“Gallant old scout!” cried Jim, his eyes kindling. “I was sure he’d get into the scrap somewhere. The only way you could keep that old war horse out of the World Series would be to hit him with an axe!”
[CHAPTER XIV]
MORE HARD LUCK
“Won’t this make Boston feel sore!” Baseball Joe exulted.
“You bet it will,” chuckled Jim. “That’s the one thing they were banking on more than anything else. With Hughson out, they thought we didn’t have a chance.”
“Let’s get through breakfast in a hurry and run up and see the old boy,” cried Joe.
Jim needed no urging and they were soon in a taxicab and on their way to Hughson’s home.
They were met at the door by Mrs. Hughson, who greeted them with a pleasant smile and ushered them into the living room, where they found the great pitcher stretched out at his ease and running over the columns of the morning paper.
He jumped to his feet when he saw who his visitors were, and there was a hearty interchange of handshakes.