"It sounds altogether too impossible," said Locke. But, to his annoyance, in spite of his persistently expressed faith, a shadowy uncertainty, a tiny, nagging doubt, was creeping into his mind. Stillman seemed so absolutely confident of his ground.

"Through his long a.s.sociation with Miss Collier," the reporter pursued calmly, "Parlmee had learned much about inside conditions in baseball. He had plenty of opportunities to get at things entirely hidden from, or merely suspected by, the general public. He knew Garrity was a grasping scoundrel, who had long regarded the Blue Stockings with a covetous eye, and that, being utterly unscrupulous, he would do anything, as long as he could keep in the background, to break Collier's grip and get his own soiled paws on the property.

Therefore, Garrity was the man to deal with, and to Garrity Parlmee went. They met under cover in Chicago, and the deal was fixed up between them. Then Garrity got at Weegman, the real stool pigeon and the fall guy of the whole plot."

Locke was listening without protest now. In spite of his desire not to believe, Stillman's theory seemed possible; he would not yet admit, even to himself, that it was probable. Janet, too, was silent. The color had left her face, and beneath the table her hands were tightly clenched.

"Weegman was just a.s.s enough to fall for it," continued Stillman contemptuously. "What Garrity promised him I can't say, but certainly it must have been a satisfactory percentage of the loot--maybe an interest in the team when Garrity got control; and Weegman would sell his soul for money. The moment Collier was out of the way he got to work. You know as well as I do what success he's had. In order to cover his tracks as far as possible, he has picked you for the goat, and he'll try to shunt all the blame on you."

Lefty's face was grim. He was endeavoring to look at the matter fairly and without bias. To himself he was compelled to admit that his knowledge of Parlmee had been obtained through casual a.s.sociation with the man, not through business dealings, and in no small degree, he, as well as Janet, had doubtless been influenced by the sentiments of Virginia Collier. A girl in love may be easily deceived; many girls, blinded by their own infatuation, have made heroes of thoroughbred scoundrels. It was practically impossible, however, for Locke to picture Parlmee as a scoundrel.

"You have made a statement, Jack," he said, "without offering a particle of corroborating proof. How do you know all this to be true?"

"I have the word of a man I trust that Parlmee and Garrity had that secret meeting in Chicago, just as I have stated. A few days ago Parlmee made a flying trip to Indianapolis, and--"

"I know that," interrupted Lefty. "I was in Indianapolis at the time.

I met him there and had a brief talk with him."

"On his way back," resumed Stillman, "he stopped off at Cleveland to see Garrity, who happened to be in that city."

"How do you know that?"

"My own business chanced to call me out to Cleveland at that time, and I saw Parlmee and Garrity together at the American House."

Locke took a long breath, recalling the fact that Parlmee, although professing to be in great haste when in Indianapolis, had not returned to his New York office as soon as expected.

"That may have been an accidental meeting," said the southpaw. "Your proof has holes in it."

The reporter lighted a fresh cigarette. "How does it happen," he asked, "that Parlmee is buying up all the small blocks of the club stock that he can get hold of?"

Lefty started as if p.r.i.c.ked by the point of a knife. Parlmee, an automobile salesman, a man who had found it necessary to get out and show that he could make good in the business world, buying the stock of the club!

"Is he?" asked the pitcher.

"He is," a.s.serted Stillman positively. "I know of three lots that he has purchased, and in each instance he has paid a little more than it was supposed to be worth."

"He--he may have bought it as an investment," faltered Janet.

The reporter smiled at her. "As far as I can learn, Franklin Parlmee is not situated, financially, to invest much money in stock of any kind.

With his stock depreciating, and bound to go lower in value, he would be a chump to purchase it as an investment. The man who pays more than its market value in order to get hold of it knows something about the doings behind the scenes that is not known to the general public. Apparently that man is Parlmee. Who's furnishing him the money to buy the stock?

My own guess is that it is the man who's looking to get control of the club, and that man is Garrity."

Still Janet protested that it was impossible, but she looked questioningly at Lefty, the doubt that she was fighting against was now beginning to creep into her eyes.

"Parlmee," said the southpaw, "has gone to Europe. I have a message from him stating that he would sail on the _Northumberland_. If he's behind the plot to wreck the Blue Stockings, why should he leave the field of action at this time?"

"If I've got his number," returned Stillman, "he's a liar in various ways. Perhaps he has sailed for Europe; perhaps he hasn't. His message may be nothing more than a little dust for your eyes. But if he has sailed, there's only one answer to that."

"Out with it!" urged Locke. "Of course, you think it another move in the rotten game?"

"Sure as death and taxes. He believes the time is ripe to get at Collier. He's gone across to get at him and twist the control of the club out of his hands. Probably he'll appear before Collier in the guise of a friend anxious to save him from complete financial disaster.

He's got just about enough time to make the trip comfortably, get that business through with, and return before the regular meeting of the league magnates here in New York. Then, at the meeting, Tom Garrity will bob up serenely as the real owner of the Blue Stockings."

CHAPTER XXVI

NOT MUCH SHOW

Tired out, Janet went to bed shortly after Stillman left, but Locke, knowing he could not sleep, sat up to think the situation over. The difficulties and problems of his own position seemed greater than ever. If the plot was as deep and intricate as the reporter believed, and if the men behind it were moving with haste and certainty to the accomplishment of their designs, there seemed scarcely a ghost of a chance for him, practically alone and unaided, to block them.

For Lefty now felt that, in a way, he was standing alone. Even Kennedy, having no power, could do little more than offer advice. And where was Kennedy?

The southpaw had fancied that he would be given more time to muster his opposing forces for the battle. He had even imagined, at first, that the man he would need to contend against and defeat was Weegman. But now Weegman, the blind tool of craftier creatures, looked insignificant and weak. In order to defeat him it would be necessary to strike higher.

How was he to strike? That was the question. Locke had suggested to Stillman complete exposure of the plot by newspaper publicity. And right there the reporter, who had seemed so confident of his ground, had betrayed that, after his usual method, he was working by intuition, and had no positive and una.s.sailable verification of his conclusions.

It would not do for his paper to charge criminal conspiracy without proper evidence to back up such an indictment.

Recalling this, Lefty remembered that Stillman, having heard all the southpaw could tell, had ended by giving his own theory, and had offered proof to substantiate it. And then he had been compelled to acknowledge that the proof he had to offer was not sound enough to base exposure and open action upon.

If Stillman were right, doubtless Parlmee had gone abroad with full knowledge of Charles Collier's whereabouts. That knowledge being denied Lefty, he could not warn Collier, and the plot would be carried through as arranged. Then, as the reporter had predicted, at the annual meeting of the magnates, shortly to be held, Garrity would appear as owner of the Blue Stockings. When that happened, the fight would be over, and the conspirators would be triumphant.

With the door to Janet's chamber closed, Locke walked the floor, striving for a clear conception of what ought to be done. He felt like a man bound hand and foot. Of course, he could go on with his project to strengthen the team, but the harvest of his success would be reaped by the plotters, if they, too, were successful. There was little uncertainty about what would happen to him, for he knew that his conscience would not permit him to become an understrapper for Garrity. He had left Fernandon with courage and high hope to do battle; but now the helplessness of the situation threatened to appall him.

If there were only some way to get into communication with Collier. Again he thought of his somewhat shaken conviction that Virginia was in New York. If that were true, some of her family or friends must know it, and, of course, Virginia would know how to communicate without delay with her father.

With this thought came the conviction that in Virginia lay his only hope. If he had been mistaken, and she were not in the United States, his chance of doing anything to foil the conspirators was not one in a thousand. His work for the morrow was cut out for him; he must learn positively if Charles Collier's daughter was on American soil, and, if so, he must find her.

The telephone rang, and when he answered it he was informed that Kennedy was calling. The faithful old veteran had come, after all! Lefty said that he was to be sent up at once.

"Well, son," said old Jack, as he came in, "how are things moving?"

"None too well," answered Lefty, shaking his hand.

"So?" grunted Kennedy. "I wondered just what was up, and I came right along in answer to your call, but my train was delayed. What are the new developments?"

"Sit down," said Locke, "and I'll tell you. Since I sent you that message I've heard something that's got me guessing--and worried."

"The contracts?" questioned old Jack, sitting down. "The boys signed up, didn't they?"

"Every one of them. That's not the trouble. I've had a talk with Jack Stillman."

"The only reporter I know with a noodle screwed on right," said Kennedy. "His bean's packed with sound sense. When he gets an idea it's generally correct."

"In that case, unless he's made a bobble this time, the situation's worse than we suspected, Jack."

"Give me the dope," urged Kennedy.