Evening times-Republican. [volume] (Marshalltown, Iowa) 1890-1923, 1920-10-02
The
!, Substitute
Millionaire
By
HULBERTFOOT
CHAPTER I.

CHAPTER l.
On a certain morning, just As on six
! mornings in the week (harring holi-
days. and fifty weeks in the year,
Jack Norman wormed his way into
a crowded subway local at FTftieth
street, and. prcnping himself against
he end of a cross seat, opened his
soaper But this morning, like every
body else in the train. he approached
the headlines with an unusual thrill
Of interest. for an immense sensation
was in process of being unrolled in
the press.
Two days before, Silas Gtde. the
4 millionaire miser and usurer, had
T been blown to pieces in the street by
bOmb.-f The assassin, arrested
proved to bes not one of those who
had g1dsNance against the old
money lenders( there We're supposed
ato be many; but maniac of
anafchistic opportunities. His name
was Emil Jansen He was already
Il criminal insane.
The main facts of the case having
been given In previous issues. space
LA the paper To-day was largely de-
voted to anecdotes illustrating the
extraordinary eccentricities of the
dead man. 1t was said thut with an
income OF perhaps six millions a
year. s,he spent no more than six
hundred. He bought his clothes at
an inn1nl grant outfitters' or Washing
ton street, and even so had not had
81 new. suit In two years. To keep
4 himsel from spending money 1t was
: his habit to go about with empty
pockets ana SGSrow what few cents
he needed from bootblacks, newsboys
] and appleWomer to whom he was
well knoWn.sA But he was scrupulous
E IN repaying these debts Every day,
eNens hen he had become Old and
feeble he. turned up at the office of
a certain corporation for the sake of
a free lunch provided to the di-
rectors. tho he had to walk a mile
from the Wall street district where
all his business was transacted. 1t
was at the door Of this office he had
met his end. And SO on And SO on
Silas clyde died a bachelor, and
4 had left no kin so far as was known.
His wealth was said to he well in
excess of a hundred million dollars.
The paper gave a tempting list of the
giit-edge securities he was supposed
to OWN. but nothing was known for
Stlre. for tho continually engaged in
litigation. he had left no personal
attorney; he had not sufficiently
i trusted any man. No one could say.
now, where he had kept his wealth
or how he had intended TO dispose
of 1t.
Young Jack Norman read of the
millions with the kind OF aching
gusto that hungry man pictures a
good dinner. Jacks earnings were
twelve dollars a week. He knew lit
tie about sociology or economics, but
he could not but feel a dina dissatis-
faction with the scheme of things
that restricted him, with all youths
capacity for living largely, to twelve
collars weekly, while it provided the
old man with the tastes OF hermit
crab. with hundred thousand.
Twelve dollars q week meant that
Jacks still bOylsh appetite daily had
ito be less than satisfied by the fare
of a second rate boarding house; it
meant that he had to wear cheap
clothes when the instinct OF his years
was to array himseH like Solomon !:
G it meant that his lip, must curl with
Sepyy as the pleasures of the town
passed him by; hardest Of all to
tear. it meant that tho. joys of hon.
orable courtship were denied him. A
fellow must have money to take a
girl out in town. sn4...
jacks case was not peculiar. The
same expression of aullen usefulness
4 might have been read in many a
young face on the same train. What
distinguished this race from the
others was a latent fire i'll the eyes
which suggested tf,dt, given the OPP
portHnity, the possessor had the ca
pacity to play a larger part in life
than twelve dollars a week permitted
He got off at Worth street and
made his way East to Center where
he worked az bookkeeper In Fishers
sash and blind factory. Walking
the street, like many another young
head that morning, his was light
with dreams.
nIf I had Silas Gydes money ]
wouldn't be pounding the concrete
like this. I'd be fluffing down to
Wall street in my Rolls-F,oyce. Or
my yacht would be putting me
ashore at the Battery. Or a special
train up from Lakewood. First thing
I'd do would be to tell Fisher ITO GO
to Hell. Oh, that would be worth a
million!
I'D say to Fisher: Who do you
thinlo you are. you little two-spot
. bankrupt carpenter with your bust
Aess in your wife's name! One would
nix you were William X. Astorbilt,
airs you give yourself. Why I
id buy you out for the prico of
t spend for a meal!'''
- he turned In at the door of
er's place Jacks eyes involuntar-
ought O window in the establish
Z OF the hardware jobber oppo-
AS present the window was
ntless; later 1t would be sancti-
l. by chestnut head bending over
typewriter. Jacks dreams were
Arted into another channel
IF had Silas Gyde's money she
couldn't have to pay for her own
anch when she eats with me. And
could take her out nights. OH!
automobile. dress-suit, box seats at
he opera, supper at the Bienven,,
md a dance! Lord. And they say old
ayde lived on my salary"
The offices of the Fisher factory
we're on the second floor. AS Jack
zurned in from the hall. Fisher him.
self was standing at the door of his
private office; hands in pockets
cigar rolling between thick lips, hat
lvon the back of his head, on his face
the customary brutal sheer.
you're latef" he raSped "Can't