“You mean that Mullin is starting work there? Well, that’s all right, my boy. I told him to.”
“Yes, sir, of course, but—but couldn’t he wait until Monday, sir? We are going to play Lesterville, and they’re here and there’s a lot of folks paid to see the game.”
“Oh, that’s it, is it? Why, I don’t know, Merrick. What does Mullin say? It’s his affair now. He has the contract for the work, you see.”
“He says he won’t wait, Mr. Brent. But if you told him to——”
“But really, Merrick, I haven’t any right to interfere!”
“It—it’s your field, sir! And you said we could use it!”
Mr. Brent frowned. “I said you could use it until I was ready to put the street through, Merrick. Wasn’t that it?”
“Yes, sir, I suppose so,” replied Gordon dejectedly. Mr. Brent drew his big gold watch from his waistcoat pocket, snapped it open, frowned at it and snapped it shut again.
“As a matter of fact, Merrick, if the city council hadn’t held me up on that business you’d have lost your field weeks ago. You ought to be thankful for that. We’re late on starting that work as it is and I prefer not to have any more delay. I’m sorry, but you boys will have to play your game somewhere else.” He smiled, dropped his watch back to his pocket and turned toward the car line.
“There isn’t any other place, sir,” said Gordon sadly.