Lefty Locke Pitcher-Manager Part 21

The southpaw gave the waiter the order. Then he turned to Stillman.

"I thought I might hear something new from you, Jack," he said, "but you're singing the same old song. To be frank with you, it's getting a bit tiresome. If I were dull enough not to know I'd been picked for a fall guy, I could have obtained an inkling of it from the newspapers.

It's plain every baseball scribe knows the fact that there's a put-up job, although none of them has had the nerve to come out flat and say so."

"They've said all they really dared to--without absolute proof of a conspiracy. If you know so much, take my advice, hand me the proof, and give me permission to publish it. But it must be real proof."

"I can't do it yet. Perhaps, when the time comes, I'll pa.s.s you what you're asking for. Just now, considering your statement that you never double cross a friend, I'm going to talk freely and tell you how much I know."

Sipping his coffee, Stillman listened to Locke's story. That there was sufficient interest in it the attention of the reporter attested.

Janet watched the newspaper man closely, and once or twice she caught the flicker of an incredulous smile that pa.s.sed over his face, giving her the impression that Stillman had a notion that there were holes in Lefty's narrative.

"Do you mind if I smoke?" asked the reporter, when dinner was over, and the dessert had been placed on the table.

Having received Janet's permission, Stillman lit a cigarette, and for a few moments said nothing, being apparently engrossed with his thoughts.

Presently he said: "I wonder."

"Wonder what?" Lefty wanted to know. "What I've told you is the straight fact. Weegman's the crook. Kennedy knew it. I knew it when I took the position of manager. Garrity's behind Weegman. What ails Collier, and why he was crazy enough to run away and bury himself while his team was wrecked, is the unexplained part of the mystery. But if we can block Weegman we may be able to put the whole game on the fritz."

"I wonder," repeated Stillman, letting the smoke curl from his mouth.

Locke felt a touch of irritation. "What are you wondering over? I've talked; now I'm ready to listen."

The reporter gave Locke a steady look. "Evidently the possibility hasn't occurred to you that you may not even suspect the real crook who is at the bottom of the affair."

"Weegman conceived it," replied Lefty. "He knew Garrity's reputation.

He was sure Garrity would jump at the chance to help, and to grab a fat thing at the same time, by stepping in and gobbling the Stockings when the moment came. Of course, Weegman will get his, for without his undermining work in our camp the thing couldn't be pulled off. And Weegman's looking to cop the big chief's daughter when he gets the chief pinched just where he wants him."

"Wheels within wheels," said Stillman, "and Weegman only one of the smallest of them. He's one of those egotistical scoundrels who can easily be flattered and fooled into doing scurvy work for a keener mind."

"You mean Garrity?"

"I wasn't thinking of him when I spoke."

"Then who--"

"I had a man named Parlmee in mind," stated the reporter.

CHAPTER XXV

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 a.s.sistant 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 a.s.serted, "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."