Baseball Joe In The Central League Part 11

"Good-bye," she said, softly. "I can't thank you enough--now. You must come and get the rest--later."

"I will," he said, eagerly.

"Here is my card--it has our address," spoke Reggie holding out a small, white square. "I trust you will come--soon."

"I shall try," said Joe, with a peculiar look at his accuser. "And I'll drop you a card about the horse."

Reggie helped his sister into the auto, and they drove off, Mabel waving a good-bye to Joe. The latter stood for a minute in the field, looking at the disappearing auto. Then he murmured, probably to the horse, for there was no other sign of life in sight:

"Well, you've gone and done it, Matson! You've gone and done it!"

But Joe did not admit, even to himself, what he had gone and done.

Prince seemed tractable enough after his recent escapade, and made no objection to Joe leading him out to the road. The young pitcher soon came to a farmhouse, where, when he had explained matters, the man readily agreed to stable the animal until it should be called for.

And, as Joe Matson trudged back to the hotel he said, more than once to himself:

"You've gone and done it, old man! You've gone and done it!"

And a little later, as Joe thought of the look on Reggie's face when he recognized the youth he had accused, our hero chuckled inwardly.

"He didn't know what to do," mused Joe. "I sure had him buffaloed, as the boys say."

Joe was welcomed by his fellow players on his return to the hotel. It was nearly meal time, but before going down to the dining room Joe wrote a short note giving the name of the farmer where he had left the horse.

"Let's see now," mused our hero. "To whom shall I send it--to him--or--her."

When he dropped the letter in the mail box the envelope bore the superscription--"Miss Mabel Varley."

Practice was resumed Monday morning, and Joe could note that there was a tightening up all along the line. The orders from the manager and his a.s.sistant came sharper and quicker.

"I want you boys to get right on edge!" exclaimed Gregory. "We'll play our opening game in Pittston in two weeks now. We'll cross bats with Clevefield, last season's pennant winners, and we want to down them. I'm getting tired of being in the ruck. I want to be on top of the heap."

Joe, from his study of the baseball "dope," knew that Pittston had not made a very creditable showing the last season.

The practice was sharp and snappy, and there was a general improvement all along the line. Joe was given several try-outs in the next few days, and while he received no extravagant praise he knew that his work pleased. Jake Collin still held his enmity against Joe, and perhaps it was but natural.

Wet grounds, a day or so later, prevented practice, and Joe took advantage of it to call on the girl he had rescued. He found her home, her wrist still bandaged, and she welcomed him warmly, introducing him to her mother. Joe was made to feel quite at home, and he realized that Reggie had said nothing about the articles missing from the valise--or, at least, had not mentioned the accusation against Joe.

"Will you tell me how, and when, you met my brother?" asked Mabel, after some general talk.

"Hasn't he told you?" inquired Joe, with a twinkle in his eyes.

"No, he keeps putting it off."

"Then perhaps I'd better not tell," said Joe.

"Oh, Mr. Matson, I think you're horrid! Is there some reason I shouldn't know?"

"Not as far as I am concerned. But I'd rather your brother would tell."

"Then I'm going to make him when he comes home."

Joe was rather glad Reggie was not there then. For, in spite of everything, Joe knew there would be a feeling of embarra.s.sment on both sides.

"I have come to say good-bye," he said to the girl. "We leave for the North, soon, and the rest of the season will be filled with traveling about."

"I'm sorry you're going," she said, frankly.

"Are you?" he asked, softly. "Perhaps you will allow me to write to you."

"I'd be glad to have you," she replied, warmly, and she gave him a quick glance. "Perhaps I may see you play sometime; I love baseball!"

"I'm very glad," returned Joe, and, after a while--rather a long while, to speak the truth--he said good-bye.

CHAPTER IX

THE FIRST LEAGUE GAME

"All aboard!"

"Good-bye, everybody!"

"See you next Spring!"

"Good-bye!"

These were some of the calls heard at the Montville station as the Pittston ball team left their training grounds for the trip to their home city, where the league season would start. Joe had been South about three weeks, and had made a few friends there. These waved a farewell to him, as others did to other players, as the train pulled out.

Joe was not sure, but he thought he saw, amid the throng, the face of a certain girl. At any rate a white handkerchief was waved directly at him.

"Ah, ha! Something doing!" joked Charlie Hall, with whom Joe had struck up quite a friends.h.i.+p. "Who's the fair one, Joe?"

"I didn't see her face," was the evasive answer.

"Oh, come now! That's too thin! She's evidently taken a liking to you."

"I hope she has!" exclaimed the young pitcher, and then blushed at his boldness. As the train pulled past the station he had a full view of the girl waving at him. She was Mabel Varley. Charlie saw her also.

"My word!" he cried. "I congratulate you, old man!" and he clapped Joe on the shoulder.

"Cut it out!" came the retort, as Joe turned his reddened face in the direction of the girl. And he waved back, while some of the other players laughed.

"Better be looking for someone to sign in Matson's place soon, Mack,"

remarked John Holme, the third baseman, with a chuckle. "He's going to trot in double harness if I know any of the symptoms."