Montana oil and mining journal. [volume] (Great Falls, Mont.) 1931-1953, 1937-10-02
All Corae :. Back ;, 4:
BY EDWARD l. McKENNA
GAMBLERS HIM
CHANGES A GENTLEMAN
BEGGAR'S LUCK

learn In New York, one Starve.
quite slowly, and there arr
pleasant interludes. Even the cops an
kind and frequently they'll feed a MAJ
whose feet they've all but broken.
London's not half bad, either. There's
always the Salvation Army. There:
Picadilly and the park, and the girl.
who walk there in the nights, the girl.
who are not so young or pretty, anc
who treat other untortunateS witt
rough gentleness.
AS for Paris, well, Of course Pari;
is such an old city, and old cities are
gay only to tourists and to brides. Still
on the other hand, there are schoo
teachers from Omaha or Des Molnes
and little girls who come to study
dress design, and budding architects
who are generous enough, and all the
more so after they've had a shot OF
/ two of Armagnac or Pernod.
And then-and then, there is Is
! tanbul Constantinople, the city that
was coveted by Christian nations fol-
| a thousand yearS-why, nobody knows
That's a fine old city, 1Stanbul
! People have been starving to death in
! IStanbul since Julius Caesar was in
rompers 1t causes no comment what
ever, not even shrug, not lifted
eyebrow.
There is work to be had, surely, fine,
honest, hard, manual work. There are
also terrible Turks from Anatolia who
are looking for jobs, and they'll carry
300-pound sacks Of coal for 10 hours
for 10 cents, and less, and glad to get
it.
Thieving, of course, is possible, but
here the competition is terrific. Steal
ing in a small way is practiced on a
large scale. 1t is on record that In a
section Of old Constantinople called
Galata, a Rumanian killed an inn
keeper for the sake of two torn pillow
slips and handful Of dirty towels.
In the summer of 1920, Captain Boris
Denskoi found himself stranded in Is
A tan, slim, black-eyed fellow, this
Boris was, naughty, hot tempered
moody. impulsive and brave. He had
never worked in his life; he'd gone to
school and finished in army camps.
He could ride, he could carry himself
well, he could lead men into battle,
and he could gamble with an appear
ance of unconcern. He'd won three
steeplechases and ridden in so; he had
a good eve for a horse, and a fair
working knowledge Of the odds at BAG
carat, roulette, and chemin-de-fer.
Four languages he spoke with some
fluency, his people having intended
him for the diplomatic service, and,
being a Russian, he had the gift OF
His manners were distinguished, his
ways graceful, and he had good taste
in tailors, in restaurants, in friends,
and in women. In the summer OF 1920
he was not yet % years old.
What could he do with such talents
as were his? What could any OF those
young officers do? What commercial
fields were open to themP
Duvic hn had
been in Nice, he'd been in Salonica,
bewildered, confused, trying TO keep
his poise and his good manners and
to find a place for himself In the
world. His friend at Salonica had be-
come a 'rabateur;;" q tout for gam
bling house. That wasn't pleasant.
Still. Boris was glad to take letter
of introduction to q Maj. Thomas Ives
Carpenter at Istanbul, and to borrow
the few dollars to take him there from
Greece.
At the wharf. he picked up a cab
and was driven to the hotel Superbe,
in Pera, a quarter frequented by
wealthy Europeans and by europeans
who are trying to impress. His baggage
was light, but once it had been smart
his clothes were the last remnants OF
his prosperous days.
Next morning he went to call upon
Mai. Ives Carpenter. The OFFICES OF
the Royal Imperial Development Co,
were new and glittering. There he
learned, unfortunately, that Jne major
was out of town and wouldn't be back
for a few days. Young Captain Boris
bit his lip, and nodded, and departed,
swinging his stick in a military man
ner. at least until he got out into the
hot streets of IStanbul.
A few days few days Thereu |
be the hotel bill. How many days were
a few days2 Well, he could pawn his
clothes, the few clothes that still re- /
manned No, that ne couionS az;
They'd never let him leave the hotel
Monsieur Anton Bechtel. the man
ager Of the Hotel Superbe, settled all
Seated in the lounge, Boris had just
babe a pageboy bring him glass OF /
water. There is a Turkish proVerD: |
who drinks the water Of Beykos shall
return to STEAMBOAT" AS Tor BORIS ne q |
TIM is supposed to sharpen the ap-
Instead of the page with the glass
of water. Monsieur Bechtel appeared. |
Boris looked up with a froWn, ana !
being invited, he followed the hotel |
manager into private offlce, MS oroW
Bechtel wanted some money, and he
wanted it quick. NJ
aBring me the bill" said Boris "At
oncel Immediately"
The manager was for changing ms
tune a little, at first, but Boris was
like ice.
And then-and then, to his dismay,
he didn't have quite enough to pay the
Dill. There we're, so it appeared, good
many extras at the Hotel SuperDe,
cover charges and service charges.
Manager Bechtel smiled and sneereo,
and that was a mistake, for Boris
slapped his face, which wasn't SO SEN
sibie either. There was a dreadful COM
notion. and in less than two minutes,
three rough and stalwart flunk1eS
lHT A CKETEnI