The San Francisco call. [volume] (San Francisco [Calif.]) 1895-1913, 1903-09-13
CHAPTER xxx.

Monty, you are breaking my heart, .
was the first and only appeal Mrs. Gray
ever made to him. 1t was two days be-
fore the tWenty-third and 1t did not come
until after the secondhand store" men
had ,uriven away from her door with the
bulk of his clothing in their wagon. She
and Peggy had seen little Of Brewster,
and mis- nervous restlessness alarmed
them. His return was the talk OF the
town. Men tried to shun him, but he per-
sistently wasted some portion Of his for
tune his unwilling subjects. When he
gave $1,000 in cash to a Home for News
boys, even his friends jumped to the con-
clusion that he was mad. 1t was his only
gil. to charity and he excused his motive
in giving at this time by recalling Sedg-
wick's injunction to give sparingly to
charity" Everything was gone from his
thoughts but the overpowering eagerness
to get rid Of few troublesome thou
sands. He felt like an outeast, a pariah,
a hated object that infected every
one with whom he came in contact.
Sleep was almost impossible, eating
was a farce; he gave elaborate suppers
which he did not touch. Already his best
friends were discussing the advisability
of putting him in a sanitarium where his
mind might be preserved. His case was
looked upon as peculiar in the history of
= IL
no one could imagine comparison.
Mrs. Gray met him in the hallway Of
her home as he was nervously pocketing
the $50 he had received in payment for his
clothes. Her face was like that of a ghost.
He tried to answer her reproOf, but the
words would not come, and he fed to his
room, locking the door after him. He
was at work there on the transaction that
was to record the total disappearance OF
Edwin Brewster's million-his final report
to Swearengen Jones, executor OF James
Sedgwick's Will. On the floor were bun
dies of packages, carefully wrapped and
tied, and on the table was the long sheet
of white paper on which the report was
being drawn. The packages contained re-
ceipts-thousands upon thousands of them
for the dollars he had spent in less than
a year. They were there for the inspec-
ton of SweaTengen Jones, faithfully and
honorably kept-as If the old Westerner
would go ever in detail the countless doc
uments.
hour. On the long sheet lay the record Of
his ruthlessness, the epitaph Of a million.
in his pocket was exactly $40 0S. This was
to last him for less than forty-eight hours
and-then 1t would go to join the rest 1t
was his plan to visit Grant & Ripley on
the afternoon of the 22d and to read the
report to them in anticipation Of the
meeting with Jones on the day following.
Just before noon, after his encounter
with Mrs. Gray, he came down stairs and
boldly for the first time in days, sought
out Peggy. There was the old smile in
his eyes and the old heartiness in his
voice when he came upon her in the IL
brary. She was not reading. Books,
pleasures and all the joys Of life had fed
from her mind, and she thought only Of
the disaster that was coming to the boy
she had always loved His heart smote
him as he looked into the deep. somber.
frightened eyes, running over with love
and fear for him.
Peggy, do you think I'm worth any
thing more from your mother? Do you
think she will ask me to live here any
longer?" he asked, steadily, taking her
hand in his. Hers was cold, his as hot as
fire. you know what you said away off
yonder somewhere, that she'd let me live
here if 1 deserved it. 1 am a pauper
get down to drudgery again. VIII she
turn me out? You know 1 must have
somewhere to live. Shall II be the poor
house? Do you remember saying one day
that I'd end in the poorhouse?''
She was looking into his eyes. dreading
what might be seen in them. But there
was no CLEAN of insanity there, there was
no fever; instead there was the quiet
smile of the man who is satisfied with
himself and the world. His voice bore
traces Of emotion. but it was the voice OF
one who has perfect control of his wits
rs 1t all-gone, Monty?" she asked, al
most in a whisper.
Here is the residue Of my estate" he
said, opening his purse with steady fin
gers. I'm back to where I left or
year ago. The million is gone and my
wings are clipped" Her face was white,
her heart was in the clutch OF ice. How
could he be so calm about it when for
him she was suffering such agony? Twice
she started to speak, but her voice failed
her. She turned slowly and walked to
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