The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1903-02-08
The Expatriated American
story by B0mget who may be regarded type

time to vanish in the mass of people crowd
ing about the tables.
l was no longer thinking of the money,
assure you. 1t was the dishonesty of the
act that made me persist With eyes sweep
ing the seething multitude L said: But he
was here only moment ago; he must
be" | could not finish. for shoulder to
shoulder with me stood the thief, his hand
holding my arm in a powerful grip.
Thoroughly surprised by such audacity
I stared al him. His face was the color of
death. A young fellow. too; that he was
an American, like myself 1 knew by in
stinct. Ten looked deep into his pleading
eyes. No. / could not prosecute this man.
though stern justice might demand it, And
turned to the croupier and detectives who
had gathered and said: Never mind; it
was my own fault. l ought to have kept
better lookout"
You are willing to drop the matter?''
asked the croupier, quickly.
Eyes" Mr.. Blanc's official set the wheel
in motion again, and 1 felt my arm re-
leased 1 expected my erring countryman
to vouchsafe some explanation of his con-
duct now. but not word came over his
lips. He simply remained at my side, mute
but nervy.
Get out of the Casino, you young ras-
CAL I said, angrily, when we were out of
hearing of the crowd.
No remonstrance, no protestations. But
his pale face blushed and tears came to his
eyes.
That was the last 1 saw of him until day
before yesterday. at Christie's.
II had dropped into the auction room,
not to buy. only to pass idle hour. AS 1
took my seat Psyche was put up and as
l had room for such a picture in my IL
brary. 1 risked 20 guineas.
a. 49, cried my neighbor. so vovciferated
another bid 100 just to show those fell
lows that / was not to be outdone. and
the usual battle was on. When, In less than
a quarter of an hour, the price climbed
into the thousands, / decided to withdraw.
Even a millionaire must not have every
thing he wants, and l could do very we'll
without the picture.
"As rose to go 1 noticed man looking
hard at me. His face was not familiar, but
his eyes were.
II thought moment I had seen those
eyes before. Alas, he was the Monte Carlo
thief!
Now all came back to me; face and
figure were the same, only broader. more
| alert, more manly in every respect. His
clothes were of the finest. his jewelry.
though transformations, that of a man of
wealth. l felt like speaking 70 him, but
| just then he moved away and addressed
his whole attention to the auctioneer.
100 quineas The bidding got still
more furious the moment my Monaco ac-
| quaintance entered the contest. 900
| guineas for the last time cried the auc-
| tioneer Down came his hammer. What
name. please?'
(" No matter, 1 shall pay cash.
81 was dumfounded." continued the ex-
patriated one. "but still greater surprise
awaited me when I came from the opera
and found 'Psyche's Wedding and this
| letter.
| My friend took several pages of letter pa
per bearing the imprint of the Hotel Savoy
from his pocket, and, tearing off the sigma
ture. handed it to me with the words, $50
Observation-Disclosures. every word of it,
This Is what read: Dear Sir-Perhaps
you have long forgotten about the small
amount a certain young man owes you
since our first meeting in Monte Carlo.
never did. Allow me to say that at the
| time of which speak had not sou and
| that even the money with which Travelled
| to the gambling place was not my own.
| Your generosity enabled me to turn over a
| new leaf and your sharp words urged me
| on to an honest life of work and energy.
| After becoming your debtor I returned to
| London without delay, fully resolved to be
| henceforth a worthy, straight business
| man. 1 worked hard and was successful
| successful beyond my merits-beyond my
fondest dreams, and in all these years
experienced but one regret. one great dis
| appointment: was unable to ascertain the
name of my kind benefactor, your name,
| SIR To-day 1 met you and learned that
both Of US come from the same glorious
country. I had always thought as much.
! but the certainty filled me with unbounded
delight.
LAS a grateful countrymen. then, allow
me to offer you this little picture, in which
/ you seemed to be so much interested All
my success in life / owe to you. If it had
not been for your magnanimity and stern
reproof my future would have been
| wrecked then and there.
Unfortunately. the price of this little
present is known to you, but, believe me-
| it is strictly within the limits of my actual
| Indebtedness. Here are the figures: You
4 started me with a working capital of $50;
| / have carried 1t on my books for twelve
years. When 1 left Colorado it had in
| creased to $500. When / began work in the
| African diamond fields you were my part
| ner and at this moment you own stock in
my business to the amount paid for that
water color. This makes us even-on our
| books, but the debt of gratitude l owe
you 1 can never hope to pay If lived a
hundred years.
| Believe me, etc., etc"
1 have subsequently learned that the
man who wrote this is an honored African
merchant-prince of the day, the possessor
| of untold millions, every sou of which was
gained by his unlimited energy, enterprise
| and application to business.
Really. 1 agree with the expatriated one
who said as we entered Grosvenor square ::
"Only American could have written
so frank and manly a letter. Only an
American could have made a momentary
fallacy the stepping-stone for genuine,
honest success" PAUL BOURGET.
London, January, 1903.
NTTCTNAY NOTES