THE GAMBLER'S STORY.

Waikato Times, Volume XXVII, Issue 2254, 18 December 1886, Page 2 (Supplement)

THE GAMBLER'S STORY.

I mot him by accident in a railway station. The train was late and he and I were tho only occupants of the dingy little waiting room. Under these circumstances folks are drawn toward each other by the magnetism of mutual discomfort, and we fell to talking. He was a fine looking fellow, tall, well built and vigorous, but an air of indeBcribnble melancholy permeated his appearance and tinged even his talk to such an extent that our conversation languished, and would probably have died entirely had he not finally turned around and said to me : • You must excuse me, sir, for an apparent moodiness. The truth ia that I am unable to shako off the recollection that to-night is the anniversary of a sad and singular event in my life. I was a professional gambler in iry younger days, and dealt faro for a living, but ten years ago to-night I quit for ever under circumstances that oven now halt unman mo, and almost call the tears to my eyes. I have no objection to telling jou the story if you think that it would interest you.' I begged him togoon,and he proceeded about as follow! : • Ten years ago,' he said, 'I was the proprietor of club rooms at Baltimore, where I dealt a game of faro for a select circle of players. They were all heavy bettors, business men most of them, and I cateied the game only. My rooms weie sumptuously fitted up. There was no appoir.tmeut that gilded vice could suggest that was not at hand, and my side- board groaned with the choicest vintages that money could buy. " One night when the game was slack and I was lounging in the dealer's chair under the great crimson globe of the chandelier, a stranger entered the room. He was very young, but dissipation or care had drawn lines upon his boyish face, and his dark eyes burned with a feverish light. As he approached the table I marked how ghastly pale he was and that his hand trembled as though with a chill. He took a seat and drawing a thousand dollar bill from his pocket, tossed it across the table. " Give me that much in chips,' he said in a tremulous voice. * I think he must have played for an hour. Luck went back and forth for a while, but finally it set in against him and I raked in the last of his ivories. For a moment he sat motionless, staring 1 , dazedlike, at the floor, then he lifted up his haggard face to mine. ' Sir 1 he said, • you have, without knowing it, done me a favor. Had I won, I would have kept on in the old way ; now that I have lost I will never gamble again.' I smiled cynically. ' Yes, 1 I said, ' I have heard people talk that way before.' ' You mistake me,' he went on in a voice that thrilled my very heart. ' I will not gamble again because the last card was my death warrant. Listen to roe. That thou«and dollars I have lost was the last of fortune, home, and honour. It is gone, all gone to enrich your clan. I am not blaming you ; I am not complaning ;I am simply statins: a fact. I am to-night the worst of paupers — one without trade, with profession, without the ability to support the wife who is this moment confidently and trustinijly awaiting my return. She knows nothing of my gradual downfall. I have dissimulated, God knows how, before her. I have not now one dollar upon the faceof the earth, and I determined when I entered your door that if it came to this, if my last stakelost, I would thus terminate the failures aud follies of my life. lam in earnest. Something impelled me to tell you this, and these will probably be my last words,' he said with a look of pain. * I irose, deeply moved and pulling open the drawer took out the thousand dollar bill. ' Here my friend,' I said, ' take back this money and begin life over again Ib will keep you until yon can find employment. Go home and confess everything to your wife, be a man and keep out of gambling hells forever.' *He started violently, turned crimson, and for an instant choked up his throat. 4 Generous man,' he said finally, ' I cannot and will not accept this money. Isit yours, you won it fairly, but if you will give me half of it, I will follow your advice. You may not realise it,, sir, but you have to-night snatched a soul from the brink of eternity. • I counted him out $">OO, and with tears stseaming from his eyes he left the house.' 4 And from that time you quit gambling?' I exclaimed, strangely impressed by the narrative.' 1 No not exactly from that time,' replied the stranger choking a s»b, 'it was from about an hour later, when I found out that the thousand dollar bill was counterfeit aril I had been worked for the $300.' I walked into the still, solemn night and waited for the train.