Jimmy Kirkland and the Plot for a Pennant Part 17

"You know, Larry, that you placed me in a painful position. It isn't as if I were a rich girl, able to share with the man I love. My father and mother are not rich, and Uncle Barney has supplied me with everything. He has spoiled me--and I would make a wretched wife for a poor man."

"I would not have proposed marriage," said McCarthy quietly, "unless I had thought I would be able to provide for you as well as your uncle could. When circ.u.mstances were changed I could not ask you to sacrifice yourself unless you were willing--unless you cared enough for me to adapt yourself to the circ.u.mstances."

"But, Larry, aren't you going to quit all this foolishness and go back?

Haven't you been reconciled with Mr. Lawrence?" she asked in surprise.

"I expect to go back after the season is over and tell him how sorry I am that I caused him trouble."

"Please go, Larry. You'll go to please me, won't you?" she said appealingly.

"I cannot see why it would please you to have me quit now, when I'm most needed," he replied stiffly. "Surely you cannot know what you are asking."

"It is such a little thing I ask," she pouted, "I'm sure you would if you loved me."

The girl's eyes were filling. She had found him easy to handle by that appeal only a few short months before, but now, as he saw her, he was seized with a desire to laugh, as he realized that she was acting. The words of Swanson: "You'll find out more than we will," flashed into his mind, and he determined to meet acting with acting.

"Perhaps, Helen," he said softly, "if you could explain just why you want me to quit playing I could see my way to do it."

"That is being a sensible boy," she said, bathing her eyes with a bit of lace. "I don't like to see you making an exhibition of yourself before a crowd--for money." She shrugged her beautiful shoulders disdainfully.

"Is that all?" he asked quietly.

"All? Isn't it enough? And then there's Mr. Lawrence. I know he is worrying about you."

"Any other reasons?" he inquired.

"Then there's Uncle Barney"----

"What has Barney Baldwin to do with it?" His voice was sharp, and the girl hesitated under his steady scrutiny.

"You mustn't speak that way of my uncle," she said reprovingly. "I'm sure he's only interested in you because of me. He says it is imperative that you do not play any more with the Bears."

"Then Barney Baldwin ordered you to telephone for me to come here?" he asked harshly.

"He merely wanted me to persuade you to quit that ridiculous game and go back to Mr. Lawrence right away. He was only trying to save you."

For an instant he sat staring at the girl steadily. Then he said slowly:

"What a fool I've been."

"Oh, Larry, Larry!" she exclaimed, frightened by his manner. "What's the matter--is anything wrong?"

"Nothing wrong," he said, laughing mirthlessly. "Nothing wrong. You may tell your uncle, with my compliments, that I will continue to play with the Bears to the end of the season, and that, in spite of him and his dirty work we will win that pennant."

He arose and pa.s.sed into the hall without a backward glance, ignoring the sobs of the girl, who buried her face in her handkerchief and wept gracefully, telling him between sobs that he was cruel. He took his hat from the servant and strode rapidly down the steps, his mind a turmoil of emotions.

How far did the plot to beat the Bears out of the pennant extend? How many were in it? Gradually he commenced to draw connected thoughts from the chaos of his brain. He realized that he was the storm center of a plot and that he was dealing with dangerous enemies.

The girl he had left so abruptly continued her stifled, stagey sobs until she heard the front door close. Then she sat up quickly, glanced at her features in a wall mirror, brushed back a lock of ruffled hair and rubbed her eyes lightly with her kerchief.

"How he has changed," she said to herself. "He is getting masterful, and three months ago one pout was enough. I could almost love him--even without old Jim Lawrence's money.

"At any rate," she said, looking at the handsome solitaire on her finger, "I can keep the ring. He never mentioned it. I must go tell Uncle Barney."

She ran lightly up the stairs to the den where Baldwin, smoking impatiently, was waiting for her.

"Well?" he inquired. "Did you land him?"

"Don't speak so vulgarly, Uncle Barney," the girl replied. "No, I did not. He has grown stubborn. He told me to tell you he intended to keep on playing to the end of the season, and that they would win--I've forgotten what he said they would win. Does it make much difference, just these few more games?"

"Does it make any difference?" he stormed. "Any difference--why, you fool, my whole political future may be ruined by that red-headed idiot.

Get out of here. I'm going to telephone."

The girl, weeping in earnest now, hurried from the room as Barney Baldwin seized the telephone. A moment later he was saying:

"h.e.l.lo, Ed. She fell down. He's stubborn and says he'll keep on playing. You'd better see your man and break that story in the newspaper. What? They got him? Where? Well, then, they've got the wrong man. McCarthy left my house not five minutes ago."

CHAPTER XVII.

_The Fight in the Cafe_

Swanson left the hotel intending to pursue his volunteer detective work only a few moments after McCarthy started uptown to respond to the invitation of Miss Baldwin. He had remained lounging around the lobby talking with Kennedy, the big catcher, until he saw Williams leave the hotel by a side entrance and enter a street car. Then he signaled Kennedy and they strolled out together and caught the next car.

"It's Williams we're going to trail," was the only hint Swanson would give at the start.

"Williams?" snorted Kennedy. "You told me there was a chance for a sc.r.a.p. That guy won't fight."

"Maybe those he's going to see will," replied Swanson encouragingly.

Swanson did not know then that, only a short time before he made his arrangement with Kennedy, Williams had pleaded over the telephone to Edwards that he was afraid to meet him that evening, as requested, because he thought Clancy might discover the fact and that Clancy was already suspicious. Williams pretended alarm and convinced Edwards that there was danger of someone following the pitcher, and on his way to keep the appointment to meet the athlete he had drawn into the toils of the conspiracy, he stopped at his gambling room and ordered Jack, a big ex-prizefighter, to follow him to the meeting place and to keep watch during the conference.

It was growing dark when Edwards strolled slowly across town toward the rendezvous. Williams's fear of being upbraided when he met the gambler on that evening was unfounded. The gambler was convinced that the pitcher had made every effort to lose the game and that he had been balked only by luck and the fielding of McCarthy. He wanted to learn from Williams whether or not there was any other player on the team who could be bribed into a.s.sisting in the plot.

Swanson and Kennedy trailing cautiously saw Williams jump off the car and walk along the sidewalk, and, after riding past him, they descended and walked along the opposite side of the street, keeping close in the shadows of the tall buildings. A block further downtown they saw Williams stop, look around suspiciously as if to see whether or not anyone was following him, then turn up the side street and enter a cafe. Swanson quickly led the way. They pa.s.sed the saloon on the opposite side of the street, and after walking half a block they retraced their steps and stopped in a doorway opposite the entrance.

"Let's wait here and see who goes in," suggested Swanson.

"Whom do you expect him to meet?" inquired Kennedy.

"Edwards," vouchsafed Swanson grudgingly. "He has been meeting that crook for ten days now, and I want to find out what they're up to."

"Why didn't you tell me before?" demanded Kennedy. "I'd kick his head off"----

"We hadn't the goods on him," explained Swanson. "That's what I want you for. If we can prove he's up to some crooked work"----

The big Swede menacingly folded his ponderous paw into a fist and flexed his biceps.