shuffle first; I'll cut," said Rowell. His lips seemed parched and he moistened them now and then, which was unusual for so cool a gambler. Mellish fidgeted around with lowered brow. Bert shuffled the cards as nonchalantly as if he had merely a $5 bill on the result. When each had taken a card, Bert held an ace and Pony a king. Pony shuffled and the turn up was a spot in Pony's hand and queen in that of his opponent. Bert smiled and drops began to show on Pony's forehead in spite of his efforts at self-control. No word was spoken by either players or onlookers. After the next deal Pony again lost. His imperturbability seemed to be leaving him. He swept the cards from the table with an oath. "Bring another pack," he said hoarsely.
Bert smiled at him across the table. He thought, of course, that they were playing for even stakes.
Mellish couldn't stand it any longer. He retired to one of the inner rooms. The first deal with the new pack turned in Pony's favor and he seemed to feel that his luck had changed, but the next deal went against him and also the one following.
"It's your shuffle," said Rowell, pushing the cards towards his opponent. Bert did not touch the cards, but smiled across at the gambler.
"What's the matter with you? Why don't you shuffle?"
"I don't have to," said Bert, quietly, "I've won five."
Rowell drew his hand across his perspiring brow and stared at the man across the table. Then he seemed to pull himself together.
"So you have," he said, "I hadn't noticed it. Excuse me. I guess I'll go now."
"Sit where you are and let us have a game for something more modest. I don't care about these splurges myself and I don't suppose you do— now."
"Thanks, no. I told you this was my last game. As to the splurge, if I had the money I would willingly try it again. So long."
When Mellish came in and saw that the game was over he asked where Pony was.
"He knew when he had enough, I guess," answered Bert. "He's gone home."
"Come in here, Bert. I want to speak with you," said Mellish.
When they were alone Mellish turned to him.
"I suppose Pony didn't tell you where the money is to come from?"
"No, he told you. That was enough for me."
"Well, there's no reason why you should not know now. I promised silence till the game was finished. He's insured his life for $100,000 and is going to commit suicide so that you may be paid."
"My God!" cried Bert, aghast. "Why did you let the game go on?"
"I tried to stop it, but I had given my word and you——"
"Well, don't let us stand chattering here. He's at the Metropolitan, isn't he? Then come along. Hurry into your coat."
Mellish knew the number of Rowell's room and so no time was lost in the hotel office with inquiries. He tried the door, but, as he expected, it was locked.
"Who's that?" cried a voice within.
"It's me—Mellish. I want to speak with you a moment."
"I don't want to see you."
"Bert wants to say something. It's important. Let us in."
"I won't let you in. Go away and don't make a fuss. It will do no good.
You can get in ten minutes from now."
"Look here, Pony, you open that door at once, or I'll kick it in. You hear me? I want to see you a minute, and then you can do what you like," said Bert, in a voice that meant business.
After a moment's hesitation Rowell opened the door and the two stepped in. Half of the carpet had been taken up and the bare floor was covered with old newspapers. A revolver lay on the table, also writing materials and a half-finished letter. Pony was in his shirt sleeves and he did not seem pleased at the interruption.
"What do you want?" he asked shortly.
"Look here, Pony," said Bert, "I have confessed to Mellish and I've come to confess to you. I want you to be easy with me and hush the thing up. I cheated. I stocked the cards."
"You're a liar," said Rowell, looking him straight in the eye.
"Don't say that again," cried Ragstock, with his fingers twitching.
"There's mighty few men I would take that from."
"You stocked the cards on me? I'd like to see the man that could do it!"
"You were excited and didn't notice it."
"You're not only a liar, but you're an awkward liar. I have lost the money and I'll pay it. It would have been ready for you now, only I had a letter to write. Mellish has told you about the insurance policy and my will attached to it. Here they are. They're yours. I'm no kicker. I know when a game's played fair."
Bert took the policy and evidently intended to tear it in pieces, while Mellish, with a wink at him, edged around to get at the revolver. Ragstock's eye caught the name in big letters at the head of the policy, beautifully engraved. His eyes opened wide, then he sank into a chair and roared with laughter. Both the other men looked at him in astonishment.
"What's the matter?" asked Mellish.
"Matter? Why, this would have been a joke on Pony. It would do both of you some good to know a little about business as well as of gambling. The Hardfast Life Insurance Company went smash six months ago. It's the truth this time, Pony, even if I didn't stock the cards. Better make some inquiries in business circles before you try to collect any money from this institution. Now, Pony, order up the drinks, if anything can be had at this untimely hour. We are your guests so you are expected to be hospitable. I've had all the excitement I want for one night. We'll call it square and begin over again."
"Where Ignorance Is Bliss."
The splendid steamship Adamant, of the celebrated Cross Bow line, left New York on her February trip under favorable auspices. There had just been a storm on the ocean, so there was every chance that she would reach Liverpool before the next one was due.
Capt. Rice had a little social problem to solve at the outset, but he smoothed that out with the tact which is characteristic of him. Two Washington ladies—official ladies—were on board, and the captain, old British sea-dog that he was, always had trouble in the matter of precedence with Washington ladies. Capt. Rice never had any bother with the British aristocracy, because precedence is all set down in the bulky volume of "Burke's Peerage," which the captain kept in his cabin, and so there was no difficulty. But a republican country is supposed not to meddle with precedence. It wouldn't, either, if it weren't for the women.
So it happened that Mrs. Assistant-Attorney-to-the-Senate Brownrig came to the steward and said that, ranking all others on board, she must sit at the right hand of the captain. Afterwards Mrs. Second-Adjutant-to- the-War-Department Digby came to the same perplexed official and said she must sit at the captain's right hand because in Washington she took precedence over everyone else on board. The bewildered steward confided his woes to the captain, and the captain said he would attend to the matter. So he put Mrs. War-Department on his right hand and then walked down the deck with Mrs. Assistant-Attorney and said to her:
"I want to ask a favor, Mrs. Brownrig. Unfortunately I am a little deaf in the right ear, caused, I presume, by listening so much with that ear to the fog horn year in and year out. Now, I always place the lady whose conversation I wish most to enjoy on my left hand at table. Would you oblige me by taking that seat this voyage? I have heard of you, you see, Mrs. Brownrig, although you have never crossed with me before."
"Why, certainly, captain," replied Mrs. Brownrig; "I feel especially complimented."
"And I assure you, madam," said the polite captain, "that I would not for the world miss a single word that," etc.