“You look like a fighter,” said Wiley. “I wish you luck.”
“But what do you say to my proposition? Give me a flat answer.”
“Five hundred dollars!” murmured the Marine Marvel, licking his lips. “I’m wabbling on the top rail of the fence.”
“Fall one way or the other.”
Heaving a sigh, the sailor rose to his feet, and gave his trousers a hitch. “Let’s interview Jones,” he proposed.
CHAPTER XIII
THE PERPLEXING QUESTION
The following morning Lefty Locke received two letters. One was from the Federal League headquarters in Chicago, urging him to accept the offer of the manager who had made such a tempting proposal to him. The position, it stated, was still his for the taking, and he was pressed to wire agreement to the terms proposed.
The other letter was from Locke’s father, a clergyman residing in a small New Jersey town. The contents proved disturbing. The Reverend Mr. Hazelton’s savings of a lifetime had been invested in a building and loan association, and the association had failed disastrously. Practically everything the clergyman possessed in the world would be swept away; it seemed likely that he would lose his home.
Lefty’s face grew pale and grim as he read this letter. He went directly to his wife and told her. Janet was distressed.