"You haven't got his name on a contract; you hadn't time. If you had, Wiley'd told me." "I made a fair trade for him before I went North." Into Skullen's eyes there came a look of understanding and satisfaction. His lips curled back from his ugly teeth. "You didn't have any authority to make a trade then, for you weren't manager of the Stockings. You can't put anything like that over on me. If you don't chase yourself, I'll throw you over the fence." Sensing an impending clash, with the exception of the mute and the catcher, the Wind Jammers ceased their desultory practice and watched for developments. A portion of the spectators, also becoming aware that something unusual was taking place, turned their attention to the little triangular group not far from the visitors' bench. "You couldn't get Jones if you threw me over into Georgia," said Locke, unruffled. "It won't do you any good to start a scrap." "Permit me to impersonate the dove of peace," pleaded Cap'n Wiley. "Lefty is absolutely voracious in his statement that he made a fair and honorable compact with me, by which Jones is to become the legitimate chattel of the Blue Stockings. Still," he added, shaking his head and licking his lips, "flesh is weak and liable to err. If I had seen fifty thousand simoleons coming my way in exchange for the greatest pitcher of modern times, I'm afraid I should have lacked the energy to side-step them. The root of all evil has sometimes tempted me from the path of rectitude. But now Lefty is here, and the danger is over. It's no use, Skully, old top; the die is cast. You may as well submit gracefully to the inveterable." Muttering inaudibly, Skullen turned and walked away. "I have a contract in my pocket ready for the signature of Jones," said Lefty. "Will you get him to put his name to it before the game starts?" "It will give me a pang of pleasure to do so," was the assurance. There on the field, envied by his teammates, Mysterious Jones used Locke's fountain pen to place his signature--A. B. Jones was the name he wrote--upon the contract that bound him to the Blue Stockings. What the initials stood for not even Wiley knew. For a moment the mute seemed to hesitate, but the Marine Marvel urged him on, and the deed was done. "If you cater to his little giddyocyncracies," said the sailor, "you'll find him a pearl beyond price. Unless you're afraid Skully may return and mar your pleasure, you may sit on the bench with us and watch him toy with the local bric-a-brac. It is bound to be a painfully one-sided affair." "Skullen," laughed Lefty, "has ceased to cause me special apprehension. The contract is signed now."