The Arkansaw traveler., 1886-05-22

Tn Iact, the more ne pIayeu the more ne won, and the punters of the Greville club had excellent reason to regret that they had conquered his virtuous resolu- tions. Even Buttershaw groaned in spirit, and expressed frequent wishes that old Barnabas had not taken it into his head to make a pilgrimage to Lon don.
 Before the old man came" he would lament, |" it was bad enough. l used to lose a fl00 or so a night; but now, assure you, I've lost over q 300 to him within the last fortnight. Why, he must have won thousands He had indeed; and, from all appearances, the discomfted gamblers fully expected that he would win thousands more Now, Mir. Buttershaw belonged to sev eral clubs in addition to the Greville, for his aristocratic friends were power full enough to insure his admission to many similar institutions; and, of course he occasionally played at them, and asked their members to dine at his chambers.
 One day MT. Punter chanced to be walking somewhat moodily down St. James street, when he was accosted by q friend whom he had not seen for some weeks, and who happened to be a mem Der of club called the Parthian. situ- ated within the immediate neighbor- hood
 Come into my pothouse and have a drink said Punters friend, and Mr. Punter assented.
 " Anything been going on here lately in the card linc?' inquired the latter gentleman.
 " Not much here: but we've played once or twice in Buttershaw rooms, and there's an old chap, q pal of his, who wins like the very devil
 Really?'
 Yes; hes an admiral something sounded like Burnaby, but it wasn't. Used to be i'll the Chilian navy White haired old chap-wears spectacles.
 '" You don't say so?' said Mir Punter, feeling very singular sensation.
 Why? What do you mean?"
 " Nothing nothing! I'll have another split, please"
 Mir Punter left the Parthian, medi- tating much more gloomily than before. On his way to the Greville he met an other friend.
 Hullo." said the new conner You look precious solemn. Been losing moneY?'
 Yes confound it!' replied Punter. " flows luck with you2
 Mighty bad. Nearly broke. Met a chap in Buttershaw' s rooms who cleaned the whole lot of us out
 Mir. Punter grasped at lamp-post for support. What was his name?o he feebly gasped.
 Barabbas, or something likeit Ought to be Judas Iscariot An old sinner! Says hes been Peruvian consul at Odessa; don't believe there is any Peruvian con- sul at Odessa, but I'm going to a chap in the foreign office who can find out Ta-ta; you look mighty bad; take care of yourself
 Mir. Punter in fact felt very bad in- deed. Was it possible that, after his vast and varied experience he had been sharped and swindled like guileless schoolboy2 The very idea was torture, and he rushed on towards the Greville; but before he arrived there he remem- bered that Buttershaw had invited him to dinner that very evening and he de termined to do nothing rash. He would consult the duke, Sir Hector and the rest and warn Buttershaw that he had been cherishing a viper. But perhaps Buttershaw was in the plot himself, and Mir. Punters very brain began to reel with perplexity. There was no one particular in the club, so he spent the afternoon in fever of impatienee, and appeared at Mir. Buttershaws chambers punctual to the minute He was the first to arrive, and lost no time in ques- tioning his host about the mutual friend, the general.
 |" It's a very odd thing that old Bar nabas should always win" he began
 "Yes; isA't it?" said Buttershaw in- nocently. "I can't understand it at all"
 " met two men to-day who have lost money to him here" continued Mr. Punter
 "Indeed?' replied the other with puzzled air. Mir. Punter began to feel uncomfortable.
 Yes; one said he had lost to an ad- miral, and the other to a consul, and both these seemed to be exactly the same person as our friend Barnabas."
 Mir. Buttershaw burst into loud laugh ter unnecessarily loud, Mir Punter thought.
 Fact is, my dear fellow, old Barna- bas is bit touched in the upper story. Hes knocked about so much and been wounded so often that he fancies him. self all sorts of things, and humor him, He really was in the Confederate army got an awful crack on the head from a sabre, and has been a bit funny ever since, though perfectly harmless"
 By love, l don't know so much about that." said Punter ruefully.
 Well, he's had lot out of me, too" sighed Mir Buttershaw paid him an other $500 to square our accounts only this morning. But wonder where he has got to? Excuse me, and I'll just go and see if he has sent any message"
 The other guests came in one by one, and Punter relapsed into uneasy silence