But Joe did not admit, even to himself, what he had gone and done.
Prince seemed tractable enough after his recent escapade, and made no objection to Joe leading him out to the road. The young pitcher soon came to a farmhouse, where, when he had explained matters, the man readily agreed to stable the animal until it should be called for.
And, as Joe Matson trudged back to the hotel he said, more than once to himself:
“You’ve gone and done it, old man! You’ve gone and done it!”
And a little later, as Joe thought of the look on Reggie’s face when he recognized the youth he had accused, our hero chuckled inwardly.
“He didn’t know what to do,” mused Joe. “I sure had him buffaloed, as the boys say.”
Joe was welcomed by his fellow players on his return to the hotel. It was nearly meal time, but before going down to the dining room Joe wrote a short note giving the name of the farmer where he had left the horse.
“Let’s see now,” mused our hero. “To whom shall I send it—to him—or—her.”
When he dropped the letter in the mail box the envelope bore the superscription—“Miss Mabel Varley.”