CHAPTER XI

A STARTLING DISCOVERY

It was bright and early the next morning when the two friends sallied forth right after breakfast. The air had a tang and sting to it that sent the blood coursing swiftly through their veins, and the delicious buckwheat cakes for which Mrs. Matson was famous formed no small element in their general sense of well-being.

“Now for Talham Tabbs!” exclaimed Reggie. “I’ll bet he’ll be stumped at seeing me again. He thinks I’m hundreds of miles from here, if he thinks of me at all. I’m mighty curious to see how he’ll carry things off.”

“He seems to be an artist at carrying things off,” laughed Joe, with a sly poke in Reggie’s ribs.

“You’re right there,” grinned Reggie, who could take a joke. “But you can bet if I get that bunch of securities back, it’ll have to be more than an artist who’ll get it away from me again. It’ll have to be a magician, at the very least.”

“I’ve been wondering what we’ll do,” he continued, “if the fellow refuses to talk.”

“I don’t think he’ll do that,” answered Joe. “He’ll probably realize that the jig is up and make a clean breast of the whole thing. If he doesn’t I’ll try my ‘secret society’ gag and see if it will work the second time. It worked like a charm once and may again.”

They had to pass the hotel, and Sol Cramer, who was standing just inside the door, motioned them to come in.

“Haven’t a minute to stop, Sol,” explained Joe, as they stepped inside. “I’m going down to the jail with this friend of mine who has special business with that crazy man. We may stop for a minute on our way back. We’ll have a little time to spare then. What’s up?”

“I won’t keep you long,” said Sol, after acknowledging Joe’s introduction of Reggie. “I just thought you might like to take a squint at the New York papers. They’ve just got in, and the sporting pages are full of that deal that puts you on the Giants.”

Joe was getting used by this time to having his picture and his name in the papers, but it was with an especial thrill that he noted how much space was bestowed on him and the flattering terms that the reporters had used in describing his prowess as a pitcher.

Flaring headlines headed each article in the various papers:

McRAE STRENGTHENS HIS PITCHING STAFF.

THE BIGGEST DEAL OF THE YEAR.

_Giants’ Prospects Brighten.--Now for the Pennant!_

Below each headline was an extended story, sketching Joe’s career from the time he had entered Yale up to the present, and all of them dwelling on his last year’s work with St. Louis, and the splendid game he had pitched against the Giants at the wind-up of the season. All agreed that it was this game that had clinched McRae’s determination to have Joe on his team.

“You seem to be the whole cheese,” remarked Sol, with a grin. “Just now you’re the most distinguished citizen of Riverside.”

“I’m afraid they’re spreading it on too thick,” said Joe, who knew how precarious was a baseball reputation. “By the end of the year they may be calling me a ‘has-been’ and roasting McRae for getting me on the team.”

“I’ll take a chance on that,” replied Sol confidently. “You’ve been going up the ladder steadily and you’re bound to climb higher. A fellow with your habits is good for ten or fifteen years yet in the big leagues--maybe twice as long as that.”

“That’s what!” chimed in Reggie emphatically. “It’s the old rounders who trail along with drink and who gamble that go back to the bushes. If a man lives straight and cuts out the booze, he can last as long in baseball as in anything else. Even after he gets a little too old for playing, there are plenty of splendid jobs as managers.”

“That’s right, too,” confirmed Sol. “Look at Griff and Clarkey and Jenn and Connie. Why, those fellows are getting enormous salaries!”

“Well, that’s looking a long way ahead,” laughed Joe. “Just at present my job is to make good as pitcher for the Giants, and I’ve got my work cut out for me to do it. But we’ll have to go now, Sol. Thank you for showing me the papers.”

“Save a copy of each of them for me,” said Reggie. “I’ll stop and get them on my way back. I want to cut them out and send them to Mabel,” he explained to Joe, as he hurried away. “She’s so interested in baseball news, you know.”

Joe knew, and he hoped that the interest had in it more of a personal touch than her brother seemed to suspect.

A few minutes’ brisk walk brought them to the jail, and Joe gave a vigorous tug at the bell.

They cooled their heels for two minutes without any response, and Reggie became somewhat impatient.

“Your jailer doesn’t seem to be an early riser,” he remarked. “What’s the matter with him?”

“Oh, Hank Bailey was never known to do anything in a hurry,” chuckled Joe. “Besides, he hasn’t any helper here except his wife, and I suppose he’s busy in some other part of the jail.”

Just then the door opened and Hank appeared. But it was a very different Hank from the boastful and self-confident individual of the day before. He nodded gloomily to Joe, and stared at his companion.

“What’s the matter, Hank?” questioned Joe. “You look as though you had lost the last friend you had on earth. Cheer up, the worst is yet to come.”

“The worst has come already,” responded Hank gloomily.

“What do you mean?” demanded Joe, in quick alarm.

“That crazy man has skipped!” blurted out Hank desperately, with the air of a man who wants to tell the bad news quickly and have it over with.

“What?” shouted Joe and Reggie in chorus.

“That’s what I said,” asserted Hank doggedly.

“When did he escape?” cried Joe, his anger rising.

“How did you come to let him get away from you?” demanded Reggie.

“You don’t suppose I let him go on purpose, do you?” snarled Hank, driven to bay. “He knocked me down and shut the cell door on me, and that’s the last I saw of him.”

“Now look here, Hank,” said Joe, who had gotten control of himself now that the first shock of surprise was over, “this is a serious thing. You’ve got to pull yourself together and think quick, talk quick, and act quick. Tell us now just what happened.”

“It was this way,” explained Hank, his sluggish nature spurred on somewhat by Joe’s sharp, decided tone. “He seemed all right when I went the rounds for the last time last night. Was just as gentle as a lamb. This morning, when I went in to take him his breakfast he was asleep, as far as I could make out. I stooped over to put the tray on the bench, when he suddenly jumped up and fetched me a clip under the chin that knocked me down, me not looking for anything of the kind. Before I could get to my feet, he’d dashed out the cell and shut the door on me. It shuts with a spring lock, and my keys were on the outside. Then he gives an awful laugh and runs down the corridor, and I suppose he let himself out of the front door. I hammered on the cell door and yelled until my wife heard me and came and let me out.”

“How long ago did all this happen?” asked Joe.

“About half an hour ago,” answered Hank.

“I thought you had him strapped to the bed,” said Reggie.

“So he was, but he had his watch and he broke the crystal and sawed away at the straps until they broke. I’ve just been looking over them.”

“But why haven’t you given an alarm?” demanded Joe. “Don’t you realize that a dangerous lunatic is at large and may kill somebody any minute?”

“I was just getting ready to,” answered Hank. “The truth is that I’m so dizzy and flabbergasted that I don’t rightly know whether I’m on my head or my heels.”

It was clear that it would not do to depend on the jailer, and Joe took the matter in his own hands.

“Come along, Reggie,” he cried. “The first thing is to get downtown and give the alarm. Then we’ll set the telegraph and the telephone going and organize a searching party. He can’t have gotten so very far away, and the chances are that we’ll get him yet. Come along.”

They hurried down to the office of the chief of police and told their story. The fire bell was rung, a thing that was done only in the case of a fire or an escape from jail, to put the people on their guard. The news spread like wildfire through the town. From telephone headquarters they called up every town within a radius of twenty miles and described the fugitive. Joe hurriedly called a number of his friends together, and in a few minutes automobiles and sleighs were dashing along every road that led out from town. They inquired at every farmhouse, questioned every passing traveler, fairly combed the surrounding country. All that day and far into the night they worked like troopers, only to return at last weary and defeated.

Talham Tabbs had vanished as completely as though the earth had swallowed him up!