Produced by Donald Cummings and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
[Illustration: JOE SLID INTO THE RUBBER IN A CLOUD OF DUST.]
“BASEBALL JOE OF THE SILVER STARS,” “BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING,” “THE RIVAL PITCHERS,” “THE EIGHT-OARED VICTORS,” ETC.
BASEBALL JOE OF THE SILVER STARS BASEBALL JOE ON THE SCHOOL NINE BASEBALL JOE AT YALE BASEBALL JOE IN THE CENTRAL LEAGUE BASEBALL JOE IN THE BIG LEAGUE BASEBALL JOE ON THE GIANTS BASEBALL JOE IN THE WORLD SERIES BASEBALL JOE AROUND THE WORLD BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING BASEBALL JOE SAVING THE LEAGUE BASEBALL JOE, CAPTAIN OF THE TEAM
THE RIVAL PITCHERS A QUARTERBACK’S PLUCK BATTING TO WIN THE WINNING TOUCHDOWN FOR THE HONOR OF RANDALL THE EIGHT-OARED VICTORS
Copyright, 1924, by CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY
CHAPTER PAGE I QUEER TACTICS 1 II A BITTER STRUGGLE 10 III THROWN AWAY 24 IV FROM BAD TO WORSE 34 V A STARTLING SUGGESTION 44 VI PERPLEXING PROBLEMS 52 VII BAD NEWS FOR JIM 64 VIII THE HIDDEN-BALL TRICK 73 IX THE NEW CAPTAIN 85 X GETTING IN SHAPE 95 XI WINGING THEM OVER 104 XII AN AMAZING FEAT 119 XIII CLEVER STRATEGY 130 XIV DEEPENING MYSTERY 143 XV TROUBLE BREWING 148 XVI OUT FOR REVENGE 156 XVII STEALING HOME 162 XVIII A TEST OF NERVE 167 XIX THE WARNING BUZZ 172 XX THE PACKAGE OF MYSTERY 177 XXI DROPPING BACK 182 XXII UNDER HEAVY STRAIN 189 XXIII BLUNDERING OLD REGGIE 195 XXIV GETTING A CONFESSION 204 XXV IN THE DEPTHS 210 XXVI OFF HIS STRIDE 216 XXVII TAKEN BY SURPRISE 221 XXVIII A FRESH SPURT 226 XXIX THE SNAKE’S HEAD 233 XXX THE FINAL BATTLE 243
“No use talking, Joe, we seem to be on the toboggan,” remarked Jim Barclay, one of the first string pitchers of the Giant team, to his closest chum, Joe Matson; as they came out of the clubhouse at the Chicago baseball park and strolled over toward their dugout in the shadow of the grandstand.
“You’re right, old boy,” agreed Joe--“Baseball Joe,” as he was known by the fans all over the country. “We seem to be headed straight for the cellar championship, and at the present rate it won’t be long before we land there. I can’t tell what’s got into the boys. Perhaps I’m as much to blame as any of the rest of them. I’ve lost the last two games I pitched.”
“Huh!” snorted Jim. “Look at the way you lost them! You never pitched better in your life. You had everything--speed, curves, control, and that old fadeaway of yours was working like a charm. But the boys played behind you like a lot of sand-lotters. They simply threw the game away--handed it to the Cubs on a silver platter. What they did in the field was a sin and a shame. And when it came to batting, they were even worse. The home run and triple you pasted out yourself were the only clouts worth mentioning.”