CHAPTER IV

  AN APPEAL

  "Look out there!"

  "See if you can grab the horses, Reggie!"

  "Mabel, are you hurt?"

  Fast and excitedly came the exclamations, as Joe managed to free himselffrom the entanglement of robes and lines. Then he stood up, and, givinga hasty glance to see that Mabel and her brother were extricatingthemselves (apparently little if any hurt), the young pitcher sprang forthe heads of the horses, fearing they might bolt.

  But, as if the steeds had done mischief enough; or, possibly becausethey were well trained, and had lost most of their skittishness in thecold, they stood still.

  "For which I'm mighty glad!" quoth Joe, as he looked to see that no partof the harness was broken, a fact of which he could not be quite sure inthe darkness.

  "Are you all right, Mabel?" called Joe, as he stood at the heads of theanimals.

  "All right, Joe, yes, thank you. How about yourself?"

  "Oh, I haven't a scratch. The snow is soft. How about you, Reggie?"

  "Nothing worse than about a peck of snow down my neck. What happened,anyhow?"

  "Hit a drift and turned too suddenly. I guess you'll wish I had left youin the train; won't you?"

  "No, indeed!" laughed Mabel. "This isn't anything, nor the first upsetI've been in--Reggie tipped us over once."

  "Oh, that was when I was first learning how to drive," put in the otheryouth, quickly. "But can we go on, Joe?"

  "I think so. Nothing seems to be broken. We'll have to right the sled,though. I wonder if the horses will stand while we do it? I wouldn'tlike them to start up, but----"

  "Let me hold them!" begged Mabel. "I'm not afraid, and with me at theirheads you boys can turn the sled right side up. It isn't tipped all theway over, anyhow."

  She shook the snow from her garments, and made her way to where Joestood, holding the reins close to the heads of the horses. It was stillsnowing hard, and with the cold wind driving the flakes into swirls anddrifts, it was anything but pleasant. Had they been left behind by thehorses running away, their plight would have been dangerous enough.

  "Perhaps I can help you," suddenly called a voice out of the storm, andJoe and the others turned quickly, to see whence it had come.

  The snow-encrusted figure of a man made its way over the piles of snow,and stood beside Joe.

  "I'll hold the horses for you," the stranger went on. "You seem to havehad an accident. I know something about horses. I'll hold them while youright the sled."

  "Thanks," said Joe, and, as he spoke, he wondered where he had heardthat voice before. He knew he had heard it, for there was a familiarring to it. But it was not light enough to make out the features of theman. Besides, he was so wrapped up, with a slouch hat drawn low over hisface, and a scarf pulled up well around his neck, that, even indaylight, his features would have been effectually concealed.

  "I guess they won't need much holding," Joe went on, all the whileracking his brain to recall the voice. He wanted to have the man speakagain, that he might listen once more.

  And the unknown, who had appeared so suddenly out of the storm, did notseem to have anything to conceal. He spoke freely.

  "Don't worry about the horses," he remarked. "I can manage them."

  "They won't need a lot of managing," responded Joe. "I guess they've hadpretty nearly all the tucker taken out of them in the storm. It waspretty hard coming from Riverside."

  "Are you from there?" the man asked rather quickly.

  "Yes," answered Joe, "and we're going back."

  "Then I'm glad I met you!" the man exclaimed, and Joe, who had halfformed an opinion as to his identity, changed his mind, for the voicesounded different now. "Yes, I'm glad I met you," the stranger went on."I was looking for someone to ask the road to Riverside, and you cantell me. I guess I lost my way in the storm. I heard your sleigh-bells,and I was heading for them when I heard you upset. You can show me theshortest road to Riverside; can't you?"

  "We can do better than that," spoke Joe, trying, but stillunsuccessfully, to get a look at the man's face. "We've got plenty ofroom in the sled, and you can ride back with us, once we get it on therunners again. Come on, Reggie, give me a hand, if you will, and we'llget this cutter right side up with care."

  "If it needs three of you, I can take my place at the horses," suggestedMabel, who was standing beside Joe, idly looking through thefast-gathering darkness at the stranger.

  "Oh, the two of us can easily do it," said the young ball player. "Itisn't heavy. Come on, Reggie. Better stand a bit back, Mabel. It mightslip," he advised.

  Joe and his friend easily righted the sleigh, while the stranger stoodat the heads of the horses, who were now quiet enough. Then, thescattered robes having been collected, and the baggage picked up, allwas in readiness for a new start.

  Joe tucked the warm blanket well around Mabel, and then called to thestranger:

  "Get up on the front seat, and I'll soon have you in Riverside. It isn'tvery far now."

  "Thanks," said the man, briefly. "This is better luck than I've had insome time."

  For a while, after the mishap, none of the occupants of the cutterspoke, as the willing horses pulled it through the big drifts of snow.Joe drove more carefully, taking care not to turn too suddenly, and heavoided, as well as he could, the huge heaps of white crystals that,every moment, were piling higher.

  Reggie was snuggling down in the robes, and Mabel, too, rather worn outby the events of the day, and the worry of being snowed in, maintainedsilence.

  As for Joe, he had all he could do to manage the horses in the storm,though the beasts did not seem inclined to make any more trouble. Theman on the seat beside him appeared wrapped, not only in his heavygarments, but in a sort of gloomy silence, as well. He did not speakagain, and Joe was still puzzling over his identity.

  "For I'm sure I've met him before, and more than once," reasoned Joe."But then I've met so many fellows, playing ball all around the country,that it's no wonder I can't recall a certain voice. Maybe I'll get achance to have a good look at him later."

  "You'll come right to our house," said Joe, turning to speak to Mabeland Reggie. "Mother said so."

  "Oh, but we have our rooms engaged at the hotel," objected the otheryouth.

  "That doesn't matter. You can go there later, if you like. But motherinsisted that I bring you home," Joe went on. "You can be morecomfortable there--at least, until you get over this cold trip."

  "It's perfectly lovely of your mother," declared Mabel. "But I don'twant to put her to so much inconvenience."

  "It isn't any inconvenience at all," laughed Joe. "She wants to meetyou, and so does my sister Clara."

  "And I want to meet them," responded Mabel, with a blush that was unseenin the darkness.

  "Well, have it your own way," said Reggie, who was, perhaps, rather toomuch inclined to give in easily. Life came very easy to him, anyhow."It's very nice of you to put us up, Joe. By the way, how is yourfather since the operation?"

  "Oh, he has almost entirely recovered. His eyesight is better than ever,he says."

  "How lovely!" cried Mabel. "And how lucky it was, Joe, that your shareof the money your team got for winning the pennant helped to make theoperation possible."

  "Yes, I sure do owe a debt of gratitude to baseball," admitted the youngpitcher.

  "Do you play ball?" suddenly asked the man on the seat beside Joe.

  "Yes, I play at it," was the modest answer.

  "Amateur or professional?"

  "Professional. I am with the Central League."

  Was it fancy, or did the man give a sudden start, that might indicatesurprise? Joe could not be sure.

  "I suppose you'll be at it again this year, Joe," put in Reggie.

  "Oh, yes. But I may change my club. I'll tell you about it later. We'llsoon be at the house. Is there any special place I can take you to, inRiverside?" asked Joe of the stranger.

  "Well, I'm looking for a young fellow named Matson," was the u
nexpectedanswer.

  "Matson?" cried Joe. "Why, that's my name!"

  "Joe Matson?" the man exclaimed, drawing slightly away in order,possibly, to get a better look at the young player.

  "I'm Joe Matson--yes. Are you looking for me?"

  "I was, and I'm glad I found you!" the man exclaimed. "I've got a veryspecial request to make of you. Is there some hotel, or boarding house,where I could put up, and where I could see you--later?" he asked,eagerly.

  "Why, yes, there are several such places in town," said Joe, slowly,trying, harder than ever, to place the man who had so unexpectedlyappeared.

  "Take me to a quiet one--not too high-priced," requested the man in alow voice. "I want to see you on a very particular matter--that is, it'sparticular to me," he added, significantly. "Will you come and seeme--after you take care of your friends?"

  "Why, yes, I guess so--perhaps to-morrow," replied Joe, for he did notfancy going out in the storm again that night. "But why can't you stopoff at my house now?" he asked.

  "No, I don't want to do that," the man objected. "I'd rather you wouldcome to see me," and there was a note of appeal in his voice.

  "Very well, I'll see you to-morrow," Joe promised, wondering if thisman's seeking of him had any connection with his possible draft to theSt. Louis Cardinals.

 
Lester Chadwick's Novels
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