“So this is the kind of a man you are! I’ve always been inclined to think you a crook, although you’ve escaped detection until now!”
Fernald had turned pale, and for a moment or two he stood quite still, apparently thunderstruck and overcome. Suddenly he wheeled toward Buckhart, his fist clinched, and his teeth gleaming between his back-drawn lips. With the intention of striking the Texan, he made a single step.
In a twinkling Dick and Ray Garrett were between Brad and Fernald.
“Let him come! Let him come!” palpitated the Western lad. “I’ll give him his medicine good and plenty.”
“Better not raise a disturbance, Mr. Fernald,” said Dick quietly. “It’ll be a bad thing for you. A row here will cause this whole matter to come out, and if you’re not ridden on a rail and tarred and feathered after that, it will surprise me.”
CHAPTER III
A WORTHY PAIR.
“That’s right,” nodded Uriah Blackington. “If this thing gets out, you’ll be driven out of Rockford, Fernald. There’s only one thing for you to do.”
“I hope you’re not chump enough,” said Fernald, “to think I meant it when I offered to throw the final games this season. I did that in order to lead this fellow into the bargain with me about the game to-morrow.”
“I wouldn’t believe you under oath!” retorted Blackington. “You’re a thoroughly untrustworthy scoundrel! As president of this league, I demand your instant resignation from the position you hold.”