“I guess it’s because I’m the luckiest man on earth,” said Joe gallantly.
“What a pretty speech!” and she dimpled mischievously. Joe had never known that dimples could be so distracting.
“It seems to me that you are pretty far from home yourself,” he declared.
“Are you complaining on that account?” she laughed.
“Anything but that,” protested the young pitcher, and the look that accompanied the words was convincing evidence of his sincerity.
“I’ve been attending a wedding of one of my old schoolmates,” explained Mabel. “We had been great chums at boarding school and nothing would do but that I should act as her bridesmaid. We had a great time, and after the happy couple had started on their honeymoon, her parents insisted that I should stay a day or two with them. I wanted to get home yesterday, but they wouldn’t have it.”
Joe mentally blessed the unknown benefactors who had prevented Mabel from taking an earlier train.
“I guess I know after all, why you are coming in this direction,” she went on. “You know I’m greatly interested in baseball and I’ve been keeping pretty well posted as to the doings of the teams. I see that Mr. Joseph Matson is no longer a member of the St. Louis nine,” she said archly.
“No,” laughed Joe. “They got tired of me and so they wished me on the New Yorks.”