ALL WRONG
When Locke reached Fernandon, he found, as he expected, a furious message
from Weegman awaiting him. In it he was savagely reprimanded, and warned
under no circumstances to make any further deals without consulting
Collier's private secretary. He was also commanded to report at the
office of the Blue Stockings baseball club without unnecessary delay.
Lefty merely smiled over this, but he did not smile over a long telegram
from Franklin Parlmee, stating that he had not seen Virginia Collier
nor heard anything further from her. Parlmee averred that he could not
believe Virginia was in New York; he expressed the conviction that Locke
had not seen her in the limousine with Bailey Weegman, but had been
deceived by a resemblance. But if she were not in New York, where was
she? And why had he received no word from her?
Janet watched Lefty frowning and biting his lip over Parlmee's message.
Her own face showed the anxiety she felt.
"What do you think?" she asked. "It doesn't seem possible that
Virginia could have been with that man, as you thought. You must have
been mistaken."
He shook his head. "I'm positive, Janet. I would be willing to wager
anything that I made no mistake."
"Then what does it mean? I can't imagine Virginia being in New York
without letting Frank know."
"It's got me guessing," Locke admitted. "There's a snarl that needs
to be untangled."
She grabbed his arm. "You don't suppose--"
"What?" he asked, as she hesitated.
"You don't suppose anything terrible could have happened to Virginia?
Perhaps that villain has carried her off--shut her up somewhere! Perhaps
she is helpless in his power this minute. He may be trying to force her
into marrying him."
Lefty laughed. "That sounds too much like a dime novel, my dear.
Scoundrel though he is, Weegman would scarcely have the nerve to try
anything like that with the daughter of Charles Collier. That's not the
answer."
"But something's wrong," insisted Janet.
"No doubt about that," her husband replied. "A lot of things seem to
be wrong. Somebody is dealing the cards under the table."
"I know," said Janet, "that Virginia didn't care for Mr. Weegman, and
the more her father sought to influence her the less she thought of him.
She was proud of Franklin because he had proved his business ability, and
she thought Mr. Collier would give in soon. But I can't understand why
she stopped writing to me. She hasn't written since arriving on this
side."
"We're not getting anywhere by speculating like this," said Lefty.
"Can you be ready to go North with me to-morrow?"
"You are going back so soon?"
"Just as soon as we can start. I'm thinking I ought to have remained
there. I only came South at all in order to make sure of Mysterious
Jones, and now it looks as though I wasted both time and money by doing
so. Perhaps I would have been better off if Skullen had succeeded in
getting Jones away from me."
"But the cottage--our lease runs another full month."
"It can't be helped. We'll have to pay the rental and give it up."
"And your arm--you thought another month down here might give you time
to work it back into condition."
"I've got plenty to worry about besides my arm. I've been told plainly
that I've been picked to be the goat by a set of scoundrels who are
trying to put over a dirty piece of work, and, if I fool them, I'll
have to do it with my head, not my arm. I'm going to stake everything
on my ability to put the kibosh on their crooked game, and to stand any
chance of succeeding I must be on the field of battle. So we must leave
Fernandon to-morrow, my dear."
To accomplish this necessitated no small amount of hustling, but Janet
did her part. With the assistance of her maid and a colored man, the
work was speedily done. There were tears in Janet's eyes when she looked
back at the deserted little cottage, as they drove away in a carriage to
catch the train.
"It has been pleasant here," she said. "I'll never forget it. We
were so quiet and so happy. Now, somehow, I have a feeling that there's
nothing but trouble ahead of us. You've taken a big contract, Phil."
"Are you afraid?" he asked.
She looked up at him and smiled proudly. "Not a bit. You are not the
sort of man who fails. I know you'll win out."
His cheeks glowed and a light leaped into his eyes. "After hearing you
say that, I couldn't fail, Janet, dear," he said quietly but earnestly.
"It's going to be some fight, but let it come--I'm ready."
The journey northward was uneventful. Locke had wired both Kennedy and
Parlmee when he would arrive in New York, asking them to meet him at
the Great Eastern. He did not stop off at the home town of the Blue
Stockings, choosing to disregard for the present Weegman's imperative
order for him to report at once at the office of the club. By mail
he had formally notified the secretary of the club of the trade with
Frazer and the purchase of Mysterious Jones, directing that checks be
sent immediately to the manager of the Wolves and to Cap'n Wiley. He
had done this as a matter of formality, but he felt sure that Weegman
would interfere and hold up the payments, even though they could, sooner
or later, be legally enforced. Delay matters as he might, the rascal
could not bring about the repudiation of business deals entered into
by the properly authorized manager of the team. Locke hoped to have the
situation well in hand before he should find it necessary to beard the
lion in all his fury. The showdown must come before long, but ere that
time the southpaw hoped to fill his hand on the draw.
When he had sent out the players' contracts from Indianapolis he had
instructed the men, after signing, to mail them directly to him in New
York. He had made this request emphatic, warning each man not to return
his signed contract to the office of the Blue Stockings. He had Kennedy
to thank for suggesting this procedure.
"If the contracts go back to the club office," old Jack had said,
"Weegman may get hold of them and hold out on you. That would leave you
in the dark; you wouldn't know who had signed up and who hadn't, and
so you couldn't tell where you stood. It would keep you muddled so you
wouldn't know what holes were left to be plugged. If you undertook
to find out how the land lay by wiring inquiries to the players, you'd
make them uneasy, and set them wondering what was doing. Some of them
might even try belated dickering with the Feds, and, while you could hold
them by law, it would complicate things still more. If the newspapers
got wise and printed things, the stock of the club would slump still
more, which would help the dirty bunch that's trying to knock the bottom
out of it."
Beyond question, Kennedy was foxy and farseeing, and Locke looked forward
expectantly to another heart-to-heart talk with the old man at the Great
Eastern.
A big bundle of mail was delivered to Lefty after he registered at the
hotel. Immediately on reaching his rooms he made haste to open the
letters.
"Look, Janet!" he cried exultantly, after he had torn open envelope
after envelope. "Here are the contracts--Grant, Welsh, Hyland, Savage,
Dillon, Reilley, and Lumley all have signed, as well as the youngsters
who didn't attract special attention from the Feds. Not a man lost
that the outlaws hadn't gobbled up before Weegman so kindly forced the
management upon me. We've got the makings of a real team left. Some of
the deadwood has been cleared away, that's all."
With scarcely an exception, the players had sent, along with their
contracts, brief, friendly letters congratulating Locke and expressing
confidence in his ability to manage the Blue Stockings successfully.
He had won the regard of them all; in some cases that regard fell little
short of genuine affection. With him as their leader they would fight
with fresh spirit and loyalty.
"It's fine, Lefty!" exclaimed Janet, as she read some of those cheery
letters. "There was a time when I could not have believed professional
ball players were such a fine lot of men."
"I might have had some doubts myself before I was associated with
them," he admitted; "but experience has taught me that they measure
up in manhood as well as any other class. Of course, black sheep may be
found in every business."
As he spoke, he hurriedly opened a letter that had just attracted his
attention among those remaining. He read it aloud:
MY DEAR HAZELTON: I am writing in haste before sailing for
Liverpool on the _Northumberland_. As I thought, you were
wrong about having seen Virginia in New York. She is in
London, and in trouble. I've had a cablegram from her which,
however, explains very little. She needs me, and I am going to
her at once. If you should wish to communicate with me, my
address will be the Cecil. As I know that both you and Mrs.
Hazelton feel some anxiety about Virginia, I shall let you
hear from me as soon as I have any news.
Wishing you the success and good fortune you deserve as a
baseball manager, I remain, sincerely yours,
FRANKLIN PARLMEE.
When he had finished reading, he stood staring at the letter in surprise.