CHAPTER XXVTHE TEST AND THE DENIAL
At the post office, as he had hoped, King met Janet. Since Sunday, he had scarcely caught a glimpse of her, but he knew she sometimes came for the mail near that hour, and the knowledge brought him there from the mill. As she was leaving, he joined her, making an excuse to walk in the same direction.
They chatted about various trivial things, Janet seeming quite light-hearted. He, however, was troubled; he wished that she would speak of baseball, which would make it easier for him to introduce the matter that was on his mind. Coming in sight of the parsonage at last, he decided to delay no longer.
“I understand,” he said abruptly, “that Kingsbridge’s great pitcher, Locke, is in trouble.”
“In trouble?” she exclaimed, surprised. “How?” The undisguised depth of her interest, and her all too apparent alarm, gave him a stab of anger.
“Oh,” he answered, with pretended carelessness,“it has just leaked out that he played a rather slick two-handed game with Bancroft and Kingsbridge, and Mike Riley is making a holler about it. He professes to hold first claim on the man. If so, this town will lose the mighty southpaw.”
Her alarm became almost panicky.
“I don’t understand, and I don’t believe a word of it. It’s only another of Riley’s tricks. How can he have any claim on Lefty?”
He explained.
“Oh,” said Janet, “is Lefty really and truly a college man? I felt sure he could not be just an ordinary professional player. He seems far too refined and well bred.”
“He’s a college man, all right. He looked familiar to me at first sight, but I was not sure I had seen him before. His name is Hazelton, and he did some pitching for Princeton this year, but I don’t think he was a regular on that team until the end of last season. I suppose he thought that, coming away up here in the bush, he could get by under a fake name without being found out. They’re wise to him, however, and now he’s in bad. It should end his career as a college pitcher.”
“That would be a shame!”
King shrugged his shoulders.
“Why so? A college player who goes into the game professionally deserves no sympathy if exposed. He’s crooked, and he has no right ever again to appear on his college nine.”
“I don’t believe Lefty would do anything crooked,” she declared stoutly. “He has an honest face. You’re prejudiced against him, Bent.”
“It isn’t prejudice,” was his defense. “The facts speak for themselves. If he is Hazelton, of Princeton, playing here under a false name, he’s dishonest.”
“Then I don’t believe he is Hazelton, at all.”
They had stopped at the cottage steps.
“I have wired for proof,” he said grimly. “I did so Monday, and I’ll know positively before long. Already, however, I am quite satisfied; for if the man isn’t Hazelton why should Riley make such a claim? And why doesn’t Henry Cope deny it?”
“I didn’t think it of you!” she cried, her face flushed and her eyes scornful. “I didn’t think you would do such a thing, Benton King.”
“I wished to satisfy myself regarding the man’s honesty,” he explained, still standing on the defensive. “I had no intention of making publicsuch knowledge as I might obtain about him. I’ll own up that I did mean to tell you, for I wished you to know just what sort of a person he is. You’re altogether too interested in him, Janet, and I care too much for you to see you fooled by a fellow of his character.”
She tossed her head.
“I think your motive was purely personal.”
“Janet!” he exclaimed reproachfully.
“I can’t help it! I can’t help thinking so! I won’t believe Tom Locke is deceptive, dishonest, crooked; and it seems that is what he must be if he, a college man, is playing here for money under a false name.”
“Just so. And, as he happens to be coming down the street this minute, we’ll put him to the test. Will you let me ask him a few questions before you?”
She had turned swiftly to look; her face lost some color as she saw Locke, accompanied by two other players, all in uniforms, coming that way. They had been at the field for morning practice, and, after making a cut across lots, were following that street back into town.
As Janet hesitated, doubtful, and ready to hurry into the house, King again sought permission to interrogate the man while she listened.
“If you will leave it to me,” he promised, “I’ll not embarrass you by giving him reason to believe we have had a discussion about him.”
“Very well,” said the girl faintly, standing her ground.
Locke and his companions lifted their caps as they drew near, and Bent, unsmiling, lifted his hat. In a cold voice, he called:
“O, Locke, I say, would you mind stopping a moment?”
A flicker of surprise passed over Lefty’s face. He stopped, and his companions went on.
“How do you do, Mr. Locke?” said Janet, in a voice which she tried hard to keep steady.
“I didn’t see you at the game Tuesday, Miss Harting,” said the pitcher.
“I wasn’t there. I should have enjoyed it, but father is opposed to the game, and objects to my attending.”
“You will be missed.”
King’s teeth clicked, and the frigid expression on his face was blotted by a hot frown. He measured Locke with his eyes, getting for the first time the impression that the man was far better set up than he had supposed, and not quite as slender. Also, he was struck by the conviction that Locke was older than he had fancied; although his facelooked somewhat boyish—particularly so at a distance, upon the baseball field—upon closer inspection it appeared more manly and seemed to possess a certain sort of dignity. Surely there was nothing common or ordinary about the fellow.
“Pardon me, Locke,” said Bent, “but—do you know?—you’ve puzzled me a bit!”
“Really? In what manner?”
“At first sight of you, last Saturday, I felt that I had seen you somewhere before. I’m sure of it now.”
“I don’t recall ever having seen you outside of this town.”
“That’s not strange. I’m not a baseball player, although I am a Harvard man. Yes, there’s no doubt about it, I have seen you.”
“When?” asked Locke, as if the question came from unwilling lips. “Where?”
“At Cambridge,” asserted King, keeping his eyes fixed unwaveringly on the other man’s face, “a year ago this past spring, when Princeton played Harvard. You did not pitch, but you were on the Princeton bench.”
There was a hush, in which Bent, still keeping his eyes fixed on Locke’s face, could hear Janet breathing quickly through her parted lips. His heart leaped, for Lefty was faltering, and itseemed that the girl must perceive the faint shade of dismay that passed over his face.
“I think you are mistaken,” said the pitcher, breaking the silence at last.
King laughed.
“Youthinkso! Really? Then perhaps you will deny that you were there?”
“Yes.”
“What?”
“I deny it.”
“Do you mean to say you were not there?”
“I was not there.”
Swiftly lifting his hand, Benton pointed a level, accusing finger like a pistol at Locke’s face.
“Perhaps,” he cried, “you will make an additional denial. Perhaps you will deny that you are Paul Hazelton, of Princeton?”
Janet leaned forward, her hands clasped, her blue eyes full of suspense. So much depended on the forthcoming answer! If he were to confess that he had been named by King, she felt that henceforth she must hold him in disdain as being all that Benton had asserted he was. But if he should deny it— His lips parted to reply:
“Most certainly I deny it! I am not Paul Hazelton, of Princeton.”
The girl uttered a little cry of joyous relief:
“There, there! You see—you see, you were mistaken, Bent. I knew—I knew you must be! I knew it could not be true. I was sure Lefty—he—Mr. Locke wouldn’t do a thing like that. I’m so glad!”
But, although surprised by the man’s nerve, Benton King was not jostled from the perch of belief on which he had settled. He had thought that the fellow, fairly cornered, would not dare to make a point-blank denial. It seemed, however, that Locke had elected to play the hand out, even with the leading trumps against him. He turned and smiled into the blue eyes of the rejoicing girl.
“And I am glad to know you felt so sure I wouldn’t do a thing like that. I trust your confidence in me may never waver.”
“For real, pure bluff,” thought Bent King, “that’s the limit! But it’s a losing game. He’s fouled himself now for fair.”
Getting his breath, he spoke aloud:
“It’s strange I should make such a mistake, Mr. Locke—very strange. Of course, I know that many college players go in for summer ball on the quiet. Just to satisfy my own curiosity, I’ve sent for some information concerning Paul Hazelton, who made a record by pitching and winning two of Princeton’s big games recently. Of course, asyou say you are not Hazelton, I might have spared myself the trouble. Still, if the friend to whom I sent can get hold of a picture of Hazelton, it will be amusing to make a comparison between that likeness and yourself, just to see how strong the resemblance may be. I have an idea that Hazelton is almost your perfect double.”
“It would be rather odd, wouldn’t it, if it should prove so?” smiled Locke coolly. “Still, such things sometimes happen. I think I’ll hustle along to the hotel. Good morning, Mr. King. Good morning, Miss Harting. I trust I’ll soon have the pleasure of seeing you again at the games.”
They stood there and watched his retreating figure until he passed from view round a corner. Janet’s face, though showing satisfaction, was a bit haughty and accusing as she spoke to Bent.
“I hope you realize now,” she said bitingly, “that you have made a big blunder.”
“No,” he returned, “it was that man Hazelton who made the blunder in denying his identity.”
“Why—why, do you still think—”
“I haven’t the slightest doubt in the world—he is Paul Hazelton. I’ll prove to your satisfaction, Janet, that he is not only dishonest, but a most contemptible liar, as well.”