“I’ll write to-morrow,” promised Mabel. “But now let’s dismiss all unpleasant thoughts and remember only that we’re together.”
While Joe was desperate at the injury to his foot that kept him out of the game just at a time he was sorely needed by his team, he found some compensation in the fact that he could spend more time with Mabel than would otherwise have been possible. He did not have to take part in the morning practice, and in the afternoons he and Mabel attended the games together as spectators.
On the other hand, Mabel was deeply disappointed that she could not see Joe pitch, as she had joyously counted on doing. She was intensely proud of her famous young husband, and was always one of the most enthusiastic rooters when he was scheduled to take his turn in the box. More than once Joe had won some critical game because of the inspiration that came to him from the knowledge that Mabel was looking on. But there was no use murmuring against fate, and they had to take things as they were, promising themselves to make up for their disappointment later in the season.
Reggie, too, felt that fate had treated him unfairly.
“Why, to tell the bally truth, old topper,” he declaimed to Joe, “I didn’t have to come to Chicago at all, don’t you know! I just drummed up the excuse that I ought to look over our branch in this city, and the guv’nor fell for it. It’s rippin’, simply rippin’, the way you’ve been pitchin’ and battin’ ever since the season opened, and I’d been countin’ on seem’ you stand the blighters on their heads. And just when I got here, the old leg had to go bad! It’s disgustin’!”
“Hard luck, old boy,” laughed Joe. “But you’ll see many a game yet through that blessed monocle of yours. If you feel sore, think how much sorer I am and take comfort.”
The crowning disgrace of having the Cubs take four games in a row was happily spared the Giants. McRae put in Jim again, and this time the team gave him better support and he pulled out a victory.
“Great stuff, old man,” congratulated Joe, as Jim, after the game, came up to the box in which Joe and Mabel were sitting.
“You pitched beautifully, Jim,” was Mabel’s tribute, as she smiled upon him.
“Awfully nice of you to say so,” responded Jim, in a sort of lifeless way. “But most of the credit was due to the team. They played good ball to-day. Guess I’ll go and dress now and see you later.”