Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 416 — page 17: what you’re looking at

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

~~ r - eeeweee “ — z “7 A on ~* 7 . * = - > » a eas * rer) ae” Fe add ST P ie > 4. ee ¢ f . id | — , : ‘ - ‘3 " a, bd vs * . r e . ” 4 Me 2 — * ef > A ———-- -—_—- ing faro. I noticed you fighting the tiger, and paused to watch your style of playing ‘Tt wasn’t long before I saw you were putting up your money on a regular system; that you were what, in the vernacular, we professionals term anangel. In plainer words,a man who bets according to rule, sticking to the same cards from first to last, regardless of the fact whether he lost or won, ‘** Now I needn’t tell you that it is just such bettors who are most welcome in any faro-room, because an expert dealer can, while seemingly playing a perfectly square game, with an ortho- dox box, clean them out, every time. You doubt, but have patience, and I'll prove the truth of my words to you. ‘I saw that Curly Kaine had learned your system, and that he was resolved to pluck you clean, if only on account of his little squabble with you the’other evening, on the train. ‘*For that reason I chipped in, putting my bets directly in opposition to yours, so that when you lost, I would win.” ‘* Judging from the tilt Letween you this even- ing, that fellow has still less cause to love you. If, as you say, it lay in his power to control -the cards, why wouldn't he take you into camp in- stead of me?” asked Pennington. ‘** Simply because he knew I would be here to- morrow and the next day, and for a year, per- haps, while he could not be sure that he would ever get another whack at your boodle,” was the calm response. ‘* But in the end he did try to hit me hard, as you saw, when my manner of betting told him I had dropped to his little game with you. ‘** After the second deal, he put up splits on us, using the cards you had made your favor- ites, hoping to catch us both at one stroke, without running any danger of losing himself. You saw how it worked, ‘but you didn’t com- yrehend its full meaning. You doubled your »ets, while I drew out, the better to watch the working of the machine. And I did see it, too! ** You wondered fe es pressed that money on ‘you, when you were about to draw out of the game. I gave you one reason then. but I helda still better one in reserve. You did not notice anything important going on while we were ar- guing the point, but I did. Isaw Curly Kaine was digging a mine, and, thanks to my earlier watching how the cards came out, I caught the turn he was putting up, and resolved to hit him heavy. ‘‘} knew he was trying the odd-card trick, but I had him down so fine that 1 was sure to win, if not by the cards as he made them come out, then by exposing his foul dealing. You tried the turn but guessed it wrong. I called it as the cards lay in the box, and forced Curly to bring them out right. The rest you know, quite as well as I can tell you.” ** All except why you say this money is mine.” “That comes next. I never play at faro, for I know a man cannot beat it one time out of a hundred. I only entered the poratg keep you from being fleeced, by winning what you lost. Only for you I would not have risked or won a dollar. Through you, I quit winner to the ex- tent of some thirty-eight thousand. I have de- ducted the amount I lent you, and the five thou- sand I returned to you the other evening, then divided the remainder in equal portions. One is mine, the other yours, as any gambler in tie land will be ready to swear, on bearing the facts of the case as I have stated them. Are you 5 ata old fellow?” lightly laughed Monte im. During all this talk Alva Pennington had been closely watching the sport, and now his voice was full of conviction as he made reply: ‘‘Convinced? Yes, of one thing: that with you, Monte Jim, as you call yourself, blood is thicker than water!” ** What do you mean by that?” ejaculated the sport, his big blue eyes opening widely, full of innocent surprise. “That your name is not James Ince, but Lloyd Pennington! That you are not thestran- ger you seem, but my brother !” CHAPTER XTX, MONTE JIM AS A MAN AND A BROTHER. Monte Jim stared fixedly into the counte- nance of his companion for a brief space, then leaned across the table and lightl Alva Pennington’s wrist between his thumb and forefinger, after the fashion of a doctor feeling the pulse of a patient. Amazed in his turn, the wounded man made no attempt to withdraw his hand, until, with a short nod, the dashing sport relaxed his gentle grasp of his own accord, muttering: Pye thought so! Feverish—decidedly fever- ish! ‘‘That’s too thin. You can’t throw dust in my eyes any longer,” sharply retorted Pen- nington, ‘I’m neither feverish nor —_ but clearer-brained and wider awake than I bave been at any time since we first met on the train, I say it again—you’re my brother, Lloyd Pen- nington!” “You're dead sure you’ve called the turn this deal?” Monte Jim, the Black Sheep y grasped — >. wa A . ees . oi Med * ry 7. . MS : a * ‘ : “ ~ Ta. w **I know it!” was the positive reply. ‘‘ I was blind as a bat not to have supected the truth at the very outset. If not Lloyd Pennington, why did you exhibit such a strong interest in me and | mine when I was butting my brains out against | Blinky Scott and his crooked pictures? Whet made you return the money I lost?—in one word, | your own conduct is proof sufficient that you are no stranger.” Monte Jim listened quietly, a peculiar light in his big blue eyes, a slight twitching of his | blonde mustaches; and it was this that caused | Alva Pennington to so abruptly break off his _ enumeration of the proofs to which his eyes had | just been opened, ending with that dogged reas- | sertion. ‘* There’s no use denving it, then?” slowly ut- ' tered Monte Jim, leaning back in his chair and | gazing into the face of his companion, through a circling cloud of cigar-smoke. ‘‘ You won’t | let a man throw up his hand or call for fresh | cards?” | **Deny it from now until sunrise, and Jil stick to my belief,” was the cogged reply. | **'You’re Lloyd Pennington, or I’m a natural- born idiot!” Monte Jim brushed the smoke aside, and | leaned forward to gaze keenly into the flushed countenance of the ‘speaker. Only for a mo- i. of Bismarck. * 17 irate UUme eee eee | ' cided that Iam he, I'll not deny it any longer. Iam Lloyd Pennington, on one condition,” in- _terrupted Monte Jim, soberly. ‘** And that condition” ‘““ Is this: take up that money and put it in | your pocket.” ment; then, with a short laugh, he extended his | right hand across the table, utterins: ‘All right, if you -vill have it so! brother!” ) ‘*Then you own up to being Lloyd Penning- ton?” ‘Why not?” was the careless response. ** You say that even should I deny the charge, your conviction could not be changed. The name is — James Ince. I have as much right to one name as the other, at any rate.” . + t can take oath that you’re Lloyd Penning- on! ‘*That settles it then, of course. By the way, | do you happen to remember how it was you , came to lose me?” | Alva Pennington scowled a little as he re- turned that keen pare, for he felt that the sport was laughing at him, though outwardly Monte Jim was sober as a deacon at prayers. But he was doggedly positive that he had at last solved the mystery with which the card-sharp and his actions had been surrounded ever since their | first encounter, and would not permit his belief | to be shaken. | Why ask that, when you must know better than I?” . _. “For information, dear brother,” smiled Monte Jim. “If Iam Lloyd Pennington, sure- ly I had ought to know something of his past life 'and exploits? Unluckily, I have forgotten all about that portion of my career. Loss of | memory during a severe fever, I daresay, But —oblige me, brother.” ‘*'You disappeared in a night, ten years ago, leaving no clew bebind you,” doggedly muttered | Pennington. ‘“‘No adlew, eh? Then there was no bloody | trail—no tremendous crime to startle the neigh- borhood?” His companion shook his head in the negative, ‘* What do you mean by asking such a foolish question?” Monte Jim heaved a sigh as of relief, and sunk back in his chair, drawing briskly at his cigar before replying: ‘‘T am glad of that. I was afraid I might be somebody famous or infamous, according to the standpoint from which you choose to view it. Famous is good—there’s money in a name, pro- vided it don’t smell tooawfully strong of hemp.” A hot, angry flush overspread the counte- nance of Alva Pennington, for he could no longer doubt that Monte Jim was ridiculing him. | He leaned forward on the table, bringing one fist heavily down, as he said: ‘* Look here, you ; enoughnonsense, Let's get down to business. Come out flat-footed. Are oo or are you not the man I’m looking for— loyd Pennington?” ‘*T thought you settled that fact at the out- set?” and the card-sharp opened his eyes in sur- prise. ‘ As far as I am concerned, I don’t care _a continental, one way or the other, as long as there ain’t a hempen necktie waiting for this | Loyd Pennington. Tell you what we can do,” with a sudden lighting up of his countenance, as he picked a double eagle from the money which lay in two piles on the table between them, and spinning it swiftly on the level sur- face as he spoke: ‘* Let this settle the mo- mentous question. Heads, I am—tails, I am not —watch the little joker and see for yourself that you are getting fair play! Make your game while she rolls, gentlemen! All made, and— Heads she am! y long-lost brother, come to me arrums!” Alva Pennington dropped back into his chair _ with a snapping snarl, as Monte Jim arose and stretched his arms across the chair with a mock tragic air. ‘*Drop your durn foolishness,” he growled, surlily. “Td rather you were Lloyd Penning- ton, as I firmly believe—” ‘* Since you believe it, and the fates have de- Shake, | short laugh. brother, TIl soon grow accustomed to not bad: it has a sort of aristocratic sound, and © will answer my purpose quite as well as that of | mn i (sa ee 00 nm ee — . Alva Pennington gazed at the speaker intent- | ly fora brief space, then silently obeyed, fold-. ing the package of bills and placing them in his wallet. **I accept the condition,” he said, gravely. ‘** Money is very dear to me, now. With it, I~ hope to win a fortune, and by means of that fortune, gain a wife.” A swift change came over the face of Monte : Jim as be listened to this speech. All trace of mockery vanished, and in its place came a gravity rarely to be seen thee. ‘ ‘You are alluding to Miss Pennington, I pre- sume?” ‘*'Yes. Let me tell you just how we stand in our relations to each other, and then you will understand why it is I am so anxious to have you prove yourself Lloyd Pennington, as well | as my reasons for betting high in bopes of win- - ning a fortune off-hand,” said the young man, his voice grave and earnest. ~~ * _ Her sole purpose in coming here is to find | you— Pa ‘To find me?’ echoed Monte Jim, inevident surprise, “n ** Or Lloyd Pennington, which amounts to the | _ ape same thing.” ae “Of course; I forgot my new name,” witha **Don’t let that trouble Age 2 aa an say. Searching for me, you say? Wat ear ey or? a5! 7 a> “That’s the puzzle!” ejaculated the yo ae man, scowling with evident irritation. ‘‘She’s . kept her secret, even from me, though she romises to let me know all, when her search — fairly succeeded.” ai ‘* Mysterious!” commented Monte Jim, with — a slow shake of the heaa, as he thoughtfully ulled at his blonde mustaches. “Do you — a ‘i. Pres s roe r4 . al ha as * ine aes now, brother, ’m getting a little nervous? — Suppose the young lady has some secret claim on me? Suppose she comes forward as a claimant of a long-lost husband, or something of that sort? It would hardly shock or sur- prise me more than the claim you persist in’ making.” >Re ‘*Don’t be an infernal fool!” growled Pen- _ nington, too much in earnest to relish a jest,if jest Monte Jim intended. ng ‘Which you think I would be, for deserting such a charmin mere I quite aeree with bese x dear brother. And if she really has any matri- monial sentiments, [ll do my best to meet her half-way; be sure of that!” a ‘* And be sure of this /” grated Alva Penning- ton, leaning across the table with tightly- clinched fists, his eyes glowing with ared light, bis strong teeth grating. ‘‘ Were you old | my brother, I’d cut your heart out the moment _ you stepped between that woman and me! Is — that plain talk?” ae ‘*So! that’s the way the wind blows, is it?’ — exclaimed Monte Jim, elevating his eyebrows, — ‘“*If I don’t marry Medea Pennington, noother — man shall ever fill the position,” added Penning- — ton, with more calmness, but not a whit — 8S earnestness of purpose. ‘I say this that you~ may have no excuse for making a mistake, I say, just as frankly, that I believe you can win ~ her for your wife, if you think proper to make the effort.” - Se “‘And as a lager Gy you would prese ab me with a bit of cold 1 or a few blue pills, © laced where they would do the most good?” aughed Monte Jim. "on **Unless you killed me before I chance,” doggedly replied the other, 3 ‘** As an affectionate brother, you promise to be a success, I must confess.” Re ‘*Look here, Lloyd; let me tell you. I worshiped Medea ever since I left off roun¢ jackets. I know I don’t deserve such a treasure —that I am not half good enough for her—but — if I can’t have her for my wife, no other man ~ shall while I draw the breath of life!” Fs, ‘* Well, you are bard hit, sure enough!” ‘*T loved her so desperately that I actually was afraid to tell her so, until less then six — months ago, when her father died, leaving an orphan, alone in the world, saveforme.” ‘* And me,” interposed Monte Jim. “If she ~ is your cousin, and | am your brother, she must be my relative, as well.” i. *] thought you dead at that time: in fac we all thought so, for Medea and I had ofte spoken of you, wondcring what bad caused your _ sudden disappearance. But let me take the sto: < fi of how we came here, on your track, by the — right end. ans ‘When uncle died, I plucked up courage to — avow my love for Medea, and asked her to © marry me. I really had some Lopes of success, — for she had always appeared fond of me, though © I showed myself such a basbful fool in her pres- ence. As she was left alone in the world, Pel a reasonably sure she would accept me, and vou can imagine wnat a terrible bloW it was to me when she said plainly that she held herseli a Fan FS - * he tw 648 got the > hy se it Ve | vem - = iu “=? ye ’ ~' Be 43 a "3 a JOO!