't mean it!" cried his sister. "You're going to belong to a
major league team!" for Clara was almost as ardent a baseball "fan" as
was her brother.

"Well, it looks like it, Sis," replied Joe, slowly, as he glanced at the
letter again. "Of course it isn't settled, but Mr. Gregory says I'm
pretty sure to be drafted to St. Louis."

"Drafted!" exclaimed his mother. "That sounds like war times, when they
used to draft men to go to the front. Do you mean you haven't any choice
in the matter, Joe?"

"Well, that's about it, Momsey," the young man explained. "You see,
baseball is pretty well organized. It has to be, to make it the success
it is," he added frankly, "though lots of people are opposed to the
system. But I haven't been in it long enough to find fault, even if I
wanted to--which I don't."

"But it seems queer that you can't stay with the Pittston team if you
want to," said Mrs. Matson.

"I don't know as I want to," spoke Joe, slowly, "especially when I'll
surely get more money with St. Louis, besides having the honor of
pitching for a major league team, even if it isn't one of the
top-notchers, and a pennant winner. So if they want to draft me, let
them do their worst!" and he laughed, showing his even, white teeth.

"You see," he resumed, "when I signed a contract with the Pittstons, of
the Central League, I gave them the right to control my services as long
as I played baseball. I had to agree not to go to any other team
without permission, and, in fact, no other organized team would take me
unless the Pittston management released me. I went into it with my eyes
open.

"And, you see, the Pittston team, being one of the small ones, has to
give way to a major league team. That is, any major league team, like
the St. Louis Nationals, can call for, or draft, any player in a smaller
team. So if they call me I'll have to go. And I'll be glad to. I'll get
more money and fame.

"That is, I hope I will," and Joe spoke more soberly. "I know I'm not
going to have any snap of it. It's going to be hard work from the word
go, for there will be other pitchers on the St. Louis team, and I'll
have to do my best to make a showing against them.

"And I will, too!" cried Joe, resolutely. "I'll make good, Momsey!"

"I hope so, my son," she responded, quietly. "You know I was not much in
favor of your taking up baseball for a living, but I must say you have
done well at it, and after all, if one does one's best at anything,