Baseball Joe In The Big League Part 13

"Not half as much as _I_ have," murmured Joe.

Reggie came in a little later, and congratulated the young player, and then Charlie Hall added his good wishes. It was his last day in town also, and he and the Varleys left on the same train, Joe and his sister going to the station to see them off.

"If you get snowed in again, just let me know," called Joe, with a laugh, as the train pulled out. "I'll come for you in an airship."

"Thanks!" laughed Mabel, as she waved her hand in a final good-bye.

As Joe was leaving the station a train from Rocky Ford pulled in, and one of the pa.s.sengers who alighted from it was the ill-favored man who had endeavored to pick a quarrel with Joe at the hotel the night before.

The fellow favored the young player with a surly glance, and seemed about to approach him. Then, catching sight of Clara at her brother's side, he evidently thought better of it, and veered off.

Joe's face must have showed his surprise at the sight of the man, for Clara asked:

"Who is that fellow, Joe? He looked at you in such a peculiar way. Do you know him?"

Joe was glad he could answer in the negative. He really did not know the man, and did not want to, though it certainly seemed strange that he should encounter him again.

"He seems to know you," persisted Clara, for the man had looked back at Joe twice.

"Maybe he thinks he does, or maybe he wants to," went on the pitcher, trying to speak indifferently. "Probably he's heard that I'm the coming twirling wonder of the Cardinals," and he pretended to swell up his chest, and look important.

"Nothing like having a good opinion of yourself," laughed Clara.

That afternoon's mail brought Joe a letter from Mr. Gregory, in which the news contained in the telegram was confirmed. It was also stated that Joe would receive formal notice of his draft from the St. Louis team, and his contract, which was to be signed in duplicate.

"I wish he'd said something about salary," mused our hero. "But probably the other letter, from the St. Louis manager, will have that in, and the contract will, that's certain."

The following day all the details were settled. Joe received formal notice of his draft from the Pittstons to the St. Louis Cardinals. He was to play for a salary of three thousand dollars a year.

In consideration of this he had to agree to certain conditions, among them being that he would not play with any other team without permission from the organized baseball authorities, and, as long as he was in the game, and accepted the salary, he would be subject to the call of any other team in the league, the owners of which might wish to "purchase"

him; that is, if they paid the St. Louis team sufficient money.

"I wonder what they'll consider me worth, say at the end of the first season?" said Joe to Clara.

"What a way to talk!" she exclaimed. "As if you were a horse, or a slave."

"It does sound a bit that way," he admitted, "and some of the star players bring a lot more than valuable horses. Why, some of the players on the New York Giants cost the owners ten and fifteen thousand dollars, and the Pittsburgh Nationals paid $22,500 for one star fellow as a pitcher. I hope I get to be worth that to some club," laughed Joe, "but there isn't any danger--not right off the bat," he added with a smile.

"Well, that's a part of baseball I'm not interested in," said Clara. "I like to see the game, but I watch it for the fun in it, not for the money."

"And yet there has to be money to make it a success," declared Joe.

"Grounds, grandstands and trips cost cash, and the owners realize on the abilities of the players. In return they pay them good salaries. Many a player couldn't make half as much in any other business. I'm glad I'm in it."

Joe signed and returned the contract, and from then on he was the "property" of the St. Louis team, and subject to the orders of the owners and manager.

A few days later Joe received his first instructions--to go to St.

Louis, report to the manager, and then go South to the training camp, with the team. There his real baseball work, as a member of a big league, would start.

Joe packed his grip, stowing away his favorite bat and his new pitcher's glove, said good-bye to his family and friends in Riverside, and took a train that eventually would land him in St. Louis, at the Union Depot.

The journey was without incident of moment, and in due time Joe reached the hotel where he had been told the players were quartered.

"Is Mr. Watson here?" he asked the clerk, inquiring for the manager.

"I think you'll find him in the billiard room," replied the clerk, sizing up Joe with a critical glance. "Here, boy, show this gentleman to Mr. Watson," went on the man at the register.

"Do you know him by sight?" he asked.

"No," replied Joe, rather sorry he did not.

"I know him!" exclaimed the bellboy, coming forward, with a cheerful grin on his freckled face. "He sure has a good ball team. I hope they win the pennant this year. Are you one of the players?" he asked.

"One of the new ones," spoke Joe, modestly enough.

"Gee! Dat's great!" exclaimed the lad admiringly. "There's 'Muggins'

Watson over there," and he pointed to a man in his shirt sleeves, playing billiards with a young fellow whom Joe recognized, from having seen his picture in the papers, as 'Slim' c.o.o.ney, one of the St. Louis pitchers.

"Mr. Watson?" inquiringly asked Joe, waiting until the manager had made, successfully, a difficult shot, and stood at rest on his cue.

"That's my name," and a pair of steel-blue eyes looked straight at our hero. "What can I do for you?"

"I'm Joe Matson, and----"

"Oh, yes, the new recruit I signed up from Pittston. Well, this is the first time I've seen you. Took you on the report of one of my men. Glad to meet you," and he held out a firm hand. "Slim," he went on to his opponent at billiards, "let me make you acquainted with one of your hated rivals--Joe Matson. Matson, this is our famous left-hand twirler."

Joe laughed and shook hands. He liked the manager and the other player.

I might state, at this point, that in this book, while I shall speak of the players of the Cardinals, and of the various National League teams, I will not use their real names, for obvious reasons. However, if any of you recognize them under their pseudonyms, I cannot help it.

CHAPTER XI

GOING DOWN SOUTH

"Well, are you going to help us win the pennant, Matson?" asked Manager Watson, when he had introduced Joe to a number of the other St. Louis players, who were lounging about the billiard room. It was a cold and bl.u.s.tery day outside, and the hotel, where the team had lately taken up quarters, ready for the trip to the South, offered more comfort than the weather without.

"I'm going to do my best," replied Joe modestly, and he blushed, for most of the other players were older than he, many of them seasoned veterans, and the heroes of hard-fought contests.

"Well, we sure do need help, if we're to get anywhere," murmured Hal Doolin, the snappy little first baseman. "We sure do!"

"You needn't look at me!" fired back Slim c.o.o.ney. "I did my share of the work last season, and if I'd had decent support----"

"Easy now, boys!" broke in Mr. Watson. "You know what the papers said about last year--that there were too many internal dissensions among the Cardinals to allow them to play good ball. You've got to cut that out if I'm going to manage you."

I might add that Sidney Watson, who had made a reputation as a left-fielder, and a hard hitter on the Brooklyn team, had lately been offered the position as manager of the Cardinals, and had taken it. This would be his first season, and, recognizing the faults of the team, he had set about correcting them in an endeavor to get it out of the "cellar" cla.s.s. Quarrels, bickerings and disputes among the players had been too frequent, he learned, and he was trying to eliminate them.

"Have a heart for each other, boys," he said to the men who gathered about him, incidentally to covertly inspect Joe, the recruit. "It wasn't anybody's fault, in particular, that you didn't finish in the first division last season. But we're going to make a hard try for it this year. That's why I've let some of your older players go, and signed up new ones. I'm expecting some more boys on in a few days, and then we'll hike for the Southland and see what sort of shape I can pound you into."