The first game justified the choice of McRae. Hughson was never in better form. He simply toyed with the opposing batsmen. His famous fadeaway was working to perfection. Twice he mowed down the side in one-two-three order. His control was absolute and not an enemy reached his base on balls. Three times there were men on the bags, once through an error and twice as the result of hits, but Hughson tightened up and they never got farther than second. It was a superb exhibition of twirling, and amid the frantic applause of the vast crowd the game ended with the score:
New Yorks 5, Chicagos 0.
First blood for the Giants!
[CHAPTER XXIX]
AN UNEXPECTED MEETING
There was great hilarity in the Giants’ camp that night, and this feeling was shared by the entire city. Now the Chicagos would have to take all the remaining games to win, and with Joe and Hughson pitching two of them, this seemed altogether unlikely.
Joe was on his way to the grounds the next morning to get a little preliminary practice. He just wanted to “toss up a few” to make sure that his arm was in perfect working order for the game that afternoon. He wanted to settle the thing then and there, so that the long strain would be over and the two remaining games would be simply for the sake of finishing out the schedule.
He had plenty of time, and for the sake of the walk he left the elevated train two stations this side of the Polo Grounds and walked north through Eighth Avenue. There were many vacant lots in this locality, and there were not very many people on the avenue at that hour.
He glanced carelessly at a man who passed him with his hat drawn down over his face. It struck him that there was something about the fellow that was vaguely familiar. Where had he seen that lean, sharp-featured face?