The Stake

by H.H. Munro (SAKI)

　　

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"Ronnie is a great trial to me," said Mrs. Attrayplaintively. "Only eighteen years old last February andalready a confirmed gambler. I am sure I don't knowwhere he inherits it from; his father never touchedcards, and you know how little I play - a game of bridgeon Wednesday afternoons in the winter, for three-pence ahundred, and even that I shouldn't do if it wasn't thatEdith always wants a fourth and would be certain to askthat detestable Jenkinham woman if she couldn't get me.I would much rather sit and talk any day than playbridge; cards are such a waste of time, I think. But asto Ronnie, bridge and baccarat and poker-patience arepositively all that he thinks about. Of course I've donemy best to stop it; I've asked the Norridrums not to lethim play cards when he's over there, but you might aswell ask the Atlantic Ocean to keep quiet for a crossingas expect them to bother about a mother's naturalanxieties.""Why do you let him go there?" asked EleanorSaxelby."My dear," said Mrs. Attray, "I don't want to offendthem. After all, they are my landlords and I have to lookto them for anything I want done about the place; theywere very accommodating about the new roof for the orchidhouse. And they lend me one of their cars when mine isout of order; you know how often it gets out of order.""I don't know how often," said Eleanor, "but it musthappen very frequently. Whenever I want you to take meanywhere in your car I am always told that there issomething wrong with it, or else that the chauffeur hasgot neuralgia and you don't like to ask him to go out.""He suffers quite a lot from neuralgia," said Mrs.Attray hastily. "Anyhow," she continued, "you canunderstand that I don't want to offend the Norridrums.Their household is the most rackety one in the county,and I believe no one ever knows to an hour or two whenany particular meal will appear on the table or what itwill consist of when it does appear."Eleanor Saxelby shuddered. She liked her meals tobe of regular occurrence and assured proportions."Still," pursued Mrs. Attray, "whatever their ownhome life may be, as landlords and neighbours they areconsiderate and obliging, so I don't want to quarrel withthem. Besides, if Ronnie didn't play cards there he'd beplaying somewhere else.""Not if you were firm with him," said Eleanor "Ibelieve in being firm.""Firm? I am firm," exclaimed Mrs. Attray; "I ammore than firm - I am farseeing. I've done everything Ican think of to prevent Ronnie from playing for money.I've stopped his allowance for the rest of the year, sohe can't even gamble on credit, and I've subscribed alump sum to the church offertory in his name instead ofgiving him instalments of small silver to put in the bagon Sundays. I wouldn't even let him have the money totip the hunt servants with, but sent it by postal order.He was furiously sulky about it, but I reminded him ofwhat happened to the ten shillings that I gave him forthe Young Men's Endeavour League 'Self-Denial Week.' ""What did happen to it?" asked Eleanor."Well, Ronnie did some preliminary endeavouring withit, on his own account, in connection with the GrandNational. If it had come off, as he expressed it, hewould have given the League twenty-five shillings andnetted a comfortable commission for himself; as it was,that ten shillings was one of the things the League hadto deny itself. Since then I've been careful not to lethim have a penny piece in his hands.""He'll get round that in some way," said Eleanorwith quiet conviction; "he'll sell things.""My dear, he's done all that is to be done in thatdirection already. He's got rid of his wrist-watch andhis hunting flask and both his cigarette cases, and Ishouldn't be surprised if he's wearing imitation-goldsleeve links instead of those his Aunt Rhoda gave him onhis seventeenth birthday. He can't sell his clothes, ofcourse, except his winter overcoat, and I've locked thatup in the camphor cupboard on the pretext of preservingit from moth. I really don't see what else he can raisemoney on. I consider that I've been both firm and far-seeing.""Has he been at the Norridrums lately?" askedEleanor."He was there yesterday afternoon and stayed todinner," said Mrs. Attray. "I don't quite know when hecame home, but I fancy it was late.""Then depend on it he was gambling," said Eleanor,with the assured air of one who has few ideas and makesthe most of them. " Late hours in the country alwaysmean gambling.""He can't gamble if he has no money and no chance ofgetting any," argued Mrs. Attray; "even if one plays forsmall stakes one must have a decent prospect of payingone's losses.""He may have sold some of the Amherst pheasantchicks," suggested Eleanor; "they would fetch about tenor twelve shillings each, I daresay.""Ronnie wouldn't do such a thing," said Mrs. Attray;"and anyhow I went and counted them this morning andthey're all there. No," she continued, with the quietsatisfaction that comes from a sense of painstaking andmerited achievement, "I fancy that Ronnie had to contenthimself with the role of onlooker last night, as far asthe card-table was concerned.""Is that clock right?" asked Eleanor, whose eyes hadbeen straying restlessly towards the mantel-piece forsome little time; "lunch is usually so punctual in yourestablishment.""Three minutes past the half-hour," exclaimed Mrs.Attray; "cook must be preparing something unusuallysumptuous in your honour. I am not in the secret; I'vebeen out all the morning, you know."Eleanor smiled forgivingly. A special effort byMrs. Attray's cook was worth waiting a few minutes for.As a matter of fact, the luncheon fare, when it madeits tardy appearance, was distinctly unworthy of thereputation which the justly-treasured cook had built upfor herself. The soup alone would have sufficed to casta gloom over any meal that it had inaugurated, and it wasnot redeemed by anything that followed. Eleanor saidlittle, but when she spoke there was a hint of tears inher voice that was far more eloquent than outspokendenunciation would have been, and even the insouciantRonald showed traces of depression when he tasted therognons Saltikoff."Not quite the best luncheon I've enjoyed in yourhouse," said Eleanor at last, when her final hope hadflickered out with the savoury."My dear, it's the worst meal I've sat down to foryears," said her hostess; "that last dish tastedprincipally of red pepper and wet toast. I'm awfullysorry. Is anything the matter in the kitchen, Pellin?"she asked of the attendant maid."Well, ma'am, the new cook hadn't hardly time to seeto things properly, coming in so sudden - " commencedPellin by way of explanation."The new cook!" screamed Mrs. Attray."Colonel Norridrum's cook, ma'am," said Pellin."What on earth do you mean? What is ColonelNorridrum's cook doing in my kitchen - and where is mycook?""Perhaps I can explain better than Pellin can," saidRonald hurriedly; "the fact is, I was dining at theNorridrums' yesterday, and they were wishing they had aswell cook like yours, just for to-day and to-morrow,while they've got some gourmet staying with them: theirown cook is no earthly good - well, you've seen what sheturns out when she's at all flurried. So I thought itwould be rather sporting to play them at baccarat for theloan of our cook against a money stake, and I lost,that's all. I have had rotten luck at baccarat all thisyear."The remainder of his explanation, of how he hadassured the cooks that the temporary transfer had hismother's sanction, and had smuggled the one out and theother in during the maternal absence, was drowned in theoutcry of scandalised upbraiding."If I had sold the woman into slavery there couldn'thave been a bigger fuss about it," he confided afterwardsto Bertie Norridrum, "and Eleanor Saxelby raged andramped the louder of the two. I tell you what, I'll betyou two of the Amherst pheasants to five shillings thatshe refuses to have me as a partner at the croquettournament. We're drawn together, you know."This time he won his bet.

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