Lefty Locke Pitcher-Manager Part 29

"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, reentering the room. "It would give me great pleasure to have Mrs.

Hazelton visit us and remain as long as possible."

Locke looked doubtful, for should that arrangement be carried out Janet might easily be led into telling Virginia more than it seemed advisable for her to know at the present time. But Mrs. Vanderpool made her invitation most cordial, and Janet gave him a beseeching glance.

He wavered.

"Weegman calls here. If he should--"

Janet's hand fell on his arm. "Trust me," she urged significantly.

"You can't hope to keep him long in the dark. For the present, if he calls, I'll not be in evidence. You're so busy that I see very little of you during the day, anyway."

So he was won over. Janet returned with him to the hotel to gather up the belongings she would need, and Stillman accompanied them. Lefty made his wife understand how desirous it was to keep Weegman blinded as long as possible, explaining that he feared Miss Collier's indignation would lead her into betraying everything should she learn the whole truth regarding the two-faced schemer.

"If you can get Collier home quickly enough, Locke," said Stillman, "there's a chance that you may be able to spike the enemy's guns, even at this late hour."

"I'm going to make a swift play for that chance," returned Lefty.

CHAPTER x.x.xIII

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 modic.u.m 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 embarra.s.sing to be enc.u.mbered by fame, and my modesty often compels me to travel incog-nit-o; but just now, having a yearning desire to hobn.o.b with my old college chump, Lefty Locke, I am blus.h.i.+ngly compelled to reveal my ident.i.ty. When Lefty learns that I am here he will fly like a bird to greet me. Notify one of yon bra.s.s-b.u.t.toned 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 pa.s.ses 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 s.h.i.+ning. "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 x.x.xIV

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.