CHAPTER XVIII

IN THE THROES OF A SLUMP

Robson's round face had lost its usual smile. McRae's was like a thundercloud, and the players evaded him as much as they could. Even Larry was "Laughing Larry" no longer. It was a disgruntled crowd of baseball players that shook the dust of Cincinnati from their feet and started for Chicago.

"Better luck next time," Joe comforted his mates. "After all it's the uncertainty of the game that makes baseball. How many people would have been at the park if they thought their pets didn't have a chance to win?"

"That's all very well," grumbled Curry, "but we ought at least to have had our share of the breaks. We hit the ball hard enough, but every time it went straight to the fielders. They didn't hit any better, but the ball went just out of the reach of our fellows. Talk about fool luck! If those Cincinnati players fell in the water they'd come up with a fish dinner."

"That's just the reason we're due for a change," argued Jim. "We'll get it all back from the Cubs."

But here again there was disappointment. Joe pitched the first game and won in a close fight, although the Cubs tied it up in the ninth and Joe had to win his own game in the eleventh by a homer. But the next two went to Chicago, and in the fourth game, which Jim pitched, the best he could do was to make it a tie, called in the twelfth on account of darkness.

This time it was not luck that gave to the Giants only one game out of three. They had as many of the breaks of the game as their opponents. They simply slumped. One of those mysterious things that come to almost every team once at least in a season had them in its clutches. Perhaps it was overanxiety, perhaps it was a superstitious feeling that a "jinx" was after them, but, whatever it was, it spread through the team like an epidemic. Their fingers were "all thumbs." Their bats had "holes" in them. The most reliable fielders slipped up on easy chances. They booted the ball, or if they got it they threw either too high or too low to first. Double plays became less frequent. Two of the best batters in the team, Larry and Burkett, fell off woefully in their hitting.

In vain McRae raged and stormed. In vain Robbie begged and pleaded and cajoled. In vain Jim and Joe, who still resisted the infection, sought to stem the tide of disaster. The members of the team with a few exceptions continued to act as if they were in a trance.

McRae did everything in his power to bring about a change. He laid off Willis and Iredell, and put two promising rookies, Barry and Ward, in their places. This added a little speed on the bases to the team, but did not materially add to the batting or fielding, for the rookies were nervous and made many misplays, while they were lamentably short on the "inside stuff" that takes long experience to acquire. He shook up the batting order. But the hits were still few and far between.

St. Louis gave the Giants a sound trouncing in the first game, but in the second the Giants came to life and reversed the score.

Joe was in the box in this contest, and as he came in to the bench in the fourth inning, he noted, sitting in the grandstand, a figure that seemed familiar to him. The man seemed to have seen Baseball Joe at the same time, but he hid himself behind the form of a big man sitting in front of him, so that Joe could not be sure of his identification.

"What were you looking at so steadily, Joe?" inquired Jim, as his friend sat down on the bench beside him. "Did you by any chance catch sight of the jinx that's been following us?" he continued jokingly.

"Maybe I did, at that," replied Joe. "I could have sworn that I got a glimpse of Bugs Hartley in the grandstand."

"Bugs Hartley?" echoed Jim in surprise. "How could that old rascal have got as far as St. Louis?"

"Beat his way, perhaps," answered Joe. "Of course I'm not dead sure but that I might have been mistaken. And I won't have much time to look for him while I'm in the box. But suppose in the meantime you go down to the coaching line near first. While you're pretending to coach, you can take an occasional look at the grandstand and see if you can pick out Bugs. He's somewhere about the third row near the center. Just where the wire netting is broken."

Jim did as suggested, and studied the grandstand with care. He had only a chance to make an affirmative nod of the head as Joe, the inning ended, went out again to the box, but when he returned after pitching the side out on strikes, Jim told Joe that he was right.

"It's Bugs all right," he said. "I had a good chance to see that ugly mug of his, and there can't be any mistake. But what in thunder can he be doing in St. Louis?"

"Oh, panhandling and drinking himself to death, I suppose," answered Joe carelessly, his mind intent upon the game.

"But how did he get here?" persisted Jim. "I don't like it, old man. It takes money to travel, and I don't think Bugs could hustle up railroad fare to save his life. And if somebody gave him the money to get here, why was it done? I tell you again, Joe, I don't like it."

"Well, perhaps it's just as well we caught sight of him," admitted Joe. "It will help us to keep our eyes open."

In the seventh inning for the Giants, with the score tied at 3 to 3, Larry started a rally for the Giants by lining out a screaming single to right. Denton followed with a hit to short that was too hot for the shortstop to handle. He knocked the ball down, however, and got it to first. Denton had thought the play would be made on Larry, who was already on his way to third. Denton, therefore, had rounded first and started for second, but saw the ball coming and scrambled back to first. There was a grand mixup, but the umpire declared Denton safe.

It was a close play, and the St. Louis team was up in arms in a moment. Some of them, including their manager, rushed to the spot to argue with the umpire. The crowd also was enraged at the decision and began to hoot and howl. One or two pop bottles were thrown at the umpire, but fell short.

Joe, who was next at bat, had taken his stand at the plate, awaiting the outcome of the argument. Suddenly a bottle, aimed with great skill and tremendous force, came through the broken wire netting, whizzed close by his head, the top of it grazing his ear in passing. If it had hit his head, it would have injured him greatly beyond a doubt.

Joe turned toward the stand and saw a man hastily making his way out toward the entrance. He could only see his back, but he knew at once to whom that back belonged.

"Stop him! Stop him!" he shouted, as he threw aside his bat and rushed toward the stand.

But Jim had already vaulted over the barrier and was rushing through the aisle.