The Boston rooters were taking no chances and were perfectly willing to go without further baseball that afternoon, now that their favorites had the game won.
But their exhortations were unnecessary. Even McRae, clinging desperately to the last chance, could not in justice to his common sense urge that play should be continued. It was clearly impossible, and would have degenerated into a farce that would have risked the limbs of his athletes, to say nothing of the harm it would work to the game.
So there was no protest when the game was formally and finally declared off, and the disgruntled New Yorks gathered up their bats and strode from the field.
“Never mind, boys,” comforted McRae. “We can beat the Red Sox but we can’t beat them and the rain together. Better luck next time.”
“That listens good,” grumbled “Robbie,” who refused to be consoled. “But now we’ve lost the jump on them and it’s all to be done over again.”
“Well, we’re no worse off than they are, anyway,” returned the Giant manager.
“If we could only pitch Matson every day, the Series would be a cinch,” mused Robson.
“A copper-riveted cinch,” agreed McRae. “But I was mightily encouraged at the way young Barclay mowed them down. The ball didn’t look any bigger than a pea as it came over the plate.”
“He certainly had lots of stuff on the ball,” admitted Robson. “I wonder if he can stand the gaff for a full game.”
“I don’t know whether he’s seasoned enough for that yet,” said McRae, thoughtfully. “But it’ll stand a lot of thinking about. We’ll see first though how Hughson’s feeling when we get back to New York.”
The return journey to New York was not by any means so joyful as the trip out had been. Still, there was no discouragement in the Giants’ camp. They had played good ball and with the lead they had and the way Jim was pitching would probably have won if it had not been for the rain. And on the theory that the good and bad luck of the game usually struck an average, they felt that they were due to have the break in their favor the next time.
As for Joe and Jim, although, of course, they shared the chagrin of their mates, their cloud had plenty of silver lining. They had played their own parts well so far in the Series, and had no painful recollections to grow moody about. And then, too, were they not in the company of the two girls whom they devoutly believed to be the most charming in the world?