THE RUINED CASTLE
With London as their center the teams made flying trips to Edinburg, Glasgow and Dublin. In all three places they received a royal welcome, for the fame of that great game in London had spread throughout the nation and all were eager to see the hero of that occasion.
Under other circumstances Joe would have been jubilant, for he was at the very height of his reputation, the girl he loved was with him, as well as his only sister and his closest friend, but ever in his thoughts like the spectre at the feast was that matter of the signed contract—the abominable thing that smirched his reputation and branded him to the world as false to his word and bond.
Again and again he sought to find the key to the mystery. It seemed like some monstrous jugglery, something akin to the fakir’s tricks that he had witnessed at Colombo where the impossible had seemed so clearly possible. 235
Try as he would he could find no explanation of the puzzle and his friends were equally powerless to suggest a solution.
The game at Dublin, which commenced auspiciously for the Giants, was turned into a rout by a rally of the All-Americans in the ninth. A rain of bingles came from their bats and they won easily with six runs to spare.
“Got it in the neck that time, old man,” said Joe to Jim, after the game. “But we can’t always win. What do you say to getting a buzz wagon and taking a little spin out into the country? The girls will be getting ready for that reception at the Viceroy’s castle, and they’ll be too busy dolling up to care what becomes of us.”
“Good idea,” said Jim, and the two friends made their way to a public garage, secured a good car together with a driver, and whirled away into the open country.
They had made perhaps twenty miles through the beautiful Irish scenery when Joe called Jim’s attention to a cloud bank forming in the west.
“Better skip back, old man,” he said. “We’re due for a wetting if we don’t.”
“Plenty of time yet,” objected Jim. “Those look to me just like wind clouds. Let’s see a little bit more of Ireland.”
They went on perhaps five miles further and then Jim found that his confidence was misplaced. 236 The clouds grew blacker, an ominous muttering was heard in the sky and a jagged flash of lightning presaged the coming storm.
“You see I was right,” said Joe. “In this open car we’ll be drenched to the skin. Turn around, Mike,” he said to the driver, “and let’s see how fast this old boat of yours can travel in getting back to Dublin. Throw her into high and give her all you’ve got.”
The driver obeyed and the car fairly purred as it sped back toward the city. But fast as it was, the storm was faster. Great raindrops pattered down, and they looked anxiously about for shelter.
“What’s that place up there, Mike?” asked Jim, pointing to a rambling stone structure on an elevation perhaps a hundred yards from the road.
“’Tis the castle o’ the last o’ the O’Brian’s, hivin rist his sowl,” replied Mike. “But they do be sayin’ the place is hanted, an’ ’tis a brave man that would be shteppin’ inside the dhure.”
“I’m a brave man, then,” cried Jim. “For I’ll face a dozen ghosts before I would this storm. Turn in, Mike, and we’ll wait there till the rain is over.”
With a muttered protest Mike did as directed, and a moment later the young men stepped jauntily through the ruined portal, while Mike, shocked 237 at their temerity, crossed himself and, throwing an oilskin over his head, crouched low in his seat, preferring the discomfort of the open to the unknown terrors that might lurk beyond the doorway of the ruined castle.
The friends had scarcely stepped inside before the rain came down in torrents.
“Lucky we got here just as we did,” remarked Joe, as they leaned up against the masonry of the ruined hall and looked out at the cloudburst.
“It surely was,” agreed Jim. “I wish we had a little more light. It’s as dark as Egypt in here.”
“I’ve got my pocket flashlight with me,” said Joe, reaching toward his hip pocket. “But listen, what’s that?”
“I didn’t hear anything,” returned Jim, a little nervously, it must be admitted.
The two ball players kept perfectly still for a minute and heard what seemed to be the murmur of voices a room or two away.
“Can it be that the last of the O’Brians is rambling about the castle?” whispered Jim, with a feeble attempt at raillery.
“More likely some travelers stormbound like ourselves,” returned Joe practically. “Let’s take a squint at them.”
They tiptoed their way through the hall to a room opening on the right. The door, half 238 broken from its hinges, was standing open, and in the darkness they saw the tips of two lighted cigars.
As this was not at all ghostly and they did not care to intrude, they were about to retire as softly as they had come, when Joe was startled by hearing his own name. Jim’s hand shot out and clenched his friend’s arm, and they stood there like statues.
“That was a slick trick you put over on Matson,” said a voice which Joe recognized instantly as belonging to Beckworth Fleming. He had heard that voice before when he had made its owner kneel in the dirt of the road and beg Mabel’s pardon for his insolence.
“I think myself it was rather clever,” drawled another familiar voice, that of Braxton. “He fell for it like a lamb.”
“He’s a pretty keen chap usually, too,” remarked Fleming. “How is it you caught him napping?”
“I picked out just the right time,” said Braxton complacently. “And I don’t deny that luck helped me a little. If McRae and Barclay hadn’t gone away just the time they did, it might not have worked. But I got him talking about handwriting, and the first thing you know he’d scribbled his name on the blank sheet. I took good care that only the bottom of the sheet was where he could 239 reach it. Then I slipped the paper into my pocket, sent it to you to have the contract printed above the signature, and you know the rest.”
“Easy meat,” chuckled Fleming.
“Too easy,” chortled Braxton. “It makes me laugh every time I think of it.”
Joe stepped into the room, followed by Jim.
“I do a little laughing myself sometimes,” Joe said coldly. “And this is one of the times!”