"It was for me, anyhow," said Joe. "I don't know what might have happened to me if I had drifted much farther."
Joe explained how it had happened, and the unreasoning rage of Shalleg toward him.
"He ought to be sent to jail for life, to do such a thing as that!" burst out Mr. Kirk. "You'll inform the police; won't you?"
"I think I had better," said Joe, thoughtfully.
The motor began its throbbing, and the big boat cut through the water, towing the small craft, in which Joe had spent so many uncomfortable hours.
The young pitcher was himself again, thanks to a good breakfast, and when the dock was reached was able to talk to Manager Watson over the telephone. It was then nearly noon, and Joe was in no shape to get in the game that day.
To say that the news he gave the manager astonished Mr. Watson is putting it mildly.
"You stay where you are," directed his chief. "I'll send someone down to see you, or come myself. We'll get after this Shalleg and his gang. This has gone far enough!"
"What about the game to-day?" asked Joe.
"Don't you worry about that. We'll beat the Phillies anyhow, though I was counting on you, Joe. But don't worry."