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Updated: June 8, 2025
Entrefort asked him, quickly. "I did for a moment." Entrefort shot a quick look at Dr. Rowell and whispered, "Then it is not suicide." Dr. Rowell looked puzzled and said nothing. "I must disagree with you, gentlemen," quietly remarked Entrefort; "this is not a knife." He examined the handle very narrowly.
"It isn't my practice," said Rowell slowly, "to play with a man unless he has the money in sight. I've made an exception in your case, as luck was against you, but I think this has gone far enough. You may bring me the $1,000 you owe any day next week. No particular hurry, you know." The young fellow appeared to be dazed.
The young man took a step forward, but Pony stood his ground, using the interval to light another cigarette. "I will also venture an opinion, Mr. Rowell, and say that the money came as honestly into my pocket as it did into yours." "That wouldn't be saying much for it. I have the advantage of you, however, because the nine points are in my favor. I have possession."
One morning, toward the end of November, my servant awoke me and announced that Sir John Rowell had been murdered during the night. "Half an hour later I entered the Englishman's house, together with the police commissioner and the captain of the gendarmes. The servant, bewildered and in despair, was crying before the door. At first I suspected this man, but he was innocent.
Rowell stood alone in the dimly-lighted silent street and poured unuttered maledictions on his own stupidity. Suddenly a voice rang out from a dark doorway. "What the devil are you following me for?" "Oh, you're there, are you?" said Pony calmly. "I'm here. Now what do you want of me? Aren't you satisfied with what you have done to-night?"
He called himself Sir John Rowell. "I therefore had to be satisfied with watching him as closely as I could, but I could see nothing suspicious about his actions. "However, as rumors about him were growing and becoming more widespread, I decided to try to see this stranger myself, and I began to hunt regularly in the neighborhood of his grounds.
Couldn't you mark a pack of cards and get him to play high? Then, when you have taken all his ready money and landed him in debt to you so that he can't move, give him back his cash if he promises not to gamble again." Rowell looked across at the subject of their conversation. "I don't think I would flatter him so much as to even stock the cards on him. I'll clean him out if you like.
He called himself Sir John Rowell. "I therefore had to be satisfied with watching him as closely as I could, but I could see nothing suspicious about his actions. "However, as rumors about him were growing and becoming more widespread, I decided to try to see this stranger myself, and I began to hunt regularly in the neighborhood of his grounds.
Of course, Mellish's gambling rooms were as well known to the police as to Pony Rowell, but unless some fuss was made by the public, Mellish knew he would be free from molestation. Mellish was a careful man, and a visitor had to be well vouched for, before he gained admission. There never was any trouble in Mellish's rooms.
Judith wore but one spur and this had a broken rowell, but she kicked Swift with it and Swift whirled against the nervous Buster and bit him on the cheek. Buster reared. "Take that back, you dogy cowboy you!" shrieked Judith. Douglas brought Buster round and raised his hand to strike the girl. She eyed him fearlessly.
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