“The cub dared to shoot his face off to me,” explained Hutchinson. “I told him his baseball career at college was ended, and that it would be mighty short in this league. I shall notify the proper authorities at Princeton, and furnish proof that he is a professional, and I propose to put him on the blink here so that no team in the Northern League can use him.”
Riley suddenly looked doubtful.
“Now, look here, Hutch,” he said. “Why not put him on the blink as far as Kingsbridge is concerned, and let us have him, if we can get him? As long as you get your dough for managing, you don’t care a rap whether the Kinks win or not. If he can keep up the pace he’s set, he’d be a mighty valuable man fer Bancroft.”
“No,” returned Hutchinson coldly and grimly; “after what he’s said to me, I’ll not give him the satisfaction of holding a job anywhere in this league. Don’t you see, Riley, if he were to come over to you and be used successfully against Kingsbridge, he might think that he was getting back at me? I’ve made up my mind to put him down and out, and when it is done I intend to let him know I did it. It will benefit you if he is barred entirely, and that should be sufficient to make you ready to help put him to the mat. You don’t really need him, anyhow.”
“Mebbe not,” agreed Mike. “I’m out after a southpaw right now that can make this college lefty look like a frappéd lemon, and I’ve got my left-hand hitters practicing against a kid left-hander with speed and curves, so that they can pound that kind of pitchin’. Didn’t know but my claims to him might fall through, y’see.”
“Then,” questioned the treacherous Kingsbridge manager, “you haven’t any real claim? You haven’t a letter from him speaking of terms, or anything like that?”
“I haven’t,” confessed Riley. “I writ him twict, but I never got no answer. It made me sore to think that old doughhead, Cope, should beat me to it, and I made up my mind to bluff the thing through as fur as possible. Didn’t calc’late the youngster, knowin’ how it would bump him at college, would relish the advertisin’ he was bound to get, and thought mebbe, to hush it, he might give in, admit I did have a claim, and come over to us.”
“Not in a thousand years,” said Hutchinson; “not unless you’ve really got a claim. He’s just bull-headed enough to fight it out. I saw that by the way he met me when I showed him the piece in the News. He wouldn’t admit that his name was Hazelton.”
Suddenly Riley let his feet fall with a thud to the floor, the swivel chair swinging forward with his huge body, and brought his clenched fist down on the desk.
“By thunder!” he exclaimed.