After turning over in his mind the circumstances of the scrape into which he had been drawn, Master Jackson coolly sat down and wrote the following despatch to Ben Burton:
The thing is blown. Look out for yourself.
HENRY J. JACKSON.
It was this warning, received by Burton after the game was over, that put him on his guard when he was confronted with the despatch sent to Hiram Porter. Next day, when the town was alive with enthusiasm over the reception to the returning base ball club, Henry Jackson did not appear in any of the excited groups that accompanied the players from the depot to their club-rooms.
The hilarity of the day was somewhat dampened by the fact that one of the nine was a traitor, and that he must be disciplined, if the charge were proven against him. The evidence shown to the boys on their arrival was tolerably conclusive, but it was needful, as they thought, to secure an admission from either Ben or Henry that there had been collusion between them. Burton's father, a worthy and honest miller, sought out Captain Hiram, and, with much grief, told him that Ben had written to him from Chicago, saying that he was going to Indiana on unexpected business, and that he would not be in Catalpa for some weeks to come. This, to the old gentleman, who had heard the flying reports to his son's discredit, was a suspicious circumstance. He did not like to believe that Benjamin had done anything wrong, he said, but he was "afeard," yes, he was "afeard."
Judge Howell sent for Hank Jackson, and that young man, although at first disposed to be stubborn, finally broke down before the majesterial bearing of the Judge and told all that was needful to convict himself and Ben of having combined to make money by betting on the game between the Calumets and the Catalpas. Ben, he said, had suggested the trick, agreeing to "throw the game," if Hank, and any other confederate whom he might select, would get the bets secured in Catalpa. Henry also thought that Ben had arranged to have a similar scheme at the same time played in Sandy Key, where he had a boon companion.
The story of the despatches was now clearly unravelled. Ben had sent a despatch to Henry Jackson directly after leaving the Chicago lodgings of the club, on the morning of the second day; subsequently, he had remembered that his friend in Sandy Key might be utilized as a fellow conspirator, and, just before the game was called, he had hurried off a despatch to him, also. Inquiries subsequently developed the fact that this was exactly what had been done.
While Henry was undergoing an examination in Judge Howell's private office, the nine were in consultation. Presently, the door opened and the Judge and his unwilling prisoner appeared.
"Henry has decided to make a clean breast of this unhappy business, Captain Porter," said the Judge. "Speak up like a man, Henry, and tell the gentlemen what you have told me."
With downcast eyes and a sullen manner, Hank fumbled with his cap, and mumbled his story, but without omitting anything relevant to the case. He was heard in silence, although "The Lily," whose eyes glared vengefully at the culprit, with difficulty restrained himself. And when the door closed behind the Judge and the criminal, the ungentle William gave a roar of rage that astonished first, and then set the club off into fits of laughter, in spite of the solemnity of the occasion.
"Well, what is the result of your deliberations, Mr. Boyne?" asked a brisk and somewhat seedy young man, as the boys came down from their club-room. Pulling out a note book and moistening a pencil at his lip, as he spoke, he continued, "Shocking case of depravity on the part of young Burton. Quite a small sensation, on my word. Small, small for a big city, but really sensational for Catalpa, you know. Ha! ha!" and the young gentleman laughed at his little sally.