"Oh, what's the use?" said Hulbert. "He'll break his contract. We've lost Sutton; we'll lose Anson."
"It is true," I replied, "that we have lost Sutton; but we haven't lost Anson."
Time passed with Anson still insisting that he wouldn't come to Chicago. Mr. Hulbert was quite inclined to let him go. I persisted in refusing to give my consent. Anson continued to "bluff;" said that he wouldn't come West; that he'd break his contract before he'd come.
In the following spring, in advance of the opening of the season, the big first baseman came out to Chicago, determined to secure his release. He offered to pay $1,000 to be relieved from his contract, but Hulbert was, now immovable. Anson then came to me. He went over the whole situation. The claims of his fiancee were urged. I told him she would be happier in Chicago. He referred to the offer of $2,.500 a year—far more than he had ever received—and said:
"I can't afford to lose the money."
"You can't afford to break your contract," I replied.
"That's about so, too," he acknowledged; but still he held out. Meanwhile, in his determination to remain at Philadelphia, Anson had subjected himself to daily interviews in the Chicago papers, in which he stubbornly declared his intention of remaining and playing in the East. Mr. Hulbert was convinced that Anson was lost. I told him not to fear.
"Sutton has broken his contract, hasn't he?" he repeated.
"Yes," I answered; "but I never told you that you