseball shirt.
He tugged desperately to get it out, at the same time running towardCurry, who danced about on the line between third and home in an agony ofindecision. Was the ball caught or not? If it were, he would have toreturn to third. If it were not, he must make a break for home.
The teams were all sho
uting now, while the crowd went into convulsions.The third baseman reached Curry and grabbed him with one hand, while withthe other he frantically tried to get the ball from his pocket and clapit on him. But the ball stuck, and in the mixup both players fell to theground and rolled over and over.
Larry, in the meanwhile, was tearing round the bases, but he himselfwasn't sure whether he was really out or whether he ought to strike forhome. He reached third and pulled up there, still in the throes of doubt.He could have easily gone on past the struggling combatants, but in thatcase, if Curry were finally declared not out, Larry would also be out forhaving passed him and got home first.
On the other hand, if Curry should finally escape and get back to third,one of them would still be out because he was occupying the bag to whichhis comrade was entitled. He did not really know whether he was runningfor exercise or to score a run.
It was the funniest mixup that even the veteran players had ever seen on aball field, and as for the crowd they were wild with joy.
The third baseman, finding that Curry was about to get away from him andunable to get the ball out of his pocket, finally threw his arms about himand hugged him close in the wild hope that some part of the protrudingball would touch his prisoner's person and thus put him out.
The sight of those burly gladiators, locked in a fond embrace, threatenedthe sanity of the onlookers, but the farce was ended when Curry finallywriggled out from the anaconda grasp of his opponent and took a chance forthe plate.
Then there was a hot debate, as the umpire, himself laughing until thetears ran down his face, tried to solve the situation. Had Curry beentouched by the ball, or had he not? Had the ball been caught or not?
Players on both sides tugged at him as they debated the matter _pro_ and_con_.
"I don't know what that umpire's name is," grinned Jim to Joe, who wasweak with laughter, "but I know what it ought to be."
"What?" asked Joe.
"Solomon," chuckled Jim.