The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, September 13, 1903, Page 14

vunuow, Koepung her back to toe who smiled so sadly and yet so heart- lessly “l §idn't want the mtllon, Peggy,” he “You think as the rest do, I at I was a fool to act as I did. It would be renk idiocy on my part to blame you any more than the others for iking as you do. Appearances are against me; the proof is overwhelming. A year ago I was called a man; to-day they stripping me of every claim to that stinction. The world says I am a fool, & doit, almost a criminal—but no one belleves 1 am & man. Peggy, will you feel better toward me if I tell you that I am going to begin life all over again? It will i ter that starts out r, iIf you will, it he Monty you once Monty,” she murmured softly, It would be good to see him— better than to see the Monty of ear.” , In spite of all T have done, Peg- vou will stand by me? You won't de- me lfke the rest? You'll be the same the other days?’ he cried, his ss breaking down. ‘How can you ask? Why me?” moment they stood silent, each the heart of the other, each g of a new day trembled danger- wonder if you care enough to—to—" but he could only look should you rt all over agaln with you?” she urself to the prodigal w1 ou, child, sks, Peggy, ant you—yo 1 do love me—I can your eyes, I can feel it in your you have been in realizing as she stretched 'ms to him. For many minutes r ciose, finding a beautiful world again. ave you really cared?’ he ; all my life.” all my life. I know it for months. Oh, s to have wasted this d ali this love of mine. ofligate in love, Peg- n atom of it, dear, g as 1 live. will build a greater love, Mon- d the new life together. We poor while we have love as 't mind being poor with me?” be poor with you,” she said Will you marry me Don't say no, on that day. , dear? f the past T to-morrow? want to the be gin Don’'t vill be?” aded =0 arde and =0 t he won his point even grew out of a whim that she then underst She was not afterward s object in hav- ke place on the two hours be =t well all went they e wster's millions before o'clock, and Peggy's life of pov- would cover more than three rs of time. She believed him worth time of poverty. So they would start wew life with but one possession— CHAPT XXXL Soon after moon on the 224 of Septem- ber, Monty folded his report to Swear- engen Jones, stuck it into his pocket and A parcel delivery wagon ff a mysterious bundle a few utes Mrs. Gray could not con- her wonder, but Brewster's answers ceal to her questions threw little light on the mystery. He could not tell her the big bundle contained the receipts that were to prove his sincerity when the time came to settle with Mr. Jones. Brewster had v is own form of receipt for every purchase. Tife little stub receipt books had been made to order for him and not only he but every person in his employ one everywhere. No matter how chase the person who re- lar of Brewster's money ed a receipt for the amount. News- boys and bootblacks were the only beings who escaped the formality; tips to waiters, porters, cabbles, etc., were recorded and afterward put into a class by themselves. Receipts for the few dollars remaining in his possession were to be turned over on the morning of the 234 and the general report was not to be completed until 9 o'clock on that da g He kissed Pegsy g0od-by, told her to be ready for a drive at 4 oiclock, and then went off to find Joe Bragdon and Elon Gardner. They met him by ap- pointment and to them he confided his to be married on the following an't afford Monty,” exploded “Peggy is too good a girl. By gad, it isn't fair to her.” “We have agreed to begin life to-mor- row. Wait and see the result. I think it will surprise you. Incidentally it is up to me to get the license ay and to en- gage a minister's services. It is going to be quiet, you know. Joe, you can be my best man if you like and, Gardie, I'll ex- pect you to sign your name as one of the witnesses. To-morrow evening we'll have supper at Mrs. Gray's and ‘among those present’ will not comprise a very large list, I assure you. But we'll talk about that later on. Just now I want to ask you fellows to lend me enough money to get the license and pay the preacher. I'll return it to-morrow afternoon.” “Well, I'm damned,” exclaimed Gard- ner, utterly dumfounded by the nerve of the man. But they went with bim to get the license and Bragdon paid for it. Gardner promised to have the minister at the Gray house the next morning. Monty's other request—made in deep seriousness— was that Peggy was not to be told of the little transaction in which the license and the minister figured so prominently. He then hurried off (o the office of Grant & Ripley. The bundles of receipts had pre- ceded him. “Has Jones arrived in town?” was his first anxious question after the greetings. “He is not registered at any of the ho- tels,” responded Mr. Grant, and Brewster @id not see the troubled look that passed over his face. “He'll show up to-night, I presume,” said he, complacently. The lawyers did not tell him that all the telegrams they had sent to Swearengen Jones in the past two weeks had been returned to the New York office as unclaimed in Butte. The telegraph company reported that Mr. Jones was not to be found and that he had not been seen in Butte since the 34 of September. The lawyers were hourly expecting word from Montana men to whom they had telegraphed for informa- tion and advice. They were extremely nervous, but Montgomery Brewster was W\ . vager and excited to notice the fact. “A tall, bearded stranger was here this morning asking for you, Mr, Brewster,” said Ripley, his head bent over some pa- pers on his desk. h! sones, I'm sure. I've always im- agincd him with a long beard,” sald Mon- ty, relief in his voice, It was not Mr. Jones. quite well. This man was a stranger and refused to give his name. He sald he wouid call at Mrs. Gray's this afternoon.” “Did he look like a constable or a bill- collector?”” asked Monty, with a laugh. ‘He looked very much like a tramp.” “Well, we'll forget him for the time be- ing,” said Monty, drawing the report from his pocket. “Would you mind look- ing over this report, gentlemen? I'd like to know if it is in proper form to present to Mr. Jones.” Grant's hand trembled as he took the carefu'ly folded sheet from Brewster. A ‘We know Jones “The Queerest-Looking Man Came to the House to See You This Afternoon.” quick glance of despair passed between the two lawyers. ¥ “'Of course, you'll understand that this report is merely a synopsis of the expen- ditures. They are classified, however, and the receipts over there are arranged in such a way that Mr. Jones can very verify all the figures set out in the . For instance, where it says ‘cigars,” 1 have put down the total amount that went up in smoke. The re- ceipts are to serve as an itemized state- ment, you know.” Mr. Ripley took the paper from his partner's hand and, puli- ing himself together, read the report aloud. It was as follows: New York, Sept. 23, 19—, To Swearengen Jones, Esq. Executor under the will of the James T. Sedgwick of Montana: In pursuance of the terms of the afore- said will and in accord with the instruc- tions set forth by yourself as executor, I present my report of receipts and dis- bursements for the year in my life end- ing at midnight on Sept. 22. The accuracy of the figures set forth in this general statement may be established by referring to the receipts, which form a part of this report. There is not one penny of Edwin Peter Brewster's money In my possession, and I have no asset to mark its burial place. These figures are submitted for your most careful consideration: Origiral Capital . .$1,000,000.00 “Lumber and Fue ¥ Prize fight misjudged Monte Carlo _educa Race track errors Sale of six terrier p late 150.00 Sale of furniture and effects ... cestaaans 40,500.00 Interest on funds once in hand 19,140.00 Total amount to be disposed of..§1,160,040.00 DISBURSEMENTS. Rent for apartments $23,000.00 Furnishing apart: 88,372.00 Three automobiles 21,000.60 Renting six automobiles ., 25 000.00 L Amount lost to DeMille 1,000.00 Salaries 25,650.00 Amount auto a 12,240.00 Amount lost In ba 113,468.25 Amount lost on races 4,000.00 One glass screen Christmas pre Amount lost on ronc Amount lost through O. Harrison speculations (on my account) One hall (in two sections) Extra favors ... cru One carnival - Cigars Drinks, chiefly for oth Clothing . Rent of one villa . One courier Dinner parties ... Suppers and luncheons Theater parties and suppers. Hotel expenses . Lallway and ste =hip fares. For newsboys' home ... Two opera performances Repairs to “Flitter”.... In tow from somewhere to South- ampton Fpecial train to Florida Cottage in Florida Medical attendance . Living expenses in Florida Misappropriation of nal prop- erty by servants .. Taxes on personal property . Sundries 3,100.00 Household expenses . 24,805.00 Total disbursements . $1,160,040.00 Balance on hand 0.,000,000.00 Respectfully submitted, MONTGOMERY BREWSTER. “It's rather broad, you see, gentlemen, but there are receipts for every dollar, barring some trifling incidentals. He may think I dissipated the fortune, but I defy him or anybody else to prove that I have not had my money’s worth. To tell you the truth, it has seemed like a hundred milllon. If any one should tell you that it is an easy matter to waste a million dol- lars, refer him to me. Last fall I welghed 180 pounds, yesterday I barely moved the beam at 140; last fall there was not a wrinkle in my face, nor did I have a white hair. You see the result of overwork, gentlemen. It will take an age to get back to where I was physi- cally, but I think I can do it with the vacation that begins to-morrow. Inci- dentally, I'm going to be married to- morrow morning, just when I am poorer than I ever expect to be agin. I still have a few dollars to spend and I must be about {t. To-morrow I will account for what I spend this evening. It is now covered by the sundries’ item, but I'll have the receipts to show, all right. See yod' to-morrow He was gone, eager to be with Peggy, afrald to discuss his report with the lawyers. Grant and Ripley shook thelr heads and sat silent for a long time after his departure. ““We ought to hear something definite before night,” said Graat, but there was anxiety in his voice. “I wonder,” mused Ripley, as if to himself, “how he will take it if the ‘worst should happen.” CHAPTER XXXIL At 11 o'clock Pettingill's studio opened al its doors to the “Little Nons” and p:holr guests, and the last “Dutch lunch” was soon under way. Brewster had pald for it early in the evening and when he sat down at the head of the table there was not a penny in his pockets: A year ago, at the same place and at the same hour, he and the “Little Sons” were having a birthday feast. A milllén dollars came to him on that night. To-night he was poorer by far than on the other occasion, but he expected a little gift on the new anniversary. 'lha(bo‘lrd. besides the nine “'Lit- sat six guests, among the: DeMilles, Peggy Gray and Mary Valen tine. “Nopper” Harrison was the only absent “Little Son,” and his heath was proposed by Brewster almost before the echoes of the toast to the bride and groom dled away. Interruption came earlier on this occa- sion than it did that night a year ago. Ellls did not deliver his messages to Brewster until 3 o'clock in the morning, but the A. D. T. boy who rang the bell at Pettinglll's a year later handed him a tel- egram before 12 o'clock. “‘Congratulations are coming in, old man,” sald DeMille, as Monty looked fearfully at the little envelope the boy had given him. Many happy returns of the day,” gested Bragdon. “By Jove, it nsible of you to get married on your birthday, Monty. It saves time and expense to your friends. “Read it aloud,” sald “Subway” Smith. ““Two to one {t's from Nopper Harrison,"” cried Pettingill. Brewster's fingers trembled, he knew not wh as he opened the envelope. There was the most desolate feeling in his heart, the most ghastly premonition that ill-news had come in this last hour. He drew forth the telegram and slowly painfully unfolded it. No one could have told by his expression that he felt almost that he was reading his death warrant. It was from Grant & Ripley and evidently had been following him about town for. two or three hours. The lawyers had filed it at §:30 o'clock. He read it at a glance, his eyes burn- ing, his heart freezing. To the end of his days these words lived sharp and dis- tinct in his brain: “ome to the office immediately. - Wil walit all night for you if necessary. Jones has disappeared and there is absolutely no trace of him. GRANT & RIPLEY." Brewster sat as one paralyzed, absolute- 1y no sign of emotion in his face. The others began to clamor for the contents of the telegram, but his tongue was stiff and motlonless, his ears deaf. Every drop of blood in his body was stilled by the shock, every sense given him by the Creator was centered upon eleven words in the handwriting of a careless telegraph operator—"Jones has disappeared and there is absolutely no trace of him.” “JONES HAS DISAPPEARED!" Those were the words, plain and terrible in their clearness, tremendous in their brutality. Slowly the rest of the message began to urge its claims upon his brain. “Come to our office immediately” and “Will wait all night” battled for recognition. He was calm because he had not the power to express an emotion. How he malntained control of himselt afterward he never knew. Some powerful, kindly force as- serted itself, coming to his relief with the timeliness of a genii. Gradually it began to dawn upon him that the others were walting for him to read the message aloud. He was not sure that a sound would come forth when he opened his lips to speak, but the tones were steady, nat- ural and as cold as steel. “I am sorry I can't tell you about this,” he =aid, so gravely that his hearers were silenced. “It is a business matter of such vital importance that I must ask you to excuse me for an hour or so. I will ex- plain everything to-morrow. Please don't be uneasy. If you will do me the honor sug- “Monty, Heart!” Was Mrs. Gray’s Only Appeal. to grace the board of an absent host I'll You Are Breaking My be most grateful. It is imperative that T go, and at once. I promise to return in an hour,” He was standing, his knees as stiff as fron. “Is it anything serious?”’ asked De- Mille. “What!” has anything happened?” came in halting, frightened tongs from Peggy. “It concerns me alone, and it {s pure- ly of a business nature. BSeriously, I can’t delay going for another minute. it is vital. In an hour I'll return. Peggy, don't be worried—don’'t be dis- tressed about me. Go on and have a good time, everybody, and you'll ind me the jolliest fellow of all when I come back. It's twelve o'clock. I'll be here by one on the 23d of September.” “Let me go With you,” pleaded Peggy, tremulously, as she followed him into the hallway. “I must go alone,” he answered. “Don’t worry, little woman, it will be all right.” His kiss sent a chill to the very bot- tom of Peggy's heart. CHAPTER XXXIIT ““Close the door, please,” came In steady ) [/ tones from Ripley. Mr. Grant dropped into a chair and Brewster mechanically slammed the door. & “Is it true?” he demanded hoarsely, his hand still on the knob. “8it down, Brewster, and control your- self,” said Ripley. “Good God, man, can’t you sees I am calm?' cried Monty. “Go on—tell me all about it. What do you know? What have you heard?"”’ “He cannot be found, that's all”” nounced Ripley, with deadly intentne: “I don't know what it means. There is no explanation. The whole thing is in- concelvable. SIit down and I will tell you everythin Quickly as possible.” “There isn't much to tell,” sald Grat, mechanically. “I can take it better standing,” declared seen in Butte on the 3d of this month,” sald Ripley. ‘‘We sent several telegrams to him after that day, asking when he expected to leave for: New York. They never were claimed and the telegraph company reported that he could not be found. We thought he might have gone off to look after some of his property and were not uneasy. Finally we began to wonder why he had not wired us on leaving for the East. I telegraphed again and got no answer. It dawned upon us that this was something unus- ual. We wired his secretary and received a response from the Chief of Police. He asked, in turn, if we could tell him any- thing about the whereabouts of Jones. This naturally alarmed us and yesterday we kept the wires hot. The result of our inquiries is terrible, Mr. Brewster."” “‘Why didn’t you tell me?” asked Brews- ter. ““There can be no doubt tnat Jones has fled, accompanied by his secretary. The belief in Butte is that the secretary has murdered him.” “‘God!” was the only sound that came from the lips of Brewster. Ripley molstened his lips and went on. “We have dispatches here from the po- lice, the banks, the trust companies and from a half dozen mine managers. You may read them If you like, but I can tell you what they say. About the first of this month Jones began to turn va- rious securities Into money. It is now known that they were once the property of James T. Sedgwick, held In trust for you. The safety deposit vaults were aft- erward visited and inspection shows that he. removed every scrap of stock, every bond, everything of value that he could lay his hands upon. His own papers and effects were not disturbed. Yours alone have disappeared. It is this fact that convinces the authorities that the secre- tary has made away with the old man and has fled with the property. The bank peorle say that Jones drew out every dellur of the Bedgwick money, and ths police say that he realized tremendous sums on the -convertible securiti The sirenge part of it is that he sold your mines and your real estate, the purchaser being & man. named Golden. Brewster, it—It looks very much as if he had dis- appezred with everything.’ Brewster did not take his eyes from Ripley’s face throughout the terrible speech; he did not move a fraction of an inch from the rigid position assumed at the beginning. “Is anything being done?” he asked me- chanically. “The police are investigating. He is known to have started off into the moun- tains with his secretary on the third of September. Neither has been seen since that day, so far as any one knows. The earth seems to have swallowed them. The authorities are searching the moun- tains and are making every effort to find Jones or his body. He is known to be eccentric and at first not much impor- tance was attached to his actions. That is all we can tell you at present. There may be developments to-morrow. It looks bad—terribly bad. We—we had the utmost confidence in Jones. My God, 1 wish I could help you, my boy.” “I don’t blame you, gentlemen,” said Brewster bravely. “It's just my luck, that’s all. Something told me all along that—that it wouldn’t turn out right. I wasn't looking for this kind of end, though. My only fear was that—Jones wouldn't consider me worthy to recelve the fortune. It never occurred to me that he might prove to be the—the unworthy one. will take you a little farther into our confidence,” Brewster,” said Grant, slowly. “Mr. Jones notified us in the be- ginning that he would be governed large- 1y in his decislon by our opinion of your conduct. That is why we felt no hesi- tation in advising you to continue as you were going. “The strangest circumstance of all, Mr. Brewster, is that no such person as Gold- en, the purchaser of your properties, can be found. He Is supposed to reside in Omaha, and it is kpown that he paid nearly three million dollars for the prop- erty that now stands in his name. Iie pald it to Mr. Jones in cash, too, and he pald every cent that the property Is ‘worth.” “But he must be In existence some- where,” cried Brewster, in perplexity. “How the devil could he pay the money if he doesn’t exist?"” “I only know that no trace of the man can be found. They know nothing of him in Omaha,” sald Grant, hopelessly. “So it has finally happenerd,” saidl Brewster, but his excitement had drop- ped. “Well,” he added, throwing him- selt into a deep chair, “it was always much too strange to be true. Even at the beginning it secmed like a dream, and now—well, now I am just awake, like the little boy after the fairy tale. I seem like a fool to have taken it so seriously.” “There was no other way,” protested Ripley, “you were quite right.” ‘“Well, after all.” continued Brewster, and the voice was as of one in a dream, “perhaps it's as well to have been in wonderland even if you have to come down afterward to the ordinary world. I am foolish perhaps, but even now I would not give it up.”’ Then the thought of Peggy clutched him by the throat, and he stopped. After a moment he gathered himself tegetherandrose. ““Gentlemen,” he said sharply and his voice had changed: I have had my fun and this is the end of it. Down underneath I am desperately tired of the whole thing, and I give you my word that you will find me a different man to-morrow, I am going to buckls down to the real thing. I am going to prove that my grandfather's blood is in me. And I shall come cut on top.” Ripley was obviously moved as he re- plied, “I don't question it for a moment. You are made of the right stuff. I saw that long ago. You may count on us to- morrow for any amount you need.” Grant indorsed the opinion. “I like your spirit, Brewster,” he sald. ‘“There are not many men who would have taken this as well. It's pretty hard on you, too, and it's a miserable wedding gift for your bride."” “We may have important news from Butte in the morning,” sald Ripley, hopc fully; “at any rate, more of the details. The newspapers will have sensational stories, no doubt, and we have asked for the latest ars direct trom the au- thoritles. We'll see that things are prop- erly investigated, Go home now, my boy, and go to bed. You will begin to-morrow ‘with good luck at your side and you may be happy all your life In spite of to- 7 \ night's depression.” “I'm sure to be happy,” sald Brewster, simply. “The ceremony takes place at 7 o'clock, gentlemen. I was coming to your oftice at 9 on a little matter of business, but I fancy it won't after all be necessary for me to hurry. I'll-drop in before noon. however, and get that money. By the Way, here are the receipts for the money I spent to-night. Will you put them away with the others? I intend to live up to my part of the contract, and it will Bave me the trouble of presenting them regularly in the morning. Good night, gentlemen. I am sorry you were obliged to stay up so late on my account.” He left them bravely encugh, but he had more than one moment of woakness before he could meet his friends. The world seemed unreal and himself the most unreal thing in it. But the night alr acted as a stimulant and helped him to call back his courage. When he en- tered the studio at 1 o'clock he was pared to redeem his promise to be Jolltest fellow of them a.l.” CHAPTER XXXIV. “T'll tell you about it later, dear,” was ;lll that Peggy, pleading, could draw from m. At midnight Mrs. Dan had remonstrated with her. “You must go home, Peggy dear,” ghe sald. “It is disgraceful for you to stay up so late. I went to bed at 8 o'clock the night before I was married.” “‘And fell asleep at four in the morn- smiled Peggy. You are quite mistaken, my dear. I did not fall asleep at all. But I won't allow you to stop a minute longer. It puts rings under the eyes and sometimes they're red the morning after.” “Oh, you dear sweet philosopher,” cried Peggy; “how wise you are. Do you think I need a beauty sleep?”’ “I don't want you to be a sleepy beauty, that's all,” retorted Mrs. Dan. in, “Good Fellow, This Harrison; Says You Grub-Staked Him.” Upon Monty’s return from his trying hour with the lawyers, he had been be- sleged with questions, but he was cleverly evasive. Peggy alone was Insistent; she had curbed her curiosity until they were on the way home, and then she implored him to tell her what had happened. The misery he had endured was as nothing to this reckoning with the woman who had the right to expect falr treatment. His duty was clear, but tne strain had been heavy and it was not easy to meet it. “Peggy, something terrible has happen- ed,” he faltered, uncertain of his course. “Tell me everything, Monty, you can trust me to be brave.” “When I asked you to marry me,” he continued gravely, “it was with the thought that I could give you everything to-morrow. 1 looked for a fortune. I never meant that you should marry a pauper.” “I don't understand. You tried to test my love for you?”’ “No, child, not that. But I was pledged not to speak of the money I expected, and I wanted you so much before 1t came.” “And it has failed you?” she answered. “I can't see that it changes things. I ex- pected to marry a pauper, as you call it. Do you think this could make a differ- ence?” “But you don’'t understand, Peggy. I haven't a penny in the world.” “You hadn’'t a penny when I accepted you,” she replied. “I am not afraid. I belfeve In you. And if you love me I shall not give you up.” “Dearest!” and the carriage was at thas door before another word was uttered. But Monty called to the coachman to drive just once around the block. “Good night, my darling,” he said when they reached home. ‘*‘Sleep till . eight o'clock if you like. There is nothing now in the way of having the wedding at nine, instead of at seven. In fact, I have a reason for wanting my whole fortune .to come to me then. You will be all that 1 have in the world, child, but I am the happlest man alive.” In his room the strain was relaxed and Brewster faced the bitter reality. With- out undressing he threw himself upon the lounge and wondered what the world held for him. It held Peggy at least, he thought, and she was enough. But had he been fair to her? Was he right in ex- acting a sacrifice? His tired brain whirl- ed in the effort to decide. Only one thing was clear—that he could not give her up. The future grew black at the very thought of it. With her he could make things go. but alone it was another ma ter. He would take the plunge and he would justify it. Looking toward the window he saw the black, uneasy night give way to the com- ing day. Haggard and faint he arose from the couch to watch the approach of the sun that is indifferent to wealth and poverty, to gayety and dejection. From far off in the gray light there came the sound of a five o'clock bell. A little later the shrieks of factory whistles were berne to his ears, muffled by distance, but pregnant with the importance of a new day of toil. They were calling him, with all poor men, to the sweat-shop and the forge, to the great mill of life. The new era had begun, dawning bright and clear to disperse the gloom in his soul - Leaning against the casement and ‘wondering where he could earn the first dollar for the Peggy Brewster that was Peggy Gray, he rose to meet it with a fine unflinching fearlessness. Before 7 o'clock he was annnuu and walting. Joe Bragdon joined him a bit later, followed and the min- \ ) { ///:/// ) " ister. The DeMilles appeared without an invitation, but they were not denled. Mrs. Dan sagely shook her head when told that Peggy was still asleep and that the ceremony was oft till 9 o'clock. “Monty, are you golng away?" ssked Dan, drawing him into a corner. “Just a week in the hills,” answered Monty, suddenly remembering the gener- osity of his attorneys. “Come in and see me as soon as you return, old man,” sald DeMille, and Monty knew that a position would be open to him. To Mrs. Dan fell the honor of helping Peggy dress. By the time she had had coffee and was ready to go down she was pink with excitement and had quite forgotten the anxlety which had made the night an age. She had never been prettier than on her wedding morning. Her color was rich, her eyes clear as stars, her woman's body the picture of grace and health. Monty's heart leaped high with love of her. “The prettiest girl in New York by Jove,” gasped Dan DeMille, clutching Bragdon by the arm. “And look at Monty! He's become a new man In the last five minutes,” added Joe. “Look at the glow in his cheeks! By the eternal, he's beginning to look as he did a year ag A clock chimed the hour of 9. CAND AN cae ey ) e ¢ he man who was here yesterday Is in the hall to see Mr. Brewster,” said the mald, a few minutes after the minister had uttered the words that gave Peggy a new name. There was a moment of si- lence, almost of dread. “You mean the fellow with the beard?" asked Monty, uneasily. ‘“Yes, sir. He sent in this letter, beg- ging you to read it at once.” “Shall I send him away, Monty?" de- manded Bragdon, deflantly. “What does he mean by coming at this time?” “I'll read the letter first, Joe.” Every eye was on _Brewster he tore open the envelope. face was expressive. There wonder in it, then Incredulity, then joy. He threw the letter to Bragdon, clasped Peggy in his arms spasmodically, and then, releasing her, dashed for the hall like one bereft of reason. “It's Nopper Harrison!" he cried, and 2 moment later the tall visitor was dragged Into the circle. Bragdon's hands trembled and his voice ‘was not sure as he translated the scrawl, “Nopper” Harrison standing behind him for the gleeful purpose of prompting him when the writing was beyond the range of human intelligence. “Holland House, Sept. 23, 13— “Mr. Montgomery Brewster, My Dear Boy: 8o you thought I had given you the slip, eh? Didn’t think I'd show up here and do my part? Well, I don't blame you; I supposed I've acted like a damned idiot, but so long as it turns out O. K. there’s no harm dome. The wolf won't gnaw very much of a hole in your door, I reckon. This letter Introduces my sec- retary, Mr. Oliver Harrison. He came to me last June, out in Butte, with the pros- pectus of a claim he had staked out up in the mountains. What he wanted was backing and he had such a good show to win out that I went into cahoots with him. He's got a mine up there that is dead sure to yleld mfiilions. Seems as though he has to give you half of the yield, though. Says you grub-staked him. Good fellow, this #arrison. Needed a secretary and man of affairs, so took him into my office. You can see that he did not take me up into the mountains to murder me, as the papers say this morn- ing. Dafned rot. Nobody’s business but my own if I concluded to come east with- out telling everybody in Butte about it. “I am here and so is the money. Got in last night. Harrison came from Chi- cago a day ahead of me. I went to office of G. & R, at eight this morning. ' Found them in a hell of a stew. Thought I'd Bkipped out or been murdered. Money all gone, everything gone to smash. That's what they thought. Don't blame ‘em much. You see it was this way: I con- cluded to follow out the terms of the will and dellver the goods in person. I as His was got together all of Jim Sedgwick's stuff and did a lot of other fool things, I suppose, and hiked off to New York. You'll find about seven millfon dollars’ worth of stuff to your credit when you indorse the certifled checks down at Grant & Ripley’'s, my boy. It's all here and In the banks. “It's a mighty decent sort of a wedding gift, I reckon. “The lawyers told me all about you. Told me all about last night, and that you were going to be margied this morn- ing. By this time you're comparatively happy with the bride, I guess. I looked over your report and took a few peeps at the receipts. They’re all right. I'm sat- isfie® The money is yours. Then I got to thinking that maybe you wouldn’t care to come down at nine o'clock, especially as you are just recovering from the joy of being married, so I settled with the law- yers and they’ll settle with you. If you have nothing in particular to do this af' ernoon about two o’clock, I'd suggest that you come to the hotel and we'll dispose of a few formalities that the law requires of us. And you can give me some les- sons in spending money. I've got a little I'd like to miss some morning. As for your ability as a business man, I have this to say: Any man who can spend a million a year and have nothing to show for it don’t need a recommendation from anybody. He's in g class by himself and it's a business that no one else can give him a pointer about. The best test of your real capacity, my boy, is the way you listed your property for taxation. It's a true sign of business sagacity. That would have decided me in your favor if everything else had been against you. “I'm sorry you've been worried about all this. You have gone through a good deal In g year and you have been roasted from Hades to breakfast by everybody. Now it's your turn to laugh. It will sur- prise them to read the ‘extras’ to-day. I've done my duty to you In more ways than one. I've got myself interviewed by the newspapers and to-day they'll print the whole truth about Montgomery Brew- ster and his millions. T.ey've got the Sedgwick will and my story and the old town will bofl with excitement. I guess you'll be squared before the world, all right. You'd better stay indoors for awhile, though, if you want to have a quiet honeymoon. “I don’t like New York. Never did. Am going back to Butte to-night. Out there we have real sky-scrapers and they are not bullt of brick. They are two or three miles high and they have gold In them. There is real grass In the lowlands and we have valleys that make Central Park look like a half an inch of nothing. Prob- ably you and Mrs. Brewster were going to take a wedding trip, so why not go West with me in my car? We start at 7:45 p. m. and I won’t bother you. Then you can take it anywhere you like. Sia~ cerely yours, “SWEARENGEN JONES. “P. 8. I forgot to say there is no such man as Golden. I bought your mines and ranches with my own money. You may buy them back at the same figures. I'd advise you to do it. They’'ll be worth twice as much In a year. I hope you'll forgive the whims of an old man who has liked you from the start. 3 s (The End.) SN // S 7 ) << 52 L — e \:‘.\\ 7 N\ WA i, = S 7 5 -i\ 2z Sz ] e ) — _— ST