A 
 A MI 
 
 
 L.L.
 
 filY. OF CALIF. LIBRARY, LOS ANGELES
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE
 
 A MILLION A 
 MINUTE 
 
 A ROMANCE OF MODERN 
 NEW YORK AND PARIS 
 
 BY 
 
 HUDSON DOUGLAS 
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS BY WILL GREFE 
 
 New York 
 GROSSET & DUNLAP 
 
 Publishers 
 
 A 
 
 4 
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 COPYRIGHT, 1908 
 W. J. WATT & COMPANY 
 
 September
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 QUAINTANCE OPENS A NEW ACCOUNT WITH FATE AT THE 
 NIGHT AND DAY BANK 
 
 ON a mellow afternoon in late Fall, the gardens of 
 Madison Square were all aglow, like a monstrous pa- 
 lette : flower-beds and foliage, at their most brilliant, a 
 blend of such living tints as no mere earthly artist may; 
 ever attain. 
 
 Quaintance, looking out on the enlivening scene 
 for the first time after long, weary years of exile, con- 
 scious that nowhere in all his wanderings had he found 
 outlook so thoroughly to his liking, paused in the pil- 
 lared porch of the Fifth Avenue Hotel to drink it in 
 at his leisure and in more detail. 
 
 The dry, rustling leaves were letting long shafts of 
 light through or cast dancing shadows across the trim, 
 verdant turf close bordered by low benches all black 
 with the flotsam of the busy city. The paved walks, 
 patterned in arabesque upon the green, rang with the 
 cries of children at their play. The pulsing fountain 
 in their midst threw up with rhythmic regularity a 
 sparkling silver column, which broke, and fell back, 
 like liquid diamonds. The air was like new wine.
 
 14 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 A gentle breeze was tempering to genial warmth 
 the sunshine streaming from an azure sky studded with 
 cool, pure clouds which hung there motionless. The 
 many-colored unequal buildings, cupola, tower, or 
 square, flat roof, which rise or squat with such be- 
 wildering effect against the blue, had all been scrubbed 
 clean by the recent rain. The white bulk of the Flat- 
 iron loomed loftily above its lesser neighbors, one 
 shoulder turned contemptuously towards its infinitely 
 loftier successor in the race to reach the clouds. 
 
 About its base the traffic surged in swirling eddies, 
 splitting to right and left along the canons of Fifth 
 Avenue and Broadway, spreading to east and west 
 across the city, or rolling in a widening wave upon the 
 Square, according to the dictates of the autocrats in 
 uniform responsible for its direction. As these waved 
 white-gloved hands, blew whistles, brandished flags, 
 the surface cars clanked through the maelstrom with 
 gongs clanging, motors and cabs and carriages accu- 
 mulated in deep ranks or spurted on their way, while 
 anxious-eyed pedestrains risked life and limb amongst 
 them, progressed from point to point by reckless 
 rushes. 
 
 At the Bartholdi corner newsboys were shouting ex- 
 tras, ami a big observation car, crowded with sight- 
 seers, was in the act of starting, its cicerone, armed 
 with a raucous megaphone, pleading for still more pas- 
 sengers. The hoarse honk-honk of motor horns blended 
 with the shrill bells of swift electric coupes. The cease- 
 less hum of human voices was like a vast hive of rest- 
 less bees. 
 
 The tin-pan tinkle of a street piano, attempting 
 "Dixie" came thinly through the tramp of feet innum-
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 5 
 
 erable from the near kerb. The watcher's heart 
 warmed to the old-time melody, and the deep breath he 
 drew was one of such contentment as he had been 
 stranger to for long. 
 
 He could still count the days which had elapsed 
 since his release from the stark, deathlike silences and 
 gloom of that grey jungleland wherein all he had been 
 lay buried. That which he had borne there, in solitude, 
 had bred in him a hungry, vehement desire to mix 
 again among his fellowmen, to see and hear and feel 
 for himself that the world was not all one forlorn, sun- 
 sick waste of swamp and mangrove. 
 
 Only an hour ago he had stepped ashore from an 
 African steamer, and even on the voyage across he had 
 not, somehow, managed to shake off the consciousness 
 of isolation from his kind. The sea had seemed almost 
 as empty and! mysterious as the dark land he had left 
 behind him. But now, at last, he could realize that the 
 past had been but a dreary nightmare, out of which he 
 had awakened to a new day, among his home-folk, 
 sane, safe, and sound. And the sense of close com- 
 panionship with the brisk, bustling throng about him, 
 the quick staccato of their curtailed speech, the evi- 
 dence on all hands that he was once more but an un- 
 considered unit among the millions, were beyond 
 words comforting to him. 
 
 He smiled to think of the dark fears which had op- 
 pressed him, and, stepping down into the street, turned 
 slowly northward. 
 
 "The Night and Day Bank will probably serve my 
 turn," he opined, and laid a hand on one waistcoat- 
 pocket to ascertain that its contents were still secure. 
 
 "No, I don't want a cab, confound you ! I'm going
 
 6 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 to walk. I want to rub shoulders with other people : I 
 want them to jostle me, just to make sure that this isn't 
 all make-believe. It seems almost too good to be true. 
 And it's such ages since I've set foot on a street that 
 I've got to find out again what it's like to travel along a 
 sidewalk. I've all sorts of things to see, too/'' 
 
 He waved away the prowling hansom whose driver 
 had hailed him, and sauntered up Fifth Avenue, in a 
 most complaisant humor. 
 
 Many changes had taken place along that fashion- 
 able thoroughfare during his sojourn in strange lands. 
 He was amazed to see the inroads made by business in- 
 terests on what had formerly been the best residential 
 section of the city, and halted every now and then at 
 some remembered site, of altered aspect. He felt much 
 like a Rip Van Winkle there, and, as it happened, that 
 did not displease him. It suited his intentions perfectly 
 that those who glanced his way should set him down a 
 stranger in the great metropolis. He was above all 
 things desirous to go about his own business unrecog- 
 nized, and since no one but himself knew that he was 
 still alive, had no ambition of undeceiving the ignorant. 
 
 At thought of his absolute independence he smiled 
 again, and so openly that two or three of the passersby 
 turned to look back at him over their shoulders. 
 
 Stephen Quaintance was good to look at, a tall, 
 broad-shouldered young man, well set up, of easy car- 
 riage. His regular, clean-cut features bore the in- 
 definable stamp of birth and breeding, despite the dark 
 tan which proclaimed that he had been roughing it, the 
 all too prominent cheek bones which told their own 
 tale of scanty supplies. An unassuming assumption of 
 quiet self-confidence sat well upon him. Women
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 7 
 
 as well as men would have trusted themselves implicitly 
 to the safe-keeping of an intangible something in his 
 direct and level regard. 
 
 Thin as he was, he filled to perfection his well cut suit 
 of blue serge, and lost nothing by contrast with the 
 sleek, pale-faced, clubmen, out in force at that hour, to 
 air extravagant fashions on their daily promenade. 
 That he was not of the elect may easily be deduced 
 from the fact that he was still wearing a straw hat, but, 
 none the less, he caught the eyes of more than one fair 
 maiden cast careless-curiously in his direction as he 
 strolled slowly uptown: and put his unusual concious- 
 ness of that down to the fact that it was overlong since 
 he had seen so many well groomed and good-looking 
 girls all at the same time. 
 
 He was, as aforesaid, of a sufficiently modest if not 
 exactly diffident nature. Had he been told that his own 
 steadfast eyes, slightly melancholy, and, to all outward 
 seeming, somewhat indifferent, were yet of the most 
 magnetic, that he was of a personality too distinctive to 
 escape altogether such flattering attentions as these, he 
 would have laughed amusedly and thought his inform- 
 ant a fool. His lines had fallen chiefly in places where 
 a man's eyes attract no particular notice except when 
 in close connection with the sights of a loaded gun, 
 where a nimble trigger-finger is of far greater account 
 than appearance. So while each pretty face he passed 
 met with his warmest approval, its interest was im- 
 personal and mingled with many others. In his sight 
 they were collective, and not individual. No one of 
 them had the power to hasten his heart's beat by so 
 much as a single throb. 
 
 He was, notwithstanding, sufficiently grateful to
 
 8 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 such of them as favored him with their shy regard. It 
 did him no harm and a great deal of good to feel that 
 he might still pass muster among the bejewelled and 
 gilded youths lifting their glossy hats so assiduously 
 as carriage succeeded carriage in the apparently end- 
 less procession on the long hill. It even awoke in his 
 mind, among other and equally vagrant ideas, some 
 vague, half-humorous speculation as to whether he 
 should not himself, one of these days, open a new ac- 
 count with fate, and, drawing on that, start out in quest 
 of his own ideal. 
 
 He was free to do so. He might perhaps find among 
 all those beauties in silks and laces the living embodi- 
 ment of that dear dream-maiden who still stood to him 
 for abstract type of her sex. 
 
 Quaintance was no idle sentimentalist, but, like most 
 men who have led lonely lives, he had, at his leisure, 
 fashioned for himself an idol of that sort, and much 
 more angelic than human. Like not a few lonely men 
 he had yet to pay the purchase price of experience. It 
 would go the harder with him, then, if fate should or- 
 dain that his idol, embodied, lack wings. 
 
 But, fate and Fifth Avenue! What combination 
 could be more incongruous? And what had he, a hard- 
 ened adventurer, to do with these dainty, delicate 
 damsels, whose happy lives had been such an obvious 
 contrast to his. 
 
 Fate and Fifth Avenue ! He had almost laughed 
 aloud, so laughable did the conjunction appear to him. 
 And, when he turned at the top of the hill to look back, 
 the long, crowded vista there so delighted him that he 
 straightway forgot all else. It seemed as though he 
 could never descry enough of that crowded city. When
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 9 
 
 he once more faced about it was almost reluctantly, 
 and five minutes later he came within sight of the bank. 
 
 A cross-town car had fouled a laden wagon at 
 Forty-second street, and the smooth stream of traffic 
 thus interrupted, its backwash was already blocking 
 the avenue. In front of the Night and Day Bank a 
 choked congestion of foot-passengers was shuffling im- 
 patiently, fretted by the sudden sense of restraint thus 
 imposed upon them. Quaintance suffered the closer 
 contact of his near neighbors with unruffled equanim- 
 ity, and was pushed aside, uncomplaining, by those in 
 more haste than himself. 
 
 Progressing impatiently, step by step, he had almost 
 reached his objective when the blockade broke and the 
 stream flowed on again, urgent, impetuous, with added 
 weight. Edging through it toward the bank, his er- 
 rant glance was arrested and held, for a moment, 
 by a face which had come through the doorway, 
 and passed him at speed, to be swallowed up instan- 
 taneously in the dense, moving mass of humanity on 
 the broad sidewalk. 
 
 "The deuce!" said Quaintance, and stopped short, 
 struggling to hold his own there against the oncome of 
 others. 
 
 "The deuce !" said he, and turned, as speedily as he 
 might in the press, prodigiously anxious to find out 
 which way she had gone. But he could by no means 
 discover again the girl who, save but for the shimmer 
 of unshed tears in her eyes, was outwardly even as he 
 had imagined his ideal of girlhood. 
 
 He hung on one heel indeterminately, and underwent 
 then all the jostling he could have desired. But he 
 was as indifferent to that as to the objurgations of other
 
 io A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 pedestrians who had made up their own minds where 
 they wanted to go. He could not immediately judge 
 whether it would be better to go north, or south, in 
 pursuit, was more than a little bewildered by the 
 strange sensation which had so assailed him at sight of 
 her. 
 
 And, when he at length hurried first south, then 
 north, all his late efforts proved futile. Fate, instant, 
 insistent, had bided its time, shot its bolt, and gone 
 back into hiding. 
 
 He came to a halt at a cross street corner, and 
 stared very vexedly up and down. He was no longer 
 so well disposed toward his fellowmen, that multitude 
 in whose midst he had lost all trace of the face which 
 had come 'twixt himself and his careless content with 
 circumstances. The next who pushed past him was 
 strongly repelled, and after an irate glance of appraisal, 
 went his way more carefully, muttering. 
 
 "The deuce!" said Quaintance for the third time, a 
 faint smile effacing the frown on his forehead as he 
 saw the other look back loweringly. "I seem to be 
 making myself unpopular. What in creation's come 
 over me ?" 
 
 But no one answered his inquiry. The brownstone 
 fagade of the house before him met his gaze with 
 blank, secretive indifference. On every side he was 
 hemmed in by high walls, all equally impenetrable. 
 
 The thought of the teeming city brought him now 
 only a sense of oppression and loneliness, an under- 
 standing that all about him, while he saw nothing, there 
 were in progress those myriad mysteries which make 
 up what men call life. He was overcome by a most dis-
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE n 
 
 concerting certainty that he had somehow made a fool 
 of himself. 
 
 "Confound it !" he rapped out wrathfully, "I must be 
 wrong in the head. I don't know how else I came to be 
 here, chasing round after a strange girl like a stray 
 Bedlam when I ought to be at the bank." 
 
 He wheeled about and strode down the avenue very 
 determinedly. It was surely absurd and impossible to 
 allow any such fugitive glimpse of a face, no matter 
 how fair, to interfere with his own hard-won peace of 
 mind. He resolutely strove to erase its blurred outline 
 from his memory, to dismiss from his mind all recollec- 
 tion of its misty, sea-sweet eyes. He was no gallant 
 
 adventurer among women The girl could be 
 
 nothing to him 
 
 And, although he lingered a little as he passed the 
 spot from which he had seen her, when he at last en- 
 tered the Night and Day Bank, it was with his old- 
 good-humored, leisurely air of detachment from diffi- 
 culty. As far as his outward appearance went he had 
 not a care in the world. 
 
 The process of opening an account there was not un- 
 duly lengthy or complicated. He had neither introduc- 
 tion nor references, but he had, what was probably more 
 to the point, negotiable sight drafts for a very satisfac- 
 tory sum. The Night and Day Bank asked him two 
 or three pertinent questions, and undertook to collect 
 that for him, which done he would be welcome to call 
 for a check-book at his convenience. It also requested 
 that he record his signature in its registers for future 
 reference. 
 
 He did so, subscribing himself in a bold hand, "A. 
 Newman," endorsed the drafts, in the same name, and,
 
 12 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 having laid down the pen, produced from a waistcoat- 
 pocket a small chamois-leather case. 
 
 "I'd like to leave this with you too," he said care- 
 lessly to the banker, who raised his eyebrows in quick 
 surprise when he saw what the case contained. 
 
 "My dear Mr. Newman!" he protested gravely. 
 "You surely don't realize the risk you run in carrying 
 such valuables loose in your pockets. The least skilful 
 thief on Fifth Avenue might easily have relieved you 
 of them and you no doubt came through the crowd 
 with your coat wide open? It's very evident that 
 you're a newcomer in New York !" 
 
 His client smiled pleasantly. 
 
 "I've carried them loose in my pockets for over a 
 year," he asserted, "and in much more dangerous 
 places than Fifth Avenue. But the main point is that 
 they're safely here, and here I want them to stay if 
 you'll keep them for me. There are only two, and I'll 
 take your receipt for a stated value of forty thousand 
 apiece, if you're agreeable." 
 
 "They're worth more than that, of course," said the 
 banker, examining with critical acumen the lambent, 
 rose-colored stones which Quaintance had pushed 
 across to him, and their owner nodded. 
 
 "Yes, a good deal more," he agreed easily. 
 
 "We'll put them in safe deposit for you, Mr. New- 
 man," suggested the man of money, and so it was set- 
 tled. The two rose-diamonds were thus securely be- 
 stowed, and Mr. "Newman," having pocketed the key 
 to their situation, and promised to look in again at an 
 early date, departed, on the best of terms with the 
 Night and Day Bank and himself. It was no slight 
 relief to be rid of the care of his assets in life, and, for
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 13 
 
 all his nonchalance, the safeguarding of these had cost 
 him some anxious moments since he had acquired them. 
 He was also pleased that the name he had given had 
 passed unchallenged, and the facility with which it 
 had been accepted encouraged him to believe that his 
 old identity was by so much the more safely interred 
 with the past. 
 
 "So, let's see," he said very cheerfully to himself as 
 he left the highly respectable institution which would 
 presently be in a position to vouch for his new one, 
 "Let's see about something to eat and drink, some- 
 where not too dull. I want to wash the taste of frozen 
 ship's-food out of my mouth, and my first meal ashore 
 might as well be an eatable one. 
 
 " 'Mr. Newman's' health in a bottle of sparkling Bur- 
 gundy, at some cool spot on the seashore of Bohemia, 
 would just about fill the bill. And we'll reach that part 
 of the world along the Rialto, if I haven't lost all sense 
 of locality. This crowd's too correct to amuse me to- 
 night " 
 
 He thought once more and for the last time, as he 
 boarded a Forty-second street car, of the girl with the 
 troubled eyes he had seen on Fifth Avenue. 
 
 "I wish she had just looked round," he concluded re- 
 gretfully, and dropped off at the corner of Broadway. 
 "But it's too late now to mourn over that mischance. 
 Fate and Fifth Avenue have been too much for me 
 after all. I don't believe I'd know her again if I saw 
 her." 
 
 He laughed inwardly. 
 
 " 'Romance is dead/ " said he to himself. "What an 
 ass I am !" 
 
 Broadway was no less busy than Fifth Avenue, and
 
 14 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 Quaintance, once more in the mood to enjoy its kaleid- 
 oscopic variety, strolled down the Street of Illusions, 
 regarding its denizens and their doings with admiration 
 unfailing. 
 
 He brushed shoulders with blue-shaven actors and 
 smart soubrettes, inhaled an atmosphere of patchouli 
 and cheap cigarettes, was well content to mix with the 
 mob, to yield precedence to those with less time to 
 spare than himself. The spectacle of the rush hour at 
 Herald Square afforded him great gratification. He 
 took a grave interest in all the up-to-date window dis- 
 plays he passed. Sometimes he thought of purchasing, 
 for the sake of a new sensation, but wisely refrained. 
 As dusk began to come down, and the blaze that is 
 Broadway's boast was deftly switched on, he called to 
 mind many nights he had spent in Africa without so 
 much as a fire for light and company, and the present 
 contrast was by so much the more acceptable. He 
 jingled his loose change joyously and was glad of the 
 glare. 
 
 He caught sight of a well-known actress in her coupe, 
 and she caught sight of him simultaneously. He saw 
 her lips part in a faint half-smile as she dropped her 
 eyes, and at the same moment a flashily-dressed indi- 
 vidual descended upon him from the steps of a hotel 
 much frequented by sportsmen of a certain calibre. 
 
 "Hello, Cap!" began that ill-advised follower of the 
 chase, accommodating his steps to Quaintance's, "I'm 
 a stranger in town like yourself, and 
 
 Quaintance stopped. So did the stranger. Their 
 glances crossed, and it was the confidence man's that 
 shifted uneasily. He drew back with a premonition of 
 evil impending as his proposed victim spoke.
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 15 
 
 "You're a stranger in town, are you?" Quaintance 
 retorted softly. "Then take my advice and get back to 
 where you belong before anything unpleasant happens 
 to you." 
 
 He waited to see that this prescription was faithfully 
 followed, and, after the other had slunk away without 
 so much as a muttered curse, pursued his own path, 
 his features composed to a more decorous gravity. He 
 had gathered that his expression must have been rather 
 too radiant for that observant locality. 
 
 And the policeman who had observed trTe incident 
 from his post at the corner nodded to himself as he re- 
 marked, sotto voce, 
 
 "He's wise to be a walkin' danger-sign, for all his 
 glad looks. Slim Jake got his dose straight, an' swal- 
 lowed it too, like a lamb. Them mild-mannered-lookin' 
 guys ain't always the safest to tackle, I've noticed, an' 
 Jake has more luck as a rule when it comes to a bad 
 man from Oshkosh, a reg'lar fire-eater achin' to shoot 
 up the town." 
 
 With which professional application of the old axiom 
 that still waters run deep he passed on to other inter- 
 ests, while the object of his encomium turned into a 
 neighboring cafe. 
 
 The opulent bar-keeper there was obliging enough 
 to mix him a dry Manhattan, and he found the flavor 
 of that quite equal to his long cherished anticipation. 
 But the appointments of the place were not to his taste 
 of the moment, and he did not stay there to dine as he 
 had half intended. There was too much marble and 
 brass about it, he thought, an air of garish prosperity 
 too pronounced for the real purlieus of Bohemia. He 
 lighted a cigarette, and always drifting down-town,
 
 16 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 turned into a barber's : not so much for the sake of the 
 shave, which he did not need, as to rid himself of the 
 outwardly dusty sensation induced by his pilgrimage. 
 
 To the easy conversationalist who attended him 
 there he outlined his theory as to dinner, and asked 
 advice. He was possessed of a little devil of lazy irre- 
 sponsibility, was disinclined to think for himself. And 
 the man proved equal to the occasion. He did not con- 
 fuse his client with any choice. 
 
 "You can't do better than dip into Martin's," he said 
 without undue deliberation, and Quaintance at once 
 decided to do so. The whole of New York was at his 
 disposal, but he would most certainly dip into Martin's 
 since it had been thus ordained that he should. The 
 very expression appealed to him. It savored of the 
 lucky-bag life had lately become. He rose, refreshed, 
 and, having rewarded his counsellor with a liberal tip, 
 went on toward Martin's. 
 
 He only stopped by the way to buy a flower for his 
 buttonhole, again to have his cigar-case refilled, and a 
 third time to purchase an evening paper for which he 
 paid its crippled and ragged vendor a dollar. 
 
 But he had both time and money to spare. The past 
 was dead, well buried, and all but forgotten. The fu- 
 ture, the roseate future, was his to do what he would 
 with. He had opened a new account with fate, could 
 draw on that at his own discretion. 
 
 "And now I'll dip into Martin's," said he, with a nod 
 to the deferential doorman.
 
 CHAPTER II 
 MADEMOISELLE CREATES A SENSATION AT MARTIN'S 
 
 It was not yet seven o'clock, but Martin's was full, 
 full to overflowing. The vestibule was crowded and 
 every interior corner seemed to be occupied. There 
 were even people waiting without, apparently in the 
 hope that some early departure might make accommo- 
 dation for them. 
 
 Quaintance threaded his way through the outer 
 throng, disposed of his coat and hat to a busy boy, and 
 was looking casually round the brilliantly lighted rooms 
 in search of a seat when a brisk attendant bustled up 
 to suggest that there might still perhaps be room for 
 one more upstairs. 
 
 "I don't want to dine upstairs," he returned affably, 
 drawing the man out of earshot of his near neighbors. 
 "I want you to set me a place down here a small, 
 round table for two and no more, up against the wall. 
 And you'll see that no one takes the second seat except 
 by my invitation." 
 
 The man looked at him, a little doubtfully, since he 
 could not recognize as one entitled to any such extra 
 consideration this masterful stranger who issued 
 orders on the apparent assumption that they would at 
 once be complied with. But certain coins were already 
 clinking pleasantly in his palm. The stranger's eyes 
 had grown ominous over his hesitation. He became 
 
 17
 
 18 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 imbued with an earnest desire to carry these orders out, 
 with the gratifying result that his unknown patron 
 almost immediately found himself settled as he had de- 
 sired, while a hungry gathering in the doorway re- 
 garded him with wrathful astonishment. 
 
 Quaintance once more bade him safeguard the spare 
 chair from thoughtless intruders, and, having escaped 
 the tedium of picking and choosing from the 
 bill of fare by the simple expedient of giving him 
 carte blanche for the best dinner Martin's could pro- 
 vide, unfolded his paper. 
 
 "Tell the chef it's quality I want, not quantity," he re- 
 quested, and glanced idly through the headlines while 
 the now obsequious waiter went off in haste to execute 
 his commission. But he found in the pink sheet no 
 news of particular interest to him, and laid it aside again 
 in favor of an unobtrusive survey of the assemblage 
 about him. 
 
 It seemed that Martin's clientele consisted chiefly of 
 such as find savor in life and do not disdain to express 
 their enjoyment thereof. There was no restraint or 
 stiffness about their actions, no rigid etiquette save 
 that of everyday use and acceptance. They had come 
 thither to dine at their ease and make merry. They 
 did so. 
 
 There were actors and artists, musicians and authors, 
 among them: idlers and business men, representatives 
 of the professions, fortunate race-track followers: a 
 mixed and cosmopolitan gathering, all outwardly gay 
 dogs and good fellows. The womenfolk they had with 
 them were almost without exception young, and, to be 
 trite, good looking. 
 
 The hum of their cheerful intercourse, punctuated by
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 19 
 
 the popping of corks, the clink of ice in fragile glass- 
 ware, the subdued clatter of crockery, the obligate of 
 knives and forks, filled every corner of the cool rooms. 
 The echoes of men's mirth and women's light laughter 
 blended with these in a harmonious whole, the keynote 
 to which all moods were attuned. 
 
 Quaintance was well satisfied with his surroundings. 
 He saw that he had come out on the seashore of Upper 
 Bohemia, that fashionable resort where it is always sun- 
 shine and summer, where night is even as day. He 
 felt glad that the friendly barber had diagnosed his de- 
 sires so felicitously. And, when soup was brought, he 
 bethought himself of his Burgundy. 
 
 He held a brief consultation with the willing waiter, 
 who hurried and came back bearing carefully a long 1 
 basket in which rested a cob-webbed bottle. Two 
 glasses were set, one by the empty chair, and into that 
 at his elbow trickled a ruby liquor, the very life-blood 
 of grapes grown in the far Cote d'Or. 
 
 He lifted it meditatively. 
 
 "Your good health, Newman," said he to himself, 
 his face expressionless. "Here's luck to you, my young 
 friend. I hope you and I'll get on together. 
 
 "Good-bye, old Quaintance. You've done for 
 yourself. You always were a quixotic fool, and I've 
 no more use for you. I hope I'll never hear of you 
 again." 
 
 Then he sat back with a care-free, whimsical smile, 
 a new man by virtue of his sel-f-baptism, idly observ- 
 ant, in vein for any adventure. 
 
 "I don't think, on the whole, though, that I'd bring 
 my maiden aunt here if I had one," he soliloquized, 
 frowning in sympathy with a fair dame whose escort
 
 20 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 had usurped a waiter's function and was in trouble with 
 the wire of a quart-bottle of champagne. 
 
 "It's more of a place for the kind that have cut their 
 eye-teeth like you and I, eh, Newman ? The seashore 
 of Bohemia, where people bathe in Perrier-Jouet, is 
 only safe for the sophisticated. Look at that scoundrel ! 
 He's ruined her outfit." 
 
 Such was indeed the case. Cork and champagne had 
 come forth simultaneously, drenching the luckless 
 couple opposite. 
 
 The man flushed scarlet at the overt laughter which 
 greeted the ludicrous upshot of his foolish effort, but 
 his unfortunate partner made shift to smile bravely 
 across at him as she shook her head. Her thin gown 
 was soaked through, and nothing would serve to efface 
 the results of the deluge she had undergone. She 
 whispered something to him, and quietly withdrew. 
 He called for his check, and followed her, somewhat 
 shamefacedly. 
 
 Quaintance looked elsewhere as each in turn went 
 past him toward the door, and, when he glanced that 
 way again, subconsciously aware of some sensation in 
 the atmosphere, saw that the vacant table was once 
 more occupied. The spoon he was lifting to his lips 
 stayed suspended in mid-air while he also stared at the 
 two who had just sat down 
 
 Outside, on Fifth Avenue, a hansom went whirling 
 past the scintillant windows with very audible clatter 
 and jingle. A surface-car came thundering up Broad- 
 way and stopped at Twenty-sixth street with a great 
 grinding of brakes, its noisome progress accentuating 
 the instant of hush within. 
 
 A waiter came bustling into the room, breathless,
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 21 
 
 important, dish-laden, and its effervescent gaiety began 
 to froth and bubble again, the spell which had caused 
 its brief suspension thus speedily broken. 
 
 Quaintance set down his spoon, and scowled in ab- 
 ject disgust with himself. He had surely, he thought, 
 come back to civilization a boor as well as a fool that he 
 should behave so. Beneath his breath he banned the 
 over-attentive waiter, now at his elbow, and, having 
 helped himself to the proffered food, sat trifling with 
 it till he deemed it safe to adventure a second recon- 
 naissance of the newcomers. 
 
 One of them was a man, but his back was toward 
 Quaintance, who, none the less, knew instinctively that 
 he was not a likeable fellow. He was short, thick-set, 
 close-cropped after the French fashion: well-clothed 
 yet ill-dressed : over-ornamented, from the frogged and 
 fur-lined coat he had cast aside to the stubby, plebeian 
 white ringers so carefully poised from the elbow to show 
 off far too many rings. 
 
 The other, a girl, was seated opposite Quaintance 
 and facing him from across the room. Her glance had 
 met his, although for no more than the merest fraction 
 of a single second, as she had sunk into her chair, and 
 within that infinitesimal space of time he had recog- 
 nized her again. She had flushed shrinkingly as the 
 long lashes had dropped to curtain her dark, troubled 
 eyes, the same sweet eyes he had looked into on the 
 steps of the Night and Day Bank. 
 
 He swore at himself a second time for a fool and a 
 boor because it might have been his over-curious stare 
 which had occasioned her discomfiture. The fact that 
 most of his neighbors were still, either furtive or 
 frankly, admiring the fair cause of his self-condemna-
 
 '22 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 tion was no excuse for his own misconduct, and not 
 until everyone seemed to have satisfied his or her some- 
 what inquisitive interest in the outwardly incompatible 
 pair did he once more look up from his plate. He too 
 had been trying to think what such a girl as that could 
 have in common with such a one as he of the fur and 
 frogs. 
 
 She was dressed in a suit so perfectly tailored that 
 even a man could tell it had come from Paris. Her 
 hat was equally simple and costly. She had divested 
 herself of a grey squirrel coat, a pair of grey motor- 
 gauntlets. The hands she had folded upon the table 
 before her were bare of rings, and she wore no other 
 jewelry except a pin in the scarf at her throat. 
 
 She was assuredly not of the soi-disant smart set. 
 The studied plainness of her apparel was somehow dis- 
 tinctive in Martin's, and, in conjunction with her most 
 daintily moulded, shapely proportions, her fair face 
 crowned with a close-prisoned wealth of resplendent 
 hair, had won her the quick attention of that little 
 world. Quaintance could by no means conceive what 
 she was doing there. 
 
 That she was ill at ease and in unaccustomed sur- 
 roundings was self-evident. But her set lips bespoke 
 the resolve to endure, and she made no demur when 
 the man with her roughly bade their waiter fill her 
 glass, after she had refused the wine offered her. She 
 even sipped a drop or two in proof of complaisance, and 
 listened uncomplainingly to the low, grumbling mono- 
 logue the other kept up throughout their meal. Quaint- 
 ance longed for the faintest shadow of any pretext to 
 take him outside and break his neck for him, but was 
 denied all such pleasant opportunity. Which served
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 23 
 
 him as excuse for solacing himself with still more fre- 
 quent glances at the girl. 
 
 Quaintance was no gallant adventurer with women. 
 In the beginning he had been disquieted by the strange 
 interest this one had aroused in him, had sought to 
 stifle it still-born. But now 
 
 Regarding her again, unseen, from under level eye- 
 brows, no less perturbed, dimly cognizant of some 
 crisis, he was demanding of himself where and how he 
 might see more of her. 
 
 It would go hard with him if he could not accomplish 
 that, but he was not lacking in self-confidence. Un- 
 der his outwardly listless, indifferent manner he was 
 most purposeful, always alert and resolute when the 
 time came to clear for action. 
 
 But he soon gave himself up, for the present, to a 
 satisfied approval of fate's ordinance, that fate at which 
 he had so lately laughed in light disdain, a fate fair- 
 faced, sweet-scented, rustlingly arrayed in silk beneath 
 her well-fitting suit. 
 
 She had not looked his way again, but he could 
 wait. She wore no rings. 
 
 His own meal at an end, he ordered coffee, a special 
 brew to be made according to methods imparted to him 
 by a merchant from Mocha whom he had met on his 
 travels, and while that was being prepared at Mar- 
 tin's one may order a roc's egg, if one cares to pay for it 
 lit a Havana. Through its thin blue curtain of smoke 
 he could scan his enchantress more closely, safe in 
 the knowledge that she was keeping her own eyes 
 under the closest control. 
 
 He was, therefore, in no small degree disconcerted 
 when she quietly raised them, and thus became aware
 
 24 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 of his inexcusable scrutiny. He reddened, furious with 
 himself, and puffed a cloud under cover of which he 
 shifted his glance to the furthest extremity of the room. 
 That involved him anew in misfortune, for, when he 
 hazarded a fresh offence, it was only to find her com- 
 panion upon the point of departure, while he was still 
 waiting his coffee, and had his check to settle. His 
 waiter was also most annoyingly absent. 
 
 They rose and turned from their table, which was 
 at once pounced upon and carried away along with 
 their chairs to be added to the accommodation prepar- 
 ing for a large party of late arrivals. Their waiter 
 came running up with their check, and with him the 
 man, somewhat flushed with wine, became involved in 
 some petty dispute which shortly, however, assumed 
 proportions so serious that the manager was hurriedly 
 sent for. The girl and he stood there waiting, while 
 the other diners regarded them curiously. 
 
 " Attendcz-moi i^i," he said to her suddenly, in harsh 
 French. "Don't dare to move till I come back," and 
 set off, rather unsteadily, in the wake of the waiter. 
 
 She stood where she was, quite still, cynosure of not 
 a few disparaging feminine glances, till Quaintance 
 sprang to his feet, white with anger against the man, 
 against his own absent waiter, against himself. He 
 turned toward her the empty chair set on two legs 
 against his table, and, bowing, begged that she would 
 avail herself of it. She bent her head in return, but 
 without a word, and sat down, one shoulder toward him 
 as he reseated himself. 
 
 Her perfect profile expressed no undue embarrass- 
 ment. Her sweet lips were still set and steady, the long 
 lashes shut in the trouble her eyes might otherwise
 
 AND BOWING, BEGGED THAT SHE WOULD AVAiL HERSELF OF IT 
 
 Page 24
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 25 
 
 have betrayed. She had accepted his trifling service 
 at what is was worth, and, although he was very ur- 
 gently anxious to proffer such further efforts on her 
 behalf as she might have use for, he found a not un- 
 natural difficulty in broaching any other subject. She 
 was a gentlewoman, no matter how anomalous the posi- 
 tion in which she found herself, and he could not but 
 feel that she would be amply justified in snubbing any 
 advances on his part. While he hesitated, at loss 
 for suitable speech, the Frenchman returned, trium- 
 phant, his point gratuitously conceded in order to get 
 rid of him. 
 
 "Allans" he ordered abruptly, and she rose in strange 
 obedience, bent her head still more slightly to Quaint- 
 ance, and so departed in wake of her cavalier, who had 
 been favoring him with a furtive, suspicious scowl. 
 Quaintance had only refrained for her sake from call- 
 ing him to account for that, as he would dearly have 
 liked to do, and, swallowing his chagrin under the ne- 
 cessity for immediate action otherwise, made Martin's 
 ring with demands for his waiter, who presently ambled 
 toward him in pained astonishment to announce that 
 the coffee was not quite ready. 
 
 "The deuce with the coffee and you too!" com- 
 mented his irate customer. "Make out my check 
 quick ! Take it out of this, and bring me the change. 
 Yes, it's a hundred dollars. Hump yourself, now, or 
 you'll have me miss my train." 
 
 The puzzled waiter tried to run three ways at once, 
 and failed dismally in all directions. Quaintance was 
 loudly appealing for someone capable of finding his 
 hat and coat, when from without resounded the honk 
 of a motor-horn, a hoarse cry as of rage, and a long-
 
 26 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 drawn howl followed by a volley of fierce execrations 
 in French. In frantic haste to find out what had hap- 
 pened he made for the Broadway exit, sure that it had 
 been the fat Frenchman's voice he had heard. 
 
 From its porch he caught sight of that individual, 
 hatless, dust-streaked, striking foolish, hysterical at- 
 titudes in the street, shaking his fist fiercely after a 
 small motor-car which was progressing uptown at <i 
 pace well within the speed limit and yet too swift to be 
 overtaken. A mob was gathering about the angry 
 foreigner and jeering at his antics, but he was too full 
 of other grievances to notice that. Quaintance thought 
 joyfully that now would be a convenient time to ad- 
 minister the thrashing which he so richly deserved, and 
 was half-way across the sidewalk when a surface car 
 came clanking up, the Frenchman snatched up his hat, 
 scrambled on board, and by such means escaped, all 
 unwittingly, the vengeance which would otherwise 
 most assuredly have overtaken him. 
 
 "Too late, eh?" said a voice at the avenger's elbow, 
 and Quaintance, back in the doorway, learned from the 
 laughing remark that he had been thinking aloud. 
 
 "Just too late," he answered regretfully. "What hap- 
 pened? Did you notice?" 
 
 "Not much," returned the other, a man who had 
 been dining at a table close to the windows on that 
 side. "The girl who was with him got into the 
 automobile and drove off as soon as he had it cranked 
 up. He made a jump for it seemed to have a mistaken 
 idea that she ought to take him along but mademoi- 
 selle was too quick for him and he took a tumble, which 
 made him bad-tempered." 
 
 Quaintance nodded his thanks for the information
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 27 
 
 and went back to his own seat, where he found the 
 waiter still counting change. He had thought of tak- 
 ing the next trolley car up Broadway, on the off- 
 chance of trailing the Frenchman, and then reflected 
 that such a course could only prove futile. la- 
 the end he decided that he might as well have coffee 
 and finish his smoke. It would no doubt be quite as 
 profitable to sit down and soliloquize there where he 
 had seen the girl, with the chair on which she had sat 
 before him for inspiration, as to go chasing about New 
 York on any such bootless errand. 
 
 He sat still, therefore, and took counsel with himself 
 concerning the past and the future. The present was 
 all too blank now to interest him. Life had lost its 
 sparkle, gone flat, Martin's was almost quiet, and half 
 empty. 
 
 "That's the second chance I've missed to-day," he 
 muttered, very regretfully, chin on one palm and star- 
 ing intently at the tablecloth. "I wish she had given 
 me just half an inkling of her ideas and I'd have taken 
 care of that cad for her. I might have gathered as 
 much, of course, but I'm far too dense. It's evident 
 that my wanderings haven't sharpened my wits. 
 
 "The third time may be more lucky, but I'm afraid 
 the prospects of a third time are altogether too thin to 
 hang any hopes on. I've thrown away opportunity 
 
 twice, and What can I do to retrieve it? I'm more 
 
 alone in this mob than I ever was in Africa. I don't 
 suppose there's a soul in the city I know, and there 
 certainly isn't a single soul who knows me." 
 
 Sunk in such depressing reflections and puffing dis- 
 consolately at his cigar he looked up without curiosity 
 as an elderly-looking, grey-haired individual, in
 
 28 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 strictly correct evening dress, who had been regarding 
 him with a good deal of interest and unremarked from 
 a near table, came forward and stopped beside him. 
 
 "H'lo! Quaintance," observed the stranger, and the 
 object of his attention could scarcely control the start 
 of surprise and dismay with which he had thus heard 
 again the name he had just discarded. But he gazed 
 with blank lack of understanding for.a-'brief moment 
 at his interlocutor, and, dropping his eyes again, shook 
 his head in silent negation. 
 
 He had not the faintest idea who the other might be, 
 but, mindful of his late encounter with a still more 
 blatant species of confidence-man, and grimly deter- 
 mined that his own incognito must be preserved at all 
 costs, was now prepared to dispute his identity with any 
 who might be rash enough to question his claim to the 
 name of Newman. 
 
 He shook his head, decidedly, and, picking up the 
 pile of change before him, proceeded to count it with 
 care, in token that the subject must be considered 
 closed. 
 
 But the inquirer was not to be put off so easily. 
 
 "Your name's not Quaintance, eh?" he demanded 
 briskly. "And you don't happen to have a couple of 
 pure rose-diamonds in one of your waistcoat-pockets, 
 do you?" 
 
 Quaintance, his chin thrust suddenly forward, his 
 eyes showing danger-signals, stared him fixedly in the 
 face. 
 
 "No, sir. I don't," he answered categorically. 
 
 The unknown was quite oblivious to that warning. 
 
 "The last time I met you," he remarked blandly, 
 "your name was Quaintance. And you did happen to
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 29 
 
 have a couple of pure rose-diamonds in one of your 
 waistcoat-pockets." 
 
 He looked quickly round the room, and then sat 
 down, deliberately, facing Quaintance from the sacred 
 chair.
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 O'FERRAL HEARS OF A FRIEND'S SAD FATE IN THE LAND 
 OF OPHIR 
 
 Quaintance was quick to wrath. 
 
 "Who the devil are you?" he asked hotly, forgetting 
 in his growing irritation the deference due to grey 
 hairs. But in that respect he had some excuse, since 
 the persistent stranger was of a surprisingly active ap- 
 pearance for all his elderly air, and indeed looked cap- 
 able of giving a good account of himself if words 
 should lead to deeds as it seemed they would. 
 
 "Who the devil are you, sir? And what d'ye mean 
 by your ridiculous statements! Get up off that chair 
 this table's reserved." 
 
 He had spoken in a low tone, and menacingly, but 
 the other did not budge. 
 
 "If your name's not Quaintance," pursued that in- 
 truder, eyeing him imperturbably, his face growing 
 strangely familiar to Quaintance returning his gaze, 
 "If your name's not Quaintance what alias are you 
 .using, you rascal? Sit still! Don't make a disturb- 
 ance. I know you. Look here." 
 
 He laid one hand on the white tablecloth, and 
 Quaintance curbed his own intention of throwing him 
 across the room in time and no more to observe the 
 diamond-shaped scar on its palm. He sank back into 
 his seat, and his expression of choler gave way to one 
 
 30
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 31 
 
 of helpless bewilderment. He looked limply at his 
 vis-a-vis, with brows knit in a vain effort to under- 
 stand. 
 
 "Is is that you, O'Ferral!" he whispered weakly, 
 admitting his own identity without further argument. 
 And the elderly-looking man's haggard, clean-shaven 
 face wrinkled into a friendly smile as he nodded quick 
 affirmation. 
 
 "I'm O'Ferral, sure enough," he retorted with great 
 conviction, "or at least I'm his mortal remains in a civi- 
 lized shirt. I didn't think that would have made such 
 a difference, Steve!" 
 
 "But I could have sworn you were still on the Upper 
 Congo," objected Quaintance, still more than dubious 
 as to the evidence of his own eyes and ears. "You 
 told me you'd be there all winter, and What in God's 
 name have you been doing to yourself since I saw you 
 last! You were thirty then, and you're on the 
 wrong side of sixty now! What's happened? I don't 
 understand." 
 
 "If you were one of the Where, How, and All About 
 It Brigade from Newspaper Row," O'Ferral returned 
 easily, "you'd know better than to bank on my being 
 anywhere at any time. Here to-day and only heaven 
 knows where to-morrow's our motto, my boy. 
 
 "I'm older and uglier than I was this time last year, 
 but I can't help that. Thereby wags a tale which I'll 
 tell you presently. 
 
 "What's this, hey? Sparkling Burgundy and a full 
 bottle ! Seems to me that you're wasting' the mercies 
 nowadays, Steve. I can remember the time when a 
 single teaspoonful of that would have been worth more 
 to us than your rose-diamonds were then."
 
 32 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 He spoke conversationally, whiffing at a black cigar- 
 ette, giving Quaintance time to recover from his mani- 
 fest astonishment. 
 
 The latter's brain was still in a whirl, but he was, 
 none the less, overjoyed by O'Ferral's most unlocked 
 for appearance. There was that between himself and 
 the quick-witted, volatile newspaper man which 
 formed an unbreakable bond, and he knew that he 
 could not have gained a more congenial companion or 
 stauncher comrade at such a juncture. 
 
 "That bottle's gone flat long ago. We'll have an- 
 other," he answered, and once more signalled to his still 
 expectant waiter, who gleefully whisked away the al- 
 most untasted wine and brought back a fresh supply. 
 
 "Gad! I'm glad to see you again although I can't 
 altogether commend your method of introducing 
 yourself. It's a good thing I didn't get up to bounce 
 you before you gave me the cue. I took you for a 
 high-class gold-brick artist at first. I couldn't imagine 
 how you had got hold of my old my name." 
 
 O'Ferral raised quizzical eyebrows. 
 
 "Your old your name," he remarked. "What's the 
 game? Let me in on the rules at least. I'm close as 
 an oyster. 
 
 "Have you changed your name? Why? What's 
 the new one? We'll get along more understandingly 
 once we've swapped stories." 
 
 Quaintance thought for a moment before replying. 
 He had not intended to take anyone into his confi- 
 dence, but, indifferent as he was to other people's 
 opinions, he would not have had O'Ferral misconstrue 
 "his motives if that could be helped. He promptly 
 made up his mind to trust his friend fully.
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 33- 
 
 "My story's a somewhat tangled one," he at length 
 returned. "Let's hear yours first." 
 
 "Mine's soon told," said O'Ferral readily. "After 
 we parted company on the Congo I went still further 
 up-river. Got a bad go of fever at a village there, and 
 was laid low for close on three months. Then orders , 
 reached me from Newspaper Row that I was to cross 
 country to the coast, picking up pointers by the way 
 about the alleged slave-trade in the Free State and 
 Portuguese West Africa. I came out at Mossamedes, 
 where I found a cable waiting to hurry me home. Here 
 I am." 
 
 Thus simply did he epitomize a twelvemonth of the 
 severest travail a man might well undertake, and 
 Quaintance, reading between the lines, understood all 
 he had left untold. 
 
 For the two had been more than friends. They had 
 endured together in darkest Africa, and there was also 
 a debt between them. The scar on O'Ferral's right 
 hand had been left there by a spear aimed at Quaint- 
 ance's heart, and which had come very near to achiev- 
 ing its object. 
 
 But Quaintance's recollections of the correspondent 
 had been of a big, stalwart man, moustached and 
 bearded, fair-haired, tanned face half-hidden beneath a 
 broad mushroom helmet, smoked glasses hiding its 
 kindly, humorous eyes, a veil of mosquito netting en- 
 shrouding all. Small wonder, then, that the sight of 
 the slender, elderly elegant in evening dress had not 
 recalled to his memory the unkempt traveler, booted 
 and belted, rifle on shoulder, revolver and machete on 
 hip, confronting, fearless, the manifold risks of a cruel 
 death in the desert.
 
 34 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 He eyed his fellow-adventurer, escaped from that 
 death at such cost and but by a hairbreadth, with grave 
 approval. They were both of the same scarce type 
 which bases all its beliefs upon scant speech and lavish 
 performance. 
 
 O'Ferral refilled both glasses, and glanced inquir- 
 ingly at him. 
 
 "Don't tell me anything you'd rather not," he 
 begged. "I'll take you on trust if you'll just let me 
 know what name I'm to call you by." 
 
 "I'd rather you heard the whole story," Quaintance 
 assured him, "but it's such a long one I don't quite 
 know where to cut in. I'll have to start way back to 
 make it more clear to you. Try one of these cigars 
 they're good and I'll go ahead." 
 
 They both lit up, Quaintance prolonging the action 
 a little, and then he began without further preface. 
 
 "My story's a somewhat tangled one. It starts with 
 a blood-fued. You know what that means in the 
 South, O'Ferral." 
 
 He paused. His friend nodded assent, without 
 speaking. He went on in a lower undertone, his eyes 
 kindling. 
 
 "There's one in my family. In it, mark you, and not 
 with any outsider. My father's only brother, Miles 
 Quaintance, began it and kept it up till he died, last 
 Christmas, in San Francisco. He murdered my father. 
 Not with knife or shotgun, but legally and by inches. 
 It would have been easier to put up with the other 
 way. 
 
 "I'm the last of the Quaintances living, and I must 
 carry on the quarrel. My account's with the dead 
 man, Miles."
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 35 
 
 O'Ferral stared at him, brows bent, listening closely. 
 
 "There were more of them and they were better off 
 before the war. But that cleaned them out in more 
 ways than one. My father and Uncle Miles were the 
 only two of the old stock left at the roll-call in '65, and 
 they were very hard pushed after that to make both 
 ends meet at the Manor. Peace and poverty came 
 hand in hand. 
 
 "My father was the elder brother. The Manor was 
 his, though it was of no value then. My uncle had 
 nothing. 
 
 "They both fell in love presently with an equally 
 penniless Southern beauty, and she turned Miles 
 down. 
 
 "It was because he had nothing, he said, and he left 
 home on their wedding-eve, swearing that he would 
 make her rue the day she had jilted him. 
 
 "They heard no more of him for a long time after 
 that. They were very happy together. 
 
 "But in other ways my father was most unlucky. 
 Those were dark days in the South. Year after year 
 went against him, and mortgage succeeded mortgage 
 until at last he found himself in the direst straits, while 
 most of his friends were in much the same predica- 
 ment. 
 
 "But he made a plucky fight for it, till, the first year 
 the crop showed promise of paying expenses, the mort- 
 gages were called in wholesale, not only in his case but 
 from all his neighbors. That bred a regular panic 
 throughout the district, where money was tight enough 
 already, and, since there was no help for it, the Manor 
 had to go. But my father died in it first, of a broken 
 heart, not knowing that it was his brother Miles who
 
 36 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 had struck the blow which killed him. That came out 
 later. 
 
 "I was a very small boy then, but I learned in time 
 that my wealthy uncle was the best hated man in Cov- 
 ington County, and why. He had never set foot in it, 
 either, since he had started for San Francisco, where 
 he made his pile. How he made it, I have no earthly 
 idea. 
 
 "After my father was dead, my mother suffered all 
 sorts of petty persecution at Miles Quaintance's hands. 
 I found that out too late, O'Ferral, but I give you my 
 word that a more malignant scoundrel it would be diffi- 
 cult to conceive. And she, all the time, was sacrific- 
 ing herself to give me an education. And I didn't 
 know. 
 
 "She even managed, out of the pittance she had to 
 live on, to send me across to the School of Mines in 
 Paris, and, when I got home again, I heard for the 
 first time of the man who had made life a burden to her 
 for so long. I wanted to go West and cast accounts 
 with him then, but she wouldn't have that. I owed it 
 to her to do as she wished, and I waited. 
 
 "I had not been with her for more than a month 
 when I had the offer of an opening with what seemed 
 very brilliant prospects on the diamond fields at Kim- 
 berley, in South Africa. We talked it over, and she 
 thought that I should take it. I believe now that she 
 was only anxious to see me safe beyond the sphere of 
 my uncle's influence. She feared for me, after what 
 had befallen my father. But she herself would not 
 leave the cottage at Covington where she had lived, 
 even while I was in New York, since we were expelled 
 from the Manor. She'd rather wait there, she said,
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 37 
 
 until I was ready to buy back our home, and that 
 wouldn't be very long. 
 
 "It wasn't so very long either, for I did well in Cape 
 Colony, but I was too late after all. She had been 
 dead and buried for six weeks before I heard of it, and 
 that hit me harder than anything else I've ever had 
 to put up with. It knocked me all out of time to think 
 
 that she'd never know I had sent home the money 
 
 The Manor was in the market at that time, and " 
 
 His voice shook slightly. He stopped. O'Ferral's 
 eyes were intently fixed on his own cigar. 
 
 "However," Quaintance continued steadily, "the old 
 home's mine at this moment, and what she wished is 
 accomplished. 
 
 "I felt that I couldn't stay on in Kimberley after 
 that, and I didn't care to come back to America in the 
 meantime. I wanted to get away from everything I 
 had known. I didn't much care what happened to me. 
 
 "I gathered my other assets together, and went 
 off north, making more money I did not need by the 
 way. I crossed the Transvaal and Bechuanaland, and 
 wandered on through Central Africa, exploring and 
 shooting, doing anything to kill time. If I had been a 
 little less careless it might have killed me, as I some- 
 times half hoped it would. But the more foolhardiness 
 I displayed the more miraculously did I scrape through. 
 It was when a lion, whose mate I had shot, chased me 
 into a crack in the ground and kept me there all one 
 afternoon that I came across the rose-diamonds. Some 
 day I'll go back there and look for more in the Lobisa 
 country, not far from the old Loangwa trail. Don't 
 forget that, O'Ferral, if you're ever hard up and I'm 
 not on hand to help you out."
 
 38 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 O'Ferral shook his grey head decidedly. He, 
 too, had had his fill in the Land of Ophir. 
 
 "I needn't bore you with all the details of my wan- 
 derings during those years. You've heard some of 
 them already, and others you can imagine better than 
 most men. But after you and I had met and parted, I 
 put northwest, meaning to cross French Congo and 
 the Cameroons to British territory. The carriers I had 
 with me struck and turned tail when we reached the 
 Baghirmi country, but, as luck would have it, I ran 
 across a Frenchman's convoy ten days out from Fort 
 Bretonnet, and he carried me in there. It seemed that 
 I couldn't lose myself, no matter how hard I tried. 
 
 "I had arranged some time before to have my mail 
 sent up to the fort from the coast, not feeling sure 
 whether I might not break back east from that point 
 toward Darfur, and when I arrived I found a letter 
 awaiting me. Think of that one letter after so long. 
 It made me sour to think that I counted for so little 
 among men although, of course, it was all my own 
 fault. 
 
 "But, as it turned out, that one was more than suffi- 
 cient. It was from my precious uncle, a post-mortem 
 message, forwarded by my own lawyers, and had been 
 following me about for a long time. I wish it had 
 never found me." 
 
 He swallowed a sip of wine, looked unseeingly round 
 the now almost empty room, and went on again. 
 
 "My uncle was dead, and, dying, he had repented the 
 work of his lifetime. He wanted to purchase absolu- 
 tion for that by paying blood-money to me, the son of 
 the man he had murdered. That shows you the sort
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 39 
 
 of fellow he was. It makes me hot to think of it, even 
 now. 
 
 "And that wasn't all. There was a condition at- 
 tached in the shape of his adopted daughter, the orphan 
 child of a Southern soldier he had befriended, whom I 
 must marry in order to inherit his millions. Thus, 
 quoth he, the most unfortunate feud which had sun- 
 dered us while he lived would be healed. And, for 
 added argument, he informed me that, if I failed to 
 comply with his wishes within a twelvemonth, the 
 money he had amassed would all go to charity, while 
 the girl, whom he had brought up in luxury, would be 
 left penniless. 
 
 "There was an infernal arrangement for youf He 
 was as cunning as he was cruel. He must have known 
 that nothing would tempt me to touch a penny of his, 
 and how it would hurt me to harm an innocent girl. 
 
 "That sickened me of Fort Bretonnet. The French- 
 men were very hospitable and begged me to stay, but 
 I wanted to get back into the wilds by myself and 
 think. The life I had been leading had left me half a 
 savage. In my hurry I got together a worse gang of 
 rascals than those who had just deserted me, and set 
 off with them for the lake north of Palla, from which 
 you can reach a waterway that will take you through 
 to Nigeria. 
 
 "It was most damnable going, but I kept them at it 
 until we had crossed the Cameroon border, and there 
 they in turn went back on me, bolting one night with 
 all my trade goods, copper wire and calico I carried 
 with me to pay my way in presents, leaving me only 
 my canoe with my personal effects and a few provisions 
 in the cruellest corner in Africa.
 
 40 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 "I sat up and called myself names then, but it was 
 too late to number off all the different sorts of a fool 
 I felt, and I thought that I might after all reach Yola, 
 where the British have a garrison. 
 
 "The natives round there are cannibals, as you know, 
 and I didn't do much traveling by daylight, so that I 
 made pretty poor progress. It took me forty-eight 
 hours to reach the fork of the Benue, with the current, 
 and that was forty-eight miles, I reckoned. 
 
 "However, I got across to the western bank before 
 daybreak, and drew in under the growth by the river- 
 edge so's to escape observation. It was steaming hot, 
 and the place stank. You know the rank, rotten 
 smell of dead marigold. I couldn't sleep, tired out as 
 I was, so I ran through my uncle's letter again, just to 
 pass the time, although I had thought it threadbare 
 already. But I couldn't think what I was going to do 
 about it I mean for the girl. 
 
 "I knew nothing of her, and she less of me, but she 
 at least had never done me or mine harm, and it seemed 
 hard that she alone should be the scapegoat. I was 
 independent financially I had sight drafts with me 
 for all I possessed, except the Manor, and the two rose- 
 diamonds as well. So long as I scraped through alive 
 with these I need never want. But with her it was 
 quite different, and that through no fault of her own. 
 
 "Well, I was lying there in the shade, sweating, body 
 and brains, when I saw a canoe coming down-river 
 round the bend, and dropped the letter to pick up my 
 rifle. I was half afraid that I had been spotted. But 
 no more followed it, and there was only a single man 
 in the one I had sighted. He was sitting bolt upright,
 
 with his paddle athwartships, doing no work and drift- 
 ing along at an easy pace. 
 
 "When he came a little nearer I saw he was wear- 
 ing a helmet, which gave me a jolt. I couldn't con- 
 ceive what a white man could be doing there alone, 
 but, in any case, I hailed him several times and he 
 paid not the slightest attention. An eddy caught the 
 canoe, and it went sagging away toward midstream. 
 On the spur of the moment I put out after him. 
 
 "I raised my voice as I ran alongside, but still he 
 did not reply, and a single glance showed me that he 
 was dead. They had done things to him as well as 
 killed him, for he had no face. He was held in po- 
 sition by two short spears, one under each shoulder- 
 blade, a haft made fast to each gunwale. I felt sick, 
 very sick, then, O'Ferral. 
 
 "But he had been a white man, and I was bound to 
 do something. I drove both canoes back among the 
 branches, and picketed them with my paddles while I 
 held an inquest on him. He was very raggedly 
 dressed, could not have been either soldier, skypilot or 
 trader, and it wasn't a nice thing to have to do, but I 
 did it. I wanted some clue. I found none. 
 
 "As soon as I'd finished I flopped down in my own 
 craft, and my fingers fell on my uncle's letter. 
 
 "That gave me my cue like a flash. 
 
 "Miles Quaintance had left me one loophole. There 
 was a provision in his will to the effect that, if I should 
 die during the twelve months' grace he allowed me, 
 his money would go to the girl. 
 
 "I may have been half mad then, but it seemed quite 
 simple. All I had to do was to shift my identity on 
 to the shoulders of this poor fellow. He had none, so
 
 42 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 that I would be perfectly free to choose a fresh one for 
 myself. There was not a soul in the wide world to 
 wear mourning for me, and I could see no reason what- 
 soever against the exchange. 
 
 "So I set to work and did the thing thoroughly. 
 When I was through with it, even you would have 
 sworn from the evidence that it was Stephen Quaint- 
 ance who presently went drifting downstream toward 
 Yola, stone-dead. 
 
 "He carried with him every scrap of identifiable 
 property I possessed except the drafts and the dia- 
 monds, of course and that was more than sufficient 
 to satisfy any coroner's jury. I knew that he couldn't 
 help reaching Yola, and that I could trust the English- 
 men there to see everything shipshape, and send the 
 news on. 
 
 "I spent the rest of the day making a will bequeath- 
 ing all Stephen Quaintance possessed to A. Newman, 
 endorsed my drafts to that name, and practiced my new 
 signature, which is as unlike the old one as I could 
 make it." 
 
 "What does A. stand for?" interrupted O'Ferral. 
 
 "Oh, anything. Call it Ananias I don't care. 
 
 "So that now, you see, the girl will get my uncle's 
 money, to which she's justly entitled, while I'm as well 
 off as ever, and no one's the worse. There are still 
 a few weeks of the year to run, but they'll surely have 
 proof of my death before these are up, and that will 
 settle the whole thing satisfactorily. Don't you think 
 so, O'Ferral?" 
 
 O'Ferral was silent for some time, and then nodded 
 gravely. And Ouaintance's face cleared. 
 
 "I think I'd have done much the same in your place," 
 said his friend. "It wasn't an easy one, and you've
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 43 
 
 certainly cut your way out of it pretty effectually. If 
 no unforeseen complications arise, I don't see why you 
 should ever have cause to regret what you've done." 
 
 "I think I've provided for every eventuality," Quaint- 
 ance asserted with some return of his usual cheerful 
 self-confidence. I think I've made everything safe for 
 the girl and myself." 
 
 O'Ferral nodded again. 
 
 "You've done what you could," he said briefly. "No 
 man can do more. It's up to fate now, and How 
 did you get home? What happened then?" 
 
 "I had a pretty rough time of it after that, living 
 Lord knows how and not knowing where to turn. I 
 didn't dare to go on to Yola, lest I should spoil all by 
 my appearance there, and I had staked too much to 
 risk that. But providence preserved me in my folly. 
 I got as far north as Lake Tchad, where I was picked 
 up by an exploring party, whom I told truthfully that 
 I had been deserted by my carriers, and they were not 
 over-inquisitive. With them I worked toward the 
 coast, and as soon as I struck quick transport I hur- 
 ried on. They know me in Lokoja and Forgados as 
 Newman, and you won't forget now, O'Ferral, that 
 Quaintance is dead and buried. I would have told no 
 one but you my story, and for that matter, no one else 
 is interested enough in me to ask any questions. 
 
 "Fill your glass, and let's talk about something else.'' 
 
 O'Ferral took his elbows off the table, and rolled 
 himself a cigarette. He had listened with the closest 
 attention to his friend's strange tale, and was wonder- 
 ing what the sequel might be. But Quaintance, hav- 
 ing relieved his mind, was already occupied with other 
 and more urgent ideas, and presently spoke again. 
 "Did you notice a girl who went out just as you
 
 44 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 must have entered?" he asked ingenuously, and the 
 correspondent, waking from visions of the wild world 
 and Africa, of a sluggish, broad, brown river, a dead 
 man afloat in a frail canoe on its currents, came back 
 to a sudden consciousness that he was in Martin's, be- 
 tween Fifth Avenue and Broadway in New York, that 
 close to him crowded street cars were whirring past, 
 that everywhere there was brisk life and light and bus- 
 tle. Stray parties were already appearing for supper. 
 The other tables were shining afresh, under shaded 
 candles, with snowy linen, bright crystal and cutlery. 
 
 "What's that?" he inquired, blinking, bewildered, 
 and Quaintance repeated the question. 
 
 "A girl, eh? Oh, yes, I noticed a girl and a man 
 and you, all at the same time. I was much inclined 
 to assault and batter that rat-faced scoundrel myself. 
 
 " I came in here at your heels, after he'd got away, to 
 find out whether it was really you I had seen on the 
 street." 
 
 "Have you any idea who she is?" Quaintance ques- 
 tioned with all the indifference he could assume, but 
 O'Ferral shook his grey head. 
 
 "Not the very slightest," he answered, carelessly 
 also, but with a low laugh. His friend's affectation had 
 not escaped his observance. "Not the very slightest, 
 Steve. Why?" 
 
 Quaintance did not at once reply. 
 
 "I'm going to buy a motor car in the morning," said 
 he. "Where's the best place to get one?" 
 
 "What sort of a car?" 
 
 "The best." 
 
 "But for what purpose?" 
 
 "To find that girl."
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 FANCHETTE FINDS ONLY A HUNDRED FRANCS IN THE 
 
 COFFER 
 
 The girl had not been unaware of Quaintance's 
 covert scrutiny. It had hurt her more, perhaps, than 
 anything else she had had to endure since she had en- 
 countered her most unwelcome companion. And that 
 had not been either little or light. 
 
 She had intuitively adjudged him a gentleman, and 
 had been by so much the more ashamed that he should 
 see her in such a plight. The first swift glance in which 
 her eyes had met his for a fateful moment had carried 
 to him an appeal for compassionate surmise. That he 
 had but partially understood .... And there was so 
 much more he might wholly misunderstand. 
 
 The exotic atmosphere of Martin's was a strange one 
 to her. She could not but know that she must be con- 
 spicuous in it, and yet, but for the consciousness of 
 his regard, she might have left it unmoved by the 
 thought that the throng there had been witnesses of 
 her discomfiture. 
 
 She had remained unconcerned enough outwardly 
 during the meal, but felt sure that, none the less, every- 
 one must have seen what she was suffering. And 
 when at last it came to an end she rose with a sense of 
 relief inexpressible, only to be left standing among all 
 those men and women who seemed to have no faintest 
 
 45
 
 ' 4 6 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 scruples as to staring her out of countenance. She 
 was much inclined to refuse the courtesy Quaintance 
 proffered her, and seek safety in instant flight. 
 
 But, as it turned out, she would not have had time 
 for that, and the grave-faced young man in the blue 
 serge suit did not venture to address her, as she had 
 half feared he might. Her bemuddled escort came 
 back to her almost immediately. She rose, and fol- 
 lowed him out of the room. 
 
 She had stipulated ere entering the restaurant that 
 they were to part at the door, where her car was wait- 
 ing, but the wine he had imbibed had rendered him 
 quarrelsome, and when she reminded him of his prom- 
 ise he contradicted her flatly. She saw that any further 
 sacrifice she might make in order to escape open rup- 
 ture with him would be in vain, and was almost des- 
 perate. But she silently took the left-hand seat at his 
 order, and he went forward to set the engine in motion. 
 
 At sight of him stooping over it, a sudden, rash res- 
 olution inspired her to slip to the wheel. She laid one 
 hand on the horn, and, as he rose, his purpose accom- 
 plished, squeezed out a single loud blast which caused 
 liim to spring toward the pavement. Ere he could un- 
 derstand what had happened, she had set the lever, 
 with trembling fingers, and backed away a few yards. 
 Broadway was less busy at that hour. 
 
 She took her foot off the brake and moved forward, 
 wheeling as he made a rush at her, striking him full in 
 the face as he strove to make good his footing on the 
 off step. 
 
 He stumbled and fell, letting go his hold of the hood 
 with a howl of rage. She put on speed, dashed safely 
 over the cross street in front of a loaded truck which
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 47 
 
 further delayed him, and, having thus made sure of her 
 distance, slowed down to a more sensible pace, and so 
 fled from him. 
 
 Her scarlet lips were tightly compressed and a single 
 furrow on her white forehead bespoke a depth of de- 
 termination which boded ill for any who might seek to 
 interfere. She was steeling herself against a conscience 
 which whispered that it had all been very unladylike, 
 and undignified. She had actually assaulted the man. 
 If anyone stopped her on that account she would be in 
 a worse case than ever. She made up her mind that no 
 one should stop her, and steered with nice dexterity 
 through Herald Square. 
 
 A few blocks further on she turned west as far as 
 Eighth Avenue, ran down to Twenty-seventh street, 
 and, facing inward again, with an ever increasing sense 
 of security, held for the East River and Thirty-fourth 
 Street Ferry. 
 
 At the dock there she had five minutes to wait ere 
 creeping on to the boat, and that interval she spent 
 somewhat fearfully in disguising herself as well as she 
 might in a motor costume. Duster, cap, and goggles 
 she donned in haste, drawing the collar well over her 
 dimpled chin, knotting a close veil round the silken 
 glory of her heavy crown of hair. But, try as she 
 might, she could not hide from the eyes of men all 
 trace of her beauty, and many inquisitive glances were 
 centred on her as she sat immobile in her place, the 
 lights gleaming warmly against the wild-rose of her 
 cheeks, her curved lips rather tremulous now that the 
 tense strain she had been under was somewhat relaxed. 
 
 Long Island City at night-time confused her sadly, 
 and she went astray more than once in her nervousness
 
 48 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 ere striking the main road to Jamaica. Had she dared 
 to ask directions she would have saved the delay, but 
 rather than leave any clue to her passing she puzzled 
 it out for herself, in the hope that she might be able 
 to make up for lost time later. 
 
 Her light car was traveling smoothly, but, not long 
 after she had begun to put on speed at an unfrequented 
 part of the road, an ominous discord warned her of 
 coming trouble. It came. She was left with only way 
 enough on to reach the roadside when the power failed 
 her, and she found herself stranded. 
 
 The mischance was a most untimely one, and, tread- 
 ing so close on the heels of that which she had just 
 contrived to surmount at such cost to herself, but for 
 which she could have been safe at home long ere now, 
 it was doubly depressing. She knew that Fanchette 
 would be frantic with fear for her. What she should 
 do now she was not quite sure. 
 
 There was no train to be counted upon till morning. 
 To travel by train would also double the risk of detec- 
 tion, and it was for that very reason that she had 
 elected to trust to the car and her own ability. It 
 was half-past ten by the clock before her, too late to 
 telegraph. 
 
 She bit her lip, and got out, since she had no option 
 but to attempt repair, drawing off her gauntlets, rais- 
 ing her veil, and turning down her coat-collar with 
 business-like haste. The night was dark. She took 
 one of the lamps from its bracket, and, lifting the bon- 
 net, made careful search for the cause of catastrophe. 
 In that she displayed intimate acquaintance with all the 
 details of the mechanism, but, deft as she was, she could 
 not arrive at any solution of the problem set her.
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 49 
 
 She was almost in despair when, looking up, she saw 
 two glaring headlights approaching her from the direc- 
 tion of Jamaica, and renewed hope sprang up within 
 her. Surely the occupants of any other car would not 
 pass without offering assistance, she thought. 
 
 In her urgent need she even stepped out into the 
 roadway, holding her lamp up lest they should speed 
 by unseeing. But at that moment the echo of a man's 
 voice, singing jovially, came down the wind to her, and, 
 hearing it, her courage ebbed to a still lower mark. 
 She drew back hurriedly and hid herself behind her 
 own tonneau as best she could, stooping over the rear 
 tire there. The dread that some returning roysterer 
 from Rockaway or Long Beach might only prove an 
 added complication forced her to the conclusion that 
 she must rely upon her own resources and sort things 
 out unaided, even though that should take all night. 
 
 But she had changed her mind too late. The dust- 
 cloud trailing in the wake of a fast auto slowed down 
 and hung low in the dim light, rising again in a thick, 
 eddying whirl as the brakes were applied with a rash 
 fervor which went far to confirm her fears. 
 
 "In trouble, comrade?" cried the voice of one well 
 satisfied with himself and the world in general, and a 
 scratched, shabby car was drawn up head to head with 
 hers, a solitary individual descended from it. 
 
 He advanced floridly, puffing a huge cigar, a tall, 
 broad-shouldered young man, well set up, of easy, if 
 somewhat swaggering carriage. His face was thin, the 
 cheek-bones prominent, its skin tanned to a hue which 
 gave his eyes undue effect. 
 
 "What's gone wrong?" he demanded with the casual 
 ease of one accustomed to vouch for his own worth,
 
 50 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 and, as the girl rose, facing him in the full light of his 
 big head-lamps, pursed up his lips as if to whistle. 
 
 "A lady!" he exclaimed, looking about him even as 
 he bowed with an exaggerated courtesy. 
 
 "A lady and alone. Has your chauffeur deserted 
 you? If so, I hope you'll let me replace him." 
 
 She would willingly have informed him that she had 
 a chauffeur in the near neighborhood, but, little as she 
 was prepossessed by his appearance, she could not 
 frame her lips to the untruth. He was not in the usual 
 garb of a motorist, and she thought he bore some re- 
 semblance to the man in a blue serge suit whom she 
 had seen at Martin's. But instinct told her that he 
 was not to be described as gentleman, and that, there- 
 fore, he could not be the same. 
 
 "Thank you," she said, as levelly as she might, 
 "there's nothing you can do for me. I've managed all 
 right myself." 
 
 "Then I may at least have the pleasure of cranking 
 up," he opined, and proceeded to do so, but with the 
 uncomfortable result that, after a few irregular explo- 
 sions, the engine came to a full stop again. 
 
 He looked at her amusedly from under uplifted eye- 
 brows, and, while she blushed over her ineffectual pre- 
 varication, became more than ever impressed with her 
 beauty. 
 
 "You haven't managed quite as successfully as we 
 must before we get this toy to go again," he protested 
 with a plausible assumption of sympathy. "It's lucky 
 that I came along just now for you as well as my- 
 self." 
 
 He bowed again, with a flourish, and then took upon 
 himself the task of setting things straight, but going
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 51 
 
 to work with a leisurely air very trying to her in her 
 hurry. 
 
 "I've been dining down at Long Beach, you see," 
 he informed her conversationally. "I don't care much 
 for Manhattan in broad daylight, and I'm very fond of 
 the seashore. But after the lamps are lit, little old New 
 York's not such a bad place. I'm on my way in to 
 supper there now." 
 
 Every now and then, he would glance up at her with 
 some such friendly or facetious remark, and when she 
 drew back from the circle of light he bade her come 
 closer and help him. She would fain have dispensed 
 with his services altogether, but the hope that she 
 would presently be well on her way again combined 
 with the fear of any argument with him while she was 
 still held fast beside her crippled machine in enabling 
 her to put up with his presence. Only once did an- 
 other motor whiz past, taking no notice of them, and 
 otherwise the road was deserted. 
 
 "If you're bound for the Beach," the man said sud- 
 denly, straightening himself after a long bout with the 
 interior mechanism, "I'll run you down there in quick 
 time, and we'll send a man back to bring your car on." 
 
 "Oh, no," she declared, "I must take the car on my- 
 self, and I'm not going to the Beach." 
 
 "Jamaica?" he asked curiously, resuming the cigar 
 which he had laid aside. 
 
 She hesitated for a moment, not wishing to offend 
 him by replying, as she might have done, that that was 
 no concern of his, and he, impelled thereto by her 
 sweet, troubled eyes, became more reckless in his gen- 
 erosity. 
 
 "It doesn't matter where," he said, moving toward
 
 52 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 his own car. "J um P in beside me and I'll run you 
 home before they lock the door. Then I'll come back 
 and bring the car on. No one will be a bit the wiser." 
 
 She did not thoroughly understand him, but vetoed 
 that suggestion also. 
 
 'Til tell you what, then," he concluded, motioning 
 to her that she should follow him. 
 
 "We'll go straight to New York, and get someone 
 from Long Island City to attend to this. We'll be just 
 in the nick of time for a nice, quiet supper, and you can 
 catch a late train out. How does that strike you, eh ?" 
 
 He scowled as she turned her back on him, but she 
 did not notice that. She was once more busy with the 
 recalcitrant engine. 
 
 "You're only wasting your time there," he assured 
 her. "That thing won't move again to-night. Say, 
 I know a place where we'd never be noticed, and you 
 need something to eat now. Come on. What are you 
 afraid of, hey?" 
 
 He laid a persuasive hand on her arm, made 
 as though he would have slipped it around her waist, 
 but she stepped swiftly backward. Before he could 
 .speak he was staring into the muzzle of a glittering but 
 otherwise quite workmanlike revolver. 
 
 He stopped and stood still, not blanching, although 
 her finger was crooked in its trigger and he knew that 
 women are not to be trusted with firearms. So that 
 she, who had no lack of courage herself, liked him none 
 the worse for that he was not coward as well as cad. 
 
 "Will you please get into your car and go on," she 
 requested steadily. "I'm a good shot, and I shan't 
 hesitate to " 
 
 "I don't doubt it," he interrupted, more soberly
 
 SHE HAD ALREADY STARTED TO COUNT IN A CLEAR COLD TONE, 
 "ONE TWO THREE FOUR " 
 
 Pag* 54
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 53 
 
 than he had yet spoken, but still with an irrepressible 
 note of admiration in the quick words. 
 
 "I had no idea of offending you, miss, and, to prove 
 that, I'll put matters right for you in a twinkling, if 
 you'll allow me. I know exactly what's wrong, al- 
 though it wasn't my purpose to say so until it suited 
 me. But you're one of the right sort, and I'll be 
 hanged if I'll leave a lady in any such difficulty even 
 although she does drill a hole in me while I'm helping 
 her out of it." 
 
 Without more ado, he lifted the cover again, holding 
 a lamp for himself now, and, after a brief interval, rose 
 triumphant. 
 
 "That's it," he announced, one hand on his hip in a 
 jaunty attitude, and breathing heavily, while she kept 
 him carefully covered. 
 
 "Now I'll try the crank, if I may." 
 
 He did so without awaiting permission, and, under 
 his strong hand, the traitorous engine was soon giving 
 vent to a most heartsome purr. Then he looked quiz- 
 ically over to where she stood regarding him with her 
 bent brows, thankful for his belated aid and yet an- 
 noyed because of the half hour he had wasted for her, 
 not knowing how she should go gracefully. 
 
 He solved that question for her. 
 
 "You owe me something," he asserted meaningly. 
 "Whether it's much or little I must leave you to figure 
 out. A kiss would cancel the debt and cost you noth- 
 ing." 
 
 His further effrontery did not so much disconcert 
 her, now that she had in some sort taken the measure 
 of the man. He was a rogue, but his very recklessness 
 appealed to the woman in her.
 
 54 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 "I'm indebted to you for what you have done," she 
 told him with a sufficient tinge of gratitude in her tone, 
 "and I'm only sorry you've given me cause to distrust 
 you to the extent that I must ask you to get into 
 your car now and g on, so that I also may get away. 
 I thank you again, sir, for such courtesy as you have 
 shown me, and, in return, I'll count ten before I shoot." 
 
 "Oh, see here!" he began, but she had already 
 started to count in a cold, clear tone, "One two 
 three four " 
 
 And he saw that she meant no more and no less than 
 what she had said. She would most assuredly fire if he 
 did not obey her. 
 
 He was half inclined to take the risk and chance her 
 shot going wide, so desirable did she look standing 
 there alone under the dim stars, her delicate features 
 warmly aglow in the gleam of his upheld lamp, her 
 clear eyes meeting his clouded ones resolutely. But 
 some remnant of a better nature induced him to give 
 in to her steadfast purpose. He bowed to her with a 
 real respect as she counted eight, and at ten was al- 
 ready guiding his car past hers. 
 
 He went on a few yards, and stopped, watching her 
 as she climbed to her seat, but without making any 
 further attempt to annoy her. 
 
 "If everything isn't quite all right, I'm here at your 
 service," he called through the gloom, but she nodded 
 briskly as she looked back. "Everything's all right, 
 thanks," she replied. 
 
 "And I'm to have supper all by myself?" he inquired 
 in sad jest. 
 
 "Good night," she responded briefly, and went her
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 55 
 
 way, leaving him leaning over the back of the seat, 
 staring regretfully after her. 
 
 "She's no snob," he assured himself fervently. "A 
 Blue Grass filly, if ever there was one. I like the breed. 
 "If it weren't for this infernal girl that I'm going to 
 marry, I'd turn about and chase right after her now." 
 
 Ten minutes more took the object of his eulogy to 
 Jamaica, and the short run through the lighted streets 
 there helped to build up her waning courage against 
 the long journey still before her. It had been severely 
 tried in the recent encounter, although she had shown 
 no sign of that at the time. 
 
 She swept through Hollis and hit the Jericho turn- 
 pike, the purr of the power rising a note or two as she 
 let it out in the open. Sh'e had three good lamps to 
 help her along and was a most expert driver. By the 
 time she had left Mineola behind she had almost re- 
 covered her normal spirits, was even enjoying her wild 
 night-ride. If all went well now she would yet be 
 home before daybreak, and so relieve some part of 
 Fanchette's anxieties. 
 
 A silver crescent climbed into the sky and cast 
 strange shadows across her path. Dark clumps of 
 trees, tall bushes, assumed stranger shapes as she drew 
 toward them, and passed, and left them behind. The 
 houses she saw were all dark. The eerie stillness of 
 night was only broken by the monotonous whirr which 
 accompanied her, or when some dog barked noisily 
 from a farm at the sound of her flight. 
 
 Hour after hour ticked away without other occur- 
 rence, and she still sat steadily at her wheel, alert and 
 ready for anything that might befall. But, for all her 
 haste, grey dawn was breaking across the bay before
 
 56 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 she turned off the high road on to a rougher one, 
 slowed down to cross an uncertain bridge spanning a 
 shallow salt water creek, and, putting on a last spurt 
 over sand, wheeled into an almost untrodden track 
 through a thick belt of wood which concealed a small 
 dwelling beside the sea. 
 
 At the warning honk of her horn a door was flung 
 wide from within, an elderly woman ran forth with up- 
 lifted hands, tragic eyes. 
 
 "C'est toi, mamselle!" cried she in tremulous French, 
 and called upon God to witness her gratitude as her 
 young mistress stepped down from the car. 
 
 "It's I, Fanchette, without doubt," said the girl, 
 very gladly. "And thankful to see you again, and so 
 tired that I can scarcely see. 
 
 "You were not over-anxious, were you?" she asked 
 coaxingly, and put an arm round the other as she saw 
 that her eyes were wet. 
 
 "Now, don't cry, there's a dear. I'm here after all, 
 and I'll tell you what happened to me just as soon as 
 we get indoors. I had hard enough work to get 
 home even at this unearthly hour." 
 
 Fanchette pulled a bunch of keys from her pocket 
 and loosened the padlock from the barn-door. The 
 two of them backed the motor in, and she locked it 
 again ere she followed the girl toward the house. She 
 also drew the bolt there behind her on entering. 
 
 The girl went wearily through to a tiny sitting-room 
 and threw herself down on a couch by the window 
 there, while her maid hastily completed the prepara- 
 tions for a late supper or early breakfast which had ob~ 
 viously been in readiness for some time. 
 
 "Draw in, dear heart, and eat," said Fanchette coax-
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 57 
 
 ingly. She herself had been almost distraught with 
 anxiety the long night through, was worn with her 
 vigil, but, since her dauntless charge was also so far 
 spent as to confess the weakness evident in her whole 
 demeanor, she was fain to forget her own fatigue in 
 fond solicitude. A somewhat homely and harsh-feat- 
 ured serving-woman, this Fanchette, but very faithful! 
 
 The girl raised herself listlessly, and sat down in 
 the place prepared for her. 
 
 "It was Jules Chevrel who detained me," she said, 
 under an irresistible impulse to unburden herself of 
 her heavy trouble, and Fanchette's face paled as she 
 laid a hand on her heart, crossing herself with the 
 other, as though to ward off some imminent evil, at 
 sound of that name. 
 
 "Jules Chevrel!" she repeated, in a hoarse whisper, 
 and waited, in fear. 
 
 "Jules Chevrel," said the girl. "He caught sight of 
 me and I of him as I came out of a store. There was 
 no chance of escape." 
 
 "But there is now?" asked Fanchette eagerly. 
 
 The girl did not answer at once. She was calling to 
 mind all she had undergone, and a single furrow was 
 once more visible on her white forehead. 
 
 "Monsieur is in New York," she returned presently, 
 and Fanchette gave vent to a stifled groan. 
 
 "Jules said he had been sent in search of me, and 
 and that I must go to Monsieur with him. Otherwise 
 he threatened to call the police. And I I did not 
 know. I felt stunned. I was afraid to risk such a 
 scandal. I let him seat himself in the car, and drove 
 him where he would. 
 
 "We went up Riverside, and, by the way, he hinted
 
 58 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 at hush-money. He would take ten thousand francs," 
 Fanchette held up her hands in mute, stricken pro- 
 test "and swear that he had not seen me. I told him 
 that I had only five thousand in my possession, and, in 
 the end, he agreed to accept that sum. We went back 
 . to the bank and he stayed outside while I closed my ac- 
 count. And he took it all from me as the price of 
 silence. But I didn't grudge it for that, Fanchette." 
 
 Fanchette nodded, and shook her head, speechlessly. 
 
 "It was late enough then, and I begged him to let 
 me go at once since he could wring nothing more 
 from me, but he wouldn't. He made me take him to 
 the Park and about the streets on the west side. Twice 
 we stopped and I had to accompany him into cafes, 
 common places where everyone stared at us strangely, 
 and afterwards he insisted on my drawing up at a res- 
 taurant he pointed out, where he ordered dinner. 
 
 "I had no option but to obey him lest he should 
 create a disturbance, and he made mock of my protests. 
 At dinner he drank champagne, and became still more 
 dictatorial. He had a dispute with the waiter he 
 shamed me bitterly in that place and when that was 
 over would have had me take him back into the car. 
 But I was desperate then. I struck him as he would 
 have entered, and drove him away before he recovered 
 his wits." 
 
 "You were very brave, dear heart," said Fanchette 
 soothingly, for the girl's eyes were downcast as though 
 in shame. "You were brave indeed ! A pity the blow 
 did not end the rascal! But you did well." 
 
 "Then I was still further delayed, for the car broke 
 down on a lonely stretch of road not far from this side 
 of the ferry, and it cost me some time and trouble to
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 59 
 
 get it to go again. I made all the speed I could, Fan- 
 chette, knowing that you would be waiting up for me, 
 but I couldn't do any better than this." 
 
 "Eat and drink now," Fanchette commanded, ignor- 
 ing all else in her sympathy for the spent traveler. "Eat 
 and drink now, and then sleep. Afterwards there will 
 be time to think for the future. 
 
 "See here is milk from the ice and cold chicken, 
 and salad. And I have an omelette ready to set on the 
 fire, and the coffee is brewing. Eat then. We are still 
 safe." 
 
 She hovered over the girl, and pressed on her the 
 simple dishes prepared with such care, restraining with 
 a commendable effort the question trembling on the 
 tip of her tongue. But at length the time came when 
 she might ask it without ill effect. 
 
 "And Monsieur? Will he give up the search now, 
 ma'mselle?" 
 
 The girl dropped her dimpled chin on her palm and 
 stared out across the sea as she answered. 
 
 "I don't know, Fanchette. Jules made no promise 
 except that he would keep silent himself, and and let 
 me go. 
 
 "How much money have you left in our treasury?" 
 
 Fanchette went through to the tidy kitchen which 
 was her domain and brought back a black oaken coffer, 
 from which she proceeded to count out a handful of 
 bills and small change. 
 
 "A hundred francs in all, ma'mselle," she replied, 
 making use of the more imposing currency with an 
 indomitable optimism. "Quite a large sum, and 
 enough to keep us for some time with care. I shall 
 manage to make ends meet, never fear.
 
 60 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 "And now your room is all ready, if you will lie down 
 and rest." 
 
 But the girl did not immediately take the hint. She 
 sat where she was for a little, endeavoring to see some 
 way out of the tangle in which she found herself. She 
 could see none, and at length arose. 
 
 "There's one thing certain," she told herself with 
 discouraging frankness. "Twenty dollars won't last us 
 long, in America. We must have more money without 
 delay, in case we're discovered here. We must sell the 
 car." 
 
 "Fanchette," she said, raising her voice, "I'm afraid 
 there's nothing for it but to sell the car." 
 
 "Eh, bien," responded Fanchette from beyond, en- 
 couragingly. "What matter? so that by such means 
 we escape Monsieur." 
 
 But when her almost exhausted charge was at length 
 safe between the sheets, Fanchette found in the news 
 she had heard cause more than sufficient for the grav- 
 est apprehension. 
 
 "What chance has my lamb to escape?" she ques- 
 tioned despairingly of the dumb kitchen utensils. 
 "What chance has my lamb with Monsieur le Due 
 hard at hand. 
 
 "A duke and much worse than a wolf!"
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 THE RAT-FACED FRENCHMAN HAS WORDS WITH MON- 
 SIEUR AT THE ST. REGULUS 
 
 It was nearly noon before a stray shaft of sunshine, 
 falling across M. le Due's pallid face as he lay sleeping 
 soddenly in his luxurious chamber at the St. Regulus 
 after a most wearisome night-journey from Chicago, 
 woke him to blinking consciousness of his uncared for 
 condition. 
 
 He gaped, and yawned, and struck at the blinding 
 ray, irritably but without effect, caught sight of the 
 clock, and sat up with an exclamation of anger. The 
 intrusion of daylight before he desired it was quite in- 
 excusable, there was no sign of his morning choco- 
 late or Courier, his dusty clothes were lying untended 
 where he had left them, the room was empty save 
 for himself. Where the devil was Jules! Of what 
 avail was a valet who did not attend to his duties ! He 
 reached for the bell-push, and pushed it hard. 
 
 A red-headed bell-boy appeared with a pitcher of 
 distilled water fresh from the ice. 
 
 "Send my servant," said Monsieur, in elegant 
 French, and the boy, having bowed with great outward 
 deference, left him to brood over his many wrongs. 
 
 It was Jules' advice which had sent him off on a 
 fool's errand to Chicago, that city of an almost incon- 
 ceivable repugnance to a Parisian of taste. He had 
 
 61
 
 62 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 traveled incognito, unattended, with the common herd. 
 He had been subject to all the discomforts democracy 
 ever invented to harass a harmless aristocrat. He had 
 not been able to sleep in the train, and, when he had 
 once more reached the St. Regulus, at half past eight 
 in the morning, he had to turn on his own hot bath 
 and get into bed without help because Jules could 
 not be found. The recapitulation of these and a num- 
 ber of other fermenting grievances much inflamed 
 Monsieur. And, even now, no one came hurrying to 
 his assistance. He rang a second time. 
 
 He was still absent-mindedly pressing the button on 
 the wall behind him when the red-headed youth re- 
 appeared, with a further supply of ice water. 
 
 "Phwat's eatin' yez?" he demanded, his words not 
 at all in accord witk his attitude of polite attention, but 
 safe in the knowledge that Monsieur had no under- 
 standing of Irish-American. 
 
 "Are ye stuck to th' wire, or thryin' to bore a hole 
 through th' wall, ye frog-eatin' Frinchman?" 
 
 "Holy name of a dog!" cried the object of his apos- 
 trophe in fervent Gallic. "Remove me these poisonous 
 pitchers swiftly. Is it that you think I have a stomach 
 of leather, rascal and fool ! It is chocolate I ask for, and 
 Jules, my servant. Send Jules Chevrel to me. Thou- 
 sand thunders ! Was there ever such a dunce ! Where 
 is Jules ? Send me Jules !" 
 
 "Awright," said the red-headed boy, bowing still 
 more deeply. "Quit yelpin', an' kape yer wool on. I'll 
 dig out Jool, since it's him ye're afther. Why didn't 
 ye say so before." 
 
 He once more withdrew, closing the door delicately 
 behind him, and Monsieur threw himself back on his
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 63 
 
 pillows with a great air of exhaustion. But when Jules 
 Chevrel did at length arrive, a short, thick-set man, 
 close-cropped after the French fashion, carrying a cup 
 of chocolate in one unsteady hand, and in the other a 
 morning paper, his shifty eyes, bloodshot and bilious, 
 his employer had still enough energy left to berate him 
 roundly. 
 
 "You were drunk again last night, Jules," he com- 
 plained in conclusion of a long tirade to which the 
 other had listened indifferently. 
 
 "I was sober," Jules contradicted insolently. 
 
 "Have the goodness to hand me my boots," Mon- 
 sieur begged, getting half out of bed in his rage over 
 such futile untruth. 
 
 "You don't want boots on your bare feet," Jules ob- 
 jected. "You aren't going to bathe in your boots. 
 What do you want your boots for?" 
 
 "I want them to kick you down stairs with, you 
 scoundrel !" cried Monsieur, but Jules merely darted a 
 glance of contempt at him and went on with his own 
 occupations unmoved. He would have a card or two 
 to produce from his sleeve ere he should be kicked 
 down stairs, and, in any case, the threat was a thread- 
 bare metaphor. 
 
 Monsieur subsided presently, taking without objec- 
 tion the cup which was handed to him in place of the 
 boots he had asked for. But he did not altogether 
 forego his verbal complaint. 
 
 "Why did I bring you with me from Paris?" he 
 grumbled bitterly, while Jules laid out his morning cos- 
 tume for him. "Because you can speak the barbarous 
 language they use in this barbarous country, and that 
 you might be of assistance to me in my search. I
 
 64 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 place myself thus in your power, and how do you help 
 me? By getting drunk! 
 
 "You urge me on wild-goose chases in all directions. 
 I go. What happens? I lose still more time and 
 money. 
 
 "Look you, Jules. There is now enough of this 
 folly. The next time it happens you go back to Paris, 
 and I find a valet de place, who will assuredly prove of 
 more service than you." 
 
 "Is it my fault," growled Jules disrespectfully, "that 
 it takes a little time to find a needle in such a hay- 
 stack? Have riot I toiled devotedly to serve Mon- 
 sieur? Monsieur forgets, it seems " 
 
 "I forget nothing, Jules," Monsieur broke in, in a 
 tone more placable. He did not care to be reminded of 
 some services Jules had done him. "I forget nothing, 
 and when the time comes, you will not find me un- 
 grateful." 
 
 "When you get hold of the girl, you mean," mut- 
 tered Jules to himself in the bathroom, "I may get the 
 smallest possible share of the plunder if I can force 
 you to disgorge." It was painfully evident that Mon- 
 sieur was no hero to his own valet. "But I know a 
 trick worth two of that, mon ami. I'll squeeze her 
 purse first, and yours afterwards since it will be better 
 filled then. I wish I had not so foolishly let her slip 
 through my fingers last night, but I'll find her again. 
 And, in the meantime, I suppose I must humor you." 
 
 "Monsieur's bath is ready," he said aloud, coming 
 back to the bedroom. He was sober enough now, and 
 had all his wits about him again. While Monsieur was 
 absent his man's brain was busy, and when he emerged 
 from the bathroom, it had been decided that he was to
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 65 
 
 hear nothing of Jules Chevrel's chance encounter with 
 the object of their joint quest. That worthy did not 
 intend to enlighten him as to the girl's proximity until 
 it should suit his own convenience to do so. 
 
 "Events will develop themselves," Jules assured 
 himself with great philosophy. "And when I find her 
 again, as I certainly shall, she will pay dearly for any 
 extra trouble I may have, before I turn her over to 
 Monsieur. What are five thousand francs to her? 
 Pcste! A mere bagatelle." 
 
 He helped his employer to dress, and, by the time 
 that operation was over, both were in much better tem- 
 per; Monsieur because he felt glad to be back on Fifth 
 Avenue, which was the nearest approach to his be- 
 loved boulevards of which he knew in America, and 
 Jules Chevrel because he would shortly be free for the 
 afternoon. The one was once more suavely patroniz- 
 ing, the other smoothly respectful, before they parted, 
 Monsieur to stroll down to Sherry's for a late break- 
 fast, his valet to lunch lavishly at a less expensive re- 
 sort and plan a subsequent airing at three-dollars-fifty 
 an hour, to be charged to his master's account. 
 
 While he ate, Jules was thinking of what he had seen 
 after the girl had left him at Martin's. The surface car 
 he had caught had carried him quickly up Broadway, 
 and, by good luck, he had sighted her in her automobile 
 as she had turned west. He had cunningly deduced 
 that she would double back, either to the North River 
 ferry at Twenty-third street or round to the Eas-ttRiver. 
 
 With only that slender clue to guide him he made 
 up his mind that it would be wise to look for her on 
 Long Island first. 
 
 He hired a small motor car, and having made in-
 
 66 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 quiry about her at the New York dock without re- 
 sult, crossed to Long Island City. On that side, he 
 discovered a dock-hand who recalled having seen a 
 lady alone in a runabout leave the boat some time be- 
 tween nine and ten on the previous night, and from the 
 description he got of her had no doubt that it must 
 have been the girl he was seeking. But which way 
 she had gone no one could inform him, and, while he 
 stood there debating the best road to follow, a big new 
 touring car passed at an easy pace. 
 
 He ducked down behind his own inconspicuous 
 turn-out: he had recognized at the wheel of the c';her, 
 beside a grey-haired individual unknown to him, the 
 man he had seen overnight at Martin's. A sudden, 
 unclean suspicion shot through his mind. He 
 promptly decided to act on that. 
 
 Quaintance had not been idle since he and O'Ferral 
 had parted, during the small hours and after a pro- 
 longed interchange of confidence. He had found it 
 vain to seek sleep, on his first night in the noisy city 
 and while his brain was yet busy with the strange 
 events of the evening. Dawn had found him pacing 
 his room in pyjamas and dressing-gown, a cold pipe 
 between his teeth. 
 
 He had been thinking of many things during the 
 dark hours, but chiefly of a face too fair to be soon for- 
 gotten. He had been wondering whether, if need 
 were, he could forget it in time. And daylight brought 
 clear understanding. He could not. 
 
 His half-formed purpose crystalized, assumed con- 
 crete shape. He must find her again, at all costs. By 
 eight o'clock he had O'Ferral, only half awake, on the 
 'phone, and immediately after breakfast presented
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 67 
 
 himself, with a most efficacious card from his friend, at 
 a spacious showroom on Broadway. He promptly 
 possessed himself, on approval, of a high-powered and 
 no less high-priced modern model of all that an auto- 
 mobile should be. 
 
 Then, as soon as he could get in touch with O'Ferral 
 again, he had insisted on taking him out for a trial 
 spin. 
 
 The correspondent had his own manifold affairs to 
 attend to, but he had also a noteworthy knack of com- 
 bining pleasure with business. By a curious coinci- 
 dence he was called to Rockaway Beach. If Quaint- 
 ance could carry him thither, and back to the Cornu- 
 copia Club, it would be quite convenient to join him. 
 Quaintance could. Quaintance picked him up at 
 Thirty-fourth street from the Third Avenue L. They 
 crossed the ferry together, and headed by way of Ja- 
 maica to Lynbrook then back through Far Rockaway 
 and Arverne to the beach, where they drew up at the 
 Inn, alighted, refreshed themselves, and strolled to- 
 ward the shore. 
 
 Jules Chevrel, following at a safe distance, also 
 stopped at the Inn for long enough to absorb two 
 brimming bumpers of absinthe frappee it is dry work 
 driving a hired car on a hot afternoon and set out to 
 dog them afoot. 
 
 They turned slowly along the boardwalk, discussing 
 the points and performance of Quaintance's purchase, 
 and, these all disposed of, returned to the topic upper- 
 most in that gentleman's mind, a topic which had al- 
 ready been touched upon at frequent intervals. 
 
 "I wish I had got a better view of the runabout that 
 girl was driving last night," he remarked. "I don't
 
 68 
 
 believe I'd know it again unless she were in it her- 
 self." 
 
 "I should," answered his companion, a quick under- 
 standing smile wrinkling his thin face. "It was a Cadil- 
 lac, two-seated, model Q, '06, lacquered in olive-green 
 without relief, dark canvas Cape-cart hood, three head- 
 lamps. Most of the brasswork had been coated over, 
 to save cleaning. The only thing I couldn't get a line 
 on was the number but it was too thick with dust." 
 
 "You're a marvel," said Quaintance approvingly. 
 "When special corresponding becomes a lost art, you 
 ought to get good pay as a detective. I couldn't have 
 told it off so concisely even if I had seen the car. How 
 did you manage to notice so much in such a short time, 
 eh?" 
 
 "The faculty of observation," retorted his friend. 
 "In my trade one has to be as quick as a snapshot and 
 accurate as an adding machine at the same time. I'd 
 have been dead and buried a long time ago if I hadn't 
 learned the trick young. And, besides, I had a good 
 look at the thing. 
 
 "I'll give you another bit of my mind if you like, 
 Steve. I've figured it out backwards and by deduc- 
 tion, but I'll let you have it right end up. You re- 
 member the rat-faced Frenchman?" 
 
 "I do," said Quaintance concisely. 
 
 "And a cheap-looking car we passed just outside the 
 dock gates in Long Island City?" 
 
 "I didn't notice it particularly." 
 
 "Well, the Frenchman was with it. He followed us 
 down here. He's close to us at this moment." 
 
 "Where?" asked Quaintance eagerly. 
 
 "Keep cool," requested O'Ferral, gripping him by
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 69 
 
 the arm as he would have turned. "Be more circum- 
 spect, confound you. What d'you want to do?" 
 
 "I want to spread him to the four winds," confessed 
 his companion. "I want to feed the fishes with him. 
 Last night I offered the girl a seat when he left her 
 standing while he was away wrangling with a waiter 
 about ten cents. When he came back he gave me a 
 scowl that would have earned him a broken neck then 
 if she hadn't been looking on. Let me have just a 
 couple of words with him, and I'll be as circumspect 
 as an oyster." 
 
 "W T hat you're going to do at present is to ignore 
 him," O'Ferral explained peremptorily. 
 
 "And the reason why," he continued, as Quaintance 
 reluctantly fell into step with him again, "is that we 
 want to find out first what his little game is. It's my 
 belief that he's out after the girl too, and, if she's any- 
 where in this neighborhood, we'll let him find her for 
 us. I have an idea that he thinks you know a good 
 deal more than you do about her. We don't need to 
 undeceive him, and while he's hanging about here 
 she's safe from him." 
 
 "True for you," agreed Quaintance upon cogitation, 
 and frowning. "He's a thoroughly bad egg, that fel- 
 low, and he seemed to have some hold over her. I'd 
 give a great deal to find her again, O'Ferral, and, when 
 I do, " 
 
 "If you do," corrected his friend. 
 
 "When I do," he repeated stubbornly, "I'll make 
 quite sure what it was and then settle scores with him. 
 Meantime I suppose I must just lie low." 
 
 "But what will you do if you find she's married, or,
 
 70 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 what's still more likely, engaged to be married to 
 somebody else?" O'Ferral asked gravely. 
 
 "She wore no rings," retorted Quaintance. "She's 
 free still, and that's why I'm in such a hurry. Let's 
 turn back and get a drink I'm thirsty." 
 
 They faced about, and the Frenchman, who had 
 drawn closer as they slowed down, suddenly found 
 himself confronting them. They drew to one side, and 
 waited for him to pass. 
 
 A wiser man would have gone on his way and 
 avoided their vicinity from that time forward. Their 
 steady stare boded Jules Chevrel no great grace if he 
 should give further offence. But the Frenchman's 
 mind was bemused by the drink he had swallowed 
 in the hot sunshine, and he was in no mood to be brow- 
 beaten. He stopped, and eyed them with swaggering 
 self-assertion. They waited for him to speak. He did 
 so, addressing himself to Quaintance. 
 
 "You speak French?" he inquired unceremoni- 
 ously, in that language, and Quaintance nodded. 
 
 "You are no doubt on intimate terms with the lady 
 who sat at your table in Martin's last night during my 
 unavoidable absence?" 
 
 Quaintance stepped very quietly up to him, while 
 O'Ferral remained in the background unmoved, con- 
 tentedly puffing at his Havana and noting with satis- 
 faction that there was not likely to be any crowd. 
 
 "See here, my man," Quaintance said, in quick, ner- 
 vous English, "I'll give you one chance to go on un- 
 hurt, though you don't deserve it. Another word in 
 that strain and I'll manhandle you." 
 
 The Frenchman apparently understood him per-
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 71 
 
 fectly, but ignored the warning and went on in his own 
 tongue. 
 
 "I want her address." 
 
 "What you want and what you're going to get are 
 two very different things," said Quaintance, his lips 
 compressed. "Put your hands up I'm going to be- 
 gin." 
 
 "I want her address," the Frenchman repeated ob- 
 stinately. "And you will do well to beware what you 
 are about. If you are abetting her in " 
 
 Quaintance's fist shot out, but the vicious eyes were 
 too wide awake to encounter that, and he had to spring 
 back with all his agility to escape a dangerous boot- 
 heel which had appeared where his enemy's head had 
 been and within an inch of his own chin. The French- 
 man was minded to fight with his feet, and was no 
 mean exponent of la savate. He had indeed counted 
 on that inelegant science to save him from a bout of 
 fisticuffs, and was the more dismayed to find his op- 
 ponent also a past-master in all its arts. 
 
 Quaintance had caught at his ankle, and closed 
 in so quickly that a savage kick from the free foot, 
 which would otherwise have disabled him, no more 
 than grazed his knee. He grasped it also, and, tucking 
 both under his left arm, seized the struggling French- 
 man by his coat-collar, plucked him off the ground al- 
 together. He hung, helplessly clutching and clawing, 
 in mid-air, while Quaintance, breathing heavily, car- 
 ried him to the water's edge and cast him seawards 
 with all the swing of two muscular arms. 
 
 It was high tide at Rockaway and the human projec- 
 tile came down with a squelching splash, greatly to 
 the amusement of the few spectators whom O'Ferral
 
 72 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 had been keeping in the background and who now ac- 
 claimed Quaintance's tour de force with that pleasant 
 impartiality for which American audiences are so justly 
 famous. 
 
 The Frenchman rose, spluttering, all the fight 
 washed out of him. There was to be no further enter- 
 tainment for the onlookers. He clambered ashore, 
 dripping, hatless, pushed through them as soon as 
 Quaintance had spoken a few low, menacing words to 
 him, and went toward the Inn, swearing blood-curd- 
 ling oaths to himself but without looking back. 
 
 Having rough-dried himself there and donned a coat 
 he made for Manhattan at speed, planning prompt re- 
 venge for the cruel indignity Quaintance had put upon 
 him. 
 
 "They are thus indeed intimate, he and she ! And 
 it will be safest to strike him through her," said the 
 valiant Jules to himself, his first suspicion as to the 
 stranger's interest in his own quarry confirmed by the 
 incident in which he had perforce played such a shame- 
 ful part, his whole mind bent on condign revenge. "It 
 will hurt him most to see her suffer, and I shall al- 
 ways be there, looking on. And Monsieur must play 
 the catspaw for me." 
 
 Still chewing the sweet cud of such schemes, he 
 reached the St. Regulus some time before Monsieur 
 came in from his afternoon promenade, and tended to 
 all the details of that connoisseur's evening toilet so 
 deftly as to win a word of approval. Whereupoo he 
 opened fire on his absent enemy, at long range, from a 
 masked battery. 
 
 "I have news for Monsieur to-night," he mumbled,
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 73 
 
 a stud in his mouth. "I do not think that it will be 
 very long now before we strike the true trail." 
 
 "Proceed, Jules," cried Monsieur eagerly as his valet 
 paused to slip the stud into place. "What news? And 
 whence? Is it that you have seen her?" 
 
 "I have not seen her myself," Jules lied glibly, "but 
 I have found those who have. It is not in Chicago that 
 she resides, but close to New York, on Long Island." 
 
 "Sacrebleu! Then why do you dress me like this?" 
 cried his master, excitedly. "Let us go there at once, 
 my good Jules. Why did you not tell me before ! She 
 may yet escape us if we lose a moment." 
 
 He tore off the white cravat which Jules had just 
 knotted so neatly about his collar, threw it to one side, 
 kicked at his man with the foot whose shoe that suf- 
 ferer was in process of fastening. 
 
 "Ten thousand devils !" said he. "Why did you not 
 tell me before? She may yet escape us."
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 CORNOYER ENTERTAINS A CORPSE AT THE CORNUCOPIA 
 
 CLUB 
 
 "You'd better look out for your rat-faced friend, if 
 you ever run across him again," said O'Ferral, in 
 Quaintance's car on the way back to Manhattan from 
 Rockaway Beach. "You handled him neatly enough, 
 but I felt a bit nervous when he kicked out." 
 
 "I learned the tackle for la savate when I was living 
 on the Boule-St-Mich," returned his companion indif- 
 ferently. 
 
 "He's lost track of the girl, O'Ferral. That's one 
 comfort. And I'm going to find her again before he 
 does." 
 
 "I wish you luck in your quest." O'Ferral's tone 
 was dubious. "It will perhaps keep you out of mis- 
 chief, but I rather doubt the result." 
 
 Quaintance made no retort but looked steadily 
 ahead of him, his jaw set. 
 
 "Don't take the thing so seriously," urged the cor- 
 respondent. "There are more girls than one in the 
 world, and you've just got rid of another at some sac- 
 rifice. You've tricked fate, the jade, very cleverly once 
 already. Be careful, in case she retaliates !" 
 
 "She's tripped me up twice within twenty-four 
 hours," answered Quaintance gloomily. "First at the 
 bank on Fifth Avenue and then at Martin's. I'll see 
 that she doesn't find it so easy a third time." 
 
 74
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 75 
 
 "I wish / had nothing to do but go gadding about 
 after pretty girls in olive-green autos," observed 
 O'Ferral with a soulful sigh. "But if I owned a few 
 rose-diamonds and touring cars and trifles of that sort 
 with a fat bank account on the side I'd be inclined 
 to fight shy of fate. I'd - 
 
 "If you meant to marry a girl, what would you do?" 
 Quaintance demanded abruptly. 
 
 "Why, marry her." 
 
 "And if you had lost sight of her for the moment ?" 
 
 "I'd find her again. No, no! I mean that I'd think 
 things over dispassionately and decide that I wasn't 
 so badly off as a bachelor after all." 
 
 Quaintance laughed. 
 
 "Old ass!" said he, affectionately. 
 
 "But there will be no golden-haired girls in my 
 wretched autobiography," O'Ferral resumed presently. 
 "No time in my trade for any such relaxation. It's a 
 very wearing existence, Steve. When I get up in the 
 morning I never know when or where I may sleep 
 again. You ought to be much more grateful for all 
 your mercies." 
 
 "I'm grateful enough," argued Quaintance. "It's 
 you who are grumbling. Give it over. You've got 
 something on your mind. What is it?" 
 
 O'Ferral laughed in his turn. 
 
 "You're a bit of a thought-reader too, Steve," said 
 he, "and I'll let you into the secret. I'm under orders 
 again." 
 
 "Already!" ejaculated Quaintance indignantly. 
 "Where for? And when do you sail? I thought they 
 were going to give you an easier time for a few months 
 at any rate ! I was counting on your company."
 
 76 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 "I don't know where for, or when," responded 
 O'Ferral, "and, if I did, it would be against all rules 
 to tell anyone, even you. But someone's in trouble 
 somewhere, and I'm standing by to start at a moment's 
 notice. I had to offer to go, you see, because they 
 wouldn't have sent me otherwise, after agreeing to let 
 me have six months at home." 
 
 "What rotten luck!" said Quaintance in comment, 
 and to that his friend nodded solemn assent. 
 
 It was yet early afternoon when they drew up in 
 front of the Cornucopia Club, and, having left the car 
 at the kerb in care of the hall-boy, passed indoors to- 
 gether. Quaintance was inspecting the painted panels 
 with which the vestibule is adorned, while O'Ferral 
 was busy inditing his friend's name in the visitors' 
 book, when a gust of laughter resounded from over- 
 head and the correspondent looked up with a quick 
 smile. 
 
 "Cornoyer again, for a wager!" said he. "You 
 haven't met Jean Jacques, have you, Quain er 
 Newman?" 
 
 Quaintance shook his head, frowning. 
 
 "See if you can't get my name off by heart before 
 you begin introducing me," he requested with pardon- 
 able asperity. "I'm A. Newman now, and that's what 
 you want to write me down there, too." 
 
 "All right, Steve," returned O'Ferral soothingly as 
 he rose from the volume before him. "There it is, in 
 black and white, see: 'A. Newman introduced by 
 O. O'Ferral.' Come on upstairs, and we'll hear what 
 J. J.'s been up to." 
 
 He ordered drinks of the grinning black boy in the 
 little bar at the top of a winding stairway whose every
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 77; 
 
 panel also contained a picture, and, entering a com- 
 modious chamber beyond, fourrd there, comfortably es- 
 tablished in easy-chairs by the big open windows, a 
 dozen or more men who received O'Ferral with 
 jocular acclamation. It seemed that the correspondent 
 was not unpopular with his fellow members, and that 
 those present were in hilarious mood. 
 
 The Cornucopia Club does not inhabit any of these 
 palatial premises on Fifth Avenue which house so 
 many of its pretentious compeers. It has its own 
 snug home in a modest brown-stone mansion not far 
 removed from Madison Square, and the carefully pol- 
 ished Horn of Plenty which is its emblem and pride 
 has hung in the hall there for so many years that none 
 of its hierophants would care to see it established else- 
 where. 
 
 They are, on the contrary, a most conservative body 
 of men, recruited with care from among such as are 
 not the mere slaves of fashion, and strongly adverse to 
 all change liable to interfere with an old-fashioned 
 comfort. The Cornucopia is not a club for the frivolous 
 worldling, but rather for those who, with individual 
 bodies and brains, seek rational freedom, unhampered 
 by newfangled by-laws, for both. Within its portals 
 a man may even smoke his pipe where he pleases. 
 
 Quaintance liked the look of the place and its peo- 
 ple, to whom, in a body, O'Ferral had presented him 
 and who had welcomed him hospitably. The boy 
 brought him a long glass, abrim with liquid amber, and 
 after he had half-emptied that, he found time to take 
 further stock of his new friends. He was especially in- 
 terested in one whom the others addressed as "J. J./' 
 which, as he had understood from O'Ferral, stood for
 
 78 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 Jean Jacques Cornoyer, and who was suffering from a 
 very black eye. 
 
 This M. Cornoyer was further conspicuous in such 
 society by reason of his apparel. He was garbed in a 
 long frock-coat with voluminous tails, pearl-grey 
 pants, stiffly creased and of the peg-top variety, patent- 
 leather shoes, sharply pointed, encased in spats. A 
 tall, stiff collar encompassed his neck, and was orna- 
 mented with a sky-blue butterfly-bow almost as exotic 
 as the orchid in the lapel of his coat. His features were 
 somewhat irregular, and singularly plastic. The sight 
 of his sound eye was obscured by the monocle he had 
 thrust into it. His hair was dressed in the style of that 
 on the business side of a shoe-black's brush. He wore 
 neither beard nor moustache. 
 
 And, even as O'Ferral had surmised, it was his latest 
 and most misguided adventure into the night life of 
 Manhattan which had provided the gathering with food 
 for mirth. 
 
 "I have put my feet into the hot water, right up to 
 the elbow," he explained to Quaintance in a quite irre- 
 producible mixture of French and English, his expres- 
 sion of repentant melancholy giving way to a gleefully 
 reminiscent grin. "I have been hit zass! pataploum! 
 in the eye. I have been in prison all night vive the 
 glorious land of liberty! This morning they fine me 
 five plunks. It is scandalous ! shocking !" 
 
 "Cheer up, old cock !" cried the man beside him 
 and clapped him consolingly on the shoulder. "Cheer 
 up, old cock ! and I'll buy you a high ball. You were 
 no worse off than I was when all's said and done." 
 
 "This gent was with me," Cornoyer remarked, some- 
 what stiffly, his face suddenly composed to a mournful
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 79 
 
 gravity, as Quaintarice looked over at the jovial 
 stranger, a tall, broad-shouldered man, brown-faced, 
 alert, bluffly at his ease and yet, in some intangible 
 aspect, out of tone with the rest of the company. He 
 had been looking about him with a keen, appraising 
 glance before he had cut into Cornoyer's conversation. 
 Quaintance took quick inward exception to him and 
 was inclined to think the less of the Cornucopia, but 
 recollected that he himself might not be the only visitor 
 there. A supposition which was soon confirmed. 
 
 The unknown nodded to him, and, 
 
 "J. J.'s a genuine sport !" he exclaimed. "Hey, boy ! 
 Bring three high balls." 
 
 "None for me," Quaintance begged, and Cornoyer 
 gravely amended the order. 
 
 "One high ball," he told the waiter, who had been 
 looking to him as though for confirmation, and Quaint- 
 ance noticed that he also signed the check for that 
 when it came in due course. It was evident that the 
 other, who drank it thirstily, had come there as his 
 guest. But that individual was in no wise abashed by 
 the trifling incident. 
 
 "J. J.'s a genuine sport!" he repeated. "I'm going 
 to get him to put me up for membership here. A den 
 like this is just what I need, to drop into when I'm 
 in town. Is there a card-room upstairs, J. J. ?" 
 
 Cornoyer replied civilly, and, in the interval, Quaint- 
 ance turned to O'Ferral, to escape the onus of further 
 intercourse with the too genial outsider. The others 
 had gathered into groups, all talking, listening, laugh- 
 ing among themselves. O'Ferral drew his friend to- 
 ward one of these, and Quaintance might have forgot- 
 ten the couple behind him but for stray sentences
 
 8o A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 which reached him from their direction and which he 
 could not but overhear. "And, say, J. ].," the stranger 
 exclaimed, blatantly regardless of his host's politely 
 uninterested pose, including the rest of the room in a 
 rakish wink, "I met a peach, a pippin, last night on my 
 way in from Long Beach. I give you my word that 
 she was the pick of the basket, a full-blown American 
 Beauty and ripe to the minute. 
 
 "She was driving her own little car, and it had broken 
 down just as I came along in my racer, a Cadillac too. 
 It didn't take me long to diagnose its complaint, a sim- 
 ple enough one and yet most confoundedly hard to 
 locate the first time you run up against it, but I wasn't 
 going to give her the proper prescription at once for 
 nothing, you may bet you boots! I held her up long 
 enough to " 
 
 He lowered his voice, and the rest of his story was 
 almost inaudible. But all could hear the coarse 
 chuckle with which it concluded, and Quaintance's 
 blood boiled at the thought that it might have been, 
 that it all too probably had been the distressed damsel 
 in whom he himself was so deeply interested who had 
 fallen into the clutches of this obnoxious boor. And 
 only a quick, instinctive sense of the consideration he 
 owed O'Ferral saved Cornoyer's friend from prompt 
 retribution, the club from the consequent scandal. 
 
 He sat still, till he had simmered down sufficiently 
 to interrogate the offender unmoved, and, turning to 
 confront him with the intention of finding out all he 
 wanted to know by dint of casual inquiry before invit- 
 ing that individual to accompany him to some spot 
 more suitable for further argument, found that Cor- 
 noyer and he had left the room. Another man spoke
 
 8i 
 
 to him as he was about to spring to his feet and give 
 chase. He answered at random and, rising, interrupted 
 O'Ferral, deep in discussion with someone else as to 
 the comparative merits of art commercial and art for 
 art's sake. 
 
 "I'd like to have a few words with Cornoyer's 
 friend," he explained in apology and moved toward the 
 door. 
 
 O'Ferral followed him. 
 
 "They're probably in the card room," said he. "I'll 
 take you up. D'you know the fellow?" 
 
 Quaintance hurriedly told him the story he had over- 
 heard, and O'Ferral frowned. 
 
 "I'll have to talk to J. J.," he growled, "about bring- 
 ing a loafer of that sort here. But keep cool, Steve. 
 Don't lose your temper. It may not have been the 
 same girl." 
 
 "It's high time, none the less, that a loafer of that 
 sort was called to account," retorted that doughty 
 champion of the defenceless. "I'm not in the Galahad 
 line myself, but I'd draw on any such scum at sight." 
 
 The card room, however, was empty, and neither 
 Cornoyer nor the other was to be seen in the library. 
 
 "Billiard room," said O'Ferral, and they dived down- 
 stairs again : but with no better result. They found the 
 marker alone, and his grin of welcome faded as they 
 turned back in the doorway. 
 
 Quaintance uttered a grunt of disgust as he heard 
 the hall-boy inform O'Ferral that Mr. Cornoyer and 
 his friend had gone out five minutes before, and when, 
 on an inspiration, he turned up the visitors' book, he 
 gave vent to a still louder ejaculation, one still more 
 strongly indicative of discontented surprise.
 
 82 
 
 O'Ferral came across to him, and, peering over his 
 shoulder, read aloud softly a line at the foot of a full 
 page, which said, 
 
 "Stephen Quaintance introduced by J. J. Cor- 
 noyer." 
 
 He turned, to look wryly at O'Ferral, and O'Ferral, 
 forehead wrinkled, returned his glance gravely enough 
 although not without suspicion of a lurking smile. The 
 hall-boy looked on, ready to laugh if, as he inferred, 
 there should be some jest in progress. But no more 
 words passed. Quaintance closed the book with a 
 bang. The two turned upstairs again, and scarcely had 
 they disappeared when Cornoyer came in. 
 
 "A nice sort of namesake, Steve!" commented 
 O'Ferral, steering his friend toward a quiet corner. 
 "It's probably just as well that Here's J. J. again! 
 Let's hear what he has to say for himself. 
 
 "Well, J. J. ? You're a nice sort of " 
 
 Cornoyer came forward, his monocle dropped, his 
 face expressing most abject penitence. 
 
 "I have put my foot into the hot water, right up to 
 the elbow," said he once more, "but I did not know 
 at the first that he was not a gentleman. And so I 
 asked him here to luncheon. And it was not possible 
 then to turn him away from the door. But I have give 
 him the mitt, O'Ferral, as quick as I could." 
 
 "All right, all right," responded his mentor. "I'm 
 not complaining. 
 
 "Don't do it again, but since he was here I just 
 wish you had kept him a few minutes longer. Qu er 
 Newman wanted a few words with him." 
 
 "I couldn't help hearing some part of his conversa-
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 83 
 
 tion," said Quaintance. "What was the end of his 
 story about some girl he met in a motor?" 
 
 Cornoyer looked much relieved. His features in- 
 stantaneously changed to a mask of the most profound 
 contempt. 
 
 "Faff!" said he. "He told me she kissed him and 
 he let her go." 
 
 Quaintance's face flushed darkly. 
 
 "D'you know where he lives?" he demanded, and 
 "Tell us all you know about him, J. J.," supplemented 
 O'Ferral. 
 
 But, as it appeared, the information to be obtained 
 from Cornoyer was all too meagre to serve any practi- 
 cal purpose, and Quaintance had to forego, for the 
 present at any rate, his now almost overpowering am- 
 bition to inflict condign chastisement upon his un- 
 worthy namesake. 
 
 Cornoyer had come across him, he sorrowfully ex- 
 plained, at a somewhat dreary performance in an all- 
 night cafe uptown. They two had been simultaneously 
 inspired to improve on the programme, but, the man- 
 agement not approving of their impromptu duet, the}' 
 had been harshly required to discontinue all such gra- 
 tuitous vocal effort. Upon their failing to do so, the 
 forces of law and order had been appealed to, and 
 these had proved somewhat rough and ready. Cor- 
 noyer had acquired a black eye in the consequent 
 melee. The other had rallied gallantly to his assist- 
 ance. They had both spent the rest of the night in 
 durance, and, equally disreputable, pending repair, the 
 foolish invitation to further festivity had been extended 
 on one side, accepted on the other. 
 
 "But I did not know at the first that he was not a
 
 84 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 gentleman," repeated Cornoyer in apologetic conclu- 
 sion, and wriggled disconsolately in his arm-chair. 
 
 "You're a pernicious young scoundrel," O'Ferral 
 told him severely, "no sooner out of one scrape than 
 you're into another. But I suppose I'll have to forgive 
 you once more." 
 
 He laughed as the other's face suddenly lit up in a 
 dazzling smile. "Mind you don't do it again," he 
 added. "And if you see any more of that fellow let me 
 know without delay." 
 
 "On the instant," Cornoyer promised solemnly, and 
 so escaped. 
 
 "Pernicious young scoundrel !" repeated O'Ferral as 
 he fled. "I proposed him here, and I don't want to get 
 him into trouble. He was a great chum of mine in 
 Paris, and, he's going back next week. If you're ever 
 over, Steve, look him up. What he doesn't know 
 about that gay village isn't worth knowing, and he's 
 one of the Four Hundred there. His father held the 
 French Foreign portfolio before he died." 
 
 "No Paris for me in the meantime," said Quaint- 
 ance contentedly. "I've lots to occupy me in New 
 York and Long Island. It must have been she. I'll 
 look for her there first, anyhow." 
 
 O'Ferral did not answer these rambling remarks, 
 and they sat smoking silently for some time ere he 
 spoke. 
 
 "I've been thinking over the story you told me, 
 Steve, and the only weak spot I can see in your scheme 
 is that the dead man might never be found." 
 
 "Then my death would be assumed by default in due 
 course," his friend argued. "Miles Quaintance's law- 
 yers will trace all my movements. The officers at Fort
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 85 
 
 Bretonnet will testify, when the time comes, that I re- 
 ceived the only letter they had for me and then went 
 west, into cannibal country. I fail to turn up again. 
 The inference is obvious." 
 
 They fell to smoking again. 
 
 "But what would you do if someone else came for- 
 ward to claim what you've given up voluntarily?" 
 O'Ferral asked after a long interval. "The lawyers 
 will no doubt advertise, and suppose, for the sake of 
 argument, that Cornoyer's friend took a fancy to act 
 and the corpse came to life." 
 
 Quaintance threw back his head and let three smoke- 
 rings slip from his lips ere he answered. 
 
 "That's the most absurd supposition I've heard for 
 some time. But, in any case, I've made my discard. 
 Whatever may happen now I must play out the hand 
 I hold." 
 
 He laughed, lightheartedly. 
 
 "It would give Cornoyer a worse pain," said he, "to 
 think that he had been entertaining a corpse at his 
 club."
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 MR. ARENDSEN, OF DUANE STREET, SENDS FOR THE 
 
 POLICE 
 
 Cornoyer had hurriedly got rid of his all too genial 
 guest on the plea of a pressing prior engagement, and 
 that chance acquaintance, having bidden him an ef- 
 fusive farewell, set out in the direction of Broadway at 
 a swift pace without paying much attention to where he 
 was going. Although he had been more or less suc- 
 cessful in concealing the fact, his feelings had been 
 deeply ruffled by the other's urgency to get him off the 
 club premises. 
 
 "Lot o' snobs those chaps in the Cornucopia!" he 
 muttered disparagingly. "I've no use for snobs. Give 
 me plain, simple gentlemen like myself, without any 
 affectation of being better than their neighbors. 
 
 "But I did think that young Frenchman would 
 stand for a touch. If he'd even introduced me about 
 a bit, I might have got up a flutter at cards. But no 
 it was all to the door for mine ! 
 
 "And I'm getting deucedly near the end of my tether 
 too! That ramshackle motor comes pretty steep, and 
 I owe more at the hotel already than I can dazzle them 
 with if they lie down on me without warning. 
 
 "There's no use of beating about the bush, Dominic, 
 my boy, and this is no time for mere piking. Your for- 
 tune's made, you're a millionaire many times over, if 
 
 86
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 87 
 
 you'll only pluck up sufficient courage to face Black 
 Dirck." 
 
 He smote his leg with the cane he carried, and threw 
 out his chest in ostentatious bravado. 
 
 "Who's afraid of Black Dirck, anyhow?" he solilo- 
 quized sternly. 
 
 "And, even if I do happen to owe him a small sum, 
 I'll soon be able to wipe that off, with interest. With 
 interest, mark you. For Dominic Seager's dead hon- 
 est, just as soon as he can afford to be. And this is a 
 sure thing, a brass-bound cinch. I've proof enough to 
 convince a whole court of inquiry." 
 
 Thus holding communion with himself, and, at the 
 same time, bolstering up his moral courage, he 
 emerged, from the quieter street, on the floodway of 
 traffic. 
 
 "Better strike while the iron's hot," he advised him- 
 self, thus recalled to a sense of locality, and, as a sur- 
 face car pulled up at the corner, he sprang on board, 
 and went whirling away toward the Battery. 
 
 It may be conceded that this same Dominic Seager, 
 who had not flinched before the revolver aimed at him 
 by the girl on the broken-down runabout, was not lack- 
 ing in that physical quality which so often enables men 
 of his stamp to brave bodily danger unmoved. But it 
 must be admitted with equal frankness that, as he drew 
 rapidly nearer Duane street, he became mentally ill at 
 ease, his spirit of valor oozed from his finger tips. Had 
 the trolley on which he had been traveling stopped and 
 returned up town ere reaching his destination, he 
 would willingly have stayed in his seat. But it carried 
 him remorselessly to the point at which he must alight
 
 88 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 to reach Arendsen's office, and there he got out me- 
 chanically. 
 
 He licked his dry lips, but turned west without en- 
 tering any of the saloons in sight, and made his way 
 toward the river, spasmodically, reasoning with him- 
 self. 
 
 "If he'll only listen to me," he whispered uneasily, 
 slackening his pace, "before he flies into a Dutch fit 
 and does anything rash, I can soon make everything 
 right. But he's such a dangerous devil, that " 
 
 He slowed down still more perceptibly. 
 
 "Pooh !" said he, once more stepping out. "All there 
 is between us is a mere flea-bite compared with the 
 stake I can share with him now. I can convince him 
 that it will pay handsomely to let bygones be bygones. 
 All I ask is the ghost of a chance to lay down my cards. 
 But, will he give me that?" 
 
 He once more shortened his footsteps, hung back 
 indeterminately. 
 
 "If there were any other way out, I'd give half my 
 profits to find it," he thought, very ruefully, "but I 
 know only too well that there isn't, and I must have 
 some working capital or I'll lose all. That would be 
 worse than anything Black Dirck can do to me ! Now, 
 Dominic, take a deep breath and in you go. It's well 
 worth the risk." 
 
 He squared his shoulders again, and strode forward 
 without further parley or halt till he came to a dingy 
 door bedizened with an unclean brass plate bearing the 
 simple statement, 
 
 D. ARENDSEN, Inc. 
 Wholesale Hardware,
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 89 
 
 and, pushing it open, passed through, in impetuous 
 haste to commit himself to the course he desired to fol- 
 low. As it closed behind him a noiseless catch 
 dropped down from the beam above it, holding it fast 
 against further ingress or egress. And Dominic 
 Seager did not know that he was already a prisoner. 
 
 There was nothing at all alarming about the scene 
 inside. A shabby office interior, much divided by dirty 
 partitions, dimly lighted by two dull gas-jets and a 
 dusty window, was all of D. Arendsen's establishment 
 that was visible until a small shutter in one of the near 
 divisions slipped up and an ink-besmudged face peered 
 blinkingly out at him. 
 
 He bent toward that, and made known his wishes in 
 an abrupt and masterful tone. 
 
 "Tell Arendsen I must see him at once, about a mat- 
 ter of urgent importance," he ordered, and raised him- 
 self as though that were sufficient. But the owlish eyes 
 scrutinizing him from the loophole were not with- 
 drawn. 
 
 "Mister Arendsen's out of town," responded the 
 youth to whom they belonged, laying emphasis on the 
 prefix of courtesy. 
 
 "Yeh c'n see Mister Braus or th' Manager or " 
 
 "7 know, / know," the visitor protested impatiently. 
 "You take my message up to the whole bunch, see? 
 Tell him I want to see him about the consignment of 
 coffin-nails which went wrong on the way to St. 
 Thomas two years ago. And bring me an answer 
 quick, d'ye hear!" 
 
 "I'll tell Mister Braus that," the sentry promised, 
 and the shutter dropped ere he shuffled away, leaving 
 Dominic Seager a prey to emotions so mixed that he
 
 90 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 did not observe the single eye which was staring at 
 him in pronounced astonishment from another small 
 peephole opposite. 
 
 He heard the boy walk upstairs, and, presently, 
 down again. He was suddenly smitten with a wild 
 impulse to make a bolt from the place, but, ere he could 
 find out that flight was not feasible, saw the boy beck- 
 oning him toward a low door in the distance, and 
 thither he went. He followed his guide up an obscure 
 staircase, along a passage, and into a room at the end 
 of which a man sat writing. The boy at once re- 
 turned to his post of observation below, and released 
 the safety-catch on the street door. Dusk had come 
 down outside. The fly was fast in the spider's web up- 
 stairs. 
 
 Meantime the apprehensive adventurer whom he had 
 thus introduced had seated himself cavalierly in front 
 of the desk occupied by the personage who was at one 
 and the same time D. Arendsen, Inc., Mr. Braus, the 
 manager, and several other people: a very truculent- 
 looking man, of swarthy complexion, possessed of a 
 bushy black beard and moustache, a thick mop of lus- 
 treless hair. He seemed to be inordinately busy just 
 then, since he did not even look up to see whom it was 
 that had called about a consignment of coffin-nails two 
 years old. Dominic Seager had time to glance around 
 the room. 
 
 It was a small, square chamber, unkempt and evil- 
 smelling, scantily furnished with a littered flat-top 
 desk, a safe, a few chairs. The floor was thickly 
 carpeted. On the opaque panes of the window which 
 gave on a well outside lay the shadows of heavy bars. 
 The silence was almost oppressive.
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 91 
 
 Mr. Arendsen at length raised his eyes, and so sud- 
 denly that Seager was startled. But nevertheless he 
 met them with a successful enough assumption of cool- 
 ness. 
 
 "So!" hissed Mr. Arendsen, with slowly rising inflec- 
 tion, and in the monosyllable there was more purpose- 
 ful menace than might have been expressed in many 
 words. 
 
 "Now don't get hot," Seager advised, controlling his 
 own premonitions of coming trouble and speaking 
 steadily now that he was face to face with its probable 
 source. 
 
 "I've come to settle about that shipment, and I want 
 you to hear me out in a rational spirit." 
 
 Mr. Arendsen did not appear to have heard him in 
 any spirit at all. He reached for the telephone stand- 
 ing in front of him, with its mouthpiece close to his 
 lips. 
 
 "Wulf," said he, "run round to the corner of Hud- 
 son, and fetch in a cop. Fetch him straight up here, 
 and be quick about it." 
 
 Then he leaned back, elbows upon the arms of his 
 chair, hands clasped, and listened, as if for footsteps, 
 his head on one side. 
 
 "I'll settle with compound interest," Seager con- 
 tinued as though he had not spoken, and watching him 
 closely. "Figure it all out and let me know the amount. 
 I'm on the square, you see, although I'll admit that ap- 
 pearances have been against me." 
 
 Mr. Arendsen eyed him curiously, but made no an- 
 swer. 
 
 "Get busy," commanded the other, his courage ris- 
 ing to grapple with the occasion. It was in anticipation
 
 92 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 only that he had feared the man before him. He was 
 quite cool and quick-witted now, ready to play to his 
 opponent's lead. 
 
 "Get busy. You heard what I said. Do you want 
 me to withdraw my offer and go?" 
 
 "You'll go, all right," Arendsen retorted gratingly. 
 "Oh, yes, you'll go just as soon's the policeman 
 comes upstairs. You'll go where you ought to have 
 gone long ago, and you'll stay there." 
 
 "Then you don't want your money?" Seager asked 
 easily. 
 
 "If you have the money, I'll get it. /'// get it, don't 
 fear for that. And you'll get what's coming to you. 
 Oh, yes, you'll get that too." 
 
 "Don't fool yourself, Arendsen. If you put me away, 
 you'll get nothing. Take my word for that, and in 
 time. It'll cost you a lot to put spite on me, and I 
 can tell stories too." 
 
 He was beginning to fear that he had, after all, 
 walked into a fatal trap, but showed no sign of that out- 
 wardly. 
 
 "You know nothing that will do me the least harm 
 now," his enemy replied imperturbably. "All it will 
 cost me to wipe out old scores I'll stand for it's lost 
 money anyhow. You've come here with another cock 
 and bull story, and wanting more money. More 
 money, my God ! I know you too well, to think any 
 other errand would tempt you to cross my threshold. 
 It will cost no less to lock you up than to listen." 
 
 Seager was disconcerted by the intuition with which 
 his former friend had hit the mark, and showed that by 
 his next move. 
 
 "It's a sure thing this time," he said, "a cold-drawn
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 93 
 
 cinch. I have full proof with me," he fumbled in a 
 pocket and produced a bulky package which he held up 
 before the other, "all signed and sealed, all safe and 
 certain. You're not going to be such a fool " 
 
 "I have been a fool once," asserted Arendsen, with 
 dreary fixity of purpose. 
 
 "And once is far too often," he added viciously. 
 "You're clever, far too clever to be outside of Sing- 
 Sing." 
 
 Seager saw that the man meant what he said, and 
 was about to rise, with some faint hope that he might 
 yet make his escape, when he heard hasty footseps on 
 the stairway. He thrust the papers back into his 
 pocket, and, when his hand came forth again it held a 
 pistol. He dropped his wrist, so that it lay levelly in 
 line with Arendsen's low forehead. 
 
 "If I go to Sing-Sing," he said in a tense voice, head 
 forward, one unwinking eye behind the sights, with a 
 murderous gleam in it, "I'll go for a good reason, 
 damn you ! If you value your life, pick up that tele- 
 phone and send the cop away. I'm talking straight, I 
 tell you. Don't drive me too far. Pick the 'phone up 
 with one hand and hold the other over your head." 
 
 Arendsen's dull eyes had dilated slightly, and his 
 teeth showed, snarling, through his beard, but other- 
 wise he had not moved. Now he slowly unclasped his 
 hands, disposed of them as ordered, and once more 
 spoke into the mouthpiece. 
 
 "Wulf!" he said quietly. "Wulf! Oh, yes. Is that 
 you, Oscar? Run upstairs and tell Wulf to give the 
 cop a half a dollar and send him away." 
 
 The steps outside had almost reached the door, and
 
 94 
 
 Seager was in agony. Arendsen, watching him, could 
 not repress a sardonic grin. 
 
 "It's locked," the latter whispered. "Don't fire." 
 
 "I will, so help me God, if it isn't," Seager replied. 
 
 Someone knocked. He laid a finger on his lips in 
 signal that the other should keep silence, and thus they 
 waited. The handle turned, and there was almost pres- 
 sure on the trigger to slip its spring. Arendsen's life 
 hung on a slender thread until there came a renewed 
 clatter on the stairway, the footsteps retreated in that 
 direction, and they could hear the policeman grumbling 
 peevishly over his bootless errand. 
 
 The two men in the small square room drew deep 
 breaths of relief. That minute had been pregnant with 
 grave possibilities for both, but they recovered from 
 its influence with an ease which proved that they were 
 well used to facing chances of that sort. 
 
 "Draw your chair back, clear of the desk," Seager 
 commanded briskly, "and don't get grabbing for any 
 gun. I have the drop on you, and I'll keep it until 
 we've adjusted this unpleasantness although I wish 
 you hadn't forced me to employ harsh measures." 
 
 "You're bold/ commented Arendsen as he complied. 
 
 "Oh, yes, you're bold. If you were also honest to 
 your friends I could have done good things with you 
 and for you. I can make use of bold men in my busi- 
 ness but only if they're also honest." 
 
 "We'll quit that line of talk now," said Seager sourly. 
 While he was master of the situation he would be 
 treated with respect. He knew, of course, that all he 
 had gained was a respite, but felt quite confident that 
 he could turn that into a free pardon. 
 
 "We'll quit that line of talk and get on to business.
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 95 
 
 If you hadn't wasted so much time we might be half 
 way through with it by now. I've got a proposition to 
 put before you which beats the gun-running business 
 by more blocks than there are in Manhattan. You've 
 got to hear it whether you want to or not, and you may 
 just as well listen willingly. I wouldn't have come here 
 at all if I hadn't been certain sure that it's sound." 
 
 "I'll listen," assented his victim, "but tell me first 
 What did you do with the money they paid you for 
 those cartridges you took to St. Thomas for me ?" 
 
 "I lost it on the way back, in New Orleans," Seager 
 answered rather shamefacedly. 
 
 "At cards?" 
 
 "Cards and dice and the rest. The cursedest run 
 of luck !" 
 
 "Eight thousand dollars of my good money! And 
 two years ago. I could have turned it into eighty by 
 now. You must pay me those eighty thousand dollars 
 you owe me." 
 
 "All right, all right. That's a mere trifle, I tell you, 
 to what we're going to make out of this. I'm on the 
 square with you, Arendsen, if you'd only listen to me. 
 You lose a lot through being impatient." 
 
 "I'm not impatient," asserted Arendsen. "I'm really 
 a very patient man. Go on. I'm listening."
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 THE STORY OF THE SECOND DISCARD 
 
 "After I left your employment," said Saeger, and, 
 although Arendsen scowled at this method of describ- 
 ing his defalcation and flight, the renegade adventurer 
 was not abashed, "I went south as far as the River 
 Plate, to see whether there might be anything doing in 
 my line there. But, what with peace conferences and 
 Pan-American meetings, everything was dull as ditch- 
 water. So I took a Lamport and Holt boat over to 
 Cape Town, and had a look in at the little war Germany 
 was carrying on in Namaqualand. But the niggers 
 there wanted me to take cattle and such truck for my 
 good guns, and that was too dangerous. I sold a few 
 repeating persuaders I had picked up here and there 
 to the Boers there's quite a good retail trade going 
 on again, right under the Britishers' noses and drifted 
 north by degrees as far as the French Congo. 
 
 "Business was brisker there, but by bad luck the 
 Froggies got wind of me while I was selling off a con- 
 signment of Long Danes I had bought wholesale from 
 a caravan further north. They have three forts on the 
 border and are death on 'hardware dealers.' And just 
 when I had the goods humming, down they dropped 
 on me in a bunch. I got away by the skin of my teeth, 
 and with no more than I could carry about me, which 
 was chiefly food. 
 
 96
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 97; 
 
 "They got all my guns of course, and I thought that 
 would surely satisfy them, but they came chasing gaily 
 along in my wake, and I slipped into German territory v 
 never doubting that they would stay on their own side 
 of the fence, for William the Second doesn't favor 
 armed trespassers, in his yard. 
 
 "But not a bit of it. They trailed clear across the 
 Cameroons after me, and my nigger spies brought me 
 word that they meant to bag me even if they had to 
 infringe on British possessions as well. 
 
 "I've been hard pushed in my time, but those fellows 
 broke all records as hustlers. Whichever way I turned 
 they headed me off, and I was so closely hunted that 
 even my guides gave up, and abandoned me. I had 
 staked my very last chip, I was ready and willing to 
 cash in my checks before the luck turned. 
 
 "You don't know Darkest Africa, Arendsen, but I 
 do, and I tell you I felt mighty mean when I found my- 
 self stranded there, in a mangrove swamp on the edge 
 of an impassable river, with the bloodhounds hard at 
 my heels. I won't say I didn't feel sorry then that I 
 had left your employment. But, anyway, there I was, 
 at the end of my tether, with no prospects but a drum- 
 head court-martial, a firing-party, and a shallow trench 
 in the mud where the land-crabs burrow." 
 
 He shrugged his shoulders in creeping distaste of 
 the picture he had recalled to memory. 
 
 "I had calculated that I had about an hour more to 
 live, and was filling in the time with a few reflections 
 to fit the occasion, when I saw a fellow come calmly 
 sailing down-river out of the heat-haze in a canoe. 
 Think of what that meant to me then, Arendsen ! 
 
 "He seemed to be pretty jack-easy in his own mind.
 
 98 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 He didn't hurry at all when I hailed him, although the 
 sound of a voice might have meant all sorts of horrors 
 ahead of him. He simply sat still, and came oozing 
 along with the current. 
 
 "When he was nearly abreast of me I saw from his 
 dress that he was a white man, and hailed him again, 
 but he took no notice. It gave me a sickish feeling to 
 think that he might pass by on the other side, like the 
 Levite of scripture, when all I wanted of him was a lift 
 across, which meant everything in the world to me 
 at that moment. 
 
 "I felt pretty desperate then, I tell you, or I wouldn't 
 have done what I did. The back-creeks of the Benue 
 aren't like swimming baths. But I dived into the mov- 
 ing mud and struck out at top speed after that deaf 
 man, crying on him for God's sake to wait for me. He 
 didn't because he was also dead. 
 
 "I saw that before I clambered on board, but it made 
 no difference to me just then except that it maybe 
 saved my having to kill him myself. I picked up the 
 paddle and made a bee-line for the far bank without 
 paying any attention to him. I was in such a mortal 
 sweat that it didn't strike me to tumble him overboard 
 right away, and I was a good deal more than thankful 
 for that in a minute. 
 
 "I was doing some pretty quick thinking on my own 
 account all the time, and, sitting behind him, with my 
 eyes on the back of his head, which was not so dis- 
 comforting to me as the front I had an idea, an in- 
 spiration. I turned the canoe sharp round, drove back 
 to the place I had started from, and dumped him ashore 
 there. I reckoned that I had still half an hour to the 
 good, and what d'ye think I did?"
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 99 
 
 Arendsen adopted a bored expression, and shook his 
 head. 
 
 "I dropped stone dead there, Arendsen. I became 
 a corpse. I said the long goodbye to poor old Dominic 
 Saeger, and in a damned hurry. That was the idea 
 that took me back to the danger zone. It was the only 
 way to prevent the Frenchmen from following me to a 
 finish. 
 
 "It had to be a quick change, of course, and I hadn't 
 leisure to sort out my few belongings, so I stowed them 
 about the body wholesale as soon as I'd emptied its 
 pockets. I left it completely equipped for identifica- 
 tion, and as for appearance it had been so messed about 
 by the niggers that it might have passed for anyone in 
 the wide world. 
 
 "Then I tramped about in the mud a bit, first in my 
 own boots and then with bare feet, snapped twigs and 
 branches, and left all the marks of a life-and-death 
 struggle. Then I drove the canoe at the bank in a 
 dozen places to show that a fleet of savages had lately 
 landed there and gone on again after doing the white 
 man up, and as I was drawing back from the last 
 bump, I heard a voice in the thicket behind me. My 
 God ! that gave me a bad start, Arendsen. I dug out 
 for the nearest cover, and clung to a leafy bough 
 scarcely daring to breathe. 
 
 "I had over-estimated my time allowance, and it was 
 too late then to break for the open. In half a minute 
 the first of the Frenchmen's black-boys were yelping 
 about the body, and their yap brought up the rest of 
 the expedition at a dog-trot a dozen whites and may- 
 be twenty natives all told. 
 
 "There was a great palaver over their find, and they
 
 ioo A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 seemed disappointed to think that they hadn't been 
 there in time to shoot me themselves. They never 
 doubted that it was me, for of course they searched the 
 body and held a sort of an inquest, and the first thing 
 they came across was my papers. That -clinched it. It 
 made them mad to see from these what a big trade I 
 had been driving in guns and cartridges, and that was 
 quite natural, since it was precisely what they were 
 slaving there to prevent. However, they were well 
 enough pleased to think they had heard the last of me, 
 and so had their niggers dig a neat hole in the mud 
 and tuck poor old Dominic tidily into it. I came near 
 to having blind staggers while I looked on and listened 
 to the damned crabs all crunching their claws. For the 
 funeral was within a few yards of me, and it wasn't nice 
 to have to attend a dress rehearsal of what might hap- 
 pen to me yet at any moment. 
 
 "But in the end the Frenchmen turned tail and made 
 off, in a desperate hurry to get back beyond the Ger- 
 man border. And I was saved. I was saved ! 
 
 "D'ye know that I felt pretty good then, Arendsen ? 
 Yes, sir, I felt pretty good! I've often faced a close 
 call, but that one was just a trifle too near the edge. 
 
 "Well, after I'd quieted down again, I began to won- 
 der who I was now, and what I'd better do next. This 
 is where you begin to come in, Arendsen, and you'll see 
 that I haven't been telling you silly stories for nothing, 
 as you seem to think. I've brought you up to the mo- 
 ment when I first opened the papers I had inherited 
 from the dead man. There was a heap of them in the 
 canoe, besides what I'd found in his pockets. 
 
 "That fellow must have been born unlucky. He held 
 a royal flush of the finest at the identical instant when
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 he was put out of action. It's mine now, and here are 
 the cards, diamonds all and ace high, with which 
 you and I are going to sweep the board clean." 
 
 He was speaking excitedly now, as he recalled the 
 prospect which had been tempting enough to bring 
 him back within reach of Black Dirck, and that indi- 
 vidual also would seem to have been infected by his 
 obvious faith in his errand. At any rate he did not 
 take any advantage of the fact that Seager had once 
 more pocketed his revolver and produced in its place 
 the package of papers. 
 
 "Draw in," said the latter, "and go through them 
 one by one. They're all in order from first to last. 
 Begin with that one, and don't say a word till you've 
 got to the end. Then tell me whether we haven't got 
 the game won." 
 
 The black-bearded man did as he directed, studying 
 document after document until he had mastered all the 
 details of his fellow-scoundrel's scheme. And he could 
 not but admit to himself that it was a very feasible one, 
 so strong, in its sheer simplicity, that failure seemed 
 almost impossible. 
 
 Seager filled the dead man's shoes to perfection as 
 far as outward appearance went, might even have been 
 the original of that faded photograph, many years old, 
 which was included in the collection. Miles Quaintance, 
 the uncle who had been minded to make his nephew a 
 multi-millionaire on such curious terms, was safely 
 buried, and, in any case, had never set eyes on him. 
 Neither had the girl who now remained chief factor in 
 the situation, nor yet the San Francisco lawyers with 
 whom Seager had already been in correspondence, and 
 who, after due inquiry into his supposed history and
 
 102 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 antecedents, had accepted his plausibly proven state- 
 ment that he was Stephen Quaintance. They had 
 therefore sent him whatever information he asked, and 
 only balked at his application for funds to enable him 
 to comply with Miles Quaintance's stipulation. That 
 did not lie within their province, they said, and Mr. 
 Stephen Quaintance must make his own way to the ad- 
 dress in Paris with which they had supplied him, and 
 where the girl might be found. While, failing receipt 
 of proof that the marriage required had been duly sol- 
 emnized within the twelvemonth which was almost up, 
 it would be their bounden duty to distribute the estate 
 among such charities as had been designated by the 
 testator. 
 
 Dirck Arendsen's brain was busy as he sat scanning 
 sheet after sheet, seeking for some weak point on which 
 to pounce, but without finding any. The evidence was 
 complete and conclusive enough to satisfy any court. 
 Even had the real Stephen Quaintance been living, it 
 would have been very hard for him to disprove it. 
 There was a covetous gleam in Dirck Arendsen's eyes 
 as he laid the last of them down on the desk. 
 
 "Well ?" he asked listlessly. "Where do I come in, 
 Mr. Quaintance?" 
 
 "Tell me how it strikes you," requested Seager, his 
 face aglow. 
 
 "There seems to be a fair start in it for a man with 
 the brains and money to carry it through ! but a good 
 deal depends on the girl, of course." 
 
 "You don't suppose, do you, that any girl's going to 
 turn down the chance of splitting ten millions with me ? 
 Hang it all, Arendsen, I'm surely not so old and ugly as 
 that!"
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 103 
 
 His complacent smirk showed how little he feared 
 such contingency. 
 
 "I shouldn't think so," Arendsen had to admit, how- 
 ever grudgingly. It did not suit his own purpose to 
 see things in a too roseate light but he could not deny 
 that no girl within the range of his own imagination 
 but would put up with the man for the sake of the 
 money. 
 
 "Have you got his diaries with you?" he demanded. 
 
 "Nope," said Seager. "They're at the hotel, but 
 I've memorized the most of their contents. I can ac- 
 count fully for the last eight or nine years of Stephen 
 Quaintance's life, and beyond that I know enough to 
 make good in any direction. The whole thing's as 
 plain as a pikestaff, Dirck, and you can see that just 
 as well as I can. We're on to a copper-bottomed cinch, 
 as I told you, and there isn't a leak in it anywhere. 
 
 "I'm Stephen Quaintance, and Dominic Seager's 
 done with. There isn't a living soul in the U. S. A. 
 who can contradict me, and all that remains to be done 
 before we can scoop in the pool is to tackle the girl. 
 I'm the fellow for that." 
 
 "You'd look foolish if she didn't fancy you," Arend- 
 sen put in maliciously and to gain time. He was craft- 
 ily considering all the pros and cons, estimating ex- 
 penses and profits, discounting all possible risks. He 
 could almost foresee the moment when he might retire 
 from the dangerous trade he had followed so long, and 
 of late with indifferent results. It was becoming in- 
 
 o 
 
 creasingly difficult to find safe carriage for ammunition 
 and guns shipped on false bills of lading, and this 
 looked like a direct interposition of providence on his 
 behalf. By taking it as such he might well retire with
 
 104 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 the wherewithal to gratify his most extravagant tastes, 
 and he had a varied assortment of these for one who 
 had formerly been a ship's captain. 
 
 "What difference would it make?" Seager answered 
 angrily. "You know what women are, Arendsen. I'll 
 find means to have the knot safely tied well within the 
 time limit and whether I happen to hit her fancy or not. 
 You may trust me to waste no time in my wooing, and 
 take it is as gospel that no woman living is going to 
 stand between me and five millions. She may make 
 any conditions she pleases, so long as she marries me. 
 I don't care if I never see her face again after the wed- 
 ding. I'll disappear and send her a death certificate, so 
 that she'll be free to marry again if she wants to. All 
 she has to do is to go to the registrar's with me, and 
 pocket her share of the money. I'll make it so easy 
 for her that she'll maybe want to keep me but we'll 
 have to see about that afterwards. The great point at 
 present is to get married without a moment's delay." 
 
 "Then why don't you start for Paris at once?" inter- 
 rupted Arendsen, and the ironical question brought his 
 visitor to the climax of their interview. 
 
 "How can I?" he answered irritably, "until you come 
 in with the capital. Cut all bluff out, Arendsen. Let's 
 talk sense. I've put the proposition squarely before 
 you. It's up to you to let me have a couple of thou- 
 sand dollars. Then I'll owe you ten thousand alto- 
 gether, and I'll pay you cent per cent. It'll be the 
 easiest hundred thousand you ever touched, and 
 otherwise you'll get nothing." 
 
 Arendsen was still reflecting rapidly. He had a far 
 better idea of the value of money than Seager. He 
 also knew that there was no time to be lost, and did
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 105 
 
 not spend any on futile finessing. The other had per- 
 force come to him as a lamb to the slaughter, and it 
 was a pleasure to bleed him. 
 
 "I'll put up one thousand dollars," he said at length, 
 "and not a cent more. It's a sheer speculation, and 
 I'm a fool to part with my money so easily, but I'll 
 risk that much on Stephen Quaintance's note for two 
 millions five hundred thousand, and Dominic Seager's 
 for the eighty thousand you owe me already, with in- 
 terest at ten per cent. 
 
 "Now, listen to me," he went on as Seager glared 
 at him with a ludicrous mixture of rage and amaze- 
 ment. "If you kick, I'll squeal. If you make any 
 bones about it, I'll lock you up. If you do me dirt in 
 the very smallest particular," he leaned forward and 
 
 shook a warning finger in his confederate's face, 
 "I'll " 
 
 He said no more, but sat back, satisfied. His man 
 was utterly in his power now, and he saw that Dominic 
 Seager had come to an understanding of his position. 
 
 "All right, then," assented that worthy in a husky 
 voice and after an interval spent in staring open- 
 mouthed at his oppressor. 
 
 "I've told you the fix I'm in, and you're free to 
 squeeze me. But it isn't honest. It isn't honest, 
 Arendsen." 
 
 "Tush !" the other retorted, but more pacifically. 
 "You're a fool, my friend, when it comes to figures. If 
 I were in your place I'd see that the girl paid her share 
 of whatever it cost me to raise working capital. Isn't 
 it almost as much for her benefit as yours?" 
 
 Seager's face cleared. 
 
 "Gad ! but you're a hard file," he exclaimed. "What
 
 106 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 you say's very true, all the same, and I'm not above 
 taking a tip from a friend. She'll have to split expenses 
 with me. 
 
 "And now, if you'll count the cash out, I'll give you 
 your notes I've been practicing Quaintance's signa- 
 ture so that it comes off the pen as readily as my own 
 and I'll skip across to Cherbourg by the first steamer. 
 Give me back my papers. The girl's address is in one 
 of the letters from these rascally 'Frisco lawyers. It's 
 a pretty good sign that they take me on trust, eh, 
 Arendsen?" 
 
 "Except in the matter of cash," Arendsen com- 
 mented drily. 
 
 "I suppose that if they had met your request for a 
 loan I might have waited long enough without seeing 
 you." 
 
 "I'd have sent you your eight thousand dollars, I 
 think," Seager answered indifferently, "if only to be 
 out of your debt. You're a dangerous devil, Arend- 
 sen. But for that I'd have been here before." 
 
 He signed a separate name to each of the documents 
 which his companion had been preparing, pocketed 
 without counting them the notes produced by the lat- 
 ter from the big safe, heard with an air of weariness a 
 final warning as to the horrible fate in store for him if 
 he should play his accomplice false, and, having bidden 
 that individual farewell with the curtest of nods, was 
 escorted downstairs by the inky-faced boy who had in- 
 troduced him. 
 
 "You'll cable me the moment the bond is regis- 
 tered," Arendsen called after him, "and write me by 
 every mail. If I fail to hear from you regularly I'll un- 
 derstand that there's something wrong, and be after
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 107 
 
 you like a shot. We're slack just now, and I can quite 
 easily spare the time for a run across." 
 
 "I'll send you the news, sure," Seager called back. 
 He had not failed to comprehend the threat underlying 
 the careless words. 
 
 "That fellow's the worst snob I know," he said 
 angrily to himself as he stepped out on to the sidewalk. 
 "He puts on as much dog with me as if I were afraid 
 of him. I'll teach him a lesson as soon as I can afford 
 to set up school. But in the meantime I'll dodge down 
 to Number 9 Broadway, and book my passage." 
 
 He turned into Chambers street and took the Ele- 
 vated, chuckling to think of the change in his circum- 
 stances since he had come shivering down in the sur- 
 face car, and, when next morning, Arendsen rang up 
 the steamship office to ask whether a berth had yet 
 been reserved for Stephen Quaintance, he was politely 
 informed that that gentleman had made all arrange- 
 ments, and was then on the point of sailing for Paris.
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 SWEET ARE THE USES OF ADVERTISEMENT 
 
 The spurious Stephen Quaintance thus successfully 
 launched on his nefarious enterprise, and the man 
 whose empty place in the world he meant to usurp firm 
 in his resolve to have nothing whatever to do with the 
 dead Miles Quaintance's project or the money it would 
 produce, time ticked away five full days of the few that 
 were left before the twelve months should be up and 
 the dead man's adopted daughter become entitled to 
 all those millions. 
 
 The real Stephen Quaintance felt safely assured that 
 the strange precautions he had taken for her welfare 
 would in due course result satisfactorily for her and 
 himself. He had paid a long price, at his own discre- 
 tion, for the right to live his own life, to follow out his 
 own ambitions. He had only one aim now, and it 
 engrossed him entirely, to the exclusion of all other in- 
 terests. 
 
 He had spent these days in an exhaustive but fruit- 
 less search of the Long Island suburbs, where it seemed 
 just possible that the girl whom he meant to marry 
 might have her home. The only faint clue he pos- 
 sessed was that afforded by the rat-faced Frenchman's 
 appearance at Rockaway Beach, very vaguely con- 
 firmed by what he had overheard from his own offen- 
 sive namesake at the Cornucopia Club. 
 
 1 08
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 109 
 
 The Night and Day Bank had notified him that the 
 funds which it had collected for him were now freely 
 at his disposal, and he had paid for the car in which 
 he roamed the countryside, with an especially keen eye 
 to the multitudinous runabouts he met on his many 
 excursions. Once, at O'Ferral's behest, he had taken 
 Cornoyer with him, but that volatile youth's seemingly 
 irrepressible spirits and equally inexhaustible talent for 
 getting into mischief, did not induce him to repeat the 
 experiment. Until he should have achieved success in 
 his quest he would not be in any mood for making 
 merry. And while he was in such a state of mind it 
 suited him best to be quite alone. 
 
 There were now and then moments when the mag- 
 nitude of the task he had undertaken depressed him, 
 but, none the less, he was fixed in his purpose to per- 
 severe. However it had come about, he was alto- 
 gether obsessed by the memory of a girl's face. And 
 even while he, on occasion, chafed against its sudden, 
 mysterious potency of influence over his actions, while 
 he was still sane enough to realize that he might never 
 see it again, he was determined that, if it should end 
 so, he should not have to blame himself for any failure 
 or remissness. 
 
 On the evening of the fifth day's futile pilgrimage 
 he passed, preoccupied, down Broadway, from the 
 garage at which he kept his car to the Fifth Avenue 
 Hotel where he had made his permanent headquarters, 
 trying in vain to evolve some more likely scheme of 
 search. The possibility of employing a detective 
 agency had, of course, occurred to him, but he had dis- 
 missed it at once and for good, so repugnant was it all 
 to his ideas. There seemed to be nothing for it but to
 
 no A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 cover every inch of Manhattan, and then try elsewhere 
 if that produced no result. He must be thorough in 
 all his methods. 
 
 A bell-boy caught sight of him as he entered the 
 vestibule of the hotel, and, knowing him always liberal 
 in his acknowledgment of such service, brought him 
 word that there was a telephone message awaiting him, 
 which turned out to be from O'Ferral, and merely said, 
 
 "See to-night's Telegram, page nine, second column, 
 ad. twenty-five." 
 
 He hurried back to the door and bought a Telegram 
 from the newsboy there, spread it out on a desk with- 
 in, and, running his finger rapidly down the column 
 prescribed, whose caption was "Automobiles, &c./ f 
 found advertisement twenty-five as follows: 
 
 "For Sale, Cadillac, Model Q., '06, two-seated, 
 with hood. In perfect running order. $450. Ap- 
 ply 3996, Telegram." 
 
 With these words firmly fixed in his memory he 
 made for the 'phone at speed and called up O'Ferral. 
 But the correspondent was not at home, and neither 
 was he to be heard of at the editorial offices of the 
 paper on whose staff he served. Quaintance therefore 
 sat down to compose a reply to the advertisement. It 
 was difficult to convey neither too much nor too little, 
 with the grave risk hanging over his head that some 
 other purchaser might anticipate him, that the adver- 
 tiser might even ignore his communication. But he 
 finally solved the problem of what to say, what to leave 
 unsaid, had a special messenger take the resultant epis- 
 tle by hand to its destination rather than trust the
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE in 
 
 mails, and went off much elated to dine with Cornoyer 
 at Rector's, whom he sui prised by his hitherto unsus- 
 pected fund of good fellowship. 
 
 Later in the evening he again called up O'Ferral's 
 rooms, and this time it was the correspondent himself 
 who answered the 'phone. 
 
 "H'lo, Steve," said he. "Get my message?" 
 
 "I did. I've sent in an answer already. How did 
 you happen across the ad.?" 
 
 O'Ferral laughed. 
 
 "Faculty of observation again, I suppose," came the 
 cheery reply. "Hope you'll have luck with it, Steve. 
 I'm only sorry I can't do better than that to help you. 
 I'm off to-morrow." 
 
 "The devil you are!" A long pause. "When d'you 
 think you'll be back?" 
 
 "No idea at all. Wish I had! And, say, Steve. 
 Don't tell anyone that I'm out of town. No, not even 
 Cornoyer. Keep an eye on him for me. He's not a 
 bad sort when you know him. Must ring off now. 
 Good-bye, Steve." 
 
 "Good-bye, old chap, and the best of luck. Let me 
 know here when you return." 
 
 "Right." 
 
 Quaintance hung up the receiver sorrowfully. He 
 would be still more lonely without O'Ferral, and of 
 late the feeling of loneliness had grown upon him. He 
 ,was no longer quietly content with the company of an 
 unknown multitude. His views in that respect had un- 
 dergone a notable change since the afternoon on which 
 he had first walked up Fifth Avenue on his return from 
 exile. For two more long days he scoured the country 
 without avail, and waited, with all the patience which
 
 ii2 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 he could muster, an answer to his modest request that 
 the owner of the Cadillac advertised for sale would not 
 on any account part with it before affording him an op- 
 portunity of inspection. 
 
 Returning from a very dusty pilgrimage on the sec- 
 ond of these, fortune favored him with a little encour- 
 agement, trifling enough but none the less to be ac- 
 cepted thankfully, in the shape of a business-like note 
 to say that F. Smith would be glad to show him the 
 Cadillac car any afternoon he might care to call. The 
 address given was near Stormport, Long Island, and 
 there were full directions for reaching it. 
 
 He opened his map and picked out Stormport among 
 the tiny villages on the north shore of Peconic Bay. 
 Then he looked at the letter again and frowned as he 
 studied the crabbed hand-writing, which might have 
 been either man's or woman's, on the sheet of cheap 
 note-paper. On the whole, he was much inclined to 
 doubt whether the car would be what he wanted. But, 
 at the same time, he meant to see both it and F. Smith. 
 He would not let any chance, however remote, escape 
 him. 
 
 He set forth for Stormport early next morning, and 
 made such speed on his journey that he came near to 
 involving himself with the lawful authorities on that 
 score before he had come to the more open roads 
 where there were no plain-clothes policemen. 
 
 He had a perfect day for his expedition. A cool sea- 
 breeze was sweeping across the Island and kept the 
 dust down. He got to Riverhead, clean and comfort- 
 able, in good time for lunch and conscious of a keen 
 appetite. When he went on again, at an easy pace and 
 with a fragrant cigar to temper the tang of the salt
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 113 
 
 air which grew ever stronger as he caught more fre- 
 quent glimpses of the grey water, he was at peace with 
 the world about him, even optimistic as to his pros- 
 pects therein. It was in such circumstances, under the 
 clean, clear sky, among green, open fields set with 
 deep, dusky woods and thickets all scented of the sea, 
 that he would fain have met the lady of his dreams. 
 
 He had just time to finish his cigar ere, having 
 passed through sleepy Stormport and wheeled round 
 into a country road, he came to the stretch of planta- 
 tion described in the letter, crossed a narrow creek by 
 a rickety bridge, and so reached an almost untrodden 
 track leading through the trees toward the shore. Into 
 that he turned at haphazard, and creeping cautiously 
 forward, became aware of a tiny octagonal bungalow 
 all but concealed from sight by the thick foliage, a 
 small barn set somewhat apart from it at one side of 
 the path he was following. He sounded his horn to 
 herald his coming and drew up before a low porch at 
 which the path stopped. 
 
 It was very still and restful there in the shadow, with 
 nothing to break its cloistral quiet but the music of 
 wild birds, the crooning of the soft tide on an un- 
 seen beach. Amid such setting, he thought, the girl 
 would have seemed at home. But she did not come 
 forth as he had almost prayed that she would, and he 
 was not aware of the scrutiny to which he was being 
 subjected during his day-dream. When he at length 
 got out and knocked, the door was reluctantly opened 
 to him by a hard-featured, elderly woman who might 
 have been either mistress or maid in that modest es- 
 tablishment, who bore no faintest resemblance to her 
 he had half hoped to see.
 
 H4 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 She was dressed in black, with a light shawl 
 about her shoulders, a cap on her closely confined grey 
 hair. She stood there with folded arms, lips com- 
 pressed, sharp eyes fixed interrogatively on the 
 stranger, her whole attitude telling plainly enough her 
 desire to be informed as to his business and settle that 
 in the shortest possible time. 
 
 "My name is Qu Newman," said he, rather 
 
 lamely and gulping his disappointment down. "I had 
 a note from F. Smith about a small car that's for sale 
 here." 
 
 "Come this way, please," the woman requested, 
 speaking with a strong foreign accent and yet as one 
 who had full command of the English tongue. She 
 closed the door carefully, and, stepping down from the 
 porch, led him back toward the barn he had passed. He 
 followed respectfully, but with small expectation of 
 gaining any great solace from her society. She 
 seemed to be bent on exhibiting an extreme detach- 
 ment from any personal interest in him. 
 
 She drew a key from the business-like chatelaine at 
 her belt, unlocked the barn-door and slid that aside 
 with an ease which bespoke much more strength of arm 
 than he would have given her credit for, passed within 
 and produced the identical runabout which Quaintance 
 had seen at Martin's. He recognized it at once and 
 a more minute survey confirmed his first instantaneous 
 impression. It fitted in every respect the description 
 O'Ferral had supplied him with, and, if anything had 
 been wanting in way of evidence, there was a small grey 
 gauntlet peeping forth from a fold of the hood. He 
 had great difficulty in repressing the exclamation of 
 joy which had almost escaped his lips.
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 115 
 
 "Ahem !" said he, so noisily that the woman looked 
 her astonishment. 
 
 "Does it who are you Mrs. Smith?" he asked in 
 confusion, and not knowing very well what to say next. 
 
 She nodded, and, folding her arms again, watched 
 unwinkingly while he walked round it. 
 
 "I surely I've seen this car somewhere before," he 
 remarked tentatively, rising from an inspection of the 
 rear tires, and regarding her from behind the hood. 
 
 "There are many of the same make," she replied 
 very shortly, and her lips snapped together again. 
 
 "I think it was this one," he maintained, and she let 
 his contention pass without either assent or contradic- 
 tion. He found her niggardliness of speech highly ag- 
 gravating. 
 
 A bright thought suddenly struck him. He made a 
 most workmanlike examination of every vital part. 
 
 "Is four-fifty the lowest you'll take?" he asked, for 
 the sake of appearance, and she relaxed her air of de- 
 tachment a little. 
 
 "It is worth more," she said, with the first sign of 
 feeling she had yet shown, a faint expression of anxiety 
 in her eyes. "It is worth more. I would not be willing 
 to take less, and I ask so little because I desire to sell 
 it at once." 
 
 "All right, then," he answered. "I'll take it. If you 
 will allow me to write you a cheque and let me have 
 your receipt we can call the deal square." 
 
 But the suggestion did not seem to meet with her 
 approval either. She glanced toward the closed door 
 under the porch, and again at him. 
 
 "If you will let me have the cheque when you come
 
 n6 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 or send for the car, that will be sufficient," she differed. 
 "Then I will give a receipt also." 
 
 Quaintance smiled inwardly. He had foreseen as 
 much. 
 
 "I mean to take it away with me now, if I may," he 
 said pleasantly. "My car will tow it with ease, and " 
 
 She made up her mind to accept the inevitable, al- 
 though with ill enough grace. 
 
 "There's only the kitchen," she said doubtfully, but 
 turned toward it without further speech. 
 
 He followed her dumbly, well pleased, through the 
 porch into a small square room, which, except for the 
 cook-stove, might have served for parlor, so comfort- 
 ably was it furnished, so dainty were all its appoint- 
 ments. She crossed it, in haste to close the door which 
 led through to a room adjoining, but not before he had 
 caught a quick glimpse of its interior also. And what 
 he saw there caused him to draw a deep breath of con- 
 tentment. 
 
 It was a sunny, pleasant chamber, with a wide win- 
 dow looking out to sea and a low couch thereat, upon 
 which lay the self-same hat the girl had worn at Mar- 
 tin's. But she herself was nowhere visible. 
 
 The grey-haired woman set a chair beside the table, 
 laid pen and ink before him. He drew a well-filled 
 note-case from one pocket, and, opening that to get his 
 check-book out, found, as he had known he would, that 
 he might more conveniently pay cash for his new pur- 
 chase. The woman looked well pleased when he ex- 
 plained that to her, and sat down in his place, as soon 
 as he had counted out the necessary bills, to write him 
 a receipt. 
 
 When she had handed him that, it would have ap-
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 peared that he had no excuse for lingering, but he had 
 yet one more card to play. 
 
 "On second thoughts," he remarked as he moved 
 toward the door, "I'll ask you to keep the small car for 
 me till to-morrow, if you'll be so good." 
 
 It was a simple enough request, but seemed to per- 
 plex her afresh. 
 
 "Will you come for it yourself, or send?" she asked 
 quickly. 
 
 "I'll come." 
 
 "At what time ?" 
 
 "Whenever it is most convenient to you." 
 
 "At this hour then, and not later than to-morrow," 
 she agreed grudgingly. 
 
 "It is not that I would be disobliging," she added in 
 haste, "but - " 
 
 "You have placed me under an obligation," Quaint- 
 ance assured her. "I shall be punctual at this hour, 
 to-morrow." 
 
 He bowed, and, as he stepped down from the porch, 
 she closed the door from within. He could hear a bolt 
 shot behind him, and was glad that she had not waited 
 to watch him go. Half way down the track, and well 
 out of sight of the little embowered dwelling, he backed 
 his big motor carefully into the thicket between two 
 trees which allowed him space and no more for that pur- 
 pose, drew the green screen close again to conceal it, 
 and went on toward the road afoot. He could not in- 
 trude further meantime on the jealously guarded 
 privacy of the bungalow, but he knew no valid reason 
 why he should deny himself a glimpse of it from the 
 shore at a safely respectful distance. 
 
 Appeasing his conscience by means of such reasoning,
 
 u8 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 he turned along the road, to his left, and followed it 
 for a short quarter-mile, when he once more took to 
 the wood, turning left again toward the sea, threading 
 his way through the tangle of undergrowth in the thick 
 belt of trees till he came suddenly upon a narrow curve 
 of sand with the wide waters of the bay lying blue be- 
 yond it. And at the same instant the faint, far echo 
 of a most plaintive melody thrilled his attentive ears. 
 
 He stopped and hearkened, his pulses hammering. 
 The tender notes which swelled and ebbed on the un- 
 certain breeze came from no bird's throat. Some one 
 was singing, some one hidden from sight behind the 
 sandpit that formed one horn of the half-moon sweep 
 of shore on which he had emerged. The bungalow lay 
 unseen beyond the other. He stood between it and 
 the singer. 
 
 It had been his intention to saunter unconcernedly 
 back past that shrine, brave, if need were, its guar- 
 dian's resentment, but now he saw, very clearly and all 
 at once, that any such trespass would be unpardonable, 
 that it would be only mannerly to turn the other way. 
 He did so, strolling with an assumption of all the inno- 
 cence at his command toward the low ridge which shut 
 him in on that side. And, crossing it, absent-mindedly, 
 hands clasped behind him, head bent as if in deep medi- 
 tation, stopped suddenly, looked about him in well 
 simulated surprise.
 
 CHAPTER X 
 THE SEA-BIRD'S CRY THAT CAME FROM THE CREEK 
 
 The wide blue waters of the bay were flecked with 
 white-caps called up here and there by the uncertain 
 breeze which whipped across it from the hills of Shinne- 
 cock, asleep in the dim distance with their backs to the 
 Atlantic. The rising tide lapped lazily on a white 
 scimitar of sand. Behind the beach stood its long 
 screen of woodland, dense, many-tinted, shutting the 
 world out. And overhead, a sapphire sky held no least 
 cloud. 
 
 There were no sails in sight, nor was there any sign 
 of life along the shore save for the man who stood 
 there speechlessly, unnoticed, the girl whose velvet 
 voice was blending low and liquidly with the susurrus 
 of the undergrowth. It was a folk-song of the South 
 that she was singing, an old-time ode of the plantations 
 which brought back to her solitary auditor many and 
 poignant memories. Its crooning chorus thrilled 
 chords in his heart long mute, almost forgotten in life's 
 changes. His eyes grew misty, a fog gripped his 
 throat, so bitter-sweet was it to hear them once more 
 thus. 
 
 The singing ceased. He started, looking up in dire 
 confusion. He had been caught red-handed, eaves- 
 dropping, a crime for which there could be no excuse. 
 The girl had turned, was gazing at him in astonishment 
 
 119
 
 120 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 and yet from under level eyebrows. It might be that 
 he could still make apologies such as should serve to 
 stave off or at least appease her righteous indignation. 
 
 He looked her in the face, because her feet were 
 bare, and she was standing ankle-deep in the warm 
 water of a shallow creek which cut a broad swath 
 through the sand there. She had been stooping 
 slightly when she sang, searching for something in the 
 shoal, her back toward him. 
 
 But her sweet eyes still held him spell-bound for a 
 space, and, when he in the end found speech, he stam- 
 mered stupidly, his own face flushed. Had it been 
 feasible he would fain have turned back, and come to 
 her again after he had recovered his composure. But 
 to have done so then might have cost him his anxiously 
 sought opportunity. That he must seize and make the 
 most of. He clutched at courage, desperate, and 
 spoke. 
 
 "I I I beg your pardon," he said, bowing with 
 deepest deference. "I I didn't know that the beach 
 was impassable here. I I'm afraid I startled you?" 
 
 She had been scanning him closely while he stood 
 bare-headed before her in the mellow sunshine, had 
 known at once that he was the same man she had seen 
 in Martin's, and her recollections of him had been none 
 but grateful. This it was, perhaps, which influenced 
 her to answer him pleasantly rather than rebuff him 
 with a chill courtesy as she might otherwise have felt 
 impelled to do. 
 
 "The creek comes as a surprise the first time one 
 turns this corner," she said, and her lips parted slightly 
 in a swift, fugitive smile as she looked down to where, 
 in the ripple, two ivory feet were half imbedded among
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 121 
 
 the sand. Then she stepped ashore and a swirl of her 
 skirts sent them out of sight altogether. 
 
 "I dropped a bracelet coming across," she explained 
 in a matter of fact tone, and Quaintance was conscious 
 that fortune beyond his wildest hopes had befallen him. 
 He would find that never sufficiently to be commended 
 bangle for her if he should have to spend the rest of his 
 life there. He had already sat down, was untying his 
 shoes. 
 
 "There's a bridge not very far up," she advised him 
 gratuitously, but he was deaf to the hint. His way 
 was clear to him now and he had all his wits about him 
 again. 
 
 "I know," he replied. "I came across it an hour 
 ago. I was on my way to the bungalow on this side, 
 to look at a motor." 
 
 He considered a moment, wondering whether fie 
 dared. And he did. 
 
 "It's yours, isn't it?" he asked courageously, rising. 
 
 She nodded careless assent, but corrected herself in 
 words. 
 
 "Mrs. Smith's," she asserted indifferently. She was 
 waiting until he should go on his way, to resume her 
 search. 
 
 "Whereabouts did you drop the bracelet?" he ques- 
 tioned, but she shook her head. 
 
 "Oh, I can easily find it myself," she demurred. 
 "You mustn't trouble about it. I thought you were 
 merely going to cross the creek." 
 
 He turned and entered the water, leaving shoes and 
 socks behind him. His purpose was sufficiently evi- 
 dent. He had conveyed to her that protest would be 
 superfluous. She had no option but to acquiesce, and
 
 122 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 did so with a little moue, half petulant, half amused. 
 Which he did not see, since his back was toward her 
 now. 
 
 "I've no idea where it may be," she warned him con- 
 tradictorily. "I only noticed its loss when I sat down 
 to pull on when I returned to this side." 
 
 "Don't fret," he answered cheerfully. "I'll find it 
 for you." 
 
 She smiled again, half pleased, half displeased. He 
 was so big and strong so self-confident. A woman's 
 intuition had told her that she might trust him. She 
 prized the missing ornament for much more than its 
 intrinsic value. As soon as he should have found it 
 and she had already spent a full half-hour on such quest 
 she would thank him properly, and proceed. But to 
 do so she must first resume her discarded foot-gear. 
 
 She slipped to the back of a bush at the edge of the 
 thicket, and, hoping he had not caught sight of the 
 silken hose she had left hanging there, was back on the 
 beach before he looked round again, with two points 
 of polished tan peeping forth from under her skirt as 
 the wind caressed her. 
 
 "I'm too far down," he called to her, noticing the 
 light imprints of her small feet where she had reached 
 dry land on the other bank, and from there he retraced 
 his steps, slowly, searching on either hand. 
 
 "It may have sunk out of sight in the sand," he said 
 as he reached her side again, and paused to refresh him- 
 self with a swift glance at her mirthful eyes. These had 
 strange, heart-stirring lights in their irises now, sap- 
 phire-blue like the sky, turquoise of the sea, tender 
 tints as of wild wood-violets. 
 
 "I hope not," she answered demurely, and the danc-
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 123 
 
 ing lights died down in the shadow of the long lashes 
 which had encurtained them. 
 
 "It wouldn't matter at all if it had," he assured her 
 convincingly. "I'll dig it out though it's half-way 
 through to Ceylon." 
 
 She was smiling outright now. 
 
 "Are you always so successful?" she asked, and he 
 thought that something of challenge lurked behind the 
 straightforward question. 
 
 "Always," he replied with a whimsical gravity where- 
 at she laughed aloud. 
 
 "How pleasant that must be for you," she said 
 lightly. 
 
 "Success is certainly pleasanter than defeat," he ad- 
 mitted, and faced about, leaving her, a little abruptly, 
 having no further commonplace at his command, not 
 yet daring to give voice to any more personal speech. 
 
 She was so altogether adorable as she stood there 
 before him, straight and slender and fearless, the sea- 
 wind kissing her wild-rose cheeks, the sun playing hide 
 and seek with the lights and shadows among her 
 tresses, that he could not trust himself at the moment 
 to look her straight in the eyes again. And he would 
 no more look furtively at her. Wherefore he occupied 
 himself for a space with the ostensible object of their 
 joint interest. 
 
 But, turn up the sand as he might, the missing arm- 
 let was not forthcoming, and, having crossed and re- 
 crossed the creek half a dozen times, he sat down with 
 a great air of exhaustion, not too far from where she 
 was leaning against the grass-grown bank which 
 dropped from the belt of wood to the shore.
 
 124 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 "I bought Mrs. Smith's car," he said casually, hav- 
 ing once more recovered full use of his faculties. 
 
 "Oh, did you?" she exclaimed. "I'm glad because 
 she wanted to dispose of it. You'll find it a good little 
 car." 
 
 "I'm sure I shall," he agreed, grateful that she ap- 
 proved the proceeding. 
 
 "I've been wondering," he went on, with a quick in- 
 spiration, "whether I might perhaps be permitted to 
 leave it with Mrs. Smith, until I move down here. 
 I'm living at the Fifth Avenue in Manhattan at pres- 
 ent, and I've another car there. It would be a great 
 convenience to me if I could get her to make some use 
 of it, and so keep it in tune till " 
 
 "I'm afraid she couldn't consent to such an arrange- 
 ment," the girl said quietly. 
 
 "I'm staying with Mrs. Smith," she added, "and so 
 I know most of her plans." 
 
 Thus nonplussed, Quaintance could not well pursue 
 that subject, and a glance upward, to see whether his 
 suggestion had caused her any offence, almost cost him 
 his self-control again. 
 
 "This is a charming spot," he said, somewhat lamely, 
 feeling it very hard that he should have to limit him- 
 self to such banalities while words of so much more 
 import were on the tip of his tongue. But he realized 
 that he could not be too cautious in his walk and con- 
 duct on this occasion, when the least slip might lose 
 him all he had so far won from Dame Fortune, and 
 maybe more. He had no illusions as to Mrs. Smith's 
 probable opinion of his behavior, and could not afford 
 a single false step lest he forfeit his precarious stand- 
 ing with the girl as well.
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 125 
 
 "Very," she replied easily. "I'm very fond of it." 
 
 "I love it," he averred with great fervor, and got up 
 suddenly to resume operations. 
 
 He had almost asked her whether she did not prefer 
 it to such scenes as that in which they had first en- 
 countered each other, in Martin's, but recollected in 
 time that she probably would not care to be reminded 
 of that incident. Later on, when they should have 
 learned to know each other better, when she should 
 have become accustomed to meeting him as a near 
 neighbor, there would be time enough to clear up the 
 vague atmosphere of mystery which still encompassed 
 her. He had already decided that he must settle down 
 in Stormport, as close to the bungalow as he could find 
 a roof to shelter him, and, at the moment, the best way 
 to her good graces would be forthwith to find the 
 bracelet. That it was which must constitute an endur- 
 ing link between them. 
 
 "Did you go far beyond the other edge of the 
 creek ?" he asked briskly, adventuring a brief glance at 
 her from the brink. "Are you quite sure that you 
 dropped it in the water?" 
 
 A sea-bird cried shrilly from the marsh beyond the 
 bridge, hidden from sight by the intervening trees, and 
 at the sound she started aghast, her eyes dilated. He 
 could sympathize with her alarm, for the long, wailing 
 note, rising unexpectedly from that silent solitude, had 
 been sufficiently disconcerting. 
 
 "I went straight along the sand to the point," she 
 said hurriedly, "and sat down for a little there. Per- 
 haps it dropped on dry land after all." 
 
 "I'd better make sure that it didn't before I begin to 
 make the dirt fly here," he suggested. "It won't take
 
 126 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 ten minutes to do so, and may save us time in the long 
 run. If not, I'll begin dredging operations in earnest 
 as soon as I get back." 
 
 She nodded concurrence, and, as he set off on his 
 errand, the sea-bird cried again from the creek. 
 
 He traced the impress of two bare feet step by step 
 to the further spit, and then round the corner to where 
 she had sat looking out to sea. Close research there at 
 length brought the bracelet to light. It lay half buried 
 beside a heap of white sand with which she had been 
 amusing herself, trickling it through her taper fingers. 
 A print of her hand appeared where she had patted the 
 pyramid into shape, and Quaintance stooped down a 
 second time to lay his great fist reverently on it. 
 
 As he hurried back to her with his find he could not 
 help turning it over, and there on the inside of the 
 broad gold band with the broken chain which had let 
 it slip from her slender wrist was the one word, "Dag- 
 mar." 
 
 "Dagmar," he said to himself, and the name sounded 
 musically in his ears. It was such as he would have 
 chosen for her, and became her blonde beauty as none 
 other would. It might well be that she had the blood 
 of some old sea-king in her veins, so gently dignified 
 was she, so queenly. He looked for her eagerly, to ap- 
 prise her of his success, but she was not anywhere visi- 
 ble, and, when he had once more splashed through the 
 rapidly rising creek, in the certainty that she must be 
 ensconced in the shade of the bushes on the other side, 
 it was only to find the spot at which he had left her un- 
 tenanted. She had no doubt got tired of waiting, and 
 so started homewards. 
 
 That did not in the least disturb Quaintance's equa-
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 127, 
 
 nimity. On the contrary rather, since it afforded him 
 fair excuse for further effort on his own behalf. He 
 had now a golden key to the shrine in which he aspired 
 to find footing, and no dragon guardian need seek to 
 deprive him thereof. He would deliver the bracelet 
 to its rightful owner and to none other. He whistled 
 blithely while he donned socks and shoes, sang as he 
 started along the shore toward the bungalow at a 
 smart pace. 
 
 As he approached the small clearing within 
 which it stood looking seaward but hidden from him 
 by a clump of trees, he fell silent again, and was glad 
 of that presently. For, when he came within sight of 
 it, rounding the corner where a little lawn was walled 
 in by the thicket, he saw a man with his back to him 
 staring intently at a shuttered window, whereupon 
 he himself drew back into cover. He had no intention 
 of interviewing a man, and would rather wait till the 
 coast was clear before calling. 
 
 The individual who had unwittingly come between 
 him and his plans did not seem to be satisfied with the 
 shutter. He tried it two or three times to see whether 
 it was securely fastened inside, tapped it with the cane 
 he was carrying, cried to those within some words 
 whose import did not reach Quaintance's ears. Then 
 he repeated the process at the next window, which was 
 also closely covered, and so disappeared round the oc- 
 tagon, while Quaintance, much perturbed by his pres- 
 ence, slipped noiselessly after him through the thicket 
 to see whether he would go indoors. If he did, thought 
 Quaintance, it might be as well to postpone his own 
 visit until the morrow or such more auspicious occa- 
 sion as providence might provide.
 
 128 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 It fell out, however, that the other passed the porch 
 and went sauntering down the track which led to the 
 public road, only pausing to light a cigar, after which 
 he quickened his pace perceptibly. And Quaintance, 
 having assured himself that he had really gone, felt 
 grateful to him for going. It had not been possible to 
 see much of his appearance, but he might be set down 
 as a man of about thirty, was wearing a light tweed 
 suit and a panama, had a flower in his buttonhole, and 
 carried a cane with much silver about it. He was well 
 proportioned and comely. His carriage was smart, al- 
 most military. He might turn out to be a dangerous 
 rival. 
 
 In any case Quaintance was glad to have seen the 
 last of him for the time being, and, stepping out into 
 the track himself, turned back toward the porch as 
 though he had come from the beach by the same path 
 he had followed thither. He knocked at the door, and, 
 while he waited, fortified himself in his resolve not to 
 be cajoled out of the bracelet by Mrs. Smith. But no 
 one opened to him, and he knocked again, with a like 
 result. 
 
 A swift suspicion invaded his mind. He hammered 
 upon the panel in front of him, and even that failed 'to 
 elicit any response from within. With a sinking heart 
 he walked round the building. All its windows were 
 shuttered. The bungalow was deserted. 
 
 He groaned disgustedly. That, then, was why the 
 other had been so assiduous in his investigations. And 
 what was he, Quaintance, going to do now? The bun- 
 galow had evidently been vacated for good. There 
 was nothing to be gained by standing there gaping at 
 it. He must hurry into Stormport, and there make
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 129 
 
 such inquiry as he might regarding its recent inmates. 
 It was still his obvious duty to deliver the bracelet into 
 its owner's hands. 
 
 He made for his automobile in haste, half hoping that 
 he might still overtake the travelers before their train 
 should have left the station. Failing that he would 
 learn more to-morrow when he came back for the run- 
 about. But how was he to obtain possession of that if 
 they had gone off for good ! Mrs. Smith's idea of a 
 square deal seemed elementary in the extreme ! 
 
 Utterly disconcerted, he turned into the tangle with- 
 in which he had secreted his car, and received a still 
 more distressing shock, for the car was no longer 
 there.
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 MRS. SMITH'S IDEA OF A SQUARE DEAL 
 
 Fanchette had raised no objections when her young 
 mistress had spoken of selling the runabout, since it 
 seemed that, otherwise, they would soon be reduced 
 to dire straits. Count as she might, there were but 
 twenty dollars left in the oaken coffer which was their 
 only available treasury since Jules Chevrel had de- 
 spoiled them of their small balance in the New York 
 bank. And further forcible argument in favor of the 
 sale was that furnished by the week's bills which she 
 settled in Stormport on Saturday. It proved most con- 
 vincingly that twenty dollars would not last them long. 
 
 On Sunday, therefore, they definitely decided to ad- 
 vertise the car which had been such a source of pleasure 
 to both of them. Fanchette had very often ac- 
 companied the girl on her excursions, and had even 
 become, under her tuition, a fairly expert mechanic. 
 Now all she had to solace her was the thought that, 
 since Jules Chevrel was no further away than New 
 York, it would not have been safe for either of them to 
 be seen about so openly. The dread that the French- 
 man would yet discover their whereabouts was always 
 with her, and she even feared that their modest adver- 
 tisement might bring undesirable visitors to the bun- 
 galow. 
 
 Of the half dozen envelopes which came to them 
 
 130
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 131 
 
 from the newspaper office, five were circulars from 
 agencies and salesrooms, and only the sixth seemed to 
 hold out any hope of business resulting. It was dated 
 from the Fifth Avenue Hotel, subscribed by A. New- 
 man, conveyed no just cause for suspicion as to its good 
 faith, and Fanchette answered it according to the girl's 
 dictation, signing herself, for politic reasons, F. Smith, 
 a free translation of Fanchette Lefevre. She was 
 known as F. Smith in Stormport, the bungalow was 
 rented to her in that name, and her charge passed col- 
 loquially as "the Smith woman's boarder." 
 
 Their tenancy of the tiny dwelling expired at the end 
 of that month, and, after having despatched her reply, 
 Fanchette devoted herself to packing up their belong- 
 ings, as some precaution against any hostile movement 
 in their direction. It was for the girl that she feared, 
 and she was devoted body and soul to her mistress, 
 would fight for her to the last ditch. 
 
 For these reasons she received Quaintance with a 
 distrust which was somewhat too evident, although it 
 must be conceded that his subsequent behavior af- 
 forded her justification. In the first place he seemed 
 disappointed to see her, as though he had half expected 
 to see some one else, and, while she was still congratu- 
 lating herself on the fact that the girl had gone off to 
 the beach, he stumbled over the name he gave. Then 
 he asked idle questions, appeared to be interested in 
 the car's recent movements rather than in its actual 
 efficiency, which was what he had come there to deter- 
 mine. She was almost tempted to turn him away be- 
 fore he at last proceeded with his inspection and so, to 
 some extent, lulled her doubts. 
 
 It was no slight relief to her when he decided to buy
 
 132 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 the car, but that again was detracted from by his inva- 
 sion of their tiny stronghold and his vacillation as to 
 when he would take delivery of his purchase. She 
 did not quite know what to make of him in the end* 
 His appearance was all in his favor, and he looked too 
 frank a gentleman to act as a spy in their camp. But, 
 none the less, Fanchette, who trusted nothing in trous- 
 ers, followed him as he departed, for all that she had 
 ostensibly bolted the door behind him. 
 
 When he backed the big touring car in among the 
 trees half way dow r n the track her distrust increased. 
 It was evident that he had come there with double in- 
 tention of some sort. She shadowed him through the 
 thicket as far as the road, and stayed there on watch 
 under cover while he turned along toward the creek. 
 
 After he disappeared she stood undecided whether 
 to walk as far as the bend and see if he had crossed the 
 bridge on his way to Stormport, or to take to the 
 shore in search of her mistress, but that was deter- 
 mined for her by the approach of a second pedestrian, 
 who came into view precisely where she had lost sight 
 of the other, at a point where the road zigzags to avoid 
 a marsh. Fanchette knew him at once, and all her 
 worst fears were confirmed, for he was none other 
 than their arch-enemy, source of their every misfor- 
 tune. 
 
 To fly from him would have been futile since he had 
 found out their poor secret. She stayed where she 
 was, in hiding, and watched him as he drew nearer. 
 Her face was pale now, her lips moved tremulously, 
 although, to be fair to the oncomer, there was nothing 
 to terrify her in his outward appearance. 
 
 He was a man of medium height, a young man, about
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 133 
 
 thirty, wearing a light tweed suit and a panama. He 
 had a flower in his buttonhole, and carried a cane with 
 much silver about it. His features were dark, and most 
 women would have described them as handsome, but 
 a man, a man of the world especially, would have dis- 
 covered about them the ugly stamp left by evil living. 
 At any rate they were very well moulded and regular, 
 like the white teeth which showed when he smiled. He 
 was smiling now. 
 
 Fanchette augered no good from that fact. She was 
 staring out at him from under the leaves with despair 
 in her eyes, and, when he came to the narrow track 
 leading through the trees to the bungalow, he halted 
 there, almost opposite her. 
 
 "PesteT said he aloud, looking down it as far as was 
 possible, speaking quick French. "Where does that 
 path lead to? A field, no doubt. What human being 
 would live in such wilds ! Forward, then, Etienne, mon 
 brave gar! We've the whole afternoon to devote to our 
 search. There will be time enough to explore this 
 later, if need be." 
 
 He passed on, and Fanchette still stared, but it was 
 at his back now. Her pale lips parted and the breath 
 came quickly through them. Her bosom heaved. She 
 started, as if from a trance, crossed herself, wrung her 
 hands, and fled swiftly toward the bungalow. 
 
 Half-way up the lane she paused, a desperate scheme 
 of escape already afloat in her mind. There was only 
 the stranger's motor, and her need was very urgent. 
 In it lay a last rash resort, the sole, slender thread of 
 hope that she might yet save the situation and with 
 every chance against her. 
 
 "Heaven help us if I'm caught at it !" said Fanchette,
 
 134 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 and pushed through the branches behind which the big 
 car was hidden. 
 
 In action she soon recovered her self-command, be- 
 came once more cool and resourceful. The possibility 
 of success in such enterprise was of the slightest, but, 
 be the upshot what it might, she was ready to run the 
 risk. She drove the big touring-car up to the porch, 
 managing it without difficulty, and left it there while 
 she was preparing for flight. In case its owner should 
 return inopportunely she could explain to him that it 
 had been unsafe where he had left it. 
 
 It did not take ten minutes to finish the light packing 
 left to be done, and, having dragged the heavy baggage 
 as far as the kitchen, she set shutters on the windows, 
 working with method, at her best speed. She was 
 wonderfully active for a woman of her years, and ex- 
 citement lent her added strength. When all was ready 
 for the road she loaded the car up, its folding seats al- 
 lowing her space sufficient. The entire personal prop- 
 erty of the bungalow's two inmates was much less 
 bulky than it might have been. 
 
 At the crucial moment, she remembered that 
 she must leave word for the owner of the car, lest he 
 should think she had stolen it outright. She sat down, 
 trembling with nervous impatience, and penned a hur- 
 ried note, assuring him that it would be safely returned 
 to him at his hotel in Manhattan, imploring him to ex- 
 cuse the liberty which she had perforce taken, telling 
 him that the key of the barn in which trie runabout was 
 housed might be found hanging in the outer porch. In 
 it, she thought, he might well reach New York, and, 
 on the whole, he would not be excessively inconveni- 
 enced.
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 135 
 
 This she left in an envelope transfixed to a tree- 
 trunk where he could not but catch sight of it when he 
 came for his car, and drove on with the keys of the 
 empty bungalow on the seat beside her. These she 
 would leave in Stormport. And the house was clean as 
 a new pin. There need be no notoriety or unpleasant- 
 ness about their departure if they were only allowed 
 to depart. 
 
 Her heart was thumping audibly as she slowed down 
 to take the turn into the public road, and she felt sure 
 she must scream if she should discover any man on the 
 open stretch there. It was empty, and she gulped 
 down a great, dry sob as she sped forward reck- 
 lessly, knowing that it was now too late to falter or 
 turn back. She took the curves at a dangerous pace, 
 scarcely using the horn in case it should attract un- 
 friendly attention, and, as she stopped at the roadside 
 before the bridge, sent a long, wailing cry ringing 
 shorewards, the call of a sea-bird which she had learned 
 as a child on the rocks of La Roche-Segur. 
 
 She had taught her young mistress that, in prevision 
 of just such mischance. If only the girl should have 
 heard it, all might yet go well. So far everything had 
 turned out in her favor, and she must rely on its carry- 
 ing power for the final accomplishment of her bold pro- 
 ject. She repressed her increasing disquiet with a great 
 effort, and, after an interval, uttered the cry again. 
 
 A few moments later she caught sight of a white 
 dress moving rapidly through the near thicket in her 
 direction, and presently the girl emerged, faintly 
 flushed, somewhat breathless, and gravely alarmed, but 
 collected enough. 
 
 "What is it, Fanchette?" she cried as she came to
 
 136 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 the edge of the road and looked out to where the other 
 was beckoning her to make still more haste. 
 
 "It is Monsieur!" Fanchette replied without waste 
 of words. "He is here. I saw him myself. We must 
 fly. Will you take the wheel from me. My eyes " 
 
 The girl jumped in beside her and threw an arm 
 round her neck, regardless of her own interests in her 
 quick sympathy with the other's overstrung tears. 
 
 "Poor Fanchette !" she said soothingly, and the hard- 
 featured maid recovered herself at once under the 
 stress of their dire necessity. 
 
 "Let us go on," she implored. "There is not a mo- 
 ment to lose. All I have to tell you will hear by the 
 way, and meantime let us go on." 
 
 The girl slipped obediently into the driving seat. 
 She must trust herself to the other's guidance, since 
 she herself was quite in the dark as to everything ex- 
 cept the broad fact that Monsieur was in the near 
 neighborhood, hard on their trail. And that spur was 
 more than sufficient. 
 
 "Whither, Fanchette?" she asked. 
 
 "Through Stormport, to leave the keys, and then to 
 New York." 
 
 They were into the village before there was time for 
 any further remark, and out again at the extreme limit 
 of legal speed. The high-powered car purred softly 
 as its fair driver gave it its head by degrees until it 
 was stretching out to its work in earnest. Fanchette 
 sat stiffly with her hands folded in front of her, turn- 
 ing over in her own mind the possible consequences of 
 crime, seeking some plan to save her mistress scathe- 
 less, but by no means penitent. The girl crouched over
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 137 
 
 the wheel, her sombrely sparkling eyes all intent on 
 her own task. 
 
 Reaching Riverhead, they had to slow down, and, 
 having passed safely through its long, sleepy street, 
 Fanchette drew a deep breath of relief. 
 
 "You are sure it was Monsieur himself?" her com- 
 panion asked suddenly. "Did he have speech with you, 
 Fanchette? Tell me what has happened. I can't un- 
 derstand." 
 
 "I was at the end of the path, at the roadside, when 
 he passed by," Fanchette answered, "but he did not see 
 me. He thought it looked too rough to lead to a 
 house, and went further on. But he will be back at 
 the bungalow before dark." 
 
 The girl gave vent to a tired sigh, and her proud 
 head drooped. But she soon bethought herself again 
 of their strange position. 
 
 "And this car, Fanchette?" she inquired, looking 
 over her shoulder. "Where did it come from ?" 
 
 "I borrowed it," replied Fanchette briefly. "I am to 
 return it to its owner as soon as we reach New York." 
 
 She compressed her lips, determined to part with no 
 further explanation on that point, but the precaution 
 was needless. Her charge was accustomed to taking a 
 good deal for granted when Fanchette assumed con- 
 trol, and results had always justified her in her confi- 
 dence. 
 
 "What are you going to do when we get there?" she 
 asked reflectively, and Fanchette swiftly unfolded the 
 scheme she had formed. 
 
 "I think," she suggested, "that, while Monsieur is in 
 this country, we should hasten back to Paris that you 
 may obtain the money you still have left in the bank
 
 138 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 there. It will be easy enough to withdraw it in per- 
 son, while he is absent. And, with it, you will be free 
 to return to America, or you might live in England at 
 
 less expense, or . There are other countries also. 
 
 If we go at once, there will be the less risk, and we can 
 learn in Paris when he is expected back, so that we may 
 be elsewhere before he arrives." 
 
 "That seems a good plan," the girl agreed wearily. 
 
 "And we might go on to London from Paris. It 
 should surely be possible to bury oneself there. I've 
 paid a long price for my folly, Fanchette, and you've 
 paid heavily too. I don't know what I'd be doing 
 without you. Life wouldn't be worth living now, if I 
 were entirely alone." 
 
 Fanchette fondled the white hand on the steering- 
 wheel. 
 
 "I shall always be mademoiselle's to command," she 
 replied with a tender formality meant to conceal the 
 wistful affection which was making her voice tremble. 
 And, having thus mapped out their immediate future, 
 they both fell silent again. 
 
 Mile after mile dropped away from the whirring 
 wheels, and Fanchette felt ever more confident that her 
 appeal to the owner of the providential car had not 
 failed of good effect. She had been dumbly dreading 
 that, somewhere along the road, a policeman would 
 spring out and stop them, bid them turn back to 
 Stormport and take him with them. In which case 
 she could but admit that she was thief and a robber, 
 beg that her innocent mistress should be allowed to 
 proceed by train to the city. But, as dusk settled over 
 the open landscape, she plucked up heart, and when, 
 after a fast run, they had driven unharmed through
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 139 
 
 the lighted streets of Jamaica, she had almost dis- 
 counted the possibility that they might still be held up 
 at the ferry ahead of them. 
 
 She was the more dismayed, therefore, when a man 
 hailed them as they drove into the dock and stooped 
 down to identify the registered number in front of the 
 car. She had thrown the rug from her knees in readi- 
 ness to descend and be marched off to prison, when he 
 came forward holding out a yellow envelope, which, 
 she felt sure, must be legal warrant for her arrest. 
 
 "For Miss Dagmar," he announced briefly, and, hav- 
 ing handed it to that astonished damsel, made off with- 
 out more ado. 
 
 There was no time to open it then, and, while they 
 crept forward on to the ferry, Fanchette made full con- 
 fession of her misdeed. 
 
 "Jump out and leave me now, ma'mselle," she 
 begged in conclusion as they came to a standstill on 
 deck. "Here is the money I got for you, four hundred 
 and fifty dollars. You must escape with the crowd at 
 the other side, and leave me to explain matters to the 
 police." 
 
 The girl looked grave, and made no reply until she 
 had opened the envelope. The message it held merely 
 said : 
 
 "I have found your bracelet. Please leave word 
 where I may deliver it. Hope you have had a pleasant 
 run. Newman." 
 
 She read that out to Fanchette, and then had to con- 
 fess her own encounter with the car's owner, so that, 
 in view of his unexpected urbanity under grave griev- 
 ance, neither had any fault to find with the other, and 
 both were inwardly prepossessed by the tact he had dis-
 
 I 4 o A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 played in a position which could not but have been 
 most aggravating to him. 
 
 Fanchette's fears thus finally dissipated she even 
 ventured to justify herself in her evil-doing, and the 
 girl did not contradict her assertion that, in any case, 
 all had turned out for the very best. She herself was 
 thinking of the strong, sun-tanned face, of the fearless 
 but very appealing brown eyes she had left behind on 
 the beach, wondering what the man who was always 
 successful would say if he could hear her own sad story 
 of failure. And she did not crumple the telegram up, 
 but kept it smooth and carried it to the hotel with her. 
 
 She drove along Twenty-ninth street to the Martha 
 Washington, and, leaving Fanchette to look to the bag- 
 gage, sat down at a desk to pen a reply. Fanchette 
 took that and the car to the Fifth Avenue Hotel, where 
 she entrusted both to the guardian of the Twenty- 
 fourth street entrance, who willingly took charge of 
 them after he had recovered from his first astonish- 
 ment at sight of such an unusual chauffeur. When she 
 got back to Twenty-ninth street, she found her mis- 
 tress poring over a steamship guide. 
 
 "There's a boat for Havre to-morrow at ten, Fan- 
 chette," said the girl, "and I've booked two berths." 
 
 "Yes, ma'mselle," answered Fanchette submissively, 
 but also in earnest approval. And her heart was filled 
 with gratitude to the man whose forbearance had thus 
 enabled her to snatch her lamb from the very jaws of 
 the wolf. It would no doubt have gratified Quaint- 
 ance greatly to know how he had risen in her esteem. 
 
 But Quaintance was in quite another mood with 
 regard to her. And who shall blame him ? For, while 
 he still stood, blinking, bewildered, within the thicket
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 141 
 
 in whose safe keeping he had left his car, a hundred 
 ugly suspicions invaded his mind. The worst of 
 these was that he might have been mistaken in his es- 
 timate of the girl. 
 
 He recalled each circumstance connected with her, 
 from the moment when he had first noticed her on 
 Fifth Avenue, to her hasty nod of concurrence 
 in the errand which had so recently sundered them, 
 and given her opportunity to escape him. He did not 
 forget the rat-faced Frenchman, or Mrs. Smith's ob- 
 vious constraint with himself : nor yet the individual he 
 had seen seeking ingress to the bungalow. 
 
 Looking facts in the face he found himself minus 
 a costly touring car and a round sum in cash. As sole 
 offset to which he had acquired a plain gold bracelet, 
 engraved with the name " Dagmar." That was what 
 hurt him most the idea that " Dagmar" 
 
 He stood there frowning vexedly, biting his lip, and 
 his eyes lit on an envelope affixed to a tree-trunk by 
 means of a woman's hat-pin. It was addressed to him- 
 self, and he was soon possessed of Fanchette's impas- 
 sioned appeal. It left him in gravest perplexity, 
 quite undecided how he should act, for five full min- 
 utes before he came to the conclusion that he could not 
 very well interfere now with her high-handed proce- 
 dure. 
 
 He had no doubt that the girl had gone off with her, 
 and to New York, since the touring car was to be re- 
 delivered to him at his hotel there. And for that 
 reason he could not well take any steps to intercept it 
 en route. He would rather suffer its total loss uncom- 
 plainingly, if Mrs. Smith cared to take such further
 
 I 4 2 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 advantage of his complaisance, than have the girl sub- 
 jected to any annoyance which he could save her. 
 
 Some thought of pursuit crossed his mind, but He 
 soon dismissed that. The fugitives had nearly an hour's 
 start already, and it was not likely that the runabout 
 could overtake the touring car under any such handi- 
 cap. There was obviously nothing for it but to make 
 the best of his own way back to Manhattan, reserving 
 the right to call Mrs. Smith to account for her piratical 
 conduct at the earliest opportunity. 
 
 But he was in the. worst of tempers as he once more 
 made for the porch to procure the key of the barn. The 
 atmosphere of mystery in which the girl seemed to 
 move was extremely distasteful to him. He found 
 Mrs. Smith's manoeuvres intensely irritating, and could 
 by no means divine the nature of the alleged necessity 
 which had deprived him of his anticipated reward for 
 having recovered the missing bracelet. 
 
 It was partly a magnanimous impulse and partly a 
 plan in furtherance of his own interests which caused 
 him to stop at the station in Stormport and send on 
 the wire whose delivery at the dock in Long Island 
 City had so alarmed Fanchette. And, having done 
 that, he settled down to his long, lonely run, fretting 
 all the way to New York over these complications, by 
 no means the least of which was the young man in 
 the light tweed suit and panama. 
 
 It was after eleven when he reached the garage off 
 Broadway where he kept his car, and there the car was 
 in its usual place. The hotel had called up soon after 
 nine, a clerk told him, to ask that some one be sent to 
 take Mr. Newman's automobile away from the Twenty- 
 fourth street entrance.
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 143 
 
 Quaintance had his new purchase installed at its side, 
 and, having left strict injunctions that the smaller car 
 be very carefully cleaned and tended, hurried off to 
 cross-question the Twenty-fourth street door-keeper. 
 That worthy had a letter for him, and earned an easy 
 dollar by imparting to him the details of a very brief 
 interview with the grey-haired, elderly woman who had 
 delivered it with the car. Whereafter the recipient of 
 that attention hurried off to his room, there to peruse 
 the precious missive at leisure. He had already noticed 
 that the address had not been penned by Mrs. Smith. 
 
 "Believe me, I regret the trouble I have caused you," it 
 said, in clear, straightforward handwriting which some- 
 how brought back to him still more vividly the writer's 
 fair, frank face. 
 
 "// you will kindly keep the bracelet as," as had been 
 crossed out and until substituted "// you will kindly 
 keep the bracelet until I find an opportunity to send for it 
 I shall be still more grateful to you." 
 
 It said no more than that, and was signed simply 
 "Dagmar." Paper nor envelope held any single clue 
 to where it had been written. She did not mean that 
 he should know her whereabouts. Quaintance judged 
 rightly that she would let the matter rest there, that 
 he would hear no more from her, might count the 
 bracelet his now. He read between the lines that she 
 would thus pay forfeit gracefully, and end the incident. 
 He did not blame her for a moment, but neither did he 
 hold himself bound to accept dismissal otherwise than 
 in specific terms. He sat up late, smoking pipe after 
 pipe, revolving fresh plans for her rediscovery. 
 
 Next morning he was up betimes, betook himself 
 with his cigar along Fifth Avenue. None of his over-
 
 144 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 night schemes seemed so feasible in broad daylight, and 
 he was temporarily at a loose end. Dagmar he called 
 her Dagmar now, since she had signed herself thus, 
 without surname Dagmar was in New York, and he 
 might meet her anywhere. Or again he might not. 
 Between these two eventualities there was the slender 
 thread of chance to guide him to that which was the 
 goal of all his desires. How could he tell which way 
 to turn? He must go blindly to the outcome, what- 
 ever it should be. 
 
 Passing the Holland House he saw a string of han- 
 soms come careering down the avenue. The first of 
 these slowed up, drew in toward the kerb, its driver 
 hailing him with the habitual, "Keb, sir?" 
 
 He shook his head indifferently, and sauntered on, 
 but the man turned, and followed him, reiterating his 
 monotonous inquiry until Quaintance lost patience 
 with him. 
 
 "Devil take you!" he cried irritably. "Haven't I 
 told you I don't want a cab." 
 
 "Do you not wish to drive in poor old J. J.'s keb?" 
 asked a hurt voice, and he jumped round to stare up 
 at the figure on the dicky. It wore a shabby boxcloth 
 coat bedecked with huge pearl buttons, and a silk hat, 
 somewhat too glossy in that connection, beneath whose 
 curly brim appeared Cornoyer's grinning countenance. 
 Quaintance looked back and saw that the whole string 
 had drawn up close behind. The second held a single 
 passenger, whose ruddy, weather-beaten face, adorned 
 with a contented smile, a huge cigar, stamped him the 
 lawful driver of the first. The others carried baggage. 
 
 "Jomp in," Cornoyer begged. "Jomp right in, 
 Newman, and I'll drive you to the docks. You must
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 145 
 
 come with me to the steamer. I am on my way home 
 to Paris." 
 
 Quaintance could not but laugh at the idea of the 
 procession, and an erratic impulse, added to the fact 
 that an assiduous policeman was eyeing them sus- 
 piciously, caused him to join it. 
 
 "But no tomfoolery," he stipulated. "Drive straight 
 old man. Don't play at funerals unless you want to 
 miss your boat. It's nearly ten already." 
 
 Cornoyer cheerfully adopted his advice, and proved 
 himself no clumsy whip by the dexterity with which he 
 shaved each imminent disaster courted by the pace he 
 set. The other drivers emulated him and many curious 
 glances were directed toward the strange cortege which 
 went whipping down the avenue. Cornoyer's last ap- 
 pearance on that fashionable thoroughfare did not lack 
 eclat. 
 
 They turned round by the Cornucopia in order that 
 the traveler might leave cards there, and early visi- 
 tors to that quiet club flocked to the windows to see 
 him start again, returning his grief-stricken flourish of 
 farewell with interest. Everyone liked Cornoyer, and 
 his ridiculous exit was just what might have been ex- 
 pected of him, but Quaintance felt glad when they once 
 more gained Fifth Avenue, and held straight on for 
 Washington Square and Morton street. He was still 
 more relieved when they reached the dock, and Cor- 
 noyer, having doffed his borrowed overcoat and paid 
 off his transport so liberally that they accorded him a 
 round of cheers, permitted himself to be led toward the 
 throng alongside the steamer. 
 
 "Gee whiz!" said that gentleman suddenly, "she 
 seems to be goin' away."
 
 146 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 This was all too true, for there was already a widen- 
 ing gulf between her lofty steel side and the pier. The 
 last of the warps had been let go. She had started for 
 Havre. 
 
 He shrugged his shoulders, and turned to Quaint- 
 ance with an air of inexhaustible patience. 
 
 "Chance of mine I didn't send my baggage down be- 
 fore me !" said he. 
 
 But Quaintance paid no attention to him. He was 
 staring up at a figure which had crossed the deck from 
 the cabin-companion to the poop-rail. It was Dag- 
 mar. She was gazing forward, her face turned from 
 him, but he knew instinctively that it was she. And, 
 ere he could bring himself to cry out to her before all 
 these people, she had moved away, out of sight. 
 
 The shock of such sudden misfortune stunned him. 
 He was too dazed to notice a face in the crowd on 
 shore, with two crafty eyes which were watching him 
 with malevolent mirth. 
 
 "You're too late this time, mon ami," muttered Jules 
 Chevrel to himself, "and you've lost her now, for 
 good. She'll step right into our net on the other side. 
 And I hope you'll be fool enough to follow her in time 
 to see how she'll squirm!"
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 DOMINIC SEAGER MAKES SEVERAL STARTLING DIS- 
 COVERIES 
 
 After Dominic Seager had paid for his passage to 
 Paris he had about nine hundred dollars left of the 
 thousand obtained from his arbitrary confederate in 
 the scene which was to make both their fortunes. Hav- 
 ing settled his Long Beach hotel bill and entertained 
 himself lavishly on the eve of departure, there were 
 less than eight hundred to take on board ship with him. 
 His sporting instincts cost him some three hundred 
 during the voyage, so that when he at length reached 
 Paris from Cherbourg, he could not count even five 
 hundred in his note-case. 
 
 But no such commercial calculations disturbed his 
 complacent faith in the future. It would not be long 
 before he could sneer at such petty sums altogether, 
 and then he might find means to mark his displeasure 
 with Arendsen's vulgar parsimony. The mere idea 
 that he had been limited, and at a juncture so all-im- 
 portant, to such a paltry total expenditure galled him 
 whenever he thought of it, but, as he seldom thought of 
 such matters while his pockets were still sufficiently 
 lined for the day, he did not suffer unduly in that re- 
 spect. 
 
 All he had to do now, he thought to himself, lying
 
 148 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 back in a rickety fiacre on his way from the station to 
 that hotel which he had elected to honor with his pa- 
 tronage, was to present himself at the address given 
 him by the San Francisco lawyers, to wit, the Misses 
 \Yinters' select pension, in the Avenue Morceau, and 
 there announce to Miles Quaintance's adopted daugh- 
 ter that he had come thither to marry her. Soon after 
 that there would be millions at his disposal, not fewer 
 than twelve and a half of them counting in francs, and 
 as many more than that as he could possibly make it. 
 
 It would be strange if he could not come to such 
 terms with the girl as should leave him his freedom 
 and the lion's share of the spoil. Then he would either 
 promptly divorce her, or disappear, as she should pre- 
 fer. The latter would probably be the more simple 
 method, since he could in that way resume his former 
 identity and so effectually cover his fraudulent tracks. 
 
 It also remained to be seen whether, once he had 
 the money safe in hand, he could not tax to good pur- 
 pose Arendsen's most preposterous claim. The ransom 
 he had been forced to promise that robber was alto- 
 gether out of the question. Any manoeuvre of that 
 sort would, of course, take very delicate management, 
 but a millionaire might accomplish much that would 
 be impossible to a poor man. His estimate of prospec- 
 tive profits on the present venture had risen to twenty- 
 five millions of francs when he reached the Cours-la- 
 Reine and got out before the Hotel du Palais. 
 
 He had decided to put up there for the twofold 
 reason that it was a conventionally correct establish- 
 ment and at the same time conveniently situated be- 
 tween the Avenue Marceau and his own old haunts in 
 the Ville-Lumiere. While he registered he gave the
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 149 
 
 uninterested vestibule to understand that he was some- 
 one of importance. 
 
 When he arrived it was his firm intention to carry 
 out his mission on the instant. But, by the time he had 
 changed his clothes and otherwise refreshed himself, 
 dusk had come down. And he remembered that the 
 lights in the Rue Royale had already begun to twinkle 
 invitingly as he had passed the Madeleine. It was 
 long since he had set foot in the city of pleasure, and 
 he had lived roughly, at hazard, since then. It would 
 make no appreciable difference if he allowed himself 
 twenty-four hours' liberty first. There would still be 
 time and to spare for all practical purposes. 
 
 He turned west instead of east as he left the hotel, 
 in correct evening dress, with his opera-hat at the most 
 rakish of angles, and dined at the Ritz, in the Place 
 Vendome, where he treated himself royally, without 
 regard to expense, feeling that he was in his true ele- 
 ment in its atmosphere of luxury and extravagance. 
 Thence a leisurely stroll, with a good cigar in his lips, 
 took him to the Rue Montpensier, where, at the Palais- 
 Royal, he sat and laughed for an hour or two over a 
 French farce of the broadest. 
 
 A hearty supper at Maxim's induced added cheerful- 
 ness, and, having learned from a benevolent bystander 
 at the bar there that a whilom resort of his was still 
 doing business at the old stand, he resolved to pay it a 
 surprise visit before returning to his hotel. He con- 
 sidered that it would be most unwise to throw away 
 any chance of increasing his scanty capital, and, while 
 he was in the vein, would just speculate a few francs 
 at the tables on a safe and certain system he had 
 evolved since his last disaster in that direction.
 
 150 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 He called a cab and went clattering back to the nar- 
 row Rue des Bons Enfants, where it did not take him 
 long to get rid of what cash he had with him. Where- 
 upon he hurried off to the Cours-la-Reine with some 
 muddled idea of returning with what he had left there 
 and breaking the bank after all, but, at sight of his 
 bed, a providential drowsiness overcame him, and he 
 lay down. 
 
 It was nearly noon next day before he awoke, still 
 in crumpled evening clothes, haggard, heavy-eyed, and 
 suffering from an unclean taste in his mouth. He 
 blamed this to the last brandy-and-soda of which he 
 had partaken, at the croupier's invitation, in the Street 
 of the Good Children. 
 
 He once more counted his assets, uneasily now, and 
 found them sadly shrunk. And when, after a cold bath 
 and light breakfast, he at length started for the Misses 
 Winters' select pension, it was under the strong convic- 
 tion that he had somehow been made a fool of by 
 someone, and that he must forthwith exact satisfaction 
 somewhere for such affront. He rang with vicious em- 
 phasis the door-bell of the prim dwelling in the Avenue 
 Marceau, and was unnecessarily abrupt with the maid 
 who answered it. 
 
 He was left to kick his heels in a stiffly furnished 
 drawing-room for fully ten minutes while the Misses 
 Winters arrayed themselves to receive their visitor. 
 His tone to them when they did appear was the re- 
 verse of conciliatory. It made the two elderly maidens 
 nervous. 
 
 "I told that stupid girl that I came here to see Miss 
 Quaintance," he said in a brusque, quarrelsome tone,
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 151 
 
 and Miss Sophia looked somewhat blankly at her sister 
 Jane. It was Miss Jane who replied. 
 
 "Miss Quaintance is no longer with us, Mr. Quaint- 
 ance." 
 
 Seager stared at her, and his astonishment was so 
 evident that Sophia felt called upon to supplement the 
 assertion. 
 
 "What my sister Jane says is quite correct. Miss 
 Quaintance is no longer with us," she echoed, looking 
 not unlike a grey parrot with her aquiline English 
 features and a peaked cap for crest. 
 
 "The deuce she isn't!" gasped Seager, aghast at the 
 grave possibilities opening up. 
 
 "Then where is she?" 
 
 Miss Jane laid a tremulous hand on Sophia. She 
 was not accustomed to being addressed as though she 
 were a delinquent servant, but, nevertheless, she an- 
 swered him, in a voice meant to convey that fact to his 
 understanding. 
 
 "You have surely heard, Mr. Quaintance," she said, 
 "that Miss Quaintance returned to the United States 
 of America immediately she heard the sad news of Mr. 
 Miles Ouaintance's death." 
 
 "You have surely heard that, Mr. Quaintance," 
 echoed Miss Sophia as chorus, but Seager was frown- 
 ing so fiercely now that the words were no more than 
 a whisper. 
 
 "The devil she did !" he exclaimed, and the two spin- 
 sters shrank from him of common impulse. They 
 neither could nor would tolerate such freedom of 
 speech in their presence. They rose together, and 
 bowed together, and would have withdrawn at once
 
 152 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 had not he divined their reason for that step and pre- 
 vented it by means of a hasty apology. 
 
 "One moment, one moment, ladies/' he begged, 
 more suavely, "and pardon my seeming discourtesy. 
 You'll understand how I feel when I tell you that I've 
 just arrived from the States in the full expectation of 
 finding Miss Quaintance here. Your information 
 comes as a great blow to me. Are you quite sure that 
 what you say is correct?" 
 
 Miss Jane looked puzzled, and Miss Sophia adopted 
 the same expression. 
 
 "Miss Quaintance left us nearly a year ago," said the 
 former frigidly. "We wrote her lawyers in San Fran- 
 cisco that she intended to go there. We had a letter 
 from her afterwards to say she had reached New York. 
 That is all we know, Mr. Quaintance." 
 
 "That is all we know," Miss Sophia affirmed. 
 
 "But but," Seager stammered, "but it was those 
 same San Francisco lawyers who sent me to you. They 
 had no word of her having left you. There must have 
 been some mistake." 
 
 "There may be," Miss Jane admitted with quiet dig- 
 nity, "but we are not accountable for it." 
 
 "Under no circumstances," said Miss Sophia firmly, 
 "are we accountable." 
 
 Her vain repetition annoyed Seager dispropor- 
 tionately. 
 
 "That remains to be seen," he declared, glaring at 
 her vindictively. "She was little more than a school- 
 girl when you let her undertake such a journey alone, 
 and " 
 
 "She was accompanied by her maid, a most trust-
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 153 
 
 worthy person," asserted Miss Jane, undaunted by his 
 veiled threat. 
 
 "And now, Mr. Quaintance, since we have afforded 
 you such information as we possess, you will perhaps 
 kindly excuse us." 
 
 She swept towards the door, her cap atremble with 
 indignation, and her sister followed without further 
 speech. It was only thus that they could express their 
 strong disapproval of this very vulgar person, and, 
 since there was seemingly no more to be learned from 
 them, he did not wait for a servant to show him down- 
 stairs, but followed them himself. A photograph 
 caught his eye as he passed the piano, and his quick 
 exclamation at sight of it caused Miss Jane to face 
 about on the threshold with inconvenient results to 
 Sophia, hard at her heels. 
 
 "Who's this?" Seager asked, picking up the por- 
 trait while Miss Sophia was backing off the train of her 
 sister's skirt. She looked around, still more at sea. 
 
 "Why, that's Miss Quaintance," she answered invol- 
 untarily, on her own unaided responsibility. 
 
 "Phew!" whistled Seager, and the corners of his 
 eyes wrinkled in a smile of delighted amazement. Curi- 
 osity as to its cause induced the sisters to linger, irreso- 
 lutely. 
 
 "Then I can tell you where Miss Quaintance is. She's 
 in New York. I saw her there not forty-eight hours 
 before I started for this side, and I didn't know who 
 she was. Gad! Isn't that a fierce thing to have hap- 
 pen one? 
 
 "I've never seen either her or my uncle, you see,'* 
 he went on, in response to their looks of bewilderment. 
 "I've spent most of my time abroad for many years
 
 154 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 past, and only heard of my uncle's death while I was 
 in Africa. I didn't even know then that he had adop 
 that he had a daughter. But I hurried home, and, as 
 soon as I reached New York, I wrote his lawyers in 
 San Francisco to let me have her address. 
 
 "They sent me here. I must see her at once, in con- 
 nection with his estate, in which she, of course, has a 
 large interest, but on conditions which only I can 
 make clear to her. 
 
 "You can understand, therefore, how it affected me 
 to hear that she had left you. All the trouble I've taken 
 
 on her behalf thrown away, and Will you do me 
 
 the very great favor to let me have this photo?" 
 
 Miss Jane did not seem very sure that she should 
 comply with such a request, but Miss Sophia's imagina- 
 tion had been fired by the hint of inheritance, and she 
 thought that, if it would help the girl, of whom she 
 had been very fond in her old-maidish way, to any 
 rights in that direction, they need not scruple to part 
 with the photograph. 
 
 "There is your copy upstairs, Jane," she once more 
 took the initiative. 
 
 "That one is mine, Mr. Quaintance," she said to 
 Seager, "and I shall be pleased to let you have it, on 
 Miss Quaintance's account." 
 
 "You're very good," he assured her, and his more 
 pleasant tone did not fail to have its effect. 
 
 "Miss Quaintance is a sweet girl," she added. 
 "When you see her, will you please give her our love." 
 
 "Gladly," responded Seager, bowing with great out- 
 ward deference, and held the door for them while they 
 passed from the room. In the hall he expressed more 
 profuse thanks for their kindness and civility, finally
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 155 
 
 taking himself off under much more agreeable auspices 
 than those which had marked the earlier stages of the 
 interview. 
 
 "Gentlemen from America are sometimes so so 
 unusual," Miss Sophia commented forgivingly as she 
 closed the hall door behind him. "But it must be a 
 very rough place in parts, especially in the canned-beef 
 districts where all those dreadful exposures came from. 
 I think he has a good heart under his harsh exterior." 
 
 "Humph !" sniffed Miss Jane. "He may have, but he 
 certainly conceals it effectually at times. He threat- 
 ened us, actually threatened us, in our own house!" 
 
 "But it was on Miss Quaintance's account that he 
 was upset," her sister argued plaintively. She had not 
 the same fund of common-sense as Miss Jane, and was 
 somewhat handicapped in life by a leaning toward the 
 impractical and romantic. 
 
 "I hope he finds her," she concluded. "There seems 
 to have been some confusion as to her movements. 
 You had no reply from those people in San Francisco 
 when you wrote, Jane?" 
 
 "No, I had no reply," said Miss Jane, and returned 
 to her household tasks. The permanent guests with 
 whom the select pension was well filled left her little 
 time for outside interests. 
 
 Seager turned down the avenue again, his mind in a 
 state bordering on distraction. The photograph, at 
 which he took two or three surreptitious peeps as he 
 hurried toward his hotel, was that of the identical girl 
 he had encountered, with her motor car broken down, 
 on the road into Long Island City, some eight or nine 
 clays before. It was that enchanting creature whom 
 he must marry! And he had not had sense enough
 
 156 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 even to ask her name at the time ! What devastating 
 results might not that oversight yet produce? 
 
 He calculated that there were less than three weeks 
 left in which to comply with the stipulations contained 
 in Miles Quaintance's last will and testament, failing 
 whose fulfilment he would be in a most unenviable 
 plight, one alive with the gravest risks to himself. 
 Black Dirck had a long reach, and he himself might 
 not succeed in escaping that dangerous devil a second 
 time. He would be a pauper instead of a millionaire. 
 He would win no wife, and the thought of the girl he 
 had seen was a goad unendurable. He must hasten 
 back to New York at once, and take up the chase again 
 there. 
 
 What he wanted to know at the moment was how 
 much money he could command to that end. He had a 
 hundred francs in his pocket and some small change. 
 When he reached his room and had gathered together 
 his entire resources, there were not quite three hun- 
 dred francs all told. Sixty dollars to pay his hotel bill 
 and traveling expenses! The thing was absurd and 
 impossible. He must have more money, and that in- 
 stantly. It was Arendsen's fault that he found himself 
 stranded at a crisis so unforeseen. Had that niggardly 
 speculator put up the two thousand dollars required of 
 him, his unfortunate partner in the deal need not have 
 been left in any such hole. He must cable immedi- 
 ately. 
 
 He did so, stating that his quarry had left Paris, ask- 
 ing for a prompt remittance by wire in order that he 
 might follow her. And Arendsen had a note of the 
 date on which their venture must perforce lapse should 
 the terms of the will not then be fulfilled.
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 "That ought to fetch him, I think," he reflected 
 angrily, re-reading what he had written, and bade the 
 boy who answered his bell bring a brandy-and-soda as 
 soon as he should have despatched the message. 
 
 "Gad!" he said to himself after he had swallowed 
 that beverage and lit one of the expensive cigars with 
 which he had thoughtfully filled his case over night at 
 the Ritz, "What a note 1 If I had only known who she 
 was I'd have got my kiss after all. Think of all that 
 poor devil has missed! Think of all that's coming to 
 me ! Dominic, my boy, you're going to get your de- 
 serts at last. After all these ups and downs you'll take 
 the top notch you're entitled to. I'll be off the mo- 
 ment Arendsen sends me the price of my ticket. 
 
 "Let's see. It's two o'clock now. If he wires at 
 once I'll be able to touch the bank before closing time 
 to-day. If not, I'll have to wait till to-morrow. That'll 
 leave me a short enough few days after I land again to 
 fix things up in, but I'm a lightning artist when I see 
 a chance of drawing free-hand cheques for the rest of 
 my life. And furthermore I'd move heaven and earth 
 for a girl like that, quite apart from the money I'll get 
 with her." 
 
 His most immediate move, however, was in the direc- 
 tion of the buffet, where he swallowed a second brandy- 
 and-soda to soothe his overwrought nervous system. 
 By four o'clock he had two more to settle for, and no 
 cable had yet come. He cursed Arendsen bitterly, and 
 then made excuse for him. Black Dirck might have 
 been out of town. Two hours was a short enough time 
 in which to expect a reply. There were half a dozen 
 possible reasons for the delay. He would have his re- 
 mittance in good time for to-morrow morning, and as
 
 158 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 to the present, he might just as well put in his time 
 pleasantly as hang about there counting the minutes in 
 the company of a lot of snobs who took no interest in 
 his conversation. 
 
 He called a cab, crossed the Invalides bridge, and 
 sought inexpensive distraction in Montparnasse, with 
 the remains of his working capital in his pockets.
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 WHY A MILLIONAIRE SHOOK THE HOTEL DU PALAIS 
 
 "So that's his game is it!'' snapped Dirck Arendsen, 
 flinging down with contemptuous gesture the cable 
 message which he had found on his desk when he en- 
 tered the dingy Duane street office at half-past nine 
 one comfortless, drizzling morning. 
 
 "The girl's left Paris, and he must have more money. 
 'At once, too !" 
 
 He threw off his wet overcoat, sat down, and was 
 silent for some time, his face growing ever blacker. 
 
 "What a fool he is! What a chance he's throwing 
 away through his cursed folly! And my chance, too, 
 just as much as his. 
 
 "I thought but, no matter. Paris has been too 
 much for him. And now he imagines he's got me 
 roped fast to grub-stake him to a finish!" 
 
 His beard and moustache were bristling with rage. 
 His eyes blazed. 
 
 "I'll stake him ! I'll stake him so that he won't move 
 hand or foot when I've done with him. 
 
 "WulHWulf! Are you there, Wulf? Run round to 
 Rischoff's and tell them to send me a ticket for Paris. 
 Yes, Paris, first-class, lowest rate, by the very first boat. 
 Find out when I must be on board." 
 
 Twenty-four hours later he set out on Seager's track, 
 and for six long days at sea did his wrath ferment. 
 
 159
 
 i6o A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 Bottled up, it acquired a still more dangerous head. 
 He counted the hours while they slipped away in an 
 enforced idleness, and ground his teeth every time he 
 heard a clock tick. He knew to a minute when the 
 period of grace allowed by Miles Quaintance's will 
 would expire. 
 
 He was in no pleasant humor, therefore, when he 
 reached the Hotel du Palais, and it was perhaps just 
 as well for himself and Dominic Seager that the latter 
 was not at hand when the irate traveler arrived. 
 
 Arendsen left his cab at the kerb and asked snap- 
 pishly at the bureau for the number of his confed- 
 erate's room, with the intention of taking him un- 
 awares there, and then swore at the clerk on the 
 score of his slowness in furnishing the information re- 
 quired. It did not soothe him to learn that Seager 
 had recently been evicted from the hotel, and still owed 
 a lengthy score there. 
 
 "If Monsieur will be so good as to settle that," sug- 
 gested the clerk, turning the other's angry eagerness 
 to his own employers' advantage, "I shall be happy to 
 tell him how he may perhaps find his friend." 
 
 "And if not?" asked Arendsen, struck by the impu- 
 dence of the proposal. 
 
 The man shrugged his shoulders indifferently. 
 
 "If not," he returned, "it may be concluded that the 
 gentleman is no friend of Monsieur's." 
 
 Situated as he was, Arendsen had no option but to 
 accept his offer. 
 
 "Make out the receipt," he growled. "I'll pay. And 
 where shall I seek the debtor?" 
 
 The clerk took good care to have the transaction 
 completed to his own liking ere parting with news of
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 161 
 
 such consequence, and, having first counted carefully 
 the notes handed him, locked them away. 
 
 "Monsieur's friend has come here once or twice since 
 he left, to inquire for a cablegram he expects," he said 
 quietly. "It seems that, when it arrives, he will settle 
 his bill and then sue the Hotel du Palais for damages 
 on the ground of wrongous ejectment. He will doubt- 
 less, therefore, return, and, if Monsieur cares to await 
 him " 
 
 "But I may have to wait for days," Arendsen ob- 
 jected, his heart full of bitterness as he remembered 
 how few of these there were left before all those mil- 
 lions shall fall into the clutches of charity. 
 
 The clerk once more shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 "I know of no better way," he remarked. 
 
 Arendsen could cheerfully have strangled him at that 
 moment, but there were too many witnesses on the 
 spot, and he had to adopt a more peaceful policy. 
 
 "You may give me a room, if you have one avail- 
 able," he said abruptly, conscious that he had been out- 
 witted at all points by the astute Parisian, "and if this 
 this person should turn up, you'll find means to de- 
 tain him until you can get word to me." 
 
 "Gladly, Monsieur. That will not be difficult." 
 
 "Don't tell him I'm here, remember. Say that there 
 is some word for him, and send for me instantly." 
 
 "Monsieur's orders will be observed. Number fifty- 
 six. Jean-Marie ! Conduct Monsieur to number fifty- 
 six. Felix! Monsieur's baggage to the ascenseur." 
 
 When Arendsen got to his room he was almost on 
 the point of explosion. He had never doubted that he 
 would find Seager anxiously waiting him, but, instead, 
 he found him lacking all object on which to expend his
 
 1 62 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 concentrated rage and resentment It would be doubly 
 hard now to sit there wasting precious time and its 
 irredeemable opportunities. 
 
 But there was no other course to be thought of. It 
 would be idle to seek that prodigal throughout the city. 
 He must stick to his position with all the patience he 
 might, and trust that the wanderer would return be- 
 fore it should be too late. 
 
 "I'll see this thing through to the bitter end," said 
 Arendsen savagely, and, having donned the new suit 
 he had bought before leaving New York, and had his 
 hair and beard trimmed to a less piratical aspect, estab- 
 lished himself in an inconspicuous corner of the vesti- 
 bule with a cigar and a bundle of comic papers, out- 
 wardly at his ease but inwardly smouldering like a vol- 
 cano. 
 
 That day passed uneventfully, its monotony only 
 varied by meals for which he had no appetite, and, 
 when he went upstairs again at a late hour, his sullen 
 rage was still mounting steadily. Twelve more hours 
 had gone by, and by so much had his chances of a great 
 fortune diminished. The thought of that had become 
 an obsession with him. 
 
 On the following morning he rose unrefreshed, after 
 a sleepless night, and took up his station immediately 
 he had breakfasted; a needless precaution at that hour 
 since he was quite well aware that Seager's nocturnal 
 habits were not such as might conduce to early rising. 
 He meant to run no risk of missing his man, however, 
 and stayed there, a statue of vengeance, all that day and 
 the next and the next again, always at the same spot, 
 impervious to the curious glances bestowed on him. 
 
 It would have suited his mood much better to take
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 163 
 
 some more active measures, to scour the kennels from 
 gate to gate in search of the errant Seager. But, evem 
 as he had once told that bungler of his own and other, 
 men's chances in life, he could be very patient. It was 
 by virtue of such a quality, as well as others less ad- 
 mirable, that he had risen, or fallen if you prefer it, 
 from the status of an underpaid master in the mercan- 
 tile marine to that of a more or less wealthy dealer in 
 what he called hardware, while others would have de- 
 scribed his occupation as that of an illicit trader in 
 weapons and ammunitions of war. 
 
 It takes a man of cold courage and nerve to follow 
 any such dangerous calling successfully, and he had not 
 altogether failed in it. Few people had found it pleas- 
 ant to stand in his light, and one at least who had done 
 so had finished up in the North River, not very far from 
 Duane street, with a hole through his head which had 
 greatly puzzled the police who picked up the body. In 
 short, Dirck Arendscn was an absolutely unscrupulous 
 scoundrel, and it would surely go ill with Seager when 
 he should come within reach of his pursuer. On the 
 fifth afternoon of that fuming watcher's seemingly end- 
 less ambush, Seager walked carelessly into the vesti- 
 bule of the Hotel du Palais. 
 
 He did not see Arendsen, and Arendsen did not 
 spring from his seat at the sight of him. The big, 
 black-bearded man stayed still where he was, watching 
 his unconscious accomplice swagger up to the bureau, 
 smiling sardonically as he saw the clerk point toward 
 him in mute reply to Seager' s assertive inquiry. But 
 if he had hoped that the other would show any sign 
 of dismay over his presence there, he was doomed to 
 quick disappointment, for Seager gave him back a'
 
 164 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 look as black as his own when their eyes met, and bore 
 down on him like a thunder-cloud. 
 
 That sufferer from a supposed friend's distrust had 
 thought the situation out to a nicety, and the conclu- 
 sion to which he had come since Arendsen had not re- 
 plied to his urgent message was now proved correct. 
 It was in the expectation of seeing Black Dirck in 
 Paris that he had eked out a wretched existence of 
 kte, rather than take any desperate steps toward a 
 return to New York. He felt hot against the other for 
 having left him in such sorry plight, and his opening 
 speech quite took the wind out of Arendsen's sails. 
 
 "Curse you !" he began in a low, tense tone as he 
 threw himself into a chair alongside his treacherous 
 ally, while the clerk looked on half relieved and half 
 disappointed that there had been no such disturbance 
 as promised. 
 
 "Curse you, Arendsen ! Why didn't you reply to my 
 wire? You've let me rot in a nice hole here, and the 
 girl's in New York. There's only a week of the year 
 left now, and we may be too late after all, owing to 
 your infernal folly. What was the use of slinking over 
 here after me? I gave you the straight tip, but you're 
 such a crook that you couldn't take it for that, I sup- 
 pose. You're robbing me, that's what you're doing, and 
 cutting off your nose to spite your damned ugly face." 
 
 Arendsen eyed him evilly, but heard him out in 
 silence, too much taken aback by his unfeigned 
 belief that the grievance was all on his side to break in. 
 
 "What have you done with all the money I gave 
 you?" he hissed through set teeth as the other con- 
 cluded, but Seager glared all the more fiercely at him 
 and renewed his complaint.
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 165 
 
 "Curse you and the money you gave me ! Can't you 
 get it into your thick skull that it's millions we're after. 
 Is this any time to haggle about a handful of small 
 change ! I tell you, Arendsen, if we fall down now I'll 
 hold you responsible. I let you in on the ground floor, 
 and first thing I know you go back on me, at the most 
 critical moment. Why didn't you cable me the price of 
 a passage? Would that have cost you a cent more 
 than coming across? What good have you done by 
 coming? Answer me that, if you can." 
 
 He was so thoroughly convinced of the correctness 
 of his own viewpoint that Arendsen was somewhat 
 staggered. It was impossible to controvert his argu- 
 ments to the effect that distrust of his honesty and mo- 
 tives had cost them days irredeemable. And Seager's 
 obvious belief in his own blamelessness had also dis- 
 concerted him. A thousand dollars was certainly a 
 small sum in comparison with the prize they aspired to. 
 It was no time for profitless dispute. Arendsen recog- 
 nized that fact and acted on it, sinking all his own pent 
 up animosity in favor of a final effort toward success. 
 
 "Tell me what you found out about the girl," he or- 
 dered briefly. 
 
 "Buy me a brandy-and-soda first," Seager snapped. 
 "I've been living on husks since my money went, 
 and that was a good many days ago though I don't 
 suppose you care about that. You must give me a 
 square deal from now onwards, Arendsen, and 
 don't you forget, my friend, that I'm king-pin in this 
 game. You needn't suppose that you can treat me like 
 a dog because you've got a few dollars." 
 
 Arendsen patiently complied with his requirement, 
 and Seager, having first drunk off the liquor, 'told him
 
 1 66 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 in few words what he had been able to learn from the 
 two old maids in the Avenue Marceau. 
 
 "And now comes the sore point," he said indignantly, 
 "the point where you ought to have backed me up to 
 your last penny. The girl's in New York, as I told 
 you, whatever she's doing there. And I met her, with- 
 out knowing who she was, the night before I called on 
 you in Duane street." 
 
 Arendsen stared at him half incredulously. 
 
 "No, I'm not making any mistake. I know what I'm 
 talking about. I spent half an hour in her company 
 and she'll know me again, too, I think. 
 
 "I met her on my way in to Manhattan from Long 
 Beach. I went to stop when I landed from Africa 
 in case you should run across me before I had made 
 up my mind " 
 
 "While you were trying the San Francisco lawyers 
 for money, so that you might leave me out," Arendsen 
 corrected him, but he took no notice. 
 
 "She was alone in a runabout which had broken 
 down, late at night too, and I helped her to start it 
 again. I'd swear to her anywhere, and one of those 
 Winters women gave me her photograph. Look at 
 her. Don't you think I'd remember a face like that? 
 I tell you, Arendsen, I'll owe you the grudge of my life 
 if I miss this marriage and all it means, through you. 
 And I'll make a point of paying it too." 
 
 "I'll see that you pay what you owe me," said Arend- 
 sen with returning ill humor. He had grown gradu- 
 ally calmer as Seager became excited, but the other's 
 insistence on that particular point was beginning to 
 stir his temper again. He glanced contemptuously at 
 the photograph offere'd for his inspection. Then he
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 167 
 
 started forward in his arm-chair with a quick exclama- 
 tion: 
 
 "Will you swear that this is the girl?" he demanded 
 eagerly. 
 
 "I've told you already I'll swear to her anywhere. 
 There aren't so many of that brand about that I'd ever 
 make a mistake as to her. That's the girl I met in the 
 motor, Miles Quaintance's adopted daughter, and my 
 future wife. And she's worth ten millions to us when 
 we find her." 
 
 Arendsen's anger had all evaporated. He sat back 
 and slapped his knee, chuckling in his beard, eyes still 
 fixed on the photograph, and, when he at length caught 
 Seager's glance of incensed astonishment, that seemed 
 but to add to his mirth. 
 
 "What the devil's the matter with you?" asked that 
 irate conspirator with a most acid inflection. 
 
 "There's nothing the matter with me," answered 
 Wrendsen. "Not with me, anyway. It's you that's on 
 the wrong scent, Dominic, my boy, and what I'm here 
 for is to put you right." 
 
 "Isn't that the girl?" Seager questioned explosively. 
 "Are you going to tell me that you know her better, 
 than I do? You may as well save your breath." 
 
 "I'm going to tell you," returned his companion im- 
 pressively, "that I know better than you where she is. 
 She's in Paris. She came across from New York in the 
 same steamer with me." 
 
 He gazed triumphantly at the other, and Seager's 
 countenance slowly assumed a similar geniality as he 
 grasped gradually, by degrees, the import of that as- 
 tonishing statement. 
 
 "She came over in the same steamer with you !" he
 
 1 68 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 repeated as if scarcely able to credit such glad intelli- 
 gence. 
 
 "And she traveled in the same train from Havre," 
 continued Arendsen. "I saw her get out at the Gare 
 St. Lazare. Tell me now whether I'd have done bet- 
 ter to stay in New York." 
 
 "But you didn't know," Seager argued. "It was 
 pure chance. A most marvellous piece of luck !" 
 
 He said no more for a moment, revolving it in his 
 mind. 
 
 "Did you find out her destination? Was she alone?" 
 he demanded at length, and Arendsen shook his head, 
 less elated. 
 
 "I spent my time in the smoking room," he replied. 
 "She was traveling as Miss Lorraine, according to the 
 passenger list, and had a maid with her. That's all I 
 can tell you." 
 
 "Well, we must find her at once, wherever she is," 
 Seager cried, and sprang to his feet. "Come on. 
 There's no use of throwing away our time here. Paris 
 is a big place, and we can't afford to make any more 
 mistakes now." 
 
 "Sit down," cried Arendsen sharply. "We must go 
 to work with some method if we want any result. How 
 are we going to set about it ? You know this town bet- 
 ter than I do, but I think " 
 
 "I must have some money to start with," Seager 
 broke in. "I owe a bill here, and they've got my bag- 
 gage all stowed away in one of their cellars. It was a 
 dirty trick, Arendsen, to leave me rotting here with- 
 out a word." 
 
 "I was a good deal upset by your message," said 
 Arendsen smoothly, "or I'd have wired you that I
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 169 
 
 was coming. I've paid your bill so you see that I al- 
 ways meant well by you and here's fifty francs to go 
 on with." 
 
 Seager glared at him. 
 
 "Cut that out," he commanded. "I'm not a school- 
 boy asking for pocket-money. I'll take a thousand to 
 start with, and let you know when I need more. 
 
 "Gar9on! Cognac and English soda. Hurry, we 
 'don't want to sit here all day. 
 
 "Tell you what we'll do first, Arendsen. We'll call 
 at that boarding house where she stayed when she was 
 here before. Bet you they'll know where we can find 
 her. But before that we'll change our hotel. And I'll 
 just take this opportunity of telling that pie-faced pup 
 in the office what I think of him. Or no, I'll get hold 
 of the manager. He'll make it hot enough for the clerk 
 when I tell him why this millionaire's going to shake 
 the Hotel du Palais."
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 THE MISSES WINTERS HEAR MORE ABOUT MILES 
 QUAINTANCE'S WILL 
 
 Neither Fanchette nor her young mistress was well 
 acquainted with those parts of Paris where dwell such 
 as would live unnoticed, and, when they reached the 
 great city, in the same train by which Dirck Arendsen 
 traveled, they were very much at a loss to know where 
 to turn for safe shelter. 
 
 Situated as they were, it did not suit their purpose to 
 register at an hotel, and, since to elude observation by 
 any of Monsieur's people was their chief object, and 
 his usual haunts lay well south of the Rue St. Lazare, 
 they turned north to seek out some private lodging. 
 Fanchette had bethought herself of a countrywoman 
 and gossip of hers who had, in years gone by, let rooms 
 in the Rue des Trois Freres, and thither they made 
 their way. 
 
 The Street of the Three Brothers did not prove at 
 all an attractive one, and it turned out, moreover, that 
 Fanchette's friend had gone back to La Roche-Segur, 
 having disposed of her modest maison meublee to an up- 
 to-date Parisian. But that shrewd dame showed them 
 so much attention as well as the rooms she had vacant 
 that, for lack of other resort, they resolved to remain 
 there meantime. Fanchette went down stairs again 
 to rate the ill-tempered concierge of the house whose 
 
 170
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 171 
 
 rough and ready method of handling hat-boxes did not 
 meet with her approval, while the girl threw herself 
 disconsolately into a chair beside the window of her 
 little chamber and looked out with weary eyes at the 
 dull, dingy street. 
 
 What she saw and heard there was all so different 
 from the clean, sweet solitude of the quiet bungalow 
 on Peconic Bay that she could by no means shake off 
 the dejection induced by the contrast. And neither 
 was this the Paris which she had known, that bright, 
 sunny vista of avenues and open spaces where one 
 might wander at will and without fear of any such 
 enemy as she was seeking concealment from now. 
 
 Circumstances had changed very sadly for her since 
 she had ceased to be an inmate of the modest pension 
 on the Avenue Marceau, since that fateful day on which 
 she had kissed the two old maids there good-bye, gone 
 out into an unknown world to shape her own destiny 
 to her own ideas. And it had cost her almost more 
 than she could well count to shape it to such futile 
 end that she was now a denizen of the Rue des Trois 
 Freres, alone and friendless save for Fanchette! 
 
 Withal, however, she could not find it in her to re- 
 pent herself of that most impulsive step. She had done 
 all she could to extricate herself from the cruel tangle 
 in which fate had enmeshed her. Some day, perhaps, 
 she would be free, and, while she lived, she would fight 
 for her freedom. She was a soldier's daughter, and for 
 her there could be no surrender. That brave thought 
 sufficed to comfort her, and, when Fanchette once 
 more appeared, she put all doubts behind her, reso- 
 lutely assumed an outward indifference to her sur- 
 roundings which went far to encourage her companion.
 
 I 7 2 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 That afternoon they spent indoors, but next day 
 they drove to the bank in which she had been forced 
 to leave such funds as had been lying there on the 
 occasion of her hurried flight from France, and which 
 she had not since felt safe to send for, lest in doing so 
 she should afford her enemy clue to her whereabouts. 
 It was no great amount, not much more than ten thou- 
 sand francs, accumulated from the liberal allowance 
 Miles Quaiutance had made her during her sojourn in 
 Europe, but it was a comfort to have it once more in 
 her own possession. All there was left of the sum ob- 
 tained by the sale of her car would not have lasted them 
 long, whereas, with this supplement, it would be pos- 
 sible to carry out her intention of earning her further 
 livelihood in some far part of the world. Other girls 
 were doing that why not she ? 
 
 She fancied that the clerk who attended her in the 
 bank had shown more interest in her than was alto- 
 gether necessary, but he asked no needless questions 
 as she feared he might, and, when she returned to Fan- 
 chette who was anxiously awaiting her in a closed cab 
 at the sidewalk, it was with the gratifying announce- 
 ment that she had accomplished the object of their long 
 voyage from New York. 
 
 "Yes, everything went quite smoothly," she told that 
 apprehensive questioner. "They paid my cheque with- 
 out the slightest hesitation, and all will go well now, 
 Fanchette. To-morrow, I think, we may leave for 
 London." 
 
 "Why not to-night, ma'mselle?" Fanchette asked 
 eagerly. "Delay may bring danger, and Monsieur is 
 powerful in Paris, even from a great distance." 
 
 "To-night, then, if you will," the girl agreed readily.
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 173 
 
 When they reached the Rue des Trois Freres, how- 
 ever, Andre, the concierge, came forward, chuckling 
 causelessly, to tell them that there was a visitor wait- 
 ing them. Their irrepressible start of dismay did not 
 escape his sharp eyes, and he was still chuckling when 
 he got back to his lair underneath the stairs they were 
 tremulously ascending. 
 
 "Eh, bien, Mdlle. Fanchette!" said he to himself in a 
 tone of great satisfaction. "It is now that you must 
 feel sorry you spoke so rudely to Andre yesterday. 
 That old good-for-nothing has still a tooth in his head, 
 and can bite with it, Mdlle. Fanchette." 
 
 They entered their little parlor, in trepidation to find 
 a stranger installed there, a man of coldly official as- 
 pect, with something of the professional ferret about 
 him, who turned out to be an agent de surete from the 
 Prefecture on the Quai des Orfevres. 
 
 He explained his mission, politely enough but with 
 obvious indifference. The declaration of identity made 
 by Mdlle. Lorraine on entering the country was be- 
 lieved to be a misleading one. The Chief of Police di- 
 rected that she and the person described as Fanchette 
 Lefevre should remain in their present quarters and un- 
 der surveillance pending some inquiry by the depart- 
 ment into mademoiselle's antecedents. 
 
 "But this is an outrage!" the girl exclaimed. "The 
 Chief of Police is apparently not aware that I'm an 
 American." 
 
 The plain-clothes policeman shrugged his shoulders. 
 He did not know, and did not greatly care. His part 
 was solely that of a messenger. 
 
 "Mademoiselle is allowed every liberty of move- 
 ment," he suggested smoothly, "except as regards
 
 174 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 leaving Paris. It might be that application to the 
 American Consul would serve to put matters right for 
 her." 
 
 She shook her head vexedly, knowing that such re- 
 course had been cut off by her own conduct. And the 
 man did not fail to observe the involuntary action, from 
 which he drew his own inference. He rose to go. 
 
 "Mademoiselle will be closely watched," he warned 
 her. "It will therefore be well to comply carefully with 
 the requirements of the authorities." 
 
 "But for how long?" she asked, in desperation. 
 
 "Until further notice. Word will be sent as soon as 
 the surveillance can safely be discontinued." 
 
 The two women looked at each other, aghast, as his 
 footsteps sounded more faintly and ceased. Fanchette 
 crept across to a window, and, peering therefrom, saw 
 him stop on the opposite pavement to exchange a few 
 words with a shabby-looking nondescript lounging in a 
 low doorway there. Both looked up in her direction, 
 and, in spite of the muslin screen which sheltered her 
 from their gaze, she shrank back, crossing herself. The 
 strange prescience of the Quai des Orfevres frightened 
 her, as it has frightened many of a more educated in- 
 telligence. 
 
 "We may almost give up the struggle, it seems, 
 Fanchette," said the girl after a long interval, during 
 which she had been counting every remaining chance. 
 Her eyes were heavy, her tone was one of hopeless dis- 
 couragement. "To carry it on now would be to court 
 needless scandal, and, after all we have sacrificed to 
 escape that, it would be foolish as well as futile to incur 
 it at the finish. There's nothing for it but to await
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 175 
 
 Monsieur's next move, and meantime we must make 
 the time pass as best we can. 
 
 "We have nothing to fear from the police," she con- 
 tinued, to soothe her maid's very evident agitation,, 
 "while we don't attempt to evade them. They will not 
 molest us, Fanchette. We are free to come and go as 
 we please, in Paris. This is no more than Monsieur's 
 method of detaining us until he conies." 
 
 Fanchette nodded her comprehension, but was not 
 comforted. She was a peasant woman of the Vendee, 
 where Monsieur too had been born. Her humble home 
 had lain under the swart shadow of his father's great 
 fortalice at La Roche-Segur, which was his now. 
 Something of the old feudal awe oppressed her in his 
 presence, and she had an absurd belief in the scope of 
 his powers. It had required no common courage on 
 her part to aid the girl against him, and now it ter- 
 rified her to anticipate his coming. 
 
 She put a brave face on it, none the less, for the 
 girl's sake, and they two kept each other thus in coun- 
 tenance during the dreary days that ensued. They 
 did not venture outdoors again for some time, and had 
 no further visitors, so that they were not profitable 
 to the avaricious Andre, ensconced in his den at the 
 stair-foot, always on the lookout for pourboires. But 
 he bided his time, and grumbled, always grumbled. 
 
 "There will be more of interest presently," he told 
 himself each time he carried up to Fanchette the mar- 
 keting which madame the proprietrix had done for her, 
 and knocked, and had the door shut sharply in his face 
 as soon as he had accomplished his errand. Fanchette 
 did not like Andre either, and was too honest to at- 
 tempt petty diplomacy.
 
 176 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 "There will be more of interest presently. Such an 
 one as Ma'mselle does not live in the Rue des Trois 
 Freres, and with a detective at the door, for nothing. 
 She is young, and beautiful! And genteel too, not 
 like those others! But as for her femme-de-chambre 
 Bah!" 
 
 And Andre snapped his fingers derisively, screwing 
 his snub nose into still uglier shape. 
 
 The days passed somehow, and nothing disturbed 
 their monotony. The shabby-looking nondescript kept 
 careful watch, but Fanchette had become accustomed 
 to his company and even plucked up courage to sug- 
 gest that the girl and she might as well go out and get 
 some fresh air, if only for health's sake. 
 
 "We'll go down to the Avenue Marceau this after- 
 noon, if you like," her mistress assented. "There's 
 nothing to be gained now by hiding here, and it will 
 do us no harm to have a chat with the two old ladies. 
 They will not gossip about our affairs." 
 
 That afternoon, therefore, they took the Metropoli- 
 tain to the Place de 1'Etoile and walked down to the 
 Misses Winters' select pension, where they were re- 
 ceived with a warmth of welcome which did them both 
 good. It was inspiriting to find that they had at least 
 two friends in the teeming city, where, they had been 
 prone to think of late, they were pent in among mys- 
 terious enemies. And even the stiffly furnished draw- 
 ing-room seemed homelike and familiar after the Rue 
 des Trois Freres. 
 
 "And we have news for you, my dear," Miss Jane 
 said, while Miss Sophia, on hospitable thoughts intent, 
 bustled about a tiny tea-table set near the window.
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 "We have great news for you, if you have not already 
 heard it, about your cousin ?" 
 
 She beamed inquiringly upon the girl, who answered, 
 with a sudden sinking of the heart which left her lips 
 pale, 
 
 "I have heard nothing of him." 
 
 "He was here only a few days ago," said Miss Sophia, 
 not to be outdone of opportunity. 
 
 "And very much upset he was to find that you had 
 left us," said Miss Jane. 
 
 Fanchette sniffed, and her mistress turned troubled 
 eyes from one to another of the two sisters, who were 
 regarding her with a triumphant smile, imagining in 
 their kind hearts that she could not but be delighted 
 to hear of her new-found relative. 
 
 "He had come all the way from San Francisco in 
 search of you," resumed Miss Sophia, making that mis- 
 statement from a memory never to be trusted. 
 
 "And he declared that you had not gone there when 
 you left Paris," Miss Jane added a little doubtfully, not 
 wishing to display an undue curiosity and yet desirous 
 that she should be able to refute such a misrepresenta- 
 tion of fact. 
 
 The girl had not been very certain how much it 
 might be wise to tell them, but this unexpected infor- 
 mation decided her. It did not seem fair that her mo- 
 tives should be so liable to misconstruction, and she 
 almost regretted now that she had not given them her 
 confidence from the beginning. But she had been afraid 
 that Miss Sophia's garrulous simplicity might have be- 
 trayed her, no matter how unwittingly, and it would 
 have been too invidious to beg Miss Jane to keep a 
 secret from her sister.
 
 1 78 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 "He was quite right," she answered quickly, now that 
 she had made up her mind to clear herself in their eyes. 
 "I didn't go to San Francisco after all. And I must 
 tell you why. I hope you won't think I did wrong, be- 
 cause I couldn't help myself." 
 
 "My dear," Miss Jane assured her tenderly, "I'm 
 sure that you would not do anything but what was right 
 and proper. I said so to Sophia, after your cousin 
 called. But go on." 
 
 "It was because of him I had to leave you," the girl 
 began. "I must explain, in the first place, that he is 
 not my cousin except by courtesy. 
 
 "You see," she went on while the sisters listened in 
 grave surprise, "Mr. Miles Quaintance had no family. 
 He was not married. My father was Lieutenant Gen- 
 eral Lorraine, and, when he died in San Francisco, not 
 many months after my mother, Mr. Quaintance 
 adopted me. I was an infant then. 
 
 "He always called me Elinor, after some old sweet- 
 heart of his. I didn't know my own name till the day 
 before I left for Europe, when he told me my history 
 and what I owed him although I had had no voice in 
 the matter." 
 
 "He wrote of you as Elinor," said Miss Sophia. 
 "Elinor Quaintance. I wonder who she married." 
 
 Her mind was running on the dead man's dead ro- 
 mance or tragedy. Her face expressed intensest in- 
 terest. 
 
 "I don't know," the girl rejoined, "but he believed 
 that he had been bitterly wronged. He was a strange 
 man in many ways, very reserved and often moody, al- 
 ways most arbitrary. I am indebted to him for all I
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 179 
 
 ever had, and yet I had no love for him. I was glad 
 to leave his house to come here." 
 
 "Oh, my dear!" cried Miss Jane, much distressed. 
 
 "It may be wrong, but one can't help one's feel- 
 ings, and it's best to be quite honest about it. Had I 
 had any choice, I would have owed him nothing. No 
 man can buy affection. He cannot buy another's flesh 
 and blood, nor can he sell either of these. Mr. Quaint- 
 ance believed he had bought me. He would have sold 
 me too. Can you blame me if I feel barely grateful to 
 him?" 
 
 She paused, half wishful of some assurance that she 
 was not so blameworthy as she had sometimes deemed 
 herself in spite of her strong innate sense of right and 
 wrong, but the problem involved was all too compli- 
 cated yet for the sisters, whose lives had always run in 
 straight, well-charted channels. 
 
 "When Mr. Ouaintance died," she once more went 
 on, "his lawyers sent me a long letter he had written 
 me. I was a very cruel letter and told me, in so many 
 words, that he had already disposed of my future. I 
 was to marry his brother's son, a man I had never 
 heard of before and whom he had never seen. And 
 there was a penalty attached, which he no doubt 
 thought too dreadful to be incurred by either of us. 
 
 "He had left a large estate, some millions, I think, 
 which would be awarded us on the sole condition that 
 we were married within a year of his death. Failing 1 
 which, we would both be left penniless. 
 
 "In other words, he had made up his mind to present 
 me, his chattel, to an unknown man, and to pay him 
 handsomely for accepting me. Would any girl have 
 submitted to such unspeakable degradation!"
 
 180 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 She was breathing quickly, her eyes aglow with a 
 wounded pride. 
 
 "I was powerless to alter the past, and I felt my posi- 
 tion so keenly then that I didn't dare to ask your ad- 
 vice, in case you should seek to influence me against 
 the decision I came to as soon as I had read the letter 
 through. Mr. Ouaintance had written his nephew to 
 the same effect, and I was dreadfully afraid he might 
 seek me out at once. I was quite determined that, 
 under no circumstances, would I consent to any such 
 monstrous arrangement, and, although I was little 
 more than a school-girl then, I felt that starvation 
 would be far easier and less painful than " 
 
 "You were quite right, my dear," Miss Jane com- 
 mented, as she stopped at a loss for words in which 
 to express the alternative decently. That spinster had 
 all the respect of the shabby-genteel for wealth and po- 
 sition, but under her well-worn, old-fashioned bodice 
 beat the heart of a plain-thinking, old-fashioned woman 
 who did not believe that womanhood should be bar- 
 tered for wealth and position, or that a harlot's bread 
 could be aught but bitter. 
 
 "You were quite right, my dear, and I wish you 
 had trusted us/' 
 
 The girl bowed her head, in regret that was much 
 more poignant than her friends could understand while 
 there was still untold what might well prove the worst 
 half of her misfortunes. And as to that half she could 
 not even now take them fully into her confidence. 
 
 "I wish I had, dear Miss Jane/' she said humbly. 
 "But I ran away instead. I went to New York, and 
 stopped there instead of crossing to San Francisco. I 
 had not posted the letter you wrote telling Mr. Quaint-
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 181 
 
 ance's lawyers that I was leaving you. I didn't intend 
 to have anything more to do with them, and my onljr 
 ambition was to keep out of the nephew's way. But, 
 at the last moment, I I was so hurried that I had to 
 leave some of my money in the bank here, and Fan- 
 chette and I have come over to see about that." 
 
 Silence followed her somewhat abrupt conclusion, 
 and she sat, with anxious eyes, awaiting their verdict 
 on her behavior. Fanchette was respectfully seated 
 behind her, one of Miss Sophia's most cherished after- 
 noon-teacups in her trembling, work-worn hands. Miss 
 Jane was stiffly erect in her straight-backed chair, Miss 
 Sophia gazing abstractedly out of the window, her 
 mind occupied not with the past but with future possi- 
 bilities. And neither of them was inclined to misjudge 
 the girl. 
 
 "Then you don't wish to meet this young man at 
 all," said Miss Jane decisively. "He's been here two 
 or three times to find out whether you've called. He 
 told us that you were in Paris again although we were 
 scarcely inclined to believe him at first." 
 
 "How can he know that!" cried the girl in renewed 
 alarm. "Oh, I hope you won't tell him a word about 
 me, Miss Jane, Miss Sophia. Please promise me that." 
 
 "You may depend upon us, my dear," the sisters as- 
 sured her in chorus. 
 
 "And, to tell you the truth," Miss Jane added witfi 
 strong conviction, "he isn't altogether a a nice young 
 man." 
 
 "Not by any means a nice young man," Miss Sophia 
 affirmed, recollecting how Seager had glared at her in 
 the course of their first interview. 
 
 "And you needn't give us any address," her sister
 
 182 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 suggested. "If he should call again, as he said he 
 would, we shall simply inform him that we don't know 
 where you are, and beg him to discontinue his visits." 
 
 "There's a shabby-looking person outside staring up 
 at the house at this moment," said Miss Sophia from 
 her window seat, a tremor in her thin voice. "I hope 
 he hasn't employed a private detective to trace you 
 although, to be sure, he looked just the sort of gentle- 
 man who would do that." 
 
 "Stuff and nonsense !" her sister retorted sharply. 
 "Sophia, you read far too many novels. People don't 
 do that sort of thing in real life." 
 
 "The man's there, all the same," Miss Sophia pro- 
 tested, and their guest rose, inwardly much embar- 
 rassed. 
 
 "I think I'll go now," she said anxiously, unwilling 
 to excite further conjecture while she herself knew, 
 only too well, who her unpleasant attendant was. 
 
 "Thank you so much for all your kindness and and 
 encouragement. I wish I could have told you " 
 
 "My dear," Miss Jane broke in, kissing her with 
 great tenderness, "come to us when you can, and tell 
 us what you will. We are two poor old women, not 
 very able, perhaps, to advise you. But you may be 
 sure that we'll never advise you otherwise than as your 
 own mother would. Had we believed that there's 
 nothing in this world of more worth than money, we 
 need not have been keeping a boarding house to-day. 
 Be brave ! You'll see your way by degrees, and if we 
 can help you in any manner, we will, most gladly." 
 
 "Poor thing!" Miss Sophia sighed soulfully as she 
 returned to her favorite post at the window, to watch 
 the two disappear down trie avenue faithfully followed
 
 'A MILLION A MINUTE 183 
 
 by the lounger she had observed, a fact which she did 
 not fail to communicate argumentatively to her sister. 
 "Poor thing! I hope she'll be happy. She's so strong, 
 Jane. Not many girls would have withstood the temp- 
 tation of millions, I fear and the strong suffer most." 
 
 "I'm surprised at you, Sophia," Miss Jane returned, 
 still severely. "No right-minded girl would have acted 
 otherwise than she has done, and I don't know what 
 sort of man Mr. Miles Quaintance could have been to 
 plan such a " 
 
 "Then all I can say, Jane, is," Sophia interpolated, 
 "that there are a good many wrong-minded girls now- 
 adays." 
 
 Miss Jane was on the point of reprehending her for 
 such a censorious statement when she was balked in 
 that praiseworthy purpose by an exclamation of dis- 
 may from her younger sister. 
 
 "Dear me! What is it now, Sophia?" she asked ag- 
 grievedly. 
 
 "Oh, how unfortunate! Jane, they've just met that 
 gentleman with the black beard who was with Mr. 
 Quaintance last time he called and he's stopped them. 
 and, well I declare! if they haven't all three gone 
 on together. 
 
 "Jane, I don't see how she can help herself now. 
 He'll take her straight to her cousin."
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 PLAISIR D'AMOUR NE DURE QU'UN MOMENT 
 
 But, while events were thus conspiring against the 
 rightful heirs to Miles Quaintance's millions, the dead 
 man's legitimate nephew, indifferent as ever to his un- 
 cle's wishes and the reward of compliance with them, 
 had not been idle in the pursuit of his own expensive 
 ambition. 
 
 No sooner had Stephen Quaintance seen the girl 
 whom he knew only as Dagmar sail from New York 
 than he determined to follow her. Cornoyer and he to- 
 gether crossed by the first available steamer. They 
 landed at Cherbourg and came on to Paris in haste by 
 train. 
 
 "You must come to my house to stop," said Cor- 
 noyer affectionately, as the fast express sped through 
 Clichy-Levallois on its way to St. Lazare. "My mother 
 will be much pleased to see you there." 
 
 "Sorry old chap," said Quaintance, "but I've got 
 another engagement. You're very kind, and I'd like 
 nothing better, but some other time." 
 
 Cornoyer's face expressed the extreme of dejection, 
 but he said no more at the moment so much had he 
 learned of Quaintance's character and presently they 
 rolled into the busy terminus. 
 
 "Votta la p'tite maman!" cried the volatile French- 
 man exuberantly, and, bursting forth ere the train had 
 
 184
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 185 
 
 well slowed down, threw his arms about a fashionably 
 dressed matron who might almost have passed for his 
 sister. She returned his embrace with equal fervor, 
 quite disregarding the general public which was taking 
 an unaffected interest in the distinguished-looking 
 young man with whom the handsome grande dame 
 seemed to be on such intimate terms. Then she held 
 him at arm's length to see what he looked like after his 
 prolonged absence in foreign parts, and Cornoyer beck- 
 oned Quaintance forward. 
 
 "There is here a Yank in the train who is my friend," 
 he cried ecstatically, "and you must make him come 
 home with us. 
 
 "This is my little old mamma," he remarked to 
 Quaintance, hat in hand before his mother. "She 
 speaks no English like me, but she is the goods." And, 
 leaving the two together, he turned to where a tall 
 footman in quietly sumptuous livery was occupied in 
 extracting their light baggage from the compartment, 
 and who received him with an irrepressible grin. 
 
 "Hole, Gaston. I'm glad to see you and Paris again. 
 How do we drive? Omnibus or barouche? Barouche, 
 eh? And the baggage by cab? This gentleman's 
 also." 
 
 Quaintance was protesting vehemently to Madame 
 Cornoyer that he could not avail himself of such hos- 
 pitality, but quite in vain until that question was settled 
 for them by a most unlooked-for arbiter. O'Ferral 
 came quietly forward, and at sight of him Cornoyer 
 was moved to the utmost excess of rapture while 
 Madame Cornoyer welcomed him warmly as an old 
 friend. Quaintance was inwardly overjoyed to see him, 
 but shook hands stolidly, after the fashion of the An-
 
 i86 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 glo-Saxon. And then the argument was renewed till 
 O'Ferral informed them that he had already made all 
 arrangements for the newcomer's accommodation. 
 (Whereupon Cornoyer expressed grave dissatisfaction 
 with him and his high-handed methods, but, having 
 made careful record of his address, drove off, content, 
 with his mother. 
 
 "What in creation are you doing here?" Quaintance 
 asked, once more wringing his friend's hand as they 
 went forward to claim his belongings. "You're the 
 most unexpected sort of fellow I ever came across ! 
 How did you know I'd be here to-day? Was it chance 
 that brought you along in the nick of time, or " 
 
 "The simplest thing in the world," O'Ferral ex- 
 plained. "Our Paris edition publishes a list of passen- 
 gers leaving New York for these parts. So that I 
 knew several days ago when and where I might look 
 for you. What's brought you over here, eh?" 
 
 "It's a good thing I didn't come on in my car from 
 Cherbourg," said Quaintance. "I should have, if I 
 hadn't been in a bit of a hurry. You haven't seen or 
 heard anything of of that girl of mine on this side, 
 have you?" 
 
 "Not a sign of her. Is she here?" 
 
 "She sailed the day before I did," Quaintance as- 
 serted, and, having at length secured his baggage and 
 set out for the Rue St. Roch, where O'Ferral had his 
 quarters, he plunged into a full and true account of his 
 surprising adventures in that connection since he had 
 last seen the correspondent. He had not yet concluded 
 when they reached the rooms on which his friend had 
 taken an option for him, and no more was said while 
 his trunks were being conveyed to the snug entresol
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 187 
 
 suite adjoining O'Ferral's own apartment, into which 
 they presently repaired, and Quaintance resumed. 
 
 "I think she intended to give me the slip. It was 
 by the purest chance I hit the right trail. I went down 
 to the dock to see Cornoyer off, but he was late, as 
 usual. The boat sailed just as we got there, and the 
 girl was on board. I saw her. She came on deck as it 
 started." 
 
 "Sure it was she?" 
 
 "I'll stake my oath on that. I'd know her in the 
 dark." 
 
 "There's the list of arrivals for ten days past." O'Fer- 
 ral proffered him a paper and pointed out a long col- 
 umn of names, which Quaintance fell to perusing with 
 silent avidity. 
 
 "Might be any one of a dozen who have 'and maid' 
 attached to their names," he remarked doubtfully, "but 
 I'll tell you who I think she must be. Miss Lorraine. 
 Miss Lorraine and maid. Mrs. Smith's her maid, I'll 
 be bound and she's Dagmar Lorraine. Yes, that's it, 
 sure. Dagmar Lorraine." 
 
 He lingered over the name as though it tickled his 
 ears, and O'Ferral, confirmed bachelor, smiled to him- 
 self. 
 
 "Then the next thing to do," he opined, "is to find 
 Miss Dagmar Lorraine, who is probably someone else 
 altogether. You go too fast, Steve. Brake down a 
 little till you're more certain of your premises. It 
 won't do, you know, to go butting in on some entire 
 stranger with no better introduction than some other 
 stranger's bracelet. Don't give way to every rash im- 
 pulse." 
 
 Quaintance threw the paper at him and helped him-
 
 i88 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 self to a drink. He was in good spirits again, and 
 greatly delighted to have such a comrade as the cor- 
 respondent once more at his elbow. 
 
 "Confound it !" he cried. "If I hadn't stifled my im- 
 pulses so successfully, I wouldn't be in any such mud- 
 dle now. I kept on telling myself to go slow all the 
 time, and you see the result. I get left." 
 
 "Well, we'll see what we can do," cried O'Ferral. 
 "Where are we going to dine ? I'm free for this even- 
 ing. To-morrow we're booked to Cornoyer, and, after 
 that, as fate decides. I hope to be here for a few days 
 longer, since you've turned up, but I may have to start 
 for somewhere else at a moment's notice." 
 
 "Let's dine at the Anglais," Quaintance suggested, 
 "and go on to a theatre. I'm hungry for light and life 
 again. The sea made me feel as if I were back in Af- 
 rica." 
 
 They changed their clothes and carried out that pro- 
 gramme, but, among the many pretty women they saw 
 during dinner, and afterwards from their fauteuils at 
 the Gymnase, Quaintance could catch no glimpse of 
 that fair face whose eyes had brought him over seas, 
 that slender, gracious figure which swept through all 
 his dreams like some stately old-world duchess. He 
 grew restless and distrait. O'Ferral took him off to 
 supper at the Cafe de Paris, but with no better result, 
 and they returned to the Rue St. Roch at an hour 
 which gave the concierge there a high opinion of their 
 habits. 
 
 For the next few days they lived a bustling life in 
 conjunction with Cornoyer, but Quaintance found time 
 withal to prosecute his assiduous searcfi, and O'Ferral
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 189 
 
 <3id all he could to aid him. But they could find no 
 faintest trace of Dagmar Lorraine. 
 
 Quaintance had even thoughts of advertising for the 
 owner of the bracelet, but finally decided not to do so, 
 since he could not well plead ignorance of her desire 
 regarding it. He presently took to his car again, and 
 patrolled Paris both within and without the walls, in 
 the vain hope that fortune might once more favor him 
 through that medium. 
 
 One afternoon he drove Madame Cornoyer and her 
 hopeful son to Auteuil, where there was a steeple- 
 chase meeting at which he could count on seeing a 
 good many members of the English and American 
 colonies in the French capital. There were graceful 
 beauties of many nations in gorgeous gowns on the 
 grand stand, where Cornoyer dutifully established 'his 
 mother amid a laughing circle of friends ere carrying 
 Quaintance off to the paddock, but none to compare, 
 in the American's mind, with the simple maiden he had 
 found barefoot on the seashore. At thought of that 
 brief, unforgettable moment he heaved a great sigh, 
 and, looking round, half afraid that his mischievous 
 friend might have heard it, found that Cornoyer had 
 deserted him. That earnest sportsman was running 
 hither and thither, between owners, jockeys, and the 
 booths of the pari-mutuel. And Quaintance was not 
 sorry to be left alone for a little. 
 
 He was wandering up and down disconsolately, 
 puffing a cigarette, not much interested in the race on 
 hand, when he saw a familiar face in the throng and al- 
 most immediately lost it again. It was that of a man, 
 but he could not at once recall where he had last seen 
 it, until like a flash there came to him the resemblance
 
 190 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 of one in a light tweed suit and a panama who had 
 shown a suspicious interest in the shutters of the bun- 
 galow on Peconic Bay. 
 
 It cost him two or three precious minutes to find 
 Cornoyer, and, when he at length discovered him, it 
 was too late to trace the unknown. He described that 
 individual as well as he could, but the broad details 
 which were all he could well supply were insufficient 
 for any identification. Cornoyer cudgelled his brains 
 to fit the right name to them, but, after he had sug- 
 gested a dozen whose owners distinctly resembled the 
 person pictured, Quaintance gave that chance up as 
 lost. He felt dull and disappointed as he returned to 
 the city with a gay party in the tonneau, since to have 
 found out who the man was might have been of assist- 
 ance incalculable in locating the girl. And fortunately 
 O'Ferral was at home, ready to condole with him over 
 such mishap. 
 
 "I wish I could have dodged this reception to-night," 
 said Quaintance, as they sat smoking together in the 
 correspondent's rooms after dinner. I don't feel in 
 tune for festivity." 
 
 "Brace up!" urged his friend. ''You can never tell 
 \vhen or where your luck may be going to change. 
 You might easily meet Miss Lorraine or that man 
 at the Elysee. Brace up! Don't lose your grip on the 
 game !" 
 
 "Oh, I'm not standing out for a moment," Quaint- 
 ance declared. "I'll play my hand to a finish before I 
 quit. What time do we start?" 
 
 "In about half an hour. I want to be on the spot 
 early, if you don't mind." 
 
 In half an hour therefore they drove along to the
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 191, 
 
 Palace, there to attend the function for which Mme. 
 Cornoyer, at her son's instigation, had got Quaintance 
 a card, while O'Ferral had received his from an official 
 source. The correspondent was persona grata, on his 
 own merits as much as owing to his professional stand- 
 ing, with many of those in high places, but they were 
 not unaware that the unobtrusive young man who now 
 and then passed through Paris without attracting other 
 attention than theirs, was the trusted representative of 
 a power beyond that wielded by any ruler. 
 
 Quaintance had revived outwardly by the way, and, 
 having been duly presented to his official host, who 
 also greeted O'Ferral with a grave cordiality, passed 
 on into the grand reception room, looking about him 
 with lively interest. 
 
 The scene there was a very brilliant one, and he felt 
 well repaid for the effort of will power which it had 
 cost him to come. He drew the correspondent to one 
 side and they took up an inconspicuous position beside 
 one of the four great pillars which formed a quadrangle 
 between the ante-room, and the long salon whither 
 most of the guests were repairing. Thence they com- 
 manded a clear view of the lofty, curtained entrance 
 where two resplendent huissiers were admitting each 
 new arrival after resonant announcement of his or her 
 title or style. 
 
 The chandeliers overhead lent added glory to the 
 magnificently frescoed ceiling and lit up a blaze of 
 color below. Soldiers, sailors, and diplomats outvied 
 each other in blue, and scarlet, and gold, while the 
 gleam of bare shoulders, the varied hues of the 
 women's ravishing toilettes, set off by the sombre
 
 192 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 black coats of those men who did not wear uniform, 
 blended with them in a rainbow-like harmony. 
 
 It was not yet late, and the spacious chambers would 
 be still more crowded presently. Quaintance looked 
 in vain for any known face among those within his 
 range of vision, and then turned to where the ushers 
 were introducing a steady stream of equally radiant 
 humanity. The Cornoyers had not so far put in an ap- 
 pearance, and he must pay his respects to Madame as 
 soon as she should have passed the President. There- 
 after he might leave when opportunity offered, and he 
 did not mean to remain very long. 
 
 He saw the British Ambassador enter and then 
 there was a lull in the inflow. O'Ferral's eyes had been 
 busy, but the correspondent, beyond pointing out one 
 or two notabilities, had had little to say, and Quaint- 
 ance, against his pillar, able, because of his height, to 
 overlook the spectacle at his ease, had fallen into a 
 reverie. His glance was still idly fixed on the curtains 
 which had been let fall behind the Englishman, when 
 the huissier's voice once more resounded, slow but dis- 
 tinctly, above the incessant buzz of the conversation, 
 the rippling accompaniment of laughter in bass and 
 treble. 
 
 ''Monsieur le Due et Madame la Duchesse des Reves" 
 said the man, very sonorously, and the silken screens 
 swung apart. 
 
 A strange hush fell on the ante-room and extended 
 to the larger salon as the couple thus announced came 
 forward from between two lines of bowing lackeys, all 
 eyes upon them. 
 
 "Des Reves has certainly succeeded in surprising
 
 MONSIEUR LE DUG ET MADAME LA DUCHESSE DES RfivES " 
 
 Page
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 193 
 
 us !" whispered a man at Quaintance's right hand, and 
 raised himself on tiptoe. 
 
 Quaintance had ceased to breathe. His lips were 
 bloodless, compressed. He stood immobile, stricken, 
 staring. Where had he seen the Due before? Once 
 at the bungalow on Long Island, and yet again that 
 morning at Auteuil. And the Duchesse ? Ah ! It was 
 that which hurt. 
 
 She was dressed in purple velvet. Her neck and 
 arms and shoulders, her fair, sweet face, from which 
 the wild roses had fled, were all of a tint with that tex- 
 ture. She was holding her proud head high. Her blue 
 eyes were very sombre as she and her husband stopped 
 where the President stood, while all about them babel 
 went on again as though it had never been suspended. 
 
 "Hold up, old chap!" said O'Ferral, for Quaintance 
 had clutched at his arm, was swaying, with bent knees, 
 like one on shipboard. His features were grey and 
 drawn. The blow had been cruelly sudden, and was so 
 crushing. It seemed as though the very light of life 
 had been snuffed out in him. His lips twitched. He 
 was speaking, in a low, broken tone. 
 
 "Monsieur le Due et Madame la Duchesse des Reves! 
 The Duchess of Dreams my Dagmar! God! 
 
 "I'm going away now. I'm going away, O'Ferral."
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 Of the three men who, from such widely different 
 motives, had spared no pains in pursuit of her whom 
 Quaintance now knew as Dagmar, Duchesse des 
 Reves, Monsieur le Due was the last to reach Paris, and 
 that in no over-violent hurry. For, while he may not 
 have wielded such wide powers as Fanchette credited 
 him with, he had always found that his rank in life car- 
 ried with it advantages denied to individuals less for- 
 tunately situated. When the ever-watchful Jules had 
 brought him breathless word of the Duchesse's final 
 flight, a cable message from New York had served to 
 set in motion that machinery by means of which she 
 \vas to be detained in Paris for him. And so secure 
 had he been as to its efficacy in that respect, that he 
 had not in any way hastened his own departure. 
 
 But, by the time he reached his ornate bachelor 
 apartment in the Rue St. Honore, he had forgotten 
 the fair cause of that delay, was all impatience to be- 
 hold her who awaited him. He sat down at his tele- 
 phone and called up the Palais de Justice. 
 
 The creature who had served his purpose there was 
 one Tissot-Latour, an aspirant for social recognition 
 and very ready to oblige a duke. M. Tissot-Latour 
 was out, it seemed, but Monsieur's urgent message 
 would be delivered to him immediately on his return, 
 
 194
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 195 
 
 which would not be until late afternoon or early even- 
 ing. Monsieur gave vent to his annoyance by cursing 
 Jules Chevrel when he appeared, and then demanded 
 of that unmoved functionary how he might best amuse 
 himself during the intervening hours. 
 
 Jules, who was in not a few respects an admirable 
 servant, had foreseen some such demand on his inge- 
 nuity and was prepared to meet it with a well-filled 
 programme of all that Paris offered in the way of en- 
 tertainment. Monsieur decided on the steeplechases 
 at Auteuil, and, having once more breakfasted at his 
 usual restaurant he always ate with better appetite in 
 public than at any of his clubs set forth for the race- 
 course in his most dashing motor, a scarlet car which 
 he affected in society, taking Jules with him as chauf- 
 feur. 
 
 He was in a restless frame of mind, and, after a 
 turn through the paddock, where he met but few ac- 
 quaintances and they busily occupied, he sought and 
 found Jules active at the betting booths, bade that ag- 
 grieved and sulky speculator drive him back to the 
 boulevards forthwith. There he left the red car at its 
 garage, and sent his valet about those duties from 
 which he had so lately released him, while he himself 
 passed the afternoon in a moody and aimless prome- 
 nade. 
 
 Tissot-Latour was seated in the smoking room when 
 he returned to the Rue St. Honore, a little vulgar, 
 over-dressed man, plebeian of body as mind, who rose 
 as Monsieur entered, and greeted him effusively. 
 
 "Have you brought the address?" the Due asked 
 bluntly, cutting him short in a long string of compli- 
 ments and questions.
 
 196 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 "Certainly," replied his tool. "You know that I 
 am at your service, Etienne, and here it is." 
 
 "Rue des Trois Freres," said Monsieur to himself, 
 as he took the card proffered him. "What under 
 heaven took her to Montmartre! 
 
 "Jules ! Phone to the stable to send the landau here 
 at once. Or no, the barouche will be better. And at 
 once. 
 
 "What's that, Latour? A card from M. le Presi- 
 dent's reception. Oh, very well. I'll see what I can do 
 about it, if I remember." 
 
 "That was no easy task you set me, Etienne," the 
 other told him, affecting to change the conversation 
 but inwardly much piqued by Monsieur's cavalier ac- 
 ceptance of his good offices. "It would have been ex- 
 tremely awkward for me if the head of my department 
 had got an inkling of the use to which I put his mandat, 
 to oblige you." 
 
 "My dear chap," Monsieur retorted, and, at the fa- 
 miliar form of his address, Tissot-Latour wriggled de- 
 lightedly, "there was not the slightest risk to you. The 
 lady presented herself under one which is not her law- 
 ful appellation, and that was in itself sufficient to jus- 
 tify you in detaining her. And she has made no pro- 
 test, in any case, which lets you out. I don't act with- 
 out knowing where I stand, and you will never get into 
 a scrape through me. 
 
 "Here, help yourself, and excuse me a moment" 
 
 He pushed the tantalus across the table, and left his 
 ally deeply gratified by his curt explanation and the 
 brusque lack of ceremony he displayed. Was it not 
 thus that the aristocracy treated their intimates, 
 thought Tissot-Latour, dishonest offspring of a dis-
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 197 
 
 honest dealer in hides and horns. He even entertained 
 some faint hope that Monsieur might seek his company 
 in the ducal barouche, and would have been proud be- 
 yond words to show himself therein, but that was 
 doomed to disappointment and he was sent about his 
 business as soon as the great vehicle with its two 
 champing greys appeared, at speed, from the Faubourg 
 St. Germain. Monsieur drove off in solitary state after 
 a last word with his jackal. 
 
 "Is there a man on watch?" he asked. 
 
 "There has been one since I had surveillance estab- 
 lished," replied the other pompously. "You won't for- 
 get my card for the reception, will you, Etienne, mon 
 cherf" 
 
 " 'Phone me about it later," Monsieur called back to 
 him and, "Confound the fellow's impudent familiarity !" 
 he muttered to himself. 
 
 The concierge at Number 4O-bis in the Rue des Trois 
 Freres chuckled explosively when he beheld the fash- 
 ionable equipage stop opposite his door. 
 
 "Void!" said he, when he had got his breath back. 
 "I prophesied that there would happen something pres- 
 ently, and here we have the confirmation of my words. 
 The wealthy prince arrives, in an expensive chariot. 
 He is a young man, this one, and of appearance irre- 
 proachable. He stops to question the dragon he has 
 employed to guard his treasure. And now Andre will 
 no doubt earn some small gratuity. 
 
 "Oui, Monsieur. Number 4O-bis. What name? 
 Mdlle. Lorraine. Yes, she is indoors, on the second 
 floor. Permit me to go first that I may show you." 
 
 It was Fanchette who first caught sight of Mon- 
 sieur's carriage as it stopped almost opposite the win-
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 dow she was gazing from, and so extreme was her 
 alarm in consequence that she could only point to it, 
 while her lips moved without a sound. The girl and 
 she had just returned from their excursion to the Ave- 
 nue Marceau, had been discussing the advisability of 
 flight from the Rue des Trois Freres because of their 
 unfortunate encounter with Dirck Arendsen. 
 
 That individual had introduced himself to them, even 
 as Miss Sophia had observed, first as a fellow passenger 
 of theirs upon the steamer, in which guise they had 
 already recognized him, and then as a dear friend of 
 the self-styled Stephen Quaintance, who was, he 
 averred, searching the city high and low for his errant 
 cousin. He had proved so determinedly insistent that 
 the girl had at length complied with his request for her 
 present address, and she felt glad that she had not 
 yielded to the temptation to mislead him, when Fan- 
 chette, looking back as they turned in at the street 
 door, saw that he had followed them thither at a re- 
 spectful distance. He had set off hot-foot immediately 
 he was thus satisfied that it was safe to do so, and might 
 now be back at any moment with one of the two men 
 they were most anxious to escape. And, in the mean- 
 time, came the other. 
 
 "It is Monsieur," the girl said listlessly, after she 
 had found out what had so frightened Fanchette. The 
 hour she herself had been dreading for so long had 
 come, but it found her with senses dulled by anticipa- 
 tion. 
 
 "It is Monsieur. You must be brave now. Fan- 
 chette. And do not leave me for an instant. See, I 
 have something here which will speak for us if our 
 own voices are not loud enough."
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 199 
 
 She slipped one hand into a pocket of the coat she 
 was still wearing and brought out the revolver which 
 had served her in such good stead on the occasion of 
 her night journey from New York to Stormport. It 
 was an idle exhibition, and yet achieved its object. 
 Fanchette took heart of grace, and did not feel herself 
 so utterly at Monsieur's mercy. 
 
 "Sit down," the girl said quietly, and, when Andre 
 knocked, she herself threw the door wide, motioned to 
 Monsieur that he might come in. He did so, deferen- 
 tially, hat in hand, speaking no word until his sharp- 
 eyed guide had once more been shot out. And then, 
 
 "Dagmar!" he said imploringly. 
 
 She scanned him closely for a moment, and saw that 
 he had not changed. Almost a twelvemonth had gone 
 by since that dark night on which she had fled from 
 him, leaving behind, in token of her desperate resolve, 
 the wedding ring which he had placed upon her finger 
 an hour before. Ah ! Had she but known in time, had 
 her eyes not been so innocently blind to the brand she 
 could see so plainly now on his smooth forehead. She 
 had once thought him handsome and believed in him 
 and trusted him implicitly. And insight into his true 
 character had come to her only an hour too late ! 
 
 He met her gaze with a tragic humility, such as 
 would at one time have stood him in good stead with 
 her, finding her even fairer, still more to be desired than 
 he had deemed her. She was no longer the unsophisti- 
 cated girl whom he, with his wide knowledge of the 
 world, had thought he might still bring to book for 
 her behavior. The lines of a graver experience showed 
 at the corners of her perfect lips and nostrils. She was
 
 200 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 a woman now, and altogether lovely, this, his as yet un- 
 kissed Duchesse. 
 
 "Dagmar!" he said imploringly, and, although it 
 hurt her to have him call her by that name, she could 
 not help herself. While he confined himself to that, 
 she could not check him. She did not answer, but 
 stood there waiting, her head back, her face expres- 
 sionless, at bay. 
 
 "Dagmar," he said, "I have come here to plead with 
 you. Will you not send your maid away, and let me 
 speak ? I beg that you will hear me, and think ! Am 
 I not your husband ?" 
 
 "Was what that woman told me at the church door 
 true?" she asked him, in a tone at which he winced as 
 though it had been a whip-lash, ignoring his objection 
 to her woman's presence. 
 
 He bit his lip, counting the chances that a lie might 
 pass, but knew that nothing but the truth would serve 
 him. 
 
 "It was true, to my shame," he said. "But listen, 
 Dagmar. I was no more than a boy then, and she 
 entrapped me. That happens to so many of us. 
 
 "No, I do not seek to excuse myself at her expense. 
 I only pray you to be lenient with me. It was not al- 
 together my fault, and " 
 
 "It was true," she broke in, not scornfully but in a 
 voice which hurt him more than would have the scorn 
 he deserved, "and I am glad that you do not deny it, 
 
 else I should have to count you coward as well as 
 
 But, never mind. I have no wish to judge you. It was 
 true and yet you call yourself my husband !" 
 
 He would have spoken, but she held a hand up and 
 so silenced him.
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 201 
 
 "You were a poor man when I married you," she 
 went on swiftly. "I did not know that you would one 
 day be Due des Reves, and I God help me! I be- 
 lieved you loved me. In that I was content. 
 
 "You married 'me believing me to be a rich man's 
 heiress, and for the sake of what you might get with 
 me." 
 
 He would have cried denial if he could, but remained 
 speechless, with bent head. 
 
 "I could have told you then that he was dead, and 
 that his millions would all go elsewhere if I should 
 marry you, but I believed you loved me ! 
 
 "I went to you, on impulse and in haste. There was 
 no time for explanations. And, on the church steps 
 I found out 
 
 "You are my husband, as you say, but in /lame 
 only, and because it was too late then to remedy our 
 mutual mistakes. And there the matter rests. It shall 
 rest there thought it cost me my life to fight men's 
 laws." 
 
 His hot eyes met hers for a moment, and he knew 
 then that he might neither bend nor break her will to 
 his. She was so very beautiful in her disdain, defying 
 him through life to death itself, that he repented in that 
 instant and more bitterly than he could have thought 
 possible a past more soiled and black than she might 
 even imagine. A swift self-pity overcame him as he 
 foresaw what forfeit fate was going to exact. If he 
 had only had a chance to live a decent life! Had he 
 but been brought up on different lines ! For her sake 
 he would fain have been a boy again, with a clean page 
 on which to write his history. But he could by no 
 means erase the evil record of his youth. He bowed
 
 202 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 his head still lower, because his eyes were dim and 
 could not meet hers as her husband's must. 
 
 For a few seconds he stayed thus. Then he looked 
 up again, his mind once more at work on possibilities. 
 For her sake, even at that late hour, he might do 
 much. He was yet young, in years. If he should prove 
 himself more worthy of her, she was too generous of 
 heart not to reward him. Such grace as she might 
 grant him in the meantime he would take from her 
 most thankfully. 
 
 She was his wife in name, this pure, proud beauty 
 who despised him and his coronet. No other man 
 might win her. He must, in the first place, make terms 
 of outward amity, and then trust time. 
 
 "Listen, then," he requested eagerly. "While you 
 are my wife in name, it is scarce seemly that we 
 should live thus, as open enemies. I have not ceased 
 to seek you since you left me, and now we shall surely 
 be able to come to some arrangement which will give 
 us both greater peace of mind. 
 
 "I am well off since I fell heir to my old uncle's vine- 
 yards at Les Reves. La Roche-Segur and the Chateau 
 des Reves of course came to me with the title. You 
 will not refuse from me that which is your due. 
 
 "It may be, too, that my life will not be over-long, in 
 which case it would be well that you were recognized as 
 Duchesse des Reves without further delay. I do not 
 speak thus to affect you to pity, but my doctors tell 
 me that I need not lay up any provision against old 
 age. 
 
 "Would it not please you to establish yourself in the 
 Hotel des Reves, while I remain in my own quarters 
 on this side of the river? I give you my word that I
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 203 
 
 shall not molest you in any way, and you may bid your 
 people refuse me admission if I so much as approach 
 the palace without first obtaining your leave. I only 
 ask you to bear with me now and then at such social 
 engagements as you may see fit to attend. Make any 
 conditions you please I agree to them all in advance. 
 And I solemnly promise that you will have no further 
 cause to complain of my conduct." 
 
 His voice shook slightly, so earnest was his appeal, 
 and the girl had heard it with close attention. She was 
 no less anxious than he to attain some less harassing 
 mode of life than had been her lot of late, to find some 
 safe refuge from this Stephen Quaintance whose most 
 unexpected arrival had so disturbed her. And it did 
 not take her long to make up her mind. 
 
 "It shall be as you wish," she said deliberately. "But 
 only for such time as you shall respect your promise." 
 
 "I shall break no more promises," he assured her 
 eagerly, all that was evil in his handsome face for the 
 nonce obliterated under the spell of her gracious pres- 
 ence, looking more like the gallant gentleman he might 
 have been than old Fanchette had ever seen him before. 
 
 "I shall break no more promises, and I hope that you 
 will one day be able to think less harshly of me. When 
 will it suit you to remove to your hotel?" 
 
 "Now, at once." 
 
 "Your carriage waits. May I escort you?" 
 
 She shook her head. 
 
 "Fanchette will go with me." 
 
 He bowed, choking down his chagrin, schooling him- 
 self to prompt obedience since it was only by such 
 means that he might gain her confidence.
 
 204 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 "Then I may take my leave. And, Dagmar, be- 
 lieve me, I am very grateful to you." 
 
 "I only seek to do what I see to be right," she an- 
 swered briefly. 
 
 He lingered on the threshold, not daring even to 
 hold out his hand, and she took no least step toward 
 him. 
 
 "Will you permit me to make known our marriage?" 
 he asked most humbly, and Fanchette could scarcely 
 recognize in such a timid suppliant, the haughty Due 
 des Reves, Vicomte Aiglemont and Seigneur de la 
 Roche-Segur. 
 
 "To-night there is a reception at the Elysee," he 
 went on hurriedly. "All Paris will be present. If you 
 care to accompany me, it would be very opportune to 
 announce it then. I have just landed from New York. 
 My friends would assume that we had met and married 
 there, which would save gossip. We need not unde- 
 ceive them." 
 
 "Very well," she agreed, walling to avoid needless 
 notoriety if that were possible, and he withdrew, suffi- 
 ciently well pleased. 
 
 Dagmar, Duchesse des Reves, heard him go down- 
 stairs with dragging feet, and sank into a chair, a tired 
 sigh on her trembling lips. 
 
 "I could not but surrender, Fanchette," she said 
 'drearily. "There was no other ,way, and " 
 
 Fanchette enfolded her in two strong arms. 
 
 "You have done well, dear heart," she whispered, 
 her tone a caress, holding the quivering form close 
 in her grasp. "You have done well, and it is best so. 
 Forget the past. Think no more of what might have 
 been."
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 205 
 
 Presently Fanchette set to her packing, her mistress 
 helping her so that they might not lose a single mo- 
 ment in making their escape from other callers. The 
 footman came up from the carriage to ask orders, and 
 him they sent to find a cab, by which their baggage was 
 sent on ahead of them. Then they descended and 
 drove off in the more imposing equipage, amid the 
 open curiosity of the Rue des Trois Freres. 
 
 Andre especially was interested, and although Fan- 
 chette had feed him liberally for such small services as 
 he had rendered, he could not find it in him to forgive 
 her the rejection of his proffered comradeship. He 
 dropped her gold piece beside that the Duke had given 
 him, and spoke sarcastically. 
 
 "Ohe !" said he from his post on the doorstep, "Ohe, 
 old tongue of vinegar, is it thus thou wouldst salve 
 sour speeches? A pleasant word is sometimes worth 
 more than a gold piece, hein ! And it may be that we 
 have not yet heard the last of thee and thy fair mistress. 
 Where there is honey one may see more than a single 
 fly." 
 
 Nor was it long before events justified him in his 
 premonition, for, a short hour after the two had fled, 
 there came to the Rue des Trois Freres in a great 
 hurry a tall, fair man with bloodshot, quarrelsome eyes, 
 and a dark fellow wearing a great black beard and 
 moustache. In whom Andre discovered a fresh source 
 of revenue, but only after he had proved to them that 
 it was not his fault that the girl had gone. He made 
 high terms with them, and having taken payment for 
 his information in advance, told them how they might 
 find her, chuckling wheezily the while. 
 
 "You must ask the great Due des Reves where she
 
 206 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 is now," he explained slowly, relishing their impatience 
 of his drawl, "and when you see him you will also see 
 the wickedest aristocrat that we have left in France. 
 Many a pretty bird he's netted, that same gentleman, 
 and now he has her in his toils, the prettiest of them all. 
 
 "Yes, she went off in his carriage, scarcely an hour 
 ago. But he set out on foot, to save scandal ! As if any 
 fresh scandal would affect his reputation ! 
 
 "That is the clue you have paid for, messieurs, and 
 cheap at the price, as you will find if you follow it up. 
 I may add, for your edification, that mademoiselle wears 
 no rings." 
 
 He winked waggishly at the tall, fair man, with quite 
 unexpected results. For that individual suddenly 
 picked him up by the seat of his trousers and his coat 
 collar, and cast him untenderly into his littered den 
 underneath the stairs. The door was shut upon Andre 
 and his anguished outcry, the key turned in the lock 
 and withdrawn. His assailant pocketed it, and then de- 
 parted wth the dark, black-bearded man, who had 
 looked on unmoved.
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 BLACK DIRCK ADOPTS STRONG MEASURES 
 
 "Well?" Arendsen asked, in no pleasant tone, as 
 Seager and he set off at a smart pace down the street. 
 He had not understood much of the conver- 
 sation which had taken place, but inferred from that 
 worthy's treatment of the over-voluble Andre that their 
 visit had been in vain, that the girl had again eluded 
 them. 
 
 He and his ally had also made most assiduous search 
 for her since they had left the Hotel du Palais. They 
 had secured convenient quarters on the Isle de la Cite, 
 and then scoured Paris, systematically, but without re- 
 sult until that afternoon, when he had suddenly been 
 inspired to call by himself for the two old maids in the 
 Avenue Marceau, to see what he could find out from 
 them on his own account. There were only three days 
 left in which to win or lose the enormous stake for 
 which he was now prepared to back Seager to a finish. 
 Great had been his elation, therefore, when he had met 
 the girl herself leaving the Misses Winters'. 
 
 He had cursed bitterly afterwards, in the first place 
 because he had not taken his accomplice with him, and 
 then because he had not trusted her to tell the truth 
 when she had at length and with unfeigned reluctance 
 given him her address for her over-affectionate cousin. 
 Had he not wasted time in tracking her thereto, he 
 
 207
 
 208 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 might still have got Seager to the spot in time to inter- 
 cept her. As it was, it had cost him so long to dis- 
 cover that untrustworthy wanderer, that she had es- 
 caped them again in the interim. It was very galling to 
 have been so near success, to be once more baffled. 
 
 "Well?" he asked wrathfully. "What's doing? Did 
 you find out " 
 
 "She's gone off with the Due des Reves," snapped 
 Seager, his voice no less vicious. "I don't suppose she 
 knows that he's one of the greatest scoundrels unhung. 
 I'm going to get her back from him, and, if he'll only 
 stand up to me, I'll break his noble neck with a great 
 deal of pleasure. Here's a cab. Yes, I know where 
 we're going. Don't you interfere." 
 
 Than that, Arendsen could get no more out of him, 
 but was content in seeing him thus spurred to action. 
 Lately, and fretting under repeated failure, he had 
 been drinking a good deal again, was in too dangerous 
 a mood to stand nagging. Silence obtained between 
 them during the long drive from the Rue des Trois 
 Freres to the Faubourg St. Germain. Seager knew 
 that the Due des Reves had his hotel somewhere with- 
 in the city, and meant to seek him out there. The 
 cabby could be trusted to take them to it. 
 
 He did so, and would have turned into the carriage 
 entrance of the great mansion on the Boulevard but 
 that two stalwart men in the ducal livery sprang for- 
 ward and seized the horse's head. 
 
 "Is this the place?" Seager asked, and jumped out. 
 "Pay the cab off, Arendsen," he ordered, over his 
 shoulder, and walked up to the nearest gate-keeper. 
 
 "I want to see the Due des Reves," he said abruptly. 
 
 A more conciliatory manner would probably have
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 209 
 
 evoked a pleasanter reply. He would have been in- 
 formed that M. le Due might be found at his town ad- 
 dress, in the Rue St. Honore. As it was the man re- 
 sponded with equal brevity. 
 
 "That is impossible." 
 
 "Then it must be made possible," Seager insisted 
 hotly. "I've come here to see him, and see him I will." 
 
 "You are welcome to wait." 
 
 Meantime Arendsen had dismissed the cab and con- 
 fronted the other official, with whom he exchanged a 
 few words in such French as he could command. 
 
 "Don't lose your rag!" he called over to his com- 
 panion. "The Due's not at home. It's not him we 
 want, anyway." 
 
 It did not soothe Seager to think he had been made 
 a fool of by a mere lackey. But he gulped his anger 
 down for the time being. 
 
 "If the Due isn't in," he said more smoothly, "I'll 
 see Miss Lorraine." 
 
 "That is also impossible, said the man stubbornly, 
 but his companion was more politic. 
 
 "There is no such person here," he asserted. 
 
 Their joint reply enraged Seager beyond measure. 
 
 "Stand aside," he commanded, and made as if he 
 would have pushed past between them, ignoring all 
 Arendsen's cautions. 
 
 The gate-keepers had been instructed that no one 
 should enter except by express permission of the 
 Duchesse. They did not hesitate to withstand this ir- 
 ritable, overbearing foreigner. He struck at one and a 
 fracas began which ended in his being ignominiously 
 ejected, while Arendsen once more looked on inac- 
 tively, not thinking it worth his while to interfere fur-
 
 210 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 ther. Then the great gates were rolled into place and 
 their two guardians disappeared within the gate-lodge 
 to rid themselves of the traces of conflict. 
 
 Arendsen went across to the gutter in which their 
 aggressor was lying, half stunned, and, having first 
 revived him by the old deep-sea method of biting one 
 of his thumbs savagely, got him on to his feet again. 
 When Seager recovered his senses he would forthwith 
 have besieged the hotel des Reves, but his confederate 
 at last succeeded in restraining him from such im- 
 mediate folly, and they were still swearing hoarsely at 
 one another when there stepped forward from the 
 shadow of a near tree a stout, sharp-featured individual 
 who made some essay to soothe them. 
 
 "Monsieur has been outrageously maltreated," he 
 said in French to Seager. "Did I hear rightly that he 
 asked for Mdlle. Lorraine?" 
 
 "Who the devil are you?" asked his protege, much 
 astonished by his unexpected appearance and not at all 
 appreciating his sympathy. "What business is it of 
 yours who I asked for?" 
 
 "I might prove a friend, if Monsieur would only per- 
 mit me," the unknown protested smoothly. "It may 
 be that I can serve Monsieur. My name is Chevrel, 
 Jules Chevrel. I was formerly in the confidence of M. 
 le Due des Reves. I also sought the honor of an in- 
 terview with Mdlle. Lorraine, and was turned away 
 with contumely." 
 
 "You were, eh? Well " Seager looked him over 
 again "We'd better get out of this. No use of butting 
 against stone walls. Join me in a brandy-and-soda, and 
 we'll have a chat. We may be able to do something for 
 each other.
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 211 
 
 "Come on, Arendsen. I know a poison-dispensary 
 not many blocks from here, and I want a wash-down 
 badly." 
 
 He spoke peremptorily, and the others followed him 
 without demur. A few minutes later the gates of the 
 hotel des Reves were thrown wide open again. 
 
 A short walk took the three conspirators into the 
 Quartier Latin, to a blind alley known as the Impasse 
 de Paradis, where Seager ushered them into a modest 
 brasserie bearing the no less curious cognomen of the 
 Blue Rabbit. The grey-haired host of that retiring es- 
 tablishment did not seem overjoyed to see him, but said 
 no word of good or bad, even when Jie tossed a ten- 
 franc piece on the pewter counter and passed through 
 to an interior and still more private apartment. 
 
 The Brasserie of the Blue Rabbit was but sparsely 
 patronized at that hour and they found its sanctum 
 quite empty. There they installed themselves at a cor- 
 ner table, and, having given a sleepy waiter an order 
 for absinthe, and brandy, and beer, tried some prelim- 
 inary tricks of fence until it was quite clear to all that 
 all were rogues, without a scruple among them. Then 
 the glasses were replenished, at Seager's order, and 
 they began to talk business. 
 
 "Look you, gentlemen," said Jules Chevrel, after he 
 had swallowed the greater portion of the opalescent 
 liquor the waiter had just brought him, an example 
 which Seager was prompt to follow, "I have a plan. If 
 you will pay for it you may have an interview with the 
 lady to-night. But in calculating the payment, you 
 must remember two points. These are, first, the sac- 
 rifice of my own interests, to further yours, and then the 
 fact that this may be the last chance you or I will have.
 
 212 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 To-morrow she may be on her way to La Roche-Segur, 
 or the Chateau des Reves, or London, or Rome, or 
 Vienna. Monsieur my late employer is a man of many 
 strange caprices. There is but this one opportunity to 
 be counted upon, and I value it very highly." 
 
 "Put a price on it," Seager retorted bluntly. "If 
 that's not too steep, and the plan's all right, we can 
 probably do a deal." 
 
 Arendsen looked extremely uncomfortable while 
 Jules Chevrel was making a quick mental calculation. 
 Seager's cavalier method of discussing money matters 
 irked him more than a little. The Frenchman gath- 
 ered from his sullen scowl that it must be he who held 
 the key of their treasury. 
 
 The worthy Jules had amassed a modest fortune of 
 some ninety thousand francs, including the five thou- 
 sand of which he had mulcted Madame la Duchesse in 
 New York, during the few years which had elapsed 
 since he first entered Monsieur's service, and it was 
 his present ambition to increase that sum to six figures, 
 when he would at once discharge himself without warn- 
 ing. To that end he had intended to extort ten thou- 
 sand more from Madame, under threat that he would 
 otherwise feel it his duty to tell the Due how she had 
 spent one afternoon in New York and dined at Mar- 
 tin's with her husband's valet. Either she or Mon- 
 sieur himself, to whom he already referred as his late 
 employer, must pay to suppress that story. But he 
 had been foiled in his effort to get speech with the 
 Duchesse, and Monsieur might prove dangerous. 
 
 Meantime here were two providential Americans, no 
 doubt wealthy, who did not seem to know that this 
 Miss Lorraine in whom they were so deeply interested
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 213 
 
 was really the Duchesse des Reves. And he certainly 
 had no object in undeceiving them. If they would 
 pay him the ten thousand francs he required from some 
 quarter or other and no matter how, it would be a 
 simple matter to give up in their favor his further plan 
 for interviewing Madame. It would do her no harm 
 to meet two of her countrymen for half an hour, and 
 they would bear in his place the brunt of any resultant 
 unpleasantness. He abruptly opened negotiations at 
 fifteen thousand francs. 
 
 Arendsen almost cried out in horror, but Seager laid 
 a restraining hand on his arm and nodded sagaciously. 
 From his point of view three thousand dollars was an 
 altogether infinitesimal sum compared with what it 
 would bring them. And his brain, simulated by the 
 brandy he had imbibed, was busy now. He had already 
 conceived a scheme which must make success quite 
 certain, if they could but reach the girl. 
 
 "Spit out the plan," he commanded, and Jules Chev- 
 rel could have gnashed his teeth for that he had not 
 asked more, while Arendsen only contained himself 
 with a visible effort and in response to a warning pres- 
 sure from his accomplice. 
 
 "If it's a sound one," he commanded, "I'll tack on a 
 bonus of the same amount. So that you'll stand in 
 with us to the tune of thirty thousand francs. There's 
 nothing mean about poor old Dom Stephen Quaint- 
 ance." 
 
 He coughed, and stared fixedly at the Frenchman. 
 
 Jules Chevrel leaned across the marble-topped table, 
 and spoke in a low, rapid voice. 
 
 "To-night," he explained, "she will go to the Elysee. 
 There is a soiree at the palace to which the Due has
 
 214 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 promised to take her. She will drive there alone in her 
 carriage, and it will return to the hotel. 
 
 "Now, mark. Although I was turned away from 
 its gates just now, I have friends within. The head- 
 coachman is one. He has only a single match-pair in 
 his stable at present, since Monsieur has been abroad 
 for some time, and one of them will fall sick at a late 
 hour. In despair he will telephone Monsieur's garage 
 to send an automobile to the palace in place of the car- 
 riage. The chauffeur will be well out of the way, but 
 I shall be there at the time. And ready, as I always 
 am, to oblige a friend. 
 
 "Can you handle an automobile ?" 
 
 Seager nodded again, and rose from the table. 
 
 "I think we can make a deal of it," he remarked with 
 brisk complacence. "You will excuse us for ten min- 
 utes, M. Chevrel? No, we're not gong to beat it it 
 would be easy to get up and go, if we wished and I 
 want you to wait here till we return." 
 
 "I am not afraid," Jules Chevrel assured him with 
 bland untruthfulness. "I shall wait fifteen no, twenty 
 minutes for you, until eight o'clock. You will be back 
 by then. I must leave you in time to see the carriage 
 start from the hotel des Reves, so that I may be sure 
 she goes with it." 
 
 Arendsen was so overcome by his feelings that he 
 could scarce speak when they reached the street, but 
 Seager was jubilant. 
 
 "Don't lose your wool," he advised, and dragged 
 his confederate hurriedly down the Impasse de Para- 
 dis, toward its blind end. 
 
 "Never mind about the money just now. I've got 
 the whole thing mapped out to a finish and you'll get
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 215 
 
 ft back with good interest. No, I'm not robbing you. 
 Damn it, man ! you must sow before you can reap." 
 
 At the darkest corner of the dark Impasse he stopped 
 before an almost invisible postern, and after much 
 hasty fumbling produced from his pockets a key with 
 which he opened that. Arendsen followed him, still 
 muttering, into a passage black as the pit, and, after 
 Seager had closed the door carefully, he caught at his 
 confederate's sleeve, leading him forward with assured 
 footsteps. 
 
 They passed through other unbolted doors, crossed 
 a wooden floor and climbed many flights of stairs, but 
 no more was said till they stopped at the top in a dim 
 and shadowy space under a huge skylight. 
 
 "This is the hotel de Seager and Quaintance," said 
 Seager, grinning, as he struck a match and lit a couple 
 of candles on a shelf behind the door. Arendsen looked 
 round blinkingly, and saw that they were in a dusty 
 and untenanted but comfortably furnished studio. And, 
 before he could ask any questions, the other went on, 
 
 "I lived here for nearly a week when my money went 
 done. It's an empty house, and hasn't been let for 
 years, so that it was easy to get the keys to inspect it 
 and have a skeleton made before I returned them. This 
 room's as safe as a padded cell. The buildings all round 
 are warehouses and deposits. We're a couple of stories 
 above the highest of them. Once we get her upstairs 
 our troubles are at an end, and we're going to get her 
 upstairs to-night even if it does cost us three thousand 
 dollars. Now, do you understand?" 
 
 Arendsen glanced quickly about him again. There 
 was no possibility of escape through the skylight. It 
 was too lofty. The windowless walls were solid, the
 
 2i6 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 door was sufficiently massive and there was a second 
 door standing open between them and the top of the 
 stairs. The place had been planned to ensure seclusion 
 from the outer world, and they could have found none 
 more perfectly suited to their requirements. 
 
 "The front door opens on to a lane past the ware- 
 houses," Seager stated, "but it will be safer to bring her 
 in by the back. Come on, Arendsen. We'll get back 
 to our rat-faced friend, and fix things so that your three 
 thousand dollars will be well secured. I'm not the sort 
 of fellow to throw money around recklessly, and by to- 
 morrow night we'll both be millionaires !" 
 
 He laughed aloud, and Arendsen started nervously 
 at the low, eerie echo which died away through the de- 
 serted dwelling. 
 
 "It's all right," Seager assured him and blew out the 
 candles. "I know the old shack from cellar to roof- 
 tree, and you might shout long enough before you'd 
 be heard. 
 
 "You left me plenty of time to explore it," he added 
 morosely. "I might have been a ghost at this moment 
 for all you " 
 
 "Oh, never mind about that," retorted the other. 
 "I'm paying a cruel price now to help you through, and 
 look here, you must cut the drink out till the whole 
 business is safely settled. I won't sink a cent more 
 in it unless you'll swear to keep sober." 
 
 They were still wrangling on this sore subject when 
 they got back to the brasserie, where they found Jules 
 Chevrel awaiting them, outwardly most indifferent, but 
 in his heart surprised to see them again. Seager re- 
 fused his offer of further refreshment, and curtly in- 
 formed him that they had decided to close with his offer.
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 217 
 
 It was quickly arranged that they should present them- 
 selves at M. le Due's garage shortly before eleven, 
 and he went his way well satisfied. 
 
 They spent the intervening hours in making such 
 provision as seemed good to them for the well-being 
 of their prospective prisoner, and, Seager having slaked 
 with a bottle of English soda, a consuming thirst caused 
 by his journeys between the house and the stores he 
 had visited, they crossed the river again about ten, 
 reaching the Rue St. Honore before the time ap- 
 pointed. 
 
 It turned out to be just as well that they had, for an 
 unexpected complication had cropped up. Jules Chev- 
 rel's friend, the coachman, had telephoned that the car 
 must call at the hotel des Reves for a maid who was to 
 escort her mistress from the Elysee, and he did not 
 know how that would affect the bargain he had made 
 with the Americans. 
 
 It was Arendsen who, in the end, reassured him on 
 that point, gave him a cheque for three thousand dol- 
 lars, and sent him out with Seager to have the latter 
 properly dressed for his part. When they returned 
 he drew his accomplice aside while Chevrel was occu- 
 pied with the car. 
 
 "Bring the maid straight to the back door," he whis- 
 pered. "Tell her you're going to cross by the Pont 
 Neuf, if she asks questions. I'll be waiting there. 
 Leave the rest to me." 
 
 "Right," said Seager briefly, and the other hurried 
 away. 
 
 Some twenty minutes before midnight the scarlet 
 limousine turned into the courtyard of the hotel des 
 Reves and, having halted at a pillared portico, stood
 
 218 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 there throbbing impatiently until Fanchette appeared. 
 The door of the closed carriage-body was at the back, 
 and she climbed in at once. Seager set out with her 
 toward the Pont Neuf and then turned to the right, 
 following the less frequented lanes of the Quartier un- 
 til he reached the Impasse de Paradis, where he drew 
 up within an inch of the blind wall at its dark end. 
 
 Scarcely had the wheels ceased to revolve when 
 Arendsen, who had been anxiously awaiting it, sprang 
 in beside Fanchette as she came toward the door in 
 surprise at the stoppage. He had thrown a blanket 
 about her head and shoulders before she could utter a 
 sound, and although she fought desperately to free her- 
 self, it was in vain, for Seager had come to the other's 
 assistance. They carried her indoors, and by the time 
 they got her to the foot of the stairs she had ceased to 
 struggle. 
 
 "Show a light," Arendsen ordered breathlessly, and, 
 as the other struck a match, he stooped over her, with- 
 drawing the blanket and her long grey cloak. 
 
 "She's safe," he muttered, staring into the white, 
 \vrinkled face, and Seager sniffed. 
 
 "Chloroform !" he commented indifferently, and 
 kicked the blanket to one side. "You're taking strong 
 measures now, Arendsen." 
 
 When they came down stairs again, having left her 
 unconscious, safely locked up in the studio, Arendsen 
 had a grey shawl in one hand and he picked her cloak 
 up in passing. 
 
 No one seemed to have noticed the car standing 
 there in the shadow. He entered it, after a last look at 
 the gaunt, black building behind him, and Seager drove 
 him at decorous speed toward the Elysee.
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 THE GROOM OF THE GATEWAY IS MUCH AGGRIEVED BY 
 THE SCARLET AUTO 
 
 "Cinquante-deux" said the groom of the gateway, 
 scanning the card brought him by one of his satellites 
 from the ladies' cloak room. "Number fifty-two, 
 Madame la Duchesse des Reves, a carriage and pair. 
 
 "Is Madame la Duchesse on the way?" 
 
 "She was cloaked and bidding good-bye to the Due 
 when she gave me her ticket," responded the under- 
 ling, and his superior turned in haste to the quadruple 
 rank of vehicles carefully parked where he could com- 
 mand them. 
 
 "Cinquante-deux," he cried, in his most imposing and 
 sonorous voice. The order was taken up and repeated 
 at regular intervals along the lines. 
 
 "Cinquante-deux. Numero cinquante-deux." 
 
 The groom of the gateway was very proud of his per- 
 fect system. 
 
 Great was his wrath, therefore, when, in place of the 
 carriage and pair which should have appeared at his 
 word, a dashing scarlet automobile sped forward from 
 among the array of twinkling lamps and stopped at the 
 steps even as Madame la Duchesse came down the long 
 corridor. He darted toward the luckless chauffeur 
 who was driving it. 
 
 "Imbecile!" he hissed between set teeth. "Didst thou 
 
 219
 
 220 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 not hear the instruction I gave, 'Number fifty-two'! 
 Hast not thou eyes to read the distinct numerals on thy 
 plainly printed card of exit!" 
 
 "Tais-toi done, vieux gros" growled the man thus be- 
 rated, and thrust before him a pasteboard bearing the 
 ciphers in question. 
 
 "The car has been sent for Madame in place of the 
 carriage." 
 
 The groom of the gateway glared at him, but there 
 was no time to vent his displeasure on the insolent me- 
 chanic. The Duchesse was coming down the steps and 
 there was a party behind her for whom he had not yet 
 called forward any conveyance. He sprang ponder- 
 ously to the door at the back of the automobile, opened 
 it and stood bowing beside it that Madame la Duchesse 
 might step in speedily and yet under all ceremony, 
 closed it deftly behind her and uttered the one word, 
 "Forward !" in a tone of thunder. Then he hurried 
 back to where the others were waiting, still swearing 
 under his breath at the scarlet auto which had thus an- 
 noyingly interfered with the smooth working of his 
 system. He would soon lose his reputation if M. le 
 President's guests were to be kept standing on the 
 steps of the palace, even though it were through no 
 fault of his. 
 
 And meantime the object of his anathema was mak- 
 ing for the Pont de la Concorde, ostensibly on its way 
 to the Boulevard St. Germain. 
 
 The Duchesse des Reves had taken no notice of the 
 change of vehicle, and, if she had, would have thought 
 it but sensible to have a car out at that late hour in 
 place of a pair of horses. Her mind was still preoccu- 
 pied with the events of the evening as she stepped
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 221 
 
 lightly in and sat down, somewhat wearily, beside Fan- 
 chette who had faced about and was fumbling with a 
 drawn blind. And neither had anything to say until, 
 as the car moved forward, the Duchesse suddenly felt 
 a vise-like arm thrown about her, a cloth was clapped 
 to her lips so that she could not utter a sound 
 
 When she opened her eyes again Fanchette was 
 bending over her, with a white, horrified face. 
 
 "What has happened, Fanchette?" she asked 
 brokenly, conscious of an overpowering languor, a sick 
 sensation of helplessness. She was lying on a low 
 couch, in a room she could not recognize, and when 
 she tried to raise herself that she might look about her 
 she had not the strength. At the sound of her voice, 
 Fanchette's eyes filled with tears of thankfulness. 
 
 "Oh, ma'mselle !" cried the woman, her mind divided 
 between relief and despair, still using the old, familiar 
 form of address although her young mistress now wore 
 a wedding-ring openly. 
 
 "Oh, ma'mselle ! It is that we have been kidnapped. 
 First I, then you. I do not know for what purpose, nor 
 where we are. .They brought me here instead of to the 
 Elysee, in M. le Due's own auto. They drugged me 
 also, but I had partly recovered before they carried you 
 in, and I was afraid you would not. Oh, ma'mselle! 
 what shall we " 
 
 "Help me to sit up," the Duchesse requested, the 
 clouds clearing from her brain under the shock of such 
 strange intelligence, and, as her maid heaped cushions 
 around her, she stared about her at her surroundings. 
 
 The chamber which, if what Fanchette said were 
 correct, was their prison, was an old-fashioned studio 
 with faded furnishings. It looked very gloomy then,
 
 222 
 
 with only the light of a single lamp set on a rosewood 
 table beside her, but a lofty skylight showed that it 
 would not be dark in the daytime. The walls were bare, 
 broken by but one door without bolt or handle, and 
 that was closed. She could hear a clock ticking. 
 
 "How long have I been here?" she questioned, striv- 
 ing to speak confidently, but her tones trembled in 
 spite of herself. 
 
 "Not yet twenty minutes, ma'mselle," Fanchette an- 
 swered. 
 
 "One of them wore your cloak in the car," said the 
 Duchesse as recollection came slowly back to her. "He 
 seized me, and I could not cry out." 
 
 "Because of the chloroform," said Fanchette. 
 
 "Help me to my feet," begged her mistress, and, 
 when she had risen, stood for a moment swaying un- 
 steadily. 
 
 "Water," she whispered, and drank thirstily when 
 that was brought her. 
 
 She took a turn or two round the room, leaning heav- 
 ily on Fanchette's arm, scanning every corner. Soft 
 footsteps sounded without: some one knocked at the 
 door. They shrank back behind the table, but the 
 Duchesse curbed her alarm sufficiently to answer, 
 "Entrez." It would be well to learn the worst at once. 
 She only regretted that she had so lately abandoned 
 her habit of carrying arms. But she had thought that 
 her troubles were all at an end when she had accepted 
 her husband's protection and the streets of Paris were 
 not like the lonely roads on Long Island. 
 
 The door opened slowly, and Dirck Arendsen ap- 
 peared on the threshold. He looked relieved at sight
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 223 
 
 of the two women standing there, and spoke with a 
 smooth geniality. 
 
 "I'm glad to see you looking so well, Miss Lorraine/' 
 he said, ignoring all that had gone before, and meet- 
 ing her stormily anxious eyes with a bluff affectation of 
 openness. "I've been looking forward to introducing 
 your cousin to you here he is. Stephen, this is Miss 
 Dagmar Lorraine, of whom you have spoken to me. 
 It's a great privilege to be the means of bringing you 
 two together." 
 
 He motioned his confederate forward, and Seager 
 entered jauntily, striding up to her with outstretched 
 hand, his coarsely handsome features lit up by what 
 he meant to be a frank smile. 
 
 "This is a pleasure I've long looked forward to," he 
 said with florid effusion. "It would have saved us 
 a whole peck of trouble if I'd only known, the last time 
 I met you, that you were Miles Quaintance's daugh- 
 ter." 
 
 He stopped, confronting her where she stood beside 
 Fanchette, both hands behind her, her head back, look- 
 ing him over with a disconcerting air of detachment 
 which presently deepened into contempt as his glance 
 fell before hers : and his face darkened visibly. She had 
 recognized him at once as the man she had met on her 
 long night-journey from New York to Stormport. His 
 methods of dealing with women were quite on a par 
 with those of Miles Quaintance, his uncle. 
 
 "I am not Miles Quaintance's daughter," she an- 
 swered distinctly. "My father's name was Lorraine." 
 
 "Yes, yes: I know all about that," he assented with 
 sudden impatience, "and you know well enough too 
 \vhat I mean. The main point is that I'm Stephen
 
 224 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 Quaintance, and send that old woman outside while 
 -we talk things over. Arendsen, you can look after 
 her." 
 
 For all answer she put an arm through Fanchette's, 
 and Arendsen did not think fit to interfere. He wanted 
 to hear for himself what arrangement was come to be- 
 tween those two, and he was not greatly pleased with 
 these preliminaries. 
 
 "Oh, very well," Seager remarked. "Have it your 
 own way. I've nothing to say that I need be ashamed 
 of, and all I desired was to spare your blushes. I sup- 
 pose you can guess what I've got to tell you?" 
 
 He once more assumed his smile, but she shook her 
 head. 
 
 "Come, come !" he protested. "You know that you 
 and I have common interests under my uncle's will, 
 don't you? And on what condition? I've taken a lot 
 of trouble to help you to your fair share of ten mil- 
 lion dollars, and I must say I don't think you're treat- 
 ing me very handsomely in return. Sit down, and act 
 sensibly. Don't stand on so much ceremony. I'm 
 not a bad sort of chap, as you'll find out in time, but 
 you mustn't rub me the wrong way too much or I'll 
 scratch." 
 
 He threw himself into a chair, pulled a cigarette- 
 case out of his pocket, and struck a match. 
 
 "Sit down, and act sensibly," he repeated between 
 puffs, but she remained as she was, very lovely in her 
 disdain, and he looked up again with a scowl which 
 changed to an appreciative leer. Arendsen was still 
 standing sentry beside the closed door. He did not 
 doubt the ultimate outcome of the interview, and only 
 wished that he had been Seager. Fanchette had one of
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 225 
 
 the girl's hands fast in her own, had subdued her own 
 fears for the sake of her mistress. Neither yet quite 
 understood the motive for their abduction, but that was 
 made thoroughly clear, to the Duchesse at least, by her 
 so-called cousin's ensuing remark. 
 
 "We've only twenty-four hours left to get married 
 in," he said sullenly, "and we might just as well carry 
 the thing through on a friendly footing. I want 
 
 "I don't think you can be aware, Mr. Quaintance," 
 she interrupted, "that I am the Duchesse des Reves." 
 
 "Oh! cut that out," he cried harshly. "You're not 
 fool enough, surely, to take that fellow's fairy tales oa 
 trust. Duchesse des Reves ! You're not the first by a 
 long chalk who's tripped over that limed twig, and I 
 wouldn't have twitted you with it either if you had said 
 nothing about it. You were Miss Lorraine when you 
 left the Rue des Trois Freres a few hours ago, and 
 you're Miss Lorraine still. There's more than a ring 
 needed to make you Duchesse des Reves. I don't 
 know why women are always so simple!" 
 
 She winced as though he had struck her, and bent 
 her head as she heard the repute in which her husband 
 was held. 
 
 "Listen, now," he went on more composedly, having 
 settled that point to his own satisfaction. "There's no 
 reason why you and I shouldn't pull together. Five 
 millions will more than make up to you for the loss 
 of a title you'd never have been allowed to wear, and 
 I'm not a bad sort of chap. Give me a fair trial and if 
 I don't suit you I'll quit honor bright. You can eas- 
 ily get a divorce, or I'll disappear and send you a death- 
 certificate. You'll never see me again after you say
 
 226 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 go. I can't make you any fairer offer than that, now 
 can I?" 
 
 It was very bitter to her to have to implement her 
 plain statement, but his blind disbelief in it was so evi- 
 dent that, for her own sake, she must try to convince 
 him that she spoke truth, that the dead man's millions 
 were neither for him nor her. And she felt devoutly 
 thankful then that she had taken the step she did to 
 prevent such a contingency as that which now pre- 
 sented itself. Of two grave evils she had unwittingly 
 chosen the lesser. Miles Quaintance's nephew, the 
 man he had never seen and to whom he would yet 
 have sold her, was worse in reality than she had ever 
 imagined him. 
 
 "Hear me, please, Mr. Quaintance," she begged, her 
 glance once more meeting his so steadily that his eyes 
 dropped again in spite of himself, "and try to believe 
 what I say. I have no desire to deceive you. I want 
 you to understand why I married the Due des Reves." 
 
 He uttered an impatient ejaculation, but she con- 
 tinued quietly. 
 
 "It was only six months after my education was fin- 
 ished that I heard of Mr. Miles Quaintance's death. I 
 was here, in Paris, then. He had bidden me remain 
 until he could come over and take me back with him to 
 San Francisco. With the news came his letter explain- 
 ing that he had offered me to you in marriage. I 
 don't know whether you can realize how I felt about 
 that, but I made up my mind at that moment that no 
 power on earth would induce me to marry you. And, 
 to make my resolution still safer, I married the Due 
 des Reves. 
 
 "He was a poor cavalry officer then, and I did not
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 227 
 
 know he would ever inherit a title. I was little more 
 than a school-girl, and I thought I cared for him. 
 That seemed sufficient to me. I left the house in which 
 I was living, ostensibly to sail for America but really to 
 meet him. We were married immediately, and you will 
 find record of that fact in the registers of the Ar- 
 rondissement de 1'Elysee and at the church of St. Yves- 
 de-Suresne." 
 
 She started back, said no more, for Seager had 
 sprung to his feet, was glaring at her with murderous 
 malevolence. Arendsen had raised clenched hands, his 
 white teeth showed between his black beard and mous- 
 tache like those of a wild beast. Both men were stirred 
 to a degree of passion incomprehensible to her. She 
 did not know how utterly her simple words had dashed 
 hopes on which they had been building so assuredly 
 that these had come to assume the shape of certainties 
 in their eyes. 
 
 "You did that on purpose to prevent me getting 
 my share of the estate !" said Seager in a choked snarl, 
 his fingers working. "You lined your own nest and 
 shut me outside to starve!" 
 
 "I did what self-respect dictated," she answered 
 boldly, anger against his obvious baseness lending her 
 courage. 
 
 "Curse self-respect of that sort!" he cried hotly. 
 "You've robbed me of my birthright, that's what you've 
 done. Ain't I a better man than the damned Due des 
 Reves? You've cut your own throat, to spite me, 
 that's what you've done. And you know it as well as 
 I do." 
 
 He raved and raged, almost beside himself, till 
 Arendsen, less noisy if no less dangerous, came forward
 
 228 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 and roughly silenced him. Fanchette's eyes turned 
 longingly to the door, but he saw that and dragged the 
 other toward it without loss of time. Seager was too 
 bewildered to object, and presently the trembling 
 women heard the key turned in the lock outside, the 
 outer door was also made fast, and shuffling footsteps 
 died away on the stair. They threw themselves down 
 on the couch, and cried forlornly in each other's arms, 
 so heavy had the strain upon their nerves been. 
 
 Seager and Arendsen fought their side of the ques- 
 tion out by candle-light in one of the lower rooms. The 
 latter was less downcast than his ally by the disclosures 
 they had listened to, and whose sincerity neither of 
 them could doubt. He had already a fresh move to 
 counsel, did not despair entirely of late success. He 
 was a more assiduous scoundrel than his companion. 
 
 "No, the game's not up yet, you fool !" he inter- 
 rupted, after listening dearly for a time to Seager's 
 futile imprecations. 
 
 "Shut your head, or talk sense. You'll have more 
 cause to yelp after it is up and if you fail to make good. 
 Don't forget who's staking you. Think less about 
 yourself." 
 
 "What can we do now?" asked the other querulously. 
 "The joker's played against us. We haven't a card 
 left." 
 
 Arendsen tugged at his beard, and blinked at the 
 candle, frowning. He was counting the chances that 
 remained, and saw more than one. 
 
 "Why don't you think, instead of talking," he asked 
 angrily. "I'll give you a start. What's to hinder us 
 finding out whether this Due of hers won't stand in 
 with us. There are ten millions to go round, and most
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 229 
 
 of those fellows would sell their souls for a third of 
 that. We might upset the marriage, get him to disown 
 it there are half a dozen cards left to play if you'd only 
 get busy and pick them out. 
 
 "Now what was she doing all by herself in America, 
 eh? Had they separated already? There might be 
 something in that !" 
 
 Seager stared at him, with the dawning of renewed 
 hope in his eyes. 
 
 "Gad, you're great, Dirck," he said. "We'll go 
 straight up and ask her. Then we'll tackle the Due. 
 If he'd only sit in with us, it would be easy money all 
 round, and come on. We'll go straight up and ask 
 her." 
 
 When they knocked at the studio door again no an- 
 swer was vouchsafed them, but they found their pris- 
 oners safe enough when they entered, and both on their 
 feet, defiant. 
 
 "I'm sorry I spoke so so sharply just now," Seager 
 said addressing himself to the Duchesse, "and Mr. 
 Arendsen has almost convinced me that you are really 
 the Duchesse des Reves. But what were you doing 
 alone in America, so soon after your wedding, eh?" 
 
 He looked at her cunningly, as though that were a 
 weak point in her story, and she fell into the trap, 
 flushing painfully as she explained the reason which 
 had led her to leave her husband within an hour of her 
 marriage. She was hopeful that, once they were satis- 
 fied of the validity of her position, they would release 
 her and give up whatever wild project they had enter- 
 tained. But in that she was doomed to quick disap- 
 pointment, for Seager informed her with much as- 
 sumed sympathy that she must stay where she was un-
 
 230 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 til he should have absolute proof in support of her 
 statements, alleging solicitude for her welfare as his 
 moving impulse. 
 
 "I'll find out everything about this Due des Reves 
 within twenty-four hours," he assured her, "and then, if 
 all's well, you'll go back to him none the worse of 
 knowing that he's treated you on the square which is 
 more than he's done in a good many cases. It's my 
 plain duty to see you safe before I leave Paris, so you 
 needn't thank me. 
 
 "Meantime you'll be quite comfortable here, and we 
 shan't disturb you again till late to-morrow. Nothing 
 more I can do for you? Good-night, then, and pleas- 
 ant dreams." 
 
 "I turned that rather neatly, I think," he told Arend- 
 sen as they went back to their own quarters, "and, I'll 
 tell you what, Dirck I feel that I need a quencher. 
 I'll run round to the Blue Rabbit for one, and be back 
 before you can " 
 
 "We'll go together," said Arendsen gruffly and 
 knowing that it would be vain to object. "And we 
 needn't come back here to-night. The sooner we 
 strike the Due's trail the better, and he's sure to be a 
 night-bird." 
 
 They spent half an hour in the brasserie, and do 
 what he would, he could not prevent Seager, whose 
 spirits were once more rising with undue rapidity, from 
 pushing through to the concert hall where he claimed 
 acquaintance with two young men at one of the tables. 
 At that moment also their useful friend Jules Chevrel 
 looked in, and afflicted Arendsen for ten long min- 
 utes with specious reasons for his presence there at 
 that hour. And then, when he at length got Seageti
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 231 
 
 quietly outside, that jovial blade insisted on returning 
 to the studio forthwith, there to claim a kiss which, he 
 alleged, his cousin had owed him since the occasion of 
 his first meeting with her. It was with the greatest 
 difficulty and at the exercise of all the patience on 
 which he plumed himself that Arendsen finally got his 
 fellow-ruffian to start with him on the trail of the Due 
 des Reves.
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 THE STRANGE ENCOUNTER THAT TOOK PLACE IN THE 
 BRASSERIE OF THE BLUE RABBIT 
 
 Within the grand reception room at the Elysee, in 
 the midst of the brilliant throng gathered there, 
 Quaintance stood swaying, with bent knees, like one on 
 shipboard, as if he would presently collapse altogether. 
 
 "Hold up, old chap!" said O'Ferral anxiously. 
 "Hold up! Don't lose your head, or you'll make a 
 scene." 
 
 His warning proved efficaious where words more 
 weighty might well have failed in their object. Quaint- 
 ance had all a quiet man's horror of what is described 
 as a scene, and, to escape such mischance, he braced 
 his slack muscles, threw back his head, stood erect, 
 gazing, half blind, across a sea of color, to where he 
 could see dimly on its surface that fair face for which 
 he had staked everything, and lost. 
 
 For that was what it had come to now. He had 
 yielded entirely to a fond infatuation which had whis- 
 pered that he must achieve success at all hazard, that 
 he could not fail. He called to mind how he had once 
 told the girl, on the sunkissed sands at Stormport, that 
 he never failed ->nd had to choke back the groan which 
 had almost escaped his lips. He had failed so abjectly 
 in this most essential instance. He had strained every 
 power to the uttermost, and with this result. He felt 
 
 232
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 233 
 
 as though the main-spring of life had snapped within 
 him. 
 
 But tragedy must wear the mask of mirth in modern 
 society, and there was nothing to be gained by crying 
 for the moon. His dream was shattered, and although 
 in its downfall he was suffering hurt almost beyond en- 
 durance, he could still set his teeth, repress the out- 
 ward signs of his great inward agony. His dainty 
 duchess had recrossed his path, as he had prayed she 
 might, but now there was a real duke with her! She 
 was no more the blushing maid in whom his fondest 
 hopes of happiness were centered, but a grave bride 
 with an unsmiling groom beside her! It was time to 
 write finis on that page and turn a fresh one, on 
 which he would pen rapidly the story of a wasted life. 
 
 O'Ferral darted a swift, side-long glance at him, and 
 was relieved to see that, but for an ashen greyness of 
 the face which might pass presently, he had regained 
 his self-control. The Due des Reves and his young 
 wife were coming that way. 
 
 Congratulations were being showered upon them at 
 every hand. And, even as Monsieur had foreseen, it 
 was taken for granted that he had brought the Ameri- 
 can beauty over from her own country with him on his 
 return to France. All Paris, from his point of view, 
 had gathered in the spacious salons of the Elysee. His 
 debut as a married man could not well have been made 
 under auspices more propitious. And, yet, through it 
 all, both he and Madame la Duchesse were strangely 
 quiet and constrained. 
 
 As they came slowly nearer to where Ouaintance 
 was standing stiffly against his pillar, some forceful in- 
 fluence drew the bride's sombre blue eyes past the men
 
 234 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 and women crowding about her to his. She started. 
 A shiver shook her from head to foot and her pale 
 cheeks flushed. 
 
 By what fatality had this man appeared a second 
 time to see her do public penance for fault that was 
 none of hers! And she had been hoping so earnestly 
 that she might meet no known face when she first went 
 forth with her husband ! 
 
 Quaintance would fain have averted his glance, but 
 he could not. She bowed to him since she must either 
 do that or ignore him. He bent his head in acknowl- 
 edgment, while Monsieur, who had noticed his wife's 
 quick tremor, traced that to its apparent cause, re- 
 garded him under down-drawn eyebrows. 
 
 They came still nearer upon the tide, and Quaint- 
 ance made no least move. The Duchesse passed close 
 to him. She looked up into his haggard face, and her 
 lips trembled a little, their corners drooped, at what 
 she saw therein. But she spoke, in that warm, sweet 
 voice of hers, a brave smile in her own eyes that were 
 dark blue now, like the deeper sea which hides so 
 many sad secrets. 
 
 "It was very good of you to pardon our escapade 
 with your car," she said swiftly, but offering no expla- 
 nation thereof since any such must have been at Fan- 
 chette's expense. "I am sorry you had so much trouble 
 about the bracelet. You got my message?" 
 
 He bowed again, in assent, unable, strive as he 
 might, to find words with which to reply fittingly. She 
 moved away with her husband, and no more was said. 
 She had not offered to introduce the one to the other, 
 and Monsieur, knowing no English, was none too welt 
 pleased. He judged all men by his own old standards, 
 and those had been low ones.
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 235 
 
 Others also had noticed the tall, distinguished-look- 
 ing American who had evoked the first sign of interest 
 in her surroundings shown by his lovely compatriot 
 since she had entered the salon. He was looking lin- 
 geringly after his lost duchess as she passed onward 
 out of his life. 
 
 "I'm going away now, O'Ferral," he repeated shak- 
 ily. "You'll make my excuses to Madame Cornoyer. 
 Tell her I'm seedy, or something. I'm going away." 
 
 "The very best thing you can do," commented 
 O'Ferral, who had observed Monsieur looking back at 
 his friend. "Avoid the fire, since you've burned your 
 fingers, and, say, Steve, I wouldn't do anything silly 
 if I were you." 
 
 "I'm a fool," said Quaintance drearily, "but not that 
 sort, O'Ferral. And my name's Newman, not Steve." 
 
 They separated with a nod of understanding, but 
 Quaintance had not yet made his escape when Cor- 
 noyer appeared escorting his mother with that bland 
 air of extreme decorum for which he was justly famous. 
 Quaintance chatted for a few moments with them, and 
 then told Madame that he must go, alleging an insup- 
 portable headache. 
 
 "You don't look at all well," she said with quick 
 sympathy, and her son's countenance became suddenly 
 overcast. 
 
 "With your permission," said he plaintively, "I shall 
 take this poor sick man to his apartment. Monsieur 
 O'Ferral here, he will take great care of you till I re- 
 turn. O'Ferral, I go to the'drug store of the Blue Rab- 
 bit there to buy antipyrin for Mister Newman. Con- 
 duct yourself judiciously with my mother." 
 
 He bowed with great formality, and, before Quaint- 
 ance could protest against so much self-sacrifice,
 
 236 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 Madame had passed on with O'Ferral, Cornoyer was 
 urging him toward a side door through which they 
 made an inconspicuous exit. 
 
 "The Old Dutch will not stay here long," explained 
 that youth with solemn complaisance. "She too is 
 much bored by all this tomfoolishness. And then, per- 
 haps, O'Ferral will come to the Blue Rabbit also, where 
 they sell antipyrin frappe to cure sore heads." 
 
 Quaintance paid no heed to his chatter, and followed 
 him almost without volition. It mattered little how 
 he passed his time now, and he was glad of other com- 
 pany than the grey ghosts of his dead hopes. He had 
 been dreading to go back alone, while these still 
 mocked and mowed at his shoulders, to the empty 
 rooms in the Rue St. Roch. He found himsef in a 
 cab, which had carried him over the river and down 
 the long Boulevard St. Germain, before he at length 
 awoke with a start to the consciousness that he had 
 come thither unwittingly. 
 
 "D'you know where the Due des Reves lives, J. J. ?" 
 he asked, unconcernedly as he could, and interrupting 
 without ceremony the other's ceaseless flow of re- 
 marks. 
 
 "He lives in the Rue St. Honore, that chenapan. But 
 he has also a shack over here in the Faubourg. The 
 hotel des Reves it is there, see! That one. Hey! 
 cabby. Hold on a minute." 
 
 Quaintance looked out at the massive mansion, and 
 his heart was hot within him. It was there that his 
 dear duchess of dreams would live out her life, amid 
 splendor and luxury far beyond anything he could have 
 offered her. The great wrought-iron gates which 
 guarded the carriage entrance stood wide, and he could
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 237 
 
 see into a spacious court-yard, aglow with the rich light 
 of many lamps, a balustraded terrace about it from 
 which rose tier upon tier of glistening windows. The 
 place was a palace in miniature. He hoped that the 
 duchess would be happy there. 
 
 "Des Reves is blowing himself on gas!" Cornoyer 
 observed in a puzzled tone. "I wonder what's up. He 
 has not lived on this side of the river since his old man 
 kicked the bucket." 
 
 "How long has he been married?" asked Quaintance 
 abruptly. 
 
 "He isn't married." 
 
 "It must have been very lately then," Quaintance 
 cogitated still more ruefully. "He's married, J. J., and 
 to an American girl. The Duchesse des Reves was 
 with him at the Elysee to-night." 
 
 Cornoyer's face became instantly expressive of pain- 
 fully astonished and, at the same time, sympathetic sur- 
 prise. He was a perspicacious young man, and much 
 that had been obscure in connection with Quaintance's 
 recent erratic movements was clear to him now. A 
 woman was at the bottom of it, as usual. And heart- 
 ache was worse than headache. 
 
 It was all no business of his. He could not inter- 
 fere. But he had known the old due and knew the 
 young he felt very sorry for the Duchesse: and for 
 Quaintance. 
 
 A scarlet motor car entered the court-yard as they 
 drove on again. Cornoyer looked after it curiously, 
 but it held only the chauffeur. And silence obtained 
 in the cab till it drew up before the Blue Rabbit. 
 
 "What on earth did you bring me here for?" asked 
 jQuaintance somewhat irritably, and stopped on the un-
 
 238 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 even sidewalk to study with growing distaste the 
 shabby exterior of the brasserie, the gloomy-looking, 
 unlighted fronts of the buildings which flanked it. 
 
 "To cure your headache," Cornoyer answered as- 
 suredly. "Come on in. If you don't like it we'll go 
 away." 
 
 Quaintance buttoned up his overcoat, lest his even- 
 ing clothes should make him unnecessarily conspicuous 
 in such a plebeian resort, but Cornoyer took no such 
 precaution. He pushed boldly past the curtained doors 
 which led from the empty brasserie into a much more 
 roomy chamber beyond, confronted without embar- 
 rassment the festive assemblage gathered about the 
 marble-topped tables there and which broke into up- 
 roarious acclamation as they appeared. 
 
 "Do not take any notice of them," he advised, his 
 own features of a ferocious gravity, and led the way to 
 an unoccupied table half way down the long, dimly 
 lighted hall, where they were immediately provided 
 with two foot-high steins of Munchener, and having 
 quaffed these, standing, to the health of the other rev- 
 ellers, were forthwith free of the guild and to follow 
 their own devices. 
 
 Quaintance had never been in the Brasserie of the 
 Blue Rabbit before, although he had known the Latin 
 Quarter intimately in his student days, and it stood 
 within half a mile of the School of Mines. But he recol- 
 lected that they had reached it through various frowsy 
 lanes, that it stood well apart from the beaten track. 
 
 "What street's this ?" he asked Cornoyer. 
 
 "This is not a street," answered that solemn-visaged 
 young man. "It is the Impasse de Paradis, where we 
 have come to hear some angels singing."
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 239. 
 
 The atmosphere of the Blue Rabbit seemed more 
 appropriate to fiends than angels, so smoke-thick was. 
 it. The unceiled oaken rafters were wreathed in a 
 heavy cloud, and the robes of those angels already 
 present would certainly reek of tobacco upon the mor- 
 row. Some of them wore robes, too, which it would 
 cost a large sum to replace, and which became them 
 marvellously. 
 
 From enshadowed alcoves shone clear, bright eyes, 
 and pearly teeth flashed smiles as Quaintance looked 
 dully about him. The swish and the frou-frou of silk 
 and satin were audible over the rippling tumult of 
 voices, the lace and the lingerie liberally displayed on 
 all sides were of the most luxurious. Here was no 
 cheap cafe-concert of the Quartier, but a sudden resort 
 of the smart set in search of a new sensation and thrilled, 
 with the perilous pleasures of outvieing even the 
 dames du trottoir in the exposure of their more intimate 
 charms. 
 
 Most of the men were also in evening dress, and as 
 much at their ease as the waiters shuffling about irt 
 dirty shirt-sleeves with steins by the dozen. 
 
 It was the correct thing to drink only beer at the 
 Brasserie of the Blue Rabbit. And, that no least touch 
 of realism might be lacking in their make-believe, the 
 proffer and acceptance of a stein was introduction suffi- 
 cient to any one of its frequenters. No names need ever 
 be mentioned, and all acquaintance was understood to 
 cease at the outward threshold. 
 
 So much Quaintance gleaned from Cornoyer in an- 
 swer to his idle questions before midnight chimed musi- 
 cally from the near belfry of Notre Dame. And, as 
 the bells ceased, an answering carillon was struck upon,
 
 240 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 the concert grand at one end of the long room, the 
 talk and laughter died down, the entertainment pro- 
 vided for the expectant patrons of the Blue Rabbit 
 began. 
 
 It p'roved far better than Quaintance had anticipated. 
 For among the idle rich who formed the bulk of the 
 gathering there were those who had great gifts which 
 they squandered thus. A woman sang, most divinely. A 
 young girl danced, unashamed, till the seventh of the 
 Seven Veils had slipped from her slender body. A 
 man with a weary, cynical face, made such music on a 
 violin that, after he sat down again, there was no sound 
 to be heard save the tick of the clock outside in the 
 Brasserie. And time passed unheeded. 
 
 Another rose, a tall, lissom slip of a girl, all in white, 
 and crossed, laughing, to the piano. Quaintance sat 
 back and closed his eyes as her velvet contralto called 
 up a vision which he would fain have forgotten for that 
 brief interval, the words that she voiced so sweetly 
 brought an added ache to his heart, a hurtful echo of 
 his own dear-bought experience. 
 
 "Plaisir d'amour ne dure u'un moment : 
 Chagrin d'amour dure toute la vie ..." 
 
 He would fain have forgotten, but 
 
 He was recalled to a perfunctory interest in his sur- 
 roundings by the prolonged applause bestowed on the 
 singer, through which there came to his ears a strange 
 yet familiar voice loudly raised in greeting, and he saw 
 a hand fall heavily on Cornoyer's shoulder. 
 
 "Hello, J. J. ! Still seeing life, eh? Quite like old 
 times to run across you here. Make room for me I'm
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 241 
 
 going to buy you boys drinks. Hey, gargon ? A quart 
 of Heidsieck and three big glasses. Three, yes, three, 
 dummkopf!" 
 
 Cornoyer shook hands, rather limply and since he 
 could not very well help himself, with this boisterous 
 newcomer, in whom Quaintance recognized his own 
 namesake, the man he had first seen in Cornoyer's 
 company at the Cornucopia Club in New York. He 
 was dressed for motoring, and looked more prosperous 
 now than he had at that date, an appearance he imple- 
 mented unnecessarily by producing a bundle of bills, of 
 which he made a great display. 
 
 "Who's your friend, J. J. ?" he demanded, but Cor- 
 noyer was conveniently deaf, and shook his head when 
 the waiter brought the champagne round to him. 
 
 "Oh, come on, fill up!" the other insisted. "Just 
 this one round. I've some one waiting for me in all 
 sorts of a hurry. And maybe you won't have another 
 chance, for I'm going to get married, J. J., my boy! 
 You never saw such a peach of a girl as I've got on a 
 string upstairs, and we'll both be rolling in money. 
 See this wad? Want half of it? Say the word and it's 
 yours! Lots more where that came from." 
 
 Quaintance saw that he was not as sober as he miglit 
 have been, and paid no attention to what he said fur- 
 ther. He was in the midst of some huskily confidential 
 communication to Cornoyer when an irascible-looking 
 man with a big black beard and moustache bore down 
 on him from the doorway, reproached him hotly for 
 wasting his time thus. He rose, sulkily querulous but 
 obedient, once more shook hands, and departed un- 
 steadily in the wake of his masterful companion. 
 
 Cornoyer scowled at his back as he went.
 
 242 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 "I wish they had kept that fellow in jail in New 
 York," he muttered. "Let us go home now, Newman. 
 Another night we can come back here and see some 
 more high-lifers playing the fool." 
 
 They passed through the deserted brasserie, and 
 stepping into the alley, Quaintance looked right and 
 left to see how the land lay. Standing there while Cor- 
 noyer went back to buy cigarettes, he caught sight of 
 two dim figures at the blind end of the Impasse, recog- 
 nized in them his unworthy namesake and that indi- 
 vidual's black-bearded friend. They seemed to be en- 
 gaged in angry argument, and the latter once more 
 gained his point. They turned away from the low door 
 at which they were standing, passed rapidly, without 
 noticing him in the shadow, and turned the corner into 
 a cross-street. Quaintance lit a eigar expeditiously, 
 and started with Cornoyer to find a cab. 
 
 "How is the sorehead now?" asked that astute gen- 
 tleman as they drove across the silent Isle de la Cite. 
 ""I saw a duchess at the Blue Rabbit, but not the 
 Duchesse des Reves. There are plenty of peaches in 
 Paris, Newman, and even that first-water cad of a 
 Quaintance has found one to marry him the same girl 
 he made to kiss him before he would mend her auto- 
 mobile." 
 
 "Who?" asked Quaintance stupidly. 
 
 "The one that he told us about at the club in New 
 York when you and O'Ferral were so cross with me." 
 
 Quaintance stared at him through the darkness, un- 
 able to understand. 
 
 "But how the devil can he marry her if she's the 
 Duchesse des Reves already?" he demanded explo-
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 243 
 
 sively, forgetting in his own bewilderment that Cor- 
 noyer knew nothing of her. 
 
 "I bought the Duchesse's car from her before she 
 left the other side," he explained rapidly, "and that's 
 how I came to know that it was he who held her up in 
 it. But she didn't kiss him." 
 
 "Of course not," Cornoyer remarked cheerfully. "I 
 did not believe him. He's always too soused to know 
 what he says. Forget him." 
 
 "Tell me all you know about him, J. J.," Quaintance 
 begged, his mind full of dark and deadly suspicions. 
 "Who is he? Where does he hail from? What did 
 he tell you to-night?" 
 
 "His name is Quaintance," Cornoyer replied readily, 
 "Stephen Quaintance. He told me when I first met 
 him he had just come from Africa to New York to 
 marry his cousin because she was a millionairess. He 
 told me a lot of hot air too about his travels where he 
 could get a lot of rose-diamonds whenever he wanted 
 to, and so on. To-night he said he had found her and 
 she was a peach the same one he told us about at 
 the club. And so he is going to marry her. 
 
 "But how is he going to do that, if Des Reves has 
 married her first, eh? 
 
 "He's a damned imposter!" cried Quaintance, his 
 mind made up on that one point at least, and quite un- 
 able to contain himself. Cornoyer looked at him in 
 surprise, so strained and tense was his tone. 
 
 "He's a damned impostor! He's impersonating an- 
 other man. I must do something to stop it. 
 
 "I knew Stephen Quaintance," he went on excitedly, 
 "and that scoundrel's trying to pass for him. If you 
 see him again, Cornoyer, find out where he lives and
 
 244 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 let me know without a moment's delay. It's a matter 
 of the most urgent importance to me. I'll tell you the 
 rest of the trouble some other time. Here's the Rue 
 St. Roch. I won't ask you in I must talk it all over 
 with O'Ferral first, and " 
 
 He shook hands hastily, jumped out as the cab 
 stopped at his door. 
 
 "You won't forget, J. J.," he urged anxiously. "It 
 will be the very greatest favor that you can do me to 
 let me know where I can lay hands on that fellow." 
 
 He ran upstairs, his mind in a frenzy. Could it be 
 possible that Miles Quaintance's adopted daughter was 
 now the Duchesse des Reves! That were surely too 
 cruel an irony of blind fate, and yet judging by all he 
 knew, it seemed but too probable. 
 
 He clattered into O'Ferral's rooms in an agony of 
 belated enlightenment. But they were empty. He 
 found on his own parlor table a note from his friend 
 which said, "Have been called away. Don't know when 
 I may get back."
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 THE PRODIGAL GOES BACK TO HIS HUSKS AT THE 
 
 BRISTOL 
 
 "May I telephone in the morning to inquire how 
 you are?" the Due des Reves asked wistfully of his wife 
 as he bade her good-night in the corridor of the Elysee 
 opposite the ladies' boudoir. There he met her when 
 she had arrived at the palace, and she had forbidden 
 him to see her further on her departure, not caring to 
 afford him opportunity for any less public leave-taking. 
 
 "Yes, if you wish to do so," she answered without 
 much interest, and, having bowed to him, went her 
 way. 
 
 He watched the straight, slender figure disappear 
 down the broad passage, the pale silk cloak she wore 
 outlined against the crimson carpet between two 
 thickets of green plants overtopped by tall palms. And 
 then he turned reluctantly back to the salon, to spend 
 another half hour there as he had promised her that he 
 would. It hurt him that she should deem necessary 
 such precaution against his following her, and yet he 
 could not blame her. He would prove to her presently 
 that she might henceforth trust him even as he was 
 ready to trust her. 
 
 He had been greatly gratified by the reception they 
 had met at the hands of society, knowing how little he 
 himself had done to earn any but the most frigid toler- 
 
 245
 
 246 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 ance. Their first evening together had been a great 
 success to all outward seeming, and beyond that he 
 need not yet aspire. In time he would show his world 
 that even such a prodigal as he had been might make 
 a model husband, and at the moment he must baffle 
 its curiosity as to the wife for whose sweet sake he had 
 undertaken that radical change. He stayed for a full 
 half-hour, meeting inquiries and congratulations alike 
 with a bland courtesy which irritated his former inti- 
 mates to a degree. 
 
 When he reached his rooms in the Rue St. Honore, 
 Jules Chevrel was absent and that annoyed him. A 
 sudden distaste of the over-luxurious atmosphere there 
 overcame him. It was too reminiscent of much that he 
 would fain have forgotten. He resolved, in his new- 
 found ambition, to give them up, and also to rid him- 
 self of Chevrel at the first opportunity. The fellow 
 knew far too much about him, had of late grown very 
 insolent in his knowledge. And, rather than incur de- 
 lay in his own reformation, he would remove from that 
 place of evil memories on the instant. He found a 
 suit-case, was packing it with his own hands, when 
 Jules came sauntering in from the garage where he had 
 been cleaning the car which Seager had just redeliv- 
 ered. 
 
 Jules looked contemptuously at his employer's prep- 
 arations. He had anticipated some stupidity of the 
 sort, so changed had Monsieur shown himself since his 
 brief visit to the Rue des Trois Freres. He had further 
 foreseen that it would not suit him to stay in Mon- 
 sieur's service, and when his first impertinent remark 
 'earned him immediate dismissal he merely smiled with 
 supercilious indifference.
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 247 
 
 "It is to be supposed that Monsieur does not mean 
 to turn me into the street at this hour?" said he. 
 
 "You may remain until I remove the furniture," the 
 Due replied briefly, and set out, carrying his own suit- 
 case, servantless, to an hotel. Jules still smiled sar- 
 donically. 
 
 "He has the swelled head with this new wife of his !" 
 said that observer of events. "Well, we shall see what 
 happens. I have my thirty thousand francs, and it 
 would be interesting to catch another glimpse of 
 Madame's wealthy friends. They may be more conv- 
 municative since their expensive interview. I'll take 
 a cab to the Blue Rabbit on the chance of running 
 across them there." 
 
 The Due slept badly in unaccustomed quarters, and 
 missed Jules' ministrations in the morning, as Jules had 
 known he would. But he refrained from calling for his 
 former servant, as he was much inclined to do, and 
 spent the forenoon in aimless anticipation of the time 
 when he might telephone the hotel des Reves. That 
 came at last and he rang up, asking that Madame la 
 Dttchesse might speak with him. When he was told 
 that she had not returned since leaving the hotel the 
 night before, his heart almost stopped beating. 
 
 He called up the head of the household, and had swift 
 perquisition made into all that had happened since she 
 had first arrived there from the Rue des Trois Freres. 
 He was told that her maid had gone to the Elysee for 
 her, in his own motor because one of the only carriage- 
 pair had fallen suddenly sick and was now dead, but 
 neither mistress nor maid had from that moment been 
 heard of. He cut the hotel des Reves off, and called 
 up his garage. The chauffeur knew nothing. He had
 
 248 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 been off duty, by Monsieur's permission, on the previ- 
 ous evening. The car in question had certainly not 
 been used. It was clean now as he had left it. Mon- 
 sieur called up the Elysee, and begged speech with the 
 groom of the gateway there. The groom of the gate- 
 way remembered distinctly that Madame la Duchesse 
 had driven off in a scarlet auto instead of the carriage 
 and pair expected. No, he had not noticed the chauf- 
 feur particularly. Then the Due called up the Palais 
 de Justice and asked for Tissot-Latour. But, before 
 that delighted official had even got to the 'phone, he 
 changed his mind as to the advisability of confiding in 
 the Quai des Orfe"vres and merely invited him to call 
 at the Rue St. Honore as soon as he could spare time 
 that afternoon. M. Tissot-Latour thought he might 
 leave his desk soon after four, and was cut off in the 
 midst of a long harangue. And, lastly, the white-lipped 
 man who had stayed so long in the asphyxiating sound 
 and air-proof booth at the hotel bureau called up his 
 own apartment, whence he was answered by Jules 
 Chevrel, who made no comment when he was in- 
 formed that he was reinstated in employment, and bid- 
 den to come round to the hotel without delay. As 
 he strolled toward the Bristol at his leisure, he mut- 
 tered to himself, "Something has happened between 
 them. And so soon! I wonder what?" 
 
 He found Monsieur in a state bordering on distrac- 
 tion, and started in unfeigned astonishment when he 
 was told the reason. 
 
 "Madame has left me, Jules," said the Due in a 
 hoarse whisper which was the best voice he could mus- 
 ter. "She did not return to the hotel des Reves from 
 the Elysee. You must help me to find her again."
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 249 
 
 Jules Chevrel's face darkened. So this was why 
 those Americans had been so liberal ! And he who had 
 acted as chauffeur, the tall, fair man who called him- 
 self Stephen Quaintance, had told him that Madame 
 had been safely delivered at her destination. They had 
 misled him, had tricked him, and A dazzling in- 
 spiration entered his mind. He almost chuckled to 
 think how fortune's wheel had revolved since the day 
 on which that other American beast had thrown him 
 into the sea at Rockaway Beach. It seemed that he 
 might now revenge himself condignly for that still rank- 
 ling insult. For it was none other than his aggressor 
 whom he had observed overnight in the concert-hall 
 of the Blue Rabbit at the same table with the chauffeur, 
 Stephen Quaintance. He would teach all those per- 
 fidious foreigners that they could not make a fool of 
 a Frenchman and go scot-free. But he must be wary 
 lest Monsieur should learn the part he himself had 
 played with regard to the car. 
 
 He expressed most respectful sympathy with his em- 
 ployer over such an altogether unlocked for misfor- 
 tune. 
 
 "It is but right to assume," he went on, "that 
 Madame la Duchesse has not disappeared of her own 
 free will. Has Monsieur noticed any acquaintance of 
 hers in her neighborhood?" 
 
 Monsieur was on his feet in an instant, striding to 
 and fro in the spacious bedroom. He had indeed no- 
 ticed what the perspicacious Jules had suggested, and 
 that no later than last night at the Elysee. He told the 
 cunning valet some part of what he had observed there, 
 and that rascal was inwardly transported although he 
 had listened with great outward gravity.
 
 250 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 "It may be then that I can offer Monsieur a clue," 
 he declared. "The gentleman Monsieur describes was 
 seen with Madame in America. I caught a glimpse of 
 him yesterday at Auteuil. Late last night I saw him 
 in company with two others at a cafe, and one of the 
 others wore motor clothing, a complete chauffeur's 
 outfit. It almost looks as though they had abducted 
 Madame !" 
 
 The Due gnashed his teeth in a passion of impotent 
 anger. He had not told Jules of Madame's quick emo- 
 tion at sight of her countryman, how she had greeted 
 him, or that the stalwart American had left the palace 
 immediately after. A most poisonous suspicion was 
 penetrating his mind. He had just remembered that 
 she had insisted upon leaving by herself, forbidden him 
 to see her to her carriage. And at that instant all his 
 good resolutions deserted him. He could see clearly 
 then how he had been tricked by the one woman he 
 had ever trusted. 
 
 "Get me a pint of champagne, quickly, Jules," he 
 commanded, "and a glass of cognac to go with it." 
 
 As Jules left the room, he threw himself down 
 on the bed, covered his face with two twitching hands. 
 
 What a fool he had been, to believe that women were 
 any better than men! And she had taken him in so 
 easily! All she wanted, of course, was to free herself 
 of police surveillance, so that she might go back to the 
 man who had followed her from America. What was 
 he to do now? Put the matter into the hands of the 
 police, and so incur public exposure? No, that would 
 not do. It would not help him to have her brought 
 back a prisoner. Did he want her back at all, since 
 she had thus cruelly killed his nascent faith in her flaw- 
 lessness? He did not know.
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 251 
 
 He hastily swallowed the heady liquor Jules brought 
 him, curtly bade that still respectfully sympathetic 
 schemer remove his belongings back to the Rue St. 
 Honore, and left the room, almost too sorely stricken 
 to think, not caring whither he went, but with murder 
 for latent motive. And, as he walked, with bent head, 
 down the vestibule of the hotel on his way out into the 
 sunshine, Quaintance came up the steps toward him, 
 arm in arm with Cornoyer and in a mood no less reck- 
 less. 
 
 At sight of him the Due stopped abruptly, and drew 
 a long, hissing breath. Here was opportunity all un- 
 looked for! He must make the most of it. And 
 Quaintance was eyeing him in no friendly fashion, al- 
 though Cornoyer, who knew the Due, had nodded a 
 salutation and would have passed on. 
 
 He intercepted the pair by stepping squarely in front 
 of Quaintance. He had recovered his wits now, in so 
 far as outward conduct was concerned, and knew ex- 
 actly what he must do. 
 
 "The pleasure of a word with Monsieur," he begged, 
 having lifted his hat with great ceremony. 
 
 Quaintance waited, impassive, while Cornoyer re- 
 luctantly drew to one side and the passers by glanced 
 curiously at the two facing each other so stiffly there. 
 
 "Where is Madame, my wife?" demanded the Due, 
 in the same steely and monotonous voice, his chin 
 thrust forward, a fire of hate alight in his narrowed 
 eyes. 
 
 "How the devil do I know where Madame your wife 
 is!" retorted Quaintance, thankful for the excuse to 
 pick quarrel with the roue who had robbed him of his 
 heart's desire. 
 
 The Due struck him, lightly enough, across the
 
 252 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 face, but the voice in which he branded him, "Liar!" 
 rang through the vestibule. It had scarce left his lips 
 when Quaintance returned the blow, but in such wise 
 that his enemy went hurtling against a bystander who 
 had halted in blank amazement, and they both came 
 to earth with a crash. 
 
 Cornoyer sprang forward. Hotel employes clust- 
 ered about the fallen. The vestibule of the severely 
 decorous Bristol evolved a crowd almost as quickly 
 as would have any plebeian tavern in Paris. And in 
 the heart of it stood Quaintance, with clenched fists, 
 wishing he could have got in another blow. Cornoyer 
 had stepped to his elbow, and they remained thus until 
 the Due had rid himself of the irate bystander. 
 
 Then Cornoyer went forward, leaving Quaintance 
 strictly charged to restrain himself, to where the vic- 
 tim of his friend's right arm was quietly stanching a 
 cut chin and striving to convince those who encircled 
 him that he had no further immediate violent intention. 
 He willingly accompanied Cornoyer in the direction of 
 the door, while Quaintance sauntered toward the 
 smoking-room whither they had been bound. The on- 
 lookers seeing them separate thus drifted about their 
 business discontentedly. 
 
 Jules Chevrel, following his employer at a respectful 
 distance, had overseen the encounter from the safe shel- 
 ter of a convenient alcove, and he stayed quietly there 
 till Quaintance had passed out of sight, when he es- 
 caped, suit-case in hand and muttering. With what 
 a butcherly blow had the American savage felled Mon- 
 sieur! Jules trusted that the matter would not be al- 
 lowed to rest there. 
 
 And neither was it. When Cornoyer came back he
 
 r A MILLION A MINUTE 253 
 
 ;wore a look of genuine gravity for the first time since 
 Quaintance had met him, and also spoke in French. 
 
 "M. le Due demands satisfaction," he said. "I told 
 him that you would be quite ready to accord it. May I 
 act for you in the matter?" 
 
 "I hate to drag you in, J. J.," Quaintance told him, 
 
 "but if you don't mind O'Ferral's away, you see, 
 
 and " 
 
 "I'm only too glad to have been on hand. What 
 weapons do you prefer?" 
 
 "I prefer my fists," said Quaintance with good-hu- 
 mored nonchalance. He was on much better terms 
 with the world now than he had been. "But I don't 
 suppose that would suit the other side, so I'll leave it 
 to you, J. J." 
 
 "The Due's a most expert swordsman," Cornoyer 
 stated reflectively. "He'd run you through in a twink- 
 ling, unless you're a first-class fencer." 
 
 "Then we'll strike swords out, old chap. I've played 
 at singlesticks, but not very seriously." 
 
 "He's a dead shot, too," said Cornoyer. 
 
 "He'll be a dead shot when I've done with him," 
 Quaintance asserted grimly. "Better make it guns of 
 some kind, J. J. That will probably be genteel enough 
 to suit him, and I've learned to be handy with most 
 sorts." 
 
 "I gave him your address, and he'll send a friend 
 round between four and five. So I'll be back there 
 with you then, and we'll fix it for to-morrow at dawn 
 if that suits you." 
 
 "Perfectly. The sooner we get it over the better. 
 r And say, J. J., I'd better I don't want to get you into 
 trouble."
 
 254 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 "That is the last thing you must think about," Cor- 
 noye-r replied steadily. 
 
 When M. le Due reached his rooms in the Rue St. 
 Honore, a short walk from the Place Vendome, with 
 his handkerchief to his chin which he had had repaired 
 at a drug-store in passing, he found Tissot-Latour in 
 the act of pushing the bell-button. He had been at a 
 loss to know where to turn for a friend who would not 
 infer too much from the fact that he meant to fight the 
 American to whom all Paris at the Elysee had seen his 
 unsmiling Duchesse both smile and speak. Tissot-La- 
 tour had not been present at the function there. Fur- 
 thermore, this fat vulgarian whom he esteemed so 
 lightly was of sufficient standing in the Prefecture de 
 Police to ensure any friend of his at least a fair chance 
 of escape in case of any such unpleasant complication 
 as would indubitably result from the projected en- 
 counter. 
 
 He therefore greeted his unsuspecting sycophant 
 warmly, apologized for the oversight which had oc- 
 curred in connection with the card for the presidential 
 reception, supplied him with gin-and-vermouth, a mix- 
 ture he much affected, and broached the subject with- 
 out delay. 
 
 Tissot-Latour was too grateful for his kindness to 
 run any risk of curdling it by acceding to his request 
 otherwise than freely. It startled him greatly at first, 
 and his flabby cheeks paled at the mere idea of firearms 
 or almost equally dangerous steel, but, as he rapidly re- 
 flected, duelling was quite a fashionable amusement, 
 seldom resulted in bloodshed beyond a teaspoonful, 
 and it would add enormously to his social prestige to 
 have represented a duke on the field of honor.
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 255 
 
 "But certainly, dear Etienne," he said affectionately, 
 sucking at the cigar his host had tossed him. "Where 
 shall I find this fellow? Rue St. Roch name of Cor- 
 noyer. Any relation to old Cornoyer, formerly of the 
 Foreign Affairs? His son! I shall be glad indeed to 
 act for you." 
 
 "Try to arrange for pistols," the Due suggested, 
 "and you'd better cut round there now. It doesn't 
 do to be late in such affairs." 
 
 "I fly," Tissot-Latour assured him, struggling out of 
 his arm-chair with an effort. 
 
 "Not a word to a soul on the subject," his principal 
 warned him sternly, and he looked downcast. He had 
 counted on some preliminary credit in the circles he 
 frequented, would even have risked official displeasure 
 by letting the newspapers know in advance of his aris- 
 tocratic engagement. 
 
 "If anything's heard about it I'll hold you responsi- 
 ble, the Due continued menacingly. "You'll have 
 plenty of notoriety after it's over." 
 
 "Me, I seek not notoriety," his disappointed second 
 assured him, "nor would I even appear in such an af- 
 fair for any one but you, Etienne." 
 
 He panted round to the Rue St. Roch in the after- 
 noon sunshine, and the concierge there ushered him 
 into the room in which Cornoyer was awaiting him. It 
 did not take Cornoyer long to find out what sort of fel- 
 low he had to deal with, and thereafter all went 
 smoothly, since Tissot-Latour contented himself with 
 agreeing profusely to such arrangements as the other 
 cared to put forward. It was thus settled that the 
 meeting should take place next morning, as soon after 
 dawn as there should be light to shoot by, since the
 
 256 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 weapons were to be pistols, at twenty paces. The 
 place, Verrieres. 
 
 Tissot-Latour was charmed with his colleague's 
 civility, and lingered with some idea of ingratiating 
 himself with him for future effect, but Cornoyer hav- 
 ing got through with the business in hand became sud- 
 denly uncommunicative, and the aspirant to Lis friend- 
 ship was on the point of departure when O'Ferral 
 walked in upon them.
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 
 THE POSTERN IN THE IMPASSE DE PARADIS 
 
 Quaintance had spent some agonizing hours since 
 he had reached the Rue St. Roch at half-past four in 
 the morning and found that O'Ferral was absent. He 
 had been counting on the correspondent for sympathy 
 and counsel in the most heart-breaking predicament 
 which had evolved itself out of his well meant effort to 
 protect Miles Quaintance's adopted daughter from the 
 cruel measures his uncle had devised against her and 
 himself. He would have given his right hand now to 
 revoke the past, since he could not doubt that his 
 scheme had signally miscarried, had recoiled on his own 
 head. 
 
 Neither did he doubt now that the man whom he 
 had first encountered at the Cornucopia, and last, less 
 than an hour ago, at the Blue Rabbit, had somehow 
 managed to possess himself of the identity of that dead 
 Stephen Quaintance who should have been safe in his 
 grave at Yola on the Benue in Africa. And had 
 tracked the girl down with the idea of inducing her to 
 comply with the terms of the will. But that unscru- 
 pulous adventurer had also come too late, since she 
 was wed already. 
 
 That was what hurt beyond all else. The thought 
 that his blind sacrifice had cost him his fair chance of 
 
 257
 
 '258 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 winning the only woman in the world who could now 
 comfort him, her of the pure pale face, the sorrowful 
 blue eyes, the duchess of his dearest dreams whom he 
 had seen his last of as she passed out of his life on a 
 duke's arm. He groaned aloud in the extremity of his 
 regret. 
 
 Ah ! could he but have known in time. He had meant 
 well, but fate, with which he would have interfered, had 
 struck back at him viciously, a cowardly blow, from 
 behind, in the dark. 
 
 He sat down in his own rooms to wait up in case 
 the correspondent should come in. He was still sit- 
 ting there, a cold pipe between his teeth, staring fixedly 
 at the dead fire on the hearth, when a servant came in 
 with coffee at nine o'clock. When Cornoyer called at 
 noon to carry him off to breakfast, he found him in the 
 same attitude, and O'Ferral had not yet returned. 
 
 At sight of Cornoyer, however, he pulled himself to- 
 gether, drank the stale coffee at his elbow, and made 
 a hasty toilet. A cold bath braced his system, and, by 
 the time they had walked as far as the Rue de la 
 Chaussee d'Antin, where they turned into the Paillard, 
 he was once more able to think clearly. And the trend 
 of his thoughts was toward revenge, against the man 
 who had, however unwittingly, come between him and 
 his one hope of happiness. The other, that vulgar 
 scoundrel who was impersonating him, might be 
 brought to book afterwards, since no great harm could 
 meantime result from his machinations. 
 
 Over the breakfast-table he took Cornoyer into his 
 late confidence, telling him briefly the strange story of 
 Stephen Quaintance, his uncle's will, and the girl who 
 iwas now the Duchesse des Reves. And Cornoyer
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 259 
 
 heard him out in astonished silence, had no comment 
 to make when he finished. The situation in which he 
 found himself was so unenviable, and there seemed to 
 be no way out of it. 
 
 Cornoyer told him, somewhat reluctantly and in re- 
 ply to his pointed questions, that the Due des Reves' 
 record was almost as bad as his reputation. He won- 
 dered bitterly how long it would take the Duchesse to 
 find out her husband's character, and let his grudge 
 against the Due grow, unchecked. 
 
 From the restaurant Cornoyer took him to call for 
 a friend at the Bristol and he went, almost without 
 volition, rather than be left alone with his thoughts 
 again. The outcome of their meeting with the chief 
 cause of his mental anguish filled him with an unholy 
 joy. He hurried Cornoyer back to the Rue St. Roch as 
 soon as he decently could, and set him down in O'Fer- 
 ral's apartment to wait the coming of M. le Due's rep- 
 resentative in the matter to be arranged. 
 
 The correspondent expressed no surprise at finding 
 his premises thus occupied in his absence, bu-t nodded 
 a greeting to the young Frenchman and turned into 
 Quaintance's sitting room. He was still wearing the 
 evening clothes and light overcoat in which he had 
 parted from Madame Cornoyer at the palace entrance, 
 was, as always, neat, unruffled, and inconspicuous. 
 Quaintance jumped from his seat as he entered, Cor- 
 noyer, who had at last got rid of Tissot-Latour, close 
 at his heels. 
 
 "Confound you, O'Ferral !" he cried crossly. "Where 
 have you been? I sat up all night expecting you." 
 
 Cornoyer winked warningly from behind, but O'Fer-
 
 26o A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 ral needed no hint as to his friend's unfortunate frame 
 of mind. 
 
 "Been to Havre," he rejoined pleasantly, and, hav- 
 ing helped himself to a drink and a cigar, sat down. 
 "Caught the 12.45 there, and have just got back. Had 
 a hurry call at the last moment to say that I was to go. 
 Only time to send you a line, and here I am. What's 
 doing?" 
 
 Cornoyer came forward and "Well?" asked Quaint- 
 ance. 
 
 "To-morrow, at dawn," said he, "behind a cottage at 
 the edge of the Bois de Verrieres. Pistols, at twenty 
 paces. Two shots." 
 
 "One will be sufficient," commented Quaintance, 
 "but you were quite right to agree to a second, J. J." 
 O'Ferral looked grave. 
 
 "J. J.," he remarked, seeking no superfluous expla- 
 nations, "I want you to do me a favor." 
 
 "Consider it done," replied the other without hesi- 
 tation. 
 
 "I want you to let me take your place to-morrow at 
 dawn." 
 
 "Now, see here," the correspondent continued in def- 
 erence to Cornoyer's disappointment. "I introduced 
 you to Newman, and you must let me take a hand in 
 this trouble. "I'm better situated than you for any 
 affair of the sort, because I have no family. If I had, 
 I'd stand out, as you're going to do to oblige me." 
 
 "All right," agreed Cornoyer with an obvious effort. 
 "If Newman Quaintance doesn't object, have it your 
 own way." 
 
 "I think O'Ferral's right, J. J.," said Quaintance. "I 
 really hate to involve either of you in such a business,
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 261 
 
 but, since I can't help myself, I'll have the one with the 
 fewest ties. I'm in your debt already for all that you've 
 done, and no one could have made neater arrange- 
 ments. You won't be sorry this time to-morrow that 
 you're well out of it." 
 
 Cornoyer still looked glum, but no more was said 
 on that subject and O'Ferral turned to Quaintance with 
 a quick inquiry. 
 
 "You've told J. J. who you were," he exclaimed. 
 "What's been happening?" 
 
 "All my plans have miscarried most damnably," 
 Quaintance explained. "The dead man on whom I be- 
 stowed my identity does not seem to have supported 
 it long. There's a spurious Stephen Quaintance turned 
 up, in the person of that very fellow J. J. had with him 
 at the Cornucopia. We met him again last night, but 
 he'd gone before I found out what his game was. He 
 must have robbed the body of all my papers, and 
 thought that by posing as me he might make his for- 
 tune. 
 
 "But he's just too late. Miles Quaintance's adopted 
 daughter is married already. She is the Duchesse des 
 Reves." 
 
 He was speaking in a slow, impersonal tone, but his 
 listeners could hear through that the hurt he was suf- 
 fering. 
 
 "The Due des Reves gave me to understand a couple 
 of hours ago that his wife had disappeared, and called 
 me a liar because I stated that I did not know where 
 she was. I had never spoken to the man before. To- 
 morrow at dawn he and I are going to settle accounts, 
 on that score and others." 
 
 O'Ferral was regarding him with a deep frown.
 
 262 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 "The Duchesse has disappeared!" he said. "Now 
 that's strange very strange. I saw the Duchesse 
 leave the Elysee last night. I was seeing Madame Cor- 
 noyer into her carriage, and we had to wait for a few 
 seconds while the Duchesse stepped into her car. It 
 was the Due's car she drove off in, I know, but the 
 chauffeur was that same fellow you had at the Cornu- 
 copia, J. J., and who, it seems, is now posing as Stephen 
 Quaintance. I recognized him with some difficulty, but 
 I'll swear that it was he. And perhaps he could tell the 
 Due des Reves something as to the Duchesse's where- 
 abouts. 
 
 "When does the twelvemonth term of the will ex- 
 pire, Steve?" 
 
 Quaintance was on his feet. 
 
 "What date's this?" he muttered. "The sixteenth. 
 It must be to-night. Yes, that's right. I kept a care- 
 ful note in my memory. Time's up at midnight. 
 
 "Damnation! What a fool I was. He must have 
 kidnapped her. I wasn't bothering much about him 
 I thought he was too late to do any harm. I must get 
 after him at once. I saw him and that scoundrel with 
 the black beard at a door in the Impasse de Paradis. 
 I'll try that first. I'll shoot him like a dog if " 
 
 He hurried into his bed-room, muttering threats, 
 and came back charging a revolver. 
 
 "Put that thing down," said O'Ferral in his sternest 
 voice, his back against the door whither he had sprung 
 in quick precaution. 
 
 "Listen to me, Steve, or I'll lock you in here till you 
 learn sense. Where's this Impasse de Paradis? Ex- 
 plain the thing coherently and we'll sort it all out by; 
 degrees. Your methods will only make it worse."
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 263 
 
 Quaintance looked at him with a puzzled scowl, but 
 that soon cleared before the correspondent's steady 
 eyes, and he related the circumstance of which the 
 others were still in ignorance. 
 
 "Well and good," said O'Ferral judiciously. "Now 
 sit down for two minutes while I change my clothes, 
 and then we'll take a casual squint at the Impasse de 
 Paradis. Understand plainly that you and I are taking 
 the thing up together at this stage, and don't let me 
 hear you move hand or foot till I come back for you." 
 
 His masterful tone did not fail of effect on his 
 friend's fevered mind. 
 
 "You're very good, O'Ferral," Quaintance said much 
 more calmly. "Excuse me. I must be a bit on edge, 
 I think." 
 
 He pocketed his weapon and sat down, gripping the 
 elbow-rests of his chair so that great dents showed 
 in the leather. It was the worst that had befallen yet 
 to think that actual harm might have come to his lost 
 duchess through him. 
 
 O'Ferral reappeared without undue delay, and to 
 him as commander of the expedition Cornoyer ad- 
 dressed a modest request that he might be permitted 
 to join it. 
 
 "I don't want to butt in," said he, "but I might be 
 useful if there were a row." 
 
 "Glad to have you with us," replied O'Ferral. "Come 
 on. We'll get a cab by the way." 
 
 It had been dark for nearly an hour before they set 
 out, and, when they reached the street, it was raining. 
 They drove to the Place St. Michel, and from there 
 made their way on foot to the Impasse. 
 
 "Cut into the Blue Rabbit and ask the proprietor if
 
 264 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 he's seen anything lately of an American called Stephen 
 Quaintance," the correspondent commanded of Cor- 
 noyer, who had been telling him of their encounter with 
 that impostor there. "You know the old fellow well 
 enough to find out anything he can tell." 
 
 But Cornoyer came back almost immediately shak- 
 ing his head. 
 
 "He hasn't been in since we left this morning," he 
 reported. "A week ago he used to be about a good 
 deal, and ran up a score which he settled yesterday 
 evening." 
 
 They went on down the Impasse, and Quaintance 
 pointed out the postern in an angle of the blank wall 
 at its blind end. O'Ferral looked back, but there was 
 no one visible. He pulled a little electric torch from 
 his pocket and scrutinized the key-hole carefully. 
 
 "Someone been out and in quite lately," he said. 
 "We'll have a look at the front of this building." 
 
 They traveled round to the lane on which it abutted, 
 empty at that hour and gloomy on a wet night with 
 nothing in view but the grim frontage of the lofty old 
 dwelling-house, standing with shuttered windows, the 
 last of its kind on that site. A weatherbeaten board 
 lacking most of its pristine whiteness announced that 
 it was to let, furnished, for a term of years, and that 
 the keys might be had from the bakery at an adjacent 
 corner. 
 
 "Get the keys," O'Ferral ordered, and Cornoyer 
 was off on the instant. He was intensely interested in 
 the proceedings, and filled with admiration for their 
 leader's detective methods. The correspondent re- 
 called him. 
 
 "Got a gun?" that gentleman asked.
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 265 
 
 "Well, you'd better make a bee-line for the nearest 
 armory and lay in a working six-shooter at the same 
 time. We shan't require to use it, of course, but it 
 might have a good moral effect." 
 
 Cornoyer came hurrying back, with the news that 
 the keys had been granted no later than that forenoon 
 to a man who answered in every respect to his descrip- 
 tion of the soi-disant Stephen Quaintance. They would 
 probably not be returned for three or four days, since 
 that individual had required them for that length of 
 time with a view to taking some measurements. 
 
 "H'm!" said O'Ferral. "Steve, I think we've struck 
 the scent first throw-off. But we'll have to break in, 
 unless you'd prefer to do things legally, which would 
 take longer." 
 
 "Don't lose a moment," Quaintance whispered. "If 
 she's in that villain's hands, O'Ferral, her life's not safe 
 for the next few hours." 
 
 "True for you," assented the correspondent under 
 his breath. It had not struck him before that the situa- 
 tion was such a grave one. Much might happen in a 
 few hours where there were ten millions at stake. 
 
 "We'll try the back first," he directed. "Come on 
 round again." 
 
 Cornoyer was deeply delighted when he produced 
 from his pocket a bunch of thin keys, with one of which 
 he almost succeeded in forcing the lock. But he finally 
 had to admit himself baffled, and drew back a little to 
 stare vexedly up at the high blank wall. 
 
 "One of us could get over that, I think," Cornoyer 
 suggested. 
 
 "I'm lightest. I'll try if Newman Quaintance will 
 give me a back.'*
 
 266 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 "You'll have to look sharp about it then," O'Ferral 
 advised. "If we're caught in the act it will mean the 
 lock-up for the lot of us. We haven't even the shadow 
 of an excuse, unless you want to give the whole show 
 away, Steve." 
 
 "We'll try it and see what happens," said Quaintance. 
 "Wait, here's someone coming!" 
 
 They flattened themselves, faces inward, among the 
 shadows, but the footsteps they heard turned into the 
 brasserie at the far corner. No further sound was audi- 
 ble. 
 
 Quaintance braced himself at his full height against 
 the wall. Cornoyer clambered on to his shoulders and 
 straightened himself on firm footing. 
 
 "Allez! Vitel he whispered, jumping swiftly and 
 surely. Quaintance had set his teeth while the boots 
 hit into his shoulders as the other made his spring, but 
 uttered no sound. 
 
 "Where is he?" he asked stepping back to look up. 
 
 "He's over the wall," answered O'Ferral. "You did 
 that stunt very neatly, Steve." 
 
 An instant of expectation followed, and they heard a 
 dull, grating wrench. Then silence for two or three 
 minutes which seemed interminable till that was broken 
 by a quick creak and a heavy body fell from above at 
 the back of the door. The door opened, noiselessly, 
 which proved that the hinges had recently been oiled, 
 and they pushed hastily in as a couple of pedestrians 
 came round the corner toward them. O'Ferral closed 
 it behind him, and they waited with beating hearts, but 
 those steps also ceased suddenly. 
 
 "How did you get in?" he asked Cornoyer, casting 
 the light of his lamp cautiously about him.
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 267 
 
 "There is a small skylight above. It's bolted inside 
 but I dug the glass out of its frame. I set it back in 
 place as well as I could before I let go." 
 
 ''Looks all right from here," said O'Ferral in a whis- 
 per and took his thumb from the battery button. 
 ''Boots off now, boys. We must tread delicately. Take 
 open order, and don't tumble over each other." 
 
 As soon as they were thus prepared against accident, 
 they set off, the correspondent leading the way, which 
 took them through the covered passage into the 
 kitchen. 
 
 The door from there to the hall-way was closed, and 
 it creaked as they opened it. They stood listening in- 
 tently in the pitch darkness, until they were fairly sure 
 that no one had heard, before moving on. It was eerie 
 work, and each felt glad that the others were there. 
 
 The rooms opening off the hallway were empty of all 
 save faded furniture, ghastly of shape in its ragged 
 coverings, but showing no trace of having been 
 touched for years. They crept upstairs, and, on the 
 floor above, found a locked door which they could not 
 open. O'Ferral motioned to them to pass on in the 
 meantime, and mounted another flight, where there 
 were once more only empty rooms. A third and fourth 
 afforded no more encouragement, and the lamp's faint 
 gleam showed that one more would take them to the 
 top of the house. 
 
 There were only two doors on that flat, and one stood 
 ajar. It led to a box-room. The other was locked, 
 and the key had been taken away. O'Ferral put his 
 ear to the keyhole, but could hear nothing. 
 
 "House seems to be empty," he whispered to Quaint- 
 ance, who held up his Hand, got down on his knees, and
 
 268 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 listened for anything the floor might have to tell. He 
 stayed thus for quite a minute before he got quietly to 
 his feet again. 
 
 "There's some one inside," he said, and at that mo- 
 ment steps were distinctly audible above the patter of 
 rain on the roof. From the darkness below came the 
 dull thud of a door closing. The stairs creaked omi- 
 nously. 
 
 "Stand by!" said Quaintance, and they lined up be- 
 side him, their backs to the wall.
 
 CHAPTER XXII 
 
 MAITRE GEORGES IS REQUIRED TO SOLEMNIZE DOMINIC 
 SEAGER'S MARRIAGE 
 
 When Seager and Arendsen left the Blue Rabbit to- 
 gether, and after the latter had induced his half-intoxi- 
 cated companion to leave the Duchesse alone for the 
 present, had led him away from the postern past 
 Quaintance in the shadow of the brasserie door, it was 
 almost four in the morning of the last day allowed by 
 Miles Quaintance's will for wresting his millions from 
 the outstretched hands of charity.. And it inflamed 
 Black Dirck's mind still more to think that that 
 had begun so ill. Four of its precious hours had al- 
 ready sped, and four more must pass before they could 
 make any further move. 
 
 But Seager, still artificially elated by the champagne 
 he had swallowed in haste since Cornoyer and Quaint- 
 ance would none of it, was boisterously optimistic. 
 He clapped Arendsen on the shoulder as they crossed 
 the bridge to their quarters on the Isle de la Cite, and, 
 "Cheer up, old man," said he. "The game's going our 
 way. With two heads like yours and mine behind it, 
 our hand's a winner." 
 
 Arendsen looked round at him, evilly, but said 
 no word, and Seager shrank into silence under his 
 glance. They reached their rooms without further 
 speech. 
 
 269
 
 270 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 "Get to bed," Arendsen ordered then, and Seager, 
 cowed, witless, bemused, threw himself down, dressed 
 as he was, with no more than a muttered curse. Al- 
 most instantly he fell into a sodden sleep. But Arend- 
 sen sat up long after Paris was wide awake to the last 
 day which stood between him and the loss of that great 
 fortune almost within his grasp, only sixteen hours of 
 it left. He sat immobile, hands clenched, teeth show- 
 ing, eyes fixed on vacancy, but his brain was very busy^ 
 and when he rose stiffly from his straight chair, the 
 frown on his face had relaxed a little. He had formed 
 fresh plans. 
 
 At eight o'clock he shook Seager into sullen con- 
 sciousness, and his accomplice, raising himself on one 
 elbow, glowered over at him out of bloodshot eyes. 
 
 "Curse you, Arendsen !" he growled savagely. "Why 
 couldn't you let me sleep? I've a head worse than a 
 menagerie of wild beasts, and " 
 
 "You'll have plenty of time to sleep," the other as- 
 sured him, with ominous quietude, "after I'm through 
 with you. And I'll be through with you soon after 
 twelve to-night. Get ready quickly. We're going 
 out." 
 
 Seager started as he was thus reminded of the flight 
 of time, and, curbing the retort which had been trem- 
 bling on his tongue, rose obediently, caught up a 
 pitcher of water with which he strove to slake the thirst 
 consuming him. 
 
 Arendsen rang savagely for coffee, and, having seen 
 to it that Seager emptied the cafetiere while they both 
 made a hasty toilet, picked up his own hat, led the way 
 downstairs with a quick gesture. Seager followed him 
 docilely, having realized in the interval the perilous
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 271 
 
 gravity of their joint situation, the still more perilous 
 position in which he therefore stood. 
 
 "Where are we going now?" he demanded morosely 
 as they turned toward the north bank of the Seine. 
 "You needn't be so infernally mysterious, Dirck. I've 
 just as much at stake in this business as you. And 
 more, if it comes to that." 
 
 "And more," echoed Arendsen, with the same omi- 
 nous quietude. "It will go a great deal worse with 
 you than with me, if we fail. 
 
 "We're going to talk to the Duke now. I got his 
 address and the story of his so-called marriage from 
 that man Chevrel, while you were bemuddling yourself 
 with those others at the Blue Rabbit." 
 
 Seager scowled at him but made no verbal retort, 
 and they pursued their way to the Rue St. Honore in 
 sullen silence, each occupied with his own scheme to 
 outwit the other. 
 
 Their errand thither proved to be vain, for, when 
 Jules Chevrel came to the door, in pyjamas, he could 
 only tell them that Monsieur had left his rooms on the 
 previous evening, gone elsewhere, with only a suit-case 
 for baggage. 
 
 "He will be back, without doubt," the good Jules 
 assured them, "but when, who can tell? He is a very 
 erratic gentleman, my late employer, but it would seem 
 that he has not yet tired of our mutual friend, Miss 
 Lorraine, with whom I hope you had a satisfactory in- 
 terview yesterday evening." 
 
 His leeringly significant smile enraged Seager be- 
 yond all reason : and he sprang forward, aiming a fierce 
 blow at him. But the wily Jules, already experienced 
 in the wild-beast ways of Americans, was not thus to be
 
 272 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 caught napping, and Seager's knuckles encountered 
 only a hurtful surface of polished oak. Monsieur le 
 Due's door was closed against them, and Jules could 
 not be induced to re-open it. 
 
 Arendsen had no time now to waste in argument or 
 recrimination. He merely made a mental note of this 
 fresh notch in his long score against the unfortunate 
 Seager, and they set out to seek Monsieur high and 
 low elsewhere, not to be baffled till midnight should 
 strike and Miles Quaintance's millions be finally be- 
 yond their grasp. 
 
 It was already evening before they ' returned to the 
 Rue Saint Honore, and, once more plodding wearily 
 upstairs, found the oaken outer door of Monsieur's 
 apartment wide. 
 
 "We'll walk right in," said Arendsen determinedly, 
 and did so. "Close both these doors, and bolt them." 
 
 "Who's there ?" asked a curt voice which came from 
 a curtained doorway at the other end of the corridor. 
 "Is that you, Tissot-Latour ? I told you not to come 
 back?" 
 
 Arendsen strode forward without hesitation, and, 
 pushing into the room, found M. le Due on his feet, 
 very angry at getting no answer to his enquiry. 
 
 "Who the devil are you?" demanded Monsieur, re- 
 garding this unexpected intruder with pardonable as- 
 perity. 
 
 Arendsen held up a huge hand, and, "One moment," 
 said he, looking over his shoulder for Seager whom he 
 must perforce trust to explain matters since his own 
 French was too indifferent. 
 
 "Tell him that we're here on behalf of your cousin, 
 Miss Lorraine," he instructed that individual, hard at
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 273 
 
 his heels, and Seager bowed to the Due with ironic 
 ceremony. His lost self-confidence was rapidly return- 
 ing, and he was well pleased with the prospect of bait- 
 ing the man who had come between him and the vast 
 wealth which should have been his. 
 
 "We are here on behalf of Miss Lorraine, my 
 cousin," said he, chin thrust forward and scowling at 
 Monsieur. 
 
 "You mean Madame la Duchesse des Reves!" cried 
 the Due eagerly, and accepting their presence without 
 further comment. "You mean Madame la Duchesse! 
 Where is she? What has happened to her? Speak 
 quickly! For the love of heaven, speak!" 
 
 Arendsen held up his hand again. 
 
 "Tell him to go slow, Seager. I want to understand 
 all he says. We're going to thrash this matter out to 
 an end here. Tell him to go slow and to pay attention 
 to me." 
 
 "Why don't you tell him yourself since you're so im- 
 portant?" snapped Seager, his own self-importance 
 ruffled by the other's tone. He turned to the Due who 
 xvas anxiously glancing from one to the other of them, 
 and conveyed to him in drawling French some part of 
 his companion's instructions. 
 
 "And you'd better attend to what I've got to say to 
 you," he added for his own gratification. 
 
 "Mais mon dieu, Monsieur!" urged the Due, "tell me 
 quickly what you have to tell. Where is Madame my 
 wife?" 
 
 "So she is your wife?" Seager asked sourly. "Are 
 you quite sure ' 
 
 "If you have come here to insult me," said Monsieur 
 in a low, steely voice, "you had better "
 
 274 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 "Tranquilize yourself," Seager requested. "We're 
 here to talk business, not to make fine speeches. And, 
 if you feel that you ever want to see her again, you'd 
 better reply to my question." 
 
 The Due's face flushed darkly, but with a great effort 
 of will he controlled himself, and answered, since he 
 could not but comply, "Yes, I am quite sure." 
 
 "There seems to be no doubt about it," Seager told 
 Arendsen, and the latter gnawed his moustache for a 
 moment in silence. 
 
 "Then the marriage must be annulled," he an- 
 nounced. "Tell him all he needs to know, and ask him 
 how much he'll take to stand in with us. It will pay 
 him best to agree. Tell him plainly, Seager, that it 
 will pay him best to agree, and that we're not to be 
 trifled with." 
 
 He sat listening attentively, head forward, frowning, 
 while Seager made matters clear to the staring Due, 
 having premised his story with the curt warning that 
 they three were quite alone, entirely cut off from com- 
 munication with the outer world, a fact further at- 
 tested by the urgent ringing of the door-bell, which 
 no one answered. 
 
 The room was an interior one and windowless, 
 lighted from overhead by day. Its cupola was closely 
 curtained now and shaded lamps shone from the cor- 
 nices. The two adventurers had safely trapped their 
 victim. And Monsieur knew that he was helpless in 
 their hands. He could easily understand, too, that they 
 were desperate men. Seager had told him their 
 side of the story in cunning details. They had staked 
 their all and were determined to win. 
 
 When Seager had finished speaking, he would have
 
 A MILLION A. MINUTE 275 
 
 risen but that they simultaneously ordered him to sit 
 still. And since it would have been futile to measure 
 forces with them physically, he could but obey. 
 
 "We're waiting your answer to our proposition," 
 Seager reminded him sternly. 
 
 "It needs no answer," returned the Due, "but, since 
 you think that it does, I refuse." 
 
 "Tell him that he does so at the risk of his wife's life, 
 as well as his own," Arendsen suggested craftily, and 
 the Due's thin face showed the feelings with which he 
 received that statement. But he was no whit less firm. 
 Whatever his failings he was no coward, and they could 
 by no means frighten him into compliance with their 
 most monstrous proposal. 
 
 "I refuse," he repeated, with stubborn fixity of res- 
 olution. "My own life is as nothing to me, and you 
 two will pay very dearly for any harm which may hap- 
 pen Madame la Duchesse des Reves." 
 
 "He won't budge," Seager told Arendsen vexedly, 
 and Arendsen fell to tugging at his black beard. He 
 could almost foresee the failure of the foul plot which 
 had promised such rich reward. And, while they sat 
 there eyeing each other furtively, a clock in the corri- 
 dor without chimed nine. 
 
 Arendsen started up with an oath which he could 
 not repress. At midnight Miles Quaintance's millions 
 would fall prey to charity. And, since it seemed that 
 the Due could not be coerced, since it was already too 
 late to evolve any further feasible scheme, there was 
 nothing left for it but to play his last card, with which 
 he must, at all costs, recoup himself for the loss he had 
 so far suffered. 
 
 He knew to a fraction what all his dealings with
 
 276 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 Seager had cost him, and made up his mind in a twink- 
 ling what he must do. It only nettled him that he 
 could not act in the matter except through Seager, who 
 would doubtless seek to despoil him of some part of 
 his fair profit. But he felt confident that he could over- 
 come his accomplice in any battle of wits. 
 
 "Ask the Duke how much he's willing to pay for the 
 safe return of the Duchess," he said suddenly, and Sea- 
 ger lay back in his chair with a quick chuckle of amuse- 
 ment. 
 
 "Faith ! you're a downy old bird, Dirck," said he ad- 
 miringly. "It will be a wet day when you haven't a 
 card or two up your sleeve! And so you've given up 
 hope of scooping in the jack-pot, have you? How 
 about me? Share and share's my motto, you know." 
 
 "You ask him the question," growled Arendsen 
 threateningly, and Seager turned to the Due with a 
 serious face, fixing in his own mind the lowest figure 
 he would accept for himself in such a transaction. He 
 had long ago learned that the Due was reputed a rich 
 man, in France. 
 
 Monsieur thought long and earnestly ere replying. 
 That was not the first time he had had to do with black- 
 mailers, and he judged that no small sum would satisfy 
 the two who had thus bearded him in his own den. He 
 had also repented already his hasty condemnation of 
 the Duchesse, his first suspicion that she had befooled 
 him. And it seemed that the younger of the two 
 scoundrels confronting him was that same cousin who, 
 but for him, might have shared with her the dead 
 American's millions. He foresaw a heavy drain on his 
 purse, but was prepared to meet that if he could not 
 otherwise succor the innocent victim of his own ill-
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 277 
 
 doing. He had almost groaned aloud at thought of 
 what she might have suffered in their hands. 
 
 "He asks how much we are willing to take," Seager 
 explained to Arendsen as soon as the Due had spoken, 
 and looked curiously across at his fellow-conspirator. 
 
 "It will cost him a hundred thousand francs to settle 
 with me," said that individual decisively. "And, look 
 here, Seager ! Be very careful what you're about. I've 
 stood all I'm going to stand from you. It will be the 
 very worst night's work you ever did if you spoil this 
 deal." 
 
 Seager's face fell. He would fain have exacted an 
 equal amount for himself, but the cold menace in his 
 confederate's hissing speech caused him no little un- 
 easiness, and he deemed it wise to be moderate in his 
 demands. 
 
 "I can't start life all over again with less than ten 
 thousand dollars," he snarled, "and don't you forget, 
 Arendsen, that what you draw from the pool clears up 
 all 'old scores between you and me. 
 
 "We'll take a hundred and fifty thousand francs," he 
 told the Due brusquely. "And you needn't haggle 
 about it, my friend. Let me tell you that my cousin 
 is cheap at the price, even without my uncle's money 
 money that by rights is mine. You'll give us your 
 cheque for a hundred and fifty thousand. We'll take 
 you to where she is, and you'll stay there with her till 
 we've drawn the cash." 
 
 The Due did not hesitate. The payment of such a 
 ransom would pinch him most sorely, but he could see 
 no other resource. And it was no time for bargaining. 
 
 "Bien, Monsieur," he agreed. "I shall write you a
 
 278 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 cheque at once if you will allow me, and you will re- 
 store the Duchesse to me to-night?" 
 
 Seager nodded sulkily, stung by the thought that 
 he might have had more for the asking. 
 
 "You'll write two cheques," he stipulated. "One for 
 a hundred thousand, the other for fifty. And you'll 
 give us your sacred word of honor not to molest us in 
 any way, either now or afterwards. Here's pen and 
 ink. Don't waste time." 
 
 The Due took the pen from him, bowing. 
 
 "I give you my word," said he simply. "And 
 
 here are the cheques. They are both 'to bearer.' They 
 will be honored whenever you care to present them. 
 Now let us go, if you will be so good." 
 
 "Can we trust him?" asked Arendsen doubtfully. 
 
 "How can we help ourselves?" Seager demanded, 
 and led the way to the door. 
 
 The Due followed him, and Arendsen followed the 
 Due very closely, but such precaution proved needless, 
 for Monsieur, having resigned himself to their de- 
 mands, had no intention of breaking the promise which 
 he had made them. Seager hailed a cab as soon as he 
 reached the street, Arendsen shepherded the Due into 
 it, and the three drove off together in the direction of 
 the Latin Quarter. 
 
 Seated, silent, within the cab, as it rumbled noisily 
 down the street, entirely sober again and thus dismally 
 disappointed in all his long-cherished anticipation, Sea- 
 ger had time to think over his own grievances against 
 fate. And these began to loom ever more loftily be- 
 fore his mental vision. What were a paltry ten thou- 
 sand dollars to him in comparison with the ten millions 
 the man at his side had cost him! And why should
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 279 
 
 Arendsen reap so much more than himself from their 
 mutual venture ! Were all his own dreams to come to 
 naught thus tamely? 
 
 His hands were clenched, his forehead damp, he 
 could have gnashed his teeth and cried aloud in im- 
 potent despair while his mind, twisting, turning, in the 
 mesh of circumstance, could find no outlet from such 
 pitiful predicament. The trundling cab was traveling 
 too fast for him. He wanted time to think. There 
 must be some way out, some slim last chance for him 
 to clutch at. 
 
 There was! 
 
 The inspiration came to him almost too late. There 
 was a way, a way not perhaps altogether clear but well 
 worth following toward that result for which his long- 
 ing had grown well-nigh insupportable since it had 
 seemed beyond his utmost reach. The cab had crossed 
 the bridge. There was no time now to explain to 
 Arendsen but he would surely understand that the 
 game was still worth the candle. They were not going 
 to give ten millions and the girl up without a final 
 desperate effort. 
 
 "Dirck !" he said whispering excitedly, while the Due 
 strove to understand, "I've got a plan, one that can't 
 fail us. I'll tell you afterwards. We must take Maitre 
 Georges along." 
 
 Dirck Arendsen appeared to cogitate, but only for 
 a moment. He too had been regretting very bitterly 
 the paltry outcome of their enterprise. He was still 
 to be tempted by the bait of ultimate success. 
 
 "All right," he answered. "We'll take him along. 
 It's at your risk." 
 
 The cab was stopped. Seager jumped out, after a
 
 s8o A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 hasty word of explanation to the Due, who sat impa- 
 tiently with Arendsen until the former came back ac- 
 companied by a little, mean-looking, black-clad fellow 
 who clambered in with a nod of greeting, and they 
 drove on to the corner of the Impasse de Paradis where 
 they all alighted. The cab was dismissed, and, after it 
 had driven away, the four turned down the cul-de-sac 
 toward the deserted house at the top of which the 
 Duchesse was confined. 
 
 Monsieur le Due was no coward, and yet he shivered 
 involuntarily as he followed Seager into the dark, dank 
 corridor, while Arendsen carefully closed and locked 
 the door behind the soft-footed stranger they had 
 picked up. 
 
 "Tread quietly," Seager commanded, and they 
 climbed with all precaution to the first floor, entering 
 a room whose door opened noiselessly under his care- 
 ful manipulation. 
 
 He struck a light, which he applied to a tallow can- 
 dle stuck in a bottle upon a table littered with the re- 
 mains of a meal. The Due looked about him anxiously, 
 and his heart sank at what he saw. The window 
 was strongly shuttered and he was alone there with 
 this most unprepossessing pair. 
 
 The little man had not entered, was waiting outside 
 in a state of extreme perturbation. For Maitre 
 Georges, sworn notary public, and the most rascally 
 among the rascals of his profession in Paris, had been 
 mixed up in many shady transactions, and not a few 
 which were criminal, but in none heretofore which 
 promised so ill as this. But the advanced fee he had 
 pocketed that afternoon had been a very liberal one, 
 and the assurance of a still more handsome douceur
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 281 
 
 in return for his services had served to still his few 
 qualms of conscience. His fears also kept him quietly 
 waiting where he was until his clients should call upon 
 him. 
 
 They came forth, ten minutes later, the two of them, 
 leaving the room in which they had been dark and 
 strangely silent, and Seager, groping for him in the 
 gloom, laid a hand on his sleeve, causing him to start 
 aside in sudden alarm. 
 
 "I want you to solemnize my marriage, now, Maitre 
 Georges," said his strange client in a very tremulous 
 voice. "The lady's waiting upstairs come this way. 
 You have all the papers prepared, haven't you?"
 
 CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 TIME IS MONEY AT THE RATE OF A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 Quaintance, backed to the wall on the landing at the 
 top of the stairs, heard them coming. He pushed 
 O'Ferral and Cornoyer toward the open door of the 
 box-room behind, and they all slipped soundlessly into 
 it, not daring even to whisper. And, presently, three 
 pairs of shuffling feet came to a stop on the landing 
 outside, a key turned in the locked door. 
 
 The feet shuffled onward. It seemed that another 
 door barred their way. That in turn opened with a 
 faint click. A ray of light shot outward ere it closed 
 again. A man's voice spoke, and was answered by a 
 woman's. 
 
 "She's in there," said Quaintance, under his breath, 
 and tiptoed from his hiding-place. 
 
 O'Ferral, following, caught at his arm. 
 
 "Don't burst in on them. Let's hear all those fel- 
 lows have to say first, if we possibly can. They haven't 
 locked the door behind them. We're free of the meet- 
 ing." 
 
 They halted within the passage between the two 
 doors, and listened intently, without compunction. 
 Quaintance had one hand on the key, one ear at the 
 keyhole. 
 
 Within, in the dimly lighted, dishevelled studio, the 
 Duchesse and Fanchette had sprung to their feet as 
 
 282
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 283 
 
 Seager pushed past the frail barricade they had erected 
 lest anyone entering should surprise them asleep. Af- 
 ter him came another, a little, wizened, dried-up man- 
 nikin, black-clad, of evil countenance, behind whom 
 appeared Arendsen, his swart features grimly inflexible. 
 He pulled the door to, and Seager spoke first. 
 
 "Hope you haven't been anxious while I've been 
 away, Dagmar," he observed with pretentious solici- 
 tude. "I couldn't get back any sooner. I've been very 
 busy on your behalf the whole day, and I've brought 
 you news. I was going to say bad news, but better be 
 honest. It isn't bad news for either of us, and I'm 
 sure you won't break your heart over it : your husband 
 was nothing to you, you know. He's dead, Dagmar. 
 Dropped off quite suddenly heart disease, the doc- 
 tors say." 
 
 She stared at him, in doubt and dismay unspeakable, 
 striving to understand, fain to disbelieve what he said. 
 But his eyes did not drop before hers as usual. He 
 gave her back glance for glance, boldly, seemed to be 
 speaking the truth. And, little cause as she had to es- 
 teem the Due, the shock of such news, told thus, al- 
 most stunned her. 
 
 "What your cousin says is quite true, Miss 
 Duchess," Arendsen affirmed solemnly. "This gen- 
 tleman is a lawyer. He'll tell you anything else you 
 may wish to know." 
 
 She darted a quick, despairing glance in the direc- 
 tion of Maitre Georges, and that individual, well primed 
 with whispered instructions by Seager on their way up- 
 stairs, shambled forward. 
 
 "Alas! Madame," said he with a great assumption 
 of sympathy, "what my friends tell you is a sad fact.
 
 284 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 M. le Due lies dead downstairs. The body was 
 brought hither that that that " 
 
 The clock in the corner struck the hour with a sud- 
 den, sonorous clang, and almost instantly Notre Dame 
 tolled eleven. 
 
 The Duchesse shivered violently, leaned still more 
 heavily on Fanchette's trembling arm. Seager started 
 forward. 
 
 "Come, Dagmar," he said, in what he meant for a 
 tender tone, "you mustn't give way, you know. It's 
 sudden, of course, but think it's all for the best, isn't 
 it! He was nothing to you, and you're free of him 
 now. Think what that means to you and to me." 
 
 His face darkened as she shrank from him in such 
 loathing as was plain to all. And, spurred on by a viru- 
 lent glance from Arendsen, he made his fell purpose 
 more clear to her. 
 
 "This is no time to stand on ceremony. You know 
 what I want you to do for me, Dagmar, and you're 
 free to marry me now. Take my word for that or, if 
 you won't, we'll take you downstairs and show you the 
 body. It was brought here to satisfy you that you're 
 really free. 
 
 "And just think of me as well as yourself," he went 
 on querulously. "I'm more than fully entitled to my 
 half of our uncle's fortune, and you'll be none the worse 
 of the other half either. It will do you no harm to go 
 through the form of marriage with me, and I'll swear 
 you'll never see me again after that unless you send 
 for me. All I want's the marriage certificate, to show 
 to the lawyers in San Francisco a little enough thing, 
 too, considering all that my uncle did for you. You 
 will, Dagmar, won't you? For my sake!"
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 285 
 
 He looked at her in impatient appeal, a great sense of 
 his own unfortunate plight moving him to unusual 
 pathos. And she at length spoke. 
 
 "I will not," she said very distinctly. 
 
 Seager's gaze shifted to the clock and returned to 
 her. 
 
 "By God. But you will, my girl," he cried hoarsely, 
 glaring at her, quite beside himself, "and without any 
 more ado. If you won't be led I'm the man to drive 
 you. 
 
 "Get your papers ready, you fool !" he snarled to the 
 cringing notary. 
 
 "Dirck, drag that old hag away and keep her quiet 
 till she's wanted. She'll have to sign as a witness after 
 we're through with the ceremony." 
 
 He strode over to the Duchesse, his hands raised 
 to wrest her from Fanchette, his face flushed, his eyes 
 shot with blood, blindly set in his desperate purpose. 
 And Arendsen, at his shoulder, no less determined, 
 had clutched cruelly at the old serving-woman's arm 
 when a stifled exclamation from Maitre Georges, very 
 busy in the background with his portfolio, caused them 
 to turn on their heels. 
 
 "Hands up, both of you!" snapped a voice that 
 sounded to them like the crack of doom, and both 
 withdrew empty hands from behind their backs, raised 
 these in instant obedience before two revolvers, cocked, 
 not a foot from their foreheads. 
 
 "Step back to the wall," commanded their captors, 
 pressing upon them, and they were wise enough to 
 comply without a second's delay. 
 
 " 'Bout face ! Keep your hands up." 
 
 They turned, and remained in that ignominious pos-
 
 286 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 ture while the whining Maitre Georges was inducted 
 between them by the third of the three men who had 
 thus surprised them, and who forthwith relieved Sea- 
 ger and Arendsen of the concealed weapons they car- 
 ried. Maitre Georges, it seemed, was unarmed. 
 
 " 'Bout face !" once more came the crackling com- 
 mand, and they faced about like automatons, Maitre 
 Georges moving instinctively with the others. 
 
 "Now stay where you are. You may drop your 
 hands, but the first of you who makes the slightest 
 movement otherwise will make no more. Under- 
 stand?" 
 
 Seager nodded. He was breathing stertorously, 
 through set teeth, eyes dilated, unable to comprehend 
 what had happened. Arendsen nodded also, against 
 his will, in answer to a significant crooking of his ques- 
 tioner's trigger-finger. And, "Oui, oui, Monsieur!" 
 wailed Maitre Georges, no less bewildered but very 
 anxious to save his own skin. 
 
 "Keep an eye on them for a moment, O'Ferral, and 
 you too, J. J.," said the same speaker, and turned to 
 where the Duchesse and Fanchette were still standing 
 in almost equal amazement. 
 
 "Your pardon," he said, bowing courteously, and 
 both recognized him at the same instant. He was the 
 same man whom the Duchesse had met first at Mar- 
 tin's, then on the seashore at Stormport, and lastly, at 
 the Elysee, the same man to whom Fanchette had sold 
 her mistress's runabout, whose car she had comman- 
 deered. "Your pardon," said he, bowing courteously, 
 "but we've overheard all that's passed. We were wait- 
 ing outside at your service. Won't you, please, sit
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 287 
 
 down. You have nothing more to fear from those fel- 
 lows, and " 
 
 He sprang forward, caught at the Duchesse or she 
 would have fallen. Her overtaxed strength had failed 
 her, and she lay helpless in his arms for a blissful mo- 
 ment ere he carried her to the sofa and set her down 
 tenderly there. 
 
 Fanchette, scarcely less overcome, flew to her, and 
 for a brief space they mingled their tears, sobbing 
 without restraint since the most hurtful strain of the 
 terror they had undergone was thus lately relieved. 
 And the chief of their rescuers stood staring wickedly 
 at their aggressors until the sobs ceased, the Duchesse 
 looked up woefully, and met his eyes again, so that 
 their anger died and there was only left in them a look 
 of longing, at which she flushed, so faintly that he 
 did not notice it. 
 
 "Tell me what has happened, please, Mr. Newman/' 
 she begged piteously, ignoring all else in her stress of 
 mind. "I have been held prisoner here for twenty-four 
 hours, and I don't understand." 
 
 "I must tell you, to start with," said Quaintance 
 quickly, "and I must ask you 'to believe all I say with- 
 out question meantime, that my name isn't Newman. 
 I'm Stephen Quaintance, Miles Quaintance's nephew." 
 
 "You're a damned liar," cried Seager from the back- 
 ground, furiously, on the impulse of the moment. 
 "I'm Stephen Quaintance, not you. And I can prove 
 what I say. Don't believe him, Dagmar. He must be 
 mad !" 
 
 Quaintance wheeled toward him with a look which 
 boded him ill. 
 
 "You ring off," he ordered imperatively. "Break
 
 288 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 his head with the butt of your gun, O'Ferral, if he 
 opens his mouth again till he's told to." 
 
 O'Ferral made as if to obey him, and Seager sub- 
 sided, glaring, with twitching lips, his mind in a fer- 
 ment. 
 
 "I changed my name because of my uncle's will, and 
 so that you shouldn't have to marry me. You are Dag- 
 mar Lorraine, aren't you?" 
 
 She nodded. 
 
 "And Duchesse des Reves," she said drearily, op- 
 pressed anew by the knowledge that neither man nor 
 woman may safely interfere with the dictates of fate. 
 "I married the Due des Reves as soon as I heard of 
 Mr. Quaintance's death, to escape " 
 
 "To escape me," Quaintance supplemented, as she 
 paused, at a loss to explain herself without hurting his 
 feelings. He lowered his voice. 
 
 "I made the mistake of my life when I discarded my 
 own identity, Dagmar. But I did it for your sake, that 
 you might have my uncle's money and your own free- 
 dom." 
 
 Her eyes fell again before his and the story they 
 told her. Her face was suffused now. But she would 
 be honest with him at all costs. "I, too, made a great 
 mistake," she said, very gravely, in a low whisper, and 
 Fanchette, an arm about her, fondled her trembling 
 hand. 
 
 "We have both paid very dearly for our independ- 
 ence," commented Quaintance in a grievous voice, "but 
 you are safe now at any rate." 
 
 "They tell me my husband is dead," she said, start- 
 ing up, suddenly recalled to the actualities of her posi- 
 tion. "They say he's dead here, downstairs."
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 289 
 
 Seager had overheard her. He had been watching 
 them with a ferocious intensity, knew all that he needed 
 to know for the present. His drawn face shaped itself 
 to a grin, cruel, mocking, malevolent. It might be too 
 late now to win the hazard himself, but he could still 
 spoil their chances of happiness. 
 
 "The Due is not dead," he cried across, braving 
 O'Ferral's uplifted pistol. "We only drugged him. He 
 is not dead." 
 
 He licked his lips at sight, of the shadow which came 
 down on Quaintance's face. So much at least of the 
 score between them, he had paid off. For, the Due 
 living, and since he himself must perforce give up all 
 hope of winning Miles Quaintance's millions, ,the man 
 whose birthright he would have usurped was no better 
 off. And neither could gain the girl. 
 
 But his heart failed him utterly as O'Ferral spoke, 
 with a quiet certainty which appalled him. And Arend- 
 sen also cowered and shuddered under the portent of 
 these curt words. 
 
 "The Due des Reves is dead," said the correspon- 
 dent. "I went down to see him myself. You must 
 have drugged him too deeply. He's been dead for a 
 good half-hour." 
 
 They looked at the clock. It wanted but twenty 
 minutes to midnight. And no more was said for a 
 space, so harshly had the horror of it all gripped their 
 minds. 
 
 "7 had nothing to do with it," Arendsen urged, his 
 strangled words breaking the tense silence. Seager 
 stood huddled, .shrinking, against the wall, Cornoyer, 
 revolver in hand, confronting him watchfully. The
 
 290 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 man's lips were blue, his face the color of chalk. His 
 ringers were twitching impotently. 
 
 "I had- nothing to do with it. It was Seager who " 
 
 "You held him, curse you, you dog!" his accom- 
 plice cried with a sudden, futile access of fury. "You 
 had just as much to do with it as anyone else." And 
 they glared ever more venomously at each other across 
 Maitre Georges, who stood, trembling, terror-stricken, 
 between them. 
 
 "You'll both have to answer for it, anyhow," Quaint- 
 ance told them concisely. "And the best thing you can 
 do. in the meantime is to make a clean breast of it as to 
 
 the Speak up, Seager, since that's your name. 
 
 Let's hear your story first and from the beginning. 
 How did you get hold of my papers? .And where are 
 they?" 
 
 Seager slowly straightened his shaking knees, and 
 stood .for a moment, head bent, hands clawing con- 
 vulsively at the plaster of the wall behind him, eyes 
 darting hither and thither, teeth showing, like a trapped 
 rat. Then he spoke, huskily, making .full confession, 
 incriminating Dirck Arendsen whenever he could. But 
 Black Dirck looked straight before him, and listened, 
 speechless. The clock ticked on. in its corner. 
 
 When everything was clear to them, O'Ferral disre- 
 garding all else, made a quick suggestion to Quaint- 
 ance. 
 
 "Steve," said he, without relaxing his vigilance, for 
 Seager was eyeing him very closely now, on the alert 
 for. any least opportunity to spring past him, a chance, 
 however remote, of making a last dash for liberty. 
 "Steve," said he sharply, "the notary's here, with the
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 291 
 
 documents all drawn out, and it's ten to . twelve. 
 There's a million a minute to be had for the taking." 
 
 Quaintance nodded, without a word. He crossed to 
 the door and locked it on the inside, withdrawing the 
 key. Then he signed to the Duchesse, and she fol- 
 lowed him dumbly to the furthest corner of the long 
 room. They sat down together there, and the clock 
 ticked on. 
 
 The three men, their backs to the wall, watched the 
 minutes pass one by one, and soon, "Five millions gone 
 five minutes I mean," said O'Ferral warningly. .But 
 from the corner came only a faint whispering. 
 
 "You're free now, dear heart," said Quaintance to 
 the Duchesse, looking with a new and wonderful knowl- 
 edge into the depths of her tear-dimmed eyes. "We've 
 strayed very far apart in our ignorance. "We've done 
 each other much hurt. But you're free at last." 
 
 Her heart was beating tumultuously, her white 
 bosom rose and fell stormily to the stress within. She 
 was doubly beautiful in her distress, and he longed 
 above all things to take her into his arms, and comfort 
 her there. If she would only give him the right to do 
 that . 
 
 "I meant very well by you," he went on humbly, 
 "and, surely you will not blame me for the wrong I 
 unwittingly did. Since the very first day I saw you I 
 have had no peace of mind, and and I didn't know 
 then who you were. It is for yourself that I love you, 
 and, if you think as I do, we'll keep our hands clean, 
 let my uncle's millions go hang. Tell me what you 
 would have me do. Don't let us make any more mis- 
 takes. Life's far too short to waste it in that way. 
 
 "Trust me, dear," he urged. "Let me stand between
 
 292 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 you and further harm. You are alone here in Paris. 
 There's trouble of all sorts ahead. You need someone 
 to see you through. Why not take me now for 
 what I am worth, if you will? This notary, scoundrel 
 though he is, may legally marry us. The papers .are 
 all prepared, in my rightful name. All I ask till you're 
 willing to give me morels the privilege of protecting 
 you. Say something, Dagmar, but For God's sake, 
 don't say no !" 
 
 She had moved a little apart from him, timidly. 
 What he asked of her seemed so absolutely impossible 
 then and under such circumstances. But his eyes 
 still held hers insistently, and what she , saw in them 
 she had no strength to withstand. 
 
 Her eyelids drooped to hide the sign of surrender. 
 The way had been long and weary, but here at last 
 was the haven which she had missed. What the world 
 would say mattered nothing while they two . . . 
 
 "You know all?" she asked, hurriedly. "I am 
 Duchesse des Reves in name only, and," she glanced 
 very wistfully up at him "and a pauper in my own 
 right." 
 
 "I am not altogether a pauper," he answered gladly, 
 "but had you been a princess, sweetheart, I might 
 not have been so bold. And you'll agree? Immedi- 
 ately after twelve." 
 
 "Any time after twelve," she assented in a low whis- 
 per, and he gathered her into his strong arms, kissed 
 her unkissed lips, clasped her close to him, regardless 
 of those looking on. 
 
 The clock in the corner chimed twelve, and Notre 
 Dame echoed the hour of midnight. She looked up
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 293 
 
 at him again, with a little frightened smile. A stifled 
 groan came from the other end of the room. 
 
 "We're all ready now," Quaintance called across. 
 "Tell that lawyer rascal to step forward and marry us." 
 
 Maitre Georges stepped forward submissively, and 
 they two faced him, the Duchesse still in her 
 robe of state, like some beautiful, slender lily, the lamp- 
 light warm on her ivory arms and shoulders, Quaint- 
 ance, tall and straight, in a ^uit of serge, at her side, his 
 thin, sun-tanned face a fit foil to her shapely fairness. 
 Behind stood Fanchette, with clasped hands, her worn 
 features working. And, from opposite, Seager and 
 Arendsen looked on, impotent, at the simple ceremony, 
 while their two guards, revolver in hand, kept watch 
 and ward over all. 
 
 Maitre Georges performed his part most decorously, 
 and in the shortest possible space of time the widowed 
 Duchesse des Reves was the lawful wife of Stephen 
 Quaintance, sometime known as A. Newman: all as 
 set forth, signed, sealed, and witnessed in a very precis 
 of the proceedings, with an exact note of the day and 
 hour, drawn up by the notary under that gentleman's 
 personal supervision. 
 
 Which done, Quaintance drew his wife's arm through 
 his. 
 
 "And now we'll face the music together, sweetheart," 
 said he resolutely, "if you'll send Fanchette down to 
 fetch in the police."
 
 CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 FATE OPENS A NEW ACCOUNT WITH QUAINTANCE AT 
 
 THE NIGHT AND DAY BANK 
 
 On a crisp winter's afternoon the gardens of Madi- 
 son Square were all bedecked in white, as if for a bridal. 
 The leafless trees wore festoons of crystal and ropes of 
 pearls. From the fountain rose a solid column of sil- 
 ver, wet, glistening. 
 
 The buildings about it were brave with diamond- 
 like pendants which sparkled and shone as they dripped 
 under a brilliant blink of late sunshine. Only the paths 
 and streets where the traffic flowed showed black 
 against winter's robe, their uproar an octave lower un- 
 der the carpet which covered them. 
 
 Frost and snow and sunshine together had turned 
 the drab park into fairyland, or so thought Quaintance, 
 at any rate, as he stepped out into the pillared porch 
 of the Fifth Avenue Hotel, his wife on his arm. They 
 paused for a moment to look thankfully out at the scene 
 there, and then, crossing Broadway carefully, turned 
 up Fifth Avenue, in haste because of the cold. 
 
 Only an hour ago they had stepped ashore from the 
 steamer which had brought them over from France, 
 and, even on the voyage across, they had not, some- 
 how, succeeded in shaking off the remembrance of all 
 they had undergone there. But now, at last, they could 
 
 294
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 295 
 
 realize that their troubles were at an end, could turn 
 their backs on that nightmare past. 
 
 The murder of the Due des Reves had made a nine 
 days' sensation in Paris. The trial, on that capital 
 charge, of Seager and Arendsen, provided the papers 
 with scare-headlines for a full month, but, when all the 
 formalities of the law had been fulfilled and the two 
 sent to the galleys to expiate there the crime they had 
 not contemplated, the public drew a deep breath of re- 
 lief, passed on to the next cause celebre with a cynical 
 shrug of the shoulders which was Monsieur's sole epi- 
 taph. For Etienne Aiglemont Saint-Georges Lorillard, 
 Due des Reves, Vicomte Aiglemont, Seigneur de La 
 Roche-Segur, was also held to have met with his due 
 deserts. 
 
 With him no one sympathized either, and, since 
 Madame la Duchesse, his widow, was quite unknown 
 to the world at large, she escaped sympathy and cen- 
 sure alike. O'Ferral's influence, public and private, a 
 factor much more powerful than had been apparent, 
 had served to save her all undesirable notoriety. 
 Quaintance had engaged on her behalf and his own the 
 best legal talent at the French bar. In the end they 
 came scatheless out of a situation unenviable in the ex- 
 treme. And, as soon as it could conveniently be accom- 
 plished, Quaintance had brought her back home. 
 
 Small wonder then, that they looked about them 
 with thankful hearts and glad eyes as they threaded the 
 hurrying throng on the avenue. 
 
 At thought of their late independence they smiled 
 happily to each other, and two or three of the passers- 
 by, observing the couple, turned to look back at them 
 over their shoulders. They were very good to look at,
 
 296 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 and their glad faces were very well worth a second 
 glance on a winter's day. 
 
 "Where are we going, dear?" she asked him, and he 
 gazed lovingly down at the radiant features upturned 
 from their nest of furs. She was his wife now, this 
 dainty, delicate creature, for whom- he had fought and 
 suffered as a man must to know the true value of vic- 
 tory. And it seemed the more miraculous when he 
 recalled the last time he had sauntered up the avenue, 
 alone, with no least thought of what fate held in store 
 for him. He laughed aloud as he looked, but by no 
 means because he thought the conjunction of fate and 
 Fifth Avenue in any way incongruous. 
 
 "We're going as far's the Night and Day Bank, 
 sweetheart," he informed her, "to get you a small wed- 
 ding-present I've had stowed away there since I first 
 met you. It's a long way uphill, and it will be dark, 
 before we get there. Let's take a cab." 
 
 "Oh no," she protested, "I'd much rather walk. And 
 you must remember, Stephen, how poor we are. We 
 must be much more economical now. I've cost you 
 such a lot already." 
 
 "All right," he assented, with a cheerful smile, "we'll 
 walk if you want to, and spend the dollar we've saved 
 in some other way." 
 
 "We'll have to be much more economical now," she 
 repeated wisely, "and everything's so expensive here 
 in New York." 
 
 They passed up the hill together, on foot. At the 
 top Quaintance bade her turn and look back. 
 
 "It's good, isn't it?" he said, staring down at the 
 long, crowded, lamp-lit vista with a sigh of sheer con- 
 tent. She made no reply, but the hand nestling
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 297 
 
 warmly in the crook of his elbow moved in quick, af- 
 firmative pressure. 
 
 "Come on now," he ordered. "It will be dinner- 
 time before we know where we are. 
 
 "It was here I first saw you," he said, halting her 
 again on the steps of the bank. 
 
 "And I saw you," she admitted, blushing. "You 
 were looking at me so strangely. And I didn't under- 
 stand. Jules Chevrel was waiting for me in the cross- 
 street. I was horribly frightened then." 
 
 "The the dog!" said he, explosively. "If I ever 
 come across him again, it will be a bad day for him." 
 
 "And yet, but for him you'd never have seen me," 
 she reminded him. 
 
 He shook his head solemnly over that undeniable 
 fact. 
 
 "True for you," he agreed. "It's a queer thing that 
 his rascally machinations should have been the means 
 of my meeting you. And that reminds me, I must pay 
 you back the thousand dollars he charged you for the 
 introduction?" 
 
 "I think it's been worth that to me, dear," she whis- 
 pered, and he slipped an arm round her waist while he 
 led her through the swing-door into the bank. 
 
 His former acquaintance there greeted him with 
 great deference. 
 
 "Yes, we received all your letters, Mr. New 
 
 Mr. Quaintance," said he, having been presented to 
 Mrs. Quaintance and as soon as he could bring himself 
 to give over bowing before her beauty, escape from 
 his obvious enchantment to the dry details of business 
 again. "The Bank is perfectly satisfied, and your old
 
 298 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 account will be transferred to the new one at once. Will 
 you please record your usual signature here. 
 
 " 'Stephen Quaintance.' Quite so. I thank you. 
 No, not at all it's a pleasure. An account for Mrs. 
 Quaintance ? We shall be only too pleased. You sign 
 here, Mrs. Quaintance, just under your husband's 
 name. Mr. Quaintance's cheque on ourselves for a 
 thousand dollars as first deposit. Quite so. I thank 
 you." 
 
 He handed the blushing bride her own private pass- 
 book and a slim folio containing checks And he was 
 still bowing delightedly when Quaintance bethought 
 himself of the diamonds. These were promptly pro- 
 duced and delivered into his own hands. 
 
 She looked down, entranced, at the lambent, rose- 
 colored stones, one in each pink palm. 
 
 "Oh, Stephen!" she cried in a low and tremulous 
 voice, looking up at him, "they're far too splendid for 
 me. You should have married a princess !" 
 
 "He has," ejaculated the banker, before he could 
 recollect himself, and drew back in direct confusion. 
 Quaintance grinned most amiably in his direction. 
 
 "Here, give them to me," he requested, and tucked 
 them into one of his waistcoat-pockets. "We'll take 
 them to Tiffany's in the morning and have them set. 
 And meantime we must get something to eat, some- 
 where " 
 
 He regarded his wife for a moment with smiling 
 nonchalance, and, 
 
 "Wait here half a minute," said he. "I'll be back be- 
 fore you can miss me. 
 
 "Keep my wife in safe deposit for me," he called to
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE . 299 
 
 the banker as he hurried off to carry out the fortuitous 
 inspiration which had come to him. 
 
 "We want something to eat, somewhere not too 
 dull," he remarked to himself as he made for the tele- 
 phone booth. "And we can't do better than dip into 
 Martin's, eh?" 
 
 "By the way, Mr. New Mr. Quaintance, we have 
 
 some letters for you," the banker informed him blandly 
 when he returned. "I had almost forgotten, but here 
 they are." 
 
 "Thanks," said Quaintance, stuffing them hastily into 
 a coat-pocket. "Much obliged to you. Good night. 
 Come on Dagmar. It's dinner-time." 
 
 She bade the man of money good-bye, and was 
 handed into a cab at the door by her most impetuous 
 husband 
 
 "Martin's," said he to the cabby, and they were 
 whirled off down the avenue through a snow-shower 
 which made their shelter the snugger within. 
 
 "You don't mind, do you, dear?" he asked as they 
 drew up at their destination. 
 
 "Not with you, Stephen," she replied happily, "and 
 to-night. But we mustn't be very late or Fanchette 
 will think we are lost. And we must really be less ex- 
 travagant after this, mustn't we ?" 
 
 "We will," he assented, laughing, and led her in. 
 
 A waiter sprang toward them as they crossed the 
 threshold of the same room in which they had met, un- 
 known to each other and under such widely different 
 auspices, a few short months before. 
 
 "The same table, sir?" he suggested breathlessly, 
 and urged them with eager hands in the direction of 
 his own domain.
 
 300 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 Quaintance regarded him quizzically. 
 
 "/ did the waiting the last time I was here," he re- 
 marked, "and your shiftlessness very nearly cost me 
 my train." 
 
 "Yes, sir? I'm very sorry, sir," said the man, satis- 
 fied that all would go well. "But you did catch it, sir, 
 in the end, didn't you?" 
 
 Quaintance frowned and smiled and sat down, under- 
 standing the double intent of the question accom- 
 panied by an ingratiating smirk. And it happened thus 
 that he no longer sat opposite an empty chair and 
 alone, but face to face and at one with the girl he had 
 not dared to speak to then. 
 
 The atmosphere of Upper Bohemia was redolent of 
 ambrosia now, and Quaintance found the insouciant 
 gaiety of its inhabitants much more infectious than for- 
 merly. 
 
 Outside, in the dark everyday world, it was snowing 
 silently. Within all was warmth, and light: not too 
 much of the latter, but just sufficient to show off fair 
 faces, white arms and shoulders, bright eyes. Soft 
 music swelled and ebbed on the fragrant air, the echoes 
 of men's mirth, women's light laughter blending har- 
 moniously with it. For there was the land of the lotus, 
 where it is always sunshine and summer, where night 
 is even as day. 
 
 Quaintance started as his wife spoke. 
 
 "Are you dreaming, dear?" she asked smilingly. 
 
 "Of the last time," he answered, squaring his 
 shoulders again. "We've come through the mill since 
 then, sweetheart, but thank God! we're none the 
 worse. 
 
 "Waiter! We want some dinner the best you can
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 301 
 
 'do, only don't bother us. And bring us a bottle of that 
 same Burgundy, will you. It's a lucky bin." 
 
 All they said to each other over that meal concerns 
 themselves only. But it may be stated, that, when it 
 was over and Quaintance had ordered coffee, a special 
 brew to be made according to methods imparted to him 
 by a merchant from Mocha whom he had once met on 
 his travels, they both fell silent, looking about them 
 with eyes that were very friendly and well disposed 
 toward the others there. And they were still sunk in 
 such wordless contentment when a cheery voice re- 
 called them from the clouds. 
 
 "H'lo, Quaintance!" it said, and they looked up 
 swiftly at the grey-haired individual in very correct 
 evening dress who had come forward and stopped be- 
 side them. 
 
 Quaintance sprang to his feet, hand outstretched. 
 
 "Gad! but I'm glad to see you, O'Ferral," he cried. 
 "Dagmar, this is a little surprise I planned for you. I 
 didn't know whether O'Ferral was in town till I 
 'phoned from the bank. A chair, waiter ! Where's that 
 coffee ? Fetch me my coat I want my cigar-case. Or 
 will you have something to eat first, O'Ferral?" 
 
 "I've dined, thanks." 
 
 "Then have a cigar." 
 
 Quaintance plunged a hand into his overcoat-pocket, 
 pulled forth his case and a couple of letters which he 
 would have tossed to one side had not he caught sight 
 of the postmark on one of them. 
 
 He lit a match for O'Ferral, and kindled his own 
 Havana, with frowning eyes on the envelope. Then he 
 slit that open.
 
 302 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 "Your pardon," he said to the other two, "but I want 
 to see what this fellow says and forget him." 
 
 His wife turned to O'Ferral, to whom she had much 
 to tell. Their voices sounded far away and indistinct 
 to him as he stared, through a thin blue curtain of 
 smoke, at the paper before him. And he stared at it 
 for so long that she at length took him to task. 
 
 "What's the matter, Stephen?" she asked, and her 
 eyes grew anxious as she observed the bewilderment in 
 his face. 
 
 He looked at her for a moment as if she had been a 
 stranger, and then at O'Ferral. 
 
 "I wish you would read that to me," he said in a 
 puzzled whisper. "I don't seem to get the sense of it. 
 That wine must have gone to my head." 
 
 O'Ferral glanced at the bottle, more than half full. 
 
 "You must have a very weak head, Steve," said he 
 concisely, and took the sheet from his friend. 
 
 But his expression also changed as he perused the 
 epistle. He opened his eyes very wide and pursed up 
 his mouth. 
 
 "Read it aloud," Quaintance ordered. "It's from 
 San Francisco, Dagmar from the lawyers there. Go 
 on, O'Ferral. We're listening." 
 
 And O'Ferral obeyed, with good will. 
 
 " 'Dear Sir/ " he began, " 'We duly received your 
 favor from Paris, enclosing certificate of your marriage 
 to the ward of our late client, Mr. Miles Quaintance, as 
 also proof of your identity, which we have since satis- 
 fied ourselves is competent. And in this connection 
 we beg to express our profound regret that we were 
 misled into recognizing Mr. Dominic Seager in your 
 place, but, as you yourself were admittedly the chief
 
 A MILLION A MINUTE 303 
 
 contributor to that mistake, we trust you will not hold 
 us unduly blameworthy. 
 
 " 'We note that you and your wife wished, at the 
 time of your wedding, to forfeit all claim to our late 
 client's property, and the steps you took to do so. 
 
 " 'You have evidently forgotten, however, that there 
 is a considerable difference in time between France 
 and the United States of America. The certified hour 
 of your marriage was 12.10 a. m. in Paris, which in San 
 Francisco would be 3.50 p. m. of the previous day, 7.05, 
 p. m. in New York We have taken the highest legal 
 opinion on this point, and it coincides with our own,, 
 viz., that Mr. Miles Quaintance, an American citizen,, 
 making his will in America and for the benefit of Amer- 
 ican heirs, did so on the basis, only and absolutely, of 
 American time. 
 
 " 'We have therefore felt compelled, acting under 
 our late client's explicit instructions, to forward the 
 liquid assets of his personal estate to the bank in New 
 York, to which you kindly referred us. And we wait 
 your orders as to the disposal of the testator's real 
 property. 
 
 " 'Trusting to be favored with your confidence We 
 have acted for the late Mr. Miles Quaintance for 
 twenty years and assuring you of our best efforts on 
 your behalf, we remain, yours faithfully, Scroggie, 
 Naylor, & Touchwood/ ' 
 
 Quaintance's cigar had gone out. He was gazing 
 witlessly at his wife, while she, no less perturbed, 
 looked blankly back at him. O'Ferral glanced at his 
 watch, and was silent, waiting for them to speak. And 
 time ticked away, unheeded. 
 
 The restaurant was beginning to empty. There
 
 304 A MILLION A MINUTE 
 
 were vacant tables all round them. The world without 
 was hushed by the snow. 
 
 Quaintance sat up suddenly and his bent brows re- 
 laxed. His wife leaned forward. O'Ferral regarded 
 them both approvingly, with twinkling eyes. 
 
 "Well?" he demanded, and Quaintance turned to 
 liim in surprise. 
 
 "I had forgotten that you were there, O'Ferral," he 
 said simply. "But it's all true. There's no doubt 
 about it. 
 
 "And we're not going to buck against fate any 
 more," he informed his wife. "We've hurt ourselves 
 too badly at that game already." 
 
 "You mean that we must keep all that money?" she 
 asked. 
 
 "Most of it. We can't well help ourselves. But 
 we won't let the charities suffer, and and we'll forgive 
 Miles Quaintance as much as we can. We'll take it 
 that he at least meant well by you and me, dear." 
 
 O'Ferral pulled out his watch again. 
 
 "Time flies," he averred, "and so must I. I only 
 looked in on my way uptown to shake hands with you 
 both. And, d'you know, Steve, that you've been think- 
 ing it out at the rate of a million a minute !"
 
 BOOKS ON NATURE STUDY BY 
 
 CHARLES G. D. ROBERTS 
 
 Handsomely bound in cloth. Price, 75 cents per volume, postpaid. 
 
 THE KINDRED OF THE WILD. A Book of Animal Life. 
 With illustrations by Charles Livingston Bull. 
 
 Appeals alike to the young and to the merely youthful-hearted. 
 Close observation. Graphic description. We get a sense of the 
 great wild and its denizens. Out of tne common. Vigorous and full 
 of character. The book is one to be enjoyed ; all the more because 
 it smacks of the forest instead of the museum. John Burroughs says : 
 " The volume is in many ways the most brilliant collection of Animal 
 Stories that has appeared. It reaches a high order of literary merit." 
 
 THE HEART OF THE ANCIENT WOOD. Illustrated. 
 
 This book strikes a new note in lit erature. It is a realistic romance 
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 a pioneer's daughter in the depths of the ancient wood and the wild 
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 beasts who live closest to the heart of the wood. 
 
 THE WATCHERS OF THE TRAILS. A companion volume 
 to the " Kindred of the Wild." With 48 full page plates 
 and decorations from drawings by Charles Livingston Bull. 
 
 These stories are exquisite in their refinement, and yet robust in 
 their appreciation of some of the rougher phases of woodcraft. "This 
 is a book full of delight. An additional charm lies in Mr. Bull's faith- 
 ful and graphic illustrations, which in fashion all their own tell the 
 story of the wild life, illuminating and supplementing the pen pictures 
 of the authors." Literary Digest. 
 
 RED FOX. The Story of His Adventurous Career in the Ring- 
 waak Wilds, and His Triumphs over the Enemies of His 
 Kind. Wth 50 illustrations, including frontispiece in color 
 and cover design by Charles Livingston Bull. 
 
 A brilliant chapter in natural history. Infinitely more wholesome 
 reading than the average tale of sport, since it gives a glimpse of the 
 hunt from the point of view of the hunted. " True in substance but 
 fascinating as nction. It will interest old and young, city-bound and 
 free-footed, those who know animals and tnose who do not." 
 Chicago Record-Herald. 
 
 GROSSET & DUNLAP, Publishers, - - New York
 
 FAMOUS COPYRIGHT BOOKS 
 
 IN POPULAR PRICED EDITIONS 
 
 Re-issues of the great literary successes of the time, library size, 
 printed on excellent paper most of them finely illustrated. Full and 
 handsomely bound in cloth. Price, 75 cents a volume, postpaid. 
 
 NEDRA, by George Barr McCutcheon, with color frontispiece, 
 and other illustrations by Harrison Fisher. 
 
 The story of an elopement of a young couple from Chicago, who 
 decide to go to London, travelling as brother and sister. Their diffi- 
 culties commence in New York and become greatly exaggerated 
 when they are shipwrecked in mid-ocean. The hero finds himself 
 stranded on the island of Nedra with another girl, whom he has 
 rescued by mistake. The story gives an account of their finding 
 some of the other passengers, and the circumstances which resulted 
 from the strange mix-up. 
 
 POWER LOT, by Sarah P. McLean Greene. Illustrated. 
 
 The story of the reformation of a man and his restoration to self- 
 respect through the power of honest labor, the exercise of honest in- 
 dependence, and the aid of clean, healthy, out-of-door life and sur- 
 roundings. The characters take hold of the heart and win sympathy. 
 The dear old story has never been more lovingly and artistically told. 
 
 MY MAMIE ROSE. The History of My Regeneration, by 
 Owen Kiidare. Illustrated. 
 
 This autobiography is a powerful book of love and sociology. Reads 
 like the strangest fiction. Is the strongest truth and deals with the 
 story of a man's redemption through a woman's love and devotion. 
 
 JOHN BURT, by Frederick Upham Adams, with illustrations. 
 
 John Burt, a New England lad, goes West to seek his fortune and 
 finds it in gold mining. He becomes one of the financial factors and 
 pitilessly crushes his enemies. The story of the Stock Exchange 
 manipulations was never more vividly and engrossingly told. A love 
 story runs through the book, and is handled with infinite skill. 
 
 THE HEART LINE, by Gelett Burgess, with halftone illustra- 
 tions by Lester Ralph, and inlay cover in colors. 
 
 A great dramatic story of the city that was. A story of Bohemian 
 life in San Francisco, before the disaster, presented with mirror-like 
 accuracy. Compressed into it are all the sparkle, all the gayety, all 
 the wild, whirling life of the glad, mad, bad, and most delightful city 
 of the Golden Gate. 
 
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 Re-issues of the great literary successes of the time, library size, 
 printed on excellent paper most of them finely illustrated. Full and 
 handsomely bound in cloth. Price, 75 cents a volume, postpaid. 
 
 CAROLINA I.F.F.. By Lillian Bell. With frontispiece by Dora 
 Wheeler Keith. 
 
 Carolina Lee is the Uncle Tom's Cabin of Christian Science. Its 
 keynote is " Divine Love" in the understanding of the knowledge of 
 all good things which may be obtainable. When the tale is told, the 
 sick healed, wrong changed to right, poverty of purse and spirit 
 turned into riches, lovers made worthy of each other and happily 
 united, including Carolina Lee and her affinity, it is borne upon the 
 reader that he nas been giving rapid attention to a free lecture on 
 Christian Science ; that the working out of each character is an argu- 
 ment for " Faith ;" and that the theory is persuasively attractive. 
 
 A Christian Science novel that will bnng delight to the heart of 
 every believer in that faith. It is a well told story, entertaining, and 
 cleverly mingles art, humor and sentiment 
 
 HILMA, by William Tiilinghast Eldridge, with illustrations by 
 Harrison Fisher and Martin Justice, and inlay cover. 
 
 It is a rattling good tale, written with charm, and full of remark- 
 able happenings, dangerous doings, strange events, jealous intrigues 
 and sweet love making. The reader's interest is not permitted to lag, 
 but is taken up and carried on from incident to incident with ingenu- 
 ity and contagious enthusiasm. The story gives us the Graustark 
 and The Prisoner of Zenda th rill, but the tale is treated with fresh- 
 ness, ingenuity, and enthusiasm, and the climax is both unique and 
 satisfying. It will hold the fiction lover close to every page. 
 
 THE MYSTERY OF THE FOUR FINGERS, by Fred M. 
 White, with halftone illustrations by Will Grefc. 
 
 A fabulously rich gold mine in Mexico is known by the picturesque 
 and mysterious name of The Pour Fingers. It originally belonged 
 to an Aztec tribe, and its location is known to one surviving descendant 
 a man possessing wonderful occult power. Should any person un- 
 lawfully discover its whereabouts, four of his fingers are mysteriously 
 removed, and one by one returned to him. The appearance of the 
 final fourth betokens his swift and violent death. 
 
 Surprises, strange and startling, are concealed in every chapter of 
 this completely engrossing detective story. The horrible fascination 
 of the tragedy holds one in rapt attention to the end. And through 
 it runs the thread of a curious love story. 
 
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 MEREDITH NICHOLSON'S 
 FASCINATING ROMANCES 
 
 Handsomely bound in cloth. Price, 75 cents per volume, postpaid. 
 
 THE HOUSE OF A THOUSAND CANDLES. With a frontis- 
 piece in colors by Howard Chandler Christy. 
 
 A novel of romance and adventure, of love and valor, of mystery and 
 hidden treasure. The hero is required to spend a whole year in the 
 isolated house, which according to his grandfather's will shall then 
 become his. If the terms of the will be violated the house goes to a 
 young woman whom the will, furthermore, forbids him to marry. 
 Nobody can guess the secret, and the whole plot moves along with 
 an exciting rip. 
 
 THE PORT OF MISSING MEN. With illustrations by Clar- 
 ence F. Underwood. 
 
 There is romance of love, mystery, plot, and fighting, and a breath- 
 .ess dash and go about the telling which makes one quite forget 
 about the improbabilities of the story; and it all ends in the old- 
 fashioned healthy American way. Shirley is a sweet, courageous 
 heroine whose shining eyes lure from page to page. 
 
 ROSALIND AT REDGATE. Illustrated by Arthur L Keller. 
 
 The author of " The House of a Thousand Candles " has here 
 given us a bouyant romance brimming with lively humor and opti- 
 mism ; with mystery that breeds adventure and ends in love and hap- 
 piness. A most entertaining and delightful book. 
 
 THE MAIN CHANCE. With illustrations by Harrison Fisher. 
 
 A "traction deal "in a Western city is the pivot about which the 
 action of this clever story revolves. But it is in the character-draw- 
 ing of the principals that the author's strength lies. Exciting inci- 
 dents develop their inherent strength and weaknesss, and if virtue wins 
 in the end, it is quite in keeping with its carefully-planned antecedents. 
 The N. Y. Sun says : " We commend it for its workmanship for its 
 smoothness, its sensible fancies, and for its general charm." 
 
 ZELDA DAMERON. With portraits of the characters by 
 John Cecil Clay. 
 
 " A picture of the new West, "at once startlingly and attractively 
 true. * * * The heroine is a strange, sweet mixture of pride, wil- 
 f ulness and lovable courage. The characters are superbly drawn ; the 
 atmosphere is convincing. There is about it a sweetness, a whole- 
 someness and a sturdiness that commends it to earnest, kindly and 
 wholesome people." Boston Transcript. 
 
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 BRILLIANT AND SPIRITED NOVELS 
 
 AGNES AND EGERTON CASTLE 
 
 Handsomely bound in cloth. Price, 75 cents per volume, postpaid. 
 
 THE PRIDE OF JENNICO. Being a Memoir of Captain Basil 
 Jennico. 
 
 " What separates it from most books of its class is its distinction 
 of manner, its unusual grace of diction, its delicacy of touch, and the 
 fervent charm of its love passages. It is a very attractive piece of 
 romantic fiction relying for its effect upon character rather than inci- 
 dent, and upon vivid dramatic presentation. ' ' The Dial. " A stirring, 
 brilliant and dashing story." The Oatlook. 
 
 THE SECRET ORCHARD, illustrated by Charles D. Williams. 
 
 The " Secret Orchard " is set in the midst of the ultramodern society. 
 The scene is in Paris, but most of the characters are English speak- 
 ing. The story was dramatized in London, and in it the Kendalls 
 scored a great theatrical success. 
 
 " Artfully contrived and full of romantic charm * * * it pos- 
 sesses ingenuity of incident, a figurative designation of the unhal- 
 lowed scenes in which unlicens ed love accomplishes and wrecks faith 
 and happiness." Athenaeum. 
 
 YOUNG APRIL. With illustrations by A. B. Wenzell. 
 
 " It is everything that a good romance should be, and it carries 
 about it an air of distinction both rare and delightful." Chicago 
 Tribune. "With regret one turns to the last page of this delightful 
 novel, so delicate in its romance, so brilliant in its episodes, so spark- 
 ling in its art, and so exquisite in its diction. " Worcester Spy. 
 
 FLOWER O' THE ORANGE. With frontispiece. 
 
 We have learned to expect from these fertile authors novels grace- 
 ful in form, brisk in movement, and romantic in conception. This 
 carries the reader back to the days of the bewigged and beruffled 
 gallants of the seventeenth century and tells him of feats of arms and 
 adventures in love as thrilling and picturesque, yet delicate, as the 
 utmost seeker of romance may ask. 
 
 MY MERRY ROCKHURST. Illustrated by Arthur E. Becher. 
 
 In the eight stories of a courtier of King Charles Second, which are 
 here gathered together, the Castles are at their best, reviving all the 
 fragrant charm of those books, like The Pride of Jennico, in which 
 they first showed an instinct, amounting to genius, for sunny romances. 
 The book is absorbing * * * and is as spontaneous in feeling as it is 
 artistic in execution." New York Tribune. 
 
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 Re-issues of the great literary successes of the time, library size, 
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 handsomely bound in doth. Price, 75 cents a volume, postpaid. 
 
 THE CATTLE BARON'S DAUGHTER. A Novel By Harold 
 Bindloss. With illustrations by David Ericson. 
 
 A story of the fight for the cattle-ranges of the West. Intense in- 
 terest is aroused by its pictures of life in the cattle country at that 
 critical moment of transition when the great tracts of land used for 
 grazing were taken up by the incoming homesteaders, with the in- 
 evitable result of fierce contest, of passionate emotion on both sideSi 
 and of final triumph of the inevitable tendency of the times. 
 
 WINSTON OF THE PRAIRIE. With illustration, in color by 
 W. Herbert Dunton. 
 
 A man of upright character, young and clean, but badly worsted 
 in the battle of life, consents as a desperate resort to impersonate for 
 a period a man of his own age scoundrelly in character but of an 
 aristocratic and moneyed family. The better man finds himself barred 
 from resuming his old name. How, coming into the other man's pos- 
 sessions, he wins the respect of all men, and the love of a fastidious, 
 delicately nurtured girl, is the thread upon which the story hangs. It 
 is one of the best novels of the West that has appeared for years. 
 
 THAT MAINWARING AFFAIR. By A. Maynard Barbour. 
 With illustrations by E. Plaisted Abbott. 
 
 A novel with a most intricate and carefully unraveled plot. A 
 naturally probable and excellently developed story and the reader 
 will follow the fortunes of each character with unabating interest 
 * * * the interest is keen at the close of the first chapter and in- 
 creases to the end. 
 
 AT THE TIME APPOINTED. With a frontispiece in color* 
 by J. H. Marchand. 
 
 The fortunes of a young mining engineer who through an accident 
 loses his memory and identity. In his new character and under his 
 new name, the hero lives a new life of struggle land adventure. The 
 volume will be found highly entertaining by those who appreciate a 
 thoroughly good story. 
 
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 IN POPULAR PRICED EDITIONS 
 
 Re-issues of the great literary successes of the time. Library 
 size. Printed on excellent paper most of them with illustra- 
 tions of marked beauty and handsomely bound in cloth. 
 Price, 75 cents a volume, postpaid. 
 
 BEVERLY OF GRAUSTARK. By George Barr McCut- 
 cheon. With Color Frontispiece and other illustrations 
 by Harrison Fisher. Beautiful inlay picture in colors of 
 Beverly on the cover. 
 
 * The most fascinating, engrossing and picturesque of the season's 
 novels." Boston Herald, "'Beverly' is altogether charming al- 
 most living flesh and blood." Louisville Times. "Better than 
 * Graustark '."Mail and Express. " A sequel quite as impossible 
 as ' Graustark ' and quite as entertaining." Bookman. " A charm* 
 ing love story well told." Boston Transcript, 
 
 A ROGUE. By Harold MacGrath. With illustra- 
 tions and inlay cover picture by Harrison Fisher. 
 
 . . 
 
 quick movement. ' Half a Rogue ^ o ^n.^ -> * ^^.O.-L^V.. *i U v, w. 
 a glorious morning. It is as varied as an April day. It is as charming 
 as two most charming girls can make it. Love and honor and suc- 
 cess and all the great things worth fighting for and living for the in 
 volved in ' Half a Rogue.' " Phila. Press. 
 
 THE GIRL FROM TIM'S PLACE. By Charles Clark 
 
 Munn. With illustrations by Frank T. Merrill. 
 ""Figuring in the pages of this story there are several strong char- 
 acters. Typical New England folk and an especially sturdy one, old 
 Cy Walker, through whose instrumentality Chip comes to happiness 
 and fortune. There is a chain ef comedy, tragedy, pathos and love, 
 which makes a dramatic story." Boston Herald. 
 
 THE LION AND THE MOUSE. A story of American Life. 
 
 By Charles Klein, and Arthur Hornblow. With illustra* 
 
 tions by Stuart Travis, and Scenes from the Play. 
 
 The novel duplicated the success of the play ; in fact the book is 
 
 greater than the play. A portentous clash of dominant personalties 
 
 that form the essence of the play are necessarily touched upon bul 
 
 briefly in the short space of four acts. All this is narrated in the 
 
 novel with a wealth of fascinating and absorbing detail, making it one 
 
 of the most powerfully written and exciting works of fiction given to 
 
 the world in years. 
 
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 Price, 75 cents a volume, postpaid. 
 
 BARBARA WINSLOW, REBEL. By Elizabeth Ellis. 
 
 With illustrations by John Rae, and colored inlay cover 
 The following, taken from story, will best describe the heroine: 
 A TOAST: " To the bravest comrade in misfortune, the sweetest 
 companion in peace and at all times the most courageous of women." 
 "-Barbara Winslow. " A romantic story, buoyant, eventful, and in 
 matters of love exactly what.the heart.could desire. " ~Ne w York Sun. 
 
 SUSAN. By Ernest Oldmeado^r. With a color frontispiece 
 
 by Frank Haviland. Medalion in color on front cover. 
 Lord Ruddington falls helplessly in love with Miss Langley, whom 
 be sees in one of her walks accompanied by her maid, Susan. 
 Through a misapprehension of personalities his lordship addresses 
 a love missive to the maid. Susan accepts in perfect good faith, 
 and an epistolary love-making goes on till they are disillusioned. It 
 naturally makes a droll and delightful little comedy ; and is a story 
 that is particularly clever in the telling. 
 
 WHEN PATTY WENT TO COLLEGE. By Jean Web- 
 ster. With illustrations by C. D. Williams. 
 "The book is a treasure.' 1 Chicago Daily A r ews. "Bright, 
 whimsical, and thoroughly entertaining." Buffalo Express. "One 
 of the best stories of life in a girl's college that has ever been writ- 
 ten." N. Y. Press. " To any woman who has enjoyed the pleasures 
 of a college'lif e this book cannot fail to bring back many sweet recol- 
 lections ; and to those who have not been to college the wit, lightness, 
 and charm of Patty are sure to be no less delightf ul. " Public Opinion 
 
 THE MASQUERADER. By Katherine Cecil Thurston. 
 
 With illustrations by Clarence F. Underwood. 
 " You can't drop it till you have turned the last page." Cleveland 
 Leader. " Its very audacity of motive, of execution, of solution, al 
 most takes one's breath away. The boldness of its denouement 
 is sublime." Boston Transcript. " The literary hit of a generation. 
 The best of it is the story deserves all its success. Amasterij.-i .j 
 St. Louis Dispatch. " The story is ingeniously told, and cleverJj 
 Constructed." The Dial. 
 
 THE GAMBLER. By Katherine Cecil Thurston. With 
 
 illustrations by John Campbell. 
 
 " Tells of a high strung young Irish woman who has a passion fox 
 gambling, inherited from a long line of sporting ancestors. She has 
 a high sense of honor, too, and that causes complications. She is & 
 very human, lovable character, and love saves ner." N. Y. Times. 
 
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 Re-issues of the great literary successes of the time. Library 
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 tions of marked beauty and handsomely bound in doth. 
 Price, 75 cents a volume, postpaid. 
 
 THE AFFAIR AT THE INN. By Kate Douglas Wiggin. 
 
 With illustrations by Martin Justice. 
 
 " As superlatively clever in the writing as it is entertaining in the 
 reading. It is actual comedy of the most artistic sort, and it is 
 handled with a freshness and originality that is unquestionably 
 novel." Boston Transcript. " A feast of humor and good cheer, 
 yet subtly pervaded by special shades of feeling, fancy, tenderness, 
 or whimsicality. A merry thing in prose." St. Louis Democrat. 
 
 ROSE 0' THE RIVER. By Kate Douglas Wiggia. With 
 
 illustrations by George Wright. 
 
 "'Rose o' the River,' a charming bit of sentiment, gracefully 
 written and deftly touched with a gentle humor. It is a dainty book 
 daintily illustrated." New York Tribune. "A wholesome, bright, 
 refreshing story, an ideal book to give a young girl." Chicago 
 Record-Herald. " An idyllic story, replete with pathos and inimita- 
 ble humor. As story-telling it is perfection, and as portrait-painting 
 it is true to the life.' London Mail. 
 
 TILLIE : A Mennonite Maid. By Helen R. Martin. With 
 
 illustrations by Florence Scovel Shinn. 
 
 -rlie little " Mennonite Maid " who wanders through these pages 
 is something quite new in fiction. Tillie is hungry for books and 
 beauty and love ; and she comes into her inheritance at the end. 
 " Tillie is faulty, sensitive, big-hearted, eminently human, and first, 
 last and .always lovable. Her charm glows warmly, the story is well 
 handled, the characters skilfully developed." The Book Buyer. 
 
 LADY ROSE'S DAUGHTER. By Mrs. Humphry Ward. 
 
 With illustrations by Howard Chandler Christy. 
 "The most marvellous work of its wonderful author." New York 
 World. "We touch regions and attain altitudes which it is not given 
 to the ordinary novelist even to approach.' ' London Times. " In 
 no other story has Mrs. Ward approached the brilliancy and vivacity 
 of Lady Rose's Daughter." North American Review. 
 
 THE BANKER AND THE BEAR. By Henry K. Webster. 
 " An exciting and absorbing story." New York Times. "Intense- 
 ly thrilling in parts, but an unusually good story all through. There 
 is a love affair of real charm and most novel surroundings, there is a 
 run on the bank which is almost worth a year's growth, and there is 
 all manner of exhilarating men and deeds which should bring the 
 book into high and permanent favor." Chicago Evening Post. 
 
 GROSSET & DUNLAP, - NEW YORK
 
 NATURE BOOKS 
 
 With Colored Plates, and Photographs from Life. 
 
 BIRD NEIGHBORS. An Introductory Acquaint- 
 ance with 150 Birds Commonly Found in the Woods, 
 Fields and Gardens About Our Homes. By Neltje 
 Blanchan. With an Introduction by John Burroughs, 
 and many plates of birds in natural colors. Large 
 Quarto, size 7^x10^6, Cloth. Formerly published 
 at $2.00. Our special price, $1.00. 
 
 As an aid to the elementary study of bird life nothing has ever been 
 published more satisfactory than this most successful of Nature 
 Books. This book makes the identification of our birds simple and 
 positive, even to the uninitiated, through certain unique features. 
 L All the birds are grouped according to color, in the belief that a 
 bird's coloring is the first and often the only characteristic noticed. 
 II. By another classification, the birds are grouped according to their 
 season. III. All the popular names by which a bird is known are 
 given both in the descriptions and the index. The colored plates 
 are the most beautiful and accurate ever given in a moderate-priced 
 and popular book. The most successful and widely sold Nature 
 Book yet published. 
 
 BIRDS THAT HUNT AND ARE HUNTED. Life 
 Histories of 1 70 Birds of Prey, Game Birds and Water- 
 Fowls. By Neltje Blanchan. With Introduction by 
 G. O. Shields (Coquina). 24 photographic illustra- 
 tions in color. Large Quarto, size 7^x10^. Form- 
 erly published at $2.00. Our special price, $1.00. 
 
 No work of its class has ever been issued that contains so much 
 valuable information, presented with such felicity and charm. The 
 colored plates are true to nature. By their aid alone any bird illus- 
 trated may be readily identified. Sportsmen will especially relish 
 the twenty-four color plates which show the more important birds in 
 characteristic poses. They are probably the most valuable and 
 artistic pictures of the kind available to-day. 
 
 GROSSET & DUNLAP, - NEW YORK
 
 A 000 052 021 3