“I don’t believe I’ll have much to learn,” answered Joe with a smile. “I think Pop can come back.”
“The players who can do that are as scarce as hens’ teeth,” was the rejoinder of the manager. “But I’ll take this last chance. Of course he can’t begin to play right off the bat. He’s got to get in training. By the way, I suppose he has his release?” The manager looked questioningly at Joe.
“Oh, yes. He’s free and clear to make any contract he likes. He told me that.”
“I imagined so. No one wants him. I’m afraid I’m foolish for taking him on, but I’ll do it to please you. I’ll take his option, and pay him a small sum.”
“Then I’ll do the rest,” returned Joe, eagerly. “I’m going to have his arm looked at, and then couldn’t you get him a place where he could do out-door work—say help keep our grounds in shape?”
“Well, I’ll think about it, Joe. But about yourself? Are you ready to sail in again?”
“I sure am. What are the prospects?”
“Well, they might be better. Collin isn’t doing any too well. I’m thinking of buying another pitcher to use when there’s not much at stake. Gus Harrison is laid up—sprained his knee a little making a mean slide. I’ve got to do some shifting, and I need every game I can get from now on. But I guess we’ll come out somehow.”
But the team did not come out “somehow.” It came out “nohow,” for it lost its first game with Delamont the next day, and this, coupled with the winning of a double-header by Clevefield, put that team in the lead and sent Pittston to second place.
Joe worked hard, so hard that he began to go to pieces in the seventh inning, and had to be replaced by Tooley, who came into the breach wonderfully well, and, while he did not save the day, he prevented a disgraceful beating. Joe was in the dumps after this despite the cheerful, optimistic attitude of the manager.