CHAPTER V

LUCKY JOE

Westland saw the party coming, and with a scowl turned his back upon
them.

Altman, however, greeted Joe with a smile and, excusing himself to
Westland, went over to meet him with extended hand.

"How are you, old scout?" he exclaimed. "You sure batted .300 last
night."

Joe greeted him cordially, while Jim and Clara strolled on toward the end
of the platform. It was astonishing what good company those two were to
each other, and how well they bore the absence of anybody else from their
conversation.

"I'm feeling fine as silk," was Joe's response to Altman's question.

"Didn't sprain your salary wing, or anything like that?" grinned Altman.
"You fetched that fellow an awful hit in the jaw."

"I hated to do it, but it was coming to him," laughed Joe.

"Well, if there are any doctors' bills, I guess the Riverside people will
be willing to take up a collection to pay them," replied Altman. "It's
mighty lucky for the town that you happened to be in the crowd last
night."

"I suppose you're off to keep your next engagement," said Joe, to change
the subject. "By the way, Nick, that was a mighty nifty skit of yours at
the hall last night. It brought down the house. It ought to pull big
everywhere."

"I'm glad you liked it," replied Altman. "I'm booked for twenty weeks and
I'm drawing down good money."

"I suppose you'll be with the White Sox next year, as usual," said Joe.

Altman hesitated.

"W-why, I suppose so," he said slowly. "My contract with them has another
year to run. To tell the truth, though, Joe, I'm somewhat unsettled."

"Why," said Joe, "you're not going to give up the game for the stage, are
you?"

"Oh, nothing like that," replied Altman. "I'd rather play ball than eat,
and I'll stick to the game as long as this old wing of mine can put them
over the plate. But whether I'll be with the White Sox or not is another
question."

"Some other team in the American league trying to make a dicker for you?"
asked Joe.

"Not that I've heard anything about," responded Altman. "But the American
League isn't the whole cheese in baseball--nor the National League,
either, for that matter."

"I see Westland has been talking to you," said Joe. "I don't want to butt
in, Nick, but don't let him put one over on you."

"The new league seems to have barrels of money," replied Altman, evading a
direct answer. "This fellow Westland seems aching to throw it to the
birds--he's go