CHAPTER XXX

THE FINAL BATTLE

The game was to be played on the Polo Grounds, and excitement was at fever heat. It seemed as though the whole male population of Greater New York had determined to see that game. Men waited in line all night, and from early morning the surface cars and elevated trains were packed with people going to the grounds.

The weather was fair, and the lovers of the game had a day that was all that could be desired. The turf had been rolled and groomed till it looked like green velvet.

The odds were in the Giants’ favor, because they were the stronger team and because they were playing on their own grounds. Still, they had been whipped by the same team before on the same grounds, and they might be again. And the nervous tension they were under because of the importance of the game made them the more liable to break at critical points in the contest. The Brooklyns, on the other hand, had nothing to lose, and for that very reason might be the cooler-headed.

McRae had picked Joe as his pitching “ace” for this deciding contest. Grimm had been selected as the boxman for the delegation from across the bridge. At the moment, he was going better than any other of the Dodgers’ staff, and any team that whipped him would know at least that it had been in a fight.

But on that day Joe feared no pitcher in the League. He was in magnificent shape in mind and body. In the preliminary practice with Mylert he made the latter wince, as the balls came over smoking hot.

“Save that stuff for the Brooklyns, Joe,” Mylert protested, “or you’ll have me a cripple before the bell rings.”

Not only Joe’s arm but his heart felt good that day. Mabel was sitting in a box, watching him proudly, and he felt that he simply couldn’t lose. She was his mascot, and he carried near his heart the little glove that had rested there when he won the championship of the world.

Beside her sat Clara, flushed and happy and as sweet as a rose. She had come on from Riverside, bringing the glad news that Mrs. Matson was making astonishing progress and had now almost entirely regained her health.

So it was with a mind at peace and spirits high that Joe faced the doughty sluggers of the team from across the big bridge.

From the very start, it was apparent that he had “everything.” Never had he been in finer form. Brain and muscle worked in perfect unison. Every ball he pitched had a reason behind it. He knew the weaknesses of every batter, and played upon them. The man who was death on low balls got a high one, and _vice versa_. His speed, his change of pace, his curve, his fadeaway, his hop, his control--all of these obeyed him as though under the spell of a magician. If ever a man made a ball “talk,” Joe did that day.

Again and again the Brooklyns switched their tactics. Sometimes they lashed out at the first ball pitched. Again they tried to wait him out. These failing, they resorted to bunting. Nothing was of any avail. They were simply up against unhittable pitching.

Inning after inning went by without a score. In the fourth, Naylor made a scratch, and in the seventh, Leete hit the ball for a clean single. But on these occasions, Joe tightened up, and no man got as far as second, despite the desperate efforts of their comrades to advance the runner.

Grimm, too, was pitching fine ball, but not by any means airtight. The Giants had gotten to him for six hits, but, with one exception, no two had been allowed in the same inning, and the Giants were as scoreless as their opponents.

Grimm had thought discretion the better part of valor when Joe had faced him, and had twice passed him deliberately to first. The boos of the spectators failed to disturb Grimm’s equanimity. His motto was “safety first.” On a third occasion, his cunning miscarried, and Joe, walking into the ball in desperation, had clouted it for a two baser. But as two were out at the time and the next man fanned, he was left holding second.

In the ninth, Joe put on extra steam and fanned three men in a row, amid the cheers of the Giant rooters.

Then the Giants came in for their last half. Grimm made Burkett hit a grounder to first that was an easy out. Larry sent a Texas leaguer behind second that was gathered in by the guardian of that bag. Then Joe came to the bat.

Grimm still had no mind to give him a hit, and the first two balls were wide of the plate. He tried to put the third in the same place, but his control faltered and the ball came within Joe’s reach.

There was a mighty crash, and the ball started on a line between right and center. At the crack of the bat, Joe was off like a frightened jackrabbit. He rounded first and started for second.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the right- and centerfielders running for the ball, which had struck the ground and was rolling toward the wall. He knew that it would rebound, and that one of the fielders would “play the angle,” and thus get it the sooner.

The people in the stands had risen now, and were shouting like madmen. He caught just one glimpse of Mabel, standing in her box with her hands pressed on her heart.

He made second and kept on for third. On and on he went, as though on wings. His heart beat like a trip hammer. His lungs seemed as though they would burst. The wind whistled in his ears. He had never run like that in his life.

He rounded third and made for home. The ball was coming, as he knew from the shouts of the spectators and the warning yells of his comrades. Down that white stretch he tore. He saw the catcher set himself for the coming ball, knew from his eyes that the ball was near. With one mighty leap, he threw himself to the ground in a marvelous hook slide that swung his body out of the catcher’s reach and yet just permitted his outstretched fingers to touch the plate before the catcher put the ball on him.

“Safe!” cried the umpire. The game was won, the pennant cinched, and the Giants once more were the champions of the National League.

What Mabel thought of Joe she told him privately. What McRae and Robbie and his teammates thought of him they told him publicly. What the newspapers thought of him they told the world. As pitcher, as batter, and as captain, Baseball Joe was proclaimed the king of them all.

And what Mr. and Mrs. Matson, the former happy because of the success of his invention, the latter because of her restoration to health, thought of their famous son they told to him a few weeks later at a wedding ceremony in the Riverside home, when Clara placed her hand in Jim’s and made him the happiest of men.

THE END

THE BASEBALL JOE SERIES

By LESTER CHADWICK

_12mo. Illustrated. Price 50 cents per volume. Postage 10 cents additional._

1. BASEBALL JOE OF THE SILVER STARS _or The Rivals of Riverside_

2. BASEBALL JOE ON THE SCHOOL NINE _or Pitching for the Blue Banner_

3. BASEBALL JOE AT YALE _or Pitching for the College Championship_

4. BASEBALL JOE IN THE CENTRAL LEAGUE _or Making Good as a Professional Pitcher_

5. BASEBALL JOE IN THE BIG LEAGUE _or A Young Pitcher’s Hardest Struggles_

6. BASEBALL JOE ON THE GIANTS _or Making Good as a Twirler in the Metropolis_

7. BASEBALL JOE IN THE WORLD SERIES _or Pitching for the Championship_

8. BASEBALL JOE AROUND THE WORLD _or Pitching on a Grand Tour_

9. BASEBALL JOE: HOME RUN KING _or The Greatest Pitcher and Batter on Record_

10. BASEBALL JOE SAVING THE LEAGUE _or Breaking Up a Great Conspiracy_

11. BASEBALL JOE CAPTAIN OF THE TEAM _or Bitter Struggles on the Diamond_

12. BASEBALL JOE CHAMPION OF THE LEAGUE _or The Record that was Worth While_

13. BASEBALL JOE CLUB OWNER _or Putting the Home Town on the Map_

14. BASEBALL JOE PITCHING WIZARD _or Triumphs Off and On the Diamond_

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CHAMPION SPORTS STORIES

By NOEL SAINSBURY, JR.

_Every boy enjoys sport stories. Here we present three crackerjack stories of baseball, football, and basketball, written in the vernacular of the boy of today, full of action, suspense and thrills, in language every boy will understand, and which we know will be enthusiastically endorsed by all boys._

_Large 12mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Jacket in color. Price 50 cents per volume._

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1. CRACKER STANTON _Or The Making of a Batsman_

Ralph Stanton, big, rawboned and serious, is a product of the backwoods and a crack rifle shot. Quick thinking and pluck bring him a scholarship to Clarkville School where he is branded “grind” and “dub” by classmates. How his batting brings them first place in the League and how he secures his appointment to West Point make CRACKER STANTON an up-to-the-minute baseball story no lover of the game will want to put down until the last word is read.

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Clarkville School’s basketball team is kidnapped during the game for the State Scholastic Championship. The team’s subsequent adventures under the leadership of Captain Charlie Minor as he brings them back to the State College Gymnasium where the two last quarters of the Championship game are played next evening, climaxes twenty-four pulsating hours of adventure and basketball in the FIGHTING FIVE....

CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY, Publishers New York

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_12mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Colored jackets._

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THE BOMBA BOOKS

By ROY ROCKWOOD

_12mo. Cloth. Illustrated. With Colored jacket._

_Price 50 cents per volume. Postage 10 cents additional._

_Bomba lived far back in the jungles of the Amazon with a half-demented naturalist who told the lad nothing of his past. The jungle boy was a lover of birds, and hunted animals with a bow and arrow and his trusty machete. He had only a primitive education, and his daring adventures will be followed with breathless interest by thousands._

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Transcriber’s Notes:

--Copyright notice provided as in the original printed text--this e-text is public domain in the country of publication.

--Text in italics is enclosed by underscores (_italics_); text in bold by “equal” signs (=bold=).

--Punctuation and spelling inaccuracies were silently corrected.

--Archaic and variable spelling is preserved.

--Variations in hyphenation and compound words have been preserved.

--The author’s em-dash style have been retained.

--Inconsistencies in formatting and punctuation of individual advertisements have been retained.