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."