Jim too was fairly stuttering with his pride in his chum’s achievements.
“Picked the game right out of the fire,” he exulted. “Tied it first and won it afterward. Joe old fellow, you’re in a class by yourself. And that steal home! They’ll talk about it all the season.”
“Well,” replied Baseball Joe, with a grin, “I got rather homesick on third, and that home plate looked mighty good to me.”
Then Hughson came along with his congratulations, and these perhaps were the greatest reward that Joe could have asked for his day’s work.
For Hughson had been Joe’s baseball idol for the last ten years. For at least that period of time, Hughson had been confessedly the greatest pitcher that baseball had ever seen. During that decade he had been the mainstay of the Giant team. When Hughson was slated to pitch, his mates were ready to chalk that game up in advance as won. And on the other hand, the opposing team was almost ready to concede the game before it was played. He had speed, curves and everything. At the most critical stage of a game he never lost his head. There might be three men on bases and none out, but that never disturbed Hughson. He would bring his wonderful “fadeaway” into action and the batters would go down like ninepins. He had brawn—plenty of it—but in addition he had brain, and when it came to strategy and quick thinking there was no one to be compared with him.
But it was not merely his remarkable skill that had made him the hero of the baseball world. He was a gentleman through and through. He had had a college training and could meet and talk with educated men on equal terms. He was upright in his principles, clean in his living, quiet, plain, and unassuming. He was hail fellow well met with the other members of his team, and in fact with baseball players everywhere. Everybody liked him, and those who knew him best had a warm affection for him.
Nor was there the slightest touch of jealousy about him. If any one else could take his laurels by showing that he was a better pitcher, Hughson welcomed the opportunity to give him every chance to do so. He was wholly wrapped up in the success of his team, and was only too glad to see any one helping to gain that success. His treatment of Joe since the latter had joined the team had been cordial in the extreme. He coached him, encouraged him, and did everything in his power to make him the star pitcher he saw he was destined to become.
Hughson had been hurt in a collision just before the final games of the previous year, and had not been able to take part in the World Series. His arm had become better, but he was still in no condition to pitch. So that it had been merely as a spectator that he had witnessed the triumph of the Giants in this opening game of the season.
Joe’s eyes lighted up as he saw Hughson coming toward him with extended hand.