had been called upon to respond to the toast, "The Baseball Nine," that a messenger was seen to enter with a telegram.
"It's for Joe Matson," the boy announced loudly enough for all to hear. "Gee, but he's de stuff; eh? I'd like to shake hands wit a pitcher like dat! I'm goin' t' be one mysel' some day. Here's de tick-tick, sport," and he passed the message to Joe, at the same time regarding our hero with worshipful eyes.
Joe read the message at a glance, and a change come over his face.
"No bad news, I hope," murmured Tom, who stood near him.
"No, it's the very best!" cried the young pitcher, and he showed Tom the telegram. "I wired dad that we'd won the game," Joe stated.
Mr. Matson said in his telegram:
"Best of congratulations. Models and papers recovered. Everything all right."
"Hurray!" yelled Tom, waving the message above his head. "Three cheers for Baseball Joe!" and, when the cheers had subsided he briefly informed his mates what the telegram meant to our hero. Mr. Matson would still retain his fortune, and probably make more money than ever out of his patents.
