with the Phillies, which made Manager Watson gleeful.

"They called us tail-enders!" he exulted, "but if we don't give the
Giants a rub before the end of the season I'll miss my guess!"

The Cardinals were on the move again. They went from city to city,
playing the scheduled games, winning some and losing enough to keep them
about in fifth place. Joe saw much of life, of the good and bad sides.
Many temptations came to him, as they do to all young fellows, whether
in the baseball game, or other business or pleasure. But Joe "passed
them up." Perhaps the memory of a certain girl helped him. Often it
does.

The Cardinals came to New York, once more to do battle with the
redoubtable Giants.

"But you won't get a game!" declared Manager McGraw to "Muggins" Watson.

"Won't we? I don't know about that. I'm going to spring my colt slab
artist on you again."

"Who, Matson?"

"Um," said the manager of the Cardinals.

"Um," responded the manager of the Giants, laughing.

St. Louis did get one game of a double-header, and Joe, whose arm was in
perfect trim again, pitched. It was while he was on the mound that a
certain man, reputed to be a scout for the Giants, was observed to be
taking a place where he could watch the young pitcher to advantage.

"Up to your old tricks; eh, Jack?" asked a man connected with the
management of the Cardinals. "Who are you scouting for now?"

"Well, that little shortstop of yours looks pretty good to me," was the
drawling answer. "What you s'pose you'll be asking for him."

"He's not for sale. Now if you mentioned the centre fielder, Jack----"

"Nothing doing. I've got one I'll sell you cheap."

"I don't suppose you want to make an offer for Matson; do you?" asked
the Cardinal man with a slow wink.

"Oh, no, we've got all the pitchers we can use," the Giant scout
responded quickly. It is thus that their kind endeavor to deceive one
another.

But, as the game went on, it might have been observed that the Giant
scout changed his position, where he could observe Joe in action from
another angle.

"Didn't see anything of Shalleg since we struck Manhattan; did you,
Joe?" asked Rad, as he and his chum, taking advantage of a rainy day in
New York, were paying a visit to the Museum of Natural History.

"No," replied Joe, pausing in front of a glass case containing an
immense walrus. "I don't want to see him, either. I'm sure he planned to
do me some harm, and I'm almost positive that so