CHAPTER XIX

A CLOSE CALL

The people in the grandstand had not fully grasped the significance of the cowardly attack, as the attention of most of them was centered upon the dispute at first base. But the shout of Baseball Joe and the rush of Jim through the aisle of the stand had brought them to their feet, and some of them started in pursuit or tried to stop the flying figure of the fugitive.

But this very desire of so many to apprehend him helped in his escape. Men crowded in the aisle, and Jim, who could otherwise have captured him, found himself in the midst of a throng that effectually hindered his progress. He pushed his way through desperately, using his arms and hands to clear a passage, but by the time he arrived at the outer edge, the man had disappeared. Either he had mixed with the enormous crowd or had found his way through one of the numerous exits. In any event, he was not to be seen, and at last Jim, flaming-eyed and dripping with sweat from his exertions, had to come back empty-handed.

In the meantime, the umpire had asserted his authority at first base, and given the St. Louis players one minute by his watch to resume play. With much muttering and grumbling they obeyed. The decision stood, and Larry was on third, while Denton danced around on first and "kidded" the Cardinal first baseman on the umpire's decision.

Joe again took up his position at the plate, the fairer-minded among the spectators giving him a cheer as he did so, to express their indignation at the dastardly attack that had been made on him. He was somewhat shaken by the close call he had had, and the first two balls were strikes. Then he took a grip on himself, and when the next one came over he smashed a beauty to right. It went for two bases, while Larry scored easily, and Denton by great running and a headlong slide also reached the plate. The next man up sacrificed Joe to third, but there he remained, as the next two batters, despite McRae's adjurations, were not able to bring him in.

The Giants, however, had now broken the tie and had a two-run lead, and although that ended their scoring, it was sufficient, as Joe put on extra steam and mowed down the Cardinals almost as fast as they came to the bat. One hit was made off him for the remainder of the game, but as the batter got no farther than first there was no damage done.

Joe and Jim did not care to discuss the matter before their mates, and the attack was put down to some rowdy who was sore at the umpire's decision and took that method of showing it. But the two friends knew that it was much more than that.

"Well, what do you think now of my hunch?" demanded Jim, when the chums were alone together. "Was I right when I said I was uneasy about that fellow being in the grandstand?"

"You certainly were, Jim," answered Joe. "It must have been Bugs who threw that bottle. I know at any rate that it was he whom I saw hustling out of the stands. And when I looked at where he had been sitting the seat was empty."

"It was Bugs all right," affirmed Jim with decision. "I saw his face once, when he glanced behind him while he was running. Then, too, only a pitcher could have hurled the bottle with the swiftness and precision that he did. It went nearly as far as the pitcher's box before it struck the ground. Gee! my heart was in my mouth for a second when I saw it go whizzing past your ear. If it had hit you fair and square, it would have been good night."

"It did barely touch me," replied Joe, pointing to a scratch on his ear. "The old rascal hasn't forgotten how to throw. How that fellow must hate me! And yet I was the best friend that he had on the team."

"He hates you all right," replied Jim. "But it wasn't only his own personal feeling that prompted him to do that thing to-day. That isn't Bugs' way. He'd dope your coffee on the sly. Or he'd throw a stone at your head in a dark street, as he did that time when we'd started on our tour around the world. But to do a thing in the open, as he did to-day, means that he had a mighty big incentive to lay you out. That incentive was probably money. Somebody has put up the cash to send him to St. Louis, and that same somebody has probably promised him a big wad of dough if he could do you up. The chance came to-day, when the fans began to throw bottles at the umpire. He figured that that was the time to get in his work. If he'd been caught, he could have said that he was only one of a good many who did the same thing, and that he had no idea the bottle was going to hit anybody."

"Then you think that Bugs this time was acting as the tool of Braxton, or whoever it is that's trying to put me out of business," remarked Joe.

"Think so!" cried Jim. "I'm sure of it. So many things, all pointing to deliberate purpose, don't happen by accident. The same fellow who hired those auto bandits to cripple you hired Bugs for the same purpose. Lots of people have heard of the hatred that Bugs has for you. I suppose he's panning you all the time in the joints where he hangs out. This fellow that's after your hide has heard of Bugs and put him on the job. If he can't get you in one way, he's going to try to get you in another. He figures that some time or other one of his schemes will go through. Gee!" he exclaimed, jumping up and pacing the floor, "what would I give just to come face to face with him and have him in a room alone with me for five minutes. Just five minutes! I'd change his face so that his own brother wouldn't know him."

"I hope that job's reserved for me," replied Joe, as his fist clenched. "He'd get a receipt in full for all I owe him."

"In the meantime, what shall we do about Bugs?" asked Jim anxiously. "He ought to be put in jail. It isn't right that a man who's tried to cripple another should be at large."

"No," agreed Joe, "it isn't. But I don't see just what we can do about it. The chances are ten to one against his being found. Even if he were, nobody could be found probably who saw him actually throw the bottle. We didn't ourselves, though we feel absolutely certain that he