gly look. "You'll either beg my
pardon, or give me satisfaction! I'll----"

"Now here. None of that!" interposed the proprietor. "You aren't hurt,
Wessel."

"How do you know? And didn't he accuse me of----"

"Oh, get out. You're always ready to pick a quarrel," went on the hotel
man. "Move on!"

"Well, then let him beg my pardon," insisted the other. "If he don't,
I'll take it out of him," and his clenched fist indicated his meaning
only too plainly.

CHAPTER IX

JOE IS DRAFTED

For a moment Joe stood facing the angry man--unnecessarily angry, it
seemed--since, even if the young ball player had trod on his foot, the
injury could not have amounted to much.

"I told you once that I was sorry for having collided with you, though I
do not believe it was my fault," spoke Joe, holding himself in check
with an effort. "That is all I intend to say, and you may make the most
of it."

"I'll make the most of you, if you don't look out!" blustered the man.
"If you'll just step outside we can settle this little argument to the
queen's taste," and he seemed very eager to have Joe accept his
challenge.

"Now see here! There'll be no fighting on these premises," declared the
hotel proprietor, with conviction.

"No, we'll do it outside," growled the man.

"Not with me. I don't intend to fight you," said Joe as quietly as he
could.

"Huh! Afraid; eh?"

"No, not afraid."

"Well, you're a coward and a----"

"That will do, Wessel. Get out!" and the proprietor's voice left no room
for argument. The man slunk away, giving Joe a surly look, and then the
supper bill was paid, and receipted.

"Who was he?" asked Joe, when the fellow was out of sight.

"Oh, I don't know any good of him," replied the hotel man. "He's been
hanging around town ever since the ball season closed."

"Is he a player?" Joe inquired.

"No. I'm inclined to think he's a gambler. I know he was always wanting
to make bets on the games around here, but no one paid much attention to
him. You don't know him; do you?"

"Never saw him before, as far as I recollect," returned Joe slowly. "I
wonder why he wanted to pick a quarrel with me? For that was certainly
his object."

"It was," agreed Reggie, "and he didn't pay much attention to you until
he heard your name."

"I wonder if he could be----?" began Joe, and then he hesitated in his
half-formed question. Reggie looked at his friend inquiringly, but Joe
did not proceed.

"Don't say anyt