CHAPTER XV
THE BEWILDERED UMPIRE
But whatever the umpire's name might have been, he only resembled Solomonin one respect. He was inclined to compromise and cut the play in two,giving one part to the major leaguers and the other to the Oakland team.
He was not to blame for being bewildered, for the baseball magnates whohad framed the rules had never contemplated the special case of a playercatching the ball in his pocket.
Between the opposing claims he pulled out his book and scanned itcarefully but with no result.
"It's easy enough," rasped McRae. "He tried to catch a ball and muffed it.It goes for a hit and Curry scores."
"Not on your life," barked Everett, the manager of the Oakland team. "Hegot the ball and it never touched the ground."
"Got it," sneered McRae. "This is baseball, not pool. He can't pocket theball."
There was a laugh at this, and Mackay, the third baseman, looked a littlesheepish. The baited umpire suggested that the whole play be called offand that Curry go back to third while Larry resumed his place at the bat.
Larry set up a howl at this, as he saw his perfectly good three-baser goglimmering.
"Oh, hire a hall," snapped Everett. "Even if the umpire decides againstthe catch it was only an error and you ought to have been out anyway."
"You can't crawl out of it that way," said McRae to the umpire. "A play isa play and you've got to settle it one way or the other, even if yousettle it wrong."
The umpire hesitated, wiped his brow and finally decided that the ball wascaught. That put Larry out, and he retreated, growling, to the bench,while Everett grinned his satisfaction.
"That's all right, Ump," said the latter. "But how about Curry? Mackay putthe ball on him all right and that makes three out."
"Say, what do you want, the earth?" queried McRae. "He didn't put the ballon him. He didn't have the ball to put. It was in his pocket all thetime."
"Of course I put the ball on him," declared Mackay. "I must have. When Ifell on him I hit him everywhere at once."
The umpire finally decided that Mackay had not put the ball on Curry, andthe red-headed right-fielder chuckled at the thought of the run he hadscored.
"That makes it horse and horse," said the umpire. "Get back to yourplaces."
If he thought he was at the end of his troubles he was mistaken, forEverett suddenly cried out:
"Look here. You said that Mackay caught that ball, didn't you?"
"That's what I said," snorted the umpire.
"Well, then," crowed Everett triumphantly, "why didn't Curry go back tothird and touch the bag before he lit out for home? He has to do that on acaught fly ball, hasn't he?"
The umpire looked fairly stumped. Here was something on which the ruleswere explicit. It was certain that Curry should have returned to the baseand it was equally certain that he hadn't. Mackay had caught him half-waybetween third and home.
But McRae was equal to the occasion.
"Suppose he did have to," he cried. "You said that Mackay hadn't touchedhim and he's free to go back yet."
"And I'm free to touch him with the ball," Mackay came back at him.
"But the ball isn't in play," put in Robbie, adding his mite to thegeneral confusion. "You called time when you came in to settle this."
"Who wouldn't be an umpire?" laughed Jim to Joe, as he saw the look ofdespair on that worried individual's face.
"The most glorious mixup I ever saw on the ball field," answered Joe.
"'How happy he could be with either were 'tother dear charmer away,'"chuckled Jim, pointing to the two pugnacious disputants on either side ofthe umpire.
"Curry's out--Curry isn't out. Love me--love me not," responded Joe.
By this time the crowd had got over their laugh and impatiently demandedaction. The umpire cut the Gordian knot by sending Curry back to third,where he and Mackay chaffed each other and the game went on.
It was not much of a game after that, however, as the laughable incidenthad put all the players in a more or less frivolous mood. It finally endedin a score of six to three in favor of the All-Americans, and the teamsmade a break for the showers.
"The last game we play on American soil for many moons," remarked Joe, as,having bathed and dressed, the two young athletes strolled toward theirhotel.
"And every one of them a victory," observed Jim. "Not a single mark onthe wrong side of the ledger!"
"That game at Denver was the closest call we had," said Joe. "The trip sofar has been a big money-maker, too. McRae was telling me yesterday thatwe'd already topped ninety-five thousand, and there was ten thousand inthat crowd to-day if there was a penny."
"I guess Mac won't have any trouble in buying steamship tickets," laughedJim. "By the way, we haven't had a look at the old boat yet. Let's go downto-morrow and inspect her."
"Why not make it the day after to-morrow?" suggested Joe. "The girls willbe here by that time and we'll take them with us."
"That will suit me, Joe."
"I've been thinking of something, Jim," went on the crack pitcher, after apause. "It won't be long now before we leave America. What do you say ifwe do a little shopping, and buy some things for ourselves and for thegirls?"
"Say, that's queer! I was thinking the same thing." Jim paused for amoment. "Won't it be fine to have the others with us again?"
"Yes; I'll be very glad to see Mabel, and glad to see Clara, too. Isuppose you've been getting letters pretty regularly, eh, Jim?"
"I don't believe I've been getting any more letters than you have, Joe,"returned the other.
"Well, you're welcome to them, Jim. I wish you luck!" said Joe, and placeda hand on his chum's shoulder. For a moment they looked into each other'seyes, and each understood perfectly what was passing in the other's mind.But Jim just then did not feel he could say too much.
"I'll be glad to see Reggie again, too," remarked Joe, after a moment ofsilence. "He's something of a queer stick, but pretty good at that."
"Oh, he's all right, Joe," answered Jim. "As he grows older and sees moreof the seamy side of life, he'll get some of that nonsense knocked out ofhim."
They ate their supper that night with a sense of relaxation to which theyhad long been strangers. For the first time since they had gone to thetraining camp at Texas in the spring, they were out of harness. There hadbeen the fierce, tense race for the pennant that had strained them to theutmost.
Then, with only a few days intervening, had come the still more excitingbattle for the championship of the world. They had won and won gloriously,but even then they had not felt wholly free, for the long trip across thecontinent which they had just finished was then before them, and althoughthis struggle had been less close and important, it had still kept them onedge and in training.
But now their strenuous year had ended. Before them lay a glorious triparound the world, a voyage over summer seas, a pilgrimage through lands ofmystery and romance, the fulfillment of cherished dreams, and with themwere to go the two charming girls who represented to them all that wasworth while in life and who even now were hurrying toward them as fast assteam could bring them.
"This is the end of a perfect day," hummed Jim, as he sat back and lighteda cigar.
"You're wrong there, Jim," replied Joe, with a smile. "The perfect daywill be to-morrow."
"Right you are!"
Yet little did Baseball Joe and his chum dream of the many adventures andperils which lay ahead of them.