“Oh, I caught him taking my tie, that’s all.”
“Yes, I did the same thing to one of the boys on my floor the other day. I gave him a flea in his ear, too.”
“And I gave Sam the tie,” laughed Joe.
“You gave it to him?”
“Yes, that thing has been haunting me. I never wore it but once and I got disgusted with it.” Joe failed to state that Mabel had showed a dislike for the scarf, and that it was her implied opinion that had turned him against it.
“You see,” the young pitcher went on, “I didn’t know just which of the fellows to give it to, and two or three times I’ve left it in my hotel room when we traveled on. And every blamed time some chambermaid would find it, give it to the clerk, and he’d forward it to me. That monstrosity of a scarf has been following me all over the circuit.
“I was getting ready to heave it down some sewer hole, when I came in to find Sam ‘borrowing’ it. I had to laugh, and I guess he thought I was crazy. Anyhow he’s got the tie, and I’ve gotten rid of it. So we’re both satisfied.”
“Well, that’s a good way to look at it. How are things, anyhow?”
“They might, by a strain, be worse,” answered Joe, a bit gloomily. The game that day had been a hard one, and Gregory had used a string of three pitchers, and had only been able to stop the winning streak of Buffington. Joe had been taken out after twirling for a few innings.
“Yes, we didn’t do ourselves very proud,” agreed Charlie. “And to-morrow we’re likely to be dumped. Our record won’t stand much of that sort of thing.”