“Yes,” laughed Joe, “it looks like a busy day.”
But just how busy a day it was destined to be it would have startled him to learn.
Every member of Baseball Joe’s little party had by this time become thoroughly acquainted with every other, and they formed a very congenial group.
Mr. and Mrs. Matson, as Joe had predicted when he had sent on for them to come, were having the time of their lives. The great world had opened up its treasures for them after the long years they had spent in their quiet village, and they were enjoying it to the full. And their delight in the new vista opened up was, of course, immeasurably increased by their pride in Joe and his achievements so far in the World Series.
Mabel, too, had taken them right into her heart and had won their affection from the start. They could easily see how things stood with her and Joe and were eagerly ready to welcome her into a closer relation.
Reggie was full of life and good-nature, and his knowledge of city life made him invaluable as a guide and companion. As for Clara, she was in a perpetual flutter of happiness. Was she not with her idolized brother? Was she not tasting the delights of a broader life that she had often read of and longed for but scarcely dreamed of seeing? And had not that handsome Mr. Barclay shown himself a devoted and perfect cavalier? Could any girl barely out of her teens possibly ask for more?
So it was a happy party that laughed and chatted as the train sped through the night toward Boston.
“Our last trip to Boston, for a while at least,” smiled Mabel.
“I wonder whether the Series will be settled there or at the Polo Grounds,” remarked Clara. “It would be glorious if when we come back to-morrow night the Giants should have won the Series.”
“Well, we have two chances to the Bostons’ one, anyway,” observed Jim. “They _must_ win to-morrow or they’re goners. We can lose to-morrow and still have a chance.”
“A chance!” objected Clara. “You ought to say a certainty.”
“I’ve learned already that there’s nothing certain in baseball,” laughed Jim.
“But Joe will be pitching that last game,” returned Clara, as though that settled the question.
“I wish I could make the Red Sox feel as sure of that as you do, Sis. If they did, they’d quit right at the start.”