Under Cover Part 43

Alice nodded. "He's the kind you've got to lead to the altar. I had trouble with Michael. He imagined himself too hopelessly old, and very nearly married quite an elderly female. He'd have been dead now if he had. Here's your prey coming in now."

Monty entered the card-room from the garden, nervously stuffing into his pocket the precious package which Denby had thrown to him.

"I hope I haven't delayed the game," he apologized.

"We didn't even miss you," Nora said acidly.

"Were you supposed to be in on this game?"

"Don't be cross, Nora," Alice advised; "you can see his headache has been troubling him. Is it better, Monty?"

"What headache?" he asked. "I haven't had a headache for months. Oh, yes," he added, confused, "that neuralgic headache has gone, thanks.

Shall we play?"

"Yes, let's," Nora said. "Michael dealt before he went to sleep."

"Wake up, Michael," his wife said, tapping him with her fan, "you're not at the opera; you're playing cards."

"I haven't slept for a moment," he a.s.sured her, after a pause in which he got his bearings. "The light was too strong--"

"So you shaded your eyes," his wife went on. "Well, when they are unshaded will you remember we're playing?"

"Who opened it?" he demanded with a great effort.

"Bridge, my dear," Alice reminded him, "not poker--bridge, auction bridge." She paused a moment while the clock struck three. "And it's three o'clock, and it's quite time you began."

"One no trump," Nora said, after looking at her hand cheerfully.

"It isn't your bid," Alice corrected her, "although I don't wonder you forgot. It's Michael's; he dealt."

Michael tried to concentrate his gaze on his hand. There seemed to be an enormous number of cards, and he needed time to consider the phenomenon.

"What'd the dealer draw?" he asked.

"But we're not playing poker," Alice said.

"It was Monty who confused me," he said in excuse, and looked reproachfully at his vis-a-vis. "What's trumps?"

"It's your bid," Nora cried. "You dealt."

"I go one spade."

"One no trump," Monty declared.

"Two royals," Nora cried, not that she had them, but to take it away from Monty.

"Pa.s.s," said Alice glumly. She could have gone two royals, but dared not risk three.

"Give me three cards," Michael cried more cheerfully. The way was becoming clearer.

"Michael," his wife said reprovingly, "if you're really as tired as that, you'd better go to bed."

"I never broke up a poker game in my life," he cried. "It's only the shank of the evening. What's happened, partner?" he yawned to Nora.

"I went two royals," she said.

Michael looked at his hand enthusiastically. "Three aces," he murmured.

"I'd like to open it for two dollars--as it is, I pa.s.s."

"Two no trumps," said Monty. When the rest had pa.s.sed, Nora led and Monty played from the dummy. Michael, at last feeling he was rounding into form, played a low card, so that dummy took the trick with a nine.

"Anything wrong?" he asked anxiously as Nora shook her head.

"If you don't want to win you're playing like a bridge article in a Sunday paper," she returned.

"This game makes me sick," he said in disgust. "Nothing but reproaches."

"I wish Mr. Denby were playing instead of poor Michael," Nora remarked.

"Steve's got the right idea," Monty commented. "He's in bed."

"Great man, Denby," said Michael. "He knows you can't sit up all night unless you drink."

"We'll finish the rubber and then stop," his wife said comfortingly. "Do remember it's not poker."

"I wish it were," he exclaimed dolefully. "No partners--no reproaches--no post-mortems in poker. If you make a fool of yourself you lose your own money and everybody else is glad of it and gets cheerful."

"After this then, one round of jacks to please Michael," said Alice.

"And then quit," Monty suggested. "I'm tired, too."

"I'm not tired," Michael a.s.serted. "I'm only thirsty. It takes this form with me. When I'm thirsty--"

Michael stopped in consternation. Overhead, from all parts of the house, came the mechanical announcement that burglars had broken in. The four rose simultaneously from the table.

"Burglars!" cried Michael, looking from one to the other.

"Good Heavens!" Nora gasped.

"What shall we do?" cried Alice.

"It's gone off by accident," Monty a.s.serted quivering, as there came suddenly the sound of a shot.

"Somebody's killed!" Alice exclaimed, with an air of certainty.

Michael was the first to recover his poise. "Monty," he commanded sternly, "go and find what's the matter. I'll look after the girls."

Alice looked at him entreatingly. "You'd better go," she said; "I shall feel safer if you see what it is. You're not afraid, Michael?"