Argosy All-Story Weekly, Vol. 124, No. 3 — page 155: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

HOW MANY CARDS? of the oldest, and he has always kept his social position impregnable, though I under- stand he inherited nothing but the house and some rotten ancestor’s gambling in- stinct! People don’t dare squeal on him, for he has clients and victims among the connections of every prominent family in the country. He thought I wouldn’t dare, either, but I’ve got nothing to lose now.” CHAPTER XXVI. THE FIRST BIG GUN. “3 WONDER he didn’t take that mto ] consideration,” McCarty remarked. “You say he refused to let you have a loan to tide you over when he knew it - Meant ruin to you?” Ford colored painfully. “There was a personal matter involved and it warped his judgment, I guess,” he mumbled. ‘‘ My wife, you know.” “TI see.” McCarty strove to make his voice sympathetic, but he was filled with loathing for the unprincipled weakling be- fore him. He’d borrow money, if he could, from a man who had insulted his wife, and if he couldn’t, sell him out! The ex-rounds- man’s feet tingled to administer a kick to the cowardly sneak, but he must learn mere. ‘“Tf Mrs. Waverley and Mrs. Creveling played just because they were bored and Mrs. Ferd because you wanted her to, why did Mrs. Kip and—and Mrs. O’Rourke sit in the game?”’ “Oh, Connie Kip is a born adventuress; a professienal gambler in a way, like Cut- ter,” replied Ford carelessly. ‘‘ She’s teo shrewd to jeopardize the social position she has wormed herself into by any indiscreet flirtation, but the cards are her means of a liveliheod and I could swear I’ve caught her cheating more than once, though if Cut- ‘ter knows it he doesn’t mind her counting herself in on his graft, for she’s popular and useful to him as a steerer. It is through her that he gets his clutches on the yeung asses in society with more money than brains.” “Was she at Cutter’s on Thursday even- ing?” asked McCarty suddenly. “No, only the O’Rourkes. We expected 10 A O29 Creveling, but he phoned that he couldn’t make it, so we had a five-handed game; tame enough, too, with nor Waverley there. ey were the plungers, and helping along Cutter’s fleec- ing of O’Rourke, I suspect. I might have warned him, I suppose, but I had my own fish to fry in trying to win my money back from them or get a loan, and then misery loves company, you know!” “ But Mrs. O’Rourke?” persisted Mc- Carty. ‘“‘ What possessed her to play?” ‘For the same reason that her husband did; a sheer love of the game,” responded Ford with an odd note ef respectful ad- miration in his tone. ‘“ She’s a thorough- going sportswoman, and I hear she came from a long line of hard-riding, ‘heavy- drinking, devil-may-care Irish nobility who would have staked all they had any day on the turn of a card. For all she’s so utterly feminine, she’s the gamest loser I ever saw for a woman, or man, either, and there isn’t another in the crowd who can touch her for looks and brains and charm, but she’s such a clean Sport herself that I don’t suppose she has an inkling there is anything crooked about the whole outfit.” McCarty rose. He felt suddenly stifled, as though his breakfast had not agreed with him. -This cheap renegade might be useful to him in the future and his native caution warned him to go before he ex- pressed himself openly. Not for the life of him could’ he listen to another word concerning the Lady Peggy, even in praise, from such lips. ‘“ Thank you, sir. I guess you've told me all I need to know to work on now and I won’t pester you any lenger. I won't give you away, but there'll be no more fleecing of Mr. O’Rourke nor any one else, I can promise you that.” “I don’t give a damn about that, I’m done!” Ford followed him to the door. “ Creveling got his, although I don’t know from what particular motive, of many’ pos- sible ones that his murderer might have had. Waverley won’t last long at the pace he is traveling, but Cutter is the man I want to see shown up; he’d rather be shot, any day, than have that happen, for he’s : Creveling . got a certain pride of a sort. I’m dead COMIC OOOkKS. Corn