The Columbian. [volume] (Bloomsburg, Pa.) 1866-1910, 1907-02-21
THE
SURVIVAL OF THE
ETTEST.

and pushed back his chair with a
jerk.
What internal luckl About
enough for me for one night" he ex-
claimed
There are times when the cards
won't come to one-not II one sits
1t out till the milk comes round"
said Ashby. as he slipped a handful
of gold into his pocket.
Mellor shrugged his shoulders,
Cards? There are times when moth
Ing on earth comes right" The 9TH
ers caught the bitter tone, and won
dered. Mellor took out his fountain
pen and signed couple OF checks
for large amounts. He pushed these
across the table to Ashby and Hayes,
and with curt goodnight, walked
out of the cardroom.
I'm sorry for him--he Is a de-
cent enough chap, but no head for
fnance-utterly untitled for COM
pany promoting" said Hayes, irrev-
antly, as he puffed at freshly light
ed cigar.
a quiet looking man named Dem
niford dabbled nervously with the
end of his cigarette in the ash tray
before him. 1T seemed to me-it's
hateful word to use in connection
with fellow member-but be-
lieve Mellor cheated once tonight.
He appeared to manipulate the ace
of diamonds the last hand but one.
Am | wrong in speaking from mere
suspicion?"
Ashby Strengthened himself in his
chair. Il, for one, am glad that you
spoke. Denniford," he said firmly. "I
saw what you saw. was bit
doubtful at the time, but you con-
firm my belief. | have a strong idea
that things have been going badly
with Mellor Of late. There's a whls-
per abroad about that Anglo-Cana-
dian Produce Company of his"
whats to be done?" asked
Hayes.
Keep 1t to ourselves for the pres-
ent," advised Ashby. "I'll see him
before any steps are taken"
Meanwhile Melior had left thu
club and was walking slowly down
Piccadilly. His pet scheme-one of
the biggest frauds ever foisted on al
imbecile public-had failed. Mellor
was ruined. Scruples had never been
a factor in his life. Otherwise ha
would not that night have put his
name to what he well knew were
two worthless pieces of paper. But
the end of all things had come for
Mellor, and so what were a couple Of
dishonored checks, more or less? Be
fore they could be presented he
would be beyond the ken of man.
Having reached his rooms, he
carefully examined a revolver and
slipped in a couple of cartridges.
Then he put 1t in his pocket and
stepped into the street again. lie
had q desire to see the streets once
more; to hear for the last time the
subdued night roar of London, and
there was always a chance that he
might alight on some stroke of
luck.
II was close on midnight when
Mellor turned into Berkeley square
and strolled once more in the direc-
ton of Piccadilly. A lighted side
window in the otherwise dark house
caught his attention. 1t was Ashby's
house, and the window was that of
the owners study. A mans shadow
was thrown for an instant on the
blind, and Mellor stopped. He knew
Ashby's habits-knew that he rarely
left that particular club before half
past one, and, besides, he had left
him at the card table. Moreover,
Ashby was of slender build, and so
were Ashby's valet and butler, and
the shadow on the blind was that Of
man of burly proportions.
What does 1t matter? What does
anything matter?" reflected Mellor
as he moved on. But he turned
back. At the bottom of the window,
where the blind had not been pulled
quite down, he peered in. A man vas
bending over table by the side OF
an open safe. On the table was a
tray of uncut diamonds. And the
mans dress showed him to be Il col
lector of jewels-other peoples.
Mellor's first thoughts were of po-
lice, He backed stealthily from the
window and ran down the square.
Suddenly he stopped, hesitated,
looked at his watch. laughed softly
to himself, and hurried back to the
house. At the rear the door was un-
fastened-the lock had been picked.
When he had found his way to Ash
by's study he opened the door with
a swift and almost noiseless move
ment, and the next instant his hand
went to his hip pocket.
Good evening-or, rather, good
morning" he said suavely.
The burglar had his back turned
toward the door. and he spun around
on his heel, dropping heavy gem
with a tinkle on to the table.
Trapped" he muttered.
Looks remarkably like it, my
friend. doesn't it?" Mellor swung
the cleaning barrel up on level