oing up, do you think?" asked the Giant manager, anxiously.

"Looks something like it," replied Robbie, "but he'll probably brace. You
see Denton's talking to him now, to give him a chance to rest up a
little."

The third baseman had strolled over to Hamilton on pretense of discussing
some point of play, but the crowd saw through the subterfuge, and shouts
of protest went up:

"Hire a hall!"

"Write him a letter!"

"Play ball!"

Not a bit flustered by the shouts, Denton took his time, and after
encouraging his team mate sauntered slowly back to his position.

But Hamilton's good right arm had lost its cunning. His first ball was
wild, and the batter, seeing this, waited him out and was given a pass.
His comrades moved up and the bags were full, with none out and the
heaviest sluggers of the team coming to the bat.

McRae and Brennan had been holding an earnest conference, and now on a
signal from them Hamilton came in from the box.

"It's no use," said McRae to Brennan, while the crowd howled in derision.
"We'll have to play our trump and put Matson in to hold them down."

"But he hasn't warmed up," said Brennan dubiously.

"That makes no difference," replied McRae. "I'd rather put him in cold
than anyone else warm."

"All right; do as you please," responded the other manager.

McRae called over to where Joe was sitting. The crack pitcher had been
watching the progress of the game with keen interest, although making
comparatively few comments. As McRae approached Joe, the crowd howled
louder than ever at Hamilton.

"Why don't you learn how to pitch?"

"Say, let us send one of the high-school boys into the box for you!"

"Too bad, old man, but I guess we've got your goat all right!"

"I guess you know what I want, Joe," cried McRae. "I want you to get in
the box for us."

"All right, Mac," was the young pitcher's answer.

"And, Joe," went on the other earnestly, "try to think for the next five
minutes that you're pitching for the pennant."

"I'll do anything you say," was Joe's reply; and then he drew on his glove
and walked out upon the ball field.

"Hello! what do you know about that?"

"Matson is going to pitch for them!"

"I guess they've enough of that other dub!"

"Oh, Hamilton isn't a dub, by any means," replied one of the spectators
sharply. "He's a good player, but a pitcher can't always be at his best."

"But just you wait and see how we do up Matson!" cried a local
sympathizer.