“That might be it,” said Joe. “Some fellows get tired of doing the same thing, and when they have a chance to leave home and see strange places, they grab it.”
While warming up prior to this last game, Joe’s attention was attracted by a muscular Chinaman, who was standing in the crowd that fringed the diamond, interestedly watching the players at practice. He recognized him as a famous wrestler who had taken part in a bout at a performance the night before and who had thrown his opponents with ease.
“Some muscles on that fellow,” Joe remarked to Jim.
“Biggest Chink I ever saw,” replied Jim, “and not a bit of it is fat either. He’d make a dandy highbinder. You saw what he did to the Terrible Turk in that match last night. He just played with him. And the Turk was no slouch either.”
“Look at those arms,” joined in Larry, gazing with admiration at the swelling biceps of the wrestler. “What a slugger he’d make if he knew 188 how to play ball. He’d break all the fences in the league.”
“He sure would kill the ball if he ever caught it on the end of his bat,” declared Red Curry.
“I’ve half a mind to give him a chance,” laughed Joe.
“Go ahead,” grinned Larry. “I’d like to see him break his back reaching for one of your curves.”
“He might land on it at that,” replied Joe. “A wrestler has to have an eye like a hawk.”
He beckoned to the wrestler, who came toward him at once with a smile on his keen but good-natured face.