Part 3 (1/2)
”By George, Mr. Matson,” he said, ”this town has fallen for you all right.
The whole place is buzzing with that affair of last night, and I don't wonder. If it hadn't been for you, the coroner and undertaker would be busy this morning.”
”Oh, I don't know,” responded Joe. ”If I hadn't got to it someone else would. It wasn't much of a blaze anyway, and ten to one it would have gone out of itself.”
”Modest I see,” laughed Westland. ”They say that all great men are. But you can't get anyone in this town to take such a slighting view of it as you do yourself.”
”You said last night that you had a business matter you wanted to see me about,” suggested Joe, in order to change the subject.
”So I have,” replied Westland, ”and I've traveled over a thousand miles to talk to you personally about it.”
He lighted a fresh cigar while Joe waited indifferently. He had been interviewed so much in the last year or two on all conceivable subjects that his curiosity was scarcely awakened.
”Of course, Mr. Matson,” began Westland, ”you've heard of the new major league that has just been organized and----”
Joe's bored feeling vanished and he was wide-awake in an instant. So this was what the visit meant! Jim's prediction was coming true sooner than he had expected.
”Pardon me, Mr. Westland,” he interrupted, ”but if this is about baseball, I have a friend visiting me who is as much interested in the game as I am.
In fact, he's a player himself. It's Jim Barclay of the Giants. You've heard of him, of course. h.e.l.lo there, Jim!” he called, as he threw open the door into the adjoining room, where Jim was watching a distracting dimple come and go in Clara's cheek as they chatted together.
”Really, Mr. Matson,” said Westland, visibly fl.u.s.tered, ”much as I would like to meet Mr. Barclay, I would rather----”
But just then Jim came strolling in, and Joe hastened to introduce him. He had used the stratagem in order to have a witness at hand. He was determined that no false or twisted version of the interview should be given out broadcast in the interest of the new league.
Despite his annoyance, Westland was diplomat enough to make the best of the situation, and he acknowledged the introduction graciously.
”Mr. Westland called in connection with the new league we were reading about yesterday, Jim,” explained Joe, ”and I knew that you would be interested and so I called you in.”
Jim's jaw set a trifle, but he only nodded and Westland went on:
”I'm a business man, Mr. Matson, and so are you. So I won't beat around the bush, but come straight to the point. You're the greatest pitcher in the country, and we want to secure your services for the new league. We've got oceans of money behind us, and we're prepared to let you name your own terms. We'll give you anything in reason--or out of reason for that matter--if you'll sign up with us.”
He delivered himself of this with the air of a man sure of having his offer accepted. But if he had expected Joe to gasp with astonishment and delight, he was disappointed.
”Well,” said Joe quietly, after a moment's pause, ”that's certainly a very liberal proposition----”
”Oh, we're no pikers,” put in Westland complacently.
”But there's one little thing in the way,” Joe went on; ”and that is that I'm already signed up with the Giants for the next two years.”
Westland saw that he was in for a tussle and braced himself.
”Of course, of course,” he said, with the tolerant smile of a man of the world. ”I didn't think for a minute that McRae would let his kingpin run around loose without being signed up. But you know what baseball contracts are. They're so jug handled that no court would uphold them for a minute.
In fact, McRae wouldn't dare to bring it into court. He may threaten and bl.u.s.ter, but that will be the end of it. That ten-day clause alone would kill it with any judge.”
”Even admitting that I could break my contract with the Giants and get away with it,” said Joe, leading him on, ”what guarantee would you have that I wouldn't do the same thing with you if I should want to?”
”The guarantee of your own self-interest,” replied Westland, flicking the ash from his cigar. ”We'd make it so much worth your while to stay with us that there wouldn't be any inducement to go anywhere else.”
”In other words,” said Joe, with a touch of sarcasm, ”if you once bought me you'd rely on your money to see that I'd stay bought.”