“I haven’t any doubt of that. It’s simply the result of unfortunate circumstances and the determination of somebody to do me a bad turn. Mr. Cope, I’m not a trouble breeder, but, as you have used me square and I am genuinely interested in the team, I’m going to give you a tip to keep an eye on your manager. Nor does this come wholly, or even mainly, from the fact that I do not like him personally; I have reasons to believe that he is not on the level.”
“Hum!” grunted the grocer; “we hired him on good recommendation, but I don’t mind tellin’ you privately that I’ve got a feelin’ myself that he ain’t to be trusted too fur. He’s fer puttin’ you on the bench until arter this fuss over you is settled, an’ that don’t sound good t’ me. I want you to pitch agin’ Bancroft ag’in to-morrer.”
“And I want to pitch against them,” said Tom warmly; “but you’ll find that Hutchinson will object.”
“As long as you insist that they can’t count out the games that you win, I’m goin’ to set on the bench myself an’ see that you pitch to-morrer.”
“Good! I hope I’m in my best form, for I hear that Riley has had his men batting industriously in practice against a left-handed pitcher. Being left-handed helped me against his left-handed hitters at first before I had them sized up; but I’ve made a study of them for weak spots, and, though they are called sluggers, he has no Wagners or Lajoies—men who can bump any kind of a ball that comes within reach of their bats. They have their failings, every one of them, and, with good control and good support, I should be able to take another fall out of them.”
The door of the room had been left slightly ajar by Cope. Outside that door a hesitating bell boy stood listening to the talk of the two men. Hearing some one turn the knob of a door farther along the corridor, the boy hastily lifted his hand and knocked. At Locke’s call, he pushed the door open, and entered.
“Hello, Sam,” said the pitcher. “On the bed there—that suit needs pressing; take it to the tailor, will you, and tell him I want it back to-night? Here!”
He extended a silver half dollar, but the boy, who had gathered up the suit of dark-blue serge from the bed, drew back, looking confused.
“What’s the matter, Sam?” asked Locke, a bit impatiently. “You’ve been doing some little favors for me of late.”