HALF THE NINE OF HEARTS.

Press, Volume LXV, Issue 13546, 6 October 1909, Page 3

HALF THE NINE OF HEARTS.

Br E. F. Fobtee. Arthur 'Muybridge, just out of collego, was winding up hie trip abroad. Happening to run across Frank Robinson a New York friend, who was rushing' for a train, he had only time to promise to dine with him at the Savoy on the next day, and to make up a rubber at-bridge. ...

Returning to his hotel, not knowing exactly what to do with himself, he appealed to the clerk-at the desk, who sed him to go to the coronation ball at Covent Garden. , . line men did not wear masks m London, the cierki told him, and all he needed was evening dress. Hβ need not be afraid to speak to anyone he saw, the clerk added, with a smilej there would be no offence. . Arriving shortly after midnight, Arthur Muybridge stood idly on the raised steps round the dancing floor, looking at the throng of beautiful costumes that were to compete for the grand prize. Some women, wore masks and ebme did not; among them Muybridge recognised one or two favourites of the footlights. While still lolling against a post, Muybridge became suduenly conscious of a girl standing beside 'him and also watching the dancers. She was evidently not a competitor for the grand prize, being ordinary, evening dress; but, by ivay of a mask sho wore a pair of light grey automobile goggles, whioh gave her a very curious appearance aaid provoked a smile from almost everyone who saw her. Arthur Muybridge could not help observing the graceful figure, the finely rounded arms, the tapering shoulders, the c*lean-cut nose and chin, the pretty mouth, and the: provoking goggles that hid the tipper part of the rosy cheeks and the lower half of the fair forehead.

Somehow or other he felt that the girl at his side was out of her element among those surroundings. No one spoke to iher. She recognised no one who passed them on the floor below, although almost every man looked up at her with a smile. The hotel clerk's parting words, "You -can speak to anyone there without giving offence," kept ringing in his ears, until at last, haTdly realising what lie was doing, he made some remark to her about the costumes on the floor.

She blushed slightly, and answered in monosyllables; but she did not more away. She did not look at (him, her eyes seeming to follow a figure on the floor —that of a man, with his arms round a very decollate young woman in red. He 'looked like a foreigner, with very black curly hair and military moustache, handsome but .blase. Becoming bolder, 'Muybridge asked the «*irl if he might not have the next dance.

- "Oh, tihanks, no!" she said quickly. "I am only here to look on. In fact, I came just for a lark." He laughed lightly, and explained that such was his own case. "I judge from your accent that you are an American," he added. "I guess you are, too," she answered, showing a perfect set of teeth, and turning the goggles full upon him. f 'Yes. I am Arthur Mnybridge, of New York."

"Indeed!" she said simply. "I did not know that persons gave their names to strangers in places Tike this." "There are no strangers here this evening," he said smiling. "Come, I really must have just one waltz with you, Miss — : — What shall I call you ?" "Call mc Miss Brown, if you don't mind.'' She took his arm and stepped down on the dancing floor for the waltz. He could dance , , co could ehe. They put to shame all the English waltzers on the floor. If the grand prize had been for the dancing, and not for the dresses, they would nave won it "feet down," he assured her. After the dance they sat down for a few minutes, and he noticed that she followed the foreigner with her eyes as he escorted the girl in red to an upper box and ordered wine. A smile of contempt curled her lip for a moment; then she turned to her companion and mechanically stood up for the next dance, without waiting to be asked, even. '

Neither of them liad a dance card, and she said that she would give him ''just one more' 5 and then she must be going; but she did not go. She 6eemed to be quite at ease with her newfound acquaintance, and he was getting more deeply infatuated with her at every moment. Several other men asked her for a dance, only to be met by a pleasant smile and a firm refusal.

Arthur Muybridge could not help expressing' his appreciation of the»eubtle iiatterv of her devotion to him, which seemed to be interrupted only by .her occasional glances at the foreigner. A couple whirled passed them m the dance, and the man smiled, as though in pleased recognition. .She turned l.er head away, with a blush. "I believe that gentleman thinks be knows mc," she whispered. "No. It is I whom he recognises.' Muybridge assured her. '"That's Frank Robinson, another American. lam to dine with him to-morrow night; or, rather, to-night, as it is now. By the way," he added suddenly. "I suppose you did not come here alone ?"

"Of course not! But I must osk you not to follow mc -when I leave. I changed my ,dress and put on my goggles in the box, and even those I came with do not recognise mc. Isn't that a jo»;e. y But." eho added hastily, "this must positively be the last dance with you. It must he nearly two o'clock. You have been very nice." He felt a faint pressure of the hand as she spoke. As he escorted her from the floor, she glanced up at one of the boxes, and, seeing that it was empty, told him that he might go up with her and help her with her wrap as soon as the next music began. Alone with her for a moment, he begged her to take off the goggles just for a second; but she laughingly refused. Then he pleaded for some promise of further acquaintance; but she only laughed again, shaking her head very positively. Would ehe not give him a glove, or a ribbon, even? She couldn't think of such a tiling, and began to hunt for her veil among some overcoats that were laid on the chairs. One of these coats fell to the floor, and out' of the pocket dribbled several playing cards. Aβ she picked them up to replace them, an idea seemed to strike her, and, tearing one of them in half, she handed .him part of it. telling him to keep the other half, which she tucked into her bosom.

As she pushed the caros back into the pocket of the overcoat, she stopped suddenly and pulled out what she thought was a card-case; but it was a little pasteboard box, with a locket in it. Opening it with feminine curiosity, she glanced at the miniature inside; and Arthur Muybridge noted that it was the face of an Italian girl, in native costume. Instead of replacing it in the coat, she kept it in her hand as she pushed him out of the door. ''You jnust be going!" she exclaimed quickly. "They will be coming up from the dance. Good-bye, and —thank you so much. , '

By the light of the lamp in the hansom, Muybridge discovered that he u'as in possession of half the nine of hearts. ''The wish card," he whispered, (pressing it to his lips. "My wish is that we may meet again, perhaps never to part. Who knows?" Then he tucked it carefully away in his cardcase.

Muybridge was the first to arrive for the dinner, and Flank Robinson chaffed, him unmercifully about his fair partner, absolutely refusing to believe that he did not know who she was.

Imagine Arthur's surprise, when the guests assembled, to recognise onej r>f them as tho foreigner at tho Oovent Garden ball. The recognition was not mutual; for the foreigner had been too much occupied with the girl in red. He was presented as Count Fabritti, : n Italian of distinguished family. The three other men were Americans, oniy one of whom Muybridge had met before.

The dinner over, they adjourned to a private room for bridge; but, as one of them remarked that two sitting o it for a whole rubter was slow work, it was proposed to change the game to poker; and poker it was, the waiter providing them with small silvar enough to take the place of chips. The game had not proceeded very far before Muybridge's keen eyes told him that there was something peculiar about the count's methods. The foreigner certainly had extraordinary luck. Arthur Muybridge had conceived a violent dislike to the count from the first, although he could not tell just why. '•■:, He felt sure that his friends were being "rooked," and that Frank Robinson was getting the worst .of t, probably because he was the richest man in the .party. So persistently did luck run, against Robinson that, on two occasions when he had four of a kind leateu by the count, he tore up the .cards and threw them on the floor, insisting on calling for a new pack. The second time this happened the waiter informed them that it was too late to procure any more cards that night, and it looked as though the game would be broken up; but Frank Bobinson was so eager for a chance to retrieve his losses that he proposed to play even with a euchre pack. : Even a euchre pack could not Lβ made up without tho torn cards; toit suddenly tho count recollected that lie had brought a pack of cards from the dub the evening before, .to play solitaire with ; and lie still had them in his overcoat pocket. After some admonitions to Frank Robinson not to \>se. his temper and tear up the cards again, the game was resumed. The more closely Arthur watched the count, the more certain he became the count was a card sharper. And vet he t knew that it would te folly to say anything, as it would be his word against the count's, and a fight on his hands.

They had not clayed more than a f<»w rounds with the new cards when Robinson dealt and Muybridge opened a jack pot with four kings pat. To his astonishment, Frank raised him four times before the draw. No one else stayed; but the count looked wistfully at the pile of coins in the pool. Muybridge stood pat and bet the limit—twenty-five pounds—against Ro binson's one-card draw. Robinson glanced at the money for a moment, and then slowly turned up the edge ot the card he had 'drawn. The moment he saw what it was, he threw it t&ze upward on th& table, with an oath. "Look at that infernal nine of clubs! If that had been the nine of hearts, I had a straight flush and would have raised your head off. Arthur; but a straight is no good against your pat hand, I know." Hβ spread upon the table the seven, eight, ten, and jack of hearts, while Muybridge took the pot. "Where is that infernal card, anyway?" continued Robinson, "could I hare drawn it, or did one of you have it? ,.

Muybridge showed his four kings. The others denied having held the nine of hearts.

Robinson ran through the pack nurriedly, but the nine of hearts was not there. Then he went over the discards. Not there, either Then he counted the cards. The pack was jne short!

With a sudden feeling of' dizziness, Muybridge took ut> one of the cards and looked at the pattern on the back. It bore the monogram of some private club. He reached for his cardcase, in a dazed sort of way. and pulled out his half of the nine of hearts—the half that had been thrust into his hand at two