ve you much choice; do they?" spoke Reggie, when Joe told
him this news. "You've got to do just as they tell you; haven't you?"

"In a measure, yes," assented Joe. "Baseball is big business. Why, I
read an article the other day that stated how over fifty million persons
pay fifteen million dollars every year just to see the games, and the
value of the different clubs, grounds and so on mounts up to many
millions more."

"It sure is big business," agreed Reggie. "I might go into it myself."

"Well, more than one fortune has been made at it," observed Joe.

"But I don't like the idea of the club owners and managers doing as they
please with the players. It seems to take away your freedom," argued the
other lad.

"Well, in a sense I suppose it does," admitted Joe. "And yet the
interests of the players are always being looked after. We don't have to
be baseball players unless we want to; but, once we sign a contract, we
have to abide by it.

"Then, too, the present organization has brought to the players bigger
salaries than they ever got before. Of course we chaps in the minor
leagues aren't bid for, as are those in the big leagues. But we always
hope to be."

"It seems funny, for one manager to buy a player from another manager,"
went on Reggie.

"I suppose so, but I've grown sort of used to it," Joe replied. "Of
course the players themselves don't benefit by the big sum one manager
may give another for the services of a star fielder or pitcher, but it
all helps our reputations."

"Is the St. Louis team considered pretty good?" Reggie wanted to know.

"Well, it could be better," confessed Joe, slowly. "They reached one
place from the top of the second division last season, but if I play
with them I'll try to pull them to the top of the second half, anyhow,"
he added, with a laugh. "The Cardinals never have been considered so
very good, but the club is a money-maker, and we can't all be pennant
winners," he admitted, frankly.

"No, I suppose not," agreed Reggie. "Well, I wish you luck, whatever you
do this Summer. If I ever get out to St. Louis I'll stop off and see you
play."

"Do," urged Joe. He hoped Mabel would come also.

When Joe reached home that afternoon his mother met him in the living
room, and said quickly:

"Someone is waiting for you in the parlor, Joe."

"Gracious! I hope it isn't Shalleg!" thought the young pitcher. "If he
has come here to make trouble----" And his heart sank.

But as h