BLUNDERING OLD REGGIE
“Oh, Joe, I do believe I’ll go shopping to-day.”
Mabel turned from the window where she had been standing looking down
into the street. It was a glorious day, bright and sunshiny, and her
face reflected the brightness of it.
“I do so like to shop in nice weather,” she added, as she saw Joe’s
indulgent smile. “And if you like, I’ll stop and buy you some gorgeous
neckties.”
“Dear girl, is that a threat or a promise?” teased Joe.
“Very well, I shall be completely selfish and buy everything for
myself,” Mabel promptly replied, adding with a sigh: “How you do wreck
my generous impulses!”
“Didn’t mean to, honey, honestly,” said Joe, contritely, adding with a
courage that none appreciated more than Mabel herself: “If you buy me a
necktie, I swear to wear it whatever happens!”
Mabel made a face at him and disappeared into the other room, returning
almost immediately with her hat and coat on.
“I won’t have much time between practice and the game,” Joe told her,
as they went down together in the elevator. “So have a good time, girl.
Take in a show if you like.”
Mabel promised to enjoy herself, and a few moments later they parted in
the sunny street, going their separate ways. Mabel turned to wave to
him before she was swallowed up in the crowd, and Joe thought with a
full heart how lucky he was.
“If I were in poor old Jim’s place now, how would I feel?” he asked
himself, and instinctively thrust the unpleasant thought away from him.
He knew the agony of mind he would have suffered if at any time he had
been in danger of losing Mabel, and pity for his chum took on a new
intensity. He was almost afraid to meet Jim for fear of seeing that
hopeless, lost look in his eyes.
“He certainly knows--or guesses--something,” he told himself. “If I
get a chance to-day I’ll sound him out on the subject. After all, it
sometimes helps a patient to have the wound lanced.”
After the Giants had dropped another game, the chums, tired and
disgruntled, turned their steps toward the hotel again. Jim seemed
more than ordinarily depressed and met Joe’s attempts at conversation
with discouraging monosyllables. Several times Joe tried to lead up to
the subject of Clara, only to be rebuffed by Jim’s laconic replies.
After that Joe relapsed into silence, studying his chum thoughtfully.
The thing was getting serious. Jim’s silence and moroseness were
growing on him. And the worst of it was that he did not seem to care.
It was this very lethargy that Joe found most alarming. He would have
welcomed an outburst of some sort, even condemnation of Clara and her
actions. It was Jim’s brooding taciturnity that baffled him.
They had almost reached the hotel when Joe felt a hand on his arm and
turned to find himself confronted by a dazzling person. He blinked, and
discovered that the vision was Reggie, dressed as always, in the latest
fashion from smart soft hat to immaculate spats. Reggie swung his cane
and beamed. Perhaps because the friendly face with its inevitable
monocle was a welcome contrast to Jim’s moodiness, Joe greeted his
brother-in-law with more than usual enthusiasm.
“Say, but you’re a sight for sore eyes, old chap!” he cried. “When did
you blow in?”
“About an hour ago. Been busy all this time lookin’ up a novel tie or
two. Stopped in all the shops hereabouts and, bah Jove, the best they
could show me was a creation of salmon pink with yellowish polka dots.
No taste, no taste whatever, one might say!”
“Poor old Reggie!” said Joe, piloting him toward the hotel entrance
and looking invitingly at Jim. “I’ll put you wise to a couple of shops
where you can get all the novel neckties you want. Come on upstairs,
old boy, and see Mabel. She’ll be pleasantly surprised. Coming, Jim?”
Jim hesitated for a moment, then nodded. The three stepped into the
elevator and were swiftly shot up to the fourth floor. As they left the
elevator, Reggie looked Jim over critically and gave vent to one of his
too-frank observations.
“Lookin’ rather seedy, old chap,” he said. “Off the feed bag and
sleepin’ badly, eh?”
“Not at all. I’m feeling as fit as a fiddle,” retorted Jim, brusquely.
The curt tone caused Reggie to look at the other in mild surprise, and,
seeing that he was about to give voice to this emotion, Joe quickly
changed the subject, keeping the conversation on safe ground until they
reached the door of his rooms.
Mabel had not yet returned from her shopping expedition, and Joe felt
curiously deserted as he led the way into the quiet place.
“Mabel is out buying up the department stores,” he said. “Reckon she
will be back most any time now. Tell us about yourself, Reggie. Every
one well at home?”
Reggie glanced briefly at Jim, who had slumped into a chair and was
staring abstractedly out of a window, then turned to Joe.
“Very well, old chap. In excellent health and spirits,” he replied,
puffing at a cigarette. “Missing Mabel, of course. It is really quite
remarkable how that girl stirs things up. Bah Jove, it’s a gift. Bally
place gone dead without her, you know.”
“Do you think you can tell me anything about that?” inquired Joe, with
a humorously uplifted eyebrow. “I know all there is to know about
missing Mabel!”
Jim turned from the window, rousing himself with difficulty from his
abstracted mood.
“I think she’s coming now,” he said. “Thought I caught a glimpse of a
red hat in the crowd. Guess I’ll be going, Joe,” he added, listlessly.
“You three will have a lot to talk about.”
“Hang around, old boy,” urged Reggie, cordially, placing the monocle in
his eye the better to stare at the disconsolate Jim. “Always regard you
as one of the family, don’t we? You would be offending Mabel by running
away just as she arrives, you know. Stick around, old chap. She will
be here presently. Ah, here she is now.” He rose quickly, the monocle
falling to his immaculate waistcoat, the most genuine pleasure on his
thin face.
He took a step toward the door, but Joe was before him. He caught his
young wife--and several bulky parcels--in a bear’s hug, and when she
emerged several seconds later, her face was flushed and the little red
hat was set distractingly over one eye.
“Oh, Joe, and it was a new one, too!” she wailed, evidently referring
to the hat. “I had such a gorgeous time. I bought and bought and
bought-- Who is that in the corner? Reggie, you old darling! Come here
and give me a hug. Oh, this is just the best surprise ever.”
“Rippin’. Had an idea you would like it all along,” replied Reggie,
complacently, as he favored his sister with a brotherly embrace. “You
look perfectly stunning, you know. I say,” he added thoughtfully, “did
you see old Jim, hidin’ over here in his corner? I take it your neglect
is not intentional? No feud or the like, is there?”
“Oh, Reggie, don’t be so silly,” said Mabel, flushing a little as she
went over to Jim. “I just didn’t see him at first, that’s all.”
She held out her hand and Jim squeezed it heartily. There was a dumb
suffering in his eyes that tugged at her heart. If she could only tell
him something about Clara, something reassuring and heartening!
Mabel was in the midst of a laughing recital of her shopping tour when
the telephone rang and Joe, answering it, found that McRae was in the
hotel lobby waiting to speak to him. Reluctantly Joe excused himself,
while Mabel disappeared into the other room to get ready for dinner.
Reggie, left alone with Jim, turned his quizzical gaze upon the latter.
It was evident that Reggie was very much puzzled by Jim’s strange
behavior. And when Reggie scented a mystery he headed straight for the
solution of it with a doggedness worthy of a better cause.
“Hard luck the team’s been runnin’ in lately, old chap?” he began.
“No hard luck about it. Bad playing. Bad team work,” snapped Jim.
“Well, you shouldn’t worry, anyway, old chap, you really shouldn’t,”
reproved Reggie, mildly. “Bad for the game you know, and bad for the
good old constitution.”
Jim looked at him, a slow anger in his eyes.
“If I never had anything worse than my constitution to worry about, I’d
be all right,” he said, and turned his back upon Reggie, hoping that
such action would terminate the conversation. But Reggie, in sublime
ignorance, blundered on.
“I say, Jim, I’ve got it now. Worried because Clara couldn’t come on
with Mabel, eh? No doubt she wanted to come--rather. I say, old chap,”
he added, archly, lighting another gold-tipped cigarette, “better tend
to your knittin’.”
Jim, who had risen and was moodily pacing up and down, stopped and
looked at Reggie.
“What’s that?”
The quiet of his tone disarmed Reggie, who went on beaming pleasantly.
“Why, that millionaire who is hangin’ around Clara, you know. Mabel
has told you, hasn’t she? Have I spilled the beans, Jim--let the jolly
old cat out of the bag, and all that? Frightfully sorry. I thought you
knew----”
Reggie’s explanations and excuses wavered into silence before the
expression on Jim’s face. At that moment he thought of nothing but
escape, and with a few muttered phrases about “huntin’ up Joe,”
blundered from the room, leaving Jim to his furious thoughts.
When, a few moments later, the door opened to admit Joe, Jim turned
upon him, all the pent-up worry and nerve strain of the last few weeks
finding vent in a flood of words.
“I knew you and Mabel were holding something back all the time, Joe.
I’ve known from Clara’s letters, for a long time, that something was
wrong. If you’re a friend of mine and have any regard for me, tell me
about this millionaire who is hanging around Clara.”
“Has Reggie----”
“Yes, Reggie has!” retorted Jim, grimly. “Go ahead, Joe, and tell me
the truth.”
Seeing that there was nothing for it, Joe told all he knew about Jim’s
rival, glossing over the details and making as light of the whole thing
as possible.
“So that’s that!” said Jim, quietly, when Joe’s explanation had
stumbled into silence. “The end of everything!”
Joe, feeling deeply for his chum but powerless to comfort him, said,
with a forced cheerfulness, “All this probably sounds a hundred times
worse than it really is, Jim. When you go down there----”
“If she wants to marry for money, let her!” interrupted Jim, with sudden
ferocity. “Do you suppose I’d deprive her of her pet millionaire? Not
much!”