“I shouldn’t wonder,” answered Joe somberly. “He’s quick as a flash to sense anything, and I noticed a shadow on his face as he watched you when we were talking about Clara. Hang it all!” he burst out, with a vehemence that startled Mabel. “If Clara throws him down, I’ll never forgive her, even if she is my sister. What’s the matter with the girls nowadays, anyway? Haven’t they any sense?”
“Some of them have,” answered Mabel. “Myself, for instance. That’s the reason I married you, Joe dear.”
“For which heaven be thanked,” responded Joe, with a fervor that left nothing for Mabel to desire. “I’m the luckiest fellow on earth. And just because I am so happy, I want Jim to be happy too.
“Then, there’s another thing,” he went on, “which, while it’s infinitely less important than Jim’s happiness, is important, just the same. That is the effect it will have on the chances of the Giants. We never needed men to be in shape to do their best work as much as we need them now. And the most important men on any team are the pitchers. I’m not saying that because I’m a pitcher, but because it’s a simple fact that every one knows. Let the pitchers go wrong, and the best team on earth can’t win. And a pitcher that has a load of trouble on his mind can’t do his best work. How do you suppose Jim can keep up to his standard if Clara does her best to break his heart?”
“I suppose that’s true,” assented Mabel. “And yet I thought he pitched well to-day.”
“He doesn’t know all we know,” replied Joe. “He just has a suspicion, and he’s trying to assure himself that it’s groundless. But even at that, he wasn’t in his usual form this afternoon. You may not have noticed it, but I did. He got by because the boys played well behind him and because the Cubs let down and played indifferent ball. But he wasn’t the old Jim. Already that thing is beginning to work on him. And if the worst happens, it will break him all up—at least, for the present season. If I had that sister of mine here this afternoon, I’ll bet she’d hear something that would make her ears burn.”
Mabel soothed him as best she could, but her own heart was heavy as she thought of the possibilities that the future held in store for poor Jim.
From Chicago the Giants went to St. Louis, the last stop on their Western schedule. Here they had some hopes of redeeming themselves and making up for their recent failures, for the Cardinals were going none too well. Mornsby, their famous shortstop, had had a quarrel with the manager, and was seeking to get his release to some other team, any one of which would have snapped him up at a fabulous price. There were rumors of cliques in the team, and their prospects for the season were none too flattering.
But no matter how poorly a team had been going, they always seemed to brace up when they were to meet the Giants. They reserved their best pitchers for those games, and the fans came out in droves in order to see the proud team of the Metropolis humbled.
So the clean sweep that the Giants had been hoping for did not materialize. Markwith, to be sure, carried off the first game by a comfortable margin. He was one of the pitchers who when he was good was very good indeed, and on that day his southpaw slants were simply unhittable.