And when he told her this on the night following the famous game that had set the whole country wild with excitement, and told her too, that victory meant nothing, unless she shared it with him, she had capitulated and promised to become his wife.
Reggie, her brother, had formed Joe’s acquaintance earlier than Mabel and in a less pleasant way. He was a rather foppish young man who cultivated a mustache that the girls called 46 “darling,” and affected what he fondly believed to be an English accent.
In a railway station he had left his valise near where Joe was sitting, and, on his return, found that the valise had been opened and some valuable jewelry stolen from it. He had rashly accused Joe of the theft, and had narrowly escaped a thrashing from that indignant young man, in consequence.
The matter had been patched up at the time, and afterward, when Joe learned that he was Mabel’s brother, had been forgiven entirely. The men were now on the most cordial of terms, for Reggie, despite his peculiarities and though he would never “set the river on fire” with his intellectual ability, was by no means a bad fellow.
There was a merry hubbub of greetings and exclamations while the men arranged for the baggage and the girls asked each other twenty questions at once and then the party paired off for the walk to the Matson home—that is, Joe and Mabel and Jim and Clara, formed the pairs, while Reggie was, so to speak, a fifth wheel to the coach!
Not that this bothered Reggie in the least. He ambled along amiably, dividing his talk and attentions impartially, serenely unconscious that each pair was willing to bestow him upon the other. 47
“We ought to have a band playing ‘See, the Conquering Hero Comes,’” remarked Jim to Mabel, who was walking in front with Joe.
“I know he’s a hero,” said Mabel, her eyes eloquent as she looked at Joe. “I can hardly pick up the paper but what it calls him the hero of the World’s Series.”
“I don’t mean a baseball hero,” said Jim, “but a real, honest-to-goodness hero—the life-saver and all that kind of stuff, you know.”
“Yes,” joined in Clara, “you came a day too late, Mabel. You ought to have seen Joe at the Opera House last night. He was simply great.”