McRae and Robbie were all smiles as Joe dented the rubber.
“That was some wallop,” beamed McRae. “I’ll bet there has never been such another one made on these training grounds.”
“Sure, the ball’s going yet,” exulted Robbie. “It won’t stop till it crosses the state line. Joe, my boy, you’re there with the goods. Keep up that kind of batting and pitching all through the season and we’ll have the flag sewed up.”
There was a lot of good-natured chaffing in the clubhouse, as the players changed into their street clothes. The Regulars were a little chagrined and the Yannigans correspondingly elated, but there was none of the glumness that would have followed a defeat by an outside team. When everything was said and done, it was all in the family. And the game had shown that the Giants as a team were in fine fettle and ready for the opening of the championship season.
The game had been quickly played, and it would be some time before supper would be ready in the hotel where the Giants were putting up during their stay in the little southern town where they were going through their spring training. So, instead of going directly back to their quarters, Joe and Jim took a roundabout way that led through the outskirts of the town.
They had reached a sparsely settled district where the houses were few and far between when an exclamation broke from Joe.
“Look!” he said, grasping his friend’s arm and pointing to a house a little way in front of them. “That house is on fire!”
Jim looked in the direction indicated.
“I don’t see any flames,” he said doubtfully. “Maybe it’s just the reflection of the setting sun on the window panes.”
“It’s fire, I tell you!” cried Joe.