He was in the latter frame of mind when, after practice, McRae led him to a secluded corner of the field. The manager looked about him to make sure that no one was within earshot, and then turned to Joe, saying abruptly:
“See here, Joe, I’m worried. There’s something wrong with this team—all-fired wrong. And that something is Reddy Hupft and McCarney. They’re not working right. They’re going stale and they’re having an effect on the rest of the team. Did you notice them to-day?”
“What about them?” Joe asked evasively.
“They’ve been drinking,” said McRae, pounding a big fist in the palm of his hand by way of emphasis. “I talked to Reddy, and his breath nearly knocked me over. And when a ball player begins to drink, you know as well as I do that that’s the end of him. I tell you, something’s got to be done or we’ll be getting new men for third base and center-field.”
For several minutes longer the manager aired his grievances with Joe as a sympathetic and equally worried listener and several times it was on the point of Joe’s tongue to tell McRae what had happened that day. But always something held him back.
“Wait,” said a voice within his brain. “Wait till you have some real evidence. Then you can not only talk, but act!”
[CHAPTER XIV]
A NO-HIT GAME
The time had now come for the Giants’ invasion of the West, and they started out in fine fettle, although they knew they had hard work ahead of them.