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Dave Darrin on Mediterranean Service, a novel by H. Irving Hancock |
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Chapter 5. Danny Grin Fights A Smile |
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_ CHAPTER V. DANNY GRIN FIGHTS A SMILE Mr. Green Hat sets a trap at the gambling resort, into which Ensign Dalzell smilingly walks.
Here at tables were groups of men and women. Each player hoped to quit the tables that night richer by thousands. Most of them were doomed to leave poorer, as chance is always in favor of the gambling institution and always against the player. "It's a mad scene," murmured Dan, in a low voice. "You are looking on now at an exhibition of what is probably the worst, and therefore the most dangerous, human vice," Dave replied. "Bad as drunkenness is, gambling is worse." "What is at the bottom of the gambling mania?" Dan asked thoughtfully. "Greed," Dave responded promptly. "The desire to possess property, and to acquire it without working for it." "Some of these poor men and women look as if they were working hard indeed," muttered Dan, in almost a tone of sympathy. "They are not working so much as suffering," Dave rejoined. "Study their faces, Danny boy. Can't you see greed sticking out all over these countenances? Look at the hectic flush in most of the faces. And--look at that man!" A short, stout man sprang up from a table, his face ghastly pale and distorted as though with terror. His eyes were wild and staring. He chattered incoherently as he hastened away with tottering steps. Then his hands gripped his hair, as though about to tear it from his head. A few of the players in this international congress of greed glanced at the unfortunate man, who probably had just beggared himself, shrugged their shoulders, and turned their fascinated eyes back to the gambling table. One woman, young and charming, reached up to her throat, unfastening and tossing on the table a costly diamond necklace and pendant. "Now," she laughed hysterically, "I may go on playing for another hour." The Casino's representative in charge at that table smiled and shook his head. "We accept only money, madame," he said, with a grave bow. "But I have no more money--with me," flashed back the young woman, her cheeks burning feverishly. "I regret, madame," insisted the Casino's man. Then an attendant, at a barely perceptible sign from the _croupier_, as the man in charge of the table is called, stepped up behind the young woman, bent over her and murmured: "If you care to leave the table for a few minutes, madame, there are those close at hand who will advance you money on your necklace." The young woman pouted at first. In another instant there was a suppressed shout at the table. A player had just won four thousand francs. "I must have money!" cried the young woman, springing from her chair. "This is destined to be my lucky night, and I must have money!" As though he had been waiting for his prey, the attendant was quickly by the woman's side. Bowing, he offered his arm. The man, attendant though he was, was garbed in evening dress. Without a blush the woman moved away on this attendant's arm. "Shall we move on?" asked Dan. "Not just yet," urged Darrin, in an undertone. "I am interested in the further fate of that foolish young woman." Within five minutes she had returned. Her former seat had been reserved for her; the young woman dropped into it. "You have enough money now?" asked the woman at her left. "I have money," pouted the pretty young woman, "but be warned by me. The pawnbrokers at Monte Carlo are robbers. The fellow would advance me only six thousand francs, whereas my husband paid a hundred thousand for that necklace." A moment later the young woman was absorbed in the wild frenzy of play. "And that attendant undoubtedly gets a handsome commission from the pawnbroker," murmured Darrin in his chum's ear. "Greed here is in the very air; none can escape it who lingers." "How much have you lost, Darrin?" called a bantering voice in Dave's ear. The speaker was Lieutenant Totten. "About as much, I imagine, as you have, sir," was Darrin's smiling answer. "Meaning that you now have as much money as when you entered the place?" answered the lieutenant, banteringly. "Exactly," returned Darrin. "I have only to study the faces here to know better than to risk even a franc-piece at one of these tables." "And you, Dalzell?" inquired Totten. "I haven't any French money, anyway," grinned Dan. "Not at all necessary to have French money," laughed Totten. "Any kind of real money is good here--as long as it lasts. Every nation on earth is represented here to-night, and the attendants know the current exchange rate for any kind of good money that is coined or printed. Look closely about you and you will see other things that are worth nothing. There are men here, some of them limping, others showing the pallor of illness, who are undoubtedly French, English or Italian officers, injured at the front and sent home to hospitals. Being still unfitted to return to their soldier duties at the front, they are passing time here and indulging in their mania for gambling. And here, too, you will see wealthy French, Italian, English or Russian civilians who have returned to Monte Carlo to gamble, though later on they are pretty certain to be held up to contempt at home for gambling money away here instead of buying government war bonds at home." "You have been here before?" Dave asked. "Oh, yes," nodded Totten, "and as I do not play, and would not do so in any circumstances, this place has not much interest for me." "I can hardly imagine," said Ensign Darrin, gravely, "that I shall ever bother to pay a second visit here." "It's a good deal of a bore," yawned Lieutenant Totten, behind his hand. "I am glad to note that most of the people here look like Europeans. I should hate to believe that many Americans could be foolish enough to come here." At that moment a stout, red-faced man rose from a table near by, his voice booming as he laughed: "I have lost only sixteen thousand francs. I shall be sure to come back and have my revenge. In Chicago my signature is good at any time for a million dollars--for five million francs!" Many eyes, followed this speaker wistfully. With such wealth as his how many months of frenzied pleasure they might have at Monte Carlo! "One American idiot, at least," muttered Totten, in disgust. "Or else he's a liar or braggart." Madly the play went on, the faces of the players growing more flushed as the hour grew later. Totten moved along with a bored air. "I guess he's going," said Dan. "I don't blame him for being tired of the place. It's like a human menagerie." "We'll go, then," agreed Dave. "Surely I have seen enough of the Casino. I shall never care to revisit it." "Ah, here you are, my dear fellows!" exclaimed a musical voice. "And the Countess Ripoli has asked me to present you to her. She is eager to know if you American officers are as wonderful as I have told her." The speaker was Dandelli, a handsome, boyish-looking, frank-faced young Italian naval officer with whom Darrin and Dalzell had become acquainted at Gibraltar. The Countess Ripoli, to whom Dandelli now presented the two young ensigns, was a woman in the full flower of her beauty at twenty-five or so. Tall, willowy, with a perfect air, her wonderful eyes, in which there was a touch of Moorish fire, were calculated to set a young man's heart to beating responses to her mood. Attired in the latest mode of Paris, and wearing only enough jewels to enhance her great beauty, the Countess chose to be most gracious to the young ensigns. Dave thought her a charming young woman; Dan Dalzell nearly lost his head. From a distance Emil Gortchky looked on, a quiet smile gleaming in his eyes. "Dandelli is a fool, who will do any pretty woman's bidding," mused the spy. "Madame Ripoli can play with him. Also I believe she will surely ensnare for me at least one of the Americans. Which, I wonder? But then why should I care which? The Ripoli knows how to manage such affairs far better than I do." For the Countess was another of the many dangerous tools with which Mr. Green Hat plied his wicked trade. If the Countess, as unscrupulous as Gortchky himself, could ensnare either of these young officers with her fascinations, he was likely to be that much the weaker, and a readier prey for the trap that Emil Gortchky was arranging. "Dandelli," murmured the Countess sweetly, in French, "you will wish, I know, to talk with your dear friend, Mr. Darrin, so I must look to Mr. Dalzell to offer me his arm." Dan was ready, with a bow, to offer the Countess Ripoli his arm, and to escort her in the direction which she indicated. It was to one of the verandas that the Countess led the way. As she chatted she laughed and looked up at Dan with her most engaging expression. There were other promenaders on the veranda, though not many, for the furious fascination of gambling tables kept nearly all the frequenters of the place inside. "You have played to-night?" asked the Countess, again glancing sweetly up into the young naval officer's face. "Not to-night," Dan replied. "But you will doubtless play later?" she insisted. "I haven't gambled to-night, nor shall I gamble on any other night," Dan replied pleasantly. "But why?" demanded the Countess, looking puzzled. "Gambling does not fit in with my idea of honesty," replied Dalzell quite bluntly. _ |
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