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