ooking for came when he was offered a chance to
play in the Pittston team of the Central League. It was only a minor
league, but all the great players have been developed in that way, and Joe
determined to make it a stepping stone to something higher. How he
speedily rose to leadership among the twirlers of his league is told in
the fourth volume of the series, entitled: "Baseball Joe in the Central
League; Or, Making Good as a Professional Pitcher."

While Joe had been winning his spurs, the keen-eyed scouts of the big
leagues had not been idle. The St. Louis team of the National League
drafted him into their ranks and took him away from the "bushes." Now he
felt that he was really on the highway to success. Almost from the start
he created a sensation, and it was his pitching that brought his team into
the first division.

A still wider field opened up before him when after one year with St.
Louis he was bought by the New York Giants. This had been his ambition
from the start, but he had scarcely dared to hope that his dream would
come true. He promised himself that he would "pitch his head off" to
justify the confidence that McRae, the Giants' manager, had put in him.
How he came through an exciting season and in the final game won the
championship for his team can be seen in the sixth volume of the series,
entitled: "Baseball Joe on the Giants; Or, Making Good as a Ball Twirler
in the Metropolis."

Of course this brought him into the World's Series, in which that year the
Boston Red Sox were the Giants' opponents. It proved to be a whirlwind
series, whose result remained in doubt until the last inning of the last
game. Joe had fearful odds to contend against since an accident to
Hughson, the Giants' standby, put the bulk of the pitching burden on our
hero's shoulders. Unscrupulous enemies also sought by foul means to keep
him out of the Series, but Joe's indomitable will and magnificent pitching
won out against all odds, as told in the volume preceding this, entitled:
"Baseball Joe in the World Series; Or, Pitching for the Championship."

If ever a man had earned a rest it was Joe, and, as we have seen, he was
taking it now in his home town. Jim Barclay, a fine young Princeton man
and second-string pitcher on the Giants, had come with him, not so much,
it is to be suspected, because of his fondness for Joe, though that was
great, as to be near Clara, Joe's charming sister, who had been working
all sorts of havoc