GILDED VICE.
They ascended a staircase that turned at right angles upon itself. This
led to the gaming-rooms above. A fretted partition concealed it from the
doorway, and until one had ascended to its crest he had no intimation of
the play that was going on. The top being reached, however, there could
be heard the busy clatter of the ivory ball speeding about the wheel and
the rattle of ivory chips.
When the gaming-room was entered Frank’s keen eyes took in the general
appearance of the place, and a glance showed him that it was furnished
for gambling alone. There were the roulette-tables, double-banked, with
the wheel in the center. Against the walls were the tables for faro.
Chairs for the players, the dealers, and the croupiers were the only
furnishings on the floor.
A collection of quiet, well-dressed men were playing at the various
tables. They were polite and gentle in their movements, quiet of speech
and apparently engaged in an occupation to which they were well
accustomed and familiar.
It was the air of Canfield’s place. Every one entering there was
supposed to act like a gentleman and to betray little emotion, no matter
what his losings or his winnings might be.
And the play was high. Canfield was too impatient to bother with men who
bet five or ten dollars. He cared nothing for small fry, but his lines
were out constantly for big fish. The white checks cost a dollar each in
that room.
The mural decorations of the room prevailed in Pompeiian red, and all
about were panelings and other furnishings of a wood corresponding to
unstained mahogany.
In this room hung an excellent example of the painter’s art, for
Canfield was a connoisseur in fine paintings and rare prints, about
which he would gladly talk by the hour. The handsome painting in the
gambling-room he called a “Simmons.”
When they reached the gambling-room Herrick motioned toward a rear
apartment, saying:
“Let’s have something to eat before we begin playing, gentlemen. I am
hungry.”
“And I’ve got a terrible thirst on me,” murmured Madison, who had been
strangely quiet and subdued since the appearance of the desperate and
despairing youth in the reception-room. Frank saw Madison’s face was
pale, and there was a look of dread in his eyes. All his rollicking
manner had departed from him.
“He’s in trouble,” thought Merry; “and the sight of the other fellow has
given him a start. I don’t think he stands in with Herrick.”
They moved toward the dining-room at the rear of the gambling-apartment.
This room Frank found to be in keeping with the rest of the place. The
paneling was handsomely carved, and the napery on the table was the best
that could be procured. Beneath the softened lights, cut glass gleamed
like diamonds. Overhead it was tastefully decorated in bronzed leather.
Herrick led the way, and they were shown to a table by polite waiters,
who placed the chairs for them.
Frank looked at the menu in surprise, for he saw quickly that it
compared in its range with the very best places of the city. There were
all sorts of salads, cold salmon and cold roast meats. A bird, a bit of
game, or a cutlet might be ordered.
The wine-list seemed to include everything choice and extravagant.
“Order what you like, gentlemen,” said Herrick. “Everything is free here
to Canfield’s customers.”
“Do you mean to say there is no charge for this?” asked Merry, not a
little surprised.
“No charge at all,” assured the man with the dark mustache.
They gave their orders, which were soon filled by the attentive
servants. Herrick took pains to order plenty of wine; but, to his
surprise, he suddenly found that Frank Merriwell would not drink.
Frank had a reason, for now it would not be easy for him to lead his
companions into believing he had drunk the same as the others. They did
not know that he had not touched a drop, and he had accomplished his
purpose in keeping close to Jack Diamond and watching Herrick.
It was useless for Herrick to urge; Frank could not be moved.
“That’s right, Merriwell!” exclaimed the Virginian. “You keep sober and
let me do the drinking for both of us.”
Madison, too, hastened to put away a bottle of wine, and the color began
to come back to his face.
“Didn’t know I had so little nerve,” he said. “Been cold ever since that
chap pulled the gun and tried to blow the top of his head off.”
“Oh, hang a welcher!” sneered Herrick. “His squealing made me sick! But
it’s lucky Mr. Merriwell grabbed him just as he did. Canfield ought to
thank him for that.”
“I ask no thanks from Canfield,” said Frank coldly.
“Don’t talk about it!” implored Madison.
Herrick was cool, but it became plain that his declaration that he was
hungry had not been true, for he ate only a few mouthfuls. Frank ate
more, but Diamond seemed in a hurry to get back to the gaming-room.
Madison was strangely troubled, sometimes flushing, only to pale again.
“Curse it!” Madison finally cried. “Why did that fellow come down there
and make a scene with his pistol!”
“Forget it,” laughed Herrick.
“That’s all right to say, but it isn’t easy to do. I’m a fool! I’ll be
in the same way that chap is if I don’t look out!”
“Nonsense! Luck was against you the last time, Billy, but you are almost
always a winner.”
“I believe my luck has turned. But I’m in the hole.”
“Got to find your money where you lost it, my boy,” purred the tempter.
“That’s right!” exclaimed Madison, rising. “Come on, gentlemen; let’s go
out there and see if fortune will smile on us to-night.”
They left the dining-room, returning to the apartment where quiet,
well-dressed men were gambling.
“What shall it be, jack?” asked Madison. “Will we go against the
roulette wheel, or try faro a whirl? I leave it to you.”
“I lost two thousand at the faro-table last night,” said the Virginian.
“I am going back to the same table.”
“I’m with you,” laughed Madison.
Diamond seated himself at the table, feeling for his money. He did not
find it at once, and he continued to search through other pockets. At
length, he rose, saying:
“I believe I have lost my money!”
He was very quiet and cool about it.
“What’s that?” asked Herrick, who had also taken a seat at the table.
“How could you have lost it?”
“I don’t know.”
“You had it at the Hoffman House?”
“Yes.”
“He had it just outside the door here,” said Madison, “after he paid the
cabman there.”
“I did that from loose money in my trousers pocket,” said the
Southerner. “I am not certain the rest of my money was with me then. But
I remember putting it in my pocket at the hotel.”
“My money is all right,” said Madison.
Herrick was looking at Frank in a very suspicious manner, but Merry was
watching Jack. Diamond again went through his pockets, but with no
better result.
“It’s gone!” he declared, with forced calmness. “It’s plain I shall not
be able to play here to-night.”
“I can let you have some money on your paper, old man,” said Herrick.
“No; I think I’ll not take it. I’ve dropped enough to-night. There was
about five thousand dollars in that roll.”
The Southerner was keeping his nerve in an admirable manner.
“How do you suppose you lost it, Jack?” asked Frank, with anxiety
expressed on his face.
“I haven’t the least idea,” confessed Diamond.
“Perhaps it was lost in the cab. Do you know the driver?”
“The cab-driver is all right,” said Herrick. “It wasn’t lost in there,
unless——”
“Well, it will do no harm to look for it without delay,” said Frank.
“Come, Mr. Madison, will you go with us?”
Madison looked surprised, doubtful, hesitating. He did not seem able to
make up his mind at once.
“You have your chance to get square to-night, Billy,” said Herrick. “Mr.
Merriwell can help Jack look for his money. We’re here; let’s play the
game.”
Merriwell touched Madison on the shoulder.
“You had better come with us,” he said.
“Get out!” hissed Herrick, scowling. “What are you trying to do,
Merriwell? Let him alone, will you!”
“You see, Mr. Madison, that your friend is very anxious for you to play.
Perhaps he has a reason. You know there are ‘stools’ for places like
these.”
Herrick jumped up and thrust himself between Merry and Madison.
“Look here!” he panted; “if you mean to insinuate that I am a ‘stool,’
you’re a liar!”
Then, quick as a flash, the young Yale athlete grasped him by the
collar, lifted him, gave him a whirl and swept the faro-table clean with
his body.
As Herrick dropped off at the other end of the table, Merriwell quietly
grasped Madison’s arm, speaking calmly:
“Take the advice of one who would be your friend; play no more in this
place. Remember the young fellow who tried to blow a hole in his head, a
short time ago.”
Madison turned pale.
Men had leaped up as Charley Herrick was flung across the faro-table.
Servants rushed forward. Frowning faces surrounded Frank Merriwell.
Somebody said:
“Put him out!”
Herrick jumped up and started for Frank, but three men held him off,
speaking to him in a warning way. Other men attempted to take hold of
Frank.
“Be kind enough to keep your hands off!” spoke Frank quietly, clearly,
distinctly, his eyes flashing and the hot color flaming in his cheeks.
“If you want a nasty row, just grab me. If you will have it quiet, keep
off!”
There was something in his manner that held them off for a moment.
Herrick tried to break away.
“If I could get hold of him, I’d break the young pup in two!” he
snarled.
“I’ll be pleased to give you an opportunity to try that trick, sir,
anywhere outside of this house. I do not care to get into trouble here,
for I’d not have it known for any amount of money that I visited such a
place.”
Frank spoke quietly, but his meaning could not be misunderstood. He
seemed to regard with pity the victims of the gambler who were looking
on.
“Who are you, that you are so particular about your reputation?”
somebody asked.
“He’s Frank Merriwell, of Yale, and I’m his friend, gentlemen!” declared
Diamond, at Frank’s side.
“Here comes Canfield!”
They parted to permit the serene, calm, well-dressed man to advance. His
immobile face was inscrutable. He bowed slightly to Frank, speaking in a
gentle, gentlemanly voice:
“I am sorry, Mr. Merriwell, that you should have any trouble with a
patron of my house. I do not like to have such disturbances here.”
Frank looked at the keeper of the gambling-house. Canfield was
interesting to him.
“The fellow brought it on himself,” said Merry. “I had no intention of
making a disturbance, for I have partaken of your hospitality, though I
have left none of my money here. I think you made a mistake, Mr.
Canfield, in having any dealings with a man of his caliber. He is
altogether too eager for his percentage.”
Canfield’s face did not change, though it seemed that a shade of color
rose to his cheeks.
“Your insinuation is unpleasant, Mr. Merriwell,” he spoke, in the same
restrained voice.
“Because it strikes home, I presume. But I am not going to make a scene
here, Canfield. I am sorry for you, but you are not nearly as much to
blame as the wolves who hold office in this city and take your
hush-money, for which they give you protection. Some day they will hear
the outcry of the indignant people; they will find they are cornered;
they will realize that they can protect you no longer with safety to
themselves, and then they will stand back and let the hand of outraged
virtue fall on you. In your extremity you need not look for aid to those
men in high places—those men whose pockets you have lined with gold.
They will turn their faces from you; they will not know you. You will
suffer; they will hold the offices they have betrayed. They will say,
‘We have cleaned the city!’ but as long as the blind people permit such
harpies to retain their positions of trust and go unpunished, vice will
still flourish.”
Frank stopped suddenly, and then said:
“Excuse the lecture! I didn’t mean to do it, Canfield; it was an
accident, I assure you!”
The faintest smile curled the gambler’s lips.
“Never mind,” he said. “I see Harvard will have to hustle in her next
debate with Yale. Without doubt you have shot off lots of truth, Mr.
Merriwell; but you are damaging my business. Would you mind going out
quietly, without further demonstration?”
Frank could not help admiring the fellow.
“I’ll go.”
“Thank you,” bowed the gambler. “The man at the door will be notified
not to admit you again, so you can save time by not taking the trouble
to call.”
“And you might have spared your breath, for there was not the least
danger that I would ever again present myself at your door.”
“Still, I wish you to understand that I have no feelings against you. In
fact, having read about you in the papers, I learned to admire you some
time ago. If we were to meet elsewhere, I’d take pleasure in chatting
with you a while. Good night, Mr. Merriwell.”
“Good night, sir,” said Frank, slipping his arm through Diamond’s and
turning away.
A hand gripped Merry’s other arm.
“Hold on!” panted a voice. “Don’t leave me! I’m going with you! I’m done
for if I don’t get out of here now!”
It was Billy Madison, pale as a ghost, but determined to escape from the
snare which had already tangled his wayward feet.
“Good!” said Frank, with keen satisfaction. “Come on!”
The flushed men in evening dress stepped back before them, and they
walked from the room, descended the stairs, were helped on with their
top-coats, and left the house.
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