"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.