He's wrong! Phil thought. It's only his opinion. There were other clubs in this league. He stood up slowly. He was a little pale and shaky. His lips felt glued together.

``I think you're wrong, Eddie,'' he said finally.

Eddie nodded. ``Okay. You'll get your pay in the morning.''

Phil turned and left the room, hearing Eddie say: ``Someday you'll see I was right.''

Phil shut the door behind him. Outside in the dressing room, Frankie Ricco sat on the bench dressed in his street clothes.

``What happened?'' Frankie asked.

Phil said: ``I got my release.''

``You crazy?''

Phil shrugged.

``What for?''

Phil sighed.

Frankie shook his head. ``I don't get it.''

``I don't know,'' Phil said.

They were silent for a few moments. Then Frankie said: ``What are you gonna do?''

Phil started to take his clothes off and Frankie sat down on the bench again. Phil took off one shoe and stared at it.

``Don't take it like this,'' Frankie said. ``Hell, plenty of guys get let out and come back later. The leagues are full of guys like that.''

Phil was very quiet.

``What are you gonna do, Phil?''

Phil did not answer.

``Why not try another club?''

Phil looked up. What the hell right did Eddie have saying a thing like that?

``Springfield's in tomorrow,'' Frankie said. ``Talk to Whitey Jackson.''

He just didn't know what he was talking about, saying a thing like that.

``Will you do it, Phil?''

``Do what?''