, 1906-01-17

Mrs. Gran met him in the hdJJlUdU.
to record the total disappearance of
Edwin Brewster's million-his final re-
port to Swearengen Jones, executor of
James Sedgwick's will. On the floor
were bundles 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 receipts-thou-
sands upon thousands of them-for the
dollars he had spent in less than a
year. They were there for the inspec-
ton of Swearengen Jones, faithfully
and honorably kept, as if the old west
erner would go over in detail the count
less documents.
He had the accounts balanced up to
the hour. On the long sheet lay the
record of his ruthlessness, the epitaph
Of a million. In his pocket was exact
ly $79.0S. This was to last him for
less than forty-eight hours, and then
it 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 follow
ing.
Just before noon, after his encounter
with Mrs. Gray, he came downstairs
and boldly, for the first time in days,
sought out Peggy. There vas the old
smile in his eyes and the old heartiness
in his voice when he came upon her
in the library. 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, fright
ened 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 l deserved it. |
am a pauper, Peggy, and I'm afraid
I'LL may have to get down to drudg
cry again. Will she turn me out? You
know | must have somewhere to live.
Shall it be the p%oorhouse? Do you re-
member saying one day that I'd end
in the poorhouseY"
She was looking into his eyes, dread
ing 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
1t was the voice of one who has perfect
control of his wits.
as it all-gone. Monty?" she asked,
almost in a whisper.
Here is the residue Of my estate"
he said, opening his purse with steady
fingers. I'm back to where | left off a
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 the window,
keeping her back to the man who
smiled so sadly and yet so heartlessly.
81 didn't want the million, Peggy"
he went on. You think as the rest
do, I know, that l was a fool to act as
l did. 1t would be rank idiocy on my
part to blame you any more than the
others for thinking as you do. APP
p%earances are against me; the proof is
overwhelming. A year ago l was call
ed a man; today they are stripping me
of every claim to that distinction. The
world says 1 am a fool, a dolt, almost a
criminal, but no one believes l am a
man. Peggy, will you feel better to-
ward me if 1 tell you that 1 am going
to begin life all yer again? 1t will
be a new Monty Brewster that starts