Volume Ii Part 14 (1/2)

”You don't play?” said Captain Ablewhite to him, who held the bank at that moment.

”No,” said Jeremiah; ”not to-night.”

At each table there was a player who profited by the indifferent play of his comrades, and who, according to Jeremiah's just calculation, was bound to rise a winner. ”It is easy enough,” said Jeremiah mentally; ”only what they win they don't keep. _I_ would!” A new world seemed to be opening out to this young man--a new world filled with fools emptying their purses into his. Why not? He did not disturb or interfere with the players, and although one superst.i.tious man fidgeted about uneasily when Jeremiah stood at his back looking over his cards, Jeremiah's conduct was sufficiently un.o.btrusive and quiet not to excite displeasure.

At about two o'clock there was a kind of informal supper, of which Jeremiah freely partook, amazed at the profusion of good things handed about by the waiters. The liberality was a revelation to him, but he was discreet enough to betray no outward surprise. He was taking a lesson which he meant to profit by. Most men would have drunk too much, and most of the men in Captain Ablewhite's rooms did, but not Jeremiah Pamflett; still the two or three gla.s.ses of champagne he drank (the gla.s.ses being goblets) had a slight effect upon him. He maintained his equilibrium, however, physically and mentally. The fortunes of the night had pretty well declared themselves: three men had lost each some hundreds of pounds, and were desperately striving to get it back by plunging; others had lost in a lesser degree; the only winners were Captain Ablewhite and the two cool-headed players, one at each table, who continued playing their steady game. Jeremiah thought he would try his luck, and he took a sovereign from his pocket, and followed in the wake of the cool-headed gamester at the baccarat table. He won, and staked it again, and won. No one took any notice of his winnings, which were pushed across to him quite carelessly. At half-past four in the morning Jeremiah walked out of Captain Ablewhite's rooms with forty odd sovereigns winning money in his pocket. He walked along in a high state of elation, with his hand in his trousers pocket, clutching the gold and counting it. Forty-one, forty-two, forty-three, forty-four. Yes; forty-four sovereigns. And so easily won!

He felt quite fresh, although it was his habit to be in bed before midnight. He reviewed the scene at which he had been present, recalled different hands of cards he had seen dealt out, and the course of the play, and calculated how much he might have won had he done this or that. That he would have done the right thing always he was sure; and it is likely he was correct, because it was a simple matter of calculation of odds and chances. One of the cool-headed players had won six hundred pounds; the other, four hundred. ”I might have done the same,” thought Jeremiah.

Captain Ablewhite had said something to him before he left.

”I wonder you don't play a bit. With your head for figures you would win a fortune.”

That was it--with his head for figures. ”I could snuff them all out,” he thought.

Captain Ablewhite had also said, ”Drop in to-morrow at two or three.”

In compliance with this invitation, Jeremiah walked up the stairs of the house in Piccadilly at half-past two o'clock on the following day. In this--the being master of his time, left entirely to himself to do as he pleased--lay the great value of his situation with Miser Farebrother. He was his own master. With the miser eternally at the office looking over him, niggling and naggling at this and that, Jeremiah would have had but scant opportunities for attending to Number One.

At the door of the outer of Captain Ablewhite's rooms stood a man-servant, who asked Jeremiah's name.

”Mr. Pamflett,” said Jeremiah. ”Captain Ablewhite expects me.”

”If you will wait here a moment,” said the man, ”I will tell Captain Ablewhite.”

He returned very quickly, and Captain Ablewhite with him.

”Ah, Mr. Pamflett,” said the Captain. ”Just one word.” He drew Jeremiah aside: ”What you see inside is private.”

”Not to be spoken of?” said Jeremiah rather mystified.

”Not to a soul,” said Captain Ablewhite. ”Is that settled?”

”Yes.”

”Come along, then.”

The rooms had undergone a transformation. There was an air of serious business about them and the twenty or thirty men a.s.sembled there. Every one of the men had a little book, which he consulted, and in which he was making calculations. At two tables sat two clerks with account-books. There was a ”tape” in the room, and a man standing by it, reading the messages aloud.

”False start,” this man said aloud as Jeremiah Pamflett entered.

”Go and help yourself,” said Captain Ablewhite, pointing to the buffet, which was in its accustomed corner, crowded with bottles, gla.s.ses, cigars and sandwiches.

CHAPTER XIII.

JEREMIAH DISCOVERS A ”SYSTEM” BY WHICH HE MUST MAKE A LARGE FORTUNE.

Just before the man called out ”False start,” there had been a momentary lull in the room, the princ.i.p.al bets having been made and booked, but when the two words were spoken a buzz of eager inquiries commenced. ”How much Silver Rose?” ”Northampton for a pony--what price?” ”I'll take twelves and threes Peter Simple, a tenner each way.” ”I want to back an outsider for a fiver.” To most of these propositions rapid answers were returned by a man who seemed to have the direction of affairs. He was a man with a face like a ribstone pippin and clear grey eyes. A great number of the propositions led to business and booking on both sides.

Then came the sound of the tape, and another hush, everybody craning forward to hear the message. ”They're off!” said the man at the tape. At this the betting practically ceased, and all in the room waited in expectancy, with more or less eagerness. The distinguis.h.i.+ng mark of the company was that nearly every man in it was a swell, half of them, at least, having t.i.tles to their names. Presently the little bell, the tinkling of which preceded the ticking of each fresh message, rang, and the tape recommenced its labours. ”Result,” called the man: ”p.r.i.c.kly Pear first, Silver Rose second, Peter Simple third.” A hubbub ensued. ”I told you to back the favourite; it was a dead certainty; at least a stone in hand.” ”I've cleared a century.” ”I lose a hundred and forty.