His arm still felt strong, and his control was little short of marvelous. The first man to face him was struck out on three pitched balls, the second fouled weakly to Mylert and was put out easily. The third man lifted a high fly toward third base. This ball really belonged to McCarney, but in an instant Jim resolved to take no chances. He started running for the ball at the same instant as McCarney.
“It’s my ball! Keep away!” shouted McCarney.
Jim paid no heed. He grabbed the ball as it descended and at the same instant collided with McCarney. The third baseman was hurled sprawling several feet away, but Jim kept his feet, although he was badly shaken. But the batter was out, and the Giants had won the game.
“Confound you!” growled McCarney, as he struggled to his feet. “What do you mean by taking that play out of my hands? I’ll get you for this, you see if I don’t!”
“You know blamed well why I took it,” retorted Jim. “I took it because I couldn’t trust you to make a straight play on it. And if you want to make a fuss about it I’ll tell the whole world the same thing.”
“Aw, you’ve got me wrong,” protested McCarney, his threat changing to a whine. “I’ve just been running in a streak of bad luck lately, and here you and your pal try to hang it on me that I’m throwing the games. Lay off, can’t you?”
Jim did not even take the trouble to answer this, but made the best of his way to the clubhouse. A mob of cheering fans was pouring down on to the field by this time, and he had to hurry his pace in order to escape their attentions.
In the clubhouse there was a hot discussion going on over the merits of Jim’s play. The general attitude was that “all’s well that ends well,” though some thought that Jim should have left the play to McCarney. However, the wiser ones had been suspicious of the new players of late, and could guess pretty accurately the motives that had impelled Jim to act as he did. But above all else was rejoicing that they had won the game, and Jim was the hero of the hour.
The one thought uppermost in the pitcher’s mind was to be off in search of his missing friend, and he was impatient of delay. As soon as possible he slipped out of the clubhouse and set off on his difficult quest.
In this he had little to guide him, and he had no other plan save to watch for McCarney and shadow him, as Joe had done the day before. But this was not so simple a matter now, for the recreant third baseman had been rendered wary by Joe’s discovery of the gamblers’ house, and when he came out of the clubhouse he glanced cautiously in every direction before he started off at a brisk walk in the direction of the nearest subway station.