had learned more about baseball since getting into the big league
than he ever imagined possible. He realized, as never before, what a
really big business it was, involving, as it did, millions of dollars,
and furnishing employment to thousands of players, besides giving
enjoyment to millions of spectators.

The home-coming of the Cardinals, from their trip up from the South, was
an event of interest.

St. Louis always did make much of her ball teams, and though the
American Brown nine had arrived a day or so before our friends, and had
been noisily welcomed, there was a no less enthusiastic reception for
the Cardinals. There was a band, a cheering throng at the station, and
any number of reporters, moving picture men and newspaper photographers.

"Say, it's great; isn't it?" cried Joe to Rad.

"It sure is, old man!"

Joe wrote home an enthusiastic account of it all, and also penned a note
to Mabel, expressing the hope that she and her brother would get to St.
Louis on the occasion of some big game.

"And I hope I pitch in it," Joe penned.

A day of rest, then a week of practice on their own grounds, brought the
opening date nearer for St. Louis. Joe and the other players went out to
the park the morning of the opening day of the season. The grounds were
in perfect shape, and the weather man was on his good behavior.

"What kind of ball have the Reds been playing?" asked Joe of Rad, who
was a "fiend" on baseball statistics.

"Snappy," was the answer. "We'll have our work cut out for us!"

"Think we can do 'em?"

"Nobody can tell. I know we're going to try hard."

"If I could only pitch!" murmured Joe.

The grandstand was rapidly filling. The bleachers were already
overflowing. The teams had marched out on the field, preceded by a
blaring band. There had been a presentation of a floral horseshoe to
Manager Watson.

Then came some fast, snappy practice on both sides. Joe, who had only a
faint hope of being called on, warmed up well. He took his turn at
batting and catching, too.

"They look to be a fast lot," observed Joe to Rad, as they watched the
Reds at work.

"Oh, yes, they're there with the goods."

The game was called, and, as is often done, a city official pitched the
first ball. This time it was the mayor, who made a wild throw. There was
laughter, and cheers, the band blared out, and then the umpire called:

"Play ball!"

CHAPTER XVIII

HOT WORDS

That opening game, between t