is watch from the
club steward, and returned to the table. But it was of no use; this soon
followed the rest of his money. There were but two rules at the Turf and
Jockey--"no I. O. U.'s were allowed at the card-table, and no one was
permitted, under pain of expulsion from the club, to borrow or lend
money." Carey had no alternative but to sit by the gaming-table and
watch the play. He slept at the club on the sofa that night, and looked
on at the play all the next day, drinking brandy all the while. The
Oxford boy had left the club late in the night before, carrying most of
the ready money of the establishment with him, and the broken gamblers
played for but small stakes. The excitement of his losses and the
constant draughts of brandy had made Carey wild and nervous. He paced to
and fro in the billiard-room, racking his fuddled brain to find out a
way for getting at ready money. His friends had long since ceased
lending to him; his wife had repeatedly told him that she would not
supply him with money to gamble with. Finally he remembered that she
had told him that she had called upon the President to induce that wise
ruler to restore him to his place in the Stamp and Sealing Wax. If he
could only get that task, he would in a few weeks, with his hundred
dollars' allowance a week and his salary, have a considerable sum to
give his system another chance, taking care to avoid tipsy greenhorns
this time. He felt too rickety to face the President until he had drank
several more glasses of brandy. This done, he hailed a cab and drove
straight to Buckingham Palace. Immediately he sent in his name by the
policeman; he was shown into the President's private room, where the
ruler of England was seated at a large desk looking over a heap of
official papers. The President looked sharply and inquiringly at him.

"Mr. Oswald Carey?" he inquired, looking at the card which he held
between his thumb and forefinger.

"Yes, sir," stammered Carey, who felt his hand shaking violently as he
leaned against the President's desk. "I have come to shee about my
reshtoration to Samp and Stealing-Wax Office--I beg pardon, I mean Steal
and Sampling-Wax Office." He twirled the waxed end of his mustache with
a trembling hand, and looked uneasily at the President, feeling that he
had taken more brandy than was necessary to settle his nerves.

The President said nothing, but smiled a little scornfully. Nothing gave
Bagshaw such keen delight as to see