Frazer gazed at him pityingly. "Swell chance you've got! About one in fifty thousand. You haven't got the makings of an ordinary second-division team left." "I know the Feds have copped off some of our best men, but--" "Some! Some! I should so remark! But don't blame it all on the Feds. They were practically invited to come in and take their pick. The bars were let down. All your players knew there was trouble. They heard all sorts of rumors that made them nervous and uncertain. They didn't see any contracts coming their way to be signed. They knew there was something the matter with Collier. It was even said he'd gone crazy. They knew Kennedy was going to get out from under. There was gossip about old men being shunted and new blood taken on. What they didn't know was where they were at. It was all nicely worked to get them to take the running long jump." "Then you believe there was a plot to smash the team?" "You don't have to be a mind reader to get my opinion, but I'm saying this here private, man to man. I'm not goin' round talking for publication." "But you're wrong about Kennedy getting out; he was dropped." "Was he?" "Sure." Frazer twisted his face into a queer grimace. "Old Jack Kennedy was too wise to stick on under any such conditions. He knew what it meant, and I'll guarantee that he wouldn't have managed the Blue Stockings this year for twice the salary he got last. What I've got against him is that he didn't put you wise before you tied up." "It was on his advice that I consented to manage the team," replied Locke. "What?" exclaimed Frazer. "Is that straight? He advised you to--The infernal old scoundrel!" Locke warmed immediately in defense of Kennedy. The manager of the Wolves listened, uncertain, shaking his head doubtfully. "He may not have meant it," he admitted presently, "but he's got you in bad, boy. You haven't got a show against the powers you'll have to buck, and the conditions that were fixed up for you in advance." "As to that, time will tell," said Lefty. "I'm going to make one almighty try. First, I've got to plug the gaps. What have you got to sell that I want?" "Nothing that you'll pay the price for. I know Collier's policy." "Collier is in Europe, and I'm manager of the team, with full authority to make any deals I please. Here's my contract." He placed it before old Ben. "Collier will have to stand for any trade I put through. I'll buy Smoke Jordan off you." "You won't! I won't sell him." "Then how about Jack Keeper? You've got Red Callahan, and I need a third baseman." Frazer finished his soup. "I won't sell you Keeper," he said; "but I'll trade him. I need a center fielder in the place of Courtney, who's retired. I'll trade Keeper for Herman Brock."