[CHAPTER XIII]
MABEL
Joe Matson stood spell-bound for a second or so, staring at the valise which had such an interest for him in two ways. It meant the presence at the hotel of the girl who had awakened such a new feeling within him, and also it recalled the unpleasant occasion when he had been accused of rifling it.
“What’s the matter, Matson?” asked Gus Harrison, the big centre fielder, who stood directly behind the young pitcher, waiting to register. “Have you forgotten your name?”
“No—oh, no!” exclaimed our hero, coming to himself with a start. “I—er—I was just thinking of something.”
“I should imagine so,” commented Harrison. “Get a move on. I want to go to my room and tog up. I’ve got a date with a friend.”
As Joe turned away from the desk, after registering, he could not refrain from glancing at the odd valise. He half expected to see Reggie Varley standing beside it, but there was no sign of Mabel’s brother.
“Quite a coincidence that she should be stopping at this hotel,” thought Joe, for a quick glance at the names on the register, ahead of those of the ball team, had shown Joe that Miss Varley’s was among them. “Quite a coincidence,” Joe mused on. “I wonder if she came here because she knew this was where the team always stops? Oh, of course not. I’m getting looney, I reckon.”
Then, as he looked at the valise again another thought came to him.