“Yes, you couldn’t keep Sid away from a pigskin if you tied him. By the way, Mr. Hall was in here about an hour ago asking for you. Said I was to tell you to go around to the club this evening. Wants to see you about something. I think he said he’d had a letter from Mr. York.” Sam nodded. “Yes, I guess I know what it is,” he said. “I had a letter from Mr. York this morning; or, rather, a note. He--he’s got the contract, Tom.” “For the new Adams Building? That’s good. Hope they’ll make it fireproof this time. How is he?” “All right, I guess. He didn’t say. He didn’t write much; only five or six lines. He said his firm had got the contract and that--that he’d have a job for me next month.” “Really? Bully for you, Sam! Say, that’s fine! I’m awfully glad. What are you going to do--stand on the top of the building and catch beams and things?” “N-no, I guess it will be something about the office. I don’t know yet. But I’m mighty glad because I guess I’ll be able to make enough to start college next fall.” “Pshaw, you won’t need money, Sam! Why, I’ll bet there isn’t a college in the country that wouldn’t be tickled to get as celebrated a chap as you! You know, old man, you’re a bit of a hero. Mr. Hall says you had a whole page to yourself in one of the New York papers on Sunday.” “I wish they wouldn’t,” said Sam. Then a twinkle danced in his eyes. “Anyway, they had you in it, too, I’ll bet.” “Oh, yes, but I wasn’t important. He said there was a fine picture of you standing on a window-ledge with mask and mitt and leg guards! I must get that paper and see it.” And Tom chuckled. Sam smiled a little over the idea of the mask and mitt. Then, soberly, he said: “You were the real hero of that stunt, Tom. If you hadn’t thrown that ball just right the time you did--well, you wouldn’t have had many more tries!” “No, that’s a fact,” agreed the other gravely. “It wasn’t any time to get our signals mixed, was it, Sam?” “No, and you--you certainly were fine, Tom. I don’t know whether I ever exactly told you how--how awfully grateful----” “Don’t mention it!” exclaimed Tom hurriedly. Then, with a grin, “It was a pleasure, sir, I assure you,” he said gaily. “I always esteem it a great honour to pitch to Catcher Craig.” THE END * * * * * Transcriber’s Notes: --Text in italics is enclosed by underscores (_italics_). --Except for the frontispiece, illustrations have been moved to follow the text that they illustrate. --Punctuation and spelling inaccuracies were silently corrected. --Archaic and variable spelling has been preserved. --Variations in hyphenation and compound words have been preserved. End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Catcher Craig, by Christy Mathewson