Lefty Locke Pitcher-Manager

CHAPTER XXXI

LIGHT ON A DARK SPOT

Janet returned from the matinée in a state of great excitement. “She’s here!” she cried, bursting in on Lefty. “You were right about it! I’ve seen her!”

The southpaw gazed in surprise at the flushed face of his charming wife. “You mean–”

“Virginia! I tell you I’ve seen her!”

“When? Where?”

“As we were leaving the theater. The lobby was crowded, and we were in the back of the jam. Suddenly I saw her over the heads of the people. She was just getting into an auto that was occupied by a handsome woman with snow-white hair. I wasn’t mistaken; it was Virginia. I couldn’t get to her. I tried to call to her, but she didn’t hear me. I’ll never say you were mistaken again, Lefty. Somehow you seem always to be right.”

Locke scarcely heard these final words. He was thinking rapidly. A sudden ray of hope had struck upon him. Confound it! Where was Stillman? He sprang to the telephone and called the Blade office again.

“Jack is the one best bet in this emergency,” he said, as he waited for the connections to be made.

He got the reporter on the wire, and Stillman stated that he had not been in the office ten minutes, and was about to call Lefty. Could he come up to the Great Eastern right away? Sure.

The feeling of depression and helplessness that had threatened to crush Locke began to fall away. The door he had sought, the one door by which there seemed any chance of passing on to success, appeared to be almost within reach of his hand. In her excitement at the theater, Janet had not possessed the presence of mind to call the attention of her friends to the snowy-haired woman, but he knew that she could describe her with some minuteness.

“Stillman knows everybody,” Lefty said. “It may be clew enough for him.”

There was a rap on the door. A messenger boy appeared with a telegram. Locke ripped it open and read:

Jones sick. Team busted. I’m busted. Signal of distress. How about that five hundred? I knead the dough. Don’t shoot! Wire cash. Wiley.

“Trouble in another quarter,” muttered Lefty, handing the message over to Janet. “How am I going to send him that money? I can’t force Weegman to do it. Wiley has a right to demand it. If I don’t come across, he’ll have a right to call the deal off.”

“But Jones is sick,” said Janet.

“Still it was a square bargain, and I mean to stand by it. Jones is sick. He was sick that day in Vienna; that was what ailed him. He showed flashes of form when he braced up, but he was too ill to brace up long. I’ve wondered what was the explanation, now I have it. Get him on his feet again, and he’ll be all right. I’ve got to hold my grip on Jones somehow.”

Kennedy and Stillman appeared at the Great Eastern together. First, Lefty showed them the message from Cap’n Wiley. Over it the former manager screwed up his face, casting a sharp look at his successor.

“If you can trust this Wiley,” he said, “send him two hundred, and tell him to bring Jones north as soon as Jones can travel. Don’t worry. Wiley’s outfit didn’t come under the national agreement, and Jones’ name on a Stockings contract ties him up.”

“But without drawing money from the club I haven’t the two hundred to spare now. I can’t draw.”

“I’ll fix that. I’ve got two hundred or more that you can borrow. After the training season opens, you’ll pretty soon find out whether or not you’ve picked a dill pickle in your dummy pitcher.”

Janet told Stillman about seeing Virginia Collier, and gave him a fairly minute description of the woman Virginia was with. The reporter smoked a cigarette, and considered.

“I think I can find that lady with the snow-white hair,” he said, after a time. “Leave it to me. You’ll hear from me just as soon as I have something to tell.”

With a promising air of confidence, he took his departure, leaving Kennedy and Locke to attend to the matter of Wiley and Mysterious Jones. Of course, the southpaw told the old manager all about Skullen’s attempt at revenge, but he did not do so within the hearing of Janet, whom he did not care to alarm. The veteran chuckled over the result of the encounter in the back room of Mike’s saloon.

“Right from the first,” he said, “you was picked for something soft and easy. I knew you was a fighter, son, but Weegman and his gang didn’t know it. Mebbe they’ll begin to guess the fact pretty soon.”

A few minutes after eight that evening, Stillman returned to the hotel and found Locke waiting with what patience he could command. The reporter wore a smile, but he declined to answer questions.

“Mrs. James A. Vanderpool’s private car is waiting for us at the door,” he said. “Bring Mrs. Hazelton, Lefty. We’re going to make a call.”

“Mrs. Vanderpool? The widow of the traction magnate? Why, what–”

“Now don’t waste time! Somebody else can gratify your curiosity a great deal better than I. In fact, I know so little about the facts at the bottom of this queer business that any explanations I’d make would be likely to ball things up.”

The magnificent residence of the late James Vanderpool was on upper Fifth Avenue. They were ushered into a splendid reception room. In a few minutes an aristocratic-looking woman with white hair entered, her appearance bringing an involuntary exclamation to Janet’s lips.

“It’s the very one!” she breathed excitedly, her fingers gripping Lefty’s arm. Stillman introduced them to Mrs. Vanderpool, who met them graciously.

“Virginia will be down in a minute or two,” said the lady. “For reasons, she has been staying with me since she returned from abroad. I’ll let her tell you about it.” She regarded Locke with frank interest, yet in a manner that was not at all embarrassing, for it plainly contained a great deal of friendliness. “Virginia has told me much about you,” she stated. “It has never before been my good fortune to meet a professional baseball player. My niece is very fond of Mrs. Hazelton.”

“Your niece!” exclaimed Lefty.

“Virginia is my niece, although I have scarcely seen her since she was a very small child. Here she is now.”

Virginia ran, laughing, to meet Janet. After the manner of girl friends, they hugged and kissed each other.

“Really,” said Virginia, “I should give you a good shaking for not answering all my letters!”

“Your letters!” cried Janet. “I’ve received only two letters from you in goodness knows how long! I answered them; and wrote you a dozen to which I got not a word of reply.”

They gazed at each other in blank uncertainty for a minute or two, and every trace of laughter died from Miss Collier’s face. Her blue eyes began to flash.

“Then,” she said, “our letters were intercepted. I can’t remember whether I posted any of mine or not, but I was so worried over father that it is doubtful if I did. I let my maid attend to that. She nearly always brought the mail to me, too. When I obtained positive proof that she was dishonest, I discharged her. Even now it’s hard to believe she was so treacherous.”

“But why should she intercept our letters? I don’t understand, Virginia.”

“There has been a dreadful plot to ruin my father. You’ll hardly believe it when I tell you. I find it difficult to believe, even now.” She shivered, some of the color leaving her face. “It was necessary to cut us off from any true information of what was happening to his business interests. Letters from you might have given me an inkling, Janet, and so they were secured and destroyed before they ever reached my hands. Other letters met the same fate. Mr. Weegman declared he wrote several which I know my father never got.”

“Weegman!” exclaimed Locke incredulously. “Why, he–”

“Doctor Dalmers warned Mr. Weegman that father must not be disturbed or excited in the least over business matters. He said such a thing might have a fatal effect on his heart. Still Weegman says he wrote guardedly several times, mildly hinting that things were not going right.”

“The liar!” whispered Lefty to himself.

A bit in the background, Jack Stillman was listening with keen interest, thinking what a sensational special article the truth regarding this affair would make.

“We were surrounded by wretches who had no compunction,” declared Virginia Collier. “It was I who first suspected them. My father was too ill, and the doctor kept him under opiates almost all the time, so that his mind was dulled. After I discharged Annette I became suspicious of the nurse. I spoke to Doctor Dalmers about her, but he insisted that she was all right. He insisted too earnestly. I began to watch him without letting him realize I was doing so. Once or twice I found a chance to change father’s medicine for harmless powders and clear water, and it seemed to me that he was better than when he took the medicine. He was very weak and ill, but his mind seemed clearer. I kept the medicine away from him for two days in succession, and got an opportunity to talk to him alone. I succeeded in convincing him that the change of climate, the baths, and the stuff the doctor had given him were doing him no good at all. In London there was a physician whom he knew and in whom he had confidence, Doctor Robert Fitzgerald. I urged him to go to Doctor Fitzgerald, but not to tell Doctor Dalmers of his intention, and I begged him to refuse to take any more of Doctor Dalmers’ medicine. We were in Luchon, and all the way to London I had to watch like a hawk to keep that medicine from father, but I succeeded, although I became extremely unpopular with Doctor Dalmers. The minute we reached London, I went to Doctor Fitzgerald and told him all that I suspected. Although he could not believe such a thing possible, he accompanied me at once to our hotel. Doctor Dalmers was taken by surprise, for he had not anticipated this move. When I discharged both him and the nurse, he gave me a terrible look. Of course, I could not have carried this through, had not Doctor Fitzgerald been a close friend of my father. Dalmers called Fitzgerald’s action unprofessional, and made threats, but we got rid of him.”

Despite the fact that she was such a mere slip of a girl, it was evident that she possessed brains and the courage and resourcefulness to use them. Mrs. Vanderpool seemed very proud of her. Lefty expressed his admiration.

“I knew,” Virginia continued, “that there must be something behind such a plot. I did not believe Dalmers had put it through merely to bleed my father while keeping him ill. I was worried over the fact that we knew so very little concerning how father’s affairs were going over here. What information we could get by cable or otherwise might be unsatisfactory. So I determined to come home and investigate for myself. I got father’s consent, and I left him in Doctor Fitzgerald’s care. I intended to sail by the Victoria, but there was a misunderstanding about accommodations, and I was forced to take a later ship. I find father’s affairs involved, and I’ve sent a statement of conditions as they appear to be.

“Of course,” she concluded, smiling a little, “I was greatly relieved to learn from Mr. Weegman that he felt sure he had blocked the contemptible efforts to smash the Blue Stockings. He felt highly elated over signing Lefty Locke as manager.”

“Miss Collier,” said the pitcher, “did Weegman offer an explanation of the raid on the team? Did he say who was at the bottom of it?”

Instantly a little cloud came to her face, and an expression of regret appeared in her eyes. “Yes,” she answered. “He told me. At first I could not believe it.”

Stillman leaned forward, listening, his lips slightly parted. Locke turned toward him, but turned back quickly, with another question on his lips. Virginia was speaking again, however.

“I can scarcely believe it now,” she said sadly. “It seems too utterly impossible! I can’t imagine any one being such a scoundrel–much less him! But Weegman has made sure; he has the proof. Of course, he has told you all about it, Lefty; it was necessary that you should know.” Her manner had grown deeply dejected.

“What did Weegman tell you?” asked the southpaw. “Who did he say was responsible for what had happened to the Blue Stockings?”

With an effort the girl answered: “Franklin Parlmee!”

CHAPTER XXXII

ONE CHANCE

It was like a staggering blow. While it confirmed Stillman’s theory that Parlmee was the chief rascal of the conspiracy, it shattered the supposition that Weegman, a blind dupe, wholly unaware of the truth, was being cleverly manipulated as an unconscious tool. The foundation of that hypothesis melted away like sand before hydrolytic force.

Locke turned again and looked at the reporter. The latter, standing like an image of stone, was staring questioningly and incredulously at Virginia Collier. He, too, realized that this confirmation of his belief had brought a portion of the postulation fluttering down like a house of cards, and he was seeking a mental readjustment.

Janet, frozen with lips slightly parted and eyes wide, was aware of it also. She was about to speak impulsively when Lefty detected her and made a repressing gesture.

Miss Collier felt that she knew the reason for the sudden silence that had fallen on every one, and a faint flush crept back into her cheeks. She appeared to be humiliated and ashamed, as well as sorrowful.

“I understand,” she said, in a low tone, “how it must seem to you to hear me say such a thing about Mr. Parlmee. I have trusted him. I believed in him, even when my father was losing faith and confidence. I clung to my own faith, and it hasn’t been easy to abandon it, even in the face of proof. My conscience or something taunts me occasionally. I–I’ve cried over it, and I’ve fought against it. I haven’t dared see him since my return–since I found out the truth–for I knew I should listen to him and believe in him in spite of everything. I wanted to face him and accuse him, but Weegman persuaded me to wait. He said it would merely hasten the crash if we let the scoundrels know they were suspected.”

“The scoundrels!” exclaimed Locke. “Then he told you that more than one was concerned?”

“He claims that a man named Garrity is operating in conjunction with Franklin Parlmee.”

Another staggerer. To Virginia, Weegman had accused Garrity. Mutely the southpaw appealed to Stillman. The reporter’s forehead was puckered in a puzzled manner; he caught Lefty’s glance, and shook his head slowly.

“When did he name Garrity, Miss Collier?” he asked.

“When he called on me to-day–this afternoon,” was the answer. “He has been at work trying to get at the truth.”

Locke improved the opportunity to whisper in Janet’s ear: “Keep still! Don’t say a word–now.”

Although she did not understand why he wished her to keep silent, she nodded. He had been right in other matters; it was best to let him have his way in this.

“My niece has been very much upset,” said Mrs. Vanderpool. “It has practically made her ill. She hasn’t felt much like seeing people, and therefore Mr. Weegman’s advice to keep quiet was easy to follow.”

Weegman had urged Virginia to remain in obscurity, not to let her friends know she was in New York; that was evident. He had convinced her that by doing so she could best assist him in his pretended task of trapping the conspirators. And while she kept quiet, those conspirators were hastening to carry through the work they had planned.

“Miss Collier,” said Lefty, “do you think it would be possible for your father to come home at once? Do you think he is strong enough to stand the voyage? If he can do so, he had better come. He should be here now.”

“I don’t know,” she replied.

“Give me his address and let me communicate with him,” Locke urged. “He should know something of the truth, at least.”

Virginia was persuaded, for Mrs. Vanderpool agreed that it was the best course to pursue. The southpaw was elated; he felt that at last he was getting a grip that would enable him to accomplish something. If he could baffle the rascals now, it would be a feat worth while.

Mrs. Vanderpool was called away to the telephone.

“Auntie has been very kind to me, in spite of her quarrel with father,” said Virginia, when the lady had left the room. “They have not spoken to each other for years. It is so ridiculous, so childish, for a brother and sister who have been devoted! Both are stubborn. And yet Aunt Elizabeth is the kindest, gentlest woman in the world. She lost an only daughter, and she says I seem to fill the vacant place. She has made me feel very much at home.”

Then she began chatting with Janet about things of mutual interest. Locke joined Stillman, who had walked to the far end of the room.

“This Weegman is either a fool or much cleverer than we thought him,” said the reporter swiftly, in a low tone. “I don’t believe he’s a fool.”

“How have you figured it out?” Lefty questioned. “It was a mistake to think him not wise to Parlmee. And why, if he is hand in glove with Garrity, did he tell her that Garrity was concerned in the miserable business?”

“He told her that to-day?”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t he tell her before? Weegman is in town. Have you seen him?”

The pitcher told of his meeting with both Weegman and Garrity, and how he had defied them. Stillman’s face cleared a little.

“Look here, Locke, that fellow Weegman will double cross any one. You put him next to the fact that you were wise to Garrity. The whole bunch must know that Collier has fired his crooked doctor. Of course, Dalmers notified them. After talking with you, Weegman began to realize that the whole plot might fall through. He lost no time in beginning to hedge his bets. He’s trying to fix it so that he’ll fall safe if the business blows up.”

“But why did he tell her of Parlmee? We thought he didn’t know about that.”

“I’m not as sure about Parlmee as I was,” admitted the reporter frankly. “Weegman has been trying to blacken him to her right along. I’ll own up now that it was an anonymous communication that first put me on the track of Parlmee. There have been others of the same sort tending to incriminate him. I’ve wondered where they came from. Now I think I know. Weegman is the answer.”

“By Jove!” exclaimed Lefty. “You believe it was he who directed suspicion toward Parlmee in the first place?”

“You’ve got me. That being the case, instead of being a dupe, this Weegman has put something over that we didn’t suspect him of. He’s after Collier’s daughter, and it would help him if he could turn her against his rival.”

Locke’s face cleared. His relief was evident.

“This is all speculation,” said the reporter hastily. “Don’t be too quick to accept it as a settled fact. Parlmee’s behavior has been suspicious enough to require some explaining from him. Perhaps he can clear it up. We know Weegman has tried to put the Blue Stockings on the blink, and we’re dead certain he hasn’t knowingly done so as the assistant of Parlmee. Now how do you figure on that?”

“Parlmee’s innocent, as I fancied. Weegman is the chief rascal.”

Stillman smiled. “In which case he’s beginning to find himself caught in a quicksand, and he’s trying to save himself by climbing out over his pal, Garrity. He’ll swear he had no finger in it. Garrity won’t dare accuse Weegman of being an accomplice, for by doing that he would acknowledge that there was a conspiracy. Weegman is in no danger in that direction of anything further than such private revenge as Garrity may seek to take.”

Lefty turned back and approached Virginia and Janet, addressing the former:

“Miss Collier, I want you to promise me that, for the present, at least, you’ll say nothing to Bailey Weegman about having seen and talked with me.”

The girl looked surprised. “I was just proposing that Janet should leave the hotel and stay here with me. I know my aunt will approve.”

“I approve anything you may wish, my dear,” said Mrs. Vanderpool, reëntering the room. “It would give me great pleasure to have Mrs. Hazelton visit us and remain as long as possible.”