Then came the Chicagos, who were still leading the League, but only by the narrow margin of one game. If the Giants could take three out of four from them, the Cubs would fall to second place.
Joe had made his pitching arrangements so that he himself would pitch the first and fourth games. He did so, and won them both. He had never pitched with more superb skill, strength and confidence, and the ordinarily savage Cubs were forced to be as meek as lapdogs.
They got even, to an extent, with Markwith, whom they fairly clawed to pieces in the second game. Jim pitched in the third, and but for a senseless play might have won.
That play was made by Iredell in the ninth inning, with the Giants making their last stand. The Cubs were three runs to the good. One man was out in the Giants’ half, Curry was on third and Iredell was on second, with Joe at the bat.
Suddenly, moved by what impulse nobody knew, Iredell tried to steal third, forgetting for the moment that it was already occupied.
“Back!” yelled Joe in consternation. “Go back!”
With the shout, Iredell realized what he had done, and turned to go back. But it was too late. The Cub catcher had shot the ball down to second, and Holstein, with a chuckle, clapped the ball on Iredell as he slid into the bag.
A roar, partly of rage, partly of glee, rose from the spectators, and Iredell was unmercifully joshed as he made his way back to the bench.
Joe, a minute later, smashed out a terrific homer on which Curry and he both dented the plate. But the next man went out on strikes, and with him went the game. If Iredell had been on second, he also would have come home on Joe’s circuit clout and the score would have been tied. The game would have gone into extra innings, with the Giants having at least an even chance of victory.
As it was, the Chicagos were still leading the League by one game when they packed their bats and turned their backs upon Manhattan.