Page:Lefty o' the Bush.djvu/182

 CHAPTER XXVIII

THE GAGE FLUNG DOWN

Hutchinson laughed in a mirthless manner, no sound escaping his thin lips. The young man had refused a direct answer, and nimbly made his escape from the corner in which Hutch had tried to pin him, but it seemed that he might as well have owned up without squirming.

"It's a peculiar affair," said the manager, after a few moments, during which Lefty sat frowning at the newspaper he still held in his hand. "Riley proposes to protest against the counting of any games we may win with you pitching. It seems that old man Cope is getting cold feet, for he has instructed me to fish up another pitcher or two without delay, and I've got some lines out already."

The pitcher lifted his eyes and gazed steadily at Hutchinson, as if looking straight and deep into the hidden chambers of the man's mind, there to read his secret thoughts and purposes. In spite of himself, Hutch felt his icy self-control