Evening Star Newspaper, September 29, 1929, Page 110

S o i 1 k § i 07D $4 7 A 2R e T AR AR 7 D 5 A ' R T a corner table in the restaurant of the Hotel de Paris, at Monte Carlo, four very distinguished local notabilities were enjoying a midday banquet. 3 Monsieur Robert, the director of the hotel, was host, white-haired, but vigorous, with keen dark eyes. % On his right sat Monsieur le General de St. Hilaire, from the barracks at Nice, a soldierly looking person, with fierce gray mustache, who wore his imposing row of ribbons with the air of one who has earned them. On the left of his host was Monsieur Desrolles, the chef de surete of Monaco, a man of mysteries, if ever there was one, tall, dark and hatchet-faced, severe of deportment, as befitted the custodian of many secrets. The fourth man at the table was Gustave Sordel, the leading spirit in the Societe des Bains de Mer, that vast organization responsible primarily for the gambling rooms, and, in a minor degree, for such less important institu- tions as the Baths, the Tir aux Pigeons, the Cafe de Paris, and the go!f course. The conversation was of food and its glorious corollary, wine. Monsieur Robert was engaged in the pleasing task of making the mouths of his guests water. Suddenly he broke off with a frown. At his elbow stood Henri of the reception bureau, with a paper in his hand. “What is this, Henri?” he demanded. “Mon- sieur Grammont is in his office. You see that I lunch with friends? An occasion, this! Why am I disturbed?” Henri overweighted with apologies. “It is Monsieur Grammont, who thought that you should see this, without delay,” he con- fided. “It is a thing incomprehensible. One does not know whether to allot the room.” Monsieur Robert produced a horn-rimmed eyeglass, and adjusted it. “The allotment of the. rooms is no concern of mine,” he grumbled. 6§OU will permit & word of explanation, " = Monsieur,” the young man begged eagerly. “From the Blue Train there arrived, a quarter - of an hour ago, this gentleman, Monsieur An- drew Tresholm, an Englishman. He had en- gaged by correspondence a room looking over rdens, with bath and small salon. - Mon- Grammont - suggested suite 39. I took t upon his arrival th the apartments and well, you perceive. I hand ureau of Police, and . He fills in his name— age, 36. His place of in England. He arrives at § s ggzgieéié Eé§55§zf QQEEEEB il Egg 2 young man added, “will remem- injunction.” - the chef ‘de surete assented. cases to have this profession been a certain slackness in g : § 3 B H 148 g E ¥ i s grateful acknowledgments i g H 5. out the official request,” he I press Monsieur Tresholm to He protests mildly. I insist. the pen, hesitates. Then he f that type—he smiles to him- writes.. Behold, Monsieur writes.” took the paper into his hand though bewildered. ' “ ‘Occupa~ out, “‘professional gambler'.” gambler’,” Monsieur Robert reading from the paper. - exchanged bewildered glances. “A joke perhaps?” the general suggested. young man shook his head. ¥Eg JEeil 1 g Ery 3 g i {4 i1 ;fig HE "-he declared. . “I asked him if he were , and he replied, ‘Certainly . . . It profession I have,’ he assured me, it keeps me fully occupied.” Those were rds. ‘Am I to send this in to the police?’ him. ‘Certainly,’ he assented. ‘If they know my profession, there it is.’” perhaps, is the end of the world for Monsieur Robert. “A professional ,» mark you. He may know something. A defeating system may have arrived. Soon may have to close your doors, Gustave, and I my hotel.” : [] Henri waited patiently. “What am I to do ;:tmz the gentleman’s room, Monsieur Robert?” T A Egg E gg i “Give it to him, by all means’™ was the - prompt reply. “See that Madame Grund adorns it with flowers, that the servants, too, show this eccentric every attention. Stop, though! His luggage!” “He has a great deal of very superior quality,” Henrl confided. “There is also a motor car of éxpensive make.” “Ma fol! He makes it pay!” Monsieur Robert grunted. “But that is very good. Excellent!” Henri -took his leave, and they all began to falk at once. “An inbecile without a doubt.” “Perhaps a humorist.” “Stop, stop, my friends!” Gustave Sordel begged. “There have been others who arrived Rere with equal confidenct; 'We have heard THE The Advent of Tresholm, Professional Gamester, Makes Monte Carlo Buzz. And the Story Is Told as Only This Master of Fiction Can Tell It. leaves that blank. Monsieur - Monsieur Tresholm seemed perfectly GAMBLER’S CHOICE — — ByE. Pi 4 4 before—we of the Casino—of the invincible system. Our visitor may be very much, in earnest. All 1 can say is, he l.s‘welcome." THE young man from the reception bureau . once more approached their table. “I thought it would interest you, sir,” he an- nounced, addressing his chief, “to see this gen=~ tleman. He has asked for a corner table for luncheon. He arrives now, in the doorway.” They look<d at him with very genuine curios- ity. A well built young man, of a little over medium height, dressed in gray tweeds. His complexion was sun-burnt, his eyes blue, his features good, and there was a quizzical curve at the corners of his lips and faint lines by his eyes which might have denoted a humor- ous outlook. Gustave Sordel looked at his victim with the eyes of the shearer who has opened his gates to the sheep. “He is of the type,” he decided. “They believe in themselves, these young Eng- lichmen with systems. We shall see.” Monsieur Robert grunted once more. “All very well, Gustave,” he declared; “that man is no fool. Discoveries are being made now which have startled the world—things that were de- clared inpossible. Why should it not have ar- rived at last—the perfect system?” “The gambler with inspiration,” Sordel ob- served, “sometimes gives temporary inconven- ience, but it is upon the world with systems that we thrive. I will drink to the health of this brave man.” Andrew Tresholm, an hour or so later, stood upon the steps of the hotel, looking out upon the gay little scene. A small boy, posted there for that purpose, rushed to the telephone to announce to theschefs de partie and officials of the Casino the impending arrival of this men- ace to their prosperity. There was a little stir in the hall, and every one neglected his coffee to lean forward and stare. The Senegalese porter approached with a low bow and a smile. “The Casino, sir,” he announced, pointing to the stucco building across the way. “I see it,” was the somewhat surprised reply. “Darned ugly place, too!” The man, who spoke only French, let it go at that. Tresholm pointed to a quaint little building perched on the side of the mountain overhead. * “What place is that?” he asked in Prench. “The Vistaero Restaurant, sir,” the man re- plied. “The Salles Privees have been open since 2 o'clock. The Sporting Club will be open at 4.” - R} : Tresholm showed no particular sign of in- terest in either announcement. A moment later he descended the steps, and the four very prosperous looking Frenchmen seated in the lounge rose to watch him. “The battle commences,” Gustave Sordel ex- claimed, with a chuckle. But apparently the battle was not going to commence, for Tresholm stepped into a very handsome two-seated car which a chauffeur had just brought round, took his place at the ::lxleel, and, skirting the gardens, mounted the “Ha, ha!” Monsieur Robert joked. victim escapes, Gustave.” “On the contrary,” was the complacent reply, “he mounts to the bank.” ~ In less than half an hour, instead of dealing out his packets of mille notes to the ghouls of the Casino according to plan, Andrew Tresholm was leaning over the crazy balcony of the most picturesquely situated restaurant in Europe, looking down at what seemed to be a collection of toy buildings out of a child’s play box. A waiter at his elbow coughed suggestively, and Tresholm ordered coffee. He stretched himself out in a wicker chair and seemed singularly content. The n. was warm, and Tresholm, who had ill endured the lack of ven- tilation in his so-called train de luxe the night before, dozed peacefully in his chair. He awoke to the sound of familiar voices—a woman’s, mu- sical and pleading, a man’s, dogged and ir- ritable. * “Can’t’ you understand the common sense of the thing, Norah?” the latter was arguing. “The luck must turn. It's got to turn. Take my case.- I've lost for four nights. ‘Tonight, therefore, I am all the more likely to win. What's the good of going home with the paltry sum we have left? Much better try to get the whole lot back.” “Five thousand pounds isn't a paltry sum by any means,” the girl protested. “It would make things much more comfortable for us, je;;r'l' though you still had to go on at your “Darn the job,” was the vicious rejoinder. Tresholm, who was now quite awake, rose deliberately to his feet and moved across to them. “Do I, by any chance, come across my young “Your - friends of Angouleme once more in some slight trouble? Can I be of any assistance?” The youth glanced across at him and scowled. The girl swung ‘round. “Mr. Tresholm!” she exclaimed. “Fancy your being here! Aren't we terrible people, squab- bling at the top of our voices in such a beau- tiful place?” SUNDAY ST:‘\R, WASHINGTON, D. C, SEPTEMBER 29, 1029 TRI‘-SHOLM sank into the chair which the young man, with an ungracious greeting, had pushed towards him. “I seem fated to come up against you two in moments of tribulation,” he remarked. “At Angouleme, I think, I really was of some assistance. You would never have reached the place but for my chauffeur, who, fortu- nately, knows more about cars than I do. A little pathetic you looked, Miss Norah—forgive me, but I never heard your other name—leaning against’ the wall by the side of the exquisite mountain road, wondering whether any good- * natured person would stop and ask if you were in trouble.” She smiled at the recollection. “And you did stop,” she reminded him gratefully. “You helped us wonderfully.” “It was my good fortune,” he said lightly, but with a faint note of sincerity in his tone. “And this time? What about it? * May I be told the trouble again? A discussion about gambling apparently. Well, I know more about gambling than I do about motor cars. Let me be your adviser.” “Much obliged.. It's no one else’s trouble except our own,” the young man intervened. “Or business, I suppose you would like to add,” Tresholm observed equably. “Perhaps your sister will be more communicative. “I .told you that night at the hotel at Angouleme of my reputation. I am a meddler in other people’s affairs. You young people ‘have been disputing about something. Let me settle the matter for you.” “Why not?” the girl agreed with enthusiasm. “Let me tell him, Jack.” “You can do as you jolly well please,” was the surly rejoinder. "The girl leaned across the little round table toward Tresolm. “We told you a little about ourselves at Angouleme during the evening of the day when you had been so kind to us,” she reminded him. “We are orphans and we have been living together at Norwich just on Jack's salary. Our name, by the way, is Bart- lett. We hadn’t a penny in the world except what Jack earned. “Then two months ago, quite unexpectedly, a distant relative whom we had scarcely ever heard of died and left us five thousand pounds each. We decided to pool the money, have a holiday—Jack’s vacation was almost due—and for once in our lives have a thoroughly good time.” “A very sound idea,” Tresholm murmured. “The place we both wanted to come to,” she went on, “was Monte Carlo. We bought a little motor car—you know something about that— and we reached here a few days ago. It was lots .of fun, but, alas, ever since we arrived Jack and I have disagreed. His point of view——" . “I'll tell him that myself,” her brother inter- rupted. “Ten thousand pounds our legacy was— nine thousand we reckoned, when our holiday's paid for, and the car. Well, supposing I in- vested it, what would it mean? Four hundred and fifty a year. Neither one thing nor the . other. It's just about what I'm earning. It wouldn’'t have helped me to escape. I should have had to go on just the same, and I hate the work like poison.” “Four hundred and fifty a year would have made life very much easier for us, even though you had to go on working,” she remarked wistfully. “Thinking of yourself, as usual,” he growled, “Well, anyhow, you agreed at first.” “Agreed to what?” Tresholm inquired. “To taking our chance of making a bit while we were here” he explained. “We decided to risk a couple of thousand pounds and see if we could make enough to live quietly somewhere tlips Oppernheim | o TATRIASIRY] ' R RT/N R T Ly “A professional gambler, mark you. He may know something. system may have arrived.” A defeating in the country, where there was golf and a bit of shooting.” “It wasn't my idea,” she ventured. “Of course, it wasn't,” he scoffed. “You're like all women. You're too frightened of losing to make a good sportsman.” “Well, we have lost,” she rejoined drily—"not two thousand, but four.” “That seems unfortunate,” was Tresholm’s grave comment. ‘“What is the present subjeet of your dispute?” “Simply this,” the young man confided. “We have spent, or shall have spent by the time we get home, a thousand pounds of the legacy. We have lost at the tables four thousand, and sold the little car we bought for half what we gave for it. We have five thousand left. Norah wants me to promise not to go into the Casino again, and to leave for home at once with five thousand pounds in the bank. I want to go, neck or nothing—win back at least our five thousand—perhaps a good bit more. The luck must turn.” “Quite s0,” Tresholm agreed. “There's a cer- tain amount of reason in what your brother says, Miss Norah.” She looked at him almost in horror. “You don't mean to say that you're going to advise him to risk the rest of our legacy!” she ex- claimed. Tresholm made no direct reply. He passed around his case and lighted a cigarette himself. “WELL," he pronounced, “I have a certain amount of sympathy for your brother's point of view. If I were in his position and had lost as much as you say, I think I should want a shot at getting some of it back, but,” he added, checking the young man’s exclama- tion of delight and the girl's little cry of dis- appointment with the same gesture, “I should want to know that the odds were level.” “Roulette’s & fair enough game,” the young man protested. “One chance in thirty-five against you—and zero, of course.” “You may call that fair,” Tresholm said calmly; “I don’t. I am assuming that with your small capital you're backing the numbers, Very well. The bank has the pull on you the whole of the time to the extent of 5 or 6 per cent. If you play chemin de fer, the cagnotte amounts to about the same thing. “I am with you in spirit, my young friend, but gambling at Monte Carlo isn’'t what I call gambling at &l. You're fighting a man of equal ability a storie heavier than yourself. It can't be done. It's automatic. You must lose.” “That's what I say,” the girl declared tri- umphantly. ‘W'e’re simply foolish to dream of throwing away the last of our money.” “But people do win,” her brother insisted. “There’s that Hungarian who won half a mil- - lion francs the night before last.” The Casino takes pretty good care to ad- vertise it when anything of that sort happens,” Tresholm pointed out. ‘“He’ll probably be in again tonight and lose the lot, and more besides. Now listen to me, Bartlett,” he went on. “I'm not against you in spirit. I'm against you in this particular proposal because you want to take on an impossibility. “The people who win here are just the people who play to amuse themselves, and who go away when they've had their fun, People in your position, with a few thousand pounds left over from a legacy and nothing else to fall back upon in the world, are the people who inevitably lose.” The young man thrust his hands into his trousers pockets. “It's no good trying to bhe scientific in gambling,” he said. “If you want to have a plunge you always must have a bit up against