Baseball Joe In The Central League Part 17

"Same here," exclaimed Jimmie earnestly.

As Joe came down from his apartment, and crossed the foyer into the dining room, he turned around a pillar and came face to face with Reggie Varley--and his sister.

They both started at the sight of the young pitcher, and Mabel blushed.

Joe did the same, for that matter.

"Oh, why how do you do!" the girl exclaimed graciously, holding out her hand. "I'm awfully glad to see you again! So you are here with your team? Oh, I do hope you'll win! Too bad it's raining; isn't it? Reggie, you must take me to the game! You remember Mr. Matson, of course!"

She spoke rapidly, as though to cover some embarra.s.sment, and, for a few seconds, Joe had no chance to say anything, save incoherent murmurs, which, possibly, was proper under the circ.u.mstances.

"Oh, yes, I remember him," said Reggie, but there was not much cordiality in his tone or manner. "Certainly I remember him. Glad to meet you again, old man. We haven't forgotten what you did for sis. Awfully good of you."

Joe rather resented this tone, but perhaps Reggie could not help it. And the young pitcher wondered whether there was any significance in the way Reggie "remembered."

Young Varley glanced over toward where his odd valise had been placed, in a sort of checking room.

"Excuse me," he said to his sister and Joe. "I must have my luggage sent up. I quite forgot about it."

"Then there isn't any jewelry in it this time," spoke Joe significantly, and under the impulse of the moment. A second later he regretted it.

"No, of course not. Oh, I see!" exclaimed Reggie, and his face turned red. "I'll be back in a moment," he added as he hurried off.

Mabel glanced from her brother to Joe. She saw that there was something between them of which she knew nothing, but she had the tact to ignore it--at least for the present.

"Have you dined?" she asked Joe. "If you haven't there's a vacant seat at our table, and I'm sure Reggie and I would be glad to have you sit with us."

"I don't know whether he would or not," said Joe, feeling that, as his part in the story of the valise and the missing jewelry would have to come out sometime, now was as good as any.

"Why--what do you mean?" asked Mabel in surprise.

"Hasn't he told you?" demanded Joe.

"Told me? Told me what? I don't understand."

"I mean about his watch and some of your jewelry being taken."

"Oh, yes, some time ago. You mean when he was up North. Wasn't it too bad! And my lovely beads were in his valise. But how did you know of it?"

"Because," blurted out Joe, "your brother accused me of taking them!"

Mabel started back.

"No!" she cried. "Never! He couldn't have done that!"

"But he did, and I'd give a lot to be able to prove that I had no hand in the looting!" Joe spoke, half jokingly.

"How silly!" exclaimed the girl. "The idea! How did it happen?"

Joe explained briefly, amid rather excited e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.ns from Mabel, and had just concluded when Reggie came back. He caught enough of the conversation to understand what it was about, and as his sister looked oddly at him, he exclaimed:

"Oh, I say now, Matson! I was hoping that wouldn't get out. I suppose I made rather a fool of myself--talking to you the way I did, but----"

"Well, I resented it somewhat at the time," replied Joe, slowly, "but I know how you must have felt."

"Yes. Well, I never have had a trace of the stuff. I was hoping sis, here, wouldn't know how I accused you--especially after the plucky way you saved her."

"I thought it best to tell," said the young pitcher, quietly.

"Oh, well, as you like," and Reggie shrugged his shoulders. "It was certainly a queer go."

"And I'm living in hope," went on Joe, "that some day I'll be able to prove that I had no hand in the matter."

"Oh, of course you didn't!" cried Mabel, impulsively. "It's silly of you, Reggie, to think such a thing."

"I don't think it--now!"

But in spite of this denial Joe could not help feeling that perhaps, after all, Reggie Varley still had an undefined suspicion against him.

"I say!" exclaimed Joe's one-time accuser, "won't you dine with us? We have a nice waiter at our table----"

"I had already asked him," broke in Mabel.

"Then that's all right. I say, Matson, can't you take my sister in? I've just had a 'phone message about some of dad's business that brought me up here. I've got to go see a man, and if you'll take Mabel in----"

"I shall be delighted."

"How long will you be, Reggie?"

"Oh, not long, Sis. But if I see Jenkinson to-night it will save us time to-morrow."

"Oh, all right. But if I let you off now you'll have to take me to the ball game to-morrow."

"I will--if it doesn't rain."

"And you'll be back in time for the theatre?"

"Surely. I'll run along now. It's awfully good of you, Matson, to take----"

"Not at all!" interrupted Joe. The pleasure was all his, he felt.

He and Mabel went into the hotel dining room, and Joe's team-mates glanced curiously at him from where they sat. But none of them made any remarks.

"It was dreadful of Reggie, to accuse you that way," the girl murmured, when they were seated.

"Oh, he was fl.u.s.tered, and perhaps it was natural," said Joe. "I did sit near the valise, you know."

"I know--but----"