There was an earnest consultation between Mr. and Mrs. Matson that night, to which Joe and his sister were not admitted, for it was business they would not have understood. But at the close they were told to say nothing of what had happened that day.
“I will keep right on at the harvester works as if nothing had occurred,” said Mr. Matson, “and then they will not get suspicious. But I will do the most important and secret work on my invention here at home.”
“Now that it is all settled,” said Clara, “I’m going to say ‘apple sauce’ to you, Joe. What does it mean?”
“Oh, yes,” and the young baseball player laughed. “Well I guess you’ve got to join the Dorcas and Sewing societies, mother, to keep me out of a scrape,” and with many funny touches Joe told about his wild throw that day, making an amusing story of it.
“Oh, I would have given anything if some of the girls and I could have been there when you and Tom were blacking the stove!” exclaimed Clara with a laugh.
“I’m glad you weren’t,” declared Joe, “though it’s lucky we didn’t have to mop up the floor. After this I’m going to go a mile away from her house when I want to practice throwing.”
“I should think you would,” agreed Mr. Matson.
“But you’ll join those societies; won’t you mother?” asked Joe.
“Oh, I suppose I’ll have to, in order to keep you out of prison,” she agreed with a laugh. “But please don’t make any more engagements for me, as my time is pretty well occupied.”
It was two days after this when Tom Davis, coming out of school, caught up with Joe who was a little in advance of him.