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."