Reporter and farmer. [volume] (Webster, Day County, Dakota [S.D.]) 188?-1946, 1886-07-29
know x1.os ', even g the names !, OF those with

:. "Well, Pm sure that none OF US are
likely to shoot ourselves said Mr..
Punter; so you had better Join us for
once, General. You can stake as low
as youlike.
"No, MY dear sir, really cannot:
on"
"Mr. Buttershaw shrugged his
shoulders, indicating that further ar
gument was hopeless, and the game
proceeded. The General watched it
with much interest, frequently signing
and lifting his eyebrows in mute pro-
tests as the stakes grew higher. The
result was much the same as usual,
Buttershaw being the principal loser
to the tune OF about 9150. The GER
eral sympathized with his friend alter
a somewhat curious fashion.
Its just as well that you should
lose, my dear boy; you have plenty to
spare, and don't ike to see you win
rom your guests"
You needn't be nervous, general,
said Mr.. Buttershaw, grimly; '.its
about nine months since / won half
penny"
Rum old fish, that" said Sir Hec-
tor as he and Mr.. Punter walked
home in the early morning. ut would
be rare sport to get him to play"
"Oh, we'll do it some ofthese nights,
never fear. Buttershaw gave me hint
not to brighten hum at first. But what
an old innocent he is.
Mr.. Punter's prophecy came true
not very long afterward. The same
company assembled in Mr.. Butter
shaw's rooms, and owing either to the
excellence of the liquor provided by
his host, or to the persuasive tongue
OF Mr.. Punter the general gave way
and consented to join in a game Just
to amuse the company. The compa-
ny however, were not quite so much
amused as they had expected, for the
worthy old man carried everything be-
fore him, and the more he won the
apologize and deprecatory he became.
81 was right, " he earnestly protested;
Il am fated to win. Gentlemen, don't
you think had better stop? | would
much rather put the money! fear it
Is nearly fifty pounds-in the pool and
leave you to play for it,"
OF course nobody would agree to so
absurd a proposition and the General
continued TO play, winning with extra
ordinary steadiness, but lamenting the
while over his abnormal luck.
At the end OF the evening he had won
nearly FL 900, and sat at the table
with a huge pile Of notes, gold and | o
US IN front of him, looking the very
picture of despair.
Cheer up, General" said the duke;
''we'll get it all back another night,
never fear
"Tm afraid not, 'groaned the ancient
warrior. Il wish | had never begun
this. ought to have known how it
would end. J"
Blessed if | ever saw a man make
as much fuss over losing as old Barna-
bas does over winning, said Sir Hec-
tor to his friend in private, al wonder
if he would lend me bit, il he's SO
precious shy about keeping it?"
Weeks passed by, and the general
made several gallant efforts to lose
the money he had won. but without
success. In fact the more he played
the more he won and the punters of
the Greville club had excellent reason
to regret that they had conquered his
virtuous resolutions. Even Butter
shaw groaned in spirit, and expressed
frequent wishes that old Barnabas
he'd not taken it into his head to
make a pilgrimage to London.
Before the old man came, he would
lament, ait was bad enough. / used
to lose hundred or so a night, but
now, assure you, I've lost over s1,-
500 to him within the last fortnight.
Why, he must lave won thousands
He had, indeed; and from all APP
pearances the discomiitted gamblers
fully expected that he would win
thousands more Now, Mr.. Butter
shaw belonged to several clubs in adj
dition to the Greville, for his aristo-
cratic friends were powerfu! enough to
insure his admission to many similar
institutions, and. of course, he oc-
played at them, and asked
their members to dine at his cham
bers.
One fine day Mr.. Punter CHANGED to
be walking somewhat moodily down
st. James street, when he was ac-
costed by friend whom he had not
seen for some weeks, and who hap
pened to be member OF a club called
situated within the imme-
date neighborhood.
"Come into the pothouse and have
a drink" said Puiter' friend, and Mr..
Punter assented.
Anything been going on here lately
in the card line?' inquired the latter
gentleman.
mot much here, but we've played
once or twice in Buttershaw's rooms,
and there's an old chap, pal OF his,
who wins like the very devil"
Really"
ayes; he's an admiral something
sounded like Burnaby, but 1t wasn't.
White-haired old chap-wears specta-
cles."
GaYou don't say so?" said Mr. Pun
ter, feeling a very singular sensation.
why? What do you mean?"
Nothing nothing I'll another
split, please"
Mr.. Plinter left the Parthian, medi-
tating much more gloomily than be
lore. oH DiS way W tilC pICNAiO uC
met another friend.
"Hullol" said the new conner. "You
look previously solemn. Been losing
.Yes; confound it," replied Punter
Flows luck with you?"
mighty bad. Nearly broke. Met
chap in Buttershaw's rooms who
cleaned the whole lot OF us out.
Mr.. Punter grasped at lamp-post
for support. "What was his name?"
he ieebly gasped.
"Barrabas, or something like it.
Ought to be Judas Iscariot! An old
sinner! Says he's been Peruvian con-
sui at Odessa; don't believe there's
any Peruvian consul in Odessa, but
I'm going TO a chap in the foreign of
flee who can find out. Ta.ta; look
mighty bad; take care OF your self. !"
Mr.. Punter, in fact. felt very bad in
deed. Was it possible that, after all
his vast experience, he had been sharp
ed and swindled like q guileless school
boy? The very idea was torture, and
he rushed on toward Greville; but be-
fore he arrived there he remember
ed that Buttershaw had invited
him to dinner that very evening,
and he determined to do moth
ing rash. He would consult the duke,
Sir Hector and the rest, and warn
Buttershaw that ne had been cherish
ing viper. But perhaps Buttershaw
was in the plot himself, and Mr.. Punt
er's very brain began to reel with per-
There was no one particular
in the club, so he spent the afternoon
in fever of impatience and appeared
at Mr.. Buttershaw's chambers punct-
ual to the minute. He was the first to
arrive and lost no time in questioning
his host about their mutualfriend, the
Genesal.
"It's very odd thing that old Bar
nabas should always win," he began.
Eyes; isn't it?" said Buttershaw, in
noaantlv al can't understand il at