Adventure Magazine, Mid-September 1917 — page 80: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

78 with an expression of childish shame, of which many a sick man might be guilty under similar circumstances. Jonesy did not even voice complaint when Miss Powell summoned a porter and had the bed moved back to its original place. He picked up the sporting pages but she took them out of his hand and told the porter to carry them to the basement. “T am going to get you well,’’ Miss Powell remarked quietly. ‘‘You’ve been thinking baseball ever since you’ve been here and it’s retarded your recovery. I’d think “you’d forget that old game—for me.” “How long do you really think it will be before I’m out,” Jonesy asked, stroking her hair with great industry. “If you forget all about baseball—ab- solutely evict it from your mind—it should be but afew days. That is,’ she amended, “you will be able to leave the hospital. I know you want to get out of here and I'll do my best to hurry things along.” “It’s not that I want to get out—just for the gettin’,” replied Jonesy coiling an arm around her neck. ‘“‘It’s—poke your face a little closer—it’s because I want you, little girl, and I want you as quick as I can get you. The very first day that I get my land- legs we'll shoot somebody over to the court- house for the passports and then drop in on Dr. Smalley.” He pondered for a moment, presently blurting: ““Golly Ned, I don’t like that preacher a little bit. But you know he’s the only one of his trade in town who doesn’t go to the ball game. Somethin’ tells me we are goin’ to stage this stunt on a day when we’re playin’ at home. “But it’s all right with you that way, - isn’t it, girlie?’”’ he whispered into her ear. He knew by the way her hair tickled him on the jaw that she was nodding, and Jonesy felt that he had cornered everything on the globe worth having. It was amazing how rapidly he improved and before long Jonesy and Miss Powell left the hospital to exercise the privileges granted in their State under a writ to wed. _ As they were passing a confectionery he pulled her by the arm and stopped in front of a crowd collected at the edge of the side- walk. Before them was a_ blackboard carrying baseball scores as the games of the day progressed. Adventure Jonesy’s face sparkled with surprise and pleasure. “What you think of that?” he said ex- citedly. ‘“Liveburg and Oakland have already played ten innings, nothing to nothing. Man a-live! “Brown and Griffin for Liveburg—Jor- don,and Daly for Oakland,” he read. There were some team standings and other statistics pasted to the window. Seeming to have forgotten Miss Powell, Jonesy began bolting down these into his baseball-hungry system. He noted that Brown and Jordon were tied for the best pitching in the league and he let out an- other exclamation. A man came out and gave another cipher to Oakland for the first of the eleventh. The little crowd at the edge of the side- walk yelled. Jonesy yelled with them. In the middle of the celebration he felt a mighty pull at his sleeve. Miss Powell looked up at him, a picture of despondency. He knew well enough what she wanted and squeezed her arm apologetically as they re- sumed their journey down the street. She said nothing until he turned around and walked backward to see if another mark had been made upon the blackboard. “Well!” Miss Powell almost choked. She stiffened into indignation. They were about to enter the minister’s door before Jonesy succeeded in getting her back to her normal humor. Sanaei | YOUNG woman,” said the minis- evga, ister half an hour later, “let me be “as% the first to wish you immeasurable happiness. And to you, young man, allow me to extend my sincerest congratulations. May your associations together ever be as wholesome as they are now and may they redound to the good of your fellowmen.” The minister followed them to the door. Jonesy pressed a bill into his hand and started to pass out. Then he stopped. “‘May I use your phone?” he asked. Dr. Smalley pointed to a corner. ‘“‘The book is hanging there,’’ he said. But Jonesy didn’t need a book. The number he wanted he remembered very well. In a scant minute he was given a connection. Tiptoeing stealthily to his side his former student-nurse bent close to the receiver and listened with all of the gall of one who knew she had that right. ‘“What’s the score?” she heard Jonesy ask. COMmiclasoo (©