“What?” exploded the stocky manager. “I don’t believe it!” The reporter pulled a folded paper from his pocket and handed it to Brennan. “There’s the proof,” he said quietly. The manager jerked it open and cast his eyes hurriedly down the sheet. Wrath clouded his face. “Elgin!” he growled throwing back his head. “Where is he? Just let me―― Hey, you Elgin! Come here!” His voice and manner had drawn several curious players near, among them Buck Fargo. The disgruntled pitcher, hearing his name uttered in that tone, came reluctantly over, expecting a call-down for his work on the slab. What followed was totally unexpected. “You can pack!” Brennan snapped, eying the fellow with a look of scathing contempt. “I’m going to send you down to the ‘Lobsters.’ They want a pitcher, and they can have you――for keeps, if I can’t sell you.” The Lobsters were a much scoffed-at minor league club. Elgin’s jaw dropped and his face flamed scarlet. “You’re going to send me down to the――the Lobsters?” he stammered. “I am. I’ve found out the dirty trick you played on Locke in Ashland, and I wouldn’t have a scoundrel like you on my team if you was the best pitcher in the country――which you ain’t, by a long shot.” For an instant the pitcher stood staring at him, an indescribable expression on his face. He cast a single swift glance at the players standing around. Then, without a word, he turned and walked hastily away through the gathering crowd. “Good riddance!” growled Brennan. He stood chewing meditatively on the stub of an unlighted cigar. After a moment he shrugged his shoulders and pushed his way through the crowd to where Lefty and a few of the Blue Stockings were hemmed in by the throng. “You did a fine job, kid,” he said gruffly, thrusting out a square, stubby hand. “Shake!” Without hesitation Lefty gripped his fingers. Brennan’s treatment had caused him some bitter hours, but this was no time to harbor resentment. The short manager turned to Kennedy, his mouth twisted in a wry smile. “You can kick me good and hard, Ken,” he said. “I sure fell flat on this deal.” His eyes twinkled, and the smile broadened to a grin. “I sort of think this boy belongs to me. I had the first rights to him, and I reckon I’ll pull him back now.” “Not if I know it!” laughed Kennedy. “You were thick enough to release him unconditionally. He belongs to me now, and you bet he’s going to stay.”