he St. Louis Cardinals and the Cincinnati
Reds, was not remarkable for good playing. Few opening games are, for
the teams have not that fierce rivalry that develops later in the
pennant season, and, though both try hard to win, they are not keyed up
to the pitch that makes for a brilliant exhibition.

So that opening game was neither better nor worse than hundreds of
others. But, as we have to deal mostly with Baseball Joe in this book, I
will centre my attention on him.

His feelings, as he watched his fellow players in the field, the pitcher
on the mound, and the catcher, girded like some ancient knight, may well
be imagined. I fancy my readers, even if they are not baseball players,
have been in much the same situation.

Joe sat on the bench, "eating his heart out," and longing for the chance
that he had small hopes would come to him. How he wished to get up
there, and show what he could do, only he realized.

But it was not to be.

Manager Watson's Cardinals went into the game with a rush, and had three
runs safely stowed away in the ice box the first inning, after having
gracefully allowed the Reds to score a goose egg.

Then came an uninteresting period, with both pitchers working their
heads off, and nothing but ciphers going up on the score board.

"By Jove, old man, do you think we'll win?" asked Cosey Campbell, as he
came to the bench after ingloriously striking out, and looked at Joe.

"I don't see why we shouldn't," responded Joe. "We've got 'em going."

"Yes, I know, but you never can tell when we may strike a slump."

"You seem terribly worried," laughed Joe. "Have you wagered a new
necktie on the result?"

"No," he answered, "but I am anxious. You see, Matson, there's a girl--I
could point her out to you in one of the boxes; but maybe she wouldn't
like it," he said, craning his neck and going out from under the shelter
of the players' bench and looking at the crowd in the grandstand.

"Oh, that's all right, I'll take your word for it," said Joe, for he
appreciated the other's feelings.

"A girl, you understand, Matson. She's here to see the game," went on
Campbell. "I sent her tickets, and I told her we were sure to win. She's
here, and I'm going to take her out to supper to-night. I've got the
stunningest tie----"

He fumbled in his pocket.

"Thought I had a sample of it here with me," he said. "But I haven't.
It's sort of purple--plum color--with a shooting of gold, and it
shimmers dow