“That’s something that’s pretty hard to tell,” he answered. “We’ve got a mighty strong team on paper, and if we get our share of the breaks, I don’t see anything that’s going to beat us out.”
“Won’t that be fine!” she exclaimed. “And that’ll mean that you’ll play in the World’s Series. Oh, if you could win the championship of the league and the championship of the world in the same year!”
“It’s asking a good deal,” laughed Joe, “but stranger things than that have happened. It would mean a lot of glory and it would also mean a lot of money.”
“Oh, you mercenary men!” she smiled. “Always thinking about money.”
“Sure,” said Joe. “Why shouldn’t they. What do you think they want the money for? Listen, Mabel. Shall I tell you what Clara said would be a good thing for me to do with the Series money if I get a part of it?”
But Mabel scented danger and again she fenced.
“Don’t trouble,” she said. “I’ll write to Clara and ask her about it.”
Poor Joe realized how helpless a mere man is in the hands of a pretty girl when she wants to make him speak or refrain from speaking. But he clung desperately to the theme in the hope that in some way or other it would give him an opening.
“I saw a moving picture the other day that was a dandy,” he went on. “It showed the winners of the Series last year getting their checks in the office of the Treasurer. Were they a happy looking bunch? I should say so. One of the checks was flashed on the screen and it showed figures for three thousand eight hundred dollars odd.”
“A little fortune in its way,” agreed Mabel.