In silence Dugan left the field, and the Reds, who were jubilant over the double play, came in from the diamond.

"The fat's in the fire now, for sure," sighed Rad, "with Dugan out of the game. Hang it all, anyhow!"

"Oh, we can't win every time," and Joe tried to speak cheerfully.

And so the Reds won the second of the first series of games. There was a rather stormy scene in the clubhouse after it was over, and Mr. Watson did some plain talking to Dugan. But, after all, it was too common an occurrence to merit much attention, and, really, nothing very serious had occurred.

The contest between the Reds and Cardinals was an even break, each team taking two. Then came preparations for the Cardinals taking the road. A series of four games with the Chicago Cubs was next in order, and there, in the Windy City, St. Louis fared rather better, taking three.

"I wonder if I'm ever going to get a chance," mused Joe, who had been sent to the "bull-pen" many times to warm up, but as yet he had not been called on.

After games with the Pittsburg Pirates, in which an even break was registered, the Cardinals returned to St. Louis. As they had an open date, a game was arranged with one of the Central League teams, the Washburgs.

"Say, I would like to pitch against them!" exclaimed Joe.

And he had his chance. When the practice was over Manager Watson, with a smile at our hero, said, with a friendly nod:

"Joe, you go in and see what you can do."

Joe was to have his first big chance.

CHAPTER XX

STAGE FRIGHT

Joe was a little nervous at first, but it was like being among old friends to work against the Washburg team.

"How's your head, Joe?" asked some of the players whom he knew well, from having a.s.sociated with them in the Central League.

"Had to get larger sized caps?" asked another.

"Don't you believe it!" exclaimed the Washburg catcher. "Joe Matson isn't that kind of a chap!" and Joe was grateful to him.

The game was not so easy as some of the Cardinal players had professed to believe it would be. Not all of the first string men went in, but they were in reserve, to be used if needed. For baseball is often an uncertainty.

Joe looked around at the grandstands and bleachers as he went out for warm-up practice.

There was a fair-sized crowd in attendance, but nothing like the throng that would have been present at a league game.

"But I'll pitch before a big crowd before I'm through the season!"

declared Joe to himself, though it was not clear how this was to be brought about.

Washburg had a good team, and knew how to make everything tell. They led off with a run, which, however, was due to an error on the part of two of the Cardinals. Joe was a little put out by it, for he had allowed only scattering hits that inning.

"Better try to tighten up--if you can," advised Boswell, as our hero came to the bench. "They're finding you a bit."

"They won't--any more!" exclaimed Joe, fiercely.

The Washburg pitcher was a good one, as Joe knew, so it was not surprising that he was not so very badly batted. In fact, it was hard work for the Cardinals to garner three runs during their half of the first inning. But they got them.

Joe had the advantage of knowing considerable about the various batters who faced him, so it was easier than it would have been for another pitcher to deceive them. He varied his delivery, used his fadeaway and his cross-fire, and had the satisfaction of pitching three innings during which he did not allow a hit.

"That's the way to do it!" exclaimed his friend Boswell, the coach.

"Hold 'em to that, and you'll have a look-in at a big game, soon."

And Joe did. In vain did the Washburgs send in their best pinch hitters; in vain did they try to steal bases. Twice Joe nipped the man at first, who was taking too big a lead, and once the young pitcher stopped a hot liner that came driving right at him.

Then the story was told, and the Cardinals romped home easy winners. Joe had done well, even though the Washburgs were not exactly big leaguers.

In the weeks that followed, Joe worked hard. There was constant morning practice, when the weather allowed it, and the work on the circuit was exacting. Occasionally Joe went in as relief pitcher, when the game was safe in the "ice box," but the chance he wanted was to pitch against the New Yorks at St. Louis.

For the Giants were at the top of the league now, and holding on to their pennant place with grim tenacity. In turn Joe and his fellow players went to Philadelphia, New York and Boston, eventually playing all around the circuit, but, as yet, the young pitcher had had no real chance to show what he could do.

It was irksome--it was even heart-breaking at times; but Joe had to stand it. Sometimes he felt that he could do better than Barter, Willard and c.o.o.ney, the seasoned veterans, and especially was this so when the game went against the Cardinals.

For the St. Louis team was falling sadly behind. They were next to the tail-enders for some time, and the outlook was dubious. The papers alternately roasted and poked fun at the Cardinals, and Manager Watson was urged to "do something."

Various remedies were suggested. New players might be had, and in fact some exchanges were made. Another catcher was imported, from the Detroits, and a new shortstop engaged in a trade. But the pitching staff remained unchanged.

Then some reporter, looking for "copy," saw a chance in Joe, and in a snappy little article reviewed Joe's career, ending with:

"If Mr. Watson wants to see his Cardinals crawl up out of the subway why doesn't he give Matson a chance? The youngster can pitch good ball, and the line of twirling that has been handed out by the Cardinals thus far this season would be laughable, were it not lamentable."

Of course that article made trouble for Joe, especially with the pitching staff.

"Say, how much did you slip that reporter to pull off that dope about you?" inquired Willard with a sneer.

"What do you mean?" asked Joe indignantly.

"I mean how much coin did you pay him?"

"You know I didn't have anything to do with it!" our hero fired back.

"He asked me for my record, and I gave it to him. I didn't know he was going to write that."

"A likely story," grumbled Willard.

The other pitchers did not say so much, but it was clear they did not like the "roasting" they got. But it was not Joe's doing.

There were shifts and re-shifts, there were hard feelings manifested, and gotten over. But nothing could disguise the fact that the Cardinals were in a "slump."

Loyal as the St. Louis "fans" were to their teams, when they were on the winning side, it was not in human nature to love a losing nine.

So that it got to be the fashion to refer to the Cardinals as "losing again." And this did not make for good ball playing, either. There were sore hearts among the players when they a.s.sembled in the clubhouse after successive defeats.