Part 15 (1/2)

Brent was silent for a moment: ”But, he must not hear--yet. I'll make another strike, one of these days--and then-----”

”Did you make a strike?” asked Reeves.

Brent nodded. ”Yes, I was on the very peak of the first stampede. Did you, by chance, ever hear of Ace-In-The-Hole?”

Reeves smiled: ”Yes--notorious gambler, wasn't he? Were you here when he was? Made a big strike, somewhere, and then gambled away ten or twenty million, didn't he, and then--I never did hear what became of him.”

Brent smiled: ”Yes, he made a strike. Then, I suppose, he was just what you said--a notorious gambler--his losses were grossly exaggerated, they were not over two millions at the outside.”

”A mere trifle,” laughed Reeves, ”What ever became of him.”

”Just at this moment he is seated at a dining table, talking with a generous host, and a most charming hostess----”

”Are _you_ Ace-In-The-Hole?”

”So designated upon the Yukon,” smiled Brent.

Mrs. Reeves leaned suddenly forward: ”Oh, why don't you--why don't you brace up? Let liquor alone, and----”

Brent interrupted her with a wave of the hand: ”Theoretically a very good suggestion,” he smiled, ”But, practically--it won't work.

Personally, I do not think I drink enough to hurt me any--but we will waive that point--if I do, it is my own fault.” He was about to add that he was as good a man as he ever was, but something saved him that sophistry, and when he looked into the face of his hostess his muddy eyes twinkled humorously. ”At least,” he said, ”I have succeeded in eliminating one fault--I have not gambled in quite some time.”

”And you never will gamble again?”

Brent laughed: ”I didn't say that. However I see very little chance of doing so in the immediate future.”

”Promise me that you never will?” she asked, ”You might, at least, promise me that, if you won't give up the other.”

”What a.s.surance would you have that I would keep my promise?” parried the man.

Quick as a flash came the reply, ”The word of a Brent!”

Unconsciously the man's shoulders straightened: He hesitated a moment while he regarded the woman gravely: ”Yes,” he said, ”I will promise you that, if it will please you, 'Upon the word of a Brent.'” He turned abruptly to Reeves, ”We had better be getting at that job again, or we won't finish it before dark,” he said, and with a bow to Mrs. Reeves, ”You will excuse us, I know.” The woman nodded and as her husband was about to follow Brent from the room she detained him.

”Who is he?” asked Reeves, as the door closed behind him.

”Who is he!” exclaimed his wife, ”Why he's Carter Brent! The very last of the Brents! Anyone in the South can tell you what that means. They're the bluest of the blue bloods. His father, the old General, owns the bank, and about everything else that's worth owning in Plantersville, and half the county besides! And oh, it's a shame! A shame! We've got to do something! You've got to do something! He's a mining engineer, too. I recognized him before he told me, and when I mentioned Plantersville, did you see his hand tremble? I was sure then. Oh, can't you give him a position?”

Reeves considered: ”Why, yes, I could use a good mining engineer.

But--he's too far gone. He couldn't stay away from the booze. I don't think there's any use trying.”

”There is, I tell you! The blood is there--and when the blood is there it is _never_ too late! Didn't you notice the air with which he gave me his promise not to gamble 'Upon the word of a Brent.' He would die before he would break that promise--you see.”

”But--he wouldn't promise to let liquor alone. The gambling--in his circ.u.mstances is more or less a joke.”

”But, when he gets on his feet again it won't be a joke!” she insisted.

”You mark my words, he is going to make good. I can _feel_ it. And that is why I got him to promise not to gamble. If you can make him promise to let liquor alone you can depend on it he will let it alone. You'll try--won't you dear?”