"Skullen will do for the other witness," said Weegman, going to the room telephone. "He'll feel bad, of course, but I told him he didn't have a show in the world." He called the operator and gave the number of a room. While Weegman was engaged, Kennedy handed the agreement over to Locke. "You sign it just as it is," he directed. "You've had your talk with Mr. Weegman, and you know what he said to you. You don't have to chin it over any more." By this time Weegman had got Skullen on the phone and asked him to come round to Kennedy's room, giving him the number. Locke sat grimly reading the contract until Skullen knocked at the door. "Maybe you'll feel bad, Mit," said Weegman, admitting the man, "but you know I told you there wasn't a show in the world of me signing you up as manager. It's settled with Locke, and I want you to witness him put his autograph to the paper. Now don't make a growl, but do as you're wanted." Skullen kept still as directed, but he looked as if Weegman's first words had surprised him a trifle. Kennedy had produced a fountain pen and thrust it into Locke's hand. "Sign right here, son," he urged. "Let's see how pretty you write." "Wait!" cried Weegman, his eyes on the southpaw, who had promptly moved up to the little table. "You haven't forgotten our talk? You understand?" "I haven't forgotten a thing," asserted Lefty, boldly and swiftly writing his name. "There it is!" CHAPTER XVI THE WRONG STOOL PIGEON Skullen and Kennedy attached their names as witnesses. The thing was done; Lefty Locke--Philip Hazelton was the name he wrote on the contract--was now manager of the Blue Stockings. He received a duplicate copy, which he folded and slipped into his pocket. "Now we're all set for business," said Bailey Weegman. "I congratulate you, Locke. One time I was afraid you didn't have sense enough to welcome Opportunity when she knocked. I'll see you later, Mit, if you're around. We've got to square away now and have a little conference. Don't cry because you didn't get the job." "Cry--nothin'!" said Skullen. "I wouldn't have taken it if you'd handed it to me with twice the salary." "Old Mit's disappointed," chuckled Weegman, when the door closed behind him, "but he doesn't want anybody to know it. He'll deny he came looking for the position, of course." Kennedy had seated himself, and Weegman drew a chair up to the table, producing a packet of papers and running them over until he found the one he wanted. "Here's a list of the men the Feds have grabbed off us," he said. "Grist, Orth, Temple, Nelson, Hyland, and Lewis. Grist is no particular loss, but Temple and Orth knock a hole in the pitching staff. Nelson was our reliance behind the bat. With Dayly and Lewis gone, the whole side of the infield is wide open. We ought to be able to fill Hyland's place in right garden." "It's a swell team that's left!" said Locke. "And you told me that Dillon was negotiating with the outlaws."