"Now see here! There'll be no fighting on these premises," declared the hotel proprietor, with conviction.

"No, we'll do it outside," growled the man.

"Not with me. I don't intend to fight you," said Joe as quietly as he could.

"Huh! Afraid; eh?"

"No, not afraid."

"Well, you're a coward and a----"

"That will do, Wessel. Get out!" and the proprietor's voice left no room for argument. The man slunk away, giving Joe a surly look, and then the supper bill was paid, and receipted.

"Who was he?" asked Joe, when the fellow was out of sight.

"Oh, I don't know any good of him," replied the hotel man. "He's been hanging around town ever since the ball season closed."

"Is he a player?" Joe inquired.

"No. I'm inclined to think he's a gambler. I know he was always wanting to make bets on the games around here, but no one paid much attention to him. You don't know him; do you?"

"Never saw him before, as far as I recollect," returned Joe slowly. "I wonder why he wanted to pick a quarrel with me? For that was certainly his object."

"It was," agreed Reggie, "and he didn't pay much attention to you until he heard your name."

"I wonder if he could be----?" began Joe, and then he hesitated in his half-formed question. Reggie looked at his friend inquiringly, but Joe did not proceed.

"Don't say anything about this to the girls," requested Joe, as they went upstairs.

"Oh, no, of course not," agreed Reggie. "He was only some loafer, I expect, who had a sore head. Best to keep it quiet."

Joe was more upset by the incident than he liked to admit. He could not understand the man's motive in trying so hard to force him into a fight.

"Not that I would be afraid," reasoned Joe, for he was in good condition, and in splendid fighting trim, due to his clean living and his outdoor playing. "I think I could have held my own with him," he thought, "only I don't believe in fighting, if it can be avoided.

"But there was certainly something more than a little quarrel back of it all. Wessel is his name; eh? I must remember that."

Joe made a mental note of it, but he little realized that he was to hear the name again under rather strange circ.u.mstances.

"What's the matter?" asked Mabel, on the way home in the sleigh, drawn by the prancing horses with their jingling bells.

"Why?" parried Joe.

"You are so quiet."

"Well--I didn't count on so much happening to-night."

"You mean about that little pin? I think it's awfully sweet."

"Did you help pick it out?" asked Joe, seeing a chance to turn the conversation.

"Yes. Reggie asked me what I thought would be nice, and I chose that."

"Couldn't have been better," declared Joe, with enthusiasm. "I shall always keep it!"

They rode on, but Joe could not shake off the mood that had seized him.

He could not forget the look and words of the man who endeavored to force a quarrel with him--for what object Joe could only guess.

"I'm sure there's something the matter," insisted Mabel, when the song "Jingle Bells!" had died away. "Have I done anything to displease you?"

she asked, for she had "split" one dance with Charlie Hall.

"No, indeed!" cried Joe, glad that he could put emphasis into his denial. "There's nothing really the matter."

"Unless you're sorry you're going away out to Missouri," persisted the girl.

"Well, I am sorry--that is, if I really have to go," spoke the young ball player sincerely. "Of course it isn't at all certain that I will go."

"Oh, I guess it's certain enough," she said. "And I really hope you do go."

"It's pretty far off," said Joe. "I'll have to make my headquarters in St. Louis."

"Reggie and I expect to be in the West a good part of the coming Summer," went on Mabel, in even tones. "It's barely possible that Reggie may make his business headquarters in St. Louis, for papa's trade is shifting out that way."

"You don't mean it!" cried Joe, and some of his companions in the sleigh wondered at the warmth of his tone.

"Oh, yes, I do," said Mabel. "So I shall see you play now and then; for I'm as ardent a 'fan' as I ever was."

"That's good," returned Joe. "I'm glad I'm going to a major league--that is, if they draft me," he added quickly. "I didn't know you might be out there."

From then on the thought of going to St. Louis was more pleasant to Joe.

The sleigh ride was a great success in every particular. The young people reached home rather late--or, rather early in the morning, happy and not too tired.

"It was fine; wasn't it?" whispered Clara, as she and her brother tip-toed their way into the house, so as not to awaken their parents.

"Dandy!" he answered softly.

"Weren't you surprised about the pin?"

"Of course I was."

"But you don't seem exactly happy. Is something worrying you? I heard Mabel ask you the same thing."

"Did you?" inquired Joe, non-committally.

"Yes. Is anything the matter?"

"No, Sis. Get to bed. It's late."