Guy Garrick

by Arthur B. Reeve

  CHAPTER VI

  THE GAMBLING DEN

  In spite of the agitation that was going on at the time in the cityagainst gambling, we had no trouble in being admitted to the place inForty-eighth Street. They seemed to recognise Warrington, for no soonerhad the lookout at the door peered through a little grating and seenhim than the light woodwork affair was opened.

  To me, with even my slender knowledge of such matters, it had seemedrather remarkable that only such a door should guard a place that wasso notorious. Once inside, however, the reason was apparent. It didn't.On the outside there was merely such a door as not to distinguish thehouse, a three-story and basement dwelling, of old brownstone, from theothers in the street.

  As the outside door shut quickly, we found ourselves in a sort ofvestibule confronted by another door. Between the two the lookout hadhis station.

  The second door was of the "ice-box" variety, as it was popularlycalled at the time, of heavy oak, studded with ax-defying bolts, swungon delicately balanced and oiled hinges, carefully concealed, about asimpregnable as a door of steel might be.

  There were, as we found later, some steel doors inside, leading to theroof and cellar, though not so thick. The windows were carefullyguarded inside by immense steel bars. The approaches from the back werecovered with a steel network and every staircase was guarded by acollapsible door. There seemed to be no point of attack that had beenleft unguarded.

  Yet, unless one had been like ourselves looking for thesefortifications, they would not have appeared much in evidence in theface of the wealth of artistic furnishings that was lavished on everyhand. Inside the great entrance door was a sort of marble receptionhall, richly furnished, and giving anything but the impression of agambling house. As a matter of fact, the first floor was pretty much ofa blind. The gambling was all upstairs.

  We turned to a beautiful staircase of carved wood, and ascended.Everywhere were thick rugs into which the feet sank almost ankle deep.On the walls were pictures that must have cost a small fortune. Thefurniture was of the costliest; there were splendid bronzes and objectsof art on every hand.

  Gambling was going on in several rooms that we passed, but the mainroom was on the second floor, a large room reconstructed in the oldhouse, with a lofty ceiling and exquisitely carved trim. Concealed inhuge vases were the lights, a new system, then, which shed its rays inevery direction without seeming to cast a shadow anywhere. The room wasapparently windowless, and yet, though everyone was smoking furiously,the ventilation must have been perfect.

  There was, apparently, a full-fledged poolroom in one part of thehouse, closed now, of course, as the races for the day were run. But Icould imagine it doing a fine business in the afternoon. There weremany other games now in progress, games of every description, frompoker to faro, keno, klondike, and roulette. There was nothing ofeither high or low degree with which the venturesome might not beaccommodated.

  As Warrington conducted us from one room to another, Garrick noted eachcarefully. Along the middle of the large room stretched a roulettetable. We stopped to watch it.

  "Crooked as it can be," was Garrick's comment after watching it forfive minutes or so.

  He had not said it aloud, naturally, for even the crowd in eveningclothes about it, who had lost or would lose, would have resented suchan imputation.

  For the most part there was a solemn quiet about the board, broken onlyby the rattle of the ball and the click of chips. There was an absenceof the clink of gold pieces that one hears as the croupier rakes themin at the casinos on the continent. Nor did there seem to be the tensefaces that one might expect. Often there was the glint of an eye, or aquick and muffled curse, but for the most part everyone, no matter howgreat a loser, seemed respectable and prosperous. The tragedies, as wecame to know, were elsewhere.

  We sauntered into another room where they were playing keno. Keno was,we soon found, a development or an outgrowth of lotto, in which cardswere sold to the players, bearing numbers which were covered withbuttons, as in lotto. The game was won when a row was full afterdrawing forth the numbers on little balls from a "goose."

  "Like the roulette wheel," said Garrick grimly, "the 'goose' iscrooked, and if I had time I could show you how it is done."

  We passed by the hazard boards as too complicated for the limited timeat our disposal.

  It was, however, the roulette table which seemed to interest Garrickmost, partly for the reason that most of the players flocked about it.

  The crowd around the table on the second floor was several deep, now.Among those who were playing I noticed a new face. It was of a tall,young man much the worse, apparently, for the supposed good time he hadhad already. The game seemed to have sobered him up a bit, for he waskeen as to mind, now, although a trifle shaky as to legs.

  He glanced up momentarily from his close following of the play as weapproached.

  "Hello, W.," he remarked, as he caught sight of our young companion.

  A moment later he had gone back to the game as keen as ever.

  "Hello, F.," greeted Warrington. Then, aside to us, he added, "You knowthey don't use names now in gambling places if they can help it.Initials do just as well. That is Forbes, of whom I told you. He's ayoung fellow of good family--but I am afraid he is going pretty much tothe bad, or will go, if he doesn't quit soon. I wish I could stop him.He's a nice chap. I knew him well at college and we have chummed abouta great deal. He's here too much of the time for his own good."

  The thing was fascinating, I must admit, no matter what the morals ofit were. I became so engrossed that I did not notice a man standingopposite us. I was surprised when he edged over towards us slowly, thenwhispered to Garrick, "Meet me downstairs in the grill in five minutes,and have a bite to eat. I have something important to say. Only, becareful and don't get me 'in Dutch' here."

  The man had a sort of familiar look and his slang certainly reminded meof someone we had met.

  "Who was it?" I inquired under my breath, as he disappeared among theplayers.

  "Didn't you recognize him?" queried Garrick. "Why, that was Herman,Dillon's man,--the fellow, you know, who is investigating this place."

  I had not recognized the detective in evening clothes. Indeed, I feltthat unless he were known here already his disguise was perfect.

  Garrick managed to leave Warrington for a time under the pretext thathe wanted him to keep an eye on Forbes while we explored the placefurther. We walked leisurely down the handsome staircase into the grilland luncheon room downstairs.

  "Well, have you found out anything?" asked a voice behind us.

  We turned. It was Herman who had joined us. Without pausing for ananswer he added, "I suppose you are aware of the character of thisplace? It looks fine, but the games are all crooked, and I guess thereare some pretty desperate characters here, from all accounts. Ishouldn't like to fall afoul of any of them, if I were you."

  "Oh, no," replied Garrick, "it wouldn't be pleasant. But we came inwell introduced, and I don't believe anyone suspects."

  Several others, talking and laughing loudly to cover their chagrin overlosses, perhaps, entered the buffet.

  With the gratuitous promise to stand by us in trouble of any kind,Herman excused himself, and returned to watch the play about theroulette table.

  Garrick and I leisurely finished the little bite of salad we hadordered, then strolled upstairs again.

  The play was becoming more and more furious. Forbes was losing again,but was sticking to it with a grim determination that was worthy of abetter cause. Warrington had already made one attempt to get him awaybut had not succeeded.

  "Well," remarked Garrick, as we three made our way slowly to thecoatroom downstairs, "I think we have seen enough of this for to-night.It isn't so very late, after all. I wonder if it would be possible toget into that ladies' poolroom on the next street? I should like to seethat place."

  "Angus could get us in, if anyone could," replied Warringtonthoughtfully. "Wait here a minute. I'll see if I can
get him away fromthe wheel long enough."

  Five minutes later he came back, with Forbes in tow. He shook handswith us cordially, in fact a little effusively. Perhaps I might haveliked the young fellow if I could have taken him in hand for a month ortwo, and knocked some of the silly ideas he had out of his head.

  Forbes called a taxicab, a taxicab apparently being the open sesame.One might have gone afoot and have looked ever so much like a "goodthing" and he would not have been admitted. But such is the simplicityof the sophistication of the keepers of such places that a motor caropens all locks and bolts.

  It seemed to be a peculiar place and as nearly as I could make out wasin a house almost in the rear of the one we had just come from.

  We were politely admitted by a negro maid, who offered to take ourcoats.

  "No," answered Forbes, apparently with an eye to getting out as quicklyas possible, "we won't stay long tonight. I just came around tointroduce my friends to Miss Lottie. I must get back right away."

  For some reason or other he seemed very anxious to leave us. I surmisedthat the gambling fever was running high and that he had hopes of achange of luck. At any rate, he was gone, and we had obtainedadmittance to the ladies' pool room.

  We strolled into one of the rooms in which the play was on. The gamewas at its height, with huge stacks of chips upon the tables and theplayers chatting gayly. There was no large crowd there, however.Indeed, as we found afterward, it was really in the afternoon that itwas most crowded, for it was rather a poolroom than a gambling joint,although we gathered from the gossip that some stiff games of bridgewere played there. Both men and women were seated at the poker gamethat was in progress before the little green table. The women wererichly attired and looked as if they had come from good families.

  We were introduced to several, but as it was evident that they werepassing under assumed names, whatever the proprietor of the place mightknow of them, I made little effort to remember the names, although Idid study the faces carefully.

  It was not many minutes before we met Miss Lottie, as everyone calledthe woman who presided over this feminine realm of chance. Miss Lottiewas a finely gowned woman, past middle age, but remarkably wellpreserved, and with a figure that must have occasioned much thought tofashion along the lines of the present slim styles. There seemed to bea man who assisted in the conduct of the place, a heavy-set fellow witha closely curling mustache. But as he kept discreetly in the offing, wedid not see much of him.

  Miss Lottie was frankly glad to see us, coming so well introduced, andoutspokenly disappointed that we would not take a seat in the game thatwas in progress. However, Garrick passed that over by promising to comearound soon. Excise laws were apparently held in puny respect in thisluxurious atmosphere, and while the hospitable Miss Lottie went tosummon a servant to bring refreshments--at our expense--we had ampleopportunity to glance about at the large room in which we were seated.

  Garrick gazed long and curiously at an arc-light enclosed in a softglass globe in the center of the ceiling, as though it had suggested anidea of some sort to him.

  Miss Lottie, who had left us for a few moments, returned unexpectedlyto find him still gazing at it.

  "We keep that light burning all the time," she remarked, noticing hisgaze. "You see, in the daytime we never use the windows. It is alwaysjust like it is now, night or day. It makes no difference with us. Youknow, if we ever should be disturbed by the police," she rattled on,"this is my house and I am giving a little private party to a number ofmy friends."

  I had heard of such places but had never seen one before. I knew thatwell-dressed women, once having been caught in the toils of gambling,and perhaps afraid to admit their losses to their husbands, or, oftenhaving been introduced through gambling to far worse evils, were sentout from these poker rendezvous to the Broadway cafes, there to flirtwith men, and rope them into the game.

  I could not help feeling that perhaps some of the richly gowned womenin the house were in reality "cappers" for the game. As I studied thefaces, I wondered what tragedies lay back of these rouged and paintedfaces. I saw broken homes, ruined lives, even lost honor written onthem. Surely, I felt, this was a case worth taking up if by any chancewe could put a stop or even set a limitation to this nefarious traffic.

  "Have you ever had any trouble?" Garrick asked as we sipped at therefreshments.

  "Very little," replied Miss Lottie, then as if the very manner of ourintroduction had stamped us all as "good fellows" to whom she couldafford to be a little confidential in capturing our patronage, sheadded nonchalantly, "We had a sort of wild time a couple of nights ago."

  "How was that?" asked Garrick in a voice of studied politeness thatcarefully concealed the aching curiosity he had for her to talk.

  "Well," she answered slowly, "several ladies and gentlemen were here,playing a little high. They--well, they had a little too much to drink,I guess. There was one girl, who was the worst of all. She was prettyfar gone. Why, we had to put her out--carry her out to the car that shehad come in with her friend. You know we can't stand for any roughstuff like that--no sir. This house is perfectly respectable and properand our patrons understand it."

  The story, or rather, the version of it, seemed to interest Garrick, asI knew it would.

  "Who was the girl?" he asked casually. "Did you know her? Was she oneof your regular patrons?"

  "Knew her only by sight," returned Miss Lottie hastily, now a littlevexed, I imagined, at Guy's persistence, "like lots of people who areintroduced here--and come again several times."

  The woman was evidently sorry that she had mentioned the incident, andwas trying to turn the conversation to the advantages of herestablishment, not the least of which were her facilities for privategames in little rooms in various parts of the house. It seemed all veryrisque to me, although I tried to appear to think it quite the usualthing, though I was careful to say that hers was the finest of suchplaces I had ever seen. Still, the memory of Garrick's questioningseemed to linger. She had not expected, I knew, that we would take anyfurther interest in her story than to accept it as proof of how carefulshe was of her clientele.

  Garrick was quick to take the cue. He did not arouse any furthersuspicion by pursuing the subject. Apparently he was convinced that ithad been Rena Taylor of whom Miss Lottie spoke. What really happened weknew no more now than before. Perhaps Miss Lottie herself knew--or shemight not know. Garrick quite evidently was willing to let futuredevelopments in the case show what had really happened. There wasnothing to be gained by forcing things at this stage of the game,either in the gambling den around the corner or here.

  We chatted along for several minutes longer on inconsequentialsubjects, treating as important those trivialities which Bohemiaconsiders important and scoffing at the really good and true things oflife that the demi-monde despises. It was all banality now, for we hadtouched upon the real question in our minds and had bounded as lightlyoff it as a toy balloon bounds off an opposing surface.

  Warrington had kept silent during the visit, I noticed, and seemedrelieved when it was over. I could not imagine that he was known hereinasmuch as they treated him quite as they treated us.

  Apparently, though, he had no relish for a possible report of theexcursion to get to Miss Winslow's ears. He was the first to leave, asGarrick, after paying for our refreshments and making a neat remark ortwo about the tasteful way in which the gambling room was furnished,rescued our hats and coats from the negro servant, and said good-nightwith a promise to drop in again.

  "What would Mrs. de Lancey think of THAT?" Garrick could not helpsaying, as we reached the street.

  Warrington gave a nervous little forced laugh, not at all such as hemight have given had Mrs. de Lancey not been the aunt of the girl whohad entered his life.

  Then he caught himself and said hastily, "I don't care what she thinks.It's none of her---"

  He cut the words short, as if fearing to be misinterpreted either way.

  For several squares he plodded
along silently, then, as we hadaccomplished the object of the evening, excused himself, with therequest that we keep him fully informed of every incident in the case.

  "Warrington doesn't wear his heart on his sleeve," commented Garrick aswe bent our steps to our own, or rather his, apartment, "but it isevident enough that he is thinking all the time of Violet Winslow."