“No, that’s just what I don’t want to do,” objected Joe slowly. “Give a rascal rope enough and he’ll hang himself. In the first place, while I’m pretty well convinced in my own mind that all these things were done deliberately, I might not be able to convince others beyond a reasonable doubt. Of course they would be explained away by the men themselves as accidents, and there would be many who would believe them.
“Then, too, I’m thinking of the good of the game. You know what a black eye baseball got when that White Sox conspiracy to throw games came to light. For a time it looked as though it might mean the death of the game. Luckily, it didn’t have that result, for the bulk of the public know what you and I know, that as a general thing baseball is as clean as a hound’s tooth—the whitest game of all American sports, except perhaps football. For forty years there hadn’t been a breath against it. But at last that sickening White Sox scandal showed that once in a blue moon certain ball players were weak enough or foul enough to betray their teams, their employers and the public.
“That one lapse, that one black spot on the splendid record of the game, the public has forgiven in justice to the thousands of players that would cut off their right hands rather than not play the game fairly and squarely for all that is in them. The fans have wiped that off the slate. But don’t you see that if anything else of the kind should break out now it might kill the game beyond recovery?”
“Sure thing,” assented Jim. “But at the same time I don’t see why you should let those fellows get away with it when perhaps your life might pay the penalty. It’s all right to think of the good of the game, but there’s a duty you owe to yourself and to others—to Mabel for instance.”
“Yes, I’ve thought of all that,” said Joe, a look coming into his eyes at the mention of Mabel’s name that she would have been glad to see. “Don’t think for a minute that I’m going to be a martyr or anything like that. I’m not built that way. If those fellows are really out to do me, they’ll find before long that they have met their match. You know how many times rascals have tried to get the best of me and what’s happened to them. They’ve doped my coffee, they’ve tried to kidnap me, to smirch my reputation, and more than once they’ve tried to cripple or kill me. But they’ve never been able to put it over, and I’ve come out on top every time. And I’ve got a hunch that this present plot, if it really is a plot, is going to be knocked out like the others.
“But it’s going to be done on the quiet. They’ll get all that’s coming to them, but if I can help it the public won’t get wise to just what it is that’s put them down and out. Understand?”
“I get you, old boy,” returned Jim. “If they succeed in their dirty work, they’ll be the first that ever turned the trick on Baseball Joe. Count on me to stand right by you.”
“I can always do that,” replied Joe warmly. “You’re always there when it comes to the showdown. But let’s put the matter out of our mind for the present. Here we are at the hotel. Let’s go out into the lot at the back and have a little pitching practice. I want to try out the hop on the ball that I’ve been developing this last week or two.”
“I saw you used it two or three times yesterday,” said Jim. “It’s a winner, all right. The boys from over the bridge didn’t know what to make of it. They were hitting inches under it.”
“I shan’t be satisfied until they are hitting a foot under it,” laughed Joe, as they went into the house.