“I don’t know how long I can last,” he said to Darrell, “and maybe I’ll be batted out of the box.”
“It’s too bad, of course,” replied the manager, when the accident had been explained to him, “but we won’t work you very hard. I want you to get your chance, though.”
And Joe felt his heart beat faster as he thought how nearly he had lost his chance. Yet he could not have done otherwise, he reflected.
“I don’t see what’s keeping Sam Morton,” mused Captain Rankin, as the team prepared to take the special trolley car. “He met me a little while ago and said he’d be on hand.”
“It’s early yet,” commented the manager. “I guess he’ll be on hand. I told him Joe was going to pitch a few innings.”
“What did he say?”
“Well, he didn’t cut up nearly as much as I thought he would. He said it was only fair to give him a show, but I know Sam is jealous and he won’t take any chances on not being there.”
All of the players, save the regular pitcher, were on hand now and they were anxiously waiting for Sam. One of the inspectors of the trolley line came up to where the boys stood about the special car that was on a siding.
“Say,” began the inspector, “I’ll have to send you boys on your way now.”