with poor Jim's heart.

By the time the orchestra had finished the tune, the panic had about
subsided. But Joe was taking no chances and he motioned for a repetition.
The leader obeyed, and at the end of this second playing the danger was
entirely over. The audience was seated, with the exception of the man whom
Joe had knocked down, who slunk shame-facedly out of the hall holding his
hand on the place where the blow had landed.

And now that the peril had passed, it was Joe who was panic-stricken.
Though brave as a lion and quick as a panther in an emergency, he was the
most modest of men and hated to pose as a hero. He was wondering what he
should say or do, when Altman solved the problem by coming up to him with
both hands extended. That gave the audience its cue, and in a moment a
tempest of cheers swept the hall.

"What's the matter with Matson?" someone shouted in a stentorian voice.

"He's all right!" came back in a roar.

"Who's all right?"

"Matson! Joe Matson! Baseball Joe!"

Men crowded forward, and in a moment Joe was surrounded by his friends and
fellow townsmen, most of whom had known him when he was in knickerbockers
and now were more proud of him than they had ever been, even when he
returned to Riverside crowned with the laurels of his last great season.
Joe was mauled and pounded until he was almost out of breath, and it was a
relief when at last he had made his way back to his mother and sister.

They were both crying openly with joy and pride, and the looks they turned
on Joe were a greater reward than all the plaudits of his friends.

There was no going on with the performance after that. The nerves of the
audience were too highly keyed by the great peril that had been escaped.
And they had a more dramatic scene to remember and talk about than
anything that could be given them from the stage.

In the excitement, a great many of those present had lost track of the
friends or relatives that had been with them, and from all sides came
various calls.

"Where is Frank?"

"Did you see what became of my sister Bessie?"

"Oh, Bill! I say, Bill! Where are you?"

Many of the scenes were most affecting. Women would rush into each other's
arms, crying with joy to find that the lost ones were safe.

"I can tell you it's a grand good thing that panic was stopped so
quickly," remarked one man to another, as he gazed admiringly at the hero
of the occasion.

As Joe and his folks were leaving, a ta