"We've thought of that too," explained Reggie. "The governor promised Mabel a trip round the world as soon as she got through with the finishing school. She could have gone last year if she had chosen, but she got so interested in baseball----"

"Reggie!" murmured Mabel, warningly.

"Well, anyway," said Reggie a little lamely, "she didn't go, and so I put it up to the governor that there was no reason she couldn't go now. He saw it the same way--he's a rippin' good sort, the governor is--and he's left it to us to make the trip all the way round--that is, if I can get through my business in j.a.pan in time."

"If you don't get through in time, there'll be murder done," threatened Joe.

In the animated talk that ensued all took a part. But toward the end of the meal, Joe noticed that Jim was a little more subdued than was usual with him, and that some of the sparkle and vivacity had vanished from Clara's eyes and voice.

He glanced from one to the other and knew the reason. He knew how deep the feeling was growing between the two and realized what the coming six-months' separation would mean to them. A generous impulse came to him like a flash.

"Listen folks," he said. "Surprises seem to be in fashion, so here's another one. Clara's going along with us."

Astonishment and delight held Clara speechless--then she rose and flung her arms impulsively about her brother's neck, and for the second time that day Jim would have been willing to let her be a sister to him also.

Jim reached his brawny hand across the table.

"Put her there, Joe, old boy!" he said. "You're the finest fellow that ever wore shoe leather."

"Won't it be just glorious!" exulted Mabel.

"There never was such a boy in all the world," murmured Joe's mother.

"But, Joe dear, won't it be too great an expense?" suggested Clara. "You know it's less than a month since you sent us that thousand-dollar bill that took us to the World's Series."

"That's all right, Sis," rea.s.sured Joe, patting her hand. "Remember I cleared nearly four thousand dollars extra in the World's Series, and this won't put much of a dent in that. You just go ahead and doll yourself up--and hang the expense."

And so it was settled, and it is safe to say that a group of happier young people could not be found anywhere than those who discussed excitedly, until late into the night, the coming trip with all its marvelous possibilities.

The next two days flew by all too rapidly. The girls, of course, had plenty of time, but Joe and Jim had a host of things to attend to and a very limited time to do them in. But somehow, Joe made time enough to say a lot of things to Mabel that, to lovers at least, seem important, and Jim, though not daring to go quite so far, looked and said quite enough to deepen the roses in Clara's cheeks and the loveliness in her eyes.

It was hard to part when the time for parting came, but this time there was no long six-months' separation to be dreaded--that is, as far as the young folks were concerned.

Mr. and Mrs. Matson had counted on having their son with them throughout the fall and winter, but they had been accustomed for so long to merge their own happiness in that of their children that they kept up bright faces while they said good-bye, although Mrs. Matson's smile was tremulous.

A day and night of traveling and the ball players reached Chicago, where, at the Blackstone, they found McRae awaiting them--the same old McRae, aggressive, pugnacious, masterful, and yet with a glint of worry in his eyes that had not been there at the close of the World's Series.

Robbie was there too, rotund and rubicund, but not just the Robbie who had danced the tango with McRae before the clubhouse on the occasion of the great victory.

But if worry and anxiety had set their mark upon the manager and trainer of the Giants, it had not affected the players, who were lounging about the corridor of the hotel.

A bunch of them, including Burkett and Denton and good old Larry, gave the newcomers a tumultuous welcome.

"Cheer, cheer, the gang's all here!" cried Larry.

McRae clasped Joe's hand in a grip that almost made him wince.

"So the new league hasn't got you yet, Joe?" he cried.

"No," laughed Joe, returning his clasp; "and it never will!"

CHAPTER VIII

THE RIVAL TEAMS

Robbie, who had come up just in time to hear Joe's last words, gave him a resounding thump on the back.

"That's the way to talk, Joe, old boy!" he cried. "I've been telling Mac all along that no matter who else weakens he could bet his last dollar on you."

"Not that I needed any bracing up," declared McRae. "I know a man when I see one, and I count on you to the limit. I didn't send that telegram because I had any doubt, but I knew that they'd make a break for you first of all and I didn't want you to be taken by surprise. By the way, have any of them turned up yet?"

"A chap named Westland came to see me the very day I got your telegram,"

replied Joe.

"And he came well heeled, too," put in Jim. "Money was fairly dripping from him. He just ached to give it away. It was only up to Joe to become a bloated plutocrat on the spot."

"Offered good money, did he?" asked McRae, with quickened interest.

"Twenty thousand dollars right off the bat," replied Jim. "Fifteen thousand dollars a year for a three-year contract. And as if that weren't enough, he offered to put the money in the bank in advance and let Joe draw against it as he went along."

McRae and Robbie exchanged glances. Here was proof that the new league meant business right from the start. It was a compet.i.tor to be dreaded and it was up to them to get their fighting clothes on at once.

"That's a whale of an offer," e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Robbie.

"They've thrown their hat into the ring," remarked McRae. "From now on it's a fight for blood."

"There's no need of asking what Joe said to that," said Robbie.

"I wish you'd been behind the door to hear it," grinned Jim. "The way Joe lighted into him was a sin and a shame. He fairly skinned him alive. It looked at one time as if there would be a sc.r.a.p sure."

"It would have been a tremendous card for them to get the star pitcher of the World's Series," said McRae with a sigh of relief. "And in these days, when so many rumors are flying round it's a comfort to know there's one man, at least, that money can't buy. There isn't a bit of shoddy in you, Joe. You're all wool and a yard wide."

At this moment, Hughson, the famous pitcher who had been a tower of strength to the Giants for ten years past, came strolling up, and Joe and Jim fell upon him with a shout.

"How are you, Hughson, old man?" cried Joe. "How's that wing of yours getting along?"

"All to the good," replied Hughson. "I stopped off for a day or two at Youngstown and had it treated by Bonesetter Reese. I tell you, that old chap's a wonder. He tells me it will be as good as ever when the season opens."

"I'm mighty glad you're going along with us on this trip," said Jim, heartily. "It wouldn't seem like the Giant team with you out of it."

"I'm going through as far as the coast anyway," answered Hughson. "More for the fun of being with the boys than anything else. But I don't think I'll make the trip around the world. I made a half promise some time ago to coach the Yale team this coming spring, and they don't seem inclined to let me out of it. And I don't know if after all it may not be best to rest up this winter and get in shape for next year."

The three strolled on down the corridor, leaving McRae and Robbie in earnest conversation.

"How many of the boys is Mac taking along?" asked Joe.