The Silent Barrier Part 13

"She has read Mackenzie's letter," thought Spencer, taking refuge behind a cloud of smoke. "It will be bad behavior on my part to leave the hotel without making my bow. Shall I go to her now, or wait till morning?"

He reflected that Helen might be out early next day. If he presented his introduction at once, she would probably ask him to sit with her a little while, and then he must become acquainted with Bower. He disliked the notion; but he saw no way out of it, unless indeed Helen treated him with the chilling abruptness she meted out to other men in the hotel who tried to become friendly with her. He was weighing the pros and cons dispa.s.sionately, when the English chaplain approached.

"Do you play bridge, Mr. Spencer?" he asked.

"I know the leads, and call 'without' on the least provocation," was the reply.

"You are the very man I am searching for, and I have the authority of the First Book of Samuel in my quest."

"Well, now, that is the last place in which I should expect to find my bridge portrait."

"Don't you remember how Saul's servants asked his permission to 'seek out a man who is a cunning player'? That is exactly what I am doing.

Come to the smoking room. There are two other men there, and one is a fellow countryman of yours."

The Rev. Mr. Hare was a genial soul, a Somersetshire vicar who took his annual holiday by accepting a temporary position in some Alpine village where there was an English church. He did not dream that he was acting the part of Hermes, messenger of the G.o.ds, at that moment, for indeed his appearance on the scene just then changed the whole trend of Spencer's actions.

"What a delightful place this is!" he went on as they walked together through a long corridor. "But what is the matter with the people? They don't mix. I would not have believed that there were so many prigs in the British Isles."

Some such candid opinion had occurred to Spencer; but, being an American, he thought that perhaps he might be mistaken. "The English character is somewhat adaptable to environment, I have heard. That is why you send out such excellent colonists," he said.

"Doesn't that go rather to prove that everybody here should be hail fellow well met?"

"Not at all. They take their pose from the Alps,--snow, glaciers, hard rock, you know,--that is the subtlety of it."

The vicar laughed. "You have given me a new point of view," he said.

"Some of them are slippery customers too. Yes, one might carry the parallel a long way. But here we are. Now, mind you cut me as a partner. I have tried the others, and found them severely critical--as bridge players. You look a stoic."

The vicar had his wish. Spencer and he opposed a man from Pittsburg, named Holt, and Dunston, an Englishman.

While the latter was shuffling the cards for Hare's deal he said something that took one, at least, of his hearers by surprise. "Bower has turned up, I see. What has brought him to the Engadine at this time of year I can't guess, unless perhaps he is interested in a pretty face."

"At this time of the year," repeated Spencer. "Isn't this the season?"

"Not for him. He used to be a famous climber; but he has given it up since he waxed fat and prosperous. I have met him once or twice at St. Moritz in the winter. Otherwise, he usually shows up in the fashionable resorts in August,--Ostend, or Trouville, or, if he is livery, Vichy or Aix-les-Bains,--anywhere but this quiet spot.

Bower likes excitement too. He often opens a thousand pound bank at baccarat, whereas people are shocked in Maloja at seeing Hare play bridge at tenpence a hundred."

"I leave it, partner," broke in the vicar, to whom the game was the thing.

"No trumps," said Spencer, without giving the least heed to his cards.

It was true his eyes were resting on the ace, king, and queen of spades; but his mind was tortured by the belief that by his fantastic conceit in sending Helen to this Alpine fastness he had delivered her bound to the vultures.

"Double no trumps," said Dunston, gloating over the possession of a long suit of hearts and three aces. Hare looked anxious, and Spencer suddenly awoke to the situation.

"Satisfied," he said.

Holt led the three of hearts, and Spencer spread his cards on the table with the gravity of a Sioux chief. In addition to the three high spades he held six others.

"Really!" gasped the parson, "a most remarkable declaration!"

Yet there was an agitated triumph in his voice that was not pleasant hearing for Dunston, who took the trick with the ace of hearts and led the lowest of a sequence to the queen.

"Got him!" panted Hare, producing the king.

The rest was easy. The vicar played a small spade and scored ninety-six points without any further risk.

"It is magnificent; but it is not bridge," said the man from Pittsburg. Dunston simply glowered.

"Partner," demanded Hare timidly, "may I ask why you called 'no trumps' on a hand like that?"

"Thought I would give you a chance of distinguishing yourself,"

replied Spencer. "Besides, that sort of thing rattles your opponents at the beginning of a game. Keep your nerve now, _padre_, and you have 'em in a cleft stick."

As it happened, Holt made a "no trump" declaration on a very strong hand; but Spencer held seven clubs headed by the ace and king.

He doubled. Holt redoubled. Spencer doubled again.

Hare flushed somewhat. "Allow me to say that I am very fond of bridge; but I cannot take part in a game that savors of gambling, even for low stakes," he broke in.

"Shall we let her go at forty-eight points a trick?" Spencer asked.

"Yep!" snapped Holt. "Got all the clubs?"

"Not all--sufficient, perhaps."

He played the ace. Dunston laid the queen and knave on the table.

Spencer scored the winning trick before his adversary obtained an opening.

"You have a backbone of cast steel," commented Dunston, who was an iron-master. "Do you play baccarat?" he went on, with curious eagerness.

"I regret to state that my education was completed in a Western mining camp."

"Will you excuse the liberty, and perhaps Mr. Hare won't listen for a moment?--but I will finance you in three banks of a thousand each, either banking or punting, if you promise to take on Bower. I can arrange it easily. I say this because you personally may not care to play for high sums."

The suggestion was astounding, coming as it did from a stranger; but Spencer merely said:

"You don't like Bower, then?"

"That is so. I have business relations with him occasionally, and there he is all that could be wished. But I have seen him clean out more than one youngster ruthlessly,--force the play to too high stakes, I mean. I think you could take his measure. Anyhow, I am prepared to back you."

"I'm leaving here to-morrow."

"Ah, well, we may have another opportunity. If so, my offer holds."

"Guess you haven't heard that Spencer is the man who bored a tunnel through the Rocky Mountains?" said Holt.

"No. You must tell me about it. Sorry, Mr. Hare, I am stopping the game."

Spencer continued to have amazing good fortune, and he played with skill, but without any more fireworks. At the close of the sitting the vicar said cheerfully: