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+      The Project Gutenberg eBook of Baseball Joe in the Big League, by Lester Chadwick
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+<pre>
+
+Project Gutenberg's Baseball Joe in the Big League, by Lester Chadwick
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Baseball Joe in the Big League
+       or, A Young Pitcher's Hardest Struggles
+
+Author: Lester Chadwick
+
+Release Date: December 21, 2008 [EBook #27584]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BASEBALL JOE IN THE BIG LEAGUE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Juliet Sutherland and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+
+<h1><big><span class="smcap">Baseball Joe</span></big><br />
+<small>in the</small><br />
+BIG LEAGUE</h1>
+
+<hr class="hr2" />
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 507px;">
+<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="507" height="602" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 382px;">
+<img src="images/frontis.jpg" width="382" height="602" alt="Frontispiece" title="" />
+<span class="caption">HE BEAT THE BALL BY A NARROW MARGIN, AND WAS DECLARED
+SAFE. <a href="#front">Page 245</a>.</span>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="tp1">
+<div class="tp2">
+<p class="title center">
+Baseball Joe in<br />
+the Big League<br />
+<br />
+OR<br />
+<br />
+A Young Pitcher's Hardest Struggles<br />
+<br />
+<br />
+<em>By</em> LESTER CHADWICK<br />
+<br />
+AUTHOR OF<br />
+"BASEBALL JOE OF THE SILVER STARS," "BASEBALL<br />
+JOE AT YALE," "BASEBALL JOE IN THE CENTRAL<br />
+LEAGUE," "THE RIVAL PITCHERS," "THE<br />
+EIGHT-OARED VICTORS," ETC.<br />
+<br />
+<br />
+<em>ILLUSTRATED</em><br />
+<br />
+<br />
+NEW YORK<br />
+CUPPLES &amp; LEON COMPANY<br />
+</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<h5>Copyright, 1915, by<br />
+<span class="smcap">Cupples &amp; Leon Company</span><br />
+<br />
+<br />
+<big>Baseball Joe in the Big League</big><br />
+<br />
+Printed in U. S. A.<br />
+</h5>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><a name="contents" id="contents"></a>CONTENTS</h2>
+
+<table summary="Contents">
+<tr>
+<th class="tdr">CHAPTER</th>
+<th class="tdr2" colspan="2">PAGE</th>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdr">I</td>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Two Letters</span></td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#I">1</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td class="tdr">II</td>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">To the Rescue</span></td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#II">11</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td class="tdr">III</td>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">An Upset</span></td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#III">19</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td class="tdr">IV</td>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">An Appeal</span></td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#IV">30</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td class="tdr">V</td>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Threat</span></td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#V">38</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td class="tdr">VI</td>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">A Warning</span></td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#VI">46</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td class="tdr">VII</td>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Baseball Talk</span></td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#VII">54</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td class="tdr">VIII</td>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Quarrel</span></td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#VIII">61</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td class="tdr">IX</td>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Joe Is Drafted</span></td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#IX">70</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td class="tdr">X</td>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Off to St. Louis</span></td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#X">77</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td class="tdr">XI</td>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Going Down South</span></td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XI">87</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td class="tdr">XII</td>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Quarreling Man</span></td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XII">97</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td class="tdr">XIII</td>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Under Sunny Skies</span></td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XIII">103</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td class="tdr">XIV</td>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Hard Work</span></td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XIV">112</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td class="tdr">XV</td>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Another Threat</span></td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XV">122</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td class="tdr">XVI</td>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Joe's Triumph</span></td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XVI">129</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td class="tdr">XVII</td>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">"Play Ball!"</span></td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XVII">140</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td class="tdr">XVIII</td>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Hot Words</span></td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XVIII">148</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td class="tdr">XIX</td>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Joe Goes In</span></td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XIX">153</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td class="tdr">XX</td>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Stage Fright</span></td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XX">162</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td class="tdr">XXI</td>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">A Queer Message</span></td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XXI">175</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td class="tdr">XXII</td>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">In Danger</span></td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XXII">182</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td class="tdr">XXIII</td>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">A Lame Arm</span></td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XXIII"> 191</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td class="tdr">XXIV</td>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">A Tight Game</span></td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XXIV">201</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td class="tdr">XXV</td>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">In New York</span></td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XXV">208</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td class="tdr">XXVI</td>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Adrift</span></td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XXVI">217</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td class="tdr">XXVII</td>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Rescue</span></td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XXVII">223</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td class="tdr">XXVIII</td>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Moving Pictures</span></td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XXVIII">229</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td class="tdr">XXIX</td>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Shalleg's Downfall</span></td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XXIX">234</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td class="tdr">XXX</td>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Hardest Battle</span></td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XXX">240</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+</table>
+
+<hr />
+<h2>BASEBALL JOE IN THE BIG LEAGUE</h2>
+
+<hr class="hr3" />
+
+<h2><a name="I" id="I"></a>CHAPTER I<br />
+<br />
+<small>TWO LETTERS</small></h2>
+
+
+<p>"<span class="smcap">Whew</span>!" whistled Joe Matson, the astonishment on his bronzed face being
+indicated by his surprised exclamation of:</p>
+
+<p>"Well, what do you know about that, Sis?"</p>
+
+<p>"What is it, Joe?" asked his sister Clara, as she looked up from a
+letter she was reading to see her brother staring at a sheet of paper he
+had just withdrawn from an envelope, for the morning mail had been
+delivered a few minutes before. "What is it?" the girl went on, laying
+aside her own correspondence. "Is it anything serious&mdash;anything about
+father's business? Don't tell me there is more trouble, Joe!"</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not going to, Clara. It isn't trouble, but, if what he says is
+true, it's going to make a big difference to me," and Joe looked out of
+the window, across a snowy expanse of yard, and gazed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[2]</a></span> at, without
+consciously seeing, a myriad of white flakes swirling down through the
+wintry air.</p>
+
+<p>"No, it isn't exactly trouble," went on Joe, "and I suppose I ought to
+be corkingly glad of it; but I hadn't counted on leaving the Central
+Baseball League quite so soon."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Joe! Have you lost your place?" exclaimed Clara. "And just after
+you have done so well, too; and helped them win the pennant! I call that
+a shame! I thought baseball men were better 'sports' than that."</p>
+
+<p>"Listen to her&mdash;my little sister using slang!" laughed Joe.</p>
+
+<p>"'Sports' isn't slang," defended Clara. "I've heard lots of girls use
+it. I mean it in the right sense. But have you really lost your place on
+the team, Joe?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, not exactly, Sis, but I'm about to, I'm afraid. However, I guess
+I may as well make the best of it, and be glad. I sure can use the extra
+money!"</p>
+
+<p>"I certainly don't know what you're talking about," went on Clara, with
+a helpless look at her big, handsome brother, "and I suppose you'll take
+your own time in telling me. But I <em>would</em> like to know what it all
+means, Joe. And about extra money. Who's going to give it to you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Nobody. I'll have to earn it with this pitching arm of mine," and the
+young baseball player<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span> swung it around, as though "winding-up" for a
+swift delivery.</p>
+
+<p>"Look out, Joe!" cried Clara, but she gave the warning too late.</p>
+
+<p>At that moment Mrs. Matson entered the room with a jug of water, which
+she intended pouring on a window-box of flowers. Joe's arm struck the
+jug a glancing blow, and sent it flying, the water spraying over the
+floor, and the jug itself falling, and cracking into many pieces.</p>
+
+<p>For a moment there was a momentous silence, after two startled
+screams&mdash;one each from Mrs. Matson and Clara. Then Joe cried gaily:</p>
+
+<p>"Out at first! Say, Momsey, I hope I didn't hit you!"</p>
+
+<p>"No, you didn't," and she laughed now. "But what does it all mean? Are
+you practicing so early in the season? Oh, my carpet! It will be
+ruined!" she went on, as she saw the water. "But I'm glad I didn't bring
+in a good jug. Did you hurt your hand?"</p>
+
+<p>"Nary a hurt," said Joe, with a smile. "Ha! I'll save <em>you</em> from a
+wetting!" he exclaimed, as he stooped quickly and picked up an unopened
+letter, the address of which was in a girlish hand.</p>
+
+<p>"Get the mop, while you're at it," advised Clara. A little later Joe had
+sopped up the water, and quiet was restored.</p>
+
+<p>"And now suppose you tell us all about it,"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span> suggested Mrs. Mason. "Why
+were you practicing gymnastics, Joe?" and she smiled at her athletic
+son.</p>
+
+<p>"I was just telling Clara that my pitching arm was likely to bring me in
+more money this year, Momsey, and I was giving it a twirl, when you
+happened to get in my way. Now I'll tell you all about it. It's this
+letter," and Joe held out the one he had been reading.</p>
+
+<p>"Are you sure it isn't the <em>other</em>?" asked Clara, with a sly look at her
+brother, for she had glanced at the writing on the unopened envelope Joe
+had picked up from the floor. "Let me read that other letter, Joe," she
+teased.</p>
+
+<p>"A little later&mdash;maybe!" he parried. "But this one," and he fluttered
+the open sheet in his hand, "this one is from Mr. Gregory, manager of
+the Pittston team, with whom I have the honor to be associated," and Joe
+bowed low to his mother and sister. "Mr. Gregory gives me a bit of news.
+It is nothing less than that the manager of the St. Louis Nationals is
+negotiating for the services of yours truly&mdash;your humble servant, Joseph
+Matson," and again the young ball player bowed, and laughed.</p>
+
+<p>"Joe, you don't mean it!" cried his sister. "You're going to belong to a
+major league team!" for Clara was almost as ardent a baseball "fan" as
+was her brother.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span>"Well, it looks like it, Sis," replied Joe, slowly, as he glanced at the
+letter again. "Of course it isn't settled, but Mr. Gregory says I'm
+pretty sure to be drafted to St. Louis."</p>
+
+<p>"Drafted!" exclaimed his mother. "That sounds like war times, when they
+used to draft men to go to the front. Do you mean you haven't any choice
+in the matter, Joe?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, that's about it, Momsey," the young man explained. "You see,
+baseball is pretty well organized. It has to be, to make it the success
+it is," he added frankly, "though lots of people are opposed to the
+system. But I haven't been in it long enough to find fault, even if I
+wanted to&mdash;which I don't."</p>
+
+<p>"But it seems queer that you can't stay with the Pittston team if you
+want to," said Mrs. Matson.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know as I want to," spoke Joe, slowly, "especially when I'll
+surely get more money with St. Louis, besides having the honor of
+pitching for a major league team, even if it isn't one of the
+top-notchers, and a pennant winner. So if they want to draft me, let
+them do their worst!" and he laughed, showing his even, white teeth.</p>
+
+<p>"You see," he resumed, "when I signed a contract with the Pittstons, of
+the Central League, I gave them the right to control my services as long
+as I played baseball. I had to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span> agree not to go to any other team
+without permission, and, in fact, no other organized team would take me
+unless the Pittston management released me. I went into it with my eyes
+open.</p>
+
+<p>"And, you see, the Pittston team, being one of the small ones, has to
+give way to a major league team. That is, any major league team, like
+the St. Louis Nationals, can call for, or draft, any player in a smaller
+team. So if they call me I'll have to go. And I'll be glad to. I'll get
+more money and fame.</p>
+
+<p>"That is, I hope I will," and Joe spoke more soberly. "I know I'm not
+going to have any snap of it. It's going to be hard work from the word
+go, for there will be other pitchers on the St. Louis team, and I'll
+have to do my best to make a showing against them.</p>
+
+<p>"And I will, too!" cried Joe, resolutely. "I'll make good, Momsey!"</p>
+
+<p>"I hope so, my son," she responded, quietly. "You know I was not much in
+favor of your taking up baseball for a living, but I must say you have
+done well at it, and after all, if one does one's best at anything, that
+is what counts. So I hope you make good with the St. Louis team&mdash;I
+suppose 'make good' is the proper expression," she added, with a smile.</p>
+
+<p>"It'll do first-rate, Momsey," laughed Joe. "Now let's see what else
+Gregory says."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span>He glanced over the letter again, and remarked:</p>
+
+<p>"Well, there's nothing definite. The managers are laying their plans for
+the Spring work, and he says I'm being considered. He adds he will be
+sorry to lose me."</p>
+
+<p>"I should think he would be!" exclaimed Clara, a flush coming into her
+cheeks. "You were the best pitcher on his team!"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I wouldn't go as far as to say that!" cried Joe, "though I
+appreciate your feeling, Sis. I had a good bit of luck, winning some of
+the games the way I did. Well, I guess I'll go look up some St. Louis
+records, and see what I'm expected to do in the batting average line
+compared with them," the player went on. "The St. Louis team isn't a
+wonder, but it's done pretty fair at times, I believe, and it's a step
+up for me. I'll be more in line for a place on the New York Giants, or
+the Philadelphia Athletics if I make a good showing in Missouri,"
+finished Joe.</p>
+
+<p>He started from the room, carrying the two letters, one of which he had
+not yet opened.</p>
+
+<p>"Who's it from?" asked Clara, with a smile, as she pointed to the heavy,
+square envelope in his hand.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, one of my many admirers," teased Joe. "I can't tell just which one
+until I open it. And, just to satisfy your curiosity, I'll do so now,"
+and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span> he proceeded to slit the envelope with his pocket-knife.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, it's from Mabel Varley!" he exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p>"Just as if you didn't know all the while!" scoffed Clara. "You wouldn't
+forget her handwriting so soon, Joe Matson."</p>
+
+<p>"Um!" he murmured, non-committally. "Why, this is news!" he cried,
+suddenly. "Mabel and her brother Reggie are coming here!"</p>
+
+<p>"Here!" exclaimed Clara. "To visit us?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, no, not that exactly," Joe went on. "They're on a trip, it seems,
+and they're going to stop off here for a day or so. Mabel says they'll
+try to see us. I hope they will."</p>
+
+<p>"I've never met them," observed Clara.</p>
+
+<p>"No," spoke Joe, musingly. "Well, you may soon. Why!" he went on,
+"they're coming to-day&mdash;on the afternoon express. I must go down to the
+station to meet them, though the train is likely to be late, if this
+snow keeps up. Whew! see it come down!" and he went over to the window
+and looked out.</p>
+
+<p>"It's like a small blizzard," remarked Clara, "and it seems to be
+growing worse. Doesn't look much like baseball; does it, Joe?"</p>
+
+<p>"I should say not! Say, I believe I'll go down to the station, anyhow,
+and see what the prospects are. Want to come, Sis?"</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span>"No, thank you. Not in this storm. Where are the Varleys going to stop?"</p>
+
+<p>"At the hotel. Reggie has some business in town, Mabel writes. Well, I
+sure will be glad to see him again!"</p>
+
+<p>"<em>Him</em>? <em>Her</em>, you mean!" laughed Clara. "Oh, Joe, you <em>are</em> so simple!"</p>
+
+<p>"Humph!" he exclaimed, as he put the two letters into his pocket&mdash;both
+of great importance to him. "Well, I'll go down to the station."</p>
+
+<p>Joe was soon trudging through the storm on the way to the depot.</p>
+
+<p>"The St. Louis 'Cardinals'!" he mused, as he bent his head to the blast,
+thinking of the letters in his pocket. "I didn't think I'd be in line
+for a major league team so soon. I wonder if I can make good?"</p>
+
+<p>Thinking alternately of the pleasure he would have in seeing Miss Mabel
+Varley, a girl in whom he was more than ordinarily interested, and of
+the new chance that had come to him, Joe soon reached the depot. His
+inquiries about the trains were not, however, very satisfactorily
+answered.</p>
+
+<p>"We can't tell much about them in this storm," the station master said.
+"All our trains are more or less late. Stop in this afternoon, and I may
+have some definite information for you."</p>
+
+<p>And later that day, when it was nearly arrival<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span> time for the train on
+which Mabel and Reggie were to come, Joe received some news that
+startled him.</p>
+
+<p>"There's no use in your waiting, Joe," said the station master, as the
+young ball player approached him again. "Your train won't be in to-day,
+and maybe not for several days."</p>
+
+<p>"Why? What's the matter&mdash;a wreck?" cried Joe, a vision of injured
+friends looming before him.</p>
+
+<p>"Not exactly a wreck, but almost as bad," went on the official. "The
+train is stalled&mdash;snowed in at Deep Rock Cut, five miles above here, and
+there's no chance of getting her out."</p>
+
+<p>"Great Scott!" cried Joe. "The express snowed in! Why, I've got friends
+on that train! I wonder what I can do to help them?"</p>
+
+<p class="con"><a href="#contents">Back to contents</a></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span><a name="II" id="II"></a>CHAPTER II<br />
+<br />
+<small>TO THE RESCUE</small></h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Joe Matson</span> looked so worried at the information imparted by the station
+master that the latter asked him:</p>
+
+<p>"Any particular friends of yours on that train?"</p>
+
+<p>"Very particular," declared the young ball player. "And I hope no harm
+comes to them."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I don't know as any great harm will come," went on the station
+master. "The train's snowed in, and will have to stay there until we can
+get together a gang of men and shovel her out. It won't be easy, for
+it's snowing harder every minute, and Deep Rock Cut is one of the worst
+places on the line for drifts. But no other train can run into the
+stalled one, that's sure. The only thing is the steam may get low, and
+the passengers will be cold, and hungry."</p>
+
+<p>"Isn't there any way to prevent that?" asked Joe, anxiously.</p>
+
+<p>"I s'pose the passengers could get out and try to reach some house or
+hotel," resumed the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span> railroad man, "but Deep Rock Cut is a pretty lonely
+place, and there aren't many houses near it. The only thing I see to do
+would be for someone to go there with a horse and sled, and rescue the
+passengers, and that would be <em>some</em> job, as there's quite a trainload
+of them."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I'm going to try and get <em>my</em> friends that way, anyhow!" cried
+Joe. "I'll go to the rescue," and he set off for home through the storm
+again, intending to hire a rig at a livery stable, and do what he could
+to take Mabel and her brother from the train.</p>
+
+<p>And, while Joe is thus making his preparations, I will tell my new
+readers something about the previous books of this series, in which Joe
+Matson, or "Baseball Joe," as he is called, has a prominent part.</p>
+
+<p>The initial volume was called "Baseball Joe of the Silver Stars; Or, The
+Rivals of Riverside," and began with my hero's career in the town of
+Riverside. Joe joined the ball team there, and, after some hard work,
+became one of the best amateur pitchers in that section of the country.
+He did not have it all easy, though, and the fight was an uphill one.
+But Joe made good, and his team came out ahead.</p>
+
+<p>"Baseball Joe on the School Nine; Or, Pitching for the Blue Banner," the
+second book in the series, saw our hero as the pitcher on a better<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span>
+organized team than were the Silver Stars. Joe had taken a step forward.
+He did not make the school nine without a struggle, for he had rivals,
+and a strong effort was made to keep him out of the game.</p>
+
+<p>But Joe proved his worth, and when a critical time came he pitched to
+victory, thus defeating the plans of his enemies.</p>
+
+<p>It was quite a step forward for Joe to go to Yale from Excelsior Hall,
+where he had gotten his early education.</p>
+
+<p>Naturally Joe wanted to play on the Yale team, but he had to wait some
+time before his ambition was gratified. In "Baseball Joe at Yale; Or,
+Pitching for the College Championship," I related how, after playing
+during his freshman year on the class team, Joe was picked as one of the
+pitchers for the varsity.</p>
+
+<p>Then, indeed, he was proud and happy, but he knew it would not be as
+easy as it had been at Excelsior Hall. Every step upward meant harder
+work, but Joe welcomed the chance.</p>
+
+<p>And when finally the deciding game came&mdash;the one with Princeton at the
+Polo Grounds, New York&mdash;Joe had the proud distinction of pitching for
+Yale&mdash;and he pitched to victory.</p>
+
+<p>Joe's ambition, ever since he had taken an interest in baseball, had
+been to become a professional player. His mother had hoped that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span> he
+would become a minister, or enter one of the more learned professions,
+but, though Joe disappointed her hopes, there was some compensation.</p>
+
+<p>"Better let the boy have his own way," Mr. Matson had said. "I would
+rather see him a good ball player than a half-rate lawyer, or doctor;
+and, after all, there is good money to be made on the diamond."</p>
+
+<p>So, when Joe received an offer from the manager of one of the minor
+league professional teams, he took it. In "Baseball Joe in the Central
+League; Or, Making Good as a Professional Pitcher," the fourth volume of
+the series, I related Joe's experiences when he got his start in
+organized baseball. How he was instrumental in bringing back on the
+right path a player who had gone wrong, and how he fought to the last,
+until his team won the pennant&mdash;all that you will find set down in the
+book.</p>
+
+<p>I might add that Joe lived with his father, mother, and sister in the
+town of Riverside, where Mr. Matson was employed in the Royal Harvester
+Works, being an able inventor.</p>
+
+<p>Joe had many friends in town, one in particular being Tom Davis, who had
+gone to Excelsior Hall with him. Of late, however, Joe had not seen so
+much of Tom, their occupations pursuing divergent paths.</p>
+
+<p>It was while Joe was on his way to join the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span> Pittston team, of the
+Central League, that he made the acquaintance of Reggie Varley, a rich,
+and somewhat dudish, young man; and the acquaintance was made in an odd
+manner. For Reggie practically accused Joe of knowing something of some
+jewelry that was missing from a valise.</p>
+
+<p>Of course Joe did not take it, but for some time the theft remained
+quite a mystery, until Joe solved the secret. From then on he and Reggie
+were good friends, and Reggie's sister Mabel and Joe were&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>Oh, well, what's the use of telling on a fellow? You wouldn't like it
+yourself; would you?</p>
+
+<p>The baseball season came to an end, and the Pittston team covered itself
+with glory, partly due to Joe's good pitching. Cold weather set in, and
+the players took themselves to their various Winter occupations, or
+pleasures. Joe went home, to wait until the training season should open,
+in preparation for league games on the velvety, green diamonds.</p>
+
+<p>Several weeks of inaction had passed, the holidays were over, Winter had
+set in with all earnestness, and now we find Joe hurrying along, intent
+on the rescue of Reggie and his sister from the snow-stalled train.</p>
+
+<p>"I hope they will not freeze before I get to them," thought Joe, as he
+staggered through the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span> blinding snow. "They can't, though, for there'll
+be sure to be steam for some hours yet. I guess I'll stop home, and get
+something to eat for them, and a bottle of coffee. I'll put it in one of
+those vacuum flasks, and it will keep hot."</p>
+
+<p>So intent was Joe on his rescue that, for the time, he gave no more
+thought to the matter of joining the St. Louis nine, important as that
+matter was to him.</p>
+
+<p>"I'd better get a team of horses, and a light sled," he mused, as he
+turned in the direction of the livery stable. "There will be some heavy
+going between here and Deep Rock Cut, and I'll need a good team to pull
+through."</p>
+
+<p>A little later he was leaving his order with the proprietor.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll fix you up, Joe," said the stable boss, who was a baseball "fan,"
+and a great admirer of our hero. "I'll give you the best team in the
+place, and they'll get you through, if any horses can. I expect I'll
+have other calls, if, as you say, the train is stalled, for there'll
+likely be other folks in town who have friends aboard her. But you've
+got the first call, and I'm glad of it."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll be back in a little while," called Joe, as he hurried off. "I'm
+going around to my house to put up some lunch and coffee."</p>
+
+<p>"Good idea! I'll have everything ready for you when you come back."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span>On Joe hurried once more, through the swirl of white flakes that cut
+into his face, blown on the wings of a bitter wind. He bent his head to
+the blast, and buttoned his overcoat more closely about him, as he
+fought his way through the drifts.</p>
+
+<p>It had been snowing since early morning, and there were no signs to
+indicate that the storm was going to stop. It was growing colder, too,
+and the wind seemed to increase in violence each hour. Though it was
+only a little after one o'clock in the afternoon, it was unusually dark,
+and Joe realized that night would soon be at hand, hastened by the
+clouds overhead.</p>
+
+<p>"But the snow will make it light enough to see, I guess," reasoned Joe.
+"I hope I can keep to the road. It wouldn't be much of a joke to get
+Reggie and Mabel out of the train, into the comfortable sled, and then
+lose them on the way home."</p>
+
+<p>Quickly explaining to his mother and sister his plan of going for the
+two friends in the stalled train, Joe hastily put up some sandwiches,
+while Clara made coffee and poured it into the vacuum bottle.</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps you'd better bring them here, Joe, instead of taking them to
+the hotel," suggested his mother. "Mabel will be wet and cold, perhaps,
+and I could make her more comfortable<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span> here than she would be at the
+hotel. We have room enough."</p>
+
+<p>"She can share my room," proposed Clara.</p>
+
+<p>"That's good of you," and Joe flashed a grateful look at his sister. "I
+hope you will like Mabel," he added, softly.</p>
+
+<p>"I guess I will; if you do," laughed Clara.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I sure do," and Joe smiled.</p>
+
+<p>Then, with a big scarf to wrap about his neck, and carrying the basket
+of food and coffee, Joe set out for the livery stable, to start to the
+rescue.</p>
+
+<p class="con"><a href="#contents">Back to contents</a></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span><a name="III" id="III"></a>CHAPTER III<br />
+<br />
+<small>AN UPSET</small></h2>
+
+
+<p>"<span class="smcap">Here</span> you are, Joe. Best team in the stable. I could have hired 'em out
+twice over since you went; but I wouldn't do it. Other folks have got
+the scare, too, about friends on the stalled train," and the livery boss
+handed Joe the reins of a pair of prancing horses, hitched to a light,
+but strong cutter.</p>
+
+<p>"Thanks, Mr. Blasser," said Joe. "I'll take good care of 'em."</p>
+
+<p>"And hold 'em in a bit at the start," advised the man. "They haven't
+been out for a couple of days, and they're a bit frisky. But they'll
+calm down after a while."</p>
+
+<p>With a jingle of bells, and a scattering of the snow from their hoofs,
+the horses leaped forward when Joe gave them their heads, and down the
+whitened street they trotted, on the way to Deep Rock Cut.</p>
+
+<p>This was a place where the railroad went through a rocky defile, about a
+mile long. It had been the scene of more than one wreck, for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span> there was
+a dangerous curve in it, and in the Winter it was a source of worry to
+the railroad men, for the snow piled high in it when there was a storm
+of more than usual severity. In the Summer a nearby river sometimes rose
+above its banks, and filled the cut with water, washing out the track.</p>
+
+<p>Altogether Deep Rock Cut was a cause of much anxiety to the railroad
+management, but it was not practical to run the line on either side of
+it, so its use had been continued.</p>
+
+<p>"And very likely it's living up to its reputation right now," mused Joe,
+as he drove down the main street, and then turned to another that would
+take him out of the town, and to a highway that led near Deep Rock Cut.
+"It sure must be living up to its reputation right now, though, of
+course, the storm is to blame.</p>
+
+<p>"Whew! It certainly does blow!" he commented, as he held the reins in
+one hand, and drew more closely about his throat the muffler he had
+brought with him. "Stand to it, ponies!" Joe called to the sturdy
+steeds. They had started off at a lively pace, but the snow soon slowed
+them down. They started up again, however, at the sound of Joe's voice,
+and settled down into a steady pull that took them over the ground at a
+good pace.</p>
+
+<p>Now that he was actually on the way to the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span> rescue Joe allowed his
+thoughts to go back to the baseball letter that was in his pocket, next
+to the one from Mabel.</p>
+
+<p>"I wonder how they came to pick me out?" he mused, as he recalled the
+possibility that he would go to St. Louis. "They must have had a scout
+at some of the Central League games, though generally the news of that
+is tipped off beforehand.</p>
+
+<p>"That must have been the way of it, though," he went on, still communing
+with himself. "I don't know that I played so extra well, except maybe at
+the last, and then&mdash;then I just <em>had</em> to&mdash;to make good. Well, I'm glad
+they picked me out. Wonder if any other members of the Pittston team are
+slated to go? Can't be, though, or Gregory would have told me of it.</p>
+
+<p>"And I wonder how much more salary I'll get? Of course I oughtn't to
+think too much about money, for, after all, it's the game I like. But,
+then, I have to live, and, since I'm in organized baseball, I want to be
+at the top of the heap, the same as I would if I were a lawyer, or a
+doctor. That's it&mdash;the top of the heap&mdash;the New York Giants for mine&mdash;if
+I can reach 'em," and he smiled quizzically.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I guess lots of the fellows would give their eye teeth to have my
+chance. Of course, it isn't settled yet," Joe told himself, "but there<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span>
+must have been a good foundation for it, or Gregory wouldn't have taken
+the trouble to write to me about it."</p>
+
+<p>Joe found the road to Deep Rock Cut fully as bad, in the matter of
+snowdrifts, as he had expected. It was rather slow going when he got to
+the open country, where the wind had full sweep, and progress, even on
+the part of the willing horses, was slower.</p>
+
+<p>Joe picked out the best, and easiest, route possible, but that was not
+saying much, and it was not until nearly three o'clock, and growing
+quite dark, that he came within sight of the cut. Then the storm was so
+thick that he could not see the stalled train.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll have to leave the team as near to it as I can get, and walk in to
+tell Reggie and Mabel that I've come for them," Joe decided.</p>
+
+<p>The highway crossed the railroad track a short distance from the end of
+the cut nearest Riverside, and Joe, halting a moment to listen, and to
+make sure no trains were approaching, drove over the rails.</p>
+
+<p>"Though there isn't much danger, now, of a train getting through that,"
+he said to himself, as he saw the big drift of snow that blocked the
+cut. Behind that drift was the stalled train, he reflected, and then, as
+he looked at the white mound, he realized that he had made a mistake.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span>"I can never get through that drift myself," he said. "I'll have to
+drive up to the other end of the cut, by which the engine and cars
+entered. Stupid of me not to have thought of that at first."</p>
+
+<p>He turned his horses, and again sought the highway that led along the
+cut, parallel to it, and about a quarter of a mile distant. Joe
+listened, again hoping he could hear the whistle of the approaching
+rescue-train, for at the station he had been told one was being fitted
+out, and would carry a gang of snow shovelers. But the howl of the wind
+was all that came to his ears.</p>
+
+<p>"This means another mile of travel," Joe thought, as he urged on the
+horses. "It will be pitch dark by the time I get back to town with them.
+I hope Mabel doesn't take cold. It sure is bitter."</p>
+
+<p>Joe found the going even harder as he kept on, but he would not give up
+now.</p>
+
+<p>"There's one consolation," he reasoned, "the wind will be at our backs
+going home. That will make it easier."</p>
+
+<p>The road that crossed the track at the other end of Deep Rock Cut was
+farther from the beginning of the defile, and Joe, leaving the horses in
+a sheltering clump of trees, struggled down the track, the rails of
+which were out of sight under the snow.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span>"I wonder if Mabel can walk back?" he said aloud. "If not I guess Reggie
+and I can carry her. It's pretty deep. I didn't get here any too soon."</p>
+
+<p>Something dark loomed up before him, amid the wall of white, swirling
+flakes.</p>
+
+<p>"There's the train!" exclaimed Joe, in relief.</p>
+
+<p>It was indeed the rear coach of the stalled passenger train, and, a
+moment later, Joe was climbing the snow-encumbered steps. It proved to
+be the baggage car, and, as Joe entered, he surprised a number of men
+who were smoking, and playing cards on an upturned trunk.</p>
+
+<p>"Hello!" exclaimed one of them, in surprise at the sight of the ball
+player. "Where'd you come from? Is the rescue-train here?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not yet," Joe answered. "I came to take a couple of friends into town."</p>
+
+<p>"Say, I wish I had a friend like you!" cried the man, with a laugh. "I
+sure would like to get into town; but I don't dare start out and tramp
+it&mdash;not with my rheumatism. How much room have you got in your airship?"</p>
+
+<p>"I came in a cutter," responded Joe, with a smile.</p>
+
+<p>"Say, you got some grit!" declared the man. "I like your nerve!"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Joe's got plenty of nerve&mdash;of the right sort!" called a brakeman,
+and Joe, nodding at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span> him, recognized a railroad acquaintance who had
+been present at some of the town ball games.</p>
+
+<p>"A couple of my friends are in one of the coaches, Mr. Wheatson,"
+explained Joe. "I'm going to drive back with them."</p>
+
+<p>"Go ahead and look for 'em," invited the brakeman. "The train is yours,
+as far as I'm concerned. I guess we're tied up here all night."</p>
+
+<p>"They're going to start out a rescue-train," Joe informed the men in the
+baggage car, for the telegraph wires had gone down after the first
+message, telling of the stalled train, had been sent.</p>
+
+<p>"That's good news," replied one of the men. "Well, all we can do is to
+stay here, and play cards. It's nice and warm in here, anyhow."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, it will be until the coal for the engine gives out," spoke a
+player, who seemed to take a rather gloomy view of matters. "And what
+are we going to do about supper? I'd like to know that!"</p>
+
+<p>Joe wished he could have brought along enough food for all the stranded
+passengers, but this was impossible. He went on through the train, and
+presently came to where Mabel and her brother were seated in the parlor
+car, looking gloomily out at the storm.</p>
+
+<p>"Well!" exclaimed Joe, with a smile, as he stood just back of them. They
+both turned with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span> a flash, and a look of pleased surprise came over the
+faces of Reggie and his sister as they saw him.</p>
+
+<p>"Joe Matson!" cried Reggie, jumping up, and holding out his hand. "Where
+in the world did you come from? I didn't know you were on this train."</p>
+
+<p>"I wasn't," laughed Joe. "I just boarded it, and I've come for you," he
+added, as he gave Mabel his hand.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, but I'm glad to see you!" she exclaimed. "Isn't this just perfectly
+awful, to be snowed in like this! And they tell us there's no chance of
+getting out to-night."</p>
+
+<p>"There is for you," remarked Joe, quietly.</p>
+
+<p>"How?" asked Reggie, quickly. "Did they push the relief-train through?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'm all the relief-train there is," announced Joe, and he told about
+having the cutter in readiness.</p>
+
+<p>"Say, that's fine of you!" cried Reggie. "Shall we go with him, Mabel?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I rather guess so," she answered. "I couldn't stay here another
+hour."</p>
+
+<p>"It won't be much fun traveling through the storm," Joe warned his
+friends. At this Reggie looked a bit doubtful, but his sister exclaimed:</p>
+
+<p>"I don't mind it! I love a storm, anyhow, and I just can't bear sitting
+still, and doing nothing.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span> Besides, there isn't a thing to eat aboard
+this train, for they took off the dining car right after lunch."</p>
+
+<p>"I brought along a little something. It's in the cutter," Joe said. "I
+didn't bring it in here for fear the famished passengers would mob me
+for it," he added, with a smile. "Well, if you're willing to trust
+yourself with me, perhaps we'd better start," he went on. "It is getting
+darker all the while, and the snow is still falling."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll be ready at once!" cried Mabel. "Reggie, get down the valises;
+will you, please? Can you take them?" she asked of Joe.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes&mdash;room for them in the cutter," he assured her.</p>
+
+<p>The other passengers looked on curiously, and enviously, when they heard
+where Reggie and his sister were going. But, much as Joe would have
+liked to take them all to a place of comfort, he could not. The three
+went back to the baggage car, and, saying good-bye to the card-players,
+stepped out into the storm.</p>
+
+<p>"I guess your brother and I had better carry you, Mabel," suggested Joe,
+as he saw the deep snow that led along the track to where he had left
+the cutter.</p>
+
+<p>"Indeed you'll not&mdash;thank you!" she flashed back at him. "I have on
+stout shoes, and I don't mind the drifts." She proved it by striding
+sturdily<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span> through them, and soon the three were at the cutter, the
+horses whinnying impatiently to be gone.</p>
+
+<p>"Have some hot coffee and a sandwich," invited Joe, as he got out the
+basket, and served his guests.</p>
+
+<p>"Say, you're all right!" cried Reggie. Mabel said nothing, but the look
+she gave Joe was reward enough.</p>
+
+<p>The coffee in the vacuum bottle was warm and cheering, and soon, much
+refreshed from the little lunch, and bundled up well in the robes Joe
+had brought, Reggie and his sister were ready for the trip to town.</p>
+
+<p>"Step along!" cried the young baseball player to the horses, and glad
+enough they were to do so. Out to the highway they went, and it was not
+until they were some distance away from the cut that Joe noticed how
+much worse the going was. The snow was considerably deeper, and had
+drifted high in many more places.</p>
+
+<p>"Think you can make it?" asked Reggie, anxiously.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I'm going to make a big try!" responded Joe. "I've got a good
+team here."</p>
+
+<p>Half an hour later it was quite dark, but the white covering on the
+ground showed where the road was faintly outlined. Joe let the horses
+have their heads, and they seemed to know they<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span> were going toward their
+stable, for they went along at a good pace.</p>
+
+<p>"There's a bad drift!" exclaimed Joe as, ahead of him, he saw a big
+mound of snow. He tried to guide the horses to one side, and must have
+given a stronger pull on the reins than he realized. For the steeds
+turned sharply, and, the next moment, the cutter suddenly turned over on
+its side, spilling into the snow the three occupants.</p>
+
+<p class="con"><a href="#contents">Back to contents</a></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span><a name="IV" id="IV"></a>CHAPTER IV<br />
+<br />
+<small>AN APPEAL</small></h2>
+
+
+<p>"<span class="smcap">Look</span> out there!"</p>
+
+<p>"See if you can grab the horses, Reggie!"</p>
+
+<p>"Mabel, are you hurt?"</p>
+
+<p>Fast and excitedly came the exclamations, as Joe managed to free himself
+from the entanglement of robes and lines. Then he stood up, and, giving
+a hasty glance to see that Mabel and her brother were extricating
+themselves (apparently little if any hurt), the young pitcher sprang for
+the heads of the horses, fearing they might bolt.</p>
+
+<p>But, as if the steeds had done mischief enough; or, possibly because
+they were well trained, and had lost most of their skittishness in the
+cold, they stood still.</p>
+
+<p>"For which I'm mighty glad!" quoth Joe, as he looked to see that no part
+of the harness was broken, a fact of which he could not be quite sure in
+the darkness.</p>
+
+<p>"Are you all right, Mabel?" called Joe, as he stood at the heads of the
+animals.</p>
+
+<p>"All right, Joe, yes, thank you. How about yourself?"</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span>"Oh, I haven't a scratch. The snow is soft. How about you, Reggie?"</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing worse than about a peck of snow down my neck. What happened,
+anyhow?"</p>
+
+<p>"Hit a drift and turned too suddenly. I guess you'll wish I had left you
+in the train; won't you?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, indeed!" laughed Mabel. "This isn't anything, nor the first upset
+I've been in&mdash;Reggie tipped us over once."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, that was when I was first learning how to drive," put in the other
+youth, quickly. "But can we go on, Joe?"</p>
+
+<p>"I think so. Nothing seems to be broken. We'll have to right the sled,
+though. I wonder if the horses will stand while we do it? I wouldn't
+like them to start up, but&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Let me hold them!" begged Mabel. "I'm not afraid, and with me at their
+heads you boys can turn the sled right side up. It isn't tipped all the
+way over, anyhow."</p>
+
+<p>She shook the snow from her garments, and made her way to where Joe
+stood, holding the reins close to the heads of the horses. It was still
+snowing hard, and with the cold wind driving the flakes into swirls and
+drifts, it was anything but pleasant. Had they been left behind by the
+horses running away, their plight would have been dangerous enough.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span>"Perhaps I can help you," suddenly called a voice out of the storm, and
+Joe and the others turned quickly, to see whence it had come.</p>
+
+<p>The snow-encrusted figure of a man made its way over the piles of snow,
+and stood beside Joe.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll hold the horses for you," the stranger went on. "You seem to have
+had an accident. I know something about horses. I'll hold them while you
+right the sled."</p>
+
+<p>"Thanks," said Joe, and, as he spoke, he wondered where he had heard
+that voice before. He knew he had heard it, for there was a familiar
+ring to it. But it was not light enough to make out the features of the
+man. Besides, he was so wrapped up, with a slouch hat drawn low over his
+face, and a scarf pulled up well around his neck, that, even in
+daylight, his features would have been effectually concealed.</p>
+
+<p>"I guess they won't need much holding," Joe went on, all the while
+racking his brain to recall the voice. He wanted to have the man speak
+again, that he might listen once more.</p>
+
+<p>And the unknown, who had appeared so suddenly out of the storm, did not
+seem to have anything to conceal. He spoke freely.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't worry about the horses," he remarked. "I can manage them."</p>
+
+<p>"They won't need a lot of managing," responded Joe. "I guess they've had
+pretty nearly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span> all the tucker taken out of them in the storm. It was
+pretty hard coming from Riverside."</p>
+
+<p>"Are you from there?" the man asked rather quickly.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," answered Joe, "and we're going back."</p>
+
+<p>"Then I'm glad I met you!" the man exclaimed, and Joe, who had half
+formed an opinion as to his identity, changed his mind, for the voice
+sounded different now. "Yes, I'm glad I met you," the stranger went on.
+"I was looking for someone to ask the road to Riverside, and you can
+tell me. I guess I lost my way in the storm. I heard your sleigh-bells,
+and I was heading for them when I heard you upset. You can show me the
+shortest road to Riverside; can't you?"</p>
+
+<p>"We can do better than that," spoke Joe, trying, but still
+unsuccessfully, to get a look at the man's face. "We've got plenty of
+room in the sled, and you can ride back with us, once we get it on the
+runners again. Come on, Reggie, give me a hand, if you will, and we'll
+get this cutter right side up with care."</p>
+
+<p>"If it needs three of you, I can take my place at the horses," suggested
+Mabel, who was standing beside Joe, idly looking through the
+fast-gathering darkness at the stranger.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, the two of us can easily do it," said the young ball player. "It
+isn't heavy. Come on,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span> Reggie. Better stand a bit back, Mabel. It might
+slip," he advised.</p>
+
+<p>Joe and his friend easily righted the sleigh, while the stranger stood
+at the heads of the horses, who were now quiet enough. Then, the
+scattered robes having been collected, and the baggage picked up, all
+was in readiness for a new start.</p>
+
+<p>Joe tucked the warm blanket well around Mabel, and then called to the
+stranger:</p>
+
+<p>"Get up on the front seat, and I'll soon have you in Riverside. It isn't
+very far now."</p>
+
+<p>"Thanks," said the man, briefly. "This is better luck than I've had in
+some time."</p>
+
+<p>For a while, after the mishap, none of the occupants of the cutter
+spoke, as the willing horses pulled it through the big drifts of snow.
+Joe drove more carefully, taking care not to turn too suddenly, and he
+avoided, as well as he could, the huge heaps of white crystals that,
+every moment, were piling higher.</p>
+
+<p>Reggie was snuggling down in the robes, and Mabel, too, rather worn out
+by the events of the day, and the worry of being snowed in, maintained
+silence.</p>
+
+<p>As for Joe, he had all he could do to manage the horses in the storm,
+though the beasts did not seem inclined to make any more trouble. The
+man on the seat beside him appeared wrapped, not only in his heavy
+garments, but in a sort of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span> gloomy silence, as well. He did not speak
+again, and Joe was still puzzling over his identity.</p>
+
+<p>"For I'm sure I've met him before, and more than once," reasoned Joe.
+"But then I've met so many fellows, playing ball all around the country,
+that it's no wonder I can't recall a certain voice. Maybe I'll get a
+chance to have a good look at him later."</p>
+
+<p>"You'll come right to our house," said Joe, turning to speak to Mabel
+and Reggie. "Mother said so."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, but we have our rooms engaged at the hotel," objected the other
+youth.</p>
+
+<p>"That doesn't matter. You can go there later, if you like. But mother
+insisted that I bring you home," Joe went on. "You can be more
+comfortable there&mdash;at least, until you get over this cold trip."</p>
+
+<p>"It's perfectly lovely of your mother," declared Mabel. "But I don't
+want to put her to so much inconvenience."</p>
+
+<p>"It isn't any inconvenience at all," laughed Joe. "She wants to meet
+you, and so does my sister Clara."</p>
+
+<p>"And I want to meet them," responded Mabel, with a blush that was unseen
+in the darkness.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, have it your own way," said Reggie, who was, perhaps, rather too
+much inclined to give in easily. Life came very easy to him, anyhow.
+"It's very nice of you to put us up, Joe.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span> By the way, how is your
+father since the operation?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, he has almost entirely recovered. His eyesight is better than ever,
+he says."</p>
+
+<p>"How lovely!" cried Mabel. "And how lucky it was, Joe, that your share
+of the money your team got for winning the pennant helped to make the
+operation possible."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I sure do owe a debt of gratitude to baseball," admitted the young
+pitcher.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you play ball?" suddenly asked the man on the seat beside Joe.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I play at it," was the modest answer.</p>
+
+<p>"Amateur or professional?"</p>
+
+<p>"Professional. I am with the Central League."</p>
+
+<p>Was it fancy, or did the man give a sudden start, that might indicate
+surprise? Joe could not be sure.</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose you'll be at it again this year, Joe," put in Reggie.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes. But I may change my club. I'll tell you about it later. We'll
+soon be at the house. Is there any special place I can take you to, in
+Riverside?" asked Joe of the stranger.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I'm looking for a young fellow named Matson," was the unexpected
+answer.</p>
+
+<p>"Matson?" cried Joe. "Why, that's my name!"</p>
+
+<p>"Joe Matson?" the man exclaimed, drawing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span> slightly away in order,
+possibly, to get a better look at the young player.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm Joe Matson&mdash;yes. Are you looking for me?"</p>
+
+<p>"I was, and I'm glad I found you!" the man exclaimed. "I've got a very
+special request to make of you. Is there some hotel, or boarding house,
+where I could put up, and where I could see you&mdash;later?" he asked,
+eagerly.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, yes, there are several such places in town," said Joe, slowly,
+trying, harder than ever, to place the man who had so unexpectedly
+appeared.</p>
+
+<p>"Take me to a quiet one&mdash;not too high-priced," requested the man in a
+low voice. "I want to see you on a very particular matter&mdash;that is, it's
+particular to me," he added, significantly. "Will you come and see
+me&mdash;after you take care of your friends?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why, yes, I guess so&mdash;perhaps to-morrow," replied Joe, for he did not
+fancy going out in the storm again that night. "But why can't you stop
+off at my house now?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"No, I don't want to do that," the man objected. "I'd rather you would
+come to see me," and there was a note of appeal in his voice.</p>
+
+<p>"Very well, I'll see you to-morrow," Joe promised, wondering if this
+man's seeking of him had any connection with his possible draft to the
+St. Louis Cardinals.</p>
+
+<p class="con"><a href="#contents">Back to contents</a></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span><a name="V" id="V"></a>CHAPTER V<br />
+<br />
+<small>THE THREAT</small></h2>
+
+
+<p>"<span class="smcap">Here's</span> a boarding house that will suit you, I think," announced Joe, a
+little later, as he stopped the horses in front of a sort of hostelry of
+good reputation. It was not as large nor as stylish as some of the other
+places in Riverside, but Joe bore in mind the man's request to be taken
+to a moderate-priced establishment.</p>
+
+<p>"Thanks," said the stranger. "Then you'll come here to see me to-morrow?
+I'll be in all day."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll call in the afternoon, Mr.&mdash;er&mdash;&mdash;" and Joe hesitated. "I don't
+believe I caught your name," he said, significantly.</p>
+
+<p>"No, I didn't mention it, but it's Shalleg," was the answer.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, of the Clevefield team!" exclaimed the young player, knowing now
+where he had heard the voice before.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, of the Clevefield team," admitted Mr. Shalleg, repeating the name
+of one of the nines forming the Central League, and which team<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span> Joe's
+club had met several times on the diamond.</p>
+
+<p>"I was trying, ever since you spoke, to recall where I'd met you
+before," went on Joe, "but you had me guessing. I'm glad to meet you
+again. I suppose you're going to stay with the League this coming
+season?"</p>
+
+<p>"I&mdash;er&mdash;I haven't quite made my plans," was the somewhat hesitating
+answer. "I've been looking about. I was over in Rocky Ford this morning,
+seeing a friend, and I happened to recall that you lived in Riverside,
+so I came on, but lost my way in the storm. I didn't recognize you back
+there, where you had the upset."</p>
+
+<p>"The lack of recognition was mutual," laughed Joe, puzzling over what
+Shalleg's object could be in seeking him. "Well, I must get these folks
+in out of the storm," Joe went on. "I'll see you to-morrow, Mr.
+Shalleg."</p>
+
+<p>The latter alighted from the cutter, and entered the boarding house,
+while Joe turned the heads of the horses toward his own home.</p>
+
+<p>"I guess you'll be glad to get indoors," he said to Reggie and Mabel.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, it's pretty cold," Reggie admitted, "though I suppose my sister
+will say she likes it."</p>
+
+<p>"I do!" declared Mabel. "But it isn't so nice when it's dark," she
+confessed.</p>
+
+<p>They were now on the principal street of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span> Riverside, and the lamps from
+the shop windows gleamed dimly on the swirling flakes, and drifts of
+snow.</p>
+
+<p>A little later Joe pulled up in front of his own house, and escorted the
+visitors into the cheery living room.</p>
+
+<p>"Here they are, Mother&mdash;Clara!" he called, as Mrs. Matson and her
+daughter came out to welcome their guests.</p>
+
+<p>"I am glad to see you," said Clara, simply, as she kissed Mabel&mdash;&mdash;and
+one look from the sister's eyes told Joe that Clara approved of his
+friends.</p>
+
+<p>"Where's father?" asked Joe.</p>
+
+<p>"Bathing his eyes," replied his mother. "He'll be here presently," for
+Mr. Matson had recently undergone an operation on his eyes, after an
+accident, and they still needed care.</p>
+
+<p>Soon a merry party was gathered about the supper table, where the events
+of the day were told, from the receipt by Joe of the two letters, to the
+rescue from the stalled train, and the accident in the snow.</p>
+
+<p>"But I sure would like to know what it is Shalleg wants," mused Joe, who
+had come back from leaving the horses at the livery stable. "I sure
+would."</p>
+
+<p>"Didn't he give you any hint?" asked Clara.</p>
+
+<p>"No. But perhaps he wants some advice<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span> about baseball matters. I'm
+getting to be some pumpkins, you know, since St. Louis is after me!"
+cried Joe, with simulated pride.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, do tell us about it!" cried Mabel, and Joe related the news of the
+draft that would probably take him to the big league.</p>
+
+<p>Reggie and Mabel spent the night at Joe's house. The storm kept up
+through the hours of darkness, and part of the next day, when it
+stopped, and the sun came out. Old Sol shone on a scene of whiteness,
+where big drifts of snow were piled here and there.</p>
+
+<p>"I wonder how the stalled train is faring?" remarked Mabel, after
+breakfast. "We'll have to get our trunks away from it, somehow, Reggie."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I suppose so," he said. "And I've got to look after those business
+matters. I think we had better go to the hotel," he added.</p>
+
+<p>"Very well," assented Joe. "I'll go down to the station with you, and
+we'll see about your baggage."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll stay here until you boys come back," decided Mabel, who had taken
+as great a liking to Clara, as the latter had to her.</p>
+
+<p>Joe and Reggie found that the train was still stalled in the snow drift,
+but a large force of shovelers was at work, and the prospect was that
+the line would be opened that afternoon. Thereupon<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span> Reggie went to the
+hotel to arrange about his own room, and one for his sister.</p>
+
+<p>"And I'll go see Shalleg," decided Joe. "Might as well get it over with,
+though I did tell him I wouldn't come until afternoon. I'm anxious to
+know what it's all about."</p>
+
+<p>"He's making a sort of mystery of it," observed Reggie.</p>
+
+<p>"Somewhat," admitted Joe, with a smile.</p>
+
+<p>Greatly to his relief (for Joe was anxious to get the matter over with)
+he found Shalleg at the boarding house when he called.</p>
+
+<p>"Come up to my room," invited the baseball player. "It's warmer than
+down in the parlor."</p>
+
+<p>In his room he motioned Joe to a chair, and then, looking intently at
+the young pitcher, said:</p>
+
+<p>"Matson, do you know what it is to be down and out?"</p>
+
+<p>"Down and out? What do you mean?"</p>
+
+<p>"I mean to have few friends, and less money. Do you know what that
+means?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, not personally," said Joe, "though I can't boast of a superfluity
+of money myself."</p>
+
+<p>"You've got more than I have!" snapped Shalleg.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know about that," said Joe, slowly, wondering whither the
+conversation was leading.</p>
+
+<p>"Your team won the pennant!" cried the man, and Joe, as he caught the
+odor of his breath,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span> realized what made Shalleg's manner so excited. The
+man was partially intoxicated. Joe wished he had not come. "Your team
+won the pennant," Shalleg went on, "and that meant quite a little money
+for every player. You must have gotten your share, and I'd like to
+borrow some of you, Matson. I'm down and out, I tell you, and I need
+money bad&mdash;until I can get on my feet again."</p>
+
+<p>Joe did not answer for a moment, but mentally he found a reason for
+Shalleg's being "off his feet" at present. Bad habits, very likely.</p>
+
+<p>"Can you let me have some money&mdash;until Spring opens?" proceeded Shalleg.
+"You'll be earning more then, whether I am or not, for I don't know that
+I'm going back with Clevefield. I suppose you'll play with the Pittston
+team?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know," answered Joe, preferring to reply to that question
+first. He wanted time to think about the other.</p>
+
+<p>"You don't know!" Shalleg exclaimed, in surprise.</p>
+
+<p>"No. I hear I am to be drafted to the St. Louis Nationals."</p>
+
+<p>"The St. Louis Nationals!" cried Shalleg. "That team! Why, that team is
+the one I&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>He came to a sudden halt.</p>
+
+<p>"What is it?" asked Joe, wonderingly.</p>
+
+<p>"I&mdash;er&mdash;I&mdash;er&mdash;well, never mind, now. Can<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span> you let me have&mdash;say, two
+hundred dollars?"</p>
+
+<p>"Two hundred dollars!" cried Joe. "I haven't that much money to spare.
+And, if I had, I don't know that I would be doing my duty to my father
+and mother to lend it."</p>
+
+<p>"But I need it!" cried Shalleg. "Did you ever know what it was to be
+down and out?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I've seen such sad cases, and I'm sorry for you," spoke Joe,
+softly. He thought of John Dutton, the broken-down pitcher whose rescue,
+from a life of ruin, had been due largely to our hero's efforts, as told
+in the volume immediately preceding this.</p>
+
+<p>"Being sorry isn't going to help," sneered Shalleg, and there was an
+ugly note in his voice. "I need money! You must have some left from your
+pennant winnings."</p>
+
+<p>"I had to spend a large sum for my father's operation," said Joe. "He
+has had bad luck, too. I really have no money to spare."</p>
+
+<p>"That's not so&mdash;I don't believe you!" snapped Shalleg. "You must have
+money, and I've got to get some. I've been begging from a lot of fellows
+who played ball with me, but they all turned me down. Now you're doing
+the same thing. You'd better be careful. I'm a desperate man!"</p>
+
+<p>"What do you mean?" asked Joe, in some alarm, for he thought the fellow
+meditated an attack. Joe looked to see with what he could<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span> defend
+himself, and he noted, though with no cowardly satisfaction, that the
+door to the hall was close at hand.</p>
+
+<p>"I mean just what I say. I'm desperately in need of money."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I'm very sorry, but I'm not in a position to be able to help
+you," said Joe, firmly. "Why don't you go to the manager of your team,
+and get him to give you an advance on your salary? That is often done.
+I'm sure if you told him your need he'd do it."</p>
+
+<p>"No, he wouldn't!" growled Shalleg. "I've got to borrow it somewhere
+else. Then you won't let me have it?" and he glowered at Joe.</p>
+
+<p>"I can't, even if I would."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't believe it!" snarled the other. "And now I tell you one thing.
+I'm a bad man to be bad friends with. If you don't let me have this
+money it will be the worse for you."</p>
+
+<p>"I guess you are forgetting yourself," returned Joe, quietly. "I did not
+come here to be threatened, or insulted. I guess you are not yourself,
+Mr. Shalleg. I am sorry, and I'll bid you good day."</p>
+
+<p>With that Joe walked out, but not before the infuriated man called after
+him:</p>
+
+<p>"And so you're going to St. Louis; are you? Well, look out for me,
+that's all I've got to say! Look out for Bill Shalleg!" and he slammed
+the door after Joe.</p>
+
+<p class="con"><a href="#contents">Back to contents</a></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span><a name="VI" id="VI"></a>CHAPTER VI<br />
+<br />
+<small>A WARNING</small></h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Joe Matson's</span> brain was in a whirl as he left the boarding house where
+Shalleg had made his strange threat. The young pitcher had never before
+gone through such an experience, and it had rather unnerved him.</p>
+
+<p>"I wonder what I'd better do?" he mused, as he walked along the street,
+where many men were busy clearing away the snow. "I don't like to report
+what he said to me to any of the baseball authorities, for it would look
+as though I was afraid of him. And I'm not!" declared Joe, sturdily.
+"Shalleg wasn't himself, or he wouldn't have said such things. He didn't
+know quite what he was doing, I guess."</p>
+
+<p>But, the more Joe thought of it, as he trudged along, the more worried
+he became.</p>
+
+<p>"He has a very bad temper, and he might do me some injury," mused Joe.
+"But, after all, what <em>can</em> he do? If he stays on the Clevefield team,
+and I go to St. Louis, we'll be far enough apart. I guess I won't do
+anything about it now."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span>But the youth could not altogether conceal the emotions that had swayed
+him during the strange interview. When, a little later, he called at the
+hotel to see if Reggie and his sister had comfortable rooms, his face
+must have showed something unusual, for Mabel asked:</p>
+
+<p>"Why, Joe, what is the matter?"</p>
+
+<p>"Matter? Nothing," he replied, with a laugh, but it was rather forced.</p>
+
+<p>"You look as though&mdash;something had happened," the girl went on. "Perhaps
+you haven't recovered from your efforts to rescue us from the stalled
+train last night."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes, I'm all over that," declared Joe, more at his ease now.</p>
+
+<p>"It was awfully good of you," proceeded Mabel. "Just think; suppose we
+had had to stay in that train until now?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, they've been relieved by this time," spoke Joe.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, but they had to stay there all night. I can't thank you enough for
+coming after us. Are you sure there is nothing the matter?" she
+insisted. "You haven't had bad news, about not making the St. Louis
+team; have you?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, indeed. I haven't had any news at all since that one letter from
+Mr. Gregory. And no news is good news, they say."</p>
+
+<p>"Not always," and she smiled.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span>"Are you comfortable here?" asked Joe, as he sat in the parlor between
+the bedrooms of brother and sister.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes. And Reggie likes it very much. He has a lot of business to
+attend to. Father is putting more and more on his shoulders each year.
+He wants him finally to take it up altogether. Reggie doesn't care so
+much for it, but it's good for him," and she smiled frankly at Joe.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, work is good," he admitted, "even if it is only playing baseball."</p>
+
+<p>"And that sometimes seems to me like hard work," responded Mabel.</p>
+
+<p>"It is," Joe admitted. "How long do you stay in Riverside?"</p>
+
+<p>"Three or four days yet. Why?"</p>
+
+<p>"Because there'll be good sleighing, and I thought perhaps you'd like to
+go out for a ride."</p>
+
+<p>"I shall be delighted!"</p>
+
+<p>"Then I'll arrange for it. Won't you come over to the house this
+evening?"</p>
+
+<p>"I have an engagement," she laughed.</p>
+
+<p>Joe looked disappointed. Mabel smiled.</p>
+
+<p>"It's with your sister," she said. "I promised to come over and learn a
+new lace pattern."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm just crazy about fancy work myself!" and Joe laughed in turn. "It's
+as bad as the new dances. I guess I'll stay home, too."</p>
+
+<p>"Do," Mabel invited. And when Joe took<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span> his leave some of the worry
+caused by Shalleg's threat had passed away.</p>
+
+<p>"I guess I'll say nothing about it," mused our hero. "It would do no
+good, and if father and mother heard about it they might worry. I'll
+just fight it out all alone. I guess Shalleg was only a 'bluff,' anyhow.
+He may be in desperate straits, but he had no right to make threats like
+that."</p>
+
+<p>Riverside was storm-bound for several days, and when she was finally dug
+out, and conditions were normal, there was still plenty of snow left for
+sleighing. Joe planned to take Mabel for a ride, and Reggie, hearing of
+it, asked Clara to be his guest.</p>
+
+<p>Two or three days passed, and Joe neither saw nor heard any more of
+Shalleg, except to learn, by judicious inquiry, that the surly and
+threatening fellow had left the boarding house to which Joe had taken
+him.</p>
+
+<p>"I guess he's gone off to try his game on some other players in the
+League," thought the young pitcher. "I hope he doesn't succeed, though.
+If he got money I'm afraid he'd make a bad use of it."</p>
+
+<p>There came another letter from Mr. Gregory, in which he told Joe that,
+while the matter was still far from being settled, the chances were that
+the young pitcher would be drafted to St. Louis.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span>"I will let you know, in plenty of time, whether you are to train with
+us, or with the big league," the manager of the Pittston team wrote. "So
+you will have to hold yourself in readiness to do one or the other."</p>
+
+<p>"They don't give you much choice; do they?" spoke Reggie, when Joe told
+him this news. "You've got to do just as they tell you; haven't you?"</p>
+
+<p>"In a measure, yes," assented Joe. "Baseball is big business. Why, I
+read an article the other day that stated how over fifty million persons
+pay fifteen million dollars every year just to see the games, and the
+value of the different clubs, grounds and so on mounts up to many
+millions more."</p>
+
+<p>"It sure is big business," agreed Reggie. "I might go into it myself."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, more than one fortune has been made at it," observed Joe.</p>
+
+<p>"But I don't like the idea of the club owners and managers doing as they
+please with the players. It seems to take away your freedom," argued the
+other lad.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, in a sense I suppose it does," admitted Joe. "And yet the
+interests of the players are always being looked after. We don't have to
+be baseball players unless we want to; but, once we sign a contract, we
+have to abide by it.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span>"Then, too, the present organization has brought to the players bigger
+salaries than they ever got before. Of course we chaps in the minor
+leagues aren't bid for, as are those in the big leagues. But we always
+hope to be."</p>
+
+<p>"It seems funny, for one manager to buy a player from another manager,"
+went on Reggie.</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose so, but I've grown sort of used to it," Joe replied. "Of
+course the players themselves don't benefit by the big sum one manager
+may give another for the services of a star fielder or pitcher, but it
+all helps our reputations."</p>
+
+<p>"Is the St. Louis team considered pretty good?" Reggie wanted to know.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, it could be better," confessed Joe, slowly. "They reached one
+place from the top of the second division last season, but if I play
+with them I'll try to pull them to the top of the second half, anyhow,"
+he added, with a laugh. "The Cardinals never have been considered so
+very good, but the club is a money-maker, and we can't all be pennant
+winners," he admitted, frankly.</p>
+
+<p>"No, I suppose not," agreed Reggie. "Well, I wish you luck, whatever you
+do this Summer. If I ever get out to St. Louis I'll stop off and see you
+play."</p>
+
+<p>"Do," urged Joe. He hoped Mabel would come also.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span>When Joe reached home that afternoon his mother met him in the living
+room, and said quickly:</p>
+
+<p>"Someone is waiting for you in the parlor, Joe."</p>
+
+<p>"Gracious! I hope it isn't Shalleg!" thought the young pitcher. "If he
+has come here to make trouble&mdash;&mdash;" And his heart sank.</p>
+
+<p>But as he entered the room a glad smile came over his face.</p>
+
+<p>"Hello, Charlie Hall!" he cried, at the sight of the shortstop of the
+Pittston team, with whom Joe had been quite chummy during the league
+season. "What good wind blows you here?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, you know I'm a traveling salesman during the Winter, and I happened
+to make this town to-day. Just thought I'd step up and see how you
+were."</p>
+
+<p>"Glad you did! It's a real pleasure to see you. Going back at the game
+in the Spring, I expect; aren't you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Sure. I wouldn't miss it for anything. But what's this I hear about
+you?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know. Nothing to my discredit, I hope," and Joe smiled.</p>
+
+<p>"Far from it, old man. But there's a rumor among some of the old boys
+that you're to be drafted to the Cardinals. How about it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, Gregory told me as much, but it isn't<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span> all settled yet. Say,
+Charlie, now you're here, I want to ask you something."</p>
+
+<p>"Fire ahead."</p>
+
+<p>"Do you know a fellow named Shalleg?"</p>
+
+<p>Charlie Hall started.</p>
+
+<p>"It's queer you should ask me that," he responded, slowly.</p>
+
+<p>"Why?" Joe wanted to know.</p>
+
+<p>"Because that's one of the reasons I stopped up to talk to you. I want
+to warn you against Shalleg."</p>
+
+<p>"Warn me! What do you mean?" and Joe thought of the threats the man had
+made.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, you know he's out of the Clevefield team; don't you?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, I didn't know it," replied Joe. "But go on. I'll tell you something
+pretty soon."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, he's been given his unconditional release," went on Charlie. "He
+got to gambling, and doing other things no good ball player can expect
+to do, and keep in the game, and he was let go. And I heard something
+that made me come here to warn you, Joe. There may be nothing in it, but
+Shalleg&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>There came a knock at the door of the parlor, and Joe held up a warning
+hand.</p>
+
+<p>"Wait a minute," he whispered.</p>
+
+<p class="con"><a href="#contents">Back to contents</a></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span><a name="VII" id="VII"></a>CHAPTER VII<br />
+<br />
+<small>BASEBALL TALK</small></h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">There</span> was silence for a moment, following Joe's warning, and then the
+voice of his mother was heard:</p>
+
+<p>"Joe, you're wanted on the telephone."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, all right," he answered in a relieved tone. "I didn't want her to
+hear about Shalleg," he added in a whisper to Charlie. "She and father
+would worry, and, with his recent sickness, that wouldn't be a good
+thing for him."</p>
+
+<p>"I should say not," agreed the other ball player.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll be right there, Mother," went on Joe, in louder tones and then he
+went to the hall, where the telephone stood. It was only a message from
+a local sporting goods dealer, saying that he had secured for Joe a
+certain glove he had had made to order.</p>
+
+<p>Joe went back to his chum, and the baseball talk was renewed.</p>
+
+<p>"What were you going to say that Shalleg was up to?" asked Joe.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span>"As I was saying," resumed Charlie, "there may be nothing in the rumor,
+but it's the talk, in baseball circles, that Shalleg has been trying his
+best, since being released, to get a place with the Cardinals."</p>
+
+<p>"You don't mean it!" cried Joe. "That accounts for his surprise, and
+perhaps for his bitter feeling against me when I told him there was a
+chance that I would go to St. Louis."</p>
+
+<p>"Probably," agreed Charlie. "So, having heard this, and knowing that
+Shalleg is a hard character, I thought I'd warn you."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm glad you did," returned Joe warmly. "It was very good of you to go
+to that trouble. And, after the experience I had with Shalleg, I
+shouldn't wonder but what there was something in it. Though why he
+should be vindictive toward me is more than I can fathom. I certainly
+never did anything to him, except to refuse to lend him money, and I
+actually had to do that."</p>
+
+<p>"Of course," agreed Charlie. "But I guess, from his bad habits, his mind
+is warped. He is abnormal, and your refusal, coupled with the fact that
+you are probably going to a team that he has tried his best to make, and
+can't, simply made him wild. So, if I were you, I should be on the
+lookout, Joe."</p>
+
+<p>"I certainly will. It's queer that I met Shalleg the way I did&mdash;in the
+storm. It was quite<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span> an unusual coincidence. It seems he had been to
+Rocky Ford, a town near here, to see if he could borrow money from
+somebody there&mdash;at least so he said. Then he heard I lived here, and he
+started for Riverside, and got lost on the way, in the storm. Altogether
+it was rather queer. I never was so surprised in my life as when, after
+riding with me for some time, the man said he was looking for me."</p>
+
+<p>"It <em>was</em> queer," agreed Charlie. "Well, the only thing to do, after
+this, is to steer clear of him. And, after all, it may only be talk."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," assented Joe, "and now let's talk about something pleasant. How
+are you, anyhow? What are your plans for the coming season? And how are
+all the boys since we played the last pennant game?"</p>
+
+<p>"Gracious!" exclaimed Charlie with a laugh. "You fire almost as many
+questions at a fellow as a lawyer would."</p>
+
+<p>Then the two plunged into baseball talk, which, as it has no special
+interest for my readers, I shall omit.</p>
+
+<p>"Have you anything special to do?" asked Joe, as Charlie and he came to
+a pause in recalling scenes and incidents, many of which you will find
+set down in the previous book of this series.</p>
+
+<p>"No. After I clean up all the orders I can<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span> here I will have a few days'
+vacation," replied Hall.</p>
+
+<p>"Good!" cried Joe. "Then spend them with me. Reggie Varley and his
+sister are here for a while&mdash;you remember Reggie; don't you, Charlie?"</p>
+
+<p>"As well as you remember his sister, I reckon," was the laughing
+rejoinder.</p>
+
+<p>"Never mind that. Then I'll count on you. I'll introduce you to a nice
+girl, and we'll get up a little sleigh-riding party. There'll be a fine
+moon in a couple of nights."</p>
+
+<p>"Go as far as you like with me," invited Charlie. "I'm not in training
+yet, and I guess a late oyster supper, after a long ride, won't do me
+any particular harm."</p>
+
+<p>Charlie departed for the hotel, to get his baggage, for he was going to
+finish out the rest of his stay in Riverside as Joe's guest, and the
+young pitcher went to get the new glove, about which he had received the
+telephone message.</p>
+
+<p>It was a little later that day that, as Clara was passing her brother's
+room, she heard a curious, thumping noise.</p>
+
+<p>"I wonder what that is?" she murmured. "Sounds as though Joe were
+working at a punching bag. Joe, what in the world are you doing?" she
+asked, pausing outside his door.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span>"Making a pocket in my new glove," he answered. "Come on in, Sis. I'm
+all covered with olive oil, or I'd open the door for you."</p>
+
+<p>"Olive oil! The idea! Are you making a salad, as well?" she asked
+laughingly, as she pushed open the portal.</p>
+
+<p>She saw her brother, attired in old clothes, alternately pouring a few
+drops of olive oil on his new pitcher's glove, and then, with an old
+baseball pounding a hollow place in the palm.</p>
+
+<p>"What does it mean?" asked Clara.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I'm just limbering up my new glove," answered Joe. "If I'm to play
+with a big team, like the St. Louis Cardinals, I want to have the best
+sort of an outfit. You know a ball will often slip out of a new glove,
+so I'm making a sort of 'pocket' in this one, only not as deep as in a
+catcher's mitt, so it will hold the ball better."</p>
+
+<p>"But why the olive oil?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, well, of course any good oil would do, but this was the handiest.
+The oil softens the leather, and makes it pliable. And say, if you
+haven't anything else to do, there's an old glove, that's pretty badly
+ripped; you might sew it up. It will do to practice with."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll sew it to-morrow, Joe. I've got to make a new collar now. Mabel
+and I are going to the matinee, and I want to look my best."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span>"Oh, all right," agreed Joe easily. "There's no special hurry," and he
+went on thumping the baseball into the hollow of the new glove.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, Joe, is there anything new in the baseball situation?" asked Mr.
+Matson of his son a little later. The inventor, whose eyesight had been
+saved by the operation (to pay for which most of Joe's pennant money
+went) was able to give part of his time to his business now.</p>
+
+<p>"No, there's not much new, Dad," replied the young player. "I am still
+waiting to hear definitely about St. Louis. I do hope I am drafted
+there."</p>
+
+<p>"It means quite an advance for you; doesn't it, Joe?"</p>
+
+<p>"Indeed it does, Dad. There aren't many players who are taken out of a
+small league, to a major one, at the close of their first season. I
+suppose I ought to be proud."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I hope you are, Joe, in a proper way," said Mr. Matson. "Pride,
+of the right sort, is very good. And I'm glad of your prospective
+advance. I am sure it was brought about by hard work, and, after all,
+that is the only thing that counts. And you did work hard, Joe."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I suppose I did," admitted the young pitcher modestly, as he
+thought of the times he pitched when his arm ached, and when his nerves<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span>
+were all unstrung on account of the receipt of bad news. "But other
+fellows worked hard, too," he went on. "You've <em>got</em> to work hard in
+baseball."</p>
+
+<p>"Will it be any easier on the St. Louis team?" his father wanted to
+know.</p>
+
+<p>"No, it will be harder," replied Joe. "I might as well face that at
+once."</p>
+
+<p>And it was well that Joe had thus prepared himself in advance, for
+before him, though he did not actually know it, were the hardest
+struggles to which a young pitcher could be subjected.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, there'll be hard work," Joe went on, "but I don't mind. I like it.
+And I'm not so foolish as to think that I'm going to go in, right off
+the reel, and become the star pitcher of the team. I guess I'll have to
+sit back, and warm the bench for quite a considerable time before I'm
+called on to pull the game out of the fire."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, that's all right, as long as you're there when the time comes,"
+said his father. "Stick to it, Joe, now that you are in it. Your mother
+didn't take much to baseball at first, but, the more I see of it, and
+read of it, the more I realize that it's a great business, and a clean
+sport. I'm glad you're in it, Joe."</p>
+
+<p>"And I am too, Dad."</p>
+
+<p class="con"><a href="#contents">Back to contents</a></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span><a name="VIII" id="VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII<br />
+<br />
+<small>THE QUARREL</small></h2>
+
+
+<p>"<span class="smcap">Are</span> we all here?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, what a glorious night!"</p>
+
+<p>"Did you ever see such a moon!"</p>
+
+<p>"Looks about as big as a baseball does when you're far from first and
+the pitcher is heaving it over, to tag you out!"</p>
+
+<p>This last observation from Joe Matson.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, what an unpoetical remark to make!"</p>
+
+<p>That from Mabel Varley.</p>
+
+<p>There came a chorus of laughter, shouts, good-natured jibes, little
+shrieks and giggles from the girls, and chuckles from the young men.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, let's get started," proposed Joe.</p>
+
+<p>It was the occasion of the sleigh ride that Joe had gotten up,
+ostensibly for the enjoyment of a number of his young friends, but, in
+reality for Mabel, who, with her brother, was still staying on in
+Riverside, for the Varley business was not yet finished.</p>
+
+<p>It was a glorious, wintry night, and in the sky<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span> hung the silvery moon,
+lighting up a few fleecy clouds with glinting beams, and bringing into
+greater brightness the sparkling snow that encrusted the earth.</p>
+
+<p>"Count noses," suggested Charlie Hill, who, with a young lady to whom
+Joe had introduced him a day or so before, was in the sleighing party.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll help," volunteered Mabel, who, of course, was being escorted by
+Joe, while Reggie had Clara under his care. Mabel and Joe made sure that
+all of their party were present. They were gathered in the office of the
+livery stable, whence they were to start, to go to a hotel about twelve
+miles distant&mdash;a hotel famous for its oyster suppers, as many a
+sleighing party, of which Joe had been a member, could testify.
+Following the supper there was to be a little dance, and the party,
+properly chaperoned, expected to return some time before morning.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I guess we're all here," Joe announced, as he looked among the
+young people. And it was no easy task to make sure, for they were
+constantly shifting about, going here and there, friends greeting
+friends.</p>
+
+<p>Four sturdy horses were attached to a big barge, in the bottom of which
+had been spread clean straw, for it was quite frosty, and, in spite of
+heavy wraps and blankets, feet would get cold.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span> But the straw served, in
+a measure, to keep them warm.</p>
+
+<p>"All aboard!" cried Charlie Hill, who had made himself a general
+favorite with all of Joe's friends. "All aboard!"</p>
+
+<p>"Why don't you say 'play ball'?" asked Mabel, with a laugh. "It seems to
+me, with a National Leaguer with us, the least we could do would be to
+make that our rallying cry!" Mabel was a real "sport."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not a big leaguer yet," protested Joe. "Don't go too strong on
+that. I may be turned back into the bushes."</p>
+
+<p>"Not much danger," commented Charlie, as he thought of the fine work Joe
+had done in times past. Joe was a natural born pitcher, but he had
+developed his talents by hard work, as my readers know.</p>
+
+<p>Into the sled piled the laughing, happy young folks, and then, snugly
+tucked in, the word was given, and, with a merry jingle of bells, away
+they went over the white snow.</p>
+
+<p>There were the old-time songs sung, after the party had reached the open
+country, and had taken the edge off their exuberance by tooting tin
+horns. "Aunt Dinah's Quilting Party," "My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean,"
+"Old Black Joe"&mdash;all these, and some other, more modern, songs were
+sung, more or less effectively. But, after all,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span> it was the spirit and
+not the melody that counted.</p>
+
+<p>On over the snowy road went the big sled, pulled by the willing horses,
+who seemed all the more willing because of the joyous party they were
+dragging along.</p>
+
+<p>"Look out for this grade-crossing," remarked Joe to the driver, for they
+were approaching the railroad.</p>
+
+<p>"I will, Joe," the man replied. "I have good occasion to remember this
+place, too."</p>
+
+<p>"So have I," spoke Mabel, in a low voice to her escort. "There is where
+we were snowed in; isn't it?" she asked, nodding in the direction of
+Deep Rock Cut.</p>
+
+<p>"That's the place," replied Joe.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir, I have occasion to remember this place," went on the driver.
+"And I'm always careful when I cross here, ever since, two years ago, I
+was nearly run down by a train. I had just such a load of young folks as
+I've got now," he went on.</p>
+
+<p>"How did it happen?" asked Reggie, as the runners scraped over the bare
+rails, a look up and down the moon-lit track showing no train in sight.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, the party was making quite a racket, and I didn't hear the
+whistle of the train," resumed the driver. "It was an extra, and I
+didn't count on it. We were on our way home, and we<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span> had a pretty narrow
+escape. Just got over in time, I tell you. The young folks were pretty
+quiet after that, and I was glad it happened on the way home, instead of
+going, or it would have spoiled all their fun. And, ever since then,
+whether I know there's a train due or not, I'm always careful of this
+crossing."</p>
+
+<p>"It makes one feel ever so much safer to have a driver like him," spoke
+Mabel to Clara.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, we can always trust Frank," replied Joe's sister.</p>
+
+<p>Laughing, shouting, singing and blowing the horns, the party went on its
+merry way, until the hotel was reached.</p>
+
+<p>Everything was in readiness for the young people, for the arrangements
+had been made in advance, and soon after the girls had "dolled-up," as
+Joe put it, by which he meant arranged their hair, that had become blown
+about under the scarfs they wore, they all sat down to a
+bountifully-spread table.</p>
+
+<p>"Reminds me of the dinner we had, after we won the pennant," said
+Charlie Hall.</p>
+
+<p>"Only it's so different," added Joe. "That was a hot night."</p>
+
+<p>Talk and merry laughter, mingled with baseball conversation went around
+the table. Joe did not care to "talk shop," but somehow or other, he
+could not keep away from the subject<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span> that was nearest his heart. Nor
+could Charlie, and the two shot diamond discussion back and forth, the
+others joining in occasionally.</p>
+
+<p>The meal was drawing to an end. Reggie Varley, pouring out a glass of
+water, rose to his feet.</p>
+
+<p>"Friends and fellow citizens," he began in a sort of "toastmaster
+voice."</p>
+
+<p>"Hear! Hear!" echoed Charlie, entering into the spirit of the occasion.</p>
+
+<p>"We have with us this evening," went on Reggie, in the approved manner
+of after-dinner introductions, "one whom you all well know, and whom it
+is scarcely necessary to name&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Hear! Hear!" interrupted Charlie, pounding on the table with his knife
+handle.</p>
+
+<p>All eyes were turned toward Joe, who could not help blushing.</p>
+
+<p>"I rise to propose the health of one whom we all know and love," went on
+Reggie, "and to assure him that we all wish him well in his new place."</p>
+
+<p>"Better wait until I get it," murmured Joe, to whom this was a great
+surprise.</p>
+
+<p>"To wish him all success," went on Reggie. "And I desire to add that, as
+a token of our esteem, and the love in which we hold him, we wish to
+present him this little token&mdash;and may it be a lucky omen for him when
+he is pitching away<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span> in the big league," and with this Reggie handed to
+Joe a stick-pin, in the shape of a baseball, the seams outlined in
+diamonds, and a little ruby where the trademark would have been.</p>
+
+<p>Poor Joe was taken quite by surprise.</p>
+
+<p>"Speech! Speech!" came the general cry.</p>
+
+<p>Joe fumbled the pin in his fingers, and for a moment there was a mist
+before his eyes. This little surprise had been arranged by Reggie, and
+he had quietly worked up the idea among Joe's many young friends, all of
+whom had contributed to the cost of the token.</p>
+
+<p>"Go on! Say something!" urged Mabel, at Joe's side.</p>
+
+<p>"Well&mdash;er&mdash;well, I&mdash;er&mdash;I don't know what to say," he stammered, "except
+that this is a great surprise to me, and that I&mdash;er&mdash;I thank you!"</p>
+
+<p>He sat down amid applause, and someone started up the song "For He's a
+Jolly Good Fellow!"</p>
+
+<p>It was sung with a will. Altogether the affair was successfully carried
+out, and formed one of the most pleasant remembrances in the life of
+Baseball Joe.</p>
+
+<p>After the presentation, others made impromptu speeches, even the girls
+being called on by Reggie, to whom the position of toastmaster
+particularly appealed.</p>
+
+<p>The supper was over. The girls were in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span> dressing room, donning their
+wraps, and Joe and Reggie had gone to the office to pay the bill.</p>
+
+<p>The proprietor of the hotel was in the men's room, and going there Joe
+was greeted by name, for the hotel man knew him well.</p>
+
+<p>"Everything satisfactory, Mr. Matson?" the host asked, and at the
+mention of Joe's name, a rough-looking fellow, who was buying a cigar,
+looked up quickly.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Mr. Todd, everything was fine," replied Joe, not noticing the
+man's glance. "Now we'll settle with you."</p>
+
+<p>"No hurry," said the proprietor. "I hear you're going to leave us
+soon&mdash;going up to a higher class in baseball, Joe."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, there's some talk of it," admitted our hero, and as he took out
+the money to make the payment, the rough-looking man passed behind him.
+Joe dropped a coin, and, in stooping to pick it up, he moved back a
+step. As he did so, he either collided with the man, who had observed
+him so narrowly, or else the fellow deliberately ran into Joe.</p>
+
+<p>"Look out where you're walking! You stepped on my foot!" exclaimed the
+man in surly tones. "Can't you see what you're doing? you country gawk!"</p>
+
+<p>"I beg your pardon," spoke Joe quietly, but a red flush came into his
+face, and his hands clenched involuntarily.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span>"Huh! Trying to put on high society airs; eh?" sneered the other. "I'll
+soon take that out of you. I say you stepped on me on purpose."</p>
+
+<p>"You are mistaken," said Joe, still quietly.</p>
+
+<p>"Huh! Do you mean to say I'm sayin' what ain't so?" demanded the other.</p>
+
+<p>"If you like to put it that way; yes," declared Joe, determined to stand
+upon his rights, for he felt that it had not been his fault.</p>
+
+<p>"Be careful," warned Reggie, in a low voice.</p>
+
+<p>"Say, young feller, I don't allow nobody to say that to me!" blustered
+the fellow, advancing on Joe with an ugly look. "You'll either beg my
+pardon, or give me satisfaction! I'll&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Now here. None of that!" interposed the proprietor. "You aren't hurt,
+Wessel."</p>
+
+<p>"How do you know? And didn't he accuse me of&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, get out. You're always ready to pick a quarrel," went on the hotel
+man. "Move on!"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, then let him beg my pardon," insisted the other. "If he don't,
+I'll take it out of him," and his clenched fist indicated his meaning
+only too plainly.</p>
+
+<p class="con"><a href="#contents">Back to contents</a></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span><a name="IX" id="IX"></a>CHAPTER IX<br />
+<br />
+<small>JOE IS DRAFTED</small></h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">For</span> a moment Joe stood facing the angry man&mdash;unnecessarily angry, it
+seemed&mdash;since, even if the young ball player had trod on his foot, the
+injury could not have amounted to much.</p>
+
+<p>"I told you once that I was sorry for having collided with you, though I
+do not believe it was my fault," spoke Joe, holding himself in check
+with an effort. "That is all I intend to say, and you may make the most
+of it."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll make the most of you, if you don't look out!" blustered the man.
+"If you'll just step outside we can settle this little argument to the
+queen's taste," and he seemed very eager to have Joe accept his
+challenge.</p>
+
+<p>"Now see here! There'll be no fighting on these premises," declared the
+hotel proprietor, with conviction.</p>
+
+<p>"No, we'll do it outside," growled the man.</p>
+
+<p>"Not with me. I don't intend to fight you," said Joe as quietly as he
+could.</p>
+
+<p>"Huh! Afraid; eh?"</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span>"No, not afraid."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, you're a coward and a&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"That will do, Wessel. Get out!" and the proprietor's voice left no room
+for argument. The man slunk away, giving Joe a surly look, and then the
+supper bill was paid, and receipted.</p>
+
+<p>"Who was he?" asked Joe, when the fellow was out of sight.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I don't know any good of him," replied the hotel man. "He's been
+hanging around town ever since the ball season closed."</p>
+
+<p>"Is he a player?" Joe inquired.</p>
+
+<p>"No. I'm inclined to think he's a gambler. I know he was always wanting
+to make bets on the games around here, but no one paid much attention to
+him. You don't know him; do you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Never saw him before, as far as I recollect," returned Joe slowly. "I
+wonder why he wanted to pick a quarrel with me? For that was certainly
+his object."</p>
+
+<p>"It was," agreed Reggie, "and he didn't pay much attention to you until
+he heard your name."</p>
+
+<p>"I wonder if he could be&mdash;&mdash;?" began Joe, and then he hesitated in his
+half-formed question. Reggie looked at his friend inquiringly, but Joe
+did not proceed.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't say anything about this to the girls," requested Joe, as they
+went upstairs.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, no, of course not," agreed Reggie. "He<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span> was only some loafer, I
+expect, who had a sore head. Best to keep it quiet."</p>
+
+<p>Joe was more upset by the incident than he liked to admit. He could not
+understand the man's motive in trying so hard to force him into a fight.</p>
+
+<p>"Not that I would be afraid," reasoned Joe, for he was in good
+condition, and in splendid fighting trim, due to his clean living and
+his outdoor playing. "I think I could have held my own with him," he
+thought, "only I don't believe in fighting, if it can be avoided.</p>
+
+<p>"But there was certainly something more than a little quarrel back of it
+all. Wessel is his name; eh? I must remember that."</p>
+
+<p>Joe made a mental note of it, but he little realized that he was to hear
+the name again under rather strange circumstances.</p>
+
+<p>"What's the matter?" asked Mabel, on the way home in the sleigh, drawn
+by the prancing horses with their jingling bells.</p>
+
+<p>"Why?" parried Joe.</p>
+
+<p>"You are so quiet."</p>
+
+<p>"Well&mdash;I didn't count on so much happening to-night."</p>
+
+<p>"You mean about that little pin? I think it's awfully sweet."</p>
+
+<p>"Did you help pick it out?" asked Joe, seeing a chance to turn the
+conversation.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span>"Yes. Reggie asked me what I thought would be nice, and I chose that."</p>
+
+<p>"Couldn't have been better," declared Joe, with enthusiasm. "I shall
+always keep it!"</p>
+
+<p>They rode on, but Joe could not shake off the mood that had seized him.
+He could not forget the look and words of the man who endeavored to
+force a quarrel with him&mdash;for what object Joe could only guess.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm sure there's something the matter," insisted Mabel, when the song
+"Jingle Bells!" had died away. "Have I done anything to displease you?"
+she asked, for she had "split" one dance with Charlie Hall.</p>
+
+<p>"No, indeed!" cried Joe, glad that he could put emphasis into his
+denial. "There's nothing really the matter."</p>
+
+<p>"Unless you're sorry you're going away out to Missouri," persisted the
+girl.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I am sorry&mdash;that is, if I really have to go," spoke the young
+ball player sincerely. "Of course it isn't at all certain that I will
+go."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I guess it's certain enough," she said. "And I really hope you do
+go."</p>
+
+<p>"It's pretty far off," said Joe. "I'll have to make my headquarters in
+St. Louis."</p>
+
+<p>"Reggie and I expect to be in the West a good part of the coming
+Summer," went on Mabel, in even tones. "It's barely possible that
+Reggie<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span> may make his business headquarters in St. Louis, for papa's
+trade is shifting out that way."</p>
+
+<p>"You don't mean it!" cried Joe, and some of his companions in the sleigh
+wondered at the warmth of his tone.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes, I do," said Mabel. "So I shall see you play now and then; for
+I'm as ardent a 'fan' as I ever was."</p>
+
+<p>"That's good," returned Joe. "I'm glad I'm going to a major league&mdash;that
+is, if they draft me," he added quickly. "I didn't know you might be out
+there."</p>
+
+<p>From then on the thought of going to St. Louis was more pleasant to Joe.</p>
+
+<p>The sleigh ride was a great success in every particular. The young
+people reached home rather late&mdash;or, rather early in the morning, happy
+and not too tired.</p>
+
+<p>"It was fine; wasn't it?" whispered Clara, as she and her brother
+tip-toed their way into the house, so as not to awaken their parents.</p>
+
+<p>"Dandy!" he answered softly.</p>
+
+<p>"Weren't you surprised about the pin?"</p>
+
+<p>"Of course I was."</p>
+
+<p>"But you don't seem exactly happy. Is something worrying you? I heard
+Mabel ask you the same thing."</p>
+
+<p>"Did you?" inquired Joe, non-committally.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. Is anything the matter?"</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span>"No, Sis. Get to bed. It's late."</p>
+
+<p>Clara paused for a moment. She realized that Joe had not answered her
+question as she would have liked.</p>
+
+<p>"But I guess he's thinking of the change he may have to make," the
+sister argued. "Joe is a fine fellow. He certainly has gone ahead in
+baseball faster than he would have done in some other line of endeavor.
+Well, it's good he likes it.</p>
+
+<p>"And yet," she mused, as she went to her room, "I wonder what it is that
+is worrying him?"</p>
+
+<p>If she could have seen Joe, at that same moment, sitting on the edge of
+a chair in his apartment, moodily staring at the wall, she would have
+wondered more.</p>
+
+<p>"What was his game?" thought Joe, as he recalled the scene with the man
+at the hotel. "What was his object?"</p>
+
+<p>But he could not answer his own question.</p>
+
+<p>Joe's sleep was disturbed the remainder of that night&mdash;short as the
+remainder was.</p>
+
+<p>At breakfast table, the next morning, the story of the jolly sleigh ride
+was told to Mr. and Mrs. Matson. Of course Joe said nothing of the
+dispute with the surly man.</p>
+
+<p>"And here's the pin they gave me," finished the young player as he
+passed around the emblem that had been so unexpectedly presented to
+him.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span>His mother was looking at it when the doorbell rang, and the maid, who
+answered it, brought back a telegram.</p>
+
+<p>"It's for Mr. Joseph," she announced.</p>
+
+<p>Joe's face was a little pale as he tore open the yellow envelope, and
+then, as he glanced at the words written on the sheet of paper, he
+exclaimed:</p>
+
+<p>"It's settled! I'm drafted to St. Louis!"</p>
+
+<p class="con"><a href="#contents">Back to contents</a></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span><a name="X" id="X"></a>CHAPTER X<br />
+<br />
+<small>OFF TO ST. LOUIS</small></h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">For</span> a few seconds, after Joe's announcement, there was silence in the
+room. Then, as the realization of what it meant came to them, Clara was
+the first to speak.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm <em>so</em> glad, Joe," she said, simply, but there was real meaning in
+her words.</p>
+
+<p>"And I congratulate you, son," added Mr. Matson. "It's something to be
+proud of, even if St. Louis isn't in the first division."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, they'll get there, as soon as I begin pitching," declared Joe with
+a smile.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Matson said nothing for a while. Her son, and the rest of the
+family, knew of her objection to baseball, and her disappointment that
+Joe had not entered the ministry, or some of the so-called learned
+professions.</p>
+
+<p>But, as she looked at the smiling and proud face of her boy she could
+not help remarking:</p>
+
+<p>"Joe, I, too, am very glad for your sake. I don't know much about
+sporting matters, but I suppose this is a promotion."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span>"Indeed it is, Mother!" Joe cried, getting up to go around the table and
+kiss her. "It's a fine promotion for a young player, and now it's up to
+me to make good. And I will, too!" he added earnestly.</p>
+
+<p>"Is that all Mr. Gregory, your former manager, says in the telegram?"
+asked Mr. Matson.</p>
+
+<p>"No, he says a letter of explanation will follow, and also a contract to
+sign."</p>
+
+<p>"Will you get more money, Joe?" asked Clara.</p>
+
+<p>"Sure, Sis. I know what you're thinking of," Joe added, with a smile at
+the girl, as he put his stick-pin in his scarf. "You're thinking of the
+ring I promised to buy you if I got this place. Well, I'll keep my word.
+You can go down and get measured for it to-day."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Joe, what a good brother you are!" she cried.</p>
+
+<p>"Then you really will get more money?" asked Mrs. Matson, and her voice
+was a bit eager. Indeed Joe's salary, and the cash he received as his
+share of the pennant games, had been a blessing to the family during Mr.
+Matson's illness, for the inventor had lost considerable funds.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I'll get quite a bit more," said Joe. "I got fifteen hundred a
+year with the Pittstons, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span> Mr. Gregory said I ought to get at least
+double that if I go with St. Louis. It will put us on Easy Street; won't
+it, Momsey?"</p>
+
+<p>"It will be very welcome," she replied, with a sigh, but it was rather a
+happy sigh at that. She had known the pinch of hard times in her day,
+had Mrs. Matson.</p>
+
+<p>"I'd have to be at the game of lawyering or doctoring a long while,
+before I'd get an advance like this," went on Joe, as he read the
+telegram over a second time. And then he put it carefully in his pocket,
+to be filed away with other treasures, such as young men love to look at
+from time to time; a faded flower, worn by "Someone," a letter or two,
+a&mdash;but there, I promised not to tell secrets.</p>
+
+<p>The first one who knew of his promotion, after the folks at home, was
+Mabel. Joe made some excuse to call at the hotel. Reggie was out on
+business, but Joe did not mind that.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I'm so glad&mdash;for your sake, Joe!" exclaimed Mabel warmly. "I hope
+you make a great reputation!"</p>
+
+<p>"It won't be from lack of trying," he said, with a smile. "And I do hope
+you can get out to St. Louis this Summer."</p>
+
+<p>"We expect to," she answered. "I have been there with Reggie several
+times."</p>
+
+<p>"What sort of a place is it?" asked Joe<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span> eagerly, "and where does my
+team play?" he inquired, with an accent on the "my."</p>
+
+<p>"There are two major league teams in St. Louis," explained Mabel, who,
+as I have said, was an ardent "fan." She was almost as good as a boy in
+this respect. "The National League St. Louis team, or the 'Cardinals,'
+as I suppose you know they are nicknamed, plays on Robison Field, at
+Vandeventer and Natural Bridge road. I've often been out there to games
+with Reggie, but I'll look forward to seeing them now, with a lot more
+pleasure," she added, blushing slightly.</p>
+
+<p>"Thanks," laughed Joe. "I guess I'll be able to find my way about the
+city. But, after all, I'll be likely to strike it with the team, for
+I'll probably have to go South training before I report in St. Louis."</p>
+
+<p>"It isn't hard to find your way about St. Louis," went on Mabel. "Just
+take a Natural Bridge line car, and that'll bring you out to Robison
+Field. Or you can take a trunk line, and transfer to Vandeventer. But
+the best way is the Natural Bridge route. Is there anything else you'd
+like to know?" she asked, with a smile. "Information supplied at short
+notice. The Browns, or American League team, play at Grand and
+Dodier&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I'm not interested in them!" interrupted<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span> Joe. "I'm going to stick
+to my colors&mdash;cardinal."</p>
+
+<p>"And I'll wear them, too," said Mabel in a low voice, and the blush in
+her cheeks deepened. Already she was wearing Joe's color.</p>
+
+<p>"This is our last day here," the girl went on, after a pause.</p>
+
+<p>"It is?" cried Joe in surprise. "Why, I thought&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I'm sorry, too," she broke in with. "You have given Reggie and me a
+lovely time. I've enjoyed myself very much."</p>
+
+<p>"Not half as much as <em>I</em> have," murmured Joe.</p>
+
+<p>Reggie came in a little later, and congratulated the young player, and
+then Charlie Hall added his good wishes. It was his last day in town
+also, and he and the Varleys left on the same train, Joe and his sister
+going to the station to see them off.</p>
+
+<p>"If you get snowed in again, just let me know," called Joe, with a
+laugh, as the train pulled out. "I'll come for you in an airship."</p>
+
+<p>"Thanks!" laughed Mabel, as she waved her hand in a final good-bye.</p>
+
+<p>As Joe was leaving the station a train from Rocky Ford pulled in, and
+one of the passengers who alighted from it was the ill-favored man who
+had endeavored to pick a quarrel with Joe at the hotel the night
+before.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span>The fellow favored the young player with a surly glance, and seemed
+about to approach him. Then, catching sight of Clara at her brother's
+side, he evidently thought better of it, and veered off.</p>
+
+<p>Joe's face must have showed his surprise at the sight of the man, for
+Clara asked:</p>
+
+<p>"Who is that fellow, Joe? He looked at you in such a peculiar way. Do
+you know him?"</p>
+
+<p>Joe was glad he could answer in the negative. He really did not know the
+man, and did not want to, though it certainly seemed strange that he
+should encounter him again.</p>
+
+<p>"He seems to know you," persisted Clara, for the man had looked back at
+Joe twice.</p>
+
+<p>"Maybe he thinks he does, or maybe he wants to," went on the pitcher,
+trying to speak indifferently. "Probably he's heard that I'm the coming
+twirling wonder of the Cardinals," and he pretended to swell up his
+chest, and look important.</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing like having a good opinion of yourself," laughed Clara.</p>
+
+<p>That afternoon's mail brought Joe a letter from Mr. Gregory, in which
+the news contained in the telegram was confirmed. It was also stated
+that Joe would receive formal notice of his draft from the St. Louis
+team, and his contract, which was to be signed in duplicate.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span>"I wish he'd said something about salary," mused our hero. "But probably
+the other letter, from the St. Louis manager, will have that in, and the
+contract will, that's certain."</p>
+
+<p>The following day all the details were settled. Joe received formal
+notice of his draft from the Pittstons to the St. Louis Cardinals. He
+was to play for a salary of three thousand dollars a year.</p>
+
+<p>In consideration of this he had to agree to certain conditions, among
+them being that he would not play with any other team without permission
+from the organized baseball authorities, and, as long as he was in the
+game, and accepted the salary, he would be subject to the call of any
+other team in the league, the owners of which might wish to "purchase"
+him; that is, if they paid the St. Louis team sufficient money.</p>
+
+<p>"I wonder what they'll consider me worth, say at the end of the first
+season?" said Joe to Clara.</p>
+
+<p>"What a way to talk!" she exclaimed. "As if you were a horse, or a
+slave."</p>
+
+<p>"It does sound a bit that way," he admitted, "and some of the star
+players bring a lot more than valuable horses. Why, some of the players
+on the New York Giants cost the owners ten and fifteen thousand dollars,
+and the Pittsburgh Nationals paid $22,500 for one star fellow as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span> a
+pitcher. I hope I get to be worth that to some club," laughed Joe, "but
+there isn't any danger&mdash;not right off the bat," he added with a smile.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, that's a part of baseball I'm not interested in," said Clara. "I
+like to see the game, but I watch it for the fun in it, not for the
+money."</p>
+
+<p>"And yet there has to be money to make it a success," declared Joe.
+"Grounds, grandstands and trips cost cash, and the owners realize on the
+abilities of the players. In return they pay them good salaries. Many a
+player couldn't make half as much in any other business. I'm glad I'm in
+it."</p>
+
+<p>Joe signed and returned the contract, and from then on he was the
+"property" of the St. Louis team, and subject to the orders of the
+owners and manager.</p>
+
+<p>A few days later Joe received his first instructions&mdash;to go to St.
+Louis, report to the manager, and then go South to the training camp,
+with the team. There his real baseball work, as a member of a big
+league, would start.</p>
+
+<p>Joe packed his grip, stowing away his favorite bat and his new pitcher's
+glove, said good-bye to his family and friends in Riverside, and took a
+train that eventually would land him in St. Louis, at the Union Depot.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span>The journey was without incident of moment, and in due time Joe reached
+the hotel where he had been told the players were quartered.</p>
+
+<p>"Is Mr. Watson here?" he asked the clerk, inquiring for the manager.</p>
+
+<p>"I think you'll find him in the billiard room," replied the clerk,
+sizing up Joe with a critical glance. "Here, boy, show this gentleman to
+Mr. Watson," went on the man at the register.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you know him by sight?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"No," replied Joe, rather sorry he did not.</p>
+
+<p>"I know him!" exclaimed the bellboy, coming forward, with a cheerful
+grin on his freckled face. "He sure has a good ball team. I hope they
+win the pennant this year. Are you one of the players?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"One of the new ones," spoke Joe, modestly enough.</p>
+
+<p>"Gee! Dat's great!" exclaimed the lad admiringly. "There's 'Muggins'
+Watson over there," and he pointed to a man in his shirt sleeves,
+playing billiards with a young fellow whom Joe recognized, from having
+seen his picture in the papers, as 'Slim' Cooney, one of the St. Louis
+pitchers.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Watson?" inquiringly asked Joe, waiting until the manager had made,
+successfully, a difficult shot, and stood at rest on his cue.</p>
+
+<p>"That's my name," and a pair of steel-blue<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span> eyes looked straight at our
+hero. "What can I do for you?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'm Joe Matson, and&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes, the new recruit I signed up from Pittston. Well, this is the
+first time I've seen you. Took you on the report of one of my men. Glad
+to meet you," and he held out a firm hand. "Slim," he went on to his
+opponent at billiards, "let me make you acquainted with one of your
+hated rivals&mdash;Joe Matson. Matson, this is our famous left-hand twirler."</p>
+
+<p>Joe laughed and shook hands. He liked the manager and the other player.
+I might state, at this point, that in this book, while I shall speak of
+the players of the Cardinals, and of the various National League teams,
+I will not use their real names, for obvious reasons. However, if any of
+you recognize them under their pseudonyms, I cannot help it.</p>
+
+<p class="con"><a href="#contents">Back to contents</a></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span><a name="XI" id="XI"></a>CHAPTER XI<br />
+<br />
+<small>GOING DOWN SOUTH</small></h2>
+
+
+<p>"<span class="smcap">Well</span>, are you going to help us win the pennant, Matson?" asked Manager
+Watson, when he had introduced Joe to a number of the other St. Louis
+players, who were lounging about the billiard room. It was a cold and
+blustery day outside, and the hotel, where the team had lately taken up
+quarters, ready for the trip to the South, offered more comfort than the
+weather without.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm going to do my best," replied Joe modestly, and he blushed, for
+most of the other players were older than he, many of them seasoned
+veterans, and the heroes of hard-fought contests.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, we sure do need help, if we're to get anywhere," murmured Hal
+Doolin, the snappy little first baseman. "We sure do!"</p>
+
+<p>"You needn't look at me!" fired back Slim Cooney. "I did my share of the
+work last season, and if I'd had decent support&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Easy now, boys!" broke in Mr. Watson.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span> "You know what the papers said
+about last year&mdash;that there were too many internal dissensions among the
+Cardinals to allow them to play good ball. You've got to cut that out if
+I'm going to manage you."</p>
+
+<p>I might add that Sidney Watson, who had made a reputation as a
+left-fielder, and a hard hitter on the Brooklyn team, had lately been
+offered the position as manager of the Cardinals, and had taken it. This
+would be his first season, and, recognizing the faults of the team, he
+had set about correcting them in an endeavor to get it out of the
+"cellar" class. Quarrels, bickerings and disputes among the players had
+been too frequent, he learned, and he was trying to eliminate them.</p>
+
+<p>"Have a heart for each other, boys," he said to the men who gathered
+about him, incidentally to covertly inspect Joe, the recruit. "It wasn't
+anybody's fault, in particular, that you didn't finish in the first
+division last season. But we're going to make a hard try for it this
+year. That's why I've let some of your older players go, and signed up
+new ones. I'm expecting some more boys on in a few days, and then we'll
+hike for the Southland and see what sort of shape I can pound you into."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't let me keep you from your game," said Joe to the manager.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span> "Oh,
+I'll let Campbell finish it for me, he's better at the ivories than I
+am," and Watson motioned for the centre fielder to take the cue. "I'll
+see what sort of a room we can give you," the manager went on. "Nothing
+like being comfortable. Did you have a good trip?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, indeed."</p>
+
+<p>"Contract satisfactory, and all that?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes. And, by the way, Mr. Watson, if it isn't asking too much I'd
+like to know how you came to hear of me and sign me up?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I had scouts all over last fall," said the manager with a smile.
+"One of them happened to see you early in the season, and then he saw
+the game you pitched against Clevefield, winning the pennant. You looked
+to him like the proper stuff, so I had you drafted to our club."</p>
+
+<p>"I hope you won't repent of your bargain," observed Joe, soberly.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I don't think I will, and yet baseball is pretty much of a chance
+game after all. I've often been fooled, I don't mind admitting. But,
+Matson, let me tell you one thing," and he spoke more earnestly, as they
+walked along a corridor to the lobby of the hotel. "You mustn't imagine
+that you're going in right off the reel and clean things up. You'll have
+to go a bit slow. I want to watch you, and I'll give you all the
+opportunity I can.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span>"But you must remember that I have several pitchers, and some of them
+are very good. They've been playing in the big leagues for years. You're
+a newcomer, and, unless I'm much mistaken, you'll have a bit of stage
+fright at first. That's to be expected, and I'm looking for it. I won't
+be disappointed if you fall down hard first along. But whatever else you
+do, don't get discouraged and&mdash;don't lose your nerve, above all else."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll try not to," promised Joe. But he made up his mind that he would
+surprise the manager and make a brilliant showing as soon as possible.
+Joe had several things to learn about baseball as it is played in the
+big leagues.</p>
+
+<p>"I guess I'll put you in with Rad Chase," said Manager Watson, as he
+looked over the page of the register, on which were the names of the
+team. "His room is a good one, and you'll like him. He's a young chap
+about your age."</p>
+
+<p>"Was he in there?" asked Joe, nodding toward the billiard room, where he
+had met several of the players.</p>
+
+<p>"No. I don't know where he is," went on the manager. "Is Rad out?" he
+asked of the clerk.</p>
+
+<p>That official, stroking his small blonde mustache, turned to look at the
+rack. From the peg of room 413 hung the key.</p>
+
+<p>"He's out," the clerk announced.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span>"Well, you might as well go up and make yourself at home," advised the
+manager. "I'll tell Rad you're quartered with him. Have his grip taken
+up," went on Mr. Watson to the clerk.</p>
+
+<p>"Front!" called the young man behind the desk, and when the same
+freckle-faced lad, who had pointed out to Joe the manager, came
+shuffling up, the lad took our hero's satchel, and did a little one-step
+glide with it toward the elevator.</p>
+
+<p>"Tanks," mumbled the same lad, as Joe slipped a dime into his palm, when
+the bellboy had opened the room door and set the grip on the floor by
+the bed. "Say, where do youse play?" he asked with the democratic
+freedom of the American youth.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I'm supposed to be a pitcher," said Joe.</p>
+
+<p>"Left?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, right."</p>
+
+<p>"Huh! It's about time the Cardinals got a guy with a right-hand
+delivery!" snorted the boy. "They've been tryin' southpaws and been
+beaten all over the lots. Got any speed?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, maybe a little," admitted Joe, smiling at the lad's
+ingenuousness.</p>
+
+<p>"Curves, of course?"</p>
+
+<p>"Some."</p>
+
+<p>"Dat's th' stuff! Say, I hopes you make<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span> good!" and the lad, spinning
+the dime in the air, deftly caught it, and slid out of the room.</p>
+
+<p>Joe looked after him. He was entering on a new life, and many emotions
+were in conflict within him. True, he had been at hotels before, for he
+had traveled much when he was in the Central League. But this time it
+was different. It seemed a new world to him&mdash;a new and big world&mdash;a much
+more important world.</p>
+
+<p>And he was to be a part of it. That was what counted most. He was in a
+Big League&mdash;a place of which he had often dreamed, but to which he had
+only aspired in his dreams. Now it was a reality.</p>
+
+<p>Joe unpacked his grip. His trunk check he had given to the clerk, who
+said he would send to the railroad station for the baggage. Then Joe
+changed his collar, put on a fresh tie, and went down in the elevator.
+He wanted to be among the players who were to be his companions for the
+coming months.</p>
+
+<p>Joe liked Rad Chase at once. In a way he was like Charlie Hall, but
+rather older, and with more knowledge of the world.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you play cards?" was Rad's question, after the formalities of
+introduction, Joe's roommate having come in shortly after our hero went
+down.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span>"Well, I can make a stab at whist, but I'm no wonder," confessed Joe.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you play Canfield solitaire?"</p>
+
+<p>"Never heard of it."</p>
+
+<p>"Shake hands!" cried Rad, and he seemed relieved.</p>
+
+<p>"Why?" asked Joe.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, the fellow I roomed with last year was a fiend at Canfield
+solitaire. He'd sit up until all hours of the morning, trying to make
+himself believe he wasn't cheating, and I lost ten pounds from not
+getting my proper sleep."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I'll promise not to keep you awake that way," said Joe with a
+laugh.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you snore?" Rad wanted next to know.</p>
+
+<p>"I never heard myself."</p>
+
+<p>Rad laughed.</p>
+
+<p>"I guess you'll do," he said. "We'll hit it off all right."</p>
+
+<p>Joe soon fell easily into the life at the big hotel. He met all the
+other players, and while some regarded him with jealous eyes, most of
+them welcomed him in their midst. Truth to tell, the St. Louis team was
+in a bad way, and the players, tired of being so far down on the list,
+were willing to make any sacrifices of professional feeling in order to
+be in line for honors, and a share in the pennant money, providing it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span>
+could be brought to pass that they reached the top of the list.</p>
+
+<p>Joe spent a week at the hotel while Manager Watson was arranging matters
+for the trip South. One or two players had not yet arrived, "dickers"
+being under way for their purchase.</p>
+
+<p>But finally the announcement was made that the start for the training
+camp, at Reedville, Alabama, would be made in three days.</p>
+
+<p>"And I'm glad of it!" cried Rad Chase, as he and Joe came back one
+evening from a moving picture show, and heard the news. "I'm tired of
+sitting around here doing nothing. I want to get a bat in my hands."</p>
+
+<p>"So do I," agreed Joe. "It sure will be great to get out on the grass
+again. Have you ever been in Reedville?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, but I hear it's a decent place. There's a good local team there
+that we brush up against, and two or three other teams in the vicinity.
+It'll be lively enough."</p>
+
+<p>"Where do you like to play?" asked Joe.</p>
+
+<p>"Third's my choice, but I hear I'm to be soaked in at short. I hate it,
+too, but Watson seems to think I fill in there pretty well."</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose a fellow has to play where he's considered best, whether he
+wants to or not," said Joe. "I hope I can pitch, but I may be sent out
+among the daisies for all that."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span>"Well, we've got a pretty good outfield as it is," went on Rad. "I
+guess, from what I hear, that you'll be tried out on the mound, anyhow.
+Whether you stick there or not will be up to you."</p>
+
+<p>"It sure is," agreed Joe.</p>
+
+<p>A box-party was given at the theatre by the manager for the players, to
+celebrate their departure for the South. The play was a musical comedy,
+and some of the better known players were made the butt of jokes by the
+performers on the stage.</p>
+
+<p>This delighted Joe, and he longed for the time when he would be thought
+worthy of such notice. The audience entered into the fun of the
+occasion, and when the chief comedian came out, and, in a witty address,
+presented Manager Watson with a diamond pin, and wished him all success
+for the coming season, there were cheers for the team.</p>
+
+<p>"Everybody stand up!" called Toe Barter, one of the veteran pitchers.
+"Seventh inning&mdash;everybody stretch!"</p>
+
+<p>The players in the two boxes arose to face the audience in the theatre,
+and there were more cheers. Joe was proud and happy that he was a part
+of it all.</p>
+
+<p>That night he wrote home, and also to Mabel, telling of his arrival in
+St. Louis, and all that had happened since.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span>"We leave for the South in the morning," he concluded.</p>
+
+<p>The departure of the players on the train was the occasion for another
+celebration and demonstration at the depot. A big crowd collected,
+several newspaper photographers took snapshots, and there were cheers
+and floral emblems.</p>
+
+<p>Joe wished his folks could have been present. Compared to the time when
+he had gone South to train for the Pittston team, this was a big
+occasion.</p>
+
+<p>A reporter from the most important St. Louis paper was to accompany the
+team as "staff correspondent," for St. Louis was, and always has been, a
+good "fan" town, and loyal to the ball teams.</p>
+
+<p>"All aboard!" called the conductor.</p>
+
+<p>There were final cheers, final good-byes, final hand-shakes, final
+wishes of good luck, and then the train pulled out. Joe and his
+teammates were on their way South.</p>
+
+<p>It was the start of the training season, and of what would take place
+between that and the closing Joe little dreamed.</p>
+
+<p class="con"><a href="#contents">Back to contents</a></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span><a name="XII" id="XII"></a>CHAPTER XII<br />
+<br />
+<small>THE QUARRELING MAN</small></h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Quite</span> a little family party it was the St. Louis players composed as
+they traveled South in their private car, for they enjoyed that
+distinction. This was something new for Joe, as the Pittston team was
+not blessed with a wealthy owner, and an ordinary Pullman had sufficed
+when Joe made his former trip. Now it was travel "de luxe."</p>
+
+<p>The more Joe saw of Rad Chase the more he liked the fellow, and the two
+soon became good friends, being much in each other's company, sharing
+the upper and lower berths by turns in their section, eating at the same
+table, and fraternizing generally.</p>
+
+<p>Some of the older players were accompanied by their wives, and after the
+first few hours of travel everyone seemed to know everyone else, and
+there was much talk and laughter.</p>
+
+<p>"Can't you fellows supply me with some dope?" asked a voice in the aisle
+beside the seats occupied by Joe and Rad. "I've gotten off all the
+departure stuff, and I want something for a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span> lead for to-morrow. Shoot
+me some new dope; will you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, hello, Jim!" greeted Rad, and then, as Joe showed that he did not
+recognize the speaker, the other player went on: "This is the
+<em>Dispatch-Times's</em> staff correspondent, Jim Dalrymple. You want to be
+nice to him, Joe, and he'll put your name and picture in the paper. Got
+anything you can give him for a story?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'm afraid not," laughed Joe.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, anything will do, as long as I can hang a lead on it," said
+Dalrymple hopefully. "If you've never tried to get up new stuff every
+day at a training camp of a ball team, you've no idea what a little
+thing it takes to make news. Now you don't either of you happen to have
+a romance about you; do you?" he inquired, pulling out a fold of copy
+paper. (Your real reporter never carries a note book. A bunch of paper,
+or the back of an envelope will do to jot down a few facts. The rest is
+written later from memory. Only stage reporters carry note books, and,
+of late they are getting "wise" and abstaining from it.)</p>
+
+<p>"A romance?" repeated Joe. "Far be it from me to conceal such a thing
+about my person."</p>
+
+<p>"But you <em>have</em> had rather a rapid rise in baseball; haven't you, Joe?"
+insinuated Rad. "You<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span> didn't have to wait long for promotion. Why not
+make up a yarn about that?" went on Rad, nodding at the reporter.</p>
+
+<p>"Sure I'll do it. Give me a few facts. Not too many," the newspaper man
+said with a whimsical smile. "I don't want to be tied down too hard. I
+like to let my fancy have free play."</p>
+
+<p>"He's all right," whispered Rad in an aside to Joe. "One of the best
+reporters going, and he always gives you a fair show. If you make an
+error he'll debit you with it, but when you play well he'll feature you.
+He's been South with the team a lot of times, I hear."</p>
+
+<p>"But I don't like to talk about myself," objected Joe.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't let that worry you!" laughed Rad. "Notoriety is what keeps
+baseball where it is to-day, and if it wasn't for the free advertising
+we get in the newspapers there would not be the attendance that brings
+in the dollars, and lets us travel in a private car. Don't be afraid of
+boosting yourself. The reporters will help you, and be glad to. They
+have to get the stuff, and often enough it's hard to do, especially at
+the training camp."</p>
+
+<p>In some way or other, Joe never knew exactly how, Dalrymple managed to
+get a story out of him, about how Joe had been drafted, how he had begun
+playing ball as a boy on the "sand<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span> lots," how he had pitched Yale to
+victory against Princeton, and a few other details, with which my
+readers are already familiar.</p>
+
+<p>"Say, this'll do first rate!" exulted the reporter, as he went to a
+secluded corner to write his story, which would be telegraphed back to
+his daily newspaper. "I'm glad I met you!" he laughed.</p>
+
+<p>Dalrymple was impartial, which is the great secret of a newspaper
+reporter's success. Though he gave Joe a good "show," he also "played
+up" some of the other members of the team. So that when copies of the
+paper were received later, they contained an account of Joe's progress,
+sandwiched in between a "yarn" of how the catcher had once worked in a
+boiler factory, where he learned to catch red-hot rivets, and how one of
+the outfielders had inherited a fortune, which he had dissipated, and
+then, reforming, had become a star player. So Joe had little chance to
+get a "swelled head," which is a bad thing for any of us.</p>
+
+<p>The first part of the journey South was made in record time, but after
+the private car was transferred to one of the smaller railroad lines
+there were delays that fretted the players.</p>
+
+<p>"What's the matter?" asked Manager Watson of the conductor as that
+official came through after a long stop at a water tank station, "won't<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span>
+the cow get off the track?" and he winked at the players gathered about
+him.</p>
+
+<p>"That joke's a hundred years old," retorted the ticket-taker. "Think up
+a new one! There's a freight wreck ahead of us, and we have to go slow."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, as long as we get there some time this week, it will be all
+right, I reckon," drawled the manager.</p>
+
+<p>Reedville was reached toward evening of the second day, and the
+travel-weary ball-tossers piled out of their coach to find themselves at
+the station of a typical Southern town.</p>
+
+<p>Laziness and restfulness were in the air, which was warm with the heat
+of the slowly setting sun. There was the odor of flowers. Colored men
+were all about, shuffling here and there, driving their slowly-ambling
+horses attached to rickety vehicles, or backing them up at the platform
+to get some of the passengers.</p>
+
+<p>"Majestic Hotel right this yeah way, suh! Right over yeah!" voiced the
+driver of a yellow stage. "Goin' right up, suh!"</p>
+
+<p>"That's our place, boys," announced the manager. "Pile in, and let me
+have your checks. I'll have the baggage sent up."</p>
+
+<p>Joe and the others took their place in the side-seated stage. A little
+later, the manager having arranged for the transportation of the
+trunks,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span> they were driven toward the hotel that was to be their
+headquarters while in the South.</p>
+
+<p>They were registering at the hotel desk, and making arrangements about
+who was to room with who, when Joe heard the hotel clerk call Mr. Watson
+aside.</p>
+
+<p>"He says he's with your party, suh," the clerk spoke. "He arrived
+yesterday, and wanted to be put on the same floor with your players.
+Says he's going to be a member of the team."</p>
+
+<p>"Huh! I guess someone is bluffing you!" exclaimed the manager. "I've got
+all my team with me. Who is the fellow, anyhow?"</p>
+
+<p>"That's his signature," went on the clerk, pointing to it on the hotel
+register.</p>
+
+<p>"Hum! Wessel; eh?" said Mr. Watson. "Never heard of him. Where is he?"</p>
+
+<p>"There he stands, over by the cigar counter."</p>
+
+<p>Joe, who had heard the talk, looked, and, to his surprise, he beheld the
+same individual who had tried to pick a quarrel with him the night of
+the sleigh ride.</p>
+
+<p class="con"><a href="#contents">Back to contents</a></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span><a name="XIII" id="XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII<br />
+<br />
+<small>UNDER SUNNY SKIES</small></h2>
+
+
+<p>"<span class="smcap">That</span> man!" exclaimed Mr. Watson, as he gave the stranger a quick
+glance. "No, I don't know him, and he certainly isn't a member of my
+team. He isn't going to be, either; as far as I know. I'm expecting some
+other recruits, but no one named Wessel."</p>
+
+<p>Joe said nothing. He was wondering if the man would recognize him, and,
+perhaps, renew that strange, baseless quarrel. And, to his surprise, the
+man did recognize him, but merely to bow. And then, to Joe's further
+surprise, the individual strolled over to where the manager and some of
+the players were standing, and began:</p>
+
+<p>"Is this Mr. Watson?"</p>
+
+<p>"That's my name&mdash;yes," but there was no cordiality in the tone.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I'm Isaac Wessel. I used to play short on the Rockpoint team in
+the Independent League. My contract has expired and I was wondering
+whether you couldn't sign me up."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span>"Nothing doing," replied Mr. Watson, tersely. "I have all the material I
+need."</p>
+
+<p>"I spoke to Mr. Johnson about it," naming one of the owners of the St.
+Louis team, "and he said to see you."</p>
+
+<p>"Did he tell you to tell me to put you on?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, I wouldn't go so far as to say that," was the hesitating reply.</p>
+
+<p>"And did he say I was to give you a try-out?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, he&mdash;er&mdash;said you could if you wanted to."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I <em>don't</em> want to," declared the manager with decision. "And I
+want to say that you went too far when you told the clerk here you
+belonged to my party. I don't know you, and I don't want anything to do
+with a man who acts that way," and Mr. Watson turned aside.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I didn't mean any harm," whined Wessel. "The&mdash;er&mdash;I&mdash;er&mdash;the
+clerk must have misunderstood me."</p>
+
+<p>"All right. Let it go at that," was all the answer he received.</p>
+
+<p>"Then you won't give me a chance?"</p>
+
+<p>"No."</p>
+
+<p>The man evidently realized that this was the end, for he, too, turned
+aside. As he did so he looked sneeringly at Joe, and mumbled:</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose you think you're the whole pitching staff now?"</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span>Joe did not take the trouble to answer. But, though he ignored the man,
+he could not help wondering what his plan was in coming to the training
+camp. Could there be a hidden object in it, partly covered by the
+fellow's plea that he wanted to get on the team?</p>
+
+<p>"Do you often have cases like that, Mr. Watson?" Joe asked the manager
+when he had a chance.</p>
+
+<p>"Like what, Matson?"</p>
+
+<p>"Like that Wessel."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, occasionally. But they don't often get as fresh as he did. The idea
+of a bush-leaguer thinking he could break into the majors like that. He
+sure had nerve! Well, now I hope we're all settled, and can get to work.
+We've struck good weather, anyhow."</p>
+
+<p>And indeed the change from winter to summer was little short of
+marvelous. They had come from the land of ice and snow to the warm
+beauty of sunny skies. There was a feeling of spring in the air, and the
+blood of every player tingled with life.</p>
+
+<p>"Say, it sure will be great to get out on the diamond and slam the ball
+about; won't it?" cried Joe to Rad Chase, as the two were unpacking in
+their hotel room.</p>
+
+<p>"That's what! How are you on stick work?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, no better than the average pitcher," replied<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span> Joe, modestly. "I had
+a record of .172 last season."</p>
+
+<p>"That's not so worse," observed Rad.</p>
+
+<p>"What's yours?" asked Joe.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, it runs around .250."</p>
+
+<p>"Good!" cried Joe. "I hope you get it up to .300 this year."</p>
+
+<p>"Not much chance of that. I was picked because I'm pretty good with the
+stick&mdash;a sort of pinch hitter. But then that's not being a star
+pitcher," he added, lest Joe feel badly at the contrast in their batting
+averages.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I'm far from being a star, but I'd like to be in that class.
+There's my best bat," and he held out his stick.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, you like that kind; eh?" spoke Rad. "Well, I'll show you what I
+favor," and then the two plunged into a talk that lasted until meal
+time.</p>
+
+<p>The arrival of the St. Louis team in the comparatively small town of
+Reedville was an event of importance. There was quite a crowd about the
+hotel, made up mostly of small boys, who wanted a chance to see the
+players about whom they had read so much.</p>
+
+<p>After the meal, as Joe, Rad and some of the others strolled out for a
+walk about the place, our hero caught murmurs from the crowd of lads
+about the entrance.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span>"There's 'Toe' Barter," one lad whispered, nodding toward a veteran
+pitcher.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, and that fellow walking with him is 'Slim' Cooney. He pitched a
+no-hit, no-run game last year."</p>
+
+<p>"Sure, I know it. And that fellow with the pipe in his mouth is 'Dots'
+McCann, the shortstop. He's a peach!"</p>
+
+<p>And so it went on. Joe's name was not mentioned by the admiring throng.</p>
+
+<p>"Our turn will come later," said Rad, with a smile.</p>
+
+<p>"I guess so," agreed his chum, somewhat dubiously.</p>
+
+<p>Reedville was a thriving community, and boasted of a good nine, with
+whom the St. Louis team expected to cross bats a number of times during
+the training season. Then, too, in nearby towns, were other teams, some
+of them semi-professional, who would be called on to sacrifice
+themselves that the Cardinals might have something to bring out their
+own strong and weak points.</p>
+
+<p>"Let's go over to the grounds," suggested Joe.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm with you," agreed Rad.</p>
+
+<p>"Say, you fellows won't be so anxious to head for the diamond a little
+later in the season," remarked "Doc" Mullin, one of the outfielders.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span>
+"You'll be only too glad to give it the pass-up; won't they?" he
+appealed to Roger Boswell, the trainer and assistant manager.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I like to see young fellows enthusiastic," said Boswell, who had
+been a star catcher in his day. But age, and an increasing deposit of
+fat, had put him out of the game. Now he coached the youngsters, and
+when "Muggins," as Mr. Watson was playfully called, was not on hand he
+managed the games from the bench. He was a star at that sort of thing.</p>
+
+<p>"Go to it, boys," he advised Joe and Rad, with a friendly nod. "You
+can't get too much baseball when you're young."</p>
+
+<p>The diamond at Reedville was nothing to boast of, but it would serve
+well enough for practice. And the grandstand was only a frail, wooden
+affair, nothing like the big one at Robison Field, in St. Louis.</p>
+
+<p>Joe and Rad walked about the field, and longed for the time when they
+would be out on it in uniform.</p>
+
+<p>"Which will be about to-morrow," spoke Rad, as Joe mentioned his desire.
+"We'll start in at light work, batting fungo and the like, limbering up
+our legs, and then we'll do hard work."</p>
+
+<p>"I guess so," agreed Joe.</p>
+
+<p>The weather could not have been better. The<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span> sun shone warmly from a
+blue sky, and there was a balmy spiciness to the southern wind.</p>
+
+<p>Rad and Joe walked about town, made a few purchases, and were turning
+back to the hotel when they saw "Cosey" Campbell, the third baseman,
+standing in front of a men's furnishing store.</p>
+
+<p>"I say, fellows, come here," he called to the two. They came. "Do you
+think that necktie is too bright for a fellow?" went on Campbell,
+pointing to a decidedly gaudy one in the show window.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, it depends on who's going to wear it," replied Rad, cautiously.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, I am, of course," was the surprised answer. "Who'd you s'pose?"</p>
+
+<p>"I didn't know but what you were buying it to use for a foul line flag,"
+chuckled Rad, for Campbell's weakness for scarfs was well known. He
+bought one or two new ones every day, and, often enough, grew
+dissatisfied with his purchase before he had worn it. Then he tried to
+sell it to some other member of the team, usually without success.</p>
+
+<p>"Huh! Foul flag!" grunted Campbell. "Guess you don't know a swell tie
+when you see it. I'm going to get it," he added rather desperately, as
+though afraid he would change his mind.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span>"Go ahead. We'll go in and see fair play," suggested Joe, with a smile.</p>
+
+<p>The tie was purchased, and the clerk, after selling the bright scarf,
+seeing that Campbell had a package in his hand, inquired:</p>
+
+<p>"Shall I wrap them both up together for you?"</p>
+
+<p>"If you don't mind," replied the third baseman. And, in tying up the
+bundle, the one Campbell had been carrying came open, disclosing three
+neckties more gaudy, if possible, than the one he had just purchased.</p>
+
+<p>"For the love of strikes!" cried Rad. "What are you going to do; start a
+store?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I just took a fancy to these in a window down street," replied
+Campbell easily. "Rather neat; don't you think?" and he held up a red
+and green one.</p>
+
+<p>"Neat! Say, they look like the danger signals in the New York subway!"
+cried Rad. "Shade your eyes, Joe, or you won't be able to see the ball
+to-morrow!"</p>
+
+<p>"That shows how much taste you fellows have," snapped Campbell. "Those
+are swell ties."</p>
+
+<p>But the next day Joe heard Campbell trying to dispose of some of the
+newly purchased scarfs to "Dots" McCann.</p>
+
+<p>"Go ahead, 'Dots,' take one," pleaded the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span> baseman. "You need a new tie,
+and I've got more than I want. This red and green one, now; it's real
+swell."</p>
+
+<p>"Go on!" cried the other player. "Why I'd hate to look at myself in a
+glass with that around my neck! And you'd better not wear it, either&mdash;at
+least, not around town."</p>
+
+<p>"Why not?" was the wondering answer.</p>
+
+<p>"Because you might scare some of the mules, and there'd be a runaway.
+Tie a stone around it, Campbell, and drown it. It makes so much noise I
+can't sleep," and with that McCann walked off, leaving behind him a very
+indignant teammate.</p>
+
+<p>That night notice was given that all the players would assemble at the
+baseball diamond in uniform next morning.</p>
+
+<p>"That's the idea!" cried Joe. "Now for some real work."</p>
+
+<p class="con"><a href="#contents">Back to contents</a></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span><a name="XIV" id="XIV"></a>CHAPTER XIV<br />
+<br />
+<small>HARD WORK</small></h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">The</span> rooms of the ball players were all in one part of the hotel, along
+the same hall. Joe and Rad were together, near the stairway going down.</p>
+
+<p>That night, their first in the training camp, there was considerable
+visiting to and fro among the members of the team, and some little
+horse-play, for, after all, the players were like big boys, in many
+respects.</p>
+
+<p>Rad, who had been in calling on some of his fellow players, came back to
+the room laughing.</p>
+
+<p>"What's up?" asked Joe, who was writing a letter.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Campbell is still trying to get rid of that hideous tie we helped
+him purchase. He wanted to wish it on to me."</p>
+
+<p>"And of course you took it," said Joe, with a smile.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course I did <em>not</em>. Well, I guess I'll turn in. We'll have plenty to
+do to-morrow."</p>
+
+<p>"That's right. I'll be with you as soon as I finish this letter."</p>
+
+<p>But Rad was sound asleep when Joe had finished<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span> his correspondence, and
+slipped downstairs to leave it at the desk for the early mail. Joe
+looked around the now almost deserted lobby, half expecting to see the
+strange man, Wessel, standing about. But he was not in sight.</p>
+
+<p>"I wonder what his game is, after all?" mused Joe. "I seem to have been
+running into two or three queer things lately. There's Shalleg, who
+bears me a grudge, though I don't see why he should, just because I
+couldn't lend him money, and then there's this fellow&mdash;I only hope the
+two of them don't go into partnership against me. I guess that's hardly
+likely to happen, though."</p>
+
+<p>But Joe little realized what was in store for him, and what danger he
+was to run from these same two men.</p>
+
+<p>Joe awakened suddenly, about midnight, by hearing someone moving around
+the room. He raised himself softly on his elbow, and peered about the
+apartment, for a dim light showed over the transom from the hall
+outside. To Joe's surprise the door, which he had locked from the inside
+before going to bed, now stood ajar.</p>
+
+<p>"I wonder if Rad can be sick, and have gone out?" Joe thought. "Maybe he
+walks in his sleep."</p>
+
+<p>He looked over toward his chum's bed, but could not make out whether or
+not Rad was under<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span> the covers. Then, as he heard someone moving about
+the apartment he called out:</p>
+
+<p>"That you, Rad?"</p>
+
+<p>Instantly the noise ceased, to be resumed a moment later, and Joe felt
+sure that someone, or something, went past the foot of his bed and out
+into the hall.</p>
+
+<p>"That you, Rad?" he called again.</p>
+
+<p>"What's that? Who? No, I'm here," answered the voice of his chum.
+"What's the matter?"</p>
+
+<p>Joe sprang out of bed, and in one bound reached the corridor. By means
+of the one dim electric lamp he saw, going down the stairs, carrying a
+grip with him, the mysterious man who had tried to quarrel with him. He
+was evidently taking "French leave," going out in the middle of the
+night to "jump" his hotel bill.</p>
+
+<p>"What's up?" asked Rad, as he, too, left his bed. "What is it, Joe?"</p>
+
+<p>The young pitcher came back into the room, and switched on a light. A
+quick glance about showed that neither his baggage, nor Rad's, had been
+taken.</p>
+
+<p>"It must have been his own grip he had," said Joe.</p>
+
+<p>"His? Who do you mean&mdash;what's up?" demanded Rad.</p>
+
+<p>"It was Wessel. He's sneaking out," remarked<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span> Joe in a low voice. "Shall
+we give the alarm?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, I guess not. We don't want to be mixed up in a row. And maybe he's
+going to take a midnight train. You can't tell."</p>
+
+<p>"I think he was in this room," went on Joe.</p>
+
+<p>"He was? Anything missing?"</p>
+
+<p>"Doesn't seem to be."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, then, don't make a row. Maybe he made a mistake."</p>
+
+<p>"He'd hardly unlock our door by mistake," declared Joe.</p>
+
+<p>"No, that's so. Did you see him in here?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, but I heard someone."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, it wouldn't be safe to make any cracks. Better not make a row, as
+long as nothing is gone."</p>
+
+<p>Joe decided to accept this advice, and went back to bed, after taking
+the precaution to put a chair-back under the knob, as well as locking
+it. It was some time before he got to sleep, however. But Rad was
+evidently not worried, for he was soon in peaceful slumber.</p>
+
+<p>Rad's theory that Wessel had gone out in the middle of the night to get
+a train was not borne out by the facts, for it became known in the
+morning that he had, as Joe suspected, "jumped" his board bill.</p>
+
+<p>"And he called himself a ball player!" exclaimed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span> Mr. Watson in disgust.
+"I'd like to meet with him again!"</p>
+
+<p>"Maybe you will," ventured Joe, but he did not know how soon his
+prediction was to come to pass.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, boys, we'll see how we shape up," said the manager, a little
+later that morning when the members of the team, with their uniforms on,
+had assembled at the ball park. "Get out there and warm up. Riordan, bat
+some fungoes for the boys. McCann, knock the grounders. Boswell, you
+catch for&mdash;let's see&mdash;I guess I'll wish you on to Matson. We'll see what
+sort of an arm he's got."</p>
+
+<p>Joe smiled, and his heart beat a trifle faster. It was his first trial
+with the big league, an unofficial and not very important trial, to be
+sure, but none the less momentous to him.</p>
+
+<p>Soon was heard the crack of balls as they bounded off the bats, to be
+followed by the thuds as they landed in the gloves of the players. The
+training work was under way.</p>
+
+<p>"What sort of ball do you pitch?" asked the old player pleasantly of
+Joe, as they moved off to a space by themselves for practice.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I've got an in, an out, a fadeaway and a spitter."</p>
+
+<p>"Quite a collection. How about a cross-fire?"</p>
+
+<p>"I can work it a little."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span>"That's good. Now let's see what you can do. But take it easy at first.
+You don't want to throw out any of your elbow tendons so early in the
+season."</p>
+
+<p>"I guess not," laughed Joe.</p>
+
+<p>Then he began to throw, bearing in mind the advice of the veteran
+assistant manager. The work was slow at first, and Joe found himself
+much stiffer than he expected. But the warm air, and the swinging of his
+arm, limbered him up a bit, and soon he was sending in some swift ones.</p>
+
+<p>"Go slow, son," warned Boswell. "You're not trying to win a game, you
+know. You're getting a little wild."</p>
+
+<p>Joe felt a bit chagrined, but he knew it was for his own good that the
+advice was given.</p>
+
+<p>Besides the pitching and batting practice, there was some running around
+the bases. But Manager Watson knew better than to keep the boys at it
+too long, and soon called the work off for the day.</p>
+
+<p>"We'll give it a little harder whack to-morrow," he said. And then Joe,
+as he went to the dressing rooms, overheard the manager ask Boswell:</p>
+
+<p>"What do you think of Matson?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, he's not such a wonder," was the not very encouraging reply. "But
+I've seen lots worse. He'll do to keep on your string, but he's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span> got a
+lot to learn. It's a question of what he'll do when he faces the big
+teams, and hears the crowd yelling: 'He's rotten! Take him out!' That's
+what's going to tell."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I suppose so. But I heard good reports of him&mdash;that gameness was
+one of his qualities."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, he'll need it all right," declared the veteran player.</p>
+
+<p>Then Joe passed on, not wanting to listen to any more. Truth to tell, he
+rather wished he had not heard that much. His pride was a little hurt.
+To give him credit, Joe had nothing like a "swelled head." He knew he
+had done good work in the Central League, and there, perhaps, he had
+been made more of than was actually good for him. Here he was to find
+that, relatively, he counted for little.</p>
+
+<p>A big team must have a number of pitchers, and not all of them can be
+"first string" men. Some must be kept to work against weak teams, to
+spare the stars for tight places. Joe realized this.</p>
+
+<p>"But if hard work will get me anywhere I'm going to arrive!" he said to
+himself, grimly, as the crowd of players went back to the hotel.</p>
+
+<p>The days that followed were given up to hard and constant practice. Each
+day brought a little more hard work, for the time was approaching<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span> when
+practice games must be played with the local teams, and it was necessary
+that the Cardinals make a good showing.</p>
+
+<p>Life in the training camp of a major league team was different than Joe
+had found it with the Pittstons. There was a more business-like tone to
+it, and more snap.</p>
+
+<p>The newspaper men found plenty of copy at first, in chronicling the
+doings of the big fellows, telling how this one was working up his
+pitching speed, or how that one was improving his batting. Then, too,
+the funny little incidents and happenings about the diamond and hotel
+were made as much of as possible.</p>
+
+<p>The various reporters had their own papers sent on to them, and soon, in
+some of these, notably the St. Louis publications, Joe began to find
+himself mentioned occasionally. These clippings he sent home to the
+folks. He wanted to send some to Mabel, but he was afraid she might
+think he was attaching too much importance to himself, so he refrained.</p>
+
+<p>Some of the reporters did not speak very highly of Joe's abilities, and
+others complimented him slightly. All of them intimated that some day he
+might amount to something, and then, again, he might not. Occasionally
+he was spoken of as a "promising youngster."</p>
+
+<p>It was rather faint praise, but it was better<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span> than none. And Joe
+steeled himself to go on in his own way, taking the well-intentioned
+advice of the other baseball players, Boswell in particular.</p>
+
+<p>Joe had other things besides hard work to contend against. This was the
+petty jealousy that always crops up in a high-tensioned ball team. There
+were three other chief pitchers on the nine, Toe Barter, Sam Willard and
+Slim Cooney. Slim and Toe were veterans, and the mainstays of the team,
+and Sam Willard was one of those chaps so often seen in baseball, a
+brilliant but erratic performer.</p>
+
+<p>Sometimes he would do excellently, and again he would "fall down"
+lamentably. And, for some reason, Sam became jealous of Joe. Perhaps he
+would have been jealous of any young pitcher who he thought might, in
+time, displace him. But he seemed to be particularly vindictive against
+Joe. It started one day in a little practice game, when Sam, after some
+particularly wild work, was replaced by our hero.</p>
+
+<p>"Huh! Now we'll see some real pitching," Sam sneered as he sulked away
+to the bench.</p>
+
+<p>Joe turned red, and was nervous as he took his place.</p>
+
+<p>Perhaps if Joe had made a fizzle of it Willard might have forgiven him,
+but Joe, after a few rather poor balls, tightened up and struck out
+several<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span> men neatly, though they were not star batters.</p>
+
+<p>"The Boy Wonder!" sneered Willard after the game. "Better order a cap a
+couple of sizes larger for him after this, Roger," he went on to the
+coach.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, dry up!" retorted Boswell, who had little liking for Willard.</p>
+
+<p>And so the hard work went on. The men, whitened by the indoor life of
+the winter, were beginning to take on a bronze tan. Muscles hardened and
+become more springy. Running legs improved. The pitchers were sending in
+swifter balls, Joe included. The fungo batters were sending up better
+flies. The training work was telling.</p>
+
+<p class="con"><a href="#contents">Back to contents</a></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span><a name="XV" id="XV"></a>CHAPTER XV<br />
+<br />
+<small>ANOTHER THREAT</small></h2>
+
+
+<p>"<span class="smcap">Play</span> ball!"</p>
+
+<p>"Batter up!"</p>
+
+<p>"Clang! Clang!"</p>
+
+<p>The old familiar cries, and the resonant sound of the starting gong,
+were heard at the Reedville diamond. It was the first real game of the
+season, and it was awaited anxiously, not only by the players, but by
+Manager Watson, the coach, and by the owners back home. For it would
+give a "line" on what St. Louis could do.</p>
+
+<p>Of course it was not a league contest, and the work, good, bad or
+indifferent, would not count in the averages. Joe hoped he would get a
+chance to pitch, at least part of the game, but he was not likely to,
+Boswell frankly told him, as it was desired to let Barter and Cooney
+have a fairly hard work-out on this occasion.</p>
+
+<p>"But your turn will come, son," said the coach, kindly. "Don't you fret.
+I think you're improving, and, to be frank with you, there's lots of
+room for it. But you've got grit, and that's what I like to see."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span>Reedville was a good baseball town, which was one of the reasons why
+Manager Watson had selected it as his training camp. The townspeople
+were ardent supporters of the home team, and they welcomed the advent of
+the big leaguers. In the vicinity were also other teams that played good
+ball.</p>
+
+<p>The bleachers and grandstand were well filled when the umpire gave his
+echoing cry of:</p>
+
+<p>"Play ball!"</p>
+
+<p>The ball-tossers had been warming up, both the Cardinals and the home
+team, which proved to be a husky aggregation of lads, with tremendous
+hitting abilities, provided they could connect with the ball. And that
+was just what the St. Louis pitchers hoped to prevent.</p>
+
+<p>"Willard, you can lead off," was the unexpected announcement of Mr.
+Watson, as he scanned his batting order. "McCann will catch for you. Now
+let's see what you can do."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll show 'em!" exclaimed the "grouchy" pitcher as he unbuttoned his
+glove from his belt. He had been warming up, and had come to the bench,
+donning a sweater, with no hope of being put in the game at the start
+off. But, unexpectedly, he had been called on.</p>
+
+<p>"Play ball!" cried the umpire again.</p>
+
+<p>Joe wished, with all his heart, that he was going in, but it was not to
+be.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span>In order to give the home team every possible advantage, they were to go
+to bat last. And there was some little wonder when the first St. Louis
+player faced the local pitcher. There were cries of encouragement from
+the crowd, for Robert Lee Randolph&mdash;the pitcher in question&mdash;had
+aspirations to the big league. He was a tall, lanky youth, and, as the
+Cardinal players soon discovered, had not much except speed in his box.
+But he certainly had speed, and that, with his ability, or inability, to
+throw wildly, made him a player to be feared as much as he was admired.</p>
+
+<p>He hit three players during the course of the game, and hit them hard.</p>
+
+<p>"If they can't beat us any other way they're going to cripple us," said
+Rad grimly to Joe, as they sat on the bench.</p>
+
+<p>"It does look that way; doesn't it?" agreed our hero.</p>
+
+<p>The game went on, and, as might have been expected, the St. Louis team
+did about as they pleased. No, that is hardly correct. Even a country
+aggregation of players can sometimes make the finest nine of
+professionals stand on its mettle. And, in this case, for a time, the
+contest was comparatively close.</p>
+
+<p>For Mr. Watson did not send in all his best players, and, from the fact
+that his men had not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span> been in a game since the former season closed,
+whereas the Reedville team had been at the game for two months or more,
+the disadvantage was not as great as it might have seemed.</p>
+
+<p>But there was one surprise. When Willard first went in he pitched
+brilliantly, and struck out the local players in good order, allowing
+only a few scattering hits.</p>
+
+<p>Then he suddenly went to pieces, and was severely pounded. Only
+excellent fielding saved him, for he was well backed-up by his fellow
+players.</p>
+
+<p>"Rexter will bat for you, Willard," said Manager Watson, when the inning
+was over. "Cooney, you go out and warm up."</p>
+
+<p>"What's the matter. Ain't I pitching all right?" angrily demanded the
+deposed one.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm sorry to say you're not. I'm not afraid of losing the game, but I
+don't want any more of this sort of stuff going back home," replied the
+manager, as he nodded over to where the newspaper reporters were
+chuckling among themselves over the comparatively poor exhibition the
+St. Louis Cardinals had so far put up.</p>
+
+<p>So Willard went to the bench, while crafty Cooney, with his left-hand
+delivery, went to warm up. And how Joe did wish <em>he</em> would get a chance!</p>
+
+<p>But he did not, and the game ended, as might<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span> have been expected, with
+the Cardinals snowing under their country opponents.</p>
+
+<p>Hard practice followed that first exhibition game, and there were some
+shifts among the players, for unexpected weakness, as well as strength
+had by this time developed in certain quarters.</p>
+
+<p>"I wonder when I'll get a chance to show what I can do?" spoke Joe to
+Rad, as they were on their way back to the hotel, after a second contest
+with Reedville, in which our hero had still stuck to the bench.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, it's bound to come," his chum told him. Personally, he was joyful,
+for he had been given a try-out, and had won the applause of the crowd
+by making a difficult play.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, it seems a long time," grumbled Joe, with a sigh.</p>
+
+<p>The practice became harder, as the opening of the season drew nearer.
+Some recruits joined the Cardinals at their training camp, and further
+shifts were made.</p>
+
+<p>Joe was finally given a chance to pitch against a team from Bottom
+Flats&mdash;a team, by the way, not as strong as the Reedville nine. And that
+Joe made good was little to his credit, as he himself knew.</p>
+
+<p>"I could have fanned them without any curves," he told Rad afterward.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span>"Well, it's good you didn't take any chances," his chum said. "You never
+can tell."</p>
+
+<p>Again came a contest with Reedville, but Joe was not called on. Toe
+Barter, who had gained his nickname from the queer habit he had of
+digging a hole for his left foot, before delivering the ball, opened the
+contest, and did so well that he was kept in until the game was "in the
+refrigerator." Then Joe was given his chance, but there was little
+incentive to try, with the Cardinals so far ahead.</p>
+
+<p>Nevertheless, our hero did his best, and to his delight, he knocked a
+two-bagger, sliding to second amid a cloud of dust, to be decided safe
+by the umpire, though there was a howl of protest from the "fans."</p>
+
+<p>The Cardinals won handily, and as Joe was walking to the club house with
+Rad, eagerly talking about the game, he saw, just ahead of him in the
+crowd of spectators a figure, at the sight of which he started.</p>
+
+<p>"That looks like Shalleg," he said, half aloud.</p>
+
+<p>"What's that?" asked Rad.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, nothing. I just thought I saw someone I knew. That is, I don't
+exactly know him, but&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>At that moment the man at whose back Joe had been looking turned
+suddenly, and, to our<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span> hero's surprise, it was Shalleg. The man, with an
+impudent grin on his face, spoke to a companion loudly enough for Joe to
+hear.</p>
+
+<p>"There's the fellow who wouldn't help me out!" Shalleg exclaimed. "He
+turned me down cold. Look at him."</p>
+
+<p>The other turned, and Joe's surprise was heightened when he saw Wessel,
+the man who had tried to quarrel with him, and who had "jumped" his bill
+at the hotel.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I know him all right," Wessel responded to Shalleg. "I've seen him
+before."</p>
+
+<p>Joe and Rad, with the two men, were comparatively alone now. The
+attitude and words of the fellows were so insulting that Joe almost made
+up his mind to defy them. But before he had a chance to do so Shalleg
+snapped out:</p>
+
+<p>"You want to look out for yourself, young man. I'll get you yet, and
+I'll get even with you for having me turned down. You want to look out.
+Bill Shalleg is a bad man to have for an enemy. Come on, Ike," and with
+that they turned away and were soon lost in the throng.</p>
+
+<p class="con"><a href="#contents">Back to contents</a></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span><a name="XVI" id="XVI"></a>CHAPTER XVI<br />
+<br />
+<small>JOE'S TRIUMPH</small></h2>
+
+
+<p>"<span class="smcap">Well</span>, what do you know about that?" cried Rad, with a queer look at
+Joe.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know what to think about it, and that's the truth," was the
+simple but puzzled answer.</p>
+
+<p>"But who are they&mdash;what do they mean? The idea of them threatening you
+that way! Why, that's against the law!"</p>
+
+<p>"Maybe it is," agreed Joe. "As for who those men are, you know Wessel,
+of course."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. The fellow who jumped his board bill at the hotel. Say, I guess
+the proprietor would like to see him. He has nerve coming back to this
+town. I've a good notion to tell the hotel clerk he's here. Mr. Watson
+would be glad to know it, too, for he takes it as a reflection on the
+team that Wessel should claim to be one of us, and then cheat the way he
+did."</p>
+
+<p>"Maybe it would be a good plan to tell on him," agreed Joe.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span>"And who's the other chap, and why did he threaten you?" his chum asked.</p>
+
+<p>"That's another queer thing," the young pitcher went on. "He's angry at
+me, as near as I can tell, because I had to refuse him a loan," and he
+detailed the circumstances of his meeting with Shalleg.</p>
+
+<p>"But it's odd that he and Wessel should be chumming together. I've said
+little about it, but I've been wondering for a long time why Wessel
+quarreled with me. I begin to see a light now. It must have been that
+Shalleg put him up to it."</p>
+
+<p>"A queer game," admitted Rad. "Well, I think I'll put the hotel
+proprietor wise to the fact that he can collect that board bill from Ike
+Wessel."</p>
+
+<p>But Joe and Rad found their plans unexpectedly changed when they went to
+put them into effect. They were a little late getting back to the hotel
+from the grounds, as Joe had some purchases to make. And, as the two
+chums entered the lobby, they saw standing by the desk the two men in
+question. Mr. Watson was addressing Shalleg in no uncertain tones.</p>
+
+<p>"No, I tell you!" he exclaimed. "I won't have you on the team, and this
+is the last time I'll tell you. And I don't want you hanging around,
+either. You don't do us any good."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span>"Is that your last word?" asked Shalleg, angrily.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, my last word. I want you to clear out and leave us alone."</p>
+
+<p>"Huh! I guess you can't keep me away from games!" sneered Shalleg. "This
+is a free country."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, you keep away from my club," warned Mr. Watson, with great
+firmness. "I wouldn't have you as a bat-tender."</p>
+
+<p>The flushed and ill-favored face of Shalleg grew more red, if that were
+possible, and he growled:</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, don't let that worry you. Some day you may be glad to send for me
+to help pull your old club out of the cellar. Someone has been talking
+about me, that's the trouble; and if I find out who it is I'll make 'em
+sweat for it!" and he glared at Joe, who was too amazed at the strange
+turn of affairs to speak.</p>
+
+<p>Then the two cronies turned and started out of the hotel lobby. But Rad
+was not going to be foiled so easily. He slipped over to the clerk and
+whispered:</p>
+
+<p>"Say, that's the fellow who jumped his board bill, you know," and he
+nodded at Wessel.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I know," the clerk replied. "He just came in to settle. He
+apologized, and said he had to leave in a hurry," and the clerk winked<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span>
+his eye to show how much belief he placed in the story.</p>
+
+<p>"Hum!" mused Rad. "That's rather queer. He must have wanted to square
+matters up so he could come back to town safely."</p>
+
+<p>"Looks so," returned the clerk.</p>
+
+<p>Joe talked the matter over with his roommate, as to whether or not it
+would be advisable to tell Mr. Watson how Shalleg had threatened the
+young pitcher, and also whether to speak about the queer actions of
+Wessel.</p>
+
+<p>"But I think, on the whole," concluded Joe, "that I won't say anything;
+at least not yet a while. The boss has troubles enough as it is."</p>
+
+<p>"I guess you're right," agreed Rad.</p>
+
+<p>"But what about him being in our room that night?" asked Joe. "I wonder
+if I hadn't better speak of that?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I don't know as I would," replied his chum. "In the first place, we
+can't be absolutely sure that it was he, though I guess you're pretty
+certain. Then, again, we didn't miss anything, and he could easily claim
+it was all a mistake&mdash;that he went in by accident&mdash;and we'd be laughed
+at for making such a charge."</p>
+
+<p>"Probably," agreed Joe. "As you say, I can't be dead sure, though I'm
+morally certain."</p>
+
+<p>"One of the porters might have opened our door by mistake," went on Rad.
+"You know the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span> hotel workers have pass-keys. Better let it drop." And
+they did. Joe, however, often wondered, in case Wessel had entered his
+room, what his object could have been. But it was not until some time
+later that he learned.</p>
+
+<p>Shalleg and his crony were not seen around the hotel again, nor, for
+that matter, at the ball grounds, either&mdash;at least during the next week.</p>
+
+<p>Practice went on as usual, only it grew harder and more exacting. Joe
+was made to pitch longer and longer each day, and, though he did not get
+a chance to play in many games, and then only unimportant ones, still he
+was not discouraged.</p>
+
+<p>There were many shifts among the out and infield staff, the manager
+trying different players in order to get the best results. The pitching
+staff remained unchanged, however. Some more recruits were received,
+some of them remaining after a gruelling try-out, and others "falling by
+the wayside."</p>
+
+<p>In addition to pitching balls for Boswell to catch, and doing some stick
+work, Joe was required to practice with the other catchers of the team.</p>
+
+<p>"I want you to get used to all of them, Matson," said the manager.
+"There's no telling, in this business, when I may have to call on my
+youngsters. I want you to be always ready."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll try," promised Joe, with a smile.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span>"You're coming on," observed Boswell, after a day of hard pitching,
+which had made Joe's arm ache. "You're coming on, youngster. I guess
+you're beginning to feel that working in a big league is different than
+in a minor; eh?"</p>
+
+<p>"It sure is!" admitted Joe, rubbing his aching muscles.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, you're getting more speed and better control," went on the
+veteran. "And you don't mind taking advice; that's what I like about
+you."</p>
+
+<p>"Indeed I'd be glad of any tips you could give me," responded Joe,
+earnestly.</p>
+
+<p>He did indeed realize that there was a hard road ahead of him, and he
+was a little apprehensive of the time when he might be called on to
+pitch against such a redoubtable team as the Giants.</p>
+
+<p>"Most folks think," went on Boswell, "that the chief advantage a pitcher
+has over a batter is his speed or his curves. Well, that isn't exactly
+so. The thing of it is that the batter has to guess whether the ball
+that's coming toward him is a swift straight one, or a comparatively
+slow curve. You see, he's got to make up his mind mighty quickly as to
+the speed of the horsehide, and he can't always do it.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, if a batter knew in advance just what the pitcher was going to
+deliver&mdash;whether a curve or a straight one, why that batter would<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span> have
+a cinch, so to speak. You may be the best twirler in the league, but you
+couldn't win your games if the batters knew what you were going to hand
+them&mdash;that is, knew in advance, I mean."</p>
+
+<p>"But that's what signals are for," exclaimed Joe. "I watch the catcher's
+signals, and if I think he's got the right idea I sign that I'll heave
+in what he's signalled for. If not, I'll make a switch."</p>
+
+<p>"Exactly," said the old player, "and that's what I'm coming to. If your
+signals are found out, where are you? Up in the air, so to speak. So you
+want to have several sets of signals, in order to change them in the
+middle of an inning if you find you're being double-crossed. There's
+lots of coaches who are fiends at getting next to the battery signs, and
+tipping them off to their batters. Then the batters know whether to step
+out to get a curve, or lay back to wallop a straight one. The signal
+business is more important than most players think."</p>
+
+<p>Joe believed this, and, at his suggestion, and on the advice of Boswell,
+a little later, a new signal system was devised between the pitchers and
+catchers. Joe worked hard to master it, for it was rather complicated.
+He wrote the system out, and studied it in his room nights.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, boys, a few weeks more and we'll be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span> going home for the opening
+of the season," said Mr. Watson in the hotel lobby one day. "I see the
+Boston Braves are about through training, the Phillies are said to be
+all primed, and the Giants are ready to eat up all the rest of us."</p>
+
+<p>"Whom do we open with?" asked Joe.</p>
+
+<p>"The Cincinnati Reds," answered the manager. "The exact date isn't set
+yet, but it will be around the last of April. We've got some hard games
+here yet. I'm going to play some exhibitions on the way up North, to
+break you in gradually."</p>
+
+<p>More hard work and practice, and the playing of several games with the
+Reedville and other local nines soon brought the time of departure
+nearer.</p>
+
+<p>"This is our last week," Mr. Watson finally announced. "And I'm going to
+put you boys up against a good stiff proposition. We'll play the Nipper
+team Saturday, and I want to warn you that there are some former big
+leaguers on it, who can still hit and run and pitch, though they're not
+qualified for the big circuit. So don't go to the grounds with the idea
+that it'll be a cinch. Play your best. Of course I know you will, and
+win; but don't fall down!"</p>
+
+<p>Joe hoped he would be called on to pitch, but when the game started,
+before the biggest crowd that had yet assembled at the Reedville
+grounds,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span> the umpire announced the Cardinal battery as Slim Cooney and
+Rob Russell.</p>
+
+<p>"Play ball!" came the signal, and the game was under way.</p>
+
+<p>To make the contest a little more even the St. Louis team were to bat
+first, giving the visitors the advantage of coming up last in the ninth
+inning.</p>
+
+<p>"Doolin up!" called the score keeper, and the lanky left-handed hitter
+strolled up to the plate, while Riordan, who was on deck, took up a
+couple of bats, swinging them about nervously to limber his arms.</p>
+
+<p>"Strike one!" bawled the umpire, at the first delivery of the visiting
+pitcher.</p>
+
+<p>Doolin turned with a look of disgust and stared at the arbiter, but said
+nothing. There was an exchange of signals between catcher and pitcher,
+and Joe watched to see if he could read them. But he could not.</p>
+
+<p>"Ball," was the next decision, and this time the pitcher looked pained.</p>
+
+<p>It got to be three and two, and the St. Louis team became rather
+interested.</p>
+
+<p>Doolin swung at the next with vicious force&mdash;and missed.</p>
+
+<p>"Strike three&mdash;batter's out!" announced the umpire, as the ball landed
+with a thud in the deep pit of the catcher's mitt.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span>Doolin threw down his bat hard.</p>
+
+<p>"What's he got?" whispered Riordan, as he went forward.</p>
+
+<p>"Aw, nothing so much! This light bothers me, or I'd have hit for a
+three-sacker, believe me!"</p>
+
+<p>Riordan smiled, but he did little better. He hit, but the next man flied
+out. Rad was up next and hit a twisting grounder that just managed to
+evade the shortstop, putting Rad on first and advancing Riordan.</p>
+
+<p>But that was the end. The next man was neatly struck out, and a
+goose-egg went up in St. Louis's frame.</p>
+
+<p>"Got to get 'em, boys," announced the manager grimly, as the team went
+to the field.</p>
+
+<p>Cooney did not allow a hit that inning, but he was pounded for two when
+he was on the mound again, St. Louis in the meanwhile managing to get a
+run, through an error.</p>
+
+<p>"Say, this is some little team," declared Boswell admiringly.</p>
+
+<p>"I told you they were," replied the manager. "I want to see our boys
+work."</p>
+
+<p>And work they had to.</p>
+
+<p>The best pitcher in the world has his off days, and the best pitcher in
+the world may occasionally be pounded, as Slim Cooney was hit that day.
+How it happened no one could say, but the Nippers<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span> began to slide ahead,
+chiefly through hard hitting and excellent pitching.</p>
+
+<p>"This won't do," said Manager Watson as the sixth inning saw the score
+tied. "Matson, go out and warm up. I'm going to see what you can do. I'm
+taking a chance, maybe; but I'll risk it."</p>
+
+<p>Joe's heart beat fast. Here was his chance. Willard, who sat near him on
+the bench, muttered angrily under his breath.</p>
+
+<p>"If I can only do something!" thought Joe, anxiously.</p>
+
+<p class="con"><a href="#contents">Back to contents</a></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span><a name="XVII" id="XVII"></a>CHAPTER XVII<br />
+<br />
+<small>"PLAY BALL!"</small></h2>
+
+
+<p>"<span class="smcap">Come</span> on, Joe, I'll catch for you," good-naturedly offered Doc Mullin,
+who had been "warming" the bench, Russell being behind the bat. "That'll
+give Rob a chance to rest, and he can take you on just before we go
+out."</p>
+
+<p>"Thanks," replied the young pitcher, and, flushing with pleasure, in
+this his triumph, though it was but a small one, he went out to the
+"bull-pen," to get some practice.</p>
+
+<p>"Huh! He'll make a fine show of us!" sneered Willard.</p>
+
+<p>"He can't make a much worse show than we've made of ourselves already,"
+put in Cooney quickly. "I sure am off my feed to-day. I don't know what
+makes it."</p>
+
+<p>"Trained a little too fine, I guess," spoke the manager. "We'll take it
+a bit easy after this."</p>
+
+<p>"Speed 'em in, Joe. Vary your delivery, and don't forget the signals,"
+advised Mullin, as the two were warming up. "And don't get nervous.
+You'll do all right."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm sure I hope so," responded Joe.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span>He was getting more confidence in himself, but at that, when he stood on
+the mound, and had the ball in his hand he could not help a little
+twinge of "stage fright," or something akin to it.</p>
+
+<p>The batter stepped back, to allow the usual interchange of balls between
+pitcher and catcher, and then, when Joe nodded that he was ready, moved
+up to the plate, where he stood, swinging his bat, and waiting for the
+first one.</p>
+
+<p>The catcher, Russell, signalled for a swift, straight one, and, though
+Joe would rather have pitched his fadeaway, he nodded his head to show
+that he accepted.</p>
+
+<p>The ball whizzed from Joe's hand, and he felt a wave of apprehension, a
+second later, that it was going to be slammed somewhere out over the
+centre field fence. But, to his chagrin, he heard the umpire call:</p>
+
+<p>"Ball one!"</p>
+
+<p>The batter grinned cheerfully at Joe.</p>
+
+<p>"That won't happen again!" thought our hero fiercely.</p>
+
+<p>This time the catcher signalled for a teasing curve, and again Joe
+signified that he would deliver it. He did, and successfully, too. The
+batter made a half motion, as though he were going to strike at it, and
+then refrained, but the umpire called, in tones that were musical to
+Joe's ear:</p>
+
+<p>"Strike&mdash;one!"</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span>"He's feedin' 'em to 'em!" joyfully exclaimed Boswell to the manager.
+"Joe's feedin' 'em in, all right."</p>
+
+<p>"Too early to judge," replied the cautious manager. "Wait a bit."</p>
+
+<p>But Joe struck out his man, and a little applause came from his fellow
+players on the bench.</p>
+
+<p>"That's the way to do it, boy!"</p>
+
+<p>"Tease 'em along!"</p>
+
+<p>"We only need two more!"</p>
+
+<p>Thus they called encouragingly to him.</p>
+
+<p>Joe was hit once that half of the inning, and no runs came in. The score
+was still tie.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, boys, we've got to bat!" said the manager when his team came in.
+"We need three or four runs, or this game will make us ashamed to go
+back to St. Louis."</p>
+
+<p>There was a noticeable improvement as the Cardinals went to bat. Tom
+Dugan slammed out one that was good for three bases, and Dots McCann, by
+a double, brought in the needed run. The St. Louis boys were themselves
+again. The fact that the visiting pitcher was "going to pieces" rather
+helped, too.</p>
+
+<p>The Cardinals were two runs to the good when the inning ended.</p>
+
+<p>"Now we want to hold them there. It's up to you, Joe, and the rest of
+you boys!" exclaimed Mr. Watson as the leaguers again took the field.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span>Joe had more confidence in himself now, though it oozed away somewhat
+when the first man up struck the ball savagely. But it was only a foul,
+and, though Russell tried desperately to get it, he could not.</p>
+
+<p>It was a case of three and two again, and Joe's nerves were tingling.</p>
+
+<p>"Hit it now, Red!" the friends of the visiting player besought him.
+"Bang it right on the nose!"</p>
+
+<p>"He hasn't anything on you!"</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing but a slow out!"</p>
+
+<p>"Slam out a home run!"</p>
+
+<p>There was a riot of cries.</p>
+
+<p>Joe calmed himself by an effort, and then sent in his fadeaway. It
+completely fooled the batter, who struck at it so hard that he swung
+around in a circle.</p>
+
+<p>"You're out!" called the umpire. Joe's heart beat with pride.</p>
+
+<p>But I must not dwell too long on that comparatively unimportant game, as
+I have other, and bigger ones, of which to write. Sufficient to say
+that, though there were a few scattering hits made off Joe, the visitors
+did not get another run, though they tried desperately in the last half
+of the ninth.</p>
+
+<p>But it was not to be, and St. Louis had the game by a good margin.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span>"That's fine work, boys!" the manager greeted them. "Matson, you're
+coming on. I won't promise to pitch you against the Giants this season,
+unless all my other pitchers get 'Charlie-horse,'" he went on, "but I'll
+say I like your work."</p>
+
+<p>"Thanks!" murmured Joe, his heart warming to the praise.</p>
+
+<p>"Congratulations, old man!" cried Rad, as they went to the dressing
+rooms together. "You did yourself proud!"</p>
+
+<p>"I'm glad you think so. I wonder what sort of a story it will be when I
+go up against a big league team?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, you'll go up against 'em all right!" predicted his chum, "and
+you'll win, too!"</p>
+
+<p>Preparations for leaving Reedville were made. The training was over;
+hard work was now ahead for all. Nothing more was seen of Shalleg and
+Wessel, though they might have been at that last game, for all Joe knew.</p>
+
+<p>In order not to tire his players by a long jump home, especially as they
+were not to open at once on Robison Field, Manager Watson planned
+several exhibition games to be played in various cities and towns on the
+way.</p>
+
+<p>Thus the journey would occupy a couple of weeks.</p>
+
+<p>The players were on edge now, a little rest<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span> from the Nipper game having
+put them in fine trim.</p>
+
+<p>"They're ready for Giants!" energetically declared Boswell, who took
+great pride in his training work.</p>
+
+<p>"Hardly that," replied the manager, "but I think we can take care of the
+Cincinnati Reds when we stack up against them on opening day."</p>
+
+<p>The journey North was enjoyed by all, and some good games took place.
+One or two were a little close for comfort, but the Cardinals managed to
+pull out in time. Joe did some pitching, though he was not worked as
+often as he would have liked. But he realized that he was a raw recruit,
+in the company of many veterans, and he was willing to bide his time.</p>
+
+<p>Joe had learned more about baseball since getting into the big league
+than he ever imagined possible. He realized, as never before, what a
+really big business it was, involving, as it did, millions of dollars,
+and furnishing employment to thousands of players, besides giving
+enjoyment to millions of spectators.</p>
+
+<p>The home-coming of the Cardinals, from their trip up from the South, was
+an event of interest.</p>
+
+<p>St. Louis always did make much of her ball teams, and though the
+American Brown nine had arrived a day or so before our friends, and had
+been noisily welcomed, there was a no less enthusiastic<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span> reception for
+the Cardinals. There was a band, a cheering throng at the station, and
+any number of reporters, moving picture men and newspaper photographers.</p>
+
+<p>"Say, it's great; isn't it?" cried Joe to Rad.</p>
+
+<p>"It sure is, old man!"</p>
+
+<p>Joe wrote home an enthusiastic account of it all, and also penned a note
+to Mabel, expressing the hope that she and her brother would get to St.
+Louis on the occasion of some big game.</p>
+
+<p>"And I hope I pitch in it," Joe penned.</p>
+
+<p>A day of rest, then a week of practice on their own grounds, brought the
+opening date nearer for St. Louis. Joe and the other players went out to
+the park the morning of the opening day of the season. The grounds were
+in perfect shape, and the weather man was on his good behavior.</p>
+
+<p>"What kind of ball have the Reds been playing?" asked Joe of Rad, who
+was a "fiend" on baseball statistics.</p>
+
+<p>"Snappy," was the answer. "We'll have our work cut out for us!"</p>
+
+<p>"Think we can do 'em?"</p>
+
+<p>"Nobody can tell. I know we're going to try hard."</p>
+
+<p>"If I could only pitch!" murmured Joe.</p>
+
+<p>The grandstand was rapidly filling. The bleachers were already
+overflowing. The teams<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span> had marched out on the field, preceded by a
+blaring band. There had been a presentation of a floral horseshoe to
+Manager Watson.</p>
+
+<p>Then came some fast, snappy practice on both sides. Joe, who had only a
+faint hope of being called on, warmed up well. He took his turn at
+batting and catching, too.</p>
+
+<p>"They look to be a fast lot," observed Joe to Rad, as they watched the
+Reds at work.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes, they're there with the goods."</p>
+
+<p>The game was called, and, as is often done, a city official pitched the
+first ball. This time it was the mayor, who made a wild throw. There was
+laughter, and cheers, the band blared out, and then the umpire called:</p>
+
+<p>"Play ball!"</p>
+
+<p class="con"><a href="#contents">Back to contents</a></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span><a name="XVIII" id="XVIII"></a>CHAPTER XVIII<br />
+<br />
+<small>HOT WORDS</small></h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">That</span> opening game, between the St. Louis Cardinals and the Cincinnati
+Reds, was not remarkable for good playing. Few opening games are, for
+the teams have not that fierce rivalry that develops later in the
+pennant season, and, though both try hard to win, they are not keyed up
+to the pitch that makes for a brilliant exhibition.</p>
+
+<p>So that opening game was neither better nor worse than hundreds of
+others. But, as we have to deal mostly with Baseball Joe in this book, I
+will centre my attention on him.</p>
+
+<p>His feelings, as he watched his fellow players in the field, the pitcher
+on the mound, and the catcher, girded like some ancient knight, may well
+be imagined. I fancy my readers, even if they are not baseball players,
+have been in much the same situation.</p>
+
+<p>Joe sat on the bench, "eating his heart out," and longing for the chance
+that he had small hopes would come to him. How he wished to get up
+there, and show what he could do, only he realized.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span>But it was not to be.</p>
+
+<p>Manager Watson's Cardinals went into the game with a rush, and had three
+runs safely stowed away in the ice box the first inning, after having
+gracefully allowed the Reds to score a goose egg.</p>
+
+<p>Then came an uninteresting period, with both pitchers working their
+heads off, and nothing but ciphers going up on the score board.</p>
+
+<p>"By Jove, old man, do you think we'll win?" asked Cosey Campbell, as he
+came to the bench after ingloriously striking out, and looked at Joe.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't see why we shouldn't," responded Joe. "We've got 'em going."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I know, but you never can tell when we may strike a slump."</p>
+
+<p>"You seem terribly worried," laughed Joe. "Have you wagered a new
+necktie on the result?"</p>
+
+<p>"No," he answered, "but I am anxious. You see, Matson, there's a girl&mdash;I
+could point her out to you in one of the boxes; but maybe she wouldn't
+like it," he said, craning his neck and going out from under the shelter
+of the players' bench and looking at the crowd in the grandstand.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, that's all right, I'll take your word for it," said Joe, for he
+appreciated the other's feelings.</p>
+
+<p>"A girl, you understand, Matson. She's here<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span> to see the game," went on
+Campbell. "I sent her tickets, and I told her we were sure to win. She's
+here, and I'm going to take her out to supper to-night. I've got the
+stunningest tie&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>He fumbled in his pocket.</p>
+
+<p>"Thought I had a sample of it here with me," he said. "But I haven't.
+It's sort of purple&mdash;plum color&mdash;with a shooting of gold, and it
+shimmers down into a tango shade. It's a peach! I was going to wear it
+to-night, but, if we don't win&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>His face showed his misery.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, cut it out!" advised Rad, coming up behind him. "We can't lose.
+Don't get mushy over an old tie."</p>
+
+<p>"It isn't an old tie!" stormed Campbell. "It's a new one I had made to
+order. Cost me five bones, too. It's a peach!"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, you'll wear it, all right," said Joe with a laugh. "I don't see
+how we can lose."</p>
+
+<p>The Cardinals were near it, though, in the seventh inning, when, with
+only one out, and three on bases, Slim Cooney was called on to face one
+of the hardest propositions in baseball.</p>
+
+<p>But he made good, and not a man crossed home plate.</p>
+
+<p>And so the game went on, now and then a bit of sensational fielding, or
+a pitcher tightening up in a critical place, setting the crowd to
+howling.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span>It was nearing the close of the contest. It looked like the Cardinals,
+for they were three runs to the good, and it was the ending of the
+eighth inning. Only phenomenal playing, at this stage, could bring the
+Reds in a winner.</p>
+
+<p>Some of the crowd, anticipating the event, were already leaving,
+probably to catch trains, or to motor to some resort.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, it's a good start-off," said Rad to Joe, as he started out to the
+field, for the beginning of the ninth.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, but it isn't cinched yet."</p>
+
+<p>"It will be soon."</p>
+
+<p>The Reds were at bat, and Joe, vainly wishing that he had had a chance
+to show what he could do, pulled his sweater more closely about him, for
+the day was growing cool.</p>
+
+<p>Then Batonby, one of the reserve players, strolled up to him.</p>
+
+<p>"You didn't get in, either," he observed, sitting down.</p>
+
+<p>"No. Nor you."</p>
+
+<p>"But I've been half-promised a chance in the next game. Say, it's fierce
+to sit it out; isn't it?"</p>
+
+<p>"It sure is."</p>
+
+<p>"Hear of any new players coming to us?" Batonby wanted to know.</p>
+
+<p>"Haven't heard," said Joe.</p>
+
+<p>The game was over. The Cardinals did not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span> go to bat to end the last
+inning, having the game by a margin of three runs.</p>
+
+<p>The players walked across the field to the clubhouse, the spectators
+mingling with them.</p>
+
+<p>"Did you hear anything about a fellow named Shalleg, who used to play in
+the Central League, coming to us?" asked Batonby, as he caught up to Joe
+and Rad, who had walked on ahead.</p>
+
+<p>"No," answered Joe quickly. "That is, I have heard of him, but I'm
+pretty sure he isn't coming with us."</p>
+
+<p>"What makes you think so?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why, I heard Mr. Watson tell him&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Say, if I hear you retailing any more stuff about me I'll take means to
+make you stop!" cried an angry voice behind Joe, and, wheeling around,
+he beheld the inflamed face of Shalleg, the man in question.</p>
+
+<p>"I've heard enough of your talk about me!" the released player went on.
+"Now it's got to quit. I won't have it! Cut it out! I'll settle with
+you, Matson, if I hear any more out of you," and he shook his fist
+angrily at Joe.</p>
+
+<p class="con"><a href="#contents">Back to contents</a></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span><a name="XIX" id="XIX"></a>CHAPTER XIX<br />
+<br />
+<small>JOE GOES IN</small></h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Batonby</span> looked wonderingly, first at Joe, and then at Shalleg. The
+latter's crony did not seem to be with him.</p>
+
+<p>"What's the row, old top?" asked Batonby easily. "Who are you, anyhow,
+and what's riled you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Never you mind what's riled me! You'll find out soon enough," was the
+sharp answer. "I heard you two chaps talking about me, and I want it
+stopped!"</p>
+
+<p>"Guess you're a little off, sport. I wasn't talking about you, for I
+haven't the doubtful honor of your acquaintance."</p>
+
+<p>"None of your impudence!" burst out Shalleg. Joe had not yet spoken.</p>
+
+<p>"And I don't want any of yours," fired back Batonby, slapping his glove
+from one hand to the other. "I say I wasn't talking about you!"</p>
+
+<p>"I say you were. My name is Shalleg!"</p>
+
+<p>Batonby let out a whistle of surprise.</p>
+
+<p>"Is that the one?" he asked of Joe.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span>The latter nodded.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, all I've got to say," went on Batonby, "is that I hope you don't
+get on our team. And, for your information," he went on, as he saw that
+Shalleg was fairly bursting with passion, "I'll add that all I said
+about you was that I heard you were trying to get on the Cardinals. As
+for Matson, he said even less about you."</p>
+
+<p>"That's all right, but you fellows want to look out," mumbled Shalleg,
+who seemed nonplused on finding that he had no good grounds for a
+quarrel.</p>
+
+<p>"And I want to add," broke in Joe, who felt that he had a right to say
+something in his own behalf, "I want to add that I'm about through with
+hearing threats from you, Mr. Shalleg," and he accented the prefix. "I
+haven't said anything against you, and I don't expect to, unless you
+give me cause. You've been following me about, making unjustified
+remarks, and it's got to stop!"</p>
+
+<p>"Hurray!" cried Batonby. "That's the kind of mustard to give him. Heave
+at it again, Joe!"</p>
+
+<p>The young pitcher stood facing his enemy fearlessly, but he had said
+enough. Shalleg growled out:</p>
+
+<p>"Well, somebody's been talking about me to the manager, giving me a bad
+name, and it's got to stop. If I find out who did it, he'll wish he
+hadn't," and he glared vindictively at Joe.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span>"I guess his own actions have given him the bad name," remarked Batonby,
+as the dismissed player turned aside and walked off to join the throng
+that had surged away from the little group.</p>
+
+<p>"That's about it," agreed Joe, as Rad came up and joined them. "Good
+work, old man!" said our hero, for Rad had done well.</p>
+
+<p>"I came mighty near making an error, though, toward the last," Rad
+responded. "Guess I'm not used to such strenuous life as playing nine
+innings in a big game. My heart was in my throat when I saw that fly
+ball coming toward me."</p>
+
+<p>"But you froze on to it," said Batonby.</p>
+
+<p>"Hello, what's up?" asked Rad quickly, for Joe's face still showed the
+emotion he felt at the encounter with Shalleg. "Had a row?" asked Rad.</p>
+
+<p>"Rather," admitted the young pitcher. "Shalleg was on deck again."</p>
+
+<p>"Say, that fellow, and his side partner, Wessel, ought to be put away
+during the ball season!" burst out Rad. "They're regular pests!"</p>
+
+<p>Joe heartily agreed with him, as he related the circumstances of the
+last affair. Then the friends passed on to the clubhouse, where the game
+was played over again, as usual, a "post-mortem" being held on it. Only,
+in this case the Cardinals,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span> being winners, had no excuses to make for
+poor playing. They were jubilant over the auspicious manner in which the
+season had opened.</p>
+
+<p>"Boys. I'm proud of you!" exclaimed Manager Watson as he strolled
+through. "Do this often enough, and we'll have that pennant sure."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, a fat chance we have!" muttered Willard, sulkily.</p>
+
+<p>"That's no way for a member of the team to talk!" snapped "Muggins."</p>
+
+<p>Willard did not reply. It was clear that he was disgruntled because he
+had not had a chance to pitch.</p>
+
+<p>Then the splashing of the shower baths drowned other talk, and presently
+the players, fresh and shining from their ablutions, strolled out of the
+clubhouse.</p>
+
+<p>"Got anything on to-night?" asked Rad of Joe, as they reached the hotel.</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing special&mdash;why?"</p>
+
+<p>"Let's go down to the Delaware Garden, and hear the Hungarian orchestra.
+There's good eating there, too."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm with you. Got to write a letter, though."</p>
+
+<p>"Tell her how the game went, I s'pose?" laughed Rad.</p>
+
+<p>"Something like that," agreed Joe, smiling.</p>
+
+<p>He bought an evening paper, which made a specialty of sporting news. It
+contained an account<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span> of the opening game, with a skeletonized outline
+of the plays, inning by inning. The Cardinals were properly
+congratulated for winning. Joe wished he could have read his name in the
+story, but he felt he could bide his time.</p>
+
+<p>Joe and Rad enjoyed their little excursion to the Delaware Garden that
+evening, returning to the hotel in good season to get plenty of sleep,
+for they were to play the Reds again the next day. There were four games
+scheduled, and then the Cardinals would go out on the circuit, remaining
+away about three weeks before coming back for a series on Robison Field.</p>
+
+<p>The tables were turned in the next game. The Cincinnati team, stinging
+from their previous defeat, played strong ball. They sent in a new
+pitcher, and with a lead of three runs early in the contest it began to
+look bad for the Cardinals.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll get no chance to-day," reasoned Joe, as he saw a puzzled frown on
+Mr. Watson's face. Joe knew that only a veteran would be relied on to do
+battle now, and he was right.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Watson used all his ingenuity to save the game. He put in pinch
+hitters, and urged his three pitchers to do their best.</p>
+
+<p>Willard was allowed to open the game, but was taken out after the first
+inning, so fiercely was he pounded. Cooney and Barter had been warming
+up, and the latter went in next.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span>"You go warm up, too, Matson," directed Boswell, "though it's doubtful
+if we'll have to use you."</p>
+
+<p>Joe hoped they would, but it was only a faint hope.</p>
+
+<p>Barter did a little better, but the Reds had a batting streak on that
+day, and found his most puzzling curves and drops. Then, too, working
+the "hit and run" feature to the limit and stealing bases, which in
+several cases was made possible by errors on the part of the Cardinals,
+soon gave the Reds a comfortable lead of five runs.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm afraid they've got us," grumbled the manager, as he substituted a
+batter to enable Cooney to go in the game. "You've got to pull us out,
+Slim," he added.</p>
+
+<p>Slim grinned easily, not a whit disconcerted, for he was a veteran. But
+though he stopped the winning streak of the Reds, he could not make
+runs, and runs are what win ball games.</p>
+
+<p>With his best nine in the field the manager tried hard to overcome the
+advantage of his opponents. It looked a little hopeful in the eighth
+inning, when there were two men on bases, second and third, and only one
+out, with "Slugger" Nottingham at the plate.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, then, a home run, old man!" pleaded the crowd.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span>"Soak it on the nose!"</p>
+
+<p>"Over the fence!"</p>
+
+<p>"A home run means three tallies, old man. Do it now!"</p>
+
+<p>Nottingham stood easily at the plate, swinging his bat. There was an
+interchange of signals between catcher and pitcher&mdash;a slight difference
+of opinion, it seemed. Then the ball was thrown.</p>
+
+<p>There was a resounding crack, and the crowd started to yell.</p>
+
+<p>"Go it, old man, go it!"</p>
+
+<p>"That's the pie!"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, that's a beaut!"</p>
+
+<p>But it was not. It was a nice little fly, to be sure, but the centre
+fielder, running in, had it safely before the batter reached first.
+Then, with Nottingham out, the ball was hurled home to nip the runner at
+the plate.</p>
+
+<p>Dugan, who had started in from third, ran desperately, and slid in a
+cloud of dust.</p>
+
+<p>"You're out!" howled the umpire, waving him to the bench.</p>
+
+<p>"He never touched me!" retorted Dugan. "I was safe by a mile!"</p>
+
+<p>"Robber!" shrieked the throng in the bleachers.</p>
+
+<p>"Get a pair of glasses!"</p>
+
+<p>"He was never out!"</p>
+
+<p>The umpire listened indifferently to the tirade.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span> Dugan dusted off his
+uniform, and, losing his temper, shook his fist at the umpire, sneering:</p>
+
+<p>"You big fat&mdash;&mdash;" and the rest of it does not matter.</p>
+
+<p>"That'll cost you just twenty-five dollars, and you can go to the
+clubhouse," said the umpire, coolly.</p>
+
+<p>Dugan's face fell, and Manager Watson flushed. He bit his lips to keep
+from making a retort. But, after all, the umpire was clearly within his
+rights.</p>
+
+<p>In silence Dugan left the field, and the Reds, who were jubilant over
+the double play, came in from the diamond.</p>
+
+<p>"The fat's in the fire now, for sure," sighed Rad, "with Dugan out of
+the game. Hang it all, anyhow!"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, we can't win every time," and Joe tried to speak cheerfully.</p>
+
+<p>And so the Reds won the second of the first series of games. There was a
+rather stormy scene in the clubhouse after it was over, and Mr. Watson
+did some plain talking to Dugan. But, after all, it was too common an
+occurrence to merit much attention, and, really, nothing very serious
+had occurred.</p>
+
+<p>The contest between the Reds and Cardinals was an even break, each team
+taking two. Then came preparations for the Cardinals taking the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span> road. A
+series of four games with the Chicago Cubs was next in order, and there,
+in the Windy City, St. Louis fared rather better, taking three.</p>
+
+<p>"I wonder if I'm ever going to get a chance," mused Joe, who had been
+sent to the "bull-pen" many times to warm up, but as yet he had not been
+called on.</p>
+
+<p>After games with the Pittsburg Pirates, in which an even break was
+registered, the Cardinals returned to St. Louis. As they had an open
+date, a game was arranged with one of the Central League teams, the
+Washburgs.</p>
+
+<p>"Say, I would like to pitch against them!" exclaimed Joe.</p>
+
+<p>And he had his chance. When the practice was over Manager Watson, with a
+smile at our hero, said, with a friendly nod:</p>
+
+<p>"Joe, you go in and see what you can do."</p>
+
+<p>Joe was to have his first big chance.</p>
+
+<p class="con"><a href="#contents">Back to contents</a></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span><a name="XX" id="XX"></a>CHAPTER XX<br />
+<br />
+<small>STAGE FRIGHT</small></h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Joe</span> was a little nervous at first, but it was like being among old
+friends to work against the Washburg team.</p>
+
+<p>"How's your head, Joe?" asked some of the players whom he knew well,
+from having associated with them in the Central League.</p>
+
+<p>"Had to get larger sized caps?" asked another.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't you believe it!" exclaimed the Washburg catcher. "Joe Matson
+isn't that kind of a chap!" and Joe was grateful to him.</p>
+
+<p>The game was not so easy as some of the Cardinal players had professed
+to believe it would be. Not all of the first string men went in, but
+they were in reserve, to be used if needed. For baseball is often an
+uncertainty.</p>
+
+<p>Joe looked around at the grandstands and bleachers as he went out for
+warm-up practice.</p>
+
+<p>There was a fair-sized crowd in attendance, but nothing like the throng
+that would have been present at a league game.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span>"But I'll pitch before a big crowd before I'm through the season!"
+declared Joe to himself, though it was not clear how this was to be
+brought about.</p>
+
+<p>Washburg had a good team, and knew how to make everything tell. They led
+off with a run, which, however, was due to an error on the part of two
+of the Cardinals. Joe was a little put out by it, for he had allowed
+only scattering hits that inning.</p>
+
+<p>"Better try to tighten up&mdash;if you can," advised Boswell, as our hero
+came to the bench. "They're finding you a bit."</p>
+
+<p>"They won't&mdash;any more!" exclaimed Joe, fiercely.</p>
+
+<p>The Washburg pitcher was a good one, as Joe knew, so it was not
+surprising that he was not so very badly batted. In fact, it was hard
+work for the Cardinals to garner three runs during their half of the
+first inning. But they got them.</p>
+
+<p>Joe had the advantage of knowing considerable about the various batters
+who faced him, so it was easier than it would have been for another
+pitcher to deceive them. He varied his delivery, used his fadeaway and
+his cross-fire, and had the satisfaction of pitching three innings
+during which he did not allow a hit.</p>
+
+<p>"That's the way to do it!" exclaimed his friend Boswell, the coach.
+"Hold 'em to that,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span> and you'll have a look-in at a big game, soon."</p>
+
+<p>And Joe did. In vain did the Washburgs send in their best pinch hitters;
+in vain did they try to steal bases. Twice Joe nipped the man at first,
+who was taking too big a lead, and once the young pitcher stopped a hot
+liner that came driving right at him.</p>
+
+<p>Then the story was told, and the Cardinals romped home easy winners. Joe
+had done well, even though the Washburgs were not exactly big leaguers.</p>
+
+<p>In the weeks that followed, Joe worked hard. There was constant morning
+practice, when the weather allowed it, and the work on the circuit was
+exacting. Occasionally Joe went in as relief pitcher, when the game was
+safe in the "ice box," but the chance he wanted was to pitch against the
+New Yorks at St. Louis.</p>
+
+<p>For the Giants were at the top of the league now, and holding on to
+their pennant place with grim tenacity. In turn Joe and his fellow
+players went to Philadelphia, New York and Boston, eventually playing
+all around the circuit, but, as yet, the young pitcher had had no real
+chance to show what he could do.</p>
+
+<p>It was irksome&mdash;it was even heart-breaking at times; but Joe had to
+stand it. Sometimes he felt that he could do better than Barter, Willard
+and Cooney, the seasoned veterans, and especially was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span> this so when the
+game went against the Cardinals.</p>
+
+<p>For the St. Louis team was falling sadly behind. They were next to the
+tail-enders for some time, and the outlook was dubious. The papers
+alternately roasted and poked fun at the Cardinals, and Manager Watson
+was urged to "do something."</p>
+
+<p>Various remedies were suggested. New players might be had, and in fact
+some exchanges were made. Another catcher was imported, from the
+Detroits, and a new shortstop engaged in a trade. But the pitching staff
+remained unchanged.</p>
+
+<p>Then some reporter, looking for "copy," saw a chance in Joe, and in a
+snappy little article reviewed Joe's career, ending with:</p>
+
+<p>"If Mr. Watson wants to see his Cardinals crawl up out of the subway why
+doesn't he give Matson a chance? The youngster can pitch good ball, and
+the line of twirling that has been handed out by the Cardinals thus far
+this season would be laughable, were it not lamentable."</p>
+
+<p>Of course that article made trouble for Joe, especially with the
+pitching staff.</p>
+
+<p>"Say, how much did you slip that reporter to pull off that dope about
+you?" inquired Willard with a sneer.</p>
+
+<p>"What do you mean?" asked Joe indignantly.</p>
+
+<p>"I mean how much coin did you pay him?"</p>
+
+<p>"You know I didn't have anything to do with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span> it!" our hero fired back.
+"He asked me for my record, and I gave it to him. I didn't know he was
+going to write that."</p>
+
+<p>"A likely story," grumbled Willard.</p>
+
+<p>The other pitchers did not say so much, but it was clear they did not
+like the "roasting" they got. But it was not Joe's doing.</p>
+
+<p>There were shifts and re-shifts, there were hard feelings manifested,
+and gotten over. But nothing could disguise the fact that the Cardinals
+were in a "slump."</p>
+
+<p>Loyal as the St. Louis "fans" were to their teams, when they were on the
+winning side, it was not in human nature to love a losing nine.</p>
+
+<p>So that it got to be the fashion to refer to the Cardinals as "losing
+again." And this did not make for good ball playing, either. There were
+sore hearts among the players when they assembled in the clubhouse after
+successive defeats.</p>
+
+<p>Not that the Cardinals lost all the time. No team could do that, and
+stay in the big league. But they never got to the top of the second
+division, and even that was not much of an honor to strive for. Still,
+it was better than nothing.</p>
+
+<p>Joe pitched occasionally, and, when he did there was a little
+improvement, at times. But of course he was not a veteran, and once or
+twice he was wild.</p>
+
+<p>Then the paper which bore the least friendliness<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span> to the Cardinals took
+a different tack. It laughed at the manager for sending in a young
+pitcher when a veteran was needed.</p>
+
+<p>"Say, I'd like to know just what those fellows want me to do!" Mr.
+Watson exclaimed one day, after a particularly severe roast. "I can't
+seem to please 'em, no matter what I do."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't let 'em get your goat," advised his coach. "Go on. Keep going.
+We'll strike a winning streak yet, and mark my words, it will be Joe
+Matson who'll pull us out of a hole."</p>
+
+<p>"He hasn't done so well yet," objected Mr. Watson, dubiously.</p>
+
+<p>"No, and it's because he hasn't exactly found himself. He is a bit
+nervous yet. Give him time."</p>
+
+<p>"And stay in the cellar?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, but what are you going to do?" reasoned the other. "Cooney and
+Barter aren't pitching such wonderful ball."</p>
+
+<p>"No, that's true, but they can generally pull up in a tight place. I'd
+send Matson in oftener than I do, only I'm afraid he'll blow up when the
+crises comes. He is a good pitcher, I admit that, but he isn't seasoned
+yet. The Central League and the National are a wide distance apart."</p>
+
+<p>"That's true. But I'd like to see him have his chance."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span>"Well, I'll give it to him. We play Boston next week. They happen to be
+in the second division just at present, although they seem to be going
+up fast. I'll let Joe go up against them."</p>
+
+<p>"That won't be as good as letting him go against New York," said
+Boswell.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, it'll have to do," decided the manager, who could be very set in
+his ways at times.</p>
+
+<p>The Braves proved rather "easy," for the Cardinals and, as Boswell had
+indicated, there was little glory for Joe in pitching against them. He
+won his game, and this, coupled with the fact that the reporter friendly
+to Joe made much of it, further incensed the other pitchers.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't mind 'em," said Rad, and Joe tried not to.</p>
+
+<p>The season was advancing. Try as the Cardinals did, they could not get
+to the top of the second division.</p>
+
+<p>"And if we don't finish there I'll feel like getting out of the game,"
+said the manager gloomily, after a defeat.</p>
+
+<p>"Pitch Matson against the Giants," advised the coach.</p>
+
+<p>"By Jove! I'll do it!" cried the manager, in desperation. "We open with
+New York at St. Louis next week for four games. I'll let Matson see what
+he can do, though I reckon I'll be roasted and laughed at for taking
+such a chance."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span>"Well, maybe not," the coach replied, chuckling.</p>
+
+<p>In the meanwhile Joe had been working hard. Under the advice of Boswell
+he adopted new training tactics, and he had his arm massaged by a
+professional between games. He was surprised at the result of the new
+treatment, and he found he was much fresher after a hard pitching battle
+than he had been before.</p>
+
+<p>"He thinks he's going to be a Boy Wonder," sneered Willard.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, cut it out!" snapped Boswell. "If some of you old stagers would
+take better care of yourselves there'd be better ball played."</p>
+
+<p>"Huh!" sneered Willard.</p>
+
+<p>The Cardinals came back to St. Louis to play a series with New York.</p>
+
+<p>"Wow!" exclaimed Rad as he and Joe, discussing the Giants' record, were
+sitting together in the Pullman on their way to their home city, "here's
+where it looks as if we might get eaten up!"</p>
+
+<p>"Don't cross a bridge before you hear it barking at you," advised Joe.
+"Maybe they won't be so worse. We're on our own grounds, that's sure."</p>
+
+<p>"Not much in that," decided his chum, dubiously.</p>
+
+<p>When Joe reached the hotel he found several<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span> letters awaiting him. One,
+in a girl's handwriting, he opened first.</p>
+
+<p>"Does she still love you?" laughed Rad, noticing his friend's rapt
+attention.</p>
+
+<p>"Dry up! She's coming on to St. Louis."</p>
+
+<p>"She is? Good! Will she see you play?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I don't know. It doesn't look as though I was going to get a
+game&mdash;especially against New York."</p>
+
+<p>"Cheer up! There might be something worse."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I might have another run-in with Shalleg."</p>
+
+<p>"That's so. Seen anything of him lately?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, but I hear he's been writing letters to Mr. Watson, intimating that
+if the boss wants to see the team come up out of the subway, Shalleg is
+the man to help."</p>
+
+<p>"Some nerve; eh?"</p>
+
+<p>"I should say so!"</p>
+
+<p>It was a glorious sunny day, perhaps too hot, but that makes for good
+baseball, for it limbers up the players. The grandstand and bleachers
+were rapidly filling, and out on the well-kept diamond of Robison Field
+the rival teams&mdash;the Cardinals and the Giants&mdash;were practicing.</p>
+
+<p>Mabel Varley and her brother had come to St. Louis, stopping off on
+business, and Joe had called on them.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span>"I'm coming out to see you play," Mabel announced after the greetings at
+the hotel.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm afraid you won't," said Joe, somewhat gloomily.</p>
+
+<p>"Why not?" she asked in surprise. "Aren't you on the pitching staff?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, but perhaps you haven't been keeping track of where the Cardinals
+stand in the pennant race."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes, I have!" she laughed, and blushed. "I read the papers every
+day."</p>
+
+<p>"That's nice. Then you know we're pretty well down?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, but the season isn't half over yet. I think you'll do better."</p>
+
+<p>"I sure do hope so," murmured Joe. "But, for all that, I am afraid you
+won't see me pitch to-day. Mr. Watson won't dare risk me, though I think
+I could do some good work. I'm feeling fine."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I do hope you get a chance!" Mabel exclaimed enthusiastically.
+"Anyhow, I'm going to have one of the front boxes, and there are to be
+some girl friends with me. You know them, I think&mdash;Hattie Walsh and Jean
+Douglass."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes, I remember them," Joe said. "Well, I hope you see us win, but
+I doubt it."</p>
+
+<p>And now, as the game was about to start, Joe looked up and saw, in one
+of the front boxes,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span> Mabel and her friends. He went over to speak to
+them, as he walked in from practice.</p>
+
+<p>"For good luck!" said Mabel softly, as she gave him one of the flowers
+she was wearing.</p>
+
+<p>"Thanks," and Joe blushed.</p>
+
+<p>As yet the battery of the Cardinals had not been announced. Clearly
+Manager Watson was in a quandary. He and Boswell consulted together,
+while the players waited nervously. Some of the newspaper reporters,
+anxious to flash some word to their papers, asked who was to pitch.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll let you know in a few minutes," was the manager's answer.</p>
+
+<p>And then, as the time for calling the game approached, Mr. Watson handed
+his batting order to the umpire.</p>
+
+<p>The latter stared at it a moment before making the announcement. He
+seemed a trifle surprised.</p>
+
+<p>"Batteries!" he called through his megaphone. "For New York, Hankinson
+and Burke&mdash;for St. Louis&mdash;Matson and Russell."</p>
+
+<p>Joe was to pitch, and in the biggest game he had ever attempted!</p>
+
+<p>There was a rushing and roaring in his ears, and for a moment he could
+not see clearly.</p>
+
+<p>"Go to it, Matson," said the manager. "I'm going to try you out."</p>
+
+<p>Joe's lips trembled. He was glad his teammates could not know how he
+felt. Nervously he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span> walked out to the mound, and caught the new ball
+which the umpire divested of its foil cover and tossed to him. Russell
+girded himself in protector and mask, and the batter stepped back to
+allow the usual practice balls.</p>
+
+<p>Someone in a box applauded. Joe could not see, but he knew it was Mabel.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Joe's going to pitch!" she exclaimed to her girl friends. "I hope
+he strikes them all out!"</p>
+
+<p>"Not much chance," her brother said, rather grimly.</p>
+
+<p>Joe sent the first ball whizzing in. It went so wild that the catcher
+had to jump for it. There was a murmur from the stands, and some of the
+Giants grinned at one another.</p>
+
+<p>Russell signalled to Joe that he wanted to speak to him. Pitcher and
+catcher advanced toward one another.</p>
+
+<p>"What's the matter?" Russell wanted to know, while some in the crowd
+laughed at the conference. "Got stage fright?"</p>
+
+<p>"Ye&mdash;yes," stammered Joe. Poor Joe, he had a bad case of nerves.</p>
+
+<p>"Say, look here!" exclaimed Russell with a intentional fierceness. "If
+you don't get over it, and pitch good ball, I'll give you the best
+beating up you ever had when we get to the clubhouse! I'm not going to
+stand being laughed at because<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span> you're such a rotten pitcher! Do you get
+me!" and he leered savagely at Joe.</p>
+
+<p>The effect on the young pitcher was like an electric shock. He had never
+been spoken to like that before. But it was just the tonic he needed.</p>
+
+<p>"I get you," he said briefly.</p>
+
+<p>"It's a good thing you do!" said Russell brutally, and, as he walked
+back to his place his face softened. "I hated to speak that way to the
+lad," he murmured to himself, "but it was the only way to get him over
+his fright."</p>
+
+<p class="con"><a href="#contents">Back to contents</a></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span><a name="XXI" id="XXI"></a>CHAPTER XXI<br />
+<br />
+<small>A QUEER MESSAGE</small></h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">The</span> next practice ball Joe sent in went cleanly over the plate, and
+landed with a thud in the catcher's glove. Russell nodded at Joe, to
+indicate that was what he wanted.</p>
+
+<p>"Play ball!" directed the umpire, and the batter moved up closer to the
+plate.</p>
+
+<p>Stooping low, and concealing his signal with his big glove, Russell
+called for a straight, swift ball. Joe gave it, and as it was in the
+proper place, though the striker did not attempt to hit it, the umpire
+called:</p>
+
+<p>"Strike&mdash;one!"</p>
+
+<p>Indignantly the batter looked around, but it was only done for effect.
+He knew it was a strike.</p>
+
+<p>"That's the way. Now we've got 'em!" cried Boswell from the coaching
+line.</p>
+
+<p>"Ball one," was the next decision of the umpire, and Joe felt a little
+resentment, for he had made sure it went over the plate. But there was
+little use to object.</p>
+
+<p>A curve was next called for, and Joe succeeded<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span> in enticing the batter
+to strike at it. But the stick missed the horsehide cleanly. It was two
+strikes.</p>
+
+<p>"Pretty work! Oh, pretty work!" howled Boswell.</p>
+
+<p>A foul next resulted, and Russell missed it by inches. The batter had
+still another chance. But it availed him little, for Joe fooled him on
+the next one.</p>
+
+<p>"Good!" nodded the catcher to the young pitcher, and Joe felt his vision
+clearing now. He looked over toward where Mabel was sitting. She smiled
+encouragingly at him.</p>
+
+<p>The New Yorks got one hit off Joe that inning, but, though the man on
+first stole second, after Joe had tried to nip him several times, the
+other two men struck out, and a goose egg went up in the first frame.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, if you can do that eight more times the game is ours, if we can
+only get one run," said Manager Watson, as Joe came up to the bench,
+smiling happily.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll try," was all he said.</p>
+
+<p>But the Cardinals did not get their run that inning, nor the next nor
+the next nor next. The game ran along for five innings with neither side
+crossing home plate, and talk of a "pitchers' battle" began to be heard.
+Joe was pitching remarkably well, allowing only scattering hits. The
+Giants could not seem to bunch them.</p>
+
+<p>Then, as might have been expected, Joe had a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span> bit of bad luck. There had
+been hard work for him that day&mdash;hard and nervous work, and it told on
+him. He was hit for a two-bagger, and the next man walked, though Joe
+thought some of the decisions unfair.</p>
+
+<p>Then the runner attempted to steal third. There was a wild throw, and
+the man came in, scoring the first run. Joe felt a wave of chagrin sweep
+over him. He felt that the game was going.</p>
+
+<p>"Tighten up! Tighten up!" he heard Boswell call to him. By a determined
+effort he got himself well in hand, and then amid the cheers of the
+crowd he succeeded in striking out the other men up, so that only the
+one run was in.</p>
+
+<p>But the pace was telling on Joe. He gave two men their base on balls the
+next time he pitched, and by a combination of circumstances, two more
+runs were made before the Giants were retired.</p>
+
+<p>"This won't do," murmured Mr. Watson. "I'm afraid I'll have to take Joe
+out."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't," advised Boswell. "He'll be all right, but if you take him out
+now you'll break him all up. I think he could have a little better
+support."</p>
+
+<p>"Possibly. The fielding is a bit shaky. I'll send in Lawson to bat for
+Campbell."</p>
+
+<p>This change resulted in a marked improvement With a mighty clout Lawson
+knocked a home run, and, as there was a man on third, that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span> two. From
+then on the Cardinals seemed to find themselves. They began coming back
+in earnest, and everyone "got the habit." Even Joe, proverbially poor
+hitters as pitchers are supposed to be, did his share, and, by placing a
+neat little drive, that eluded the shortstop, he brought in another
+needed run.</p>
+
+<p>"One ahead now! That's fine!" cried Rad to his chum, though Joe "died"
+on second. "If we can only hold 'em down&mdash;&mdash;" and he looked
+questioningly at the young pitcher.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll do it!" cried Joe, desperately.</p>
+
+<p>It did not look as though he would, though, when the first man up, after
+receiving three and two, was allowed to walk. Joe felt a bit shaky, but
+he steeled himself to hold his nerve. The man at first was a notorious
+base-stealer, and Joe watched him closely. Twice he threw to the initial
+sack, hoping to nip him, and he almost succeeded. Then he slammed in a
+swift one to the batter, only to know that the runner started for
+second.</p>
+
+<p>But it did him little good to do it, for though he made third, Joe
+struck out his three men amid a wave of applause.</p>
+
+<p>"One more like that, and we've got the game!" cried Mr. Watson. "It's up
+to you, Joe. But if you can't stand it I'll send in Slim."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll stand it," was the grim answer, though Joe's arm ached.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span>And stand it Joe did. He was hit once in that last inning, and one man
+got his base on balls. And then and there Joe gave a remarkably nervy
+exhibition. He nipped the man on first, and then in quick succession
+succeeded in fooling the two batters next up.</p>
+
+<p>"That's the eye!"</p>
+
+<p>"The Cardinals win!"</p>
+
+<p>"What's the matter with Joe Matson?"</p>
+
+<p>"He's all right!"</p>
+
+<p>The crowd went wild, as it had a right to do, and Joe's face was as red
+with pleasure as the nickname of his team. For he had had a large share
+in defeating the redoubtable Giants, though to the credit of that team
+be it said that several of its best players were laid up, and, at a
+critical part in the game their best hitter was ruled out for abusing
+the umpire.</p>
+
+<p>But that took away nothing from Baseball Joe's glory.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I'm so glad you won!" cried Mabel, as he passed her box. "Isn't it
+glorious?"</p>
+
+<p>"It sure is," he admitted with a smile.</p>
+
+<p>"Can't you take dinner with us at the hotel?" she went on, and Joe
+blushingly agreed. The other girls smiled at him, and Reggie nodded in a
+friendly manner.</p>
+
+<p>"Great work, old man!" called Mabel's brother. "It was a neat game."</p>
+
+<p>Then Joe hurried off to have a shower, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span> dress, and in the clubhouse
+he was hailed genially by his fellow players.</p>
+
+<p>"Good work, Joe!"</p>
+
+<p>"I didn't think you had it in you."</p>
+
+<p>"This sure will make the Giants feel sore."</p>
+
+<p>As for Manager Watson, he looked at Joe in a manner that meant much to
+the young pitcher.</p>
+
+<p>"I told you so!" said the old coach to the manager, later that day.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, you did," admitted the latter. "Of course I knew Joe had good
+stuff in him, but I didn't think it would come out so soon. He may help
+pull us up out of the cellar yet."</p>
+
+<p>Joe enjoyed the little dinner with Mabel and her friends that night, as
+he had seldom before taken pleasure in a gathering. Rad was one of the
+guests, and later they went to the theatre, as there was no game next
+day.</p>
+
+<p>But if the Cardinals expected to repeat their performance they were
+disappointed. Joe was started in another contest, and he was glad Mabel
+was not present, for somehow he could not keep control of the balls, and
+following a rather poor exhibition, he was taken out after the fourth
+inning. But it was too late to save the game.</p>
+
+<p>"Never mind, we got one of the four, and it was due to you," consoled
+Rad, when the series was over. "And you've found out what it is to stack
+up against the Giants."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span>Joe had had his "baptism of fire," and it had done him good. The St.
+Louis team was to take the road again, after a time spent in the home
+town, where they had somewhat improved their standing.</p>
+
+<p>"Got anything to do this evening?" asked Rad, as they were coming back
+from the ball park, after a final game with Boston.</p>
+
+<p>"No."</p>
+
+<p>"Then let's go to the Park Theatre. There's a good hot-weather show on."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm with you."</p>
+
+<p>"All right. I've got to go down town, but I'll be back before it's time
+to go," Rad went on.</p>
+
+<p>Joe dressed, and waited around the hotel lobby for his friend to return.
+It grew rather late, and Joe glanced uneasily at the clock. He was
+rather surprised, as he stood at the hotel desk, to hear his name spoken
+by a messenger boy who entered.</p>
+
+<p>"Matson? There he is," and the clerk indicated our hero.</p>
+
+<p>"Sign here," said the boy, shortly. Joe wondered if the telegram
+contained bad news from home. Giving the lad a dime tip, Joe opened the
+envelope with fingers that trembled, and then he read this rather queer
+message:</p>
+
+<p>"If you want to do your friend Rad a good turn, come to the address
+below," and Joe recognized the street as one in a less desirable section
+of the city.</p>
+
+<p class="con"><a href="#contents">Back to contents</a></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span><a name="XXII" id="XXII"></a>CHAPTER XXII<br />
+<br />
+<small>IN DANGER</small></h2>
+
+
+<p>"<span class="smcap">Bad</span> news?" asked the hotel clerk, as he noticed the look on Joe's face.</p>
+
+<p>"No&mdash;yes&mdash;well, it's unexpected news," hesitated Joe, as he made up his
+mind, on the instant, not to tell the contents of the note. He wanted a
+little time to think. Rapidly he read the message over again. The boy
+was just shuffling out of the hotel.</p>
+
+<p>"Wait a minute!" Joe called after him. "Where'd you get this note?" the
+young pitcher asked.</p>
+
+<p>"At de office."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I know. But who brought it in?"</p>
+
+<p>"I dunno. Youse'll have to see de manager."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, all right," Joe assented, and then he turned aside. He was still in
+a quandary as to what to do.</p>
+
+<p>Once more he read the note.</p>
+
+<p>"'If you want to do your friend Rad a good turn,'" he repeated. "Of
+course I do, but what does it mean? Rad can't be in trouble, or he'd<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span>
+have sent me some word himself. That isn't a very good neighborhood at
+night, but I guess I can take care of myself. The trouble is, though, if
+I go out, and Rad comes back here in the meanwhile, what will happen?"</p>
+
+<p>Joe was thinking hard, trying to find some solution of the mystery, and
+then a flash came to him.</p>
+
+<p>"Baseball!" he whispered to himself. "Maybe it is something to do with
+baseball! Someone may be scouting for Rad, and want to find out, on the
+quiet, if he's willing to help in making a shift to some other team.
+They want me to aid them, perhaps."</p>
+
+<p>Joe had been long enough in organized baseball to know that there are
+many twists and turns to it, and that many "deals" are carried on in
+what might be considered an underhand manner. Often, when rival
+organizations in the baseball world are at war, the various managers,
+and scouts, go to great lengths, and secretly, to get some player they
+consider valuable.</p>
+
+<p>"Maybe some rival club is after Rad and doesn't want its plans known,"
+mused Joe. "That must be it. They know he and I are chums, and they come
+to me first. Well, I sure do want to help Rad, but I don't want to see
+him leave the Cardinals. I guess I'll take a chance and go down there.
+I'll leave word at the desk<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span> that I'll meet Rad at the theatre. That
+will be the best. I can telephone back to the hotel, after I go to this
+address, and find out if Rad has been back here. I'll go."</p>
+
+<p>Stuffing the queer note into his pocket, Joe started off, catching a car
+that would take him near the address given. Before leaving, he arranged
+with the hotel clerk to tell Rad that he would meet him at the theatre.</p>
+
+<p>It was a rather dark, and quite lonesome, street in which Joe found
+himself after leaving the street car. On either side were tall buildings
+that shut out much of the light by day, while at night they made the
+place a veritable canyon of gloom. There were big warehouses and
+factories with, here and there, a smaller building, and some ramshackle
+dwellings that had withstood the encroachment of business.</p>
+
+<p>Some of these latter had fallen into decay, and others were being used
+as miserable homes by those who could afford no better. In one or two,
+saloons held forth, the light from their swinging doors making yellow
+patches on the dark pavement.</p>
+
+<p>"I wouldn't like to have to live down here," mused Joe, as he picked his
+way along, looking, as best he could, for the number given in the note.
+"It's a queer place to appoint a meeting, but I suppose the baseball
+fellows don't want to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span> be spied on. I'll be glad when I'm through."</p>
+
+<p>Joe walked on a little farther. The neighborhood seemed to become more
+deserted and lonesome. From afar off came the distant hum and roar of
+the city, but all around Joe was silence, broken, now and then, by the
+sound of ribald laughter from the occasional saloons.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, here's the place!" exclaimed Joe, as he stood in front of one of
+the few dwellings in the midst of the factories. "It looks gloomy
+enough. I wonder who can be waiting to see me here about Rad? Well,
+there's a light, anyhow."</p>
+
+<p>As Joe approached the steps of the old house he saw, at one side of the
+door, a board on which were scrawled the words:</p>
+
+<p class="center"><em>Peerless Athletic Club</em></p>
+
+<p>"Hum! Must be a queer sort of club," mused Joe. "I guess they do more
+exercise with their tongues, and with billiard cues, than with their
+muscles."</p>
+
+<p>For, as he mounted the steps, he heard from within the click of billiard
+and pool balls, and the noise of talk and laughter. It was one of the
+so-called "athletic" clubs, that often abound in low neighborhoods,
+where the name is but an excuse for young "toughs" to gather. Under the
+name, and sometimes incorporation of a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span> "club," they have certain rights
+and privileges not otherwise obtainable. They are often a political
+factor, and the authorities, for the sake of the votes they control,
+wink at minor violations of the law. It was to such a place as this that
+Joe had come&mdash;or, in view of what happened afterward, had been lured
+would be the more proper term.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, what do youse want?" asked an ill-favored youth, as Joe entered
+the poorly lighted hall. The fellow had his hat tilted to one side, and
+a cigarette was glued to one lip, moving up and down curiously as he
+spoke.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know who I want," said Joe, as pleasantly as he could. "I was
+told to come here to do my friend Rad Chase a favor. I'm Joe Matson, of
+the Cardinals, and&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes. He's expectin' youse. Go on in," and the fellow nodded toward
+a back room, the door of which stood partly open. Joe hesitated a
+moment, while the youth who had spoken to him went out and stood on the
+half-rotting steps. Then, deciding that, as he had come thus far, he
+might as well see the thing through, Joe started for the rear room.</p>
+
+<p>But, as he reached the door, and heard a voice speaking, he hesitated.
+For what he heard was this:</p>
+
+<p>"S'posin' he don't come?"</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span>"Aw, he'll come all right, Wessel," said another voice. "He sure is
+stuck on his friend Rad, and he'll want to know what he can do for him.
+He'll come, all right."</p>
+
+<p>"Shalleg!" gasped Joe, as he recognized the tones. "It's a trick. He
+thinks he can trap me here!"</p>
+
+<p>As he turned to go, Joe heard Wessel say:</p>
+
+<p>"There won't be no rough work; will there?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, no! Not too rough!" replied Shalleg with a nasty laugh.</p>
+
+<p>Deciding that discretion was the better part of valor, Joe was hastening
+away when he accidentally knocked over a box in the hall. Instantly the
+door to the rear room was thrown wide open, giving the young pitcher, as
+he turned, a glimpse of Shalleg, Wessel and several other men seated
+about a table, playing cards.</p>
+
+<p>"Who's there?" cried Shalleg. Then, as he saw Joe hurrying away, he
+added: "Hold on, Matson. I sent for you. I want to see you!"</p>
+
+<p>"But I don't want to see you!" Joe called back over his shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>"Say, this is straight goods!" cried Shalleg, pushing back his chair
+from the table, the legs scraping over the bare boards of the floor.
+"It's all right. I've got a chance to do your friend Rad Chase a good
+turn, and you can help in it. Wait a minute!"</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span>But Joe fled, unheeding. Then Shalleg, seeing that his plans were about
+to miscarry, yelled:</p>
+
+<p>"Stop him, somebody!"</p>
+
+<p>Joe was running along the dim hallway. As he reached the outside steps
+the youth who had first accosted him turned, and made a grab for him.</p>
+
+<p>"What's your hurry?" he demanded. "Hold on!"</p>
+
+<p>Joe did not answer, but, eluding the outstretched hands, made the
+sidewalk in a jump and ran up the street. He was fleet of foot&mdash;his
+training gave him that&mdash;and soon he was safe from pursuit, though, as a
+matter of fact, no one came after him. Shalleg and his tools were hardly
+ready for such desperate measures yet, it seemed.</p>
+
+<p>Joe passed a side street, and, looking up it, saw at the other end, a
+more brilliantly lighted thoroughfare. Arguing rightly that he would be
+safer there, Joe turned up, and soon was in a more decent neighborhood.
+His heart was beating rapidly, partly from the run, and partly through
+apprehension, for he had an underlying fear that it would not have been
+for his good to have gone into the room where Shalleg was.</p>
+
+<p>"Whew! That was a happening," remarked Joe, as he slowed down. "I wonder
+what it all meant? Shalleg must be getting desperate. But<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span> why does he
+keep after me? Unless he thinks I am responsible for his not getting a
+place on the Cardinals. It's absurd to think that, but it does seem so.
+I wonder what I'd better do?"</p>
+
+<p>Joe tried to reason it out, and then came the recollection of Rad.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll telephone to the hotel, and see if he's come back," he said.
+"Then, when I meet him, I'll tell him all that happened. It's a queer
+go, sure enough."</p>
+
+<p>A telephone message to the hotel clerk brought the information that Rad
+had telephoned in himself, saying that he had been unexpectedly
+detained, and would meet Joe at the theatre entrance.</p>
+
+<p>"That's good!" thought our hero. For one moment, after running away from
+the gloomy house, he had had a notion that perhaps Rad had also been
+lured there. Now he knew his friend was safe.</p>
+
+<p>"Sorry I couldn't come back to the hotel for you," Rad greeted Joe, as
+they met in front of the theatre. "But my business took me longer than I
+counted on. We're in time for the show, anyhow. It starts a little later
+in summer."</p>
+
+<p>"That's all right," said Joe. "As a matter of fact I have been away from
+the hotel myself, for some time."</p>
+
+<p>"So the clerk said. Told me you'd gone out<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span> and left a message for me.
+Say, what's up, Joe? You look as though something had happened," for
+now, in the light, Rad had a glimpse of his chum's face, and it wore a
+strange look.</p>
+
+<p>"Something did happen," said Joe in a low voice. "I believe I was in
+danger. I'll tell you all about it," which he did, in a low voice,
+between the acts of the play.</p>
+
+<p>It is doubtful if either Joe or Rad paid much attention to what occurred
+on the stage that evening.</p>
+
+<p class="con"><a href="#contents">Back to contents</a></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span><a name="XXIII" id="XXIII"></a>CHAPTER XXIII<br />
+<br />
+<small>A LAME ARM</small></h2>
+
+
+<p>"<span class="smcap">But</span>, great Scott, Joe!" exclaimed Rad, when he had been given all the
+facts of the strange occurrence, "that was a raw sort of deal!"</p>
+
+<p>"I think so myself."</p>
+
+<p>"Why don't you get the police after them?"</p>
+
+<p>"What would be the good? Nothing really happened, and just because I
+have an idea it would have, if I'd given them the chance to get at me,
+doesn't make them liable to arrest. I would look foolish going to the
+police."</p>
+
+<p>"Maybe so. But then there's that note. They didn't have any idea of
+doing me a good turn. That was almost a forgery."</p>
+
+<p>"The trouble is we can't prove it, though. I think the only thing I can
+do is to let it go, and be more careful in the future."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, maybe it is," agreed Rad slowly. "But what do you think was their
+object?"</p>
+
+<p>"I haven't the least idea," replied Joe. "That is, the only thing I can
+imagine is that Shalleg<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span> wanted to scare me; or, perhaps, threaten me
+for what he imagines I have done to him."</p>
+
+<p>"And that is?" questioned Rad.</p>
+
+<p>"That I've been spreading false reports about him to our manager, in
+order to keep him off the team. As a matter of fact, I don't believe I
+have ever mentioned him to Mr. Watson. It's all imagination on Shalleg's
+part."</p>
+
+<p>"What condition was he in to-night?" asked Rad, as he and Joe were on
+their way to the hotel after the play.</p>
+
+<p>"As far as I could judge, he was about as he has been most of the time
+lately&mdash;scarcely sober. That, and his gambling and irregular living,
+took him off the team, you know."</p>
+
+<p>"And he thinks, with that record behind him, that he can get on the
+Cardinals!" exclaimed Rad. "He's crazy!"</p>
+
+<p>"He's dangerous, too," added Joe. "I'm going to be more careful after
+this."</p>
+
+<p>"And you thought you were doing me a favor, old man?"</p>
+
+<p>"I sure did, Rad. I thought maybe some scout from another club was
+trying to secure your valuable services."</p>
+
+<p>"Now you're stringing me!"</p>
+
+<p>"No, I'm not, really. You know there are queer doings in baseball."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, but none as queer as that. Well, I'm<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span> much obliged, anyhow. But
+after this you stick to me. If there's any danger we'll share it
+together!"</p>
+
+<p>"Thanks!" exclaimed Joe warmly.</p>
+
+<p>"Going to say anything to the boss about this?" asked Rad, after a
+pause.</p>
+
+<p>"I think not. Would you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, perhaps we might just as well keep still about it," agreed Rad.
+"We'll see if we can't trap this Shalleg and his crony, and put a stop
+to their game."</p>
+
+<p>"All they have been is a nuisance, so far," spoke Joe. "But there's no
+telling when they might turn to something else."</p>
+
+<p>"That's so. Well, we'll keep our weather eyes open."</p>
+
+<p>Joe was not a little unnerved by his experience, and he was glad there
+was not a game next day.</p>
+
+<p>The Cardinals had crept up a peg. They were now standing one from the
+top of the second division of clubs, and there began to be heard talk
+that they would surely lead their column before many more games had been
+played.</p>
+
+<p>"And maybe break into the first division!" exclaimed Trainer Boswell.
+"If you keep on the way you've started, Matson, we sure will do it!"</p>
+
+<p>"I'll do my best," responded Joe.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span>In a series of four games with the Brooklyn Superbas the Cardinals broke
+even, thus maintaining their position. But they could not seem to climb
+any higher. Joe's pitching helped a lot, and he was regarded as a coming
+star. He was acquiring more confidence in himself, and that, in playing
+big baseball, helps a lot.</p>
+
+<p>Of course I am not saying that Joe did all the work for his team. No
+pitcher does, but a pitcher is a big factor. It takes batters to make
+hits and runs, however, and the Cardinals had their share of them. They
+could have done better with more, but good players brought high prices,
+and Manager Watson had spent all the club owners felt like laying out.</p>
+
+<p>The other pitchers of the Cardinals worked hard. It must not be imagined
+that because I dwell so much on Joe's efforts that he was the "whole
+show."</p>
+
+<p>Far from it. At times Joe had his "off days" as well as did the others,
+and there were times when he felt so discouraged that he wanted to give
+it all up, and go back to a smaller league.</p>
+
+<p>But Joe had grit, and he stuck to it. He was determined to make as great
+a name for himself as is possible in baseball, and he knew he must take
+the bitter with the sweet, and accept defeat when it came, as it is
+bound to now and then.</p>
+
+<p>Nor did his determination to overcome obstacles<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span> fail of its object.
+With the other members of the team, Joe played so surprisingly well that
+suddenly the Cardinals took one of those remarkable "braces" that
+sometimes come in baseball, and from eighth position the club leaped
+forward into fifth, being aided considerably by some hard luck on the
+part of the other teams. In other words, "things broke right" for the
+Cardinals and the St. Louis "fans" began to harbor hopes of a possible
+pennant.</p>
+
+<p>Joe had several incentives for doing his best. There were his folks. He
+wanted to justify his father's faith in him, and also his sister's. Joe
+knew that his mother, in spite of her kind and loving ways, was secretly
+disappointed that he had quit his college career to become a baseball
+player.</p>
+
+<p>"But I'll show her that it's just as honorable as one of the learned
+professions, and that it pays better in a great many cases," reasoned
+Joe. "Though of course the money end of it isn't the biggest thing in
+this world," he told himself. "Still it is mighty satisfactory."</p>
+
+<p>Then there was another reason why Joe wanted to make good. Or, rather,
+there was another person he wanted to have hear of his success. I guess
+you know her name.</p>
+
+<p>And so the young pitcher kept on, struggling to perfect himself in the
+technicalities of the big<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span> game, playing his position for all it was
+capable of. As the season went on Joe's name figured more and more often
+in the papers.</p>
+
+<p>"He's got reporters on his staff!" sneered Willard.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I wish we all had," observed Manager Watson. "Publicity counts,
+and I want all I can get for my players. It's a wonder some of you
+fellows wouldn't have your name in the papers oftener."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't play to the grandstand," growled the grouchy pitcher.</p>
+
+<p>"Maybe it would help some if you did," the manager remarked quietly.</p>
+
+<p>The baseball practice and play went on. Joe was called on more often now
+to pitch a game, as Mr. Watson was kind enough to say some of the club's
+success was due to him, and while of course he was not considered the
+equal of the veteran pitchers, he was often referred to as a "comer."</p>
+
+<p>What Joe principally lacked was consistency. He could go in and pitch a
+brilliant game, but he could not often do it two days in succession. In
+this respect he was not unlike many celebrated young pitchers. Joe was
+not fully developed yet. He had not attained his full growth, and he had
+not the stamina and staying power that would come with added years. But
+he was acquiring<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span> experience and practice that would stand him in good
+stead, and his natural good health, and clean manner of living, were in
+his favor.</p>
+
+<p>The Cardinals had come back to St. Louis in high spirits over their
+splendid work on the road.</p>
+
+<p>"We ought to take at least three from the Phillies," said Boswell, for
+they were to play four games with the Quaker City nine. "That will help
+some."</p>
+
+<p>"If we win them," remarked Joe, with a smile.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, we're depending on you to help," retorted the trainer.</p>
+
+<p>Joe only smiled.</p>
+
+<p>There was some discussion in the papers as to who would pitch the first
+game against the Phillies, and it was not settled until a few minutes
+before the game was called, when Slim Cooney was sent in.</p>
+
+<p>"I guess Mr. Watson wants to make sure of at least the first one,"
+remarked Joe, as he sat on the bench.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, you'll get a chance," Boswell assured him. "You want to keep
+yourself right on edge. No telling when you'll be called on."</p>
+
+<p>It was a close game, and it was not until the eleventh inning that the
+home team pulled in the winning run. Then, with jubilant faces, the
+members hurried to the clubhouse.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span>"Whew!" whistled Cooney, as he swung his southpaw arm about. "I sure
+will be lame to-morrow."</p>
+
+<p>"You can have a rest," the manager informed him. "And be sure to have
+your arm massaged well. This is going to be a stiffer proposition than I
+thought."</p>
+
+<p>"Did you see him at the game?" asked Rad of Joe, as they walked along
+together.</p>
+
+<p>"See who?"</p>
+
+<p>"Shalleg."</p>
+
+<p>"No. Was he there?"</p>
+
+<p>"He sure was! I had a glimpse of him over in the bleachers when I ran
+after that long drive of Mitchell's. He was with that Wessel, but they
+didn't look my way."</p>
+
+<p>"Humph!" mused Joe. "Well, I suppose he's got a right to come to our
+games. If he bothers me, though, I'll take some action."</p>
+
+<p>"What?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know, yet. But I'm through standing for his nonsense."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't blame you."</p>
+
+<p>If Joe could have seen Shalleg and Wessel talking to a certain "tough"
+looking character, after the game, and at the same time motioning in his
+direction, he would have felt added uneasiness.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, let's go out to some summer garden and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span> cool off," proposed Rad
+after supper. It was a hot night, and sitting about the hotel was
+irksome.</p>
+
+<p>"All right," agreed Joe, and they started for a car. The same "tough"
+looking character who had been talking with Wessel and Shalleg took the
+car as well.</p>
+
+<p>Coming back, after sitting through an open-air moving picture
+performance, Joe and Rad found all the cars crowded. It was an open one,
+and Joe and Rad had given their seats to ladies, standing up and holding
+to the back of the seat in front of them. Just beyond Joe was a burly
+chap, the same one who had left the hotel at the time they did. He kept
+his seat.</p>
+
+<p>Then, as the car reached a certain corner, this man got up hurriedly.</p>
+
+<p>"Let me past! I want to get off!" he exclaimed, in unnecessarily rough
+tones to Joe, at the same time pressing hard against him.</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly," the young pitcher replied, removing his hands from the seat
+in front of him. At that moment the car stopped with a sudden jerk, and
+the fellow grabbed Joe by the right arm, twisting it so that the ball
+player cried out, involuntarily.</p>
+
+<p>"'Scuse me!" muttered the fellow. "I didn't mean to grab youse so hard.
+I didn't know youse was so tender," he sneered.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span>"Seems to me you could have grabbed the seat," objected Joe, wincing
+with pain.</p>
+
+<p>The other did not answer, but afterward Rad said he thought he saw him
+wink and grin maliciously.</p>
+
+<p>"Hurt much?" asked Rad of Joe, as the fellow got off and the car went on
+again.</p>
+
+<p>"It did for a minute. It's better now."</p>
+
+<p>"It looked to me as though he did that on purpose," said Rad.</p>
+
+<p>"He certainly was very clumsy," spoke one of the ladies to whom Joe and
+Rad had given their places. "He stepped on my foot, too."</p>
+
+<p>Joe worked his arm up and down to limber the muscles, and then thought
+little more about the incident. That is, until the next morning. He
+awoke with a sudden sense of pain, and as he stretched out his pitching
+arm, he cried out.</p>
+
+<p>"What's the matter?" asked Rad.</p>
+
+<p>"My arm's sore and lame!" complained Joe. "Say, this is tough luck! And
+maybe I'll get a chance to pitch to-day."</p>
+
+<p class="con"><a href="#contents">Back to contents</a></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span><a name="XXIV" id="XXIV"></a>CHAPTER XXIV<br />
+<br />
+<small>A TIGHT GAME</small></h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Rad</span> gave a look at his chum, and then, sliding out of bed, ran to the
+window.</p>
+
+<p>"No luck!" he exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p>"What do you mean?" asked Joe.</p>
+
+<p>"I mean it isn't raining."</p>
+
+<p>"What has that got to do with it?" the young pitcher wanted to know, as
+he moved his sore arm back and forth, a little frown of pain showing on
+his face at each flexing movement.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, if it rained we wouldn't have any game, and you'd get a chance to
+rest and get in shape. It's a dead cinch that you or Barter will be
+called on to-day. Willard has 'Charlie-horse,' and he can't pitch. So
+it's you or Barter."</p>
+
+<p>"Then I guess it will have to be Barter," said Joe with a grimace. "I'm
+afraid I can't go in. And yet I hate to give up and say I can't pitch.
+It's tough luck!"</p>
+
+<p>"Does it hurt much?" Rad wanted to know.</p>
+
+<p>"Enough, yes. I could stand it, ordinarily, but every time I move it
+will make it worse."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span>"Is it where that fellow pinched you, in getting off the car last
+night?"</p>
+
+<p>"He didn't pinch me," said Joe, "it was a deliberate twist."</p>
+
+<p>"Deliberate?" questioned Rad in surprise.</p>
+
+<p>"It sure was!" exclaimed the young pitcher decidedly. "The more I think
+of it the more I'm certain that he did it deliberately."</p>
+
+<p>"But why should he?" went on Rad. "You didn't prevent him from getting
+out of the car. There was plenty of room for him to pass. Why should he
+try to hurt you?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know," answered Joe, "unless he was put up to it by&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"By Jove! Shalleg! Yes!" cried Rad. "I believe you're right. Shalleg is
+jealous of you, and he wants to see you kept out of the game, just
+because he didn't make the nine. And I guess, too, he'd be glad to see
+the Cardinals lose just to make Manager Watson feel sore. That's it,
+Joe, as sure as you're a foot high!"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I don't know as he thought the Cardinals would lose because I
+didn't pitch," said Joe, slowly, "but he may have been set on me by
+Shalleg, out of spite. Well, there's no use thinking about that now.
+I've got to do something about this arm. I think I'll send word that I
+won't be in shape to-day."</p>
+
+<p>"No, don't you do it!" cried Rad. "Maybe<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span> we can fix up your arm. I know
+how to make a dandy liniment that my mother used on me when I was a
+small chap."</p>
+
+<p>"Liniment sounds good," said Joe with a smile. "But I guess I'd better
+have Boswell look at it. He's got some of his own&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, and then you'd have to admit that you're lame, and give the whole
+thing away!" interrupted Rad. "Don't do it. Leave it to me. There's some
+time before the game and I can give you a good rubbing, meanwhile. I'll
+send out to the drug store, get the stuff made up, and doctor you here.</p>
+
+<p>"There'll be no need to tell 'em anything about it if I can get you into
+shape, and then, if you're called on, you can go in and pitch. If they
+think you're crippled they won't give you a chance."</p>
+
+<p>"That's so," admitted Joe.</p>
+
+<p>"Still, you wouldn't go in if you didn't think you could do good work,"
+went on his chum.</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly I would not," agreed Joe. "That would be too much like
+throwing the game. Well, see what you can do, Rad. I'd like to get a
+good whack at the fellow who did this, though," he went on, as he worked
+his arm slowly back and forth.</p>
+
+<p>Rad rang for a messenger, and soon had in from a drug store a bottle of
+strong-smelling liniment, with which he proceeded to massage<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span> Joe's arm.
+He did it twice before the late breakfast to which they treated
+themselves, and once afterward, before it was time to report at the park
+for morning practice.</p>
+
+<p>"Does it feel better?" asked Rad, as his chum began to do some pitching
+work.</p>
+
+<p>"A whole lot, yes."</p>
+
+<p>It was impossible to wholly keep the little secret from Boswell. He
+watched Joe for a moment and then asked suddenly:</p>
+
+<p>"Arm stiff?"</p>
+
+<p>"A bit, yes," the pitcher was reluctantly obliged to admit.</p>
+
+<p>"You come in the clubhouse and have it attended to!" ordered the
+trainer. "I can't have you, or any of the boys, laid up."</p>
+
+<p>Then, as he got out his bottle of liniment, and looked at Joe's arm, one
+of the ligaments of which had been strained by the cruel twist, Boswell
+said, sniffing the air suspiciously:</p>
+
+<p>"You've been using some of your own stuff on that arm; haven't you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," admitted Joe.</p>
+
+<p>"I thought so. Well, maybe it's good, but my stuff is better. I'll soon
+have you in shape."</p>
+
+<p>He began a scientific massage of the sore arm, something of which, with
+all his good intentions, Rad was not capable. Joe felt the difference at
+once, and when he went back to practice he was almost himself again.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span>"How about you?" asked Rad, when he got the chance.</p>
+
+<p>"I guess I'll last out&mdash;if I have to pitch," replied Joe. "But it's not
+certain that I shall go in."</p>
+
+<p>"The Phillies are out to chew us up to-day," went on his chum. "It's
+going to be a tight game. Don't take any chances."</p>
+
+<p>"I won't; you may depend on that."</p>
+
+<p>There was a conference between Boswell and the manager.</p>
+
+<p>"Who shall I put in the box?" asked the latter, for he often depended in
+a great measure on the old trainer.</p>
+
+<p>"Let Barter open the ball, and see how he does. It's my notion that he
+won't stand the pace, for he's a little off his feed. But I want to take
+a little more care of Matson, and this will give him a couple of innings
+to catch up."</p>
+
+<p>"Matson!" cried the manager. "Has he&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Just a little soreness," said Boswell quickly, for that was all he
+imagined it to be. He had not asked Joe how it happened, for which the
+young pitcher was glad. "It'll be all right with a little more rubbing."
+He knew Joe's hope, and wanted to do all he could to further it.</p>
+
+<p>"All right. Announce Barter and Russell as the battery. And you look
+after Matson; will you?"</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span>"I sure will. I think Joe can pitch his head off if he gets the chance."</p>
+
+<p>"I hope he doesn't lose his head," commented the manager grimly. "It's
+going to be a hard game."</p>
+
+<p>Which was the opinion of more than one that day.</p>
+
+<p>Joe was taken in charge by Boswell, and in the clubhouse more attention
+was given to the sore arm.</p>
+
+<p>"How does it feel now?" asked the trainer, anxiously.</p>
+
+<p>"Fine!" replied Joe, and really the pain seemed all gone.</p>
+
+<p>"Then come out and warm up with me. You'll be needed, if I am any
+judge."</p>
+
+<p>To Joe's delight he found that he could send the ball in as swiftly as
+ever, and with good aim.</p>
+
+<p>"You'll do!" chuckled Boswell. "And just in time, too. There goes a home
+run, and Barter's been hit so hard that we'll have to take him out."</p>
+
+<p>It was the beginning of the third inning, and, sure enough, when it came
+the turn of the Cardinals to bat, a substitution was made, and the
+manager said:</p>
+
+<p>"Get ready, Joe. You'll pitch the rest of the game."</p>
+
+<p>Joe nodded, with a pleased smile, but, as he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span> raised his arm to bend it
+back and forth, a sharp spasm of pain shot through it.</p>
+
+<p>"Whew!" whistled Joe, under his breath. "I wonder if the effects of that
+liniment are wearing off? If they are, and that pain comes back, I'm
+done for, sure. What'll I do?"</p>
+
+<p>There was little time to think; less to do anything. Joe would not bat
+that inning, that was certain. He took a ball, and, nodding to Rad, who
+was not playing, went out to the "bull-pen."</p>
+
+<p>"What's up?" asked Rad, cautiously.</p>
+
+<p>"I felt a little twinge. I just want to try the different balls, and
+find which I can deliver to best advantage to myself. You catch."</p>
+
+<p>Rad nodded understandingly. To Joe's delight he found that in throwing
+his swift one, the spitter, and his curves he had no pain. But his
+celebrated fadeaway made him wince when he twisted his arm into the
+peculiar position necessary to get the desired effect.</p>
+
+<p>"Wow!" mused Joe. "I can't deliver that, it's a sure thing. Well, I'm
+not going to back out now. I'll stay in as long as I can. But it's going
+to hurt!"</p>
+
+<p>He shut his teeth, and, trying to keep away from his face the shadow of
+pain, threw his fadeaway to Rad again.</p>
+
+<p>The pain shot through his arm like a sharp knife.</p>
+
+<p>"But I'll do it!" thought Joe, grimly.</p>
+
+<p class="con"><a href="#contents">Back to contents</a></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span><a name="XXV" id="XXV"></a>CHAPTER XXV<br />
+<br />
+<small>IN NEW YORK</small></h2>
+
+
+<p>"<span class="smcap">That's</span> good," called Rad, as he caught a swift one. "You'll do, Joe."</p>
+
+<p>But only the young pitcher knew what an effort it was going to cost him
+to stay in that game. And stay he must.</p>
+
+<p>It was time for the Cardinals to take the field. The Phillies were two
+runs ahead, and that lead must be cut down, and at least one more tally
+made if the game were to be won.</p>
+
+<p>"Can we do it?" thought Joe. He felt the pain in his arm, but he ground
+his teeth and muttered: "I'm going to do it!"</p>
+
+<p>The play started off with the new pitcher in the box. The news went
+flashing over the telegraph wires from the reporters on the ground to
+the various bulletin boards through the country, and to the newspaper
+offices. Baseball Joe was pitching for the Cardinals.</p>
+
+<p>But Joe was not thinking of the fame that was his. All he thought of was
+the effort he must make to pitch a winning game.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span>Fortunately for him three of the weakest batters on the Phillies faced
+him that inning. Joe knew it, and so did the catcher, for he did not
+signal for the teasing fadeaway, for which Joe was very glad.</p>
+
+<p>Joe tried a couple of practice balls, but he did not slam them in with
+his usual force, at which the man in the mask wondered. He had not heard
+of Joe's lame arm, and he reasoned that his partner was holding back for
+reasons best known to himself.</p>
+
+<p>"Ball one!" yelled the umpire when Joe had made his first delivery to
+the batter. Joe winced, partly with pain, and partly because of the
+wasted effort that meant so much to him.</p>
+
+<p>"The next one won't be a ball!" he muttered fiercely. He sent in a
+puzzling curve that enticed the batter.</p>
+
+<p>"Strike one!"</p>
+
+<p>"That's better!" yelled Boswell, from the coaching line. "Serve 'em some
+more like that, Joe."</p>
+
+<p>And Joe did. No one but himself knew the effort it cost him, but he kept
+on when it was agony to deliver the ball. Perhaps he should not have
+done it, for he ran the chance of injuring himself for life, and also
+ran the chance of losing the game for his team.</p>
+
+<p>But Joe was young&mdash;he did not think of those<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span> things. He just
+pitched&mdash;not for nothing had he been dubbed "Baseball Joe."</p>
+
+<p>"You're out!" snapped the umpire to the first batter, who turned to the
+bench with a sickly grin.</p>
+
+<p>Joe faced the next one. To his alarm the catcher signalled for a
+fadeaway. Joe shook his head. He thought he could get away with a
+straight, swift one.</p>
+
+<p>But when the batter hit it Joe's heart was in his throat until he saw
+that it was a foul. By a desperate run Russell caught it. Joe pitched
+the next man out cleanly.</p>
+
+<p>"That's the way to do it!"</p>
+
+<p>"Joe, you're all right!"</p>
+
+<p>"Now we'll begin to do something!"</p>
+
+<p>Thus cried his teammates.</p>
+
+<p>And from then on the Phillies were allowed but one more tally. This
+could not be helped, for Joe was weakening, and could not control the
+ball as well as at first. But the run came in as much through errors on
+the part of his fellow players as from his own weakness.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile the Cardinals struck a batting streak, and made good, bunching
+their hits. The ending of the eighth inning saw the needed winning run
+go up in the frame of the Cardinals, and then it was Joe's task to hold
+the Phillies hitless in their half of the ninth.</p>
+
+<p>How he did it he did not know afterward.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span> His arm felt as though someone
+were jabbing it with a knife. He gritted his teeth harder and harder,
+and stuck it out. But oh! what a relief it was when the umpire, as the
+third batter finished at the plate, called:</p>
+
+<p>"You're out!"</p>
+
+<p>The Cardinals had won! Joe's work for the day was finished. But at what
+cost only he knew. Pure grit had pulled him through.</p>
+
+<p>"Say, did you pitch with that arm?" asked Boswell in surprise as he saw
+Joe under the shower in the clubhouse later.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I made a bluff at it," said Joe, grimly and gamely.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I'll be Charlie-horsed!" exclaimed the trainer. "Say, you won't
+do any more pitching for a week! I've got to take you in hand."</p>
+
+<p>Of course the story of Joe's grit got out, and the papers made much of
+how he had pitched through nearly a full game, winning it, too, which
+was more, with a badly hurt arm.</p>
+
+<p>"But don't you take any such chances as that again!" cried Manager
+Watson, half fiercely, when he heard about it. "I can't have my pitchers
+running risks like that. Pitchers cost too much money!"</p>
+
+<p>This was praise enough for Joe.</p>
+
+<p>And so he had a much-needed rest. Under the care of Boswell the arm
+healed rapidly,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span> though, for some time, Joe was not allowed to take part
+in any big games, for which he was sorry.</p>
+
+<p>Whether it was the example of Joe's grit, or because they had improved
+of late was not made manifest, but the Cardinals took three of the four
+games with the Phillies, which made Manager Watson gleeful.</p>
+
+<p>"They called us tail-enders!" he exulted, "but if we don't give the
+Giants a rub before the end of the season I'll miss my guess!"</p>
+
+<p>The Cardinals were on the move again. They went from city to city,
+playing the scheduled games, winning some and losing enough to keep them
+about in fifth place. Joe saw much of life, of the good and bad sides.
+Many temptations came to him, as they do to all young fellows, whether
+in the baseball game, or other business or pleasure. But Joe "passed
+them up." Perhaps the memory of a certain girl helped him. Often it
+does.</p>
+
+<p>The Cardinals came to New York, once more to do battle with the
+redoubtable Giants.</p>
+
+<p>"But you won't get a game!" declared Manager McGraw to "Muggins" Watson.</p>
+
+<p>"Won't we? I don't know about that. I'm going to spring my colt slab
+artist on you again."</p>
+
+<p>"Who, Matson?"</p>
+
+<p>"Um," said the manager of the Cardinals.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span>"Um," responded the manager of the Giants, laughing.</p>
+
+<p>St. Louis did get one game of a double-header, and Joe, whose arm was in
+perfect trim again, pitched. It was while he was on the mound that a
+certain man, reputed to be a scout for the Giants, was observed to be
+taking a place where he could watch the young pitcher to advantage.</p>
+
+<p>"Up to your old tricks; eh, Jack?" asked a man connected with the
+management of the Cardinals. "Who are you scouting for now?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, that little shortstop of yours looks pretty good to me," was the
+drawling answer. "What you s'pose you'll be asking for him."</p>
+
+<p>"He's not for sale. Now if you mentioned the centre fielder, Jack&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing doing. I've got one I'll sell you cheap."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't suppose you want to make an offer for Matson; do you?" asked
+the Cardinal man with a slow wink.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, no, we've got all the pitchers we can use," the Giant scout
+responded quickly. It is thus that their kind endeavor to deceive one
+another.</p>
+
+<p>But, as the game went on, it might have been observed that the Giant
+scout changed his position, where he could observe Joe in action from
+another angle.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span>"Didn't see anything of Shalleg since we struck Manhattan; did you,
+Joe?" asked Rad, as he and his chum, taking advantage of a rainy day in
+New York, were paying a visit to the Museum of Natural History.</p>
+
+<p>"No," replied Joe, pausing in front of a glass case containing an
+immense walrus. "I don't want to see him, either. I'm sure he planned to
+do me some harm, and I'm almost positive that some of his tools had to
+do with my sore arm. But I can't prove it."</p>
+
+<p>"That's the trouble," admitted Rad. "Well, come on, I want to see that
+model of the big whale. They say it's quite a sight."</p>
+
+<p>The rain prevented games for three days, and the players were getting a
+bit "stale" with nothing to do. Then the sun came out, the grounds dried
+up and the series was resumed. But the Cardinals were not very lucky.</p>
+
+<p>Philadelphia was the next stopping place, and there, once again, the
+Cardinals proved themselves the masters of the Quakers. They took three
+games straight, and sweetened up their average wonderfully, being only a
+game and a half behind the fourth club.</p>
+
+<p>"If we can only keep up the pace!" said the manager, wistfully. "Joe,
+are you going to help us do it?"</p>
+
+<p>"I sure am!" exclaimed the young pitcher.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span>There was one more game to play with the Phillies. The evening before it
+was scheduled, which would close their stay in the Quaker City, Joe left
+the hotel, and strolled down toward the Delaware River. He intended to
+take the ferry over to Camden, in New Jersey, for a friend of his mother
+lived there, and he had promised to call on her.</p>
+
+<p>Joe did not notice that, as he left the hotel, he was closely followed
+by a man who walked and acted like Wessel. But the man wore a heavy
+beard, and Wessel, the young pitcher remembered was usually
+smooth-shaven.</p>
+
+<p>But Joe did not notice. If he had perhaps he would have seen that the
+beard was false, though unusually well adjusted.</p>
+
+<p>Joe turned his steps toward the river front. It was a dark night, for
+the sky was cloudy and it looked like rain.</p>
+
+<p>Joe just missed one ferryboat, and, as there would be some little time
+before the other left, he strolled along the water front, looking at
+what few sights there were. Before he realized it, he had gone farther
+than he intended. He found himself in a rather lonely neighborhood, and,
+as he turned back a bearded man, who had been walking behind the young
+pitcher for some time, stepped close to him.</p>
+
+<p>"I beg your pardon," the man began, speaking<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span> as though he had a heavy
+cold, "but could you direct me to the Reading Terminal?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said Joe, who had a good sense of direction, and had gotten the
+"lay of the land" pretty well fixed in his mind. "Let's see now&mdash;how I
+can best direct you?"</p>
+
+<p>He thought for a moment. By going a little farther away from the ferry
+he could put the stranger on a thoroughfare that would be more direct
+than traveling back the way he had come.</p>
+
+<p>"If you wouldn't mind walking along a little way," said the man eagerly.
+"I'm a stranger here, and&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I'll go with you," offered Joe, good-naturedly. "I'm not in any
+hurry."</p>
+
+<p>Be careful, Joe! Be careful!</p>
+
+<p class="con"><a href="#contents">Back to contents</a></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span><a name="XXVI" id="XXVI"></a>CHAPTER XXVI<br />
+<br />
+<small>ADRIFT</small></h2>
+
+
+<p>"<span class="smcap">There</span>," said Baseball Joe, coming to a halt at a dark street corner,
+the stranger close beside him, "if you go up that way, and turn as I
+told you to, it will take you directly to the Reading Terminal."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know how to thank you," mumbled the other. He seemed to be
+fumbling in his pocket. "I'll give you my card," he went on. "If you are
+ever in San Francisco&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>But it was not a card that he pulled from the inner pocket of his coat.
+It was a rag, that bore a strange, faint odor. Joe stepped back, but not
+quickly enough. He suspected something wrong, but he was too late.</p>
+
+<p>An instant later the stranger had thrown one powerful arm about
+the young pitcher, and, with his other hand he pressed the
+chloroform-saturated rag to Joe's nose and mouth.</p>
+
+<p>Joe tried to cry out, and struggled to free himself. But his senses
+seemed leaving him under the influence of the powerful drug.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span>At that moment, as though it had been timing itself to the movements of
+the man who had followed Joe, there drove up a large ramshackle cab, and
+out of it jumped two men.</p>
+
+<p>"Did you get him, Wes?" one asked eagerly.</p>
+
+<p>"I sure did. Here, help me. He's gone off. Get him into the cab."</p>
+
+<p>Poor Joe's senses had all but left him. He was an inert mass, but he
+could hear faintly, and he recognized the voice of Shalleg.</p>
+
+<p>He tried to rouse himself, but it was as though he were in a heavy
+sleep, or stupor. He felt himself being lifted into a cab. The door
+slammed shut, and then he was rattled away over the cobbles.</p>
+
+<p>"I wonder what they're going to do with me?" Joe thought. He had enough
+of his brain in working order to do that. Once more he tried to
+struggle.</p>
+
+<p>"Better tie him up," suggested a voice he now recognized as that of the
+fellow who had twisted his arm on the street car.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I guess we had," agreed Shalleg. "And then to the Delaware with
+him!"</p>
+
+<p>Joe was too weak, and too much under the influence of the drug, to care
+greatly what they did with him&mdash;that is, in a sense, though a feeling of
+terror took possession of him at the words.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span>"The river!" gasped Wessel. "I thought you said there'd be no violence,
+Shalleg."</p>
+
+<p>"And there won't!" promised the leader of the conspirators.</p>
+
+<p>"But you said to tie him, and then to the river with him."</p>
+
+<p>"You don't s'pose I'm going to chuck him in; do you?" was the angry
+question.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I'm not! I'm just going to put him out of the way for a time. I
+told him I'd get even with him for not helping me out of a hole, and
+then for spreading reports about me, that kept me from getting a place
+on the Cardinals, as well as on any other team. I told him I'd fix him!"</p>
+
+<p>So, this was the secret of Shalleg's animosity! He had a fancied
+grievance against Joe, and was taking this means of gratifying his
+passion for revenge. Joe, dimly hearing, understood now. He longed to be
+able to speak, to assure Shalleg that he was all wrong, but they had
+bound a rag about his mouth, and he could not utter a sound, even had
+not the chloroform held his speech in check.</p>
+
+<p>"Pass over those ropes," directed Shalleg to his cronies in the cab,
+which lurched and swayed over the rough stones. The cab held four, on a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span>
+pinch, and Joe was held and supported by one of the men. The gag in the
+young pitcher's mouth was made tighter, and ropes were passed about his
+arms and feet. He could not move.</p>
+
+<p>"What's the game?" asked Wessel, as the trussing-up was finished.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I don't want to do him any real harm," growled Shalleg, "but I'm
+going to put him out of the game, just as I was kept out of it by his
+tattling tongue. I'm going to make him fail to show up to-morrow, and
+the next day, too, maybe. That'll put a crimp in his record, and in the
+Cardinals', too, for he's been doing good work for them. I'll say that
+about him, much as I hate him!"</p>
+
+<p>Joe heard this plot against him, heard it dimly, through his half-numbed
+senses, and tried to struggle free from his bonds. But he could not.</p>
+
+<p>On rattled the cab. Joe could not tell in which direction they were
+going, but he was sure it was along the lonely river front. The effects
+of the chloroform were wearing off, but the gag kept him silent, and the
+ropes bound his hands and feet.</p>
+
+<p>"Have any trouble trailing him?" asked Shalleg of Wessel, who had
+disguised himself with a false beard.</p>
+
+<p>"Not a bit," was the answer. "It was pie! I pretended I had lost my
+way."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span>The men laughed. Either they thought Joe was still incapable of hearing
+them, or they did not care if their identity and plans were known.</p>
+
+<p>A multitude of thoughts rushed through Joe's head. He did not exactly
+understand what the men were going to do with him. They had spoken of
+taking him to the river. Perhaps they meant to keep him prisoner on a
+boat until his contract with the St. Louis team would be void, because
+of his non-appearance. And Joe knew how hard it would be to get back in
+the game after that.</p>
+
+<p>True, he could explain how it had happened, and he felt sure he would
+not be blamed. But when would he get a chance to make explanations? And
+there was the game to-morrow! He knew he would be called on to pitch,
+for Mr. Watson had practically told him so. And Joe would not be on
+hand.</p>
+
+<p>"Aren't we 'most there?" asked Wessel.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," answered Shalleg, shortly.</p>
+
+<p>"What are we to do?" asked the other.</p>
+
+<p>"You'll know soon enough," was the half-growled reply.</p>
+
+<p>The cab rattled on. Then it came to a stop. Joe could smell the dampness
+of the river, and he realized that the next act in the episode was about
+to be played.</p>
+
+<p>He felt himself being lifted out of the cab, and he had a glimpse of a
+street, but it was too dark<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span> to recognize where it was, and Joe was not
+well enough acquainted with Philadelphia to know the neighborhood. Then
+a handkerchief was bound over his eyes, and he was in total darkness.</p>
+
+<p>He heard whispered words between Shalleg and the driver of the cab, but
+could not make out what they were. Then the vehicle rattled off.</p>
+
+<p>"Catch hold of him now," directed Shalleg to his companions. "We'll
+carry him down to the river."</p>
+
+<p>"To the river!" objected Wessel, and Joe felt a shiver go through him.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, to the boat then!" snapped Shalleg. "Don't talk so much."</p>
+
+<p>Joe felt himself being carried along, and, a little later, he was laid
+down on what he felt was the bottom of a boat. A moment later he could
+tell by the motion of the craft that he was adrift on the Delaware.</p>
+
+<p class="con"><a href="#contents">Back to contents</a></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span><a name="XXVII" id="XXVII"></a>CHAPTER XXVII<br />
+<br />
+<small>THE RESCUE</small></h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">For</span> a few moments Joe was in a sort of daze. He was extremely
+uncomfortable, lying on the hard bottom of the boat, and there seemed to
+be rough water, for the craft swayed, and bobbed up and down.</p>
+
+<p>Joe wondered if he was alone, for he did not hear the noise of oars in
+the locks, nor did he catch the voices of the three rascals.</p>
+
+<p>But it soon developed that they were with him, for, presently Wessel
+asked:</p>
+
+<p>"Where are we going with him?"</p>
+
+<p>"Keep still!" snapped Shalleg in a tense whisper. "Do you want someone
+to hear us?"</p>
+
+<p>"Who, him?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, someone on these ships. We're right alongside of 'em yet. Keep
+still; can't you!"</p>
+
+<p>Wessel subsided, but one of Joe's questions was answered. There were
+other problems yet unsolved, though. What were they going to do with
+him? He could only wait and learn.</p>
+
+<p>The bandage was still over his eyes, and he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span> tried, by wrinkling the
+skin of his forehead, to work it loose. But he could not succeed. He
+wished he could have some glimpse, even a faint one, in the darkness, of
+where he was, though perhaps it would have done him little good.</p>
+
+<p>"Take the oars now," directed Shalleg, after a pause. "I guess it's safe
+to row out a bit. There aren't so many craft here now. But go easy."</p>
+
+<p>"Hadn't we better show a light?" asked the man who had twisted Joe's
+arm. "We might be run down!"</p>
+
+<p>"Light nothing!" exclaimed Shalleg, who now spoke somewhat above a
+whisper. "I don't want some police launch poking her nose up here. It's
+light enough for us to see to get out of the way if anything comes
+along. I'm not going to answer any hails."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, all right," was the answer.</p>
+
+<p>Joe's head was beginning to clear itself from the fumes of the
+chloroform, and he could think more clearly. He wondered more and more
+what his fate was to be. Evidently the men were taking him somewhere in
+a rowboat. But whether he was to be taken wherever they were going, in
+this small craft, or whether it was being used to transport them to a
+larger boat, he could not, of course, determine.</p>
+
+<p>The men rowed on for some time in silence.</p>
+
+<p>"It's getting late," ventured Wessel at length.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span>"Not late enough, though," growled Shalleg.</p>
+
+<p>Joe went over, in his mind, all the events that had been crowded into
+the last few hours. He had told Rad that he was going to see his
+mother's friend in Camden, but had given no address.</p>
+
+<p>"They won't know but what I'm staying there all night," he reasoned.
+"And they won't start to search for me until some time to-morrow. When I
+don't show up at the game they'll think it's queer, and I suppose
+they'll fine me. I wouldn't mind that if they only come and find me. But
+how can they do it? There isn't a clue they could follow, as far as I
+know. Not one!"</p>
+
+<p>He tried to think of some means by which he could be traced, and rescued
+by his friends, but he could imagine none. No one who knew him had seen
+him come down to the ferry, or walk through the deserted neighborhood.
+And, as far as he knew, no one had seen the bearded stranger accost him.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll just have disappeared&mdash;that's all," mused poor Joe, lying on the
+hard and uncomfortable bottom of the boat.</p>
+
+<p>For some time longer the three men, or rather two of them, rowed on,
+paying no attention to Joe. Then Shalleg spoke.</p>
+
+<p>"I guess we're far enough down the river," he said. "We can go ashore
+now."</p>
+
+<p>"And take him with us?" asked Wessel.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, you don't think I'm going to chuck<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span> him overboard; do you?"
+demanded Shalleg. "I told you I wasn't going to do anything violent."</p>
+
+<p>"But what are you going to do?"</p>
+
+<p>"Wait, and you'll see," was the rather unsatisfactory answer.</p>
+
+<p>Joe wished it was settled. He, too, was wondering.</p>
+
+<p>The course of the boat seemed changed. By the motion the men were rowing
+across a choppy current, probably toward shore. Joe found this to be so,
+a little later, for the boat's side grated against what was probably a
+wooden pier.</p>
+
+<p>"Light the lantern," directed Shalleg.</p>
+
+<p>"But I thought you didn't want to be seen," objected Wessel.</p>
+
+<p>"Do as I tell you," was the sharp rejoinder. "We're not going to be
+seen. We're going to leave the boat."</p>
+
+<p>"And leave him in it?" asked the other man.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I'm going to turn him adrift down the river," went on the chief
+conspirator. "I'll stick a light up, though, so he won't be run down. I
+don't wish him that harm."</p>
+
+<p>"Are you going to leave him tied?" Wessel wanted to know.</p>
+
+<p>"I sure am!" was the rejoinder. "Think I want him giving the alarm, and
+having us nabbed? Not much!"</p>
+
+<p>Dimly, from beneath the handkerchief over his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span> eyes, Joe saw the flash
+as a match was struck, and the lantern lighted. Then he heard it being
+lashed to some upright in the boat. A little later Joe felt the craft in
+which he lay being shoved out into the stream, and then he realized that
+he was alone, drifting down the Delaware, toward the bay, and tied hand
+and foot, as well as being gagged. He was practically helpless.</p>
+
+<p>"There, I guess that'll teach him not to meddle in my affairs any more!"
+said Shalleg bitterly. Then Joe heard no more, save the lapping of the
+waves against the side of the craft.</p>
+
+<p>For a time his senses seemed to leave him under the terrible strain, and
+when he again was in possession of his faculties he could not tell how
+long he had been drifting alone, nor had he any idea of the time, save
+that it was still night.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I've got to do something!" decided Joe. "I've got to try and get
+rid of this gag, and yell for help, and to do that I've got to have the
+use of my hands."</p>
+
+<p>Then he began to struggle, but the men who had trussed him up had done
+their evil work well, and he only cut his wrists on the cruel bonds. He
+was on his back, and he wished there was some rough projection in the
+bottom of the boat, against which he could rub his rope-entangled
+wrists. But there was none.</p>
+
+<p>How the hours of darkness passed Joe never knew. He was thankful for one
+thing&mdash;that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</a></span> there was a light showing in his boat, for he would not be
+run down in the darkness by some steamer, or motor craft. By daylight he
+hoped the drifting boat might be seen, and picked up. Then he would be
+rescued. Even now, if he could only have called, he might have been
+saved.</p>
+
+<p>Gradually Joe became aware that morning had come. He could see a film of
+light beneath the bandage over his eyes. The boat was bobbing up and
+down more violently now.</p>
+
+<p>"I must be far down the bay," thought Joe.</p>
+
+<p>He was cramped, tired, and almost parched for a drink. He had dozed
+fitfully through the night, and his eyes smarted and burned under the
+bandage.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly he heard voices close at hand, above the puffing of a
+motorboat.</p>
+
+<p>"Look there!" someone exclaimed. "A boat is adrift. Maybe we can work
+that into the film."</p>
+
+<p>"Maybe," assented another voice. "Let's go over and see, anyhow. We want
+this reel to be a good one."</p>
+
+<p>Dimly Joe wondered what the words meant. He heard the voices, and the
+puffing of the motor coming nearer. Then the latter sound ceased. Some
+craft bumped gently against his, and a man cried:</p>
+
+<p>"Someone is in this boat!"</p>
+
+<p class="con"><a href="#contents">Back to contents</a></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229]</a></span><a name="XXVIII" id="XXVIII"></a>CHAPTER XXVIII<br />
+<br />
+<small>MOVING PICTURES</small></h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">For</span> a moment silence followed the announcement that meant so much to
+Joe. He could hear murmurs of surprise, and the violent motion of the
+craft in which he lay, bound helpless and unseeing, told him that the
+work of rescue was under way. The motor boat, he reflected, must be
+making fast to the other. The bandage over Joe's eyes prevented him from
+seeing what went on. Then came a series of exclamations and questions,
+and, to Joe's surprise, the voices of women and girls mingled with those
+of men.</p>
+
+<p>"My, look, Jackson!" a man's voice exclaimed. "He's bound, and gagged.
+There's been some crime here!"</p>
+
+<p>"You're right. We must get him aboard our boat."</p>
+
+<p>Joe could tell, by the motion of the boat which contained him, that some
+of the rescue party were getting into it to aid him. Then he felt the
+bandage being taken from his eyes, and the gag from his mouth.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[230]</a></span>"Hand me a knife, somebody!" called a man. "I'll cut these ropes."</p>
+
+<p>Joe opened his eyes, and closed them again with a feeling of pain. The
+sudden light of a bright, sunny morning was too much for him.</p>
+
+<p>"He's alive, anyhow," a girl's voice said.</p>
+
+<p>Joe half opened his eyes this time, and saw a strange sight. Alongside
+his boat was a cabin motor craft, and on the rear deck he could see
+gathered a number of men, women and girls. What took Joe's attention
+next was a queer oblong box, with a crank at one side, and a tube
+projecting from it, mounted on a tripod. Then, as his eyes became more
+accustomed to the light, Joe saw bending over him in the boat, two men.</p>
+
+<p>One of them had a knife, with which he quickly cut the ropes that bound
+Joe's arms and feet. It was a great relief.</p>
+
+<p>He sat up and looked about him. The motor boat was a large and fine one,
+and was slowly drifting down into Delaware Bay, for Joe could see a vast
+stretch of water on all sides.</p>
+
+<p>"Too bad we can't work this rescue into a scene," spoke one of the men
+on the motor craft.</p>
+
+<p>Joe looked at him wonderingly, and then at the machine on the bow of the
+boat. All at once he realized what it was&mdash;a moving picture camera. He
+had seen them before.</p>
+
+<p>"Are you folks in the movies?" he asked as he stood up, with the help of
+the two men.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</a></span>"That's what we are," was the answer. "We came out early this morning to
+do a bit of 'water stuff,' when we saw your boat adrift. We put over to
+it, and were surprised to see you tied in it. Can you tell us what
+happened?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," answered Joe, "I was practically kidnapped!"</p>
+
+<p>"Come aboard, and have some coffee," urged a motherly-looking woman of
+the party.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, do," added another member of the company. "We have just had
+breakfast."</p>
+
+<p>The aroma of coffee was grateful to Joe, and soon he was aboard the
+motorboat, sipping a steaming cup.</p>
+
+<p>"Kidnapped; eh?" remarked one of the men. "Then we'd better save that
+boat for you. It will be a clue to those who did it."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I know who did it, all right," answered Joe, who was rapidly
+feeling more like himself. "I don't need the boat for evidence. But,
+since you have been so kind to me, I wish you'd do one thing more."</p>
+
+<p>"Name it," promptly said the man who seemed to be in charge of the
+company.</p>
+
+<p>"Get me somewhere so I can send word to Philadelphia&mdash;to Manager Watson
+of the St. Louis Cardinals. I want to explain what happened, so he won't
+expect me in the game to-day."</p>
+
+<p>"Are you a member of the St. Louis team?" asked one of the men,
+quickly.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</a></span>"One of the pitchers&mdash;my name is Matson."</p>
+
+<p>The two leading men of the company looked at each other in an odd
+manner.</p>
+
+<p>"It couldn't have happened better; could it, Harry?" one asked.</p>
+
+<p>Our hero was a trifle mystified until the man called Harry explained.</p>
+
+<p>"You see, it's this way," he said. "My name is Harry Kirk, and this is
+James Morton," nodding toward the other man. "We manage a moving picture
+company, most of whom you now see," and he indicated those about him.
+"We have been doing a variety of stuff, and we want to get some baseball
+pictures. We've been trying to induce some of the big teams to play an
+exhibition game for us, but so far we haven't been successful. Now if
+you would use your influence with your manager, and he could induce some
+other team to play a short game, why we'd be ever so much obliged."</p>
+
+<p>"Of course I'll do all I can!" cried Joe. "I can't thank you enough for
+your rescue of me, and the least I could do would be to help you out!
+I'm pretty sure I can induce Mr. Watson to let his team give an
+exhibition, anyhow."</p>
+
+<p>"That's all we want&mdash;an opening wedge," said Mr. Kirk, "but we couldn't
+seem to get it. Our finding of you was providential."</p>
+
+<p>"It was for me, anyhow," said Joe. "I don't<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[233]</a></span> know what might have
+happened to me if I had drifted much farther."</p>
+
+<p>Joe explained how it had happened, and the unreasoning rage of Shalleg
+toward him.</p>
+
+<p>"He ought to be sent to jail for life, to do such a thing as that!"
+burst out Mr. Kirk. "You'll inform the police; won't you?"</p>
+
+<p>"I think I had better," said Joe, thoughtfully.</p>
+
+<p>The motor began its throbbing, and the big boat cut through the water,
+towing the small craft, in which Joe had spent so many uncomfortable
+hours.</p>
+
+<p>The young pitcher was himself again, thanks to a good breakfast, and
+when the dock was reached was able to talk to Manager Watson over the
+telephone. It was then nearly noon, and Joe was in no shape to get in
+the game that day.</p>
+
+<p>To say that the news he gave the manager astonished Mr. Watson is
+putting it mildly.</p>
+
+<p>"You stay where you are," directed his chief. "I'll send someone down to
+see you, or come myself. We'll get after this Shalleg and his gang. This
+has gone far enough!"</p>
+
+<p>"What about the game to-day?" asked Joe.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't you worry about that. We'll beat the Phillies anyhow, though I
+was counting on you, Joe. But don't worry."</p>
+
+<p class="con"><a href="#contents">Back to contents</a></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[234]</a></span><a name="XXIX" id="XXIX"></a>CHAPTER XXIX<br />
+<br />
+<small>SHALLEG'S DOWNFALL</small></h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Plans</span> to capture Shalleg and his cronies were carefully made, but were
+unsuccessful, for, it appeared, the scoundrel and his cronies had fled
+after putting Joe into the boat.</p>
+
+<p>The moving picture people readily agreed to keep silent about the
+affair, and Manager Watson said he would explain Joe's absence from the
+game in a way that would disarm suspicion.</p>
+
+<p>Joe soon recovered from his unpleasant and dangerous experience and,
+true to his promise, used his influence to induce Mr. Watson to play an
+exhibition game for the moving picture people.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course we'll do it!" the manager exclaimed. "That would be small pay
+for what they did for you. I'll see if we can't play the Phillies right
+here. Of course it will have to be arranged with the high moguls, but I
+guess it can be."</p>
+
+<p>And it was. The game was not to count in the series, for some changes
+and new rules had to be adopted to make it possible to get it within the
+scope of the moving picture cameras. And<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[235]</a></span> the picture managers agreed to
+pay a sum that made it worth while for the players, Joe included, to put
+up a good game of ball.</p>
+
+<p>To his delight Joe was selected to pitch for his side, and fully himself
+again, he "put up a corking good game," to quote his friend Rad.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I'm not sorry to be leaving Philadelphia," remarked Joe to Rad,
+when their engagement in the Quaker City was over, and they were to go
+on to Brooklyn. "I always have a feeling that Shalleg will show up
+again."</p>
+
+<p>"I only wish he would!" exclaimed Rad.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't!" said Joe, quickly.</p>
+
+<p>"I mean and be captured," his chum added, quickly.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, that's different," laughed Joe.</p>
+
+<p>Taking three of the four games from the Superbas, two of them on the
+same day, in a double-header, the St. Louis team added to their own
+prestige, and, incidentally, to their standing in the league, gaining
+fourth place.</p>
+
+<p>"I think we have a good chance of landing third place," the manager
+exulted when they started West. They were to play Chicago in their home
+town, then work their way to New York for a final set-to with the
+Giants, and end the season on Robison Field.</p>
+
+<p>And in St. Louis something happened that, for a long time, took Shalleg
+out of Joe's path.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[236]</a></span>The first game with Chicago had been a hard one, but by dint of hard
+work, and good pitching (Joe going in at the fourth inning to replace
+Barter), the Cardinals won.</p>
+
+<p>"And we'll do the same to-morrow," good-naturedly boasted Manager
+Watson, to Mr. Mandell of the Cubs.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, maybe you will, but I have a good chance to put it all over you,"
+said the Chicago manager, and there was that in his manner which caused
+Mr. Watson to ask quickly:</p>
+
+<p>"What do you mean?"</p>
+
+<p>"Just this. How much chance do you think you'd have to win if our men
+knew your battery signals?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not much, of course, but the thing is impossible!"</p>
+
+<p>"Is it?" asked the other, quietly. "Not so impossible as you suppose. I
+have just received an offer to have the signals disclosed to me before
+the game to-morrow."</p>
+
+<p>"By whom?" cried Manager Watson. "If any of my players is trying to
+throw the team&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Go easy," advised the other with a smile. "It's nothing like that. The
+offer came from a man, who, I understand, tried unsuccessfully to become
+a member of the Cardinals."</p>
+
+<p>"Not Shalleg!"</p>
+
+<p>"That's who it was."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[237]</a></span>"Where can I get him?" asked Mr. Watson, eagerly. "He's wanted on a good
+deal more serious charge than that. Where can I get him?"</p>
+
+<p>"I thought you might want to see him," said the Chicago manager, "so I
+put him off. I've made an appointment with him&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Which the police and I will keep!" interrupted Mr. Watson.</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps that would be better," agreed Mr. Mandell.</p>
+
+<p>So the plot for the downfall of Shalleg was laid. It appeared that he
+had come back to St. Louis, and, by dint of careful watching, and by his
+knowledge of the game, he had managed to steal the signal system used
+between the Cardinal pitchers and catchers. This he proposed disclosing
+to the Chicago team, but of course the manager would have nothing to do
+with the scheme.</p>
+
+<p>Shalleg had named a low resort for the transfer of the information he
+possessed, he to receive in exchange a sum of money. He was in desperate
+straits, it appeared.</p>
+
+<p>The Cubs' manager, Joe and Mr. Watson, with a detective, went to the
+appointed meeting place. The manager went in alone, but the others were
+hiding, in readiness to enter at a signal.</p>
+
+<p>"Did you bring the money?" asked Shalleg, eagerly, as he saw the man
+with whom he hoped to make a criminal "deal."</p>
+
+<p>"I have the money, yes," was the cool answer.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[238]</a></span> "Are you prepared to
+disclose to me the Cardinal battery signals?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, but don't speak so loud, someone might hear you!" whined Shalleg.</p>
+
+<p>"That's just what I want!" cried the manager in loud tones, and that was
+the signal for the officer to come in. He, Joe and Mr. Watson had heard
+enough to convict Shalleg.</p>
+
+<p>"Ha! A trap!" cried the released player, as he saw them close in on him.
+He made a dash to get away, but, after a brief struggle, the detective
+overpowered him, for Shalleg's manner of life was not such as to make
+him a fighter.</p>
+
+<p>He saw that it was no use to bluff and bluster, and, his nerve
+completely gone, he made a full confession.</p>
+
+<p>After his unsuccessful attempt to borrow money of Joe, he really became
+imbued with the idea that our hero had injured him, and was spreading
+false reports about him. So he set out to revenge himself on Joe.</p>
+
+<p>It was Shalleg who induced Wessel to pick a quarrel with Joe, hoping to
+disable the pitcher so he could not play ball that season. It was a mean
+revenge to plot. And it was Shalleg's idea, in luring Joe to the lonely
+house, on the plea of helping Rad, to involve him in a fight that might
+disable, or disgrace, him so that he would have to resign from the
+Cardinals. Likewise it was a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[239]</a></span> tool of Shalleg's who kept track of Joe,
+who boarded the same car as did our hero, and who so cruelly twisted his
+arm, hoping to put him out of the game.</p>
+
+<p>Shalleg denied having induced Wessel to enter Joe's room that night in
+question, but his denial can be taken for what it was worth. As to
+Weasel's object, it could only be guessed at. It may have been robbery,
+or some worse crime.</p>
+
+<p>And then, when all else failed, Shalleg tried the desperate plan of
+kidnapping Joe, but, as he explained, he did not really intend bodily
+harm. And perhaps he did not. He was a weak and criminally bad man, but
+perhaps there was a limit.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, this is the end!" the former ball player said, bitterly, as he
+was handcuffed, and led away. "I might have known better."</p>
+
+<p>Some time afterward, when the ball season had closed, Shalleg was tried
+on the charge of mistreating Joe, and was convicted, being sentenced to
+a long term. His cronies were not caught, but as they were only tools
+for Shalleg no one cared very much whether or not they were punished.</p>
+
+<p class="con"><a href="#contents">Back to contents</a></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[240]</a></span><a name="XXX" id="XXX"></a>CHAPTER XXX<br />
+<br />
+<small>THE HARDEST BATTLE</small></h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Filled</span> to overflowing were the big bleachers. Crowded were the
+grandstands. Above the noise made by the incoming elevated trains, and
+the tramp of thousands of feet along the boarded run-ways leading to the
+big concrete Brush Stadium at the Polo Grounds, could be heard the
+shrill voices of the vendors of peanuts, bottled ginger ale and ice
+cream cones.</p>
+
+<p>Out on the perfect diamond, laid out as though with rule and compass,
+men in white and other men in darker uniforms were practicing. Balls
+were being caught, other balls were being batted.</p>
+
+<p>It was a sunny, perfect day, hot enough to make fast playing possible,
+and yet with a refreshing breeze.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, Joe, are we going to win?" asked Rad, as he and his chum went to
+the bench after their warm-up work.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know," answered the young pitcher slowly. "They're a hard team
+to beat."</p>
+
+<p>It was the final game between the Giants and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[241]</a></span> the Cardinals. To win it
+meant for the St. Louis team that they would reach third place. And if
+they did get third position, it was practically certain that they could
+keep it, for their closing games in St. Louis were with the tail-enders
+of the league.</p>
+
+<p>"Are you going to pitch, Joe?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know that, either. Haven't heard yet," was the answer.</p>
+
+<p>Just then a messenger came up to Joe.</p>
+
+<p>"There's somebody in that box," he said, indicating one low down, and
+just back of home plate, "who wants to speak to you."</p>
+
+<p>Joe looked around, and a delighted look came over his face as he saw his
+father and mother, Clara, and one other.</p>
+
+<p>"Mabel!" exclaimed Joe, and then he hurried over.</p>
+
+<p>"Say, this is great!" he cried, with sparkling eyes. "I didn't know you
+folks were coming," and he kissed his mother and sister, and wished&mdash;but
+there! I said I wouldn't tell secrets.</p>
+
+<p>"Your father found he had some business in New York," explained Mrs.
+Matson, "so we thought we would combine pleasure with it, and see you
+play."</p>
+
+<p>"And they looked me up, and brought me along," added Mabel. "I just
+happened to be in town. Now we want to see you win, Joe!"</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[242]</a></span>"I don't even know that I'll play," he said, wistfully.</p>
+
+<p>Joe felt that he could bide his time, and yet he did long to be the one
+to open the game, as it was an important one, and a record-breaking
+crowd was on hand to see it.</p>
+
+<p>But it was evident that Manager Watson's choice of a pitcher must be
+changed. It needed but two innings to demonstrate that, for the Giants
+got four hits and three runs off Slim Cooney, who, most decidedly, was
+not in form.</p>
+
+<p>The substitution of a batter was made, and the manager nodded at Joe.</p>
+
+<p>"You'll pitch!" he said, grimly. "And I want you to win!"</p>
+
+<p>"And I want to," replied Joe, as he thought of those in the box watching
+him.</p>
+
+<p>It was to be Baseball Joe's hardest battle. Opposed to him on the mound
+for the Giants was a pitcher of world-wide fame, a veteran, well-nigh
+peerless, who had won many a hard-fought game.</p>
+
+<p>I might describe that game to you in detail, but I will confine myself
+to Joe's efforts, since it is in him we are most interested. I might
+tell of the desperate chances the Cardinals took to gain runs, and of
+the exceptionally good stick work they did, against the redoubtable
+pitcher of the Giants.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[243]</a></span>For a time this pitcher held his opponents to scattering hits. Then, for
+a fatal moment, he went up in the air. It was a break that was at once
+taken advantage of by the Cardinals. They slammed out two terrific hits,
+and, as there were men on bases, the most was made of them. Two wild
+throws, something exceptional for the Giants, added to the luck, and
+when the excitement was over the Cardinals had tied the game.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, wow!"</p>
+
+<p>"Now, we've got 'em going!"</p>
+
+<p>"Only one run to win, boys!"</p>
+
+<p>"Hold 'em down, Joe!"</p>
+
+<p>Thus came the wild cries from the stands. Excitement was at its height.</p>
+
+<p>There was a hasty consultation between the peerless pitcher and the
+veteran catcher. They had gone up in the air, but now they were down to
+earth again. From then on, until the beginning of the ninth inning, the
+Cardinals did not cross home plate, and they got very few hits. It was a
+marvelous exhibition of ball twirling.</p>
+
+<p>But if the Giant pitcher did well, Joe did even better, when you
+consider that he was only rounding out his first season in a big league,
+and that he was up against a veteran of national fame, the announcement
+that he was going to be in the game being sufficient to attract a large
+throng.</p>
+
+<p>"Good work, old man! Good work!" called<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[244]</a></span> Boswell, when Joe came to the
+bench one inning, after having allowed but one hit. "Can you keep it
+up?"</p>
+
+<p>"I&mdash;I hope so."</p>
+
+<p>It was a great battle&mdash;a hard battle. The Giants worked every trick they
+knew to gain another run, but the score remained a tie. Goose egg after
+goose egg went up on the score board. The ninth inning had started with
+the teams still even.</p>
+
+<p>"We've just <em>got</em> to get that run!" declared Manager Watson. "We've just
+<em>got</em> to get it. Joe, you are to bat first. See if you can't get a hit!"</p>
+
+<p>Pitchers are proverbially weak hitters. One ingenious theory for it is
+that they are so used to seeing the ball shooting away from them, and
+toward the batter, that, when the positions are reversed, and they see
+the ball coming toward them they get nervous.</p>
+
+<p>"Ball!" was the umpire's first decision in Joe's favor. The young
+pitcher was rather surprised, for he knew the prowess of his opponent.</p>
+
+<p>And then Joe decided on what might have proved to be a foolish thing.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm going to think that the next one will be a swift, straight one, and
+I'm going to dig in my spikes and set for it," he decided. And he did.
+He made a beautiful hit, and amid the wild<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[245]</a></span> yells of the crowd he
+started for first. <a name="front" id="front"></a>He beat the ball by a narrow margin, and was declared
+safe.</p>
+
+<p>A pinch hitter was up next, and amid a breathless silence he was
+watched. But the peerless pitcher was taking no chances, and walked him,
+thinking to get Joe later.</p>
+
+<p>But he did not. For, as luck would have it, Rad Chase made the hit of
+his life, a three-bagger, and with the crowd going wild, two runs came
+in, giving the Cardinals the game, if they could hold the Giants down.</p>
+
+<p>And it was up to Joe to do this. Could he?</p>
+
+<p>As Joe walked to the mound, for that last momentous inning, he glanced
+toward the box where his parents, sister and Mabel sat. A little hand
+was waved to him, and Joe waved back. Then he faced his first man.</p>
+
+<p>"Thud!" went the ball in Doc Mullin's big mitt.</p>
+
+<p>"Ball!" droned the umpire.</p>
+
+<p>"Thud!" went another. The batter stood motionless.</p>
+
+<p>"Strike!"</p>
+
+<p>The batter indignantly tapped the rubber.</p>
+
+<p>"Crack!"</p>
+
+<p>"You can't get it!" yelled the crowd, as the ball shot up in a foul.</p>
+
+<p>The umpire tossed a new ball to Joe, for the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[246]</a></span> other had gone too far
+away to get back speedily.</p>
+
+<p>Joe wet the horsehide, and sent it drilling in. The batter made a slight
+motion, as though to hit it, but refrained:</p>
+
+<p>"Strike! You're out!" said the umpire, stolidly.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, that ball was&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"You're out!" and the umpire waved him aside, impatiently.</p>
+
+<p>Joe grinned in delight.</p>
+
+<p>But when he saw the next man, "Home Run Crater," facing him, our hero
+felt a little shaky. True, the chances were in favor of the Cardinals,
+but baseball is full of chances that make or break.</p>
+
+<p>"If he wallops it!" thought Joe.</p>
+
+<p>But Crater did not wallop it. In his characteristic manner he swung at
+the first delivery, and connected with it. Over Joe's head it was going,
+but with a mighty jump Joe corraled it in one hand, a sensational catch
+that set the crowd wild. Joe was playing the game of his life.</p>
+
+<p>"Only one more!"</p>
+
+<p>"Strike him out!"</p>
+
+<p>"The game is ours, Joe!"</p>
+
+<p>But another heavy hitter was up, and there was still work for Baseball
+Joe to do.</p>
+
+<p>To his alarm, as he sent in his first ball, there came to his arm that
+had been twisted on the car, a twinge of pain.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[247]</a></span>"My! I hope that doesn't bother me," thought Joe, in anxiety.</p>
+
+<p>"Ball one," announced the umpire.</p>
+
+<p>Joe delivered a straight, swift one. His arm hurt worse, and he gritted
+his teeth to keep from crying out.</p>
+
+<p>"Strike!" grunted the umpire, and there was some balm for Joe in that.</p>
+
+<p>The batter hit the next one for a dribbler, and just managed to reach
+first.</p>
+
+<p>"If I could only have managed to get him out!" mused Joe. "I'd be done
+now. But I've got to do it over again. I wonder if I can last out?"</p>
+
+<p>To his relief the next batter up was one of the weakest of the Giants,
+and Joe was glad. And even yet a weak batter might make a hit that would
+turn the tables.</p>
+
+<p>"I've got to do it!" murmured Joe, and he wound up for the delivery.</p>
+
+<p>"Strike!" announced the umpire. Joe's heart beat hard.</p>
+
+<p>"Here goes for the fadeaway," he said to himself, "though it will hurt
+like fun!"</p>
+
+<p>It did, bringing a remembrance of the old hurt. But it fooled the
+batter, and there were two strikes on him.</p>
+
+<p>The game was all but over. With two out, and two strikes called, there
+could be but one result, unless there was to be something that occurs<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[248]</a></span>
+but once in a lifetime. And it did not occur.</p>
+
+<p>"Strike! You're out!" was the umpire's decision, and that was the end.
+The Cardinals had won, thanks, in a great measure, to Joe Matson's
+splendid work.</p>
+
+<p>"That's the stuff!"</p>
+
+<p>"Third place for ours!"</p>
+
+<p>"Three cheers for Joe Matson&mdash;Baseball Joe!" called his teammates, who
+crowded around him to clap him on the back and say all sorts of nice
+things. Joe stood it, blushingly, for a moment, and then he made his way
+over to the box. As he walked along, a certain quiet man who had been
+intently watching the game said softly to himself.</p>
+
+<p>"He must be mine next season. I guess I can make a trade for him. He'd
+be a big drawing card for the Giants."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Joe, it was splendid! Splendid!" cried Mabel, enthusiastically.</p>
+
+<p>"Fine!" said his father.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you get any extra when your side wins?" asked his mother, while the
+crowd smiled.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, yes, in a way," answered Joe. "You get treated extra well."</p>
+
+<p>"And it's going to be my treat this time," said Mabel, with a laugh. "I
+want you all to come to dinner with me. You'll come; won't you, Joe?"
+she asked, pleadingly.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course," he said.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[249]</a></span>"And bring a friend, if you like," and she glanced at Clara.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll bring Rad," Joe answered.</p>
+
+<p>They lived the great game over again at the table of the hotel where
+Mable was stopping.</p>
+
+<p>"Is your arm lame?" asked Mrs. Matson, noticing that her son favored his
+pitching member a trifle.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I can finish out the season," said Joe. "The remainder will be
+easy&mdash;only a few more games."</p>
+
+<p>"And then what?" asked Rad.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, a vacation, I suppose, and then get ready for another season with
+the Cardinals."</p>
+
+<p>But Joe was not destined to remain with the Western team. The horizon
+was widening, and those of you who wish to follow further the adventures
+of our hero may do so in the succeeding volume, which will be called
+"Baseball Joe on the Giants; Or, Making Good as a Ball Twirler in the
+Metropolis."</p>
+
+<p>In that we shall see how Joe rose to even higher fame, through grit,
+hard work and ability.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, you turned the trick, old man!" declared Manager Watson, when, a
+few days later, the team was on the way back to St. Louis. "You did it.
+I felt sure you could."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, <em>I</em> didn't, at one time," was the rejoinder. "My arm started to
+go back on me."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, there's one consolation, Shalleg and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[250]</a></span> his crowd will never get
+another chance at you," went on the manager. "Now take care of yourself.
+I'm only going to let you play one game&mdash;the closing one at St. Louis.
+We won't need our stars against the tail-enders."</p>
+
+<p>And the Cardinals did not, winning handily with a number of second
+string men playing.</p>
+
+<p>"Where are you going, Joe?" asked Rad, as they sat in their hotel room
+one evening, for Joe was "dolling up."</p>
+
+<p>"Out to a moving picture show."</p>
+
+<p>"Moving pictures?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. That film of the exhibition game we played in Philadelphia is
+being shown in town. Come on up."</p>
+
+<p>"Sure," assented Rad; and as they went out together we will take leave
+of Baseball Joe.</p>
+
+<h4>THE END</h4>
+
+
+
+
+
+<div class="tp3">
+<h2>BOOKS BY LESTER CHADWICK</h2>
+
+<p class="hang">THE COLLEGE SPORTS SERIES<br />
+12mo. Cloth. Illustrated</p>
+
+<p class="hang">THE RIVAL PITCHERS<br />
+A Story of College Baseball</p>
+
+<p class="hang">A QUARTER-BACK'S PLUCK<br />
+A Story of College Football</p>
+
+<p class="hang">BATTING TO WIN<br />
+A Story of College Baseball</p>
+
+<p class="hang">THE WINNING TOUCHDOWN<br />
+A Story of College Football</p>
+
+<p class="hang">THE EIGHT-OARED VICTORS<br />
+A Story of College Water Sports</p>
+
+<h4>CUPPLES &amp; LEON COMPANY, New York</h4>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="promo">
+<h2>THE BASEBALL JOE SERIES</h2>
+
+<h3><small>By LESTER CHADWICK</small></h3>
+
+
+<p class="center"><em>12mo. Illustrated. Price 50 cents per volume.</em></p>
+
+<p class="center"><em>Postage 10 cents additional.</em></p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 224px;">
+<img src="images/ad-1.jpg" width="224" height="300" alt="Book Cover" title="Baseball Joe Pitching Wizard, Lester Chadwick" />
+</div>
+
+<ol class="pt">
+<li>BASEBALL JOE OF THE SILVER STARS<br />
+<em>or The Rivals of Riverside</em></li>
+
+<li>BASEBALL JOE ON THE SCHOOL NINE<br />
+<em>or Pitching for the Blue Banner</em></li>
+
+<li>BASEBALL JOE AT YALE<br />
+<em>or Pitching for the College Championship</em></li>
+
+<li>BASEBALL JOE IN THE CENTRAL LEAGUE<br />
+<em>or Making Good as a Professional Pitcher</em></li>
+
+<li>BASEBALL JOE IN THE BIG LEAGUE<br />
+<em>or A Young Pitcher's Hardest Struggles</em></li>
+
+<li>BASEBALL JOE ON THE GIANTS<br />
+<em>or Making Good as a Twirler in the Metropolis</em></li>
+
+<li>BASEBALL JOE IN THE WORLD SERIES<br />
+<em>or Pitching for the Championship</em></li>
+
+<li>BASEBALL JOE AROUND THE WORLD<br />
+<em>or Pitching on a Grand Tour</em></li>
+
+<li>BASEBALL JOE: HOME RUN KING<br />
+<em>or The Greatest Pitcher and Batter on Record</em></li>
+
+<li>BASEBALL JOE SAVING THE LEAGUE<br />
+<em>or Breaking Up a Great Conspiracy</em></li>
+
+<li>BASEBALL JOE CAPTAIN OF THE TEAM<br />
+<em>or Bitter Struggles on the Diamond</em></li>
+
+<li>BASEBALL JOE CHAMPION OF THE LEAGUE<br />
+<em>or The Record that was Worth While</em></li>
+
+<li>BASEBALL JOE CLUB OWNER<br />
+<em>or Putting the Home Town on the Map</em></li>
+
+<li>BASEBALL JOE PITCHING WIZARD<br />
+<em>or Triumphs Off and On the Diamond</em></li>
+</ol>
+
+<h4><em>Send for Our Free Illustrated Catalogue.</em></h4>
+
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2>CHAMPION SPORTS STORIES</h2>
+
+<h3>By NOEL SAINSBURY, JR.</h3>
+
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 233px;">
+<img src="images/ad-2.jpg" width="233" height="300" alt="Cracker Stanton" title="By Noel Sainsbury Jr." />
+</div>
+
+<p class="pt"><em>Every boy enjoys sport stories. Here we present three crackerjack
+stories of baseball, football, and basketball, written in the vernacular
+of the boy of to-day, full of action, suspense and thrills, in language
+every boy will understand, and which we know will be enthusiastically
+endorsed by all boys.</em></p>
+
+<p class="center noi"><em>Large 12mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Jacket in color. Price 50 cents per
+volume.</em></p>
+
+<p class="center noi"><em>Postage 10 cents additional.</em></p>
+
+<p class="ct lh pt2">1. CRACKER STANTON<br />
+<small><em>Or The Making of a Batsman</em></small><br /></p>
+
+<p>Ralph Stanton, big, rawboned and serious, is a product of the backwoods
+and a crack rifle shot. Quick thinking and pluck bring him a scholarship
+to Clarkville School where he is branded "grind" and "dub" by
+classmates. How his batting brings them first place in the League and
+how he secures his appointment to West Point make CRACKER STANTON an
+up-to-the-minute baseball story no lover of the game will want to put
+down until the last word is read.</p>
+
+<p class="ct lh">2. GRIDIRON GRIT<br />
+<small><em>Or The Making of a Fullback</em></small></p>
+
+<p>A corking story of football packed full of exciting action and good,
+clean competitive rivalry. Shorty Fiske is six-foot-four and the product
+of too much money and indulgence at home. How Clarkville School and
+football develop Shorty's real character and how he eventually stars on
+the gridiron brings this thrilling tale of school life and football to a
+grandstand finish.</p>
+
+<p class="ct lh">3. THE FIGHTING FIVE<br />
+<small><em>Or the Kidnapping of Clarkville's Basketball Team</em></small></p>
+
+<p>Clarkville School's basketball team is kidnapped during the game for the
+State Scholastic Championship. The team's subsequent adventures under
+the leadership of Captain Charlie Minor as he brings them back to the
+State College Gymnasium where the two last quarters of the Championship
+game are played next evening, climaxes twenty-four pulsating hours of
+adventure and basketball in the FIGHTING FIVE....</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h3>CUPPLES &amp; LEON COMPANY, Publishers  New York</h3>
+
+<hr class="hr2" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's Baseball Joe in the Big League, by Lester Chadwick
+
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+Project Gutenberg's Baseball Joe in the Big League, by Lester Chadwick
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Baseball Joe in the Big League
+       or, A Young Pitcher's Hardest Struggles
+
+Author: Lester Chadwick
+
+Release Date: December 21, 2008 [EBook #27584]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BASEBALL JOE IN THE BIG LEAGUE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Juliet Sutherland and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: HE BEAT THE BALL BY A NARROW MARGIN, AND WAS DECLARED
+SAFE. Page 245.]
+
+
+
+
+    Baseball Joe in
+    the Big League
+    OR
+    A Young Pitcher's Hardest Struggles
+
+    _By_ LESTER CHADWICK
+
+    AUTHOR OF
+    "BASEBALL JOE OF THE SILVER STARS,"
+    "BASEBALL JOE AT YALE,"
+    "BASEBALL JOE IN THE CENTRAL LEAGUE,"
+    "THE RIVAL PITCHERS,"
+    "THE EIGHT-OARED VICTORS," ETC.
+
+    _ILLUSTRATED_
+
+    NEW YORK
+    CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY
+
+    Copyright, 1915, by
+    CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY
+
+    Baseball Joe in the Big League
+    Printed in U. S. A.
+
+
+
+
+    CONTENTS
+
+    CHAPTER                                   PAGE
+
+          I    TWO LETTERS                       1
+
+         II    TO THE RESCUE                    11
+
+        III    AN UPSET                         19
+
+         IV    AN APPEAL                        30
+
+          V    THE THREAT                       38
+
+         VI    A WARNING                        46
+
+        VII    BASEBALL TALK                    54
+
+       VIII    THE QUARREL                      61
+
+         IX    JOE IS DRAFTED                   70
+
+          X    OFF TO ST. LOUIS                 77
+
+         XI    GOING DOWN SOUTH                 87
+
+        XII    THE QUARRELING MAN               97
+
+       XIII    UNDER SUNNY SKIES               103
+
+        XIV    HARD WORK                       112
+
+         XV    ANOTHER THREAT                  122
+
+        XVI    JOE'S TRIUMPH                   129
+
+       XVII    "PLAY BALL!"                    140
+
+      XVIII    HOT WORDS                       148
+
+        XIX    JOE GOES IN                     153
+
+         XX    STAGE FRIGHT                    162
+
+        XXI    A QUEER MESSAGE                 175
+
+       XXII    IN DANGER                       182
+
+      XXIII    A LAME ARM                      191
+
+       XXIV    A TIGHT GAME                    201
+
+        XXV    IN NEW YORK                     208
+
+       XXVI    ADRIFT                          217
+
+      XXVII    THE RESCUE                      223
+
+     XXVIII    MOVING PICTURES                 229
+
+       XXIX    SHALLEG'S DOWNFALL              234
+
+        XXX    THE HARDEST BATTLE              240
+
+
+
+
+BASEBALL JOE IN THE BIG LEAGUE
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+TWO LETTERS
+
+
+"Whew!" whistled Joe Matson, the astonishment on his bronzed face being
+indicated by his surprised exclamation of:
+
+"Well, what do you know about that, Sis?"
+
+"What is it, Joe?" asked his sister Clara, as she looked up from a
+letter she was reading to see her brother staring at a sheet of paper he
+had just withdrawn from an envelope, for the morning mail had been
+delivered a few minutes before. "What is it?" the girl went on, laying
+aside her own correspondence. "Is it anything serious--anything about
+father's business? Don't tell me there is more trouble, Joe!"
+
+"I'm not going to, Clara. It isn't trouble, but, if what he says is
+true, it's going to make a big difference to me," and Joe looked out of
+the window, across a snowy expanse of yard, and gazed at, without
+consciously seeing, a myriad of white flakes swirling down through the
+wintry air.
+
+"No, it isn't exactly trouble," went on Joe, "and I suppose I ought to
+be corkingly glad of it; but I hadn't counted on leaving the Central
+Baseball League quite so soon."
+
+"Oh, Joe! Have you lost your place?" exclaimed Clara. "And just after
+you have done so well, too; and helped them win the pennant! I call that
+a shame! I thought baseball men were better 'sports' than that."
+
+"Listen to her--my little sister using slang!" laughed Joe.
+
+"'Sports' isn't slang," defended Clara. "I've heard lots of girls use
+it. I mean it in the right sense. But have you really lost your place on
+the team, Joe?"
+
+"Well, not exactly, Sis, but I'm about to, I'm afraid. However, I guess
+I may as well make the best of it, and be glad. I sure can use the extra
+money!"
+
+"I certainly don't know what you're talking about," went on Clara, with
+a helpless look at her big, handsome brother, "and I suppose you'll take
+your own time in telling me. But I _would_ like to know what it all
+means, Joe. And about extra money. Who's going to give it to you?"
+
+"Nobody. I'll have to earn it with this pitching arm of mine," and the
+young baseball player swung it around, as though "winding-up" for a
+swift delivery.
+
+"Look out, Joe!" cried Clara, but she gave the warning too late.
+
+At that moment Mrs. Matson entered the room with a jug of water, which
+she intended pouring on a window-box of flowers. Joe's arm struck the
+jug a glancing blow, and sent it flying, the water spraying over the
+floor, and the jug itself falling, and cracking into many pieces.
+
+For a moment there was a momentous silence, after two startled
+screams--one each from Mrs. Matson and Clara. Then Joe cried gaily:
+
+"Out at first! Say, Momsey, I hope I didn't hit you!"
+
+"No, you didn't," and she laughed now. "But what does it all mean? Are
+you practicing so early in the season? Oh, my carpet! It will be
+ruined!" she went on, as she saw the water. "But I'm glad I didn't bring
+in a good jug. Did you hurt your hand?"
+
+"Nary a hurt," said Joe, with a smile. "Ha! I'll save _you_ from a
+wetting!" he exclaimed, as he stooped quickly and picked up an unopened
+letter, the address of which was in a girlish hand.
+
+"Get the mop, while you're at it," advised Clara. A little later Joe had
+sopped up the water, and quiet was restored.
+
+"And now suppose you tell us all about it," suggested Mrs. Mason. "Why
+were you practicing gymnastics, Joe?" and she smiled at her athletic
+son.
+
+"I was just telling Clara that my pitching arm was likely to bring me in
+more money this year, Momsey, and I was giving it a twirl, when you
+happened to get in my way. Now I'll tell you all about it. It's this
+letter," and Joe held out the one he had been reading.
+
+"Are you sure it isn't the _other_?" asked Clara, with a sly look at her
+brother, for she had glanced at the writing on the unopened envelope Joe
+had picked up from the floor. "Let me read that other letter, Joe," she
+teased.
+
+"A little later--maybe!" he parried. "But this one," and he fluttered
+the open sheet in his hand, "this one is from Mr. Gregory, manager of
+the Pittston team, with whom I have the honor to be associated," and Joe
+bowed low to his mother and sister. "Mr. Gregory gives me a bit of news.
+It is nothing less than that the manager of the St. Louis Nationals is
+negotiating for the services of yours truly--your humble servant, Joseph
+Matson," and again the young ball player bowed, and laughed.
+
+"Joe, you don't mean it!" cried his sister. "You're going to belong to a
+major league team!" for Clara was almost as ardent a baseball "fan" as
+was her brother.
+
+"Well, it looks like it, Sis," replied Joe, slowly, as he glanced at the
+letter again. "Of course it isn't settled, but Mr. Gregory says I'm
+pretty sure to be drafted to St. Louis."
+
+"Drafted!" exclaimed his mother. "That sounds like war times, when they
+used to draft men to go to the front. Do you mean you haven't any choice
+in the matter, Joe?"
+
+"Well, that's about it, Momsey," the young man explained. "You see,
+baseball is pretty well organized. It has to be, to make it the success
+it is," he added frankly, "though lots of people are opposed to the
+system. But I haven't been in it long enough to find fault, even if I
+wanted to--which I don't."
+
+"But it seems queer that you can't stay with the Pittston team if you
+want to," said Mrs. Matson.
+
+"I don't know as I want to," spoke Joe, slowly, "especially when I'll
+surely get more money with St. Louis, besides having the honor of
+pitching for a major league team, even if it isn't one of the
+top-notchers, and a pennant winner. So if they want to draft me, let
+them do their worst!" and he laughed, showing his even, white teeth.
+
+"You see," he resumed, "when I signed a contract with the Pittstons, of
+the Central League, I gave them the right to control my services as long
+as I played baseball. I had to agree not to go to any other team
+without permission, and, in fact, no other organized team would take me
+unless the Pittston management released me. I went into it with my eyes
+open.
+
+"And, you see, the Pittston team, being one of the small ones, has to
+give way to a major league team. That is, any major league team, like
+the St. Louis Nationals, can call for, or draft, any player in a smaller
+team. So if they call me I'll have to go. And I'll be glad to. I'll get
+more money and fame.
+
+"That is, I hope I will," and Joe spoke more soberly. "I know I'm not
+going to have any snap of it. It's going to be hard work from the word
+go, for there will be other pitchers on the St. Louis team, and I'll
+have to do my best to make a showing against them.
+
+"And I will, too!" cried Joe, resolutely. "I'll make good, Momsey!"
+
+"I hope so, my son," she responded, quietly. "You know I was not much in
+favor of your taking up baseball for a living, but I must say you have
+done well at it, and after all, if one does one's best at anything, that
+is what counts. So I hope you make good with the St. Louis team--I
+suppose 'make good' is the proper expression," she added, with a smile.
+
+"It'll do first-rate, Momsey," laughed Joe. "Now let's see what else
+Gregory says."
+
+He glanced over the letter again, and remarked:
+
+"Well, there's nothing definite. The managers are laying their plans for
+the Spring work, and he says I'm being considered. He adds he will be
+sorry to lose me."
+
+"I should think he would be!" exclaimed Clara, a flush coming into her
+cheeks. "You were the best pitcher on his team!"
+
+"Oh, I wouldn't go as far as to say that!" cried Joe, "though I
+appreciate your feeling, Sis. I had a good bit of luck, winning some of
+the games the way I did. Well, I guess I'll go look up some St. Louis
+records, and see what I'm expected to do in the batting average line
+compared with them," the player went on. "The St. Louis team isn't a
+wonder, but it's done pretty fair at times, I believe, and it's a step
+up for me. I'll be more in line for a place on the New York Giants, or
+the Philadelphia Athletics if I make a good showing in Missouri,"
+finished Joe.
+
+He started from the room, carrying the two letters, one of which he had
+not yet opened.
+
+"Who's it from?" asked Clara, with a smile, as she pointed to the heavy,
+square envelope in his hand.
+
+"Oh, one of my many admirers," teased Joe. "I can't tell just which one
+until I open it. And, just to satisfy your curiosity, I'll do so now,"
+and he proceeded to slit the envelope with his pocket-knife.
+
+"Oh, it's from Mabel Varley!" he exclaimed.
+
+"Just as if you didn't know all the while!" scoffed Clara. "You wouldn't
+forget her handwriting so soon, Joe Matson."
+
+"Um!" he murmured, non-committally. "Why, this is news!" he cried,
+suddenly. "Mabel and her brother Reggie are coming here!"
+
+"Here!" exclaimed Clara. "To visit us?"
+
+"Oh, no, not that exactly," Joe went on. "They're on a trip, it seems,
+and they're going to stop off here for a day or so. Mabel says they'll
+try to see us. I hope they will."
+
+"I've never met them," observed Clara.
+
+"No," spoke Joe, musingly. "Well, you may soon. Why!" he went on,
+"they're coming to-day--on the afternoon express. I must go down to the
+station to meet them, though the train is likely to be late, if this
+snow keeps up. Whew! see it come down!" and he went over to the window
+and looked out.
+
+"It's like a small blizzard," remarked Clara, "and it seems to be
+growing worse. Doesn't look much like baseball; does it, Joe?"
+
+"I should say not! Say, I believe I'll go down to the station, anyhow,
+and see what the prospects are. Want to come, Sis?"
+
+"No, thank you. Not in this storm. Where are the Varleys going to stop?"
+
+"At the hotel. Reggie has some business in town, Mabel writes. Well, I
+sure will be glad to see him again!"
+
+"_Him_? _Her_, you mean!" laughed Clara. "Oh, Joe, you _are_ so simple!"
+
+"Humph!" he exclaimed, as he put the two letters into his pocket--both
+of great importance to him. "Well, I'll go down to the station."
+
+Joe was soon trudging through the storm on the way to the depot.
+
+"The St. Louis 'Cardinals'!" he mused, as he bent his head to the blast,
+thinking of the letters in his pocket. "I didn't think I'd be in line
+for a major league team so soon. I wonder if I can make good?"
+
+Thinking alternately of the pleasure he would have in seeing Miss Mabel
+Varley, a girl in whom he was more than ordinarily interested, and of
+the new chance that had come to him, Joe soon reached the depot. His
+inquiries about the trains were not, however, very satisfactorily
+answered.
+
+"We can't tell much about them in this storm," the station master said.
+"All our trains are more or less late. Stop in this afternoon, and I may
+have some definite information for you."
+
+And later that day, when it was nearly arrival time for the train on
+which Mabel and Reggie were to come, Joe received some news that
+startled him.
+
+"There's no use in your waiting, Joe," said the station master, as the
+young ball player approached him again. "Your train won't be in to-day,
+and maybe not for several days."
+
+"Why? What's the matter--a wreck?" cried Joe, a vision of injured
+friends looming before him.
+
+"Not exactly a wreck, but almost as bad," went on the official. "The
+train is stalled--snowed in at Deep Rock Cut, five miles above here, and
+there's no chance of getting her out."
+
+"Great Scott!" cried Joe. "The express snowed in! Why, I've got friends
+on that train! I wonder what I can do to help them?"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+TO THE RESCUE
+
+
+Joe Matson looked so worried at the information imparted by the station
+master that the latter asked him:
+
+"Any particular friends of yours on that train?"
+
+"Very particular," declared the young ball player. "And I hope no harm
+comes to them."
+
+"Well, I don't know as any great harm will come," went on the station
+master. "The train's snowed in, and will have to stay there until we can
+get together a gang of men and shovel her out. It won't be easy, for
+it's snowing harder every minute, and Deep Rock Cut is one of the worst
+places on the line for drifts. But no other train can run into the
+stalled one, that's sure. The only thing is the steam may get low, and
+the passengers will be cold, and hungry."
+
+"Isn't there any way to prevent that?" asked Joe, anxiously.
+
+"I s'pose the passengers could get out and try to reach some house or
+hotel," resumed the railroad man, "but Deep Rock Cut is a pretty lonely
+place, and there aren't many houses near it. The only thing I see to do
+would be for someone to go there with a horse and sled, and rescue the
+passengers, and that would be _some_ job, as there's quite a trainload
+of them."
+
+"Well, I'm going to try and get _my_ friends that way, anyhow!" cried
+Joe. "I'll go to the rescue," and he set off for home through the storm
+again, intending to hire a rig at a livery stable, and do what he could
+to take Mabel and her brother from the train.
+
+And, while Joe is thus making his preparations, I will tell my new
+readers something about the previous books of this series, in which Joe
+Matson, or "Baseball Joe," as he is called, has a prominent part.
+
+The initial volume was called "Baseball Joe of the Silver Stars; Or, The
+Rivals of Riverside," and began with my hero's career in the town of
+Riverside. Joe joined the ball team there, and, after some hard work,
+became one of the best amateur pitchers in that section of the country.
+He did not have it all easy, though, and the fight was an uphill one.
+But Joe made good, and his team came out ahead.
+
+"Baseball Joe on the School Nine; Or, Pitching for the Blue Banner," the
+second book in the series, saw our hero as the pitcher on a better
+organized team than were the Silver Stars. Joe had taken a step forward.
+He did not make the school nine without a struggle, for he had rivals,
+and a strong effort was made to keep him out of the game.
+
+But Joe proved his worth, and when a critical time came he pitched to
+victory, thus defeating the plans of his enemies.
+
+It was quite a step forward for Joe to go to Yale from Excelsior Hall,
+where he had gotten his early education.
+
+Naturally Joe wanted to play on the Yale team, but he had to wait some
+time before his ambition was gratified. In "Baseball Joe at Yale; Or,
+Pitching for the College Championship," I related how, after playing
+during his freshman year on the class team, Joe was picked as one of the
+pitchers for the varsity.
+
+Then, indeed, he was proud and happy, but he knew it would not be as
+easy as it had been at Excelsior Hall. Every step upward meant harder
+work, but Joe welcomed the chance.
+
+And when finally the deciding game came--the one with Princeton at the
+Polo Grounds, New York--Joe had the proud distinction of pitching for
+Yale--and he pitched to victory.
+
+Joe's ambition, ever since he had taken an interest in baseball, had
+been to become a professional player. His mother had hoped that he
+would become a minister, or enter one of the more learned professions,
+but, though Joe disappointed her hopes, there was some compensation.
+
+"Better let the boy have his own way," Mr. Matson had said. "I would
+rather see him a good ball player than a half-rate lawyer, or doctor;
+and, after all, there is good money to be made on the diamond."
+
+So, when Joe received an offer from the manager of one of the minor
+league professional teams, he took it. In "Baseball Joe in the Central
+League; Or, Making Good as a Professional Pitcher," the fourth volume of
+the series, I related Joe's experiences when he got his start in
+organized baseball. How he was instrumental in bringing back on the
+right path a player who had gone wrong, and how he fought to the last,
+until his team won the pennant--all that you will find set down in the
+book.
+
+I might add that Joe lived with his father, mother, and sister in the
+town of Riverside, where Mr. Matson was employed in the Royal Harvester
+Works, being an able inventor.
+
+Joe had many friends in town, one in particular being Tom Davis, who had
+gone to Excelsior Hall with him. Of late, however, Joe had not seen so
+much of Tom, their occupations pursuing divergent paths.
+
+It was while Joe was on his way to join the Pittston team, of the
+Central League, that he made the acquaintance of Reggie Varley, a rich,
+and somewhat dudish, young man; and the acquaintance was made in an odd
+manner. For Reggie practically accused Joe of knowing something of some
+jewelry that was missing from a valise.
+
+Of course Joe did not take it, but for some time the theft remained
+quite a mystery, until Joe solved the secret. From then on he and Reggie
+were good friends, and Reggie's sister Mabel and Joe were----
+
+Oh, well, what's the use of telling on a fellow? You wouldn't like it
+yourself; would you?
+
+The baseball season came to an end, and the Pittston team covered itself
+with glory, partly due to Joe's good pitching. Cold weather set in, and
+the players took themselves to their various Winter occupations, or
+pleasures. Joe went home, to wait until the training season should open,
+in preparation for league games on the velvety, green diamonds.
+
+Several weeks of inaction had passed, the holidays were over, Winter had
+set in with all earnestness, and now we find Joe hurrying along, intent
+on the rescue of Reggie and his sister from the snow-stalled train.
+
+"I hope they will not freeze before I get to them," thought Joe, as he
+staggered through the blinding snow. "They can't, though, for there'll
+be sure to be steam for some hours yet. I guess I'll stop home, and get
+something to eat for them, and a bottle of coffee. I'll put it in one of
+those vacuum flasks, and it will keep hot."
+
+So intent was Joe on his rescue that, for the time, he gave no more
+thought to the matter of joining the St. Louis nine, important as that
+matter was to him.
+
+"I'd better get a team of horses, and a light sled," he mused, as he
+turned in the direction of the livery stable. "There will be some heavy
+going between here and Deep Rock Cut, and I'll need a good team to pull
+through."
+
+A little later he was leaving his order with the proprietor.
+
+"I'll fix you up, Joe," said the stable boss, who was a baseball "fan,"
+and a great admirer of our hero. "I'll give you the best team in the
+place, and they'll get you through, if any horses can. I expect I'll
+have other calls, if, as you say, the train is stalled, for there'll
+likely be other folks in town who have friends aboard her. But you've
+got the first call, and I'm glad of it."
+
+"I'll be back in a little while," called Joe, as he hurried off. "I'm
+going around to my house to put up some lunch and coffee."
+
+"Good idea! I'll have everything ready for you when you come back."
+
+On Joe hurried once more, through the swirl of white flakes that cut
+into his face, blown on the wings of a bitter wind. He bent his head to
+the blast, and buttoned his overcoat more closely about him, as he
+fought his way through the drifts.
+
+It had been snowing since early morning, and there were no signs to
+indicate that the storm was going to stop. It was growing colder, too,
+and the wind seemed to increase in violence each hour. Though it was
+only a little after one o'clock in the afternoon, it was unusually dark,
+and Joe realized that night would soon be at hand, hastened by the
+clouds overhead.
+
+"But the snow will make it light enough to see, I guess," reasoned Joe.
+"I hope I can keep to the road. It wouldn't be much of a joke to get
+Reggie and Mabel out of the train, into the comfortable sled, and then
+lose them on the way home."
+
+Quickly explaining to his mother and sister his plan of going for the
+two friends in the stalled train, Joe hastily put up some sandwiches,
+while Clara made coffee and poured it into the vacuum bottle.
+
+"Perhaps you'd better bring them here, Joe, instead of taking them to
+the hotel," suggested his mother. "Mabel will be wet and cold, perhaps,
+and I could make her more comfortable here than she would be at the
+hotel. We have room enough."
+
+"She can share my room," proposed Clara.
+
+"That's good of you," and Joe flashed a grateful look at his sister. "I
+hope you will like Mabel," he added, softly.
+
+"I guess I will; if you do," laughed Clara.
+
+"Well, I sure do," and Joe smiled.
+
+Then, with a big scarf to wrap about his neck, and carrying the basket
+of food and coffee, Joe set out for the livery stable, to start to the
+rescue.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+AN UPSET
+
+
+"Here you are, Joe. Best team in the stable. I could have hired 'em out
+twice over since you went; but I wouldn't do it. Other folks have got
+the scare, too, about friends on the stalled train," and the livery boss
+handed Joe the reins of a pair of prancing horses, hitched to a light,
+but strong cutter.
+
+"Thanks, Mr. Blasser," said Joe. "I'll take good care of 'em."
+
+"And hold 'em in a bit at the start," advised the man. "They haven't
+been out for a couple of days, and they're a bit frisky. But they'll
+calm down after a while."
+
+With a jingle of bells, and a scattering of the snow from their hoofs,
+the horses leaped forward when Joe gave them their heads, and down the
+whitened street they trotted, on the way to Deep Rock Cut.
+
+This was a place where the railroad went through a rocky defile, about a
+mile long. It had been the scene of more than one wreck, for there was
+a dangerous curve in it, and in the Winter it was a source of worry to
+the railroad men, for the snow piled high in it when there was a storm
+of more than usual severity. In the Summer a nearby river sometimes rose
+above its banks, and filled the cut with water, washing out the track.
+
+Altogether Deep Rock Cut was a cause of much anxiety to the railroad
+management, but it was not practical to run the line on either side of
+it, so its use had been continued.
+
+"And very likely it's living up to its reputation right now," mused Joe,
+as he drove down the main street, and then turned to another that would
+take him out of the town, and to a highway that led near Deep Rock Cut.
+"It sure must be living up to its reputation right now, though, of
+course, the storm is to blame.
+
+"Whew! It certainly does blow!" he commented, as he held the reins in
+one hand, and drew more closely about his throat the muffler he had
+brought with him. "Stand to it, ponies!" Joe called to the sturdy
+steeds. They had started off at a lively pace, but the snow soon slowed
+them down. They started up again, however, at the sound of Joe's voice,
+and settled down into a steady pull that took them over the ground at a
+good pace.
+
+Now that he was actually on the way to the rescue Joe allowed his
+thoughts to go back to the baseball letter that was in his pocket, next
+to the one from Mabel.
+
+"I wonder how they came to pick me out?" he mused, as he recalled the
+possibility that he would go to St. Louis. "They must have had a scout
+at some of the Central League games, though generally the news of that
+is tipped off beforehand.
+
+"That must have been the way of it, though," he went on, still communing
+with himself. "I don't know that I played so extra well, except maybe at
+the last, and then--then I just _had_ to--to make good. Well, I'm glad
+they picked me out. Wonder if any other members of the Pittston team are
+slated to go? Can't be, though, or Gregory would have told me of it.
+
+"And I wonder how much more salary I'll get? Of course I oughtn't to
+think too much about money, for, after all, it's the game I like. But,
+then, I have to live, and, since I'm in organized baseball, I want to be
+at the top of the heap, the same as I would if I were a lawyer, or a
+doctor. That's it--the top of the heap--the New York Giants for mine--if
+I can reach 'em," and he smiled quizzically.
+
+"Yes, I guess lots of the fellows would give their eye teeth to have my
+chance. Of course, it isn't settled yet," Joe told himself, "but there
+must have been a good foundation for it, or Gregory wouldn't have taken
+the trouble to write to me about it."
+
+Joe found the road to Deep Rock Cut fully as bad, in the matter of
+snowdrifts, as he had expected. It was rather slow going when he got to
+the open country, where the wind had full sweep, and progress, even on
+the part of the willing horses, was slower.
+
+Joe picked out the best, and easiest, route possible, but that was not
+saying much, and it was not until nearly three o'clock, and growing
+quite dark, that he came within sight of the cut. Then the storm was so
+thick that he could not see the stalled train.
+
+"I'll have to leave the team as near to it as I can get, and walk in to
+tell Reggie and Mabel that I've come for them," Joe decided.
+
+The highway crossed the railroad track a short distance from the end of
+the cut nearest Riverside, and Joe, halting a moment to listen, and to
+make sure no trains were approaching, drove over the rails.
+
+"Though there isn't much danger, now, of a train getting through that,"
+he said to himself, as he saw the big drift of snow that blocked the
+cut. Behind that drift was the stalled train, he reflected, and then, as
+he looked at the white mound, he realized that he had made a mistake.
+
+"I can never get through that drift myself," he said. "I'll have to
+drive up to the other end of the cut, by which the engine and cars
+entered. Stupid of me not to have thought of that at first."
+
+He turned his horses, and again sought the highway that led along the
+cut, parallel to it, and about a quarter of a mile distant. Joe
+listened, again hoping he could hear the whistle of the approaching
+rescue-train, for at the station he had been told one was being fitted
+out, and would carry a gang of snow shovelers. But the howl of the wind
+was all that came to his ears.
+
+"This means another mile of travel," Joe thought, as he urged on the
+horses. "It will be pitch dark by the time I get back to town with them.
+I hope Mabel doesn't take cold. It sure is bitter."
+
+Joe found the going even harder as he kept on, but he would not give up
+now.
+
+"There's one consolation," he reasoned, "the wind will be at our backs
+going home. That will make it easier."
+
+The road that crossed the track at the other end of Deep Rock Cut was
+farther from the beginning of the defile, and Joe, leaving the horses in
+a sheltering clump of trees, struggled down the track, the rails of
+which were out of sight under the snow.
+
+"I wonder if Mabel can walk back?" he said aloud. "If not I guess Reggie
+and I can carry her. It's pretty deep. I didn't get here any too soon."
+
+Something dark loomed up before him, amid the wall of white, swirling
+flakes.
+
+"There's the train!" exclaimed Joe, in relief.
+
+It was indeed the rear coach of the stalled passenger train, and, a
+moment later, Joe was climbing the snow-encumbered steps. It proved to
+be the baggage car, and, as Joe entered, he surprised a number of men
+who were smoking, and playing cards on an upturned trunk.
+
+"Hello!" exclaimed one of them, in surprise at the sight of the ball
+player. "Where'd you come from? Is the rescue-train here?"
+
+"Not yet," Joe answered. "I came to take a couple of friends into town."
+
+"Say, I wish I had a friend like you!" cried the man, with a laugh. "I
+sure would like to get into town; but I don't dare start out and tramp
+it--not with my rheumatism. How much room have you got in your airship?"
+
+"I came in a cutter," responded Joe, with a smile.
+
+"Say, you got some grit!" declared the man. "I like your nerve!"
+
+"Oh, Joe's got plenty of nerve--of the right sort!" called a brakeman,
+and Joe, nodding at him, recognized a railroad acquaintance who had
+been present at some of the town ball games.
+
+"A couple of my friends are in one of the coaches, Mr. Wheatson,"
+explained Joe. "I'm going to drive back with them."
+
+"Go ahead and look for 'em," invited the brakeman. "The train is yours,
+as far as I'm concerned. I guess we're tied up here all night."
+
+"They're going to start out a rescue-train," Joe informed the men in the
+baggage car, for the telegraph wires had gone down after the first
+message, telling of the stalled train, had been sent.
+
+"That's good news," replied one of the men. "Well, all we can do is to
+stay here, and play cards. It's nice and warm in here, anyhow."
+
+"Yes, it will be until the coal for the engine gives out," spoke a
+player, who seemed to take a rather gloomy view of matters. "And what
+are we going to do about supper? I'd like to know that!"
+
+Joe wished he could have brought along enough food for all the stranded
+passengers, but this was impossible. He went on through the train, and
+presently came to where Mabel and her brother were seated in the parlor
+car, looking gloomily out at the storm.
+
+"Well!" exclaimed Joe, with a smile, as he stood just back of them. They
+both turned with a flash, and a look of pleased surprise came over the
+faces of Reggie and his sister as they saw him.
+
+"Joe Matson!" cried Reggie, jumping up, and holding out his hand. "Where
+in the world did you come from? I didn't know you were on this train."
+
+"I wasn't," laughed Joe. "I just boarded it, and I've come for you," he
+added, as he gave Mabel his hand.
+
+"Oh, but I'm glad to see you!" she exclaimed. "Isn't this just perfectly
+awful, to be snowed in like this! And they tell us there's no chance of
+getting out to-night."
+
+"There is for you," remarked Joe, quietly.
+
+"How?" asked Reggie, quickly. "Did they push the relief-train through?"
+
+"I'm all the relief-train there is," announced Joe, and he told about
+having the cutter in readiness.
+
+"Say, that's fine of you!" cried Reggie. "Shall we go with him, Mabel?"
+
+"Well, I rather guess so," she answered. "I couldn't stay here another
+hour."
+
+"It won't be much fun traveling through the storm," Joe warned his
+friends. At this Reggie looked a bit doubtful, but his sister exclaimed:
+
+"I don't mind it! I love a storm, anyhow, and I just can't bear sitting
+still, and doing nothing. Besides, there isn't a thing to eat aboard
+this train, for they took off the dining car right after lunch."
+
+"I brought along a little something. It's in the cutter," Joe said. "I
+didn't bring it in here for fear the famished passengers would mob me
+for it," he added, with a smile. "Well, if you're willing to trust
+yourself with me, perhaps we'd better start," he went on. "It is getting
+darker all the while, and the snow is still falling."
+
+"I'll be ready at once!" cried Mabel. "Reggie, get down the valises;
+will you, please? Can you take them?" she asked of Joe.
+
+"Oh, yes--room for them in the cutter," he assured her.
+
+The other passengers looked on curiously, and enviously, when they heard
+where Reggie and his sister were going. But, much as Joe would have
+liked to take them all to a place of comfort, he could not. The three
+went back to the baggage car, and, saying good-bye to the card-players,
+stepped out into the storm.
+
+"I guess your brother and I had better carry you, Mabel," suggested Joe,
+as he saw the deep snow that led along the track to where he had left
+the cutter.
+
+"Indeed you'll not--thank you!" she flashed back at him. "I have on
+stout shoes, and I don't mind the drifts." She proved it by striding
+sturdily through them, and soon the three were at the cutter, the
+horses whinnying impatiently to be gone.
+
+"Have some hot coffee and a sandwich," invited Joe, as he got out the
+basket, and served his guests.
+
+"Say, you're all right!" cried Reggie. Mabel said nothing, but the look
+she gave Joe was reward enough.
+
+The coffee in the vacuum bottle was warm and cheering, and soon, much
+refreshed from the little lunch, and bundled up well in the robes Joe
+had brought, Reggie and his sister were ready for the trip to town.
+
+"Step along!" cried the young baseball player to the horses, and glad
+enough they were to do so. Out to the highway they went, and it was not
+until they were some distance away from the cut that Joe noticed how
+much worse the going was. The snow was considerably deeper, and had
+drifted high in many more places.
+
+"Think you can make it?" asked Reggie, anxiously.
+
+"Well, I'm going to make a big try!" responded Joe. "I've got a good
+team here."
+
+Half an hour later it was quite dark, but the white covering on the
+ground showed where the road was faintly outlined. Joe let the horses
+have their heads, and they seemed to know they were going toward their
+stable, for they went along at a good pace.
+
+"There's a bad drift!" exclaimed Joe as, ahead of him, he saw a big
+mound of snow. He tried to guide the horses to one side, and must have
+given a stronger pull on the reins than he realized. For the steeds
+turned sharply, and, the next moment, the cutter suddenly turned over on
+its side, spilling into the snow the three occupants.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+AN APPEAL
+
+
+"Look out there!"
+
+"See if you can grab the horses, Reggie!"
+
+"Mabel, are you hurt?"
+
+Fast and excitedly came the exclamations, as Joe managed to free himself
+from the entanglement of robes and lines. Then he stood up, and, giving
+a hasty glance to see that Mabel and her brother were extricating
+themselves (apparently little if any hurt), the young pitcher sprang for
+the heads of the horses, fearing they might bolt.
+
+But, as if the steeds had done mischief enough; or, possibly because
+they were well trained, and had lost most of their skittishness in the
+cold, they stood still.
+
+"For which I'm mighty glad!" quoth Joe, as he looked to see that no part
+of the harness was broken, a fact of which he could not be quite sure in
+the darkness.
+
+"Are you all right, Mabel?" called Joe, as he stood at the heads of the
+animals.
+
+"All right, Joe, yes, thank you. How about yourself?"
+
+"Oh, I haven't a scratch. The snow is soft. How about you, Reggie?"
+
+"Nothing worse than about a peck of snow down my neck. What happened,
+anyhow?"
+
+"Hit a drift and turned too suddenly. I guess you'll wish I had left you
+in the train; won't you?"
+
+"No, indeed!" laughed Mabel. "This isn't anything, nor the first upset
+I've been in--Reggie tipped us over once."
+
+"Oh, that was when I was first learning how to drive," put in the other
+youth, quickly. "But can we go on, Joe?"
+
+"I think so. Nothing seems to be broken. We'll have to right the sled,
+though. I wonder if the horses will stand while we do it? I wouldn't
+like them to start up, but----"
+
+"Let me hold them!" begged Mabel. "I'm not afraid, and with me at their
+heads you boys can turn the sled right side up. It isn't tipped all the
+way over, anyhow."
+
+She shook the snow from her garments, and made her way to where Joe
+stood, holding the reins close to the heads of the horses. It was still
+snowing hard, and with the cold wind driving the flakes into swirls and
+drifts, it was anything but pleasant. Had they been left behind by the
+horses running away, their plight would have been dangerous enough.
+
+"Perhaps I can help you," suddenly called a voice out of the storm, and
+Joe and the others turned quickly, to see whence it had come.
+
+The snow-encrusted figure of a man made its way over the piles of snow,
+and stood beside Joe.
+
+"I'll hold the horses for you," the stranger went on. "You seem to have
+had an accident. I know something about horses. I'll hold them while you
+right the sled."
+
+"Thanks," said Joe, and, as he spoke, he wondered where he had heard
+that voice before. He knew he had heard it, for there was a familiar
+ring to it. But it was not light enough to make out the features of the
+man. Besides, he was so wrapped up, with a slouch hat drawn low over his
+face, and a scarf pulled up well around his neck, that, even in
+daylight, his features would have been effectually concealed.
+
+"I guess they won't need much holding," Joe went on, all the while
+racking his brain to recall the voice. He wanted to have the man speak
+again, that he might listen once more.
+
+And the unknown, who had appeared so suddenly out of the storm, did not
+seem to have anything to conceal. He spoke freely.
+
+"Don't worry about the horses," he remarked. "I can manage them."
+
+"They won't need a lot of managing," responded Joe. "I guess they've had
+pretty nearly all the tucker taken out of them in the storm. It was
+pretty hard coming from Riverside."
+
+"Are you from there?" the man asked rather quickly.
+
+"Yes," answered Joe, "and we're going back."
+
+"Then I'm glad I met you!" the man exclaimed, and Joe, who had half
+formed an opinion as to his identity, changed his mind, for the voice
+sounded different now. "Yes, I'm glad I met you," the stranger went on.
+"I was looking for someone to ask the road to Riverside, and you can
+tell me. I guess I lost my way in the storm. I heard your sleigh-bells,
+and I was heading for them when I heard you upset. You can show me the
+shortest road to Riverside; can't you?"
+
+"We can do better than that," spoke Joe, trying, but still
+unsuccessfully, to get a look at the man's face. "We've got plenty of
+room in the sled, and you can ride back with us, once we get it on the
+runners again. Come on, Reggie, give me a hand, if you will, and we'll
+get this cutter right side up with care."
+
+"If it needs three of you, I can take my place at the horses," suggested
+Mabel, who was standing beside Joe, idly looking through the
+fast-gathering darkness at the stranger.
+
+"Oh, the two of us can easily do it," said the young ball player. "It
+isn't heavy. Come on, Reggie. Better stand a bit back, Mabel. It might
+slip," he advised.
+
+Joe and his friend easily righted the sleigh, while the stranger stood
+at the heads of the horses, who were now quiet enough. Then, the
+scattered robes having been collected, and the baggage picked up, all
+was in readiness for a new start.
+
+Joe tucked the warm blanket well around Mabel, and then called to the
+stranger:
+
+"Get up on the front seat, and I'll soon have you in Riverside. It isn't
+very far now."
+
+"Thanks," said the man, briefly. "This is better luck than I've had in
+some time."
+
+For a while, after the mishap, none of the occupants of the cutter
+spoke, as the willing horses pulled it through the big drifts of snow.
+Joe drove more carefully, taking care not to turn too suddenly, and he
+avoided, as well as he could, the huge heaps of white crystals that,
+every moment, were piling higher.
+
+Reggie was snuggling down in the robes, and Mabel, too, rather worn out
+by the events of the day, and the worry of being snowed in, maintained
+silence.
+
+As for Joe, he had all he could do to manage the horses in the storm,
+though the beasts did not seem inclined to make any more trouble. The
+man on the seat beside him appeared wrapped, not only in his heavy
+garments, but in a sort of gloomy silence, as well. He did not speak
+again, and Joe was still puzzling over his identity.
+
+"For I'm sure I've met him before, and more than once," reasoned Joe.
+"But then I've met so many fellows, playing ball all around the country,
+that it's no wonder I can't recall a certain voice. Maybe I'll get a
+chance to have a good look at him later."
+
+"You'll come right to our house," said Joe, turning to speak to Mabel
+and Reggie. "Mother said so."
+
+"Oh, but we have our rooms engaged at the hotel," objected the other
+youth.
+
+"That doesn't matter. You can go there later, if you like. But mother
+insisted that I bring you home," Joe went on. "You can be more
+comfortable there--at least, until you get over this cold trip."
+
+"It's perfectly lovely of your mother," declared Mabel. "But I don't
+want to put her to so much inconvenience."
+
+"It isn't any inconvenience at all," laughed Joe. "She wants to meet
+you, and so does my sister Clara."
+
+"And I want to meet them," responded Mabel, with a blush that was unseen
+in the darkness.
+
+"Well, have it your own way," said Reggie, who was, perhaps, rather too
+much inclined to give in easily. Life came very easy to him, anyhow.
+"It's very nice of you to put us up, Joe. By the way, how is your
+father since the operation?"
+
+"Oh, he has almost entirely recovered. His eyesight is better than ever,
+he says."
+
+"How lovely!" cried Mabel. "And how lucky it was, Joe, that your share
+of the money your team got for winning the pennant helped to make the
+operation possible."
+
+"Yes, I sure do owe a debt of gratitude to baseball," admitted the young
+pitcher.
+
+"Do you play ball?" suddenly asked the man on the seat beside Joe.
+
+"Yes, I play at it," was the modest answer.
+
+"Amateur or professional?"
+
+"Professional. I am with the Central League."
+
+Was it fancy, or did the man give a sudden start, that might indicate
+surprise? Joe could not be sure.
+
+"I suppose you'll be at it again this year, Joe," put in Reggie.
+
+"Oh, yes. But I may change my club. I'll tell you about it later. We'll
+soon be at the house. Is there any special place I can take you to, in
+Riverside?" asked Joe of the stranger.
+
+"Well, I'm looking for a young fellow named Matson," was the unexpected
+answer.
+
+"Matson?" cried Joe. "Why, that's my name!"
+
+"Joe Matson?" the man exclaimed, drawing slightly away in order,
+possibly, to get a better look at the young player.
+
+"I'm Joe Matson--yes. Are you looking for me?"
+
+"I was, and I'm glad I found you!" the man exclaimed. "I've got a very
+special request to make of you. Is there some hotel, or boarding house,
+where I could put up, and where I could see you--later?" he asked,
+eagerly.
+
+"Why, yes, there are several such places in town," said Joe, slowly,
+trying, harder than ever, to place the man who had so unexpectedly
+appeared.
+
+"Take me to a quiet one--not too high-priced," requested the man in a
+low voice. "I want to see you on a very particular matter--that is, it's
+particular to me," he added, significantly. "Will you come and see
+me--after you take care of your friends?"
+
+"Why, yes, I guess so--perhaps to-morrow," replied Joe, for he did not
+fancy going out in the storm again that night. "But why can't you stop
+off at my house now?" he asked.
+
+"No, I don't want to do that," the man objected. "I'd rather you would
+come to see me," and there was a note of appeal in his voice.
+
+"Very well, I'll see you to-morrow," Joe promised, wondering if this
+man's seeking of him had any connection with his possible draft to the
+St. Louis Cardinals.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+THE THREAT
+
+
+"Here's a boarding house that will suit you, I think," announced Joe, a
+little later, as he stopped the horses in front of a sort of hostelry of
+good reputation. It was not as large nor as stylish as some of the other
+places in Riverside, but Joe bore in mind the man's request to be taken
+to a moderate-priced establishment.
+
+"Thanks," said the stranger. "Then you'll come here to see me to-morrow?
+I'll be in all day."
+
+"I'll call in the afternoon, Mr.--er----" and Joe hesitated. "I don't
+believe I caught your name," he said, significantly.
+
+"No, I didn't mention it, but it's Shalleg," was the answer.
+
+"Oh, of the Clevefield team!" exclaimed the young player, knowing now
+where he had heard the voice before.
+
+"Yes, of the Clevefield team," admitted Mr. Shalleg, repeating the name
+of one of the nines forming the Central League, and which team Joe's
+club had met several times on the diamond.
+
+"I was trying, ever since you spoke, to recall where I'd met you
+before," went on Joe, "but you had me guessing. I'm glad to meet you
+again. I suppose you're going to stay with the League this coming
+season?"
+
+"I--er--I haven't quite made my plans," was the somewhat hesitating
+answer. "I've been looking about. I was over in Rocky Ford this morning,
+seeing a friend, and I happened to recall that you lived in Riverside,
+so I came on, but lost my way in the storm. I didn't recognize you back
+there, where you had the upset."
+
+"The lack of recognition was mutual," laughed Joe, puzzling over what
+Shalleg's object could be in seeking him. "Well, I must get these folks
+in out of the storm," Joe went on. "I'll see you to-morrow, Mr.
+Shalleg."
+
+The latter alighted from the cutter, and entered the boarding house,
+while Joe turned the heads of the horses toward his own home.
+
+"I guess you'll be glad to get indoors," he said to Reggie and Mabel.
+
+"Well, it's pretty cold," Reggie admitted, "though I suppose my sister
+will say she likes it."
+
+"I do!" declared Mabel. "But it isn't so nice when it's dark," she
+confessed.
+
+They were now on the principal street of Riverside, and the lamps from
+the shop windows gleamed dimly on the swirling flakes, and drifts of
+snow.
+
+A little later Joe pulled up in front of his own house, and escorted the
+visitors into the cheery living room.
+
+"Here they are, Mother--Clara!" he called, as Mrs. Matson and her
+daughter came out to welcome their guests.
+
+"I am glad to see you," said Clara, simply, as she kissed Mabel----and
+one look from the sister's eyes told Joe that Clara approved of his
+friends.
+
+"Where's father?" asked Joe.
+
+"Bathing his eyes," replied his mother. "He'll be here presently," for
+Mr. Matson had recently undergone an operation on his eyes, after an
+accident, and they still needed care.
+
+Soon a merry party was gathered about the supper table, where the events
+of the day were told, from the receipt by Joe of the two letters, to the
+rescue from the stalled train, and the accident in the snow.
+
+"But I sure would like to know what it is Shalleg wants," mused Joe, who
+had come back from leaving the horses at the livery stable. "I sure
+would."
+
+"Didn't he give you any hint?" asked Clara.
+
+"No. But perhaps he wants some advice about baseball matters. I'm
+getting to be some pumpkins, you know, since St. Louis is after me!"
+cried Joe, with simulated pride.
+
+"Oh, do tell us about it!" cried Mabel, and Joe related the news of the
+draft that would probably take him to the big league.
+
+Reggie and Mabel spent the night at Joe's house. The storm kept up
+through the hours of darkness, and part of the next day, when it
+stopped, and the sun came out. Old Sol shone on a scene of whiteness,
+where big drifts of snow were piled here and there.
+
+"I wonder how the stalled train is faring?" remarked Mabel, after
+breakfast. "We'll have to get our trunks away from it, somehow, Reggie."
+
+"Yes, I suppose so," he said. "And I've got to look after those business
+matters. I think we had better go to the hotel," he added.
+
+"Very well," assented Joe. "I'll go down to the station with you, and
+we'll see about your baggage."
+
+"I'll stay here until you boys come back," decided Mabel, who had taken
+as great a liking to Clara, as the latter had to her.
+
+Joe and Reggie found that the train was still stalled in the snow drift,
+but a large force of shovelers was at work, and the prospect was that
+the line would be opened that afternoon. Thereupon Reggie went to the
+hotel to arrange about his own room, and one for his sister.
+
+"And I'll go see Shalleg," decided Joe. "Might as well get it over with,
+though I did tell him I wouldn't come until afternoon. I'm anxious to
+know what it's all about."
+
+"He's making a sort of mystery of it," observed Reggie.
+
+"Somewhat," admitted Joe, with a smile.
+
+Greatly to his relief (for Joe was anxious to get the matter over with)
+he found Shalleg at the boarding house when he called.
+
+"Come up to my room," invited the baseball player. "It's warmer than
+down in the parlor."
+
+In his room he motioned Joe to a chair, and then, looking intently at
+the young pitcher, said:
+
+"Matson, do you know what it is to be down and out?"
+
+"Down and out? What do you mean?"
+
+"I mean to have few friends, and less money. Do you know what that
+means?"
+
+"Well, not personally," said Joe, "though I can't boast of a superfluity
+of money myself."
+
+"You've got more than I have!" snapped Shalleg.
+
+"I don't know about that," said Joe, slowly, wondering whither the
+conversation was leading.
+
+"Your team won the pennant!" cried the man, and Joe, as he caught the
+odor of his breath, realized what made Shalleg's manner so excited. The
+man was partially intoxicated. Joe wished he had not come. "Your team
+won the pennant," Shalleg went on, "and that meant quite a little money
+for every player. You must have gotten your share, and I'd like to
+borrow some of you, Matson. I'm down and out, I tell you, and I need
+money bad--until I can get on my feet again."
+
+Joe did not answer for a moment, but mentally he found a reason for
+Shalleg's being "off his feet" at present. Bad habits, very likely.
+
+"Can you let me have some money--until Spring opens?" proceeded Shalleg.
+"You'll be earning more then, whether I am or not, for I don't know that
+I'm going back with Clevefield. I suppose you'll play with the Pittston
+team?"
+
+"I don't know," answered Joe, preferring to reply to that question
+first. He wanted time to think about the other.
+
+"You don't know!" Shalleg exclaimed, in surprise.
+
+"No. I hear I am to be drafted to the St. Louis Nationals."
+
+"The St. Louis Nationals!" cried Shalleg. "That team! Why, that team is
+the one I----"
+
+He came to a sudden halt.
+
+"What is it?" asked Joe, wonderingly.
+
+"I--er--I--er--well, never mind, now. Can you let me have--say, two
+hundred dollars?"
+
+"Two hundred dollars!" cried Joe. "I haven't that much money to spare.
+And, if I had, I don't know that I would be doing my duty to my father
+and mother to lend it."
+
+"But I need it!" cried Shalleg. "Did you ever know what it was to be
+down and out?"
+
+"Well, I've seen such sad cases, and I'm sorry for you," spoke Joe,
+softly. He thought of John Dutton, the broken-down pitcher whose rescue,
+from a life of ruin, had been due largely to our hero's efforts, as told
+in the volume immediately preceding this.
+
+"Being sorry isn't going to help," sneered Shalleg, and there was an
+ugly note in his voice. "I need money! You must have some left from your
+pennant winnings."
+
+"I had to spend a large sum for my father's operation," said Joe. "He
+has had bad luck, too. I really have no money to spare."
+
+"That's not so--I don't believe you!" snapped Shalleg. "You must have
+money, and I've got to get some. I've been begging from a lot of fellows
+who played ball with me, but they all turned me down. Now you're doing
+the same thing. You'd better be careful. I'm a desperate man!"
+
+"What do you mean?" asked Joe, in some alarm, for he thought the fellow
+meditated an attack. Joe looked to see with what he could defend
+himself, and he noted, though with no cowardly satisfaction, that the
+door to the hall was close at hand.
+
+"I mean just what I say. I'm desperately in need of money."
+
+"Well, I'm very sorry, but I'm not in a position to be able to help
+you," said Joe, firmly. "Why don't you go to the manager of your team,
+and get him to give you an advance on your salary? That is often done.
+I'm sure if you told him your need he'd do it."
+
+"No, he wouldn't!" growled Shalleg. "I've got to borrow it somewhere
+else. Then you won't let me have it?" and he glowered at Joe.
+
+"I can't, even if I would."
+
+"I don't believe it!" snarled the other. "And now I tell you one thing.
+I'm a bad man to be bad friends with. If you don't let me have this
+money it will be the worse for you."
+
+"I guess you are forgetting yourself," returned Joe, quietly. "I did not
+come here to be threatened, or insulted. I guess you are not yourself,
+Mr. Shalleg. I am sorry, and I'll bid you good day."
+
+With that Joe walked out, but not before the infuriated man called after
+him:
+
+"And so you're going to St. Louis; are you? Well, look out for me,
+that's all I've got to say! Look out for Bill Shalleg!" and he slammed
+the door after Joe.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+A WARNING
+
+
+Joe Matson's brain was in a whirl as he left the boarding house where
+Shalleg had made his strange threat. The young pitcher had never before
+gone through such an experience, and it had rather unnerved him.
+
+"I wonder what I'd better do?" he mused, as he walked along the street,
+where many men were busy clearing away the snow. "I don't like to report
+what he said to me to any of the baseball authorities, for it would look
+as though I was afraid of him. And I'm not!" declared Joe, sturdily.
+"Shalleg wasn't himself, or he wouldn't have said such things. He didn't
+know quite what he was doing, I guess."
+
+But, the more Joe thought of it, as he trudged along, the more worried
+he became.
+
+"He has a very bad temper, and he might do me some injury," mused Joe.
+"But, after all, what _can_ he do? If he stays on the Clevefield team,
+and I go to St. Louis, we'll be far enough apart. I guess I won't do
+anything about it now."
+
+But the youth could not altogether conceal the emotions that had swayed
+him during the strange interview. When, a little later, he called at the
+hotel to see if Reggie and his sister had comfortable rooms, his face
+must have showed something unusual, for Mabel asked:
+
+"Why, Joe, what is the matter?"
+
+"Matter? Nothing," he replied, with a laugh, but it was rather forced.
+
+"You look as though--something had happened," the girl went on. "Perhaps
+you haven't recovered from your efforts to rescue us from the stalled
+train last night."
+
+"Oh, yes, I'm all over that," declared Joe, more at his ease now.
+
+"It was awfully good of you," proceeded Mabel. "Just think; suppose we
+had had to stay in that train until now?"
+
+"Oh, they've been relieved by this time," spoke Joe.
+
+"Yes, but they had to stay there all night. I can't thank you enough for
+coming after us. Are you sure there is nothing the matter?" she
+insisted. "You haven't had bad news, about not making the St. Louis
+team; have you?"
+
+"No, indeed. I haven't had any news at all since that one letter from
+Mr. Gregory. And no news is good news, they say."
+
+"Not always," and she smiled.
+
+"Are you comfortable here?" asked Joe, as he sat in the parlor between
+the bedrooms of brother and sister.
+
+"Oh, yes. And Reggie likes it very much. He has a lot of business to
+attend to. Father is putting more and more on his shoulders each year.
+He wants him finally to take it up altogether. Reggie doesn't care so
+much for it, but it's good for him," and she smiled frankly at Joe.
+
+"Yes, work is good," he admitted, "even if it is only playing baseball."
+
+"And that sometimes seems to me like hard work," responded Mabel.
+
+"It is," Joe admitted. "How long do you stay in Riverside?"
+
+"Three or four days yet. Why?"
+
+"Because there'll be good sleighing, and I thought perhaps you'd like to
+go out for a ride."
+
+"I shall be delighted!"
+
+"Then I'll arrange for it. Won't you come over to the house this
+evening?"
+
+"I have an engagement," she laughed.
+
+Joe looked disappointed. Mabel smiled.
+
+"It's with your sister," she said. "I promised to come over and learn a
+new lace pattern."
+
+"I'm just crazy about fancy work myself!" and Joe laughed in turn. "It's
+as bad as the new dances. I guess I'll stay home, too."
+
+"Do," Mabel invited. And when Joe took his leave some of the worry
+caused by Shalleg's threat had passed away.
+
+"I guess I'll say nothing about it," mused our hero. "It would do no
+good, and if father and mother heard about it they might worry. I'll
+just fight it out all alone. I guess Shalleg was only a 'bluff,' anyhow.
+He may be in desperate straits, but he had no right to make threats like
+that."
+
+Riverside was storm-bound for several days, and when she was finally dug
+out, and conditions were normal, there was still plenty of snow left for
+sleighing. Joe planned to take Mabel for a ride, and Reggie, hearing of
+it, asked Clara to be his guest.
+
+Two or three days passed, and Joe neither saw nor heard any more of
+Shalleg, except to learn, by judicious inquiry, that the surly and
+threatening fellow had left the boarding house to which Joe had taken
+him.
+
+"I guess he's gone off to try his game on some other players in the
+League," thought the young pitcher. "I hope he doesn't succeed, though.
+If he got money I'm afraid he'd make a bad use of it."
+
+There came another letter from Mr. Gregory, in which he told Joe that,
+while the matter was still far from being settled, the chances were that
+the young pitcher would be drafted to St. Louis.
+
+"I will let you know, in plenty of time, whether you are to train with
+us, or with the big league," the manager of the Pittston team wrote. "So
+you will have to hold yourself in readiness to do one or the other."
+
+"They don't give you much choice; do they?" spoke Reggie, when Joe told
+him this news. "You've got to do just as they tell you; haven't you?"
+
+"In a measure, yes," assented Joe. "Baseball is big business. Why, I
+read an article the other day that stated how over fifty million persons
+pay fifteen million dollars every year just to see the games, and the
+value of the different clubs, grounds and so on mounts up to many
+millions more."
+
+"It sure is big business," agreed Reggie. "I might go into it myself."
+
+"Well, more than one fortune has been made at it," observed Joe.
+
+"But I don't like the idea of the club owners and managers doing as they
+please with the players. It seems to take away your freedom," argued the
+other lad.
+
+"Well, in a sense I suppose it does," admitted Joe. "And yet the
+interests of the players are always being looked after. We don't have to
+be baseball players unless we want to; but, once we sign a contract, we
+have to abide by it.
+
+"Then, too, the present organization has brought to the players bigger
+salaries than they ever got before. Of course we chaps in the minor
+leagues aren't bid for, as are those in the big leagues. But we always
+hope to be."
+
+"It seems funny, for one manager to buy a player from another manager,"
+went on Reggie.
+
+"I suppose so, but I've grown sort of used to it," Joe replied. "Of
+course the players themselves don't benefit by the big sum one manager
+may give another for the services of a star fielder or pitcher, but it
+all helps our reputations."
+
+"Is the St. Louis team considered pretty good?" Reggie wanted to know.
+
+"Well, it could be better," confessed Joe, slowly. "They reached one
+place from the top of the second division last season, but if I play
+with them I'll try to pull them to the top of the second half, anyhow,"
+he added, with a laugh. "The Cardinals never have been considered so
+very good, but the club is a money-maker, and we can't all be pennant
+winners," he admitted, frankly.
+
+"No, I suppose not," agreed Reggie. "Well, I wish you luck, whatever you
+do this Summer. If I ever get out to St. Louis I'll stop off and see you
+play."
+
+"Do," urged Joe. He hoped Mabel would come also.
+
+When Joe reached home that afternoon his mother met him in the living
+room, and said quickly:
+
+"Someone is waiting for you in the parlor, Joe."
+
+"Gracious! I hope it isn't Shalleg!" thought the young pitcher. "If he
+has come here to make trouble----" And his heart sank.
+
+But as he entered the room a glad smile came over his face.
+
+"Hello, Charlie Hall!" he cried, at the sight of the shortstop of the
+Pittston team, with whom Joe had been quite chummy during the league
+season. "What good wind blows you here?"
+
+"Oh, you know I'm a traveling salesman during the Winter, and I happened
+to make this town to-day. Just thought I'd step up and see how you
+were."
+
+"Glad you did! It's a real pleasure to see you. Going back at the game
+in the Spring, I expect; aren't you?"
+
+"Sure. I wouldn't miss it for anything. But what's this I hear about
+you?"
+
+"I don't know. Nothing to my discredit, I hope," and Joe smiled.
+
+"Far from it, old man. But there's a rumor among some of the old boys
+that you're to be drafted to the Cardinals. How about it?"
+
+"Well, Gregory told me as much, but it isn't all settled yet. Say,
+Charlie, now you're here, I want to ask you something."
+
+"Fire ahead."
+
+"Do you know a fellow named Shalleg?"
+
+Charlie Hall started.
+
+"It's queer you should ask me that," he responded, slowly.
+
+"Why?" Joe wanted to know.
+
+"Because that's one of the reasons I stopped up to talk to you. I want
+to warn you against Shalleg."
+
+"Warn me! What do you mean?" and Joe thought of the threats the man had
+made.
+
+"Why, you know he's out of the Clevefield team; don't you?"
+
+"No, I didn't know it," replied Joe. "But go on. I'll tell you something
+pretty soon."
+
+"Yes, he's been given his unconditional release," went on Charlie. "He
+got to gambling, and doing other things no good ball player can expect
+to do, and keep in the game, and he was let go. And I heard something
+that made me come here to warn you, Joe. There may be nothing in it, but
+Shalleg----"
+
+There came a knock at the door of the parlor, and Joe held up a warning
+hand.
+
+"Wait a minute," he whispered.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+BASEBALL TALK
+
+
+There was silence for a moment, following Joe's warning, and then the
+voice of his mother was heard:
+
+"Joe, you're wanted on the telephone."
+
+"Oh, all right," he answered in a relieved tone. "I didn't want her to
+hear about Shalleg," he added in a whisper to Charlie. "She and father
+would worry, and, with his recent sickness, that wouldn't be a good
+thing for him."
+
+"I should say not," agreed the other ball player.
+
+"I'll be right there, Mother," went on Joe, in louder tones and then he
+went to the hall, where the telephone stood. It was only a message from
+a local sporting goods dealer, saying that he had secured for Joe a
+certain glove he had had made to order.
+
+Joe went back to his chum, and the baseball talk was renewed.
+
+"What were you going to say that Shalleg was up to?" asked Joe.
+
+"As I was saying," resumed Charlie, "there may be nothing in the rumor,
+but it's the talk, in baseball circles, that Shalleg has been trying his
+best, since being released, to get a place with the Cardinals."
+
+"You don't mean it!" cried Joe. "That accounts for his surprise, and
+perhaps for his bitter feeling against me when I told him there was a
+chance that I would go to St. Louis."
+
+"Probably," agreed Charlie. "So, having heard this, and knowing that
+Shalleg is a hard character, I thought I'd warn you."
+
+"I'm glad you did," returned Joe warmly. "It was very good of you to go
+to that trouble. And, after the experience I had with Shalleg, I
+shouldn't wonder but what there was something in it. Though why he
+should be vindictive toward me is more than I can fathom. I certainly
+never did anything to him, except to refuse to lend him money, and I
+actually had to do that."
+
+"Of course," agreed Charlie. "But I guess, from his bad habits, his mind
+is warped. He is abnormal, and your refusal, coupled with the fact that
+you are probably going to a team that he has tried his best to make, and
+can't, simply made him wild. So, if I were you, I should be on the
+lookout, Joe."
+
+"I certainly will. It's queer that I met Shalleg the way I did--in the
+storm. It was quite an unusual coincidence. It seems he had been to
+Rocky Ford, a town near here, to see if he could borrow money from
+somebody there--at least so he said. Then he heard I lived here, and he
+started for Riverside, and got lost on the way, in the storm. Altogether
+it was rather queer. I never was so surprised in my life as when, after
+riding with me for some time, the man said he was looking for me."
+
+"It _was_ queer," agreed Charlie. "Well, the only thing to do, after
+this, is to steer clear of him. And, after all, it may only be talk."
+
+"Yes," assented Joe, "and now let's talk about something pleasant. How
+are you, anyhow? What are your plans for the coming season? And how are
+all the boys since we played the last pennant game?"
+
+"Gracious!" exclaimed Charlie with a laugh. "You fire almost as many
+questions at a fellow as a lawyer would."
+
+Then the two plunged into baseball talk, which, as it has no special
+interest for my readers, I shall omit.
+
+"Have you anything special to do?" asked Joe, as Charlie and he came to
+a pause in recalling scenes and incidents, many of which you will find
+set down in the previous book of this series.
+
+"No. After I clean up all the orders I can here I will have a few days'
+vacation," replied Hall.
+
+"Good!" cried Joe. "Then spend them with me. Reggie Varley and his
+sister are here for a while--you remember Reggie; don't you, Charlie?"
+
+"As well as you remember his sister, I reckon," was the laughing
+rejoinder.
+
+"Never mind that. Then I'll count on you. I'll introduce you to a nice
+girl, and we'll get up a little sleigh-riding party. There'll be a fine
+moon in a couple of nights."
+
+"Go as far as you like with me," invited Charlie. "I'm not in training
+yet, and I guess a late oyster supper, after a long ride, won't do me
+any particular harm."
+
+Charlie departed for the hotel, to get his baggage, for he was going to
+finish out the rest of his stay in Riverside as Joe's guest, and the
+young pitcher went to get the new glove, about which he had received the
+telephone message.
+
+It was a little later that day that, as Clara was passing her brother's
+room, she heard a curious, thumping noise.
+
+"I wonder what that is?" she murmured. "Sounds as though Joe were
+working at a punching bag. Joe, what in the world are you doing?" she
+asked, pausing outside his door.
+
+"Making a pocket in my new glove," he answered. "Come on in, Sis. I'm
+all covered with olive oil, or I'd open the door for you."
+
+"Olive oil! The idea! Are you making a salad, as well?" she asked
+laughingly, as she pushed open the portal.
+
+She saw her brother, attired in old clothes, alternately pouring a few
+drops of olive oil on his new pitcher's glove, and then, with an old
+baseball pounding a hollow place in the palm.
+
+"What does it mean?" asked Clara.
+
+"Oh, I'm just limbering up my new glove," answered Joe. "If I'm to play
+with a big team, like the St. Louis Cardinals, I want to have the best
+sort of an outfit. You know a ball will often slip out of a new glove,
+so I'm making a sort of 'pocket' in this one, only not as deep as in a
+catcher's mitt, so it will hold the ball better."
+
+"But why the olive oil?"
+
+"Oh, well, of course any good oil would do, but this was the handiest.
+The oil softens the leather, and makes it pliable. And say, if you
+haven't anything else to do, there's an old glove, that's pretty badly
+ripped; you might sew it up. It will do to practice with."
+
+"I'll sew it to-morrow, Joe. I've got to make a new collar now. Mabel
+and I are going to the matinee, and I want to look my best."
+
+"Oh, all right," agreed Joe easily. "There's no special hurry," and he
+went on thumping the baseball into the hollow of the new glove.
+
+"Well, Joe, is there anything new in the baseball situation?" asked Mr.
+Matson of his son a little later. The inventor, whose eyesight had been
+saved by the operation (to pay for which most of Joe's pennant money
+went) was able to give part of his time to his business now.
+
+"No, there's not much new, Dad," replied the young player. "I am still
+waiting to hear definitely about St. Louis. I do hope I am drafted
+there."
+
+"It means quite an advance for you; doesn't it, Joe?"
+
+"Indeed it does, Dad. There aren't many players who are taken out of a
+small league, to a major one, at the close of their first season. I
+suppose I ought to be proud."
+
+"Well, I hope you are, Joe, in a proper way," said Mr. Matson. "Pride,
+of the right sort, is very good. And I'm glad of your prospective
+advance. I am sure it was brought about by hard work, and, after all,
+that is the only thing that counts. And you did work hard, Joe."
+
+"Yes, I suppose I did," admitted the young pitcher modestly, as he
+thought of the times he pitched when his arm ached, and when his nerves
+were all unstrung on account of the receipt of bad news. "But other
+fellows worked hard, too," he went on. "You've _got_ to work hard in
+baseball."
+
+"Will it be any easier on the St. Louis team?" his father wanted to
+know.
+
+"No, it will be harder," replied Joe. "I might as well face that at
+once."
+
+And it was well that Joe had thus prepared himself in advance, for
+before him, though he did not actually know it, were the hardest
+struggles to which a young pitcher could be subjected.
+
+"Yes, there'll be hard work," Joe went on, "but I don't mind. I like it.
+And I'm not so foolish as to think that I'm going to go in, right off
+the reel, and become the star pitcher of the team. I guess I'll have to
+sit back, and warm the bench for quite a considerable time before I'm
+called on to pull the game out of the fire."
+
+"Well, that's all right, as long as you're there when the time comes,"
+said his father. "Stick to it, Joe, now that you are in it. Your mother
+didn't take much to baseball at first, but, the more I see of it, and
+read of it, the more I realize that it's a great business, and a clean
+sport. I'm glad you're in it, Joe."
+
+"And I am too, Dad."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+THE QUARREL
+
+
+"Are we all here?"
+
+"Oh, what a glorious night!"
+
+"Did you ever see such a moon!"
+
+"Looks about as big as a baseball does when you're far from first and
+the pitcher is heaving it over, to tag you out!"
+
+This last observation from Joe Matson.
+
+"Oh, what an unpoetical remark to make!"
+
+That from Mabel Varley.
+
+There came a chorus of laughter, shouts, good-natured jibes, little
+shrieks and giggles from the girls, and chuckles from the young men.
+
+"Well, let's get started," proposed Joe.
+
+It was the occasion of the sleigh ride that Joe had gotten up,
+ostensibly for the enjoyment of a number of his young friends, but, in
+reality for Mabel, who, with her brother, was still staying on in
+Riverside, for the Varley business was not yet finished.
+
+It was a glorious, wintry night, and in the sky hung the silvery moon,
+lighting up a few fleecy clouds with glinting beams, and bringing into
+greater brightness the sparkling snow that encrusted the earth.
+
+"Count noses," suggested Charlie Hill, who, with a young lady to whom
+Joe had introduced him a day or so before, was in the sleighing party.
+
+"I'll help," volunteered Mabel, who, of course, was being escorted by
+Joe, while Reggie had Clara under his care. Mabel and Joe made sure that
+all of their party were present. They were gathered in the office of the
+livery stable, whence they were to start, to go to a hotel about twelve
+miles distant--a hotel famous for its oyster suppers, as many a
+sleighing party, of which Joe had been a member, could testify.
+Following the supper there was to be a little dance, and the party,
+properly chaperoned, expected to return some time before morning.
+
+"Yes, I guess we're all here," Joe announced, as he looked among the
+young people. And it was no easy task to make sure, for they were
+constantly shifting about, going here and there, friends greeting
+friends.
+
+Four sturdy horses were attached to a big barge, in the bottom of which
+had been spread clean straw, for it was quite frosty, and, in spite of
+heavy wraps and blankets, feet would get cold. But the straw served, in
+a measure, to keep them warm.
+
+"All aboard!" cried Charlie Hill, who had made himself a general
+favorite with all of Joe's friends. "All aboard!"
+
+"Why don't you say 'play ball'?" asked Mabel, with a laugh. "It seems to
+me, with a National Leaguer with us, the least we could do would be to
+make that our rallying cry!" Mabel was a real "sport."
+
+"I'm not a big leaguer yet," protested Joe. "Don't go too strong on
+that. I may be turned back into the bushes."
+
+"Not much danger," commented Charlie, as he thought of the fine work Joe
+had done in times past. Joe was a natural born pitcher, but he had
+developed his talents by hard work, as my readers know.
+
+Into the sled piled the laughing, happy young folks, and then, snugly
+tucked in, the word was given, and, with a merry jingle of bells, away
+they went over the white snow.
+
+There were the old-time songs sung, after the party had reached the open
+country, and had taken the edge off their exuberance by tooting tin
+horns. "Aunt Dinah's Quilting Party," "My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean,"
+"Old Black Joe"--all these, and some other, more modern, songs were
+sung, more or less effectively. But, after all, it was the spirit and
+not the melody that counted.
+
+On over the snowy road went the big sled, pulled by the willing horses,
+who seemed all the more willing because of the joyous party they were
+dragging along.
+
+"Look out for this grade-crossing," remarked Joe to the driver, for they
+were approaching the railroad.
+
+"I will, Joe," the man replied. "I have good occasion to remember this
+place, too."
+
+"So have I," spoke Mabel, in a low voice to her escort. "There is where
+we were snowed in; isn't it?" she asked, nodding in the direction of
+Deep Rock Cut.
+
+"That's the place," replied Joe.
+
+"Yes, sir, I have occasion to remember this place," went on the driver.
+"And I'm always careful when I cross here, ever since, two years ago, I
+was nearly run down by a train. I had just such a load of young folks as
+I've got now," he went on.
+
+"How did it happen?" asked Reggie, as the runners scraped over the bare
+rails, a look up and down the moon-lit track showing no train in sight.
+
+"Well, the party was making quite a racket, and I didn't hear the
+whistle of the train," resumed the driver. "It was an extra, and I
+didn't count on it. We were on our way home, and we had a pretty narrow
+escape. Just got over in time, I tell you. The young folks were pretty
+quiet after that, and I was glad it happened on the way home, instead of
+going, or it would have spoiled all their fun. And, ever since then,
+whether I know there's a train due or not, I'm always careful of this
+crossing."
+
+"It makes one feel ever so much safer to have a driver like him," spoke
+Mabel to Clara.
+
+"Oh, we can always trust Frank," replied Joe's sister.
+
+Laughing, shouting, singing and blowing the horns, the party went on its
+merry way, until the hotel was reached.
+
+Everything was in readiness for the young people, for the arrangements
+had been made in advance, and soon after the girls had "dolled-up," as
+Joe put it, by which he meant arranged their hair, that had become blown
+about under the scarfs they wore, they all sat down to a
+bountifully-spread table.
+
+"Reminds me of the dinner we had, after we won the pennant," said
+Charlie Hall.
+
+"Only it's so different," added Joe. "That was a hot night."
+
+Talk and merry laughter, mingled with baseball conversation went around
+the table. Joe did not care to "talk shop," but somehow or other, he
+could not keep away from the subject that was nearest his heart. Nor
+could Charlie, and the two shot diamond discussion back and forth, the
+others joining in occasionally.
+
+The meal was drawing to an end. Reggie Varley, pouring out a glass of
+water, rose to his feet.
+
+"Friends and fellow citizens," he began in a sort of "toastmaster
+voice."
+
+"Hear! Hear!" echoed Charlie, entering into the spirit of the occasion.
+
+"We have with us this evening," went on Reggie, in the approved manner
+of after-dinner introductions, "one whom you all well know, and whom it
+is scarcely necessary to name----"
+
+"Hear! Hear!" interrupted Charlie, pounding on the table with his knife
+handle.
+
+All eyes were turned toward Joe, who could not help blushing.
+
+"I rise to propose the health of one whom we all know and love," went on
+Reggie, "and to assure him that we all wish him well in his new place."
+
+"Better wait until I get it," murmured Joe, to whom this was a great
+surprise.
+
+"To wish him all success," went on Reggie. "And I desire to add that, as
+a token of our esteem, and the love in which we hold him, we wish to
+present him this little token--and may it be a lucky omen for him when
+he is pitching away in the big league," and with this Reggie handed to
+Joe a stick-pin, in the shape of a baseball, the seams outlined in
+diamonds, and a little ruby where the trademark would have been.
+
+Poor Joe was taken quite by surprise.
+
+"Speech! Speech!" came the general cry.
+
+Joe fumbled the pin in his fingers, and for a moment there was a mist
+before his eyes. This little surprise had been arranged by Reggie, and
+he had quietly worked up the idea among Joe's many young friends, all of
+whom had contributed to the cost of the token.
+
+"Go on! Say something!" urged Mabel, at Joe's side.
+
+"Well--er--well, I--er--I don't know what to say," he stammered, "except
+that this is a great surprise to me, and that I--er--I thank you!"
+
+He sat down amid applause, and someone started up the song "For He's a
+Jolly Good Fellow!"
+
+It was sung with a will. Altogether the affair was successfully carried
+out, and formed one of the most pleasant remembrances in the life of
+Baseball Joe.
+
+After the presentation, others made impromptu speeches, even the girls
+being called on by Reggie, to whom the position of toastmaster
+particularly appealed.
+
+The supper was over. The girls were in the dressing room, donning their
+wraps, and Joe and Reggie had gone to the office to pay the bill.
+
+The proprietor of the hotel was in the men's room, and going there Joe
+was greeted by name, for the hotel man knew him well.
+
+"Everything satisfactory, Mr. Matson?" the host asked, and at the
+mention of Joe's name, a rough-looking fellow, who was buying a cigar,
+looked up quickly.
+
+"Yes, Mr. Todd, everything was fine," replied Joe, not noticing the
+man's glance. "Now we'll settle with you."
+
+"No hurry," said the proprietor. "I hear you're going to leave us
+soon--going up to a higher class in baseball, Joe."
+
+"Well, there's some talk of it," admitted our hero, and as he took out
+the money to make the payment, the rough-looking man passed behind him.
+Joe dropped a coin, and, in stooping to pick it up, he moved back a
+step. As he did so, he either collided with the man, who had observed
+him so narrowly, or else the fellow deliberately ran into Joe.
+
+"Look out where you're walking! You stepped on my foot!" exclaimed the
+man in surly tones. "Can't you see what you're doing? you country gawk!"
+
+"I beg your pardon," spoke Joe quietly, but a red flush came into his
+face, and his hands clenched involuntarily.
+
+"Huh! Trying to put on high society airs; eh?" sneered the other. "I'll
+soon take that out of you. I say you stepped on me on purpose."
+
+"You are mistaken," said Joe, still quietly.
+
+"Huh! Do you mean to say I'm sayin' what ain't so?" demanded the other.
+
+"If you like to put it that way; yes," declared Joe, determined to stand
+upon his rights, for he felt that it had not been his fault.
+
+"Be careful," warned Reggie, in a low voice.
+
+"Say, young feller, I don't allow nobody to say that to me!" blustered
+the fellow, advancing on Joe with an ugly look. "You'll either beg my
+pardon, or give me satisfaction! I'll----"
+
+"Now here. None of that!" interposed the proprietor. "You aren't hurt,
+Wessel."
+
+"How do you know? And didn't he accuse me of----"
+
+"Oh, get out. You're always ready to pick a quarrel," went on the hotel
+man. "Move on!"
+
+"Well, then let him beg my pardon," insisted the other. "If he don't,
+I'll take it out of him," and his clenched fist indicated his meaning
+only too plainly.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+JOE IS DRAFTED
+
+
+For a moment Joe stood facing the angry man--unnecessarily angry, it
+seemed--since, even if the young ball player had trod on his foot, the
+injury could not have amounted to much.
+
+"I told you once that I was sorry for having collided with you, though I
+do not believe it was my fault," spoke Joe, holding himself in check
+with an effort. "That is all I intend to say, and you may make the most
+of it."
+
+"I'll make the most of you, if you don't look out!" blustered the man.
+"If you'll just step outside we can settle this little argument to the
+queen's taste," and he seemed very eager to have Joe accept his
+challenge.
+
+"Now see here! There'll be no fighting on these premises," declared the
+hotel proprietor, with conviction.
+
+"No, we'll do it outside," growled the man.
+
+"Not with me. I don't intend to fight you," said Joe as quietly as he
+could.
+
+"Huh! Afraid; eh?"
+
+"No, not afraid."
+
+"Well, you're a coward and a----"
+
+"That will do, Wessel. Get out!" and the proprietor's voice left no room
+for argument. The man slunk away, giving Joe a surly look, and then the
+supper bill was paid, and receipted.
+
+"Who was he?" asked Joe, when the fellow was out of sight.
+
+"Oh, I don't know any good of him," replied the hotel man. "He's been
+hanging around town ever since the ball season closed."
+
+"Is he a player?" Joe inquired.
+
+"No. I'm inclined to think he's a gambler. I know he was always wanting
+to make bets on the games around here, but no one paid much attention to
+him. You don't know him; do you?"
+
+"Never saw him before, as far as I recollect," returned Joe slowly. "I
+wonder why he wanted to pick a quarrel with me? For that was certainly
+his object."
+
+"It was," agreed Reggie, "and he didn't pay much attention to you until
+he heard your name."
+
+"I wonder if he could be----?" began Joe, and then he hesitated in his
+half-formed question. Reggie looked at his friend inquiringly, but Joe
+did not proceed.
+
+"Don't say anything about this to the girls," requested Joe, as they
+went upstairs.
+
+"Oh, no, of course not," agreed Reggie. "He was only some loafer, I
+expect, who had a sore head. Best to keep it quiet."
+
+Joe was more upset by the incident than he liked to admit. He could not
+understand the man's motive in trying so hard to force him into a fight.
+
+"Not that I would be afraid," reasoned Joe, for he was in good
+condition, and in splendid fighting trim, due to his clean living and
+his outdoor playing. "I think I could have held my own with him," he
+thought, "only I don't believe in fighting, if it can be avoided.
+
+"But there was certainly something more than a little quarrel back of it
+all. Wessel is his name; eh? I must remember that."
+
+Joe made a mental note of it, but he little realized that he was to hear
+the name again under rather strange circumstances.
+
+"What's the matter?" asked Mabel, on the way home in the sleigh, drawn
+by the prancing horses with their jingling bells.
+
+"Why?" parried Joe.
+
+"You are so quiet."
+
+"Well--I didn't count on so much happening to-night."
+
+"You mean about that little pin? I think it's awfully sweet."
+
+"Did you help pick it out?" asked Joe, seeing a chance to turn the
+conversation.
+
+"Yes. Reggie asked me what I thought would be nice, and I chose that."
+
+"Couldn't have been better," declared Joe, with enthusiasm. "I shall
+always keep it!"
+
+They rode on, but Joe could not shake off the mood that had seized him.
+He could not forget the look and words of the man who endeavored to
+force a quarrel with him--for what object Joe could only guess.
+
+"I'm sure there's something the matter," insisted Mabel, when the song
+"Jingle Bells!" had died away. "Have I done anything to displease you?"
+she asked, for she had "split" one dance with Charlie Hall.
+
+"No, indeed!" cried Joe, glad that he could put emphasis into his
+denial. "There's nothing really the matter."
+
+"Unless you're sorry you're going away out to Missouri," persisted the
+girl.
+
+"Well, I am sorry--that is, if I really have to go," spoke the young
+ball player sincerely. "Of course it isn't at all certain that I will
+go."
+
+"Oh, I guess it's certain enough," she said. "And I really hope you do
+go."
+
+"It's pretty far off," said Joe. "I'll have to make my headquarters in
+St. Louis."
+
+"Reggie and I expect to be in the West a good part of the coming
+Summer," went on Mabel, in even tones. "It's barely possible that
+Reggie may make his business headquarters in St. Louis, for papa's
+trade is shifting out that way."
+
+"You don't mean it!" cried Joe, and some of his companions in the sleigh
+wondered at the warmth of his tone.
+
+"Oh, yes, I do," said Mabel. "So I shall see you play now and then; for
+I'm as ardent a 'fan' as I ever was."
+
+"That's good," returned Joe. "I'm glad I'm going to a major league--that
+is, if they draft me," he added quickly. "I didn't know you might be out
+there."
+
+From then on the thought of going to St. Louis was more pleasant to Joe.
+
+The sleigh ride was a great success in every particular. The young
+people reached home rather late--or, rather early in the morning, happy
+and not too tired.
+
+"It was fine; wasn't it?" whispered Clara, as she and her brother
+tip-toed their way into the house, so as not to awaken their parents.
+
+"Dandy!" he answered softly.
+
+"Weren't you surprised about the pin?"
+
+"Of course I was."
+
+"But you don't seem exactly happy. Is something worrying you? I heard
+Mabel ask you the same thing."
+
+"Did you?" inquired Joe, non-committally.
+
+"Yes. Is anything the matter?"
+
+"No, Sis. Get to bed. It's late."
+
+Clara paused for a moment. She realized that Joe had not answered her
+question as she would have liked.
+
+"But I guess he's thinking of the change he may have to make," the
+sister argued. "Joe is a fine fellow. He certainly has gone ahead in
+baseball faster than he would have done in some other line of endeavor.
+Well, it's good he likes it.
+
+"And yet," she mused, as she went to her room, "I wonder what it is that
+is worrying him?"
+
+If she could have seen Joe, at that same moment, sitting on the edge of
+a chair in his apartment, moodily staring at the wall, she would have
+wondered more.
+
+"What was his game?" thought Joe, as he recalled the scene with the man
+at the hotel. "What was his object?"
+
+But he could not answer his own question.
+
+Joe's sleep was disturbed the remainder of that night--short as the
+remainder was.
+
+At breakfast table, the next morning, the story of the jolly sleigh ride
+was told to Mr. and Mrs. Matson. Of course Joe said nothing of the
+dispute with the surly man.
+
+"And here's the pin they gave me," finished the young player as he
+passed around the emblem that had been so unexpectedly presented to
+him.
+
+His mother was looking at it when the doorbell rang, and the maid, who
+answered it, brought back a telegram.
+
+"It's for Mr. Joseph," she announced.
+
+Joe's face was a little pale as he tore open the yellow envelope, and
+then, as he glanced at the words written on the sheet of paper, he
+exclaimed:
+
+"It's settled! I'm drafted to St. Louis!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+OFF TO ST. LOUIS
+
+
+For a few seconds, after Joe's announcement, there was silence in the
+room. Then, as the realization of what it meant came to them, Clara was
+the first to speak.
+
+"I'm _so_ glad, Joe," she said, simply, but there was real meaning in
+her words.
+
+"And I congratulate you, son," added Mr. Matson. "It's something to be
+proud of, even if St. Louis isn't in the first division."
+
+"Oh, they'll get there, as soon as I begin pitching," declared Joe with
+a smile.
+
+Mrs. Matson said nothing for a while. Her son, and the rest of the
+family, knew of her objection to baseball, and her disappointment that
+Joe had not entered the ministry, or some of the so-called learned
+professions.
+
+But, as she looked at the smiling and proud face of her boy she could
+not help remarking:
+
+"Joe, I, too, am very glad for your sake. I don't know much about
+sporting matters, but I suppose this is a promotion."
+
+"Indeed it is, Mother!" Joe cried, getting up to go around the table and
+kiss her. "It's a fine promotion for a young player, and now it's up to
+me to make good. And I will, too!" he added earnestly.
+
+"Is that all Mr. Gregory, your former manager, says in the telegram?"
+asked Mr. Matson.
+
+"No, he says a letter of explanation will follow, and also a contract to
+sign."
+
+"Will you get more money, Joe?" asked Clara.
+
+"Sure, Sis. I know what you're thinking of," Joe added, with a smile at
+the girl, as he put his stick-pin in his scarf. "You're thinking of the
+ring I promised to buy you if I got this place. Well, I'll keep my word.
+You can go down and get measured for it to-day."
+
+"Oh, Joe, what a good brother you are!" she cried.
+
+"Then you really will get more money?" asked Mrs. Matson, and her voice
+was a bit eager. Indeed Joe's salary, and the cash he received as his
+share of the pennant games, had been a blessing to the family during Mr.
+Matson's illness, for the inventor had lost considerable funds.
+
+"Yes, I'll get quite a bit more," said Joe. "I got fifteen hundred a
+year with the Pittstons, and Mr. Gregory said I ought to get at least
+double that if I go with St. Louis. It will put us on Easy Street; won't
+it, Momsey?"
+
+"It will be very welcome," she replied, with a sigh, but it was rather a
+happy sigh at that. She had known the pinch of hard times in her day,
+had Mrs. Matson.
+
+"I'd have to be at the game of lawyering or doctoring a long while,
+before I'd get an advance like this," went on Joe, as he read the
+telegram over a second time. And then he put it carefully in his pocket,
+to be filed away with other treasures, such as young men love to look at
+from time to time; a faded flower, worn by "Someone," a letter or two,
+a--but there, I promised not to tell secrets.
+
+The first one who knew of his promotion, after the folks at home, was
+Mabel. Joe made some excuse to call at the hotel. Reggie was out on
+business, but Joe did not mind that.
+
+"Oh, I'm so glad--for your sake, Joe!" exclaimed Mabel warmly. "I hope
+you make a great reputation!"
+
+"It won't be from lack of trying," he said, with a smile. "And I do hope
+you can get out to St. Louis this Summer."
+
+"We expect to," she answered. "I have been there with Reggie several
+times."
+
+"What sort of a place is it?" asked Joe eagerly, "and where does my
+team play?" he inquired, with an accent on the "my."
+
+"There are two major league teams in St. Louis," explained Mabel, who,
+as I have said, was an ardent "fan." She was almost as good as a boy in
+this respect. "The National League St. Louis team, or the 'Cardinals,'
+as I suppose you know they are nicknamed, plays on Robison Field, at
+Vandeventer and Natural Bridge road. I've often been out there to games
+with Reggie, but I'll look forward to seeing them now, with a lot more
+pleasure," she added, blushing slightly.
+
+"Thanks," laughed Joe. "I guess I'll be able to find my way about the
+city. But, after all, I'll be likely to strike it with the team, for
+I'll probably have to go South training before I report in St. Louis."
+
+"It isn't hard to find your way about St. Louis," went on Mabel. "Just
+take a Natural Bridge line car, and that'll bring you out to Robison
+Field. Or you can take a trunk line, and transfer to Vandeventer. But
+the best way is the Natural Bridge route. Is there anything else you'd
+like to know?" she asked, with a smile. "Information supplied at short
+notice. The Browns, or American League team, play at Grand and
+Dodier----"
+
+"Oh, I'm not interested in them!" interrupted Joe. "I'm going to stick
+to my colors--cardinal."
+
+"And I'll wear them, too," said Mabel in a low voice, and the blush in
+her cheeks deepened. Already she was wearing Joe's color.
+
+"This is our last day here," the girl went on, after a pause.
+
+"It is?" cried Joe in surprise. "Why, I thought----"
+
+"I'm sorry, too," she broke in with. "You have given Reggie and me a
+lovely time. I've enjoyed myself very much."
+
+"Not half as much as _I_ have," murmured Joe.
+
+Reggie came in a little later, and congratulated the young player, and
+then Charlie Hall added his good wishes. It was his last day in town
+also, and he and the Varleys left on the same train, Joe and his sister
+going to the station to see them off.
+
+"If you get snowed in again, just let me know," called Joe, with a
+laugh, as the train pulled out. "I'll come for you in an airship."
+
+"Thanks!" laughed Mabel, as she waved her hand in a final good-bye.
+
+As Joe was leaving the station a train from Rocky Ford pulled in, and
+one of the passengers who alighted from it was the ill-favored man who
+had endeavored to pick a quarrel with Joe at the hotel the night
+before.
+
+The fellow favored the young player with a surly glance, and seemed
+about to approach him. Then, catching sight of Clara at her brother's
+side, he evidently thought better of it, and veered off.
+
+Joe's face must have showed his surprise at the sight of the man, for
+Clara asked:
+
+"Who is that fellow, Joe? He looked at you in such a peculiar way. Do
+you know him?"
+
+Joe was glad he could answer in the negative. He really did not know the
+man, and did not want to, though it certainly seemed strange that he
+should encounter him again.
+
+"He seems to know you," persisted Clara, for the man had looked back at
+Joe twice.
+
+"Maybe he thinks he does, or maybe he wants to," went on the pitcher,
+trying to speak indifferently. "Probably he's heard that I'm the coming
+twirling wonder of the Cardinals," and he pretended to swell up his
+chest, and look important.
+
+"Nothing like having a good opinion of yourself," laughed Clara.
+
+That afternoon's mail brought Joe a letter from Mr. Gregory, in which
+the news contained in the telegram was confirmed. It was also stated
+that Joe would receive formal notice of his draft from the St. Louis
+team, and his contract, which was to be signed in duplicate.
+
+"I wish he'd said something about salary," mused our hero. "But probably
+the other letter, from the St. Louis manager, will have that in, and the
+contract will, that's certain."
+
+The following day all the details were settled. Joe received formal
+notice of his draft from the Pittstons to the St. Louis Cardinals. He
+was to play for a salary of three thousand dollars a year.
+
+In consideration of this he had to agree to certain conditions, among
+them being that he would not play with any other team without permission
+from the organized baseball authorities, and, as long as he was in the
+game, and accepted the salary, he would be subject to the call of any
+other team in the league, the owners of which might wish to "purchase"
+him; that is, if they paid the St. Louis team sufficient money.
+
+"I wonder what they'll consider me worth, say at the end of the first
+season?" said Joe to Clara.
+
+"What a way to talk!" she exclaimed. "As if you were a horse, or a
+slave."
+
+"It does sound a bit that way," he admitted, "and some of the star
+players bring a lot more than valuable horses. Why, some of the players
+on the New York Giants cost the owners ten and fifteen thousand dollars,
+and the Pittsburgh Nationals paid $22,500 for one star fellow as a
+pitcher. I hope I get to be worth that to some club," laughed Joe, "but
+there isn't any danger--not right off the bat," he added with a smile.
+
+"Well, that's a part of baseball I'm not interested in," said Clara. "I
+like to see the game, but I watch it for the fun in it, not for the
+money."
+
+"And yet there has to be money to make it a success," declared Joe.
+"Grounds, grandstands and trips cost cash, and the owners realize on the
+abilities of the players. In return they pay them good salaries. Many a
+player couldn't make half as much in any other business. I'm glad I'm in
+it."
+
+Joe signed and returned the contract, and from then on he was the
+"property" of the St. Louis team, and subject to the orders of the
+owners and manager.
+
+A few days later Joe received his first instructions--to go to St.
+Louis, report to the manager, and then go South to the training camp,
+with the team. There his real baseball work, as a member of a big
+league, would start.
+
+Joe packed his grip, stowing away his favorite bat and his new pitcher's
+glove, said good-bye to his family and friends in Riverside, and took a
+train that eventually would land him in St. Louis, at the Union Depot.
+
+The journey was without incident of moment, and in due time Joe reached
+the hotel where he had been told the players were quartered.
+
+"Is Mr. Watson here?" he asked the clerk, inquiring for the manager.
+
+"I think you'll find him in the billiard room," replied the clerk,
+sizing up Joe with a critical glance. "Here, boy, show this gentleman to
+Mr. Watson," went on the man at the register.
+
+"Do you know him by sight?" he asked.
+
+"No," replied Joe, rather sorry he did not.
+
+"I know him!" exclaimed the bellboy, coming forward, with a cheerful
+grin on his freckled face. "He sure has a good ball team. I hope they
+win the pennant this year. Are you one of the players?" he asked.
+
+"One of the new ones," spoke Joe, modestly enough.
+
+"Gee! Dat's great!" exclaimed the lad admiringly. "There's 'Muggins'
+Watson over there," and he pointed to a man in his shirt sleeves,
+playing billiards with a young fellow whom Joe recognized, from having
+seen his picture in the papers, as 'Slim' Cooney, one of the St. Louis
+pitchers.
+
+"Mr. Watson?" inquiringly asked Joe, waiting until the manager had made,
+successfully, a difficult shot, and stood at rest on his cue.
+
+"That's my name," and a pair of steel-blue eyes looked straight at our
+hero. "What can I do for you?"
+
+"I'm Joe Matson, and----"
+
+"Oh, yes, the new recruit I signed up from Pittston. Well, this is the
+first time I've seen you. Took you on the report of one of my men. Glad
+to meet you," and he held out a firm hand. "Slim," he went on to his
+opponent at billiards, "let me make you acquainted with one of your
+hated rivals--Joe Matson. Matson, this is our famous left-hand twirler."
+
+Joe laughed and shook hands. He liked the manager and the other player.
+I might state, at this point, that in this book, while I shall speak of
+the players of the Cardinals, and of the various National League teams,
+I will not use their real names, for obvious reasons. However, if any of
+you recognize them under their pseudonyms, I cannot help it.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+GOING DOWN SOUTH
+
+
+"Well, are you going to help us win the pennant, Matson?" asked Manager
+Watson, when he had introduced Joe to a number of the other St. Louis
+players, who were lounging about the billiard room. It was a cold and
+blustery day outside, and the hotel, where the team had lately taken up
+quarters, ready for the trip to the South, offered more comfort than the
+weather without.
+
+"I'm going to do my best," replied Joe modestly, and he blushed, for
+most of the other players were older than he, many of them seasoned
+veterans, and the heroes of hard-fought contests.
+
+"Well, we sure do need help, if we're to get anywhere," murmured Hal
+Doolin, the snappy little first baseman. "We sure do!"
+
+"You needn't look at me!" fired back Slim Cooney. "I did my share of the
+work last season, and if I'd had decent support----"
+
+"Easy now, boys!" broke in Mr. Watson. "You know what the papers said
+about last year--that there were too many internal dissensions among the
+Cardinals to allow them to play good ball. You've got to cut that out if
+I'm going to manage you."
+
+I might add that Sidney Watson, who had made a reputation as a
+left-fielder, and a hard hitter on the Brooklyn team, had lately been
+offered the position as manager of the Cardinals, and had taken it. This
+would be his first season, and, recognizing the faults of the team, he
+had set about correcting them in an endeavor to get it out of the
+"cellar" class. Quarrels, bickerings and disputes among the players had
+been too frequent, he learned, and he was trying to eliminate them.
+
+"Have a heart for each other, boys," he said to the men who gathered
+about him, incidentally to covertly inspect Joe, the recruit. "It wasn't
+anybody's fault, in particular, that you didn't finish in the first
+division last season. But we're going to make a hard try for it this
+year. That's why I've let some of your older players go, and signed up
+new ones. I'm expecting some more boys on in a few days, and then we'll
+hike for the Southland and see what sort of shape I can pound you into."
+
+"Don't let me keep you from your game," said Joe to the manager. "Oh,
+I'll let Campbell finish it for me, he's better at the ivories than I
+am," and Watson motioned for the centre fielder to take the cue. "I'll
+see what sort of a room we can give you," the manager went on. "Nothing
+like being comfortable. Did you have a good trip?"
+
+"Yes, indeed."
+
+"Contract satisfactory, and all that?"
+
+"Oh, yes. And, by the way, Mr. Watson, if it isn't asking too much I'd
+like to know how you came to hear of me and sign me up?"
+
+"Oh, I had scouts all over last fall," said the manager with a smile.
+"One of them happened to see you early in the season, and then he saw
+the game you pitched against Clevefield, winning the pennant. You looked
+to him like the proper stuff, so I had you drafted to our club."
+
+"I hope you won't repent of your bargain," observed Joe, soberly.
+
+"Well, I don't think I will, and yet baseball is pretty much of a chance
+game after all. I've often been fooled, I don't mind admitting. But,
+Matson, let me tell you one thing," and he spoke more earnestly, as they
+walked along a corridor to the lobby of the hotel. "You mustn't imagine
+that you're going in right off the reel and clean things up. You'll have
+to go a bit slow. I want to watch you, and I'll give you all the
+opportunity I can.
+
+"But you must remember that I have several pitchers, and some of them
+are very good. They've been playing in the big leagues for years. You're
+a newcomer, and, unless I'm much mistaken, you'll have a bit of stage
+fright at first. That's to be expected, and I'm looking for it. I won't
+be disappointed if you fall down hard first along. But whatever else you
+do, don't get discouraged and--don't lose your nerve, above all else."
+
+"I'll try not to," promised Joe. But he made up his mind that he would
+surprise the manager and make a brilliant showing as soon as possible.
+Joe had several things to learn about baseball as it is played in the
+big leagues.
+
+"I guess I'll put you in with Rad Chase," said Manager Watson, as he
+looked over the page of the register, on which were the names of the
+team. "His room is a good one, and you'll like him. He's a young chap
+about your age."
+
+"Was he in there?" asked Joe, nodding toward the billiard room, where he
+had met several of the players.
+
+"No. I don't know where he is," went on the manager. "Is Rad out?" he
+asked of the clerk.
+
+That official, stroking his small blonde mustache, turned to look at the
+rack. From the peg of room 413 hung the key.
+
+"He's out," the clerk announced.
+
+"Well, you might as well go up and make yourself at home," advised the
+manager. "I'll tell Rad you're quartered with him. Have his grip taken
+up," went on Mr. Watson to the clerk.
+
+"Front!" called the young man behind the desk, and when the same
+freckle-faced lad, who had pointed out to Joe the manager, came
+shuffling up, the lad took our hero's satchel, and did a little one-step
+glide with it toward the elevator.
+
+"Tanks," mumbled the same lad, as Joe slipped a dime into his palm, when
+the bellboy had opened the room door and set the grip on the floor by
+the bed. "Say, where do youse play?" he asked with the democratic
+freedom of the American youth.
+
+"Well, I'm supposed to be a pitcher," said Joe.
+
+"Left?"
+
+"No, right."
+
+"Huh! It's about time the Cardinals got a guy with a right-hand
+delivery!" snorted the boy. "They've been tryin' southpaws and been
+beaten all over the lots. Got any speed?"
+
+"Well, maybe a little," admitted Joe, smiling at the lad's
+ingenuousness.
+
+"Curves, of course?"
+
+"Some."
+
+"Dat's th' stuff! Say, I hopes you make good!" and the lad, spinning
+the dime in the air, deftly caught it, and slid out of the room.
+
+Joe looked after him. He was entering on a new life, and many emotions
+were in conflict within him. True, he had been at hotels before, for he
+had traveled much when he was in the Central League. But this time it
+was different. It seemed a new world to him--a new and big world--a much
+more important world.
+
+And he was to be a part of it. That was what counted most. He was in a
+Big League--a place of which he had often dreamed, but to which he had
+only aspired in his dreams. Now it was a reality.
+
+Joe unpacked his grip. His trunk check he had given to the clerk, who
+said he would send to the railroad station for the baggage. Then Joe
+changed his collar, put on a fresh tie, and went down in the elevator.
+He wanted to be among the players who were to be his companions for the
+coming months.
+
+Joe liked Rad Chase at once. In a way he was like Charlie Hall, but
+rather older, and with more knowledge of the world.
+
+"Do you play cards?" was Rad's question, after the formalities of
+introduction, Joe's roommate having come in shortly after our hero went
+down.
+
+"Well, I can make a stab at whist, but I'm no wonder," confessed Joe.
+
+"Do you play Canfield solitaire?"
+
+"Never heard of it."
+
+"Shake hands!" cried Rad, and he seemed relieved.
+
+"Why?" asked Joe.
+
+"Well, the fellow I roomed with last year was a fiend at Canfield
+solitaire. He'd sit up until all hours of the morning, trying to make
+himself believe he wasn't cheating, and I lost ten pounds from not
+getting my proper sleep."
+
+"Well, I'll promise not to keep you awake that way," said Joe with a
+laugh.
+
+"Do you snore?" Rad wanted next to know.
+
+"I never heard myself."
+
+Rad laughed.
+
+"I guess you'll do," he said. "We'll hit it off all right."
+
+Joe soon fell easily into the life at the big hotel. He met all the
+other players, and while some regarded him with jealous eyes, most of
+them welcomed him in their midst. Truth to tell, the St. Louis team was
+in a bad way, and the players, tired of being so far down on the list,
+were willing to make any sacrifices of professional feeling in order to
+be in line for honors, and a share in the pennant money, providing it
+could be brought to pass that they reached the top of the list.
+
+Joe spent a week at the hotel while Manager Watson was arranging matters
+for the trip South. One or two players had not yet arrived, "dickers"
+being under way for their purchase.
+
+But finally the announcement was made that the start for the training
+camp, at Reedville, Alabama, would be made in three days.
+
+"And I'm glad of it!" cried Rad Chase, as he and Joe came back one
+evening from a moving picture show, and heard the news. "I'm tired of
+sitting around here doing nothing. I want to get a bat in my hands."
+
+"So do I," agreed Joe. "It sure will be great to get out on the grass
+again. Have you ever been in Reedville?"
+
+"No, but I hear it's a decent place. There's a good local team there
+that we brush up against, and two or three other teams in the vicinity.
+It'll be lively enough."
+
+"Where do you like to play?" asked Joe.
+
+"Third's my choice, but I hear I'm to be soaked in at short. I hate it,
+too, but Watson seems to think I fill in there pretty well."
+
+"I suppose a fellow has to play where he's considered best, whether he
+wants to or not," said Joe. "I hope I can pitch, but I may be sent out
+among the daisies for all that."
+
+"Well, we've got a pretty good outfield as it is," went on Rad. "I
+guess, from what I hear, that you'll be tried out on the mound, anyhow.
+Whether you stick there or not will be up to you."
+
+"It sure is," agreed Joe.
+
+A box-party was given at the theatre by the manager for the players, to
+celebrate their departure for the South. The play was a musical comedy,
+and some of the better known players were made the butt of jokes by the
+performers on the stage.
+
+This delighted Joe, and he longed for the time when he would be thought
+worthy of such notice. The audience entered into the fun of the
+occasion, and when the chief comedian came out, and, in a witty address,
+presented Manager Watson with a diamond pin, and wished him all success
+for the coming season, there were cheers for the team.
+
+"Everybody stand up!" called Toe Barter, one of the veteran pitchers.
+"Seventh inning--everybody stretch!"
+
+The players in the two boxes arose to face the audience in the theatre,
+and there were more cheers. Joe was proud and happy that he was a part
+of it all.
+
+That night he wrote home, and also to Mabel, telling of his arrival in
+St. Louis, and all that had happened since.
+
+"We leave for the South in the morning," he concluded.
+
+The departure of the players on the train was the occasion for another
+celebration and demonstration at the depot. A big crowd collected,
+several newspaper photographers took snapshots, and there were cheers
+and floral emblems.
+
+Joe wished his folks could have been present. Compared to the time when
+he had gone South to train for the Pittston team, this was a big
+occasion.
+
+A reporter from the most important St. Louis paper was to accompany the
+team as "staff correspondent," for St. Louis was, and always has been, a
+good "fan" town, and loyal to the ball teams.
+
+"All aboard!" called the conductor.
+
+There were final cheers, final good-byes, final hand-shakes, final
+wishes of good luck, and then the train pulled out. Joe and his
+teammates were on their way South.
+
+It was the start of the training season, and of what would take place
+between that and the closing Joe little dreamed.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+THE QUARRELING MAN
+
+
+Quite a little family party it was the St. Louis players composed as
+they traveled South in their private car, for they enjoyed that
+distinction. This was something new for Joe, as the Pittston team was
+not blessed with a wealthy owner, and an ordinary Pullman had sufficed
+when Joe made his former trip. Now it was travel "de luxe."
+
+The more Joe saw of Rad Chase the more he liked the fellow, and the two
+soon became good friends, being much in each other's company, sharing
+the upper and lower berths by turns in their section, eating at the same
+table, and fraternizing generally.
+
+Some of the older players were accompanied by their wives, and after the
+first few hours of travel everyone seemed to know everyone else, and
+there was much talk and laughter.
+
+"Can't you fellows supply me with some dope?" asked a voice in the aisle
+beside the seats occupied by Joe and Rad. "I've gotten off all the
+departure stuff, and I want something for a lead for to-morrow. Shoot
+me some new dope; will you?"
+
+"Oh, hello, Jim!" greeted Rad, and then, as Joe showed that he did not
+recognize the speaker, the other player went on: "This is the
+_Dispatch-Times's_ staff correspondent, Jim Dalrymple. You want to be
+nice to him, Joe, and he'll put your name and picture in the paper. Got
+anything you can give him for a story?"
+
+"I'm afraid not," laughed Joe.
+
+"Oh, anything will do, as long as I can hang a lead on it," said
+Dalrymple hopefully. "If you've never tried to get up new stuff every
+day at a training camp of a ball team, you've no idea what a little
+thing it takes to make news. Now you don't either of you happen to have
+a romance about you; do you?" he inquired, pulling out a fold of copy
+paper. (Your real reporter never carries a note book. A bunch of paper,
+or the back of an envelope will do to jot down a few facts. The rest is
+written later from memory. Only stage reporters carry note books, and,
+of late they are getting "wise" and abstaining from it.)
+
+"A romance?" repeated Joe. "Far be it from me to conceal such a thing
+about my person."
+
+"But you _have_ had rather a rapid rise in baseball; haven't you, Joe?"
+insinuated Rad. "You didn't have to wait long for promotion. Why not
+make up a yarn about that?" went on Rad, nodding at the reporter.
+
+"Sure I'll do it. Give me a few facts. Not too many," the newspaper man
+said with a whimsical smile. "I don't want to be tied down too hard. I
+like to let my fancy have free play."
+
+"He's all right," whispered Rad in an aside to Joe. "One of the best
+reporters going, and he always gives you a fair show. If you make an
+error he'll debit you with it, but when you play well he'll feature you.
+He's been South with the team a lot of times, I hear."
+
+"But I don't like to talk about myself," objected Joe.
+
+"Don't let that worry you!" laughed Rad. "Notoriety is what keeps
+baseball where it is to-day, and if it wasn't for the free advertising
+we get in the newspapers there would not be the attendance that brings
+in the dollars, and lets us travel in a private car. Don't be afraid of
+boosting yourself. The reporters will help you, and be glad to. They
+have to get the stuff, and often enough it's hard to do, especially at
+the training camp."
+
+In some way or other, Joe never knew exactly how, Dalrymple managed to
+get a story out of him, about how Joe had been drafted, how he had begun
+playing ball as a boy on the "sand lots," how he had pitched Yale to
+victory against Princeton, and a few other details, with which my
+readers are already familiar.
+
+"Say, this'll do first rate!" exulted the reporter, as he went to a
+secluded corner to write his story, which would be telegraphed back to
+his daily newspaper. "I'm glad I met you!" he laughed.
+
+Dalrymple was impartial, which is the great secret of a newspaper
+reporter's success. Though he gave Joe a good "show," he also "played
+up" some of the other members of the team. So that when copies of the
+paper were received later, they contained an account of Joe's progress,
+sandwiched in between a "yarn" of how the catcher had once worked in a
+boiler factory, where he learned to catch red-hot rivets, and how one of
+the outfielders had inherited a fortune, which he had dissipated, and
+then, reforming, had become a star player. So Joe had little chance to
+get a "swelled head," which is a bad thing for any of us.
+
+The first part of the journey South was made in record time, but after
+the private car was transferred to one of the smaller railroad lines
+there were delays that fretted the players.
+
+"What's the matter?" asked Manager Watson of the conductor as that
+official came through after a long stop at a water tank station, "won't
+the cow get off the track?" and he winked at the players gathered about
+him.
+
+"That joke's a hundred years old," retorted the ticket-taker. "Think up
+a new one! There's a freight wreck ahead of us, and we have to go slow."
+
+"Well, as long as we get there some time this week, it will be all
+right, I reckon," drawled the manager.
+
+Reedville was reached toward evening of the second day, and the
+travel-weary ball-tossers piled out of their coach to find themselves at
+the station of a typical Southern town.
+
+Laziness and restfulness were in the air, which was warm with the heat
+of the slowly setting sun. There was the odor of flowers. Colored men
+were all about, shuffling here and there, driving their slowly-ambling
+horses attached to rickety vehicles, or backing them up at the platform
+to get some of the passengers.
+
+"Majestic Hotel right this yeah way, suh! Right over yeah!" voiced the
+driver of a yellow stage. "Goin' right up, suh!"
+
+"That's our place, boys," announced the manager. "Pile in, and let me
+have your checks. I'll have the baggage sent up."
+
+Joe and the others took their place in the side-seated stage. A little
+later, the manager having arranged for the transportation of the
+trunks, they were driven toward the hotel that was to be their
+headquarters while in the South.
+
+They were registering at the hotel desk, and making arrangements about
+who was to room with who, when Joe heard the hotel clerk call Mr. Watson
+aside.
+
+"He says he's with your party, suh," the clerk spoke. "He arrived
+yesterday, and wanted to be put on the same floor with your players.
+Says he's going to be a member of the team."
+
+"Huh! I guess someone is bluffing you!" exclaimed the manager. "I've got
+all my team with me. Who is the fellow, anyhow?"
+
+"That's his signature," went on the clerk, pointing to it on the hotel
+register.
+
+"Hum! Wessel; eh?" said Mr. Watson. "Never heard of him. Where is he?"
+
+"There he stands, over by the cigar counter."
+
+Joe, who had heard the talk, looked, and, to his surprise, he beheld the
+same individual who had tried to pick a quarrel with him the night of
+the sleigh ride.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+UNDER SUNNY SKIES
+
+
+"That man!" exclaimed Mr. Watson, as he gave the stranger a quick
+glance. "No, I don't know him, and he certainly isn't a member of my
+team. He isn't going to be, either; as far as I know. I'm expecting some
+other recruits, but no one named Wessel."
+
+Joe said nothing. He was wondering if the man would recognize him, and,
+perhaps, renew that strange, baseless quarrel. And, to his surprise, the
+man did recognize him, but merely to bow. And then, to Joe's further
+surprise, the individual strolled over to where the manager and some of
+the players were standing, and began:
+
+"Is this Mr. Watson?"
+
+"That's my name--yes," but there was no cordiality in the tone.
+
+"Well, I'm Isaac Wessel. I used to play short on the Rockpoint team in
+the Independent League. My contract has expired and I was wondering
+whether you couldn't sign me up."
+
+"Nothing doing," replied Mr. Watson, tersely. "I have all the material I
+need."
+
+"I spoke to Mr. Johnson about it," naming one of the owners of the St.
+Louis team, "and he said to see you."
+
+"Did he tell you to tell me to put you on?"
+
+"No, I wouldn't go so far as to say that," was the hesitating reply.
+
+"And did he say I was to give you a try-out?"
+
+"Well, he--er--said you could if you wanted to."
+
+"Well, I _don't_ want to," declared the manager with decision. "And I
+want to say that you went too far when you told the clerk here you
+belonged to my party. I don't know you, and I don't want anything to do
+with a man who acts that way," and Mr. Watson turned aside.
+
+"Well, I didn't mean any harm," whined Wessel. "The--er--I--er--the
+clerk must have misunderstood me."
+
+"All right. Let it go at that," was all the answer he received.
+
+"Then you won't give me a chance?"
+
+"No."
+
+The man evidently realized that this was the end, for he, too, turned
+aside. As he did so he looked sneeringly at Joe, and mumbled:
+
+"I suppose you think you're the whole pitching staff now?"
+
+Joe did not take the trouble to answer. But, though he ignored the man,
+he could not help wondering what his plan was in coming to the training
+camp. Could there be a hidden object in it, partly covered by the
+fellow's plea that he wanted to get on the team?
+
+"Do you often have cases like that, Mr. Watson?" Joe asked the manager
+when he had a chance.
+
+"Like what, Matson?"
+
+"Like that Wessel."
+
+"Oh, occasionally. But they don't often get as fresh as he did. The idea
+of a bush-leaguer thinking he could break into the majors like that. He
+sure had nerve! Well, now I hope we're all settled, and can get to work.
+We've struck good weather, anyhow."
+
+And indeed the change from winter to summer was little short of
+marvelous. They had come from the land of ice and snow to the warm
+beauty of sunny skies. There was a feeling of spring in the air, and the
+blood of every player tingled with life.
+
+"Say, it sure will be great to get out on the diamond and slam the ball
+about; won't it?" cried Joe to Rad Chase, as the two were unpacking in
+their hotel room.
+
+"That's what! How are you on stick work?"
+
+"Oh, no better than the average pitcher," replied Joe, modestly. "I had
+a record of .172 last season."
+
+"That's not so worse," observed Rad.
+
+"What's yours?" asked Joe.
+
+"Oh, it runs around .250."
+
+"Good!" cried Joe. "I hope you get it up to .300 this year."
+
+"Not much chance of that. I was picked because I'm pretty good with the
+stick--a sort of pinch hitter. But then that's not being a star
+pitcher," he added, lest Joe feel badly at the contrast in their batting
+averages.
+
+"Oh, I'm far from being a star, but I'd like to be in that class.
+There's my best bat," and he held out his stick.
+
+"Oh, you like that kind; eh?" spoke Rad. "Well, I'll show you what I
+favor," and then the two plunged into a talk that lasted until meal
+time.
+
+The arrival of the St. Louis team in the comparatively small town of
+Reedville was an event of importance. There was quite a crowd about the
+hotel, made up mostly of small boys, who wanted a chance to see the
+players about whom they had read so much.
+
+After the meal, as Joe, Rad and some of the others strolled out for a
+walk about the place, our hero caught murmurs from the crowd of lads
+about the entrance.
+
+"There's 'Toe' Barter," one lad whispered, nodding toward a veteran
+pitcher.
+
+"Yes, and that fellow walking with him is 'Slim' Cooney. He pitched a
+no-hit, no-run game last year."
+
+"Sure, I know it. And that fellow with the pipe in his mouth is 'Dots'
+McCann, the shortstop. He's a peach!"
+
+And so it went on. Joe's name was not mentioned by the admiring throng.
+
+"Our turn will come later," said Rad, with a smile.
+
+"I guess so," agreed his chum, somewhat dubiously.
+
+Reedville was a thriving community, and boasted of a good nine, with
+whom the St. Louis team expected to cross bats a number of times during
+the training season. Then, too, in nearby towns, were other teams, some
+of them semi-professional, who would be called on to sacrifice
+themselves that the Cardinals might have something to bring out their
+own strong and weak points.
+
+"Let's go over to the grounds," suggested Joe.
+
+"I'm with you," agreed Rad.
+
+"Say, you fellows won't be so anxious to head for the diamond a little
+later in the season," remarked "Doc" Mullin, one of the outfielders.
+"You'll be only too glad to give it the pass-up; won't they?" he
+appealed to Roger Boswell, the trainer and assistant manager.
+
+"Well, I like to see young fellows enthusiastic," said Boswell, who had
+been a star catcher in his day. But age, and an increasing deposit of
+fat, had put him out of the game. Now he coached the youngsters, and
+when "Muggins," as Mr. Watson was playfully called, was not on hand he
+managed the games from the bench. He was a star at that sort of thing.
+
+"Go to it, boys," he advised Joe and Rad, with a friendly nod. "You
+can't get too much baseball when you're young."
+
+The diamond at Reedville was nothing to boast of, but it would serve
+well enough for practice. And the grandstand was only a frail, wooden
+affair, nothing like the big one at Robison Field, in St. Louis.
+
+Joe and Rad walked about the field, and longed for the time when they
+would be out on it in uniform.
+
+"Which will be about to-morrow," spoke Rad, as Joe mentioned his desire.
+"We'll start in at light work, batting fungo and the like, limbering up
+our legs, and then we'll do hard work."
+
+"I guess so," agreed Joe.
+
+The weather could not have been better. The sun shone warmly from a
+blue sky, and there was a balmy spiciness to the southern wind.
+
+Rad and Joe walked about town, made a few purchases, and were turning
+back to the hotel when they saw "Cosey" Campbell, the third baseman,
+standing in front of a men's furnishing store.
+
+"I say, fellows, come here," he called to the two. They came. "Do you
+think that necktie is too bright for a fellow?" went on Campbell,
+pointing to a decidedly gaudy one in the show window.
+
+"Well, it depends on who's going to wear it," replied Rad, cautiously.
+
+"Why, I am, of course," was the surprised answer. "Who'd you s'pose?"
+
+"I didn't know but what you were buying it to use for a foul line flag,"
+chuckled Rad, for Campbell's weakness for scarfs was well known. He
+bought one or two new ones every day, and, often enough, grew
+dissatisfied with his purchase before he had worn it. Then he tried to
+sell it to some other member of the team, usually without success.
+
+"Huh! Foul flag!" grunted Campbell. "Guess you don't know a swell tie
+when you see it. I'm going to get it," he added rather desperately, as
+though afraid he would change his mind.
+
+"Go ahead. We'll go in and see fair play," suggested Joe, with a smile.
+
+The tie was purchased, and the clerk, after selling the bright scarf,
+seeing that Campbell had a package in his hand, inquired:
+
+"Shall I wrap them both up together for you?"
+
+"If you don't mind," replied the third baseman. And, in tying up the
+bundle, the one Campbell had been carrying came open, disclosing three
+neckties more gaudy, if possible, than the one he had just purchased.
+
+"For the love of strikes!" cried Rad. "What are you going to do; start a
+store?"
+
+"Oh, I just took a fancy to these in a window down street," replied
+Campbell easily. "Rather neat; don't you think?" and he held up a red
+and green one.
+
+"Neat! Say, they look like the danger signals in the New York subway!"
+cried Rad. "Shade your eyes, Joe, or you won't be able to see the ball
+to-morrow!"
+
+"That shows how much taste you fellows have," snapped Campbell. "Those
+are swell ties."
+
+But the next day Joe heard Campbell trying to dispose of some of the
+newly purchased scarfs to "Dots" McCann.
+
+"Go ahead, 'Dots,' take one," pleaded the baseman. "You need a new tie,
+and I've got more than I want. This red and green one, now; it's real
+swell."
+
+"Go on!" cried the other player. "Why I'd hate to look at myself in a
+glass with that around my neck! And you'd better not wear it, either--at
+least, not around town."
+
+"Why not?" was the wondering answer.
+
+"Because you might scare some of the mules, and there'd be a runaway.
+Tie a stone around it, Campbell, and drown it. It makes so much noise I
+can't sleep," and with that McCann walked off, leaving behind him a very
+indignant teammate.
+
+That night notice was given that all the players would assemble at the
+baseball diamond in uniform next morning.
+
+"That's the idea!" cried Joe. "Now for some real work."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+HARD WORK
+
+
+The rooms of the ball players were all in one part of the hotel, along
+the same hall. Joe and Rad were together, near the stairway going down.
+
+That night, their first in the training camp, there was considerable
+visiting to and fro among the members of the team, and some little
+horse-play, for, after all, the players were like big boys, in many
+respects.
+
+Rad, who had been in calling on some of his fellow players, came back to
+the room laughing.
+
+"What's up?" asked Joe, who was writing a letter.
+
+"Oh, Campbell is still trying to get rid of that hideous tie we helped
+him purchase. He wanted to wish it on to me."
+
+"And of course you took it," said Joe, with a smile.
+
+"Of course I did _not_. Well, I guess I'll turn in. We'll have plenty to
+do to-morrow."
+
+"That's right. I'll be with you as soon as I finish this letter."
+
+But Rad was sound asleep when Joe had finished his correspondence, and
+slipped downstairs to leave it at the desk for the early mail. Joe
+looked around the now almost deserted lobby, half expecting to see the
+strange man, Wessel, standing about. But he was not in sight.
+
+"I wonder what his game is, after all?" mused Joe. "I seem to have been
+running into two or three queer things lately. There's Shalleg, who
+bears me a grudge, though I don't see why he should, just because I
+couldn't lend him money, and then there's this fellow--I only hope the
+two of them don't go into partnership against me. I guess that's hardly
+likely to happen, though."
+
+But Joe little realized what was in store for him, and what danger he
+was to run from these same two men.
+
+Joe awakened suddenly, about midnight, by hearing someone moving around
+the room. He raised himself softly on his elbow, and peered about the
+apartment, for a dim light showed over the transom from the hall
+outside. To Joe's surprise the door, which he had locked from the inside
+before going to bed, now stood ajar.
+
+"I wonder if Rad can be sick, and have gone out?" Joe thought. "Maybe he
+walks in his sleep."
+
+He looked over toward his chum's bed, but could not make out whether or
+not Rad was under the covers. Then, as he heard someone moving about
+the apartment he called out:
+
+"That you, Rad?"
+
+Instantly the noise ceased, to be resumed a moment later, and Joe felt
+sure that someone, or something, went past the foot of his bed and out
+into the hall.
+
+"That you, Rad?" he called again.
+
+"What's that? Who? No, I'm here," answered the voice of his chum.
+"What's the matter?"
+
+Joe sprang out of bed, and in one bound reached the corridor. By means
+of the one dim electric lamp he saw, going down the stairs, carrying a
+grip with him, the mysterious man who had tried to quarrel with him. He
+was evidently taking "French leave," going out in the middle of the
+night to "jump" his hotel bill.
+
+"What's up?" asked Rad, as he, too, left his bed. "What is it, Joe?"
+
+The young pitcher came back into the room, and switched on a light. A
+quick glance about showed that neither his baggage, nor Rad's, had been
+taken.
+
+"It must have been his own grip he had," said Joe.
+
+"His? Who do you mean--what's up?" demanded Rad.
+
+"It was Wessel. He's sneaking out," remarked Joe in a low voice. "Shall
+we give the alarm?"
+
+"No, I guess not. We don't want to be mixed up in a row. And maybe he's
+going to take a midnight train. You can't tell."
+
+"I think he was in this room," went on Joe.
+
+"He was? Anything missing?"
+
+"Doesn't seem to be."
+
+"Well, then, don't make a row. Maybe he made a mistake."
+
+"He'd hardly unlock our door by mistake," declared Joe.
+
+"No, that's so. Did you see him in here?"
+
+"No, but I heard someone."
+
+"Well, it wouldn't be safe to make any cracks. Better not make a row, as
+long as nothing is gone."
+
+Joe decided to accept this advice, and went back to bed, after taking
+the precaution to put a chair-back under the knob, as well as locking
+it. It was some time before he got to sleep, however. But Rad was
+evidently not worried, for he was soon in peaceful slumber.
+
+Rad's theory that Wessel had gone out in the middle of the night to get
+a train was not borne out by the facts, for it became known in the
+morning that he had, as Joe suspected, "jumped" his board bill.
+
+"And he called himself a ball player!" exclaimed Mr. Watson in disgust.
+"I'd like to meet with him again!"
+
+"Maybe you will," ventured Joe, but he did not know how soon his
+prediction was to come to pass.
+
+"Well, boys, we'll see how we shape up," said the manager, a little
+later that morning when the members of the team, with their uniforms on,
+had assembled at the ball park. "Get out there and warm up. Riordan, bat
+some fungoes for the boys. McCann, knock the grounders. Boswell, you
+catch for--let's see--I guess I'll wish you on to Matson. We'll see what
+sort of an arm he's got."
+
+Joe smiled, and his heart beat a trifle faster. It was his first trial
+with the big league, an unofficial and not very important trial, to be
+sure, but none the less momentous to him.
+
+Soon was heard the crack of balls as they bounded off the bats, to be
+followed by the thuds as they landed in the gloves of the players. The
+training work was under way.
+
+"What sort of ball do you pitch?" asked the old player pleasantly of
+Joe, as they moved off to a space by themselves for practice.
+
+"Well, I've got an in, an out, a fadeaway and a spitter."
+
+"Quite a collection. How about a cross-fire?"
+
+"I can work it a little."
+
+"That's good. Now let's see what you can do. But take it easy at first.
+You don't want to throw out any of your elbow tendons so early in the
+season."
+
+"I guess not," laughed Joe.
+
+Then he began to throw, bearing in mind the advice of the veteran
+assistant manager. The work was slow at first, and Joe found himself
+much stiffer than he expected. But the warm air, and the swinging of his
+arm, limbered him up a bit, and soon he was sending in some swift ones.
+
+"Go slow, son," warned Boswell. "You're not trying to win a game, you
+know. You're getting a little wild."
+
+Joe felt a bit chagrined, but he knew it was for his own good that the
+advice was given.
+
+Besides the pitching and batting practice, there was some running around
+the bases. But Manager Watson knew better than to keep the boys at it
+too long, and soon called the work off for the day.
+
+"We'll give it a little harder whack to-morrow," he said. And then Joe,
+as he went to the dressing rooms, overheard the manager ask Boswell:
+
+"What do you think of Matson?"
+
+"Oh, he's not such a wonder," was the not very encouraging reply. "But
+I've seen lots worse. He'll do to keep on your string, but he's got a
+lot to learn. It's a question of what he'll do when he faces the big
+teams, and hears the crowd yelling: 'He's rotten! Take him out!' That's
+what's going to tell."
+
+"Yes, I suppose so. But I heard good reports of him--that gameness was
+one of his qualities."
+
+"Well, he'll need it all right," declared the veteran player.
+
+Then Joe passed on, not wanting to listen to any more. Truth to tell, he
+rather wished he had not heard that much. His pride was a little hurt.
+To give him credit, Joe had nothing like a "swelled head." He knew he
+had done good work in the Central League, and there, perhaps, he had
+been made more of than was actually good for him. Here he was to find
+that, relatively, he counted for little.
+
+A big team must have a number of pitchers, and not all of them can be
+"first string" men. Some must be kept to work against weak teams, to
+spare the stars for tight places. Joe realized this.
+
+"But if hard work will get me anywhere I'm going to arrive!" he said to
+himself, grimly, as the crowd of players went back to the hotel.
+
+The days that followed were given up to hard and constant practice. Each
+day brought a little more hard work, for the time was approaching when
+practice games must be played with the local teams, and it was necessary
+that the Cardinals make a good showing.
+
+Life in the training camp of a major league team was different than Joe
+had found it with the Pittstons. There was a more business-like tone to
+it, and more snap.
+
+The newspaper men found plenty of copy at first, in chronicling the
+doings of the big fellows, telling how this one was working up his
+pitching speed, or how that one was improving his batting. Then, too,
+the funny little incidents and happenings about the diamond and hotel
+were made as much of as possible.
+
+The various reporters had their own papers sent on to them, and soon, in
+some of these, notably the St. Louis publications, Joe began to find
+himself mentioned occasionally. These clippings he sent home to the
+folks. He wanted to send some to Mabel, but he was afraid she might
+think he was attaching too much importance to himself, so he refrained.
+
+Some of the reporters did not speak very highly of Joe's abilities, and
+others complimented him slightly. All of them intimated that some day he
+might amount to something, and then, again, he might not. Occasionally
+he was spoken of as a "promising youngster."
+
+It was rather faint praise, but it was better than none. And Joe
+steeled himself to go on in his own way, taking the well-intentioned
+advice of the other baseball players, Boswell in particular.
+
+Joe had other things besides hard work to contend against. This was the
+petty jealousy that always crops up in a high-tensioned ball team. There
+were three other chief pitchers on the nine, Toe Barter, Sam Willard and
+Slim Cooney. Slim and Toe were veterans, and the mainstays of the team,
+and Sam Willard was one of those chaps so often seen in baseball, a
+brilliant but erratic performer.
+
+Sometimes he would do excellently, and again he would "fall down"
+lamentably. And, for some reason, Sam became jealous of Joe. Perhaps he
+would have been jealous of any young pitcher who he thought might, in
+time, displace him. But he seemed to be particularly vindictive against
+Joe. It started one day in a little practice game, when Sam, after some
+particularly wild work, was replaced by our hero.
+
+"Huh! Now we'll see some real pitching," Sam sneered as he sulked away
+to the bench.
+
+Joe turned red, and was nervous as he took his place.
+
+Perhaps if Joe had made a fizzle of it Willard might have forgiven him,
+but Joe, after a few rather poor balls, tightened up and struck out
+several men neatly, though they were not star batters.
+
+"The Boy Wonder!" sneered Willard after the game. "Better order a cap a
+couple of sizes larger for him after this, Roger," he went on to the
+coach.
+
+"Oh, dry up!" retorted Boswell, who had little liking for Willard.
+
+And so the hard work went on. The men, whitened by the indoor life of
+the winter, were beginning to take on a bronze tan. Muscles hardened and
+become more springy. Running legs improved. The pitchers were sending in
+swifter balls, Joe included. The fungo batters were sending up better
+flies. The training work was telling.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+ANOTHER THREAT
+
+
+"Play ball!"
+
+"Batter up!"
+
+"Clang! Clang!"
+
+The old familiar cries, and the resonant sound of the starting gong,
+were heard at the Reedville diamond. It was the first real game of the
+season, and it was awaited anxiously, not only by the players, but by
+Manager Watson, the coach, and by the owners back home. For it would
+give a "line" on what St. Louis could do.
+
+Of course it was not a league contest, and the work, good, bad or
+indifferent, would not count in the averages. Joe hoped he would get a
+chance to pitch, at least part of the game, but he was not likely to,
+Boswell frankly told him, as it was desired to let Barter and Cooney
+have a fairly hard work-out on this occasion.
+
+"But your turn will come, son," said the coach, kindly. "Don't you fret.
+I think you're improving, and, to be frank with you, there's lots of
+room for it. But you've got grit, and that's what I like to see."
+
+Reedville was a good baseball town, which was one of the reasons why
+Manager Watson had selected it as his training camp. The townspeople
+were ardent supporters of the home team, and they welcomed the advent of
+the big leaguers. In the vicinity were also other teams that played good
+ball.
+
+The bleachers and grandstand were well filled when the umpire gave his
+echoing cry of:
+
+"Play ball!"
+
+The ball-tossers had been warming up, both the Cardinals and the home
+team, which proved to be a husky aggregation of lads, with tremendous
+hitting abilities, provided they could connect with the ball. And that
+was just what the St. Louis pitchers hoped to prevent.
+
+"Willard, you can lead off," was the unexpected announcement of Mr.
+Watson, as he scanned his batting order. "McCann will catch for you. Now
+let's see what you can do."
+
+"I'll show 'em!" exclaimed the "grouchy" pitcher as he unbuttoned his
+glove from his belt. He had been warming up, and had come to the bench,
+donning a sweater, with no hope of being put in the game at the start
+off. But, unexpectedly, he had been called on.
+
+"Play ball!" cried the umpire again.
+
+Joe wished, with all his heart, that he was going in, but it was not to
+be.
+
+In order to give the home team every possible advantage, they were to go
+to bat last. And there was some little wonder when the first St. Louis
+player faced the local pitcher. There were cries of encouragement from
+the crowd, for Robert Lee Randolph--the pitcher in question--had
+aspirations to the big league. He was a tall, lanky youth, and, as the
+Cardinal players soon discovered, had not much except speed in his box.
+But he certainly had speed, and that, with his ability, or inability, to
+throw wildly, made him a player to be feared as much as he was admired.
+
+He hit three players during the course of the game, and hit them hard.
+
+"If they can't beat us any other way they're going to cripple us," said
+Rad grimly to Joe, as they sat on the bench.
+
+"It does look that way; doesn't it?" agreed our hero.
+
+The game went on, and, as might have been expected, the St. Louis team
+did about as they pleased. No, that is hardly correct. Even a country
+aggregation of players can sometimes make the finest nine of
+professionals stand on its mettle. And, in this case, for a time, the
+contest was comparatively close.
+
+For Mr. Watson did not send in all his best players, and, from the fact
+that his men had not been in a game since the former season closed,
+whereas the Reedville team had been at the game for two months or more,
+the disadvantage was not as great as it might have seemed.
+
+But there was one surprise. When Willard first went in he pitched
+brilliantly, and struck out the local players in good order, allowing
+only a few scattering hits.
+
+Then he suddenly went to pieces, and was severely pounded. Only
+excellent fielding saved him, for he was well backed-up by his fellow
+players.
+
+"Rexter will bat for you, Willard," said Manager Watson, when the inning
+was over. "Cooney, you go out and warm up."
+
+"What's the matter. Ain't I pitching all right?" angrily demanded the
+deposed one.
+
+"I'm sorry to say you're not. I'm not afraid of losing the game, but I
+don't want any more of this sort of stuff going back home," replied the
+manager, as he nodded over to where the newspaper reporters were
+chuckling among themselves over the comparatively poor exhibition the
+St. Louis Cardinals had so far put up.
+
+So Willard went to the bench, while crafty Cooney, with his left-hand
+delivery, went to warm up. And how Joe did wish _he_ would get a chance!
+
+But he did not, and the game ended, as might have been expected, with
+the Cardinals snowing under their country opponents.
+
+Hard practice followed that first exhibition game, and there were some
+shifts among the players, for unexpected weakness, as well as strength
+had by this time developed in certain quarters.
+
+"I wonder when I'll get a chance to show what I can do?" spoke Joe to
+Rad, as they were on their way back to the hotel, after a second contest
+with Reedville, in which our hero had still stuck to the bench.
+
+"Oh, it's bound to come," his chum told him. Personally, he was joyful,
+for he had been given a try-out, and had won the applause of the crowd
+by making a difficult play.
+
+"Well, it seems a long time," grumbled Joe, with a sigh.
+
+The practice became harder, as the opening of the season drew nearer.
+Some recruits joined the Cardinals at their training camp, and further
+shifts were made.
+
+Joe was finally given a chance to pitch against a team from Bottom
+Flats--a team, by the way, not as strong as the Reedville nine. And that
+Joe made good was little to his credit, as he himself knew.
+
+"I could have fanned them without any curves," he told Rad afterward.
+
+"Well, it's good you didn't take any chances," his chum said. "You never
+can tell."
+
+Again came a contest with Reedville, but Joe was not called on. Toe
+Barter, who had gained his nickname from the queer habit he had of
+digging a hole for his left foot, before delivering the ball, opened the
+contest, and did so well that he was kept in until the game was "in the
+refrigerator." Then Joe was given his chance, but there was little
+incentive to try, with the Cardinals so far ahead.
+
+Nevertheless, our hero did his best, and to his delight, he knocked a
+two-bagger, sliding to second amid a cloud of dust, to be decided safe
+by the umpire, though there was a howl of protest from the "fans."
+
+The Cardinals won handily, and as Joe was walking to the club house with
+Rad, eagerly talking about the game, he saw, just ahead of him in the
+crowd of spectators a figure, at the sight of which he started.
+
+"That looks like Shalleg," he said, half aloud.
+
+"What's that?" asked Rad.
+
+"Oh, nothing. I just thought I saw someone I knew. That is, I don't
+exactly know him, but----"
+
+At that moment the man at whose back Joe had been looking turned
+suddenly, and, to our hero's surprise, it was Shalleg. The man, with an
+impudent grin on his face, spoke to a companion loudly enough for Joe to
+hear.
+
+"There's the fellow who wouldn't help me out!" Shalleg exclaimed. "He
+turned me down cold. Look at him."
+
+The other turned, and Joe's surprise was heightened when he saw Wessel,
+the man who had tried to quarrel with him, and who had "jumped" his bill
+at the hotel.
+
+"Oh, I know him all right," Wessel responded to Shalleg. "I've seen him
+before."
+
+Joe and Rad, with the two men, were comparatively alone now. The
+attitude and words of the fellows were so insulting that Joe almost made
+up his mind to defy them. But before he had a chance to do so Shalleg
+snapped out:
+
+"You want to look out for yourself, young man. I'll get you yet, and
+I'll get even with you for having me turned down. You want to look out.
+Bill Shalleg is a bad man to have for an enemy. Come on, Ike," and with
+that they turned away and were soon lost in the throng.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+JOE'S TRIUMPH
+
+
+"Well, what do you know about that?" cried Rad, with a queer look at
+Joe.
+
+"I don't know what to think about it, and that's the truth," was the
+simple but puzzled answer.
+
+"But who are they--what do they mean? The idea of them threatening you
+that way! Why, that's against the law!"
+
+"Maybe it is," agreed Joe. "As for who those men are, you know Wessel,
+of course."
+
+"Yes. The fellow who jumped his board bill at the hotel. Say, I guess
+the proprietor would like to see him. He has nerve coming back to this
+town. I've a good notion to tell the hotel clerk he's here. Mr. Watson
+would be glad to know it, too, for he takes it as a reflection on the
+team that Wessel should claim to be one of us, and then cheat the way he
+did."
+
+"Maybe it would be a good plan to tell on him," agreed Joe.
+
+"And who's the other chap, and why did he threaten you?" his chum asked.
+
+"That's another queer thing," the young pitcher went on. "He's angry at
+me, as near as I can tell, because I had to refuse him a loan," and he
+detailed the circumstances of his meeting with Shalleg.
+
+"But it's odd that he and Wessel should be chumming together. I've said
+little about it, but I've been wondering for a long time why Wessel
+quarreled with me. I begin to see a light now. It must have been that
+Shalleg put him up to it."
+
+"A queer game," admitted Rad. "Well, I think I'll put the hotel
+proprietor wise to the fact that he can collect that board bill from Ike
+Wessel."
+
+But Joe and Rad found their plans unexpectedly changed when they went to
+put them into effect. They were a little late getting back to the hotel
+from the grounds, as Joe had some purchases to make. And, as the two
+chums entered the lobby, they saw standing by the desk the two men in
+question. Mr. Watson was addressing Shalleg in no uncertain tones.
+
+"No, I tell you!" he exclaimed. "I won't have you on the team, and this
+is the last time I'll tell you. And I don't want you hanging around,
+either. You don't do us any good."
+
+"Is that your last word?" asked Shalleg, angrily.
+
+"Yes, my last word. I want you to clear out and leave us alone."
+
+"Huh! I guess you can't keep me away from games!" sneered Shalleg. "This
+is a free country."
+
+"Well, you keep away from my club," warned Mr. Watson, with great
+firmness. "I wouldn't have you as a bat-tender."
+
+The flushed and ill-favored face of Shalleg grew more red, if that were
+possible, and he growled:
+
+"Oh, don't let that worry you. Some day you may be glad to send for me
+to help pull your old club out of the cellar. Someone has been talking
+about me, that's the trouble; and if I find out who it is I'll make 'em
+sweat for it!" and he glared at Joe, who was too amazed at the strange
+turn of affairs to speak.
+
+Then the two cronies turned and started out of the hotel lobby. But Rad
+was not going to be foiled so easily. He slipped over to the clerk and
+whispered:
+
+"Say, that's the fellow who jumped his board bill, you know," and he
+nodded at Wessel.
+
+"Yes, I know," the clerk replied. "He just came in to settle. He
+apologized, and said he had to leave in a hurry," and the clerk winked
+his eye to show how much belief he placed in the story.
+
+"Hum!" mused Rad. "That's rather queer. He must have wanted to square
+matters up so he could come back to town safely."
+
+"Looks so," returned the clerk.
+
+Joe talked the matter over with his roommate, as to whether or not it
+would be advisable to tell Mr. Watson how Shalleg had threatened the
+young pitcher, and also whether to speak about the queer actions of
+Wessel.
+
+"But I think, on the whole," concluded Joe, "that I won't say anything;
+at least not yet a while. The boss has troubles enough as it is."
+
+"I guess you're right," agreed Rad.
+
+"But what about him being in our room that night?" asked Joe. "I wonder
+if I hadn't better speak of that?"
+
+"Oh, I don't know as I would," replied his chum. "In the first place, we
+can't be absolutely sure that it was he, though I guess you're pretty
+certain. Then, again, we didn't miss anything, and he could easily claim
+it was all a mistake--that he went in by accident--and we'd be laughed
+at for making such a charge."
+
+"Probably," agreed Joe. "As you say, I can't be dead sure, though I'm
+morally certain."
+
+"One of the porters might have opened our door by mistake," went on Rad.
+"You know the hotel workers have pass-keys. Better let it drop." And
+they did. Joe, however, often wondered, in case Wessel had entered his
+room, what his object could have been. But it was not until some time
+later that he learned.
+
+Shalleg and his crony were not seen around the hotel again, nor, for
+that matter, at the ball grounds, either--at least during the next week.
+
+Practice went on as usual, only it grew harder and more exacting. Joe
+was made to pitch longer and longer each day, and, though he did not get
+a chance to play in many games, and then only unimportant ones, still he
+was not discouraged.
+
+There were many shifts among the out and infield staff, the manager
+trying different players in order to get the best results. The pitching
+staff remained unchanged, however. Some more recruits were received,
+some of them remaining after a gruelling try-out, and others "falling by
+the wayside."
+
+In addition to pitching balls for Boswell to catch, and doing some stick
+work, Joe was required to practice with the other catchers of the team.
+
+"I want you to get used to all of them, Matson," said the manager.
+"There's no telling, in this business, when I may have to call on my
+youngsters. I want you to be always ready."
+
+"I'll try," promised Joe, with a smile.
+
+"You're coming on," observed Boswell, after a day of hard pitching,
+which had made Joe's arm ache. "You're coming on, youngster. I guess
+you're beginning to feel that working in a big league is different than
+in a minor; eh?"
+
+"It sure is!" admitted Joe, rubbing his aching muscles.
+
+"Well, you're getting more speed and better control," went on the
+veteran. "And you don't mind taking advice; that's what I like about
+you."
+
+"Indeed I'd be glad of any tips you could give me," responded Joe,
+earnestly.
+
+He did indeed realize that there was a hard road ahead of him, and he
+was a little apprehensive of the time when he might be called on to
+pitch against such a redoubtable team as the Giants.
+
+"Most folks think," went on Boswell, "that the chief advantage a pitcher
+has over a batter is his speed or his curves. Well, that isn't exactly
+so. The thing of it is that the batter has to guess whether the ball
+that's coming toward him is a swift straight one, or a comparatively
+slow curve. You see, he's got to make up his mind mighty quickly as to
+the speed of the horsehide, and he can't always do it.
+
+"Now, if a batter knew in advance just what the pitcher was going to
+deliver--whether a curve or a straight one, why that batter would have
+a cinch, so to speak. You may be the best twirler in the league, but you
+couldn't win your games if the batters knew what you were going to hand
+them--that is, knew in advance, I mean."
+
+"But that's what signals are for," exclaimed Joe. "I watch the catcher's
+signals, and if I think he's got the right idea I sign that I'll heave
+in what he's signalled for. If not, I'll make a switch."
+
+"Exactly," said the old player, "and that's what I'm coming to. If your
+signals are found out, where are you? Up in the air, so to speak. So you
+want to have several sets of signals, in order to change them in the
+middle of an inning if you find you're being double-crossed. There's
+lots of coaches who are fiends at getting next to the battery signs, and
+tipping them off to their batters. Then the batters know whether to step
+out to get a curve, or lay back to wallop a straight one. The signal
+business is more important than most players think."
+
+Joe believed this, and, at his suggestion, and on the advice of Boswell,
+a little later, a new signal system was devised between the pitchers and
+catchers. Joe worked hard to master it, for it was rather complicated.
+He wrote the system out, and studied it in his room nights.
+
+"Well, boys, a few weeks more and we'll be going home for the opening
+of the season," said Mr. Watson in the hotel lobby one day. "I see the
+Boston Braves are about through training, the Phillies are said to be
+all primed, and the Giants are ready to eat up all the rest of us."
+
+"Whom do we open with?" asked Joe.
+
+"The Cincinnati Reds," answered the manager. "The exact date isn't set
+yet, but it will be around the last of April. We've got some hard games
+here yet. I'm going to play some exhibitions on the way up North, to
+break you in gradually."
+
+More hard work and practice, and the playing of several games with the
+Reedville and other local nines soon brought the time of departure
+nearer.
+
+"This is our last week," Mr. Watson finally announced. "And I'm going to
+put you boys up against a good stiff proposition. We'll play the Nipper
+team Saturday, and I want to warn you that there are some former big
+leaguers on it, who can still hit and run and pitch, though they're not
+qualified for the big circuit. So don't go to the grounds with the idea
+that it'll be a cinch. Play your best. Of course I know you will, and
+win; but don't fall down!"
+
+Joe hoped he would be called on to pitch, but when the game started,
+before the biggest crowd that had yet assembled at the Reedville
+grounds, the umpire announced the Cardinal battery as Slim Cooney and
+Rob Russell.
+
+"Play ball!" came the signal, and the game was under way.
+
+To make the contest a little more even the St. Louis team were to bat
+first, giving the visitors the advantage of coming up last in the ninth
+inning.
+
+"Doolin up!" called the score keeper, and the lanky left-handed hitter
+strolled up to the plate, while Riordan, who was on deck, took up a
+couple of bats, swinging them about nervously to limber his arms.
+
+"Strike one!" bawled the umpire, at the first delivery of the visiting
+pitcher.
+
+Doolin turned with a look of disgust and stared at the arbiter, but said
+nothing. There was an exchange of signals between catcher and pitcher,
+and Joe watched to see if he could read them. But he could not.
+
+"Ball," was the next decision, and this time the pitcher looked pained.
+
+It got to be three and two, and the St. Louis team became rather
+interested.
+
+Doolin swung at the next with vicious force--and missed.
+
+"Strike three--batter's out!" announced the umpire, as the ball landed
+with a thud in the deep pit of the catcher's mitt.
+
+Doolin threw down his bat hard.
+
+"What's he got?" whispered Riordan, as he went forward.
+
+"Aw, nothing so much! This light bothers me, or I'd have hit for a
+three-sacker, believe me!"
+
+Riordan smiled, but he did little better. He hit, but the next man flied
+out. Rad was up next and hit a twisting grounder that just managed to
+evade the shortstop, putting Rad on first and advancing Riordan.
+
+But that was the end. The next man was neatly struck out, and a
+goose-egg went up in St. Louis's frame.
+
+"Got to get 'em, boys," announced the manager grimly, as the team went
+to the field.
+
+Cooney did not allow a hit that inning, but he was pounded for two when
+he was on the mound again, St. Louis in the meanwhile managing to get a
+run, through an error.
+
+"Say, this is some little team," declared Boswell admiringly.
+
+"I told you they were," replied the manager. "I want to see our boys
+work."
+
+And work they had to.
+
+The best pitcher in the world has his off days, and the best pitcher in
+the world may occasionally be pounded, as Slim Cooney was hit that day.
+How it happened no one could say, but the Nippers began to slide ahead,
+chiefly through hard hitting and excellent pitching.
+
+"This won't do," said Manager Watson as the sixth inning saw the score
+tied. "Matson, go out and warm up. I'm going to see what you can do. I'm
+taking a chance, maybe; but I'll risk it."
+
+Joe's heart beat fast. Here was his chance. Willard, who sat near him on
+the bench, muttered angrily under his breath.
+
+"If I can only do something!" thought Joe, anxiously.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+"PLAY BALL!"
+
+
+"Come on, Joe, I'll catch for you," good-naturedly offered Doc Mullin,
+who had been "warming" the bench, Russell being behind the bat. "That'll
+give Rob a chance to rest, and he can take you on just before we go
+out."
+
+"Thanks," replied the young pitcher, and, flushing with pleasure, in
+this his triumph, though it was but a small one, he went out to the
+"bull-pen," to get some practice.
+
+"Huh! He'll make a fine show of us!" sneered Willard.
+
+"He can't make a much worse show than we've made of ourselves already,"
+put in Cooney quickly. "I sure am off my feed to-day. I don't know what
+makes it."
+
+"Trained a little too fine, I guess," spoke the manager. "We'll take it
+a bit easy after this."
+
+"Speed 'em in, Joe. Vary your delivery, and don't forget the signals,"
+advised Mullin, as the two were warming up. "And don't get nervous.
+You'll do all right."
+
+"I'm sure I hope so," responded Joe.
+
+He was getting more confidence in himself, but at that, when he stood on
+the mound, and had the ball in his hand he could not help a little
+twinge of "stage fright," or something akin to it.
+
+The batter stepped back, to allow the usual interchange of balls between
+pitcher and catcher, and then, when Joe nodded that he was ready, moved
+up to the plate, where he stood, swinging his bat, and waiting for the
+first one.
+
+The catcher, Russell, signalled for a swift, straight one, and, though
+Joe would rather have pitched his fadeaway, he nodded his head to show
+that he accepted.
+
+The ball whizzed from Joe's hand, and he felt a wave of apprehension, a
+second later, that it was going to be slammed somewhere out over the
+centre field fence. But, to his chagrin, he heard the umpire call:
+
+"Ball one!"
+
+The batter grinned cheerfully at Joe.
+
+"That won't happen again!" thought our hero fiercely.
+
+This time the catcher signalled for a teasing curve, and again Joe
+signified that he would deliver it. He did, and successfully, too. The
+batter made a half motion, as though he were going to strike at it, and
+then refrained, but the umpire called, in tones that were musical to
+Joe's ear:
+
+"Strike--one!"
+
+"He's feedin' 'em to 'em!" joyfully exclaimed Boswell to the manager.
+"Joe's feedin' 'em in, all right."
+
+"Too early to judge," replied the cautious manager. "Wait a bit."
+
+But Joe struck out his man, and a little applause came from his fellow
+players on the bench.
+
+"That's the way to do it, boy!"
+
+"Tease 'em along!"
+
+"We only need two more!"
+
+Thus they called encouragingly to him.
+
+Joe was hit once that half of the inning, and no runs came in. The score
+was still tie.
+
+"Now, boys, we've got to bat!" said the manager when his team came in.
+"We need three or four runs, or this game will make us ashamed to go
+back to St. Louis."
+
+There was a noticeable improvement as the Cardinals went to bat. Tom
+Dugan slammed out one that was good for three bases, and Dots McCann, by
+a double, brought in the needed run. The St. Louis boys were themselves
+again. The fact that the visiting pitcher was "going to pieces" rather
+helped, too.
+
+The Cardinals were two runs to the good when the inning ended.
+
+"Now we want to hold them there. It's up to you, Joe, and the rest of
+you boys!" exclaimed Mr. Watson as the leaguers again took the field.
+
+Joe had more confidence in himself now, though it oozed away somewhat
+when the first man up struck the ball savagely. But it was only a foul,
+and, though Russell tried desperately to get it, he could not.
+
+It was a case of three and two again, and Joe's nerves were tingling.
+
+"Hit it now, Red!" the friends of the visiting player besought him.
+"Bang it right on the nose!"
+
+"He hasn't anything on you!"
+
+"Nothing but a slow out!"
+
+"Slam out a home run!"
+
+There was a riot of cries.
+
+Joe calmed himself by an effort, and then sent in his fadeaway. It
+completely fooled the batter, who struck at it so hard that he swung
+around in a circle.
+
+"You're out!" called the umpire. Joe's heart beat with pride.
+
+But I must not dwell too long on that comparatively unimportant game, as
+I have other, and bigger ones, of which to write. Sufficient to say
+that, though there were a few scattering hits made off Joe, the visitors
+did not get another run, though they tried desperately in the last half
+of the ninth.
+
+But it was not to be, and St. Louis had the game by a good margin.
+
+"That's fine work, boys!" the manager greeted them. "Matson, you're
+coming on. I won't promise to pitch you against the Giants this season,
+unless all my other pitchers get 'Charlie-horse,'" he went on, "but I'll
+say I like your work."
+
+"Thanks!" murmured Joe, his heart warming to the praise.
+
+"Congratulations, old man!" cried Rad, as they went to the dressing
+rooms together. "You did yourself proud!"
+
+"I'm glad you think so. I wonder what sort of a story it will be when I
+go up against a big league team?"
+
+"Oh, you'll go up against 'em all right!" predicted his chum, "and
+you'll win, too!"
+
+Preparations for leaving Reedville were made. The training was over;
+hard work was now ahead for all. Nothing more was seen of Shalleg and
+Wessel, though they might have been at that last game, for all Joe knew.
+
+In order not to tire his players by a long jump home, especially as they
+were not to open at once on Robison Field, Manager Watson planned
+several exhibition games to be played in various cities and towns on the
+way.
+
+Thus the journey would occupy a couple of weeks.
+
+The players were on edge now, a little rest from the Nipper game having
+put them in fine trim.
+
+"They're ready for Giants!" energetically declared Boswell, who took
+great pride in his training work.
+
+"Hardly that," replied the manager, "but I think we can take care of the
+Cincinnati Reds when we stack up against them on opening day."
+
+The journey North was enjoyed by all, and some good games took place.
+One or two were a little close for comfort, but the Cardinals managed to
+pull out in time. Joe did some pitching, though he was not worked as
+often as he would have liked. But he realized that he was a raw recruit,
+in the company of many veterans, and he was willing to bide his time.
+
+Joe had learned more about baseball since getting into the big league
+than he ever imagined possible. He realized, as never before, what a
+really big business it was, involving, as it did, millions of dollars,
+and furnishing employment to thousands of players, besides giving
+enjoyment to millions of spectators.
+
+The home-coming of the Cardinals, from their trip up from the South, was
+an event of interest.
+
+St. Louis always did make much of her ball teams, and though the
+American Brown nine had arrived a day or so before our friends, and had
+been noisily welcomed, there was a no less enthusiastic reception for
+the Cardinals. There was a band, a cheering throng at the station, and
+any number of reporters, moving picture men and newspaper photographers.
+
+"Say, it's great; isn't it?" cried Joe to Rad.
+
+"It sure is, old man!"
+
+Joe wrote home an enthusiastic account of it all, and also penned a note
+to Mabel, expressing the hope that she and her brother would get to St.
+Louis on the occasion of some big game.
+
+"And I hope I pitch in it," Joe penned.
+
+A day of rest, then a week of practice on their own grounds, brought the
+opening date nearer for St. Louis. Joe and the other players went out to
+the park the morning of the opening day of the season. The grounds were
+in perfect shape, and the weather man was on his good behavior.
+
+"What kind of ball have the Reds been playing?" asked Joe of Rad, who
+was a "fiend" on baseball statistics.
+
+"Snappy," was the answer. "We'll have our work cut out for us!"
+
+"Think we can do 'em?"
+
+"Nobody can tell. I know we're going to try hard."
+
+"If I could only pitch!" murmured Joe.
+
+The grandstand was rapidly filling. The bleachers were already
+overflowing. The teams had marched out on the field, preceded by a
+blaring band. There had been a presentation of a floral horseshoe to
+Manager Watson.
+
+Then came some fast, snappy practice on both sides. Joe, who had only a
+faint hope of being called on, warmed up well. He took his turn at
+batting and catching, too.
+
+"They look to be a fast lot," observed Joe to Rad, as they watched the
+Reds at work.
+
+"Oh, yes, they're there with the goods."
+
+The game was called, and, as is often done, a city official pitched the
+first ball. This time it was the mayor, who made a wild throw. There was
+laughter, and cheers, the band blared out, and then the umpire called:
+
+"Play ball!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+HOT WORDS
+
+
+That opening game, between the St. Louis Cardinals and the Cincinnati
+Reds, was not remarkable for good playing. Few opening games are, for
+the teams have not that fierce rivalry that develops later in the
+pennant season, and, though both try hard to win, they are not keyed up
+to the pitch that makes for a brilliant exhibition.
+
+So that opening game was neither better nor worse than hundreds of
+others. But, as we have to deal mostly with Baseball Joe in this book, I
+will centre my attention on him.
+
+His feelings, as he watched his fellow players in the field, the pitcher
+on the mound, and the catcher, girded like some ancient knight, may well
+be imagined. I fancy my readers, even if they are not baseball players,
+have been in much the same situation.
+
+Joe sat on the bench, "eating his heart out," and longing for the chance
+that he had small hopes would come to him. How he wished to get up
+there, and show what he could do, only he realized.
+
+But it was not to be.
+
+Manager Watson's Cardinals went into the game with a rush, and had three
+runs safely stowed away in the ice box the first inning, after having
+gracefully allowed the Reds to score a goose egg.
+
+Then came an uninteresting period, with both pitchers working their
+heads off, and nothing but ciphers going up on the score board.
+
+"By Jove, old man, do you think we'll win?" asked Cosey Campbell, as he
+came to the bench after ingloriously striking out, and looked at Joe.
+
+"I don't see why we shouldn't," responded Joe. "We've got 'em going."
+
+"Yes, I know, but you never can tell when we may strike a slump."
+
+"You seem terribly worried," laughed Joe. "Have you wagered a new
+necktie on the result?"
+
+"No," he answered, "but I am anxious. You see, Matson, there's a girl--I
+could point her out to you in one of the boxes; but maybe she wouldn't
+like it," he said, craning his neck and going out from under the shelter
+of the players' bench and looking at the crowd in the grandstand.
+
+"Oh, that's all right, I'll take your word for it," said Joe, for he
+appreciated the other's feelings.
+
+"A girl, you understand, Matson. She's here to see the game," went on
+Campbell. "I sent her tickets, and I told her we were sure to win. She's
+here, and I'm going to take her out to supper to-night. I've got the
+stunningest tie----"
+
+He fumbled in his pocket.
+
+"Thought I had a sample of it here with me," he said. "But I haven't.
+It's sort of purple--plum color--with a shooting of gold, and it
+shimmers down into a tango shade. It's a peach! I was going to wear it
+to-night, but, if we don't win----"
+
+His face showed his misery.
+
+"Oh, cut it out!" advised Rad, coming up behind him. "We can't lose.
+Don't get mushy over an old tie."
+
+"It isn't an old tie!" stormed Campbell. "It's a new one I had made to
+order. Cost me five bones, too. It's a peach!"
+
+"Well, you'll wear it, all right," said Joe with a laugh. "I don't see
+how we can lose."
+
+The Cardinals were near it, though, in the seventh inning, when, with
+only one out, and three on bases, Slim Cooney was called on to face one
+of the hardest propositions in baseball.
+
+But he made good, and not a man crossed home plate.
+
+And so the game went on, now and then a bit of sensational fielding, or
+a pitcher tightening up in a critical place, setting the crowd to
+howling.
+
+It was nearing the close of the contest. It looked like the Cardinals,
+for they were three runs to the good, and it was the ending of the
+eighth inning. Only phenomenal playing, at this stage, could bring the
+Reds in a winner.
+
+Some of the crowd, anticipating the event, were already leaving,
+probably to catch trains, or to motor to some resort.
+
+"Well, it's a good start-off," said Rad to Joe, as he started out to the
+field, for the beginning of the ninth.
+
+"Yes, but it isn't cinched yet."
+
+"It will be soon."
+
+The Reds were at bat, and Joe, vainly wishing that he had had a chance
+to show what he could do, pulled his sweater more closely about him, for
+the day was growing cool.
+
+Then Batonby, one of the reserve players, strolled up to him.
+
+"You didn't get in, either," he observed, sitting down.
+
+"No. Nor you."
+
+"But I've been half-promised a chance in the next game. Say, it's fierce
+to sit it out; isn't it?"
+
+"It sure is."
+
+"Hear of any new players coming to us?" Batonby wanted to know.
+
+"Haven't heard," said Joe.
+
+The game was over. The Cardinals did not go to bat to end the last
+inning, having the game by a margin of three runs.
+
+The players walked across the field to the clubhouse, the spectators
+mingling with them.
+
+"Did you hear anything about a fellow named Shalleg, who used to play in
+the Central League, coming to us?" asked Batonby, as he caught up to Joe
+and Rad, who had walked on ahead.
+
+"No," answered Joe quickly. "That is, I have heard of him, but I'm
+pretty sure he isn't coming with us."
+
+"What makes you think so?"
+
+"Why, I heard Mr. Watson tell him----"
+
+"Say, if I hear you retailing any more stuff about me I'll take means to
+make you stop!" cried an angry voice behind Joe, and, wheeling around,
+he beheld the inflamed face of Shalleg, the man in question.
+
+"I've heard enough of your talk about me!" the released player went on.
+"Now it's got to quit. I won't have it! Cut it out! I'll settle with
+you, Matson, if I hear any more out of you," and he shook his fist
+angrily at Joe.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+JOE GOES IN
+
+
+Batonby looked wonderingly, first at Joe, and then at Shalleg. The
+latter's crony did not seem to be with him.
+
+"What's the row, old top?" asked Batonby easily. "Who are you, anyhow,
+and what's riled you?"
+
+"Never you mind what's riled me! You'll find out soon enough," was the
+sharp answer. "I heard you two chaps talking about me, and I want it
+stopped!"
+
+"Guess you're a little off, sport. I wasn't talking about you, for I
+haven't the doubtful honor of your acquaintance."
+
+"None of your impudence!" burst out Shalleg. Joe had not yet spoken.
+
+"And I don't want any of yours," fired back Batonby, slapping his glove
+from one hand to the other. "I say I wasn't talking about you!"
+
+"I say you were. My name is Shalleg!"
+
+Batonby let out a whistle of surprise.
+
+"Is that the one?" he asked of Joe.
+
+The latter nodded.
+
+"Well, all I've got to say," went on Batonby, "is that I hope you don't
+get on our team. And, for your information," he went on, as he saw that
+Shalleg was fairly bursting with passion, "I'll add that all I said
+about you was that I heard you were trying to get on the Cardinals. As
+for Matson, he said even less about you."
+
+"That's all right, but you fellows want to look out," mumbled Shalleg,
+who seemed nonplused on finding that he had no good grounds for a
+quarrel.
+
+"And I want to add," broke in Joe, who felt that he had a right to say
+something in his own behalf, "I want to add that I'm about through with
+hearing threats from you, Mr. Shalleg," and he accented the prefix. "I
+haven't said anything against you, and I don't expect to, unless you
+give me cause. You've been following me about, making unjustified
+remarks, and it's got to stop!"
+
+"Hurray!" cried Batonby. "That's the kind of mustard to give him. Heave
+at it again, Joe!"
+
+The young pitcher stood facing his enemy fearlessly, but he had said
+enough. Shalleg growled out:
+
+"Well, somebody's been talking about me to the manager, giving me a bad
+name, and it's got to stop. If I find out who did it, he'll wish he
+hadn't," and he glared vindictively at Joe.
+
+"I guess his own actions have given him the bad name," remarked Batonby,
+as the dismissed player turned aside and walked off to join the throng
+that had surged away from the little group.
+
+"That's about it," agreed Joe, as Rad came up and joined them. "Good
+work, old man!" said our hero, for Rad had done well.
+
+"I came mighty near making an error, though, toward the last," Rad
+responded. "Guess I'm not used to such strenuous life as playing nine
+innings in a big game. My heart was in my throat when I saw that fly
+ball coming toward me."
+
+"But you froze on to it," said Batonby.
+
+"Hello, what's up?" asked Rad quickly, for Joe's face still showed the
+emotion he felt at the encounter with Shalleg. "Had a row?" asked Rad.
+
+"Rather," admitted the young pitcher. "Shalleg was on deck again."
+
+"Say, that fellow, and his side partner, Wessel, ought to be put away
+during the ball season!" burst out Rad. "They're regular pests!"
+
+Joe heartily agreed with him, as he related the circumstances of the
+last affair. Then the friends passed on to the clubhouse, where the game
+was played over again, as usual, a "post-mortem" being held on it. Only,
+in this case the Cardinals, being winners, had no excuses to make for
+poor playing. They were jubilant over the auspicious manner in which the
+season had opened.
+
+"Boys. I'm proud of you!" exclaimed Manager Watson as he strolled
+through. "Do this often enough, and we'll have that pennant sure."
+
+"Yes, a fat chance we have!" muttered Willard, sulkily.
+
+"That's no way for a member of the team to talk!" snapped "Muggins."
+
+Willard did not reply. It was clear that he was disgruntled because he
+had not had a chance to pitch.
+
+Then the splashing of the shower baths drowned other talk, and presently
+the players, fresh and shining from their ablutions, strolled out of the
+clubhouse.
+
+"Got anything on to-night?" asked Rad of Joe, as they reached the hotel.
+
+"Nothing special--why?"
+
+"Let's go down to the Delaware Garden, and hear the Hungarian orchestra.
+There's good eating there, too."
+
+"I'm with you. Got to write a letter, though."
+
+"Tell her how the game went, I s'pose?" laughed Rad.
+
+"Something like that," agreed Joe, smiling.
+
+He bought an evening paper, which made a specialty of sporting news. It
+contained an account of the opening game, with a skeletonized outline
+of the plays, inning by inning. The Cardinals were properly
+congratulated for winning. Joe wished he could have read his name in the
+story, but he felt he could bide his time.
+
+Joe and Rad enjoyed their little excursion to the Delaware Garden that
+evening, returning to the hotel in good season to get plenty of sleep,
+for they were to play the Reds again the next day. There were four games
+scheduled, and then the Cardinals would go out on the circuit, remaining
+away about three weeks before coming back for a series on Robison Field.
+
+The tables were turned in the next game. The Cincinnati team, stinging
+from their previous defeat, played strong ball. They sent in a new
+pitcher, and with a lead of three runs early in the contest it began to
+look bad for the Cardinals.
+
+"I'll get no chance to-day," reasoned Joe, as he saw a puzzled frown on
+Mr. Watson's face. Joe knew that only a veteran would be relied on to do
+battle now, and he was right.
+
+Mr. Watson used all his ingenuity to save the game. He put in pinch
+hitters, and urged his three pitchers to do their best.
+
+Willard was allowed to open the game, but was taken out after the first
+inning, so fiercely was he pounded. Cooney and Barter had been warming
+up, and the latter went in next.
+
+"You go warm up, too, Matson," directed Boswell, "though it's doubtful
+if we'll have to use you."
+
+Joe hoped they would, but it was only a faint hope.
+
+Barter did a little better, but the Reds had a batting streak on that
+day, and found his most puzzling curves and drops. Then, too, working
+the "hit and run" feature to the limit and stealing bases, which in
+several cases was made possible by errors on the part of the Cardinals,
+soon gave the Reds a comfortable lead of five runs.
+
+"I'm afraid they've got us," grumbled the manager, as he substituted a
+batter to enable Cooney to go in the game. "You've got to pull us out,
+Slim," he added.
+
+Slim grinned easily, not a whit disconcerted, for he was a veteran. But
+though he stopped the winning streak of the Reds, he could not make
+runs, and runs are what win ball games.
+
+With his best nine in the field the manager tried hard to overcome the
+advantage of his opponents. It looked a little hopeful in the eighth
+inning, when there were two men on bases, second and third, and only one
+out, with "Slugger" Nottingham at the plate.
+
+"Now, then, a home run, old man!" pleaded the crowd.
+
+"Soak it on the nose!"
+
+"Over the fence!"
+
+"A home run means three tallies, old man. Do it now!"
+
+Nottingham stood easily at the plate, swinging his bat. There was an
+interchange of signals between catcher and pitcher--a slight difference
+of opinion, it seemed. Then the ball was thrown.
+
+There was a resounding crack, and the crowd started to yell.
+
+"Go it, old man, go it!"
+
+"That's the pie!"
+
+"Oh, that's a beaut!"
+
+But it was not. It was a nice little fly, to be sure, but the centre
+fielder, running in, had it safely before the batter reached first.
+Then, with Nottingham out, the ball was hurled home to nip the runner at
+the plate.
+
+Dugan, who had started in from third, ran desperately, and slid in a
+cloud of dust.
+
+"You're out!" howled the umpire, waving him to the bench.
+
+"He never touched me!" retorted Dugan. "I was safe by a mile!"
+
+"Robber!" shrieked the throng in the bleachers.
+
+"Get a pair of glasses!"
+
+"He was never out!"
+
+The umpire listened indifferently to the tirade. Dugan dusted off his
+uniform, and, losing his temper, shook his fist at the umpire, sneering:
+
+"You big fat----" and the rest of it does not matter.
+
+"That'll cost you just twenty-five dollars, and you can go to the
+clubhouse," said the umpire, coolly.
+
+Dugan's face fell, and Manager Watson flushed. He bit his lips to keep
+from making a retort. But, after all, the umpire was clearly within his
+rights.
+
+In silence Dugan left the field, and the Reds, who were jubilant over
+the double play, came in from the diamond.
+
+"The fat's in the fire now, for sure," sighed Rad, "with Dugan out of
+the game. Hang it all, anyhow!"
+
+"Oh, we can't win every time," and Joe tried to speak cheerfully.
+
+And so the Reds won the second of the first series of games. There was a
+rather stormy scene in the clubhouse after it was over, and Mr. Watson
+did some plain talking to Dugan. But, after all, it was too common an
+occurrence to merit much attention, and, really, nothing very serious
+had occurred.
+
+The contest between the Reds and Cardinals was an even break, each team
+taking two. Then came preparations for the Cardinals taking the road. A
+series of four games with the Chicago Cubs was next in order, and there,
+in the Windy City, St. Louis fared rather better, taking three.
+
+"I wonder if I'm ever going to get a chance," mused Joe, who had been
+sent to the "bull-pen" many times to warm up, but as yet he had not been
+called on.
+
+After games with the Pittsburg Pirates, in which an even break was
+registered, the Cardinals returned to St. Louis. As they had an open
+date, a game was arranged with one of the Central League teams, the
+Washburgs.
+
+"Say, I would like to pitch against them!" exclaimed Joe.
+
+And he had his chance. When the practice was over Manager Watson, with a
+smile at our hero, said, with a friendly nod:
+
+"Joe, you go in and see what you can do."
+
+Joe was to have his first big chance.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+STAGE FRIGHT
+
+
+Joe was a little nervous at first, but it was like being among old
+friends to work against the Washburg team.
+
+"How's your head, Joe?" asked some of the players whom he knew well,
+from having associated with them in the Central League.
+
+"Had to get larger sized caps?" asked another.
+
+"Don't you believe it!" exclaimed the Washburg catcher. "Joe Matson
+isn't that kind of a chap!" and Joe was grateful to him.
+
+The game was not so easy as some of the Cardinal players had professed
+to believe it would be. Not all of the first string men went in, but
+they were in reserve, to be used if needed. For baseball is often an
+uncertainty.
+
+Joe looked around at the grandstands and bleachers as he went out for
+warm-up practice.
+
+There was a fair-sized crowd in attendance, but nothing like the throng
+that would have been present at a league game.
+
+"But I'll pitch before a big crowd before I'm through the season!"
+declared Joe to himself, though it was not clear how this was to be
+brought about.
+
+Washburg had a good team, and knew how to make everything tell. They led
+off with a run, which, however, was due to an error on the part of two
+of the Cardinals. Joe was a little put out by it, for he had allowed
+only scattering hits that inning.
+
+"Better try to tighten up--if you can," advised Boswell, as our hero
+came to the bench. "They're finding you a bit."
+
+"They won't--any more!" exclaimed Joe, fiercely.
+
+The Washburg pitcher was a good one, as Joe knew, so it was not
+surprising that he was not so very badly batted. In fact, it was hard
+work for the Cardinals to garner three runs during their half of the
+first inning. But they got them.
+
+Joe had the advantage of knowing considerable about the various batters
+who faced him, so it was easier than it would have been for another
+pitcher to deceive them. He varied his delivery, used his fadeaway and
+his cross-fire, and had the satisfaction of pitching three innings
+during which he did not allow a hit.
+
+"That's the way to do it!" exclaimed his friend Boswell, the coach.
+"Hold 'em to that, and you'll have a look-in at a big game, soon."
+
+And Joe did. In vain did the Washburgs send in their best pinch hitters;
+in vain did they try to steal bases. Twice Joe nipped the man at first,
+who was taking too big a lead, and once the young pitcher stopped a hot
+liner that came driving right at him.
+
+Then the story was told, and the Cardinals romped home easy winners. Joe
+had done well, even though the Washburgs were not exactly big leaguers.
+
+In the weeks that followed, Joe worked hard. There was constant morning
+practice, when the weather allowed it, and the work on the circuit was
+exacting. Occasionally Joe went in as relief pitcher, when the game was
+safe in the "ice box," but the chance he wanted was to pitch against the
+New Yorks at St. Louis.
+
+For the Giants were at the top of the league now, and holding on to
+their pennant place with grim tenacity. In turn Joe and his fellow
+players went to Philadelphia, New York and Boston, eventually playing
+all around the circuit, but, as yet, the young pitcher had had no real
+chance to show what he could do.
+
+It was irksome--it was even heart-breaking at times; but Joe had to
+stand it. Sometimes he felt that he could do better than Barter, Willard
+and Cooney, the seasoned veterans, and especially was this so when the
+game went against the Cardinals.
+
+For the St. Louis team was falling sadly behind. They were next to the
+tail-enders for some time, and the outlook was dubious. The papers
+alternately roasted and poked fun at the Cardinals, and Manager Watson
+was urged to "do something."
+
+Various remedies were suggested. New players might be had, and in fact
+some exchanges were made. Another catcher was imported, from the
+Detroits, and a new shortstop engaged in a trade. But the pitching staff
+remained unchanged.
+
+Then some reporter, looking for "copy," saw a chance in Joe, and in a
+snappy little article reviewed Joe's career, ending with:
+
+"If Mr. Watson wants to see his Cardinals crawl up out of the subway why
+doesn't he give Matson a chance? The youngster can pitch good ball, and
+the line of twirling that has been handed out by the Cardinals thus far
+this season would be laughable, were it not lamentable."
+
+Of course that article made trouble for Joe, especially with the
+pitching staff.
+
+"Say, how much did you slip that reporter to pull off that dope about
+you?" inquired Willard with a sneer.
+
+"What do you mean?" asked Joe indignantly.
+
+"I mean how much coin did you pay him?"
+
+"You know I didn't have anything to do with it!" our hero fired back.
+"He asked me for my record, and I gave it to him. I didn't know he was
+going to write that."
+
+"A likely story," grumbled Willard.
+
+The other pitchers did not say so much, but it was clear they did not
+like the "roasting" they got. But it was not Joe's doing.
+
+There were shifts and re-shifts, there were hard feelings manifested,
+and gotten over. But nothing could disguise the fact that the Cardinals
+were in a "slump."
+
+Loyal as the St. Louis "fans" were to their teams, when they were on the
+winning side, it was not in human nature to love a losing nine.
+
+So that it got to be the fashion to refer to the Cardinals as "losing
+again." And this did not make for good ball playing, either. There were
+sore hearts among the players when they assembled in the clubhouse after
+successive defeats.
+
+Not that the Cardinals lost all the time. No team could do that, and
+stay in the big league. But they never got to the top of the second
+division, and even that was not much of an honor to strive for. Still,
+it was better than nothing.
+
+Joe pitched occasionally, and, when he did there was a little
+improvement, at times. But of course he was not a veteran, and once or
+twice he was wild.
+
+Then the paper which bore the least friendliness to the Cardinals took
+a different tack. It laughed at the manager for sending in a young
+pitcher when a veteran was needed.
+
+"Say, I'd like to know just what those fellows want me to do!" Mr.
+Watson exclaimed one day, after a particularly severe roast. "I can't
+seem to please 'em, no matter what I do."
+
+"Don't let 'em get your goat," advised his coach. "Go on. Keep going.
+We'll strike a winning streak yet, and mark my words, it will be Joe
+Matson who'll pull us out of a hole."
+
+"He hasn't done so well yet," objected Mr. Watson, dubiously.
+
+"No, and it's because he hasn't exactly found himself. He is a bit
+nervous yet. Give him time."
+
+"And stay in the cellar?"
+
+"Well, but what are you going to do?" reasoned the other. "Cooney and
+Barter aren't pitching such wonderful ball."
+
+"No, that's true, but they can generally pull up in a tight place. I'd
+send Matson in oftener than I do, only I'm afraid he'll blow up when the
+crises comes. He is a good pitcher, I admit that, but he isn't seasoned
+yet. The Central League and the National are a wide distance apart."
+
+"That's true. But I'd like to see him have his chance."
+
+"Well, I'll give it to him. We play Boston next week. They happen to be
+in the second division just at present, although they seem to be going
+up fast. I'll let Joe go up against them."
+
+"That won't be as good as letting him go against New York," said
+Boswell.
+
+"Well, it'll have to do," decided the manager, who could be very set in
+his ways at times.
+
+The Braves proved rather "easy," for the Cardinals and, as Boswell had
+indicated, there was little glory for Joe in pitching against them. He
+won his game, and this, coupled with the fact that the reporter friendly
+to Joe made much of it, further incensed the other pitchers.
+
+"Don't mind 'em," said Rad, and Joe tried not to.
+
+The season was advancing. Try as the Cardinals did, they could not get
+to the top of the second division.
+
+"And if we don't finish there I'll feel like getting out of the game,"
+said the manager gloomily, after a defeat.
+
+"Pitch Matson against the Giants," advised the coach.
+
+"By Jove! I'll do it!" cried the manager, in desperation. "We open with
+New York at St. Louis next week for four games. I'll let Matson see what
+he can do, though I reckon I'll be roasted and laughed at for taking
+such a chance."
+
+"Well, maybe not," the coach replied, chuckling.
+
+In the meanwhile Joe had been working hard. Under the advice of Boswell
+he adopted new training tactics, and he had his arm massaged by a
+professional between games. He was surprised at the result of the new
+treatment, and he found he was much fresher after a hard pitching battle
+than he had been before.
+
+"He thinks he's going to be a Boy Wonder," sneered Willard.
+
+"Oh, cut it out!" snapped Boswell. "If some of you old stagers would
+take better care of yourselves there'd be better ball played."
+
+"Huh!" sneered Willard.
+
+The Cardinals came back to St. Louis to play a series with New York.
+
+"Wow!" exclaimed Rad as he and Joe, discussing the Giants' record, were
+sitting together in the Pullman on their way to their home city, "here's
+where it looks as if we might get eaten up!"
+
+"Don't cross a bridge before you hear it barking at you," advised Joe.
+"Maybe they won't be so worse. We're on our own grounds, that's sure."
+
+"Not much in that," decided his chum, dubiously.
+
+When Joe reached the hotel he found several letters awaiting him. One,
+in a girl's handwriting, he opened first.
+
+"Does she still love you?" laughed Rad, noticing his friend's rapt
+attention.
+
+"Dry up! She's coming on to St. Louis."
+
+"She is? Good! Will she see you play?"
+
+"Well, I don't know. It doesn't look as though I was going to get a
+game--especially against New York."
+
+"Cheer up! There might be something worse."
+
+"Yes, I might have another run-in with Shalleg."
+
+"That's so. Seen anything of him lately?"
+
+"No, but I hear he's been writing letters to Mr. Watson, intimating that
+if the boss wants to see the team come up out of the subway, Shalleg is
+the man to help."
+
+"Some nerve; eh?"
+
+"I should say so!"
+
+It was a glorious sunny day, perhaps too hot, but that makes for good
+baseball, for it limbers up the players. The grandstand and bleachers
+were rapidly filling, and out on the well-kept diamond of Robison Field
+the rival teams--the Cardinals and the Giants--were practicing.
+
+Mabel Varley and her brother had come to St. Louis, stopping off on
+business, and Joe had called on them.
+
+"I'm coming out to see you play," Mabel announced after the greetings at
+the hotel.
+
+"I'm afraid you won't," said Joe, somewhat gloomily.
+
+"Why not?" she asked in surprise. "Aren't you on the pitching staff?"
+
+"Yes, but perhaps you haven't been keeping track of where the Cardinals
+stand in the pennant race."
+
+"Oh, yes, I have!" she laughed, and blushed. "I read the papers every
+day."
+
+"That's nice. Then you know we're pretty well down?"
+
+"Yes, but the season isn't half over yet. I think you'll do better."
+
+"I sure do hope so," murmured Joe. "But, for all that, I am afraid you
+won't see me pitch to-day. Mr. Watson won't dare risk me, though I think
+I could do some good work. I'm feeling fine."
+
+"Oh, I do hope you get a chance!" Mabel exclaimed enthusiastically.
+"Anyhow, I'm going to have one of the front boxes, and there are to be
+some girl friends with me. You know them, I think--Hattie Walsh and Jean
+Douglass."
+
+"Oh, yes, I remember them," Joe said. "Well, I hope you see us win, but
+I doubt it."
+
+And now, as the game was about to start, Joe looked up and saw, in one
+of the front boxes, Mabel and her friends. He went over to speak to
+them, as he walked in from practice.
+
+"For good luck!" said Mabel softly, as she gave him one of the flowers
+she was wearing.
+
+"Thanks," and Joe blushed.
+
+As yet the battery of the Cardinals had not been announced. Clearly
+Manager Watson was in a quandary. He and Boswell consulted together,
+while the players waited nervously. Some of the newspaper reporters,
+anxious to flash some word to their papers, asked who was to pitch.
+
+"I'll let you know in a few minutes," was the manager's answer.
+
+And then, as the time for calling the game approached, Mr. Watson handed
+his batting order to the umpire.
+
+The latter stared at it a moment before making the announcement. He
+seemed a trifle surprised.
+
+"Batteries!" he called through his megaphone. "For New York, Hankinson
+and Burke--for St. Louis--Matson and Russell."
+
+Joe was to pitch, and in the biggest game he had ever attempted!
+
+There was a rushing and roaring in his ears, and for a moment he could
+not see clearly.
+
+"Go to it, Matson," said the manager. "I'm going to try you out."
+
+Joe's lips trembled. He was glad his teammates could not know how he
+felt. Nervously he walked out to the mound, and caught the new ball
+which the umpire divested of its foil cover and tossed to him. Russell
+girded himself in protector and mask, and the batter stepped back to
+allow the usual practice balls.
+
+Someone in a box applauded. Joe could not see, but he knew it was Mabel.
+
+"Oh, Joe's going to pitch!" she exclaimed to her girl friends. "I hope
+he strikes them all out!"
+
+"Not much chance," her brother said, rather grimly.
+
+Joe sent the first ball whizzing in. It went so wild that the catcher
+had to jump for it. There was a murmur from the stands, and some of the
+Giants grinned at one another.
+
+Russell signalled to Joe that he wanted to speak to him. Pitcher and
+catcher advanced toward one another.
+
+"What's the matter?" Russell wanted to know, while some in the crowd
+laughed at the conference. "Got stage fright?"
+
+"Ye--yes," stammered Joe. Poor Joe, he had a bad case of nerves.
+
+"Say, look here!" exclaimed Russell with a intentional fierceness. "If
+you don't get over it, and pitch good ball, I'll give you the best
+beating up you ever had when we get to the clubhouse! I'm not going to
+stand being laughed at because you're such a rotten pitcher! Do you get
+me!" and he leered savagely at Joe.
+
+The effect on the young pitcher was like an electric shock. He had never
+been spoken to like that before. But it was just the tonic he needed.
+
+"I get you," he said briefly.
+
+"It's a good thing you do!" said Russell brutally, and, as he walked
+back to his place his face softened. "I hated to speak that way to the
+lad," he murmured to himself, "but it was the only way to get him over
+his fright."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+
+A QUEER MESSAGE
+
+
+The next practice ball Joe sent in went cleanly over the plate, and
+landed with a thud in the catcher's glove. Russell nodded at Joe, to
+indicate that was what he wanted.
+
+"Play ball!" directed the umpire, and the batter moved up closer to the
+plate.
+
+Stooping low, and concealing his signal with his big glove, Russell
+called for a straight, swift ball. Joe gave it, and as it was in the
+proper place, though the striker did not attempt to hit it, the umpire
+called:
+
+"Strike--one!"
+
+Indignantly the batter looked around, but it was only done for effect.
+He knew it was a strike.
+
+"That's the way. Now we've got 'em!" cried Boswell from the coaching
+line.
+
+"Ball one," was the next decision of the umpire, and Joe felt a little
+resentment, for he had made sure it went over the plate. But there was
+little use to object.
+
+A curve was next called for, and Joe succeeded in enticing the batter
+to strike at it. But the stick missed the horsehide cleanly. It was two
+strikes.
+
+"Pretty work! Oh, pretty work!" howled Boswell.
+
+A foul next resulted, and Russell missed it by inches. The batter had
+still another chance. But it availed him little, for Joe fooled him on
+the next one.
+
+"Good!" nodded the catcher to the young pitcher, and Joe felt his vision
+clearing now. He looked over toward where Mabel was sitting. She smiled
+encouragingly at him.
+
+The New Yorks got one hit off Joe that inning, but, though the man on
+first stole second, after Joe had tried to nip him several times, the
+other two men struck out, and a goose egg went up in the first frame.
+
+"Well, if you can do that eight more times the game is ours, if we can
+only get one run," said Manager Watson, as Joe came up to the bench,
+smiling happily.
+
+"I'll try," was all he said.
+
+But the Cardinals did not get their run that inning, nor the next nor
+the next nor next. The game ran along for five innings with neither side
+crossing home plate, and talk of a "pitchers' battle" began to be heard.
+Joe was pitching remarkably well, allowing only scattering hits. The
+Giants could not seem to bunch them.
+
+Then, as might have been expected, Joe had a bit of bad luck. There had
+been hard work for him that day--hard and nervous work, and it told on
+him. He was hit for a two-bagger, and the next man walked, though Joe
+thought some of the decisions unfair.
+
+Then the runner attempted to steal third. There was a wild throw, and
+the man came in, scoring the first run. Joe felt a wave of chagrin sweep
+over him. He felt that the game was going.
+
+"Tighten up! Tighten up!" he heard Boswell call to him. By a determined
+effort he got himself well in hand, and then amid the cheers of the
+crowd he succeeded in striking out the other men up, so that only the
+one run was in.
+
+But the pace was telling on Joe. He gave two men their base on balls the
+next time he pitched, and by a combination of circumstances, two more
+runs were made before the Giants were retired.
+
+"This won't do," murmured Mr. Watson. "I'm afraid I'll have to take Joe
+out."
+
+"Don't," advised Boswell. "He'll be all right, but if you take him out
+now you'll break him all up. I think he could have a little better
+support."
+
+"Possibly. The fielding is a bit shaky. I'll send in Lawson to bat for
+Campbell."
+
+This change resulted in a marked improvement With a mighty clout Lawson
+knocked a home run, and, as there was a man on third, that two. From
+then on the Cardinals seemed to find themselves. They began coming back
+in earnest, and everyone "got the habit." Even Joe, proverbially poor
+hitters as pitchers are supposed to be, did his share, and, by placing a
+neat little drive, that eluded the shortstop, he brought in another
+needed run.
+
+"One ahead now! That's fine!" cried Rad to his chum, though Joe "died"
+on second. "If we can only hold 'em down----" and he looked
+questioningly at the young pitcher.
+
+"I'll do it!" cried Joe, desperately.
+
+It did not look as though he would, though, when the first man up, after
+receiving three and two, was allowed to walk. Joe felt a bit shaky, but
+he steeled himself to hold his nerve. The man at first was a notorious
+base-stealer, and Joe watched him closely. Twice he threw to the initial
+sack, hoping to nip him, and he almost succeeded. Then he slammed in a
+swift one to the batter, only to know that the runner started for
+second.
+
+But it did him little good to do it, for though he made third, Joe
+struck out his three men amid a wave of applause.
+
+"One more like that, and we've got the game!" cried Mr. Watson. "It's up
+to you, Joe. But if you can't stand it I'll send in Slim."
+
+"I'll stand it," was the grim answer, though Joe's arm ached.
+
+And stand it Joe did. He was hit once in that last inning, and one man
+got his base on balls. And then and there Joe gave a remarkably nervy
+exhibition. He nipped the man on first, and then in quick succession
+succeeded in fooling the two batters next up.
+
+"That's the eye!"
+
+"The Cardinals win!"
+
+"What's the matter with Joe Matson?"
+
+"He's all right!"
+
+The crowd went wild, as it had a right to do, and Joe's face was as red
+with pleasure as the nickname of his team. For he had had a large share
+in defeating the redoubtable Giants, though to the credit of that team
+be it said that several of its best players were laid up, and, at a
+critical part in the game their best hitter was ruled out for abusing
+the umpire.
+
+But that took away nothing from Baseball Joe's glory.
+
+"Oh, I'm so glad you won!" cried Mabel, as he passed her box. "Isn't it
+glorious?"
+
+"It sure is," he admitted with a smile.
+
+"Can't you take dinner with us at the hotel?" she went on, and Joe
+blushingly agreed. The other girls smiled at him, and Reggie nodded in a
+friendly manner.
+
+"Great work, old man!" called Mabel's brother. "It was a neat game."
+
+Then Joe hurried off to have a shower, and dress, and in the clubhouse
+he was hailed genially by his fellow players.
+
+"Good work, Joe!"
+
+"I didn't think you had it in you."
+
+"This sure will make the Giants feel sore."
+
+As for Manager Watson, he looked at Joe in a manner that meant much to
+the young pitcher.
+
+"I told you so!" said the old coach to the manager, later that day.
+
+"Yes, you did," admitted the latter. "Of course I knew Joe had good
+stuff in him, but I didn't think it would come out so soon. He may help
+pull us up out of the cellar yet."
+
+Joe enjoyed the little dinner with Mabel and her friends that night, as
+he had seldom before taken pleasure in a gathering. Rad was one of the
+guests, and later they went to the theatre, as there was no game next
+day.
+
+But if the Cardinals expected to repeat their performance they were
+disappointed. Joe was started in another contest, and he was glad Mabel
+was not present, for somehow he could not keep control of the balls, and
+following a rather poor exhibition, he was taken out after the fourth
+inning. But it was too late to save the game.
+
+"Never mind, we got one of the four, and it was due to you," consoled
+Rad, when the series was over. "And you've found out what it is to stack
+up against the Giants."
+
+Joe had had his "baptism of fire," and it had done him good. The St.
+Louis team was to take the road again, after a time spent in the home
+town, where they had somewhat improved their standing.
+
+"Got anything to do this evening?" asked Rad, as they were coming back
+from the ball park, after a final game with Boston.
+
+"No."
+
+"Then let's go to the Park Theatre. There's a good hot-weather show on."
+
+"I'm with you."
+
+"All right. I've got to go down town, but I'll be back before it's time
+to go," Rad went on.
+
+Joe dressed, and waited around the hotel lobby for his friend to return.
+It grew rather late, and Joe glanced uneasily at the clock. He was
+rather surprised, as he stood at the hotel desk, to hear his name spoken
+by a messenger boy who entered.
+
+"Matson? There he is," and the clerk indicated our hero.
+
+"Sign here," said the boy, shortly. Joe wondered if the telegram
+contained bad news from home. Giving the lad a dime tip, Joe opened the
+envelope with fingers that trembled, and then he read this rather queer
+message:
+
+"If you want to do your friend Rad a good turn, come to the address
+below," and Joe recognized the street as one in a less desirable section
+of the city.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+
+IN DANGER
+
+
+"Bad news?" asked the hotel clerk, as he noticed the look on Joe's face.
+
+"No--yes--well, it's unexpected news," hesitated Joe, as he made up his
+mind, on the instant, not to tell the contents of the note. He wanted a
+little time to think. Rapidly he read the message over again. The boy
+was just shuffling out of the hotel.
+
+"Wait a minute!" Joe called after him. "Where'd you get this note?" the
+young pitcher asked.
+
+"At de office."
+
+"Yes, I know. But who brought it in?"
+
+"I dunno. Youse'll have to see de manager."
+
+"Oh, all right," Joe assented, and then he turned aside. He was still in
+a quandary as to what to do.
+
+Once more he read the note.
+
+"'If you want to do your friend Rad a good turn,'" he repeated. "Of
+course I do, but what does it mean? Rad can't be in trouble, or he'd
+have sent me some word himself. That isn't a very good neighborhood at
+night, but I guess I can take care of myself. The trouble is, though, if
+I go out, and Rad comes back here in the meanwhile, what will happen?"
+
+Joe was thinking hard, trying to find some solution of the mystery, and
+then a flash came to him.
+
+"Baseball!" he whispered to himself. "Maybe it is something to do with
+baseball! Someone may be scouting for Rad, and want to find out, on the
+quiet, if he's willing to help in making a shift to some other team.
+They want me to aid them, perhaps."
+
+Joe had been long enough in organized baseball to know that there are
+many twists and turns to it, and that many "deals" are carried on in
+what might be considered an underhand manner. Often, when rival
+organizations in the baseball world are at war, the various managers,
+and scouts, go to great lengths, and secretly, to get some player they
+consider valuable.
+
+"Maybe some rival club is after Rad and doesn't want its plans known,"
+mused Joe. "That must be it. They know he and I are chums, and they come
+to me first. Well, I sure do want to help Rad, but I don't want to see
+him leave the Cardinals. I guess I'll take a chance and go down there.
+I'll leave word at the desk that I'll meet Rad at the theatre. That
+will be the best. I can telephone back to the hotel, after I go to this
+address, and find out if Rad has been back here. I'll go."
+
+Stuffing the queer note into his pocket, Joe started off, catching a car
+that would take him near the address given. Before leaving, he arranged
+with the hotel clerk to tell Rad that he would meet him at the theatre.
+
+It was a rather dark, and quite lonesome, street in which Joe found
+himself after leaving the street car. On either side were tall buildings
+that shut out much of the light by day, while at night they made the
+place a veritable canyon of gloom. There were big warehouses and
+factories with, here and there, a smaller building, and some ramshackle
+dwellings that had withstood the encroachment of business.
+
+Some of these latter had fallen into decay, and others were being used
+as miserable homes by those who could afford no better. In one or two,
+saloons held forth, the light from their swinging doors making yellow
+patches on the dark pavement.
+
+"I wouldn't like to have to live down here," mused Joe, as he picked his
+way along, looking, as best he could, for the number given in the note.
+"It's a queer place to appoint a meeting, but I suppose the baseball
+fellows don't want to be spied on. I'll be glad when I'm through."
+
+Joe walked on a little farther. The neighborhood seemed to become more
+deserted and lonesome. From afar off came the distant hum and roar of
+the city, but all around Joe was silence, broken, now and then, by the
+sound of ribald laughter from the occasional saloons.
+
+"Ah, here's the place!" exclaimed Joe, as he stood in front of one of
+the few dwellings in the midst of the factories. "It looks gloomy
+enough. I wonder who can be waiting to see me here about Rad? Well,
+there's a light, anyhow."
+
+As Joe approached the steps of the old house he saw, at one side of the
+door, a board on which were scrawled the words:
+
+    _Peerless Athletic Club_
+
+"Hum! Must be a queer sort of club," mused Joe. "I guess they do more
+exercise with their tongues, and with billiard cues, than with their
+muscles."
+
+For, as he mounted the steps, he heard from within the click of billiard
+and pool balls, and the noise of talk and laughter. It was one of the
+so-called "athletic" clubs, that often abound in low neighborhoods,
+where the name is but an excuse for young "toughs" to gather. Under the
+name, and sometimes incorporation of a "club," they have certain rights
+and privileges not otherwise obtainable. They are often a political
+factor, and the authorities, for the sake of the votes they control,
+wink at minor violations of the law. It was to such a place as this that
+Joe had come--or, in view of what happened afterward, had been lured
+would be the more proper term.
+
+"Well, what do youse want?" asked an ill-favored youth, as Joe entered
+the poorly lighted hall. The fellow had his hat tilted to one side, and
+a cigarette was glued to one lip, moving up and down curiously as he
+spoke.
+
+"I don't know who I want," said Joe, as pleasantly as he could. "I was
+told to come here to do my friend Rad Chase a favor. I'm Joe Matson, of
+the Cardinals, and----"
+
+"Oh, yes. He's expectin' youse. Go on in," and the fellow nodded toward
+a back room, the door of which stood partly open. Joe hesitated a
+moment, while the youth who had spoken to him went out and stood on the
+half-rotting steps. Then, deciding that, as he had come thus far, he
+might as well see the thing through, Joe started for the rear room.
+
+But, as he reached the door, and heard a voice speaking, he hesitated.
+For what he heard was this:
+
+"S'posin' he don't come?"
+
+"Aw, he'll come all right, Wessel," said another voice. "He sure is
+stuck on his friend Rad, and he'll want to know what he can do for him.
+He'll come, all right."
+
+"Shalleg!" gasped Joe, as he recognized the tones. "It's a trick. He
+thinks he can trap me here!"
+
+As he turned to go, Joe heard Wessel say:
+
+"There won't be no rough work; will there?"
+
+"Oh, no! Not too rough!" replied Shalleg with a nasty laugh.
+
+Deciding that discretion was the better part of valor, Joe was hastening
+away when he accidentally knocked over a box in the hall. Instantly the
+door to the rear room was thrown wide open, giving the young pitcher, as
+he turned, a glimpse of Shalleg, Wessel and several other men seated
+about a table, playing cards.
+
+"Who's there?" cried Shalleg. Then, as he saw Joe hurrying away, he
+added: "Hold on, Matson. I sent for you. I want to see you!"
+
+"But I don't want to see you!" Joe called back over his shoulder.
+
+"Say, this is straight goods!" cried Shalleg, pushing back his chair
+from the table, the legs scraping over the bare boards of the floor.
+"It's all right. I've got a chance to do your friend Rad Chase a good
+turn, and you can help in it. Wait a minute!"
+
+But Joe fled, unheeding. Then Shalleg, seeing that his plans were about
+to miscarry, yelled:
+
+"Stop him, somebody!"
+
+Joe was running along the dim hallway. As he reached the outside steps
+the youth who had first accosted him turned, and made a grab for him.
+
+"What's your hurry?" he demanded. "Hold on!"
+
+Joe did not answer, but, eluding the outstretched hands, made the
+sidewalk in a jump and ran up the street. He was fleet of foot--his
+training gave him that--and soon he was safe from pursuit, though, as a
+matter of fact, no one came after him. Shalleg and his tools were hardly
+ready for such desperate measures yet, it seemed.
+
+Joe passed a side street, and, looking up it, saw at the other end, a
+more brilliantly lighted thoroughfare. Arguing rightly that he would be
+safer there, Joe turned up, and soon was in a more decent neighborhood.
+His heart was beating rapidly, partly from the run, and partly through
+apprehension, for he had an underlying fear that it would not have been
+for his good to have gone into the room where Shalleg was.
+
+"Whew! That was a happening," remarked Joe, as he slowed down. "I wonder
+what it all meant? Shalleg must be getting desperate. But why does he
+keep after me? Unless he thinks I am responsible for his not getting a
+place on the Cardinals. It's absurd to think that, but it does seem so.
+I wonder what I'd better do?"
+
+Joe tried to reason it out, and then came the recollection of Rad.
+
+"I'll telephone to the hotel, and see if he's come back," he said.
+"Then, when I meet him, I'll tell him all that happened. It's a queer
+go, sure enough."
+
+A telephone message to the hotel clerk brought the information that Rad
+had telephoned in himself, saying that he had been unexpectedly
+detained, and would meet Joe at the theatre entrance.
+
+"That's good!" thought our hero. For one moment, after running away from
+the gloomy house, he had had a notion that perhaps Rad had also been
+lured there. Now he knew his friend was safe.
+
+"Sorry I couldn't come back to the hotel for you," Rad greeted Joe, as
+they met in front of the theatre. "But my business took me longer than I
+counted on. We're in time for the show, anyhow. It starts a little later
+in summer."
+
+"That's all right," said Joe. "As a matter of fact I have been away from
+the hotel myself, for some time."
+
+"So the clerk said. Told me you'd gone out and left a message for me.
+Say, what's up, Joe? You look as though something had happened," for
+now, in the light, Rad had a glimpse of his chum's face, and it wore a
+strange look.
+
+"Something did happen," said Joe in a low voice. "I believe I was in
+danger. I'll tell you all about it," which he did, in a low voice,
+between the acts of the play.
+
+It is doubtful if either Joe or Rad paid much attention to what occurred
+on the stage that evening.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII
+
+A LAME ARM
+
+
+"But, great Scott, Joe!" exclaimed Rad, when he had been given all the
+facts of the strange occurrence, "that was a raw sort of deal!"
+
+"I think so myself."
+
+"Why don't you get the police after them?"
+
+"What would be the good? Nothing really happened, and just because I
+have an idea it would have, if I'd given them the chance to get at me,
+doesn't make them liable to arrest. I would look foolish going to the
+police."
+
+"Maybe so. But then there's that note. They didn't have any idea of
+doing me a good turn. That was almost a forgery."
+
+"The trouble is we can't prove it, though. I think the only thing I can
+do is to let it go, and be more careful in the future."
+
+"Well, maybe it is," agreed Rad slowly. "But what do you think was their
+object?"
+
+"I haven't the least idea," replied Joe. "That is, the only thing I can
+imagine is that Shalleg wanted to scare me; or, perhaps, threaten me
+for what he imagines I have done to him."
+
+"And that is?" questioned Rad.
+
+"That I've been spreading false reports about him to our manager, in
+order to keep him off the team. As a matter of fact, I don't believe I
+have ever mentioned him to Mr. Watson. It's all imagination on Shalleg's
+part."
+
+"What condition was he in to-night?" asked Rad, as he and Joe were on
+their way to the hotel after the play.
+
+"As far as I could judge, he was about as he has been most of the time
+lately--scarcely sober. That, and his gambling and irregular living,
+took him off the team, you know."
+
+"And he thinks, with that record behind him, that he can get on the
+Cardinals!" exclaimed Rad. "He's crazy!"
+
+"He's dangerous, too," added Joe. "I'm going to be more careful after
+this."
+
+"And you thought you were doing me a favor, old man?"
+
+"I sure did, Rad. I thought maybe some scout from another club was
+trying to secure your valuable services."
+
+"Now you're stringing me!"
+
+"No, I'm not, really. You know there are queer doings in baseball."
+
+"Yes, but none as queer as that. Well, I'm much obliged, anyhow. But
+after this you stick to me. If there's any danger we'll share it
+together!"
+
+"Thanks!" exclaimed Joe warmly.
+
+"Going to say anything to the boss about this?" asked Rad, after a
+pause.
+
+"I think not. Would you?"
+
+"Well, perhaps we might just as well keep still about it," agreed Rad.
+"We'll see if we can't trap this Shalleg and his crony, and put a stop
+to their game."
+
+"All they have been is a nuisance, so far," spoke Joe. "But there's no
+telling when they might turn to something else."
+
+"That's so. Well, we'll keep our weather eyes open."
+
+Joe was not a little unnerved by his experience, and he was glad there
+was not a game next day.
+
+The Cardinals had crept up a peg. They were now standing one from the
+top of the second division of clubs, and there began to be heard talk
+that they would surely lead their column before many more games had been
+played.
+
+"And maybe break into the first division!" exclaimed Trainer Boswell.
+"If you keep on the way you've started, Matson, we sure will do it!"
+
+"I'll do my best," responded Joe.
+
+In a series of four games with the Brooklyn Superbas the Cardinals broke
+even, thus maintaining their position. But they could not seem to climb
+any higher. Joe's pitching helped a lot, and he was regarded as a coming
+star. He was acquiring more confidence in himself, and that, in playing
+big baseball, helps a lot.
+
+Of course I am not saying that Joe did all the work for his team. No
+pitcher does, but a pitcher is a big factor. It takes batters to make
+hits and runs, however, and the Cardinals had their share of them. They
+could have done better with more, but good players brought high prices,
+and Manager Watson had spent all the club owners felt like laying out.
+
+The other pitchers of the Cardinals worked hard. It must not be imagined
+that because I dwell so much on Joe's efforts that he was the "whole
+show."
+
+Far from it. At times Joe had his "off days" as well as did the others,
+and there were times when he felt so discouraged that he wanted to give
+it all up, and go back to a smaller league.
+
+But Joe had grit, and he stuck to it. He was determined to make as great
+a name for himself as is possible in baseball, and he knew he must take
+the bitter with the sweet, and accept defeat when it came, as it is
+bound to now and then.
+
+Nor did his determination to overcome obstacles fail of its object.
+With the other members of the team, Joe played so surprisingly well that
+suddenly the Cardinals took one of those remarkable "braces" that
+sometimes come in baseball, and from eighth position the club leaped
+forward into fifth, being aided considerably by some hard luck on the
+part of the other teams. In other words, "things broke right" for the
+Cardinals and the St. Louis "fans" began to harbor hopes of a possible
+pennant.
+
+Joe had several incentives for doing his best. There were his folks. He
+wanted to justify his father's faith in him, and also his sister's. Joe
+knew that his mother, in spite of her kind and loving ways, was secretly
+disappointed that he had quit his college career to become a baseball
+player.
+
+"But I'll show her that it's just as honorable as one of the learned
+professions, and that it pays better in a great many cases," reasoned
+Joe. "Though of course the money end of it isn't the biggest thing in
+this world," he told himself. "Still it is mighty satisfactory."
+
+Then there was another reason why Joe wanted to make good. Or, rather,
+there was another person he wanted to have hear of his success. I guess
+you know her name.
+
+And so the young pitcher kept on, struggling to perfect himself in the
+technicalities of the big game, playing his position for all it was
+capable of. As the season went on Joe's name figured more and more often
+in the papers.
+
+"He's got reporters on his staff!" sneered Willard.
+
+"Well, I wish we all had," observed Manager Watson. "Publicity counts,
+and I want all I can get for my players. It's a wonder some of you
+fellows wouldn't have your name in the papers oftener."
+
+"I don't play to the grandstand," growled the grouchy pitcher.
+
+"Maybe it would help some if you did," the manager remarked quietly.
+
+The baseball practice and play went on. Joe was called on more often now
+to pitch a game, as Mr. Watson was kind enough to say some of the club's
+success was due to him, and while of course he was not considered the
+equal of the veteran pitchers, he was often referred to as a "comer."
+
+What Joe principally lacked was consistency. He could go in and pitch a
+brilliant game, but he could not often do it two days in succession. In
+this respect he was not unlike many celebrated young pitchers. Joe was
+not fully developed yet. He had not attained his full growth, and he had
+not the stamina and staying power that would come with added years. But
+he was acquiring experience and practice that would stand him in good
+stead, and his natural good health, and clean manner of living, were in
+his favor.
+
+The Cardinals had come back to St. Louis in high spirits over their
+splendid work on the road.
+
+"We ought to take at least three from the Phillies," said Boswell, for
+they were to play four games with the Quaker City nine. "That will help
+some."
+
+"If we win them," remarked Joe, with a smile.
+
+"Well, we're depending on you to help," retorted the trainer.
+
+Joe only smiled.
+
+There was some discussion in the papers as to who would pitch the first
+game against the Phillies, and it was not settled until a few minutes
+before the game was called, when Slim Cooney was sent in.
+
+"I guess Mr. Watson wants to make sure of at least the first one,"
+remarked Joe, as he sat on the bench.
+
+"Oh, you'll get a chance," Boswell assured him. "You want to keep
+yourself right on edge. No telling when you'll be called on."
+
+It was a close game, and it was not until the eleventh inning that the
+home team pulled in the winning run. Then, with jubilant faces, the
+members hurried to the clubhouse.
+
+"Whew!" whistled Cooney, as he swung his southpaw arm about. "I sure
+will be lame to-morrow."
+
+"You can have a rest," the manager informed him. "And be sure to have
+your arm massaged well. This is going to be a stiffer proposition than I
+thought."
+
+"Did you see him at the game?" asked Rad of Joe, as they walked along
+together.
+
+"See who?"
+
+"Shalleg."
+
+"No. Was he there?"
+
+"He sure was! I had a glimpse of him over in the bleachers when I ran
+after that long drive of Mitchell's. He was with that Wessel, but they
+didn't look my way."
+
+"Humph!" mused Joe. "Well, I suppose he's got a right to come to our
+games. If he bothers me, though, I'll take some action."
+
+"What?"
+
+"I don't know, yet. But I'm through standing for his nonsense."
+
+"I don't blame you."
+
+If Joe could have seen Shalleg and Wessel talking to a certain "tough"
+looking character, after the game, and at the same time motioning in his
+direction, he would have felt added uneasiness.
+
+"Oh, let's go out to some summer garden and cool off," proposed Rad
+after supper. It was a hot night, and sitting about the hotel was
+irksome.
+
+"All right," agreed Joe, and they started for a car. The same "tough"
+looking character who had been talking with Wessel and Shalleg took the
+car as well.
+
+Coming back, after sitting through an open-air moving picture
+performance, Joe and Rad found all the cars crowded. It was an open one,
+and Joe and Rad had given their seats to ladies, standing up and holding
+to the back of the seat in front of them. Just beyond Joe was a burly
+chap, the same one who had left the hotel at the time they did. He kept
+his seat.
+
+Then, as the car reached a certain corner, this man got up hurriedly.
+
+"Let me past! I want to get off!" he exclaimed, in unnecessarily rough
+tones to Joe, at the same time pressing hard against him.
+
+"Certainly," the young pitcher replied, removing his hands from the seat
+in front of him. At that moment the car stopped with a sudden jerk, and
+the fellow grabbed Joe by the right arm, twisting it so that the ball
+player cried out, involuntarily.
+
+"'Scuse me!" muttered the fellow. "I didn't mean to grab youse so hard.
+I didn't know youse was so tender," he sneered.
+
+"Seems to me you could have grabbed the seat," objected Joe, wincing
+with pain.
+
+The other did not answer, but afterward Rad said he thought he saw him
+wink and grin maliciously.
+
+"Hurt much?" asked Rad of Joe, as the fellow got off and the car went on
+again.
+
+"It did for a minute. It's better now."
+
+"It looked to me as though he did that on purpose," said Rad.
+
+"He certainly was very clumsy," spoke one of the ladies to whom Joe and
+Rad had given their places. "He stepped on my foot, too."
+
+Joe worked his arm up and down to limber the muscles, and then thought
+little more about the incident. That is, until the next morning. He
+awoke with a sudden sense of pain, and as he stretched out his pitching
+arm, he cried out.
+
+"What's the matter?" asked Rad.
+
+"My arm's sore and lame!" complained Joe. "Say, this is tough luck! And
+maybe I'll get a chance to pitch to-day."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV
+
+A TIGHT GAME
+
+
+Rad gave a look at his chum, and then, sliding out of bed, ran to the
+window.
+
+"No luck!" he exclaimed.
+
+"What do you mean?" asked Joe.
+
+"I mean it isn't raining."
+
+"What has that got to do with it?" the young pitcher wanted to know, as
+he moved his sore arm back and forth, a little frown of pain showing on
+his face at each flexing movement.
+
+"Why, if it rained we wouldn't have any game, and you'd get a chance to
+rest and get in shape. It's a dead cinch that you or Barter will be
+called on to-day. Willard has 'Charlie-horse,' and he can't pitch. So
+it's you or Barter."
+
+"Then I guess it will have to be Barter," said Joe with a grimace. "I'm
+afraid I can't go in. And yet I hate to give up and say I can't pitch.
+It's tough luck!"
+
+"Does it hurt much?" Rad wanted to know.
+
+"Enough, yes. I could stand it, ordinarily, but every time I move it
+will make it worse."
+
+"Is it where that fellow pinched you, in getting off the car last
+night?"
+
+"He didn't pinch me," said Joe, "it was a deliberate twist."
+
+"Deliberate?" questioned Rad in surprise.
+
+"It sure was!" exclaimed the young pitcher decidedly. "The more I think
+of it the more I'm certain that he did it deliberately."
+
+"But why should he?" went on Rad. "You didn't prevent him from getting
+out of the car. There was plenty of room for him to pass. Why should he
+try to hurt you?"
+
+"I don't know," answered Joe, "unless he was put up to it by----"
+
+"By Jove! Shalleg! Yes!" cried Rad. "I believe you're right. Shalleg is
+jealous of you, and he wants to see you kept out of the game, just
+because he didn't make the nine. And I guess, too, he'd be glad to see
+the Cardinals lose just to make Manager Watson feel sore. That's it,
+Joe, as sure as you're a foot high!"
+
+"Oh, I don't know as he thought the Cardinals would lose because I
+didn't pitch," said Joe, slowly, "but he may have been set on me by
+Shalleg, out of spite. Well, there's no use thinking about that now.
+I've got to do something about this arm. I think I'll send word that I
+won't be in shape to-day."
+
+"No, don't you do it!" cried Rad. "Maybe we can fix up your arm. I know
+how to make a dandy liniment that my mother used on me when I was a
+small chap."
+
+"Liniment sounds good," said Joe with a smile. "But I guess I'd better
+have Boswell look at it. He's got some of his own----"
+
+"Yes, and then you'd have to admit that you're lame, and give the whole
+thing away!" interrupted Rad. "Don't do it. Leave it to me. There's some
+time before the game and I can give you a good rubbing, meanwhile. I'll
+send out to the drug store, get the stuff made up, and doctor you here.
+
+"There'll be no need to tell 'em anything about it if I can get you into
+shape, and then, if you're called on, you can go in and pitch. If they
+think you're crippled they won't give you a chance."
+
+"That's so," admitted Joe.
+
+"Still, you wouldn't go in if you didn't think you could do good work,"
+went on his chum.
+
+"Certainly I would not," agreed Joe. "That would be too much like
+throwing the game. Well, see what you can do, Rad. I'd like to get a
+good whack at the fellow who did this, though," he went on, as he worked
+his arm slowly back and forth.
+
+Rad rang for a messenger, and soon had in from a drug store a bottle of
+strong-smelling liniment, with which he proceeded to massage Joe's arm.
+He did it twice before the late breakfast to which they treated
+themselves, and once afterward, before it was time to report at the park
+for morning practice.
+
+"Does it feel better?" asked Rad, as his chum began to do some pitching
+work.
+
+"A whole lot, yes."
+
+It was impossible to wholly keep the little secret from Boswell. He
+watched Joe for a moment and then asked suddenly:
+
+"Arm stiff?"
+
+"A bit, yes," the pitcher was reluctantly obliged to admit.
+
+"You come in the clubhouse and have it attended to!" ordered the
+trainer. "I can't have you, or any of the boys, laid up."
+
+Then, as he got out his bottle of liniment, and looked at Joe's arm, one
+of the ligaments of which had been strained by the cruel twist, Boswell
+said, sniffing the air suspiciously:
+
+"You've been using some of your own stuff on that arm; haven't you?"
+
+"Yes," admitted Joe.
+
+"I thought so. Well, maybe it's good, but my stuff is better. I'll soon
+have you in shape."
+
+He began a scientific massage of the sore arm, something of which, with
+all his good intentions, Rad was not capable. Joe felt the difference at
+once, and when he went back to practice he was almost himself again.
+
+"How about you?" asked Rad, when he got the chance.
+
+"I guess I'll last out--if I have to pitch," replied Joe. "But it's not
+certain that I shall go in."
+
+"The Phillies are out to chew us up to-day," went on his chum. "It's
+going to be a tight game. Don't take any chances."
+
+"I won't; you may depend on that."
+
+There was a conference between Boswell and the manager.
+
+"Who shall I put in the box?" asked the latter, for he often depended in
+a great measure on the old trainer.
+
+"Let Barter open the ball, and see how he does. It's my notion that he
+won't stand the pace, for he's a little off his feed. But I want to take
+a little more care of Matson, and this will give him a couple of innings
+to catch up."
+
+"Matson!" cried the manager. "Has he----"
+
+"Just a little soreness," said Boswell quickly, for that was all he
+imagined it to be. He had not asked Joe how it happened, for which the
+young pitcher was glad. "It'll be all right with a little more rubbing."
+He knew Joe's hope, and wanted to do all he could to further it.
+
+"All right. Announce Barter and Russell as the battery. And you look
+after Matson; will you?"
+
+"I sure will. I think Joe can pitch his head off if he gets the chance."
+
+"I hope he doesn't lose his head," commented the manager grimly. "It's
+going to be a hard game."
+
+Which was the opinion of more than one that day.
+
+Joe was taken in charge by Boswell, and in the clubhouse more attention
+was given to the sore arm.
+
+"How does it feel now?" asked the trainer, anxiously.
+
+"Fine!" replied Joe, and really the pain seemed all gone.
+
+"Then come out and warm up with me. You'll be needed, if I am any
+judge."
+
+To Joe's delight he found that he could send the ball in as swiftly as
+ever, and with good aim.
+
+"You'll do!" chuckled Boswell. "And just in time, too. There goes a home
+run, and Barter's been hit so hard that we'll have to take him out."
+
+It was the beginning of the third inning, and, sure enough, when it came
+the turn of the Cardinals to bat, a substitution was made, and the
+manager said:
+
+"Get ready, Joe. You'll pitch the rest of the game."
+
+Joe nodded, with a pleased smile, but, as he raised his arm to bend it
+back and forth, a sharp spasm of pain shot through it.
+
+"Whew!" whistled Joe, under his breath. "I wonder if the effects of that
+liniment are wearing off? If they are, and that pain comes back, I'm
+done for, sure. What'll I do?"
+
+There was little time to think; less to do anything. Joe would not bat
+that inning, that was certain. He took a ball, and, nodding to Rad, who
+was not playing, went out to the "bull-pen."
+
+"What's up?" asked Rad, cautiously.
+
+"I felt a little twinge. I just want to try the different balls, and
+find which I can deliver to best advantage to myself. You catch."
+
+Rad nodded understandingly. To Joe's delight he found that in throwing
+his swift one, the spitter, and his curves he had no pain. But his
+celebrated fadeaway made him wince when he twisted his arm into the
+peculiar position necessary to get the desired effect.
+
+"Wow!" mused Joe. "I can't deliver that, it's a sure thing. Well, I'm
+not going to back out now. I'll stay in as long as I can. But it's going
+to hurt!"
+
+He shut his teeth, and, trying to keep away from his face the shadow of
+pain, threw his fadeaway to Rad again.
+
+The pain shot through his arm like a sharp knife.
+
+"But I'll do it!" thought Joe, grimly.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV
+
+IN NEW YORK
+
+
+"That's good," called Rad, as he caught a swift one. "You'll do, Joe."
+
+But only the young pitcher knew what an effort it was going to cost him
+to stay in that game. And stay he must.
+
+It was time for the Cardinals to take the field. The Phillies were two
+runs ahead, and that lead must be cut down, and at least one more tally
+made if the game were to be won.
+
+"Can we do it?" thought Joe. He felt the pain in his arm, but he ground
+his teeth and muttered: "I'm going to do it!"
+
+The play started off with the new pitcher in the box. The news went
+flashing over the telegraph wires from the reporters on the ground to
+the various bulletin boards through the country, and to the newspaper
+offices. Baseball Joe was pitching for the Cardinals.
+
+But Joe was not thinking of the fame that was his. All he thought of was
+the effort he must make to pitch a winning game.
+
+Fortunately for him three of the weakest batters on the Phillies faced
+him that inning. Joe knew it, and so did the catcher, for he did not
+signal for the teasing fadeaway, for which Joe was very glad.
+
+Joe tried a couple of practice balls, but he did not slam them in with
+his usual force, at which the man in the mask wondered. He had not heard
+of Joe's lame arm, and he reasoned that his partner was holding back for
+reasons best known to himself.
+
+"Ball one!" yelled the umpire when Joe had made his first delivery to
+the batter. Joe winced, partly with pain, and partly because of the
+wasted effort that meant so much to him.
+
+"The next one won't be a ball!" he muttered fiercely. He sent in a
+puzzling curve that enticed the batter.
+
+"Strike one!"
+
+"That's better!" yelled Boswell, from the coaching line. "Serve 'em some
+more like that, Joe."
+
+And Joe did. No one but himself knew the effort it cost him, but he kept
+on when it was agony to deliver the ball. Perhaps he should not have
+done it, for he ran the chance of injuring himself for life, and also
+ran the chance of losing the game for his team.
+
+But Joe was young--he did not think of those things. He just
+pitched--not for nothing had he been dubbed "Baseball Joe."
+
+"You're out!" snapped the umpire to the first batter, who turned to the
+bench with a sickly grin.
+
+Joe faced the next one. To his alarm the catcher signalled for a
+fadeaway. Joe shook his head. He thought he could get away with a
+straight, swift one.
+
+But when the batter hit it Joe's heart was in his throat until he saw
+that it was a foul. By a desperate run Russell caught it. Joe pitched
+the next man out cleanly.
+
+"That's the way to do it!"
+
+"Joe, you're all right!"
+
+"Now we'll begin to do something!"
+
+Thus cried his teammates.
+
+And from then on the Phillies were allowed but one more tally. This
+could not be helped, for Joe was weakening, and could not control the
+ball as well as at first. But the run came in as much through errors on
+the part of his fellow players as from his own weakness.
+
+Meanwhile the Cardinals struck a batting streak, and made good, bunching
+their hits. The ending of the eighth inning saw the needed winning run
+go up in the frame of the Cardinals, and then it was Joe's task to hold
+the Phillies hitless in their half of the ninth.
+
+How he did it he did not know afterward. His arm felt as though someone
+were jabbing it with a knife. He gritted his teeth harder and harder,
+and stuck it out. But oh! what a relief it was when the umpire, as the
+third batter finished at the plate, called:
+
+"You're out!"
+
+The Cardinals had won! Joe's work for the day was finished. But at what
+cost only he knew. Pure grit had pulled him through.
+
+"Say, did you pitch with that arm?" asked Boswell in surprise as he saw
+Joe under the shower in the clubhouse later.
+
+"Well, I made a bluff at it," said Joe, grimly and gamely.
+
+"Well, I'll be Charlie-horsed!" exclaimed the trainer. "Say, you won't
+do any more pitching for a week! I've got to take you in hand."
+
+Of course the story of Joe's grit got out, and the papers made much of
+how he had pitched through nearly a full game, winning it, too, which
+was more, with a badly hurt arm.
+
+"But don't you take any such chances as that again!" cried Manager
+Watson, half fiercely, when he heard about it. "I can't have my pitchers
+running risks like that. Pitchers cost too much money!"
+
+This was praise enough for Joe.
+
+And so he had a much-needed rest. Under the care of Boswell the arm
+healed rapidly, though, for some time, Joe was not allowed to take part
+in any big games, for which he was sorry.
+
+Whether it was the example of Joe's grit, or because they had improved
+of late was not made manifest, but the Cardinals took three of the four
+games with the Phillies, which made Manager Watson gleeful.
+
+"They called us tail-enders!" he exulted, "but if we don't give the
+Giants a rub before the end of the season I'll miss my guess!"
+
+The Cardinals were on the move again. They went from city to city,
+playing the scheduled games, winning some and losing enough to keep them
+about in fifth place. Joe saw much of life, of the good and bad sides.
+Many temptations came to him, as they do to all young fellows, whether
+in the baseball game, or other business or pleasure. But Joe "passed
+them up." Perhaps the memory of a certain girl helped him. Often it
+does.
+
+The Cardinals came to New York, once more to do battle with the
+redoubtable Giants.
+
+"But you won't get a game!" declared Manager McGraw to "Muggins" Watson.
+
+"Won't we? I don't know about that. I'm going to spring my colt slab
+artist on you again."
+
+"Who, Matson?"
+
+"Um," said the manager of the Cardinals.
+
+"Um," responded the manager of the Giants, laughing.
+
+St. Louis did get one game of a double-header, and Joe, whose arm was in
+perfect trim again, pitched. It was while he was on the mound that a
+certain man, reputed to be a scout for the Giants, was observed to be
+taking a place where he could watch the young pitcher to advantage.
+
+"Up to your old tricks; eh, Jack?" asked a man connected with the
+management of the Cardinals. "Who are you scouting for now?"
+
+"Well, that little shortstop of yours looks pretty good to me," was the
+drawling answer. "What you s'pose you'll be asking for him."
+
+"He's not for sale. Now if you mentioned the centre fielder, Jack----"
+
+"Nothing doing. I've got one I'll sell you cheap."
+
+"I don't suppose you want to make an offer for Matson; do you?" asked
+the Cardinal man with a slow wink.
+
+"Oh, no, we've got all the pitchers we can use," the Giant scout
+responded quickly. It is thus that their kind endeavor to deceive one
+another.
+
+But, as the game went on, it might have been observed that the Giant
+scout changed his position, where he could observe Joe in action from
+another angle.
+
+"Didn't see anything of Shalleg since we struck Manhattan; did you,
+Joe?" asked Rad, as he and his chum, taking advantage of a rainy day in
+New York, were paying a visit to the Museum of Natural History.
+
+"No," replied Joe, pausing in front of a glass case containing an
+immense walrus. "I don't want to see him, either. I'm sure he planned to
+do me some harm, and I'm almost positive that some of his tools had to
+do with my sore arm. But I can't prove it."
+
+"That's the trouble," admitted Rad. "Well, come on, I want to see that
+model of the big whale. They say it's quite a sight."
+
+The rain prevented games for three days, and the players were getting a
+bit "stale" with nothing to do. Then the sun came out, the grounds dried
+up and the series was resumed. But the Cardinals were not very lucky.
+
+Philadelphia was the next stopping place, and there, once again, the
+Cardinals proved themselves the masters of the Quakers. They took three
+games straight, and sweetened up their average wonderfully, being only a
+game and a half behind the fourth club.
+
+"If we can only keep up the pace!" said the manager, wistfully. "Joe,
+are you going to help us do it?"
+
+"I sure am!" exclaimed the young pitcher.
+
+There was one more game to play with the Phillies. The evening before it
+was scheduled, which would close their stay in the Quaker City, Joe left
+the hotel, and strolled down toward the Delaware River. He intended to
+take the ferry over to Camden, in New Jersey, for a friend of his mother
+lived there, and he had promised to call on her.
+
+Joe did not notice that, as he left the hotel, he was closely followed
+by a man who walked and acted like Wessel. But the man wore a heavy
+beard, and Wessel, the young pitcher remembered was usually
+smooth-shaven.
+
+But Joe did not notice. If he had perhaps he would have seen that the
+beard was false, though unusually well adjusted.
+
+Joe turned his steps toward the river front. It was a dark night, for
+the sky was cloudy and it looked like rain.
+
+Joe just missed one ferryboat, and, as there would be some little time
+before the other left, he strolled along the water front, looking at
+what few sights there were. Before he realized it, he had gone farther
+than he intended. He found himself in a rather lonely neighborhood, and,
+as he turned back a bearded man, who had been walking behind the young
+pitcher for some time, stepped close to him.
+
+"I beg your pardon," the man began, speaking as though he had a heavy
+cold, "but could you direct me to the Reading Terminal?"
+
+"Yes," said Joe, who had a good sense of direction, and had gotten the
+"lay of the land" pretty well fixed in his mind. "Let's see now--how I
+can best direct you?"
+
+He thought for a moment. By going a little farther away from the ferry
+he could put the stranger on a thoroughfare that would be more direct
+than traveling back the way he had come.
+
+"If you wouldn't mind walking along a little way," said the man eagerly.
+"I'm a stranger here, and----"
+
+"Oh, I'll go with you," offered Joe, good-naturedly. "I'm not in any
+hurry."
+
+Be careful, Joe! Be careful!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI
+
+ADRIFT
+
+
+"There," said Baseball Joe, coming to a halt at a dark street corner,
+the stranger close beside him, "if you go up that way, and turn as I
+told you to, it will take you directly to the Reading Terminal."
+
+"I don't know how to thank you," mumbled the other. He seemed to be
+fumbling in his pocket. "I'll give you my card," he went on. "If you are
+ever in San Francisco----"
+
+But it was not a card that he pulled from the inner pocket of his coat.
+It was a rag, that bore a strange, faint odor. Joe stepped back, but not
+quickly enough. He suspected something wrong, but he was too late.
+
+An instant later the stranger had thrown one powerful arm about
+the young pitcher, and, with his other hand he pressed the
+chloroform-saturated rag to Joe's nose and mouth.
+
+Joe tried to cry out, and struggled to free himself. But his senses
+seemed leaving him under the influence of the powerful drug.
+
+At that moment, as though it had been timing itself to the movements of
+the man who had followed Joe, there drove up a large ramshackle cab, and
+out of it jumped two men.
+
+"Did you get him, Wes?" one asked eagerly.
+
+"I sure did. Here, help me. He's gone off. Get him into the cab."
+
+Poor Joe's senses had all but left him. He was an inert mass, but he
+could hear faintly, and he recognized the voice of Shalleg.
+
+He tried to rouse himself, but it was as though he were in a heavy
+sleep, or stupor. He felt himself being lifted into a cab. The door
+slammed shut, and then he was rattled away over the cobbles.
+
+"I wonder what they're going to do with me?" Joe thought. He had enough
+of his brain in working order to do that. Once more he tried to
+struggle.
+
+"Better tie him up," suggested a voice he now recognized as that of the
+fellow who had twisted his arm on the street car.
+
+"Yes, I guess we had," agreed Shalleg. "And then to the Delaware with
+him!"
+
+Joe was too weak, and too much under the influence of the drug, to care
+greatly what they did with him--that is, in a sense, though a feeling of
+terror took possession of him at the words.
+
+"The river!" gasped Wessel. "I thought you said there'd be no violence,
+Shalleg."
+
+"And there won't!" promised the leader of the conspirators.
+
+"But you said to tie him, and then to the river with him."
+
+"You don't s'pose I'm going to chuck him in; do you?" was the angry
+question.
+
+"I don't know."
+
+"Well, I'm not! I'm just going to put him out of the way for a time. I
+told him I'd get even with him for not helping me out of a hole, and
+then for spreading reports about me, that kept me from getting a place
+on the Cardinals, as well as on any other team. I told him I'd fix him!"
+
+So, this was the secret of Shalleg's animosity! He had a fancied
+grievance against Joe, and was taking this means of gratifying his
+passion for revenge. Joe, dimly hearing, understood now. He longed to be
+able to speak, to assure Shalleg that he was all wrong, but they had
+bound a rag about his mouth, and he could not utter a sound, even had
+not the chloroform held his speech in check.
+
+"Pass over those ropes," directed Shalleg to his cronies in the cab,
+which lurched and swayed over the rough stones. The cab held four, on a
+pinch, and Joe was held and supported by one of the men. The gag in the
+young pitcher's mouth was made tighter, and ropes were passed about his
+arms and feet. He could not move.
+
+"What's the game?" asked Wessel, as the trussing-up was finished.
+
+"Well, I don't want to do him any real harm," growled Shalleg, "but I'm
+going to put him out of the game, just as I was kept out of it by his
+tattling tongue. I'm going to make him fail to show up to-morrow, and
+the next day, too, maybe. That'll put a crimp in his record, and in the
+Cardinals', too, for he's been doing good work for them. I'll say that
+about him, much as I hate him!"
+
+Joe heard this plot against him, heard it dimly, through his half-numbed
+senses, and tried to struggle free from his bonds. But he could not.
+
+On rattled the cab. Joe could not tell in which direction they were
+going, but he was sure it was along the lonely river front. The effects
+of the chloroform were wearing off, but the gag kept him silent, and the
+ropes bound his hands and feet.
+
+"Have any trouble trailing him?" asked Shalleg of Wessel, who had
+disguised himself with a false beard.
+
+"Not a bit," was the answer. "It was pie! I pretended I had lost my
+way."
+
+The men laughed. Either they thought Joe was still incapable of hearing
+them, or they did not care if their identity and plans were known.
+
+A multitude of thoughts rushed through Joe's head. He did not exactly
+understand what the men were going to do with him. They had spoken of
+taking him to the river. Perhaps they meant to keep him prisoner on a
+boat until his contract with the St. Louis team would be void, because
+of his non-appearance. And Joe knew how hard it would be to get back in
+the game after that.
+
+True, he could explain how it had happened, and he felt sure he would
+not be blamed. But when would he get a chance to make explanations? And
+there was the game to-morrow! He knew he would be called on to pitch,
+for Mr. Watson had practically told him so. And Joe would not be on
+hand.
+
+"Aren't we 'most there?" asked Wessel.
+
+"Yes," answered Shalleg, shortly.
+
+"What are we to do?" asked the other.
+
+"You'll know soon enough," was the half-growled reply.
+
+The cab rattled on. Then it came to a stop. Joe could smell the dampness
+of the river, and he realized that the next act in the episode was about
+to be played.
+
+He felt himself being lifted out of the cab, and he had a glimpse of a
+street, but it was too dark to recognize where it was, and Joe was not
+well enough acquainted with Philadelphia to know the neighborhood. Then
+a handkerchief was bound over his eyes, and he was in total darkness.
+
+He heard whispered words between Shalleg and the driver of the cab, but
+could not make out what they were. Then the vehicle rattled off.
+
+"Catch hold of him now," directed Shalleg to his companions. "We'll
+carry him down to the river."
+
+"To the river!" objected Wessel, and Joe felt a shiver go through him.
+
+"Well, to the boat then!" snapped Shalleg. "Don't talk so much."
+
+Joe felt himself being carried along, and, a little later, he was laid
+down on what he felt was the bottom of a boat. A moment later he could
+tell by the motion of the craft that he was adrift on the Delaware.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII
+
+THE RESCUE
+
+
+For a few moments Joe was in a sort of daze. He was extremely
+uncomfortable, lying on the hard bottom of the boat, and there seemed to
+be rough water, for the craft swayed, and bobbed up and down.
+
+Joe wondered if he was alone, for he did not hear the noise of oars in
+the locks, nor did he catch the voices of the three rascals.
+
+But it soon developed that they were with him, for, presently Wessel
+asked:
+
+"Where are we going with him?"
+
+"Keep still!" snapped Shalleg in a tense whisper. "Do you want someone
+to hear us?"
+
+"Who, him?"
+
+"No, someone on these ships. We're right alongside of 'em yet. Keep
+still; can't you!"
+
+Wessel subsided, but one of Joe's questions was answered. There were
+other problems yet unsolved, though. What were they going to do with
+him? He could only wait and learn.
+
+The bandage was still over his eyes, and he tried, by wrinkling the
+skin of his forehead, to work it loose. But he could not succeed. He
+wished he could have some glimpse, even a faint one, in the darkness, of
+where he was, though perhaps it would have done him little good.
+
+"Take the oars now," directed Shalleg, after a pause. "I guess it's safe
+to row out a bit. There aren't so many craft here now. But go easy."
+
+"Hadn't we better show a light?" asked the man who had twisted Joe's
+arm. "We might be run down!"
+
+"Light nothing!" exclaimed Shalleg, who now spoke somewhat above a
+whisper. "I don't want some police launch poking her nose up here. It's
+light enough for us to see to get out of the way if anything comes
+along. I'm not going to answer any hails."
+
+"Oh, all right," was the answer.
+
+Joe's head was beginning to clear itself from the fumes of the
+chloroform, and he could think more clearly. He wondered more and more
+what his fate was to be. Evidently the men were taking him somewhere in
+a rowboat. But whether he was to be taken wherever they were going, in
+this small craft, or whether it was being used to transport them to a
+larger boat, he could not, of course, determine.
+
+The men rowed on for some time in silence.
+
+"It's getting late," ventured Wessel at length.
+
+"Not late enough, though," growled Shalleg.
+
+Joe went over, in his mind, all the events that had been crowded into
+the last few hours. He had told Rad that he was going to see his
+mother's friend in Camden, but had given no address.
+
+"They won't know but what I'm staying there all night," he reasoned.
+"And they won't start to search for me until some time to-morrow. When I
+don't show up at the game they'll think it's queer, and I suppose
+they'll fine me. I wouldn't mind that if they only come and find me. But
+how can they do it? There isn't a clue they could follow, as far as I
+know. Not one!"
+
+He tried to think of some means by which he could be traced, and rescued
+by his friends, but he could imagine none. No one who knew him had seen
+him come down to the ferry, or walk through the deserted neighborhood.
+And, as far as he knew, no one had seen the bearded stranger accost him.
+
+"I'll just have disappeared--that's all," mused poor Joe, lying on the
+hard and uncomfortable bottom of the boat.
+
+For some time longer the three men, or rather two of them, rowed on,
+paying no attention to Joe. Then Shalleg spoke.
+
+"I guess we're far enough down the river," he said. "We can go ashore
+now."
+
+"And take him with us?" asked Wessel.
+
+"Well, you don't think I'm going to chuck him overboard; do you?"
+demanded Shalleg. "I told you I wasn't going to do anything violent."
+
+"But what are you going to do?"
+
+"Wait, and you'll see," was the rather unsatisfactory answer.
+
+Joe wished it was settled. He, too, was wondering.
+
+The course of the boat seemed changed. By the motion the men were rowing
+across a choppy current, probably toward shore. Joe found this to be so,
+a little later, for the boat's side grated against what was probably a
+wooden pier.
+
+"Light the lantern," directed Shalleg.
+
+"But I thought you didn't want to be seen," objected Wessel.
+
+"Do as I tell you," was the sharp rejoinder. "We're not going to be
+seen. We're going to leave the boat."
+
+"And leave him in it?" asked the other man.
+
+"Yes, I'm going to turn him adrift down the river," went on the chief
+conspirator. "I'll stick a light up, though, so he won't be run down. I
+don't wish him that harm."
+
+"Are you going to leave him tied?" Wessel wanted to know.
+
+"I sure am!" was the rejoinder. "Think I want him giving the alarm, and
+having us nabbed? Not much!"
+
+Dimly, from beneath the handkerchief over his eyes, Joe saw the flash
+as a match was struck, and the lantern lighted. Then he heard it being
+lashed to some upright in the boat. A little later Joe felt the craft in
+which he lay being shoved out into the stream, and then he realized that
+he was alone, drifting down the Delaware, toward the bay, and tied hand
+and foot, as well as being gagged. He was practically helpless.
+
+"There, I guess that'll teach him not to meddle in my affairs any more!"
+said Shalleg bitterly. Then Joe heard no more, save the lapping of the
+waves against the side of the craft.
+
+For a time his senses seemed to leave him under the terrible strain, and
+when he again was in possession of his faculties he could not tell how
+long he had been drifting alone, nor had he any idea of the time, save
+that it was still night.
+
+"Well, I've got to do something!" decided Joe. "I've got to try and get
+rid of this gag, and yell for help, and to do that I've got to have the
+use of my hands."
+
+Then he began to struggle, but the men who had trussed him up had done
+their evil work well, and he only cut his wrists on the cruel bonds. He
+was on his back, and he wished there was some rough projection in the
+bottom of the boat, against which he could rub his rope-entangled
+wrists. But there was none.
+
+How the hours of darkness passed Joe never knew. He was thankful for one
+thing--that there was a light showing in his boat, for he would not be
+run down in the darkness by some steamer, or motor craft. By daylight he
+hoped the drifting boat might be seen, and picked up. Then he would be
+rescued. Even now, if he could only have called, he might have been
+saved.
+
+Gradually Joe became aware that morning had come. He could see a film of
+light beneath the bandage over his eyes. The boat was bobbing up and
+down more violently now.
+
+"I must be far down the bay," thought Joe.
+
+He was cramped, tired, and almost parched for a drink. He had dozed
+fitfully through the night, and his eyes smarted and burned under the
+bandage.
+
+Suddenly he heard voices close at hand, above the puffing of a
+motorboat.
+
+"Look there!" someone exclaimed. "A boat is adrift. Maybe we can work
+that into the film."
+
+"Maybe," assented another voice. "Let's go over and see, anyhow. We want
+this reel to be a good one."
+
+Dimly Joe wondered what the words meant. He heard the voices, and the
+puffing of the motor coming nearer. Then the latter sound ceased. Some
+craft bumped gently against his, and a man cried:
+
+"Someone is in this boat!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII
+
+MOVING PICTURES
+
+
+For a moment silence followed the announcement that meant so much to
+Joe. He could hear murmurs of surprise, and the violent motion of the
+craft in which he lay, bound helpless and unseeing, told him that the
+work of rescue was under way. The motor boat, he reflected, must be
+making fast to the other. The bandage over Joe's eyes prevented him from
+seeing what went on. Then came a series of exclamations and questions,
+and, to Joe's surprise, the voices of women and girls mingled with those
+of men.
+
+"My, look, Jackson!" a man's voice exclaimed. "He's bound, and gagged.
+There's been some crime here!"
+
+"You're right. We must get him aboard our boat."
+
+Joe could tell, by the motion of the boat which contained him, that some
+of the rescue party were getting into it to aid him. Then he felt the
+bandage being taken from his eyes, and the gag from his mouth.
+
+"Hand me a knife, somebody!" called a man. "I'll cut these ropes."
+
+Joe opened his eyes, and closed them again with a feeling of pain. The
+sudden light of a bright, sunny morning was too much for him.
+
+"He's alive, anyhow," a girl's voice said.
+
+Joe half opened his eyes this time, and saw a strange sight. Alongside
+his boat was a cabin motor craft, and on the rear deck he could see
+gathered a number of men, women and girls. What took Joe's attention
+next was a queer oblong box, with a crank at one side, and a tube
+projecting from it, mounted on a tripod. Then, as his eyes became more
+accustomed to the light, Joe saw bending over him in the boat, two men.
+
+One of them had a knife, with which he quickly cut the ropes that bound
+Joe's arms and feet. It was a great relief.
+
+He sat up and looked about him. The motor boat was a large and fine one,
+and was slowly drifting down into Delaware Bay, for Joe could see a vast
+stretch of water on all sides.
+
+"Too bad we can't work this rescue into a scene," spoke one of the men
+on the motor craft.
+
+Joe looked at him wonderingly, and then at the machine on the bow of the
+boat. All at once he realized what it was--a moving picture camera. He
+had seen them before.
+
+"Are you folks in the movies?" he asked as he stood up, with the help of
+the two men.
+
+"That's what we are," was the answer. "We came out early this morning to
+do a bit of 'water stuff,' when we saw your boat adrift. We put over to
+it, and were surprised to see you tied in it. Can you tell us what
+happened?"
+
+"Yes," answered Joe, "I was practically kidnapped!"
+
+"Come aboard, and have some coffee," urged a motherly-looking woman of
+the party.
+
+"Yes, do," added another member of the company. "We have just had
+breakfast."
+
+The aroma of coffee was grateful to Joe, and soon he was aboard the
+motorboat, sipping a steaming cup.
+
+"Kidnapped; eh?" remarked one of the men. "Then we'd better save that
+boat for you. It will be a clue to those who did it."
+
+"Oh, I know who did it, all right," answered Joe, who was rapidly
+feeling more like himself. "I don't need the boat for evidence. But,
+since you have been so kind to me, I wish you'd do one thing more."
+
+"Name it," promptly said the man who seemed to be in charge of the
+company.
+
+"Get me somewhere so I can send word to Philadelphia--to Manager Watson
+of the St. Louis Cardinals. I want to explain what happened, so he won't
+expect me in the game to-day."
+
+"Are you a member of the St. Louis team?" asked one of the men,
+quickly.
+
+"One of the pitchers--my name is Matson."
+
+The two leading men of the company looked at each other in an odd
+manner.
+
+"It couldn't have happened better; could it, Harry?" one asked.
+
+Our hero was a trifle mystified until the man called Harry explained.
+
+"You see, it's this way," he said. "My name is Harry Kirk, and this is
+James Morton," nodding toward the other man. "We manage a moving picture
+company, most of whom you now see," and he indicated those about him.
+"We have been doing a variety of stuff, and we want to get some baseball
+pictures. We've been trying to induce some of the big teams to play an
+exhibition game for us, but so far we haven't been successful. Now if
+you would use your influence with your manager, and he could induce some
+other team to play a short game, why we'd be ever so much obliged."
+
+"Of course I'll do all I can!" cried Joe. "I can't thank you enough for
+your rescue of me, and the least I could do would be to help you out!
+I'm pretty sure I can induce Mr. Watson to let his team give an
+exhibition, anyhow."
+
+"That's all we want--an opening wedge," said Mr. Kirk, "but we couldn't
+seem to get it. Our finding of you was providential."
+
+"It was for me, anyhow," said Joe. "I don't know what might have
+happened to me if I had drifted much farther."
+
+Joe explained how it had happened, and the unreasoning rage of Shalleg
+toward him.
+
+"He ought to be sent to jail for life, to do such a thing as that!"
+burst out Mr. Kirk. "You'll inform the police; won't you?"
+
+"I think I had better," said Joe, thoughtfully.
+
+The motor began its throbbing, and the big boat cut through the water,
+towing the small craft, in which Joe had spent so many uncomfortable
+hours.
+
+The young pitcher was himself again, thanks to a good breakfast, and
+when the dock was reached was able to talk to Manager Watson over the
+telephone. It was then nearly noon, and Joe was in no shape to get in
+the game that day.
+
+To say that the news he gave the manager astonished Mr. Watson is
+putting it mildly.
+
+"You stay where you are," directed his chief. "I'll send someone down to
+see you, or come myself. We'll get after this Shalleg and his gang. This
+has gone far enough!"
+
+"What about the game to-day?" asked Joe.
+
+"Don't you worry about that. We'll beat the Phillies anyhow, though I
+was counting on you, Joe. But don't worry."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX
+
+SHALLEG'S DOWNFALL
+
+
+Plans to capture Shalleg and his cronies were carefully made, but were
+unsuccessful, for, it appeared, the scoundrel and his cronies had fled
+after putting Joe into the boat.
+
+The moving picture people readily agreed to keep silent about the
+affair, and Manager Watson said he would explain Joe's absence from the
+game in a way that would disarm suspicion.
+
+Joe soon recovered from his unpleasant and dangerous experience and,
+true to his promise, used his influence to induce Mr. Watson to play an
+exhibition game for the moving picture people.
+
+"Of course we'll do it!" the manager exclaimed. "That would be small pay
+for what they did for you. I'll see if we can't play the Phillies right
+here. Of course it will have to be arranged with the high moguls, but I
+guess it can be."
+
+And it was. The game was not to count in the series, for some changes
+and new rules had to be adopted to make it possible to get it within the
+scope of the moving picture cameras. And the picture managers agreed to
+pay a sum that made it worth while for the players, Joe included, to put
+up a good game of ball.
+
+To his delight Joe was selected to pitch for his side, and fully himself
+again, he "put up a corking good game," to quote his friend Rad.
+
+"Well, I'm not sorry to be leaving Philadelphia," remarked Joe to Rad,
+when their engagement in the Quaker City was over, and they were to go
+on to Brooklyn. "I always have a feeling that Shalleg will show up
+again."
+
+"I only wish he would!" exclaimed Rad.
+
+"I don't!" said Joe, quickly.
+
+"I mean and be captured," his chum added, quickly.
+
+"Oh, that's different," laughed Joe.
+
+Taking three of the four games from the Superbas, two of them on the
+same day, in a double-header, the St. Louis team added to their own
+prestige, and, incidentally, to their standing in the league, gaining
+fourth place.
+
+"I think we have a good chance of landing third place," the manager
+exulted when they started West. They were to play Chicago in their home
+town, then work their way to New York for a final set-to with the
+Giants, and end the season on Robison Field.
+
+And in St. Louis something happened that, for a long time, took Shalleg
+out of Joe's path.
+
+The first game with Chicago had been a hard one, but by dint of hard
+work, and good pitching (Joe going in at the fourth inning to replace
+Barter), the Cardinals won.
+
+"And we'll do the same to-morrow," good-naturedly boasted Manager
+Watson, to Mr. Mandell of the Cubs.
+
+"Well, maybe you will, but I have a good chance to put it all over you,"
+said the Chicago manager, and there was that in his manner which caused
+Mr. Watson to ask quickly:
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"Just this. How much chance do you think you'd have to win if our men
+knew your battery signals?"
+
+"Not much, of course, but the thing is impossible!"
+
+"Is it?" asked the other, quietly. "Not so impossible as you suppose. I
+have just received an offer to have the signals disclosed to me before
+the game to-morrow."
+
+"By whom?" cried Manager Watson. "If any of my players is trying to
+throw the team----"
+
+"Go easy," advised the other with a smile. "It's nothing like that. The
+offer came from a man, who, I understand, tried unsuccessfully to become
+a member of the Cardinals."
+
+"Not Shalleg!"
+
+"That's who it was."
+
+"Where can I get him?" asked Mr. Watson, eagerly. "He's wanted on a good
+deal more serious charge than that. Where can I get him?"
+
+"I thought you might want to see him," said the Chicago manager, "so I
+put him off. I've made an appointment with him----"
+
+"Which the police and I will keep!" interrupted Mr. Watson.
+
+"Perhaps that would be better," agreed Mr. Mandell.
+
+So the plot for the downfall of Shalleg was laid. It appeared that he
+had come back to St. Louis, and, by dint of careful watching, and by his
+knowledge of the game, he had managed to steal the signal system used
+between the Cardinal pitchers and catchers. This he proposed disclosing
+to the Chicago team, but of course the manager would have nothing to do
+with the scheme.
+
+Shalleg had named a low resort for the transfer of the information he
+possessed, he to receive in exchange a sum of money. He was in desperate
+straits, it appeared.
+
+The Cubs' manager, Joe and Mr. Watson, with a detective, went to the
+appointed meeting place. The manager went in alone, but the others were
+hiding, in readiness to enter at a signal.
+
+"Did you bring the money?" asked Shalleg, eagerly, as he saw the man
+with whom he hoped to make a criminal "deal."
+
+"I have the money, yes," was the cool answer. "Are you prepared to
+disclose to me the Cardinal battery signals?"
+
+"Yes, but don't speak so loud, someone might hear you!" whined Shalleg.
+
+"That's just what I want!" cried the manager in loud tones, and that was
+the signal for the officer to come in. He, Joe and Mr. Watson had heard
+enough to convict Shalleg.
+
+"Ha! A trap!" cried the released player, as he saw them close in on him.
+He made a dash to get away, but, after a brief struggle, the detective
+overpowered him, for Shalleg's manner of life was not such as to make
+him a fighter.
+
+He saw that it was no use to bluff and bluster, and, his nerve
+completely gone, he made a full confession.
+
+After his unsuccessful attempt to borrow money of Joe, he really became
+imbued with the idea that our hero had injured him, and was spreading
+false reports about him. So he set out to revenge himself on Joe.
+
+It was Shalleg who induced Wessel to pick a quarrel with Joe, hoping to
+disable the pitcher so he could not play ball that season. It was a mean
+revenge to plot. And it was Shalleg's idea, in luring Joe to the lonely
+house, on the plea of helping Rad, to involve him in a fight that might
+disable, or disgrace, him so that he would have to resign from the
+Cardinals. Likewise it was a tool of Shalleg's who kept track of Joe,
+who boarded the same car as did our hero, and who so cruelly twisted his
+arm, hoping to put him out of the game.
+
+Shalleg denied having induced Wessel to enter Joe's room that night in
+question, but his denial can be taken for what it was worth. As to
+Weasel's object, it could only be guessed at. It may have been robbery,
+or some worse crime.
+
+And then, when all else failed, Shalleg tried the desperate plan of
+kidnapping Joe, but, as he explained, he did not really intend bodily
+harm. And perhaps he did not. He was a weak and criminally bad man, but
+perhaps there was a limit.
+
+"Well, this is the end!" the former ball player said, bitterly, as he
+was handcuffed, and led away. "I might have known better."
+
+Some time afterward, when the ball season had closed, Shalleg was tried
+on the charge of mistreating Joe, and was convicted, being sentenced to
+a long term. His cronies were not caught, but as they were only tools
+for Shalleg no one cared very much whether or not they were punished.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX
+
+THE HARDEST BATTLE
+
+
+Filled to overflowing were the big bleachers. Crowded were the
+grandstands. Above the noise made by the incoming elevated trains, and
+the tramp of thousands of feet along the boarded run-ways leading to the
+big concrete Brush Stadium at the Polo Grounds, could be heard the
+shrill voices of the vendors of peanuts, bottled ginger ale and ice
+cream cones.
+
+Out on the perfect diamond, laid out as though with rule and compass,
+men in white and other men in darker uniforms were practicing. Balls
+were being caught, other balls were being batted.
+
+It was a sunny, perfect day, hot enough to make fast playing possible,
+and yet with a refreshing breeze.
+
+"Well, Joe, are we going to win?" asked Rad, as he and his chum went to
+the bench after their warm-up work.
+
+"I don't know," answered the young pitcher slowly. "They're a hard team
+to beat."
+
+It was the final game between the Giants and the Cardinals. To win it
+meant for the St. Louis team that they would reach third place. And if
+they did get third position, it was practically certain that they could
+keep it, for their closing games in St. Louis were with the tail-enders
+of the league.
+
+"Are you going to pitch, Joe?"
+
+"I don't know that, either. Haven't heard yet," was the answer.
+
+Just then a messenger came up to Joe.
+
+"There's somebody in that box," he said, indicating one low down, and
+just back of home plate, "who wants to speak to you."
+
+Joe looked around, and a delighted look came over his face as he saw his
+father and mother, Clara, and one other.
+
+"Mabel!" exclaimed Joe, and then he hurried over.
+
+"Say, this is great!" he cried, with sparkling eyes. "I didn't know you
+folks were coming," and he kissed his mother and sister, and wished--but
+there! I said I wouldn't tell secrets.
+
+"Your father found he had some business in New York," explained Mrs.
+Matson, "so we thought we would combine pleasure with it, and see you
+play."
+
+"And they looked me up, and brought me along," added Mabel. "I just
+happened to be in town. Now we want to see you win, Joe!"
+
+"I don't even know that I'll play," he said, wistfully.
+
+Joe felt that he could bide his time, and yet he did long to be the one
+to open the game, as it was an important one, and a record-breaking
+crowd was on hand to see it.
+
+But it was evident that Manager Watson's choice of a pitcher must be
+changed. It needed but two innings to demonstrate that, for the Giants
+got four hits and three runs off Slim Cooney, who, most decidedly, was
+not in form.
+
+The substitution of a batter was made, and the manager nodded at Joe.
+
+"You'll pitch!" he said, grimly. "And I want you to win!"
+
+"And I want to," replied Joe, as he thought of those in the box watching
+him.
+
+It was to be Baseball Joe's hardest battle. Opposed to him on the mound
+for the Giants was a pitcher of world-wide fame, a veteran, well-nigh
+peerless, who had won many a hard-fought game.
+
+I might describe that game to you in detail, but I will confine myself
+to Joe's efforts, since it is in him we are most interested. I might
+tell of the desperate chances the Cardinals took to gain runs, and of
+the exceptionally good stick work they did, against the redoubtable
+pitcher of the Giants.
+
+For a time this pitcher held his opponents to scattering hits. Then, for
+a fatal moment, he went up in the air. It was a break that was at once
+taken advantage of by the Cardinals. They slammed out two terrific hits,
+and, as there were men on bases, the most was made of them. Two wild
+throws, something exceptional for the Giants, added to the luck, and
+when the excitement was over the Cardinals had tied the game.
+
+"Oh, wow!"
+
+"Now, we've got 'em going!"
+
+"Only one run to win, boys!"
+
+"Hold 'em down, Joe!"
+
+Thus came the wild cries from the stands. Excitement was at its height.
+
+There was a hasty consultation between the peerless pitcher and the
+veteran catcher. They had gone up in the air, but now they were down to
+earth again. From then on, until the beginning of the ninth inning, the
+Cardinals did not cross home plate, and they got very few hits. It was a
+marvelous exhibition of ball twirling.
+
+But if the Giant pitcher did well, Joe did even better, when you
+consider that he was only rounding out his first season in a big league,
+and that he was up against a veteran of national fame, the announcement
+that he was going to be in the game being sufficient to attract a large
+throng.
+
+"Good work, old man! Good work!" called Boswell, when Joe came to the
+bench one inning, after having allowed but one hit. "Can you keep it
+up?"
+
+"I--I hope so."
+
+It was a great battle--a hard battle. The Giants worked every trick they
+knew to gain another run, but the score remained a tie. Goose egg after
+goose egg went up on the score board. The ninth inning had started with
+the teams still even.
+
+"We've just _got_ to get that run!" declared Manager Watson. "We've just
+_got_ to get it. Joe, you are to bat first. See if you can't get a hit!"
+
+Pitchers are proverbially weak hitters. One ingenious theory for it is
+that they are so used to seeing the ball shooting away from them, and
+toward the batter, that, when the positions are reversed, and they see
+the ball coming toward them they get nervous.
+
+"Ball!" was the umpire's first decision in Joe's favor. The young
+pitcher was rather surprised, for he knew the prowess of his opponent.
+
+And then Joe decided on what might have proved to be a foolish thing.
+
+"I'm going to think that the next one will be a swift, straight one, and
+I'm going to dig in my spikes and set for it," he decided. And he did.
+He made a beautiful hit, and amid the wild yells of the crowd he
+started for first. He beat the ball by a narrow margin, and was declared
+safe.
+
+A pinch hitter was up next, and amid a breathless silence he was
+watched. But the peerless pitcher was taking no chances, and walked him,
+thinking to get Joe later.
+
+But he did not. For, as luck would have it, Rad Chase made the hit of
+his life, a three-bagger, and with the crowd going wild, two runs came
+in, giving the Cardinals the game, if they could hold the Giants down.
+
+And it was up to Joe to do this. Could he?
+
+As Joe walked to the mound, for that last momentous inning, he glanced
+toward the box where his parents, sister and Mabel sat. A little hand
+was waved to him, and Joe waved back. Then he faced his first man.
+
+"Thud!" went the ball in Doc Mullin's big mitt.
+
+"Ball!" droned the umpire.
+
+"Thud!" went another. The batter stood motionless.
+
+"Strike!"
+
+The batter indignantly tapped the rubber.
+
+"Crack!"
+
+"You can't get it!" yelled the crowd, as the ball shot up in a foul.
+
+The umpire tossed a new ball to Joe, for the other had gone too far
+away to get back speedily.
+
+Joe wet the horsehide, and sent it drilling in. The batter made a slight
+motion, as though to hit it, but refrained:
+
+"Strike! You're out!" said the umpire, stolidly.
+
+"Why, that ball was----"
+
+"You're out!" and the umpire waved him aside, impatiently.
+
+Joe grinned in delight.
+
+But when he saw the next man, "Home Run Crater," facing him, our hero
+felt a little shaky. True, the chances were in favor of the Cardinals,
+but baseball is full of chances that make or break.
+
+"If he wallops it!" thought Joe.
+
+But Crater did not wallop it. In his characteristic manner he swung at
+the first delivery, and connected with it. Over Joe's head it was going,
+but with a mighty jump Joe corraled it in one hand, a sensational catch
+that set the crowd wild. Joe was playing the game of his life.
+
+"Only one more!"
+
+"Strike him out!"
+
+"The game is ours, Joe!"
+
+But another heavy hitter was up, and there was still work for Baseball
+Joe to do.
+
+To his alarm, as he sent in his first ball, there came to his arm that
+had been twisted on the car, a twinge of pain.
+
+"My! I hope that doesn't bother me," thought Joe, in anxiety.
+
+"Ball one," announced the umpire.
+
+Joe delivered a straight, swift one. His arm hurt worse, and he gritted
+his teeth to keep from crying out.
+
+"Strike!" grunted the umpire, and there was some balm for Joe in that.
+
+The batter hit the next one for a dribbler, and just managed to reach
+first.
+
+"If I could only have managed to get him out!" mused Joe. "I'd be done
+now. But I've got to do it over again. I wonder if I can last out?"
+
+To his relief the next batter up was one of the weakest of the Giants,
+and Joe was glad. And even yet a weak batter might make a hit that would
+turn the tables.
+
+"I've got to do it!" murmured Joe, and he wound up for the delivery.
+
+"Strike!" announced the umpire. Joe's heart beat hard.
+
+"Here goes for the fadeaway," he said to himself, "though it will hurt
+like fun!"
+
+It did, bringing a remembrance of the old hurt. But it fooled the
+batter, and there were two strikes on him.
+
+The game was all but over. With two out, and two strikes called, there
+could be but one result, unless there was to be something that occurs
+but once in a lifetime. And it did not occur.
+
+"Strike! You're out!" was the umpire's decision, and that was the end.
+The Cardinals had won, thanks, in a great measure, to Joe Matson's
+splendid work.
+
+"That's the stuff!"
+
+"Third place for ours!"
+
+"Three cheers for Joe Matson--Baseball Joe!" called his teammates, who
+crowded around him to clap him on the back and say all sorts of nice
+things. Joe stood it, blushingly, for a moment, and then he made his way
+over to the box. As he walked along, a certain quiet man who had been
+intently watching the game said softly to himself.
+
+"He must be mine next season. I guess I can make a trade for him. He'd
+be a big drawing card for the Giants."
+
+"Oh, Joe, it was splendid! Splendid!" cried Mabel, enthusiastically.
+
+"Fine!" said his father.
+
+"Do you get any extra when your side wins?" asked his mother, while the
+crowd smiled.
+
+"Well, yes, in a way," answered Joe. "You get treated extra well."
+
+"And it's going to be my treat this time," said Mabel, with a laugh. "I
+want you all to come to dinner with me. You'll come; won't you, Joe?"
+she asked, pleadingly.
+
+"Of course," he said.
+
+"And bring a friend, if you like," and she glanced at Clara.
+
+"I'll bring Rad," Joe answered.
+
+They lived the great game over again at the table of the hotel where
+Mable was stopping.
+
+"Is your arm lame?" asked Mrs. Matson, noticing that her son favored his
+pitching member a trifle.
+
+"Oh, I can finish out the season," said Joe. "The remainder will be
+easy--only a few more games."
+
+"And then what?" asked Rad.
+
+"Well, a vacation, I suppose, and then get ready for another season with
+the Cardinals."
+
+But Joe was not destined to remain with the Western team. The horizon
+was widening, and those of you who wish to follow further the adventures
+of our hero may do so in the succeeding volume, which will be called
+"Baseball Joe on the Giants; Or, Making Good as a Ball Twirler in the
+Metropolis."
+
+In that we shall see how Joe rose to even higher fame, through grit,
+hard work and ability.
+
+"Well, you turned the trick, old man!" declared Manager Watson, when, a
+few days later, the team was on the way back to St. Louis. "You did it.
+I felt sure you could."
+
+"Well, _I_ didn't, at one time," was the rejoinder. "My arm started to
+go back on me."
+
+"Well, there's one consolation, Shalleg and his crowd will never get
+another chance at you," went on the manager. "Now take care of yourself.
+I'm only going to let you play one game--the closing one at St. Louis.
+We won't need our stars against the tail-enders."
+
+And the Cardinals did not, winning handily with a number of second
+string men playing.
+
+"Where are you going, Joe?" asked Rad, as they sat in their hotel room
+one evening, for Joe was "dolling up."
+
+"Out to a moving picture show."
+
+"Moving pictures?"
+
+"Yes. That film of the exhibition game we played in Philadelphia is
+being shown in town. Come on up."
+
+"Sure," assented Rad; and as they went out together we will take leave
+of Baseball Joe.
+
+
+THE END
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+BOOKS BY LESTER CHADWICK
+
+
+THE COLLEGE SPORTS SERIES 12mo. Cloth. Illustrated
+
+    THE RIVAL PITCHERS
+        A Story of College Baseball
+
+    A QUARTER-BACK'S PLUCK
+        A Story of College Football
+
+    BATTING TO WIN
+        A Story of College Baseball
+
+    THE WINNING TOUCHDOWN
+        A Story of College Football
+
+    THE EIGHT-OARED VICTORS
+        A Story of College Water Sports
+
+
+THE BASEBALL JOE SERIES
+
+    _12mo. Illustrated. Price 50 cents per volume.
+    Postage 10 cents additional._
+
+    [Illustration: BASEBALL JOE PITCHING WIZARD
+                   LESTER CHADWICK]
+
+     1. BASEBALL JOE OF THE SILVER STARS
+        _or The Rivals of Riverside_
+
+     2. BASEBALL JOE ON THE SCHOOL NINE
+        _or Pitching for the Blue Banner_
+
+     3. BASEBALL JOE AT YALE
+        _or Pitching for the College Championship_
+
+     4. BASEBALL JOE IN THE CENTRAL LEAGUE
+        _or Making Good as a Professional Pitcher_
+
+     5. BASEBALL JOE IN THE BIG LEAGUE
+        _or A Young Pitcher's Hardest Struggles_
+
+     6. BASEBALL JOE ON THE GIANTS
+        _or Making Good as a Twirler in the Metropolis_
+
+     7. BASEBALL JOE IN THE WORLD SERIES
+        _or Pitching for the Championship_
+
+     8. BASEBALL JOE AROUND THE WORLD
+        _or Pitching on a Grand Tour_
+
+     9. BASEBALL JOE: HOME RUN KING
+        _or The Greatest Pitcher and Batter on Record_
+
+    10. BASEBALL JOE SAVING THE LEAGUE
+        _or Breaking Up a Great Conspiracy_
+
+    11. BASEBALL JOE CAPTAIN OF THE TEAM
+        _or Bitter Struggles on the Diamond_
+
+    12. BASEBALL JOE CHAMPION OF THE LEAGUE
+        _or The Record that was Worth While_
+
+    13. BASEBALL JOE CLUB OWNER
+        _or Putting the Home Town on the Map_
+
+    14. BASEBALL JOE PITCHING WIZARD
+        _or Triumphs Off and On the Diamond_
+
+    _Send for Our Free Illustrated Catalogue._
+
+
+
+
+CHAMPION SPORTS STORIES
+
+By NOEL SAINSBURY, JR.
+
+
+_Every boy enjoys sport stories. Here we present three crackerjack
+stories of baseball, football, and basketball, written in the vernacular
+of the boy of to-day, full of action, suspense and thrills, in language
+every boy will understand, and which we know will be enthusiastically
+endorsed by all boys._
+
+    _Large 12mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Jacket in color.
+    Price 50 cents per volume._
+
+    _Postage 10 cents additional_
+
+
+[Illustration: CRACKER STANTON]
+
+1. CRACKER STANTON _Or The Making of a Batsman_
+
+Ralph Stanton, big, rawboned and serious, is a product of the backwoods
+and a crack rifle shot. Quick thinking and pluck bring him a scholarship
+to Clarkville School where he is branded "grind" and "dub" by
+classmates. How his batting brings them first place in the League and
+how he secures his appointment to West Point make CRACKER STANTON an
+up-to-the-minute baseball story no lover of the game will want to put
+down until the last word is read.
+
+
+2. GRIDIRON GRIT _Or The Making of a Fullback_
+
+A corking story of football packed full of exciting action and good,
+clean competitive rivalry. Shorty Fiske is six-foot-four and the product
+of too much money and indulgence at home. How Clarkville School and
+football develop Shorty's real character and how he eventually stars on
+the gridiron brings this thrilling tale of school life and football to a
+grandstand finish.
+
+
+3. THE FIGHTING FIVE _Or the Kidnapping of Clarkville's Basketball Team_
+
+Clarkville School's basketball team is kidnapped during the game for the
+State Scholastic Championship. The team's subsequent adventures under
+the leadership of Captain Charlie Minor as he brings them back to the
+State College Gymnasium where the two last quarters of the Championship
+game are played next evening, climaxes twenty-four pulsating hours of
+adventure and basketball in the FIGHTING FIVE....
+
+
+    CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY, Publishers    New York
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's Baseball Joe in the Big League, by Lester Chadwick
+
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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
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author	Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org>	2025-10-15 02:35:27 -0700
committer	Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org>	2025-10-15 02:35:27 -0700
commit	130e1fbb16b8f18d99d8d9b4b4dcf9354c02af8a (patch)
tree	f8e15d286ea2f4b746a5295d70ec41188b726634