"Just wait until the first game—that's all," requested Tom quietly. "If they knock Joe Matson out of the box it will be the first time it's happened since he found that he was a real pitcher."
"There are some pretty good batters on the first team," warned Ward.
"That's the kind Joe likes," replied his chum. "Just you wait; that's all."
It was the day for the first regular practice between the scrub and first teams. For several afternoons Joe had been pitching to Bob Harrison, who often acted as the scrub catcher, and as there was so much other individual playing going on no one had paid much attention to the work of our hero.
"Say, I think we've got a 'find' all right," announced Bob to Ward, just before the practice game was called.
"How so?" asked the scrub captain.
"Why, that Matson can sting 'em in for further orders, and he's got some of the prettiest curves that ever came over the plate. The Hiram-Luke crowd is going to sit up and take notice, take it from yours truly."
"I'm glad of it!" declared Ward. "We'll do our best to beat 'em, and it will be for their
