CHAPTER XXXIV NOTHING ELSE POSSIBLE “Any answer?” Lefty raised his head and stared stupidly at the boy for an instant. Then he came to himself. “Yes! Give me a pencil――quick!” Snatching the stub from the other’s hand, he turned the message over, placed the paper against the side of the building, and hastily scrawled a few words. “There!” he exclaimed, thrusting it at the boy; “send that off right away. Don’t lose a minute. Here. Keep the change.” It was a silver dollar he handed the boy. Without waiting for thanks, he darted back into the hotel, hastily secured a time-table, and found that there was a train leaving in less than half an hour. It was only after he had reached his room and begun to strip off his baseball togs that he realized he must let Brennan know in some way of what he planned to do. “There’s no ’phone at the park,” he muttered, throwing a shoe into a corner. “I haven’t time, anyway.” He tore off his stockings, flung shirt and trousers on the floor, and made a dive for his street clothes. “Still, they’ll all be back here for dinner,” he went on aloud. “If I leave a note with Buck, he’ll put the old man wise. It’s tough! Poor little girl!” His voice broke just the least bit, but he went on rapidly with his dressing, and in less than ten minutes was ready to go. He gave no thought to the consequences of his leaving in this manner and at this time. Janet had called him for help; he must go to her. Besides, even Brennan, though he might growl and grumble a little, would understand how impossible it was for him to take any other course. Finding a sheet of paper, Lefty hastily scrawled a note to Buck, telling his chum where he had gone and why, and asking him to inform the manager. Having folded the paper and written Fargo’s name on the outside, he placed it on the middle of the table, where the big backstop could not fail to see it the instant he entered the room. That finished, he snatched his hat, and darted down the stairs without waiting for the elevator. At the station he had nearly fifteen minutes to wait, but at last the train pulled in. Lefty thought that the journey would never end. The train seemed to crawl along at a snail’s speed, stopping at every little hamlet by the way. He blamed the doctor at Kingsbridge for having suggested such an impossibly out-of-the-way place as Billings. He kept looking at his watch till he might better have held it in his hand. He bought a paper, and tossed it away unread. He opened a magazine, only to fling it aside impatiently. And all the time the thought of Janet, alone and helpless in this terrible situation, never left his mind.