$10,000 on the table, I asked, "Mike, how would you like that check for $10,000 filled out payable to your order?"
"Would Mike Kelly like $10,000? I should, smile."
"But that's not all, Mike. Here's a three years' contract, and I'm authorized to let you fill in the amount of salary yourself."
His face blanched. "What does this mean? Does it mean that I'm to join the League? Quit the Brotherhood? Go back on the boys."
"That's just what it means. It means that you go to Boston to-night."
"Well," said he, "I must have time to think about this."
"There is mighty little time, Mike. If you don't want the money, somebody else will get it. When can you let me know?"
"In an hour and a half," he answered.
"What are you going to do, meanwhile? Consult a lawyer?"
"Lawyer? Naw; you're good enough lawyer for me," and, saying that he would be back in an hour and a half, he left the room.
At the appointed time I was awaiting him—and he came, true to appointment. I didn't see much of encouragement in his face. His jaw was set, and there was a bright sparkle to his eye that somehow seemed to augur ill for the success of my mission.
"Well, Mike, where have you been?" I asked.
"I've been taking a walk," he answered. "I went 'way up town and back."