Evening star., 1921-09-19

man who had done the "doctoring
Tydeman did not know that-and
shaken in his belief that there was
no squarer man on the circuit than
Bookie Skarvan. 1t had resulted in
Tydeman becoming a silent partner OF
Eookie Skarvan-and the betting fra
ternity had been not a little pleased.
the board better than even against
Bookie Skarvan's thickness.
Dave Henderson nodded his head.
1t was quite true. Martin X. Tydeman
now. but Martin X. Tydeman was
still hailed as the squarest. gamest
sporting gentleman California had
ever known-and it would be lit
tie rough on that king of sports. IT
was too bad tnat it wasn't Bookie
the ground up-and who knew it any
better than he, Dave Henderson. who
had worked for Skarvan for several
years now? But. as it was, Tydeman
would simply have to cough up a sec
ond hundred thousand out of his mill
lions, that was all No. it wasn't all.
1t depended entirely upon whether he
Dave Henderson. could get his hands on
the money without accepting it as
trust from the old millionaire.
you're a poor fool!' Dave Hender-
son informed himself. with a sharp
laugh. whats the difference? You
pinch it either way, don't you?"
He shook his head as the car tore
forward.
'Mabbe." he muttered. ''mabbe I am,
,, and mabbe there amt any difference
but there's nothing doing that way. |
got little reputation myself-left. No
guy ever put bean in my mitt that
he didn't get a square deal on. and
that's on the level---in spite of Skar-
van. Damn Skarvan. He wouldn't have
had a look-in on a two-bit bet for more
seasons than one if I hadn't been run
ming the cases for him-nobody'd have
trusted him."
Again Dave Henderson relapsed into
silence. He drove in purely mechan-
ical way His mind was ranking now
. in sort of bitter speculation over the
could remember. They We're not an al
together pleasing memory: and that
was why he wanted. and not only
wanted. but had made up his mind TO
have-one hundred thousand dollars. He
did not remember either his father or
his mother. They hadn't any money.
but he had an impression that they had
been rather decent people-only they
had died. He had been a kid when it
happened-he didn't know how old-just
kid. Some one had put him in Il
school. an orphan school. 1t had been a
hell of a place. At ten he had run
away. After that. beginning by making
himself useful around one OF the train
courses ever since-and had risen to
the heights of becoming Bookie Skar-
vans clerk!
His jaws clamped hard. 1t was a
piker life: but here was chance to
get out of it, He had been looking for
a chance-and here it was-if he could
get away with it. There had been lois
OF chances before, chances for few
thousand dollars-but the bet hadn't
been good enough. He had even a lit
hnr 4 Ill.
himself. for that matter. and it was
pulling interest, too: he had loaned il
to Square John Kelly, who ran the
Parific Coral Saloon down on the Bar
barry Coast in Frisco: And he had a
couple of hundred dollars in his pocket
now. too. for that matter. But it was
all chicken feed. He had won it, and
he might win as much more again some
time-or he might lose it. The game
where. Maybe it was the interest com
ing in on that three thousand that
showed up where the odds stood on
hundred thousand. There wasn't any
thing else involved. Was it a good
thousand would make blooming gen.
tleman of Independent means out of
him at one crack. Sure. it was worth
the risk! II he got caught. well then
good might! II he got away with it.
Yes-but how? That was the oues-
tion.
If he wouldn't go to Tydeman and let
Tydeman trustfully hand the money
over to him. how was he to get the cash
ing to accept the risk of pursuit and
capture. Given a few hours start. ne
was quite willing to pit his wits against
the machinery of the law: that was the
be very simple to let Tydeman. in Tyde-
mans own library. say. assist in pack
ing the little black handbag full of
money. and then. instead of taking the
train back to Stockton-to disappear.
The strong jaws clamped harder. But
nothing doing. Not that way. He'd go
the limit, and he meant to have that
hundred thousand, and he would have
it, and, once decided upon getting it,
he would drop in his tracks before he
would drop in his tracks. if the attempt
were successful, before he relinquished
his grip on the money-but that way
was raw. Rotten raw! To get away
with hundred thousand dollars was a
sporting proposition. gambling and a
fighting chance. but to double-cross Il
man who placed that money in ones
keeping in good faith was in Bookie
Skarvan's line-not his!
Well then-how?
The miles and the minutes and the
half-hours passed. Tight-lipped, the
clean-shaven face set and hard. the
dark eyes retrospective as they held
on the road ahead. Dave Henderson
over the wheel. Once he stopped to
replenish his supply of gasoline. and
then the car roared on again. rock
ing in its speed. He drove perilously
fast, in a sort of subconscious phys
ical synchronism with his racing
that was the stake: In another
hour or SO that hundred thousand
dollars would be his-some way.
There was no question about that!
But how? There was something IRON
ical in the fact that Tydeman was
waiting to throw it at him. and that
while he racked his mind for a method
of getting the money into his posses
sion he must also rack his mind for
method that would prevent it being
sharply.
Now wouldn't that sting you"
i mumbled Dave Henderson. Say,
wouldn't that sting you"'
son stopped the car at the side of the
road. He had it now-almost. 1t
had come. the germ of it, in a flash.
And now he wanted to think it out
without the distraction of handling
the machine. There came a smile,
laughed again. There was a picture
before his minds eye now that af-
forded him a grim sense of humor.
He could see the great bare dormi-
tory in the orphan school, a room
whose walls were decorated with
huge scrolled mottoes-and there
was the one on the end wall with
Its great red painted letters, and the
same old crack in the plaster that
zig-zagged it's way through the
/, words. Sure. he could see it! "Vir-
tue Is Its Own Reward" He had
never taken much stock. in notices,