“More delay! Say, Jim, can’t we beat it out of here?”
“Fine chance! Especially with your game leg,” Jim retorted, adding with a chuckle: “Here comes a cop. Watch him get rid of the crowd.”
“More likely to arrest us for disorderly conduct and disturbing the peace,” said Joe, disconsolately. “Fine husband Mabel will think she has. She’ll think I’m mighty anxious to get to her.”
“Don’t be such a gloom hound,” laughed Jim. “This cop has a pleasant face. Wait till I give him some blarney.”
At that moment the policeman, having interviewed the sullen and angry chauffeur, opened the door of the cab. The constantly gathering crowd pressed forward curiously to get a glimpse of Joe and Jim.
The officer, a round-faced, good-natured-looking individual, stared at Joe for a moment and then broke into a broad grin.
“Begorry, if you ain’t the livin’ image of Baseball Joe, the greatest slinger in captivity, my name ain’t Denny M’Lean!”
“Sure, it’s Baseball Joe! And we owe the fact that he’s still living to the quick wits of our friend here,” broke in Jim, indicating the still furious chauffeur. “That fool in the other car was driving on the wrong side of the road, officer——”