Demonic ald,
= Bellefonte, Pa., June 21, 1929.
TRUE WORTH.
True worth is in being, not seeming,
In doing each day that goes by
Some little good—not in the dreaming
Of great things to do by-and-by.
For whatever men may say in blindness
And in spite of the fancies of youth,
There's nothing so kingly as kindness,
And nothing so royal as truth, ’
We get back our mete as we measure,
We cannot do wrong and feel right,
Nor can we give pain and gain pleasure.
For justice avenges each slight.
The air for the wing of the sparrow
The bush for the robin and wren
But always the path that is narrow
And straight for the children of men.
—ALICE CARY.
THE BIG WINNER
Installed in an easy chair in a dark
corner of that somberly lighted bar—
a quaint contrast to the brilliantly
illuminated, somewhat ,garish res-
taurant, adjoining—Tresholm became
suddenly tense, assailed by a wave of
tantalizing, almost torturing memor-
jes. He bent forward, his lean face
Strained, his eyes fixed upon the ap-
proaching figure. :
A strange flood of memories this,
to haunt the brain so suddenly—the
pungent perfume of the Campagna
herbs, the April sunlight flooding the
plain, even to the out-skirts of the
city, the dark and splendid outline of
St. Peter's itself, the music of those
hasty words, the longing of her dark
“eyes, then the thundering of hoofs,
the crack of the huntsman’'s whip—
off again into the mild distraction of
r
the hunt! But oh, that perfume, how |
it clung!
“It was Lena who recognized him—
a child when he had left Rome. She
caught at the arm of her companion.
“Margherita, see, it is Signor Tres-
bolm !”
He came forward then. The world
of sweet fancies and' memories had
slipped back where it belonged. He
smiled into her surprised beautiful
eyes and raised her fingers to his lips
in approved fashion. s
“Princess,”. he murmured.
“You, Andrew!” she replied.
The seconds possessed their full
measure of bitter sweetness. Lena
claimed her few words, and the
princess turned towards their com-
panion—a somewhat weary-looking
elderly man.
“Duke,” she said, “let me present
one of my dear English friends—Mr.
Andrew Tresholm—the Duca di Mich-
ani. Signor Tresholm was at his
Embassy in Rome when my husband
interested himself in politics—five,
six, alas, seven. years ago.”
The two men shook hands.
“I knew your chief very well, of
course, Signore,” the duke acknowl-
edged.
A waiter and the manager himself
were hovering in the background,
anxious to welcome such distinguish-
ed clients. The princess turned to
Tresholm.
“You are not by any fortunate
chance alone?” she asked ... “Yes?
Then do join us. Indeed, if you will
you will relieve me of some anxiety.
Here, it is difficult to explain. This
little enterprise of ours is undertaken
much against my will. You would
be of great assistance if you would
join us.”
“I will do so with pleasure,” Tres-
holm: accepted. “I must warn you,
though, that I seldom dance.”
“Yet I seem to remember,’ the
womar murmured, “when the music
was to your fancy. there were few
wh) danced like you.”
“It may be for that reason,’ he re-
~joired, “that today I dance but sel-
dom.”
She flashed a little glance a‘ him,
acd the people who saw it turned
their heads to look at her, for she
was indeed beautiful. Arrived at
the: table, to which they were es-
corted by the manager and the head
waiter, Lena floated away almost at
once with her escort. The princess
smi‘ea.
“Juana is the sister of my heart”
she acknowledged. “Always she un-
derstands. Now, before we speak of
anything else, dear friend, hefcre I
bring myself to realize how happy
it has made me—even this brief meet-
ing—Ilet me tell you of this embar-
rassment in which we find ourselves.
I came here tonight, because of it,
in fear and trembling. With you,
however, I feel safe.”
“Tell me, by all means,” he begged
and glanced at her.
Indeed, she was as beautiful as
ever in her silver gown, her famous
pearls, her shining dark hair, her
flawless complexion and her exquis-
itely shaped mouth. In the old days,
when she had been kind to the young
English attache, she had been ac-
knowledged one of the most beauti-
ful women in Europe. It seemed to
Tresholm that the years which had
passed had not even disturbed the
bloom of youth. Her brown eyes
were as eloquent as ever. Her fing-
ers rested upon his coat sleeve in the
-old appealing gesture.
“Dear friend,” she continued, “last
month we announced Lena's engage-
ment to Bartoldi.”
“I read it,” Tresholm murmured.
“In spite of our vow not to write,
I nearly sent you a line.”
“The affair seemed well enough.
Bartoldi is poor, but Lena is overrich
already. I knew little of the young
man. Like most others, he was sup-
posed to be gay. What would you
have? He is only twenty-four. It was
thought that marriage would be good
for him. I begin to doubt it. Indeed,
I am frightened.”
“Tell me exactly why,” Tresholm
suggested.
“We discovered one unsuspected
thing—he is a gambler.”
Tresholm smiled slightly. The
thought of his own reputation flick-
ered into his mind.
SE
~ “He must be too young for that to "off, but Tresholm lingered for a mo-
have become a settled vice. He is
playing here?”
“Night and day—and disastrously
Disastrously, not only for his purse
but, I am afraid, for his character.
Lena is in great distress. I dare not
tell my husband, and the duke here
has hated the Bartoldis all his life
and can find no good word to say
about them. We have no one in
whom to confide, and we are in great
distress.” .
“Just how do things stand at pres-
ent?” Tresholm asked.
“Gastone, as I told you, is not
rich,” the princess explained. “He
comes here as our guest. He brought
with him a hundred thousand lire’
for gambling. He has lost that. He
has drawn another hundred thousand
lire from home, he has borrowed
some from me, and tonight he has
borrowed from Lena.
“It is not only his money losses
which are so distressing, but he him-
self is changing. Lena and I refuse
to play at all, hoping that may have
some effect. We came here last night
with Michani and two other friends.
Gastone arrived just as we were
leaving. He behaved disgracefully.
He quarreled with the man with
whom Lena was dancing and declar-
ed that until she was married she
must dance with no one but him. He
made a scene.
not quite sober. I was much asham-
ed, and a little frightened.
“Today he has obtained money
somehow, and he is playing. As soon
as he has lost it all, I fear that he
will follow us here. He will perhaps
make himself disagreeable. He is
very violent, and I feel sure that he
is drinking too much brandy. Lena
is in despair. I know that she js
fond of him but what can one do?
Last night he behaved like a mad-
man. He wanted to fight a perfectly
harmless youth with whom she was
dancing.” :
. She broke off, to hand the menu
to Tresholm, who ordered supper and
wine. Almost immediately Lena and
her escort returned to the table.
Conversation—a pleasant farrago of
reminiscenes—became gay. The duke,
approving alike of the caviar and the
champagne unbent. He danced
again with Lena. The princess look-
ed at her companion, and a little
smile parted her wonderful lips.
“The dances are not the same,
the music—it remains.
will dance with me?”
They danced, and he was back
again in the flood of memories. There
were a few whispered words, but the
silence had its tumultuous charm.
More than once he felt her cling to
him—her slim, exquisite body yield-
ing itself to his arms. When at last
they sat down, Tresholm was a little
breathless. It seemed to him that
she was avoiding his eyes. Then sud-
denly she touched his sleeve.
“Bartoldi!” she exclaimed.
In the doorway.”
Tresholm turned his head and met
the full gaze of the young man who
had just entered. Bartoldi was very
decorative, but he was not altogether
sober. He stood there gloomy, HI
most ferocious looking. The prin-
cess waved her hand. He approach-
ed with deliberate footseps. He bow-
ed to the women, nodded to the duke
and ignored Tresholm.
“I looked for you in the club,” he
said. “It was arranged, I thought,
that we should come here.”
The princess toyed with her fan.
but
Andrew, you
“Look!
“At twelve o'clock, dear Gastone,”
she reminded him. “At one o’clock
you were still playing. We persuad-
ed the duke to be our escort, and 1
was fortunate enough to find here:
one of my dearest friends...... Mr.
Andrew Tresholm—Prince Bartoldi.”
Bartoldi looked across at Tresholm
with heavy eyes. The greeting be-
tween the two men was of the slight-
est. There was a smile, however, up:
on Tresholm’s lips.
“The prince occupies himself a
great deal with the game” he re
marked.
“I do. And you?”
“As yet, I have not played”
“But surely you have been here
for some time?” the princess asked.
“Three weeks,” Tresholm confess:
ed.
The young man was staring at
him solemnly. “You have been here
three weeks,” he repeated, “and you
have not yet entered the Casino or
the Sporting Club?”
“Not yet. I shall play a little be-
fore I go. I find many other amuse-
ments here.”
The princess laughed softly.
were always an original!”
“Original indeed,” Bartoldi mut-
tered. “What other amusements hag
Monte Carlo?”
“Well, for example. I play tennis
for two or three hours in the morn-
ing,” Tresholm confided. “After that
I motor out to some of the smaller
hill villages, perhaps dine in sonie
bohemian place in Nice or Cannes
on my way home, and often I am so
sleepy that I read my papers or a
book and go to bed.”
‘ “Why come to Monte Carlo?” the
young man queried, almost insolent-
ly. “You could lead that sort of life
anywhere.”
“Quite so,” Tresholm assented. “On
the other hand, Monte Carlo is a very
amusing place, unless one is by evil
chance a gambler. The climate is
“You
-| excellent, the scenery attractive, and
one meets friends.”
“I agree with Signor Tresholm,”
Michani declared. “I have not his
energy, perhaps, but when I have
lost five hundred francs in the after-
noon, and five hundred in the evening,
I seek to amuse myself elsewhers
than in the gaming-rooms.”
The music was once more alluring.
Lena smiled at Bartoldi.
“We dance, Gastone, yes?”
The young man surveyed the room
disparingly. He muttered something
in Italian and poured himself out
some wine.
Tresholm rose. “Perhaps you will
honor me,” he begged.
She rose without hesitation. Bar.
toldi set down his glass.
“f.enai”™ H
She ‘affected not to hear him ard
and would have hurried her partne:
I am afraid he was '
ment.
| “Signor Tresholm,” Bartoldi said,
!“T do not know who you are. The
'Signorina is my fiancee, and in Italy
lit is not the custom—"
| “Pity we're in Monaco,” Tresholm
interrupted pleasantly, as he moved
‘away. : :
The princess leaned forward. “Gas-
stone,” she said, “it seems to me that
, we, who may be your new relatives,
{will have a little more to put up with
than we expected. There is one
‘thing, however, which I warn you 1
should never forgive, and that is your
making yourself ridiculous before
any dear friend of mine.
“You may make yourself at ease
concerning Signor Tresholm,” the
princess continued. “He is an Eng-
lishman of distinguished family who
was in the Diplomatic Service of his
icountry when I knew him. Continue
‘your supper, please. You have lost
again, I fear.” :
' “I have lost,” the young man ac-
knowledged sullenly. “I have lost all
'the money I could scrape together,
‘and all the money they would lend
me at the bar. Never was anyone
plagued with such accursed luck.”
“It is a little message from fate,”
the princess told him. “You are not
meant to win. The man who plays
against fate, plays hopelessly.”
“Women know nothing about
gambling,” Bartoldi declared savage-
I~ «That may be why we win,” was
the suave rejoinder........
| Tresholm and his partner returned
in due course, and the supper-party,
never a brilliant success nevertheless
drifted on without disaster. To-
wards its close, Tresholm found him-
,Self once more alone with his hos-
tess. Lena and Michanl were danc-
ing, and Bartoldi had gone to the bar
in search of an a¢quaintance.
y “What am I to do?” the princess
lasked Tresholm suddenly. “I believe
‘that Gastone is not so bad. It is just
this gambling. And Lena alas adores
him. Already he has borrowed all
our spare money, and my hands now
are tied. I have promised my hus-
band I will lend him no more. What
can one do with him? Advise me,
dear friend. I want so much their
| happiness.”
i Tresholm smoked thoughtfully for
a moment. “My first impressions of
‘the young man,” he confessed, “led
me to believe that your sister would
probably be the better for his loss.
One must not judge hastily, though.
‘You have known him longer than I.
You find in him good qualities?”
| “Indeed yes, Andrew,” she assured
him. “Gastone has good in him. I
can promise you that.”
| “In that case,” Tresholm decided,
“I will do what I can to help him.
| You have your car here, of course?
Very well. When you leave, the duke
can escort you and your sister. T
will propose to Prince Bartoldi that
he and I walk to the hotel. If I fail
with the young man, I can at least
let you know at the end of four days
what I think of him.”
Her fingers deliberately sought Eis.
“You are just as sweet to me as éver,
dear Andrew,” she whispered. “If
only I had had the courage in those
days!”
He shook his head. “Your place,
dear Margherita,” he sighed, “was al-
ways in the great world.”
They left soon afterwards. On the
pavement outside, Tresholm offered
his cigaret-case to the young man
. “Shall we walk?” he suggested
“It is only a féw yards to the Paris,
and Michani is sufficient escort for
our hostess and the Signorina.”
The young man assented without
graciousness.
“Had bad luck at ths tables
haven't you?” Tresholm asked.
“Infernal,” was the disgusted as-
‘sent. “It’s all a matter of capital
I could have got it back, butIcan't
raise any more money. The ola prince
is a miser, my lawyer is away in
‘England, and not one of my friends
is out here.”
| “Upon certain conditions,” "'res-
holm proposed gently, “I will be your
‘banker to the extent or, say, a 1ail
lion francs.”
| “You will what?” Bartoldi exclaim:
“ed.
| “I will lend you a :million francs,”
Tresholm repeated, “hut cn my own
terms, mind.”
{ “I will pay any interest,”
'young man declared eagerly.
| “I am not concerned awnout inter-
est.” Tresholm assured him. ‘Jf IT
llend you this money, you twill give
‘me an I O. U. for it, and pay me
{back the exact sum but—you won't
like my terms.”
| Bartoldi glanced at the clock, still
‘visible in front of the Casino.
the
ing Club?” he suggested. “We could
have a drink anyway, and there
might be a chemie table going.”
“Certainly not,” Tresholm refused.
“These are my terms. You may rely
upon me to keep my word—the prin-
cess will tell you, I think, that I am
not likely to break it.”
“The terms then, if you please.”
“It' is now,” Tresholm reflected,
“Tuesday morning. The sum I men-
day at midnight. The terms are
these: that between now and then
you do not attempt to gamble; you
do whatever I choose.” .
“Any restrictions after that?” the
young man asked.
“None at all,” Tresholm assured
him. “At midnight on Friday, the
money will be at your disposal. You
can gamble with it, pay your debts
with it, or do whatever you like, and
you can return it to me whenitis
convenient.”
“You are not going to ask that I
do anything impossible during the
four days?” the young man ventur
ed.
“Nothing whatever. Most of the
time I shall spend with you.”
They turned into the Hotel de
Paris.
“I thank you very much sir,” Bar-
toldi said. ‘It is so arranged then.
Tomorrow morning, I am at your
service.”
“Turn up at half past ten in tennis
kit,” Tresholm enjoined.
“Could we step round to the Sport- |
tioned will be at your disposal on Fri: |
| They watched for a time and then !
|
i
i
Bartoldi was a slow starter at
tennis on the following morning, but
improved considerably towards the
close of the seance. Tresholm, who
had won the first three sets, was
obliged to fight hard for the fourth
and lost the fifth. They wandered off
to the Royalty for cocktails with the
princess and Lena, who had been in-
terested spectators. The princess
took Tresholm’s arm.
“Dear friend,” she remonstraced
“I hear that you have offered t:
lend Gastone money, without any re-
strictions as to gambling.”
Trasholm nodded. “He doesn’t get
it till midnight cn Friday though,”
he reminded her, “and until then he's
on his honor not to play at all.”
“It is not very long until Friday
midnight,” she sighed.
“Miracles have been wrought in
less time,” Tresholm replied. ‘Mine
1S just a little gamble. If I lose—
well, I can afford it.”
They drank their cocktails in the
sunshine, and on a sudden inspiration
motored out to Beaulieu for luncheon.
Afterwards, the princess suggested a
visit to Cannes, but Tresholm shook .
his head.
“If you don’t mind,” he begged,
“Bartoldi and I want to go to the
Sporting Club.”
The young man’s eyes glittered.
The princess and Lena were aston-
shed. ‘
“10 the Sportinr Club !” ‘he latter
exclaimed. I thought Gastone was
not to play till Friday.”
“We aren't going to play; we're
going to look on,” Tresholm con-
fessed.
“Surely,” Lena pleaded, “you
would be better be away from the
place altogether—or rather Gastone
would.”
‘I'm not so sure,” Tresholm re-
plied. “Anyhow we'll look in there
for a short time.”
At a few minutes past four, the
event for which Monte Carlo had
been waiting took place. Tresholm
mounted the steps of the Sporting,
Club accompanied by Bartoldi and
turned into the Bureau.
“Got to get my ticket,”
plained.
The young Italian stared at him
incredulously.
“Do you mean to say that you
haven't even taken a ticket out?”
he demanded.
“Haven't been in the place since I
arrived,” Tresholm confessed. “Come
and sign for me.”
Tresholm’s appearance caused a
sensation. His ticket was made out
in breathless speed by the senior clerk,
while the junior one rushed to the
telephone. The news spread in all
directions. When they entered the
rooms, the croupiers stood up and
craned their necks with curiosity.
The chief of the plaque roulette ta-
ble covertly counted over his capital.
The chef at the trente-et-quarante
board sent at once for a supply of
five-mille plaques. The man whose
appearance had created such a sen-
sation, however, entered the gam-
bling rooms modestly. He made no
attempt to change any money.
' His companion stood with his
hands in his pockets his eyes on the
board.
.“Quatorze,’ he groaned, as the spin
was concluded. “Signor Tresholm,
for heaven's sake, let me have a mille.
I must back seven and twenty-nine
after fourteen.”
“What on earth for?” Tresholm
demanded. “In any case, you know
that under our conditions you are
not playing.”
“And you? You will not play
either?” Bartoldi asked, a little be-
wildered.
“No, not at present.”
The next number was thirty four,
the next thirty--five the following
one six.
“You'd have lost your money,
wouldn't you?” Tresholm remarked
casually.
“Look at that Dutchman,” Bartoldi
whispered. ‘He must have eighty
mille there.”
Tresholm nodded. “Clever fellow !”
he murmurued. “Let’s watch some
of the other tables.”
They wandered down to the far
end of the room. When they came
back, the Dutchman at the plaque
table was changing a bundle of mille
notes.
“Soon lost his eighty mille.” Tres-
holm observed. “Jolly interesting,
isn’t it? Let's look at the chemie.”
The chemie ganic was dragging
wearily along. At each table, the
croupier glanced round almost wist-
fully at their approach. Tresholm
remained blandly indifferent.
“Time for our first cocktail,”
suggested to his companion.
“Thank heaven!” the other replied.
They sat down and smoked ciga-
rets in a corner of the bar.
“Queer thing at that table that’s
just broken up” Tresholm remarked
as he sipped his cocktail. “Right
people went to cash in their chips,
and there wasn’t a winner among
them. Cagnotte had the lot. Jolly
interesting to watch all the same!
Drink up quickly and we'll get back
to the roulette.”
When the time came, the young
man rose unwillingly. Things at the
table had changed. The Dutchman
was nervously fingering the last of
his packet of mille notes. A new-
comer had collected a pile of plaques.
he ex-
he
walked down to the other tables.
When they came back, the Dutchman
had increased his stock by a few
plaques. The newcomer was cashing
mille notes.
“Must play badly, these fellows, I
think,” Tresholm observed.
never seem to keep it. Let’s go over
to the Cercle Prive for an hour.”
Bartoldi frankly yawned. “Why do
you not play?” he reiterated. “Any-
thing is better than doing nothing.”
“I never possessed the bump of
philanthropy,” Tresholm answered
dryly.
They wandered down the passage,
crossed the lounge of the hotel, pass-
ed through the swing doors and
strolled towards the Casino. A small
crowd of people collected to watch
them. They were met in the vesti-
“They '
bule of the “Kitchen” by Gustave
Sordel himself.
“So you have found your way here
at last, Mr. Tresholm,” he greeted
him, with a welcoming smile.
“A very brief visit, I am afraid,”
Tresholm confided.
“If you will tell me which table
you're going to play at, I will see
they have plenty of money,” Sordel
suggested.
“I'm not sure that I'll do more than
look on today,” Tresholm replied.
Sordel hurried off with an incred-
ulous shrug of the shoulders. They
passed through the “Kitchen,” stop-
ping to watch the play at some of the
tables.
“Always gives me the hump, this
place,” Tresholm remarked. “To
think that some of these broken-
down, miserable-looking men and wo-
men were once decent folk. Came
here, lots of them, with plenty of
money, good homes and all the rest
of it, and then set themselves down
to play against a certainty.
beciles, of course, but one can’t help
feeling sorry for them!”
They wandered on to the Salles
: Privees.
“Let’s have another cocktail befora
we watch any more,” Bartoldi pro-
posed. “These people are getting on
my nerves.”
Tresholm assented readily enough,
but as soon as the cocktails were
consumed, he led the way out of the
bar again.
“There are a couple of plaque
tables in the Schmit Room,” he said.
“Quite high play, I believe.”
Bartoldi followed his companion
without enthusiasm. At first the
sight of one of his numbers appcar-
ing produced in him a fit of restless-
1pess. After about an hour, however,
he scarcely made an observation. Ev-
ery now and then he glanced at the
cleck.
| “We are all dining with ycu. are
we not?” he asked Tresholm. “Is
it not time we thought about dres:
i on
“Ten minutes more.”
Tney stayed for a fuarter of an
heur. It was Bartoldi who led the
way out of the rocms As they
mounted the steps of the Hotel de
Paris, the Senegalese porte: came
forward with his broad grin.
“Monsieur a fail sauter la ban-
que?” he demanded eagerly.
“I haven't played,” Tresholm an-
swered.
The man stared at him without
comprehension. In the lounge, Mor-
sieur Robert, the manager cf the Lo-
tel. came hurrying forward.
“At last, Monsieur Treshclm, they
tell me that you have entered ‘the
lists!” he exclaimed. “Wha: {for-
tune? The Casino is perhaps riort-
gaged to you?”
Tresholm smiled.
looking on,” he confided.
played.”
“You could watch and not play?”
the other gasped.
“Why not?
enough.”
“All these people seem very inter-
ested in you,” Bartoldi remarked cur-
iously, as they mounted in the lift.
Tresholm smiled. “I have a repu-
tation,” he explained, “which as yet
"I have not attempted to justify.”
Dinner was distinctly a cheerful
meal. Bartoldi was a little tired and
nervous, but he improved in humor
and appearance as the evening went
on. The princess was puzzled.
“I do not understand,” she told
Tresholm frankly. “Gastone tells me
that instead of keeping him away
from the gaming-rooms, you have
pressed him to accompany you there,
and on Friday you are lending him
all that money.”
Tresholm nodded.
bling,” he confessed.
She made a little grimace. “You
have the right to, without a doubt,
but Gastone—he will only lose your
money.”
“The luck may change.”
It was eleven o'clock before they
left the dining-room, and everyovae
was in excellent humor. Lena turn-
ed towards Tresholm.
“Why shouldn't we all go straight
to that little Russian piace and
“I nave just heen
“I haven't
I find it amusing
“I am gam-
dance?” she suggested. ‘Gastone
doesn’t mind.”
“Just one hour at the Sporticg
Club first, please,” Tresholm begged.
“And I thought you didn’t play,”
the princess intervened reproachful-
ly.
“It's a wonderful game to watch,”
Tresholm rejoined.
They made their way through the
passage silently. The princess drift-
ed into the chemie room. Tresholm,
with his hand resting lightly upon
Bartoldi’s shoulder, took up "his old
position at the roulette table. There
were more people playing and the
gambling was heavier.
i + “Twenty-nine!” the young man ex-
claimed irritably. “Oh, if only I
could back the seven and the four-
teen.”
Tresholm remained deaf. Twenty-
five turned up, then nineteen, follow-
ed by twenty-seven. An English
nobleman collected a great pile of
'ten-mille plaques.
“Over two hundred thousand francs
he’s won while we've been standing
here,” Bartoldi murmured feverish-
‘ly.
j Y Trosholm nodded. “Let's watgh
"the other table for a time,” he sug-
' gested.
| They strolled around. In half an
hour they returned. The Englishman
, was cashing a check. He looked up
and nodded as Tresholm passed.
| “What's become of all those
i plaques?” the latter asked.
| “All gone,” was the frowning re-
sponse. “They spin too quickly.”
“Yes, I suppose’ that’s it,” Tres-
holm agreed, half to himself. “They
spin too quickly. They don’t give
you a chance to keep your winnings.”
Lena leaned forward and passed
her arm through his.
one feels like dancing tonight.”
asked.
‘ holm stipulated.
Im-
EE RES TI RSA,
The princess’ eyebrows were slight:
ly upraised; Lena looked puzzled.
“So long as Gastone doesn’t minc
leaving,” she whispered, “why don’t
we get away?” :
Tresholm smiled. “That next twelvq
numbers,” he begged her. “Jusi
twelve spins.”
“But you don’t play,” she evpos:
tulated. “Why do you like watching
the numubers that turn up?”
“Because I don’t play,” he answer:
ed cryptically.
Even Bartoldi sighed with relie:
when they left the Sporting Club
short time later. There were stil
signs of strain about him, but he
danced with spirit, and of his ow:
accord inquired about tke morrow’:
plans.
“Tennis at ten-thirty,” Tresholn
told him. “Two decent fellows wan:
to make a foursome. And Thursday
morning—what about a foursome a
Mont Agel?”
“I should love it,” Lena declared
“Alas, it is so long since I play
ed,” the princess sighed.
“Nevertheless, we will give then
a game,” Tresholm promised........
“I wish I knew just what you
idea is, Andrew,” she said to him :
little later, when they were alone a’
the table. “Of course I know tha
you have promised to lend Gaston:
Some money, and that is what make:
him agree to do everything you sug
gest, but why don’t you keep hin
away from the tables altogether:
Surely that would be best. This af
ternoon, and part of this evening, th
poor boy was standing there i
agony.”
Tresholm nodded with satisfaction
“You noticed that too, did you?” h
observed. “Good!” The young maj
is to have this money I promised ti
lend him at midnight on Friday. Af
ter that, I shall try to explain.”
She laid her fingers upon his hanc
No one else in the world knew s
well how to caress with a touch.
“Dear Andrew,” she begged, “Len
is so worried. She is afraid you don’
realize what this gambling may mea:
to him.”
“You know whal they call m
here?” he asked abruptiy.
“I know,” she admitted—* ‘th
professional gambler.’ It was
blague of yours when you arrived.
“Nevertheless,” he went on, “ther
is perhaps a little truth in it. As
professional gambler I must knov
something of the psychology of thi
—shall we call it habit or vice?
am the physician. Bartoldi is my pe
tient. You are the amateur who ir
tervenes. Dear lady, shall we dance ?
She came willingly enough into th
clasp of his arms, and again h
thought of those great bunches c
Roman violets, their purple glint an
their April fragrance.
Tresholm glanced at his thin gol
watch and passed his hand throug
the young man’s arm. “Come alon
into the bar, Bartoldi,” he invite
“It is midnight on Friday, and you
period of probation is up. Time fc
us to arrange our little business.’
The young man, who. had bee
standing patiently looking down :
the roulette table, turned. arour
with alacrity.
Tresholm led the way into, the i1
ner portion of the bar, ordered: tw
whisky-and-sodas, and drew out.
formidable-looking packet from h
coat.
“Here you are,” he announce
“There’s a hundred mille in each
these—ten of them. Get as mu
fun as you can out of it. It ougl
to last you a few nights, at ax
rate.”
The young man smiled. “You dor
seem to believe in anyone’s winnin
Mr. Tresholm.”
- “Oh, I dare say
times,” was the casual. reply—*
they have to leave in a hurry .
something of that sort, just after
run of luck. We've heen watchil
for four afternoons and four eve
ings, haven't we 2”
“Watching till I am blamed sick
the sight of the ball,” the young m:
declared vigorously.
“Well, we haven't seen anyone w
who kept his winnings, have we
Tresholm observed.
Bartoldi stopped a young man wi
was passing.
“Here's the sixty mille I owe yc
Francis,” he said.
“That is excellent,” the other e
claimed, in some surprise, as he poc
eted the money. “You have be
winning, yes?”
“I haven't played for the last. fe
days.”
Bartoldi excused himself and. ma
his way to the bar, summoning J
seph to a conference. Joseph a
proached, glum, and with regrets :
ready framing themselves upon }
lips.
“I will take my I. O. U.’s, Josef
his patron said. “Sixty mille,
think.”
The sun broke through the clout
Joseph’s famous smile illumined .}
face.
“The I. O. U's are here, Monsie
le Prince,” he said, producing the
Bartoldi tore them up. Treshal
was talking to the princess and Lex
who were just leaving the room wi
the Luca di Michani.
“Margherita,” Bartoldi announct
they do. som
“TI owe you fifty thousand. Voi
And you, Lena, thirty thousand.'Y
have room in your bag, I hope. Nt
I have only one creditor.”
“My dear Gastone!” the prince
exclaimed. “Now I shall be able
play again.”
“You are sure you wouldn't I
‘to keep this a little longer?” Le
“What about Bartoldi? "Tresholm S8rimace.
\
asked wistfully.
“Not for a second,” he assured h
“I was suggesting to the prince
an hour or two at the Carlton,” N
chani proposed.
“Well, we've gone there for seve
al nights,” Tresholm observed. “I
night I think we ought to stay f
“Margherita 2& little time to see Prince Barto
| wants to go,” she pleaded. “Every- Play.”
Michani indulged in a significa
There was distress in t
princess’ face. Nevertheless, they :
“pd like to go if you're ready,” the | trooped out to the roulette table, :
young man assented, almost eagerly. | though instinctively, Tresholm a:
“Just half an hour more,” Tres- his young companion
stood whe
(Continued on page 7, Col. 8.)