The Swindler and Other Stories | Page 4

him, an Englishman named Norton,
dived also, and it was he who, after a moment, righted himself with
something shining in his hand which he proceeded grimly to display to
the whole assembled company. It was a small, folding mirror--little
more than a toy, it looked--with a pin attached to its leathern back.
Deliberately Norton turned it over, examining it in such a way that
others might examine it too. Then, having concluded his investigation
of this very simple contrivance, he slapped it down upon the table with
a gesture of unutterable contempt.
"The secret of success," he observed.
Every one present looked at Archie, who had sunk back in his chair
white to the lips. He seemed to be trying to say something, but nothing
came of it.
And then, quite calmly, ending a silence more terrible than any tumult
of words, another voice made itself heard.
"Even so, Mr. Norton." West bent forward and with the utmost
composure possessed himself of the shining thing upon the table. "This
is my property. I have been rooking you fellows all the evening."
The avowal was so astounding and made with such complete
sang-froid that no one uttered a word. Only every one turned from
Archie to stare at the man who thus serenely claimed his own.
He proceeded with unvarying coolness to explain himself.
"It was really done as an experiment," he said. "I am not a card-sharper
by profession, as some of you already know. But in the course of
certain investigations not connected with the matter I now have in hand,
I picked this thing up, and, being something of a specialist in certain
forms of cheating, I made up my mind to try my hand at this and prove
for myself its extreme simplicity. You see how easy it is to swindle,
gentlemen, and the danger to which you expose yourselves. There is no

necessity for me to explain the trick further. The instrument speaks for
itself. It is merely a matter of dexterity, and keeping it out of sight."
He held it up a second time before his amazed audience, twisted it this
way and that, with the air of a conjurer displaying his smartest trick,
attached it finally to the lapel of his coat, and rose.
"As a practical demonstration it seems to have acted very well," he
remarked. "And no harm done. If you are all satisfied, so am I."
He collected the notes at his elbow with a single careless sweep of the
hand, and tossed them into the middle of the table; then, with a brief,
collective bow, he turned to go. But Rudd, the first to recover from his
amazement, sprang impetuously to his feet. "One moment, sir!" he said.
West stopped at once, a cold glint of humour in his eyes. Without a
sign of perturbation he faced round, meeting the American's hostile
scrutiny calmly, judicially.
"I wish to say," said Rudd, "on behalf of myself, and--I think I may
take it--on behalf of these other gentlemen also, that your action was a
most dastardly piece of impertinence, to give it its tamest name.
Naturally, we don't expect Court manners from one of your profession,
but we do look for ordinary common honesty. But it seems that we look
in vain. You have behaved like a mighty fine skunk, sir. And if you
don't see that there's any crying need for a very humble apology, you've
got about the thickest hide that ever frayed a horsewhip."
Every one was standing by the time this elaborate threat was uttered,
and it was quite obvious that Rudd voiced the general opinion. The
only one whose face expressed no indignation was Archie Bathurst. He
was leaning against the wall, mopping his forehead with a shaking
hand.
No one looked at him. All attention was centred upon West, who met it
with a calm serenity suggestive of contempt. He showed himself in no
hurry to respond to Rudd's indictment, and when he did it was not
exclusively to Rudd that he spoke.

"I am sorry," he coolly said, "that you consider yourselves aggrieved by
my experiment. I do not myself see in what way I have injured you.
However, perhaps you are the best judges of that. If you consider an
apology due to you, I am quite ready to apologise."
His glance rested for a second upon Archie, then slowly swept the
entire assembly. There was scant humility about him, apologise though
he might.
Rudd returned his look with open disgust. But it was Norton who
replied to West's calm defence of himself.
"It is Bathurst who is the greatest loser," he said, with a glance at that
young man, who was beginning to recover from his agitation. "It was a
tom-fool trick to play,