Iredell grunted something that McRae chose to accept as an affirmative. But he would have changed his opinion if he had seen the ugly glare in Iredell’s eyes and the clenched fist that Iredell shook at the manager’s back as the latter walked away.
“Give me a dirty deal and expect me to take it lying down, do you?” he snarled. “You’ve got another guess coming, and don’t you forget it!”
Although Iredell had himself offered his resignation, he had only done it to take the wind out of McRae’s sails and put himself in a better strategic position. If worst came to worst, he could save his pride by saying that he had resigned of his own accord instead of being “fired.”
But he had hoped, nevertheless, that the resignation would be refused and that McRae, after perhaps giving him a lecture, would accord him another chance. The prompt acceptance had caught him off his balance, and he was full of rage at the conviction that McRae had sought him out for the express purpose of displacing him.
As Robbie had previously intimated, Iredell was a poor sport. The events of the last few days should have taught him that the duties of captain were too much for him. But like many other people, he was inclined to blame everything and everybody else for his own shortcomings. He had been intensely vain of his position as captain of the team. His nature was, at bottom, petty and vindictive, and from the moment it dawned upon him what had happened to him, he framed a resolution to do all that lay in his power to thwart the plans of his successor. If he had failed, he would try to prove that whoever took his place could do no better.
With his resentment was mingled curiosity as to the man that was to succeed him. Who could it be? He ran over in his mind the other members of the outfield and infield, never once thinking of the pitchers, who were assumed to be out of the question. The more he pondered, the more puzzled he became. Well, after all, it did not matter. He would know soon enough. And whoever it was would find his work mighty hard for him, as far as he, Iredell, could make it so.
That night the Giants shook the dust of St. Louis from their feet, and with a sigh of relief, not unmingled with apprehension, took the train for the long jump home. Relief that the disastrous Western trip was at last over. Apprehension at the reception they would meet from the newspapers and fans of New York.