“I didn’t want to bother you?”
“Aw, get out. I’d be glad to do it. Next time you want to try it tip me off and we’ll go some place where Sam can’t bother us. He’s a mean chap sometimes. I don’t like him, but some of the fellows think he’s all there. He sure can pitch, and I guess that’s why we keep him. But come on, let’s go to practice. There may be a scrub game and you can get in on it.”
Joe and Tom found quite a crowd assembled on the Riverside diamond when they arrived. The nine and the substitutes were in uniforms, and Darrell Blackney and George Rankin were talking to the team, giving them some points about the coming game with the Red Stockings.
“I guess we’ve got enough for a scrub game,” announced the captain, as Joe and Tom strolled up. “Tom, you play first on the scrub. And let’s see—what’s your name?” and he turned to Joe, who introduced himself.
“He’s a friend of mine,” added Tom, “so treat him right.”
“Good!” exclaimed the captain. “Well, he can play on the scrub if he wants to. Out in the field,” he added.
“Oh, yes, that’s Matson, whom I was telling you about,” put in the manager, and then he added something in a low voice which Joe could not catch.
“Play ball!” called the umpire, and the impromptu contest was underway. Joe narrowly watched Sam’s pitching and even though he regarded the lad as unfriendly to him, our hero could not but admit that his rival in the box was doing good work.
“But I think I can equal him if I have a chance,” thought Joe, and he was not given to idle boasting, either. “Oh, if I only get the chance!” he exclaimed in a whisper.
Then a high fly came his way and he had to get down to business and stop his day-dreaming. He ran back to get under the ball, and made a pretty one-handed catch. There was some applause from the little group of spectators.