Wauwatosa news. [volume] (Wauwatosa, Wis.) 1900-1948, 1905-09-09

lie was chilly, too, and felt craving
/ for hot food.
Then he beheid his wealth. lie began
to tremble violently and tears rolled
down his cheeks.
Awe-stricken. he whispered to himself.
And might have died tonight, might
! have died. and no one, not even myself
have been the better for my having
lived
/ lie took the notes, the bags Of
gold and the documents from the safe.
| laid them i'll a heap at his feet, and be-
gan TO reckon his future. 1t was easily
done. for each bag was stamped with
/ 1880" while each bundle Of securities
4 had slip of paper attached bearing its
/ approximate value. Besides, he found
no difficulty III counting now.
The grand total came to a few hun
dreds, and odd over eighty thousand
pounds.
Il must leave this accursed house at
once" he said suddenly. Il must lose
no time, or | may be too late"
Within an hour he left the house in a
cab with a couple of ancient portman-
teams. In his pocket he carried letter
addressed to his eharwoman and con-
/ tanning instructions for her not TO call
i until notified to do so, which he intend
/ ed to post at the first opportunity The
| letter also contained ten ID notes.
! 1t was past midnight when he reached
| nue-the name of which had somehow
occurred to him as he stepped into the
cab-but he managed to get "A fairly
| good supper before retiring. He slept
little. for he had many plans to make
I for the morrow. Still he arose in the
/ morning with nothing worse than a feel
/ ing of tiredness, which, however, seemed
! to affect his memory rather strangely.
/ For instance, he could not remember
4 where he had come from the previous
! night; and as the day wore on he was
| occasionally perplexed regarding other
| matters OF the past. The bunch of
/ complicated keys in his pocket puzzled
4 him. and when he happened upon the
| doctors prescription i'll another pocket,
i he could not recollect the visit to the
i physician. Most of all the revolver in
! his hip pocket troubled him. He did not
1 know what to do with it. and he was
| afraid to unload it lest it discharge.
/ For the time he decided to lock it in a
drawer in his bedroom.
i he spent the forenoon in studying the
! newspapers, and in the afternoon he
/ paid visit to the poorest quarters of
/ the East End, returning, with white
| and troubled face. to play with his din
| ner and to spend the evening, locked in
his room.
i \ few days later people began to call
j upon him-prosDer0us looking gentlemen
aud fine lades-and earnest conversa-
4 tons took place in the elegant sitting
room he had engaged in addition to his
Bedroom Other men and women,
Ipinched and sad, began to watch for his
i coming to their miserable dwellings,
/ And nearly three months went past.
i
One evening toward the end of May
Mr.. Breen gave little dinner party in
| his private sitting room. Ten ladies and
1 gentlemen, all keenly interested in phil
anthrori" work, were present and even
/ those OF them who were high in the land
j treated their gentlefaced host with nm
/ felgned respect and seemed to regard
/ him with sincere affection as well as nd
i miration. Although the weather had an
! expectedly become oppressively hot, the
4 spirits Of the guests did not suffer lie
/ preston. Only the host appeared some
/ what wearied when, the dinner itself Le-
| ing over, the time came for him TO OK
i plain new scheme of charity which ne
had lately been deeply considering, and
which all present were eager to hear
| about.
! / must ask you to pardon my leaving
you for moment, my friends he said.
suddenly Il find | have left my notes
on the scheme in my room''
With word of thanks for the per-
mission readily granted. and a pleasant
smile to all, Mr.. Breen left the room.
lie is wonderful man." remarked a
countess. is it really the case that he
has given 100000 to the children's hos
rital in WhitechapelY'
He handed the money to us yester-
day., said an old man with kindly
twmkling eyes. And it was only first
! installment, he assured me- But he has
made so many magnificent gifts recently
| that one fears he must soon exhaust him
| self. Truly it was Providence that al
| lowed John Breen to become rich
man."
"He ought to be Sir John at least.
| said pretty woman. though ! fancy
| he would scorn a title"
Meantime Mr.. BrCon was in his bed
room searching for the slips of paper on
which he had set down the details of his
! scheme.
| He could not remember where he had
put them. Drawer after drawer he tried
without success. AS he drew open TIE
/ last drawer a vivid flash of lightning lit
up the chamber-he had not thought it
necessary to switch on the electric iigh..
as he had sufficient light from the open
| door-and almost Immediately 4 terrific
| peal crashed overhead.
! John Brcens fingers closed on some
| thing in the drawer, and presently q
! look of amaZement overspread his coua
| tenance.
The philanrhropists waited in vain for
/ his temperance.
Drenched to the skin, he sat in his
draggled evening clothes. staring at the
empty safe a creature of utter despair.
He had a faint glimmering that he had
given away his wealth. but to whom he
could not remember. He tried very hard
TO remember.
The glimmering went ont, and he could
not remember anything at all. He only
knew that he had no money left.
No money left? lie searched his peck
cts and found few notes. sovereigns
and some change. Thirty pounds odd.
Also revolver.
| The surgeon who examined him after
ward directed n colleagues attention to
the scar on his right temple.