“Looks like it,” I says. “Alexander and Rixey’d both ought to be ready again in a month and then Smitty’ll lose his home sure. And we’ll be absolutely last by that time.”
We was goin’ to Chi that night and I didn’t see no use o’ stickin’ in Dayton when I hadn’t had no orders to look at no one else but that one guy. Besides, Barnett told me they wasn’t nobody else on neither club worth lampin’. I’d of liked to of listened to some more o’ the stuff about the two jealous cats, but I had to beat it back to Cincy.
Well, on the way I done some thinkin’; but I was afraid to spring anything on Red for fear he’d laugh at me. We’ve all knew o’ cases where jealousy’d helped a ball club, and a lot more cases where it’d hurt ’em; but I hadn’t never heard o’ no case like this here one.
We got to Chi and the Cubs proceeded to murder us. Red was desp’rate and so was the rest o’ the gang. We dropped the first three and didn’t have no hopes o’ winnin’ the fourth unless Hank lost his mind and pitched the bat boy agin us.
I hadn’t never saw Fogarty. He’d been left to home when the Cubs come East in May. But I spotted him the first day out there to the Cubs’ park. He sure was a nice-lookin’ devil and big enough to pitch every afternoon and twicet on Sundays. He wasn’t doin’ no pitchin’ for them, though. They was lucky enough to have their reg’lars in shape and wasn’t obliged to fill up the box score with ornaments.
Well, I went up to Schulte durin’ battin’ practice and ast him what was the matter with Fogarty.
“Nothin’ at all,” says Frank. “I don’t figure they can be nothin’ the matter with a guy that draws his pay for sittin’ on the bench and lookin’ beautiful. I wisht I could get away with it.”
“Don’t he work none?” I ast.
“He pitches to the batters about oncet in two weeks,” says Frank. “He does it when Hank can get his consent. And on the days he pitches to us I manage to hide somewheres till the practice is over.”
“Why?” I ast.
“ ’Cause,” says Frank, “I figure that, barrin’ accidents, I got many happy years before me. If he was to happen to put all his stuff on the ball oncet and hit me in the head, they wouldn’t be nobody to drive the mules on my peach ranch in Georgia.”
“He’s got a lot o’ stuff, then?” I says.
“Yes,” says Frank; “and he’s savin’ it up for somethin’—maybe to give it away for a birthday present. All he does now is sit and wait for everybody to look away from him, so’s he can pull out his pocket mirror and enjoy himself.”
This dope fit in perfect with what Jack Barnett had been tellin’ me. I made up my mind right there that the thing was worth tryin’; but it took all the nerve I had to spring it on Red. My chancet soon come. He was put off the field in the second innin’ and I got myself chased right afterward. He was sittin’ in the clubhouse with his head in his hands when I come in.
“Red,” I says, “we couldn’t be worse off’n we are, could we?” He didn’t pay no attention. “We’d be better off if we had somebody that could pitch, wouldn’t we?” I says.
“What are you drivin’ at?” he ast.
“I want you to try a experiment,” I says. “It may not do no good, and then again it might. It might pull us through OK if you was willin’ to take a chancet.”
“Shoot,” says Red. “I’ll try anything oncet.”
“Do you think you could get Fogarty offen the Cubs?” I says.
“Could I get him?” says Red. “Sure I could get him! They just give me notice that they’d ast waivers. But what do I want with Fogarty? He’s another one just like this Smitty we got. I give him the oncet over today on their bench, and if they’s anybody in the world that’s lazier’n Smitty, he’s him. Don’t you think we’re carryin’ enough excess baggage?”
Then I told him what Barnett’d told me, only I made it even stronger. At first he called me a nut, and it took me pretty near till the game was over to coax him into it. He’d just gave up when the gang come in.
“How bad did they trim us?” ast Red.
“I don’t know,” says Magee; “but I know I chased back to that fence a hundred and sixteen times.”
“Better go see Hank,” says I to Red.
I had to pretty near drag him to get him out o’ the clubhouse. Hank was just goin’ in their door.
“Wait a minute, Hank,” I says. “Red wants to see you.”
“Just heard you was askin’ waivers on Fogarty,” says Red. “What do want for him?”
“I guess you can get him for the waiver price,” says Hank; “but you’ll have to see the boss.”
So me and Red went up to the office and sprung it on ’em. They seemed surprised, but said Red could have him. So Red wired home and got the deal OK’d. And Fogarty went with us to St. Louis.
Before we got on the train, Red told me I’d have to do the funny work. I said I’d tackle it, and then I went to Pat and explained the thing to him and ast for help. He was willin’ and we fixed it up that I was to room with
