CHAPTER I
A PROMISING START
“Great Scott, Joe, what are you trying to do?” demanded Jim Barclay, as he threw back the ball he had just caught and wrung the hand that had got the brunt of the impact. “Trying to murder me, or just cripple me for life?”
Joe Matson, “Baseball Joe,” as he was known to idolizing fans all over the country, looked at his comrade with a grin.
“Was it as hot as all that?” he asked.
“Hot!” exclaimed Jim. “I should say it was! It was fairly smoking as it came in. Have a heart. Save those whizzers for the Pirates and the Cubs when the season opens.”
“I’ll ease up a little,” promised Joe. “I didn’t realize that I was putting so much tabasco into the pitching. But the old soup bone feels so good that it’s a big temptation to let it out for all it’s worth.”
“You’re ready for the gong right now,” declared Jim. “You’ve rounded into form sooner than any other member of the team.”
“If I felt any better I’d be afraid of myself,” said Joe, with a smile. “I’m mighty glad of it, for I’ve mapped out a program this year that will keep me hustling to make good on it.”
“Seems to me if you just keep up to the standard of last year, you’ll be all to the merry,” said Jim. “A pitching percentage of over .900 and a batting average that tops the .400 mark. Isn’t it enough to lead the league in both departments? Aren’t you ever going to be satisfied?”