Before Elgin could reply the southpaw had jerked the door open, stepped swiftly through, and slammed it behind him.
CHAPTER XXVI
GAINING GROUND
“What the deuce did you go and tell him for?” Jack Stillman demanded pettishly.
“Because I had to,” retorted Lefty, with some asperity. He was tired of the whole subject, and desired to forget it. “Don’t be a fool, Jack. There wasn’t anything else to do.”
The reporter shrugged his shoulders. There was a note of finality in his friend’s voice which he knew better than to disregard.
“Well, all I can say is I’m thankful my conscience isn’t so blamed sensitive,” he sighed. “He’ll be so swelled up there won’t be any enduring him. Heaven knows he’ll be chesty enough, as it is, when he sees the papers.”
“What do you mean, Jack?” Lefty asked curiously.
The reporter scowled. “Same old dope about ‘Marvelous Cub Twirler Discovered by Astute Manager,’” he explained sardonically. Stillman had a trick of talking in capitals which made one fairly see the glaring headlines. “It’s the same every spring, only this year there are a lot more kids around than usual who can handle a murder case or robbery a heap better than they can a Big League training season.”
Lefty grinned. “Oh, you mean they’re giving him a puff on account of yesterday?”