Locke stood still, staring after the swiftly receding car. He thought of pursuit, but, as a heavy rain was falling, there was no available taxi in the immediate vicinity. By the time he could secure one the limousine would have vanished, leaving no possible hope of tracing it.

Weegman and Virginia Collier together and on terms plainly more than usually friendly! What was the explanation? She had arrived in New York, after all, and it was apparent that Weegman knew where to find her when he reached the city. That his company was distinctly agreeable to her was evident from the fleeting glimpse Lefty had obtained. As Parlmee’s rival, the man held the favor of Charles Collier. Had the baseball magnate at last succeeded in breaking down the prejudice and opposition of his daughter? Was it possible that Weegman, not Parlmee, was the magnet that had drawn the girl back from Europe?

“Impossible!” exclaimed Lefty. “She’d never throw over Frank for that chuckling scoundrel.”

But was it impossible? Vaguely he recalled something like a change in the tone of Virginia’s last letters to Janet; somehow they had not seemed as frank and confiding as former letters. And eventually, to Janet’s worriment and perplexity, Virginia had ceased to write at all.

Before Locke flashed a picture of Parlmee as he had appeared in Indianapolis, nervous, perplexed, and, by his own admission, greatly worried. Parlmee had confessed that he had received only two very unsatisfactory letters from Virginia since she had sailed for Europe with her father, and more than a month had elapsed since the second of these had come to his hands. Of itself, this was enough to upset a man as much in love with Miss Collier as Parlmee undoubtedly was. But, at the time, Lefty had vaguely felt that the automobile salesman was holding something back, and now he was sure. Parlmee’s pride, and his secret hope that he was mistaken, had prevented him from confessing that the girl had changed in her attitude toward him.

True, Virginia had cabled that she was sailing on the Victoria, and had asked him to meet her, and although she had not sailed on that ship, yet she was now in New York. Here was a riddle to solve. Did the solution lie in the assumption that, having decided to break her tentative engagement in a face-to-face talk with Parlmee, the girl’s courage had failed her, leading her to change her plans? The fact that he was with her now seemed to prove that Weegman’s information regarding her movements and intentions had been more accurate than Parlmee’s.

It did not appear plausible that such a girl could be persuaded, of her own free will, to throw over Franklin Parlmee for Bailey Weegman. But perhaps she was not exercising her own free will; perhaps some powerful and mastering influence had been brought to bear upon her. Was it not possible, also, that her father, whose singular behavior had lately aroused comment and speculation, was likewise a victim of this mastering influence? While the idea was a trifle bizarre, and savored of sensational fiction, such things did happen, if reports of them, to be found almost daily in the newspapers, could be believed. But when Locke tried to imagine the chuckling and oily Weegman as a hypnotist, dominating both Collier and his daughter by the power of an evil spell, he failed. It was too preposterous.

One thing, however, was certain: evil powers of a materialistic nature were at work, and they had succeeded in making a decided mess of Charles Collier’s affairs. To defeat them, the strategy and determination of united opposition would be required, and, in view of the task, the opposition seemed weak and insufficient. Even Parlmee, who might render some aid, was not to be reached. He had obtained a month’s leave from business in order to settle his own suspicions and fears, but he had not returned to New York. Where was he?

Lefty glanced over his shoulder as the Herald clock began to hammer out the hour of nine. Then he set his face westward and made for the Pennsylvania Station at a brisk pace. Reaching his destination, he wrote and sent to Parlmee’s office address a message that contained, in addition to the positive assurance that Virginia was in town and had been seen with Weegman, a statement of the southpaw’s suspicions, which amounted almost to convictions, concerning the whole affair. There didn’t seem to be much more that he could do. He had secured his accommodations on the Florida Mail, but he expected to be back on the field of battle in the North within the shortest possible time.

Before going aboard his train, he bought the latest edition of an evening newspaper, and, naturally, turned at once to the sporting page. Almost by instinct his eyes found something of personal concern, a statement that Manager Garrity would strengthen the Rockets by securing an unknown “dummy” pitcher who had been discovered by Scout Skullen, and was said to be a wizard. Skullen, it was intimated, was off with a commission from Garrity to sign up his find.

There was no longer any doubt in Locke’s mind that Skullen had watched the work of Mysterious Jones, and intended to nail the mute for the Rockets. Even now, he had departed on his mission. Probably he had left at three-thirty-four on the very train Lefty had meant to take. If so, he would reach Florida many hours ahead of the southpaw, and would have plenty of time to accomplish his purpose. True, Locke had made a fair and square bargain with Wiley and Jones, but, having been unable to get Jones’ signature on a Blue Stockings contract at the time, the deal would not be binding if the mute chose to go back on it.

Not a little apprehensive, Lefty sent still another message to Cap’n Wiley. After which he went aboard the train, found his berth, and turned in.