The journey northward was uneventful. Locke had wired both Kennedy and Parlmee when he would arrive in New York, asking them to meet him at the Great Eastern. He did not stop off at the home town of the Blue Stockings, choosing to disregard for the present Weegman's imperative order for him to report at once at the office of the club. By mail he had formally notified the secretary of the club of the trade with Frazer and the purchase of Mysterious Jones, directing that checks be sent immediately to the manager of the Wolves and to Cap'n Wiley. He had done this as a matter of formality, but he felt sure that Weegman would interfere and hold up the payments, even though they could, sooner or later, be legally enforced. Delay matters as he might, the rascal could not bring about the repudiation of business deals entered into by the properly authorized manager of the team. Locke hoped to have the situation well in hand before he should find it necessary to beard the lion in all his fury. The showdown must come before long, but ere that time the southpaw hoped to fill his hand on the draw. When he had sent out the players' contracts from Indianapolis he had instructed the men, after signing, to mail them directly to him in New York. He had made this request emphatic, warning each man not to return his signed contract to the office of the Blue Stockings. He had Kennedy to thank for suggesting this procedure. "If the contracts go back to the club office," old Jack had said, "Weegman may get hold of them and hold out on you. That would leave you in the dark; you wouldn't know who had signed up and who hadn't, and so you couldn't tell where you stood. It would keep you muddled so you wouldn't know what holes were left to be plugged. If you undertook to find out how the land lay by wiring inquiries to the players, you'd make them uneasy, and set them wondering what was doing. Some of them might even try belated dickering with the Feds, and, while you could hold them by law, it would complicate things still more. If the newspapers got wise and printed things, the stock of the club would slump still more, which would help the dirty bunch that's trying to knock the bottom out of it." Beyond question, Kennedy was foxy and farseeing, and Locke looked forward expectantly to another heart-to-heart talk with the old man at the Great Eastern. A big bundle of mail was delivered to Lefty after he registered at the hotel. Immediately on reaching his rooms he made haste to open the letters. "Look, Janet!" he cried exultantly, after he had torn open envelope after envelope. "Here are the contracts--Grant, Welsh, Hyland, Savage, Dillon, Reilley, and Lumley all have signed, as well as the youngsters who didn't attract special attention from the Feds. Not a man lost that the outlaws hadn't gobbled up before Weegman so kindly forced the management upon me. We've got the makings of a real team left. Some of the deadwood has been cleared away, that's all."