CHAPTER XV
A CHARMING VISION
"Only a dream," commented Joe, as he was dressing the next morning, "andthey say dreams go by contraries. Let's hope that won't hold true inthis case. If I could only strike out Wagner on the field as easily as Idid in my sleep, there'd be nothing to the race except the Giants."
He was sorry that he could not see Wilson opposite him at breakfastas he had been at supper on the night before, but he supplemented theabsence of the veteran by a newspaper which he propped up before him ashe sipped his coffee. Mrs. Matson had always objected to this at home,on the ground that it was unsociable, and Joe had respected her wishes;but just now he had no one to consult except himself, and he did ashe chose. Joe had a shrewd idea that all women felt the same way andresented having a rival in the newspaper. Probably Mabel herself---- Butpshaw! that thought didn't bother him. Who would want to look at an oldnewspaper when opposite him at the table was something so much betterto look at, something that wore fetching little boudoir caps and allsorts of dainty frilly things, something with brown eyes and wavy hair,something that laughed and teased and bewitched while it poured thecoffee?
"Come, old man," Joe said to himself, "this will never do. Brace upand get on the job. Help the Giants to win the flag, get a slice ofthe money from the World's Series, and then you'll be in a position toask the sweetest girl in the world whether she is willing to pour yourcoffee for the rest of her life."
Naturally it was the sporting page that engrossed most of his attention.A great deal of space was devoted to the departure of McRae and most ofthe Giants from New York on their way to the grounds at Marlin for thespring training trip. Rosy predictions were indulged in as to the resultof the coming season. The general opinion seemed to be that New Yorkhad a capital chance for the pennant, now that McRae had plugged up twoweak places in the team, and especially because he had strengthened hispitching staff by the addition of Matson, who had done such sterlingwork in the box for the Cardinals the previous season.
These predictions interested Joe, but were not especially convincing. Hehad seen so many "good things" go wrong, so many teams strong on paper"come a cropper," while those who were only given an outside chanceby the baseball scribes came up from the ruck, that he had become anhabitual resident of "Missouri," and had to be "shown." Moreover, thiswas a New York paper, and he knew that local sheets in the seven othercities of the National League were industriously trying to prove, totheir own satisfaction at least, that their favorite sons could not lose.
What did have an especial interest for him, however, was an article thattold of his exploit in subduing Talham Tabbs. The news had filteredout from Riverside through the columns of the local paper, and themetropolitan sporting reporter had been quick to recognize it as havingall the elements of a good story. So he had featured it for all that hewas worth, even introducing an imaginary picture of the madman standingon the lumber pile while Joe was in the act of hurling the ball.
Joe was amused and rather pleased, and yet he knew that the story wouldwin him a large amount of banter from his mates.
"They'll be joking about Matson's 'freeze' ball from now to the end ofthe season," he grinned. "Well, as long as it gives 'cold feet' to thebatters I have to face, I won't have to worry about it."
He made a hearty breakfast and strolled back into his car, wholly atpeace with himself and the world. The pleasant influence of his dreamstill clung around him, and then, too, every mile traversed by the"Flyer" was bringing him nearer and nearer to Goldsboro.
It is not to be hastily assumed from this that Joe was unduly anxiousto meet his new team-mates. There would be plenty of time to becomeacquainted with them before the season closed. In fact, he wouldprobably have a surfeit of their society.
But Goldsboro was a pleasant town, and he would have four hours to staybefore the train from New York bearing McRae and his men should pullinto the station.
While he had been in the dining car the train had stopped at a stationand several passengers had boarded it. Joe noticed as he went to hisseat that the car seemed fuller than when he had left it.
He sat looking out of the windows at the flying scenery for a while,and then, as the train boy stopped at his seat, he put his hand inhis pocket for some change to buy a magazine that had an unusuallyattractive cover.
But as he settled back to study it, his eye, roving over the car, caughtsight of something vastly more attractive.
Three seats in front of him next the window sat a girl. He could notsee her face, but there was something in the tilt of the head thatreminded him of Mabel.
He sat for a moment as if transfixed. The next instant he was standingbefore her, hat in hand, his eyes eloquent with pleasure at thisunexpected meeting.
"Mabel!" he stammered.
She looked up and her face flooded with color.
"Joe!" she exclaimed delightedly. "How glad I am to see you!" And thenas though she had been betrayed into saying more than she intended herface became still rosier. Joe decided on the spot that pink was hisfavorite color.
"JOE!" SHE EXCLAIMED DELIGHTEDLY. "HOW GLAD I AM TO SEEYOU!"]
"What on earth brought you down this way?" she asked, as she made roomfor Joe to sit down beside her, a permission of which he availed himselfwith alacrity.
"I guess it's because I'm the luckiest man on earth," said Joe gallantly.
"What a pretty speech!" and she dimpled mischievously. Joe had neverknown that dimples could be so distracting.
"It seems to me that you are pretty far from home yourself," he declared.
"Are you complaining on that account?" she laughed.
"Anything but that," protested the young pitcher, and the look thataccompanied the words was convincing evidence of his sincerity.
"I've been attending a wedding of one of my old schoolmates," explainedMabel. "We had been great chums at boarding school and nothing woulddo but that I should act as her bridesmaid. We had a great time, andafter the happy couple had started on their honeymoon, her parentsinsisted that I should stay a day or two with them. I wanted to get homeyesterday, but they wouldn't have it."
Joe mentally blessed the unknown benefactors who had prevented Mabelfrom taking an earlier train.
"I guess I know after all, why you are coming in this direction," shewent on. "You know I'm greatly interested in baseball and I've beenkeeping pretty well posted as to the doings of the teams. I see that Mr.Joseph Matson is no longer a member of the St. Louis nine," she saidarchly.
"No," laughed Joe. "They got tired of me and so they wished me on theNew Yorks."
"Isn't that glorious!" declared Mabel with unaffected enthusiasm. "I'vebeen wanting to have a chance to congratulate you ever since I heardthe news. It's a great step forward, and it's wonderful when you thinkthat you've only been in the league a year. But I'm not a bit surprised,after seeing some of the games you pitched last year. That last one youpitched in New York was just splendid."
"Do you know why it was so good?" said Joe, earnestly, bending towardher. "It was because I had a mascot in the grandstand that day and Isimply couldn't lose."
"Is that so?" asked Mabel, innocently. "Dear me, how very interesting!I've always heard that ball players were superstitious. What kind of amascot was it?"
"Why," said Joe, "it had brown eyes and the most beautiful wavy hair,and a lot of dimples and----"
"Oh, look at that funny little farmhouse," hastily remarked Mabel,looking out of the window. "Did you ever see anything so quaint?"
But Joe, who had not the slightest interest in quaint farmhouses just atthis moment, persisted:
"As I was saying, this mascot----"
"Yes," interrupted Mabel, "but tell me one thing that I'm just dying toknow. Do you think the New Yorks will win the pennant this year?"
And Joe, despite himself, was forced to bow to her will and change thesubject. But he mentally resolved that he would yet tell her what hewanted to about that mascot.
"That's something that
's pretty hard to tell," he answered. "We've gota mighty strong team on paper, and if we get our share of the breaks, Idon't see anything that's going to beat us out."
"Won't that be fine!" she exclaimed. "And that'll mean that you'll playin the World's Series. Oh, if you could win the championship of theleague and the championship of the world in the same year!"
"It's asking a good deal," laughed Joe, "but stranger things than thathave happened. It would mean a lot of glory and it would also mean a lotof money."
"Oh, you mercenary men!" she smiled. "Always thinking about money."
"Sure," said Joe. "Why shouldn't they. What do you think they want themoney for? Listen, Mabel. Shall I tell you what Clara said would be agood thing for me to do with the Series money if I get a part of it?"
But Mabel scented danger and again she fenced.
"Don't trouble," she said. "I'll write to Clara and ask her about it."
Poor Joe realized how helpless a mere man is in the hands of a prettygirl when she wants to make him speak or refrain from speaking. But heclung desperately to the theme in the hope that in some way or other itwould give him an opening.
"I saw a moving picture the other day that was a dandy," he went on. "Itshowed the winners of the Series last year getting their checks in theoffice of the Treasurer. Were they a happy looking bunch? I should sayso. One of the checks was flashed on the screen and it showed figuresfor three thousand eight hundred dollars odd."
"A little fortune in its way," agreed Mabel.
"I should say it was," continued Joe. "Why, do you know what a man coulddo with that money? He could get a cozy little home and furnish itand----"
"Speaking of Reggie----" interrupted Mabel hurriedly.
"I wasn't speaking of Reggie," said Joe, exasperatedly. At that momenthe could have wished the unoffending Reggie at the bottom of the sea.
"I know we weren't," said Mabel, sweetly, "but really we ought to bebecause I'm awfully worried about the dear boy. He's been acting soqueerly of late. Hasn't seemed to have any appetite, and at night I canhear him walking the floor in his room. I've tried to get him to tell mewhat is troubling him, but he just says it is nothing and I can't getany satisfaction. Then too, he's constantly taking flying trips all overthe country. He's been away now for some time and in one of his lettershe told me that he had seen you. Did he tell you what was on his mind?"
It was very hard to resist the pleading in those brown eyes, but Joe wasloyal to that free masonry that makes men hang together. And besides,the little witch had been tantalizing him so, that there was a littlewicked satisfaction in having the whip hand himself, if only for amoment.
"Why, Reggie seemed very much as usual," he declared. "If he was a bitworried, it's only what all men feel at times. I know that more thanonce after I've lost a close game I've been like a bear with a sorehead. He'll be all right, no doubt, after a while. Do you think he's athome now?"
"I rather think he is," returned Mabel, "but I'm not sure. He wroteme that he expected to get home some day this week. But you'll have achance to see for yourself when we get to Goldsboro. Of course, you'llcome up to our house for dinner?"
"Do you really want me to?" he asked.
"Of course I do," she returned. "Mother will be glad to meet you againtoo. She's talked a lot about you since the last time you were there.She thinks you're such a handsome young man," she added mischievously,for the pleasure of seeing him blush.
"By the way," she went on, enjoying his confusion, "I've seen yourpicture in the papers so often for this last week or two."
"It's a shame to spoil good paper by putting my ugly phiz upon it," saidJoe, getting redder still.
"Ugly!" exclaimed Mabel, warmly. "I think it's just----"
She checked herself as though she had gone too far, and now it was herturn to blush.
"What do they say about the great Mr. Matson in today's papers?" sheasked lightly. "I haven't seen a copy yet. Have you got one? I'd like tosee it, if you have."
Her wish was a command and Joe went to his seat returning with thepaper. She turned to the sporting page and her eye fell upon the pictureof Joe in the lumber yard.
"Why, what's this?" she asked, wonderingly.
"Oh, it's a little thing that happened in Riverside," answered Joe. "Thenewspapers got hold of it and are making a mountain out of a molehill."
With quickening curiosity, Mabel read the account from beginning to end.When she had finished she looked up at Joe, and there was something inher eyes that Joe had longed to see there, something that made his heartgive a wild leap.
"Goldsboro," shouted the brakeman, putting his head in the door. "Allout for Goldsboro!"
Baseball Joe on the Giants; or, Making Good as a Ball Twirler in the Metropolis Page 15
