Chapter XXX: Hard Luck

Among the passengers that arrived at the Grand Central Depot by a train which reached the city about three hours before Al Allston's arrival, were a trio who attracted some attention from their fellow passengers; attention that was evidently unwelcome and annoying to at least two of the three.

There were two women and a man. One of the women, slight and heavily veiled, was supported, almost carried, by her companions. She seemed to be very ill.

As she was lifted from the car, one of the passengers, an elderly gentleman, overheard her say:

"Where am I? Where are you taking me?"

The gentleman stepped forward and asked:

"Can I be of any assistance? The lady seems to be sick."

His voice and manner showed very plainly that he suspected there was something wrong, but the two persons he addressed either did not notice this, or willfully ignored it.

"You are very kind, sir," responded the male member of the party of which the apparent invalid was one. "The lady is ill, and we are anxious to get her to her home as soon as possible. Would you be kind enough to call a carriage for us? I would not ask this of a stranger had you not so kindly proffered your assistance."

"I will do so with pleasure," replied the gentleman, evidently a little surprised at the manner in which his offer was received. "But may I ask what is the matter with the lady?"

The man he addressed tapped his forehead significantly.

"Brain disease?" questioned the gentleman.

"Yes. Brought on by overwork at school. Poor girl! But we have hope that in a few weeks she will be herself again."

"It is very sad."

"Very; and now, sir, if you will kindly call the carriage for me, I shall be greatly indebted to you."

"Certainly, sir."

As the gentleman hurried away, the woman whom we have mentioned as the third member of the party, a tall, showy-looking brunette, said:

"What's your game, Jack? Why did you send that old fellow for a carriage?"

"It was the easiest way to get rid of him," was the reply. "Didn't you see that he was very suspicious?"

"Of course."

"The way in which I accepted his offer took him off his guard, and, perhaps, saved us some trouble."

"Hush! here he comes."

"I see him. Don't say a word. Leave all to me."

"I have found a very good coach for you," announced the old gentleman, hurrying toward them. "Come this way, please."

Murmuring his thanks, Jack Farley, whom the reader has, perhaps, ere this, recognized, hurried toward the entrance, supporting the alleged invalid, who was now moaning piteously.

A few moments later the three were ensconced in the carriage.

"Where shall I tell the driver to go?" asked the gentleman.

Farley gave an address.

As the carriage started, Miss Hollingsworth asked:

"Why did you give that address?"

"You didn't suppose I was going to give the right one, did you?" said Farley, petulantly. "When we are out of sight of the depot I'll tell the driver where to go."

As soon as the coach had turned a corner he leaned out of the window and called out:

"Driver, I've changed my mind."

"Well, sir?"

"Take us to this address."

And he handed the man a card.

"You think of everything," said Miss Hollingsworth.

"I have to."

"I was afraid that we were going to have some trouble with that old man."

"So was I at first, but it turned out all right. I tell you, Olga, it takes a smart one to get the better of Jack Farley."

Miss Hollingsworth gave a peculiar laugh.

"What do you mean by that?" demanded Farley. "What have you got in your head now?"

"Oh, nothing."

"Yes, you have. What is the matter with you, anyway? Your whole manner to-night has been unnatural and peculiar."

"That is only your imagination."

"It is not. Olga, you are not thinking of rounding on me, are you?"

"Of course not. What an idea!"

"Because if you are, I warn you not to try it; if you do, I'll make you wish you had never been born."

"Why should I round on you, as you put it? Are not our interests one? Am I not helping you in this affair? Am I not unquestioningly obeying you in everything? Jack, you are nervous and excited."

"Well, I guess that's so. What I need is a bottle of fizz; and, as soon as I get the girl to your flat, I'll go down to Billy's and get it."

"Don't do that," said Miss Hollingsworth, uneasily.

"Why not?"

"It is too late."

"It's only a little after twelve o'clock."

"But you will stay there gambling and drinking until morning, and I do not want to be left alone with this girl."

"I shan't stay more than an hour or so; as for the girl, give her another dose of the stuff, and she'll be quiet enough."

At this moment the carriage halted in front of a tall apartment house on a fashionable thoroughfare within a stone's throw of Fifth Avenue.

Farley alighted first, carrying the unconscious girl, and was followed by Miss Hollingsworth.

"Wait for me, driver," he ordered. "I shall need you again in a few minutes."

"All right, sir."

Ten minutes later Farley emerged from the house.

"Do you know Billy Rawlins' place?" he asked the cabman.

It was a notorious gambling house, and the man knew it well, as did most of his fraternity.

"Take me there, and wait for me."

Twenty minutes later the resort of vice was reached. Farley entered, and did not emerge for more than an hour. When, at last, he did come out, his face was flushed with wine, and wore a look of disgust and anger.

"That's the last time I'll ever set foot in that place," he said, addressing the sleepy driver. "I believe I've been hoodooed by some one. I never have any luck in Billy's nowadays, anyway."

"Luck against you to-night, sir?" asked the cabman, sympathetically.

"I should say luck was against me. I went in there with two hundred dollars, and all I have got left now is only a little more than enough to pay you."

"Hard luck," commented the man, evidently relieved by the latter part of the sentence.

"Home," ordered Farley, leaping into the carriage.

As the vehicle passed the Grand Central Depot he happened to look out; it was at the precise moment when Al Alston handed the brakeman the pencil.

"That boy here!" muttered Farley. "Well, he hasn't lost any time. I believe he is my evil genius. Somehow or other the sight of him sends a cold chill over me. I wonder if he saw me? I hope not. Pshaw! Why should I bother my head about the kid? I'll try to dismiss him from my mind for to-night."

The task did not prove an easy one, however, though Farley stopped at two saloons on the way; when the carriage reached its destination his mind was still busy with the boy he hated.

Having paid the driver with almost the last cent he possessed, he entered the house and ascended to the second story.

Unlocking a door at the head of the stairs, he entered a plainly furnished flat.

Miss Hollingsworth met him at the door. There was something in her face that he did not like, as she said:

"Back at last, are you?"