St. Paul daily globe. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn.) 1884-1896, 1895-01-30
THE FATAL NUMBER.
STORY OF a MAN WHO BROKE
THE HOMIE CARLO BANK.
Daddy HIontgObcrt;s Luci1-SU-
peratitious Gamblers FIociSed
In ana Locked On.
CHAPTER

It was at Monte Carlo ono night IN
October, 1890.
The usual immigration Of foreigners
from both hemispheres who annually
flock 10 the beautiful Riviera to spend
the winter had only just begun to set
in. The Casino had been but poorly fire.
ouented during the day, and by 10
o'clock most OF the visitors who had
come up from Nice had returned there.
Those who remained were confirmed
gamblers, ''nocturnals," who can never
make UP their minds to go to bed until
the sun makes its appearance and or
binary mortals begin to think Of getting
up. \ queer, mixed lot, knowing each
other but vaguely, and treating each
other withut ceremony.
There was my friend, Achille Poivre,
Partisan journalist, the king Of
chroniquers; Lord Croydon, who had
just received his discharge from the
court of bankruptcy; Count Narni, an
italian diplomat who had been mixed
up in all the shady negotiations of his
time; enc Funker, who described him
self as a German banker; q woman,
Mile. Ponchette, cantatrice of the
Opera ComiQue, already somewhat
faded but brought into fashion again
by q scandalous case in the courts. She
was there for NaTni and everybody
knew it, but accustomed as they Wer Q
to deceit, they did not speak to each
other. The others were insignificant
individuals, shadows, the supern..-
meraries of life, with the exception Of u
red-headed hungry-looking man, whose
face | did not like.
These people We're drawn toward each
other by their common passion by tie
hankerirg to recount and listen to
gambling stories and to talk necessarily
of their, gains and losses.
Are we going to SUPP" queried Narni
of everybody in general and no one in
particular.
"Of course" said Poivre.
And we all trooped into one Of the
small dining rooms of the hotel.
"Oh, horror" suddenly calculated
Mile. Ponchette. I'VE are thirteen"'
We polied fun at her, but she refused
to sit down. Her old janitress Of a
mother had instilled her with most de-
cided views upon the question of thir-
teens and Fridays.
Out of politeness I rose as though to
withdraw.
by no meansr' exclaimed the bank
err Funker; 81 will go and fetch q four
teenth, Daddy Montgobert. He will
amuse ISL
who is this Daddy Montgobert?" 1
asked one Of my neighborS in an under
tone.
''Oh, an old chap they make use Of
an old punter," he answered, with n
shrug of his shoulders.
A moment later Daddy Montgobert
made his appearance. l Immediately
recognized that bottle-Sreen frock coat,
that little pointed, gray heard, that ivory
Uranium, those gold-rimmed spectacles
perched on that little nose, that wrink-
led, colorless, e3pressionIess face. Two
Or three years previously 1 had seen
him at Spa. At all hours he was seated
at the roulette or trente-et-quarant
tables, but | rarely saw him play.
The Wallets regarded him with dis
dain, because he never paid for his
chair, and always brought his own pins
and marker. But the cToUpiers pitied
him. At night, when he happened to
fall asleep over the game, his elbows on
the green table, to the sound CT the
sempiternal ''Rien ne va plust" aud Il
few coins rolled from his trembling
old hands, they never scraped them in
or reused him by knocking his fingers
with the rake. Sometimes, when an ex-
tTaordinary stroke Of luck would cause
an outbulst from the players, he
would wake up with a start, push his
last coin on the square and drop Off to
sleep again.
At last they would wake him up and
push him ont, dazed and staggering
Had they but allowed him to lie upon
the fatal table, to cover, with his body,
while asleep, the terrible round hole
which has, perhaps, swallowed up more
coined metal than lies in the bowels of
the ocean, nothing would have been
wanting to complete the poor old fei-
lows happiness.
I had been struck by the gambler
face, yet knew nothing about him, not
even his name; but was soon made ac-
ouainted with everything that con-
Cerned him, for when he had bowed to
the company and taken his place they
began to question him.
We'll, Daddy Montgobert, how did
you get on at roulette today?"
AS usual" he replied, with a grim
ace. Fortune is a woman which
Is saying everything. Madam will ex-
cuse me-" he added, bowling ironically
to Mile. Porchette.
Daddy Montgobert, tell these gen.
tlemen how you became a gambler;
will you?"
''Oh, it's an old story, and I think I