It was the work of only a moment to throw off their coats and don sweaters. Then they picked a ball from their collection and adjourned to the large open space back of the hotel that gave them abundant room for practice.
Their temporary home was in a rapidly growing section, and all about them were buildings in various stages of construction. One of these was on the adjoining plot of ground. The work on this building had been temporarily stopped because of some business trouble of the builder, but there were large piles of building material heaped on the second floor and on the scaffolding that ran along the side of the building.
For some time Joe and Jim pitched back and forth to each other, starting slowly, but gradually working out their arms until they were going under a full head of steam.
Jim uncorked a wild one that Joe leaped for but was unable to reach. The ball was going with such momentum that it rolled a considerable distance before Joe finally retrieved it.
“What do you think I am, an outfielder?” queried Joe, in mock reproach.
“Too bad, old man,” laughed Jim. “But I’ve got it out of my system now and I won’t do it again.”
“That’s what they all say,” remarked Joe, with a grin. “But ‘once bitten, twice shy,’ and I guess I’ll hunt up a backstop.”
He looked around and found what he wanted in the side of the house that was being built next door.
“Now you can be as wild as a hawk if you want to,” he laughed. “This house must be of pretty punk material if it lets the ball go through it.”