Lefty Locke Pitcher-Manager

CHAPTER XXXIII

ONE IN A MILLION

The clerk of the Great Eastern surveyed with interest the swarthy small man in the bright green suit and the plaid raglan overcoat, who leaned an elbow on the desk and jauntily twirled a light cane, puffing at an excellent Havana cigar.

“Beyond a modicum of a doubt you have me, your excellency,” said the stranger. “I’m the real thing, the only and original Cap’n Wiley. It is frequently embarrassing to be encumbered by fame, and my modesty often compels me to travel incog-nit-o; but just now, having a yearning desire to hobnob with my old college chump, Lefty Locke, I am blushingly compelled to reveal my identity. When Lefty learns that I am here he will fly like a bird to greet me. Notify one of yon brass-buttoned minions to inform him of my immediate proximity.”

“Mr. Locke is out at present,” said the man behind the desk, winking slyly at a fellow clerk; “but if you will leave your card–”

“If one isn’t sufficient, I’ll leave the whole pack of fifty-two. It is my habit to carry a deck with me for emergencies. Perchance, however, you can tell me when Lefty is liable to return.”

At that moment Locke, coming in, saw the sailor, and hurried forward. The Marine Marvel teetered to meet him, beaming broadly. They shook hands, and Locke drew the sailor toward two vacant chairs.

“Jones?” questioned Lefty as they sat down. “Where is he? How is he?”

“He’s right here in this little old burg,” was the answer. “Nothing short of his demise could have prevented me from keeping my agreement to deliver him to you. He is on the mend, and it is probable that he’ll soon be as frisky and formidable as ever. But I have qualms. I fear greatly that something has happened to cause Jonesy to lose interest in baseball forever and for aye. Were I in his boots, I’d go on one long spree that would reach from here to Hongkong, and even farther. Hold your breath, Lefty, and hold it hard. Jones has come into a modest little fortune of two hundred and fifty thousand dollars or thereabouts.”

“Quite a joke!” said the pitcher.

“I don’t blame you for doubting me. In your place I’d have made a remark a shade more violent. But the seal of voracity is on my lips. I didn’t know it when I saw you last, but at that time he had practically sold his interest in his Alaska possessions. I have stated the sum he received for his share in that pretty bit of property.”

“Enough to keep him in pin money for some time,” replied Lefty, still skeptical.

“If he could be induced to use it for his own wants he could dodge becoming a pauper for quite a while. But, Lefty, you can’t guess what he’s going to do with it. Excuse me while I sigh. I have argued and pleaded until my fingers became tongue-tied; but I’ve failed to move him from his fixed determination. He is going to give every dollar of that money away!”

Of course, Locke thought that Wiley was drawing the long bow, as usual. “I hope he won’t overlook his friends when he passes it around,” he said, smiling.

“His friends won’t get a dollar!” declared Wiley. “He’s going to give it to his enemies.”

This was too much for the southpaw. “Let’s cut the comedy,” he urged.

The sailor gave him a chastening look. “It isn’t comedy; it’s tragedy, Lefty. He believes it his duty. He believes he is bound, as a man of honor, to do it. Listen and I will elucidate. Did you ever hear of the Central Yucatan Rubber Company?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Well, it was a fraudulent concern that flourished like a green bay tree some seven or eight years ago, and withered like a fragile plant when the government got after it for fraudulent use of the mails. Like many such grafting stock-selling companies, it had a dummy board of officers who appeared to be in control, while the real rogues who were harvesting the coin kept in the background. Jones was president of that company. He believed it to be on the level, and he had invested some of his own money–superficially all he had–in it. When the government got busy, Jones was indicted as the head of the concern. He was thought to be the originator of the scheme. The real crook had fixed it so that he seemed to be one of the innocent victims, and he helped swear Jones into prison. Jones got five years. He served his time.”

At last Locke was impressed. He had never seen Wiley so serious. For once, the flippant and superficial manner of the swarthy little man had been discarded; his flamboyant style of speech had been dropped. Ordinarily he gave one the impression that he was gleefully fabricating; now, of a sudden, the listener was convinced that he was hearing the naked truth. It explained the atmosphere of somber sadness, the appearance of brooding over a great injustice, which had infolded the mysterious dumb pitcher of the Wind Jammers. For Jones Lefty felt a throb of genuine sympathy.

“With the unclothed eye I can perceive that you get me,” the sailor continued. “You can imagine how you would feel if you had been sent to the jug for five years, as punishment for a crime perpetrated by somebody else. What if the one who concocted the scheme and benefited by it swore your liberty away and escaped scot-free himself?”

“It was monstrous!” exclaimed the pitcher.

“Precisely so. In prison Jones took a foolish oath. He registered a vow to pay back every dollar to those who had lost their good money in that fake rubber company. He didn’t know how he was going to do it, but he was determined that he would. In a way, they were his enemies, for they had helped prosecute him; the courts had adjudged him guilty, and he felt that he could never hold up his head as an honest man until those who had been defrauded got the last cent of coin back. In some way he must acquire a huge amount of filthy lucre, and acquire it honestly. He dreamed of gold mines. When the prison spat him forth he made his way up into Alaska. There his dream came true, for, with his partners, he located and developed a great mine. They could have sold out a dozen times, but never for a sum that would permit Jones to accomplish his purpose with his share of the price. So he held on. And at last a syndicate made an offer that was sufficient. Jones was notified by his partners. He accepted. But not until the deal was put through and he had the certified check for his interest in his clutches did he breathe a word of it to any one. Then he told me. He was sick, but his success helped cure him. He was eager to hurry North and set into action the machinery for distributing that money to the rubber company’s victims. At this very moment he is interviewing a reputable firm of lawyers and giving them instructions to proceed about the work. He can supply a full list of the persons defrauded. They’ll get back what they lost, and Jones will find himself poor again–but satisfied.”

Lefty’s eyes were shining. “In these days of the great American idea of grafting and fraud,” he said, “a man with a conscience like Jones’ is one in ten thousand.”

“Say, rather, one in a million, mate. I have reviled him extemporaneously. I have told him that he is a fool. I’m honest myself–when it’s absolutely necessary. But to part with a scandalous sum like two hundred and fifty thousand without being positively compelled to do so–oh, pardon me while I sob!”

“A man with such principles, and Jones’ ability to pitch, will not come to grief. He has a job before him with the Blue Stockings.”

Wiley shook his head. “Apprehension percheth upon me, Lefty. Jones has accomplished the great purpose of his life. It was what fired him and spurred him on. I regret to elucidate that since that money came to him he has displayed no interest whatever in baseball. When I sought to make him talk about it he wouldn’t even wigwag a finger on the subject. Something seems to tell me that he’ll never again ascend the mound and shoot the horsehide over the pentagon.”

CHAPTER XXXIV

WEEGMAN’S PROPOSAL

For four days Weegman had not troubled Locke, four days during which Lefty sought in vain to get some word from Charles Collier. His cablegrams remained unanswered. At the time when he had felt the most sanguine he seemed to find himself blocked again. He did not seek to delude himself with the belief that silence on the part of the conspirators meant they were inactive. Doubtless they were at work harder than ever. What were they doing? He confessed that he would give a great deal to know.

Then Weegman reappeared. His manner was ingratiating. His chuckle seemed intended to be genial and friendly.

“A private room where we can talk without the slightest chance of being overheard, that’s what we want,” he said. “Your own room should be all right, as long as your wife is stopping with Miss Collier and her aunt.” He knew about that. How long he had known was a question.

Locke felt like turning the rascal down flatly. He was on the verge of doing so when something led him to decide differently. Perhaps a little patience and cleverness would enable him to get an inkling of what the enemy was doing. He took Weegman to his room, and shot the door bolt behind them when they had entered.

“That’s right,” said Collier’s private secretary. “We don’t want to be interrupted by anybody. I took a great deal of pains that no one who knew me should see me come here. Garrity mustn’t get wise. He ordered me to keep away from you.” Laughing, he flung himself down on a chair.

“Garrity!” cried Lefty, astonished at the confession. “Then you admit that you are taking your orders from him?”

“He thinks I am,” was the grinning answer. “Perhaps he’ll find himself fooled. If you and I can get together, I’m sure he will.”

Locke stifled a sense of repulsion. The man was more detestable than ever. It did not appear possible, and yet he still seemed to think that Locke would accept a proposal from him.

“How do you mean?” asked the pitcher, with masterly self-control. “Get together how?”

“I hope you realize you can’t do anything alone. The combination against you is too strong, and too much had been done before you began to get wise to the situation. Let me tell you now that I didn’t expect this affair would go as far as it has when I entered into it.”

The creature was shamelessly acknowledging his participation in the plot, chuckling as he did so. Lefty waited.

“Of course,” pursued Weegman, “you’ve been aware for some time of my unbounded admiration and regard for Miss Collier. The old man favored me, but I couldn’t bring her round. To do so, I decided, it would be necessary for me to accomplish a coup. If I could apparently save her father from ruin she might alter her views. Out of gratitude she might marry me. I’m a man who gets what he wants, by hook or crook. Garrity approached me with a scheme. I listened to it. I believed I saw a way to turn that scheme to my own advantage with Virginia. But I’ll tell you now that it never was my intention to put Charles Collier wholly on the blink. At that time even I didn’t know how badly involved he was.”

Even while he told the truth in a way, Weegman was lying in the effort to palliate his act to some degree. His conscience was warped to such an extent that he seemed to believe there could be an excuse for the milder forms of conspiracy and crime. In a bungling way he was actually making a bid for Locke’s sympathy.

“You must have known of the dastardly arrangement with a crooked doctor to keep Mr. Collier drugged into apparent illness and detain him in Europe beyond reach of the friends who might tell him, Weegman. Who got to that doctor and bought him up?”

“Not I,” was the denial. “I didn’t have the money.”

“Was it Garrity?”

“Of course. Garrity had something on Dalmers, who was concerned in some mighty shady practices at one time. But he told me that Dalmers was simply going to keep watch of the old man. I didn’t know anything about the drugging business. When I found that out I was mad as blazes.”

The southpaw fought to prevent his lips from curling with scorn, and to suppress a look of triumph in his eyes. “What’s your proposition to me, Weegman?”

The self-acknowledged rascal seemed to hesitate. “You’re sure no one can hear us?” he asked, his eyes roving around the room.

“You can see that we’re quite alone.”

Weegman drummed nervously on the arm of his chair. “I’m sorry this thing has gone so far,” he protested. “I didn’t look for it to, at first. I got involved and couldn’t back out. In fact, Garrity threatened me when I showed signs of holding back. That,” he declared, with an attempt at indignant resentment, “made me sore. Without my help in the beginning he never could have done a thing. Now he thinks he’s got me foul, he’s going to gobble everything. We’ll see about that! Perhaps it isn’t too late to stop him. Maybe we can do it, you and I. I’d like to show him.”

So the rascals had quarreled over the division of the spoils, as rascals so often do. And now one of them was ready to betray the other, if he could do so without disaster to himself. At the same time, he hoped to make an alliance with Lefty by which he might reap some actual benefit from his underhanded work. Suddenly Locke thought of another man who had been suspected of complicity.

“How about Parlmee?” he asked. “Where does he fit in? Did Garrity send him over the pond to wrench the control of the Blue Stockings from Collier?”

“I don’t know what Garrity has been doing with Parlmee,” Weegman confessed. “It was natural that I should want to turn Virginia against Parlmee, but I swear I didn’t know he was in this thing when I got the idea of making her believe he was. That was an inspiration that came to me all of a sudden. I had to keep her away from him. I faked up some evidence. She refused to believe at first. Then, by Jove, I found out that Garrity and Parlmee were really up to something. They’ve had dealings.”

Lefty’s heart, which had bounded high for a moment, sank heavily. After all, could it be true that two cleverer scoundrels had combined to work Weegman as a dupe? Had the confirmation of this fact helped Weegman to make up his mind to go back on Garrity? Was it not possible that this was the real cause of the quarrel between the worthy pair?

The southpaw continued to lead the other on. “What is Garrity’s scheme? What has he told you that he proposed to do?”

“Unless Collier receives outside assistance, Garrity’s got him cornered. Collier has met reverses generally. Garrity has got hold of a certain amount of Blue Stocking stock. Collier still holds enough to keep the balance of power, but he won’t hold it long. If he tries to his interest in the Northern Can Company will go to glory. Garrity has placed himself in a position to shake the old man out of that concern. If Collier loses that, he’s broke–a pauper. He can’t hang on, because he hasn’t the ready resources. He’ll have to sell his Blue Stockings stock to save Northern Can. If he had a hundred and fifty thousand dollars in ready cash he could pull through. It’ll take half of that to oust Garrity from Northern Can, and the other half is needed for the team. Garrity will put it up to him to-morrow. In the meantime, can you and I raise one hundred and fifty thousand?”

“You and I!” cried Lefty. “Not a dollar! Not a cent! How will Garrity put it up to Collier to-morrow? Collier is in–”

“Philadelphia!” cut in Weegman sharply.

The southpaw stared, thunderstruck. “Philadelphia! You mean that he’s in this country?”

“He arrived to-day, and took a train at once for Philadelphia. I cabled him to come, and to keep his coming secret. Those were Garrity’s orders.”

Locke sat down heavily, still staring at Weegman.

CHAPTER XXXV

THE SHATTERING STROKE

That explained it. Now Lefty knew why he had received no answer to his cablegrams. Before the first was sent, Charles Collier was on the high seas, bound for America. He was home, and Garrity held him in the hollow of his hand. On the morrow the owner of the Blue Stockings was to feel the crushing grip of the triumphant schemer.

Weegman watched the southpaw’s face, noting the look of consternation upon it. Suddenly snapping his fingers, he began speaking again: “That’s why I came to you, Locke. What’s done must be done quickly. After eleven o’clock to-morrow it will be too late. You know what that means for you. Garrity hates you like poison, and you won’t last any time after he gets control. You can raise that money.”

“A hundred and fifty thousand dollars! You’re crazy!”

“You can do it, and save yourself. If you’ll do the right thing by me, I’ll tell you how to raise the needful. Together we’ll hand Garrity his bumps. What do you say? Is it a go?” He sprang up and approached, his hand extended.

Locke rose and faced him. The scorn and contempt upon his face would have withered a man less calloused. Weegman recoiled a little, and his hand dropped to his side.

“Weegman,” Lefty said, “you’re the most treacherous scoundrel I ever had the bad fortune to meet. You’re just about as trustworthy as a rattlesnake. Heaven knows I need money, and I certainly want to hold my job, but not even to save my own father and mother from being turned out of the home that has sheltered them so long would I enter into any sort of partnership with you.”

A look of astonished wrath contorted Weegman’s features, and a snarling laugh broke from his lips. “You poor fool!” he cried. “You’ve thrown away your last chance! I did think you would know enough to save yourself, but I see you haven’t an atom of sense in your head.”

There was something almost pitying in the smile Lefty gave him. Something, also, that caused the man a sudden throb of apprehension.

“You’re the fool, Weegman,” returned the southpaw. “You have confessed the whole rotten scheme. You have betrayed yourself and your fellow conspirator, Garrity.”

“Bah!” the rascal flung back, snapping his fingers again. “What good will it do you? I’ll deny everything. You can’t prove a thing. I was careful that there should be no witnesses, no one to hear a word that passed between us.”

Locke grabbed him by the wrist, and snapped him round with a jerk, facing one wall of the room. “And I,” he cried, “took care that every word we uttered should be heard by two reliable persons. I set the trap for Garrity, but I have been unable to decoy him into it. You walked into it unbidden. Look!”

With two strides he reached a dresser that stood against the wall. He seized it and moved it aside. With one finger he pointed to a small, square, black object that clung to the wall two feet from the floor.

“Look!” he commanded again.

Weegman stared uncomprehendingly, yet with the perspiration of dread beginning to bead his forehead.

“What is it?” he asked huskily.

“A dictograph!” answered Lefty. “I had it put in two days ago. When you met me a short time ago and asked for a private interview I started to turn you down. Then I saw old Jack Kennedy and Stillman, the reporter, in the background. They gave me a signal. Thirty seconds after we entered this room they were in the room adjoining, listening by means of that dictograph to every word that passed between us. We’ve got you, Weegman, and we’ve got Garrity, too. Criminal conspiracy is a rather serious matter.”

All the defiance had faded from Bailey Weegman’s eyes. He trembled; he could not command even a ghost of a laugh. He started violently, and gasped, as there came a sharp rap on the door.

“They want to take another good look at you to clinch matters so that they can make oath to your identity,” said Locke, swiftly crossing and flinging the door open. “Come in, gentlemen!”

Kennedy and Stillman entered. Weegman cowered before them. They regarded him disdainfully.

“You beaned him all right, Lefty,” said the ex-manager. “He wasn’t looking for the curve you put over that time.”

The reporter paused to light a cigarette. “After your arrest, Weegman,” he said, “I advise you to make haste to turn State’s evidence. It’s your only chance to escape doing a nice long bit in the stone jug.” He turned, closed the door behind him, and shot the bolt again. “In the meantime,” he added, “I think we can persuade you to refrain from warning Garrity regarding what is coming to him shortly after eleven o’clock to-morrow.”

Looking feeble and broken, Charles Collier sat at his desk in the office of the Blue Stockings Baseball Club. On the desk before him lay the books of the club and a mass of letters and documents. At one end of the desk sat Tom Garrity, smoking a big cigar and looking like a Napoleon who dreamed of no impending Waterloo. He was speaking. His words and manner were those of a conqueror.

“You can see how the land lies, Collier. You should have sold out your interest in the team before going abroad. Weegman made a mess of it. To-day you can’t realize fifty cents on the dollar. I’ve offered you my Northern Can stock for your holdings. That’s the best way out for you now. If you refuse you’ll lose Northern Can and the team, both. Better save one by sacrificing the other.”

Collier wearily lifted a protesting hand. “You don’t have to repeat it, Garrity; I know you’ve got me cornered. I’m merely waiting for Weegman. He promised to be here at eleven. It’s past that hour.”

Without asking permission, Garrity reached for the desk phone. “I’ll call in my lawyers,” he said. “They’ll be here in a few minutes.”

Before he could lift the receiver from the hook the door swung open, and Weegman came in, pale and shrinking. At his heels followed Locke, Kennedy, and Stillman. With an astonished exclamation, Garrity put the instrument down.

“I hope we don’t intrude,” said Lefty, smiling on the startled owner of the Rockets. “Having learned from Weegman of this little business meeting, we decided to drop in. I’m very glad to see that you have arrived home in time, Mr. Collier.”

“Too late!” sighed the hopeless man at the desk. “Too late! You’re just in time to witness the transference of the Blue Stockings to Garrity.”

“On the contrary,” returned the southpaw easily, “we have come to purchase Mr. Garrity’s Blue Stockings stock at the prevailing price. Likewise his interest in Northern Can.”

Garrity rose, his face purple with wrath. A tremendously explosive ejaculation burst from his lips. “What in blazes do you mean?” he roared.

“Just what I have said,” Locke answered calmly. “Since arriving in town I have made arrangements for this little business matter. I have opened an account with the New Market National by depositing a certified check for one hundred and fifty thousand dollars, which is more than enough to make the purchases mentioned. Mr. Collier’s attorney will arrive in ten minutes or so to see that everything is done in a legal manner.”

“But you can’t buy a dollar’s worth of my holdings in either concern.”

“You may think so now. I’m sure you’ll change your mind in a few moments. It is also reported that, for the good of the game, you’ll get out of organized baseball. Have you brought a copy of the second edition of the Morning Blade with you, Stillman? Show it to Mr. Garrity, please.”

The reporter drew a newspaper from his pocket, opened it, passed it to Garrity. One finger indicated a half-column article, with headlines.

GARRITY TO GET OUT.

WILL DISPOSE OF HIS INTERESTS IN THE ROCKETS AND ABANDON BASEBALL. HINTS OF A CONSPIRACY TO WRECK THE BLUE STOCKINGS.