Uncle George roamed all around the vast emptiness of Sportsman's Park, looking for Jaybird. Less than 2,000 diehard Brownies' fans and hangers-on were scattered around the 35,000 seat stadium watching the home team take another drubbing, this time at the hands of the Cleveland Indians. Down on the field Hal Trosky, the menacing Cleveland first baseman was loosening up in the on-deck circle by swinging three bats. Not that he needed much loosening up, it was the 8th inning of the first game of a scheduled doubleheader and Trosky had already terrorized the Browns' best pitcher, Oral Hildebrand, with three hits, including two homeruns onto the roof of the right field pavilion, the last a three-run bolt in the 5th inning at a time when the Browns had actually held a 3-2 lead.
Uncle George had about decided that Jaybird was not here, and took a lonely seat near the Browns' dugout. He saw Earl Averill, who would be the American League centerfielder in the 5th annual All-Star game scheduled to be played in Griffith Stadium, Washington, D.C. two days hence, drill a line drive double down the right field line, putting runners on second and third, and bringing Rogers Hornsby to the top of the Browns' dugout to signal for a new pitcher. Hornsby could not be bothered to go to the mound when changing pitchers. The very concept of changing pitchers was a matter of deep disgust to him. When a pitcher took the ball to start a game for manager Hornsby, it was his job to finish the game, and by God that's what he would do up to the point where Hornsby could no longer stand to watch. Which is the position Hornsby found himself in at this moment ' in seven torturous innings, Hornsby had seen his best pitcher put 17 men on base with hits or walks, and allow 11 of them to score. To see Hal Trosky hit one more time off Oral Hildebrand was more than he could endure; he called for help. He called for Chief Hogsett out of the bullpen.
As the slim left-hander made his way from the bullpen to the mound, walking with a quick quirky gait, Uncle George had the odd feeling that he had seen this man before though it was not here at Sportsman's Park because until today he had never been here to see a Browns game. He heard the announcement over the public address system that the new pitcher was number 25, Chief Hogsett. Uncle George had never heard of Chief Hogsett, and yet when the southpaw began to take his warmup tosses, the high leg kick, and the twisting hesitation before releasing the ball, were unmistakeable. Had he not known that Jaybird's dad was just now back at Cottage Farm recovering from the blow to the head suffered at the knee of that vengeful Hillsboro Hillbilly yesterday, he would have sworn that it was Coach himself out there heaving balls plateward. When Hogsett's first delivery to Trosky came in high and tight under the chin, sending the big left-handed hitter spinning into the dirt, Uncle George shook his head to be sure he wasn't dreaming. The dream ended when Trosky, instead of bunting along the first base line, smashed the next delivery over the right field pavilion onto Grand Avenue for his third homerun of the day giving Cleveland a 14-4 lead, and bringing jeers and hoots from the weary Browns faithful.
Uncle George walked down the aisle to the railing bordering the field. He wanted to get a closer look at that pitcher. Staring out at the pitcher, who was stalking around the mound in disgust watching Trosky practice his homerun trot, Uncle George became aware of the Browns' batboy hustling out to deliver some new baseballs to the homeplate umpire. Had it not been for the big German Shepherd dog following him, Uncle George would not have given the batboy a second look, but when he did, he saw that it was Jaybird.
"Jaybird!" he shouted, hoping that this was not another dream.
Spotting his Uncle George, Jaybird came running over immediately, acting as if there was nothing unsual about him being hereon the field at Sportsman's Park wearing a major league baseball team uniform; it was as if it were just another game at Cottage Farm. "Uncle George," he cried, "I won twenty thousand dollars."
Uncle George was stunned. He sank into a seat, wondering if he was losing his mind. He stared blankly at the eager face of his nephew, Jaybird. Before he could speak he heard a loud voice from the nearby dugout call, "Hey, Jaybird, git yer butt in here." Jaybird turned and headed for the dugout, stopping before he entered to give his Uncle George a wave.
When the day's carnage was at last complete, Uncle George was almost alone in the stands. Even the diehards had left in disgust; who could stand to watch? In 18 ghastly innings, the Cleveland team had put 51 men on base, 29 of whom scored, the Browns were routed 14-4 in the first game, 15-4 in the second. The competition was better at Cottage Farm even if the games did occasionlly end in a brawl as happened yesterday after Jaybird's dad was felled.
But Jaybird didn't care, what was winning compared to participating? When it was over, he climbed the railing and sat happily next to his Uncle George. "How do you like my uniform?" he asked.
"Your mom is worried sick," said Uncle George.
"Why?" asked Jaybird.
Uncle George looked at him to be sure he was serious. "She doesn't know you're a batboy for one thing, and then there's this thing about you being gone almost a week, and nobody knew where you were except that you were with somebody called Crazy Dan. On top of that the horse doctor in Grubville told her he cut off your finger. Believe it or not Jaybird, but your mother really does care what happens to you."
Jaybird had only a vague idea of what it meant to worry. He had heard his dad often enough tell his mom not to worry, but it was not something that very much concerned him. "She'll feel better when I bring her the money," he said.
"You have a lot of explaining to do, Jaybird," said Uncle George.
"I bet on Mr. Hornsby's horse," said Jaybird.
There were a lot of questions Uncle George wanted to ask, but somehow the figure of $20,000 Jaybird had casually mentioned loomed over everything. "What did you use for money?" he asked.
"I used the money Phil won in the crap game," Jaybird exclaimed.
Uncle George looked at his 10 year-old nephew in wonder, bordering on amusement. He knew that Jaybird's mother would not be amused that her innocent son was caught up in adult pastimes. He also knew that Jaybird's dad would be highly entertained by the revelation. He started to ask who Phil was, but then remembered. "Your dad's hurt, Jaybird," he said.
"What happened?" asked Jaybird.
Uncle George described what happened, then said, "When I left after the game to come here, he was still unconscious."
Jaybird jumped up. "We have to go see him," he said.
Uncle George agreed. "It's why I came to look for you," he said.
Jaybird jumped over the rail and headed for the dugout, motioning for Uncle George to follow. Suddenly he stopped. "What about Phil?" he said.
"Who is Phil?" asked Uncle George.
Jaybird was not sure how to answer the question. Phil seemed to be so many people it would take a long time to explain, and Jaybird wasn't sure it would make any sense even if he tried. He also knew he couldn't leave without talking to Phil. On top of that, Phil had the money. Then he had a thought. "Phil was the Browns' pitcher," he said.
Uncle George asked, "You mean that lefthander who coughed up Trosky's third homer in the first game and got shelled in the second game? The one that looks like your dad? I thought his name was Chief Hogsett."
Jaybird nodded. "He does look like my dad don't he? I noticed that too. He was subbing for Chief Hogsett."
Uncle George was confused. But not as confused as he was going to be.
"Come on," said Jaybird, "let's go talk to him, he's in the clubhouse."
When they found him in the clubhouse, Phil was coming out of the shower room with a towel wrapped around his hips. Jaybird walked up to him and said, "Phil, this is my Uncle George, he's come to take me home."
Phil smiled broadly. "Pleased to meet you Uncle George," he said.
Uncle George shook hands with Phil. "So you're the crazy guy everybody's been talking about," he said, "Jaybird's mom has got the idea you're some kind of lunatic."
Phil grinned. "Ah sometimes like to make people think that," he said.
Uncle George continued. "That horse doctor over in Grubville said they call you Crazy Dan."
"They do," said Phil,"but they's a lot of crazy people in Grubville, ah reckon ah ain't no crazier than them, although sometimes ah like to make `em think so."
"Did Jaybird tell you how much you look like his dad?" asked George.
"He did," said Phil, "' ah take it as a wonder." He was standing by a locker, putting his clothes on.
"It is a wonder," said George, " I saw you pitch today, you even pitch like Jaybird's dad."
Phil was honest. "Well, ah don't know if you could call what ah was doin' out there today pitchin'. Ah don't reckon some of the guys who had to duck them line drives they was hittin' off me would call it pitchin'. Did you hear them fans yellin' `get the married men off the infield?' Ah thought that was pretty good advice." He laughed.
Jaybird said, "Uncle George told me my dad got hurt in a ballgame at Cottage Farm yesterday."
George described to Phil what had happened. Phil nodded. "Ah know that old trick," he said, "ah've had it pulled on me before. How bad is he hurt?"
"He was still unconscious when I left after the game yesterday," answered George.
Phil shook his head."We better get on back there in a hurry," he said.
Jaybird was surprised. "You goin' back with us, Phil?" he asked, "What about the Browns?"
"Ah cain't show mah face around here for a spell, Jaybird," said Phil, smiling. "Ahm afraid Hornsby would break a bat over mah head after what happened out there today. Chief Hogsett is on his own for a while."
Uncle George had another question. "Jaybird said he won some money?"
Phil grinned. "He damn sure did that all right Uncle George." He reached into his locker and pulled out his beat up old back pack. He spread it open for George to see. It was stuffed with bundles of one hundred dollar bills.
Uncle George could hardly believe his eyes. He had never seen so much money in his life. He looked at Phil and then at Jaybird trying to think of something intelligent to say. He was speechless. He looked around the room. Most of the players were dressed and gone, nobody was paying any attention to them. At last George found his tongue. "Is it safe?" he asked.
Phil nodded. "Oh sure," he said, "these Brownies may be bad ball players, but they don't take money that belongs to little kids, even if it's four or five times what they make playin' ball. They know what it means to hit it big on a horse ' well maybe not this big."
"But isn't this your money?" asked Uncle George. "Jaybird said he bet with your money."
Phil shook his head. "Naw," he said, "this dough is Jaybird's, he's the one who was smart enough to make the bet. I'll just take my $500 ' that'll last me for a long time."
"Jaybird said it was twenty thousand dollars," said Uncle George.
Phil nodded. "More or less," he said.
Just as Jaybird had only a vague idea of what it meant to worry, he had only the slightest notion of the value of money. One thing he did know about money was that his mom worried a lot about it. "Mom can stop worrying about money now," he said. He thought a moment, then added,"But she'll think of something else to worry about' I want to buy her a present."