“By Jove!” exclaimed Reggie, with instant sympathy. “Too bloomin’ bad, old topper. Mabel will go off her head when she hears of it.”
“I’ve already sent her a night letter telling her all about it,” replied Joe. “And mind, Reggie, if you see the dear girl or write to her, you want to make light of the whole affair. Ten to one it will be all right in a day or two.”
“I’ll keep mum,” promised Reggie. “My word! it’s too bad that you should come a cropper at the very beginnin’ of the season. Guess it’s worried McRae no end, what?”
“He’s as glum as an undertaker,” put in Jim. “And no wonder, for if anything happens to his star twirler it will make it mighty hard sledding for the Giants.”
“By the way, boys,” said Reggie, “speakin’ of the Giants—I noticed something mighty queer while I was in New Orleans. The bettin’ was heavily against the Giants that they don’t cop again this season.”
“I don’t see why,” remarked Joe. “We’re stronger this year than we were last. We’ve got rid of some of the dead wood and we’ve got a lot of new men that look like the real thing.”
“That’s what I think,” replied Reggie. “And that’s what made the bettin’ look bally odd to me. Looked as though the bookies had something up their sleeves.”
“They may be plotting something that they think will put us out of the race,” surmised Joe. “It’s been tried more than once, but they didn’t put it across. We’ve downed the crooks before, and I guess we can do it again. But let’s talk of something pleasanter. How long are you going to stay with us, Reggie?”
“Oh, a couple of days or so,” replied Reggie. “I’m hungry to see a little baseball, and I thought I’d hang around a little and see how the team sized up. And I was especially keen to see you swing the old soup bone once more. But I suppose this nasty accident puts that out of the question.”
They talked a little longer and then Reggie said he must leave them for his own room, which was on the same floor of the hotel.