“But even he had never see the man. He made arrangements entirely by letter. What if Hazelton, not caring to come himself, sent a substitute? Jupiter! If that’s how the land lays, this Locke would have the laugh on ev’rybody when the truth came out. We’d all feel like a man caught tryin’ to spend plugged money.”
Hutchinson pondered. The possibility suggested by Riley was something that had not occurred to him, but, although he could perceive that such a thing might be true, a brief bit of meditation led him to reject it as improbable.
“You’re wrong,” he said. “I’ll stake my life that he is Hazelton.”
“We’ve got t’ be sure,” growled the Bancroft manager. “It won’t do to go ahead until we are. Say, I wouldn’t have him put one like that over on me for a cool thousan’. I’d be guyed aplenty. Think of us howlin’ about Hazelton and claimin’ that Locke was him, only to have it pan out that we’d been makin’ a lot o’ jacks of ourselves. I wouldn’t hear the last of it in a year.”
“Then I’ll find a way to get the proof that he is Hazelton,” promised Hutch. “But when we’ve got it, what are we going to do? I thought you had some semblance of a claim which would give us an excuse to get together and sign an agreement not to use him, either one of us.”
“And have him go over to Fryeburg or Lakeport?”
“No. We could fix that by faking up a claim that, on account of crookedness on his part, he was suspended. A man suspended can’t be taken up by another team in the same league; they’ve got to wait for his release, and we’d both refuse to release him. Settlement of the matter could be hung up until the season was over.”
Riley thumped the desk again, grinning at his worthy associate in conspiracy.
“You’ve got a head, Hutch,” he complimented. “You alwus was clever at framin’ up jobs, and I reckon, together, we could put it through. If I knowed f’r sure Locke was Hazelton, and had some of his handwritin’—well, I cal’late I could get a letter faked that would cook his goose. I know a clever guy who’d do the pen-work. You bring me proof that he’s Hazelton, together with a workin’ sample of his penmanship, and we’ll put him down, both shoulders to the carpet. I’ll have old Cope weepin’ briny tears for his lost wizard.”