excitement that they brought. He preferred to cut the pack for money, rather than to play a game of skill with them.
He liked to know quickly his gain or loss.
Having gone through a considerable fortune at the gaming clubs, he had retired to his country
Seat, meaning to cut his losses by quiet living. But after a few weeks the gloom of his rambling old house got on his
nerves, and the urge to return to the fashionable clubs of London compelled him to sell family pictures, jewelry and
plate. With the funds thus obtained he drove to London in order to try a last conflict with the Goddess of Fate.
At them Bucks’ Club in St. James’s he was received back with open arms. He had been missed for himself by
his real friends, and by others because he played for high stakes and lost gamely. What was more to the point of
pleasing them, he lost pretty persistently. Also he was over-generous and when the wine mounted to his brain,
which never made him quarrelsome, but the more jovial, he did not notice that he was doing all the paying.
His last funds sank as rapidly as he played. When luck was with him one night, it deserted him more disastrously
the next. But he stuck to his purpose, hoping that he would be the gainer at the last. The crisis came when he had
circulated the wine too freely, and his muddled, jolly head made a miscalculation of a thousand guineas. He cut for
his last thousand, as he thought, not realizing that he had lost it on the round of bets before. His opponent made him
see that he was wrong, after some argument in which high words were spoken. This attracted the interest of
Admiral Troubridge, who, with his brother the General, and two guests, was playing a simple round of backgammon
if they felt so disposed, though the younger members of the club wondered how they got any amusement from such
games.
The Admiral had know Sir Harry’s father, and had long grieved to see the son thus ruining himself. Thinking
now to save the young man from a squabble which he thought might turn into a stupid affair of honor, he excused
himself to his guests by saying that he wished to get the youngster out of an awkward corner which his so-called
friends had forced him into.
“ I’ll bring him over and introduce him to you, my good Doctor,” he said to the learned Vicar of Dymchurch,
who had been his dinner guest.
As the Admiral approached he heard young Sir Harry say: “Well, then you are right. Major, and I take your word
for it. Had I but kept a clear head I would not have always played for stakes that I could pay out of hand. I regret
that I must ask you not to accept my I O U. I will get round tomorrow and see what can be done.”
With a smile that thinly disguised a sneer, the Major replied: “I think you said that your stables were empty and
everything not entailed disposed of for cash. Perhaps you were only exaggerating. I hope so from my heart.”
The vicar of Dymchurch overheard and sized up the situation as the Admiral beckoned him to join the other
group.
“My good friend, Harry,” said the Admiral, “as your father’s dearest friend I want to have the pleasure of
introducing you to Doctor Syn, Vicar of Dymchurch, who also knew your father and would like to know his son.”
“I am honored to meet you, Reverend Sir,” replied Sir Harry. “Let me in my turn present you to my friends, who
are all acquainted with the Admiral. This is Mr. Briston, Captain Tandyshall, Lord Strathway, Sir Peter Hemminge,
and this Major Culland.”
Doctor Syn noted that the last name was given with a formality that carried no friendship with it. Also that the
other gentlemen seemed by their manner to hold the same view. It was obvious that his remarks about Sir Harry’s
stables being empty had offended their sense of decency. Even the Captain who served in the same regiment had
edged away from his superior officer after bowing to Doctor Syn.
Lord Strathway, by reason of rank and seniority, became the spokesman.
“It is indeed an honor to the Bucks’ Club to welcome you, Doctor Syn. Your name is on every one’s lips for the
courage you have shown in your parish against this Scarecrow. I marvel that you can appear so calm, for I confess
that were I in your shoes, I should be shaking in them. I vow had I defied this outlaw as you have, I should be
expecting him to leap out at me from the panels of this card -room.”
“Doctor Syn of Dymchurch, is it?” drawled the Major, surveying the Parson with amusement through his
quizzing-glass.
Doctor Syn bowed his assent.
“Well, well,” went on the officer, “is the Bucks’ Club turned into a Revenue Office that we have the scarecrow’s
enemies congregated together? The Admiral here, his brother the General there, with Major Faunce, and now the
Parson. All four have been made the public butt of the Scarecrow’s humor, and no doubt you are meeting here as a
place of safety in which to form further plans against him. The old proverb, eh? Try, try again. ‘Pon my soul the
Scarecrow’s head must be swollen with pride, when he has beaten the Navy, Army, Revenue officers, Bow Street
Runners and the Church. Now, Sir Harry, here’s a chance for you. A good idea. These gentlemen gathered here
like ill-omented birds of prey against the Scarecrow gives me a hint. You owe a thousand guineas for that last cut.
A thousand guineas will be paid to whoever catches the Scarecrow. Significant that the sums coincide. Surely Fate
challenges your courage and ingenuity, my good Sir Harry Sales? You have courage, eh? And certainly an
ingenuity in dealing with the Jews. I am quite sure, too, that you have a desire to pay your debts, especially your
debts o f honor. Why don’t you attempt the task that has beaten so many? Why not go down to this Romney Marsh
place, play a lone hand, and bring back the guineas?”
Doctor Syn saw the challenge accepted in sir Harry’s eye, and was secretly amused, but aloud he said very
seriously, “You would be rendering a great service to the country, sir, if you were to succeed, and my poor parish
could once more lift up its eyes unto the hills.”
“Come now, sir,” put in the Major, “I think we should not put pressure upon Sir Harry. He must follow his own
discretion, for we must own that disaster has overtaken all who play a hand against this Scarecrow.”
“There is no disaster greater in my mind,” said Sir Harry quietly, “than to postpone the payment of a debt of
honor. Give me a week. By that time I will do my best to confront the Scarecrow, and what will happen then is in
the hands of Fate.”
“You’ll be more than ever the hero of the ladies if you succeed,” laughed the Major, “ and I need not add the
envy of the men.”
“I think that by accepting your challenge, Major Culland,” said Doctor Syn, “Sir Harry Sales will earn great
respect from all. It is undoubtedly a brave thing to play a one had against our local scoundrel.”
“But he shall not play a lone hand as far as I’m concerned,” replied Sir Peter Hemminge. “My sword and such
brains as I can muster to the problem are at your service, Sir Harry.”
“You mean that you’ll join me?” asked Sales joyfully.
“There’s my hand on it,” declared Sir Peter.
“And mine too,” put in Mr. Briston. “Hunting a Scarecrow will be a new sport, by gad.”
“I think so, too,” cried Lord Strathway. “What about you, Tandy? You’re on furlough I think you said.”
“I am, my lord,” replied the Captain, “and not loving the cards as well as my Major here, I’ll welcome anything
more exciting than playing here night and day. You’ve no objection, Major?”