“We’re going to win!” cried the young pitcher. “I feel it in my bones! Don’t worry, Mother.”
But, naturally, Mrs. Matson could not help it, in spite of Joe’s brave words. Clara, though, was cheered up.
“There’s more to baseball than I thought,” she said.
“There’s more in it than I’ll ever learn,” admitted Joe, frankly. “Of course our pennant-deciding games aren’t like the world series, but I understand they bring in a lot of money.”
Mr. Matson was quite improved the next day, but Dr. Birch, and another physician, who was called in consultation, could not settle the matter about the eyes.
“It will be fully a month before we can decide about the operation,” said the expert. “In the meanwhile he is in no danger, and the delay will give him a chance to get back his strength. We shall have to wait.”
As nothing could be gained by Joe’s staying home, and as his baseball money was very much needed at this trying time, it was decided that he had better rejoin his team.
He bade his parents and sister good-bye, and arranged to have word sent to him every day as to his father’s condition.
“And don’t you worry about that money, Mother,” he said as he kissed her. “I’ll be here with it when it’s needed.”
“Oh, Joe!” was all she said, but she looked happier.