MILLIONAIRE 
 
 EDWIN-BATEMAN-MORRIS
 
 V 
 
 ^B^^ ^3B^ 
 
 WILL YOU GO WITH All- f
 
 The 
 
 MILLIONAIRE 
 
 'By 
 EDWIN BATEMAN MORRIS 
 
 Author of "Blue Anchor Inn" 
 
 Illustrated by Coles Phillips and 
 Ralph L. Boyer 
 
 THE PENN PUBLISHING 
 
 COMPANY PHILADELPHIA 
 
 1913
 
 COPYRIGHT 
 1913 BY 
 THE PENN 
 PUBLISHING 
 COMPANY 
 
 First printing, June, 1913 
 
 The Millionaire
 
 To my small daughter 
 
 whose occasional silences made 
 
 this book possible 
 
 2^ r) 0i 
 
 f^f^f** ij*
 
 Illustrations 
 
 PAGE 
 
 " WILL You Go WITH ME?" . . Frontispiece 
 " ARE You PLAYING AGAIN ?" .... 19 
 FOR ONCE THEY WERE IN ACCORD . . .155 
 " IT MAKES ME FEEL So YOUNG "... 201 
 I HOPED You WOULD COME " . . . . 293 
 
 The Millionaire.
 
 The Millionaire 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 OLD Hampton Graham never felt well in the 
 morning. He maintained a fairly consistent 
 cynical view of the world all day long, but in the 
 morning he was thoroughly irascible, as every gen- 
 tleman should be. 
 
 "Well," he growled, knitting his fine bushy eye- 
 brows and glancing round the breakfast table as if 
 daring contradiction, " now that we have our dear 
 eldest daughter happily divorced, I suppose we 
 ought to praise the Lord for His goodness." 
 
 " And aren't you satisfied ? " asked his wife, 
 mildly. 
 
 " Satisfied ? What is there in it to satisfy anybody ? 
 A decree of limited divorce, forbidding her to marry 
 again in New York ; and a whole page of scandal 
 aired in the paper every morning for a month. Bah ! 
 Satisfied." 
 
 9
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 Mrs. Graham poured a cup of coffee from the 
 handsome coffee-pot, now worn until its delicate 
 chasings were almost obliterated, but said nothing. 
 
 " Now what has she ? " pursued her husband. 
 " Money enough to keep her, no home, no position, 
 no chance to marry again. She might better have 
 taken up millinery as her Cousin Geraldine did. 
 Jeanette," he broke off, irritably, to the maid, " at 
 least let me have one of the rolls before removing 
 them." 
 
 " I was getting hot ones, sir." 
 
 " I don't like hot ones. They are indigestible, 
 unhealthy, barbarous." 
 
 Graham took up the newspaper which lay beside 
 his chair and, spreading it out on the table, tilted 
 his nose upward so as to obtain a view of the print 
 through his glasses. 
 
 " I think I gave myself the pleasure of remarking 
 at the time Elizabeth's engagement was announced," 
 he observed, after he had glanced at the head-lines, 
 " that she would have done well to marry more 
 brains and less money." 
 
 "But, father," broke in his daughter Madeleine, 
 " it isn't always possible for a girl to have exactly 
 
 what she wants in the way of a husband. If I could 
 
 10
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 have had a combination of Apollo, Demosthenes 
 and Croesus simply by lying awake nights thinking 
 about it, I should have been married by now." 
 
 " No doubt," grumbled her father, " no doubt. 
 My dear," he observed to his wife, " the rolls are 
 stone cold." 
 
 " You said you did not want them hot" 
 
 " But the happy medium ! " he exclaimed, exasper- 
 ated, " the happy medium ! Neither cold nor hot. 
 Can you not imagine rolls in such a state ? " 
 
 Mrs. Graham smiled dimly. Her husband took 
 off his eye-glasses and held them oracularly by the 
 ring. 
 
 " The trouble with society to-day is," he said, at- 
 tacking the subject firmly, " there are too many sons 
 of rich men ; too many idle, purposeless rakes, roll- 
 ing around in their motor cars, drinking at their 
 clubs and casually marrying and divorcing our young 
 women. And the difficulty is that these are all the 
 young women have to choose from unless they 
 wish to marry their chauffeurs." 
 
 " That is exactly what I have been saying," cried 
 Madeleine. 
 
 "Well, well, perhaps you have. But the fact 
 
 remains that the whole social structure is crum- 
 
 ii
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 bling crumbling, I say, and all for the lack of fellows 
 with some aim in life something to do besides 
 dancing their heads off all night long when they 
 ought to be sleeping, and sleeping all day when they 
 ought to be down-town in an office. I maintain," 
 he continued, " that every young man inheriting a 
 million dollars or more should be compelled by law 
 to earn his living for one year before he comes into 
 possession of the money in order to learn the value 
 of an earned dollar and the importance of conserving 
 wealth instead of disbursing it." 
 
 Graham felt in his pocket and discovered a cigar, 
 from which he carefully cut the end. He could not 
 personally be interested in whether society crumbled 
 or not, for the fallen fortunes of the Grahams made 
 it impossible for them to be an active part of that 
 structure. The daughters went everywhere, because 
 they were beautiful and therefore indispensable. But 
 Mr. and Mrs. Graham were no longer of importance 
 or value to the fashionable world. It entertained 
 Graham, however, still to consider himself so ; to be 
 alarmed at the worms that flourished in the bud ; to 
 grow excited over the invasion of tailors, antique 
 furniture dealers and other merchants into the streets 
 once sacred to the first families of the city, and to 
 
 12
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 deplore the admission of certain new people, just as 
 he had years ago when his social orbit revolved 
 nearer the sun. 
 
 " The idea might be a practical one," he went on, 
 " if it could be tried. As an example, take any one 
 of the very rich young men who are starting out on 
 their spending careers take this young Morgan 
 Holt, for instance. Thirty millions to fling around 
 as he sees fit. Think of it ! Do you suppose he 
 would not be made a more fit and respectable citizen 
 if he had to spend at least a part of his life in learn- 
 ing that a dollar comes hard when you are earning 
 it unassisted? And don't you know that in five 
 years he will have had to try every form of amuse- 
 ment there is to kill the time on his hands ? Morgan 
 Holt is a shining example of the rich man's son who 
 knows nothing of the struggles of the world, and 
 who is utterly unfitted, by his inexperience, for busi- 
 ness, or politics, or a profession." 
 
 It is doubtful if Graham believed very much that 
 he was in the habit of saying when he found himself 
 on a congenial subject. All he needed was a new 
 train of thought which he could dress up plausibly 
 and talk on indefinitely, mainly for the pleasure of 
 hearing his own flow of words. But on this occasion 
 
 13
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 his daughter had been absorbed in his conversation 
 more especially since Morgan Holt's name had 
 been mentioned. Quite contrary to her usual cus- 
 tom, she had listened with grave attention ; her full 
 red lips slightly parted, showing her white even teeth, 
 her round chin resting on her hand, and her bright, 
 gray eyes lifting now and then, with much serious- 
 ness, to her father's face. 
 
 Graham folded up his paper, pushed back his 
 chair, and rose heavily from the table. 
 
 "What kind of a man would Morgan Holt be," he 
 concluded, waving his cigar in the air, " as the hus- 
 band of a woman of brains as the husband of Made- 
 leine here, for instance ? " 
 
 His wife laughed softly. 
 
 " Better be careful, Hampton," she said ; " the 
 papers this morning say that's exactly what he is go- 
 ing to be." 
 
 Her husband threw his cigar in the grate. 
 
 " H'mph," he snorted, by way of comment, and 
 turned on his heel. 
 
 At the door he stopped and faced part way round. 
 
 " Well," he grumbled, " is it so, Madeleine ? " 
 
 " Too soon to guess," she returned, non-commit- 
 tally.
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 He tried to cover his satisfaction with an appear- 
 ance of irritability. 
 
 "Particular cases, of course," he growled, "are 
 exceptions to the rule." 
 
 But Madeleine was very thoughtful.
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 THE lithe, spare young gentleman standing at 
 the service line was Morgan Holt, himself. He 
 was not the most spectacular tennis player in that 
 tournament at all. The only way to account for the 
 huge gallery that crowded the side-lines was that he 
 was Morgan Holt, and Morgan Holt was the name 
 of the young man who had just inherited thirty 
 millions, when his father two months before had un- 
 expectedly released his grip on the world and de- 
 parted this life. The slight young man was the 
 head of his house. He had all that this world could 
 provide money, position, power, good looks and 
 the mothers of a hundred good-looking girls at his 
 feet. 
 
 There were the mothers, occupying space beside 
 the court. With them were many daughters, re- 
 splendent in beautiful, expensive, hand-made, hand- 
 embroidered, hand-fastened clothes, which made the 
 side-lines glitter with all the colors of a bed of nas- 
 turtiums. But if there were a hundred maidens 
 
 there, ninety-and-nine of them, questioned intimately, 
 
 16
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 would have had to admit that they could lay no 
 claim to the slightest shred of proprietorship over 
 the young man on the tennis court, whom their 
 mothers watched. The hundredth, who had just 
 joined the throng, sat in the background in her ten- 
 nis clothes and talked, with splendid unconcern, to a 
 cluster of young men who had second-hand ideas to 
 exchange. Her name was Madeleine Graham. 
 
 An occasion of this sort always found things ar- 
 ranged in this manner : a score of girls, attracting 
 spasmodic attention from men who flitted about from 
 flower to flower, sitting together ready at an in- 
 stant's notice to be vivacious and fascinating ; Made- 
 leine, cool and unruffled, lounging at a convenient 
 spot somewhat removed from the others, surrounded 
 by the best and most desirable of all the youth and 
 chivalry. The world belonged to her. She could 
 have what she wanted. And in those calm, thought- 
 ful eyes, now sparkling with enthusiasm, now half- 
 closed and self-possessed, it was apparent that she 
 would probably make no mistake in getting what 
 she wanted. Some one had once figured that the 
 group about her represented quite a hundred millions 
 of dollars the group consisting of six young men. 
 And any one of the six she could have married when 
 
 17
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 she chose. Large reason for her to be self-possessed 
 and to bide her time, and large reason for the mothers 
 and their eligible daughters to take every precaution ! 
 
 The man who was fortunate enough to be the 
 chief attraction of this crowd paused at the back 
 line before he served. He was exceedingly calm. 
 The crowd, the mothers, the daughters, the hand- 
 embroidered frocks, meant nothing to him at that 
 moment. He desired to beat the man opposite him. 
 The sets stood one and one. In this final set, Holt 
 had won five games to his opponent's four. The 
 tenth game had gone to deuce many times. The 
 young man, who was tiring, was anxious to end it 
 and win immediately. It was his advantage and 
 this point, if he made it, meant victory. 
 
 He rose on his toes, and shot his hard fast service 
 at the inner corner of the court. The man across 
 the net made no effort to get it. 
 
 " Fault," commented the referee, from his step- 
 ladder. 
 
 The other man moved up nearer the net. Young 
 Holt decided to take a chance. He did not play 
 safe, as his opponent had expected. There was 
 about one chance in five of his placing his hard 
 
 serve in the court. However, he tried it. His 
 
 18
 
 ARE YOU PLAYING AGAIN ?'
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 racket sang, the ball shot across the net, struck in 
 a flurry of lime on the back-line of the receiving 
 court and bounded untouched to the back nets. 
 An outburst of hand-clapping arose, the referee 
 descended from his high place, and Holt's oppo- 
 nent, glancing a little bewildered at the spot where 
 the ball struck, smiled and advanced to the net to 
 clasp the victor's hand. 
 
 Ten minutes later the young man had worked 
 his way to the less thickly populated edges of the 
 mother and daughter zone. Flushed and excited at 
 his victory, he enjoyed his triumph in frank enthu- 
 siasm. The hundredth girl looked at him with a 
 half smile. 
 
 Presently he went over to the place where she was 
 sitting. 
 
 ' Are you playing again ? " he asked. 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Let's take a stroll after we have changed." 
 
 " Meet me here," she said, " in fifteen minutes." 
 
 He departed amid a crowd of conversing people. 
 Twenty invitations to tea on the terrace, to bridge, 
 to a plunge in the pool, to a ride in a new car were 
 at his elbow. The girl did not look after him. 
 Neither did she leave immediately to change her 
 
 19
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 clothes. Because, behind the vines of the pergola 
 where she sat, two men, sauntering along with their 
 golf clubs, paused to look after Morgan Holt and his 
 friends. 
 
 " There," observed one of them, with crisp pessi- 
 mism, " goes the embryo Gilded Youth the abso- 
 lutely raw product. You see him now a natural, 
 average young man. Inside the door there some 
 one will buy him a Scotch highball. He will drink 
 it because he is never to be denied anything he wants 
 food, drink, wives anything money can buy." 
 
 " Why," said the other man incredulously, " he is 
 nothing but the average rich man's son." 
 
 " Of course. The natural result of his surround- 
 ings. The non-producer. Having everything, he 
 is taught there is nothing to strive for. And, when 
 he gets to believe that absolutely, he will be wholly 
 unable to achieve anything. He is a man now. 
 He will presently be simply a spoiled child, trying 
 in vain to find something he wants that he does not 
 possess already." 
 
 " Spoiled child," observed the other indifferently. 
 " He's that already. Born that way. Coddled all 
 his life, kept at home, never allowed to see other 
 
 children, treated like a piece of rare china. His 
 
 20
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 brain must be mush. Be an excellent thing if he 
 did take a good stiff drink and brace up. He's 
 nothing now but a mild, ineffectual, girlish child 
 and doubtless always will be. So much for his 
 ridiculous bringing-up." 
 
 His companion picked up his golf-sticks. 
 
 " I know that's what they all say, but still " 
 
 " Oh, cut out your moralizing. What difference 
 does it make ? The girl that marries him will marry 
 him for his money ; and he can be as pale and 
 colorless as he pleases and she will not care a rap. 
 Come on. Let's get our bath." 
 
 They passed out of hearing and trudged up the 
 path to the club-house. After they left, the girl sat 
 for a long while in silence. Her possible marriage 
 with Morgan Holt she had considered with more 
 than usual seriousness she hardly knew why. 
 There was not much more money there than in 
 several other possible quarters. Morgan was too 
 quiet and too simple-minded to shine among her 
 class of people. Her better judgment told her that 
 she did not want him, but something within her 
 made her think of him very often. 
 
 That something within her was a primitive some- 
 thing. And Madeleine was not at all a primitive 
 
 21
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 being. She was a product of an aristocratic class, 
 and the mating instinct in her was not headlong. 
 It was tempered and deliberate. Her family for 
 several generations back had married with discre- 
 tion and judgment. They had taken their husbands 
 in the calm of the morning, and with due regard to 
 what the world would think of their choice. It was 
 therefore not to be expected that Madeleine would 
 greatly heed a primitive emotion. 
 
 She had no intention of marrying a man who 
 could be spoken of slightingly by her friends. Pride 
 was one of her inheritances. She wished to marry a 
 strong, large-natured man who would impress the 
 world with his force but he must have money. 
 That was part of her instinct and training, and cor- 
 responded to thrift in the woman of a lower station 
 in life. It could not be called selfishness. You could 
 not judge her by the same code as the girl who 
 works for her living. When she held her instincts 
 in hand, calmly choosing her husband with regard 
 to his fitness to further her chief object which was 
 undoubtedly the advancement of her social position 
 she was doing a very proper thing. And as her 
 social supremacy hung now by a slender thread, she 
 
 could afford to marry neither a quiet, retiring, inef- 
 
 22
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 fectual man nor yet a wild, dissipated one. She must 
 have a strong companion who could help her to 
 carve out a ledge on the face of the rock for them to 
 stand on. 
 
 She rose presently and went back to the club- 
 house. She was rather late in keeping her appoint- 
 ment with young Holt. Smiles of understanding 
 were exchanged by people who saw them as they 
 strolled across the golf links toward the path through 
 the gaudy autumn woods. She was silent for a 
 time. She thought she knew what they would talk 
 about that afternoon. There had been a hint of it 
 when she had seen him the night before. 
 
 Morgan Holt was not the sort of person for her at 
 that time. If he developed in the next year or two 
 he might be. But just now he was too quiet, too in- 
 different to the importance of social activities, too 
 unsophisticated in the finesse of the people of his 
 class. He did not shine among them ; in fact, they 
 more frequently bored him. His life had been spent 
 practically in the society of his father alone. His 
 mother had died when he was born, and his father 
 had almost literally never let him out of his sight. 
 This companionship had made the boy gentle and 
 attractive, but it had also made him hopelessly un- 
 
 23
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 fitted to join in the swirling action of the people about 
 him, and it had not fitted him to be Madeleine's hus- 
 band. 
 
 She thrust her hands into the pockets of her scarlet 
 coat. 
 
 " I notice by the papers this morning," she ob- 
 served, lightly, " that you have denied your engage- 
 ment to me." 
 
 He made a gesture of impatience. 
 
 " I wish there were some way to protect us," he 
 said, " from this newspaper notoriety. Why should 
 your own personal affairs or mine be discussed 
 freely in the papers?" 
 
 She lifted her shoulders in a delicate shrug. 
 
 " The penalty," she observed, " you pay for being 
 rich." 
 
 " A fellow pays a great many penalties, I think, 
 for being rich." 
 
 She smiled at him. 
 
 " Don't be gloomy about it. It's glorious to be 
 rich. We are all of us if given a chance willing 
 to put up with its drawbacks." 
 
 " I suppose," he said, quickly, " you belong to the 
 class of people who maintain no drawbacks exist 
 
 worth speaking of." 
 
 24
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 " There are drawbacks to everything, my dear boy. 
 Think of the disadvantages of being poor. One 
 might say, the tragedy of being poor," she added. 
 
 He walked on for a way in silence. 
 
 " But what of the fruitlessness of a rich man's 
 life?" 
 
 She looked at him with a frank stare. 
 
 " Having just come into your wealth," she ob- 
 served, indulgently, "you have in mind a certain 
 quotation about the camel and the eye of a needle." 
 
 He laughed. 
 
 " No," he returned, " my philosophy hadn't got so 
 far. But sometimes I do think about the fellows in 
 the Bible who were given the talents for the purpose 
 of gathering other talents. I am afraid I am going 
 to be the man who buried his in the ground." 
 
 " Do you mean," she asked, thoughtfully, " that 
 you are " she hesitated over the plagiarism " a 
 non-producer ? " 
 
 She was thinking of the conversation she had over- 
 heard by the tennis courts. 
 
 " That is a good word for it," he said. " I am to 
 spend my life playing golf and tennis, going abroad, 
 hunting, sailing in fact, killing time. I am cast as 
 an idler." 
 
 25
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 She looked at him keenly. She was vivacious, 
 enthusiastic, sparkling, but in her eyes dwelt always 
 a look of easy thoughtfulness, indicating a cool, 
 prosaic grasp of the situation at hand. Had old 
 Hampton Graham possessed his daughter's insight, 
 he might have found himself at that moment reck- 
 oned among the captains of finance. 
 
 "You must be ambitious, Morgan," she said, 
 slowly. 
 
 " What is there to be ambitious about ? I am not 
 a painter, nor a scholar, nor a writer. I can't rise to 
 fame that way. I am not even a first-class tennis 
 player." 
 
 She nodded. 
 
 " I have thought of this thing," he went on. " I 
 have sometimes felt as if there should be some goal 
 before me. But what is it ? " 
 
 She had no answer to that. 
 
 " For instance," he went on, " suppose I should go 
 into politics. What chance would there be for me ? 
 I have nothing but money. I could only buy my 
 way." 
 
 " Yes," she said. 
 
 "Or suppose I should go into big business. It 
 
 would be too big for me ; and I should in all proba- 
 
 26
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 bility lose all I already have. I haven't been trained 
 for it. I don't know enough of the world." 
 
 " Exactly," she assented. 
 
 " But other fellows in my position," he said, de- 
 fensively, " do none of those things." 
 
 She thought of what her father had said in the 
 morning. It was seldom that she allowed her father's 
 conversation to stick in her mind, but his talk had 
 struck a responsive chord in her. 
 
 " You say you do not know enough of the world," 
 she said, with a certain businesslike directness. 
 "Why don't you get busy and get that knowledge?" 
 
 "How?" 
 
 " Any old way that's feasible." 
 
 " But knowledge of the world ! You can't go out 
 and buy it. You've got to live to get it." 
 
 " And you can't get it living as you do," she pur- 
 sued. 
 
 " Exactly. I am protected by my money. I do not 
 get rubbed up against." 
 
 She thought again of her father's idea. 
 
 " Why don't you," she said, slowly " why don't 
 you live for a while as if you didn't have the 
 money ? " 
 
 He stared at this. 
 
 27
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 " Live right among people. Learn about them," 
 she explained, eyeing him speculatively. 
 
 He hesitated. 
 
 " I'm willing," he said, a little bewildered, " but I 
 don't quite understand." 
 
 Her eyes lit up as she saw the notion begin to take 
 hold in him. 
 
 "This is the idea," she exclaimed. " Go away for 
 a year, taking only a certain amount of money two 
 hundred dollars, perhaps and see if you can sup- 
 port yourself unassisted." 
 
 She paused, breathing quickly. The thing was 
 done. She believed he would do it, and felt, in con- 
 sequence, as if she had touched a match to a train of 
 powder. It is a delicate thing, this tampering with 
 the balance spring of some one else's life. But the 
 feeling within her, the primitive desire for possession, 
 was strong that day. If this man could make 
 of himself what her mind desired, all the rest of her 
 wanted him. She was willing to sit by and wait. 
 
 He did not answer her immediately, but looked at 
 her intently. And part of his thought was of this 
 new idea and part of it of the person who had pro- 
 posed it. She met his eyes with a calm, frank gaze. 
 
 He stepped up close to her. 
 
 28
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 " I'll do it," he cried, impulsively. " I'll start to- 
 morrow." 
 
 He was willing to stake everything on one cast 
 of the die just as he had upon his one stroke on 
 the tennis court if it seemed that in that was a 
 chance of victory. He knew that otherwise there 
 was no chance. 
 
 She smiled an adorable smile, such as Venus, con- 
 scious of her power, might have smiled on her 
 Olympian throne. He caught both her hands in his. 
 
 " And if I do this," he cried, eagerly, " if I spend 
 this year learning the world, and come back here, as 
 you say, better fitted to play the game and leave 
 my " he hesitated " leave my footsteps on the 
 sands of time, what then ? " 
 
 She did not answer his question immediately. 
 
 "You must understand," she said, evidently going 
 back to an idea that she had been turning over, 
 " that I do not consider this test in itself worth any- 
 thing. You could support yourself under those con- 
 ditions for a year, and at the end of that time be no 
 better off, or at the end of that time be in trim to be 
 one of the big men of the age. It all depends on you." 
 
 There was no enthusiasm about her, but her head- 
 long common sense appealed to him. 
 
 29
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 " Madeleine," he whispered, still holding her 
 hands, which she had made no effort to withdraw, 
 " I am going to do all that is in me to be a big man 
 of the age. And when I come back if I seem to have 
 succeeded, will you " he paused and looked search- 
 ingly into her eyes " will you marry me ? " 
 
 She spread open the hands lying in his. 
 
 " Here I am," she said, quietly. 
 
 His first impulse was to catch her in his arms. 
 Then a queer, old-fashioned sense of he would have 
 called it decency prevented him. He had not yet 
 earned her. Instead, therefore, he leaned down and 
 kissed both her hands. 
 
 She smiled at him pleasantly, studying his fine, 
 frank young face. He let go her hands and stepped 
 through the rustling leaves to the path. No one 
 could have resisted him. She tossed an acorn at 
 him. The primitive feeling was strong. 
 
 " If you are going to kiss me good-bye," she said, 
 " you had best do it before we get out on the golf 
 links."
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 MORGAN HOLT'S machine drew up by the 
 curb in front of the house that was now his 
 own. The footman, alighting before the car stopped, 
 touched the bell at the door, and by the time the 
 young man was out of the car, it was open. The 
 man who opened the door took his hat and coat and 
 gloves. 
 
 " Mr. Cogshell called you on the telephone, sir," 
 he said. 
 
 Holt nodded. 
 
 " I wish you would have Bronson call him up and 
 ask him to dine with me to-night." 
 
 He stepped into the push-button elevator, and 
 went up to the third floor. He glanced at his letters 
 as he went through his study and picked up a couple 
 of notes. In his dressing room he found his evening 
 clothes and his dinner suit laid out for him, and 
 heard the water running for his bath in the room be- 
 yond. In a very short while he was disrobed and in 
 the warm bath-room. It was a fine, comfortable
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 place, floored and wainscoted with red quarry tile, 
 with buff porcelain fixtures, and the bath tub sunk 
 below the level of the floor. He splashed about in 
 the water like the healthy young animal he was. 
 When he emerged the things he had taken off had 
 been put away. With a skilful hand and noiseless 
 tread his man assisted him into his clothes, his silk 
 stockings, his immaculate calfskin pumps, so care- 
 fully taken care of between wearings that they fitted 
 his feet without a crease ; his gray silk vest ; his per- 
 fectly pressed dinner coat ; and the white gardenia to 
 put in his lapel. He was indeed a very refulgent be- 
 ing then, and could Madeleine have seen him she 
 might have repented her decision to send him away 
 for so long. 
 
 He went down the wide marble stairway. Its 
 walls of smooth white Botticino marble were adorned 
 with delicate pilasters. The lights were all concealed 
 behind the cornice, and shed a gentle glow over the 
 hall. He went into the library where a fire of logs 
 was burning in the great fireplace, and, dropping 
 into the leather chair drawn up before it, took the 
 newspaper that lay on the table at his elbow. 
 
 After about five minutes, just as the clock in the 
 hall was striking the hour, a short, gray-haired gen- 
 
 32
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 tleman, whose full beard was neatly parted in the 
 middle and brushed briskly to the sides, entered the 
 room. 
 
 " How do you do, Mr. Cogshell ? " said Morgan. 
 
 " I'm well. Glad to have the old family lawyer's 
 privilege of dining here now and then." 
 
 He spread his hands out before the blaze. 
 
 "Anything the matter?" he demanded presently. 
 
 " Plenty," said Morgan. 
 
 " Let's have it." 
 
 The butler entered to say that dinner was served. 
 
 " After we've had our dinner I'll let you have the 
 whole story." 
 
 Morgan led the way into the small dining-room, 
 an exquisite little room done in that phase of Geor- 
 gian architecture which is known as the Adam style. 
 The slightly curved ceiling was ornamented with a 
 riot of delicate moulded plaster scrolls, little cupids 
 growing out of acanthus leaves, and all such natural 
 phenomena, all modeled in dainty, graceful lines. 
 The wood wainscot had all the pleasant daintiness 
 of a silversmith's carving. The Italian walnut furni- 
 ture was designed after furniture of the same period, 
 as was the hardware on the doors and the silver on 
 the table. 
 
 33
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 "This is the most attractive room in New York," 
 observed Cogshell, at last. 
 
 " I think so," responded Morgan. " However," 
 he added, after a pause, " to-morrow I am leaving it." 
 
 " For how long?" asked the lawyer. 
 
 " I expect to be gone about a year." 
 
 "Bless my soul!" cried the other. "And where 
 are you going? " 
 
 " Don't know exactly. South somewhere. There 
 is a better chance there, I think." 
 
 Cogshell knitted his brows. He eyed the other 
 keenly. 
 
 " Chance ? " he said. " Chance? May I ask what 
 meaning you ascribe to that term ? " 
 
 " In this instance," observed Morgan slowly, " I 
 mean chance to earn one's living to accumulate 
 money to support one's self." 
 
 The other struck a match on the side of the box 
 and held the flame to the end of his short cigar. 
 
 " Will you say that again ? " he observed at length. 
 " Say it slowly." 
 
 " In short," continued the young man, " I mean to 
 let all my father's money be untouched for a year. 
 During that time I am going to endeavor to support 
 myself by my own efforts." 
 
 34
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 " Work for a living, in other words." 
 
 " You have the idea." 
 
 The lawyer leaned forward with both elbows on 
 the table. 
 
 " As a conversationalist, Morgan, my boy," he ob- 
 served, " you are almost unbeatable." 
 
 Morgan laughed. 
 
 " Let me tell you all about it," he said. " The 
 facts are these. This afternoon I asked Madeleine 
 Graham to marry me. She said no. She said that 
 I was a very inconsequential person who had never 
 accomplished anything in the past, and in the future 
 proposed to do nothing but try to spend as much as 
 possible of my father's money. She doesn't want to 
 marry a man like that. She wants a man who is doing 
 things somebody with a punch, you understand." 
 
 Cogshell knocked the ash off his cigar. 
 
 " Madeleine Graham wants these things, you say." 
 
 "Yes. Why?" he added. 
 
 Cogshell shrugged his shoulders. " Nothing at 
 all." 
 
 " Now I'm not at all that kind of person, as you 
 know. When I was born my father was so frantic 
 for fear I would not live that he spent thousands of 
 dollars for doctors to be with me every instant. 
 
 35
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 When I was a child he could not get the idea out of 
 his head that some one might attempt to run off 
 with me. There were three nurses to care for me. 
 They took turn about, and I was never out of sight 
 of one of them. As an additional security a plain 
 clothes detective was always watching me and the 
 nurses. When I grew older two men tutors sup- 
 planted the nurses. At night the door between my 
 room and that of the tutor who was on duty was 
 never closed, and a detective sat in a chair in the 
 hall outside. I was watched like a prisoner in the 
 Bastile. What chance had I to learn the ways of 
 the world, and fit myself to be useful and earn my 
 own way?" 
 
 " It isn't necessary for you to do those things." 
 
 "It's necessary for me to have some result to 
 show for my life ; and when Madeleine said she 
 would marry me if I could support myself unaided 
 for a year I said I'd make the try. And I'm glad I 
 did. For the first time in my life I have something 
 to work for." 
 
 The lawyer was silent for a moment. 
 
 " If you stay in New York for the year, I think 
 there will be developments enough to give you 
 something to work for," he said at length. "My 
 
 36
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 advice to you is to step out to that telephone there 
 and tell Miss Madeleine Graham that little old New 
 York is quite large enough field for the exercise of 
 your talents, and that you have no intention of leav- 
 ing just now." 
 
 Morgan smiled. 
 
 " I certainly shall do nothing of the sort," he said. 
 
 " Well, of course you are your own master. How- 
 ever, I must ask you to keep me informed continually 
 of your whereabouts so that I can get you on short 
 notice." 
 
 "What will you want me for? You are the ex- 
 ecutor. You have the power to do what you wish 
 with the estate." 
 
 " Well, a certain little matter of importance may 
 come to a head any time now." 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 " There is no use boring you with it now. Wait 
 until it comes along. Tell me what your plans are." 
 
 "They are brief. To-morrow night I board the 
 boat at Baltimore bound for Norfolk. Beyond that 
 I don't know." 
 
 "Why Norfolk?" 
 
 " Perhaps to go further south. My father and I 
 four years ago spent several months in that part of 
 
 37
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 Virginia and North Carolina ; and he used to say if 
 Horace Greeley had been alive now he would have 
 said, 'Young man, go south.' I base my bet on 
 that." 
 
 Mr. Cogshell leaned back in his chair. 
 
 " ' Oh, woman in her hours of ease,' " he quoted, 
 irrelevantly, " ' uncertain, coy and hard to please.' ' : 
 
 "All of those things," agreed Morgan. 
 
 "Well," said the other presently, "I wish you 
 luck. Only keep me informed of your address, and," 
 he added with an effort at unconcern, " leave your 
 Bertillon measurements behind you." 
 
 " What would that be for ? " 
 
 " So we could recognize you in case of accident," 
 he returned, laughing. " Oh, by the way, speaking 
 of Bertillon measurements," he added, with a studied 
 carelessness, " have you a mole immediately be- 
 tween your two shoulder blades ? " 
 
 The boy looked at him keenly. 
 
 "Why do you ask?" 
 
 " I can tell you in the course of a month, perhaps." 
 
 " Is it part of the matter you were speaking of ? " 
 
 " It is indeed." 
 
 The young man laughed. 
 
 " I'll tell you," he said, " when you tell me." 
 
 38
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 Norfolk boat lay at the Baltimore dock. An 
 endless stream of two- wheeled trucks rolled up 
 her forward gangplank loading her with a hundred 
 tons of freight. A desultory and broken line of 
 passengers climbed the after plank. The red Oc- 
 tober sun shone across her upper decks where the 
 passengers crowded before the wheel-house. The 
 men attired in check-caps and cigars and discussing 
 the shipping around them with the able-seaman air 
 a landsman on shipboard readily assumes. The 
 exhaust puffed and sang and sprayed a fine drizzle 
 over every one on deck. Presently the bo's'n blew 
 his shrill whistle. The deep-throated siren aloft 
 barked three times in token of intention to depart. 
 The steward going through the saloon cried, " All 
 asho' that's goin' asho'." Up came the gangplanks. 
 Bow-line, spring-line and stern-line were cast loose, 
 and the boat warped slowly away from the dock. 
 
 A state of comfortable calm reigned aboard, every 
 one looking forward with pleasant anticipation to 
 
 39
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 the journey before him. A man in a mouse-colored 
 plush hat and a striking pink vest stepped up 
 to the purser's office. 
 
 " Is a gentleman named Morgan Holt on the 
 list ? " he asked, in a rather low tone. 
 
 The purser ran his finger down the book. 
 
 " He is. Stateroom number twelve, sir." 
 
 " Much obliged." 
 
 The gray plush hat turned and walked away. In 
 a secluded spot on the lower deck he met two other 
 men, a heavy-set fellow with a close-cropped mus- 
 tache, and a red-haired youth, very thin and pale. 
 
 " Good guess of yours," said the plush hat to the 
 redhead ; " that's who it is." 
 
 " Straight goods ? " 
 
 " Straight goods." 
 
 " I thought I recognized the car that drove him to 
 the station in New York. I had a hunch we were 
 going to strike it rich this P. M. Well, go to it. 
 We'll be here in the corner of the smoking-room 
 waiting for you." 
 
 The plush hat disappeared with a noiseless tread 
 from that part of the boat. He wandered idly about 
 the saloons and decks for a while, looking each man 
 
 in the face. Then he took up a position opposite 
 
 40
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 the stateroom numbered twelve, and waited. And 
 after a long while a boyish person entered the room 
 for the purpose of exchanging a stiff hat for a cap. 
 The man followed him and, when he sat down on 
 the seat by the after rail, stepped up to him and 
 asked him for a match. The young man, without a 
 word, took out a silver match-box and handed it to 
 him. The plush-hatted person noticed the initials 
 " M. H." on the match-box. 
 
 " Fine night," he said. 
 
 " Glorious." 
 
 " Are you familiar enough with the city to tell me 
 what that building is ? " asked the other. 
 
 It was an easy question, but Morgan did not know. 
 Thereupon, the man appeared to remember the 
 building and told a little anecdote about it, which 
 made the other laugh. His cigar lighted, he re- 
 turned the case with thanks, nodded and went aft. 
 
 Fifteen minutes elapsed, and the man returned. 
 Morgan was still moodily watching the wake of 
 the boat. 
 
 " Sorry to disturb you again," said the plush hat, 
 affably, " but there are three of us in the smoking- 
 room down-stairs who want to play a little cards 
 for an hour before dinner. Will you make a fourth ?"
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 Morgan, who had only glanced at him before, 
 took a more comprehensive survey. He was not at 
 all deceived as to the character of this gentleman. 
 He smiled. 
 
 " I'm famished," he said, evenly. " I was mean- 
 ing to dine in about ten minutes." 
 
 The man still smiled. 
 
 " Perhaps after dinner," he said. 
 
 Morgan shook his head. 
 
 " Don't count on me," he answered. 
 
 The man nodded and disappeared unruffled down 
 the companionway. 
 
 It was several hours before their paths crossed 
 again. Morgan Holt's life had not accustomed him 
 to early retiring, and it was midnight before he fin- 
 ished reading in the corner of the almost deserted 
 saloon. He closed his book, putting it in his state- 
 room as he passed, and thrusting his hat on his head, 
 went out on the after deck to breathe the air before 
 turning in. 
 
 He stood beside the emergency hand steering gear 
 and looked out across the indefinite dark waters. 
 The engines were pounding, pounding, pounding, 
 carrying the boat steadily southward, yet hardly 
 
 seeming to change her position in the huge, wide 
 
 42
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 night. A white straight band of foaming water 
 churned up by the propellers stretched away indefi- 
 nitely astern like a band of milky way across a dull 
 sky. It fascinated him to look over the rail at the 
 indeterminate waste around them, whose surface in 
 the darkness was distinguishable only where the 
 lights of the cabin shone out upon it, casting squares 
 of light that seemed to rest on some somber solid 
 rather than upon water. Off to starboard, one lonely 
 light marked the possible location of shore. Far 
 ahead flashed the red and white light marking the 
 ship's course. 
 
 The red of a man's cigar burned by the rail for- 
 ward. Presently he threw it away and it described 
 a long curve before it disappeared in the water. The 
 smoker came aft. By the reflected light from the 
 cabin, Morgan recognized the man with the plush 
 hat. He continued his contemplation of the bay. 
 The man leaned on the rail beside him. 
 
 " You stay up late," he remarked. 
 
 " Why, yes," replied Morgan, shortly. He did 
 not look up nor change his position. 
 
 The other appeared to be somewhat at a loss for 
 conversation. 
 
 The point where Morgan was standing was just at 
 
 43
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 the foot of the stairway leading down from the up- 
 per deck. A seat ran along the rail forward of him, 
 but just at that spot, on account of lack of space, the 
 seat stopped and he was able to stand close up to the 
 rail. Suddenly he became aware of some one stealth- 
 ily descending the steps behind him. He made a 
 quick movement as if to turn around. But the man 
 beside him caught him by the shoulder. 
 
 " Look out," he cried. 
 
 Several life-preservers, which were stored on the 
 ceiling above him, dislodged by some unseen force, 
 fell down and struck him on the head and shoulders. 
 
 "Are you hurt?" cried his companion, attempt- 
 ing to dislodge one of the open life-preservers. 
 He gave a sudden unexpected pull to the thing 
 which jammed Morgan's cap firmly down over his 
 eyes. 
 
 Instantly every fiber of the boy was alert. His 
 father had once said, " When some one pushes your 
 hat over your eyes, feel for your wallet." Morgan 
 felt at his breast pocket and found his companion's 
 hand. 
 
 With his right hand, he grasped the other firmly 
 by the wrist and, stepping up close, drove his fist 
 into him with all his power just above the watch- 
 
 44
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 chain. The man in the plush hat dropped like a 
 felled tree. The pair of arms of a second man went 
 around him, pinioning his own arms to his sides, 
 while a third made a dive at his breast pocket from 
 the front. The boy raised his leg, and the newcomer, 
 a thin, red-haired person, stopped suddenly against 
 his knee-cap. Not daunted, however, he reached 
 forward with his bony hands and grasped the lapels 
 of Morgan's coat in a grip of steel. The latter freed 
 one hand and, catching his opponent's right arm, 
 pressed a certain muscle until the redhead released 
 his grip and, leaning forward suddenly, struck the 
 boy a vicious blow in the throat with the side of his 
 hand. For an instant everything was black before 
 him. The other, quick to seize his advantage, 
 pressed him back over the rail and reached for the 
 money. Morgan tried his jui jitsu on the man's 
 elbow again. 
 
 " Here, lend a hand," cried the redhead, writhing 
 in pain. 
 
 The man who was holding Morgan's knees rose, 
 freeing his legs. Thus released the latter swung 
 backward on the rail and, losing his balance, 
 dragged his red-headed opponent over with him. 
 There was a strip of deck about three feet wide out- 
 
 45
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 side the rail. The third man caught them, Morgan 
 upside down with his head on the deck outside the 
 rail, the other doubled up like a jack-knife over it. 
 When the latter individual, with his companion's aid, 
 straightened himself up, Morgan, with a quick move- 
 ment, attempted to untangle his legs and assume a 
 kneeling position. But the man's vest, to which he 
 was clinging, would not stand the strain. The but- 
 tons came off, his grip slipped, and in a moment he 
 had slid bodily off the edge of the deck. 
 
 He grasped at and held on to the boards for a sec- 
 ond, missed his hold and fell into the hurrying water 
 below. 
 
 It closed over his head. For ages, it seemed, he 
 hung there in the bubbling darkness under the sur- 
 face. He felt the rush of the moving water thrust 
 back by the ship's propellers. The icy cold pene- 
 trated through to his skin. When at length he rose 
 to the air again, he found himself dead astern in the 
 milky churn of the steamer's screws. The boat, 
 twenty feet away, towered overhead, incredibly high. 
 The lantern swinging at the flagpole seemed miles 
 above him among the stars. The distance between 
 him and the steamer yawned greater and greater. 
 He raised his voice in one mighty cry. But he 
 
 46
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 scarcely heard it above the roar of the ship's thun- 
 dering engines. 
 
 The boat drew steadily away. No cry of " Man 
 overboard " disturbed the night. Not a bell sounded 
 in the engine-room. The ship proceeded evenly on 
 her way. The three men who had pushed him over 
 were nowhere to be seen. 
 
 He shouted again desperately, hopelessly. This 
 of no avail, it became imperative for him to turn his 
 attention to his clothing, which made it difficult for 
 him to keep afloat. Rolling over on his back, he 
 got his knife from his pocket, cut his shoe-laces and 
 kicked off his shoes. His wallet, the cause of his 
 troubles, he rescued from his coat pocket, and, put- 
 ting it in his trousers, turned the coat adrift. Stock- 
 ings followed the coat. His trousers, containing his 
 money and watch, he retained. 
 
 He took one more glance at the lighted steamer, 
 and struck out for the shore. He was a fairly good 
 swimmer, capable of staying afloat for a long while, 
 if he were not taken with cramp in the cold water. 
 He swam easily, changing his stroke at intervals to 
 rest himself. Having once made up his mind to get 
 to shore, he did not glance again in the direction of 
 the disappearing steamer. He did not think of the 
 
 47
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 danger of his position, but devoted his entire atten- 
 tion to swimming. He had been in the water nearly 
 an hour when suddenly he instinctively stopped 
 swimming and caught a great sturdy pole that rose 
 out of the darkness before him. It was firmly 
 planted in the bottom. From his slight experience 
 with the bay, he recognized it as one of the familiar 
 pound-net poles. Shore would not be more than 
 half a mile further. He clung to the pole and net 
 for a while until he got his second wind, and then, 
 his teeth chattering with cold, threaded his way 
 around until he found the end of the nets and struck 
 out lustily for shore. 
 
 Presently his feet struck bottom, and he waded 
 ashore. He divested himself immediately of his wet 
 garments and ran up and down the beach until the 
 night air had dried his skin and his quickened blood 
 ran warm through him. 
 
 He discovered that his match-safe had kept dry 
 the matches inside it, and gathering driftwood that 
 lay on the sands, he built a fine fire before which he 
 dried the few garments that now comprised his en- 
 tire stock of clothes. When this was done, it was 
 three o'clock in the morning by his watch. 
 
 Finally, worn out by his exertions, and by lack of 
 
 48
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 sleep the night before, Morgan donned his dry clothes 
 and throwing himself down on the sands by the fire, 
 was soon sound asleep, without having stopped to 
 speculate what manner of place this new shore 
 might be. 
 
 49
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 FROM the thin dark line of the eastern shore, 
 which seemed like a mere pencil stroke across 
 the water at the point where it joined the misty sky, 
 a tiny edge of the sun appeared, and its red rays, 
 skipping across the bay, set rows of rubies on the 
 crests of the tiny waves which slapped the near 
 shore. A flock of gulls, garrulously conversing, 
 swept by on their way to business. The wise and 
 wary fish-hawk, steadying himself with fine uncon- 
 cern above the water, dropped suddenly into it and 
 returned again with his breakfast in his claw. Out in 
 the bay a fat little steamboat, churning the water 
 with two energetic side-wheels, suddenly, after the 
 manner of little steamboats, blew a long blast on an 
 incredibly raucous whistle, which awoke the early 
 morning echoes for a full minute. 
 
 Beside the ashes of his burned-out fire, Morgan 
 Holt started and awoke, shivering. He gazed in- 
 credulously at the unfamiliar scene which surrounded 
 him. It was like awaking from a sound sleep into a 
 dream. The beach above was nothing save a long 
 
 50
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 avenue of sand bordered by high banks, on which 
 sturdy live-oak trees, clinging close to the ground 
 and bent landward by the wind, stood guard like 
 a row of little old gnomes. Below, the shore curved 
 in to form a sort of bay, around which were clustered 
 the houses of a village. Not more than two hundred 
 yards away jutted out into the water a long wharf, 
 on which were signs of great activity. A pile of 
 boxes and barrels and two or three calves, all ready, 
 apparently, to be shipped somewhere, stood at its far 
 end. About twenty or thirty people, all except one 
 of whom were men, stood about and watched the fat 
 steamboat threshing its way toward them. 
 
 Having at length satisfied himself of the possibil- 
 ity of all this stage scenery being real, he thrust 
 his cold hands into the sleeves of his shirt and looked 
 on with interest. The captain of the steamboat suc- 
 ceeded in calming the restless thing as it neared the 
 wharf and drew it alongside with great skill. Two 
 gangplanks were run out. Down the after one 
 came a woman carrying her own bag. Forward, a 
 wild scramble began to get the three calves and the 
 pile of barrels and boxes aboard at the same time. 
 The woman who had been waiting on the wharf 
 greeted the other woman, but the remainder of the
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 crowd for the most part assumed the position of 
 spectators, watching some three or four of their num- 
 ber assisting the deck hands in loading freight. 
 
 He considered, without enthusiasm, whether this 
 was not the best time for him to announce his pres- 
 ence in the community and obtain a little assistance 
 in the way of wardrobe and food. But he was not 
 accustomed to approaching a crowd of unknown 
 people, barefooted, and attired only in shirt and 
 trousers. He felt very much as he had often felt in 
 one of those distressing nightmares when he found 
 himself walking in broad daylight on some crowded 
 thoroughfare attired only in his pajamas. 
 
 The two women came down the long wharf and, 
 to his alarm, began to walk up the beach toward 
 him. His first impulse was flight. But there was 
 nowhere to go. The high banks that rose up from 
 the edge of the beach were entirely too steep to be 
 scaled with much speed. He did not wish to retreat 
 up the beach away from the village. So he decided 
 to stay where he was. He lay back again on the 
 sand with his hands behind his head and looked up 
 at the sky, hoping to be passed unnoticed. 
 
 The footsteps and the voices drew nearer. When 
 they came abreast of him, both stopped suddenly. 
 
 52
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 In a more thickly populated and more thoroughly 
 civilized community they would have passed quickly 
 by, but on this quiet shore the Samaritan instinct 
 was more thoroughly developed ; and a stranger 
 lying on the sands became a duty and a cause for 
 concern. 
 
 There was some murmuring, and the footsteps 
 came toward him. It was no longer possible to ig- 
 nore the fact that they were coming toward him. 
 He stood up, smiling sheepishly, painfully conscious 
 of his bare feet and his inadequate clothes. 
 
 His evident embarrassment conquered any hesita- 
 tion the two ladies may have had. They walked up 
 to him. One of them wore a long, gray woolen 
 coat, into the pockets of which she had thrust her 
 hands. The most noticeable thing about her was 
 her glorious copper-colored hair. The other was a 
 dark-haired, dark-eyed girl of a type unmistakably 
 Virginian. She was dressed in a hat and suit and 
 was evidently the one who had come on the steam- 
 boat. The copper-haired woman spoke first. 
 
 " How did you come here ? " she asked with di- 
 rectness. 
 
 " Why," he returned, " I fell overboard from the 
 Norfolk boat last night and swam ashore." 
 
 53
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 " The Norfolk boat ! " she cried in amazement. 
 
 He nodded. 
 
 " You are the only man I ever knew," she con- 
 tinued, " who was acrobat enough to fall off a Nor- 
 folk boat." 
 
 He smiled, realizing the improbability of his state- 
 ment, as the decks of the steamer were enclosed with 
 high rails, and on the smooth waters of the bay the 
 boat had been as steady as a stone house. 
 
 " To be more accurate," he said, " I was pushed 
 over. Two or three fellows were trying to get my 
 wallet, and in the scuffle I went over into the water." 
 
 She looked at him seriously. 
 
 " It does not sound like a typical scene on a Nor- 
 folk boat." 
 
 He flushed. 
 
 " You asked me these questions," he reminded 
 her. 
 
 She brushed back the strand of hair that blew 
 across her face, and started to say something in re- 
 ply. But the same wind that blew her hair away 
 struck the thinly-clad man before her and he shivered 
 involuntarily. She stopped in her speech. 
 
 " Of course you're cold," she cried, and tore off 
 her coat. 
 
 54
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 " Why, Mrs. Rupert," remonstrated the girl, in a 
 soft voice that contained no trace of " r " and slurred 
 easily over hard combinations of consonants. " Do 
 be careful." 
 
 " I don't need it walking. Put it on," she com- 
 manded Morgan. 
 
 He hesitated. Then he put it on. 
 
 " Just a minute," cried the girl, opening her bag 
 and running rapidly through it. 
 
 " There," she cried, standing up in triumph and 
 presenting him with a pair of pink bedroom slippers. 
 They all burst out laughing. But after some discus- 
 sion, he put them on, or to be more accurate, he 
 slipped his feet in them, for his heels hung consid- 
 erably over arear. 
 
 " Come with us," said Mrs. Rupert. 
 
 They made rather a queer cavalcade, the two 
 women walking ahead and Morgan trailing after, 
 attired in his strange costume. They walked up the 
 beach for a short way and climbed to the higher 
 ground at a place where some one had built a flight 
 of rustic steps. The way they were traveling was 
 evidently a short cut to somewhere, for after walk- 
 ing in single file across some waste land, they pres- 
 ently came out on a highroad. Morgan was rather 
 
 55
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 sensitive about the comic-opera effect of his clothes, 
 when several vehicles passed them, but he plodded 
 straight ahead without looking up. In fact, it was 
 almost impossible for him to look up, for the slight- 
 est inattention to his footwear resulted in his losing 
 it altogether. 
 
 A very short distance on this road brought them 
 to a stretch of box hedge, and a driveway entrance 
 flanked by two stone piers. They entered here. A 
 well-kept lawn, spotted with old trees, lay before 
 them, with a gentle slope up to the brick house that 
 stood back from the gate several hundred feet. It 
 had a comfortable and homelike appearance. On 
 the white columned porch stood a fat, smiling man 
 of five-and-thirty or thereabouts. Morgan's first im- 
 pression of him was of the neat, absolutely studied 
 correctness of his clothes. He hurried down the 
 steps with a welcoming smile. 
 
 " How can you be so beautiful before breakfast ?" 
 was his greeting, as he took the dark-eyed girl's 
 hand. He spoke with an easy carelessness, that was 
 part pleasantry and part mild irony. 
 
 The girl smiled. 
 
 " From long study, I reckon," she returned. 
 
 " Business reasons, of course," he went on, smiling 
 
 56
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 blandly at the untruth, " kept me from meeting you 
 at the boat" 
 
 "Which translated means," explained Mrs. Rupert, 
 " that you couldn't have roused him from his bed at 
 that hour for a farm." 
 
 "I think," said the girl, "I understand your 
 husband." 
 
 That gentleman laughed pleasantly, and then, 
 turning, allowed his eye to rest on Morgan. Im- 
 mediately the smile faded and his face was cold and 
 hard. He gazed arrogantly at the young man's 
 clothes. 
 
 " What have we here ? " he asked, in a baronial 
 manner. 
 
 " It is a young man," explained his wife, " who 
 fell off the Norfolk boat. We found him on the 
 beach." 
 
 He looked at Morgan with frank incredulity. 
 
 " He fell, you say, off the Norfolk boat?" 
 
 " I was pushed over," the young man said. "Three 
 men were trying to get my money " 
 
 " Oh, yes," put in Mr. Rupert, with an air of com- 
 plete sophistication. " Usually there are six." 
 
 " There were three men. Two of them were hold- 
 ing me and the third " 
 
 57
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 " Of course. The third was trying to get your 
 wallet, containing, naturally, untold wealth. There 
 was a sudden, unexpected lurch, over you went, and 
 the boat went on without you, the three ruffians 
 meanwhile escaping." He laughed, ironically. "I 
 think I know that story." 
 
 " It is not necessary that you believe it." 
 
 " No," returned the other, " not necessary, nor 
 probable." 
 
 " My dear," exclaimed his wife. 
 
 He turned to her with an impatient gesture. 
 
 Morgan took off the coat and bedroom slippers. 
 
 " I am exceedingly obliged for these," he said, 
 returning them to Mrs. Rupert. 
 
 " What are you going to do ? " she demanded. 
 
 " I think I had best go." 
 
 Mr. Rupert frowned. He had fully made up his 
 mind to take care of the newcomer, but he wished 
 to do it in a thoroughly condescending manner, 
 without having to accept any story that he pre- 
 ferred not to believe. He could not allow Morgan 
 to go away in this manner, anyway, as it would be 
 letting the young man have his own way. Mr. 
 Rupert's idea was to make all arrangements himself. 
 
 " Have you any place to go ? " he demanded. 
 
 58
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 "No." 
 
 " Have you any idea what you are going to do ? " 
 
 His tone was that of a person addressing a very 
 young child. 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Then," he said, imperiously, " you will stay 
 here." 
 
 To his mind this settled the whole question. He 
 smiled good-humoredly. 
 
 " You and I are about of a size," he said, glancing 
 down at his ample girth. " I think I have some 
 clothes that will fit you precisely." 
 
 Morgan, too tired and cold to refuse, and not 
 knowing what to do if he did refuse, followed them 
 into the house, where his feet rested on warm, soft 
 carpets. 
 
 59
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 " T TOT water," said Mr. Rupert, as they stood in 
 A JL his own bedroom, " is now running in yonder 
 near-porcelain tub. You will first take a bath." 
 
 Rupert's greatest joy in life was the scientific regu- 
 lation of the actions of others. He not only knew 
 the precise and exact thing he ought to do himself 
 on all occasions, but he knew the precise and exact 
 thing every one else ought to do on all occasions ; 
 and he was never parsimonious in the dispensation 
 of this heaven-sent knowledge. Morgan made no 
 comment on the peremptory form of the request, 
 but, hastily divesting himself of his clothes, stepped 
 into the fine warm water, which put the blood in 
 circulation through his chilled body. When he came 
 out the benevolent gentleman had several quinine 
 pills ready for him. Following the quinine pills came 
 the question of stockings, underwear and shirt. 
 
 "You will instantly doubt my word," continued 
 the other, " when I say it is possible for one so young 
 and sylph-like as you to wear clothes of mine, but in 
 
 ordering my clothes, when I state clearly that I am a 
 
 60
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 perfect forty-four, of course they feel that no one 
 could be so fat as that, so by way of subtle compli- 
 ment they send me size thirty-six. Put those on." 
 
 The other did as directed. Mr. Rupert was in 
 high glee. The ordering of the affairs of others sel- 
 dom gave him the opportunity of dressing one of 
 them from top to toe in a manner which just suited 
 himself. 
 
 " I, too," he went on, bringing out a suit of clothes 
 from the depths of a drawer in one of his chiffoniers, 
 of which there were five in the room, " was once 
 slender and beautiful in the dear days of long ago. 
 This suit, made for me at the beginning of what I 
 might call my transitional stage, had to be discarded 
 in the heyday of its youth as wholly inadequate." 
 
 Morgan put it on. 
 
 " Splendid ! " cried his companion, with the en- 
 thusiasm of an artist. 
 
 Shoes, collar, necktie, studs, sleeve buttons, even 
 a scarf pin were forthcoming as soon as needed. It 
 seemed that Mr. Rupert never discarded any article 
 of clothing that he had ever owned, but stored them 
 all in the five chiffoniers, perhaps in the hope of dis- 
 playing a lavish hand in case of the appearance of a 
 
 person in just such a position as was Morgan Holt. 
 
 61
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 " Oh, no. Never wear your necktie that way," he 
 objected severely, arranging the tie anew. " Thus, 
 rather. All the young men in New York wear them 
 so." 
 
 " Do they ? " observed Morgan, meekly. 
 
 " Were you ever in New York ? " demanded the 
 other, looking at him keenly. 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " How long ago?" 
 
 " Oh, twenty-four hours, perhaps." 
 
 Morgan was brushing his hair before the mirror. 
 While doing so he happened accidentally to see his 
 companion glance quickly at his watch and silver 
 match-case which lay on the bed, each with the 
 monogram " M. H." engraved upon it. He knew 
 instinctively what the next question asked him would 
 be. But he did not show that he had observed the 
 other's action. 
 
 " By the way," said Mr. Rupert quietly, " what is 
 your name ? " 
 
 Morgan busied himself with a supposedly rebellious 
 lock of hair. It was a critical and important mo- 
 ment. It was necessary above all things that he 
 should not reveal his identity, because that would 
 
 make it impossible for him to carry out his part of the 
 
 62
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 agreement to earn his living for one year as an or- 
 dinary citizen. The chances of his being recognized 
 in a place so far from New York were not great. 
 He was not well known in New York itself. His en- 
 forced seclusion during his youth had made him bet- 
 ter known by the fact of that seclusion than by his 
 actual personal appearance. He had rarely had a 
 photograph taken except the few snapshots by news- 
 paper reporters as he was walking past a given 
 point, but these would serve more as a disguise than 
 otherwise. Of course there was always the possi- 
 bility, in fact the certainty, perhaps, that before the 
 year was up he would be recognized. But that was 
 a perfectly good gambling chance, and perhaps by 
 that time he would be well on the way toward ac- 
 complishing his purpose. It was therefore necessary 
 for him to be known by an alias ; or, to put it in 
 other than words of the criminal court, to live incog- 
 nito, which is considered a perfectly proper thing to 
 do ; the former term being used when one wishes to 
 avoid the undesirable consequences of his own iden- 
 tity, and the latter when he wishes to avoid what the 
 world calls the desirable ones. 
 
 He had intended to dispose of the watch and 
 match-safe before entering on his new career, in 
 
 63
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 order that they might not give the lie to whatever 
 cognomen he selected. But since, instead of enter- 
 ing the career, the career had, rather, sprung up and 
 enveloped him, the name had to be decided on 
 quickly, and must correspond to the initials " M " 
 and " H." The last name he felt must be Morgan, 
 so that he would be sure to look up when spoken to. 
 That disposed of the letter " M." There is only one 
 first name beginning with " H " which a person could 
 decide on on the spur of the moment, and poor Mor- 
 gan had to take that. But worse things have hap- 
 pened to many a young man. 
 
 " My name," he said, still struggling with his sup- 
 posedly rebellious hair, " is Henry Morgan." 
 
 "Well, Henry " began the other. 
 
 " Oh, no," cried Morgan, " call me Morgan." 
 
 " Just as you say." 
 
 "Now about my falling overboard " 
 
 Mr. Rupert smiled. 
 
 " Isn't it a pleasant day ? " he observed blandly. 
 
 " But since you doubt my story " 
 
 "Oh, how could I doubt it?" returned the other 
 with pleasant irony. 
 
 Morgan turned on him. 
 
 " Then what is your version of it ? " 
 
 64
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 " I have none." 
 
 " I thought not," Holt replied coldly. 
 
 Mr. Rupert set his lips. 
 
 " Before we go to breakfast," he said evenly, " do 
 you wish to send a telegram to your friends ? You 
 can do so by using the telephone." 
 
 " No, thanks." 
 
 " Perhaps a letter a special delivery letter." 
 
 " No, I think not." 
 
 Mr. Rupert turned about suddenly at the door. 
 
 "I will say this much to you then, Morgan," he 
 said, calmly, " your story has not convinced me. If 
 you have any desire that I shall believe it, or that 
 any one else here shall believe it, you will doubtless 
 have letters from your friends in New York saying 
 who you are, and that you were simply a passenger 
 on the boat and not " 
 
 He paused. 
 
 "Yes; and not what?" demanded the young 
 man. 
 
 " Some one running away." 
 
 Morgan stared at him. 
 
 " I think I will write that letter, Mr. Rupert," he 
 said, shortly. 
 
 " Very well." 
 
 65
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 At the foot of the stairs was the library. In it 
 stood a small desk and writing materials. 
 
 " Make yourself perfectly comfortable, and when 
 you have finished come into the dining-room," said 
 Rupert, and left him alone. 
 
 The young man took a piece of paper from a 
 pigeonhole and thoughtfully did a sum upon it. 
 Then from his pocketbook, still damp, he took a 
 crumpled, moist twenty dollar bill and put it in an 
 envelope. He wrote on the paper : 
 
 " This should reimburse you for the clothes, 
 which I must have. If you think I am an escap- 
 ing thief, or other criminal, it might be em- 
 barrassing for you to have me at breakfast." 
 
 He put this in the envelope with the bill, sealed it, 
 and addressed it to Mr. Rupert. Then putting it in 
 a conspicuous spot in the hall, he opened the door 
 and went out. 
 
 66
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 HE walked down the smooth lawn through the 
 gate to the highroad. He smiled as he thought 
 of the strangely garbed creature he had been when he 
 entered that gate. It was a macadam road, evidently 
 running between places of importance. Along its 
 edges were other places similar to the Ruperts' 
 places having two or three acres of lawn about the 
 houses, all beautifully kept, and shaded by old trees ; 
 and sometimes having barns and stables and farm 
 implements back of the houses, seeming to indicate 
 that the fields beyond were part of these places, and 
 that they were the homes of farmers. He walked 
 for nearly a mile in the direction where he had seen 
 the village, before the houses began to be closer to- 
 gether, and then suddenly, as is the case in country 
 towns, he found himself in the midst of it before he 
 was actually aware of it. 
 
 It was a long town, built on each side of the road 
 and seeming to have no ambition to extend further 
 back in either direction. There was absolutely no 
 
 67
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 competition in the way of streets. The place seemed 
 to have grown up beside the road which led down to 
 the long wharf, and the idea of lateral and parallel 
 thoroughfares was a complication quite too deep 
 to be grasped. It is true that a few houses did sit 
 disconsolately in the mid-distance behind the houses 
 on the street, but it was easy to imagine that they 
 were the abiding place of the proletariat and that the 
 social elect who occupied the salmon tinted frame 
 houses on Main Street felt several grades above them 
 in point of respectability. 
 
 It was a pleasant town. The narrow sidewalks 
 were built of brick, cheerfully out of level like the 
 waves of the sea. In places the maples and crepe 
 myrtles, which lined the street, stood complacently 
 in the middle of the walk, and the pedestrian, realiz- 
 ing that it was useless to wait for them to move, 
 found it necessary to walk around them. Few of the 
 houses were large. They sat back from the street, 
 resting comfortably under the shade of the trees, 
 frame houses painted impossible colors, embroidered 
 and featherstitched with many yards of jig-saw orna- 
 ment. Fig trees and magnolias grew beside the 
 hedges and the whitewashed fences which separated 
 
 the lawns. Here and there nature's green was en- 
 
 68
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 riched by a pair of cast-iron animals standing by the 
 entrance paths, and endeavoring to look like dogs. 
 
 The whole town was tremendously respectable in 
 its appearance. The front doors of the houses had 
 beveled plate glass panels and were elaborately 
 grained in imitation of walnut. The house in which 
 the village physician lived was the most respectable 
 of all the houses. The excessive frontal develop- 
 ment accorded it by its mansard roof gave it an air 
 of intellectuality and reserve, and made it so appro- 
 priate as the home of the doctor that the faded sign 
 on the gate-post, upon which appeared his name and 
 a hypothetical set of office hours, was almost un- 
 necessary. Morgan saw the doctor himself come out 
 as he passed a burly man with streaks of mud on 
 his trouser legs and burrs sticking to the skirts of 
 his coat. The information he called back in his big 
 voice as to the probable time of his return was shared 
 by the entire village, which was wholly within range 
 of the echo. 
 
 As the doctor opened his gate Morgan had his first 
 experience in a new and hitherto unsuspected r61e. 
 The big man glanced at him casually with the full 
 expectation, though Morgan did not know it, of hail- 
 ing him heartily by his first name. When he saw 
 
 69
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 the unfamiliar face his hand on the gate latch dropped 
 involuntarily, and he treated the young man to a 
 curious, speculative stare which was wholly uncon- 
 scious ; for Morgan was now that tremendously im- 
 portant figure a stranger in the village. 
 
 Further on, the residential part of the town seemed 
 to cease by common consent. Here stood a row of 
 stores, set back, like the houses, from the street. 
 The sidewalk turned a right angle, went twenty feet 
 or more from the road, turned another right angle 
 and ran along before the front porches of the stores, 
 thus giving a space beside the road where vehicles 
 might be parked and their horses tethered to the 
 long, tooth-worn hitching-rail. There was, in this 
 row, a drug store, a hardware store, a sort of ship 
 chandler's shop, a grocery, a post-office, a bank, and 
 five or six other small mercantile establishments. 
 The sign on the bank read : 
 
 PRINCE CHARLES SAVING INSTITUTION 
 
 Joseph Rupert, Cashier 
 Banking Hours, 9 to 3 
 Saturdays, 9 to 12 
 
 He went into the post-office and wrote a special 
 
 delivery letter to the lawyer in New York requesting 
 
 70
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 him to telegraph to Norfolk asking the steamship 
 company to have the suit case which he had left in 
 the stateroom sent to his address in New York. 
 This was in order that no suspicion that he had left 
 the boat in any other than the regular manner might 
 be aroused. As it was, the officers of the steamer 
 had no way of telling that he had not stepped off at the 
 wharf in Norfolk instead of at some unknown point in 
 the middle of Chesapeake Bay. As long as they con- 
 tinued in that belief there would be no paragraph in 
 the newspapers concerning him. As long as no para- 
 graph appeared in the newspapers he stood a good 
 chance of preserving his incognito in this new town. 
 He soon noticed that wherever he went business 
 was suspended. The man who was hitching his 
 horse before the grocery store stopped with the halter 
 half-way round the rail. Discussion on the front 
 porch of the store ceased in the middle of a sentence 
 as he approached. He could fairly hear them look- 
 ing at him. As he stood at the desk in the post- 
 office a stream of people entered, on one pretext or 
 another, that would have done credit to a town twice 
 the size. He was a very prosperous looking young 
 man in the clothes Mr. Rupert had given him, and 
 almost justified their curiosity.
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 The letter written he began to feel hungry. 
 
 " Is there a place where I can get breakfast ? " he 
 asked the nearest bystander. 
 
 The man brightened. 
 
 " Yes, suh ! At the hotel. I'll show you." 
 
 Morgan followed him to the sidewalk. The man 
 walked beside him. 
 
 " Down here about the cypress ?" he asked genially. 
 
 " The what ? " 
 
 " The cypress trees ? " 
 
 " Oh ! Why, no, I guess not." 
 
 " Come on the boat this mo'nin' ? " asked the other, 
 trying another subject. 
 
 " No." 
 
 Conversation languished for a moment. 
 
 " What is the name of this town ? " demanded 
 Morgan at length. 
 
 The man stopped in his walk. 
 
 " What did you say ? " he inquired bewildered. 
 
 " This town. Has it a name ? " 
 
 The man looked at him as if he had taken leave 
 of his senses. 
 
 " Shorely ! It's Prince Charles. What town did 
 you think you were in ? " 
 
 " I hesitated to form an opinion," he returned. 
 
 72
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 The hotel was a stone structure which looked as 
 if it had been there a very long while, as indeed it 
 had been. The stone was rusty and discolored from 
 a thousand rains. The shutters were great wide 
 shutters that closed over the small paned windows, 
 and were fastened on the outside with an iron bar. 
 A creaking sign bore the legend, " Prince Charles 
 Tavern." Morgan discovered later that this struc- 
 ture was the nucleus of the town. It had been built 
 for the convenience of farmers who for a hundred 
 years had hauled their crops to this point to be 
 ground at the mill and shipped away on sailboats, 
 and later on the little side-wheel steamboat which 
 stopped at Prince Charles two days every week. 
 
 The breakfast at the Prince Charles Tavern was 
 bacon and eggs, hominy grits and hot bread. This 
 is a good breakfast when you and your father and 
 your father's fathers have eaten it all your lives ; or 
 when you have been thrown overboard at midnight, 
 swum a mile and a half to shore, slept on the sand 
 and had nothing to eat until nine in the morning. 
 
 Morgan ate like a man on shore leave. After his 
 meal he was sitting on a bench on the low brick- 
 floored front porch when the man who had piloted 
 him to the hotel, and who had meanwhile been in 
 
 73
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 the office reading the almanac, strolled out and 
 stood by the door-jamb. He was a hollow-cheeked, 
 hollow-chested man of about forty-five, with just a 
 trace of unnatural flush on his thin cheeks. His 
 small gray mustache drooped at the corners of his 
 mouth. He had mild blue eyes, and now and then 
 he coughed a short, ineffectual cough. 
 
 " Much business in this town ? " demanded Mor- 
 gan. It sounded like the proper thing to say, 
 although it seemed strange to say it. The opera- 
 tion of beginning to earn your living unassisted was 
 a formidable one when you did not even have a 
 clue as to how to start. 
 
 " Yes, sir. They's right smart of business in this 
 town farmers bringin' in their co'n and wheat, and 
 hawgs, and purchasin' feed and sto's and one thing 
 and another, and general activity. Yes, sir. They 
 is so." 
 
 " Who's the most influential man in the town ? " 
 
 " Well, now, I don't know as you could say any 
 one man was the mos' influential man, but we have 
 some real influential men. Yes, sir. Now, lemme 
 see. John," he called in the doorway, " who'd you 
 say was the most influential man now in Prince 
 Charles?" 
 
 74
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 The proprietor of the tavern came to the door. 
 
 " I reckon," he said after some thought, " I'd say 
 Joseph Rupert." 
 
 "Yes, sir," chimed in the other, "that's who I'd 
 have said." 
 
 Morgan looked up with interest. 
 
 " If you take the man who's done the most for the 
 community," went on the innkeeper, " there isn't a 
 shadow of a doubt that Mr. Rupert is the most in- 
 fluential person we have. I tell you why. Over 
 yonder" the man pointed westward "about a 
 mile or so, is a thousand acres of cypress swamp. 
 Been lying there for years upon years, and nobody 
 ever thought of disposing of it for money until Mr. 
 Rupert got some gentlemen in New York interested, 
 and they formed a stock company to cut it. And 
 cypress selling at fifty and sixty dollars a thousand 
 in New York City." 
 
 "And they've started to cut it?" demanded the 
 young man, eagerly. Here was a big operation in 
 sight which might mean opportunity. 
 
 " No, sir," put in the thin man, quickly. " They 
 ain't started to cut it." 
 
 Morgan's face fell. 
 
 " You see," the man went on, " it's all got to be 
 
 75
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 dreened first. All those trees is six feet under water 
 almost if not more. That's the first thing they 
 have to do. But when they begin to cut 'em this 
 town is goin' to boom. It is so." 
 
 The innkeeper put his foot up on the bench and 
 leaned on his knee. 
 
 " The thing that Mr. Rupert did that was a benefit 
 to the community, besides getting these gentlemen 
 interested in the timber, was when he allowed every 
 one who wanted to have an interest in the venture. 
 That made it a common enterprise. He sold bonds, 
 absolutely secured by the value of the real estate, 
 paying six per cent, interest, par value one hundred 
 dollars. Almost every one who could bought one 
 or two, or sometimes as high as ten. I have one, 
 myself. Now, I call that square. Some men would 
 have kept it all to themselves, and made all the 
 money themselves, but not Mr. Rupert." 
 
 "Yes, I will say that," observed the other man, 
 with the air of a person who has been arguing 
 strongly against it all along. " Mr. Rupert shore is 
 square" 
 
 Morgan was idly watching an automobile coming 
 down the road, rather surprised that there should be 
 
 such a thing in that part of the world. 
 
 76
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 "Do you know Mr. Rupert, sir?" asked the pro- 
 prietor of the tavern. 
 
 " Why, yes, I do." 
 
 Just then the automobile stopped before the hotel, 
 and he was surprised to hear some one call, " Mr. 
 Morgan." 
 
 " There's Mrs. Rupert now," cried the innkeeper. 
 
 Morgan ran down to the sidewalk. Mrs. Rupert 
 and Miss Marshall were in the car. 
 
 " You left us so unceremoniously this morning," 
 said the former, " that we had no opportunity to 
 find out whether you were to sojourn here longer, or 
 whether you were going to leave immediately." 
 
 " Why, Mrs. Rupert," returned Morgan, " I am 
 going to stay here a long while, if I can find a way 
 to make money." 
 
 " I think you will need to find a way," she said, 
 smiling and showing her white teeth, " if you spend 
 it so lavishly as you did this morning." 
 
 " But see how well they fit." 
 
 " It's very beautiful, I must admit," she observed, 
 glancing critically at his costume. 
 
 Miss Marshall smiled. 
 
 "Much better, isn't it," she asked, "than pink 
 slippers ? " 
 
 77
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 " Well, it's more nearly what men of my age are 
 wearing," he acknowledged. 
 
 " This is nonsense," said the other lady. " We 
 must go. Will you dine with us to-night, Mr. Mor- 
 gan ? Mr. Rupert says he has a proposition to make 
 you." 
 
 He hesitated. From the casual the almost too 
 casual way the invitation was given, he had a feel- 
 ing that, after the dramatic manner of his leaving 
 her house in the morning, she rather expected he 
 would refuse, and desired to give him an opportu- 
 nity to accept as if it were a matter of course. He 
 wanted to accept, certainly. These were very pleas- 
 ant people, and the only object of his decided exit 
 from their house had been to preserve his self-re- 
 spect, a move which sooner or later Mr. Rupert's 
 overbearing manner was bound to make necessary. 
 As the invitation to dinner was in the nature of a 
 peace-offering, he felt that his purpose had been ac- 
 complished, and accepted it without further hesita- 
 tion.
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 MORGAN watched the machine glide down the 
 street with rather a feeling of desolation. He 
 would have liked to detain them and talk to them a 
 little. Already the unaccustomed strangeness of the 
 town was beginning to weigh down on his spirits a 
 little. Loneliness was not a usual thing for him. Liv- 
 ing a life where there were always people about him, 
 he had enjoyed being alone. He had spent days, in 
 his boyhood, by himself reading, but in the house were 
 a score of people to whom he might have turned for 
 companionship. There were rooms which were es- 
 pecially his, where associations accumulated by many 
 years made them comfortable and happy places to 
 be. But now he found himself with no particular 
 spot to call his own, no area, however small, which 
 was home. He was dependent on people alone, and 
 the only two people he could depend on had gone. 
 There would be no opportunity to see them again 
 until evening. He could not remember a time in 
 his life when a period of eight or nine hours seemed 
 such a long time to wait. 
 
 79
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 He knew he did not want other people's society 
 for the sake of their company, or a spot he could call 
 home for the sake of being there. It was not the 
 loneliness of homelessness and friendlessness that 
 oppressed him. It was the dependence he felt on 
 things outside himself. He was starting a fight 
 against the world, an unaccustomed fight, for the 
 thing he had always had most of. His uncertainty 
 in this new position put in him an instinctive desire 
 for moral support, for some assurance that he was 
 not standing alone, but that there were helping hands 
 near in case of need. He did not reason all this out. 
 The word loneliness was far from the front of his 
 mind. He only knew that when the machine rolled 
 away down the street he was sorry out of all propor- 
 tion to the importance of the occurrence. 
 
 He was distinctly pleased then to find his humble 
 friends still on the porch of the hotel when he re- 
 turned. It brightened him up considerably. They 
 both wore an air of deference which he did not at- 
 tach to the fact of his acquaintance with the ladies. 
 
 The hotel-keeper looked at him keenly. 
 
 "I reckon you came down about the cypress ?" he 
 asserted, interrogatively. 
 
 Morgan denied it. 
 
 80
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 " I don't reckon that there is much else a man 
 could come to this town for," the thin man observed, 
 pessimistically. " Now, you're a city man come 
 from New York, perhaps, had a college education, 
 maybe. Why, there just simply ain't anything in 
 this town for a young fellow like you, lessen it is 
 the cypress. No, sir, nothin' 'tall. Ain't I right, 
 John ? " 
 
 " I reckon so, Alexander. But," he added hope- 
 fully, " I think there are better days coming. Cypress 
 is going to make a new town of this village." 
 
 They spoke of Cypress with an implied capital 
 letter as though it were a tutelary goddess on whose 
 good offices alone depended the future of the com- 
 munity. 
 
 " Then," observed Morgan cheerfully, " I think I 
 shall begin to take an interest in cypress." 
 
 He rose in their estimation once more. 
 
 " You're a lumberman, perhaps," said the landlord. 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Maybe you have some new patent machine," 
 put in Alexander, cutting short a staccato cough for 
 the purpose of entering the conversation. " There 
 was a fellow down here last week with a loggin' ma- 
 chine. Completest thing you ever saw. It was so. 
 
 Si
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 Dragged the logs along the ground up to a flat car, 
 picked 'em up, and set 'em down on the car any 
 place you say, and when it got the car full, why it 
 lifted itself up and just naturally pushed the car be- 
 tween its legs, as you might say. Yes, sir; and 
 started loadin' on the next car. Ain't it the truth, 
 John?" 
 
 John assured him it was the truth. 
 
 " No," said Morgan, " I am selling nothing. I be- 
 lieve I'll just look the situation over, and if I feel the 
 enterprise isn't being managed right I'll take a hand 
 in it myself." 
 
 He intended this to be a bit of humor, so that they 
 would not attach too much importance to his inten- 
 tions on the lumber question, but they took him in 
 dead earnest. 
 
 "Well, sir," said the landlord, seriously, "there 
 are some of us who think they are taking too long 
 about going to work on it. Here it's been two years 
 since the bonds were issued and paid for, and not a 
 hand's turn has been done over there." 
 " Perhaps they haven't the money." 
 
 " Well, sir, they claimed they had the ground clear. 
 There's a thousand acres which they claim is worth 
 
 forty dollars an acre, although nobody round here 
 
 82
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 ever paid that much for swamp land. But if it has 
 valuable timber on it, I suppose maybe it is worth 
 that much. That's reasonable. That's forty thou- 
 sand dollars assets, as they call it in the circular. 
 Well, they issued bonds for the whole amount, which 
 gave them forty thousand dollars cash capital. That 
 ought to have been enough to start operations on. 
 Forty thousand dollars will go a long way in this 
 part of the country." 
 
 " I should think it would be enough," said Mor- 
 gan, to whom, however, it did not seem a large sum. 
 It had cost his father three hundred thousand dollars 
 to start a chicken farm in Pennsylvania for his own 
 amusement, on which he produced thirty thousand 
 perfect eggs a year at a net cost over all expenses of 
 one dollar per egg. That was the school in which 
 the young man had learned to appreciate the pur- 
 chasing value of money. 
 
 " How do you get to this cypress swamp ? " he 
 demanded, presently. 
 
 " Why," said Alexander, " you follow the shore 
 down there till you come to a wagon road bearing 
 off to are you thinkin' of going ? " he broke off 
 abruptly. 
 
 " Why, yes." 
 
 83
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 " Well, I reckon I'll go along with you. I hadn't 
 laid out to go along back till this evenin', but as 
 long as I got company I might as well go now. I 
 live down that way," he explained. 
 
 He disappeared into the hotel, and reappeared 
 presently bearing a bag of flour and a ham. 
 
 " You carry the flour, and I'll carry the ham," said 
 Morgan. 
 
 Thus burdened, they went down along the shore, 
 turned back from the water's edge at the wagon- 
 trail, and followed the narrow, deep rutted road back 
 through the woods of tall Southern pines. At a cer- 
 tain point in the road where a fainter track ran off 
 into the deeper woods, his companion stowed the 
 ham and flour in the bushes, and covering them 
 over with some branches which he weighted down 
 with stones, left them there to be called for, and led 
 Morgan over the second road. It was not a much 
 traveled way. In places it could hardly be distin- 
 guished at all. Presently they came to a gentle rise 
 of ground, made rather difficult by boulders and 
 large imbedded rocks, which practically broke up the 
 trail altogether. Then the ground began to fall, the 
 vegetation, which had been rather sparse, running 
 mostly to briars and small tree shoots, became 
 
 84
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 greener and thicker and more luxurious. The ground 
 was soft and spongy underfoot. 
 
 " Right yere is the beginnin' of it," said his guide. 
 
 They went further, stepping from hummock to 
 hummock. They could see in the distance the water 
 shining in the occasional rays of sunlight that filtered 
 through the trees. They were the real cypress trees 
 standing thick in the water. The ones they saw 
 were submerged for from four to six feet, and a per- 
 ceptible ring had grown around the trunks at the 
 point where they rose out of the water. As far as 
 they could see were the cypress trees. 
 
 " They say there's a thousand acres just like that," 
 observed Alexander. 
 
 " Don't see how they can cut it profitably in all 
 that water." 
 
 " Now, they tell me they're goin' to dreen it, a little 
 bit at a time. I had it explained to me, but I don't 
 just recollect the ins and outs of it. It seems they 
 are going to fence off, like, a little bit at a time, and 
 dreen that until the trees are all cut." 
 
 They went back to the top of the rise of ground 
 over which they had come and found it was a ridge 
 that ran all the way around the swamp. They found 
 it ran all the way around, because they followed it 
 
 85
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 the whole way to see a distance of a little over four 
 miles. The newest devotee to the Goddess Cypress 
 wished to find out whether there was an outlet from 
 the swamp. There was none visible, although in- 
 dications of rock formation all along the ridge 
 pointed to the fact that the outlet from the swamp 
 was through fissures in the stone, and that the swamp 
 was simply a rock-bound reservoir, doubtless fed by 
 springs, and the surplus carried off by underground 
 drainage which probably supplied the springs and 
 wells for many miles around. That seemed to be 
 about all the information he could glean by super- 
 ficial observation ; so, finding himself thoroughly 
 tired out, he returned to the hotel and went to bed 
 immediately, having just arranged, entirely to his 
 satisfaction, to be housed and fed there at the rate of 
 three dollars a day (that being just double the regu- 
 lar price). His clothes were in a very sad state, as 
 he had been utterly forgetful of the fact that they 
 were all he had. A dollar to the colored chamber- 
 maid, however, inspired her to promise to press his 
 trousers and blacken his shoes. These matters dis- 
 posed of, he slept in peace until the October sun had 
 disappeared, leaving a crimson sky behind the leaf- 
 less trees in the west. 
 
 86
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 " "IV TOW I have arranged everything for you," said 
 * ^1 Mr. Rupert with a bland air of having satisfac- 
 torily discharged a duty. " As soon as Mrs. Rupert 
 informed me that it was your purpose to stay here I 
 spoke to Miss Torrey on the question of board. She 
 lives with her brother, Dr. Torrey, and they have a 
 very nice house. You are to go there to-morrow, 
 beginning at dinner time. The board and room will 
 be twenty-five dollars a month." 
 
 Morgan wondered how any one could furnish board 
 and room for twenty-five dollars a month, but he was 
 so fascinated by the gentleman's easy assumption of 
 control of himself and his actions that he was per- 
 fectly dumb. 
 
 " So much for that," went on the other composedly. 
 " If you stay here you will, of course, have to have 
 some occupation. You have absolutely no idea of 
 the value of money. You can't go on scattering 
 twenty dollar bills in your wake, and living at the 
 hotel at the rate of three dollars a day. You must 
 
 87
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 cultivate a little judgment and endeavor to be self- 
 supporting." 
 
 " I certainly have every wish to be," said 
 Morgan. 
 
 " You must be. To that end I have made this ar- 
 rangement. I am the cashier of the Savings Bank 
 here, as you know." Morgan resented the " as you 
 know," but he made no comment. " In that posi- 
 tion," went on the other, "I have the privilege of hav- 
 ing two assistants. One of these has been with me 
 for a long while. He is teller, and stays in the bank 
 to transact what business he is capable of in my ab- 
 sence. There has been no second assistant for sev- 
 eral years, but one is necessary. I have decided to 
 give you a trial. Come there to-morrow morning 
 and work hard and endeavor to keep the position. 
 The salary will be fifteen dollars a week. In addi- 
 tion to your regular duties I shall expect you to bring 
 up here to me every evening the mail which arrives 
 at half-past five." 
 
 The supercilious calm of the man was maddening. 
 Morgan's only desire was to make a dramatic 
 speech, and thrust his job back in his teeth, but he 
 was too well aware that this was probably the only 
 
 opportunity that would be offered him of making a 
 
 88
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 living in that small town, so he made no extended 
 reply. 
 
 " I am surely much indebted to you," he said. 
 
 The bank cashier pulled a crumpled twenty-dollar 
 bill out of his pocket and handed it to his new em- 
 ployee. 
 
 " Put that in your pocket," he observed indulgently, 
 " and never write me another of those sic semper 
 tyrannis letters, or I'll have you arrested by the 
 county sheriff if I can get you to wait until some 
 one finds him." 
 
 Morgan laughed at this bit of foolishness. 
 
 " But if you think I am a fugitive from justice " 
 
 " I beg your pardon," cut in Rupert, " you have 
 given me every reason to suppose that everything is 
 not exactly right with you. I think I should not be 
 further asked to commit myself. I have offered you 
 a position in a bank, which seems to me to be a high 
 compliment to a man in your situation. I do not 
 propose to present you with a highly effusive opin- 
 ion of yourself engraved on scented note paper until 
 you have made good by your own acts, since you 
 apparently cannot make good by the recommenda- 
 tion of others." 
 
 Although this tranquil statement was couched in 
 
 89
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 cutting terms, the truth of it was obvious. The new 
 bank clerk therefore made no retort courteous. 
 But he had little love in his heart for his host as 
 he went to join the two ladies in the hall. He was 
 a sensitive person and not accustomed to being 
 prodded all over in vulnerable points by a person 
 with no delicacy of feeling, but he realized or 
 rather he was beginning to realize that a great 
 part of this earning one's living was in restraining 
 one's pride and accepting, without reprisal, the un- 
 smoothed words of those in higher places. 
 
 It was with this distaste of the man that he stepped 
 forward to greet his wife. Then the old question, 
 the very old question, " How could she have mar- 
 ried the man ? " rose in his mind. She was young, 
 graceful, strikingly handsome. Rupert was well, 
 he really was nothing very reprehensible as far as 
 Morgan knew, but Morgan loathed him. So he 
 thought, " How could she love that man ? " 
 
 It would have been a very amusing dinner for 
 him if he could have projected his astral self 
 to a secluded point in the corner of the room and 
 observed the conduct of the four people at the table. 
 There was no doubt in the world that the women 
 
 were a trifle bewildered, and that Mr. Rupert would 
 
 90
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 also have been bewildered, had bewilderment been 
 possible in his mental get-up. But he never ques- 
 tioned the infallibility of his own judgment, which 
 worked instantly in all cases and, having once crys- 
 tallized, never altered. He therefore had the satis- 
 faction of viewing always an orderly world classified 
 properly and irrevocably according to his own stand- 
 ards. It was impossible for Mr. Rupert to be in 
 doubt about anything. 
 
 Mr. Rupert's version of the situation was this, 
 Here is an unknown young man found on the 
 beach, coatless, hatless, shoeless, telling an improb- 
 able story, having no friends. Problem What was 
 his station in the social scale? The answer was 
 easy. Well born, well bred people with savory repu- 
 tations do not fall or jump off steamboats in calm 
 weather, or if they do they immediately telegraph to 
 their friends. Mr. Rupert did not believe Morgan 
 had committed a crime or misdemeanor. He classi- 
 fied him as a member of the respectable lower middle 
 class, who might have run away from home, or a 
 reform school, or a training ship. 
 
 He rather leaned to the training ship idea. 
 There was one lying in Hampton Roads now ; he 
 had seen it a few days before on his trip to Norfolk.
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 Morgan was doubtless being taken down to join it 
 there. But where he came from was of small impor- 
 tance. His complacent benefactor was well assured 
 of the respectable middle class part of the idea, 
 whatever the attendant circumstances. Had it been 
 proved that the new arrival had dropped from the 
 moon he would still have known that he came from 
 middle class society on that planet. 
 
 That having been proved, it was highly aristocratic 
 and philanthropic and altruistic for him to patronize 
 the boy liberally and obtain the credit of having 
 made a man of him. Who knows ? He might turn 
 out to be a poet, or to have a good baritone voice, 
 or perhaps to be an artist, preferably a miniature 
 painter. Yes, on the whole he would like best of 
 all to have him turn out to be a miniature painter, 
 and paint portraits of beautiful women which would 
 sell for fabulous prices. He determined to test his 
 ability to draw at the first opportunity. 
 
 But if Mr. Rupert's view of the situation was ab- 
 solutely clear cut and beyond argument, his wife had 
 still a perfectly open mind regarding the man they 
 had picked up. Predisposed as she was to regard 
 him in the same light as she would any unknown, 
 
 all-clothed person who came to her kitchen door 
 
 92
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 asking for food, the transformation worked in him 
 by the new clothes aroused her lively approval. 
 The first glimpse she had of him in this attire was 
 as he sat on the porch of the hotel. She had recog- 
 nized him immediately. It was an absolutely irre- 
 pressible curiosity that made her call to him, and 
 have him come out in full view where she could have 
 a good look at him and decide whether she could put 
 the seal of her approbation upon him. After gazing 
 upon him with thorough satisfaction she metaphoric- 
 ally offered the seal, and had it been a tangible thing 
 Morgan would have found himself wearing a whole 
 row of them across his coat. That was the way she 
 did things. She was either tremendously enthusiastic 
 or else she looked on with supreme indifference. 
 
 She watched him, completely fascinated, through 
 the dinner, bewildered at his unconsciousness. The 
 Ruperts' house, despite the aversion of its mistress to 
 form and ostentation, was, by reason of her husband's 
 insistance, run in a very strict and formal way. 
 Everything was done in precisely good form. The 
 slightest lapse from correctness in the conduct of the 
 house was not tolerated for an instant by its head. 
 No one but a servant ever opened the front door to 
 a guest. Servants lighted the lights at dusk, turned 
 
 93
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 down the bed covers just before bedtime, and 
 kindled fires in the bedrooms in the mornings. The 
 service at the table was, on all occasions, almost as 
 complete as at a formal dinner. There were numer- 
 ous places therefore where Morgan might have made 
 a false step and ruined his career. 
 
 The simple fact that he did not commit errors 
 would have made no impression on Mrs. Rupert at all. 
 It was the ease with which he chose the channel be- 
 tween Scylla and Charybdis, without being aware of 
 either, that fascinated her. It brought a volume of 
 conjecture to her inquiring mind. The strangeness 
 of the situation held her quite spellbound. What 
 was the history of this man ? At the same time she 
 wondered, she had a certain very decided notion that 
 she should very probably not find out, which made 
 the whole question doubly entertaining. After din- 
 ner she had a talk with him. 
 
 " I have just about decided to marry you to 
 Lenore," she observed. 
 
 This was not exactly true. She had not just about 
 decided to marry him to the lady in question. But 
 she wanted an intimate subject of conversation ; and 
 this subject seemed fairly intimate. It was so much 
 so that it fairly took his breath away. 
 
 94
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 Morgan laughed. 
 
 " Let's get at the bottom of this," he said. " Who 
 is Lenore ? " 
 
 She nodded her head toward Miss Marshall. 
 
 " I'm afraid I'd have to have more pedigree, or 
 something of that sort, wouldn't I ? " 
 
 " I don't know. How much pedigree, or some- 
 thing of that sort, have you ? " 
 
 " Well, how much do you want ? " 
 
 She smiled at this style of conversation. 
 
 " If you ask me," she said, " I should say the less 
 the better. Red blood satisfies me better than the 
 blue variety, anyway." 
 
 " What put this big idea into your head ? " he 
 asked presently, returning to her first subject 
 
 " Pure inspiration," she confessed. And then the 
 other victim of her idea appeared and further con- 
 versation on the subject was impossible. 
 
 However, he thought about it with great interest 
 as he walked home. The humor of it appealed to 
 him. What a great joke was possible in the situa- 
 tion, to be sent away from home by one girl in 
 order to work himself up to a suitable pitch of per- 
 fection, and then, this having been accomplished, to 
 marry another. Of course it was hard to decide at 
 
 95
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 whose expense the joke would be, but nevertheless it 
 would be real humor. 
 
 Arriving at the hotel he wrote a letter to Made- 
 leine, bringing his history up to date, and telling her 
 about the new idea. It started out very jovially and 
 pleasantly, telling about his adventures and the 
 queer turn life had taken, but as he worked along 
 through it, touching at every turn upon things of her 
 life that were far away and that he would not see for 
 nearly four hundred days just as long as the one he 
 had gone through, he sank further and further into 
 the Slough of Despond, until at last he was so over- 
 whelmed with loneliness that it was not even a com- 
 fort to write to her. So he stopped the letter 
 abruptly and, taking up a dismal oil lamp covered 
 with stiff dead moths, stumbled up the stairs to 
 bed, thoroughly tired of earning his living. 
 
 96
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 A WEEK is a very long space of time. A week 
 amid unfamiliar surroundings, without friends, 
 at strange employment, might give any one a very 
 fair idea of what is meant by eons of time. Morgan 
 Holt thought it would never pass by. After an 
 eternity of being Tuesday, it was still Tuesday. 
 And at noon on Wednesday, when it seemed as if 
 they must at least have got on as far as Thursday or 
 Friday, it was still just Wednesday. Nothing is 
 more discouraging than watching the slow proces- 
 sion of the days of the week, when they will not 
 hasten by, and there is nothing to look forward to 
 when they have hastened by. 
 
 Morgan's week had been made more dismal by 
 the receipt of a letter from Madeleine, a long, happy, 
 chatty letter, telling him everything that was going 
 on, commiserating with him on his loneliness by as- 
 suring him that he would not mind it so much after 
 he got used to it. It was a most discouraging letter. 
 It was too happy. But why shouldn't she be happy ? 
 They were not engaged. He had thought when he 
 
 97
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 first saw it that this letter would surely be balm for 
 his soul. It seemed a desecration to read it in the 
 bank. He had put it in his pocket and kept it until 
 night, almost contented in the anticipation of it. He 
 felt somehow that it was going to prove to be a mirac- 
 ulous letter a letter containing the atom of hap- 
 piness. 
 
 The thing he expected, in his mind warped with 
 loneliness, was a letter no girl could have written. 
 Only the Recording Angel himself, with his vast 
 knowledge of men in just such positions, and the 
 facility of expression born of long practice in writing, 
 could have penned such an epistle. He found 
 Madeleine's letter was just an ordinary letter, written 
 by an ordinary human girl, setting down just the 
 thoughts that were in her mind, without the idea of 
 lifting its recipient out of the depths of his despair. 
 He could not help being discouraged. 
 
 Being a fifteen-dollar-a-week clerk in a very small 
 bank, with a small, exact, precise person whose 
 brain was adjusted like a micrometer screw to meas- 
 ure hairs and fractions of hairs to minutely super- 
 vise his work and minutely lay it out in advance, 
 was no cure for depression. Peters, the receiving- 
 teller, paying-teller, note clerk and general jackal 
 
 98
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 for Mr. Rupert, was just such a person. Precision 
 was the key-note of his character. He arrived at the 
 bank at exactly a quarter past eight every morning 
 and left at exactly a quarter to six. It was a glorious 
 sight to see the little gentleman in a cutaway coat 
 riding his bicycle very precisely down the street, 
 each stroke on the pedals taken in perfect cadence, 
 slow time, probably coinciding following some care- 
 fully worked out system with every third or every 
 fourth respiration. What would have happened had 
 something got in his way and made him go faster or 
 slower, is not known. But nothing ever did get in 
 his way. The whole solar system seemed to recog- 
 nize the quality of his precision and concede that he 
 was entitled to his orbit, for nothing ever interrupted 
 the serene regularity of his ways. 
 
 At twelve o'clock noon, Mr. Peters retired to the 
 same remote corner of the bank, sat in the same 
 chair, in the same erect position, and decorously 
 consumed a luncheon, consisting eternally of one 
 ham sandwich, one jelly sandwich, two small pickles, 
 and a raisin pie. He contrived to do this with a 
 dignity and poise that would have done credit to 
 Mr. Rupert sitting at the head of his own table. 
 This accomplished, he picked up all the crumbs and 
 
 99
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 other casual debris from the meal and deposited 
 them in the waste-basket, carefully saving the string 
 the package had been tied with to tie the package 
 on the following day. He then removed his coat 
 and, taking a neat little whisk-broom from its own 
 identical nail, brushed his coat and suit with sharp, 
 brisk strokes, inch by inch, until it was thoroughly 
 clean. Refreshed in this manner, he was then ready 
 to resume business for the afternoon. 
 
 " Now, Mr. Morgan," he would say, with the for- 
 mality befitting his position, " perhaps I am a lit- tie 
 particular on this point, but I prefer to have the fig- 
 ure 4 made with the strokes meeting at the top." 
 
 " Yes, sir," returned Morgan, briskly. 
 
 " And your additions," pursued the other, " per- 
 haps you do them a trifle too fast. I fear for their ac- 
 curacy. And accuracy, you know, in a bank is very 
 essential ver-y." Mr. Peters shook his head em- 
 phatically. " Now observe. You add up the first 
 column and set down the digit to be carried in a 
 legible manner just below thus. I note that you 
 have not been doing this. It is very essential 
 ver-y. It assists so wonderfully in proving your 
 total." 
 
 Now Morgan had the knack or the gift inherited 
 
 IOO
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 from his father, of adding up a column of three or 
 four figures in one operation. To people who add 
 up one row at a time, it is a very wonderful thing ; 
 but it is really not difficult if a person has concentra- 
 tion enough to give all the open space in his mind 
 entirely to the figures. He remembered his father's 
 extreme delight when, as a boy, one day he had 
 shown him, with conscious pride, his new accom- 
 plishment. And his father had immediately secured 
 him a tutor who was a specialist in mathematics. 
 With him, the boy, during the following three or four 
 years, had gone deep into calculus and geometry ; 
 and at the suggestion of his father (who found his 
 own ignorance of the principles which governed the 
 operation of one-half the machines and devices which 
 had been mainly instrumental in the accumulation of 
 his wealth, disconcerting, if not actually a handicap 
 to him) they studied mechanics, physics, hydraulics, 
 and electricity. The boy had had a half-horse power, 
 single-phase motor in his workshop in the house and 
 he used to blow out the fuses and leave the house in 
 darkness regularly, until they put in a separate wire 
 for him. He was therefore quite at home with 
 figures and mathematics generally. But he had 
 
 never explained this facility to Mr. Peters, as it had 
 
 101
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 an air of being what he would have called " chesty." 
 But one morning it happened to be Saturday 
 morning at the end of the interminable week, and 
 the thick gloom seemed to have lifted a little he 
 felt in rather a pleasant humor and casually brought 
 the matter to the little gentleman's attention. 
 
 " Ah/' Mr. Peters had been saying, holding aloft 
 an admonishing finger, " ah ! What have I been 
 saying about setting down the digit you are going 
 to carry ? " 
 
 " But, Mr. Peters," returned Morgan on this occa- 
 sion, " I never know what it is." 
 
 Mr. Peters was thoroughly aghast. 
 
 " Not " he began, amazed; but in this crisis 
 
 words failed him. 
 
 His companion copied from the book before him 
 the amounts of some one's various deposits from the 
 date his passbook had last been balanced, making a 
 column of some twenty items ; and, running his 
 pencil slowly down it, set a sum at the end of it. 
 
 " I wish you would check that, please." 
 
 The little man elevated his chin to get a better 
 view of the paper through his glasses, and painstak- 
 ingly ran his pencil down the column, pausing at 
 
 each figure and making an almost inaudible noise 
 
 102
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 with his tongue against the roof of his mouth as 
 though he were saying numbers over to himself. 
 He completed the operation, passed his hand be- 
 wilderedly over the hair at the back of his head ; and 
 then, without a word, added the figures up all over 
 again. Then he took off his glasses and polished 
 them to cover his extreme agitation. 
 
 "Well, well," he said, at length, breathing the 
 words rather than speaking them. " Well, well." 
 
 He took a turn up and down the room, his hands 
 thrust under the tails of his cutaway coat until they 
 stood out straight behind him. Then, sitting down 
 abruptly at his desk, he proceeded with his work. 
 
 But at half-past ten, when he usually stepped over 
 to the sink to wash his hands, he spoke of the sub- 
 ject. 
 
 " The possession by some persons of such a facil- 
 ity with figures," he observed, slowly, " is a fact that 
 has been brought to my attention, but I never have 
 actually seen it demonstrated. It is very instruct- 
 ive." 
 
 He dried his hands to the finger-tips, turned down 
 his cuffs, and, opening a drawer, took out a small 
 round object, about twice the size of an ordinary 
 watch. 
 
 103
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 " I sometimes think," he said, in explanation of 
 this unbank-like proceeding, " that a Ijttle relaxation, 
 of not more than five minutes' duration, during busi- 
 ness hours, is beneficial. Your interest in mathe- 
 matics will make this little instrument a pleasing ob- 
 ject to you, no doubt." 
 
 Morgan took it. 
 
 " It is an aneroid barometer, isn't it ? " he asked. 
 
 " Ah 1 I see you know. Not at all a precise in- 
 strument, but wonderfully instructive wonderfully 
 instructive. I frequently take it with me on the short 
 bicycle rides I indulge in on Sundays, in order that 
 I may determine the elevation of the ground thus 
 gauging," he observed with a little touch of pride, 
 " my prowess as a cyclist." 
 
 Morgan did not smile. 
 
 "That is always a fine thing to know," he said, 
 gravely. 
 
 " I find out what the barometer registers at the 
 high-water mark first. You will observe it is 
 graduated in multiples of feet. It is said the in- 
 strument will not register differences of level of less 
 than twenty feet, but I can notice a perceptible 
 change at the shore of the bay and at the front step 
 
 of the bank, which is officially a difference of only 
 
 104
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 twelve feet. In that way I can determine the 
 elevation of any eminence of land where I may 
 be, that is, within, say, fifteen feet, with reference to 
 high water." 
 
 He put the little instrument carefully back in the 
 drawer. 
 
 " Mr. Peters," said Morgan, suddenly, " will you 
 lend me that barometer?" 
 
 " I should be pleased to do so," observed Mr. 
 Peters, a little doubtfully, however, as he had never 
 in his life loaned one of his possessions to any one. 
 
 " This afternoon, say," persisted his assistant. 
 
 The other took the thing out of the drawer with a 
 caressing gesture. 
 
 " You will, of course, exercise extreme care with 
 it?" he asked. 
 
 " As if it were my own child." 
 
 " Very well, then. I will give it to you when you 
 leave for the day." 
 
 But the little man seemed depressed all the rest 
 of the morning, and when he turned the barometer 
 over to Morgan at two o'clock, he did it with the 
 air of an intrepid mariner bidding farewell to his 
 aged mother. 
 
 The day was one of those clear sunny days that 
 
 105
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 happen in October, when the sun is pleasantly warm 
 and the fallen leaves lie still on the ground, and 
 belated flies buzz importantly about, as if possessed 
 of advance information that this year there are to be 
 two summers in succession. A good part of the 
 despondency was baked out of Morgan by the sun- 
 light that poured in the banking room all morning. 
 And when finally the key turned in the bank door, 
 he hastily said good-bye to Mr. Peters and thrusting 
 the barometer into his pocket made for the shore as 
 quickly as possible. A stake there marked the high- 
 water point. He held the barometer there and made 
 a note of the reading that would have done credit 
 to the precision of Mr. Peters himself. 
 
 He followed the path he and Alexander had taken 
 the day he had first come to the town. It was a 
 fine walk through the woods. The slanting rays of 
 the sun shot through the trees, illuminating the un- 
 expectedly brilliant scarlet of the dogwoods, falling 
 in uneven bright patches on the yellow leaves that 
 strewed the path and rustled pleasantly underfoot. 
 In the cleared spots, he looked up at the expanse of 
 blue sky, where very high above the trees floated a 
 hawk, and made no motion with his wings. 
 
 His mission was this. It was evident, from the 
 
 1 06
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 casual conversation he had heard, that it was the 
 general impression that the swamp could not be 
 drained as a whole, but that a portion of it would 
 have to be drained at a time by pumping the water 
 from that portion into the rest of the swamp and 
 keeping it pumped dry until the timber was cut. 
 This would indicate that it was believed that the 
 water in the swamp was either the same as sea 
 level, or below it. Otherwise it could be drained by 
 cutting a channel through to the bay. He wished 
 to find out what the level of the water in the swamp 
 actually was. 
 
 He had no particular reason for wishing to find 
 this out. He did not know what he should do with 
 such a piece of information if he had it. It was just 
 a mild curiosity, backed by a feeling that the swamp 
 must be higher than the waters of the bay. And to 
 his delight, when he made his investigation, with the 
 aid of the aneroid barometer, he found this was in- 
 deed true ! 
 
 When he discovered it, he was hot with excite- 
 ment, tempered with a misgiving as to the accuracy 
 of the barometer. He had taken the little instru- 
 ment to the crest of the rise of land that surrounded 
 
 the swamp and discovered that it had now lowered 
 
 107
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 perceptibly, indicating on the dial a rise in level 
 of somewhere between thirty-five and fifty feet 
 above high-water level. He then went down to the 
 water in the swamp and found that the rise of the 
 barometer was scarcely noticeable. This would indi- 
 cate that the swamp was not more than twenty feet 
 below. If the crest was, as the barometer showed, 
 thirty-five feet above high water and the swamp was 
 twenty feet below the crest, then the swamp must be 
 at least fifteen feet above high water. 
 
 As the afternoon was beginning to wane, he 
 strolled back along the wooded path, his hands in 
 his pockets, absently unaware of what was hap- 
 pening around him. He did not see the cottontailed 
 rabbit spring up suddenly beside the road and make 
 off through the woods with great high bounds. 
 He did not look out through the trees at the light of 
 the afternoon sun, falling slantwise on the red fallow 
 land. There was no Slough of Despond now. He 
 held in his hand now the key to something. It 
 might turn out to be worthless, and it might turn 
 out to be all important. But the satisfactory thing 
 was that he knew, and he felt he was the only one 
 who did know. 
 
 1 08
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 " ^URELY," said Miss Marshall, "you are going 
 
 v-3 to let us have a part of the road." 
 
 Morgan started. 
 
 "Just a little," added Mrs. Rupert, "enough so 
 we can pass by in single file." 
 
 The young man began to laugh. 
 
 " I was thinking about great big things," he said. 
 
 "Just what?" 
 
 " Spanish castles, I'm afraid." 
 
 " Oh, shame for being so far behind the times. 
 Spanish castles are all out of date." 
 
 "Yes, indeed," seconded Miss Marshall. "Just 
 like hoop-skirts." 
 
 "You are certain of this?" he demanded. 
 
 " Absolutely," they affirmed together. 
 
 " This is serious business. I regret to hear of the 
 falling of these old Spanish castles from grace. I 
 had just built a fine one, in the past quarter of an 
 hour, of the most approved modern fire-proof, rein- 
 forced-concrete type, steam heat, five bath-rooms, 
 
 hot and cold water, electric curling irons, and swim- 
 
 109
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 ming pool in the basement. If you say they are 
 not de rigeur, however, I certainly shall have to 
 sell it." 
 
 " Oh, no," said Miss Marshall, "give it to me." 
 
 " Not at all," he returned, firmly. " I scent a 
 bear market. You are endeavoring to lower quota- 
 tions on Spanish castles to such a point that I shall 
 give them away." 
 
 " Tell me," said Mrs. Rupert. " This castle. 
 What does it mean ? Are you going to be rich ? " 
 
 " Not unduly." 
 
 "Are you in love?" 
 
 He began to laugh. 
 
 " That is one of the questions we answer only by 
 mail, if you send a stamped and addressed envelope." 
 
 " I shall certainly do it." 
 
 " And he won't tell you a thing," observed Miss 
 Marshall. 
 
 "Oh, yes, he will. I've taken his destiny in 
 hand. He hesitates to tell me when you yourself 
 are present," she added mischievously. 
 
 The color mounted in the girl's cheeks. 
 
 "You are very bold, Barbara Rupert," she pro- 
 tested. 
 
 Mrs. Rupert changed the subject quickly. 
 
 no
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 "A pertinent question," she said to Morgan. 
 " Where are you going ? " 
 
 " Home, but I have a thousand hours to get there," 
 he replied. 
 
 This was pure exaggeration. 
 
 " Why not come with us ? " 
 
 " All right. Where are we going ? " 
 
 " We are taking some chicken broth and some 
 jelly to poor old Alexander Berry." 
 
 " Oh, yes," said Morgan, " Alexander ! I know 
 all about him." 
 
 " You do ? " said Mrs. Rupert, a little surprised. 
 
 " Old friend of mine. Is he ill ? " 
 
 " Well, he has just had another ' spell.' He catches 
 a new cold every month or so, and he has a very 
 hard time living all alone out here, with no one to 
 take care of him." 
 
 " I certainly want to go," said Morgan. 
 
 About a quarter of a mile further up the road they 
 came presently upon the house where the sick man 
 lived. It was set back from the road under the 
 shelter of six or eight great oak trees, which towered 
 above the stone house. They walked across the 
 unkempt space that might have been called the 
 
 lawn, on a path of wide flat stepping-stones set in 
 
 in
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 the ground. The place had an unambitious, uncer- 
 tain aspect, such as you might expect of the house 
 where Alexander lived. 
 
 They found him sitting on the front porch of the 
 house, bundled up in a greatcoat, his eyes bright 
 with fever. He rose to his feet when he saw them, 
 and walked unsteadily down the steps to greet them. 
 
 " I sho' am glad to see you all," he said. 
 
 " Dr. Torrey says you've been sick." 
 
 " Yes'm. I'm right po'ly." He began to cough 
 and drew his coat around him closely, as though he 
 were cold. " Come up and set down," he said. 
 " Set right down." 
 
 "Why aren't you in bed," demanded Mrs. Ru- 
 pert, " instead of sitting up here trying to pretend 
 you're well ? " 
 
 " I jest had to feed the chickens. I did so. I was 
 layin' in there on the bed, listenin' to them patter, 
 patter acrost the po'ch, knowin' they hadn't had 
 nothin' to eat since yeste'day. So fin'ly I couldn't 
 stand it no longer, and I jes' had to step out and 
 feed them. And, my, but they was glad to see me ! " 
 
 " You must go right back to bed again," said Mrs. 
 Rupert, firmly. 
 
 " Yes'm. I was expectin' to. Sometimes," he 
 
 112
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 said, " I'm a-burnin' up, I'm so hot, and sometimes 
 I'm a-shiverin' with the cold." 
 
 " Did Dr. Torrey leave you some medicine? " 
 
 " Yes'm. But Mis' Rupert, it's such thin stuff, jes' 
 like water. I don't believe Doc Torrey is the same 
 doctor like he used to be. He used to leave me 
 strong medicines, and, my, but they was bitter ! 
 They did me real good. But I don't set no store by 
 these sweetish medicines. They don't seem to take 
 hold. Ain't that so, sir ? " he said, turning to Mor- 
 gan. 
 
 " Perhaps," said Morgan, with some perspicuity, 
 " that is because you don't take the medicine." 
 
 " Well, sir, I took a little of it," insisted the other, 
 stoutly. " But it seemed like I might jes' as well 
 take a cup of water outen of the well. Yes, sir. 
 That's the way it looked to me." 
 
 Morgan laughed. 
 
 " Come with me and go to bed," he said. 
 
 Mrs. Rupert touched him on the arm. 
 
 " A hot mustard foot bath is the best thing on such 
 an occasion." 
 
 " Very good," said Morgan, " if you will get it 
 ready, I will give it to him, at the point of a shot- 
 gun, if necessary."
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 In the course of half an hour the invalid had 
 taken his medicine and his foot bath and was sound 
 asleep in bed. 
 
 " If you think you can both get home before dark," 
 Morgan told the two ladies, " I believe I shall stay 
 here with him." 
 
 " There is no use in staying here." 
 
 " Well, he's ill. And when you're ill, you're 
 lonely. And there's nothing worse than being 
 lonely." 
 
 Mrs. Rupert looked at him with a glance of un- 
 derstanding. 
 
 "Very well," she said. 
 
 He walked with them as far as the village, where 
 they found their automobile, waiting to meet a busi- 
 ness acquaintance of Mr. Rupert's, who was coming 
 over on the mail stage that arrived every evening at 
 half-past five from the railroad fifteen miles away. 
 
 When he returned to Berry's house, it was dark. 
 He stumbled about in the hallway until he found 
 lamps and lighted them. In the kitchen, he dis- 
 covered a lantern, which he lighted and took du- 
 biously out into the night with the idea of locking 
 up the chickens and whatever other living things 
 
 there might be. He closed the door to the chicken 
 
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 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 house. But when he entered the little stable, he 
 found it entirely deserted, with no signs of any 
 living thing having been there lately. On his way 
 back to the house, he gathered up an armful of 
 wood and, making a cheerful fire in the fireplace of 
 the low-ceilinged living-room, sat down patiently 
 before it and industriously read the contents of the 
 Farmer's Companion from cover to cover, including 
 the poetry. All this while the sick man slept, his 
 deep breathing audible all over the still house. 
 
 The silence at length began to wear a little on his 
 nerves. Absolute stillness is a strange thing. We 
 are so used to sounds about us : the rattle of wheels 
 on the road or street outside, the noise of water run- 
 ning in the pipes, the voice of some one singing, the 
 distant rumble of a train, and all the sounds that 
 reassure us of the presence of other human beings, 
 that we do not realize that they mean anything to 
 us. But when they are removed, it seems as if one 
 must be the only inhabitant of the whole world. 
 Morgan found himself, when at length he had 
 exhausted the contents of the Farmer's Companion 
 and left his place by the fire with an idea of getting 
 something to eat, unconsciously tiptoeing about, al- 
 most deafened by the sound of his own footsteps.
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 He discovered very little in the way of provisions 
 in the house, however. Berry had evidently been 
 living for the whole week on the ham and the flour 
 he had brought home with Morgan's help, eked out 
 by a few potatoes. The shelves in the pantry were 
 almost entirely empty. There was about a cupful of 
 sugar in the bottom of a small bag ; a tin canister in 
 which there was still the odor of coffee, but nothing 
 else. The lard can contained only a mouse, which 
 scrambled out when he lifted the lid, He found a 
 small quantity of salt. 
 
 He wondered how it was possible to live on such 
 a meager store. At length, having a healthy ap- 
 petite, stimulated by his exercise during the after- 
 noon, he found he could stand his hunger no longer 
 and decided to go down to the village to get food. 
 His patient was still sleeping soundly and, being 
 thoroughly exhausted, would sleep until he returned, 
 and doubtless a good while longer. 
 
 He therefore covered the fire with wood ashes, 
 saw that all the doors and windows were locked and, 
 turning low the lamp in the living-room, took the 
 lantern with him and left the house. At the end of 
 the path, however, he met John Anderson, the 
 
 proprietor of the hotel. 
 
 116
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 " Is old Alexander very sick ? " Anderson asked, 
 surprised at seeing Morgan. 
 
 The latter nodded. 
 
 " Has a high fever. But he is sleeping it off now. 
 I am going after food." 
 
 " Very good," returned the hotel-keeper. " I will 
 stay until you come back." 
 
 Morgan bought out the store nearly. On his 
 way to the village he had made out a list of things 
 that were necessary not for that night only but to 
 fit out the pantry properly. He had in his pocket 
 fifteen dollars, his weekly salary. It did not surprise 
 him to find that the bill for what he purchased came 
 to ten dollars and eighty cents. His spirit was not 
 cramped and overawed by the bugaboo of economy. 
 His training naturally had made him oblivious of 
 the fact that economy extended to such small sums 
 of money as ten or twenty dollars. The only real 
 idea of economy his father had instilled into him was 
 not to spend any money at all unless it was neces- 
 sary. In this case, it was clearly necessary, so he 
 passed over his three five dollar bills and, thrusting 
 the change contentedly in a wad into his trousers 
 pocket, rode back to the house in the grocer's 
 
 delivery wagon ; which, by virtue of its being Satur- 
 
 117
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 day evening and the purchase being a large one, 
 was allowed to deliver things at that hour. 
 
 It took John Anderson and the boy and himself 
 nearly five minutes to unload the wagon when they 
 got there. Anderson was considerably impressed. 
 He felt that this young man must be a person of 
 much more importance than he had at first imagined. 
 Perhaps he was a business man who had heard of 
 the probable boom of Prince Charles and might be 
 considering the feasibility of building a factory 
 (Anderson felt that the first sign of prosperity in a 
 town was the erection of a factory) or extending a 
 branch over from the main line of the railroad. 
 
 Morgan was in high spirits. 
 
 " You haven't had dinner, have you ? " he asked. 
 
 The other admitted he had not, but insisted that it 
 was waiting for him at that moment at home. 
 
 " Oh, pshaw," cried the young man, " don't go to 
 a hotel when you have a chance of trying home 
 cooking." 
 
 Whether this reasoning appealed to the hotel- 
 keeper or not, he stayed, and between them, they 
 prepared a most nutritious and appetizing meal. 
 Morgan, who had been hunting with his father on 
 
 one or two occasions and had helped the guides with 
 
 118
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 the meals, knew how to prepare one or two things ; 
 and Anderson, being a hotel-keeper, had a rudi- 
 mentary idea of cooking. They created, therefore, 
 a wonderful meal, which to their unprejudiced minds 
 was the best thing of its kind they had ever eaten. 
 The fire roared in the dining-room fireplace. The 
 meat and the vegetables and the incredible gravy 
 sat in the utensils in which they had been cooked. 
 The coffee-pot nestled steaming against the and- 
 irons. No count was kept of the times one or the 
 other of them rose from the table and, carrying 
 a skillet by the handle enswathed in his handker- 
 chief, joyfully replenished the plates. And when 
 at length they moved back their chairs, and sur- 
 veyed the havoc they had made, they felt wondrously 
 content. 
 
 " Mr. Morgan," said Anderson, at length, through 
 the clouds of smoke from his pipe, " you are a city 
 man and a little more versed in the ways of business 
 than I am, so I want to ask you a question." 
 
 Morgan did not feel that that description of him 
 was very accurate, but nevertheless he said he would 
 do his best to answer the question. 
 
 " Well, you see," went on the other, " it's about 
 
 this cypress business." 
 
 119
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 " What's happened now ? " asked Morgan, 
 quietly. 
 
 " Why, I'll be blowed if they haven't got out an- 
 other issue of bonds." 
 
 " Another issue ? " 
 
 " Well, I don't know as you could say it was an- 
 other issue either. It seems to be a kind of substi- 
 tute." 
 
 " I don't understand you." 
 
 " It's like this. All of us, you see, have got first- 
 mortgage bonds bearing six per cent." 
 
 " Yes. You told me that." 
 
 " And now the company sends out this circular 
 saying that they haven't quite enough money to start 
 cutting the timber in the proper manner and it is to 
 the interest of all the bond-holders to cooperate with 
 the company in its endeavor to obtain more funds in 
 order that the cutting may be started at the earliest 
 possible moment. I almost have the words by heart, 
 I read it so often." 
 
 " It sounds like a circular to bond-holders," 
 observed Morgan, whose mail had been full of such 
 things. 
 
 " And the method they propose to get the money 
 
 by is this : they are going to issue second-mortgage 
 
 1 20
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 bonds paying eight per cent., secured by the plant and 
 improvements." 
 
 " Which don't exist." 
 
 " But they will. These fellows have got too much 
 money in the venture to draw back now." 
 
 " Perhaps so. Go on." 
 
 " Well, they offer to exchange second-mortgage 
 bonds bearing eight per cent, for our first-mortgage 
 bonds, bearing only six per cent., you understand, 
 without any additional cost. Now that certainly 
 seems liberal." 
 
 " Why do they wish to do that?" 
 
 " Their idea is to have the first-mortgage bonds 
 which, they say, are gilt-edged security, and as good 
 as bank notes anywhere, in reserve, so that they may 
 realize on them quickly in case of need. They say 
 they will probably not have to use more than a quar- 
 ter of the issue this way." 
 
 " Probably ? " asked Morgan. 
 
 " Yes. And they will not sell the second-mort- 
 gage bonds. They are only given in exchange. It 
 seems like a good opportunity for me to get eight 
 per cent, on my money. What do you think ? " 
 
 Morgan moved his chair over to the fire. 
 
 " Well, I don't know," he said, cautiously. " My 
 
 121
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 father used to say that money was not worth eight 
 per cent. If any one has good security, he can get 
 all the money he wants for six per cent." 
 
 " Then you wouldn't exchange ? " 
 
 " / wouldn't." 
 
 He was silent for some time. He wondered what 
 made the backers of the cypress deal, instead of 
 starting to cut timber with the forty thousand dollars 
 they were supposed to have, descend instead to 
 manipulation of their bond issues. He felt that his 
 father, if alive, could have put his finger on the 
 probable reason. But, following the line of reason- 
 ing he knew his father would have adopted, it was 
 evident to him that there was something crooked in 
 the cypress transaction somewhere. 
 
 122
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 ON the following morning, Morgan Holt, awaken- 
 ing in his chintz-curtained bedroom at Miss 
 Torrey's, had a new experience in life, that is, his 
 first participation in a real Sunday morning a morn- 
 ing when one could lie in bed and not be compelled 
 to tumble out hastily, dress, bathe, and shave with 
 his eye on his watch, eat breakfast in just about five 
 minutes less time than he would like to have had, 
 and hurry down the street on a dog-trot in order not 
 to be late. This morning he tasted of the luxurious 
 delight of lying abed, comfortable, unhurried, con- 
 tented, watching the sunshine pouring in his window 
 and the robin hopping companionably on the win- 
 dow sill. 
 
 Morgan's room was neater than a new pin. The 
 scarf on the bureau was stiffly snow-white and set 
 with its edge precisely parallel with the edge of the 
 bureau. The quaint rag rug that reinforced the 
 carpet before the bureau was also set parallel with 
 
 the bureau. Morgan knew these things because 
 
 123
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 when he, unconsciously, with his profane hands or 
 feet, deranged them, he would find a note from Miss 
 Torrey on his pincushion in the evening calling his 
 attention, in hurt surprise, to his misdemeanor. On 
 a little table beside the bureau was a newspaper 
 covering, neatly scalloped, on which, and on no other 
 object, the lamp was supposed to rest. Putting it 
 on the bureau scarf brought forth a very long note 
 indeed. The chintz curtains that draped the windows 
 were very prim. Beside them were two permanent 
 inscriptions. One said : " Please put curtains over 
 a chair when the window is open." The message of 
 the other was : " Lower the shades when dressing." 
 As this last was in the room when he came into it, 
 he felt that it was meant as a preventative. 
 
 It seemed to Morgan that the whole house was 
 annotated. The rubrics in the bath room called 
 attention to the fact that a certain little brush was 
 meant for purifying the bath-tub after use and 
 should be returned to its place when it had served 
 its purpose ; that certain soap was to be used for 
 bathing and certain other at the washstand only ; 
 care was to be taken not to splash water on the 
 piece of starched linen that was hung up to keep 
 
 water from being splashed on the wall ; and so 
 
 124
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 forth indefinitely a new by-law springing into ex- 
 istence every day. 
 
 All these things were a great joy to Morgan and 
 he obeyed the rules implicitly when he was not in 
 
 a hurry But one lapse ended all the good of 
 
 many days of observance in Miss Torrey's eyes, so 
 that he was constantly compelling the little lady to 
 make things more and more Morgan-proof. 
 
 When the clock down-stairs struck eight, he got 
 up. He had had a good night's rest. At ten o'clock 
 the night before, Alexander Berry had awakened 
 cheerful, his temperature normal (as Morgan had 
 ascertained by the clinical thermometer he had pur- 
 chased at the village drug store) and very hungry. 
 They gave him the chicken broth Mrs. Rupert had 
 brought him, prevented him forcibly from going into 
 a dissertation on how to get a crop of strawberries 
 the first year, and put him back to sleep again. As 
 Anderson announced his intention of staying all 
 night and there did not appear to be bedclothes 
 enough to make it advisable for them both to stay, 
 Morgan had come home, doubtless shocking Miss 
 Torrey dreadfully by the lateness of his returning, 
 that lady, in common with the rest of the village, 
 
 being very much asleep by nine o'clock. 
 
 125
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 Miss Torrey was as exceedingly prim and exact 
 in her own appearance as was her house. Nothing 
 was left to chance. Her thin gray hair was brushed 
 taut and flat across her high aristocratic forehead. 
 She wore a white lace shawl over her thin shoulders, 
 pinned everlastingly flat in its place. An old-fash- 
 ioned black brooch caught the points of it. Her 
 dress was always black, with no tucks or plaits. 
 Her thin lips met in a straight line that a portrait 
 painter might have drawn with the aid of a straight- 
 edge. She talked all the time, freeing to the air all 
 the random thoughts that generated in her active 
 little head. She was sensitive as a child and was 
 hurt to the very quick if any one disagreed with her, 
 or seemed to disregard her. 
 
 " I should have preferred to have you send me 
 word if you were going to be late last night," she 
 said to Morgan when he came down to breakfast 
 not that it would have been information to her, as she 
 had discovered, as she discovered everything that 
 went on in the village, just where he was and why. 
 " Of course, I wouldn't be unreasonable. I always 
 endeavor not to be unreasonable. But just a word 
 would have been sufficient You needn't have come 
 
 all the way here. You could have come to the other 
 
 126
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 end of the village and telephoned from the mill. And 
 poor Mr. Berry, how is he ? I know he must be better, 
 though, or you wouldn't have come home. I left 
 the door on the latch for you, and I was distressed 
 
 for fear, you know They say every one in 
 
 Prince Charles is honest, but I don't trust them. 
 Not I. Poor Mr. Berry. Such poor health. If 
 he could only get away from this climate. That's 
 what I say. If he could only get away. Don't you 
 think so, James ? He's ill so much. What do you 
 think ? " 
 
 There always came a point in the good little 
 lady's monologue when she ran out of breath, or 
 feared every one had forgotten she was still talking. 
 Then she would pause to see if any one would an- 
 swer her question. Her brother looked up from the 
 paper beside his plate. 
 
 " Yes, yes," he said, vaguely. 
 
 " Has he consumption ? " Morgan asked. 
 
 " Yes. Far gone," returned the doctor. " Try to 
 get him to go out to his brother's in Arizona. But 
 it seems he'd rather die here than live anywhere 
 else." 
 
 " Now isn't that pathetic? " pattered Miss Torrey. 
 
 " Rather die here than live anywhere else. But 
 
 127
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 that's the way of the world. Home, you know. I 
 couldn't live anywhere else. James couldn't, I 
 know. Could you, James ? I know he just 
 couldn't " 
 
 " That's nonsense, Cordelia," put in the doctor, 
 unfeelingly, answering a question in the middle of 
 her speech. " I could live somewhere else, and 
 what's more, I think I will live somewhere else, if 
 all this talk about bonds and high finance doesn't 
 soon let up. Man last night, throat so bad he 
 couldn't speak above a whisper, talked to me half 
 an hour about second-mortgage bonds. Everybody 
 is going to get rich. If things don't calm down 
 soon, Mr. Morgan, I think I shall have to have 
 printed on my letter-heads that conversation about 
 cypress trees will be charged for at regular rates by 
 the hour." 
 
 " Was the man going to exchange his bonds ? " 
 
 " Going to ! He did it by return mail. All he 
 was worrying about was whether the company had 
 not made a mistake and would rescind the offer." 
 
 Morgan was interested. 
 
 " Many like that ? " he asked. 
 
 " Many. Scores of them. This community is so 
 
 calmly trustful and optimistic that it's a positive 
 
 128
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 fault. They will have to answer for it on the Judg- 
 ment Day. They believe whatever you tell 'em." 
 
 Miss Torrey sighed. 
 
 " That's what I've always said. No judgment, 
 you know. Flighty. Poor people. What will be- 
 come of them ? And the worst of it is," she said, 
 lowering her voice to a confidential whisper, " they 
 haven't the money to lose. No, indeed. So trust- 
 ful. Just as brother James says, it's a positive fault. 
 But I'd hate to think they would have to answer for 
 it on the Judgment Day. You didn't really mean 
 that, did you, James ? No, I think that was just your 
 joke." 
 
 But whether or not their trustfulness was a fault 
 answerable on the day when the last trumpet is 
 blown, Morgan felt sure, from his short observation 
 and the stories he heard, that it was just the sort of 
 community to bring joy to the heart of any set of 
 men bent on speculation. Whether the gentlemen 
 up North who had joined with Mr. Rupert in the 
 exploitation of the timber were the sort of men who 
 were desirous of mulcting the people who had pur- 
 chased bonds or not, he did not know, but he felt as- 
 sured of the fact that if they were, there was nothing 
 
 in the world to prevent them from succeeding. 
 
 129
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 The community of Prince Charles had grown up 
 under unusual conditions. Lying on a piece of level 
 ground between Chesapeake Bay on the one side 
 and the cypress swamp on the other, it was cut off 
 from natural communication with the rest of the 
 world. The people in the town did not hear of the 
 battle of Lexington until nearly seventeen-seventy- 
 seven. During the colonial days, it was a thriving, 
 prosperous place, but their only news came when 
 the schooner from Baltimore stopped there every 
 second month bringing provisions and taking away 
 flour and corn-meal from the mill, and beeves and 
 hams and bacons from the farmers. 
 
 Nearly a hundred years before the battle of 
 Lexington, during the declining days of the reign of 
 King James the Second, when the advent of William 
 and Mary seemed inevitable, a certain band of 
 Royalists, who, as young men, had supported the 
 cause of Charles the Martyr (as they called him) and 
 saw in James the end of the house of Stuart, decided 
 that they were too old to longer fight for the lost 
 cause, and that all they wished was to end their days 
 in peace and tranquillity far away from the strife that 
 had occupied them all their lives. So they prevailed 
 
 on the second James, in return for their years of 
 
 130
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 loyalty, to mark on the map of Virginia a strip of 
 land fifteen miles wide extending from the Chesapeake 
 Bay to the Pacific Ocean, which, with fine generosity, 
 he granted to them in perpetuity. 
 
 They were able to use, however, only about fifty 
 square miles, which was the land embraced between 
 the bay and the swamp and the high hills to the 
 north. This kept them safe from the Indians and out 
 of touch with the other colonists, and they grew up 
 after their own fashion. They married the daughters 
 of their neighbors and in the course of a hundred 
 years called every second person they met on the 
 road cousin. They knew the intimate affairs of 
 every one else and loaned money on the security of a 
 man's word. They were never poor, and the accu- 
 mulation of money never seemed important enough 
 to them to be worth bargaining with a neighbor for. 
 
 When the Civil War closed, they were still almost 
 prosperous, and twenty of the prominent men, then 
 young, in order to conserve their resources and en- 
 courage thrift among the farmers, had established a 
 purely philanthropic savings bank. It was open one 
 day a week, and the directors took their turns at 
 being tellers on that day. No money was made at 
 all in this venture, nor intended to be. They paid
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 four per cent, interest on savings, and loaned money 
 out in mortgages on places where it would do most 
 good. 
 
 The bank of which Mr. Rupert was cashier was 
 the continuance of this same institution. The twenty 
 men were now old men. Vacancies by death had 
 been filled by their electing their own contemporaries, 
 as they hesitated to take a younger man into the 
 organization which had so many traditions of their 
 own youth. But they were unable to take their 
 turns and transact now the great volume of business 
 at the bank, which continued every day in the week. 
 They therefore had made cashier this young man 
 who, appearing one summer from New England, had 
 made a wonderful impression on every one by his 
 pleasing manners and evident knowledge of the 
 world. He was considered a great catch, and old 
 Mr. Dercum, who at last succeeded in getting his 
 daughter to marry him, was widely congratulated on 
 his good fortune. This was another instance of the 
 trustfulness of every one, for the bank was now run to 
 suit the pleasure of Joseph Rupert, who was the idol 
 of all the bank directors. And when, furthermore, 
 he had come forward with his bond issue, they had 
 
 invested in it what little money he would permit 
 
 132
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 them to and were anxious for more. But he was 
 firm about wishing the bonds to be sold to the 
 farmers, for very definite reasons of his own. 
 
 Part of this is history and part of it is gossip. 
 The only way Morgan had any chance of knowing 
 it was, of course, through the conversation of the 
 people about him, who would rather talk Prince 
 Charles and its history, past, present and future, 
 than anything else they knew of. What he wished 
 to know, however, that they did not tell him, was 
 the nature of the business of the gentleman who 
 came to see Mr. Rupert on Saturday night. His 
 little investigation into the topography of the swamp 
 and his discovery that the water apparently could be 
 drained had given him a hand in the game, and he was 
 curious to know what was going on. However, 
 when he arrived at the bank on Monday morning, 
 Mr. Peters informed him that the man had not come 
 at all, but had telephoned that he would come in a 
 day or two. 
 
 He came that very night. Morgan saw him get 
 off the mail stage a small man wearing an over- 
 whelmingly large derby hat. No one seemed to be 
 on hand to meet him, so he stepped into the post- 
 office out of the wind to wait. Morgan himself 
 
 133
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 waited in the post-office until the mail for the bank 
 had been sorted out of the bag that the stage 
 brought. This was handed over to him, and he 
 went out, leaving the newcomer still standing in 
 front of the writing desk, reading a poster of the 
 recruiting service urging young men to join the 
 navy. Ordinarily, Morgan went right to Mr. Rupert's 
 house with the mail, but to-night there was a letter 
 for Mr. Peters, and he stepped over to the bank to 
 leave it so that the little gentleman would be sure to 
 see it in the morning. It seemed to be the adver- 
 tisement of a new cold cure, which would be a great 
 delight to him. The young man also discovered 
 one he had overlooked, a letter to himself from 
 Madeleine. As Mr. Rupert did not examine the mail 
 until after dinner, it was not necessary to hurry with 
 it, so he sat down at his little desk in the corner of 
 the banking room next to Mr. Rupert's office and 
 opened his letter. So interested was he in it that 
 he did not discover until he had finished it that Mr. 
 Rupert, in company with the stranger, had entered 
 the bank and was in his office. 
 
 He perceived that it was time for him to leave. 
 He turned down the light and blew it out, but in 
 endeavoring to gather up the bundle of letters, his
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 hand struck against them in the semi-darkness and 
 knocked them all off the desk on the floor. Had it 
 not been for that, he would have been able to leave 
 the bank before the two men began to talk. As it 
 was, he had to get down on his hands and knees 
 and in the little light that came through the transom 
 of Mr. Rupert's office, collect the mail. While he 
 was down on the floor he heard Mr. Rupert say : 
 
 " I had your care-free letter. In your usually 
 lucid manner you leave me in doubt as to whether 
 you were simply writing me a letter to assure me of 
 your good health, or whether you were really discuss- 
 ing some business." 
 
 " You will understand," answered the little man, 
 "that in transactions of this nature, it does not do 
 to put too much down on the paper. I simply 
 hinted, for your information, at the turn affairs had 
 taken." 
 
 " Will you be so good then, while you are here, as 
 to translate your letter? In fact, I suggest that in 
 the future you bring them instead of sending them, 
 so I shall know what you are endeavoring to say." 
 
 The man appeared to be unruffled. 
 
 " Well," he said easily, " I will tell you." 
 
 " If you please." 
 
 135
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 Morgan had now collected the letters, but he 
 realized that it was too late to go. Mr. Rupert had 
 not seen the light in the corner of the banking- 
 room, or he would have been in immediately to 
 request his assistant's absence. If Morgan left now, 
 the cashier would hear him and there would be an 
 embarrassing scene, for the young man had heard a 
 little more than he should. So he sat still at his desk 
 with the pile of letters on his knees. The new- 
 comer said : 
 
 "As you know, we brought a lumberman down 
 here in August. We went all over the place in a 
 boat and scaled the timber. At the same time we 
 took soundings. As you remember, we were three 
 days at it. This old fellow had been cutting cypress 
 in the swamps in North Carolina. It was his idea to 
 make us an offer of a royalty on the timber he cut 
 and take the whole operation on his own responsi- 
 bility. He seemed rather disappointed when he 
 saw the place, lying so low down below the banks 
 that it would be impossible to drain it and very diffi- 
 cult to get the logs up to the level ground. And, 
 after he figured the thing out pro and con, he said 
 he wouldn't undertake the thing under any cir- 
 cumstances." 
 
 136
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 " That much I gathered from your letter." 
 
 " Well, if he can't cut the timber with a profit, 
 how can we ? " 
 
 " How do you know he can't? I suppose because 
 he said so. That would naturally make it true." 
 
 " I saw his figures," returned the other, on whom 
 Mr. Rupert's sarcasm seemed to have no effect. 
 " Saw his figures for constructing the water-tight 
 dams, pumping, cutting, logging and transporting 
 to a market. We have had every opportunity for 
 checking these up. I have brought them to you for 
 your consideration." 
 
 For five or ten minutes they discussed a multiplic- 
 ity of figures which, since he could not see the 
 papers they were referring to, had no meaning what- 
 ever to Morgan, still sitting at the desk, afraid to 
 move for fear of making a noise. 
 
 " In other words," exclaimed the visitor, at length, 
 " we might just as well have sold bonds on this cow- 
 pasture out here." 
 
 "Or Chesapeake Bay, or the blue sky. What 
 difference does it make ? " 
 
 "We've got to make good," observed the other. 
 " You can't cut cypress off a cow-pasture or Chesa- 
 peake Bay." 
 
 137
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 " Now, Mr. Twining, listen to me," said Rupert, 
 in the tone of some one addressing a child. " You 
 and Mr. Murchison and I each put five thousand 
 dollars in this deal, making fifteen thousand dollars 
 in all, with which we bought the land. We had the 
 extreme good fortune to sell bonds on it for forty 
 thousand dollars, netting us a profit of twenty-five 
 thousand dollars." 
 
 " I am aware of that." 
 
 " Now when I discovered from your lumberman 
 in August that there was a doubt as to the value of 
 this timber, I suggested the idea of exchanging the 
 second-mortgage bonds for the first-mortgage bonds, 
 new lamps for old, just like Aladdin," he said, 
 lightly. " Now that will accomplish this : When we 
 have got back all these beautiful first bonds secured 
 by the real estate in exchange for the second bonds 
 secured by nothing, we have no indebtedness and our 
 profit is clear." 
 
 " Yes, but you know you have to live in this com- 
 munity, after you have done that," said the other. 
 
 " I am coming to that," went on the cashier. 
 " Six months from now the holders of these second- 
 mortgage bonds, in their infinite wisdom, will begin 
 to see that they have invested unadvisedly. In a 
 
 138
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 year, when they discover, as they will discover (you 
 can't conceal anything from these adroit people) that 
 no work is being done, we can, by a little close work, 
 buy them all in at half price. I've seen it done be- 
 fore." 
 
 " Yes," cried the little man, beginning to be inter- 
 ested, " go on." 
 
 "This will take twenty thousand dollars of the 
 twenty-five we have made, giving us five thousand 
 dollars still clear. And in addition to that we have 
 the land, which hasn't cost us a penny." 
 
 " I follow you so far." 
 
 " Well, your lumberman himself offered me 
 twenty-five thousand dollars for the land. We 
 wjll accept that offer if we don't get a better in the 
 meanwhile, and that will make a clear profit of 
 thirty thousand dollars ten thousand apiece. And 
 the use of the forty thousand dollars will make up 
 for the interest we will have paid on the bonds." 
 
 There was a scraping of chair legs as the little 
 man stood up. 
 
 " Shake hands," he said. 
 
 There was no indication that Rupert availed him- 
 self of this offer. 
 
 " This will not be a tremendous fortune in any
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 sense of the word," he went on evenly, "but in this 
 community, a man with ten thousand dollars and 
 a little cerebral development, which the people here," 
 he observed in his bland contempt for the rest of the 
 world, "do not possess, could be a rich man in a 
 few years. Is there anything else we want to talk 
 about?" 
 
 " I think not." 
 
 "Then I will put out the light, if you will step 
 out into the lobby so as not to be lost in outer 
 darkness." 
 
 He extinguished the light, opened the front door, 
 and slammed it hard. The building echoed from 
 the concussion and was silent again. 
 
 Morgan picked up his bundle of mail. 
 
 140
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 MADELEINE'S letter read in part as fol- 
 lows : 
 
 " MORGAN, MY BOY : 
 
 " How fares my soldier of fortune ? Our old 
 friend Ben Franklin, in his historic invasion of Phila- 
 delphia with an extra suit of clothes in one pocket 
 and a dozen rolls in the other, can't be spoken of in 
 the same breath with you and your entry into this 
 Prince Charles place. I suppose said town of P. C. 
 is such a primeval town that the appearance of a 
 gentleman attired merely in trousers and shirt 
 passed without comment, this costume in the morn- 
 ing being considered perfectly au fait. I regret 
 sometimes that I encouraged you to undertake this 
 try-out in such a barbarous place. Have your man- 
 ners disappeared entirely ? Do you eat with your 
 knife solely ? I know you won't know the use of 
 studs and buttons when you come back. The men 
 are wearing a new kind of collar now. Very 
 degage. Vurry. 
 
 " This is the very latest gossip. It is rumored on 
 splendid authority that Morgan Holt, who will spend 
 the winter in the Tyrol, is not the rightful heir of the 
 Holt millions, and for that reason will remain in 
 seclusion instead of entering society, as would be 
 natural during the first year he had come into his 
 own. I have had many sweet letters of condolence 
 
 141
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 from dear friends touching on this matter. Aren't 
 we glad this is not true ? It is horrible to be poor. 
 
 * * * * * * 
 
 " Good-bye, dear boy. Don't marry this other 
 woman until you have given me a fair chance. 
 " Yours always, 
 
 " MADELEINE." 
 
 " I wonder," observed Morgan to himself, " what 
 the new kind of collar is like. Exciting things cer- 
 tainly do happen in New York." 
 
 He filed the letter away in his bureau drawer to- 
 gether with the very small wardrobe he had pur- 
 chased. The suit Mr. Rupert had given him was 
 also filed away, and for general use he wore a ten 
 dollar corduroy suit which was the joy of his heart. 
 
 On the morning following the conversation with 
 Mr. Rupert and his visitor from the North, Morgan 
 got up an hour earlier than usual so that he might 
 walk over to Alexander Berry's to see how he was 
 getting on. It was a bright, cold autumn morning. 
 The sharp wind made him tingle all over. He 
 slammed the iron gate, which clanged musically in 
 the frosty air, and struck out down the street with 
 long, brisk strides. Happiness is a thing which ebbs 
 
 and flows so easily in one's life that it took but a 
 
 142
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 patcH of sunshine and a bluster of cold air to make 
 beautiful and serene the same world that a day or so 
 before had been shrouded in the gloom of Erebus. 
 
 As he approached the post-office the mail-stage 
 stood at the rail before it, ready to start on its 
 morning trip to the station. Behind him came the 
 clup, clup of a horse's hoofs on the hard macadam. 
 He turned, and there was Mrs. Rupert driving the 
 little man with the large derby hat who had come to 
 visit Mr. Rupert the night before. She called to him 
 and he turned back to greet her. She introduced 
 the little man, who was just getting out of the break 
 cart. The man looked at him hard. 
 
 " Saw you in the post-office last night," he said. 
 " Great resemblance to a millionaire fellow I saw at 
 a tennis tournament in New York. First name same 
 as your last name, too, by the way." 
 
 " Who was that ? " asked Morgan politely. 
 
 " Morgan Holt," returned the other smiling. " Cer- 
 tainly you've heard of him." 
 
 " Very, very rich ? " the young man asked. 
 
 " No, twenty or thirty millions. Only just com- 
 fortably fixed for New York purposes. I half be- 
 lieve you're the very man," he said, looking at his 
 companion. 
 
 143
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 That individual smiled. 
 
 " I am. You've guessed right. Let's carry out 
 the illusion by your lending me, say, a hundred dol- 
 lars, payable in New York." 
 
 This was the sort of humor the visitor could ap- 
 preciate. He laughed loudly. 
 
 "No," he returned heartily, "I see my mistake 
 now. You don't even look like Morgan Holt." 
 
 "Your stage is about to start," said Mrs. Rupert. 
 
 The man shook hands with them both, bundled 
 himself up in the many blankets on the back seat of 
 the stage, and flourishing his large hat in adieu, was 
 driven leisurely off, the reins wrapped around the 
 whip while the stage driver lighted his corn-cob pipe 
 in anticipation of a long journey. 
 
 " I am always asking you," said Mrs. Rupert, 
 "where you are going." 
 
 "And I am always saying to Alexander Berry's." 
 
 She drew back the blankets that covered the seat 
 beside her. 
 
 " How about asking me to go with you ? " 
 
 " Fine ! Will you go with me ? " 
 
 " I will indeed." 
 
 " Very good. Shall we ride or walk ? " 
 
 "Oh, let's ride." 
 
 144
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 He smiled and stepped up into the cart beside her. 
 
 "You haven't had breakfast," he said accusingly. 
 
 She laughed. 
 
 " Oh, come now, no such airs of superiority. I 
 had breakfast at quarter of seven." 
 
 " Which beats me by fifteen minutes. And to 
 further shame you, I might say I breakfast every 
 morning at that time." 
 
 " But Mr. Rupert " 
 
 " Oh," she said smiling, " quarter to nine, or 
 thereabouts. He sits up until all hours of the night, 
 I think. Isn't this a wonderful morning? " she broke 
 off abruptly. 
 
 " Indeed it is. It is seldom that I have an oppor- 
 tunity to see it at this time." 
 
 She glanced at him quickly. 
 
 " What time do you have to be at the bank ? " she 
 asked, presently, with a fixed purpose. 
 
 " About quarter past eight" 
 
 " And what time is it now ? " 
 
 He took out his watch with the monogram " M. 
 H." on it. 
 
 " It is seven-thirty, now." 
 
 She did not hear him. 
 
 " What a beautiful watch. May I see it ? " 
 
 145
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 He passed it to her. She looked at the mono- 
 gram. 
 
 " The strange thing about monograms," she ob- 
 served idly, as she handed it back, " is that either 
 letter can come first." 
 
 " Yes," he said, " that is the strange thing about 
 them." 
 
 They drove on in silence for a while. 
 
 " Of course," she began presently, " all women have 
 an insatiable curiosity." 
 
 " Which isn't always insatiable." 
 
 " What do you mean ? " she asked. 
 
 "They have a genius for finding out." 
 
 " That was just what I was coming to." 
 
 He smiled, but said nothing. She looked at him 
 keenly and began to laugh. 
 
 "The name Henry, do you like it?" she de- 
 manded. 
 
 " Not at all. But," he added with entirely unex- 
 pected frankness, " it was the best I could do on the 
 spur of the moment." 
 
 She caught her breath. Then she laughed again. 
 
 " How much time did you have ? " she asked. 
 
 " A second or two. Your husband saw the initials 
 
 and then asked me my name." 
 
 146
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 " And you did not want to tell him it was " 
 
 She paused. 
 
 " Go on," he said calmly. 
 
 " Well, Morgan Holt." 
 
 She said it in a low tone as though she feared 
 some one might hear it, and when she said it they 
 were both surprised at the sound of it. 
 
 " Exactly," he replied in a moment. 
 
 "Why do you tell me?" 
 
 " I didn't. But you have been putting two and 
 two together all along, and when this little fellow un- 
 veiled the king pin just now, it was apparent that 
 further concealment would be an insult to your in- 
 telligence." 
 
 " Thank you," she said. 
 
 " The reason I'm here," he went on without hesita- 
 tion, " is because I want to marry a girl. This girl 
 says I am a mere idle rich person. If I earn my 
 living for a year she will marry me." 
 
 " And hence," she observed, " your presence 
 here." 
 
 " And hence my presence here." 
 
 She turned in the roadway to Alexander's place. 
 
 " I need not tell you," she said, " that this fact is 
 as safe with me as with yourself if you wish it." 
 
 147
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 " I do wish it," he replied. " Otherwise I should 
 have to make a fresh start somewhere else." 
 
 " And my scheme for Lenore," she said sighing, 
 "is all off." 
 
 " Apparently." 
 
 Alexander was coming down his porch steps. 
 She began to laugh and held out her hand to him 
 over the reins. 
 
 " Mr. Holt," she remarked, " it has been a pleasure 
 to have met you." 
 
 " Why not Morgan ? " 
 
 " Morgan, then." 
 
 148
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 CHRISTMAS EVE at Prince Charles. The snow 
 fell silently and softly in the twilight. Lights 
 from the house windows threw warm spots of color 
 on the snow-covered lawns. The palings of the 
 fences had each accumulated a little spire of snow. 
 On the door-steps were accurate white mats, per- 
 fectly level and rounded carefully at the edges ; 
 which people, emerging from their houses with 
 brooms, unappreciatively swept off. Thereupon, 
 pleased with the beginning, they would continue the 
 process briskly down the path to the sidewalk, mak- 
 ing a nice dry walk to the house, and returning, 
 with much stamping of feet, disappear within, filled 
 with the consciousness of duty well done. And al- 
 most before their doors had closed, the snow, 
 patiently falling, began to manufacture more mats, 
 very thin at first, but growing whiter and whiter 
 until there was no sign that the sweeping had been 
 done. Here and there along the street sounded a 
 
 pleasant knocking as some careful householder, with 
 
 149
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 a brush, swept off the window sill, previous to clos- 
 ing the shutters. And in the distance somewhere, 
 behind the falling flakes that dropped on your hair 
 and in your eyes, you could hear the faint muffled 
 sound, the gentle tintinabulation that betokened the 
 approach exciting event of the first sleigh. 
 
 It was a very homely scene, but it was something 
 hitherto beyond the ken of Morgan Holt. He had 
 never watched the snow in the growing dusk except 
 through the plate glass of a hurrying limousine, or 
 with his nose pressed against the window of his 
 room watching the men shoveling it off, dirty and 
 unpleasant, as fast as it fell. He had never before 
 helped the grocer's boy carry home a barrel of holly 
 through the streets, snow over his shoes, snow on 
 his coat, snow on his hat, snow on his eyebrows, and 
 the great awkward barrel whiter than if it had 
 come from the miller's. He had never realized that 
 Christmas was anything but a hollow function at 
 which he had received presents he could have had at 
 any other time of the year had he wanted them, and 
 on which his father and he had made up a list of' 
 which relatives could be sent gold pieces and which 
 had to be bought things. The day after Christmas 
 
 had always been the pleasant time for him, for then 
 
 150
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 all the work was over. He had never before known 
 that there was any pleasure in decorating the house 
 for Christmas. His father's house had been dressed 
 every year the day before by a florist and an elec- 
 trician with the help of a gang of men. The place 
 was strewn all day long with smilax and holly and 
 mistletoe and the debris therefrom, and men entered 
 with step-ladders and boards wherever you happened 
 to be, and began to take down pictures and hang 
 festoons. 
 
 But this time he was as excited as he could be. He 
 had heard Miss Torrey say that she wished holly and 
 mistletoe, and on the trip he had made to Norfolk 
 over the previous Saturday and Sunday, he had dis- 
 covered quantities of both for sale on the street and 
 had brought back a barrel filled with it on the boat. 
 This he had stored at the grocer's until the proper 
 time, so that it would be an absolute surprise to Miss 
 Torrey, who had nothing with which to decorate the 
 house except some holly wreaths (of which very few 
 came to Prince Charles) and some pine branches 
 which she had a boy cut for her in the woods. When 
 they arrived at the house Morgan left the grocer's 
 boy outside to guard the barrel, and opening the 
 front door, burst into the hall.
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 " Oh, Miss Torrey," he called to the house in 
 general. 
 
 There was a silence, and then a gentle and deco- 
 rous patter of feet on the floor above. Miss Torrey 
 descended the stair. 
 
 " Did some one call me ? Oh, Mr. Morgan, I 
 didn't recognize you in the half-light. Now I know 
 just what you are going to say. Indeed I do. And 
 I am just as sorry as I can be. But yesterday was 
 such a poor drying day. We just couldn't dry the 
 towels at all. Simply couldn't. So I gave you only 
 one. I said to James, ' I know Mr. Morgan won't 
 like it, but I simply cannot help it.' ' 
 
 The young man laughed out loud. 
 
 " Why worry about towels ? I have a present for 
 you." 
 
 " A present ! A Christmas present ? You can 
 give it to me now, but I couldn't look at it until 
 to-morrow. Not one peep. I know lots of people 
 do it, but not I. Christmas is Christmas, I say, and 
 I just wouldn't think of opening things one minute 
 before time. It takes away all the pleasure." 
 
 " But this is a Christmas-eve present." 
 
 " A Christmas-eve present ? I never heard of 
 
 such a thing. But I suppose there are such things. 
 
 152
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 Where is it? I'm so curious to see. Just like a 
 schoolgirl. I can't wait another minute." 
 
 " It's outside in a barrel." 
 
 " In a barrel ? Then it ought to be brought round 
 to the kitchen. And if the snow could be brushed 
 off. I know you'll think I'm very particular, but it 
 tracks so. James says I'm an old maid. And I say 
 that's a title that cannot be earned in a day. That's 
 my little joke." 
 
 She followed him to the door, still talking, and 
 held it open a few inches to say several last sen- 
 tences, while he and the boy lifted the barrel and 
 started round the house. When they disappeared 
 round the corner she had not even come to a semi- 
 colon. Then, finding they were indeed gone she 
 hastened with little short steps to the kitchen and 
 had innumerable papers spread all over the floor to 
 protect it from various dreaded kinds of dirt, and 
 was ready when they entered the rear door to take 
 up the thread of her discourse if it had a thread 
 just where she had left off. 
 
 She hovered around them like a tittering little 
 bird, progressing with tireless tongue from paren- 
 thesis to parenthesis with the utmost cheerfulness, 
 asking them a hundred questions which she an- 
 
 153
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 swered before they had an opportunity to open their 
 mouths ; admiring one piece of holly and then rush- 
 ing around to select another more ravishing, tears of 
 excitement in her bright eyes, her thin arms filled 
 with green leaves and scarlet berries. Morgan's 
 heart warmed within him to see the little lady so 
 happy. 
 
 It was a strange pair of people who started in 
 then to decorate the house, uncongenial to the last 
 degree, yet united by their singleness of purpose. 
 For once they were in accord. Miss Torrey ap- 
 pealed to him for his advice before placing a single 
 branch, and, while she never waited to hear what 
 that advice was, experienced all the comfort that 
 might have come from finding that he agreed with 
 her in her decision, and, although he could not per- 
 ceive any beauty in the prim and upright method 
 she had of arranging the branches, yet he conceded 
 that the exactitude of their disposition might be 
 symbolical of conscientiousness and rectitude of 
 action, which could be said to be the inner and 
 deeper meaning of Christmas. 
 
 And when Dr. Torrey came in and saw the little 
 branches of holly sitting up erectly at the mathemat- 
 ical center of each picture, and the little dabs of 
 
 1 54
 
 FOR ONCE THEY WERE IN ACCORD
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 alternate holly and mistletoe, carefully selected for 
 size, ranged in a row on the mantelpiece, as though 
 they had just been put there so as to be convenient 
 when needed, and the vases and water pitcher and 
 odd bits of china filled with stiff holly and mistletoe 
 bouquets, he laughed ; but he was pleased neverthe- 
 less. 
 
 " Old Alexander Berry," he said as he sat down to 
 the dinner table, " is in a bad way again." Every 
 one lately had begun to speak of him as " Old 
 Alexander Berry." 
 
 " What are you going to do about him ? " asked 
 Morgan. 
 
 " Every time I see him I am going to advise him 
 to go out to Arizona and live with his brother, but I 
 can't pick him up bodily and send him there by 
 freight. Until he does go, there is no help for him. 
 Tuberculosis thrives in this locality." 
 
 " But how about his farm ? " 
 
 " He has no equity on his farm. The mortgage 
 and accrued taxes have accumulated so, and the land 
 has depreciated to such an extent that there is 
 hardly enough there to satisfy the indebtedness. 
 But what are you going to do with a man like 
 Berry ? He won't let go of the farm unless he gets 
 
 155
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 a hundred and fifty dollars out of it. While there 
 are lots of people who might join together to give 
 him enough money to go west on, nobody is going 
 to let go of a hundred and fifty dollars for that 
 incumbered real estate." 
 
 "Why doesn't the holder of the mortgage fore- 
 close ? That would force him to go." 
 
 " It would break the old man's heart. But stay- 
 ing here is plain suicide. I should not be surprised 
 if he did not live to see the New Year." 
 
 " Then he isn't strong enough to go now any- 
 way ? " 
 
 " Excitement would buoy him up. He would 
 reach his brother's feeling like a two year old, and in 
 the course of a month he would forget that he had 
 ever been sick." 
 
 Morgan could not get Alexander out of his mind 
 for the rest of the evening. The idea that any one 
 in the world could die when something might be 
 done to help was incomprehensible to him. Dr. 
 Torrey had said that people would undoubtedly have 
 subscribed sufficient money to send the sick man 
 west, but would not subscribe to buy the farm. One 
 they regarded as charity, and the other was busi- 
 ness. In the one case they would be giving their 
 
 156
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 money to a good cause, in the other they would 
 simply be making a bad bargain. It made no dif- 
 ference that the result obtained was the same. Mor- 
 gan had found that same complexity of ideas every- 
 where since he had come closer in touch with the 
 world. He found people offsetting the big, the 
 human motives of life, which are necessarily ideal, 
 with a host of practical virtues, such as economy, 
 thrift and common sense. The Biblical obligation 
 of the man with two coats to give his neighbor one 
 was held to be binding, perhaps, on the man with 
 ten coats. It had been found that in many cases it 
 was either the man's own fault he had no coat, or 
 else he did not take care of the coat given him after 
 he had it. 
 
 Morgan was not looking on the question as a 
 matter of conscience, or of morals, or of duty, but as 
 a condition of mind. The person having the two 
 coats and seeing the other fellow with none might be 
 very desirous of giving him one of them. But after 
 sober second thought he would come to the con- 
 clusion that perhaps it would be encouraging idle- 
 ness, and thus would persuade himself against doing 
 the thing he wanted to do most. 
 
 He had seen that same quality of mind and won- 
 157
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 dered at it in the case of an old farmer, one of the 
 depositors in the bank. The man had owned a very 
 fine farm about five miles out of Prince Charles 
 which he had bought when a young man for five 
 hundred dollars. By energy and good judgment 
 and hard work he had increased the fertility of the 
 ground until it produced the best crops the country 
 round. When the new turnpike was run directly 
 by his farm, a rich woman, a Mrs. Berry Brown, 
 of New York, offered ten thousand dollars for it. 
 His first thought then must have been that, having 
 spent his whole manhood on that farm, it would be 
 impossible for him to live anywhere else. But the 
 idea of at last giving up hard work and of having 
 such a large sum of money, and his thrifty eagerness 
 to avail himself of the " good offer," were too much 
 for him, and he sold the farm. He built a house in 
 Prince Charles, and could be seen daily walking 
 about, idle and disconsolate. When he had died a 
 few weeks before, it was evident that it was for 
 nothing else but regret and loneliness. Yet every 
 one had applauded his good fortune. 
 
 Morgan went over these things in his mind be- 
 cause he wished to be certain that what he was 
 
 about to do was right. His own mind, whether 
 
 158
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 from his secluded life, or naturally, was surprisingly 
 direct, like a child's. The Quixotic appearance of a 
 thing made no difference to him if he felt it was 
 right. He would not have made this strange com- 
 pact to earn his living for a year, if he had not seen 
 with positive clearness that it was a very probable 
 solution of his problem. He thought over the ques- 
 tion during the course of a long walk in the snow, 
 and when he returned he had decided that his ideas 
 about things were best. 
 
 In the morning, therefore, he counted over what 
 was left of the money he had brought with him, and 
 setting out immediately after breakfast, bought Alex- 
 ander Berry's farm for a hundred and fifty dollars. 
 
 159
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 ON the twenty-seventh day of December, after 
 the deed had been signed and recorded, and a 
 new mortgage, equal in amount to the old mortgage 
 and the accrued interest, had been written, old 
 Alexander, very weak and thin, but with bright eyes 
 and little red spots in his cheeks, was bundled, to- 
 gether with his old-fashioned round top trunk, in 
 the Ruperts' automobile and whisked over to the 
 railroad station, where he bade farewell forever, and 
 with no regret at the time, to Prince Charles. 
 
 That morning Mr. Rupert summoned Morgan into 
 his private office. 
 
 " Morgan," he said genially, " I find that you are 
 the most perfect example of fairy godmother, passing 
 lightly through life distributing wealth and happiness 
 on both sides of you. You have just sent poor, dear 
 Alexander Berry away out west, where, for the rest 
 of his life, he won't have a care in the world, except 
 to get up at three in the morning and help his brother 
 brand cows until eight at night. And how the poor 
 
 overworked man will thrive on it ! " 
 
 160
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 "Yes, I think it will be better for him," returned 
 Morgan, with a faint smile. 
 
 " But what I want to know is," pursued the other, 
 " have you any more money ? Because if you have, 
 my house needs painting, and I need a new macadam 
 driveway to the stable. There are two excellent 
 chances for you to give it away." 
 
 "I'm afraid your application is too late," returned 
 the young man, laughing. " Funds are all ex- 
 hausted. Only five dollars and seventy-five cents 
 left now." 
 
 The other held out his hand. 
 
 " Give it to me before you give it to some one else. 
 
 " Let me see," pursued Mr. Rupert, " old Alex- 
 ander had fifty acres, mostly inaccessible woodland 
 and swamp land. He said, at one time, it was worth 
 a hundred dollars an acre, but after a while he agreed 
 with the rest of the community that it was worth 
 only about forty. What are you going to do with 
 all this estate ? " 
 
 " I don't know," returned Morgan, frankly. 
 
 " Well, remember," said Mr. Rupert, " if you ever 
 want to give away more money, I'm always here." 
 
 The young man promised to remember, and went 
 
 away very much amused at his employer's conde- 
 
 161
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 scension. Mr. Rupert would probably not have 
 treated him so pleasantly had he known that Mor- 
 gan had, without intending to do so, been hamper- 
 ing very considerably the cashier's bond exchanging 
 scheme. John Anderson had taken the former's ad- 
 vice on the subject at its face value, and flatly re- 
 fused to part with the bond he had originally bought ; 
 and in justifying himself for this course to others 
 had mentioned Morgan's name, as a person of great 
 business sagacity, explaining that the banker's as- 
 sistant thought the second mortgage was a bad in- 
 vestment. The other accepted Anderson's apprais- 
 ment of Morgan without question. It was evident 
 that he must be a person of unusual qualities, and 
 with more resources than simply his position at the 
 bank. His open-handed generosity proved that. 
 And his quiet manner stimulated their imagination 
 as to his mental qualities, and made it probable that 
 he might be concealing his real importance. He, 
 therefore, was astonished frequently to find his ad- 
 vice asked on the question of the bonds, sometimes 
 by total strangers. In replying to them he never 
 advised them to adopt any course. He simply 
 stated his view of the situation and explained the 
 
 reasons he had for holding that view. But the 
 
 162
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 noticeable thing about it was, that none of the men 
 to whom he talked exchanged their bonds. 
 
 Morgan was rather entertained at the idea that 
 he should suddenly have established a reputation 
 as a sage. He did nothing at all to encourage it, 
 because it was a responsible position, which he did 
 not feel competent to fill. However, the reputation 
 grew in spite of him. If he explained, as he usu- 
 ally did, that what advice he gave was simply 
 his own opinion (or his own guess, to be exact), 
 and was worth only that much, it only heightened 
 its value to the person who received it. His trip 
 to Norfolk was greatly talked of and speculated 
 upon. It became a fixed belief that he was intend- 
 ing to start some enterprise in Prince Charles ; prob- 
 ably, as he had hinted lightly the first day he came 
 to the town, to take a hand in the cypress transaction. 
 
 Morgan's trip to Norfolk had been taken after due 
 consideration as the only way to settle the problems 
 that puzzled him problems arising from his acci- 
 dental discovery of the inside workings of the cy- 
 press company, and from his conviction (which he 
 had made a certainty) that the swamp could be 
 drained. In his consideration of the subject, the 
 
 name came to him of an old and successful lumber- 
 
 163
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 ing firm of Norfolk, into whose offices he and his 
 father had gone once while on their trip South. He 
 wrote them a letter, saying that, if they were inter- 
 ested in cypress, there was a certain situation he 
 would like to talk over with thenio An answer came 
 by return mail asking him to come down whenever 
 he could. 
 
 Morgan, following the receipt of this letter, had 
 borrowed from the local carpenter and builder his 
 long spirit-level, and a board that was very straight 
 and had a true edge. With these, on the following 
 Saturday afternoon, he had trudged off to the swamp, 
 and set them down at a certain point on the top of 
 the high ground surrounding it. He had noticed 
 this point many times before, on account of the fact 
 that, through the trees, now that the leaves had 
 fallen, you could see a corner of the eaves and part 
 of the shingle roof of Alexander Berry's house. At 
 this point then, he had set up his improvised sur- 
 veyor's level. To do this he had propped up the 
 board on its edge by stones, and wedged under it 
 with other small stones and handfuls of dirt, until 
 when he placed the spirit-level upon it the little bub- 
 ble stood precisely in the center of the glass. Thus 
 
 assured that it was exactly level, he had lain flat down 
 
 164
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 on the ground and, squinting- along it, found that it 
 sighted a point on the roof of the house, just above 
 the eaves, where a shingle had fallen off, leaving a 
 light spot on its gray surface. Then looking along 
 the board from the other end, he had sighted a point 
 on the dead limb of a tree in the swamp, which tree, 
 when he had located it, had turned out to be 
 standing in water. Thereupon, in spite of the fact 
 that it was December, he had stripped to his skin, 
 plunged in, with a steel tape in his teeth, and scal- 
 ing the tree, found that the water was just eighteen 
 feet below the point on the dead limb. 
 
 The next step, after donning his clothes and gath- 
 ering up his tools, had been to measure the distance 
 from the roof of Alexander's house to the ground, set 
 his homely level at that point on the ground, and 
 sight a point on one of the pound-net poles that 
 could be seen in the distance on the shore. When 
 he calculated this, he had discovered that the total 
 distance from high-water level to the point on the 
 crest of the high ground surrounding the swamp was 
 about thirty-six feet. These two results proved that 
 his calculations with the aneroid barometer had been 
 generally correct, and that the water in the swamp 
 
 was eighteen feet above sea-level. 
 
 165
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 He had found the lumbering firm in Norfolk un- 
 usually interested in his information. None of them 
 had remembered his former visit to the office, appar- 
 ently. They had, of course, heard of the cypress at 
 Prince Charles and the bond issue. Morgan had 
 suggested that as Mr. Rupert's company did not 
 know of the difference in levels and were therefore 
 delaying their cutting of the cypress, the Norfolk 
 concern should endeavor to get control of the land. 
 
 Morgan's facts had held their attention, and they 
 had agreed that some one would have to go up 
 quietly and look into the question. They had all 
 expressed a doubt, however, as to the possibility of 
 draining the swamp by cutting a channel through 
 rocky ground to the bay, which was more than a 
 mile distant. This had been a cruel damper to Mor- 
 gan's enthusiasm, but he had urged them to send 
 some one up anyway, which they had promised 
 to do. 
 
 This man, the firm wrote Morgan, would arrive in 
 Prince Charles the second week in January. As 
 they did not wish it to be spread about that they 
 were interfering in Rupert's deal, they asked him 
 not to be surprised if their representative announced 
 
 that he had come to sell a patent corn-husker. About 
 
 166
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 ten days before this time Morgan came upon his 
 great idea ! 
 
 He remembered the occasion for a long while 
 afterward because of the extremely hurt and grieved 
 note he received from Miss Torrey as a result of it. 
 He could not explain to the good lady what a great 
 benefit the whole thing might be to every one, so he 
 was properly penitent, and promised never to do it 
 again. 
 
 It happened in this way. He was drawing water 
 for a bath one evening, and had laid his bath towel 
 over the edge of the tub. When he turned off the 
 water he did not notice that it touched the end of 
 the towel, but went on stropping his razor and pro- 
 ceeded leisurely shaving. At the end of this rather 
 protracted operation, he was surprised to find a great 
 puddle of water on the floor. The towel had become 
 thoroughly saturated from end to end, and had be- 
 gun to drip water out on the floor ; and after the 
 accidental syphon thus formed had begun to work 
 freely, the water ran out on the floor 'in a stream. 
 Morgan did not take the towel from its position. 
 Not at all. He stood petrified, gazing at it with the 
 light of the new idea in his eyes. Syphon ! That 
 
 was the word. 
 
 167
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 The water ran down on the floor more freely. It 
 soaked through the boards to the plaster below, and 
 soaking through the plaster began to drip on the 
 stove in the kitchen. And poor Miss Torrey, hear- 
 ing these hissing sounds at regular ^intervals, sup- 
 posed, of course, the hot water boiler was bursting, 
 and was afraid to go in the room. After fruitless 
 effort to investigate the situation through the key- 
 hole, she borrowed a step-ladder from the next door 
 neighbor, and, with some one to steady it on each 
 side, climbed timidly but resolutely to the top of it, 
 and peered through the kitchen window. One look 
 was enough. It seemed as though she never would 
 get to the bottom of that ladder. Never had the 
 good little lady ascended those stairs so rapidly. 
 Never had she pounded so loudly on the bath-room 
 door. And then Morgan guiltily removed the towel 
 and began to mop up the water. 
 
 It was not long after that he had perfected the 
 whole scheme. 
 
 " The idea," he said to the man from Norfolk 
 (named Perkins) when he arrived, " is to build a huge 
 syphon from the swamp to the bay. Let me draw it." 
 He took a piece of paper. " Here is the swamp. 
 
 The bay here. The crest of the high ground here." 
 
 168
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 When he had finished his rough drawing he laid 
 it before the other. 
 
 " Looks good enough to fool me," said the man, 
 after a few moments of inspection. " Go ahead with 
 your spiel." 
 
 " At the high point of the syphon," went on Mor- 
 gan, "you have a pump. Between the pump and 
 the bay, and below the level of the water in the 
 swamp, is a valve. To start the syphon you close 
 the valve, making an air-tight section of pipe all the 
 way to the end of the pipe which is submerged in the 
 swamp. You then start the pump and pump out all 
 the air from the pipe. That sucks the water up from 
 the swamp and fills the pipe down to the level of the 
 valve. Your syphon is then ready to operate. You 
 open the valve and the water continues to run out 
 indefinitely." 
 
 The man looked at him admiringly. 
 
 " Well, what do you think of it ? " demanded Mor- 
 gan, at length. 
 
 " It listens glorious to me," asseverated Mr. Per- 
 kins, who spoke a sort of hybrid English. " I think 
 our firm will take a hand in this proposition." 
 
 169
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 THE lumbering company did decide to take a 
 hand in the cypress undertaking. They wanted 
 cypress, and they sent Perkins back again with in- 
 structions to get control of the Prince Charles swamp 
 if it took all winter. So Perkins came back with a 
 model of his impossible corn-husker, and it is a com- 
 pliment to his ability as a persuasive talker that in 
 fits of absent-mindedness he several times almost 
 made sales of the machine before he collected him- 
 self. Morgan wondered how he was ever going to 
 get control of the swamp. But he did it very handily. 
 First he discovered that, in order to sell the bonds 
 to the farmers, Mr. Rupert had considered it ad- 
 visable to put in a clause agreeing to redeem the 
 bonds (which were to run for five years) at the end 
 of three years if the holder so desired. This was 
 unusual, but, in a farming community where money 
 was apt to be scarce at almost any time, five years 
 had seemed like a long while to tie up capital, and 
 this opportunity to get it back sooner, if it might be 
 
 necessary, had been very popular. This had been 
 
 170
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 part and parcel of Rupert's scheme to sell the entire 
 issue to the farmers who were easier to manage. 
 The three years ran out in May. 
 
 That was all that was necessary for Perkins. He 
 hired a spring wagon and a horse, and putting his 
 corn-husker in the wagon, went on a long tour of the 
 countryside, talking up his machine to all the farmers 
 and finding out incidentally whether they owned any 
 bonds and how many. They also told him who else 
 owned bonds. At the end of the week he had 
 located three-quarters of the bond issue. He was 
 certain that the other quarter was owned in larger 
 blocks by the more prosperous men, particularly the 
 bank directors in Prince Charles. He found that, 
 while a great many of the farmers were considering 
 the question of exchanging their bonds, only a few 
 of them had actually done so. 
 
 This accomplished, Perkins wrote to his firm for 
 assistance and planned a great coup for the following 
 Friday night. He arranged a monster mass-meeting 
 for all the farmers and went about among them, 
 frankly discarding his corn-husker, urging them to 
 attend. It was held in Mrs. Berry Brown's great 
 barn, Mrs. Brown (who was the only person in that 
 
 part of the country to own a " show farm ") being 
 
 171
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 very anxious to please the farmers. Little Perkins 
 stood up, with bright shining eyes and bright shining 
 bald head, in an appallingly obtrusive check suit, 
 and made a most remarkable speech. 
 
 "Friends, Romans, countrymen," he said, with 
 taking flippancy. " My first acquaintance with you 
 was in rolling out a spiel about my corn-husker. 
 Now I'm wise to the fact that that corn-husker won't 
 husk corn ; because I've tried it I just brought that 
 along to help us get acquainted. The thing I want 
 is your Prince Charles Cypress Company bonds." 
 
 The assembly, who had individually been supplied 
 with hot frankfurters, sandwiches and coffee, stopped 
 eating in astonishment. 
 
 "And I'm going to get 'em. How do I know? 
 Because I'm wise to the fact that all you old sports 
 here know this one thing, if you don't know any- 
 thing else, and that is that the Prince Charles Cypress 
 Company may be a very fine company, but they 
 don't cut cypress" 
 
 He looked triumphantly about him. There was a 
 silence. Then some one Perkins had previously 
 subsidized for the purpose began to applaud, and in 
 three seconds the place was in an uproar. 
 
 " Now, I don't want to pull off any personal allu- 
 
 172
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 sions," went on the speaker, " but this second-mort- 
 gage bond issue looks like underhand work. The 
 good old-fashioned gold brick game." 
 
 " What's your game?" cried some one in the rear 
 of the barn. 
 
 " Now," thundered Perkins, exultantly, " now 
 we're coming to it. My game is to cut cypress. 
 And your game your game is to get it cut. The 
 whole community shrieks for it. The thing that you 
 all want more than the bonds and the income from 
 them is the boom that is going to come when the 
 cypress is cut. I want to get control of the bond 
 issue so that I can control the whole project." 
 
 " Who are you ? " shouted some one, safely hidden. 
 
 " That's the question ! Who am I ? I represent 
 the greatest lumbering firm in the United States. 
 Our proposition to you is this : We offer you a hun- 
 dred dollars apiece for the bonds, the bonds not to be 
 delivered to us but sent by you by registered mail 
 to a reputable national bank, which will send you a 
 hundred dollars we will deposit there for the purpose. 
 And if we do not start cutting cypress by July first, 
 the bank is to return your bond and you keep the 
 money" 
 
 They shouted for joy. Perkins instantly pulled 
 
 173
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 out a bundle of printed agreements, signed in 
 advance by his firm. These agreements stipulated 
 that the bonds were to be sent, with the understand- 
 ing Perkins had proposed in his speech, by a certain 
 date to a well-known national bank in Norfolk. 
 This bank was to have the privilege of collecting on 
 the bonds when they came due in April, if ordered 
 to do so by the lumbering firm, and returning money 
 instead of bonds in case of forfeit. These agree- 
 ments, properly witnessed, formed contracts. Al- 
 most every man signed an agreement. When Per- 
 kins counted them all after every one had left, he 
 found they had nearly two-thirds of the bond issue 
 enough to force Rupert to relinquish control of the 
 timber-land. 
 
 The next afternoon Mr. Rupert, who had by that 
 time heard of the transaction and of Morgan's deal- 
 ings with Perkins, called the young man into his 
 office and, in four words, discharged him. 
 
 174
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 WHEN five o'clock came, Morgan gathered to- 
 gether all the little trinkets of his which were 
 at the bank and made them into a compact bundle. 
 Mr. Peters paused in the midst of laving his hands. 
 
 "Bless my soul," he said. "What are you 
 doing?" 
 
 " I'm leaving this evening." 
 
 "Leav-ing this ev-ening," repeated the other, 
 blankly. 
 
 " Mr. Rupert finds he has no further use for my 
 services." 
 
 The little man withdrew his hands from the wash- 
 bowl and held them helplessly in front of him, the 
 water dripping on the floor. He paid no attention to 
 this circumstance, which was a sure sign of agitation 
 in him. 
 
 " I don't know what to make of it," he said, be- 
 wildered. " I don't know what to make of it" 
 
 Holding the moist hands ridiculously in front of 
 him. he paced up and down, making a series of 
 
 175
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 sounds with his tongue against the roof of his 
 mouth. Then he stopped suddenly and dried the 
 hands with extraordinary energy. 
 
 " All I can say is," he .ejaculated, entirely out of 
 breath. " All I can say is that Mr. Rupert is I hope 
 I have a proper appreciation of the respect due him 
 as my employer but I must say Mr. Rupert is afoot." 
 
 Overcome by this wrenching apart of his dry, 
 clock-like little soul, Mr. Peters sat down, panting, 
 on his high stool and stared with feverish lack of 
 comprehension at the reversed letters on the glass of 
 the teller's window before him. 
 
 Morgan continued with his packing. When he 
 had finished, he went over and took the little man by 
 the hand. 
 
 " Good-bye," he said, quietly. " Thanks for your 
 sympathy." 
 
 Mr. Peters opened the drawer of his desk and took 
 out a little bound book. 
 
 " Before you go," he said, without looking at his 
 companion, " I want to present you with Fuller's 
 ' Spectral Analysis of Comets.' It is very readable." 
 
 He pushed it into Morgan's hands. The young 
 man would have liked to refuse it, for he knew the 
 
 dry piece of literature was one of the other's most 
 
 176
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 treasured possessions. But he realized it would 
 offend him. So he thanked him with a show of 
 much pleasure and left the bank. And it was many 
 a day before he again passed through that door. 
 
 At that moment, Mr. Rupert, sitting in his library, 
 called, a little peremptorily, to his wife as she passed 
 the doorway. 
 
 " Mrs. Rupert," he said, in the formal way he spoke 
 to her when he wished to say anything important. 
 " In the future we shall not ask Mr. Morgan to our 
 house." 
 
 There was a complete silence. She could hear 
 the rain-drops pattering on the porch roof. She 
 looked at him calmly, speculatively. 
 
 " I have already asked him," she said, at length. 
 
 " You will then be so good as to make arrange- 
 ment to postpone his coming indefinitely." 
 
 She had not taken her questioning eyes from him. 
 He returned her gaze with placid composure. 
 
 " Why ? " she asked. 
 
 " It is not necessary to go into it. I have dis- 
 charged him from the bank." 
 
 She closed her hands and opened them again. 
 
 " For what reason ? " she asked, still in her calm 
 
 voice. 
 
 177
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 " As I say," he returned, evenly, " it is not neces- 
 sary to go into that." 
 
 " Very well." 
 
 She picked up a bit of paper from the floor and 
 crumpling it up, threw it into the fire. 
 
 " I hope this is fully understood," exclaimed Mr. 
 Rupert, opening his magazine. 
 
 " I hear what you say. Mr. Morgan, however, is 
 dining here to-night." 
 
 " Then I dine somewhere else." 
 
 " I, of course, have no influence over your actions." 
 
 Down went the magazine. 
 
 " Do you realize," he demanded, " that the dinner 
 we are giving in this house to-night is for a very 
 honored guest, and that I must be here ? " 
 
 " I should think you ought to be here," she said, 
 calmly. 
 
 He paced the floor in a fury of repressed anger. 
 
 " Mrs. Berry Brown is a very rich woman and a 
 near neighbor. It is extremely important for us to 
 cultivate her." 
 
 " If she is nice," assented his wife, " I shall be 
 glad to have her here as often as she will come. 
 But I shouldn't say it was important." 
 
 "It is important," snapped the other, impatiently. 
 178
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 " She is an influential person. I propose to be at 
 dinner to-night And I beg you to notice that I say 
 now Mr. Morgan is not" 
 
 His wife smiled sweetly. 
 
 " The difficulty with such an arrangement is that 
 Mrs. Brown was especially asked to meet Mr. 
 Morgan." 
 
 Rupert stared at her as though she had taken 
 leave of her senses. 
 
 " In fact," she went on, " that was the reason why 
 this little party was arranged." 
 
 Her husband, a seething volcano, turned on his 
 heel and left the room. 
 
 Mrs. Rupert had had no intention of cultivating 
 Mrs. Berry Brown. When Mrs. Brown had bought 
 the farm and arranged the whole outfit in the ideal 
 way a plaything of the sort ought to be arranged in 
 order to be a plaything and not a work-place, Mrs. 
 Rupert, while she felt it was perhaps incumbent for 
 her to call on the newcomer, had decided that Mrs. 
 Brown was a little exotic and perhaps would not 
 appreciate the attention. So she had simply post- 
 poned it indefinitely, until one day when Mrs. Rupert 
 happened to be shopping at one of the village stores, 
 
 Mrs. Brown was there on the same errand, and a 
 
 179
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 community of interest had fostered a conversation 
 between them, the result of which was that Mrs. 
 Rupert did call on Mrs. Brown, an attention which 
 the latter promptly returned. 
 
 To Mrs. Rupert's surprise, one of the first things 
 her new neighbor had spoken of was a person named 
 Henry Morgan. The former lady had questioned 
 her delicately to discover if she knew the young 
 man's real identity. But Mrs. Brown, a large un- 
 speculative person, who had spent most of the last 
 ten years abroad and seemed to know very little of 
 affairs in her own country, explained that her only 
 knowledge of him was that a distant cousin, Made- 
 leine Graham, had asked in a letter whether she had 
 met him, and it had aroused Mrs. Brown's curiosity. 
 So the little dinner Mrs. Rupert had been planning 
 for a future date had materialized immediately. 
 
 Morgan sat beside Mrs. Brown on this occasion, 
 and the conversation was highly satisfactory. Mor- 
 gan had a splendid supply of perfectly fine sym- 
 pathetic monosyllables, which made very good 
 punctuation points. He learned volumes of things 
 he had never known before about Mrs. Brown's past 
 career. His mind became a treasure house in which 
 
 she filed away precious thoughts. He learned to 
 
 1 80
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 know her least whim and foible, to appreciate the 
 noble heroism of her life, to wonder at the stupendous 
 difficulties and trials she had overcome, to be initiated, 
 in a word, into the whole secret of her existence. 
 Mr. Rupert, of course, who sat at her other hand, 
 received many of these confidences, while Morgan 
 was resting, but his knowledge of the subject at the 
 end of the dinner was fragmentary as compared 
 with that of his former employee. The dear plump 
 lady was a good-natured, if untiring, conversa- 
 tionalist, however, and Morgan had a lurking idea, 
 quite a distance back in his brain, that she might be 
 amusing after the first rush of auto-biographical 
 enthusiasm had worn off, so he bore toward her no 
 malignant hatred. 
 
 He did not have an opportunity to talk to Mrs. 
 Rupert until just before he left, and then she could 
 not say the things she wanted to say, because they 
 were being so constantly interrupted. 
 
 " And your evening clothes," she whispered, sur- 
 veying him with admiration. " Did you have them 
 concealed about your person somewhere the morn- 
 ing we found you on the beach ? " 
 
 He laughed. 
 
 " No. Christmas present. Miss Graham asked 
 181
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 me what I wanted and I told her to contrive to get 
 these clothes of mine and send them to me." 
 
 She smiled and disappeared. And presently 
 Morgan had a sensation, which quickened his 
 blood and made his heart beat fast. Mrs. Berry 
 Brown was bustling off to get her little round figure 
 bundled up in countless wraps. As she passed by 
 Morgan she paused, beaming, and held out her 
 hand. 
 
 " You must come and see me," she said. " You 
 know Madeleine Graham, don't you ? " 
 
 "Yes," he said, surprised. 
 
 " She is coming to see me in a couple of weeks. 
 I want you to be sure and come to see me then." 
 
 He said simply that he would. But if Mrs. Brown 
 had looked, she would have noticed his high color. 
 
 182
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 THE next morning at half-past nine Mrs. Rupert 
 called up Morgan on the telephone at Miss 
 Torrey's, and was informed by that lady that the 
 young man had left with all his possessions and 
 gone over to live at the place he had bought from 
 Alexander Berry. Mrs. Rupert had a horse har- 
 nessed to her break cart and went there immediately. 
 She found Morgan endeavoring to repair the de- 
 crepit front steps. 
 
 " Go on," she said, when he had tied her horse, 
 " let me see you carpenter." 
 
 He gazed at the steps helplessly. 
 
 " It looked so easy," he confessed, " when I started." 
 
 She laid down a cardinal principle. 
 
 " No step is safe," she said, " unless it is supported 
 at both ends." 
 
 " But the board is not long enough." 
 
 " Get one that is." 
 
 He shook his head sadly. 
 
 " There is no such thing, apparently. After they 
 made these steps they stopped making long boards." 
 
 183
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 " Let me help," she said. " I have an idea." 
 
 He scoffed at the possibility, but she discovered a 
 long board on the chicken house which she thought 
 could be replaced by two without damage to the par- 
 ticular style of architecture in which it was built. He 
 saw the wisdom of the idea. With this board they 
 finally managed to repair the steps. The board was 
 split at both ends, and a certain percentage of the 
 nails instead of going all the way in had bent over 
 and were embedded sideways in the wood, but the 
 step would stand the weight of two persons with ap- 
 parent safety. 
 
 "What a satisfaction," he observed, "is a work 
 well done." 
 
 She laughed. 
 
 " Let's sit where we can look at something else," 
 she said. 
 
 They went in and warmed their numbed hands 
 before the fire he built up in the fireplace. 
 
 " The reason for this unconventional visit of mine," 
 she said at length, " is to find out all about it." 
 
 " My separation from the bank ? " 
 
 " Yes. I thought you were very efficient." 
 
 " What little there was to do, I think I did well 
 enough," he said. 
 
 184
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 " Then why were you discharged ? " 
 
 " I was not told." 
 
 "But you know." 
 
 " Of course," he said, " I know. It would be a 
 very difficult thing for me to go into with you. I am 
 sure you will get a more satisfactory account of it 
 from Mr. Rupert." 
 
 She flushed. 
 
 " It is a humiliation to me to have to admit that 
 Mr. Rupert would not tell me." 
 
 " Then " he began, and stopped. 
 
 " I know what you were going to say. You were 
 going to say ' Why should you ? ' " 
 
 " I was going to say," he answered, " that telling 
 you my side of the case would necessarily involve 
 stating my own interpretation of certain acts of your 
 husband." 
 
 "What you mean," she said in icy tones, " is that 
 it would involve telling some of the things he has 
 done. I understand you perfectly." 
 
 He did not answer. 
 
 " I am perfectly well aware," she said at length, 
 unemotionally, " that my husband is not honest" 
 
 A chill ran through him. He did not look at her, 
 
 but rose to move a log in the fireplace. 
 
 185
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 "I know that statement," she went on, " was like 
 a dash of cold water to you, and I don't know why 
 I made it. But I have gone on for two years now 
 knowing this, and never telling a soul." 
 
 " It was imprudent to tell me." 
 
 " Not imprudent," she returned, bitterly, " but I 
 should have had more dignity. Wild horses ought 
 not to have been able to drag it from me. I know 
 that." 
 
 " I do not know," said Morgan steadily, " that he 
 is not honest. I will not take your assertion for it." 
 
 She rose and stood before him. 
 
 " Morgan Holt, I am a poor wife to this man. I 
 hate the floor he walks on. I hate his house, his 
 food and his money. He speculates and does not 
 hesitate to use the bank's money in a tight place. 
 I also know that he never intended to cut the timber 
 in the swamp. I don't know what his game was, 
 but I understand some outsiders have spoiled it, and 
 that you had something to do with it. There is no 
 use trying to gloss over the thing. Everybody will 
 know it soon." 
 
 " If you understand that I had something to do 
 with it," he observed, " then you have the whole 
 
 story of why I left the bank." 
 
 1 86
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 " I felt that was it." Her eyes blazed. " But 
 imagine my own husband discharging you, and I 
 positively helpless to find out why. I had to know. 
 Some one had to tell me. It makes me nearly crazy 
 to be treated as a child." 
 
 She walked over and stood with her back to him, 
 looking out of the window. 
 
 " His one thought in life, his religion, you ought 
 to call it, is himself. He must impress the world 
 with his superior standing. He must impress me 
 with it, with all his fatuous complacency, as if I did 
 not know his heart like a book, beneath the veneer." 
 
 She came calmly back to the fire and sat down 
 with perfect self-possession before it. 
 
 " I think I do not care," she said, in a very quiet 
 voice now, " what you think of this tirade of mine. 
 I might have explained it to those andirons there, 
 and it would have served the same purpose. You 
 can see," she added, smiling faintly, " the pressure 
 has gone down somewhat." 
 
 He sat on the arm of a chair near her. 
 
 " God bless the man who invented safety-valves, ' 
 he said. 
 
 She smiled. 
 
 " I have tried your patience," she observed, " but 
 187
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 suppose this pretty little girl you are going to 
 marry turned out, after you had married her, to 
 have no sympathy with you, or understanding of 
 you, and did things you despised her for ; and you 
 had to stand up before the world every day and say 
 with sincerity, ' This is my wife, my satisfactory 
 wife.' Suppose that," she added, " and you under- 
 stand me." 
 
 He nodded. 
 
 " I have supposed," he said presently. 
 
 " Then you have done your duty for to-day." She 
 took up her coat from the chair where it lay. " Mrs. 
 Rupert will have to go now." 
 
 " Oh, no." 
 
 " Morgan Holt," she remonstrated, " I'm hungry." 
 
 " Oh," he cried, " please stay to lunch." 
 
 " I will." 
 
 " Funny thing," he observed, " as soon as a fellow 
 gets in a great palatial house like this, his friends 
 begin dropping in to meals." 
 
 She sniffed. 
 
 "Where are the signs of the meal?" she asked 
 sweetly. 
 
 " I have a cook," he explained. " That's three- 
 fourths of the battle." 
 
 1 88
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 "Where?" 
 
 He nodded to her. 
 
 " Oh 1 Mrs. Rupert. Charmed," she cried, and 
 tucked up her sleeves in a twinkling. 
 
 " Exhibit ' A ' the cook. Exhibit B,' the stove." 
 She took off the lid, and gazed into the black depths. 
 " Wood, Caliban ; and papers ; and matches." 
 
 She poked about in the pantry with a disdainful 
 housewifely air, touching every surface first with the 
 tip of her finger and dusting her hands afterward 
 with exaggerated daintiness. She put her nose into 
 every can and jar and box in the pantry, whether it 
 seemed promising of food or not, and by the time 
 Morgan had made the fire she had all the food out on 
 the table, and was making a great pretense of in- 
 decision as to what they should have. This was just 
 for effect, just as the man in the circus who wants 
 you to understand he is going to do a hard turn 
 makes a good show of getting ready for it before- 
 hand. 
 
 " If I can get a luncheon out of this array of 
 things,'' she observed, scornfully, " I shall be sur- 
 prised." 
 
 "Modesty," he exclaimed, approvingly, "is a very 
 
 commendable virtue." 
 
 189
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 She snapped her fingers at him. 
 
 " I'm not modest," she cried. " I'm scathingly 
 critical. If you weren't so impervious ! " 
 
 " I bought a great many expensive canned things 
 this morning," he explained apologetically. " I 
 thought the larder was unnecessarily sumptuous." 
 
 " No, you're wrong there. That's the beauty of 
 it. There isn't one unnecessary or superfluous thing 
 in it." 
 
 " But this conversation," he exclaimed, " doesn't 
 advance the cause of lunch. Perhaps I had better 
 take charge." 
 
 " Stand aside, boy. Grandmother Rupert will at- 
 tend to this." 
 
 He laughed. 
 
 " Grandmother, indeed. Married three years, and 
 only twenty when you were married." 
 
 " Nineteen," she corrected. " Please put a log of 
 wood in the stove." 
 
 He did that. 
 
 " Morgan," she demanded presently, " what are 
 you going to live on now ? " 
 
 " Perhaps I can get something else to do," he said 
 thoughtfully, " although I am sure I don't see what 
 
 just now." 
 
 190
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 " I suppose you have a little money put by." 
 
 " Yes, about twelve dollars." 
 
 " Morgan Holt ! " she cried. 
 
 " I can live here on almost nothing." 
 
 She frowned, and was silent for a long while. 
 
 " Don't worry at all about me," he went on. " I 
 always fall on my feet. I shall get money out of the 
 lumber company some day." 
 
 It was late in the afternoon when she again took 
 her coat out of the chair. 
 
 " I don't know when I am ever going to see you 
 again," she observed as he held it for her to slip into. 
 " I can't come to visit you here, and Mr. Rupert 
 seems to object to your presence at my house. For 
 that reason I braved the conventions and visited you 
 to-day. I had intended to be absolutely correct and 
 take you driving with me, but since no one knows 
 where I came this has done equally well." 
 
 " I am indeed more than indebted to you." 
 
 "Of course," she remarked, "I am apt to be 
 tragic at times, but if properly managed I soon be- 
 come rational again, as you observe." 
 
 He laughed. She stepped up into her break cart 
 and gathered up the reins. 
 
 " Now, remember," she cried smiling, " if you find 
 191
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 at any time that you just have to see me, write me 
 
 two words in a letter, and I will come, bringing you 
 
 a glass of jelly." 
 
 " Thank you," he said, " I like jelly." 
 
 She nodded, touched her horse, and drove off 
 
 down the road. 
 
 192
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 HE watched her with interest as she drove away. 
 She was a different person from the people he 
 had been used to. There was a pleasant air of in- 
 born gentility about her, the inheritance from many 
 generations. It lent a graceful distinction to her. 
 Her manners seemed to emanate from somewhere 
 within her and to be prompted by feelings of con- 
 sideration and generosity and appreciation of the 
 people about her. Whereas, he fancied that the 
 breeding of the people he had been brought up with 
 was a little more superficial a matter for the most 
 part of sophistication, a knowledge of what to do 
 and when to do it, a nice distinction of whom to be 
 nice to and how to do it in the proper way, a keen 
 appreciation of all the latest mannerisms and affecta- 
 tions, and an unerring knowledge of the approved 
 circumlocutions for expressing ideas that are ex- 
 pressed otherwise by shop-folk and plainer citizens. 
 
 In other words, they wore their manners in much 
 the same way as the judges at a horse show wear 
 
 193
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 their official badges. It is a means of admission to 
 the exhibition ring, and an explanation of their 
 presence there when they have entered and bask in 
 the full glory of the sacred precincts. Their manners 
 were apt to rest upon their shoulders with the same 
 discomfort, perhaps, that their more formal clothes 
 did, and, when opportunity offered to loose the 
 bonds and don something a little easier and more 
 natural, they cast off their graces and appeared in a 
 sort of unmannered dishabille. He had seen his 
 friends nay, Madeleine herself treat people who 
 had no claim to social equality (or who had claims 
 but no foundation for them) with a good old Stone- 
 Age straightforwardness that had not a trace of 
 aristocracy or manners or breeding, or any such 
 palliation. 
 
 But Mrs. Rupert found no great distinction be- 
 tween human beings. There was no pride or self- 
 aggrandizement that would prevent her from pick- 
 ing up the old peddler, black cloth bag and all, and 
 driving with him along the public highway to wher- 
 ever he wanted to go. There was no sense of 
 superiority that would prevent her from visiting the 
 tenant-house on her husband's farm, when the 
 
 mother of the half dozen infants there was ill, and 
 
 194
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 dressing each one of those soiled offsprings, one after 
 the other. She may not have enjoyed the process, 
 and she may have hurried home to soap and water 
 with relief, but she felt they were inhabitants of the 
 same world as she was, and were entitled to her 
 ministrations. 
 
 He felt that, if he had learned nothing else from 
 his pilgrimage to view the world, the example of this 
 sort of consideration for every one was worth it all. 
 A man can live along in one environment which de- 
 pends for its existence on the permanency of the idea 
 (however glibly that idea may be paraphrased) that 
 certain people are immeasurably superior to the rest 
 of the world, and that the rest of the world must be 
 treated from that standpoint, and not be sensible of 
 the selfishness and narrowness of such a life. But 
 the example of some one diligently endeavoring to 
 treat all the people she came in contact with (while 
 thoroughly aware of the difference in intelligence, 
 and physical cleanliness, and sometimes in moral 
 instincts that existed between them) as if there was 
 an equality of something inside them all as if the 
 atom called a soul in the bag-peddler was indistin- 
 guishable from the atom called a soul in her : that 
 example gave him a new view of life. 
 
 195
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 It was well for him to have such an optimistic 
 thought now and then when reviewing, in his mind, 
 his voluntary exile from comfort and home, and en- 
 deavoring to find out whether it was proving worth 
 while. It must be confessed that he had entered into 
 the arrangement without deep thought upon it. It 
 had been impulse, mostly, that prompted him, 
 backed only by a certain excitement over a very 
 charming girl and by an intuition that he was doing 
 a necessary thing to overcome a difficulty that had 
 been a source of worry to him for some time. It was 
 that intuition that made him persist in the arrange- 
 ment. 
 
 At times he grew melancholy over the whole 
 project ; as any one, branching out uncertainly in a 
 new direction, is apt to do. His mission had thus far 
 been more or less fruitless, he somehow thought, as 
 fitting him for his future life. He had learned more 
 of people and of business, it is true. He had been 
 training his mind to the work of accomplishing 
 things. But was it logical for a man to prepare him- 
 self for one life by leading another ? Should a man 
 desiring, perhaps, to be a railroad president first 
 study the trade of a cobbler ? It was a grave ques- 
 tion. One great objection to this new life was that 
 
 196
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 he found, instead of smoothing the way for the life 
 he was to return to, it pointed out all the defects and 
 deficiencies of it. He would never be able to take 
 up the thread of his old existence with the same com- 
 fort and complacency % as before. 
 
 One dull, leaden morning he had been threshing 
 out this problem while chopping a great pile of 
 wood, endeavoring to persuade himself that he was 
 going forward in the business of life, and not back- 
 ward ; that he was having an enjoyable time. At 
 length he decided to give up the wood-chopping, 
 which is conducive to too much introspection, and 
 undertake some task which required more ingenuity 
 and thought upon the condition of the work than 
 upon the condition of the worker. There was the 
 least flurry of snow in the air ; and as John Ander- 
 son had explained to him that when the snow was 
 on the ground he could trap rabbits more easily, he 
 got some old boards and proceeded, with much 
 effort, to put together a rabbit-trap, following the 
 rules the landlord had laid down. When it was 
 finished the most that could be said of it was that 
 it was a rabbit-trap. It was by no means a piece of 
 carpentry, but it had the appearance of being strong 
 
 enough to hold any rabbit. In construction it was 
 
 197
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 simply a box about a yard long and narrow enough 
 so that the rabbit could not turn about in it. At the 
 far end the bait rested on a trigger which let down 
 a wooden gate behind the little animal, preventing 
 him forever from going out by that same door 
 wherein he went. 
 
 By three in the afternoon the evidences of snow 
 were even more pronounced. He took the trap 
 under his arm and started off into the woods. 
 Along the trail that led up to the swamp he had 
 seen many rabbits at various times, and he decided 
 that this would be a propitious place to set the trap. 
 After a great deal of indecision as to where to put it 
 so that the rabbits would be certain not to overlook 
 it, and the chance passer-by would be equally certain 
 to overlook it, he finally discovered a spot which 
 commended itself to him, and placed it in what he 
 conceived to be the proper position. This done, in 
 spite of saner thoughts, he could not resist the 
 temptation to conceal himself and wait to see 
 whether a rabbit would go into it. He was crouch- 
 ing behind some bushes peering out at the trap with 
 boyish eagerness, when suddenly all the primeval 
 instincts of the chase were driven from his mind by 
 
 a pleasant laugh from some one who had been 
 
 198
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 standing on the pathway watching him with amused 
 curiosity. 
 
 " Morgan, what are you doing?" 
 
 It was Mrs. Rupert. He looked up and began to 
 laugh. 
 
 " Why," he said, flushing consciously, " I was 
 catching rabbits. I am still not quite grown up," he 
 added, apologetically. 
 
 "Do you mean to say you were sitting there 
 watching for a rabbit to go into your trap ? " 
 
 He could see the cheerful amusement in her eyes. 
 But she was so even-tempered that you could not 
 resent her laughing at you. 
 
 "You must make allowances for me," he said. 
 " All these things are new to me, and I have a city- 
 bred curiosity to see what does happen. Did I put 
 that thing in the right place ? " he asked, suddenly. 
 
 "Not at all," she replied, glancing at the trap. 
 " It would be months, maybe years, before you 
 caught a rabbit in it." 
 
 His face fell. 
 
 "Why is that?" he asked, crestfallen. 
 
 She smiled, with her entertaining air of elder and 
 settled wisdom. 
 
 " I must show you," she said. 
 199
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 She walked through the trees, looking about her 
 attentively. At length she paused. 
 
 " Here," she cried. 
 
 He followed her. She had found a narrow, hardly 
 discernible track through the undergrowth, where 
 tiny feet had worn a straight path. 
 
 " That," she said, " is a rabbit lead. They always 
 run along the same path. So your trap over there 
 in the bushes wouldn't be apt to attract much at- 
 tention." 
 
 He looked eagerly at the worn streak across the 
 sparse grass. 
 
 " You are a continual education to me," he cried, 
 and went after his trap. 
 
 Under her direction he set it properly in place. 
 
 " I hope I show," he said, when this operation was 
 finished, " how very fortunate I consider myself at 
 having met you." 
 
 "All this joy simply on account of the rabbit- 
 trap ? " she asked, with a quizzical smile. 
 
 She was very interesting when she was making 
 fun of him. She had the air of having intended to 
 say something else and of having surprised herself 
 by saying what she did. That would make her 
 
 laugh, and, when she laughed, her face, usually 
 
 200
 
 "iT MAKES ONE FEEL SO YOUNG "
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 calm and serene, with a touch of almost matronly 
 dignity, was the face of a vivacious girl, mischievous 
 and bubbling over with good humor. 
 
 He laughed at her. 
 
 " You are always twisting my remarks about to 
 make them mean something else," he said. 
 
 " Never mind, what I should have said was, I hope 
 you catch a rabbit." She held out her hand. "I 
 believe it is beginning to snow now. That is a sure 
 sign of catching a rabbit." 
 
 The air was presently full of gently falling snow. 
 
 "This is glorious," she cried, gaily. "The reason 
 I came out on such a dull day was in the hope that 
 it would snow before I got back. It makes me feel 
 so young and care-free." 
 
 " If I were not attired," he said, " in a flannel shirt 
 and corduroys, I should walk back with you." 
 
 " You will walk back with me anyway," she cried, 
 decisively. " I never heard of such aristocratic 
 ideas. Do you suppose that patent leather shoes 
 and a stiff hat would make you more entertaining ? 
 It isn't your beauty so much as your conversation I 
 like you for." 
 
 " Some people like me best for one, some for the 
 
 other," he returned, impudently. 
 
 201
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 "You are most brazen," she said, admiringly. 
 " But since you are going home with me, suppose we 
 go along this path through the woods. I hate to 
 waste both your beauty and your conversation on 
 such a deserted place," she added, smiling, " but I 
 think it will be pleasanter." 
 
 The snow fell steadily. When they came out on 
 the road they found the ground heavily covered. It 
 bid fair to be a big storm. The flakes were thick, 
 and a wind had sprung up from the northwest that 
 sent them swirling and flurrying in great white 
 clouds across the fields. The windward side of trees 
 and fences was covered with layers of snow. When 
 they came to the Ruperts' house it was already dark. 
 
 " Mr. Rupert is in New York," she said, as they 
 walked up to the house. 
 
 " The town paper said he was planning to go. It 
 is impossible to have private affairs in this town." 
 
 " Then I shall give them an item for the social 
 column by asking you to dinner, and if you say flan- 
 nel shirt or corduroy suit, I shall probably never 
 speak to you again." 
 
 " In that event those two words will not cross my 
 lips. But if Mr. Rupert objects so strenuously " 
 
 " It is your presence that seems to bore him. I 
 
 202
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 don't think he minds my being bored by it. At any 
 rate," she said, frowning a little, " I don't think I will 
 be bound by such a restriction." 
 
 " Well," he replied, " I am very anxious to stay." 
 
 They kicked the snow off their shoes at the porch 
 and shook off the drifts from their coats and hats. 
 Within the maid finished the operation. A fine 
 wood-fire burned in the hall fireplace. 
 
 " I will leave you to your own devices for a while," 
 Mrs. Rupert said. " I am going to prepare a 
 wonderful salad for us. I discovered it the other day 
 in an old cook book. I am becoming perfectly de- 
 voted to it." 
 
 There is nothing more charming to a man than 
 for a woman to want to share with him a thing she 
 likes. Had she announced that she intended to pre- 
 pare something she knew he was fond of, he would 
 have been pleased ; but when she said it was some- 
 thing that appealed to her, he felt a glow of warm 
 enthusiasm for it. And that salad, when he ate it, 
 came very close to being the very best salad he ever 
 ate. 
 
 It was a very comfortable meal. The wind sang 
 outside, and the snow blew in soft flurries against 
 
 the window-panes. The fire of cannel coal in the 
 
 203
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 grate cracked and burst and burned with bright, 
 cordial flames. The red-shaded candles on the table 
 threw a ruddy glow on the white cloth and made 
 every bit of silver reflect tiny points of ruby light. 
 Mrs. Rupert had changed to a simple dark dress, cut 
 so that it showed her white, full neck and her 
 pleasantly rounded arms. The maid brought in a 
 roast chicken, so perfectly browned that it looked as 
 if it might have been an imitation chicken painted 
 and varnished. And Morgan, in his corduroy suit 
 and flannel shirt, but perfectly contented withal, sat 
 at the head of the table and carved the fowl, with a 
 pleasant, domestic sense of proprietorship over every- 
 thing. 
 
 "You are a very impressive boy," she said, watch- 
 ing him with interest. " You carve with the ease of 
 a hardened old householder." 
 
 " This is the sort of thing I like," he cried, eagerly. 
 " I like a great big knife and a great big fork and a 
 poor defenseless chicken." He paused and gestic- 
 ulated with those two instruments. " I am a prosaic 
 person. I like comfort physical comfort I like 
 the wind roaring against the shutters outside, the fire 
 crackling hot in the grate, hot food steaming on the 
 
 table, hot " He paused and laughed con- 
 
 204
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 sciously. " I beg your pardon," he said. " What 
 part of this chicken did you say you liked best ? " 
 
 He gave her plate to the maid. 
 
 " I wish you would stop me when I begin to 
 rhapsodize like that. I forget what I am doing. 
 But I was meant for a comfortable middle class 
 householder who prefers to sit down after his din- 
 ner with his feet on the fender and read until he is 
 sleepy, rather than to put on a stiff shirt and an un- 
 comfortable collar and go out and yawn his head off 
 surrounded by palms and a band." 
 
 " You are the worst type of person to be an 
 aristocrat," she said, thoughtfully. 
 
 "A very bad type, I admit, but I must over- 
 come it." 
 
 She held up her hands and laughed. 
 
 " Don't try to overcome your virtues." 
 
 " But the man who sits calmly at home soon be- 
 comes stagnant. He gets in a rut." 
 
 She shook her head. 
 
 "What of the man who goes about during his 
 natural sleeping hours attending functions that bore 
 him, talking to ambitionless people, and eating 
 indigestible food; and, following that, sleeps habitu- 
 ally until noon. Isn't that getting into a rut ? " 
 
 205
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 " But he is keeping alive to what is going on in 
 the world." 
 
 " No," she returned, " only to what is going on in 
 a small part of it. A man who keeps alive to what 
 is going on in the world is a man who knows what 
 is happening between sunrise and sunset. That is 
 the time when men accomplish things." 
 
 " You believe then," he said, " that work is the 
 secret of happiness." 
 
 She looked up with a smile. 
 
 " Haven't you found it so?" she said. 
 
 He thought a moment. 
 
 " I have been happier here, I think, than I have 
 been anywhere. I experience a feeling of content- 
 ment here," he added, " which never quite occurred 
 anywhere else." 
 
 She put her elbows on the table and rested her 
 chin on her hands. 
 
 "You have just about come to the fork in 
 the road, haven't you ? " she inquired, in a mo- 
 ment. 
 
 He looked at her in surprise. 
 
 " What do you mean ? " he demanded. 
 
 " I mean that you are beginning to find that the 
 
 difference between life in Prince Charles and life in 
 
 206
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 New York is fundamental ; and you have to choose 
 between them." 
 
 " Choose between them ? " he repeated. " Why, 
 the choice was made for me when I was born as I was." 
 
 She picked up her spoon and pointed it at him 
 with a gesture that demanded attention. 
 
 " A time is coming then when you will have to 
 decide all over again for yourself. You have dis- 
 covered here the satisfaction of work and the ex- 
 hilaration of playing the game on an equal footing 
 with the rest of the world. And having done that it 
 is going to be hard for you to step back into a rigid 
 social system which has established rules for you to 
 follow whether you like them or not, and gives you 
 no opportunity for ambition outside its bounds, no 
 opportunity to reach forward and grasp anything 
 worth while." 
 
 Morgan made a row of perpendicular marks on 
 the cloth with his thumb nail. 
 
 " I have always thought," he replied, " that I was 
 a little cramped up there." 
 
 " It is very cramped. It is as if you were a strong 
 Percheron exercising at the end of a rope in a 
 paddock by being allowed to trot around a small 
 
 circle." 
 
 207
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 " Well," he said, smiling, " I have to go back to 
 it. Perhaps by my own efforts I can make the circle 
 I exercise in a little wider." 
 
 " The only thing to do is to jump over the pad- 
 dock fence," she said, decisively. 
 
 Her words stuck in his mind. Jump over the 
 paddock fence. It had a fine, dashing, revolutionary 
 sound. But why should she think it was necessary 
 for him to escape from anything ? In his life and at 
 his command were all the things that mortal man 
 wishes for most. The natural supposition would be 
 that, rather than attempt to get out, he would in- 
 crease the height of the fence to keep others from 
 coming in. 
 
 " Don't you know," he asked, coming back to the 
 subject, just before he left, to try to make his way 
 home through the snow, " that I am considered the 
 most fortunate young man in Manhattan ? " 
 
 " I think you are fortunate," she said, turning her 
 fine, cheerful eyes toward him, " but it is because 
 you have intellect and energy and ambition. It is 
 because you are what I call a man." 
 
 He flushed in his embarrassment until he felt 
 the glow in his face, but in his heart the quickened 
 
 thumping was pleasant and exciting. 
 
 208
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 " Thank you," he said, in a moment, " I should 
 like always to feel that I am fortunate on that ac- 
 count rather than on the other." 
 
 She followed him to the door and peered out. A 
 great cloud of drifting and flying snow swept across 
 the porch and the cold air rushed in, leaving a wintry 
 patch on the floor. She shivered in her thin gown. 
 
 " I wish you wouldn't go out in this," she called to 
 him. 
 
 " I am all right. I like it," she thought she 
 heard him say, as though he were a long way off. 
 Closing the door, she pressed her face against its 
 glass panel, shading the pane with her hand from 
 the reflection of the light behind her, and endeavored 
 to see out into the night. But all was dark, and 
 nothing was visible save the scurrying flakes that 
 blew across the streaks of light from the windows. 
 
 She sat down before the open fire, and presently 
 the maid came in to say that it was snowing and 
 blowing so hard that it was nearly impossible to go 
 about outside. It had taken the coachman a long 
 time to go to the stable and back. Mrs. Rupert rose. 
 
 " In that case," she said, anxiously, " Mr. Morgan 
 cannot possibly make his way home. Tell Thomas 
 
 to get his lantern quickly and go bring him back." 
 
 209
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 The maid disappeared. Mrs. Rupert stood still, 
 listening. The wind rattled the shutters, and the 
 driving snow struck against them as if it were 
 shovelfuls of sand. There was no sound of opening 
 and closing door at the rear of the house. She 
 went out through the pantry. Thomas was slowly 
 putting on his boots. She said nothing, but return- 
 ing, seized a heavy coat from the hall closet, thrust 
 her feet into a pair of high arctics, and pulled a tam- 
 o'-shanter down over her head. Then, taking an 
 electric torch in her hand, she stepped out into the 
 storm. 
 
 Morgan himself, blinded by the snow, and endeav- 
 oring to work himself away from the house toward 
 the road, was floundering in a drift that seemed to 
 have formed along a hedge. The snow was above 
 his knees, and as he waded through it, the hedge, 
 with diabolical intent, seemed to follow after him and 
 lie down at his feet for him to fall over. He had just 
 shaken himself loose from its toils and was taking his 
 bearings, for the fiftieth time, by the lights of the 
 house, when he saw Mrs. Rupert emerge from the 
 lighted doorway. At first he could not imagine 
 what the matter could be, until suddenly it dawned 
 
 upon him, as he saw her torch, that she had come after 
 
 210
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 him. He turned immediately and made toward 
 her through the drifts. The hedge caught up 
 to him and threw him down. He scrambled to his 
 feet, and, continuing toward her, soon came to snow 
 less deep, and seemed apparently to have outdis- 
 tanced his opponent. As soon as he could make 
 himself heard against the wind, he called to her. 
 She stopped. He was beside her in a moment. 
 
 " Oh," she cried, out of breath, " I never knew 
 such hard walking." 
 
 He stood between her and the wind. 
 
 " Why did you come out ? " he asked. 
 
 " After you." 
 
 He was about to remonstrate with her, but decided 
 to save his scolding. 
 
 " Let's go back," he said. 
 
 They turned toward the house. 
 
 " It's a very long way," she said. " It seems so 
 much further than it was coming." 
 
 He hesitated. 
 
 " I don't think it will seem so," he observed, with 
 sudden decision. 
 
 He lifted her into his arms and struggled through 
 the drifts with her toward the house. She took this 
 calmly, putting one arm firmly about his shoulder. 
 
 211
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 She could hear his heavy breathing, and feel the 
 tense, wiry muscles of his arms that held her as 
 steadily and yet as gently as if she had been a baby. 
 He set her down safely on the porch. 
 
 " That was very handsome of you," she said, 
 gravely. But two bright spots glowed on her 
 cheeks. 
 
 They went into the house. She put her hand upon 
 the shoulder of his coat. 
 
 "Your clothes are very wet." I must send you 
 to bed immediately." 
 
 She lighted a candle set in a brass candlestick, 
 and handed it to him. 
 
 " Good-night," she said. 
 
 " Good-night. You were very good to come after 
 me." 
 
 She made a deprecatory gesture with her hand. 
 
 " Please hurry to bed," she said, " or you will 
 catch cold." 
 
 She indicated the location of his room, and hold- 
 ing his candle carefully, he went up the wide, 
 straight stair. 
 
 212
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 WHEN Morgan awoke in the morning, it was 
 light, and the sun was endeavoring to peep 
 through the solid gray of the sky. The snow had 
 stopped, but the wind swept white clouds across the 
 glaring surface of the fields, like companies of 
 soldiers hurrying into position ; and where there was 
 a fence or a house, or a clump of trees the clouds 
 stopped to increase the mounds already there. The 
 whole world without was a white, untouched plain, 
 which the foot of no man had indented, and on 
 which the tracks of the rabbit, running bewildered 
 along the nearly covered hedge, were instantly oblit- 
 erated. The limbs of the trees, on each one of 
 which stood up a miniature wall of snow, bent 
 heavily toward the ground. Two sparrows fluttered 
 distractedly against the sill of his window and 
 rushed wildly off again, searching on the eider robe 
 that covered the ground for some familiar spot, for 
 some cache containing food that yesterday had 
 existed beyond doubt and now was nowhere to be 
 
 found. 
 
 213
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 As he went out into the hall, he heard Mrs. Rupert 
 singing in one of the rooms below. It was a pleas- 
 ant contrast to the unchanging stillness of his own 
 house. The song stopped when she heard his foot- 
 step on the stair, and she appeared at the doorway 
 between the library and the hall. 
 
 " Think of being so luxurious," was her irrelevant 
 greeting. She looked refreshing and pleasantly clean 
 in her white starched shirt-waist and blue cloth skirt. 
 
 " Am I very late ? " he asked. 
 
 " Not really very late." 
 
 " I was so comfortable I think I must have for- 
 gotten to awake." 
 
 " Were you comfortable ? The things I had put 
 in your room were experimental as to size." 
 
 He laughed. 
 
 "The experiment was successful. I regret that 
 Mr. Rupert's wardrobe is such a versatile one." 
 
 She poured the cream in his cup with extreme care. 
 
 " Why do you say that ? " she demanded, without 
 looking up. 
 
 " I am already too much indebted to your hus- 
 band." 
 
 The maid entered with steaming hot rolls, so that 
 
 Mrs. Rupert did not make the reply that was on her 
 
 214
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 tongue. But the ministrations of the former were 
 presently complete, and she faded into her lair be- 
 yond the swinging door. 
 
 " I think," observed Mrs. Rupert, as if no interval of 
 time had elapsed, " that the shoe is on the other foot." 
 
 Morgan recognized it as a warmed-over remark 
 and fitted it into its proper place. 
 
 " You surprise me," he cried. " Didn't he feed 
 me and clothe me and give me a place in his bank ? " 
 
 " But certainly you must have seen," she observed, 
 " how far behind the bank was in its work when you 
 went there." 
 
 " Of course. Old Peters is the most accurate and 
 reliable machine in existence ; but his multiplicity of 
 systems and entries and files is so slow that he never 
 can keep things up-to-date." 
 
 " And you will remember that the time you were 
 taken in was the time for computing interest on de- 
 posits." 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " And that when you were dismissed, all the inter- 
 est had been computed, and the annual report fin- 
 ished, so that it was perfectly safe to dispense with 
 your services." 
 
 There was no resentment nor note of accusation in 
 215
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 this speech. She said it gently, with the same calm- 
 ness that she would have informed him of the time 
 of day. 
 
 " I know," she said, " that you think you are in- 
 debted to him, and that am I right you have 
 therefore felt embarrassed at opposing him ?" 
 
 " Exactly. I had to work for him or for the peo- 
 ple who held the bonds and both sides had claims 
 on me." 
 
 She was thoughtful for a moment. 
 
 " I think I am safe in saying/' she went on, " that 
 he would not have taken an interest in you, or, hav- 
 ing taken an interest and been rebuffed as he was 
 when you left this house that first morning, he would 
 never have sent for you ; had he not had in mind the 
 fact that you were just the young man he wanted." 
 
 " But there must be plenty of young men " 
 
 She shook her head vigorously. 
 
 "Oh, no indeed. That is the great trouble. 
 Either the young men were simply farm-bred and in- 
 capable, or they have been sent away for their educa- 
 tion, and refuse, when they return, to work for such a 
 small salary." 
 
 " Then you think " he said, " that it was not hyp- 
 ocrisy in me." 
 
 216
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 " On the contrary, you have performed a great 
 service to the community. You may have thwarted 
 one man, but you have been a friend in need to a 
 hundred more." 
 
 He drew a sigh of relief. 
 
 " You are a great comfort to me," he said. 
 
 For a while he ate his breakfast in silence. She 
 was indeed a comfort. He looked up at her. She 
 was bending with great interest over the cream 
 pitcher, endeavoring to extract by means of a fork 
 two petals that had fallen into it in the course of the 
 moulting process of the flowers that marked the 
 center of the table. She smiled. He pictured Mad- 
 eleine and himself coming down to breakfast and 
 Madeleine taking an interest in separating blossoms 
 from dairy products by means of a fork sitting down 
 at his table. The domesticity of the scene warmed 
 his heart. He felt a thrill of comfort that was so 
 real it made him tingle all over. He wondered that 
 Mr. Rupert did not get more joy out of his house 
 and his wonderful wife. 
 
 She looked up presently. 
 
 " You were not meant at all to be a millionaire, 
 were you ? " 
 
 " Why ? " 
 
 217
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 " Your tastes are so simple. When the world ex- 
 pects you to travel from spot to spot in an automo- 
 bile, you prefer to walk. Whereas your position de- 
 mands display, dress and general ostentation, you 
 are quiet and retiring. You like trees and sunshine 
 and the song birds better than taxicabs and hotels 
 and the great lighted way. You are no more a 
 millionaire in spirit than I am, and I confess to lik- 
 ing coffee with my meals better than afterward, and 
 a thousand other plebeian sins." 
 
 He laughed. 
 
 " What you say is true. My soul doesn't crave 
 the sort of galvanic relaxation that comes from noise 
 and lights and throngs of people, and all that sort of 
 wholesale unrest. I can enjoy myself without effort 
 between the hours of seven and ten in the evening. 
 There is no insatiable demand within me that my 
 social pleasures shall begin after midnight, as there 
 is apparently in people who enjoy themselves by 
 means of cotillions. But as I cannot change all that 
 by the simple statement that I do not like it, I sup- 
 pose that I shall have to do just as the others do." 
 
 " But why not be honest about it ? If you don't 
 like it, why do you do it ? You will excuse my being 
 
 very frank with you, won't you ? But why not live 
 
 218
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 your life as you want to, and make out of yourself 
 what you want to make out of yourself ? " 
 
 He looked at her keenly. 
 
 " What do you feel," he asked slowly, " that I 
 want to make out of myself ? " 
 
 She leaned eagerly forward. 
 
 " A man," she said, " a fine upstanding man. A 
 person of whom I could say twenty years hence that 
 he had shouldered his way through the world by his 
 own efforts, and that whatever of position or of in- 
 fluence, of respect of his fellow men he possessed, it 
 was due to his own efforts ; in other words, that 
 Morgan Holt had made Morgan Holt." 
 
 He was looking straight at her, and he saw that 
 her earnestness had brought just a trace of moisture 
 to her eyes. 
 
 " I know," he said, seriously. " That would be 
 very wonderful. That is just what I mean to try to 
 do. That is the reason why I made this trip away 
 Quixotic as it may seem, as it does seem very 
 often to me." 
 
 " I do not think it is Quixotic. If it has put into 
 you the seed of the desire to make something of 
 yourself, to accomplish something, it has been the 
 most wonderful thing in the world." 
 
 219
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 " I believe," he said, thoughtfully, " it has done 
 that." 
 
 She paused a moment. 
 
 "And I believe," she said presently, " that when 
 you have gone to New York, it will bring you back 
 again to Prince Charles." 
 
 " To live ? " 
 
 " To live." 
 
 He shook his head. 
 
 " There is no chance of that," he said, decisively. 
 " There would be no use in it." 
 
 " You may not do it, but I think you will wish 
 to. I think you will always wish to be earning 
 your living. You are healthier and happier than 
 when you came here first and you have pinker 
 cheeks." 
 
 " And doubtless a better digestion," he agreed. 
 
 " Of course you have all those things." 
 
 " But," he objected, " I could not take any inter- 
 est in earning my living if I had this income of a 
 million dollars a year." 
 
 " That income," she said, " is the greatest concern 
 in your life. It is pointing the way to a life of idle- 
 ness and uselessness and lack of effort. Whereas, 
 
 Providence, with a fine sense of humor, has en- 
 
 220
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 dowed you with a brain and a heart full of ambi- 
 tion." She smiled. " And there is your problem." 
 
 He smiled too. But he was very thoughtful. 
 
 " Following out your line of argument, it would 
 seem as if I had no chance to make anything of my- 
 self unless some one comes along and takes my 
 money from me." 
 
 She rose from the table. 
 
 " If that ever should happen," she said, " I know 
 that you would be quite capable of taking care of 
 yourself without it. I know that from what I learn 
 of the way you have handled this cypress operation." 
 
 They talked no more about the question then, but 
 when she drove him home in her sleigh late that 
 afternoon and set him down before his snow-encom- 
 passed house, he said : 
 
 " I have thought a great deal about what you have 
 said. And who knows ; some day I may decide to 
 jump over the paddock fence." 
 
 221
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 
 "X TEGOTIATIONS between Mr. Rupert (acting 
 -I- ^1 for the Prince Charles Cypress Company) and 
 the lumber company in Norfolk hung fire. The 
 Norfolk company believed that they had Rupert 
 cornered ; and if they had known as much as Rupert 
 knew, they would have been certain of it. But the 
 bank cashier knew he did not have to give in until 
 the first of May, when the bonds had to be repaid. 
 So he asked impossible terms, and delayed, and af- 
 fected a lack of interest in the hope that something 
 would turn up before that date. The firm in Nor- 
 folk owned twenty-three thousand dollars' worth of 
 the bonds ; and Mr. Rupert, although theoretically 
 having twenty-five thousand dollars to redeem them, 
 actually had much less than that sum, owing to the 
 fact that, secure in his ability to retain the money for 
 some time more by manipulating his bond issues, he 
 had invested part of it in a certain project which he 
 expected to make big returns but not for some 
 
 time. He was so very calm and unruffled about the 
 
 222
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 matter, in his bland, exasperating way, that even 
 Perkins was at times deceived into believing that 
 perhaps the man had a card up his sleeve. But 
 they were firm, and Rupert knew they would be 
 firm, in insisting on the redemption at the proper 
 time of all the bonds they themselves held and of as 
 many as possible of those held by others, unless the 
 Prince Charles Cypress Company turned the title 
 absolutely over to them. 
 
 If the Prince Charles Company redeemed the 
 bonds held by the Norfolk company, it would cost 
 the former twenty-three thousand dollars, and they 
 would have nothing in return for it but the title to 
 the swamp, which they did not want, and an in- 
 debtedness of seventeen thousand dollars in bonds 
 still to satisfy. Of this remaining seventeen thou- 
 sand dollars, about seven thousand had been con- 
 verted into second-mortgage bonds, which they did 
 not intend to pay. This of course was a help. 
 
 Mr. Rupert saw, however, he was due to be 
 squeezed. He had floated his forty thousand dollar 
 bond issue by virtue of the credulity of the people. 
 If they paid the Norfolk company twenty-three 
 thousand dollars, and scattering others perhaps five 
 
 thousand, to redeem bonds, they would be paying 
 
 223
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 twenty-eight thousand dollars to hold title to land 
 they had only paid fifteen thousand dollars for in 
 the first place. This was impossible. Little Mr. 
 Perkins was obviously in a position to dictate his 
 own terms. It was perfectly plain that Mr. Rupert 
 would have to buy his way out. 
 
 Naturally, Mr. Rupert delayed. And Morgan, on 
 his little farm, was hard pressed on that account. 
 His expenses living there were very little indeed. 
 And having no money, he found economy, at last, a 
 necessity. He endeavored to obtain something else 
 to do in the village, but discovered that there was 
 nothing at that time of the year. He discovered 
 also that his prestige was just a trifle battered by 
 his discharge from the bank ; for so great was the 
 reputation Mr. Rupert enjoyed, by reason of his 
 arrogant self-possession, that, in spite of the cloud 
 that had recently been cast over the cypress deal, 
 they still felt assured that he must be in the right 
 rather than this newcomer. Such is the persistence 
 of a strong reputation once thoroughly established. 
 
 The problem of sustenance was indeed a crying 
 one to the young man. He found that old Alex- 
 ander had left a good many potatoes in the cellar 
 
 perhaps five or six bushels. And there was a vener- 
 
 224
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 able shotgun, which proved, on investigation, to 
 fire out of the proper end of the barrel. With this 
 he used to kill an animal in the woods now and 
 then, a rabbit or a squirrel, or sometimes a fine, fat 
 'possum, the taste of which he despised, but which 
 he was frequently hungry enough to eat in spite of 
 himself. He cut all his own fire-wood. When he 
 saw that he was gradually using up all the wood 
 lying about, he began the operation of felling a 
 huge oak tree in the woods. This he at length ac- 
 complished. He trimmed it carefully, and then, 
 deciding that the services of a man for one day 
 would be a good investment, he hired a negro for a 
 dollar to help him saw it into four-foot sections. 
 These he split with a wedge. But when he had 
 split himself a fine cord of wood, a man came along 
 and offered him two dollars and a half for it, where 
 it was ; and he had to begin all over again. This 
 happened a second time and a third time. It kept 
 him busy and at the end of each day he was worn 
 out He slept like a harvest hand. 
 
 And then he discovered that good oak cord-wood 
 such as he was splitting was worth three dollars and 
 a half a cord delivered, and that it was very hard to 
 
 get, at that, so that the man who purchased it from 
 
 225
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 him made a dollar on the transaction. This middle 
 man coming in on the deal did not please him at 
 all. It was against all business principle. So, argu- 
 ing that if he were earning his living there was no 
 need in the world to be ashamed of it, he went to 
 several of the people in Prince Charles and solicited 
 orders for cord-wood from them. And when he had 
 orders for four cords, he hired a horse and wagon 
 for a day for a dollar and a half and delivered the 
 wood himself. On one of these trips as he was 
 sitting on his load of wood urging his plodding 
 animal along, he had the satisfaction of humiliating 
 Mr. Rupert, when he passed in his automobile, by 
 actually speaking to him in the most friendly man- 
 ner in the world. The bank cashier swept proudly 
 by, moving not a muscle. 
 
 These four cords of wood, however, were the 
 result of his two weeks' work, and when he had 
 been paid, the tax collector came along and took all 
 of it. He had arranged to pay his interest on the 
 mortgage monthly, as he knew he should never be 
 able to keep a large enough hoard of money intact 
 to pay an annual interest of one hundred and twenty 
 dollars. When the first of April came along, he 
 
 walked down to the village and paid over ten 
 
 226
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 dollars to the man who held the mortgage. Three 
 dollars of it was in silver and he had left thirty-three 
 cents, with no chance of selling another cord of 
 wood for nearly a week. 
 
 That was the hardest week he spent. The pota- 
 toes were running very low. He had poor luck with 
 his gun. It rained continually so that he could not 
 split wood. To make matters worse, he had a 
 young collie puppy which some one had given him. 
 It insisted on being fed and was dainty to the extent 
 of refusing condensed milk at first. But at the end 
 of the week, Morgan found it chewing contentedly 
 on a tiny piece of bacon that had been on the 
 pantry floor ever since he could remember. How- 
 ever, the days until it learned to conquer its fastidi- 
 ousness were very wearing. It would select a note 
 away up in the treble, so shrill that you heard it 
 with the nerves of your spine, and hold it indefinitely, 
 until its master had to go out to preserve his reason. 
 Finally, becoming exhausted, it would lie down in 
 the middle of the floor of some dark room and sleep 
 until Morgan fell over it. The daily strategy was to 
 save some dainty morsel until bedtime, which 
 would keep it quiet until he was able to get to sleep. 
 
 But at length the puppy became interested in the 
 
 227
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 pastime of stalking rats, and after that it ate any- 
 thing it found in a corner. 
 
 It was a Robinson Crusoe sort of an existence. 
 In fact, he read a copy of that book which Alexander 
 had left and got much comfort and encouragement 
 from it. He even saw how if the scarcity of money 
 held out for months, he might patch together 
 squirrel skins and make a fur suit like Robinson 
 Crusoe's. But even that hope, he reflected, was 
 blasted, because it was against the law to shoot 
 squirrels after the first of April. 
 
 On account of the wet weather, he did not finish 
 splitting the cord of wood until the end of the week, 
 and by that time his supply of salt, sugar and coffee, 
 which he had divided into equal portions to last just 
 so many days, ran out. So he lived a day and a 
 half on soda crackers and peanut butter, until he 
 hated the very sight of peanut butter. At noon 
 Saturday, just as he laid the last stick on the cord, 
 the sun came out through the clouds and simultane- 
 ously an angel, disguised in a two-days' growth of 
 beard and rawhide boots, offered him two dollars 
 and a half, as this angel always did, for his wood. 
 And seventeen minutes later, when Morgan came 
 
 into Prince Charles to purchase provisions, he dis- 
 
 228
 
 covered at the post-office a letter from Madeleine, 
 which had been there a week. 
 The letter said : 
 
 " DEAR OLD BOY : 
 
 "Such a time last night. Perfectly ripping 
 gorgeous cotillion at Mrs. F. Somebody Coving- 
 ton's. Pure new people just indecently rich. They 
 buttered on the lavishness until you knew at any 
 minute the servants would come in with baskets of 
 gold pieces and fling them around for people to 
 scramble for. My graft in the way of favors amounted 
 to about a hundred and twenty dollars. I know, be- 
 cause I took the swag bracelets and things to the 
 jewelers and exchanged it for something decent. 
 
 " I turned in as my dear boy was getting up to 
 greet the lark, I suppose. I have an insane desire to 
 see you. I could not help thinking of you last night. 
 And to-day when I awoke, I tore off a screed to my 
 distant cousin (and your dear neighbor) Mrs. Brown, 
 to say I simply couldn't stay away a second longer. 
 
 " So I am coming this very next Saturday and in 
 the evening I shall expect you to hasten to see 
 " Your affectionate Chattel, 
 
 " MADELEINE." 
 
 This was the Saturday, and the evening was not 
 far off. So he bought himself a beefsteak and a pie 
 and some very nutritious canned things to give him- 
 self a debonair well-fed appearance, and hastened 
 
 home with great joy. 
 
 229
 
 CHAPTER XXII 
 
 A MAID took his hat and coat and gloves. A 
 great fire of logs burned in the fireplace. Dim 
 candle-shaped electric globes in sconces spotted the 
 high wooden wainscot and helped the fire cast fine 
 shadows on the beams overhead. A red-shaded 
 reading lamp stood on the long table. He sat 
 down comfortably on a seat by the fireplace. And 
 presently his affectionate chattel appeared. 
 
 Mrs. Brown was with her joyful, good-natured, 
 bubbling over with things to say. Madeleine was 
 dressed in some pale, pink thing which set off 
 beautifully her splendid neck and arms. The first 
 half hour was strange and unbelievable to him, as if 
 the glorious creature there smiling at him were not a 
 real Madeleine ; as if the substantial, two-hundred 
 pound Mrs. Brown were the mere figment of his imagi- 
 nation, the great wainscoted hall and everything in it, 
 including the snub-nosed Pomeranian that investi- 
 gated the hem of his garment, probably smelling 
 
 traces of collie pup, all a mere dream. But when 
 
 230
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 Mrs. Brown, still bursting with conversation unsaid, 
 long-sufferingly denied herself further joy and de- 
 parted, he found that Madeleine was still Madeleine. 
 
 " You haven't kissed me yet," she observed. 
 
 " I hated to discriminate when you both came 
 down." 
 
 She laughed. 
 
 " Imagine what Cousin Emily would have thought 
 had you kissed her" 
 
 " Or," he replied, falling into the spirit of her re- 
 mark, " imagine what I should have thought." 
 
 " Still," she said, " you haven't kissed me. You 
 insist upon having glory thrust upon you." 
 
 " But," he objected, " my year is not up until 
 September." 
 
 " And who," she cried, " is the judge of your 
 year?" 
 
 " It is hard to tell." 
 
 " I am." 
 
 " Then I take it," he said, calmly, " you have de- 
 cided I may have you." 
 
 " Have me ? Why, boy, you have me now. I am 
 all bundled up and addressed." 
 
 He stepped over and lifted her out of her chair. 
 
 " Am I beautiful ? " she cried, well aware of her 
 231
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 wonderful charm. She never lost consciousness of 
 herself. 
 
 He nodded. 
 
 " Then you may have me under one condition, 
 that you go back with me now, to-morrow." 
 
 He shook his head with decision. 
 
 " It is about four months and twenty days before 
 the appointed time," he replied. 
 
 There was an unmistakable firmness about him. 
 Before her will had dominated him, as it dominated 
 others. Now she felt a new force before which she 
 was ineffectual. 
 
 " I don't care a continental," she cried. " Why 
 should I wait?" 
 
 " But I am in the midst," he said, " of making my 
 living. There are things I want to finish. I want 
 to carry through what I have started. I want to end 
 the year with the balance of five or ten thousand 
 dollars that is coming to me for my work on the 
 timber-land. If my syphon works that will be about 
 my share of the profits." 
 
 " Five or ten thousand ! " she exclaimed. " What 
 is that beside your thirty millions ? " 
 
 " I shall have earned the five or ten thousand." 
 
 " Oh, that's piffling, Morgan, dear. All we care 
 232
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 about is your ability to do it. / need you now. 
 Your first duty is to me." 
 
 " But couldn't you wait ? " 
 
 " Not at all. What I wanted to see was whether 
 you were the man that could keep your father's 
 money. And now," she said, " we are going to lead 
 society about by the nose. And the sooner, the 
 quicker." 
 
 " You be the leader of metropolitan society ? " he 
 cried. 
 
 " Why not? We have the edge on every one now. 
 You have the money and I have the energy ; and 
 we both have brains enough to outguess any one 
 else who wants to dominate things." 
 
 " But what's the point ? " 
 
 She drew her arm through his and sat down with 
 him on the ingle seat. 
 
 " Morgan dear, you're stagnating. You are see- 
 ing the world cross-eyed." 
 
 " But I don't see that advantage of this " 
 
 " My dear boy, it was the dream of your father's 
 life, and if your mother hadn't died when you were a 
 baby, they would have accomplished it together." 
 
 The Pomeranian leaped on his lap and curled up 
 with an air of satisfied comfort. 
 
 233
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 " That is a great argument for it, surely," he ad- 
 mitted. 
 
 " Then we will do it." It was not a question, it 
 was a statement. 
 
 " Under one condition," he replied. " I must go to 
 bed every night at half-past eleven." 
 
 She put up her face and kissed him. 
 
 "You dear old sweet country boy!" she cried. 
 "That is just the time you will begin to wake up." 
 
 " Perhaps you can arrange to have a wheeling 
 chair for me, so that I can be pushed off in a corner 
 and allowed to go to sleep." 
 
 " Not at all necessary. I shall have to spend all 
 my time trailing after you to the corner instead to 
 see what other girl you are carrying on an outra- 
 geous flirtation with." 
 
 " It sounds fine 1 " he said, laughing. 
 
 " It is fine. They write books about the shallow- 
 ness of society, but that is only theory. Society is a 
 necessity for people who have been brought up that 
 way. You might just as well talk about the shallow- 
 ness of breathing oxygen." 
 
 He pulled the little Pomeranian's ears, and the 
 animal opened one eye with a companionable air. 
 
 " Morgan," went on the girl, " you can't afford to 
 234
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 take a middle class view of people of your own kind. 
 You were born a gentleman and you always will 
 be a gentleman. You can't live in New York and 
 spend your time going to moving picture shows like 
 clerks and shop people. You will do just what other 
 well-born people do." 
 
 " I still eat with a fork," he said, irrelevantly. 
 
 " That's it," she cried, " and you couldn't get 
 along without your evening clothes. All the things 
 of our life are necessary to you." 
 
 " Some of them, at any rate." 
 
 " I want you to get this, then," she continued ; " if 
 you are going to mix with people of your own class, 
 you might as well be some punkins and tell them 
 how to run things. I want to be boss" 
 
 " Well," he said, at length, " I am sure I shall 
 interpose no objections to any of your ambitions." 
 
 " You are a real pippin," she cried, rising and 
 walking lazily over to the fire, where she held her 
 slim fingers to the blaze. She studied the logs for 
 a moment thoughtfully. 
 
 " And to-morrow," she decided, at length, to say, 
 with the air of one stating a fact that had already 
 been tacitly agreed upon, " we will leave on the 
 afternoon train." 
 
 235
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 She waited breathlessly. He closed his lips. 
 
 " No," he said. " Not to-morrow." 
 
 He was willing to humor her in her ambition at the 
 proper time, when the year was up. But he had no 
 intention of leaving Prince Charles before that time. 
 
 " Well," she said, carelessly, " I can wait over a 
 day." 
 
 " Nor the day after." 
 
 She faced him suddenly. He put down the dog. 
 
 " I am of the opinion," he explained, " that I had 
 better finish out my year." 
 
 She perceived that there was going to be a con- 
 flict between them. It was not that it made any 
 great difference whether he went home now or four 
 months later. It was the fact that she noticed in 
 him a development contrary to her ideas a desire 
 for simplicity rather than for show and for social 
 attainment. His stay in this place had broadened 
 him she could see that the gap between boyhood 
 and manhood had been almost completely bridged. 
 She had an intuitive conviction that he might, if left 
 beyond her sphere of influence much longer, drift 
 completely away from her. And her scheme for 
 their future life depended on her ability to keep both 
 
 hands on the tiller. 
 
 236
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 That he should insist, therefore, on staying here 
 longer irritated her and filled her with uneasiness. 
 And the very fact that she did not seem to be able 
 to prevail as formerly made her lose her grip a 
 little. 
 
 " Morgan," she cried, " have you are you getting 
 interested in this girl you wrote about ? " 
 
 " Not I." 
 
 " Then what is the matter with you ? You started 
 in this year because I asked you. Why can't you 
 end it when I ask you ? " 
 
 He smiled. 
 
 " You mustn't pull the reins too often. Give me 
 my head." 
 
 Tears of vexation stood in her eyes. She saw 
 that she was ineffectual. He was immovable. 
 
 " Morgan, I wouldn't be stubborn." 
 
 " I must be allowed," he asserted firmly, " to 
 decide certain things for myself." 
 
 " And I," she said sharply, " will decide certain 
 things for myself if necessary." 
 
 She walked away from him. 
 
 "I don't know what you mean," he replied, evenly, 
 " but that is certainly your privilege." 
 
 " You do know what I mean. It seems to me 
 237
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 that when a girl says she will marry a man, that is 
 important enough for him to set aside his whims 
 and caprices." 
 
 He closed his lips firmly. 
 
 " I have started out to accomplish something 
 here," he said, patiently. " I have gone through a 
 great many hardships for it, and I don't want to 
 give it up." 
 
 She came back to the fire. 
 
 " Morgan Holt, I will ask you a plain question. 
 Do you want to marry me or not ? " 
 
 He returned her look steadily. 
 
 " My dear Madeleine, that is not a question. It 
 is a threat." 
 
 " I repeat it," she persisted. 
 
 He smiled. 
 
 " The answer is yes," he said. 
 
 She closed both her hands tight. She scarcely 
 thought before she said it. 
 
 " If you want me now, I am all yours. If not, 7 
 cannot wait} 1 
 
 He glanced at her momentarily, and waited for 
 her to say more if she wished. But she stood silent, 
 breathing a little faster. The almost disdainful 
 
 ultimatum in her speech left him but one thing to do. 
 
 238
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 He did not intend to discuss a thing flung at him in 
 that way. Presently he held out his hand. 
 
 " Good-night, Madeleine," he said, very quietly. 
 
 A chill went over her. She would have given 
 everything if she had not pressed it quite so far. 
 But there was no suitable retreat. She took his 
 hand and bidding him good-night, swept by him 
 and up the stairs, tears welling up in her eyes. 
 
 He stood still for a while in exactly the spot she 
 had left him. The little dog sat on the rug before 
 him looking inquiringly up at him. Then he slowly 
 moved over to where his coat lay on the chair and 
 putting it on, let himself out of the house. 
 
 The little Pomeranian dog, puzzled, watched the 
 door through which he had gone, with his head 
 cocked wonderingly on one side. 
 
 239
 
 CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 IT is a trite phrase to say that we never know how 
 much we want the girl until it is apparent that 
 we cannot have her. Morgan was thoroughly up- 
 set. When he got home, he lighted the fire in the 
 living-room fireplace and sat down before it to think 
 the question out. There was nothing, however, to 
 think out. There was the fact. She would not 
 wait. He had the alternative, of either not being 
 present when they began the work in the cypress 
 swamp, made possible by his ideas (which would 
 mean he would have to leave, immediately, his house 
 and his dog and all the things that had been his life 
 in the past seven months), or of not having Made- 
 leine for his wife. If that choice had been put up to 
 him without any attendant circumstances, he would 
 not have hesitated in arriving at his decision. But 
 it was not a question of whether he wanted to stay 
 most or wanted Madeleine most. It was a question 
 of whether, having started on a scheme for his 
 development, he should stop it before it was finished. 
 
 It was a question of whether she was justified in de- 
 
 240
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 manding that he either go back with her to marry 
 her now, or else not at all. She asked too much. 
 Had he not felt that she knew she asked too much, 
 he might perhaps have gone back to her on the fol- 
 lowing day with his bag packed. But it was the 
 fact that she could not but agree with him that he 
 ought to stay, and wished to force him to go in spite 
 of it, that made him firm. And when he kicked 
 out the embers at half-past three on that Sunday 
 morning, he felt that he could not change his deci- 
 sion, even if it cost him a wife. And in this, he was 
 strengthened by what Mrs. Rupert had told him 
 some time before ; that he had only to imagine how 
 he should feel if his own wife were out of sympathy 
 with him and inconsiderate of his wishes, to know 
 how difficult her life was. Was not Madeleine in- 
 considerate and out of sympathy with him now ? 
 Now was the time for her to show consideration and 
 sympathy. If she could not do so before their mar- 
 riage, would she afterward ? All this was very clear 
 in his mind. 
 
 Madeleine, therefore, went back to New York, 
 alone, the following day, and she wrote him no 
 more letters. He felt now as if he were cut off 
 
 entirely from his own world. He began to think of 
 
 241
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 his friends and his old haunts with more regret 
 than at any time during his absence from them. 
 For, previously, he had always been buoyed up by 
 the fact that Madeleine was his. She had never 
 said so, but she had given him every reason for the 
 greatest confidence. But now he had no sheet 
 anchor anywhere. 
 
 He did not feel the same cheerfulness about his 
 work now. He did not turn out early in the morn- 
 ing to take up his hard labor on the oak trees with 
 the same vigor and enthusiasm. He resented, for 
 the first time, the frugality of his meals. For the 
 first time, he found the house lonely, and heard his 
 footsteps echo as he walked through it. In despera- 
 tion, he would make long calls in the evening on 
 John Anderson, and sometimes even on Mr. Peters, 
 after which, walking home through the dark woods 
 to his darker house, he came to hate the life he made 
 himself live. He hated the damp, chill house. He 
 hated the great trees he had thought were so wonder- 
 ful. He even hated the collie puppy. There was 
 no object in his year of exile now. 
 
 One evening he gathered together all the letters 
 Madeleine had written him and, arranging them in 
 
 order, read them all, beginning with the first and 
 
 242
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 ending with the last one she had sent saying she 
 was coming to Mrs. Brown's. It was a morbid, 
 self-punishing undertaking, and only served to re- 
 mind him with cutting force that the sun was no 
 longer shining. And when he had read the last one 
 and realized that it was the last one indeed, he reso- 
 lutely gathered up every letter, envelope and en- 
 closure, and threw them in the blazing fire. 
 
 There was nothing then left to remind him of 
 Madeleine Graham. 
 
 " What's the matter, Morgan ? " cried Perkins, one 
 day. " You look as though you'd swallowed a cat- 
 fish." 
 
 Morgan laughed without any great enthusiasm. 
 
 "If you fellows would get busy and start things 
 moving up here, I would have something to occupy 
 my mind. If you don't, I'll go crazy." 
 
 " What the dickens ! " exclaimed the other. " Say, 
 I often wondered what you were doing in this burg 
 anyway. Seems like the wrong location for you." 
 
 " It's wrong enough just now." 
 
 " I fall to the idea right off," said Perkins. " Used 
 to have a girl just like that myself. Made me so 
 acid you could test me with litmus paper. Finally, 
 I said one day, ' Perky,' I said, ' you're too gloomy. 
 
 243
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 It aggravates her symptoms.' So I turned real 
 cheerful almost funny, you know. I came down to 
 the sunny South and tried the absent treatment on 
 her just to see if she was perfectly sincere, you 
 understand. And when I went back, appearing so 
 excessively happy it looked as if I couldn't hold it 
 all, she weakened. Gave right in and married yours 
 truly about a week later. So I've come to the con- 
 clusion that in going after a girl you've got to play 
 a system." 
 
 Morgan laughed. 
 
 "You've just got to buck up," Perkins went on. 
 " Here's spring coming, leaves on the trees, robins 
 chirping, and you looking like a Masonic funeral. 
 That will never do. What you need is a little trip 
 with me on the company down to the Dismal Swamp, 
 where they're trying an experiment with a full-sized 
 model of this syphon of yours." 
 
 " Where ? " asked Morgan, eagerly. 
 
 " Dismal Swamp. But don't you worry. It's no 
 worse than you are. And they tell me this syphon 
 is working like a charm that is," he added to take 
 the edge off the compliment, " since we have made 
 some eight or nine modifications of the original 
 
 scheme." 
 
 244
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 His companion rose excitedly. 
 
 " When are we going?" he demanded. 
 
 " To-morrow morning. On that side-wheeler 
 dreadnaught that leaves at seven o'clock. Can you 
 get up that soon ? " 
 
 " Get up ! I'll stay up all night." 
 
 They found the syphon was indeed working satis- 
 factorily. They had had to add two or three more 
 valves and an automatic controller for the pump, 
 which started it as soon as enough air had leaked in 
 to destroy the efficiency of the syphon. And, in 
 order to get a greater flow of water, they had made 
 it a triple syphon, all three of the pipes being 
 attached to the same pump, which exhausted them 
 of air at the same time. At this rate, when they 
 had been pumping an hour on the particular pond 
 they were experimenting with, they could see a per- 
 ceptible lowering of the level of the water. The 
 idea was when they had drained all the water out, 
 to close off two of the pipes and the third would 
 take care of new water that ran in. 
 
 The firm in Norfolk were as pleased with the 
 success of this device as he was himself. They had 
 a long talk with him, following the visit to observe 
 
 how it worked, and explained what they were will- 
 
 245
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 ing to do for him. They announced that they were 
 willing to pay him five thousand dollars on the first 
 day of July for his work in making it possible for 
 them to get control of and operate the Prince Charles 
 swamp. Or they were willing to let him take a per- 
 centage of the profits. It was absolutely immaterial 
 to them. They wanted him to be satisfied. 
 
 Of course, he would have preferred to have the 
 real money on the first of July, because after Sep- 
 tember he would be using his own " New York 
 money," as he called it, and the percentage of 
 profits would not be perceptible if added to his in- 
 come at that time. However, the five thousand 
 seemed more like a bribe to him. He did not like 
 the idea of walking off the field just as things were 
 beginning to happen. So he said that he would 
 take a percentage of the profits and see the thing 
 out. 
 
 "In this particular case," he explained, "that is 
 not business. It's just my sporting blood." 
 
 They did not understand, but they laughed. 
 
 " Now," he went on, " you will need to own, or 
 have the use of, land between the swamp and the 
 bay." 
 
 " We thought that would come later." 
 
 246
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 " I mention it," said Morgan, " because I own 
 enough land to take you half-way." 
 
 " Oh, in that case, we shall, of course, pay you for 
 the privilege of crossing your land with our pipes," 
 said the senior member of the firm. " In fact, we 
 had better have a contract drawn right now, allow- 
 ing you a certain percentage of profits and a reason- 
 able rate for the use of your ground." 
 
 A stenographer was called in, and the terms of the 
 contract dictated to her. Morgan interrupted at one 
 place, with an almost mischievous smile. 
 
 " In regard to this water you are piping across my 
 ground, I should like to have the privilege of tapping 
 the pipe and using what I need of it." 
 
 He had been giving this matter some thought 
 since he had seen the syphon working. 
 
 " Of course," said the senior partner, hurriedly, 
 and dictated : " and said party of second part shall 
 have privilege of tapping in and using as much as he 
 shall desire of water thus piped across said land. 
 Satisfactory ? " 
 
 The young man nodded. 
 
 The contract was signed and witnessed. Morgan 
 began to feel very comfortable, and when Perkins, 
 
 who had not been in the room while the document 
 
 247
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 was being drawn up, at length came marching in 
 with his hands in his pockets, whistling softly his 
 verson of the Spring Song, the former began to 
 laugh. Perkins, as quick as a flash, picked up the 
 contract. 
 
 " What do you want that water for ? " he de- 
 manded, suspiciously. 
 
 " Power." 
 
 Perkins gazed at him with pursed lips. 
 
 " Bonehead ! bonehead ! " he exploded, and ad- 
 ministered a kick upon his left leg with his right in 
 his most approved comedy manner. He turned to 
 the senior member. 
 
 " He has a twenty-foot head of water there," he 
 exclaimed. 
 
 " But doubtless," put in Morgan, reassuringly, " a 
 very slow stream after the bulk of the water has been 
 drained. I hope to have enough to run a dynamo 
 to give me electric lights in the house." 
 
 Perkins sank into a chair. 
 
 "Say, you'll be a millionaire some day," he ex 
 claimed. 
 
 " That's what I'm dreading," said Morgan. 
 
 This was considered a very good piece of humor, 
 
 and they all laughed pleasantly. 
 
 248
 
 CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 MR. RUPERT'S brokers were calling on him for 
 more margin. The cashier had bought rather 
 heavily in Pacific Steel, because of information he 
 had been able to obtain, through a good source, that 
 a larger dividend was to be declared in the fall. At 
 present, manipulators, who were also perhaps aware 
 of the proposed extra dividend, were hammering the 
 stock down to buy in as low as possible ; and Rupert 
 was having a hard time not to be frozen out. He 
 needed every cent of money he could get. Now was 
 no time to think of redeeming bond issues of the 
 cypress company, so he sent for Perkins to learn his 
 terms. 
 
 Perkins had him in a corner. If all the first-mort- 
 gage bonds were presented on the first of May, as 
 they would be without a doubt, he should have to 
 have more than thirty thousand dollars to redeem 
 them, and he had no such sum. He (and this means 
 the Prince Charles Cypress Company) had never in- 
 tended to have such a sum. They had expected to 
 
 have redeemed the issue, not with cash, but with the 
 
 249
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 worthless second-mortgage bonds ; and now that the 
 Norfolk company had prevented this, they had the 
 choice of either giving up thirty thousand dollars or 
 paying the former company a lesser sum to accept 
 the title to the swamp land, and with it the responsi- 
 bility for the bonds. It was only a question of how 
 much money they would have to pay to do this. 
 
 It is a credit to Mr. Rupert's unhuman mental 
 calm that he wriggled out of the situation at an ex- 
 pense of eight thousand dollars. Perkins would 
 willingly have taken the whole thing over for not 
 one cent, as they expected to get large returns from 
 the timber ; and he would not, therefore, press Mr. 
 Rupert as hard as he might have wished to, because 
 he actually feared that the latter might decide to 
 pay for the bonds and retain possession of the land. 
 He was, therefore, not a little relieved when the deed 
 was made out transferring the land to his company. 
 
 " And now," beamed Mr. Rupert, with bland self- 
 possession, " since the entente cordiale between us is 
 so pronounced, I shall be more than happy to give 
 you my own personal note for eight thousand dol- 
 lars. This is the same as a government bond," he 
 added, smiling. 
 
 Perkins laughed. Since the cashier was rated at 
 
 250
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 much more than that sum of money, there was no 
 question about accepting the note. The arrange- 
 ments all completed, the former returned to Norfolk 
 to make arrangements to begin work immediately 
 on the cypress. 
 
 Rupert paid the other men in the Prince Charles 
 Cypress Company, now dissolved, their share of the 
 surplus with his own personal note. These notes, 
 as well as the one he had given Perkins, were pay- 
 able October first, after the dividend on Pacific Steel 
 would have been declared, and he would be able to 
 sell out and make the " killing " he had been wait- 
 ing for for years. All the cash that should have been 
 in the treasury of the Prince Charles Cypress Com- 
 pany had been invested in steel stock. Rupert's 
 indebtedness, including the notes just given and the 
 money borrowed to cover the drop in his stock, was 
 more than fifty thousand dollars. His interest on 
 this sum of money, together with the interest he was 
 paying on stock purchased on margin, was an 
 enormous sum three or four times his income. 
 The bank cashier was skating on thin ice skating 
 placidly, however for he stood to make anywhere 
 from five hundred thousand to a million dollars in 
 
 the fall, when the dividend on Pacific Steel was 
 
 251
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 declared. His confidence was supreme. He had 
 reliable information, and he was accustomed to rely- 
 ing on his own convictions. 
 
 No one would have guessed, from his unruffled 
 bearing, that his footing was at all insecure. In 
 fact, he scarcely noticed it himself. He did breathe 
 a little easier when the stock stood still during May 
 and the early part of June ; and when, at the end of 
 June, the news of the coming increased dividend 
 began to be generally known and the stock went 
 slowly upward, he was more than usually jubilant, 
 but that was only the excitement of the game. 
 
 When the first of July came it was not necessary 
 for Perkins to make good his promise to return the 
 bonds if work had not been begun on the cypress. 
 By that time the triple syphon had been installed 
 and was in perfect running order. One pipe of the 
 syphon ran continually with sufficient head of water 
 to run an electric dynamo, which generated electricity 
 enough to run an endless belt like an escalator, which 
 bore the logs out of the swamp and over the crest of 
 the hill, from which place they were hauled by 
 wagon down to the shore. Morgan, by reason of 
 his right to the water power, was paid a certain sum 
 
 for every log that was lifted by the escalator. It 
 
 252
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 would have been better to say he was to be paid, for 
 he had received but little money as yet, since the 
 plant had not been long in operation. 
 
 The whole thing was a wonder and a source of 
 joy to the community. They flocked out in great 
 numbers to see Prince Charles at last alive with a 
 real industry, like other progressive cities; to see 
 the water being sucked out of the swamp by some 
 unseen agency ; to discover with wonder that when 
 they thought they had found, in the dynamo, the 
 engine that moved the water, it was the other way 
 round and the water moved the engine ; to see old 
 Alexander Berry's house lighted by electricity, with 
 an electric stove and other electric devices (presents 
 to Morgan from the lumber company) in perfect 
 running order. It seemed as if wonders would 
 never cease. 
 
 Mrs. Rupert herself could not resist the general 
 temptation to come and see the unbelievable things. 
 She found Morgan more enthusiastic than any of 
 the people who came to see the operations. 
 
 " You look so young ! " she cried. 
 
 " I am bubbling over," he admitted. " The more 
 I see of this thing the more entertained I am. Feel 
 as if I'd done something at last." 
 
 253
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 " I want to see it quick," she said. 
 
 He showed it to her. He explained the things to 
 her. It was as interesting as a fairy story not be- 
 cause the pipes and machines and oily mechanisms 
 were interesting, but because here was unlimited 
 power furnished, not by man stoking complicated 
 engines, but by the unsupervised forces of nature 
 turne^ loose at the proper point and in the proper 
 manner. Every one could have gone off and left the 
 plant, and it would have kept on operating just like 
 the rising and setting of the sun, limited only in the 
 length of its operations by the length of time the 
 lubricating oil held out. 
 
 " It is very wonderful," she said, " but I think you 
 are more so." 
 
 He shook his head. 
 
 "I'm just theory," he returned. "These other 
 fellows are the engineers. They work out things." 
 He laughed. " If this thing stopped running I 
 couldn't start it again." 
 
 " I don't believe that. Mr. Rupert says you have 
 an unusually accurate brain, and you are going to be 
 a millionaire some day." 
 
 " Having an accurate brain," he replied, " seems 
 
 to have its drawbacks." 
 
 254
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 She laughed. 
 
 " Oh ! " he exclaimed, " I want you to see the 
 electric chafing-dish." 
 
 " Thank you," she said pleasantly, " I am hungry." 
 
 He started with her toward the house. 
 
 " We can cook a whole meal on electric things, 
 chafing-dish, toaster, percolator. Let's do it." 
 
 She hesitated. 
 
 " No," she replied, smiling, " not again." 
 
 " Oh, then what's the use of having them ? " he 
 said, disappointed. 
 
 " To show to me, foolish. Lead on. 
 
 "This is a very grand equipment for the old 
 house," she said, when they were inside, and she saw 
 the electric lights. 
 
 " It is indeed. The poor old house can't live up 
 to it." 
 
 She gazed about her thoughtfully, and walked 
 about through the rooms on the first floor. 
 
 " If you were going to stay here," she said, at last, 
 " you might, without straining this apparently large 
 income you will get from the cypress, remodel the 
 house. You could throw the living-room and dining- 
 room into one great room with a fireplace at each 
 end. The present kitchen and pantry would be the 
 
 255
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 dining-room, the present down-stairs bedroom a 
 library. You could open that stairway to come 
 right down into the hall." 
 
 He looked the situation over. 
 
 " Wouldn't that be glorious ? " he said, " and you 
 could have the white balusters with a mahogany rail 
 and a colonial spiral newel at the bottom that you 
 could sit on," he added, smiling. 
 
 She walked to the kitchen door. 
 
 " Right off there," she went on thoughtfully, 
 " would be the kitchen wing. And I hope you would 
 have a tile floor and tile walls, and a big ventilating 
 hood over the stove to carry off all the odors." 
 
 " I most certainly should. And every Saturday 
 morning I'd have it washed out with a hose." 
 
 "Thursday, or Friday, would be a better day," 
 corrected the housewife, " but the principle is the 
 same. And what a wonderful pantry one could 
 have if it were really made right." 
 
 He shook his head. 
 
 " You're spending too much time on the machinery 
 part of the house," he said. " You were just begin- 
 ning to think of a place for the barrel of flour and a 
 place for the can of lard." 
 
 " Wasn't I, indeed. And we hadn't decided at all 
 
 256
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 on the red tiles for the fireplaces and high unpaneled 
 wainscot for the walls." 
 
 " And for a chandelier," he said slowly. " I shoujd 
 want to take the great pair of moose antlers in the 
 attic, and hang them by iron chains from the ceiling 
 to support two rows of electric light bulbs each shaped 
 like a candle." 
 
 " There would be a porch at this side on a level 
 with the ground, paved with brick. And the bath- 
 rooms." She smiled at the jump her mind had 
 taken. " The three bath-rooms are to have cork 
 tile floors, which aren't so torturing cold. Can you 
 imagine such a wonderfully beautiful house as could 
 be made out of this unpromising beginning ? " 
 
 " No, indeed. I shall never dare to think of it 
 again." 
 
 " Why ? " she asked, surprised. 
 
 " Because I shall never build it." 
 
 " There is no reason why you shouldn't." 
 
 " If I go to New York," he said, unconsciously 
 quoting, " I shall have to do just what other people 
 of my my own class do. I must live the same life 
 the others live, or it will be impossible for me to en- 
 dure existence at all. And those people would never 
 see the charm of this old place as I have learned to 
 
 257
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 see it. I don't think I could stand them ridiculing 
 it. I should rather have a pleasant picture of it in 
 my mind." 
 
 " Will you," she asked, " carry away a pleasant 
 picture ? "' 
 
 " I think so," he returned, slowly, " of every- 
 thing." 
 
 " Everything," she said, reflectively. 
 
 He smiled. 
 
 " Everybody." 
 
 She laughed, and, holding out her hand, ran 
 quickly down the steps. 
 
 258
 
 CHAPTER XXV 
 
 JULY and August were hot, happy months that 
 passed very quickly. The two young men who 
 were running the operations in the swamp lived with 
 Morgan in his house, and Perkins, who came up 
 periodically (with a lot of talk to the effect that this 
 was the slowest operation he ever had seen, any- 
 way, and why didn't they get busy with a capital B 
 and let the company realize a little more than sixty 
 per cent, on their investment), would stay a day or 
 two longer than was absolutely necessary to cool off 
 his blood. Norfolk was a trifle hard on his nerves 
 in summero He felt as if he had a fever all the time, 
 believe him. Very fond of the hot bread, gentle- 
 men, but deliver him from the hot nights. A little 
 vacation with old scout Morgan, sitting in the midst of 
 a circle of electric fans, made him feel like a new man 
 One Saturday morning when a log came up the 
 escalator sideways, and broke things up generally so 
 that operations had to be stopped for the day, they 
 turned the whole force of men loose on a little spot 
 
 of cleared land behind Morgan's house. They 
 
 259
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 hauled sand and gravel, and rolled and leveled the 
 ground to a quarter of an inch by the surveyor's in- 
 strument ; and by nightfall had an extraordinarily 
 good beginning for a tennis court. They sprinkled it 
 and rolled it every night for a week, and in the end 
 it turned out to be a very fine affair. Every evening 
 thereafter they played there until the sun had sunk 
 behind the trees of the swamp, and dark grew so 
 thick they could scarcely see the balls. When 
 Perkins came he would stretch out in a steamer chair 
 by the side-lines, and comment caustically on the 
 ability of the contestants. When he felt it was din- 
 ner time he would step out on the court with a com- 
 manding air and take down the net. Thus the 
 summer and the early part of September passed 
 pleasantly, and one day, Perkins, newly arrived on 
 the side-wheeler from Norfolk, burst in upon them 
 and exploded the bomb that seemed to set a period 
 to it all. 
 
 " You're the scoundrel ! " he cried, shaking in 
 Morgan's face what appeared to be the illustrated 
 supplement of a Sunday newspaper. " Trying to put 
 one over on us all the time. Never heard of such 
 four-flushing in all my life. And we trusted you like 
 a brother." 
 
 260
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 He sat down and fanned himself with the paper. 
 
 " What's the matter ? " asked Morgan. 
 
 Perkins tossed him the newspaper. 
 
 " Read that ! " he exclaimed. " Keep yourself in- 
 formed. Follow the events of the day." 
 
 The other two rose to have a look at the sheet too. 
 The head-lines said : 
 
 WHERE Is MORGAN HOLT? 
 
 Young Millionaire Mysteriously Missing 
 Last heard of as passenger 
 on boat from Baltimore 
 to Norfolk. Probable that 
 he never reached Norfolk. 
 
 The article went on to say that nearly a year be- 
 fore the young "multimillionaire" who had come 
 into his money had suddenly disappeared without 
 having previously announced to any one that he in- 
 tended to go away. It had been given out that poor 
 health had compelled him to seek change of air in 
 Europe ; and malicious gossip had at one time inti- 
 mated that he was a changling, and not entitled to 
 his inheritance. While this gossip had subsided, so- 
 ciety in general had not understood his disappear- 
 ance, which was generally looked upon as rather an 
 
 extraordinary proceeding. This view was im- 
 
 261
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 measurably heightened when it was discovered (of 
 course by a representative of that particular news- 
 paper) that Morgan Holt had not sailed for Europe at 
 all, but when last heard of had been a passenger on 
 a steamer for Norfolk. He seemed never to have 
 landed in that town, and employees of the steamship 
 company remembered finding his baggage and over- 
 coat in his stateroom, which were later, in response 
 to a telegram, expressed to his home in New York. 
 
 They made a very delectable story of it. A sketch 
 of his life and the career of his father, together with 
 an estimate as to the probable amount of the fortune, 
 followed. Added to this was a column of conjecture 
 as to what had happened, with information as to 
 which persons would receive the money in case Mor- 
 gan Holt were now dead. In the very center of the 
 page was a photograph that young man remembered 
 a cousin of his had snapped one afternoon during the 
 tennis tournament, the only good portrait of himself 
 he had ever seen. 
 
 "Do you suppose the poor fellow can be dead?" 
 asked Morgan, sympathetically, when he had read 
 the article. 
 
 Perkins rose. 
 
 " Cut it out ! " he exclaimed. " You can't pull 
 262
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 that bluff any more. The beans are spilled, I tell 
 you. Look at that picture. Speaking likeness. I 
 can hear it all the way over here." 
 
 " Sit down and have dinner with us, Perkins," 
 returned the young man. 
 
 " Thanks, very much." He set a place at the 
 table for himself. " The reason I bought this paper 
 was because the date this Morgan Holt fellow sailed 
 from Baltimore was September 28th, and the date 
 that the chap over there named Henry Morgan 
 registered at the Prince Charles Tavern, after having 
 swum ashore (presumably from Europe or the coast 
 of Africa, and not the Baltimore boat), was Sep- 
 tember 29th. Add to that that his watch is engraved 
 with the initials ' M. H.,' and he looks like this 
 picture in the paper, and I think you have a very 
 interesting series of pure coincidences pure and 
 simple coincidences. Nothing to it, of course. Just 
 coincidences." 
 
 Morgan laughed. 
 
 " Of course," he said quietly, " I'm Morgan Holt. 
 Didn't you know that ? " he added, naively. 
 
 Perkins gazed at him malevolently. 
 
 "That will be about all of that," he decided. 
 
 " Tell us about it." 
 
 263
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 " Just a stunt. Incognito for a year. Chance to 
 see some other phase of life." 
 
 He answered their questions freely, but said noth- 
 ing about Madeleine Graham. They all gazed at 
 him spellbound. 
 
 " And, to get down to vulgar details," said 
 Perkins, " how much are you worth ? " 
 
 " It's an incredible sum thirty millions or more." 
 
 " Great grab ! " cried the other. 
 
 The idea was as incomprehensible to the three 
 men as it was to Morgan himself. Thirty millions ! 
 Morgan had so revised his ideas as to sums of 
 money, since he had been earning it, that thirty 
 dollars seemed a large amount. Thirty millions was 
 inconceivable like infinity. It gave him a sense of 
 unpleasant dizziness to think about it the same 
 feeling he would have had in looking down from the 
 top of a high building so high that it appeared im- 
 possible that such a building could ever have been 
 built. 
 
 He was not disturbed that his identity had been 
 discovered. He realized that, as soon as Perkins 
 sent his telegram to Norfolk telling the firm who he 
 was, every one in Prince Charles would know it. 
 
 But they had to know it soon, anyway. In two 
 
 264
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 weeks his year was up, and he should return 
 to his home and money and friends. At that 
 time the news of his identity would become public 
 property. He was nervous about the notoriety of 
 it. Having been simply an ordinary citizen, com- 
 ing and going unnoticed, he shrank from stepping 
 out on the center of the stage, as he must when he 
 returned to " his own." However, he wrote a letter 
 to Mr. Cogshell, his lawyer, directing him to make a 
 statement in regard to his whereabouts, and resigned 
 himself to his fate. 
 
 The news spread over the countryside like wild- 
 fire. He awoke one morning to find himself un- 
 pleasantly famous. The seclusion of the old house 
 gave way to a pageant of curious and congratula- 
 tory people. Every one for miles around called 
 upon him. His afternoons were a series of recep- 
 tions. The poor old place was transformed. Gay, 
 bubbling maidens, in bright, frivolous clothes, 
 crowded the porches, the shady spots under the 
 great trees, the borders of the tennis court. All 
 the young men, scenting revelry from afar, tore 
 themselves from their several tasks and tagged after 
 the frivolous gowns. Mothers sat in easy chairs, as 
 
 far as the limited number of easy chairs would go. 
 
 265
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 Morgan's bill for oranges, lemons, indigestible cakes 
 and the like was very large. In a word, he per- 
 ceived that he had become a public personage. 
 
 He was not enthusiastic over the change. It was 
 with no feeling of joy that he looked forward to his 
 return home to pomp and circumstance. He had 
 been away from it so long that it scarcely seemed as 
 if he had ever really led such a life. Had it been a 
 return to Madeleine, it would have been different. 
 But how unlike the return he had looked forward to 
 a year ago was the actual one he was now to make. 
 He had succeeded in his venture, to be sure, beyond 
 his fondest hopes, but the reward had been with- 
 drawn. The person he cared more for than all the 
 others by a hundredfold would not be among 
 those to welcome him. 
 
 At least this is what he thought for one unsettled, 
 unsatisfactory week. Then suddenly, to his great 
 surprise, he found one day among his mail a letter 
 in a familiar handwriting (the first in four months) 
 addressed to " Morgan Holt, care of Henry Morgan, 
 Prince Charles." He tore it open. It read : 
 
 " DEAR BOY : 
 
 " As if nothing had happened, you see. I have 
 been punishing myself ever since. I was wrong, 
 
 266
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 all wrong. I put myself in your hands. It would 
 serve me right if you would have nothing to do with 
 me now. 
 
 " Contritely, 
 
 " MADELEINE." 
 
 Morgan read it again. He gave the telegraph 
 boy a dollar to send her this telegram : 
 " Coming on the twenty-fifth." 
 
 267
 
 CHAPTER XXVI 
 
 ^EPTEMBER twenty-fourth. Early afternoon at 
 *-} the old house once Alexander Berry's. Half- 
 grown collie pup frisking about, ignorant that title 
 to his person had just been made over to one of the 
 men in charge of the cypress operation. Trunk 
 packed and ready on the front porch. Shutters 
 closed in the second-story rooms, padlocks on the 
 new pump house, with its electric motor within, and 
 on the other heterogeneous surrounding structures ; 
 chairs taken in from the lawn and porch, and gen- 
 eral blank air of desolation pervading. Motor car 
 entering the lane, in which were Mr. and Mrs. Joseph 
 Rupert coming to call. 
 
 This was the picture that Morgan Holt saw, 
 standing for almost the last time on his front porch, 
 looking at the last red sunset behind the trees. He 
 knew the Ruperts were coming. Mr. Rupert, de- 
 ciding easily that since Morgan was so much of a 
 personage, it might be well to be gracious, had 
 
 called up the young man on the telephone and 
 
 268
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 pleasantly suggested that he and Mrs. Rupert stop 
 for a minute to bid him good-bye. 
 
 Had it not been for Mrs. Rupert, Morgan would 
 have been tempted to make some excuse, but as 
 Mrs. Rupert had been included, he had urged them 
 to come. He understood the bank cashier's motive, 
 in the main. That gentleman considered it in- 
 advisable to have any misunderstanding existing 
 between him and persons of importance, and he 
 could, with his calm self-possession, outwardly patch 
 up any bad feeling by simply seeming to forget it 
 and saying nothing about it. 
 
 " Can't get out," cried Rupert, holding out his 
 chubby, well groomed hand. " Just came to God- 
 speed the sojourner in our midst." 
 
 His wife leaned forward. 
 
 " It has been almost a year," she said, " since we 
 found you on the beach." 
 
 " A very wonderful year for me," he said, gravely. 
 " I can hardly make up my mind to go back." 
 
 " Don't go," she exclaimed, quickly. 
 
 " The gentleman is rich," explained her husband. 
 " Rich people live in New York. He must also live 
 there, or Providence would take his money away 
 
 from him." 
 
 269
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 Mrs. Rupert adjusted her veil. 
 
 " I don't want Providence to take his money 
 away, but I am very sorry he has to go." 
 
 " I've been blue all day about it," he re- 
 plied. 
 
 She laughed. 
 
 " Stay here ! " she said. " Disappoint the " she 
 stopped " the people up there," she ended. 
 
 Mr. Rupert looked interested. 
 
 " You could build an ancestral hall right here," 
 he observed, " you, of course, being the ancestor. 
 Tudor houses are being used extensively this year 
 for ancestral halls. Don't you know, little diamond 
 paned windows, stone tracery, and so forth. Some- 
 thing very elegant and distingue could be con- 
 structed here by a person desiring to be an ancestor. 
 Don't you think so ? " 
 
 " I think I like the idea of remodeling the present 
 house better." 
 
 Mrs. Rupert clapped her hands. 
 
 " True ! " she cried. " That's my idea." 
 
 It was indeed her idea. 
 
 " My wife differs from me in public," observed Mr. 
 Rupert. " I cannot teach her always to agree with 
 
 me when others are present. We must go. Good- 
 
 270
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 bye, Holt," he said, genially. " If at any time again 
 you feel an irresistible desire to be washed up by 
 the sea, let me know and I will meet you with my 
 entire wardrobe." 
 
 The young man thanked him. Mrs. Rupert 
 stepped quickly out of the automobile. The 
 chauffeur started back toward the house to turn. 
 Her husband remained seated. 
 
 "I had to get out and show you the proper re- 
 spect. Good-bye ; I shall miss you." 
 
 He took her hand. 
 
 " Thank you. Good-bye." 
 
 " You go on the stage this evening ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 Somehow the occasion was not pleasant. He felt 
 as if he were saying good-bye to some one he should 
 not see again. 
 
 "And the girl ? " she asked, in a low tone. 
 
 " It is all right. She wrote asking me to come 
 back." 
 
 " I see. I'm very glad." 
 
 The machine came back. 
 
 " Good-bye." 
 
 " Good-bye." 
 
 He helped her in. She waved her hand. Mr. 
 271
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 Rupert bowed. They swept by and left him stand- 
 ing before the house. 
 
 She still had that picture of him, standing before 
 the house in the light of the setting sun, waving his 
 hand to her. When she next drove by the house, it 
 would be still and quiet ; and he would not run out to 
 wave his hand to her. If he had given her his dog ! 
 Why had she not asked him for the dog, the frisking 
 collie puppy ? Why should the man who bossed 
 the cypress cutting have the dog? 
 
 She said nothing on the way home, but sat close 
 to her side of the car, leaving a clear space of seat 
 between her and the man beside her. And he, deep 
 in his prospects of prosperity, now that the extra 
 dividend on Pacific Steel seemed all but assured, paid 
 no attention to her. She looked at her watch. It 
 was half-past four. In an hour the stage left. It 
 would seem worse when the stage had gone. 
 
 Quarter to five by the clock in the hall of her own 
 house as she passed through. She went to the 
 kitchen and gave sundry trifling directions for the 
 dinner just as if this were an ordinary day and it 
 made any difference about the dinner. In the hall 
 were two bills. She took them up-stairs to her room, 
 
 and sitting down at the little desk there drew two 
 
 272
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 checks for the proper amounts, enclosed them and 
 directed the envelopes. She wiped her pen and 
 closed the desk. 
 
 Quarter-past five by the little French clock on her 
 dressing table. She stood by her window overlook- 
 ing the darkening road. It was a light ribbon be- 
 tween the green fields. She could see a hundred 
 yards either way on it. Beyond, the wide bay 
 stretched away indefinitely. There were fifteen 
 minutes more. She would make the most of them. 
 The clock ticked on. She heard the rattle of horses' 
 hoofs in the distance, long before the crazy old stage 
 came in sight. And presently it seemed as if it 
 could not really be it emerged from behind the 
 pines, swinging slowly along, the reins about the 
 whip and the driver lighting his pipe. Her eyes did 
 not leave it from the time she first saw it until it dis- 
 appeared again behind the trees at the far end of the 
 road. She did not move until the footfalls had died 
 entirely away in the distance. And then, hands 
 clenched, she threw herself face downward on the 
 bed. 
 
 Quarter of six by the little French clock. 
 
 273
 
 CHAPTER XXVII 
 
 next day was chill and raw. A fine drizzle 
 -i- fell on the metropolitan streets. Morgan looked 
 at the lines of taxicabs as if he had no idea of their 
 use, and stepping out into the damp streets, walked 
 home, carrying his bag. 
 
 He had accomplished everything he had set out 
 to accomplish. He had earned his living and 
 more for one year. He had proved his ability to 
 accomplish things without the aid of his father's 
 money or his own position as a rich man. He had 
 won the girl he wanted. Nothing more could be 
 desired. 
 
 He shivered uncomfortably as he nodded to the 
 man who opened his own front door for him. He 
 had rather hoped it would be the old servant, but, as 
 Cogshell had closed the house during the year, and 
 had only opened it as the time for his return drew 
 near, the old servants were not available. He had 
 hoped that a fine fire of logs would be burning in 
 the hall fireplace, but it was bare and cold, and 
 
 brushed clean. The hall, always dark, smelt close 
 
 274
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 and musty. He pressed the button of the electric 
 elevator. 
 
 " Elevator is not working, sir," said the man. " It 
 is to be fixed to-day." 
 
 He walked up the double staircase. Everything 
 throughout the house was scrupulously clean and in 
 order. Not a book or magazine or paper lay about 
 anywhere. The furniture was placed with studied 
 care, each piece with some geometric relation to the 
 others, and gave no illusion of having been used at 
 any time. It would have been fitting to have had 
 each room roped off with a silk cord as they do in 
 the state apartments of castles and executive man- 
 sions on view to the public. 
 
 He was glad he could assure himself that his year 
 had been so successful, or the unhuman aspect of the 
 house would have made him very dismal. It was 
 not like home. It had more the aspect of having 
 been some one else's home some time before. In- 
 deed, that was quite the truth, for it was a changed 
 Morgan Holt who returned to it, although he did not 
 fully realize it. 
 
 The news of his arrival brought forth the butler 
 and the housekeeper. These were the old ones, 
 
 which fact cheered him considerably. A fine bath, 
 
 275
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 clean clothes and a good breakfast further warmed 
 his heart. He was rather at a loss as to what to do 
 with his time. They told him his electric was in 
 readiness for him, and that the big touring car was 
 also in shape, but he decided to walk. At the door 
 the man handed him his gloves and stick. He 
 looked at them with some curiosity, shook his head, 
 and went out without them. He walked in the park 
 like an ordinary individual. 
 
 About noon he returned and called up Madeleine. 
 She had gone out, but had left word that she could 
 see him at four o'clock. The news of his arrival had 
 spread. There had been many telephone calls for 
 him. Mr. Cogshell, the lawyer, had called up four 
 times during the morning. Morgan called him up 
 and found he had gone out. His secretary said there 
 was extremely important business. 
 
 In the afternoon he walked down Fifth Avenue 
 looking in the shop-windows. He forgot entirely to 
 be aware of the people around him on the street, un- 
 til, after about half an hour, he found he was attract- 
 ing considerable attention. People in vehicles were 
 endeavoring to bow to him. He spoke to a host of 
 people, with faces dimly familiar, and wondered who 
 
 they were. Sometimes a car drew up to the curb, 
 
 276
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 and he found himself saying purposeless things, 
 which he recognized as an inferior brand of " small 
 talk." 
 
 Back at the house again, he hesitated for a mo- 
 ment over a braided cutaway coat the valet had laid 
 out for him. To the latter's surprise, however, he 
 decided against it, and put on a suit of homespun. 
 
 " I had Burley's send up some of these new scarfs, 
 sir," said the man. " Very English, sir. They are 
 being worn." 
 
 " How do you tie 'em ? " 
 
 " I can show you the idea, sir." 
 
 The man made two dexterous turns with the silk, 
 and slid the knot in place. Morgan shook his head. 
 
 " Too advanced, Jordan. Get me an old standby. 
 Something suitable for a man of fifty." 
 
 The man's face fell. 
 
 " I thought it suited you well, sir." 
 
 " I'll let you bring me up to date later on," the 
 young man said, " but we must go slowly." 
 
 Before he went to Madeleine's, Mr. Cogshell called 
 up again. He endeavored to get Morgan to come 
 to see him immediately, as the business was of 
 " paramount importance." He seemed to be rather 
 
 agitated, but the young man said it would be impos- 
 
 277
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 sible until the next day. They made arrangements 
 for a meeting the very first thing in the morning. 
 
 Morgan was greeted at the Grahams' by Made- 
 leine's father. 
 
 " Congratulations, my boy," he said, in his exag- 
 gerated manner. " Your name is on every one's 
 lips. Every one's, b' George ! Welcome back." 
 
 The other thanked him. 
 
 " You are the most important man in New York. 
 I always said, sir, that every rich young man, every 
 one of 'em, ought to go away for a year. Ought to 
 have done it myself, by gad." 
 
 " I do not regret it," Morgan returned. 
 
 Madeleine entered. Her father presently retired. 
 She walked close up to Morgan and looked at him, 
 half smiling. 
 
 " What are you going to do with me ? " she de- 
 manded. 
 
 " Keep you," he said. 
 
 " If you hadn't been so everlastingly hard-headed 
 last spring," she said, " we might have had a basis 
 of understanding. I see I am going to have a hard 
 time with you." 
 
 She smiled. 
 
 " Well," he returned, " we'll have to get adjusted 
 
 278
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 Coming back to this life is like learning a new lan- 
 guage. If you'll be patient with me, I think, in time, 
 I shall give entire satisfaction." 
 
 She put both her hands on his shoulders. 
 
 " Patient with you ! I think you are perfect. Do 
 you suppose I would have humbled myself in the 
 dust for any other man ? " 
 
 " Do you still," he said, " have the same am- 
 bition?'' 
 
 " A thousand times ! " she cried. " The symptoms 
 are aggravated. You yourself, by all this newspaper 
 notoriety, have got yourself so gloriously in the lime- 
 light that the game is half-way won already." 
 
 " Oh, I myself have been helping ? " 
 
 " Like a Trojan. And now I want you to kiss 
 me customary thing, you know and sit down 
 here by me and talk real business." 
 
 He did the first of these accurately and neatly, 
 and sat beside her. 
 
 " As a love-maker, Morgan," she cried, " you are 
 a prize impetuous and irresistible. As soon as 
 you are told to kiss a girl, you do it." 
 
 He laughed. 
 
 " I didn't mean to wait to be told." 
 
 " And now for the business." She took his hand 
 279
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 and touched his first finger. " The first thing is the 
 announcement of the engagement. Mother wishes 
 to announce it on the first of October. Will that be 
 satisfactory ? " 
 
 " Yes," he said, a little bewildered at this business- 
 like promptness, " I suppose the sooner we get it 
 over with what I mean is," he corrected, hastily, 
 "what is the use of delaying? " 
 
 " My idea exactly," she cried. 
 
 She ticked off on the second finger. 
 
 " Point number two the wedding. What are 
 your ideas about it ? " 
 
 "Oh," he said, "church wedding, middle of the 
 day, big bridal party all those things. The people 
 expect it." 
 
 " I mean, when ? " 
 
 He hesitated. 
 
 " Why," he returned, rather overwhelmed by the 
 definiteness of things, " not more than a year, 1 
 should say. How about June ? " 
 
 She laughed. 
 
 " Oh, you hasty thing ! I was thinking of the 
 day before Thanksgiving." 
 
 " By all means ! " he exclaimed. " The day be- 
 fore Thanksgiving. Why didn't I think of it?" 
 
 280
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 She put her finger on his mouth. 
 
 " If you don't stop this chaffing," she said, severely, 
 " I'll elope with you." 
 
 He became serious. 
 
 " Go on," he said. " We have decided on the 
 day before Thanksgiving." 
 
 " That's all just now, then," she returned. " The 
 details we can take up later. We just want to 
 know how much time we have. Two months is a 
 most awfully short space. I hate to think of getting 
 ready in that time." 
 
 " It sounds very hard," he said, vaguely. 
 
 She looked at him closely. 
 
 " Do you know," she said, thoughtfully, " you do 
 not sound very glad about this." 
 
 He closed his lips firmly. 
 
 " My dear girl," he exclaimed, " if I didn't want to 
 marry you, I shouldn't have asked you. A year ago 
 I said I wanted to, and you promised, in a way, you 
 would, if I made good in my effort to make my own 
 living. I did make good. You were what I was 
 working for. You are the only girl among all 
 these people here I care a straw about. I couldn't 
 live here in New York without you. I am entirely 
 
 satisfied." 
 
 281
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 "You are satisfied, of course, but are you glad, 
 overjoyed ? " 
 
 He turned to her smiling. 
 
 "What a prober you are," he replied, easily. 
 "How about you, yourself? How do you feel 
 about it ? Are you glad ? " 
 
 " Of course I'm glad," she cried. " How can you 
 ask?" 
 
 He took her in his arms with a certain resolute- 
 ness, and looked her squarely in the eyes. 
 
 " We are going to be very happy," he said firmly. 
 
 She looked at him uncomprehendingly, as if she 
 thought it were not necessary to say that. 
 
 " Of course," she murmured. 
 
 " Very happy," he repeated. 
 
 " Of course, very happy. We have everything to 
 make us happy. If we hadn't," she said lightly, " I 
 shouldn't marry you." 
 
 282
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII 
 
 THE clock was striking nine as Morgan entered 
 Mr. Cogshell's private office. He greeted the 
 lawyer warmly. 
 
 " How about this Pacific Steel Stock ? " he asked 
 the lawyer, as he sat down beside the flat top desk. 
 " I am going to follow these things now I am to 
 have charge of this big fortune." 
 
 Cogshell leaned back in his chair. 
 
 " What about the stock ? " 
 
 " I saw by last night's paper that they did not 
 declare the increased dividend, which has been ex- 
 pected, and that the stock, as a result, dropped some 
 frightful number of points. Lots of people were 
 cleaned out." 
 
 " Oh, yes. But what has that to do with you ? " 
 
 " Did I have any of the stock?" 
 
 The other looked relieved. 
 
 " Oh, no ! " he said. 
 
 " I thought perhaps," said Morgan, " that that was 
 the business you had with me." 
 
 " Not at all. The business," Cogshell went on, 
 
 283
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 briskly, " is the same business I spoke to you about 
 a year ago. We thought for a time it would blow 
 over, but it has finally come to a head," he con- 
 cluded, mixing his metaphors in a thoroughly busi- 
 nesslike way. 
 
 " In connection with this you asked me at one time 
 if I had a mole between my shoulder-blades, or some- 
 where." 
 
 " Exactly." 
 
 Cogshell looked at him keenly. 
 
 " Go on," said Morgan. 
 
 " The story is rather a long one," said the lawyer. 
 " It begins away back at the time of your birth. 
 Your mother and father were on their way to New 
 York from Florida, when it was discovered that the 
 motion of the train had precipitated the event, and 
 your father's physician, whom your father had ac- 
 company them (so fearful was he that an accident 
 would occur), advised them to go no further than 
 Philadelphia. Your mother was taken to a hospital 
 in Philadelphia, two other doctors rushed over from 
 New York, and in three hours a child was pre- 
 maturely born. You perhaps know this." 
 
 Morgan nodded, wondering. 
 
 " Your father was almost frantic with anxiety. 
 284
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 He had set his heart on having a son. This child 
 was a son, but a weak, frail son whom the three 
 doctors worked on hopelessly, with artificial respira- 
 tion, endeavoring to bring it to life, but without suc- 
 cess. There was a nurse in the room at the time. 
 And the distinguishing mark of this child was a 
 mole high up on his back." 
 
 The young man noted that the other continually 
 referred to him as " this child." He made no com- 
 ment, however. 
 
 " The three doctors," pursued Cogshell, " are all 
 dead. The nurse is alive." 
 
 " I see," said Morgan, to fill in a pause. 
 
 " The situation was this. The doctors did not 
 have the heart to tell your father that the child would 
 not live. While they were debating the question, a 
 child, just born of an unfortunate woman in the free 
 ward, was brought into the nursery to be weighed. 
 The three doctors looked at each other, and imme- 
 diately sent the nurse out of the room on some 
 pretext. She was curious enough to observe, before 
 she went, however, that the free ward baby had no 
 blemish at least not on its back." 
 
 Morgan clasped the arms of his chair. 
 
 " I think I see the connection," he said, evenly. 
 
 285
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 " What may have happened is, of course, appar- 
 ent." Mr. Cogshell unfolded a white handkerchief 
 and mopped his brow. " When the nurse returned," 
 he said, " both babies were gone. Your mother was 
 immediately put on a wheeled cot and taken to an- 
 other part of the hospital. Three weeks later, ac- 
 cording to the hospital records, she and her child left 
 the institution. The same record shows that the free 
 ward baby died." 
 
 Morgan met the lawyer's eye. 
 
 " How has this come to light ? " 
 
 " The nurse told about it." 
 
 " Why had she not told of it before ? " 
 
 " Well, she had never been approached. She was 
 most liberally paid for her services, and she did not 
 wish to cause trouble to your father, with no appar- 
 ent object. And, of course, her chance of making a 
 living as a nurse would not be bright if she 
 antagonized the whole medical profession by expos- 
 ing three most prominent doctors, who had per- 
 formed a criminal act with the best intentions in the 
 world." 
 
 " Of course," put in Morgan, " of course she could 
 do nothing else." 
 
 " Now the question arises did the doctors change 
 
 286
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 the real son of Mrs. Holt for the pauper boy born at 
 the same time ? Or did her boy actually live, and 
 the pauper boy die, as shown by the record ? " 
 
 Morgan was thinking. All this was very astonish- 
 ing. 
 
 " One thing was in your our favor," went on 
 Cogshell, with the air of a man filling in the time 
 until his companion should say something he wanted 
 to hear ; " the record shows that the free ward baby 
 had some trouble, due to hasty work by the hospital 
 interne." 
 
 The desk telephone rang. The lawyer swung 
 round to answer it. As he did so he knocked his 
 newspaper off upon the floor. Morgan picked it up 
 and looked at it listlessly. 
 
 " Will the testimony of this nurse," he said, when 
 the other had finished, " be sufficient to deprive me 
 of the property and turn it over to the other heirs ? " 
 
 " The other heirs certainly think so. They have 
 retained the best counsel to be had, and have been 
 working on the woman for a year to make her tell 
 what she knew. Of course," he admitted, " if it were 
 shown that you had a mole on your back, the 
 woman's testimony would be valueless ; but if, on the 
 
 contrary, it turned out that you had no mole in that 
 
 287
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 position, I am not sure that there would be any 
 chance for us at all. Of course, we have the money, 
 and could take it on from court to court for a long 
 while." 
 
 " I see," said Morgan. He felt that he understood 
 the whole situation. 
 
 There was a pointed silence. Cogshell gazed at 
 him curiously. 
 
 " Well," he said at last, with ill concealed impa- 
 tience, " I think I have said everything. Are there 
 more questions you wish to ask? " 
 
 Morgan returned his gaze pleasantly. 
 
 " No, I think not," he said, quite contented. 
 
 " Then I shall ask one, Have you a mole on your 
 back between your shoulder blades ? " 
 
 " Why," began the young man, in no hurry, but 
 just then the telephone bell rang again. Cogshell 
 answered it. His companion let his eyes fall idly on 
 the paper. When the former turned back to him, he 
 found him staring round-eyed at the newspaper. 
 His face was pale. The lawyer could hear him 
 breathing. 
 
 "What is the matter? Glass of water? Here, 
 take it." 
 
 Cogshell drew it from the cooler behind his chair. 
 
 288
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 Morgan stood up. The blood rushed back to his 
 face. He pulled himself together with an effort. 
 
 " I will see you in a day or two," he said, his voice 
 a little unsteady. " I am taking the train now train 
 South." 
 
 He held out his hand. The other grasped it, and 
 watched him leave the office, without another word. 
 As soon as the door closed behind the young man 
 he dived for the paper and looked eagerly for the 
 paragraph the former had been reading. There was 
 no mistaking which one it was. The head-lines were 
 these : 
 
 "BANK CASHIER COMMITS SUICIDE 
 
 Joseph Rupert, prominent citizen of 
 
 Prince Charles, Virginia, shoots 
 
 himself. Believed to have 
 
 been caught in slump 
 
 on Pacific Steel" 
 
 Mr. Cogshell read no more. 
 
 " But why," he said, " should that take Morgan 
 Holt back to Prince Charles ? " 
 
 289
 
 CHAPTER XXIX 
 
 AT the door of Mr. Cogshell's outer office a man, 
 evidently a newspaper reporter, accosted Mor- 
 gan. He had been waiting for an hour. 
 
 " Mr. Holt," he said, with deference, " we have in- 
 formation that you are not the rightful heir of the 
 Holt millions. Have you a statement to make ? " 
 
 The young man gazed over the reporter's shoulder. 
 He scarcely heard what the other said. 
 
 " See me in the morning," he replied, vaguely, and 
 left the office. 
 
 The reporter opened his eyes significantly, and 
 made a note in a small note-book. In the afternoon 
 issue of his paper appeared the words, "seemed 
 greatly agitated, and would not deny the rumor." 
 This, to the reading public, is the same as a positive 
 confirmation of the news, and by nightfall the city 
 was morally certain that Morgan Holt was not Mor- 
 gan Holt. 
 
 Trains are slow, creeping things. It is a long way 
 at best from New York to Prince Charles ; but now 
 
 it seemed to Morgan Holt that he was spending his 
 
 290
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 life on the way. The morning wore slowly on. 
 Endless fields, houses, barns and bridges passed by. 
 Noon came. The train plodded on. He wished to 
 be there immediately, yet he did not know what he 
 expected to do when he got there. He only knew 
 that it was impossible for him to stay away. 
 
 He wondered how she was standing it. She had 
 had no pleasure in her married life with her husband, 
 and he had died disgracing her. His financial deal- 
 ings were not acts of hers. She had scarcely even a 
 knowledge of them. He had killed himself to escape 
 the dishonor that would result from them and, in do- 
 ing so, had lifted the burden of dishonor for himself 
 to place it on her innocent shoulders. He had lived 
 a coward, and died the same way. 
 
 Morgan knew that wherever she went now, peo- 
 ple would refer to her as the woman whose husband 
 had committed suicide to escape the consequence of 
 his debts. Her friends would think of it whenever 
 they were with her. She would carry it through her 
 life hung about her neck his albatross. It would be 
 her burden, her punishment, just as if she herself had 
 committed the crime. 
 
 Now was the time for her friends to come to her, 
 
 and he was her friend. She had been a comfort 
 
 291
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 and a reassurance to him in the dreary periods of his 
 life at Prince Charles. He wanted to be with her, 
 therefore, to offer his sympathy, to be what balm he 
 could to her in the trying situation. There was 
 nothing he could say ; there was nothing he could 
 do ; but he must be there. 
 
 The train was late. As the afternoon wore on it 
 was further and further behind its schedule. The 
 stage to Prince Charles was compelled by postal 
 regulations to wait until quarter-past four for the mail. 
 If the train was not there by that time, the stage 
 went on without it. It was half-past four when they 
 arrived. The stage had gone. He did not hesitate, 
 but started to walk the ten miles to Prince Charles. 
 
 At seven o'clock he came to the gate of the 
 Ruperts' house. A light burned dimly in the hall. 
 He crossed the lawn with rapid steps and rang the 
 bell peremptorily. The maid said Mrs. Rupert was 
 seeing no one. 
 
 " Say I have come all the way from New York to 
 see her," he explained. 
 
 The maid disappeared. He did not sit down, but 
 walked up and down in the hall. 
 
 " Mrs. Rupert is at dinner," said the maid, return- 
 ing. " She will see you in the dining-room." 
 
 292
 
 I HOPED YOU WOULD COME
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 He followed her. Mrs. Rupert, looking very pale 
 in her black clothes, rose and held out her hand. 
 She said nothing. The maid disappeared through 
 the swinging pantry door. 
 
 " I hoped you would come," she said, in a low 
 tone. 
 
 He still held her hand. 
 
 " It seemed as if I should never get here," he re- 
 turned. 
 
 " I know. When the stage passed and you were 
 not on it, I thought you were not coming." 
 
 She sat down again at the table. 
 
 "You have not had dinner? " she asked. 
 
 "No." 
 
 She rang for the maid. 
 
 " Set a place, please, for Mr. Holt." 
 
 He sat at the table with her. 
 
 " I missed the stage," he remarked, not quite 
 knowing what to say with the servant in the 
 room. 
 
 " And walked ? " 
 
 " All the way." 
 
 The maid disappeared. 
 
 " It was so like you to come," she exclaimed. 
 
 " Of course I never thought of anything else." 
 293
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 " If you only knew" she said, " what a comfort it 
 is." 
 
 " You have had a hard time ? " 
 
 " I have not cried. I could not cry. There was 
 just a weight here." She put her hand on her breast. 
 " I I have been ashamed. I have felt as if I never 
 could go out again to face the people. They will 
 pity me." 
 
 " You have too many friends. Your friends under- 
 stand this situation." 
 
 " I have never felt as if I had so few friends." 
 
 " Now is the time," he returned gravely, " that 
 you have the most." 
 
 She smiled. 
 
 " No," she said, " the fewest, but the best." 
 
 They were silent for a long while. 
 
 " Is there anything I can do? " he asked at length. 
 
 "No, thank you, I think not. My father and 
 mother are coming to-morrow. They will arrange 
 everything." 
 
 They rose presently from the table. 
 
 " I feel like myself again," she said. 
 
 He noticed a little color in her cheeks. 
 
 " It is only a step," he returned, " from low spirits 
 
 to contentment." 
 
 294
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 She thought a little while, apparently oblivious of 
 him. She wanted to talk about something else than 
 herself. 
 
 " Do you know," she observed at length, " who 
 has been spoken of for cashier of the bank ? " 
 
 He was interested. 
 
 " Tell me quickly." 
 
 " You," she replied. 
 
 He leaned back in his chair. He could not have 
 been more staggered if he had been struck. She 
 watched his face eagerly. 
 
 " Well," she cried, " what do you think of that ? " 
 
 " I'm surprised." 
 
 " My father said you would not consider it" 
 
 " I doubt if they spoke of it seriously." 
 
 " Would you consider it ? " 
 
 He passed his hand across his forehead. 
 
 " No," he returned, " I shouldn't." 
 
 She nodded. 
 
 " I thought not. When do you return to New 
 York?" 
 
 " To-morrow. I left without even saying where I 
 was going." 
 
 " I am glad," she said, in a low tone, " to have 
 
 seen you even for so short a time." 
 
 295
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 He had risen to go. A certain unexpected reluc- 
 tance to leave her came over him. He wondered at 
 himself. 
 
 " I wish I were to stay longer," he exclaimed. 
 
 She smiled. 
 
 " Well, why not stay here all the time ? " 
 
 He looked at her thoughtfully. 
 
 " Many reasons. Life in theory and life in reality," 
 he said, reflectively, " are very different things. If 
 the average man were asked whether he would rather 
 have thirty million dollars and live in idleness in a 
 big city, leading an uneasy, irregular and unhealthy 
 life, or have six thousand a year and live a comfort- 
 able human life in a pleasant town like this, earning 
 his own way, he would take the latter without hesi- 
 tation. But give him the thirty millions first and ask 
 him to exchange it for the six thousand a year, the 
 comfortable life and the pleasant town and you 
 couldn't make him do it except over his dead 
 body." 
 
 She laughed. 
 
 " That's your case, isn't it ? " 
 
 " It's my case exactly. I hang fast to the fortune 
 I don't want and, dog-in-the-manger like, keep the 
 
 other heirs who want it from having it." 
 
 296
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 " Could you make six thousand a year here ? " she 
 asked. 
 
 " No doubt of it. Three thousand as cashier of 
 the bank. And three thousand besides. Your hus- 
 band could have done it if he had not spent his time 
 on bigger game. I get at least five thousand a year 
 now from the cypress operation, which will continue 
 for several years. And after that is finished I shall 
 always have the water-power. I could generate 
 enough electricity to light this whole town at prac- 
 tically no expense." 
 
 She leaned forward excitedly. 
 
 " Why," she cried, eagerly, " you would be the 
 angel the town has been looking for for many years." 
 
 " It does need things," he answered, with enthu- 
 siasm. " It has been growing steadily in population, 
 but its institutions have stood still." 
 
 She stood up. 
 
 " Come and start things," she said, smiling her 
 wonderful smile. 
 
 " I would like it above all things," he replied. 
 
 He noted the delicate, evanescent perfume of her as 
 she stood there. She was charming and compelling. 
 
 "Why not come, then?" she went on, glancing at 
 
 him through her partly closed eyes. 
 
 297
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 He paused a moment. 
 
 " You do not quite realize the golden road on 
 which I tread. In America the possession of thirty 
 millions of dollars is a title of nobility. It proscribes 
 the man's life. He must marry thus and so. Aside 
 from the stock exchange, it is not good form for him 
 to have an established business. He is to have no 
 privacy. The press and the public follow him about 
 from place to place. Unless I threw the money in 
 the sea I should not return to Prince Charles and," 
 he added, unexpectedly, " to you." 
 
 He stopped, surprised at what he had said. 
 
 " As to the latter," she said lightly, but with eyes 
 very bright, " I should think the sacrifice of the 
 money would be worth it." 
 
 He laughed and held out his hand. 
 
 " I should think so too," he replied, gravely. 
 
 She let her hand rest in his for a moment. 
 
 "You spoke of the golden road," she said. 
 " Please remember that the golden road is not al- 
 ways made bright by money and by pomp and cir- 
 cumstance ; and perhaps service to one's fellow 
 men, such as you could render here, and the earning 
 of one's own way in the world might make a road to 
 
 travel more golden and bright than any other." 
 
 298
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 He looked down at her intently. 
 
 " I may perhaps have a chance to find out," he 
 said, presently. " My title to the fortune has been 
 questioned." 
 
 She laid her hand on his arm. 
 
 " If ever there comes a time," she exclaimed ear- 
 nestly, " when it may seem necessary for you to re- 
 linquish your claim to the money, do it willingly, 
 and I think you will be happy." 
 
 He looked at her once again as she stood by the 
 red glow of the lamp on the table. The rich light 
 fell on her white young shoulders, and touched them 
 with a tint that matched the flush on her cheek and 
 the glorious gold-red of her hair. 
 
 " You are very beautiful," he observed, in a mo- 
 ment, as if that had been the subject of conversation. 
 
 She laughed softly, but did not reply. 
 
 " Good-night," he said. 
 
 " Good-night." 
 
 At the door he turned back. 
 
 " I shall remember," he said seriously, " what you 
 said about the golden road." 
 
 " Please." 
 
 " And if I should ever have to give up my money 
 
 and come back here, I shall do it without regret." 
 
 299
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 " You are a wonderful person," she said. 
 
 He spent the night at the Prince Charles Hotel. 
 As he was at breakfast in the morning, two directors 
 of the bank, having heard late the night before of 
 his presence in Prince Charles, came to offer him the 
 position as cashier of the bank. After he had heard 
 their mission, he thanked them, and said he could by 
 no means accept it. 
 
 "The care of my father's money," he explained, 
 " will take all of my time, and the lady I am to marry 
 does not care to live anywhere but in New York." 
 
 He did this calmly, and with no sign of excitement. 
 Neither of the old directors could have known that 
 he had not lain down the night before until nearly 
 daybreak, but had paced the floor, walking up and 
 down in the little space between the cherry bureau 
 and the closet door, driving himself, unwillingly, 
 into the conviction that he must put the position in 
 the bank out of his mind. His duty was to his re- 
 sponsibilities in another place and to Madeleine. 
 
 300
 
 CHAPTER XXX 
 
 WHEN he found on his arrival in New York 
 that the newspapers had decided that he was 
 not Morgan Holt, he was astonished. He bought 
 ten papers, and took them home to find out all 
 about it. The whole story was printed. Where 
 they got the details nobody knows, unless the other 
 heirs had considered it to their advantage to have it 
 made public. There were photographs galore re- 
 produced irrelevant photographs of the Holt 
 house, the drawing-room in the same, the birth- 
 place of Morgan's father, the hospital in Philadel- 
 phia where he was born, and others equally sense- 
 less. The details of the story were fairly correct. 
 By afternoon all the papers agreed that Morgan 
 Holt was not Morgan Holt. 
 
 The effect of this on his friends was remarkable. 
 Two days before he had been hailed as the most 
 important social figure in the metropolis. His yes- 
 terday's mail had been piled up on the desk in his 
 study. To-day there was scarcely a missive. The 
 world was curious, but few of them dared to call or 
 
 301
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 telephone to discover the truth of the rumor. So 
 the telephone was silent. Morgan wondered what 
 Madeleine was thinking about it. He thought she 
 would be concerned, and decided to call and see her 
 early in the evening, before she went out, if it could 
 be arranged. He asked the butler to telephone to 
 her house and see if that arrangement would be sat- 
 isfactory, but before this could be done, Madeleine's 
 father came to see Morgan. 
 
 Morgan was astonished, but supposed that the old 
 gentleman had come to discuss the newspaper re- 
 ports. In this he was not mistaken. Mr. Graham 
 appeared to be in a state of much choler. He was 
 standing before the fireplace in the library when 
 Morgan entered. 
 
 " I have been hunting you all over this town all 
 day yesterday and all day to-day," he burst out, 
 blusteringly. " Lord bless my soul, I went in every 
 club and gentlemen's bar in the city and, hang me ! 
 if I know where you hid." 
 
 " Sit down," said Morgan. 
 
 " I will stand up, sir, until I have had some expla- 
 nation of your conduct." 
 
 Morgan dropped into a chair. 
 
 " My conduct ? " he asked. 
 
 302
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 " You will oblige me, sir, by not adopting a debon- 
 air manner with me. You understand me perfecly, 
 I believe." 
 
 " Now," said Morgan, " we will have a statement 
 from you as to what conduct you mean, and what 
 explanation you desire." 
 
 " What conduct I mean ! and what explanation I 
 desire ! Do I hear aright ? Is it possible that you 
 do not know what the papers have been printing 
 about you in the past two days ? And can you be 
 so fatuous as to suppose no explanation could possi- 
 bly be asked for your mysterious disappearance?" 
 
 "To whom am I accountable for my going and 
 coming?" 
 
 Old Hampton Graham shook his bony finger at 
 the young man. 
 
 " To the lady," he cried, red in the face, " to 
 whom you are affianced to be married." 
 
 " I grant you. But to her father?" 
 
 The other pounded the table. 
 
 " To her father ! " 
 
 " Don't shout," said Morgan. 
 
 The veins stood out on the temples of Graham's 
 face. He seemed on the verge of apoplexy. 
 
 " I will not be dictated to ! I will not be called to 
 303
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 account for the tones of my voice ! Sir, I am a 
 gentleman ! " 
 
 "There are servants in the house," said the other, 
 quietly. " It is well not to talk for their benefit." 
 
 " I do not wonder that you are ashamed of the 
 subject. For forty-eight hours Madeleine and her 
 mother and I have been on tenter-hooks, and not 
 one word from you. Not one word ! Never 
 have I been treated so before ! " 
 
 " You are referring to the articles to the effect that 
 I am not really Morgan Holt." 
 
 " I think I made myself perfectly clear," observed 
 the other, with dignity. " It is not apparent to me 
 that there is much chance for confusion." 
 
 "As to that," returned Morgan, " I left the city 
 yesterday morning, and did not see the papers until 
 my return this evening." 
 
 " But you were approached by a reporter before 
 you left, and did not deny the rumor instantly" 
 
 Morgan laughed. 
 
 " Is that the cause of all this excitement ?" 
 
 " Well, my dear young sir, where there's a great 
 deal of smoke there's bound to be some fire. It 
 seems to me that when you might have saved us all 
 this anxiety by telling the reporter fellow the thing 
 
 304
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 wasn't true, it would only have been the act, sir, of a 
 gentleman to do so." 
 
 " You talk as if the rumor was of my death, 
 rather than the mere loss of my money." 
 
 Apoplexy threatened strongly again. Hampton 
 Graham's face grew pink. 
 
 " The mere loss of your money ! " he roared. " Do 
 I understand that you actually admit it? " 
 
 " I wish you'd sit down," Morgan said, impa- 
 tiently. " It gets you so excited to be on your feet." 
 
 " I insist, sir, on an answer." 
 
 " Did Madeleine send you ? " 
 
 The other glared at him. 
 
 " Madeleine and Mrs. Graham and I decided that 
 this was a matter for me to take up." 
 
 The young man looked his companion squarely 
 in the eyes. His jaw was set. 
 
 " And will you kindly tell me," he demanded, 
 choosing his words, " why this question becomes 
 one of such paramount importance ? " 
 
 The other was arrested by the spirit in which this 
 question was put. 
 
 " I will," he said, bitingly. " No man shall marry 
 my daughter under false pretenses. If he has no 
 money he is not to pose as a millionaire." 
 
 305
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 " That is to say, the fact of whether I have the 
 money or not will make a difference to Madeleine." 
 
 " Make a difference, man ! Great governor ! 
 Have you taken leave of your senses ? Madeleine 
 can't marry a poor man." 
 
 " And she wishes you to to adjust this matter to 
 suit the circumstances." 
 
 " That is her desire. That is, in fact, the desire of 
 all of us." 
 
 " In other words," said Morgan, slowly, " if this 
 money is not rightfully mine, Madeleine wishes to 
 inform me that I need not consider myself engaged 
 to her." 
 
 Mr. Graham coughed. 
 
 "In that case, you will, as a gentleman, release 
 her, as a matter of course." 
 
 "She admits, then, that she is marrying me for 
 my money, rather than for any love she might 
 bear me." 
 
 The other raised his shoulders. 
 
 " My dear young sir, that is a very-delicate-sub- 
 ject," he said, running it all into one word. " You 
 could not of course expect Madeleine to choose a 
 man who could not support her properly in her own 
 class." 
 
 306
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 " Suppose I should say that I am not the rightful 
 heir to the Holt millions ? " 
 
 The other put his hand up to his chin. 
 
 " Then, my dear sir, I should say we had come to 
 the parting of the ways." He put his fingers in his 
 vest pocket. " I have the ring you gave Madeleine 
 here in " 
 
 Morgan sprang to his feet. 
 
 " You have the ring I gave Madeleine ? " 
 
 " I have, indeed." 
 
 " Do you mean to say that after all I have done 
 for her, after the year I spent for her proving I was 
 man enough to marry her, the sacrifices I agreed to 
 make for her happiness, she sends back my ring by 
 her father without first finding out whether there is 
 any truth in these newspaper reports ? " 
 
 The other flushed. 
 
 " Tut, tut, tut," he cried. 
 
 Morgan paced up and down the room. The in- 
 terference of Madeleine's father in the affair, and her 
 delegation to him of the office of continuing or 
 breaking the engagement (as he saw fit) put the 
 whole transaction on a purely business basis. She 
 was thus frankly acknowledging her undivided pur- 
 pose of giving herself to him for value to be received 
 
 307
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 in money, power and position. If he could not 
 deliver this, she would save herself for some one 
 who could. It was a perfectly plain, equitable 
 bargain. If he cared for that sort of marriage, he 
 could not do better. But he did not care for it. It 
 nauseated him. His only desire was to escape from 
 it and from the girl at any cost. Now was the 
 time to burn his bridges. He paused before 
 Graham. 
 
 " Give me the ring," he said. 
 
 Graham gave him the ring. 
 
 " When you go to Madeleine," he said, excitedly, 
 " you will tell her that I will never inherit the Holt 
 millions. You hear me ; I will never inherit the 
 money." The other winced as if he had been 
 struck. " This ring I shall keep to remind me of the 
 sort of wife I missed marrying by the merest stroke 
 of Providence." 
 
 " There is no need of all this excitement," the old 
 gentleman exploded. " We should have found it 
 out sooner or later." 
 
 " Well, you've found it out now." 
 
 " How long," exclaimed the other, testily, " have 
 you known this ? " 
 
 " Not long." 
 
 308
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 There was a silence. 
 
 " I bid you good-night." 
 
 " Good-night," returned Morgan. 
 
 When the visitor had gone, he went to the tele- 
 phone. 
 
 " Mr. Cogshell," he said, presently, " we will not 
 contest that suit against the other heirs." 
 
 " What ! " the lawyer shouted. 
 
 " No use dragging the thing out. I cannot show 
 them a mole on my back." 
 
 " You have no " 
 
 " It's just as I say. The thing is hopeless. We 
 will let them have the money." 
 
 He hung up the receiver, and stepped out into the 
 hall. 
 
 " Touring-car, please, Bronson," he said. " I'm 
 going to the theatre." 
 
 309
 
 CHAPTER XXXI 
 
 THE next morning Morgan awoke in the mood 
 of a man who has burned his bridges behind 
 him. Last night his abhorrence of the selfishness of 
 his small world, his disgust at the unhumanity of 
 the one person he had counted on to be human, had 
 so incensed him that he had taken his own destiny 
 in his hands. Now, viewing the situation with a 
 calm mind he felt that he had accomplished some- 
 thing valuable by this sudden act. He had pulled 
 himself out of an existence that every day had grown 
 more and more repellent to him. He had cast loose 
 from a girl he did not love and who did not, and 
 probably never had, loved him. But for these ad- 
 vantageous things he had paid a great price. In a 
 certain way he did not mind that. The life he pro- 
 posed to lead did not absolutely require the money 
 he had given up. He had shown himself capable 
 of paying his own way. But in surrendering the 
 money he had surrendered power power for good. 
 That was a serious thing. It had the air of avoiding 
 
 310
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 responsibility. Yet, he reflected, as he dressed, if 
 he had it to do over again he would doubtless do it 
 in the same way. 
 
 By his plate at the breakfast table he found a note 
 from Madeleine, written the night before, after her 
 father had returned. No one but a person with 
 Madeleine's view of life could have achieved such a 
 composition. Almost on the spur of the moment 
 she had manufactured a sincerity suitable for the oc- 
 casion. She had approached the subject with a 
 flauntingly apparent innocence, as though the situa- 
 tion had been one thrust upon her by the hand of 
 Providence. She preferred to treat her action as the 
 automatic consequence of his losing his money. She 
 spoke of their duty to themselves and of their ulti- 
 mate happiness. It was soft and gentle in its tone, 
 as if it were a metaphorical cool hand stretched out 
 to touch a fevered brow. It was so angelic that she 
 doubtless believed in her own unselfishness. At any 
 rate he knew that she felt that she had veneered over 
 a rough spot until it was smooth and shining, and 
 that her duty in the matter was finished. 
 
 He tossed the letter aside as if in so doing he put 
 her entirely beyond his horizon. There was no sign 
 of regret in that gesture. It was with relief, as if he
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 had at length come out of a dark cavern into the 
 fresh, bright air. 
 
 The papers were still full of him. He never real- 
 ized the great figure a rich man was until now. So 
 important was his position, solely because of his 
 riches, that the casting him down from his pedestal 
 and the putting up another in his place became a 
 great newspaper story. It was treated with all the 
 verbiage that would have been appropriate had one 
 of the more important angels been dragged out of 
 heaven and set permanently outside the pearly gates. 
 
 Morgan was astonished and exceedingly pleased 
 at one thing. It seemed that the five heirs to the 
 fortune (in case he were adjudged not to be the 
 rightful recipient of it) were all heart and soul in- 
 terested in a scheme that had been patented and 
 perfected by one of them a first cousin of Morgan's 
 named Penrhyn Holt whom he had not seen for 
 many years. The scheme was for the transmission 
 of electric currents of high voltage, and was intended 
 to be used more particularly for electrically operated 
 railroads. Penrhyn Holt had discovered an insula- 
 tion for the third rail, which became a conductor 
 only when in contact with a certain other material. 
 
 The current would run on a copper core inside his 
 
 312
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 protection, and when the insulation was touched by 
 a shoe made of a certain alloy he had discovered, 
 the galvanic action produced a current through 
 them both, which was transmitted to the motor in 
 the locomotive. 
 
 The newspapers gave a brief and some what - 
 bored explanation of the invention, hurrying on to 
 what was considered of more interest to the public 
 the fact that the Holt millions, when transferred 
 from Morgan to the new heirs, would be used for the 
 perfection and exploitation of the discovery. The 
 accounts added that the invention was undoubtedly 
 the most important and far-reaching discovery since 
 the invention of the steam locomotive ; for it meant 
 that the steam locomotive was a thing of the past. 
 
 This woke a strong feeling of satisfaction, if not of 
 positive enthusiasm, in Morgan. It was gratifying 
 to know that the money would be used for some- 
 thing big and important. But he had barely finished 
 breakfast when an event happened which changed 
 the whole face of the situation. 
 
 Bronson stepped into the library. 
 
 " Mr. Penrhyn Holt to see you, sir," he said, im- 
 passively. 
 
 Morgan raised his eyebrows. 
 313
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 " All right," he said, " I'll see him." 
 
 Penrhyn was a very well-groomed person with 
 a closely-cropped moustache. There was little to 
 suggest an inventor about him, except the slightly 
 bulging forehead and the very clear steady eyes. 
 
 "Sit down," said Morgan, after they had exchanged 
 formalities. 
 
 The other sat down. 
 
 " I suppose," he said, without any beating about 
 the bush, " you have been reading the newspapers." 
 
 " Most of them," replied Morgan, smiling ; " there 
 are two or three I haven't got to yet." 
 
 Penrhyn, whose face had been severe and im- 
 mobile up to this point, broke into a contagious 
 laugh. 
 
 " I know what you mean," he returned. " I have 
 learned more about my family in the last week than 
 I had in the twenty-five years previous." 
 
 Morgan nodded. 
 
 " My object in coming here," went on Penrhyn, 
 becoming serious again, " is to reassure you." 
 
 Morgan looked up. 
 
 " Reassure me ? " he said, blankly. 
 
 " The nurse we have been counting on to back our 
 claim died this morning." 
 
 314
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 He made the statement with absolute calm, sitting 
 motionless in the chair, in the same position he had 
 taken when he had first sat down. His cousin 
 noticed that his fingers, resting lightly on the arm of 
 the chair, did not attempt to clasp anything or to 
 close, or to make any nervous movement. He looked 
 at Morgan steadily. 
 
 Morgan sprang to his feet. 
 
 " Well, well," he cried, excitedly, walking up and 
 down the room. 
 
 He stopped before Penrhyn. 
 
 " Had you no affidavit or letter or written state- 
 ment ? " 
 
 " None of those things," returned the other. " We 
 tried to get her to write it out, but she refused to do 
 it." 
 
 Morgan went over to the wall and pressed a but- 
 ton. 
 
 " Bronson, call Mr. Cogshell and tell him to come 
 up here at once, if he can." 
 
 " I think he is in the house now, sir." 
 
 In an instant Mr. Cogshell puffed into the room, 
 his smartly brushed whiskers flowing to either side 
 of his chin like the dividing water at the nose of a 
 tugboat. 
 
 315
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 " Great heavens, Morgan," he cried, exultingly, 
 " the whole case is " 
 
 He suddenly saw Penrhyn and stopped. Penrhyn 
 rose. 
 
 " Go on," he said, quietly. " The whole case is off." 
 
 The lawyer nodded. 
 
 " I think you are right, Mr. Holt," he agreed ; 
 " the case is off." 
 
 They all sat down. There seemed to be nothing 
 further to say. There was a long pause. 
 
 " This, then, leaves me in possession," observed 
 Morgan. 
 
 " Just as before," assented Cogshell. 
 
 " Precisely, as far as we are concerned," returned 
 Penrhyn. " I came up here to tell you about it," he 
 added, " because it seemed only fair, since no contest 
 was to be made, that you should know about it and 
 have your mind at rest." 
 
 There was another silence. 
 
 " Is it true," asked Morgan, presently, " that 
 you have perfected this new insulating discov- 
 ery?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " So that it will be practical ? " 
 
 " I believe it is absolutely so." 
 316
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 " My father's money would have gone into this 
 project." 
 
 " Most of it. We are all interested. In fact, the 
 money of all the other Holts, what little there was, 
 has all been invested in this invention." 
 
 Morgan studied the carpet thoughtfully. The an- 
 nouncement that the nurse had died and that no con- 
 test of the will would therefore be made, nullified his 
 renunciation of the money made the night before. 
 If Cogshell believed, as he had been led to, that there 
 was no mole on Morgan's back, that fact, now that 
 there was no testimony to be brought forward con- 
 cerning it, lost its significance. Nobody else was now 
 demanding the money. It was his. 
 
 He could not deny that he was pleased. In think- 
 ing over what he had done the night before he had 
 gradually come to the conclusion that it would have 
 been better not to have given it all up, but rather to 
 have had some of it still left under his control. For 
 in the little town of Prince Charles there was great 
 use for money. There were many things he could do, 
 things he wanted to do. He wanted to bring the 
 town up a little closer to the present. He wanted to 
 make available to them and to their children a few 
 more of the advantages and comforts of the more
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 civilized world. If they had shown him the delights 
 of a world that was not overcivilized, he wanted to 
 show them the delights of a world that was civilized 
 enough. 
 
 At the same time, he wished to cut loose his bonds 
 to the great city. He wished to be free and unat- 
 tached and uncelebrated. The world at that moment 
 believed he was not the rightful heir. Why correct 
 that impression ? It left him free. He saw a means 
 of strengthening the impression, and at the same 
 time doing his first really good turn with his money. 
 
 " Penrhyn," he demanded, " would fifteen millions 
 help you to any extent ? " 
 
 Penrhyn removed his hands from the arms of the 
 chair and folded them in his lap. Then he indulged 
 in his wide, companionable smile. 
 
 " With the invention ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " It would be like a gift from heaven," he cried. 
 
 Morgan turned to Cogshell. 
 
 " I should prefer not to correct the impression in 
 the public mind that I am losing my money. I am 
 going away, and I want them to forget me, as they 
 will if they think I am a poor man." 
 
 The lawyer looked puzzled.
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 " My idea is," went on Morgan, " to turn over to 
 Penrhyn and the other heirs here all the shares of 
 Concord and Western stock amounting to fifteen 
 millions. That will enable them to push their in- 
 vention just as if they had really inherited the 
 money." 
 
 One could have heard a pin drop in the room. 
 Cogshell, sunk down in his chair, eyed Morgan 
 strangely from under his bushy brows. Penrhyn 
 looked up presently. 
 
 " I don't understand," he said. 
 
 " I mean just that. Last night I had decided to 
 let you have all the money, just so I could cut loose 
 from this town and from from well, from every- 
 thing. And when I found what you were going to 
 use the money for it seemed as if I had done a good 
 thing in spite of myself. I am not going to undo 
 that good work now. Half of the money is for you 
 to use on your discovery. The only question is 
 now do you want it ? " 
 
 Penrhyn rose in a bewildered sort of way. 
 
 " Do I want it ? Lord, Morgan, this is new life to 
 me. When I heard the news this morning that the 
 nurse had passed on, I had no heart left. I feel now 
 as if the sun were shining again." 
 
 319
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 Morgan put a hand on his shoulder. 
 
 " The sun is shining for both of us, I think," he 
 said. 
 
 "I can't take this as a gift," observed Penrhyn 
 after a while. " You'll have to take shares of stock 
 for it." 
 
 " I'll take anything. I'll take postage stamps if 
 you say so." 
 
 " We'll have to make a new issue of stock," the 
 other went on, " and sell you the whole thing. I 
 can't promise you the certificate will be worth more 
 than the paper it is written on, but perhaps in fifteen 
 years " 
 
 Penrhyn laughed to finish the sentence. 
 
 " In fifteen years," commented Mr. Cogshell, " I 
 may be boasting to my friends that I saw the trans- 
 action that made a great revolution in railroading 
 possible." 
 
 " Can it be given out that this affair has been ad- 
 justed out of court?" Morgan asked. 
 
 " Undoubtedly," replied the lawyer. 
 
 The rest of the day was devoted to arranging 
 everything. It was growing dark when Penrhyn and 
 Morgan went home to dinner. A little later Morgan 
 
 called out to Penrhyn from the red-tiled bath-room. 
 
 320
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 " Come in here," he said. " I want to show you 
 something bearing on the nurse's testimony." 
 
 Morgan was standing in the low wide tub, vigor- 
 ously manipulating a big bath sponge. His cousin 
 looked curiously at the lithe, muscular, clear-skinned 
 young man. But the thing that he noted was a 
 small brown spot immediately between the shoulders. 
 
 321
 
 CHAPTER XXXII 
 
 A WHOLE month had passed since Morgan 
 Holt had left Prince Charles. On the third or 
 fourth day afterward, the community had been 
 electrified to find that it had been proven that he 
 was not the rightful heir. They took this, in the 
 main, as a personal affront. They were thoroughly 
 agreed that there must have been some conspiracy 
 against him. Justice had miscarried in some strange 
 way. 
 
 " It's shameful," Miss Torrey had said on one oc- 
 casion, " it's outrageous, I say, that a fine, good man 
 like Mr. Morgan should be deprived of his money by 
 a parcel of heirs that nobody knows anything about. 
 They may drink. They may be very sinful indeed. 
 And yet the law recognizes them and favors them in 
 preference to Mr. Morgan. Is that justice ? No. 
 If there was any justice in this land, they would give 
 the money to Mr. Morgan anyway I always call 
 him Mr. Morgan," she went on in nimble parenthesis, 
 
 " because that is how I knew him first, and first im- 
 
 322
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 pressions, you know, are always lasting." She 
 heaved a sigh. " Every one was perfectly satisfied, 
 / say, before these heirs came along and spoiled 
 everything. Nobody else wanted him deprived of 
 the money. Things like that ought to be put to a 
 popular vote. And I know he would get every vote 
 in Prince Charles, every one." 
 
 It had been suggested to her that perhaps this 
 would not be the fairest way of dealing with the 
 problem, as people might be prejudiced. 
 
 " I don't see how any one could be prejudiced in 
 such a plain case," the little lady affirmed, stoutly. 
 " If I, a mere woman not versed in the ways of the 
 world as others are, can see who is in the right, 
 without prejudice, I don't see why every one can- 
 not." 
 
 The rest of the community had agreed with the 
 sentiment, if not the logic, of Miss Torrey's remarks. 
 
 " Beyond a shadow of a doubt," Mr. Peters had 
 explained to her, peering at her through the teller's 
 wicket at the bank, " some dishonest device has been 
 brought into play. It is inconceivable to me that 
 any person who was not the rightful heir should 
 have been able to appear so for twenty odd years 
 twenty-four years, to be exact. My knowledge of 
 
 323
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 the world leads me to believe that such a thing 
 would be impossible. Ut-terly impossible." 
 
 This statement of fact had warmed Miss Torrey's 
 heart toward the little bank cashier as it never had 
 been warmed before. 
 
 " Do you know," she had whispered confidentially, 
 in return, " if Mr. Morgan had just said he had lived 
 in Prince Charles for a long while, I believe it would 
 have done some good. People from Prince Charles 
 have a reputation for honesty everywhere. If he had 
 said that, all that would have been necessary would 
 have been to say he was the rightful heir, and they 
 would have believed him." 
 
 The flaw in Miss Torrey's logic here was that the 
 controversy hinged on a circumstance that took 
 place at Morgan's birth, in regard to which period of 
 his life his memory might be conceded to be some- 
 what hazy. The picture of the process of depriving 
 the young man of his property was a vivid one in 
 the little lady's mind. She imagined a huge court- 
 room, bleak and bare, where, behind a tall desk, sat 
 the judge, a sort of apotheosis of Pontius Pilate. 
 Morgan was brought in, closely guarded. The 
 proceedings were short. The accusers stated their 
 case. The young man was permitted to reply, but 
 
 324
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 no one believed what he said. The judge, who had 
 formed his opinion beforehand, decided against him. 
 He was then led away she did not know exactly 
 why he was led away, except that all prisoners are 
 led away perhaps to be locked in a cell until he had 
 paid over every cent of the thirty million dollars, 
 and it had been counted and found correct. 
 
 As has been said, a whole month had elapsed 
 since the news of the loss of his fortune had been 
 learned. So nimbly had Mr. Cogshell managed 
 the whole affair that no hint of the real settlement 
 had leaked out. Conversation upon the subject had 
 simmered down somewhat. There seemed to be 
 nothing else to say after a person had expressed his 
 confidence in Morgan Holt, his disgust with the 
 other heirs, and the hope that the money would do 
 them no good as long as they lived. The belief 
 that Morgan was a product of Prince Charles still 
 endured, however, and the people throughout the 
 community expressed the strong hope that, having 
 been ill used by the outside world, he would return 
 to them, where he was among friends. 
 
 This feeling found encouragement in the persistent 
 rumor that the young " ex-millionaire," as the town 
 paper had once experimentally called him, had as- 
 
 325
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 cepted the position as cashier to succeed Mr. Rupert. 
 This, while not in the power of the vox populi to be- 
 stow, was considered to be the most influential and 
 important position in the village. Of course, the 
 town doctor was an important person ; but the bank 
 cashier should be a man versed in the ways of the 
 world. He must be capable of handling noncha- 
 lantly large sums of money ; a person with a fine, 
 polished manner like Mr. Rupert. A doctor might 
 be a shaggy, rough, brusque man who sees what is 
 the matter at a glance, selects the proper pills almost 
 without looking, gives you the Latin name of a 
 disease to think about, and is on his way again, leav- 
 ing a wake of cures behind him. But a bank cashier 
 is a suave person. He must conduct his bank as if 
 it were a drawing-room. He must transact business 
 with an air of ceremony and good breeding. This 
 is necessary in order to inspire confidence in the 
 stability of the bank. Morgan Holt would undoubt- 
 edly be just such an individual. 
 
 At length, the directors of the bank announced 
 that the young man had in truth accepted the posi- 
 tion, and that he might be expected to return to 
 Prince Charles in the near future. Mr. Peters was 
 
 the medium through which this information first 
 
 326
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 reached the outside world. The directors told him 
 about it first, and in response to his excited inquiry 
 as to whether he could tell any one else, had an- 
 swered in the affirmative. Of course, the little man 
 could scarcely wait until five o'clock, and when that 
 hour came, he emerged from the building in a high 
 state of excitement. He stepped over to the post- 
 office. It was crowded with people waiting for the 
 arrival of the stage with the mail. His breast swelled 
 with pride. He tried to be unconcerned, as if he 
 were in the habit every day of announcing that Mor- 
 gan Holt was to be the new cashier of the bank. 
 John Anderson was standing by the desk in a grace- 
 ful attitude. Mr. Peters walked up to him briskly. 
 
 " I am reliably informed that there is to be a new 
 cashier for the bank," he said, with businesslike 
 rapidity. 
 
 Anderson awoke from a brown study and looked 
 about him to see from which direction the sound 
 came. 
 
 " What's that ? " he asked, discovering Mr. Peters 
 some twelve or fourteen inches below him. 
 
 " I was just remarking," observed the little man, 
 with proper dignity, " that there is to be a new cashier 
 at the bank." 
 
 327
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 "Oh, yes," returned Anderson; "well, I reckon 
 that's a safe statement." 
 
 Anderson did not seem to be so much impressed 
 as Mr. Peters had thought he would be. Perhaps his 
 statement had not been emphatic enough. 
 
 " What I mean is," he continued, the fingers of 
 his hands pressed tightly together before him, " I 
 have positive information as to who the gentleman 
 is." 
 
 The other people in the room began to take an in- 
 terest. 
 
 " What's this, Mr. Peters ? " some one asked. 
 
 " I know who the new cashier is." 
 
 Mr. Peters stood up erectly, his eyes sparkling 
 with triumph. They crowded about him. It was 
 indeed a moment of great joy. 
 
 " Who is it ? " they cried. 
 
 He gazed about him prolonging the ecstasy of 
 the moment. 
 
 " Morgan Holt." 
 
 There was a chorus of questions and exclama- 
 tions, but just at that moment the mail-stage drove 
 up to the door and from it alighted Morgan Holt 
 himself, carrying his traveling bag. He entered 
 the post-office room. They instantly surrounded him, 
 
 328
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 insisting on shaking his hand. He was surprised 
 and flustered at this unexpected demonstration. 
 They congratulated him on his new position, and, 
 if they did not sympathize with him on account of 
 his having lost his inheritance, it was because the 
 importance of being cashier was so great in their 
 minds that advances above that were rather vague 
 to them. They felt that the loss of the one was 
 more than made up by gaining the other. 
 "Well," he told them, " I have come to stay." 
 When he had ascertained that there was no mail 
 for him, he walked out on the street. He had not 
 expected that there would be any mail. He had 
 asked merely for the pleasure of doing it just as he 
 used to. He walked up the street toward Miss 
 Torrey's. People recognized him and stopped to 
 shake hands with him. 
 
 He was rilled with enthusiasm for the town. He 
 looked again at each of the familiar houses, the even- 
 ing lights burning, the bustle apparent in the upper 
 rooms, here and there, where children were being 
 put to bed. The odor of pleasant dinners (suppers, 
 they called them in Prince Charles) saluted his nos- 
 trils. It was savory and homelike. The whole town 
 was homelike. The mute cast-iron dogs before Dr. 
 
 329
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 Torrey's seemed like old friends. He walked into 
 the house, as he always did, without ringing. 
 
 " Aunt Cordelia," he cried, addressing her in the 
 old way, " I have come to this town to stay." 
 
 Miss Torrey was flitting about the table, straight- 
 ening a knife here and a spoon there, smoothing out 
 imaginary creases in the cloth, paralleling the nap- 
 kin edges with the edge of the table and, in various 
 ways, putting the finishing touches to it. She stood 
 stock still for quite half a minute in her astonishment. 
 Then she rushed over to him and, hovering about 
 him like a little bird, overwhelmed him with ques- 
 tions, answers, conjectures, and various disconnected 
 conversation. Presently she called to Dr. Torrey : 
 
 " Brother James," she said, " here is Mr. Morgan. 
 He has come home to stay." 
 
 Morgan smiled. That was it. He had come home 
 to stay. 
 
 330
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII 
 
 PRINCE CHARLES was beginning to feel some- 
 what the impetus of the cypress cutting. 
 Schooners stood regularly now in the bay and were 
 loaded by lighters. The lumber company was build- 
 ing a pier out to deep water. Engineers, lumber- 
 men, strange business men frequented the town. A 
 fifty foot gasoline launch ran three times a week to 
 Norfolk for the benefit of the lumber company. Pas- 
 sengers not connected with the cypress operations 
 were also taken on this upon payment of the same 
 fare that was charged by the side-wheeler. It made 
 better time than the steamboat, and as its days for 
 running alternated with the latter, it was now possible 
 to go to Norfolk any day in the week except Thurs- 
 day. Not that that was of any real advantage, as 
 people in Prince Charles wishing to go to Norfolk 
 usually made up their minds several weeks before- 
 hand. But it lent an air of solid prosperity to the 
 town. 
 
 Perkins said the town was beginning to wake up. 
 331
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 He tried to get some of the people interested in the 
 project of making another parallel street and selling 
 building lots on it, but the proposition was too be- 
 wildering. Prince Charles had never had but one 
 street. In fact that was the salient feature of the 
 town. It was the way you recognized it. Put an- 
 other street in it, and would it be Prince Charles ? 
 
 " Have to get them educated up to that idea," 
 Perkins said. 
 
 " There is a boom headed right straight for this 
 town," he told Morgan one day, " and if the town 
 doesn't dodge, said boom is certain to hit it. As 
 soon as I find the proper thing, I am going to bor- 
 row money from your bank, buy some real estate and 
 wait for it to go up." 
 
 " This bank," said Morgan, " does not lend money 
 to people named Perkins." 
 
 " That's all right," returned Perkins, easily, " I 
 never believe what you say anyway. You came down 
 here and said you hadn't a red cent, and when we 
 took your word for it, you said, oh, no ! that wasn't 
 true ; you were a millionaire. We hadn't any more 
 than swallowed that one when you gave us the laugh 
 and said, ' Fooled you again. I was right the first 
 time.' " 
 
 332
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 "That shows how convincing I am." 
 
 He had entered upon the duties of his new posi- 
 tion almost immediately. It seemed that he was 
 simply taking up the reins where he had left off 
 eight months before, except that now he sat in the 
 leather swivel chair which Mr. Rupert used to 
 occupy. Things had changed greatly in those eight 
 months. The town was alive with an enthusiasm 
 that was entirely lacking then. Several large new 
 accounts had come into the bank since then. The 
 lumber company and the construction company, 
 which was building the new pier, had accounts 
 there, and drew money for their pay-rolls every week. 
 Two people came into the bank now where one had 
 come before. Morgan noted that the country was 
 beginning to shake off its listlessness somewhat. 
 Although he had liked the town very well as it was, 
 he realized that it was not a good thing for it to 
 stand still. He therefore bought stock in a small 
 company which proposed to run an automobile bus 
 from Prince Charles to the railroad, in place of the 
 old mail-stage. There was so much more traffic now 
 than formerly that the stage could not always ac- 
 commodate all who wished to use it, and the people 
 who did use it grumbled at the time it consumed. 
 
 333
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 When Mrs. Rupert found out that he had done 
 this, she stopped him on the street one day and half- 
 seriously remonstrated with him for it. This was 
 practically the first opportunity he had had to speak 
 to her since his return, as she had been away most of 
 the time. 
 
 "You know you will get no returns from that 
 investment," she said, " and you must conserve your 
 resources." 
 
 He laughed. 
 
 " I have something to tell you," he said. 
 
 " Is it interesting 1 " she exclaimed, brightening. 
 
 " It is especially interesting because you are the 
 only one to know." 
 
 She clapped her hands. 
 
 " The only one." 
 
 " Except those actually concerned the actors in 
 the play, so to speak." 
 
 She looked about her. 
 
 " Tell me quick," she whispered. 
 
 He had walked along with her until they were 
 alone on the turnpike that led to her house. 
 
 " The gist of the matter is," he began, " that I 
 managed to save a portion of my former fortune for 
 myself." 
 
 334
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 " How nice. Enough, I suppose, to buy you a 
 new suit of clothes." 
 
 " And still have a little over," he replied. " It 
 amounts, in all, to fifteen million dollars." 
 
 She looked at him for a moment and then went 
 over and sat limply down upon a stone by the road- 
 side. He started to speak, but she held up her hand. 
 " Tell me how it happened.'' 
 
 Morgan explained the whole circumstance to her. 
 
 " And," she said, " what are you going to do with 
 it?" 
 
 " That is just what I wanted to consult you about." 
 
 " Of course you did." She ticked off on one 
 finger. " First," she said, mischievously, " you will 
 buy a steam yacht." 
 
 " I'll do nothing of the sort," he exclaimed. 
 
 She laughed. 
 
 " A sloop then a big boat with brass fittings and 
 wicker chairs and a mahogany cabin." 
 
 " No, indeed." 
 
 " A little thirty-foot catboat, then." 
 
 " I don't mind the thirty-foot catboat." 
 
 She ticked off on her second finger, with an air of 
 great seriousness. 
 
 " Second. A big sixty-horse power French car." 
 335
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 He shook his head. 
 
 " Perhaps later I may have a car of a milder 
 nature. But nothing so flamboyant as that." 
 
 She clapped her hands. 
 
 " Fine," she cried. " I actually believe you are 
 coming around to my way of thinking." 
 
 " I am indeed," he replied. " I want to try to 
 make that fifteen million be a benefit to Prince 
 Charles. Not now, because I want to let the ex- 
 citement over my loss of fortune subside. But later 
 I am going to attempt a few things for the public 
 welfare. I realize that this is a large undertaking 
 and apt to do harm if not handled exactly right. 
 But I feel that my knowledge of people and con- 
 ditions here will enable me to do things so as to be 
 a lasting benefit." 
 
 " I am sure you can," she exclaimed. 
 
 " My ideas on the subject are a little hazy. I have 
 had on my mind the possibility of furnishing electric 
 light and water to the town. I could build the plant 
 and lay the pipe and all the rest of it, and furnish 
 the water and current at cost." 
 
 She nodded. 
 
 " And there is one other great thing needed here," 
 she observed, thoughtfully. 
 
 336
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 " Yes," he said, eagerly. 
 
 " A high school. You will notice that we have no 
 young people in Prince Charles. Our children go 
 away to boarding-school when they are fourteen. 
 And when they come back from college they are 
 twenty-two. And sometimes they do not come 
 back." 
 
 " That is the sort of thing," Morgan exclaimed, 
 " that I want to do." 
 
 " It is a fine work," she cried, excitedly. " But we 
 please excuse me for dragging myself into the 
 scheme " 
 
 " That," he replied, " is the pivotal point of the 
 scheme." 
 
 She laughed. 
 
 " As I was saying, we must be cautious and spend 
 the money only when we are sure we are right. 
 After a few years this community will get to know 
 you have saved some of your former fortune, but 
 you must never let them know how much. They 
 will appreciate it more if they think that what you 
 give comes from a small capital. We must always 
 let every one who wants to subscribe and your share 
 must never be made public." 
 
 "Yes," he said, "and in that way this fifteen 
 337
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 millions ought to be a fund for good through all the 
 rest of my lifetime. It seems now as if I have found 
 the right thing to do with the money. If I disburse 
 fifteen millions' worth of happiness during my life, I 
 feel that I shall have made the best possible use of 
 the fortune." 
 
 " And perhaps," she said, with her adorable smile, 
 " I can go to heaven in your footsteps by virtue of 
 having assisted a little in this great philanthropy." 
 
 " I am sure," he said, " your admission has been 
 arranged for on entirely other grounds." 
 
 With which exchange of civilities they rose from 
 the stone and walked on toward her home. 
 
 338
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV 
 
 MORGAN found great interest in his work at 
 the bank. There were many things to learn, 
 many things to work out, and many things to revise 
 to suit the changed conditions of the community. 
 Land and buildings that had been considered previ- 
 ously as hopeless risks were now good security. He 
 had to get a comprehensive knowledge of the new 
 values, for he was expected to visit and make reports 
 as to the advisability of taking mortgages on various 
 pieces of property, Mr. Rupert had directed the 
 policy of the bank in these matters with such a strong 
 hand, that he practically decided himself who should 
 have money from the bank and who should not. 
 This had been the greatest source of his power and 
 influence. Morgan had little ambition to dominate 
 things to such an extent, but he wanted to be so well 
 posted on land values and on the probability of ap- 
 preciation or depreciation in each locality, that he 
 could make a decision with the least possible chance 
 of error. 
 
 Several farmers had sold their land to rich men 
 339
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 from the north who wished to have show places to 
 come to on occasion. Mrs. Rupert's father was one 
 of these. One day, as an indirect result of this trans- 
 action, he learned from Mrs. Rupert that she and her 
 mother and father were going- to Florida to spend 
 the winter. This was a blow to Morgan. He had 
 never been able to consider Prince Charles apart 
 from Mrs. Rupert. Mrs. Rupert was a part of the 
 institutions of the town. He went with her to the 
 boat the morning she left. And when the clumsy 
 steamer paddled out into the stream, with her trim 
 figure standing in the stern, he felt as if he had been 
 marooned on a desert island. He stood on the dock 
 watching the boat until he could no longer distin- 
 guish her on the deck. 
 
 After that he lost a good deal of his customary 
 buoyancy. His work became his only source of di- 
 version. He would not acknowledge that he missed 
 her. He fought against thinking of her, but in spite 
 of that he did think of her. His companions (for the 
 young men were living with him as before) noticed 
 his abstraction, and put it down to dissatisfaction 
 with his new life. Perkins broached the subject to 
 him one day. 
 
 " Morgan," he said, without any unnecessary beat- 
 
 340
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 ing about the bush, " I think I get you. You're 
 sorry you ever came back." 
 
 The other looked up in surprise. 
 
 " What makes you say that ? " he demanded. 
 
 " You act the part. Now own up. It doesn't 
 seem so fine, does it, now you have to stay here all 
 the time ? " 
 
 " Of course it does," Morgan asserted, indignantly. 
 
 " So you have an idea," remarked Perkins, " that 
 my diagnosis about your being homesick for New 
 York is all bunk." 
 
 " Looks like it. I guess you'll have to try again." 
 
 " Something's wrong, anyway. I haven't seen any 
 real three-ply cheerfulness on your face since you 
 came back." 
 
 " That's responsibility." 
 
 " Responsibility, thunder. You've got that two- 
 by-four bank running like an eight-day clock." 
 
 Morgan thought. 
 
 "What I need," he said, " is exercise." 
 
 " All right. Exercise. Help yourself. Plenty of 
 it lying around." 
 
 "I think it would tune me up." 
 
 " Oh, yes," agreed the other, heartily, " give you 
 an appetite."
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 So Morgan began to take exercise. He walked to 
 and from the bank. He took long walks on Sun- 
 days. And when he got a chance he cut wood. He 
 developed hard muscles and a voracious appetite, 
 but the old enthusiasm did not seem to come back. 
 
 " You've got just about as much bounce in you 
 as a last year's tennis ball," Perkins observed. 
 
 " I know what's the matter with him," cried one 
 of the other men, whose name was Dedrick. 
 
 " Let's have it." 
 
 " He doesn't get his food in the proper propor- 
 tions." 
 
 "What's that idea?" 
 
 " I've been making a study of the thing. No man 
 can be well unless he gets in his food thirty per 
 cent fat, ten per cent protein, and sixty per cent 
 carbohydrates." 
 
 Perkins fell over backward on the sofa. 
 
 " There's your cure, Morgan," he cried. " That's 
 it. Why didn't we think of it before ? " 
 
 " You're supposed to have twenty-five hundred 
 food units every day," went on Dedrick, encouraged, 
 " seven hundred and fifty for breakfast, seven hun- 
 dred and fifty for " 
 
 But Morgan rebelled 
 
 342
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 " Nobody is going to work out my meals by log- 
 arithms," he asserted. " If I have a grouch, it will 
 have to stay. I'll be blest if I know how I contracted 
 it. But no diagrams for my food, please." 
 
 " Then we can't help you," asserted Perkins. 
 
 Morgan laughed and quoted : 
 
 " ' They answered as they took their fees, 
 There is no cure for this disease.' " 
 
 Spring hurried into being. Morgan thought he 
 felt signs of increasing satisfaction with things about 
 him. He went about his work with a new enthusiasm. 
 The blossoms and flowers touched some hidden spot, 
 and for a while he was his old self. But the exhilara- 
 tion did not last long. Morgan was tired physically 
 and mentally tired. He had mistaken his work for 
 recreation and occupation all in one. For six months 
 he had spent on an average of ten or twelve hours 
 daily on business connected with the bank. He was 
 thinner than usual. Dark circles were under his 
 eyes. And one day after a journey in the rain to a 
 farm some miles distant, a tramp over the muddy 
 farm, and a drive back in wet clothes, he found 
 himself unable to get up in the morning. 
 
 They sent for Dr. Torrey. Dr. Torrey said it 
 343
 
 was merely a bad cold, but cautioned the other 
 men in the house that the patient's vitality was very 
 low and he should be watched carefully and not be 
 allowed to get out of his bed. Morgan had no desire 
 to get out of bed. He grew worse instead of better. 
 His temperature went up and stayed up. The men 
 in the house, who were busy all day and hopelessly 
 at a loss to aid him at night, sent for Miss Torrey to 
 come. She took up her abode without hesitation in 
 the house and sat up countless hours with him, try- 
 ing to carry out her brother's instructions and relig- 
 iously making the chart of his fever and pulse, put- 
 ting each figure down with careful exactitude, as if 
 the life of the man depended on the precision of the 
 characters on the chart. 
 
 Morgan was out of his head. He conversed wildly, 
 with imaginary persons. Sometimes he would sit 
 bolt upright in his bed looking about him with un- 
 seeing eyes. He spoke of people and things, and 
 Miss Torrey listened, wondering, until one day he 
 said a name. Thereupon she sat down by his bed- 
 side and, in a painstaking hand with old-fashioned 
 curls and flourishes, wrote a long, rambling letter 
 as rambling almost as Morgan's fever-talk but it 
 had one idea in it and that could not be missed. 
 
 344
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 On the fifth day from that time, Dr. Torrey said 
 the crisis would come. The two men did not go to 
 work at all that day, and Perkins came up from Nor- 
 folk to " lend a hand " in case he was needed. 
 When he arrived, the fever was all gone, and Mor- 
 gan, pale and weak, lay on the bed peacefully sleep- 
 ing. The three men, feeling their uselessness in that 
 room, went out to their work, although they accom- 
 plished little that day. Miss Torrey, tired and hag- 
 gard from loss of sleep, turned over her duties at last 
 to some one else and left the sick room. So it hap- 
 pened when Morgan awoke some hours later, con- 
 scious for the first time in nearly two weeks, the only 
 person he found in the room was Mrs. Rupert 
 
 From that time on he improved rapidly. When 
 the middle of May came, he was sitting out on the 
 lawn in a rolling chair. The color was beginning to 
 come back to his cheeks. The robins and the red- 
 headed wood-peckers and the shrill-voiced blue jays, 
 gathering about him in the trees, made him very 
 glad indeed to be alive. 
 
 " This little Perkins man tells me," said Mrs. Ru- 
 pert one day, " that you have been in low spirits since 
 you came back." 
 
 " Perkins has always insisted that I have been. 
 
 345
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 And," he admitted, " there have been times when I 
 have thought so myself." 
 
 She smiled. 
 
 " And what was the trouble ? " 
 
 " Don't know at all. What do you think ? " 
 
 " Why," she told him, with the calm air of a per- 
 son from whom nothing is concealed, " I know." 
 
 " You know ! " 
 
 He had had a dawning feeling of late that he him- 
 self knew, but it was a vague feeling. She did not tell 
 him the real reason. 
 
 " What you need," she said, " is something to oc- 
 cupy your mind something besides the bank." 
 
 This sounded very sensible. 
 
 " I wonder what ? " he asked. 
 
 " Why," she prescribed, struck with a sudden idea, 
 " why not remodel your house ? That would give 
 you something personal to think about." 
 
 He accepted this idea with enthusiasm, mainly be- 
 cause she suggested it. And, as she had pointed out, 
 it gave him something personal to think about 
 something very personal indeed, for, in planning the 
 remodeling of the house, he did not plan it alone. 
 
 346
 
 CHAPTER XXXV 
 
 WHEN the first of September came, smoke 
 curled out of the sturdy chimney of the new 
 kitchen wing. The whole house had been pointed 
 with wide, white mortar joints, making it look fin- 
 ished and new. The woodwork was smart with new 
 white paint, except for the green shutters at the sec- 
 ond story windows. The shingle roofs were stained 
 a silver-gray, making them seem like a somewhat 
 trimmer reproduction of the old shingles that had 
 aged in the weather for some thirty years. 
 
 The lawn had been graded up to the house so that 
 you stepped out from the brick paved porch to the 
 turf on the same level. Wide, high-ended seats were 
 built against the walls under the porch. 
 
 Within, the living hall was beamed and wainscoted 
 in fumed oak. It was really not fumed oak at all, as 
 it appeared to be the custom in making fumed oak 
 not to fume it. The effect, however, was the same, 
 unless you happened to be curious enough to cut 
 
 347
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 into the woodwork with your penknife, which it is to 
 be presumed you would not do unless you were a 
 very old friend of the family. The great stone faced 
 fireplace would just about have accommodated a 
 railroad tie. All the electric lights were candle- 
 shaped bulbs, set in sconces on the walls and in a 
 chandelier made of the moose antlers, as Morgan 
 had told Mrs. Rupert he wanted it. The leather up- 
 holstered furniture was finished to match the wood- 
 work of the room, and everything was direct and 
 simple as if the spot had been intended as a place to 
 live in. 
 
 Morgan was enthusiastic about the room. The 
 first days after it was finished and furnished, he used 
 to sit down in a comfortable chair and look at it, as 
 he might have looked at the Grand Canon or the 
 Pyramids of Egypt or the Taj Mahal or any other 
 famous scenic wonder. The idea that this was his 
 own place and that it satisfied him perfectly filled 
 him with a pleasant sense of contentment a homely 
 contentment to be sure, but one that was very deep 
 within him. 
 
 " The dining-room," said Mrs. Rupert, " is better." 
 
 This was a natural feeling on her part, as that 
 
 apartment, as well as the kitchen, had been her own 
 
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 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 particular concern. The architect had been discreet 
 enough not to seem to consider it as anything else 
 than natural that she should take a neighborly in- 
 terest in the proposed improvements, and that, being 
 a woman, she should naturally know more about din- 
 ing-rooms and pantries, and kitchens, and closets, 
 and places to put dust-cloths, and the kind of door- 
 knobs that are easiest to clean, and all the important 
 things about a house. Mrs. Rupert had installed 
 every possible improvement in the service end of the 
 house. By a circulating system you could have hot 
 water the instant you turned on the faucet. A ther- 
 mostat regulated the drafts of the range and kept 
 the oven at an even temperature. Ashes were 
 dropped through the floor into the proper place in 
 the basement. Coal was brought up by means of a 
 receptacle operated by electricity, which filled itself 
 with coal and brought it up to the kitchen. 
 
 " Of course," Morgan observed, " these things are 
 very interesting and entertaining, but I doubt if I 
 shall get much satisfaction out of them." 
 
 Mrs. Rupert sighed. 
 
 " Of course not," she returned resignedly. " It 
 makes my heart ache to think of turning over all 
 this to you. A wood cook-stove and a pump on the 
 
 349
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 back porch are all that are necessary for you and the 
 man you will have to take charge of your kitchen." 
 
 " The trouble with me is," said Morgan, " that I 
 need a woman to supervise things." 
 
 Mrs. Rupert nodded energetically. 
 
 " Haven't you a cousin or an aunt of the proper 
 age," she asked gravely, " to undertake it ? " 
 
 " The proper age. Is there a necessary age ? " 
 
 " A person, in order to keep house, should be ad- 
 vanced in years. It requires experience." 
 
 " How old should you say ? Over twenty ? " 
 
 " Over twenty ! " Mrs. Rupert smiled. " Con- 
 siderably. She should be barely able to recall the 
 day she was twenty." 
 
 " That is worse than I had thought," observed 
 Morgan. 
 
 " Well, sir, what is your idea of it ? " 
 
 He thought a moment. 
 
 " It seems to me, after consideration, that she 
 should be less than thirty " 
 
 She flouted that notion. 
 
 " Housekeepers," she insisted, " should be old and 
 ugly and must have rheumatism." 
 
 " I don't propose to pay anything extra for 
 rheumatism." 
 
 350
 
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 She laughed. 
 
 " I am afraid you desire to select your house- 
 keeper for good looks and gracefulness, two 
 attributes absolutely foreign to the nature of 
 housekeepers." 
 
 "Then," returned the young man, after a long 
 pause, " I am of the opinion it is not a housekeeper 
 I want." 
 
 She said nothing. 
 
 " I feel that what I need is some pleasanter sub- 
 stitute." 
 
 She rose and began to adjust the white curtains at 
 the windows, whose length and draping she had 
 been trying to fix. 
 
 " Is there such a thing?" she asked, incredulously. 
 
 " Oh, yes, indeed. And not a new invention, 
 either." 
 
 She took out a couple of pins with which the hem 
 of the curtain had been temporarily fastened. 
 
 "If there is something better," she murmured, 
 " you must get one." 
 
 " The trouble is," he said seriously, " I don't know 
 whether I can or not." 
 
 He strode across the room and put his hands on her 
 shoulders. The fingers that were now putting back
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 the pins stopped their work. Her body was still, as 
 if his touch had deprived her of the power to move. 
 
 " A year ago," he said, in a low tone, " I gave up 
 my life in New York. I gave it up because I wanted 
 to come back to Prince Charles. I thought then 
 that was the only reason. But I have found out 
 since that there was another reason a wonderful, 
 glorious reason that I scarcely dare to speak about 
 for fear that " 
 
 He stopped abruptly. She did not look up, but 
 she could hear his breathing. 
 
 "The reason," he said, just above a whisper, "is 
 that I love you love you like the air I breathe. 
 When you came back in the spring, I found that it 
 was you I wanted, that all the sunshine and sweet- 
 ness of this place were memories of you ; that my 
 illness had not been brought on by lack of vitality 
 but by lack of you Barbara Rupert." 
 
 There was an absolute silence in the room. She 
 raised her eyes slowly until they were level with his 
 own. She put both her hands on the lapels of his 
 coat. 
 
 " Morgan," she breathed, " Morgan." 
 
 That was all. 
 
 But his arms closed about her and held her 
 352
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 tightly to him. For a long while neither of them 
 said a word. Then her eyes filled up and the tears 
 ran down her cheeks. 
 
 " My dear child 1 " 
 
 She dabbed her eyes with her handkerchief. 
 
 " To think of my having to cry," she exclaimed, 
 "and spoil my good looks. But I am so happy. 
 And I thought this would never happen for us." 
 
 In the far distance they heard the toot of the horn 
 of the new automobile mail-stage. 
 
 " I am glad the old stage does not run now," she 
 said, irrelevantly. " I remember one evening not 
 quite a year ago when the stage went away and I 
 thought I was never to see you again." 
 
 Her mind went back to the picture of the white 
 road in the falling dusk, with the slow-moving stage 
 inching along upon it toward the black pine trees in 
 the distance, coming inevitably nearer and nearer, 
 until it and with it everything was blotted out be- 
 hind them. She caught his hand now. 
 
 " That was an unhappy time," she cried, " for 
 Barbara." 
 
 He was silent for a long while. 
 
 " There are two improvements," he said, " over 
 the old stage." 
 
 353
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE 
 
 " What are they ? " she asked, looking up 
 brightly. 
 
 " First, it runs by gasoline." 
 
 She nodded. 
 
 " And secondly," he said, " when I go away in it 
 now, I shall not be compelled to go without " 
 
 She caught his face in her hands. 
 
 " If you are about to mention a lady's name," she 
 cried, adorably, " think well. And be sure you are 
 right." 
 
 He paused, but not to think. 
 
 " Without," he said, audaciously, " Barbara Holt." 
 
 They stood for a long while by the open window. 
 The yellow evening sun fell on the road that stretched 
 away from them down to the shining water. And it 
 seemed that they were looking down a golden road 
 that stretched pleasantly before them into the rose- 
 tinted future the golden road of love and usefulness 
 and happiness. 
 
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