HIDDEN TRACKS
His lips parted, his eyes wide and incredulous, Locke sat up straight
on his chair and stared at Stillman. Janet, who had been listening
attentively, gave a little cry, and leaned forward, one slim, protesting
hand uplifted. The reporter drew his case from his pocket and lit another
cigarette.
Presently Lefty found his voice. "You're crazy, Jack!" he declared
resentfully.
"Am I?" inquired Stillman.
"Oh, it's impossible!" exclaimed Janet.
"Absolutely ridiculous!" affirmed the southpaw.
"Very likely it seems so to you both," admitted the newspaper man, his
calm and confident manner proclaiming his own settled conviction. "I
listened to Lefty's story, and I know he's wise to only a small part
of what's been going on."
"But Parlmee--Oh, it's too preposterous! For once in your career, at
least, you're way off your trolley, Jack."
"Prove it to me."
"Why, it isn't necessary. Franklin Parlmee is a white man, as square
as there ever was, and as honest as the day is long."
"There are short days in midwinter."
"But his object--he couldn't have an object, even if he were scoundrel
enough to contemplate such a thing."
"Couldn't he?" asked Stillman, in that odd, enigmatical way of his.
"Why not?"
"Why, he's practically engaged to Virginia Collier."
"But without the consent of her father."
"Yes, but--"
"Bailey Weegman is said to have a great liking for Miss Collier. It
was your theory that part of his object in seeking to wreck the Blue
Stockings was to get old man Collier in a tight place and force his hand.
Why couldn't Parlmee make the same sort of a play?"
The persistence of the reporter began to irritate Locke, who felt his
blood growing hot. Was his life beginning to tell on Stillman? Was it
possible the pace he had traveled had begun to weaken his naturally keen
judgment?
"Even if Parlmee had conceived such a foolish scheme, he was in no
position to carry it out, Jack. On the other hand, Weegman was.
Furthermore, it's perfectly impossible to imagine Weegman acting as
the tool and assistant of his rival, whom he hates bitterly. Forget it!"
Unmoved, Stillman shook his head. "Didn't I say that Weegman was an
egotistical dub, and an easy mark? He is naturally a rascal, and he
thinks himself very clever, and so is just the sort to fall for a still
cleverer rascal."
Janet's cheeks were hot and her eyes full of resentful anger. It was
difficult for her to sit there and hear Parlmee maligned, and she was
confident that that was what she was doing. She could not remain quiet.
"I know Frank Parlmee, Mr. Stillman," she asserted, "and Lefty is
right about him. There's not a squarer man living."
"How is it possible for Parlmee to use Weegman as a tool?" asked Locke.
"Through Garrity," answered the reporter without hesitation.
"But I don't see--"
Stillman leaned forward. "Listen: I am not at liberty to disclose
the sources of my information, but it has come to me that this idea
of wrecking the Blue Stockings originated in Parlmee's brain. He
saw himself losing out in the fight for Virginia Collier, and he became
desperate. Conditions were ripe. Collier had hit the toboggan,
financially and otherwise. A man of considerable strength of will, he
had begun to break down. Parlmee knew of his plan to go abroad for his
health, and of the arrangement to leave Bailey Weegman in charge of
affairs. Collier had a great deal of confidence in Weegman's ability,
and this would now be put to the test. If Weegman should make a grand
failure, as Parlmee intended he should, Collier would lose all faith
in him; and probably, in his disappointment, he would hand him the g.b.
That, above all things, was most to be desired by Parlmee, as it
would get out of the way the rival who threatened to defeat him. How
to put the thing across was the question. I am willing to give
Parlmee the credit of a long-headed piece of work. He knew Weegman
must be kept in the dark, must never be permitted to suspect that he was
being used as a tool by his hated enemy."
"It sounds altogether too impossible," said Locke. But, to his
annoyance, in spite of his persistently expressed faith, a shadowy
uncertainty, a tiny, nagging doubt, was creeping into his mind. Stillman
seemed so absolutely confident of his ground.
"Through his long association with Miss Collier," the reporter
pursued calmly, "Parlmee had learned much about inside conditions in
baseball. He had plenty of opportunities to get at things entirely
hidden from, or merely suspected by, the general public. He knew
Garrity was a grasping scoundrel, who had long regarded the Blue
Stockings with a covetous eye, and that, being utterly unscrupulous,
he would do anything, as long as he could keep in the background, to
break Collier's grip and get his own soiled paws on the property.
Therefore, Garrity was the man to deal with, and to Garrity Parlmee
went. They met under cover in Chicago, and the deal was fixed up between
them. Then Garrity got at Weegman, the real stool pigeon and the fall
guy of the whole plot."
Locke was listening without protest now. In spite of his desire not to
believe, Stillman's theory seemed possible; he would not yet admit,
even to himself, that it was probable. Janet, too, was silent. The color
had left her face, and beneath the table her hands were tightly clenched.
"Weegman was just ass enough to fall for it," continued Stillman
contemptuously. "What Garrity promised him I can't say, but certainly
it must have been a satisfactory percentage of the loot--maybe an
interest in the team when Garrity got control; and Weegman would sell
his soul for money. The moment Collier was out of the way he got to
work. You know as well as I do what success he's had. In order to
cover his tracks as far as possible, he has picked you for the goat, and
he'll try to shunt all the blame on you."
Lefty's face was grim. He was endeavoring to look at the matter fairly
and without bias. To himself he was compelled to admit that his knowledge
of Parlmee had been obtained through casual association with the man,
not through business dealings, and in no small degree, he, as well as
Janet, had doubtless been influenced by the sentiments of Virginia
Collier. A girl in love may be easily deceived; many girls, blinded by
their own infatuation, have made heroes of thoroughbred scoundrels. It
was practically impossible, however, for Locke to picture Parlmee as
a scoundrel.
"You have made a statement, Jack," he said, "without offering a
particle of corroborating proof. How do you know all this to be true?"
"I have the word of a man I trust that Parlmee and Garrity had that
secret meeting in Chicago, just as I have stated. A few days ago Parlmee
made a flying trip to Indianapolis, and--"
"I know that," interrupted Lefty. "I was in Indianapolis at the time.
I met him there and had a brief talk with him."
"On his way back," resumed Stillman, "he stopped off at Cleveland to
see Garrity, who happened to be in that city."
"How do you know that?"
"My own business chanced to call me out to Cleveland at that time, and
I saw Parlmee and Garrity together at the American House."
Locke took a long breath, recalling the fact that Parlmee, although
professing to be in great haste when in Indianapolis, had not returned to
his New York office as soon as expected.
"That may have been an accidental meeting," said the southpaw. "Your
proof has holes in it."
The reporter lighted a fresh cigarette. "How does it happen," he
asked, "that Parlmee is buying up all the small blocks of the club
stock that he can get hold of?"
Lefty started as if pricked by the point of a knife. Parlmee, an
automobile salesman, a man who had found it necessary to get out and show
that he could make good in the business world, buying the stock of the
club!
"Is he?" asked the pitcher.
"He is," asserted Stillman positively. "I know of three lots that he
has purchased, and in each instance he has paid a little more than it
was supposed to be worth."
"He--he may have bought it as an investment," faltered Janet.
The reporter smiled at her. "As far as I can learn, Franklin Parlmee is
not situated, financially, to invest much money in stock of any kind.
With his stock depreciating, and bound to go lower in value, he would be
a chump to purchase it as an investment. The man who pays more than its
market value in order to get hold of it knows something about the doings
behind the scenes that is not known to the general public. Apparently
that man is Parlmee. Who's furnishing him the money to buy the stock?
My own guess is that it is the man who's looking to get control of the
club, and that man is Garrity."
Still Janet protested that it was impossible, but she looked
questioningly at Lefty, the doubt that she was fighting against was now
beginning to creep into her eyes.
"Parlmee," said the southpaw, "has gone to Europe. I have a message
from him stating that he would sail on the _Northumberland_. If he's
behind the plot to wreck the Blue Stockings, why should he leave the
field of action at this time?"
"If I've got his number," returned Stillman, "he's a liar in various
ways. Perhaps he has sailed for Europe; perhaps he hasn't. His message
may be nothing more than a little dust for your eyes. But if he has
sailed, there's only one answer to that."
"Out with it!" urged Locke. "Of course, you think it another move in
the rotten game?"
"Sure as death and taxes. He believes the time is ripe to get at
Collier. He's gone across to get at him and twist the control of the
club out of his hands. Probably he'll appear before Collier in the
guise of a friend anxious to save him from complete financial disaster.
He's got just about enough time to make the trip comfortably, get that
business through with, and return before the regular meeting of the
league magnates here in New York. Then, at the meeting, Tom Garrity will
bob up serenely as the real owner of the Blue Stockings."