The letter was not very long, for Joe had had to dash it off hurriedly, but they read a good deal more between the lines than was written.
“Dearest Momsey,” the communication ran, “I am writing this letter in a rush, as I’m fearfully busy just now, getting ready for the World Series. Of course, you’ve read by this time all about the last game that won us the pennant. I had good luck and the boys supported me well so that I pulled through all right.
“Now don’t think, Momsey, when you see the enclosed bill that I’ve been cracking a bank or making counterfeit money. I send the money in a single bill so that it won’t make the registered letter too bulky. Dad can get it changed into small bills at the bank.
“You remember the clause in my contract by which I was to get a thousand dollars extra if I won twenty games during the season? Well, that last game just made the twentieth, and the club handed the money over in a hurry. And in just as much of a hurry I’m handing it over to the dearest mother any fellow ever had.
“Now, Momsey, I want you and Dad and Clara to shut up the house, jump into some good clothes and hustle on here to New York just as fast as steam will bring you. You’re going to see the World Series, take in the sights of New York and Boston, and have the time of your life. You’re going to have one big ga-lorious spree!
“Now notice what I’ve said, Momsey—spree. Don’t begin to figure on how little money you can do it with. You’ve been trying to save money all your life. This one time I want you to spend it. Doll yourself up without thinking of expense, and see that that pretty sister of mine has the best clothes that money can buy. Don’t put up lunches to eat on the way. Live on the fat of the land in the dining cars. Don’t come in day coaches, but get lower berths in the Pullmans. Make the Queen of Sheba look like thirty cents. I want you, Momsey dear, to have an experience that you can look back upon for all your life.
“I’ve engaged a suite of rooms for you in the Marlborough Hotel—a living room, two bedrooms and a private bath. Reggie Varley and Mabel are stopping there now, and they’ll be delighted to see you. They often speak of the good times they had with you when they were at Riverside. And you know how fond Clara and Mabel are of each other.
“Tell Sis that Jim Barclay, my chum, has seen her picture and is crazy to meet her. He’s a Princeton man, a splendid fellow, and I wouldn’t mind a bit having him for a brother-in-law.”
“The idea!” exclaimed Clara, tossing her pretty head and blushing like a rose, but looking not a bit displeased, nevertheless.