At first there was a second of paralyzed silence. Then there was a wild hubbub of delighted cries, as four figures started up from the table and launched themselves upon the stalwart figure that stood framed in the doorway.

"Joe!" "Mabel!" "Clara!" "Momsey!" "Dad!" "Jim!" The names were repeated in quick succession and were punctuated with hugs and kisses.

In a moment Joe had his right arm around Mabel, his left about his mother, while Clara had thrown her arms about his neck and his father was attempting to get hold of one of his hands. There was no doubt of the warmth of that welcome.

THERE WAS NO DOUBT OF THE WARMTH OF THAT WELCOME.

Nor was Jim left out in the cold. Joe naturally had the center of the stage, but after the first rapturous greeting had passed, they all made Jim feel how delighted they were that he had come along with Joe. In Clara's eyes especially there was a look that Jim hoped he read aright. Her flushed and sparkling face was alive with happiness that might not be due altogether to the return of her brother, dearly as she loved him.

For a few minutes questions and answers followed close on each other's heels, and it was Mrs. Matson at last who suggested that probably the boys were hungry. They agreed with her emphatically that they were. The girls flew about, and in a short time fresh coffee and hot biscuits and bacon and eggs were set before them in tempting profusion. Then while they ate like famished wolves, the others, who had been just finishing breakfast when they burst in upon them, sat about the table and talked and laughed and beamed to their hearts' content. Perhaps in all the broad land there was no happier group than was gathered about that table in the little town of Riverside.

"You ought to have telegraphed that you were coming, Joe," said Mrs. Matson. "Then we could have had a good breakfast ready for you."

"What do you call this?" laughed Joe, as he helped himself to another biscuit, watching at the same time the bewitching way in which Mabel was pouring him another cup of coffee. "There couldn't be anything better than this this side of kingdom come."

"You're right there, old man," observed Jim, his own appetite keeping pace with that of his chum.

"Seems to me, Joe, that your clothes look a little seedy this morning," Clara remarked, with a sister's frankness, during a moment's pause in the conversation. "The last time you came home you looked like a fashion plate. But now your shirt front is wrinkled, your collar is wilted, and the colors in your necktie have run together. Looks as though you'd got wet through and hadn't dried out yet."

"Perhaps they've been in the river," laughed Mabel gaily, little thinking how near she came to hitting the nail on the head.

Mrs. Matson's motherly heart was quick to take alarm.

"What's that?" she asked. "Nothing really has happened to you, has it, Joe?" she inquired, looking anxiously at her son, who after one glare at the sister who had precipitated the topic, was trying to assume an air of nonchalance.

But this direct inquiry from his mother left him no recourse except to tell her a part of the truth, though not necessarily the whole truth.

"We did have a little spill this morning," he returned indifferently. "I turned the car a little too much to the right and we went through a fence and into a little stream at the side of the road. Jim and I got wet, but after we got over being mad we had a good laugh over it. Neither one of us was a bit hurt, and it's only our clothes that got the worst of it."

"Oh, but you might have been killed!" exclaimed Mrs. Matson, clasping her hands together nervously. "You must be more careful, Joe. It would break my heart if anything happened to you."

"Don't worry a bit, Momsey," replied Joe, placing his hand affectionately over hers. "Only the good die young, you know, and that makes me safe."

They all pressed him for the details of the accident, and he and Jim both made light of it, making a joke out of their plight and their visit to the tailor, so that apprehension vanished, and after a while the matter was dropped.

Joe was eager for a chance to get alone with Mabel, and Jim was quite as keen for a tête-à-tête with Clara. The girls were quite as eager, but as there was no servant in the simple little household the girls flew around to clear the table, while Joe had a chance for a quiet talk with his mother, and Jim beguiled his impatience by going out on the porch with Mr. Matson for a smoke before the latter had to go downtown to business.

"How have you been feeling, Momsey?" Joe asked when they had settled down in a cosy corner of the living room. "It seems to me that you're a little thinner than you were."

"I'm not feeling any too well," replied Mrs. Matson. "I have trouble with my breathing whenever I go up or down stairs. But I'll be all right pretty soon," she added, with an attempt at brightness.

"I'm afraid you've been working too hard, Momsey," replied Joe, patting her hand. "Why don't you let me get you a maid to help out with the work? The money doesn't matter, and you know how glad I'd be to bear the expense."

"I don't want any regular servant, Joe," replied Mrs. Matson. "I haven't been used to one, and she'd be more bother than help. We have a wash woman. There isn't much to be done in this little house, and Clara is the dearest girl. If I did what she wanted, I'd just fold my hands and sit around in the living room. And Mabel, too, has spoiled me since she's been here. She's already like a second daughter to me."

"She'll be really your daughter before long, if I have anything to say about it," replied Joe. "I'm going to put it right up to her to marry me while I'm here this time."

Mrs. Matson was both delighted and flustered at the boldness of this announcement.

"You take my breath away, talking like that," she replied. "But I'm afraid Mabel won't let herself be carried off her feet in that way. A girl wants to get her trousseau ready. And then, too, she'll want to be married in her father's house. You're a dear boy, Joe, but you've got a lot to learn about women."

"Mabel will agree all right," replied Joe confidently, though his masculine assurance had been slightly dashed by his mother's prediction.

The opportunity to make sure about that important matter came a few minutes later, when Mabel came into the room looking more lovely, Joe thought, than he had ever seen her before. Mrs. Matson lingered only a moment longer, and then made an excuse to leave the room. The door had hardly closed behind her before Mabel was in Joe's arms.

It was a long time before they were able to talk coherently, and when at last Mabel told Joe that he was too greedy and laughingly bade him be sensible, she was more rosy and beautiful than ever, and Joe was deeper in love than before, if that could be possible.

Joe was not long in putting his mother's prediction to the test.

"Do you remember what Jim said when we said good-by to McRae after the World Tour was over?" he asked, with a twinkle in his eye.

The flush in Mabel's cheeks deepened.

"Jim talks so much nonsense," she countered.

"Think a minute." Joe was jogging her memory. "Wasn't it something about bells?"

"How should I remember?" asked Mabel, though she did remember perfectly.

"Well, I remember," said Joe. "He said I'd soon be hearing wedding bells. Now do you remember?"

"Y-yes," admitted Mabel at last, hiding her face on Joe's shoulder, which was very close to her.

"I want to hear those wedding bells, very soon, dearest," said Joe tenderly. "Next week-this week-to-morrow--"

Mabel sat up with a little scream.

"Next week-this week-to-morrow!" she repeated. "Why, Joe dear, we can't!"

"Why can't we?" asked Joe with masculine directness.

"Why-why-we just can't," replied Mabel. "I haven't got my wedding clothes ready. And I'll have to be married in my own home. What would my family think? What would my friends think? It would look like a runaway affair. People would talk. Oh, Joe dear, I'd love to, but I just can't. Don't you see I can't?"

Joe did not see at all, and he renewed his importunities with all his powers of persuasion. But Mabel, though she softened her refusal with lover-like endearments, was set in her convictions, and Joe at last was forced to confess in his heart with a groan that his mother was right, and that he had a lot to learn about women.

He suggested in desperation that they go on at once to her home in Goldsboro and be married there, but although that would have taken away one of her arguments, the others still continued in full force, and she added another for good measure.

"You see, Joe, dear, your mother isn't well enough just now to travel so far, and it would break her heart if she weren't present at our marriage. By fall she may be better."

"By fall!" echoed Joe in dismay. "Have I got to wait that long?"

"I think it would be better, dear," said Mabel gently. "You see if we got married any time after the baseball season had commenced, you would find it hard to get away from your club. In any case, our honeymoon trip would have to be very short. Then, too, if I traveled about the circuit with you, you'd have me on your mind, and it might affect your playing. But I promise you that we shall get married in the fall, just as soon as the baseball season is over."

And as she sealed this promise in the way that Joe liked best, he was forced to be content.

The days passed by, as though on wings, with Joe grudging every minute as it passed that brought him nearer to the day when he would have to rejoin his team. The hours were precious and he spent every one of them that he could with Mabel.

Jim, too, was finding his vacation delightful. He was getting on famously with Clara, and the latter's heart was learning to beat very fast when she heard the step and saw the face of the handsome young athlete. The prospects were very good that two weddings would be celebrated in the fall, and that Baseball Joe would gain not only a wife but a brother-in-law.

During that week the moon was at its full, and almost every night saw the two couples out for a stroll. They would start out from the house together and walk down the village street, with only a few yards separating them. However, they usually lost sight of each other before they had gone far.

Joe was happy, supremely happy. Mabel had never been so dear, so affectionate. He knew that he possessed her heart utterly. Yet there was a faint something, a mysterious impression to which he could scarcely give a name, that at times marred his happiness and caused him to feel depressed. He chased the feeling away, and yet it returned.

There were moments when Mabel grew quiet and seemed as though brooding over something. Her face would become sad, and only brighten with a gayety that seemed a little forced, when she saw that he was studying her and seeking to learn what troubled her. At times she would cling to him as though she feared he was to be taken from her. Once or twice he questioned her, but she laughed his fears away and declared that there was nothing the matter. Despite her denials, he remained vaguely uneasy.

The day before his brief vacation came to an end there was a ring at the bell of the Matson home. Mabel, who happened to be in the hall at the time, opened the door. There was an exclamation of surprise and delight as the newcomer threw his arms about her.

"Reggie!"

"Mabel!"

There was a fond embrace, and then Mabel came into the living room where the family were assembled, while close behind her came Reggie Varley, her brother, the same old Reggie, monocle, cane, lisp, English clothes, English accent, fancy waistcoat, fitted in topcoat, spats and all-a vision of sartorial splendor!

* * *

Chapter 3 REGGIE TURNS UP

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