“I do wish there was some way of proving to young Varley that I didn’t take the stuff out of it,” reasoned Joe. “But I don’t see how I can prove that I didn’t. It’s harder to prove a negative than it is a positive, they say. Maybe he has found his stuff by this time; I must ask him if I get a chance. And yet I don’t like to bring it up again, especially as she’s here. She doesn’t know of it yet, that’s evident, or she’d have said something. I mean Reggie hasn’t told her that he once suspected me.”
Joe went to his room, and made a much more careful toilet than usual. So much so that Charlie Hall inquired rather sarcastically:
“Who’s the lady, Joe?”
“Lady? What do you mean?” responded Joe, with simulated innocence.
“Oh, come now, that’s too thin!” laughed the shortstop. “Why all this gorgeousness? And a new tie! Upon my word! You are going it!”
“Oh, cut it out!” growled Joe, a bit incensed.
But, all the while, he was wondering how and when he would meet Mabel. Would it be proper for him to send her his card? Or would she know that the ball team had arrived, and send word to Joe that he could see her? How were such things managed anyhow?
Joe wished there was some one whom he could ask, but he shrank from taking into his confidence any of the members of the team.
“I’ll just wait and see what turns up,” he said.
Fate was kind to him, however.