the gloves of the players. The
training work was under way.

"What sort of ball do you pitch?" asked the old player pleasantly of
Joe, as they moved off to a space by themselves for practice.

"Well, I've got an in, an out, a fadeaway and a spitter."

"Quite a collection. How about a cross-fire?"

"I can work it a little."

"That's good. Now let's see what you can do. But take it easy at first.
You don't want to throw out any of your elbow tendons so early in the
season."

"I guess not," laughed Joe.

Then he began to throw, bearing in mind the advice of the veteran
assistant manager. The work was slow at first, and Joe found himself
much stiffer than he expected. But the warm air, and the swinging of his
arm, limbered him up a bit, and soon he was sending in some swift ones.

"Go slow, son," warned Boswell. "You're not trying to win a game, you
know. You're getting a little wild."

Joe felt a bit chagrined, but he knew it was for his own good that the
advice was given.

Besides the pitching and batting practice, there was some running around
the bases. But Manager Watson knew better than to keep the boys at it
too long, and soon called the work off for the day.

"We'll give it a little harder whack to-morrow," he said. And then Joe,
as he went to the dressing rooms, overheard the manager ask Boswell:

"What do you think of Matson?"

"Oh, he's not such a wonder," was the not very encouraging reply. "But
I've seen lots worse. He'll do to keep on your string, but he's got a
lot to learn. It's a question of what he'll do when he faces the big
teams, and hears the crowd yelling: 'He's rotten! Take him out!' That's
what's going to tell."

"Yes, I suppose so. But I heard good reports of him--that gameness was
one of his qualities."

"Well, he'll need it all right," declared the veteran player.

Then Joe passed on, not wanting to listen to any more. Truth to tell, he
rather wished he had not heard that much. His pride was a little hurt.
To give him credit, Joe had nothing like a "swelled head." He knew he
had done good work in the Central League, and there, perhaps, he had
been made more of than was actually good for him. Here he was to find
that, relatively, he counted for little.

A big team must have a number of pitchers, and not all of them can be
"first string" men. Some must be kept to work against weak teams, to
spare the stars for tight places. Joe realized this.

"But if hard work will get me a