CHAPTER XXVIII

THE WORLD SERIES

It was a happy team of Giants that left Pittsburgh that night on the sleeper for New York. The season's strain was over. The coveted flag was theirs. They had fought their way through many discouragements, had stood the gaff, and now they were at the top of their League, with none to contest their title as champions.

"Some victory, eh, Joe?" remarked Jim to his chum.

"Right, Jim," was the ready reply.

To be sure a great battle loomed up ahead of them, but they welcomed that with eagerness. It meant thousands of dollars to every member of the team, win or lose. But they had no thought of losing. The return of their king pitcher to the box that afternoon, and the proof that he was in magnificent form, had filled them chock full of confidence.

And they were doubly glad that the Yankees were to be their opponents. That had been settled three days before, when the American League season had closed with the Yankees just nosing out the Clevelands at the finish. It was settled that every game of the World Series would be played in New York.

This meant that there would be no long, tiresome, overnight journeys between cities. But it meant more than that. It meant that the question would now be settled once for all as to which of the New York teams was the better.

This had been a mooted question for a good many years past. Each team had its warm friends and admirers, who were ready to back it through thick and thin. The Giants, of course, had been established longer, and had gained a strong place in the affections of the metropolis. Their games, as a usual thing, drew many more spectators than those played by their rivals. But of late the acquisition of Kid Rose by the Yankees had drawn the greater attention to that team, and the Giants had been cast in the shade. They were not used to this and did not relish it. They knew the Yankees were a strong team, but at the same time they believed that they could take their measure if it ever came to a showdown. Now that showdown was at hand, and the Giants were glad of it.

The public, too, were eager to have the question of supremacy settled. The metropolis was fairly seething with excitement over the series, and the hotels already were filling up with visitors from as far off as the Pacific Coast. Not only columns but whole pages of the newspapers were filled with comments and prophecies respecting the chances of the respective teams.

More than anything else in the public mind was the coming duel between Kid Rose and Joe Matson as home run hitters. Which would make the longer hits? Which would make the more home runs? These were the questions that were on the lips of the fans wherever two or more of them met. And the sporting pages of the daily newspapers were full of it.

The series this year was to consist of nine games if so many should be necessary. The team that first won five games would be the champions of the world. The members of the teams were to share in the money taken in at the first five games played, so that there would be no inducement to spin out the series. After certain percentages had been deducted sixty per cent was to go to the winners and forty per cent to the losers. The outlook was that each member of the winning team would get about five thousand dollars and each member of the losing team between three and four thousand, a difference great enough to make each player do his best, apart from his loyalty to his team.

Reggie had come up from Goldsboro, bringing Mabel with him, a charge of which Joe promptly relieved him. She seemed to Joe more distractingly beautiful than ever, and his heart thumped as he realized that in less than a month she would be his own. That had been arranged in their correspondence. The wedding would take place in Mabel's home in Goldsboro, and after their honeymoon they were to go to Riverside, to witness the marriage of Jim and Clara. The latter had hoped to come on to see the World Series, but Mrs. Matson was not well enough to come along, and Clara did not want to leave her. So poor Jim had to exercise patience and not be too envious of the almost delirious happiness of Joe and Mabel at being together.

A more exciting World Series than that which now began between the Giants and Yankees had never been known in the history of the game. Both teams were out for blood. Every man was on his toes, and the excited spectators were roused almost to madness by the almost miraculous stops and throws pulled off by the fielders. From the start it was evident that the nines were very evenly balanced, and that whichever finally won would in all probability do so by the narrowest kind of margin.

Victory seesawed between the teams. Joe pitched the first game, and the Giants won by 3 to 1. The Yankees took the second by 5 to 2. Jim held them down in the third to two runs, while the Giants accumulated six. The Yankees made it "fifty-fifty" by galloping away with the fourth game in a free hitting contest, of which Markwith was the victim, the final score being 9 to 5. The Giants again assumed the lead by copping the fifth by 4 to 0, Joe decorating his opponents with a necklace of goose eggs. They repeated on the following day, and with only one more game needed to make the five, it looked as though they would be certain winners. But the Yankees were not yet through, and they came back strong on the two succeeding days and evened up the score. Each had won four games. The ninth and final game would determine which team was to be the champions of the world.

In these contests, Joe had batted like a fiend. McRae had played him in every game, putting him in the outfield on the days that he was not scheduled to pitch. In the eight games, Joe had made six circuit clouts, in addition to four three-baggers, three two-base hits, and some singles. He was simply killing the ball.

Kid Rose also had done sterling work, and had rapped out five homers, besides a number of hits for a lesser number of bags. But Baseball Joe so far had outclassed him, both in the number and the length of his hits. There was no stopping him. High or low, incurve or outcurve, they were all the same to him. That eagle eye of his located the course of the ball unerringly, and when the ash connected with the ball that ball was slated for a ride.

There was no mistake about it. Joe had arrived. The batting crown was his. He had long since been recognized as the king of pitchers. Now he was hailed by acclamation as the greatest hitter in the game!