team! Why, that team is
the one I----"

He came to a sudden halt.

"What is it?" asked Joe, wonderingly.

"I--er--I--er--well, never mind, now. Can you let me have--say, two
hundred dollars?"

"Two hundred dollars!" cried Joe. "I haven't that much money to spare.
And, if I had, I don't know that I would be doing my duty to my father
and mother to lend it."

"But I need it!" cried Shalleg. "Did you ever know what it was to be
down and out?"

"Well, I've seen such sad cases, and I'm sorry for you," spoke Joe,
softly. He thought of John Dutton, the broken-down pitcher whose rescue,
from a life of ruin, had been due largely to our hero's efforts, as told
in the volume immediately preceding this.

"Being sorry isn't going to help," sneered Shalleg, and there was an
ugly note in his voice. "I need money! You must have some left from your
pennant winnings."

"I had to spend a large sum for my father's operation," said Joe. "He
has had bad luck, too. I really have no money to spare."

"That's not so--I don't believe you!" snapped Shalleg. "You must have
money, and I've got to get some. I've been begging from a lot of fellows
who played ball with me, but they all turned me down. Now you're doing
the same thing. You'd better be careful. I'm a desperate man!"

"What do you mean?" asked Joe, in some alarm, for he thought the fellow
meditated an attack. Joe looked to see with what he could defend
himself, and he noted, though with no cowardly satisfaction, that the
door to the hall was close at hand.

"I mean just what I say. I'm desperately in need of money."

"Well, I'm very sorry, but I'm not in a position to be able to help
you," said Joe, firmly. "Why don't you go to the manager of your team,
and get him to give you an advance on your salary? That is often done.
I'm sure if you told him your need he'd do it."

"No, he wouldn't!" growled Shalleg. "I've got to borrow it somewhere
else. Then you won't let me have it?" and he glowered at Joe.

"I can't, even if I would."

"I don't believe it!" snarled the other. "And now I tell you one thing.
I'm a bad man to be bad friends with. If you don't let me have this
money it will be the worse for you."

"I guess you are forgetting yourself," returned Joe, quietly. "I did not
come here to be threatened, or insulted. I guess you are not yourself,
Mr. Shalleg. I am sorry, and I'll bid you good day."

With that Joe walked out, but not before the infuriated man called aft