nywhere I'm going to arrive!" he said to
himself, grimly, as the crowd of players went back to the hotel.

The days that followed were given up to hard and constant practice. Each
day brought a little more hard work, for the time was approaching when
practice games must be played with the local teams, and it was necessary
that the Cardinals make a good showing.

Life in the training camp of a major league team was different than Joe
had found it with the Pittstons. There was a more business-like tone to
it, and more snap.

The newspaper men found plenty of copy at first, in chronicling the
doings of the big fellows, telling how this one was working up his
pitching speed, or how that one was improving his batting. Then, too,
the funny little incidents and happenings about the diamond and hotel
were made as much of as possible.

The various reporters had their own papers sent on to them, and soon, in
some of these, notably the St. Louis publications, Joe began to find
himself mentioned occasionally. These clippings he sent home to the
folks. He wanted to send some to Mabel, but he was afraid she might
think he was attaching too much importance to himself, so he refrained.

Some of the reporters did not speak very highly of Joe's abilities, and
others complimented him slightly. All of them intimated that some day he
might amount to something, and then, again, he might not. Occasionally
he was spoken of as a "promising youngster."

It was rather faint praise, but it was better than none. And Joe
steeled himself to go on in his own way, taking the well-intentioned
advice of the other baseball players, Boswell in particular.

Joe had other things besides hard work to contend against. This was the
petty jealousy that always crops up in a high-tensioned ball team. There
were three other chief pitchers on the nine, Toe Barter, Sam Willard and
Slim Cooney. Slim and Toe were veterans, and the mainstays of the team,
and Sam Willard was one of those chaps so often seen in baseball, a
brilliant but erratic performer.

Sometimes he would do excellently, and again he would "fall down"
lamentably. And, for some reason, Sam became jealous of Joe. Perhaps he
would have been jealous of any young pitcher who he thought might, in
time, displace him. But he seemed to be particularly vindictive against
Joe. It started one day in a little practice game, when Sam, after some
particularly wild work, was replaced by our hero.

"Huh! Now