CHAPTER IV
THE ANONYMOUS LETTER
All rose to their feet in hearty welcome. It was not the first timeReggie had visited the Matson home, and all were fond of him. Joe andJim especially gave him a hilarious greeting.
"Hello, Reggie, old man," cried Joe, as he shook hands. "I'm tickled todeath to see you. What good wind blew you down this way? I didn't thinkyou were within a thousand miles of here."
"Well, old top," explained Reggie, as he gracefully drew off his glovesand divested himself of his topcoat, "it was so beastly quiet inGoldsboro, don't y'know, that I got fed up with it and when the guv'norsuggested that there was a bit of business I could attend to in ChicagoI just blew the bally town and ran out there. Then bein' so near, Ithought I'd run down and see Sis and the rest of you. It's simplyrippin' to see y'all again, don't y'know."
He sat down in a chair, carefully adjusting his trousers so as not tomar the creases in the legs, and beamed blandly upon the friendlyfaces that surrounded him.
Joe and Reggie had first met under rather unpleasant circumstances,that bore no promise of a close friendship later on. Reggie had lefthis bag in a seat of a railroad station while he went to buy histicket. Upon his return he missed his bag, which had been left in aseat adjoining the one in which Joe had in the meantime seated himself,and had practically accused Joe of taking it. As may be readilyimagined, Joe was not the one to take lightly such an accusation, andReggie had to apologize. It was only after Joe had met Mabel that heagain encountered Reggie and learned that he was the girl's brother.But apart from his relationship to Mabel, Joe had found further reasonfor liking Reggie, as time wore on and he became better acquainted withhim.
Reggie had never been restrained much by his father, who was rich andindulgent. He had an inordinate love of fine clothes and an affectationof English customs and manner of speech. But these, after all, werefoibles, and at heart Reggie was "true blue." He was a staunch friend,generous, kindly and honorable. He idolized his charming sister, who inreturn was devotedly attached to him.
Another thing that strengthened the friendship between Joe and Reggiewas that they were both ardent lovers of the great national game.Reggie was a "dyed-in-the-wool fan," and though his general informationwas none too great he had the records of individual players and thehistory of the game at his tongue's end, and could rattle on for anhour on a stretch when he once got started on his favorite theme. Hewas a great admirer of Joe as a player, and intensely proud that he wasgoing to be his brother-in-law. Whenever the Giants played and Joe wasslated to pitch, the latter could be perfectly certain that Reggie,even if he chanced to be at the time in San Francisco, was "rooting"for him to win.
Jim also had met Reggie frequently and liked him thoroughly. The othermembers of the Matson family liked him, both for Mabel's sake and hisown. So it was a very friendly circle into which Reggie had come sounexpectedly.
"But I didn't expect to see you two chaps here," said Reggie, as helooked from Joe to Jim. "I thought you were down in the training camp,or else on your way to New York with the rest of the Giants."
"It was just a bit of luck that we are here," replied Joe. "McRaethought that we were trained fine enough, and might go stale if weworked out in practice any longer. He wants us to be at the top of ourform when the bell rings at the Polo Grounds."
"Bally good sense, I call it, too," replied Reggie, looking admiringlyat their athletic forms. "Just now you look fit to fight for a man'slife, don't y'know."
"Never felt better," admitted Joe. "Nor happier either," he added, ashe glanced at Mabel, who dropped her eyes before his ardent look.
"You came just in time to see the boys," put in Mrs. Matson. "They'restarting to-morrow for New York."
"Bah Jove, I'd like to go with them," said Reggie. "I'd give a lot tosee that opening game on the Polo Grounds. But this beastly business inChicago will make it necessary for me to go back there in a few days.In the meantime I thought that perhaps you might put me up here for alittle while, don't y'know?"
He looked toward Mr. Matson as he spoke, and both he and Mrs. Matsonhastened to assure the young man that they would be only too glad to doso.
All had a lot to talk about, and the evening passed quickly, until atlast Mrs. Matson excused herself on the plea that she wanted to seeabout Reggie's room. Mr. Matson soon followed, and the young peoplewere left to themselves.
"Well, what do you think the chances are of the Giants copping the flagagain, old top?" asked Reggie, as he pulled down his cuffs and put uphis hand to make sure that his immaculate tie was all right.
"The Giants look mighty sweet to me," answered Joe. "They've had agood training season and shown up well in practice. They've won everygame they've played with the minor leaguers so far, and haven't had toexert themselves. Of course that doesn't mean very much in itself, asthe bushers ought to be easy meat for us. But we've got practically thesame team with which we won the pennant last year, and I can't see whywe shouldn't repeat. Jim here has been coming along like a house afire,and he'll make the fans sit up and take notice when they see him inaction."
"Oh, I'm only an also ran," said Jim modestly.
"Indeed you're not," Clara started to say indignantly, but checkedherself in time. Not so quickly, however, that Jim failed to catch hermeaning and note the flush that rose to her cheek.
"Funny thing happened when I was in Chicago," mused Reggie. "I heard achap say in one of the hotels that there was heavy betting against theGiants winning this year. Some one, he didn't know who, was putting upcash in great wads against them, and doing it with such confidence thatit almost seemed as though he thought he was betting on a sure thing.Taking ridiculous odds too. Queer, wasn't it?"
"A fool and his money are soon parted," remarked Joe. "That fellowwill be a little wiser and a good deal poorer when the season ends, orI miss my guess. Who's going to beat us out? Nothing short of a trainwreck can stop us."
"Now you're talking!" cried Jim.
"Another thing that's going to help us," said Joe, "was that trip wehad around the world. We had some mighty hot playing on that touragainst the All-Americans, and it kept the boys in fine fettle."
"Speaking about that trip, old chap," put in Reggie, "reminds me ofanother thing that happened in Chicago. I was going down State Streetone afternoon, and almost ran into that Braxton that you handed such atrimming to over in Ireland."
"Braxton!" cried Joe.
"Braxton!" echoed Jim.
"Sure thing," replied Reggie, mildly puzzled at the agitation that thename aroused in the two chums. "I'm not spoofing you. Braxton it was,as large as life. The bounder recognized me and started to speak, butI gave him the glassy eye and he thought better of it and passed on.Funny what a little world it is, don't y'know."
"It surely is a little world," replied Jim, as a significant glancepassed between him and Joe.
"I glanced back," Reggie went on, "and saw him getting into a cardrawn up at the curb. As classy a machine as I've seen, too, for a longtime. Built for speed, y'know. If he hadn't driven off too quickly, I'dhave made a note of the make. My own is getting rather old, and I'vebeen thinking about replacing it."
The conversation turned into other channels and finally began to drag alittle. The others made no sign of being ready to retire, and at lastReggie woke to the fact that he would have to make the first move.He looked at his watch, remarked that he was rather tired after hisjourney, and thought that he would "pound the pillow."
Joe showed him to his room, chatted with him a few minutes, and thenreturned to the living room where he found Mabel alone, as Clara andJim had drifted into the dining room. It was the last night the boyswould have at home, and the two young couples had a lot to talk about.To Jim especially the time was very precious, for he had made up hismind to ask a very momentous question, and there is little doubt butthat Clara knew it was coming and had already made up her mind how itshould be answered.
It was an exceedingly agitated Jim that asked Mr. Matson
for a privateinterview the next morning, and it was an exceedingly happy Jim thatemerged from the room a few minutes later and announced to the familyalready seated at the breakfast table that Clara had promised to behis wife. There was a stampede from the chairs, to the imminent dangerof the coffee being upset, and Clara was hugged and kissed by Mabeland hugged and kissed and cried over by her mother, while Jim's handwas almost wrung off by Joe and Reggie in the general jubilation. ForJim was a splendid fellow, a Princeton graduate, a rising man in hischosen calling, and an all round good fellow. And there was no sweeteror prettier girl than Clara in all Riverside, or, as Jim stood ready tomaintain, in the whole world.
Needless to say that for the rest of that morning Reggie and Joe hadno other masculine society than each could furnish to the other, forJim had shamelessly abandoned them. Soon Reggie, too, had to chum withhimself, as Joe and Mabel had found a sequestered corner and seemed tobe dead to the rest of the world.
Just before noon, however, when Mabel had gone in to help Mrs. Matsonto prepare lunch, Joe had a chance to talk with Reggie alone.
"Mabel's looking rippin', don't you think?" remarked Reggie, as hecaught a glimpse of his sister passing the door of the room in whichthey sat.
"Most beautiful girl that lives," returned Joe, with enthusiasm.
"I guess she's stopped worrying about----" began Reggie, and thenchecked himself as though he had said more than he intended to.
"Worrying about what?" asked Joe, with the quick apprehension of alover.
"Oh, about--about things in general," replied Reggie, in some confusionand evading Joe's searching eyes.
"Look here, Reggie," said Joe with decision. "If anything's worryingMabel, I've got a right to know what it is. I've noticed lately thatshe seemed to have something on her mind. Come now, out with it."
Reggie still tried to put him off, but Joe would have none of it.
"I've got to know, Reggie," he declared. "You've simply got to tell me."
Reggie pondered a moment.
"Well, old top," he said at last, "I suppose you have a right to know,and perhaps it's best that you should know. The fact is that Mabelgot a letter a little while ago telling her that it would be a sorryday for her if she ever married Joe Matson. Threatened all sorts ofterrible things against you, don't y'know."
"What!" cried Joe, wild with rage and leaping to his feet. "Thescoundrel! The coward! Who signed that letter? What's his name? If Iever lay my hands on him, may heaven have mercy on him, for I won't!"
"That's the worst of it," replied Reggie. "There wasn't any name signedto it. The bounder who wrote it took good care of that."
"But the handwriting!" cried Joe. "Perhaps I can recognize it. Where isthe letter? Give it to me."
"I haven't got it with me," Reggie explained. "It's at my home inGoldsboro. The poor girl had to confide in somebody, so she sent it tome. And even if you had it, it wouldn't tell you anything. It was intypewriting."
"But the postmark!" ejaculated Joe. "Perhaps that would give a clue.Where did it come from?"
"There again we're stumped," responded Reggie. "It was postmarkedChicago. But that doesn't do us any good, for there are two millionpeople in Chicago."
"Oh!" cried Joe, as he walked the floor and clenched his fists untilthe nails dug into his palms. "The beastliness of it! The cowardice ofit! An anonymous letter! That such a villain should dare to torture thedearest girl in the world! But somewhere, somehow, I'll hunt him outand thrash him soundly."
"Don't take the beastly thing so much to heart," returned Reggie. "Ofcourse it's just a bluff by some bally bounder. Nobody ought to doanything with such a letter but tear it up and think no more aboutit. Some coward has done it that has a grudge against you, but he'dprobably never have the nerve to carry out his threats."
"It isn't that I care about," answered Joe. "I've always been able totake care of myself. I'd like nothing better than to have the rascalcome out in the open and try to make his bluff good. But it's MabelI'm thinking about. You know a woman doesn't dismiss those things as aman would. She worries her heart out about it. So that's what has beenweighing on her mind, poor, dear girl. Oh, if I only had my hands onthe fellow that wrote that letter!"
And here he yielded again to a justified rage that was terrible tobehold. It would have been a bad day for the rascally writer of thatanonymous letter if he had suddenly stood revealed in the presence ofJoe Matson!