“That’s what I like to hear!”
Dr. Birch did not permit his patient to talk long, and soon Joe had to leave the room. The physician said later that he thought there was a slight improvement in Mr. Matson’s condition, though of course the matter of saving his eyesight could not yet be decided.
“But if we do have to have an operation,” said Mrs. Matson. “I don’t see where the money is coming from. Your father’s investments are turning out so badly——”
“Don’t worry about that, Mother,” broke in Joe.
“But I have to, Joe. If an operation is needed we’ll have to get the money. And from where is more than I know,” she added, hopelessly.
“I’ll get the money!” exclaimed the young pitcher in energetic tones.
“How?” asked his mother. “I’m sure you can’t make enough at ball playing.”
“No, perhaps not at ordinary ball playing, Mother, but at the end of the season, when the deciding games for the pennant are played off, they always draw big crowds, and the players on the winning team come in for a good share of the receipts. I’ll use mine for the operation.”
“But your team may not win the pennant, Joe,” said Clara.