[legendsport]

Washington, DC: July 19, 1920:

Rufus Barrell shook his head and leaned back in his chair. He had a stack of scouting reports in his hand. He waved them at Possum Daniels, who was sitting across from him.

"You would think that having been a pitcher himself, Randle would be less tough on hurlers," Rufus said.

Possum smirked and replied, "Well, son, he may be one of those types what cain't let go."

Rufus frowned and then asked, "What do you mean, can't let go?"

"Do you remember much about him back when he was playing?" Possum asked.

Rufus tilted his head back and looked up at the ceiling, thinking. "No, not really. I seem to remember he was a hot ticket when he was young..." he trailed off and nodded, adding, "Oh, I see what you mean."

Rufus Randle, the scout the two friends were discussing, had been a very good pitcher for the Border Association's Cincinnati Monarchs at a young age, winning 21, 24 and 25 games starting in '89 when he was just 21 years old. When FABL started and Cincinnati was not a part of it, Randle had pitched for Cleveland and went 12-22, but still looked pretty good in general. Then the Foresters released him when he turned up with a dead arm in the spring of his fifth season - just 25 years old. He hooked on with the Chiefs, was released before appearing in a game, then went to the Keystones where a decent year had been followed by a dismal one and he'd ended up being a journeyman in the minors with a few FABL cups of coffee (all poor) thrown in.

"You're saying he's bitter," Rufus said.

"I don't know about that... but he went from being the meanest dog in the yard to a mangy, lame cur in a couple of years. I'm thinking that left him with some scars of the kind you cain't see, son."

Rufus nodded and said, "Possum you have surprisingly good insight, you know that?"

Possum laughed and said, "Well, son, I can relate. Everytime I look at a T.R. Goins or Dick York it makes me sick in that 'coulda been me' way!"

He winked at Rufus and added, "You though, you're the strange one. No bitterness from what I can tell, son."

Rufus sighed and replied, "Yes, well. I can't say that's true. But I can say there's never been anything I could do about it, so no sense taking it out on the world."

He slapped the reports down and said, "I'll talk to Randle. He needs to lighten up - not every pitcher is 'mediocre' or worse. If he wants to keep working here, he'd better give us better reports."

There was a knock on the door and his secretary poked her head in.

Rufus asked, "Yes, Ruth?"

"Mr. Barrell, Mr. Miles Bigsby is here to see you," Ruth said.

Possum's eyes got wide in a comical way and his mouth made an 'O' shape. Rufus would have laughed, but the wave of anger that filled him at hearing the surname Bigsby prevented that.

"He say what he wanted?" he asked as calmly as he could.

Ruth looked nonplussed - normally this wasn't the type of thing she was asked. "No, sir," she said.

Rufus sighed and mentally fought down his anger. "Show him in, please," he said.

As Ruth opened the door, Possum stood up and grabbed his hat. "I'm off," he said. "Galveston, here I come," he added with another wink.

Possum and Miles Bigsby passed each other in the office. Possum nodded tightly, but said nothing. Bigsby muttered a "Good day, Mr. Daniels," as he passed.

Rufus gestured towards the chair Possum had just vacated. "Please have a seat, Mr. Bigsby," he said, gritting his teeth.

Miles Bigsby took a deep breath and sat. He looked uncomforable, which was not something Rufus could ever remember seeing.

"I'm sure you know why I'm here," Miles said by way of greeting.

"I imagine it's something to do with your nephew's thugs beating my son to within an inch of his life," Rufus snarled in reply.

Miles coughed and said, "Yes, I am here to apologize for that."

Rufus wasn't feeling particularly generous so he said, "OK, well, let's hear it."

Miles frowned as if he expected graciousness. "Well," Rufus thought, "You're not getting it."

"What Charlie did was unforgiveable. My late brother's influence on both his sons... and my own... has been rather unfortunate."

"Unfortunate?" Rufus said with a cocked eyebrow.

"Yes... my brother was a hard man and didn't play by any rules save his own. That trait passed to my own son, and I found to my dismay to his namesake Charles Jr, though possibly not to Samuel."

"From what I hear, it was Sam's big mouth that started the whole mess," Rufus replied.

"Sam is a self-important prig. And that is why his brother, and not him, is my heir apparent with the Gothams. Frankly I expected more from Charlie, but he has the same short fuse as his father."

"He had the wrong man beaten, Mr. Bigsby," Rufus said, then held up a hand as Bigsby was about to reply, adding, "Not that I would be in a better mood if it had been Joe, and not Rollie, that had taken a beating."

"Understood. This whole mess... I can't say how sorry I am," Bigsby said and then added, "So what I have done is wired $50,000 into the bank accounts of both Joe and Roland."

Rufus' mouth dropped open. He was literally speechless.

Bigsby frowned again, "Before you give me an idealistic, 'I can't be bought' speech, I would like to say that this is not about that."

Rufus sputtered - he had been ready to refuse. Bigsby gave him a half-smile.

"What this is... is just fair recompense for a situation that was 100% caused by Sam and Charlie. I've spoken to both my nephews. They know who holds true power in our family... me."

Rufus frowned a bit, but Bigsby just tipped a hand at him and continued, "It's true. I've raised all three of my brother's children and am more father to them than he was able to be. So I hold sway over them. And Sam admitted that what he said to Joe was part revenge because Joe's wife had rejected his advances, and part spite because he wanted to keep Joe from signing with Michael's football club. And Charlie had a knee-jerk reaction to his brother's having his jaw broken. Your son packs quite a punch, Rufus."

Rufus gave a rueful chuckle and just nodded.

"Therefore, as my family wronged both Joseph and Roland, my family will offer them recompense. This is no bribe, this is just what I can do to end this fairly and before it goes any further. As you and I are part of the FABL family, I would trust that this will be an end to the matter and that we can continue our professional relationship as normal."

Rufus nodded. He was still stunned. Bigsby had just given away $100,000 without batting an eye.

Bigsby stood up and thanked Rufus for his time. On his way out, he turned and added, "Oh, and tell Joe that there will be no football team in New York anyway. The legislature repealed the Blue Law, but only as it applies to FABL. All other sports are still prohibited on Sundays."

This was news to Rufus and he couldn't keep the surprise off his face. Bigsby tipped his hat and left the office, leaving Rufus wondering if Miles had been the one to shoot down his son's plans for a football club, and had used Sam as a cat's paw.

He shook his head as if to clear his mind. Then he called out to his secretary, "Ruth, please get Rufus Randle on the phone."

Time to get back to the business of keeping his scouts in line.