He detested the fellow as much as ever. His suspicion of Elgin’s responsibility for the doped beer remained unshaken. Whether the man had stolen or not, did not affect that question.
“I can’t do it!” Lefty burst out, at length, a vivid picture of the sneering reception which would greet an apology on his part flashing into his mind. “I detest that man, and I won’t give him a chance to crow over me. He’d seize it gleefully.”
For a time he deluded himself with the idea that, after all, it wasn’t up to him to do anything. The matter had never been made public. With the exception of Ogden Wilmerding, Stillman and Ferris were the only ones who knew anything of it. It had long ago been relegated to the past. Why should it be dragged out into the light at this late day? He would write to Bob Ferris that very night and put him straight about the matter. That should be enough.
Deep down in his heart Lefty Locke knew that it was not enough. Because he was clean and straight and honorable, he knew that it was up to him to apologize to the man he had so cruelly misjudged, whether he detested him or not. He had been responsible for the stigma resting on Elgin’s good name, and that responsibility could not be shirked. Common decency made it imperative for him to acknowledge his mistake.
The decision was not an easy one. In fact, Lefty had never struggled harder against the temptation to take the simple course and let things slide. If he kept silent, the chances were a thousand to one that Elgin would never hear a whisper of Wilmerding’s story. The latter was not likely to repeat it to others, and Stillman would certainly keep the matter to himself.
In spite of all these plausible arguments, however, the southpaw knew that there was really only one thing for him to do, much as he hated it; and, having come to that conclusion, he lost no time in ridding himself of the unpleasant duty.
A glance at his watch told him that it was not yet eleven. Possibly Elgin might still be up, and if the task could be done that night, so much the better.
Stepping out into the corridor, he walked to Elgin’s room, noticed the light streaming through the transom, and, without further delay, knocked firmly on the door.
“Come in!” called a voice impatiently.
Elgin, partly undressed, stood in the middle of the room. As his rival entered and closed the door behind him, a look of surprise flashed into his face, followed swiftly by a scowl.