“R. V.” caught up his peculiar bag and without another look at Joe, got aboard. For a moment the young pitcher had an idea of insisting on having the unpleasant matter settled, but he, too, wanted to go on. At any rate no one he knew or cared about had heard the unjust accusation made, and if he insisted on vindication, by means of a personal search, it might lead to unpleasant complications.
“Even if he saw that I didn’t have his truck on me that wouldn’t prove anything to him—he’d say it ‘wouldn’t do,’” thought Joe. “He’s altogether too positive.”
And so, leaving the matter of the missing articles unsettled, Joe sprinted for the train.
Joe saw his accuser enter the rear coach, while the young ball player took his place in the second coach, where he had been before.
“If he wants to take up this matter again he knows I’m aboard,” mused Joe, as the train pulled out of the way-station.
But the matter was not reopened, and when the junction was reached our hero saw “R. V.” hurrying off to make other connections. As he turned away, however, he favored Joe with a look that was not altogether pleasant.
The remainder of our hero’s trip to Montville was uneventful, save that it was rather monotonous, and, the further South he went the worse the railroad service became, until he found that he was going to be nearly half a day late.
But he was not expected at any special time, and he knew that he had done the best possible. Arriving in Montville, which he found to be a typical small Southern town, Joe put up at the hotel where he had been told by “Jimmie” Mack to take quarters.
“Are any of the Pittston players around—is Mr. Gregory here?” asked Joe of the clerk, after registering. It was shortly after two o’clock.