The Scranton tribune. [volume] (Scranton, Pa.) 1891-1910, 1902-06-21
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AiWell-BalanCed Mind.

Besides, you have already had your five
minutes. Let us consider the subject
closed"
Again he resumed the perusal of his
book. By-and-by 1t slipped from his
hand to the carpet. His eyes were
shut, his mouth open. A stertorous
noise issuing therefrom announced that
the philosopher was in n profound
slumber.
He awoke at length. to find the splen-
did footman addressing him apolOgeti-
cally.
"Eh? What? What the deuce is it?"
inquired Draycot Dabber rubbing his
ewes.
"a gentleman to see you. SIR" ex-
plained james. "He apologies, sir for
calling at this hour, but he seq as his
business is rather pertikler"
WHO is he? What name does he
give?" demanded Draycot Dabber.
"Sez as he's a stranger, sir. and you
wouldn't know his name," replied
James. But he's Just been readin'
of your book, sir. and wishes to see you
In connection with it. That's the mes
sage he give, SIR
MY book?" (The philosopher smiled.
His book? Some admirer, no doubt:
some earnest seeker after truth who,
impressed by that mastery exposition,
desired to consult the master thereon)
'Show him up, James," he said.
| James withdrew, presently returning
and ushering in the stranger. The lat
| ter was tall, middle-aged man. Of
handsome appearance, well dressed in
his style, which was, however. rather
! the style of Bohemia than of Mayfair
ia
"Come! Look at me. Don't you know
| me?'
csc, no! The chestnut dodge Of
imaginary old acquaintanceship,"
thought Draycot Dabber)
He replied stiffly:
"You are under some delusion, sir.
never set eyes upon you before"
The stranger laughed.
"Well, 1 daresay ] am good bit
changed" he said. Twenty years at
my time of life do make a difference
especially when they've been spent
among the niggers in Central Africa"
"You-Tom?' (The words fell with
strange, almost unnatural sound
from his parched Nps.) impossible!
Tom was killed in Africa fifteen years
ago.
"Oh, no, he wasn't. My pal Jevons
was the one who was killed. 1 was car
ried off alive by the nggers. 1 only
managed to escape six months ago. and
arrived in London the day before yes
terdIy. Yesterday morning l went to
see my solicitors. and it was then +
heard of my uncle's will and my own
supposed death. Made pretty consid-
cradle tlutter in their office. my reap
pearance did, l can tell you. 1 asked
them what I was to do. They advised
me to place myself in their hands at
once. But 1 said that I'd rather see
you before taking any action and dis
cuss the position of affairs with you in
a friendly spirit. l was coming last
night: only feeling what shock it
would be to you, put the disagreeable
interview off. Luckily. however. on my
return journey from the solicitors, l
saw a copy of your book in an Under
ground bookstall and Immediately
bought it. I have been reading 1t all
the morning, with the result that quite
a load has been lifted from my mind.
OF course, if you hadn't been phil
osopher, with a very proper and ad-
nlissable contempt for money, 1 should
have found my task uncommonly PAIN
full. But as it is, 1 haven't minded
breaking the news to you in the least,
any more than you, l am sure. have
minded having it broken to you,' said
Cousin Tom, cheerfully.
The philosopher still sat staring at
him. appalled, and helpless. He now rec
ognized in this midde-aged man va
rious facial characteristics of that boy
cousin (whom he had last seen twenty
years ago) which left him no room for
doubt on the score of his genuine iden-
tity. Yes, this was Tom. right enough,
the legal possessor of all his Draycot
Dabber's) money. Under such circum-
stances, he felt defiant tone was at
once useless and ill-advised. Perhaps
If he were conciliatory. diplomatic, he
might be able to make some sort of
terms with his cousin.
Therefore, forcing his lips into
smlle--it was very sickly attempt-he
said:
Pardon me, Tom. I spoke hastily.
This is a bit of a shock. you know"
'Oh, don't mention it. That's all
right. But you'll soon get over the
shock, of course. What a lucky thing
for you that you despise money!"
II never said that I-er-eXactly de-
spscd it," answered Draycot Dabber
But you said-ln fact, you proved
most conclusively--that money has
nothing to do with happiness. A most
just conclusion, in which entirely con-
cur. BY the way, is your niece Selma,
whom as I remember as tiny tot in
socks and bare legs, still living with
yOu?"
Yes" said Draycot Dabber. But"
he added, anxious for his own reasons
to change that subject, las l was about
to observe"
I'm quite longing to see her again."
interrupted Cousin Tom. rs she AS
pretty as she then bade fair to be?
Tell you what, Draycot-Tll stop and
dine with you tonight and resume my
acquaintance with Miss Selma"
I'm sorry to say I'm dining out to-
night with Lord X.," answered Dray-
cot Dabber. quickly, thankful indeed to
have this real excuse. But any other
evening""
Besides" he added desperately at
would be such shock to Selma to in
troduce you to her suddenly like this,
and"
"Oh, If that's ALL" interposed the ir-
repressible Tom, II needn't be intro
duced to her under my own name Say
I'm an old friend of yours, and call me
Mr.. Jones, or anything else you like.
Yes. by Jove! That will be rather fun
to make my own niece's acquaintance
In the character of a stranger"
And thus it had to be. Selma was
sent for, and her Uncle Tom was in
troduced to her by Draycot Dabber as
"Mr. Jones, an old friend of mine, who