“But I didn’t expect to see you two chaps here,” said Reggie, as he looked from Joe to Jim. “I thought you were down in the training camp, or else on your way to New York with the rest of the Giants.”
“It was just a bit of luck that we are here,” replied Joe. “McRae thought that we were trained fine enough, and might go stale if we worked out in practice any longer. He wants us to be at the top of our form when the bell rings at the Polo Grounds.”
“Bally good sense, I call it, too,” replied Reggie, looking admiringly at their athletic forms. “Just now you look fit to fight for a man’s life, don’t y’know.”
“Never felt better,” admitted Joe. “Nor happier either,” he added, as he glanced at Mabel, who dropped her eyes before his ardent look.
“You came just in time to see the boys,” put in Mrs. Matson. “They’re starting to-morrow for New York.”
“Bah Jove, I’d like to go with them,” said Reggie. “I’d give a lot to see that opening game on the Polo Grounds. But this beastly business in Chicago will make it necessary for me to go back there in a few days. In the meantime I thought that perhaps you might put me up here for a little while, don’t y’know?”
He looked toward Mr. Matson as he spoke, and both he and Mrs. Matson hastened to assure the young man that they would be only too glad to do so.
All had a lot to talk about, and the evening passed quickly, until at last Mrs. Matson excused herself on the plea that she wanted to see about Reggie’s room. Mr. Matson soon followed, and the young people were left to themselves.
“Well, what do you think the chances are of the Giants copping the flag again, old top?” asked Reggie, as he pulled down his cuffs and put up his hand to make sure that his immaculate tie was all right.