Jimmy Kirkland and the Plot for a Pennant Part 13

Gamely they rallied in the fifth and again in the sixth inning, but failed to reach even terms again as Carver, the best pitcher of the Travelers, was holding them by clever work. Each time they forced men to within reaching distance of the plate he settled, and using more speed, checked the attacks and made the game one sequence of disappointments for the Bears.

The seventh inning proved uneventful, although the crowd arose and stood to urge the Travelers to make certain the victory and "rooted"

with the unholy glee that all crowds show over the downfall of a champion.

The eighth commenced. A base on b.a.l.l.s paved the way and gave the Bears a chance to exhibit their resourceful style of attack which had overthrown so many opposing teams. The Travelers played deep, believing that with two runs needed to tie the score the Bears would not attempt to sacrifice, and Noisy Norton hooked his bat around quickly, dropped a bunt down the third-base line, and beat the ball to first base before Pickett, the third baseman of the Travelers, who had been caught asleep, could reach the ball.

McCarthy glanced toward the seat where Edwards, the gambler, sat. Easy Ed's face was hard and set. He gripped the front of the box. The gambler's iron nerve was shaken. Swanson rushed to the plate, swinging two bats, and crouching, he pushed his bat back and forth as if determined to lay down a sacrifice bunt. The Traveler infield crept closer to stop the bunt. One ball was pitched wide. Again Swanson crouched, and as the second pitched ball came whizzing up he made a sharp, quick lunge; the ball went like a flash across first base, as Davis dived vainly toward it, rolled onto foul ground, and before the right fielder could retrieve the ball as it glanced along the front of the stands, two runs were across the plate and the score was tied.

McCarthy looked again. Edwards's usually stony face was writhing with fury and disappointment as he leaned forward. The panic had seized the Travelers. The infield was pulled close to intercept the runner at the plate, and the shortstop, over anxious to make the play, fumbled the easy grounder. Before the inning closed five runs were across the plate; the Bears had s.n.a.t.c.hed victory from defeat, and they clung to their lead and won 6 to 3.

As the last batter for the Travelers went out on a long fly to the Bears' center fielder, McCarthy saw Edwards rise and hurl his cigar viciously against the floor of the box, then turn to gaze long and earnestly toward the Bear bench. Suddenly he gave a nod of his head and McCarthy, following the line of the gambler's gaze, saw Williams flush and then pale, as he turned to help the bat-boy pack the clubs.

McCarthy had intended to follow Swanson's suggestion and to plan with Swanson what course to adopt in explaining to Manager Clancy how matters stood, but he did not have the opportunity. Waiting in the lobby of the hotel when he returned, he found Barney Baldwin, who accosted him.

"You're McCarthy, the fellow my niece, Miss Baldwin, introduced me to, aren't you?" he asked pompously, pretending to be uncertain of the ident.i.ty.

"Yes."

"Well, young fellow, I want to have a quiet little talk with you. Come up to my room at the Metropolis as soon as you get dressed. It's important."

They talked for a few minutes and McCarthy promised to come to the Metropolis after dinner. He hastened to his room, and to his disappointment found that Swanson had dressed hastily and already was gone. Nor did the big Swede come to dinner, and McCarthy was compelled to leave the hotel without seeing him in order to keep his engagement with Baldwin.

He was ushered into a pretentious apartment in the Metropolis, where Baldwin was awaiting him, with a bottle of wine in the cooler at the side of the table and a box of choice cigars at hand.

"Sit down, my boy, sit down," urged Baldwin cordially. "Have a drink and a cigar."

"Thanks--I'll smoke. I'm not drinking," said McCarthy quietly. "You wanted to see me?"

"Yes. You see I called Helen up over the long distance to-day and had quite a talk with her about you. She dropped a few hints before she left and I wanted to hear more of you."

"Then she told you who I am?"

"She told me you were a young man of good family and that you were playing under an a.s.sumed name--but, of course, having promised, she wouldn't tell more."

"Now, I know how it is. You're in some trouble at home and just bull-headed enough to refuse to give in. I admire you for it, my boy--but it is youthful folly. Helen tells me she was engaged to you, but broke off the engagement because you wouldn't go back home and quit baseball. Now I want to see the thing in the right light. You come and run down to my summer place with me to-morrow, spend a week or two there with Helen, get things straightened out, and meanwhile I'll act as peacemaker and fix things up so you can go home and eat the fatted calf."

"You've tackled a tough job," said McCarthy, grinning in spite of himself at the mental picture of his uncle receiving overtures in his behalf from Barney Baldwin, his bitterest enemy.

"I'm certain it is a mere trifle when looked at in the right light,"

urged Baldwin. "I can explain things. I'll wire your people that you are visiting with us, and we'll forget all about this baseball foolishness. Better come along."

"I thank you for your good intentions, Mr. Baldwin," replied McCarthy quietly, "but it is impossible. In the first place, the plan you suggest would be about the worst possible--and more important than that, I can't quit the team until it wins the pennant."

"Now we're getting down to cases, my boy," said Baldwin, smoking easily. "I want you to go, for your own sake, but I also want you to go because I don't want the Bears to win that pennant. They haven't treated you right, and they can't blame you if you quit."

"You want me to throw the pennant race?" demanded McCarthy angrily.

"That's why you want me to leave the team, is it? I'll see you in h---- first--I'm in bad with the manager--but I won't quit the team."

"Now, now, my boy," interrupted Baldwin soothingly. "Take a sensible view of it. It's for the best interests of all concerned. It don't mean anything to you if you run back home, square yourself with the family--and quit interfering with our plans."

"You're a crook, Baldwin," said the third baseman threateningly. "My uncle, James Lawrence, always said you were a crook and a thief, and now I know it. I wouldn't quit now for all his money and all yours together. I'll stick to the team and we'll win this pennant in spite of you and your rotten gang."

The effect of his words caused him to stop in surprise and alarm. The big man, who had been sipping his wine, suddenly grew apoplectic and sat staring at him. Baldwin stared at the slender youth as if at a ghost. Suddenly he lurched forward as if to arise, and emitted a torrent of oaths.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Baldwin stared at the slender youth]

"You Jim Lawrence's nephew?" he half screamed. "You his boy? Well, by ----, I'll break you. I'll fix you--I'll"----

He pitched forward as if in a fit, and McCarthy, after ringing for a.s.sistance, waited until the house physician had revived the big man, then hurried back to his hotel, puzzled and excited and vaguely alarmed over the developments of the evening.

Swanson was not yet in the room.

CHAPTER XIII

_McCarthy Balks the Plotters_

It was past two o'clock when McCarthy was awakened from his troubled sleep by the entrance of Swanson.

"h.e.l.lo, Silent," said McCarthy sleepily. "What time is it?"

"Past two," said the shortstop, for once seeming unwilling to talk.

"Better get to sleep--you'll be in again to-day."

"Where have you been?" asked McCarthy, wide awake in an instant and interested.

"Trailing," replied Swanson. "I've found out a few things. Meanwhile I had a talk with Clancy. You little squarehead, why didn't you tell him I was with you? Do you want to get yourself in bad by some fool notion of protecting me? I couldn't tell him what we were doing--but I told him you were with me, that you weren't drinking, and that you weren't with Edwards."

"What have you been doing all night?" asked McCarthy, restored to happiness by the tidings.

"Finding out things. I trailed Williams downtown right after the game.

He had dinner with Edwards in a private room. I couldn't find out what happened, but Williams came out looking as if he had been jerked through a knot hole. Then Edwards met that fat party that had you in his room."

"Is he in it, too?" asked McCarthy.

"Yes--who and what is he?"

"His name is Baldwin. He's a big politician and broker here in the East and I knew him out West, where he owns a ranch."

"What did he want with you?"

"He wanted me to quit the team and run back home. I told him where he got off. The idea of asking me to quit the boys now, when they may need me!"

"I can imagine what you said," laughed Swanson. "Did you kick him on the s.h.i.+ns and try to make him fight?"

"I wanted to," replied McCarthy savagely. "I can't see where he gets into this affair at all. There's something queer all round."