“How can you find out, away down here? You’re too far away from the places where things are doing.”
“I’ve been looking for a telegram from old Jack, an answer to mine. I feel confident I’ll get a wire from him as soon as he reads my letter. Meanwhile I’ll write to my parents and try to cheer them up. It’s bound to take a little time to settle up the affairs of that building and loan association. Time is what I need now.”
That very day Locke received a telegram from Jack Kennedy:
Meet me at the Grand, Indianapolis, the twenty-third. Don’t fail.
A train carried Lefty north that night.
CHAPTER XIV
ONLY ONE WAY
The registry clerk stated that no Mr. Kennedy was stopping at the Grand Hotel. Locke was disappointed, for he had expected old Jack would be waiting for him. However, the veteran manager would, doubtless, appear later. Lefty registered, and the clerk tossed a room key to the boy who was waiting with the southpaw’s traveling bag.
As the pitcher turned from the desk he found himself face to face with a man whom he had seen on the train. The man, Locke believed, had come aboard at Louisville. There was something familiar about the appearance of the stranger, yet Lefty had not been able to place him. He had narrow hips, a rather small waist, fine chest development, and splendid shoulders; his neck was broad and swelling at the base; his head, with the hair clipped close, was round as a bullet; his nose had been broken, and there was an ugly scar upon his right cheek. He did not look to be at all fat, and yet he must have weighed close to one hundred and ninety. His hands, clenched, would have resembled miniature battering-rams.
This person had not taken a look at the register, yet he addressed the pitcher by name.