“And mind you, if my arm is stiff, and I can’t pitch Saturday it will be your fault, and I’ll tell the fellows so,” called Sam as he leaned over to pick up his wheel.
“All right, only you know it isn’t so,” replied Joe quietly.
As he pedaled on he looked back and saw Sam straightening some of the bent spokes. The pitcher scowled at him.
“Hum,” mused Joe as he speeded up. “Not a very good beginning for getting on the nine—a run-in with the pitcher. Well, I guess I wouldn’t be in it anyhow. I guess they think I’m not in their class. But I will be—some day!” and with a grim tightening of his lips Joe Matson rode on.
CHAPTER V
JOE HELPS THE MANAGER
“Well now, I’m real sorry,” said Mrs. Holdney when, a little later, Joe dismounted at her door, and held out the letter for her husband. “Rufus isn’t home. You can leave the letter for him, though.”
“No, I have to have an answer,” replied Joe. “I think perhaps I’d better wait.”