This left Joe in a quandary. He realized that it would be practically impossible to board the car himself without being discovered, and yet if he did not it meant that his first attempt at “shadowing” would end almost as soon as it had begun.
The trolley started on, and Joe was revolving the possibility of keeping up with it on foot when a taxicab came careering out of a side street not a block away. With a heartfelt prayer of gratitude Joe dashed to the corner and hailed the vehicle just in the nick of time.
“Keep that trolley car in sight until I tell you to stop, and I’ll double your fare,” Joe promised the driver.
“That’s easy,” replied the other. “Them cars don’t go so fast but what this boiler can keep up with ’em without half tryin’. Just leave it to me.”
Joe kept an anxious eye on the trolley car, fearful that McCarney might alight with some other passengers and escape him. But nothing of the kind happened. The chase continued for a long distance before Joe saw the familiar figure of the third baseman come out to the back platform and hang on to the lowest step, evidently preparing to drop off at the next corner.
“Pull up, driver,” called Joe, and the man swung into the curb. Joe hastily paid him double the amount that the meter registered, together with a generous tip, and hastened after the retreating form of his quarry.
The neighborhood in this section was of a poor description, the houses being ramshackle affairs with a run-down and neglected appearance. McCarney was evidently on familiar ground, however, for he hurried along at a fast pace, apparently in such a hurry that he even forgot to glance behind him as was his usual custom.
This was a fortunate thing for Joe, as the street offered few places of concealment. He kept close to the houses on the opposite side of the street, keeping a wary eye on the suspected ball player. The latter had gone about two blocks when he suddenly stopped at the door of a house that looked even a little more dirty and out of repair than its neighbors, and rang the bell.
Joe was about half a block away at this time, and he glanced about for a place in which to conceal himself until McCarney should be safely inside. In the basement of a house near him there was a dirty looking little candy store, and Joe turned into this. He bought a bar of chocolate and made shift to talk with the storekeeper until he judged that McCarney must be inside the house.
When he ventured into the street again, the third baseman had disappeared, and Joe set himself to formulate some scheme that would get him inside the house. This project might well have daunted one less courageous than the star pitcher of the Giants. The neighborhood was close to the lower West Side waterfront of New York, and Joe knew that if he did manage to get inside the house he would probably find himself in the abiding place of a desperate set of men. However, he hesitated only long enough to decide on a plan of action, and then set boldly about its execution.