CHAPTER VI

DAVE RUNS INTO A REAL THRILL

"I do not understand," murmured the Countess.

"I know that the European idea of gambling is very different from that entertained by most people in my country," Dan went on pleasantly. "To the greater number of Americans, gambling is a method of getting other people's money away from them without working for it."

"And that is why you term it dishonest?" asked the Countess.

"Yes," replied Dan frankly. "And, in addition, it is a wicked waste of time that could be put to so many good uses."

Countess Ripoli shrugged her fine shoulders, and looked up once more at the young officer. But Dan was smiling back coolly at her.

"You have not a flattering idea of the Europeans?" she asked.

"Quite to the contrary," Dan a.s.sured her.

"Yet you think we are both weak and dishonest, because we use our time to poor advantage and because so many of us find Monte Carlo delightful?" she pressed him.

"Not all Europeans frequent Monte Carlo," Dalzell answered.

"May I ask my new American friend why _he_ should waste his time here?" laughed the Countess.

"I do not believe I have exactly wasted my time," Dan replied. "A naval officer, or any other American, may well spend some of his time here in gaining a better knowledge of human nature. Surely, there is much of human nature to be seen here, even though it be not one of the better sides."

"What is the bad trait, or the vice, that one beholds most at Monte Carlo?" the Countess asked.

"Greed," Dan rejoined promptly.

"And dishonesty?"

"Much of that vice, no doubt," Dan continued. "To-night there must be many a man here who is throwing away money that his family needs, yet he will never tell his wife that he lost his money over a table at Monte Carlo. Again, there must be many a woman here throwing away money in large sums, and she, very likely, will never tell her husband the truth. Let us say that, in both s.e.xes, there are a hundred persons here to-night who will be dishonest toward their life partners afterward. And then, perhaps, many a young bachelor, who, betrothed to some good woman, is learning his first lessons in greed and deceit.

And some young girls, too, who are perhaps learning the wrong lessons in life. I know of one very young man here who tried to blow out his brains to-night. For the sake of a few hours, or perhaps a few weeks, over the gaming tables of Monte Carlo, he had thrown away everything that made life worth living. Any man who gambles bids good-by to the finer things of life."

Dan's slow, halting French made the Countess listen very attentively, that she might understand just what he said. She puckered her brow thoughtfully, then suddenly glanced up, laughing with all the witchery at her command.

"Then, my dear American," she said insinuatingly, "I fear that you are going to refuse me a very great favor."

"I hope not," Dan replied, gallantly.

"There is," pursued the Countess, "such a thing as luck. Often a prophecy of that luck is to be seen in one's face. I see such luck written in your face now. Since you will not play for yourself, I had hoped that you would be willing to let me have the benefit of a little of the luck that is so plainly written on your face. I had hoped, up to this instant, that you would consent to play as my proxy."

The Countess was looking at him in a way that would have melted many a man into agreeing to her wishes, but Dan answered promptly:

"I regret, Countess, to be compelled to refuse your request, but I would not play for myself, nor for anyone else."

"If you so detest Monte Carlo and its pursuits," replied the Countess with a pout, "I cannot understand why you are here."

"There was something useful to be gained from witnessing the sights here, but I have seen as much as I wish," Dalzell went on, "and now I am ready to leave. I am returning to my ship as soon as Darrin is ready to go."

"And he, also, is tired of Monte Carlo?" asked Countess Ripoli.

"Darrin's views are much the same as my own," Dan responded quietly.

Countess Ripoli bit her lip, then surveyed Dalzell with a sidelong look which she did not believe he saw, but Dan, trained in habits of observation, had missed nothing.

"Will you take me back to the tables?" asked the Countess suddenly.

"With pleasure," bowed Dan.

Lightly resting a hand on his arm the Countess guided Dalzell rather than walked with him. Back into the largest salon they moved.

Dan's eye roved about in search of Darrin, but that young ensign was not in sight.

At that very moment, in fact, Dave Darrin was very much concerned in a matter upon which he had stumbled.

A few moments before his quick eye had espied Emil Gortchky crossing the room at a distance. Gortchky paused barely more than a few seconds to say a few words to a white-bearded, rather distinguished-looking foreigner. The older man returned Gortchky's look, then smiled slightly and moved on.

It was a trivial incident, but it was sufficient to set Dave's mind to working swiftly, on account of what he already knew about Mr. Green Hat.

For a few moments longer Ensign Darrin stood where he was; then, tiring of the scene, and wondering what had become of Danny Grin, he moved out upon one of the verandas, strolling slowly along. Reaching a darker part of the veranda, where a clump of small potted trees formed a toy grove, Dave paused, looking past the trees out upon the vague glimpses to be had of the Mediterranean by night.

There, in the near distance, gleamed the lights of the "Hudson."

Darrin's face glowed with pride in the ship and in the Nation that stood behind her.

Almost unconsciously he stepped inside the little grove. For a few minutes longer his gaze rested on the sea. Then, hearing voices faintly, he turned to see if Dalzell were approaching.

Instead, it was the white-bearded foreigner, the murmur of whose voice had reached him. With him was another man, younger, black-haired, and with a face that somehow made the beholder think of an eagle.

The two men were engaged in close, low-voiced conversation.

"I'd better step into view," reflected Darrin, "so that they may not talk of private matters in my hearing."

Just then a chuckle escaped the younger of the pair, and with it Dave distinguished the word, "American."

It was the sneering intonation given the word that made Dave Darrin start slightly.

"Those men are discussing my country," muttered the young ensign, swiftly, "and one of them at least is well acquainted with that spy, Gortchky. Perhaps I shall do better to remain where I am."

Nor had Dave long to deliberate on this point, for the pair now neared the grove. They were speaking French, and in undertones, but Dave's ear was quick for that tongue, and he caught the words:

"England's friendship is important to America at the present moment, and it is very freely given, too. The English believe in their Yankee cousins."