Hot Springs weekly star. (Hot Springs, S.D.) 1892-1917, 1892-04-15

About half past 10 next morning, u
waiter Knocked at the door of the
Conte de Parnfs bedroom at vhe
Empire Hotel.
"You scoundrel. you've walked mel"
cried the Frenchman with just indig-
nation.
sJ3eg pardon, SIR" said the man
coolly. 81 thought you must be up.
Gentleman been waiting to see you,
sir, for the last half hour"
"Walting to SET me?' Who is it?"
The waiter came into the room and
handed the Count a card on which
was printed in almost illegible old
English characters the name, ssAlfred
NJ. Faverill."
"Oh! Ask him to wait. Say I'll be
down directly; and ask him if he will
have any breakfast" said the Count.
''Faverill," continued DE Parni in his
thoughts, us the waiter left the room,
II hope he is not going to ask me to
keep back his check for a few days.
Seems rather like it, though. L
thought he looked pale and a bit
shaky when he signed it last night"
With these unpleasant prognostica-
lions in his mind, the Count hurried
over his toilet and went down stairs.
AS he opened the door of his sitting
room he called up a frank and cheer
full smile and held out his hand to
welcome his visitor.
But his hand dropped. His smile
vanished. This vas not the man he
expected to see. His visitor was a
portlv, rubicund, whlte-whiskered,
bald-head Englishman.
DE Parni knit his hrows.
III expected to see Mr.. Faverill, he
aid.
81 am Mr.. Faverill," said the
other, ''the father of the unhappy
boy you We're gambling with last
night"
The Count ignored the severe ex-
preston OIL his visitors countenance,
and SAID something polite by way of
reply. But he felt uneasy. Why had
this stiff, prosperous, well-groomed
pater familias come to see him at
that hour of the mornings: Surely
not for the purpose of reading him a
lecture on the sin of gaming?
"sWon't you take a chair?:' asked
the Count, with his most winning
smile.
But Mr.. Favcrill declined the offer.
He preferred torremain standing.
II have been told, SIR" he said alb
ruptly, ignoring the Counts title-"I
have been told that you won a large
sum of money from my son last night;
as much as $500, 1 believe"
"And what of that, sir?:" inter-
rupted the Frenchman. SHE had an
equal chance of winning. 1t might
have been l who lost the money. /
was at his club, not he at mine"
The Count spoke rapidly and more
warmly, perhaps, than the circum-
stances demanded. Mr.. Faveri.l,
with a wave of his hand, declined to
discuss the subject.
IS am aware of the circumstances
under which the money was lost" he
said i'm a dignitied manner. 81 have
no wish to enter into that. My err
rand is purely III of business. You
were paid, l believe, by a check for
sSOO?"
II was"
ga check on the London & Provin-
cial Bank"
81 believe so. Let me sce-yes."
said the Count, as he took the slip of
paper from his pocketbooll and
glanced at it.
"And the signature 1 think, is AL
fred NJ. Faverill?:"
"Alfrcd NJ. Faverill, certainly.
Your sons name, isn't it,"
81 will cash the check for you with
pleasure said Mr.. Faverill, ST.,
without answering the question.
s'You will cash 1T? Why?"
"Never mind why. / am ready to
sign a check myself for the amount"
The Count stared. Then his face
assumed an intelligent expression.
"You mean that this is not exactly
your sons name that is written
hcre?:" he asked, touching the rocket
to which he had returned the check.
"-Nevcr mind what l mean. 1t is
enough for you that I offer to take
up the check"
''Thank you: / would rather keep
it for the present, 1 believe" said
the Count, moving away in the direc-
ton of the breakfast table.
s'But don't you understand? 1t is
worthless: absolutely worthless"
cried Mr.. Favcrill, speaking very
much i'm earnest.
"Is it? 1 was told your son was a
wealthy man."
"He is indebted to me for every
penny he spends"
s'1hen do | understand it is your
name that he has written ON this lit
tie bit of paper?"
"No," answered Mr.. Faverill. "if
it had been my name, 1 could simply
have given the banker instructions to
| pay it. Inecd not have Inundated my
self by" He was silent for IL mo
ment, and then he went on. s.It is
my brothers name. My unhappy
boy is in his ottice-with a prospect
of a partnership. He did not dare to
forge my name: but his uncle's bust