“Doesn’t look much like a highbrow,” remarked Joe.
“No,” agreed the newsdealer, as he arranged his papers. “Still, you can’t always tell from a frog’s looks how far he can jump,” he added philosophically.
Following the departure of the western teams there was an off day in the schedule, and the Giants, with a team composed mostly of rookies, went down to Bridgeport for a game with the local team. Joe had not gone along, as the game was an exhibition one of no importance, and as he had been under a steady strain of late he welcomed the opportunity for a day off.
It was a bright sunny afternoon, and Joe, who happened to be alone, had taken his favorite seat in the bay window of his apartment.
As he glanced idly across the street to a window nearly opposite, he caught sight of the queer-looking old man who had bumped into him at the news stand. The man caught Joe’s eyes, stared at him stupidly for a moment, and then disappeared behind the curtains.
“So that ‘nut on science,’ as the newsdealer called him, is a neighbor of mine,” Joe said to himself with a smile, and promptly forgot the incident.
He had never felt more at peace with the world. He had had a delightful letter from Mabel that morning, full of affection, and had answered it in kind. He had enjoyed a good dinner, and now, with a sigh of contentment, relaxed in his chair to bask in the sun and read the paper.
He was in his shirtsleeves, not having troubled to throw on his lounging jacket, as he expected no visitors and it was a relief to get out of harness.
He picked up the paper and began to read.