Mountain advocate., 1916-04-14
po,1r was ma trolvIsdrs a. ParIs,

mlration, the simplicity with which
that affair at rAbbaye had been man.
aged, finding no Just cause to suspect
anyone there IF criminal completely In
the plans Of the Pack-a forged order
for a table to the maitre d'hotel, ten
francs to the carriage porter, and twen-
~ more to the dancing woman to play
their parts In a putative practical joke
and the thing was arranged without
duplicating a soul!
or a sudden, ending ride much
shorter than he would have liked, the
limousine swerved In toward a curb.
Bending forward, Lanyard unlatched
the door and glancing through the
window, uttered q grunt Of profound
disgust.
II this were the best that Pack could
do
He had hoped for something a trihe
more romantic from men with wit and
imagination enough to plot the earlier
phases of this adventure.
The car was pulling up in front OF
an institution which he knew we'll, far
too well, indeed, for his own good.
None the less he consented to get
out.
Sure you've come to the right ad-
dress?" he asked the chauffeur.
Two fingers touching the vizor Of his
cap: But certainly, monsieur!"
oh, all right" Lanyard grumbled
resignedly, and tossing a five-franc
piece, addressed himself to the en-
trance of an outwardly commonplace
and respectable hotel particulier stu.
ate in the Rue Chaptal between the
impasse Of the Grand Guignol and the
Rue Pigalle.
Now the neophyte needs the intro
duction of trusted sponsor before he
can win admission to the clubhouse in
the Rue Chaptal of the exclusive Cir
Gle of Friends of Humanity; but Ian.
yards knock secured him prompt and
unquestioned entrance. The unfor-
tunate fact is he was member in the
best Of standing, for this society Of
pseudo-altruistic aims was nothing
more nor less than one Of these sew
eral private gambling clubs of Paris
which the French government toll
crates more or less openly, despite
adequate restrictive legislation; and
gambling was Lanyard's ruling pas
sion--a legacy from Bourke together
with the rest Of his professional equip
ment.
To every man his vice-the argu-
ment is Bourkes, in defense of his
failing-and perhaps the least mis-.
chievous vice q professional cracks
man can indulge is that of gambling,
since it can hardly drive him to
lengths more desperate than those
whereby he gains his daily livelihood.
In the esteem of Paris Count Remy
de Morbihan himself was scarcely a
more light-hearted plunger than NJ.
Lanyard.
Naturally, with this reputation, he
was always free OF the handsome sa-
Ions wherein the Friends of Humanity
devoted themselves to roulette, auc-
ton t~''-o, bcccarat, and chemin de
fer-and of this freedom he now pro-
ceeded to avail himself, with his hat
Just q shade aslant on his head, his
hands in his pockets, a suspicion Of a
smile on his lips, and CLINT of the
devil in his eyes-in all an expression
accurately rejecting the latest phase
of his humor, which had become large
ly one of contemptuous federation,
thanks to what he chose to consider
an exhibition of insipid stupidity on
the part of the Pack.
Nor was this humof in any way
modified when, in due course, he con-
firmed anticipation by discovering NJ.
le Comte Remy de Morbihan lpunging
beside one Of the roulette tables,
watching the play and now and then
risking a maximum or two on his own
account.
A fash of animation crossed the un-
lovely mask of the count when he saw
Lanyard approaching, and he greeted
the adventurer with gay little fiirt Of
his pudgy, dark hand.
"Ah, my friend!" he cried. 1T is
you, then, who have changed your
mind! But this is delightful"
"And what has become of your
American friends" asked the adven.
turer.
HE tired quickly, that one, and
packed himself off to Troyon's. Be
sure didn't press him to continue the
grand tour!"
Then you really wanted to see me
tonight?" Lanyard inquired innocently.
"Always-always, my dear Lam
yard!" the count declared, jumping up.
But come" he insisted, Il have q